Chapter 3
Making A Mark
Many things about what she had just experienced were eye-opening to Hermione. The most obvious was a much more intimate understanding of what being a slave truly meant. And a more intimate understanding of her mother, she thought with a light blush. Hermione had always felt compelled to excel however, and part of excelling was being proper.
She had not truly understood how tiring it was to be 'Little Miss Perfect' all the time until just now, when her mother had so thoroughly degraded her. It had been humiliating, and debasing, and dehumanizing. And she had loved it.
It was a queer sort of freedom that she felt. Not the kind of freedom where she could do anything she pleased, but the kind where she no longer was beholden to the rules of etiquette and decorum.
No one expects a slut to be proper, Hermione thought with a grin.
From that one experience she was fairly certain that she enjoyed the feeling, and that was why being degraded and humiliated had thrilled her so much. Hermione being Hermione though, she didn't do anything half-way, and had already looked into many of these aspects before. Intellectually she had thought that perhaps she might enjoy this kind of humiliation, but it didn't necessarily go hand-in-hand with submission. Now she knew.
She had never experienced pleasure that strong.
Hermione thought back to some of the behaviors her mother had exhibited. She had been somewhat surprised at how aroused another woman had been able to make her, and she supposed after considering it for a few moments that this probably meant she was attracted to women sexually as well as men. This realization didn't bother her at all, as her parents had never expressed any kind of prejudice against that kind of thing, but it did surprise her. Mostly in the way that it was something true about herself that she had never considered or realized before.
She wondered for another few moments what other things were true about herself that she hadn't considered yet.
Focusing back on her experience however, she tried to catalog what other things she had learned.
Hesitation will be punished, she thought to herself with a grimace. As well as that I'm a slut.
"I'm a slut," Hermione tried out with her voice. It felt different somehow, saying it under her breath when her mother wasn't around, like she was speaking a truth out into the world that would come back to her and change reality. Could she really change things about her through simple repetition verbally?
Well yes, of course. There's been numerous studies into conditioning and learned behaviors through repetition, particularly things like chants, prayers, and so on.
Hermione glanced at her clock and her eyes widened. She'd been up here pondering for almost ten minutes since her mother had left!
Throwing on her t-shirt and shorts once more, she rushed down the stairs, realizing all over again that her face was covered in her mother's juices as the breeze created by her mad dash caused a cooling sensation over her face.
Going in to the kitchen she saw her parents sitting at the table with their food, waiting. Her father looked bored, giving her a small smile, however her mother looked annoyed.
"What took so long, slut?" Elizabeth asked.
"I…" Hermione didn't know exactly how to explain the delay. "I'm sorry." A moment passed and Hermione's eyes widened. "Mistress! I'm sorry, Mistress!"
Elizabeth picked up the third plate that was clearly intended for her and set it on the floor.
"Hesitation will be punished," her mother said in a sing-song voice. "On all fours, now." Hermione dropped to her hands and knees instantly. "Crawl to the plate. You may not use your hands to eat."
Hermione crawled forward, her face burning all over again. Of course her father knew what was happening, but this was the first time she had been so humiliated directly in front of him. He watched her approach from his chair, the same small smile on his face.
"I love the make-up you're wearing," Michael said with a chuckle. "It gives you a… health shine."
Hermione's face burned brighter and she bent forward, occupying herself with trying to eat her dinner and not make too large a mess. As if reading her mind, Elizabeth spoke up.
"Anything that gets on the floor you're licking clean, slut."
"Yes, Mistress."
Being exceedingly careful, Hermione ended up eating rather slowly, but that didn't seem to bother either of her parents as they talked with each other.
"So, what have you found so far, pet?" Michael asked.
"Slut gets off on being humiliated and degraded, that much is obvious," Elizabeth answered as they ate. Hermione didn't look up at them, her face still burning. "Fairly certain she swings both ways too since she was drinking my juices like water in a desert."
Hermione nearly choked on the food in her mouth and she could feel the gaze of both her parents turn at the noise.
"She really is a humiliation slut though," Elizabeth continued. Hermione could tell from the sound that her mother was saying it while looking at her. "She's probably getting wet right now just from listening to us talk about it."
Hermione froze for a second, moving her focus to her body. Merlin, she was! Part of it was surely that plug, which she had gotten so used to that it was no longer affecting her motion. Though it was clearly still affecting her body in other ways, as she now realized the background stimulation it had been providing was keeping her at a baseline level of horny. But there was no denying that her body was responding to the humiliation she was experiencing right now.
Michael chuckled after they watched Hermione's reaction to the statement.
"Yes, I think you're right, pet. Interesting." She heard her parents turn toward each other again and continue their conversation over dinner. "How do you think Harry fits in with that though? He's the one that she's really being trained for, you know. Will he be able to give her what she needs?"
Hermione listened as a brief silence fell over the room, each of them finishing a bite of food. She heard her mother turn once more.
"Slut, after you swallow that bite, look up and answer some questions."
Hermione hurried to chew and swallow the bite she'd been working on, looking up at her mother's amused eyes.
"Slut, hesitation while eating is not punished," Elizabeth said softly. "Submitting is something you do, something you choose, because you enjoy it and it fulfills you. It satisfies a need inside you. You should never endanger yourself needlessly, even as a slave. Next time chew properly and take your time while eating."
"Yes, Mistress," Hermione replied with some relief. They were still her parents, and still cared about her, although she supposed that shouldn't have really been a question.
"Good," Elizabeth continued. "Now, you know Harry fairly well?"
"Yes, Mistress," Hermione replied promptly.
"Do you think that he will be able to give you these kinds of things?"
Hermione thought about her answer carefully.
"I think… I think that he's capable of doing so. I think he would probably even enjoy doing so. But I doubt he would know how to, or have the imagination to think of… some of the things that you have." Hermione gave a small smile. "He's a very intuitive and intelligent person, but he doesn't have a lot of life experiences to draw on for that intuition or intelligence, and it sometimes limits his creativity. I also think it's very likely he wouldn't have ever thought about… this kind of arrangement. He might be scared of enjoying it, to be honest. But I very much think he should.
"There's so much in his life that is outside of his control, and so much of his suffering and stress originates out of that. I think that once he understands I'll trust him to be in control unconditionally, it will lift a weight off his shoulders that he doesn't even realize he's carrying."
Both of her parents looked thoughtful at this reply, glancing at each other.
"What part of the country does he live in?" Michael asked after a few moments.
"Little Whinging, in Surrey," she replied. A few more moments passed before Elizabeth motioned towards her plate.
"Go ahead and finish your dinner, slut."
The rest of dinner passed in a relaxed manner, and her parents moved on to other topics, discussing their dental practice, the next time they needed to head to the market, and other mundane conversations that married couples often have over a good meal on a weekday. When Hermione finally felt she was finished with dinner she looked up at her mother and opened her mouth, before closing it again and furrowing her brow.
She probably wasn't exactly allowed to speak right now, especially to interrupt her parents. But then, what was she supposed to do?
Her dilemma was short-lived however, as only moments later Elizabeth glanced over and Hermione caught her eye.
"Are you finished with dinner slut?" she asked in a kind voice.
"Yes, Mistress," Hermione answered. Elizabeth got off her chair before kneeling down. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized her mother was still wearing the skirt without panties, and as such Hermione had a perfect view of her mother's most private areas. She realized quickly that her mother must be doing this on purpose, giving her a show, because her legs were unnecessarily spread. Hermione glanced at her father, his words coming back to her.
He said "I am always in charge". That she does everything at his direction. Maybe he's making her do this too?
"Let's see if you made a mess," Elizabeth said, picking up the plate. Hermione was relieved to see only a single piece of potato on the floor. "Eat it," her mother said harshly, pointing.
Hermione didn't hesitate, leaning forward and snatching the food into her mouth, chewing quickly. Her mother continued to point at the same spot.
"Lick it clean," she commanded. Again, Hermione immediately leaned forward and gave the floor several licks. "Good girl," Elizabeth told her, giving her another pat on the head. She was really starting to enjoy that warm fuzzy feeling.
"Go to your room, undress, and play with your cunt," Elizabeth told her. "Do not cum, and do not stop playing. I want you to drive yourself crazy until I get up there."
"Yes, Mistress," Hermione said, turning and starting to crawl away. Her mother started laughing.
"Good girl, following directions so well. You may walk there instead of crawl."
Hermione got to her feet and left the room.
Elizabeth sat back down in her seat and turned to Michael.
"What do you think, Master?" she asked.
"I think that Harry's living situation is probably less than ideal, pet," Michael replied with a concerned look on his face. "From the details we got while Hermione was confessing to all her lies, it seems likely he is neglected by his relatives, or perhaps suffers some amount of abuse." He sighed. "I actually agree with our girl that he'd probably benefit from having a willing, participating slave to own and control, and she seems to really love him, which is frankly terrifying to me."
"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed slowly. "It is somewhat startling the depth of feeling she seems to have for him, but she's always been mature for her age. I wonder if she realizes what she's feeling?"
"We can't allow her to submit to him in this way if she doesn't, she's not making an informed choice if that's the case," Michael reasoned. "If she's not making an informed choice, she's not actually consenting properly, and that sets everything up for disaster. On top of that, from what I gather this boy is likely to need both some direction on how to engage in this lifestyle and some form of male role model." Michael paused. "When Hermione was describing what happened this last year with the Sirius fellow, she implied that one of the reasons he was so important to Harry was that the boy didn't have anyone to connect to in that way, which makes all of this more difficult."
"It sure seems like a lot of hurdles to overcome," Elizabeth commented, "but then our little girl has never done things halfway."
Michael only hummed in response.
"Should we continue with what we were planning before? For her training?" Elizabeth asked gently. "The preparation? If we're not training and preparing her for him then we should probably adjust our plans."
Michael was quiet for a few moments before nodding his head.
"Yes, continue with what we were planning, pet. Tomorrow while I'm at the practice I'll start to look in to some of these things. At least for tonight and tomorrow morning we should press forward as we were thinking originally." A thoughtful looked crossed his face. "Although, with your observations of her affinity for humiliation and degradation, perhaps you could push even harder tomorrow morning." A mischievous smile spread across his features. "I have new instructions for your morning tomorrow, pet. Listen carefully."
Elizabeth sat up straight, the posture of decades of training moving her body automatically at his command.
Hermione was losing her mind, which a very distant and detached part of her knew would flabbergast her friends. She'd been in a state of torturous bliss for nearly half an hour now, having to very carefully direct her ministrations to maintain both of her Mistress' contradictory commands.
Don't stop playing, Hermione thought. Don't cum. PICK ONE!
She didn't even really notice the noises she was making as she continually brought herself to the edge and back over and over. She was so caught up in her work, such as it was, that she didn't notice her mother in the room until she spoke.
"Enjoying yourself slut?"
The sudden question startled Hermione so badly that she nearly fell over the edge into orgasm, which would have been a complete disaster right in front of her Mistress.
"Y-Yes… Mistress…" Hermione responded is a shaky, strained voice.
She opened her eyes and looked at her Mistress, her mother, and immediately noticed that her Mistress was sporting different apparel. Specifically, she was wearing a dildo in a strap-on harness that had to be at least six inches long. Hermione's eyes widened in shock.
Surely…
"Point that cunt towards me and then continue playing with your knees near your head," Elizabeth stated. With just a touch of worry, Hermione complied, reaching down and continuing to play circles on her clit as soon as she was repositioned. A few seconds later she felt the dildo pressed against her entrance, and her breath hitched, but it pushed no further.
Looking up at her Mistress' face confused, she tried to ask with her eyes what was happening. It seemed to work as her mother began to explain.
"I'm planning to break your hymen, slut. A good slut, a good slave, has no need for one. It's a hassle that just gets in the way of what Master wants." Elizabeth held still though, despite Hermione's anticipation. "Is that something you want to save for someone else? Does this cross a line?"
Hermione took several seconds to really bring herself back into the moment, but the question was one she honestly hadn't really thought about. Did she care?
"I… I don't th-think so, Mistress."
"That doesn't sound very sure to me, slut," Elizabeth said with a frown.
"It's…" Hermione frowned, slowing the circles on her clit slightly. "I-I think it would be just another th-thing that Harry-y would be confu-u-used about, or feel ina-adequate about." Elizabeth stared at her, clearly wanting more. "It d-doesn't matt-tter to me," Hermione said. "My v-virginity isn't-t my hymen… it's the f-first time I g-give myself to someone I l-love."
At this explanation, Elizabeth nodded.
"So then… you want your Mistress to stick this dildo inside that wet, tight cunt?"
"Y-Yesss… Mistressss…" Hermione said, anticipation and desire coloring her speech.
"Get yourself right up to the edge, slut. When you do, ask me to fuck you and push yourself over the edge. I'm going to break it while you are cumming."
Not exactly reassured, Hermione did as instructed, the trepidation building in her chest in equal measure to the orgasm building in her center. The process had been going on for so long though that it was less than a minute before Hermione felt it begin to happen. Shutting her eyes tight and tensing up, she felt the orgasm just begin to start.
"Fuck me, Mistress!" she shouted. The reaction was instant, and her Mistress' hips thrust forward as she fell over the edge, her vision blurring and her entire world going dim. Her senses retreated inward, as sensation became the only thing that defined her reality for a period of time. As she began to regain those senses, she slowly realized the her mother was still buried deep inside her cunt.
Panting, and still seeing spots in her vision, she looked at her mother's face, unaware of the goofy grin that her mother was seeing.
"I'm going to pull out," Elizabeth said slowly, knowing that her daughter was still recovering. "When I do, you're going to clean my cock with your mouth. There may be a little blood from the hymen, but it's not unsanitary or unsafe."
Hermione pondered for a moment how soft and nurturing her mother's voice was, which seemed quite at odds with the fact that her mother was deep inside her, filling her up in a way that was indescribable.
But Hermione felt her mother begin to pull out, and her brain jump-started back into action. As soon as it pulled out fully, she shifted her whole body forward and took the phallus into her mouth. This time she had been prompt in her actions more-so to stop herself from thinking about it than because she remembered the punishment for hesitation.
Elizabeth gave a pleased hum, directing Hermione on how to properly clean a cock as she went. Over the next few minutes, a surreal kind of bonding experience occurred for Hermione as her mother taught her this skill with the same kind of attention and affection that a mother might teach their daughter to cook.
Before Hermione had even realized it the dildo was clean, and she was pulled off by the hair gently.
"Good girl," Elizabeth said with the pat. Hermione beamed with pride. "Now, we are going to complete your punishment."
Punishment? What… Hermione's eyes widened. The lashes!
She winced involuntarily. Elizabeth chuckled at seeing the response.
"Yes, I'm sure this won't be pleasant, slut." Elizabeth reached down and began to remove the harness. "Since you were occupied, I placed a dildo on your desk when I walked in," she continued. "After your lashes, you will push the dildo in your cunt and go to bed. Try to keep it in, but don't worry if it pops out while you sleep. When you wake up just reinsert it. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress," Hermione replied, glancing at the desk. The dildo was the exact same size as the one that had been in the harness.
Elizabeth set the harness to the side and then pointed at the bed.
"On your stomach, ass towards me, legs two feet apart."
Hermione, still reeling from what had happened and what was about to, glanced at the desk again, then her mother, before turning over and getting into position. Elizabeth made a noise behind her, and seemed to pull something from a bag.
"Count them, slut. You'll be receiving 25 lashes. That's 20 for your punishment, and 5 for hesitating."
Hermione grimaced, realizing that she had indeed hesitated to get into position.
"Hesitation will be punished," Hermione parroted softly. She felt a pat of the back of her head.
"Good girl."
Without any further warning the sound of something being swung rang through the air and a long, strappy sort of device landed on her bare ass with devastating effect. The pain was so sudden, and so much worse than any kind of punishment she had received before, that she nearly fell off the bed.
Hermione was sure that the neighbors had heard the scream she'd let out. A few moments passed. Hermione heard another swing and her world erupted in stinging pain again. Her mother tsked behind her.
"The lashes start counting once you start counting them," Elizabeth said in a stern voice, swinging again.
Hermione yelped, before shouting "Three!"
Immediately the… belt? Whatever it was struck her again and her Mistress spoke.
"I knew you were a pathetic slut and dirty slut, but I didn't think you were a stupid slut. Since when do numbers start at three?"
Again the implement flew through the air and struck her.
"One!" Hermione cried out through the pain. Another strike. "Two!"
As she passed 15 in her count, Hermione realized that the sensations had changed. It hadn't become pleasurable, it was still quite the opposite. But her ass now felt like it was on fire even after being struck, and the strikes themselves didn't feel quite as sharp, as if she was becoming slightly numb, trading the impact for a more lasting kind of pain that seemed to sit in her skin like an infection.
By the time they got to 21 Hermione couldn't keep herself still, and was openly crying the kind of full, unabashed tears she hadn't since she was a small child.
After counting off the 25th strike, Hermione collapsed off the bed in a heap, twitching from the remembered sensations.
"Now," Elizabeth said softly. "Will you lie to us again slut?"
"NOOO!" Hermione wailed. Elizabeth sighed, reached down, and wrenched one of Hermione's nipples.
"No what slut?"
Hermione let out a fresh gasp.
"N-No… Mistress…"
Her sniffling was making it difficult to talk more than one word at a time. Her mother's stern face held for a few moments before it softened and she held out her arms to her shaking daughter.
"Come here, sweetie."
Hermione flung herself at her mother, muttering apologies over and over between gasped breaths. After twenty minutes in her mother's embrace, Hermione had calmed down to the point where she could think rationally again.
"Mot—Mistress?" Hermione asked, hoping she wouldn't be punished for her slip up. There was a slight pause.
"Yes slut?"
"Thank you."
Hermione felt her mother's arms tighten around her for a few more seconds before releasing her.
"Don't forget the dildo slut," Elizabeth whispered before grabbing the bag of supplies she'd brought into the room and walking out.
