Harry Potter Loves Fangirls

It is a little known fact that there is another dimension in which fangirls and sexy male wizards can meet, shall we say, in the flesh. And all you have to do to get there is to wish hard enough for a long enough time. This was etched into a blue and gold plaque embellished with moons, stars, and owls above Irma Flanbottom's computer. Miss Flanbottom was the creator of a slash fanfiction website that specialized in exotic homoerotic BDSM soft core pornography especially designed to titillate lonely lovelorn female, and gay male fiction fans. Let it suffice to say that Miss Flanbottom's writings had given many many young men and women hours and hours of perverse and deeply satisfying pleasure. Still, it was getting harder and harder for Miss Flanbottom to find fanfics that amused her. She had read them all and still had a ravenous appetite for more.

On this particular night, Miss Flanbottom decided to try a real BDSM site which had a Harry Potter group hidden in its perv ridden bowels. Smutlife was a sight full of toe suckers, diaper wearers, furries, butt plug loving weirdos and dirty fiction writers. At last, Miss Flanbottom sighed as she looked through the lists of groups. This filthy site was giving her plenty of brilliant ideas for her fanfictions. Butt plugs with horsey tails attached! Labia jewelry! F-ing Machines! It was a treasure trove of wicked ideas for a fanfiction! And they had a Harry Potter group. Irma squealed and sweat oozed from her white clammy pores. Trembling fingers rolled and clicked her mouse on the appropriate buttons. A photo of a drawing of Snape standing over a cunningly bound Harry popped up. He was tied in a style the perverts referred to as Shibari. Any obliging fetishist would explain to you that Shibari is the Ancient Chinese art of making a macrame people-holder.

Irma's "Flanbottom" slid back and forth on her scruffy and cat-hair laden office chair as her poor wet muffin frantically tried to escape its stained cotton Wal-Mart granny panties. There were so many titles to chose from. Snape the furry, Neville Assmaster, Draco loves his Chastity belt. Irma suddenly remembered she had brought a muffin down stairs to consume in her basement room. She removed her muffin from her elastic panty waistband and started munching it with gusto. Her fat, orange cat jumped off of his perch on top of a shelf to lap up the crumbs that hit the floor.

"I'm gonna need my reading glasses for this!" Irma said. She clicked on a fanfic about Harry and Snape. It skipped over the usual dribble where Harry and Snape fall in love with each other and got straight to the smut. Irma mouthed the words as she read: Snape became impatient and Harry could not understand why. Then Harry felt himself being pinned to the wall much the way he had seen and envied Snape pinning Draco to the wall. Snape uulled Harry's hair and stuck his incredibly long tongue in Harry's mouth. Harry choked with delight, his perverted little heart pounding in it's ribcage. Then, with a wave of Snape's wand, Harry found himself bound in macrame string. It itched and Harry was bound in a humiliating position. He had never felt so hot before. Snape lowered his illuminated wand...

Irma fell back into her chair panting. This WAS exactly what she had been looking for! She snuck across her room, locked the door, and fired up old sparky, her 70s orange muscle massager with electric tape mending the yellowing cord. She peeled off her sticky polyester bra and kept reading. BZZZZZZZZZZ … Harry could not dislodge the...BZZZZZ...that Snape had placed in his...BZZZZ...it hurt at first and harry whimpered...it started to feel delicious...BZZZZZZZ...Snape leaned over and whispered in a honeyed voice, "Do you really think you can handle the severus Snake, Mr Potter...

Irma was in extacy several times in a row. She read on. And then Snape let Harry out of the fiendish iron maiden in which he had been mummified for eight hours straight in a metal padlocked Victorian chastity belt. Snape pulled out his ball gag and hissed, "Now do you want me again?" "A thousand times Yes!" Harry hissed in parseltongue, just before Snape let the ball gag snap into place. The highly skilled potions master then removed Harry's mummy wrappings and the cruel dull pot metal chastity belt that had imprisoned Harry's quivering manhood.

Irma was so excited she had to open a window and get some fresh air to avert a heart attack. Never before had she found such a wonderfully graphic description. She ran back to the computer filled with a deep longing for more. She read on: Harry bucked as Snape wiggled it around in circles...BZZZ...Snape became like the Hogwarts Express, rhythmically... BZZZ... Irma was dizzy and faint with longing, like one of her characters. She felt as if she might suddenly die for a lack of Harry's sweet body. And then something extrordinay happened. Irma looked up. It was hard to tear her lovelorn eyes away from her computer monitor but something had changed. Her potted fern was not on the cat shelf above the computer monitor. Instead she was in a gray room with walls made of stones. It was dark and there was some kind of a ramp that she could see. A noise from behind startled her. She turned in her cat hair covered office chair to find herself looking at a perfect replica of a Hogwarts bed chamber. Neville's bed was empty. Ron's bed was empty. But the middle bed had an occupant. Irma rubbed her eyes in dismay to find that her glasses were gone.

A faint moan came from Harry's bed, a riot of velvet, tassels and tapestry. Irma knew it well. It was a moan of longing, the kind of moan she had issued forth herself many many times while thinking of Harry. She walked closed to the bed and brazenly pulled the curtain back, something the real Irma never would have done. There, in a flattering mini spotlight, sat a beautiful boy who was obviously the age of consent with a sharp nose and chin, tousled hair, large liquid eyes, ivory skin and the most amazing set of abs she had ever seen on such a thin, pale youth. He sniffled. "What's wrong?" Irma asked. He looked her straight in her eyes with his piercing eagle eyed look, the one she liked to call "Blue Steel" and melted her heart when he said, "I'm Lonely. So lonely."

Irma found herself magnetically drawn to Harry. "You needn't be," she said. Then she leaned forward and kissed him directly on his lips; the sensual fat bottomed lip and the precious little curly upper cupids bow. Harry kissed back with all the sweetness that his beautiful face and body surely contained concentrated in his sweet lips. Irma started sputtering, "Why did you let me kiss you? I mean, I'm a...nerd..in short. Yes, I suppose I am a nerd. That's exactly what I am." "I hadn't noticed," Harry cooed as he ran his delicate fragile porcelain hand through her thick, shiny tresses. Irma crawled across the vast expanse of the riotous bed in a heartbeat, and posed in front of him like a leopard on all fours, looking deeply into his dreamy eyes. "Do you know what I like the best about you?" she asked.

"My beautiful shining eyes? My amazing buttock with great dimples? My perfect skin? My chiseled features?" Harry began rattling off his attributes. "No," Irma moaned, "It's your beautiful English accent that I love." "But it's fake!" Harry protested. "I don't care! It's beautiful." Irma growled the last sentence from her belly and presse her bare and ample chest against Harry's sexy rippling torso. She pulled off his John Lennon glasses and kissed him again as her other hand slid down his creamy body. He giggled, very ticklishly, as she touched something large, fluorescent pink, and quivering. They always quiver in these stories. Harry became very excited and pulled her down onto the bed. He fell on top of her panting. "I find nerds to be very erotic, "he whispered in parseltongue.

Harry took her and made it feel like she was being forced. He pounded all of the breath out of her and then he pounded some more like a deranged jungle beast getting all he could. Then he made Irma moan over and over with delight as he turned her face down and hit her magic love spot again and again over and over crashing like the waves on an ocean. When it was over he lay in her arms, panting. "I love your stringy brown hair and your quirky little reading glasses, my luscious fan girl!" Harry gasped. He rubbed his face all over Irma's frontal body, did some things it would not be ladylike for Miss Flanbottom to confess on his way down, and then came up for air behind her.

He sat on her squishy white buttocks and began rubbing her back. He told her all his little secrets, like the beautiful tree in the Hogwarts grounds that he liked to visit to be alone and the book about baby dragons nobody knew he had read. Then he pulled Irma's hair and, suddenly all Slytheryn, he whispered, "I have pleased you, Irma Flanbottom, and now you will please me!"

Irma felt her hands instantly lashed to the headboard and Harry pounced on her back. He shoved the corner of his pillow into her mouth to stifle her cries of bliss. He whispered in her other ear, "I'm going to violate you now in the way your boyfriend won't!" Oh, please, yes! Irma thought. Then the spotlight on the bed went din amd Irma felt a sharp pain. Then it started to feel awesome. Harry bounced up and down with his taut chest muscles wapping her flabby back. Their sweat mingled. Irma bit the pillow and writhed and moaned as a snake. "Sexy sexy sexy sexy nerd nerd nerd nerd, Sexy sexy sexy sexy nerd nerd nerd nerd" Harry chanted over and over again as he took Irma in several ways she never dreamed possible for a much longer time that she thought a pale British schoolboy could last. Then, he collapsed, spent, on Irma's back and fell asleep with his sweet hot breath on her neck and chin. Irma did not want to fall asleep, but it happened to her uncontrollably, just the same.

She saw herself spinning around in circles flying through some kind of a tubular hall. A vision of Dumbledore spoke to her as she approached the white light at the end. He told her that her time with Harry was up and other lonely nerdettes were waiting their turns with Slash Harry.

Irma Flanbottom woke up to her alarm clock ringing loudly. Sunlight bleached her eyeballs horribly. Her cat jumped in her lap meowing to be petted. She had fallen asleep a her computer monitor. Irma opened her mouth to say something pleasant to her kitty. A blob of wet fabric fell out of her mouth. It was the corner of a pillow swaddled in red embroidered tapestry. Irma gaped at it with huge eyes and vowed to wear it over her heart forever.

The End?