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Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)
Daphne handed Harry a winter pumpkin juice while dressed in a tight, lime-green bikini. Her perfect breasts glistened with drops of water from the nearby ocean. Her incredibly sculpted, sixteen-year-old body looked even more stunning in the tropical sunlight. As they lay back on the lounge chair, they could hear the waves crashing against the shore in rhythmic beats. It was a paradise island.
Smiling, without a word, her beautiful blue eyes transformed into empty runes as she sank into the chair beside him. The plastic bent slightly under the weight of her slender upper frame. Her hand slid down to his crotch, which he noticed was inexplicably missing pants. Her touch felt divine, stroking him up and down.
"Master," she whispered. "Master...it's time to wake up, Master."
Huh?
Suddenly, he shook his head and opened his eyes. He saw his slave Tracey attentively caressing his naked cock, adoration gleaming in her eyes. They were both in bed, with green sheets draped around their bodies.
"I think my brainwashing is finally complete, Master," she said, with traces of runes still lingering in her eyes. "I spent the entire night reading the book as you instructed."
Her vacant, love-filled face made Harry's cock twitch in her hand. Vaguely, he recalled giving her the instruction. It was hard to separate some of what was happening from the previous night when he issued many commands to both Tracey and his other devoted slave, Irma.
"Oh," he said, nodding. "Good ah-" her stroking intensified, thrilled to be praised. "Good girl."
A low, satisfied moan escaped her sexy, open mouth. He noticed the book on the nearby bed, its bookmark completely removed, not a trace of the once prominent runes. Ah, well.
"Thank you, Master. May I be blessed with your cum, please? You can even impregnate me if you wish..."
He could see her body blushing from his touch as intensely as she was. Good. It felt good. Her tight, sexy young body was clad in the lingerie she had worn the previous night.
It had been almost a week since that majestic day in the library when he first fucked the minds of Irma and Tracey. The time that had passed since then had been filled with sex at a frequency Harry had never thought possible. He discovered that his cock was capable of multiple erections and delivering enormous amounts of cum to his new slaves—and it was even more capable when he had many girls in front of him.
He noticed that the power of the book weakened with each use, and he had to wait a longer time for it to fully recharge. The occlumency training with Tracey was so good that most of his free time during the week and all the book's energy were spent maintaining Tracey's complete control over her body.
The problems with paying Daphne disappeared when Imra took care of it.
"Anything to keep me as her slave," she murmured, stroking Harry's cock as she sent an owl to Gringotts, requesting that they send her all the money she had hidden in her own vault. She didn't have much money left after that, but he was sure she could blackmail and seduce other men to earn a decent income on top of her librarian job. Maybe even some of the other teachers at school. Daphne did it with ease, and Irma—a remarkable sexual kitten she was—was almost as hot as Daphne.
Daphne was still, of course, the main target for young Harry. Despite having such fantastic slaves, they all played second fiddle to Daphne, the cheerleading captain. His need to possess her was almost physical. His heart beat faster at the mere thought of her sexy, young body.
Irma knew about his need to possess her. She promised Harry she would do anything that came to her mind to make Daphne kneel before her Master. Irma tried summoning Daphne to her office to enchant her for Harry, but without success. Daphne simply no longer felt the need to do what anyone told her, especially not Irma, whom Daphne had blackmailed through Harry.
Ever since Irma gave Harry a blowjob in the library, Daphne begged Harry for cash every day. It would have been a problem if it weren't so easy to extract extra money from Irma or Tracey to pay the wonderful cheerleader. So far, she seemed rather pleased with his efforts—and oddly, perhaps perversely, it started to excite Harry. Anything to see a smile on her face.
Unfortunately, so far, whenever she came to collect the money, it was too public a place for him to enchant her. Either his book didn't have the power at that moment, like it did now in the bedroom, where Tracey stroked his cock openly, drooling as she watched it harden.
Hogwarts was like an intriguing negotiation, with Tracey and Irma both trying to hide how much they loved and adored him. Tracey would pass him notes during classes, describing in detail how much she wanted to have his cock in her throat.
That was relatively easy to avoid. It wasn't so easy with Irma, who had the trust of the entire faculty at her disposal.
At least once a day in every class, Irma found a way to demand his presence. Of course, to maintain appearances, he would have to leave the class, so as not to raise questions from the teacher about why he ignored her request. And since he couldn't just wander the corridors, as it would risk arousing suspicion, he decided to meet Irma. And after meeting her and seeing what she dressed up for him that day, he felt compelled to fuck her relentlessly in her office.
She had mastered the art of silent orgasm, reaching climax and expressing her worship for him with wide-open brown eyes, even when her colleagues were just a few feet away from her pussy filled by his teenage cock.
Irma was becoming increasingly creative, which worried him a little. Yesterday, she caught him during his morning training by the lake, where she quickly convinced him that the only proper way to start the day was with a blowjob from his slave.
"I'll... I'll be late," he protested weakly.
She released her mouth from his cock, his precum gliding down her magnificent face.
"Kings never run late, Master," she whimpered. "Kings arrive on time."
As her lips descended back onto his stiff shaft, he couldn't help but agree. Later, after he had thrust into her throat for the first of many times that day, she wrote him a note that helped him get out of detention.
Sooner or later, he realized Irma would remember that as a school official, she could report to the detention supervision at any time. Then he would probably be stuck on early morning, late evening, and all-day Saturday detentions on top of his regular schedule. He supposed he could order her to stop... but in the face of such a hot babe who eagerly manipulated, fucked, and found her way into his favors, he wasn't sure if he wanted that at all. All this attention rather flattered him.
Later that day, he received a message that the Potions teacher and head of Slytherin, Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy, needed to see him. She was a beautiful, fair-haired woman, confident and assertive when it came to students from her house. Her pale skin reminded him of her high birth, which somehow made her even more stunning.
Intrigued, he descended to her office—and saw Irma sitting on Narcissa's desk, holding a book emitting a soft pink light directed onto Narcissa's face. Narcissa's eyes were large, bright pink orbs, her mouth hanging open.
Quickly, Harry put two and two together: Irma had stolen the book from him when she rode him that morning.
"Irma... Irma, what are you doing?"
She giggled, turning her head to look at him with a heavy gaze. Every time she looked at him, he knew without a doubt that he was the most important, most sexual being in the world to her. It was an addictive feeling.
"We'll have to assume positions of authority first," she explained, still holding the book.
"Positions... of authority," Narcissa repeated blankly.
Her lips glistened with a wet sheen, as if Irma had been kissing her while entranced. Harry knew that was likely the case.
"First? What do you mean?"
"To secure your reign, my beloved Master. You must rule all of Hogwarts. You must be the king, and we'll need to ensure that everyone falls under your sway. So, positions of power first."
"No... no, look, this is hot, Irma. I mean, really hot."
He heard his heart pound, thundering heavily against his chest. This super-hot, will-less slave of his, so filled with the need to possess everything and everyone. She slid off the desk, approaching him in her tight pencil skirt—her white blouse unbuttoned enough to reveal her ample breasts.
She nodded, stepping closer, pressing her breasts against his chest. "It's so hot," she repeated in a seductive whisper. "Yes... yes."
He stopped thinking, his gaze fixated on the plunge of her cleavage. God, she had such beautiful breasts. They were so soft, so large and firm. His hand slid around her hips, gripping her ass. She let out a delightful sound like that of a little girl.
"You'll be the king," she growled. "The king of the entire school. No one will stand in your way. We'll make sure of it."
"I just wanted... I just wanted Daphne."
"I know."
She seemed just as excited about enchanting Daphne as he did. He revealed how much he desired the cheerleading captain when they fucked, and after they fucked. She was very interested in who he wanted to fuck the most. She made a list—now, of course, he knew what she planned to do with it. "I know, my beloved Master. But if we go after them aimlessly... we'll get caught. I can't let them take you away from me. I need you. I need your control. You must have control over everyone... and Daphne must be my queen. I need it so much because it's what you need."
Her words echoed in Harry's head as he continued to wake up, shaking his head and looking down at the sexy shape of Tracey next to him. He explored the sexy brunette as she continued to empty and stroke him in reality.
Then, yesterday afternoon, he easily dismissed the idea of being the school's king. It was just a fantasy, after all. A hot, sexy fantasy, but still a fantasy.
Now, staring into Tracey's beautiful face, that thought filled him again. Why not be a king? Enchanting hot babes like Tracey was also his fantasy, and it had certainly come true. He raised one hand, caressing her cheek.
"Call me your king," he said, his voice slightly trembling..
"Yes, my King. Whatever you say, my King."
He pushed her down onto the bed and straddled her chest, sitting on her firm, sexy breasts.
"I'm going to fuck your face," he said. She smiled, biting her lower lip. "Thank you, my king."
"I'm going to fuck your face and call you Daphne. And you're going to enjoy that I'm thinking of her." Her whole body was warm with desire. He could see her pussy dripping hot trails of juices.
"Yes, my King. That sounds wonderful, my King." He traced her lips with his precum-dripping cock. "You'll cum when I say her name from now on."
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Chapters 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9 are already on Pa tr eon
Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)
