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Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)
"And I've changed too," he said. "I'm fit. I've been fucking you for, what, an hour now?"
"Yes you have," Hermione moaned, bucking her hips up to his thrusts. "What a man you are..."
"And my cock is huge. And I'm stronger. And I don't even want a drink, for Christ's sake. I can't even say how long it's been since I wanted a drink." "And your cock is huge!"
"I said that."
"It's so fucking big, and good, and hot, and 'mazing..." She lifted herself off the desk by her forearms just a bit, sneering at the audience in the hallway. "Do you hear that, you fucking losers? This is more man than you'll ever be!"
Her orgasm-soaked contempt easily carried through the small, cramped confines of her office to the small gathering of men that had only grown since Harry had started fucking her. When he first walked in, he assumed they were her clients. She revealed to him between fuck sessions that she had basically strong-armed them into accepting the worst possible divorce settlement terms, completely giving up all their individual savings and wealth and agreeing to alimony terms that basically made them the slaves of their ex-wives for years. Harry, whose clear thoughts lasted only as long as his next fuck, hadn't fully thought through the implications of this yet.
"And then there's that," he said. "Those mannequins out there. All so hopelessly in love with you. I don't mind it, I guess, they're watching."
"That's good you don't mind, Daddy," Hermione smiled, then snorted. "They deserve to be humiliated." That earned her a few hard thrusts in a row, until her long, sharp nails left scratch marks on the beautiful desk surface.
"Seems like," he huffed, "the only woman around who apparently doesn't want to fuck me, the only person around completely unaffected, is Padma and-"
"Don't worry about her," Hermione moaned, arching her back up like a cat. "She's already in lockdown. It won't be long now."
He wanted to ask more about the lock-up? Won't be long until what? But Hermione flipped her hair to one side in a gloriously sexy move and snorted again at the audience waiting in the hallway.
"They're all so in love with me," she giggled, her voice sounding practically mindless. "All those stupid little wimps. But I only love you. I fuck up their lives for you. The law changes to fuck them like you fuck me, and it's all because I love you, love you, love you-"
She repeated it and the sound of that exquisite phrase from her perfectly kissable lips was too much for Harry. He came inside her amazing, orgasmic body for the fifth time that day, pulling out after a few shots to spray even more on her back. Marking her as his. She writhed under his load, obviously coming even harder - her number had to be in the dozens at this point. A sheen of hot sweat covered her magnificent curves and tight angles, making every movement of hers all the more sexy.
God, coming inside her and on her felt good. It was right. This new Hermione was what he deserved. The old one was so stupid and hunched over, and...
He shook his head. No. No, that was wrong. This was all wrong. Something kept pounding at him, at his thoughts. It was all wrong, and-...
"Nnng," moaned Hermione, rolling onto her back and back again, rubbing his cum onto herself. Her already shiny skin became even shinier, seeming to absorb the seed instantly and giving her body a finish of pure lacquer. "If those mannequins think I'm sexy, Fleur will really knock them off their feet."
Harry was confused. "Fleur?" "She's even hotter than me." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Surely you've noticed?"
Her composure returned to her faster than his. Maybe some compensatory mechanism for the speed and ease of her many, many orgasms. She was so ready for fucking, all the time, and only for him... God, that was enough to get him hard again... He shook his head. He had to focus.
"No, I mean, how will they see her?" "She's on her way." She smiled brightly, like a good student getting a good answer in class. "Gabrielle too. Haven't you seen me texting them?"
"No, I didn't fucking see you texting my wife and daughter!"
Harry started hastily throwing on his clothes. This hastily dressing to escape from family had become a pattern; one of several new ones. Hermione still pressed her body against his, touching his muscles, shoulders, and chest. Rubbing against him. Her voice slinking into his ear, so soft and insistent and needy.
"Well, yeah. I mean, we're all so invested in Gabrielle. We want to study her technique and show her where she went wrong, and I thought, well, you're here and you're calm and yourself again, so it just makes sense for Auntie Hermione and Mama Fleur to look at Gabrielle while she sucks cock and tell her the best way to get over it."
As she spoke, Hermione absentmindedly began to finger herself, as if the thought of daughter Harry being taught how to have his cock sucked was so helplessly arousing that there was no choice but to resort to self-satisfaction.
"Jesus fucking Christ."
He stumbled over his pants, one leg at a time. Where were his shoes?
"We'll suck you too, to show her how it's done, if you're worried about it." Hermione finally backed off a bit and sat on the desk with a cover-model perfect posture. It took her a long time to cross her lusciously long legs. Somehow, even with clothes mostly torn off and covered in his cum, she looked elegant and sexy. "And we'll finger ourselves while watching.
It won't be all about you. We love to watch." "No. Jesus, no."
He was fully dressed now, just staring at the magnificent Hermione. The blinds were up, he noticed for the first time. Anyone could watch, and some were. Men on their knees, women huddled in small groups. They hunched over elbows and clasped hands, as if they were on some sort of vigil. When the women saw him looking, they beamed and waved. Hoping for his attention.
"Is this entirely fair, Mr. Lawyer?" Hermione asked. "I mean, you let Narcissa give Daphne a lesson earlier, and Daphne isn't nearly as pretty as Gabrielle, though of course she's lovely, and..."
"I don't want anyone teaching anyone about my dick! No one else needs to learn the best way to give me a blowjob!"
Hermione sneered for a moment, then burst out laughing as if it was the funniest thing anyone had ever said to her. She was still laughing when Harry left.
Harry still didn't know what was going on, but his recent orgasm satisfied his desire for a moment. And the clarity he felt during the fuck hadn't yet succumbed to the all-consuming needs of his raging, tulle-covered cock.
"Maybe I've got this figured out," he said, driving through the sparsely populated city streets. "Maybe I'm finally in control here."
He drove to the "lock-up," as Hermione called it - which, he assumed, could only mean the local Aurors station. Somehow, and he didn't know exactly how, the key to understanding all of this was Padma Patil.
In many ways, Padma was the source of all his problems. Maybe not his current problems - with the rapidly growing group of women who seemed both determined to fuck him and teach his daughter how to suck his dick - but all his problems before that.
For years, they had competed for the same clients. Both were lawyers practicing magical law - mostly routine inspections and contract drafting, as well as carefully applying legal pressure to eliminate high-stakes client petitions. She spread rumors about his drinking, femininity, and weakness, and while all of that was true, certainly none of it was a problem until she started talking about it. She hated him. The exact reasons weren't clear to him, but he suspected it had something to do with sleeping with her sister.
That stupid bitch had blown up their entire, very brief, romance. She started saying she loved him and that she would kill herself without him, that sort of thing. Sure, he didn't call her back, but she was a terrible lay anyway, and besides, she was a lunatic, so who cared? He later heard something about her being in a psychiatric unit at St. Mungo's, but that had nothing to do with him.
A few of the sights he saw on the way to the station were actually weird. Earlier, when he was driving to work and to Hermione's office, every new view of gorgeous, hot women made him feel embarrassed and even scared. He saw a tunnel in search of escape from his own erection. This road was longer - the station was on the outskirts of the city due to poor planning (nothing like having the Aurors station on the other side of town when you need it) - and as a result, he had time to admire the sights.
There were no "normal" people here. Not quite. The women were tall and beautiful. The few men who were there walked several steps behind the women, often carrying huge stacks of bags from expensive clothing stores. Several of these men were on leashes. The women stopped and talked to each other, admiring their choices on leashes, spectacular beauties in wide-brimmed hats and gorgeous dresses and blouses with plunging necklines.
One woman with her husband on a leash talked to another with her freed husband and let her try the joys of pulling him this way and that. The collars weren't pretty; most of them looked like some kind of choking collars that were fashionable for badly behaved large dogs. The kind that dug into the body when they were pulled.
Harry, stopping and staring at one of these exchanges, was caught in his voyeurism.
One of the women pointed at him, surprised, with wide eyes. They both stopped what they were doing. The leash holder roughly pulled hers, dragging the man to the ground. Packages spilled around him. She stepped on his neck with one high heel and bowed deeply. The other knelt completely as if praying at an altar.
The light had long since turned green. Harry quickened his pace before his erection became even more urgent. At the Auror outpost in the village, he hoped for some version of normalcy. This was the Aurors! Whatever was happening to corrupt the rest of the culture, politics would surely be exempt. They were there to lead and serve and that was it.
That misplaced hope for conservative reality was shattered in less than a minute after parking at the Aurors station parking lot. Walking through the entrance doors, the first sight he was exposed to was the sight of his own naked legs and cock on a poster hanging above the desk.
Serve and Adore, read the poster. "Holy shit," muttered Harry, shaking his head. This was already a bad idea.
Chapters 3, 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)