Power and Control

"Nice of you to be so generous, even though you have no choice," Harry smirked as he leaned back and regarded her. She was showing every bit of defiance she could but instead of angering him, it felt amusing.

Hermione had always been stuck up, and that trait wouldn't just go so easily. However, he resolved to break her within an hour. She would be nothing but his submissive bitch when he was done with her today.

His smirk widened when she glared.

Ensuring that her limbs were free of any restrictions, Harry commanded, "Strip for me, Weasley. And be sexy about it. I want to see what that trash bin of a husband of yours gets to see every night when he gets home."

Hermione's glare could've melted the polar caps but her hands went to work straight away. One by one, she started to unbutton her thick white overcoat, revealing a brown top with white polka dots scattered over it. The top was tucked inside a pair of dark brown jeans. Overall, it was a relatively plain attire. He could easily associate Hermione with it, considering she had never been much into styling or splurging on expensive apparel. Even a few times that he had spotted her around the ministry or elsewhere before, she would be found garbed in a seemingly unassuming fashion.

Harry merely leaned back, making himself as comfortable as he could with his hard member exposed. He didn't miss how Hermione's eyes would occasionally glance at it or how she would gulp at its sight and he smirked whenever their eyes met, making her look away abruptly once she realized she'd been caught.

Her clothes were nothing noteworthy but the way she took them off was certainly sexy, as he had asked of her. The magic of the vow forced her to do her best, perhaps even better than anything she'd ever shown her husband.

She took off the overcoat and let it fall to the floor before she grabbed the ribbon tying her top around her waist. It came undone in one swift pull, parting in the middle and exposing her pale, unblemished skin to his naked gaze. One arm came out of the other and she let the top drop to the floor as well, rendering her upper body entirely bare apart from the modest white bra that covered her breasts.

All the while, the brunette swayed from side to side in a way that was oddly reminiscent of what Pansy had done for him in the same spot. It felt poetic to see how he was subjecting Hermione to the same depravity he had subjected Pansy to, particularly considering the enmity between the two witches. The only difference was that he hated Hermione even more than he hated Pansy.

The former Parkinson heiress had always been a bitch to him, and it had been easier to dislike her. They had never had a bond and he had never trusted her. However, Hermione was one of his first and truest friends. She was someone he had trusted implicitly, only for her to throw that trust back in his face. It was a betrayal of the highest order, and it was unforgivable in his eyes.

When he looked at Hermione, he felt exactly how he had felt when he looked at Ginny – filled with loathing and disgust that fueled his desire to see them broken in front of him. He had tamed Pansy to make her a servant who would cater to all his needs dutifully. Hermione or Ginny though deserved none of that. They would be his playthings to play with for as long as he pleased before being discarded once he was fed up with them. That would be their future and that would be his payback.

Ronald though would also be getting his comeuppance soon enough. It was inevitable, but the asshole would suffer first. He would see his entire world torn apart right in front of his eyes while he would be able to do nothing but watch helplessly. Only then would he decide if it was enough.

For now, though, Harry pushed those morose thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on the obvious effort the brunette was putting into her striptease, although it was not much of a tease. She truly needed improvement. Perhaps his dear Pansy would be up for a few lessons.

'Now that's a sight I'd love to see,' he thought mirthfully, imagining Hermione and Pansy – two witches who hated each other's guts, together like that.

He knew it was only the magic of the vow that was making Hermione do this and he had no qualms about it. It was fine as long as it led to her humiliation and degradation. He wondered if she had even done this before. Probably not, considering how she was going about it.

Her body was thin and lithe, nothing like the curvaceous forms of Cissa or Pansy. Her tits were on the smaller side and her belly was flat. However, he would be lying if he said she wasn't attractive. There was a reason after all that a vain asshole like Ronald Weasley had married her.

Hermione was all woman even though she was not very curvaceous. She had a lithe build. Perhaps a few dumps of his magical cum could help her fill out in all the right places, he thought, smirking, as he watched her turn away from him. The brunette bent over, pushing her ass toward him, and grabbed the waistband of her jeans, slowly pulling them down her legs.

Her milky white ass became visible first, hidden behind a pair of white cotton panties and Harry sighed. She could make herself look so much more appealing if only she put in the effort. Alas, she truly was still a stuck-up disappointment and needed a lot of refinement.

"Come here," he commanded as she stepped out of the jeans. Hermione turned around and obeyed his command. She walked over until she was standing right in front of him with barely a stitch of clothing on her lithe frame. Harry deliberately leaned back and looked her up and down, making sure she saw his eyes traveling from her legs, which were admittedly long and toned, to her thighs. He smirked when she squirmed in place, feeling his eyes on her covered womanhood, and Harry, unhurried, took his time to properly take her in.

"Do you shave down there, Hermione?"

"Harry!" She cried out, scandalized. Immediately, she winced as the magic of the vow kicked in at his command. "I'm sorry. Master."

Harry chuckled, waving his hand dismissively.

"You can't be so bashful about such a trivial thing. After all, you had my balls in your mouth not too long ago," he replied, reaching forward with his right hand. Before Hermione could react, he pushed the front of her panties to the side and nodded approvingly. "Nice. I like it hairless."

Hermione could only stand there, shaking in mortification as Harry's hands reached around her. Her breath hitched when he cupped her ass-cheeks with either hand and sank his fingers into her skin, gripping her firmly and pulling her closer. Her legs were on his right and she frowned when he slowly turned her to the right.

Confused, she looked at him and a foreboding feeling washed over her as he smirked.

"Bend over," he instructed. Hermione's eyes widened in understanding and she gritted her teeth. Her fists clenched as she glared at him.

Harry simply smirked at her impotent glare and watched as she bent over his thigh.

"I've hated you for so long, Weasley," he said.

Hermione shivered at the feeling of his calloused palm as it softly stroked her naked rear. Only her panties preserved her modesty from his eyes – eyes belonging to someone other than her husband, eyes that should never see what lay underneath. She hoped with all her might that her debt would be repaid before anything more could happen, yet a part of her knew it was a hope in futility. The vow did not restrict her and she gave in to her inner voice.

"I'm so flattered, Master," she replied with a barely concealed snark in her voice. He might have command over her but her voice was hers, and so were her thoughts.

Harry chuckled at her attempt at rebellious behavior, finding it more amusing than offensive. Yet, he could not let such behavior go unpunished. If the bint thought she could act up just because he was not commanding her then she had another thing coming.

"You've earned yourself a massive fortune, Weasley," he continued. "A massive fortune of punishment. And as your former friend, I would graciously shoulder the responsibility of taking care of it all."

"How generous of you," she gritted out. "How does it feel, my asshole Master, to have your hands on a married woman? To touch a woman you should never touch so casually? I bet you must get a kick out of tarnishing other people's happiness, Master."

Harry let out another amused chuckle.

"I reserve this special treatment for the truly lucky ones," he replied, earning a derisive scoff from the woman. He rubbed his hand across the cheeks of her lovely arse. She truly had a perky rear. It was by no means as wide or as plump as Pansy's or even Cissa's but Hermione had an ass she could be proud of. "I'm sure you're eager for me to give you a treat, hmm?"

"Do your worst, Master," she hissed.

"Don't worry. It'll be better than anything you've ever felt, I'm sure," Harry smirked.

"Oh, I'm sure," she scoffed. "What are you even gonna do? Spank me? That's your little treat? I told you my husband is more of a man than you could ever hope to be. Nothing you can do will ever—MMMHHHH!"

Hermione's eyes widened in shock as a jolt of pure, unbridled pleasure shot through the supple skin of her rear, sending a thrum of immense desire straight through her womanhood, as Harry's hand collided with the cheek of her ass. Against her wishes and beyond all her control, her core dampened. It felt as if Hermione had been betrayed by her own body as arousal she had never felt before coursed through her entire being, overwhelming her. The brunette tried with all her might to keep her raging emotions under firm control lest she lose herself to whatever had suddenly happened to her.

'What did he just do!?' She thought frantically, filled with both shock and a forbidden desire to feel it once again.

"Like it?" He smirked, caressing the cheek he had just smacked. His hand was surrounded by a mysterious blue glow and the large red welt of his palm stood out against its pale surroundings on the cheek of her lovely ass. "I bet you did. That moan was filthy. I knew you were the quiet sort, Weasley. After all, you tried to keep it down every time you and that wastebin of a husband of yours did it in that tent."

Hermione let out another moan as his hand smacked her other cheek. His palm made a satisfying smack as it struck the round flesh of her lovely ass. However, what made Harry feel much more satisfied was the vocal reaction she failed to hold back on. Her snarky attitude had become a thing of the past in such a short span. He watched as she lay over his lap, like a demure submissive, with her pert rear hiked up in the air as his hand smacked one cheek after the other, enjoying how her flesh rippled and turned an angry shade of red.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He chuckled, tugging on the strap of her bra across her back. He released it, making her cry out as the strap hit her back with a loud smack. "You're loving this pain. Oh. You. Slut."

"S-shut up—ahhhhh!" she whimpered as he delivered another resounding smack on her ass. Her ivory skin was already proudly displaying his handprints.

"Now that's the sound I like coming out of your silly mouth," Harry smirked. "You've been a very bad girl, Mrs. Weasley. I never really liked your bossy attitude, you know? Always found it irritating. Guess my younger self was too happy to have friends for the first time that he was happy to ignore everything you did," he chuckled self-depreciatingly before his eyes hardened. "Friends that would eventually turn their backs on him when he needed them the most. I feel like I've harped on that little tidbit a few times already now. It isn't as if you need to be reminded. Nah. I guess I should get started with the punishment I told you I'll be taking responsibility for."

"Then what the hell was all this until now?" She asked petulantly. She could not keep herself from moaning as he smacked her ass once more.

"Oh this?" He asked, chuckling when she moaned after another smack. "This was just a teaser. You liked feeling it, didn't you? You liked feeling the hand of someone other than your husband spanking your ass. Tell me truthfully, Weasley. Who touches you better? Me, or your trash of a husband?"

Nothing felt better than getting a woman to admit that his touch was better than her husband's, and Harry's smirk widened as Hermione whispered a shameful "You."

"Thought so," Harry chuckled. "And who spanks you better? Me, or your wastebin of a husband?"

"You, master…" she whispered demurely.

"Good girl. Alas, your punishment awaits."

Before Hermione could catch her bearings, her world exploded in a mixture of pain and forbidden desire as she felt something flat and hard smack her ass firmly. The audible whack of the paddle Harry had conjured out of nothing as it struck her ass was so satisfying that he delivered a couple more smacks in quick succession, turning the brunette into a hot, shivering mess.

Hermione was whimpering, lying prone on his lap as he swatted her ass. She could manage no word out of her mouth as she kept groaning and gasping with each solid impact. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She hated that she was being degraded like this, hated having to pay for something her pathetic husband had done. But another emotion was slowly overpowering her hatred. Her desire for this to continue… her want for more of it… to be treated even more roughly…

She truly was a pathetic bint, she realized, crying out when he smacked her ass yet again.

"I don't like this too much. Feels like I'm the only one doing anything here," Harry mused aloud before his eyes brightened as if he'd gotten a brilliant idea. "How about you get a bit more involved, huh? Every time I punish you like this, you have to keep a count of it. We can stop when we reach twenty. That's the date of your wedding anniversary, isn't it? Sounds like a fine number indeed. Oh, and if you miss even one, we'll restart, so keep that in mind."

Hermione had admitted that she was a depraved woman for liking this torture so much. Yet, her stubborn self would not concede so easily. She seethed in her mind, cursing herself for agreeing to such humiliation, but she had never expected that Harry had changed so much that he would degrade her like this. She had expected him to insult her or make her do his chores. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined Harry would make her do everything a married woman shouldn't with someone other than her husband. Shame coursed through her at her predicament and she gasped when he smacked her ass yet again. Her eyes widened when she felt none of the pleasure that she had been feeling from his rough treatment mere moments ago. Instead, all she felt was the pain that accompanied his spank.

Without any conscious effort on her part, a breathless "One!" left her lips, and Harry grinned. He wondered if she would say anything, but when all he heard was her ragged breathing, he reared his hand back and smacked her ass with the paddle again.

"Two!" She cried out. Harry gave her no respite this time and delivered four solid smacks in quick succession, alternating between the cheeks of her ass.

"Three! Four! Five! Ahhh! Six!" Hermione whimpered. Her ass felt like it was on fire. There was no pleasure to be obtained from this, unlike what she had been feeling when he was spanking her using his hands. Instead, this was pure pain that added to her humiliation. Never had she felt so helpless and all she could do was curse this asshole in her mind for doing this to her. She knew he must have used some magic to prevent her from deriving any sort of pleasure from this relentless torture. After what had happened already so far, she would put nothing past him.

"Good girl," he said condescendingly. "Five points to Gryffindor for keeping up."

"Go to hell, you asshole," she hissed through clenched teeth. "You're the lowest of scum for doing this to me, and for what? To fulfil your selfish greed for revenge? You're pathetic."

Harry remained calm as he stared at the inflamed flesh of her ass.

"Tell me, Weasley, do you feel any bit of remorse for how you betrayed me? And tell me the truth," he commanded calmly, keeping the paddle at the ready.

"No!" Hermione hissed. "You deserved it for endangering so many lives, not only ours but of everyone else's. For charging headfirst without a plan, just like you used to do when we were in school. And don't let me get started on you said about poor Ginny—AAAHHHH! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN! ELEVEN! AHHHH! TWELVE!"

Smiling toothlessly, Harry smacked her ass with the paddle, showing little mercy. He could see the blood vessels threatening to burst under her skin and instead of pity, he felt even more enraged. He firmly shut his eyes and took deep breaths. He didn't want to injure her.

"I'm so glad you believe that, and with so much passion as well, you know," He replied with a chuckle, "and what's this? Bitch you're getting hot with this!"

Harry ran a finger over her slit, feeling the way her panties were clinging to her pussy. It was enough proof of the fact that this bitch was loving what he was doing to her.

'She seems to have a pain kink,' he thought, amused.

For Hermione, shame was her primary feeling coursing through her. Her body was betraying her, exposing a side of her she had wanted to keep buried forever. No man had ever treated her like this, at least until now. How unfortunate it was that the man who should treat her like this never would, and in his place, it was someone she now knew was one of her biggest enemies who was doing it to her.

She wanted to hold back, to force her body to react a certain way, yet as she counted with cries accentuating each smack that he delivered to her rear, she could not bury the perverse voice inside her that cried along with her. Only this voice was filled with want, perhaps need even, and Hermione could do nothing but lay there on his lap, whimpering as she realized that she was slowly coming to like this pain as well. Pain that was the furthest thing from pleasure.

She knew there was nothing she could do to escape this, and whatever else might come her way. She had made the deal with the devil and she had no choice but to see it out. No one would come to help her, not after she had let the magic of the vow decide her fate. Her only hope was magic itself, but if even this was not enough in the eyes of magic, then she was truly scared of finding out just what else she would have to go through before her debt would be deemed to be paid.

"A lot," Harry replied, amused, and Hermione's eyes widened. Shocked, she stared at the floor as she realized that Harry could read her mind and that he had probably been reading it all this while.

"Indeed," Harry called out, chuckling. "And I even know how much you're loving this, you filthy slut, not that I needed to, considering… you know…"

Hermione almost jumped in shock as he pushed the fabric of her panties that covered her womanhood and slid his fingers over her wet pussy lips. His firm hand over her back was the only thing that prevented her from falling out of his lap. Eyes wide, she could only stare at the floor and wince as he wiped his fingers over the sensitive skin of her ass. She was grateful that healing magic existed, otherwise, she didn't think she would be able to sit properly for at least a week.

"I never knew you were such a slut, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said mockingly. "Throughout our Hogwarts years, you used to mock those who frequented the broom closets. I remember your disgusted face whenever you saw people kissing each other in the common room or anywhere outside. You were always such a stuck-up bint. Look at you now. You're getting all hot and aroused after being spanked so roughly by a man other than your husband. What a filthy slut you are."

"Shut up—AHHH! SIXTEEN! SEVENTEEN! EIGHTEEN!"

Harry pulled the paddle off her right cheek and smirked. He loved to see the effect this treatment was having on her. She looked so uncomfortable on his lap, squirming and whimpering, and her previously-pale ass resembled a tomato.

"How much you must be loving your dear husband right now, I wonder," he mocked further. "Thanks to his sheer brilliance and intellect, his wife is now getting spanked hard like a whore by a man who should never touch her like this."

For further emphasis, Harry ran his finger over her wet slit once again, parting her folds and taking in the glistening pink skin underneath.

"Tell me, Weasley," he emphasized her surname for the umpteenth time as if determined to keep reminding her just who she was and how wrong it was for her to be here in this position with him. "Your husband does have a cock, right? I'm not mocking him here. Genuinely asking, because it looks like you have the cunt of a virgin."

Hermione's heart had been darkening with hatred for Ron the more time she spent being humiliated and degraded in such a degenerate manner. Rage clouded her vision whenever she thought about him now. However, she still didn't like how this asshole was insulting him every time he could.

"I told you… he's more of a man than you could ever hope to be," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Didn't you tell me a few minutes ago that I touch you better than your shitty husband, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked, amused. Hermione grimaced as she remembered her shameful admission.

Suddenly, she was sent tumbling over to the floor and she cried out as she landed harshly on the hard surface. Shocked, she turned toward him and was treated to the sight of that damnable smirk on his face.

"Let's play a game," he said, smirking. "I'll ask you questions and you'll answer them truthfully. You can stay there like that. I think it suits you more."

Hermione's fingers curled into a fist as she stared at him, knowing he would be asking something to further humiliate her and Ron.

"Who has a bigger cock, Mrs. Weasley? Me? Or your trash husband?"

"You," the answer came out automatically and Harry chuckled at the defeated look on her face. He didn't need validation, least of all from someone like her, but driving the point of humiliation home repeatedly was the game.

"Who has pleasured you more? Your husband until today? Or me in the short period we've been here?"

"You, master," she whispered, her conviction all but shattered. Harry was not forcing her to lie. All he had told her was to answer truthfully, and she knew. Deep down, she knew that he had brought her more pleasure, even in a perverse sort of way, than whatever her husband had done to her until now. Utter revulsion coursed through her at that thought. Until now, she had blamed the magic of the vow and even Ron for her predicament, but for the first time, she felt guilty. Her thoughts and her emotions were her own, and they were screaming the truth to her. She knew. Deep down, she knew no matter what her husband ever did, he would never compare to whatever Harry had done to her so far.

'And if the vow doesn't free me from my debt, then who knows what else he would do to me?' she thought, hating herself for feeling the slightest hint of eagerness to find out.

All the while, Harry kept listening to her inner thoughts with a triumphant expression on his face, letting her know he was perfectly aware of what she felt and what she had been thinking about. He reveled in her humiliation, both forced on her and the one he had brought out of her forcibly – the one she probably never even knew about.

"See, that wasn't too hard," Harry said in amusement. "And now that we both know you've been lying, mind admitting the truth behind that statement of yours? 'My husband is more of a man than you could ever hope to be,' I believe you said."

"I lied because I didn't want to admit it," she whispered.

"Admit what?"

"That my husband doesn't compare to you in any manner."

"Come here," he instructed, patting his lap, as he stared at her defeated face. He smirked when she gingerly stood up and assumed her previous position without any prompting on his part like a truly obedient submissive. She had settled into her new role nicely, but he felt a little more enforcement was needed so that she would remember where her place was.

He picked up the paddle that he had placed on the couch beside him and before she could react, he smacked the right cheek of her ass twice in quick succession, making her let out a loud moan.

"NINETEEN! AAHHHHH! MMMMHHHH! TWENTY!"

"Wow, look at that. You counted them all perfectly. Good. Very good," Harry praised and put the paddle away. Hermione whimpered on his lap, feeling the searing pain in her ass. It felt oh so painful, and yet she could not stop the wetness pooling between her legs. Harry chuckled and gathered her wet juices on his fingers before he rubbed them over both the cheeks of her ass. Hermione winced at the rough contact before her eyes widened when he blew cold air over her wet ass.

Harry was amused as she released a soft sigh at the sensation of cold air over her sensitive skin. He could feel that tautness leaving her muscles and how she relaxed on his lap. She seemed to believe her humiliation was over now. How utterly mistaken she was.

"Tell me truthfully, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, smirking. "Did you like your punishment?"

"Yes, master," she whispered truthfully, as her master had asked of her.

"That was not my intention," he chuckled. "Alas, nothing I can do about that now."

Hermione remained silent on his lap with her eyes barely open as she lay limply.

"Tell me truthfully again, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "Are you feeling aroused?"

"Yes, master," she whispered truthfully again, as her master had asked of her.

"Indeed?" Harry chuckled.

"Yes, master."

"Do you want to cum, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Yes, master."

Harry nodded.

"And how would you prefer to do it?"

Blearily, Hermione turned her head to glance at him before her eyes dropped to his semi-hard prick. Her eyes traveled back up to his face and she replied, "I would prefer to do it with your thing, master."

Harry smirked at the shameful expression on her face. The magic of the vow was not letting her be anything but truthful and he knew the taboo seed of how someone else's cock would feel inside her had already been planted in her mind.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, head cocked to the side as he regarded her.

Shamefully, Hermione nodded.

"Yes, master…"

Suddenly, Harry stood up and once again, Hermione was sent tumbling to the floor. She winced at the impact and looked up at him.

Harry was staring at her almost-naked form and Hermione found, to more of her shame, that she was getting hotter with the realization that he could perhaps ask to see her naked. She was mortified to discover that a part of her wanted him to make her strip entirely. She wanted him to see her naked, to see the sight that only her husband should, and that thought filled her with utter shame.

She was shocked, however, when he started to fix his clothes.

Silently, she watched as he dressed back before looking at his smirking face.

"Good to know how depraved you truly are, Mrs. Weasley," he stated in a matter-of-fact voice, making her feel even more shameful. She knew he was aware of everything she had been thinking about. "But I have places to be. Can't let you hog all my time, you know? It's getting late as well."

Hermione looked out of the window and saw that the Sun had already set and the entire neighborhood was shrouded in darkness. Not even the streetlights were alight.

"However, I'm not done with you. I'm your master until magic decides otherwise, after all."

Hermione stared up at him helplessly.

"I'll tell you the time and place for our next meeting," he smirked. "Until then though, there are a few things I'll like you to do. Pay attention. I won't repeat anything."

Demurely, Hermione nodded.

"First, you are not allowed to climax by any means until our next meeting. That means no masturbation or letting your husband touch you, among anything else that depraved mind of yours might be able to conjure."

The brunette's eyes widened in shock but she had no choice but to nod in resignation.

"Good. Second, you are not to heal your ass until the day after tomorrow. Let it stay like that."

"B-but—"

She trailed off at the sight of his raised eyebrow.

"I don't like it when my servants object or question me, Mrs. Weasley," he said in a warning tone. Hermione nodded obediently. "Good. The third thing is for you to get some sexy attire for yourself, lingerie included. I like to take in the sight before I take them off."

Hermione made to speak up before abruptly shutting her mouth. Harry could hear her mind working furiously about how she would get enough money to buy everything when suddenly she heard a soft clang. Looking over, she saw a small bag full of galleons fall to the floor.

"Go on, pick it up. Use it to get yourself the best of the goods you can find," he smirked. Hermione nodded submissively and reached forward to grab the bag.

"The fourth and the final thing you need to do is to think of a proper name for me to call you. It should remind you of your place here, so do keep that in mind," Harry smirked. "I'd love to keep reminding you who you are, but I feel you'd like something personal and I'm open to accommodate that. I'm not unkind, after all."

Hermione nodded obediently in understanding. Harry was truly surprised but not at all unwelcoming of how quickly and easily she had understood her role in this and how seamlessly she had transitioned into this master-servant thing they had going on.

"Alright then, I'll be going now. You can get dressed and leave whenever you want. I'll be seeing you soon," Harry nodded, and before Hermione could blink, he apparated away.

The brunette stared at the spot he had been in mere moments ago before her eyes dropped to her body. Gingerly, she stood up and walked over to the mirror in the corner. She turned around and looked over her shoulder, grimacing at the sorry sight that her rear was. Wincing, she walked back to where her clothes were and gingerly started to put them on. Her top was easy enough but her jeans were another matter entirely. The moment she felt them touch her rear, a searing pain shot through her and she stopped.

It was half an hour later when an utterly spent Hermione Weasley tentatively walked out of #4 Privet Drive and with a final look around the dark and deserted neighborhood, she apparated back home.

TBC.

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