Girls’ Day In

Chapter 5: Girls' Day In

How in the world did they entice me into this? Hermione asked herself as she sipped her wine and enjoyed the shade and breeze of the outdoor café. They were in a remote part of the country, and all three were blondes for disguise, Narcissa naturally and Bellatrix and Hermione by charms.

"We are not going to foolishly throw our lives away," Lucius had announced before the morning practice. "We will have our wands, and if arrows and spears fail us, we will use them."

Hermione had been wondering what the centaurs would think when he had said, "No agreement with the centaurs or piece of land is worth losing any of us."

She had been thinking that was a great sentiment but had been questioning its value to her when the adult wizards had declared they needed to show the students the necessary deadly spells. Narcissa and Bellatrix had decided they would instruct Hermione while the wizards had taken Draco in hand. She had been certain that she would be a klutz but had discovered the game of skeet had improved her aim. It had been a matter of teaching her a one-syllable spell from the dark side that shriveled the insides, and it had been a matter of developing the necessary mental stamina that let her continue hurling the curse. When, quite literally, she no longer had the mental wherewithal to implode a pumpkin, they had returned to the physical discipline of bow-and-arrow practice.

How in the world did they entice me into this? Hermione asked herself again as they waited for their lunch to arrive.

"You look thoughtful, dear," said Bellatrix as she refilled the wine glasses.

"I was thinking wizard-skeet seemed an innocent pastime until it helped me throw those curses this morning," said Hermione.

"I thought most games came from combat," said Narcissa.

"There's Quidditch," said Bellatrix. "How many games have a set of balls just to hurt other players?" She reflected. "Or should I say, 'Have the balls to hurt other players'?"

"Overthrow of the Matriarchy," said Hermione.

"What?" asked Narcissa and Bellatrix.

"It's just something that popped into my head," said Hermione. "Does Quidditch celebrate the overthrow of some Matriarchy?"

"They 'score' by getting their 'balls' into this round opening," said Narcissa, "and it's done by 'chasers.' But they don't get many points. It's just the handmaidens."

"It's farfetched, but do beaters equal bangers," suggested Hermione. "No, wait. It's the final storming of the castle. They're the last ditch defenders. They can interfere, but their efforts get no points."

"We all know what the golden snitch represents," said Bellatrix. "One nails the queen, and the game is over."

"And we're all golden blondes now," said Hermione, giggling into her wine glass.

"Ah, yes, but who's the queen?" asked Narcissa. "Whose castle gets stormed?"

"No one is doing much storming these days," lamented Bellatrix.

"We could practice for the big day," suggested Narcissa.

Hermione smiled and nodded and then turned reflective. "If the big day ever arrives."

"Are you telling us the boys are as loutish as the men?" asked Bellatrix.

"You mean, the men are louts too," said Hermione with disappointment in her voice.

"We may have a long time to practice," said Narcissa.

They were musing about practice leading to perfection when the waiter arrived with their order of kabobs and another bottle of wine. Thoughts about perfection had the two adults thinking the youngster was odd-girl-out, and Bellatrix asked Hermione, "What are you doing in such evil company?"

"Well, ...," began Hermione, shocked by the question and too fatigued by the morning's practice to dissemble. The wine had its effect. "I'm having a good time," she announced.

"Are you saying our past doesn't bother you?" asked Narcissa.

"What do you want me to do, spank you?" joked Hermione.

Hermione thought the two older women were taking the joke much too seriously.

Bellatrix's eyes were shining. She placed her hand on top of Hermione's and said, "I'm game."

"We do want you to have a good time," said Narcissa.

Deeply touched, Hermione blushed.

The Black sisters decided the occasion would be intimate enough that they should go one-on-one with Hermione. They drew straws to see who would be first. It would be Bellatrix.

"You're looking thoughtful again," said Bellatrix.

"You're thinking that six months from now, we will face each other across a battlefield," said Narcissa.

Hermione nodded.

"It's the way of the warrior," said Narcissa.

Halfway through her kabob, Hermione noticed a pair of adoring eyes and felt a set of toes on her calf. She gave the oldest Black sister a friendly smile.

Bellatrix moved closer to Hermione and whispered, "Have you always been a good girl?"

Hermione nodded.

Bellatrix continued, "Being a good girl is meaningless if there're no bad girls. It's an empty and lonely existence for nothing." Bellatrix breathed more fumes of enlightenment. "You're missing out. You're letting a whole area of knowledge slip away from you."

Hermione processed the new thought. Bellatrix licked her ear.

"Besides, no one need know that you have acquired a vast amount of information, that by your own initiative you have broken free of artificial restrictions."

Bellatrix checked that no one was looking and waved her wand for a concealment spell. She took the girl's right hand and placed it under her skirt, just above her knee. Hermione gasped at the feel of the older woman's smooth skin and firm muscles.

"Do you like that?" asked Bellatrix. "I like it. Did you ever think that both would like it?"

Bellatrix leaned closer. "Were you thinking of spanking me, my dear? What would you like me to wear? I have on black silk that will move and ripple as I twist under your punishment. It contrasts with my pale skin and shows my round shape. But would you prefer dark purple? I will be face down and spread eagled for you. You can make me put a pillow under my hips that presses against me and excites me as I squirm from your lashes."

Hermione looked into deep, dark eyes, and her will turned to water.

Bellatrix nuzzled Hermione. "I will guide you. I will teach you how to make your wand vibrate and how to flick it to sting." Bellatrix licked her lips. "You are new to this. You will begin, and you will be fascinated by the sight of a woman moving under your ministrations, but when you hear me start to moan and see the beginning of surrender in my eyes, you will speak the release word and stop. Freed of my bonds, I will pull you down to sit on the bed beside me. I will comfort you and reassure you. When you are ready to continue, I will go back to being bound – helpless before you."

Hermione's eyes were wide. Her hand slid up to where Bellatrix's thigh became rounder.

Bellatrix nibbled her ear. "Reassured, you flick your wand in a considered and measured manner. You vary the cadence until you find the one that causes my whole body to move sinuously. My lips part. I'm moaning. You notice I'm aroused, and the dominant, animal wells up inside you. Your wand flicks and flicks; you didn't know you would receive such deep pleasure from making me wiggle for you."

Hermione's hand moved nearly to the junction of the older woman's thighs. Bellatrix's breath in Hermione's ear felt warm and humid; the space under her skirt felt warm and humid.

"I'm crying out and straining against my bonds. My face is strained and contorted. You lash at me with your wand, not believing what is happening, not believing you're doing this. My muscles tighten. You see my thighs quiver. I groan and lie still. The black silk between my legs becomes shiny with its wetness."

Bellatrix's lips were on Hermione's. Her tongue was in her mouth. Bellatrix cupped the young girl's breast and massaged it in time with the hand under her skirt. The older woman's hips rolled. Her kisses devoured the young girl. Her muscles tightened. She groaned into the mouth of her partner. Her thighs quivered. Hermione held the older lady as Bellatrix's skin became flushed, her muscles became soft, and the black silk between her legs became seriously damp.

Hermione cuddled the woman who had become special to her.

Hermione noticed that Narcissa had moved closer. Her nostrils were flared, her eyes looked shiny and feral, and she said, "Perhaps we could retire to the privacy of the manor." Narcissa placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder. The young girl saw the bestiality in the elegant face and the claws in the aristocratic fingers. She shivered in anticipation.

Back at the manor, Narcissa poured a measure of potion, dropped a long coarse hair into it, and said, "Let me see if I can do something special." A minute later, the other two witches were facing Fenrir halfway into a transformation.

The eyes of the Fenrir-Beast raked Bellatrix.

Unfair, pouted Hermione. She's had more time to develop her breasts. Mine are worth considering. Even Harry sometimes stares at them.

The Fenrir-Beast flashed a toothy grin. Bellatrix gasped and stepped back.

Sure, thought Hermione. Go for the obvious beauty with the sultry eyes. Her hair is just as frizzy as mine. So what if she's got the cutest ass in the British Isles. I bet I'm tighter and firmer where it counts.

The predator growled. Bellatrix emitted a shriek.

A siren call of lust, thought Hermione. Pretend to run, dearie, so you can wag your tail.

Bellatrix did turn to escape, with the Fenrir-Beast watching appreciatively.

Don't just stand there like a dumb beast with your tongue hanging out, thought Hermione, fascinated by the fluid flow of fabric following the fleeing fair Frau.

Hermione growled. Catch her for me. I mean, catch her for us. Oh, hell, you know what I mean.

The Fenrir-Beast was on the scurrying lady, the impact carrying them to the bed. Bellatrix squealed. They wrestled – lusty grunting, blouse ripping open, skirt riding up.

I can help, thought Hermione, feeling tension grow behind her navel – not sure, exactly, which one she wanted to assist or how.

The grunting became moaning. The tussling became undulating. The Fenrir-Beast had pinned the flushed and panting witch. Hermione sat on the bed, entranced. The Fenrir-Beast extended its long, almost prehensile tongue. It went under the silk and caressed a breast. Hermione watched the material fold around the snake of a tongue as it circled and fondled the lovely mound. Bellatrix tilted her head back. The Fenrir-Beast drew back to admire a lovely face becoming soft. The tongue tended the other breast – moving under the silk like an obscene creature from the erotic deep while Bellatrix weaved like an obscene creature. Her skirt rode higher, and the Fenrir-Beast came up between spreading legs until milady gasped when an obscene creature prodded the thin material covering her erotic deep.

Hey, I'm here, too, thought Hermione.

Then Hermione felt the Fenrir-Beast in her head as it searched for her equivalent memories. She traveled back in time. There were flashes of Ron and Lavender snogging in the common room, memories of the lonely fifth year, and recollections of the Yule Ball with the short innocent snog afterwards. The Fenrir-Beast stepped forward through the next two months until it located the February evening behind a greenhouse. Her blouse was open and his hand was on her knee as they had been for the last two weeks, but this evening his lips nibbling her lace-covered breasts seemed particularly sweet. His hand moved higher than she had allowed before. She was exhausted from her friends fighting and their reluctance to take her advice, and she needed the attention and the consolation. His lips were on hers, his tongue was in his mouth, and his hand was feeling its way up the sensitive skin. She tried to close her legs but his hand held them open and kept climbing and it felt so good and she wanted to be wanted and she opened her legs and she gasped as his fingers trailed across her now damp garment and she tried to squeeze her thighs shut but his hand was still there and stroking the spot she thought only she knew about and it kept stroking and she moaned and spread her legs and two fingers slipped under the cotton and into her and she was trying to say no while her hips matched his rhythm and soon she was groaning and arching her pelvis with her desperate need and there was an explosion behind her eyes and her knees buckled as she clenched and soaked his fingers.

Hermione returned to the present to discover her own hand in her knickers and keeping time with Bellatrix wiggling on the rod prodding hers.

I'm not jealous, Hermione told herself as she watched the hand-claw rip away the impeding garment. It flew over its shoulder to land on the floor.

It's a wonder it didn't go splat, thought Hermione.

Then the Fenrir-Beast was in Hermione's mind again, and she could feel Bellatrix parting for her. Never in her life did Hermione believe she would push into slickness and sink into silkiness, that she would come out of the cold and enter warm coziness while a lovely lady moaned. Hermione's pelvis thrust forward and she moaned in symphony - the universe moving in harmony.

Hermione wanted a cock. She wanted to mount a lusty Bellatrix, wanted to spread a willing Narcissa, wanted to ride an eager Ginny. She wanted to feel them parting for her, wanted to hear the way they moaned, wanted to see their faces in the grip of coupling.

Now, she could see Bellatrx in the grip of coupling – enthusiastic coupling with her pale skin and round shapes spreading and squirming as the Fenrir-Beast pressed against her and aroused her while she moaned and her face contorted and the wiggling became more intense until all control was lost and Bellatrix smiled and her thighs squeezed and she cried out and was still. Hermione watched the Fenrir-Beast enjoy Bellatrix in orgasm.

The Fenrir-Beast gave Hermione a big toothy grin and licked its chops. Hermione grinned and licked her chops. The Fenrir-Beast was in front of the young girl, pulling her knickers off and tossing them over its shoulder.

I really didn't hear them land, thought Hermione.

The hand-claw ripped off her blouse and top.

My breasts, my perky breasts. Tongue them, thought Hermione, but the Fenrir-Beast growled and Hermione Granger blushed with excitement as her knees parted to display smooth inner thigh and engorged nether lips

She saw the nostrils of a long and hairy snout flare as it took in her sex reek. She gasped as the long snout prodded her intimate self.

Yes, oh yes, tongue that, thought Hermione.

It did.

"Yah!"

Keep control, girl, Hermione told herself.

It did it again.

"Yah!"

The Fenrir-Beast gave tongue; Hermione gave tongue.

Go, wolfie, go, cheered Bellatrix.

As it peaked and became almost unbearable, Hermione imagined Lucius between her legs with his eyes watching her as his tongue drove her wild.

I give you your Indian names, thought Bellatrix, Parsel-Tongue and Dances-With-Wolves.

Bellatrix watched Hermione have an orgasm.

The Fenrir-Beast stood, found inspiration in the scene before him, and conjured a second cock.

Hermione stared at the weird-wolf and tried to get the jingle out of her head.

Double your pleasure; double your fun.

More than one cock is better than one.

The Fenrir-Beast growled, grabbed the girl's ankles, and lifted her legs to fully expose her. The heads of the cocks pushed at the entrances.

"Eek!"

Hermione had had many romantic fantasies about how she would lose her virginity, but none of them matched this. Among other things, she hadn't squeaked.

Then there was the feel of her flesh spreading, slowly spreading with a loving touch, spreading and allowing entry, a tingling entry, slowly spreading and experiencing being filled, filling as she tingled and squirmed. There was the look of the Fenrir-Beast as it pushed itself deeper and deeper into a soft, resilient Hermione who was tingling and squirming and filling the room with sounds from her beastly deep.

Hermione's fantasies had been quiet, lofty encounters where she stroked the hair of the considerate and handsome wizard who was taking her to new heights.

I'll stop making these undignified noises as soon as that thing takes its thing out of my arse, she thought.

The tingling transmuted into the most incredible sensations as two cocks took her to a new place.

But there's no hurry, thought the girl.

Meanwhile, the thing of that thing was having a grand time as the guest of honor at a premiere opening.

Interesting, thought Bellatrix as the girl's squeaks became cries and turned into moans.

Fascinating, thought Bellatrix, watching the girl's face turn ethereal and then contorted as the plunges into firm softness went from gentle to assured to demanding.

Enthralling, thought Bellatrix as the girl smiled, smiled and romped, romped and wailed, wailed as the world simultaneously exploded and melted inside her.

"Ahhrooo," wailed the Fenrir-Beast as it exploded and melted inside the girl.

That was the beast, not me, Hermione told herself. I didn't really howl, not like that anyway.

The Fenrir-Beast sat between the two women and began to change. Narcissa was back – smiling, flushed, and lovely.

Hermione put an arm around Narcissa and kissed her on the forehead. Narcissa responded with a hug that strummed the fibers of the young girl's being. Bellatrix joined the effort.

Wow, thought Bellatrix. Sisterhood is great.

Wow, thought Hermione. Auntie Bellatrix and Auntie Narcissa are great.

Wow, thought Narcissa. These two are great. Wait 'til Lucius gets in their pants.