Harry had never slept with a girl before. That was a first for him. Hell, he had never fucked a girl before. It was difficult to drift off completely and he only managed it in brief stints. Sometime around midnight one of those brief stints was interrupted by Pansy straddling him in a sixty‑nine position and sucking his cock. Once he had achieved a state of semi‑consciousness he pulled her hips down and began to torture her pussy with his tongue. This situation did not last because once Pansy had induced a satisfying erection she got off him, turned around, mounted his shaft, and fucked him fiendishly. Due to the earlier aerobic activity Harry's cock was slow to the finish and she rode him for half and hour, enjoying several orgasms, necessitating her collapse onto his chest with each orgasm to catch her breath before restarting her assault. Harry's cock, balls, abdomen and bum were wet with her juices. Finally he bucked his hips up forcefully, spearing her horny little honey pot deeply, and his cock swelled and spewed cum deep inside her.
Four hours later Harry mounted her sleeping form in a sixty‑nine and returned the favor. Their final tryst was at 9:00 AM in the shower. Neither of them came, but it was still fun. She had to be in the shop by 9:30 AM to prepare for opening at 10:00 AM so it was a quick bite of toasted crumpet that they shared and then Harry disapparated back to Grimmauld place.
Kreacher eyed him up and down and said, "Master has purchased muggle clothing?"
"Yes, Kreacher."
"Shall Kreacher dispose of some of your worn-out clothes and put your new apparel (gesturing to the bag he carried) away?"
"Thank you Kreacher. I would appreciate that very much," Harry replied.
Harry's courtesies always made Kreacher wince but the elf had learned not to complain about it openly. Kreacher had learned that his griping encouraged him to do more.
"Kreacher, I must go to Gringott's for business. I will return later."
"Very good, master."
There was a nostalgic memory of entering Diagon Alley through the Leaky Caldron and Harry decided that he would enter in that manner this morning. Apparating into a London alley nearby he made his way into the Leaky Caldron from there. Perhaps it was a mistake. If he was acclaimed heroically when he first entered the barroom at eleven years of age, his reception now was many times greater. The better part of twenty‑minutes was required to acknowledge all the good will and thanks that he received. Typically polite, Harry patiently acknowledged everyone. One of the well wishers was Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff girl from his year and fellow member of the DA who fought with distinction in the final battle. It was good to see her. Harry greeted her warmly and she gave him a particularly enthusiastic hug and even kissed him keenly. Harry di not pursue it.
Upon entering Diagon Alley he chanced upon Ernie MacMillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley, two more Hufflepuffs and members of the DA, as they exited a shop together and Harry was walking by. Harry engaged them in warm greetings and a friendly conversation. As the conversation turned to what they were doing with themselves it took an unexpected turn.
"What are you both doing with yourselves now?" Harry had queried.
The boys looked at each other with slightly anxious glances and then Ernie spoke, "Actually Harry, we would appreciate it if we could ask you about something. Do you have a moment?"
"Sure," Harry replied. Veterans of the final battle and of the DA, these were among Harry's most trusted colleagues and he, of course, could spare time for them.
Pulling Harry aside from the main traffic on the street, Justin began, "We're getting what might be called fan mail, Harry, since we sat for interviews with Luna and she began publishing our stories. Some of the mail is very nice and some of it is, I'm not sure how to describe it so shall I say, unexpected."
Harry smiled. Justin had always impressed Harry as being something of a throwback to the model of an Edwardian gentleman. Nevertheless, after all that they had been through together, Harry had grown to appreciate Justin as a trusted mate, along with Ernie.
"Oh, yes," Harry replied, "I think I know what you're referring to. Missives from the ladies, is it?"
They shook their heads vigorously in affirmation and Ernie then inquired, "Are you receiving them too?"
"I believe I am but, honestly, I haven't looked through any of my mail. There's a considerable amount of it and Luna recommended that I hire an agency to sort it through for me. They forward only the vital notices or those from friends."
"Well," continued Justin, "what we want to know is, if you could advise us please, what should we do about it? Some of the entreaties are, how to put it, revolting things but others are, in a word, tempting."
"Perhaps I should pick up some of my mail and go through it myself," Harry mused aloud. "As for what I might suggest, why not take advantage of some of the offers? If in your judgement one or two of the offers seem sincere and the girl is attractive enough then, why not?"
The boys looked at each other again and seemed to come to a silent agreement on the matter.
Harry added, "I'd like it if you both kept in touch. I'll make sure that any mail you send me is put through. I'd like to know how you are and how my advice works out for you. Contact me anytime, about anything. You are both, after all, mates." Harry was not sure if he should reveal that he had connected with Pansy Parkinson so he did not go any further.
"Thank you, Harry. We appreciate it," said Ernie.
Justin added, "We will indeed keep in touch as suggest, mate."
With that they amicably parted and went on their way. As he approached Gringotts the thought occurred to Harry that celebrity had always been thrust upon him uninvited while Gilderoy Lockhart had eagerly attracted attention and celebrity status, proving to be his undoing in the end. Snaglok was his usual dour self but carefully listened to Harry's request despite that.
"Well, Mister Potter, this will require the engagement of a muggle solicitor. That can be arranged through your muggle bank. Entreaties shall be made from here, an offer will be negotiated with Mister Bertram Fanshawe, as you suggest, an appropriate muggle contract will then be prepared. The process will require several days. We will notify you when you should meet with Mister Bertram Fanshawe to sign the contract. A muggle bank draught will then be issued to you and you will deliver it in person."
With that Snaglok indicated that their business had concluded. Harry rose and thanked Snaglok, to which Snaglok offered no acknowledgment nor an appropriate response. Harry took his leave. Before he returned to Grimmauld Place Harry stopped by the agency holding his mail and retrieved a stack of to examine in more detail at home. He also provided a list of the members of the DA to ensure that their mail would reach him expeditiously.
Kreacher had prepared a light lunch of Spotted Dick and, afterward Harry installed himself in his room and began to look through his mail. He specifically had chosen a stack of mail sorted into the category: Propositions. After examining a dozen Harry thought that maybe the category should be further divided into additional categories, one possibly being: Lewd. They weren't all lecherous. Women of a broad range of ages, roughly between early teens to late forties, seemed to have a romantic interest in him. Perhaps because of his recent sexual experiences with Luna and Pansy, he regarded many of the lewd and kinky selfies with some amusement. Most were not terribly creative, being nude selfies including performances of masturbation with and without sex toys, demonstrations of oral techniques with sex toys, demonstrations of oral techniques with living dicks, striptease performances (he liked those), or what could only be classified as a pornography performance with one or more male partners (he did not understand why those performances were expected to entice him).
Then there were the girls who dressed scantily, usually including an expansive bare midriff exposing their attractive figure and flat stomachs, and performed a dance with hand gestures and swinging hips. These often emphasized the swell of their impressive cleavage and sometimes their shorts were open, unzipped, and provided a view of their carefully shaved or trimmed mons. They skillfully displayed their vitality, sex appeal, and physicality. Harry thought these performances were more appealing than the outright pornographic ones. Those were photos he would keep. Then, unexpectedly, he came across one from someone he knew, Hannah Abbott.
Hannah was obviously proud of her figure and displayed it without shame with open jeans shorts and a halter top tied off snuggly under her boobs. Her overall figure was not unlike Hermione's with the only difference being her hips may have been wider. Harry spent several minutes watching the performance in the magical photo, with her come-hither expression, rocking hips, and expressive arm gestures. Remembering her warm greeting earlier in the day he realized she had been obviously flirting with him but he was too thick to get it.
Moving to his desk Harry safely stored the magical photos and their matching letters that he had selected to keep while the discard pile he banished with his wand. Then Harry sat down to write Hannah a brief note expressing his appreciation for her correspondence, and inquiring if she would like to join him soon for a butter beer at the Leaky Caldron. Harry had not yet purchased an owl to replace Hedwig, who was more a trusted companion to Harry than a mere post‑owl, so replacing Hedwig would take time before he was emotionally prepared to do so. Consequently, Harry would need to summon an owl from the magical postal service with his patronus. Fifteen minutes later a great grey owl scratched at his window and he dispatched his letter to Hannah.
It was getting late. Harry wanted to wander down to the haberdashery shop where Pansy worked and tell her the news about the arrangements he had initiated to purchase the shop. It was a brief walk from Grimmauld Place and when he walked in she was engaged with a client. Pansy smiled at him and Harry settled into a chair to observe the transaction. A middle-aged man with glasses and a balding pate, he was specifically looking over the selection of neckties. Pansy fawned over him and made sure he received a good view of her beautiful tits that were alluringly presented in the Slytherin green bustier she wore under her business jacket. The man finally left very close to closing time having purchased three neckties, two tie bars, two silk shirts, and a half‑dozen gentleman's handkerchiefs. Her sales techniques were certainly impressive and effective.
Alone with her now Harry said, "You're a natural pitch‑woman, Pansy."
"Thank you, Harry. That means a lot to me coming from you," Pansy replied. "You look nice, Harry, so much better now that someone taught you how to dress yourself properly."
"I've got some good news for you," Harry began.
Pansy interrupted. "It's closing time. Mister Fanshawe isn't here. Let me lock up, turn out the lights, and we can talk upstairs. OK?"
Harry watched as she went through her closing routine as she had yesterday and, finally, came over to Harry, took his hand, and walked with him through the back room and upstairs to her flat. Upon entering she went to the closet, removed her coat and hung it up. Then, dressed in her bustier and pants, she took Harry's hand again and walked him over to the couch where they sat down.
"Ok, my stallion, tell me the news."
Then Harry explained the arrangements that he had made with Snaglok earlier in the day. As he spoke Pansy's expression grew more and more astonished.
"You, were serious, then – about your offer to buy the shop and make me your business partner? I assumed you were just simping me so you could get laid! Fuck, Harry!" And with that she straddled Harry's lap and began kissing him ferociously. After a minute she pulled back, held his face in her hands, and looking straight into his eyes she said, "You were going to get laid regardless, whether you knew it or not. You, Harry, can come to me any time and fuck me raw, at your pleasure. You're my precious stallion." Then she ran her hand down his torso and slipped her fingers under his waistband and probed in his pants in search of his champion dick. She found it swollen but not yet hard so she began to massage it back to life.
Harry closed his hand around her wrist and said, "Before you express your gratitude, Pansy, I have some questions, if that's Ok."
She stopped the massage but did not withdraw her hand. "Yes, ok, my stallion."
Harry gently extracted her hand and held it in his. "I wanted to ask you about the restraints on your bed. Please don't misunderstand me, there is no room for jealousy between us and I'm not judging you. I'm curious and want to learn more. You know I lack experience and, perhaps, you can take under your tutelage."
"Oh, I shall, my stallion, with great enthusiasm. You could not have asked for a better instructor."
"First, it's obvious that you enjoyed being tied up. When did you discover that, and how?"
"Yesterday, with you," came her answer, to Harry's complete surprise. His eyes searched hers for answers. "I'm no plebe, Harry, if that's what you're thinking. If you promise that you won't judge I will share with you that my estimated body count is in the range of eighty to one‑hundred; I don't maintain an exact reckoning. That includes both boys and girls. But I used those cuffs and straps on my conquests. No one has been alpha‑dominant enough to attempt to use them on me, until you. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that your equipment also exceeded my previous experience. You're truly a champion, my stallion. But there is so much more to show you."
It took a moment to consider what she had just admitted to him. After a moment he said, "Thank you for your honesty, Pansy. I certainly won't judge you. I appreciate your openness. Thank you. What do you want to show me, then?"
Merlin this boy is a fucking treasure, so unlike any boy in my previous experience. He just thanked me again, and with perfect sincerity! Slytherin house would not have been a proper sort for Harry Potter. Pansy then stood up and, gently pulling his hand, she guided him over to her dresser. She opened the top drawer and it was full of an array of paraphernalia that were unfamiliar to Harry, except for the dildos, cuffs, belts, and collars.
"Where did you learn about all these things? Where did they come from? What are they used for? Do they really help?"
Pansy giggled. "One at a time, Harry. First, as to learning, there's more knowledge and craftiness in Slytherin house than what's necessary to compete for the house cup. Throughout history mankind have tortured and tantalized their fellow man. Slytherins believe that the creative methods and techniques developed throughout history originated with witches or wizards that, although such a category did not yet exist in antiquity, possessed all the valued characteristics of a Slytherin. The fact that our house is housed in a dungeon should have been your first clue. Our dungeon at Hogwarts has a private library of knowledge accessible only to Slytherins, and such delicious ideas it contains. So that explains where I learned what I know. I was one of the most avid users of our private library, believe me."
"As to where they came from, there are shops in London's East End that cater to all human weaknesses, perversions and kinks. Since I began to earn muggle money I began a collection of these items. Muggles are very clever and industrious, Harry, and they manufacture this kind of stuff with great cleverness. So, that explains the where they came from."
"How are they used; you want to know? Well, you will learn that through their use and I am sure I will enjoy every lesson."
"Do they really help? Oh, they do very much, I can assure you. All my conquests could attest to my skill in the use of these instruments and the effect I had on them. Any more questions?"
"Do you use them on your conquests, as you call them, or do they use them on you?"
"Good question, my stallion. I use them. Just as with the restraints, no one has been sufficiently alpha‑dominant enough to use anything on me. But you, my stallion, are going to enjoy the great privilege of introducing me to the receiving side of my most wicked perversions. Are you excited?"
Harry did not answer but instead picked up a device that looked like a short police baton, wrapped in leather ribbons, with perhaps fifty or sixty thin leather laces attached to one end and a loop of leather attached to the other end that terminated in a series of knots. "What is this?" Harry queried.
"Oh yes, my stallion, a great choice. That is called a flogger. It's a type of whip. The end of the handle is called the butt and there's a single loop of leather threaded through it. These laces are called the falls. Here's another variant," and she picked up another from the drawer that was similar but the falls all ended in knots. "The advantage of a flogger is that it tenderizes a larger area without raising nasty welts or breaking the skin. The knots in this one are, from what I have observed, sting wickedly. The single loop of leather strip hanging off the butt of the handle is used once the user has raised the blood to the surface of the target area and heightened its sensitivity. Flicking the area with these knots can sting intensely. Do you want to use this on me, my stallion?"
"Perhaps, if you misbehave," he tempted. Harry's imagination was wrapping itself around the possibilities. Pulling a clear lidded plastic box out of the drawer Harry asked her to explain the odd little components inside.
"Oh my fucking Merlin, yes! These are various types of nipple clamps. I've never had them applied to mine. It will be another first for me under your dominance of your willing little slut."
Harry lifted one out of the box. It was constructed of two parallel shinny wires with a plastic cap on the ends and a slider that ran up and down the wires. A chain was attached, perhaps sixteen inches long, at the end of which was a ring and two more chains branched from there and terminated with the wire instruments. "Why three? You only have two nipples."
"Two nipples and one clit, my stallion. "Let's demonstrate, shall we?" Pansy unfastened the stays on her bustier and removed it. Then she stripped off her pants. Guiding Harry she showed him how to press the tips of the two wires into the flesh of her areola and then bring the slide up the wires to her nipple; that pinched the wires together tightly into her nipple. "Oh, FUCK," she exclaimed closing her eyes tightly and squeezing out a tear. Harry didn't need another invitation, he brought the next nipple clamp up to her other nipple, and with excruciating slowness, engaged the slide that captured the swollen nipple. "AAAAAH, FUCK YOU BASTARD! AAAAAAHHHHH!" She was breathing heavily now in desperate gasps and more tears streamed down her cheeks. In a while nipples began to numb because the blood supply was cut off but it left an excruciating ache behind. She regained some of her composure.
Harry wasted no time. Extracting a pair of cuffs and straps from the drawer he quickly fastened them to the eye‑bolts at the top of the bed posts at the foot of the bed, then dragged her over and captured her hands in them so that her arms were spread wide over her head and she was facing the bed. With the same urgency he retrieved two more cuffs and straps and fastened them to the eyebolts at the foot of the bed posts then, captured her ankles in the cuffs. This spread her legs apart to the extent that she could barely support her weight on her feet. Pansy hung there with hundreds of kinky thoughts running through her mind about what Harry would do next. What he decided to do was not among them.
She did not have long to wait. Harry removed his clothes then, kneeling on the bed in her full view, he reached down and began to pump his cock, raising it to its full glory. Pansy's eyes were open wide transfixed by the sight before her. She moaned. "Please, my stallion. Please."
"Please what," Harry shot back in a demanding voice.
"Please fuck me. Fuck me now. Fuck me hard. Please, please, please my stallion," she begged.
"Perhaps." Harry reached between her legs and, being careful not to graze her pussy, stroked lightly up and down the delicate skin on the inside of her thighs. She squirmed in her bonds but they afforded her very little slack. He discovered what he was hoping to find, the inside of her thighs were wet. Her cunt was leaking and her juices were running down her legs. Seating himself comfortably before her he took the ring at the junction of the three chains in his hand. With deliberate slowness he began to lift it straight away from her torso.
Pansy began to violently shake her head back and screamed at him, "NOOOO. PLEASE NOOOO. NOT THAT. STOP. STOP. STOP. STOP. AAAAHGH! YOU FUCKING BASTARD." The slack in the chain had been stretch out and Harry slowly, ever so slowly, increased the tension. Her body was rigid in her restraints and she tried desperately to suppress her panting, her eyes squeezing tight in determination as tears flowed down her cheeks. Harry dropped the chain and the sudden weight pulled and evoked another scream, "OWWWWWW." Harry picked up the one unused clamp and brandished it so she could see what he held. " . NO. NO. NO. NOT THAT. You WOULDN'T. YOU CAN'T. PLEASE, I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT. STOP. STOP."
With deliberate slowness Harry brought the two wires down to her groin. She was trying to move away from him but the bonds afforded her no freedom of movement. The wires contacted her flesh on either side of her clitoral hood and she went rigid in her bonds, sucked in her breath, and clenched her jaw. Harry pressed them firmly against the soft flash of her pussy and, pausing for her to bask in the tension of the moment, he then began to advance to slide down toward her ever so vulnerable nubbin. The wires bit into the flesh of the hood and found their purchase on her clit beneath. Pansy screamed.
"FUUUUUCK YOOU SADISTIC FUUUCCKKER! AIIIEEEEEE!"
Harry waited for her clitoris to grow partially numb, as her nipples had, due to the blocking of blood flow. The unbearable pain receded into an unbearable ache, which was worse she could not decide. She was panting heavily and sweating. Her pussy juices were flowing down her legs at a rate equal to the tears flowing down her cheeks. Now, Harry thought, let's try that flogger. Climbing off the bed he went to the dresser and selected the one without the knots, simply because he wasn't sure what he was doing and thought that was the appropriate one for the current situation. It wasn't until she heard the whistle of the falls slashing through the air and the stroke striking her bum did she realize what was happening. She jerked in her bonds. To her surprise the stroke wasn't particularly painful. Harry worked on one cheek and then the other, alternating between them. Then, in a moment of inspiration, Harry stood back and began to swing the flogger with big sweeping fast swings of his arm and stood just far enough away that only the tips of the falls impacted her bum.
That did hurt but the tortuous ache in her nipples, and the unbearable ache in her clit, seemed to reduce the pain of the flogging. She jerked and twisted helplessly in her restraints as Harry whipped her, pausing for a few moments between each stroke to accentuate the anticipation of the next stroke. Her bum soon bloomed into a visible pink blush. He stopped and stepped up to her groping her bum. It radiated heat. Harry's shaft was now hard as steel and very eager. Not yet, he thought. Reversing the handle of the flogger in his hand he swiped the knotted thong across her hot bum in a swift, deliberate strike.
Fireworks went off in Pansy's head and she screamed. "YEEEEEOOOOWWWW. FUUUUUUCK. CURSE YOU, YOU EVIL FUUUCKER. YEEEEEOOOOWWWW."
This was fun! But after a few of those he had to satisfy another urgency that captured his attention. His cock was aching now it was so hard. Stepping up behind her he quickly found his mark and drove into her cunt with deliberate force. Thrusting into her violently with a frenzied need she succumbed to the assault and began to moan loudly. His thrusting punished her sensitive ass as well as he slammed into her again and again. "FUCK ME YOU FUCKING STALLION. GIVE IT TO ME. OH, YES! HARDER! HARDER! FUCK ME. GIVE ME ALL OF IT." His sack began to draw his balls up and he increased his pace. Before it was too late he reached around her, grasped the junction of the chains, and slowly pulled them away from her body. She saw this, then felt it, and screamed bloody murder. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD! YOU DEVIANT LITTLE PERVERT. NO. NO. NO. NO. AAAAAAAHHHHH FUUUUCCCK." The clamps squeezed off of each sensitive organ, one at a time. As they did her cunt began to contract around his cock in powerful spasms and she gushed juices down his shaft, down his sack, and it began to drip onto his feet. With each violent removal of a clip her cunt muscles grasped his cock with a strong clench and held the clench for a few seconds. Powerful rhythmic contraction followed until the next clamp squeezed off. He had enough in him for twenty or so more violent thrusts, sustaining her orgasm until he flooded her womb with his hot, thick spunk.
After a moment he withdrew and sank to the floor. With trembling hands he unfastened the cuffs on her ankle and then, using the bedpost to help him stand, he unfastened one hand. She slumped; legs unable to support her weight. Marshalling his strength he wrapped one arm around her just under her rib cage and with the other freed her remaining hand. Supporting her around her waist he carried her around to the side of the bed and placed her on it. She seemed comatose but there was evidence of her breathing. Arranging her into a semi‑fetal position with her head on a pillow he then crawled in behind her and spooned in tight to her unresponsive form.
Soon, they were both sleeping the sleep of the satiated.
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