Exactly as they promised

"Ladies!" Hermione greeted, trying to put on a cheery tone.

Daphne zigzagged her wand through the air. "Diffindo!", she bubbled.

Immediately, ripping sounds were heard from the seams of Hermione's robes. They fell to the ground.

"P-please!" Hermione begged, bending over to pick up the scraps. "I had a meeting with Professor McGonagall! I had to wear these!"

Millicent performed the same motion with her wand as she almost sang the spell, "Diffindo!"

Hermione's shoes fell apart next. She tripped out of them and fell face-first into a pile of the scraps of her clothes.

She looked up, almost in tears. "I didn't have a choice! I didn't-"

"You're smart. You could have made a lie," Pansy interrupted, "And if you had **** but to wear socks and shoes to pretend you were following her dress code, then why were you wearing underwear?"

Hermione's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, trying to find an answer, but before she could, Pansy repeated the spell. "Diffindo!"

Immediately Hermione's underwear was cut off. She now laid at the bottom of the stairs, completely naked.

"Now, then..." Pansy began, the other two Slytherins laughing. "I believe last night the rule we made was that if we ever made you strip naked again, you'd have to play with yourself, so get to it!"

Hermione merely covered herself. She didn't want to have to masturbate here, surrounded by the scraps of her clothes.

"No? Fine then. Millie, you got that one spell ready?"

"Yeah, I can do it," Millicent responded. Millicent aimed her wand right at Hermione's groin. "Texcitatus!"

Hermione immediately felt a warmth coursing through her. She was more aroused than she had ever felt before. Liquid was pooling between her legs quickly, she could feel her clitoris becoming engorged on the floor, and her nipples were getting so hard she swore that they risked cutting into the floor itself.

She felt her hand drift down, but she tried to stop it.

"Try to stop yourself all you want," Millicent gloated. "This won't stop until you cum!"

The Slytherins all laughed at Hermione's predicament as she kept trying to fight it. She struggled to get away, but as she tried to climb the stairs on her hands and knees, she slipped, her pussy rubbing against the edge of the stairs. That almost made her orgasm right there!

She panted on the floor as her hand moved below to her vulva. She couldn't stop her hand, but she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to.

She moaned in absolute ecstasy as she began to rub her clitoris, her other hand fondling her breasts. Her hips moved to accentuate her masturbation, as if she was having fun with someone else. Even her toes curled in sheer pleasure.

The arousal didn't last long, however. After a minute of playing with herself, she came, her arse pointing right at the Slytherins. With one last moan, she collapsed to the ground, weak. She let the joy and shame wash over her.

She didn't get to lay there long, however. Millicent grabbed by the arms and pulled her off the scraps of what was once her clothes.

"Now look... You got your clothes all wet!" Pansy said, a wicked grin on her face. "Let me get them dry for you... Incendio!"

Immediately the pile of rags burst into flame before Hermione's eyes. "NO!" She cried, trying to make it to the fire, but she fell again, still too weak.

"Oops!" Pansy giggled. "I guess I overdid it!" The Slytherins howled with laughter. They had stripped Hermione naked, they had gotten her to cum right in front of them, and now they had made what was left of her outfit into nothing more but ashes!

As they turned down the stairs, satisfied with what they had accomplished, Pansy called back to Hermione. "Don't forget to come to dinner! That spell was only a taste of what you have in store for tomorrow!"

When Hermione was alone, she finally allowed herself to cry. At least the other clothes she should get back at the end of this Holiday. If Slytherins were destroying her clothes now, she'd have to obey their rules perfectly, or risk having the borrowed robes destroyed. She then realized that the only robes of her own she had left were the ones she had to refit.

She felt cold. She felt ashamed. And yet she couldn't help but love every minute of her own humiliation. But she had to wonder... The spell only allowed things to be done to her that her heart desired. How far would things go until the spell stopped something?