The Discreet Art of Persuasion

Harry stifled a yawn as he unlocked the front door of his cute little two story, settled on a large, well-kept lawn and shaded by tall oak trees. He couldn't believe what a long day it had been; testing out new broomstick models was the best job he could imagine having, but some days, he wondered if he shouldn't just give it up and stay at home with his wife and baby daughter.

He smiled at the thought as he opened the door, pocketing his wand. He stepped into the entryway and stopped dead, the door swinging shut behind him.

"Hermione?"

His wife was perched primly on the sofa, and she crossed her legs, her thigh-high leather boots moving against one another with a svelte whisper that had Harry's cock instantly at attention. He pleaded silently with it to calm down right that instant as he croaked again, weakly, "Hermione?"

"Hello, Harry." Hermione uncrossed, then recrossed, her legs, and Harry nearly fainted when a tantalysing glimpse of bushy brown hair was revealed between them for the swiftest of seconds.

"What--what--" Harry stuttered, his jaw working up and down uselessly.

"I planned a little surprise for you." Hermione stood, smoothing her hands over the black leather bustier that was laced tightly along the front and ended in a pair of tiny, very lacy (and apparently crotchless) black knickers. Harry goggled.

"I don't--I mean, that's--you didn't have to--" Harry wondered if this is what it was like to hyperventilate.

"I think I did, actually." Hermione picked up what it took Harry a moment to realise was a long leather whip, and his heart actually stopped in his chest.

"Where's Janey?" he asked when his pulse finally jump-started again, thundering like a train through his veins.

"She's fine. She's with my parents...for the whole night..." Hermione stepped toward Harry, unrolling the whip as she did.

"Um, honey, listen, why don't we just go out for a nice dinner--" Harry began. Hermione flexed the whip between her hands and shook her head.

"I'm not in the mood for dinner."

"Well, why don't you take--that--off and I'll light some candles and we can--"

Hermione gave the whip a tiny flick, and the very end cracked against empty air. "I'm not in the mood for candles."

Harry took a step back, his shoulders bumping the closed door. "I don't think we should be doing this."

Hermione's eyes glinted dangerously. "Why ever not, Harry?"

He shrugged weakly. "We just...I mean...you're a mum now, Hermione."

The glint in Hermione's eyes sparked. "Mums can be sexy, too," she growled, advancing on him.

"Yeah, but honey--"

Hermione cracked the whip sharply, and the end hissed just to the left of Harry. He nearly jumped out of his skin. "Okay, okay! Mums can be sexy too!"

"That's right." Hermione stalked forward, and Harry pressed back against the door.

"I--I--what do you want?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"I want you to fuck me," she purred, fisting a hand in his robes, and his cocked twitched painfully. Harry moaned despite himself.

"I don't want you to talk about breast-feeding when you touch my tits," Hermione went on, shoving her breasts up against him. "Or even think about it--I know you do."

"I won't," Harry rasped, staring down at her pushed-up, leather-clad cleavage. "I promise."

"And I want you to stop referring to me as 'Mummy' when Janey's not even in the room." Hermione shifted against Harry so his cock dragged over the stiff leather of her bustier. He groaned, grabbing her arse with both hands to yank her closer and thrust against her.

"That's much better." Hermione grinned slowly. "Now come with me..."

She cracked her whip. "Someone needs a spanking."