"You’re being punished for that." Draco stopped touching her intimately and Hermione whined in protest, arching her lower half to try and get some friction. Draco laughed at her attempts as he flipped her onto her front; conjuring some black ropes and securing her ankles to the bed-posts. The rope hugged her skin sinfully tight - but didn’t chafe - the knots felt like a stark contrast in the best way; pressing into her skin delightfully. He untied her wrists, roughly massaging them before retying them behind her back. He might be a sadist, but he didn’t want his witch to have any circulation complications.