"I will kill you if we get caught!" Daphne Greengrass glared at the impishly smiling Tracey, tiptoeing to her parent's bedroom like a thief.
"Chill Daph. No one is to know about this visit of ours." Tracy said, with such confidence that Daphne thought to remind her of her rubbish grades in divination. "Your mother isn't here, is she?"
"No." she groused, hoping there wasn't any ward above her capabilities to encounter. Tracey was shit at wardbraking, so the responsibility of cracking them would be on her shoulders.
Why did she tell Tracey about that embarrassing incident?
Her best friend had been adamant about checking out the dildo that her mother had mentioned, whining throughout the week she had been staying with them. She had become fed up and agreed to raid her parent's bedroom that night, hoping to shut her best friend for good. Her mom could be back any day from her business trip and she couldn't wait anymore on that front.
It was just Tracey's curiosity that had forced her into the situation, as she had no interest in checking what her mom got up to in her leisure. No interest. Absolutely not. She had no interest in checking out the enormous dildo that could supposedly make hers look small, especially as the sneaky gift from her aunt was already way bigger than what she had come across in real life.
As the door opened with just a push, admitting the two of them, Daphne barely hesitated in crossing the room and marching straight toward the small drawer beside the bed, feeling the excitement oozing out of her best friend.
Now, the most crucial part.
The handle of the mahogany furniture gripping in her palm, she tugged it with force, pleading for the absence of any wards. The slick sound of wood dragging across hardly ever sounded so sweet, and the "Yeah!" from behind her just solidified that her perverted friend would have not given up on her nagging if she hadn't acceded to her demand.
She almost flinched as a warm breath ghosted along her neck, turning and glaring at the smiling Tracey.
"C'mon! Hurry! Let's get it and go back."
"What?" Daphne stood her ground and stopped Tracey from peeking inside the drawer. "You wanted to see it once. That's it. I ain't going to let you take it outside!"
Tracey tugged her pink shirt, trying to displace her. It would have probably been successful if Tracey wasn't half a foot shorter and thin as a rail.
"For fuck's sake, Daph! Just bring it out already!" Tracey grunted, almost vibrating in anticipation.
Daphne cursed herself, now regretting her decision. Knowing her best friend's tendencies, Daphne was sure that the brunette would use every ounce of cunning in her tiny frame to achieve her goal. If she tried anything after the return of her mom… She could almost envision her mom's stupid smirk if she was caught trying to steal a dildo of all things.
With a tiny sigh of defeat escaping her lips, the heiress of the Greengrass fortunes gave into her friend's whining, like always. She stepped aside, standing shoulder to shoulder with her friend, and fished out the pink cylindrical-looking object.
"Morgana's puffy nipples!" Tracy's exclamation crashed against her eardrums, thankfully hiding her small breath of wonderment.
Her fingers curled around the lifelike phallus, the thickness registering in her eyes but eluding her mind. Her own was at least a couple of inches smaller, but the biggest difference was the girth. Can a pussy even take a cock this fat? Another difference was the lifelike veins crisscrossing the length. The one she was familiar with was pretty smooth, and as Draco himself was similar, Daphne always thought that was the norm. Did the sensations of the ridges and veins scraping against the sensitive vaginal walls enhance the experience?
Her grip slackened, and Tracey, being the opportunist that she was, snatched the dildo from her hand. Tracey caressed the odd phallus lovingly, holding it with both hands.
"Daph, look at that. My fingers are barely touching." Tracey said, as if she couldn't see that with her own fucking eyes. "Does Aunt Ana really fuck herself with this?"
Daphne's cheeks burned at the stupid question. She couldn't even deny it. Oh… Why did she have to vomit every single thing to her friend?
"Shut up…" Daphne murmured, averting her eyes as Tracey continued her fascination with the dildo.
Her eyes fell to a haphazardly trussed-up package in the drawer, curiosity getting the better of her. Her fingers shook as she pulled out the thing, the long cylindrical shape that could be felt, increased her heartbeat. The brown envelope fell away at a slight tug, falling and revealing something even scandalous.
Daphne gaped. The long black object, with very pronounced grooves, was even longer than the previous sample. But what truly astounded her was that rather than the shape of a phallus, the thing in her hand had pointed helmets on both of the ends, as if it was made to be used for two holes at once. The redness crept into her cheeks, rapidly spreading to her chest as Daphne conjured up images inside her mind; them getting dirtier as her imagination took a wild turn.
"Hnngg…" The muffled moan from her vicinity broke the trance, and she almost dropped the dildo. Her previous embarrassment evaporated as her eyes took on Tracey, who had shuffled to the corner of the bedroom, her back to the large window.
"The fuck, Tracey!" Daphne's scream had no effect, as her best friend had tugged her shirt up and panties down, too busy shoving her mom's dildo into her tiny little pussy. "Put that out!"
"Ummhh… yeah! Hnngg…" A vein throbbed in her temple as Tracey ignored her, "So good, Daph! So good! Do you think…think… Samantha could smuggle something like this to us?"
Daphne shook her head furiously. The thought of asking the seventh-year girl for something like this brought her receding flush to a new height. Especially the potential for future blackmail material that the clever witch could dangle over them.
"We won't be requesting anything like that from her." Daphne said, striding toward her diddling best friend. "And you are going to stop doing that! My mother uses that Trace…Have you got no shame?"
"As if the thought of this thing inside Aunt Ana repulses me." Tracey squinted, hands still in motion. "I would have cleaned up her juices from this joystick, if there were any."
Enough is enough!
Daphne took hold of her friend's hands, glaring down at her.
"Don't be a fucking killjoy! It's not like she would know." Tracey tugged her one hand free, baring her teeth. She opened her mouth before glancing at the object in Daphne's other hand. Her struggle seized in the instant and Daphne almost recoiled as metaphorical hearts bloomed in the shorter witch's eyes.
"Oh…Oh… fucking fuck!" Tracey gasped out, lunging for the black dildo. "There's an even bigger one?"
"Stop being a slut, Trace!" Daphne swerved out of the way, gripping the dildo tightly. She had no intention of surrendering the brand-new-looking object to her best friend. She held the thing high, well out of her small friend's reach.
A few minutes of furious struggling from her friend turned futile, as Daphne didn't budge an inch. With her back pressed to the window, she felt her friend's body wiggling against hers, Tracey's small breasts pressing against her tummy, and her hands clawing at her wrist.
"Just give it already, Daph!" Tracey's struggle increased, determination pouring out of her in rivulets. "Take your mother's one and give me that!"
"Whose do you think this is, if not my mom's?" Daphne asked, huffing, as her friend's effort seemed to slacken at her words. "It was inside the drawer as well."
Her words finally penetrated Tracey's thick skull. Honestly, whose did she think it was? Daphne's? As if she would ever put something this monstrous and grotesque inside her womanly parts.
"But I thought she had just one…" Tracey took a step back, her hands falling by her side. "I thought you have been keeping that hidden or something…"
Daphne rolled her eyes at her harebrained friend. She hoped Tracey wouldn't do something regrettable just to get the high that she seemed to crave. Her presence till now had shielded her friend from any lecherous boy's gaze, but if it ever became known what kind of deviant the little brunette aspired to be…
"Hey, what's that?" Tracey's loud exclamation jolted her back to the present. She frowned as her friend pointed at something behind her. Blond hair whipped as Daphne turned around, eyes widening in alarm.
One of their well-protected greenhouses had little lights floating inside, and her worry only rose as she realized it was the one harboring the most precious of plants.
"Intruders!" Daphne breathed in, eyes dilating as she kept looking at the unbelievable scene.
But how did they break through their wards? That was something that she couldn't wrap her mind around. Another realization froze her veins—She was the only family member present, so she had to take action herself.
"Hah sucker!" The shout, along with the force of something getting tugged out of her hand, reminded her of the presence of another witch beside her. "As if this monster belonging to your mother would change anything."
Daphne could only look helplessly as Tracey waved both phallic-shaped objects around like trophies, a Cheshire grin spreading from her ear to ear.
The intruder on the property or her obnoxious friend—Daphne pondered who she should kick out first.
'What the hell?'
Harry blinked his eyes, hardly believing the vision in front. The previously made sound was certainly coming from Lady Greengrass, but he had never thought he would get to see something like this.
His eyes spanned from the bottom to the top, brain denying what his eyes were taking in. He shook his head and stared again, mouth agape as the curvaceous woman dangled a foot above the soil, held aloft by The Devil's snare of all things. The thick branches from the otherwise docile plant crisscrossed her entire body, with the brown stems tying her legs, thighs, and hands apart in a mockery of the famous painting that his mother had taken him to watch — the naked man by some renown artist. Little stems wiggled like serpent bodies, covering her mouth, with its different branches hiding her neck and torso, trussing her up like a coveted Christmas present.
He averted his eyes as a branch had lodged itself between her cleavage, not only enhancing their already busty shape but also imitating a truly lewd work of art.
The perplexed Potter heir shook his head, chasing away the dirty thoughts that had invaded his mind at the blond's vulnerable state.
But from when exactly did Devil's Snares start assaulting witches?
Maybe that was the reason they were called such a name. After all, they were quite harmless, for anyone, even with scant knowledge of plants.
Or maybe not. Harry changed his mind after watching a knowledgeable herbologist getting ensnared in them.
He flashed his wand forward, a fire spell on the tip of his tongue.
"Ungg….Hmmm….."
The furious shaking of Mrs. Greengrass's head stopped his effort. Harry stood there flummoxed as the blond tried her best to wriggle free from the snare's grip, shaking her head desperately at his raised wand.
What the fuck! What should I do now?
Her effort was rewarded when she somehow freed her mouth from the grasp of the plant, her swollen lips wide open as she breathed in. Harry dared to hope that she could somehow escape entirely, but the Plant only tightened its grip on her other limbs.
"Thank Morgana, you didn't use fire." She said haltingly, gulping large bursts of air. "It would have only made the Snare tighten and then…"
Harry backpedaled subconsciously, gulping at the ominous tone. Her panic suggested that the situation would have escalated out of his control if he hadn't stalled his effort at the last second.
"Please, stay still, Lady Greengrass.' Harry pleaded, hoping the other way to escape the Devil's Snare would be helpful. "You are moving too much."
She shook her head, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. "That isn't going to work either." She said, "this isn't your normal Devil's snare."
Harry backpedaled some more after hearing that. In Harry's experience, experimental plants had been always as temperamental as Hagrid's harmless pets. Even staying near one of them could be detrimental to your health.
"Then… Then, how are you going to get out of this?"
"This breed only releases its prey from its grasp at the break of dawn. No fire, no playing dead, no spells or magic, nothing would suffice except that."
Harry stared upward through the glass roof, to the crescent moon still quite high in the sky. The sunrise was probably hours away.
"Unfortunately… the plant will suck the magic out of me before I could wait for that long."
Harry jerked back at her words, eyes wide.
"What!"
The mussed-up blond bit her lips, staring at him through teary eyes before she nodded as if reiterating the graveness of the situation.
"What the hell is such a dangerous plant doing here?" Harry felt his fury rise, hands balling into fists, but with that came panic at his own helplessness.
"Nobody comes to this place at night, due to the dangers… but today…" she tapered off, her struggles coming to a slow end. "I couldn't see you behind me and in a panic I stumbled, falling between them…"
Now Harry felt wretched. The knowledge of his involvement, however insignificant, invoked a sense of guilt that was hard to shrug off.
"Surely there is something that could help you?" Harry asked, desperation entering his voice as the thought of saving the blond consumed his very being. 'Please, there must be something."
His pathetic voice bounced around the pocket of the Greenhouse with no witness except a fatal herbology experiment and the matriarch of the House.
"Well… there might be…"
Harry lurched ahead in hope, taking care to not get too close and getting tied up as well.
"What is it?"
She hesitated, biting her lips and averting his gaze.
"Damn it, Lady Greengrass, what is it? If it is in my capacity…"
"No… I couldn't ask you that. It wouldn't be proper." She whispered, and Harry was on the verge of tearing his hair out. "It will be too big of a favor."
"I will do it!"
Now it was her turn to jerk back. His voice had a tone of authority that he himself wasn't familiar with. "Just tell me already!"
A tiny patch of red formed on her cheeks, which Harry thought was because of her state. His impatience was already at the limits when she finally opened her mouth.
"This breed of Devil's snare was bred by a witch in Mahoutokoro, for curing the ED that is prevalent among wizards all over the world."
"Pardon?"
She hesitated, before whispering, "Erectile Dysfunction" causing him to sputter in shock. Harry shook his head, motioning for her to continue with her explanation.
"The plant feeds on magic that it leeches from anyone in its grasp and she hoped it could transfer that excess of magic into a wizard's bloodstream, curing the disease."
Harry's brows furrowed as he tried to understand how the history of the plant was going to help her escape, though the news of wizards having trouble pitching up their tent was certainly worrisome. "And this is going to help you how?"
"Well, not only magic, the plant could sustain itself on the s…sexual discharge of any witch, with their inherently magical nature; the only caveat is that the discharge should be big enough that it could splatter into the roots and sate their need for sustenance."
Harry looked down at the soil under the branches and saw roots wiggling along the surface like little thumbs fighting for dominance.
"I couldn't ask you to do this, Harry. Not only I am old and ugly, but I couldn't request you to stimulate me sexually." She shook her head, vehemently denying her only option of escape. "I couldn't do this to my dear friend's son. It will be immoral of me."
Harry Potter sighed, not correcting her assumptions about her age and appeal. And the question of his mother getting offended… Well, that ship had sailed a long ago.
"What do I have to do?" Harry firmed his mind. Not that it was any kind of chore. Not when the woman was of Mrs. Greengrass's beauty. Pleasuring a witch and making her ejaculate had become almost a daily habit of his. The only question was which method she would prefer.
In the meantime, He would stay clear of Greenhouses. The herbologists and their hobby of breeding ever-dangerous plants were surely going to bite someone in the arse.
The Snares acted almost like they understood the situation, forcing her thighs wide apart and wiggling away from the vicinity of her groin, situating themselves at the calves. Harry looked at up her to see her blushing before she mumbled. "They are sentient."
He had half a mind to lose his trousers before discarding the thought. No need to take undue advantage of the situation. His fingers would have to suffice before she thought of him taking liberty with her.
He kneeled over the moist soil, watching the roots and branches parting before him. They seemed too clever to be just plants.
One of the conjured fireflies flew above them, brightening the otherwise dour space, and Harry, for the final confirmation, looked up at the hanging witch's face and did a double take.
He was sure there was a smirk on her lips, but only a nervous-looking face stared back at him the second time.
Must be the dancing shadows.
His undivided focus rested upon the blond's womanly part and Harry saw her night-suit was pretty damaged by the rough vines. The lower part of the suit was messed up and without the presence of the snares, his eyes fell on the shredded fabric, beneath of which a pink-laced underwear peeked at him. Some dirt and friction burn marks were littered along her thick thighs, muddling the otherwise pale skin. With barely any hesitation, he put his hands around her thighs, wiping away the dirt and soothing the prickled skin with gentle touches from his calloused fingers.
Mrs. Greengrass's breath hitched as he continued caressing her thighs, keeping himself away from any erogenous place. His fingers encountered goose pimples that broke all over her skin, along with the slight smell that Harry could identify from a mile away nowadays. The firefly swirling above came down at his beckoning, its soundless fluttering and luminescence gave a sharp contrast to the tense ambiance.
Knowing that the position couldn't be that easy for the joints, Harry stopped his aimless ministration, both hands going to the panties, which he tried to pull down, but as she was spread-eagled, his intention was stonewalled pretty early.
"Tear it," Harry nodded at her breathless exclamation.
Taking hold of it from the middle, he pulled it with a negligible force and the lace parted easily before his strength, unveiling a gorgeously built pussy. The hairless, pristine skin didn't shock him as he almost expected it, with hair removal just a wave of the wand away. Musky scent wafting was also familiar — the scent of an aroused pussy had become a delicacy for his taste buds. The only surprising thing was the blond's meaty folds' resemblance to Ron's mother, but the petals were a lot smaller and more compact than the redhead's wrinkly, messy ones.
Maybe the amount of children one gave birth to had some effect on the witches?
Then why did Appoline's pussy look almost untouched? Harry groaned at his stupidity. Of course, she is a fucking veela! Nobody could compare. Well, maybe his mother's…
He aborted the thought and focused on the one currently occupying his vision, a bit surprised to see the wetness that had gathered so quickly. To check whether his eyes were deceiving him, he put his right index just beneath her folds while his other hand kept stroking the juncture of her thighs and groin. His tentative fingers climbed, dragging their way through and lo-and-behold, a sticky, honey-like liquid sipped into his fingers—first index, then middle, and finally the other three. He stroked the folds gently, not going to the top of the vagina where the tiny clitoris was prominent.
The wetness in his fingers increased at alarming speed and Harry once again stared upward to a now mortified-looking blond woman.
"S…sorry… Harry… ah! I have been deprived of physical touch for very longggg…." Her excuse turned into a long groan when he took hold of her protruding clit with his index and middle finger, then slowly started dragging it down. "Ohhh…. Morgana…."
Her thighs started shaking, forcing Harry to release the clit with a "plop". His hand got really messed up, with her juices flowing down his palm. Harry was sure no woman he had been with had released so much pussy juices and with so little work.
"It's alright, ma'am." Harry said. His voice was measured but internally he was wondering if he could get away with a lot more than just finger her to an explosive orgasm. After all, she seemed pretty randy. "It will only help you get released quicker."
"Hmm… Oh.. Yeah… That."
The snares coiled and pulled her thighs upward, forcing her pussy directly to his face. The angle had the bonus of raising her pink and innocent-looking starfish that winked at him, begging for his attention. An abundant smell of pussy juice wafted to his nose, mixing with the lavender smell that was probably coming from her body itself. The flowery scent intermingled with the musky discharge, forcing Harry to swallow.
A single finger of his entered the dark cavity, parting the pussy folds with nary an effort. Inch after inch, his thick finger went inside, only stopping because of his knuckles that stopped its forward journey. He wiggled his fingers, listening to her "ahns!" and "ohns!" and changed the penetration angle, wincing as extra hot walls gripped his digit. Seeing no objection from her, his middle finger joined inside. The tightness of the canal excited him as he imagined the silky folds gripping his cock with the same enthusiasm.
Shut it, Harry! He had to stop that line of thinking, already feeling the movements inside his trousers. He was helping a woman in need here, not fulfilling his sick wish.
If only his dick listened to his words.
The blond squirmed and twitched in her restraints, seemingly enjoying the girth of his two fingers. He sawed them in and out, still gently, emboldened by her ecstasy. His hard-earned knowledge regarding the female anatomy came in handy; curling the fingers inside, Harry wiggled them, stimulating the upper walls of her vagina — exactly the rough places that marked a witch's G-spot. And her response was telling.
She jerked and twerked, pushing her hips as much as she could, and Harry put the ring finger inside in the meantime, widening her opening to epic proportions.
"OhhhH! HANNNN! Keep going! Pleaseeee!"
The closed eyed and humping witch kept splashing her juices to his palms, which dripped along his wrist. The speed of his penetration increased, with Harry now putting his shoulder to the use.
Her clitoris that seemed inflamed after his ministration escaped from its sheath and Harry, being the immoral bastard that he was, lost the internal battle to not take advantage of the woman and took the pink flesh directly between his teeth.
"HHHHNNNNGGG!"
The fleshy nub inside his mouth pushed against his tongue, and he made out with the tiny muscle, wrestling with it and treating it just like a witch's tongue. His hand's punishing pace joined his double effort, with his mouth now engaged to her clitoris; Harry was sure she would be free from the snares in no time.
But better safe than sorry.
His slowly caressing left hand dropped and in a fit of inspiration, he caressed the rough outer layer of her sphincter before shoving one digit, barely being able to put more than a few inches.
"HHHHHAAAAARRRRRRRYYYY!"
His eardrums vibrated from the scream above. Still, he continued the triple assault, feeling she was on the verge of losing her mind. His tongue kept diddling the clit, lips latched onto the surrounding flesh and his fingers pistoning inside her wet canal. But was Harry satisfied? Absolutely not! And that showed when Harry gave her the final push. His little finger, which was feeling left out, was crammed inside the ridged muscles of her cunt, joining its brothers and strumming inside her folds like the most seasoned of piano players.
A sudden pressure almost forced his digits out, and Harry was experienced enough to know its significance. Cursing up a storm inside at the missed opportunity to taste the sweet nectar that he had churned for the last few moments, Harry gave the hardest of sucks to her sensitive clit till then.
"CUUUMMMMIIINNGGGG!"
The scream this time rattled his bones and, knowing the explosion was inevitable, Harry regretfully had to release the clit.
His shoulders stiff and fingers busy with their respective holes, Harry stared at Daphne's mom's face and saw the beauty that only a woman on the verge of an orgasm can convey.
Her pussy and arsehole protested vehemently as he withdrew his fingers, though that was nothing compared to what the woman shouted.
"NO! NO! KEEP YOUR FINGERS FUCKING INSIDE, PLEASE….I AM CUMMM...…"
Harry stumbled back, marveling as spurt after spurt splattered against the ground, with her entire body shaking as she emptied what might have somebody mistaken for her whole bladder. The blond kept juddering. In the throes of her orgasm, messy drops continued raining for almost thirty seconds after he had withdrawn his fingers.
Bloody hell! When she kept squirming for almost a minute, Harry almost lost his shit, comparing the noble matriarch with this squirting whore.
She was really backed up…
When the explosion passed and Mrs. Greengrass stopped imitating a cruciatus victim, Harry stealthily shuffled back, adjusting his trousers and pushing the bulge along his thighs to hide it from plain view.
It took another couple of minutes before the blond woman opened her eyes, her chest rising and falling with exhaustion. Harry waited for the snares to drop their prey, but the passing moments made one thing distressingly clear. Her conjecture was wrong.
She seemed to come to the same conclusion; her glowing face twisting in a mortified expression.
"Mrs. Greengrass…" Harry nodded at her still hanging form, the earlier panic coming to the forefront. "You are still…" His voice closed off, eyebrows raised as a serene expression enveloped her shame.
"Hmm… it seems, Harry, that I will need you to do me another huge favor."
She tried to dislodge the hand pressed against her mouth, but her friend clung to her body like a leech, stopping her from storming there and doing…doing…something regrettable.
Why did she allow Tracey to convince her again?
The knowledge of an intruder was alarming, so she wanted to inform the Aurors at once, but did she do that? NO!
"C'mon Daph! If we go there under your demiguise cloak, we could ambush them. It will be our own little adventure."
She would have still refused if Tracy hadn't put her mother's dildoes on the line, promising to return them if she followed her suggestion.
She would be lying if she wasn't confident in her abilities. After all, she was competing for the first position with Granger in all their classes. Some petty thief wouldn't be a challenge for her, especially if she was under the cloak that one of her unspeakable relatives had gifted her with its in-built stealth charms.
Now she wished she had refused her best friend's offer. At least she wouldn't have to see her mother like this if Aurors had been summoned.
"What Favor?" As the male voice asked her mom, there was a scandalized gasp beside her.
"Is that Harry?" Tracy whispered, even though they couldn't be heard outside of the cloak's covering. "Wasn't he smitten with you? You rejected him for Malfoy, so he went straight for your mom? Damn! That's Hardcore."
Daphne twisted her head and glared at her friend. But she was doubtful about the effect. The semi-darkness of the corner, along with her friend's focused stare, made Daphne fearful of what her friend would sprout next.
"When did Harry become so hunky, anyway? Wasn't he…like a…shrimp?" Tracey glanced at her once before turning ahead immediately. "Bet you regret not choosing him, huh?"
Daphne gritted her teeth. The truth in her friend's words only exacerbated her anger.
"I don't know what are you talking about." Daphne's eyes twitched as Tracey snorted. "We were just childhood friends."
"Yeah, I'm sure." Daphne was about to take her anger out on Tracey when the voice of her mother stopped her in her tracks.
"It seems the Snares didn't get their fill of magic. So we have to just keep feeding them."
"All right." Daphne could hear the eagerness in Harry's voice as he prepared to kneel on the ground again.
"Wait, Harry… I'm not sure how long it will take if you just stick to your fingers and mouth." Daphne could see her mother trying to portray nervousness, but living with her for the entire life, she could guess when there was genuine fear in her voice or when she was faking. "Why don't you lose that trouser and help me with your penis?"
"Really!"
That bastard! Sounding so eager!
"Yeah. It will be the quickest way to free me. I can already feel my magic getting weaker." Daphne's blood boiled as her mother averted her eyes, acting like the most innocent maiden ravaged by horrific circumstances. "I know you would rather not touch an old witch like me in that manner. I will completely understand if you don't want to do…"
"Thank Merlin, he was with Aunt Ana, isn't it?" Daphne was astounded to see Tracey sniffing, buying into her mother's act and forcing her to slap on the back of her head.
"You dolt!" She wished she could have smacked her harder. Ignoring her friend's wincing and glare, Daphne had to take a breath to calm herself down. "Did you seriously believe that lie? This is just a different breed of Devil's snare which can only be controlled by the person who had planted it. And considering my mother was the one who did it…"
"You mean…"
The loud intake of breath from her mom dragged their attention back and the only reason both of them hadn't dropped bonelessly on the ground was because they were leaning into each other.
"What in the name of the Devil is that?"
Daphne herself was blinking, trying to see if she was dreaming or something.
Harry, it seemed, had believed her mother's lie and had divested himself of his trousers and boxers. Now standing there with a muscle shirt clinging to his body and only the muscle shirt, Daphne realized why her heart fluttered so fast. She felt Tracey trying to wiggle out of their cloak and held her back, reversing their earlier state.
Tracey tried to dislodge her hands around her midsection for a few seconds before glaring at her.
"Now tell me you don't regret dating him!"
Daphne shied away from meeting her eyes, flushing as Tracey pointed at Harry's groin.
She could lie to Tracey easily. But how was she going to lie to herself?
Anastasia was thankful for the sparse illumination of the greenhouse because in no way she could have hidden her elation after Harry dropped his pants. She somehow rearranged her face to the previous contrite expression, drinking in the monstrous length and girth that had forced her to plan so elaborately for the night. The numbness of her limbs was bothersome, sure, but she was also certain it would be nothing compared to the numbness that her cunny was going to endure by the end of the night.
A mental command from her made the Devil's snare loosen its hold in some places and tighten in others, placing her at the perfect height and angle for penetration. A chance to tug and paw her sensitive breasts would have been nice, but she was already taking a lot of risks in orchestrating this tomfoolery; no need to get too greedy too soon. In the end, she was confident in her ability to lure the stud for another encounter soon.
And the situation was already hot enough. Especially to her, as she had harbored the desire to get fucked in the Greenhouse for a long time. A grimace spread across her face at the reminder of her proposal to her husband and his subsequent reaction and words.
A freak!
Wasn't that what her husband called her?
Well, he couldn't really complain if she followed through with her desire in his absence, could he?
Too bad she had to bring another wizard to fulfill her desires. A better wizard. A better man.
The better wizard, who was stroking his cock, preparing it for shoving inside her. Anastasia gulped as the sheer size in front of her didn't do justice to her imagination. She could hardly believe that she had held the thing in her hands and carried on her business in front of Lily like it wasn't a big issue. Hell, even seeing it in action against Alice hadn't prepared her, a niggling doubt forming in her mind whether she could even take the mammoth appendage inside her underused pussy.
No! If The Black sisters could do it, then she would also do it. Nobody could stop her now.
Harry stroked his cock vigorously, dragging the foreskin way past the fat glans and she saw the inflamed, purplish cock-head angled in her direction, losing her breath as the sheer rotundness of the dick registered in her mind. Why is he delaying?
"Harry dear, my wrists are getting numb," Anastasia murmured, thrusting her chest. Her voice dragged Harry's attention to her as he was too busy jerking himself to pay any attention.
"It's just…I was trying to spread the wetness…you know." Harry hesitated once before shuffling ahead and stopping just as his dick was a few centimeters away from her fanny. "Hmm… Maybe this will work…"
Harry spat a large dollop of spit in his palm and slathered that all over the head and shaft of his cock, making the aroused pole glisten.
The same hand that was lathering the spit held the dick in the middle and Harry placed the head at her pussy, rubbing it all over her petals. The congealed fem-cum around her pussy spread across his cock-head, mixing with the previously applied saliva.
She bit her lips, controlling her moans that were threatening to escape. The cock-head was perfectly proportioned to the full package. As such, the purplish helmet in itself was big enough to make herself question the night's decisions. The dildo that was her trusty partner for so long felt puny compared to this behemoth and her husband… well, let's not go there.
It was a testament to her arousal as the cockhead burst through her vaginal opening, with her folds spreading wide open at a slight push. Just the penetration of the helmet almost made her cum, and as Harry kept on shoving thick inches after thick inches, sounds burst through from her closed lips—even though she had bitten them to stop emitting some embarrassing sounds.
"NNNGGGHHHHH… Slow down, Love…." Anastasia choked down a slutty moan. "You are a lot bigger than my husband!" Thankfully, Harry stalled at her request, barely a quarter of his cock inside her. "I have never taken something so big!'
"Ohhh… sure…" He groaned, his handsome face screwed up, looking down to where their organs were joined. The impulse to lean forward and kiss the gorgeous green-eyed hunk made her shiver, but she corralled that desire. She was supposed to be playing the role of a victim of circumstances, not imitating a desperate middle-aged witch.
Nibbling her lips and squinting at the wizard, she loosened the Snares around the neck so she could watch her body being violated and commit it to her memory.
And promptly creamed all over the invading phallus.
Her otherwise tight-looking pussy was completely messed up, her folds bullied entirely so she could only see the massive pulsing shaft of the beastly cock. Her red clit was fighting against the invading cock, but it was swept away by the invading monstrosity's might. The scent of their joining…Morgana! How she wished to snort the overpowering odor every day!
The churning of her fem-cum continued as she estimated the amount of dick still outside of her fold was larger than her largest dildo.
I'm going to be ruined… I am going to be totally, absolutely ruined.
She could hardly wait for that to happen.
"I'm ready." She whispered, almost sure that she could handle another few inches. "But please go slowly."
"Hmmm." Harry grunted and she could see the veins of his neck bulging as he pushed his hips up, hands going to his waist.
Her heads rolled back as half-a dozen inches of meat forced inside of her canal, parting her tight passage, invoking a sense of madness that she wished she had tasted before.
"MMPPHHH…. Morgana….Yes!"
Fuck holding back anymore! The pulsing appendage rubbed against spots that she wasn't even aware of, scrapping, pushing and dragging her entire flesh inside out as Harry withdrew his cock. Only the head remained inside her fold and then with a grunt he pushed even more inches inside her, jerking her body back with the power of his thrust.
"Fuck! Yes!"
Her shout was still ringing around the Greenhouse when he pulled his hips back and shoved even harder.
Is this what fucking with a well-hung guy felt like?
Anastasia drooled with her eyes closed, pleasurable moans now flowing without restraint from her mouth.
The masculine grunt that emanated from thrusting Harry was music to her ears, satisfying the feminine part of her soul that rejoiced at the thought of an alpha male taking pleasure from her stacked, busty body. The joy also eroded her caution and the common sense.
"Is my old cunny feeling good for you, my love?" Anastasia asked coyly, head lolling and eyes wide. "Is it as good as the young witches of Hogwarts?"
As her black-haired partner focused his impossibly gorgeous eyes to her face, a sudden understanding flashed into their emerald hues.
Oh Merlin, did she give her game away?
Harry lurched ahead, the last quarter that was outside of her hot, wet sheath punished through her insides, and Anastassia felt full, incredibly full, like someone had shoved their entire arm inside her. Maybe something even bigger than that.
Her shout got stuck in her throat, and before she could express how fucked she was, her partner leaned forward and swallowed her scream with his tongue, his hands flashing up and mauling her barely covered tits, shoving aside the scant few vines that was pretending to cover her.
Her tongue quickly joined in the duel, but she was no match for a wizard of Harry's pedigree, quickly submitting and surrendering, allowing him complete access to her cavity.
His hands pinched and pulled her nipples, drawing them out, then forcing them inside the breasts. She couldn't even voice her delights at the unfamiliar sensation as he was trying to lick her tonsils, not giving her any respite in the smooch.
His hips mimicked a piston, going in and out of her pussy as if he had sworn to destroy the hole forever, the veins and the ridges of his dick drawing out her orgasm in lightning speed. And the sound of clapping that assaulted her ears from his hips crashing into her flesh… She felt herself squirt a few drops of her love, with a veritable load waiting to be splatted all over her lover and the plant beneath them.
When both felt breathless, Harry finally withdrew from the kiss, glaring at her with that green eyes of his.
"I should have realized you are bullshitting all this time!" His teeth gritted, hips taking revenge for her duplicity. 'To think I was worried about your safety…"
Anastasia burrowed her face into his neck, feeling herself faint at the acquisition. She had been quite devious, hadn't she?
"This is just a fucking useless Devil's snare, isn't it? Not any fucking special breed?" His hands crept below her breasts and he hefted them, weighing them in his palms. 'You are controlling this green shit!"
She could only nod in the crook of his neck, relinquishing the control over the snares. They retreated from their vicinity immediately and only her arms coming up and embracing the standing wizard saved her from having an embarrassing accident.
Harry's hands left her breasts and flashed behind her bum where he held her weight, keeping her afloat with nary an effort.
The palms didn't remain idle for long and started mauling her doughy asscheeks, spreading them and then squashing them together. Holding her in his arms, Harry started pulling her in rhythm with his upward thrusts, her breasts mashed against his pecks, nipples rubbing against his tough skin.
She wailed in orgasming bliss, a keening sound escaping her throat, unlike any she had ever emitted.
"All the married pureblood witches are the same, aren't they" Harry's voice washed against her, and she barely comprehended them with all the jerking and moving around, even though she never felt safer as she was then, nestled into the powerful wizard's arms. "Only thinking about satiating their thirsty pussies. Just show them a big cock and they will betray their marriages like the horny bitches they are!"
Harry divulging his affairs should have alarmed her, but feeling his cockhead punching some sacred place inside her pussy like a battering ram, drove away the thoughts, making her as airheaded as the witches she used to look down. The thick head seemed determined to burrow into her throat itself, before with a wet squelch she felt something give away, the monster of a penis wrecking something, making something its home that no mere mortal cock should conquer.
Her sacred womb.
The knowledge of the young wizard's cock on the verge of knocking her up with a cheating baby, along with all the stimulation became her undoing, her body slackened in Harry's hold causing him to stumble behind at the opposite row, where her greenhouse's most valuable plants were kept.
The moonbeams.
"Harrryyyy….. Fuck a baby into me! Give me a hunky son like you!"
"You fucking, cheating slut!"
The feeling of weightlessness was for just a moment and then she could feel herself falling, directly above the large frame of Harry as he splashed into recently watered saplings. A pained 'oomph" followed a burning sensation in her abdomen.
Barely aware of her surroundings, she felt herself lying over Harry's prone form and then came the electric current as she realized with the fall; she had taken every single inch of the massive bitchbreaker inside her hole.
"Cummmmmming…. Hnnnggggh!"
The mother of all orgasms washed over her, sending painful pleasures all over her body, from her head to the extremities—not a single part of her body was deprived of the best feeling of her life.
She heard a bestial groan from the wizard lying beneath, and then immense heat engulfed her womb, followed by a never before feeling of getting splashed by a breeding bull.
She blacked out entirely.
One minute… Five minutes or fifty minutes. She did not know how long she was out of her senses, but she couldn't deny the feeling of fullness and getting clogged felt good. The hands rubbing her asscheeks also felt very nice.
"Sorry about the ruined plants." Harry mumbled, sniffing her hair. "I tripped."
She rose from his torso, eyes taking in the devastation that their tumble had caused.
A wry snort escaped her before she saw her torn and shredded night-suit was still clinging to her frame. Whatever integrity remained of that fabric, quickly saw an end at her hands as she furiously tore it from her torso and flung it aside. The muscle shirt hiding the body of her paramour also joined her suit. As Harry lay there on the trampled pieces of moonbeam plants, the overhead moon and a dozen fire-flies swirled above them, making the pair of them seem like those characters from her erotic nobles—after the hero had saved the princess and was in the process of claiming her body. But as her eyes roved across the lines of taut muscles and bulging sinew, mouth watering with the desire to gobble him up, she was damn sure no hero had a body so perfect or abs so defined.
Her smarting pussy protesting, she rose herself from his cock, till the halfway of its immense length and then let her weight drop.
A disgusting, wet squelch followed her actions along with the earlier mind-numbing pleasure.
"You still want more, do you?" There was a challenge in Harry's voice and she smirked in return. Her eyes promised the oncoming naughty pleasures.
She cupped her tits together, and shoved the young wizard's face in her bosom, suffocating him and forcing him to motorboat them.
"Harry dear, I know my stupid daughter chose that lame Malfoy instead of you." She shook her tits, feeling his hands coming and cupping them. "Please take liberty with my body as an apology for my foolish little daughter."
Anastasia felt teeth clamping on her nips before a full-bodied thrust came from the underlying wizard.
The cock of her dreams knocking on her womb, and promising to fill her up after the long drought, Anastasia knew the fun had just started.
After all, she had a dozen hours to fulfill her every filthy wish. And she was going to fulfill them. Even if her husband showed up.
A tugging on her shirt made Daphne realize the last half an hour was not a hoax, neither a nightmare that she was trying to convince herself of. The voices still blasting her eardrums were easy to ignore now. Maybe she had become accustomed to the squeals and grunts.
"Let's go."
She trotted behind Tracey's argent arguing. The surreal feeling was hard to shrug off.
What could she do now? Should she confront her mother about her betrayal? What was she even going to say to her? Especially with the last few sentences from her prim and proper mother still gonging in her mind.
Her mother's vehemence on her dating choice and her adamant belief that she would be happier with Harry Potter now made sense. Though the gratitude she felt was tinged with bitterness. Just because she refused to date Harry, her mother had no right to hook up with Harry herself. She should feel anger at her mom for making her father a cuckold, for besmirching her family's name, but she supposed it was kind of inevitable.
She was under no illusion of there being any love between her parents, and her mother was most probably waiting for the right opportunity to betray her vows. Or maybe the right partner.
A wizard that she wanted her daughter to date.
Her teeth gritted as an inexplicable anger exploded inside her, a possessive fire spreading along at the thought of her childhood friend now in the grasp of her mother. Yes, she had chosen Draco, even knowing Harry's crush, but damn it! Her mother couldn't just come from nowhere and take her place in Harry's life.
She denied the thought that she had been avoiding Harry for the last year. She was just too busy.
As much as she would like to reestablish her close friendship with Harry, she knew it would be difficult. But she could hardly let her mom take her place in Harry's life now, could she?
"Daphne! Daphne!"
Tracey's shout finally penetrated the fog of plans that she was making. Daphne shook her head, promising herself to think about it later.
She choked back a curse as Tracey kept shaking her, as they had somehow made her way to the manor when she was too busy in her thoughts.
"What?" Daphne barely held back her irritation.
"Are you all right, Daph? I can't even think how someone could feel after seeing their mother like that."
"I'm ok." She wasn't.
Tracey bit her lips, looking at her nervously, before pulling out her mother's two dildoes from a bag that she had somehow hidden from her. "Do you want to put these back, now that she has arrived?"
Daphne watched the pair of phallic-shaped objects with unseeing eyes, her earlier wonderment of their enormity entirely absent.
She supposed after seeing what her childhood friend had inside his trousers, everything would look trivial.
"No. Take these things with you." She said, shushing Tracey when she was about to argue. "Do you think she will need these anymore?"
Tracey spluttered and choked at her question, a pink flush blooming on the otherwise shameless girl's face.
"Will you be coming back to my place?"
Daphne hmm'd, thinking for a few seconds before replying.
"You go ahead. I will be there in ten minutes." She shooed away Tracey in the floo's direction, taking the stairs herself.
After all, she did need to visit her parent's bedroom.