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Discipline and Trust	By : DameOfSlytherin Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female > Hermione/Pansy Views: 20509 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own none of the lovely characters or the story they come from, really, I don't. J.K. Rowling owns and profits from the Harry Potter franchise, I make nothing from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Discipline and Trust
- 1
A/N: This story had been bugging me for a while, so it may seem a little rushed, or disordered. Thats what reviews are for. I might add more, like how Ginny is involved or the rest of Pansy's punishment, or Hermione making Nott cry. And I can't know if you guys want more chapters, if you like it, if there are things that need to be improved, if you (the readers) don't review. So, you know ... go on ... review
Pansy gasped as she was pushed face first down onto a desk, her head being turned at the very last minute. The room they were in was abandoned, in an old corridor that they found when they first started out together. Pansy felt her hands being grabbed and held down above her head, together at the wrists, she understood she was to keep them there. Her skirt was flipped up, to pool in her lower back, and her shirt was push up to under her breasts.
               Pansy was starting to get nervous, she hadn’t been punished in a while, and that is what this was starting to look like. The silence, the quick movements, the impersonal touches. “Ma’am?”
               “I was so proud of you, you were behaving, doing so well in all your classes. But you had to break the rules, didn’t you?” Her mistress’ voice was cold, lacking the definite warmth and affection it had when they were alone together. It held disappointment, something Pansy had worked so hard to make sure wouldn’t be in that voice after the last time she did wrong.
               “I’m sorry, so sorry,” Pansy wanted to babble, to assure her mistress she would never do wrong again, that she would always follow the rules. And the nervous, churning pit in her stomach gave her the feeling her mistress knew all that she had done wrong recently. But Pansy was sure that her mistress couldn’t know about that because the party had been private.
               “What are your six rules to follow at all times, little girl?” Her mistress was kneeling behind her now, removing Pansy’s shoes and rolling down her thigh-highs.
               “To eat three healthy meals a day, to not put myself in danger, to behave respectfully in public, to do my best in all my classes, to come to you if I feel uncomfortable or need anything, and not to allow another to touch me,” Pansy recited all six from memory, remembering the time her and her mistress had sat down and talked over each of them specifically. Immediately though, Pansy felt the sharp sting of her mistress’ slap on her outer thigh. “Ma’am.”
               “Three weeks ago, Thursday. Explain what you did wrong and name the basic rules that you broke,” Her mistress had her hand down Pansy’s panties, rubbing the globes of her ass, squeezing and caressing them. Her other hand was between Pansy’s thighs, playing against her folds, sometimes patting, others pinching. It was wrecking hell on Pansy’s coherency and equilibrium.
               “I went to a party, where I knew Nott would be. While there he tried to touch me and I didn’t immediately stop him as I should have,” Pansy was panting and fighting not to arch into those touches. “I broke the third and last rule, ma’am.”
               “You did break those rules. But you also broke the second, by going to party with excessive drinking and Nott, knowing that he would be after you and both of you would be drunk. I also know that you broke the fifth rule, too. Were you not debating for three weeks whether to come to your mistress, and did you not sit the shower every morning and night, trying to scrub him off of your lips and stomach? How many rules did you break, little girl, and how many swats for each?” Her mistress didn’t sound just cold, she sounded hurt.
               Pansy had known her mistress wouldn’t like her going to that party, that she would see Nott there, but just that morning she had seen a Hufflepuff girl talking to her mistress. She had been kissing her mistress’ neck and mistress wasn’t objecting at all. She’d gone to the party for revenge against her mistress for what she had done. But she didn’t think she had broken so many of the basic rules, that was a lot of swats.
               “I broke four rules, Ma’am, and that’s fifteen swats apiece,” Pansy spread apart her legs, and relaxed her body. It hurt more when it was tensed. But she was stopped by her mistress’ voice.
               “What could have possessed you to break four rules, little girl, and accumulate sixty swats?” Her mistress grabbed a piece of broken quill that was near the edge of the desk and Pansy heard the words that would change its shape. She shivered imagining what her mistress could have changed it into, how bad her punishment was going to be, how hard.
               “I saw you, that morning, with that hufflepuff whore,” Pansy’s voice steadily rose as she spoke the words. “She was touching on you, my mistress, she dared, and you’re mine. My mistress.”
               Pansy was shocked into a yelp by the three hard thwacks on her thigh from whatever her mistress had created. “You forget who owns who here, that you are my little girl, that you are the one that wears My collar. And you broke another rule, by not coming to me after you saw that. She was my old pet, and I was showing her that her touch no longer moves me, that she does nothing for me. All you needed to do was enquire, I don’t stop you from asking questions, little girl, and by stopping yourself you’ve given yourself fifteen more swats.”
               “But, mistress, if you knew I misbehaved, why didn’t you punish me sooner?” Pansy’s question burst forth and she thought she would be punished for the tone but she only got a light slap on her hip. Her mistress had moved to lean against the edge of the desk Pansy was facing away from.
               “I was giving you time to come to me yourself, by not coming I see that you don’t have the trust in me that you should. I am taking steps to rectify this, in moments I will even take the next step,” Just after her mistress finished speaking the door opened across the room, and Pansy could hear the light steps of Ginny Weasley crossing the floor towards them.
               “Mione, is this something new we’re doing?” Pansy could hear Ginny touching Hermione, her hands sliding over her mistress’ clothes. She felt her mistress step away from the desk and Ginny. Pansy grew anxious, wondering if her mistress was going to ask Ginny to be her new little girl, her new little sub, and all because Pansy couldn’t trust her mistress enough. Breaking all kinds of other rules, that she knew she’s be punished even more for, Pansy reared off from the desk and finding Hermione, threw herself around her knees. Ignoring the fact that Ginny didn’t know all the dynamics of their relationship, she started to beg.
               “Oh, mistress, I’m so sorry. Punish me all you want, please, I’m sorry. Just don’t give me away and don’t take a new little girl. I only want to be your little girl, your only little girl. Please, I’m sorry, so sorry. I trust you, tell me how to prove it. Ma’am, please,” Pansy hid her face against Hermione’s thigh and sobbed. She felt her mistress’ hand in her hair and relaxed only slightly.
               “Ginny, I’m sorry, forgive my little girl, she is being punished very soon and feels insecure. She also has forgotten how to behave,” Pansy winced when the hand in her hair tightened and she was guided up and back to the desk. She laid back in position and replaced her hands and cried out when ropes shot out of Hermione’s wand to hold her in place. “Ginny, we’ve played with you a lot lately, but because of her new feelings I’ve decided that for a while I am going to work on Pansy’s trust in me, and this means that we can’t play with you anymore. I’ll let you know if we can again, but not for some time.”
               “Of course, Hermione. Let me know, and I might bring my pet, I didn’t know you had a little girl, we could have been having such fun. But if it’s about trust I completely understand. Time and work are the only answer,” Pansy heard them touching and then Ginny’s retreating steps. And nearly gulped when she felt her mistress’ gaze on her back.
               “I believe I won’t add swats for your most recent behavior, something else is called for, but for now I think I ought to start your punishment, yes?” Hermione’s hands returned to her panties and Pansy felt a terrible pressure, then her panties landed in front of her eyes, torn to ribbons. Pansy shivered in fear and desire at Hermione’s show of dominance, it was Hermione’s way of showing Pansy that she belonged to her, that Hermione could do what she wanted to Pansy and Pansy would welcome it.
               Hermione ran her hands over Pansy’s newly bared bottom, shaping them and sensitizing the skin. Pansy jumped when Hermione’s hand came down suddenly, over and over, not hard and obviously not her punishment. Her hits moved from Pansy’s firm ass to her sit spots, to her thighs. When Hermione deemed her bottom warm enough she ran the transfigured quill, a hairbrush, over the pink flesh. “After each swat you will count and thank your mistress, do you understand, little girl?”
               “Yes, ma’am,” Pansy breathed in slowly and the air came out in a whoosh with the first solid hit on her bottom. “One, thank you, mistress.”
               “Two, thank you, ma’am,” Over and over again, Hermione landed the hairbrush on Pansy, her sit spots, her thighs, the inside of her thighs. Soon, between the ragged numbers, Pansy screamed and begged and tried to wiggle away, only to be pressed back down.
               “Color, little girl?” Hermione waited patiently, a little over half way through the punishment, for Pansy to determine her state.
               “Green, ma’am,” Pansy’s sob clogged throat puffed out. There was a puddle forming on the desk of her tears, spit and mucus. Hermione rubbed her hands lightly over the red and sore bottom, soothing Pansy. Pulling back, she swung again. Later, once Pansy choked out the seventy-five, Hermione tossed the hairbrush onto the desk and gathered the sobbing Pansy into her arms. Pansy felt softness under her legs where Hermione laid her.
               “Good job, you’re forgiven for the party,” She stroked Pansy’s hair, settling with sweet nothings. Her words were honeyed, sliding into Pansy’s body, easing the ache in her cunt and the flames on her ass. “That’s my good little girl, such a good girl.”
               “Ma’am, I am sorry, so sorry, I promise to do my best from now on,” Pansy turned her head and gazed up at Hermione. She caught her breath though when Hermione leaned down and kissed her, Hermione’s tongue stroking hers, soothing her, marking her. Slowly, Hermione’s hand move from her face down her belly and past her bunched skirt. She delved into Pansy’s folds, finding her clit and pinching it, making Pansy gasp and whimper. Her desire came back with a vengeance, twisting inside like a living demon. Pansy rose beneath Hermione’s hand, writhing and squirming, trying to gain a firmer touch, anything to make her come. But Hermione knew exactly how to touch, how to tease and not let Pansy go over. With no warning, Hermione plunged her finger into Pansy, stroking her as deep as she could go, faster and faster, harder and harder, and sent Pansy over the edge, bringing her to orgasm before she knew it was coming. Panting, Pansy grabbed at Hermione’s sleeve, trying to stop her hand from moving anymore, but she wasn’t to be deterred. Her fingers gathered Pansy’s juices and traveled lower, rubbing around the tight hole, pushing but never entering her. She gathered more of Pansy’s juices and returned, pushing harder and popping past the ring of muscles, sliding deeper, in and out. She pushed in a second finger, scissoring and stretching Pansy, loosening the muscles. Pansy must have realized she had no stay in this because she laid back, trying not tense or wince, or interfere.
               “You’re forgiven for going to that party, for all the misbehavior that took place that night, and I will punish Nott separately. But, you are to be punished for lacking faith in me, for believing I would ever give up on you, in any way. This is for your lack of faith in me, in believing that I would touch someone else. We are going to work on your trust in me, and this will help,” Hermione pulled something made of chain from somewhere on her person. Pressure appeared on Pansy’s clit, and something entered both of her passages, they made her feel full but she knew they couldn’t be large. Cold chains pulled tight around her body and connected, one riding up her crack, and another running from the clit clamp. They connected around Pansy’s hips, and came to a plaque that held the chains together. It had the initials H.J.G. engraved on it.
               Pansy fingered the chains around her hips, tugging lightly and looking wildly at Hermione. “Ma’am?”
               “This is your chastity belt, you can’t bring yourself to come, and you definitely don’t want to try going to the loo on your own. You will rely on me for all your bodily functions, come to me if you need to use the bathroom and the only time you can come is when I say. And don’t wear any underwear, I want easy access, when I decide,” Hermione stood and walked over to the desk, pocketing the shredded panties. Holding her hand out to Pansy, she leaned against the desk. Gingerly, Pansy rose to walk but Hermione’s quick hand motion had her on her knees crawling to her. She waited in the kneel position, knees shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind her back, and head down.
               “Who do you belong to, little girl? Who do you want to be owned by? Who did you choose to give yourself to?”
“You, only you, mistress.”
               “I want you to remember that, to remember that at any time you can end this, if that’s what you want.”
               Pansy’s head jerked up, her eyes wide and pleading, before she remembered the position she was supposed to maintain. “Ma’am, please, I only want to belong to you. When- when you talk like this, I-I get scared, that you won’t want me, and that you want me to go.”
               “No, I don’t. I’m in this, for as long as I can. I needed to remind you, though, that you hold the power here,” Slowly, Hermione’s fingers pulled Pansy’s head up, and pulled her body after it. She drew Pansy into her embrace, devouring her mouth. Pulling back, she brushed Pansy’s clothes out, making her look presentable, like she hadn’t just been spanked then fingered, then chained in a belt. “Come, little girl, I’ll walk you to your dorm.”
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Discipline and Trust