Chapters 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9 are already on Pa tr eon
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Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)
And this man took it all in. He openly ogled her. She was afraid to look down again at his hard mass; the way his eyes sparkled as he looked at her body, objectifying her, made her quite certain that he was gathering his hardness to full force.
She cleared her throat, hoping his gaze would shift upwards. But now he was just staring at her face, beautiful and pale.
"I have a few questions for you," she finally said. His smile widened. "Okay. I'm single, before you ask. Recently."
She furrowed her brow. She was well aware of that. Before coming here, she went to his house and had a brief conversation with his wife. Now they were separated by the wife's statement. She seemed rather amused that her husband was suspected of crimes. Quite pleased with herself.
"Yesterday, a certain woman on the corner complained that a vandal entered her shop and left it in disarray. But when pressed, she didn't remember anyone going in."
"Pity."
"The Ministry office reported something similar. Her office was left in complete disarray. Actions she didn't remember."
"Actions?"
"She said she doesn't remember anything from noon to two, Mr. Potter." He furrowed his brows slightly.
"Why don't you come inside?"
She wasn't keen on that. From the doorstep, there was a visceral aroma of sex and alcohol. It wasn't appropriate for a woman—even a detective—to enter such a house. After all, she wasn't there to search Mr. Potter's space.
But then there was that brief incident with his wife.
Is it about his loans? I knew they were illegal. I knew it. I should have left him a long time ago.
Though distasteful, the lead could come from anywhere, and it would be foolish to dismiss the invitation of a suspect to his home. In most cases, an invitation was a good way to bypass a warrant. "Very well."
Inside, the office appeared relatively tidy. A bit of clutter. Papers haphazardly stacked under a few paperweights. A few finance books serving as coasters. But it wasn't quite the drug-infused den of sin she had expected. Perhaps she had been too harsh on him.
And then a woman entered from the back. Her high heels clicked elegantly on the concrete floor. She was tall, dark-haired, and had a tremendous bust. For a moment, Nymphadore mistook her for Potter's wife—but she wasn't as pretty, her eyes slightly smaller, and her nose more regal than regal. She was wearing a tight, tiny showgirl outfit—shimmering sequins in the front, feathers in the back, and devilishly sexy black fishnet stockings winding around her long, utterly beautiful legs.
"Is there anything I can fetch for you, Master?"
He smiled. "No, Tracey. We're good. Miss Tonks, would you like something?"
"I told you, it's not Miss, it's—"
"Right." He patted his head. "Ma'am. Of course."
"Would you like anything, sir?"
He played with an object in his hands, sitting back on the desk. She wasn't quite sure what it was.
Her lips were firm. "No. Perhaps a few more outfits for the two of you."
Tracey looked confused. "Master?"
"Come back," he said. "Show Daphne how to do that thing with the tongue that you did earlier with Susan. It was great." As she left, his face admired her backside with a sinister smile. I'll have to remember to have them stop calling me "sir" in front of guests. It didn't seem like he was speaking to Nymphadore. It seemed like he barely noticed her presence.
No matter. She didn't want to be there any more than he wanted her to be. It would be over soon. She just needed his answers to these questions.
"As I mentioned before, Mr. Potter, the ministry employee couldn't answer these questions."
"I know what you told me," he interrupted. "I'm not sure I see the connection between these two culprits. Besides the fact that either of them could be a hidden drunk."
She furrowed her brow slightly. "We have witnesses who claim to have seen you enter the ministry at eleven forty-five in the morning. We also have footage from a security camera showing you entering the café premises just before the barista reported her incident. Is it all just a coincidence? Are you telling me you didn't see anything unusual?"
It seemed like he noticed something behind the desk. His erection stiffened. Nymphadore now watched the growing flesh, somewhat bewildered by its audacity. Oh, God, help me, she thought. His sight made her pulse strangely quicken. The fact that he was so open. So freely and confidently, so sure of his role in commanding what he might want or say...
What he and his assistant were saying to each other didn't seem like an attempt or even role-playing. It seemed... more real. Nymphadore fought back. He approached the desk, shuffling papers with one finger.
"If I may, how did you manage to connect these two cases?" he asked.
"Well... I sit at desks most of the time. I heard about these two reports and investigated the matter. You know, like a detective?"
"I'm just impressed, that's all."
Now she stepped closer. She convinced herself that she wanted to see what he was hiding, but deep down, she knew she wanted another glimpse of that hard, cum-covered cock. A cock that had evidently inspired three beautiful women to call him "Master." What kind of luck did she have to end up in such a twisted den of perversion?
She licked her powdered lips, and her pussy quivered. Oh God, it smelled like eighteen hours of nonstop sex in here. Not that she would know for sure how it smelled. Nymphadore had been a virgin her entire life.
She glanced at the desk and saw the metal he was shuffling with his foot. They were coins. He was digging through a massive stack of galleons.
All this time at the ministry. Time wasted. Somehow, he had blackmailed them. Creating a network of control. Maybe he had also paid off the barista. She stumbled upon a conspiracy. She had to call someone... she had to... to...
The object in his hands dangled down. A crystal, translucent, slightly smoky, a pendant that could suit both a man and a woman. That was it. Not a wand.
"Mr. Potter, you are under arrest on suspicion of... of..."
"Yes?"
He raised the pendant higher, smiling. "I've been waiting."
"What are you doing? Didn't you hear me?" "Nothing. Just checking how the light reflects, that's all." She started laughing, despite the circumstances. There was a flash of light.
IT WAS THE BEST FUCK Nymphadore had ever had in her life.
It was also the first fuck of her life. Her virginity was completely obliterated by the incredible power of this beautiful communion. But that wasn't the most important part. She somehow felt aware of every possible configuration of intercourse, every last position, timing, and skill that was coerced and utilized, every single pair of people who connected with each other in such a complete and loving way, each one passing through her mind in the moments just before her God's cock thrust into her.
None of those things, no other pair, no other position, no other fuck—nothing had ever been as good as what Nymphadore was feeling now. As soon as he entered her, she trembled in a mind-blowing orgasm, her voice hoarse from the screams of writhing, scorching pleasure.
It was truly a divine revelation. Somehow, she was in a church. She remembered arriving at the illusionist's workshop, but as suddenly as she found herself there, she somehow found herself in a church. She went there every Sunday, ever since her devout father took her there, kneeling and praying for guidance, love, and acceptance from her God, even though she was cursed, a wizard who was a magical enforcer of the law. As she knelt, praying, an angel descended. A beautiful woman with jet-black hair and caramel skin, her body magnificent and nude, every inch of her angelic form assigned to divinity. The angel whispered in her ear.
"Everything you knew about God was wrong, my dear. But I will show you the truth."
In response, Nymphadore could only grunt, her mind melting in the warm lakes of desire. This being spoke to her—favored her. It showed her the light, the way! It was glorious. Zeal filled her heart.
Somehow, she knew that her new God knew about Nymphadore—about her strong faith in the Church. About her unwavering belief in the old God and her Savior, instilled in her by her devout father. And He took all of that and turned it upside down, making her realize just how utterly false every belief of hers had been. All those beliefs, all that mythology, had never had anything to do with the true God, the true Savior, who now thrust into her eager, hot, no longer virgin cunt with His world-ending cock.
She stared at His magnificent, divine body, moaning in ecstasy and biting her lips to refrain from shouting His name. That would be sacrilege.
She had never felt so full, so fulfilled. God was inside her. But not the old, traditional God—the one she learned about in church every vacation when she returned from sinful Hogwarts. No, this was some new, upgraded version. The modern testament of everything masculine and hot, everything deserving of feeling her within.
She was a vessel for His will, and His will was perfection.
"Give me your child!" she whimpered, her voice bordering on delirium. "Please, my God! My God! Your child, please! In my body! Let me be the vessel! Let me, oh please, let me, please!"
He turned her on her side, fucking her at a new angle. His blessed cock plunged even deeper into her fertile fields. His hands roughly grabbed her breasts, using them as handles to thrust into her pussy. She moaned, successive orgasms unfolding like a cosmic assembly line, bursting out of her in waves.
As her eyes tried to focus somewhere, she noticed a woman watching her from the other end of the temple through a window. Stunningly beautiful, with dark hair and green eyes, a face like a model, surely one of the most beautiful Nymphadore had ever seen in her entire life. Nymphadore felt a deep sympathy towards her. Was that wrong?
No. Nothing was wrong. The voice told her so. Nothing in the world could be wrong now. Was the observer an angel? Did she know of the sanctity of her new God? Most likely. How could anyone not know? Nymphadore screamed as another orgasm shook her body. When she looked back at the window, the observer was no longer there.
And that was fine. Her God was nearing orgasmic zenith. She could feel His balls slapping against her ass, so full of His Divine Will in the hot, intense form of His seed. His hands were so rough and hot on her breasts, pulling her closer and using those thick, hot cocks as handles.
"I'll fill you," he grunted. "Give you my fucking glory, impregnate you on the first fuck, damn it...". "Yes!" Her mind was consumed by pleasure and possibilities. Taking care of this divine young man would fulfill all her goals as a woman. "Please, yes!"
And around them, a chorus of angels, other perfect servants of His, crying out His glory and begging Him to release Himself in this newest of worshippers.
"Release yourself in her, Lord!" they moaned. "Release yourself to your disciple! Release yourself in her body! Oh God, she needs it from You, Master!"
His thrusts became faster and faster, resembling jerks, and his entire being trembled and shook as he entered her. It was indescribable. The warmth of His divinity filling her, and so much of it! Her body trembled with orgasm time and time again; she felt like it would never end. Her thoughts vanished. When she returned to herself, or whatever was left of her consciousness, her God was above her. His Holy Shaft still dripped with semen onto her thighs. She felt so fertile. She was certain she was pregnant.
Her body changed, her power found its purpose, transforming her, but not as strongly as before. Now, she became a more ideal image of herself, for her master and his future child.
"Oh, please, have you blessed me, my Lord? Have you granted me this? My virgin body, created only for you, only for you..."
He simply smiled and shook his head. His angels at His side kissed His naked hips and buttocks, and one slid down His holy shaft, wiping away the juice of His Holiness.
"I think I may have gone a little overboard with you," said God. "It was that cross on your wrist. The bracelet. It inspired me." He extended a pendant. It looked strangely familiar, though she knew she had never seen it before. "Take this. Look at it very carefully, alright? It's my command."
And she looked, her body finally detached from the rigid firmament of her faith, her thoughts slowly settling into a completely calm, blissful puddle.
Chapters 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9 are already on Pa tr eon
If you would like to read the next chapters faster, see exclusive content, or support my work, please visit
Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)