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Literal	By : SpaceSamurai Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 23150 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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CHAPTER THREE
    Draco Malfoy stormed through the halls with all the grace of an elephant in a rage. He’d just heard from Goyle that he’d been suspended from the quidditch team for casting a hex on the Hufflepuff seeker in the last match. He swore his innocence, of course, but his reputation preceded him. He would be forced to sit out the next three matches, effectively ending his season.
    His ego bruised, Malfoy was on the prowl. For what, he couldn’t exactly say. A chance to prove his manliness, he supposed. A first year to torment. A Weasly to duel. A girl to bed.
    As if on cue, a girl rounded the corner ahead of him. At first he couldn’t recognize her, but then Malfoy’s breath caught in his throat. It was-
    “Granger?”
    Hermione’s hair, normally a crazy mess, was straight and full and luxurious. It perfectly framed her face, and, Malfoy had to admit, made her look like….like a knockout.
    “My word, Granger, you’re looking quite different indeed,” he sneered. “Maybe I could get a closer look back in my bed.”
    Hermione rolled her eyes and kept walking. As much as she wanted a cock in her mouth, even she had standards.
    Malfoy scowled and watched her march past. “Oh, I see. Ms. Perfect Know-It-All Hermione Granger is so much better than everyone else. She’s the queen of all she surveys, she can have whatever she wants. Who could ever resist Hermione Granger? Well I’ve got news for you-”
    Hermione wheeled around with furious eyes. “Quiet,” she snapped.
    Instantly, Malfoy went silent. He suddenly realized he’d been mocking the most perfect woman he’d ever seen or ever would see. ‘But isn’t she a mudblood?’ a voice in his head asked. It made his temple throb.
    Hermione took a step forward. “Who do you think you’re talking to, boy?” she said.
    Her face was hard as steel, and Draco looked away as quickly as he could, lest his gaze inflame her fury further. She snorted derisively.
    “Oh, you’ve realized your place, I see. You are unworthy of even looking me in the eye. Tell you what, I’m feeling a bit feisty today. Why don’t you take your little cock out and let’s see if you’re deserving of my time.”
    Draco was frantic, his fingers struggling with the fasteners on his robes, his hands shaking as he reached the button fly of his trousers, his knees wobbling as he reached into his knickers and finally fished out his flaccid member.
    As soon as Hermione saw the pink fleshy knob she burst in a throaty and theatrical laugh.
    “Excuse me?” she sneered. “I thought I told you to show me a cock, not a clitoris, you sissy little pussy-bitch! Or does that little shrimp only get bigger when you’ve got a cock up your twat?”
    Malfoy’s eyes rolled back in his head. The world spun.
    ...When she finally cleared her head, Draconia Malfoy was ashamed as Hermione Granger continued to taunt her abnormal clitoris. She’d always been self-conscious about it, as far back as she could remember. Come to that, how far back could she remember, she wondered?
    She was snapped out of her memories by further shaming from Hermione.
    “Oh my, is the little girl going to cry?” she taunted. “What, just because I said your gross fat clit is like a little dick? For fuck’s sake, Malfoy, it’s not THAT big.”
    She was right, Draconia knew. It was maybe a bit large, but it was just a clitoris, nestled in the folds of her slit, just like any other girl’s. Well, maybe a little puffier than most girls, but still not disgustingly so. In fact, Hermione’s words were starting to make her feel a little bit better about it.
    “If that almost made you cry, you’re really gonna weep when I start in on your itty bitty titties.”
    Draconia flushed, and tears welled in her eyes. She still couldn’t bear to look into Hermione’s face, but she sobbed as she looked at the other girl’s shoes, her words cutting her like daggers. Why did she have to be so mean? Just because the Malfoy women weren’t blessed upstairs like Hermione was, it didn’t make Draconia any less of a woman. Still, it hurt to be reminded.
    “Stop it,” Draconia whimpered.
    Hermione rolled her eyes again, this time appalled by the display in front of her.
    “Oh, by Merlin, will you stop bawling, you little priss?” Hermione snapped. “I was only paying you back for talking shit. Besides, I’ve never even seen your tits, under your loose clothes. For all I know, they’re bigger than mine.”
    Hermione had a thought then. She’d never seen Draconia’s boobs. But wouldn’t they have run into each other in the bathrooms at some point, passed by after showering? But if that wasn’t true, then what-
    “I doubt that,” Draconia replied.
    Hermione shook her head. She suddenly felt pity for the blonde girl cowering before her. Sure, Malfoy had always been a bitch, and a weasel, and Hermione knew she was better than her (of course, she also knew she was better than everyone else, so that didn’t say much), but still, surely the little slut could be worthwhile in some way.
    “Look, Draconia, I was a bit too harsh. I shouldn’t have made fun of your boobs. After all, you were saying the truth. I am smarter, better, and more perfect than everyone else, and I can have anyone I want. It’s not your fault that you’re so much less than I am.”
    Malfoy couldn’t help but feel patronized by Hermione’s weak apology. “Gee, thanks,” she muttered. “Next you’re gonna say you want to keep me as some sort of pet.”
    Hermione was about to spit an acidic response that would curl the hairs on the little blonde girl’s head. But then she thought about it. And she realized it wasn’t such a bad idea.
    “You say that like you want to be my pet,” she mused.
    It had been a half-joke, an opening salvo to see if Draconia had been as sarcastic as Hermione believed she was. But to her surprise, Draconia didn’t scoff, or retort. She started to breathe a bit more quickly.
    “Draconia,” Hermione tried, “do you want to be my pet?”
    Malfoy bit her lip, the words caught, tangled in her throat. Mustering her courage, she nodded.
    Hermione smiled. “I see. Well, then. I suppose you should get on your knees.”
    Malfoy felt a flutter of excitement in her heart as she sank to her knees on the cold stone floor. Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully and pulled out her wand. With a flick of her wrist, she unbuttoned Draconia’s robe, and with a swish, she tossed it aside. Her eyes went wide. Without the loose robe to cover her body, Malfoy’s uniform clung tightly to what Hermione could now see were well-defined curves.
    ‘Damn,’ Hermione thought ruefully, ‘her tits really are bigger than mine.’
    She didn’t ask permission, or even command. Hermione simply began to undress her pet, little by little, shredding Malfoy’s sweater, and the collared shirt beneath it, freeing her bouncing breasts and their swollen pink nipples to the air. She threw away her skirt, and then, Draconia wincing from the sharp pain that accompanied the motion, she tore away her panties, the lacy fabric pulling against her fat clit before it finally gave way.
    Hermione left her pet in only a pair of grey knee-high socks, kneeling on the floor, averting her gaze.
    “Alright, Draconia,” she said. “From now on, this is all you wear in my presence. When I go anywhere with you, this is how I want people to see you.”
    “Okay,” Draconia said.
    “No no no,” Hermione corrected. “You say ‘Yes Mistress’ when I tell you to do something.”
    “Yes Mistress.” Though she’d been brought low, Malfoy was still somehow proud of her newfound status as Hermione’s inferior. There was something thrilling about being on the floor before her like this.
    “Right then. What to do with you? I’ve never had a human pet before. I’ve had a cat, but that seems a bit different.”
    “I could make you feel good,” Draconia offered weakly.
    Hermione thought for a moment. “Hmm. Well, first off, that’s the last time you’re allowed to speak to me without my permission, unless you’re warning me about danger or something important like that.”
    “Yes Mistress.”
    “Second, I suppose that’s fine. I’m not really a lesbian, but then again, you’re not really a person. You’re just a little pet for me to use as I desire. Isn’t that right, slut?”
    “Yes Mistress,” Draconia said, and despite herself, she smiled.
    Hermione disrobed, her luxurious hair falling in front of her exquisite breasts, smaller than Draconia’s but, the slave had to admit, much better somehow, more perfect. Soon, her womanhood came into view, with a neatly trimmed mound of pubic hair tufted above it.
“Right, pet,” Hermione said, spreading her legs where she stood. “Lick.”
“Yes Mistress,” Draconia said, and crawled forward, her enthusiasm surprising even herself. As she reached her mistress’s sex, the smell was intoxicating. She leaned in, stuck out her tongue, and, for the first time in her life, tasted pure joy.
Malfoy lapped and basked in the wonder of Hermione’s slit. But for her part, Hermione grew increasingly frustrated. Try as she might to please her, Draconia was rubbish at pussy-licking. Sure, it felt alright, but every time Hermione felt herself building pleasure, the little slut would move just wrong, and leave her unfulfilled.
“Stop,” Hermione said finally.
Draconia looked up at her in surprise and fear. She had been eager, even desperate, to please her mistress, and the thought that she might have failed filled her with an unexpected dread. Hermione looked down into those eyes and felt a pang of pity.
“Was it not good, Mistress?” Draconia asked.
Hermione heard the pain in the girl’s voice. Hermione, though superior in every way to everyone, still had a heart, and, after all, Draconia was her pet, a distinction she didn’t want to take for granted.
“No, Draconia,” she sighed. “It was good. You’re a very good little pussy-licker. I was just getting close to orgasm, and didn’t want to finish standing up.”
Draconia beamed in glorious pride. Hermione lay down on the floor. ‘Might as well get comfortable,’ she thought.
“Alright, pet, you may continue.”
Draconia nodded. “Yes Mistress!”
She put her tongue to Hermione’s lips, and doubled her efforts from before. And as she was licking, Hermione had a sudden realization: ‘This feels amazing!’
Maybe she’d just been in the wrong position before, she reasoned, because now every little move of Draconia’s tongue was sending waves of pleasure up her spine. ‘Maybe all she needed was a little encouragement,’ she thought, and smiled at herself for being such a good leader and mistress.
Draconia encircled Hermione’s clit with her lips and suckled, and suddenly Hermione realized something else too: She was extremely close to cumming.
“Oh fuck!” she shrieked, and Draconia dove in harder, licking up her mistress’s juices, and Hermione’s body tensed, so close, and Malfoy shoved her tongue into her hole, and Hermione went over the edge.
“AaaaahhhhhhH!!!!” she screamed. Her legs clamped hard around Draconia’s head, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. When she came to, and released her hold on Malfoy, who gasped in fresh air like she’d been drowning, Hermione was glowing. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever had such an intense orgasm in her life.
“My word, pet,” she sighed, “you are worth something after all.”
Draconia didn’t fight it now. She was so proud to be Hermione’s pet that every backhanded compliment overwhelmed her with joy.
“Thank you, Mistress,” she said.
Hermione stretched and closed her eyes, too weak still to stand. She decided to reward her pet while she rested. “Draconia,” she said, “tell me how perfect I am while you finger yourself to orgasm.”
Draconia leaned back against a wall and dove her fingers into her slit, her pussy already so wet from the joy of eating out her mistress. She quickly found her long, jutting clit and began rubbing it, tugging at it even, using her fingers to jerk it like a very small cock.
“Ooh, Mistress, you’re so perfect,” she moaned, taking in the sight of Hermione’s pert breasts rising and falling with her breath. “I’m so lucky to be your pet. Your breasts are works of art, your pussy tastes like wine. I always want to belong to you. Everyone wishes they could be yours. When I was eating you, it was like I was worshipping you. You’re a goddess, and all should kneel before you.”
Hermione sat up and opened her eyes. She looked at Draconia, and their eyes met, and Hermione smirked, and that was all it took, the girl was cumming, cumming harder than she ever had, her muscles tightening and loosening, joints popping, her voice straining with the screams of pure bliss.
Finally, Hermione gathered herself together and stood. She didn’t bother getting dressed. Her body was so perfect, surely no one would object, she reasoned. She looked at her quivering pet and knew she’d chosen well. But of course, Draconia was right. Hermione was a goddess. She’d always known it. Now was the time when the world would worship at her feet.
When she came down from her high, Draconia began to stand, but Hermione shoved her back down.
“No. As my pet, you don’t get to walk like a person. Here.”
She picked up her wand and gave it a flick. In her hand appeared a long black leash which, Draconia realized, led to a small black collar around the kneeling girl’s neck.
“Now, pet, when I walk with you, you’ll crawl next to me. Give the people behind you a good view of your cunt and the people in front of you a good look at your swinging teats.”
“Yes Mistress,” Draconia said
“Now,” Hermione said, “we will gather more followers, and everyone will woship me as you do.”
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