Day 8 - Primal Play/Consensual Non-Consent/Rape Play

Day 8 - Primal Play/Consensual Non-Consent/Rape Play

****Trigger Warning - Consensual Non-Consent/Rape Play with very clear Safe/Sane/Consensual****

The air was thick with anticipation, the moon casting long shadows over the dense woods surrounding Black Manor. The leaves crunched underfoot as Hermione Granger sprinted through the trees, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the cool night air against her bare skin, her pulse racing as she darted between branches, her feet quick but her mind even quicker, scanning for places to hide.

Behind her, somewhere in the shadows, Bellatrix was hunting her.

The thrill of it coursed through Hermione's veins, a mix of fear and arousal that made her every nerve come alive. This game, this ritualistic chase, was something they both loved. On nights when the stars were hidden behind the thick canopy of trees, when the darkness was so deep it seemed to swallow them whole, Bellatrix and Hermione indulged in their most primal desires.

A naked hunt.

Hermione's body thrummed with adrenaline as she moved deeper into the woods, her muscles tense, her senses heightened. Every crack of a twig, every rustle of leaves felt like a warning that Bellatrix was close, far too close. But that was the thrill of it. She wanted to be caught—eventually. But not too soon.

She had to earn her capture.

The ground was cold beneath her feet, though she and Bellatrix had wisely kept their boots on for better traction. Everything else—their robes, their clothes—had been stripped away, discarded back at the manor. The cold air bit at Hermione's skin, but the heat coursing through her veins made it bearable, almost delicious.

A sharp crack behind her made Hermione's heart skip a beat, and she turned her head just in time to see a flicker of movement through the trees.

She was close.

Hermione's breath quickened as she pushed herself harder, darting around a thick oak tree, her bare skin brushing against rough bark. She knew she couldn't outrun Bellatrix forever. That wasn't the point. The chase was what they both craved—the way it heightened their senses, made their inevitable collision all the more intense.

Bellatrix loved the hunt. It was in her blood, Hermione was sure of it. There was something feral in her wife's eyes on nights like these, something dangerous and predatory that sent shivers of anticipation down Hermione's spine.

Hermione's breath came in ragged gasps as she pressed herself against a tree, her body slick with sweat despite the cool night air. She strained her ears, listening for any sign of Bellatrix. The forest was alive with the sounds of the night—owls hooting in the distance, the rustling of leaves in the breeze—but there was no sign of her hunter.

For a brief moment, Hermione thought she had managed to lose her. But just as that thought crossed her mind, a voice, low and dangerous, cut through the darkness.

"Hiding, love?"

Hermione's heart leapt into her throat. Bellatrix's voice was close—too close. She could hear the wicked amusement in her tone, the thrill of the chase that sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between Hermione's legs.

"I can smell you," Bellatrix's voice purred, the words sending a shiver down Hermione's spine. "Your fear. Your arousal. You can't hide from me, Hermione. I will find you."

Hermione's pulse raced, her body trembling with a mixture of anticipation and fear. She knew she could stop this at any moment. The safeword— Ashwinder —was there, a whisper on her tongue if she needed it. But she didn't want to stop. The thrill of being hunted, of being caught, was too intoxicating.

With a sharp intake of breath, Hermione bolted from her hiding spot, sprinting deeper into the woods. She could feel Bellatrix behind her now, moving swiftly through the trees, her footfalls silent, like a predator stalking its prey. The primal part of Hermione's brain screamed at her to run faster, to escape, but the more rational part knew she didn't want to escape.

She wanted to be caught.

But that wasn't the game.

Hermione's breath came in ragged bursts, her muscles burning with exertion as she pushed herself harder, faster, weaving through the dense trees in a desperate attempt to put distance between them. The thrill of the chase sent a rush of adrenaline through her veins, her body thrumming with anticipation as she listened for any sign of Bellatrix behind her.

She knew Bellatrix was close. Too close. But Hermione wasn't going to make this easy. That wasn't how they played.

The game had been carefully crafted, their roles meticulously defined. Bellatrix was the predator—ruthless, relentless, always in control. Hermione was the prey, running, fighting, screaming as if she didn't want it, as if every fiber of her being wasn't aching to be caught and claimed. But it was all planned. Every movement, every scream, every desperate cry for help—it was all part of the act.

And Hermione loved it.

Her mind flickered back to the first night they had agreed to play this game, when Bellatrix had set the rules in that low, dangerous voice that still made Hermione shiver. Safe. Sane. Consensual.

A sane Bellatrix was a lot more fun to play with than the crazed bitch who had once carved Mudblood into her arm during the war. Still, playing insane? That could be exhilarating, as long as they had their safeword.

Hermione gritted her teeth, her legs burning as she dodged low-hanging branches and twisted roots, her body pushing against its limits. Bellatrix was giving her a real chase tonight, making her work for it. She could hear her now, a low, feral growl echoing through the trees, so close that Hermione's heart leapt in her chest.

Her wife was a natural predator. There was something dangerous about the way Bellatrix moved in the darkness, something primal that sent a thrill of fear through Hermione's body even though she knew this was all a game.

Hermione's lungs burned, her body screaming for her to stop, but she pushed herself harder, determined to last just a little longer before the inevitable. She could hear Bellatrix's footsteps gaining on her, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot as she closed in.

And then, with a sharp cry, Bellatrix was on her.

Hermione yelped as Bellatrix tackled her from behind, the force of her body sending them both crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Bellatrix's hands were on her in an instant, rough and possessive, pinning her wrists to the forest floor as she loomed over her, her eyes wild with hunger.

Hermione gasped, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled against Bellatrix's hold, her body writhing beneath her wife's powerful grip. She kicked out, trying to push Bellatrix off of her, but Bellatrix only smirked, her grip tightening as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against Hermione's ear.

"You thought you could run from me?" Bellatrix growled, her voice low and dangerous, filled with dark amusement. "You know better than that, Hermione."

Hermione's breath hitched, her body trembling beneath Bellatrix's weight as she bucked her hips, trying to throw her off. "Let me go!" she screamed, her voice filled with mock desperation as she thrashed beneath Bellatrix, her nails digging into the dirt as she fought back.

Bellatrix's laugh was dark, feral, as she pressed her body against Hermione's, pinning her even harder to the ground. "No," she hissed, her eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction as she leaned in, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear. "You're mine now, and I'm going to take what's mine."

Hermione's breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as she felt Bellatrix's hands sliding down her sides, her nails scratching lightly against Hermione's bare skin. The cold of the night air was sharp against her body, but the heat of Bellatrix's touch was enough to set her on fire.

"Please," Hermione gasped, her voice breaking as she squirmed beneath Bellatrix. "Don't do this. Don't—"

But Bellatrix's hands were already moving lower, her fingers tracing the curve of Hermione's hips, teasing, threatening. "You know you love it when I take you like this," Bellatrix growled, her voice rough as her hand slipped between Hermione's legs, spreading her thighs open with a firm, possessive grip. "Tell me, love. Tell me you want it."

Hermione's mind was spinning, the lines between fear and arousal blurring as Bellatrix's fingers teased her, brushing against her most sensitive spot with deliberate, calculated strokes. She fought against it, pushing her legs together, trying to resist, but Bellatrix's grip tightened, her fingers sliding deeper, teasing her, making her body respond against her will.

"I—no," Hermione gasped, her voice trembling as she writhed beneath Bellatrix's touch. "No... please—"

But her body betrayed her. She was wet, slick with arousal despite her protests, and Bellatrix knew it. Her wife smirked down at her, her eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction as she pressed her fingers harder against Hermione's core, making her gasp.

"Don't lie to me, Hermione," Bellatrix growled, her breath hot against Hermione's neck as her fingers continued their relentless assault. "You want this. You've always wanted this."

Hermione's breath came in ragged bursts, her body trembling as Bellatrix pushed her further, deeper. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with every rough stroke of Bellatrix's fingers, but Hermione wasn't going to give in that easily.

With a sharp cry, Hermione twisted her body, managing to break free of Bellatrix's hold just long enough to push herself up onto her hands and knees. She scrambled forward, trying to crawl away, but Bellatrix was faster. With a growl of frustration, Bellatrix grabbed Hermione's ankle, yanking her back toward her with a force that sent Hermione crashing back to the ground.

"You're not getting away that easily," Bellatrix snarled, her eyes wild as she pulled Hermione back beneath her, pinning her down once more. "You're mine."

Hermione struggled, kicking out as Bellatrix's body pressed against hers, but it was no use. Bellatrix was stronger, faster, and the primal hunger in her eyes made it clear that she wasn't going to stop until she had taken everything she wanted.

"Stop!" Hermione screamed, her voice raw as she thrashed beneath Bellatrix. "Stop, please!"

But Bellatrix didn't stop. She reached between them, her fingers moving with practiced precision as she whispered a spell. Hermione gasped as she felt the shift—magic coursing through the air as Bellatrix's clit lengthened and thickened, transforming into a smooth, thick pseudo-cock.

"You're going to take all of me," Bellatrix growled, her voice low and dangerous as she positioned herself between Hermione's thighs, pressing the head of her transformed cock against Hermione's slick entrance. "Every inch."

Hermione's body tensed, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she felt Bellatrix push forward, the smooth, thick length sliding into her with a slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, stretching her in ways that left her breathless, her body trembling with both fear and arousal as Bellatrix filled her completely.

"Fuck," Hermione gasped, her nails digging into the dirt as her body arched against Bellatrix's, the pleasure bordering on pain as Bellatrix thrust deeper, harder.

The primal need in Bellatrix's eyes burned like fire as she drove into Hermione with unrelenting force. Each thrust was rough and demanding, sending shockwaves of sensation through Hermione's trembling body. The smooth, thick length of Bellatrix's pseudo-cock stretched Hermione further with every movement, the overwhelming fullness making her toes curl as she fought to keep her control.

Bellatrix's growl was low, feral, as she gripped Hermione's hips tighter, pulling her back into each punishing thrust. The sound of their bodies colliding echoed through the forest, the wet heat between Hermione's thighs mingling with the earthy scent of the woods and the cold air biting at their skin. There was something raw and animalistic about the way Bellatrix took her, her movements more instinct than thought, more need than care.

Hermione tried to push back, to twist free, but Bellatrix was stronger, her body pressing Hermione down against the dirt, trapping her beneath the weight of her primal desire. The rough bark of the tree scratched against Hermione's skin, but she barely noticed it—her mind was too consumed by the intensity of Bellatrix inside her, driving her to the brink of madness.

"You think you can fight me?" Bellatrix snarled, her voice sharp as she pressed her chest against Hermione's back, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of Hermione's neck. "You think you can resist me?"

Hermione's breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with each brutal thrust. The primal fear and excitement coursing through her veins only heightened her senses, every sound, every touch amplified as Bellatrix took her harder, deeper. She tried to pull away, but Bellatrix's hand wrapped around her throat, not squeezing, just a reminder of who was in control.

Hermione's nails dug deeper into the dirt, her body jerking as Bellatrix pounded into her, her cock slick and throbbing with each movement. "No—" Hermione gasped, her voice breaking as the pleasure surged through her, her mind foggy with desire. "No, Bella—"

But her body betrayed her. She was soaking wet, slick with arousal, and every time Bellatrix drove into her, it pushed Hermione closer to the edge, closer to losing herself completely. She could feel the knot of pleasure tightening in her core, building higher with every thrust, but she wasn't ready to give in yet. Not yet.

Bellatrix's laughter was dark and cruel as she bit down on Hermione's shoulder, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh, sending a wave of pain and pleasure crashing through her. "You can scream all you want, love," Bellatrix growled, her voice thick with lust as she moved faster, her hips slamming against Hermione's with brutal force. "But we both know you want this. You crave it."

Hermione's body jerked beneath Bellatrix's as the words sank in, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The primal desire swirling in her mind was overwhelming now, the need to be taken, to be claimed, driving her wild. She could feel the heat building between her legs, her body responding to Bellatrix's every touch, every thrust, as her muscles clenched around the thick length inside her.

Bellatrix grinned against Hermione's skin, her breath hot and heavy as she leaned in closer, her hips never faltering. "You're going to come for me, Hermione," she whispered, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "You're going to scream my name."

Hermione's breath hitched, her nails digging into the dirt as Bellatrix's thrusts grew harder, more desperate. The heat between them was unbearable now, the primal need to claim and be claimed consuming them both. Hermione's body arched beneath Bellatrix, her muscles trembling as she felt the edge of release approaching fast, too fast.

"Say it," Bellatrix growled, her grip tightening on Hermione's hips as she thrust deeper, harder, her cock pulsing with every movement. "Say you're mine."

"No," Hermione gasped, her voice shaking as she fought against the overwhelming pleasure building inside her. "No, Bella, I—"

But the words caught in her throat as Bellatrix thrust into her with brutal force, hitting the perfect spot inside her that made Hermione's vision blur, her mind spinning as the pleasure exploded through her body.

"Say it!" Bellatrix snarled, her voice rough and demanding as she slammed into Hermione one final time, her hips grinding against her, making sure Hermione felt every inch of her inside. "Say it, Hermione!"

Hermione's breath came in shallow, ragged bursts, her body trembling violently as the pleasure reached its peak, the knot inside her snapping as her orgasm tore through her. She screamed, her nails digging into the earth as her body convulsed beneath Bellatrix, her muscles clenching tight around the thick length inside her, milking every last drop of her release.

"Bellatrix!" Hermione cried, her voice hoarse as her body trembled with the intensity of her orgasm. "I'm yours—I'm yours!"

Bellatrix's laughter was low and satisfied as she slowed her thrusts, her hips grinding against Hermione's as she rode out the last waves of their shared pleasure. The primal hunger that had driven them both was fading now, replaced by a deep, satisfied exhaustion that left them breathless and trembling in the aftermath.

"You're mine," Bellatrix whispered, her voice soft but filled with dark satisfaction as she pressed her lips to Hermione's neck, her breath warm against her skin. "You'll always be mine."

Hermione's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her body still shaking from the intensity of her release. The rough bark of the tree was a distant sensation now, the cool night air biting at her skin as the heat between them began to dissipate. She could feel Bellatrix's cock still buried deep inside her, still hard, but the primal need that had driven them had been sated, for now.

Bellatrix's hands slid up Hermione's body, her touch gentler now as she pulled her close, wrapping her arms around her wife's trembling form. Hermione leaned back into the embrace, her body spent but her heart racing as the aftermath of their primal play settled over them.

"You did well," Bellatrix murmured, her voice a low, approving growl as she pressed a kiss to Hermione's shoulder. "You always do."

Hermione smiled, her breath finally evening out as she turned her head slightly, meeting Bellatrix's dark, satisfied gaze. There was something primal, something raw and real in the way they connected on nights like these—something that went beyond words, beyond the games they played.

It was trust. It was knowing that no matter how hard they pushed each other, no matter how wild the chase, they would always come back to this—to each other.

"You know," Hermione said softly, her voice still shaky but filled with warmth, "one of these nights, I might actually get away from you."

Bellatrix smirked, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement as she pulled Hermione closer, her lips brushing against her ear. "You can try, love," she whispered, her voice low and dangerous. "But you'll never escape me."