Well, this is very out of my personal writing box, but it was issued as a challenge and I was in the right mood to actually pull it off. I do hope it lives up to expectations, ladies.
It was a game. Minerva McGonagall liked games. She'd liked the torture and pleasure that was Quidditch matches in her youth, and in her tenure as a Professor of Transfiguration, she enjoyed the game that was enabling certain students to break the rules, and then punishing them when caught. Catching the likes of the Marauders, or the Weasley Twins, or the now quite famous Golden Trio had never been about pure, dumb luck. It was always planned. She'd set the trap. They'd take the bait. Then, she'd punish, though obviously there were lines not to cross with her students. While not as good of a high, playing with her students was still more than a little fun, but it was never sexual with them. Fellow teachers, or in her current role as Headmistress, staff members under her, were perfectly fair game and she would, and had, gone all the way.
She'd spent many years searching for a partner that could last: in and out of Hogwarts, male or female, age appropriate or not. Minerva didn't really care much about the demographics. She wasn't dead set on any one type, per se, so long as they had a brain. Submissive and stupid was easy. Submissive and smart, however, was a difficult thing to find, and so here she was at seventy-four years old, once again on the prowl.
Her target was a female, age thirty, and a member of her staff. The woman was quite beautiful by anyone's standards, and one of the smartest students to pass through Hogwarts in many years, if not the smartest. Hermione Jean Granger was everything Minerva looked for in a partner, by all appearances, though her ability to submit was the question of the moment. The newest Potions Professor had been on staff for three years now, and she commanded respect in her classroom. She commanded the respect of her fellow teachers, and of pretty much anyone who crossed her path. Friend, foe, or something in between - it didn't seem to matter much. Minerva was hard pressed to find even a glimmer of hope that in the wake of such a powerful, assertive exterior, there could be a submissive nature reserved just for the bedroom.
That said, the Scottish witch had a feeling. She couldn't really explain it beyond that. Minerva felt drawn to Professor Granger in a way she'd never before felt, and she'd often catch herself more than ready to drown in those chocolate eyes. She felt helpless against the pull, which was not something she was used to. She felt a connection just begging to be realized, and it was on the verge of driving her crazy.
The book she had been trying to read and cup of tea set on the end table, Minerva cast the appropriate charms to lock her office door, then banished every stitch of her clothing and lay down on the sofa she'd been sitting on with a heavy, frustrated sigh.
One hand reached for her opposite breast, fingernails digging into the soft flesh and prompting a hiss at the sharp pain. Her free hand reached down between her legs - one knee up against the back of the sofa and the other relaxing to the ground - and her fingers began to spread the moisture already there onto and around her clit, creating a smooth layer of lubricant with which to facilitate fast movement against already swollen flesh.
Minutes later, Minerva was gasping against the urge to stop rubbing herself, but she refused to stop now, knowing just how much she needed a strong release. She knew this was all Hermione's fault, she knew how much she wanted the younger witch, and she knew that despite calling the Potions Mistress her prey, it was she that was slowly but surely becoming the submissive one. She'd do anything, she knew, to take Hermione to bed - even submit, which was the one thing in all of her life she'd never, ever done.
What she didn't know, however, was that this was more than alright with her youngest staff member. Hermione had been itching for years to dominate the mighty Head of Hogwarts, and had been secretly watching her for any sign that Minerva would be open to such a different sort of relationship. What Minerva also didn't know was that Hermione was watching her right this very moment, and as the Headmistress lurched - finding completion - she called out Hermione's name with a trailing whimper. Hermione now knew that her target was in prime condition to be dominated, and most certainly wanting to be. Even if she refused to acknowledge it to herself just yet, Minerva McGonagall was going to submit to the will of Hermione Granger.
Professor Hermione Granger wasn't called the brightest witch of her age for no good reason, and that intelligence certainly extended into the bedroom as well. Being a switch, sexually speaking, had allowed her a broad range of experiences and lovers over the years. She remembered her teenage years and the rush she'd felt at being in control of Harry and Ron, who nearly always yielded to her plans with little or no protest. She also remembered being twenty-one and engaged to Ron, and being content to submit to him in their then sexual relationship, though she enjoyed having him dominate her outside the bedroom quite a bit less, which was why she'd broken things off only three months after accepting his proposal. After that, she'd finished her Potions Mastery and then taken the job at Hogwarts, and once she'd moved back to the castle, it became quite clear that if she was going to get laid, it was going to have to be casual. There simply wasn't time to invest into an actual relationship.
So she'd explored. She'd been with other men of various ages, and then she'd tried things out with other women, and decided that she honestly preferred that quite a bit more. The different bits and difference in amount of hair on her partner completely aside, it was far easier to find women who would submit. She'd been with a fair few in the last couple of years, but while she'd found willing, older wizards a-plenty, older witches interested in nothing but sex with someone of the same gender were few and far between.
Minerva had caught her eye nearly at once as she'd begun scouting for an older woman to take to bed, though she'd really had to put in the research time to figure out if the Headmistress was more likely to fire her for suggesting something so sordid, or simply go with it - right into bed. It had not taken long for Hermione to discover that Minerva was a self-proclaimed dominatrix in her own right. In fact, they'd both been with some of the same women. For months, the Potions Mistress had taken this information as irrefutable evidence that she'd never submit to Hermione, and contemplated the notion of simply consenting to be the sub between them for the sake of getting into bed.
Of course, before any sort of real plan could be put into play to convoy her willingness in that regard, her pride reared itself and reminded the younger witch how much she relished in a challenge. How erotic would it be to get her former Professor, a consummate dom, to submit? she'd wondered. After that, Hermione had proceeded to communicate two very important things to Minerva; first, that she was exactly and only what the Headmistress wanted, and second, that Hermione would never, ever submit.
The plan had been put into action nearly a year ago, and after today's little display - for Merlin's sake Minerva's person wards were utter shite! - Hermione was fairly sure the older woman was ripe for the picking. Now, it was down to timing. She had to wait until Minerva was ready to explode with sexual frustration again before she could make a move, or pride would win the battle against need, and Hermione knew damn well there would not be a second chance. So, that evening Hermione discontinued her other, standing liaisons via Owl, and put all of her focus on the tantalizing game of tormenting the Headmistress of Hogwarts with barely appropriate pencil skirts, low cut blouses, and a constantly hungry look in her eye directed at her boss. Minerva wouldn't last a week.
Minerva didn't last a week. She lasted six days - a Sunday afternoon to the following Saturday - before the orgasm in her office the previous weekend proved to be too long ago to keep pretending she wasn't on the verge of dragging Hermione into her personal quarters, binding her into some ridiculously uncomfortable position, and dishing out a level of torture that even Voldemort would have been impressed with. To hell with the Potions Professor's obvious dom status! She had been on her way to her quarters, as it happened, fully intent on setting some things up, when Hermione's patronus reached her, sounding quite panicked and claiming that she'd just arrived at her own quarters to find them tossed by an unknown intruder. Minerva groaned loudly, swearing mentally that she'd murder whoever had waylaid her plans to more or less assault her employee, and turned heel toward the dungeons.
To her surprise, when she arrived she found Hermione's door wide open, but neither mess of belongings or Hermione herself seemed to be present. Minerva knew perfectly well that messes could be cleaned rather quickly, so she presumed the ever efficient Miss Granger had already made right what was disrupted. Too bad that action made it highly unlikely Minerva would be able to catch anyone making the mess in the first place. So much for murdering the culprit.
Probably for the best, she mused to herself, remembering that killing arbitrarily was less sanctioned in the post war Wizarding world, and how unwelcoming Azkaban still was. "Hermione?" she called, stepping fully into the room and wondering where on earth the younger witch was at.
"Crucisericum."
The door to Hermione's quarters slammed shut and sealed, and Minerva hadn't even time enough to raise her wand before it clattered to the ground in the wake of her body being lurched back against an ornately carved cross, and she found herself bound to it as if being set up to be crucified. Her arms were stretched apart, tied to the crossbar, and her legs pulled fruitlessly against what felt like silken rope, keeping her legs securely together and in place. "What the bloody…?" she started to say, seeing Hermione rush toward her out of a dark corner of the room. She couldn't finish the demand for explanation, however, as Hermione then proceeded to gag her with a Gryffindor necktie. The material marginally protected her cheek from the harsh slap that Hermione issued as soon as it was in place.
"Did I give you leave to address me informally?" she inquired with a sneer. "No, tonight I am the Professor and you, Miss McGonagall, are the eager to learn pupil."
Oh, Minerva thought, realization dawning. Oh, my!
Despite the arousal that flooded forward in the knowledge that Hermione wanted her, Minerva's fury at the just thirty year old's gall had her writhing against the ties with a vengeance. Of course, as usual Hermione's spellwork was flawless, so it was a pointless exercise.
"Auferte vestes," the Potions Mistress hissed, and a moment later Minerva was stark naked before her capturer, with nothing but the anger in her eyes to convey her displeasure. Yes, she wanted Hermione just as much as Hermione evidently wanted her, but not this way. Minerva needed to be in control. She yearned for power when it came to sex in a way she yearned for nothing and nobody else. The younger witch was having none of that, however.
Hermione approached, wand in hand and having transfigured her teaching robes into tight leather pants and a matching, skimpy corset that showed more skin than it hid, but hid just enough to make Minerva huff at the lack of breasts revealed. "Quassdigitus," the younger woman muttered, touching each of the Headmistress' nipples in turn with her wand.
At once, Minerva felt as though a decently strong jet of water was surrounding each nipple, and she couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips through the red and gold gag. Gods, she had to get Hermione to teach her that spell. That felt superb!
Her arousal began building, just strong enough to set her hips thrusting toward no promise of contact, but not quite enough to send her even near release. As the teasing continued automatically, Hermione's hands and lips explored every inch of skin on Minerva's exposed torso, methodically searching for those special spots that would enhance what Minerva was already feeling. "Uuurrghh!" Minerva screamed through her gag, frustrated at the lingering tease, and growing angry again, regardless of the sexual pleasure. She. Would. Not. Submit.
Hermione, who had been kneeling in front of her, looked up at the furious green eyes with an expression of complete amusement, and satisfaction in the power she currently wielded. "Impressio," she uttered, pulling out her wand again and pointing it at the three spots she'd managed to find in the last five minutes or so.
Minerva felt pressure being applied just inside each side of her hips, and at a point right below her solar plexus. The increase in arousal was slow as the level of pressure was carefully adjusted by Hermione, based on the way Minerva's body was speaking to her captor, against the wishes of the Scottish witch's pride. Again, she struggled against the ties, even harder as she realized that the struggle created friction that may be able to provide her with relief.
"Oh, no you don't," Hermione chastised, altering the spell that had bound her initially and forcing her legs apart before binding them again. Minerva's effort to kick Hermione while this adjustment was being made was rewarding with a hard slap against her arse, which had only served to make Minerva go limp for a few, brief seconds, as the impact shot a strong wave of arousal through her.
Regardless of her legs being parted now, Minerva's arousal continued to build, and she began to have hope again that she'd reach orgasm soon. Unfortunately, Hermione noticed the subtle thrusting of Minerva's hips and the increased speed of her breathing, and with a hurried flick of her wand, all of the applied charms deactivated at once, and Minerva broke.
A whimper escaped her lips, loud and clear through the necktie in her mouth, and her head hung as her body shivered as the waves of arousal slowly rippled out of her stomach. Hermione approached, standing tall and proud. Her fingers toyed with Minerva's now hyper-sensitive nipples, eliciting a series of muffled gasps from the older witch. Then, Hermione took hold of the backside of the gag and forced Minerva to look at her.
"I know you want to come," she said sternly. "You body is screaming to climax. I am going to remove this gag now, but for each informal addressment, and each expression of dominance, I will bring you to the edge again and then stop, before we begin again. You will call me Professor. You will beg for release. You will submit!"
Minerva whimpered again, seeing the look of resolve in the eyes of her protegé and knowing for certain that Hermione was willing and capable to keep her here for days if that's what it took.
"Am I clear?" the younger witch demanded to know, pulling hard against gag and hair alike.
Minerva breathed heavily through her nose, sighing in resignation. Hermione removed the gag, and slapped her cheek again, this time probably leaving a mark against pale skin without the thick fabric there to soften the blow.
"That was a question, Miss McGonagall!"
"Yes...Professor," Minerva croaked, voice weak and shaky.
The charms for vibration and pressure began to re-engage, one by one at Hermione's whim over the next twenty minutes, as the younger witch turned her attention more toward the inside of Minerva's thighs, kissing the skin but never quite high enough to touch the one place Minerva needed to be touched.
"Touch me, Hermione, goddamnit!" the Headmistress finally pleaded angrily.
And just like that, the charms were gone again, as was Hermione's touch. "Tsk, tsk," she said mournfully. "Look what you've done, Miss McGonagall. We'll have to start all over again now. You of all people should know that the last place to show disrespect to a teacher is during detention."
"Nooo..." Minerva moaned, all pride stripped away. "Please, please… let me come."
The charms began again, one after another. Hermione stood and put her hands on Minerva's breasts, kneading them first, and then pinching on the by now tender nipples as she bit down on her mentor's pulse point. Obviously, she was intent on adding to the arousal at the same time as she was marking per property.
"Begging will help you reach your goal," Hermione taunted, whispered words sending shivers through Minerva's entire body. "Disrespect will delay you. I know you're an intelligent witch, Miss McGonagall. You are more than capable of following directions, and learning your place."
Minerva swallowed hard as Hermione's fingers ghosted down her stomach and weaved through the neat patch of dark curls adorning the apex of her thighs. "Y-yes, Pr-professor," she panted, a thrill coming over her as she realized that the idea of Hermione being able to force her into submission was utterly intoxicating. Anger gone, all that was left was a desperate need for the Potions Mistress to finish the job she'd started.
Defeat was complete, and that was that, Minerva knew. She was powerless against this woman, and somehow she knew that this would apply tomorrow just as it did today, and outside of this room just as it did inside it. "Please, Professor," she begged weakly. "Touch me. Make me come."
The charms grew in intensity, and Hermione's fingers thrust downward and immediately began rubbing slow circles around Minerva's clit. "Oh, you are soooo wet," Hermione purred happily.
"Oh, gods!" Minerva screamed as her release grew closer and closer.
"Merlin, I've got to taste this," Hermione muttered, kneeling quickly and replacing fingers with her tongue.
It was only another minute before all reason left Minerva, mind lost to the building arousal. "Oh… my… oh… oh, oh, oh… so close…"
A strong thrust of Hermione's fingers, and it was over. Minerva came hard, screaming, with tears cascading down her cheeks in sweet release, and the pain in her wrist and ankles per her struggle against her bindings ceased to matter as she limply endured the crashing wave.
Then, the Headmistress of Hogwarts closed her eyes and let unconsciousness take her.
"Well, damn!" Hermione grinned, quite proud of herself as she stared at her conquest, who had passed out in the wake of a very strong orgasm. With a gentle smile, she canceled all the charms she'd placed on Minerva, including the ones binding her to the cross, then levitated her to the bedroom and placed the spent witch on the cool, clean sheets.
And then she waited, still naked and turned on like never before. She waited for Minerva to wake, so she could see if the submission would hold. Even if it didn't, Hermione couldn't bring herself to mind. There was something between them now that neither of them was going to forget, and even if Minerva turned right around and reasserted herself as the dom between the two of them, Hermione found herself at peace with that notion. She could be Minerva's sub, because she'd always know beyond any doubt that Minerva could always be brought down at Hermione's whim. If it happened once, it could certainly happen again.
The older witch stirred after about half an hour, blinking as her gaze shifted the Potions Mistress' way. Hermione quickly moved forward on the bed, straddling the older woman's head and dipping her own drenched core against Minerva's face. "Your move," she offered, reaching behind her and placing the older witch's wand in her hand. Minerva's power was now returned to her. The question was if she'd take it.
"Sweet Merlin," the older woman realized, eyebrows furrowing. "You're a bloody switch!"
Hermione simply nodded in confirmation, and then moved to rub her aching clit against Minerva's open mouth. With an excited moan, a tongue flicked out and began eagerly licking. After a few minutes of Hermione fucking the Headmistress' face, two strong arms reached up and tossed her off, and then Minerva wrenched herself to the opposite side of the bed and raised her wand. "Evocoflagella!"
A small whip appeared in her free hand, and she raced around the bed and reared on Hermione, smacking her arse hard with the device. "I may not have energy at the present for the kind of play you just pulled, Miss Granger, but I sure as hell am not leaving this room until you have relearned your place - until you have submitted," she growled.
"Will you respect me in the morning?" Hermione cheekily asked, trying not to show her worry that this turn of events would change things between them outside this room in a negative manner.
Minerva rolled her eyes, and whipped the younger witch's arse again. The wince of pain was contrasted by the look of thrill in her chocolate eyes, and the Headmistress paused the game and honestly replied. "Hermione, I will respect you more in the morning, and every day after, than I ever have before. Do you understand what you've just done? I've never subbed, for anyone. Don't think you're the first to try. A part of me has always hoped to find someone who could master me, but didn't need to master me all the time. For Merlin's sake I've been waiting my entire life for someone like you!"
"Please, Mistress, tell me what you want me to do," Hermione requested, anxious to get on with her own release. Gods knew she needed it badly by now.
"On your back," Minerva commanded, pointing at the center of the bed.
"Yes, Mistress," the younger witch cooed.
"Restringo! Restringo!"
Hermione's wrists magically tethered to the headboard, one arm pulled to the left post, and the other to the right. She playfully kicked at the stoic Headmistress with her still free feet, silently asking what rules were in play now, and what would happen if she broke them. "What now, Mistress?"
"I am going to fuck you blind, and dominate you in the most carnal way possible," Minerva informed her. "Fight against me all you like, Miss Granger, but know I am stronger than you and I will be having my way with you. Spissamentum trigintocto."
A plug, thirty-eight millimeters in diameter, was transfigured out of a hairbrush Hermione had left on her bedside table this morning. She spread her legs wide, inviting, and Minerva wasted no time sliding the device into her soaking wet core and casting the additional spell to make it vibrate. The older woman watched with interest as Hermione's breathing began to grow heavy. "Oh gods…" she muttered. "More… please Mistress…"
"Sexemutatio," Minerva cast on herself, mutating her clit into a longer, thicker version of that particular bit of her anatomy, easily twenty millimeters greater in diameter than the plug.
The wince at the transfiguration on the older woman's body caught Hermione's attention, and the implication of both a plug and a spelled cock on Minerva's body sank in. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, and delight. She could check double penetration off her fantasy wish list. "Take me," she pleaded, hungerly eying her lover. "Make me yours, Mistress."
Minerva pulled the plug out of one hole, and slowly slid it into the tighter one. Hermione squirmed at the intrusion, her body adjusting to the foreign object fairly quickly. "Oh, wow…" she muttered. "Min, this is…"
Her verbal affirmation of pleasure was abruptly cut off when the whip in Minerva's hand slapped against her stomach sharply. "Submit!" the older woman said harshly, anger blazing on her face as she rubbed her pseudo-cock, stimulating a full erection. To drive the point home she cast the collambo charm - which created a targeted sensation of being sucked - on both of Hermione's tits, as well as on her clit. As an afterthought, she also cast it on her transfigured and currently half hard cock.
"Oh, fuck!" Hermione yelped. Her breasts were hypersensitive. They always had been, and the sensation of her nipples being sucked on was more arousing than even the vibrating plug in her arse. Not that the plug wasn't highly stimulating on it's own.
Minerva was moaning now, the collambo making quick work of getting her ready to inflict the ultimate dominance. After a few more minutes, both woman breathing fast and rearing for orgasm, the older witch canceled the charm on her now very hard cock, and lightened the intensity on three placed on Hermione to prevent her from coming for the time being.
"Miss Granger," the Headmistress said quietly as each of their breathing calmed down a bit. "Do you want to come?"
"Yeessss…" Hermione whimpered, lithe, sweat covered body twitching under the influence of the various vibrations. "Yes, Mistress. Please…"
"Then fight me, little lioness," her former Head of House ordered. "Use your legs and fight me, and I will fuck you fast, hard, and thoroughly. Then, I think you'll know the power I have over you. Do you need a safeword?"
Hermione trusted Minerva implicitly. "No," she whispered.
For a moment, they simply stared at one another, Hermione quickly developing a strategy which would achieve Minerva's desire to force submission, and Hermione's own desire to meet her growing need for release. Then, she started kicking, and struggling against the ropes that bound her arms. She screamed in mock protest and Minerva ripped her fingernails into the skin of Hermione's thighs, forcing them apart so that she could sink her substantial length inside of her lover.
She fucked Hermione hard and fast, she just like she'd promised, and after a few minutes Hermione gave up the pretense of fighting it and Minerva didn't seem to care. Each woman was lost in their own pleasure now, fully consenting and embracing the coupling.
"Min… when can I…" Hermione panted, knowing how so very close she was to crashing over the edge.
"Close…" Minerva grunted, slowing her movements as her own, second orgasm began to take shape. "So… close... NOW!"
A final thrust and they both screamed in relief, drowning in the sensation with no thought beyond this erotic moment. After a minute, Minerva pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside Hermione, falling back asleep almost at once. Later, they'd do the aftercare, and discuss where to go from here. As Hermione pulled a sheet over both of them, a smile played on her lips, realizing that the Headmistress had been onto something. Perhaps she had unknowingly been waiting for Minerva all of her life, as Minerva had been seeking someone like her.
Time, and very likely further games, would tell.
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