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/Slughorn.

~*~

Early the next day, Hermione slipped out of Gryffindor common room before most people were up. She hadn’t dared chanced going to the Greenhouses again after her encounter with Mr. Filch. The thought still left her feeling dirty and horny all at the same time.

Disgusted with herself, she ran as quickly as she could down the steps, her large breasts jiggling with every step. As much as she’d tried, none of her bras fit anymore. None of her clothes for that matter. Her shirts were too tight, leaving buttons gaping in the front over her massive boobs and her skirts were now scandalously short.

Holding her cloak tightly around her, she burst out of the castle and ran outright down to the Greenhouses. Thank goodness Professor Sprout liked early morning gardening before breakfast.

“Professor,” Hermione said, her cheeks burning as she clutched the piece of parchment she’d sketched the flower on.

“Oh my, Ms. Granger. What’s wrong?” the Herbology Professor asked, her eyes full of concern.

Hermione let her cloak fall open to reveal her porn star grade body. Holding out the sketch she quickly explained what the plant had done to her. She even told of her encounter with Mr. Filtch and how he now had the plant.

Professor Sprout studied the drawing and frowned. “I’m afraid I’ve never seen this plant before. But I’ll research.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Hermione asked, her pussy wet at the thought of all the boys in this school she could fuck. But her mind was horrified at the idea.

“Oh, Miss Granger,” Professor Sprout gave her a sympathetic look. “Let’s go to Professor Slughorn. He should be able to whip up a potion to help.”

Hermione nodded eagerly. Professor Slughorn was old, he’d been a potion master for ages. If anyone could help her, surely he could.

Wrapping herself in her cloak again, Hermione followed Professor Sprout down into the dungeons where they found Professor Slughorn still in his sleeping dress, brushing down his large walrus mustache as he answered his door.

“Just stay here,” Professor Sprout said, patting Hermione’s shoulder sympathically. “I’ll explain so you don’t have to.”

In that moment, Professor Sprout might have become Hermione’s favorite teacher of all time.

Fifteen minutes later, the Herbology professor came out beaming. “He wants to talk to you,” she said, “He thinks he can help you.”

Relief flooded Hermione as she stood. “Thank you so much, Professor.”

“Not at all,” she said, suddenly turning stern. “Now I’m going to go see Filch about this flower. Totally inappropriate.” With that she marched off.

Satisfied that this would soon be over and Filch would be punished, Hermione walked inside Professor Slughorn’s office.

“So, Miss Granger,” the old potion master said, clearing his throat. “Professor Sprout explained to me that you have an interesting problem. May I?” He said gesturing to her. When Hermione pulled her cloak tighter around herself, he chuckled. “Now, now, Ms. Granger, I must see the problem if I am to fix it. If you please,” he gestured again.

With some reluctance, Hermione let the cloak fall open.

“Take it off please,” Professor Slughorn instructed.

Pulling at the string of her cloak, it pooled at her feet revealing her in the scandalously slutty outfit that had once been her school uniform.

“Ah yes, I see,” the potion master said, pushing away from his desk to walk around her. His fat fingers brushed over her rounded ass, his fingertips skimming the bottom of her cheeks which barely peeked out before running up her stomach to brush along her breasts.

Instead of pulling away, Hermione moaned as her pussy gushed and her nipples became hard, jutting out under the thin white t-shirt.

“So sensitive,” he muttered. “Does this make you horny?” he asked, circling a finger around one hard nub. The simple gesture nearly caused her knees to go weak.

“Yes, Professor,” she gasped, her eyes hooded. “Can you help me?”

“Possibly,” Professor Slughorn shrugged noncommittally. “But why would I want to?”

Hermione’s eyes snapped in surprise.

Professor Slughorn’s smile spread, causing the corners of his large mustache to rise making him look oddly like a basset hound. “A slut ripe for the taking,” he hissed, his hands going to fist in her hair. “When Professor Sprout explained what had happened to you, all I could think was how many times I’d wanted to stuff my dick in your mouth just to make you shut up in class. Now look at you. So fuckable.”

“Profess-” Hermione’s whimper was interrupted.

“Get down on your knees, whore, and suck my dick,” Professor Slughorn ordered, using her hair to force her to her knees.

Pulling up his night shirt, his average sized, but very thick, cock sprang out. Hermione ran her tongue along the head of it before sucking the head into her mouth. She suddenly craved nothing more than to give her professor the best blow job of his life and slowly worked him into his mouth.

Professor Slughorn groaned at the feel of this teenager’s tongue on his dick. Looking down, he could barely believe his luck. So many times he’d dreamed of fucking these spoiled brats but had refrained for fear of retaliation. But when Professor Sprout explained the full extent of Hermione’s ‘problem,’ he’d known his time had finally come.

Gripping her hair harder, he forced his dick all the way into her sweet mouth until her lips kissed the base of his cock. His hips moved as he began to fuck her face.

“That’s a good little slut,” he crooned. “No need to be such a smartypants when your mouth can work such magic. How do you like having my dick in your mouth?”

She moaned around his cock, feeling dirty and hot all at the same time. He was old enough to be her grandfather but she wanted more of his dick. Her eyes watered as he fucked her throat.

“Want me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours, slut?” Professor Slughorn demanded.

She did, god she wanted this dick in her cunt so badly. It didn’t matter it was wrong. That this was her teacher and that he was taking advantage of whatever this plant had done to her. She needed to be fucked.

Pulling her off his dick, Professor Slughorn jerked her to her feet and bent her over his desk. His hands ran over her young, supple ass. “All you girls wearing these short skirts,” he groaned, slipping two fingers into her wet pussy, sliding them in and out until she withered. “Teasing. You know what you’re doing. I bet you all want ole Slughorn’s cock. Now you get it.”

Removing his fingers, he lined up his dick before ramming it home. He fucked her without mercy, holding her head down against his desk as he rode her young body as hard as he could.

“All just wanting me to fuck you just like this,” he groaned, the thought causing his balls to tighten. “I’ve been good but maybe it’s time to give you. What. You. Want.” With each word he slammed into her young cunt harder and harder. The idea of so many more pussies waiting for his dick was too much for him as he spilled his seed inside her.

Feeling his dick surging inside her, Hermione cam, her pussy clinching him and milking the professor for all he was worth. She was only beginning to understand the monster she may have unleashed on the poor girls of this school.

Yanking her by the hair, he pulled her head back and ran his mustache alone her sensitive neck. “You’ll not tell anyone about this, do you understand, slut?” he asked. It was only then that Hermione realized his wand was in his other hand as he cast a tongue-tying spell on her, ensuring that, anytime she tried to tell, her tongue to tie and nothing would come out.

“Go get some breakfast,” Professor Slughorn ordered, pulling out of her. “And look forward to when I take that sweet cunt again.”

Shame filled her as Hermione grabbed her cloak and ran from the room. To her horror, she realized he hadn’t even stripped her naked. He’d fucked her with her uniform on and she’d still cum.

“I am a slut,” she whispered running from the dungeon like the hounds of hell were at her heels. And in ways, they were. But she’d never run fast enough.

At the base of the Grand Staircase, she saw that some students were up and about. But it was the woman walking down the stairs that caught Hermione’s attentioned.

Professor Sprout came down now sporting an hour glass figure with massive breasts. Her usually wild hair was now slick and tamed and she looked younger. And totally fuckable.

It seemed that while Professor Sprout went to talk to Filch about the plant, Filch had unleashed the plant on the poor Professor.

This was confirmed as she watched Sprout grab a seventh year boy and pull him into a broom closet on the stairs.

Just like that, Hermione went from having everything getting set to rights to being completely on her own again.

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