Author's Note: In early 2014, Bundle Adjuster released Hermione and the Fairy. In mid 2017, thepinkbishop released Hermione and the Fairy Briedel, which picks up our heroine six months later. I highly recommend both. This story bridges the two, starting the day after Hermione and the Fairy. Obviously, it departs from canon.

Part 1

Hermione stretched after she woke from her long and deep slumber. She squirmed under her satin sheet, relishing the feel against her bare skin, her nipples singing in joy. She usually slept in a night shirt, but for some reason had opted to sleep nude. The memories of her previous day rushed back. She glanced under the sheet to verify that the chain was still attached to her nipples. Her poor, tortured nipples, still pierced by the golden ring. Second priority of the day would be getting them off. The first priority of the day was getting off.

Hermione flipped to her belly, a jolt of pleasure sparking from her nipples. God, she was on fire. She ground her chest into the bed, dragging her turgid nipples across the sheet. This was something new, something wondrous. A glance a the clock indicated she couldn't take too long before starting to get ready, so she snaked a hand down between her legs. Her pussy was already inflamed, wet and ready for fun. Coordinating her writhing with her fingers, she was ready to crest in no time. She backed off a bit to savor the pleasure for a few minutes, twisting left and right, feeling her nipple drag across the bed sheet. In a fit of inspiration, she shoved a pillow between her legs and humped it. She had never masturbated this way, but God her nipples! Her squirming soon became thrashing and suddenly she was coming, glorious pleasure radiating throughout her body as she screamed into another pillow. The shudder of her orgasm only served to intensify the sensations, bringing her to peak after peak. She had never been multi orgasmic, but now her body was all but insatiable. Finally she could take no more and she flipped over. Hermione lay panting and nude on bed, her fingers idly tracing lines on her skin as she recovered. A mere brush of her nipples threatened to send her back into convulsions. With a sigh, she pulled herself upright and slid out of bed.

Hermione apprised herself in her mirror, naked but for the chain across her chest, flushed and looking bedraggled. Time to pull yourself together girl. She padded to bathroom and started the day. Under the refreshing beat of the warm water, her heart seized for a moment as she considered what she was getting ready for: going in to work. To see her boss. Who just last night had to free her naked and helplessly bound body. Maybe I can just stay in? No, she had to go to work, because technically she was still employed there. Further, she need to make amends for the mess she had left. Facing George would be embarrassing, but she had responsibilities, and she was nothing if not responsible. As she washed, she let out a long purr as her hand drifted between her thighs. She was ready to go again. She fought the urge to rub out another one and left the shower, assuring herself there would be plenty of time for play after work.

Getting dressed, she pulled on a pair of pink boy shorts, giving her hips an extra wiggle to enjoy the pressure on her special spot. She paused to admire the curve of her rump in the mirror, giving it an appreciative slap. She jumped as she put on her bra. Goodness my nipples are sensitive. Just reaching over for her shirt caused pleasurable tremors from her nipples. Pleasurable, but no way to spend a day a work. Braless? No, that wouldn't be appropriate. Suddenly she hit on a idea and retrieve d the bra she had used as a costume, several cup sizes too big. With a little bit of strategic tissue stuffing, her bra was on and her nipples weren't touching anything. Yes, she looked noticeable bigger up top, but until her nipples settled down this was the best she could do.

Standing outside the store just before opening, she took a deep breath and then let herself in. She found him in the back room.

Last night

George tutted to himself as he opened his formerly hidden storage room. Hermione, what were you doing. he snickered. He had trusted her to keep his store functioning. Instead, she had invaded his most private space and gotten herself into quite a pickle. How on earth had she gotten herself into that mess? Her story was all but unbelievable. A fairy slipped into the store and tricked her? Hermione? The great, powerful Hermione, tricked by a random fairy. He suspected that perhaps she was leaving some details out of her story. He shook his head at the memory of finding her, naked, arms bound behind her back and gagged. How humiliated she must have been to have been discovered in that state. Serves you right, girl.

Part of him was offended as he put the gag back. His secret, carefully curated collection of magic sexual items been violated. He noticed the ankle chains were on the wrong shelf and went to put them back. On the other hand, he was relieved that Hermione seemed to be okay physically, and that was good. While she wasn't a close friend, really just a temporary employee, he still felt responsible for her. Still, if she had gotten herself in that predicament a day or two earlier she would have been trapped until he returned. Stupid girl he groused. I have half a mind to take you over my knee and tan your bottom. He couldn't help but snort at the thought. I bet Ron would sure enjoy that.

Ron. His broken hearted brother, his heart broken by her. Yes, Ron was a bit of a git, but still, he was his brother. Bros before hos, he thought darkly. Yes, a bit of punishment would be appropriate for little miss Hermione. Then again, maybe she was so mortified over the way he found her that she would choose not to return. At least in that case he wouldn't have to pay her. Well, thankfully no one was hurt.

George looked down at a piece of rotting lettuce on the floor. What in the world? The color drained from his face as he recognized it, and his head snapped over the cabinet.

"Oh God, no."

"Hello George," she smiled weakly. "I'm really sorry about last night."

"You're okay?"

"Yes, pretty much."

"Good. Yes, we need to talk about last night. After work."

Hermione nodded in silent agreement as she hung up her shawl. She found him to be inscrutable as ever. Her eyes swept over the room. He had been busy, the place put back together after the mess she had left. She made for the door and turned the sign to 'Open'.

The day was frantic as usual, without much of chance to feel George out for his thoughts. Further, the heat between her legs simmered unabated. It took all her focus to avoid breaking down and running off to the ladies room for some relief. Soon enough I'll be home for play time Finally the day was complete and she turned the sign to 'Closed.' She set the brooms to cleaning and tidied up before heading back to find him.

"Miss Granger, we need to talk. Please have a seat."

"Thank you."

"Tea?"

"Yes please."

After a sip of his tea he sat back, elbows on the arm rests, hands templed under his lower lip. "Why don't you tell me what happened while you were in charge of the store."

"Well, ahem, I was waiting for the brooms to finish their cleaning last night," she blushed. One of the problems with lying is that you have to remember what the lie was. "And I accidentally opened that hidden room." She looked away from him in embarrassment. "And I found some stuff...that looked odd." George nodded slightly. "So I pulled out the gag thing and the...armbinder?" Hermione could feel her cheeks burn, finding it difficult to look at him. "I brought them out to the desk here and decided to...um...put the gag on, you know, just for fun. Then I put my hands in the armbinder and suddenly it tightened up and the fairy Maeth trapped me. Until you saved me." Her heart was absolutely racing. The heat between her legs had increased greatly as her mind recalled being tied up and helpless. A pregnant pause filled the air.

"Miss Granger, do understand what this place is?"

"Yes, of course George. It's a toy store, and I'm completely fine with you having kinky things hidden in the back," she blushed with a grin, absently sweeping a lock of hair back and the memory of all the items she had seen.

"Miss Granger, I am trying very hard to remain calm."

His words jolted her out of her little embarrassed world and she looked at him. His eyes were dark and fierce. Her spine slowly straightened as the hairs on her neck stood up. He was angry. Really, really anger. The kind of anger that she hadn't felt since...well, since the war. She locked eyes with him and swallowed as he stood. He walked over to sit on the corner of his desk facing her. Her hand drifted up her thigh and settled near her wand.

"Sir, I'm sorry."

"Miss Granger, this is a store. I buy inventory to sell. If I can sell them for more than I bought them for, I can eat and maybe pay my rent. The toys are nice, and they can pay the most of the bills. However, the really valuable inventory is in my hidden room. Expensive items, some would say priceless. Now, Miss Granger, how do you suppose a poor boy like me find the money to buy these things?"

She swallowed. "I...um...suppose you get a loan from the bank."

"Yes. I get a loan from the bank." He leaned forward every so slightly, he face a mask of barely contained anger. "I have mortgaged my entire future for this store," he hissed, jabbing his finger into his palm to emphasize the each of the last words.

"I'm sorry, Sir," she whispered.

He stood and walked slowly back to his seat.

"What happened to my Madagacan Kissing Plants?"

"I...um...destroyed them."

"I. Noticed. Do you have any idea how valuable they were?"

"But...they were kissing my toes!"

"Ah yes, your precious toes. Surely anything that touches them should be destroyed," he snapped. "I paid a fortune for those plants, rare almost to the point of being unique. I trust you, the esteemed Miss Hermione Granger with the care of my store only to come home and find the remnants of them strewn across the floor."

"I...but...," she whimpered as she looked at her actions of the previous night from a different angle. Her eyes started to water. "I'll pay you back."

"Good. At least we agree on something. Although, from what I recall, you are not currently employed."

"I could work here, Sir."

"At the wages I can afford to pay, you would be a very old woman before you pay of your debt. I noticed you stole a choker also. Could I have it back?"

"I...no, you see, it's not like that. I...you see, I...found the choker and put it on." He looked at her silently. "And that's when Maeth came out!"

"So where is the choker now?"

Hermione looked at him, trapped. The full story came pouring out, from the way she found the door to the secret room to the moment he found her. She swallowed and looked at him. He seemed deep in thought, considering what she had said.

"So that's why the choker is gone. And Hamel's Restraining Locks." Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "And the fairy." Hermione nodded again. "And the lady in black. And any scrap of evidence that you are telling the truth."

"I...," she started as she reconsidered her tale. "But it's true! I swear!"

He sighed. "I believe you, Hermonie. But it still does me little good. You've all but ruined me," he said as he ran a tired hand over his hair. "Tell me, Miss Granger, is it your mission in life to destroy the Weasley family? Who is next, Percy?"

"I...no, it was an accident, I swear, it wasn't my fault!" Hermione sensed right away that protestation of innocence had rubbed him the wrong way. "I never meant to hurt you...or Ron. It was an accident."

"How sweet it must be to live the life Miss Granger. Owning all the glorious successes, accepting no blame for failures. Those are always someone else's fault."

"It's not like that," she started before the first sobs broke through. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen!"

Hermione felt awful, truly awful. Her darned curiosity had gotten herself into this mess. Although, George was right, it wasn't her mess. She could just walk away, he was the one on hook for loans. She had ruined him. And Ron. It really was all her fault. I'm the crappiest piece of crap that was ever...um... crapped, she thought to herself as she covered her face with her hands and wept.

"Stop it. Stop it this instant!" he growled, smashing a fist to his desk.

Hermione choked back her tears and looked up at him, eyes pleading for his mercy.

"I'm so sorry, sir."

"Come here, Miss Granger," he said as he moved his chair back. Hermione stood and gingerly walked over to him. "Over my knee."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's time for your punishment."

"I...," she started before silently complying.

"Hands on the floor, girl.

Straddling his lap on her hands and toes, her belly rested on his thighs. Her head snapped up as she felt him lift her skirt up over her bum and tuck it into the waistband.

"Um...sir?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"I...um...my skirt," she said as she reached back to put it back.

"Hands on the floor, Miss Granger," he ordered sharply with a slap on her exposed bottom for emphasis.

Hermione quickly put her offending hand back into place. George's hand settled on her bottom, cupping her cheek gently. Her mind reeled at the sudden change of events.

"Now, Miss Granger, let us consider what you are being punished for. First, you violated my privacy by entering my room. Second, you took two items for your own amusement. Third, you destroyed priceless Madagascan Kissing Plants. Fourth, you lost Hamel's Restraining Locks. Fifth, because of you actions you have cost me dearly financially. And sixth, you lied to me about what you had done. I think fifty strokes should be sufficient. Agreed?"

"Sir, is this really necessary? I promise you I'll pay you back somehow."

"That you will, Miss Granger, I assure you that. Now, when was the last time you were spanked?"

"Oh, never sir, I'm a good girl."

"I see. No wonder you have such a hard time controlling your urges. After each swap you will count it out and say 'I'm sorry sir.' If your hands or feet come off the ground, we start again. Any questions?"

"Sir, please don't, I promise you I'll be good."

"I sure you will, Miss Granger. Now, take you punishment like a good girl."

Her eyes flew open as he tugged her panties down to her knees. She barely had time to worry about him seeing the wet spot when a loud crack split the air, followed an instant later by her brain realizing the first spank.

"OW! Oh my God!" she gasped, instinctively reaching back to protect her bottom.

"Miss Granger, what did we say about holding your postion?"

"I'm...sorry sir, it's just..."

She was barely in position when another spank fell and she barely held her position.

"OW!"

"What do you say, Miss Granger."

"Oh...I...I'm sorry sir. I mean, one sir, I'm sorry sir."

The second spank fell on her other cheek. She yelped out her line, the realization that she was half naked, draped over the knee of her boss, as he spanked her like a naughty child singeing her mind.

"Ow, two sir, I'm sorry sir."

The pain emanating from her delicate bottom combined with the humiliation of her position and the understanding of the terrible mistake she had made caused her to weep. She had been such a bad girl, destroying and losing property that wasn't hers. By the fifth spank she was crying, by the tenth she was sobbing. Despite herself she struggled to maintain her position, his spanks making her bum burn. She broke down on the twelfth spank, her hand flying back to guard her butt.

"Please sir, no more."

"Hermione, get back into position," he ordered.

"Please sir, no more, I've learned my lesson," she blubbered.

"Do you need a break?"

"Yes sir, please."

"Very well. Go stand in the corner until you are ready to continue."

"Thank you sir."

He gently helped her up and guided her into the corner, hobbled by the panties around her knees. She reached back to rub the pain out of her bottom.

"No, hands clasp behind you head."

"Yes sir," she whispered and assumed the position.

George sat back at his desk, his anger all but spent. He looked over at the young witch crying in the corner. He hadn't really planned to spank her, he had just gotten carried away with his anger. And she had taken it so willingly! Her skirt remained tucked into her waist band, displaying her reddening bottom to him. The pinkness of her butt contrasted nicely with the pale whiteness of her trembling thighs. It was a pretty sight. With a sigh, he looked back at his accounting books and tallied his losses again from her little adventure. Intentionally or not, she had managed to either wreck or lose the most valuable items in his collection. It would take years to recover, assuming he could even scrape together enough funds to cover his bond payment due in just weeks. He wished once again that Fred was around to help him weather this ordeal. Finally the crying in the corner slowed and then stopped. Minutes later he heard her soft voice.

"Sir, I'm ready to start again."

Hermione sobbed in the corner, the sting in her bum only a small part of the pain she felt for carelessly destroying his property. She should have just minded her own business, left things where they were. But no, like a spoiled child she wanted to touch everything. She felt awful for having put George in that position. All he wanted was someone to mind the store, someone he could trust. She had betrayed his trust and had cost him a great deal of money in the process. And on top of that, she knew she had broken his brother Ron's heart. She had heard of his drunken nights since they split, his aimless wandering. She hadn't meant to hurt him either. He was such a sweetheart, but no, she had to tossed him aside, making both of them miserable in the process. She was indeed a terrible person.

Finally she got control of herself and stopped crying. Her bottom smarted, and she only on spank twelve. How was she going to make it to fifty? Was she really that weak? Never mind how weak she was, the longing in her crotch returning with a vengeance. She could tell the tops of her thighs were coated with her juices. If she waited any longer she might be wet to the knees. She considered casting a quick healing spell but discarded the idea. She deserved to be punished, and she wasn't going to cheat. She deserved every ounce of pain she received tonight. With a deep breath, she told him she was ready to start again.

"Come here, Miss Granger."

She turned and glumly shuffled over to him, taking the opportunity to wipe her nose and eyes. She gathered her courage and positioned herself over his lap again.

"Sir, I believe we were on twelve."

The smack caught her completely off guard, causing her to instinctively reach back before catching herself.

"Ow! Thirteen sir, I'm sorry sir."

"Miss Granger, what did I tell you about staying in position? That one did not count. Let's try again."

The word had barely left his mouth when he smack the other cheek. This time she managed to hold her position and get out her line. With her bottom already reddened, the pain was intense by number eighteen. She was reduced to a blubbering mess by spank twenty. After number twenty five, he gently pulled her up to straddle his legs, her panties having fallen off, facing him. She curled into his chest, crying her pathetic eyes out. He was being very gentle, stroking her hair, telling her how proud he was of her that she was taking her punishment. He told her that they were done for the night, that they would finish her punishment later. She nodded gratefully, apologizing for getting tears on his shirt. As the pain dulled, it seemed to turn to heat radiating throughout her body, settling mostly in her special spot.

"I was very lenient," he whispered in her ear. "You said this was your first spanking, and so I didn't reset the count when you broke position. Next time I will. Perhaps next time I will bind you in place to help you. Would you like that?"

Hermione couldn't suppress a whimper at the thought, being chained in place while he spanked her incredibly arousing. She nodded meekly into his chest. She was going to come so hard at home tonight. She looked off into the distance, her cheek pressed against him, and nodded again.

"Miss Granger, I believe you got in trouble because you have certain...needs. Needs that you indulged too readily."

Hermione nodded again. Yes, her curiosity had gotten her in trouble. She really needed to control herself better.

"Can you stand, please?" She nodded and rose to unsteady feet. "Lift your skirt."

She followed his direction numbly, unable to resist, even though it meant exposing her clean shaven pussy lips to him. He reached behind his desk and pulled out an item she was all too familiar with. The chastity belt. She instinctively clamped her knees together to prevent him from putting that devilish device on her.

"No, Miss Granger. Feet apart."

She struggled to comply, harder than even staying in position while she was being spanked. She needed to come so badly, but now any chance of that was about to go away. However, she couldn't resist his commands and shuffled her feet apart. A moment later the belt was locked in place, and any hope she held of a orgasm gone. He took the skirt from her limp hands and fluffed it into place before standing before her.

"I want you to focus on being a good girl for now, and that means you will be wearing the chastity belt. Okay?"

She nodded mutely, a pit in her stomach from the thrill of being dominated again. What is happening to me? she wondered. First Maeth and now George, toying with her body and her mind.

"Now I want you to go home and try and get some rest tonight. Tomorrow we'll work on getting the Fairy Briedel off. I have some ideas, but it won't be easy. Questions?"

"No sir," she said meekly.

She walked home alone, lost in dark thoughts. She knew she had been bad, very bad, but she really had no idea how much money she owed him. It didn't matter, she would work extra hard to pay off her debt. It was the least she could do. She only hoped that she could keep him from going bankrupt because of her. She wished she had never opened that door, and certainly never put on that choker.

As she lay in bed that night, she couldn't help but squirm. Her body cried out for attention, but the chastity belt ensured that she was unable to attend to those needs. It took all her strength to avoid flipping to her belly and driving herself crazy grinding her nipples on the sheet. Instead she forced herself to lay still, breasts out, and tried to get some rest. She was only partially successful. She awoke with a pain in her head, a weight in her heart, and a longing in her loins. Her shower refreshed her, and she went to work feeling alive. Her body was electric, the colors of the town more vibrant, the birds giving a musical background to the walk. She even stopped to buy some muffins as a peace offering.

George accepted her offering gratefully. However, by mid morning he excused himself to attend to a delivery to the back room. Left alone, Hermonie handled a stream of customers on her own, barely squeezing in time for lunch. All day a soft glow radiated from her center, a constant reminder of how horny she was. Zoning out, she would sometimes catch herself staring at a man in the street, or maybe one in the store. As she rang up sale after sale, she wondered how much money George was actually making from the store. While the jar of monkeys were sold for three coins, did he pay one coin for it? Or did it cost him two and a half? She had no idea.

After closing time, she set the brooms to work and tidied up. When she was finished, she returned to the back room and to George.

"Finished out there?" he inquired politely.

"Yes sir."

"Excellent. Please take your top off."

"I'm...sorry?"

"Your top. Take it off."

He spoke casually, as if it baring her breasts to him was nothing out of the ordinary. The look in his eyes was tired but focused. She swallowed, a pit forming in her stomach. After the normalcy of the day, the request was jarring. Nonetheless, she knew he needed access to the Fairy Briedel. She gathered her courage, pulled off her sweater and bra. Her arousal immediately built to full boil. Standing topless in front of him, she glanced down to see her nipples standing at full attention, pierced by the briedel. He sat on the edge of his desk and motioned her forward. In no time she was squirming under his hands as he touched, pulled and twisted the breidel. The little bell tinkled as he worked, transmitting shocks of excitement through her nipples.

"Okay," he sighed, "It looks like the briedel is fully engaged. Does it hurt?"

"No."

"And?"

"Well, it makes my nipples really sensitive. Like, really sensitive."

"I assume you are turned on?"

He said it so plainly, like he was discussing the color of the wall paint. She nodded.

"It seems you are in a very odd situation. I've not been able to find any examples of your predicament in the literature. However, the first thing you need to do is keep the bell," he said with a flick of the tiny bell on the chain, "free. It must be able to ring and should have access to air. Don't trap it under your bra strap. Tonight, however, I would like to try to remove it. Take off your skirt and follow me."

"My skirt? Why?" she asked, but he simply waved off her objection and headed to the back of the storeroom.

With a frown, Hermonie slipped off her skirt and a padded back to find him, clad only in the accursed chastity belt. He had cleared out an area in front of two of the room's wooden support beams, with a third foot square beam connecting them. Without a word, he handed her the same gag he had found her in.

"What do you want me to do with this?"

"Put it on."

"Why?"

"Because the magic I am attempting is powerful and would be disrupted if you make noise. Now put it on!" he snapped.

She frowned again in dismay and looked at the gag before securing it in place. Now she was rendered effectively mute, as any sound she made would make the gag expand in her mouth. As soon as she finished, he handed her four cuffs with heavy chains attached. She recognized them from her first night with Maeth. Unable to question him, she complied and put them on her ankles and wrists. He guided her over to the cross beam and with a sharp crack the chains on her wrists cuffs affixed themselves to the beam. Unsatisfied, he fussed with them until they were tight, her arms stretched wide without a bit of slack.

His hands dropped to her waist, and with a word he released the chastity belt. Hermonie was so startled she couldn't help but let out a squeak, only to have the gag immediately expand in her mouth. He looked at the wetness on the crotch and then to her.

"I'll set this in a cleaning bath," he said and walked away.

Hermonie stood there, helpless and completely naked in the back of the storeroom. Her eyes roamed the row of windows along the roof line, knowing that any neighborhood kids who managed to look in would be able to see her bare, helpless body. Fortunately, she didn't see anyone. A shiver ran through her as she tugged futilely on her bonds. She was so turned on her thighs were trembling. George finally returned and began working on her again.

He affixed a heavy steel collar around her neck and it bolted itself to the beam. Next, he went behind her and pulled her hair into a pony tail and somehow attached it to the beam. She could barely move her head at all, instead forced to look straight ahead. Then he took her right leg and lifted her foot up to the beam. The chain attached to the beam, leaving her balanced on one foot and obscenely spread. With a quick work, the chain on her left foot affixed itself to the floor. She was completely helpless. She was also completely turned on.

"Now, Miss Granger, as I am sure you are aware, the Fairy Briedel was designed to give sexual pleasure to the recipient. The ritual of removing it requires that you are absolutely still, so I have immobilized you. As I understand it-never having been through the process myself-the event will involve both sexual pleasure and pain. I have this," he said, holding up a small item in his hand. "It is one of my new acquisitions and is not needed for this attempt. However, I believe it may help by giving you something to focus on. Do you want to use it?"

Hermonie studied the item as best she could from her vantage point. It looked like a small turnip, but made with metal and with a thick rope roughly a foot long hanging from it. Given her state, she saw no reason not to trust him, and nodded her agreement. He pulled something from the box and applied it to the metal as he moved out of her sight behind her. Moments later she jumped as he touched her bum. Her eyes flew open and she was unable to suppress a squeal as she realized where it was going. She tried to shake her head but was completely unable to move. He paid her no mind and pushed the well lubricated plug into her ass. She squealed again, the gag her jaw too its limits, as the plug settled in her.

"Okay," he said as he reemerged, "you should be able to control the tail with your abdominal muscles. Just a few more touches before we are ready."

He cast a spell at her, and suddenly her ears were filled with the sound of wind. Moments later he slipped a soft blindfold over her eyes, leaving her deaf, blind, and mute while bound naked with a plug in her ass. Helpless, she couldn't see what, if anything, he was doing. And then the Fairy Briedel started to moved. She wasn't sure if he was handling her or not, but the chain jumped and jerked and pulled, sending waves of pleasure through her body. It was during her squirming that she first realized that she could control the tail that was hanging out of the butt plug.

Alone in her little world of pleasure, she focused on her ass and tried to get the tail to move as she wanted. After many failed attempts, she managed to get the perfect combination of moves and the thick rope slapped her right between the legs, the end just kissing her engorged clit. Ecstasy filled her mind, giving her hope of a glorious orgasm. She no longer cared that George was standing there watching her struggle, she has been denied an orgasm for too long. She focused on perfecting the motion of the tail, tightening her abs and squeezing her sphincter. Time slowed for her as she worked, a light sheen of sweat covering her body. As she perfected her technique, she was able to consistently slap her clit with the tail. Sadly, though, her abdominal muscles weren't used to these contortions and were tiring rapidly. Her moves became more and more erratic, the slaps less precise, her blessed orgasm remaining tantalizingly out of reach.

Throughout her attempts, the Fairey Briedel continued to dance all but driving her mad with lust. Sometime the chain just wiggled, but soon tugs and pulls were added to the mix. Suddenly her nipples felt like they were being bitten, only for the briedel to next return to gentle kisses. There was no pattern to the stimulation, sometimes pain, sometimes pleasure, blending together seamlessly.

Throughout it all she tried to focus on the device in her ass, trying to land the perfect combination of moves that would drive her into orgasm. Finally, she accomplished just that, curling the tail perfectly to stroke her clit, driving her over the crest. The tidal wave of arousal that had been building in her body was released and she surrendered to pleasure, her clit being stroked while the briedel stimulated her nipples. She worked her tail until her body was too exhausted to properly manipulate it. She slumped in her bonds, briefly sated and spent. She didn't even notice the breidel had stopped moving.

Suddenly the blindfold was removed from her eyes. She blinked in surprise at the brightness as her brain slowly woke up to her surroundings. George was looking concerned. Moments later, the wind in her ears stopped. George shook his head as he released her right foot.

"I'm sorry, Hermonie, it didn't work." He moved behind her and held her cheeks open as he pulled the butt plug out. "Give me a minute, I'll get out soon."

He left her again, naked and helpless. Her mind raced as he left. Why doesn't he just take me? I'm standing here, naked, open and dripping. Take me! she screamed in her head. Minutes dragged by as she waited. Finally he returned, carrying the dreaded chastity belt. Despite herself, Hermonie couldn't help but try to voice her disapproval, only to be punished with the gag filling her mouth once more. Her thighs clamped together to prevent him from attaching the accursed device. George was having none of it. With a tug of the chain he easily forced her legs apart. Hermonie almost fainted as he wiped her between her legs with a soft towel before attaching the chastity belt.

Next he set about removing the cuffs from her ankles, then the collar around her neck. He took his time, working slowly and methodically. The time allowed Hermonie to get control of her body. The shame of her situation embarrassed her. She couldn't very well beg him for an fuck, even in her state she wasn't that desperate. Was she? He released her pony tail and then her arms, cradling her as she slumped forward. He wrapped her in a soft robe and guided her to a chair.

"I'm sorry, Hermonie, it didn't work," he repeated. "Are you okay?"

She nodded meekly as she set to work releasing the gag. When it was finally out, she worked her jaw silently as feeling came back.

"Was that too painful for you?" She shook her head, unwilling to meet his eyes. "Okay, well that's all for tonight. Go home, try to get some rest. I'll try to come up with something else to try tomorrow."

Tomorrow. Hermonie quivered at the thought. Maybe tomorrow he would finishing their session by giving her the thorough shagging she needed. She nodded to herself as he left, allowing her to get dressed alone.


Part 2 (added: 2018/05/27)

The chastity belt was up to its old tricks. Hermione wasn't sure if George had added the enchantment or if it was left over from Maeth, or perhaps some other prior owner. At any rate, it was distracting. And embarrassing. Basically, the belt was giving her clitoris attention whenever a man talked to her. It felt kind of like a swirling tongue combined maybe with suction. Worse, the Fairy Briedel had joined in the act, stimulating her nipples. Trying to talk to a man and keeping a straight face while having her most sensitive spots expertly stimulated was incredibly difficult. Hermione found that if she did the talking, the belt would remain still, but as soon as he started talking the belt responded. She could feel her cheeks burn in humiliation as she tried to listen to him while standing still and avoiding gasping. Working in a toy store made it all the more humiliating, as apparently any boy past puberty had the effect on her. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on her viewpoint, the belt had not driven her to a climax while talking to a customer, as their conversations never lasted long enough.

It all came to a head when two pimply faced teens had engaged her in an extended discussion of the card set they were looking to buy, taking turns asking her for details. Hermione was pushed to the brink of an orgasm, barely able to squeeze a word in edgewise over the excited boys. It took all of her will power and then some to hold off her orgasm. When they finally left, she was so close she needed to take a moment to compose herself. She was standing there, feeling safe at last, bent over with her head on the counter and trying to recover when George walked in.

"Everything going okay today?" Her head snapped up as the air left her. "It is getting close to closing time, I'd like to see you in the back afterwards, okay?" She struggled to stand and face him. "I've been doing some more research and have another idea on what to try. Quite interesting, actually." Hermione strangled a moan as she started to come. "It turns out...are you okay?"

Her mind wracked with pleasure, she collapsed forward and hugged him. "I'm so sorry, George," she managed to get out.

"That's okay dear. We all make mistakes," he whispered in her ear as he held the trembling girl. Thinking she was sobbing over the damage she had done, he tried to reassure her. "I'm trying to make the best of things and I know you are too."

And he kept on talking, thinking he was soothing her when all he was doing was making her come so hard she was seeing stars. She had to get him to shut up for a moment.

"Tissue please."

Mercifully he took the bait and wandered off. She leaned heavily on the counter before collapsing in a dazed heap on the floor. The orgasm had been building for days and she was still quivering on the floor recovering when he returned. She made a great show of blowing her nose and George, kind friend that he was, told her that as it was almost closing time she should go take a break in the back room.

She awoke after closing and George took pity on her, telling her to go home for the night. As she walked home, still flushed from her incredible orgasm, she was grateful that men talking around her generally didn't have an effect, it was only when they talked to her. There was that one time when a man next to her shouted for a taxi. Or when she was in the coffee shop getting ready to order and the men behind her were having an animated conversation. Those incidents seemed to be the exception. However, being a young attractive women still drew male attention, which sometimes led to a discussion, like when the kind old man held the door for her and bid her a good evening. Men talking on the TV or the radio however had no effect, something she found regrettable. How fun it would be watching a rom-com while slowly being worked up to a come. Oh, oh, oh! Mr. Darcy! She wondered what a date would be like, sitting in a restaurant while the man talked her into a flatware scattering orgasm. She flushed at the thought. Maybe it would be better to go to a pub.

Safely at home, her thoughts drifted to sex, something she was thinking more and more about. She wondered how much of her sex drive was due to living in a chastity belt and how much was due to the fact she'd been without for nearly a year. One thing was certain, though, she was horny all the time. If Ron were still around she could...well, nothing. She was still in a chastity belt, he wouldn't be able to do anything. That realization put a damper on her fantasies, as there wouldn't be much point in securing a man while she wore the belt.

Then again, she had just had a mind melting orgasm from being talked to. She tried to figure out how to get a guy to talk to her for long enough to come. She couldn't very well make out with him, while kissing was great, her tongue down his throat would inhibit his ability to talk. And guys, in her experience, generally didn't talk to girls for a long time unless they thought they were going to get into her pants.

Her eyes flew open at a terrible thought: she was going to have an appointment with her thesis advisor at Magoolick's Graduate School of Magical Studies! She would have to sit across the desk from Professor Adams in his brightly lit office while he talked to her about what she was going to research for her Master's Degree in Witchcraft. Without even thinking about it, her hands settled on her breasts, fingers caressing her nipples as she imagined how humiliating it would be to have an orgasm as he talked about her studies. Sitting there, dutifully trying to take notes as he went on and on, unable to escape or hide. She wondered if he would even notice she was coming, so focused on his work. What if she was hit with a truth spell and had to tell him when she started to come? He would never look at her the same again.

Her mind drifted back to the idea of a date. On the one hand, she could go out with anybody anywhere and not worry about getting raped, the belt would rule that out. But she could still use her mouth. What if, instead of making out with a guy, she just sucked his cock? She imagined a guy starting to chat her up a the coffee shop, getting her so worked up she'd lead him back to the alley, sucking his thick hard cock as he told her what a good slut she was. It would be so hot...and maybe his friend would come out looking for him and ask to be serviced also, stuffing a bill in her cleavage as if she were a two bit whore. Goodness, where were these nasty ideas coming from? she wondered. Hermione breathlessly noticed her hands on her breasts and yanked them away. She groaned in frustration, her pleasure button trapped away beneath the belt. She willed herself to lay still in bed, hands by her side, until a fitful sleep took her over.

As if reacting to her condition of wearing the chastity belt, her dreams were full of scenes of her without the belt, men having sex with her in all different positions and places. Ron had never been particularly adventurous, and when they could steal away they had mostly done it missionary style. Now her fantasies were full of her bent over, on her knees, standing up, on her back. Men taking her in taxis, in theaters, in fields. Two men at once.

When she woke, inevitably her hands were on her breasts, fondling her over sensitive nipples, her body tense with need. Many a morning she had fruitlessly fought the belt, desperately trying to get it off so she could get off. Awake and horny, her days were filled with fantasies of giving men blowjobs. She felt she had become quite skilled at stealing glances at men's bulges. At least she hoped she was skilled, it would be embarrassing if the men noticed what she was doing, imagining what they hid below and how it would feel in her mouth.

Her only relief, if you could call it that, was George's attempts to get the Fairy Breidel off of her. His attempts had all been unsuccessful, but in addition to securing her naked in strict bondage he had allowed her to use the tail, as she came to know it. Blindfolded, deaf and mute, the Breidel doing amazing things to her nipples, she would focus on the tail, trying to get it to smack her clit just right to push her into a glorious orgasm. Her need was so great she didn't even care that George was right there watching her gyrations. The small, weak orgasms she achieved were all she managed until that day that the belt had driven her to a powerful climax while sagging in George's arm. Since then the belt had always backed of.

George sighed again as he studied the tomes. It really appeared as if Hermione had broken new ground by being a witch pierced by a Fairy Breidel. The Breidel, an enchanted animal essentially, was designed for Wizards to use on Muggle women. The Breidel typically had three ends, one for each of the woman's nipples and a third for her clit. While Hermione only had her nipples pierced, she had confessed to being very aroused. The Breidel would feed off the woman's sexual arousal, and the feeding would in turn arouse the woman, a symbiotic relationship. The Breidel was further excited by use of magic, particularly the wand of the Wizard. Seeing how Hermione was herself a witch, the Breidel was likely feeding off the magic flowing through her as well as her horniness.

Extended use of the Breidel would push the woman into a state of unbridled desire. He recalled the words written in a scroll: My sub is like a dog in heat, a freak without warning. She has an appetite for love, for she's so horny . That eventuality was something George did not want to see happen to poor Hermione . The Wizard who installed one could reasonably be expected to keep his pet in line, but Hermione didn't even have that luxury, she was currently not dating. There was no one, other than himself, to take control of her, and he was not inclined to take her in. He mused repeatedly of turning her over to Ron, but she had broken up with him. Would it be better to leave a desperately horny woman to her own devices to find a mate or reunite her with a man she had rejected? He had no clue.

The only other option was returning her to her family, but that would surely raise questions. Questions that would lead to them finding out about his hidden back room, a discovery that, if publicized, could well ruin his toy store. No, her family was not an option. For now, she would have to manage on her own.

The Wizard who installed a Fairy Breidel could remove one, and there were precious few examples of someone other than the installer of removing one. The fairy who had installed it, Maeth, had disappeared. Fairies were odd little creatures, difficult to locate and generally unwilling to snitch on other fairies, especially to a Wizard. Either that or they legitimately did not know where she had gone. George did know one thing, though, something that the tomes made very clear: once the woman actually had sexual relations, the Breidel was virtually impossible to remove. That was why he had kept her in the chastity belt, at least for time being, hoping to buy time to work on getting it off of her. It wasn't exactly clear, though, what sexual relations meant. Did blow jobs count or not? He couldn't very well force her to walk around with a gag. He hoped she could control the urges the Breidel was generating in her.

Time was ticking, though. He had already taken his best shots and the Breidel remained attached. Hermione was being wonderful about it, valiantly controlling herself. She was a nice girl, a good girl. If he was unable get that thing off of her she would likely be turned into slut prowling bars and taverns every night with the sole focus of finding a new man to bed. For now, though, he would try to remove it and try again, all the while desperately trying to keep ahead of his creditors.

Spring break now over, Hermione had to cut back on her hours at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. George had hired another young woman, Taffy, to help, and Hermione planned her workdays around her school time. Sitting in class during lectures she was grateful that the belt didn't respond. But then she tried to answer a question, and as the professor responded, so did the belt. She quickly learned to keep her head down to avoid attention. Group work was the worst, as it seemed the guys in the group always wanted to talk, pushing their ideas. She had made the mistake once of joining Timothy and Max in a group, and they monopolized the discussion arguing mundane points, trying to get her to agree with their side. Fortunately, they generally weren't directly talking to her, arguing amongst themselves. Unfortunately, they frequently turned their attention to her, keeping her on edge throughout. From that day on she made a point to only get into groups with women.

As she predicted, her meeting with Professor Adams was a disaster. She had the foresight to bring along a recorder to catch everything he said, but still the hour spent in his room as they discussed-well, he discussed, she listened-her thesis was mortifying. She was sure she sounded like a twit by the end, barely able to put together a full sentence. Her legs were jellified by the time she left his office, relying on her recorder to tell her what he had said. Listening to the playback later in the safety of her own home, her whimpers of desperation seemed so obvious that she was sure the Professor knew what was going on.

As Hermione clocked in at the store, Taffy got up to leave. A perfectly lovely girl, but she apparently hadn't found the back room yet. She still cluelessly thought the toy store was just a toy store. Hermione sighed. In reality it was a toy store, a toy store that happened to have a storeroom of sex toys, but it's not like they ever sold them over the counter. She settled in for her work day, checking to make sure everything was in order. The evening dragged by. She considered her condition. She knew she owed George a lot of money for the damage she had done. That was why she essentially worked for free, although George was so kind he would give her money whenever she asked, like when she needed funds to buy a new assortment of bras that would allow her to pad them and protect her nipples. At least now she could get around without her super sensitive nipples getting stimulated with every step.

George walked in, and Hermione smiled even as she braced herself for the inevitable kisses of the belt as he talked to her. She felt like she had gotten quite successful at hiding the intense pleasure she experience d when men talked to her. She was now quite adept at developing a sudden sneeze to hide her reaction. A whole week had gone by without anyone giving her a funny look, but her body was strung out with need. If it wasn't for the darned chastity belt she would be fingering herself silly. George took his leave, heading to the back to review the books. Hermione felt another pang of regret as she saw the worry etched on his face. She had only glanced at his books, but she knew the big red numbers of the losses she had caused weighed heavily on his mind.

Bored, she walked the store, idly straightening up, when a man walked in. She instinctively smiled at him and told him she was available to help if he needed anything. Later, she studied him. He was well dressed, not some random dad looking for a toy. He was about her age and quite good looking. His shoes in particular caught her eye, an upbrand oxford that spoke of both taste and money. She noticed he was looking lost, like he didn't have any idea what to get. She steeled herself and approached him. As she approached, she recognized that his blazer was extremely well made, probably custom fit, necessitated by his broad shoulders and thick arms. She wondered momentarily if a certain other part was thick also.

"Hello, can I help you find something?"

"Oh, hello. I'm just looking right now."

Hermione smiled, both in greeting and at the sweet kisses she received below. "Looking for something in particular? For a child perhaps?"

"Hah, well, no. Although, in actuality, we are all children, aren't we?" Hermione twitched, giving him pause. "I mean of course, men, we are children," he smiled. "You women are the adults, keeping us sots in line."

"Okay..."

"So I'm actually in a bit of a pickle. By the way, I'm Aaron, Durmstrang."

"Hermione, Hogwarts."

"My mate is getting married. And I, as the best man, have to host the bachelor party."

"You must be a good friend."

"We'll see. A couple of problems, though. For one, he doesn't drink."

"An admirable trait in a man, don't you think?"

"Probably true, but it sure makes planning a stag night for muggles difficult." Goodness, every time he spoke it was like he was licking her!

"Muggles?"

"Well yes, the rest of the guys are muggles. I work in finance, actually. It turns out I'm a...Financial Wizard," he said with a wink. Hermione giggled.

"Interesting. Well, I am sure we have no booze in the this shop. But toys? Don't you lads...?" She offered.

"Yes, well, that brings us to the second issue. His fiancé has issued an edict: No...um...hah..."

"Hookers."

"Well yes, actually, I was meaning..."

"Strippers."

"Yes. Exactly. Whew! I didn't want to offend such a lovely lady as yourself with such crude talk."

Hermione smiled. "I'm an adult, remember. I think I can handle some crude talk."

"I'll keep that in mind," he smiled back.

"And so, no booze, no strippers, we can play cards but we do that every Saturday already. I was perusing your store hoping to find inspiration for some games. For you see, I have no small sum to host this party, but nothing to spend it on." Hermione was forced to fake a sneeze. "Bless you."

"Thank you. A good position be in, too much money rather than too little."

"Well...not exactly. I have to deliver, but have no idea what, exactly. I...hah...we're all adults here, right?"

"At least one of us is."

"And so I was hoping to get some female, how shall I put it, support. But it turns out models hear 'stag party' and immediately rule you out. Apparently lads have gotten out of hand and there are no models who want to participate, apparently at any price."

"Really!" Hermione blinked. "At any price?"

"So it appears."

Hermione could feel the sweat starting to form on her brow as she tried to suppress her body's reaction the belt and Briedel. Now, however, she was interested in his predicament. "What, exactly, would you expect these models to do?"

"Well, just chat, flirt, be a waitress, giggle. Nothing more than that."

"And how many blokes are we talking about?"

"Seven, including the groom."

"So, seven lads out for the night on the town with one girl. I can see why they might be apprehensive. "

"So it appears. And here I am. But, if it is any consolation, I take this task seriously." His face hardened ever so slightly. "And I absolutely will not let things get out of hand at his party."

"I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply..."

"No, dear, I implied. You..."

"Inferred."

They shared a chuckle, the breath starting to come faster for Hermione . The gears started to spin in her head. Seven guys, she only had to be a girl to liven things up, the party wouldn't get out of hand, even if it did she was wearing the chastity belt. And she could get paid, quite handsomely it appeared.

"Well, um, I'm no model but perhaps we could come to an agreement?"

Hermione heard the group enter the main room and checked herself in the mirror one more time. One thing she was sure of, this group didn't lack for money. They were in a penthouse at the swankiest hotel in the city. She was getting ready in one of the rooms down the hall from the main room. She thought she look absolutely fabulous. Make up light but on point, giving her the appearance of the girl next door with just a hint of vixen. She'd had her hair done, and perhaps for the first time in her life was truly happy with the way it looked. Nails, perfect.

Her bustier, black with red trim, accented her cleavage. Five spaghetti straps hung off each shoulder, constantly giving the appearance that they were about to fall off. A small heart shaped cut out between her breasts displayed the tiny bell of the Briedel. Her skirt, also black with red highlights, was short, but not too short, appropriate for a night of clubbing as girl who wasn't on the prowl. She wore thigh high black silk stockings, 4 inch sparkly black heels, and of course her chastity belt. She was thankful she had it on, as she was feeling so randy she could easily see herself getting carried away if it wasn't securely attached about her waist. The belt was actually a thong in the back, so for all intents and purposes her bottom was bare under her skirt. It was thrilling. She took a breath and stepped out into the hall.

She could see Aaron addressing six other well dressed men, one wearing a crown. Their faces were stern. She swallowed in apprehension, wondering if she had badly misjudged the evening. Aaron turned and saw her and broke into a smile as he came over.

"You look fantastic, Amy," he smiled, using her stage name.

"Is everything okay?" Hermione whispered timidly.

"Just laying down the law. Everyone should behave, it they don't, I'll knock their teeth out," he smiled. "You ready?"

She took a deep breath. "Ready."

He stepped back into the room, where the six men were arranged in a semicircle about the man in the crown.

"Gentlemen, and of course Brandon, I'd like to introduce our hostess for the evening, Miss Amy."

Hermione tiptoed out and was greeting with a boisterous cheer and applause from the men. She wobbled for just a moment as the belt went wild between her legs. She gave a little wave before putting on her strut and approaching the man wearing the crown.

"Are you Matthew the groom?" She asked as playfully as she could. He nodded with a restrained grin on his face and she placed herself in his lap. "Well, I'm sorry you had to pick such an awful best man to set up your stag party. He couldn't even figure out how to hire a stripper."

The room got silent as Matthew's face hardened. He glanced at Aaron, daggers in his eyes. Suddenly Hermione realized they had taken her flip comment completely backwards, like when the cops busted Mary's bachelorette party and then started stripping. They thought she was stripper! She jumped to her feet, horrified, as the men devoured her with their eyes.

"No, guys, seriously, I'm not a stripper," she said, hands waving off in front of her. "This is not coming off. None of it. Not going to happen."

The air seemed to go out of Matthew and he slumped forward, head in hand. The room erupted in strained laughter.

"Oh thank God, you really got me there. Come here you little minx!" She squealed as he pulled her back into his lap. "You really scared the crap out of me."

She pulled forward and whispered in his ear that she understood she was to keep it clean. He nodded, feeling much more relaxed, holding her awkwardly and she took a moment to survey the group. Five guys sitting around Matthew, four her age and one guy noticeably younger. All good looking and well dressed lads, one with a ring.

"Well, so if you don't strip, what can you do?"

"I can make you drinks!" she said as she bounced to her feet.

"Mixed drinks?"

"I'm, um, not a bartender, but I'll do my best!"

"Well," the black haired bloke said, "I say if you make a drink wrong we get to spank you!"

The color left Hermione's face as her eyes darted to Aaron, who was already moving. The chuckles died in their throats as he grabbed the guy by neck, pulled him out of the chair and practically threw him into the room adjoining the main room, the door slamming behind them with such force that she jumped. She looked back at the men, all staring at the ground sheepishly. This was not starting out well.

"Beer?" she asked in a strangled squeak.

A ripple went through the crowd as they all raised their hands. The silence in the room was oppressive.

"Listen," Matthew said, "I'm sorry about Dale, he gets a little..."

A murmur went through the guys in agreement. She nodded and fixed smile on her face. This was not going well! And where was the bottle opener? Get a grip!

She managed to open and serve four beers and a coke for Matthew before Aaron and Dale returned. Dale was looking a little more disheveled than before. Her eyes found Aaron, his jaw set, his face hard like stone. This is not going well!

"I apologize for being rude to you," Dale shuffled, standing in front of her. "I'm sorry."

She nodded and he slumped back to his chair and sat down, deflated. She looked back to Aaron. She had come here to be the centerpiece of a party, and now it was all ruined. She looked around the room, the men looking for answers in the bottom of their beers. She knew she had to try something. She opened another bottle of beer and sauntered over to Dale. She nudged him with his beer, a stern look on her face. He looked up sheepishly and took his beer. She glared at him for a moment and then sat on his lap facing the other lads with a sigh.

"What you did was extremely inappropriate," she said in a stern voice, projecting for the benefit of the room. "I am shocked and very disappointed at your behavior. Do you know what you did wrong?"

"Yes ma'am," he mumbled.

"I don't think you do," she continued, wagging her finger at him. "You can't just blurt out your idea like some cheese-eating Frenchmen. You need to make a motion first," she said and looked around the room haughtily, "And then it needs to be seconded."

She caught the eye of the brown haired guy and nodded firmly. Realization slowly dawned on his face.

"We are a society of rules, young man, we are not rabble. If and only if your motion is seconded the board can vote on it." The other men were now looking at her, catching on. "I mean seriously, what did they teach you in college? Did you go to University of Glasgow or something?"

"Dude, she totally nailed you!" the other guy laughed.

Laughs filled the room as Dale nodded. "Got me. College of Economics."

"Well that explains it. So, lads, we need to go a little easy on poor Dale here," she smiled, tousling his hair. "A little slow," she mouthed silently to group. "Care to try again like a big boy?"

His shocked eyes raised to her, and then to Aaron. She glanced at Aaron and gave a subtle nod before turning back to Dale. Aaron apparently consented and Dale turned back to her to check her eyes before turning back to the group.

"If it may please the board, I make a motion that if our hostess mixes a drink incorrectly, the requestor gets to spank her."

Hermione turned back to Aaron with a grin and nodded ever so slightly.

"Is there a second?"

"I...uh...second the motion," someone said.

Hermione dropped her jaw in mock consternation, eyes darting to and fro.

"Well then, members of the board, we have a motion to spank our hostess if she mixes a drink incorrectly."

"May I?" Hermione interjected.

"Young lady, you have no standing before the board."

Hermione pouted. The young guy took her lead. "If it may please the board, I ask that we consider input from our lovely hostess on the matter."

Grumbling followed, but Aaron agreed.

"Young lady, what have you to say?"

"Well, kind sir, members of the board, I just wanted to clarify whether a spanking is a single smack on the bottom or several?"

Hermione placed a finger on her chin as if deep in thought. Much nodding and thinking followed until Dale spoke up again.

"I wish to amend my motion to clarify that a spanking consists of three and only three spanks applied to the bottom and only the bottom of our hostess."

"Second."

"Very well, gentlemen...," Aaron started.

"I propose an amendment to the motion before the board," the another guy said. "I propose that, since our lovely young hostess has already professed to not being a bartender and only trying to do her best, that before said punishment is applied, the requestor shall mix the drink to the approval of the board. Shall the drink be found insufficient, the requestor shall receive six spanks and only six spanks on the bottom and only on the bottom by the hostess." Hermione gave a quick shake of her head. "Nails," she mouthed silently to him, pointing to her fingertips. "Let me clarify, the hostess shall designate a member of the board to apply the spanks."

"Second."

"Shall the trousers be up or down?" another third guy asked.

"Point of order kind sir!"

"If I may clarify further, the spankings shall be with trousers be down, but not his underwear."

"Second."

"Very well. If there are no further amendments, all in favor say 'Aye'." A chorus filled the room. "So moved. Let the record state that the motion passed unanimously."

Hermione stood and held her cheeks in her hands in fake shock. "Guys! I thought you were on my side! Goodness!"

"We are, my dear, we are."

"Well, my good lady, I believe I would like a drink," Aaron said with a small grin. "A mixed drink. I would like a Long Island Ice Tea."

"Coming right up, sir!"

Hermione knew how to make Long Island Ice Teas, as it was her favorite drink. She quickly laid out the ingredients and began making the drink, know all the men were watching her like hawks. She glanced at Aaron and then deliberately left out the cola. The group inhaled sharply, everyone one of them recognized her error. She placed the half made drink on her platter and took it to Aaron. He took one sip and then shook his head.

"I'm afraid, my dear, that you forgot to add the cola."

Hermione 's jaw dropped. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry! I'll add it right now!"

She went to take the cocktail from his hand but he denied her and instead went to the bar and added the cola himself. He presented it to the group.

"Now this is a properly made Long Island Ice Tea."

Approval roared from the group and Hermione launched into her display, crossing her legs, hopping about as she pleaded with him not to spank her. She promised up and down that she would get it right the next time, all to no avail. For a moment she was concerned that he would show her bottom off to the men, but the actual position was even worse. He had her bend forward before the group and lift the back of her skirt. Only he could see her butt, but she was forced to look at the other men as he laid on three good spanks, leaving her hopping and holding her bum.

The evening picked up from there. She served drinks, flirted wildly, got spanked a few times, fed the men shrimp from her lips. All the while the belt and Fairy Breidel kept her on the edge. With seven men there was no shortage of attention being showered on her and it felt like the belt was intentionally backing off, keeping her teetering on the edge of a massive orgasm. Hermione laughed, sat in laps, told jokes and more. She was the life of the party. She felt she was starting to understand the appeal of stripping, having all these men fixated on her was extremely intoxicating.

The strangest thing was how nice they all were. They weren't drinking to get drunk, just drinking socially. She'd been to parties with boorish guys, drunk men. Here everyone was just happy and laughing and being nice to her. No one kissed her, no one grabbed her, no one spoke down to her. She felt like she knew all the guys, and perhaps more surprisingly, liked all the guys. They were all from out of town, some traveling from other countries to attend. The kid, Brandon, was actually a freshman in college, and he was so cute, he could barely look at her without blushing.

She was half out of her mind on endorphins, the belt and Breidel working on her non stop for hours. Her mind wandered to Aaron, wondering if she could entice him into her flat after he walked her home. She could offer him a blowjob as thanks for such a lovely and well compensated evening. Suddenly the door burst open and a very angry looking blonde girl stormed in.

"Yay, it's the stripper!" Hermione shouted.

The woman glared at her for a moment before smacking Matthew on the shoulder.

"I told you no hookers!" she snapped. The guys started laughing at her as she fumed.

"Honey, it's fine. Nothing's going on."

"She's not the stripper?" Hermione asked innocently but loudly enough so every one could hear.

The girl snarled at her before she grabbed Matthew's hand and dragged him out of the room as he protested.

"Yeah, I can see why, she'd never work out," Hermione smirked.

Eyes slowly left the door and went back to her.

"Well, she sure sounds like fun," Hermione said.

Tom took a long sip from his beer, glancing at Aaron for a moment before looking back at Hermione . "Matthew's no longer here. So now maybe you could..."

"You want to make a motion?" Dale asked.

Hermione blushed as she realized where this was going.

"Uh, no, guys, I'm not going to do...that. That wasn't part of the deal." Her eyes found Aaron's with a shake of the her head.

"We could...make a new deal."

Hermione shook her head again. She couldn't strip because she couldn't take the chastity belt off. It would never work, only leading to more questions. They'd ask about the Fairy Breidel and touch her and stroke her exposed skin as she lay on the table tied down and spread eagled...she shook her head to clear it. I am so horny!

"No, I, ah..."

The lads faces fell in exaggerated dismay, toying with her feelings before breaking into acceptance. She looked about the room at the six guys and thought about going home, laying in bed alone again, staring at the ceiling. This had almost been like a date, right? her lust addled mind wondered. If I had this much fun on a date, I'd totally suck the guy off. Days of unabated arousal caused the idea take root as she watched the men sip their drinks in silence, a tension in the room. Her heart raced even more as she decided what she was going to say.

"Well, um, fellows, it's been a nice evening," she started. They all looked at her and nodded in disappointment. "So, um, I guess I'm just going to offer to give a night cap to our special guest of honor."

The guys looked at each other. "Um, Matthew left."

"Oh. Well, I guess next in line is," she scanned their faces, savoring their breathless anticipation. "Brandon, his brother."

She held her hand out to and the young man took it, stunned. The room was silent in shock as she led him away to the adjoining room. Somewhere along the few steps to the room, her plan solidified. Let's do this. She left the door open and pulled out a chair so that it was out of the direct line of sight from main room.

"So, I'm not sure what I'm doing," she confessed as she lowered herself to straddle his lap. "But I, ah, if you make it worth my while, I can make you feel good."

In a flash he had his wallet out. "Is this enough?"

She shrugged and snuggled up to him. "How much do you think it's worth?"

"I...uh..."

He moved to embrace her but she pushed his hands away.

"No touching," she smiled and lowered herself down to the ground between his legs.

She undid his belt and, feeling more empowered by the second, opened his fly. He lifted his hips and a moment later she had freed his cock, his glorious cock, still coming to attention. She practically climaxed just from seeing her first cock in almost a year.

"So it's like this," she moaned as she gave him a lick. "I'm really good at this,' she lied. "I can make you cum real quick, and send you back to the guys where they'll mock you for having no self control." She gave him another lick. "Or I can stretch it out and pleasure you for awhile. Which do you want?"

"The long one," he whimpered.

"You going to make it worth my while?" she asked, glancing at his wallet.

He nodded, and she leaned forward to engulf his dick with her mouth. A cock, a wonderful hard cock, finally in her mouth. It had been months since she last got to enjoy Ron's cock. She moaned in pleasure. She knew she had promised a long blowjob, but she really didn't care. This was as much for her pleasure as it was for him.

She sucked him and licked him. She let off to suck on his balls. She looked him in the eye, assessing how she was doing as she bobbed on his cock. Finally he could take no more and groaned as he came in her mouth. Hermione greedily swallowed it all, panting from the sheer joy of giving pleasure. She was delirious with lust, savoring the bitter taste of his seed in her mouth. He ended up emptying his wallet for her.

She finally staggered to her feet and he led her out. Still panting, she scanned the room.

"Who's next?" she purred.

In the end all six men had availed themselves to her oral services. Twice, in fact. Even the married man. Hermione had also discovered something unpleasant about men: they didn't talk while she serviced them. This meant that while she worked, her belt and Breidel were silent, letting her stew in her juices. She started to encourage them to tell her how she was doing, but they tapered off before too long as they just reveled in the sensations. It was still tremendously arousing to bring them to ecstasy. She left the hotel in the wee hours of the morning, a belly full of cum, a song in her heart, and her bag full of cash. Aaron escorted her like a gentleman all the way to her door. She was walking on air the whole time, happy beyond measure that she had made her new friends feel so good. And tomorrow she knew she would also help a very special friend. She slept well.

The next day she found George in the back room, head in hands. She greeted him with a smile and presented him with her gift. The expression on his face was priceless as he saw the stacks of bills in the box.

"My word, Hermione, did you rob a bank?"

"No. I hope this will help you with your creditors."

George stared at her as understanding slowly dawned on his face.

"Hermione, you can't do this."

"Please, I know I caused a lot of damage. Please accept this payment as part of what I owe."

"Are you sure? This isn't your tuition money?"

"No, it is not. But it is none of your business. It is for you."

Relief washed over his face, moving him almost to the point of tears, and he hugged her close in gratitude. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Hermione couldn't help but do a pirouette as she left George, she was practically bursting with joy. She had been a very, very good girl.

George sat in the back room, a tumbler of celebration whiskey in his hand. He couldn't believe the strange twist of fate that led to Hermione giving him that sum of money. Suddenly the tunnel didn't seem so dark, with at least something resembling a light in the distance. He had been that close to defaulting, now he had enough to make the payment and maybe, hopefully, if sales went well, make the next one. He wondered where she could come up with that kind of money. An inheritance perhaps? He shook his head. Must be nice being rich. Maybe one day he could know the feeling.

He shook his head again. Well, if there was a silver lining in all this, amongst all his running around trying to find a way to get the Breidel off of her, he had stumbled across a tome on how to grow Madagacan Kissing Plants from cuttings. He was grateful he had the foresight to preserve some of the larger chunks of the plant after Hermione destroyed it. Now, a few of them were starting to sprout in their liquid bath, though it would be many months before they were ready to pot, assuming he could get them to grow. I should have never sunk so much money into those, he thought as he took another sip. Lessons learned.