Dumbledore had a big day ahead of him because he had invited all of his old war buddies over for their annual get together.
"Finally!" He thought.
This was the first year in many that he got to host the Alter Mann erotische Beschwörung, a sacred yearly rite held dear by his steadily dwindling band of brothers. It was being held at Hogwarts that year. with all the students still away on summer vacation he had the place all to himself. There was a dreadful amount of work which needed doing around the castle but rather than overtax his fragile nerves further Albus sagely decided to let the house elves worry about making the drafty old shell presentable while he took care of himself.
"You don't want to be a frazzled mess by the time your guests have arrived," he told himself as he made his morning toilet. He had made mac and cheese again the night before and the process as such was taking a tad longer than usual. "That's right," he agreed, now picking bits of jam from under his toes, " and what's more they couldn't appreciate the amenities of a newly re-freshened castle with a host too exhausted to show them about"
Dumbledore figured he would need a lot of energy for the big reunion so he hurried out onto the school grounds to start his day off right with a fresh yard salad.
"Morning Professor!"
Doppy the house elf called out from behind a dusty ficus he was tending to as Dumbledore bounded past him.
Normally the sight of Doppy's eager to please face, his big, cow like, watery eyes would spike the headmasters blood pressure and set the back of his hand to itching but today was a special day and so Dumbledore paid him no further heed and swung forth the great mahogany front doors. He sprinted down the cobblestone path and inhaled the rich morning air with relish and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. He took a moment to bask in tranquility of the morning soaked front lawn.
Then he began to survey the area for fresh and delicious things to make his breakfast out of.
Immediately his eye was drawn to a vigorous tuft of Crabgrass growing in a springy profusion a few meters off the cobblestone path. Most people prefer something fancy like Tall Fescue or Kentucky Bluegrass but Albus had always thought Crabrass had the most bang for his bite, sure it was a little sodium rich, but he wasn't trying to live forever,. was he? He grabbed several handfuls of that and threw it into his clear crystal salad bowl. Here he was just a few steps out into the yard and already he had found the perfect base for his yard salad.
He resumed snooping about for things to snack on and found some acorns to add to his bowl. Then he added a few crunchy fallen leaves to the mix, they looked to be oak but were mostly decomposed enough to pass for any old leaf. Next he found some wild onion and uprooted near a dozen of them in his excitement, wild onions and crabgrass had been a childhood favorite of his. Finally, as the bacon bits stand-in he crunched up three cicada shells and sprinkled them over top.
Albus grinned at and drooled over his salad with satisfaction; it sure looked hearty and fresh, but he figured he'd need something to wash it down with, and, feeling gay as a schoolboy he skipped down to the lake to grab a hasty handful of water. But to his bemused surprise the water didn't want to stay in his hand long enough for him to make it back to the place where he had planned on eating his salad initially, in the shade of the womping willow.
Instead, he ate his salad by the lake. He watched the giant squid and chocolate frogs swimming about and bent to like a buffalo at a watering hole whenever the urge to slake his mighty thirst struck him. Which was often, the cicada shells were very dry and caught in his throat. At one point he thought he felt a little chocolate tadpole slide down his throat as he slurped up the lake to parch his thirst... he giggled as he imagined the tadpole maturing in his tummy and a full grown chocolate frog hopping out his butt later.
Albus ate his salad, laughing out loud all the while, his lips and teeth stained green, but then all his guests arrived and he left the last bit of yard salad for Doppy the house elf.
"Ohboy oh boy!" He hollered, "I just can't wait!"
And he couldn't at that, he sprang up from his spot by the lake and pumped his scrawny old legs faster than ever he had in all his long, long days.
Dumbledore held his robes up from underneath his feet and ran to meet his old buddies, who, only 4 in number now in these grim latter days, were all disembarking from Herman's plane.
Joe, the group conscience emerged first, followed by Herman the mustachio'd pilot and Eric who were arguing in typical fashion over the comparative merits and disadvantages of air and water travel, Eric had wanted to bring his boat but the others had preferred to fly it would seem.
"C'mon you guys," Joe admonished over his shoulder, "don't spoil another reunion with your bickering!"
Last of the group to emerge was Martin, with his air of protective sternness trailing him like a cloud of ill vapors. He had a golden heart underneath it all, though.
The sight of all his old friends started up a fitful stirring under Albus's robes which he knew wouldn't come to fruition for another half hour at least, being so on in years as he is Dumblerdore was accustomed to waiting for his plumbing to shake the rust loose before he could achieve a full erection. He had been mostly celibate, aside from the annual get to gether's of course, for years now and relished the opportunity to let loose and feel the wind and sun on his most private and cherished of skin, but in the meantime they made casual conversation until their five swords could cross and the ceremony commence.
Albus sure hoped that this year would be the year they succeeded in their crazy plans, even though it would mean the end of the getogethers's he cherished so dear,... the world had been without the leadership it so desperately needed for 7 decades now and with the coming of the planet Nibiru it was more important than ever that a brave new world order coalesced for the protection and betterment of all mankind, even the inferior races.
They had held the gathering every year since the war had ended with never a success, though all involved shed sweat blood and tears in the throes of their enraged passions.
Albus had always tried to be understanding when it came to muggles and treat them as though they were one and the same as wizards and witches, but he couldn't help blame his muggle companions for the successive failures of their reunion ritual... their small non-magic minds couldn't possibly comprehend the intense and arcane forces being tangled with and must have in some way or other prevented the resurrection of the beloved leader-king with their insipid muggle bumblings.
But now that all the muggles in the group had fallen to ravages of time Dumbledore figured today was finally the day.. He caressed himself half heartedly, discovered what he expected, a turgid quasi hardon that needed yet more time...
"Wow, this school is beautiful," Joe exclaimed, as Dumbledore led them into his private chambers.
Inside they served themselves from the bar in the corner, kept well stocked by Doppy the house elf, and arranged themselves by the roaring fire. Eric, Jagermeister in tow, perused the portraits strung along the wall while Herman regaled Martin and Albus with tales of life out on the open sea. Every now and then Herman would scoff Eric's claims of nautical whimsy into a corner; when this happened, Joe, as usual, quelled their bickering.
"What's it like being a headmaster?" Joe asked once Herman had paused his nautical monologue to refresh his glass.
"It's okay, I guess," Albus admitted, truth be told he had expected that headmastery would be a much more exciting career than it had turned out to be.
"Well, don't you at least have some fun with it?" Joe wanted to know, he always had to put a bright spin on things.
Eric had made his circuit about the room and sidled silently onto Martins lap. "Yeah," he added mischievously, "like can't you at least make up a bunch of crazy stuff to tell your students so they look dumb?"
Dumbledore sighed, "yeah I tried that, a bunch of the parents found out and said I'd get into trouble if I didn't quit though..." just thinking about it bummed Albus out and just the telling of it was having a damning effect on the group morale!
Albus you old coot, he thought to himself, you've gone and bummed them all out, now we'll never be able to get boners!
Speaking, or rather thinking, of which Albus could feel his pecker sliding back into neutral. But just then he remembered his ace in the hole, Doppy!
"Oh yeah, but check this out guys," BAMPF! he apparated Doppy into the center of the room.
Germany had freed all its house elves after the war and the others had to practically pinch themselves to believe what they were seeing. A house elf! A real live house elf after all these years!
"Why this is marvelous!" Joe bounded up out of his seat to get a better look at the scrawny pale creature quivering before the enraptured group. He pulled on Doppys thin soft ears and ran a finger around his gums to check for disease, seems to be in tip top shape, he reassured himself.
"Yeah," said Dumbledore, "he came with the place," he folded his arms over the front of his robes, feeling quite cool for having impressed his old pals. "Also he has to do whatever I say! Check it out; Doppy!" he intoned commandingly.
Doppy cowered and held his hands up over his wrinkly bald head, he could tell what was in store from Dumbledores tone of voice and he relished the thought none. "yes sir?" his small quivering voice fluttered about the room.
"It is time for your exercise!" Doppy flinched at the word, "get treadmill!"
"N-n-n-no sir! Please! Not the-"
Dumbledore backhanded Doppy halfway across the room, "You are my house elf and you will do as I say, and I say you are looking flabby and need to tone up for spring!"
"Yes sir mr Dumbledore sir!" Doppy squeaked and then ran out into the hall to drag the treadmill into the room.
It took quite some time, Doppy being just a little house elf and the treadmill a multi hundred pound Goliath of a piece of home exercise equipment. The pathetic struggle earned a few half hearted chuckles. While they watched the wretched little creature heave and pull the thing across the floor they massaged and caressed their reluctant flesh, the Sisyphean display before them added a little spark to their aged blood, but not quite enough yet.
Once Doppy had the thing in place he scampered around its side to plug it in, his bat-wing like ears flapping all the while. He began to mount the thing but the headmaster caught him short.
"Aren't you forgetting something Doppy?" He asked sternly.
Doppy dropped his head abashed and trembling anew, "but sir, the pins sir, they pierce Doppy's skin they do, all over sir, and then what's more sir, in the kitchens the grease gets in the cuts it does, and it burns Doppy something fierce sir..."
"Now Doppy, you know how important aerobic excercise is for proper lung function, and with all that bleach and de-greaser you inhale daily you can't be lazy in that regard."
"But the tacks sir-" Doppy insisted, eyes glued to the floor between his toes.
Dumbledore drew himself up to his full height, "are their for you motivation! Now you will cease this insubordination before my very special guests and scatter the tacks at once!"
Doppy immediately ran to the desk where Albus kept all his pointy tacks and spread them around the treadmill as he had been instructed. Once he was on it he could barely keep up with the swiftly revolving tread and fell onto the spiky tack littered ground again and again. Within minutes Doppy was bruised all over and sodden in his own blood and Dumbledores compatriots were beside themselves with laughter.
Every time Doppy would loose his footing, fall flat on his face and then be hurtled, bleeding and bedraggled on the tacks the onlookers would hoot with glee and encourage the next round, "AGAIN! AGAIN!" they shouted and shouted while Doppy ran and fell.
Doppy was soon wheezing and bent over double, he stepped on a corner of his left ear and went bounding off the motorized rubber walkway. He landed with a limp cracking noise and was still.
"Boo!"
Dumbledore joined in the catcalling loudest of all. With an exasperated sigh he roused himself from his seat and went over to the twitching yet mostly still magical creature. Before Dumbledore could ascertain how best to wring some more fun out of Doppy's battered frame he felt a rough, callused hand slid up his robes and begin to caress his wrinkling pale ass. Martin pushed his weight down on top of Albus even further, sending to headmaster onto his knees.
"I've brought a big red apple for you... teacher," Martin said, leading Dumbledores hand to his bulging erection.
Albus licked his lips, "hope you brought enough to share with the rest of the class," he responded wittily before wrapping his lips around Martins pulsating termination. Martins salty old dong had lived through two world wars and had seen a man sent to the moon, having all that history at just the brush of his tounge was beyond exciting for Dumbledore and he remembered to pace himself. If even one of them came too soon the ritual would all be for naught, so for the time being Albus licked and toyed with Martins cock coquettishly.
On the couch Herman and Eric were going at it like two old dogs in heat. Or at least they were trying to. Joe watched the two of them, waiting his turn at Hermans well used hole. Eric had his ankles up over Hermans shoulders, a position they had always favored in their glory days as it allowed Herman full access to Erics love pit but now that the years had piled up the exertion sent a terrible aching through Herman and his meager and lackluster thrusts belied the pain he felt. Eric was fairing little better, his boy pussy had been pounded away every year for decades now and the loose rubbery hole he had inherited was getting close enough to no stimulation as to make no difference. But still they played their parts and moaned eagerly and with a lusty passion their withered bones could no longer hope to feel.
They were all old.
Too damn old for an all male orgy and they knew it, but the show must go on. The Founder must be brought back from his sleep of the abyss, the world must be made anew before the coming of Nibiru, they must complete the ritual, no matter what pains they face or what obstacles block their path.
Albus had gotten Martin on his back and was doing his best to ride him cowgirl style. The hard floor was making Martins hips and shoulders ache and the two gave it up for a bad job after a few paltry thrusts.
From the corner of the room Fawkes did his best to hide his sharp eyes with his bright red wings, but he could do nothing for the noise, the huffing and moaning of a roomful of old men battering each others holes and crotches together, the raspy sound of dry papery skin chaffing against dry papery skin. The whole room was filled with the rickety clanking and popping of ancient joints put into motion. It was an experience the immortal beast would never forget.
They wiled away the entire afternoon at their festivities. At one point they had made a love sandwich with Joe in the middle, a cock from both Eric and Herman snugly stashed up his shitter while Martin and Albus greedily licked at his taint and the secretions oozing thereon from within.
Albus also made a point to show all his old buddies that they don't call him 'Albus Pipe Cleaner' for nothing and gave them each, one by one, the most vigorous and deep fingering of their long storied lives. His fingers were so long and spindly that it felt like a tiny, stiff, garden snake was trying to find a home up inside them, but he couldn't keep it up for long, his arthritis having advanced mercilessly in the past 12 months...
The ritual continued and liver spotted skin continued to heave and glisten with exhaustion and still they never achieved their aims. Not even when Martin spent himself inside of Albus and then a jizz coated chocolate frog came tumbling out of his well worn hole to finish him off... Not even when they all lay sticky and a hairs breadth away from fatal strokes did they succeed in ressurecting Hitler through their unfettered gaiety.
"Oh well," said Dumbledore after they had all cleaned up and were heading off back into the busy world and their individual lives, "maybe next year..."