Chapters 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 ,13 and 14 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

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Harry immediately appreciated the shower. His old apartment was one of those run-down places in a college town, and the water pressure left much to be desired. Standing under the hot, strong stream of water, with steam rising in the bathroom, he felt more relaxed than he had in weeks.

He thought about his mother, Astoria, and Daphne. It was strange to be back and know that he would be seeing them every day, almost seamlessly slipping back into the role of son and brother. He had tried to punish his father by reflecting the distance he kept from their family, but it was clear that the others had missed him too.

Well, except for Daphne.

He felt a strange mixture of irritation and something harder to place as he remembered her coming downstairs in her pajamas and rummaging through the fridge with that defiant energy. Calling her a bitch even in his mind seemed unfair, but he couldn't help it. Yet, she was his sister, whom he loved and tried to get along with.

He finished his shower, dried off, and went to his room. He also needed to do laundry since he had brought home mostly dirty clothes. It took him a few minutes to sort everything and carry a load to the washer in the basement. It wasn't until he was tossing everything into the machine that he remembered the remote in his sweatpants pocket and pulled it out.

He added soap and started the cycle, then took another look at his strange find. There were no identifying descriptions on it besides the words "Master Pulse" written in white and pink, which was suggestive in itself. Even so, the idea that it might be a vibrator seemed too presumptuous to accept.

Harry returned to his room and decided to Google the name and model number. He found a website that matched and stared at it in blank shock, surprised even though it was exactly what he expected. The Master Pulse was indeed a vibrating massager, though the model description labeled it as a "powerful, pulsating vibrator," not just a simple sex toy.

The device was small, with a long tail for easy removal. The website promised it could stimulate a woman's clitoris and G-spot while sending strong pulses to her inner thighs and buttocks.

The device had 10 unique intensity settings and was, of course, waterproof for use in the bath or shower. There was even an alarm setting that would activate if the person with the inserted vibrator tried to remove it without the remote holder's consent.

He stopped reading and leaned back in his chair, stunned and silent. He had to accept the facts, no matter how grim and conflicting they were. Someone in his family had bought this sex toy. His mother or one of his sisters had purchased the vibrator and had used it or had it used on them—at least once, given that the remote was lost in the couch.

He felt himself getting the strangest, most inappropriate erection of his life. He considered the option of closing the browser tab, putting the remote back where he found it, and trying to erase this episode from his memory. If only it were that simple. This wasn't something he could forget, even though it would lead to a much healthier outcome.

The worst part was that it seemed like a mocking contrast to his own situation. The vibrator, based on how it was advertised on the website, was closer to something used in BDSM, a dom punishing a submissive, rather than even a vanilla sex toy.

His own sex life, in comparison, was so lacking that it had ended his last relationship. This made him feel oddly heated, but more in the sense of frustration than true anger.

The door to his room suddenly opened. Harry hurriedly closed the browser tab and slipped the remote out of sight. Daphne walked confidently into his room, her short blonde hair still wet from the shower. She was wearing a towel and nothing else. Harry tried not to look at the spot where the towel tucked into a fold just to the right of her left breast. A trickle of water glistened in the cleavage of her pale, compressed bosom.
"Jerk," she said. "Didn't you hear me tell you not to use all the hot water?"

"Ever heard of knocking?" Harry stood up and took a step toward his sister. "Besides, I heard you just as clearly as you heard me when I asked you to leave me some milk."

"There was hardly any left," she said, raising her chin. "Jerk."

"Whiner. Go finish your shower."

"Or what?"

He felt a heat emanating from her body, or at least he imagined it. He wished he had the remote in his hand, that he could just press a button and send her to her knees, gasping in surprise and pleasure. He felt his cock getting hard again, even though it was the last thing he needed.

Daphne let out a sudden gasp as her towel suddenly slipped off on its own. Harry watched as the towel fell to the floor, and his older sister stood before him completely naked. She immediately tried to cover herself, but not before he got a glimpse of her pale, plump breasts and the faint blonde hair adorning her perfectly shaped pussy. She was incredibly sexy, but she was still his sister, and he would do anything to win their argument.

"Jesus Christ, Daphne!" he shouted. "Are you trying to say something by showing me your flabby body?"

"Fuck you!" she hissed in frustration as she quickly knelt to grab the towel. "I'm not flabby!"

"Get out of my room and go finish your shower!" He wanted to push her, but she was already leaving. It was probably better that she didn't look back. He had an embarrassingly visible erection that would have been impossible to hide if she had seen it.

Harry had no intention of staying home all day. He left almost immediately after meeting with Daphne, largely due to growing irritation and frustration. He took the remote with him.

He could have easily left it in his room, but its existence and the way he found it were surreal. Part of him worried it might simply disappear if he let it stray too far from him. He wondered how he could trace it back to whoever it belonged to. The simplest approach seemed to be trying to turn it on, checking if he heard anything vibrating from behind his mother's or sister's door, while playing with the settings. He tried it as he was leaving. Nothing happened, which wasn't unexpected.

The slim device had batteries, but he was almost certain they were dead. It required watch batteries, which was a bit annoying since he was sure he wouldn't be able to find any at home. However, it gave him a clear enough goal for the day. He would go to the mall and see what he could find in the department and electronics stores.

He remembered that he didn't have to walk everywhere if he didn't want to. Sirius had bought him a motorcycle in his last year at Hogwarts, partly against the wishes of his worrying mother. Harry had left it in storage at his father's friend's place, in a small shed on his property, to which he still had the key. He even kept his motorcycle license current.

Regardless, he was on his way to the mall, so he thought he would drop by and see if the motorcycle still worked. And if it didn't, maybe he could even get some of what he needed for repairs during the same trip. He put on jeans and a light windbreaker and left the house.

Surrey mostly hadn't changed from the quiet, small town off the beaten path where he had spent most of his youth. It was familiar in a surreal way, and every encountered change made him question his memories. Wasn't there a car dealership on the corner of Farell Street? Did that burger restaurant have a new name under new management?

He first headed to the mall since it was on the way to his bike. Theoretically, he could have taken the bus, but the walk helped clear his mind. The sky was cloudy in a cool way, not threatening rain, so he was glad he had brought his windbreaker.

The route he usually took to the mall led from the back of the house. It was this fact that caused him not to immediately notice that there were no cars in the sprawling parking lot in front of the mall, nor pedestrians milling about on the sidewalk. The mall was closed, and it had been for some time.

"Alright," he muttered. "Note to self: not everything is exactly as it was before I left."

In a way, it seemed to mirror his dilemma with the remote and the mysterious erotic toy, the changes he saw in Astoria and Daphne, and even in his mother. He had left, without the context of the last four years.

The mall put him in an uneasy state of mind as he continued his quest for his motorcycle. It was a long walk, almost forty minutes, with the last part leading through a rough, rundown road where every other house was abandoned. He was sure it would be a similar situation, his motorcycle lost to the elements, or maybe just completely missing.

He was pleasantly surprised when he found it exactly where he had left it after unlocking the shed. It was even covered with a blue tarp, which his father's friend must have thrown over it for added security. He unwrapped it like a Christmas present, running his hand over the handlebars and feeling a flood of silly memories come rushing back. Racing through town like the teenage hooligan he once was. Scenic rides through winding hills. The horror of getting caught in the rain.

But would it start? That was the real question. He took it off the stand and wheeled it outside. On the first try, it only made a grinding noise, but that wasn't unusual. The wonderful purr it made on the second attempt brought a smile to his face. He put on the helmet he had wisely left in the rear cargo net and hit the road.

The ride home was exhilarating. He had forgotten how free he felt, the wind rushing by, the sense of control as he navigated the roads and streets of Surrey. It was even more surreal as he sped along roads he knew like the back of his hand, noticing all the little changes brought about by the relentless passage of time.

He returned home via a winding route, arriving just before three o'clock. He parked the bike in the garage and took off his helmet. As he walked into the living room, he noticed that the hot tub cover beside the pool in the backyard was off. Daphne must have used it earlier, but that was always one of their mom's pet peeves.

He stepped out onto the deck to cover it, feeling less annoyed than he expected, given that he was cleaning up her mess. It was only then that Harry remembered his clothes in the washing machine and hurried to the laundry room. He found them sitting on top of the dryer, not in it, tossed aside by Daphne, who hadn't bothered to do him the same favor.

His irritation peaked as he threw them into the dryer and started it. He marched to Daphne's room and knocked on the door. Her music was playing even louder than it had the night before. "Next time, put my clothes in the dryer!" he shouted. "And turn down the music!"

He didn't expect a response and didn't get one. Harry took a deep breath and let it out, deciding he was done arguing with his older sister for the day.

Chapters 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 ,13 and 14 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)