Chapter 6:

Notes:

I apologize for the ocean of time between updates, and I appreciate any feedback!

Chapter Text

One day Draco was escorting Granger part way to the quidditch pitch to a small wooded area where he liked to either get his dick sucked or fuck in the open air before quidditch matches and they ran into a few of his chums in their quidditch uniforms, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Gregory Goyle. The Slytherins greeted each other heartily and chatted. Draco held the bald mudblood to his chest, hands playing with her tits, giving them a firm, muscular, punishing groping as he and his mates exchanged a few word on the game and weekend plans. Hermione could not hold back moans as her already sore tits were manhandled.

"Fellows I'm a bit pent up. Do you mind?" Draco interrupted and gave a wink over his girlfriend's head to his mates.

"Not at all," Gregory Goyle chuckled. Theo Nott gestured indulgently with one hand. Blaise just smirked.

Suddenly she was naked with her chastened bits only obscured by the cruel pump Kreacher had fit over her clit and mons and lips. She was immediately ashamed of her sorry state before the group of tall, athletic, mostly handsome upperclass Slytherins as they laughed at her silly look and ribbed their friend for his odd taste. Draco promptly pulled the pump off her with a loud, humiliating schluuuurp revealing a puffy, red mound with an emblazoned flower copiously dripping and her prominent, sensitively bloated cherry-red clit in its shameful, deplorable bondage. There were playful gasps and more laughter.

Hermione hung her shiny bald head in shame, feeling just like a worthless mudblood fuckpig who pathetically volunteered for slavery to a former Deatheater who deformed her pussy and made her the slave to his elf more acutely then than ever before. Tears formed in her eyes, but she daren't not stick out her freaky, almost-finger-like nubbin towards her Master like she had been taught and thrust her pelvis obediently towards her Master, blushing furiously, as the Slytherins watched in reluctant wonder and lusty fascination at such exquisite subservience the clit-clipped schoolgirl fuckpig showed her Master.

No sooner had he disappeared her clothes then her clit cinch leash was in his hand as well, the weight and movement making her gasp and Draco was winding the chain around his arm a few loops.

"Aaargh!"

"No wonder the Malfoys have the reputation of meanest fuckpig owners. Have you been reading those medieval family chronicles again, Malfoy? Not even your father goes in for this extreme shit. Poor Granger. I can't imagine taking that much metal to such a pretty cunt." Blaise's critique was belied by a teasing tone, and an irrepressible quality of awe.

"Can she even cum with that on? What a well-dressed slave, Draco! Nice fix-up!" Theo laughed cruelly.

She was aloft and bent forward with frog legs from a spell and sinking onto her Master's cock from behind her as the Slytherin's continued their commentary.

"Oooumf!" she let out in shock and she suddenly jackhammered violently up and down Draco's enormous cock like a human fleshlight hands-free by invisible force while Draco jerked the leash around his arm. The friends watched impressed at Draco's showing off with the mudtoy arse flying up and down his colossal prick, her much smaller body being forced to disappear their large friend's freakish pole at an unbelievably rapid rate, with her legs bent and splayed wide underneath her and her tits and arms flailing, as she whirred on the Pureblood cock like a truly impressive toy.

Someone whistled, and Nott said, "Merlin, look at her take that thing!"

"Right proper submissive mudblood arse, Draco," Goyle agreed, mesmerized by the ridiculous, whirring mudblood.

Draco threw his head back momentarily indifferent to anything but the sensation of his obedient Gryffindor's warm little arse flying along on his cock.

It wasn't long until she was begging him toilet her cum, which further entertained her male audience, but the magic of the evil little cincher only tightened and the little bar even gave her terrible little stings and she mewled miserably and begged, more desperately despite how violently and rapidly she was being jammed up and down his pole, for just enough release from her cincher for the implosion of pressure in her tenderest button to be relieved in electrifying slave cum as he leaned against a tree he was standing near looking totally relaxed and unmoving, paying no mind to anything besides the sensations in his cock.

It was a difficult, emotional fuck for Hermione. It was the most ferociously Draco had used her arse with the intense spell when she was neither warmed up nor distracted by the mortal fear of death from falling. Her sobbing and begging were ignored and the pace intensified.

Worse still, it sunk in fluttering into and out of her conscious mind how dehumanizingly he was using her in front of his friends and her peers and somehow, maybe it was the lack of alcohol, made her feel so much more shame today.

The intimidating young men could all see that even the brightest witch of their age and famous war heroine Hermione Granger could be turned into just another lowly mudblood relief station for Pureblood cock. In fact, they could see how all of those extraordinary things about her made her use more satisfying. How could she throw away everything else about herself to become Draco Malfoy's personal mudblood fuckpig? It turned them all on immensely, and made them a little jealous, thinking of that big brain becoming taken up with and dedicated to servicing Malfoy's ugly monster of a cock. They had watched amused and admiring when Draco had proudly taken up with the mudblood extraordinaire and soon after being spotted carrying her books had her cueballed, signaling her complete slavery to his entire house in an old school manner while acting as her simple boyfriend to the rest of the school. Then they had witnessed her bizarre modifications at parties where she tenderly serviced her Master's huge dick. They were surprised to note that despite her dehumanized appearance and slutty public enjoyment of his dick Draco was protective of and attached to slave Hermione as well.

Now he was utilizing her like she was the sturdiest and most ridiculous of objects to please his cock, and they felt privileged to see this side of the unorthodox relationship as well.

Draco did not hide the contented little sighs or satisfied groans drawn out of him by the pleasure of his convenient fuckpig coming down rapidly on his cock and looked the very picture of contentedness to an almost dopey degree in contrast to the normally poised, princely malevolence vibe he most often carried.

The violence astounded, and the school chums watched in amazement at the incredible fortitude of Draco's mudblood's beaten arse as it whirred up and down on the tremendous pole with magically intensifying speed. She was screaming and her blurred face could nevertheless be discerned to be a slovenly, twisted mess of pain, tears, and lust, in stark contrast to her Slytherin Master's relaxed almost goofy smile.

By the time he pulled out of her arse pushing her off with one last satisfied grunt onto the ground with an obscene and shameful wet fart from her wrecked hole, Hermione was sobbing uncontrollably, incoherently still begging to be allowed to cum as she pathetically cried into the dirt her legs akimbo giving the Slytherins an excellent view of her shamefully distended, red, puffy, and, spewing beaten-up anus. Like a good girl, each man noted, she managed to keep her arse-up pose remarkably well even though she roughly hit the ground.

Hermione's humiliation at facing the Slytherins with her clownish rim after being used in the magical grip of her rowdy Master like a sturdy masturbation device filled her mind with soul-crushing, identity-demolishing shame acutely as her knees, arms, and face rang with the pain from impact with the ground and her cunt spasmed in frustration. Why couldn't he let her cum? She knew she'd feel better if he would just let her cum. Her pussy throbbed. It hurt so much! How was she supposed to stand this? She felt lost and alone, still passively showing off the arse Malfoy had just destroyed because she didn't want to face them.

The only previous times Draco had ever used the bond for levitation sex were when he took her out on his broom, often trussed up as the figurehead in bondage or dangling underneath the broom like a dangling pig over a fire. Draco started out blindfolding her or even hooding her but then only did so sometimes as he conditioned her not to rely on it to tolerate her fear of flying. He enjoyed the mental challenge and feeling of freedom from levitating the bound Hermione on his cock while flying high up in the air. Of course he sometimes didn't levitate her. Sometime she was tied to the broom in such a way that she could be mounted on his cock or comically mounted on the end of the broom handle. Sometimes though he simply held her on his broom, close, like they were any normal lovers. Even though any time aloft was terrifying to Hermione she still loved and found romantic their time together in the sky, her cumming wildly from hope and despair, him cumming like a wild bronco loose in the wilderness as he fucked a terrified slave trussed up like some luggage on his broom, high up, zipping through the air in total freedom and a feeling of mastery over the entire physical world. All those times he had mostly warmed her up in the levitation so she was out of her mind by the time she was violently flung up and down high up in the air on his cock or broom handle. Draco had felt triumphant in his prowess from successfully distracting her from her fear of heights so that he could turn her into his ecstatic masthead knob polisher in the open air.

The Slytherins looking on were impressed with the masochism of Draco's slave. Clearly from the looks of it, Draco's freakish Pureblood cock had been stretching the poor hole for awhile so it was impressively molded and conditioned for the massive appendage's regular use. It looked puffy and abnormal, but quite perfect for freakishly cursed Pureblood cock, they couldn't help from concluding. It was clearly made to take some brutal punishment. Invariably among the oldest, purest families there is a tradition of mammoth-large phalluses corrupted by fertility and virility curses and other spellwork embedded into the very lineage and heritage of the families, to offset the low birthrates among the them, and massive, temperamental, high-producing, high-maintenance cocks were passed down through the generations and are a part of elite Pureblood culture. These cocks necessitated frequent emptying and were quite burdensome. This no doubt led to the reputation of Slytherin men as a particularly lusty lot and the widespread use of chastity devices on the female Pureblood population by the older families.

The Gryffindor golden girl was just another masochistic mudblood ready to take abuse to relieve a Pureblood dick, the perfect convenience tool for a gentleman with a burdensome cock, and made them all imagine getting one of their own for a regular mount. It was an enormously appealing sight to the backed-up and privileged Slytherins to see a hole so well trained it submitted without a fuss to getting turned into hamburger meat to pleasure the very worst cursed monster of a cock among them, and the girl attached to the specialty Pureblood dick play-place crying with abandon even and making pathetic pleading noises and yet still had not struggled to get away, and now her accommodating, soft-looking, sagging-open arse issued chunky goop into a small pile on the ground and continued to drool like a slack, beaten-up mouth advertising what a wet, warm, easy-entry hole it was. With superb convenience, Draco could blast away in the accommodating hole to his heart's content, it seemed.

Hermione was burning from shame, despite all their prior exploits, to be exhibiting herself so humiliatingly to the Slytherin jocks. She was interrupted from her paralysis of shame when Draco tugged sharply on her leash causing the most pitiful, squealing cries from the tearful girl and prompting her to get in position up on her knees, pushing her silly-looking prominent, long, pierced, inflamed, and choked bud out offering it to her Master and opening her mouth for clean-up.

"That's it, princess, you're doing so well." Draco caressed her bald head as the head of his soiled cock butted into her mouth. "Take it all the way down... so good at swallowing. That's it. All the way down. That's a good girl... so sweet... ahhhhh! Suckle it there. Make me feel good with your tongue. Hum like I taught you!" Draco gave a few full pumps into and out of her mouth as he talked softly to his slave before shouting. "Ah, that's right! Sweet suckling pig!" Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on just feeling her throat milk out treat after treat from her Master's incredible dick, comforted by the strong familiar scent of his dick and private areas. She managed to make her mouth and even throat give the dick in her a soft, long sucks like it was her bottle even though it was lodged almost to the hilt down her throat causing her mouth and jaw to be stretched obscenely and ridiculously around it. Draco humped, helping her milk out all of the last of his load. She was careful to suck and coax out cum his prodigious cock produced after orgasm also.

Draco took his time post-orgasm in Hermione's face hole wanting all of his sperm to stay in the nice warm receptacle and then drawing out the sensual pleasure of withdrawing his ugly, massive, arm-length cock from the incredibly tight yet inhumanly accommodating confines of her throat. Without being told she dazedly fought to swallow the cum and saliva trying to escape her mouth while simultaneously vacuuming off all the fluid off his cock. However when the thick, fat, heavy cockhead dragged over her pharynx and uncorked her throat it proved to be too much for her and she she spewed a couple of adorable cum bubbles, causing Draco to chuckle, before she was able to recover enough to try to slurp it back in and continue her job with the prick in her mouth.

She was half-conscious when he finally retracted his snake from its wash basin.

"Ah, all clean," he said, admiring his pristine monster before putting it away.

When she glanced up she saw she was surrounded by big dicks and her clit leash was in Blaise's hand.

She wanted to disappear into the ground even as she was mesmerized by all the meat that surrounded her.

"That's right, greedy guts. I see that look. You don't have to hide it, slut. All this dick is for you. I am so generous I got you some more cock. These are your new special boyfriends. I want you to have a special relationship with them. I want you to show them what a sweet, loving girl you are as a slave, but just with your mouth," Draco instructed. "You get me so charged up before my games, like a muggle battery charger I fit my dick into to draw power. It gives me that edge. Wringing one out in you always leaves me brimming with energy and strength. I figured it would be extra special to share the advantage with the team, baby, and introduce you to some new boyfriends before our match against Gryffindor. Don't worry about me getting jealous. I know you mudbloods can't get enough cock. I

and in any case it makes me so hot thinking about you serving more cock for me. These are some of my closest friends and I wish to make your slave-mouth at their disposal to use. Show me how well you can please my friends like you are pleasing me. Show them how a slave loves with its mouth. You are my special slave, Hermione. I know you can give my jaded friends not just a place to relieve their pent up balls but also a tender, loving relationship that is largely missing from their lives. Now let your instincts take over. Open your mouth and get to know your first boyfriend. Don't worry, Blaise will guide you."

Hermione dutifully opened her mouth to the strange cock, cunt dripping wildly, while Zabini slowly guided her head with her leash wrapped around his hand.

"That's it, Hermione," her boyfriend coaxed, "You little slut. Say hello to your first new boyfriend. Show me how grateful you are for more cock." Draco stroked her hair while nudging her open mouth onto his friend's dick.

"You have a sweet mouth, Granger," Zabini praised gently. "Kiss it. Kiss my dick. Ah, good. It needs some of your good girl Gryffindor kisses. Ah sweet mouth, yes!" Blaise tugged her leash gently making her cry out breathily against his dick.

Hermione was humiliated being made to serve her Maser's chum but she was surprised by how gentle Blaise was with his large, strong hands. He kept stroking her hair and her face and softly humped his cockhead against her kissing lips. He continually murmured praise like he said, "That's it, little lion, you're such a good kisser...mmmmm such romantic kisses, good, ah...Malfoy's lion knows how to get cream..." and made lots of happy noises and petting her head, making her feel like a very good little cocksucker for the large-dicked quidditch player she serviced with tender kisses.

Blaise finally pumped one while looking into her eyes with an amused warmth, taking his dick away from her to cum on her face. He admired her cute expression messed up by cum and drool until he had completely covered it with his prodigious white slop, proud of the voluminous fountain he was displaying in front of his peers on his friend's slave girlfriend.

When he was done, Blaise bent down and and flicked her slave clitty, causing her once again to cry and beg as she had a slave cum like a jibbering idiot with little effort from the Pureblood senior and without noticing when the leash switched hands once again and she had to awkwardly scuttle on her knees blinded by the huge load on her face while Theo Nott tugged her over to him painfully by her prominent, burning, choked clit and the Purebloods laughed.

"No, that's not right, Granger. Isn't there something you want to say to Blaise? Don't forget your manners. And call him 'sir.' I want you you to be respectful and deferential to your other Pureblood boyfriends, especially when they are good enough to use your mouth discharge. Don't try to clean your face. Not until everyone is finished. You don't want your new lovers to think you are rude."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said humbly for Blaise wherever he was, unable to open her eyes with his gooey load still covering her face.

Blaise's voice behind her replied, "The pleasure was mine."

Then Theo's voice ordered, "Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

"I remember you used to annoy me in first year and I've never really liked you since. You've turned into a real looker though. Love the hair cut. This is going to be good. Tilt your head back."

Suddenly a warm, fragrant, bristly orb made contact with her mouth and she knew Theo was seating a ball in her mouth.

"Suck it."

Theo enjoyed making the irritating student lave and suck his balls, even having her nuzzle them. "You are a good girl, aren't you, Granger?" he relented. "I bet Malfoy's got the best-tended scrotum in the world." Moved by his praise, Hermione blushed and her worship became both more servile and bashfully romantic and she even started to give them little kisses.

WHACK!

A reverberating pain suddenly landed against her cheek, making her scream into the ball she kissed but not stupid enough to bite down.

"None of that, mudblood! Suck and slurp! Make it nasty! Oh yeah! Suck both my balls into your mouth... That's how a mudblood does it! Slurp them more! Nasty mudblood baldy ball bath." The muscular and intelligent Slytherin yanked his meat as he bounced on her face. Hermione was at once humiliated and spurred on by his meanness and completely surrendered to the dehumanizing depravity of being the "ball bath" to another huge-balled, massive dicked snobby Slytherin, hoovering his balls, vacuuming them, and jabbing and twisting her tongue against them taking cues from his grunts.

He, like Blaise, also pulled away to deliver his payload to her face directly, her humbly obscured face becoming even more anonymous.

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" Theo's stern voice broke her lusty servile daze.

"Thank you, sir."

"Over here, Granger." Goyle's gruff voice called from a little ways away.

She tentatively crawled toward him, reduced to a blind reactive beast, agonizingly dragging her clitty leash behind her.

"Do you mind if I try something less gentlemanly?"

"Go right ahead."

One moment Hermione was crawling toward the voice of the large crude young man and the next she was suddenly flipped onto her back over what she presumed was the large stump she knew had been in their proximity and her head was hanging over the side and odiferous leaking flesh pressed up against her mouth. Her mouth opened automatically and was immediately stuffed with strong-smelling cock and she received a violent skullfucking. Sudden, intense, but relatively quick. He too exited her accommodating mouth to let his hose off on her face.

The men enjoyed watching as Goyle dandled the end of the leash over her clit causing yet another violent. entertaining cum from the faceless mudblood pig that had once been Hermione Granger still spewing cum on the ground as her body spasmed in pleasure and her tits wobbled enticingly.

"Thank you, sir," Hermione garbled.

It somehow humiliated her more when her handler Master Kreacher appeared with nasty treats to feed her as a reward and no one acted like it was out of the ordinary as she ashamedly, enthusiastically ate the treats he shoved at her mouth, still blinded.

The four Slytherins each then splattered her with another nut, all of them were backed up, before at Draco's behest she kissed each cock goodbye and promised to see them later, addressing the cocks. Despite her better sense she felt confusedly romantic.

She seemed to have won over the Slytherins who all could not seem to resist petting her and murmuring praise for their friend's cum-blinded slave as she submissively made out with their cockheads one last time.

The men all commented as they made their way to the pitch in disbelief at the vim and vigor with which Draco's ability to share the energy derived from his slave through the sophisticatedly cultivated slave bond charged them with and Draco received many pats on the back. Not only did it give them an edge for quidditch and surely helped the cohesion of the team as well, but Draco was generously sharing his own girlfriend and incredibly-well-trained-for-his-cock slave as an outlet for his perpetually backed up cohorts as a regular outlet for relief. They admired his boldness and his showmanship and his complete mastery over the smartest girl of their age and war heroine and that he did not seem even once tempted to go easy on her just because she was a good girl, showed such obedience, deference, and humility, or showed such devotion and seemed to be the genuine article of a sweetheart. They had been bemused that their mate had appeared to be courting and enslaving the mudblood extraordinaire at the same time. Draco pulling out a chair for a girl he had clearly shorn, as was a trademark tradition inducting Malfoy fuckpigs, was quite the paradox. They would be jealous if Draco was not sharing her, but as it was it made them evaluate what they wanted in their own relationships now a bit differently.

Hermione wished she could rest after her ordeal but Kreacher, mindful of the various slave and modified livestock spells she had been subjected to, knew his Master's communal use of the slave bond had primed the fuckpig for an increased potential to develop hardiness and endurance which made this the perfect opportunity for a training session, so he made her do running circuits in restrictive bondage gear relentlessly as he sat comfortably saddled on her back whipping her so she stayed motivated.

Chapter 7:

Notes:

This is horrible. But also supposed to be kinda funny. In real life, please everyone treat people with respect.

Chapter Text

"Fuck that was beautiful, Granger! I'm so proud of you!" Draco exclaimed when he finally returned to his room after the celebration in the Slytherin common room to his girlfriend who was on all fours, hooded with her feed sack attached. "You're peerless in your dick service. Here, have five treats." He opened her feed sack to dump them in and patted her on her rubber-covered head. "You've earned them. You really showed them what a fuckpig I've trained. Gobble them up like the way I like now, baby. I want to get this dick down your throat. I could use a recharge already. And I want to be close to you and look down and see your face against my crotch... that's it, you're a right proper sleeve. In it goes. I love your cute little stifled chokes. That's real good, baby. You're my good little mudblood dick-truffle hunter. I want you to give into your instincts, prick piggy. Hnngh swallow it down. Keep going. I'm producing a lot of precum, aren't I, just thinking about what cock-pig you are now. You're a very good mudblood, Hermione. A very good mudblood. There. All ready for bed. Ok, we're going to slowly make our way onto the bed. Be careful I want to stay fully lodged...Perfect. Nestle, sleeve. I don't want any fuss while I'm enjoying my pleasant dreams from a dumb cock sock." He drew up the covers and immediately fell asleep, his half-hard and kicking cock keeping his sleeve from finding any deep rest for a long time, however in another sense it was strangely fulfilling for Hermione to constantly be suckling on the leaking cock in response to its movements and the quantity of its secretions. She both consciously and unconsciously serviced her Master as a cocksock to his rod, where he often liked his mammoth dong kept warm overnight, frequently giving the cock she was impaled on her best snuffles in an expression of her affection and gratitude, at first when she was awake and then even when she was unconscious. Draco found it utterly charming and couldn't imagine a good night's sleep most nights without his adorable, snuffling cocksock warm between his legs.

Hermione could not believe how openly loving and affectionate Draco had been all evening. He had gotten her a beautiful corsage. He waited on her and kissed her hands and cheek. He whirled her around the ballroom. He let her lead them around the room and gravitate to the Gryffindors for most of the evening with equanimity. He chatted to her friends and made sure to find ways to call her beautiful and compliment her throughout the night. He asked for her opinion and required her direction and generally just actively did his best to engage his smart girlfriend in front of his friends. She had on a gorgeous, silvery glittering gown he had had made for her and she felt like a princess.

She could almost forget the absolutely massive anal beads twisting up her innards that Kreacher had shoved up her arse before letting her dress. She had on the flimsiest lace g-string and had to concentrate not to expel the massive nastiness from her arse for all to see. It all seemed worth it when Draco saw her struggle over the course of the night and would tell her she was his good girl and pat her arse gently and comfortingly.

By the end of the night, she was begging to be allowed to shit her beads. It didn't help that he had been reluctant for them to leave the dance floor.

"I have a surprise for you."

She felt that mixture of excitement, lust, and dread.

Draco pushed her up against the wall in the hallways several times to make out with her as he led her out of the castle. He manifested her leash and held it taut and gave it gentle tugs when he did so and she breathily moaned and even begged for "more love-tuggings" as Draco smiled at her and continued teasingly escorting her out of the castle.

Despite her arousal. Hermione was filled with trepidation when she caught sight of the field of Slytherins and Kreacher's grinning face. Draco proudly led the Gryffindor golden girl on the chain coming out from under her bunching beautiful gown.

Her Master whispered in her ear, "It's a tradition for Pureblood men to gather after a formal occasion and debut or otherwise be entertained by their fuckpigs. Let's show them all I have the best."

Draco twirled her around and made out with her emphasizing the beautiful elegance of the mudpig whose pussy chain was wrapped around his arm. Then Draco lifted her dress off and she was just in her leashed clit bondage and g-string before the crowd of young men and Draco was handing off her leash so she could say hello to her special "boyfriends." She was passed off to each of her Slytherin "boyfriends"and boldly presented with a cock to take care of. Hermione Granger tried to make love to their cocks but her impatient boyfriends were more in a mood for face fucking to the delight of the crowd, who cheered with mean-spirited ribaldry. They watched with fascination the discomfort of the mudblood who still nevertheless kept tenderly worshiping her Master's chosen friends no matter how brusquely they skullfucked her, treating their nasty pricks with a gentle wonder that spoke to the crowd.

The leash was then passed back to Draco through many hands after Theo retracted his cock out of her spewing throat after unloading himself a second time.

Malfoy took out his cock holding it over her head like a sword and said, "Pig, do you take me to be your lawful owner and Master?"

She looked up at his cock with big beseeching eyes. "Yes, Master."

"To be a pig trained primarily to entertain your Master's cock?"

"Yes, Master."

"To take plenty of beatings to amuse your Master's cock?"

"Yes, Master."

"To give up your life, your dignity, your reputation, your self-respect, and your well-being for service to my cock?"

"Yes, Master."

"Let's not hold onto any illusions about it. You are a mudblood, part of an inferior race fit only to be slaves. Do you relinquish your rights as a human being to your Pureblood Master's slave for the rest of your life and be modified and trained to be the perfect fuckpig for your Master?"

"Yes, Master, please show this slave true happiness by transforming it into a perfect fuckpig. Mudbloods have no rights. Degrade me all you want, just please allow me to show you how inferior and servile I am by slaving for your magnificent Pureblood cock, Master. Please do whatever you wish to me that makes you hard, Master. This worthless mudblood will do anything and is so happy you broke this pig to cock, Master."

He mocked, "The great Hermione Granger is just a lowly mudblood semen toilet?"

"Yes, Master! Please, Master, give this mudblood is just a lowly semen toilet for big, Pureblood dick."

Malfoy smiled indulgently down at her and handed the leash to a waiting Kreacher, dismaying Hermione immensely, especially when she saw the garb he was holding, which caused her to cast her eyes over to Draco concernedly.

"Fours, pig!" screeched Kreacher as a sharp yank on her clit leash caused her to fold painfully and immediately onto the ground.

The crowd laughed.

Then familiar brusque, pinching hands were suiting her up. Her legs and arms were fit into restrictive but padded bondage made to look like ridiculous giant pig hooves. Then her titties were clamped with dangling weights on the teats and tied up at the base and at two more segments between base and nipple as part of a tit holster that went around her back. Kreacher fit and screwed down on about a third of her segmented titmeat a wooden vise quite tightly.

Next came a sequence of nosehooks, three on each side, tears ran down the ridiculous fuckpig's wide-nostrilled face at being seen in such staggeringly weird and obscene way by so many Slytherin young men.

She had almost felt romantic just moments ago when her leash was still in his hands and she was answering his degrading demands with her fervent promises of sacrifice, humility, and debasement. But now she felt just like a perverted clown or a geek at the fair with her inhuman handler..

Next Kreacher put in the dental dam and her tongue was attached to a short clip dangling from the entrance. Next he hooked a ridiculous looking metal corkscrew on the ring poking out of her ass.

She had never been so sore and restricted and humiliated! But her pussy was shamefully flooded and Kreacher caressed it mockingly with a long crop, calling everyone's attention to it, "Messy, despicable beast." Then he was upon her, beating her with the crop brutally, making her jump and contort and moan as he played his pain-pig expertly in a degrading dance while skillfully herding her in an entertaining spectacle across the field.

The men watched the fuckbeast flail and struggle in her ridiculous looking restrictions. Her elaborately trussed tits moving tortuously with the heavy dangling weights causing her stretched teats to swing back and forth violently whipping those naughty peaks violently around and her face was frozen in a bestial, inhuman mask, while her hooves clomped and corkscrew dangled preciously from her perky butt. There was something so sexy about seeing the former well-respected girl getting beat by a house elf in the most degrading bondage in such a humbling, humiliating display of depravity, turned into a beast of entertainment and even coming three times in excruciating orgasm for the contemptuous, ass-whacking elf.

Hermine moaned and cried lispingly. She was going to lose the immense anal beads up her ass, she tried to beg and explain, but her words were incomprehensible. Then Master Kreacher floated her up to a stone altar but manipulated her so only the prominent upward angled standing clit was on the slab. She was standing in the air with her clit resting on a stone slab, her leash laying over the slab and overhanging to pool on the ground.

"Hold it just like that, my pig," said Kreacher with feverish eyes picking up a mallet.

The men admired how submissively the slavepig offered up her freaky clit for punishment to the deranged elf.

WHAM! Wham, wham! WHAM! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham, wham, wham! WHAM!

Incredulously they watched as Hermione Granger, Malfoy's pain-pig screamed, sounding much like a shrieking pig to those who knew the sound, but even through the pain the masochistic mudblood came and came, convulsing like a whore with every one of the elf's cracks on her speared and bound, stuck-out red pinky of flesh. Seeing her ridiculous, pig-nosed, dental dammed face electrified with pain and her tortured tits swinging in their press was immensely entertaining.

With a nod from Draco, the mallet was passed off to her 'boyfriends' who were allowed to go to to town showing off their mastery of the masochistic fuckpig's body teasing her with their fingers or kisses as in between playing simplified whac-a-mole with her slave clit.

Both Blaise and Crabbe gave her sweet words of encouragement and praise in between strikes and it was the balm she needed to see her through the incredible ordeal, especially when the mallet began to get passed around to the rest of the guests after Draco generously offered them all a whack at his fuckpig's shameful, large, pierced and bound tender button. Hermione was especially humiliated by how many of her fellow students pressed their faces so close up to get a good look at her slave parts that she could feel their breath on her clit before they delivered their blow. It was an incredible experience to the rowdy young men to get to beat an attractive girl's purple beansprout, so pervertedly modified, and that it was a mudblood whose impure parts they were beating made it all feel right as well.

All the while Hermione tried pitifully to beg between strikes to have the too large beads taken out of her arse. That she couldn't hold it. That she felt like it was going to explode. That she would shit herself.

However the audience was not inclined to listen to her pleas with a sympathetic ear even had they understood, except Blaise who on his second round said, "I believe in you, beautiful. Hold it like the good girl we all know you are," he encouraged her, drawing the mallet high above his head and slamming it down.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiaeeii!"

"See? Such a good girl. I wish I had a girl trained up like this."

She drew strength from Blaise's words. He caressed her poor zinging bud tenderly while kissing her before the mallet was handed to the next man.

Draco was incredibly hard watching every partygoer hammer his prize fuckpig's silly, freakish, poor abused nubbin. It was beautiful sticking up on the chopping block, so helpless and shameful. It was clearly an appendage made to be punished and shamed properly by Pureblood men. Pound after pound after pound of the mallet and still the slightly bent, turgid thing stood back up after every hit to Draco's gratification and amazement. He had made that. He had turned the Gryffindor golden girl's clitoris into a perfect, sorry, indefatigable, big little button for Pureblood men to have fun punishing.

He loved showing off how successful he had been in turning Hermione Granger's clit into a punching bag for Pureblood men to express their aggression. He thanked his lucky stars that magic chose to give him Hermione Granger as a slave. He was proud he had a pig whose slave-bond was so far out of the league of any comparable relationship his fellows might have with a pig of their own that her slave clitty not only withstood the demolition of hundreds of strikes but the pig came and came from the pain, agonizingly as her bound and beaten bud of fat flesh was denied full and pleasant release by the incredible, tight metal ring. The young men were competitive each wanting to land the blow that fell the perverse pinky-like nubbin while enjoying the pure entertainment of seeing it courageously withstand annihilating punishment, standing back up every time to everyone's amusement, the slutty slave aroused by even this type of pain inflicted relentlessly.

Despite the arresting cums, Hermione was sobbing now desperately to be allowed to shit, screaming it was going to come out in incomprehensible anguish. Draco appeared before her and bid her keep it in a little longer and plugged her noisy mouth with his cock, taking his time showing them a one man demolition team and how well her small, tight body could take the entirety of his enormous cock. They watched the cock bulge in her throat and disappear into her chest cavity as the Slytherins looked on in awe and jealousy at the perfect, durable, warm sextoy their friend had created for himself, wishing they could take his place as he worked up to a wild, bucking pace with his massive cock reaming violently the skull it so visibly stuffed. Draco sure knew how to put on a show and he showed his closest peers how Hermione's ridiculous-looking, dental dammed, nosehooked face and bald head was his dick's personal spunky jungle gym.

The leash was handed back to the elf and the ridiculous pig painstakingly struggled to crawl up a ramp. The men all loving the brutally transformed bondage creature getting hit repeatedly on the arse by a merciless elf while moving like a real beast as he motivated her the entire way up onto an altar or small stage in her ridiculous, restrictive gear like she was a recalcitrant mule. The men enjoyed the abject expression of struggle and pain on the fuckpig's freakishly distorted drooling face and the way her ass dilated around a truly mammoth ball her anus was straining miserably not to expel with her need to shit.

On the slab, Master Kreacher gave fuckpig some painful kicks in her tied udders and arse before shouting, "Now, pig!" and giving her a swift kick in the special place on her stomach, which was the signal he had given her many a time in practice.

Melon-sized anal beads exploded from the humiliated Gryffindor's gaping bunghole, like she was a canon, swiftly followed by another explosion of green fireworks whizzing and streaming into the open sky, followed by the release of a hefty pile of turds that dropped onto the ground. Most of the Slytherins didn''t even notice the darkmarks and writing, such as "Gryffindors drool," that the fireworks exploded into. They were too busy watching the show out of the attractive mudblood's ruined arsehole to appreciate the irony of her arsehole painting the sky with such messages, though they noted them enough for it to contribute to their merriment.. Luckily, there was many a wizarding camera in attendance so the event could be further scrutinized later.

The men ate hors d'ouevres and drank discussing the foulness and depravity of the pig collapsed on the slab with her elf keeper using magic to shoot water up her open her arse like he was handling livestock. Draco received many pats on the back.

"Push it out, whore," Kreacher snarled as the Slytherins. Propped as she was in against the stone wall beside the entrance to the castle in a piledriver position. She felt a fistful of paper garbage cram its way into her arse and shrieked through the dental dam.

She cried. They were using her asshole as a garbage! She'd been placed at the entrance for convenience. She hadn't known what to think of it when some tissues had been carelessly stuffed into her ass, but then had come nasty cigar butts, chip wrappers, a couple squashed cans – each of them had something! She had not registered an offness at seeing the Purebloods drinking from muggle cans of beer until they all had more than one to crush and send up her ass, quite a few with plenty of beer left over in them sloshing around.

Hermione didn't know that this was a Pureblood gentleman's party game to make cleaning up like a muggle into fun by using a muggle or mudblood girl as their actual trash can. They were all charmed by Malfoy's obedient, masochistic Gryffindor can, easily admiring the considerable work that had been wrought on her defeated, expanded tunnel by Malfoy's dick, the gaping pink maw wide-open and ready for garbage.

Kreacher tamped the handle of the dirty broom straight down into the wide arsehole not unlike an enlarged mortar and pestle using his right hand while whacking her purple, bent-looking but still engorged, tiny finger clit and the Slytherins watched fascinated as the girl-can writhed and had contractions violently and sensually with her clit torment, appearing to aid the elf in his efforts to churn the trash in her arse like butter. She shrieked, screamed, and cried. She did see, looking up from the ground, the huge lumps in the mens' pants and became a little pleased despite the unnatural, degrading pain being delivered to her arse.

Blaise stepped on her face and she licked his boot desperately, the only way she knew how to ask for mercy. He poured a full beer down her hole before crushing and cramming it down her arse. Theo also got her begging tongue on his boot. He then lit and threw away several cigarettes down her hole. She whimpered and whined and felt heat deep within and then smelt smoke! and felt more intense heat as the sounds of masculine laughter and ribald humor met her anguished cries. But almost as soon as the trash in her arse had started to burn, it was out, and her arse was simply left with an even more intense foul odor of burning garbage, cigarettes, and beer emitting from its depths.

Kreacher tamped it down again.

Crabbe disposed of his pile of garbage and couldn't help himself from nudging and kicking her sensitive, bloating tummy with his boot, making Kreacher laugh and Hermione gasp and splutter in cramping pain.

"Time for plug, mudblood."

The Slytherins looked on with great amusement as the mean little elf held up a truly massive, radish-shaped buttplug that was about the size of Kreacher's head and went about the task of jamming it into her garbage overstuffed rear and Hermione bucked involuntarily and comically in her miserable, split-open condition as the elf heaved and shoved mightily, crushing the garbage in further. Hermione moaned like a depraved pig. Then a chastity belt was locked onto Hermione, effectively locking the mammoth assplug in place, and Draco had Hermione get up and jump up and down, shaking up the beer in her belly for everyone's amusement. The expressions on her face were very entertaining.

Chapter 8:

"Suck my dick, trash butt," Draco ordered sternly. It had quite gotten to his little slave, being used as a rubbish bin and having her arse stuffed with garbage by the fistful by every young man in Slytherin, which he couldn't let go to waste. The shame-tears from the near shameless pig on his dick made him hard like a rock. The girl with the kinky, garbage-enlarged belly crawled miserably between his legs and gave him an emotional, tearful yet heartfelt dick-suck that stole his breath away.

The afterparty would have been the end of a long night for a normal whore, but both Master and slave had far greater than normal endurance. The Master charged up by the bond to his slave pumping a steady dose of the most rarified magic mudblood masochism energy, their connection making him more powerful than before and growing more powerful as he developed the bond. The slave's endurance was of a completely different kind. Her slavery was like the crucible that made her stronger and compelled her magic to be reinforcing the changes her Masters made to her body, as it learned how to suffer more, withstand its punishments, make do with less human care, and even just become less, so there was less of her to suffer. Thus, the Master took and the slave gave and they both of them had grown incredible resilience.

"Wow, baby, how does all that cargo feel in your dumper?" Draco ridiculed jovially and pushed his hands feeling up her weird, bumpy stomach. He could feel hard irregular masses packed in there and thought the pained, mewling moan his prodding had ellicited from her mouth quite pleasant. He'd let her come out of most of her temporary bondage gear but still had the ludicrously large stopper stuffed up her arse, which he gave some sharp raps.

"It's nice, Master," Hermione managed, always wanting to be good, even as more tears fell and her poor tumultuous tummy cramped painfully a bit more and she didn't know how she'd last another minute.

"This is very nice indeed. It's hot to me. Now tell me how much you enjoyed serving as a mudblood garbage can for a crowd of superior Pureblood men. It sounded like Kreacher was beating a very wet pussy. Tell me about it."

"My pussy was really wet, Master. It hurt a lot and felt so strange, but sometimes briefly it was almost not so unpleasant. It was so stimulating! It was so much. My shameful bitch hole showed everyone how much I liked being their mudhole trash can, Master. I'm so ashamed! But, Master, it's so much! It's so much inside me! My belly is too heavy with all this trash! It's too heavy! There's too much! Please, Master! It hurts so bad! Will you even still be able to use me after I've been filled with all this garbage? It smells so bad now-"

"Hush, slave. You are too cute. Of course I'm going to still use that hole. I'm the one who made it so incredibly smelly and that is sexy to me. I can clean it easily when I want that. But you're going to hold all that trash, even if it's smelly and painful until after classes tomorrow. It is so out of this world incredible watching you walk around stuffed like that, like you can even pretend to be a human being like that. It's sexy. After classes, you're to go to the Battle of Hogwarts memorial where you'll finally be able to shit out that garbage in a neat magic trick. It's going to be really beautiful."

She shivered.

"Now tell me how all that garbage feels roiling around in your insides."

"It hurt so much, Master, inside and out. When I looked up from the floor and the huge tents sprung on the crowd of huge, clothed dicks and that I was so pleasing the men, it almost made it worth it in the excitement. But I don't know if I can stand it. I hate this feeling. I feel filthy. I don't like feeling this yucky inside. The trash is so painful, Master, I feel way too large!"

"You are filthy. You're a filthy, piece of shit mudblood who's filled with trash. That is who you are. It will not be the last time your dumper is going to get dragged around like a hilarious barge of garbage. Aren't you so excited to practice your new way of submitting, little pig? I loved seeing you take a fistful from all those men. You did such a good job. You really pleased a lot of Pureblood men tonight by becoming a trash can and letting them participate in the utter destruction of your worn-out arse, like a model mudblood."

"Thank you for ruining my arse, Master. I'm happy I could please the superior Pureblood men with my lowly arse dumpster," Hermione grovelled.

He started massaging her nipples. "Accept it. Let the garbage hurt you. Your arse just became a waste receptacle for a large group of men. It's an unnatural thing. But that's what you are, a pervertedly large, well-used hole for superior men to get rid of refuse, a special dumpster for the amusement of men. It would not be so amusing to the stuffers if it were at all comfortable for the stuffed pig, you understand? All that garbage jammed up inside a person or person-like thing could never be comfortable at all for the thing being stuffed up. Garbage isn't meant to go inside a person, that's why it's fine to put it in a mudblood and so funny. You understand? It's not all fucking and sucking, big-tummy pig. It is also about degrading yourself unimaginably for my pleasure and satisfaction and providing the best service to my associates and being an inspirational model pig. You'll probably never really understand how cool it is for a rich Pureblood wizard to be able to offer a famous mudblood and fellow student as a humourous mud dumpster to his friends. It's a traditional role. But none of them could offer such an entertaining trash receptacle. Not a good one. Not one that lasted any amount of time. We've been so creeped out by our fathers' generation of braindead, gray, zombie pig-parts that we went to hard in the direction of fucking and dumping good slavemeat, quantity over quality and brusque, brief trysts over formal servitude. I'm showing everyone it's possible to moderate and only take the best of the old ways into the modern world. A mudblood receptacle is a splendid bonding experience among mates, raises morale and feelings of fraternity, and shows off what a great slavemaster I am, don't you agree?"

Hermione could only nod. She felt like a giant insect with her thorax about to spew, but instead of the proliferation of her species, it was just body-crushing garbage weighing her down heavily. She could easily imagine how her embodiment as a muggle trash bin could appeal to the rowdy, nasty Pureblood men. It turned her on monumentally. Hermione Granger, human garbage.

"We rebelled against our fathers from getting us in that idiotic war as well. But there was always something to it and as adults we Pureblood men need to take resposibility for our perverse, cursed desires like adults who can command them and not worry about what our fathers did or didn't do before us. We should take what we want and rule the world. Let that garbage sink into every fiber of your being and feel it churn inside you, Hermione, over the next day. Churn, churn, churn. It pleases me so much you could perform the service of arse-dumpster and it's really a spledid arse-dumpster as I expected from acquiescent shitter. It is one of those traditions that might sound prosaic when it comes to one of the household slaves performing it but quickly comes to life for one when it is a pretty, mudblood schoolmate one knows with an obscene and shabby, beaten-up gape you get to fist garbage into. A tremendously fun activity for men from any house, I'm sure. You're doing some important work for your Master. Now arse-up, piledriver against that wall."

She watched worriedly folding into position as he suddenly had an old, gnarled, small tree trunk thick broom in his hands.

"There's some more stuff I want to get rid of in my mudblood arse-can. Merlin, it was funny watching you walk here, dumpster butt. I want to see you take a bit more for me. It's going to be so fun watching my living garbage bin uncomfortably waddle through classes tomorrow. " He stepped up to her.

"I'm grateful he could stop you up so good that fragrant mess inside of you is only lightly noticable, but there's no way around this," he said and took out the plug.

He used a magic to create a bubble that would keep her stink around her, spare him, and not spread into the room. "Repulsive! Disgusting mudpig! It smells like an elderly cat took a piss on a four day dead sailor up your arse, you pitiful trash butt. Look at you carry your reprehensible cargo. "

He held the thick, gnarly broom handle in his grip and lined it up to her arse holding it high above her and said, suddenly with anger in his voice, "I'm going to need to make a lot more room in this sewer!"

Pound! Tamp! Tamp! Pound! Pound! Pound!

It was so much different when her true Master and love Draco did it than that nasty Kreacher. Yes, it still hurt to an extreme degree that made her wonder if she were going to die. She could feel the garbage horriby stretching her insides, pounding into places it wasn't supposed to go, her burps had become horrendous, the painful compacting of garbage crunching inside against the force of the stick and the solid bones inside her made her feel as though her entire body could crack and crumple up. Her Master was compacting the garbage in his dumpster and though it was egregiously painful, but it also felt suspiciously right and like she wanted to do this too, have her insides pounded out to be a more efficient trash can for her Master. She wanted to be pounded into nothing by her Master if that was what he wanted and hoped he would continue to tease and humiliate her thoroughly with his words all along the way.

He tamped the garbage down with a broom handle.

"That's it, pig. Squeal for your Master. You're actually coming from your garbage compaction, you stupid trash-pig! Once you're a garbage can, you're always a garbage can!"

Draco and Hermione had a fun night.

Hermione ended up taking plenty of things such as old potions ingredients, like a jar of desiccated spiders, ratty quidditch gear, including a deflated bludger, a torn glove, and some kneepads, crumpled parchment, various novelty and prank items he was just looking for the excuse to clear out, contents in his icebox such as frozen grapes he no longer was interested in, and various other odds and ends. In between, he tamped the broom in her arsehole to make more space. Then he stoppered Hermione back up and made her sweep and clean his rooms. He admired his sweating, laboring beast so painstakingly move to tidy the space, seeing the uncomfortable cramps roiling inside her plain in the expressions on her face, her trudging gait, and occasional doubling over as he wondered at the kind of appropriate symmetry it was having a mudblood-dumpster can laboring to clean his rooms like the muggle way she was and having her own arse for the use of waste removal. Her sweating, hunched, naked body looked totally ridiculous getting her work done and like every creaky movement brought an odyssey of intense internal drama. Even more, her lower stomach and even her arse were bulging magnificently. It looked hilariously like she was carrying the biggest, nastiest dump in her arse and her bum had swelled up and she was carrying that extra arse like a diaper. It made him hard as rock. Then it was time to utilize her arse can to clean up the clean up.

As Draco relished pouring all the dust, grime, and debris that had been on his floor from the dust pan into Hermione's arse and the cavernous dumpster cavity inside, he thought about having the house elves stop cleaning his apartments altogether, instead of just these last few days, and getting to watch his humble mudblood trash can labor to clean in the beastly manner of a muggle all the time. He'd be sure to see her arse take all the dust, muck, and grime he would track in on his boots once a week, feeling proud thinking of filling his slave with such a shameful, perfect thing.

"Hold it and think about your purpose," he said restoppering her arsehole and rubbing her kinky belly affectionately. "Feel how full you are. That's just how you should feel. It's how I want you to feel."

"Here," he said, gesturing for her to come after he took out and opened a large leather valise from under his bed and held out a leather sack to her. "In the morning our bond should be adjusted so I can control your smell and how it affects others, but you're still somewhat rank and I don't wish to bed down with something that's mostly garbage. Don't worry the slavehood is enchanted so you should get plenty air with your sturdiness and it's really a soft, cosy leather in this case."

Hermione allowed her Pureblood Master to tie his leather sack over her head around her neck and help her into the case he shut up tight and locked and pushed back under his bed.

Hermione spent a large portion of the night contemplating the small, cramped bit of darkness she now inhabited, marinating in the pungent aroma of old, stewing garbage, every second more and more steeping into her pores, filling her lungs. She fell into an intense meditation wherein she concentrated herself on being what her beloved wanted and huffed the trash erotically and let herself feel its noxious effects in her body, trying to distract herself from the loneliness of being sealed off and put away.

Directly above her, Draco fell instantaneously asleep and had remarkably pleasant dreams about flowers growing in dumpsters and magical mudblood arses that he could command, even for it to submit to a more than forty arm anal trash-fisting in docile, handy, compact piledriver. The memory of his his pig taking fistful after fistful of trash from the most senior Slytherin class was mesmerizing and soothing even in his sleep. When he needed it later, it would serve him better than counting sheep.

The next day was a trial for Hermione. She dragged her enormous self around and moved in a way that repeatedly had her friends asking if something was wrong even though they couldn't see her body under her robes to see the incredible bulging of her slave body. She was grey, sluggishly moving, and seemed exhausted and strained. Her boyfriend, however, seemed not to notice and just kept lightly teasing her for being behind. He grabbed her playfully, swung her around, made out with her and did a little manhandling. He repeatedly got caught feeling up her stomach like one normally would feel up breasts.

Those who knew to watch carefully witnessed with raging boners how Malfoy treated his little trash receptacle girlfriend. He pushed into his poor thing's stomach repeatedly, casually, boldly. He piled her up with a large plate of food at breakfast and lunch and ordered her to eat. He pinched her tit or stomach and called her "dummy" in the back of class when she was too distracted from her distressing predicament to follow his instructions well or fast enough.

She hoped she could last. It would be so horrible if the entire school saw her explode into garbage. Still, she had never been more hot during school.

Blaise escorted her to a broom closet after breakfast. She got naked and let him feel her up and got into various poses for him and repeated some things he said. Poses like frog pose, cow pose, and dancing seated wheelbarrow. Phrases like, "Mmmm.Yeaaah. Push my trash-belly, feels so good when it's you, Master Blaise," "Please, Master Blaise, fill your mudblood even more! I want trash if it's yours," and "Please collect all your garbage and give it to me from now on. I'll never be complete without your garbage, Master Daddy." Blaise chuckled lightly.

Blaise was warmed up enough to start feeding her arse the trash he had collected for her in seated wheelbarrow. At first, she pleading with him that she couldn't stand one more scrap of garbage but he only rained down blows on her arse until hushed, Then he brusquely shoved it all up her, restoppered her, and had her suck his balls. Finally he came, pointing his cock to douse her tits. He wiped his cock on the mudblood's kinky belly, used her blouse to wipe the sweat from his brow, patted her swollen dumper, and went on his way. Blaise had a hell of a time strutting into class late so proud was he of the state he had left the young trash-receptacle and he only became even more proud when she never even managed to show up for class.

Draco let Goyle go find her as he could tell his friend was clubbed up from poor Granger not making it back to class and could use his own moment at the muggle waste disposal and relief station.

Goyle had never seen anything as beautiful as the busted garbage can he found in the dark broom closet. Granger cried curled up on the floor, in agony, holding her stomach like she was pregnant. She wasn't pregnant, she was filled with trash! Draco had turned his mudblood into a living garbage. He was quite the guy.

The little witch hadn't even cast a light for herself. She was just a creature waiting for him in the dark. It made him feel strange like he had never felt before. He still couldn't believe this was the great Hermione Granger who he now had so much control over.

He graciously picked up and cuddled the agonizing trash receptacle, rocked her, touched her soothingly, saying, "It's good it hurts so badly, little dump. It means you're being a very good good slave," and "You're pleasing the guys more than you know. You're so hot. You're making Purebloods realize how special mudbloods can be more than anyone else could. We're all jealous," and "Draco found the world's best cocksocket," and "You're so attractive, and good at your ballwork. I bet there's a lot of angry young men from the war, who won't be nearly so angry with a couple doses of your ballwork. It's special stuff. You're a special pig."

When finally her tears had run out and she seemed calmed, he watched like a king as the tearful pig spontaneously crawled off of him and contorted herself in that small space upside-down folding into a tight pile driver, resting against a large stool, without him needing to say a word, just wordlessly offering open access to her tender butt-hole to the man who had just put his own wants second and held her while she cried.

Goyle really appreciated and enjoyed the wide-open view and easy access the position afforded, as well as the fact that folded up like that she resembled an actual modest-sized rubbish bin lying unobtrusively on the floor. When he looked down and met her begging eyes looking up at him upside down from the floor, he felt wild. Even though he had promised himself while he held the sweet girl in his arms he would control himself and take his time, he could not control himself when he felt the grip of her anus once again stretching around his fist and she soon found herself the recepient of more quidditch tape, a book of love poems, three rooster feathers that were supposed to make her horny, three destroyed dog chewtoys, and his toenail clippings as he railed them into her with his fist, in awe of the marvelous suction on his fist. He got even harder when Hermione tried to smile at him through the tears. He let her get up and suck his cock. In his opinion, the tearful Gryffindor gave him the most loving and submissive blowjob that ever was. Boy, did Goyle need to get himself one of these. Draco could put whatever he wanted whenever he wanted up her arse. His cock, his hand, other men's cocks, other men's hands. It caught Goyle by surprise but he hoped Hermione would like the mudblood he'd been seeing and would teach his girl a thing or two. Goyle pulled out and came point-blank in a degrading come-masking. "I expect you back in class in five minutes. You're braver than this," he said and left.

She did somehow find the strength to waddle back to class and was happy when he smiled at seeing her.

Theo grabbed her after lunch and brought her to the Prefect's Bathroom to have his toes sucked, his balls sucked, eventually get rid of a honking load of junk as he was a bit of a hoarder, and get his dick sucked. He was proud how the sad creature crawled out the room when he was through with her.

It was the most painful and longest shit Hermione had ever taken.

"Wow, look at those things!"

"Hermione sure is one obedient mudblood!"

"She's a fine two-hole circus," another voice stated admiringly.

Where was Draco?

Blaise had found her and was coaching at her side a little behind her, "Shit, baby girl. You're doing a fine job. Just concentrate and focus on pushing it out. It's nice and big. It's a real huge one. It's not going to be easy. Trash shit's got to hurt real bad. Oh yeah, that's a girl! That's real nice. It hurts real bad, doesn't it? That's the stuff, you little rubbish compactor. That's what we want to see, push hard, a little mudblood arse hurting, working hard stretching over and pushing out its trash poops to please men. Destroy that arse There's a nice trash poop log. Keep pushing. Don't lose courage now. It's gotta hurt, baby, it's gotta hurt real bad, just keep shitting. You can do it.."

Hermione was led around the perimeter of the memorial courtyard by Kreacher to shit her immense burden, and then around all the statues and plaques, crying as she defiled the sacred ground to the eyes of many of the same Slytherins who had beheld her the night before got to see the fruits of their special clean-up.

Then Goyle came with a big bullwhip and she was flayed when she took a break from her poops. She eventually passed out, and, this is the part of the evening that made the biggest impression on the audience, Kreacher spread the fallen pooper and spelled the rest of the shit trash to rapidly leave her body making her unconscious form emit deep, zombie-like moans in pain as her body flopped and writhed, her arse seemed to warble-wobble distortedly from the speed of the poop expulsion and a vast trash-shit mountain was erected like a miracle on the newly hallowed ground.

Hermione was not awake to appreciate it when some moments later her giant trash-snake logs were magically transformed into large, thick green and silver flowers. Some of the Slytherins then said some words for their fallen and there was even some singing.

Hermione awoke with her Master's dirty dick pressing against her mouth. "I got this guy real dirty, poopy. I want you to take care of it for me."

A still sleepy Hermione gave Draco a sad puppy-dog look and slowly got to cleaning his very dirty dick. It was nasty tasting other girls' shit.

"It felt absolutely amazing, like the normal sensations were layered over a shivery ghost wank, fucking, that is, while you were taking a four hour trash shit! Merlin, let me tell you! It was so phenomenal beyond anything I've ever experienced before, on totally another level. Thanks to you I just had the ten best fucks of my life with some other mudpigs," he teased, sort of.

She broke into tears.

"Aww, don't be like that. I've been thinking of other ways to torment your arsehole too. I know whose hard work is behind those incredible fucks. You pleased your Master. I want to continue to explore and develop your ghostly arse slavery connection to my cock. Think of it this way. You were with me in a way no woman has been, really priming me to slay those other pigs, absolutely wrecking their backholes. It was a bit of a massacre, and they were all so tight! Remember what that was like? It made me feel so manly to feel how much such fresh chutes expanded on my ugly monster. Those mudpigs were choice and comported themselves well. You know how mudbloods can be, they were willing to do everything. What an amazing fuckathon. Maybe I should make Hermione be a dumpster shitter regularly now that you look like an open one of those muggle garbage lorries from the back? That way I can spend my time wrestling tight, tiny-wrinkle poopers while my pain-pig vibes my cock."

"Yes, Master, please let this pig vibe your cock with its painful trash shits while you wrestle more worthy, tiny-wrinkle poopers," Hermione snivelled while weeping disconsolately, envisioning her life as a dumpster whose purpose was to make painful shits so her lover could enjoy the pleasurable, distant echo of her pain to enhance the superior sexual experiences he was having with other women whose arseholes weren't in ruins. Her arsehole felt more freakish and open than ever before from taking so much garbage and she felt her body was now mostly her arsehole's immense, hollowed out garbage cavity ready for the containment of large volumes of waste. She miserably tried to process the strange change, through the immense soreness, numbness, different kinds of pain, new diaphanousness, utter slackness that now seemed a physical abyss she had been disfigured by and had to learn to live with. Tears escaped her eyes and more and more as her arsehole felt to her like one of those ridiculous surrealist clocks.

"Ha, ha you don't even feel that, do you? I'm so proud of you, slave. You're growing your heart flower out of your arsehole for me. It's gorgeous. Don't look at it now, I'm about to come. Go deeper! Ah!" Hermione drove her throat down on her Master's immense cock as his pelvis thrust forward and he grabbed the thorny stalk with one hand and used the sword he had brought to expertly chopped the wide woody base of the stalk with a neat almost snip a hair above Hermione's saggy arsehole, right before and a little into his unloading into her stomach.

When she recovered enough from her slave-gasm, she saw Draco was holding out to her the most beautiful, radiant, supernatural flower that was almost like fire, but softer, like large, gaseous petals, and mostly a deep red and secondarily orange and more magenta than real fire. It was mesmerizing. Hermione had never seen anything like it. She felt like she could watch it forever fascinated by its blossoming color and movement.

Her arse had grown that? She felt great pride and hoped her Master was as pleased with the beautiful flower as she was.

"I'm so pleased with the slave flowers you grew for us-"

Slave flowers? She looked around becoming aware she had had the sense of not awakening in the same place she had fallen unconscius in as she was now surrounded on all sides by tall, looming flowers.

Beautiful, ethereal, wild-looking Slytherin flowers.

Almost as beautiful as the one in Draco's hand.

"- This place looks way less blah now, and, Hermione, your heart flower is even more special to me. I'm so glad you made one. Heart flowers are the physical representations of the slave's soul and are quite prized and sought after. Usually slaves only give up their heart flowers after decades of hard service. As your Master, I am quite pleased to be harvest your first today. The new memorial flowers came out beautiful even though they were made with trash and malice, trust me, they don't always do that. It is a credit to your quality as a fine gentleman's arse-slave trash kiln. Even more still is your adorable heart flower. Here, hold it. It wasn't all aggressive fists and trash stuffed in your arse, there was already a bit of your soul, your love for me, a little plant matter, and your shit, enough for the kiln of your arse, if you will, to create a kind of whole. This is amazing. Heart flowers have many powerful magical properties. Doesn't the aura coming off it feel incredible? Do you like it?"

"It's so beautiful, Master! I love it."

"It is, indeed. Now I want you to give it back to me."

Hermione reluctantly relinquished the ethereal, fiery flower, still utterly mesmerized, wary of what her Master would do, on her altar-serving hands. "Please, Master, take my flower you plucked."

Hermione watched as if in slow motion horror as Draco picked up her flower and carelessly tossed it on the dirt. She saw some of its beautiful celestial petals bend and heard a papery crunch. Draco's dick pointed at a slight angle, mostly down, and her Master's dark yellow stream casually nailed the pretty, fragile flower.

Hermione felt a buzzing in her head as if Draco's stream was not hitting the flower but was nailing instead Hermione's poor brain and she could think of nothing but that stupid, dumb, pleasurable buzzing as the flower shrivelled and blackened and kept shrinking and eventually disappeared before her eyes under the steady force of a long and powerful golden stream.

Then her flower was gone.

Draco tucked himself away, looking relaxed and happy having extinguished his slave's first heart flower.

Then he picked up the humungous bull whip Goyle had left behind. It was almost as tall as he was and he stuck it up Hermione's arse handle-first only for the forearm thick whip to fall hilariously deeper into the fuckpig's arse with a audible plunk that ellicited a grunt from the pig. He laughed heartily and moved the whip around in her innards, stirring her up and exploring. The whip was so long it looked like she had a massive black tail dragging behind her. Draco made her start the crawl back to his quarters and laughed as every time she made a start the bull-whip was dragged out of her slack, useless arse.

Hermione was deep in her submissive spiral, trying bravely to stoically carry on but miserably cried as her arse proved useless and ruined before her Master again and again and she imagined a future in which he only ever used tighter buttholes for his amazing cock now that hers was completely ruined. She still wanted to be as good for her Master as she could and tried with all her might to tighten her flappy butt ring and chute muscles but they were no longer hers to command and remained slack and stretched out to uselessness. As her Master snickered in a way that told her he was growing bored and drawled contempuously, "I should see if I can ride my broom into that thing," she could easily imagine her life simply as a communal Slytherin garbage, with broadening utility and objectification now that she no longer had a functioning arse to service him with and cried even harder. She had never felt like such an inferior freak but she was really this Pureblood's garbage and now maybe his clownish jester. She was a real garbage-pig, primarily now a garbage-pig.

"Oh Master!"

He put the whip-handle back in her arsehole but this time held it making sure no more than a foot and a half got lost in there. Then he put her hands on his pants over his dick and said, "Hermione, even though you're a mudblood you're the girl of my dreams. I never thought I'd feel for a woman what I feel for you. You're the best pain-pig an angry young Pureblood dark wizard like me could ask for. My perfect pain-pig." His smile down into the hopeful, longing face of his little pig turned into a smirk as he pushed her own thick, jagged wand against her sagging arse and she remained insensible, unable to feel her own wand pointed up her arse, and Draco could've laughed at the naked desire in the pig's eyes for romance if he wasn't so affected himself.

He kissed his obedient, good pig who looked at him with wide, vulnerable eyes as he kept her two little hands reverently pressed on his dick with one hand. " You've earned this. Intactus Culus Virginitatis."

Hermione screamed as her anal virginity instantly returned to her and yet was instantly lost on the foot and a half of the magnificent bull-whip handle. Draco grunted and his eyes rolled back as he held his the hands of the small Gryffindor fast on his cock as she bucked and convulsed. The force was thrumming violently through the handle like it was a tuning fork and going through her body, but especially her arse, in resounding, smarting waves. Her muscles could simply not make sense. She felt cramping and sharp pain, but she was distracted by the enormous enlargment and rigidity that grew under her hands that came with the intense pain. Her pain was pleasing her Master. It made her salivate groping a prick that was that huge and so hard, she could sense her pain was giving his cock a pleasant vibe through tickles in her hands that could almost distract from the agony still resounding around the large stick in her arse.

"Stick your tongue out and roll up your eyes and try to ride the pain with a face like that. That's beautiful," he lied, enjoying it when she blushed with such a silly face even more and even managed to look coy, and then grew more confident in showing her dumb face he asked for to him, which, along with her earnestness, turned Draco on even more. Watching the play of pain, lust, and submission on her astoundingly dumb expression, made him incredibly hard as the waves of vibe to his cock were stimulatingly to a more strained, twitchy, miserable look on his pig's hilarious face. Draco felt like the luckiest, most privileged boy with the best pig in the entire world as he took out his cock and hosed her, saucing her stupid face good.

Hermione let her tongue hang out and rolled her eyes and let the pain roll through her to put on a good show for her Master when the painful anal contractions struck. Underneath it all she was so happy! He tightened her arse!

"There's a good girl. I told you not to worry about your arse. It felt amazing feeling you instantaneously lose your arse virginity to Mr. Bull Whip. Feels amazing resounding down my dick." He helped her get properly on all fours.

"Yes, Master!" she squeaked obsequiously.

"Get moving. When we get back to my quarters, I'm going to see if I can't beat our romantic first time and have another special first time where I crack open your arse as much in one night as I did during our entire 'courtship'. To test your sturdiness," he said gruffly in a way that turned Hermione on, and he lightly kicked his slave in the arse with his boot but also picked up the whip from the floor midway down the length of it trailing to help her move a bit faster. "I should say second time. Mr. Bull Whip took you good and hard already, didn't he, darling? And he's still not through with you, ha ha. He's real thoughtful getting you ready for me."

"Yth, Mhther." she lisped around her tongue. She felt really light-headed.

"Keep that face. It turns your Master on."

Draco proudly watched from behind, carrying part of the massive length of whip that trailed from Hermione's arsehole as she waddle-crawled like the demented masthead to his ship. She didn't make a fuss or change an iota of her idiotic expression when they ran into some other super seniors in the hallways. Draco just shrugged and smiled at Neville Longbottom and Cormac McLaggen as they witnessed Draco to be the lucky conductor of the freak Hermione parade. Cormac even took some photos.

Hermione felt much better and confident to have a nice, tight hole to offer her Master, but her uncertainty about her position returned. When her arse was totally expanded like that she hadn't even felt like a person. Was she a love-pet or a present and future garbage can? Would she be able to stay close to Draco and get to please his dick in person? Or would she become a forgotten object for occasional refuse? Hermione tried not to think about who was seeing her. She still had to face whoever was still up in the Slytherin common room. She focused on trying to hold her tail and keeping her rhythm and trying to be immediately responsive to the large Slytherin who enjoyed pushing her forward with it and dragging her back despite her sluggish pace.

Despite the still ringing, stinging pain in her arse and trudging progress, potential infamy and future uncertainty, Hermione was over the moon crawling around with her new tight hole with a tremendous pride and relief even if it was overstuffed and cramped by a horrible whip, which was a horrible pain and bother to tug the tail of behind her, as well. Yet she crawled with a kind of pride. Those other pigs weren't doing this for him, she was sure of it.

This is what she could give him. Anything. Everything.

Once inside his room, Draco ripped the bull whip out of her arse, helping himself to another strong dose of the ghost vibe on his cock that allowed him to blast another helping of his special sauce on her stupid face. "You dumb bitch." She writhed in pain on the floor making pathetic masochistic noises as he sprayed her and enjoyed the intense pain in her distorted expression that went along with the rolling waves of feathery pleasure caressing his cock and balls.

"Baby, now that you are a garbage receptacle, you will always be a garbage receptacle. A Slytherin and Pureblood trash receptacle. Your boyfriends are all allowed to use that mudblood dumpster to get rid of small trash because that's what you are, a place to store trash. I'll go over the specifics with them personally. But in a little over a month, I'm meeting with some of my father's associates. I'd like you to serve as the trash receptacle for that meeting. I think it's prudent to display our relationship openly to these friends of my fathers so they do not see you as a problem or an interesting mystery or some unturned stone. Best to keep these boorish veteran sadists sated or oversated, I'd say. But they're not some school chums, pig. The reason not many young Slytherins keep a pig is because we were exposed to our fathers' slaves. Generally neglected, miserable creatures, dead-eyed, sometimes suffering a painful death or unimaginably awful and permanent torture or in a state of not being really alive and falling apart along with being an odd color. It is unimaginably grim and unsexy. These men will be of that generation. They're going to be quite rough, is what I'm saying. Remember when Theo tossed those cigarettes into your trash hole? That will be like nothing to the kind of amusement these types of seasoned, bored old murders can have with a mudpig hole, especially when the young pig is in question is Hermione Granger, mudblood extraordinaire. But it will be hot and I want to see it. You should work on your braindead trashcan look now so you don't piss them off. Yes, just like that. Let's do a little trashcan play as your foreplay for your special new second time." He beckoned her over to join him athis desk where he had a small pail of garbage in one hand and gestured to his splayed legs invitingly, his chair half pulled out from in order to give her access to his seated lap.

It made her feel bad that she was going to be used in such a way again, but it also made her body feel really good with how bad it was. Her arse was still ringing from the violent ripping out of the devirginizing whip's handle but somehow she was immensely happy having her pain to give to her Master and wanted to pout and relax and contract her arsehole to show her eagerness to take his trash. And so she did, folded over so the rest of her body was under his desk and only her arsehole and pussy were visible on his lap, her hands obediently spreading her holes wide for him to look at and for ease of use.

He both sensed and watched his beast's sensual fluctuations of her arsehole to entice him and enjoyed her arsehole dance on his lap very much. He stuck two fingers up it, scissored them, tried to pry her newly tight butthole open by pulling his two index fingers apart inside it a few times and watching it close back up and pulsate. Draco pushed in the first bit of trash, a ball of parchment he had rolled up small, and nudged it slowly against the sensually pulsating trash-orifice and watched it get swallowed by the tiny, compliantly contracting butthole. Draco pushed in food wrappers, broken quills, various shavings and shells and trimmings from potion ingredients, some quidditch tape, a stale, half-eaten apple pastie, and even a ratty old jock strap, though that took much more time and a lot of patience.

"Now I want you to kiss your lover the Bull Whip to thank him. Thank him, kiss that handle, and hug and hump him. Merlin that's hot! I think he really likes you. Now hand him over, you brazen slut. In a little while, we can make our special love and see about making me another shitter flower. But first Mr. Bull Whip and I are going to give you another lesson in showing respect," her Master said sinisterly.

Hermione shivered and tried to anticipate what flogging pose her Master wished, but the decision was taken away from her and she was suddenly hanging by her tits by a rope hanging from the ceiling and her Master was on her, whacking her silly. Her pain-dance was even more beautiful to Draco than her enticing arsehole dance, and that was really saying something.

When Draco deemed the sweating, flailing pig ready she fell into his arms as he dismissed the ropes. He gave her really sweet, loving kisses along her neckline, shoulder, and the back of her neck as he easily carried her to bed. He tossed her down on her stomach and immediately lined himself up to get in his almost-virgin mudblood bunghole, kissed her and whispered in her ear, "I want you to pout up that shithole real well and help me stick it on my prong," and heaved himself in a moment later when he felt her relax further. He had to pat himself on the back, the trash felt amazing getting crushed and shoved on his cock in a beautiful play of textures and feelings as he felt the trunk of his thick, throbbing member almost suffocating in the incredible tightness of the stuck pain-pig beneath him. Master and pain-pig both took her painful cries and squeals in stride, the Master doing the repeated rough sticking and the pain-pig doing her best to pout her tight arse! Her Master dug away like a one-man demolition team. Occasionally showing her a little mercy by dismounting and presenting his dick for cleaning. Hermione was in hog heaven. She had thought she might never serve him like this again! It was worth it. It was worth becoming garbage herself.

Hermione felt like garbage inside and out, both a receptacle for garbage and a piece of garbage on multiple levels herself. Letting Draco put his garbage in her arse and letting him feel good stirring it up with his dick, shamed her like never before. Especially as he kept stuffing her with small garbages and then fucking her brutally and without mercy, widening her with his stick, praising her for her "new first double-anal with me and my refuse owning your new arse," putting her sturdiness to the test as he forced his cock further into her foul depths at a breakneck speed with strength that tossed her around the room like a ragdoll.

Hermione went from repulsed and revolted by her new garbage-iness, to resigned and accepting of it, to reveling feverishly in the depravity of it and her sheer worthlessness. Draco recognized the change in her, and unplugging his cock from a nice slathering mouth clean-up he cooed to her and helped her into a piledriver position against the side of his nightstand, where a muggle would likely put a small garbage bin, and he blessed the gods for infinitely useful, capacious, accomodating mudblood arseholes. Hers swallowed the wet leaves from his teapot and some herbs from diffusions, and a deflated ball. He used his hard dick to nudge-shove them down, mesmerized by the contracting orifice that swallowed them so well. He looked into her eyes, looming over her. His eyes told her this was a place she belonged and fucked her there in the perfect place for a mudblood rubbish bin with his garbage inside her.

Her sturdiness was nothing compared to her Master's it seemed as she passed out long before he was willing to call it quits on the project to expand her hole as much as possible in a single night. By the end of the night he had an unconscious Hermione taking his entire cock and forearm as well as a bit more garbage. It wasn't a whole dumpster worth of space in there but he'd made quite a satisfactory crack in it. He shook Hermione off his cock and forearm and watched as she splooshed off onto the floor in a legs-splyed heap and admired the way her arse did not close. He placed her back in piledriver propped against his nightstand and went to shower and wash off the garbage and pig – Merlin, it turned him on that was what Hermione Granger was now, his garbage pig! Her hole in yet another service to make the world more amusing for a Pureblood man.

When he re-entered his bedroom, he discovered still more blessings. Four more flowers were waiting for him, growing out of his little arse-bin. He used his sword to cut the four gorgeous flowers in blue, red, orange, and lavender from the sleeping slave's arse and carried them back into the bathroom.

He carelessly tossed the gorgeous flowers into the toilet where they glowed and shimmered beautifully and took out his cock, pretending the flowers were his slave's entire soul, and relieved himself, feeling those magical flamed flowers extinguish sensually as they fizzled under the torrent of his desecrating waste. He thought they looked even better when they started to get fainter and to flutter moments before shrivelling and until finally in the face of his enduring stream they all but disappeared. As the flowers died, it felt to Draco as if his cock grew ten sizes and all the muscles and tension in his body were released at once. "Mmmm.Yeah," he breathed. The flowers were so little faint debris in the yellow pot before he flushed it and finally went to bed.

Chapter 9:

Harry and Ron crossed of the hill and could not believe what they were seeing.

The naked, bound, beast-like looking women whipped by house elves who were saddled like jockeys on their backs raced around a track that was partially an obstacle course while a jovial group of Slytherins looked on from a plush-looking stand yelling directives at individual girls, joking, drinking, smoking, betting, appraising. Not that Harry or Ron much noticed the men, though it registered on some level, they were captivated by the intensely humiliating, painful, dehumanizing looks on the beautiful bodies forced to run as fast as they could by the cruel elf drivers.

The women-beasts all had bits in their mouth and a bridle to connect to the reigns their riders gripped. Some were blinkered. Some were hooded. Some had hooks disfiguring their noses. Some had gags as well as bits. Some had dental dams. Their bodies were erotically and sadistically harnessed in black, green, and silver. Some were belled. Most tits were bound; some of those segmented by rope into deformed bulging parts that flop-whipped as they ran, a strange, poignant, not unpleasant sight to the two young men. The tight ropes held the bondage ponies' parts open or otherwise cut into them cruelly. Further, many of the pony holes were occupied, some with a cute or severe looking tail attached to it. They all wore very high, lace-up platformed hoof heels that forced them onto their tippy toes and their arms were tied behind their back just above the elf's saddle. There were colorful pictures and words decorating the girls' rumps but they were difficult to make out.

It was the most fascinating thing Harry and Ron had ever seen. Their pricks were straining against their pants.

"Hey, that's Hermione!" Ron cried excitedly, as they were admiring the athleticism of the lead pony who had broken well away from the pack and was approaching the finish line. The house elf riding her cracked her mercilessly and rapidly, easily the most brutal jockey of the bunch, which came as no surprise to Harry and Ron once they saw who it was.

"Woah..."

It was a lot to take in making the connection of their formerly prim and know-it-all best friend and the nose-hooked, bridled beast getting its ass beat the most brutally they had ever seen even though its ass was already well-discolored with bruises as she stampeded gloriously toward the finish line.

Not only did the leather bridle pull her lips back and pull to separate her jaw and the bridle create a beautiful net-like design over her bald head, but her tongue was pulled taut by a chain that connected to a ring around the base of a pierced, engorged, silly big clit forcing her neck to a rigid bent over position with her tongue held ridiculously out of her mouth. With that and the nose hooks deforming her face she hardly could be recognized as human and instead looked like a humble, charging pig. It was a picture of their friend that made them feel lots of things they had never felt before.

Even her tits had been developed into Draco Malfoy's pain-toys. The glorious thickly bound at the base tits were clipped with a connecting bar that deformingly dragged her rack toward the floor with weights attached on rings to the bar. Her nipples were thick and incredibly long and a strange purple color. She looked incredibly stupid and sweaty winning the demented race being driven by the cruel house elf and both men couldn't wait to congratulate her. They made their way closer seeing Hermione led up onto the highest step on a three-leveled stand and watched incredulously as she looked up at Draco from her bent posture with open love and devotion clear even through her face bondage as he proudly hung a green and silver flower wreath that read, "Best in Show" around her bent neck.

Hermione nuzzled her Master's arm and torso while his hands enjoyed playing with her restricted body, tugging her tit leash up towards her tongue, tugging her heavily weighted titties, groping her sore arse with Kreacher still in the saddle waving a gold cup that read "Best Bitch Rider." Then Draco was pushing her to her knees and his mammoth dick was being shoved over her clamped tongue and the indefatigable pony girl was servicing his Pureblood cock properly, sucking at him as best she could with her mouth and throat while putting rolling rhythmic pressure against the underside of his dick with her pulled out tongue, causing her to moan into his dick as her own tongue tugged the chain around her clit as Draco took what he needed casually humping her disfigured-for-him face.

Harry and Ron recognized two more Malfoy house elves capturing all the precious moments on wizarding camera.

Afterward, Draco rested his dick over her head like it was its table as she stood on her knees between his legs and leaning against him with her head bent under Master's massive, cock that victoriously obscured the prize slave's entire skull and personality. Harry and Ron watched on disbelievingly at the depravity as Draco's snuggly little cock-stool ponybitch began to undulate her head to provide her Master's cock with pleasant stimulation and make the experience of dangling his immense sticky cock over his fuckpig more enjoyable for him.

Then Harry and Ron were too immersed in the chaos of the dissolving event and the distracting sight of the elf-mounted girls' reunifications with their Masters now on the field. Some Slytherins were ungagging their bondage ponies and patting their rumps; some were meeting their ponies with stern looks and wicked instruments and stringing them up in nearby trees; some immediately have their pony give some attention to their waiting hard-ons; some put more bejeweled and lavish pony bondage gear on their ponies for the party and were continued to be treated like real ponies, getting rubbed down by their elf groomsmen, breathing heavily, then tethered near their Masters and ignored while the festivities broke out into something like a house elf catered barbecue.

Making it even better up close Harry and Ron recognized easily many of the girls as all were among the most comely muggleborns in the eighth year students. The ponies stayed in regalia though some Masters had relented with the worst of it offering their favored biddable bondage pets some liberation as they were offered water, treats, and pets.

Still some other Masters intensified their pet-girls' bondage.

Ron nearly came in his pants when he saw petite, tiny, delicate Bianca Archer disappear zipped away by the big ugly bruiser of a Slytherin Boris de Cheval who had stayed behind many a year: tied in a tight hooded bondage suit, her wide, innocent, fearful eyes among the last part of her to disappear under a thick shiny material stretched over her folded body, her soft pleading ignored by de Cheval. The rubber doll was then casually packed in a medium size quidditch sport bag, Ron was electrified by the ignored and jostled bag that held the tiny, hot girl in her several layers of tormenting bondage for a the cruel, large older student. He himself had fantasized about being a little rough with Bianca Archer but never had he imagined carrying around the petite, delicate student like just a piece of luggage convenient to have around.

When they caught up with Malfoy again, he was in the throes of pleasure, his trousers dropped, and their friend once again with Malfoy's entire mammoth cock down her throat serving him heroically and slovenly the best she could in her pony attire.

To their surprise, however, was another pony serving Malfoy with her face crammed right in his arse, though they could hear copious slurps and sucking.

He looked to see the two Gryffindors and gave an apologetic look and shrug as if to say, this will only take a moment before getting lost again in the service from the bondage ponies.

"Ah! Ah!" Draco's hands came to hold the hard-working pony tight to his groin. "Take it! Suck it all out of my balls!"

Then he addressed his invited guests. "Glad you could make it. Fancy a rim job? The loser ponygirl has to serve every man in attendance as an assrag," he explained, pulling a sheepish ponygirl's face from his arse by the hair.

Both Harry and Ron dropped trou without thinking about it and Draco pushed the pony assrag in their direction. Harry and Ron watched with bated breath as the pathetic creature who may've been Eloise Cantrell crawl behind Harry, who was closest, pull his cheeks apart and get right to work.

Harry felt powerful like he never had before and like he had finally found what was missing in his life as he enjoyed his ass getting tongue-prodded and sucked on in a most pleasurable way along with the amazing feel of the ponygirl's soft bridled face pressed and rubbing against his ass.

The talented little ass-weasel pony stroked his cock and deftly maneuvered his cock to her mouth to catch all his jism, moaning, and finishing up showing him his jizz in her mouth before swallowing it. He patted her on the head and pulled her up by the hair before letting her go in Ron's direction, as if to dismiss with a 'go on, get!' and watched the cruelly hobbled pony crawl to behind his friend.

Ron felt like he had been waiting all his life to get his arse licked out, cleaned and sucked by a sexy slave schoolmate. Is this the kind of thing Malfoy got from Hermione? It was much better than making out the normal way. He was so jealous. Hermione had only ever done his homework and kissed him and now she was Malfoy's slave and he was probably having her tongue-fuck his butt whenever he wants. That should me him! Hermione should be tasting his arse, he thought sadly.

He looked at pony-Hermione still serving between her Master's legs while he and Harry were making small talk about the races. There was no doubt in Ron's mind that however well the pony behind him felt electrifying his prick through his arse and with the delicate deft touch of her hands, Hermione's rimming skills were sure to be unparalleled and infinitely better. An absolutely enormous butt plug protruded obscenely from her arse with a curled up black bar protruded about a foot from her arsecheeks curling up and from which a cascade of what looked to be Hermione's former hair cascaded down in a mane-like tale with some space between her arse and the start of her tresses down and up the thick pole sticking out of her arse.

It was his own fault for not realizing his friend was just another mudblood fuckpig and taking her himself. As a Pureblood steeped in the culture and as her male friend and former boyfriend he should've protected her from the likes of Malfoy. If only he had realized what she needed. He watched her, a perfectly still bondage pony performing the service of living cock-case while Draco idly chatted away with Harry, and Ron wondered what would have happened if he'd realized her potential before or when they'd dated.

The assrag sopped up his come, getting her mouth around his dick in the nick of time.

Draco tenderly pulled his cock from the depths of his champion pony's throat and it took a moment or two for her to be aware of her friends. Draco caressed her cheek as if the bridle wasn't there and said, "Hermione, your friends are here."

Hermione turned her gaze finally to her friends and her eyes seemed to clear. She tried to say something but it was incomprehensible with her tongue clipped to her clit leash. The sight of a bald Hermione Granger struggling so pervertedly for speech struck them. Their cocks throbbed watching Draco casually unclip his slave's tongue and undo her bit, exerting his power over her speech, and letting the clit leash fall to the ground.

It was strange, bewildering, and exciting to be once again face to face with the bald head and face ridiculously disfigured in bondage of their best friend and Malfoy's slave. Despite the extreme bondage Hermione was still very feminine and she was blushing adorably, looking at her friends rather shyly, and seeking their approval in a way that spoke directly to their dicks. She looked so different, like a real pig, a face like they had never seen or imagined before on their pretty friend, her bald skull bridled like a horse for their longtime bully and former Deatheater, Draco Malfoy, who, perhaps most disconcerting of all was gazing down at his transformed pig with a dopey expression and petting her head like a beloved dog.

Below her sweet, stupid pig face was a marvelously tortured full rack of purple, segmented, stretched tits in their rope holster and poor nipples stretched by clipped on dangling weights. Below that beguiling sight was her large silly-looking clit puffing out from a tiny cinching ring at its base and with a small bar slave tag piercing the end and the chain on the ground connecting to the impossibly tiny cincher. Hermione had clearly been modified by the Slytherin into his owned pig. Hermione had submitted her body some time ago to be developed into the proper obscene slave parts for her Master they saw before them.

Hermione smiled shyly at them with a bewitching, wavering shadow of a grimace sometimes falling over her expression that was the only indication the bondage caused her any pain.

"Hey guys."

"Blimey, Hermione, you look incredible!" "Congratulations, you ran so fast! You were the best pony!"

"I love the bridle and bit you girls were all wearing! It's so hot seeing you like that!" her friends gushed.

"Hermione, we can take off your nose-hooks and bridle if that makes easier to talk to your friends?" Draco inquired.

"I hope it doesn't bother you, Harry and Ron, but that won't be necessary, Master."

"That's fine!" "You look nice!"

Draco snickered. "Hermione and I have been talking and we'd like to invite you both to be two of her special boyfriends. Hermione services some of my mates with her mouth and we thought it was only fair to open her up to her own best friends."

"Please, guys," the disfigured slut-beast with Hermione's sweet voice begged.

"Of course!" "Blimey, yes!

"Hermione, you have special permission to tend their arses as well. They really seemed to like that when Eloise did it."

Harry and Ron flipped a coin to determine who went first.

"Take my dick and suck it well, Hermione," Harry commanded in a rough voice.

With their large knobs out and expectant of satisfaction the two young men couldn't help being bossy with their know-it-all, formerly prissy, now humbled slave-best friend. Before she could do as he ordered though, he smacked her repeatedly in the face with his cock. Her grotesque facial bondage seemed to demand degrading punishment in a way he had never treated a girl before and Harry smiled widely. She took the abuse. He beat up his silly-looking friend with his cock, making her look much sillier as she placidly took took the dick-blows in her shameful face.

For not the first time he wished he'd have known what a slut Hermione was underneath and that it was him who got to truss her up as his sex beast and lead her around a field sharing her with whoever he liked instead of Malfoy who was still a git even if it was surprisingly cool of him to share his mudblood slave with them of all people, even when recognizing Draco relished the chance to show off to them how he had transformed their friend into his lowly slave.

"You look so pretty, Hermione. Prettier than you did at the Yule Ball," Harry lied, fascinated by how her piggy face swelled up from his blows. Whap! Whap!

He used a grip on her scalp to hold her steady while he lined up his cock. "Open, whore," Harry ordered in an unfamiliar, hardened voice. Then Harry was plunging his cock down Hermione's gullet, sheathing it into her throat at a brisk clip.

Draco was bemusedly impressed the boy wonder had it in him as he walked away to get something to eat. He bet both friends of his mudblood would appreciate some alone time to work out their feelings towards their friend and he figured they'd act more uninhibited if he were not watching them. It turned Draco on immensely for Hermione to service and even take abuse from Draco's two former enemies and her best friends, showing off what a freaky slut he had transformed their friend into and coaxing their complicity and participation in her slave training. And besides, they would be very useful to have as his own friends.

Harry and Ron had a great time using Hermione for the first time. Harry's hands came around Hermione's neck and he discovered how very much he enjoyed choking a girl who is serving him. It is a revelation and Hermione was a good little choker for him. The only protest she gave was involuntary as he gently choked her while giving her a brutal fucking to the face. He can't help but imagine just how different morale could have been when they were on the run if he had been working out his frustrations and aggression like this the entire time and sharing the privilege with Ron. They could've had Hermione trained as their slave if they'd only been much, much more domineering and presumptuous with their pretty friend. She could've been his obedient choke baby.

Harry withheld himself from getting carried away by letting other desires out from the cacophony within himself calling for attention now that he had a real slave at his disposal. He barked orders and experienced what it was like to get his balls worshipped and his arse serviced by his friend. He was delighted to learn she was even better than assrag Eloise. He put her through her paces several times before blowing himself fully mounted down her throat.

Ron was only interested in continuing to have a girl make out with his arse and simply used his arse to greet his friend and sat on her, having Hermione's long, nimble, rough tongue serving his arse was a dream come true. Hermione tugged his cock like she was tugging a cow with her face in his arse and she moved to catch his cum in her mouth despite the awkward gear and had to wiggle like a worm.

Then it was time for Hermione's reward whipping.

Harry and Ron watched in open-mouthed wonder as their piggy friend was strung up to hang by both her bond arms and her bond titties by a rope over a tree branch.

Draco took out a wicked-looking, medium-sized knotted whip and held it up to Hermione's mouth. Hermione reverently kissed and sucked it like a cock, begging Draco to "Please beat your piece of shit, Master."

It made them incredibly hard seeing her beg for it like that, pain and all, it was understood.

Draco gave his hanging pig a beating the likes of which Harry and Ron had never seen. They had never seen a man act that aggressively towards a woman and it was incredibly erotic. He beat her like he was using the whip to clobber her as she screamed and swung from her titty holster. Draco gave not a care to how purple and distended poor Hermione's tubular-looking tits except to find them more of an irresistible target for his blows. It somehow just made sense after all they had witnessed to see Hermione's Master deliver her some painful blows and were surprised how much they relished seeing their friend in excruciating agony, flailing like some furious animal. Unsurprisingly the slave not only screamed in pain but began to moan and came a few times.

When Draco handed the whip to him, Harry had no compunction giving Hermione his own beating and was gratified to beat an orgasm out of his childhood friend on the lash of his whip and watch her stupid, excruciating dance. Ron and then Kreacher had their chance next.

The two men watched with rapt, incredulous attention as Kreacher cut the pitiful fuckpig loose from the tree, and her arm bonds, with a snip of an accio'd shears and she collapsed to the ground in a heap. Draco had a smug look on his face as he sat in a chair he'd conjured for himself and they watched the beaten beast of a girl crawl pathetically on the ground until she was close enough to throw her arms around her Master's legs and thanked him fervently and passionately for her beating and in broken, frantic, tearful, soft speech. She tilted her head back to show him a nice pliant, open mouth, as if to say, "It's still ready for you, Master. I'm a good girl," even as tears streamed down her face and little hiccuped sobs still issued from her throat.

Harry and Ron felt harder than ever watching the tearful, emotional, worshipful blowjob Hermione gave to her Master, her gratitude and devotion palpable, as she continued to cry at the what the men saw as recognition, acceptance, and sadness at her inferiority and they could see clearly the disappointment in herself for her unworthiness and inadequacy in being such a lowly and servile thing.

They truly admired how well Draco had her trained their friend to be a perfect cock case for his mammoth dong. It was incredible watching and it filled them with longing witnessing the impossibly large thing get crammed down her throat and seeing the moving huge bulge disfiguring her body as she passionately impaled and regurgitated the thick, horse-size cock at a rapid clip.

Harry and Ron both came again, both on her face while she still had a dopey smile from a helping of her Master's seed.

Then Kreacher came and led the wrecked, crawling girl away by her clit-leash but not toward the castle. Draco explained that her exhaustion put her in a particularly suggestible state for training that Kreacher would take advantage of.

They admired her plump arse with its obscenely enormous black stopper with the beautiful train of her hair shimmering in the sun as she plodded away.

"Oh and next weekend – actually nevermind."

"What about next weekend?" Both Gryffindors looked at Draco intently.

"Oh, it was nothing. I shouldn't have mentioned... It's just something I think will be too extreme for you Gryffindorks?"

"Try us!" "That's not true!"

"Well it might be too much, but okay. Hermione and I have been talking and next weekend we'll be holding a little mock execution so I can play out one of my fantasies and hang my fuckpig by the neck. Should put on a good show kicking for us for hours. I can't wait to put my dick in her like that. Her hardiness is really coming along so she's hard to snuff. I can sense her life force through the bond anyway, so there's no real danger. Kreacher's been teaching her techni -"

At first Harry and Ron weren't sure if they were listening to Draco Malfoy blithely describe his plan to kill their friend, but once they realized it was only for pretend, their response was immediate and they were relieved.

"That's crazy! Count me in!" "Holy fuck!"

The two friends left their new Slytherin friend with a shared bemusement with the reversal of their feelings about Draco and Hermione dating, from horror and disbelief to gratitude and a kind of wonder.

Chapter 10:

"It's messed up how hard that makes me," Harry confessed, walking away from the gallows the Slytherins had erected to talk with his buddy Ron.

"Blimey, Hermione loves strangling! What a bloody wonderful dance!," Ron blurted and then asked, pointing to the hooded beautiful nude figure at Harry's elbow whom he had been curious about but too distracted by the show to ask about before, "Who's that, Harry?"

"My sex doll. Why are you carrying that large bag?"

"Sex doll, ha ha. That's real cool. Hogwarts student?"

"You bet."

"Ha ha. Me too."

"Oh owls, mate! Ha ha, she's must be really compact in there!" Harry said admiringly.

Ron, with a flourish, presented the bag to his friend and unzipped it revealing a sweaty, wan torso folded so it was literally stuffed in the seeming gym bag.

"You like my bag bitch?" laughed Ron "Here, I should tighten these bungees. Luna and I started dating two weeks ago. She does anything I want. I think I'm in love. She spent the last three days in that bag. There's a special drawer in a wardrobe in my closet that I like to keep her in, put away, you know?"

"Merlin, that's hot, Ron. Balls, does Luna fold up small! She's always blathering complete and total nonsense! I bet you can really get away with doing whatever you want to her!"

"Blimey, I truly can!"

"I'm happy for you, Ron."

"Thanks, Harry. What about you? Who's this special lady?"

"Well, Ron, I finally had a talk with the special girl I've seeing and gave her an ultimatum. If she wanted to continue dating me it would be under very different terms. She would have to agree to be my slave. The first, a special first, in what I intend to be my stable of slaves. She had to agree to accept she could never be my wife. She agreed to change her body to suit my needs. And for me to pimp her out to my friends or whoever I want. Get this, I told her I want her to have babies for me, but not necessarily my babies. That she better expect to risk pregnancy throughout her service to me and she'd have to earn her Master's seed by graciously letting enough other seed have access to her womb. She should be prepared carry to term and she'd better get used to the idea of taking care of a brood. I never thought she'd agree to it but, lucky me, she did. I've got to say, it just feels right. It feels amazing having this much control over another person. I've already changed her so much. It's like she's another person I've created. I feel like I'm finally doing the work I'm supposed to be doing when I'm training that bitch. I know it's only because it gets my dick hard, but I feel so powerful and it was so easy! And that's not all, guess what, Ron."

"Ha ha, who would have guessed you'd be a sick fuck! She sounds like an easy slut. Good for you. What is it, Harry."

"Well, I've been sharing her with some blokes. She was real reluctant at first but I talked her through it. First, one more, then two more – you know, as well as teaching her how I like to have my arse sucked – and yesterday I gave her her first gangbang. She didn't even see them! She might've recognized a voice or two but otherwise she has no idea who was fucking her! I made her wear the hood. She got railed, used like a piece of meat and thrown around, and came out of it impregnated! There are over twelve guys whose sprog it could be. A few weeks ago I was in a secret relationship with a girl who wanted more than I was capable of giving emotionally and today that hot girl is my slave who I decided would be a mommy to another man's child for me. And that's not even the best part! Do you know how I found out she was pregnant? I felt a slave bond form at the moment of conception from some other bloke's semen, from my dick to her womb, chained forever, and I can even sense the thrumming of new life there like this pleasant tingling. I don't think she knows yet. I'm not going to tell her she's pregnant, just let her body decide when it's time for her to know and feel it growing. It's the first one for a womb now dedicated to taking it. I know she hasn't even had the first one yet, but I can't wait until she has ten more. I'm going to blow that womb up!"

"That's bloody hot!"

"I hate to say this but I think the Slytherins really did have it figured out when it comes to slave girls."

"I know, nobody ever told us romantic relationships could be like this! Hey, why didn't you invite me? I would've loved a chance to knock up your breeding slave, Harry. Who is it? Tell me it's Cho!"

"Ha, ha, no, it's not Cho," Harry said awkwardly. He had recently started things back up with Cho, but he didn't mention it because he figured it was the kind of thing that made for a better surprise. "And I'm not saying you can't knock her up sometime but I really felt I wanted the first baby she would carry for me to be more a total rando to break her in to submitting her womb to whoever. I don't know why that makes me so hard. Also there's one other teeny thing."

"Poor slut. What's that, Harry?"

"It's Ginny, Ron. She's the one who sacrificed her womb to be a dedicated play-place for strange dick for me and is carrying another man's child and undergoing a personality change from the sensory deprivation gear I make her wear. It's like I'm making her a public concubine with her womb. I love sharing her womb. And Ron, it turns me on so much seeing your little sister turned into a mommy but something about her being at the very start of the freedom and opportunity of adulthood with the whole world waiting for her really makes me want to change her into a diaper-changing, baby-nursing busy mom, even busier than her own mom. How many do you think she'll have for me? I bet I'll have her beating her mother's brood in no time – no offense to your family! I know she comes from excellent breeding stock. I hope you're not angry?"

"Angry?" Ron put a finger to his chin as he thought about it. "It's my sister's decision if she wants dedicate her life to being your little pregged bitch. Merlin, that's scorching! I hope she makes many big healthy babies. Make her suffer all she wants. I trust you, Harry. Mind if I make a deposit even if she's pregged?"

"Do whatever you want with her. She's blinded and deafened under that hood, ha ha."

Chapter 11:

Hermione had been enjoying her appointments with each Pureblood Slytherin 'boyfriend.' Draco was right she was like a pig gobbling truffles when it came to their large, leaky dicks and couldn't help the warm, romantic feelings she got from her access to their dicks. It was almost like having four Pureblood boyfriends, and then a few more and then a few more, like Draco had said.

They used her regularly, mostly one on one and they could be surprisingly sweet when she was alone with any of them. Hermione found herself the recipient of many small gifts and unexpectedly thoughtful favors from her intimidating new 'boyfriends,' and best of all, Draco seemed very proud of her, and frequently he had commented on the uplifting effect she had on everyone, especially himself and his mates. She serviced Draco's friends each at least twice a week but often much more.

She loved it.

She couldn't believe what mammoth dicks these Purebloods all had. She felt like a pig in shit having multiple huge dicks she was to tend to even if none of them were quite as big as Draco's. She felt like the world's biggest slut.

Draco teased her about her "other boyfriends." She loved the attention. She was happy her Master and real boyfriend was equipped with the biggest, neediest cock of them all. He said things like, "Found you some sexy bonus boyfriends, didn't I? Did you have a good time? You're really turning out to be a talented load-milker of notorious reputation, mudpig. Theo said you were just the ticket to unload him when he had but a minute before class even though he was all backed up. I'm so proud of my super sexy fuckpig girlfriend" or he'd ask her teasingly, "Thinking about another boyfriend?" or even surprise her with a "Ready to meet your next boyfriend?"

Draco invited her to service more friends, more quidditch players to be exact.

She learned it was part of Pureblood culture because of the ancient ancestral magics that gave Pureblood men their massive, heavy, high-producing cocks that the Pureblood men shared fuckpigs, and she found she was not the only girl passed around. She puckered, sucked, gobbled, throated on command and practiced opening her mouth wide and sticking out her tongue in a vacant, begging way to facilitate her use in greater numbers and her aquiesence.

The men, in consideration of their buddy's special attention to the development of his slave's clit, were sure they paid it some extra attentiom to reinforce his training, giving the the freakishly bold thing sharp tugs or even yanks, or in Goyle's case whipping it, and in Theo's case stepping on it - though Granger cried and begged pitifully for the large student not to step on it and definitely not to stomp on it - and all took pride in and opined on the stupid clit's development. And the men made her feel like her big clit was really, really stupid. It drew laughter, curiosity, experimentation, and the most contemptuous commentary from the male schoolmates almost constantly, even the nicer ones as it was fun to tease her about her most shameful-looking part. Even worse Theo and a few others were always asking to 'trim' the ugly thing.

Being curious teenage men with such a unique and conspicuously perverse bit of flesh defenceless before them, they could not help plonking, pulling, honking, biting, gnawing, thumping, and stomping her sorry-looking clit as well as manipulating the enchanted clit cincher and tag cincher with their wands as Draco had told her to teach them to do and they were all fascinated to experiment on and control her obscene bolted and cinched, roughly abused, fat, pinky-sized clit for their own and everyone's continued amusement.

The general population of Hogwarts had been initally confounded by the sight of Hermione Granger very respectfully and bashfully trailing one of three eighth year Slytherins at his word or gesture, occassionally being caught in a heavy embrace in the hallwayss or being spanked by one of these men, and Draco's continued nonchalance and amusement at these public interactions.

It had been inevitable after witnessing the beneficial effects of his little mudblood knob-charger on himself and select fellow players on the quidditch pitch that eventually every eighth-year player on the Slytherin team could count himself one of Hermione's "special boyfriends."

Now she'd had the time of her life getting hanged and strangled for hours by the cruel Slytherins and her friends. She'd had more orgasms than ever before in that weird, colorless twilight state where everything faded out except the sensations in her slave buttton, which almost felt in her blinkering In and out of consciousness more like true painless orgasms and less like slave cums the dimmer it grew for her, and she'd been disappointed when she awoke a day and a half later to discover Draco had not in fact killed her for his pleasure and it left her yearning to be used again in an even more erotic, sensual, fatal way. Her response to the hanging had ushered in a time of great change for the muggleborn hero. The transformative power of the bond was overwhelming and effected changes that began to make her unrecognizable to herself.

The feelings got less intense the longer time went on but she was powerfully turned on by the thought of being made a snuff doll for her Master. It marked perhaps the most fundamental change in the way she saw herself to date. She had other urges as well: the urge to get down on all fours, the urge to present a submissive, gaped hole to her betters, the desire to be stuffed as a case for Draco's cock, the desire for a simpler life where she did not have to think about schoolwork or politics and could dedicate her life to pulling plows and carts in the outdoors at the end of Kreacher's whip for her Master Draco's pleasure, the desire to transform more and more outrageously to become even more of a slave to, and manifestation of, Draco's lust.

And yet it was still very difficult for a human being to adjust to being a garbage can.

She felt viscerally bad being used that way, like she knew she was a piece of garbage too and it meant she deserved every candy wrapper, leftover packaging, scrap of writing, potion ingredient trimming, or other odd uncomfortable offering one of her "boyfriends" chose to shove in there. It made Draco proud to see Hermione so frequently put to use disappearing into a closet or the loo with some big, brawny Slytherin for an efficient discharge. It both made him proud in school to have a slave so well-suited to serving the House of Slytherin and so many of his friends seeing and experiencing for themselves his utter domination of the mudblood war heroine and head girl and it also pleasurably riled him up to punish her and take out his aggression on her later for being an easy slut.

She never protested no matter how odd the things they wanted to cram up her arse. It was quite the fun entertainment Draco offered his select friends. It wore Hermione down having the men whose cocks she so lovingly and joyfully sucked disappear their rubbish up her arse. It made her feel awful like she was a living dustbin, especially when a mean Slytherin student, following Draco's lead, would make her sweep the floor, get in position her arse over her face, and tip the dusty, gritty, grimy, sometimes sandy debris she had meekly collected right down into her thoroughfare of an arsehole for anyone to see. It was one thing when her Master did it. It was another thing when any old Slytherin could do it. But ever since the evening he had her entertain the entire eighth year of Slytherin House and debutted her as a living garbage can, Draco had granted all the party attendees the privilege of the use of her to despose of their trash in her. It was the worst feeling.

Her special boyfriends all thought she looked particularly cute walking around in subdued anguish with her arsehole uncomfortable, not allowing it the chance to get used to or stop constantly adjusting to their fresh offerings of waste. As a courtesy to Draco they kept it to small trash. In any case Draco greatly enjoyed compacting the trash up her arsehole with his cock. He also enjoyed using his cock to push the filth deeper into the mudblood. He felt the magic of his cock making her accept the garbage, it becoming part of her being and allowing her the magical energy to make his cock harder and his magic stronger as her being accepted being made trash. He felt incredibly proud of himself having a mudblood fuckpig who was also a perfectly running, living, and warmly animate novelty garbage dump to offer his peers.

His public treatment of her changed as well. Hermione now openly wore for him slutty, hooker-style muggle attire, a short burlap slave dress, or a leather and rubber bondage outfit. Hermione had been caught countless times blowing groups of guys, usually Slytherins, who knew basically to line up against the castle wall and they would be satisfactorily taken good care of with great efficiency.

He openly and entertainingly added heavy weights, buzzers, and ticklers to her leashed clit, showing off a masterclass in new and creative big clitty discipline for the curious before parading her off or handing her leash to a chum. It was hilarious how he sometimes hung one of the castle bricks from her clit tag and it bobbed below her burlap short robes for the entire school to see while she made the most hilarious faces or when he hitched her leash around a belted bunch of books to drag on the floor behind her, ludicrously, occasionally smacking her arsecheeks to usher her forward if he thought she was not prompt enough and the entire school was amused watching the formerly priggish and formidable student carrying a brick or dragging books so intimately, uncomfortably, hilariously, and humbly for her so-called, Pureblood, boyfriend.

Draco soon had he reputation of not only having the most audacious fuckpig but also the best girlfriend. Not only did she submit herself to his big dick and his humiliating chastening of her, she tended the Slytherin cocks of his buddies at his direction, making love to the backed-up rods with an intoxicated fervor and a dehumanizing masochism they'd never experienced in the service to their dicks. Draco had taken her over, the queen of the mudbloods, war heroine, smartest girl in the school, as his trusty cock socket. All those brains, bravery, and kindness squandered and instead the mudblood girl wonder had her energies mostly focused on his cock and forged into a dedicated reliever for his dick.

The genius clit bondage allowed him to flaunt her lowly status as below a beast, much lower than some kind of mistress, because she was not even worthy of true orgasms: hers must hurt and be numbing and cut short, as well as she only deserved the inferior, punishing kind. He loved passing her leash to his privileged allies. It was cute seeing her clit get bullied by a crowd. Hermione acted as the perfect lusty, helpless, vacuum-sucking, dick-draining mudblood paintoy. It always turned him on to overwhelm her and make her take more than she knew herself capable of.

On game days he went a little crazy, turned on like mad at the thought of his team gaining the edge from siphoning magical and physical energy from his Gryffindor sex-battery. He loved seeing her work hard on his buddies' dicks, putting in the time to really worship them and show his friends such a nice, slovenly good time before working on his dick even more worshipfully even though she was drained by taking on a crowd of rowdy cocks. Before a game her 'boyfriend's were markedly more brusque than on their "dates." It was pretty much an intense pregame throatfuck fest to get them pumped ful of testosterone and magical vitality. They used her mercilessly, riding her mouth, plumbing her throat with their thick drooling prongs, roughly tugging her poor clitty ring for her entertaining and satisfying slave cums, making her swallow their splooge as a point of pride while her belly bulged until she was in a bleary, drunkenlike state of frequently burping cute little cum bubbles and frequently having it come back up in small doses from being so full, causing Draco to clap at his teammates' antics.

One day as triumphantly the Slytherins strode out onto the pitch, Kreacher tended to Granger in the woods as he sometimes did. The poor girl had passed out exhausted from her hard work and the heavy cum meal she had been fed. When she uncomfortably spit up some cum on the mat the elf had transfigured under them, a silver dish appeared automatically to catch it and Kreacher woke his slave mudblood up enough to coax her to eat up the lost load.

"Good pig. Master Draco will be please slave keep every gift his friends give ye stupid dumb face," Kreacher cooed and stroked her face fondly. She had a nice belly on her now. Nice and full from serving Pureblood cock just like a good mudblood and properly exhausted from giving the Slytherin lords a charge up before their game.

A geyser of cold water hit her face, Kreacher cleaning her for his Master. "C'mon, lazy bones. Time to dress Master's beast for his victory."

Even after the earlier escapades his frends were once again taken by surprise by the form of their communal "grlfriend." She was a small but striking figure on all fours with her face grotesquely deformed by two sets of nosehooks and her tongue cruelly trapped sticking out between two cinched thin sticks of wood that dug into the corners of her mouth that acted as a gag, looked incredibly silly through the modified dog muzzle over her face. She had on a tight leather suit with holes for her tits, pussy, and arse. Her tits were cruelly clamped and weighed down with weights that looked like miniature broomsticks and were holding up a silver banner with green letters that read, "Slytherin Victory!" His friends couldn't quite believe the freak their friend had on the leash and wanted to start drinking in celebration and putting some massive fucks into its skull as had become habitual, but Draco was overcome at the sight of his pig all dressed up and decorated to play with him and he excused himslf and his pet because he wanted to celebrate with his fuckpig alone.

Seeing her dressed up so obscenely and restricted in front of his mates while feeling through the morse code of their bond throbbing like the ghost of her spasming arse on his cock that her acute humiliation, despite her passivity, only increased her desire inside to be a helpless cumpig and unthinking chattel like a real beast, his cock hardened and throbbed painfully. He could feel her instinctive sensitivity and preoccupation on how her actions would affect his cock while toiling in fields or doing homework, she constantly considered his cock and was always surprising him with the most tender and original ways to suck him and shower it with her love. He could feel her selfless consideration now. He was quite riled up. He felt charged by people seeing what a complete dick-relieving tool the buttoned-down head girl was reduced to by him in service to his cock. He felt charged by the win. He felt charged by having his ridiculous-looking animal so close and it feeling so right. He felt charged by the total cock haze overtaking her human mind commuicated through the empathetic pulsations of the bond that whispered to his turgid cock, "Destroy pig. Blast mudblood shithole."

That night under the moon Draco throttled his fuckpig while reaming her arse and beat her within an inch of her life with a cane. When he was finally through with her, he had Kreacher put her away in the stables and left her to recover for a few days there the muggle way.

It was strange how normal it felt to be put away in the dark, hay-filled stall surrounded by other animals. It should've felt scary and degrading and tedious and confiningly oppressive, but it felt like a place of nourishing rest where she could concentrate her mind on nothing more than the overwhelming sensations of her sore body. She looked forward to the scant, mild salve Kreacher would rub onto her battered udders. On the second day of her recovery he fitted her in a leather bondage outfit that constrained her on all fours and gently recommensed a spanking regimen on her naughty bits and she had a violent slave cum. She was surprised to hear the elf's encouraging words as he continued to softly whack her little-finger sized clit right through her excruciating cum, "Good pig coming from your beating. Be a good pig who comes from her beatings." He didn't let up the soft whacks but they became slower and harder as the pig tightened up and moaned some of her cries. With one final hard THWACK she came again, convulsing in her restraints like an obscene bucking bronco. "Good mudblood. You learn to love the stick. It very intimate with mudblood. New lover." He kept up but went back to soft whacks and Hermione found herself rolling in agony and ecstasy all afternoon as the house elf treated her to his version of sweet talk, "That's it greedy cumpig. Take another slave cum on your ruined clit for Master. You is making good paintoy. Tell me to beat the pig! Ask for stick!"

As much as his house was treating him like a king after the game and being generous with their pieces of tail, and he indulged particularly in the crop of recenly cultivated pretty students outside his generously made up of mubloods that his friends had recently acquired, he still had need of his pig but was not ready for her to return to being human yet. He had Kreacher hood and ring gag her before visiting the stables and feeding the restrained beast his cock and using her throat to milk some loads out of him like a simple cock socket and invariably clean his dirty dick. Hermione could taste that her Master came to her frequently from a fresh arsefuck and cleaned it like a simple beast. He said nothing to her, just fed her the loads he had worked up without having his most competent dickwringer nearby, and left.

She stayed in the stables for four days.

Hermione knew it was strange she was not bothered by being put away in the stables. In fact she felt like she was relaxing into a new state of being where she was free to think about nothing but her Master's cock and her sensitive throbbing body. Sometimes she felt shivery rewarding tingles from her clit tag and sometimes sharp little shocks. There was an expanding physical awareness of the her Master's cock through the bond as if to compensate for the prolonged physical distance so that there was this constant sense of her Master's arousal, aggression, and sexual amusement that she could draw out if she focused on it, strangely sensing his feeling through her arse as if his prick was somehow up there and her arse was a kind of mood ring. Sometimes it even felt like his dick was really there, chugging away or even just resting in her arse and sometimes her throat.

Times like those made her feel so content with where she was and happily sleepy and she readily adapted to living for those happy times and the times he or her other boyfriends came by to feed her some cum. Kreacher hooded her and gagged her each time for their use but her perception of their dicks and dick in general had grown so complex and sensitive that she had no trouble differentiating between all of them. She loved servicing cock from her stall. Her boyfriends were not as uncommunicative as her Master and she was surprised and pleased that playing with their livestock 'girlfriend' seemed to bring out their gentle, praising side independently of each other. Blaise liked to tell her she was beautiful while gently stroking and cradling her half hooded face and feeding her the fat knobhead of his cock through the ring and gently coaxing her, "Suckle my knob. Kiss it with your tongue. It's so nice to feed an animal like you, Hermione. Drink it, baby."

Cum spurted everywhere, messily shooting the back of her throat, quickly filling up her mouth, and spewing out around the ring.

"That's it, baby. Don't give up now. Feed." Blaise rubbed his throbbing knobhead all over the huge-ring gag with gentle humps, reveling in the warm, wet chamber he was playing in, feeling currents and bubbles and gasping hot breath from the hobbled pig doing it's best to feed.

He usually brought her a delicious chocolate or very small ripe fruit, an actual human treat to reward his very messy animal.

Theo, on the other hand, loved feeding her the fuckpig treats Kreacher made for her. One of his favorite things to do with the little livestock dickpleaser who was a 'girlfriend' to his cock was to place some treats on his prick and try to snake his cock down her throat feeding her all of them. It was messy and she choked regularly and spewed disintegrated slave treat all over the bottom half of her face and her chest but she honestly had to say she didn't dislike it. She felt well-rewarded, tingling from the effects of the treats she was happy to eat. It made it better to have to work hard for the treats and she had to work hard to let Theo stuff them down her stomach. He liberally would pour more into her mouth and see if he could use his dick to cram them down, carefully snaking his cock all the way down with incredible expertise and strength. Hermione did her best not to gag and eat her treats feeling like a good little pig.

"Let me feed you your reward, slave...you earned so much... Eat your bisquits."

She actually felt him kiss her forehead through the hood one time after he'd made her mouth a crumby, cummy mess.

"I wish you could join the Nott herd."

And Goyle came around to give himself incredible, hour-long dick sucks with the fuckpig's restrained head, initiating with the pouring of his saliva into her ringed mouth in a prolonged spit kiss with instructions to keep it in her mouth, then pushing his prick in her flooded orifice, and using his hands on her head to go for an hour-long ride. Afterwards, he pet her at length and laid out some of his troubles confiding in her and praising her and saying things that almost made her blush like, "Just like Draco to have the best bitch."

Kreacher praised her for the anal heart-flowers that proliferated overnight out of her arse and part of her glowed from the acknowledgment of her accomplishment but another part of her was saddened Draco didn't pluck them himself and instead had the elf deliver them to him. She would feel an intense, shivery vibrating sensation in her arse resulting in a slave cum that told her Draco was 'snuffing' one of her bouquets with his piss, each time feeling a little less of herself in a way that would've been difficult to describe.

At the end of the fourth day, Hermione was finally returned to their suite of rooms, albeit still in her livestock bondage outfit with her feeding sack attached as she was munching away placidly. Draco continued what he was working on ignoring her before getting a cane and laying into Hermione's tits without saying a word.

Hermione was unexpectedly overcome by the attention of her Master, finally! This was the most intimate interaction between them for the last four days besides her dedicated hoover of his dick and cum and it felt fantastic to have all this attention from him.

"Beat them! Beat my udders, Master! Beat me with – arh! - your stick!" She called through her feed sack and reflexively shook her tits in an enticing manner as Kreacher had trained her to do.

Beat them he did.

Draco whacked the heck out of those plump, sagging orbs with a long stick, wanting to freshen her fading bruising and put her to the test and she suffered and thrilled as he put her through the ordeal of painful indignity. Then he pushed her head down on the floor and pushed his cock in her arse.

Hermione started to cry she was so happy and felt such relief to have her Master's dick finally in her arse again after such a long time and became only more hysterical when she finally had and was allowed to have a slave cum, blubbering her gratitude still stupidly muffled by the sack.

She was vibrating and twitching and crying long after she came.

Draco vanished her bondage outfit and collected her into his arms, holding her, admiring her tits ,and holding her firmly by the slave clit. He spent much of the evening welcoming Hermione back to human life by making out with her on his lap and manipulating her into constant slave cums. He called her his slave-stock and his donkey-pig. He told her the other guys were jealous his girl was so well stable-trained.

"Merlin, Granger, you're a good little animal! And now once again the Malfoy family has secured for itself the finest in mudblood fuckpigs. You're my proud, little donkey-pig, aren't you?" he asked, vanishing her feed-sack.

"Yes, Master, I love it when you beat your proud donkey-pig."

"I hope you know you've had a right uplifting effect on Slytherin and the guys. I'm very proud of you."

She went to sleep in Draco's arms and dreamed of pleasing him from a stall, a party's worth of trash stuffed in her arse.

Chapter 12:

Draco loved using his "dustbin" and expanded her service with some enchantments and spells to make her responsible for the result of the entire castle's invisible sweeping, dustings, and scraps on a regular schedule. Right before breakfast, lunch, and dinner Hermione sought privacy, if it was allowed, and pliantly if reluctantly offered up her arsehole as a receptacle for the immense enchanted dustpan to be stuffed with dusty, grimy, gritty garbage. She hated the feeling. It made her body feel so wrong and uncomfortable. But her solace was great as well. As her body felt alien, gritty, and dry in her insides, and fundamentally defiled with filth, it in a way allowed her more fully to focus on Draco's feelings. His smugness watching her waddle wincingly into the Great Hall forty-five minutes late for her meals. The hardness of his cock upon seeing her relatively lumpy, bloated belly and her mincing, defeated waddle and the knowledge she was ingesting, tolerating, and melding with the castle's trash at his directive: becoming literal trash for her Pureblood Master.

Even worse before parties now he often paused Hermione's regular four times a day garbage pick-up and gave her the saved-up amount, sometimes days' worth, right before heading to the party, enticing her with a cane as she needed it. He began feeding her garbage too, which she ate slavishly, in tearful desperation from the much-too-full grittiness gumming up her body. She ate wrappers, napkins, scrapings, food scraps, and crumpled parchment like a pet getting a treat, so fearful was she that the trash would be shoved in her monumentally over-extended arse if she did not munch and ingest it satisfactorily for her Master. She felt even more like human garbage than ever before and she had thought that was impossible. The bitter, unnatural, unwieldy daily wastes became part of her being and she showed for her Master she was his grateful, undeserving little pet by eating offered trash like savored treats because she knew it made his dick hard. Sometimes she'd have made an entire bouquet of heart flowers by the end of the night. It was a crowd favorite to watch the exhausted, stuffed mudblood turn electric with orgasm as a crowd of yellow streams, as Draco generously shared the privilege, extinguished the healthy crop of delicately beautiful flowers he plucked from her arse.

One day Draco took Hermione out on a date, the kind she was allowed to dress up like a human for. Draco acted like a gentleman. He opened doors and held out chairs for his mudblood. He patted her belly and was solicitous about her discomfort and easy with his praise for the sight of the bulge he had created by her regular garbage use in her otherwise slim body and how much it aroused him. He teased her and playfully slapped her belly in the carriage. "My little mudblood recycling center." It was true she was his recycling center, though once again she was surprised he knew the muggle reference. She'd realized the other day that she'd been being trained to use the bathroom out of doors since the night she'd first been used as a living trash can and when she did her business outdoors she pissed like normal but she shit beautiful, ethereal flowers that were taking over and changing the landscape of the school with wild, achingly beautiful flowers that seemed to draw to the school grounds over time a diversity of other hauntingly beautiful yet gloomy plants. Now that she thought about it Draco or Kreacher hadn't allowed her an indoor shit for months, nor a piss. She was sent outside like an animal. She had a duty "to plant flowers" according to Kreacher one day after it had been already going on for a while.

Despite how it made the weirdness inside her resound and reverberate through her body, she enjoyed her Master's too rough attention to her roiling belly on their special date, especially as he was telling her how sexy it was to see her bump and how the trash had transformed her perfect body, how good she was being at being his trash receptacle. He spanked her belly the entire way in the carriage, placing her hands around his dick first. "Ha, ha! That is a hard lump in your stomach," he remarked kneading and batting it with his hands roughly.

"Please churn it up inside me, Master. Turn me into your trash compactor.

"Okay, Hermione, I'm going to punch it a little before we get to the restaurant," he said pulling up his fists. "Oh yeah I can feel it denting in from every angle I go. Good mudblood," he praised as the pig endured his relatively soft yet firm barrage of punches. "Take it. Let me mash it up."

Hermione wasn't very hungry and felt strange being offered such gourmet food, though Draco did insist she try a few bites of different things and she confirmed they tasted delicious. Still, it was strange and uncomfortable feeling them plop into the gritty dustbowl of her overflowing trash-stuffed stomach.

In the carriage he had gotten a full description from the intelligent, articulate mudblood of how unnatural, consuming, and uncomfortable it was feeling trash moving around in her body while he spanked and then gently and then moderately and then roughly punched her belly. He had even recorded this part of their date with wizarding film to watch later.

"Well, Hermione, I brought you out here tonight to tell you it is time for you to serve me in a new very important and special way. You will be relieving me - relieving my cock - in a wholly different way. Do you understand? You're going to be my toilet. It's time. There's no going back. My cursed cock will deem you its convenient pipe and your existence will be that much more ancillary to my comfort and pleasure."

Hermione started to cry. She didn't understand why this was affecting her like this. She wanted to give Draco everything, but somehow this was too much to bear. First, she was a literal garbage and now she was going to be a real toilet. She was no longer a girl. She was wholly a thing. It sickened her even as she felt her masochistic pussy flood and spasm.

When she looked up she could see Draco smiling wolfishly down at her, eyeing her already bloated belly he had given a thorough going over on the carriage ride over with possessive and smug anticipation of pissing in it.

"Couldn't we continue on without that?" asked Hermione hesitantly, unable to say out loud "without piss drinking."

"You're already taking the whole castle's rubbish. Surely my piss is more welcome than that!"

"Yes, Master," she said meekly, rears flowing freely down her face.

"Cry as much as you want, mudpig. It's a very meaningful step in your slavery. Not just a symbolic gesture at your abandonment of dignity as a person but a fundamental change in who you really are as a being who is sustained, except when you begin breeding, by her Master's piss. Your body and soul will become further subordinate to me and my will, and my pleasure will be yet more paramount and the magic will make you even more lesser than I while making me even stronger. Don't you want to give me that? That's it. You should cry. You won't ever be the same."

Draco had planned to give Hermione a romantic night out without his usual antics and in consolation to get her used to the idea of losing what was left of her humanity: becoming a toilet for him. However, after the foreplay in the carriage of playing roughly with her garbage bulge while she spoke in detail about her physical and spiritual anguish, discomfort, and wrongness, he found himself all too eager to see her even more uncomfortable with her belly expanded even more as his after-dinner dessert.

It was all too addicting having a fuckpig like Hermione.

She nodded but continued to cry.

They went for a walk through the lamp-lit streets of Hogsmeade after dinner. Draco gave Hermione a lot of praise for her progress as a slave and had many kind, thoughtful words for her. Then he made her get on her knees on some grass in the shadows, indicating it was time for the next part of her life to begin.

He had been going to wait but he didn't see anymore why he should. He had to wee like a motherfucker and he had a toilet right here.

He'd been unconsciously holding it to give to her and, even though he meant to give her a little time and space to process her new role, all he could think about was why should he use a cold, impersonal one when he had a soft, warm one available to him right now.

Draco fully saddled up to his new commode, snaking his whole, long elephant trunk of a cock past her pliant mouth, pushing his fat cockhead steadily all the way down past her throat and popping into her stomach, compacting some dusty, gritty trash in order to make room for itself. He could feel her throat squeezing his shaft and his hands came around her throat and he squeezed his cock by choking her.

Then suddenly he was blasting piss at point-blank range in her already trash-stuffed stomach, causing Hermione to recoil startled by the force and power of the blast of piss, which immediately started burning her stomach walls.

"Uuuuuuuuuhh, yeahh," Draco mumbled pleasantly at the feel of his velvet cockcase toilet. He let out a prolonged grunting sound.

Hermione moaned painfully around the dick from the force of the blast, the inflating fullness, the burning only increasing the pleasure of her user.

Draco easily ignored her as he let loose in the inferior being who would now find succor from his waste, and his piss surged forth, saturating the immense gritty contents of her stomach, expanding her stomach cavity even more as he turned it into a piss sack, and giving her a nauseous sloshing feeling. They both felt her stomach transform into his flexible, tender, taut piss tank and forced to stretch more and more to accommodate the vast quantities of rapid, concentrated urine he let out into her. She could feel the violence of his reverberating jet in her innermost places nailing her sorry stomach sac.

He's making it bigger, she thought. He's making my stomach so much bigger, inflating me with his piss, Hermione thought alarmingly.

At the same time, she could feel it like a thick skin she was sloughing an indefinable part of her humanity melting away in order for her to become something else and then she had reached a state where she was aware of nothing more than the insurmountable crisis in her stomach as Draco inflated her belly like his filthy hot air balloon.

Draco had never felt more pleasure before in his life. The feeling of her tight throat sleeve squeezing and massaging him as he emptied his full bladder with all the force he could muster from his supernaturally gigantic cock straight into her warm stuffed belly. His cock saturated the refuse and expanded her belly hilariously, making him feel well-accomplished. The image before him of Hermione Granger becoming a living sac of his piss was making him very hard and made it difficult for him to continue pissing.

He let his hands wrap around her bulging throat and throttled her neck without thinking to squeeze the reluctant piss from his cock determinedly. Then he finally came and was able to piss more freely once again into his mudblood. When at last he felt his powerful stream begin to ebb then dribble, he throttled her some more until he had given her every last drop.

She was so unworthy that she was letting a man, her Master, piss in her. She was so pathetic letting her Master turn her into a waste-filled water balloon for his comfort and enjoyment. Her stomach was stretching and stretching as a deluge of piss further stuffed her body. She was trash. Her body was trash for a Pureblood Prince. She was his waste receptacle. She deserved to feel pain and shame, she knew. It was natural and right she house and store all of his piss no matter how her gut had to expand to accommodate all of his powerful, coursing river and she gave herself over in body and spirit to submitting to and accepting his piss, morphing into a kind of agonized lust for her Master to keep making her drink it and even convulsing her throat in big gulps eager to please and encourage the mighty spigot impaled in her stomach. Tears fell freely from her eyes in self-loathing and defeat but also a kind of gratitude and helpless lust. She was a toilet. She was her Master's toilet.

Draco was glad he'd had so much piss to give her. He could see the gallon or few he'd unloaded in the sheer size of her belly and her acute discomfort. Her stupidly and ridiculously bulging belly was the sexiest sight for Draco. He whipped his anaconda-like cock from her throat with no ceremony and felt unsurpassed relief, magically stoppering all his piss to stay in her heaving, rebellious belly as his cock landed right back down thwacking his fuckpig over the face where it lay triumphantly over its new toilet as he stood admiring his handiwork: its huge, writhing, silly-looking whale of a bulge where her trash-pudgy belly had been, its drooling, half-lidded zombie expression mostly covered by his slimy cock, the addictively pathetic guttural moans groggily issuing from its top orifice. It was made to carry his piss and garbage, to lug it around for its Pureblood Master, to have its slender body destroyed as the safekeeper of his nasty filth for pleasure and entertainment.

"Good mudblood." He kicked her belly with his booted shoe. He couldn't help himself and hardened to full staff at the sounds she made. He kicked it again and again, trying different spots. "That's so sexy," Draco complimented. "I love my new toilet," he said, still kicking and admiring the giant duffel bag-looking thing.

It was true. The reality of turning his mudblood schoolmate and war heroine Hermione Granger into the keeper of his piss was one of the best and headiest feelings he had ever experienced. He knew it was where his piss was meant to go and he could feel her body through their wonderful bond accommodate him through changes. Never had he imagined feeling such dominion over another living thing, let alone a genius war heroine whose extraordinary traits only made her a better slave. The especially considerable Malfoy cock required much more than the average cursed cock in order to find fulfillment and Draco had found the prize pig.

Draco could easily imagine himself with a slave as a wife because it suited him to have no boundaries or impositions between himself and the being he had molded to be his cursed cock's worthy reliever. With the piss drinking, he found his monster cock had unlocked another level of its own appeasement and he felt magically congratulated.

On the other hand, Hermione's agony had transported her to a reality narrowed down to the sensation of Draco's pissing in her and filling her already stinging, ready-to-burst stomach. There was no room for Hermione the once-student, only the personal toilet and sac of piss to her Master.

Merlin had he done a number on her! She was a mess. She looked like such a piss-bloated pig, he thought, getting hard again. Hilariously his large-gutted piss-pig was trying to thank him while writhing and moaning on the ground in the grass in acute discomfort.

"Come on, pig. Don't fall on the ground. Show my cock how thankful you are."

Agonizingly, slowly, the animate sac of piss crawled on the ground from where its Master had kicked and wobblingly and tearfully made its way onto its knees with its immense belly sticking far out, causing Draco to chuckle over and over again at the show. His mammoth cock was so long that Hermione has no trouble, despite the enormous bulge she now carried, reverently kissing her Master's cock, at first slowly but gradually working up gusto despite her physical misery, showing her gratitude, so great was the pull of her Master's organ. She peppered the humungous and warted organ that dwarfed her arm with sweet, earnest, passionate kisses and tongued the cock all over while sucking on this or that spot passionately.

"I can feel Master's piss becoming me. I'm my Master's soiled piss. My body! Oh!" she got caught up saying words she thought would please him.

Draco marveled at the servility of mudbloods.

"Show me what a good mudblood you are, toilet. Turn around and bend that big belly over, stick it out, and squat. Spread your ass! That's a mudblood." Draco battered his rearing log-dick into the depths of his whale-bellied mudblood and hammered away until he found brusque relief while Hermione bent and squatted without dignity on a lawn near a dark building where anyone who walked by or looked out a window could watch her defilement as an arm or leg sized appendage from an impeccably dressed wizard violently ravaged the arsehole of a ridiculously shaped and positioned beached whale.

Afterwards Draco surprised Hermione with attire of bands of leather and metal that fit constrictively over her heavily bulging belly almost like a corset or body-muzzle that connected to her clit leash. She couldn't help but cry out and moan like a dying animal as the piss inside of her threatened to burst out of her skin and Draco tugged on the attached reins.

A toilet didn't need to see or have a face so he put a hood over half her face including her nose.

"Marvelous," Draco said, watching the suffering of his pissed-in pig, squirming and grunting in sweaty agony as he tried out the reins and watched the elaborate woven bandages compress and constrict like a finger trap punishingly on her taut, overblown body. He summoned a long switch and used it to direct her to walk to a nearby shop where Kreacher had ready for their beast a large cart filled with heavy supplies. The elf was very helpful and had made himself very useful in the castle by taking on the responsibility of acquiring many of the commonly used supplies.

Draco attached Hermione's chastisement dressage to the traces on the large, wide, heavily burdened open cart, bitted her, and took the driver's seat at the front of the glorified cart suddenly with reins in one hand that they shared with a long, heavy big wooden cane in the other.

Draco had an amazing time walking his mudblood home. Knowing she was bursting with garbage and piss for him, seeing her acute, writhing struggling and her taut, large bulging belly, knowing this was a mudblood heroine who he had made into his piss pig, whipping her ass, belly, pussy, tits for his amusement, watching her convulse in pain and occasionally one of her bitten off orgasms, sensing his piss sloshing around inside the warm vessel and corrosively burning and helping to break down the garbage inside her creating a bubbling, frothy, disgusting brew, he felt like he was the Master of the universe.

He yanked the reins and felt her agony like an intense constellation of pleasure in his cock, tingling with the waves and jabs of pain in his slave's stomach, and he felt ecstasy whacking her and whipping her as she trudged feebly like an overworked, dying mule to his amusement. His bitch's belly would have to stay trussed, he decided, as he wanted to make her a true compactor and disposal for all the waste he had her filled with and encourage her body to become one with it and let it become who she was and what she was made of while enjoying the effects of the fascinatingly painful belly bondage magically transformed into pure pleasurable sensations in his cock. She'd certainly be wearing restrictive corsets or dressage from now on, so long as he had her belly big on a steady diet of piss and garbage.

He stopped her once or twice on the way for another piss.