Author's notes: before starting, I want to say: WARNING! THIS CHAPTER HAS SMUT! That said, I want to thank you all for the followings, reviews, bookmarkings and PM's. I hope you enjoy the story and keep contacting me by PM or review, sending questions, complaints, compliments and death threats. The tale is gathering some steam, and next chapter will have some more Harry, we will start to time-skip, but in a way we can see more about their home life. Thank you again, and enjoy the chapter!

Pamela Polkiss had waited almost half a day before she finally gave in and decided to resort to a more direct approach. She had been lucky the night before, her diet-breaking midnight snack gave her the chance to gaze over the street and check if the horrible child of the Rothbard's had come home drunk once again. It had been the gossip of the month, the last time, for the boy had lost his keys and had to call loudly for his mother to open the door for him. Pamela shivered in disgust just by remembering that night. If he were her son… Well, Piers would never humiliate her like that. He was a sweet, cute baby with thin brown hair just like hers, and she was sure he would bring nothing but pride to her and her husband. But, the night before, the soap opera wasn't happening at the Rothbard's, but right under her nose, on Petunia's lawn.

A figure dressed in black from head to toe had arrived half past two in the morning and knocked loudly on her door. Vernon had opened and ushered the figure inside, and… that's it. She had stood by her window, in the dark, for almost two hours, but nothing else happened. An hour after the figure's arrival, all lights had been turned off, and no more was heard.

She was tired but had woken early, just to catch Vernon's departure. She had coaxed her husband to leave a little bit later than normal just so he could greet Petunia's overweight husband (she insisted he was big boned and had been a Rugby player in college. The fact she couldn't provide even the college name was a story worth pursuing later). The man hadn't acted differently at all, greeting Mark with a petulant wave and driving off on his brand-new black car. They hadn't seen Petunia, but that was hardly uncommon. Her son was a little devil and fussed to hell and back to keep seated and eat. Petunia would struggle with him for hours. Thank God Piers was so much more well-behaved, she would kill herself if her little angel was so annoying as Dudley.

She held camp around the bedroom window. Her kitchen didn't have a good line of sight, as the hedge was tall enough to hide Number Four from view. But, the entire morning, the house stayed quiet and almost devoid of life. Petunia normally would open the bedroom windows and the curtains in the living room and the kitchen, even more now that Vernon had brought that annoyingly huge television set. They had positioned it so anyone passing in front of the house would have a good eyeful of the device. But, that morning, the curtains stayed shut, the door locked and the house silent.

Around noon, she baked a cake. She hated having to directly contact the neighbours just to discover what they were up to. It always made it harder to pass the information on, as she would be the prime suspect if some secret was spilt. But Petunia was being annoying and Mark would come early that night so they could go to one of his stupid club meetings. Piers fussed, refusing to eat his food, but she braved it with a smile and put her finishing touches on her cake.

Petunia's doorbell didn't sound like a bell at all but instead played a soft melody. It always grated on her nerves, as it sounded so much more refined than her own doorbell but it would make her look stupid to install a similar one on her house. She had entrusted Mark to find something to up Petunia's, but he had come empty handed so far. She plastered a smile on her face when she heard the door unlatch.

"Petunia dear, how good to see you," she greeted, noticing and cataloguing the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and the new clothes. Well, not new, she had seen Petunia use that skirt and that blouse, but never together, and never with such… Elegance? She had terribly skinny legs and very knobby knees, so every single skirt looked ridiculous on her, except for the longer ones, but Petunia hardly used them. However, the colourful flower pattern hid her legs, the wide skirt giving some shape to the otherwise lamppost-like woman. Her blouse was light blue, with puffy sleeves, shaping her a little better. A thin belt trimmed and flaunted her tiny waist. "I've brought you some cake to thank you for that pie."

"Oh, Pamela, I was just thinking about you! Please, please, come in, I've just put the kettle on the stove. Humm, that smells heavenly."

When Petunia twirled on the spot, Pamela noticed the woman was wearing heels. Petunia never wore heels, as she was tall enough already. However, the shoes and the clothes made her look prettier, like a model or a television actress. Her hips were swaying from side to side while she walked, and it was hard not to look. Pamela could almost taste the juicy gossip in her tongue. Maybe the dark figure was a… oh, what if he was Petunia's lover? A foreign man, sweeping the mild housewife from her feet and dominating her? Making her dress like… well, it should be like a scarlet woman, but Petunia's outfit was very proper and nice, just… flattering her best attributes while hiding her lack of curves. But then again, how would Vernon act so normal when his wife's lover arrives in the middle of the night…?

"Oh, you have guests. I'm sorry, Pet, I'll… I'll be upstairs."

Whatever train of thought was passing through Pamela's head screeched to a halt at the figure that appeared at the kitchen door. Pamela could swear to God the very air was knocked out of her lungs when her eyes landed on… that.

It was a woman. Almost as tall as Petunia, the dark figure (because who else would it be?) wasn't a lover, at least she hoped to God it was not. Maybe she could even admit it was a beautiful woman, dark eyes, dark hair, perfectly modelled fine eyebrows, a full mouth and high, defined cheekbones, a defined body and great posture. But its visage was…

There was a steel ring in the middle of her bottom lip, dividing the black-painted lips perfectly. Another metal ring pierced her right nostril, while three nail-like studs where aligned through her left eyebrow, giving her face an asymmetrical and mean look. Both her ears were loaded with earrings of different shapes, trailing down the shell or crisscrossing it, ending in huge fine metal earloops that dangled freely at every step the woman took. The piercings, however, were just part of the incredible freaky appearance, as tattoos littered over her body: there was a — believe it or not! — pair of guns pointing one to the other sprawled over her chest, aimed slightly downwards, the barrels trailing under her collarbone, the triggers hovering over her breasts. Her T-Shirt had been ripped and cut, the collar removed to make it look like a strapless blouse, showing off the violent tattoo. The shirt ended just a little bit under her full breasts that already strained the material and showed her lack of bra, and her toned, almost muscly belly was painted too, arabesque lines and something that looked like runes sprawled right under her breasts almost to the point of touching her bellybutton. She had three piercings through it, one coming from the top and other two angled from the sides, the tree inner balls fused together to shape the piercings into a triangle united from the centre.

Below her navel, an emerald snake twisted over her skin, from the left to the right, its fangs poised to strike, its tail dipping inside her waistband. Her black jeans were ripped, and Pamela could see the snake tail on her left leg through one of the many holes in the material. She could see other tattoos on the… woman's legs, and even on the top of her bare feet. Her left arm was covered in drawings from the shoulder to the wrist, and there were letters printed on her fingers! Even her hairstyle was freaky, the left side had been totally shaved, making her long, luscious ebony hair cascade down only to the right. When the woman crossed in front of them and went up the stairs, Pamela could see almost her entire back, as the shirt was even more abused on it, and huge black wings were tattooed on the pale-white skin.

"That's my sister, Lily."

Pamela had heard of Lily just once before. When Vernon and Petunia moved to Privet Drive, she had told her she was an only child, but in one of the many book club meetings, the woman finally confessed having a younger sister. At that time, Petunia had simply said they had no contact anymore, and that the sister's name was Lily and she had long lost her path in life. The displeasure in her voice had been so hard they had dropped that gossip immediately. Every family has a skeleton in its closet, and it was unpleasant to poke around it. Now, having finally met such skeleton, Pamela wondered why Petunia had let it enter her house.

"Are you… in some sort of… trouble?"

"What? Oh, no, no. Let's talk about it over a cuppa, shall we? And we can cut this cake, it's still warm! Here, let me pour the water."

As Petunia busied herself in the kitchen, Pamela took a seat and discreetly observed her guest. The new clothes were strange, the horrendous sister was stranger, but the true displacement came from how normal Petunia was acting. As if bringing… punks to her house was an everyday occurrence. She had seen punks before, loitering on the streets behind the market, doing drugs and listening to loud music. Maybe Vernon and Petunia were part of the drug business? She had heard that those that sold drugs earned a lot of money, maybe that's how Vernon afforded a new car every year. That's it, there was no way they could be so well-off just from his job in the drills company…

"I've never told this story before."

There was a shift in the air, as Petunia placed the cup in front of her and drank from her own. Her eyes were strange, soft and hard at the same time. Pamela fidgeted in her seat, half excited, half scared by it all. As if edging a precipice.

"You can tell me, Petunia. Anything. You know you are one of my best friends, don't you?"

There was a long, pregnant silence while Petunia sliced the cake.

"When Lily was born I was six years old. It had been a difficult year, she had been a surprise for all of us. As both our parents worked in the factory the entire day, I needed to help mum with the baby. It was fun, at first, like playing house, but I soon started to take it more seriously. My name was her first word, I taught her how to walk, how to run and how to climb trees. I taught her the letters, the songs and all the games. She would… walk, behind me, on the street, while I sold the embroidered napkins and towels my mom produced, talking no-stop and filling my days with questions, word games, music… We told each other everything. Well, she told me everything, and I told her what a teenager girl would believe is proper to share with her baby sister. I remember a dress, a green dress embroidered with tiny red flowers… I sew it for her, even if I was really bad at it, so she had something new to wear to her birthday party. I had to almost rip it of her, she wore that thing so many times that we had to destroy it and tell her the washing machine ruined it when she got too tall to wear the dress. She cried the whole day…

"Everything changed around her eleventh birthday. An elite private school in Scotland offered her a scholarship. They had been… Amazed by her intellect and her talents. I… was against it. Not because I was jealous of the scholarship: I was sixteen at the time, and looking for a job already, almost out of high-school. But I feared change. My cute little sister, living alone in Scotland, in a school we couldn't visit… But she went. It was, after all, a one-in-a-kind opportunity, and so we dropped her at King's Cross, hoping against hope everything would be alright. Well, it didn't."

Petunia poured more tea while Pamela watched, entranced.

"The letters home were full of wonder and joy, the school was huge and magical, there were a lake and a forest, and a dormitory for girls from all the United Kingdom. But soon, reality tainted the magic. She was a girl with no background, no contacts, no money, riding a scholarship in a school full of young lords and ladies. People that could trace their forefathers all the way to the foundation of our country. The letters changed, not in content, but they came home always full of lies. I've made friends today. The classes are great. The professors help me with my troubles. People like me here. I'm fitting in. I fell down on the lake in the middle of November and had to stay in the Infirmary for days 'cause I couldn't feel my fingers, but that was entirely my own fault."

Her eyes were unfocused as if reading letters long written. Her tea was cold, but she didn't move to pour a new cup. She was far away, in a past full of regrets no one could change.

"My worst fears soon became truth. She started to hang out with the other misfits and deviants. She went down a path of darkness and pain. She had to go through too much, all alone. That… changes people. And every time she came back home, I was the only one who saw that change. But I was young, stupid and scared. I couldn't go to Scotland to set things straight. I couldn't save Lily, and my words were empty and hollow. My own impotence became anger, and anger quickly soured to hate. I could see where she was going to, and I could also see I could do nothing to prevent it. The last time I saw her when I married Vernon, the only thing I could say was four spiteful words that I regret to this day: you are a freak.

"When she married, I refused to go see her. The bridges we had built were already long burned. She wasn't the girl I raised, and I couldn't accept that fact. As it were, I always thought her husband would be exactly like those misfits: a good-for-nothing, lazy-ass moron. However, that man could do what I couldn't: he showed her beauty, purpose and understanding. He went straight from school to law enforcement and studied hard to become a good policeman. He also captured dozens of dangerous criminals, risking his own life to make our world safer. While together, he made her regret her decisions, and work towards a new path."

Petunia paused and stirred the cold tea. The house was silent, no sign of the woman they were discussing.

"Her husband was killed this week in their own house."

Pamela felt the air hitch in her lungs, her hands flying to cover her gasp.

"It was an act of revenge by his actions. A break-in in the middle of the night. He was unarmed, he believed he was safe inside his home. She was half asleep on the couch when it happened. And now, after so many years and so much pain, she came back searching for me, and we are ready to try again. Lily will be living with us, as she feels her home isn't secure anymore, and we will… recover together."

"Oh, Petunia dear! I… I don't even… I mean, that's such a shocking… Well, huh, is there something I can do to help?"

"Thank you, Pamela. Really, just knowing there are people that care about here is already making a world of good. It will take time before she gets used to strangers again. The shock was too great, you see, and sometimes she gets… lost in her own mind, confused, like forgetting how to use a light switch or how a television works. I'm giving my all to make this easy for us. You know, it's like taking care of the baby all over again, and I'm rediscovering the joy of living with my sister. Here, let me call her, I think she will love your cake."

The woman really did enjoy the treat. She was quiet and seemed confused by it all, jumping from her seat when the doorbell sang again with a delivery for Vernon. They didn't talk much, but the woman had an ease presence, even with her disturbing appearance. She was a dear to look at when Petunia brought her baby downstairs, the tattooed beauty spoon-feeding him patiently, an adoring look in her eyes. Pamela supposed the woman wanted a baby of her own, she could see the motherly instincts screaming in her posture. A policeman and a punk. In a way, it was quite romantic.

Pamela left just before Vernon arrived. Petunia had to bath the baby, and Lily wanted to rest some in the guest bedroom. But, before letting her go, Petunia asked Pamela to spread the news of her new resident. She needed to stay at home and take care of both the baby and her sister, but she wanted people to come and talk to Lily, so she could get used to it a little bit faster. Petunia even wanted to throw a little get-together around the end of the month, after Lily met every one of the proper crowd. A ladies night. With carte blanche to gossip about the newcomer, she was sure there would be no shortage of visitors.

With a mission in her hands, Pamela left the house and marched straight to Margaret's, maybe she would use the excuse that Piers wanted to play with his friend. Cradling her baby in her arms, she thought about Petunia's boy and the hungry look in Lily's eyes. Well, she could understand her a little bit. Harry had chubby cheeks to die for.

"Why can't I go, again?"

Pamela rolled her eyes at her husband, pressing her dress down her body, worried about the length of the skirt. She hadn't used that one since Andrea's marriage three years before, and her butt had been gathering steam since then, making the hemline rise considerably. But, well, Petunia had asked for such wear, and she didn't have another one…

"Mark, I told you already. It's just us girls, hanging out at Petunia's. You really don't want to go to Lily's baby shower, do you? Oh, just the talk alone would already hurt your male sensibilities."

Mark snorted, adjusting his tie.

"Well, I don't like that Lily woman. Look like a goddamn troublemaker. I bet she doesn't even know who the father is."

"You are being mean, Mark. She is strange, sure, but a total sweetie after you get to know her better. And her dorky ways are quite funny, can you believe I had to teach her how to use a stove?"

"Now we know how her husband died: hunger."

"That's not funny," retorted her, but he just chuckled and kissed her cheek. The babysitter was watching TV in the living room, the gift was on her bed and the husband was gone. She slid her hands down her body once again and breathed deeply to gather courage.

Her heels clicked loudly on the desert street. Petunia had left all the lights on, festive flasher lights in red and green illuminating the garden and tracing a path from the gate to her porch. There was a crude banner over the door, a piece of cardboard where someone had traced letters with a Sharpie.

"Lily's baby shower: men not allowed" she read, a smile splitting her face. She hadn't been so giddy since… well, maybe since her marriage? There was no way Petunia would hear the soft melody from the doorbell, Pamela could hear laughter and music even from the porch. She knocked loudly.

"Pamela!" Petunia exclaimed, opening the door fully after recognizing her. The last month had been good to the woman: her hair was bright red, fuller and firm (she confessed dying it blonde for most of her life, to be less showy), she had gained weight, but in a good, healthy way. Her face was less thin and gaunt, even her lips were fuller. The bright green eyes were even more prominent with the carefully applied delineator and the colourful shadow over her eyelids. She was wearing a cocktail dress, the bodice straining hard against her huge breasts. Those boobs still stirred envy in Pamela, who knew fake tits could look so gorgeous and natural? She couldn't exactly remember when Petunia's got them installed, she even had a feeling she called the woman a "lamppost" not so long before… maybe around May? Well, no one would call the redhead flat now. Her platform heels were adorned with tiny metal spikes and clicked loudly against each other as the woman moved away from the door and shushed Pamela inside, taking the gift from her. "Oh, thank you! Lily'll be so happy, you know you made a great impression on her. Come on, everybody arrived already, let's get you something to drink."

She was passed a crystal flute full of golden champagne. Petunia had installed makeshift curtains in the entrance hall, and the number of coats hanged there was staggering. Petunia really wasn't pulling any stops on that party, it seemed most of Little Whining was there, all women, talking loudly and drinking… ooh, great champagne. So, she would spend a night feeling young and free again, getting a little tipsy and gossiping away with every sort of right people. Take that, Mark and your stupid club.

Petunia shoved the curtain away and they entered the living room, full to the brim with beautiful, well-dressed women and… Pamela gasped so loudly some of the nearer guests looked at her, laughing at her reaction.

In the centre of the room, standing on the tip of his toes, was a man. She couldn't recognize him, as his entire skull was enclosed inside a leather mask, with just two tiny holes in the front to allow him to breathe, and a heavy, steel zipper closed over his mouth. He couldn't see them, and maybe he couldn't even hear them under the full-black, stretched material. It was also the only stitch of clothing on his body, and what a body that was! He was huge, at least 6 feet and 3 inches tall, muscly like a weightlifter, hung like a horse and covered in scars, from neck to toe, deep gorges and ropey tissue, as if he fought with wild animals regularly. His long, thick arms were stretched above his head, his wrists tied together, a strong, impossibly thick chain keeping them up, binding his arms to the ceiling, where a piece of plaster had been removed to expose a rafter. His long and terrifyingly thick cock was hard, pointing almost straight up, a steel ring pressing around its base. The man was sweating profusely, grunting loudly against the mask and pulling so hard on the chain to the point of keeping it taut. He had to stand on the tip of his toes to reach the ground, and his gorgeous muscles were shifting and trembling hard against the effort.

"Petunia? What is this?"

The redhead laughed, sipping on her own flute. The women around the guest were talking and giggling, drinking and eating as if it were completely normal to have a naked bound man in the middle of the room. Some even gazed at him heatedly, something that rubbed very wrong with Pamela, as she knew almost everybody there, and only a handful of the guests wasn't married or in a relationship. She had heard about bachelorette's wild parties, but that was something so far removed from their reality in Little Whinging that they could only think about them as an enigmatic abstract concept.

"You know Lily isn't pregnant yet, silly, how could we have a baby's shower with no baby? I can't believe you realized that only now!"

Pamela took a sip of champagne to unglue her dried tongue from her mouth, the surreal situation making her head spin. She took a deep breath, feeling the delicious alcohol sliding down her throat. She glanced at the bound man again, and couldn't help but admire his hard, masculine figure.

"You… well, you are right. It must have escaped my attention," she drank her whole flute in one big gulp and reached for another, that Mrs Rothbard was offering. "Yes, silly me. Well, it's a lovely party, Petunia dear, congratulations! And… who is our guest? I assume he…"

"He will be our main attraction, of course, but you don't know him yet, Pamela," obviously not, she'd never even looked at such an incredible piece of male meat before. "His name isn't important, I mean, he is just a disposable cock for Lily to ride, but it would be difficult to call he it the whole night… So, let's see… Something fitting… Remus? Romulus? Romulus! That's a nice name for our plaything. Want to know something funny, Pamela?"

Pamela's head was spinning so fast she had to circle her arm against Mrs Rothbard's waist just to keep standing up. Kimberly had such a sweet smell emanating from her golden hair, she just wanted to bury her face in it.

"Oh, do tell!"

"You know how they say all men are just wolves? Well, with this one is certainly true!"

Laughter spread through the room, and Pamela found it impossible to resist, giggling away, still half hugging, half groping Kimberly.

"And where is the future mommy?" she asked, feeling the alcohol doing wonders to soothe her nerves. In fact, she didn't even remember why she had been nervous in the first place. Weren't they all best friends? And, well, Kimberly was looking at her in a way that suggested they could be even more before the night ended. Also, those shrimp dumplings were delicious! She would have to beg Petunia for the recipe.

"She is upstairs, you know, getting the jitters. Let me fetch her."

Petunia walked away, and Pamela was shoved in a sofa, where Kimberly landed a moment later. The blonde's breath was sweet and spicy all at once, making Pamela shiver when that little red mouth almost touched her earlobe while she whispered.

"Can you even imagine having a thing that huge inside you?"

She couldn't. The man grunted, pulling the chain. Some of the more bold women were around him now, stroking his muscles and dragging their long, sharp nails the length of his member, blowing on his neck and playfully slapping his taut buttocks.

"Mark isn't even half of it, I think it would rip me apart" she didn't know why she admitted that, as she was perfectly happy with her marriage. Maybe it was Kim rubbing the stretch of naked skin at the back of her dress, the woman's fingertips tracing trails of goosebumps on her pale skin. She drank from her flute, feeling like a teenage girl on her first date.

"Well, my husband isn't short, but I don't think it would be a smooth ride on that schlong. That doesn't mean I won't ask for some, you know!"

She giggled, but Pamela's mind was slow on the uptake.

"Ask for some?"

"Oh, Pam, didn't you hear Pet? Romulus is the party entertainment tonight. I just hope he has enough juice to keep up with everybody here."

Pamela felt dread spreading through her stomach. She eyed the trunk-like appendage that someone (from the back, it was hard to say, maybe it was Emmeline Vance from Number 17?) was furiously masturbating. The man was struggling against the binding chain, grunting loud, his legs flying from side to side, his muscles rippling. The other women were observing the spectacle, the ones touching him were rubbing themselves on his back and arms, kissing his exposed neck and tonguing his nape. Romulus trembled even stronger, his buttocks clenching and his arms tightening…

Emmeline let him go with a harsh movement, the others stepping away. A clear dollop of lubricant fluid travelled from the tip of his twitching length down to the metal ring at the base, but that was all the release he obtained. The man grunted like an animal, his strong arms pulling so hard on his bind Pamela feared the rafter would give in. The idea of what he would do with them if that happened made her shiver in Kim's arms. The woman was kissing her neck, the alcohol made her head spin, a heat spreading from her core to her head, she wanted so hard to get out of the tight dress…

"Attention, attention!" called Petunia, descending from the stairs, her sister in tow, the dark-haired woman covered in a long black bathrobe. "Let's show our appreciation to the future mother!"

The guests burst in applauses and some catcalls, Kim whistled loudly, while Pamela clapped excitedly. The air shifted, something interesting was just about to start and they all could sense it.

Petunia walked to the centre of the living room, the women stepping away and forming a circle around her. Lily stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking a little bit nervous, a whole lot excited. The crazy hunger was back in her eyes, even from the other side of the room Pamela could see it. She was fidgeting with her lip piercing, rubbing the tip of her tongue over it, or carefully biting on it. It was sexy, just like Kim's hands grazing over her breasts. Like a show-woman, Petunia stood beside the man, her red nails nailing his back, dragging down smoothly and sadistically, welts of an angry scarlet opening in their trail, red blood thinly flowing from them. The man roared like a caged animal, but couldn't move at all, as if stuck in place by her mere presence. Pamela could feel wetness spreading to her panties and dress.

"Thank you all for sharing this moment with us tonight!" Petunia started, raising her flute of champagne. "Tonight, my sister will start on the path of healing, fulfilling a promise I made to her just about a month ago. Tonight, we will show her the beauty of love, the warmth of family and the greatness of sharing. So, with no further ado, let's start the show! Ladies, please."

Emmeline Vance and three other women dragged, pushed and baited Lily forward, her half-shaved head moving from side to side, laughing and playing with her "captors". Other pushed Vernon's armchair in front of the bound man, just a few feet away from him. He growled when the group passed by him, testing hardly on his bond, but they ignored the chained man.

The punk beauty was pushed down on the armchair, and the girls pressed down her arms, keeping her immobile. Petunia sashayed forward, like a tigress stalking her prey, sliding in Lily's lap. She took the bathrobe belt in her hand and yanked hard, removing it in a swift movement, then raised her arm, showing it to the room, the women cheering loudly. She lowered her head until she could look Lily in the eye, then threw herself forward, capturing her own sister's lips in a deep and harsh kiss.

The girls around divested the black-haired woman from her bathrobe, flinging it away. Pamela, who had to approach the scene like the rest of the guests, gasped when she realised she still hadn't seen all the piercings the woman sported. Her nipples were adorned with little horizontal bars, and there was a vertical one protruding from her clitoral hood, she couldn't see it properly as Petunia's hand slid down in front of it, two fingers plunging inside her baby sister.

Petunia left Lily's gasping mouth and moved away, dragging the robe belt with her. The girls moved in, grasping Lily's legs and raising them, pinning them against her own shoulders, her cunt opening obscenely. There were cute black ribbons tattooed on the back of her legs, just under her bubble butt. Pamela dragged a finger over one of them, feeling the warm, sweaty skin. Emmeline was kissing the woman.

Petunia circled the man and used the belt to viciously whip Romulus's back, laughing maniacally when the first welts appeared on the scarred skin. By the sadistic gleam in her eye, Pamela had to wonder if the man was chosen randomly, or if the redhead was using the party to get revenge from something the man had done. Kim grasped her head, hard, and turned her face so they could kiss. Every thought fled the woman for a while.

When she came back from the heated kiss, Petunia had finished the torture session and zipped open the mask, revealing his mouth. His tongue was lolling out, the man seemed a little insane from all stimulation and pain. She grasped the back of the mask and roughly pulled his head backwards, before pouring the contents of her flute down his throat. Most of it splashed around, but enough entered him for her to release her grip.

The man started to growl like an animal, pulling even harder on the chain, every muscle in his body becoming taut, thick veins popping out on his neck. The rafter groaned loudly, and Pamela felt fear and excitement, so huge and so intricate she couldn't find where one ended and the other started. The man was drooling, the zipper still open and flailing on his head. Petunia went behind him and touched the shackles.

Like a silver wolf jumping on his prey, the beast leapt forward, his still chained hands grasping the black-haired woman's tiny waist. He plunged hard into her, making her gasp loudly, a gasp turned into a moan as he gave away to the most basic instincts and trusted like a possessed monster, droll and champagne spilling from his clenched teeth. He trusted into her with so much force that the women around them had to keep pressing her down so the armchair wouldn't topple over. There were six of them, Emmeline and Mary almost behind the chair, holding her legs up by the long thin heels of her shoes, Selma and Lauren pawning her huge tits with one hand and keeping her hips pressed down with the other, and Pamela and Kim at each side of the men, grasping the arms of the chair and her shapely butt. The sounds, the smell and the pure raw presence of the act were making Pamela sweat profusely, her eyes almost glazed on Kim's.

The woman moaned loudly, thrusting her hips forward to meet the beast's, her sharp black nails ripping the arms of the chair, her lips smashed sometimes by Emmeline, sometimes by Mary, black lipstick smeared on their mouths, her sweaty hair tangled in Mary's fingers, the woman pulling it hard and viciously in time with every thrust. Petunia stood behind the man and started whipping him again with the belt, tipping the beast into a frenzy of pain and pleasure. Under him, the woman was screaming.

Pamela was relieved of her position after some minutes, another woman taking her place at Lily's side, slapping the beauty's buttocks and urging her on. Pamela fell in the arms of another woman, a brunette she had never met before. They kissed heatedly, her dress falling to her feet and kicked away, their legs tangling when they fell on the sofa where two girls were already making out. Pamela was pushed down, sliding to her knees on the fluffy carpet, and hesitated for a moment.

"Come on, hon, don't tell me you never munched on a woman before?"

She hadn't, but before she could say so, the woman poured champagne over her own belly, the liquid sliding down her navel and over her sex, the smell of alcohol and excitement enticing Pamela. The music was loud, the grunts and moans were louder, she couldn't even remember her own name, so she dipped her tongue and tried her best to drink everything.

After so many minutes, she was distracted from her duty by the cheers around her. Raising her head and turning back, she saw that Lily was still under the man meat, but she had grown annoyed by his endurance to cum. She was glistering in sweat, red thin welts on her breasts and buttocks where the girls had been scratching her skin with their nails, a red flush on her face. Petunia was behind the chair now, her hands grasping the thin heels to keep her in position, her red lips whispering in her sister's ear. Suddenly, the black-haired woman lunged forward, the bathrobe belt in her hand.

She slapped the belt on his neck, the other end circling the thick meat like a whip, her other hand flying forward and catching it. Her clenched teeth showing in a savage smile, she strangled the man fucking her with all her might, her tattooed arms taunting and bulging with the effort. The beast was so crazy that didn't even try to grab the rope, instead, he pounded even harder, making the entire armchair groan with the violence, the girls cheering for the mad woman under him. His neck was thickening, every muscle popping out to fight the rope until it was too much. The belt ripped in two, flinging her arms away when the force keeping them taunt disappeared. She cried aloud, and the monster finally creamed in her with a primal growl.

Whatever was in the champagne that Petunia kept flowing around them, it kept the beast hard and mad. His neck was crossed by an angry red mark where Lily tried to strangle him, and his purple and red cock was still stony and pulsating madly when he disengaged from her with a loud pop. The woman had cum again when he spilt into her, and looked tired and battered, sprawled on the armchair. Emmeline Vance, seizing the opportunity, kicked his legs from under him, making him crash loudly on the floor, then lowered herself on his cock, ripping her dress after every inch was inside her.

Pamela's partner was making out with another woman, her partner's fingers rubbing circles on her sex, but she didn't have to wait long before finding another one. Mary was wild and hot, bucking against her when they rubbed their cores together. Someone was keeping her somewhat upright, she could feel big breasts pressing on her back, but had no idea who was it, and it didn't matter. After Mary, she had a round with Tina Brooks, a younger black woman, barely out of her teens, who had moved to Privet Drive six months before. After that was an unknown ginger who fingered her hard enough for her to black out for some minutes, and then she was the one on the chair.

The beast towered over her, and she felt fear and excitement again. Petunia was smiling at her, so beautiful and kind, and Kim held her heels pointing to the ceiling. Other girls had taken the beast from behind, like bitches in heat, but she thanked whoever had pushed her in that more normal position. She wanted to see the huge thing spearing her wet cunt.

It was painful, but the pain ebbed fast, leaving just the burning pleasure. She never imagined a woman could feel so much pleasure, but the brute ravaging her insides proved her wrong, making her brain explode time after time, each thrust pushing her higher and higher. She felt thirsty and, as if foreseeing it, Kim brought a flute of champagne to her lips. She drank greedily, but most of it dripped down her chin. Kim grasped Pamela's small breasts and clenched her fingers, her nails painfully and deliciously biting her skin, a fire-hot tongue lapping the spilt alcohol, from her belly to her nipples, from her nipples to her collar, to her chin. They kissed deeply, tasting every drink and every lover they had so far. Pamela shrieked her release, and Kim held her lovingly, waiting for the trembling to pass, before attacking her abused lips again.

The monster took an eternity to cum, and she couldn't even think straight, even more, ask for him to do it outside her sensitive and quite red pussy. It was a good thing the party was winding down already, as no one removed her from the armchair. Kim stayed with her, cuddling and fingering her in alternate bursts, already full to the brim with the beast's spunk. She had been one of the first ones to have a ride, just like she wanted.

The seed was dripping from her, and she had no idea what to do. She had felt the strength and the voracity of that beast of a man. She was on the pill, but Pamela was totally sure she was pregnant again, by a man she hadn't even seen the face. The force of that seed wouldn't allow any other result. Her legs trembled with the aftershocks of her last orgasm, and she couldn't even say how many she had already. For a woman who had none before that night, it meant a lot. Someone kneeled in front of her, and she felt a mouth sealing against her, trying to suck the cum out of her.

"Nooo," mumbled her, using her bare feet to push her away, gently. "Mine, it's mine."

She felt Kim's breath even out behind her, and the woman she had pushed was now sleeping on the floor, naked. Pamela urged her tired body to get up, her husband should have arrived already. She needed to explain… Scratch that, she needed to fuck him, fast, so he wouldn't suspect when her pregnancy started to show. But the thought of letting that tiny dick worm inside her again, after just getting the ride of her life on that monster… Well, she would worry about that later. Feeling another aftershock cursing through her abused body, she cupped her hands against her opening so no more spunk would fall and waste. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Bella was having trouble keeping upright, half because of the alcohol, half because her cunt was on fire after the rough treatment. While every girl had her share, it was her baby's shower, after all, so she rode the dick carrousel five times that night. The heels were killing her, the whole body protesting against such abuse. For years to come, wondered her, that would be the day she was certain she had entrusted her body, mind and soul to her Goddess.

Lily was at her worktable, writing. There was a stash of parchment to the side, every sheet filled with the redhead's tiny, loopy handwriting. Bella approached slowly, placing each step carefully. The whole room was spinning. Lily turned her chair when she heard movement. She was naked, sweaty and happy, and Bella's heart soared with how beautiful her Goddess was. Her knees gave away, but it was okay, she had reached her objective. She steadied herself by grasping Lily's knees, before dipping her tongue on Lily's folds. The Goddess tangled her fingers in her sweaty black hair, caressing. Bella resisted the urge to purr like a contented cat. Her Goddess was harsh and loving, all at once, all of the time.

"What about the body?"

Bella raised her glistening lips.

"I put him in the basement, for now."

"Good, we can drive him home tomorrow, after you recover a little. How was your baby's shower?"

"I loved it, my Goddess."

"Hum, I bet you did. Ooh, right there. I knew it was a great idea to pierce your tongue."

Bella was too occupied to answer.

"Did you ride him?"

The black-haired woman raised five fingers. Lily chuckled.

"No, Bella. Did you ride him while you were killing him?"

Bella bit her gently, giving all the answer she needed. Lily laughed out loud that time.

"So, I was thinking about Selene, what do you think about it?"

Bella raised her head, her chin dripping. She knew her Goddess was almost to the tipping point, so she raised her hand so her fingers would continue the job.

"I… I was thinking about continuing tradition… My family all give names from stars and constellations to our children… I was, you know, I wanted Cassiopeia if it were a girl, and Arcturus, like my Uncle, if it were a boy…"

Lily buckled against her hand.

"No, Bella, I was talking about our project. Selene, as the author. You can follow your traditions. Ohh, right there. But… Arcturus? You liked him?"

"He always gave me a chocolate toad after I blown him when I was little. I liked him the most from all my family. It was a pity I had to kill both of them last week, so Sirius could inherit after leaving Azkaban."

"It was… oooh, it was necess—oh my—ssary. I hope you forgive me, Bella."

"How could I even get mad at you, my Goddess? Your word is the law for me. Forever. You fulfilled your promises to me, you kept me out of prison, you even removed the marking from my fake master from my arm. I gave you my life, that night, and I won't betray you, never."

"Use your mouth on your Goddess, them, little Bella. I want to feel the stud again."

It took just a few minutes before Lily buckled again and released her nectar in Bella's mouth. She drank it happily, her hand over her belly. Her Goddess had taught her so much, in so little time. But, above all, she taught Bellatrix that every woman was a temple for the Goddess, and every child was an Apostle even inside the womb. No matter if boy or girl, Bella knew she would love the baby, and she knew the baby would learn to worship her Goddess that gave them life and a safe place to live. In her heart of hearts, however, she really hoped for a girl, as she had been crazy for one since she discovered herself pregnant the first time before the fake master had ripped her daughter from her. Maybe she would ask the Goddess for some intervention, she knew there was a potion the Pureblood used to make sure a male heir would be born, even if the woman died in childbirth because of it. Maybe she could brew something new, something wonderful. Only the thought of it excited her again, so she lowered her mouth for another session of worshipping.

Lily gripped her head, hard and mean, before using her toes to rub Bella's abused pussy. That was her Goddess, harsh and loving, all at once. She licked the ring in her lip, feeling her taste in the metal.

"Selene, I like it."