Harry's Sweat Shop
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters...I just like molesting them.
Oh yes, by the way, if you are going to leave anonymous reviews telling me to get therapy and that this is gross and/or stupid you are wasting your time. However, if you want to argue with me about it, the pleasure will be mine. Feel free to send your remarks to
Summary: As usual Harry is on an ego trip but this time he puts those he loves in danger.
Rated: R for ridiculously funny! Also M…for those who want to get technical!
Hedwig sighed and let out a soft, defeated hoot. Her tail hurt and she was tired of fingers being inserted into her bum. It was sore and runny, smelly green poop constantly ran from the fistula that had formed there long ago. Harry would not even send her to Oprah's camp for fistula victims. He didn't care about that. The old Harry would have. But this new Harry character cared for nothing but money. Anything to make an extra quid.
Her melancholy thoughts were rudely interrupted as the Beatles tune "And I Love Her" came over the wireless. Hedwig became so upset that she spit up an owl pellet. She quickly kicked the pellet away before it was reinserted in her worn out rectum. It rolled across the floor and stopped at the feet at none other than the nineteen toed Scabbers Weasley. Hedwig curled her beak in disgust. He was a rather dodgy rat and Harry forced him to spend his days chewing genital warts off the populace of East London for little to no pay. Sometimes he would only get some stale peanut butter on a cracker for his efforts. Those were dark days.
Hedwig jumped when the door opened and Harry stepped in clad in a teddy.
"Our song is on, old girl," Harry crooned as he walked over to the defeated birth. He grabbed her wings and spread them out then wiped his erect peepee on her beak, relishing in the sharpness of it on his purple head.
"Hermione! Ron!" Harry called, "To me!"
The Imperio-ed Ron and Hermione appeared. Ron dropped his trousers while Hermione grabbed Scabbers, earning a frightened squeak. Without a word she pulled Scabbers's tail so that he bared his teeth and began to shave Ron's nether regions.
When she was finished Ron went over to the closet and retrieved Crookshanks who was clad in a lab coat. The cat had been frightened by Harry farting in his face after a family sized portion of Shepard's Pie and countless pints to wash it down and put into a body bind. The cat had a frightened look on his face and its hair was sticking up. But most importantly his tail was erect.
"Get that damn coat off my puss n' boots," Harry howled as he swirled Reddi Whip over the head of his peepee, "You know what to do!"
Hedwig screamed in agony as Harry entered her bumbum. There was nothing gentle about Harry anymore. It made Hedwig wish she had never left Severus. He might have a big nose but he was a much gentler lover and had a massive peepee. He knew where to put it too.
Ron obeyed and then tested the rigidity of Crookshanks's tail. Then he proceeded to give Hermione a colonoscopy with it. After he was done she stood up, bent over and then sprayed poop all over the wall. Ron began making pictures of puppies with it and occasionally eating a bit of undigested food.
Harry quickly finished with Hedwig and threw her to the floor. He plucked out a tail feather and put it in his hair. He began to sing "Yankee Doodle Dandy" despite the fact he wasn't a Yank.
He signaled to the other two and they followed him out of the room. Hedwig sighed. This was just another night in her dismal life. She lived in the dingy flat and all day long the gutter trash would wander in and pay Harry money for a colonoscopy from Crookshanks or perhaps get their genital warts chewed on by Scabbers. Hedwig's specialty was clit and nipple piercings. But they were all expected to turn tricks. Harry never gave them any wages and often said that their unsubstantial food was their wages. So was the life of these most unfortunate pets.
There was a swift rap on the door. The man who stepped in was the floor manager.
"She's on." He said through a thick beard and moustache.
Harry turned to Hedwig, snapped his fingers, and motioned her towards the door. Hedwig hung her head put on her head dress that was concocted of old colored socks and a broken necklace. She walked out the door and up to the stage. The song "She's My Cherry Pie" came on and Hedwig stepped out. Men and women cheered and whistled loudly. Hedwig began to shake her feathers and fly and dip over the stage. She jumped on people's laps and swirled her head into their groins as they stuck quid after quid into her headpiece. Soon she was getting her chest grabbed, her peepee fingered and licked on the beak. Her time was finally over. She walked back stage and into her dressing room.
"Hoot…" She sighed depressingly.
"HEDWIG TO THE BOOTHS." A voice came over the p.a. system.
She knew what that meant. Lap dances. As she walked forward to the booths she noticed that it was a full house. The booths were packed. Hedwig jumped up on the table collected her pay, and bent over the table. She was fingered, bumbum screwed, and peepee screwed.
Harry came out after an hour of molestation, and threw her into his room.
"How did you do tonight for me, Bitch?" Harry said very hoarsely. " What do you have for Daddy?"
He was drunk. He took all of her tips and threw her a peanut.
"Get out of my sight. I am sick of smelling you." He scolded.
"Ho-oo-oo-tt…" she sobbed as she walked out of the room and down the hall.
She later that night after all had left and it was all calm, entered her dressing room. She sat and stared at herself in the mirror. She hated herself and hated who she had become. She opened the drawer to the left and pulled out the 9-mil. She took the bullet that was in a case called: Last Resort. She put it to her head and pulled the trigger. Feathers and blood splattered the mirror. Hedwig was dead.
THE END