Notes: Another one from the Harry Potter Discipline list. This is pure spanking smut to be read one-handed, posted here in the interests of rabid completism, and because, who knows? some people on here may be as naughty as me ;)
The countryside rolled by and a deep peace settled over the Hogwarts Express as the train embarked on the final leg home. The snack cart had come and gone; sated, some students were asleep, while others got a start on changing out of their school clothes. Harry and Ron were desultorily flipping through Chocolate Frog cards, although Hermione noticed that Harry's heart didn't seem to be in it and Ron kept stealing worried glances at his friend's face whenever he thought Harry wasn't looking.
Hermione thoughtfully turned the jar in her hands, looking at the unregistered Animagus scuttling around inside. "Harry, Ron," Hermione looked up at them, "I want a word with Rita. Do you think you could leave us alone in the compartment for a few minutes?"
Ron looked up. "You sure you'll be all right?"
Hermione smiled. "I've got her wand."
"All right then."
The boys got to their feet. Harry looked back to say, "We'll be arriving in an hour's time."
"I know," she said. "Half an hour at most."
No sooner had the compartment door closed than she stowed Rita's wand safely in her robes and got a good grip on her own. Bracing herself, she set down the jar and unscrewed the lid.
It was fascinating to watch someone retransforming back from their Animagus form, Hermione thought, especially when the size was proportionately so different from the original human form. She had only done it once so far, and it was fascinating. She shook herself. There was no time for games here. She only had a short time left when she could still use magic, and she intended to make the most of it. So she reined in her excitement at seeing the brownish-black beetle-wings shift, expand, elongate, flap and settle into folds of robes, the face ripple and change into the familiar, excessively perky bespectacled countenance, the hair mutate from the insect fuzz and grow out. She shuddered at the venom directed at her from her vanquished opponent, but steeled herself. She had the goods on Rita and she knew it. And Rita knew it too.
"Hello, Rita," Hermione endeavoured to keep the uncertainty from her voice. "In an hour we'll be arriving at King's Cross."
"Spare me the geography," Rita snapped. "Give me my wand and I'll be on my way."
"Oh," Hermione smiled, "not quite yet, Rita…"
"What? What do you mean?" Panic began to creep into Rita's voice, and Hermione's body warmed with renewed confidence.
"There's just one more thing before you get your wand back."
"What?" Rita snapped.
Hermione screwed up her courage. "I think you ought to be taught a lesson," she said sternly. "You hurt us all, most of all Harry, and you have to be taught not to do it again."
"What do you mean?" Rita snapped. "You've already told me not to write. I'm not standing for anything more!"
Hermione suppressed a smile. "You won't be standing."
"What?"
"Accio Rita!"
"Wha-"
The reporter whizzed through the air to land squarely face-down on Hermione's lap.
"What are you…"
"Impedimenta!"
Hermione shifted slightly at the weight of the adult woman on her lap. Although Rita was not a large woman, her build was considerably more substantial than Hermione's and her lower body was broad enough to hang slightly over Hermione's knees. She wrapped an arm around the narrow waist to keep the reporter from sliding off. "Rita," she said, almost tenderly, "I'm going to teach you a proper lesson."
The older woman couldn't move very well for the Impediment Jinx, but her head turned to face Hermione, her eyes wide as saucers. "You can't… You… Let me go this instant!"
"I don't know about that," Hermione said gently, easing Rita's robe up her hips with measured tugs: left-right-left-right...
"You nasty chit, if you don't let me go this instant…"
"One more word out of you and I shall tell the Ministry, agreement or no agreement," Hermione said smoothly. "Do you want me to do that?"
Rita shook her head once, tersely, lips pressed together with rage. She seemed to be waging some fierce internal battle.
"You see," Hermione went on smoothly, wriggling her knees to get Rita's robes right up, exposing her bare, fleshy thighs and a pair of white cotton knickers, "I did a little thinking and decided that while not writing is definitely good for you and that poison pen of yours, you still haven't been properly punished for all you put us through. I think you need a bit of reminding of what it feels like to be… hurt."
"But Hermione," Rita said in a wheedling tone.
"That's Miss Granger to you," Hermione said, a hint of sternness creeping into her voice.
"How dare you…" Rita fumed.
"I do dare," Hermione said sharply. "Our agreement still stands. If you take your spanking like a good little girl, you can still walk away and have a career in a year's time. Are we agreed?"
Rita's eyes flashed. "Y—es," she finally hissed.
"'Yes, Miss Granger'," Hermione admonished.
"Oh, this is ridiculous! Let me go!"
"Ri—ta," Hermione said warningly.
"Oh, all right," Rita said, in the tone of one who is putting up with another's foolishness.
"Ask me to start, then," Hermione crooned.
"Oh, really!"
"Of course," Hermione said airily, "there are a lot of careers apart from reporting. There's… oh, let's see… Knight Bus conductor… groundskeeper… nanny… cook…"
Rita emitted what could only be described as a growl. "All right."
"Ask me nicely for your punishment."
"Go on, get it over with!"
Hermione landed a light pat on Rita's bottom. "Ask me properly. Say, oh, "Please give me my spanking, Miss Granger."
Rita gritted her teeth. "Please give me my spanking, Miss Granger. Let's get this farce over with."
Hermione grinned ferally. She cast silencing and locking charms on the door, and flexed her hand.
"Now," Hermione sailed on, ignoring Rita, "for every smack, I want you to say, "Thank you, Miss Granger." If you don't, it won't count."
"No! I…"
Hermione took a firm grip on the wriggling woman, raised her hand high into the air and slapped it down onto Rita's cotton panties with a flick of the wrist.
"How dare you!"
She shook her head and smacked again.
"Ooh!" Rita emitted a huff of outrage.
Hermione's shoulder slumped. This was not working properly. "Sorry, Rita, but it seems we'll have to do it the hard way." Left arm still wrapped snugly about the reporter's waist, she used her free hand to pull Rita's knickers down to her knee-hollows, despite the woman's splutters of rage and protests. Hermione felt a strange fluttering in her stomach at the flattish expanse of dimpled buttocks and thighs before her; her thoughts flashed to her own skinny backside, comparing it with the lush womanliness before her... For a moment, she felt intimidated, but then steadied herself. "Remember to thank me. Ready?"
Ignoring the woman's shriek of outrage, she raised her arm high and smacked the center of Rita's bottom hard. There was no response. Once, twice, three times – no reaction. "Hmm." Hermione looked at Rita. "I'm going to keep doing it until you thank me, Rita."
"You sanctimonious little bitch!"
Hermione gasped with rage. "Right, you asked for it." She held out her hand. "Accio Ruler!"
"What?"
Hermione's Arithmancy ruler, the long, heavy, polished wooden one she used to draw up star charts, wriggled out of her bag and flew obligingly into her hand. She hefted it experimentally a few times while Rita's eyes widened in horror.
"You didn't say you'd use a…"
"I'm not."
"What? No!" Rita gasped as she watched what Hermione was doing.
Picking up her wand, Hermione gathered her Transfiguration knowledge about her, aimed it at the ruler and concentrated. Within moments, it thickened and broadened into a hefty wooden American-style paddle, with two rows of centimeter-sized holes drilled through it. "Let's try again." She raised the paddle and whacked Rita's left cheek with it experimentally.
The result was most gratifying. "Ow!" Rita squealed. The moment the paddle rebounded, a red mark appeared on the plump buttock.
"That one didn't count!" Hermione said cheerily as she delivered another powerful whack to the right cheek.
"Oh!" Rita's bottom-cheek was reddening to match the other one; it certainly looked as if it should hurt. "What do you mean, it doesn't count?"
"Remember? Count the stroke and say 'Thank you, Miss Granger'?" Whack-Whack! Two more hard blows belaboured Rita's dimpled and reddening cheeks.
Rita squirmed. She was clearly feeling some pain now. "Oh, all right, if it will make you feel better…"
"That's…" WHACK!
"Ooh!"
"No…" WHACK!
"Ouch!"
"…way…" A powerful THWACK!
"OW!"
"…to make it…" POW! An explosive hit. Hermione was finding her stride now.
"Aaiee!"
"…easier…" WHA-CKK!
Rita wriggled most gratifyingly over her lap like a little girl, her hot backside waving in the air to ease the pain. "Aow! Aaaoow! Oh, that hurts!..."
Hermione was finishing off her sentence "…on yourself!" A mighty THWACK! across both broad cheeks punctuated this admonition, followed by a most gratifying wail from Rita. The holes in the paddle were really doing their work; the bottom was already red and burning, and small purplish areas were visible. Hesitantly, she laid down the paddle and placed her cool hand on the broad expanse of sore, womanly buttocks, emitting a small "Oh!" of surprise at how scorching-hot the smacked skin felt under her palm, how the reddened, overheated flesh felt rough with the swelling inflicted by the paddle.
"Ooh! Oh!" Rita shuddered and gasped and squeaked as Hermione's cool hand moved over the tender, spanked areas. They felt burning-hot to the touch. Rita's squeak, Hermione thought, was almost like the sound she, Hermione, had made when she'd kissed Viktor. Funny how all human reactions sounded the same, she thought with clinical interest, whether you were in pain or in love. It was certainly clear that Rita wasn't enjoying this.
"Ready to take your punishment like a good girl now, Rita?" Hermione strove to put steel into her tone. She didn't think of herself as a cruel girl by nature, but a good spanking never hurt anyone, and Rita really had spread some pretty vicious lies. Lies about her she didn't mind, but Harry and Ron…
"Oh yes, Miss Granger," Rita whimpered, a tremor in her tone.
The shaking of the train had dislodged Rita somewhat; Hermione pulled her in tight with her left arm, getting a good, snug grip around the woman's waist, almost like an embrace. A small sound, no doubt of shame, came from Rita and the woman seemed to snuggle into her, her bottom wiggling. "Now, let's start again." She raised the paddle. "Ready?"
"Ooh. Y-yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Mmm. Yes, Miss Granger."
"Good."
Thinking of all the pain Rita had caused them, Hermione raised the paddle. Concentrating, she elongated it to cover both of Rita's ample cheeks. Then, the holes making it swish through the air, she swung it down with great velocity and watched as it impacted Rita's bottom, the nates compacting and bouncing back as Rita shrieked. "Aaoowwww, OW! Oh-oh-OH!" She shook her bottom and pressed closer to Hermione. "Oh, it hurts! Aie!"
Hermione stroked the back of her hand against the hot buttocks; heat seemed to be radiating off Rita's full behind in waves. As soon as she touched her, Rita whimpered and squeaked as if the very sensation of Hermione's hand on her poor spanked cheeks was more than she could bear. Sparing a little sympathy for the scorching, throbbing flesh – it did look painful – Hermione asked gently, "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Oh! Oh," Rita gasped, sounding contrite, "Th—thankyou, Miss Granger.. Plee-ease…" Hermione raised her hand, brandished the paddle, and cracked it down against the plump cheeks, with bruising force. WHACKK!! "Aahhh! Ow! Ooh! Oh, Miss Granger, thankyou… ooh, ooh… oh, Miss Granger, ooh!"
"That's better." Hermione aimed the paddle at the soft underside of the flattish cheeks, where Rita sat down. WHOCK! Her aim was perfect; it smacked so hard into them that Rita was driven forward with an anguished scream and nearly fell off Hermione's lap, kicking her legs in agony. As the paddle bounced off, Hermione could see bruises forming. Rita barely escaped overbalancing, both with the motion of the train and her own acrobatics, and ended up awkwardly straddled over one of Hermione's knees. "Aren't you forgetting something, Rita?"
"Aaahhhh!" Rita was dry-sobbing now, breathing heavily. Her substantial thighs dangled on either side of Hermione's knee and her warm body pressed closer into Hermione's, writhing with pain. "Ah! Ooh! Thankyou, Miss Granger!"
Hermione raised the paddle and brought it down again. It was getting a bit difficult to aim now that Rita's legs were apart, but she managed it, shrinking the paddle a little and getting in a resounding slap to the hot, purpling area she had just hit, causing Rita to emit a little scream and gyrate wildly. "Aieee! Ayee! Oww! Ow-ow! Thank you, Miss Granger!"
Hermione began to hit faster; she would have to stop soon before they arrived at King's Cross, and in any case, she could see, from the way Rita's bottom was purpling rapidly, that she could not keep this up much longer. WHACK! "Aou, aou, AOU! Ooh! Thank you, Miss Granger!" POWW! "Aghh!" More dry sobs. "Oh, please, you're spanking me so hard, you're killing me-e-e… ThankyouMissGranger!" Rita was flailing. The way she was panting and gasping made Hermione fear slightly for the woman's health, as well. She took a good grip on the paddle, determined to make these last strokes count. WHACK-K-K!
"AH! Oh! Thankyou, Miss Granger! Oh! I'll be good! Please!" Rita appeared now to be in so much pain that she could hardly keep her balance any more, apparently struggling to stay in place. She seemed unable to keep still; her bottom was doing a dance of pain over Hermione's right knee, up-down, back-forth.
Hermione flicked her wrist and aimed at Rita's sit-spot, bouncing the paddle off it with a flick of the wrist. It echoed like a pistol-shot. CRACK! Rita shrieked, a high-pitched squeal, and wriggled even harder.
"You didn't thank me!" You'd think she'd be intelligent enough to save herself more strokes, Hermione thought, and aimed again in the same spot, much harder. CRACK-K-K-K!
Rita's bottom was fairly sizzling by now; her legs kicked out wildly, and one shoe flew across the compartment. "Ahieeee! Oooo! Ohh! Thankyou, Miss Granger! Oh, I'll be a good girl!"
"That's better." Hermione noted the way the woman was panting and puffing, the sheen of sweat that covered her face. In good conscience she couldn't go on much longer. Still, she owed her at least three more, to make an even dozen smacks. The next, though, was noticeably lighter; Hermione was seriously concerned. Whack!
"Oh! Oh!" Rita said, her voice low. It seemed to be hurting her, though, because she was still moving up and down on Hermione's knee, obviously from pain.
But she hadn't thanked Hermione! The silly woman really WAS intent on making the punishment worse! "You're forgetting something again, Rita!" Hermione said, and raised her arm high to CRACK a very hard blow to the center of the bottom.
The paddle whizzed through the air and exploded across the bottom to raise instant blisters. Rita screamed. "Oh! Oh! Ah! I'll be good, oh please you're spanking me so hard, I'll be a good girl, OH!"
Unbelievable! "Rita, you didn't thank me!" WHOCK-K-K! Now the overheated, blistered sit-spot tasted the hard wood once more.
"Ah! Ah! Ah! AH! ThankyouMissGranger I'llbegoodI'llbesogood thank you thank you…"
Perhaps just one more, Hermione thought. The poor woman was sweating and panting and shuddering and bucking; she couldn't in good conscience punish her any worse.
"Last one, Rita," she said, trying to mask her worry with sternness, and, determined to make this last one count, laid into the already bruised centre of the cheeks as hard as she could. THWOCK-K-K!
"Aooowww!" Rita let out an inhuman scream, and then something happened that terrified Hermione; the woman's legs splayed completely over Hermione's knee, and she appeared to go into some sort of seizure. "Ah…ah…ah…" she panted, and shuddered convulsively once, twice, three times, before the swaying of the train rolled her off Hermione's knees and she dropped off her lap, wincing only fractionally when her raw bottom touched the compartment floor.
Hermione jumped up in concern. "Oh, no!" What had she done? What kind of fit was this? It looked a little like… but she didn't know of any fit that looked like that! Should she call for help?
But Hermione's nerves settled as Rita looked up at her with soulful eyes filled with a certain tenderness. Gone was the aggression, replaced by a deep, inexplicable satisfaction, as she said in a heartfelt tone, "Thank you, Miss Granger."
---------------------------------
"Okay, you can pull me in now, Dennis." Colin Creevey grinned beatifically as his brother hauled him back into their compartment from where he'd been dangling out the window. Settling into his seat, Colin excitedly rewound the tape he'd been filming through the window of the other compartment. "And they said I was silly to buy this video camera!" he exulted.
"What's going on, Col?"
Colin slapped his brother on the back as he rewound the camera. "It means, Den, that Pay-Per-View has just taken on a new meaning… and that we are not going to want for pocket-money until we leave Hogwarts."