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She knelt before him, her mouth coated with his semen. Just moments ago, he had filled her, ejaculating forcefully straight into her G-spot. They climaxed together, but only he emerged from the experience without being dazed. Only he was able to stand on his own and survey what had been unleashed upon the world.
The young beauty, her clothing in tatters and shreds from their passionate lovemaking, waited for his words with every fiber of her being. Previously, she barely spared him any time. Now, everything he said was like the splitting of stardust at the birth of the universe—it formed every other thought she had afterward.
She trembled with anticipation, wanting to hear him, her body still swaying with pleasure, her eyes empty. His cum dripped down her thighs, undoubtedly leaving a substantial mark on the exposed treasure of her wonderfully fertile body.
She was his. Now and forever. And from this point on, he could shape everything around her with just a few words.
"You love fucking me," Harry Potter said.
Her response was automatic, but it vibrated with pleasure and warmth. "I love fucking you."
Even a few days earlier, if he had said that to her, she would have laughed and called him silly or crazy.
There was great power within him. He couldn't explain its origin or nature. All he knew was the truth about her, and even coming to terms with that took him a while.
So what he would tell her would sound strange. Even insane. But it was the honest truth:
His cum induces women into a magical trance.
It all started rather simply. He was on a ladder at the back of Flourish and Blotts, organizing books in the middle of the day. It was one of his main tasks in his employment at that time, though his status had since risen. It was the historical section, heavy books—and unwieldy textbooks. Little did he know, but it was only at work that he noticed how, apart from the textbooks, it was the historical books that seemed to have the strangest shapes. Many of them resembled well-written picture books.
His coworker, Tracey, walked by. Long-legged, brunette, and busty, a force of pure desire brought into this world, or at least that's how it often seemed, created specifically to arouse his senses. Every day, she came to work in outfits that openly invited him to look at her. Tiny skirts that danced around her sexy hips, high socks that glued his gaze to her long legs, flirtatious tops that showcased the incredible expanse of her tanned, ample breasts.
That day was no different. Her outfit was tight and tiny, likely the smallest sweater he had ever seen on her, and a skirt that hugged her ass like a hungry lover. That skirt was an example of how he would hold her ass if given the chance.
And so, he was high above her on the ladder, arranging book after book back on the shelves, unable to stop admiring her bubbly ass, sculpted by that little red skirt, as she stacked magazines on a pile.
He's not quite sure what exactly happened next. He thinks he overreached, or maybe Severus, their resident cat, knocked the ladder off balance. In any case, there was a tremendous crash and a mess. Books flew everywhere, and the ceiling and floor collectively groaned in applause for his foolish clumsiness. The air filled with dust, and he landed on the floor covered in books.
Nothing happened to him, but all the stacks toppled like dominoes, and half the store lay in ruins. For a few moments, he desperately wanted to press the rewind button, as we often do in crisis situations. The brain makes you believe that if you want it hard enough, time can turn back.
"Damn it... Tracey," quick on her feet, she rushed to pull him out of the rubble. "Are you okay, Harry?"
He nodded. Even despite the circumstances and the sizable bruises on his back and hips, he couldn't help but admire the perfect view of Tracey's cleavage as she attended to him. Her necklace brushed against his face, a metal version of a sword and shield based on some book she probably loved.
As he got up, he leaned on Tracey for support. His leg felt difficult and aged, so he slowly straightened it out.
Years ago, he thought he might become an athlete and made it onto Gryffindor's Quidditch team. Four years later, he tore a ligament due to an accident in Potions class. His knee was never the same again.
The entrance door chimed. Through a lock of blond hair, he undoubtedly saw their boss, Daphne, a truly beautiful figure. She returned from the street, where they had bought a few sandwiches. "I heard a crash. Oh God."
She dropped the sandwiches on the counter and hurried over to where he was still stretching his leg, and Tracey was still providing an incredible close-up of her cleavage.
Daphne was wonderful too. A confirmed lesbian and a prominent voice in the magical press, eloquently presenting feminist positions as one of the last true-blooded women on various topics, from equal pay to adoption rights. She was the kind of woman that men swooned over when they wanted to punish themselves. He didn't have such a desire. He believed he was the only man she ever hired, and the only reason Harry was employed was for his positive impact on the bookstore she took over. He still thought she had doubts about him, that she was just waiting for an opportunity to humiliate and embarrass her in the most terrifying public way.
Harry had to admit that sometimes he felt tempted to fantasize about her humiliation. Daphne was a beautiful person, but the past few months at work hadn't been the best. The first month was great—everyone was happy and positive. He immediately started dating Fleur, another employee, which garnered a few strange looks but wasn't that bad. And then the sales started to plummet, Fleur left their relationship in limbo, running away from the country, and everything went to hell.
"Both of you," Daphne said, burying her face in her hands, "you really need to fix this. Immediately."
"I know, boss," Tracey said. "I'm sorry. I think it was Severus..."
"Oh God, Severus!" Harry sprang into action, frantically searching through the wreckage. "Is he okay? I didn't see him. Is he—?"
For a few moments, everyone was consumed with rummaging through books and searching for their mascot. Severus was a cheerful, chubby gray tomcat. He liked to sit on chairs scattered throughout the store, resembling a giant furry cushion. Then, when an inevitable customer almost sat on him, he nestled into their lap, holding them hostage with his deep, rhythmic purring.
Maybe it was because he had been working solely with women for four months, but Harry easily picked up on vibrations. They searched feverishly, and he could tell that Daphne's stress level had reached its absolute limit.
"Here he is," he finally said. Severus stood in a corner of the store, far beyond the disaster area, already dozing off on a chair.
Daphne squeezed his arm tightly. "Good. Okay. That's good. And are you alright? With your leg?"
From time to time, he complained about his knee. Or rather, from time to time, he had to sit down and blame it on his knee. He tried not to whine.
"Yes," he said. "Thank you. I'm fine."
"Tracey?" Daphne asked. "Are you okay too?"
She nodded. "I bumped my wrist a bit, but I'm fine."
Daphne sighed with relief. "I was supposed to drop off these sandwiches and then I had a meeting downtown." She picked up a book from the pile that had formed in the mess and then put it back down. Her eyes were wide open. "I can't... this needs to be fixed."
"We can close," Harry said. "And you can come to the meeting. Everything will be ready tomorrow."
"Close." She shook her head. "When we need sales right now. Where's Padma?"
"She called in," Tracey said.
"This is the third time this week." Daphne moved restlessly. "And it's only Wednesday."
Harry watched as exhausted Daphne slumped onto the counter, her hands fumbling in the cash register out of exhaustion. He could tell she was drained. Today was not what she desperately needed. By a stroke of luck, he had only managed to push her further into despair.
With a deep sigh, Daphne straightened her arms and stood up from the counter, determination etched on her face. Her golden hair cascaded around her face in a heart-shaped cascade, giving her a beautiful appearance.
"Alright, I have to deal with those idiots at the bank. Do what Tracey tells you," Daphne instructed Harry, her tone filled with irritation. "Fix this mess the best you can, okay? It's the worst possible timing. Damn it, I have a whole day, no, a week full of pressing matters and meetings. Write to Padma and ask if she can come, alright?"
She grabbed her purse and left, and the doorbell innocently chimed. But if anyone was inclined towards pessimism, they might wonder how many more times that bell would ring.
Once upon a time, Esy Floresy was the cornerstone of Diagon Alley. Local authors made it a signing spot, and Hogwarts students swarmed the store in the summer to get their textbooks as quickly as possible. Sometimes, even intimate performances by local bands took place in the basement. However, the opening of a Muggle-style online bookstore weakened the business.
Smaller bands, due to better accessibility, began performing in Hogsmeade, and some even moved to the Muggle world, where they could count on a wider audience. The decline in the birth rate of magical individuals and the opening of borders for attending magical schools abroad only worsened Diagon Alley's situation. All of this put the store in serious trouble. Harry believed there were ways to save it, but Daphne stubbornly clung to her own advice while accepting funds from any philanthropist still willing to listen to her proposals. One of those benefactors was Fleur, Harry's ex-girlfriend. He didn't know that their relationship had earned him the staff's wrath because Fleur represented a new order he unknowingly associated himself with.
Now, only four employees remained in the store: Daphne, Tracey, Padma, and Harry. It was far from the original staff of ten. Some moved on to better-paying jobs, while others simply relocated. The remaining employees, all working full-time, strained Daphne's already tight finances. Harry suspected she had stopped paying herself a salary, hoping to weather the storm and find calmer waters.
Unless something significant happened soon, these calm waters would remain elusive. Harry didn't know that the solution to their problems lay within himself.
Five hours later, Harry and Tracey were still hard at work, while Padma was absent due to illness, or rather, a hangover. It was probably for the best as her condition would only slow them down. Working together, Tracey and Harry systematically tackled the mess, gradually making progress. Having moved from town to town throughout her life, Tracey had developed a talent for packing and organizing spaces. Following her guidance, they were nearly finished by evening.
Exhausted, they leaned against the counter, surveying their work. Harry took the initiative to reorganize the store to some extent, with a small shelf up front dedicated to their favorite books, placed next to another shelf featuring bestsellers. The idea was to group lesser-known classics with popular contemporary hits. Harry wasn't sure if it would be effective, but he thought it was worth a try. Daphne, lost in her own thoughts, would probably not notice much anyway. She had a tendency to be resistant to new ideas.
The store now seemed much closer to the desired state. There was a clear path leading to the basement, where used books and graphic novels were stored. The records at the back were no longer in danger of being crushed by unstable stacks of books. Sections for children's books, history, non-fiction, and self-help were all organized. Fortunately, the adult fiction section had been largely spared from the disaster, except for being covered in a layer of dust from untouched pages.
Tracey's experience played a significant role in cleaning and reorganizing the store. As they began moving things, she changed into her workout attire - a pair of tight, small gym shorts and a thin tank top that provided Harry with an even better view of her cleavage than her previous outfit. Her glistening, sweat-covered skin and long dark hair tied up in a loose ponytail added to her allure.
Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 are already available at Pat re on.
If you want to support me, read the next chapters of the story and more, I invite you to my
Patreo n .com(slash)BoobsHunter (Remove spaces)