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Stress Relief (Harry Potter)
🕑 Added 2019-03-29 16:55:44 +0000 UTCWeekly Poll Winner
Themes: Bondage, Pet Play, Dom/Sub
Summary: By day, Hermione is the best Minister of Magic that Wizarding Britain has had in a long, long time. But even the most powerful of people, be they woman or man, need to have some way to relieve stress. It just so happens that for the brunette know-it-all witch, her way of relieving stress is spending her nights as nothing more than Harry Potter's sex kitten.
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“Madam Minister? I’m heading out for the evening. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”
Looking up, Hermione smiles at the expectant face of her Junior Assistant. While the younger witch clearly wants to be getting home, she’s also ready and willing to carry out any tasks that Hermione might have for her. In the end though, the Minister for Magic just shakes her head.
“I’m fine, thank you. Have a good night.”
“You too, Madam Minister.”
And like that, the girl is gone. Hermione Granger lets out a soft sigh once the door is closed, and sits back in her chair, looking around her office for a moment. She can’t help but smile a bit wider. It felt good, to be sitting where she was sitting. It felt good, to be the youngest Minister of Magic to ever be elected.
Truth be told, Hermione Granger was likely the best Minister for Magic that Wizarding Britain had had in a long, long time. Not that she would ever try to lay claim to that title. She was no braggart, and she wasn’t looking to make history books or anything like that. Though it would certainly be nice to be mentioned, here and there, as having done a good job.
In the end, that was all Hermione cared about, as Minister. She wanted to do a good job. She wanted to make the wizarding world better. So far, she liked to think that she’d done just that. But at the same time, she also knew her work was never done. It was half the reason why she had had to break things off with Ron, years back when she’d first decided to run for her current position.
To his credit, Ronald had taken her decision with surprising aplomb. But then, she imagined that he found it easier to get over because she wasn’t leaving him for a man, but instead, the job. Hermione hadn’t had a single relationship since breaking things off with the red head. Instead, she was married to her work, married to her position. With Ron and Harry’s help, becoming Minister for Magic had been surprisingly easy. With the influence they had after the war, changing things, making the world a better place for all, not just those with money or ‘pure blood’ had been, not quite easy, but at least possible.
But, her work was never done. Looking over at a map on the wall, Hermione smiles slightly upon seeing that the Ministry was all but empty at this point in the evening. It was an ingenious bit of magic, transferred over from the marauder’s map. It gave her, as Minister for Magic, the ability to see every last person in the Ministry at any given time. The only things not on the map were the restrooms, for obvious reasons.
Regardless, as she watches her Junior Assistant’s name vanish from the edge, signaling the younger witch’s departure, Hermione goes back to her work. Right now, the Ministry is only manned by a skeleton crew, and in truth, Hermione herself could have left hours ago. But that wasn’t the kind of woman that Hermione Granger was. She was a worker, and a hard one at that. Always had been.
Another hour passes in which Hermione continues to work late into the night. She’s long since finished her paperwork for the day of course, and is now working on the language for a piece of legislation she intends to put through the Wizengamot concerning House Elf rights. The female Minister has long since come to understand that House Elves needed to serve in order to survive… but just because they didn’t want to be free didn’t mean she was going to allow them to be abused.
House Elves could continue to be House Elves without suffering daily beatings from the worst sorts of wizards and witches out there. They deserved to have basic protections, and it was up to the Ministry to make sure that they did. Hermione would see it done. She just had to get the wording exactly right, so that not a single one of those idiots in the Wizengamot could poke holes in her argument.
Of course, even as engrossed in her work as she is, Hermione doesn’t fail to notice it when her private floo suddenly turns on, green flames roaring up in the what had been a dark fireplace moments before. She pulls back from her desk and stares at the flames for a moment. When no one comes through and no face appears in the green fire, Hermione’s cheeks pink up slightly, and she stands.
The first thing that the Minister for Magic does is lock down her office with a flick of her wand. Then, she begins to strip. Her clothing comes off, piece by piece, garment by garment. Every movement she makes is efficient, and soon, her outfit sits folded up atop her desk as Hermione stands there, completely naked in the middle of her office.
The next thing that the nude witch does is pull out a hair tie, and drag her brunette locks up into a ponytail. Once she has that in place, she finally takes her wand and unlocks a hidden compartment in the wall of her office. This is not her office’s normal wall safe. In fact, it’s on the opposite wall from that, and much better hidden. Anyone who might have managed to infiltrate her office when she wasn’t there was more likely to find the actual safe, rather than this hidden compartment. Which is good, because while it would be devastating if someone robbed the Minister for Magic’s office, it would be the end of her career if they found the contents of this compartment.
Reaching in, Hermione pulls out the three items that await her inside. There’s a toy pair of plastic cat ears, a tail butt plug, and a collar with her name on it in gold. Taking them over to her desk, Hermione starts with the cat ears. The moment she fits the plastic cat ears over her head, pressing the ring to her hair and skull, they begin to transform. Magic is a wonderful thing, and what looks like a simple set of toy ears transforms into a pair of ACTUAL cat ears, protruding from Hermione’s head, twitching this way and that.
She can even hear through them, and she can move them at will on top of everything else. The anal butt plug comes up next, and Hermione flushes a bit in anticipation as she bends over her desk and slowly inserts it into her rectum, gasping all the while. It’s self-lubricating of course, and once it’s nestled inside of her, the magic inherent in it activates as well. The cat tail flowing down from between her butt cheeks begins to twitch and move, before slowly raising into the air as Hermione finds it as easy to control as her fingers or her toes.
Finally, there’s her collar. This, Hermione does not put on. Instead, she takes the collar and places it between her lips, biting down on it with her teeth. Once it’s securely in her mouth, Hermione slowly sinks down to her hands and knees. With her cat ears twitching and her cat tail raised high in the air above her, the naked witch crawls into her office’s active floo.
A moment later, she’s somewhere else, crawling out into a familiar study. The floor shuts off behind her, but Hermione pays it no mind. Instead, she makes her way over to an occupied armchair and sits back on her haunches before it, presenting herself, naked tits and glistening wet cunt on display as she offers up the collar in her mouth to the man sitting in the chair.
Harry James Potter spends just a few more seconds ignoring her in favor of the tome in his hands, before finally bookmarking it and setting it aside. Only then does he look at her, frowning slightly.
“You were working late again, Hermione.”
He takes the collar from her mouth a moment later, and Hermione ducks her head, blushing slightly.
“Sorry, but you know how I get.”
Letting out a sigh, Harry leans over and Hermione cranes her neck, offering it to him as he puts the collar on her.
“I do indeed know how you get.”
Hermione doesn’t get a chance to respond, because the collar locks in place a moment later, and the magic takes hold, robbing her of her voice and leaving only mewing, mewling sounds in it’s place. As the cat girl meows up at her Master, Harry looks down at her with a kind smile, rubbing behind her fluffy, furry ears atop her head.
She’s still in complete control of her faculties, of course. This is still Hermione Jean Granger, though she wasn’t really the Minister for Magic right now. Even the most powerful of politicians, be they man or woman, needed to have a way to relieve stress, after all. Hermione was no different, in that regard. She was not some unrelenting pillar of strength that could go on and on forever.
That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try sometimes. Or even that she simply wouldn’t even realize she was pushing herself too hard until she’d woken up in St. Mungo’s because she fainted from sheer exhaustion. It had been Harry who first noticed a need for Hermione to find some way to wind down… and it had been Harry who gave her exactly what she truly needed as well, on a personal basis.
Moving in between her legs, Hermione continues to meow, even as she paws at his crotch. Harry chuckles after a moment, and gives her a nod. With permission granted, the ‘cat girl’ happily unbuttons Harry’s trousers and pulls his cock free of his boxers, taking it in both hands and eagerly beginning to lick and lap at its head, like a kitten trying to get their milk. Which in a way, was exactly what Hermione was, at the moment.
As she slurps away at Harry’s bell end, the wizard continues to run a hand through her hair, his fingers sliding between her twitching cat ears, alternating between scratching behind one and then the other. A purr emits from Hermione’s throat, another ability granted by the magical collar around her neck. The cat girl swallows Harry’s cockhead whole at that point, and begins to bob up and down his member, eventually transferring her hands from the lower parts of his length to his thighs instead so she could take him all the way down.
“Someone is as eager as ever for her cream…”
Harry’s murmur is both amused and appreciative, and Hermione flickers her chocolate brown eyes up to his face before speeding herself up a bit, endeavoring to get that ‘cream’ by any means necessary. She doesn’t gag or choke on his cock, even as it goes down the back of her throat. Instead, she swallows. She swallows continuously, suppressing her gag reflex in the process and taking him all the way to the base, time and time again.
“Where does my pet want it today, hm? I’m getting close?”
He sounds almost conversational about it, but Hermione can tell from his churning ball sack that he is indeed very close. Where DOES she want it? After taking a split second to decide, Hermione pulls all the way off of Harry’s cock, and places her hands back around his member as she points it directly at her face. Which of course, she’s quick to present to him, her tongue lolling out and her head tilting back slightly. He begins to cum a moment later, his seed covering her features and landing in her mouth.
What she manages to catch on her tongue, Hermione is sure to collect. She slurps it all up, and when he’s finished, when his cock is milked of his delicious cream, the cat girl makes sure to present her prize to him, lolling her tongue out of her mouth once again to show him what she’s gotten.
“That’s a good girl. You can swallow now.”
She does so happily, gulping down Harry’s seed. Then, she quickly turns around and presents herself to him invitingly. Her magical cat tail butt plug flicks back and forth through the air as Hermione presses her cum-covered face into the carpet and lifts her ass as high as she can. Showing off her glistening pussy lips, the cat girl wiggles her hips back and forth invitingly.
Harry just chuckles, and a moment later, he’s pressing the tip of his cock, still quite hard, up against her drooling quim. Hermione mews as he slides home into her dripping wet cunt, penetrating her, spreading her open, and filling her up with his cock meat. As he starts to fuck her, pounding into her like a jackhammer from above, Hermione lets her eyes lull shut and her moans and meows fill the study as she climaxes again and again around his thrusting prick.
This was exactly what she needed. No one could ever know, though. She could only imagine what they would say about her. To say nothing about how Ron and the Weasleys would react if they knew of her and Harry’s relationship, the rest of the wizarding world would have a field day with it. They would denounce her as nothing but a harlot, a silly little witch slut who wasn’t fit to lead.
And more importantly, they would use her indiscretions to tarnish Harry’s name. They would label him power-hungry. They would call him the next Dark Lord. They would claim he wanted to control the wizarding world through her. It wouldn’t matter to them that he’s never even once tried to influence her work. It wouldn’t matter to them that, outside of this room, outside of this particular sort of play, it was Hermione who used Harry more often than not to get what she wanted. They would believe the worst because that’s what the vast majority of people loved to do. They loved to tear others down, loved to see their heroes crumble.
It was fine though, because they would never find out. Hermione had taken precautions to make sure of that. Hours later, after Harry and her had exhausted each other, a tired, naked, but cleaned-up young woman would step back through her floor, into her locked down office. The cat ears have worn off by now, so they slip off her head with ease, returning to their plastic, toy-like appearance. The collar can only be removed by Harry’s hands, so that’s already off her neck and in her grasp.
Hermione allows herself one little moan as she extracts the cat tail butt plug from her ass, and then she puts all three items back in their hidden compartment, before sealing it up and moving to her desk, where she takes her clothes and begins getting dressed. By the time Hermione leaves her office behind, she’s only going to have a couple of hours until she needs to be back… but then, that’s what time turners are for, isn’t it?
