Yes, Sir

Lesson 1: Discovery (prologue)

I originally uploaded chapter 2 as a oneshot, and of course I had to continue! Ive been obsessed with this idea for far too long! 

I feel like I shouldn't have to say this, but minors DNI! Explicit content lies ahead. You are completely responsible for the content you choose to partake in. 

This chapter features quite a lot of interaction between Hermione and an OC. It can be skipped if required, but the OC will probably feature in later chapters (although, this will be his only explicit scene with Hermione)

Enjoy! 

Sometimes the best things in life are unexpected.

Stumbling upon a fetish club in the heart of London, while incidentally being pissed out of her head, had certainly been an unforeseen development for Hermione. Her friends had led the way into the establishment, with a certain naive confidence. Before she had even crossed the threshold, Hermione's inebriated brain had figured out exactly what lay behind the red velvet ropes and butch security guards who did a poor job of concealing their wands. The bar was situated on a popular street in the centre of the muggle capital, and yet there was no queue. Although peculiar, it suggested that, either the establishment was invisible to muggles or they typically avoided it altogether. There was no thumping of drum and bass, as there had been at every other establishment they had attended that evening, which implied a different sort of vibe inside. Whoever had named the bar Red Cherry, had known exactly what they were doing. 

Hermione declined to alert Ginny, Lavender and Luna, who had already stormed through the dark foyer, and were wobbling down the stairs on their too-high heels, simply because she was curious. 

"No man ever made a great discovery without the exercise of the imagination."

Hermione couldn't recall exactly who had uttered those words at that exact moment. She decided, however, that whomever it was had certainly not meant for them to be recalled upon when walking into a sex club. 

Her friends had now reached the bottom of the stairs, and were blissfully none-the-wiser as to what kind of place they had entered. The ceilings were rather low, giving a cosy atmosphere but ultimately reminding one constantly, that they were in a basement under the pavements of London. The room itself was painted a deep, red colour (rather on the nose, Hermione thought), with shiny black marble flooring, and low lighting that added to the ambience. There was a bar to the left, as they entered, and a seating area with plump black leather couches and chairs. A few patrons graced the bar area. One man inparticular, wearing nothing but leather trousers, caught Hermione's attention.

There was nothing so far (other than the shirtless guy) that particularly screamed fetish club, Hermione thought. Men in scant clothing were ten a penny in London, especially in Muggle gay bars. Hermione suspected that the real fun was hidden through one of the doors, that she could see dotted along the walls. 

"Theres no music in here." Ginny whined, earning herself a confused look from the bar tender. Hermione hadn't noticed before, but he appeared to be wearing a collar. 

"Lets go into the other room." Lavender tugged them forward. 

It was rather sadistic indeed for Hermione, to knowingly lead her friends into a place she knew they would not enjoy. It was her own selfish curiosity that drove her forward. Rather ironic really. Although, she couldn't hold a candle to the amount of sadism and masochism that these walls saw every evening. If only they could talk! 

Her own imagination had gotten the better of her at the prospect of entering a fetish club. She was not naive. She had read plenty of erotic novels, and had fingered her dripping slit afterwards, but to no release. It was never quite as good as was portrayed in books. Hermione was not ashamed to admit that she quite fancied the idea of being dominated, but had never been afforded the opportunity. Her previous partners had been unable to perform to her desired standards. If they could not even locate her clitoris, how was she expected to trust them with handcuffs and a blindfold?