"Hush, Muddy I know you need relief, I’ll help you". Hermione wasn’t naive enough to trust the maddest and meanest Death Eater, but her resolve was faltering as she was praised for being a good girl for not struggling. She felt the sphere in her pussy rumble increasingly energetically as a reward for good behaviour. The Black sisters seemed to have a perverse control over her body. "Your slutty puss belongs to Voldermort so I can’t to anything about your pretty laces..." Hermione hated the musical noise that accompanied the witch's idle chat, as long fingers ghosted over her cuntlips, but she found her body naturally present itself in position two as Mistress Narcissa's training was now deeply ingrained in her psyche. "Yes, good girl, I can see my sister’s deportment lessons have taken hold". Hermione basked momentarily in the praise, closing her eyes trying to savour the not entirely unfamiliar dopamine hit. Bellatrix took advantage of Hermione’s lack of concentration to unhook each manacle from her collar and lock them securely to the butt plug. "Well Muddy, you need to work a bit". Bellatrix guided the imprisoned hands to show her new pet how she could manage a blunt stabbing motion, if she energetically seesawed her hands backwards and forwards. Hermione had become so accustomed to the complete curtailment of choices, that even though her own actions felt like a jackhammer as she reamed the squat appendage that stoppered the sphincters of her arse and rectum, she continued nonetheless trying to ride through the acute pain to get the relief of a climax. Her simple reality was that pleasure no longer existed without some pain or debasement, she reasoned that if she applied herself to the task at hand she might get further compliments or stoke herself to completion with the anal plug.