Chapter 4
What You Were Meant To Be

Hermione awoke with a groan earlier than she was used to, but according to her alarm not quite as early as her parents. She lay there for several minutes, trying to not to move.

Her arms were sore from the exertions she went through yesterday; her ass was aching fiercely, and she knew that she would need to sit gingerly the entire day; to add to that her asshole was protesting loudly as well, having kept the plug in for the entire night; her nipples ached from being tweaked several times last night, the lesson to not hesitate certainly sinking in at this point; and even her cunt was hurting, feeling a bit raw and stretched.

Her eyes widened as she realized that the dildo had slipped out. Mistress had told her to put it back in when she woke up.

Reaching down she found the silicone cock and pressed against her entrance, but found herself far too dry to push it in comfortably. She started to move her hand to start playing with her clit and get herself wet, before she remembered what her dad had told her. She needed permission to touch.

My body is someone else's property now, I can't use it without permission.

At a loss for a moment she pulled the dildo up towards her chest and realized that she could still use her mouth to wet it. Pulling it up further she noticed the sticky and tacky remnants of her cunt coating parts of the dildo. But, then again, last night she'd had much more than just that in her mouth when she'd cleaned the other one off.

Pushing it past her lips she started to replay the lesson Mistress gave her last night on how to clean a cock, practicing once more on the dildo she needed to put back inside her. After a few minutes she felt it was properly cleaned and prepared, and reaching down spread her cunt lips apart, pushing the dildo in inch by inch.

The sensation of being so full in both holes was amazing, but also very foreign. She furrowed her brows in annoyance as she realized that the dildo was going to slip out as soon as she moved her hand away. How was she going to go downstairs? She cast about the room before deciding that she could keep it in using the shorts she wore last night if she were careful.

After a few minutes of careful work she was dressed and felt reasonably sure the dildo would survive the trip downstairs. She needed to find Mistress and ask her to remove the plug so that she could use the restroom. Walking towards her door, Hermione stopped after only a few paces, trying to adjust to the difficulty of walking in this situation. Every step she took send a minor jolt through her as both the plug and the dildo rubbed against her insides and each other in the most… stimulating ways.

Taking each step gingerly, and finding herself breathing heavy by the time she was at the bottom of the stairs, she spotted Mistress in the dining room.

"Good morning, slut," Elizabeth greeted her.

"Good morning, Mistress," Hermione replied, shifting again uncomfortably. "Can you please remove the plug Mistress? I need to use the restroom."

Elizabeth looked up at her daughter for a moment and then gestured to the empty table.

"On your back, then."

Hermione paused in surprise at the realization that Mistress was going to take it out right here only a few paces from the front door, and then cringed internally as she began to climb on the table, knowing what was going to happen. She had paused.

Once she was on her back, Mistress lifted her shirt, grabbed both nipples, one with each hand, and tweaked them hard.

"Hesitation will be punished," Mistress reminded her.

"Yes, Mistress," Hermione agreed, her voice low with discomfort.

"Lift your ass up," Elizabeth told her. Hermione complied quickly, and her mother reached for the hem. She must have noticed the odd pressure of the dildo against the shorts, because she used one hand to keep it in as the other removed the shorts. "Knees by your head."

Hermione pulled her knees back and held them with her hands, giving her mother perfect access to her holes. Elizabeth pulled the dildo out in one swift motion, causing Hermione to shudder in pleasure and surprise.

"Open your mouth wide," Elizabeth said. As soon as Hermione did, her Mistress shoved the slimy dildo into her mouth like it was a convenient holster while she needed both hands. Reaching towards Hermione's red and splotchy ass, Elizabeth slowly but surely pulled out the plug, setting it on a hand towel next to the girl.

After starting her shorts back up her legs, Elizabeth reached up and yanked the dildo out of Hermione's mouth, making sure to replace it exactly as it had been. A small moan escaped Hermione's mouth as it was shoved back in, and shortly after her shorts were back on.

"Go use the bathroom," Elizabeth said, pointing to the downstairs one. "Don't close the door, sluts don't get privacy."

Blushing furiously, Hermione quickly dismounted from the table and went to take care of her business. While leaving the door open felt just… wrong… it wasn't long before she was finished and returned to her mother in the dining room. While she'd been relieving herself Elizabeth had cleaned the plug and re-applied lube to it.

In a process much like the one she'd just experienced only in reverse, the plug was inserted once more, and Hermione climbed off the table, unsure of what came next. Her mother motioned to one of the chairs and sat down in the seat across from it.

"Before we get in to our day slut, we have to talk about something new that I'm sure you've read about before. Limits." Her mother's voice was very kind and soft, not at all the voice she had been using to command Hermione. "Every person who engages in this type of behavior has the right to set limits if they wish on particular activities or situations that they are not willing to endure. Some people do engage without any stated limits, and in those cases a safeword often works well. Are you familiar with what a safeword is slut?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good. You have no real experience in these types of activities, and because of that it's very likely that you don't know what you enjoy. Instead of using safewords, we are going to use conversation. When we are going to do something new I will always explain to you beforehand what it is that will happen. Once I have explained, if it crosses a limit of yours, you should tell me so." Elizabeth paused. "Limits are very tricky things. I would always encourage you to try something at least once if you're unsure, because there is a lot of truth to the idea that you won't know until you try. At the same time however, many submissives feel guilty about expressing a limit, and that's not okay either because it means that they aren't fully consenting to what's happening. Do you understand?"

Unlike the previous times she'd been asked if she understood by Elizabeth since she'd become Hermione's Mistress, this question was asked with an understanding tone instead of a demanding one.

"Yes, Mistress."

"I didn't explain this to you last night because the few things we did last night were so standard and mild, the introductory activities, that if you had a limit for them the lifestyle would probably simply not be for you at all, and that isn't what I saw in my daughter."

Hermione's heart fluttered at that. So much context surrounded that statement. Her mother had called her nothing but slut since last night, and being referred to as her daughter gave Hermione a comfort she hadn't realized she was missing that her parent could still be a mother when needed. Discussion about consent certainly qualified for that sort of conversation, she reasoned.

"All the same," Elizabeth continued, "I'll ask you now. Were any of your limits crossed last night?"

Hermione was silent for several seconds. Most of the things that had happened last night had been uncomfortable in at least one way, and the lashes had been excruciating, but… nothing had happened that had truly scared her, or repulsed her. She knew from her own research that for most people, limits weren't about what was uncomfortable, they were about what was intolerable, and she wouldn't describe anything from last night that way.

"No, Mistress."

The look of mild concern that had briefly graced Elizabeth's face washed away and a warm smile replaced it.

"Brilliant. Now again, different people treat limits differently. The most lax you are with your limits, the more potential you have for exciting experiences, but you also run the risk of having a truly negative experience. The more strict and conservative you are with your limits, the more likely you are to enjoy what happens at least a little, but the potential for how much you enjoy it is probably reduced.

"Now the only other thing I will say in regards to limits is how I treat my own. I do something that is very rare: I don't set any with your father. I trust him completely. It has led to some experiments that I truly detested, but even afterward I never set a limit. Instead I told him how it made me feel and trusted him to not make me endure those things again on a whim. Only a few times in the two decades we have been together has he had me do something that I had told him I felt this way about, and in each case there was a very specific purpose in doing so and I decided to trust his judgment and simply have a miserable night one more time.

"Sometimes that happens when you get as adventurous as we do, but what I really want, and always wanted, was to be fully and completely owned by your father. Nothing less would do. Those nights where we did something that I already knew I hated were always awful for me, and for a day or so I always felt some resentment, but in twenty years I've had less of them than I have fingers on my hands. For me, if I had said no to them, it would have destroyed the much larger dynamic of me being his utter and complete slave, and that is something that I absolutely desire with all my being."

Elizabeth looked at Hermione for a few moments, then looked away for a second as if searching for something before returning her gaze and finishing her explanation.

"How you set your limits is up to you, and you most certainly do not have to set them the way that I do. In fact, I don't think you should with me as your Mistress, because I am not going to be your partner for the rest of your life." She smirked slightly at that. "That kind of total power exchange isn't really viable in a situation that has an expiration date. But I want you to… try and find that Gryffindor courage, and if you can, give most things at least one try as long as they are safe and sane activities."

"Safe, sane, consensual," Hermione said softly, causing a brilliant grin to light up Elizabeth's face.

"I see you still remember the explanation we gave you several years ago in regards to submission."

Hermione nodded. This conversation about limits had made her much more comfortable with enjoying the things that were happening, and helped her better understand what things she still had control over.

Consent, Hermione thought. No matter what, I always have control over what I choose to consent to. Even with mum and dad, she consents to do things against her will consciously, things she would absolutely avoid.

"Mistress," Hermione started, a question beginning to form in her mind. "Why did you want to have this conversation now?"

"Ah," Elizabeth said, glancing away. "How did you react to the humiliation, degradation, and disgust elements last night slut?" She asked, a hint of the edge returning to her tone.

Hermione thought before answering. Collecting her full thoughts before answering was already a positive change that this lifestyle seemed to be training in to her.

"They made me very excited, and also ashamed in some ways, but then even the shame made me more excited. I don't quite understand it."

"I see," Elizabeth said with a smile. "That's not uncommon actually. Do you think you would have enjoyed going even further?"

Hermione thought to the things her mother had said to her, of eating from the floor, of cleaning the dildo that had been dirtied in her cunt with her mouth.

"Yes, Mistress," Hermione replied softly, a hint of her embarrassment returning.

"This morning we're going to do something that many people have a limit for, but it will help you understand how deeply you do or don't enjoy those aspects of submission. If you absolutely do not want to, we will skip this activity, but I want you to think carefully before you decide to set this as a limit, speaking as someone who only discovered my enjoyment for it after giving up on limits completely."

Hermione felt somewhat nervous at this preamble, but nodded for her mother to continue.

"In preparation for this activity I've made sure to have a full bladder, because we will be testing watersports. Are you familiar with what that is?"

Oh God, how could she admit to her mother that she knew what that was? Just knowing what it was at her age would reveal some things to the intelligent woman. Unable to form words she felt her face become more and more red and finally buried her face in her hands, nodding.

Was she really going to do this? She went over the conversation she'd just had with her mother about limits. This was… well, it was pretty heavy for morning number one she felt. All the same, she had so thoroughly enjoyed the humiliation, degradation, and disgust elements last night that even through her embarrassment she had to allow for the idea that she might enjoy it.

"Will…" Hermione squeaked before clearing her throat and starting over, face still in her hands. "Will this be… a… golden shower? Or… drinking… Mistress?"

A sharp laugh from her mother only furthered her emotional discomfort, and she looked up to see the look of purest amusement on her mother's face.

"We will try both," she replied simply.

"And… you've done this?" Hermione asked. "You enjoy this?"

Elizabeth's face lost most of its humor and her voice became much more hard.

"Yes I have tried it, and yes I enjoy it, and I will not allow my own dirty slut to kink-shame me over it." Elizabeth's features relaxed slightly. "If you want to place a limit on this you can do so without expressing disapproval for your mother and your Mistress' preferences."

"No!" Hermione shouted, her embarrassment evaporating. "No… Mistress. That isn't… that isn't what I meant. I don't disapprove, I just… needed to hear that if I do end up enjoying it… I won't be alone."

Elizabeth smiled.

"So then, you consent slut?"

Hermione paused one last time before steeling her resolve and nodding.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good girl," Elizabeth said with a pat. "Go up to the shower, strip off your clothes, and sit down in the tub. You may place the dildo in the sink while we do this since it will probably be too much of a hassle to deal with while squatting."

Hermione nodded and stood, heading for the stairs. Within a few minutes she was in the tub as instructed, waiting nervously. Would she enjoy this? Did it mean anything about her if she did?

The real question, she realized, was would she like the person that she was if it was something she enjoyed. It didn't hurt anyone, it wasn't something that would take away from any of the other things about her really… it would just be a new thing. A different thing to be sure, but a new one.

This is the thought she repeated to herself as she waited, because a part of her was pretty sure that she would at least enjoy it a little. She could think of very few things more degrading or humiliating or disgusting than what she was about to try, and those feelings had been what she enjoyed most about the previous evening.

Her attention snapped to the door as she heard her mother… no, her Mistress, approaching. When she entered she was fully nude, just like Hermione, and for a moment the younger woman had to admire the simple but elegant beauty that the woman before her possessed. She was somewhat envious of her Mistress' fuller breasts—tits, she corrected mentally—but everything about her seemed to fit together so perfectly into something Hermione aspired to be physically. Would she someday have this same simple beauty? She hoped so.

Elizabeth stepped into the tub and stood over Hermione, lining up her cunt with the younger girl's face.

"Open your mouth and close your eyes," she commanded, and Hermione did so. "I'm going to give you one mouthful and you must swallow it. I will hold the rest until you do. After you swallow, keep your mouth closed if that isn't for you while I give you a shower."

Hermione was about to respond in the affirmative when something hot, wet, and salty began to stream into her mouth. The flavor was… repulsive. But as the seconds ticked and her mouth became more full, she realized that was largely because of how salty it was. It actually seemed like slightly smelly warmed up saltwater. Which, granted, was disgusting enough on its own, but not quite the stomach turning flavor she had half expected.

Before she could think further she felt the stream cut.

"Swallow, slut."

She closed her mouth and did. Merlin, the feelings it caused.

Fuck, Hermione thought, her mind not filtering the language at all. I do like this. It is SO humiliating and degrading… and I love that.

Feeling the last gulp go down she opened her mouth again without too much thought and the stream started again, this time moving around. It splashed into her mouth, and across her nose and cheeks. It painted her tits, and ran down her stomach. This was just as humiliating and degrading, but in a slightly different way.

After several more seconds, the stream ended and Hermione swallowed what had splashed into her mouth the second time. She felt a pat on her head, and felt the pride swell within her.

"Take your morning shower and wash up, then come downstairs and we'll talk about what you think."

Hermione heard her Mistress step out of the tub, cross the room, and walk out the door, leaving it open. She sat there for several seconds, reveling in the warm and sticky feeling all over her body, then slowly stood up and began to wash off.


Hermione reached the bottom of the stairs feeling clean and accomplished. She'd been so anxious about doing this, what it would say about her and how she would react, but she'd done it. And she'd enjoyed it. And that was okay.

As she'd descended the stairs she'd realized that she might have just as easily not have enjoyed it, and that would also have been okay.

She went to the living room where her mother was sitting on the couch reading a book and sat down in the recliner next to her. Elizabeth looked up at Hermione with an encouraging expression.

"Well slut, tell me what your thoughts are."

Hermione couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her lips.

"I… enjoyed it, Mistress."

"I see," Elizabeth said smiling. "How so?"

"It was so degrading and humiliating and that… well, it got me going very much," she explained. "The taste was not pleasant, but in a way that was part of it. Like… like that's how dirty and how desperate of a slut I am, that I'm willing to endure something unpleasant as long as it's sufficiently humiliating to get me off."

"Good girl," Elizabeth said earnestly, too far away to give her the customary pat on the head as well. "That's because sluts think with their cunt." Elizabeth let out a short laugh at her own joke, and it even brought a grin to Hermione's face.

"Thank you, Mistress," Hermione said earnestly. "For being patient with me, and for helping me work my way through all of that."

"Of course," Elizabeth replied warmly. "That's why I get to do the thinking, and you get to be the filthy slut."

For some reason that phrasing really struck a chord inside Hermione, and tears began to well up in her eyes. That was it. That was all that was expected of her right now. No grades, no fights with Voldemort, no saving her friend's lives. Just be a slut. That's all. Nothing more.

It was so liberating.

"This will be part of your morning from now on then slut," Elizabeth said. "I'll empty my bladder then you'll curl up and empty your own. It'll help you start the day in the right mindset."

Hermione nodded, thinking that perhaps her mother was speaking from some experience at that.

"Now," Elizabeth said. "I think that's enough for now. Go upstairs and work on your summer homework. We'll move on to your next lesson after lunch."

"Yes, Mistress."

Hermione stood and walked towards her room, a relief and lightness to her that she hadn't ever had before.

Finally able to focus on her work, Hermione began to go through her assignments one after the other, the time seeming to fly by, until she heard her mother call up the stairs for lunch.

A few sandwiches and some rather casual mother-daughter conversation later, Hermione took advantage of a lull in the conversation to press forward.

"So, Mistress," she began, a large smile on her face, "what are your next instructions?"

Hermione swore that her mother's eyes started to get watery as she also smiled at the question.

"Do you think you've been a good slut?" Elizabeth asked lightly.

Hermione paused, taking a moment to decide that her Mistress was not asking a trick or rhetorical question, she genuinely wanted to know what Hermione thought.

"Yes, Mistress," Hermione replied with enthusiasm. "My cunt and ass are full, like a good slut; I've been getting better at not hesitating, like a good slut; and I helped my Mistress empty her bladder, like a good slut."

Elizabeth nodded.

"So you have. As a reward, this afternoon I'm going to teach you how to have the most powerful orgasm you can." She paused and thought for a moment. "Or at least, the most powerful orgasm that I can."

She reached into the supply bag next to her and pulled out a small, egg shaped device. Hermione instantly recognized it, a bit underwhelmed.

"The secret to the most powerful orgasm is just… vibrators?"

"No, slut," Elizabeth replied a bit harder, conveying that their roles were now in full effect. "The secret to the most powerful orgasm is edging. Take off all your clothes, take the dildo out of your cunt and put it in your mouth, then sit down on the recliner in the living room with your legs spread."

Hermione started to comply right away, realizing as she did so that this would give anyone with a clear look through the window a very interesting view.

Once Hermione was in place, Elizabeth handed her the egg and showed her where the switch was.

"The key to edging is to bring yourself to the edge of orgasm and then back away, that's how it gets its name. You did this for a short time last night, but you're not going to be allowed out of that chair today until you've been edging for three hours."

Hermione knew that if her mouth hadn't been filled with silicone cock she would have made quite the startled noise.

"Unlike last night, you are allowed to completely stop for short periods, but if I think you are being lazy about edging, you won't be allowed to cum until tomorrow. Do you understand?"

Hermione simply nodded, her eyes wide in abject fear.

Elizabeth nodded, then motioned for Hermione to begin. Turning on the vibrator to its lowest setting and placing it near her clit, Hermione knew within only a few minutes that this was going to be much more difficult mentally than the watersports had been.

This better be fucking worth it.

It took only 10 minutes for Hermione's awareness to shrink to almost nothing but the perverse cycle of pleasure and denial that her body was going through. Seconds and minutes seemed to interchange freely and time didn't appear to be following a regular flow any more. After some undetermined period of time, Hermione began to go in and out of lucidity, and every time she came back to herself she wondered if her Mistress had talked to her while she was… away.

At some point her Mistress had left the living room, probably working in the kitchen from the vague sounds she was processing, leaving her slut of a daughter to monopolize the space for her moans, her twitches, her whimpers, and her grunts of frustration. Knowing that she wasn't fully keeping track of her surroundings, she vaguely wondered in one of her lucid moments whether or not anyone had been fortunate enough to look through the window.

As that lucidity passed however, she found that she didn't really care, unless that person made themselves useful and came in their house to finish her off.

"…ut." A noise to her left. "Slut!" A hard sting across her face grabbed her focus as she realized that her Mistress had slapped her to get her attention.

"How much… more…?" she grunted.

"Enough time has passed." She watched as her Mistress reached down to the recliner below her ass and wiped her hand. It came back up glistening. Was that… her juices? Was she… sitting and writhing in a pool of her own need!?

Mistress reached up and wiped her wet hand off on Hermione's face before giving her a pat on the head that also let her wipe off the last of the juice.

"You're going to cum on my cock you little fucking whore," Elizabeth said, her tone diamond hard. She gestured towards her waist where Hermione only now realized the strap-on was once more positioned. "But not before you beg."

Hermione didn't hesitate for a moment.

"Please Mistress! PLEASE! Your filthy, pathetic slut needs to cum so badly." Elizabeth's eyebrows rose for a moment in surprise. Talking in the third person? She was so far gone that her speech was disassociating. "Slut isn't sure… how long she'll be able to make words…"

An expression of pure joy bloomed over Elizabeth. She grabbed Hermione's legs, lined up the dildo, and began absolutely pounding her daughter. Hermione completely lost control over her body at the sudden spike in sensation, the vibrator still pressed firmly against her clit, and it was mere seconds before Hermione simply exploded. The rushing sensation was unlike anything she'd ever felt before, and her cunt constricted in a way she wasn't familiar with, and then she briefly lost consciousness.

She learned from her Mistress later that she'd given a fierce scream of pure ecstasy and sprayed squirt all over as she came.

The lapse into unconsciousness was only for a few seconds, and when Hermione came back, she felt herself slowly sliding off the recliner, her muscles too unresponsive to properly fight the motion. As she slid she felt her entire backside go through the pool of her juices and get coated, which only made her more slick and easier to slide off.

She fell off the chair onto the floor, twitching uncontrollably, and as her awareness returned more and more she realized that her face hurt. She'd been smiling so widely that it was making her facial muscles ache.

About a minute later, Elizabeth finally spoke up.

"You made a mess, slut," she commented. Hermione looked up, a goofy expression still on her face without her control. Elizabeth motioned to the front of her body which was still dripping with Hermione's explosion. "Lick me clean."

Hermione responded to the command immediately, although it took her body a few tries to respond also.

Sticking out her tongue she ran it over her Mistress' body anywhere she saw the sweet, musky liquid that reminded her of happiness. After a while, she heard Mistress' voice again.

"You've finished cleaning me slut, now clean the floor."

Again Hermione responded immediately, this time with the agreement of her body. She was vaguely aware that Mistress was just standing there watching her, but that only made her feel more happy. After a few minutes, Mistress spoke again.

"Go upstairs, crawl into your bed, and go to sleep slut," Mistress commanded gently. "You've had a long day, and a large lunch. We'll just make you are large breakfast tomorrow morning after we take care of our bladders."

Hermione nodded dumbly, and vaguely wondered to herself if the thick, goofy expression on her face would ever go away. She wondered that right up until her head hit the pillow, and she lost consciousness again, this time for the rest of the night.


Michael glanced at the clock in his office and noted that it was just after lunch.

Liz should be starting Hermione on her edging session right about now, he thought. He'd cleared his afternoon appointments. Elizabeth had planned on setting Hermione up in the living room for her session today, which had lined up well. They had already planned on him staying late at work, but it wasn't because of dental appointments for once, and it wasn't because of his daughter. Instead it was a research project that only his standing as a medical professional allowed.

Strictly speaking, he thought, what I'm about to do isn't exactly… legal.

But it was the right thing to do, and that's what had always driven Michael.

Pulling up an application on his terminal, he began to type in commands. A lot of this stuff had become much easier when Windows 3.2 had been released last year, opening up the possibility to sift through a much larger number of files than would otherwise be reasonable.

Frustratingly, the promise of this new level of technology didn't deliver anything for several hours.

Have they just never taken Harry to any doctors? How is that possible?

Giving up on the computer route, Michael pulled up his phone and began to make calls to various facilities in the Surrey area. Some of the places he called had refused to answer his questions or release any information to him without an explanation that went beyond his own credentials. It was what they were supposed to do, and it was a good thing that's how they reacted, but it was frustrating for the mission he was trying to accomplish.

All I need is one medical file with his address.

As is always the case, he finally got results from the last place he contacted.

Of course it's the last place I contacted, he thought grumpily. Why would I keep looking if I've already found it?

The front office had been manned by an under-trained intern that probably wasn't paid enough. The clinic was one of the frighteningly cheap options that NHS ran, meant mainly to shuffle the poor through one door and out the other while convincing them that they didn't qualify for or didn't need treatment.

Thank you, Margret Thatcher, he thought with some disgust.

A few answered questions and the fax of Harry Potter's complete medical history on file there was appearing in his office. He'd been looking for something that listed the boys address, but as sheet after sheet came through his fax machine, Michael's focus shifted more and more to the medical information instead of the location of his target.

Well, change of plans then. I'm getting that boy out regardless of the question of his suitability to claim my daughter. Even as a Dom that had been practicing for over two decades, the reality that he'd just had the thought he did made him shudder. This whole thing is quite surreal. Hopefully Liz wore Hermione out, and we can plan out how to approach the Harry situation together this evening.

A thought entered his mind that perked up his attitude quite significantly.

Hmmm… if Hermione is out cold like I expect, then perhaps I'll have some time alone with my pet.