Warnings:
Orgy × Read the Title × Dubious Consent × Rape/Non-con Elements × Implied/Referenced Incest × Mpreg × Impregnation × Gangbang × Trans Luna Lovegood × Rough Sex × Rough Oral Sex × Non-Consensual Somnophilia × Teacher-Student Relationship × Comeplay × Shameless Smut × Gratuitous Smut × Drugged Sex × Forced Orgasm × Degradation × Cock Slut Harry x year 6 AU x Half-blood prince
Ignore these and I will laugh at you when you bitch about them.
Dec 20th, 1996
"I can't believe you don't want to take your boyfriend to Slughorn's Christmas party." Hermione needled at him in a half-whisper, glancing over her shoulder.
Nearby stood Madam Pince, who was glaring at a cluster of third years (one of which had laughed in her library, the audacity). The uptight crone was just waiting for an excuse to give someone the boot. Hermione ducked behind her dusty tome when Madam Pince looked their way, though her bushy hair was still visible over the top.
Harry mentally groaned. Letting Hermione think he had a boyfriend was coming back to haunt him. It had seemed so simple at the time, an easy explanation for why Harry would go off on his own during Hogsmeade weekends, disappearing for hours at a time.
In his defense, lying about having a 'boyfriend' was easier because — "hey I'm just going to the Hog's Head to let random skeevy wizards fuck me blind while wearing a hood so that the barkeep doesn't release his incriminating photos of me screwing the twins (and countless other wizards now), don't wait up!" — didn't exactly roll off the tongue.
"I already let you talk me into going in the first place, I'm not letting you talk me into another crazy idea-" Harry grumbled over his potions homework. The Prince's notes were helpful in class, but using them to write an essay was a bloody nightmare. Maybe if Harry actually understood potions… "Tell you what, I'll take my boyfriend if you talk to Ron."
"Fat chance," Hermione growled behind her book.
Still a sore subject then.
They both took care not to talk about Ron in the last several weeks.
Ever since the Gryffindor victory party, Ron had been literally hip-deep in Lavender Brown as often as he could manage, it seemed. The number of times Harry had walked in on Ron driving his cock as deep as humanly possible into Lavender's cunt was unreal.
And frustratingly arousing. Harry knew firsthand how full a Weasley cock could make you feel.
But the thought of fucking Ron on the other hand was just…weird.
Even for Harry.
Hermione had a different opinion on the matter. Harry suspected that part of her still wished it was her in Lavender's place, which seemed to be a very confusing thing for Hermione because technically she was dating Luna.
"Technically"—that was the word Hermione used.
Harry didn't know what the fuck that even meant.
"I just think it would be good for you to have a date for the party. Not that it's a problem, you going with me and Luna," Hermione peaked over the top of her book at him, "Only I don't want to make you feel like a third wheel…or something."
"Thanks I think?"
"And maybe if people saw with someone, you know, with someone, maybe Romilda Vane wouldn't keep trying to send you love potions."
"Do love potions even work if you aren't attracted to that person's gender?" Harry mussed as he turned a few pages in his potions book. The Prince would know the answer to that.
"Harry, the whole point of a love potion is to magically alter a person's feelings and desires. It's meant to override who you are. That's why it's ILLEGAL—"
"SHHH!" Madame Pince glided past them, staring pointedly at Hermione, who ducked behind her book again, her face beet-red.
"I'm not putting a target on anyone else's back, Hermione, we've talked about this. Anyway, it's just a party. You walk around, drink some punch, talk to people, and after a couple of hours you can leave. What's the worst that could happen?"
With that, Harry dove back into his half-brilliant, half-hopeless potions essay, absently wondering if the Prince had ever gotten laid. No one could be this good at potions and still have the time to get his cock wet.
##############
Dec. 21st 1996: Slug Club Christmas Party
Luna's "Hello Hermione" was the only warning Harry got before arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders from behind, nearly throttling him. "He is driving me mad." Hermione whispered fiercely behind clenched teeth.
"Who, Ron?"
"What? No, why would Ron be here, Harry?" Hermione released him abruptly, as though she were disgusted with Harry for even suggesting it. She stepped around him to stand by Luna, wand in hand, directing all three goblets of punch she was levitating towards each of them. Levitation was how she had ferried the drinks through the people — Slug Club alumni and current members — clustered here and there throughout the room. "Cormac. Daft prick still won't leave off. If I hadn't already been coming along with the drinks, I'd have hexed him for harassment."
"Try saying that five times fast."
"What was that?"
"Nothing, nothing." Harry took a long sip of punch to hide his smile at his stupid joke.
Hermione took a swig from her own goblet and promptly choked on it. "Oh no," she groaned, staring over Harry's shoulder. "He's coming this way. Come with me, love. Here—" she carefully took Luna's goblet away from her lips, absently brushing at a stray drop rolling down Luna's chin. "Harry, I'm sorry, but could you deal with Cormac? Please?"
Not waiting for an actual answer, Hermione pressed her and Luna's drinks into Harry's hands and dragged Luna away into the crowd towards what seemed to be a sort of dancing area, leaving Harry to gape after them, wondering if this was what a third wheel felt like.
"Harry, mate. Where on earth did your foxy little friend go?"
Resigned, Harry sighed and turned to face the self-appointed "sex god" of Gryffindor. "She's on a date. With her girlfriend," Harry said pointedly.
This didn't seem to put off Cormac though. "Hngghh…It's that Lovegood girl from Ravenclaw, right? Cute thing, bit on the weird side? Sexy…Wouldn't mind getting 'em both into bed," he leered. "Think they'd be up for it?"
A wave of nausea hit Harry at the thought. "No," he said quite decidedly and sure. "Very much, no. However…" Harry's eye had wandered behind Cormac. In the corner of the room, was Ginny and Dean. Between the distance and all the talking, Harry couldn't hear what was being said, but from the way Ginny was waving her arms about, a stormy look on her face, the two were fighting (again). Harry got distracted by the scene, silently watching as Dean stormed off and left her standing there, clearly fuming.
"However," Harry said, a plan taking shape in his mind. "I do believe Ginny just became available." -though when wasn't she?- "A strapping guy like you might just be the thing to cheer her up." He nodded over Cormac's shoulder.
A wolfish grin stretch across Cormac's face as he eyed Ginny. "You know, Potter," he turned back to Harry and clapped him on the shoulder, "you're alright. Don't wait up." He gave Harry a saucy wink and a last, hearty whack on the shoulder then sauntered off in Ginny's direction, slouching against the wall beside her.
Apparently, Ginny had been watching them, because she looked from Cormac to Harry with a raised eyebrow.
Merry Christmas, Harry mouthed, raising his goblet to her in a mock toast.
Things between Harry and Ginny might be tense, what with Harry having slept with the twins and her dad and the whole blackmailing thing she'd responded with (doing her level-best to make Harry die from sexual frustration), but even she didn't seem to want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
With a smoldering grin, Ginny closed the scant distance between herself and Cormac, sliding a hand down his chest, down down—
Harry shook his head and turned away.
Teasing bitch. That's what being nice will get you.
The group of dancers had grown somewhat, but if Harry squinted, he could still make out Luna and Hermione amongst them, arms wrapped around each other, slowly swaying, completely out of time with the beat of the music without a care in the world. Something deep within Harry ached, watching them, and he turned away.
Sighing to himself, he abandoned their goblets on a nearby table and went in search of the buffet table.
Definitely a third wheel, he decided.
#################
Harry was nearly to the buffet when he was jerked back against someone's very squishy side.
"There you are, Harry, m' boy!" Slughorn boomed in his ear, slurring just a bit. "Come along now, I've so many fine people simply dying to meet you."
A large hand wrapped around his waist, holding him fast, leaving him little choice but to be frog-marched all around the room, hardly walking more than a few feet before being introduced to this accomplished witch or that interesting wizard. Lucky him, they all were "simply enchanted" to meet Harry, shaking his hand and smiling large, simpering grins.
Harry got so overwhelmed he started counting teeth to stay sane.
His face started to hurt from holding the polite smile as he was introduced to—
"Meet Benjamin Raste. Benny here works in the Ministry's International Department as a Liaison, constantly flying to America the Muggle way because portkeys disagree with him. Can you imagine? Very daring—
"This is Tilda Basherton, the Prophet's lead reporter, always on the hunt for a good scoop, am I righ', Tilda? This one is taken, I'm afraid!" Slughorn gave Harry a rough shake that made his glasses go a bit askew. Slughorn chortled at his own (terrible) joke, sloshing his goblet full of 'punch'. "Though I might be willing to share if your wife can get me in touch with the designer that new racing broom. Landed the Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, Tilda did."—
"Oh! There you are, Arnie, wonderful to see you again. Arnie Hespot. Puts his Potions NEWTS to good use with his skin care inventions, always coming out with a new miracle cream or hair tonic. He's kind enough to send me samples of his latest concoctions. Wish I knew how he came up with half his ideas, I personally struggle to come up with one new idea a decade!"—
And so on and so forth. Everyone was so interesting and accomplished and there were so many of them that the whole escapade was making Harry's head swim. Faces and names blurred, almost instantly forgotten, as were their little claims to fame.
Not even Slughorn's subtle gropes were holding Harry's attention anymore in the face of it all, and that was saying something, especially since the odd hip-squeeze or bum-pinch or nipple-tweak out in public would have been enough to get Harry hard on a good day. But between the rather lazy molestation of his person and the utter slog of people he didn't know (people that he quite frankly didn't want to know), Harry's attention began to wander, wishing he was in his bed in Gryffindor Tower alone with his toys.
At least his toys had a chance of keeping him hard.
After nearly an hour of this, Harry saw an opportunity to escape when a devastatingly beautiful witch approached the professor for a hug.
"Pro-fess-or, dear! How are you?" The witch drawled, swooped down on Slughorn. She engulfed him in a big hug. Her delicate arms looked ridiculous around his stout frame.
Slughorn had released Harry to embrace her. Harry didn't hesitate, ducking away into the crowds, thankful for his slim Seeker build which allowed him to dart his way clear across the room to safety in no time.
At last, he made it to the buffet table.
Fucking finally.
The buffet table was more entertaining than most of Slughorn's guests, in Harry's opinion. Plates of food had been charmed to wander about the table on spindly legs, the dishes clinking softly against each other as they gathered close to the edge, trying to tempt passersby. Some of the dishes had started to fight each other as Harry looked from one to another, unsure if it was safe to reach for that yummy looking pastry or if he'd lose his hand in the process.
"I'm surprised Horace left you to your own devices."
Harry started, tearing his gaze away from a plate of eclairs tap-dancing perilously close to the table's edge.
A witch Harry had yet to meet (despite Professor Slughorn's very dedicated efforts to make the entire room acquainted with him) stood at his shoulder. She was dark skinned and very pretty, her hair charmed to levitate in elaborate curls that moved when she did but as if they were in water.
"Huh? Oh- well, he didn't exactly let me, I sort of managed to slip away when he was distracted."
Her laugh was a soft, pleasant sound that instantly made Harry like her. "Yes, that does sound like him. My husband's mother has many stories of being little more than eye candy while 'making the rounds', so to speak. It must be very overwhelming."
"A bit yeah...sorry, I didn't get your name?"
"Cornwaella McGinty." She smiled warmly. "But everyone calls me Corny. Terrible name for a witch, I'll thank my mother for that. I'm hoping to do better by my daughter, when she comes finally along." She patted her tummy, which Harry only now realized was protruding rather far away from her person.
She was pregnant. Her robes were well-tailored to flatter her fuller figure, which was how he hadn't initially noticed it, but now that he did, the round curve was all he could see.
The heavy curve of her belly felt like the only thing in the room that mattered.
Harry knew he was staring, but he couldn't tear his gaze away. For some reason, he felt mesmerized, drawn to it.
He reached out before he remembered himself, withdrawing almost immediately.
The witch — Corny —noticed.
"Would you like to feel her?"
Harry wrenched his gaze away from her heavy belly up to her face. She was watching him with a soft, understanding smile, undaunted by Harry's awkwardness. "Here—" she took his hand and Harry could only watch as she brought it to splay against her belly. A scant layer of taut skin and muscle, that was all that separated Harry's hand from the baby within.
A baby that kicked at his touch.
Harry froze, his face going slack with shock.
He knew this feeling, but not like this. It was…like something from a dream. Or a phantom memory. But wrong, the angle was wrong and something was missing. He should be feeling the tightness and faint squirming from the inside too, shouldn't he, not just under his hand?
But how could that be?
Absently, Harry brought his other hand to rest on his own belly, rubbing, feeling the upraised ribbons of the deeper scars that trailed from his sides. He could feel them even through his clothes, faint, but he knew where each one of them was, had spent hours with his shirt off, running his hands over them.
Something niggled at the back of his mind, like something forgotten trying to resurface, accompanied by a sense of loss and horror and longing that Harry couldn't place because he didn't understand what he was feeling.
Why would he be scared of a baby?
One hand rested on the swell of the witch's belly, the other on his flat, empty stomach.
The babies were gone.
What did that even mean?
"Um, Mr. Potter?" Corny cocked her head, trying to catch his eye. "Are you alright? You look a bit faint."
"I'm- I'm fine." He wasn't fine. He very much wasn't. Something was wrongwrongwrong, but what was wrong?
The babies were gone.
What did it mean?
"Corny?" A wizard squeezed his way out of the crowd, his hair fell in artful red waves to his shoulders. He was as beautiful as Cornwaella was. "Time to go, I think—" He caught sight Harry, hand still pressed to Cornwaella's baby bump. "What—?"
"I think I overwhelmed him, poor dear." Corny gave the man — clearly her husband — a sheepish look. Gently, Corny removed Harry's hand from her body.
Harry's arm dropped limply to his side, touching nothing, yet it was as though he could still feel it, the curve of her expecting belly—of his belly—
What did that mean?
—under his hand. He rubbed at his scars again.
Why did he feel so empty?
"Is he alright?"
"I- I think so-?" Corny watched Harry apprehensively. She turned back to her husband. "You wanted to go—?"
The man shook his head a little, remembering himself. "Yes, we should. Slughorn recommended we depart before the party gets too underway. Come along."
The pair squeezed into the crowd, leaving Harry standing by the table of impatiently dancing hors d'oeuvres, alone and feeling it quite keenly.
A drink was pressed into his hand by someone, a waiter, there and gone again. He had no idea what was in the goblet. He drank it anyway, feeling parched.
What was wrong with him?
Harry's head swam. He rubbed his belly absently as he took long pulls of whatever was in the glass. He ran his tongue over his lips, his teeth, chasing the sweet, cloying taste. His head swam a little more, then a lot more.
Was the room always this warm?
He shrugged out of his dress robes (he didn't remember setting his goblet down, not that it mattered), letting them fall to the ground. The muggle clothing he wore beneath soon joined his robes on the floor.
Had he always been this hard? His cock was swollen, dripping. He touched it because he wanted to, stroking his cock slowly, unhurried.
His head swam, vision blurring. He looked around. A lot of people were either naked or getting there. Bodies undulated against each other, moans began to echo against the stone walls, the air thickening with the musky scent of sex.
Harry stroked his cock.
He felt fine.
################
Cormack groaned, fingers tightening around Ginny's hips, threatening to bruise them. Fuck, she was tight (he didn't know how, when she routinely spread her legs for nearly any Gryffindor who'd have her). She was bouncing on his cock — which was fucking hot in itself, but she was doing it here at Slughorn's Christmas party, surrounded by people doing the exact same thing, snogging and sucking and getting off in all manner of ways.
Cormac was thoroughly enjoying himself.
Not long after a new round of drinks were brought out, the party devolved into an orgy.
It just...seemed to happen.
One minute, it was mingling and chatting to all of the influential people Slughorn had invited and then robes were being shucked, legs spread, partners sharing and rotating.
He palmed Ginny's tits, loving how they felt in his hand, so soft and heavy, jiggling every time he fucked into Ginny's cunt. As good as Cormac felt, he was also wound up, like a coiled spring, and yet oddly...high, almost outside himself, like he was experiencing everything from two different views. It was strange.
Was it something in the punch? Everyone had been pressed to at least try it (such a good idea, tasted fucking amazing).
Maybe he was drugged?
Cormac really didn't care right now. He didn't care about anything.
He lolled his head back, relaxing in the huge armchair he and Ginny had claimed, watching students and graduates having a good time. He blinked a few times when his eyes landed on Potter. Zambini had him pressed against a wall, the tall black boy whispering something into Potter's ear that had him flushed and squirming against the cage of the Slytherin's body, pushing back onto that big black cock.
Cormac grinned. Maybe after he was done with Ginny, he'd have a piece of the chosen one.
Ginny noticed where his attention had wandered.
"Harry is off limits," she growled forcing him to look at her with a tight grip on his chin.
"You don't control who I fuck, Gin."
"I do if you want to keep your knob." Ginny glared, her hips slamming down almost violently, taking him hard.
How could he argue with that?
################
"Word is that Malfoy has had you, Potter."
"Malfoy raped me" Harry choked out, shuddering as Zambini's thick cock slid in and out, nice and slow, as though he had all the time in the world to fuck Harry. Fuck, it felt good..."I didn't ask the slimy git for anything."
"You don't seem to be making much of a fuss right now. Or is that your thing? Play hard to get then sing as loud as you want once you get a cock in you?" Zambini drove in hard to the hilt, making Harry groan, picking up speed now that Harry was getting vocal. "You'd have the time of your life in our house, Potter. You know how many of us want to tie you down and shut you up? Cock after cock, that's what it would be, Potter, just cock after cock reaming you open and shutting you up. You wouldn't have time to lie and say you don't want it. We'd just line up and fuck you for hours. "
Harry bucked back against Zambini, wanting it, him, and every filthy thing the boy had said. "Please!"
"You- You want that?"
"Fuck yes!"
Zambini pulled out. "Come on." He dragged Harry through the crowd of people milling about in groups, little groups of gangbangs and partnering couples fucking themselves silly. He didn't care that his cock was still out, bobbing heavily with every step. The problem came when the door wouldn't open. Not even for an alohamora.
They were all trapped inside.
"Party stays here, lads," said some wizard getting his knob blown at a table nearby. "Best to ride it out here."
Zambini cursed under his breath.
"Blaise!"
He scanned the crowd until he saw Malfoy, hiding behind the door of a nearby half-open closet. Potter barely struggled as Zambini tugged him to it, Malfoy closing the door behind them, cutting off most of the lewd din filling the main room.
"I don't know what the hell was in that punch, but someone needs to nick the recipe from Slughorn." Malfoy eyed Potter's naked body, his dripping cock.
"You don't know the half of it." Zambini manhandled Potter to face the door, bracing him against it as he drove his cock back into Potter's tight hole.
Potter groaned low in his throat, head thrown back, like he'd fucking missed it.
Zambini took up a pace that nearly drove himself mad. Slow slide out, hard and fast in, slow slide out. His balls slapped against Potter's unfairly nice ass. He felt perfect. "The Chosen One," Zambini sneered, "is a slut. I told him how Slytherin House would put him through his paces and he just spread his legs even wider, practically begged for it!"
Potter groaned, back arching even deeper, wailing when Zambini got the angle just right.
Malfoy came around, leaning up against the door beside Potter. "Like that Potter? How does it compare to mine?"
"Did you really have this ass, Draco, or are you just blowing smoke up a giantess's skirt?"
"Oh I fucked him alright." Malfoy skimmed his hand across the stretch marks on Harry's belly, feeling the insistent prodding of Zambini's cock battering at Potter's insides. "Had him on the train after I caught him listening in on us. Sneaky little spy." He fisted a hand in Potter's unruly mop of hair, yanking the Gryffindor's head back to further expose Potter's throat. "Isn't that right, Potter?" Malfoy lunged, biting at that pristine, fragile skin, marking it up with purple hickeys that stood out on Potter's pale skin.
"Ahh!" Zambini drove deep and went still, eyes squeezed closed, panting against the slick curve of Potter's back. When he pulled out, his seed followed, dripping from Potter's used hole to the closet floor.
"My turn." Malfoy spotted a chair in the far corner under a heap of what looked like old rags. His nose scrunched up, mildly offended at the sight. A quick flourish of banishment and cleaning charms had the chair mostly serviceable for his needs.
Malfoy sat in the chair, undoing his robes enough to release his hard cock. "Come here, Potter."
Zambini leaned against the wall to watch. He was still mostly dressed in his robes, but his cock was on full display, unflagging despite his recent orgasm.
They really needed to nick the punch recipe.
Potter turned to face Malfoy, gaze drawn immediately to the hard cock standing proudly from Malfoy's well-tailored robes.
Malfoy had barely opened his mouth before Potter's was on his cock, sucking at him like a man starved, falling to his knees hard enough to make Malfoy wince as teeth grazed his length. Malfoy slapped at Potter's face. "Watch the teeth, Chosen One," he sneered.
Whether it was the punch or just a kink Potter had, the Gryffindor took Malfoy all the way down to the root and groaned, throat working Malfoy in ways that Pansy had yet to achieve.
"Merlin!" Malfoy's eyes rolled back, gasping for breath as Potter worked him. Pansy was nowhere near this good. He was so close to the edge and Potter—
Potter pulled off of Malfoy's cock with a gasp, back arching, coming completely untouched all over himself and the floor.
Malfoy and Zambini gaped at the sight.
Potter shook, still hard.
"Lick it up."
Potter looked up at him, dazed.
"I said, lick it up, Scarhead." Malfoy stared him down, willing the Gryffindor to bend, to yield—
Potter whimpered. Still shaking, he braced himself on all fours, bent forward and—laved his tongue across the cum-splattered floor.
"Fuck. Fuck!" Orgasm hit Malfoy out of nowhere and he came, jerking his cock frantically as he splattered Potter's hair and back, a fat glob dribbling to the floor between his feet.
Potter licked that up too.
Malfoy slumped in the chair, eyeing the streaks of cum drying on Potter's skin. He wanted to rub it in, make the Golden Boy reek of sex for days.
Malfoy could get used to this.
Zambini surged away from the wall. Kneeling behind Potter, Zambini lined himself up and thrust in.
Potter cried out, rearing back up to his hands and knees. His body shook for a different reason now.
Watching Potter come undone just from sucking cock and then licking cum off the floor had brought out a need in Zambini. He needed to have that ass again. Gone was the teasing pace Zambini had used before. Now, he fucked Potter in powerful thrusts, burying himself to the hilt, in and out again as fast as he could manage. His bruising grip wasn't enough to keep Potter in place. The frantic claiming drove Potter forward, practically into Malfoy's lap.
Potter's eyes were wide. He stared up at Malfoy as he took every inch Zambini gave him, crying out every time Zambini bottomed out. Tears ran down his face. Potter drooled faintly, his mouth open to moan and pant desperately for breath.
Malfoy had never seen anything so beautiful.
Malfoy stroked at his cock, faster, then faster, wanting to splatter cum across the Gryffindor's stupid face. Potter watched him, actually whimpered at him, mouth stretching even wider in obvious invitation.
How could he refuse?
Sliding down a little further in the chair brought Malfoy's cock well enough in reach. Potter engulfed him, wet heat and sloppy tongue swipes, his technique completely gone as Zambini fucked him silly, Potter's eyes rolling up and back as he came again without a hand on his cock, spit-roasted by the Slytherin pair.
Malfoy grasped Potter's head, holding it mostly steady so he could fuck that drooling mouth, driving his cock deep into Potter's throat. Pleasure hit Malfoy, surging within him. He held Potter down, coming deep in his throat while Zambini did the same in Potter's ass, making sure Potter was filled up at both ends.
They really needed to nick that punch recipe.
#############
Hermione pulled away from Luna's heated kiss, her breathing shaky as she dropped her head back against the wall they were snogging against.
Everything felt so muddled, warm. She felt so good. Never before had she felt so uninhibited. So free.
One of Luna's hands left Hermione's face to slide down, cupping her breast, gently thumbing at her hardening nipple.
"Is this ok?" Luna whispered.
"Y-yes." She'd tried playing with them before, when she touched herself, but having Luna do it was a thousand times better. She arched into that hand, moaning faintly when Luna pinched at her, twisting the hard nub a little.
Her pussy was starting to ache. Hermione rubbed her legs together, but the teasing pressure only made it worse.
Luna pressed feather soft kisses to Hermione's jaw, nibbling here and there as she made her way lower, lower...
The room was stifling. Dazed, Hermione glanced passed Luna's blonde hair to the orgy around her. Most people had stripped of their clothes entirely.
So much skin...
Absently, Hermione began to free herself of her own clothes, letting her nice robes fall to the floor. Luna helped her with the little buttons on her muggle blouse so that Hermione could slide out of that too, leaving her in her underwear, skirt, and smart shoes.
Nearby a group of three young women writhed together on the floor. A bushy blonde knelt above a redhead's face, her hips rocking slowly while behind her, in between the redhead's legs another blonde was giving enthusiastic oral, sucking on her clit hard enough to make the redhead wail.
Hermione licked her lips. What would Luna taste like?
Luna's lips grazed Hermione's nipple through her bra, drawing her attention away from the women with a jolt.
"Is this ok?" Very slowly, Luna's tongue slid over the hard nub, then circled it, lapping at it hard, then circling, circling, getting the material of her bra soaked with spit.
Breathless, Hermione nodded, eyes fixed on Luna's beautiful pale blue eyes.
Tugging at the bra forced Hermione's breast to spill out, baring it to the world until Luna enveloped the nub again, suckling gently at it.
The Ravenclaw made her feel so good.
Emboldened, Hermione's hands moved from their place at Luna's waist up to Luna's small breasts. "Is- is this ok?" It felt a little strange to touch someone else like this, to feel breasts filling your hands and not feel it on your own chest, to thumb hard at nipples and not quake because you couldn't feel it, could only hope you were doing it right.
Luna hummed, eyes drifting shut for a moment, nibbling at Hermione's tit as she groaned around it.
Hermione moaned and took that as a sign she wasn't doing too bad. She glanced over Luna to the witch group on the floor, watched the blonde between the redhead's legs working fingers into her lover's pussy.
Maybe...
Hermione let a hand slide down Luna's front all the way to her most intimate of places—
And was very confused.
That was no pussy.
Luna released Hermione's breast to look at her straight on. "I was going to tell you, only it didn't seem like the right time yet, after just a few weeks. I'm trans. I was born a girl in a boy's body. My mother, she was a brilliant witch. The potions experiments she was working on were to help me transition permanently from a male body to a female one. She got most of the way, but... the potion to change my genitals backfired badly. She died. And this... this is me, for now," Luna said with a sad smile. "If having a penis instead bothers you—"
"No!" Hermione rushed to head off that sort of thing l thinking. "No, it's fine. More than, actually." Part of her had been rather confused about dating a woman. She had understood the male body and what you do with it, but being with someone with the same bits as you had felt...intimidating. What if what Hermione liked didn't work for Luna? What if she was bad at being with a woman?
This...this actually wasn't too bad, like having your cake and eating it too.
Then Hermione flushed. She was a terrible person. Luna didn't want to have a penis. It was just something she was stuck with. And here Hermione was, happy that her lover wasn't happy.
She pulled her hands away from Luna, suddenly very unsure despite the throb in her own loins that begged for something to continue. "Are you ok? Being like this? If you don't want to be touched there, it's ok—"
Luna shut her up with a kiss, soft and sweet. Surprisingly, it turned Hermione on more than having her tit sucked had. "I'm very ok with whatever you want to do to me," Luna whispered, close enough that their lips brushed as she spoke. "I like having you touch me. I've thought about it..." She hummed faintly, eyes fluttering. "I just wonder..." Luna took one of Hermione's hands, pressing it to her erect cock, urging her to rub it through Luna's robes. "I just wonder..." she panted faintly as she pressed her other hand to Hermione's groin, palming her clothed sex, forcing a whimper from Hermione's lips, "if it's something that you want..." One of Luna's fingers curled and pressed in a little, the faintest of penetrations where Hermione was soaking her panties.
Hermione yanked Luna against her, kissing her passionately for several moments before it occurred to her that a question had been asked.
"If you're asking," Hermione panted, "whether I have a problem with you fucking me with that beautiful cock, the answer is no, Luna. I have absolutely no problem with that."
Desperate now, she helped Luna strip out of her robes, not stopping until Luna was completely nude. She stopped to admire the sight of her lover, pale and faintly trembling with need. Her eyes traced the small breasts adorned with tiny pink buds, swept her gaze down past the trim waist to the proud cock jutting from a neat blonde thatch of pubic hair, narrow with a delicate curve.
Hermione's mouth watered.
She fell to her knees. Once she was on level with it, she was unsure of what to do. She'd never done this before. Glancing up, she tried to convey her feelings without speaking and, miraculously, Luna seemed to understand what she needed.
Drawing a hand through Hermione's bushy hair, Luna grasped a handful of it, using it to guide her forward. "Please open your mouth, love."
Hermione obeyed and Luna was pressing forward until her cock hit the back of Hermione's throat, making her gag.
Luna withdrew. "Are you ok?"
Hermione finished coughing, eyes a bit watery. "Yes, that was just…unexpected."
"Perhaps it would be best if I just let you play? Do what you feel is right."
Hermione took a deep breath, calming her nerves.
I can do this.
She wrapped her hand around the base of Luna's cock. She liked the feel of it in her hand, the heaviness of it. It was rather pretty for a cock, matching Luna perfectly despite not really matching her at all. Hermione felt sure that, cock or pussy, she would still be very interested in pleasing Luna.
Feeling more confident, Hermione took the tip into her mouth, suckling it, lapping at the tip like she would a lollipop.
"That's good," Luna whispered. "A little more? You can always stroke what you can't reach with your hand. A little tighter— that's it..." She groaned as Hermione took her advice, getting eager as she pleasured Luna. "That's it..."
Hermione felt like a coiled spring, wound up and nowhere to go. Arousal was hitting her hard, making her trust her body over her lack of experience (something she rarely did). She bobbed faster on Luna's cock, feeling the tip nudge the back of her throat. She struggled to swallow the spit filling her mouth, finding it awkward with her mouth so full.
Her pussy throbbed. She needed to be touched.
So she touched it.
Hermione pushed her skirt up out of the way so that she could rub her clit through her panties. She moaned around Luna's cock. Her clit was so swollen.
"Morgana's tit that's hot," Luna panted, watching Hermione pleasure them both. She carded a hand through Hermione's hair, subtly urging her to a faster pace. Luna pinched at one of her own nipples, twisting hard. "I want to fuck you so bad..."
Hermione pulled off with a gasp, uncaring about the rope of spit connecting her mouth to Luna's cock. "Do it. Please, Luna. Fuck me."
Luna knelt on the ground, urging Hermione onto her back. Reverence in her eyes, Luna pushed the skirt up and carefully removed Hermione's panties and shoes.
Hermione gasped as the flimsy material was drawn away from her hot center, leaving her exposed, wanting, and so very wet. Instinct made her spread her legs, knees drawn up so that her feet were flat on the stone floor. It wasn't comfortable, but Hermione was past caring about anything that didn't involve Luna inside of her.
Luna seemed to have different thoughts.
After a moment searching for her wand amongst her discarded robes, Luna cast a cushioning charm under Hermione, making it as if the stone were the world's most comfortable bed.
Hermione grinned at her. "Will you take me already?"
"Hmmm perhaps in a minute." Luna cast a cushioning charm beneath herself before settling down on her front between Hermione's legs, half draped over her hips. Her eyes didn't leave her lover's for a moment as she lapped at Hermione's swollen clit in slow, gentle flicks.
It was lucky Luna was half on top of her, holding her down because Hermione bucked at that first touch and kept trying to follow that tongue. "Fuck, Luna, please do that again!" That was better than fingers any day.
Luna did lick at her, again and again, suckled her until Hermione thought she would lose her mind. Hermione threaded her fingers through Luna's silky blonde hair, keeping Luna exactly where she wanted her.
A touch at her entrance startled Hermione, but she soon settled, relaxing into the finger carefully sliding in and out, delving farther every time. The finger curled, rubbed hard at the sensitive tissue behind her pelvic bone and Hermione groaned low, hips rocking up into the touch.
Another finger slid in, working her apart, wider, and another joined it, all while Luna attended to Hermione's fat clit, keeping her wet and half-crazed with want. Luna's fingers slid in and out of Hermione's cunt with wet sounds that would have made Hermione blush with embarrassment had she been in her right mind.
"Luna, please!"
Luna pulled away with an obscene slurp that made Hermione buck again. "Please what, love?"
"Please fuck me?" she asked, breathless, like she'd just run a mile.
Luna's smug grin distracted Hermione from the nerves that hit. Luna crawled over Hermione and pressed in, her cock stretching Hermione's pussy better than fingers alone could do. In and in and in until Luna's hips pressed to her own. They stayed that way, locked together, breathing, adjusting.
Luna brushed a lock of hair from Hermione's face. "Ready love?"
"Please fuck me!"
"No."
That brought Hermione up short. "No...?"
"No," Luna simply said. She leaned down over Hermione, changing the angle of her penetration, making Hermione twitch.
"I'm going to love you."
Tears spilled from Hermione's eyes at the tenderness in Luna's voice. "Love me then," she whispered, her own voice cracking on the surge of love for this woman.
Smiling, tears in her own eyes, Luna rocked back and forth, building a slow, steady pace. She kissed Hermione then, lips tracing her lover's in a pace to match.
Hermione wrapped her arms around Luna's neck, her legs around Luna's hips. Never before had she felt so close, so connected to another person.
Love slowly stoked their lovemaking, their bodies aching for each other, their passion building.
Luna thrust with increasing ardor, hips jarring against Hermione's as she fucked her harder and harder, angling Hermione's hips so that her cock would rub that place that made Hermione cry out and beg. Seizing a nipple between her teeth, Luna sucked hard at Hermione's breast, hard enough to bruise the tender flesh there.
Hermione could do little more than clutch desperately at Luna, overwhelmed by the pain-pleasure at her breast, by the feel of something, someone, inside her, driving in. Her inner walls tried to keep her lover's cock inside. Hermione was babbling, most of her words unintelligible amongst the desperate cries falling from her lips.
She was so close, so close...
Luna rubbed frantically at Hermione's swollen clit, never letting go of the nipple bruising in her mouth, pounding into Hermione's wet pussy harder than ever.
Hermione screamed, her vision whiting out as she came hard on Luna's cock, clenching around it, her body seizing. She was tumbling over the edge into pure bliss.
Luna cried out and drove deep, pulsing her cum deep inside Hermione, fucking it into her in desperate thrusts, needing to get farther in, just a little farther. An ocean of feeling engulfed her. She felt like she was downing but in the best way.
Magic swirled around them, through them, through Hermione's center.
They both blacked out, not knowing that their love had just given life to another.
#############
Harry staggered out of the closet, nude and shaking. His body was streaked with cum. It ran down his legs, matted tellingly in his dark hair, smudged up his glasses, and had dried in itchy patches on his face.
He'd lost track of how long he'd been in there with Malfoy and Zambini, but eventually, they had left him alone on the floor, feeling empty in ways he could only dream of in between Hogsmeade visits, when he could lose himself to the desires of client after client in a room at the Hogs Head Inn, hooded for anonymity while the barkeep who blackmailed him watched and gathered even more blackmail material.
He felt…free.
A goblet was pushed into his hand and Harry drank without question, happy to lose himself to whatever aphrodisiac it contained.
The goblet was pulled away. Harry let it go. His eyes drifted closed as the drink lulled him under again, hardening his cock anew, making him want.
He didn't open his eyes even as large hands manhandled him to lie on his back across a table, legs urged up. Harry, helpful to the last, held himself open, thighs spread wide to show off his slick hole, red with much use already.
A cock slid in.
Harry hummed to himself.
What the cock lacked in length, it made up for in girth. It was fat, so very fat. It stretched him in the best ways, but still it came up short, barely able to fill Harry how he really wanted.
But still, it was…nice, he guessed.
Harry liked being fucked, liked it very much in fact. It was almost all he thought about anymore and it was what he sought after, whenever he could get it. Like an addict with their fix. Ginny's restrictions drove him mad most of the time, so when Harry could manage to get filled by something other than a spelled dildo, he indulged until he was sore.
He was nowhere near sore yet, but the fat cock fucking him in increasing speed might get him close.
The man's body was thick and soft, pressed against Harry's legs and ass. Labored panting came from above Harry. It strongly reminded him of Dudley or Vernon when their larger bulks would move atop him.
Whoever he was, he was close. Harry just lay back, supine on the table, content to let the man use him, content to not even find out who he was, eyes still shut.
Warm cum filled Harry, spilling out around the cock as it tried to drive in as deep as it could (which wasn't far).
The man didn't linger.
Harry didn't mind. He drew his knees up to his chest, as much in invitation for another cock as it was for a bit of rest for his back.
Cum seeped from his hole.
He shivered.
Merlin he needed to be filled…
Almost as though Harry had spoken allowed, a warm body pressed against his ass, hands caressing the back of his legs.
Harry let his legs fall open again, inviting, wanting.
This cock was absolutely perfect. Long with a decent amount of girth to make Harry feel it.
And he was going to because to man thrusting inside him had no qualms about being rough with Harry. Hands gripped to bruise, to hold him in place, to drag onto that glorious monster at just the right angle…
Harry knew he was getting loud, begging for it, begging for the man to make him cum, to never stop fucking him. His own cock slapped against his belly, leaking, needing to be touched (Harry didn't dare to).
He hadn't meant to open his eyes, but a part of him wanted to know who was taking him this time, wanted to maybe find this person again, when the party ended.
His eyes opened and when they locked onto the hate-filled black eyes of Professor Snape, fully clothed but for the cock he pounded into Harry with, Harry came, untouched, never taking his eyes off of Snape.
Snape's thrusts became violent, punishing.
Harry loved it.
When Snape came, he bent over Harry, folding his body in half to seize Harry's lips in a rough, biting kiss that Harry returned, clutching desperately at the professor's robes. A strange sensation swept through Harry, like magic only different to what he usually experienced.
And yet…strangely familiar.
A satisfied smirk lit Snape's face. He withdrew from Harry, tucking himself away as he stepped back. Without a word, he left, abandoning Harry in search of some other prey.
Harry let him go without protest, too out of breath to do anything else.
################3
Hours passed.
No. That wasn't right. Not hours.
Minutes. Minutes that felt like hours.
Harry didn't really know anymore.
His head still spun in a vaguely nauseating way. His skin itched, but scratching didn't help. Scratching didn't take the ache away.
After…some amount of time, Harry slid off the table. He couldn't think clearly past the need for sex. He needed to be filled. Needed something to fill this gnawing emptiness inside him.
He staggered past couples and threesomes and moresomes, everyone engaged.
Fuck he felt empty.
Why did he feel so empty?
"And where you think you're going, Potter?"
Harry turned to see Cormac McLaggen bearing down on him through the throngs of writhing bodies. The man had a beautiful cock, thick and hard and bouncing with every step he made towards Harry.
And right behind him was Ginny, sullen and glaring at him, tits jiggling as she marched after Cormac.
Fuck, even if Harry wanted to, he couldn't have Cormac, there was no way would Ginny let him.
"Sorry Cormac, but I need find someone." Harry made to turn, to get away, only Cormac grabbed his wrist and wouldn't let him go. "Fuck off, Cormac," Harry growled.
"Come on Harry, don't be like that. I just watched you let two professors have that tight little arse. I think it's my turn for a taste." He yanked Harry against his very well-toned body, capturing Harry's lips in a heated kiss.
Harry felt Ginny's eyes on him and struggled as best he could, but Cormac held him fast. Whatever was in the punch Harry drank had made him slow and horny. He thrust his rapidly returning erection against Cormac's leg even as he tried to fight to free himself.
It was very counterproductive.
He bit Cormac's lip instead.
"Argh!" Cormac reared back, lip bleeding freely, letting Harry go. Harry didn't get to take more than a few steps back before Cormac came at him, rage in his eyes. "Ungrateful bitch!" Cormac snarled, slapping Harry so hard across the face that his glasses went askew, another slap sent them flying off his face altogether and Harry tumbled to the floor.
Reeling, Harry tried to crawl away. Cormac kicked at his arm, knocking Harry onto his face. His nose hurt, but at least it wasn't bleeding. He tried crawling away again. Cormac kicked his legs apart, was between them an instant later and driving his cock in to the hilt, his hands tight around Harry's hips to keep him in place while Cormac took his pleasure.
The problem was it was Harry's pleasure too. He was well prepared to take Cormac and the angle he was rutting away at did lovely things to Harry's prostate.
"How are you this tight still?" Cormac groaned. "Ginny! Look how tight this slut is!"
A pair of shapely feet stopped in front of Harry. He looked up, unsurprised to find Ginny standing there, arms crossed, watching Cormac rape him.
Or at least Harry assumed it was Ginny. His vision really was horrible.
"I think he can take more, Cormac," Ginny cooed. "Put your back into it."
Cormac did his best to follow Ginny's advice. If Harry had been less stretched, had less cum inside him, he might have been torn apart by Cormac's animal fucking, but Harry loved it.
This was something he was going to feel tomorrow, the kind of possessive fucking he could only get while whoring himself at the Hog's Head Inn. It was the kind of fucking he couldn't have because Ginny had him between a rock and a hard place, threatening to tell her mother about Harry's exploits with Arthur, Fred, and George unless Harry left every Gryffindor cock to her.
But she wasn't stopping Cormac at all. Maybe if Harry could think beyond trying to catch his breath, it would make sense to him, but he could only take Cormac's thick cock and stare up at the blob that was Ginny, his own cock drooling precum onto the floor.
"Gin, you should get under him."
"What?"
"Yeah, here—" Cormac dragged Harry onto his knees, his back pressed to Cormac's chest. "Come on, Gin. We can both fuck him."
For a long moment, Ginny didn't move, apparently stunned, but soon she was scrambling to lay on her back under Harry, legs spread wide to either side of Harry's. Cormac forced Harry down over her and, wrapping a hand around Harry's cock — here Harry did put up a struggle, useless as it was — angled Harry just right to plunge into Ginny's wet cunt as Cormac took pace inside Harry again, forcing Harry to fuck her.
It was Harry's first cunt. It was the first anything Harry had ever fucked as he was always the one getting fucked. Warm wet heat wrapped around Harry's cock, better than a hug, tight but with such softness that massaged his hard length. It felt distinctly weird, but Harry wasn't really calling the shots here. Between the punch and being pinned in place by Cormac, Harry's reticence in fucking his almost-sister was overridden, stimulation doing the rest of the work. Harry rocked forward and back as best he could, trying to fuck himself on Ginny and Cormac, but Cormac had a steel grip on his hips, controlling where Harry was to the point Harry nearly went mad with it.
"Uh-uh, Potter. You don't get to come just yet." Cormac reached around with his wand (where Cormac had kept it, Harry didn't know) and cast a spell Harry didn't recognize but soon understood from the effects.
It was like a band had been placed around his cock and balls in a very snug fit.
He couldn't come.
And he was desperate to come.
Harry whined, burying his head in Ginny's neck. This wasn't fair at all. He could only let himself be used.
Harry slipped that much further away, his mind grey and thoughtless and wonderfully free.
"You feel good this way too," Ginny whispered in his ear. "I've wanted to ride your cock since I was ten, you know, after I saw you on the train. You were the first person I touched myself to. Did you know how much it pissed me off? When I found out you were fucking dad? And Fred and George? I could have castrated you. I tried to, I tried to give you the biggest blue balls, just like you did me." Ginny groaned, wrapped her legs around Harry's waist, awkwardly overlapping Cormac's grip. "I can see why they wanted you though. Fucking slut. I saw you go into that closet with Malfoy and Zambini, watched you just lay back on that table and let Slughorn and Snape fuck you. Even the Slytherin's can't get enough of you. Hngh—"
Ginny rolled her hips, fucking herself on Harry's cock.
"Fuck, if your ass feels as good to them as your cock does to me..."
Harry was crying now. No one had ever denied him release before. Punished him for coming too soon, yes, but never actually kept him from doing it. His balls were swollen and heavy. They slapped against Ginny's ass when Cormac forced his cock into her cunt, making Harry ache with need that he couldn't find. It was starting to hurt.
He never wanted it to stop.
With a roar, Cormac buried himself with Harry, emptying himself in great, heaving aborted thrusts. Cum spilled to the ground when he pulled out, slapping his spent cock on Harry's bound testicles, wrenching a sob from Harry.
"I want to ride him. Cormac help me—"
Together they manhandled Harry off Ginny and onto his back, uncaring that Harry was more or less limp and crying. Ginny straddled him, forcing his cock back inside her. She rocked and bounced, her head thrown back.
"Fuck Ginny, take that cock." Cormac was kneeling beside them, stoking his rapidly-hardening cock, his hand flying.
Every time Ginny dropped down, her ass would half-squish Harry's balls. Harry's eyes rolled back. He twitched on the floor. He couldn't take much more of this, needed to come, needed to find that sweet release—
Without thought, Harry's hands crept up to Ginny's hips, holding on as she bounced on his cock.
A slap to his face caught Harry by surprise. "Hands off," Ginny hissed. "Fucking slut." She pushed his hands to the ground as she bent over him to brace for leverage. "You just can't help it, can you? How do you do it, make people want to fuck you?"
Harry tossed his head on the floor. Did she really want him to answer that? He was Harry fucking Potter, people had been trying to fuck him since before he could remember. They just hadn't been successful before now.
Another slap, harder, knocked his head to the side.
"Cormac was mine, you selfish cunt," she growled. "And still you made him fuck you."
"Um—" Cormac tried to interject, jacking his cock with a speed that made Harry dizzy to look at, but Ginny wasn't having it, cutting him off with a fierce glare as she worked herself frantically on Harry's cock.
Harry didn't know which of them she was trying to punish.
"What do I have to do to put you in place?" She twisted viciously at Harry's nipples.
Oh, it was him, then.
Harry arched awkwardly into the pain. It edged him closer to nowhere, any orgasm cut off by the spell Cormac had hobbled him with.
He whimpered pitifully. He just wanted to come.
"What do I have to do teach you a lesson? I've tried to warm you off the Gryffindors. Should I have done the opposite? Should I have tied you up in the common room with a sign painted on your ass? —'Public Use'? — Just let anyone have at you? Or maybe I should truss you up in the dungeons and let the Slytherins take their frustrations out on you. Prolly stop the war, it would. Harry Potter, seducing You Know Who's followers away with his tight little ass. The Chosen Slut saves the world."
It really shouldn't have made his cock twitch, Ginny bringing up Voldemort, only Harry was reminded of a much younger Voldemort, a more fuckable—
Ginny twisted his sore nipples again, drawing Harry more or less out of his thoughts.
Should he thank her or…?
"Dirty cockslut. Whore."
Horribly turned on by the degradation and pain, Harry still felt faint nausea at being inside her. It wasn't that she didn't feel good around him, she did (amazing, in fact), but women, he'd discovered after much thought, just didn't do it for him, no matter how pretty they looked bouncing on his cock. Now, Ginny's cunt might be tight and so very wet and, granted, without the spell he'd have shot his load inside of her by now out of stimulation alone, but the thing was, Harry didn't really want to fuck her.
Not that he had a choice in the matter.
Still, he tried to thrust up, needing release, knowing it wouldn't come, that she wouldn't let him come.
Ginny slapped him again.
She was getting really good at that.
"I wanna fuck his mouth." Cormac stared at Harry, licking his lips at the thought of being buried in that throat, feeling Potter gag around his massive cock.
"You'll do no such thing of you want to keep that prick," Ginny snarled at him. "You fucked him once when you shouldn't have fucked him at all!"
"But—"
Ginny dragged him into a possessive kiss, slowing her pace down to a frustrating rock of her hips, barely moving at all. "Why fuck Harry when you have me?"
"Please Gin, just his mouth?" Cormac all but begged once he pulled away from her. Precum dripped freely from his prick. "Let him taste it—"
"He likes that," Ginny countered. "You'd only be doing him a favor, giving him something to suck on. See?"
Case in point, Harry was staring at the thick meat in Cormac's hand, licking his lips. The very smell of him made Harry's mouth water.
"I'm trying to punish the bitch. Are you gonna help or not?"
"How? I fucked him as hard as I could and he only tried to back into it."
"Come on his face."
Cormac blinked at her.
"Trust me. If all that cum doesn't end up in his mouth or his ass, it'll make him sad. I know how he is."
Sad? Harry thought. What? Like some kid having his fucking lollipop taken away?
Cormac looked dubious but he knelt over Harry's face. He slapped at Harry's lips with the wet tip, pulling it out of the way when Harry's tongue tried to chase him. He slapped all over Harry's face, teasing him, smearing precum as he went, making a mess.
And still Harry tried to lick at him, mouth open wide to tempt Cormac to thrust inside.
Cormac found he couldn't resist anymore.
He pressed his cock to Harry's lips, letting that lithe little tongue lap at his crown, cleaning it off.
"Cormac."
Pressing in, Cormac groaned, his cock enveloped by warm wet heat. Harry sucked at him, moaning as if he were the one being pleasured.
Ginny slapped at his chest. "Cormac, no!"
Cormac slid deeper, tip against the back of Harry's throat. Harry swallowed around him coaxing him deeper, deeper...
Cormac's balls rested on Harry's face as he was fully engulfed by that sweet mouth. He panted, desperately trying to hold off his orgasm. He wanted to savor this, no matter that Harry was doing his best to bring him off as fast as humanly possible.
"Cormac I swear if you don't—"
"You don't understand, Gin, I need to fuck him." Cormac groaned, beginning to do just that, sliding back and forth over Harry's tongue, driving his crown into that throat, getting his balls sloppy wet as Harry drooled freely around him. It was unlike anything Cormac had ever experienced, almost better than a cunt or arse. "I'm fucking him, Gin. Hear that, Potter?" He mocked, grinding his balls into Harry's face. "I'm fucking you, ya useless cunt."
Cormac gripped Harry by the face and got rough, slamming as hard as he could into Harry's throat, expecting to feel gagging, surprised when Harry kept sucking and moaning, unaffected by the rough treatment.
"He has no gag reflex, Gin. Look!" Cormac stilled, deep at can be. Harry laved what he could reach with his tongue, clearly not in any distress at all. "Fuck!" Cormac went at him again, his pace uneven as he hurtled towards orgasm.
Ginny growled, resuming her own attempt to rape Harry's cock, an act utterly ruined as the slut beneath her tried to arch into it, moaning in delight.
They weren't punishing the slut at all. They were making his goddamn year.
Cormac thrust deep and came, pulling out to paint Harry's face in sticky cum that pretty much landed everywhere Harry couldn't reach with his tongue.
Alright, maybe Ginny had a point.
"Oh!" Ginny's cunt squeezed around Harry as she came, rocking his cock deep inside her, soaking his pubic hair with her cum. Panting, she leaned down to press the softest kiss to his lips. "Thanks for the ride," she grinned. "But if you think you've earned the right to come, you're mistaken." With that, she pulled off his turgid length and dismounted.
They both left him there, lying on the floor, but flying high as a kite, unable to get down.
##############
He had no idea how much time passed after Ginny and Cormac took their leave. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings.
The smell of sex, the sound of flesh against flesh.
The pain in his balls from a built-up release he couldn't reach.
Someone would occasionally sit on his cock, or draw his legs up to fuck his stretched hole, but they were all strangers, faces blurring together as they used him as a sex toy, laughing about how good a fuck the Chosen One was.
There were more of them now. They came one after another, sliding home, coming inside him.
A puddle of seed grew under Harry's ass, his pubic hair was a fairly disgusting mix of dried and drying cum. Harry just lay prone on the stone floor, unknowing and uncaring about who used his body.
This. This was what he was meant for, what he craved. His need to come was still there, like electricity just beneath his skin, built up but with nowhere to go. He couldn't come.
It didn't matter.
Obediently, he sucked the cock offered to him, moaning low when it surged deep into his throat, balls pressing into his face.
Yess...
Someone, a witch maybe, came on his cock. Some other witch nearby congratulated her. His legs were pushed to his chest and held there as a cock thrust in deep, only inside long enough to come, the length pulsing inside of Harry before withdrawing, cum seeping from a hole that gaped wide open. Another took its place. And another. Harry swallowed the cum in his mouth, barely getting it down, then another cock was pressed to his lips.
Time lost meaning. There was only unfulfilled need and the freedom that came with servicing others with his body.
Eventually, as all things did, it came to an end.
He was left alone. Tears ran freely from his eyes.
He felt so empty. So empty...
Why was he empty?
Brain function teased at him. He had forgotten something, something important.
Absently, he traced the white stretch marks on his belly, feeling them.
So empty.
Someone was standing over him, waving a wand. The magical band around Harry's genitals was gone.
Harry seized as orgasm took him, blinded by wave after wave of the pleasure that had been denied him, cum streaking his chest and belly.
Blackness took him and he knew no more.
#################
"Horace. Horace!" Snape practice bellowed to get his colleague's attention. Said colleague had his cock buried inside Potter's ass, fucking the well-used slut yet again. Sloppy wet sounds filled the air as Slughorn moved through countless loads of cum.
The boy was filthy, his pale skin streaked with dried cum.
He was also quite unconscious.
"Are you nearly done? All of the others have been given the last round of potion and sent on their merry way. Someone might notice Potter is missing before long."
The last potion being an interesting concoction of Horace's similar to ones given to rape victims as a way of helping their body's healing speed up while dulling their senses. In this case, the potion helped heal the aches and pains several rounds of sex gave a person (very helpful for those who had been...less prepared or willing to participate in the party festivities) and also made them think that what they had experienced was nothing more than a dream.
Horace had perfected the potion during his initial tenure at Hogwarts. It was rumored that he would break in Slytherin first years with it (and perhaps those of other houses). Watching Horace cant Potter's hips, efficiently getting him at an angle that made the boy whimper even while unconscious made Severus quite sure that the rumors had basis in fact. He seemed rather adept in fucking the dubiously willing.
"Almost there," Horace puffed. Sweat ran down his face and beaded all over his large nude body from the effort it took to work his cock in and out of Potter at such a quick pace. "The boy had an Orgasm Deprivation charm cast him, poor thing. All that fucking without being able to come, can you imagine?" Horace groaned at the thought, smiling, perhaps filing that idea away for use on a student or two. "Once I lifted the charm, he came like an uncorked champagne bottle! I just thought—" he stroked Potter's cock, precum dripping all over his first, — I thought the boy deserved to have another chance at a more—" Horace's thrusts got rougher, jarring Potter's body where he lay on the floor, "—natural way of coming."
"On your cock then?"
"Well, waste not!" Horace grinned up at him.
Potter's whimpering changed as the boy started to come, thin strands of cum painting his filthy chest, the orgasm forced out and prolonged by Horace's tight grip on his cock, which Horace kept up, stroking the boy back to full mast and desperate again.
"Think I can make him come again before he wakes?"
"I think you're going to try it anyway so why bother asking me?" Severus pulled out his own erection, stroking it absently as he watched the whale of a man rape their unconscious student.
"You can't say you don't want another go at him. I lost count at how many people had him and here he is, arsehole tightas a virgin again! Fucking born for this, he was. You don't find that every day!"
No, you don't, Severus mused, thinking of the baby Potter now carried within him.
Severus had been sure he'd impregnated the boy during that in detention in September, so how could he knock Potter up again?
He let the memory of that day fill him.
Potter had been a guileless slut, trying to seduce his professor (he'd succeeded, much to their shared pleasure). Fucking Potter first with his own butt plug, then with his cock when Potter had passed out had been a treat Severus had more than earned. The surge of magic he'd felt at the moment he'd impregnated the boy was unmistakable (he'd also verified it with research in the Restricted Section).
But fucking the boy again had yielded the same feeling, the same surge of magic when it should have been impossible.
He'd knocked up Potter in September, Severus was sure, but Potter had not been pregnant before Severus had sunk his cock deep in the boy tonight, impregnating him once again. Sometime before then and now, Potter's little problem had been fixed.
Someone had helped Harry have an abortion.
Severus sank into thought, vaguely aware of Horace bending said boy in half and doubling his efforts. He thought of the stretch marks marring Potter's belly, clear evidence of a pregnancy despite Potter's lack of memory of it. Headmaster Dumbledore had almost certainly Obliviated the boy, perhaps was still cleaning up his messes. Protecting his brand, as it were, avoiding a PR nightmare and tightening the reins on his sacrificial lamb in one fell swoop.
He grasped his own cock, pumping it, lazily.
If Dumbledore was protecting Potter from himself, the odds weren't likely the boy would carry Severus's seed to term...
Finally, Potter stirred to consciousness when Horace came, adding yet another load of cum to seep to the floor. Severus's stomach turned a little when Horace kissed Potter, tongue-fucking his mouth thoroughly. The boy — dutiful slut that he was — sucked on his professor's tongue eagerly, rolling his hips to better take Horace's fat cock, which eagerly renewed its thrusting inside Potter. He watched as Horace all but suffocated the boy under his immense bulk, all in the name of coming yet again inside the little whore.
Perhaps the man was addicted?
Finally, Horace crawled away from between the boy's skinny legs to collapse on his back, body heaving as he struggled for breath. "You have a go, Severus," he graciously offered, clearly in no position to do so himself, raging erection aside.
Severus needed to steal the recipe of that potion.
Covered in sweat and cum, Potter watched Severus fora long moment before lifting and spreading his legs in invitation, holding them wide with his hands. The boy's pretty green eyes — Lily's eyes — were glazed, a side effect from the potion driving his arousal up exponentially. His arsehole was red and puffy from overuse and cum slowly oozed from it, sliding down those pert ass cheeks.
The boy was sex and sin personified.
Severus had never seen anything so beautiful.
Lily's eyes stared back at him, desperate and wanting for him in a way Lily never had, not even when Severus had dosed her with a potion that made her so horny that she let him fuck her for hours before it wore off and she ran away from him, crying and full of his seed. She gave birth to a little boy less than a year later and within another year, she was dead.
Severus knelt between the boy's legs, stroked them, held them further apart so that little arsehole was tight once again as he sank, inch by inch, into Potter's warm wet heat. He ignored Potter's whimpers, the bucks the boy made trying to get Severus to fuck him.
Severus held still, staring into Lily's eyes. His cock twitched inside Potter and the boy's eyes fluttered shut as he moaned.
Severus spared a moment to caress the stretch marks covering Potter's belly. He'd help make them, in a way, even if it had been the werewolf's seed the boy had borne. It had been his potions that had sped up Potter's pregnancy, making him go through nine months of growth in a matter of weeks, at Lupin's behest. He hadn't done it for Lupin as any favor (though the Wolf certainly owed him now that he'd abandoned the war, fleeing with the progeny Potter had carried for him). No, Severus had done it to see the boy brought low, nothing more than a slut and a vessel for his master's seed.
And how beautiful he was despite it all.
Severus leaned down to capture Potter's lips, showing the boy who owned him. It mattered not how many cocks Potter spread his legs for, how wantonly he took them all. The boy was his, re-claimed tonight with his seed — and however many more times it took before the slut carried it to term, forever bound to Severus Snape. A thought occurred to him (not for the first time) that perhaps Lily bore Severus's seed instead of Potter's. Who was to say if she aborted what Severus spent hours (and various positions) putting inside her? His seed giving birth to his seed yet again…
His cock throbbed at the thought.
Perhaps, if the boy was good, Severus would show him the pictures he'd taken during those blissful hours, compare the boy's flexibility with his mother's, see how many of those same positions they could match.
Keeping eye contact, Severus fucked the boy hard, allowing himself to steal into the boy's thoughts, driving him wild with need as he thrust in at just the right angle to make Potter's legs shake, his breathing to pant and wheeze, his cock to drool a continuous line of precum to his scarred belly.
Legilimancy had so many uses.
"Mine," Severus growled, balls slapping against Potter's ass.
Potter nodded frantically, eyes rolling back into his skull. Severus was unsurprised when, moments later, the boy came on his cock, untouched.
"Mine!" Severus came deep inside the boy. There was no surge of magic this time, Potter already pregnant with his seed, but Severus caressed the boy's belly all the same, thrusting minutely as if pushing his cum in a little deeper would do anything more than make Potter groan low in his throat.
Without warning, Potter levered himself up high enough to kiss Severus, coaxing his clever tongue inside when Severus parted his lips.
"Magnificent!"
Annoyed, Severus pulled away to glare at Horace, who sported a fresh splattering of cum on his generous belly.
Horace held up a goblet, smiling ruefully at it. "I suppose we should let him have a bit of the last potion round." He looked regretful of the suggestion.
Severus rocked back and forth in his cum, in what remained of Horace's cum. He looked into Lily's eyes, still glazed with arousal, saw the hope for more Potter yet held.
"Any more of the second round of punch left, by any chance?"
Horace beamed at him, cock twitching in delight.
##############
Harry woke late the next morning, feeling more sore than he ever remembered being. He lay flat on his back in his four-poster bed, having no memory of how he'd gotten there.
There had been a party, Slughorn's club get-together he'd been forced to go to.
When had he left?
Must have been something funny in that punch, he decided.
A knock on the door then Hermione entered the dorm, her bushy hair a tangled mess. "Oh good, you're awake. I tried to wait up for you, but I got so tired." She yawned around the last word before smiling at him. "I had the most...interesting dream last night."
Bits and pieces of strange, sultry things came to Harry at that, of a night of lust and deprivation with anyone who would have him. Including his professors.
Harry squirmed at the thought, wincing slightly at the stiffness in his lower back, noticing how sore his cock and arsehole felt.
What the hell had been in that punch?
"Yeah...I had a weird dream too," Harry said, unsure if everything he fuzzily recalled was really a dream at all.
He certainly hoped not.