"That's a lot of cum," commented Harry as he examined the corpse lying on the floor in the parlor of the Dursley home. Behind the black-hair wizard stood his six harem witches, who had reverted back to their natural forms after their polyjuiced adventure.
"She apparently had a thing for semen," explained Luna. "I believe the Japanese call it Birkenstock."
"Bukkake, actually," corrected Hermione. Everyone gathered in the parlor turned and gave the buxom bookworm a questioning stare. The brunette huffed dismissively. "I guess I just prove that the brainy ones are naughty."
"It's a good thing you didn't cum inside of her," Harry said. "Polyjuice or not, you could've impregnated her as I doubt any of you performed the short term sterility charm that I cast on myself every day. Of course, the fact that she's dead would've prevented any pregnancy – but that's beside the point.
"So, explain to me again how this happened?" asked Harry as he continued to examine the cum-soaked corpse lying on the floor in the parlor.
"We caught Pansy trying to send a post to Voldemort and wanted to punish her. That's why we needed some of your hair to use in polyjuice," began Hermione. "We were going to gang-bang Pansy until any thought of trying to turn you in was pounded from her mind. But before we could punish Pansy, she came bursting through the door," she concluded, pointing to the dead form of Lady Voldemort.
"And you shagged her to death?" he asked.
"It was an accident, Master," confessed Tracey. Her face was still stained with tears caused by the notion of shagging a corpse. "I wanted to know what it was like to throat-shag like you do with the Hermiones and I got lost in the moment."
"She could've been useful," Harry said with disappointment.
"Wouldn't it be logical to assume she has a horcrux like this world's Voldemort? Perhaps we can resurrect her?" suggested Luna.
"I don't know if this hypothetical horcrux would work. The horcrux is supposed to act as an anchor, keeping the person's soul on this plane. However, since this Voldemort's horcrux or horcruxes are in an alternate dimension that would mean her soul would be anchored to that plane not this one," speculated Harry. "I'd even wager a bet that the fragment of her soul that resided in this body snapped back to her home dimension where her horcrux anchors are."
"I could do some research on the matter," offered Hermione.
"No, you're going to be busy for a while," he said. Scratching his chin, Harry said "Now, what to do with the body?" He snapped his fingers; "I'll send it to Voldemort as a message, just like I did with his other cronies and that big wrestler bloke."
Harry walked to Lady Voldemort's discarded robes. "I'm guessing she has a portkey hidden somewhere. She undoubtedly would've wanted to take me back to wherever it was she came from."
Pointing his wand at the silk garment, he incanted; "Accio Portkey!"and a fuzzy cotton slipper flew out. As it soared to the wizard, he flicked his wand and sent the portkey toward Lady Voldemort's corpse. The moment it landed on her, the body vanished.
Harry turned to his harem witches and announced; "All right then, we can't stay here. Once they find her body, they'll some here looking for us."
"What about the Dursleys?" asked Hermione Jean. "What will happen to them when the Death Eaters come looking for us?"
"Hopefully some Death Eater will eviscerate them," said Harry. "I don't really care what happens to them. My only concern is my harem witches."
"What should we do?" asked Tracey.
"Are we going back to the flat in Diagon Alley?" asked Luna.
"That'll have to be one huge apartment," said Charlus, looking at Harry and her fellow harem witches.
"We may have to, but let me see if my hideout is ready," Harry said. He then called out; "Dobby!"
With a loud crack, the little house-elf appeared, genuflecting at the wizard's feet. "You's call for Dobby, Harry Potter sir?"
"How close are you to completing my hideout? Can we move in yet?" he asked.
"Oh yes, Harry Potter sir. Dobby is almost nearly done. Dobby just has to finish the Great Hall where Harry Potter and his girly friends wills be taking theirs meals. But everything else is completed, Harry Potter sir. Your grandiose suit with oodles of sex-swings is all done."
"Very good, you may return to your duties," Harry told the house-elf.
"Thank you, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby cried a happy tear before vanishing.
Harry turned to his witches and ordered; "Grab your things. We're leaving in five minutes."
Hermione offered, "We can use Ginny-Pig as a pack mule again and stack everything on her back!"
She was in love and she loved it. Her marriage to Lucius was nothing. There was no passion, no feeling. But this, this was love.
Narcissa cuddled up to her lover. She loved his warmth, his scent, and the way his grease paint was smeared over both of the faces… and her breasts… and her labia… and her anus (she especially adored how Tommy's clown paint was transferred to her rectum – such a dirty clown).
Nuzzling into his chest further, Narcissa purred; "Let's make babies."
The burning cigarette fell from Tommy's lips. "Wh-wh-what?"
"Babies, silly,"" she said as she rolled her fingertip over his nipple. "I want to have your children."
"Muh-muh-my ch-children?" If his face was not covered by thick grease paint, perhaps Narcissa would've seen his expression of absolute terror.
"Merlin knows we've practiced making babies so much the last few hours," she cooed. Images of bearing the fruit of Tommy the Clown's loins played out in her head. "Well, except for the times you buggered me. And those fucking fantastic times you licked my arsehole. Gods, I came so fucking hard!"
Letting panic seize him, Tommy pushed Narcissa off and jumped out of the bed.
"What's wrong with you?" demanded Narcissa.
"No one said nuttin' about no kids!" he exclaimed, tugging on his ridiculously colorful baggy trousers.
"What?"
"I freakin' hate kids!" he shouted donning his bulbous rubber nose. As if the blonde did not understand, Tommy spelt out his feelings; "H-A-T-E!"
"But you're a clown! How can you hate children?"
"I've told you a thousand times before: I do it for the arse!" he cried out. "While the kiddies are playing pin the tail on the donkey, I'm playing pin the mummy in the tail!"
Tommy grabbed his shirt in one hand and his tiny bowler hat in the other. Tipping his hat to Narcissa, he said; "It's been a whole lot of fun, sweetheart, but things are getting wa-a-a-ay too serious. Ta'."
With that, Tommy the Clown turned tail and bolted out of the master suite. He didn't stop running until he was out of the house and a full block away.
Narcissa sat on the bed in total shock for five minutes. The pain and grief tore at her, ripping her poor heart into tiny little pieces. She had known love with Tommy the Clown, but she learned in the worst possible way that love was a fickle, cruel thing.
"I will never love again," she finally said in a dead whisper. Tears flowed from her eyes and rained from her cheeks and chin. "No one will ever love me."
Letting her angst wash over and consume her, Narcissa took one of the pillows and threw it across the room. She screamed so loud that it tore at her throat; "WORSE, NO ONE WILL EVER LICK MY ARSEHOLE AGAIN!"
In the next room, Draco paused in his lighting of candles in hopes of setting a romantic mood for Lady Voldemort's return, startled by his mother's strange shout. It was full of pain and grief. No doubt that Clown showed his true colors and had broken her heart. Draco placed his wand back in his pocket and was about to walk to his mother's room and comfort her when his balls seized up painfully.
In preparation of showering his snakelike lover with his hot semen, Draco had taken a double dose of the semen enhancing potion. He had done so hoping the extra potion would turn him into a firehose so he could douse Lady Voldemort from head to toe in his sticky man-juice to fulfill her dirty desire. But his plan had a painful side-effect: the potion had caused his testicle to work in a hyper-overdrive and produced a dangerous amount of semen. The pain was worth it though. The thought of pleasing the lovely Dark Lady made Draco's heart flutter.
Due to his painful state, Draco could not go comfort his mother. No only would he be distracted by his need to expel his ample seed, but if Lady Voldemort returned, he'd have to leave his mother even if they were in the middle of a conversation.
Thinking of his older lover, Draco wished she hurry up and kill Potter so she'd return to him. He couldn't wait much longer.
As if to answer his silent prayer, Draco heard the whoosh of portkey travel behind him.
When Lady Voldemort had created the portkey, she had intended on slicing open Potter's throat and traveling back to Draco's bed with The Boy Who Lived's still warm body and make hot, sticky love with the young blond wizard.
Draco turned, throwing off his robes. He had planned on showing Lady Voldemort his engorged testicles and telling her that he had done this to fulfill her desires. The fluttering in his heart ceased when he saw her. A tear rolled down his check as a dollop of cold semen rolled down hers.
An agonizing scream escaped Draco's mouth. Like his mother, the blond Slytherin had known love and that love had been viciously torn away. Another scream followed shortly there after. The first scream was from his soul lamenting the loss of his lover. The second cry was due to his balls. For it was at that unfortunate moment Draco's testicles passed their critical sperm load and ruptured.
"Sweet… mother… of… Merlin," muttered Hermione in near awe.
"That's one way of putting it," Harry said looking upon the hideout Dobby had built.
"Does the house-elf realize that a hideout's supposed to be… inconspicuous?" asked Charlus, staring at the building before her.
"That's Dobby; he gets very excited over the notion of working for Harry," Hermione Jean said, remembering how Dobby acted in her home dimension (or at least remembering the best her brain damaged mind could).
"I like it," announced Luna. "It has character."
"It has several characters," clarified Tracey.
"It's like the building has multiple personality disorder," added Charlus.
The hideout was a massive building made up of a hodgepodge of materials and styles. The west wing was a ten story tall log cabin, the east portion was a twenty story steel and glass office building, while the center of the building was a cross between a warehouse and castle made up of pink, green, purple, blue and yellow stones. There was a black brick keep, towering a hundred feet over the rest of the building. But the most prominent feature was the twenty foot tall replica of Harry's head and face perched atop said keep.
"Oh, gods, the head rotates," said Daphne as the replica began to slowly turn clockwise.
"How much you want to bet that the thing acts like a lighthouse and lights up at night," said Charlus, imagining a bright green light emanating from the Head's eyes.
"It's… it's the most conspicuous thing ever!" lamented Hermione. "It's got your head on the top of the building! It bloody advertises that this is your hideout. Passerby's will know instantaneously that Harry Potter is here!"
"I suppose it doesn't matter how conspicuous it is once I put up the Fidelius Charm. It'll hide it from everyone," Harry said. Just then, the head's eyes glowed brightly, confirming Charlus' speculation that it was in fact a lighthouse. "Well, I better cast the Fidelius right away, shouldn't I?"
Ron the Magnificent was distracted. No, it wasn't the memory of seeing those two Rubenesque women fornicating in his kitchen who were both proclaiming the joys of 'fisting' as he left his palace that bothered him. It was the whistling. As Ron the Magnificent, his beautiful harem girls, and two jesters walked across the open, grassy field, Ron the Magnificent heard a distinct whistle. It was a constant sound that always seemed to follow Ron the Magnificent.
Ron the Magnificent stopped so he could pinpoint the location of the whistle but Ron the Magnificent could no longer hear it. Brushing it off, Ron the Magnificent returned to Ron the Magnificent's journey to spread Ron the Magnificent's love and wisdom to the great people of this nation.
The moment Ron the Magnificent took his first step, the whistling started again. Ron the Magnificent stopped and so did the whistling. When Ron the Magnificent began to walk again, he could hear the whistling.
"Do you hear that?" asked Ron the Magnificent.
"'ear what?" Carnation asked grumpily. She didn't like to walk; it was too much like exercise. She just wanted to stay in the attic and play with the gingers. But the tall ginger with the wands in his tiny pecker said they were going on a journey to spread something or another. And since Minister Parkinson demanded that Carnation, her sisters, and Millicent had to obey the ginger's orders, she had to follow him.
"You don't hear that whistling?" repeated Ron the Magnificent.
"Oh, that's your arse," Marigold informed. "The ghoul buggered you so much ya got an permanent open cavity an' tha' wind's blowing through it."
"Our dear brother's been raped so much he's now got a gaping hole in his butt!" both Fred and George sang in unison. The horror of seeing their mother and Umbridge together (and in those positions) had snapped their minds. So much so that when they awoke after their failed suicide attempt, their destroyed psyche eagerly picked up on Ron's notions that they were his jesters. They now danced around Ron in funny, floppy hats, hoping to entertain him. This existence, as lowly as it was, was far better then the reality the twins had stumbled upon.
Of course Ron did not hear Marigold's description or his brother's song, at least not in the words they used. Instead, Ron the Magnificent heard Marigold pronounce: "That whistle you hear is every young maiden in the land calling you to them." And the twins sang "The girls all plead 'take us, oh Ron the Magnificent. Give us that thing between your knees and make us yours!"
Ron the Magnificent smiled. It was good to be Ron the Magnificent.
Tonks held up the strange little plastic thing she had bought at the local Muggle chemist. The little readout on the plastic wand showed a plus symbol. Her heart raced.
Earlier that day, Tonks woke up nauseous and threw up in the loo of their cabaña. She had used a wand on herself and discovered why. Not trusting herself, at least not with something as important as this, she snuck off to the chemist and bought a Muggle home pregnancy test. After peeing on the stick, the test confirmed her prior result.
'We've only been together for a few days?' she asked herself. 'How the hell can I be preggers?'
She then recalled that Arthur had seven children and came to the conclusion that her older lover was highly (possibly even magically) fertile.
Placing her hands on her belly, she smiled. It was a bit of a surprise, but a nice one.
"Oh, Artie," she called out. "I have some news!"
"What is it?" her cradle robbing lover asked, joining her in the loo.
In response, Tonks handed Arthur the plastic device.
"Oh, a new Muggle toy," Arthur said exuberantly. "What does it do?"
"Well, it tells if you're pregnant or not," she said, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.
"Ingenious!" he said. "What will those crazy Muggles think of… next…"
The wizard looked at his lover and his eyes grew wide in astonishment.
"That's right… Daddy," she said.
"Really?" he asked as tears of happiness welled up in his eyes.
"We're going to have a baby!" she said as she too began to cry.
"This is WONDERFUL!" cheered Arhtur. He snatched up Tonks in his arms and spun her around.
"We should celebrate!" Tonks said.
"Champagne?" suggested Arthur.
"I can't drink silly, I've got a baby! How about a little role-playing?"
A wicked glint sparkled in Arthur's eyes. "I know; we'll play 'The Dark Lord and the Persistent Auror!'"
"Oooh, I love that one!"
In a secluded corner in Diagon Alley, Remus appraised the building before him. It had been Ignatius' wise idea to build a temple for the Divine Mammary where they could preach Her Word.
The building was fine, but it needed something to draw worshipers. So Remus waved his wand and conjured a glowing sign that hovered over the entrance. It read "The Divine Mammary! Enter all ye who wish to gaze upon the Glorious Tittie!" Next, Remus conjured a statue in honor of the Devine Goddess.
A few minutes later, Ignatius joined Remus. The initiate stared in wonder at Remus' newly created statue. "Wow! That is a Glorious Boob."
"Yes it is," the former werewolf said happily. "How did your mission go, brother? Were you able to find new converts?"
"That I did brother, a few nuns for the service of the Divine Mammary. Here they come now."
Remus turned and looked to where Ignatius was pointing. Six attractive young witches sauntered down the street.
"Good day, sisters," Remus greeted the witches. "Welcome to our temple."
"Hello Brother Remus, I'm Lucinda. I've come to join with in worship with you for our Beautiful Goddess."
In turn, the other five witches introduced themselves. Each stated that they were rapturous since hearing of the Word.
"Hmm, I think I have an idea," said Remus as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Since we are all being born again in Her Divine Milk, perhaps were should take new names as a sign of our devotion."
"That's a wonderful idea, brother," Lucinda said.
"From this moment on, I shall be called Teatamus," Remus said. He turned to Ignatius and christened him "Nubbin, in honor of the Divine Mammary's Wondrous Nub."
"What about us, Brother Teatamus?" asked one of the witches.
Teatamus thought for a moment before announcing "Your name is Candy." He turned to the other witches and named them each; "Bubbles, Bambi, Barbie, Jasmine, and Cinnamon."
"Oh thank you Brother Teatamus!" cried Bubbles.
"I'm so happy I could dance!" cheered Candy.
"Me too," echoed Jasmine.
"Hey, I know a charm that creates music!" said Nubbin.
"Yes, dance! Dance to show our love for the Divine Mammary!" commanded the man now called Teatamus. He ushered the initiates into the temple as the shepherd leads his flock. Shortly thereafter, the thumping music created by Nubbin's magic sounded through the building.
As it just so happened, Kingsley Shacklebolt was walking by the street when he heard the loud music. Curious as to the source of the music, the Auror investigated. When Kingsley saw the beautiful statue of Hermione Granger's left breast his mouth flooded with drool and blood rushed into his organ. He felt strangely compelled to enter the building – perhaps he'd be lucky and see more beautiful replicas of Miss Granger's magnificent boob. Inside he found Remus Lupin standing next to an unknown wizard and six witches dancing on platforms throughout the interior.
"All this dancing is making me warm," commented Bambi.
"Me too," said Jasmine.
"Then take off your clothes, sisters," commanded Teatamus. "Do not be ashamed of your bodies. They are gifts from the Divine Mammary."
With that, all six witches began to take off their clothes while dancing.
Kingsley gulped.
"Ah, Brother Kingsley! Welcome to the Temple of the Divine Mammary!" cheered Teatamus upon noticing the Auror.
"This is a temple?" asked Kingsley disoriented by the sight of the witches stripping.
"Yes, we worship the Divine Mammary!"
"Do you take tributes?" asked Kingsley numbly, as he eyed the naked witches dancing and undulating around him.
"They are not necessary but any contribution would be greatly appreciated."
Reaching into his pocket, Kingsley pulled out two galleons and handed them to Teatamus. It just seemed right to pay to be a witness to such a wonderful thing as six beautiful witches dancing in the nude.
"That is most generous, brother, have a seat." Teatamus led the Auror to a nearby squashy chair. The former werewolf turned to one the witches and said "Sister Candy, please show how appreciative we are of Brother Kingsley's donation by dancing for him."
"Of course, Brother Teatamus."
Candy hopped down from the platform and stood before Kingsley and danced for him.
Without taking his eyes from Candy's bouncing breasts, Kingsley retrieved another galleon from his pocket and handed it to Teatamus. The witch's bosom wasn't near the perfection of Hermione's, but they were still quite nice. So much so that Kingsley had to show his appreciation in gold.
Two more wizards entered the building.
"Welcome brothers to the Temple of the Divine Mammary!" Teatamus greeted the two men. "Please have a seat and listen to the Word while the Temple nuns dance for the Divine Mammary!"
The two men dumped handfuls of coins into Teatamus's hands. "Thank you brothers, your generous contributions will help spread the Word! Bubbles, Bambi, please show our gratitude for these fine men with dance!"
Once the Fidelius was cast and Harry told his witches the secret so they could see the hideout, Harry took them into his new master suit, which was located inside the giant rotating Head.
"What are those?" asked Tracey, pointing to a number of lengths of leather and fabric hanging from the ceiling, eighteen feet off the floor.
"Those are sex swings," replied Harry.
"How the hell can we use them?" asked Daphne. "They're too high.'
"We'll have to get a very tall ladder, I suppose," Hermione Jean said.
"It's time to deal out some punishment," announced Harry suddenly. He called out, "Dobby, come here."
The house-elf appeared bowing at Harry feet. "Yous call for Dobby, Harry Potter sir?"
"Yes, Dobby I need your help in a punishment for Pansy." Harry turned to the witch in question and ordered, "You are to be Dobby's slave."
"WHAT?" screeched Pansy.
"You heard me. For your constant transgressions, you are now Dobby's servant," stated Harry. "If Dobby wants you to scrub the floor with a toothbrush, you scrub the floor with a toothbrush. If he wants you to clean the windows by licking them, then by Merlin you better lick them."
Great globs of happy tears rained down Dobby's face. "Harry Potter be giving Dobbby, a lowly house-elf, a witch as a slave? Harry Potter truly is the Greatest Wizard ever!"
As Dobby kissed Harry's feet in reverence, Pansy wailed "I will NOT be a slave to anyone! Especially not a fucking house-elf!"
"If you don't follow Dobby's orders to the letter, then he has permission to beat your naked arse with either a wooden switch or rubber hose – whichever he desires," said Harry.
"The hell he will!" shouted Pansy.
Dobby jumped up, conjured a wooden switch, and struck it across Pansy's bare cheeks. The bald witch cried out in pain. Clutching her welt covered backside, the witch fell to the floor. Wielding the switch over his head like a Samurai sword, Dobby threatened, "Slave don't be talking back to the Greatest Wizard!"
Harry continued; "Pansy, if you perform your tasks to Dobby's satisfaction, I will reward you by stuffing my cock up your arse."
With her lower lip quivering and the hope of having Harry's meat shoved up her bottom, Pansy whimpered, "Okay."
"Good," said Harry. "You may take your slave away Dobby."
"Can I get some clothes first?" asked Pansy.
Dobby swung the switch like a saber and whipped Pansy's bottom. "House-elves wear rags!" He delivered another swat to Pansy's bum. "House-elf's slaves don't be wearing nothing! Now, be standing up! Dobby's gots plenty of humiliating chores to be doing!"
After Dobby led Pansy away, Harry turned to Hermione and her duplicate and said "Now it's time for your punishments."
The two brunettes looked at Harry in surprise and uttered in unison; "Our punishment?"
"Yes, both of you know better than anyone else here that throat shagging with my incredible equipment can be a very dangerous thing. Either one of you could've stopped Tracey and warned her of her actions. But you didn't. And Voldemort's double was killed."
"You're going to punish us for that?" asked Hermione Jean meekly while Hermione gulped.
"Yes, I could've drill Lady Voldemort for information while I drilled her," he said.
Stepping forward, Luna offered, "Harry, if you're going to punish them, you should do the same to me. I am the second in command and I've watched you throat-shag both Hermiones many times. I know the dangers just as well as Hermione and Hermione-Jean."
"Good point," he said. Harry flicked his wand and conjured three chairs. A little rubber jackalope sat in the center of the seats while one chair had a nub a few inches behind the mythical creature.
Hermione's eyes grew wide. Her voice trembled as she cried out in near panic; "Not the Chair! Please, not the Chair! Anything but the Chair!"
"What's that?" asked Hermione Jean.
"It looks familiar," commented Luna.
"You were asleep the last time Harry made it," Hermione sobbed to Luna. She turned to Harry and threw herself on her knees before the wizard. Kissing the back of his hand, Hermione begged; "Please, Harry, not the Chair. Anything but that! I'm sorry! I won't do it again, Master! Please. I will do whatever you want. But spare me, please!"
Harry gave a short laugh and pointed to the chair. "No point in begging. I've made up my mind."
Whimpering and sobbing, Hermione stood and took her seat on the dreaded Chair.
"Luna, the one with the bump behind the jackalope is for you," said Harry.
Once Hermione-Jean and Luna had taken their seats, Harry waved his wand, binding all three witches in place. Another wave and several wires appeared, attacked to various areas on the witches. A third wave and the damn jackalope (as well as the nub which pushed against Luna's anus) began to vibrate on the witches' clitorises.
As waves of pleasure raced through her body, Luna commented; "As far as punishments go, I rather like this one!"
"You won't be saying that in a moment," said a crying Hermione.
Turning his back on the three bound witches, Harry spoke to Tracey, "On to your punishment."
Harry flicked his wand and conjured several leather straps that tied Tracey's hands behind her back and her legs together. Another flick and Tracey began floating toward the bed.
"Could you two help me out?" asked Harry of Daphne and Charlus as Tracey landed on the bed. "I'm going to tickle Tracey's feet while you two slap her titties."
"How hard do you want us to slap her, Master?" asked Daphne.
"Just hard enough to sting."
A few minutes later while Tracey alternately laughed and cried out in pain as she was tickled and slapped mercilessly, Luna announced happily, "I'M GOING TO CUM!" Then the buzzing jackalope stopped, denying the blonde her release. "Oh, that's why you hate the chair, Hermione."
Dumbledore shivered again as another frighteningly large amount of spunk rocketed from his loins and through the rubber tube implanted in his urethra. This was the tenth time in the fifteen minutes since Pamona left that he ejaculated. Harry's cruel poison was wreaking havoc on the ancient Headmaster. He could feel his own heartbeat slow with each excruciating orgasm.
"Please, Pamona my plump love, hurry."
Another huge load sprang from his testicles. The rubber tube whipped around like a fire-hose, spraying his discharge on the plants around him.
"AARGH!" he screamed in agony as yet another load rapidly built. A few moments later, as this load shot from the tube, Dumbledore's heart seized up and stopped.
As the corpse of the venerable wizard slumped over, a sperm coated plant began to rustle and shake.
The pain numbing potions did little to ease Snape's suffering. A white bandage was wound tightly around the stump where his right hand used to be. He grumbled another protest to Auror Clancy. "I should have remained at St. Mungo's where I could heal properly!"
"You're right as rain, sir," Clancy said venomously. "Besides, there's nothing more the Healers could do for you."
Snape opened his mouth to fire off an insult but was cut off when the brute Auror shoved him into the Minister's office.
"Ah, Professor Snape,'" greeted Minister Weasley, "so good of you to join us."
"I was not presented with a different option," Snape said with a sneer.
Percy sighed. He had hoped his former potions instructor would be a little more civil. Alas, Snape was uncivil as always.
"You were brought here by Auror Clancy by my order, Professor Snape," said Percy. "We have successfully taken a number of Death Eaters and their supporters into custody."
"At least you've done a better job than your predecessor," Snape complimented snidely. "But then again, if you can tie your shoes without the aid of an assistant, then you'd do a better job than Fudge."
Ignoring Snape's insult, Percy stated, "A significant number of these prisoners have implicated you, Professor, as a spy for Voldemort."
Unconcerned by the indictment, Snape scoffed. "Ask Headmaster Dumbledore where my allegiances lie."
Looking to Auror Clancy, Percy ordered "Send one of your men to Hogwarts and invite Professor Dumbledore. I would like to ask him some questions."
"Very well, sir," Clancy saluted the Minister. "Sir, what should I do with him?" he asked, eyeing Snape contemptuously.
"Send him to Azkaban for the time being," the Minister ordered.
"You can't send me to Azkaban!" snapped Snape.
"According to Ministry law, I can hold you in Azkaban for up to a week without formally pressing charges," returned Percy confidently. "You will wait there in the Dementors' tender mercies until we can sort out your true allegiances. Good day, Professor."
Snape squawked as Auror Clancy dragged the greasy wizard out of the office.
Groaning, Draco slowly woke up. His entire body screamed out in utter agony. Warm, sticky fluid coated his midsection, groin and thighs. He looked down to see the lower half of his body coated with his own discharge and blood. Apparently his scrotum had become so engorged with semen and blood from his ruptured testicles that it had split open at some point. Knowing he had lost too much blood already, Draco retrieved his wand and performed a healing charm designed to magically mend open wounds.
The blond Slytherin fought back the painful tears as he looked down at his ruined skin. His flaccid organ lay limply on top of his deflated scrotum.
He let his anguish loose when he looked upon his dead lover. The cum that covered her had dried, enveloping the snake-like beauty in a whitish shell.
Burning tears rained down Draco's face. His one true love had been murdered and desecrated by Potter. Rage built inside the young wizard. Ignoring the pain raging through his body, Draco stood. He raised his clenched fist high over his head. Letting the rage pour from his lips, Draco scream; "YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, SCARHEAD! I WILL KILL YOU FOR YOUR CRIME! I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!"
Of course Draco's voice came out in a shrill, ear piercing soprano, but that was understandable since he had just been effectively castrated.
Looking up, Voldemort wondered what was going on in the rooms two floors above. First Narcissa cried out about her rectum then some time later, a little girl screamed something about crime and vengeance.
"I didn't know there were any little girls in the Manor," the Dark Lord commented offhandedly.
Bellatrix shrugged her shoulders. As far as she knew, Draco was the only minor in the house.
"Master! Master!" shouted Wormtail, scurrying to bow before his Lord.
"Wormtail? Where the hell have you been?" demanded Voldemort.
"Sire, I've been acting as your spy; hiding and lurking in the shadows of the Ministry of Magic in my rat form," replied Wormtail.
This was the partial truth for Wormtail had only been at the Ministry building the last two days. Up until that point, Wormtail had been living with the walls of Malfoy Manor. He had entered the walls in an attempt to hide from Voldemort's brutish counterpart; the Flying Death. But in the walls, Wormtail found something that he never imagined. Much like Narcissa and Draco, Wormtail found love.
Her name was Mrs. Brisby. She was a lonely widow whose husband had met his end in a rat trap. Mrs. Brisby had luscious and soft grey hair, an enticing pink tail, and the way her nose twitched when the made love warmed Wortail's heart.
For a short while, Wormtail knew bliss. Everyday was a wonder, where he'd bask in the glory of love with Mrs. Brisby. He was ready to spend the rest of his days in his rat-form. But a few short days before, Wortail's world was shattered. Just as Draco and Narcissa had just discovered, Wormtail learned that love was cruel and fickle. He had returned from his expedition into the Mafloy kitchen to procure some cheese as a gift for his lover. What he saw ripped his heart asunder. Mrs. Brisby was writhing and squeaking passionately under a thrusting Templeton. Templeton was a ruggedly handsome neighbor who lived in the West wall of the library. Wormtail wept at the sight of his lover betraying him. He sulked away, wandering aimlessly and found himself in the Ministry building. There he heard some distressing news.
"Sire, the Aurors have arrested all of your followers and supporters within the Ministry," said Wortail.
"What?" screamed Voldemort.
"Minister Weasley issued an order where every Wizgamount member and Ministry employee had to show their left arms. Everyone who carried your Mark was arrested," explained Wormtail. "And clearly, many of your followers hemorrhaged information and began naming your unmarked supporters."
"How many?" demanded Voldemort.
"Quite a few, Master," the rat-like wizard replied. "I reason that outside this manor, you have only a few Death Eaters and supporters not in Azkaban."
Voldemort clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth in frustration. Weasley was supposed to be his dupe, but had somehow turned the tables and cripple the Dark Lord.
"Master, let me lead a raid on Azkaban," urged Bellatrix with her squeaky voice. "I can free your loyal minions and kill the ones that betrayed your faithful servants to the Ministry."
Turning to face the tiny-headed Death Eater, Voldemort snapped "You fool! Did your brain shrink along with the rest of your head? I only have a few minions under my command and you want to launch an all out attack on a heavily fortified fortress?"
The fiend leveled his wand at his once most trusted servant and cried "Crucio!"
As Bellatrix convulsed on the floor, Wormtail head a slight noise. He turned to face his ex-lover poking her head out from a crack in the wall. For a brief moment, Wormtail hoped and prayed that she was begging forgiveness for her transgressions. He was more then willing to forgive her because Mrs. Brisby meant that much to him. But before he could turn into a rat, Wormtail saw Templeton slip out of a nearby crack and saunter to Mrs. Brisby. The two rats scurried as a pair back into the wall. With anger and grief tearing apart his soul, Wormtail screamed "YOU LOUSY WHORE!"
Voldemort ended the curse on Bellatrix and asked "What was that Wormtail."
Knowing it was too shameful to tell his Master of his adulterous lover, Wormtail lied; "I said 'hurt her more,' my Lord."
"That's a splendid idea, Wormtail," said Voldemort as he recast the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix.
As the female Death Eater screamed in agony, Voldemort said "Because of this recent action by the Ministry, I am forced to take a drastic measure to reinforce my ranks."
"Sire, you can't possibly mean…" began Wormtail in shock.
"Yes, I must dip into my 'Backup Death Eaters'," the Dark Lord said with disappointment.
"Minister Weasley, I've just returned from Hogwarts," said Auror Clark upon entering the Minister's office. "I have terrible news."
"What is it?" asked Percy.
"I regret to inform you that Headmaster Dumbledore has been murdered."
"Oh no!" gasped Mandy. The shocking news hit her so hard that the witch fell into the Minister's chair.
Percy gripped his lover's hand and asked the Auror "Do we know how it happened?"
"Primary inspection charms indicate that he was killed by a potion," the Auror reported. "Not to be crude, but the potion cause Dumbledore to ejaculate to death."
Glowering in anger, Percy asked "Do we know who did it?" The Minister already had a good idea who the murderer was.
"Yes sir. Even though we don't know what the potion was we were able to identify several key components. We found residue of those same ingredients in a cauldron in Professor Snape's laboratory.
"Also, we found Professor Sprout lying unconscious outside Snape's lab," the Auror added.
"Is she alright?" asked Mandy. As a former Hufflepuff, she was worried about the pleasant witch.
"Yes, apparently she fainted," replied Clark. "We took her to St. Mungo's to have her checked out by Healers just in case."
"Oh, thank goodness," the witch sighed.
"Charge Snape with the murder of Professor Dumbledore, Auror Clark," ordered Percy.
"Should we use Veritaserum to get a confession out of the git, sir?" asked Clark.
"I'm afraid it won't work," replied Percy. "From my understanding Snape is a master Occlumens. His mind is very powerful, especially at concealing the truth. Therefore it would be safe to assume Veritaserum would not work properly on Snape. I'm afraid he might be able to lie and tell half truths even under to effects of truth potions."
"Very well sire," Clark said, "we'll chuck him into the darkest, deepest cell in Azkaban."
The mixture of her own discharge and her lover's hot seed slowly trickled down the insides of her thighs. Tonks let out another yelp as Arthur smacked her naked bottom. The stinging sensation of his palm slapping her tender flesh spiked the tingling feeling in her recently shagged womanhood. Another hard slap and she tugged at the bounds holding her hands behind her back.
"Do you promise to give up you evil ways, Dark Lady Dora?" asked Arthur as he slapped her bottom. "Or do I have to attempt to shag the evil out of you again?"
Lifting her red-raw bum in the air, Tonks moaned; "I think you'll have to shag it out of me, Auror Weasley."
Giggling, Arthur said; "This is fun!"
"Hell, I didn't know you'd play a better Auror than I could," she said, crawling off his lap.
"Next time we play, we'll switch and I'll be the Dark Lord," he added as he positioned himself over her.
Slipping back into character, Tonks snarled "Do your best Auror! I will never see the righteous light of goodness!"
"Perhaps my ROD OF TRUTH AND JUSTICE will persuade you!"
A few moments later, Tonks screamed out "BEAT ME, AUROR WEASLEY! BEAT ME WITH YOUR ROD OF TRUTH AND JUSTICE!"
After Tracey's breast were slapped a bright ruby red by Daphne and Charlus, Harry moved on from punishment to an all out four-way shag with the witches. It was the type of shag that encompassed wet, dripping sexes, loud squelching noises, flesh slapping against flesh, and screaming orgasms. Loads of orgasms.
While Harry railed the three witches over and over, Hermione, Luna, and Hermione Jean's punishment continued just a few feet away. By this point the rubber jackalopes would buzz for two seconds, stop for one, and then repeat over and over. The three bound witches were on the panicle of ecstasy – a hairsbreadth away from release. But the damn jackalopes cruelly denied them pleasure.
As Charlus cried out in passion "OH EM GEE! I'M CUMMING!" for the tenth time, Luna lamented loudly with tears flowing freely down her cheeks; "This is NOT fair! We haven't had one orgasm – not a single one – and those three have had oodles!" As the damn jackalope brought her to the edge of release, the blonde cried "It isn't fair!"
Drawing out the three tied-up witches' punishment, Harry ignored Luna's protest and moved from Charlus to buggering Tracey.
Apparating before the stronghold of his Backup Death Eaters, Voldemort sighed heavily. Truly he had sunk low; the once most feared Dark Lord had been force to scrape the bottom of the barrel for minions.
"MASTER!" a voice called out euphorically.
Voldemort sighed a second time as the wizard hobbled up to him. This wizard's left leg was six inches shorter than his right, which gave him a clumsy, rolling gate.
"Hello, Kelyng," Voldemort greeted the wizard approaching him. "How is your wife, daughter, and sister?"
"She's fine, Master," Kelyng said with a nearly toothless smile. "Than's for asking. She'll be please ta know tha' you asked 'bout her."
Kelyng was from a long line of witches and wizards who militantly believed in blood purity. The Kelyngs aggressively practiced intermarrying with family members in order to keep their noble blood line pure for generations. Kelyng's mother and father were brother and sister, as were his grandparents. His great-grandparents were half-brother and sister while their parents were first cousins. Like the dutiful blood purist he was, Kelyng married his own mother after his father passed away. This unholy union produced a crime against nature named Holly. When Kelyng's mother-slash-wife died a few years later, he married Holly. The happy couple is the proud parents of five children. Two of whom are not conjoined at the head.
"Master, when we finally heard tha' you were gunna call upon us ta do your service, me and tha boys decided ta throw you a little shindig," said Kelyng.
"That really wasn't necessary," said Voldemort. "Really not necessary."
"Oh tosh, Sire," Kelyng said, leading Voldemort to the dilapidated farmhouse that doubled as the Backup Death Eaters' hideout.
When Voldemort entered the farmhouse, he sighed for the third time. The sole reason that Kelyng was the leader of the Backup Death Eaters was due to the fact that he was the most intelligent member of the group. And the reason for his intelligence was he was the least inbred wizard or witch in the bunch.
"Hullo, sire," a wizard who had a third arm hanging limp and dead from his neck greeted Voldemort.
A witch who bore a striking resemblance to Brenda from a Muggle TV show about rich teenagers in America pointed up to a sign hanging from the rafters. "Look! We made a banner fer ya!"
Voldemort did not want to look at the banner for he knew he'd be disappointed. But he could not bear to look at the Brenda look-alike with her lopsided eyes. . The witch even had the same haircut as the character – her bangs were cut on an angle in a futile attempt to make her eyes look normal and level. A fourth sigh escaped Voldemort's lips as he read the hand painted banner.
"Bakop Deth Eeters Welkum tha Drak Loord"
"I was tha one who spelled it, Master," boasted Kelyng with pride. "Maxwell did the firs' one but he spelled 'Eaters' with only two 'e's'."
"Yeah, he's a dumb-dumb," said a wizard with no less than four ears.
For a moment, Voldemort toyed with the notion of setting the farmhouse on fire. Knowing the Backup Death Eaters had a combined IQ smaller than his own shoe size, Voldemort theorized that they would all forget where the exits were and would die trying to escape the blaze. However, the Dark Lord was in such dire straights that he was forced to rely upon these inbred buffoons.
Deciding that he should get this over as soon as possible, Voldemort announced "My friends, I'm here to recruit you for my services."
The group looked at Voldemort dumbstruck. Well, removing "struck" from the word would be more accurate.
Voldemort was too disappointed to even sigh. He tried again, this time "dumbing" down his statement so the inbreeds could understand. "Me want you kill people!"
A cheer rose up. Although, many of the Backup Death Eaters were so malformed that their cheers were more like moans and howls. Most of these witches and wizards were drooling freely, as they did whenever they opened their mouth whether it was to speak or eat.
Again, Voldemort sighed as he thought bitterly "How the mighty have fallen."
Panting slightly and pleasantly spent, Harry looked down at Daphne, Tracey, and Charlus (who were turned into a quivering post-coitus blob of limbs) and smiled. He said with well earned pride, "Damn, I'm good."
This author shouldn't have to point out to the reader there wasn't even a tiny bit of humility in Harry's voice. The fact that he was able to shag three witches into unconsciousness at the same time while only feeling a little winded himself brought the wizard no humility whatsoever. But then again, Harry's utter lack of humility should be obvious by this late in the story.
Still bound to her chair and suffering the wicked ministrations of the damned rubber jackalope, Hermione whimpered pathetically, "Please Harry, haven't we been punished enough?"
Hermione, along with her slightly brain damaged duplicate and Luna, had reached the pinnacle of pleasure only to be cruelly denied that final release in-numerous times now (Luna had been at the brink more times than her fellow witches because the blonde had a nub vibrating on her anus as well as the damn jackalope on her clitoris which caused her to reach the very edge of ecstasy faster). Hermione Jean and Luna both echoed the brunette's plea with whimpers of their own.
Smiling, Harry slid off the bed. Walking toward his bound witches, Harry said "Your punishment is almost complete."
Ignoring their groans of protest, Harry forged ahead;
"I've come up with a plan to take over this world. It's quite simple actually. However, I want to use you three as a sounding board – to see if this plan is feasible."
"All we have to do is listen and then you'll stop our punishment?" asked Hermione, knowing it was too easy. Just then, the vibration on her hyper-sensitive nub ceased. "DAMN IT! That one was so effing close!"
"It's not that simple," he answered, confirming the brunette's fears. "You must listen and make mental notes of everything I say. Then, after I'm done detailing my plan, the three of you must give me you honest opinions and suggestions."
"Even me?" asked Hermione Jean with a miserable sniffle. "You want my opinion even with my brain damage?"
"Yes, I value your thoughts," he answered sincerely. "Besides, your physiological setback gives me a unique insight to the average magical person. It's my opinion that the average witch or wizard is as dumb as a shoe. Your unfortunate disability mirrors the average person to that extent."
"Oh, thanks," said Hermione Jean happily. She then wailed when the damn jackalope stopped its buzzing. "Shite!"
"Harry, you know how willing I usually am to help you, but we're not in the best mindset to help you," argued Luna through her tears of frustration. "This damn chair is mucking with me so much I can't even think straight." The blonde's slender body shook and trembled like a leaf in a storm. Her orgasm was just a whisper away from bliss. However the damn jackalope and rubber nub stopped their vibrations. "Bollocks!"
"Again, that gives you better insight," he returned. "You see, my entire plan hinges on the general stupidity of the public. So your addled conditions will actually help me test my plan out."
Harry conjured a comfy chair and sat down. After all this would take a while and he wanted to be comfortable.
The wizard explained his plan in great detail. He stated his theories, observations, and tests that he performed all over the world just a few handful of hours before. He detailed how he was going to dupe the populace. A half hour later, when Harry finally finished, he asked the three witches, "So what do you think?"
"Simply brilliant!" cheered Luna with a whimper.
"Masterfully done, Harry," Hermione blubbered. "Your plan is sure to work."
"What they said," caterwauled Hermione Jean.
"Why thank you," Harry said. "Not that I don't believe you girls didn't listen to me, but what was the second stage of my plan?"
"Erm," began Luna.
"Ah," Hermione moaned hesitantly.
"There was a second stage?" asked Hermione Jean.
In their defense, the three witches tried their very best to listen to Harry's plan for world domination. However the damn jackalope (and the anal bud in Luna's case) proved far too distracting. Their bodies were rocked with wave after wave of teasing of pleasure.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Harry said "All right; let's try this again from the top."
"NOT FROM THE TOP! PLEASE JUST GIVE ME A SUMMARY SO I CAN CUM!" cried Hermione. "PLEASE, MASTER!"
"No," Harry said, and went over his plan for a second time. However, he was meticulously slow this pass. Not only did he speak slowly and repeat a point or two, the wizard padded his explanation with other theories dealing with the dim nature of the wizarding world. It took Harry a little over forty-five minutes to finish his explanation. All the while, Hermione, Luna, and Hermione Jean yelp, groaned, moaned, and cried in a mixture of passion and frustration.
"So, what do you think?"
"Wow, I believe you really could use witches and wizards' gullibility that way," said Luna as her whole body trembled uncontrollably, on the very cusp of physical exhilaration and exhaustion.
"And using the floo network is sheer brilliance," added Hermione Jean whose skin had turned a luminescent red. The poor witch's womanhood visibly throbbed.
Instead of answering, Hermione looked away from Harry. The brunette bit her lip hard to stifle back the agonizing moan caused by the thrice-damned jackalope torture. After a second, the wizard asked "What do you think Hermione?"
She replied hesitantly, "It won't work."
"And why not?" asked Harry.
Trying her best to ignore the raging inferno caused by the malicious jackalope, the brunette answered with a quivering jaw, "Yes, people are stupid. But they can't be that stupid."
"I think Hermione's lost her senses," Luna interrupted. "The damn jackalope has robbed her of her thoughts."
"Yes, what she meant to say was 'yes Harry, it's brilliant'," added Hermione Jean desperately. "Now can we cum, please?"
Harry looked at Hermione and said "Tell me the truth."
Hermione worried her lip and groaned in frustration and almost-pleasure before responding, "What you're suggesting would take a lot of power." Her whole body clenched up and the buzzing between her legs ceased. "FUCK!"
"Yes, but I wouldn't actually do it," he argued. "I would just make people believe that I had and they would surrender to me."
"That's true," said Hermione. Letting out a frustrated sob, she countered; "But even though I happen to agree with you that people are gullible, I think they would have a hard time believing a teenager such as yourself – oh fuck, oh fuck! I wanna cum so bad – is powerful enough to cast such a hex through the floo network."
"What if we were to 'cast the hex' on a few key figures," offered Harry. "That way we could show people that I do have the amount of power necessary."
"But I thought there wasn't a hex?" asked Hermione Jean. "You said there was no such curse and that you were going to pretend that you created it. Oh, here it comes—DAMN IT!"
"Yes, but they're a few potions that have the same effect as what I'm planning," he answered. "We just slip these key people the potion and then say it was the hex I cast through the floo network."
Harry tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment. "However, I do see your point, Hermione. People would have a hard time believing someone my age having such power."
Clicking his fingers, Harry announced; "But if we show them that I am that powerful, they would believe I could cast such a hex through the floo network!"
"How could do that?" asked Hermione.
"Easy; I kill Voldemort and all of his followers in a spectacular fashion in front of an audience," he answered.
"What about Voldemort's Horcruxes?" asked Hermione Jean. Before she continued, the brunette once again reached the very peak of passion only to be let down. "Fuck! I was almost there!"
"She's right," said Luna. "Both about the climax – I was so damn close myself – and the Horcruxes. "Since Voldemort is immortal, all you'd be doing by killing him is destroying his body. He would eventually resurrect himself again."
"And when that happens, not only would you lose face but people would start to believe you're not as powerful as you claim," speculated Hermione. She whimpered under her breath "when I finally get to cum, I'll be a fucking geyser" before continuing with her argument; "It would only be a matter of time before people start to question your claim."
"True," he said.
As her body shuttered under the cruel effects of the damn jackalope, Hermione's eyes wandered to the Summoning Stone and ritual book Harry had stolen from under Voldemort's nose.
"I think I have an idea…"
Hermione spent the next half hour explaining this new idea to Harry. Normally it would've taken the brunette a few moments to give words to her thoughts, but her mental process was hindered greatly by the physical need for release. Her comments and thoughts were constantly interrupted with sobs and obscenities caused by the hellish device. When she finally finished, Harry said; "That's a great plan, Hermione. Thank you."
"You're welcome," she said. Her breath was now coming in short, shallow gasps. "Can I please cum now and take a kip?"
"There's a problem with that," Harry said. He pointed down to his groin to show the three witches that he was the proud owner of a large erection. "Watching you ladies in the throws of passion lit a fiery desire within me. A desire that needs to be quenched."
"You can make me cum and shag my tittes while I'm unconscious," pleaded Hermione.
"No, I'm afraid the only thing that will help alleviate my state is a nice four-way shag-fest," he said. Harry pointed to Charlus, Tracey, and Daphne and said "I can't use them, so I'll have to insist that you three pleasure me."
"But we'll cum if you touch us," Luna pointed out.
"And as Hermione said, once we cum, we'll lose consciousness," added Hermione Jean.
"Well, look at it like a challenge: you must fight off you fatigue and pleasure me," he said. "Of course if you fall asleep before I lose my erection, then I'll be forced to punish you again."
"Bugger," moaned Luna. "You'll put us back in these chairs again, won't you?"
"Yes, for a whole day," threatened Harry.
"Fuck, this is going to make me sore," complained Hermione.