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Ceding Control (formerly Goddess of the Moon)	By : Wimp36 Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 272931 -:- 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
- 26
- 27
- 28
Chapter 26 —

Harry saw his life flash before his eyes.

Here he was, with his face covered in Hermione’s juices, standing next to a naked Hermione, after curfew, and face to face with the last person on the planet he would want to catch him in that situation: Minerva McGonnagall.

She scowled at the pair and flicked her wand, re-clothing Hermione.

“Follow.”

She stalked through the halls of Hogwarts, a terrified Harry and Hermione trailing in her wake, until they reached the Transfiguration classroom. She thrust the door open and ushered them inside. The two stood in front of the desk as McGonagall seated herself and placed her hands on the surface of the desk. She glared at them.

“Professor, we,” began Hermione, but a single raised finger silenced her. Finally, after what seemed an eternity in which Harry’s mind played out any number of terrifying scenarios, McGonagall leaned back slightly in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Strip.”

The word, delivered in a voice that they had come to jump to obey, seemed entirely foreign. He looked at Hermione to see the same expression of shock on her face. Looking back at McGonagall, he saw a raised brow.

“Professor?”

“Strip.” McGonagall flicked her wand and a sharp blow cracked across Harry’s backside. From the yelp next to him, the same had happened to Hermione. McGonagall rose.

“You two trot around this castle as if it’s your own personal pleasure garden. Do you think I don’t know what you get up to in the bathrooms? The Room of Requirement? Do you think I can’t see through the pitiful illusions on your clothes? Do you really think that Horace and Aurora don’t gossip with the rest of us? Now. Strip.”

Harry and Hermione dropped their robes. Hermione followed with the rest of her garments, since McGonagall had already seen her naked. Harry was more cautious, but soon stood naked as well. McGonagall stood and walked towards them, circling. She stopped in front of Hermione and looked her up and down, her eyes lingering on her tattoos.

“‘Pureblood Slut,’ Miss Granger?” She said, tutting. “Not what I would have expected. And ‘The Cuck Who Lived.’ Very interesting. And this appears to be the McClaggan coat of arms. And this…” To Harry’s horror (but also, to his great shame, arousal) McGonagall gave his caged cock a poke with her wand. “I would have guessed you’d be a bit better endowed than that, but there we are.”

She circled them again.

“You two certainly need to be punished. Breaking curfew…indecency…vulgarity…I’m quite certain that the list of rules you two haven’t broken is shorter than those that you have.” She glared intently before continuing. “However…” she dragged out the pause, “I see no reason to involve the headmaster, or anyone else since you’re both in my house. Now bend over the desk. Both of you.”

They obeyed immediately. Even though they’d both been whipped and paddled already that evening, they both loved the feeling, and this was certainly less than Harry expected to get from McGonagall. Of all the scenarios that had played out in his mind — having his wand snapped, being sent to St. Mungo’s, being dragged to the headmaster, or to Filch — this one had never occurred to him.

McGonagall flicked her wand, conjuring two wooden paddles. She let them hover there while she prepared a cup of tea. When the tea was ready she gave her wand another flick and the paddles began to swing, raining sporadic blows down on the upturned cheeks.

“Be sure to count,” she said, sharply.

Amid the smack of wood on skin and the gasped numbers, McGonagall sat serenely behind her desk sipping her tea. When she’d finished, she flicked her wand and the paddles vanished. Harry and Hermione stayed exactly where they were as she rose.

“I must say,” she said, pouring another cup of tea and drinking deeply, “I am impressed by how fast you have reached this level of depravity. Aurora tells me that your descent began the night of Horace’s party, and here you are: pierced, tattooed, shaved,” she tugged the wig from Hermione’s head and tapped her wand to their necks, revealing their collars, “and collared. And plugged,” she added, as she inspected their backsides. She conjured a thin bamboo rob, which whistled through the air before smacking across Harry’s ass.

“I daresay neither of your minds has stopped racing since I walked into that classroom, so I’ll put you out of your misery. As I said, I’ve been aware of you proclivities from the offset, and I’ve turned a blind eye. Both of you are under enormous stress from one source or another and, despite that, excel in almost everything that you do. Anything you can do to lighten that stress is, I think, a good thing. But you aren’t the only ones dealing with stress.” She swatted the rob across Hermione’s rump this time. “For instance: I’m running a school, teaching classes, managing several dozen teenagers, and fighting a war. Leaves very little time for stress relief. And here you two are, practically handing yourselves to me. Kneel.”

Hearts thumping in their chests, Harry and Hermione knelt, both adopting an attentive version of a kneeling pose instinctively: knees spread, backs straight, and arms crossed behind their backs. McGonagall stepped in front of them and gave her wand a dramatic wave.

For six years both Harry and Hermione only ever saw McGonagall as a stern taskmistress. Rigidly formal, with never a hair out of place. Her spell revealed something altogether different.

Standing in front of them was an older woman, to be sure, but a woman whose body maintained its beauty, hidden though it usually was by formal robes. McGonnagall had attired herself in red leather knee high boots, long red gloves, and a red leather corset decorated with intricate gold work. Over it all she wore a loose sleeveless robe of gold silk, which swirled tantalizingly around her form. Her hair was still in its accustomed tight bun, but now held in place by two long metal spikes. Shining red knickers completed the ensemble.

“What do you say?” She asked the two kneeling slaves.

Harry looked at Hermione, whose gaze was fixed, unblinking, on their professor.

“Yes, Mistress,” she said. Harry’s cock twitched.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Excellent. Come. Lick my boots.”

Hermione practically flung herself at the older woman’s feet, licking eagerly at the soles of her boots. Harry joined her, kissing and licking the toes of the boots.

“Keep licking, Mr. Potter,” she said after several minutes. “Miss Granger, lean back and spread your legs. Yes, like that. Now: I’d like you to play with that cute little pussy while you tell me what you’ve been up to since Christmas. Focus on your relationship with Potter, if you please. Potter: keep licking. I want to see both boots shine.”

Hermione began to tell the professor how she took Cormac to the Christmas party to make Harry jealous; how that had backfired and lead to her losing her virginity in a filthy bathroom; how he, Neville, and Luna had set the two of them up on a date…all of it. McGonagall pressed for details here and there, especially when it came to times Harry had been absent, or things that would humiliate him particularly. By the time Hermione reached the night they’d spent with the pureblood cabal — when Harry had been tattooed — Harry had reached the top of McGonagall’s boots and could see that the professor was rubbing herself through her knickers.

“Miss Granger: you are a slut,” said the professor. “A depraved and lustful creature.”

“I am! Can I cum, professor?”

“No you may not. But you can come help me cum. Come here.”

McGonagall moved away from the desk and gestured for Hermione to kneel facing Harry.

“You’re quite the story-teller, Miss Granger. Don’t you agree, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Quite. Very talented. I think she deserves a kiss, don’t you?”

Harry never needed any encouragement to kiss Hermione. He often thought that every time they kissed was making up for all those years he hadn’t been doing it and that he would never catch up. They locked their lips together and Hermione edged her tongue into Harry’s mouth, taking charge. Harry brought his hands up to knead her perfect breasts.

“Very nice,” said McGonagall after several moments. She’d been watching their display and rubbing herself some more. She stepped in, using her body to separate the two. Harry found his face pressed into her knicker-covered arse, while Hermione’s face was drawn into the leather-covered mound of their professor’s pussy. “Play with Miss Granger’s pussy while you worship my ass, Potter,” instructed McGonagall. As he kissed and licked leather, Harry extended a hand to Hermione’s dripping quim, toying with her clit and eliciting moans of delight from her.

“Remove my knickers, Miss Granger,” ordered McGonagall, her voice coming a little breathily. Hermione slid the garments down revealing a surprisingly firm ass. Harry stared for a moment, more than a little surprised by how nice of an ass McGonagall had.

“I would normally make little boys beg to worship my ass, Potter,” said the professor. “Why have you stopped?”

“Sorry, Professor,” said Harry, quickly diving back into her cheeks, his tongue quickly finding her hole and getting to work. Hermione was already hard at work opposite him, licking furiously at McGonagall’s surprisingly wet cunt. After several more moments, McGonagall stepped away.

“Kiss him, Miss Granger.”

Harry and Hermione locked their lips together as McGonagall made her way to her desk. Harry could taste the professor’s juices on Hermione’s lips as their tongues dueled. They could hear a drawer opening and closing and looked up to see the professor cinching a harness around her waist. When she turned, they could see that she had fitted the harness with a large red dildo. She also held another dildo, this one double-ended and affixed to a simpler harness.

“Get on the desk Potter,” she ordered. “On your back. Knees up.”

Harry obediently clambered onto the desk and lay with his knees drawn up to his chest, exposing his plugged ass. McGonagall waved her wand, conjuring ropes to bind Harry’s wrists to his ankles, locking him in that horribly exposed position. She then strapped the second harness around his head so that one end of the dildo filled his mouth while the larger end jutted into the air.

“Would you like to be fucked, Potter?” Asked the professor. She slapped her cock against his defenseless balls. Harry tried to vocalize his assent around the cock in his throat and nodded vigorously. “And you, Miss Granger? Do you think I should fuck your boyfriend? Would you like to shove the other end of that lovely dildo into your cute little pussy?”

“Yes, Professor,” murmured Hermione, who had not moved from her kneeling position. “Please fuck Harry’s ass. And please let me ride his face.”

“Very well. Neither of you is permitted to cum, however.”

Hermione climbed onto the dildo and slowly lowered herself, giving Harry a wonderful view of her glistening folds as they expanded to accept the cock. She began to bounce up and down, forcing the opposite end of the dildo into Harry’s throat each time. Meanwhile, he felt the tip of the professor’s dildo probing at his entrance and relaxed his sphincter. The now familiar sensation of a cock entering his ass sent a jolt of pleasure up his spine.

For several long minutes Harry simply relaxed into the feelings of pleasure that coursed through him: the stretching and pounding from his ass, the probing pressure against his prostate, the pounding of the dildo into his throat, the wetness that trickled from Hermione’s quim onto his face, and the intoxicating aroma that came from her.

His state of bliss was interrupted when Hermione — at an order he’d missed — dismounted and removed the harness from his face. She reversed the dildos and began to aggressively fuck his throat with the long end, pushing a good six inches past the previous dildo. He could feel his throat expanding around the invading cock. He could also feel his gag reflex kicking in. Before long, thick streams of saliva coated his face and tears ran down his cheeks. Hermione leaned in to lick his face clean, purring compliments in his ear even as she defiled his throat.

A sudden sharp pain drew his attention back to McGonagall. She had her wand out and had just administered a sharp shock to his balls.

“Your attention should be on me, Potter,” she scolded. “Miss Granger, fuck his throat harder while I punish the boy.”

Hermione redouble her efforts and Harry felt the ring that secured his balls tighten and lengthen, pushing them out further from his body. This not only caused a new level of blissful pain in itself, but made them an easier target for McGonagall’s wand, which darted out unpredictably to send jolts of pleasure and pain through his body. When one of the jolts came not on his abused balls but on the upturned sole of his left foot, he screamed into the dildo blocking his airway and spasmed. He lost what little control he had and came, spurting watery cum out from his cage onto the professor’s corset. She drew back in disgust, and Hermione drew away as well.

Coming down from his post-orgasmic high, Harry knew that he had incurred a severe punishment. He wriggled his way off the desk (his bonds made movement difficult) and landed in a heap on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” he gasped, trying to scoot closer to her so he could kiss a boot. “I didn’t mean to cum! I tried my best to hold it back! Forgive me!”

A sharp pain lanced across his back as the professor brought a lash down without warning.

“You pathetic worm,” came McGonagall’s cold voice. “Not only do you do disservice to your family and your house by presenting as such a contemptible sissy; not only do you disobey my orders not to ejaculate without permission; but you dare defile my garb with your filthy semen?” Each admonition was accompanied by a lash. “Lick your filth off me. Now.”

Harry found himself unbound and immediately jumped into action, licking his cum off McGonagall’s corset.

“Open your mouth.” She ordered when Harry rocked back on his heels. He complied and she spat into his mouth and then conjured a ring gag to hold his mouth wide open. Another casual wave of the wand sent him flying across the room to land in one of the rigid wood chairs. Further flicks bound his arms behind the chair and his ankles to its legs. A final flick replace the buttplug that she’d removed prior to fucking him with a considerably larger model that stretched his ass like a fist. His chastity cage continued to give off occasional shocks, and his cock dribbled precum almost continually.

“Now, little boy: you stay there. I’ve observed that you can’t even begin to please Miss Granger, so you can observe yet again how to do so. Maybe one day you’ll learn. Then again…even engorgement charms have their limits. Miss Granger, you may begin by sucking my cock.”

“Yes, Professor,” said Hermione, sinking elegantly to her knees in front of the older woman and expertly deepthroating the dildo in one swift motion. As she bobbed her head up and down, McGonagall smirked at Harry.

“You see, Potter,” she said, resting a lazy hand on the back of Hermione’s head. “Some things are just true: girls can’t resist a big cock. Even the most powerful, self-confident woman occasionally wants to feel small and vulnerable; to feel both dominated and protected; to feel challenged and stretched. Little boys like you can’t provide that. I think you’ve already learned that lesson, haven’t you? You and Miss Granger may be in love, but she needs someone to dominate her. That will never be you.”

Harry moaned, drool leaking out from his gag streamed down his chest.

“Very good Miss Granger. Now, if you will, bend over the desk facing Mr. Potter.”

Hermione obeyed and McGonagall moved behind her, sliding the dildo into her and starting to thrust. McGonagall grabbed Hermione by the collar and pulled up, arching the girl’s back and limiting her air supply in a way Harry knew she loved. With her other hand, McGonagall alternated between swatting Hermione’s ass, tugging her nipple, and raking long red nails down her back. She seemed to know exactly how to drive the younger woman crazy.

“Professor!” Gasped Hermione. “Fuck me! Fuck my know-it-all cunt! Yes! Yes! YES! Can I cum? Please let this worthless whore cum!”

“Cum for me, Granger. In three…two…one!”

Hermione lurched. Her eyes rolled up into her head and Harry heard the telltale splash of liquid that meant she had squirted. McGonagall pulled back and summoned a paddle, bringing it down hard and fast on Hermione’s ass, prolonging her orgasm considerably. When it had finally run its course, she pulled Hermione to her feet and kissed her forcefully before giving her ass a final swat. She waved her wand and Harry’s bonds vanished.

“Get dressed and to bed. Both of you. I think it goes without saying that these events are never to be mentioned to anyone, yes? You are to behave as normal in my classes.”

“Yes, Professor,” chorused Harry and Hermione, as they pulled on clothes.

When the two students had dashed off, McGonagall sighed and walked back to her desk, unfastening the strapon as she went. Raising it to her lips, she licked up the shaft, moaning in pleasure at the lingering taste of Hermione Granger. She took the cock in her mouth, sucking up and down its length a few times while she fingered her pussy, then she bent over her desk and gave her wand a practiced flick. The dildo rose into the air and plowed into her dripping cunt, quickly fucking her to an orgasm of her own.

Satisfied, the stately witch stood and looked around the classroom, sighing at the mess. Confident spellwork quickly removed stains, aromas, and implements of pleasure and restored order to the papers on the desk. She glanced at the clock on the wall and nodded thoughtfully to herself.

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione had just made it back to Gryffindor tower, having narrowly avoided both Filch and Peeves on their way. Exhausted, they crept up to the girl’s dormitory — they’d discovered that the enchantments on the stairs didn’t react to Harry anymore and, since Parvati and Lavender often slept away from the dorm, it was a relatively private place to spend the night — and crawled together into Hermione’s bed, falling asleep almost at once.

A little later, Luna Lovegood licked her lips clear of the last of her master’s cum as he crossed the room to help himself to a drink. They were in the Room of Requirement, which was currently masquerading as a cozy living room.

“Excellent as always, pet,” said Neville, approvingly. “And very daring earlier tonight. What gave you the idea?”

“Cormac said that they both practically died of shock when she looked up at the gallery this morning, and I heard the Grey Lady saying that she was out of the castle with the headmaster, Snape, Slughorn, Flitwick, and Hagrid tonight. It seemed worth the risk. I’ll tell them tomorrow at breakfast, but it’s too good not to let them have the night to consider what happened.”

She giggled and saw that Neville was getting hard again.

“Excellent work. I’d like to review those memories at some point. Might have you take another dose sometime so I can see what it’s like to fuck her, too…” He reached out to play with one of Luna’s breasts before letting his hand trace down her pale stomach to the small silver cage that enclosed her cock. “I think you earned your way out of the cage for a while, even.”

“Thank you Master,” said Luna as the cage fell away. “May I?” She added, pointing at his cock.

Neville sat on a nearby sofa. “You may indeed.”
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Ceding Control (formerly Goddess of the Moon)