This was inspired by Cher’s “Gypsy” song, and I thought you guys could do with a romantic adventure for once. This is my first one, so don’t be to harsh. And yes, I know about her weird obsession with memphis, but I thought that would be lame and changed the setting a bit.
Back to Jonathon and Dani – still stranded on Earth
When taken hostage by pirates I did not expect to find romance or love; but you can be easily surprised by what you find in some situations.
This is a story about a guy who regularly visits an adult private sex-club, and so he does tonight. But tonight he runs into his ex-girlfriend, her new boyfriend and their female friend. The guy somehow gets convinced to join them and gets dominated. This story contains forced male bi-sexual acts.
The Darkmoon Faire (part 1)This first part has no sex in it. So if you want to bitch, moan and complain, do so elsewhere.”Ahead of You, Down the Path,
A Majestic, Magical Faire!
Ignore the Darkened, Eerie Woods,
Ignore the Eyes That Blink and Stare,
Fun and Games and Wondrous Sights!
Music and Fireworks to Light Up the Night!
Do Not Stop! You’re Nearly There!
Behold, My Friend: THE DARKMOON FAIRE!”
Copyright – Blizzard Entertainment.
..::..Welcome, one and all, to the Darkmoon Faire! It’s a pleasure to serve you, and we hope it is your pleasure to be here! We offer mystical tents, challenging games of wit and strength, awe-striking performers and a sumptuous array of cakes, food and drink galore! Don’t forget to stop by our prize booths, we carry furry little critters, colorful balloons, toys, and more! Enjoy yourselves here, ladies and gentlemen. Remember, we only come by one week a month..
My name is Kara Hicks. But you might as well call me Shadow, because that’s what I always lived in: my sister’s shadow. She was always prettier, taller, more confident, and definitely stronger than me.
When we ran away to the Faire, she intstantly became a hit as the “Strongest Woman Alive” attraction. People went and fawned over her when she lifted a nearby kodo, or a big rock, or something stupid like that. Yeah, that was Keri, always soaking up the attention. And me, Kara, was left picking up pieces of trash from the Fairegoers.
Keri seemed negligent to my jealousy. Or maybe she purposefully ignored it. I don’t know, even now.
Why did we ‘run away’ to here, you ask? Well, let’s start with the beginning.
Keri and I are twins, and she’s older only by a minute. People don’t know unless we tell them, because we look nothing alike.
Keri has medium-length blonde hair and blue eyes, and a quirky – almost arrogant – smile and fair skin. She was always taller than me, and developed faster than I did in almost every way.
I have hair that’s completely black and green eyes, and pale skin. A little kid in the shade of her sister, I guess.
Our mother, a hunter, died just after my birth. As kids, my father never told me, but I think he wanted to say that it was my fault. He went into a depression and tried to substitue alcohol for the love he’d lost. So we basically had to survive on our own, in the large and (at the time) unfriendly city of Stormwind.
We begged for money from adventurers, some of whom would take pity and push a few dirtied silver coins into our equally grungy hands. Keri, only ten, even took up smithing for a while as an apprentice, but her mentor died abruptly and another quickly took his spot. So we tried fishing, tailoring, even resorted to stealing from wandering bakers. We survived off of little, and Keri and I both knew hunger and fear.
Meanwhile, our father leeched off of our earned (or stolen) money to buy himself more alcohol. Fights broke out often, usually resulting in Keri storming out of the house and me to try and repair what damage had been done. Drunk or not, he was still our father, and he had no reason to keep us living at his home. I was the only tie. And even that didn’t last long.
After years of this torment, when even I grown tired of the constant fighting, we left. Packed our things and deserted him. Finally free (and alone), we did our best to keep this a secret. We were only fourteen at the time; too young to be living alone. We’d be sent to the orphanage.
So we took refuge at the Lion’s Pride Inn, in a small town outside the city for a week or so. Or at least, that was the plan. We ended up staying much longer. Eventually, the innkeeper, Farley, began to notice something was wrong.
He called us over one early morning as we prepared to leave to earn the day’s food money.
“I noticed you girls are here without a parent. Are you alright?” He asked kindly. He was maybe in this thirties at this time, but seemed older from obvious hard work.
“Yes.” I responded lightly. “They’re just .. away.”
Lying had no consequence on me any longer. I could deliver them with a straight face.
Farley obviously didn’t believe me. “You know I am a trustworthy man, girls. If you want to tell me something…” he offered hesitantly.
“We’ll remember that. Thank you, mister Farley.” I replied, feeling a little broken inside. He wanted to help, and I really wanted to tell him everything. But Keri, standing next to me, intimidated me from speaking. She wouldn’t allow that. She had grown tougher than me and absolutely wouldn’t compromise our freedom.
Over the course of several months, Farley tried repeatedly to get information out of us. We gave him little to ponder on, but for the most part he tried hopelessly to solve our puzzle. When we came to him -finally – penniless no matter what we tried, he would let us stay for free until we had gotten a secure source of cash flow.
But I knew we were hurting the inn.
“Keri, please. Listen. We can’t keep going on like this, eating their food and staying here for free. This place hardly gets income as is.” All the adventurer’s money went to the taverns and merchants that yelled for attention within the city.
Keri glared at me. Blue eyes that had once been soft and scared as a child were now chips of hardened ice. “We have no other options. We can stay here ’till the place goes out of business. Then we move on. We have no choice.”
And I really couldn’t persuade her otherwise. So what choice did I have? And so one very quiet night, when she was deeply asleep, I ventured downstairs to where Farley was sitting by the enormous fireplace that was the only source of light so late.
“Hello, Kara. Can’t sleep? I could call for some honeyed milk..”
“No, thank you,” I declined politely. “I’d like to talk.”
Farley, looking interested, sat forward and beckoned me to a chair. I sat tentatively, watching the shadow of the flames on the table. I just couldn’t meet him eye to eye.
“What do you want to talk about, Kara?” He asked. I had thought about how to say this for a long time, memorized it in my mind, but it seemed so hard to say then.
“We.. can’t stay here anymore. It’s been the best place of my life, really, and I think you’re the greatest innkeeper in all of Azeroth.” I swallowed with difficulty and continued. “But I’m being torn apart by forcing you to let us stay free. I know very well the situation of the inn, and I won’t allow you to let us stay. Keri and I can’t afford to stay anyway. I thought I would just .. let you know.”
I tried to steel myself for this, but I really couldn’t help it. Tears began to well up in my eyes. Farley looked deep in thought before looking suddenly to the stairwell. I turned around to look.
Keri stood gripping the rail with tightly clenched hands, her face hardened, staring at me as though she were betrayed. Then she marched back up the wooden stairs and slammed the door to our room as loudly as she could. A few responding grunts by other patrons followed.
When I turned back around, Farley embraced me fiercly.
“I won’t try to stop you.” He said slowly. I nodded in thanks, wiping away the tears shamefully. “But I’ll leave you with one last favor.” He leaned away, his hands on the tops of my arms.
“Please, don’t..” I said. I didn’t need any more guilt to follow me as I left.
“No, really! I think this will help you on your way. The Darkmoon Faire is opening tomorrow just in the field beside the inn. If I ask for them to consider having you two as employees, I’m sure they’d accept. And pay isn’t a problem,” he said. The more he spoke the more I grew hopeful. This sounded like a better route to take than back to begging on the streets. “What do you say?”
I simply nodded, fervently, the tears now streaming down my cheeks. They fell to the table where they reflected the fire, instantly turning a rich amber color. Farley smiled and bade me goodnight.
—
That morning, I talked things over with Keri. While she still seemed a little put-off that I had gone to talk without her (as we typically did everything together), she also appeared to be just as excited as I was about this new prospect. We waited impatiently for the Faire to open, which was rather obvious. Loud horns and whistles blared from outside. Fireworks erupted. People yelled and called in several languages for their friends to hurry up. The sound of whinnying, snarling, squawking, wingbeats and hooves told us that the city folk had also arrived to see. Keri and I ran outside to see for ourselves.
What I expected was a Faire. What I saw was a portal. Quite literally, an enormous arc with orange spiraling magic inside. A couple small tents of purple and white stood beside it and a few Faire workers greeted people. Only two performers were present; they flung torches at each other, caught them and hurled them back in one enormous cooperative juggling show. I stood, mesmerized. I wondered what could possibly be in the portal.
“Hey, girls. Before you go..” Farley exited the inn in a rush. He handed us a folded letter with a red wax seal with the initials “GS” on it. “Show this to Silas Darkmoon once you’re inside. You’ll know who he is. Good luck.” I quickly hugged him, to show my thanks. I owed Farley more than anyone.
Keri looked at her feet the whole time. When Farley left she tugged me along and we set off to the Faire. People stepped inside the portal, disappearing with a flash. I held Keri’s hand and we stepped into the orange light together.
When I opened my eyes, I instantly thought something had gone wrong. A cool breeze passed over us, smelling of the sea and .. frying oil. This place was eerie.
Dark, leafless trees stretched high into an angry, cloudy sky. A luminescent bluish fog drifted endlessly just by the tops of the black branches. While the trees seemed dead, they were dotted with the occasional bush. Bright eyes blinked from the shadows as we walked forward, slowly, gripping each other’s hand tightly. Wasn’t this supposed to be a Faire?
I stepped over a twig, not wanting to make noise, only to walk straight into an enormous red arrow that read “Ahead of you, down the path.” Perhaps this was the road to the Faire. It was just.. themed. Along the way there were several more red arrows and pictures of things the Faire offered.
People passed on heavily armored warhorses, eager saber-toothed cats, elephants, even raptors that left deep gouging marks into the damp earth as though it were butter. These were the adventurers and heroes that everyone talked of. Keri and I didn’t like them, but we certainly didn’t despise them. We seemed like peasants compared to them in their glowing, enchanted armor.
As we walked down the path to the Faire, we saw that it was an island. One with respectable size, but maybe the perimeter was walkable in a half hour. The ash-colored dirt road led straight through the Faire. The attractions were all on each side.
We continued. The very first thing that caught our eyes was an .. eye. It was the center of the arch that led to the entrance of the Faire. It glowed the same orange as the portal and had a single slit as a pupil, much like the eye of a dragon in stories. It looked at us as we passed, looking up at it in marvel. More greeters called out to us pleasantly, each in a purple and green Darkmoon uniform. There was the orange eye in the middle.
Together we stood, stunned, at what lay before us. Mighty tents of striped of dark, rich purple and forest green stood tall with flags whipping from the tops. Smaller booths of similar color apparently were for games. The clang of bullets hitting targets, a canon firing, balloons popping and the splash of water frequently met our ears. The frying oil we scented before was more potent. Sugary sweets, cakes, and other baking foods, fresh fish, meat roasting over fires and candies being spun made my mouth water.
The carnies running the booths shouted out for customers to come and try their hand at their game. Merchants waved their wares, claiming them prizes for winning games. Some of the prizes included a handful of dangerous-looking fireworks, a woman clutching a turtle in one hand and a balloon in another, and pieces of armor. Somewhere else a man yelled out that a concert was starting soon.
“Kara, how are we going to find Silas? There’s so much to look through.” My sister craned her neck but was shoved aside by a passing troll. I’d never seen one before and we both stopped to look in wonder. His skin was a light blue, and he was rather lanky and thin. His hair was bright orange and spiked up vertically. Tusks rose out from under his lip.
“Rude,” she muttered as he continued on through the stream of patrons.
“Keri, can’t we play around a bit? I mean, Farley said the Faire would be here for a week, we have some time..”
Keri shook her head and I fell silent.
“Let’s find Silas and secure our jobs first. Then we can go.” She led me through the fair like a child. I could’ve passed for it – I was easily a foot shorter than she was.
And, actually, we didn’t even find him until I walked into him. When I said I was short, Silas was twice as short as that. He was a gnome, like we’d seen before. He was about the height of my knee. He wore a dark black and purple hat, which he lifted to see us better.
“Hello, ladies. I’m Silas Darkmoon. I hope you’re enjoying the Faire.” He bowed. I smiled and giggled a little. Behind him, a large Ogre came up threateningly and I blinked.
“Oh, don’t mind Burth, he won’t hurt anyone,” Silas said easily. Burgh crossed his arms, apparently waiting for us to finish. I nodded slowly, and Keri took the opportunity to give Mr. Darkmoon the letter. “Ah, so you’re here for business reasons?” He asked, taking the letter and opening it expertly.
“Not exactly,” I blurted. Keri nudged me, warning me to be quiet. When he looked back up at us he gave a sort of sad smile.
“Kara and Keri, I would be honored to have you two working here at the Faire. I hope you’ll enjoy it here as well – we’re all family.” He tucked the letter into his little jacket, pointed us in the direction we needed to go, and continued to walk down the road we’d just taken.
–(two months later)
When Farley said the Faire moved every week, he was right. Well, sort of. The island never moved, but the portal’s entrance did. The Faire went from Elwynn Forest, by our home, all the way across the continent to Orgrimmar, the city of the enemies of the Alliance. Of course the Faire was a sanctuary and no fighting was permitted (besides the Deathmatch, of course). If then moved to Shattrath City and onward until it came right back to Elwynn, once every month.
We moved with it, quickly becoming a part of their family. It took them no time at all to discover Keri’s obscene strength and turned her into her own attraction. Seeing as I had no discernible skills whatsoever, I remained a simple worker.
I gathered supplies, cleaned up the trash that was left on the grounds, lit up the torches and cleaned out the bones and blood from the Deathmatch. It was work, but it payed better than any job we’ve had before. Keri still earned more, though. If I had a break I would watch sometimes.
She would encourage onlookers to give her whatever heavy object they could find and bring it to her, and she’d lift it with apparent ease. She had audiences sometimes ranging to the dozens, or maybe just two, but they were always amazed. And then they moved on. But the satisfaction made Keri grow a little vain, and I think she knew it as well. The way she spoke to me changed.
“You really ought to find something useful to do with yourself,” she said one night as we shared dinner once the Faire had closed for the day. “I mean, you just sit there all day and watch the other performers.” She lazily dipped the end of a piece of bread into soup and ate it.
“I do not,” I replied indignantly, my own meal untouched. “You stand there kissing your arms in front of your stupid audience and lift up whatever crap they want to give you.”
She tore off another piece and dipped it into her soup, though this time she seemed a little more forceful. “I would watch it, if I were you,” she said coolly.
“Are you threatening me?” I hissed under my breath, trying not to draw attention to the table, even though there were only a couple other people around. For once I was tired of being the underdog.
“Yeah, I could be, if you don’t shut up.” She snapped, her eyes glittering as she looked at me.
“I don’t care, you conceited bitch..” That did it. She took her soup and threw the bowl at me. I smacked it away before I got too drenched, got up and left, tears starting again. I didn’t care if people saw this time. I walked, thoughts of vengeance and fury in my mind as my hands clenched and unclenched by my side.
I went to the farthest end of the Faire, where there were docks that led down to the shore were people liked to fish. However, I went instead to the Faire’s largest feature that also usually happened to be the emptiest -the zoo area. They were simply marked-off areas were the more unusual creatures of Azeroth called home. I went straight to the petting zoo to sit on a bench. There was a little boy riding a pony who quickly left once he saw me the way I looked.
I sat on the crooked wooden bench, crying among the miniature ponies and Khaz Modan rams. One furry white ram came up to me, bleating softly, tipping his head for treats.
“Go.. go away,” I said shakily. The ram backed up, still looking at me. “Turn ..around,” I commanded, unsure of whether it would listen this time. It didn’t move. “Turn around.”
It finally did, though it bleated again in displeasure. I grew excited. “Okay, come back.” It did so, coming between my knees and licking its lips for treats.
“Okay, alright.” I bought it a handful of grain from a nearby goblin-made dispenser and fed him. The ram stayed by my side happily. I wondered whether this ram was trained or not, because it just carried out what I asked it to do.
Right when I was testing to see whether it’d walk around on two legs, a small cough sounded behind me. I spun around, to see Silas standing behind the fence of the enclosure.
“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt, Kara. Please continue.” When I hesitated, he spoke again. “Sorry to just sneak up like that on you. But I saw you alone here, making Bitterhoof listen to you! I’ve never seen a trainer do that before.”
I rubbed my hand along the wide space of the ram’s forehead softly. “Oh. Well I guess I’m just good with rams,” I said, trying to cheer myself up. Silas smiled, but he seemed to be thinking.
“Would you mind trying it on Leo, in the lion enclosure? I’d like to see something.”
I nodded in consent, though I was (to say the least) nervous. When we left the petting zoo, Bitterhoof waited for me at the fence, bleating.
We passed an enormous gorilla, an enclosure with an eagle tending to her eggs and a large violet ostrich-like creature. Then the lion exhibit. The lions were ten times larger than the cats that the hunters had as companions, and those cats were up to my hip.
Silas introduced me. “Savannah is the female, King Leo the male, and those are the kittens.”
I bent down to one of the kittens as it wandered up to me, mewling. I smiled and wiggled my fingers at it, though not stupidly enough to do it closely. The mother, beside the dozing father, turned and picked the kitten up in her teeth, growling lowly at me. “Oh don’t be such a grump Savannah, Kara is a nice girl.”
I laughed nervously. Yeah, they’d think I’d be a nice snack. “Kara, see if you can get Leo to wake up,” Silas told me. I edged closer.
“Hey. Hey, Leo. Come in boy, wake up!” He opened one golden eye at me, then shut it and turned away to sleep. I was discouraged, but I didn’t want to let Silas down. “Leo. Wake up,” I said firmly like I did with Bitterhoof. Again, he didn’t move. Finally I thought of Leo rising up, opening his eyes and roaring to the whole Faire. The thought echoed for a moment in my head and when I opened my eyes, Leo had his jaws open in an enormous yawn.
Close enough to a roar, right?
He then lazily padded to the water bowl and lapped some of it up. I sat back, relieved.
Silas clapped. “I knew it! You have hunter blood in you, Kara, and I’d like to propose you with a new job here at the Faire.”
I nodded eagerly.
“How does animal caretaker and trainer sound to you?”
–(1 week later)
Fitting into the job was very easy. I suppose my sister got my dad’s brute strength as a warrior and I gained my mother’s taken with animals. Speaking of Keri, we’d apologized, but we still hadn’t gotten past icy conversations.
Things were going well that day, the Monday in early summer as I remembered it. People were talking about the summer festivals that were going to be held soon, and I listened in while I poured more food in for Crystal, the basilisk. A human paladin was discussing the events with a tall night elf male.
“Oh yeah, the loot from that boss would’ve been great if only we had split it up. Some dwarf snagged it and ran off!” The night elf was saying and the paladin laughed. They walked around the corner and spotted me just as I leaned over to pat the reptile on the head. I looked warily at them.
“Sorry to bother you, but could I ask where the Deathmatch is supposed to happen?” The paladin asked politely.
“Right there.” I pointed directly across from us to the largest tent of the Faire. A netted circle with a sand floor was all it took to have an all-out killing spree for these kinds of people. I turned back and continued to work.
“Go ahead, Dereon, I’ll be there in a sec,” the paladin whispered to his friend. I could obviously hear him, and he knew.
Smirking, the night elf, before my eyes shrunk into a lithe cat; a cheetah, and sprinted to the stage of the Deathmatch. Druids.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name. I’m Jarred.” He extended his hand. I wiped the remainders of the food off of my hands and shook it.
“My name is Kara, nice to meet you,” I murmured.
“A beautiful name. Do you work here? What do you do?”
I smiled half-heartedly, wondering why he wanted to even know. I was a nobody. A shadow in the tall tents of the Faire.
“Thank you. I do work here, I train and care for the animals here.” Without missing a beat, I called out for one of the elephants. “Say hi to Jarred!”
The mammoth animal extended its trunk and dipped a little on a front leg, mimicking a human bow. Jarred smiled, pleased, and applauded a little.
“That was great! Hey, you know, I was just about to grab some food. When’s your break?”
Jarred was asking me to eat with him? I’d barely met him, what did he want with me? I was too interested to decline.
“Right now is fine, all my work is done. I’ll come with,” I responded. He grinned.
“Great. I’ll meet you over there in a minute, okay?” He waved and began to walk in the direction of the food vendors.
I sprinted to the nearest mirror and frantically fixed up my hair, brushed the dirt off of my face and uniform and cleaned up the best I could. I then met Jarred at a table where he sat with two glasses of limeade and a large serving of funnel cake.
“Hey Kara!” He looked me over and smiled when I appeared. I enthusiastically sat down and engaged in conversation.
I feel like I clicked easily with Jarred. He was funny and kind, and seemed to truly bring out the best out of me. Like a turtle in the shell. He came back every day of the week and I took time off to spend with him. I guess it was weird, that I fell for him so fast. The other girls who worked at the Faire teased me gently about it. My sister ignored it completely, and, truthfully I didn’t even care. I liked Jarred, and I was sure he felt the same. If not, at least he was a good actor.
Each day of the week he took me to do something different in the Faire.
One day we sat on the dock and watched people catch fish. The next we played some of the Faire games I’d never tried before. And on the second to last day we sat together, shared a drink, and talked like before about his adventures, his life and mine, and my experiences of the Faire.
This was the last day the Faire would be in Elwynn for a whole month. I felt like I wanted him to stay. But he had places to go, and I couldn’t very well just abandon the Faire. But he promised me something exciting for the last day. He waited until night.
“What is it?” I asked repeatedly, giggling like I hadn’t for years. He just put a finger to my lips.
He had covered my eyes and led me down to the docks. I could tell by the lapping of water against the wood. But soon we were walking on sand. Was he leading me all the way to the shore by the forest?
Finally, his hands let go of mine.
“Okay, Kara. Open your eyes. We’re here.”
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‘Man that was intense’ I said to myself as I woke covered in sweat. Slowly consciousness crept into my sleep addled brain as I recalled the events of my slumber. It was her again, the short raven haired beauty that I had been lusting after in my dreams for weeks now, her name is Jamie, she is also my younger sister. Pulling the covers back I swung my legs off the bed and reached down to throw on a pair of boxers for the ritual morning trip to the bathroom.
As the shower was warming up I leaned over the sink just staring at myself in the mirror. That’s when I first noticed it, my eyes were green not their normal blue. As I stared in shock wondering what could have happened I watched as they turned back into the blue I have always known. Figuring it was still sleep fogging my brain I shook it off and dropped my boxers to the floor as I stepped into the shower. I stepped under the water feeling it was over me wishing I was anyone but me. Don’t get me wrong, I lived in a nice house with a great set of parents and my sister Jamie. I did pretty good in school, had friends and a fairly healthy social life, but it was how I looked I couldn’t stand. I was your typical run of the mill nothing special. At 5’9” 170 lbs I was just shy of being actually noticeable.
This is where my recent obsession has come in. Unlike me my younger sister Jamie got a double helping of looks. Just a month shy of turning 16 she stands a short 5’2” about 100 pounds even , long straight black hair that reaches halfway down her back. Her breasts as I found out later were a C cup and had been for about the last year now. Her stomach and legs were tight and toned from hours of cheerleading practice. Basically she was a vision of pure beauty, and the only girl that actually paid me any attention. Ever since it got hot enough to tan and I saw her in her new bikini this year I have barely been able to contain myself around her. Constantly excusing myself to go jerk off to her or sneaking around trying to get glimpses of her.
Even now in the shower as my dream comes back to me I feel my cock start to rise. Not wanting to waste a good erection and wanting to relive that dream I shut my eyes as my hand starts slowly stroking myself to full hardness. I go back to the dream, Julie underneath me, her legs folded up as I piston my cock into her hard and fast. I hear her moans telling me how big I am when I realize that in the dream its not really me fucking her, its me but a lot more muscled and with a bigger cock. As I think about watching myself enter my sister over and over again something feels different to me. I open my eyes and look down at myself and instead of the usual 5 inch skinny dick I see my hand wrapped around a 9 inch long 2 inch thick piece of meat jutting out from my body. My eyes widen in disbelief as my cock and my forearm are now the same size. Stuck in shock I hurriedly finish up my shower grab a towel and run back to my room.
Sitting on the edge of the bed thoughts of insanity run through my mind. Something is going on and I need to know what. With a deep breath I open my towel revealing the same small dick I’ve grown used to over the years. Now I’m lost. I must be losing my mind. Knowing what I saw and felt was real I decided to try and figure out what could possibly be going on. Since it was hard when I saw the difference maybe I had to be hard again to see the change. Being in such an excited state from two denied orgasms it was relatively easy to bring myself back to full hardness despite the nervousness of the situation. As my cock grew I was filled with excitement hoping for the best but after a few moments my cock was rigid and only the 5 inches I knew. Feeling slightly defeated I thought back to what was different and besides the obvious of not being in the shower anymore the only thing different was that at the time I was imagining myself with that same hard beast I had plowing into my sister. That scene coming back into my mind I started wanting that cock again. I started imagining it on my body jutting out. I looked down taking in my small cock wishing it to grow and before my eyes it started to. Slowly it gained in length and girth until I was back to being massive.
Over come with happiness at the possibilities for me now I stroked hard and fast while keeping my sister in my head. My orgasm was swift and powerful, as it hit rope after rope of cum shot out from my tip coating my chest in cum. As I squeezed the last of my cum out I fell back onto the bed in a daze and slipped into unconsciousness.
Waking back up for the second time that day I found myself in ridiculously high spirits. Who wouldn’t be?? I can change anything I want to physically about myself. Or at least maybe anything. I had to know my limits with this. Looking down at myself I needed to get cleaned up. Seeing what time it was I knew my sister had already left for practice and she wouldn’t be back until late that night, I didn’t even bother getting dressed. I went back to the bathroom and wet a washcloth to wipe myself down from the earlier orgasm.
While wiping myself down I looked into the mirror and started to play around. I started with my eye color again changing it from one color to the next finally deciding on brown. I then moved to my nose and just for shits and giggles I made it long and pointy like Pinocchio. Finally cleaned up I left my face the new way and walked back into my room closing my door. In my excitement I didn’t realize that my door didn’t completely shut. Now standing in front of my full length mirror I couldn’t help but laugh as I saw this ridiculous nose jutting out from my face.
Knowing that I basically had a do over at my disposal I started on becoming the way I always wanted to look. Adding a couple inches in height I was now 6 foot even. I set to work on my frame bulking me up a little bit and defining my muscles that would take months in a gym to achieve. Once happy with that I started on my face, not changing anything major just a little tweak here and there until I was happy. I enlarged my balls a little bit to match that of the destroyer now hanging limp between my legs. Once finished I memorized every inch of what I changed tweaking what needed it and leaving alone what was perfect. Taking a full look at myself I couldn’t have been happier. Looking like this there was no way girls would keep ignoring me. I would finally get laid.
Filing away what I wanted to look like I started playing around. Making myself fat and skinny, super tall and tiny like a midget. I added muscles and hair, took them away basically being absolutely ridiculous with my new found ability. Returning back to the new me I stood just admiring myself when all of a sudden it hit me. If I could change into anything why couldn’t I change into a chick. The thoughts of my possibilities started to excite me, bringing my impressive cock to life. I started off just seeing if I could do it. My chest losing its muscle as it started to expand out ending up with a pair of firm large breasts. Not being able to choose between the mirror and looking down I kept glancing back and forth as my hands came up to feel my first breast. My hands reaching their goal sent all the air out of my lungs and I fell back onto the bed slowly caressing my new toys. My nipples now even more sensitive began to harden under the movements of my hands. My cock was so hard it was actually beginning to hurt as I pinched down on my nipples causing an involuntary moan to escape my throat. Leaving one hand to play with my breasts I moved my other down and slowly began stroking my cock imagining it was my sisters breasts I was playing with. Getting so into it I started moaning her name which in turn brought me immediately to orgasm my cock exploding and sending my cum shooting out right onto my breasts.
As I lay there in my after glow I started picturing my sister in my head. I closed my eyes forming a complete picture of Jamie in my head. I pulled on every memory I had of her forming a complete image of her in my head. Keeping my eyes shut I imagined her and pushed that image of her onto my body. I could feel things moving and changing and when it all stopped with eyes still shut I stood up. Slowly I opened my eyes and staring back at me in the mirror was my sister.
So stunned at this, all I could do was stare as I turned around and bent over trying to see everything I could. Finally I let my hands do what my eyes were doing. I laid back on the bed closing my eyes and just ran my hands over every inch of my sisters body. Going straight to my breasts I started caressing and squeezing finally getting the prize I had been aching for. Under the ministrations of my fingers I could feel my nipples harden, moving down to them I gave them a pull when I felt a wet heat coming from between my legs. Going into very unknown territory I slid one hand down my stomach and in between my legs. I could immediately feel heat emanating from my folds. Gingerly I began exploring lightly playing with the area rubbing my fingers up and down coating them in the juice of my excitement. My breaths were now beginning to come in deeper and more ragged as my excitement grew finally resulting in a loud moan as my probing fingers found my clit.
Now feeling flushed and more turned on in a new way than I have even experienced I began to rub my fingers in circles over my clit, going faster and faster until I couldn’t even breathe. The only option my brain gave me was to keep rubbing. And that’s when it hit. My entire body being sent into spasms I twisted around as the most intense orgasm I have ever felt washed over me. With one final wave of ecstasy washing over me blackness edged in.
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When i was 13 i knew i was gay , i spent all my ime looking at porn and i was always craving a guy but at that age no one is out of the closet, so i was always very horny and would do anything for contact with a guy
A sailing trip with first gay play turns into a sexual exploration for a few friends.
Aaron becomes Hedone’s fuck toy
What happens when there are 4 men and only 1 woman marooned on a deserted island?
Still no ending yet, but more of the story… I got an idea, but two more chapters, methinks
The Cheerleader Roast
Story: #10
Copyright ©2005
Written: January 3 2005
A story By: KaosAngel
Proofed By: PiasaBird2004
Please send any comments about this story to([email protected])
*********************************************************************
Part 4 of 4 – The Survivors
After the brutal and senseless slaughter of Jessica, Stacey, Lina, Sophie and Sara the football team was now totally tired out and could be found lying on the ground or table where ever they were standing or sitting when they collapsed from partying too much. One guy was even lying inside the barbeque pit, but it was quite cold now.
The bones of 3 innocent young cheerleaders now litter the ground, Sophie’s body still dangling from the tree limb she was hung from, Sara’s body still nailed to the trunk of that old oak tree, blood everywhere. Molly and Samantha the last 2 members of the cheerleading squad, still lying in the dirt, tied and cant move, playing for a miracle.
There prayers were answered as swarms of lights could be seen and sirens wailed in the distance getting closer, hearing the oncoming noise James woke up as did the rest of the football team knowing exactly what was coming for them James and his friend began filling there cars and trucks in an attempt to escape, completely surrounded there was no escape to be had.
Looking up toward the man approaching them Molly and Samantha breath a sigh of relief, they were saved. Looking down to the dirt covered young girl lying in front of him “I am agent Smith the director of the state female alternative meat program, I am here to help” picking the bound helpless girl from the ground Smith then began cutting the girls free of there bindings, throwing a warm blanket over each and helping them in to the back of his van to rest.
Safe in the back of Smith’s van the young former cheerleaders for the first time this long cold night fell asleep in each others arms, arriving at there destination neither one of the young girls would have expected to wake up and find themselves at the gates to the state female alternative meat processing plant, looking up on top of the big gate as they passed Molly and Samantha could see the large sign “State Alternative Meat Processing Plant, Girl-Cow delivery entrance” both girl’s look at each other they knew that no girl ever leaves this plant except as steaks.
Inside the plant the van cam to a stop, the doors opened to reveal agent Smith who was not alone several armed guards were at his side, “this way girl’s time to get you cleaned up for processing” he said with a smile as he pointed to a door that had a sign above it “Clean Room” entering the clean room Molly and Samantha saw other girl-cow’s waiting to be cleaned up and sent to processing.
Upon reaching the center of the room both Molly and Samantha were grabbed by assistants who then cleaned every inch of there meaty body’s and pushed them toward a set of double doors the sign above read “Binding Room” entering the room the girl’s could see many other girl-cow’s standing in rows with there hands bound tight behind there back’s, Molly tried to ask the assistant in this room “why are we being tied again?” the only answer given was a bright red ball gag shoved in to her mouth, her arms were then pulled tight behind her back and hands tight at the wrist, the same was done to Samantha and then they were sent on there way though the next set of double door’s. Above these doors the sign read “Grading Room”.
Upon entering the room, once again girl’s could be seen standing in rows as state meat inspectors inspected them and graded them according to age, height, weight and condition, when it was finally Molly and Samantha’s turn to be graded the inspected walked over and grabbed Molly hard forcing her to bend over causing her pussy to be revealed from behind, with a gloved hand he began sticking his fingers into Molly’s pussy judging thickness and quality of her cunt steak, the same was done to Samantha, after writing all their information on his clipboard Molly and Samantha were lead to another set of double doors sigh above read “Orientation Room”.
Entering the room agent Smith came over and guided Molly and Samantha to two empty seat’s and sat them down, removed the ball gag’s and began to speak “ok girl’s your almost ready this is the last stop before processing, any question’s?” he asked as he sat on a chair in front of them “ya I have one, why the hell have you brought us here, its not our time to be processed” she asked waiting for his answer. Looking in to her eye’s “true, but when you were held, tied up and lying in the dirt while your friend’s were slaughtered illegally you meat ratings changed” looking to the clipboard “from your original rating of grade A, 4 star prime, to grade B choice, which is still good but this rating change force’s us to process you now instead of the normal, lottery”.
Hearing this Molly stood “ohh so because of a pack of asshole’s your telling us we have to become dog food!!” a guard quickly runs over and forces Molly back into her seat “not exactly, your meat wont be used for dog food, grade B is still a good grade, you will be butchered up here in little less then half an hour and sent to meat markets all over the country, your meat will be lying in supermarket meat displays by morning” he replied, “I don’t understand sir, why?, we have done nothing wrong!” Samantha asked from tear soaked eyes.
Standing up, “I know and it is unfair but the state alternative meat regulations say any rating change from grade A’s are to be processed immediately, my hands are tied tighter then yours are right now, I am very sorry” he said as he began to walk toward a door with a sigh above it reading “Visitor’s Room, Balcony Level” just before opening this door he turns “if it makes you feel any better your family’s are here in the visitor’s room to watch your slaughter” he could see that somehow this did not make them feel any better and left the room.
Molly and Samantha were then lead to a set of double door’s across from the visitor’s room door the sign read “Slaughter House” entering the room the girl’s were horrified at what they saw, of course they had seen lots of processing center’s when they had attended high school field trips, but they had never allowed the students to go this deep inside, this close to the hanging meat-cow’s that could no longer be called human, walking toward the center of the room there feet turning red from the blood soaked floor, blood droplets falling onto them from the over head decapitated side’s of meat on there way to the cooling room.
Looking up toward the balcony level both girls could see there mom’s hugging the glass crying shouting things like “NO, please! NO” at the center of the room the girls could see the large guillotine that would soon cut off bother their heads to add there lifeless body’s to the row of hanging overhead side’s of meat. After reaching the guillotine Samantha began to cry, she was taken first and her head placed in the block, she tried to struggle but couldn’t free herself she began begging anyone who would listen not to kill her “Please don’t do this to me!!” she yelled a young man knelt down beside her began to talk to her “No on here care’s about you we are just doing our job’s, your just another nameless girl-cow to be slaughtered to us, now hold still this will only sting for a second” he said as he released the rope that allowed the blade to fall quickly cutting her head from her body.
Molly screamed and then fainted as the young man placed a sharp hook into each of Samantha’s feet and punched the button that slowly pulled her up to join the rest of the slaughtered girl-cows, not bothering to wake Molly up the young man picked her up and placed her head in the block of the guillotine “you sleep its better this way” he whispered in to her ear as he once again released the rope that caused the blade to fall quickly cutting off her head as fast as it had cut off Samantha’s, like before he took a sharp hook and placed one in each of Molly’s feet and pushed the button that placed her lifeless, headless body along side the others right behind her friend, as they both moved toward a large window with a sigh above it “Cooling Room”.
The next day, “Under article 14 of the state alternative meat program law’s, the 9 of you standing here are charged with 5 count’s of illegal appropriation and process of state registered girl-cow’s, how do you pled?” the judge spoke looking down from high above them. “With the overwhelming amount of evidence, my clients have no choice but to plead guilty your honor” the public defender answered while standing before the judge.
Picking up his gavel, the judge then said “I sentence you all to the maximum of 10 years per count in the state maximum security prison, I further order every state registered girl-cow in each of your family’s to report to the state’s alternative meat processing plant for processing no later then noon tomorrow” he said as he slammed the gavel down and the 9 defendants were taken away.
THE END
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Cindy and I have fun with another couple.
Read it through!
My divorced mother gives me a lesson in love
A joke for the ppl who never heard it before.
Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty-Five: Dim-witted Theories and Troubles Abound
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Twenty-Five: The Talk of the Castle.
The next night, Harry and Hermione were alone in their Head Students’ quarters, reading quietly. Harry was going over his notes for Transfiguration, while Hermione read from their ‘special book.’ Every once in a while, the brunette witch had to readjust the squashy pillow she was using as a seat cushion. Despite a heaping dosage of Bruise Be Gone ointment and ample massaging from Harry, her bottom was still quite red and sore from the previous night’s spankings. Harry would’ve felt bad over Hermione’s discomfort, if the witch didn’t have a persistent satisfied grin etched on her face. She definitely was one kinky woman.
A soft knocking drew the teens’ attention to the door. Harry set his notes aside and went to see who was calling. The wizard was surprised to see Ginny, who had obviously been crying quite a bit judging by her red and puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, standing in the hallway.
“Am I… am I interrupting?” she asked meekly and sniffled.
Genuinely concerned over Ginny’s condition, Harry ushered her in.
“Ginny, are you alright?” Hermione asked from the couch.
“No,” the red head sniffled again.
Hermione patted a spot close to her on the couch, indicating that Ginny should sit next to her. But instead of sitting, Ginny dove and threw her arms around Hermione’s neck. The younger witch openly sobbed into Hermione’s shoulder.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” cooed Hermione and she began rubbing the red head’s back. Harry joined the witches on the couch and placed a comforting hand on Ginny’s shoulder.
After a few minutes, Ginny calmed. Hiccupping, the red head pulled away from Hermione and leaned against the back of the couch.
“I’m in so much trouble,” the young witch bemoaned.
“Why? What happened, Ginny?” asked Harry. The red head’s lip quivered pathetically and Harry reassured “You can tell us, we’re your friends.”
“And Harry’s practically a brother, to boot,” Hermione said while looking directly at Harry, her eyes sparkling mischievously. Harry rolled his eyes; he couldn’t believe that his lover was asking for another paddling.
“I’m pregnant,” Ginny cried as her tears splashed down her face.
“Oh, Ginny,” Hermione said mournfully, her mischievous sparkle disappearing instantly.
Harry just put his arm around Ginny’s shoulders. He wanted to say something comforting, but the only thing he could think of to say was “I’ll miss you after your mum murders you,” but that was tactless so he kept quiet.
“Didn’t you use protection?” asked Hermione.
“Yes, all the time. I’ve always used the Inaedifico Charm,” Ginny said between sobs.
“What’s the Inaedifico Charm?” Harry asked Hermione over Ginny’s head.
“It’s a semen repellant,” the brunette explained. “It’s a spell that creates a barrier. Basically a witch uses the charm to keep any semen from reaching the cervix and therefore the womb. It’s very effective and simple to do. And it lasts three weeks with each casting. That’s why I use it.
“Are you sure you didn’t forget to recast it?” Hermione asked the crying witch.
“No, to be safe I recast it every two weeks,” she answered. “It’s Neville, he’s too big.”
“Honey, the size of Neville’s penis doesn’t mean he’s extra fertile,” Hermione said. “Besides, it doesn’t matter how fertile the wizard is, the Inaedifico Charm would work. It’s a very reliable contraceptive.”
“I know that. I’m talking about Neville’s length,” Ginny said, wiping away the tears from her eyes. “He’s so big, he bypasses the charm. The head of his willy actually pushes through my cervix. When we have sex, he cums right in my womb.”
“Pushes through your cervix?” Hermione echoed; her face a mixture of surprise and anguish. “Ow.”
“Oh, you get used to it after four or five times,” dismissed Ginny.
“Ow,” repeated Hermione. She had her hands clutched on the lower part of her belly in phantom pain. “Ow.”
“I need help,” implored Ginny. “What am I supposed to do? I’m scared.”
“Does Neville know?” asked Harry.
“No,” the red head said.
“And your parents don’t know?” Hermione asked.
“Of course not,” Ginny replied. “Do you think I’m mad? What should I do?”
“Well, Neville needs to know,” stated Harry. He imagined that if he were in Neville’s shoes, he’d want to know.
“And your parents should be told as well” added Hermione.
“You’re mad!” Ginny said, staring with terror filled eyes at Hermione. “Sure, I’ll tell Nev. But my parents? You’re barmy to think I’m going to tell my folks.”
“Ginny, they’re going to find out sooner or later,” Hermione explained. “I think it’ll be for the best if it’s sooner rather than later.”
Ginny turned the wizard and with a pleading expression, she begged “Harry, you’ll tell them for me, won’t you?”
“You think I’m suicidal or something?” he asked. “Because the moment I say the words ‘Ginny’s pregnant’ they’ll kill me.”
“But you’re not the father, they won’t get mad at you,” the red head pointed out.
“Won’t matter,” argued Harry. “All they’ll see is a bloke saying something about their princess being knocked up and they’ll kill me. I imagine it’s like an automatic response for parents.”
“But they love you,” Ginny urged.
“No, I’m with Harry on this. Either you by yourself or with Neville should tell your parents,” Hermione stated. She then added under her breath, “Cervix – ow!’
“Oh, God,” Ginny cried into her hands. “I’m dead! I’m dead! I’m dead!”
“Don’t be so melodramatic, Gin-Gin,” Harry said in a calm and soothing voice. “Sure your folks’ll be mad, at first. But you’re their little girl and they love you. Hell, it’s obvious they love babies too, otherwise they wouldn’t have had so many.” With this point, Ginny’s head snapped up and she looked at Harry as if he was brilliant. Encouraged by Ginny’s expression, Harry forged ahead. “I’m sure that once the baby is born, your mum and dad will forget all about this. They’d probably love the idea about being grandparents once they hold the little tyke for the first time.”
“You’re right Harry,” Ginny cheered with a genuine smile. “I’ll hide my pregnancy! And after I give birth, I’ll surprise Mum and Dad with the baby!”
“That’s not what I said,” Harry shot back.
“It won’t work,” added Hermione.
“Yes it will!” Ginny said gleefully. “I’ll just use some glamour charms to hide any bumps or whatnot and my parents will be none the wiser.”
“Ginny, please stop and think about this,” prayed Hermione.
“It’s brilliant,” Ginny said with sparkling eyes and a dazzling smile. “And once the baby is born, I’ll show it to Mum and Dad and they’ll love it just like you said, Harry!”
The red head bounced up from the couch and twirled happily as Harry tried to defend himself. “But I didn’t…”
“Thanks Harry, you’re a lifesaver!” Ginny congratulated before prancing out of the Head Boy and Girl’s chamber.
“Oh, this will not end well,” Hermione breathed out.
“Somehow, I think this will come back and bite me on the arse,” Harry pondered.
*
The next day at lunch, Harry, Hermione, and Ron leaned in close to Luna, as she was telling the trio the latest odd happening in the castle:
“Dennis Creevey is with Padma Patil?” Harry asked disbelievingly. “I thought he was gay.”
“No, his brother is the one who’s gay,” corrected Luna. “Dennis was just helping Colin hook up with you, which is a very lovely thing to do for one’s own sibling.”
“How did a bloke like Dennis get together with Padma?” inquired Ron as he wolfed down another helping of shepherd’s pie. “I mean he’s three years younger than her. And she’s hot while he’s goofy looking.”
“I saw it with my own two eyes,” Luna said conversationally. “They were both getting dress as they stumbled out into the hallway. They saw me, giggled and kissed rather passionately before going their separate ways.”
“Maybe it was something else,” Hermione offered. She too had trouble wrapping her mind around the concept of Dennis and Padma together. “Maybe she was giving him a tutoring session and the kiss was innocent.”
“Possible, but I doubt it. It was a tongue kiss, after all. Pink organs fighting for dominance in one another’s mouth, and all that,” explained Luna. “And when I said that they were getting dressed, I meant that Padma’s left breast was exposed. She has lovely skin by the way; blemish-free and very soft looking. And as they parted, Padma gave Dennis’ groin a good squeeze. He still had an erection; I could see the outline of his crown and shaft pressing against the fabric of his trousers. Oh, he also smelled like sex when he passed me. But maybe you’re right and it was innocent.”
“Maybe it was a very good tutoring session,” Harry feebly defended Hermione’s speculation.
“Oh, and speaking about sex, Ronald and I finally broke our dry spell,” Luna said happily.
“You had a dry spell?” Harry asked… and instantly regretted it. The blonde witch had a tendency to be a little too open about such topics.
“Yes, ever since Snape’s admission of masturbating constantly,” Luna paused and shivered in disgust. “Please don’t misunderstand; I happen to think masturbation is a lovely act. Just last week, I watched Ronald pleasure himself for me.”
“Luna, they don’t need to know,” Ron said in embarrassment.
“It was a beautiful and loving moment,” Luna continued despite Ron’s objections. “But Snape is nothing more than a disgusting and foul man. The mere idea of him having sex, even a solo act, is just as disgusting as the greasy git himself. That excuse for a man defiled a beautiful deed for me with his hateful tale.”
Harry did his best to try and block any unwanted images of Snape out of his mind.
“So for the past few days I haven’t been able to even think about sex,” Luna said. “Every time I tried to be intimate with my husband, I could only see an image of that foul man with his penis in his hand. Drooling while abusing himself like some deranged madman.”
Harry eyed the fork in his hand and pondered over the notion of jabbing the utensil into his eye and shoving it into his brain. He was beginning to warm up to the idea that he could use the fork to lobotomize himself in order to remove the image that Luna had just created.
“But last night, I was finally able to overcome the horror that Snape had created, and my Ronald and I made love,” Luna beamed at her husband. “First he took me on the couch, then the bed, and a desk. And then I was able to fulfill Ronald’s heartfelt wishes.”
The blonde witch held up her fore and middle fingers and wriggled them proudly.
“Oh, look at the time, class is starting,” Hermione said and shot up, clearly disturbed by what Luna was describing. She grabbed Harry, who was beyond shocked at Luna’s gesture, by the hand and dragged him out of the seat.
“Lessons don’t start for another quarter hour, Hermione,” said Luna while still wriggling her fingers like two burrowing worms. At this moment, Ron had his face hidden behind his hands, deeply embarrassed. Harry meanwhile was still clutching the fork and seriously debating the lobotomy option.
“Well, then we… uh…it’s Head Boy and Girl stuff,” Hermione said nervously. “Harry and I have to do… things,” she finished lamely and dashed out of the Great Hall with Harry in tow.
*
By dinner that evening, the news of Dennis’ and Padma’s relationship had spread like wildfire. Not that Harry, Hermione, Ron, or Luna had talked about it, which they didn’t. It was the fact that Dennis had gone down on Padma after lessons were done for the day. Of course what made it widely known was that the two did this by the lake where they had attracted a good sized crowd that allegedly cheered the couple on.
Now that their relationship wasn’t a secret (nor had they apparently wanted it to remain a secret seeing the public sex and all), Padma and Dennis sat next to each other, feeding each other bits of food as they looked longingly into their partner’s eyes.
Then, something occurred to Harry, as he looked over the students gathered in the Great Hall. He noticed that a number of the student body were paired up, much more so than usual. Dean Thomas was with Mandy Brocklehurst. Tracy Davis was in Terry Boot’s lap. Megan Jones was kissing Theodore Nott. And dozens of other couples were scattered through the Hall.
Harry eyed his pumpkin juice. Had someone spiked it with a love potion or something? He was suddenly scared; Harry had stopped checking his own meals once the more aggressive House Elf sect had stopped punishing him with platefuls of steaming excrement for his sin of “deflowering the Great One.” However given the widespread impact, a love potion was the only feasible reason he could come up with to explain this current “love fest” that was gripping Hogwarts.
“Hey guys,” Ginny said as she walked into the Great Hall. She was supporting Neville who had just looked like he had thrown up several times. He was deathly pale and his eyes where wide and blank.
“What’s with Neville?” Ron asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Ginny said with a nervous dismissal. The red head witch looked at Harry and Hermione and slipped them a note. “C’mon sweetie, lets get you some food,” Ginny said to Neville and led him down to an empty spot.
Harry unfolded the note and held it so that only he and Hermione could read it. It read:
“I just told him. I think he’s taking it rather well.”
Harry looked down the table at Neville. The wizard looked close to fainting. If Ginny considered that “taking it rather well’ he wondered what Ginny considered taking it poorly.
“I still think Expelliarmus can defeat You Know Who,” Ron offered suddenly, pulling Harry away from his thoughts regarding love potions and accidental pregnancies (which, between Ginny and Tonks, had been happening quite a bit lately).
“Not again, Ron,” moaned Hermione.
“No, no, hear me out,” persisted Ron. “I’m not talking about a normal Expelliarmus, but one cast from a super wand.”
Harry looked to his girlfriend and asked, “Is there such a thing as a super wand?”
She shrugged and answered, “We just turned a bit of string into a pterodactyl in our last class, so I guess anything is possible.”
“Yes, they are true. I’ve heard that Dumbledore had one,” Ron stated. “How else do you think he was able to do such wonderful stuff? Because he had a super wand, that’s how!”
“Actually, I think he could do those things because he was talented and studied hard,” Hermione challenged.
Harry saw Ron lean forward with his face beginning to turn an angry red and Hermione was copying his actions. The two were evidently ready for yet another heated argument.
“Okay, let’s just say Dumbledore had a super wand,” Harry speculated, trying to stem the fight that was about to ensue between Ron and Hermione. “How did he get it?”
“Easy; when he beat Grindelwald,” Ron answered in a haughty tone, as if he was proud that he knew something Hermione didn’t. “Grindelwald’s wand was called the Senior Wand, or something like that, and when Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald back in ‘45, the wand was passed to Dumbledore.”
“Um that really doesn’t make sense, Ron,” Harry said in as kind of way as possible as to not anger his excitable friend. “Back in fifth year, when we took our OWLs, we met someone who tested Dumbledore in his NEWTs when the Headmaster was a student. He said that Dumbledore was able to do wondrous things that he had ever seen. And that would have been decades before he defeated Grindelwald. Which means that Hermione was right, Dumbledore didn’t have a super wand, he was just skilled and talented.”
“Yeah, he may have wowed that bloke, but I heard Dumbledore got a super wand off of Grindelwald and that’s why he was so powerful,” Ron insisted. Knowing that Ron would not stop until he was finished, even if his reasoning and logic were flawed, Harry let his friend continue.
“I also heard that when you defeat someone and disarm them that they can no longer use their own wand because it belongs to you now,” Ron continued with his wild theory. Harry could feel Hermione about to protest, but he squeezed her hand, urging her to let Ron say his peace. “And that’s what happened with the Senior Wand; Dumbledore was able to beat Grindelwald thereby rendering the super wand useless to Grindelwald and making it his own.”
“So what you’re saying is that I should dig up Dumbledore and snatch his wand, this Senior Wand?” Harry asked tentatively.
“Yes, but first you’d have to duel and defeat Draco,” Ron clarified… if one could call it clarification.
“Why Draco?” asked Harry. And trying his best to lower himself to Ron’s argument, the raven haired wizard countered, “Why not Snape? He was the one who killed Dumbledore.”
“You see, that’s where you misunderstand the logic of it all,” Ron said with a superior grin. Harry had to bite his tongue and not say something about howler monkeys and logic. “Snape killed Dumbledore in order to save Draco from becoming a murderer. Therefore, Draco was the one who defeated Dumbledore, not Snape.”
Harry felt the tinge of an approaching migraine forming in his frontal lobe. He heard Hermione begin to mutter a question, but the brunette was so confused by Ron’s train of thought that all she was able to enunciate was “Wha?”
“So, let’s just march over to Malfoy, whoop his arse, then fetch the Senior Wand and you’ll be unstoppable Harry,” Ron concluded, seeming as if he was congratulating himself for a splendid argument.
“Ron, your theory is flawed in one area,” began Hermione, recovering from her befuddlement.
“And what area is that?” the red head asked confident that he could challenge Hermione.
“It’s stupid,” she concluded.
“What do you mean it’s stupid?” Ron demanded with annoyance.
“If a person’s wand is rendered useless when he is defeated, how was Snape able to kill Dumbledore? You, Harry, and I beat Snape in our third year; we knocked him out and disarmed him. So by your logic, his wand has been useless to him since then,” explained Hermione. “Therefore Snape couldn’t have used his wand to kill Dumbledore because he wouldn’t have been able to use it seeing that it is ours by right of conquest.”
“Also, your theory about the secession of the Senior Wand doesn’t work either,” Harry added in a compassionate way.
“How is that?” Ron asked with a frown.
“Well, you say that Draco is the current possessor of the Senior Wand because Snape killed Dumbledore in order to save the wanker,” Harry summarized. “But Snape was acting on Dumbledore’s direct orders; not only to save Malfoy from becoming a murderer but to end his own suffering. And since Snape was acting on Dumbledore’s orders, the greasy git was, in effect, Dumbledore’s tool. The idea of succession through defeat can’t apply here. Dumbledore was basically committing suicide, using the situation to try to redeem Malfoy for some reason and end his own suffering. Therefore he basically defeated himself. Not Snape and definitely not Malfoy.”
Luna placed a comforting hand on Ron’s shoulder and said soothingly, “Ronald, my love, next time you have one of these ideas, run it by me first so that you don’t sound like a fool, okay?”
Just as Ron nodded his head in compliance, another group of people walked up to Harry. This time it was Seamus Finnegan and he had one arm draped over Lavender Brown and the other around Parvati Patil. All three looked extremely pleased and each had a glistening sheen to their skin.
“Tanks, Har-ee, ‘or tha bes’,” Seamus slurred. He sounded as if his tongue had gone numb and was having difficulty speaking clearly. Despite this handicap, Seamus was grinning wildly. “Ree-min’ ‘e ta by ‘ou ah pressen’.”
With that, Lavender and Parvati giggled like school-girls – which, technically, they were – and dragged Seamus out of the Great Hall. Before they got too far, Harry heard the two witches interact:
“I get the top, you get the bottom.”
“But you got the top first last time. I want to go first.”
Hermione picked up her goblet and eyed the liquid contents “Did someone spike the pumpkin juice?” she asked, mirroring Harry’s earlier thought.
*
That night, in the safety of their chamber, where none of the weird activity of their peers could interrupt them, Harry and Hermione were again reading. Harry read a book on Quidditch while Hermione continued to read the Tantric rituals book. The bespectacled wizard liked it when Hermione read the ‘special book,’ as it usually meant they were going to try something exciting.
“This is a very interesting ritual,” Hermione commented as she read over a small section in Harry’s ‘special book.’
“What does it do?” the raven haired wizards asked, not looking up from his homework. He was trying not to lose his cool over the idea that Hermione had just found an interesting segment. What he wanted to do was shout “Let’s perform the ritual!” not really caring what it did, but that would make him look desperate. And a touch sad.
“It’s called the ‘Morgy Ritual.’ It can cause pain through magical connections, such as the Dark Mark,” Hermione summarized. “All we have to do is draw this channeling symbol, and then either write down the name of the magical connection, or draw a symbol of that connection, and then have sex.”
“So basically we’d draw the Dark Mark, indicating our targets are Death Eaters, and then have sex,” Harry recapped.
“Yes,” Hermione agreed. She continued to explain the ritual; “If we perform the ritual with ‘mild intensity’ it will cause the targets to feel a slight pain, something like a bad itch. But a heightened intensity will cause the targets incredible pain; akin to the sensation of being on fire.”
“So a tussle in the sack will make everyone baring the Dark Mark feel pain?” asked Harry.
“Yes.”
“And the more intense the sex, the more pain the Death Eaters will feel?”
“Um,” she paused and quickly rechecked the text. “Yes.”
“Well then, Miss Granger, prepare for several screaming orgasms,” Harry said and tugged his robes off in a manly fashion. In the process, the wizard managed to tear the clasp off of his robes. He would have to use a Stitching Charm to reattach it later. But at least the action looked manly.
A rosy bloom graced the witch’s cheeks in anticipation. Deftly, Hermione flicked the clasp on her robes open. Unlike Harry, she didn’t tear anything, meaning she wouldn’t have to waste her time sewing things like he would.
“Just how many screaming orgasms?” she asked while slowly unbuttoning her blouse.
“As many as it takes,” he replied and lowered his trousers. “This is for justice after all. Dealing out punishment to the wicked and whatnot is my duty.”
“Did you say ‘punishment to the wicked’?” Hermione asked coyly while still undoing her top. “Because my bottom is still a little sore. And even though I am ‘wicked’ and I like ‘punishment’ I think we should wait a while for another spanking.”
“Gotcha, no spankings,” Harry said and he began rapidly unbuttoning his shirt. He had decided not to do the manly thing and tear it open; he really didn’t like sewing. “I’ll just stick to using my parsletongue abilities.”
Harry dropped his underwear and stepped out of them while Hermione slowly opened her blouse. ‘Harry, Jr.’ grumbled about fair-play; here was Harry, completely naked, and Hermione still had her skirt and bra on. And, added to the penis’ ire, the ‘special book,’ lovely and wonderful as it was, was still on her lap. That meant it was blocking one of ‘Harry, Jr.’’s favorite entrances, damn it! Ignoring his appendage’s impatience, Harry continued to toy with his girlfriend. “How many climaxes do you think it’ll take to deal out punishment to the Death Eaters?”
“Like you said, as many as it takes,” she said, running her fingers over the edges of her cotton bra.
“Well, then, I’ll just have to do my best,” Harry boasted, hopping in place in eagerness. “I reckon that I’ll pleasure you so much that my tongue will be numb by the time I’m finished.”
Hermione bit her lip. Her blush deepened as she said, “You’ll be talking like Seamus then.”
“Sacrifices have to be made for justice. What’s a little numb tongue compared to punishing evil Death Eaters?”
With a gleeful expression, Hermione went to move the tantric magic book off of her lap. When her eyes fell on the text, the witch’s eyes grew wide and her joyful demeanor disappeared in a flash.
Recognizing that look, Harry asked “What is it?”
“I misread it,” Hermione practically whimpered. “It states we need more than two.”
“And I plan on giving you more than two,” Harry said with naked pride. “In fact, I plan on giving you so many that you lose consciousness. And I’ll probably continue to give you more when you’re asleep because I’m feeling frisky right now. It’s for justice after all.”
“No, Harry, not multiple orgasms, multiple partners,” Hermione corrected.
Harry blinked once. “Oh.”
He blinked again and asked, “By multiple you mean more than you and me?”
“Yes. To achieve the itching sensation in our targets I told you about, we would need a m?ge ?rois.”
“Manage a what?” asked a perplexed Harry.
“A threesome, Harry,” Hermione pointed out. “For a burning sensation akin to a bad rash, we would need four people. And for the target to feel utter pain, we would need at least six participants.”
“Oh,” Harry repeated. Causing pain to every marked Death Eater was appealing. Perhaps there was a way around it. “Maybe we can get Ron and Luna to join in,” he offered.
“Excuse me?” Hermione asked, clearly offended.
“You know, Ron and Luna can use the spare room while we’re in ours,” explained Harry. “We’ll just put up some silencing charms so we don’t hear each other.”
“You misunderstand, Harry,” she replied. “By multiple partners, the book said we have to share in the ritual.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning once Ron and Luna, and then you and I had our go, we would need to swap partners,” Hermione said with thinly veiled annoyance. “Which means you’d have to have sex with Luna and…” she punctuated these next words as if they were the most important part of her argument; “…I would have to sleep with RON! EWW!”
“They’re our friends and I love them,” admitted Harry. “But I don’t ‘love them’ love them.”
“RON! EWW!”
“They may have seen us have sex through Pensieve memories,” Harry continued. “But this would be entirely different. And different in a bad way.”
“All that red hair.”
“I don’t mind sharing some things, but there is a point where sharing becomes too much.”
“It would be like shagging a circus clown.”
Harry looked at his lover. “He’s still our friend. We don’t need to be cruel.”
“Circus clown,” she stated factually. “He already has the orange-ish red hair and abnormally big feet. All he needs to finish the ensemble is a red-rubber nose.”
“You don’t seem all that upset over the notion of me sleeping with Luna in this little scenario,” Harry dared to point out, hoping that Hermione would take it for the joke that it was intended to be.
“Well she isn’t a clown like Ron, is she?” Hermione replied. “Besides, what would you do with those enormous tits of hers? Honestly? Each one is bigger than your head. You wouldn’t know what to do with them.”
“I’d use them as a pillow,” he said with a naughty smile. “A big, soft, warm pillow.”
“We could both use her breast as pillows,” Hermione snorted a laugh. “You sleep on the left one I’ll get the right.”
The couple shared a belly laugh at the thought. After a moment, Hermione became more serious. “It’s too bad though about the ritual. It would’ve been nice to make those lousy Death Eaters suffer.”
“Can’t we still do it?” asked Harry. “Just ourselves mind you. I mean with both of our power boost, we should be able to perform it.”
“No, in this case, the participants’ power level has no effect on the ritual,” Hermione said with a pout. “In fact, according to this, some of the people could even be squibs and the outcome would still be the same.”
“Shame that,” Harry said, trying to look like he was deeply disappointed. The curled up edges of his mouth ruined the affect. “Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to give you several screaming orgasms just for fun then, justice be damned.”
With that, Harry leapt on his lover and tore at her skirt. A few scant minutes later, the first of many “OH SWEET BABY MAEVE!” was heard.
*
Later that week, Harry had come up with a rather brilliant plan. He had decided to perform the Wit Enhancing ritual that Hermione had created and then, once he was recuperated, they would do the han – err – searching ritual. This was brilliant for two reasons; first, he believed that with the temporary boost in his intelligence, he’d be able to deduce where the missing Horcrux was hidden. And second, this plan was brilliant because it involved two different sex acts, which were always fun.
To prepare for the Wit Enhancing ritual, Hermione warmed up by stretching so that she could hold the awkward position needed for it. And Harry warmed up both himself and his lover for the ritual by kissing, licking, and suckling Hermione’s various bits. After shouting the proper incantation of “Maximus Intellegentia!” when his climax hit him, Harry felt the wave of magic pass through him. He knew that the ritual had increased his intelligence because as he waited for his stamina to return, he and Hermione speculated that the cooling weather this season would make the skins of Mandrakes particularly thick, making the plants overly bitter and angry.
An hour or two after performing the Wit Enhancing ritual, Harry and Hermione started the han – err – other ritual. A few seconds after Hermione began to massage Harry and while both teens chanted their separate incantations, they felt the now familiar sensations of their spirits leaving their bodies. Once again, astral-Harry and Hermione dove through the air and ended up in the darkness. Unfortunately, their increased intelligence shed little light on the darkness. In fact, while they hovered in the inky blackness, the two lovers discussed the esoteric ramifications of the color black and what it various meanings meant for mankind throughout the ages.
Despite the fact that they weren’t able to discern the location of the missing Horcrux, Harry suggested that they attempt the ritual again immediately upon returning to his body.
“You just want me to give you another hand-job,” Hermione said in a reproachable fashion.
“Yes,” he replied with all honestly. He then went on to lecture on the numerous health benefits of an active sex life.
*
A few days later, after the effects of the wit enhancing ritual wore off, Harry and Hermione made their way to their chambers after their lessons had ended for the day. Harry was pleasantly surprised to find Remus waiting for them in the Head Students’ common room.
“What’s up, Moony?” he asked as Hermione shut the door.
“I’m sorry to bother you two,” Remus said apologetically. “But something rather curious has come up.”
“What is it?” asked Hermione.
“Do you believe in reincarnation?” the older wizard asked sincerely.
“I’ve never really given it much thought,” Harry said.
“I’ve read some books on the subject,” offered Hermione.
“Well, prepare to be amazed,” Remus stated and he opened the door leading to Harry and Hermione’s room.
Slowly, little Sirius, Remus’ son, came out of the room. The infant didn’t crawl; in fact he walked upright, on two wobbly legs.
“He’s not supposed to do that,” Hermione said to Remus. “Sirius is too young to be able to even crawl, much less walk.”
“Then I guess I shouldn’t be able to talk either,” the infant said in a squeaky voice.
“What the hell is going on?” Harry asked in shock as he stared at the talking infant.
“Harry, Hermione, I’m Sirius,” the baby stated.
“Yes, we know that,” Hermione said.
“No, not ‘Sirius, Remus’ son,’ I’m Sirius, Remus’ old lover and Harry’s godfather,” the baby corrected.
“You can’t be able to talk,” Hermione balked.
“Wait… Sirius was gay?” Harry asked in disbelief. “I thought he was a ladies’ man?”
“No, we only referred to your father in that way,” Remus pointed out. “Never once did we mention our sexuality to you, Harry. Not because we weren’t proud, but because we were private.”
“Wait, you’re gay?” Harry asked Remus again.
“The proper term is bisexual, but yes, I’m gay,” the older wizard answered. “Having a Metamorphmagus as a wife really does have its benefits, especially in the sack.”
“Hey, remember me,” the baby waved his chubby little arm to get everyone’s attention. “I’m the issue here, not the fact that Remus liked to slob knobs.”
“Crude as always,” Remus criticized, rolling his eyes in disapproval.
“I could remind a certain someone in this room that he used to particularly enjoy my crude language, especially when that certain someone and I were locked up in dark and cramped broom cupboards, but I won’t,” little Sirius commented. “We need to find out how this happened.”
“The baby is talking!” Hermione said in shocked disbelief while pointing at Sirius.
“Well, that’s the point. But, I’m not a baby, not really,” little Sirius said. “I’m Sirius Black. I went to school with Remus, James, Lily, Wormtail, and Snape. I fought in the first war as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, was betrayed by Wormtail, chucked in Azkaban, escaped, met you, Harry, went on the run, then got locked up in Grimmauld Place, fell through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. The next thing I know, I’m getting pushed out of my cousin’s womb. How’d this happen?”
“The baby is talking!” Hermione, still in shock, repeated.
“Hermione, I need your brains right now,” Remus said and it seemed to draw the brunette witch out of her stupor. “You’re one of the brightest people I know and I need you to figure out what happened.”
Clearly bolstered by Remus’ compliment, Hermione snapped to attention. “So, he’s Sirius?” she questioned.
“Yes, he has all of Sirius’ memories and experiences,” Remus summarized. “I don’t know if it was because of that ritual you and Harry tricked us into doing, or the fact that I’m a werewolf and Tonks’ is a Metamorphmagus. Or even a combination of different things that caused this.”
“Wait, wait,” Hermione demanded. “I read some cases of reincarnation. But I have never heard of one where the person has retained all of their memories from their past lives. It’s never happened.”
“Well, it happened to me, Hermione,” Sirius said.
“But it’s not possible,” she countered. “The cases I read stated that sometimes a few vague memories may remain, but nothing like what you’re describing. You must be mistaken. Surely you can’t be Sirius.”
A tiny, impish grin appeared on both Remus and the baby, as if they had been expecting Hermione’s comment. With his squeaky voice, little Sirius uttered “I am serious, and don’t call me Shirley.”
Harry paused a second before saying “Wait, I’ve heard that before. On the telly I think.”
Hermione turned and faced Harry. It was clear by her expression that she was about to ask him what he was talking about when realization suddenly dawned upon her. “Oh, you cheeky bastard!” Hermione cursed at Remus. She pointed an accusatory finger at the older wizard and loudly scolded again, “Cheeky bastard!”
“Shh, you’ll wake the baby,” Remus said between peals of laughter.
“Oh, yes, Hermione shouting will wake up the baby, not his father laughing like a baboon,” Tonks sarcastically commented as she walked out of Harry and Hermione’s room. Bundled in the pink haired witch’s arms was a smiling baby Sirius.
Harry’s eyes darted between the two copies of baby-Sirius. He asked, pointing to the baby in Tonks’ arms “If that’s Sirius, then who’s that?” and pointed at the one standing next to Remus.
“That’s Courtney, under polyjuice,” informed a still laughing Remus. “She begged to be part of a prank against the two of you. How could we refuse?”
“Can I sit down now?” Courtney said in the baby’s squeaky voice. “I haven’t any bloody kneecaps thanks to being an infant, and it hurts to stand.”
As the polyjuiced Auror plopped down on the ground, Harry shot a disbelieving look at Remus. “You brewed polyjuice, which takes a month to do, just to pull one of the oldest and most clich?jokes in the world?”
“Yes!” cheered Remus.
Obviously encouraged by his father’s laughter, the real Sirius began to chuckle. Well, actually, he made more of gurgling and spitting sounds, but you could tell that he was trying to laugh along with his dad. The cute sounds that the real baby-Sirius was making lightened Harry’s and Hermione’s moods.
“I can’t believe you went through all the trouble of brewing polyjuice just so you can prank us with the ‘Sirius-serious’ joke,” Hermione guffawed.
“If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it,” Remus said proudly.
“What I don’t get is the whole gay thing?” asked Harry.
“Adding elements of the truth in a prank always heightens the realism of it,” Remus responded.
“Wait, you really are gay?” Hermione asked, taken back slightly.
“As I told you before, I’m bisexual,” corrected Remus.
“Not before you met me, you weren’t,” Tonks interjected. “You only liked blokes until I came along.”
“So you and Sirius were a couple?” Harry asked, ashamed he hadn’t realized.
“Yes, we were,” Remus said with a pleasant smile. “We were lovers but we broke up over a tiff we had shortly before Wormtail betrayed us all. Then we reconnected after the year I taught at Hogwarts. And we reconnected several hundred times while he was locked up in Grimmauld Place.”
Harry experienced a moment of happiness. He realized that he was happy with the thought that at least his godfather had some comfort before he died.
“So that comment about Tonks’ metamorphmagus abilities being a benefit was true?” Hermione asked tentatively.
“Yes, Hermione. Not only can I change my appearance, I can change my plumbing too,” Tonks said with a smile. The pink haired witch walked up to Hermione and confided; “You gain a whole new appreciation for how much blokes love blow-jobs when you can grow a willy and have it sucked on.”
“Oh,” uttered Hermione as she blushed a deep ruby red.
“I don’t mean to be a pest, but the polyjuice is about to wear off,” Courtney said. “And seeing how I’m only wearing a nappy, I’ll be pretty much naked. Now, I know how kinky Hermione and Harry are, but I don’t want to give them a show.”
“Alright, we’d better leave then,” Remus said.
After saying their goodbyes, Harry and Hermione were left alone.
“So, what should we do now?” Harry asked. He was hoping Hermione would ask for suggestions to which he’d offer “How about you bend over the desk…” but unfortunately, Hermione stated;
“I have to head to the Library and study.” She scooped up some parchment and quills. “Professor McGonagall offered me some extra credit and I’m taking her up on it.”
“But, your grade is around one hundred and eighty percent already. Why do you need extra credit?” complained Harry.
“It never hurts to get on Professor McGonagall’s good side,” Hermione stated.
“Her good side? Merlin, Hermione, McGonagall loves you so much right now I’d bet she has you in her will.”
“Maybe you should learn from my example,” Hermione challenged. “You could always boost your marks up a bit. How about you join me and we both can get some extra credit?”
“No,” he said automatically. “I’ve been reading and studying all day long. It’s time for a break.”
“Fine, it’s your loss,” Hermione said and made her way out of the room.
Harry grumbled. He was looking forward to making love with Hermione. So much so that ‘Harry, Jr.’ was stirring from his slumber. The organ was slowly risingand asked where Hermione was. For a moment, Harry considered taking the issue in hand – literally – and alleviate himself. But he had a girlfriend now and therefore he shouldn’t have to do this solo anymore. Grumpily, Harry flopped down on the couch.
A loose piece of parchment sticking out of one of Harry’s books on Quidditch caught his eye. He remembered that he had written down something and placed in a book back when he was under the effects of the Wit Enhancing ritual, but like all things he learned or thought during that time, Harry had only fuzzy recollections. Curious as to what he had written, Harry reached over and pulled the paper out of the book. It was a note, in his hand, addressed to himself. It read;
“Dear Harry,
Since you cannot remember things that occurred clearly, I have written this note.
I had a wonderful idea for a charm, and thanks to the boosted intelligence I received, I created it. I have not told Hermione about this spell because I want it to be a surprise.
It is called Loninquitas Amorus. I won’t go into detail how I created or how it works because I know how feeble your mind is…”
Harry paused in his reading. Had he just insulted his own intelligence? As if he had somehow predicted this question back when he wrote the note, the next line stated;
“Yes, I just insulted your intelligence, get over it.
Now back to the charm; the name Loninquitas Amorus literally means ‘Distance Love.’ Basically, with this spell, you will be able to pleasure Hermione from a distance. There is no physical contact, penetration, or liquid exchange. Hermione will only experience sensations and feelings. Just purse your lips in a kiss and imagine that you are kissing her and Hermione will have the sensation of actually being kissed. The same applies for foreplay; if you move your fingers about while focusing on Hermione’s ‘flower’ she’ll get the sensation of being stimulated. Same tactics apply to oral sex; work your tongue while pretending to eat her out and she’ll get the sensation.
Sex is even simpler than anything else. The technique you’ll need to perform this part of the charm is something you’ve been practicing for years; masturbation. While you’re wanking yourself, imagine that Hermione is wrapped around your organ instead of your hand.
The incantation is Loninquitas Amorus if you haven’t figured that out already. The necessary wand movements and spell intents are fully detailed on the second sheet of parchment.
Yours… or rather ‘me’s,’
Harry.”
A nasty smile stretched across Harry’s face. He got up from the couch and fetched his Invisibility Cloak and made his way to the Library. He reckoned it was high-time to test out this new charm.
Once he was close to the Library, Harry slipped into a classroom. There, he cast a Silencing Charm around himself, jotted down a quick note, and tossed the Invisibility Cloak over his body. With the combination of Cloak and the Silencing Charm, no one would be able to see or hear Harry as he performed his new charm on Hermione. Well except for Moody’s Magical Eye, and he wasn’t anywhere near the library, so it’s the same thing.
Walking into the Library, Harry noted that it was rather crowded. A group of fifth year Slytherins was in the Divination section, while two sixth year Ravenclaws were browsing Ancient Runes. And located next to the table where Hermione was doing some light reading (only four books at the moment) was nearly a dozen second years from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, huddled around a large tome. Pince, the Librarian, was scuttling from group to group, making sure no one was up to any shenanigans.
Silently, Harry slinked up to Hermione and placed the note he had just written on the book she was reading. When he pulled his hand away, it must’ve looked like the note popped into existence to Hermione. Before reading the scrap of paper, Hermione looked around, trying to find Harry, obviously knowing that he was hiding under his Cloak. Giving up on trying to find her lover, Hermione read the note.
“I created a new charm and I’m going to test it out. Just try and remain quiet.
Love,
H.”
Hermione eyes narrowed in question as Harry took his place a few feet away from her. Whether she was going to ask what type of charm it was, why would she have to try to be quiet, or how on earth Harry was able to create a charm didn’t matter. Under his Cloak, Harry waved his wand in the proscribed manner and incanted “Loninquitas Amorus.”
Harry pursed his lips and imagined pressing them to Hermione’s. He pretended to take in her scent. He saw his girlfriends eyes widened in surprise. She reached up and touched her lips, clearly wondering why it felt like she was being kissed. Harry parted his lips and slid his tongue out, remembering what it felt like to have his tongue roll around Hermione’s mouth. A fetching blush grew on Hermione’s cheeks.
Satisfied that the charm was working so far, Harry decided to progress further. He imagined trailing kisses down Hermione chin, neck, and to her breasts. The brunette witch gave a startled little jump when Harry mimed tweaking her nipples. He magically worked on her breasts for some time, licking, suckling, tweaking, and caressing air. Hermione fidgeted slightly as the sensation of having Harry kiss and fondle her body overcame her.
Smiling, Harry moved onto the next part of his plan. He held his hand in front of his face, extended his fore and middle finger, spreading them out in a “v” and began to lick the space between his fingers. Hermione sat bolt straight in her chair as she felt Harry’s tongue on her nether lips. Eyes bulging and darting in every direction, the witch was clearly worried that someone would notice her predicament. And knowing how kinky his witch was, Harry was positive that the threat of discovery was turning Hermione on even more.
Tiny beads of sweat blossomed on Hermione’s brow. Harry assumed that she must’ve been practically flowing at that time. But, he wanted more out of her. Tapping into his love core, Harry activated his parseltongue ability.
“That’s cheating!” Hermione muttered under her breath. Almost instantaneously, she began to gyrate her hips, grinding her bum and other bits into her seat. “Cheating! Unfair! Cheating!” she chanted in a soft voice.
A short while later, Hermione began to tremble. Harry knew that she wanted to cry out in ecstasy but she was forcing it back. Her mouth opened and her lips formed a tight “o.” The witch’s eyelids were half closed. Harry realized that his lover was about to have one hell of a climax. He guessed that it must’ve been the combination of his parsletongue magic, the threat of being found out, and books – which were a turn on for Hermione – that was eliciting such a response from her.
Suddenly, Hermione gripped the edge of the table and stomped her feet down. Seemingly involuntarily, her bottom rose up off of the seat two or three inches. The witch let out a long, shuttering “o-o-oh!” before slowly lowering herself back onto the chair.
While she caught her breath, Hermione looked over at the group of second years just a few feet away. Thankfully, none of them had seemed to have noticed her actions. While Hermione was attempting to regain her composure, Harry pulled a very eager ‘Harry, Jr.’ out of his trousers. The raven haired wizard spat a large amount of saliva onto his palm and spread it over his organ. He spat once more and remembered the actual sensation of what it felt like to make love to Hermione. The wizard gripped his “wand” and slowly stroked himself.
Hermione’s eyes shot open, wider than they ever had before. It looked like her eyes were threatening to leap out of her skull and roll across the table.
“Oh, my,” she muttered softly.
Inch by inch, Harry slowly moved his hand down his shaft. Then, just as slowly, he slid his hand back up. He repeated this twice more and Hermione’s hands gripped the table, her feet stomped the ground, and her lips formed an “o” once again. Harry marveled at Hermione’s reaction, she was already approaching another orgasm. Apparently, his new spell was working wonderfully.
Harry continued to masturbate for several minutes. During this time Hermione had no less than three orgasms, each one threatening her resolve not to cry out passionately. She had sweated so much that her hair clung to her face, which was glowing red.
“Miss Granger, are you well?” Madame Pince asked.
Harry had been so intent on Hermione that he had not seen the Librarian walk up to her table.
“YES!” Hermione said a little too vehemently.
Harry wanted to stop, but he was so damn close that his hand wouldn’t listen. It continued to pump away involuntarily.
“I’m f-f-fine, ma…ma’am,” Hermione stuttered. With a touch of horror, Harry could tell that another orgasm was about to hit his lover any second. Thankfully though, Harry was in a similar state. He took comfort knowing that it would soon be over.
“You look ill, girl,” Pince pressed.
“O-oh, its n-n-nothing,” insisted Hermione rather breathily. “It’s j-just my ah-ah-allergies.”
“You should go see Madame Pomfrey,” suggested Pince. “She has a number of allergy remedies.”
“I’ll do-do-do that,” agreed Hermione. Then it was upon her. Harry saw her eyes grow wide in a combination of ecstasy and terror. A very large climax was about to claim her. And judging by the look of fear in her eyes, Harry knew that Hermione wouldn’t be able to stifle any cries that would ensue. Hermione took in a great, deep breath and Harry tensed, waiting for her scream of passion.
“AH-CHOO!” Hermione let out a very loud and very fake sneeze. “AH-CHOO!” she echoed and her feet kicked out. She threw her head back and “sneezed” several times in succession. “AH! AHHH! AH-AH-CHOO! AH-CHOOOOooo! AH-CHOO!” Harry was wincing at Hermione’s utter lack of acting ability. He was honestly surprised that the librarian was buying those clearly fake sneezes.
As his lover continued to hide her screaming orgasm with sneezes, Harry finally joined her in ecstasy. With a grunt, Harry ejaculated.
“My, that was a mighty large one,” Pince commented, surprised by the ferocity of Hermione’s sneeze.
“Damn right it was,” Hermione muttered in a husky voice. The edges of her lips spiked upwards and her eyes were sparkling in a truly satisfied way.
“Well, get yourself to the Hospital ward straight away,” Pince ordered. Harry could tell that the Librarian was less concerned about Hermione’s health than she was about the younger witch getting germs and boogies all over her precious books.
“Let me catch my breath, then I’ll go see Pomfrey,” Hermione sighed contentedly.
Now that his task was completed Harry magically cleansed his discharge (he had thought about leaving his mess on the floor but that was too unhygienic) and left.
Humming happily to himself, Harry walked toward the Head Boy and Girl’s room unseen and unheard by anyone. He was satisfied, not only for having created such a useful spell like Loninquitas Amorus but also for making Hermione climax like she had never before.
“Potter’s the best teacher, I tell you,” a sixth year Ravenclaw told his friends as Harry passed a small gathering. Curious as to why these kids were talking about him, Harry moved closer so that he could listen in.
“I’ve learned so much from him,” another boy added with a grin.
For a moment, Harry had thought they were talking about Dumbledore’s Army, but it didn’t make sense at all. None of these younger wizards were part of that group so they clearly couldn’t be talking about Harry’s lessons in Defense.
“My bird loves what I’ve learned,” a third boasted. “She was practically gushing.”
“But not as much as Granger gushes, I’d wager,” the second chuckled. “She’s an effing hosepipe… but in a good way.”
Harry’s blood turned to ice in his veins.
“I can’t wait for my turn to watch it,” a fourth said excitedly.
“Why? You don’t even have a girlfriend,” the first ridiculed.
“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy watching the Pensieves.”
“It was pretty cool to watch,” the second said in a distracted way, like he was reminiscing. “Granger is hot and so damned frisky.”
“And besides, look at Creevey,” the third pointed out. “He didn’t have a girlfriend, and now thanks to those Pensieves, he’s bagged Patil.”
“I really can’t wait until it’s my turn to watch,” the fourth repeated.
In total shock, Harry stumbled away from the group of Ravenclaws. As he blindly made his way back to his chambers, his mind was rocked by what he had just heard. The Pensieve Memory he and Hermione had made for Ron was making the rounds at school. People were watching Harry and Hermione being intimate. That was why everyone was acting strangely; Su Li kissing Hermione, that Ravenclaw giving him the thumbs up a few days before, Seamus with Pavarti and Lavender, and Colin with Padma.
Harry didn’t know how he made it into his chambers or when he had taken off his Invisibility Cloak which was draped over a nearby chair. He was looking around the room in a daze and had not noticed Hermione walk in.
“That was a very, very interesting charm,” she complimented. “Did you make it while under the effects of the Wit Enhancing ritual?”
“Sure,” he uttered, not listening to what she had said.
“It worked wonderfully, but you do have to work on your aim a bit,” the brunette witch added with a smile plastered on her face. “You see, when you entered me, you were just a few inches off course.”
“Okay,” he spoke, skill shocked over the revelation that Ron had passed the Pensieve Memory around and that a good number of his peers had watched him go down on Hermione.
“I’m not angry,” Hermione continued, not noticing Harry’s distracted mindset. “I found that I rather liked it. Actually, that’s an understatement. Well, don’t be cross because I know I said I’d never let you take me that way, but I say lets give it a shot right now. It is possible that it was the effects of your love based magic that gave me such a… positive response and the actual physical act of sodomy may be unbearable, but I’m willing to give it a try,” she finished with a nervous yet eager twinkle in her eyes.”
“Un-huh,” Harry said evenly.
“Harry, what is your problem?” she demanded. “I just asked you to bugger me and you’re acting like I killed Hedwig.”
Slowly, Harry turned and faced his lover. He tried to find a way to sugarcoat the news, but how does one say “Well, we’re accidental porn-stars, dear.” So Harry just blurted it out.
“Remember that Pensieve Memory we made for Ron and Luna?” Harry asked. Hermione nodded, and he continued in a rapid manner, “Well, Ron’s been lending it out.”
“To whom?” she asked with an angry expression on her face.
“Um, everyone,” he answered.
“Everyone?” she nearly screeched. The anger in her eyes grew in intensity.
“Yes, everyone,” he confirmed. “Apparently in turns.”
Anger could no longer describe Hermione’s expression and Harry had a difficult time finding a proper word to describe it. But one thing Harry did do was make a mental note to write a touching eulogy for Ron.
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On his way home after fucking Kayla, Jordan learns some things about his other workmates that he wasn’t expecting.
No fucking way was I going to ask my best friend over so my brother and his three friends could gang bang us.
For many years, I had had a close relationship with my step-daughter, Brooke. My wife had been quite sick and almost bed-ridden for about 8 years and Brooke had become a close friend, and one with whom I could share intelligent conversations with.
Often my routine after work was to come home and prepare dinner – Brooke usually sat in the kitchen with me and we chatted about pretty much everything.
From the age of about 14, Brooke’s conversations started to become focussed around boys & sex & stuff like that. We developed a very open and uninhibited relationship with our conversations – she could ask me pretty much anything and we’d talk about it, no problems.
After about 12 months of this, Brooke had had a few boyfriends – nothing special or long term, just the usual teenage thing. At this stage we had taken to going for walks together after dinner, sometimes sharing a beer as we walked, and just having a nice chat – nothing weird or kinky, just perfectly innocent conversation.
She told me about how she felt about her current boyfriend, how far she’d gone with him, how far she was thinking about going etc. “You know, Dad, this guy is the first guy I’ve considered giving a Blow Job,” was one of her comments after one of her longer relationships.
Whether she did or not with that guy, I don’t know, but the relationship ended soon after and she hooked up with a new boy friend who she fell head over heels for. Needless to say, after a month or so, the conversations became even more interesting!
I did enjoy the companionship, even though I knew that I was using Brooke as a substitute for the company of my wife, whom I hardly ever saw.
The situation progressed to the stage where, shortly after Brooke’s 16th birthday we would often sit in the lounge room after dinner, after the dishes had been done and the other younger kids had gone off to bed, and have a few drinks and a nice chat.
One evening we were chatting away and, I must confess, we’d both hit the white wine a bit hard! We’d got on to the topic of her current boyfriend, and how things were progressing there. By all accounts, everything was going well, and progressing steadily. It was most interesting hearing from Brooke how things had panned out, from the first tentative kisses & cuddles about 6 months ago, to the mutual masturbation session last weekend.
“I gave him a hand-job last weekend at the party, Dad”, she gleefully told me. “Shit it was messy. He came all over me!”
“And what did you think of that?” I asked
“Well, I didn’t mind it too much and because he had my top pulled up to my shoulders I didn’t get any on my clothes, but it was all gooey & sticky”, she replied with a grin.
“Well, then what did you do?” I asked
“Nothing, just got cleaned up and went back to the party”
“So, you didn’t go further?”
“No. Um. Well, yes, a bit. I let him finger me but no sex. I’m not ready for that yet. Soon, I think I will be, but it wasn’t right at the time. Mind you, I could do it now, I think. Where is he? I wish he was here!” she giggled. Obviously the wine was really starting to kick in!
We talked for a bit longer about general stuff, then she said she was feeling a bit woozy and thought it would be a good idea to have a bath. I agreed that it would be a good idea, so she got up and staggered down to her bedroom.
I watched her as she walked away, noticing with pleasure how well her ass filled her tight jeans, how good her slender long legs appeared inside their denim covering, the nice hips tapering up into a nicely pinched waist, then filling out again to wide shoulders. My little girl was certainly turning into a stunning young woman.
Mind you, whilst I could look at my daughter and appreciate her figure from a male’s point of view, I only felt a wave of fatherly pride toward her. No lustful thoughts crossed my mind at all. Honestly! Even with the wine in my system!
Anyway, I turned my attention to the rubbish currently playing on the television. Having decided that there was nothing worth watching, I was considering putting on a video when I heard a thump and a muffled cry from the bathroom. Immediately I walked down the passage to see my daughter slumped against the wall, wedged in between the bath and the hand-basin, giggling and with a silly grin on her face.
“You’ve got me so pissed, Dad, I fell over trying to turn the taps on,” she giggled.
“Are you alright?” I asked
“Sure. But I think I’ll need your help”, she replied.
I helped her up and she fell against my chest for support.
“Why don’t you sit down there and I’ll run the bath for you before you fall over again”, I suggested.
“OK. Good idea,” she said.
She sat on the edge of the bath and I ran the water.
“Bubbles?” I asked
“Who are you calling ‘Bubbles’?”, she giggled.
“Do you want bubbles in the bath, you bloody idiot?” I joked back
“Yes, please”, she replied with a smile.
I squirted a generous amount of bubble mixture into the bath, swirling it around until the bath was full enough.
“OK now?” I asked.
“Yes, thanks, Dad”, she replied.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it then”, I said and returned to the Lounge Room.
I resumed my position in front of the TV, flicking aimlessly through the channels in the vain attempt at finding something worthwhile to watch. No luck. After a few minutes, I realised that if I wasn’t able to get to the toilet soon, I’d probably make a real mess! I held off for as long as possible, as the only way into the toilet was through the bathroom, and Brooke was still in there. But, eventually I had to give in to nature’s urgings and went back up the passage. I knocked on the door.
“Yes?” came the reply
“Sorry, mate, but can I come in?”, I asked, “I have to go to the toilet, and if I don’t right now….”
“Sure, that’s cool”.
I went in, expecting to see Brooke luxuriating in her bath, with bubbles up to her chin and covering everything else. I was somewhat taken aback by the fact that she’d let all the water out and was lying in the bath, totally naked, and making no attempt to cover anything.
“Oh my God, I’m s..sorry”, I stammered, averting my eyes and making a dash for the toilet door. Safely behind it, I asked “What are you doing?”
“I was just lying here for a while thinking about having a quick shower”, she replied.
“OK then”, I replied, trying vainly to purge my mind of the magnificent sight I had just seen. The image of her naked body, flushed and glistening with water from the hot bath, with her wonderfully pert breasts jutting proudly from her chest, her flat stomach with that very sexy belly-button piercing, down to a startlingly lush growth of pubic hair nestling between her magnificent and slightly parted thighs was burned into to my mind’s eye indelibly.
“Control yourself, you deviate”, I told myself, trying to get my emotions (and my heart) under control.
Anyway, I finished my business and flushed.
“Are you going to get into the shower?” I asked. “I want to come out”.
“OK – Hang on”, she replied.
After a few minutes I heard the water running.
“OK, Dad”.
I opened the toilet door and walked with almost indecent haste to the bathroom door, knowing full well that Brooke was only centimetres from me and hidden from view by nothing more than a flimsy PVC shower curtain. I made a conscious effort to keep my head and eyes directly ahead, not trusting myself not to try and steal another peek at her through any convenient gaps in the shower curtain. I made it safely to the bathroom door, opened it and paused.
“All set, sweetheart?” I asked
“Yes thanks”, she replied, and I went into the passage, firmly closing the door behind me.
I paused for breath and some reflection.
“She’s drunk. She didn’t mean anything. She probably didn’t even realise she’d done it”, I thought to myself. “You’re drunk, too. Pull yourself together”
I went back to the lounge room, turned off the TV and jumped on the Net. Soon, I had found one of my favourite porn picture sites and was flicking through the images. It was not until I’d been through a few that I realised I had been unconsciously comparing the girls on the screen with my daughter! Oh dear. I was about to switch to something which would get my mind off the image of Brooke in the bath when she came bounding in – all hot & flushed from the shower.
She stood there for a little while – it seemed as if she wanted to give me a chance to have a good look at her in her PJs. She was wearing nothing but a small pair of boxer shorts and a short green singlet. I couldn’t help but admire her long smooth legs, nor could I avoid noticing the way her nipples were clearly visible through the thin material of her singlet.
“I feel much better now, Dad. I needed that and now I’m going to bed”. With that, she came over to me and bent down to give me a good night peck on the cheek as was customary. She said nothing about the images on the screen, but I knew she’d seen them.
She stood up, turned, and walked out of the room.
As I admired the view as she walked out of the room (noticing for the first time what a great ass she had), I thought “What the hell is going on here?” She never wore anything that revealing in front of me – usually wearing a T-Shirt & long pyjama trousers around the house, changing into something cooler (if it was warm) in the privacy of her bedroom just before retiring.
I shook my head to try and clear it, and then returned my attentions to the computer. After a few minutes I realised that I had no real interest in anything on the screen and, as it was past midnight, should probably go to bed. I turned off the computer and went to my bedroom. My wife was fast asleep (as usual) – nothing short of a Thermonuclear Explosion would wake her. I then remembered that I hadn’t put the two dogs to bed and knew that I’d have to hunt for them. This was a nightly ritual as they usually managed to snuggle into bed with somebody and I’d have to get them out.
I found one dog in bed with my wife, but the other wasn’t with either of our young sons. Therefore, he had to be with Brooke.
I went into Brooke’s room and looked for the tell-tale lump under the bedclothes. Sure enough there it was. I slid my hand under the bedclothes (nothing unusual here, as I said this was a nightly ritual with one or more of the kids!) and grabbed the protesting terrier. As I dragged him out, my hand rubbed against Brooke’s thigh, once again – nothing terribly unusual, but tonight it felt as if an electric shock had passed between us. She sighed softly and rolled onto her stomach.
I herded both dogs into their beds and shut the door. Now, this is where things started to fall apart.
Almost of their own volition my feet carried me back to Brooke’s room, when I’d originally planned to head to my own. Soon I found myself standing near the head of her bed (she slept in the top bunk – why she’d want to sleep up there when she could have slept on the currently empty lower one, I don’t know) without really knowing why I was there, but knowing that I had no real reason to be there. The room was dark – the only light coming through the doorway from the passage.
After just standing there and watching her for a while, I slowly slipped my hand under the covers once again and gently stroked the back of her thigh. It was so smooth and firm, I couldn’t believe it. She sighed and wriggled around a little but that was all.
For the next few minutes I gently stroked the back of both her upper thighs, luxuriating in the feel of her beautiful skin and tight muscles. Soon I began to rub her ass as well, rubbing my hand from one thigh over her ass to the other leg. Her breathing had deepened a bit but this was the only hint of a reaction from her and, thus encouraged, I became bolder.
I slipped my hand under the waistband of her shorts, immediately noticing that she was wearing one of her skimpiest G-Strings (I also did the family washing every week, so I was aware of what underwear she had). I cupped my hand over one of her ass cheeks, feeling amazed at the smooth perfection of her skin and the rubbery texture of the muscles underneath. She really had a perfect ass.
I slipped my hand under the string of her underwear and rubbed my hand gently all over both her ass cheeks. Her breathing had deepened further, and she let out the occasional soft sigh. This continued for a few minutes – I think we were both enjoying the intimacy and the feel of skin on skin, even though not a word had passed between us. Soon, I raised my hand slightly, pulling her shorts and g-string away from her backside and down her legs. She raised her hips to make this exercise easier for me, pulling her legs up too so that I could slip her pants & g-string completely off.
Once she was naked from the waist down, Brooke stretched her legs out straight again, lying on her stomach. I rubbed my hand slowly back up her magnificent legs and onto her bare backside. It was wonderful.
Now that my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I attempted to pull the bed covers back so that I could see her. She wasn’t having any of that though and with one smooth movement grabbed the covers and threw them back over herself. However, she made no attempt to stop me from massaging her lower body.
I continued to rub her ass and the backs of her legs. Despite her unwillingness to reveal herself completely, I was somewhat encouraged by the sweet aroma of her arousal which had wafted out from under the covers.
As I rubbed my hand up and down her legs she voluntarily parted her thighs, giving me clear access to her teenage pussy. I slowly moved my hand up her legs to the junction of her thighs and gently rubbed a finger up and down her outer lips. They were so warm and so incredibly soft as well as slightly damp from the juices which were evidently starting to flow down in the depths.
Brooke’s breathing had become very slow and deep, and she let out a small moan from time to time as I gently rubbed her pussy lips.
She parted her thighs further and, almost by accident, my finger gently slipped into her cunt.
“Oh my fucking God”, I thought.
I pushed my finger in deeper, feeling amazed by how warm and moist her cunt was. Correction, it wasn’t warm – it was almost hot. I gently rubbed my finger back and forward, finger-fucking my gorgeous 16 year old daughter. There was no resistance from a hymen that I could feel – she’d obviously torn it earlier on, either through masturbation or her use of tampons, or her boy friend had fixed it last week when he’d fingered her.
Brooke was so hot and so wet that I couldn’t believe it. Her pussy muscles closed tightly around my finger as I slid it back and forth. She was now letting out small and quiet whimpers of pleasure. I wish I could have seen her face properly, as I’m sure I would have seen a smug and/or contented grin on it.
Withdrawing my finger, I worked my palm under her hips so that I could reach the front of her cunt with my fingers. She lifted her hips very slightly to give me easier access and I began to gently massage around her clitoris with my fingertips. She let out a small, but extremely sexy, whimper of pleasure. Meanwhile, I slid my other hand under her chest and started playing with her left boob – gently squeezing and rubbing the fully erect nipple….
Unfortunately, at this point there was a loud thump from the master bedroom – the book that my wife had been reading before falling asleep some hours earlier had fallen to the floor. This jolted me out of the somewhat trance like state I had gone into and I immediately withdrew my hands and bolted from the room.
I checked on my wife who was still asleep. Even though I had serious reservations about the whole situation, I returned to Brooke’s room in the hope of continuing where we’d left off. I reached under the covers again to find that Brooke had put her boxers back on. Evidently, she’d come to the same conclusion that I had about what was going on and gently pushed my hand away. I left her room, went to mine and went to bed.
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TRIPLE FUCK FUN
The main characters are wolf hybrids. The female is wolf and human and the male is wolf/vampire. He is alpha over a wolf pack and she is his beta.
some sex but mostly story
I hope you all enjoy. and thanks for reading. comments welcome
Revised issue of Visit to Aunt April’s House with ch. 5 added. More to come soon.
A teacher makes the mistake of humiliating a student, who pays her back in the bedroom.
Tanya suffers from Catholic guilt and Ryan helps her to get over it.
True story by an abused teen boy who has since re-considered his views on forced sex
