The Slytherin girls' dormitory remained quiet in the small hours. The lake's green light barely moved across the stone ceiling. Pansy Parkinson woke with a sharp gasp. Her clit throbbed. Her thighs were already slick and trembling from her dream orgasm.
She stayed motionless for several seconds, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The dream clung to her like damp sheets. In it, she had watched Hermione on her knees in Lily's office, face buried between the professor's thighs, tongue working desperately while Lily gripped that bushy hair and forced her deeper into her cunny.
Hermione had whimpered, cheeks wet, eyes red from shame and need. Lily had bent forward over her desk, skirt shoved up, cunt exposed and dripping, moaning low as the Mudblood licked.
In her mind, Pansy had stepped in and commanded Lily to her knees, making her lick Pansy's pureblood pussy properly, thighs clamping around red hair while elves stretched and filled both Gryffindor arses, creampieing them deep, then covering Hermione in thick seed ropes until she glistened. Lily had obeyed like the Mudblood she was, tongue lapping every drop from Hermione's body and arse, swallowing it all to keep the secret. Pansy had come hard in her sleep from the dream.
Now the reality hit. Her knickers were soaked through. The cold cotton clung against her folds. The mattress beneath her hips held a wide, dark patch, cooling fast. The smell of her own release filled the curtained space, sharp and unmistakable. She shifted and felt fresh wetness slide down her inner thigh.
"Bloody hell," she whispered, voice rough from sleep and whatever sounds she might have made.
No one stirred. Millicent's heavy, rhythmic snoring was the only sound cutting through the green-tinted gloom of the girl's dormitory. Across the room, Tracey lay perfectly still, lost in whatever pedestrian dreams she bothered with. Even the house-elves hadn't begun their pathetic scurrying yet. Good.
Pansy tightened her grip on the silk sheets, her jaw set. No one had witnessed her like this. No one could ever know she was behaving exactly like those pathetic, desperate skanks her mother had always warned her about.
She sat up slowly. Her nightdress stuck to her stomach and breasts where sweat had gathered. She peeled it off, tossed it aside, then cast a quiet Lumos. The light showed the damage clearly: glistening trails on her legs, the soaked patch spreading outward, even dampening the edge of her pillow where she must have pressed her face during the last spasm.
Her cunt throbbed once, remembering the dream's details. The way Hermione's tongue had flicked, hesitant then frantic. The way Lily's body had arched, back bowing as the elves thrust deep. The sounds were wet and obscene. The power of it, having both of them reduced to pleading, leaking messes under her control.
It had not happened. Not in the waking world.
But it could.
Lily Potter carried a very sweet secret. Pansy had been collecting the pieces of it since the very beginning. It had started weeks ago on a morning that Harry clearly thought was private. He had been seen in the Slytherin common room early, looking very troubled.
Tracey had gossiped the details to Pansy later after breakfast for a favour. She described, with cat-like amusement, the way Harry had practically bolted past her and Daphne, his face burning a deep scarlet while a very obvious, very stiff tent strained against the fabric of his school trousers.
Whispers in the corridors had carried fragments of a rumour that the Boy Who Lived was more of a mamma's boy than any of the Weasley children. No one knew where Harry ran off to that morning, but Pansy could guess.
Mothers did not let sons walk out in public looking like that unless Potter didn't understand what being the heir of House Potter entailed. And Lily, with her Gryffindor guilt and her fierce protective streak, would do anything to teach Harry his responsibility herself, as he was the last heir of the house of Potter.
Hermione was easier still. She was a puppy who followed Harry everywhere, even when his sorting into Slytherin should have drawn a line between them. She had the audacity to sit at the Slytherin table during breakfast, her eyes fixed on him with a longing that was transparent to everyone but the boy himself.
Usually, the House of Snakes would have shredded a Gryffindor for such an intrusion. Yet their Head of House had remained strangely silent. Professor Snape had merely looked over with his cauldron-black eyes and told them all to mind their own business.
The Mudblood's loyalty was her greatest weakness. She was loyal to Harry, and loyal to Professor Lily by extension. Pansy had caught her red-handed, her eye pressed to the keyhole of the professor's quarters while the sounds of wet, rhythmic slapping drifted through the wood. Pansy had seen the way Hermione's hands trembled. She had seen the girl realize that the golden image of her hero's mother was a lie.
Threaten the professor's reputation, threaten the boy's image of his mother, and the girl would fold. Either outcome worked for Pansy's purposes. She held the leash now. She was the one who knew every dirty, dripping detail of the scandal of House Potter and, by extension, House Black.
Pansy felt a slow smile pull at her mouth. Blackmail tasted better than any wet dream ever could.
She slipped from the bed, bare feet silent on cold stone. First she Scourgified herself, the spell sweeping away the worst of the stickiness, though the scent lingered on her skin. Then fresh knickers, a clean nightdress. She would handle the bed herself for now.
"Tolly," she hissed.
The elf appeared with a soft pop, ears drooping.
"Change the sheets. Scrub the bed. Banish the mattress entirely, and do not let me see it again. If I hear one word about this in the letter from home… I will make sure your tongue is tied in knots."
Tolly nodded frantically, already waving his hands. The wet patch vanished, the mattress dried, fresh linens snapped into place. Pansy watched until it looked untouched, then dismissed the elf.
Tolly bowed his head. "Mistress is just like her mother. Always wanting everything spotless after Mistress has been… playing with her wand."
Pansy shot him a look. "What was that?"
Tolly's ears flattened. "Nothing, Mistress... Tolly said nothing at all."
Pansy waved her hand. "Just do it."
Dawn was close. Sleep would not come again. Her pulse beat steady and hot under her skin.
She dressed for the day: a crisp white shirt, pleated skirt, and Slytherin tie knotted neatly at her throat, her black robes settling around her shoulders. A quick glamour smoothed the faint shadows beneath her eyes and sharpened the line of her lipstick. She looked composed, polished, and thoroughly unpleasant.
The corridors stayed empty as she climbed toward the upper levels. Her heels clicked with purpose. She rehearsed the opening in her head, keeping it simple.
Professor Potter. I've been meaning to ask… why is it your son spends more time in your office than in the Slytherin common room these days? He looks quite stress-free this year. He looks like a boy who has finally been emptied of a very heavy burden, and I found myself wondering what kind of private lessons you have been giving him recently.
Potter was held back after duelling class by Professor Black and didn't show up for hours. That sort of thing tends to make people curious. I went looking. Found Granger outside your quarters yesterday. What I saw through the keyhole was enlightening. I saw the way you shared your stud son like a piece of common fruit with such ease.
Imagine the scandal and what everyone would think if they learned the perfect, saintly Lily Potter spread her legs for her own boy. Or perhaps I tell Dumbledore first. He would have to act to keep the boy in the light. He would have to act to keep the Boy Who Lived in the light. He would have to remove you from this castle, and then I wonder who would protect Harry from the cravings you have given him.
Without you here to sate him, he might start looking for that same comfort in the Slytherin dormitories. I imagine you would find that thought very distressing.
She would let Lily stammer, let the color drain from that famous face. Then would come her demands. She would make that smug Granger her minion like Crabbe and Goyle.
A part of her wanted Hermione to resist and let her be betrayed by her idol.
She finally reached her destination. In front of Professor L. Potter's door waited the brass nameplate at the end, catching the first weak morning light.
Pansy smoothed her robes one last time. Her smile felt sharp enough to cut.
She raised her hand and knocked.
Pansy stood just inside the doorway, robes still settling around her shoulders, voice low and edged with satisfaction.
"Professor Potter," she began, letting the words drop slowly and deliberately. "I've been meaning to ask… do you always keep your office door unlocked, or was that a special occasion? Like for your son who has just discovered what his cock is for. I know what kind of mother you are. A slut who opened her legs for her own boy's prick because he asked nicely. And how long before you get another Mudblood in on it too?"
Lily remained behind her desk, expression calm, almost expectant of Pansy's visit. She did not flush. She did not pale. She simply watched Pansy with steady green eyes, one hand resting lightly on the wood.
Pansy took another step forward, still confident in herself.
"I could tell anyone. A whisper to a single ghost. An anonymous letter to the Prophet. 'Lily Potter, war heroine, spreads her legs for her son.' Or I keep quiet. For a price. Starting with Granger on her knees tonight. Then you. Bent over this desk again, milk leaking while I—"
The bathroom door opened behind Lily.
Harry stepped out.
Naked.
Water still glistened on his shoulders and chest from the shower. His hair dripped onto the floor in dark drops. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, soft but thick, flushed from warmth, swaying slightly with each step. The faint trail of dark hair leading down from his navel drew the eye straight to it.
Pansy froze.
Her mouth parted. Words died on her tongue. Her gaze locked low, pupils dilating, breath catching in short, shallow pulls. The sight hit like a stunning spell: the casual strength in his thighs, the easy weight of him, the way the head curved just slightly, even soft. She felt heat flood her cheeks, then lower, nipples tightening painfully against her shirt, a fresh pulse of wetness soaking through the clean knickers she had put on less than an hour ago.
She missed the way his eyes narrowed. Missed the flash of anger that darkened his face when he registered her standing there, robes immaculate, mouth open in mid-threat.
Lily moved first.
Her wand flicked up from the desk in a smooth, silent motion. The office door closed with a soft click, lock engaging without sound. She stepped around the desk, closing the distance to Pansy in three unhurried strides.
Pansy blinked, trying to drag her eyes upward, but they snagged again on Harry's cock as he shifted his weight.
Lily's hand settled on Pansy's hip firmly. The other rose to cup Pansy's chin, tilting her face up until their eyes met.
"I was waiting for you to come," Lily said quietly. Her thumb brushed the corner of Pansy's mouth. "Hermione was here last night for some special lessons. She left dripping. Said the name of her accomplice while she came on my fingers. Now the second little peeper shows up. Very Convenient. You are lucky I was going to ask for Bella's help, and who knows who she would take care of your loose mouth…"
Pansy's throat worked. She tried to summon the venom again.
"You're disgusting," she managed, voice thinner than she wanted. "Like hell I would do that like a scarlet wo—"
Lily's hand slid down, palm pressing flat against Pansy's stomach, then lower, cupping her through the skirt. Pansy jolted. The touch was warm and mature. Lily's fingers rubbed slow circles over the damp fabric between her thighs.
"Shh," Lily murmured. "Your legs are shaking, Pansy. Your nipples are hard enough to cut glass. And you're soaking through your knickers already. Don't pretend you're here to threaten. You're here because you want what I and Bella got addicted to."
Pansy tried to step back. Her heel caught on the rug. She wobbled.
Lily followed, keeping the pressure steady, rubbing harder now, the friction making Pansy's breath hitch.
Lily glanced over her shoulder at Harry.
"It's alright, darling," she said, voice soft, almost soothing. "All pureblood witches are like this underneath. Even Molly, after raising seven children, still begs Arthur to play the bad guy. He ties her to the bedposts, calls her filthy names while he fucks her raw. She cums hardest when he makes her admit she's a slut for it. Pansy here is no different. Look at her. Already trembling with anticipation for you."
Harry's jaw tightened. He crossed his arms, water still dripping from his hair onto his collarbone.
"She was threatening you," he said.
Lily smiled faintly.
"She was trying to. But threats don't work when the mouth saying them is watering for cock." Her fingers pressed harder against Pansy's cunt, rubbing in tight circles through the sodden cloth. Pansy whimpered despite herself, hips jerking forward once before she caught the motion.
Lily leaned in, lips brushing Pansy's ear.
"Strip her slowly, Harry," she said. "Start with the robes. Then the shirt. I want to see how wet she really is before we decide what her price is for keeping quiet."
Pansy's eyes flicked to Harry again. His cock had thickened slightly, lifting away from his thigh. Not fully hard yet. But waking up.
She swallowed hard.
Her voice came out small.
"I... I didn't mean—"
Lily's fingers slipped under the hem of her skirt, brushing bare thigh, then higher, tracing the edge of soaked knickers.
"I knew the House of Snakes was in decline, but to think you would dare blackmail a Charms and Potions Mistress," Lily said, her voice cold with disbelief. "Now you are going to learn exactly what that will cost you."
Lily kept her fingers pressed against the damp cotton of Pansy's knickers, rubbing in slow, firm circles that made the girl's hips twitch despite herself. Pansy's breath came in short, uneven pulls. Her thighs trembled, knees threatening to buckle.
Lily glanced at Harry again. His cock had thickened further, lifting away from his thigh, the head darkening as blood rushed in. Eight inches of thick, veined cock now curving up nicely, still swelling harder with every slow throb.
"Come here, darling," Lily said to him, voice low and calm. "Stand in front of her."
Harry stepped forward without hesitation. Water still clung to his skin in faint droplets. He stopped close enough that the heat of him brushed Pansy's face.
Lily released Pansy's chin, slid her hand free from between the girl's legs, and moved behind her. One arm looped around Pansy's waist, steadying her while the other reached forward to wrap around the base of Harry's cock. She lifted it gently, presenting it like an offering.
"Watch closely, Pansy," Lily said. "This is how you give a proper blowjob. Not the clumsy fumbling most girls you might have seen in Bitch Weekly. A pureblood witch should know this before marriage. Your mother will teach you soon about them. But since she didn't, you'll learn now. In advance."
Pansy swallowed. Her eyes stayed locked on Harry's cock, inches from her lips. The scent of clean skin and faint soap mixed with something muskier underneath.
Lily leaned in first. She parted her lips, tongue flicking out to trace the underside of the head in one slow sweep. Harry exhaled through his nose. Lily took the tip into her mouth, cheeks hollowing slightly as she sucked, then slid down halfway, lips stretching around the girth. She bobbed once, twice, tongue pressing flat along the vein, then pulled off with a soft, wet sound.
"See that?" Lily said, voice steady. "No teeth. Relax your throat. Breathe through your nose. Use your tongue to follow the ridge here." She demonstrated again, circling the head slowly. "Keep your hand at the base. Stroke what you can't take yet. Control the pace. Make him feel blissful." Harry's hand settled lightly on Lily's shoulder. His eyes stayed on Pansy, dark and unreadable.
Lily pulled back completely. A thin string of saliva connected her lips to the tip for a moment before it broke.
"Your turn," she said to Pansy. "On your knees."
Pansy's legs folded almost on their own. She sank, skirt riding up her thighs. The stone floor was cold through her stockings. Harry's cock hovered in front of her face, heavy and warm.
Lily knelt beside her, one hand on the back of Pansy's head, guiding without forcing.
"Start with your tongue," Lily instructed. "Lick from base to tip. Taste him first."
Pansy hesitated, then leaned forward. Her trembling tongue darted out, dragging up the underside. Harry's cock twitched as a low sound escaped his throat.
"You might have some talent in this," Lily murmured.
Pansy continued. The shaft felt hot and clean against her tongue, and the taste was faint. She reached the head, circled it once, then took the tip between her lips. Her mouth stretched. She tried to mimic Lily, sucking lightly, tongue pressing underneath.
Lily's hand stayed gentle on her hair.
"Deeper now. Relax your jaw. Breathe through your nose. That's it."
Pansy slid down further. The head bumped the back of her mouth. She gagged once, eyes watering, but Lily held her steady.
"Swallow around it," Lily said. "It helps. Like this."
She demonstrated briefly again, taking Harry's cock deep enough that her nose brushed his pubic hair, throat working visibly. Harry groaned. Lily pulled off slowly.
"Try."
Pansy tried. She managed halfway before her throat closed. Tears pricked her eyes. Lily rubbed small circles at the base of her skull.
"Again. You can take more."
While Pansy worked, Lily's other hand slipped under Pansy's skirt. Fingers pushed the soaked knickers aside, sliding through slick folds. Pansy moaned around Harry's cock. The vibration made him hiss.
"Both holes need to be ready," Lily said matter-of-factly. She pressed two fingers inside Pansy's cunt, curling them slowly. Her thumb found the clit, rubbing in tight circles. "Harry's thick.
You'll need to be wet and loose."
Pansy's hips jerked. She sucked harder without meaning to. Harry groaned again, hips rocking once.
Lily added a third finger, stretching her slowly. Pansy whimpered, the sound muffled.
"You're dripping," Lily said. "Salty little thing. You've been touching yourself before you came here to shame me, haven't you? Or woke up soaked from whatever filthy dream you had. Probably about this exact cock. So similar to Hermione."
Pansy tried to shake her head, but the denial broke apart into a muffled moan.
"I am nothing like Hermione," Pansy forced out.
Lily's fingers thrust deeper, faster. Pansy's thighs shook. Her mouth worked sloppily now, spit slicking Harry's shaft.
"She's close," Lily told Harry. "Keep still. Let her finish first."
Pansy came with a choked cry around his cock. Her walls clenched hard on Lily's fingers. A fresh gush coated Lily's hand. Lily kept rubbing through it, drawing out the spasms until Pansy sagged forward, forehead pressing against Harry's thigh.
Lily withdrew her fingers, brought them to her mouth, and licked them clean.
"So naughty," she said again. "Just like I thought."
Harry's hand tightened in Pansy's hair. He pulled her forward suddenly, pushing past her gag reflex. The head slipped into her throat. Pansy choked, eyes wide, but he held her there. His hips rocked once, twice. Then he groaned low, cock pulsing. Hot spurts hit the back of her throat. She had no choice. She swallowed reflexively, throat working around him, taking every drop until he finished.
He pulled out slowly. A thin, glistening string of cum and spit connected her swollen lips to the tip before it finally broke and settled against her chin. Lily caught Pansy's jaw, tilting her face up with a firm, bruising grip.
"Good girl," she said softly.
Then she leaned in and kissed her. It was slow at first, tasting Harry's seed on her tongue. Pansy made a small, surprised sound, her eyes widening in the dim light. Lily deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding in to claim what was left of his release. Her hands moved to Pansy's shoulders, guiding her backward toward the edge of the bed with a strength that brooked no argument.
"Lie down," Lily murmured against her mouth, her breath hot and smelling of him. "I am not finished positioning you yet."
Pansy's thighs trembled, betraying her despite the cold look she tried to maintain. She swallowed hard, her voice cracking and sounding much smaller than it had in the corridor.
"This is humiliating. He just emptied himself in my throat, and now you want me to..."
"Yes," Lily cut in smoothly, sliding a hand down to cup between Pansy's legs. "That's the only choice of leaving here with your memories intact."
"Fuck. You are evil," she muttered. Her hips lifted anyway, seeking the heavy pressure of Lily's palm even as her voice stayed defiant. "Fine. Do it. But do not think I am going to beg for it."
Lily smiled against her ear, a sharp, knowing expression. "You will."
Pansy let herself be manoeuvred, her legs parting as she sank back onto the mattress. Lily followed, straddling her hips for a moment and kissing her harder while Harry's shadow fell over them both. The boy stood at the edge of the bed, his chest heaving, watching the two of them. "Now," she said, glancing back at Harry. "Let us see how well your training has been going."
Lily broke the kiss slowly. Her lips parted with a soft, wet sound. Pansy's mouth stayed open for a moment, swollen and shiny with saliva and the lingering traces of Harry's cum. Her breathing came ragged. Her chest rose and fell fast under her half-unbuttoned blouse, the silk straining against her boobs.
Lily shifted off her, moved to the bed's center, and lay back on the rumpled sheets. She drew her knees up, then spread her legs wide, skirt bunched around her waist, cunt still flushed and glistening from earlier. A thin trail of her own arousal leaked down toward the cleft of her ass. "Harry," she said, voice low and steady. "Come here. Fuck her till she is no more a problem."
Harry stepped closer. He did not wait for a second invitation. He looked down at Pansy with a dark, intense focus that made her stomach flip. There was no hesitation in his eyes anymore. The boy who had been blushing in the common room weeks ago was gone.
"Move back, Parkinson," Harry commanded. His voice was deeper than usual, rough with a new authority.
Pansy blinked up at him, her pride flickering for a second. "Do not tell me what to do."
Harry did not let her finish the thought. He grabbed her ankles and hauled her toward the center of the mattress in one blunt, powerful motion. Pansy let out a small, surprised yelp as her back hit the sheets. She looked up at him, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Shut up and open for me," Harry muttered.
His cock twitched as it became hard once again; the swollen head was dark and slick with Pansy's spit. He climbed onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress between Pansy's thighs. Pansy lay flat on her back now, skirt rucked up, knickers pushed aside and soaked dark. Her pink folds were swollen and slick with her earlier orgasm.
He braced one hand beside her head, his shadow completely eclipsing her. Harry used his other hand to guide himself. The blunt head pressed against her narrow entrance. Pansy tensed, her hands flying to his forearms.
"Potter, wait!"
"Do as he says, Pansy," Lily murmured from beside them. She reached over, fingers brushing Pansy's clit in slow circles to keep her relaxed. "He is the head of his House whom you came here to blackmail. It is time you learned to follow."
Harry pushed forward with a heavy, deliberate force. The head breached her, stretching the tight ring of muscle. Pansy gasped, a sharp, high sound of shock. Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in. A faint burn spread through her core as he sank deeper, inch by slow inch, until he bottomed out. Her virginity gave with a soft, wet pop of resistance. A thin smear of blood mixed with her slick on his shaft.
Pansy whimpered, eyes wide, tears pricking at the corners.
Lily stroked her hair back from her forehead. "Look at how well he popped your cherry. He is a natural."
Harry stayed still for a long moment, letting her adjust. Then he drew back halfway and thrust forward again. Pansy arched, a choked sound escaping her throat. He built a rhythm, hips rolling steadily, each thrust driving deeper.
Lily guided Pansy's legs up, folding them back toward her chest. "Hold them, Harry. Open her up for yourself."
Harry grabbed the back of Pansy's thighs, pinning her knees near her shoulders. The mating press opened her completely. He leaned in, his full weight pressing her down into the mattress. His cock sank even deeper, hitting her cervix with a dull, heavy thud.
"Please," Pansy gasped, her voice breaking.
"Please what?" Harry asked, his pace increasing. He was breathing hard now, his chest slapping against hers. "Do you want me to stop? Or do you want to pound you harder?"
Pansy could only take it. Her arms wrapped around his neck, helpless, her body jolting with each thrust. The room was filled with the wet, obscene sounds of skin slapping skin, her cunt squelching around him. Her clit rubbed against his crotch every time he bottomed out.
She came suddenly. Her walls clamped down hard, fluttering against his shaft. A sharp cry tore from her throat. Her thighs shook, and her toes curled. Harry groaned at the squeeze, his muscles corded in his neck, but he did not stop. He drove into her three more times, harder and faster, chasing his own release.
When he finally came, he buried himself as deep as possible. Hot spurts flooded her, filling her until it leaked out around his cock with every slow withdrawal. Pansy shuddered, her nerves raw. Small, broken whimpers spilled from her lips as she felt the weight of his release.
Harry stayed draped over her for a long moment, his forehead resting against hers. He pulled out carefully, the sound wet and loud in the quiet room. Cum dripped from her swollen cunt, mixing with a small smear of red on the white sheets.
Lily leaned over at once and kissed Harry's forehead, then looked down at Pansy's dazed, broken expression.
"Well done, Harry," Lily whispered. "I think she understands her place now."
She rolled onto her stomach, then pushed up onto all fours. She presented her ass and arched her back, her spine dipping in a deep, waiting curve. Her cunt glistened, still leaking faintly from his earlier release. Milk beaded at her heavy nipples, dripping onto the mattress.
"Harry," she said, glancing back over her shoulder with dark, heavy eyes. "My womb feels empty without your seed now. Fill me again. I need it."
Harry shifted behind her. He looked at her flushed face and the desperate way she offered herself right after watching him fuck another girl. His hand came down hard against her bare ass. The sharp crack echoed in the quiet room like a gunshot. A bright red handprint bloomed instantly on her pale ass cheek.
Lily gasped at the sting, her hips dropping slightly, a startled whine catching in her throat.
"You are too kinky for your own good, mum," Harry muttered. His voice was thick with a sudden, dark edge of authority.
"Please, Harry," Lily whimpered, her body trembling under his heavy gaze.
He gripped her hips, lined himself up, and thrust forward in one smooth, brutal motion. Lily cried out loudly. Her head dropped forward as he bottomed out against her cervix. She was already far too sensitive from the morning's activities and the psychological thrill of corrupting Pansy.
Lily's fingers curled into the sheets. "Gods... yes. Deeper."
The sudden, overwhelming fullness of his thick shaft stretching her wide was simply too much. Her walls clamped down on him instantly. She was thrown into a violent, total orgasm on the very first thrust. Her thighs shook uncontrollably, and a high, keening moan tore from her throat as she milked him before he had even started a rhythm.
Harry growled, his grip tightening on her hips until his fingers bruised her skin.
"I barely buggered youy, ou and you are already cumming," he spat. His tone was laced with genuine frustration.
He pulled back and slammed into her again, hard and fast. There was no slow build this time, no gentle stretching. He punished her for her weakness. His hips snapped against her ass with a wet, heavy violence. Each thrust was designed to stretch her completely, driving the blunt head of his cock deep into her aching core.
Lily could not breathe. The pleasure was too sharp, bordering on absolute euphoria. Her fingers curled into the sheets, tearing at the fabric as he battered her cervix without mercy. She sobbed, her mind fracturing under the relentless pounding.
She felt the exact moment his control finally snapped. Harry drove himself as deep as physically possible, pinning her flat against the mattress with his body weight, and roared.
The first spurt of his hot cum hit her greedy womb. Then came another spurt, and then another. The sheer volume of his seed was terrifying. It flooded her, rubbing against her pussy walls and filling her womb with a thick, scalding heat. He emptied himself into her with a savage desperation, his cock pulsing violently against her walls.
In that chaotic, brilliant moment of sensory overload, a primal certainty washed over Lily. She could feel the heavy, stretching pool of his cum settling deep in her belly. There was so much of it. She was sure she was going to carry his child. If not already pregnant with it.
The thought was a pure, unfiltered orgasmic drug. It sent a final, catastrophic wave of pleasure crashing through her nervous system, far stronger than the first orgasm.
Her eyes rolled back in her head. The world dissolved into a blinding white heat. The heavy, rhythmic pulsing of his cock unloading the very last of his seed was the only thing she could feel.
Her arms gave out entirely. Lily collapsed onto the soaked sheets, her mind shutting down completely from the sheer magnitude of the bliss. She was unconscious before Harry even pulled out.
Harry pulled back from his mother's limp form. Lily lay completely motionless on the ruined sheets, her chest rising and falling in deep, exhausted breaths. Her inner thighs were painted thick with ropes of his cum leaking steadily from her swollen, freshly-bred cunt. She was dead to the world, knocked out cold by the overwhelming peak of her own pleasure and the heavy, silent realization of what he had just planted deep within her womb.
Beside them, Pansy had calmed her ragged breathing somewhat. She was lying on her side, her legs still parted. Her cunt was puffy, red, and leaking his earlier release onto the mattress. Her glassy eyes tracked him as he shifted. That old venomous spark flared back in her gaze.
She looked at his cock. It was already thickening again, flushed and twitching with leftover adrenaline and anger.
"Look at you," Pansy rasped, her voice trembling but dripping with venom. "Fucking everything in front of you like a stray dog. You are entirely out of control, Potter."
Harry slowly turned his head to look at her. His cock swayed at her words like a wand.
Pansy swallowed hard, but she pushed further, trying weakly to manipulate the power dynamic back in her favor. "What would your precious Granger think? If she saw the golden boy acting like such a randy beast. Pounding his mother and his enemy like a common—"
She did not get to finish the insult.
Harry moved with a sudden, terrifying speed. His hand shot out and twisted into the dark, sweat-dampened hair at the back of her head. Pansy shrieked as he yanked her upward, the sharp pain in her scalp forcing her to arch her neck.
"You really have not learned your situation at all, Parkinson," Harry growled.
He hauled her across the mattress by her hair and flipped her violently onto her stomach. Pansy scrambled, trying to find purchase on the sheets, but Harry was too strong. He grabbed her hips and pulled them high into the air, forcing her onto her knees while her face remained pressed hard against the mattress.
"Potter… wait. Stop this." Pansy panicked, her bravado shattering instantly as she realized how exposed she was.
Harry ignored her. He reached down between her thighs. He scooped up a generous handful of the slick, ruined mess from her swollen cunt, a mix of her natural arousal, her torn maidenhead, and his own cooling seed. He dragged his coated fingers up and slathered the thick wetness over her tight, untouched back ring. He added a heavy mouthful of his own spit, rubbing it in without any gentle prelude.
"You want to talk about being a beast," Harry said coldly. "Let us see how much of this beast you can handle."
He aligned the blunt, thick head of his cock against her tightest entrance. Pansy tensed her entire body, her fingers clawing frantically at the bedsheets.
Harry pushed forward with his hips, using his heavy body weight to force the issue. The thick head breached her tight ring. The stretch was immediate and agonizing. Pansy screamed into the pillows. The delicate muscle tore slightly under the brutal intrusion.
Harry paused only for a second, his hand tightening in her hair to keep her from crawling away. Then he thrust forward again, sinking deeper, inch by careful, burning inch, until he was fully seated inside her ass.
Pansy sobbed openly. The stretch was full and entirely overwhelming. It felt as though she was being split in half. But beneath the sharp, blinding pain came something else. A shameful, heavy heat began to curl low in her belly. The intense pressure against her internal walls rubbed directly against her deepest nerves. She hated it. She hated how her treacherous body responded to his cruelty.
Harry started ploughing her. He was slow at first, dragging his thick girth in and out to stretch her properly. Then he began to thrust harder, snapping his hips forward. Each deep impact made her cry out. He took out every ounce of his anger and frustration on her body. His free hand came down heavily on her bare ass cheek. The sharp, stinging slap echoed in the room. Bright red handprints bloomed across her pale skin, layering over each other with every brutal strike.
"Say it," he demanded, his grip pulling her head back by the roots of her hair. "Admit you like it rough."
Pansy choked on a broken sob. Another heavy slap struck her flesh. Her tight ass clenched convulsively around his cock, milking him perfectly.
"I like it," she gasped out, tears streaming down her face. "I like it rough. Please, Harry."
"Say you are my maid," he pounded into her deeper, abandoning all restraint and doing his absolute worst. "Say you are my cum slut. Tell me I can come to the Slytherin dorms and take you in your own bed whenever I want."
"I will be your maid," Pansy wailed, her resistance entirely broken by the pain and the dark, overwhelming pleasure. "I am your cum slut. Come anytime you want. Fuck me whenever you want. Just please pound my ass harder, Harry!"
Harry thrust harder, punishing her arrogance with absolute, dominant force. The heavy friction and her tight, desperate words pushed him over the edge. He came with a loud, guttural groan. He drove himself to the hilt and spilled his hot, thick seed deep inside her ass.
Pansy shuddered violently. Fresh tears fell as her body shook with the overwhelming mix of pain, humiliation, and ruinous pleasure. She whimpered softly into the sheets, her mind completely shattered by the ordeal.
Harry stayed buried inside her for a long moment, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He finally released her hair and pulled out slowly. The wet plop sound made Pansy flinch. His fresh cum leaked slowly from both of her used holes.
Harry moved away from her trembling form. He lay down on his back next to his unconscious mother. He stared up at the stone ceiling in the quiet room, his body exhausted but his mind entirely clear.
Pansy remained on her knees, her face buried in the mattress, weeping quietly as the morning light finally broke through the windows.
They lay in silence for a long while, breathing slowing, bodies warm and tangled.
Then Harry stiffened. His eyes went distant.
A cold, hissing voice slithered through his mind.
Kill...
He sat up abruptly, heart pounding.
He stared at the wall, listening.
The voice hissed again, a bit distant now.
Kill...
༺✿༻❀༺✿༺❀༻✿༻❀༺✿༺❀༻✿༻❀༺✿༺❀༻✿༻❀༺✿༺❀༻✿༻❀༺✿༺❀༻✿༺❀༻
Thanks for sticking with the ride so far!
The story is building toward a true harem path. Daphne, Tracey, Hermione, and even Katie Bell (Maybe the other two Quidditch girls) are planned additions. But first, some more Pansy and Daphne fun, plus the surprise entry of Collen in the fold in the next Interlude.... It will get interesting. Too interesting...
You can share your suggestions for any kinks (For Hermione) in the comments.
Read Chapter 7 Maid and Mistress, and the Interlude ahead now on P*treon.c*m/OmniNymph or buy it from my K*-fi shop at k*-fi.c*m/omninymph.