Harriet Hotter and the Sorcerer's Bone Ch.14
by Couture
email: couture_writes@hotmail.com
(FF, denial, humiliation, fantasy)
Please do not read if under 18 years of age or offended by
sexually explicit stories and situations.
(c) 2003 Couture
***********
Harriet had learned how to work the system there at
Frogwarts. She was making good money, she had a cat that
was helping her search the castle, and she had obtained a
map of the Frogwart's to aid in the search.
Then today, when Lovelle asked Harriet how she was
adjusting to life at Frogwart's, Harriet said, "Fine,
except for that b-bi-I mean meanie Hilda."
Lovelle put her hand on Harriet's knee, and it made Harriet
think about Paige - about her mummified remains. She felt
like crying.
"Let me know if there's anything I can do," Lovelle said.
The hand on Harriet's knee felt hot and she shifted
nervously in her seat. A tiny angel, with blonde hair, a
diaphanous robe, and a cute little tilted halo appeared on
Harriet's shoulder. "Get her to help you search the
castle. With one more person helping, you can surely find
out who's behind these killings."
"Well, you know, there is something you could help me with.
. ." started Harriet, but at that moment there was a
'bamph' and hint of sulfur.
A tiny female devil appeared on Harriet's other shoulder.
She was naked and shaved down below. Her forked tail idly
caressed places it ought not to have caressed.
"Don't listen to her," the devil urged. "Get the little
bitch to help you cum."
Harriet gasped at the word bitch. God, she needed to cum.
The demoness was right.
The little angel stomped her feet. "No," she said. "Don't
listen to her. That's being selfish, and nothing good will
ever come of it."
"But you'll cum from it. And your pussy wants to cum. It
wants to cum *so bad*, doesn't it?" The tiny demoness
licked Harriet's earlobe.
'I'm going mad,' Harriet thought, shaking her head to clear
the hallucinations. 'I'm so turned on, I'm seeing things.
I need to cum - I need it so bad and who's it going to hurt
anyway? Besides, I've earned it.'
"I haven't told anyone about this," Harriet continued.
"But I haven't been able to cum the whole time I've been at
Frogwart's. I don't know if it's some kind of spell or
maybe it's guilt. Can you see if there is some sort of
magical remedy?"
"It would be my pleasure," Lovelle smiled, her eyes
twinkling. "I think I know just the thing."
***********
Back in her room, Harriet looked at the map of Frogwart's.
Blackie had made good time in inspecting the castle, but as
yet hadn't discovered anything suspicious. Harriet found
that the trouble with cats, even those that could walk
through walls, was that they were easily distracted and
Blackie was no exception. Harriet wanted him to search in
an orderly manner, but he kept missing things, and
searching in a haphazard manner. Harriet didn't know if it
was due to a spell or if by chance Blackie decided to take
a nap on a cozy chair along the way.
The dark-haired witch took out a marker and circled the
outside garden, the infirmary, and the pantry. She hoped
Blackie would see the circles and investigate. Harriet
closed her eyes and thought of Blackie. In her mind she
saw him in the kitchen, stealing a bit of leftover chicken.
"And investigate does not mean stopping in the kitchen for
a light snack," she muttered under her breath.
Well, there was no help for it, she had other
responsibilities today. It was the final training session
before the championship Macrosse match tomorrow. Harriet
picked up her gear and made her way to the field.
Even Heather showed up for practice. The other girls
looked at her dubiously, as if to say, sure, she shows up
for the championship. They made it a point not to pass it
to her. All except for Harriet.
Harriet threw her stick down in frustration. "Listen
girls, anyone on the team who thinks we aren't going to
need everything we've got, might as well throw your stick
down along with mine. I mean, why even show up? Let's
just forfeit to the blackrobes right now."
Harriet waited, but no one else threw their stick down.
She picked hers up. "Okay, let's play and win . . . as a
team!"
The girls cheered and began to practice in earnest. From
the way they practiced, you would have thought they were
playing the championship match that day. By the end of
practice, they were tired and dirty, but they were as ready
as they would ever be for the championship match.
After practice, Heather caught up with Harriet and pulled
along side of her as she walked back to the school.
"Look Harriet," Heather said. "Thanks for that back
there."
"Don't thank me." Harriet gave her roommate a little push.
"We need you. If you want to thank me, help us win."
"Don't worry, I will," said Heather. "By the way, you're
off duty tonight. No extra-curricular activities."
Harriet discovered she was a little disappointed in the
news. As much as she hated the thought of being some sort
of surrogate male prostitute, it was kind of fun getting a
chance to play someone else for awhile. Someone who wasn't
scared and shy -- someone adventurous.
"I really don't mind," said Harriet.
"No, you're off and that's final," said Heather. "Besides,
the girls would kill me if they found out."
"Oh, alright, I guess I need to save my energy for the
game." It was strange. Harriet felt like she was teaming
with energy. Her bones ached and her cunt ached too, but
it was a different kind of ache - more of a need.
Harriet trembled. She didn't even want to think about her
frustrated sex. Even the practice did little to tire her
or relieve the aching need that possessed her.
'God, I've just got to find Lovelle. I need relief and I
need it now' Harriet thought to herself.
She didn't have long to wait. Lovelle was patiently
waiting on the steps, pretending to read a book. Harriet
caught her eye then turned to Heather.
"Listen Heather, I've got some homework to finish up. I'll
see you later okay?"
"Okay," Heather said, lifting her stick in a mock salute,
before departing. "Don't study too hard. The match is
the most important thing right now. Even the teachers know
that."
'There's a lot more important things than Macrosse,'
Harriet thought. 'I would throw the match for a good cum.'
Harriet watched until Heather was safely out of sight. "I
really can't be seen with you right now," she whispered to
Lovelle.
"It's okay," Lovell said, as she got up from the steps.
"Follow me. I have something for your little problem."
Harriet's pulse quickened and she felt a thrill of pleasure
in her almost permanently aroused sex. She followed
Lovelle obediently, wishing the whole time the girl would
walk faster. She needed a cure. She needed to cum.
Lovelle led her into a room containing dusty old magic
supplies. Once there, she reached beneath her robe and
pulled out a small container. "Ta-dahhh! The answer to
your problems."
Lovelle was wrong, needing to cum was Harriet's only
problem. She had other problems as well, like how curse
words turned her on, how girls were dying and disappearing
and no one seemed to notice, and how she missed her cousin
Chloe more than just about anything in the world. Well,
one thing at a time. Harriet squeezed her thighs together
in anticipation of a much needed relief to her constant
state of arousal.
Lovelle unscrewed the lid and Harriet looked inside,
expecting to see something very magical, but only seeing a
greenish-purple salve.
"Please-please-please say I don't have to eat it," Harriet
said, wincing at what appeared to be the grossest snot wad
she had ever seen.
"You don't have to eat it," Lovelle said, as she put on a
pair of latex gloves, and scooped up a dollop of salve.
"Strip 'em off, we've got to get this on you."
Harriet stripped off her shirt, her bare nipples crinkled
in the cold damp room. She stepped out of her short
pleated skirt and looked skeptically at the latex gloves.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Trust me," Lovelle said, smiling sincerely.
Harriet pulled down her briefs, leaving her clad only in
her grass stained knee socks and cleats. At this point,
anything would be better than the continuous state of
frustrating excitement.
"Why don't you hop up on the table?" asked Lovelle, but it
came out more like an order.
Harriet climbed up on the table. She shivered as Lovelle
took a dollop of the yucky looking slime and began to coat
her nipples.
"Let's start with these perky little nips." Lovelle
massaged the salve into Harriet's contracted nipples.
There was something in Lovelle's tone that was almost
mocking and there was also the matter of how careful the
young witch was being to keep the salve off her own body
that made Harriet suspicious. The tingling sensation told
her something magical was going on, but she didn't quite
like the feeling of helplessness and dependence that was
threatening to overwhelm her.
"Ah-hah," Harriet groaned from the erotic ministrations.
"Let's stop here for right now and make sure there aren't
like any side-effects or anything."
Lovelle couldn't afford to stop now. The other black robes
were depending on her to finish the job to carryout their
plan. She knew Harriet was physically stronger than she
was, but she also had one more trick up her sleeve - she
knew of Harriet's weakness for curse words.
"Are you sure you don't want me to put some on your cunt?"
Lovelle asked.
"Ah!" Harriet gasped in pleasure as a wave of sexual
pleasure stabbed through her sex. "Don't curse . .
.please. Oh Gawd. Let's just stop okay? Just stop."
"But your naughty little slut cunt needs the gross green
magical snot, doesn't it? It looks so hungry. A hungry
little pussy mouth that needs to be finger-fucked. Mmmmmm-
doesn't it?"
"Please stop," Harriet begged, but already her body was
betraying her. She propped her cleats on the edge of the
table and spread her legs wide. This caused her ripe sex
to be pushed up and out, her moist nether lips spreading,
baring her pink insides.
Lovelle remembered they said to just use a little of the
salve, but she had already scooped up a large amount of the
gross looking slime which stuck to her gloved fingers a
trailing all the way back to the container. There wasn't
anything convenient to wipe her hand on . . . except for
Harriet's hungry sex.
"God, it looks disgusting, doesn't it, Harriet? Can you
guess where I'm going to put the nasty green slime?"
Lovelle asked in a sing-song voice. It was turning her on,
dominating the head of the Gray robes team in such a
manner, but she couldn't afford to let herself get carried
away. She had a job to do. Besides, she might
accidentally get some of the magic salve on her.
"Inside me. . ." Harriet gasped.
"Inside of what?"
"My-my-p-p-p," Harriet couldn't finish. She had descended
down in the abyss, somewhere in the depths of frustration
and unfulfilled pleasure.
"Your pussy," Lovelle finished, sinking her slime-coated
fingers into Harriet's hungry sex. "Your hot wet pussy."
"Oh my God," Harriet moaned, flexing her hips, attempting
to hump back against the young black robe's fingers. There
was a tingling in her sex, a tingling that somehow
increased her sensitivity. Somehow, it felt like her sex
was swelling.
Lovelle scooped up some more of the green slime and took
Harriet's swollen clit between her latex glove-covered
fingers and began to tug on the tiny nubbin of flesh.
"Gah!" Harriet gasped, lifting her bare ass off the table.
It was so much pleasure, yet the sensations were was almost
painful in their intensity.
"You like it?" Lovelle asked. "You like me jerking your big
fat clit, don't you?"
Yes, Harriet loved it. She needed to get off. She needed
sex - a good long fucking followed by an orgasm. She
reached forward to grab Lovelle, to pull her close, but
Lovelle pushed Harriet's fingers away. She needed to stay
in control and finish her job.
"Answer me," Lovelle demanded.
"Yes," Harriet groaned. "Yes, I like it. Oh God, I-I love
it."
"Mmmmmm- I bet you wish it was bigger, don't you? Then I
could really tug it," Lovell urged. "Tell me. Tell me you
wish it was bigger."
"Oh God. I wish it was bigger. I wish my clit was
bigger." Harriet stammered and the tingling in Harriet's
sex grew.
"Ha-ha," Lovelle laughed. She had done everything her
fellow blackrobes had asked. Even better, she had tricked
Harriet into uttering the incantation. "Gotta run sweetie.
Have fun!"
"Wait!" Harriet said. She was so close - closer than she
had been since she arrived at Frogwarts, but Lovelle was
already pulling off the gloves and preparing to leave.
"When will I be able to . . . you know . . . cum?"
From what Lovelle had been told, Harriet should be cumming
almost continually for twenty four hours starting tonight.
Long enough to immobilize the poor girl for tomorrow's
Marcrosse match, but she didn't tell Harriet that.
"Tonight," Lovelle said, as she ducked out of the small
room, leaving Harriet horny and frustrated, dripping her
moist secretions on the cold dusty desktop.
"Tonight-tonight-tonight-tonight," Harriet repeated to
herself, as she dipped a finger in her blossoming sex, and
massaging a wet fingertip on her hard nubbin of flesh.
"Tonight is a long way off."
It was only three hours away to be exact, but to Harriet it
was an eternity.
*************
After a cold shower, Harriet went back to her room and
tried to study, but she couldn't get her mind of the
tingling of her sex. She took out the map of Frogwart's
and tried to look for places that looked suspicious, but
again, her mind kept drifting back to her salivating sex.
Later, Heather extinguished the lights in the room. "Let's
go to bed early tonight. I want you rested for the game."
'At last,' Harriet thought, as her hand delved down to her
sex. 'It's time.' She began to rub her wet sex, eager for
her long awaited release. But, even as she did so, she
couldn't get the image of her roommate out of her mind.
Her blonde hair. The way her full breasts shifted beneath
the cotton shift she was wearing that night. The way she
smelled after a shower. Harriet realized she didn't want
to have the orgasm alone. She wanted to share it. She
needed to share it. Even if it was with her bitchy
roommate.
Harriet slipped out of her bed, padded barefoot over the
cold stone floor, and crawled into bed with Heather. She
straddled the sleeping girl's form, found her lips in the
dark, and kissed her. Heather was passive at first, and
then subtly, she began to return the kiss, until she gave a
sharp intake of breath at the realization of what was
happening.
Heather pulled her lips away. "What are you doing?" she
asked in an irritated tone.
"I'm horny," Harriet said, once again trying to kiss her
roommate.
Heather struggled to push her roommate away, but she soon
found she was helplessly trapped beneath her bed sheets.
"We can't," she protested. "The game. It's tomorrow."
"I know another game we could play," Harriet said, kissing
Heather's neck and then nibbling on her earlobe.
"No," Heather grunted. "I promised the other girls."
"What the other girls don't know, won't hurt them.
Besides." Harriet reached into the nightstand, felt around
until her hand came into contact with some of the gold she
had collected, and then put the cold coins to Heather's
lips.
"What's this?" asked Heather.
"Gold."
"What for?" Heather asked uncertainly.
"Tonight," Harriet said, as she peeled the bed sheets away.
"You are going to be my whore - ahhh!"
"No, I'm not -- we shouldn't - I can't - Oh God what's tha-
umpff. . ." Heather's protests were smothered by Harriet's
hungry mouth, but the question remained. What was that she
felt between Harriet's legs? She was certain Harriet
wasn't wearing her wand. She had taken it off herself.
Besides, the wand was cold and hard, but whatever was
pressing against her sex was warm and flesh-like.
Harriet's mind was a haze of arousal. She could barely
think due to the sensations she was feeling. Her thoughts
were a blur. What's that? Shouldn't be so big. What's
wrong with me? Oh God, feels so good. She's wet - and
tight. Oh my!"
If Harriet had been thinking more clearly, she would have
remembered the salve Lovelle had put on her that afternoon.
But, as it was, the only thing on her mind was that, *this*
time, she could actually feel it as she penetrated her
roommate.
"Oh God, you're tight, my little whore," Harriet panted,
before kissing Heather deeply. "So wet and tight."
Heather didn't like being called a whore. After all, it
was Harriet who was her whore, not the other way around.
She needed to get control of the situation, but the feel of
Harriet's strong lithe body thrusting against her own made
her feel so weak - so yielding. And whatever it was she
felt in her sex, so hot and lifelike, she wanted more. .
.she wanted a lot more. She surrendered to the submissive
feelings and wrapped her legs around Harriet's hips, and
pulled the young brunette tight.
Heather's small single bed protested loudly under the
weight of the girls' straining bodies. Towards the end,
Heather gasped, her chest heaved, out of breath from the
constant onslaught of orgasms her roommate had induced. As
for poor Harriet, the salve had made her much more
sensitive to pleasure. Her nipples stuck out from her
chest like small pinky fingers. The lips of her sex were
swollen and her formerly tiny pearl had blossomed into a
four-inch appendage. If not for the earlier spell, Harriet
would have joined Heather again and again in blissful
release. Instead, she was overcome with an ever growing
feeling of frustration.
"You're my whore aren't you?" asked Harriet.
"Yes - yes," panted Heather. "Oh God yes."
"And you're going to give me good value for my gold?"
"Yes- yes," Heather repeated, oblivious to the questions
being asked.
"Then eat me," Harriet barked, as she extricated herself
from her roommate's grasp and planted her crotch atop the
blonde girl's pouting lips.
Heather struggled futilely against her much stronger
roommate. This wasn't what she wanted at all. Heather
really didn't consider herself gay or even bisexual. The
whole time Harriet had made love to her, she imagined
herself being taken despite her protests by a young dark-
haired suitor. But there enveloped beneath Harriet's
swollen and musky sex, it was impossible to imagine herself
doing anything other than what she was doing . . . making
love to another girl.
Heather reluctantly opened her mouth. She didn't have much
choice as Harriet had her by the hair and rudely ground
against her. 'Disgusting,' she thought, she felt she was
going to drown in the dark-haired witch's musky secretions.
Then Heather's mouth came into contact with something hard.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, her hungry lips parting and swallowing
Harriet's enlarged clit. The present became a murky haze
as once again her fantasies overwhelmed her. Once again
she was with her dark haired suitor, a slender prince come
to sweep her off her feet.
"Ugh," Harriet groaned, running her hands down Heather's
back and grabbing each of the girl's tender mounds of
bottom flesh. "You like that don't you? On your knees
sucking, trying to make a buck. . ."
Heather shook her head frantically, as she moaned from
around the tender shaft of flesh. Her fantasy had taken a
turn for the worse. Instead of a prince, it was a dirty
soldier and she was on her knees in a dark alley, blowing
him. Worse, she imagined that Harriet was watching them
both, masturbating herself beneath her black robe.
The dream Harriet shrugged and her black robe fell from her
shoulders. She looked older and a white streak stained her
dark hair. Her body was fuller, more beautiful. On her
pelvis, her flame-shaped beauty mark shown in the
moonlight, but what caught Heather's eyes was the cock
which swung from Harriet's crotch. It was large, thick as
a wrist, with full balls hanging from her sack. It
radiated evil, yet it sent an irresistible shiver of
pleasure through Heather's sex.
In the dream Harriet smiled snidely and looked down
condescendingly at Heather. "White robe slut, I'm going to
fuck the life out of you and suck you dry. Ha-hah, as I
recall, you liked it up the arse. I wonder if you'll still
feel that way afterwards."
Heather knew it meant her death. She wanted to plead for
her life. Instead, her arms reached back and opened the
cheeks of her bottom, even as her mind screamed. "Fuck me.
Fuck me anyway you want me. Take me. Take my arse."
"You want me to take your arse?" Harriet asked in
disbelief, taking a wet finger and slipping it into
Heather's rosebud.
"What - ugh - oh!" Heather gasped. What had happened?
Where had she been? The images from her fantasy had seemed
so real. Her knees still hurt from the cobblestone alley.
She had no time to ponder such thoughts, the finger in her
tight rear hole was relentless and the feeling was
delicious. The finger was withdrawn and she felt something
larger pressing against her tight grommet.
"Oh-oh-oh-oh-my!" Heather squealed as Harriet drove it
home.
"God Heather," Harriet gasped. "You are one hot girl. And
you have a wonderfully tight arse."
"Oh Harriet - oh Harriet," Heather whined. "Hie-hie-oh-
hie-I love it. I love it. I love you, hie-hie-give it to
me. Fuck my arse. Fuck me all night long."
To be continued. . .
*************
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