Harry had seen many wondrous things in his life and considered himself to be a worldly man. Back in his home reality, he had seen a herd of hippogriffs attack and eat a dragon; the ferocity of the moment chilled even his cruel heart. The refracted colors of captured light of the morning sun made the Crystal Waterfall of Glasgow, a creation of the King himself, a wondrous thing to behold and made Harry marvel.
But not a single experience in his life came close to preparing him for what he witnessed in the master bedroom of number four Privet Drive. It was simultaneously humbling and inspiring for the young wizard. He watched with his eyes and mouth open wide in wonder and awe.
"Oh Merlin, Hermione, your tongue feels so very fantastic in my bottom!" cheered Luna. "This is so wonderful!" the blonde cried out. Harry couldn't agree more.
Harry had seen many a rim-job before, but the Hermione from this reality was nothing short of an artist. She was the Picasso of arse-licking, the Michelangelo of analingus, the Da Vinci of rimming. Her tongue was the brush and Luna's hole was the canvas and what was created was a masterpiece. He was so impressed that even though he had a steel-like erection, Harry did not push Hermione out of the way and use said erection on Luna's freshly tongued hole. He was more than content to watch Hermione, an absolute Master, at work.
At first, the tip of Hermione's tongue rolled around Luna's tight hole while the brunette pulled the witch's cheeks wide apart with her hands. Then her surprisingly long, strong, and nimble tongue had penetrated Luna's tight opening and was now wriggling about in the blonde witch's cavity.
Luna, being a self-described "arse-girl," had her first orgasm shortly after Hermione began to move her tongue inside her. After Luna recovered, Hermione decided that even though the blonde had cum rapidly, extra effort was required. While continuing to tongue her "no-no" hole, Hermione used her fingers to jab, poke, prod, rub, pinch, and caress Luna's sex. The odd Ravenclaw was no match for both Hermione's tongue and fingers. In a matter of seconds, Luna was crying out orgasm after orgasm.
When all was said and done, Hermione licked her lips and smiled at Harry.
"That was amazing," Harry said. He was moved.
"Let's take care of that, shall we?" the brunette said, nodding to Harry's impressive organ. She spat on the bulbous tip and wrapped her fingers around the base – or at least as best as she could do in gripping his sizable girth. Then, gently guiding Harry by his manhood, she made him stand and led him to Luna's posterior. Continuing her hold, she helped Harry push into Luna's rectum.
"That's just so pretty," Hermione said, watching intently how Harry's big rod pushed and stretched Luna's bum.
"I can assure you that it feels very, very pretty!" Luna stated.
"Harry, I'm going to swallow your cock once you pull out," Hermione said. "I want to taste Luna's arse on your meat."
"Oh-ho! That just sent a shiver up my spine!" cheered Luna. "Well, a different shiver than the one cause by Harry's organ stuffed in my bottom. Please, Hermione, continue talking dirty!"
"She's going to be too busy using her mouth for other things," Harry said pulling out of Luna. He turned and presented his organ to Hermione. The brunette looked up at him with a wicked glint in her eyes and a naughty smile on her lips before engulfing his large manhood effortlessly. She bobbed twice, shoving his crown deep down her throat. When she pulled away, a thick string of saliva connected her lips to his crown and great globs of spittle fell from her lips and his member. Grinning, Harry said, "Now you can talk dirty."
"Let me get Luna's hole wet for your fat, juicy cock," she said.
"Another delightful shiver!" stated Luna. When Hermione began licking and probing the blonde's bum, Luna repeated with a rapturous squeal, "Another shiver!"
The moment Hermione was out of the way, Harry plunged himself into Luna. With one rapid push, he buried his entire length into her bottom. The sound Luna made was a cross between a shout of joy and a squeak of surprise. Harry pulled back only to slam back into her. He repeated this motion, pulling back and slamming home, again and again. The master bedroom of number four was filled with the sounds of masculine grunts, feminine cries, and skin rhythmically slapping against skin.
While caressing Luna and Harry's thighs, Hermione told her two lovers about the shocking news she had learned while captive at Grimmauld Place. "Ron has a harem."
"When I – UGH – said I liked – OH – dirty talking – WOW – that wasn't what – SNORKACK! – I had in mind!" Luna said while Harry pummeled her bottom.
"It wasn't meant to arouse or excite you," said Hermione. "On the contrary, it should disgust you as it does me."
"What does it matter if that ginger has a harem? He shouldn't be of any concern to you," Harry asked, not pausing in the slightest in his piston-like motions.
"It concerns me because that dickless ponce has a harem of five witches while you only have the two of us!" argued Hermione.
"SHE'S – OH, GOD – RIGHT! THAT WILL – SNORKACK – NOT DO!" shouted Luna in a combination of passion and rage; passion of the orgasm that had just rocked her and rage over what Hermione had said.
"There Ron is, with his puny less than a small boy-dick with five witches, while you, with your massive, throbbing, beef-stick combined with your incredible technique, have only two. It's a travesty! I will not stand for it. The first chance we get, we will add witches so that your harem will dwarf Ron's!" Hermione said firmly.
"I do have standards you know. I won't just accept any witch off the street," informed Harry, continuing to pummel Luna.
"Of course we won't just accept any witch. We won't sacrifice quality for quantity," said Hermione, as if such a notion was evident.
"How – GOLLY, THAT FEELS FANTASTIC! – how about – WOW! – Fleur Delacour?" Luna asked between thrusts.
"I don't like her very much," admitted Hermione. "She's a snob."
"But she's – MY OH MY – very attractive," argued Luna. "I think Harry would –SNORKACK – rather like shagging her."
"Who's this Fleur bird?" asked Harry.
"Some gorgeous, stuck up, French–" began Hermione.
"Wait, stop right there," interrupted Harry. "No French. Period. End of discussion. I cannot stand the French."
"That's fine by me," Hermione said.
"What should we do about Dumbledore?" asked Harry, changing topics but not changing his piston-like motions into Luna's bottom. "Wait a tick, I need more lube," he pulled out and once again, turned and presented his manhood to Hermione. She swallowed his organ, coating it with her warm spit. Once properly lubricated, Harry lunged back into Luna's bottom.
"What do you think we should do to Dumbledore and his flunkies for vengeance?" he asked over Luna's happy cries.
"I would've thought that you of all people would've hatched an evil plan already?" Hermione returned.
"Who says I haven't? I was just looking for some insight from you."
At this point, Luna added to the topic by making soft gurgling sounds that would peak with each of Harry's thrusts. Apparently, the blonde was so content that she was foaming at the mouth.
"I'd like to do to him what he did to me, but I'm too angry to try and brainwash him," Hermione spoke. "The bastard walked in and meddled with my mind. What gives him the right to think he could do such a thing?" she fumed.
"I can kill him if you like," Harry said.
"Death would be too quick for him. I need him to suffer," Hermione said. Of course, if she had not been so upset over the topic, she might've noticed that Harry had already made up his mind as to what he was going to do with Dumbledore.
A soft, rattling snore came from Luna.
"Um, Harry, I think Luna's unconscious," Hermione pointed out. Another snore escaped the blonde, as if to confirm Hermione's assessment. "Yes, you shagged her unconscious."
"Almost finished," he grunted in response, pounding away. His veins bulged in his neck and a growl escaped his gritted teeth shortly after. The squelching sound that accompanied each thrust grew in intensity as Harry shot sting after string of hot cum into the slumbering blonde's bottom.
"Can I borrow your wand, Harry?" asked Hermione when he pulled out of Luna and flopped down next to the blonde.
"What are you going to do with it?" he asked, handing her his wand.
"I'm going to search that ginger-slut," she replied, indicating the bound and unconscious Ginny. "I wouldn't put it pass Dumbledore to have put a tracking charm on her or hidden some device without her knowledge."
Hermione knew that such a thing was unlikely. Even if a tracking device did exist, all she would need to do would be to cast a few spells and disable the tracking charms on the device. No, she had a very different plan in mind.
She waved Harry's wand over her left arm, conjuring a long, think, green rubber glove that went up past her elbows. Putting the wand in her off hand, the brunette conjured another glove covering her right arm.
"Just where do you think Dumbledore might have put this charm?" Harry asked, knowing that whatever Hermione was about to do had nothing to do with tracking charms.
"You'll see," the naked brunette said, sauntering over to Ginny. Once again, Hermione waved the wand in an intricate pattern. A big, red ball appeared in Ginny's mouth, gagging her. A thick black strap wrapped around her head, holding the ball firmly in place. The red-head woke up when she felt her jaw being forced open. She looked up with bleary eyes at her one true love. Her lovingly cruel Mistress stood over her with old fashion surgical gloves and nothing else. A tingle of anticipation erupted in Ginny's sex.
Hermione waved the wand, this time conjuring an odd device that attached itself to the black strap and went over Ginny's head and down her face, between her eyes and into her nose. Two rubber hooks dove into the submissive girl's nostrils and pulled them up forcibly until her nose resembled that of a pig.
"Your name is now Ginny-Pig," Hermione said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Do you like your new name, Ginny-Pig?"
Ginny's womanhood flooded as she nodded her head.
"Good," the brunette said. Another wave of Harry's wand and the hemp ropes that bound Ginny to the chair vanished with a pop. Hermione commanded of her slave, "Now get up and bend over that dresser!"
Like a shot, Ginny leapt up and threw herself on the dresser, facing away from the bed. She couldn't wait for what Hermione had in mind.
Hermione set Harry's wand down and without warning or preparation, jabbed four fingers into Ginny's sopping cunt. The red-head's muffled cried sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. With a satisfied smile, Hermione pushed deeper into her submissive toy's folds. When she forced her thumb in and formed a fist, Ginny's first orgasm struck. The red-head screamed into the oversized gag. While Ginny's muscles were still contracting under her climax, Hermione pushed her fist in further with a sharp punching motion. Warm, sticky fluid poured out Ginny's cunny as Hermione buried her hand past her wrist.
"First thing tomorrow, I think we should fetch some more witches," Hermione said conversationally to Harry as she violently forced her hand deeper and deeper into Ginny. "I will not allow that dickless fool Ron to have more witches than you. It's a crime against nature."
"I was going to ask you about that before. You mentioned I only have two witches earlier, but I've got three right now: you, Luna and the ginger you're fisting," Harry said, watching Hermione fist the red-head.
"This slut?" asked Hermione, scornfully. "This despicable whore of a pig isn't worthy of even looking at your glorious cock!"
Maybe it was her Mistress' fist punching into her sex, or perhaps her viciously cruel words, but Ginny experienced another earth-shattering climax. Her heart soared with happiness.
"To best that dickless shite's count, we need to find at least four more worthy witches." Bracing herself, Hermione pushed even harder into her toy.
"Look Harry, I'm putting on a puppet show for you," Hermione said. She raised the pitch of her voice, making it comical. "'Hey there boys and girls, I'm Ginny-Pig and I'm a worthless whore!'" she said, as if putting words in Ginny's mouth. Coincidentally, Ginny's head bobbed in synch with the words as waves of both pleasure and agony caused by her Mistress' violent arm motions assaulted her.
"You're nothing more than my useless whorish puppet, Ginny-Pig," Hermione said cruelly. The orgasms stemming from her Mistress' hand was nothing compared to the joyous rapture Ginny felt over the foul names she was called.
"Um, not that I don't like watching you at work, Hermione," Harry said evenly, "but even if Dumbledore did put some sort of tracking device in um… Ginny-Pig, I'm fairly certain that it won't be in her fallopian tubes."
"I'm just being thorough," she said, grunting. "Besides, don't exaggerate; I can barely get my forefinger through her cervix." She grunted; "Ah, there we go, it's in now!"
If she had not been gagged, Ginny would have joyously screamed; "Yes, Mistress, be as thorough as you like! Rip me apart, my one true love! I'm nothing more than your puppet, your Pig, and whatever else you desire me to be!"
Several minutes later, Hermione tugged and pulled her gloved hand free with very loud and pronounced squelching sounds. This was a fairly difficult task, for it seemed that Ginny was opposed to having Hermione's hand leave as the red head used all of her muscles to deny her exit. But Hermione prevailed and a part of Ginny felt empty and hollow (of course, a noticeable part of her was now gapping and cavernous, but, this goes without saying).
With a maniacal smile on her face, Hermione announced "One hole down, two to go! But first, I think I'll need to lube up my other arm."
The part of Ginny was empty and hollow was now rapidly and violently filled up once again (as were her bottom and her mouth shortly after that).
Today was a happy day... at least happier compared to the last few days. This was the day that Draco could stop taking those dreadful potions and therefore no longer had to suffer from those horrendous side-effects. Well most of the side-effects. The young wizard still had a little issue with lactation, but compared to the rest of his problems, this was minor. Some well placed absorbent pads would take care of that.
Draco bounded out of his room and skipped down the hall. He was no longer confined to his bedroom and was overjoyed. A broad smile stretched across his noble face as he trotted down the stairs, two steps at a time, with his special new pads on his bouncing chest. He couldn't wait to tell his mother and father the good news of his recovery.
The young wizard was so lost in his happy thoughts that he didn't notice the ruined foyer. Nor did Draco notice the massive, bloodied corpse that graced the destroyed room. That is until he tripped over it and crashed to the floor.
"What the hell!" he cried out in indignation.
"Draco, dear, what are you…?" Narcissa's question vanished when she saw the brute that had ruined him home and desecrated her father's remains lying dead in her foyer. For a brief moment, the blonde almost let a righteous cheer escape her lips. But even in her rapidly evaporating alcoholic stupor, she knew that if the Dark Lord heard of such jubilation over the death of his duplicate from another reality, Narcissa would surely be punished.
Then, one of the two masks attached to the Flying Death's ruined torso caught her attention. She had seen it often. It was her husband's mask. The once prized mask was crushed and bloodied. Now the cheer that had threatened to escape her lips leapt from her throat and echoed off the walls.
"FREEDOM!"
"Hello, Remus, Alastor," Molly slurred at the two wizards as they marched through the door into number twelve, Grimmauld place. The witch staggered while walking.
"Are you drunk?" Moody asked.
"You would be too if your son was rolling around with a bunch of harlots!" hollered Molly. She tried to take a pull from the bottle clutched in her hands, only to find that she had downed the last drop a few moments before.
"Why don't you do get some rest," Remus said helpfully.
"No, I need to relieve Ginny," slurred Molly. "She's been keeping an eye on that Scarlet Woman and now it's my turn."
"Actually, Molly, we came on Albus' orders to check on Hermione," Remus stated.
"Then I'll definitely need to go up there," she said defiantly. "I can't have you two ogling that girl. You'll try to sneak glances down her top to see her magnificent, gravity defying titties. Well, I won't have that. Not on my watch!"
As the plump witch staggered up the stairs, both Remus and Moody cursed their luck. Both had hoped to visit Hermione without Molly's interference. Each of them had a vivid dream the night before. Oddly, they each had very similar dreams. Each had walked in on Hermione while the buxom beauty was showering. In Moody's dream, the old wizard stood and watched as the young witch worked the lather on her soft, inviting skin. His blood raced as he recalled the erotic image of suds slowly trickling down dream-Hermione's nearly divine breasts. While Remus had a much more pleasant variation: he actually got the chance to be the one working the lather on Hermione's inviting skin. Needless to say, thanks to Remus' efforts, dream-Hermione had very, very clean breasts due to his worship-like attention.
As the drunken witch and two wizards plodded up the stairs, a passionate cry from the library seized their attention. It was a very energetic witch screaming; "Arthur, I'm cumming again! I'm cumming!"
Upon hearing her husband's name, Molly dashed to the library and threw the door open. There, standing directly in front of the now open door, was a skinny wisp of a blonde with ridiculously large breasts. She was completely naked and glistening with sweat. Behind this unknown witch stood Arthur, equally nude and sweating. Molly's eyes bulged in disgust and horror when she saw her husband's erect organ buried in the blonde's quivering sex.
"ARTHUR!" Molly screamed.
"Molly?" the red haired wizard shouted. In a panic, Arthur tried to pull away rapidly from the witch he was shagging and get as far away from his enraged wife as possible. This unfortunately created a jerking motion, which led to him ejaculating.
"ARTHUR!" screeched Molly as visible evidence to her husband's infidelity shot and dribbled out of the blonde's cunny and around his rod.
"Oh, this won't end well," mutter Moody, who was gazing at the naked witch and wizard over Molly's shoulder.
Remus bit his tongue. His initial reaction was to congratulate Arthur. The blonde that Arthur was with was quite fetching.
"HOW COULD YOU?" screamed Molly. She spun on her heel and ran out of the house. Before slamming the door behind her, the Weasley matriarch shouted, "IF I EVER SEE YOU AGAIN, ARTHUR WEASLEY, I'LL CUT YOUR WILLY OFF!"
Still frozen in shock, Arthur and the unknown but stacked blonde witch stood, dripping with sweat and various other fluids, connected at their sex, for Remus and Moody to see.
"Bad move, Tonks," commented Moody.
"Wait, that's Tonks?" asked Remus, pointing to the blonde.
"Yeah, I can see her Metamorphmagus magics with my magic eye."
"Hiya, blokes," Tonks said nervously.
"Wow, you bagged a Metamorphmagi," Remus said. His mind was flooded with the possibilities of shagging a Metamorphmagi. "You lucky bastard," he muttered.
Without warning, the front door banged open, shaking the home's foundation. A familiar sounding pair of heavy feet thundered up the steps toward the library. Molly furiously stomped in front of the still connected Tonks and Arthur and screamed at the top of her lungs "I'LL RUIN YOU, ARTHUR WEASLEY! I'LL DIVORCE YOU AND TAKE EVERY KNUT YOU MAKE FROM NOW UNTIL THE DAY YOU DIE, YOU ADULTEROUS SWINE!" With her threatening message delivered, Molly stomped down the stairs and out of the building, slamming the front door once more.
"We'll let you two clean up," Moody said closing the door. Remus attempted to get another glimpse of Tonks in her slender, big breast form before the door closed.
"C'mon, there's work to do," Moody nudged Remus toward the room where Granger was kept.
Begrudgingly, Remus headed up the stairs with Moody in tow. The werewolf didn't get much tail and he liked seeing a nice set of breasts as much as the next bloke. Of course, the set of breasts that Tonks had on wasn't near the quality of Hermione's, but he wouldn't have minded if he was allowed to look at the Metamorphmagi's titties a little longer.
"Get moving, Lupin, we don't have all day to ogle witches tits," scolded Moody. Needless to say, the retired Auror had an advantage in the ogling titties department: his magical eye could see through walls. As he trudged up the stairs, said eye was pointed directly at the room the two wizards had just left, fixed firmly on Tonks' naked melons.
"Oh bugger!" cursed Remus when he opened the door. "Ginny and Hermione are gone!"
"Damnation!" barked Moody. "Albus won't like this."
A few feet within the tree line of the Forbidden Forest, just outside Hogwarts' wards and protection, Lord Voldemort and two of his followers, Rabastan Lestrange and Severus Snape, waited and watched the castle.
"Severus, I plan on bringing some more of my brothers from different realities here so that when I deal with Potter, I can overthrow the world effortlessly," mused Voldemort. "With an army of Dark Lords, no one would dare stand in my way."
"Pardon my Lord, but that may not be wise," began Snape.
"Of course it's wise. Our Master came up with the plan and He is infallible!" snapped Lestrange.
"Although this is true and I am perfect, please continue with your thought, Severus," Voldemort said haughtily.
"Thank you, Sire, you are most generous," Snape said while bowing. After showing the proper respect, he spoke; "My Lord, it is beyond a doubt that you are incredibly powerful and therefore it is your rightful place to rule the world. I believe it is safe to assume that your counterparts from many different realities will share this same glorious distinction; they have earned the right to rule their worlds. I fear that if you brought more of your brethren over they might believe that they have the right to rule this world instead of you."
"Preposterous!" snarled Lestrange. "Our Master is the One True Dark Lord and ruler of the world!"
"I couldn't agree with you more, Rabastan. Anyone who doesn't know this to be true is a fool and an imbecile," Snape said with a show of reverence to Voldemort. "However, some of the Master's brothers might not be so enlightened. If they help our Master achieve his destiny and conquer the world, some might demand the Dark Lord divide up the world and divvy it out to his brothers. Some might even try to wrest control from our Master, perhaps even try to assassinate him, thinking incorrectly that they should be the one who should rule."
"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Lestrange shot back. "The idea that any of the Dark Lord's brothers would try and steal what is rightfully His is ludicrous!"
"No, no, Severus has a point," Voldemort said. He knew this to be true; if he were taken to another dimension, he would try and overthrow whoever was the ruler, even if that person was Voldemort's double. "Severus is right; bringing more of my brothers to this reality risks creating competition for myself. Thank you for your insight, Severus," Voldemort concluded.
"I live to serve, Master," Snape said with another bow.
Just then, a masked Death Eater rushed out of the depths of the Forest.
"Master, I portkeyed as close to the school's wards as I could and ran here. Something terrible has happened!" he shouted, holding his side in pain from his sprinting.
"What's the matter?" demanded Voldemort.
"Your counterpart, Sire, Potter's killed him!"
"Our plan to ruin Draco has only just begun," Pansy announced to her fellow Draco Haters, Tracy and Daphne (Astoria had been grounded by her parents for her stated desire to join a harem). "The knowledge that what's-his-name Weasley has a harem will hurt him, but only a little. We must do more to ensure Draco's suffering."
"What do you suggest, Madam Minister?" asked Daphne.
"We make Draco You Know Who's little bitch," Pansy said and cackled maniacally. "The Dark Lord will put Draco under the Cruciatus Curse day after day."
"Erm, I don't think the Dark Lord would do that," Tracy said.
"Yeah, even if we ask nicely and tell him what Draco did to us," added Daphne. "Draco's the son of one of You Know Who's inner circle. He won't torture Draco without a good reason."
"What if we asked the Dark Lord to do this in exchange for us giving him Potter?" she replied with a victorious smirk.
"Are you saying we should kidnap Potter, hand him over to You Know Who, and then, as our reward, we ask the Dark Lord to torture Draco on a daily basis?" summarized Tracy.
"Basically, yes." Pansy grinned over her brilliant plan for revenge.
"That's all well and good, but just how do you suggest we nab Potter?" asked Daphne. "You Know Who and his followers have been trying to do it for years unsuccessfully."
"Don't tell anyone I said this, but You Know Who tends to look over the little things," Pansy said in a whisper, fearful that someone might overhear her sacrilegious comment. "And when I say 'little things' I mean house-elves. The Dark Lord thinks of them as nothing more than lowly servants. He's right, but once in a while, a house-elf can be useful.
"I heard a rumor that there's this funny house-elf named Dobby who practically worships Potter," continued Pansy. "If we trick this Dobby into leading us to Potter, we can nab him."
"I heard about Dobby. Didn't he whomp Draco's dad when he threatened Potter back in our second year? Won't that mean Dobby will protect Potter from us?" offered Daphne
"Not if he doesn't realize it's a trap and we follow him without his knowledge," answered pansy. "We'll get my family's house-elf, Buttons, to go to Dobby. She can tell him that we're afraid of You Know Who and need Potter's help. Since Potter's so noble, Dobby will think that he'll want to help us. The house-elf will go directly to Potter. All we need to do is have Buttons place a tracker on Dobby and we can follow the stupid elf."
"Once Dobby leaves Potter, we can grab him!" cheered Tracy.
"Now just hold on," Daphne said. "For this to work, we'll need to perform magic. We'll need to imbue a tracking charm on an item and create a portkey to follow the charm. Even then, we'll need to subdue Potter. Since we're all under-aged, we can't do any of this without alerting the Ministry!"
"That would be a problem if my dad hadn't removed the Ministry's tracking charms on my wand," Pansy said, proudly showing off her untraceable wand. "He did it as a form of penance for giving me to Draco."
"Then there won't be a problem," Daphne said, eager to get her revenge against Draco.
Janus Peg's work The Untamed Beast in Our Homes was a ground breaking study on ghouls. Peg had observed and lived with more than a dozen ghouls in different homes across Europe for over a decade. He recorded their behavior and civil manners (both of which were relatively short chapters seeing that ghouls spend a majority of their time sleeping). But one thing that Peg had brought to the general public's attention was the odd sexual dimorphism and reproductive habits of ghouls. This unusual sexual dimorphism, the physical differences between the male and female of a species, was directly connected to the ghouls' reproductive organs. Until Peg's work was published, no one had bothered to take notice that a female ghoul had one set of genitalia while the male had two sets: two overly large penises and four goodly sized testicles. The reason for this strange physical development is that the female ghoul's vaginal cavity is very long and her eggs need a great amount of semen to fertilize it instead of a single sperm as in humans. The male ghoul would first use one of his penises to penetrate the female during procreation. When this penis ejaculated and became flaccid, the second is used. By the time the second penis ejaculated, the first was once again erect, and the male would continue. All in all, the male ghoul could ejaculate ten to fifteen times on average, producing up to a gallon of ejaculate. The shortest session that Peg witnessed was fifty-nine minutes and four seconds. The longest was just shy of two hours (one hundred and sixteen minutes, forty-five seconds).
Ron had heard of neither Janus Peg nor his notable work. However, if he had, the red-head could easily confirm Mister Peg's findings. The ghoul who lived in the Burrow's attic had demonstrated Mister Peg's finding regarding reproductive habits on his arse. And this ghoul was apparently particularly amorous, which only heightened his performance. The ghoul pounded his large organs in Ron's bottom for ninety minutes and ejaculating thirteen times
Once the beast was finally finished, he promptly fell asleep. While the ghoul snored, Ron tried to make his escape. Unfortunately for the red-head, the assault had left his legs numb (he half wished this sensation was in his bottom so that he wouldn't feel the various bruises developing or the ample amount of warm ghoul cum pouring out of his stretched and abused orifice).
Ron dragged himself by clawing at the floor. Slowly, he inched toward the attic exit.
Apparently, the cosmos had thought that Ron had not paid enough for his transgressions. For just as Ron reached the trapdoor, Marigold's head popped up.
"Oi, girls, I found him," she called out. "He's in th' attic!"
"Ooh, the attic! I betcha there's loads more room to play wit' 'im up there!" one of the witches called out.
If two wands had not been jabbed into his urethra, Ron would've wet himself in fear as the five hideously homely witches scampered into the attic, ready and eager to once again practice their horrendous fetishes upon him.
"What happened?" Rabastan Lestrange asked as he looked over the Flying Death's corpse, lying in the Malfoy foyer.
"It appears that Potter killed my brother, as well as Lucius and Thorfinn," Voldemort said with his blood boiling with rage. Potter had apparently smote the Flying Death and two highly trained Death Eaters. Perhaps his conclusion about not bringing more of his duplicates from other realities would have to be rethought. The fact that Potter with his near god like powers killed the Flying Death, a formidable opponent albeit not a magical one, Voldemort would need some assistance after all.
"Severus, please go retrieve Soaring Spade and my other Death Eaters. We have to formulate a new plan for dealing with Potter," he commanded.
"As you wish, Sire," Snape replied.
Voldemort decided he needed to summon more of his duplicates from different realities to deal with Potter and the threat he posed. That meant he had to make another trip to Top-Floor Apartment Forum Magazine to go through their post archive in order to find the virgins necessary for the summoning ritual.
The Dark Lord's pulse quickened and what was left of his loins stirred at the notion of having another liaison with Lola, the exotic secretary from Top-Floor Apartment Forum Magazine. Since he was going to take some posts from the pornographic magazine, he would need to write one of his own to leave behind. More importantly, he'd be able to enact the fantasy he would write about with Lola once again. Such a wonderful distraction would help Voldemort's sour mood over the Flying Death's demise. However, before he could retrieve quill and parchment, a sobbing Draco Malfoy rushed into the foyer and threw himself at the Dark Lord's feet.
"Please Master, let me help you," Draco pleaded. "Please, Sire, I beg of you, allow me to help you seek vengeance against the coward who killed my father."
Looking down at the groveling new head of the Malfoy family (and ignoring the apparent padding around Draco's chest), a thought came to Voldemort: adding Draco to the mix might just be enough to excite Lola!
"Do you swear to do anything, Draco?" he asked.
"Yes Sire, I would gladly give up my life so that Potter would die for his crime!" the blond boy cried out.
"Fine then, fetch me an inked quill and some parchment," the Dark Lord commanded. "Once I write a post, you and I will go on an errand that will ensure victory over Potter."
"Well, that was entertaining," commented Hermione after pulling her soiled hand out of Ginny's mouth. The later was nothing more than a heap on the floor – forty-one consecutive orgasms have that effect on a person.
"It certainly was," agreed Harry. At one point while Hermione had her right hand shoved deep in Ginny's arse, the brunette announced "Hmm, it feels like I might have knocked something loose," before roughly punching her left fist into the red-head's cunny. It looked to Harry as if Hermione was trying to grab and shake her own hands inside Ginny's body through her rectum and vagina. Once Hermione had tired of double fisting Ginny, she removed the younger witch's gag and jammed her filthy hand down her throat, much to Ginny's pleasure.
"Harry, could you grab your wand and remove these gloves," requested Hermione. "I don't want to touch either one while I have any of Ginny-Pig's filth on the gloves."
Harry strolled over to the dresser, retrieved his wand, and with a wave, banished Hermione's soiled gloves. "We're going to have to get you and Luna a set of replacement wands."
"Later, right now I'm so randy I want to ride you until you're dry!" the brunette said, stalking toward Harry.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I must punish you first," he said, somberly.
"Punish me? For what?" she asked.
"You betrayed me and went to Dumbledore for help," he answered. "For that, I'm forced to teach you a lesson."
"I think I've seen the errors of my way, Harry," she protested. "Dumbledore brainwashed me for pity's sake."
"I can't have my witches going behind my back. I have to make an example of you," he said. "Don't worry, it won't hurt."
"You promise?" she asked, nervously.
He waved his wand, conjuring a high back wooden chair. "Sit down," he ordered.
She bit her lip and sat. Harry waved his wand and invisible ropes bound Hermione to the chair in such a way that she couldn't move any part of her body, even a fraction of an inch. Then Harry weaved his wand in an intricate pattern and a dozen leads and wires appeared all over Hermione's body. Several were clustered on her breast over her heart, a number were attached to the sides of her head, and a few were placed around the lower part of her belly. The wires all led to a tiny rubber jackalope whose soft rubber horns were resting directly on Hermione's sensitive clitoris.
"Oh, my," Hermione purred when the jackalope began to vibrate, sending a pleasurable electric shock up her spine. "If this is how you punish your witches, I think I'll be bad more often."
Because of her arousal caused by her total domination of Ginny, Hermione could feel her first orgasm already approaching.
"When I cum, I'm going to call out your name, Harry."
"That would be nice," he said with a lopsided grin. "But you won't be cumming anytime soon."
"This little mythical creature between my legs says otherwise," she purred. Hermione felt the pressure of an oncoming climax growing rapidly in her belly. She was a few seconds away from exploding. Then, just an instant before she reached the pinnacle of ecstasy, the jackalope stopped vibrating.
"Harry, I think your punishment device isn't working," she said as her crescendo of pleasure began to plummet.
"No, it's working perfectly." Harry gathered his clothes and slowly dressed.
Before the pleasure caused by the vibrating toy dispersed completely, it began to move once more. Hermione's heart raced as her body began climbing toward ecstasy. Harry paid Hermione's moans no heed as he dressed.
Just as before, the moment before her orgasm crashed down on her, the jackalope stopped moving. She was so damn close. Hermione attempted to wriggle her nub against the still figure so that she could climax, but Harry's invisible bindings denied her.
Harry slipped on his shoes and made his way out of the room. "I have some errands to run. I'll be back in a few hours. Enjoy your punishment."
After she heard Harry march down the stairs, the jackalope began to vibrate again, bringing her ever so close to ecstasy, only to stop when she was a hair's breath away. Then, realization dawned upon Hermione; the leads connected to various parts of her body were reading and detecting her arousal. The jackalope would vibrate and stimulate her. But the moment before she would orgasm, the leads would turn off the jackalope. Harry had devised a heinous punishment; this damnable chair with the jackalope would bring Hermione to the brink of pleasure, then stop until her arousal dipped, only to bring her to the brink once again. The punishment that Harry had devised was to bring Hermione to the edge of physical pleasure time and time again, but all the while denying her release.
"Harry Potter, you fiend!"
After Molly had caught them in the act, a depressed Tonks and Arthur headed back to the pink haired Auror's flat. He sat with his head and shoulders hanging low.
"She's right, you know," Arthur said morosely. "Molly will ruin me."
Molly had insisted the couple sign a prenuptial contract when the got engaged so many years before. And in this contract, she had demanded that if Arthur ever had an affair, she would get ninety-five percent of his income. Being young and in love, Arthur had thought the idea of cheating on his bride-to-be as an alien concept to him. But then, on their wedding night, Molly revealed to Arthur that she believed sex for pleasure was a contemptible thing. Suddenly Arthur found the idea of straying outside his marriage wasn't such an alien notion. He had never acted upon this however out of fear what Molly would do. But now that he had this tryst with Tonks, his life was a disaster.
"I'm sorry, baby," cooed Tonks, wrapping herself around the wizard who was old enough to be her father. Arthur wasn't the best shag she had, but he did have something that her previous lovers didn't: love. When she was with other blokes, all they really cared about was cumming. But Arthur was different; his touch had a desperate edge to it. Not just to climax, but as if he needed her on a spiritual level and she found herself craving more of this feeling.
"I know of a way that Molly won't break you – retire," offered Tonks. "She can't take money away from you if you're not making any. And she can't take your entire pension, even if you two had a prenuptial."
"It's sad to say that even if Molly wouldn't take everything we own, I don't have enough money saved for retirement. And my pension is a pittance; a few sickles a month."
"Don't worry about that, I'll take care of you," she said.
"That's sweet, but I know how much Aurors make and you can't afford to support me and yourself.," he said regrettably.
"Do you know who my grandfather is?"
"I never met Cygnus Black," he replied.
"No, not my mum's dad," she said with a playful giggle. "My dad's dad: Rodger Tonks. He's a multi-billionaire. You're sitting next to the proud owner of a hundred and fifty million pound trust fund."
"That must be very heavy," he said in awe.
"I only became an Auror because I was bored and wanted adventure," she continued, ignoring Arthur's pun. "But I'm starting to think that shacking up with a bloke who's the same age as my dad might just be enough adventure to satisfy me."
"Shack up with?" he asked. "I don't think it'll be adventurous."
"Sure it will be," Tonks said. She kissed him and added; "First, we'll travel the world, boink in exotic places and sip fruity drinks with little paper umbrellas. And by the time we get bored with that, I'm sure I'll be pregnant, which is an adventure all in itself. Let's say we do a nice dress rehearsal of the boinking right now." Tonks punctuated this comment by slipping down in front of Arthur and began to fellate the rapidly erect wizard.
"Well, look who's back," Lola said as Voldemort and Draco entered the offices of Top-Floor Apartment Forum Magazine. The gravely texture of her voice sang to Voldemort. Lola adjusted her garishly red wig while eyeing Draco and said "And you've brought a friend."
"Here, I think you'll enjoy this," Voldemort said, handing Lola the post he had written.
Draco was curious as to what the Dark Lord had written. Whatever it was clearly excited the mannish muggle. Her big eyes sparkled as she read it.
Looking up from the post, Lola said "Well then, let's go see if what you've written is physically possible."
The broad shouldered woman stood and led Voldemort and the novice Death Eater to the hall cupboard.
"Remember, Draco, do exactly as I say," Voldemort ordered as he and the blond boy walked into the cupboard. "This act will guarantee Potter's death."
A few minutes later, Voldemort shouted over the sound of his hips slapping into Lola's firm arse; "SUCK LOLA'S COCK, DRACO! SUCK IT LIKE A LOLLY! SWALLOW HER CREAM LIKE A KITTEN!"
In the Headmaster's office, Moody finished telling Dumbledore the revelation that Hermione and Ginny had disappeared.
"This is most distressful," Dumbledore bemoaned. Looking at Moody with sad eyes, he repeated; "Most distressful."
Not only had his experimental technique apparently failed, but Miss Granger had kidnapped Miss Weasley. Right now, more likely than not, poor innocent Ginevra was being tortured by the evil version of Harry.
"Remus is going over the room with a fine comb, looking for any leads," Moody said.
A dark depression descended upon Dumbledore. The evil Harry now had three innocent witches in his clutches, and the venerable Headmaster was impotent to help them. He imagined that he could hear those poor innocent and chaste souls screaming in pain.
"I'm heading back to Grimmauld Place," Moody said, standing. "I don't think we'll find anything to help locate Potter or the girls, but we have to try."
As Moody hobbled to the door, Dumbledore reached into the bottom left drawer of his desk. He pulled out a bottle of Odgin's Finest Single Malt, a present Armando Dippet had given him when he became Headmaster years before. Dumbledore had never seen the need to open the bottle for he wasn't one to imbue. The expensive bottle of liquor sat in the drawer collecting dust for decades. But now, with the failure of his treatment and the dreadful fate of Misses Granger, Lovegood, and Weasley weighing upon his soul, Dumbledore decided it was as good as a time as any to drown his sorrows in drink.
Ignoring the painful burning sensation, Dumbledore gulped down four whooping mouthfuls in rapid succession, took a deep breath, and then swallowed another four.
It took a while to find a way around the wards protecting the school. Harry wanted his little visit to surprise Dumbledore; therefore he didn't want any detection wards alerting the old wizard to his presence. It took the better part of three hours to bypass or deactivate the wards, but the vengeance Harry was about to deliver would be well worth the effort. The meddling fool would pay for what he did to Harry's witch.
He watched and waited in the shadows opposite the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Patience was one of his strong points; which was beneficial because short of blowing the stone gargoyle to tiny little bits, Harry wouldn't be able to open the door – the wards and deterrents on the statute were too powerful, even for him.
Thankfully, Harry didn't have to wait long. Shortly after he arrived, the gargoyle stepped out of the way and an old wizard limped out. He fit part of the description Hermione had given Harry of Dumbledore: old. Of course this wizard didn't have a long white beard, but it was close enough for Harry. Perhaps patience wasn't one of his strong points after all.
"It's time to pay for what you did to my Hermione, fool!" snapped Harry. He launched several powerful cutting hexes at the wizard.
The old man who Harry thought was Dumbledore was surprisingly agile, dodging the brunt of Harry's hexes. The one Harry aimed at his neck – hoping to cut off his head and be done with it – missed its target, slicing a chunk off of his ear. Another hex graced by his shoulder.
Not missing a beat, the old wizard countered with bludgeoning hexes. One hit Harry squarely in the belly, sending him to the ground.
As he rolled out of the way of another hex, Harry commented that Dumbledore was a worthy opponent; he was a challenge for him. Harry flicked his wrist, animating a suit of armor. The suit charged at Dumbledore with its arms flailing like pinwheels. The old wizard turned and transfigured the suit into a stuffed mouse.
While he was distracted, Harry changed the floor beneath Dumbledore's feet into loose sand. His peg leg sunk a few inches, throwing off his balance.
Despite this disadvantage, the man Harry thought was Dumbledore twirled his wand as he fell to his side, banishing a large stone from the nearby wall directly at his attacker. The half ton rock rocketed through the air. Harry barely ducked out of the way in time; he felt the stone brushing against his hair as it passed.
Struggling to get out of the sand, the old man launched a bevy of hexes and curses at Harry, forcing him to block, duck and dodge. The scarred wizard got in a blow, throwing Harry like a doll into the wall.
His head and back slammed against the stone wall. Stars erupted behind Harry's eyes and the wind was knocked out of him. Forcing himself through this disorientated state, Harry conjured a large metal wall in front of him to block any hexes his opponent cast at him while he caught his bearings. The metal barricade clanged loudly as curses and hexes bounced off of it. When Harry's vision returned, the barricade was bent and twisted from his opponent's attack.
Deciding to end it, Harry took off the kid gloves. Jumping out from behind the wall, Harry fired off two difficult curses; both of which he created and both equally lethal. One was a modified Transfiguration based curse where the target's heart was turned to stone, while the other was a drought hex of Harry's own design. The old wizard blocked and evaded most of the attack, but one of Harry's curses partially got through, striking the wizard in the side of his chest. Seeing that the wizard Harry thought was Dumbledore didn't drop dead that instant, Harry knew that he had hit him with his dreaded drought hex. The spell was slow acting but still very effective.
Now that revenge was his, Harry made his escape. In order to distract his opponent, Harry summoned the old wizard's magical eye. With a wet sucking sound, the electric blue eye popped out of its socket and flew to Harry. Snatching it out of the air, Harry dashed down the corridor.
"Potter, you bastard!" the old wizard shouted contemptuously. As he hobbled after his retreating foe, he screamed "Give me back my eye!"
Dobby was happily toiling away, painting the master bedroom in Gryffindor-red, when a female house-elf appeared next to him with a soft pop.
"Are's yous Dobby?" she asked with a worried squeak.
"Yes, I's be Dobby," he said. He looked at the female house-elf and became lost in her big, bulbous, blue eyes. "Who's you be?"
"I's be Buttons," she answered. "My Mistress and her's friends be needing the help of the great Harry Potter!"
"Really! Dobby knows the great Harry Potter!" Dobby said, hoping to impress the house-elf.
"Yes, I's knows, Buttons has been looking for Dobby for hours and hours, hopping from one house-elf home to the next," she said. "My Mistress and her's friends are in danger and only the great Harry Potter can help thems! They's being forced by their parents to become Death Eaters for He Who Must Not Be Named!"
"Oh, that be terrible!" lamented Dobby. A part of him was hoping that if he shared in her worry and pain, perhaps they could share other things. A house-elf has needs after all.
"My Mistress tells Buttons to go find the great Harry Potter's house-elf, Dobby, so's that he can be finding Harry Potter and Harry Potter can be saving them from becoming Death Eaters!"
"Harry Potter loves saving people!" cheered Dobby. "Harry Potter sir will gladly help Button's Mistress and her's friends!"
"That be wonderful!" Buttons threw her arms around Dobby, discreetly placing a felt pad on his back. Buttons didn't know why her Mistress wanted her to put a pad obviously imbued with a tracking charm on Dobby, but it wasn't her place to ask such things. "My Mistress' name be Pansy, of the Parkinson family!"
"I'll's go get the great Harry Potter now!" Dobby heralded and popped away.
Meanwhile, back in the master bedroom of number four, Hermione was not faring well. It had been three hours since Harry bound her to the damn chair. Three long, grueling hours where she was brought to the very edge of ecstasy, only to be denied the littlest bit of joy time and time again. Hermione stopped counting aborted orgasms after she reached forty-two – that was an hour and a half ago.
She had tried to wake Luna and ask her to help her reach orgasm. But the pretty blonde was still unconscious, thanks to the combination of Hermione's tongue and Harry's expert buggering. In an act of desperation, Hermione had even attempted to rouse Ginny-Pig – she was so desperate to cum she had sunk to considering allowing Ginny-Pig to touch her. But, much like Luna, the red-haired whore was out like a light.
Every fiber of her body screamed out, begging for release. Her loins felt as if they were on fire. Sweat dropped from her skin in fat, heavy drops. Hermione's breath came in short, rapid bursts.
She was so close that the jackalope would only vibrate and buzz for two or three seconds before shutting off. It would remain still for another two seconds before starting its torturous buzzing again. Her need to climax was so great that her arousal would spike almost instantaneously at even the sound of the buzzing. But that damned jackalope mocked her need and ceased in its excruciating vibrating before ecstasy could claim her.
Moody grumbled angrily as he limped back toward Dumbledore's office. Not only had he failed in subduing Potter, but the evil little shite stole his magical eye.
Before he could say the password to enter the office, Moody coughed. His throat and mouth felt incredibly dry and he desperately needed a drink. Pulling his flask from his robes, Moody took a long pull, draining it completely. But it didn't quell the overpowering thirst he felt.
"Damn fiend hit me with a drought hex," he said, his voice cracking more than normal. Why would Potter, obviously a master at the Dark Arts, resort to using a child's prank in a duel? Moody waved his wand and muttered the counter-curse. But his thirst still persisted.
"Lemon drops," he attempted to croak at the gargoyle. Since the counter-curse didn't work and his thirst was worsening, he knew he needed Dumbledore's help. Unfortunately, his overly dry throat prevented the words from forming completely and all he was able to say was "Lem' dr'."
Without being able to speak the password, the gargoyle wouldn't move. And for a blasting hex powerful enough to destroy the gargoyle, even Moody would have to shout the incantation in a loud, clear voice, which he couldn't do thanks to Potter's damn hex. Growling in frustration, Moody hobbled as quickly as he could to the hospital ward and to Poppy.
On his way, Moody's thirst became too much. Going against his normal paranoid behavior, Moody rushed into a nearby loo and turned on the faucet for a drink. After using a charm to see if the water that was flowing out of the tap was poisoned, Moody filled his flask. He drained it in one gulp. The retired Auror hoped that this would sustain his unnatural thirst until he could get to Poppy for help. But alas, this was not the case. Drinking the water only seemed to make it worse. It felt as if his throat was splitting open it was so dry. Frantically, he refilled the flask and drank it down. Again he held his flask under the tap and drank from it. Even though he was moving as fast as he could, he couldn't get enough water. Discarding the flask, Moody bent over and placed his mouth directly under the faucet, madly gulping down mouthfuls of water.
"Buttons gived Dobby the message and be putting the felt pad on's him," Buttons told her Mistress once she returned to Parkinson Place.
"Good! Now be off with you! I have concentrate and I can't stand it when you look at me with those bulbous eyes of yours!" Pansy snapped at her house-elf.
"Quick, make the portkey and tie it in with the tracking charm so we can follow Potter's house-elf!" Daphne said excitedly.
Harry walked, dragging his feet slowly, to the edge of the school wards. Once out of the wards and protection, he would find a place to rest for a few minutes. The two spells he had finished the duel with had been overly draining.
Just as he reached the gates, Dobby, the strange elf, popped into existence directly before him.
"Harry Potter sir! Some witches needs yours help, sir!" the house-elf squeaked excitedly. "Pansy's Pakinson's and her's friends do be needing you's help! They's being forced to becomes Death Eaters by they's parents!"
"And why should that matter to me?" he asked.
"They's be needing the help of the great Harry Potter, sir, and you's help people," Dobby said, still believing this was his Harry not an evil double from another reality.
"Are they attractive?" he asked. He didn't really have any intention of saving them, but if they were pretty, perhaps he'd boink them. Playing the valiant savor was an easy and effective way to get tail.
"All's humans look silly to Dobby, sir."
"Fine, I'll go help them in a bit," Harry said. "How's my hideout coming along?"
"Oh, it do be going along very wells, sir. Harry Potter's hideout will be finished soon and it wills be the grandest hideout of alls times!" Dobby said, gushing over his accomplishments in Harry Potter's name. Recharged over his talk with Harry, the excitable house-elf squeaked "Dobby wills be going back to work on Harry Potter's hideout right now!" and disappeared with a pop.
"Hold it right there, Potter!" a witch's voice said threateningly.
Turning, Harry saw three pretty witches, all pointing wands at him, walking out of the shadows.
"We're taking you to the Dark Lord," the black haired one said menacingly.
As the three young witches circled around Harry, he weighed his options. Even though he was knackered from his duel with the wizard he thought was Dumbledore, he could easily take the witches out. However, he could let them take him captive. Playing the helpless prisoner was just as effective in getting tail as playing the valiant savior.
"None of you are French, are you?" he asked. He did have standards to maintain.
"What? Of course we're not," one replied.
"All right, you've got me," he said, lifting his hands over his head in a show of defeat.
"Daphne, take hold of Potter," the black haired witch commanded her sandy blonde companion.
As Daphne grabbed Harry's arm, he looked her in the eyes and with a dashing lopsided grin said, "Hi there."
Blushing under Harry's gaze, Daphne returned softly, "Hullo."
"Here, turn this into a portkey," the strawberry blonde of the trio said, holding a long twig in her hands.
"Thanks Tracy," the black haired witch said. After Tracy put the twig on the ground, Pansy tapped it with her wand, incanting "Portus."
Tracy took hold of Daphne's free hand and knelt next to the twig as did the black-haired witch while it glowed and shook, turning into a portkey. A few seconds later the two kneeling witches touched the portkey and all four were whisked away.
Harry found himself standing in a ruined foyer of a palatial house.
"Pansy, you portkeyed us directly into someone's house! That's rude!" Daphne chastised the black haired witch.
"I didn't want to risk anyone seeing us with Potter," Pansy shot back. "If an actual Death Eater saw us with him, he could easily take Potter away from us and claim that he was the one to capture him, not us."
"Good point," Daphne said.
"Where is everyone?" Tracy asked. "I would've thought the Dark Lord's hideout would be crawling with witches and wizards."
"Go see if you can find anyone," ordered Pansy. "Daphne and I will take Potter to the library and hold him there."
"Right," Tracy said and scurried off.
The two witches led Harry into the nearby library and closed the door.
"I'm not naïve, I know Voldemort's gonna kill me," Harry announced with a convincing show of dread.
"That's what he generally does to his enemies," Pansy said mockingly.
"Pansy, don't be mean," Daphne scolded.
"I don't want to die a… virgin," Harry lied.
"Wait, are you asking one of us to shag you before we hand you over to You Know Who?" asked Pansy. "You must be joking."
"Isn't it against custom to deny a dying wizard's last wish," offered Daphne, eyeing Harry hungrily.
"You're barmy, you know that!" Pansy snapped at her fellow Slytherin.
"Why? He's cute," defended Daphne.
"Well, yes, he is cute," admitted Pansy. "But he also happens to You Know Who's enemy, and a lowly half blood to boot."
"I found them!" Tracy said, rushing into the library.
"That was quick. Where were they?" asked Daphne.
"Everybody, including Draco and a bunch of naked people I don't recognize, are down in the cellar," she answered.
"Who are the naked people?" asked Harry, joining the conversation.
"I dunno, probably virgin sacrifices," speculated Tracy. "It's clear You Know Who is performing a ritual and there have been rumors that he needed virgins."
"Speaking of virgins, these two are arguing on whether or not to let me die a virgin," explained Harry, indicating Pansy and Daphne.
"I volunteer," offered Tracy.
"What? How could you even think that?" barked Pansy.
"Because he's a cutie," replied Tracy.
"That's what I said," said Daphne.
"Besides, we can use it to taunt Draco even more," added Tracy. "Just think of the look on that git's face when I tell him I bagged Potter before turning over to You-Know-Who."
Before Pansy could protest further, Harry interceded. "Now that it's settled, which one of you lovely ladies will take my virginity?"
"Me," announced Daphne.
"Why you?" demanded Tracy.
"I was here first."
"I still don't think it's wise," protested Pansy while Harry began to strip. "Even if it will irk Draco," she paused, distracted my Harry's lean muscular belly. "And that he's got a tummy I want to eat sushi off of, it's still bad! He's the Dark Lord's enemy and a half-blood."
"We've already decided, I'm the one shagging him," Daphne said.
Tracy uttered "bitch" under her breath.
"You don't have to worry about any repercussions," Daphne told Pansy.
"Fine, just don't expect me to watch you belittle yourself with the half-blo—Oh, my word!" Pansy became even more distracted, for it was at this point that Harry lowered his trousers. Lowly half-blood or not, Pansy had to admit Potter would not be knocked over if a strong gust of wind hit him in the back – his built-in tripod would save him from falling on his face.
"You lucky bitch!" Tracy said jealously to Daphne, eyeing the rising pink basilisk hanging between Potter's legs.
An ashen faced Draco kept guard over the naked virgin muggles in the cellar. After what he went through – especially after what he had to swallow – he'd be damned if they escaped.
Despite having soothed his nerves with Lola, Voldemort was not happy. The first duplicate he summoned was a circus clown, complete with bright orange hair, white, red, and purple grease makeup, bulbous red rubber nose and comically long shoes. The Dark Lord wondered how a clown was going to help him deal with a cosmically powered Potter; perhaps this clown had a lapel flower that shot out a stream of acid or used explosive pies. Once he explained the situation and what he wanted to do to the newcomer, Voldemort glared at his double. "So you're a clown."
"Yeah, but I'm a bad clown" Tommy the Clown offered.
"Really? A bad clown like John Wayne Gacy?" asked Voldemort, grasping onto the hope that this choice wasn't a waste of a virgin sacrifice. Perhaps the clown could be of use after all.
"No, no, I'm not bad as in 'I'm a bad clown who likes to kill little boys for a sick, sexual thrill' but more of an 'I'm a bad clown because I can only make snakes for balloon animals and my rubber nose has lost its squeaker' bad."
"That is unfortunate for you," Voldemort said. "If you are of no use to me in dealing with Potter, perhaps I should use you as a virgin sacrifice so that I may find a duplicate that can aid me."
"Whoa now, who ever said I was a virgin?" Tommy the Clown asked with a chuckle. He turned and looked at Narcissa who was standing amongst the crowd of Death Eaters and, with his purple-painted eyebrows wriggling suggestively, added "I may be a lousy clown, but I'm one hell of a lover."
He then gave Narcissa a rather rude gesture where he framed the edges of his mouth with his fore and middle fingers from his right hand and wriggled his tongue.
"While the kiddies are playing 'pin the tail on the donkey' I'm usually railing the birthday boy's mum in the kitchen," Tommy added proudly. "Hell, I've gotten more arse than a bar-stool."
"Someone get this clown out of my sight," snarled Voldemort, girlishly. Tommy wasn't worth the effort of killing.
"I'll do it, sire," offered Narcissa energetically. The blonde rushed up to the clown and eagerly led him out of the cellar while discreetly snaking her hand down the front of his trousers.
"Draco, bring me another virgin," ordered Voldemort.
Snape cursed the situation he found himself in. Even if he wasn't surrounded by very single Death Eater, he was powerless to save the muggles. Because Voldemort himself had gotten these virgins and was now keeping a watchful eye on them, he couldn't do anything to save their lives.
Draco presented Voldemort with a pudgy, pimply face man. The muggle's cry of fear was stopped when his throat was sliced open with a wave of Voldemort's wand.
Voldemort spun and twirled his wand in an intricate motion, causing the muggle's blood to spray out in a precise pattern, painting a large pentagram on the floor. Once the muggle bled out and the pentagram was complete, Voldemort walked to the table he had set the tome containing the ritual and Summoning Sapphire on. He stepped into the pentagram and placed the Sapphire at a random point.
"Hear me, oh masters of time, space, and anything else that might be listening! Open up the gates between worlds so that I can call forth my brother from that realm unto this world! Come forth from your world, my equal, and join me here in my world so that we may rule together!"
Pillars of smoke shot into the air announcing that the ritual had been performed properly. When the smoke cleared, everyone gathered in the cellar, especially the virgins standing off to the side, stared in wide-eye lust at the figure that stood next to Voldemort. The figure was a lean, bald woman, dressed in a set of sheer, shimmering robes. She had an exotic, reptilian look to her.
"What am I doing here?" she asked calmly.
"I am Lord Voldemort," he announced. "I have brought you here to aid me in dealing with a formidable foe."
"I am Lady Voldemort," she said. "If I help you, what do I receive in return?"
"Once my foe is defeated and this world is mine, I shall return with you to your world and we shall conquer it together," he replied.
"If I wasn't a duplicate of you, your lie might've won me over," she said with a playful chuckle. "I was in the process of summoning duplicates from alternate realities myself, just as you were. Therefore I know that sending anyone back is not an option. But I will help you seeing that it is pointless to fret over not being able to return to my home reality."
She sauntered away from Voldemort, swaying her hips seductively. "When we take over this world, I'll take Australia."
"Damn," Voldemort cursed internally. Snape was right; his duplicates would challenge his absolute rule. This complicated issues. Vowing to deal with his female counterpart at a later time, Voldemort turned to Draco. "Bring another virgin!"
While she lay panting in a pool of her own sweat, Daphne came to realize that Harry could not have been telling the truth when he claimed he was a virgin. If he had been a virgin, he wouldn't have been able to perform cunnilingus on her so expertly. She had climaxed three times before he stuffed that monstrous cock in her wet center. Then there was his stamina that contradicted his claim of virginity. She had learned through discussion with witches who bedded virgins that the bloke never lasted very long; the excitement of the moment had them ejaculating within seconds. Harry, who obviously wasn't a virgin, slammed away at her for well over twenty minutes before moving on to Tracy, leaving Daphne a very satisfied and exhausted witch. More proof to his mistruth was his technique, Harry knew exactly how much pressure to put in his thrusts, what angles to use, and how fast or slow to go. Daphne had screamed out in pleasure as orgasm after orgasm hit her. Harry further proved he wasn't a virgin when he repeated this same process on Tracy who was now lying next to Daphne in her own pool of sweat and drool. Presently, Harry was shagging the hell out of Pansy. He was standing up, holding her by the waist, and railing her. Pansy, who was obviously overcome with passion, was flaying about bonelessly as Harry rammed into her.
With a loud grunt, Harry came.
"Lucky bitch," mumbled Tracy, jealous that Pansy was the one to receive Harry's load.
Once he was done, Harry carelessly let go of Pansy and she dropped to the floor with a crash. He stepped over her shivering body and slipped on his pants. "You three stay here. I'm going out for a stroll."
"I say we keep him," offered Tracy after Harry left the library.
"I second that," said Daphne.
"Agreed," echoed Pansy. "When we hand him over to the Dark Lord, we'll ask him if we can keep Potter for ourselves."
"You're out of you fucking mind, Parkinson!" snapped Tracy. "We are not handing the perfect lover over to You Know Who!"
"Yeah, he'll kill Harry, and that would be a crime against nature!" Daphne said.
"No, no, you see, instead of asking the Dark Lord to punish Draco for our reward, we can ask for Potter. We can keep him like a pet as payment for capturing him," explained Pansy, believing that such an outcome was a possibility.
"We are not going to let You Know Who even near Harry!" Daphne said loudly. "We're going to escape with him and we're going to shag him every single moment we can!"
"We can still shag him! I'm certain the Dark Lord will let us keep Potter for our own uses!"
"I have a feeling that you're not going to listen to reason," Daphne said threateningly as she and Tracy crawled over to Pansy.
While the three witches' disagreement turned physical, Harry snuck into the cellar, clinging to the shadows like a ghost. There, just as one of the witches he just shagged described, was Voldemort, surrounded by his cronies, performing a ritual. Harry arrived just in time to see another of Voldemort's duplicates arrive.
"Who the hell are you?" Voldemort demanded of the man in an expensive muggle suit.
"Hi, I'm Tom Riddle, motivational speaker. How are you on this fantastic day?" the newcomer said in a happy, booming voice. He smiled, showing off his brilliantly white, perfectly straight, and overly large teeth.
"Why me?" Voldemort asked the heavens. With his head hanging low, Voldemort replaced the tome and Summoning Sapphire on the nearby table. "What did I do to deserve this?"
"Why so glum, chum?" Tom the motivational speaker asked in a hyper perky fashion. "Everyday can be perfect but only if YOUmake it perfect!" Tom punctuated this statement by clicking his fingers and theatrically pointing at Voldemort with both hands.
"I've tried to make the perfect day! But out of the four duplicates I've summoned, only two can perform magic. And even then one of them is a magical accountant; he can crunch numbers and count beans with a wave of his wand! How the hell will that help me?" snapped Voldemort.
While Voldemort and his followers were distracted, Harry stealthily slinked to the table Voldemort kept the tome and Sapphire. Clearly, these two items were important in some way and therefore were of interest to Harry. Deftly, Harry snatched the book and jewel and crept away.
"Hey, when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade!" Tom said with far too much cheer for the situation. "All you need to do is seize the bull of opportunity by the horns and guide that bull to crash into your destiny!"
"Stand to the side so I can summon another duplicate!" Voldemort commanded. "Perhaps this next one will be useful—. Where's the Summoning Stone and book?"
When Harry reentered the room, he found the three witches wrestling on the floor. Daphne had Pansy in a headlock while Tracy was clawing at the black-haired witch's tits.
"Okay, girls, playtime's over," he said. "We're leaving."
"No we're not. We're going to hand you over to the Dark Lord!" Pansy said defiantly.
To show her disagreement, Daphne squeezed her arms around Pansy's neck even tighter.
"I said playtime is over," Harry repeated, pulling Daphne's arms off of the now blue-faced Pansy. He turned Daphne around and held the Summoning Sapphire to her rectum. "Here, hold onto this," he said before forcing the jewel into her cavity.
Daphne squeaked in surprise.
Handing Tracy the tome, he told her "Hold onto this while I make a portkey for us."
"Wait a tic! Why is she holding a book when I have a great big stone up my bum?" asked Daphne.
"Because when we get back to my temporary hideout, I'm going to bugger you. The stone will help stretch you out."
"Oh, I see," she said with anticipation.
"You lucky bitch," Tracy said to Daphne, wishing she had been the one to carry the sapphire instead of the book. That way she would've been the one to have Harry stuff his trouser basilisk up her bottom, not Daphne.
"Portus," Harry said, tapping his wand on a chair.
Pansy, who still wanted to hand Harry over, tried to sneak out. She made it one step before Harry hooked his arm around her waist and hoisted her up, draping her over his shoulder. "I think Hermione will be cross if I let one get away. She has a quota to fill."
The portkey dropped Harry and his three new witches directly on the bed in the master bedroom. Their sudden arrival woke Luna – that or the fact that Daphne landed right on top of her.
"Sorry, sorry," apologized Daphne as she crawled off of Luna.
"Hmmm? Oh, look Hermione, Harry's added to our harem!" cheered Luna. "Oh my, Hermione, you look dreadful."
"N-ne-need t-t-to c-cu-cum," she cried out. The jackalope was in a seemingly perpetual cycle where it would buzz for a half second and stop for even less time. Hermione was so lost in her own suffering that she did not even take notice of the three witches Harry brought. "P-please, Ha-Harry, I-I've l-learned m-my les-lesson!"
"My goodness," uttered Daphne as her eyes locked onto the muggle-born's bare, sweat covered breasts. "Her tits are absolutely fantastic."
Tracy nodded her head in wholehearted agreement. Even Pansy, who considered Granger nothing more than a dirty mudblood, had to admit that Granger's titties were as close to perfection as a human could get.
"My poor baby," cooed Harry, leaning over the brunette bound to the chair. "Let me take care of you."
He reached down and brushed his fingertip across Hermione's engorged clit. This light touch was all that was needed to finally send to the heights of pleasure. The power of dozens and dozens of orgasms hit Hermione with that simple touch. The sheer magnitude of her climax was too much for her body to handle. Muttering a soft "oh" Hermione lapsed into unconsciousness.
"Can I test out one of the new harem girls, Harry?" asked Luna unfazed by the new additions or of an unconscious Hermione bound to a chair.
"Of course."
"Brilliant! You," she said pointing to Daphne. "Lick my pussy!"
"No, I have plans for that one," Harry said. He pushed Daphne over the bed and jabbed his finger up her bum, fishing for the Sapphire.
"Fine then, you" Luna said, indicating Tracy. "Start munching!" and spread her legs wide.
"Um, I've never ate out a girl before," Tracy said nervously.
"I'm sure Luna will give you some pointers," offered Harry after pulling the jewel out of Daphne. He grabbed the tube of "Harry's Mint Foaming Gel" and put the tip in Daphne's bum.
"Oh, that tickles!" she said in surprise.
Trying to seize the opportunity, Pansy made for the door. She was naively planning on telling Voldemort where Potter was hiding and still asking the Dark Lord to keep Potter like a sex toy.
"Where do you think you're going?" Harry asked the retreating Slytherin.
"Oh, you lot are busy," she replied weakly. "I was just going to go to the kitchen for a spot of tea."
"No, I need some of your spit," he said. He spat a large amount of saliva in his palm, and then held it in front of Pansy's face, clearly wanting her to add to it. When she spat a tiny amount into his palm, he scolded "Oh, come on, you can do better than that."
Pansy spat again, this time added a respectable amount of saliva. Harry rubbed the warm spit on his erect rod and jabbed the tip of his organ into Daphne's bum.
"OH MY!" Daphne cried out in pleasure and pain as Harry stretched her out. Slowly, he pushed another two inches into her bottom. "OH MY!"
The commotion stirred Ginny from her slumber. She looked around briefly, taking in the new girls in the room. Ginny then spied the tied up Hermione. Intuitively knowing that she was forbidden from looking upon the glory that was her Mistress' Master's cock, Ginny slinked off the dresser keeping her eyes averted; the acknowledgment of being not worthy only added to the burning of her loins. Ginny took her place next to the one witch in the world who knew how to truly love her. Looking lovingly at her Mistress and the glistening sheen that covered her beautiful form, Ginny came to the conclusion that her Mistress would not want to wake up covered in a sticky sweat. So the red-head took it upon herself to clean her Mistress like the good slave she was. She hesitated in removing the ball gag, as she realized that her Mistress would likely punish her. With her fanny pulsing at the thought of being punished by her one true love, Ginny unbuckled the ball gag (yet kept the nose hooks in place). Ginny bent over and began licking her Mistress' toes and feet. The delicious taste of her salty sweat and the lowly act itself sent shivers of delight up Ginny's spine. Slowly, Ginny worked her way up Hermione's calf, licked and lapping up her sweat. Again, knowing that she was unworthy of touching more than the extremities of her Mistress' body, Ginny proceeded to lick and suck Hermione arms and lower legs clean.
"For not having done this before, you're not too bad," Luna commented to Tracy, as the Slytherin was doing her best in the hopes of getting Harry's notice of being willing to do whatever it took to be next. "Don't be afraid to stick a finger up my bottom; I'm an arse-girl."
"Alright then, I'll be back in a mo'," Pansy said, eager to return to Malfoy Manor and claim her prize.
"No, don't leave," Harry said, pulling Pansy back to his side. He forced her down on her knees with a less than gentle nudge so that now her face was less than a foot away from Daphne's bottom. "You see that?" he asked, looking at his shaft.
"Yes," Pansy replied and licked her lips.
'Well, I'm planning on cuming in… excuse me, what's your name again?"
"IT'S DAPHNE!" she cried out in passion.
"Thank you." Harry turned his attention back to Pansy. "As I was saying, I'm going to cum in Daphne's arse and that'll be messy. And I need someone to clean her up."
He paused and pushed another two inches into Daphne. "OH MY!"
"I was hoping that you'd suck my still hot cum out of Daphne's bum because that would make me randy," Harry said conversationally to Pansy. "And if you get me hot enough, I'll get hard real quick. And I'll use it on somebody. And since you would've sucked cum out of another witch's arse, I might be inclined to show my appreciation by shoving my cock in your arse."
A debate raged in Pansy's mind: should she do the proper thing of telling the Dark Lord of Potter's whereabouts and ask for the endowed wizard to be her plaything for a reward, or should she stay here, watch Potter bugger Daphne, suck his warm, salty spunk out of her fellow Slytherin's bum and then get buggered herself? This internal struggle Pansy faced was very short lived. Pansy came to the quick conclusion that the idea of slurping Potter's cum out of someone's rectum and getting buggered herself was far more pleasing in the short run than informing the Dark Lord. Besides, she could always sneak off in the morning to tell her Lord and Master where Potter was hiding.
"That's a good idea," Pansy said. With wanton desire burning in her veins, the Slytherin Princess settled for the show and her turn.