The Brightest Witch

BY : Neptune20
Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes
Dragon prints: 7342
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. No money either.

Chapter 1
I’m Ready


Hermione waved goodbye to her friends, leaving the platform for the summer with her parents. She knew that the fiasco with rescuing Sirius, and all the things surrounding that, meant she finally had to explain to her parents exactly what had been happening at school the last few years. She’d done a good job of keeping the events of her life at school from her parents, but that couldn’t continue. That’s not how good girls behaved.

“Mum… dad…” she started as they got into the car.

“Yes, sweetheart?” her father called from the front, looking into the mirror as he began to pull out of the parking lot.

“I… you should punish me.” Hermione’s face began to blaze and she averted her gaze, but even so she could still feel the piercing eyes of her parents. A few seconds passed.

“Sweetie,” her mom started slowly. “You know that’s not something we’ll let you decide until you’re 15. We’ve talked about this.”

“Why do you think you should be punished?” her father asked.

“I… I haven’t been a good girl,” Hermione said softly. “I haven’t told you about the things happening at school.”

Another few moments of silence passed, and then her mother spoke again.

“Well why don’t you tell us on the way home?”

And so she did. Once she started recounting the tales of her experiences at school, and what had really been happening, she couldn’t slow herself down. It was like a dam bursting where once the process was started there was nothing that could stop it.

Her parents listened in silence, only speaking up here and there to ask clarifying questions. By the time Hermione was finished, and they were approaching home, their faces looked uncertain and cloudy to the young witch. She’d hated the distance that these lies had caused between her and her parents, and even though she knew they would be furious, she was glad they’d told him.

“I think…” Hermione’s mother, Elizabeth, started. She glanced at her husband Michael. “Sweetie, why don’t you take your things up to your room. Your father and I will discuss this.”

Hermione’s head hung low as she mumbled an acknowledgment, and in a few seconds she had started inside the house with her things. Michael and Elizabeth sat in the front seats for a few seconds in quiet before Elizabeth finally spoke up.

“What should we do Michael? You know that removing her from the school would devastate her.”

“Yes,” Michael agreed, nodding slowly. “I’m more confused by her request. She wants us to punish her? I understand the feeling she’s expressing, and why, but a part of me… Elizabeth, should we have really shared that with our daughter?”

Elizabeth looked at her husband as if he were stupid.

“Michael, that girl is the most intelligent and mature 14-year-old girl that I’ve ever met in my life. Our daughter may have many flaws, but I don’t think any of them were caused by of our lifestyle.”

“We agreed though that we wouldn’t allow her to choose until she was 15.”

“That will happen in a few months while she’s at school.” Elizabeth paused for a moment. “Perhaps we shouldn’t be quite as rigid about age. Michael, it sounds like she really needs us.”

“Yes,” Michael agreed. “But you know what this is like. If you make this kind of choice for the wrong reasons, it can be unhealthy. Plus, where will we find the right partners for her?”

Elizabeth scoffed at the question.

“Did you hear anything our daughter told us?” she asked. “Obviously it has to be someone she goes to school with, and it’s equally obvious that the boy she mentioned, Harry Potter, is in desperate need of control in his life.” She paused. “A part of me wonders if she brought it up to us knowing that it would benefit him. If she’s not just doing this for his benefit, to give him that kind of control.”

“So then you think we should agree?” Michael asked cautiously.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I do.”


Hermione sat in her room, wondering what her parents would decide.

I asked to be punished, she gulped. But the longer she thought about it the more sure she was of her request.

Hermione had not been raised in a normal house-hold. She knew this from a very young age. Her parents were somewhat affluent due to their professions, and they were also both highly intelligent people who loved learning and the search for knowledge. Those alone would separate her from many other families.

But it wasn’t that which made her family so abnormal, it was the relationship her parents shared.

Since before she’d been born her parents had engaged in a very particular kind of sexual dynamic, one where there was an exchange of control and power. They had never hidden it from her, but they’d also never exposed her to it directly.

Many would probably find it hard to believe that the righteous and independent Hermione has a mother who most of the time enjoyed being a slave to her husband. But that was the key, it had always been the key. Her mother enjoyed it. Her mother chose it.

Several of Hermione’s opinions and tendencies had been shaped by this experience. She felt a strong appeal for authority, as it reminded her of the family she’d observed as a child. She felt driven to accomplish as much as possible, to learn as much as possible, because her parents had always taught her that choice was at the core of everything, and the more choices she had the more freedom she enjoyed. She despised non-consensual bondage of any kind, because to her it was a perversion of what made submission so beautiful: that the submissive was choosing to submit.

Without that choice… what did it matter?

The more informed the choice, the more beautiful the submission was in her opinion. It’s one of the things that made her so proud of her parents. They were two of the most independent and intelligent people she knew, and the fact that they made the choices they did only emphasized that instead of taking away from it.

And that was the choice she wanted to make now. She needed that freedom. The freedom of giving up control and submitting. Of making one choice on her own that removed the burden of making many other choices at all.

Her parents had always answered her questions about the subject, and in many cases provided her with reading material to explore her question in more depth. But they had always refused to let her observe them, saying that they were not going to allow her own emotional and mental development to be skewed in such a way. She had insisted once, several years ago, making a reasoned and impassioned argument, but they’d told her that she wouldn’t be allowed that choice until she was 15. They hadn’t pushed her towards this lifestyle, they’d just refused to lie to her about.

But she knew she needed this. She needed someone to reign in her increasingly manic moods, and she needed to give up the burden of some of the choices she was being presented with.

Many would probably think that growing up in such a family meant an early and constant exposure to the lewd and the sexual, but she’d actually never seen her parents in anything more revealing that rather modest swim wear.

But she knew what she wanted, and what she needed. And she knew what Harry needed too. He needed this from her, a thing to control and to use, and it was just good fortune that she needed the other side of it just as badly.

She was startled out of her thoughts as someone knocked on her door. It had to be her mother, the knocking was too gentle.

“Come in,” she called out softly.

Elizabeth walked into the room carrying a bag, closing the door softly behind her, and sat down next to Hermione.

“You know what you’re asking for, right?” Elizabeth finally asked gently.

“Yes mum,” Hermione mumbled.

“Very well…” Hermione turned and looked at her mother, whose face had become harder. “These are the rules, miss. First, you will obey any instruction from your father or me without hesitating. Hesitation will be punished.” Hermione felt her face flush and her body tingle in excitement as her mother continued. “Second, you will maintain your modesty around your father at all times. You will only expose yourself to me, not him. Third, you will begin shaving.” Elizabeth reached into the bag and pulled out a razor. “Both your legs and cunt.”

Hermione startled, her face burning. For all that people might expect from having parents with such a lifestyle, she’d never heard such crude language from either of her parents.

“Um… I don’t… have much hair down… there,” Hermione said shakily.

“On your cunt, you mean?” Hermione blushed even more furiously. “Dear, if you choose to be a slave, that’s what it’s called. You don’t get to hide behind euphemisms and elegant language any more.” Elizabeth reached out, grabbing Hermione’s jaw and forcing her to look directly and her mother. “Say it. Properly.”

“I… don’t have much hair… on my… cunt.” Hermione was sure that her face was going to burst into flame.

“Good girl,” Elizabeth said, patting Hermione lightly on the top of her head. “Fourth, you will no longer wear panties or a bra while at home, and you’ll wear what we tell you to at all other times.” Elizabeth stood up taking a deep breath. “Now, for your punishment that you requested.”

She reached into the bag and pulled out a plug with a gem on the end.

“You will wear this at all times unless you are using the restroom or receive special permission from me or your father, you will be receiving 20 lashings this evening from me, and…” Elizabeth smirked. “You will need to convince Harry to take you on your own. We will give you no help with that.”

Hermione made a strangling noise and looked up at her mother with wide eyes.

“But mum, I—”

She was cut off by a swift backhand to the face.

“Don’t talk back, slut.”

Hermione was startled, and anxious, and… excited. So excited. This is what she had been missing, what she had wanted for so long. The lack of it had been a constant source of stress and driven her into the wild panics and moods she was now well known for. She could feel warmth beginning to pool in her crotch, and she knew that she’d made the right decision.

Elizabeth leaned down, an amused and somewhat predatory grin on her face.

“Take off your clothes, get on your back, and spread your legs.”

Hermione played the command over in her head once before starting to disrobe, hoping that she hadn’t hesitated long enough to warrant an additional punishment of any kind. She glanced back at her mother as she disrobed, who seemed… pleased? At ease, perhaps.

In under a minute Hermione was in the position commanded, her whole body seeming to blush. No matter that this is what she wanted, she could not stifle the embarrassment that exposing herself like this generated. Especially to her own mother.

“Hmmm,” Elizabeth’s voice hummed, causing Hermione to jump. The sound had come from between her legs, she could feel the breath on her moist lips. “I can work with this.”

She heard the noises of some kind of fluid being rubbed, and risked a glance down. Her mother was lubricating the plug. Elizabeth caught her daughter’s eye and smiled again in that way that sent chills down Hermione’s spine.

“Only I may insert it or remove it. If you need it removed, you must come to me and ask.”

And with that, Hermione felt the sudden intrusion and her mother pushed the plug inside her. She screamed and moaned, a combined sound of surprise, and pleasure, and excitement, and pain.

Elizabeth stood and nodded.

“It didn’t matter that we never involved you or influenced you. It didn’t matter that we pushed you to be smart, to work hard.” Elizabeth reached down and pushed a single finger inside her daughter’s cunt, causing Hermione to squeak. “It didn’t matter because you’ve always been a slut at heart, isn’t that right?” Elizabeth pulled out her finger with a wet sound.

“Yes, mu—”

Hermione’s words we cut off as the wet finger was pushed in her mouth. She closed her eyes and relaxed onto the bed. Yes, this had been the perfect decision.

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