The floo flared a brilliant shade of emerald green and Harry was the first to step out. Hermione's eyes widened when she saw where they were and she whirled to face him, finding him smirking at her.
"Surprised? Don't be. You should've guessed this would happen," Harry remarked casually as he walked around, his eyes darting around. "Pretty fine job you've done with this place."
"W-What are we doing here?" She asked searchingly. At his raised eyebrow, she added a quiet and belated, "Master…"
"You seem to slip up at odd times, Harmony…" Harry tutted. "Or rather, I should call you Jessica. That's what your name is during this trip, after all."
"I'm sorry, Master. I'll take care not to do it again," she said quietly.
"Mmm. Make sure you don't," he replied, his eyes trained on the two open doors. "The wastebin doesn't seem around. That's a shame. I'd thought to do it in front of him."
Hermione's breath hitched slightly at the thought, polarizing emotions taking root within her. The sheer depravity of the proposal sent rivulets of forbidden desire through her, and accompanying those feelings was one of disgust. Harry watched everything unfolding on her pretty face and he chuckled.
"No matter. We can get him involved sometime in the future. For now, this will have to do."
"What will you have me do, Master?" She asked obediently, both to take her mind off those conflicting thoughts and to get whatever it was over with as soon as she could.
"Why the hurry, Jessica?" Harry asked with an easy smile as he approached her. Hermione remained rooted to the spot, her hands clenched on the fabric of her sheer dress and her toes curled in both nervousness and anticipation as she kept her eyes downcast in front of him, both in subservience and anxiety.
"I-It's not hurry, M-Master… I-I just don't want to keep you w-waiting more than you already h-have," she managed to get out, her breathing growing ragged.
"Oh? That's very thoughtful of you," Harry said softly as he came to a stop in front of her and gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look deeply into his emerald orbs. "Do you remember what I told you last night?"
Hermione's eyes shut as she felt him run his hand along her left, his touch daring as he explored her curves. She recalled the words the woman had said and nodded gently.
"Y-Yes, Master," she whispered.
"Remind me."
"You told me that I'll have my body like this as l-long as I-I keep you satisfied, M-Master… I understand…"
She slowly opened her eyes and began to lower herself when suddenly, she was grabbed firmly by the waist and hoisted in the air. A gasp escaped her as Harry lifted her and grabbed her by the rear, holding her against himself. Her legs automatically came to wrap around his waist as she pressed her lace-clad mound against his crotch, gazing deeply into his amused emerald pools.
"As much as I like you knowing your place, you need to keep me satisfied. If I wanted a muggle robot to service me, I would've enchanted something. You need improvement, Jessica. And you need initiative. Creativity. I want you to think on your feet and improvise. How long are you going to be the same dumb bookworm who can do nothing beyond what's instructed to her, either by a book, or a professor, or your dear Master now?"
Hermione remained silent as Harry began walking, and she saw him taking them to her and Ron's bedroom, or what it used to be until their fight.
"I wanted to have that bastard watch as I fucked you in the bed you two shared. It's a shame he's not here right now. But don't worry, he will see you fuck me, better and with way more desire than you ever fucked him, in his lovely marriage bed. Won't he, Jessica?"
"Yes, Master," she whispered, her desires coming to the forefront of her mind as she imagined the sight of Ron standing, wide-eyed, as she rode her Master… as he bent her over in front of him and gave it to her from behind. Her womanhood started to grow wetter the more she thought about it and it was impossible for Harry to miss the scent of her arousal.
Smirking, he slid his hand down and pushed his fingers under the fabric of her lace knickers, feeling how wet she was.
"Oh damn, just the thought made you so horny? You don't even need the foreplay right now," he whispered as he walked forward and slowly lowered himself on the bed, sliding backward so that he was lying in the middle, his upper body resting on a small mountain of pillows.
Hermione let out a soft moan as she felt her damn womanhood rest right on top of his erection and she began to gyrate herself atop him. Her breath hitched when he delivered a resounding slap on her rear before he slid her knickers to the side, exposing her gushing pussy to the cold air. She shivered at the sensation she felt against herself.
"Deep inside, you are a slut, Jessica," he grunted as he freed his member and slapped the head against her entrance, probing gently. "Admit it."
"I am a slut, Master," she whispered.
"Exactly."
With a powerful thrust, he buried his entire length deep inside her wanton quim and Hermione howled to the heavens, her head thrown back. She shivered as she felt the same coldness from the previous night crawl all over her body, caressing her skin and her curves.
"Feeling it?" Harry asked as he kept thrusting hard and fast into her. "That's magic at work. It's sustaining these boons I've granted you. You better be grateful for everything I've done for you, Jessica."
"I am!" She cried out, bracing herself as she planted her hands atop his chest and rode him eagerly, rolling her hips against him as she took him deeper inside her. She could feel him reaching deeper than Ron ever had, and the desire to have him watch as someone, who was way more of a man than he was, taking her like this in their shared bed struck her once again. She did not know how and why she had developed such a forbidden desire, but the sight of her husband witnessing the cuckolding he so sorely deserved after the pathetic stunt he had pulled was not going to leave her anytime soon.
"That's right," Harry chuckled as he gazed up at her, having heard everything she had been feeling and thinking. He reached up and pulled her new and large tits – easily a handful – out of her sheer cocktail dress, watching how they jiggled enticingly in front of his face. Even if someone examined them, it was impossible to guess that those were new and not natural.
Averting his eyes from her tits, he gazed up at her scrunched-up face. She had her eyes firmly shut as she rode him, her teeth chewing hotly on her bottom lip. Her fingernails dug into his skin, not as hard as to draw blood but still enough to leave marks, as she kept herself upright. Meanwhile, his hands caressed her sides, occasionally reaching up to play with her perky tits. The fabric of her dress was soft and silky, and it didn't even register with him that he was touching her under her clothes. They might as well not be there if he was being honest.
Hermione's toes curled as she kept fucking her Master. The thought that she was fucking him in her marriage bed stimulated her in ways she could not fathom, and her arousal kept skyrocketing. Coupled with the magnificent cock of her master that continued to plunge deeper and harder inside her dripping snatch, it was no surprise that she could already feel the tightening in her lower belly.
Harry knew she was close, and he intensified the pace and ferocity of his thrusts. He slammed hard up into her, making her cry and moan out loud, uncaring of who might hear. Her large tits bounced around, slapping against each other, and it was impossible for her to keep herself upright. Her hands gave away and she fell over on top of him, smashing her large tits against his chest as she breathed heavily into his neck.
He kept fucking her hard and fast as she exploded around his cock, and he continued to drill furiously inside her throughout her orgasm. She was left a shivering mess by the time he slowed down, and her breathing was ragged from the intense climax that had coursed through her.
Slowly, she came down from her orgasmic high and realized that he was still as hard as a rock inside her. Lifting her head off his neck, she gazed down at him before swinging her leg off him, pulling her pussy off his cock. Her hot juices slithered down her quim as she leaned over his cock, her lips parted eagerly as she hiked her rear high in the air.
"Go on," Harry instructed, and she obediently obliged. Plunging her hot mouth on his slick, wet prick, she began to suck him off, pushing her head up and down his length. She fed him down her gullet, deepthroating him, and Harry had to be honest and admit that she was improving nicely.
Being close to his orgasm already, it did not take long for Harry to erupt inside her mouth. However, Hermione kept blowing him off even as he started to shoot his massive load inside her mouth. She took it all, feeling the thick splatters of his seed against the roof of her mouth and the back of her throat. Throughout his climax, she kept moving her head up and down, her tongue licking him all over as she kept sucking him clean.
Her makeup had already become a mess, her lipstick smeared off as she finally pulled away, gazing at him.
"Good girl," Harry praised, smirking as he saw her preen. No matter what, Hermione would always remain the girl who loved to be commended for a well-done job.
-Break-
Their arrival in the portkey office went mostly unnoticed if one discounted the fact that every employee was starstruck at the sight of the Harry Potter who was accompanied by an unfamiliar woman dressed in a modest set of robes that hid something much more scandalous underneath.
Introducing her as one of his assistants who would be aiding him in his sports business ventures, the pair made their way to their booth where an attendant handed a metal bar to Harry who accepted it with a courteous smile.
"Thank you, Simon," Harry greeted the man politely who bowed in respect and walked away.
Turning toward his companion, he held the bar out. Hermione glanced at it for a long moment, knowing what awaited her on the other side, before she slowly reached out and grasped it. With a powerful tug around their navel, they were whisked away from Britain.
It took them mere seconds before they found themselves in another portkey booth, and without any ado, Harry led the way out.
"Mr. Potter! Welcome to Sofia!"
"Greetings, Andrei," Harry smiled, reaching out and shaking the man's hand.
"Viktor sent me here to escort you to the club facilities," Andrei continued in his heavily accented English. "Please, hold on to this rope."
They reached out and once again found themselves whisked away, although the distance and thus the time taken was much shorter.
Powerful winds blew as they stood atop a cliff overlooking a massive facility that looked to be at least two hundred thousand square meters in area. There was a massive Quidditch stadium with three hoops on either end and massive stands rising high in the air. In the distance were the training grounds for both the main squad and the youth teams, another stadium that was smaller and held official matches for those youth teams, and recreation centers. It was a massive undertaking, having developed so much in the past few years under Harry's ownership.
"You remembered, Andrei?" Harry asked with a chuckle as the man brought out three pristine broomsticks – the Firebolt Aspire that had been unveiled a year ago. It was the broom that the professionals had started to use now and as Harry reached out to grasp it, he could feel the potent magic thrumming through the enchanted wood. "Truly remarkable."
"How could I forget, sir?" Andrei smiled.
Harry swung a leg over the broom before he glanced at Jessica who was staring at it with apprehension written on her face in bold, block letters. Chuckling, he jolted her slightly, making her blink owlishly.
"Up for a flight, I hope?" he smirked and before she could react, he shot off toward the administrative building in the distance. She watched on with wide eyes as Andrei followed suit right away, leaving her by herself on the cliff.
Hermione stared at the dot that was Harry, watching as it kept getting smaller by the second. Shaking her head, she gingerly mounted the broomstick and pushed off the cliff. Her eyes shot open when she was thrust through the air at a breakneck pace.
The wind whipped her hair back, her eyes widening as the ground became a blur beneath her. Panic set in almost instantly. The broom was going too fast—way too fast. She tried to pull up, to slow down, but it was no use. It was like the broom had a mind of its own, and it wasn't interested in stopping.
She felt her fingers slip from the handle and she gasped, feeling herself lose control. Suddenly, she was airborne—without the broom. She flailed, gravity yanking her downward, the world spinning as she fell. The ground rushed toward her, a sickening feeling of helplessness flooding her mind.
"I'm going to die," she thought, terror coursing through her veins as the distance between her and the ground shrank.
Out of nowhere, strong arms enveloped her. Her body jerked to a halt mid-air, the violent rush of wind around her ceasing. She gasped, the sudden shift in momentum leaving her breathless, but she wasn't falling anymore.
She opened her eyes, heart still pounding, to find herself cradled against the chest of a man—someone she had never seen before. He held her effortlessly, his arms steady and sure as he guided them both through the air. She could feel the power in the way he flew, his broom moving smoothly beneath him as he brought them toward a distant building.
The panic in her chest slowly subsided, replaced by disbelief. She was safe.
They descended gracefully, his hold on her never wavering, and soon her feet touched solid ground. They had landed by a building at the edge of the field, far from where she had nearly met her end.
Breathing hard, she looked up at her rescuer. His face was calm, his expression unreadable beneath the windswept brown hair framing his features. He didn't say anything immediately, just held her gaze for a moment before letting her down gently.
"You should be more careful," he said, his voice deep and steady with a hint of amusement in his tone. Hermione felt herself shiver as she gazed at him.
She caught herself and blinked, still in shock, her legs trembling beneath her. "I—I thought I was going to die."
He chuckled, his lips curving into a small smile. "Not really. The entire facility is enchanted. You would've been lowered to the ground safely."
Hermione's eyes widened at the revelation. "Then why…?"
The man chuckled as she trailed off. "Do I need an excuse to help out a stunning woman?" He asked candidly, his gaze dipping lower for just a moment. "You might want to fix that though."
Blinking, Hermione glanced downwards and her eyes bugged out. The top three buttons of her modest robe had come undone and her impressive cleavage clad in that stunning dress was there for all to see. She hurriedly fixed herself up and turned back to him.
Before she could speak though, he mounted his broom again, rising into the air as easily as if it were second nature. He glanced back at her one last time, a knowing look in his eyes, before disappearing into the sky as swiftly as he had appeared.
She stood there, breathless, and her heart thumping hard in her chest, as she tried to process what had just happened.
"Had fun?"
The amused voice from behind her made her whirl around and her wide eyes fell on none other than Harry who stood with his hands in his pockets, his hair swaying in the powerful wind as he slowly approached her.
"I thought I'd die," she whispered.
"Please," Harry chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "I know how much you suck at brooms. I wouldn't have made you ride one, and a bloody Firebolt at that, if I knew you were in any danger."
"I didn't know I was never in any danger!"
"Oh? I assumed you knew. You always do, after all," Harry remarked with genuine surprise before his features morphed into one of understanding. "On second thought, you never were the least bit interested in Quidditch, so I guess it makes sense that you wouldn't know the standard practices with all professional teams."
Hermione slowly breathed in and out, bringing her heartbeat back under control. She found him staring at something behind her and as she glanced over, she saw the same man from before flying in the air, although simply flying was an understatement. He was gliding through the air, the acrobatic moves he kept pulling even in the windy atmosphere giving away the fact that he was a professional.
"Surprising you didn't recognize him, by the way," Harry remarked as he stepped closer and Hermione's breath hitched when he grabbed her now-shapely behind over her robe, giving it a firm squeeze.
"Should I?" She managed, watching on.
"You tell me. You went to the Yule Ball with his older brother, after all," Harry chuckled as she whirled around to face him, her eyes wide. "Yep. That's Viktor's brother. The youngest member of the first team. Promoted last year, actually. Quite skilled with the broom, as you can see."
Hermione nodded absently, watching Viktor's brother doing those maneuvers in the air with fascination apparent in her gaze. Harry noticed her look and smirked.
"Well then, looks like you're ready to begin your little journey already, eh?" He remarked, gazing into the sky. "I didn't expect it'd be with Ivan though."
Hermione remained silent, unable to offer any rebuttal in the face of the truth. Now that she had accepted this new side of her, as much as she had at least, she had indeed thought about it.
"Well, you didn't have Viktor. A kiss was the max if I remember correctly, right? Seems his brother will get the full package," Harry whispered in her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down Hermione's spine.
She stood there, motionless, and her eyes followed Ivan through the air as he tore straight ahead on the broomstick.
"Luckily for you, there will be enough opportunities for it," Harry continued. "All you need to do is be ready and snatch it up. Bloke's got no shortage of Eastern-European beauties throwing themselves at him. With the way you look now, well… I bet the horndog will be interested."
'Oh, he looked interested, alright,' Hermione thought to herself, making Harry's smirk widen as he heard it loud and clear.
"Good for you. Go, live your life," Harry remarked, chuckling as he gently spanked her over her robe one final time before walking away.
As Hermione kept staring at the man flying the broom, Harry turned around and the easy smile on his face morphed into a sneer as he walked toward the administrative building.
"Follow me, Jessica," he called out, hearing the swift movement of feet behind him.
Hermione's journey had indeed begun nicely. The seeds he had planted within her had taken root, and her desires were bubbling underneath the surface, impatiently waiting to be unleashed. He could see that she was interested in fucking the young lad, and fuck him she would… or rather, she would believe she had.
He was one possessive bastard, and he knew that. No one else could lay claim to what was his, and no matter what, Hermione was his now. She could believe all she wanted that she had fucked Krum, or Krum's brother, or any other bloke from the United Kingdom to fucking Australia, but the only man who would ever touch her with authority was him.
His objective was to turn her into this slut that he knew lurked just underneath the surface inside her. As long as she believed she had done it, it was fair game. She could live with the memories of fucking all those blokes, but the reality would be altogether different.
Tapping the little bottle of liquor in his pocket that contained something else entirely, Harry schooled his features into a polite smile once again.
As they passed through the gates, the emblem of the Vratsa Vultures, a silver vulture with its wings spread wide, loomed above them. It was a symbol Harry had come to respect. Being the owner and president of a professional Quidditch team wasn't just about the glory; it was about the responsibility of keeping the club's legacy alive.
"Harry," Krum greeted him with a firm handshake, his Slavic accent still thick despite having spent years away from Bulgaria. His hair was even shorter now, but his eyes still held the same intensity from his days as a professional Seeker. At his urging, Krum had taken on the role of Sporting Director after retiring from professional play, and his knowledge of the game was invaluable.
"Viktor," Harry smiled. "You look ready for another season."
"I hope the players feel the same way," Krum said with a smirk. "Come, we have much to discuss."
They entered Krum's office, a room lined with Quidditch memorabilia—pictures of old matches, broken Beater bats, and a golden Snitch encased in glass. They took their seats and Harry accepted the glass of firewhiskey, swirling it about as he made himself comfortable.
"The season's objectives are clear," he began, looking over the portrait of his club's players lifting the European Cup. "It's all or nothing. Win the league, get that European Cup again, and have the academy shine. Still, what's the status on new signings?"
Krum leaned back, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "We've already secured two key transfers. A new Keeper from Montrose Magpies, excellent reflexes, and a Chaser from Puddlemere United—young, fast, with a lot of potential. But there's still the issue of the Beater position, with Hammerby retiring this year. It's high time we signed a young replacement."
Harry's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "We need power in that spot. Someone who's going to be able to hold up against the heavy hitters."
"I might have someone in mind," Krum said, leaning forward slightly, the tone of his voice catching Harry's attention. "There's a young Beater from the Appleby Arrows. Boy's got talent, raw power. He's still rough around the edges, but with the right training, he could be exactly what we need."
Harry's face lit up with interest. "And he's open to moving?"
Krum grimaced. "That's the issue. Appleby is his boyhood club. We've approached him through his agent, but he's playing hard ball. It would take more than just money to convince him."
Harry leaned back in his chair, tapping his chin in thought. The Vultures needed this signing if they were serious about competing at the highest level in the upcoming seasons. However, convincing a player to leave his childhood team was always tricky. His gaze wandered, almost absentmindedly, before landing on Jessica. A thought flickered in his mind, and a slow, knowing smirk began to form on his lips.
Krum noticed the shift in his expression instantly. "What is it, Harry?"
"I might have an idea," Harry said, his smirk widening slightly, eyes now twinkling with a plan.
Krum raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "What kind of idea?"
"Leave it to me," Harry replied smoothly, still smirking. His eyes met Jessica's briefly, and in that split second, she knew exactly what he had in mind. She'd seen this look before, and his plan was crystal clear to her. The same thoughts from before rose within her, and as she gazed at him, she knew what her role was going to be.
Krum stared at him for a few more moments but didn't press further. He trusted Harry's judgment, both on and off the field. The man had a way of getting things done that others couldn't, a way of making even the most improbable situations work in his favor.
"Very well," he said with a sigh. "But I hope it's good. I don't think we can afford to let this one slip away."
"It will be," Harry assured him. "We've got the squad, the facilities, and the ambition. Now we just need that one final piece."
For the next half an hour, they discussed other related aspects of the club, both sporting and otherwise, before Harry broached the topic of Krum's brother.
"Ivan looks ready to become a regular," he remarked, placing the empty glass of firewhiskey on the table. He felt Jessica twitch beside him and smothered a grin, merely gracing her with an amused glance. The mere mention of the foreigner was already enough to make her visibly react.
"Aye, he does," Krum nodded, a proud gleam in his eyes. "My parents say he'll surpass me one day."
"I sure hope he does," Harry nodded. "Better for our club. I'd like to see you two go at it though. What do you think?"
"I think we can arrange something," Krum smirked, his competitive fire still burning fiercely. "What about you? Care to try your hand with a couple of pros?"
"And embarrass the same pros?" Harry taunted, chuckling. "I don't think that'd send a good message out to the fans – club legend and wonderkid outclassed by a non-pro President. The press will have a field day."
"I still can't believe what a cocky little shit you've become, Harry," Krum snorted, earning a smirk.
"I guess I already had it in me. Just needed something to force it out," Harry replied, eyeing his former best friend out of the corner of his eyes and watching her shift uncomfortably. "That should be enough for now, I reckon. I'll catch up with you later, Viktor."
As Harry got up and walked toward the door with Jessica by his side, he glanced back at Krum with a half-smile. "About that Beater… You'll see soon enough. Just trust me on this."
Krum shook his head, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "I always do."
As they left the office and made their way toward the main building, Jessica finally spoke up, "He didn't recognize me at all…"
Harry chuckled, giving her a sidelong glance. "Of course he didn't. That was kinda the whole point of that needle."
She remained silent for a few moments as they walked through the empty corridor, occasionally glancing at him out of the corners of her eyes.
"So… about that Beater…"
"Hmm… What about him?" Harry asked nonchalantly.
She took a deep breath as she replied, "I believe you want me to… do something about it?"
"If you want to," Harry replied, shrugging. "I've told you I want you to broaden your horizons. If you believe you can get it done while doing what I've told you to do, then be my guest. But if you're having any doubts, I can't have you screwing things up."
Jessica pursed her lips as they walked, her eyes fixated on the floor.
"Think about the one who's here first, Jessica," Harry said without looking at her. "Get a proper taste, without being made to do anything. I bet you'll find it so much liberating that it will change you completely."
She remained silent as they kept walking, occasionally passing by several club employees who greeted Harry respectfully. Her mind kept relaying his words, repeating the plans he had for her and the choices she had going ahead for herself. She could not deny how those thoughts made her feel, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
As Harry glanced at her, he saw the resolute expression on her face and stifled a chuckle. Smirking, he continued walking.
Hermione had already accepted what she wanted, and given how meticulous she was, he knew how much effort she would put into it.
He was so looking forward to seeing the fruits of her newfound desires, especially when she was not subservient and did not know who it was in place of the 'other men' she would be giving herself to.
Her journey was beginning nicely.
TBC.
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