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Chapter 30: Family Feud
Family Feud
Harry let out a tired breath, still feeling yesterday's exhaustion, his reserves spent. The developments were still surprising, extraordinary even by the recent standards of his life. Both the mother and the daughter managed to impress him with the level of desire and kinkiness they had displayed, annihilating any kind of familial taboo without the blink of an eye. It had been one of the most erotic experiences of his life.
Which was partly why he was annoyed as he traversed the corridors of Hogwarts once more. He would prefer to lay in his bed, half-asleep while cuddling with Hermione. Instead, he was going to have a meeting with Theodore Nott. He half-hoped that it was a trap, which would give him an excuse to cut loose and blow some steam, but he didn't think it was likely. The request had been discreetly communicated by Daphne, who had no reason to cater to Nott's wishes and sharp enough to notice any trick Nott or Malfoy could come up with. Not to mention Nott had been thoroughly intimidated with his display with Malfoy, and wasn't stupid enough to push his chances.
His annoyance bled out slowly as he walked, replaced by curiosity as he finally entered the abandoned classroom designated as their meeting room. Nott was already inside, looking at Harry with a worried expression on his face, obvious despite his attempt to hide it. Harry built-up a thin layer of magic and sent it away in a circle, using it as a primitive sonar, making sure Nott was alone. Then, he sealed the door and reinforced it with a silencing charm and several strengthening charms just in case, all applied through an idle wave of his hand. Just because the likelihood of an ambush was low, it didn't mean Harry was going to skip the basic security measures. "So, Mr. Nott," Harry said, finally turning towards the boy who was trying act like he wasn't about to collapse into a nervous wreck. "How can I be of assistance?"
"I want to talk about your upcoming duel with Lord Nott," he said.
Harry was intrigued. "I fail to see why it's you that's delivering the duel notice. Is it some kind of obscure insult that I should take notice?" he said, letting a bit of anger bleed to his voice.
"No, not like that," Nott corrected, his hands flailing in panic. His genuine rush of fear in refuting the possibility of an insult made the situation even more intriguing. "I'm here for a different reason."
"I'm listening." Nott reached for his pocket robe, and Harry gathered a bit of magic just in case, but gave no outward indication of an alarm. When Nott pulled his hand from his pocket, he was holding a small bottle between his finger, filled with a familiar silvery liquid. "Memories?" Harry asked, intrigued.
"Several duels Lord Nott had been involved in, some of them private, all from my father's eyes," Nott said, managing to sound calm.
"Really," Harry said, unable to prevent a whiff of surprise from coloring his tone. What Nott was doing was in-house betrayal, the nearest you could come to killing him without actually sinking the dagger. Even if the memories were edited to be misleading, there would be a trove of helpful information he could extract. And if the memories were unedited… "Why?" Harry asked, not wanting to rely on assumptions about the reasons behind such a radical move.
"My uncle is not a nice man," Nott started. His voice was so thick with pain and hatred that Harry felt no need to ask for clarification. And growing with Vernon, he had no illusions about just how far family could sink. Still, the expectations of society from a middle-class manager had managed to blunt Vernon's worst excesses before Harry was old enough to push back, but the Magical world had no such societal restrictions. In most cases, families were black-boxes, the society never knowing no matter what happened inside. And the information Harry received from Amelia didn't paint Lord Nott as a nice man by any stretch of the word, even by the antiquated standards of Magical Britain. He was a dealer of dirty deeds, some of them even with enough evidence to find him guilty given a semi-decent court. Unfortunately, the Magical legal system wasn't something that could be described with a positive adjective, especially when a Pureblood Lord was involved. Theodore's tone was all Harry needed to ascertain Lord Nott hadn't even had the decency to keep his deviancies out of his family. "My father is the next heir of the family, and he would appreciate if Lord Nott wouldn't be in a condition to continue the Lordship of the family."
"I see," Harry said, his mind still busy with the implications of such an act. He nodded, and Nott sighed, though the tension was still visible in his body. Harry had an inkling about the conundrum. Nott was a witness to his casual display of power during the confrontation with Malfoy, and surmised he had a decent change against Lord Nott in the duel. More importantly, he had convinced his father about his chances of success enough for him to make a ploy for family Lordship.
Nott left the room, leaving him to ponder about the implications of the development. There were surprisingly little. Killing Lord Nott would remove one of the stronger Malfoy supporters, and unbalance others. Not to mention it will remove a long-term irritant. He wasn't naive enough to think that Lord Nott would accept a defeat in good graces, especially when delivered by someone junior to him by more than half a century. The only thing he needed to be careful was to allow Lord Nott to throw first explicitly deadly curse, or even a few of them before he responded in kind, to show the public that he was just defending himself. The last thing he needed was to get a reputation for being a bloodthirsty monster.
That was a tough day, Astoria thought as she walked towards her room, keen to get a bit of rest. She was completely spent. The lessons were hard enough, but the low key attention sent to her way by the Slytherins, combined with the naked hostility from some Gryffindors was wearing on her nerves.
Despite one might think, she wasn't unhappy with the level of fallout she was experiencing. Gryffindors reaction was pretty much what she had expected. They were just trying to punish her because she dared to make a move for their precious golden hero/mascot, conveniently forgetting the way they had turned their backs on him when he needed them. Though Astoria made a special point of never staying alone with Ginny Weasley, not trusting the angry looks she was sending her way.
It was the reactions of Slytherin students that surprised her. Even as the best case, she had expected to find herself at the bottom of the pecking order. Harsh bullying, obscure spells to destroy her possessions, even being ambushed in her own room, all were likely responses from her house after she had been finally kicked from the Greengrass family.
So, she was quite surprised when it wasn't the case. While the number of the people that were willing to interact with her on a daily basis had dropped significantly, it didn't escalate to a point of being a social pariah. More importantly, there had been no reprisals against the people that kept interacting with her, a very curious phenomenon. There had been no attacks, nor any attempts of bullying other than some derogatory statements made by Malfoy. And nobody cared about what Malfoy thought, not after his monumental defeat in the hands of Harry, finally ruining his reputation in a way that cannot be salvaged by throwing his father's name.
Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as soon as she opened her door. She had no roommate, and she protected her room with heavy duty wards, so it was reasonable to expect she would be alone. Which was why it was quite surprising to find Harry and her sister already in her room. But, more surprising part was their current state of dress. They were naked -or almost naked in her sister's case, wearing a pair of thigh highs, and a bra not covering her nipples, all in gold and crimson of Gryffindors. Her sister was on Astoria's bed, resting on her hands and knees, her tits dangling freely as Harry repeatedly pumped her puckered hole with his impressive cock. An interesting way to preserve her virginity, Astoria noted absentmindedly.
Astoria felt her mind freezing in shock. Which was convenient, because her body started to move her own like it was under a spell, closing the door behind her before pulling a chair and sitting down. No matter how much she tried, she failed to pull her eyes away from the hypnotic scene in front of her. Even worse, the small voice that was trying to convince her to leave the room was losing a sliver of strength with every clap of colliding flesh, removing any possibility of prematurely stopping the proceedings.
After all, it was just fair play, Astoria thought as her desire to get away quickly dwindled into nothingness. Daphne had watched her while she was with Harry, and it was only fair that she would do the same. With that, she left the tatters of the moral dilemma she had just concluded behind, and turned her full attention to Harry, who was busy stretching her sister's rear hole. Astoria licked her lips repeatedly in an attempt to moisten them, but her excitement proved stronger, and her lips stuck in a perpetual dryness despite her best effort, a complete reversal of her nether lips, drenched in arousal.
Still, Astoria was glad that neither Harry nor Daphne noticed her entrance, their eyes closed to maximize the pleasure. Thankfully, Daphne hadn't noticed her entrance, Astoria corrected herself as Harry opened his eyes, his emerald gaze suddenly pinning her in place. He winked before turning his attention back to Daphne, his utter lack of surprise showing he was aware all along. Astoria shrugged, and continued watching, enjoying the show. But she was quite curious about her sister's reaction when she finally realized Astoria was there for a while.
"Harry, yes, fuck me harder," Daphne shouted, her eyes still closed.
Harry leaned further even as he continued plowing Daphne. One of his arms wrapped around her torso just under her breasts. He wrapped her hair around his free hand, then leaned forward until his lips touched her earlobe. "Such a dirty mouth," he whispered. "Don't you have any shame, using such dirty language in front of your sister."
It took a second for Daphne to process what he just said. Her eyes jerked open, shock shining in their depths. Astoria felt satisfaction. The moment mirrored the time Daphne invaded their fun in the dressing room, so Astoria wasn't feeling particularly merciful. Daphne tried to pull away, but Harry showed no intention of loosening his grip, locking her in place as he continued plowing her. "Astoria, what are you doing here?" Daphne said, lowering her torso on the bed in an attempt to cover her torso. Not that it helped a lot, Astoria noticed. The change in position had given Astoria a better view of Harry's shaft as it repeatedly appeared and disappeared in her sister's behind.
Still, Astoria was unable to prevent a small snort escaping her lips in response to her ridiculous question. "What am I doing here? I didn't know I needed a permit to enter my own room."
Realization clicked in Daphne's eyes and Astoria realized that Daphne had long forgotten it was Astoria's room. And just like that, annoyance was back, mixed with a generous dose of jealousy. It was only Daphne's untimely appearance that prevented her date with Harry to last until she had forgotten her own name.
Revenge was in order, Astoria decided. "You forgot that, didn't you?" she said. She stood up, and walked towards her bed, sliding her robe off her body on the way. It was unfair to be the only person that was overdressed. She considered removing her skirt and blouse, but decided to keep them on for now. It was a rush when Harry ripped off her clothes, and she didn't think it would take a lot effort to make Harry commit to that particular set of activities. The look of appreciation he currently sported supported her assumption.
Of course, Daphne's panic as was at least equal to Harry's appreciation as Astoria walked closer. "Astoria, what are you doing?" she asked in a panicked tone. Or at least, Astoria assumed was panicked, because her constant moans were making it hard to identify.
"Why, my dear sister?" Astoria said. "Am I doing something wrong?" Daphne opened her mouth to answer, but Astoria pressed her finger to her lips, sealing the words inside. "I'm not doing anything you hadn't done before. Or did you forget your actions in the dressing room." She turned towards the other occupant of the room. "What do you think, Harry? Is my sister right? Should I leave until you finish?"
Harry just said one word. "Stay." That word proved enough to lock Astoria in her place, her gaze sliding towards his eyes. He kept her under his smoldering gaze, stripping her off her resistance. "Strip," he ordered, this time targeting her physical coverage. Normally, she would have resisted more, but the blooming panic in her sister's eyes was too delicious to miss.
"Astoria, what are you-" Daphne started saying, only to get silenced by Harry's hand, tugging her hair roughly. She fell silent. Astoria would have interjected, if it wasn't for the clear enjoyment in Daphne's eyes. Instead, Astoria watched in a mixture of amusement and bewilderment as she got rid of her clothes one by one. Her strong-willed, independent sister was being dominated thoroughly, and was loving the every second of it.
"Sit down in front of Daphne," another order came after Astoria got rid of the last piece of her clothing, one Astoria followed immediately. The shocked expression on Daphne's face was too delicious to do otherwise, though Harry's impish smile helped. It showed an understanding of the fact that Astoria followed his orders without a protest only to mess with her sister. Otherwise, she much preferred the last time, where she fought bite and nail for every skirmish.
Daphne opened her mouth to protest, but Harry silenced her with another tug before she could speak. "Why don't you attend to your sister, Daphne," he said. "After all, you owe her for using her bedroom without asking for permission." Astoria watched, bewildered, as no protest left her sister's lips. She took her place, just an inch away from Daphne's face, her slit glistening with an arousal much stronger than Astoria had ever thoughts it would be. Distracted by the reaction of her own body, Astoria paid little attention to Harry's action. Therefore, she was blindsided when Harry pushed Daphne's head down, her lips landing directly on Astoria's nether lips.
A shocked yelp escaped Astoria's mouth, too surprised to even think about pulling back. Even more surprisingly, no word of protest left Daphne's mouth as her tongue darted out and traced the boundaries of Astoria's slit, causing a shiver to pass through her body, her mind clogged by shock to make an outward movement. Daphne's tongue did another pass around the edge, circling around her clit for the good measure, adding another dimension to Astoria's surprise. The smoothness of Daphne's movements belied the fact that it wasn't the first time she was being acquainted with a female on female action. Astoria's eyes automatically found Harry's gaze in a questioning manner, and the smug grin she received in response had illuminated the issue. Apparently, Harry was somehow behind her sister's skill around female parts. Would surprises ever cease, Astoria thought with a snort. Or at least, with a sound that was supposed to be a snort, though it somehow managed to transform into a moan between her vocal cords and her lips. Astoria blamed Harry.
Then, Harry once again distracted her from her thoughts, this time by leaning forward, capturing her lips in a heated kiss, his hips still rhythmically beating Daphne's flesh as he rammed into her repeatedly. Their tongues wrapped around each other, continuing their struggle for dominance, one that had been interrupted during their previous tryst. Still, even the merciless assault of his lips wasn't enough to make her forget the fact that it was her sister's tongue that was massaging her most sensitive spots, awakening a level of sensuality that she wasn't aware she possessed.
The two-pronged assault proved too much for her, especially with all the unfair advantages they brought to the battle. Astoria's body short-circuited as a pleasure she never thought possible invaded every facet of her being. She pulled back in shock, the cries flowing out of her lips uncontrolled, limitless. It took a while for the flares in her field of vision to fade, and she realized she was somehow laying on her back. She closed her eyes, trying to gather her composure. Then, she felt a weight over her chest before she could do anything, and a pair of lips covered hers once more, a weird aroma invading her mouth.
Only after she had felt the familiar shaft of Harry pressing against her entrance she realized whose lips they were, and more importantly, what exactly was that taste. But once again, the shock and revulsion she supposed to feel were absent, their place had already been reserved by arousal instead. Her mouth opened by itself, her tongue battling with her sisters. She felt Harry sliding through her slit, earning a moan of her. Opportunist as always, Daphne wasted no time before pushing her tongue down into Astoria's mouth, shifting the location of the battle of dominance into Astoria's mouth. Meanwhile, she could feel Harry's fingers sinking to her bottom, mauling her soft flesh according to his desires. A minute later, Daphne decided to copy him, and her hands found Astoria's breasts, her fingers marring her pale breasts.
Astoria was systematically climbing towards her climax when the presence of Harry's cock disappeared without a warning, though Astoria hadn't needed to wonder where it went, Daphne's surprised, yet satisfied cry cluing her about its current destination. Not one to lose such an opportunity, she pushed her head forward and pressed her lips to Daphne's neck, biting and sucking in a delicious form of revenge. Though, her unopposed assault proved to be short-lived when Harry's cock appeared as sudden as it disappeared, pushing the entirety of its presence inside her tunnel in one push. The pleasured cries left her mouth unimpeded, and Daphne brought her lips against her neck in a reversal.
The scenario repeated itself several times, each echo stealing more of her cognitive functions, leaving her whole body strung with pleasure, welcoming the eventual climax with enthusiasm, despite its sharp intensity enough to break her consciousness for several seconds. She found herself wrapped from both sides as her consciousness returned. Harry was in front of her, his cock still sheathed inside her, teasing her with occasional short pushes. Daphne was behind her, her arms wrapped around Astoria's waist, her tits pressing against her back comfortingly. Astoria sighed in contentment.
"So, Harry, what brings you to my room," she asked after a few minutes filled nothing but deep breathing as they tried to recover. "Not that I'm unhappy with the surprise, of course."
"Of course," Harry said with a soft snort against her stating the obvious. "Actually, I decided to visit you and Daphne to inform you about the latest developments in our little scheme. I have visited Amelia, and she is cautiously interested in our schoolyard coup."
"Amelia?" Astoria asked, unable to filter the surprise coloring her tone. "Don't tell me you are trying to seduce the second most intimidating woman on this side of the pond."
"What if I was?" Harry answered, the cocky smile that Astoria only saw while he was playing Quidditch before this year. One that was becoming almost a permanent fixture of his face lately, though Astoria had to admit, he had more right than anyone else to be cocky. Not to mention a careful dose of self-confidence did wonders for his attractiveness. "Maybe you are interested in having a bet about it?"
"Bring it on," Astoria said, jumping on the opportunity. "If I win, you are mine from dusk till dawn for a whole night, doing my every command."
"Daring," Harry replied. "I like it. I want the same in response, but you will be under command of a surprise person. I have a lady friend that might be interested in such an arrangement. Of course, I don't need to tell you that I intend to be there for the entirety of the bet."
"Deal," Astoria said, not really caring about the forfeit condition. While Harry was quite attractive, there was a reason Amelia Bones was known as the iron maiden in certain circles, not that anyone was brave enough to tell that against her face. Astoria felt a bit bad about the harsh rejection Harry was going to receive, but she shrugged. It was him that initiated the bet after all. "So, tell me about the details of your discussion," Astoria continued, half of her mind already busy with the plays she was going to force Harry after his forfeit. It was going to be so much fun…
Chapter 31: Home Invasion
Home Invasion
It was almost midnight, and Narcissa had just entered her bedroom to get a bit of sleep when she felt the menacing presence of a hand, pressing hard on her mouth, cutting off an instinctual scream that was building in her lungs. "Hello, Cissy," a voice whispered into her ear.
The voice was familiar, but with the grasp of fear painfully tight around her heart, her brain frayed for a moment, the answer avoiding her reach. Meanwhile, the other hand of her apprehender slid on her torso until it reached her breasts and sank into its soft flesh, the flimsy texture of her nightie proving to be insufficient to prevent the assault of the intruder. At that point, the panic and fear should have invaded her soul until she was a wreck unable to think, but instead, she felt a surprising mixture of enthusiasm and arousal to spread her body. It was that rush of pleasure, more than anything else, that allowed her to identify her assailant. Only one man caused her to feel that way, only one man had taught her what a mind-numbing pleasure was like. She stopped struggling and let her body relax, her back comfortably resting against his chest, enjoying the way his chest muscles rippled. And the determined effort of his hand as it tried to wear out the fabric of her nightwear was yet another dimension of pleasure.
Then, the hand he was using to silence her changed its position. First, it slid to her cheek, leaving the softest touch she had ever felt, its aftermath burning. Then, it slid back to her neck, strong enough break it with the slightest twist, sending a new set of shivers along her body, her own powerlessness delicious. Then, he traced his hands downward caressing her spine on the way, leaving a perfect tingling sensation behind. "Welcome, my Lord," Narcissa whispered.
Harry said nothing for a moment, busy with his self-appointed task of massaging her body, his hands massaging her bottom cheeks, cupping and pulling. Narcissa wanted to scold him for sneaking into her bedroom in the middle of the night, but she had a feeling her own body would never forgive her for interrupting the attention it was receiving. So, she continued standing still, enjoying the touch of his nimble fingers as they explored her hips.
Still, even the rising wave of pleasure wasn't enough to make her forget one very important fact. He had sneaked inside the building without wards ever registering his presence. The method he employed to do so was a mystery to her. Even if she was currently staying in one of the vacation properties and not in the actual Malfoy manor, therefore wasn't under the protection of the truly fearsome ancient wards, the ones that shielded the vacation home were still comprehensive and well-made. After all, Malfoy's wasn't a family that could afford to skimp on the money when it came to protection, not with the number of enemies they collected along the way of their ascension. It was a Herculean feat to be able to penetrate such wards, well above the ability of the normal people. Destroying them in a night would be impressive enough, even for a team of experts, but sneaking inside without triggering any of them was an achievement Narcissa never heard before.
However, Narcissa opted out of asking the questions relating the magical details of his achievement, not wanting to interrupt the excruciatingly beautiful attention she was suffering under. Minutes flowed silently, his hands doing a significant progress in their self-appointed mission of destroying her negligee through sheer friction. At least, that was what she assumed, his fingers were leaving burning tracks on the parts of skin they visited, after all, and it was hard to imagine how a flimsy fabric could resist the passion behind them. She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the feast of sensation.
"So," he whispered into her ear after a long while later, at a point where Narcissa started to struggle under an impending climax. "Which dirty secrets you are going to sing to me today?"
Listening to his suggestive tone, a shiver went through her body, hijacking her thoughts. With her mind busy with the emotions awakened by it, a bunch of words left her mouth without any oversight. "You need to torture them out of me," the words formed in the air before dissipating, allowing a feeling of shock to dominate the room.
Harry stilled a moment, blindsided by her statement. Narcissa didn't blame him, after all, her surprise was probably greater. A feeling of apprehension invaded her body, which was as expected, but the wave of anticipation that rose as the answer left her lips was not. But, after a moment of puzzlement, she realized that those words displayed her true feelings. She had been longing for his firm hand, taking control like he did during their previous encounter, to play with her like she was just a toy.
He must have understood her feelings, because he leaned even further, his teeth scraping her earlobe. "Really?" he whispered throatily. The question wasn't an empty one. It was the only barrier that stood between her and a mind breaking mixture of pleasure and pain, applied until she lay broken on her bed. Still, there was no delay between the question and her answer. Her head moved up and down in approval. "The safe word is Mermaid," Harry whispered with his throaty, sensual tone one last time, then Narcissa felt his previously gentle hands twisting into a hard grip, pushing her harshly. She found herself in her bed, face buried in the pillow after a short fall. She turned to face him…
Only for her throat to constrict in panic. It was a different man that stood in front her. Gone was the self-confident, roguish young man, replaced by a cold-blooded war mage, able to inflict the most horrendous torture with just a flick. Even the absence of a wand, something that would remove any intimidation factor in normal circumstances, made him more terrifying. Ares stood above her, deeming to step out of his legend just for her interrogation, ready to deliver the most devastating punishment with the slightest hint of resistance. Narcissa just watched, her worldly concerns, such as breathing, losing their importance as she tried to prevent her collapse against the wall of pressure rising in her heart, leaving no space to anything else.
And then, he loosened his control over his magic. Something enveloped her, her breathing cut like she was submerged underwater, the pressure thick enough to prevent her from moving. She could feel her willpower crumbling like a gingerbread house despite knowing there was no real malice behind his suffocating presence. Just as she was about to utter the safe word, the weight of magic would be cut as sudden as its arrival. Able to breathe once more, Narcissa's chest rose and fell repeatedly, trying to ready herself for the next wave.
"You know what I'm asking for," he spoke once more, his voice sharp, steely.
"I won't," Narcissa managed to say, doing her best to make the words audible, only to reach a voice slightly above a whisper.
"So be it," Harry said in a frosty tone, his tone sharp enough to fill her heart with chill despite knowing it was just a role. "I didn't want to rely on the physical torture, but you leave me no choice," he continued, his tone heating even further with each sentence, setting Narcissa's heart aflame along with it. He raised his fist, then squeezed, and four thick silver chain wrapped around her extremities, their material further highlighting the power differential between him and her. She wasn't able to pay too much time thinking about its implications though, because her bed rose to a vertical position with his next motion, her position changing along with it.
"This is your last chance," he said. "Still not going to talk?" Narcissa shook her head, not wanting to cut things short just as they were getting pleasurable. He raised his hand once more, and a blade appeared on his hand. It was not a simple instrument, Narcissa noted in fascination. Pure silver, long blade, covered with stylized lions, as well as a pair of large rubies on the handle. She could feel the chill spreading from it, especially when he brought it near her skin. Her breathing stopped as he brought it towards her neck, just a hair breadth's away from her skin, the safe word rising towards her lips, but thankfully she had enough presence of mind to stop it from leaving her mouth.
He sent a smirk towards her, its fire only matched by the chill of his blade. He dragged the blade down, the fabric of her negligee falling apart as it came to contact with the edge of his blade. Soon, she was naked, wrapped in chains, hanging helplessly on her bedroom wall. And she was more aroused than she had ever been in her life, her juices flowing unrestricted after her panties met with the edge of his blade, pooling around her feet alongside her negligee. Then, he pressed the blunt side of the blade on her shoulder, dragging down through the length of her torso, leaving a chilled track behind. Narcissa shivered.
"Still resisting? Impressive," her interrogator whispered. "I see that I need to step up my game to break you." He raised his blade towards her shoulder. The safe word was on her lips once more, afraid that he was about to use the other side of the blade, but they stayed unsaid as he pressed the blunt side of the blade once more, and started dragging down, mirroring his earlier movement. For a moment, Narcissa stood confused, trying to understand what was different. Then, he leaned and pressed his lips to the first point his knife touched, his burning lips in a perfect contrast with the frost that was left behind. She shivered once more, but this time, it was nothing to do with the temperature. "You resisted the fear. Let's see how well you can resist the pleasure."
Despite her best effort to stay silent, a helpless, needy moan slip through her lips. He glanced into her eyes, then turned his attention back to her skin, tracing the icy track with his fiery lips. She managed to repress further reactions from her body, at least the more flashy ones. Nothing she could do was able to prevent the anticipatory tremble that wrapped her body, intensifying with every mark his lips left on her. But even that only lasted until he brought his blade against her skin once more, this time drawing a circle on the sensitive skin around her nipple. The sudden bite of cold, followed by his flames, was impossible to bear for her. Her voice sprung free, breaking the tenuous control she managed to exert.
Overwhelmed by the pleasure, she barely noticed when he vanished the knife he was holding and focused over her body with both hands, roaming her body freely in lieu of his lips, which was stuck on her breasts, teasing her nipples with uneven beats, her lack of success in anticipation only making the feeling more intense. It certainly didn't help when his fingers passed over her nether lips with a soft touch, but not spending any time over it before sliding to her inner thighs. She wanted to beg for him to ravage her without a mercy, to drown her in pleasure, but the role she was playing held her back. She was supposed to be a victim of his mercy, after all.
However, remembering that particular fact was getting harder and harder as the pressure of his hands increased further, the itching on her skin getting overwhelming along with it. The occasional flare of pain from her nipple when his teeth suddenly clamped around wasn't making her resistance any easier. "I fail to see why are you still resisting?" he said, before rising further and stealing another kiss from her neck, one that turned into a bite halfway. "Won't it be better if you told me what I wanted, so that I can stop your torture?" Narcissa agreed with his sentiment. She wanted to whisper the safe word, to free him to unleash the intense wave of pleasure that captured her the last time. But the shine in his eyes held her back. "So be it," he said, his tone sending a fresh wave of shivers over her skin. "It seems that I need to resort to harsher methods."
Narcissa watched with great interest as his hands reached the belt of his pants, unlocking it with one smooth motion. He pushed his pants down to his ankles, his shirt falling next to it a second later, leaving him only in his boxers as he stepped out of the clothes pile. She did her best to keep to her role, but it was hard with the wave of anticipation arousing as she watched his throbbing manhood laid bare to her gaze. "You cannot," she managed to say in an attempt to maintain her role, but she was aware that occasional intelligible words she managed to form between gasps and deep breaths were hardly convincing.
His response, however, was extremely convincing. He walked towards her until their faces were almost touching, then whispered, menace dripping from his every word. "Oh, I will. You resisted too much, and lost any chance of respite. You are at my mercy now." He interrupted his speech with a deep breath even as he leaned to her ear. "And let me give you a secret," he whispered. "I'm not feeling particularly merciful."
Distracted by her own shivers, Narcissa caught flatfooted when he pushed himself inside her roughly, forcing his full length inside her in one movement. A pained cry left her mouth, one that was disregarded by Harry as he pulled back, only to push again before even her cry winded down. Not that Narcissa was complaining though, as the pain was nothing compared to the frustration that held her under its yoke. He continued pushing, each adding another dose of pleasure to the mixture. Soon, the pain was a faded memory in the sea of pleasure Narcissa was swimming.
Meanwhile, his hands and mouth were busy with her body. His lips took a position around her neck, their persistent assault occasionally supported by his teeth. His hands roamed across her body unrestricted, paying attention to her every sensitive location, even discovering a few that Narcissa wasn't aware of their existence. The passion covered her body, imprisoned under her skin with no valve to steam, obscuring the reality, replacing with a twisted fairy tale instead.
She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist, imprisoning him inside, lending him strength as he rammed into her repeatedly. But the chains that pinned her legs immobile prevented any such action from her part, forcing her to stay as a passive receiver. A role she happily fulfilled regardless, his assault on her body drowning her in a level of pleasure that she never thought possible.
The climax that hit her was sudden, blanking her mind of all her thoughts, frazzling her awareness. She was barely aware as the chains around her ankles disappeared, and the ones around her wrists started moving, forcing her arms to meet at her back, the bed twisting once more to become horizontal. She found herself lying on the bed, her face buried in a pillow, her bottom raised in preparation, when her consciousness resumed its full function. Before she could say anything, Harry pushed inside her once more.
That was the wrong hole, Narcissa wanted to shout, but a spank to her bottom told her that her objection was understood and rejected. After all, with the position she was currently holding, it was quite hard to mistake the two entrance, which meant his presence was intentional, and considering the ease he was able to put, he had already prepared her without her realization. Of course, even with the preparation, it wasn't exactly painless. Not that she minded, of course.
She tried to raise her head, only for a hand to wrap around her hair, forcibly burying her head back on the pillow, the loud sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing off the walls. "I'll tell the secrets you want," Narcissa exclaimed, only to panic a second later. What if he took her words at face value and stopped the attention she was receiving.
"It's too late for that," he whispered into her ear, putting her fears to the rest. "You dared to defy my words, do you think I will let you off the hook just because you lost your ability to resist." All the while, his assault on her tight hole continued without a sign of abating, every push pushing him deeper inside.
"Mercy," she murmured, only for his hand to reach her nipple, twisting it mercilessly. It was too overwhelming for her. An earthquake took her under its control, shaking her relentlessly.
His pace didn't even slow down, continuously drilling her even she pushed towards unconsciousness. He grabbed her arms that were bound behind her, and pulled hard enough force her torso to rise, pain reverberating through her body, chasing away the sleepy haze. "Did you think I would let you fall unconscious, slut!"
Narcissa just lay, saying nothing, enjoying the moment. She could get used to this kind of punishments, she realized even as she was being forced under yet another wave of sensations, about to drown in pleasure...
Chapter 32: A Rough Day
A Rough Day
Amelia Bones was furious.
The day had started with yet another case, open and shut. One of the cadet members of the Carrow family had attacked to a shopkeeper because she dared to not to sell a bottle of firewhisky on credit, as they were yet to pay two hundred galleons of debt that had been accumulated. And Carrow took rejection by a muggleborn as an insult, and attacked her viciously. It wasn't just schoolyard jinxes or stunners either. Only the emergency service of St. Mungo had saved her life, but she would forever carry a nasty scar on her left arm, courtesy of the dark selection of spell by Carrow.
Amelia was furious enough to push for a stay in the Azkaban. After all, with the evidence that solid, even the bigoted Wizengamot would have no choice but to send him to dementors for a few months at least. But then, Fudge and Umbridge happened. That sniveling coward dared to use his executive powers to grant a pardon to Carrow. And when Amelia had gone to hospital to talk to victim, to get her collaboration before bringing the case to Wizengamot regardless, only to learn she had decided not to push any charges for a 'misunderstanding'. She had cried inconsolably during the talk, but had been adamant in not pursuing any further legal action. After a brief talk with hospital employees, Amelia had learned there had been a visitor when she was talking with Fudge. Umbridge.
Amelia tried to reach for another case, but her hands, trembling with rage, was unable to pick it up without toppling her quill holder. She opened the file with an annoyed huff and tried to read the report, but she failed to concentrate, anger destroying her ability to focus. She glanced towards the ornate clock hanging on the wall. There was still two hours until the work day was over. Still, after five more minutes filled with looking at the papers with glassy eyes, she decided to take rest of the day off, one of the benefits of being the department head. She scribbled a note on the paper and sent it to her secretary, disappeared in a noisy crack.
She apparated directly in front of her liqueur cabinet. It would be good to relax with a glass of whiskey before Susan and Harry arrived for another dueling lesson. After a brief consideration, she decided to go with a muggle variety instead of firewhisky, and filled her glass with a select vintage of single malt.
Around twenty minutes, and four glasses later, she was still sitting on the living room when she heard a cry from upstairs. Her inner auror forced her to jump, her wand already in her wand. She was already halfway the stairs when she remembered the events of the last time, where she had found herself in a scene she shouldn't supposed to see. Another cry rose from the direction where Susan's bedroom was, and this time, she was easily able to detect the undertones of pleasure.
With the mystery of the cry solved, Amelia decided to return to the living room. Which was why she was quite surprised when her legs decided to ignore her orders and dragged her towards Susan's bedroom, the sound of pleasure filled cries getting louder with each step. A part of her tried to resist, but it was buried by the insistence of her enthusiastic, and slightly buzzed, aspects. Just want to make sure Susan was okay, she rationalized to herself. It was a weak excuse, she knew, but she sticked with it regardless, and found herself in front of Susan's bedroom. The door was half open, which was the reason why she was able to hear their noises. She leaned towards the opening, and looked inside.
At first, she didn't notice anything out of order. A figure she easily identified as Harry was pressing a female on the wall, repeatedly ramming from behind much to her pleasure. Still, something was wrong, Amelia noticed, but it took a couple of seconds for her to place it. The female had chestnut colored hair! Amelia felt her anger spike. How could he dare to cheat her precious niece, especially under Amelia's roof, in Susan's own room. She reached for her wand, a spell to punish him in her lips, when she heard a familiar voice from behind.
"Hi auntie, I didn't know you will be early," said Susan.
Amelia turned in surprise, her wand slipping out of her fingers in a rare display of clumsiness. Still, she was unable to reach for her wand, pinned in place by her niece's gaze. "Hi, Susan," she managed to stammer. "Bad day at work."
"Sorry to hear that auntie," Susan said in a candid tone, then reached and patted her shoulder consolingly. However, during her movement, Amelia noticed Susan's current attire. There was a short towel wrapped around her, which was barely able to contain her large bosom, and the bottom was barely able to cover her womanhood. It slid up as she reached towards Amelia's shoulder, revealing her womanhood to Amelia's eyes. Amelia felt an intense blush rushing to her skin as she managed to mumble a few words of appreciation. "Anyway, I need to go inside. I have some punishment to deliver. They were not supposed to begin yet, it's still my turn." With that, Susan walked in her room, closing the door behind. "Harry!" Amelia heard Susan shouting inside. "You were supposed to wait for me."
"Sorry," Harry answered in a tone Amelia rated the most insincere apology she had ever heard. "But you know how Hannah can be when she gets horny."
"Sorry-" Hannah started, only to get interrupted in the middle of her sentence with a sharp moan. "Sorry Susie, but you were taking too much in the bathroom."
"You deserve a punishment for trying to hog my turn," Susan said. "Doesn't she, Harry?"
"She definitely does," Harry answered, and a cracking sound of a spank echoed in the room, followed by a cry from Hannah.
"Harry, it hurts," Hannah said, but her tone didn't carry slightest indication of being against it.
"Good," Susan said. "It doesn't work as a punishment if it doesn't hurt." Her statement was followed by another spank, its sound quite different from the one before. Somehow, Amelia was sure that her niece was responsible for it. She stood still in front of the closed door, trying to combat the revelation that her niece was currently in a threesome, and more importantly, hadn't even blinked by Amelia's awareness of the fact.
A sad chuckle escaped her mouth as she realized the weirdness of the situation. Even when she was a student, she had little experience in sexual matters. She was dedicated to became an auror like her father, which gave her a harsh, intimidating demeanor. A trait that was forged harsher by the war after losing most of her family and friends. She had became the head auror during the war in a very young age, solely because all other candidates were dead. Then, the war ended, and she found herself as the Head of Magical Law Enforcement after Crouch's disgrace. And with her days filled with the struggle to uphold the laws against a corrupt government, dating opportunities were nonexistent.
Amelia shook her head, noticing she was standing in front of the door for minutes, the moans of the teenagers echoing in her ears. Moans louder than she had ever let out in her life, each of them filled with more passion than she had ever experienced in her life. Still, she would have walked away, but she noticed a thin ray of light coming from the door, signifying the door wasn't properly closed. A little glance wouldn't hurt, Amelia reasoned as she sneaked towards the door, and gave a soft push, widening the gap enough to catch a view of what was going inside.
The view she met inside was shockingly arousing. Hannah was lying on her back with Harry stationed on her lower end, sliding his shaft into her asshole. Meanwhile, Susan was hovering above Hannah's mouth, receiving an enthusiastic service from her tongue. A wave of spark passed through Amelia's body as she continue watching for more than a minute. She felt the start of a tingling in her lower regions, tugging needly. She was so tempted to slide her hand under her robe and pleasure herself. The temptation was stronger than any other times in her memories, but still, the shame was stronger. The thought of being caught by her niece while she was peeking her having sex was too shameful to even imagine, yet alone experiencing.
A solution popped into her mind. A warm bath, where she would be freely able to attend her needs suddenly looked very attractive. She leaned forward and looked inside one last time, doing her best to sear the scene into her memory, then dashed towards the bathroom. She pushed the door close haphazardly as she passed through the doorway, already halfway removing her robe. A wave of her wand made sure the tube was filled with comfortably warm water. Then, she completed the task of undressing with as much urgency as she could manage. She found herself in front of the mirror, completely naked. She was unable to fight back against the temptation of caressing her huge breasts.
She placed her hands over her pale skin, adorned by occasional freckle. A low growl escaped her mouth as her fingers sank into her plump flesh. Just a minute of self attention was enough to bring her to an overcharged state, generously assisted by the previous imagery she had observed. At times like that, she was very glad to have hypersensitive breasts.
For a moment, she considered skipping the bath, and playing with herself until the climax hit, but the embrace of the warm water was too strong as a temptation to deny. So, she reluctantly pulled her hands away from her breasts and held the edges of her tub instead, sliding herself into the warm cocoon of the water. She gasped as the comfort wrapped around her. For minutes, she just lay inside the water, letting the stress to flow away from her skin. Then, the stirrings of her arousal rose once more, demanding for her hands to be put in a better use. She complied eagerly, arching her back as her body was ravaged by her own hands, her tits peaking through the bubbles.
Her activities had been suddenly cut by the door being pushed open, stationary knob reminding Amelia that she had forgotten to properly close the door in her hurry. Caught flatfooted, it took a second for her to dive deep into the water, which meant Harry had got an eyeful view of her breasts. Amelia buried herself just below her nose, her face burning crimson, glad that she hadn't skimped on the bubbles. Without their cover, she had been displaying much more of her body. She stayed silent, waiting for Harry to go away. Instead, "Hi, Amelia," he said, and walked inside the room, just a towel wrapped around his waist. Quite an inadequate one, Amelia thought in the back of her mind, barely able to contain his impressively sized shaft, even in its half erect state.
Then, electricity sparked in the rest of her brain, giving back the control of her tongue. "Harry, what are you doing here?"
"Showering," he said as he walked towards the shower.
Amelia tried to answer, but the workings of her mind had another pause as Harry slid off the towel. An ass like that should be illegal, Amelia thought, finding herself unable to do anything as the water slid over his body, creating fascinating patterns as they followed the contours of his well-developed muscles. She licked her lips, watching him as he got rid of the sweat that had been accumulated during his previous carnal activities. She knew she should send him away, or at least turn her head. A task that was impossible to complete.
So, she watched silently as he finished his shower, a part of her indignant by the fact that he didn't even have the courtesy to have a full erection. Then he completed his shower and walked out of the glass cubicle, his body deliciously moist. Amelia knew she should be relaxed that he was about to walk out, but she felt disappointment that the show was over. That, and she hadn't had the courage to secretly caress herself under the bubbles while the show lasted.
Distracted by her thoughts, she realized too late that Harry's destination didn't direct him towards the door. As a consequence, she was quite surprised when she noticed Harry on the edge of the tub, sliding one foot inside the water. "Harry, go away, this is very inappropriate," Amelia said.
"Really?" Harry said as he put his other foot in the water. "Like someone peeking inside while I was together with Susan and Hannah would be, or less?"
A spark of shock born in her heart on the realization that she hadn't been as discreet as she hoped. "I just glanced to make sure Susan was okay," Amelia stammered, hoping to cover her action in a guise of concern.
"I see. You were just concerned, so you just peeked inside for almost fifteen minutes. Perfectly understandable." A smug smirk was spreading wider with his every sentence. He finished lowering himself in the water during the explanation, his feet occasionally touching on the sides of her hips despite him keeping them slightly pulled. The tub was big enough to easily house two people, but not big enough to avoid being intimate. Amelia found herself robbed of her words. She waited silently as she tried to decide which was less embarrassing, staying in this intimate position while she was under the cover of the bubbles, or standing up and giving him a full glimpse of her body.
Once again, the choice was taken off her. She felt Harry's hands wrapping around her feet. Without asking for permission, he pulled her foot out of the water, still holding it with both hands. "What are you doing?" Amelia asked in panic.
"Foot massage," Harry said with a matter-of-fact tone. "Since you are kind enough to share this comfortable bath with me, I need to do something in return." Amelia was about to say it was not needed when his thumb pressed on the sole of her feet, drawing a small circle, while his other thumb rubbed the side. It felt good enough to force her to retract her statement. She just sat, buried in the bubbles, her blush discovering new tones of crimson, as his fingers discovered the nerves she was unaware of their existence, each of them flaring into life with a satisfying tingling.
Her arousal, getting stronger by each passing second, was hardly a surprise, but its inevitability did little to help her contain her voice. She had long lost control of the situation, but she rejected to mewl like a newborn kitty under his hands, especially when he did nothing but massaging her feet. It was easier in theory, Amelia thought as she bit her lips to keep her moans nonexistent. In practice, it was about to become downright impossible in short order. Something Harry was aware of, if his smirk was any indicator.
Soon, resistance became too hard to bear, and she decided to surrender. And since she had surrendered, she decided the opportunity to cheat a little, and sneaked her hand near her folds, even her initial touches enough to send a jolt of pleasure across her body. She rubbed herself slowly, doing her best to keep her shoulder stable. Harry gave no sign of realizing what was going underwater, though Amelia had doubts whether this was the case. Still, she appreciated his lack of comment. Otherwise, the shame would be too hard to bear.
Amelia was about to reach a climax the door was pushed open once more, and Hannah appeared on the doorway, wearing a pair or thigh-high fishnets, and nothing more. She was already speaking when she entered the room. "Hey Harry, you are late. You promised to show me that trick with ice and silk scarves…" Then, she noticed where Harry was sitting, and who was sitting with him. Her blush quickly climbed to match Amelia's tone. "Sorry, Aunt Amelia," she squawked. "I didn't know you were here."
Amelia buried herself into the water once more, a part of her mind wondering just how things devolved into this shameful affair. Not only she had been caught by her niece while she was peeking her niece's best friend having sex with her boyfriend and caught by her boyfriend while her niece, her best friend and her boyfriend were having a steamy threesome, but now, she was caught by the said best friend, who called her aunt since she was six years old, while receiving a foot massage from her niece's boyfriend. The fact that both of them were naked and currently in a bath didn't make things any easier. The only consolation she had was the fact that her hand was hidden thanks to the thick layer of bubble.
"Coming right up," he said and stood up. Amelia got an eyeful of his cock, a part of her oddly proud of the fact that he was in full mast. "Sorry Amelia, but I promised her. We will meet in the training room in half an hour-" he said, only to cut by Hannah cleaning her throat. "In an hour," he corrected, and before stepped out of the shower. He didn't bother reaching for a towel, just negligently waved his hand and he was dry completely. Then, they walked out, sound of a spank rang in the corridor, followed by a feminine moan Amelia easily identified as Hannah.
Amelia buried herself in the bath, taking consolation with the fact that her blushing body was out of sight