Work Header

A Dream Away

Work Text:

The rain came down heavy as Pansy waited on the doorstep. She was trying to pluck up the courage to alert them to her presence, but she was finding it difficult. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever expected to end up being forced to take such a job.

Everything had gone sour after the war; her family lost their status, their money and their assets. Her parents had decided to stay with friends in France, but apparently, there hadn't been any room for Pansy, leaving her forced to fend for herself. With nowhere to live and no income, when she'd spotted the ad in the Daily Prophet for a housemaid, she'd jumped at the chance. Somewhere to live and earn money at the same time? Great. Certainly it would require duties Pansy had never even undertaken before, but she was a quick learner.

The interview for the job went worse than Pansy could have feared. It turned out the couple looking for a housemaid were none other than Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger: her rivals back in Hogwarts. She'd almost turned around and walked away then, but she forced herself to think of the dire situation she was in and completed the interview, trying to remain as professional as she possibly could.

They hadn't told her much about the job, only that she'd be required to do any task asked of her and in exchange she'd receive money and board. They didn't have a big house, and Pansy still had the use of her magic, so she supposed it wouldn't be too bad. The worst would, of course, be their company, but they both had high-flying jobs so she expected them to be out most of the day.

Hermione enthusiastically informed her that she'd got the job at the end of the interview, which Pansy was rather surprised about. She hadn't thought they'd want to be anywhere near her, truth be told. That was three days ago, and now she found herself struggling to knock to start her journey.

Taking a deep breath, Pansy knocked on the door once, twice, and then again when there was no answer. Eventually, Ron answered the door, looking rather pissed off; presumably she'd interrupted whatever it was that he was doing. No wonder they needed a housemaid if they couldn't even be bothered to answer the door themselves.

"Come in," Ron said gruffly, shutting the door behind her. The entrance way was small, much smaller than anything she was used to, but it was a town house so she supposed it was tall and thin as opposed to wide and spacious. He led her to the first room on the left and guided her in. "Sit on the sofa. I'll go get Hermione."

"Right." Pansy unbuttoned her coat and sat down, looking around the room. It was characterful with period features, though it wasn't anything she would have chosen. Two sofas were in the centre of the room, a fireplace in between them on the far wall, while a writing desk sat in front of the large window. Ron took so long coming back that she thought he'd forgotten about her, that she might have to go looking. He entered with Hermione in tow, who had a clipboard and a folder underneath it.

Oh dear, Pansy thought. What have I let myself in for?

"Welcome, Pansy," Hermione said cheerfully as she and Ron sat on the sofa opposite. She was so cheerful that it made Pansy uncomfortable, especially considering Ron looked anything but cheerful. "We have quite a lot to go through this morning, and then you can get started this afternoon." Hermione opened her folder and took a quill from one of the pockets, poising it over her clipboard. "The first thing you should know is that Ron and I have rather... unusual tastes."

Pansy quirked an eyebrow; they didn't mention that at the interview. "Unusual tastes? How so?"

"There are rules we expect you to follow," Ron chimed in. He ran a hand through his growing hair and avoided her eyes. "When we said we expect you to do any task put to you, we meant any task."

"Why are you being so cryptic?" Pansy was confused and getting a little frustrated; she wished they wouldn't beat around the bush so much. She was a Slytherin, surely they could just tell her what they wanted?

Ignoring her, Hermione ploughed on. "You will refer to Ron as 'Master' and myself as 'Mistress' at all times." She cleared her throat daintily. "Any guests will be 'sir' and 'ma'am'."

Well, that's definitely unusual, but it was doable, if that's what they wanted. "Fine."

"There's a dress code that's to be strictly adhered to, and of course a code of conduct as well." Hermione flicked through her folder and pulled out two pieces of parchment, which she handed to Pansy. Pansy quickly scanned both sheets; they wanted her to wear a maid's uniform, and there were specifications as to what size heel she was able to wear. The code of conduct took up both sides of the parchment, and basically directed her upon how she was expected to behave under their roof. "Here," Hermione passed Pansy the quill. "You'll need to sign both at the bottom."

It all seemed a little peculiar to Pansy, and reading the parchments didn't sway that opinion. It was quite clear from the code of conduct that if she broke any rules or misbehaved, she'd be punished. It didn't say exactly how she'd be punished though, which was a little concerning. It could mean anything. It also stated that if she wanted to end their contract, she'd have to give a month's notice, so it wasn't like she could just turn around at the first hint of anything she disliked and walk out. She looked at Hermione and Ron; they were watching her intently, seeing if she'd agree to their commands. Pansy knew she had little choice, so she went ahead and signed the parchments, passing them back to Hermione.

"Wonderful." Granger beamed from ear to ear as she reorganised the parchments back in her folder. Pansy had no doubt that that folder contained everything to do with her appointment here, and probably a lot of background on her, too. Hermione was efficient like that, even if Ron wasn't. "This folder will be kept in that desk drawer," Granger pointed to the one behind her, "so if you ever need to check the rules, you can."

Pansy nodded; at least she wasn't expected to remember them all right now.

"Come," Hermione said, standing. "I'll show you to your room and then you can get appropriately dressed."

Following Hermione out the room, she looked over her shoulder at Ron as they left. He seemed awkward and uncomfortable, quite in contrast to his very excited wife. Who'd have thought Hermione was the more open of the two of them? Hermione led her up the stairs, then up some more stairs, and then some more. After three flights they finally reached the top floor, so Pansy was clearly being kept out of the way. Only one room resided on this floor, but as it took up most of the floor, it was rather large, and there was a door in the far corner which she assumed to be a bathroom.

On the double bed was a maid's uniform already laid out. It looked about her size, and Pansy knew she could do any adjustments to it that were needed.

"This is your private space," said Hermione. "That's your bathroom over there. The wardrobes contain three or four other uniforms and a selection of shoes. You're expected to be on duty at all times; twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There is no break. So you always need to be appropriately presentable."

"Pyjamas?" Pansy asked, looking through the window to the view of London.

"There are two appropriate sets in the draw beside your bed." Hermione turned towards the door. "Get dressed and come on down."

Pansy nodded, but Hermione raised her eyebrow; it was clear what she expected. Pansy took a deep breath and then said, "Yes, Mistress." The word felt strange upon her tongue, especially considering who she was saying it to.

Once alone, Pansy inspected the uniform. It was a traditional black one with a little pinny on the front, with accompanying fishnet tights that she thought were rather tacky. She put it on and found it was a perfect fit, but she gasped loudly as she checked out her appearance in the mirror and saw just how much cleavage she was being forced to expose. The dress itself was rather short, came just under her arse, so she really was showing off an awful lot. It was definitely something she'd wear to tease a potential man or two, but wearing it in front of Ron and Hermione was something else entirely.

The heels she found in the wardrobe weren't too high, thankfully. They were merely kitten heels, which would enable her to walk sensibly up and down the many stairs in the house.

Fully dressed and ready to go, Pansy glanced at herself in the mirror and then carried on walking out the room. She knew if she stopped to look at herself fully she'd never dare go downstairs looking as she did, so she tried to forget exactly what she was wearing and focus on anything else.

She heard voices coming from the room behind the stairs, so she pushed the door open to find a rather large kitchen with a dining table in the centre of it. Hermione and Ron were sat at the table, and Hermione was in the middle of showing Ron something in her folder. They both looked up when she entered and Pansy suddenly felt hot and bothered.

"Excellent," said Hermione. "It fits."

Pansy nodded.

"Well, you can start by doing last night's washing up," Hermione remarked, then added, "without magic."

Pansy's eyes lifted from Hermione's to the sink behind her, where there were several plates, bowls, pans and cutlery. It looked more than just last night's washing up, but she didn't dare say anything. She'd never washed up anything before, not even using magic, and the thought of ruining her nails by doing it by hand made her rather annoyed. Why on earth it was important she didn't use magic, Pansy didn't know, but she rather suspected it was merely to see if she would do it.

They'd said they had rather unusual tastes, and doing the washing up wasn't one of them, so they appeared to be starting her off lightly. For that, she was grateful, even if she didn't really want to mess up her nails by doing the task.

As Pansy stepped behind the two of them and cleared the sink, ready to fill it with hot water, Ron stood up.

"I'm off to work." He gave Hermione a rather formal peck on the cheek, then sipped the last of his cup of tea before he left.

"Here." Hermione handed Pansy the cup he'd just finished. "You can wash that, too."

"Yes, Mistress." It wasn't any easier giving Hermione such a title the second time round, either. Especially when Pansy didn't really think Hermione had done anything to deserve it.

"I've got some papers to finish in the study. When you've finished washing, drying and putting everything away, I want you to kneel on the floor until I return."

Pansy raised an eyebrow, but as soon as she caught Hermione looking at her, she tried to neutralise her expression. She turned the tap on and waited for it to fill up while Hermione gathered her things and left with a stern expression upon her face. Pansy knew it would take quite a while to do everything Hermione had asked, but she didn't mind that so much as at least it meant she might not be kneeling for too long.

Over an hour later, when all the dishes had been washed, dried and, after quite a lot of searching through the kitchen to find the appropriate places, put away, Pansy found herself kneeling on the cold, tiled floor. After fifteen minutes, it was taking its toll on her knees. She tried to take the edge off by leaning to the side and putting her weight mostly on her thighs, but that was rather uncomfortable and didn't give her much reprieve.

Another half an hour passed before Hermione appeared, and Pansy immediately shifted from her awkward side kneel to a proper one. She spotted the frown on Hermione's face and looked away, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"We're going to have to work on that," Hermione said haughtily. "You'll be required to kneel for quite some time each day, so you'd better get used to it."

Pansy said nothing, instead staring at Hermione's tight-covered feet; it was easier than meeting her disappointed face. Pansy didn't care that she'd disappointed Hermione, she just didn't want that sentiment to express itself on her face and end up in trouble for it. Hermione had mentioned there would be punishments, and Pansy wanted to avoid finding out exactly what they entailed for as long as she possibly could.

"We need to talk." Hermione sat down on one of the dining chairs and pointed at the one next to her, so Pansy stood from her tired knees and sat down. "I want you to be completely candid in your answers – you won't be punished for them. It's just information we need to know."

"Okay." Pansy noted Hermione had her clipboard out again, quill at the ready. Whatever information Pansy was about to divulge, Hermione was going to write it down.

"Are you a virgin?"

Wow. Pansy did a double take, her mouth wide open at Hermione's blatant question; Hermione was not beating around any bush in her attempt to extract such information. "Um, why do you want to know?"

Hermione smirked; it was an expression Pansy had never thought she'd ever see on Hermione's face. "Come on. I told you Ron and I had unusual tastes... you must have figured out this is more than a simple housekeeping job."

"Er, well, I, hadn't really paid much mind to it. So you're into a bit of kinky sex. Who isn't?"

"It's a bit more than just kinky sex for us, Pansy." Hermione placed the clipboard down and patted Pansy's knee.

"It's a lifestyle. A lifestyle we want to share with you. We're paying generously, as you know all too well."

"Right." Pansy was starting to feel a bit hot under the collar; she was clearly getting in more deeply than she'd ever thought possible.

"So." Hermione picked up the clipboard once more. "Are you a virgin?"

"No," she replied. "I'm not a virgin."

"Tell me more."

"Draco... in sixth year."


Nearly two weeks had passed after that uncomfortable conversation, and things had been slowly increasing in intensity. They were all tame, but Pansy could see a definite future. Most days she spent cleaning and tidying the house while Hermione and Ron were at work, and making them breakfast, dinner and dessert. They did seem to like their desserts. It was all fairly standard stuff for a housemaid and most of it didn't bother her, though she'd had to learn it all from scratch.

On their days off, Hermione and Ron had spent their time training her. They had a certain standard they wanted her to live up to, and it was high. She'd been taught many positions, which she was expected to jump into as soon as they were commanded. Remembering them all was tricky though, and she hadn't got round to learning them all yet, much to their dismay. They'd taught her how to kneel to their satisfaction, how to properly serve dinner and guests should they have any, and the etiquette she should follow were she not given any direct instructions.

Night-time was a completely different kettle of fish. Hermione and Ron were intimate most every night, and though Pansy had not been asked to join in just yet, they'd insisted she be present for their lovemaking sessions. They said it was to get her used to being in such an environment, so she would be comfortable with them when the attention turned on her.

At first, it had been nothing short of awkward and she hadn't known where to look, but now, she couldn't deny (as much as she wanted to) that she actually got wet from watching them. They were both in peak physical shape; Hermione had exquisite, pert breasts, though they weren't as large as her own. Hermione also had a lovely round bottom, and a full bush which concealed her mound well. Ron was well-hung; even bigger than Draco had been, and she'd thought he was large. He was ordained with many a freckle, which Pansy found rather endearing, particularly on such a buff body. He didn't have a six pack, but he was certainly on his way to one.

Tonight, Pansy was going to join in. She was apprehensive and anxious as she cleared the plates from the table, knowing what was to follow. They were skipping dessert tonight, simply to have more time to focus on her. She started to run the tap to do the washing up, but Hermione called her name quite shrilly. Clearly, they couldn't wait for her to finish her usual duties.

As Pansy entered the hallway with Ron and Hermione, she noticed Hermione nod towards the stairs. Pansy began to climb them, then felt Hermione's hands on her back pushing her down.

"No, girl," Hermione said softly. "Crawl up them. We want to see that pretty little arse of yours."

Pansy dropped to her hands and knees, slowly crawling up the carpeted stairs. She heard them follow after her, knowing their eyes were trained on her behind. When she reached the top, she awaited on her knees for them and, without specific instruction, crawled after them into the bedroom. Each day she was learning how to behave exactly how they wanted her to, attempting to pre-empt what they would ask her to do before they could say it.

"Undress me," Hermione commanded, and Pansy stood up to obey. She'd been asked to undress both Hermione and Ron every night since she'd arrived, so it didn't make her embarrassed anymore. She made short work of it, folding Hermione's clothes up and placing them on the dresser. She turned to Ron, but he shook his head and pointed to the floor, so she knelt before him.

Now naked, Hermione crept onto the bed and spread her legs wide. Ron looked from his wife to Pansy, then bent down and took Pansy's chin in his hands. "I want you to make her wet for my cock, little one."

Pansy avoided his gaze, but tentatively, she did as she was asked. She got onto the bed and positioned herself between Hermione's legs. Heart beating ten to the dozen, Pansy reached out her tongue and lightly traced Hermione's pussy lips.

"Harder." Hermione gripped Pansy's hair, their eyes meeting for a brief second, and then pulled her further into her cunt. Not wanting to disappoint on her first sexual encounter with them, lest they decide she wasn't worth it and would prefer a different housemaid, Pansy began licking Hermione like her life depended on it, which, it kind of did. The taste, though unusual, wasn't repulsive, which actually surprised Pansy. She'd never really thought about women sexually before, with Draco the only lover she'd ever known, so this was entirely new to her. The low groans coming from Hermione made Pansy think she must be doing something right, so she was a little miffed when she felt Ron's hand on her shoulder, pulling her back.

"Floor," Ron said quietly, positioning himself at Hermione's entrance. "It seems you've done your job well."

Pansy blushed and looked away from his smirking face, but out of the corner of her eye she could see, and subsequently hear, them fucking. She couldn't deny it made her wet; she'd always been a sexual being, even if she'd only had the one lover. She'd had a much more insatiable sexual appetite than Draco ever had.

Hoping they were too busy focusing on themselves to look at her, Pansy snuck a hand down into her knickers and began to touch herself. She rubbed her little nub as she watched their passionate encounter, enjoying the moans and groans emanating from both of them. It didn't take her long to reach the edge, and as she rode along it, she let out an unmistakable gasp.

Ron turned around immediately, and Hermione's eyes were now focused on her. She knew she'd done something wrong and pulled her hand out from her sodden knickers, but it didn't make a difference—they'd seen and heard her.

With raised eyebrows, Ron pulled out of an annoyed Hermione and made his way over to her. His cock was hard and slick with Hermione's juices. "Did I say you could touch yourself?"

Pansy shook her head and looked at the floor. "No, Master."

"Did Hermione?"

"No, Master."

"And to think," Ron said softly, "you'd done such a good job earlier. We'd hoped to ease you into this, but it seems you're more a wanton slut than we'd first thought. Perhaps we should give you a more starring role. What do you think, Hermione?"

"She needs to make amends for interrupting us."

Ron fisted a hand in Pansy's hair and brought her up from her knees. He guided her over to the bed and practically threw her on it. Splayed as she was, she couldn't protect herself from the hard spank he gave her as she struggled to right herself.

"Lie on your back, little one. Head at this end. Hermione, all fours, facing the other way."

They all got into position, and Pansy soon knew exactly why Ron had wanted her beneath them. All she could see was Hermione's wet cunt, followed by Ron soon entering Hermione's pussy once more. He resumed fucking her with vigour as though they'd never been interrupted at all.

"Lick my balls."

There was in no doubt as to who Weasley was talking to. This was a task she knew; many a time had she devoured Draco's balls. She lifted her head and began eagerly licking as they fucked above her. She wanted to touch herself again, resume where she was at; she'd been so close. But she knew she couldn't do that, not without their permission.

Both Ron and Hermione were growing near to climax. They were fucking faster and faster, making it harder for Pansy to accurately caress Ron's balls with her tongue. She tried, though, boy did she try. If for no other reason than to see her own orgasm at the end of this if she'd performed well.

Pansy nearly jumped out of her skin as Hermione screamed Ron's name as she came, shaking vigorously. She didn't squirt, but some of her juices did fall down onto Pansy's face. Clearly exhausted, Hermione pulled away from Weasley to lie down next to Pansy. Her orgasm seemed to have spurred on his, for he'd begun wanking himself with his hand, subsequently coming all over Pansy's face; she only just managed to close her eyes in order to avoid getting his semen in them.

Hoping she'd done enough, Pansy decided to ask about her own orgasm. "May I...?"

"May you what, little one?" Ron asked as though he didn't know what she could possibly be referencing.

Biting down on her frustration, Pansy reworked her sentence. "May I please come, Master?"

Ron laughed. "Oh, I don't think so. You need some punishment for interrupting us by touching yourself without permission, don't you think? A few moments more and I'm sure you would have orgasmed too. Just be glad you didn't."

Pansy wasn't glad she didn't. In fact, she was really wishing she had; her cunt was still throbbing, aching to be touched. A caress or two and she'd be sent over the edge, but alas, Ron had decreed it was not to be.

Frustrated, Pansy lay there, awaiting her next instruction. She heard Ron fumbling with something behind her while Granger panted heavily next to her. Ron suddenly appeared in her view with a wizarding camera, and before she could cover herself up, the flash went off.

"Lovely," Ron said with a note of amusement in his voice. "You look simply lovely with my spunk all over your pretty little face."

Now there was photographic evidence of her debasement, Pansy knew she couldn't put a foot wrong. She didn't want anyone knowing how low she'd had to sink.


When Pansy entered the living room the next morning, Ron was already there; he was sat on the sofa reading the paper. He looked up at her arrival and smiled devilishly, then clicked his fingers.

Thinking she knew what he wanted, Pansy knelt down next to him, but he shook his head.

"No, girl," Ron corrected. "All fours. You're to be my footrest for a while."

Feeling rather humiliated at such a simple request, Pansy avoided looking at his face and complied. His legs on her back were rather heavy, and she had to stay quite firm in order to not buckle under him. It was already a strain; she didn't know how long she could keep it up.

"Morning, darling."

Pansy looked up to see Hermione entering the room in her dressing gown. She looked bemused by the situation in front of her, but she didn't comment on it, much to Pansy's relief.

"Have you told her yet?"

Ron shook his head. "No. I was waiting for you."

"Okay." Hermione headed into the kitchen. "I'll just grab myself a cup of tea since you're keeping her busy and then we can tell her."

Pansy didn't like the way this was going; they knew something she didn't. Apparently not for long, though.

Moments later Hermione came back in and sat on the armchair beside the sofa, placing her tea on the coffee table beside Pansy.

"Pansy, dear," Hermione began, eyeing Ron as she spoke. "We're entertaining tonight. You'll be serving, as we've been teaching you."

Eyes wide, heart racing, Pansy couldn't believe what she was hearing. In shock, she moved back from her position, much to Ron's annoyance.


Hermione placed a hand on Ron's knee, presumably to calm him down. "There's no need to worry," she said. "Just remember what we've taught you. It's only Harry."

Pansy bristled; she didn't want Harry Potter to see how far she'd fallen. She wanted to protest, to scream and shout, but she knew it would be happening regardless of her feelings. That was her life now, she knew that.

"He won't...?" She tentatively asked, not really wanting to finish the sentence.

Hermione smiled. "No, he won't be touching you. Not tonight, anyway."

The way Hermione said that made Pansy believe they had plans in the future to share her. Not really wanting to entertain that prospect, she put it to the back of her mind, ready to focus on the night's proceedings. She really hoped she could remember everything they'd taught her; she didn't want to show them up so badly they decided to get rid of her.


The doorbell rang, signalling his arrival. With a deep breath, Pansy steeled herself and headed towards the door in her maid's outfit. She hoped he knew about her; it would be awkward to have it be explained while she was there.

When she opened the door, they just stood staring at each other for a few moments. Then, Harry smiled at her and entered.

"Let me take your coat," she said quietly, meekly returning Harry's smile. She placed it on the stand by the door and then led him into the kitchen. An hour earlier, she'd prepared the table and the food was nearly ready.

"Please, sit down."

"Food smells lovely," Harry commented as Pansy took to the oven to check on the Shepherd's Pie. It was a simple dish, but she still didn't have much cooking experience.

"Thank you, sir."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as she entered the kitchen with Ron following behind.

"Alright, mate?"

They all sat at the table and began talking while Pansy finished up the meal. She plated it up and tried her hardest to remember the etiquette Ron and Hermione taught her as she began serving. There were no immediate reprimands, so she was clearly doing something right. This gave her extra confidence, and she felt her nerves start to disappear.

When everyone had food and drinks, Pansy knelt in between Ron and Hermione. Her tolerance for kneeling was increasing; she was able to kneel for longer periods of time without her knees getting too sore. She knelt there for a long time; the trio had a leisurely chat as they dined. Just as her knees were starting to go numb, Ron clicked his fingers and Pansy rose at once. Everyone had finished, so she cleared the table dutifully.

"What do you think of her, Harry?" Hermione asked, patting Pansy's back as she picked up her empty plate.

"She's er... interesting."

Ron snorted with laughter. "Yeah, interesting just about covers it."

"She's interesting," conceded Hermione, "but are you interested?"

Pansy began to blush at the turn the conversation was taking. She avoided everyone's gaze as she grabbed a cloth and cleaned the table.


"How very non-committal of you," said Hermione, sounding disappointed.

Pansy supposed that even if Harry were interested in her, he probably wouldn't say outright in front of her. He'd always struck her as a gallant sort of man, and while Ron and Hermione had had a long time to get used to Pansy's presence, Harry hadn't. It seemed only natural he would be rather awkward about discussing his desires in such a way.

"Maybe we should retire to the lounge," Ron suggested, seemingly to diffuse the situation. "Pansy, go wait in our bedroom, on the bed on all fours. I think we need a little chat with Harry."

Pansy nodded and took off upstairs, only quickly glancing at Harry as she did so. He was bright red and appeared rather hot under the collar; perhaps he did want her after all. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Initially, she hadn't wanted him to see her in such a state, but now he had, and he seemed to be relatively okay with it, she found herself curious about what he would be like in bed. She wondered if he would remain the polite, kind, gentleman or whether, like Ron, he would turn into an animal.

These thoughts plagued her as she patiently waited for Ron and Hermione to come up to her. It must have been at least an hour before she heard the front door go, and then footsteps on the stairs. She tensed in anticipation, wondering what they had in store for her tonight.

"Good girl," Hermione said soothingly as they entered and started taking off their clothes.

Pansy got the impression they wanted something quick tonight, for they weren't asking her to undress them like they usually did. She hoped beyond hope they'd let her have an orgasm; last time she'd been denied because she'd touched herself without permission, but she wasn't going to make that mistake this time. She was going to listen to every instruction and make sure she followed to the letter.

Getting on the bed, Ron lined himself up at Pansy's entrance; she could feel his large cock touching her pussy. Waiting for them to come up, not knowing what they were going to do to her, had made her quite wet, so she was well lubed up to be able to take him. She groaned as he pushed forward and entered her, then Hermione appeared on the bed in front of her and demanded her pussy be licked.

Hermione, like Pansy, was already wet. She hesitated a moment, which earned her a slap on her arse by Ron, then bent down and began to lick Hermione's pussy. She alternated between teasing Hermione's clit and sticking her tongue in Hermione's hole; both seemed to excite her. Being fucked by Ron was rather distracting, though, and she found herself moaning as she tried to complete the task at hand.

Ron's thrusts grew faster by the minute; it was clear he was going to come soon. Alongside that, Hermione pushed Pansy's face further up her pussy, so she was focusing her efforts solely on Hermione's clit. This seemed to spur on her orgasm, too.

Worried she would get denied, Pansy didn't ask if she would be able to come. Instead, she tried to do her best by both of them, facilitating their orgasms as Ron soon emptied himself inside her with a loud groan, and Hermione practically screamed as she came on Pansy's face.

They both stayed where they were for several long seconds, panting and getting their breaths back. Pansy stayed dutifully in between them, not even moving a muscle when Ron pulled out of her and Hermione curled into a ball.

"Little one," Ron said, referencing her. "You may come if you wish."

Pansy didn't need to be told twice; her hand shot to her pussy and she rubbed her clit furiously. She got off on the fact she had Hermione's juices all over her face, and Ron's semen running down her leg. She didn't care how she looked, she was lost in the moment as she orgasmed loudly, convulsing and then flopping onto the bed between the two of them.

"Thank you, Master," Pansy said through ragged breaths.

As she lay there, hot and sweaty, covered in their come, bizarrely, she didn't think she'd ever been happier. Being Ron and Hermione's housemaid had seemed, at first, to be something she just had to endure, but as time had gone on, she'd found they all shared the same kinks and desires. The thought of being shared with Harry, and perhaps many of their friends, was one she found exciting, and she found she couldn't wait.

It might not have been the life she'd dreamed about for herself, but it was a life she was growing to love, and at the end of the day, that was really all that mattered.