DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the “Harry Potter” characters. These stories are strictly for ‘entertainment’ purposes. Don’t sue me, I have no money.

WARNING: These stories are just fantasies but we’ll be dealing with mind-control, non-consent, public sex, and whatever else I want to right. Heed any warnings I put up. I’ll try to make each story in the series a stand-alone so if you don’t like something happening in it, you can just go to the next series. I will be altering facts to suit my purpose. This is Hermione’s 7th year. Book 7 hasn’t happened. So they’re all at the school. McGonagall is headmistress, Snape teaches DADA and was never seen killing Dumbledore, etc, etc, etc. Hermione is 17 years old in this and she’ll always be with older men, Lucius, teachers, etc. If that’s not what you’re looking for, this isn’t the story for you.

Coupling: Hermione/Filch

There is some mild bondage and spanking.

***

Hermione had done her best dressing. She’d had no choice but to dawn her uniform with its skirt, button up top and skirt. Her jeans were too tight now with her newly rounded ass, even the skirt was a good few inches too short now. The button-up blouse gapped over her breasts and her bras didn’t fit at all, so her sensitive nipples stuck out from under the silky material. Yet still, it hid them better than her t-shirts which fit more like babydoll tees now.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she sighed sadly. She looked like a porn star. It didn’t help that her lips had darkened in color to a natural red.

Picking up her school cloak, wishing with all her might she had Harry’s invisibility one, she clasped it around her shoulder and let it fall over her. It didn’t close completely around her but it hid her body better than anything else.

Grabbing the Orchid, hoping it wouldn’t awaken again even as her pussy tingled at the idea, and rushed out of her room, down the stairs and through the portrait hole of Gryffindor Tower.

The Fat Lady was asleep. The hall was quiet. Hermione felt very exposed as she rushed through the dark hallway, her Maryjane’s clicking on the stone floor. While she hated breaking the rules and being out after hours, surly they could understand this was an emergency. She had to get this orchid to Professor Sprout and have her remove… what it had done.

Listening to her cloak switch around her, brushing against her bare legs, she couldn’t help but feel like she was heading toward a midnight tryst. Why did that turn her on so much? What had this plant done to her?

She’d made it all the way to the third floor when she felt strong, bony fingers bit into her arm, jerking her back against a wall. She almost dropped the orchid.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” the high pitch, oily voice of Argus Filch, Hogwarts’ Caretaker and all around fowl man. Lifting his oil lamp he let the light fall on her face. “Hermione Granger?” His mouth widened in a yellow toothed smile. “Head Girl wondering around Hogwarts. For shame.”

Hermione’s heart pounded in her chest as adrenaline raced through her veins. “It’s an emergency,” she insisted but Filch was already dragging her down stairs toward his office.

“I’m sure it is. You and your friends think you’re above the rules,” Filch said. “Always running around after dark. Well I got you now.”

“I need to see Professor Sprout,” Hermione said, her voice desperate as she tried to pull her arm from his grasp.

“I’m sure you do,” Filch said, unlocking his office door and shoving her inside before him. “Let me guess, need her help with that plant.”

“Yes!”

“A likely story,” he said, closing the door behind him. “No respect. That’s what you students have. No respect.”

“Please, time could be of the essence,” Hermione begged, biting her lower lip as he took the orchid away.

“What kind of emergency does your pretty little flower have?” Filch sneered, setting the plant on his desk. “No soil?”

Standing there, worrying over her lip, Hermione realized that she wasn’t getting out of this without telling him. “It’s embarrassing…” she said, her cheeks heating.

Filch’s eyes sparkled with glee. Oh how he loved humiliating students. Leaning against his desk, he crossed his thin legs and watched her. “I have all night,” he said, wanting her to go on.

Bastard.

Knowing that seeing was believing, Hermione reached up and unclasped her cloak with as much dignity as she could muster. Feeling the heavy material fall from her shoulders and the cool air of his office crease her skin, she lifted her chin, not wanting him to see her embarrassment.

Her nipples hardened into little pebbles, peeking out from beneath the white uniform top. They were a dark pink and there was no way he didn’t see them.

Filch’s eyes darkened with lust as he watched this young, seventeen year old standing in his office with massive breasts that made his mouth water. Her skirt was scandalously short and there was no doubt she was off to fuck Potter or Weasley.

The image of this girl riding a cock, those beautiful breasts bouncing up and down enticingly, made his cock hard. Her words of everything the Orchid did to her spurred him on. He was so lost in his fantasy he didn’t noticed that the orchid behind him released a yellow pollen in the air.

He was so tired of these young pups getting all this prime piece of tail as they walked around, teasing him in their tight little tops and short skirts. Well not this time.

“I’m tired of you brats thinking you can break the rules,” Filch said, suddenly in front of her, pushing her back against the stone wall where he kept his well-polished manacles.

“What are you doing?” Hermione’s eyes went wide in horror as he grabbed her hands and forced them above her head and clamped the cold metal cuffs on her wrist. Her breasts looked even fuller with her arms held up like that.

“I think it’s time I show you just what it means to break the rules,” Filch said, his dick hard with the power of having this student strapped to his wall.

Ignoring Hermione’s protests, he reached up and jerked her shirt open, the buttons flying off as he exposed those delicious tits. “No bra,” he said. “You little slut. Look at those nipples. Already hard. I bet you’re wet too.”

To her humiliation, Hermione realized he was right. Her pussy was wet and tingling and begging to be touched the moment she’d started telling him what the orchid had done. Her mind rebelled against her body.

“Please…” she begged. “Please don’t do this.”

One of the caretaker’s bony fingers reached up and twisted her nipple, causing her to moan. “Your mouth says no but your body.” With his other hand, he reached up, rubbing her pussy, inserting one finger. “Your body says yes. Fuck me. I’ll make you beg for it first.”

“No,” Hermione protested.

His tongue flicked over her nipple. “Oh yes,” he said, his breath bursting against the sensitive nub. “You little slut, walking around in that skirt. You were hoping this would happen. Hoping old Filch would come across you, fuck you up against the wall.”

“No,” Hermione said, looking down at Filch’s balding head as his mouth ran over her tits. How could she be so hot for this grotesque old man with his greasy, stringy hair and bitter, lined face. As he sucked her nipple between his teeth and bit down, her hips bucked against his hand, forcing his finger to message her clit.

“You want old Filch to make you cum,” he said, a wicked gleam in his eye before forcing her to turn around to face the wall. The rough surface scrapped at her sensitive breasts. His hand caressed her perfect ass for a moment before swatting it.

“Ow!” Hermione cried, jerking against the wall but there was no where she could actually go.

“You know what happens to naughty girls?” Filch asked, his hand coming down again with a satisfying smacking sound. “Naughty girls who can’t follow the rules?” Smack. “Who roam the halls, looking” Spank. “for” Spank. “A good” Spank. “Fuck?” Spank.

“Please,” Hermione begged, no doubt that her ass was red.

She smacked her red ass again. “Please what?” he hissed in her ear, his fowl breath tickling her nose as his fingers crazed her sore ass before running down her crack to find her wet, hot pussy. His bony fingers played with her cunt, teased her.

“Please,” she moaned again.

She jerked him around to face him again. She noticed his worn, wool trousers were around his ankles. He must have taken them off while he was spanking her. His cock stood proudly from his body. A good seven inches but narrow like the rest of him. His fist pumped it.

“This what you want?” he demanded.

Hermione just nodded, her hips squirming with need.

“Say it,” he ordered, getting off having the head girl strapped to his wall, completely helpless to him. “Say you want my dick in your cunt. You want me to fuck you until you scream. Tell me what a naughty girl you are. Say my name.”

The words both disgusted her and made her unbelievably hot.

“F-fuck me,” Hermione stammered. “Please fuck me, Filch. I want your cock in my pussy. I want you to fuck me against the wall until I scream.” Once the dirty words started coming from her lips, they fell fast, and, despite herself, the imagery made her even hornier. “I’m just a filthy, naughty girl who needs you to teach me a lesson with your dick.”

Lust burned in his beady eyes as he grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Wasting no time, he drove his hard cock into her young pussy.

Hermione was slammed hard against the wall with each thrust of his cock as he took out his years of pent-up aggression out on her cunt. But she didn’t mind. In fact, she screamed, “Harder! Fuck me harder!”

Her large breasts pounded between them. All she could do was grip the chains over her head, completely at the Caretaker’s mercy.

“I’m gonna cum in this cunt,” Filch informed her.

“No don’t!” Hermione begged.

“Serve you right to get pregnant,” he snarled. “With a squib’s baby. Here it comes.”

She felt his cock surge inside her, spewing his seed. She couldn’t help it, it pushed her over the edge, coming as she jerked against him.

They were silent for a long moment as they enjoyed their momentary bliss before Filch pulled out of her. Reaching up, he undid the chains around her wrist.

“Get dressed,” He ordered, clearly done with her as he pulled up his pants. “And remember this next time you’re wondering the halls after hours.” The gleam in his eyes said he hoped she would.

As reality came back to her, so did her humiliation. Quickly dressing, ashamed of what she’d just done, Hermione went to grab the orchid.

“Leave the flower,” Filch snapped. “I’ve plans for that.”

“But-”

“I said leave it,” he shouted.

Feeling guilty over what sort of plans the Caretaker might have for that horrible orchid, Hermione reluctantly left it behind. She had to get back to her room and figure out something to keep her from getting pregnant. She was too ashamed to face Professor Sprout.

Hopefully she wouldn’t run into anyone else tonight. But what would she do tomorrow?

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