Work Text:
Hermione should have known better than to make a bet with a Bellatrix Black. The woman had been watching her all evening as the two moved through the party Narcissa had thrown, all opulence and gilded finery. Hermione had been invited as an olive branch, she worked with Draco at the Ministry and it was clear that his family wanted to put on a show of embracing the Muggle borns among them; even if they were only a fraction of the party guests.
It was dizzying, the crush of people dancing and the music. Hermione felt horribly out of place, even as she held her head high and put on a brave face. But after an hour or so of introducing herself and having to say no, no, she wast part of this wizard family or that wizard lineage, her parents are dentists thank you very much, she needed a break.
Picking a door at random, Hermione found herself standing in a sitting room, mostly empty save for Bellatrix Black. She lounged in a chair, one leg up across the arm rest as she shuffled a deck of cards. Her piercing gaze was focused on Hermione, the intensity of it making her shiver.
“Bored?” She asked.
“No, I just needed a little break,” said Hermione, “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, I’m Hermione Granger.”
She stepped forward, holding out a hand, but Bellatrix merely glanced at it as she continued shuffling, “I know who you are. This type of thing isn’t really you scene is it?”
Hermione pressed her lips together, annoyed, “Just because I’m not a Pureblood-“
“My nephew says you prefer a stack of books to a waltz,” Bellatrix said.
“Oh,” all the fight left Hermione when she realized she’d misunderstood what the woman had meant. “Yes, that’s true.”
“I find them rather boring myself,” said Bellatrix, “But Cissy insists we make a good show of things, pretend nothing has changed aside from our updated guest lists.”
“It’s nice of you to support her at least,” Hermione said, and Bellatrix smiled, something unreadable in her expression.
“Nice… yes, that’s me so… nice,” swinging her leg down, she leaned forward, resting an elbow on each knee, “Want to play cards? It’s a simple game, I’ll teach you.”
“Alright- ah!” Hermione gasped as a chair bumped into her from behind, knocking her off her feet as it brought her in front of the Bellatrix. A table joining them in quick succession.
Bellatrix explained the rules of the game, walking Hermione from a hand before sitting back and grinning.
“You’re a natural,” she announced, “Now, let’s play for real.”
Two stacks of gold coins appeared in front of them, one for Bellatrix and one for Hermione. Bellatrix explained that for each hand they would put in how much they wanted to bet and whoever won the hand won the coins. Hermione nodded.
First she bet low, only a few coins here and there. But she won, and she won again, Bellatrix making little annoyed noises each time. Finally, Bellatrix was out of coins, and she looked over at Hermione appraisingly.
“One last hand pet,” she said, “This time, all or nothing.”
Unhooking the emerald necklace from around her neck, Bellatrix set it on the table, “If you win, you get the necklace.”
Hermione glanced down at the cards in her hand.
“And if you win?” Hermione asked.
Bellatrix leaned back in her chair, rubbing her chin as she considered. Finally she said, “If I win, I get to take your virginity.”
Eyes widened, Hermione’s mouth formed a perfect circle, “I- uh-“
“Come on little lion,” Bellatrix said, “Scared you won’t beat me? Is your hand bad or something? You’ve been playing so well.”
Hermione bit her lip, looking over her cards again. They were all good cards, not perfect, but Bellatrix would have to have a perfect hand to beat her.
“Alright,” she said finally, “Deal.”
Lifting her chin, Hermione laid out her cards. She smirked as she watched Bellatrix read them, eyebrows pulled together in concern.
Bellatrix whistled, “That’s quite a hand.”
Hermione preened, pleased with herself. And then, Bellatrix smiled. It was a slow smile, creeping across her face, making Hermione grow cold. Bellatrix held Hermione’s gaze long enough to make her uncomfortable, and then she tapped the top of her cards and laid them out.
A perfect hand.
Hermione had lost.
Standing up, Bellatrix pointed at the emerald necklace that she’d bet, “Put it on.”
“But I lost,” Hermione gripped the arm rests.
“I know, I want to see it on your pretty throat.”
With trembling hands, Hermione lifted the necklace, feeling it’s heavy, cool weight in her hands. She carefully clasped it around her neck, letting it rest against her collar bone, just above her breasts.
“Beautiful,” murmured Bellatrix.
Pushing aside the table, sending cards flying everywhere, Bellatrix closed the short space between them. She pulled Hermione to her feel, wrapping an arm around her waist so they stood pressed together, and with a single spell, they were transported to an ornate- yet messy- bedroom.
Bellatrix kissed her, rough and possessive. Hermione gasped against her mouth, giving the older witch entrance to her mouth. She couldn’t hold back a moan as Bellatrix’s tongue was inside her mouth, hot, unwavering. Hermione’s arms wrapped around her neck, desperate to be closer.
When they broke apart, her lungs were screaming for air, panting breathlessly. But most shockingly, Hermione was naked save for the emerald necklace. Bellatrix ran a finger along the pendant, “I do like my pretty things.”
Hermione couldn’t help herself, leaning in, she kissed Bellatrix’s jaw, letting her base desires take over. There was something intoxicating about this strange woman, about being swept off her feet by a powerful woman and taken to bed.
She let herself be carried to bed, let herself be laid down upon the soft sheets. Bellatrix kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. They lay in the center of the bed, in the nest of sheets.
With the flick of Bellatrix’s wrist, emerald green silk ropes snaked up from the edges of the bed, wrapping around Hermione’s limbs. Her wrists were pulled above her head, her legs quickly following, knees pressed her shoulders as her bound ankles were pulled apart.
The emerald pendant was cool in between her breasts. A heavy reminder of their little game. She gasped in shock. Trying to catch her breath as being so untimely ripped from Bellatrix’s arms.
Hermione made a pathetic mewing noise. She pulled fruitlessly against her restraints, her new position leaving her totally exposed, vulgarly vulnerable.
“So pretty,” Bellatrix said calmly, spreading Hermione’s slick folds with two fingers. She stroked her, slow and deliberate, making Hermione whimper with want.
Reaching out of her line of vision, Bellatrix retrieved something from the nightstand. Sitting back up, she hoisted the camera, taking a photo of Hermione’s bound and squirming form. Her face heated as she remembered how wizard cameras worked, how the photograph, when developed, would move, forever immortalizing her naked, vulnerable form.
“You stay there,” Bellatrix said with a laugh. “I’m going to slip into something more comfortable.”
Hermione wiggled her feet, resting her bonds. They weren’t tight enough to hurt, just to keep her secure, cunt on display. She found it arousing, being tied like this, forced to wait on the wims for Bellatrix.
Reappearing from behind the screen, Bellatrix was dressed in a long black robe. Crossing the room, Bellatrix revealed the leather harness she’d fastened around her waist, complete with the girthy dildo hanging from it. Hermione felt her cunt clench around nothing, feeling empty at the mere thought of the toy filling her.
Bellatrix held up a hand, palm facing away from the bed, when she turned it to face Hermione, she held her deck of cards.
“Funny thing, these cards,” she said with a sly grin, “I picked them up from an old crone in Italy. You see little witch, I hate loosing.”
She paced closer, the bed dipping as she crawled on, kneeing. She held up one card, a low number, so Hermione could see.
“And they make it impossible for me to loose,” Bellatrix tapped the top of the card and before Hermione’s eyes it transformed into the highest card in the deck.
“You lied!” Hermione cried, wiggling, pulling against her restraints, “You tricked me!”
Leaning in, Bellatrix kissed Hermione’s cunt, soft and teasing. Hermione couldn’t hold back a moan. Her heart pounded, blood rushing to her already slick folds. She strained and throbbed as Bellatrix’s tongue flicked out, tasting her.
“It’s not fair,” Hermione said.
Slowly, Bellatrix circled Hermione’s clit, making her tremble, “Life isn’t fair sweet girl.”
Hermione moaned as Bellatrix slid a single finger inside her waiting core. Her body betrayed her, inner walls fluttering around the digit, craving more. With slow, even movements, Bellatrix stroked her, smiling at the noises Hermione made.
Sitting up, she ran the dildo between Hermione’s folds, gathering moisture. Everytime it brushed against Hermione’s throbbing clit it sent a jolt of pleasure through her body. She was so open, so ready and wet, and Bellatrix knew. She lined the tip of the dildo up with Hermione’s slit, but stilled.
“Tell me how unfair this is,” Bellatrix said with a grin, “Tell me how I tricked you into spreading your legs, putting your pretty pussy on display for me. Tell me how cruel it is that I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight, how your virginity will be forever mine.”
Her voice was like silk, her hands wrapping around Hermione’s bound ankles as she steadied herself. Hermione wanted it so badly. She wanted this woman who trapped her, she wanted to be fucked, but the idea scared her. How could she want this? How could she enjoy being tied to the bed so crassly? How could she enjoy the thought of Bellatrix looking at that humiliating magic photograph of her, cunt on full display?
“It’s not fair,” Hermione whimpered, but she tilted her hips, just slightly, desperately craving to be filled.
Bellatrix’s smile widened. With a single trust, she sinks inside Hermione’s cunt. Hermione moaned, mouth forming a perfect O as she was stretched, filled. There’s a pinch of pain but Bellatrix holds still, letting Hermione adjust before pulling out to just the tip, before thrusting again.
Every thrust pressed deep. Bellatrix’s rocking hips, fast and tireless, pounding into her. Hermione’s moans grew louder. The raw feeling of being filled, of being claimed thrilled her. She had been won, a prize like the emerald hung around her neck, the one Bellatrix had reached out to touch, positioning it in the center of Hermione’s chest before brushing a finger across her cheek.
“Mine,” Bellatrix grunted, repeating it on each thrust, “Mine. Mine. Mine mine minemineminemine-“
Bellatrix’s breasts bounced with every movement, her hair spilling across her shoulders. Hermione’s mouth was open, almost drooling as her first orgasm rocked through her body. Bellatrix didn’t slow, and the second was washing over her in quick succession.
“Mine!”
“Yours!” Hermione gasped, voice ragged. The heat in her stomach, twisting, coiling, grew tighter again. It burst again, hot and wild as it flooded through her again. Stars filled Hermione’s vision, and she was dimly aware of a voice- her voice she belatedly realized- screaming with pleasure. Her shriek mingled with Bellatrix’s low throaty moan as she sunk deep into her a final time.
When her vision cleared, Hermione felt the bonds disappear, and she was gently lowered to the bed. Bellatrix cradled her close, pulling the blanket up around them, kissing her forehead with a surprising tenderness.
“Sssh what a good girl you were,” Bellatrix cooed. She stroked Hermione’s hair and Hermione snuggled closer. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yes,” Hermione said through a yawn. As her eyes drifted shut, too heavy to keep open, she felt Bellatrix’s warm mouth brush her’s, stealing one last kiss.
“Then sleep,” Bellatrix murmured, “And dream of me.”