AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This was my 2015 HP 3Somes Fest (hp-3somes . livejournal . com) entry. This was a gift to LJ user "caranil", but she dropped out of the fest before it could be posted, so it's also a gift to the community as well. It's a multi-chaptered, completed fic.
My prompt for the fest was: "Incest (Weasleys preferred), Mild to moderate bdsm (orgasm control/denial, light bondage), dirty talking, caring for each-other even if it's not an actual relationship, A and B are in a relationship and they're trying to make C join them (for a one night stand) and they try to seduce him/her, the sex club trope."
Thank you so much to my beta, W. I enjoyed very much working with you for the first time, and am so appreciative of your suggestions and help!
Thanks to the Mod for hosting this fest again!
DISCLAIMER:"Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This fanfiction was written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended. The song, "Wicked Game" is copyright Chris Isaak/Warner Brothers. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
TIMELINE: Post-Hogwarts, EWE
CHARACTERS FEATURED: Bill x Ginny x Charlie
SUMMARY: Drawn to the forbidden by a power beyond her control, Ginny agrees to meet up with Bill and Charlie at Pandora's Box, the wizarding community's hottest adult night club—a place known to cater to the naughtiest taboos. There, she'll indulge in the wickedest sin imaginable. But can she walk away forever from such seductive pleasure when the night is over?
RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: Explicit M/F/M sex (incest, threesome - het & slash), Explicit profanity, Magical Being (Incubus & Werewolf), Angst-Angst-Angst, Happy Ending.
WICKED GAME
By: RZZMG
~.~.~
The world is on fire, and no one could save me but you...
~.~.~
.
Ginny,
Come to Pandora's Box
this Saturday, 11:00pm sharp.
Come alone.
~ B & C
.
~.~.~
It's strange what desire makes foolish people do...
~.~.~
Ginny leaned over the broad metal railing of the second floor landing to gaze down upon the crowd below, her eyes seeking the distinctive hair colour of her two eldest brothers in a sea of bottle blondes and boring brunettes.
Where were they? It was eleven o'clock on the dot. They had to be here somewhere,
She tapped her fingertips in time to the heavy industrial beat that echoed off the walls around her and let the heady scent of fiery booze and spicy perfume and zealous, sweaty flesh that permeated the air of the club wash over her, sink deep into her senses, and bolster her flagging spirits.
She would find them—she had to!
Two hours she'd already been here scanning the crowds and prowling through bodies on every floor of the multi-levelled club, but there had yet been no sign of either Bill or Charlie.
They'd be here, of that she was sure, as they'd been the ones to send her the note instructing her specifically to come tonight to this favourite BDSM playground of the wizarding world, Pandora's Box, so she was fairly confident that this wasn't just some jape. They would show. She just needed to be patient and vigilant, two virtues she wasn't sure she was capable of being just then, honestly.
As she continued scanning the faces all around, the pounding trance the DJ was spinning for tonight's first set matched the thudding of her heart, and made her particularly aware of her body's arousal. Between her thighs, she was already wet and slick, and worried others nearby might be able to scent how ready and desperate she was for cock.
Clenching her legs closer together and adjusting the angle of her hips, she attempted to alleviate some of the itchy, achy feeling, but only managed to make it worse. Now her clit pulsed with its own miniature heartbeat, and she could feel her nipples harden and abrade against the leather corset she wore.
With a disgusted sigh, she stepped away from the railing and resumed her restless stalking of the premises instead. She'd suffered an entire week hounded by this same relentless arousal, thanks to Charlie accidentally rubbing up against her on the tail end of his last public performance here, so a few more hours wouldn't kill her, surely. It might make her uncomfortable as hell, but she'd manage as she had the last seven days: spending some safe 'quality time' with a substitute (read: her hand and her toys) until the need was sated.
Buying an elevator ride down to the club's 'Checkered Basement' (so named not for its black and white marble square flooring, but for the 'checkered pasts' it created in those who visited it) to find a private room and a willing partner to sate the demonic need clawing its way through her would be a necessary evil if her two git brothers didn't show tonight. Of that fact she was resigned, because there was simply no way she could endure another night feeling like this, especially now that she had accidentally stumbled upon her eldest siblings' secrets, and had the fire of curiosity lit under her perky arse.
It still floored her to think about it: Charlie was an Incubus—the human male offspring of a pureblood female Veela and a pureblood male wizard. Of all the men in their direct family line, Charlie was the only one to have been blessed with Grandmum Weasley's unique (and quite secret) heritage, according to the notes she and Bill had been passing back and forth all week—hence the reason her second eldest sibling had yet to marry, and probably never would.
That he'd accidentally enslaved Bill to his lust a few years back, when they'd both gotten four sheets to the wind pissed and ended up shagging like little bunnies in the springtime, was a mind-fuck and a half, too. Poor Bill, addicted to Charlie's Incubus—hence the reason he'd divorced Fleur and had left their three children in her care.
The two self-professed bachelors had since gotten a flat together and surreptitiously taken up trolling the London scene, fucking everything on two legs, regardless of gender, seeking to sate the Incubus lust that continually rode them both. Everyone else in their circle of family and friends thought them simply taking a break from women and going through an early mid-life crisis.
Until last week, Ginny had believed that, too.
Now, she knew better.
As she rounded the corner, she found what she'd been seeking: that distinguishing shock of Weasley red hair among the crowd, there against the wall, opposite the elevator. As expected, and although they'd just arrived apparently, her eldest siblings were already surrounded by groupies fawning for their attention, hoping to be the lucky ones chosen to accompany the pair of striking, ginger-haired brothers downstairs to the basement tonight.
Ginny didn't question the jealous burning in her heart as she pushed through the crowd of sycophantic would-be lovers to approach her brothers. All she knew was that she had to reach them, had to make them touch her, claim her, take her to that place she wanted, no, needed to go with them: into the Checkered Basement.
She was desperate for them to fuck her, to drive her into a state of euphoric submission the likes of which she'd never before experienced.
It was Charlie's Incubus calling to her that was making her feel like this. It was a magnetic reel, pulling her in, pulling her under. It was so strong, so undeniable even though all they'd done was barely brush against each other that one night last week,
The heavy thump of the club bass vibrated the walls around her, drowning out the sharp crack of whips and moans coming from the exhibition stage around the next corner. The deep, sensual beat vibrated through Ginny's rib cage and ran up her spine, making her aware of her body in a way she'd never been before. It also drowned out her calls to her brothers, as she attempted to catch their attention with waving arms and catcalls without shouting their real names.
They didn't even turn in her direction. In fact, Bill had his attention firmly fixed a young man who was practically draped across him, and Charlie was giving that cunt-eating smile of his to a woman wearing a skirt so short it might as well be a belt.
No! She had to make them see her, recognise her, because she'd earlier colour-charmed her hair and eyes to disguise her features to prevent being spotted, just in case there was an undercover reporter or an errant co-worker in the mob tonight. Now that trick was working against her, because they didn't know that she was any different from the rest of the sexual panhandlers in the place, and any minute they'd go off with their random picks for the night, because they'd think she'd chickened out and didn't come, and she'd be left behind, up here among the rest of the rabble, left to suffer,
As if sensing her presence, Charlie looked up and over the crowd, finding her at that exact moment. When their eyes connected, his smile grew positively feral.
He elbowed Bill next to him and jerked his chin in her direction, and that tight, terrified knot in Ginny's chest suddenly relaxed.
They saw her, they knew her!
Lazily, they made their way through the pack of hangers-on, making a bee-line right for her.
She stretched out her hands...and suddenly she was in Charlie's arms, and Bill was pressing in behind her, and she wanted to sob with relief.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Author's Notes:
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