The Best Little Whorehouse In Scotland
Round Robin, featuring: Maria Lynette, angelique21, Brandy01, Blueskyshymoon08, Clichex, and E Mitchell
Chapter 1: Anarchy In The U.K.
Occupying the former Gryffindor Tower of Hogwarts Castle was a decadent bedroom suite decorated in red velvet and black satin. The ever-present smells of cheap cigars and expensive perfume mingled with the aroma of recent sex.
Laying flat on her back, the wicked witch stared at her own dolled-up reflection, as the dark wizard above her repeatedly slammed into her notorious pussy. The mirrors on the ceiling had been her idea. She had them hung across every square meter of the castle's popular dungeon harem, and she commissioned a large round one to match the shape and size of her bed.
Spying on her men via the mirror was her way of maintaining control over them. She appeared aloof at all times, causing most of her clients to spend many jaw numbing hours trying to gain the attention of a witch who was already obsessed with them. She worked hard to keep her spot at the top, and she threw all of the house's undesirable patrons to the other girls. She only invited the best cock into her boudoir, and his magnificent member was the kind that could make a girl change her religion.
He withdrew from her pink sex bud for just long enough to roll her over and force her onto her pretty hands and knees. He rubbed the head of his throbbing man meat against her back door. Her body stiffened in anticipation of his intrusion, but he was only teasing her. Laughing quietly at her response, he moved his cock lower and plunged it back into her dripping entrance.
As he pounded into her with all of the strength and passion of a sex god, she screamed in pleasure and pain while clawing holes into her satin sheets. In her bed was the only place where he ever showed any emotion at all. That fact alone always wet her knickers as soon as he entered her bedroom, but she became completely intoxicated with lust as soon as he was buried balls deep in her pulsating pussy and giving it to her hard and fast.
He wasn't on the bed with her. He was standing at the edge of her mattress with a tight grip on her voluptuous hips while he delivered her pleasure. A deep moan signaled her impending release, as her inner walls embraced his cock even tighter than before. He couldn't hold back his own orgasm any longer, so he withdrew his weeping flesh wand from her pussy and cast his magic spell all over her back.
For a brief moment, they remained in position while catching their breath and enjoying the afterglow of orgasm. She tried to crawl away, but his grip on her tightened, and she dared not struggle. Without warning, the wizard at her rear licked her from clit to anus, thus lapping up all of their mingling juices. The wet and warm sensation sent chills down her spine, and his hungry moaning sent tantalizing vibrations through her core. With his thumb in her puckered hole, he continued massaging her nether lips with his tongue while thrusting his fingers into her wet canal.
A second orgasm claimed her smoldering body, and she stood frozen in shock on all fours while trying to recover from it. Her lover gently brushed a damp cloth across her backside in order to remove cum that was starting to harden on her smooth skin, and she hummed her satisfaction at having a man wash her dirty body.
After collapsing onto the bed, she rolled over on her back just in time to catch a mirrored glimpse of the man's ivory scar-marked skin while he donned his black cashmere robes. Gods, he was beautiful, and she marveled at the fact that he actually let her see him so exposed, physically as well as emotionally.
Shaking off those ridiculous thoughts, she retreated to her armoire for fresh clothes. Her wardrobe was a burlesque fantasy of silk, leather, and lace. There were even a few feather boas scattered about, as she had one client who preferred to be restrained with them. After scanning through her collection, she randomly chose a black floor-length wraparound skirt, thigh high silk stockings, and an emerald green whalebone corset to bring out her inner Slytherin.
She then shrugged on a sheer shawl over her bold attire before walking to the window and lighting a cigarette. A bitter, joyless laugh escaped her lips when she looked out of the window onto the graveyard below. In the middle of the rows of identical stones, stood Harry Potter's tomb. The filth that littered the rest of the grounds never touched it. Dumbledore's wards took care for that.
Guilt over what she had become consumed her, and she looked away from her best friend's resting place. Breathing in the crisp night air, she looked beyond the castle's decaying grounds. Only two organized townships existed in post-war Wizarding Britain, Hogsmeade and the Wizarding district of Wiltshire.
Voldemort had dismantled the British Ministry prior to his death, and, with the Dark Lord and Harry Potter out of the picture, the Wizarding population never reorganized.
Hogwarts Castle quickly became the center of Hogsmeade, as wizards moved there in search of guidance from the great Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore's rival for control of Wizarding Britain, Lucius Malfoy, ruled Wiltshire from Malfoy Manor.
Life in a township was rough, but leaving a township was suicide. The city walls were the only protection from the chaos raging on the outside. Crime was the only way of survival in the new era, and each township offered protection to its members. Each was run like a mafia crime family.
Both houses had become twisted, evil, and powerful in the years since the war. Lucius had organized his corrupt system of racketeering, blackmail, prostitution, and dangerous potions. Lucius' township had gained power fast, so Albus had no choice. He had to follow suit in order to stay afloat with his followers and keep Lucius Malfoy from taking over all of Wizarding Britain. Albus Dumbledore was nothing, if not a survivor.
The barely perceptible sound of the witch's mattress dipping under pressure alerted her to the fact that her companion was settling back into her bed. As he methodically laced his boots, she crushed out her cigarette and assumed a haughty posture.
Without turning to look at him, she said, "Get off of my bed, Snape. You'll get it dirty."
"I thought that I had finally managed to teach you to show respect for your elders, Miss Granger. Aren't you going to offer me tea? Tired of my company already?"
He knew that calling her by her former name was like turning the emotional knife already imbedded deep within her delectable chest, but he was determined to teach the little minx to stop playing her mind games with him. She might be able to run the other wizards she entertained, but he refused to be duped by his former student's cruel feminine wiles.
"I'm not interested in a mind fuck as well, old man. You've served your purpose, and now we are finished. Why must you continue to annoy me?"
Hermione continued to look out of the window, so he crept up behind her and pressed his hard body against her soft backside. She immediately gasped and stiffened. Then she curled her delicate hands into tight fists, as she cursed her reaction to him.
"Old man? I must seem like a wild stallion between your legs compared to your decrepit husband. Surely you can do better than that?"
"Get out, Snape!"
"Look me in the eye and tell me to leave, and I will."
She turned around so that they were standing toe to toe. She stood firm and elegant, but her trembling voice deceived her when she whispered, "Get out."
Severus smiled in triumph. "Of course, Hermione." He slipped a piece of parchment into the top of her corset while declaring, "Draco asked me to give you this, and Albus wants to see you tonight as well."
With that, he turned on his heel and left Hermione to ready herself for her meeting with their illustrious leader.
Dumbledore's office door opened up to her as soon as she stepped in front of it, so she strutted her way to the edge of his desk and waited for the powerful wizard to acknowledge her undeniable presence.
Baby blue eyes fixed her in a piercing gaze from over the top of half-moon glasses.
"Come here, Hermione."
Albus Dumbledore pushed his chair away from his desk to make room for Hermione to sit on the ledge in front of him. She slid into place, inched her skirt up to her waist, and placed her bare feet on the armrests of his chair. Her yellow edible knickers were exposed to him, and he licked his lips in anticipation.
"What flavor are they tonight?" Albus asked, as he tucked his bony fingers into the delicious garment's inner thigh seams.
"I chose your favorite, lemon drop."
The stately wizard promptly threw her legs over his shoulders and feasted on her lemon-flavored cunt while she dug her fingers into his silver mane. As she began to pull harder on his hair, his mouth worked more vigorously on her juicy center.
Albus was old, but he was a cunnilingus master. Hermione's legs shivered from the force of her climax, and she let go of his hair and lay back on the desk to catch her breath.
She heard her partner growl in protest at losing her fingers in his hair.
When she pulled his hair, his cock became as hard as a rock. She knew it, but she loved to tease.
"Pull my beard, Hermione."
She twisted his beard into her hand and jerked him towards her into a suffocating kiss. She could taste lemony pussy on his breath, and it made her moan with pleasure.
Albus opened his amazing Technicolor robe and buried his elder wand into her candy-coated cunt while Hermione patiently waited for his release. It never took very long with him, and she enjoyed his magic tongue and creative foreplay much more than his old balls slapping against her young flesh.
With a strangled cry of "Fucking Fizzing Whizbees" he drenched her inner walls with pearly white cum.
He sat down in his ornate chair and enjoyed the kind of peace that a man can only feel directly after fucking a beautiful woman. Hermione propped her body up with her elbows and looked at her ancient lover with a question in her eyes.
"What is it, my dear?"
"Surely you're not finished with me, you kinky bastard."
Albus said nothing, as he opened the top drawer of his desk and removed several Licorice Wands from within. A girlish, yet strangely erotic, giggle erupted from Hermione at the sight of the phallic candy.
He inserted them into every sexual orifice available on her hot little body. After placing one in her mouth, he ordered her to demonstrate the best way to suck a cock. She deep throated the candy while he placed several of them in her slick core and in her puckered hole.
She was always chastising him for getting his rocks off on such kinky games, but he knew that she liked it, too. Her wanton moaning could attest to that.
In the midst of their weekly rendezvous, an expected visitor entered the office and immediately turned red at the sight before his eyes.
Ron Weasley averted his eyes and mumbled, "You wanted to see me, Sir? I . . . I didn't mean to interrupt you while you are with your wife."
Albus had taken Hermione as his bride in order to keep the support of his people. The Muggle-born population, as well as the rest of his followers, held her in high esteem since she was the brightest witch of her age and the best mate of Harry Potter. She had also become an extremely powerful sorceress. As madam of the castle's famous courtesans, "Dumbledore's Dolls," she had gained much notoriety. In addition to running the harem, she also managed the castle's finances.
Hermione snickered, smoothed down her skirt, and whispered, "Why do you continue to torture poor Ron in such a way? Really! You must quit summoning him here to witness our activities."
"Hermione, I did no such thing. Mr. Weasley and I have business to discuss. I'll have to cut this short. I'm sorry."
Hermione walked out of the room without even sparing either of the wizards a second glance.
Albus gestured for Ron to take a seat.
While handing him a Licorice Wand, he said, "Have one of these, Mr. Weasley. They are delightful. I dare say that you will never taste anything like it again."