Day 1: Blood Play
Day 1: Blood Play
Hermione's breath came in shallow gasps, her wrists bound above her head by a twisted length of dark magic, holding her firmly in place against the cold stone wall. Her bare skin prickled with a mixture of fear and anticipation, her heart racing as she watched Bellatrix approach.
In the flickering candlelight, Bellatrix's smile was dark and predatory, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous. But it wasn't just the magic binding Hermione that made her body tremble. It was what Bellatrix held in her hand—a wickedly sharp dagger, the cursed blade glowing faintly with dark magic.
The knife had already made its presence known. Hermione could feel its pull, a dark, seductive whisper at the edge of her mind, and her body responded to it in ways that made her heart pound even faster. She knew the blade wasn't ordinary—nothing in Bellatrix's possession ever was. And tonight, Bellatrix had promised her something different, something that would push them both beyond any boundary they'd ever crossed before.
"Do you trust me, Hermione?" Bellatrix's voice was a low purr, the words dripping with both mockery and seduction as she ran the flat of the blade along Hermione's bare thigh.
Hermione swallowed hard, her body trembling as the cold steel grazed her skin. The knife left a trail of icy heat in its wake, a sensation that sent a shiver down her spine. Fear and desire warred within her, but there was no escaping the pull of Bellatrix's magic, the way her presence consumed Hermione entirely.
"I… trust you," Hermione whispered, though her voice shook.
Bellatrix's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction. "Good girl."
The blade slid higher, teasing the sensitive skin just below Hermione's hip, and her breath hitched in her throat. Bellatrix was taking her time, savoring every moment, letting the anticipation build to unbearable heights. Hermione's wrists strained against the magical bonds, her body instinctively trying to arch toward Bellatrix, despite the danger.
"Do you know what this blade can do?" Bellatrix whispered, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear. "It doesn't just cut. It… awakens something. Something deep inside you."
Hermione's heart raced, her skin tingling as Bellatrix pressed the knife lightly against her flesh, not enough to break the skin—just enough to make Hermione's pulse quicken with fear and anticipation.
"And when it awakens that something," Bellatrix continued, her voice soft and seductive, "it makes every sensation sharper. Every touch more intense."
Hermione's breath came in shallow gasps, her mind spinning with the weight of Bellatrix's words. She didn't know how much more intensity she could take. The weight of the knife, the press of its cold edge against her skin, made her body throb with both fear and forbidden arousal. Her mind screamed at her to resist, to pull away, but she couldn't. The magic binding her in place ensured that much.
Bellatrix moved lower, the blade grazing over Hermione's inner thigh, so close to where she ached the most, but never quite touching. "You're already shaking," Bellatrix teased, her voice a low growl. "And I haven't even begun."
Hermione whimpered softly, her entire body trembling as Bellatrix lifted the knife, the sharp tip tracing a slow, deliberate line up her thigh. She could feel the pull of the blade, the magic inside it thrumming in time with her racing pulse. Every nerve in her body was on fire, her skin hyperaware of the cold steel, the heat of Bellatrix's breath on her neck, the weight of her bound wrists above her head.
And then, without warning, the blade pressed harder.
Hermione gasped as the sharp edge of the knife sliced into her skin, a thin line of blood welling up along her thigh. The pain was sharp, bright, but it was quickly followed by something else—an overwhelming rush of sensation that made Hermione's entire body tense, her breath catching in her throat.
The blood flowed, a slow, crimson trail down her leg, and Bellatrix's eyes gleamed with hunger. "There it is," she whispered, her voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Feel it, Hermione. Let it consume you."
Hermione's head fell back against the wall, her chest heaving as the pain mixed with pleasure, the sharp sting of the blade sending jolts of heat straight to her core. She shouldn't have enjoyed this. She shouldn't have craved it. But the moment her blood touched the cursed blade, the sensation changed. It wasn't just pain anymore—it was pleasure. Intense, all-consuming pleasure that made her legs shake, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
Bellatrix watched her carefully, the smile on her lips growing as she dragged the blade lower, dipping it into the well of blood before lifting it to her mouth. She licked the blade slowly, her eyes never leaving Hermione's face, savoring the taste of her blood like it was the finest wine.
"You taste divine for someone with dirty blood," Bellatrix purred, her voice thick with pleasure. "Still, I can taste the magic… it makes this all the more delicious."
Hermione's entire body trembled, her mind a foggy haze of sensation as the cursed blade's magic coursed through her veins. She was lightheaded, her body thrumming with the dark power Bellatrix wielded over her, and yet, she couldn't deny the overwhelming need that had settled deep within her. Every nerve was alive, every touch amplified, and the heat between her thighs was unbearable.
Bellatrix's fingers traced the line of blood down Hermione's leg, smearing it as she leaned in close, her lips brushing against Hermione's neck. "Do you want more?" she whispered, her voice dripping with dangerous promise. "Do you want to feel what the blade can truly do?"
Hermione's mind was spinning, her body a quivering mess as she struggled to catch her breath. But despite the fear, despite the dark magic that pulsed through her, she found herself nodding, her lips parting in a soft, breathless whisper.
"Yes."
Bellatrix's grin widened, and without another word, she pressed the blade against Hermione's skin again, this time just below her ribs. The sharp sting of the cut sent a shockwave through Hermione's body, but it was quickly followed by a rush of pleasure so intense it left her gasping for breath, her legs trembling beneath her.
"That's it," Bellatrix purred, her hand slipping down to grip Hermione's thigh, holding her still as she sliced another line across Hermione's stomach. "Let the pain become pleasure. Let it take you."
Hermione's vision blurred, her chest heaving as she struggled to stay upright, the intensity of the sensations flooding her body almost too much to bear. The cuts were shallow, but each one sent a jolt of dark magic coursing through her veins, heightening every sensation, every touch. The air around her felt electric, her skin tingling with a dangerous mix of fear and desire.
Bellatrix's lips found the trail of blood on Hermione's skin, her tongue tracing the fresh cuts with slow, deliberate strokes, licking up the crimson droplets as if they were nectar. Each lick sent Hermione's body into overdrive, her breath catching in her throat as Bellatrix's mouth moved lower, her tongue following the line of blood down to Hermione's thigh.
"Your blood sings for me," Bellatrix murmured, her voice a soft, dangerous whisper. "And I will make you sing with it."
With a flick of her wrist, Bellatrix pressed the blade against Hermione's thigh once more, slicing another shallow cut just below the first. Hermione gasped, her entire body trembling as the cursed blade worked its magic, the sharp sting of the cut blending seamlessly with the overwhelming pleasure that followed.
Hermione's head fell back against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the sensations overtook her. The cuts stung, her blood flowing freely, but each drop carried with it an overwhelming surge of pleasure that made her toes curl and her knees weaken. She felt lightheaded, her body trembling under Bellatrix's control, but she couldn't deny the strange, twisted ecstasy that coursed through her veins.
Bellatrix, eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction, pressed closer, her breath hot against Hermione's neck as she dragged the blade lower. "Look at you," Bellatrix murmured, her voice dripping with mockery and delight. "A quivering mess, just from a few little cuts. I never imagined the brave, brilliant Hermione Granger could be so… easily undone."
Hermione whimpered, her entire body shaking as Bellatrix's words wormed their way into her mind, adding to the fog of lust and submission that had already taken hold. She wanted to resist, wanted to fight back, but the magic thrumming through her made it impossible to think clearly. All she could do was gasp and tremble under Bellatrix's control.
Bellatrix's fingers trailed over Hermione's bare skin, smearing the blood from the fresh cuts as she moved closer, her body pressing Hermione's harder against the cold stone wall. "You want more, don't you?" Bellatrix whispered, her lips brushing over Hermione's ear. "You crave it. The pain, the pleasure. You want to bleed for me."
Hermione's heart raced, her breath coming in shallow gasps as Bellatrix's words made her entire body throb with need. Her mind screamed at her to deny it, to refuse, but her body betrayed her once again. The heat between her thighs was unbearable, the desire that pulsed through her too intense to resist. She needed more.
"Yes," Hermione gasped, her voice trembling as the confession slipped from her lips. "Please… more."
Bellatrix grinned, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Good girl," she purred, pressing a soft kiss to Hermione's neck before pulling back to look at her. "I knew you'd beg for it."
Without hesitation, Bellatrix pressed the blade against Hermione's thigh again, this time drawing a longer, deeper cut that made Hermione cry out, her body jerking in response. The sharp sting of the blade sent another shockwave of pleasure through her, making her vision blur, but Bellatrix wasn't done.
She knelt down, her lips finding the fresh wound, licking up the blood with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue. Hermione's entire body trembled, her breath catching in her throat as Bellatrix's mouth worked its way up her thigh, each lick sending sparks of sensation through her already oversensitive skin.
"You taste exquisite," Bellatrix murmured, her voice husky with arousal. "And the way your body responds to this… it's intoxicating."
Hermione whimpered, her head spinning with the overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure. Her legs felt weak, her body trembling uncontrollably as Bellatrix's lips and tongue teased her, the cuts on her skin burning with both pain and desire.
Bellatrix's hand moved between Hermione's legs, her fingers brushing over her wet folds with maddening precision. "Look at how soaked you are," Bellatrix teased, her fingers sliding through Hermione's slickness with ease. "All from a little bit of blood. You're filthier than I ever imagined."
Hermione's hips bucked instinctively against Bellatrix's hand, the combination of the cursed blade's magic and Bellatrix's touch making her body throb with desperate need. She was lost to it now, consumed by the twisted pleasure that came with each cut, each stroke of Bellatrix's fingers.
Bellatrix grinned wickedly, her fingers slipping inside Hermione with a smooth, practiced motion. "Tell me how much you love this," she demanded, her voice low and commanding. "Tell me how much you love bleeding for me."
Hermione gasped, her back arching against the wall as Bellatrix's fingers thrust deep inside her, the pleasure overwhelming. She could barely think, her mind foggy with lust, but Bellatrix's words broke through, making her entire body shudder.
"I love it," Hermione gasped, her voice trembling. "I love it, Bellatrix—please… more."
Bellatrix's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she thrust her fingers harder inside Hermione, her other hand still gripping the cursed blade, tracing the tip over Hermione's trembling skin. "You'll bleed for me whenever I want, won't you?" she whispered, her voice a dark promise. "You'll come for me, over and over, until you can't take it anymore."
Hermione's entire body trembled, her muscles clenching around Bellatrix's fingers as the pleasure built higher and higher. She was teetering on the edge, her mind spinning with the intensity of it all, but Bellatrix's voice, her words, kept her hanging just on the brink.
"Say it," Bellatrix growled, her fingers thrusting deeper. "Say you'll bleed for me."
"I'll bleed for you," Hermione gasped, her voice shaking as the words slipped from her lips. "I'll bleed for you, Bellatrix—"
"Good girl," Bellatrix purred, her lips curving into a wicked smile. "Now, come for me."
The command hit Hermione like a lightning bolt, and her entire body exploded with pleasure. Her muscles clenched tight around Bellatrix's fingers as her orgasm ripped through her, her cries echoing off the stone walls as she came harder than she ever thought possible. The mixture of pain and pleasure consumed her completely, her vision blurring as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her.
Bellatrix didn't stop, her fingers still moving inside Hermione, drawing out every last bit of pleasure as Hermione's body convulsed in her grip. The cuts on her skin burned with a strange, twisted ecstasy, and the cursed blade's magic only intensified the pleasure, making Hermione tremble uncontrollably.
When it was finally over, Hermione slumped against the wall, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. Her entire body was slick with sweat, her skin glistening with a mixture of blood and pleasure. She felt drained, her muscles weak, but the lingering sensation of the cuts, the pleasure that came with them, still thrummed through her veins.
Bellatrix slowly withdrew her fingers, wiping them clean on Hermione's thigh before standing up, her eyes dark with satisfaction. "You did well, Hermione," she murmured, her voice soft but filled with cruel pleasure. "And I think we've only just scratched the surface of what this blade can do."
Hermione's head swam, her body still trembling as she tried to focus, but Bellatrix's words lingered in her mind, a dark promise of what was to come. She had crossed a line tonight, a boundary neither of them thought possible, but now that it had been crossed, there was no turning back.