The Trouble With Marriage Contracts. (Patreon)

Notes: A Harry/Hermione/Daphne/Pansy short story. The idea was suggested by one of my Patrons and won the Monthly Poll. I hope you enjoy it!

Content Warnings: BJs, Exhibitionism, Kink Rooms, Edging, Bondage, Lactation, Breast Play, Threesomes, Spanking.

“We lead a slightly… unconventional life,” Hermione warned as she unlocked the door to Number 12, Grimmauld Place, giving Daphne Greengrass a nervous smile. She didn’t know the blonde Slytherin that well, having talked to her all of five times during all their school years, but the unique situation she was in meant that she needed her help.

Our help, Hermione reminded herself.

As the newly crowned (and youngest ever) Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, her duty was to help those legally wronged after all. As Head Auror, her husband had a similar job even if their responsibilities differed.

“Merlin, Granger, at this point I’m so desperate, if you told me shacking up with Bulstrode would help me feel better, I’d do it.”

“But not Malfoy,” Hermione said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’d rather die,” Daphne snarled in reply.

“As far as I can see, he did everything legally. I’ll try my best to get you out of your…situation,” Hermione murmured, frowning at the silence in the house. Usually, she was greeted upon her return by one of the other two occupants, or if they were busy, by Kreacher.

“Don’t bother. I’ve spent a week searching every library from Hogwarts to the one in Wizengamot for a way to get out of the contract. Everything he did is legal and above board and there’s nothing that can be done. I wasted a week of my life, Granger, while the magic triggered by the contract was driving me crazy. It was torture.”

“I…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just don’t act prissy about the situation, alright? You can be Mrs. Potter, I’ll be Mrs. Black. I’ll see him once a month or something to scratch my itch and everything else can be as it is now,” Daphne said nervously, running her hands over the sky-blue summer dress she wore to smoothen the fabric. She had selected her dress after careful deliberation, deciding it was her best bet to be as appealing to her future husband as possible without descending into outright ‘sexy’ territory.

“I don’t mind if you want to move in with us, actually,” Hermione said, nonchalantly. She hung up her coat on the rack, before moving to let Daphne do the same. “We’ve been looking for someone to spice up our lives ever since my ex-girlfriend, Melissa, left. Just didn’t think it would be you,” Hermione finished with a shrug, treating the entire thing like it was of no great importance.

Daphne looked at her, utterly bewildered by her words. But Hermione had already turned heel and walked deeper into the house, and Daphne had no choice but to follow.

“Ah. There you are,” Hermione said, pushing open the door to the renovated living room and walking inside. “Didn’t you hear the door open?”

“I thought Kreacher would come to greet you,” Harry answered, casually turning a page of the Daily Prophet. He shifted his hand in Pansy’s hair, gently pulling the kneeling girl deeper in between his spread legs. Pansy’s lips were wrapped around Harry’s cock, their pet dutifully swallowing inch after inch of Harry’s length even as she gagged and drooled around the thick shaft.

Hermione rolled her eyes. It wasn’t that uncommon for one or both of them to use Pansy for stress relief when they got home from work, but her husband hadn’t even bothered to change out of his official Ministry uniform.

“You’re getting dust all over our brand-new couch, husband dearest, not to mention the fact that we have a visitor. So why don’t you give Pansy a break and go get changed?” Hermione asked.

Harry bent the paper at her words, finally realizing his wife wasn’t the only one standing by the doorway. Daphne was standing next to her, watching the entire scene with wide gray eyes. Harry used his hold in Pansy’s hair to pull her free of his cock, casually dropping the paper on his lap to protect his modesty. He wasn’t quick enough to stop Daphne from sneaking a look at his throbbing manhood, however, and the blonde gasped quietly, pressing her thighs together as a gush of arousal leaked out of her aching pussy.

“I’ll uh… I’ll just-” Daphne turned and faced the wall to allow Harry to pull his trousers up, her cheeks the color of beetroots. He was… massive. And if things went according to plan, she would be railed by it before the day was over.

Would it even fit? She mused, forcing herself not to arch her back and press into Harry’s side as he slipped past her on his way out of the room.

By the time she had turned back, Pansy had gotten up and was casually buttoning up her blouse like she hadn’t just been caught sucking Harry Potter’s cock by her dormmate. Pansy limped over to Hermione once her perky tits weren’t on full display, bending and pressing her swollen lips against Hermione’s for a quick kiss.

“How was work?” Pansy asked, grinning as her mistress wrapped her arms around Pansy’s slender waist and pulled her closer.

Seeing Pansy smile was… odd. Displays of genuine happiness had been rare in Slytherin. Pansy had been ‘The Bitch’ to protect herself while Daphne had personally gone the ‘Ice Queen’ route.

“Well, it was frustrating and soul-sucking, so just like every other day,” Hermione murmured, leaning up to kiss Pansy’s forehead. “Did daddy have a bad day at work too?” she asked, locking her arm with Pansy’s. She offered her other hand to Daphne, who took it after a moment’s hesitation.

“What gave it away?” Pansy asked, allowing Hermione to lead her and Daphne toward the kitchen.

Hermione turned to Pansy with a knowing smile, and both she and Daphne took a second to study Pansy from head to toe. Their eyes moved from her messy sex hair, her swollen lips and precum and saliva-coated cheeks to her haphazardly buttoned blouse and finally to the slight limp with which she walked.

“He did,” Pansy conceded. “Some bullshit about the new Headmaster of Durmstrang offering some low-level Death Eaters asylum. Neither their Board of Governors nor their Government is willing to intervene,” Pansy explained as they walked into the kitchen-cum-dining room, blushing when her move to sit in a chair was stopped by an arm looping around her waist. She was pulled into Hermione’s lap, while Daphne took the chair opposite theirs across the dining table.

“Well, that explains the scene we were greeted with,” Hermione said, giving Daphne a wry smile.

“He told me he wanted to see me in the playroom after dinner. Alone,” Pansy whispered, shuddering with a mixture of excitement and fear. Her daddy and her mistress often acted as moderating influences on each other. Being with either one of them alone was a delicious torture she was never quite prepared for.

“Well, I don’t think that’s going to be possible tonight, pet,” Hermione murmured. She leaned back in her chair and propped her sore feet up on the table with a quiet sigh.

“Why not?” Harry asked, walking into the room. He had changed into a simple white form-fitting shirt that may as well have left him shirtless given how little it left to the imagination and comfortable gray shorts. Daphne clamped her legs together, whimpering quietly. “Did we have some other plans I’ve forgotten about?”

“No plans, no. But if you don’t sleep with Daphne within the next few hours, she’s probably going to go mad with lust so we are on a bit of a time limit,” Hermione responded.

“I feel like this is either a very late April Fool’s prank or a very early anniversary present,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow. “I think all of us would benefit from a bit of context.” He pulled Hermione’s legs into his lap and gently began to massage her aching soles.

Daphne wordlessly pulled out an envelope from her purse and pushed it toward Harry.

“You drafted a submissive contract and had her sign it too? You know, when you told me it was time to get serious in our search for someone new, I didn’t think you were this serious.” Harry turned to Daphne. “I presume Mione has explained what kind of relationship this will be?”

“It’s not a submissive contract,” Daphne squeaked, turning an even darker shade of red. She had been caught entirely off-guard, first by Hermione’s response, and now by Harry’s.

Well, I had no clue that they were so… sexually liberated. She reminded herself. Hermione is probably going to enjoy watching her husband sleep with me.

The way the brunette was looking at her, she would probably want to squeeze in a couple of rounds herself. An idea to which Daphne was not entirely opposed. She had never been with a woman before, but she fantasized enough times about the Holyhead Harpies’ lead chaser to know she would very much enjoy worshiping Hermione Granger’s slender legs and what lay between them.

“But it is a contract. A marriage contract,” Hermione said, voicing what Daphne seemed too shy to say.

“Leaving me for someone else already? It’s not even been five years, Mrs. Potter,” Harry said, groaning dramatically.

“The Marriage Contract is between you and her, daddy,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Pansy giggled quietly. She had never dared to be this bratty with Harry, but she always enjoyed the banter between husband and wife. “Just read it?”

“Alright,” Harry muttered, unfolding the parchment. He quickly scanned the contract, his frown deepening. “This is a Marriage Contract between the Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and the eldest daughter of the Greengrass family. I’ve been going through Sirius’ papers, but I haven’t come across anything like this yet. How old is this?”

“Thirty years,” Daphne replied. “It was probably meant to be for my mother and Sirius Black.”

“But Walburga lopped him off the old family tree,” Harry mumbled, deep in thought. “Then Regulus died.”

“Yep. So the contract stayed dormant, and more importantly, unfulfilled,” Hermione chimed in.

“I didn’t trigger this. As I said, I didn’t even know it existed.”

“I know you didn’t,” Daphne said softly. “Malfoy did.”

“How? Why?”

“He thinks he’s the Head of House Black. As for the why, any Black family member can trigger the contract, and he is in the family through his mother,” Hermione explained. “I bet he was in for a rude surprise when the contract bound you to Harry, and not him,” Hermione said with a wry smile, looking at Daphne.

“Griphook told me he had a meltdown right in the Main Hall of Gringotts and had to be escorted out. With the Ministry confiscating his assets, the Black family's fortune was what he was counting on to-”

“Continue being a rich bastard,” Hermione said, finishing Daphne’s explanation.

“You were far too kind to him in your testimony, daddy,” Pansy said venomously. She had nothing but contempt for the man who had hoodwinked her for six whole years, only to discard her like a soiled rag when she was no longer useful. She still had nightmares about her possible future if Harry hadn’t found her crouched in that alcove, sobbing her eyes out. Her master saw the best in everyone, even those who did not deserve it.

“What’s done is done, my sweet flower. No use crying over spilled milk,” Harry said, tossing the contract on the table. “Why is it urgent that I have sex with you, Daphne?” Harry asked, getting straight to the point without beating around the bush.

“There’s a lust charm that kicked in the moment the contract was activated. I’ve been fighting it for a week, but I can feel my sanity slipping now. In a day or two, I’ll go feral, with only one thought on my mind.”

“Sleep with Harry Potter,” Pansy noted.

“Yep.”

“Why doesn’t it affect me?” Harry asked.

“Only applies to the woman. To grease the wheels so to speak,” Daphne explained.

“Typical Pureblood bullshit.” Hermione snorted.

Harry gave Hermione a reassuring smile, then turned to Daphne and extended his hand. “Come on, then.”

“We’re doing it now?” Daphne asked, her eyes wide.

“I suppose you and Mione have been looking at the contract and there’s no way out of it?”

“Been at exactly that all day. Even if I can find a way, it won’t be before the charm overwhelms Daphne,” Hermione replied.

“And the charm is causing considerable discomfort to you, a discomfort that can only be relieved by us having sex?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Daphne answered quietly.

“Then we’re doing this now.” Harry grasped her hand, gently pulled the gorgeous blonde to her feet, and started leading her out of the kitchen. “Do you want it to just be the two of us?”

“W-what would you prefer?” Daphne asked, turning to look back at the massive grins on Hermione and Pansy’s faces.

“I would prefer to share this moment with the two people I love, but only if you’re comfortable,” Harry replied calmly.

“That’s… fine,” Daphne murmured, shivering with excitement.

“Guess I’m not the main course tonight, then,” Pansy teased, hopping off Hermione’s lap in excitement. She bounded up to the playroom, followed by her bemused master and mistress and an increasingly nervous Daphne.

“I’ve… just never-” Daphne murmured, sucking her lower lip between her teeth.

“Never what?”

“Well, not never. I’ve just… once. With Terence Boot. It was short and rather disappointing,” Daphne whispered. She had a sneaking suspicion her first time with Harry would be anything but short.

“It’ll be alright.” Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. She had no idea why, but she believed him.

Harry will take care of me, she thought as they walked up to the door Pansy was standing in front of. Her friend was shifting impatiently from one foot to another, waiting for her master to unlock the door to their playroom.

Harry kissed Pansy’s forehead before grasping the gold doorknob with his hand, the metal glowing slightly as it recognized his hand and unlocked the door. He pushed it open and walked inside the dimly lit room. Daphne followed him, her eyes turning to the size of pennies at the sight in front of her.

Fuck.

She had died and gone to heaven. The masochistic brat in her awoke with a roar, fueled by a playroom-sized fire.

“Take a second and explore. We have all night,” Harry whispered, moving to sit on the edge of the large bed set against one of the walls of the room. It was covered with the most exquisite red satin sheets, and at first glance would have even passed for a normal bed, had it not been for the manacles dangling from each of the four bedposts.

Maybe they need to rethink what they call this room, Daphne thought, taking an involuntary step deeper into the black-walled sex dungeon. She supposed she should have been disgusted and repelled by the sort of things Harry and Hermione liked to do to their sex partners. That should have been her expected reaction, being the prim, proper Pureblood heiress that she was. But as she studied the spanking table laid out in the very center of the room, running a hand over the cold steel of the cuffs jutting out from the soft leather, all she could feel was arousal. A deep yearning for Harry to claim her, fuck her, make her his wife.

“For the wrists and the ankles,” Harry whispered, moving to stand next to her. “Pansy squirms a lot while she’s being belted.”

“Oh.” Her response felt inadequate, but she didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t think a request to have her lily-white ass belted would be appropriate this early in their relationship.

Hermione had moved to sit in the large armchair arranged close to the fire roaring merrily in the large, ornate fireplace, bathing the room in light and warmth. She clicked her tongue and Pansy immediately sank to her knees and slowly began to crawl to her mistress.

“Undress,” Hermione ordered. Daphne watched, enraptured, as Pansy stood and shed one item of clothing after another without any hesitation, neatly stacking her clothes in a pile before kneeling back down in front of her mistress.

“Keep watching them,” Harry whispered, moving to stand behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Daphne couldn’t help the quiet moan that escaped her lips when her back hit the firm muscles of his chest. “Watch,” Harry repeated, gently grasping her chin and turning her face towards Hermione and Pansy.

Hermione had pushed a foot under Pansy’s chin, making her look up at her mistress.

“What are you, pretty flower?” Hermione asked, her foot traveling lower, tracing the gentle curve of Pansy’s small breasts.

“Your slut, mistress,” Pansy whispered, spreading her legs to reveal her wet slit.

“Does it excite you?” Harry asked. His hands were slowly moving up Daphne’s long, slender legs. She shuddered as they pushed under her dress, every contact his fingers made with her skin sent shockwaves down her spine.

“N-no,” Daphne lied. This was not the proper way to do things. A good Pureblood wife lay on her back and waited for her husband to put a baby in her belly. She did not fantasize about her husband tormenting her with all manner of wicked toys.

“No?” Harry pushed her legs apart, and she had been so distracted watching Hermione gag Pansy with a big bright red ball gag, that she hadn’t even noticed he had pulled down his shorts. She bit her lip to stifle her moan as his cock pushed in between her slick thighs.

“Your body betrays you, Mrs. Black,” Harry murmured, grabbing her panties and roughly pulling them down her legs. They bunched up around her ankles, effectively preventing her from walking and trapping her in place.

“I-I’m not your slut,” Daphne insisted, her eyes fluttering shut as his large, bulbous tip slowly pushed inside her hot, wet sheath.

“What are you then?” Harry asked, amused. His arms supported her limp body as he slowly pushed inch after inch of his thick shaft into her tight cunt. The flood of arousal leaking out of her helped somewhat, but even then, it was a snug fit. Her walls ached and burned as they were stretched to an unbelievable extent by his enormous girth.

“I… your princess,” Daphne gasped, nearly blacking out as his tip brushed against her G-spot. He still kept pushing, her pussy struggling to accommodate his length. Daphne hadn’t woken up a size queen, but she certainly was one now. The world around them disappeared, her attention solely focused on his arms supporting her, the gentle pressure of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her large, creamy breasts, and the massive erection she was certain she could feel right up in her belly.

“Please!” Daphne begged, groaning in disappointment when he pulled out of her. The disappointment only lasted for seconds and she screamed when he brutally pushed back inside, her entire body jerking forward with the force of the thrust, only to be pulled back into his chest.

“I… MERLIN!” Again and again, he repeated his action, her hips moving involuntarily in time with his thrusts as her body chased the release it had been denied for over a week.

“Did I give you permission to stop looking?” Harry grasped her chin, roughly turning her in the direction of the other two women. Pansy was now trussed up like a turkey, her legs bent at the knees towards her back, her ankles and wrists secured together with rope. Her pink lips were stretched obscenely around the massive ball gag, rivulets of saliva dripping down her chin and covering her pert mounds with a shiny coat of drool. Hermione’s foot was keeping her balanced on her side, making sure their pet’s naked body was in full view of her husband and his new wife.

SMACK.

Daphne’s groan intermingled with Pansy’s shriek when Hermione brought the riding crop down on her breast, leaving an angry red mark on her pale skin.

“F-fuck…” Harry hissed as Daphne’s pussy clamped down suddenly around him, her pupils blown with lust. He slowed down, determined not to finish before he brought her over the edge with him.

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

Daphne moaned, involuntarily straining towards the shrieking and sobbing girl as her mistress rained blows down on her breasts with the crop, almost like she wished to exchange places with Pansy.

“Do you like pain?” Harry whispered, his breathing heavy. He was still lazily pistoning in and out of her wet slit, keeping her on edge, driving her crazy by pausing every time she felt her release was within reach.

“Please…” Daphne wheezed, arching back into her husband, begging for mercy.

“Answer my question,” Harry murmured. His hands gripped the edge of her dress, his strong arms easily ripping the thin fabric into two. The lacy blue bra that was struggling to keep her bosom contained got the same treatment, and the flimsy lingerie fluttered to the floor, leaving her naked.

“A little?” Daphne squeaked, unsure what was going to get her to cum first, Harry’s lazy fucking, or watching Hermione fuck Pansy with the huge strap-on she was securing around her waist.

“A friendly game, daddy?” Hermione asked, sauntering over to Harry and Daphne. She licked her lips, her eyes taking in the vision that was Daphne Greengrass, from her shoulder-length platinum blonde hair, to her ruby red lips, down to her heavy breasts and the crinkled pink nubs that were rock hard with arousal. Hermione bent, wrapping her lips around one of Daphne’s teats.

She began to suckle, squealing in surprise when a thin squirt of milk shot out of the peaked rosebud.

“M-mistress please!” Daphne whimpered, too out of it to register what she was saying. Her body and her mind had accepted her new life, even if she didn’t fully realize it yet.

“Well, this is surprising,” Hermione grinned, pulling away. “How?”

“S-since the… OH MERLIN,” Daphne screamed. Harry had taken advantage of her distraction, his hand pushing in between her thighs. His fingers had quickly located her sensitive nub and begun to massage her clit with practiced precision. “The charm,” Daphne explained, her breathing growing labored.

“What?” Harry asked. His free hand moved up to Daphne’s slender neck.

Hermione simply parted her lips in reply, allowing Harry to see the milk she was rolling around on her tongue.

“W-want daddy to taste,” Daphne begged, seeing stars as Harry slowly cut off her oxygen supply.

“As you wish.” Daphne groaned, suddenly sandwiched between Hermione and Harry as the woman pressed into her, letting Daphne rest her head on her shoulder as she pulled Harry into a kiss, sharing Daphne’s milk with him.

Harry had stopped fucking her, simply content to stay sheathed in her slick, warm womanhood. Hermione’s hands ghosted over her generous curves as she kissed Harry, tracing the tiny bulge of her flat belly before going lower. She wrapped her hand around the base of Harry’s shaft and began to jerk him off even while he was inside her.

“You mentioned a game,” Harry murmured against his wife’s lips. He greedily rolled the few remaining drops of Daphne’s milk around in his mouth, desperate to savor its sweet taste.

“We both fuck our pretty Slytherin pets. The one who gets theirs to cum first gets to keep both for the night,” Hermione whispered.

“Y-you’re not… playing fair,” Harry whispered through shuddering, agonized breaths as Hermione’s free hand moved to his balls, gently massaging the sensitive, cum-engorged orbs.

“Don’t worry daddy, this one is a freebie for you and princess,” Hermione teased, turning to look at the blonde woman. She was too out of it to respond, her lewd moans intermingling with Pansy’s.

What a pair of Slytherins they were. The Princess and the Slut.

“We can have our game after dinner,” Hermione winked, increasing the speed of her hands.

Harry moaned, and increased the pressure around Daphne’s throat, rubbing her clit furiously in a desperate attempt to get her to cum with him.

Daphne didn’t need much coaxing. The combination of the lack of oxygen, Harry’s cock deep inside her, and the magically charmed strap-on poking into her stomach and coating her skin with the realistic cum leaking out of its tip was too much for the girl to handle.

“DADDY!” She came with a shriek, her red face growing darker at the sound of Hermione’s delighted chuckle. Her pussy clamped down around Harry’s massive girth, proving the final nail in the coffin for the man’s determination to hang on. Between Daphne and Hermione… he never really stood a chance.

“You’re… mine…” he whispered, his sweaty body leaning into Daphne’s, allowing Hermione to support them both as he came with a roar, shooting thick ropes of his seed inside Daphne and sealing their bond.

“What’s for dinner?” Hermione asked, pulling away after Harry had recovered, allowing him to carry Daphne to where Pansy lay, still mewling quietly.

“I picked up a pizza from Tito’s on the way home,” Harry replied, gently pulling Daphne free of his cock and laying her down on the thick rug next to Pansy. His cum trickled out of her pussy, a thin white trail making its way down her thigh.

“Good. I’m famished. Here you go.” Hermione handed Harry a vibrator identical to the one that she had stuffed in Pansy’s cunt.

Neither woman was paying any attention to the conversation between their dominants. Pansy’s blindfold had ridden up, and both of them looked at each other sheepishly, sporting identical silly grins on their faces.

“Thank you, Mrs. Potter.” Daphne groaned when Harry pushed the vibrator into her sore pussy, her legs trembling violently as he flicked the toy to its highest setting.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Potter,” Hermione replied, kissing Pansy before sauntering out of the room.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Black,” Harry whispered, giving Daphne’s firm ass a gentle smack before following Hermione out of the room.