FicWad

If I claim that I own Harry Potter, will I get all that money? No? Well, then there’s no use claiming something that isn’t true.



A/N It’s been a long time coming, but the Fleur situation is finally resolved.





The Unexpected Result Of. . .





. . .A Veela Obsession





Despite his mid-morning romp with Parvati, Harry was still quite randy all through lunch. Not for the first time, he wished that he didn’t have Divination, only now it was because the double class he had that afternoon would prevent him from dragging Gabby or Ginny or any number of girls up to his bed and shagging them senseless.

To make matters even worse, Hermione leaned over to him halfway through his lunch and whispered, “Mas— Ha—arry—” It appeared she was still having trouble addressing him as anything other than “Master”. “—am I to accompany you to your afternoon class?”

“Don’t you have Ancient Runes?” he asked.

She lowered her head as though ashamed and nodded without looking up. “Yes, M—Harry,” she said.

“Well, then, I want you to attend your classes as normal.”

She looked back up at him with an expression of confusion and perhaps a little fear. He put his arm gently around her to try to comfort her.

“What’s the matter, Hermione?” he asked quietly.

“M—Harry,” she said shakily, “I will not be with you. How will I know if you require me? I will not be able to serve you.”

“I’ll be fine, Hermione,” he said. “I’ve survived the class for nearly a year without you. I think I can manage one afternoon.”

Hermione still seemed unsure, so again, he sent Gabby to go with her and keep her calm. He regretted this as he watched the pair leave the Hall as he’d been developing some vague notions about Gabby hiding underneath a table at the back of the Divination classroom. It certainly would have helped him with his urges. Now, unfortunately, he was on his own until dinner time.

As he made his way up to the seventh floor and the rope ladder that led to Trelawney’s classroom, thinking about just how long that double Divination was going to seem, a broom cupboard door opened and a hand shot out and pulled him into the dark.

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “Who—”

“Shhh,” said a voice. He couldn’t tell who it was.

Hands unfastened his robes faster than he’d thought possible. Those same hands began lightly trailing patterns around exposed areas of his skin and fondling his growing erection through the material of his boxers.

“What—” he said.

“Shhh,” the voice said again. “Just relax.” It was whispered and provided no more clues as to it’s owner than did the darkness.

This was a bad idea, he told himself. He most certainly should not be in a broom cupboard with someone he didn’t know. It could be dangerous. They could easily be caught. It would likely be embarrassing for both of them. But the feelings that were already travelling up his spine from his cock were quite effectively clouding his judgement.

Still, he told himself, no matter how good it feels, no matter how aroused he was, he should probably put a stop to it. He was on the point of doing so when he felt his shorts being lowered—over his erection, past his thighs, down to his ankles. Even in the pitch black of the cupboard he felt exposed to this unknown person as she (God, he hoped it was a she) began stroking him directly.

“I don’t—” he began.

“Shhh, don’t talk,” the voice whispered once again. “Just enjoy it.”

After a bit of fumbling, lips found his and a very erotic kiss ensued. He couldn’t believe just how turned on he was by kissing and being fondled by this unknown person. Instinctively, he brought his hands around to embrace her, but he only managed a brief touch of cloth-covered upper arms and long hair before his arms were pushed back down by his sides and her hand returned to stroking his cock. He couldn’t help but moan; his arousal was doing his thinking and, just then, he couldn’t even begin to imagine putting a stop to what was happening.

The other hand began gently massaging his bollocks and he couldn’t help but let his head fall back in pleasure. He bit his lip to stifle a groan as he enjoyed the electric thrill surging through him.

“Does that feel good?” the voice breathed.

He nodded and then his arousal-fogged brain realized that she wouldn’t have been able to see it.

“Yes,” he said.

“Good.”

Suddenly there was a new sensation—hot, wet tongue gliding around the head of his cock, sliding over sensitive areas, licking up the fluid dripping from the tip. This time he could only stifle most of the groan and he had to fight to keep his hands from searching out her hair. His hips thrust gently forward once of their own volition and he breathed loudly through his nose as he grit his teeth in an effort to maintain control of his own body; the urge to shove her back against the wall and thoroughly shag her was growing.

The sucking sensations on his cock along with the swirling softness of her tongue and the stroking of her hand on the shaft set fire to the most primal and primitive parts of his brain.

“Oh, God,” he whispered heavily. “That’s so good.”

She stopped sucking long enough to whisper back, “I’m glad you like it.” She returned her attentions to his cock and Harry shivered in pleasure. She was inexperienced but enthusiastic and that quickly had Harry working to delay his climax in order to longer enjoy her ministrations.

She laved the head of his erection with her tongue and lightly stroked the shaft. Her other hand caressed his balls as she did so. Harry’s abdominal muscles tensed in pleasure and his cock throbbed in her warm, wet mouth. She ran her tongue along the underside of his manhood as she slid him as deeply into her mouth as she could take him before pulling back, bobbing her head on him, nearly managing to bump the back of her throat. Her strokes increased in pace and his breathing became louder and more forced as he began panting with desire. She drew back and tickled the opening at the end of his cock with her tongue before swirling around the head again.

His eyes adjusting to the darkness, he could finally make out some of the girl in front of him in the bit of light that found it’s way under the door. It was not enough to tell who she was, however, merely enough to see that she was petite—though he had known that from the small amount of contact he’d had with her.

“Getting close,” he said through gritted teeth. She moaned on him and his cock throbbed and his stomach muscles spasmed in response. He thrust forward unconsciously and managed to bump into her throat. She reacted by quickly pulling back to keep from gagging leaving just his head in her mouth. The sensation was enough for Harry however as he grunted as quietly as he could manage and erupted, coating her tongue and teeth and throat with his hot, salty sperm, barely managing a quietly grunted “Now!” before he did so. Five, six, seven contractions at the base of his hardness as he squirted into her mouth, the feelings he was receiving from her lips as she swallowed his seed extending his orgasm.

Eventually, his climax subsided but she continued gently sucking on him; her ministrations and his rampant libido causing him to never go soft.

“That was wonderful,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

She had removed herself from his cock and stood up—she was a few inches shorter that him, he noticed—and his hand slipped between her legs. It was only fair that he return the favour after all. He only got a quick feel of soft, wet, bald cunt lips when she’d grabbed his arm and forced his hand away, however.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she said. “And don’t thank me yet.”

She pulled him closer and took his manhood in hand. As he came close enough, she manoeuvred it to the entrance of her waiting cunt. After a bit of awkward repositioning, he slid completely inside her. She was incredibly tight but very aroused judging by how slick she was.

It soon became apparent that, with her smaller size and with them both standing, she was just not able to fuck herself on his cock, so, with a bit of shifting, Harry began thrusting in and out of her grasping channel. Trying to respect her desire for him to. . . keep his hands to himself, for lack of a better phrase, he braced himself on the wall behind her as he pistoned his hips. She was moaning in pleasure in no time and doing her best to thrust right back on him.

She parted his robes and leaned forward, pressing little kisses on his chest as she mewled and whimpered and moved on him. He bent down and, using one hand, lifted her chin, attempting to find her mouth with his. He found her nose first but didn’t let that deter him. He placed a kiss right on the end, then kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. The wet, squishing sounds of their union filled the small space as their mouths found each other. Lips parted and tongues duelled; he could taste himself in her kiss but he didn’t care. The unknown aspect of the encounter seemed to heighten every little touch and taste and twitch.

Their kiss broke and she dotted his face with her lips, becoming more and more insistent. The ripples of her sex was all he needed to tell him that she was perhaps even more turned on by their tryst in the dark than he was. She allowed a long groan to escape followed soon after by a very feminine, very sexy, inhalation. A few more thrusts and he could hear her breathing heavily through her nose as she bit her tongue to keep from crying out. She twitched and practically fell on him as she came, her cunt clasping and grasping at his cock as though trying to rip it from his groin. He slipped his hands inside her open robes and pulled her hips tightly to him, both to increase the stimulation of her clit and extend her orgasm but also to stop her thrusting thereby delaying his; despite the fact that he’d just come, he was nearing his release once again.

As she recovered from her climax and his need to spill himself lessened, he began thrusting once more, this time with his hands still firmly planted on her hips. It was difficult to tell anything about them, however except for the fact that they were smooth and small. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed herself back so that she was resting her upper back against the wall. This gave her better purchase to thrust herself onto his cock.

The feel of her surrounding him was causing fireworks in the back of his head, popping with blinding flashes in his over-aroused brain. His thrusting became more desperate even as she began building towards her second orgasm. Probably forgetting just where she was and the danger involved, her now nearly incessant mewling and moaning and turned to grunts and squealing. Not thinking about silencing the door, Harry simply moved one of his hands from her hips and covered her mouth.

“Shhh,” he said quietly; the irony of this sudden role reversal was not lost on him. “Someone will catch us. Keep it down.”

“Just fuck me,” she whimpered in response, though she’d quietened down some for which he was thankful. “Fuck me hard.”

Not one to ignore a request—or command—he picked up the pace and became a little more forceful. She noticed immediately and bit down on her lip to keep from crying out.

“Oh, gods, Harry,” she breathed. “That feels lovely. Harder. Faster.”

He moved his hand back to her hip and, gripping her tightly, began thoroughly pounding into her, spearing her welcoming cunt with his rock hard shaft, slamming his pubic bone into her fleshy pussy lips, brutally impacting her clit with each inward thrust. She reached out with her hands as though to grab him but couldn’t seem to find anything to hold onto with her shoulders resting against the wall as they were. One of her hands found his robes and gripped with all her strength, the other slipped down to the top of her cunt and danced over her clit a few times. The extra stimulation was all she needed.

She stifled a squeal in the back of her throat as she came all over his cock again, the added fluid that her climax provided causing his sex to smack noisily against hers as it ran down her legs, causing her inner thighs to glisten in the dim light from under the door. Her teasing hand lost it’s drive and dropped to her side.

Harry performed his little stop and grind manoeuvre again to halt his progression towards climax and extend her euphoria. He was much closer this time, however and the sensations he was receiving from her convulsing cunt muscles refused to let him back away from his orgasm. He moved one hand from her hip and found her sex. He picked up where she left off, intent on driving her to ecstasy a third time.

He cautiously began thrusting again, while still working hard to stimulate her little button. She never really had a chance to completely come down off her second before she started the climb towards her next. That was fine with Harry because he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Fuck me. Make me come.”

“You need it?” he whispered. “You need to come?”

She nodded clumsily and he could just make out the shine of her hair as she did so.

“You need my cock, don’t you?” he asked.

Again, she nodded.

“You’re a slut aren’t you?”

Another nod.

“A wanton slut.” He was not even waiting for her replies any more.

“You need cock like you need air, like you need water.”

Nod.

“You have to feel yourself impaled on me, don’t you?”

“Oh, gods, yes!” It was a screamed whisper.

He pounded into her moist folds and fingered her nubbin furiously. Her head was lolling clumsily back and forth as though she were waking from sedation. She was nearly out of it. And she was close—so close to coming that he could feel the warning ripples in her inner walls.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.” she said, before simply whimpering incoherently.

Harry wasn’t going to be able to wait much longer. His cock was throbbing and his balls were tightening; he was going to come at any moment. He could no longer concentrate on keeping his hand moving on her cunt. He moved it back to her hip and drove into her violently a few more times.

“Oh, God,” he said. “I’m going to come.”

That was apparently all she needed as her breath hitched and she came. He followed not a second behind her, shoving himself deep inside and filling her slippery channel with thick, sticky splashes of semen.

He moved his hands and braced himself on the wall again to keep from using her to hold himself up as his climax raced through all the nerve endings of his body. He was sweaty and panting and only now aware of just how hot and humid it had become inside their little cupboard.

As they recovered from their orgasms, they separated and began fumbling in the dark for clothes. Somehow, even as he was still trying to get his boxers on the right way round, she had her robes all fastened and was ready to leave.

“So,” she whispered, having caught most of her breath. He could hear the amusement in her voice. “Figured out who I am?”

He could easily light his wand and know for sure, but somehow he knew that would spoil it. Besides, he didn’t think he really needed to.

“I think so,” he said.

“You only think?” It was clearly mock hurt in her question as he could make out the laughter buried in her words.

“I think,” he reiterated. He had managed his boxers finally and was in the process of fastening up his robes.

“Well, perhaps this will help,” she said as she pressed a small piece of cloth into his hand. “You earned it.”

And in a flash of door, too fast to make out anything—especially since he was looking at the item she’d given him—she was gone.

He finished with his robes and slipped out the door, looking surreptitiously around for any observers.

Two turns and three staircases later, he dared to look at the item in his hand. He held it up and straightened it enough to tell what it was before flushing and stuffing it quickly in his pocket.

It was a pair of white cotton knickers with a bit of lacy trim.

After arriving in class and apologizing for being so late without an excuse, he counted his blessings that he didn’t receive a detention or have any points docked as Trelawney claimed she couldn’t bring herself to punish someone who had “so little time left before the end.” Ron merely asked him where he’d been and why he was sweaty.

Even though nearly half an hour of Divination had passed by the time he’d taken his seat, the remainder of the class seemed as though it were attempting to extend to the very limits of eternity. He wanted nothing more than for the day to be over because he couldn’t wait to get back to his dorm room for some private time with Gabby. Or Ginny. Or Hermione. Or all of them. Perhaps he could convince Susan and Hannah and Alicia, Angelina, Katie, Vicky, Cloyssa and Parvati to come along. He could stand to go a couple rounds with each of them. . .

God, was he randy.

The dim lighting and the warm, perfumed air of the Divination classroom sought to lull him to unconsciousness, causing his limbs to feel heavy and his eyelids to droop dangerously. Ron had to nudge him more than once to keep him awake.

All he wanted to do was sleep.

And fuck.

It was too bad Gabby was with Hermione, she could have fucked him in the back of the classroom whilst he nodded off. She could slowly open his robes—it was dark enough back where he was sitting that surely no one would notice—and slip his cock out of his shorts, casually licking and sucking it till it stood up and begged for the attention of her perfect cunt. She’d slide up his body and position herself so that her sex was poised over his stiff arousal. Sliding down onto him, he would toss his head back and moan quietly in pleasure, revelling in every exquisite millimetre of her slippery, young channel. Her silvery blond hair, waving in undulating sheets as she moved sexily, grinding herself on his. . .

“Hey mate,” Ron whispered, elbowing him once again. “Wake up.”

Gabrielle vanished leaving him aroused and unsatisfied. He shifted in his chair and adjusted his robes a bit to hopefully stop Ron seeing his erection. He flushed with the sensation of being caught, but hoped it was too dark for his friend to notice.

“You all right?” he asked. “You were groaning or something.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. Why couldn’t he be fucking now? And why was he so horny?

By the time Divination was over and dinner had begun, he wanted nothing more than to fuck Gabby the moment he saw her. He forced himself to sit calmly and eat, however, as he was sure that, should she pull her little suck-him-of-under-the-table trick, he would forget the audience of hundreds of students and faculty and simply throw her down and shag her senseless. She could tell that he was agitated though and quietly asked him if there was anything she could do for him.

“When we get back to the common room, tell Hermione and Ginny that they’ll be sleeping in their own beds tonight,” he said in an undertone. “Then meet me in my bed.”

She looked at him with a mischievous smile, looking for all the world like the cat who got the canary. He could tell she knew she was going to be fucked long and hard tonight and was looking forward to it. No doubt she’d felt his climaxes as he’d fucked first Parvati and then the “mystery girl” in the cupboard. She was likely as anxious as he was to have a few hours alone together.

She placed her hand on his thigh and moved it slowly up towards his crotch.

“Do you want to play, Master?” she asked huskily.

“Oh, God, yes,” he breathed. “If you move that hand any farther, I’m likely to take you right here on the table in front of everyone.”

She giggled but stilled her hand.

“Promises, promises, Master,” she said playfully.

Back up in the common room, Ginny and Hermione gave him no trouble, though Harry had to turn down a game of Wizard Chess from an insistent Ron.

“But it’s been ages since we’ve played, Harry,” he said petulantly.

“I know, Ron,” said Harry, longing for his bed and the eager sex toy waiting at the bottom of the stairs to the boys dorm. “But I’m really knackered tonight. Maybe tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Gabby’s hand and pulled her up the stairs.

“Are you as desperate as I am, Master?” she asked as she started working on his robes, hands flying quickly from fastening to fastening.

“More,” he responded as he kicked off his shoes and stripped off his socks. “I’ve been hard nearly constantly since this morning. Sure I had sex twice, but I still feel like I haven’t had any for a week.”

She pulled his boxers down and he reached for her sex, already slick with arousal. In response, she merely pulled him onto the bed so that he landed on top of her.

“No foreplay, Master,” she purred. “I’ve been feeling your need all day and I’m ready now. Fuck me.”

“As you command, My Lady,” he said with a grin. He smiled and flicked his wand at the curtains, silencing them. Without waiting any longer, he lined his cock up with her slippery entrance and pushed, plunging all the way in with one smooth move. She cried out in desire and pleasure.

They rutted like animals for hours, finally collapsing next to each other, sweaty and naked and messy with their drying fluids. Neither was truly satisfied, but both were exhausted and needed rest.

Harry’s dreams gave him no reprieve, however. He found himself walking the halls of Hogwarts wearing only his boxers. He might have been embarrassed—having had dreams like this before—but no one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. Add to that the fact that every single female he saw appeared to be dressed as though it were a fancy dress party and they’d all come as Gabby and embarrassment was the last thing on his mind. However, every time he drew near one of them, something would prevent him from actually reaching her; she would turn a corner suddenly and disappear—he would be blocked by a group of students walking between them and once they’d passed, she would be gone—something would draw his attention away and when he’d turn back she would no longer be there.

He tried calling out to these girls but they never seemed to hear him. He tried running, but it was just no use. His erection was painful and he wanted nothing more than to catch one of these girls and pull her into a classroom or a cupboard or simply down to the floor in the middle of the hallway and fuck her for hours.

Frustrated, he entered a classroom, hoping that, in a confined space, his prey would be less elusive. As he closed the door behind him, he found each and every desk filled with beautiful, naked, willing young girls, all with collars of black leather and definite looks of hunger.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” said McGonagall from the front of the class. Harry silently thanked whatever gods there were that she was not dressed like the girls. “You’re finally here.” He turned to see her waiting expectantly. “Well, come on up here. The students are waiting for class to begin and we certainly can’t start without you, now can we?”

He slowly began making his way through an ocean of tempting, naked flesh only to find them reaching out to stroke and caress and touch and tease any part of him they could reach. He stopped several times to return their affections, but each time, McGonagall would clear her throat impatiently in an attempt to hurry him along.

As he reached the front of the room, he was made to strip out of his shorts to the amusement, lust and desire of the assembled witches seated at the desks. They seemed to lean forward as one at the sight of his engorged cock. Many of them were licking their lips in anticipation; a couple were whispering excitedly to neighbours.

“Now,” said McGonagall in an authoritative tone, effectively collecting the attention of the class. “Today’s lesson is about male masturbation. You’ll all want to pay attention as this will be on the final exam.”

One girl’s hand shot up. Harry saw her tits jiggle invitingly at the movement. McGonagall called on her.

“For the final exam,” the girl asked in what Harry thought was a very sexy voice, “will it be Harry that we’ll all be masturbating?” The rest of the class giggled and the professor’s lips thinned.

“Of course,” she said. “Who else?”

More giggles accompanied two of the girls in the front row actually reaching towards him as though they wanted nothing more than to take the final exam right then. Harry would have been more than willing to let them try.

“Now,” said McGonagall, beginning the lesson, “the first thing you’ll want to do is to grasp his penis thus.” She reached down and lightly gripped him with her hand. Harry swallowed. Was his stern professor really going to give him a hand job right there in front of a roomful of girls?

That is in fact what she did. The strangeness of it being McGonagall giving him pleasure was offset by the nude flesh surrounding him—overwhelming his senses. He was on the point of his release when the bell rang and McGonagall stopped abruptly. Not to be disappointed, Harry reckoned that he would simply get one of these eager girls to finish him off. Before he could so much as call out a single name, however, they’d all scrambled for the door.

“Wait!” he called. But it was no use. Frustrated and desperate for sex, he strode for the door, determined to catch one of them and have his way with her.

“Mr. Potter,” said McGonagall as he reached the door.

He turned back to her only to find that McGonagall was gone. In her stead was an impishly smiling Gabrielle.

“Oh, Gabby!” he said happily. “Thank God you’re here.” He rushed to her, fully expecting something to prevent him reaching her. Nothing did, however, and he gathered her in his arms and whispered in her ear just how happy he was that she was there.

“I think it is time we take care of this,” she said, indicating his rigid manhood.

“Oh, yes!” he said. She pushed him back onto the desk and climbed onto him, straddling his hips.

She turned to face the empty room which he now noticed was no longer empty but filled with yet another group of delectable, young, eager girls. He hadn’t even heard them come in.

“In this class,” she said, addressing the students like a professor, “we will be learning about fucking.” There was a murmur of excitement that passed through the room and he noticed several girls slipping their hands down under their desks.

Gabby raised herself up and slid back down, impaled on his cock. She began a quick steady rhythm, bouncing up and down on him, her moist, tight sex speaking directly to his arousal.

“Oh, God, Gabby,” he moaned. “That’s so good.”

“Ms. Potter, I have a question.” It was one of the girls in class with her hand raised. Harry was startled to see that it was Hermione. He was equally startled to see Parvati, Hannah, Susan, Cloyssa, Ginny, Katie, Alicia, Angelina and Vicky. But he blinked in shock when he saw that the last girl in the room was Gabby, sitting quietly with a somewhat sad, slightly resigned look on her face.

The Gabby currently fucking him said, “Oui? What is your question, ’Ermione?”

Harry turned back to his lover to see silvery blond hair, full hips and bouncing breasts on a tall frame.

It was not Gabby he was fucking.

His eyes snapped open and he found himself in his four poster with someone sitting on his thighs, slowly rubbing up and down on his cock with her hot, damp sex.

He rolled and practically threw her off him.

“Fleur?” he yelled in shock. “What the fuck?”

Gabby, who awoke at his shout, sprang to her knees and hissed at her sister in a way that it put Harry in mind of a feral cat. Harry shook his head to try to clear the cobwebs left behind from his sleep. Fleur reached out and tried to run her finger down Harry’s naked chest, but he snatched her arm and threw it aside.

“What’s ze matter, ’Arry?” she asked with a mock pout. “Are you not aroused by me? Do you not find me sexy?”

Harry looked from Gabby, who looked like she would like nothing more that for him to tell her to kill her sister painfully and slowly, back to Fleur.

“No, Fleur,” he said. “I don’t.”

Fleur seemed unaware of the abundant anger that the other occupants of the bed held for her right then. She smiled coyly at Harry and tried to look sultry.

“I zink you are lying, Harry,” she said. “I zink you find me irresistible. I zink you want nozzing more zan to make love to me—to take me and make me yours.”

Realization hit him and Harry felt as if all the air had suddenly gone out of the room. Gabby, who had been looking at her sister as though she were some slimy bug to be squashed, slowly turned to face her Master with a look of growing shock and dread. Harry gaped as he came to understand just why he’d been so randy all day. He felt hatred swelling in his chest and asked the question to which all three knew the answer.

“You initiated a Desmi,” he said coldly. “Didn’t you?”

Fleur simply smiled and nodded as though she’d been caught doing something as innocent as throwing dungbombs or scratching a dirty joke into a bathroom stall. It was as though she didn’t understand the magnitude of what she’d done. Perhaps she truly didn’t. The silence hung in the air like something palpable for several moments. When Harry next spoke it was with a quiet fury that finally gave Fleur pause.

“You absolute bitch !” Fleur’s smile slipped as Harry panted, trying to control the rage that was mixed with dangerous amounts of lust and arousal. His cock was painfully hard and drooling and a very real part of him was afraid that he might lose control and rape her. Already he could feel the burning need for sex and with his current hatred for the girl, it would almost certainly be. . . unpleasant for her, no matter what she expected.

“’Arry?” she said quietly clearly trying to salvage what she seemed to think was the perfect mood. “What is ze matter? Do you not find me attractive?”

Harry clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palms. Everything she said—every seductive word—grated on his nerves and stoked his anger.

“Do not say anything else.” It was said with a venom that actually seemed to frighten Fleur.

“’Arry,” she said, disregarding his order. “You are scaring me. What is wrong?”

Forcing himself to clamp down on his anger at this betrayal, he said, “‘What’s wrong?’ ‘What’s wrong?’ she asks.” He laughed humourlessly. “What’s wrong is that I want so much to fuck you right now that I can barely control it.”

“So what is ze problem?” she asked stupidly. He slapped her. Hard. Hard enough to knock her onto her side. She clutched her cheek as she looked back up at him in shock.

“The problem,” he said in a mocking tone, “is that I also hate you so much right now for initiating this Desmi, that I’m not sure you’d like or even survive the experience.” She looked confused as though she couldn’t understand why he might be angry with her. “I have half a mind to refuse it and let the Veela council have their way with you.” Now she looked really confused.

“Veela council?” she asked.

“God, how could you be so stupid?” demanded Gabby, speaking for the first time since their rude awakening. “If he rejects your Desmi, you’ll be taken before the Veela council to answer for the crime of initiating a Desmi without consent. And since Harry isn’t Veela, it’s automatically a death sentence.” Fleur now looked scared. “And right now I almost wish he would do it.”

Harry’s hatred for the older Veela softened at those words, however.

“I won’t though,” he said. Gabby looked over at him.

“Why not?” she asked. It was a testament to just how angry and hurt she was that she didn’t immediately acquiesce to his intentions.

“Because she’s your sister,” he said. “And as much as you hate her right now, you would eventually hate me for doing it.”

Gabby glared defiantly at him for a moment before all the fight left her and she seemed to deflate. Fleur, apparently not knowing what to say merely looked back and forth between her sister and her potential bond-mate. Gabby moved next to Harry and they fell into each other’s arms, giving and receiving comfort. Finally, Harry looked back over at Fleur.

“Why?” he said simply.

She seemed at a loss for words now. The gravity of what she’d done appeared to be sinking in.

“Why would you initiate a Desmi with me? Why would you do this to me? —to Gabby? —to your own sister?”

Fleur opened her mouth but closed it again without saying anything.

“Answer me,” he said quietly but forcefully.

She mumbled something that sounded more French than English.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Fleur,” he said. “Why did you do it?”

“Because I need to orgasm!” she finally said.

Harry blinked and his brow furrowed. That was not the answer he was expecting.

“Come again?” he said.

“Ever since zat day in ze classroom when you used your ‘pull’ on me,” she said, refusing to look either of them in the eye, “I ’ave been. . . bander. . . excité .” She looked over at her sister—though not in the eye. “How do you say. . .?” she asked.

“Randy,” Gabby translated.

“Ah, Oui ,” said Fleur. “And I have not been able to make myself climax.” She looked down in embarrassment, it was apparently sinking in that she’d done a very ill conceived and permanent thing for a very stupid reason.

Harry felt his anger rising again. She had had the nerve—the audacity—to bind herself to him—and him to her—because she couldn’t bring herself off? Images of the Veela council telling her what a stupid, self-centred little slut she was flitted unbidden through his mind. He gripped Gabby tighter in an effort to calm himself. Fleur just seemed unsure about whether or not she should even move. Finally, after a few moments, Harry and Gabby pulled apart a bit.

“Fleur,” he said. “I think Gabby and I need to have a conversation. Why don’t you go stand by the door.” He jerked his head towards the door to the dorm. Fleur reached for her robes which had been abandoned at the foot of the bed. “No,” he said, stopping her in her tracks. “Leave the robes. Go stand there as you are.” She gulped but did as he asked.

After Fleur was outside the silencing charm, Harry said, “So, what do you think?”

There was a long pause before Gabby replied.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Part of me—a very large part—says you should reject the Desmi. I can’t believe she would willingly do something so dangerous. And for such a selfish, stupid, pointless reason.” She sighed heavily. “But, while you’re wrong about me coming to hate you—I could never hate you, Master—I can’t say that I want her to die. She is my sister after all and I love her dearly. I hate that she’s placed this on you, Master.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I’m ashamed for her.”

Harry nodded and, though she couldn’t see it the way they were holding each other, he knew she could feel it.

“Ultimately,” she said after a few minutes of quiet contemplation, “it is your decision. You are the one she will be bonded to. While I’ll have to live with her, knowing what she did, you will be the one most affected.”

“True,” he said. He thought for a few moments more before continuing. “I’ll complete the Desmi.” He sighed and pulled away from Gabby so that he could look her in the eyes. He smirked at her. “But she’s not going to enjoy it like she thinks she will.”

Gabby grinned evilly back at him. She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. “There’s nothing that says she has to orgasm for the Desmi to form. I don’t see anything wrong with a little punishment. During and after.”

“Oh, I’m going to make sure that she regrets her actions for a long while, I think,” he said. He started to stick his head out the curtain but paused, looked over his shoulder at Gabby and said, “Follow my lead,” before he did so.

“Fleur,” he whispered. He crooked his finger at her when she responded to his voice. She’d been looking around the room at the other beds as though expecting one of the boys to jump out and attack her, all the while trying to cover herself with her hands. But she was, in fact, standing right where he’d ordered her to stand. She wasted no time in sprinting silently over to the bed and climbing back in.

“OK,” said Harry, “this is how it’s going to go.” She sat back on her knees and listened carefully. There was a definite look of fear in her eyes. “We are going to complete the Desmi,” he went on. She sagged in relief and a smile began to spread across her face. “But,” he said loudly, catching her attention and calling a halt to her smile. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t to be punished for what you’ve done.” She gulped but nodded.

“The reason you initiated the Desmi was because you wanted to come,” he said. She was apparently right there with him as her eyes suddenly went very wide. “So, from now until the Desmi is complete, you are not to allow yourself to orgasm. Understand? No matter how much you want it—no matter how badly you need it—you will deny yourself the pleasure of release.” He saw her fighting a smirk, obviously thinking that she could get away with disobeying him. He lowered his voice and continued dangerously, “Because if I even think you’ve let yourself climax, I’ll stop and hand you over to the council.” She no longer had to fight off the smirk.

“If you zink I will agree to your leetle demand,” she said irritably, “you can forget it. I will not be treated so.” She turned sideways so that she was no longer facing him and crossed her arms under her naked breasts. If she thought she could control the situation in which she found herself, however, she was greatly mistaken. Harry reached out, grabbed her arm, tossed her onto her back and was instantly on top of her, between her legs, pinning her to the bed.

“Let’s get one thing straight, you stupid bint,” he growled in her face, ignoring her startled exclamation at being treated so roughly. “You initiated this Desmi without my consent which means you have already agreed to every demand I might make of you. The alternative, as has already been pointed out to you, is death. You have no say in how I treat you.” He moved closer to her and lowered his voice to an angry whisper. “And right now, I have no desire to treat you well at all. If you don’t like it, you know where the door is.”

She fought against him but lacked the leverage to push him off of her.

“You could not send me to die, you ’ave already said zis.”

“Are you willing to bet your life?” he asked.

She hesitated but nodded.

“Fine,” he said. “Gabby, go wake Hermione, have her go to Dumbledore; I’ll need some place to be kept safe from the rest of the students until this Desmi is gone. Then go get Hedwig; I need to write a letter to the Veela council.” Gabby nodded and moved to climb out of the bed. Fleur’s eyes went wide.

“Wait!” she cried. “You cannot do zis!”

“Fleur,” he responded with a feigned exasperation, “You’ve made your choice. Don’t worry, it’ll all be over in a few days, I’m sure.”

“ Non !” she said. “’Ow can you be so cold?” The fight had gone completely out of her. She seemed resigned to her fate.

“Cold?” he asked sounding shocked. “Fleur, I gave you a choice. You either accept my demands and follow my instructions or it’s off to the Veela council with you.”

“Zat is no choice!” she exclaimed.

“It’s more of a choice than you gave me!” he yelled. She quailed beneath him. He turned to Gabby who had stopped at the edge of the bed. “Go do as I said. She’s made her choice.”

“ Non !” Fleur said, the desperation in her voice clearly evident. She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes as though in shame. “ D’accord, d’accord. I will do what you say.” Gabby stopped moving again. “I will do anyzing you ask of me.”

Harry moved off of Fleur and ordered her to sit cross-legged at the head of the bed. She was allowed to touch herself any way she wanted, but he reminded her she was not allowed to come. Harry then positioned himself over Gabby and, watching Fleur intently, slowly drove into her pussy. Harry was so worked up by this point that it was only a couple of minutes before he was spilling himself inside her, his eyes never leaving Fleur. The intense scrutiny was clearly having an effect on the older Veela as she was fingering her dripping folds furiously and moaning constantly.

Harry slowed his thrusting as he came but never stopped completely. Gabby was writhing beneath him, very close to her own release. Fleur, he noticed was panting and rubbing her clit and starting at Harry with glazed eyes.

“Don’t come,” he said, drawing her attention away from her twitching sex. Her hand stopped immediately and she bit her lip, looking frightened.

Harry felt a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he picked the pace of his thrusting back up. A few more seconds of hard pounding and Gabby threw her head back and cried out with a long “hughn” sound as he came on his cock. Fleur’s hand moved back between her legs seemingly of it’s own accord.

Twice more, Harry spilled himself inside his little sex toy, occasionally getting Fleur’s attention as she was on the edge of her orgasm. He had to admit, she seemed to be accepting her fate rather well as she genuinely appeared contrite and determined to follow his orders each time.

Finally, Harry stopped and pulled out of Gabby. He bent down and whispered a command in her ear and she hastened to obey, leaving Harry and Fleur alone.

“All right, Fleur,” Harry said with a malevolent grin. “Now it’s time to really test your willpower.” She looked nervous as she awaited his instructions. She somehow managed to look not only desperate to come, but desperate not to come as well. He checked the time; it was nearly 12:30. “I’m going to fuck you non-stop until 1:30 before I finally complete the bond.” Her eyes lit up at the prospect. “You are still not allowed to come, remember.” She nodded in unresisting acceptance.

He grabbed her legs and pulled her down onto her back and slid up her body. He took his still hard cock and found the entrance of her drenched womanhood. He was far from gentle as he quickly shoved himself inside her. She grunted and bit back a whimper of pain. Perhaps she was a virgin. Or perhaps she was just not used to cock. Or perhaps. . . He couldn’t really bring himself to care. He began with long, slow strokes in and out of her tight cunt. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him as though she were drowning and only he could save her.

After a few minutes of sex, she started when the curtain was thrown aside revealing Ginny standing naked with her hands clipped together behind her back and a lead attached to her collar with the other end in Gabby’s hand. Fleur took in the sight and groaned as her cunt twitched with excitement. Harry slapped her.

“What did I say about coming, bitch?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I did not come. It was close but I did not.”

“slut,” he said to Ginny, “get on the bed and put your head near my cock. For the next hour or so, you’re going to be drinking most of my come.” Gabby unclipped the girl’s hands and the lead and Ginny quickly did as ordered. Gabby climbed back in the bed and pulled the curtain closed again. She pulled Fleur’s arms from around her Master and positioned herself on her back on top of her sister with her cunt near his pistoning cock and her neck resting between the older girl’s breasts, telling Harry it was so he could pretend he was fucking her. Harry smiled at her and gave her a steamy kiss.

A few thrusts later and his cock twitched. He pulled out and shoved it into Ginny’s eagerly waiting mouth. As soon as he was spent, he pushed himself right back into Fleur and continued. Fleur, he noticed had busied herself fondling her own breasts. A smile twisted his lips as he knocked her hands away.

“Stop that,” he said. She looked at him with an expression that was half confused, half lust-addled. He took one of her hands and placed it on Gabby’s chest and looked at her expectantly. She picked up the message fairly quick and blushed a bit as she started caressing her younger sister’s chest. The sight of Fleur Delacour running her hands over her own sister’s chest made his already overused cock twitch inside her.

He reached down and found Gabby’s arousal-slicked folds and began teasing her. She moaned and writhed on her sister at the dual stimulation. She hunched her crotch up repeatedly, occasionally coming into contact with Harry’s abdomen. Her hands fisted in her hair as the sensation of three hands touching her so intimately along with the pleasure she felt through the bond from Harry drove her over the edge. She grabbed Harry around the neck and pulled him down into a scorching kiss.

He lost his balance and fell, sandwiching Gabby between him and her sister. He pulled his hand away from her pussy and moved it around to her arse, stroking and kneading the firm flesh as their tongues duelled furiously. They ignored Fleur’s complaints that the both of them together were too heavy for her. He kept thrusting away into the older girls spasming cunt as he imagined it was the younger of the two he was fucking.

“Shut up, bitch,” he snarled at Fleur as her complaints finally became too much to ignore. She clamped her mouth shut immediately.

For quite some time they went on this way, Harry finally giving Fleur a bit of a reprieve as he began supporting himself on his knees and one hand, whilst the other touched and teased and caressed Gabrielle in any way it could. Twice more he pulled out of Fleur and dumped his come into Ginny’s welcoming mouth.

Harry, feeling that Fleur wasn’t being humiliated enough, had Ginny move around and ordered the two girls to kiss. Ginny responded to the order straight away, of course, but Fleur was reluctant. Harry reached down and pinched the flesh of her hip and reminded her that she had no choice in the matter if she wanted to avoid the council. Fleur closed her eyes and did as she was told, kissing Harry’s sex slave and allowing the girl’s tongue in her mouth as she did the opposite. Harry, nearly exhausted but determined to continue, pulled his cock from Fleur’s cunt and spilled himself once again, this time in Gabby’s pussy. Gabby kissed him hard and came on his thrusting cock as he did so.

After a few more minutes, Harry had Fleur licking Ginny’s arsehole, much to her disgust and Ginny’s happiness.

“Master,” said Ginny who’d been fingering her own sex throughout most of the encounter, “may I come?”

“Make sure you come on her face,” he replied.

Her bond took the statement as permission and the third-year smeared her rushing fluids all over the blond girls mouth and nose. As soon as she came down from her climax, she returned her anal pucker to within reach of the Veela’s tongue. Fleur whimpered in disgust even as she licked and sucked at the girl’s sphincter.

Harry found himself growing tired so he decided to ramp up Fleur’s humiliation even further. Ginny was set to fondling the older girl’s breasts as Gabby was directed to lay on her back with her crotch near her sister’s head. Fleur was turned on her side and commanded to lick her sister’s cunt and bring her to orgasm. Harry meanwhile, continued thrusting away at the Veela’s overstimulated sex. He was truly impressed that she’d managed to prevent herself from coming this long as she’d clearly been on the verge countless times.

He watched in fascination as the 17-year-old worked diligently to bring her eight-year-old sister to climax with her mouth and tongue. It was certainly a unique experience even for Harry who had seen so much in the past five days. He was reminded once again of the fact that he had yet to taste his little sex toy’s cunt directly. He would have to remember to do that soon.

He reached down started teasing the older girl’s clit with his fingers, lubing them up with her copious fluids. She stopped licking her sister and looked up at him.

“Please, ’Arry,” she said piteously. “I am too close—”

“I didn’t tell you to stop licking,” he told her, cutting her pleading off. He could feel her cunt twitching around him and see her concentrate—even as she pleasured her little sister—on stopping herself coming. Harry could feel Gabby getting close and it was driving him closer as well. Perhaps it was the taboo of watching incest, perhaps it was the thrill of having his will forced on the older girl with her helpless to stop it. Whatever it was, he found the sight erotic.

“That’s right, bitch,” he said. “Lick your sister. Suck on her cunt. Taste her juices.”

Gabby was mewling and Harry was beginning to feel that tightening of his bollocks that signalled his impending release. Too late he realised that Ginny was too far away for him to spend himself in her mouth. He did the next best thing in his opinion: further humiliate Fleur. He pulled out of her at the last minute and moved up closer to Gabby. He stroked himself a couple of times and unloaded, aiming at the bitch’s face. His orgasm triggered Gabby’s and she cried out as it washed over her.

The first shot of his come landed in Fleur’s silver-blond hair. The second hit just above her left eye. The third arced through the air and landed perfectly on her tongue just as Gabby’s cunt convulsed in pleasure forcing a big glob of his sperm, which he’d deposited inside her earlier, to come squirting out of the young girl hitting the same spot. Fleur instinctively pulled her tongue back into her mouth and swallowed. Harry and Gabby’s climaxes finished running their course as a grey glow enveloped Fleur’s head, running down her body and then spreading to encompass both Harry and Gabrielle before dissipating.

Harry and Gabby looked at each other in shock.

“Did that just happen?” Gabby asked.

Harry had no answer. He watched as Fleur sat up on her knees and ducked her head submissively. Ginny continued to fondle the girl’s breasts having been given no other order. Harry told her to stop.

He reached for Fleur’s robes not knowing exactly what to expect. Surprisingly, nothing happened. Shocked, he held the robes out and Gabby reached to touch them as if to see if they were indeed still robes. The moment her fingers connected with them however, there was a flare of magic and several objects—a collar, a two metre long lead, a short length of chain, a leather riding crop and two leather objects that he couldn’t immediately identify—dropped to the bed. The unknown objects appeared to be simple leather rectangles with a leather lace threaded through holes running down either side and a metal clip on each end. Fleur made no move to put them on or even ask if she could. Nor did she make any move to retrieve her wand which had apparently been in her robes and now lay with the other items.

Harry picked up the collar and looked at it. It was similar to Gabby’s, Ginny’s and Hermione’s in that it was the same size and thickness. Where the medallion was on Gabby’s, however, there was merely a metal ring, obviously for the lead. Under the ring, hanging loosely from a small metal link was a metal tag—Harry reckoned it was iron—with a double “P” on it. He looked at Gabby and showed her the tag.

“I think she’s ours ,” he said.

“I think you’re right, Master,” Gabby said sounding stunned.

Gabby placed the collar on Fleur’s neck and then picked up the leather rectangles. After looking at them for a moment, she took one of Fleur’s hands and slid her arm into it, and then laced it up. It covered her entire forearm from elbow to wrist and, with the laces on the inside of her arm as they were, the clips ended up on the underside of her arm. Gabby repeated the process with the other piece. Harry wondered aloud what purpose they served and in seconds, Gabby had forced Fleur’s arms behind her back and had the clips locked together, one at the wrist, one at the elbow. Fleur’s arms were immobile and she was totally exposed and vulnerable. Harry found it hard to tear his eyes away from her.

“What kind of Desmi is it?” he asked. “Do you know?”

“I forget what it’s called and the details,” Gabby said. “We can ask Hermione in the morning, but I think she’s our. . . pet.”





And that’s chapter 11. Next up: There’s no use trying to hide it anymore. . .



So, the “Mystery Girl” in the cupboard. You all know who she is, right? Good. That way I don’t have to tell you.



See you all Saturday.



NOI