Hermione shivered when reading these directions in his familiar spidery script. This was really happening. She was trembling, partially from cold, partially from terror. And at the same time, she was also cognizant of the arousal flushing her skin as well. She wanted this. She followed his instructions, fastening the gag and then the blindfold before climbing into the bench with the bell at hand. The gag had leather straps to attach around her head, and a ball with holes in it that fit comfortably into her mouth. It held her mouth open but didn’t strain her jaw. Her teeth rested comfortably against it and her tongue was tempted to explore the surface. She quickly noticed that, strapped in as she was, with her face leaning downwards, saliva that pooled in her mouth was impossible to swallow and instead dripped out through the gag, likely dripping onto the floor below. Her cheeks flushed with the image she must present, plugged arse in the air, the legrests forcing her bottom up slightly, causing an exaggerated extension in her spine, and limbs strapped down as she drooled through her gag. Regardless, if this was what it took to prove her desire to be submissive, it was an embarrassment that she would survive.