Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
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17th June 2011 23:01 - Fic: Prized (Draco/Hermione, NC17)
Title: Prized
Author: [info]ldymusyc
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Exhibitionism.
Other Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1000
Summary/Description: A precious treasure is infinitely more valuable when Draco's the only one who gets to touch.
Author's Notes: No, I have no idea where they are. Private play party? Kink club? Choose your own adventure! XD



Hermione stands with her arms at her sides. Behind her, Draco attaches the long velvet lead to her collar and slides two fingers down her bare back to the silver chain that circles her waist. Dangling from it, against her naked hip, is a pendant in the shape of a dragon, the symbol of his possession. Draco strokes the cleft of her arse and Hermione shivers, automatically leaning forward an inch to thrust her buttocks higher. Draco makes a quiet noise of approval and pats her with affection. "Up," he says, and Hermione straightens, returning to her position. The soft mask fastened over her eyes prevents her from seeing Draco's face, but she knows he is examining her, his grey eyes dark and hooded behind his own mask. He hums thoughtfully, and Hermione gasps as he grips her nipples, pinching them hard. "Much better," Draco says and pats her cheek. The velvet lead slides over her shoulder and a door creaks in front of her.

Immediately, she hears murmuring voices, soft laughter, low moans. The air is scented with jasmine and musk; the floor Draco leads her across is soft as a cloud beneath her toes. She follows him with confidence, her head high, her limbs relaxed. Draco says "stop" and Hermione halts instantly, taking position without the need to think. The low voices are closer now and despite her trust in Draco's plans for the evening, her breath quickens. She cannot see the watchers, but she can feel the weight of their gazes. Her hands twitch at her sides, but before she can do more than think of moving one to cover the trimmed curls of her mound, Draco's fingers are on her. Three fingers giving three short squeezes in the hollow of her hip remind her that he is there, remind her of his promise that no hands would touch her but his, and she exhales slowly to calm her breathing.

Draco speaks quietly, instructing her. She obeys in the slow, graceful motions he taught her with such patience. Two steps forward to kneel on a low, padded platform. Lean forward and place forearms down, grasp the metal rings. Spread thighs. Point toes. Lower head.

The position raises her arse, exposes the pink folds of her cunt. Draco adjusts her belly chain, moving the dragon pendant to rest in the small of her back. His fingers tickle down her cleft and between her labia to open them. Hermione rests her forehead on the platform and tries not to tremble. She had asked for this, she wanted this, but doing it is a far different cry from dreaming it. She can hear the rustle of robes as people move closer, hear the soft whispers as she is noticed.

"Lovely cunt," a woman's voice says. "Good color, excellent shape. Your work?"

"All natural," Draco says and Hermione's heart races at the pride in his voice. Her cunt clenches and she tilts her buttocks higher. Draco's hand settles on her back, strokes along her spine. "Not a charm on her."

"Lucky bastard," the woman says. "May I play?"

Hermione bites her lip but remains still. Draco touches her hair and lays his hand over the back of her neck, his fingers moving against her collar. "No," he says. "Tonight is only for show."

The woman gives a disappointed sigh and moves away, leaving Hermione to exhale in relief. Draco traces the curve of her shoulder blades. "There, you see?" he says to her, his voice pitched low. "Everyone here will take no for an answer. You're safe, precious. Everyone will look, but no one will touch."

"Thank you," she whispers, lifting her head enough to make her words clear for him. "Thank you, master."

"You're doing very well," he tells her, and Hermione shivers with pleasure at the praise. Draco rubs her arse and cups her cunt. Hermione moans as he easily slips two fingers into her, her cunt wet and open for him. "Very well," he says, his voice dropping into that deep, rumbling purr she loves so much. He strokes her, fucking her on his hand, and Hermione clutches the rings of the platform, her forehead pressed hard to it as she struggles with the desire to push back against his fingers.

Draco laughs and withdraws his hand. Hermione stifles a groan of protest, then gasps as Draco reaches beneath her and pulls hard at one of her nipples. "Ready for more?" he asks, tweaking the other even harder. Hermione yelps and babbles at him, her words not even close to English, but Draco understands. He touches her fingers and commands her to release the rings, to sit up on her knees. Guiding her with soft directions and gentle touches, he positions her on the platform, flat on her back, her legs spread wide. The dragon pendant on her belly chain rests in the dip of her navel. She can feel a small damp spot beneath her arse and her skin tingles with heat as she realizes the moisture came from her, from the juices dripping from her cunt.

She hears the crack of a chair, the rustle of Draco's robes. He sits beside her, one hand on her stomach in a gesture of possession. Hermione takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, her hands tucked under her neck. "You're doing well," he tells her again, his voice almost in a purr. "Everyone is watching you. They're all looking at you, seeing you spread out and displayed like this. They want you. I can see how much they want you." Draco caresses her in long, slow strokes, his fingers trailing around her breasts and over her hips. "But you're mine."

She spreads her thighs wider to open her cunt for his seeking fingers, arches her back to thrust her stiff nipples into prominence. Her blood rushes hot and her heart pounds. Draco touches her, praises her, shows her off as his prized treasure. Hermione shivers. His. His.
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