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Ceding Control (formerly Goddess of the Moon)	By : Wimp36 Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 272932 -:- Recommendations : 15 -:- Currently Reading : 23
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of its characters, premises, or related information from either the books or movies. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter 14 - Christmas Break (Part 2, Hermione)

The instant the Knight Bus had dropped her in front of her parents’ small house in Southend, Hermione was pulled into a tight hug by her mother, Jean and her father, Albert.

“Welcome home, dear!” Cried her mother. Only when they were done hugging her did Jean hold Hermione at arm’s length, having noticed her attire. The usually conservative Hermione wore a dark purple overcoat, but under it she wore a tight blouse without a bra, a short grey skirt, thigh high stockings, and high-heeled boots. Jean raised an eyebrow and Hermione giggled.

“I know!” She gave a twirl, causing her father to blush as more of her thighs became visible. “I’ve changed up my style a bit since I got a boyfriend! I like feeling pretty for him!”

“That’s wonderful, dear!” Said her mother, as her father collected her trunk to carry it inside. “Who’s the lucky boy?”

“Harry!” Said Hermione, cheerfully.

“How long has this been going on? In your last letter you said that he wasn’t paying any attention to you!”

“Well, there was a party last week. We both went with other people, and I think that made us realize that we both felt jealous of the other one, so…” she shrugged. Her mother hugged her around the shoulders.

“I’m so happy for you, dear!” Then she added in a softer voice, “I just hope you’re not changing too much for him! The clothes…”

“Relax, mum,” said Hermione, “I know what I’m doing! I won’t do anything that makes me uncomfortable.”

“Well, that’s good,” said her mother, giving her shoulders another squeeze. “We’ll have some real girl talk later. Your father has his darts night tonight at the pub.”

Over dinner they discussed Hermione’s semester, her parents’ work, and Harry. Once the dishes were cleaned, Albert left for the pub and Jean opened a bottle of wine, pouring glasses for herself and her daughter. They sat together on a couch in the living room.

“So tell me everything,” said Jean once they’d each had a sip.

Hermione started with the blander details…her longstanding crush on Harry, her failed attempts at flirting, and his inability to see her as anything other than a surrogate sister figure. Her mother asked pointed questions about Harry’s character along the way. By the time Hermione actually got around to talking about Slughorn’s party, they were both quite drunk. As she described dancing with Cormac to make Harry jealous, she could see her mother’s face start to flush, and decided to be a bit more graphic in her descriptions. She had known that her mother was a very sexual woman, especially in her youth. Hermione had seen her mother’s lingerie and sex toy collections, and had even silently observed her pleasuring herself in the bath on several occasions.

“…and I could feel his cock pressing into my arse,” she said, “and I could tell it was huge, like…” she held her hands apart to show Cormac’s size. Jean gave a small moan and rubbed her thighs together.

“Any way,” continued Hermione, “Cormac and I had sex that night…and it was incredible! He filled me up so good! I never knew that I could feel like that! And before you ask, yes, I used protection.” She could tell that her mother wanted more details. “We went again a few times the next day, but I could tell he wasn’t the boyfriend type, though. Harry and I had a talk after that and decided to give being boyfriend and girlfriend a try, and it’s worked out great.”

“So Harry’s good in bed, too?” Asked her mother, slurring her words a bit.

“Well, he eats pussy great, but his cock is tiny and he doesn’t last long.”

Jean made a choking sound: her wine had gone down the wrong pipe in her surprise.

“What!”

“Yeah, I guess Luna figured that out after the party, so she locked his cock in a cage and she and Ginny gave him a crash course in being a sissy cuck.” From the look on Jean’s face, she had at least an idea of what those words meant. From the way she rubbed her thighs together, she liked the idea. “So Cormac still gets to fuck me whenever he wants…a few others, too…and Harry gets to kiss me and clean me up after! It’s perfect!”

“He goes down on you after you have sex with other guys?”

“Oh, yeah! And he loves it!”

“And he never gets to cum?”

“Ginny, Luna, and I milk him occasionally. Ginny and Luna fuck him, too. Ginny’s got this great strap-on that you can feel. I think I’m going to buy one, so I can fuck him, too.”

“Oh, god!” Gasped Jean, abandoning all pretense and hiking up her skirt to rub herself over her panties. “Tell me more, babe! I want to hear it all!”

For the next hour, Hermione gave her mom all of the sordid details of her last week, from glory hole service, to Slughorn, to Harry’s feminization, and their end-of-term gang bang. By the end of it all both of them were completely naked and masturbating furiously, using a number of dildos to partially act out Hermione’s activities. She and her mother had always been close, but this was taking things to a dramatic new level.

As they redressed and cleaned the dildos, Jean restarted the conversation.

“I might have to try cuckolding your father,” she mused. “He’s never been much of a ‘laster,’ and he usually won’t eat my pussy. He’s bigger than Harry, based on your description, but not by much. I wonder how to find a bull…”

“Cormac said he might drop by over break,” replied Hermione, feeling very little shame. “I’m sure he’d be happy to help out if you have dad a little broken in by then.”

Hermione had expected her mother to find her activities arousing, and had been ready for her to express in domination and cuckolding, but she had expected for that interest to grow gradually over the course of the holidays, not for it to explode so quickly.

By the time Albert returned, the dildos were put away and all evidence of mother-daughter bonding had been erased. Hermione and her mother had polished off a second bottle of wine and were both rather drunk. After saying goodnight to her father, Hermione headed for bed, slipping naked under her covers with one of her mother’s dildos.

Her parents headed to be shortly after her, and she could clearly hear what they were up to. After a few short minutes of soft kissing sounds their bed began to creak.

“Fuck me, Al!” Grunted Jean. “Fuck me!”

Hermione heard her father groan pitifully, and, after less than a minute, the creaking stopped. Albert’s snores could be heard soon after, and then Hermione heard her mother sneaking down the hall to the guest bath, where she turned on the shower.

Hermione had observed this procession of events before. She had always assumed that her mother just liked to shower after sex, and used the guest shower to allow her father to sleep. Now, however, she knew better. She thought for a few minutes about going to help her mother find some satisfaction, but decided against it. She had no doubts that Cormac would put the two of them together when he visited — he’d hinted at it while he fucked her throat on the train home — but she wasn’t quite ready to cross that particular bridge yet.

The next day, once Hermione’s father had left for work, she and her mother, who had taken the day off, drove into London together. After a light breakfast, they headed into SoHo, reasoning correctly that the notoriously seedy neighborhood would be home to a number of sex shops. Frequently giggling at the absurdity of it all, the two women purchased a chastity cage for Albert, a harness for the dildos Jean already owned, a butt plug for Jean — who insisted on inserting it before leaving the store — and a number of sexy outfits.

After lunch, Hermione lead her mother to Diagon Alley. Their first stop was at a magical accessories store, where they purchased wigs that triggered full body disguises. Hermione’s gave her the appearance of a busty redhead, while Jean’s gave her that of statuesque blonde. She thought that they looked a little like Susan Bones and Fleur in their disguises.

Now, able to avoid recognition by any of Hermione’s classmates, they ventured into the magical sex shop hidden at the back of a tea house from which Ginny had ordered her magical strap-on. Hermione chose a model similar to Ginny’s, but with a larger sized cock that reminded her of Cormac. Jean selected a model with interchangeable cocks, one small (for the first few times) and one considerably larger (for later). Hermione also purchased charmed panties that would keep any sperm in her pussy or ass fresh and a magical powder that heightened arousal and reduced inhibitions.

Visiting the Three Broomsticks on their way out of Diagon Alley, Hermione and her mother flirted outrageously with the bar patrons. Jean even rubbed one man’s cock to completion through his trousers under the bar while Hermione kissed him.

After dinner that evening, Hermione announced her intention to go for a run at the local gym. She told her parents that she might go out to dance with some of her local friends afterward, and would likely be home late. Hermione quickly packed a bag with one of her new outfits and pulled on her gym clothes: a pair of tight, bright blue short-shorts and a black sports bra. She borrowed her mom’s car and drove to the gym. Her parents had already been getting frisky when she left, so they didn’t object to her taking the car, despite not having a license yet. She normally would have walked, but it was too cold.

At the gym, she ran on a treadmill for the better part of an hour, eying the men and boys using the other machines. Before they had parted at King’s Cross, Cormac had instructed Hermione to suck at least one cock a day to keep in practice.

She was unimpressed with the available choices and had nearly decided to find someone at a club when she saw a well-dressed man in his late thirties exiting the men’s locker room. He had well-coifed brown hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and the well-muscled build of a former soldier or athlete. He wore a button-down dress shirt which strained over large arm muscles and a toned chest. His pants were just tight enough that she could see the outline of an impressive cock.

She licked her lips and stopped her machine. She hopped down and began walking towards the women’s locker room, swaying her hips. As she entered the lockers, she made eye-contact with the man and winked.

She stripped out of her sweaty clothes and stepped under the spray of one of the showers. She had brought a bottle of magical shampoo with her, so in no time her hair was full and lustrous and her skin was soft and pristine, though her muscles were still hard from her run.

She dressed quickly in her new outfit; a hot pink micro dress which left her back and sides bare, just barely covered her breasts with a v-neck that came down nearly to her belly button, and a skirt that fell just to the bottom of her ass. She also wore a black G-string, bright yellow fish nets, and knee-high white leather boots. Looking at herself in the mirror, she applied heavy purple eye shadow, bright pink lipstick, and some body glitter. Satisfied, she left her gym clothes in one of the lockers and left.

As she had hoped, her target was still there, leaning against a column outside of the gym smoking a cigarette. She approached him confidently.

“Any chance I can bum one of those?” She asked.

“Sure thing,” said the man, offering her a cigarette and holding out his lighter for her. “Where are you off to, all dressed up like that?”

“I was thinking of going dancing,” she replied, taking a in long drag of smoke. “You know anywhere good?”

***

Hermione returned home at close to three in the morning. Her makeup had smeared and run down her face, her hair was a tangled mess of cum and spit, her stockings were ripped, and her panties held several loads of cum trapped in her pussy. She had gotten far too drunk to drive, but had fortunately left her mom’s car at the gym, which was in close walking distance assuming she dressed a little more warmly.

The man she had met at the gym took her to a dance club, where he bought her shot after shot of tequila. She gave him a hand job under the table and then let him finger her on the dance floor. She had then dragged him into a service corridor to suck him off.

Later, he took her to an all-night Korean restaurant where, after several bottles of Soju and a few rounds of barbecue, they were joined by a group of his friends who he had called from the gym. Like him, they were all middle-aged, attractive, and very eager to see how far they could take things with the young slut who had fallen into their clutches.

They took her to a strip club, where she had danced for them, and the crowd, alongside the professionals and snorted coke off a stripper’s ass. They rented one of the Champagne Rooms and spent hours fucking her and two of the strippers in every way imaginable.

The night ended with her giving her gym friend road head while he drove her back to her neighborhood. As far gone as she was, she was still present enough to not give him her actual address, instead having him drop her at an intersection a few blocks from her house.

Once she had stumbled up the stairs to her bedroom, she stripped out of her clothes and tiptoed to the bathroom where she ran herself a bath, knowing that her parents were unlikely to wake up. She soaked until she felt clean again, before returning to her bedroom where she drank a sobriety potion. With her head cleared, and warmer clothes on, she jogged to the gym and retrieved her mom’s car.
Back home, she collapsed into her bed. She woke to a deep, pleasurable ache and soft voices from her parents’ room down the hall.

“Do you really want me to wear this thing to work, dear? I thought it was just a bedroom thing.”

“No. I told you, Al: you wear it at all times unless I decide you’ve earned an orgasm. I know you masturbate in the supply closet at work, and I won’t stand for it. And,” there was the sound of a slap, “I told you to call me ‘Mistress’ unless we’re in public.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

“Now, go get breakfast ready. I need to finish getting ready.”

Hermione smirked into her pillow as she rolled back over to sleep for a few more hours.

Waking up again several hours later, Hermione pulled on a cropped tank top and panties before heading downstairs to make herself breakfast. As she readied her tea and toast, she saw a note from her mother stuck to the refrigerator telling her to invite Cormac over for dinner that evening. Her mother had also left a roll of cash on the counter for that purpose. She excitedly wrote a quick letter, and when the owl with her copy of the Daily Prophet arrived, she sent it away with her letter to Cormac, making sure that she included a hint or two about what might be in store for him that evening.

Hermione spent her day cleaning the house to make it presentable for Cormac. His reply came a few hours later:

Dinner better be good, slut. And make sure you and your whore mother dress up for me. You know what I like.

Your dad better be on his best behavior.

And no cumming until I get there. I’ll know if you cheat.

~ Master

In the late morning she headed into town to buy ingredients for their dinner that evening, deciding to be extravagant: oysters, green salad, beef Wellington with mashed potatoes, cheese, and an apple tart. Hermione loved to cook, and knew she could knock out a great dinner without too much trouble, especially since the only thing that really needed to cook was the beef. She also stopped off for wine, thankful that their summer trips to France had included plenty of wine tastings. Loaded up with her groceries, several bottles of Krug, a few bottles of Pomerol, and a small bottle each of Sauternes and Calvados, she hailed a cab and headed home, her mind overwhelmed with lust and excitement. If it wasn’t for Cormac’s orders, she would have fucked the cabbie.

She quickly stowed the oysters and champagne in the fridge, rolled out some pastry, seared the beef and stuffed the Wellington, and formed up the tart. Once she had everything prepped that she could, and had tidied up the kitchen, she looked at the clock. It was only four in the afternoon. She decided to go for a run to try and burn off some of her horniness. After an hour she knew it hadn’t worked, but at least it had killed some time.

By the time she was back, her parents had returned home. She kissed her father on the cheek, and whispered Cormac’s instructions about attire and behavior to her mother before running up the stairs to take a shower. She rubbed lotion into her skin, cleaned and lubed her ass with her wand, inserted her butt plug with a slight wince, and checked that her pussy was perfectly smooth.

She decided to forgo underwear, and pulled on a pair of lacy black stockings, a matching garter belt, and a slinky red dress with a plunging cowl neck that hugged her hips while leaving much of her back exposed. She finished the outfit with high strapped red stiletto heels before getting started on her makeup and hair. When she was finished her lips were a lurid red, her cheeks slightly tinted with blush, and her eyes were traced in black, accentuating her long, elegant lashes. She magically straightened her hair and then braided two strands to hold the bulk of her hair behind her head. Satisfied with the overall impression, she headed downstairs to finish dinner.
“What on earth are you wearing, young lady!” Demanded her father when she stepped into the kitchen. He was still dressed from work — cardigan, shirt and tie, tan trousers — and was sitting with a cup of tea and the paper at the kitchen table.

“What?” She asked, coquetishly, “Don’t you like it?”

She twirled around, her skirt riding up her thighs to the point of indecency. As she did, her mother entered the room, dressed in a short black and white silk cocktail dress and high black heels. While her husband was distracted, she sprinkled a pinch of something into his tea.

“I…” he sputtered, “Jean…your daughter…I…”

“Calm down, dear,” said Jean, kissing him on the cheek. “Just drink your tea. Relax.”

He gulped his tea and, almost at one, a serene expression crossed his face. Then he winced, as his cock, reacting to his daughter’s appearance and the aphrodisiac in his tea, swelled in its cage.

“Well, daddy?” Asked Hermione, smirking. “What do you think?”

He could only groan.

“Now, dear,” said Jean, “our guest will be arriving soon. He is a very important wizard, so I need you to be respectful and acommidating. Hermione says that he should be addressed as Lord McClaggan. When he arrives, you’ll greet him and bring him to the sitting room for cocktails, and then you’ll serve us. You’ll serve us at dinner as well.”

“Yes dear,” he said, turning his eyes down.

“Oh!” Said Hermione. “Go get the camera, too! We should have pictures of tonight!”

Albert nodded his head and scurried out to find their Polaroid camera.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Jean, after briefly complimenting each other on their outfits, put the finishing touches on dinner, assembled a tray of canapés, and brought it into the sitting room. Albert joined them after a few minutes, sitting next to his wife on the couch and doing his best to not look at Hermione, who had pulled her legs up onto the seat next to her, causing her dress to ride up higher still. She had shifted just enough that Albert could tell that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

A few moments later there was a knock at the door. On Jean’s nod, Albert rose to answer it. The two women could hear him in the entry way.

“Welcome,” he said, “you must be…” he paused, “Lord McClaggen?”

“Yup,” came Cormac’s voice, “and you must be another beta cuck muggle. Nice to meet you. Here. Go pour me a drink. Bitches in here?”

Seemingly not needing an answer, Cormac’s footsteps approached the sitting room. Hermione stood to greet him. He pulled her into a quick kiss, fondling her breasts as he did so, before slapping her firmly on the ass.

“Hello, Master!” She said, blushing from his treatment of her. “You already met my dad. This is my mom, Jean.”

Jean stood and Cormac’s eyes roamed up and down her body, pausing noticeably at her breasts, which were noticeably larger than Hermione’s and only slightly less firm.

“Not bad. Not bad.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Jean, turning her eyes downward and blushing.

Having hung up the younger man’s coat, Albert followed Cormac into the room carrying a bottle of dark amber whisky. He hurried to the sideboard where glasses were laid out. He uncorked the bottle and poured a healthy slug into a glass.

“Would you like ice, sir?” He asked.

“Neat. Can’t put ice in good whisky…this is elf-made. Three hundred years old, you know. Help yourself to some, if you think you can handle it. Get drinks for the bitches, too.”

Albert handed the glass to Cormac and fixed Gin and Tonics for Hermione and Jean, before pouring himself a whisky.

Cormac lowered himself onto the couch next to Hermione and beckoned to Jean, who sat on his other side. As they sipped their drinks and snacked on the canapés, Cormac regaled them with his family history. Hermione, who would normally have found his braggadocio to be repellant was distracted by his hand on her thigh. It inched ever higher, coming tantalizingly close to her sopping folds.

Jean and Albert were likewise inattentive to Cormac’s monologue. Albert’s eyes were glued, unabashedly now, to his daughter’s lewdly exposed pussy, her dress having ridden up even higher under Cormac’s ministrations. He could even see the glint of what looked like jewelry nestled between her cheeks. For her part, Jean’s eyes were focused on the growing bulge in Cormac’s pants. Noticing where their respective attentions were focused, Cormac broke off describing his family’s stake in Muggle financial markets.

“You can touch it, you know,” he said, glancing at Jean. “And you,” he added to Albert, “How about a picture of me with these two fine ladies?” He gestured at the camera that sat next to Albert.

Albert picked up the camera and directed it at the threesome on the other couch. As he clicked the shutter, he could see Jean take hold of Cormac’s cock through his pants, her small hand not quite able to fully grasp its girth. He felt his own cock twitch in the confines of its cage again.

From the kitchen a timer sounded.

“The roast will be done soon, daddy,” said Hermione, slightly breathlessly. “Why don’t you go set out the first course? We’ll all move to the dining room.”

“Bring the camera, dear,” added Jean.

Albert obeyed, setting the oysters on their platter of crushed ice in the center of the table and filling four glasses with champagne.

“So, mudblood” said Cormac, “did you plan the menu?”

“I did, sir,” said Hermione.

“Nice choice on the champagne, but I’m not sure the oysters are necessary. I think we’ll do fine without them.”

Both Hermione and Jean giggled at this.

“Excuse me sir,” asked Albert, “but what does, ‘mudblood’ mean?”

“Oh, yeah. You wouldn’t know. It’s what we call muggleborns like your slut of a daughter.” Albert began to turn red at this, but the inhibition drug was still firmly in control. “You’ve got purebloods, like me; half-bloods, like Potter; and then you’ve got mudbloods. Most mudblood bitches are sluts at heart. They get off on being told what they are. Isn’t that right, bitch?”

“Mmhmm,” said Hermione, distractedly. It was at this point that Albert noticed that both Hermione and Jean had a hand under the table and that their shoulders were moving rhythmically. He made eye-contact with Jean, who mouthed “camera” at him. Obediently, he lowered the camera under the table and clicked the shutter, too afraid to look directly, and yet fully aware of what was happening.

Hearing the second timer from the kitchen, Albert set the camera on the table and cleared away the plates and glasses from the first course, and went to fetch the beef and the red wine, which had been decanting already for several hours. When he returned to the dining room mere moments later, Cormac seemed to be alone at the table, and two fresh polaroid prints sat at Albert’s place. They were still developing, but the first clearly showed his daughter, tongue extended, worshiping a large cock beneath the table. The second, just coming into focus, showed Jean’s mouth stretching to accommodate that same cock. The second photo had been taken at arms length by Hermione so that her own face was visible in the frame. Cormac leered at him.

“Take another one, and then pour the wine. When you come back with the food, they should be done.”

Albert made to take another picture without looking, but Cormac stopped him.

“Get down there. Make sure it’s framed up nice.”

“Yes, sir,” said Albert, kneeling beside his chair and crouching to pass beneath the table cloth. There he was treated to the sight of his wife and daughter kneeling at the feet of this abominable man-child. Hermione’s tongue was caressing his balls while Jean — who had never once given Albert head — worked his shaft. Both women had hiked up their skirts and were fingering themselves franticly. Albert took several photos before retreating to the kitchen. His heart was breaking, and his mind was attempting to rebel, but his cock was on fire. If he had been free of the cage he would have been harder than he had ever been before in his life.

As soon as Albert left the room, Cormac shifted slightly.

“Not bad, mommy dear, but you need practice. Slut, get on there and show her how it’s done.”

Hermione eagerly replaced her mother and began to expertly deep throat her master’s cock, using her tongue and throat muscles to add to his pleasure. A few moments later he grunted.

“Faces together!” He ordered, snatching up the camera. With another grunt, he came, blasting his load onto both upturned faces and into both open and waiting mouths, snapping off a handful of pictures as he did. “Good, now be good girls, and clean each other up. No swallowing yet, though.”

Hermione began at once, eagerly lapping her master’s seed from her mother’s face. Jean began more cautiously, but was already addicted to the humiliation and to the taste of Cormac’s cum. Once their faces were free of cum — they were far from clean, with makeup smeared and mascara running — they looked up at Cormac expectantly. He had been taking pictures the whole time.

“Now share,” he ordered.

Hermione looked at her mother, knowing that this was the first step over a line that she had never expected to cross. It was a line that she hadn’t even contemplated a few weeks ago. Yet it was also a line that she had known would need to be crossed from the moment Cormac had asked her where she lived. She leaned in and captured her mother’s lips with her own, forcing her tongue past her lips and sharing their master’s seed as the camera clicked again above them.

“Very good,” said Cormac, shoving his cock back into his pants. “Daddy should be back with the main course soon, so go freshen up.”

Hermione and her mother rose, tugging their dresses back down over their privates, and dashed off to their respective bathrooms to retouch their makeup and hair.

While he waited, Cormac helped himself to another glass of whisky and pulled a cigar out from his jacket. As he lit the cigar, Albert entered bearing the Wellington.

“I don’t allow smoking in this house…” he began as he set the platter on the table, but was silenced by a look from Cormac.

“I am gracing this house with my presence, muggle. While I am here, you should consider it to be my house. While I am here, you should consider your wife and daughter to be my property as well.” He blew out a puff of acrid smoke. “Well…the little mudblood is my property even when I’m not here, and I may decide that your wife is worth calling on again, too. Regardless, I will treat this house however I choose to, and you will thank me. Is that understood?”

Albert quailed.

“Yes, sir,” he muttered. “Thank you, sir.”

“Better. Now, it’s not a particularly nice carpet in here, but I’m a man of refinement, and I don’t ash on the floor indoors. Find me an ashtray.”

Albert scurried back to the kitchen and returned with a small crystal dish normally used for serving after-dinner mints. Cormac tapped his ash into it and sank back into his chair, ostentatiously adjusting himself through his pants.

Hermione and her mother returned a few moments later, just as Albert was finishing plating the food and pouring the wine. Both women were flushed, and clearly excited for the rest of the evening.

“You made this, slut?” Asked Cormac, spearing a chunk of meat.

“Yes, master,” said Hermione, allowing a hint of pride to creep into her voice.

“Not bad. Maybe I’ll bring you in as a house slave this summer. We can keep Potter around too, I suppose. I always need someone to clean up around the house.”

Hermione giggled and blushed.

The rest of the meal passed uneventfully. By the time they had all enjoyed their post-dessert coffee and brandy, everyone was quite drunk. Jean and Hermione were unabashedly flirting with Cormac, and all three of them were making snide allusions to Alfred’s meekness. Finally, Cormac doused his cigar in the ashtray and stood, beckoning to the two women. Hermione nestled into the crook of his arm and his hand immediately took hold of her ass.

“Let’s find out if you take dick as well as your daughter,” he said to Jean. He seized the front of her dress and hiked it up, revealing her freshly shaved pussy. He sank a finger in between her folds and she had to take hold of her chair as her knees buckled slightly. He drew the finger away, glistening, and brought it to his nose. He sneered at Albert.

“I think she’s ready, don’t you, slut?” He pressed the finger to Hermione’s lips and she sucked obediently. Albert’s cock spasmed again, and he could feel a drop of precum oozing out onto his thigh. “Get this cleaned up, and then meet us upstairs,” he ordered, before leading the two women out of the room, a hand clasped firmly on each ass. As they retreated, Albert could see clearly that each of them had a jeweled plug between their cheeks.

***

“Slut,” said Cormac, motioning towards the stereo opposite the bed in her parent’s bedroom, “put on some music.”

Hermione obeyed, feeling the tingling of her arousal threatening to overwhelm her mind. The sound of Al Green filled the room. Cormac lounged on the bed.

“Strip for me,” he ordered. “Come take my clothes off, mommy,” he added wickedly as Hermione obeyed.

She swayed her hips in time to the music and slowly reached behind her neck to unclasp her dress before allowing it to pool around her feet. As she did, her mother knelt at Cormac’s feet and unbuckled his belt as he worked on his shirt buttons. Hermione spun confidently and bent at the waist, spreading her cheeks so that her master could see her plug and her glistening pussy lips. As she straightened she drew her hands up her body, cupping her breasts and moaning. Still swaying her hips she sauntered towards Cormac, who was grinning like a wolf. Her mother had removed the rest of his clothes and was stroking him to full arousal.

“Your turn,” he said, nudging Jean with his foot. He climbed onto the bed and spread his legs. “Get your mouth on my ass, whore,” he ordered Hermione. She eagerly bent to the task, lifting his monstrous cock out of the way and burying her face in the musky cleft. When her tongue found his asshole, she began to lick it worshipfully.

Behind her, Jean was attempting a strip tease of her own, though she lacked Hermione’s grace and practice. Cormac gave a few chuckles at her stumbling efforts.

“Enough, you dumb cow. Get over here and suck my cock. Slut,” he added to Hermione, “go get that strap-on you told me about and then take her plug out and get her ass ready for me. We’re going to double team mommy.”

Jean, seemingly taking no offense at being called a cow, crawled up the length of the bed. When she was in position, Cormac seized the back of her head and forced her mouth down onto his cock. She spluttered, gagged, and struggled, but, after a few moments, he succeeded in pressing her lips into his pubic hair. Meanwhile, Hermione had found the large strap-on she had bought to use on Harry and had fitted it to her waist, where it immediately merged with her own anatomy. She gasped slightly as she stroked herself, relishing in the new and previously unknown sensations. She lay prone behind her mother and slowly worked the plug out of her ass before replacing it with her tongue, working to lubricate the tight ring of muscle.

“You ever suck cock before tonight?” Asked Cormac, pulling Jean’s mouth off his cock. She took hold of him and began to slowly jack him off before answering.

“A few times at Uni. Never with Al. He always cums right away if there’s any foreplay.” Cormac laughed.

“We’ll need to work on it. You can practice on dildos and on you husband’s employees when I’m not around. Ever take it up the ass?”

“Once,” she replied, kissing the side of his shaft passionately. “Got drunk at a college party, and ended up back in this American guy’s hotel room. Champagne, pot, a bit of coke…he asked and I figured ‘what the hell, I only live once.’”

“Not since then?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Turn around and suck your daughter’s cock. I’m going to fuck your ass like its never been fucked before.”

Jean obeyed. Hermione pulled her into a kiss.

“You’ll love it, mommy!” She said, before leaving back on her heels and guiding her mother’s mouth to her artificial cock. The feeling of a hot mouth on her magical flesh brought her to the precipice of orgasm, but her iron will beat the sensation back. At eight and a half inches, her fake cock was big by ordinary standards, but was dwarfed by Cormac, and so Jean was able to take the entire length quite easily, despite her inexperience. As Hermione closed her eyes in satisfaction, Cormac lined his cock up with Jean’s asshole and drove in hard. She gasped in pain, but was overwhelmed almost at once by pleasure, and redoubled her efforts on her daughter’s cock, while rocking back slightly to meet Cormac’s thrusts.

“I think she’s going to cum, master,” said Hermione after a few minutes. “I am too, if I may.”

“She’d better ask first.”

“Please,” said Jean, her voice muffled by Hermione’s cock, “can I cum?”

“Sure. You can, too, slut, just share it with her after.”

Jean let out a muffled scream as her orgasm ripped through her. Hermione felt the curious sensation of nonexistent balls tightening before a stream of liquid shot out of her cock into her mother’s throat. She was very nearly overwhelmed by the sensation of pleasure obtained by orgasming as a man, though it didn’t hold a candle to the sensation of pleasing her master.

Cormac slid his cock out of Jean’s asshole and allowed her to rise to her knees to share Hermione’s cum with her. As she did, he strode over to where his clothes were piled and drew his wand, summoning a number of items that he would need.

“Take the cock off for now and tie the cow’s arms to the bed,” he ordered, tossing several coils of rope to Hermione and pointing to show what he meant. She obeyed at once, securing her mother’s arms to the posts at head and foot of the bed, with her body lying across it and her legs dangling off the side. “Now her ankles,” ordered Cormac, and Hermione quickly tied Jean’s ankles to ropes secured to the bed’s legs. “Now go sit on her face, I want her licking both of your holes.” He tugged the plug out of Hermione’s ass and tossed it aside while he selected a large leather flogger from his stack of toys. “Do a good job, mommy,” he ordered, giving the flogger a test swing, “This will keep going until your daughter cums.”

As Hermione oriented herself above her mother’s face, Cormac swung the flogger and landed a blow squarely on Jean’s exposed cunt. She gasped, and Hermione took that opportunity to lower herself onto her mouth. Cormac continued to rain blows down on Jean’s thighs, cunt, belly, and tits, and even aimed a few at Hermione’s breasts, which she thanked him for at once. Just as Hermione finally climaxed, the door opened and Albert entered the room.

“Oh, good. Just in time,” laughed Cormac. “Clothes off, muggle, but put on some of your wife’s panties. I don’t want to see your clit while I fuck your daughter and your wife.” He swung himself up onto the bed and straddled Jean’s chest, positioning himself so that his ass was in her face and his cock rested between her voluminous breasts. “Come hold her tits together and suck my cock, slut,” he ordered Hermione. “You, mommy, get that tongue in my ass. Cuck, take some pictures and then come keep these pussies wet.”

Hermione lay on top of her mother and reached up to push Jean’s tits together to make a tunnel for her master’s cock, and positions her mouth at the end of the tunnel. Cormac began to thrust, most of his cock was engulfed by the warm flesh of Jean’s breasts, but the last six inches found their way into Hermione’s waiting mouth. As Cormac’s cock pushed into her mouth, Hermione felt her father crouch down at the juncture of her and her mother’s cunts. He began to lick Jean’s pussy tentatively.

“Come on, Al,” said Jean, pulling her mouth away from Cormac’s asshole. “For once in your life, eat it like you care that I’m getting off! Your cock isn’t worth shit…at least make your tongue worth something!”

Albert redoubled his efforts, and after several minutes, had Jean nearing another orgasm. Cormac noticed.

“Hey, cuck,” he said, “You’re ignoring your daughter!”

With some reluctance — the drug that reduced his inhibitions had not entirely muted his usual moral compass — Al switched his attentions to Hermione’s dripping cunt, leaving Jean frustrated on the edge of her climax. The sweet, pure taste of his daughter’s pussy was intoxicating, but Cormac had plans of his own.

“Okay, cuck, untie your wife. I’m ready to get into some pussy.”

Albert released the bonds around Jean’s arms and legs. Cormac climbed off Jean and retrieved a long, double-headed dildo from the pile of toys he had summoned. He shoved one end of the dildo into Jean’s throat, making her gag slightly.

“Get on top of mommy, slut. I want to see that dildo vanish. I’m going to compare the goods. Pictures, cuck.”

As Hermione repositioned herself and took the other end of the dildo into her mouth, Cormac thrust his cock into Jean’s pussy. She cried out around the artificial cock in her mouth as pleasure again overwhelmed her brain. After several seconds, Hermione’s practiced throat opened, and her lips met her mother’s around the rubber cock in her mouth. Every few thrusts, Cormac would pull out and switch between Hermione’s and Jean’s pussies, and would occasionally thrust in the space where their bodies met, stimulating both of their clits at once. Albert knelt on the floor a few paces away, staring transfixed and trying desperately to provide stimulation to his own pathetic cock.

“Your wife’s got a pretty nice cunt for a older bitch,” commented Cormac. “Not a huge surprise, given that fucking you probably barely counts as losing her virginity, but this one,” he sank back into Hermione’s pussy again, “is absolutely divine. I bet it’s even tight enough for it to feel tight to you…not when I’ve been fucking it recently of course. Shame you’ll never get to experience it.” He switched back to Jean. “You know, you could make yourself useful. Get under your wife and eat her ass.”

Albert crawled meekly between Cormac’s legs and contorted himself to lick at Jean’s asshole while the younger man’s massive cock pounded into her cunt and his balls swung against Albert’s chin.

Cormac picked up his wand from the bedside table and summoned another large dildo, which he shoved without preamble into Hermione’s upturned asshole before taking up the flogger again and raining blows down on her ass. The increased sensations once again Brough Hermione to orgasm, and she momentarily pulled her mouth off the dildo to let out a shriek of pure ecstasy. Jean was cumming again, too, bucking against Albert’s face.

“Oh, yeah,” grunted Cormac. “That’s how you treat bitches. Gonna cum…” He repositioned his cock between the two pussies, gave one last thrust, released a feral roar, and began to cum. When he staggered backwards, Hermione and her mother rolled apart, the dildo falling wetly on the bed between them. Their pussies, stomachs, and breasts were smeared in sweat and cum. Cormac grabbed the camera and snapped a few more pictures as mother and daughter began to lick his cum off each other.

“All right,” he said, tossing the strap-on to Jean, “you and cucky can go to the slut’s room. He can cum on your cock if you want him to. When you’re done, tie him to your daughter’s bed and come back here.” He lay back on the bed. “Bitch, come get me hard again. I want some of that ass.”

“Yes, sir,” purred Hermione.

Albert’s last sight as Jean lead him out of the room was of his precious daughter crawling up the bed and taking Cormac’s slimy cock worshipfully into her mouth.
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Ceding Control (formerly Goddess of the Moon)