ALL CHARACTERS PORTRAYED WITHIN THIS STORY ARE 18 YEARS OLD OR ABOVE.
Summary: An ancient law founded long before the time of Merlin awakens after Harry strikes down Voldemort. Now the oaths of all the Death Eaters transfer to him. Bound to his service, the war criminals must now hand over their fealty, wealth, and even their wives and daughters to satisfy the ancient rite.
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Chapter 25: Social Drinking
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Harry slumped against the cushions of the couch with a groan, every muscle in his body aching from the day’s grueling training session. Across from him, Tonks mirrored his movements, collapsing limply into her seat as exhaustion seeped into her bones.
Only one week remained before his duel with Voss, and because of that, his training with the vibrant-haired metamorph had intensified even further. Hours upon hours of mock duels, drills, and punishing physical exercises consumed most of his days. Whenever Tonks couldn’t join him because of her work as an Auror, Harry invited others instead. Ron and Hermione had proven to be just as formidable as they had been during the war. Thankfully, the lingering awkwardness between his two closest friends over their past relationship had almost completely faded. It had actually been refreshing to spend time with them again, even if those evenings usually involved them hurling spells at his head.
Flora also joined him from time to time. The mute girl was even more vicious than Harry had anticipated, and far sneakier too. Harry had his hands full whenever she decided to join him in the ring. Though she had yet to land so much as a scratch on him, the lithe witch always managed to unveil some new trick that put him on the back foot at least once every duel. Her latest stunt had involved disapparating in the middle of a fight, only to reappear completely naked three feet above him. The Cheshire-like smirk on her face as she descended upon him, every inch of her petite body on display, was something Harry doubted he would ever forget. Only his quick reflexes had saved him, allowing him to catch the silent girl midair and pin her face-first against the ground. Flora’s response had not been to struggle or retaliate, but instead to grind her naked ass against his crotch while flashing him a thoroughly devious smirk.
Needless to say, training had been cut short that day.
Back in the present, however, there had been very little in the way of Flora-shaped distractions. Instead, Tonks had brought her A-game, dragging Harry through nearly four hours of brutal physical drills before launching into another four hours of even harsher mock duels.
In short, Harry was exhausted. Judging by the look on Tonks’s face, she wasn’t faring much better.
“I’ll tell you what, Wonder Boy,” the metamorph began, her voice thick with fatigue as she stared blankly at the ceiling, “if Voss thinks this is going to be an easy fight, he’s got another thing coming. I’d gladly put my money on you trouncing that bugger any day.”I’ll happily put my money on you trouncing that bugger any day.”
Harry huffed out a tired laugh at the pink-haired auror’s words. “Thanks for the vote of confidence Tonks.”
Tonks replied with a wave of her hand. “Anytime,” she said, a groan bubbling up from her lips as she shifted in her chair. “Say, what’s a girl got to do for a stiff drink around here? I’d say we’ve both earned one after today.”
Before Harry could reply, Pansy’s face suddenly appeared around the corner with her eyes alight in excitement. “Did someone ask for a drink?” the collared girl asked as she stepped into the room.
Tonks blinked owlishly at the other witch’s sudden appearance. “Uhm, yeah?”
“Perfect!” Pansy chirped before turning sharply to face where she came. “Slut! Come here!”
Tonks shot Harry a questioning look at Pansy’s shout. Harry, however, was just as confused as she was. That is, until Alerie Parkinson stepped into view.
“You called?” the Parkinson matriarch murmured.
The older witch stood meekly before her daughter with her head bowed and eyes glued to the floor. Her delicate features burned red with shame as she stood in little more than a halter top made of only a few leather straps connected by small chains that ran horizontally across her chest. The small metal strands did little to cover anything, leaving the gentle swell of the woman’s breasts on full display. To make matters worse for the elder Parkinson, her matching skirt was no better. It was a single leather strap wrapped around her waist, connected only in the front and back by two metal rings. Small chains hung from the rings, following the curvature of her hips and leaving the front view of her hairless pussy completely unimpeded by anyone who looked. The only thing she wore that could even be remotely considered clothing was the pair of sheer lace stockings, but as they only came up to her mid-thigh, Harry hardly thought they counted.
Tonks stared openly at the Parkinson matron, yet there was only mild surprise adoring her features. Then again, why should she be surprised at all? Since the metamorph agreed to help him train, Tonks had become somewhat of a regular visitor as of late, often joining him back at Grimmauld for a quick chat and the occasional drink, like today. As such, Tonks was no stranger to the girls’ odd choices of clothing, or lack thereof. Pansy enjoyed walking around topless often enough to ensure that. So Alerie’s state of undress, while slightly out of the norm, was no real surprise.
“I did,” Pansy nodded, uncaring of her mother’s obvious shame at wearing such sinfully exposing garments. “Our lord and his guest require a drink. Get to it slut.”
Nodding, Alerie said nothing as she shuffled over to the small wet bar tucked away in the corner. With her back to them, both Harry and Tonks had an unhindered view of the older witch’s equally exposed ass where the glistening gem of a silver butt-plug was snuggled firmly between both cheeks. The sight was enough to make Harry’s cock stir in his trousers. Tonks shot him yet another questioning look, but he merely shrugged, his eyes affixed to Alerie’s swaying hips as she worked. The older woman returned with two glasses, her hands trembling slightly as she offered them to Harry and Tonks.
“Is there anything else you require, my lord?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before Harry could respond, Pansy stepped forward, her expression a mask of cruel delight. “In fact, there is!” she said, her voice dripping with malice, “get on your knees. Now, mother.”
Alerie’s body tensed, but she obeyed, sinking gracefully to the floor, her eyes still downcast. Pansy smirked, looking at Harry with a slightly hopeful look. “She needs to learn how to serve after all, right my lord?”
Harry opened his mouth to answer, yet hesitated. Intrigued as he was by Pansy’s game, they weren’t exactly alone. Glancing at Tonks, he was slightly surprised to find the metamorph watching with unashamed interest, her eyes alert and focused as she sipped her drink. Meeting his gaze, the metamorph shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Don’t let me stop you,” she said, her grin sharpening ever so slightly. “It’s your house after all.”
With a nod, Harry looked back at Alerie, whose cheeks were flushed with a mix of shame and anticipation. “Go ahead. Slut,” he added with a small grin towards Pansy.
Pansy smiled back happily, slipping onto the cushion beside him as Alerie moved forward. She unzipped his pants, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against his growing erection. She took him in her hand, her grip firm and confident, and leaned in, her lips parting as she took him into her mouth.
Harry groaned, his head falling back against the cushions as he felt the wet heat of her mouth envelop him. Pansy watched with a wicked grin, her eyes alight with excitement. “That’s it, Mother,” she purred, her voice thick with arousal. “Show our lord what a good little slut you can be.”
Alerie’s mouth worked him with a fervour that belied her earlier hesitation. Her lips slid down his shaft, taking him deep into her throat, her tongue swirling and sucking as she bobbed her head up and down. Harry’s hands found her hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands as he guided her movements, his hips bucking up to meet her. Alerie’s hand, the one not gripping his thigh for balance, moved to cup his heavy balls, rolling them gently in her palm as her mouth continued its work. The contrast between her skilled, almost reverent service and the utter humiliation of her position, orchestrated by her own daughter, was a potent cocktail that sent a jolt straight through his already rock-hard cock.
Pansy, for her part, was clearly revelling in the spectacle. She had shifted closer, her own breath coming in shallow pants as she watched her mother debase herself so completely. The brunette’s hand slid down his chest, her nails scraping lightly against his shirt before coming to rest on his abdomen, just above where her mother's lips were stretched around his girth.
"Deeper, Mother," she commanded, her voice a husky whisper that vibrated with authority. "Take all of him. Show him you're grateful for the privilege."
Alerie whimpered around his shaft, the sound muffled and desperate. She redoubled her efforts, pushing down until her nose was buried in the coarse hair at his base, her throat constricting around his head as she fought her gag reflex. Harry cursed under his breath, his grip tightening in her hair, holding her there for a moment longer before allowing her to pull back with a gasp, a thick string of saliva connecting her swollen lips to his cock.
The sight was intoxicating. Alerie's face was a mess of ruined makeup and desperate arousal, her eyes glassy and unfocused as she stared up at him with a look of utter worship. Across from them, Tonks had set her drink down, her own exhaustion forgotten as she watched the scene unfold with an intense, almost predatory gaze.
Tonks, however, was hardly Harry’s focus at the moment. His attention was wholly focused on the woman at his feet.
"Stand up and turn around," Harry ordered, his voice low and firm. Alerie complied instantly, her movements fluid despite the trembling in her limbs. She rose to her feet, her back now to him, presenting her ass with the glittering jewel of the plug nestled between her cheeks. He reached out, his hand tracing the curve of her spine before coming to rest on the flared base of the plug. He gave it a gentle twist, and Alerie gasped, her back arching as a fresh wave of pleasure washed over her. Pansy let out a soft giggle, her hand creeping down to rub at her own clit through the thin material of her skirt.
"Bend over," he commanded, giving the plug another, more insistent twist. Alerie bent forward at the waist, bracing her hands on her knees. The position pushed her ass out, making it an even more tempting target. In a single, swift motion, Harry pulled the butt-plug free from her ass, hooking his fingers into the chains hanging from her skirt as he used them as leverage to pull the older witch back towards him. Alerie’s gasp was cut off as Harry’s cock, still slick with her saliva, pressed against her puckered hole. He didn't push in, not yet, just held himself there, letting her feel the weight of his intention, the promise of what was to come. The anticipation was a tangible thing, a thick silence broken only by their ragged breaths and the soft, wet sounds of Pansy's fingers as they slipped beneath the waistband of her skirt and into the folds of her cunt.
Finally, with a slow, inexorable push, he breached her. Alerie cried out, a sharp, guttural sound of pain and pleasure as her ass was stretched wide to accommodate him. He didn't stop until he was fully seated, his hips flush against her cheeks, the plug still nestled beside his throbbing shaft. He held her there for a moment, letting her adjust to the fullness, the feeling of being so completely possessed. Pansy was watching with rapt attention, her own orgasm building as she watched her mother being taken so completely. "Fuck her, my lord," she begged, her voice high and thin with need. "Fuck her arse like the slut she is."
Harry obliged. He set a brutal pace from the outset, his hips driving into her with enough force to make her whole body rock forward. Alerie's cries were sharp and high, a mixture of pain and overwhelming pleasure that filled the room. Each powerful thrust sent the chains on her skirt jingling and the flesh of her ass rippling from the impact. He held her hips in a bruising grip, using them as leverage to piston into her tight back door, watching with dark satisfaction as his cock disappeared into her again and again. The sheer debasement of it all, of a noblewoman like Alerie being bent over and fucked in the ass while her daughter watched and egged him on, was a potent aphrodisiac.
Pansy was a mess of arousal beside him. Her skirt was now bunched up around her waist, her hand moving furiously between her legs as she watched her mother's degradation. Her own whimpers and moans joined Alerie's, creating a lewd chorus that seemed to spur him on. He could feel his own climax building, a familiar tightening in his balls as he drove into her again and again, the heat and tightness of her ass pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He glanced over at Tonks, who was now leaning forward in her seat, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and undisguised lust as she watched the raw, primal scene unfold before her.
With a final, guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his seed. Alerie screamed, her own orgasm crashing over her as she felt the warmth of his release flooding her bowels. She collapsed forward, her body trembling and spent, as he slowly withdrew from her depths. Harry slumped back against the couch, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Pansy was there in an instant, her lips finding his cock, her tongue circling around the tip to taste the remnants of his release.
Harry’s eyes dragged across the room, locking with the pink-haired metamorph’s once more. Tonks raised her glass in a silent toast, an intrigued smirk on her face as she took a long, slow sip.
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The crunch of gravel under their boots was the only sound as they approached the imposing front door of Bones Manor. The evening air was cool, a welcome relief from the stuffy intensity of the training room. Harry could feel the lingering tension in his shoulders, a tight knot of muscle that had refused to loosen for days. He was so focused on the upcoming duel, too focused, really. He was not worried, not any more than any competent fighter would be before a duel. He knew his capabilities and Harry was confident that he could more than handle Voss. No, his focus was entirely on the reason behind Voss’s actions. Tonks had made a good point. Voss was no mastermind himself. There had to be someone pulling his strings just as Voss was pulling Nott’s.
It was a confusing mess with too many unknowns. And Harry’s been through enough to know that unknowns could get people killed.
“That’s enough,” Daphne said suddenly, her voice cutting through his thoughts. She stopped walking, forcing him and Pansy to halt as well. She looked at him, her expression serious and devoid of its usual playful smirk. “I mean it, Harry. You’ve brooding since we left the manor. You’re going to burn yourself out before the duel even happens.”
Pansy rolled her eyes, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “She’s right, you know. Much more of this and you’ll be too strung out to even raise your wand, let alone fight that German tosser.”
Harry sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I just want to be prepared.”
“You are prepared,” Daphne insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ve been working tirelessly. You’re more than ready. What you need now is to rest. To clear your head.”
A slow smile spread across Pansy’s face. “And what better way to clear your head than by getting absolutely sloshed with Bones?” she chimed in, nudging him with her elbow. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Besides, you promised.”
Harry couldn’t argue with that. He had promised, mostly to get Pansy to stop pestering him about it for a week straight. Ever since he’d let Susan’s invite at the ball slip, the former Slytherin had been insistent. He looked at the manor before them now, its warm, inviting lights a stark contrast to the cold focus that had been his constant companion in recent weeks. “Alright,” he conceded, holding up his hands in surrender. “You win.”
Daphne’s serious expression finally softened into a small, approving smile. “Good decision,” she said, before turning and raising her hand to the heavy wooden door, knocking three times.
The door swung open almost immediately, revealing Susan Bones with a wide, welcoming smile that made her whole face light up. Her deep red hair was tied back in a loose bun, and she wore a simple outfit of a green Muggle hoodie and cut-off jean shorts that hugged her generous curves.
“Harry! Daphne! Pansy!” she chirped, her voice full of genuine warmth. “I was wondering when you three would finally get here. Come on in, the first round is already poured.”
The parlour she led them to was just as inviting as she was. It was more homely than Grimmauld Place, with comfortable-looking armchairs and a crackling fire in the hearth. A bottle of firewhisky and three glasses sat on a small table, alongside a fourth, already half-empty.
“I started without you,” Susan admitted with a sheepish grin. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Pansy declared, making a beeline for the decanter of amber liquid. “It just means we have some catching up to do. I intend to drink you under the table tonight, Bones.”
Susan’s laugh was a warm, melodic sound that filled the cosy parlour. “I’ll hold you to that, Pansy. Now, drink up. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
They settled into the plush, deep-cushioned armchairs, the fire crackling merrily in the hearth, casting a warm, flickering glow across the room. For the first hour, the conversation was light, a welcome respite from the heavy weight of politics and duelling. They traded stories, Susan catching them up on the latest happenings at the Ministry, while Pansy regaled them with the latest gossip that she somehow acquired despite hardly ever leaving Grimmauld Place.
Through it all, Harry found himself relaxing for the first time in days, the tension in his shoulders finally beginning to unravel as the firewhisky worked its magic. After awhile, with the burn of alcohol on his tongue and the warmth of inebriation in his veins, Harry began to lose track of the conversation. He simply found himself laughing along quietly, allowing the girls to take the reins as he nursed his drink. Yet as the fire crackled and the empty bottles multiplied on the small table, the conversation shifted. Slowly at first, enough for Harry not to notice at first until the playful banter and laughter gave way to a comfortable silence, yet in a way that felt as if the very air itself were balanced upon a knife’s edge.
"If I asked you guys something, would you answer honestly?" Susan asked suddenly, her voice dropping an octave.
"Depends on the question," Daphne replied, her voice smooth and composed, though her cheeks were flushed a deep, ruddy pink.
Susan laughed, a tipsy, bubbly sound. “Fair. Look, just no judgment, alright? It’s just…I've seen the way you two look at Harry and vice versa. And I don’t mean in the sappy affection type of way. I mean…well, like at the ball! Harry, not to put you on the spot mate, but you kept looking at Daphne like you were three seconds away from shagging her against the wall that night.”
Harry cleared his throat, feeling the heat rise to his own face. It wasn't untrue. In fact, if Nott hadn't shown up, he and Daphne would likely have done just that in the gardens before Hestia interrupted.
“Sorry?” he supplied, unsure of how to respond to such a statement.
Susan, however, waved him off. “No, don’t apologise, mate! If I’d been in your shoes, Daph’ and I wouldn’t have made it five minutes before I was tearing her dress off, much less an entire ball! Oh, uhm, no offence, Daphne,” Susan added, the flush in her cheeks growing as she gave the blonde an apologetic look.
Daphne, however, shrugged, the corners of her lips ever so slightly turned upwards in amusement. “No offence taken. Harry tears enough of my dresses anyhow. I wouldn’t have minded.”
The blonde’s words did little to soothe Susan’s feelings. If anything, the redhead seemed to blush harder as Daphne spoke.
“G–Good. That’s, uhm, good since it’s kind of what I was wanting to talk about.” The buxom Auror took a breath. “Look, I’m only asking this because I’m drunk and incredibly fucking single, but do you think you three could maybe…share a few details?”
“About our sex life?” Pansy asked, the girl’s earlier playful demeanour now gone, replaced by genuine intrigue. The brunette looked to Harry and Daphne, searching for their feelings on the subject. Daphne, as always, remained impassive and simply took a sip of her drink, her blue eyes sliding over to him for the final decision.
Be it the alcohol in his system or maybe his own sort of perverse curiosity, Harry couldn’t find a reason to deny his friend's request. After all, the manner of his relationship with Pansy and Daphne, and even the other girls, was no secret. With a small nod, he gave Pansy the go-ahead.
Smiling, Pansy turned back to Susan, a lecherous edge now added to her smile. “What do you want to know?”
As if she hadn't expected them to actually agree, Susan floundered for a bit, sputtering as she sat up in her seat and set her drink to the side. “I–Ah–Fuck you’re really putting a girl on the spot. What’s–uhm–What’s Harry’s favourite position to fuck you in, I guess?”
“Why do you want to know mine?” Harry voiced with a hint of indignation.
“It’s the first thing I could think of, okay?” Susan snapped back, the flush in her cheeks seemingly a permanent fixture within this conversation.
Rolling his eyes, Harry waved his hand, deferring the question to the other girls. Daphne answered first, letting out a low, throaty laugh as she swirled her glass in her hands.
"Well," she drawled, “He particularly enjoys taking me from behind. Doesn’t matter where, really. On my hands and knees, bent over the kitchen table, against the wall—he has no preference. As long as I’m bent over and he’s gripping my hips tight while I beg him to go faster…” Daphne trailed off, a satisfied smile on her face. “I believe we both find that part quite exhilarating.” Daphne turned towards Pansy, a questioning look on her face. “What about you, Pans’?”
Pansy smirked, her eyes flicking over toward Harry with a teasing glint. “Oh, he loves shagging me from behind as well, but I think his real favourite is when I’m on my knees. He simply adores shoving his big, fat cock down my throat,” she giggled, her eyes unabashedly moving down towards Harry’s crotch as she continued. “Sometimes he has me kneel down and blow him while he just watches me worship his cock. Other times, he likes to hold me by my hair while he fucks my face. I don’t mind either way, though. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the feeling of him pulsing in my mouth while I swallow his load.”
Susan let out a low whistle, her eyes widening as she stared at Pansy. "Fuck me. You two certainly aren’t shy about this sort of thing. I’ll admit, that’s... refreshing.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her gaze flickering from the girls and Harry. “And what about you? Were these two telling the truth?”
Harry shrugged. He was feeling a bit brazen at the moment. “More or less. Don't let them fool you, though. Daphne loves being fucked on her hands and knees. Our resident Ice Queen likes a bit of degradation now and again. Pansy, meanwhile, is a slut through and through. She likes playing the part of the ‘toy’. Nothing makes her cum faster than being used by the other girls or me.”
“Unless it's that French whore,” Pansy chimed in with a pout. “Or Isabella, but that’s because she’s a miserable cunt. Gabrielle is just annoying.”
“I seem to remember someone happily licking Harry’s cum out of Gabrielle’s cunt only a few days ago,” Daphne replied, her smirk on clear display as her blue eyes burned into Pansy.
Pansy’s blush returned in full force. “Yeah, well… up yours, Greengrass.”
“Mmm~ You did that the other night too,” Daphne bit back, her bottom lip trapped ever-so-slightly between her teeth. “However, I don’t think Susan here wishes to hear us bicker. You wanted more details, yes?”
“I—” Susan began, swallowing thickly. “To be honest, all I really want now is to see it myself.”
“Okay.”
Three pairs of eyes snapped towards him. Harry didn’t so much as blink; instead, he downed the remainder of his drink, the pleasant buzz beneath his skin egging his confidence on, and smirked.
“Why not? These two wouldn’t mind. They love putting on a show. Don’t you?” he asked, turning his attention to Daphne and Pansy.
Pansy’s smirk mirrored his own as she stood. “Oh, definitely. We can never resist showing off. Right Daph’?”
Daphne rolled her eyes but stood as well, joining Pansy as they sauntered over to Harry. “I suppose it would be rude to ignore both our master’s and our host’s needs.”
Both girls knelt as one, sinking to their knees before him while Susan watched on. Her fluttering breaths left her in quiet gasps as she watched the two vixens pull his cock free from the confines of his jeans. The sight of his thick, veined shaft, already glistening with precum, made her stomach clench with anticipation.
Harry let out a low groan as Pansy, ever the eager one, immediately engulfed the head of his cock with her hot, wet mouth. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive ridge, lapping up the bead of precum that had gathered there. She took him deep, her nose pressing against the coarse hair at his base, before pulling back with an obscene slurping sound. Daphne, meanwhile, was not to be outdone. While Pansy worked his shaft, Daphne leaned in, her cool, silken tongue tracing the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock before dipping lower to take one of his heavy balls into her mouth. She suckled gently, rolling the sensitive orb with her tongue, sending a jolt straight up Harry's spine.
The dual sensations were overwhelming, a perfect symphony of heat and wetness. Pansy bobbed her head, her movements sloppy and enthusiastic, while Daphne alternated between his balls, her mouth a cool, soothing counterpoint to Pansy's fiery heat. Harry's hand found its way into their hair, his fingers tangling in Pansy's dark locks and Daphne's blonde waves, guiding their movements as he watched them work.From across the room, a soft, choked sound drew his attention. Susan was still in her armchair, but she had shifted, her legs now spread wide, one hand disappearing beneath the fabric of her cut-off shorts. Her eyes were wide, glued to the scene before her, her chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths. The sight of his friend touching herself as she watched them, sent a fresh wave of arousal through Harry.
"Stand up," Harry commanded, his voice a low growl that was thick with lust. "Both of you. Strip."
Pansy and Daphne immediately complied, pulling away from his cock with visible reluctance. They stood before him, their bodies illuminated by the flickering firelight, and began to undress. Daphne moved with a deliberate grace, slowly unbuttoning her silk blouse, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her torso and the lacy black bra beneath. She shimmied out of her skirt, letting it pool at her feet, leaving her in just her underwear. Pansy, on the other hand, was far less patient. She practically tore her clothes off, her dress discarded in a heap on the floor, followed by her bra and panties. She stood proudly, her hands on her hips, her toned body on full display. Harry's gaze then shifted to Susan, who was still watching them with a hungry, desperate look in her eyes.
"You too, Susan," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "All of it."
Susan hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. But the desire in her eyes won out over her embarrassment. She stood, her movements clumsy with drunken arousal, and pulled her hoodie over her head, revealing a plain cotton bra that strained against the weight of her generous breasts. She unbuttoned her shorts and let them fall, stepping out of them before reaching back to unhook her bra. Her breasts spilled out, large and round with rosy nipples that were already hard with arousal. Finally, she slid her panties down her legs, revealing a neatly trimmed patch of red hair between her thighs. She stood before him, naked and vulnerable, her body trembling slightly with anticipation.
"On your hands and knees, Daphne," Harry ordered, his gaze fixed on the blonde. "Face down."
Daphne obeyed without question, sinking to the plush carpet and positioning herself as he commanded. Her ass was high in the air, a perfect offering, her glistening folds peeking out from between her thighs. Harry moved behind her, his cock throbbing with need. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, and positioned himself at her entrance. With one hard, deep thrust, he buried himself inside her. Daphne let out a muffled cry as he filled her, his cock stretching her tight walls. He began to move, his hips slamming against her ass with a force that made her whole body rock. He reached down, grabbing a handful of her blonde hair and pushing her face into the carpet, muffling her moans and cries of pleasure.
Pansy appeared unbidden, the wanton look affixed to her features a testament to her arousal as she leaned in, her tongue darting out to tease the sensitive ring of Daphne’s asshole. Daphne let out a loud, guttural moan as Pansy's tongue explored her, the dual sensations of Harry's cock pounding into her and Pansy's tongue in her ass pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Harry could feel Daphne's walls clenching around him, her body tensing as she neared her release. With a final, guttural cry, she came, her body convulsing with pleasure as her orgasm washed over her.
As soon as Daphne's spasms subsided, Harry pulled out of her, his cock slick with her juices. He turned his attention to Pansy, her face lined up perfectly with his cock from where she knelt above Daphne’s ass.
"Open up," he commanded.
Pansy smirked, her mouth already opening in anticipation. Harry grabbed her by the hair, his grip tight, and shoved his cock into her mouth, forcing her to take all of him. He didn't give her time to adjust, immediately setting a brutal pace. His hips pistoned forward, burying his length in her throat again and again. Pansy gagged, tears welling in her eyes as he used her mouth, but she took it, her hands coming up to grip his thighs for support. Saliva dribbled down her chin, coating his balls in a messy sheen. He watched her, watched his cock disappear between her lips, and the sight sent a fresh wave of lust through him. He could feel her throat constricting around him with every thrust, the sensation exquisite. He looked over at Susan, who was still standing by her armchair, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and raw, unadulterated lust. He could see the slick sheen on her thighs, a clear sign of her own arousal.
"Come here," he grunted, not breaking his rhythm as he continued to fuck Pansy's face.
Susan moved as if in a trance, her feet carrying her across the room until she was kneeling beside him. Harry reached out with his free hand, his fingers tangling in her red hair, and pulled her into a rough, demanding kiss. His tongue plundered her mouth, tasting the firewhisky on her breath as he claimed her. Susan responded with a fervour that surprised him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed her body against his, her breasts crushed against his chest. He could feel her moan into his mouth, a vibration that travelled down his spine and straight to his cock. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of her mouth as he continued to fuck Pansy's face, the dual sensations of Susan's soft lips and Pansy's hot mouth pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their chests heaving. Harry looked down at Pansy, who was still on her knees, her face a mess of tears and saliva. Her hand was between her legs, her fingers frantically rubbing her clit as she pleasured herself. With a loud, muffled cry, she came, her body trembling as her orgasm ripped through her. The feeling of her throat constricting around him as she came was all it took to send Harry over the edge. With a loud groan, he buried himself deep in her throat, his cock pulsing as he shot his load down her waiting throat.
Harry pulled his cock from Pansy's mouth, a thin strand of cum connecting the tip to her lips. Before he could even react, Susan was upon him, the buxom redhead all but tackling him to the ground with her tongue buried once more down his throat. Pulling back, the redhead sat up, straddling him with her knees on either side of his hips. With a look of pure hunger, Susan reached down and guided his still-hard cock to her entrance, not a word passing between either of them the entire time. Until, at least, the redhead allowed gravity to take back control, her hips falling flush against him as she impaled herself on his member.
She began to ride him, her hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm at first, before picking up speed. Her breasts bounced with every movement, her head thrown back in ecstasy as she took her pleasure from him. Harry groaned with her movements, his hands gripping her hips as he met her thrust for thrust, his cock buried deep inside her.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Harry grunted, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. "You feel incredible Sue.”
Susan could only moan in response, her cunt squelching loudly as she rode him harder. Her pussy was a hot, velvet vice around his cock, gripping him with every thrust. He could feel her juices coating his shaft, making each movement slick and smooth. She was a wild thing, her movements becoming more and more erratic as she chased her release.
"Yes! Yes! Just like that!" she cried out, her voice a ragged gasp. “Oh fuck! Your fucking stretching me open!”
Her moans were like music to his ears, a symphony of pleasure that spurred him on. He could feel her getting closer, her walls fluttering around him as her orgasm approached. He reached up, his hands finding her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. She cried out, her body convulsing as the new sensation sent her over the edge.
"Oh, fuck! I'm cumming! I'm fucking cumming!" she screamed, her body shaking as her orgasm washed over her.
Her pussy clamped down around him, her walls pulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. He could feel her juices flooding his cock, the sensation almost enough to make him cum himself. But he held back, wanting to prolong her pleasure as long as possible. He continued to thrust up into her, his hips moving in a steady rhythm as she rode out her orgasm. Finally, she collapsed against him, her body spent, her head resting on his chest.
Daphne and Pansy, having recovered from their own orgasms, crawled over to them. Susan turned, sluggishly, barely even reacting as Daphne’s lips found her own while Pansy helped her sit back up. Susan moaned, allowing herself to be pulled off of Harry’s cock while Harry himself stood.
Breaking the kiss, Susan, Daphne, and Pansy all knelt before him, their eyes eager and filled with anticipation as he stepped forward.
Harry positioned his cock at Susan's lips, and she immediately took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head as she began to suck him. Daphne and Pansy leaned in, their mouths finding his balls. They took one each, their tongues and lips working in tandem to pleasure him, sending jolts of electricity through his body. The sight of the three of them, their faces tilted up towards him, their mouths working on him, was enough to have his orgasm building within moments, a tidal wave of pleasure that was about to crash over him.
With a loud groan, he came, his cock pulsing as he shot his load all over their faces. Susan took the first few spurts in her mouth, before pulling back and letting the rest of his cum land on her face while more jets rained down upon Daphne and Pansy as well. In the end, all three girls knelt covered in cum as Harry stood over them.
“Fuck I needed that!” Susan sighed as she scooped a finger of cum from her face and popped it into her mouth. “You three were incredible.”
Beside her, Pansy snorted as she too began to clean herself up.
Confused, Susan shot the girl a questioning look. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Pansy shrugged. “It’s just cute that you think we’re done already,” she said with a pointed look forward.
Her brow furrowed, Susan turned back only to find herself knocked back onto the carpet with Daphne’s cunt hovering inches above her face.
“Shhh,” the blonde whispered. “Just be a good girl and open that pretty mouth, my sweet.”
Susan complied almost instantly, Daphne’s words having the unintended effect of making the redhead’s cunt quiver in delight. Just as the blonde’s pussy met her lips, Susan could feel her own legs being pried open before something thick and hard was sliding into her pussy.
If she weren’t so happy having her own freedom, Susan would admit that being a concubine didn’t seem so bad now that she’s had a taste…