Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: woldy
From: A Wicked Watcher: dexstarr

Title: Reading Between the Lines
Characters/Pairings: Rita Skeeter/Hermione Granger
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: Orgasm denial, D/s, bondage, begging
Other Warnings/Content: Cross-gen
Word Count: ~1,400
Summary/Description: Rita needs a new playtoy.
Author's Notes: Mystery Recipient, I hope you enjoy! I’m sorry it isn’t pornier.


Experienced domme in search of a new playtoy. Beginners welcome. Discretion required.
ad posted in The Daily Prophet personals section

*

Good afternoon,

I wouldn’t normally reply to an ad like yours, but … I confess … I find myself compelled to do so. Are you still … available?

H.

*

Tell me why you replied to my ad, when you claim it’s not something you would normally do.

*

Good afternoon,

Your ad was simple. Unlike anyone else’s. You know exactly what you want. You don’t need to claim experience you probably don’t have, or tell stories of what you’ve probably not done. I like confidence. It’s … arousing. It’s inspiring. It gives me confidence in you.

H.

*

I read what you crossed out. I’m an expert at reading between the lines.

I have one instruction for you. How you reply dictates if, and how, we proceed.

You aren’t allowed to touch yourself until I give you permission.

*

Yes … Mistress. I will obey.

H.

*

Meet me at the address below next Monday, at 1:00 P.M.

*

Rita is sitting on the bed when Hermione knocks on the door. It is 1:00 P.M. sharp; she knew the younger woman would be punctual.

She assumes it is Hermione, anyway—there are two knocks. The first is hesitant, with a short pause before the second rap. Rita well knows the sound of hesitation, and of debating what one is about to do.

“Come in.” Magicking the door open, she crosses her legs, ensuring that her black skirt stretches just the right way over her upper thighs.

An unfortunately familiar head of bushy brown hair pokes into the doorway. Rita watches, amused, as Hermione Granger’s eyes go wide.

“Rita Skeeter?”

Hermione reels backwards, as if she is going to run. Her lips form the shape of Rita’s name again and again, but nothing more than a squeak emerges.

“Stay.”

Stumbling into the room, Hermione shuts the door with a kick of her foot. “You—you—you tricked me!” She crosses her arms defiantly across her chest, brown eyes blazing in a way Rita remembers from newspaper features after the war. She didn’t write any herself, which is a pity—that anger would have been fun to tame.

Sighing, Rita shakes her head. While she expected this reaction, it is tiresome. “No. I never said who I was, and, in fact, I gave you a clue as to my identity. I read between the lines, remember?” She waves her hand lazily. “What happened in the past doesn’t matter. You’re here because you said you respected experience, and that, my dear, I have in spades. I know just what to do with little girls like you.”

Pushing herself smoothly off the bed, Rita crosses the room in ten measured steps. “The only thing that matters now is if you are going to obey me or not.” She traces the line of Hermione’s jaw with the tip of her thumbnail, barely touching the younger woman’s skin.

Hermione shudders under the whispery touch, a myriad of emotions passing over her face. She chews her lower lip, looking everywhere but at Rita. “I don’t know what to do,” she says at last.

“Have you had your fingers in that cunt of yours? Fantasizing about the domme of your dreams? Were you busy after my letters, hmm?”

“I—what!—no!”

Rita smiles at the redness rising in Hermione’s cheeks. “Then it sounds like you’ve already made your decision. Stay. You might as well, you’re already here. If you don’t enjoy yourself, you never have to come back. However, I’m sure you will,” she says, infusing confidence into her words. It is the right tactic: surrender darkens Hermione’s brown eyes. “So, are you going to obey me or not?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Hermione tries to look down, but Rita stops her with a finger under her chin. “Yes, mistress.”

“Good girl,” Rita croons, and then she yanks Hermione to the bed, pushing her to her knees. With a flick of her wand, she makes sure the door is triple locked. She really did mean what she wrote about discretion, and with a war hero kneeling in front of her, she has to protect herself.

Rita turns her wand to her skirt next, Vanishing the garment. She isn’t wearing any knickers. Spreading her stocking-clad thighs, she beckons to Hermione. “Get me off,” she orders.

Hermione sputters in shock but moves to obey, hands settling on Rita’s thighs.

What follows is a textbook rendering of how to give oral sex. Hermione caresses the insides of Rita’s thighs, kissing her way to the older woman’s sex. The first few licks are tentative until Hermione eases into it, eventually becoming brave enough to slide her tongue into Rita. Most of her attention is focused on Rita’s clitoris, which she sucks steadily, fluttering her tongue around the nub.

Rita lets her work for a while. The untutored movements of the younger woman’s mouth are arousing in a way, but on the whole, Hermione’s actions are ineffectual.

Twisting her fingers into Hermione’s hair, she pulls her head up. “Did you read a book on how to perform cunnilingus?”

“Yes.”

“I can just imagine you buying a book on that. Did you turn red in the checkout queue?”

Hermione shakes her head as much as she can. “I went on the Internet. It’s a Muggle thing,” she adds.

Rita laughs. She knows what the Internet is. “That’s cheating, pet. Next time I’ll make you go to a bookshop and buy a proper guide.” Loosening her grip on Hermione’s hair, she guides her up onto the bed. “Or I suppose I can be nice and show you what I like.”

Wand coming out again, she snaps it at each of Hermione’s limbs, binding her to the bed. One last gesture and Hermione’s clothing disappears. The younger woman is much more attractive this way, with only black leather gleaming around her wrists and ankles.

Experienced, Rita is quick enough that Hermione doesn’t react until she is finished. Then the younger woman fights against her bondage, testing the strength of the leather and Rita’s magic. “I didn’t agree to this!” she yelps.

“Shush.” Rita thrusts a hand between Hermione’s legs, smirking when she encounters wetness. “I can tell you like it, so quit protesting. Your body betrays you, pet.” Popping a finger into her mouth, she tastes Hermione’s arousal. “Very nice.”

Straddling Hermione’s hips, Rita palms her breasts. “Little girls like you are putty in my hands.” She pinches Hermione’s nipples between thumb and forefinger, rolling and tugging until they harden. Hermione writhes beneath her, a look of wonder on her face. “See? One touch, and you’re probably ready to explode.”

Reaching behind her, Rita plunges two fingers into Hermione. As predicted, Hermione is wetter than before. A few more minutes and the younger woman will be dripping onto the bedding. “No one’s made you feel like this before, have they?” Hands back on Hermione’s breasts, she continues to play with her nipples, twisting and squeezing.

“Nooo,” Hermione wails.

Rita is a little surprised at the speed with which she is getting to Hermione. She hasn’t played with someone so responsive in a while. It is good that Hermione is; Rita prefers when her toys dance under her hands.

Adjusting her position, she kneels next to Hermione, so that she can have one hand on her tits and the other in her cunt. Soon Hermione is fighting in earnest against the leather cuffs, eyes glazed over, lower lip marred with teeth marks. Playing Hermione like an instrument spikes Rita’s own arousal.

“P-please!” The plea bursts from Hermione’s mouth, followed by whimpers.

“Well, well. Who would have thought Little Miss Perfect would end up like this? Begging to come, and I’ve barely touched you,” Rita snickers. “What would you do to be allowed to come?” The words are accompanied by sharp pinches to Hermione’s nipples, and a thumb stroking over her clit.

Hermione yanks at the cuffs, making the headboard rattle. “Anything!”

Rita clucks her tongue. “That’s not very creative, pet. For that, I think I’ll make you wait.” After one last rub to Hermione’s clit, she lifts up her hands.

“Please! I need to come,” Hermione begs.

“No.” Rita savors the result the word has on Hermione: the younger woman shakes, looking at her desperately. Her fingers curl into fists, heels kicking at the bed. “You have to make me come first, and you’d better do a good job this time if you want an orgasm tonight.”

Planting her cunt over Hermione’s face, Rita spreads herself open. “Get on with it, pet.”