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lightofdayeTitle:Creating Your Happy Memories
Threesome/Moresome:Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter/Pansy Parkinson
Additional Characters/Pairings:Cho Chang, Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnigan, A Patil/Unknown Blonde, Blaise Zabini/Ginny Weasley/Terry Boot, Accented Blonde/Romilda Vane, Other Patil/Justin Finch-Fletchly, Lavender Brown/Draco Malfoy
Word Count: 5,878
Rating: NC-17
Contains (Highlight to view):*Threesomes, Duh. PWP. Sex club. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism. Bondage. Double penetration. Deep-throat oral. Sixty-nine. BDSM. Femdom. Collars. Boot worship. Banter. Toys. Anal play. D/s. Dirty talk. Spanking. Strap-on. Anal. Reference to pegging. Aftercare.*
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Daphne searches the Wizarding World's first sex club for someone to go home with but is all as it seems?
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_3somes's Gift Exchance Fest. Thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
torino10154 for advice and beta-reading the piece.
Links:Original Fest Post | AO3
Daphne Greengrass paused for a moment, hovering just outside the club’s entrance, still not quite believing what she was planning to do tonight. She acted as if she was just admiring the sign, which was quite believable since the sign was spectacular. It was always better to mix as much truth in with your lies as possible, Daphne found.
The sign was discreet enough considering what was inside. A wooden plaque with silver letters engraved into it. The letters gleamed brightly as if they were reflecting the non-existent moonlight of the cloudy overcast night. The letters read: “The Patronus Club – Creating Your Happy Memories”. Above the words was an engraving of animal that changed every few seconds. Daphne watched as an owl flapped its wings until it became an excitable little dog of some kind that chased it tail before it reared up as a cobra, flashing its fangs. Daphne jolted in surprise and realised she’d been hesitating too long. She was nervous about heading into the club, but then she wasn’t here for herself.
She pushed the door open and darted inside the club. A surprisingly matronly woman with iron gray hair manned the desk inside and looked entirely unsurprised; neither at Daphne’s slightly flustered demeanour nor at the couple of Galleons entrance fee she paid in cold hard cash. No one here really wanted to leave a parchment trail after all. Then she continued onwards into the Patronus club proper.
The club was a maze of tables, various kinds of chairs and small stages. People flowed around the club: from the bar to the seats, some of them observed the stages closely, others preferred to settle and watch at a distance. Any discussion that took place did so in soft, intimate whispers and low voices and occasionally a pair or trio or small group came to an agreement and headed off together: out of the club via the door or Floo, up to one of the club’s many private upstairs rooms or taking to a stage themselves.
It took Daphne a while to notice these things however because as soon as she entered the club she’d been confronted with a magnificent arse. Just inside the door, a woman was on her knees on a patch of especially thick carpet with her head and arms restrained in a thick wooden stock. Given her positioning, backside placed firmly towards the entrance the woman had clearly volunteered to be used by anyone who walked in the door. And, seeing a sliver of face beyond the stocks and between falls of shiny black hair, Daphne suddenly recognised Cho Chang. The Quidditch player’s bum really was nice and between her cheeks and framed by some fantastic toned leg, the darker lips of her pussy glistened with excitement. Daphne licked her lips and gazed hard for a second before tearing her eyes away and heading onwards into the wizarding world’s first sex club.
Founded in what Daphne could only call an excess of post-war euphoria, the club had over the last five years gained a reputation has the happening night spot for young witches and wizards as well as a place where everyone welcome. Daphne had never quite let herself believe that, but as she walked deeper in the den of debauchery she started to realise it was true: she was seeing more and more people she recognised.
Two Gryffindors she knew by sight if not by name passed her, a sandy haired man and his apparently now more than, best friend with their hands in each other’s back pockets as they headed up to a private room. The club it seemed catered to all sorts. Some people, even those not on a stage, had trouble restraining themselves even that much. Daphne saw one of the Patil twins slumped in one of the softer chairs. Her mouth was slightly parted, her breathing was deep and her hands were combing through the blonde hair of the woman eating her out under the table. Daphne had no chance of recognising her, though, between the table and how the woman had buried her head between Patil’s thighs; the blonde hair was all that Daphne could see of her.
Moving onwards, Daphne saw that one particular area seemed to be attracting something of a crowd and when she caught sight of what they were watching Daphne could quite understand why.
Many straps of dark fabric hung down from the ceiling reaching down to support a young athletic woman, who laid on her back in the sex swing with men pounding into her from both ends.
Ginny Weasley certainly seemed to be enjoying the single life, surrounded by admirers. Her legs were spread wide and hoisted over the hips of the dark haired man fucking her cunt. Terry Boot gripped her tight around the waist, his fingers dug into her hips, pushing and pulling her to and fro.
Any sound the woman might have made though was muffled out at the other end, where her lips were wrapped around Blaise Zabini’s thick cock. She had to arch her head backwards to take it and Daphne could see her throat work each time she swung towards Blaise as she swallowed him and see the coating of saliva shine on Blaise’s cock when she was swung away.
Blaise himself was quite a sight, Daphne admitted. She’d never seen someone look quite so composed especially when entirely naked. He almost seemed to be striking a pose, one hand wrapped around the harness guiding its motion, while another one fondling Weasley’s breast. His dark muscles rippled and gleamed as he moved, pushing himself down the girl’s throat, her red hair falling in a great stream between his legs.
Daphne only stopped looking when she realised Blaise was looking back at her, his dark eyes glittering in amusement. His lips gave the slightest twitch and he raised an eyebrow as he made the tiniest of nods towards the harness. Between Slytherins it was practically bellowing; ‘Did she fancy a turn where Ginny was?’ Daphne glowered back, realising Blaise was not the only man there casting covetous looks her way. Daphne’s stance straightened, the last of her nerves gone and she turned and sauntered away from the trio’s stage. She was fascinated by the two restrained women she had seen: they gave her no end of good ideas but she had not the slightest inclination to be in their position.
Quite the reverse in fact.
Daphne circled the club and started to find an area much more to her liking. The stage in this part of the club had another two witches in it who were locked in a sixty-nine position. The witch on top looked just old enough to be there and had long shiny silvery hair. While the witch beneath her was dark haired and skinned, had a strong chin and simply looked ecstatic to be there from what Daphne could see. The blonde girl took a moment to murmur encouragingly in a deep accent.
“Hmm, yes, keep that up, Rommie, dearest.”
Nor was this area lacking in woman taking charge. Daphne saw the other Patil in here as well leading a collared posh-looking gentleman that might well be called Justin, for all she knew, upstairs by his leash. Daphne felt an intense surge of curiosity about how that pairing was going to turn out but she supposed their desire for privacy had to be respected.
A single couple was not quite so shy however. In fact they were a contrast in more way than one. The man was slender and pale, from his white skin to his white-gold hair, the woman he was kneeling in front of was tall, wearing thigh boots in white leather (and hardly anything else) but her skin was a deep rich brown colour and the nipples capping her generous tits were black and hard.
Smirking, Daphne watched her future brother-in-law lick Lavender Brown’s boots clean. She was quite sure her sister neither knew nor cared how Draco sowed his wild oats before their wedding. Once they’d tied the knot, Astoria was going to very firmly stake her claim. Yet Daphne couldn’t help watch and think about the sheer potential of holding this over Malfoy’s head.
Nor was she the only one paying attention to the pair. There was one man also watching the couple intently, perhaps from further back than most of the other observers had been but still very definitely interested. Interesting, Daphne thought, doing a double take. Did she even dare set her cap at him? It was a silly question, even inside her head. She’d never been able to turn down a challenge. As soon as she’d realised the man really was who he appeared to be, her decision had been made.
The man was nursing a tankard of something and had combed his dark hair over one side of his forehead, not quite managing to obscure the lightning bolt scar there. The other customers all seemed to be giving him a wide berth so that when she slipped on to the sofa next to him and said:
“I can’t decide. Do you think I’m underdressed or overdressed for in here?”
-he jumped and stared at her with a hilarious mixture of surprise and bafflement.
“I mean this isn’t the kind of outfit I’d usually go out in,” Daphne continued gesturing at her ruffled turquoise blouse and loose khaki trousers. “But then I’m wearing a lot more than some people have got on. Like her; to pick an example entirely at random.”
Harry Potter’s eyes followed her second gesture back to Lavender Brown’s (lack of) outfit, he blushed slightly and his gaze seemed to have some trouble returning to her when he spoke.
“Well, that depends on what you’re here for I guess,” he said. His voice was hesitant, as if he didn’t use it much inside the club.
“What a question,” Daphne laughed. “And if I may be as bold as to return it: What are you here for, all alone? I’d have thought people would be swarming all over you.” She smirked. “For any number of reasons.”
Potter shrugged at her.
“I don’t like being swarmed. Especially when I don’t know their intentions.”
“Depends,” Daphne laughed. “What kind of intentions do you want me to have?” She motioned her head back towards Malfoy and Lavender Brown. “Anyway I was just trying to figure out which one of them you fancied?”
“I don’t fancy either of them!” Potter said rather too quickly.
“Of course not,” Daphne said smoothly, “I meant fancy being, of course.”
“Same thing, really.”
“Well, almost. I suppose. But really do you see yourself. Standing over someone? On your knees?”
Their green eyes met. Harry Potter’s brilliant emerald eyes bored into her sea-green ones. He said nothing for a long moment. He opened his mouth for a second but then took a swig of drink, instead. Daphne was beginning to think she pressed her luck too far when he blurted out:
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Daphne cocked her head.
“What a fascinating answer.”
“Look, I end up bossing people about a lot at work,” Potter said, words now spilling out of him in a rush. “And I might even be good at it in the bedroom, I don’t know, but I do know that maybe I want something different.”
“Something like Ms Brown’s act over there?” she said lightly. They paused to gaze at her once again. She’d ordered Draco onto his back now and spread and pushed his legs apart and back so he was bent in half. His rock hard cock was pointed back down at his own flushed faced and he bit a lip as Lavender worked the tip of a glass dildo into his arse.
“Lavender?” Potter crocked and then clearly forced a chuckle. “I knew her at sixteen, there’s no way I could take her seriously. Even with that t-toy.” His voice faltered as he gazed at the fake cock again.
“Oh, I get it,” Daphne said, shifting closer to him. “You don’t think she’d be mean enough. Don’t think she’d be convincing.”
Potter nodded.
“Not the same way, say, a former Slytherin might be?” She leant in, feeling her blouse part slightly to give him a look at her self-admitted fantastic tits, her hands traced a line on his chest, feeling muscle underneath his shirt. “An old rival? Someone who may or may not still hate your guts.”
Her fingers tensed, digging her nails into him and drawing out a shocked gasp.
“Maybe, I’ll take you home. Let you play with my toys, how does that sound?” she said, her lips hovering near his ear now.
“I wasn’t being serious,” Potter said in what seemed like a last ditch effort to evade her. Daphne might have been disappointed if he wasn’t so clearly affected by her and if he wasn’t just so right for her plans.
“I was,” she said in the voice and, with a sudden movement, slung a leg over him, moving to straddle him. “Of course, I’ll need to take you for a test ride first.”
She pressed her lips to his mouth and her tongue plunged into his mouth, tangling with his. He tasted of ale and a hint of treacle and he murmured in surprise pleasure into her mouth. Grinding down on him, Daphne only felt his cock stiffen and press against her when she caught his wrists in each hand and pinned his arms to the wall.
Their kiss broke and she gazed down on him with a suddenly hungry expression.
“God, you’re just perfect, aren’t you, Harry? And you’re coming home with me.”
Harry didn’t argue.
~~~
Harry Potter stepped out of the fire into Daphne Greengrass’s living room and paused; still not quite believing what he was currently doing. He never accepted invitations at the Patronus Club, not to find a private room, certainly not to take to a stage and never to go home with anyone. It was his rule; he didn’t want to risk it.
Yet here he was and his heart was pumping at three times its normal rate at least. He was getting that fidgety excited feeling in his stomach he used to get before a Quidditch match, or before raids with the Aurors when he hadn’t been flying a desk, or during the death defying escapades that marked his school years. What was wrong with him? Was Daphne right? Was he just turned on by danger? That the idea that the woman might not have his interests at heart? He didn’t know. Right now, he wasn’t sure he cared.
Daphne at least showed absolutely no hesitation at all. She took his coat and hung it up and directed him to kick off his shoes and leave them by the grate.
“Come on. Let’s get you comfortable.”
She might have sensed his hesitance for the grip that closed on his upper arm was surprisingly strong and brooked no disobedience as she ushered him through her halls to her bedroom. Harry thought it was strange that the lights of her bedroom were already lit. He hadn’t seen her use her wand to light them either. Then she pulled him past her threshold and Harry saw a sight that took his breath away.
Daphne Greengrass’s bed was not empty. It was already occupied. More than occupied: a young woman was attached to it. Pink fluffy handcuffs were locked round each wrist and a long chain wove in and out of an intricately carved headboard before it reached the other cuff.
That wasn’t the worst part. He recognised her. It shouldn’t have been a surprise considering whose home he was in but it was.
“Is that who I think it is?” he said hoarsely.
But Daphne only put a finger to her lips and shushed him as she lead him up to the side of her bed. The fact remained that Pansy Parkinson was lying chained to Daphne’s bed, wearing nothing but a sleeping mask and her underwear. Her bra and knickers were both incongruously white with the knickers and top of the bra’s cup lined with frilly pink fabric.
“Who’s there?” Pansy said in a worried tone. But the quaver on her voice was quickly lost. “About time you got back, Mistress, I’ve been waiting for hours.”
“What is this? You left her here locked up, helpless alone?” Harry said rounding on Daphne.
“Of course, I get to do whatever I want to her,” Daphne said in a stern voice.
“And what if something happened?” Harry said glaring.
Daphne glared back for a moment with perhaps greater intensity then her expression softened. Harry had the feeling a veil being lifted from her.
“It’s just a game we play, Harry, like at the club, I thought you got that. Look on the headboard there. See her wand? She can easily reach that if she wants to get out. But she doesn’t want to see? Doesn’t mean we’re not being safe, okay?” she said gently and softly so Pansy couldn’t hear.
Slowly Harry nodded.
“So we get to do whatever we want to do to her. Unless she says ‘Quibbler’. That’s her safeword. She says that and we stop straight away and let her out of anything she may be in. Get it?”
Harry nodded again.
“Got it?” Daphne repeated.
“Her safeword is Quibbler. If she says it we stop immediately, I get it,” Harry said calmly.
“Right. Let’s go then.” Daphne strode over to the bed.
“This isn’t what you said we were going to do,” Harry hissed floating along in her wake.
“Now, now,” Daphne said, more loudly again in what Harry now realised was her ‘domme voice’ if that was the right word. “I said we’d play with my toy. This is my toy.”
“Hey, I’m so not your toy, Mistress! Pet! We agreed on pet,” Pansy complained. “And who are you talking to?”
“Toy, Pet. Either way, you don’t talk back. Just for that I’m not going to tell you yet. Now touch her.” This last part was directed at Harry.
His heart skipped a beat, his hands were trembling worse than they had his very first time but he still obediently ran his hands over Pansy’s curves. Trailing his grip over the length of her legs and across her stomach, he paused for a second then grasped her tits, squeezing the cotton material to the breast behind. Pansy’s squirmed slightly as he fondled her tits, even through the bra, feeling her nipples harden under his thumbs attention.
“A man? But so gentle! I hope you didn’t bring a sissy home, Mistress.”
“She’s being a very cheeky Pet, isn’t she?” Daphne remarked, taking one of Harry’s hands in hers and moving it. “But then I’m sure you always knew she had a big gob, didn’t you?”
She pushed his hand to her lips and Harry pressed a couple of fingers between them. Instantly Pansy wrapped her lips tight around them and sucked. Harry growled, pulling his digits away from her but then succumbing and pushing them in again, pumping his fingers and out of her mouth. Her tongue tickled and played over his fingertips as he pushed them into her lips.
“That’s right. Fuck her. Just think what those lips could do for you.”
Harry growled as he pushed a finger to the knuckle into her mouth, his other hand still toying with one of Pansy’s breasts.
“You’ve always wanted to shut her up I bet, always wanted to punish her for the things she said, haven’t you? Well, now you get your chance,” Daphne said.
“What do you mean?” Harry said lowly and felt Pansy start beneath him, perhaps recognising his voice.
“Well, she’s been a very naughty pet and rude to you, our guest, as well. So I think she deserves a punishment, don’t you? But I think it’s time for me to go and slip into something more comfortable. So I’ll thank you to do it for me.”
And with that Daphne walked off in the direction of her en-suite bathroom. Harry watched her go all the way to do the door. He didn’t really have a choice the way her hips were swaying and pushing a very round tight arse in his and Pansy’s direction.
He gazed down at Pansy, her curves still stretched out underneath him, helpless. He did remember her years of taunts and pettiness, but even at the time, he’d didn’t recall any great hate of her, all his ire had been focussed in other directions. Still that didn’t mean they hadn’t be mean, hadn’t been meant to hurt. His expression darkened.
“I’m going to spank you,” he said, forcefully and found he really meant it if for no better reason than Daphne had suggested it. He fished his wand out of his pocket and tapped it on the handcuffs releasing her. Pansy didn’t move.
“Why should I let you?”
Harry paused. Then he remembered she hadn’t said ‘quibbler’. She was testing him and he’d be damned if he’d let her win.
“Because you’ll only get it worse from your mistress if she hears you didn’t obey me,” he growled.
“You just mean Mistress, she’s not just mine now,” Pansy said but rolled over to present her arse to him.
“You’re not as lucky as that,” Harry said. “Crawl towards my voice.”
Slowly she did so, until she was within arm’s reach and Harry hauled her over his lap. Her warm body pressing down over his slightly parted legs, her round bum pushed up in the air.
Harry swung the flat of his hand down in arc, impacting her bum with a light slapping hand.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” Pansy said then cried out when Harry swatted the other cheek. “You can do better than that,” Pansy continued, craning her head around towards him, despite the blindfold.
Harry’s left hand pushed her head back down. He stoked the hair away and then his grip came down on the smooth skin of her bare neck. Pansy gasped as he held her in place and Harry smiled. He was finally getting through to her.
He spanked her, his hand falling into a rhythm as he slapped her knicker-clad arse over and over. The white fabric not showing a single mark for what he was doing even though underneath her skin must be turning bright red. She squealed and gasped at her first but then her cries died away. Her breathing became deep and low and she squirmed incessantly against his leg.
“I do hope you’re not enjoying this, Pansy,” he said as he felt her grind against him.
“You call me only ‘Pet’ as well, don’t know any-ah!” She broke off, for Harry, ignoring what she was saying entirely, had pulled down her knickers and pressed his fingers to her entrance. Cupping her pussy, Harry immediately started to feel her wetness leak against his fingers. He traced his fingertip over her folds prying them apart.
“Fuck, you are wet, aren’t you?”
She really was. Extremely wet. Ludicrously wet in fact, unless…
“Now either I’m even sexier than I thought,” Harry said, marvelling at his own confidence. “Or Mistress got you nice and lubricated up before hunting me down tonight. Didn’t want to have to wait before using you, did she?”
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t,” said a confident voice from the doorway. Harry stared. Daphne had returned in an entirely new outfit, an amazing outfit that looked like she’d taken tips from Lavender Brown before leaving the Patronus Club.
Black stockings encased her legs and a black and silver panelled corset contained her tits, giving her body an exaggerated hourglass shape, pushing her tits into an immense, glorious cleavage but that was not what Harry was staring it.
What Harry was staring at was the long, thick, glossy purple dildo strapped around Daphne’s waist and he continued to do so as Daphne sauntered towards him and Pansy, her sea-green eyes alight with energy, metaphorically at least.
“Pet. How rude of you. All this time and our guest is still wearing more clothes than you? Tut-tut.” Daphne waggled her finger at them. “Correct this.”
Without a word from him, Pansy scrambled out of his lap and turned towards him. Her hands reached towards him blindly in instant obedience. Harry guided them to the hem of his shirt; it was either that or let her poke him in the face. She pulled the shirt awkwardly over his head, one hand remaining on his chest so she could slide it down to his waistline to find his buttons. Harry hefted his hips up to let Pansy pull them down and off his legs.
And as quickly as that he was naked in front of two women, even if one of them could only imagine what he looked like. As her gaze took in his rigid length, Daphne’s lip curved in a way that could mean anything.
“Looks like you’re getting a treat today, Pet, even if you don’t deserve it. Get him on his back.”
Pansy pushed his chest and with a yelp of surprise Harry toppled backwards onto the bed. He could only wonder when he lost control of the situation so thoroughly.
“Don’t worry, you’re going to love this,” Daphne said to him, as she sneaked up behind Pansy, quickly stripping her of her underwear before guiding her forward to straddle Harry. Harry had little time to appreciate Pansy’s perky breasts and pink nipples or the dark strip of fur above her glistening wet cunt before Daphne seized his cock, and captured his complete attention as she aimed him up at Pansy’s entrance.
“That’s it baby. Take him. Take him all up your eager little snatch,” Daphne whispered into Pansy’s ear. As she pushed her down, her cunt swallowing Harry’s cock easily, inch by inch. Harry whimpered as her wet heat closed around her. Even with at the extra lubrication he could feel her walls tense and squeeze him. Pansy continued down until her cunt was spread wide by the thick base of Harry’s cock and then Daphne kept pushing her not down onto his cock, but flat to his chest her breast pushed flat against it, as Daphne climbed on top of both of them.
“Now I must admit I wasn’t entirely truthful with you before,” she said conversationally with Harry, one hand busy between her legs. “Why you’re really here is because my Pet is a greedy little girl who wants to be completely filled up. Don’t you, Pet?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Pansy whimpered.
“And I can’t do it all myself, so we’re going to use you,” Daphne smirked at him. “Somehow I don’t think you have a problem with this.”
Harry might have responded but then he felt Daphne push forward. Even buried in Pansy’s cunt he could feel the strap on move into her arse, a hardness rubbing alongside his cock. He only half-heard Daphne say ‘relax sweetheart’ in her more normal voice and he might have just imagined it.
“And I don’t think you need this anymore,” Daphne said, whipping the blindfold off Pansy’s head. So Harry was looking directly into her wide grey eyes.
“Oh! Harry Potter, what a surprise!” Pansy said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “She thinks she’s so clever.”
“I am clever, Pet. I’m the one in the position to do this,” Daphne said and started fucking them.
Daphne set the pace and pinned beneath two women, Harry didn’t have much choice but to go along with it, thrusting his hips upwards in minuscule motions whenever he could. Pansy rocked herself back and forth between, clearly full off at least one of their cocks at anytime. Harry could feel her tremble and squirm as she did so, her breathing coming in tremulous grasps.
She buried her head in the pillow next Harry’s head so he could whisper in her ear and could her that Daphne was doing the same on the far side of Pansy’s head, though he could make out the expressions.
“There you go. There you go,” Harry murmured, “just what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
“You think you’re clever, too,” Pansy gasped back, between pants, “getting to see me like this. Well, just you wait till it’s you.”
“Uh-huh?” Was Harry’s witty reply.
“Next time, you’ll be here in the middle. You’ll love that. Mistress’ wet cunt wrapped about your cock, while I’ll fuck your arse, pushing that thick dildo up you, controlling your speed as you fuck. You’ll be our little toy then.
Harry tensed, suddenly having to try twice as hard not to come. So he went on the counter offensive.
“Maybe but who’s getting fucked now? Who can’t get enough even with two cocks in her? Who’s pant and squirming like they’re in heat?”
“Uh-uh. M-me!” Pansy exclaimed.
“That’s right. You and you’re going to come all over my cock aren’t you?”
His hips jerked up, just as Daphne pushed down and Pansy wailed as both her holes were completely filled, her body clamped down on him, her fingers tore at the sheets and his side. Her voice failed as she went through a second wave of tremors and then her body slumped weakly between them.
Slowly, Harry felt Daphne extract herself from Pansy and the witch looked blissfully happy as she rolled off him.
“You loved that didn’t you, greedy Pet?” Daphne said, stroking Pansy’s face.
“Oh yes, Mistress, thank you,” Pansy said, dreamily.
“Selfish of you,” Daphne said. “Coming first like that.”
“Sorry, Mistress,” Pansy said, not sounding it.
“You could make it up to us. We’re going to use you until we do,” Daphne growled.
“We don’t have to…” Harry said, trailing off at the look she gave him.
“Spread her legs, Harry,” she said firmly and Harry found himself obeying, grabbing the insides of her thighs and parting them wide. From there it was easy to slip his cock back inside her.
“That’s it, fuck her!” Daphne ordered, and Harry didn’t need much more encouragement, slamming in and out of Pansy’s soaking wet snatch. Pansy moaned and squirmed under him, legs thrown up in the air.
But her moans were muffled as Daphne, now minus the strap-on, straddled her face, so Harry could suddenly only see Pansy’s chin sticking out from between Daphne’s arsecheeks and caught them motion of her tongue eagerly working her pussy.
Harry eagerly pounded between Pansy’s spread legs, completely out of control now. His hands snaked forward to squeeze and pinch Pansy’s tits, causing muffled sounds and Daphne to cry out.
“Fuck her, Harry, fuck her hard, just like that. Make her scream into my cunt.” And Harry did so. Hips slamming hard against until, with a great surge of energy, he came, gushing into Pansy even as Daphne ground her cunt of her face as she trembled in release.
Sweaty, spent, and exhausted, Harry tumbled down onto the bed with the two women and fell asleep easily even before managing to cuddle up to them.
~~~
Pansy awoke. She paused for a long time before opening her eyes. She could hardly believe what they’d just done. Let alone get up and deal with it right now. When she’d suggest to Daphne they try something new, she’d hardly thought that she’d be so adventurous so soon.
Not that she was complaining. Sure she was sticky in some places, sore in others but that was coupled with an immense feeling of satisfaction, light headedness and elation. She couldn’t have been asleep that long if she still felt the afterglow, Pansy thought.
“I know you’re awake, sweetheart,” Daphne said gently, close by. “Do you want to get up?”
“Hmm?” Pansy said vaguely.
“I said do you want to get up, Pansy? I’ve got some things here for you.”
“Oh right,” Pansy said and swung herself out of bed, came to her feet, almost toppled over and was caught by Daphne. Who then wrapped her in a silk dressing gown.
“Here we go, here we go,” Daphne said coaxingly, leading her over to a few chairs and a coffee table in the corner of their bedroom. “No. Not that chair, sweetie, this one’s got a nice cushion for you.”
Pansy sank into the offered chair, and sighed in relief as the soft silken cushions soothed her sore arse. Daphne pressed a tall cool glass into her hands and Pansy sipped at the pumpkin juice in it, slowly coming back to herself.
“Daphne?” she said at length. “First, where’s our… um… guest?”
“Harry’s in the shower, dear,” she answered. Pansy wondered why she hadn’t noticed it was going before now.
“And second, that. Was. Brilliant!”
Her girlfriend blushed prettily. Daphne did a lot of things prettily.
“Well, it was your fantasy. I just hoped I did it okay.”
“Okay?! It was amazing! You were amazing. Just so… in charge of both of us and unf, did it set me off. Really, thank you.”
“You were pretty astonishing as well. Such a good little pet.” Daphne giggled like she couldn’t when they were playing. “And when I rode you face, even though you were half out of it, you still got me off.”
Pansy beamed and reached out to grasp Daphne’s hand.
“Well, I couldn’t leave you hanging, after you’d done so well taking charge of us. Wouldn’t be fair. And just to be clear I love you, so much.”
“I love you, too,” Daphne said, gazing into her eyes and then more briskly. “Now I’ve got another big glass of juice for you here, so you drink that up and get a shower when Harry’s done while I make breakfast.”
Pansy frowned.
“No, you’re not. You’re still wearing your party clothes.”
“Don’t be silly, I’m supposed to be looking after you,” Daphne said, half rising to her feet.
“Sit down, Daph,” Pansy said, firmly and since they were not playing any more, Daphne did so. Pansy came to her feet and moved over to her girlfriend.
“It’s very sweet of you,” she said kissing her forehead, “but you’ve been working as hard as anyone taking charge of us.” She kissed her on the tip of her funny nose. “And you need a rest as much as anyone.”
The kiss on the lips was slow, languid and utterly delicious. Pansy moved behind her to start to unlace the corset.
“Now you’re going to rest here, drink something yourself and I’ll make breakfast.” Pansy removed the corset and placed it on the dresser. “Now isn’t that better?” she said, wrapping Daphne in an extremely fluffy turquoise dressing gown.
“I like making breakfast,” Daphne complained and pouted at her adorably.
“Oh, all right, you can come down and watch me,” Pansy relented, knowing that by ‘watching’ Daphne would end up doing at least half the work. “And while you’re watching we can chat about what we’re going to do the next time you snare that gorgeous bloke into our bed.”
And they headed off to the kitchen hand in hand, giggling together in a way that would have made Harry very nervous if only he could have heard them.
Threesome/Moresome:Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter/Pansy Parkinson
Additional Characters/Pairings:Cho Chang, Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnigan, A Patil/Unknown Blonde, Blaise Zabini/Ginny Weasley/Terry Boot, Accented Blonde/Romilda Vane, Other Patil/Justin Finch-Fletchly, Lavender Brown/Draco Malfoy
Word Count: 5,878
Rating: NC-17
Contains (Highlight to view):*Threesomes, Duh. PWP. Sex club. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism. Bondage. Double penetration. Deep-throat oral. Sixty-nine. BDSM. Femdom. Collars. Boot worship. Banter. Toys. Anal play. D/s. Dirty talk. Spanking. Strap-on. Anal. Reference to pegging. Aftercare.*
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Daphne searches the Wizarding World's first sex club for someone to go home with but is all as it seems?
A/N: Written for
hp_3somes's Gift Exchance Fest. Thanks to torino10154 for advice and beta-reading the piece. Links:Original Fest Post | AO3
Daphne Greengrass paused for a moment, hovering just outside the club’s entrance, still not quite believing what she was planning to do tonight. She acted as if she was just admiring the sign, which was quite believable since the sign was spectacular. It was always better to mix as much truth in with your lies as possible, Daphne found.
The sign was discreet enough considering what was inside. A wooden plaque with silver letters engraved into it. The letters gleamed brightly as if they were reflecting the non-existent moonlight of the cloudy overcast night. The letters read: “The Patronus Club – Creating Your Happy Memories”. Above the words was an engraving of animal that changed every few seconds. Daphne watched as an owl flapped its wings until it became an excitable little dog of some kind that chased it tail before it reared up as a cobra, flashing its fangs. Daphne jolted in surprise and realised she’d been hesitating too long. She was nervous about heading into the club, but then she wasn’t here for herself.
She pushed the door open and darted inside the club. A surprisingly matronly woman with iron gray hair manned the desk inside and looked entirely unsurprised; neither at Daphne’s slightly flustered demeanour nor at the couple of Galleons entrance fee she paid in cold hard cash. No one here really wanted to leave a parchment trail after all. Then she continued onwards into the Patronus club proper.
The club was a maze of tables, various kinds of chairs and small stages. People flowed around the club: from the bar to the seats, some of them observed the stages closely, others preferred to settle and watch at a distance. Any discussion that took place did so in soft, intimate whispers and low voices and occasionally a pair or trio or small group came to an agreement and headed off together: out of the club via the door or Floo, up to one of the club’s many private upstairs rooms or taking to a stage themselves.
It took Daphne a while to notice these things however because as soon as she entered the club she’d been confronted with a magnificent arse. Just inside the door, a woman was on her knees on a patch of especially thick carpet with her head and arms restrained in a thick wooden stock. Given her positioning, backside placed firmly towards the entrance the woman had clearly volunteered to be used by anyone who walked in the door. And, seeing a sliver of face beyond the stocks and between falls of shiny black hair, Daphne suddenly recognised Cho Chang. The Quidditch player’s bum really was nice and between her cheeks and framed by some fantastic toned leg, the darker lips of her pussy glistened with excitement. Daphne licked her lips and gazed hard for a second before tearing her eyes away and heading onwards into the wizarding world’s first sex club.
Founded in what Daphne could only call an excess of post-war euphoria, the club had over the last five years gained a reputation has the happening night spot for young witches and wizards as well as a place where everyone welcome. Daphne had never quite let herself believe that, but as she walked deeper in the den of debauchery she started to realise it was true: she was seeing more and more people she recognised.
Two Gryffindors she knew by sight if not by name passed her, a sandy haired man and his apparently now more than, best friend with their hands in each other’s back pockets as they headed up to a private room. The club it seemed catered to all sorts. Some people, even those not on a stage, had trouble restraining themselves even that much. Daphne saw one of the Patil twins slumped in one of the softer chairs. Her mouth was slightly parted, her breathing was deep and her hands were combing through the blonde hair of the woman eating her out under the table. Daphne had no chance of recognising her, though, between the table and how the woman had buried her head between Patil’s thighs; the blonde hair was all that Daphne could see of her.
Moving onwards, Daphne saw that one particular area seemed to be attracting something of a crowd and when she caught sight of what they were watching Daphne could quite understand why.
Many straps of dark fabric hung down from the ceiling reaching down to support a young athletic woman, who laid on her back in the sex swing with men pounding into her from both ends.
Ginny Weasley certainly seemed to be enjoying the single life, surrounded by admirers. Her legs were spread wide and hoisted over the hips of the dark haired man fucking her cunt. Terry Boot gripped her tight around the waist, his fingers dug into her hips, pushing and pulling her to and fro.
Any sound the woman might have made though was muffled out at the other end, where her lips were wrapped around Blaise Zabini’s thick cock. She had to arch her head backwards to take it and Daphne could see her throat work each time she swung towards Blaise as she swallowed him and see the coating of saliva shine on Blaise’s cock when she was swung away.
Blaise himself was quite a sight, Daphne admitted. She’d never seen someone look quite so composed especially when entirely naked. He almost seemed to be striking a pose, one hand wrapped around the harness guiding its motion, while another one fondling Weasley’s breast. His dark muscles rippled and gleamed as he moved, pushing himself down the girl’s throat, her red hair falling in a great stream between his legs.
Daphne only stopped looking when she realised Blaise was looking back at her, his dark eyes glittering in amusement. His lips gave the slightest twitch and he raised an eyebrow as he made the tiniest of nods towards the harness. Between Slytherins it was practically bellowing; ‘Did she fancy a turn where Ginny was?’ Daphne glowered back, realising Blaise was not the only man there casting covetous looks her way. Daphne’s stance straightened, the last of her nerves gone and she turned and sauntered away from the trio’s stage. She was fascinated by the two restrained women she had seen: they gave her no end of good ideas but she had not the slightest inclination to be in their position.
Quite the reverse in fact.
Daphne circled the club and started to find an area much more to her liking. The stage in this part of the club had another two witches in it who were locked in a sixty-nine position. The witch on top looked just old enough to be there and had long shiny silvery hair. While the witch beneath her was dark haired and skinned, had a strong chin and simply looked ecstatic to be there from what Daphne could see. The blonde girl took a moment to murmur encouragingly in a deep accent.
“Hmm, yes, keep that up, Rommie, dearest.”
Nor was this area lacking in woman taking charge. Daphne saw the other Patil in here as well leading a collared posh-looking gentleman that might well be called Justin, for all she knew, upstairs by his leash. Daphne felt an intense surge of curiosity about how that pairing was going to turn out but she supposed their desire for privacy had to be respected.
A single couple was not quite so shy however. In fact they were a contrast in more way than one. The man was slender and pale, from his white skin to his white-gold hair, the woman he was kneeling in front of was tall, wearing thigh boots in white leather (and hardly anything else) but her skin was a deep rich brown colour and the nipples capping her generous tits were black and hard.
Smirking, Daphne watched her future brother-in-law lick Lavender Brown’s boots clean. She was quite sure her sister neither knew nor cared how Draco sowed his wild oats before their wedding. Once they’d tied the knot, Astoria was going to very firmly stake her claim. Yet Daphne couldn’t help watch and think about the sheer potential of holding this over Malfoy’s head.
Nor was she the only one paying attention to the pair. There was one man also watching the couple intently, perhaps from further back than most of the other observers had been but still very definitely interested. Interesting, Daphne thought, doing a double take. Did she even dare set her cap at him? It was a silly question, even inside her head. She’d never been able to turn down a challenge. As soon as she’d realised the man really was who he appeared to be, her decision had been made.
The man was nursing a tankard of something and had combed his dark hair over one side of his forehead, not quite managing to obscure the lightning bolt scar there. The other customers all seemed to be giving him a wide berth so that when she slipped on to the sofa next to him and said:
“I can’t decide. Do you think I’m underdressed or overdressed for in here?”
-he jumped and stared at her with a hilarious mixture of surprise and bafflement.
“I mean this isn’t the kind of outfit I’d usually go out in,” Daphne continued gesturing at her ruffled turquoise blouse and loose khaki trousers. “But then I’m wearing a lot more than some people have got on. Like her; to pick an example entirely at random.”
Harry Potter’s eyes followed her second gesture back to Lavender Brown’s (lack of) outfit, he blushed slightly and his gaze seemed to have some trouble returning to her when he spoke.
“Well, that depends on what you’re here for I guess,” he said. His voice was hesitant, as if he didn’t use it much inside the club.
“What a question,” Daphne laughed. “And if I may be as bold as to return it: What are you here for, all alone? I’d have thought people would be swarming all over you.” She smirked. “For any number of reasons.”
Potter shrugged at her.
“I don’t like being swarmed. Especially when I don’t know their intentions.”
“Depends,” Daphne laughed. “What kind of intentions do you want me to have?” She motioned her head back towards Malfoy and Lavender Brown. “Anyway I was just trying to figure out which one of them you fancied?”
“I don’t fancy either of them!” Potter said rather too quickly.
“Of course not,” Daphne said smoothly, “I meant fancy being, of course.”
“Same thing, really.”
“Well, almost. I suppose. But really do you see yourself. Standing over someone? On your knees?”
Their green eyes met. Harry Potter’s brilliant emerald eyes bored into her sea-green ones. He said nothing for a long moment. He opened his mouth for a second but then took a swig of drink, instead. Daphne was beginning to think she pressed her luck too far when he blurted out:
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Daphne cocked her head.
“What a fascinating answer.”
“Look, I end up bossing people about a lot at work,” Potter said, words now spilling out of him in a rush. “And I might even be good at it in the bedroom, I don’t know, but I do know that maybe I want something different.”
“Something like Ms Brown’s act over there?” she said lightly. They paused to gaze at her once again. She’d ordered Draco onto his back now and spread and pushed his legs apart and back so he was bent in half. His rock hard cock was pointed back down at his own flushed faced and he bit a lip as Lavender worked the tip of a glass dildo into his arse.
“Lavender?” Potter crocked and then clearly forced a chuckle. “I knew her at sixteen, there’s no way I could take her seriously. Even with that t-toy.” His voice faltered as he gazed at the fake cock again.
“Oh, I get it,” Daphne said, shifting closer to him. “You don’t think she’d be mean enough. Don’t think she’d be convincing.”
Potter nodded.
“Not the same way, say, a former Slytherin might be?” She leant in, feeling her blouse part slightly to give him a look at her self-admitted fantastic tits, her hands traced a line on his chest, feeling muscle underneath his shirt. “An old rival? Someone who may or may not still hate your guts.”
Her fingers tensed, digging her nails into him and drawing out a shocked gasp.
“Maybe, I’ll take you home. Let you play with my toys, how does that sound?” she said, her lips hovering near his ear now.
“I wasn’t being serious,” Potter said in what seemed like a last ditch effort to evade her. Daphne might have been disappointed if he wasn’t so clearly affected by her and if he wasn’t just so right for her plans.
“I was,” she said in the voice and, with a sudden movement, slung a leg over him, moving to straddle him. “Of course, I’ll need to take you for a test ride first.”
She pressed her lips to his mouth and her tongue plunged into his mouth, tangling with his. He tasted of ale and a hint of treacle and he murmured in surprise pleasure into her mouth. Grinding down on him, Daphne only felt his cock stiffen and press against her when she caught his wrists in each hand and pinned his arms to the wall.
Their kiss broke and she gazed down on him with a suddenly hungry expression.
“God, you’re just perfect, aren’t you, Harry? And you’re coming home with me.”
Harry didn’t argue.
~~~
Harry Potter stepped out of the fire into Daphne Greengrass’s living room and paused; still not quite believing what he was currently doing. He never accepted invitations at the Patronus Club, not to find a private room, certainly not to take to a stage and never to go home with anyone. It was his rule; he didn’t want to risk it.
Yet here he was and his heart was pumping at three times its normal rate at least. He was getting that fidgety excited feeling in his stomach he used to get before a Quidditch match, or before raids with the Aurors when he hadn’t been flying a desk, or during the death defying escapades that marked his school years. What was wrong with him? Was Daphne right? Was he just turned on by danger? That the idea that the woman might not have his interests at heart? He didn’t know. Right now, he wasn’t sure he cared.
Daphne at least showed absolutely no hesitation at all. She took his coat and hung it up and directed him to kick off his shoes and leave them by the grate.
“Come on. Let’s get you comfortable.”
She might have sensed his hesitance for the grip that closed on his upper arm was surprisingly strong and brooked no disobedience as she ushered him through her halls to her bedroom. Harry thought it was strange that the lights of her bedroom were already lit. He hadn’t seen her use her wand to light them either. Then she pulled him past her threshold and Harry saw a sight that took his breath away.
Daphne Greengrass’s bed was not empty. It was already occupied. More than occupied: a young woman was attached to it. Pink fluffy handcuffs were locked round each wrist and a long chain wove in and out of an intricately carved headboard before it reached the other cuff.
That wasn’t the worst part. He recognised her. It shouldn’t have been a surprise considering whose home he was in but it was.
“Is that who I think it is?” he said hoarsely.
But Daphne only put a finger to her lips and shushed him as she lead him up to the side of her bed. The fact remained that Pansy Parkinson was lying chained to Daphne’s bed, wearing nothing but a sleeping mask and her underwear. Her bra and knickers were both incongruously white with the knickers and top of the bra’s cup lined with frilly pink fabric.
“Who’s there?” Pansy said in a worried tone. But the quaver on her voice was quickly lost. “About time you got back, Mistress, I’ve been waiting for hours.”
“What is this? You left her here locked up, helpless alone?” Harry said rounding on Daphne.
“Of course, I get to do whatever I want to her,” Daphne said in a stern voice.
“And what if something happened?” Harry said glaring.
Daphne glared back for a moment with perhaps greater intensity then her expression softened. Harry had the feeling a veil being lifted from her.
“It’s just a game we play, Harry, like at the club, I thought you got that. Look on the headboard there. See her wand? She can easily reach that if she wants to get out. But she doesn’t want to see? Doesn’t mean we’re not being safe, okay?” she said gently and softly so Pansy couldn’t hear.
Slowly Harry nodded.
“So we get to do whatever we want to do to her. Unless she says ‘Quibbler’. That’s her safeword. She says that and we stop straight away and let her out of anything she may be in. Get it?”
Harry nodded again.
“Got it?” Daphne repeated.
“Her safeword is Quibbler. If she says it we stop immediately, I get it,” Harry said calmly.
“Right. Let’s go then.” Daphne strode over to the bed.
“This isn’t what you said we were going to do,” Harry hissed floating along in her wake.
“Now, now,” Daphne said, more loudly again in what Harry now realised was her ‘domme voice’ if that was the right word. “I said we’d play with my toy. This is my toy.”
“Hey, I’m so not your toy, Mistress! Pet! We agreed on pet,” Pansy complained. “And who are you talking to?”
“Toy, Pet. Either way, you don’t talk back. Just for that I’m not going to tell you yet. Now touch her.” This last part was directed at Harry.
His heart skipped a beat, his hands were trembling worse than they had his very first time but he still obediently ran his hands over Pansy’s curves. Trailing his grip over the length of her legs and across her stomach, he paused for a second then grasped her tits, squeezing the cotton material to the breast behind. Pansy’s squirmed slightly as he fondled her tits, even through the bra, feeling her nipples harden under his thumbs attention.
“A man? But so gentle! I hope you didn’t bring a sissy home, Mistress.”
“She’s being a very cheeky Pet, isn’t she?” Daphne remarked, taking one of Harry’s hands in hers and moving it. “But then I’m sure you always knew she had a big gob, didn’t you?”
She pushed his hand to her lips and Harry pressed a couple of fingers between them. Instantly Pansy wrapped her lips tight around them and sucked. Harry growled, pulling his digits away from her but then succumbing and pushing them in again, pumping his fingers and out of her mouth. Her tongue tickled and played over his fingertips as he pushed them into her lips.
“That’s right. Fuck her. Just think what those lips could do for you.”
Harry growled as he pushed a finger to the knuckle into her mouth, his other hand still toying with one of Pansy’s breasts.
“You’ve always wanted to shut her up I bet, always wanted to punish her for the things she said, haven’t you? Well, now you get your chance,” Daphne said.
“What do you mean?” Harry said lowly and felt Pansy start beneath him, perhaps recognising his voice.
“Well, she’s been a very naughty pet and rude to you, our guest, as well. So I think she deserves a punishment, don’t you? But I think it’s time for me to go and slip into something more comfortable. So I’ll thank you to do it for me.”
And with that Daphne walked off in the direction of her en-suite bathroom. Harry watched her go all the way to do the door. He didn’t really have a choice the way her hips were swaying and pushing a very round tight arse in his and Pansy’s direction.
He gazed down at Pansy, her curves still stretched out underneath him, helpless. He did remember her years of taunts and pettiness, but even at the time, he’d didn’t recall any great hate of her, all his ire had been focussed in other directions. Still that didn’t mean they hadn’t be mean, hadn’t been meant to hurt. His expression darkened.
“I’m going to spank you,” he said, forcefully and found he really meant it if for no better reason than Daphne had suggested it. He fished his wand out of his pocket and tapped it on the handcuffs releasing her. Pansy didn’t move.
“Why should I let you?”
Harry paused. Then he remembered she hadn’t said ‘quibbler’. She was testing him and he’d be damned if he’d let her win.
“Because you’ll only get it worse from your mistress if she hears you didn’t obey me,” he growled.
“You just mean Mistress, she’s not just mine now,” Pansy said but rolled over to present her arse to him.
“You’re not as lucky as that,” Harry said. “Crawl towards my voice.”
Slowly she did so, until she was within arm’s reach and Harry hauled her over his lap. Her warm body pressing down over his slightly parted legs, her round bum pushed up in the air.
Harry swung the flat of his hand down in arc, impacting her bum with a light slapping hand.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” Pansy said then cried out when Harry swatted the other cheek. “You can do better than that,” Pansy continued, craning her head around towards him, despite the blindfold.
Harry’s left hand pushed her head back down. He stoked the hair away and then his grip came down on the smooth skin of her bare neck. Pansy gasped as he held her in place and Harry smiled. He was finally getting through to her.
He spanked her, his hand falling into a rhythm as he slapped her knicker-clad arse over and over. The white fabric not showing a single mark for what he was doing even though underneath her skin must be turning bright red. She squealed and gasped at her first but then her cries died away. Her breathing became deep and low and she squirmed incessantly against his leg.
“I do hope you’re not enjoying this, Pansy,” he said as he felt her grind against him.
“You call me only ‘Pet’ as well, don’t know any-ah!” She broke off, for Harry, ignoring what she was saying entirely, had pulled down her knickers and pressed his fingers to her entrance. Cupping her pussy, Harry immediately started to feel her wetness leak against his fingers. He traced his fingertip over her folds prying them apart.
“Fuck, you are wet, aren’t you?”
She really was. Extremely wet. Ludicrously wet in fact, unless…
“Now either I’m even sexier than I thought,” Harry said, marvelling at his own confidence. “Or Mistress got you nice and lubricated up before hunting me down tonight. Didn’t want to have to wait before using you, did she?”
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t,” said a confident voice from the doorway. Harry stared. Daphne had returned in an entirely new outfit, an amazing outfit that looked like she’d taken tips from Lavender Brown before leaving the Patronus Club.
Black stockings encased her legs and a black and silver panelled corset contained her tits, giving her body an exaggerated hourglass shape, pushing her tits into an immense, glorious cleavage but that was not what Harry was staring it.
What Harry was staring at was the long, thick, glossy purple dildo strapped around Daphne’s waist and he continued to do so as Daphne sauntered towards him and Pansy, her sea-green eyes alight with energy, metaphorically at least.
“Pet. How rude of you. All this time and our guest is still wearing more clothes than you? Tut-tut.” Daphne waggled her finger at them. “Correct this.”
Without a word from him, Pansy scrambled out of his lap and turned towards him. Her hands reached towards him blindly in instant obedience. Harry guided them to the hem of his shirt; it was either that or let her poke him in the face. She pulled the shirt awkwardly over his head, one hand remaining on his chest so she could slide it down to his waistline to find his buttons. Harry hefted his hips up to let Pansy pull them down and off his legs.
And as quickly as that he was naked in front of two women, even if one of them could only imagine what he looked like. As her gaze took in his rigid length, Daphne’s lip curved in a way that could mean anything.
“Looks like you’re getting a treat today, Pet, even if you don’t deserve it. Get him on his back.”
Pansy pushed his chest and with a yelp of surprise Harry toppled backwards onto the bed. He could only wonder when he lost control of the situation so thoroughly.
“Don’t worry, you’re going to love this,” Daphne said to him, as she sneaked up behind Pansy, quickly stripping her of her underwear before guiding her forward to straddle Harry. Harry had little time to appreciate Pansy’s perky breasts and pink nipples or the dark strip of fur above her glistening wet cunt before Daphne seized his cock, and captured his complete attention as she aimed him up at Pansy’s entrance.
“That’s it baby. Take him. Take him all up your eager little snatch,” Daphne whispered into Pansy’s ear. As she pushed her down, her cunt swallowing Harry’s cock easily, inch by inch. Harry whimpered as her wet heat closed around her. Even with at the extra lubrication he could feel her walls tense and squeeze him. Pansy continued down until her cunt was spread wide by the thick base of Harry’s cock and then Daphne kept pushing her not down onto his cock, but flat to his chest her breast pushed flat against it, as Daphne climbed on top of both of them.
“Now I must admit I wasn’t entirely truthful with you before,” she said conversationally with Harry, one hand busy between her legs. “Why you’re really here is because my Pet is a greedy little girl who wants to be completely filled up. Don’t you, Pet?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Pansy whimpered.
“And I can’t do it all myself, so we’re going to use you,” Daphne smirked at him. “Somehow I don’t think you have a problem with this.”
Harry might have responded but then he felt Daphne push forward. Even buried in Pansy’s cunt he could feel the strap on move into her arse, a hardness rubbing alongside his cock. He only half-heard Daphne say ‘relax sweetheart’ in her more normal voice and he might have just imagined it.
“And I don’t think you need this anymore,” Daphne said, whipping the blindfold off Pansy’s head. So Harry was looking directly into her wide grey eyes.
“Oh! Harry Potter, what a surprise!” Pansy said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “She thinks she’s so clever.”
“I am clever, Pet. I’m the one in the position to do this,” Daphne said and started fucking them.
Daphne set the pace and pinned beneath two women, Harry didn’t have much choice but to go along with it, thrusting his hips upwards in minuscule motions whenever he could. Pansy rocked herself back and forth between, clearly full off at least one of their cocks at anytime. Harry could feel her tremble and squirm as she did so, her breathing coming in tremulous grasps.
She buried her head in the pillow next Harry’s head so he could whisper in her ear and could her that Daphne was doing the same on the far side of Pansy’s head, though he could make out the expressions.
“There you go. There you go,” Harry murmured, “just what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
“You think you’re clever, too,” Pansy gasped back, between pants, “getting to see me like this. Well, just you wait till it’s you.”
“Uh-huh?” Was Harry’s witty reply.
“Next time, you’ll be here in the middle. You’ll love that. Mistress’ wet cunt wrapped about your cock, while I’ll fuck your arse, pushing that thick dildo up you, controlling your speed as you fuck. You’ll be our little toy then.
Harry tensed, suddenly having to try twice as hard not to come. So he went on the counter offensive.
“Maybe but who’s getting fucked now? Who can’t get enough even with two cocks in her? Who’s pant and squirming like they’re in heat?”
“Uh-uh. M-me!” Pansy exclaimed.
“That’s right. You and you’re going to come all over my cock aren’t you?”
His hips jerked up, just as Daphne pushed down and Pansy wailed as both her holes were completely filled, her body clamped down on him, her fingers tore at the sheets and his side. Her voice failed as she went through a second wave of tremors and then her body slumped weakly between them.
Slowly, Harry felt Daphne extract herself from Pansy and the witch looked blissfully happy as she rolled off him.
“You loved that didn’t you, greedy Pet?” Daphne said, stroking Pansy’s face.
“Oh yes, Mistress, thank you,” Pansy said, dreamily.
“Selfish of you,” Daphne said. “Coming first like that.”
“Sorry, Mistress,” Pansy said, not sounding it.
“You could make it up to us. We’re going to use you until we do,” Daphne growled.
“We don’t have to…” Harry said, trailing off at the look she gave him.
“Spread her legs, Harry,” she said firmly and Harry found himself obeying, grabbing the insides of her thighs and parting them wide. From there it was easy to slip his cock back inside her.
“That’s it, fuck her!” Daphne ordered, and Harry didn’t need much more encouragement, slamming in and out of Pansy’s soaking wet snatch. Pansy moaned and squirmed under him, legs thrown up in the air.
But her moans were muffled as Daphne, now minus the strap-on, straddled her face, so Harry could suddenly only see Pansy’s chin sticking out from between Daphne’s arsecheeks and caught them motion of her tongue eagerly working her pussy.
Harry eagerly pounded between Pansy’s spread legs, completely out of control now. His hands snaked forward to squeeze and pinch Pansy’s tits, causing muffled sounds and Daphne to cry out.
“Fuck her, Harry, fuck her hard, just like that. Make her scream into my cunt.” And Harry did so. Hips slamming hard against until, with a great surge of energy, he came, gushing into Pansy even as Daphne ground her cunt of her face as she trembled in release.
Sweaty, spent, and exhausted, Harry tumbled down onto the bed with the two women and fell asleep easily even before managing to cuddle up to them.
~~~
Pansy awoke. She paused for a long time before opening her eyes. She could hardly believe what they’d just done. Let alone get up and deal with it right now. When she’d suggest to Daphne they try something new, she’d hardly thought that she’d be so adventurous so soon.
Not that she was complaining. Sure she was sticky in some places, sore in others but that was coupled with an immense feeling of satisfaction, light headedness and elation. She couldn’t have been asleep that long if she still felt the afterglow, Pansy thought.
“I know you’re awake, sweetheart,” Daphne said gently, close by. “Do you want to get up?”
“Hmm?” Pansy said vaguely.
“I said do you want to get up, Pansy? I’ve got some things here for you.”
“Oh right,” Pansy said and swung herself out of bed, came to her feet, almost toppled over and was caught by Daphne. Who then wrapped her in a silk dressing gown.
“Here we go, here we go,” Daphne said coaxingly, leading her over to a few chairs and a coffee table in the corner of their bedroom. “No. Not that chair, sweetie, this one’s got a nice cushion for you.”
Pansy sank into the offered chair, and sighed in relief as the soft silken cushions soothed her sore arse. Daphne pressed a tall cool glass into her hands and Pansy sipped at the pumpkin juice in it, slowly coming back to herself.
“Daphne?” she said at length. “First, where’s our… um… guest?”
“Harry’s in the shower, dear,” she answered. Pansy wondered why she hadn’t noticed it was going before now.
“And second, that. Was. Brilliant!”
Her girlfriend blushed prettily. Daphne did a lot of things prettily.
“Well, it was your fantasy. I just hoped I did it okay.”
“Okay?! It was amazing! You were amazing. Just so… in charge of both of us and unf, did it set me off. Really, thank you.”
“You were pretty astonishing as well. Such a good little pet.” Daphne giggled like she couldn’t when they were playing. “And when I rode you face, even though you were half out of it, you still got me off.”
Pansy beamed and reached out to grasp Daphne’s hand.
“Well, I couldn’t leave you hanging, after you’d done so well taking charge of us. Wouldn’t be fair. And just to be clear I love you, so much.”
“I love you, too,” Daphne said, gazing into her eyes and then more briskly. “Now I’ve got another big glass of juice for you here, so you drink that up and get a shower when Harry’s done while I make breakfast.”
Pansy frowned.
“No, you’re not. You’re still wearing your party clothes.”
“Don’t be silly, I’m supposed to be looking after you,” Daphne said, half rising to her feet.
“Sit down, Daph,” Pansy said, firmly and since they were not playing any more, Daphne did so. Pansy came to her feet and moved over to her girlfriend.
“It’s very sweet of you,” she said kissing her forehead, “but you’ve been working as hard as anyone taking charge of us.” She kissed her on the tip of her funny nose. “And you need a rest as much as anyone.”
The kiss on the lips was slow, languid and utterly delicious. Pansy moved behind her to start to unlace the corset.
“Now you’re going to rest here, drink something yourself and I’ll make breakfast.” Pansy removed the corset and placed it on the dresser. “Now isn’t that better?” she said, wrapping Daphne in an extremely fluffy turquoise dressing gown.
“I like making breakfast,” Daphne complained and pouted at her adorably.
“Oh, all right, you can come down and watch me,” Pansy relented, knowing that by ‘watching’ Daphne would end up doing at least half the work. “And while you’re watching we can chat about what we’re going to do the next time you snare that gorgeous bloke into our bed.”
And they headed off to the kitchen hand in hand, giggling together in a way that would have made Harry very nervous if only he could have heard them.
