Sweet is Revenge

Chapter 4: Sweet is Revenge

On the bed, the snake uncoils itself from Minerva and nestles around her as Minerva caresses her lover whose affection and snuggling are prolonging her sexual high.

Hermione, alone in her chair, has an ache in her center. Why isn't someone cuddling her? And she longs for the power that comes from the end of a cock.

Then the snake is gone, and Hermione senses a presence behind her. She gasps as jaws close around her neck. Teeth pull her to her feet and lead her around the bed. Hermione sees that Minerva is now sitting in the chair. A giant paw between Hermione's shoulder blades pushes her down on the bed with her feet still on the floor. She looks in the mirror: a frightened young girl is face down on the bed with a sleek lion with a black mane behind her.

I've always dreamed about a lion, thinks Minerva as her inner cat stirs.

In answer, the creature fixes its eyes on hers and invokes the ancient rites. Its eyes weave the dance of admiration: her face is in his dreams; her form is beautiful to him; her life is important to him; her spirit will walk with his. Its eyes weave the dance of supplication: let me honor both of you with tender affection; let me pay homage to you by loving your companion; let me worship your loved one for your sake.

Well, since you put it that way, thinks Minerva.

Hermione sees her mirror image become flushed and sweaty as it struggles to free itself from the paw. She struggles even more desperately when she notices that Minerva is watching the lion conquer her. But it's to no avail, and Minerva observes the languorous sadness of surrender and Hermione making no protest as one paw holds her and the other moves under her nightgown. The lion is majestic; his nostrils flare at her intimate scent.

Hermione watches her image as a paw disappears under her nightgown and finds an inner thigh. She watches her image first try to ignore the soft pads as they slowly stroke higher and higher on receptive legs, and then she watches her image as its face turns soft with sensuality and its eyes smolder with arousal. She notices the image make the small shifts that spread the legs wider, hears the lion make a throaty rumble in approval, and sees its paw move from her thighs to her auburn locks.

The mirror shows the lion change from pawing the girl's thighs to stroking her hair in a reassuring manner: she has been captured in a game of war; there is no way she can resist or prevent what is going to happen; it isn't her fault. The mirror reflects the girl's eyes as the final spark of resistance disappears from them. Minerva, the mirror, and the lion watch Hermione reach back and pull her nightgown up to her waist to reveal lace knickers and offer what witches have in them.

The girl pulls her nightgown up to reveal lace knickers filled with round softness, a round softness ready to receive the inevitable. There is a round, soft, rumbling growl from the lion. The image shows the lion returning to pawing legs that are opening wider.

The paw is between spread legs. The girl in the mirror gives a start as she feels claws on her inner thighs. They can shred her, but they are giving the lightest touch, almost tickling. The mirror reflects the lion drinking in the feel of the muscles and the bewitching shape, and the mirror reflects the girl as she tingles and squirms in time with the caressing claws. Slowly. Over and over. The girl and the older woman watch. The claws caress. Slowly. Over and over. The image in the mirror is breathing in short gasps. The mirror and the eyes reflect a growing, aching need. The girl watches herself reach back and push her knickers down. There is nothing between her and the lion.

Hermione puts her legs together to push her knickers down. The lion places one of her hands and then the other in the middle of her back and places his paw on them. She is a captive with her hands held together and her legs held together. The captive has permission to struggle. Minerva watches Hermione strain desperately to free herself. The moves remind her of Hermione writhing for her, and her hands cup her own breasts. The lion lets Hermione fight to free herself; he lets her fight to free herself of misdeeds. What happens will not be her transgression. When she pauses to catch her breath, he places himself where she is no longer guarded by lace. He pauses. The girl looks at the confident male in the mirror and knows she is his to have. Hermione gives Minerva a helpless look and asks forgiveness with her eyes that another is going to have her and it is what she wants.

The lion pauses. She feels him at her entrance. Minerva is watching. No matter that she offers herself, honor demands she resume her efforts. The lion lets her struggle like a good girl. No matter that her efforts cause him to slide into her, she continues the twisting, wiggling struggle that lets the lion mount the good girl. She groans with the effort, but the struggling and groaning become squirming and moaning. Minerva is watching; the lion is sliding in.

The lion slides into the innocent and guilt-free girl whose struggles get him deep inside her, who is struggling to get him deep inside her. She is wet and warm and inviting. He will not scorn her – not now, not ever. He nods approval at Minerva who is lovely in her sympathetic lust. She, too, is wet and warm and inviting. He will not scorn her either – not now, not ever. He thinks, Shame on him if he ever neglects them. What joy they offer with their competence, their wit, and their compassion. How lovely they are with their ambition and independence.

But now, their other side, behind closed doors: the soft, but strained grunts of a girl struggling against her captor – intermingled with the soft, but primal grunts of being mounted – mixed with the soft sighs of the on-looking lover.

But now, he mounts the ambitious and independent girl. She feels him inside. He confidently waits for her feminine surrender. Minerva thinks he is regal. Minerva observes the lion's countenance when mounting a woman is more expressive than the snake's. I want to see that look on my account. The next time, I get the lion I deserve.

Hermione and Minerva look at each other. They know the young girl will soon dance for the beast. She wants the beast to make her dance. Minerva feels a pang. When Hermione's hips begin rolling, the lion releases her hands, and her fingers grip the quilt. When the lion releases Hermione's hands, Minerva's hands move under her own nightgown. Minerva's nightgown is around her waist and her legs are apart. The familiar sight of the shapely legs and well-filled lace cause Hermione to purr. She remembers Minerva's dance as the beast became familiar with her inner kitten.

Directly or in the mirror, the girls witness the dance that acquaints Hermione with her inner kitten. The lion strokes the girl's hair and lets it be known that he is happy with the two women in the room and he will stroke no other kittens. In the midst of lust, he lets them know that he wants them as companions. Both witches see Hermione's surprise as the passionate part of the relationship takes control of her. Neither knew the young girl would perform like that. Neither knew that she would want to. Hermione's eyes seek the other woman's and ask her to be as happy for her as she had been for Minerva when she had been in the coils of passion. Hermione is in the coils of passion.

The lion rides the girl with his loins and drives the woman with his eyes. He has them both.

Minerva feels the same coil of passion as her young lover.

I tell you with certainty

As you do it for the least

You do it for me.

Minerva's face contorts; she smiles at the lion; she presses her legs together. The two on the bed are happy for her.

Hermione wants the enchanted time to last forever, but lust has its cycle, and her mind shuts down all thoughts and feelings not connected to coupling, not coupled to connecting. Only the lion and Minerva see her writhe, hear her cry out, and watch her fingers clutch the quilt. Hermione knows only desperate need followed by ecstasy. Minerva knows the young girl is drenching and clenching the beast as she did when it took her.

Hermione floats back to earth; she waits for the final act that will complete both her and the mating. Her body jerks with the final, sloppily wet coupling. The lion and girl are still. They celebrate his gushing and her reception that seals the bond.

Minerva watches the girl rock with the liquid slapping. Their eyes meet with that sublime mix of bliss and melancholy.

"Oh," goes Hermione.

"Rowr," goes the lion.

End