Penthuisiast
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SD: CH106 - When Dreams Come True
🕑 Added 2024-02-29 18:02:58 +0000 UTCSurreal.
It was in the middle of the night. Penelope was in William Weasley’s room, while the Weasleys and Hermione were deep asleep. The only exception to that was Percival, who was currently lying on the floor, frozen under her petrifaction hex, plus a supersensory charm to ensure he got a ‘larger-than-life’ experience.
And she was in Harry Potter’s arms.
But that wasn’t the surreal part. The surreal thing about it was that unlike the other times, this was no dream. This was real.
For the first time, her visions were coming true.
She breathed in anticipation as Harry Potter jerked the belt of her robe open and tore it down off her shoulders. The silk whispered as it fell to the ground. His eyes roamed her curves, taking in her round breasts, which were admittedly on the smaller side compared to Hermione Granger, something she had despised on principle — to the rest of her body, her nipples peaking under his gaze. For a moment, she wanted to cover up, to avoid his searching gaze, but then he touched her with those strong hands, and all thoughts of shyness vanished.
He was rough, but gentle lovemaking was the last thing on Penelope’s mind. He caressed her breasts, stopping to twist and pinch each nipple into a stinging point, making her groan with each jolt of pain. She reached for the buttons of his shirt, but he slapped her hands away, unbuttoning it himself and tossing it aside.
His body was exactly how she remembered: toned, hard, with a sprinkling of dark hair across his powerful chest. Penelope wanted to touch him, to take her time, licking her way down to that oh-so-sexy spot where his abs met his hip, but he held her wrists in one hand as he pulled his pants down and stepped out of it.
Penelope gasped, seeing his erection, stiff and huge, the tip already glistening with precum, ready to bury itself between her legs. She squirmed in his grasp, needing him right then and there, wanting him more than she thought was possible. He released her hands just long enough to position himself properly and then threw her hands around his neck.
“Clasp your hands together, and don’t let go. Understand?”
It was an order, and her body tingled at his domineering tone, ready and eager to please.
“Yes, Sir.”
She didn’t know why she said it, but she was incredibly glad she did. The look on his face was one of pure animal lust, as she did as he demanded, holding her hands together behind his neck, bracing herself against his broad shoulders.
He picked her up with a growl and impaled him with one hard thrust. Penelope screamed as the thick, powerful cock stretched her insides, filling her painfully, giving her no time to adjust herself against its sheer size. There was no foreplay, only this, and it was exactly what she craved.
“Is this what you want?” he gritted in her ear.
Penelope gasped in response as he began pumping in and out of her, his hands supporting her arse, bobbing her up and down on his erection with a strength that bordered on superhuman. She held on for dear life, helpless as he bucked up against her, hitting her hard with each thrust of his hips.
“Answer me! Did you want this, little mouse? Is this what you wanted?”
He dug his fingers into her skin, bruising her, but she didn’t care. Her body felt like it was on fire, filled with the sensations of this man’s violent lovemaking, and it was unfathomable. The only thing remotely close to sex that she had had was with Percy, and it had been less pleasant and more of a derogatory experience, leaving her feeling utterly unsatisfied and upset. Her toes curled behind his back as he drove into her again and again and again.
“Ye— yes!” She screamed.
“Tell me!” He demanded again. “Is this why you’ve been sloppy at work? To make me punish you like this?”
“Y-yes! Yes! YES!”
Her voice was high. Breathless. She felt like she was riding a storm, with each thrust getting her closer and closer to being struck by lightning. He bucked over her over and over, and time seemed to stand still as she succumbed to his will, trusting him to hold her as he drove into her again and again.
Then suddenly, Harry Potter unclasped her arms from his neck and grabbed her waist, flipping her over. She yelled in surprise as her feet hit the ground, and he bent her over, her arse sticking up high in the air. He grabbed her hands and pulled her wrists together again with one hand.
“You follow every single command from now on. Understand?”
“Yes!”
His hand came down hard on one arse cheek, and she yelped at the sharp jolt of pain.
“The next time some fucker tries to demean you, you curse them until they realize they’re nothing more than a waste of their daddies’s sperm.”
“Yes!”
He hit her again on the same spot, and Penelope let out a moan. Her pussy ached to be filled with his cock again, the sweet burn only amplifying her need. This… this was everything she had expected and more, so much more.
“When we are together, you can be my little mouse. But outside, you will be my feral eagle. Understand?”
“YES!”
His hand came down again and again, the sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberating throughout the room.
Penelope could almost hear him smile behind him, but before she could turn and look, he thrust into her once more. She wailed mindlessly as he began fucking her, harder and harder, faster and faster, taking her then and there like she was his to use and always had been. He pulled at her wrists, making her arch, helpless to resist the onslaught of his majestic cock slamming into her insides.
When one hand snaked around her hips and pinched her clit hard, Penelope screamed, the bite of the sensation taking her right to the edge, his hard cock taking me tumbling over. She fell apart beneath him, moaning as she convulsed around him again and again, milking him even as he railed against her.
He released her wrists and gripped her arse as he pumped into her once, twice, three more times, abusing her already tender flesh. He groaned behind her, and she sighed, as she felt him cum, his cock twitching inside her as her pussy gripped it, still pulsing from the strength of her own orgasm.
“Good girl…” he said, catching his breath, above her. “Good girl.”
Penelope smiled.
When she woke up, Penelope found herself draped across the bed, with her legs still on the ground, her wet and abused pussy oozing Harry Potter’s cum out of it. Said cum was running down her legs alongside her own juices, all the way down to her ankles, which were just next to Percy’s face. Seeing the furious expression on her ex-boyfriend's face, she snorted, and pushed herself up, and met the smirking face of Harry Potter, sitting on a chair, as if waiting for her to wake up.
He conjured a bedsheet out of thin air for her. She grabbed it.
“Thank you,” she said, and they both knew it wasn’t for the sheet.
He smiled at her, his dimples breathtaking in the light.
“Is this what you want, Penelope?” He asked. “I’m not a gentle man. Not the Harry Potter people think I am.”
Penelope put a hand on her backside, feeling the sweet pain where he had struck him, and bit her lip.
“Yes, I want this,” she said. “I want you.”
She had never been this blunt or this direct about her wants before this. She never had the opportunity to do it either. It was a bolder version of Penelope Clearwater who admitted what she craved, and said what she felt. Even so, she didn’t think she would have been able to stand it if he didn’t want her in the same way.
“I cannot marry you, or be with you in any other way except as a lover. You will still be my employee, and I will remain your boss. Whatever happens between us behind doors shall stay behind doors.”
Penelope felt a sting in her heart, but it was something she had expected to happen anyway. “I know. I know about it all. How you are with Granger or the others. And I… I saw you, in the dungeons, with Miss Jones.”
Harry Potter arched an eyebrow. “The dungeons —”
“Are off-limits,” finished Penelope. “But I was breaking the rules in hopes for you to punish me.”
It was exhilarating, freely speaking her mind like that. Without care of the consequences. Her eyes widened as Harry Potter stood up and approached her, and her heartbeat sped up. It went double as he grabbed her face and pulled her into a searing kiss.
“I called you a ‘mouse’ on the very first day, but even then, I saw a fire in your eyes. But I could also tell that you longed for someone to trust. For someone to take control of you. But Penelope… this isn’t something that you can just forget. Even if I memory-charm you, your body will remember things. You will want it in your dreams. This… this will change your life forever. Once you submit, there is no going back.”
Penelope didn’t understand. What was he so hesitant about? Did he really think she was that frail?
“That night I went to the dungeons, I saw how you punished Miss Jones. Can you… can you punish me like that? If I cannot bear it, then I’ll walk away. But if I can then…” She licked her lips. “Please?”
His eyes, usually so full of confidence, were darkened by a strange doubt, and she realised that he too was hesitant like she was. Afraid that she would say no and walk out.
She took Harry Potter’s hand.
“Show me.”
She could swear something shifted within Harry Potter, and in a flash, he conjured a large metal swing suspended from the ceiling by heavy duty metal hooks, the leather straps on the side ending in cuffs that she eyed with longing. These… These were the same that she had seen Hestia wear when she was being punished. Harry Potter then lifted her into it as if she weighed practically nothing, then moving down to spread her legs wide, strapping her ankles in with the supple leather.
She was open before him, nothing hidden from his gaze. She saw hunger burning in his eyes, as his gaze raked over her body. He flicked his fingers and with a swoosh, Percy’s petrified body shifted right under her wet pussy. Penelope stifled a laugh, realising that he was perfectly positioned to face her naked pussy, and every bit of her juices would be falling on his face.
“Welcome to my world,” said Harry Potter, and Penelope trembled, closing her eyes and nodding.
Something black and leather caressed her shoulder, then moved down, sliding down her chest. Opening her eyes, she glanced down and saw it was the end of a riding crop, and she tensed, her heart hammering in her chest, flashes of that crop hitting Hestia Jones coming up in her mind. The screams she made, the sound of that crop against her raw flesh, and the sheer eroticism of the moment, all of that merged with the feeling of the crop moving downward, tracing the curves of her breasts. Harry Potter held her neck straight, so that she could watch each movement.
“In my world, pain is pleasure.”
He flicked the crop, slapping the leather down sharply onto one nipple. Penelope threw her head back and screamed at the sharp sting, and his hand tightened around her throat.
“Suffering is sweet.”
His wrist flicked again, snapping the head of the crop against the soft tissue of the other breast. She whimpered, tears burning in her eyes.
“I use you as I please. I give you pain when it pleases me, and pleasure when you deserve it. Do you understand that, slave?”
Another snap, this time on the left nipple again.
“YES!”
Another snap, on the right one.
“YES! YES! I UNDERSTAND!:”
Snap went to the left. Then the right.
“YES! YES I UNDERSTAND! I UNDERSTAND MASTER!”
He let her throat go, and Penelope gasped for air, the intense pain flooding through her entire body, and yet she felt far more alive than ever. Harry Potter moved to one side, looming over her, and ran the crop lower, toying with her, tracing the curve of her hip before tracing the inside of her thigh. Penelope felt so helpless, unable to move, waiting for the next blow to fall, wondering what it would feel like, and fearing it all the same.
“When we are like this,” said Harry Potter. “You are my slave, and I, your Master.”
“Yessir, I mean, yes, Master.”
The crop whipped down, sending blazing pain spidering over her inner thigh. Penelope pulled against the cuffs, writhing beneath him, unable to cover herself. Despite the pain, her body was heating more and more with each blow, her sex dripping against the edge of the swing.
And directly on Percy’s face.
“Do you understand, Penelope? Do you truly understand?”
Tears trailed down her cheeks, but she had never felt this alive. Her body was on fire, sensations sharper than they’d ever been before, lighting up her nerves. The leather against her back felt decadent, the cuffs pleasantly snug, and the red marks on her breasts and thigh sensual and obscene.
The crop traced the spread lips of her pussy, making her moan. Her feet strained against the cuffs, but whether she wanted to close her legs or spread them wider, she wasn’t sure. At the same time, there was a mounting dread as to what would happen if that crop hit her pussy. She would absolutely die from the pain, she was sure of that.
“Tell me, slave, do you deserve pleasure?”
She wanted to say yes. Oh, how she wanted to say yes. She opened her mouth to speak —
“N—no, sir….”
He chuckled darkly. The crop tapped lightly on her clit, making her bite back a yell. Jolts of awareness surged through her, pain and pleasure mixing until they were indistinguishable. All she felt was the intensity, and her body reacted, making her shiver.
“And why is that?”
Penelope thought about how badly she wanted to take him in her mouth, to run her lips and tongue over him. To feel him shudder inside of her, as she gave him release. As she made him happy.
“Because I haven’t… I haven’t pleased you, Master.”
Harry Potter laughed. “But you have pleased me, slave. You have followed my directions, and your training is going well so far.”
The crop tapped her lower lips in a staccato rhythm, making her wail as the burning washed over her once again.
“In fact, I think you’ve earned a reward — my cock ramming deep inside your sweet pussy. Would you like that, slave?”
Penelope wanted it badly. She could barely speak. “Please,” she said. “Master.”
Harry grinned, the hunger in his eyes making him look wolfish, like a predator eyeing his prey. For the first time since she had met him, Penelope understood why Hermione Granger, already uppity and stubborn without those werewolf instincts, bent before Harry Potter so easily. Here was a true monster, one that did not need lycanthropy to release his inner ferality. He leaned to a side, and conjured a thin chain in his hands, with a small, silver clamp on each end.
Even in her delirious state, Penelope noted the ease with which he had conjured metal, specifically silver, which was ridiculously difficult to conjure in the first place. Even transfigured silver was far, far inferior than the real thing.
He pinched her nipples again, making her moan, before attaching a clamp to each one. Penelope cried out as they snapped into place, and bit her lip at the way they felt — each one creating a sensual ache that made her need him even more desperately.
“You look so beautiful like this,” Harry Potter breathed, moving between her legs. “Bound for me. Chained…”
She heard him unzip his pants, and wished that she could reach down and stroke him to hardness and guide him inside her. Instead she stared into his piercing green eyes as he positioned himself, and gasped in pleasure as she felt the tip pushing into her, stretching her wide for him.
He slammed into her, then, sheathing himself inside her in one sure stroke. Penelope cried out as he reached out and gripped the chain attached to the clamped nipples, yanking sharply as he began moving in and out. She screamed at the pain, then panted, her eyes closing at the intensity of the sensations coursing through her.
It was like nothing she had ever felt before. Not even watching him do something similar to Hestia Jones had prepared her for this. With each pump of Harry Potter’s, her Master’s rod inside her, she felt fireworks going off behind her eyes, making her soar in sparks of desire, the flames ensconcing her, burning the old her as the new one rose from the ashes, terrifying and beautiful.
A new woman. A new beginning. A new… Penelope.
“Yes, slave. Take it all. All that I have to give you,” he growled, pulling the swing back onto him, using her body like a toy. His toy.
He jerked the chain again, and Penelope wailed like an animal, her inhibitions flowing out of her like water as he took control. She let go, giving herself over as he fucked her harder, savouring each moment, each different texture of lovemaking, each sting and pulse, each jolt and caress.
She squeezed around her master, already on the edge again, unbelieving even as she accepted it was possible with this man. Everything was possible with Harry Potter.
“Come for me, Penelope,” he commanded, and released the nipple clamps, creating a wave of aching pain, as the blood rushed back.
She did as she was told, shaking with the force of it as her pleasure crashed over her, sweeping her away, rocking her body as it rocked her mind, tearing away all of my old notions of what sex could be, should be.
She heard him groan, and felt him cumming inside her, the thought bringing her to another high, as she knew she had finally pleased him. Her boss. Her master. Harry Potter.
She must have blacked out for a moment, but when her eyes fluttered open, he was there, rubbing her wrists in his strong hands as he vanished the cuffs, and then moved to her ankles, releasing her. He lifted her gently out of the swing, vanished the entire thing, and carried her to the bed, pulling the soft pillow beneath her head. He kissed her hair and neck, and then trailed soft kisses across her forehead and cheeks .
“How do you feel?” He asked, his voice full of concern.
She smiled sleepily and leaned against him, overcome by the feelings bubbling up inside her.
“Good. Different… but good.”
“That’s my girl.”
He tilted her head up and kissed her lips softly, making her melt at the tenderness of it, after what they had just done.
“I was worried you might not be able to take it. With me. Like this.”
She looked into his eyes. There was a strange startling uncertainty in them.
“Of course not.”
He kissed her hair again, and set her down. Pulling his wand out, he summoned a black pouch from his robes, and pulled out a purple, velvety box, handing it over to her.
“Open it. It is for you.”
Penelope lifted the lid, and gasped at what lay within. There was a thin, black, leather collar and beside it, a gorgeous platinum choker, dotted with winking diamonds, a tiny charm hanging from the front in the shape of a lock. It must have been worth a fortune.
She had no words.
“Every good slave needs a collar, Penelope. If you are to be mine, you’ll need one when we play. Hestia has hers, as you probably know.”
She bobbed her head. Her mind was pinning already, looking at the collar in her hands, her body tingling from head to toe. It was expensive, no doubt, but more important than it, its symbolism was far, far deeper. If she accepted this, she would be collared. She would be his slave. His woman. His.
Like Hestia Jones.
But, a cold part of her whispered. Hermione Granger doesn’t have a collar, does she? So if I do… I will have something she doesn’t.
The exhilaration she felt from that thought made her smile.
“You don’t have to answer right now,” said Harry Potter. “But I need an answer before I leave for Hogwarts. Rest now, Penelope, while I deal with our little intruder.”
Grabbing her collar tightly in her hands, Penelope nodded and leaned against the pillows, feeling tired and sore and delicious all over, the soft ache between her legs and in the peaks of her breasts leaving sweet reminders of his touch.
Harry Potter snapped his fingers, and the petrification hex on Percy was undone. The boy instantly pushed himself up and began speaking but no words came out of his lips. A gagging and silencing hex, she realised.
“You have three options, Percy. The first, you voluntarily consent to an Unbreakable Vow where you swear yourself to silence about everything you have seen and learnt here in this room tonight. That way I don’t let my bad side come out, and you don’t have to suffer. Sounds pleasant, right?”
He snapped his fingers again, and Percy realised he could speak.
“And the — the others?”
Penelope grinned. She had expected Percy to say something obnoxious the very moment he’d be allowed to speak. Instead, it looked like he understood what kind of peril he was in.
“The second option is that you decide that you are too wimpish for an Unbreakable Vow, in which case you voluntarily consent to getting your memories of whatever happened here removed.”
“But — but you are just starting your fourth year. Obliviation is—”
“Beyond my ability?” asked Harry Potter, twirling his wand in his hand. “Well in that case, you just need to hope I cast the spell properly and not turn you into a complete vegetable. It’s a little extreme, I agree, but not unpleasant. You will just remember that you slept soundly for the entire night. Maybe you’ll feel a headache in the morning, but still, nothing unpleasant, right?”
Percy swallowed. “And the third?”
Harry smiled predatorily. “You fight me, in which case I hex and bind you in this place. And then I forcefully obliviate you, and compel you into being Penelope’s bitch for the rest of your life. Now that’s gonna be a little unpleasant.”
The look of horror on her ex’s face was a spectacle to watch.
“So,” said a beaming Harry Potter, offering a hand. “Which will you choose?”
Comments
Hadrian v.E.
Watching Weasel suffer? Good, good. However, as it is with my review for a previous chapter, I hope you really speed things up. I don't want 10+ chapters for a single or several days. Get to the good stuff already, like Fleur and the public getting a taste of Harry 2.0 by witnessing him being a BAMF at the QWC.
Victor Weismann
Hmm, I can't help but think that you're out of creativity to continue this novel... How about starting another one? In the Harry Potter universe, I would read anything you posted, your writing is really good.
