Chapter 6

As was usual these days, the first thing Harry Potter felt when he woke up the next morning was the searing sensation of a pair of plump lips around the head of his cock. His hands involuntarily slid under the raised duvet, fingers threading through her silky locks as he gently caressed her scalp. Her happy moan made him smile.

Meanwhile, another pair of lips kissed over his chest and he felt her sinful tongue rolling around his nipple. Wordlessly he reached over and sank his fingers in her supple rear, pulling her closer.

"What a way to wake up," he chuckled and looked into the sultry eyes of Cissa who grinned and locked her lips with his.

Two hours and an extensive morning workout session later the threesome descended the stairs and his girls got to work. Harry sat at the head of the table, a mug of coffee in one hand as he raked his eyes over the Quidditch section of the Prophet.

He had invested heavily in Vratsa Vultures over the past few years and he was glad to see that the team was flying in the Euro League. They had an unbeaten streak of forty-nine games and last night's win made it fifty.

I should give Krum a visit. What a brilliant job he's done with the team, he thought.

Viktor had retired when the war escalated in Britain. Harry remembered him attending Fleur and Bill's wedding when the Death Eaters attacked, and the man had unfortunately been injured. Although the healers had fixed him imminently, his seeking skills had been severely affected.

When Harry bought the majority stake in the Vultures, Viktor was the first man he contacted. The man might not be able to play anymore but his mind was still impeccable. When he heard his plans for the club, he eagerly accepted the post of Sporting Director, and the work he had done in the last two years in particular was exceptional. The Vultures used to be a mid-table team at the most, rarely making it to the European level, but after the infusion of those South American talents, the team's level had skyrocketed. Now, they were the team to beat.

"Another win?" Cissa asked as she came over, levitating their breakfast in front of her. Harry smiled and nodded, watching as she deposited the plates on the table and pulled her in his lap. The woman giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I've got something to do this evening. What've you two planned for the day?"

"Nothing much," she tapped his nose with her index finger, smiling.

Harry nodded and flicked his wand. A bag of galleons materialized in front of him.

"Take Pansy with you and get some shopping done. Your robes are all well and good but I'm sure you'd love to start wearing something more appealing, particularly when you are indoors," he instructed, smirking.

"As you say, my lord," she purred. Harry chuckled as she tried to feed him.

"I can eat on my own, Cissa," he replied, making her pout. He sighed and relented, to her elation as she fed him.

"Hey, that's not fair," Pansy complained as she came over and perched herself on the armrest of his chair, leaning against him as she joined the blonde in feeding him.

Harry let them, enjoying the feeling of their curvaceous forms pressed firmly against him.

Truly, this was life.

-Break-

Harry left #12 Grimmauld Place shortly. Although he did not have much to do until the evening when Hermione had asked to meet him, it did not mean he could just skip his duties. He had the image of a diligent and responsible Head of Department to maintain.

The day was a monotonous one and it was five in the evening when he walked out of his office in the ministry. He greeted Madam Abbott who smiled at him as usual.

"The documents I asked for, Martha?"

Madam Abbott pulled out a small stack of parchments and handed it over to him. Harry waved his wand over it to see if it was sealed properly as it had been when he had first deposited it in the evidence locker, and he saw it glow a faint green. Having ensured that nothing was out of order, he smiled at the woman and made his way to the apparition point in the ministry foyer.

A few minutes later, a soft crack echoed in an alley right beside a small park just north of Heathgate and Harry immediately spotted her. Keeping a stoic look on his face, he approached someone who used to be one of his closest confidants.

Even from a distance, her nervousness was palpable. Her hands were folded together right in front of her as she stood against the lamppost on the sidewalk.

"Harry," she greeted with a small smile and took a step forward, her arms outstretched. Harry quickly raised his hand to stop her. Frowning, she slowly brought her arms down.

"Mrs. Weasley," he greeted with a nod. "You asked to meet me. Well, I'm here. I'd prefer it if you didn't waste my time and just got on with whatever it is you want to discuss."

Hermione's frown deepened and Harry saw her bite her lip in the same way she always did whenever she was nervous. Perhaps it would've made him feel for her someday, but those days were long into the past.

"Well?" He prompted further.

"Can we go somewhere private?" She asked with a pleading look. Harry looked at her searchingly.

"You could've just asked me to meet you at your house if you wanted to keep this private," he replied.

Hermione's grimace became more prominent and she mumbled something, her gaze affixed to the ground.

"What was that?"

"I said Ron doesn't know about this," she said.

That took him slightly by surprise.

"Well, I didn't expect you to go behind Ron's back and ask for a meeting. I won't lie and say I'm not curious," he replied, having the perfect idea about what she wanted to discuss. Still, he decided to play her little game. Toying with one's prey was a lot of fun, after all. "I'm not going to take you to my residence, but I do have a place that is private enough for this little chat. I hope you remember the house in Privet Drive?"

Hermione's eyes widened slightly and she nodded.

"Good," Harry said curtly. "Meet me there."

Without bothering to wait, he apparated away with a soft crack. Hermione stared at the spot he had just vacated before she pictured the destination in her mind and followed.

The first thing Hermione noticed when she arrived on the lawn of #4 Privet Drive was the lack of life in the neighborhood. It seemed this was another of those areas that had been abandoned during the war and people never came back. She looked at the house of Harry's relatives and knocked on the door. The door swung open a few seconds later and Harry stepped to the side, letting her enter. She walked in, looking around at the unchanged house, and heard him shut the door.

"Come in," he instructed, leading the way to the living room. She followed silently behind him, grimacing slightly at the sight of that cupboard under the stairs.

"Have a seat, Mrs. Weasley," Harry gestured. Hermione grimaced at the formal way he was addressing her. She nodded and sat down, looking around.

He noticed her gaze as he made himself comfortable.

"Yeah, not much's changed. Can't be bothered. The neighborhood is dead. Even I'm looking to get rid of this hovel. Too many bad memories," he muttered. Hermione winced slightly which Harry ignored. "This used to be mine the entire time, can you believe it? Those lowlives lived on my property and treated me like the lowest of vermin."

Hermione remained silent.

"Go on then," Harry leaned back and regarded her keenly. "What is it? Given how desperate you sounded in that letter, it must be something big for you to approach someone like me to help you."

Hermione winced at his tone, her eyes still downcast.

"I don't have the entire day, Mrs. Weasley," Harry sighed. "Could you get on with it please?"

There was a conflicted look on Hermione's face as she pondered where to start. Harry stared at her expectantly for a minute before he decided enough was enough. He shot to his feet, startling her.

"If you're gonna sit there silently then you're welcome to do it. My time is more important than you seem to think," he said curtly and made to walk away.

He felt a sudden tug on his arm and whirled around. Hermione quickly released him, as if burned.

"We got a letter yesterday morning," she said softly. "It is from some company called BetVault. They are—"

"A Quidditch betting company, I know," he replied, taking his seat again.

Hermione nodded.

"The letter was addressed to Ron," she whispered. "He… he's been betting on the Cannons and…"

Harry leaned back comfortably and stared her down as she trailed off, averting her eyes.

"Let me guess," he replied. "Your husband's been using the company's credit service to bet for a while, obviously attracted by those huge odds the Cannons always have against them and now he's in massive debt thanks to his foolishness."

Hermione could do nothing but nod shakily.

"How much red is he in?"

Hermione mumbled something again.

"Louder, woman," Harry said firmly. "I cannot hear you like this."

"More than a hundred thousand galleons," she whispered.

Harry stayed silent.

"I've been telling him for so long to not get involved in this business, but he never listens!" She cried out. "He won a few hundred once and since then, he's been thinking he'll get lucky. Last game, he was bragging how his team would pull off the biggest win in their history. See where it's got us now!"

"That is the least of your worries, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said curtly. The brunette looked at him with tearful eyes. Harry's response was to pull out a small stack of parchments and drop it on the table. He tapped his wand against it, unsealing them, and gestured for her to read through.

Shaking hands lifted the stack and she started reading. The more she read, the more her eyes widened until she was almost hyperventilating. Harry cast a few calming charms on her to keep her from losing control.

"W-what… you k-know…" she said faintly.

"Your husband is in more shit than you thought, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said firmly. "Not just betting, he tried to take part in match fixing. That was why he was so smug last time. Unfortunately, the racket was busted before anything could happen. He must've not heard anything about it if he didn't take off the bets."

Hermione stared at him in abject shock.

"Even if we leave the crippling debt aside, your husband is seeing a fair bit of time in Azkaban. Given how you've shared the signing rights with him as well, it will be your combined possessions that would take a full hit. Vaults, your apartment, your parents' house here in London. You are facing full bankruptcy, both of you."

The more Harry listed out what the future held in store for them, the fainter Hermione felt.

"And considering how you two owe this money to me, I am more than inclined to take you to the cleaners," Harry grunted.

Hermione felt as if someone had pulled the rug from under her feet. She looked at Harry with an ashen face, unable to speak.

Leaning back comfortably, Harry smirked.

"I own BetVault, Mrs. Weasley. It's quite a brilliant way to keep tabs on fixers and crooks. I've known about all of this for over a week now. You better believe your husband knows what he owes, and he's failed to honor his repayment, multiple times. That is why you got that letter reminding you what you owe the company," Harry replied.

"You own BetVault?" She asked in a whisper, eyes wide. "You knew it all!?"

Harry simply nodded.

"I could've stopped his credit anytime, but you can say I was curious to see how far he'd go," he shrugged, to Hermione's further shock. "Must say though, even I didn't think he'd be so foolish as to keep going at it. The bloke should've understood a long time ago that he was not going to win anything else, but then using his brain was never his strong suit, was it?"

"You…" Hermione whispered, rage coloring her voice as she leveled an accusing finger at him. "You pushed him down this path!"

"Put your finger away from my face, woman!" Harry hissed. Hermione recoiled under that vehement glare and immediately pulled her arm back. "You're still the same, aren't you? Blaming me for your husband's addiction? If you want to blame someone, blame him and blame yourself."

Hermione's face contorted into one of disbelief combined with rage as she stared at him, shellshocked.

"Then why the hell were you acting like you knew nothing?" She snarled. "Do you take some sick pleasure in being an asshole!?"

"For a matter of fact, yes I do," he replied nonchalantly before his eyes hardened. "What did you think exactly? That I'll forget what you two did and help you out like the selfless fool I was? That so-called people-saving thing doesn't exist anymore, Weasley. It hasn't existed ever since I was betrayed by my two closest allies when I needed them the most."

Hermione stared at him in disdain.

"So that's what all this is about, huh? It's all revenge for what we did? You conveniently forgot everything you did as well. Don't you remember, Harry? You called Ron's sister – the woman you loved – a whore."

"I still stand by that statement, although with one little modification. She's not just a whore. She's a vigorous whore."

To her credit, Hermione did try. She brandished her wand, no doubt to curse him something afoul, but Harry was faster. Barely a second passed and she found herself disarmed and bound on the couch.

"Let's see what I can charge both you and your husband with," Harry said as he twirled his wand about, staring at a bound Hermione. "You were the joint owner of his account with us, you remember that, right?"

Hermione squirmed in her place at that, cursing herself for giving in to Ron's pleading and agreeing to be the mandatory joint holder of the betting account.

"You owe me over a hundred thousand."

He raised one finger.

"Your husband is facing time in Azkaban for match fixing."

Another finger went up.

"And just now, you tried to attack me, the head of the DMLE."

Three fingers were held aloft in front of her and Hermione stared scornfully at him. She remained bound on the couch, her hands tied behind her and her wand having fallen on the floor. Harry carelessly levitated and pocketed it.

"After everything we've been through, I am very much inching toward bringing the full might of the DMLE and my name on the two of you," Harry hissed, his emerald orbs gleaming maliciously as he leaned forward. For the first time, pure fear coursed through Hermione as she sat there, bound and paralyzed. "Or we could come to an understanding. Your choice."

Harry leaned backward in his seat once again.

"I am willing to forego this debt you and your husband owe me. I'll even make sure his name doesn't come up in the match fixing fiasco," Harry stated calmly. "And I'll also overlook this little episode of foolishness from you. If only you agree to my terms."

Hermione was a smart woman. She knew there was a catch and there was no way she would ever trust Harry now, not after the lengths he had gone to bring her and Ron down. She knew she couldn't do anything against him. He was simply too powerful, both magically and politically, not to mention how socially well-regarded he was.

However, she also knew there was no way she and Ron could survive if Harry truly decided to go ahead with his threat. They did not have the money and they did not have any evidence to support their case. Ron was indeed involved in match-fixing. The proof was irrefutable and it made her hate him for the first time. She had trusted him but he had betrayed her in such an inconsiderate manner.

"What is your price?" She asked finally, and the feral grin was so foreign on Harry's face that she felt she was making a deal with the devil himself.

"It's very simple," Harry said, smiling benignly. "You will swear a binding magical vow to obey my instructions without any question or protest, and you will put your best efforts into it. No hesitation at all."

"What!?"

"Let me finish," he raised a hand to stop her from going on another word-vomiting round. "I'll not ask you to do commit any crime or anything that might put you on any law enforcement agency's radar."

Hermione looked at him with a furrowed brow, wondering just what he wanted her to do.

"For how long?" She asked.

"Looks like there's truly a brain between those eyes if you're seriously considering it," Harry commented, agitating her deliberately. "And for how long? Let's see. You owe me a little over a hundred thousand. Let's make it a hundred thousand for simplification. Let's also add fifty thousand per criminal charge. That makes it two hundred thousand galleons. The valuation of your vaults and all your properties totals at fifty thousand galleons, but I doubt you'd be willing to give any of it up. You need a place to live, after all. Your family's annual income after all expenses is what? Ten thousand perhaps? I'll let you do the math."

"Twenty years!?" Hermione cried out. "You want me to be your servant for twenty freaking years, Harry!?"

"We can always let the vow decide, if you prefer," Harry said with a shrug.

"What do you mean?" She asked curiously.

"Well, we can put this condition in the vow that you'll be released from it once it is deemed enough that you have repaid me, in whatever manner possible. You get a jackpot worth two hundred thousand? You can pay me off and the vow shall dissolve. Otherwise, I'm afraid it's work for you as long as your debt is repaid in the eyes of the vow. Sounds fair enough to me."

"Harry…" Hermione said tearfully. "Please… you don't have to do this. Did our friendship mean nothing to you?"

There was a long moment of silence as Harry stared at her.

"No," Harry said curtly. "I'm not in the mood for all this foolish drama, Mrs. Weasley, least of all from someone like you. Not after what you've done to me. You can take this offer or you can decline, in which case I'll be hauling you off to a holding cell right now while a contingent of aurors will shortly arrive at your apartment to drag your husband's ass to the ministry. Your choice."

Hermione stared, wide-eyed, at the medallion Harry put on the table in front of her. His wand was poised right over it, ready to send a message to an auror squadron at a moment's notice.

"I already told you I don't have time to waste, Mrs. Weasley. I'd like you to decide right now."

Conflicting thoughts raced through Hermione's mind as she pondered upon all the courses of action she had in front of her. There was no way she could decline Harry's offer. She had no money to repay the debt and he had all the leverage. Even if somehow they managed to gather a hundred thousand galleons, there was no way they could escape persecution from the DMLE.

Hermione seethed as she came to her decision. If being his servant and letting him degrade her to satiate his thirst for revenge let her keep their life then it was truly a no-brainer. She knew she was strong, and she could swallow the bitter pill of humiliation.

Harry smirked to himself when she gave a curt nod and he put both his wand and the medallion away.

"I'm glad you used your brain. Now, which timeframe do you prefer? Twenty years or the vow's judgment?"

"The vow," she glared at him. "I'll let magic decide my future."

"Suit yourself," Harry smirked.

-Break-

"Now that the vow is taken care of, I want you to call me Master from now on until this arrangement continues," Harry instructed firmly. Hermione grimaced but nodded in understanding.

"Good. As I told you already, I don't have time to waste, so I'd like you to get started right away."

"What do you want me to do?" Hermione asked, earning a raised eyebrow from him.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

The brunette grit her teeth. Keeping her anger at bay, she seethed, "What do you want me to do, Master?"

Harry ignored her tone and smirked.

"I'd like you to get down on your knees and crawl toward me. Make sure to convey proper obedience when you do so," he instructed.

Hermione's eyes widened but the vow kicked in. Immediately, she dropped to her knees and started to slowly crawl toward him. Her arms were still tied behind her back and so were her legs, making movement particularly troublesome. She persisted though and crossed around the table in the middle, sitting in front of him on her knees with her eyes downcast in submission. It was humiliating, but she would endure it. She had no other choice.

"Good job," he praised, and to her immense indignation, he raised his leg and caressed her cheek with his shoe-clad feet. Hermione was so shocked that she couldn't do anything more than stare at him with wide eyes. "Let's see if you're as good at some other job as well."

A foreboding feeling washed over Hermione as she stared at his face.

"What do you mean?... Master?" She asked, belatedly adding the salutation when his eyebrow quirked a bit.

"Make sure you don't make a habit of forgetting how you should address me," he chided. She nodded in submission. "Better. Go on now, unzip my trousers."

Hermione's eyes shot open wide in alarm as she realized just what he had forced her to sign up for. Her mouth opened to protest before the words were swiftly cut off as the vow kicked in. A sense of immense rage wafted over her as she understood just how Harry wanted to exact his revenge upon her and Ron.

Swallowing her protests, she glared, "And how am I supposed to do it, Master? My hands are tied."

"But your teeth aren't. They work, don't they? Put them to use then."

Harry could see the anger in her eyes and it further emboldened him. He had wanted his revenge for so long but he had held off from acting upon it until now. Not anymore. She and her pathetic excuse of a husband will suffer for their betrayal.

Hermione complied, leaning toward him and taking the zipper between her teeth. She slowly lowered it down and pulled back when it was at the base.

"Good girl," he praised. "What to do next? I'm sure you know what's going to happen now, and I'm also sure you can't pull all this down just with your teeth."

Hermione simply stared angrily as he waved his hand dismissively over his trousers and whatever he had on underneath.

"Well, never let it be said that I'm not a benevolent master," he said with a chuckle, and in one pull, he dragged his trousers down with his boxers, freeing his semi-hard member. For the first time, Hermione's eyes lay on a manhood other than her husband's, and several sensations ran through her. Repulsiveness, fascination, and a forbidden sense of wonder. She immediately quashed those emotions.

Harry smirked, having seen how she kept taking occasional glances at his manhood despite trying her hardest to keep her eyes away from what was undoubtedly a forbidden fruit.

"You can look at it. I don't mind," he taunted. Hermione's ire grew but she didn't oblige, seeing how it was not a command. Harry chuckled.

"Your next task is to get me ready, Mrs. Weasley," Harry emphasized who she was, reminding her once again that she was a married woman and watching in satisfaction how she had already settled into her role of an obedient servant. A little widening of her eyes was all she reacted with as she turned toward him, fixating her eyes on his slowly hardening prick. Just when she was about to lean forward, no doubt to take him in her mouth, Harry stopped her.

Hermione looked up at him only to see him smirking.

"I didn't ask you to give me a blowjob. A bit too eager, are we?" he chuckled as she pursed her lips. "No, Mrs. Weasley. You can blow me later. For now, put that mouth to a better use. Reach down properly and start playing with my balls. Make sure you put your all into it. I'd hate it if the vow has to push you. Do it so good that you get me ready without taking me in your mouth."

Hermione had already accepted that she had no choice but to go ahead with whatever he wanted her to do. As such, there was nothing she could achieve by protesting or acting reluctant. Even if she tried to, the vow would simply act up and force her to get on with it, and it was not a pleasant feeling whenever it happened.

Thus, without the vow forcing her to do anything, she leaned forward and took one of his balls in her mouth, rolling it around. She recalled everything she had read up on how to pleasure a man. Soon, her tongue joined the fray, lapping away at the uneven skin of his balls. She didn't simply do what was necessary, but she put her full effort into it. She began to drop kisses over his balls, her full lips pressing firmly over his testicles repeatedly while simultaneously lapping away with her sinful wet tongue as if they were some delicious treat.

She had not forgotten how he had asked her to put her all into it. She tried to recall what Ron liked. However, the moment she thought of her husband, her mind was filled with both anger and shame. Anger for the predicament he had pushed her in, and shame because she was cheating on him with someone who used to be their best friend. Unabashedly, she sucked his balls and recalled how much Ron liked it when she made eye contact with him during a blowjob. She looked up at Harry and found him staring back at her.

For Harry, that sight topped everything that had happened so far, which was admittedly not much. The vision she presented with her arms and legs bound behind him and her mouth gagged with his balls as she worshipped them whilst looking up at him with those eyes full of anger, shame, humiliation, and submission sent a thrill of pleasure through him.

He had been looking forward to seeing this sight for so long. This woman and her husband had betrayed him when he was possibly at his weakest and he had wanted them to suffer for all they did. However, he had held back for so long, letting them live in a false sense of security and knowing that one day, their perfect little world would be torn apart like shattered glasses. It had taken its time, but finally, their day of reckoning had come.

He would humiliate them and he would make them suffer. By the time he was done, they would curse the day they had decided to turn their backs on Harry Potter when he needed them the most.

Hermione was diligently doing what was asked of her, even though she was filled with nothing but shame and repulsiveness. She was enthusiastically worshipping the balls of a man other than her husband. She had never felt so humiliated before. However, if she thought this was the extent of her humiliation then she was sorely mistaken.

Her eyes widened when Harry reached down and gripped her hair harshly. She could not even cry out in pain with her mouth full of his balls. Looking up at him, she was further shocked when he grabbed hold of his prick and slapped her square in the face with it.

"Remember this when you go back home today and sleep beside your wretched husband, Weasley," Harry taunted as he delivered another smack of his cock on her pretty face. "Remember how you were sucking your former best friend's balls while he smacked your face with his cock. Remember how it felt to have the cock of someone other than your husband touch you so casually."

Hermione took it all in silence apart from the lewd sounds of her sucking on his balls. She could feel thick strands of saliva dripping down her chin and onto her clothes but she paid it no mind, engrossed in sucking his balls as instructed. She could afford nothing less.

So engrossed she was that she almost missed his next command.

"That's enough. You can stop," Harry instructed. With an aching mouth, Hermione stopped and pulled back. Her hands were bound behind her and she could not even wipe her mouth.

Harry smirked at her insolent face. She was defiant now, but soon, she won't be.

"It's bad manners to leave your spit on someone else's property, Mrs. Weasley. I thought you knew better," he mocked. "Go on. Wipe all that spit off my balls. I believe your face will make for a nice mop."

Hermione glared but did as she was told. Harry watched in satisfaction as she leaned forward and rubbed his balls all over her face, making sure she both covered it entirely and all her saliva was wiped off his nutsack. By the time she was done, her face was glistening in the light.

"You look really sexy like this," he praised. "A very natural look, I must say. You better make sure to go back home with a natural face every time from now on. My spit, your spit, my cum, your cum. Any will do."

Hermione's lips pursed at his remark. By now, it had dawned on her just what else she would be doing if magic didn't judge her debt to be over by then. She just hoped it would happen before she crossed that point of no return.

Harry smirked, knowing exactly what she was thinking. However, if she believed this predicament of hers was ending anytime soon, she was sorely mistaken. The settlement of her debt required him to be satisfied with her repayment. However, the pit of hatred burned like the inferno from hell inside him, and he knew it was not going to get extinguished anytime soon. There was no possibility that she could get those galleons to repay him either. He would make sure of that.

Hermione Weasley would be his plaything for as long as he held even an ounce of hatred for her and her husband, and her humiliation would only intensify with time.

He looked down at her kneeling form, face covered in spit and saliva, and smirked.

"You've done a fine job indeed, Mrs. Weasley. But I hope you're not tired. We've only just started," Harry said, tilting her chin up with his shoe-clad foot. He smirked at the look of affront she gave him at the disgraceful treatment. "This angers you so much, right? This feeling of humiliation, helplessness… I bet you're feeling so betrayed right now."

Hermione said nothing. She kept glaring at him.

Harry said in a mocking tone, "Afterall, how could Harry do this to me? He was such a good boy, always putting others before himself."

Hermione remained silent.

"Betrayal doesn't feel good, does it?" Harry asked with a toothless grin. "You have no idea how I felt back then. But you will. You will feel that and much more. Both you and that worthless excuse of a trash bin you call a husband."

"He's more of a man than you could ever hope to be, Master," she bit out.

"Oh, is that so?" Harry asked, amused. "Such a man that he all but compelled you to become my slut. I'm sure he's more of a man than any other."

Hermione gritted her teeth and looked away.

"You know it as well, Weasley. Deep inside, you know it is because of him that you've ended up like this," Harry sneered. "But I'm not interested in that cretin. He will get his soon enough. For now, I'd like you to do something else."

Hermione schooled her features and mentally prepared herself for whatever depravity he had thought of, knowing she had no other choice. She looked up at him resolutely.

"What can I do for you, Master?"

Harry smirked.

Her humiliation had only begun.

TBC.

Check out patreon.com/TheBlackEarl for early access and more of my work. Thanks for reading.