Day 13: Selfcest
The thick, bubbling sound of the Polyjuice Potion filled the dimly lit room, the cauldron casting eerie shadows on the stone walls of Snape's private chambers. Harry stood by the door, his heart racing with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Tonight was going to be something entirely new, something neither of them had attempted before, and the very thought of it made Harry's stomach twist in excitement.
Snape stirred the potion with his usual precision, his movements calm and methodical as he added the final ingredient—a single strand of his own hair. The potion hissed and churned, turning a murky, deep green. Harry swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the cauldron as Snape dipped a small vial into the mixture and filled it with the shimmering liquid.
Turning to face Harry, Snape's dark eyes gleamed with intent. "Are you ready for this, Potter?" Snape asked, his voice low and steady, though there was an unmistakable edge of excitement beneath the calm exterior.
Harry nodded quickly, his pulse quickening. "Yeah," he breathed, his voice trembling slightly. "I'm ready."
Without another word, Snape raised the vial to his lips and drank the Polyjuice Potion in one smooth motion. The transformation began almost immediately—Snape's features contorted, his body shifting and shrinking as the potion took effect. Harry watched, wide-eyed, as Snape's form slowly morphed, his sharp features softening, his body becoming leaner and younger.
In a matter of moments, Snape had transformed completely. He stood before Harry now, but it wasn't Snape—at least, not in the way Harry was used to. He was looking at an exact replica of himself.
Harry stared, breathless, as he took in the sight of his own body standing before him. Snape—now looking exactly like Harry—smirked, his lips curling into a dark, satisfied smile as he admired his new form.
"Interesting," Snape—Harry—murmured, his voice identical to Harry's but carrying that familiar edge of Snape's cold amusement. "I always wondered what it would feel like to look at you from this perspective."
Harry's breath caught in his throat, his body responding instantly to the sight. It was strange—so strange—but undeniably arousing to see himself standing there, that dark glint in his own eyes, that same confident smirk playing on his lips. The idea of what was about to happen sent a surge of heat through his body, making his pulse race even faster.
Snape stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate as he reached out, his hand cupping Harry's cheek. The touch was familiar, but the sensation of it beinghishand, hisownface looking back at him, made Harry's stomach twist in the most exhilarating way.
"How does it feel?" Snape—Harry—asked, his voice soft but filled with dark amusement. "Seeing yourself like this?"
Harry swallowed hard, his heart pounding. "It's… strange," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But… I like it."
Snape's smirk widened, his fingers trailing down Harry's cheek to his jaw, tilting his head up slightly so their eyes met. "I thought you might," Snape said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Let's see just how much you like it."
Without warning, Snape leaned down, capturing Harry's lips in a kiss. The sensation was overwhelming—familiar and yet foreign all at once. It washismouth,hislips, but the way Snape kissed him, the way he dominated the kiss with such intensity, left Harry breathless. The idea of kissing himself, of feelinghimselfin this way, was intoxicating, and Harry found himself leaning into the kiss, craving more.
Snape's hands moved down Harry's body, his fingers sliding under the hem of Harry's shirt and pulling it up and over his head in one smooth motion. Harry's breath hitched as the cool air brushed over his exposed skin, but the heat between them quickly overshadowed any discomfort. Snape's hands—Harry's hands—moved over his chest, exploring his body with a familiarity that made Harry's entire body tremble with arousal.
"Does it feel good?" Snape murmured against Harry's lips, his voice a low growl as his fingers trailed lower, teasing the waistband of Harry's trousers. "To have yourself touch you like this?"
"Yes," Harry gasped, his voice trembling with need. "It feels… it feels incredible."
Snape smirked, his hands moving quickly to undo Harry's trousers, tugging them down along with his boxers in one swift motion. Harry's cock sprang free, already hard and aching with need, and the sight of his own arousal reflected back at him made his breath catch in his throat.
Snape—still in Harry's form—wrapped his hand around Harry's cock, stroking him with slow, deliberate movements. Harry gasped, his hips bucking into the touch, his body responding instantly to the pleasure. It was so surreal, watching his own hand stroke him like this, feeling the familiar sensations but knowing that it was Snape, in his body, controlling every movement.
"You're so eager," Snape murmured, his voice filled with dark amusement. "So desperate for yourself."
Harry whimpered softly, his body trembling as Snape's hand moved faster, stroking him with practiced precision. The pleasure was overwhelming, his cock twitching in Snape's grip as he fought to keep himself from coming too soon. The idea of being pleasured by himself, of Snape taking control of his body like this, was driving him wild.
Without warning, Snape pulled away, his hand leaving Harry's cock as he stepped back, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Turn around," Snape commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I'm going to fuck you while you look at yourself."
Harry's heart skipped a beat at the command, his body trembling with anticipation. He nodded quickly, turning around and bracing himself against the edge of the bed, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breathing. He could hear Snape behind him, could feel the heat of his body as he stepped closer, positioning himself behind Harry.
The sound of Snape undoing his trousers sent a shiver down Harry's spine, and he bit down on his lip, his cock twitching with anticipation. He knew what was coming, and the idea of being taken byhimself—by Snape in his body—was almost too much to handle.
Without warning, Snape thrust inside him, hard and fast, filling Harry completely in one smooth motion. The sudden stretch made Harry cry out, his back arching as Snape's cock slammed into him with brutal precision. It was so strange—so surreal—feelinghis owncock inside him, knowing that it was Snape controlling it.
Snape didn't give him time to adjust. He pulled out and slammed back in, each thrust hard and unrelenting, the force of it making Harry's body jerk forward with every movement. Harry gasped, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed as he tried to steady himself, but the pleasure and intensity of the situation were overwhelming.
"You like this, don't you?" Snape growled, his voice thick with exertion as he pounded into Harry with ruthless precision. "You like the idea of fucking yourself."
"Yes," Harry gasped, his body trembling as Snape's cock hit that perfect spot inside him over and over again. "Please—don't stop."
Snape's hands gripped Harry's hips tightly, pulling him back into each thrust with brutal force. The pleasure was overwhelming, every nerve in Harry's body on fire as Snape took him harder, faster. He could feel his cock throbbing, could feel the pressure building inside him, but he knew he wasn't allowed to come yet—not until Snape said so.
Snape leaned down, his breath hot against Harry's ear as he growled softly, "You look so good like this. So desperate. So needy."
Harry whimpered, his body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. The idea of being fucked by himself—of Snape taking control of his body and using it like this—was too much. He could feel the tension coiling tight inside him, his cock twitching with need, but he fought to hold back, to wait for Snape's command.
Snape's thrusts became rougher, more erratic, until with a final, brutal thrust, Snape buried himself deep inside Harry, a low groan escaping his lips as he came. Harry could feel the warmth of Snape's release spreading inside him, could feel the way Snape's body trembled as he held Harry close, riding out the waves of his orgasm.
For a long moment, the room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing, both of them trembling from the intensity of it all. Snape slowly pulled out, his hands lingering on Harry's hips for a moment longer before he stepped back, his breath still heavy as he straightened his clothes.
Snape, still in Harry's form, moved around the bed, grabbing a replinshining potion. He ran his fingers through his now-messy hair—Harry's hair—his expression one of satisfaction mixed with an edge of curiosity as he observed Harry lying spent on the bed.
"Look at you," Snape drawled, his voice, still Harry's, taking on that familiar cutting edge. "Pathetic, exhausted… and yet, I can see you want more."
Harry's breath caught in his throat. It was true—despite how overwhelming the experience had been, a part of him craved more. The mix of submission, control, and self-exploration left him aching in ways he hadn't expected. He shifted slightly on the bed, trying to steady his breathing, but his cock twitched, betraying his continued desire.
Snape noticed, of course. He always noticed.
With a small, satisfied smirk, Snape leaned down, gripping Harry by the chin and tilting his head up to meet his gaze. Looking into his own eyes—into the reflection of himself—was unnerving, but the commanding presence behind those familiar features made it all the more intense.
"You're still hard," Snape—Harry—murmured, his voice dropping to a low purr. "You want more, don't you?"
Harry couldn't speak—his throat was tight, his body still reeling from the pleasure and exhaustion. He simply nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. The idea of more, of continuing this twisted, erotic game, sent a surge of heat through him, even though his body screamed for rest.
"Good," Snape said softly, brushing his thumb over Harry's bottom lip. "I'm not finished with you yet."
Harry's eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he let Snape's words wash over him, the promise of more pleasure, more control, reigniting the fire inside him. He could still feel the lingering sensation of Snape inside him, could still feel the surreal mix of submission and self-exploration that had brought him to the brink.
Snape tugged Harry up from the bed, pulling him into a seated position. Harry's body protested at first, but the firm grip on his chin and the sharp tug of his body was enough to make him obey. He was still dazed, still floating in the overwhelming haze of pleasure and exhaustion, but he couldn't deny how much he wanted more.
"Stand up," Snape commanded, his voice firm.
Harry did as he was told, his legs trembling slightly as he stood before Snape, still in his own form. The sight of Snape—of himself—standing there with that dark, predatory gleam in his eyes sent another rush of arousal through him.
Snape's eyes roamed over Harry's body with a dark hunger, taking in the sight of him, flushed and still half-hard, standing before him. There was a pause—a moment where Snape simply observed, as if savoring the image of Harry in this state before him.
Then, with swift, precise movements, Snape reached out, pulling Harry into another rough kiss. The force of it sent Harry stumbling backward slightly, but Snape followed him, pressing their bodies together as his hands roamed over Harry's chest, his touch possessive and commanding.
Harry melted into the kiss, his body responding immediately to the familiar sensation of his own lips, his own body pressed against him. The idea of Snape, still in his form, still controlling the scene, was enough to make Harry's mind spin with desire.
Snape's hands moved lower, gripping Harry's hips with bruising force as he pulled him closer. The heat between them was palpable, and Harry could feel the weight of Snape's arousal pressing against him once again, a reminder that this wasn't over—not yet.
Without warning, Snape pushed Harry back onto the bed, his movements sharp and unrelenting. Harry gasped as his back hit the mattress, but the anticipation of what was to come made his entire body tremble with excitement. Snape stood over him for a moment, his gaze dark and predatory as he took in the sight of Harry lying beneath him, completely at his mercy.
"On your knees," Snape ordered, his voice low and dangerous.
Harry obeyed instantly, his body moving on instinct as he flipped onto his hands and knees, his chest pressing against the mattress as he waited for Snape's next move. His heart pounded in his chest, his body aching for the continuation of their twisted, erotic game.
Snape didn't waste any time. He climbed onto the bed behind Harry, his hands gripping Harry's hips tightly as he positioned himself. The familiar weight of Snape's body behind him, the heat of his arousal pressing against him, made Harry's breath hitch in anticipation.
Snape thrust inside him without warning, his cock filling Harry in one smooth, forceful motion. The sudden intrusion made Harry cry out, his body arching as Snape drove deep inside him, hitting that perfect spot that sent waves of pleasure coursing through him.
There was no time to adjust—Snape set a brutal pace from the start, his hips slamming into Harry with unrelenting force. Harry gasped, his fingers gripping the sheets as he tried to steady himself, but the intensity of Snape's thrusts made it impossible to focus on anything except the overwhelming pleasure.
"You like this, don't you?" Snape growled, his voice rough with exertion. "Being taken by yourself. Feeling your own body fuck you."
"Yes," Harry gasped, his voice barely audible over the sound of their bodies colliding. "Please—"
Snape didn't let him finish. He drove into Harry harder, faster, his hands gripping Harry's hips so tightly that it bordered on painful. But the mix of pleasure and pain only heightened the experience, sending Harry spiraling into a haze of desire and submission.
The pressure inside him built quickly, the overwhelming pleasure pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Harry's body trembled with the effort of holding back, of trying to keep himself together, but Snape's relentless pace made it impossible. Every thrust pushed him closer, every word from Snape's mouth sending him further into the depths of submission and pleasure.
"I want you to come," Snape growled, his breath hot against Harry's ear. "Now."
With that final command, Harry's body gave in. His orgasm tore through him with staggering force, his cock twitching violently as he spilled onto the sheets below him. The pleasure was blinding, every nerve in his body on fire as he cried out, his body convulsing with the intensity of his release.
Snape continued to thrust into him, riding out Harry's orgasm with unrelenting precision. Harry could feel the heat of Snape's release inside him moments later, the warmth spreading through him as Snape groaned low in his throat, his body trembling with the force of his own orgasm.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all, their breathing ragged and uneven. Slowly, Snape pulled out, his hands lingering on Harry's body for a moment before he finally moved away.
Harry collapsed onto the bed, completely spent, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. His mind was a haze of exhaustion and satisfaction, the weight of everything they had done sinking in. It was surreal—intense—but he wouldn't change a thing.
Snape stood by the bed, his form slowly shifting as the Polyjuice Potion began to wear off. Harry watched through half-lidded eyes as Snape's features morphed back into their original form, his body returning to the familiar, tall, lean figure Harry knew so well.
Snape said nothing as he straightened his robes, his expression calm and composed once more. But there was a flicker of satisfaction in his dark eyes as he glanced down at Harry, taking in the sight of him completely spent and thoroughly used.
"You did well tonight, Potter," Snape said softly, his voice no longer tinged with the mirroring of Harry's tone, but back to its usual smooth, commanding cadence. "Rest now."
Harry nodded weakly, his body too exhausted to respond properly. His eyes fluttered shut as Snape turned and left the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts—and the lingering, exhilarating memory of what they had just shared.
