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Message-ID: <46509asstr$1076033404@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: MontBlanc <rlipsofacto@yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Hermione the Spy pt. 1 (repost, fm)
Lines: 284
Date: Thu,  5 Feb 2004 21:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

I posted this story previously, but decided to have
some Beta readers give some suggestions. Thank you to
Angel, Dragonfly and especially Calisto. 

All work is copyrighted to the author (C) 2004. Please
don't remove the author information or make any
changes to this story. You may post freely to
non-commercial"free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.


WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. It includes implied sexual activity between
minors.

If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE LEAVE NOW!!!

Hermione the Spy pt. 1 by MontBlanc


Hermione was not about to let her petrified state keep
her from being productive. To anyone who walked into
the infirmary at Hogwarts, it would appear that she
was lying there in a complete coma, unable to do
anything. The reflection of the basilisk had frozen
her body, but her mind was clear, and she was very
glad that she had figured out the secret of the
creature so that she was merely paralyzed, and not
dead. 

Being paralyzed was not a joy, but having her mind
free to wander away from her body was an interesting
gift, to be sure. She could hear every word spoken
around her. It took her little time after sustaining
her injury to discover that she could not only hear
what was being said near her body, but that she could
explore the school at will in this ethereal state.
 
The first day she attended all her classes. No one
knew she was there and she grew frustrated when she
wanted to ask questions, or give answers and wasn't
able to do so. She would just have to do some studying
on her own. She figured out that even though she
couldn't pick up any books in the library, she was
able to move through them, actually reading pages
while the books were still on the shelves. She spent a
lot of her time reading books like this, which was far
better than lying in the infirmary.

Occasionally, her connection to her body would draw
her away from the library. This was usually when the
nurse would do some kind of physical check. Twice a
day the nurse checked her temperature. Why hadn't
wizards figured out the ear thermometer like muggles?
With her body firmly locked in place, it was
impossible to check her temperature orally, so at 8
a.m. and 8 p.m. every day, the nurse would roll her
over, lift her skirt, roll down her panties and slide
a rectal thermometer inside her. No matter what
intense reading Hermione might be doing while inside
one of the many books in the library, this glass rod
going into her body always drew her back. 

Harry and Ron had come by often, of course. The first
time Harry had held her hand for a moment. She wished
he didn't look so sad about it. If she could only move
something physically, she could write him a note, but
she was mostly ghostlike in her movements, unable to
have any effect on the physical world. When Ron and
Harry were visiting with her, she tried to stay and
listen, but Harry would just prattle on about classes
or some other thing. He was sweet really, but she got
more from their conversations then just his talking to
what he thought was an unconscious body. He read to
her a couple of times, but her brain moved too quickly
for his oral discussion, so she would leave and try to
find out interesting things about Hogwarts.

Ron, however, was a little different about his visits.
Sometimes he came along with Harry, sometimes alone.
Once, he brought Colin Creevey's camera, no doubt
pried from his petrified hands, and took a picture of
Hermione. The flash had brought Hermione back to her
body in an instant. Ron had then done something that
made her want to slap him. He touched her. 
Of course, Ron and Hermione had touched before, a hug
here or there, a pat on the back now and again, but
this was different. His hand was on her thigh, and it
was moving her skirt up her legs. She spoke, in her
mind, though it did no good. 

"Ron Weasley, you little perv, you put my skirt back
and get out of here this instant. God, you sick little
bastard, I'll curse you and everyone of your children
as soon as I get the mandrake root and get out of this
petrification." Her skirt was fully up around her
waist now and he took another picture. She couldn't
believe it, but he also touched his pants, rubbing his
penis. Fortunately, before he did anything that she
would actually have to kill him for, the nurse came in
to the infirmary and Ron had just enough time to fix
her skirt before the nurse walked around to Hermione's
bed. 
Ron gave a quick "Alright then Hermione, see you
later. Get better soon." and left the room, explaining
quickly to the nurse that he needed the camera to take
some pictures for the school paper. 

Hermione was furious. So mad she couldn't even leave
her body for the rest of the evening. That little
pervert. Gotten all horny looking at her legs, at her
panties! She'd kill him, or maybe petrify his pervy
self in the middle of the commons and see what Draco
and his friends would do to him. 
But as her anger settled, it became replaced with
curiosity. What was he doing with those pictures? He
didn't know how to get a roll of film developed. She
wished she could see him. Then she realized, of course
she could. She could spy on anyone. It had never
occurred to her. In her little mind, she had only seen
the proper practical advantages. Maybe she had been
hanging around Harry and Ron too long. Now she was
thinking of devious things she could do. She left her
body and headed down the hall.

Ron was alone in a room he had found under one of the
sets of moving stairs. He always had to spend a few
minutes finding it, but it never seemed to be used by
anyone else. He had stolen a few books from the
library. One was on muggle spells and another was
about magic photography. He kept trying the
incantation to turn film into pictures, but it never
would work. Of course he didn't hear Hermione come
into the room. He couldn't have heard her even if he
hadn't been trying hard to perform the spell. Hermione
looked at the page and laughed. He was bungling it
completely. 
"You stupid git, it's not Creole Imagino, it's Creo
Imago!"

Hermione knew he couldn't hear her, but the next words
out of his mouth sounded like hers, and presto, there
were the pictures Ron had taken, as well as some Colin
had made. Ron tossed these aside, grabbing the ones he
had taken. 

"Well I guess you're happy now, you freak." Hermione
mumbled. Ron glanced briefly at the spell in the magic
pictures book, but stopped. Hermione could tell that
any spells in that book would take preparation. She
wondered what he would do next. He just kept staring
at her pictures.

Hermione wanted to try something. If she could read
books that weren't opened while she was in this state,
could she read someone's mind? It didn't make sense,
but neither did her ability to move around at will
while her body lay paralyzed in the infirmary. She
moved closer to Ron and put her head, or where she
thought her head would be, in his. 

Instantly, she moved back. She had seen what he was
thinking, and it stunned her at first. It was those
same pictures, the ones in front of him, except in
Ron's mind, she had been playing with herself. The
image was vivid, her hands in her panties, he was even
imagining details like sounds and smells.

Hermione was shocked. Had he ever seen her doing that?
Wait, he couldn't possibly have, her privacy spells
were too strong. It was just him imagining what she
would look like. She had to admit he had a pretty good
imagination. Then she saw what he was doing. She
thought of leaving but waited.

He had opened his robe, then his trousers, and now his
penis was out of his pants. She had never seen one up
close before. Clinically, of course, she knew
everything there was to know about them, but this was
different. She wasn't sure how long it was, but it
looked respectable to her. He didn't have much pubic
hair yet, she had more than he did, but she supposed
that was natural as girls do typically develop a
little earlier than boys. 

She felt as if she should be taking notes. It wasn't
arousing to her, but she was no longer as disgusted as
she had been. He was just doing what every young man
and most young women do. Of course the fact that he
was doing it while fantasizing about her was a little
disturbing. However, it also flattered her a little. 
There were taller girls at Hogwarts, prettier girls,
girls with bigger breasts. But he seemed to like her,
or at least he liked her body.

She continued to watch, and became more interested as
Ron continued pumping away. His penis seemed to be
swollen larger than it had been when he pulled it out.
She kept thinking of it as a penis, that was, after
all, the proper name, but in her mind penis was a
flaccid thing. Phallus was better, but still seemed
like a doctor's word. She eased closer to his head
again, wondering what Ron called it.

Ron's fantasy was in full swing now. Her mind spun as
she tried to sort out the images. She was still in the
infirmary, but she was masturbating to a fever pitch.
In Ron's imagination she had four fingers inside her,
plunging deep into her as her other hand grabbed Ron's
cock. So that was the word he liked. She guessed she
could call it a cock. But four fingers! Hermione had
put two in to her vagina ten days ago and that brought
her pleasure which bordered on pain. Four fingers
indeed.

Now Ron's fantasy Hermione got out of the bed,
starkers, and got on her knees in front of him. He was
dressed much as he was now, his cock a little bigger
in his imagination than it was as Hermione saw it, but
that's what imagination was for. There was no way in
reality that Hermione could do what Ron was thinking
anyway. She was in front of him and taking his cock
all the way into her mouth. She'd not thought of that
as being anything she would really want to do, but in
Ron's mind she would do it and do it all very well. 

Hermione was now kind of getting into the raunchiness
of Ron's fantasy. It didn't fit her own fantasies,
which usually involved something a little more subtle,
and maybe it was because she was occupying some of the
same space as he was, but it was definitely enticing.
She could hear the sounds of her mouth slurping his
cock, licking him, she seemed to even feel the
pressure building up as she worked his cock.

And she could also feel the wetness between her own
legs as she continued working the four fingers inside
of her while sucking him. She seemed to be in tune
with the words that Ron had her speaking. She wasn't
sure whether they were her thoughts or his now. 

She pulled his cock out of her mouth and looked up at
him. "Ron, I won't swallow it. I'm not ready for that,
but I will let you shoot it on my face, in my hair,
wherever you want. Are you going to cum on me, Ron?"
Ron didn't chose. He just looked at her, naked, on her
knees, his cock in her hand, next to her lips,
whispered a faint "Hermione" and blew his load all
over her. Her mouth got the first shot, most of it on
her lips, but a drop or two on her tongue. Another
shot hit her right cheek, the next blast went past it
and onto her hair, then she aimed his cock down a
little and several more shots ended up on her breasts,
which Hermione now noticed were also larger in Ron's
fantasy than her real breasts. There was cum
everywhere. Pausing to look at herself and comparing
it to the amount of real cum that had shot out of
Ron's cock as he masturbated, she had to smile. This
was his imagination after all. 

She had enjoyed the little episode, no harm really. So
he was a bit of a pervert. Given the opportunity, she
would be playing with herself right now too. She
really needed it now. But there was nothing much she
could do. Her body felt aroused, but she wasn't able
to touch herself. She left Ron's private room, leaving
him to clean himself up as she contemplated her plans
until she could be released from her petrified state.


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