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The black cloth alone that captured her eyes was enough to have her stomach churning and her mind numbing. It pressed down on her eyelids: the only thing left to see were the swirls of colour that coated her imagination. Blair didn’t know where to look, her head leaning up to listen for him but only met by the deafening sounds of shuffling feet and promised nightmares. Tom’s hands captured her wrists, harshly yanking up and earning a gasp from her throat before tying them in a soft cotton fabric to the headboard above her.
Blair’s day had started as normal, occasionally plagued by Tom’s foreboding words and light mumbling. She was sitting in Potions, with him on her right before the class had started when a gaggle of Gryffindor boys came sauntering in. Their lips curved and moved in tandem, infecting the classroom with a cacophony of laughter and unfunny jokes. That was, until, their eyes fell upon Tom.
She had not heard what they whispered to him and, quite frankly, did not care. She knew Tom could handle himself and as the leader of the group looked down to mumble their woes to him, Tom had merely looked ahead - ignoring them as a Lion to a Flea. Much to her dismay, whatever they had said to him had left Tom a conceited mess: only exposed when the two returned to his dorm that evening.
Tom was a jack of all trades yet claimed the throne as the greatest enigma she had met. His eyes bathed in murky waters, while his words tested the depths of social constructs. He was much like a lone shadow on a heath and reminded her of the biting cold that comes and goes when a bird flies across the sun.
His face kept supercilious and numb when he pushed her onto the bed, submerging her sight into perpetual sins. Before allowing Blair to reorientate to her new reliability on the rest of her sensed, he had revoked her touch too while her chest was still panting and her legs squirming to sit up. He didn’t say a word as he stepped back, watching as panic invaded her body.
“Tom,” She called out to him, hoping for some explanation to his sudden reaction, trying to deny the obvious heat that was rushing to her face and stomach. He only dismissed her voice, his eyes trailing down to her legs - she wore her fitted school shirt, along with her slightly rolled skirt (for the original reached below her knees) and tights that covered the rest of her during this rainy season.
He watched in awe as her chest continued to rise and fall rapidly, but didn’t fail to notice how her leg had crossed over the other - the timid movements catching his senses. What was before him was all for him to use - all to obey him. And he was going to take advantage of that.
Blair had long given up in trying to earn a response from him, only straining her ears to check that he was still there - unmoving like a deer in headlights. No, she was the deer in headlights in this analogy. After endless ticking of the watch he wore being the only noise that entranced the room, she heard his footsteps drag closer.
His lean finger ran down her face as she moved her head in a feeble attempt to find the outline of his figure above him only to be stopped by his firm and sudden grip of her jaw - violently pulling her head back to where it was.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Swan,” His sturdy, jaded voice sent her to extraterrestrial universes, mewling at his bruising grip. “You are going to lie there, in silence, while I use you. Make a sound, and I stop. Understand, Swan?”. The name for her sent her into orbit, as she breathed out a ‘Yes’.
“Did I fucking tell you, you could speak?” He spat at her, as her thighs clenched at his response. She didn’t realise her mistake til it was too late and although she was deprived of her ability to see him, Blair could feel the heat that glazed over his eyes. “Well, you ought to receive some sort of punishment, don’t you think, Swan?” He tutted, “So early, we’ve only just started.”
Painstakingly slow, his fingers ran down to the collar of her shirt - like knives cutting through to her heart. The blood was pouring out, bubbling and spurting only to disappear, leaving cuts in their wake. Blair felt the buttons of her blouse come undone, the icy air of Tom’s room sinking into her pores. He spread open the two sides of the shirt - exposing the bra he had bought her.
She sucked in a sharp breath as his fingertips grazed the valley of her chest - barely allowing her any relief before dipping his fingers under the wire to push the bra off her breasts. Her nippled perked at the rough nature of the removal and she attempted to twist her body away from him. The cloth that bound her wrists dug into her skin, resulting in the area become raw and flushed at her attempts.
As quickly as they were there, his fingers were gone and her senses were plunged into darkness again - no real way to know what was occurring around her or what Tom planned next. The wait was long, she daren’t shift her thighs anymore in fear that he would notice and take that pleasure away from her too. Instead, she lay there, suffocating in ignorance to the room behind her eyes. Tick, tock, Swan.
Her legs jolted as they were ripped apart, air hitting the middle of her thin hosiery which was partially drenched in anticipation. Her teeth drew blood from her lips as she willed the moan that threatened to escape to dissipate but her attempt was futile. It departed from her lips like a train on a lonely platform.
“What have you done, Swan? I told you to keep quiet - now I must make you wait even longer.” He preened at her and she could hear the smirk in his lips as his touch left her. Tom’s touch ignited fire when he willed it to, only to leave blistered skin and cracked souls when he had finished. She heard his steps retreat and the armchair that sat at the foot of the bed creaked as he sat.
His view was comparable to the one of the heavens: her torso stretched and arched as it was pulled up by the headboard and her short skirt doing minimal to cover her wet panties and tights. He felt his dick twitch at the thought of peeling them off of her and stretching her still her hole was fitted to him. He watched with a twisted look on her face as her face contorted - she was trying not to move her legs together again, he loved how she knew Tom would only make this hurt more if she dared to do such a thing.
After what those fucking Gryffindor boys said, he was so worked up for the rest of the day: the only thing he wanted was to torture his pretty Swan and watch her inner turmoil as she dripped in arousal. If he wanted to, he could sit there for hours, not allowing her any relief just so he could watch her break.
Seconds stretched to minutes as the dread of what was to come plagued her mind. Time was the worst in this, she had lost all sense of it the moment she was in his presence and it took more from her as she lay: imperceptibly still. Waiting was her biggest enemy, the fiend festered into her mind and took lodging there as body ached to hear a sound from Tom to tell her it was over, that she could finally have what she needs.
After winding minutes of anticipation, she heard him stand. He had picked something up from inside of a drawer and as she heard it roll to a shut, she shuddered at the thought of what it was. “You know, Swan. Now that I’ve had some time to think, I’ve come up with the perfect punishment for you.” He threatened, whispering down at her. Blair had thought the wait without knowing how time passed was her fate, but it was yet to be written.
A faint buzzing caught her ears. No. She knew exactly what he had picked up but before she could process what that meant for her, her suspicions were deemed true. The vibrator pressed deep into her core, pushing her silky, thin panties and rough hosiery into her - the sensation jerked her back to arch away from the sheets, tasting metal as she swallowed back a series of lewd moans and cusses.
She had never felt such opposing feelings before - her underwear was soft and damp but the tights that covered them made the sensitive areas around her pussy erupt in rash, red-hot to touch. She tried to slam her thighs shut, her head lulling as she tried to escape him but Tom’s long fingers left bruises as he pressed her legs into the mattress, wide and exposed.
He slowly began to move the vibrator in leisured circles along her heat, finding her clit as she fought against his hands in response to the device. “Shh, Swan. You wouldn’t want me to stop now, would you?” He cooed and teased, knowing how hard she was battling to keep quiet. He knew she was teetering on the edge of coming as he continued to run the vibrator over her clit when he saw her jaw slacken and her breathing deepen - Tom swiftly retracted his hands from her, looking at the vibrator as it dripped in her wetness that had seeped through the material.
A chuckle escaped him, ”Did you think I was going to let you come so easily for me? You should know better, Blair.” The way he said her name was enough to forgive him from the heinous act he had committed. Her eyebrows were screwed as she willed her legs from closing, feeling her slick seep into the tights that covered her thighs. Blair knew her body was an aching, desperate mess and the thought of him seeing her like this without her seeing it too made her cheeks flush in embarrassment.
The knot that was so close to breaking had eventually, disappeared and the wait suspended all thoughts in her mind. She found that it happened often when she was alone with Tom: she could no longer think for herself, or with any logic - it was as if her mind itself had been injected with a sleeping drug, loopy and fragile.
Pleasure gushed out of her again, and without warning as he began his slow torture once more. Her skirt had ridden up so much, it was practically useless, only covering the top of her hips. Blair couldn’t even feel the pain that engulfed her wrists from the constant friction for the conflicting materials that dipped into her ever so slightly had garnered all her attention. His movements quickened, flicking and rubbing her pussy through her soaked clothing - she could feel herself reaching her orgasm once more when, once more, it was stripped from her.
The fourth time, she felt tears spill from her clenched eyes onto the blindfold and blood drip from her wrists down her arms. Her back ached from trying to hold herself up and what felt like shards of glass had embedded into the skin of her back. Tom had decided to torment her in silence, all she heard were a few soft laughs when he noticed how she tensed and flexed under him.
He hadn’t even touched her and his Swan was already ruined.
Measuredly, his arm removed from between her thighs once more, which shook and jolted - no longer attempting to close on his hand. The cycle had left her hopeless and delusional - all parts of her body weak and sweaty with Tom’s abuse. The buzzing finally stopped and she relaxed in relief: he would finally let her come. “Look at you,” he mewled down at her, not even able to lift her head from the exhaustion, “you took it like such a good girl, Swan. Not even making a sound.”
His hand rested on her thigh, creeping up to her sore, overworked pussy. Her breathing picked up again as he reached the part of her pantyhose that lay, wet, over her core. His fingers sharply pulled at the material, her tights ripping and leaving a hole with just her silky panties covering her arousal. From nave to chops, she was quivering. Shivering at his touch: at the feeling of the binding around her hands above her as it dug into her skin; at the ache that resonated in her shoulders from the pull of the headboard; at the fact that she couldn’t see anything. Her senses were wearing thin and the blindfold was driving her to insanity with the uncertainty that it presented. She never knew what was next, what Tom was to do and it made her shiver with fear. She could feel herself on the edge of an orgasm, begging Tom silently for release.
His fingertips deliberately missed her core, trailing up to her stomach and tracing patterns over the parts he knew made her breathing curl. His rough fingertips and bruising grip finally sent her over the edge, he wasn’t even touching her pussy - hell it wasn’t even exposed - but the overwhelming emotions alone made her cry out.
A train of pornographic moans and whines erupted from her throat as soon as Tom traced her torso, cum spilling out of her and onto the sheets. Her silk panties did little to keep it at bay as it continued to seep out of her. She was too worn and overstimulated to try and find some friction to ride out the orgasm - Tom only watching in amusement at how she came undone without him.
The high slowed, leaving her throat itchy and raw at the sounds she made. Her body couldn’t move, her mind unable to form any words as she felt Tom slowly untie her wrists and blindfold. Her eyes didn’t even need to adjust for the room was bathed in candlelight only and her arms fell limp on the pillow above her as she gazed into Tom’s eyes - her own glassy and glossed over.
She continued to watch him in silence as he helped her clean up, picking her up and placing her on the edge of the bathtub to clean her legs and core. Blair could barely hold herself up but she hadn’t even noticed as Tom took care of her - dressing her in new panties and one of his t-shirts before taking her back into the bedroom.
Tom had grown used to Blair’s silence - she was always like this after he made her finish. Sometimes, Tom overworks her just so he can experience her when she was this way: all clingy and shy. It made him feel powerful; he could control exactly how she felt, illicit the reaction he wanted from her.
He placed her back down onto the bed after changing the sheets with a flick of his wand and watched as she curled up, drowning in his clothes. He smirked at the sight, lying next to her as she nuzzled her head into his shoulder, sleep taking over.
Tick, tock, Swan.