A Confession by Hermione G.

BY : Scarlett-Pimpernel
Category: Harry Potter > General > General
Dragon prints: 38284
Disclaimer: DISCLAIMER: This project is based on and features characters and content that I do not own, nor is the content monetized by me. I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Year Five: Juiced Up
Curiosity, Polyjuice and The Many Wonders of that Infamous Brew and How I Lost a Second Virginity

“What is it, Miss G, that you have gleaned from your first fornicatory forays?”
My story of the Yuletide balling, my impromptu erotical coup with the “Three Stooges,” effectively co-opting them as my sexual servants, had impressed the Professor, earning me a good deal of respect, which I came to cherish. Of course, he agreed to host a sexual salon in the dungeon on an ongoing basis, should I wish to continue “entertaining them,” which of course, I did. Though he did posit that AF might seek to exact a greater measure of sexual tribute in order to agree to turn-the-blind eye to our comings-and-goings.
“Well, I’ve learned that I’m simply crazy for cock,” I confessed after a moment’s reflection.
“How fortunate, then, that every other person on the planet possesses one,” he snarked.
“Yes indeed, I shall never go hungry,” I snarked right back.
But the one cock I truly hunger for is right here at hand…so close…
The absinthe had loosened my inhibitions as we sat together in front of a roaring winter fire. To further ward off the perpetual chill of that cold stone castle, I had placed a blanket over my loins, beneath which, I fingered myself as I posed many questions to my mentor regarding the male fornicatory experience.
What does it feel like to sport an erection? Is it like a giant clitoris? What does the male orgasm feel like? How would he describe the spewing of his seed? What sublime satisfaction must he feel after emptying his glands? Growing impatient with my questioning, the Professor finally snapped: “If you are so hellfire curious, why not just quaff some polyjuice potion and play at being a man!”
Of course, the notion had occurred to me, but after my first experience with the stuff, I had been loath to venture again. However, emboldened by his suggestion, and fueled by an unquenchable sexual curiosity, I set about then and there to start a batch of the stuff, while vowing to improve on its potency and taste. The Professor found this quite amusing. Though over the course of my brewing, he became intrigued and then allied whole heartedly in the effort at the end of which we succeeded in improving on the formulation - a process that I have continued to refine over the years, though, inspired by my extensive use of the stuff to pursue a range of erotical pleasures, I have come to refer to it by a different name: “P-Juice,” as in pussy and penis.
I selected the Second Floor Ladies’ loo as the spot for my experiment in the male body. I thought it fitting since that was the scene of my first failed experiment and perhaps, because I enjoyed the idea of supportive audience: my ghostly friend Myrtle who took a giddy delight in the notion, having witnessed my deflowering.
And so, I arrived at the privy where Myrtle chided me impatiently as I undressed and positioned myself before the mirrors at the sinks so as to observe the transformation from multiple angles. The moment of truth at hand, I took a gulp of the stuff - expecting another stomach-curdling experience, only to be pleasantly surprised that the effort of the Professor and myself had at least partially succeeded in making the brew more palatable. Even so, I felt an unpleasant churn in my gut and my knees buckled slightly. I braced myself at the sink, unwilling to step away, determined to see the effect of the potion, even if it meant spewing the contents of my stomach into the sink bowl. The potion took hold in fits and starts. There is an explosion of sensation as one’s body magically morphs into that of another. In this case, transforming into a fellow considerable taller than myself, the perspective of the room shifted.
“Blimey, look at you!” chirped Myrtle.
I turned, admiring myself in the mirror, viewing the body of VK in its glorious entirety, from the well-developed chest, to the tight buns, to the impressive penis.
“Oh, how I wish I were alive! I’d shag the living daylights out of you!”
The thrill of the moment, my excitement at the sight of his body - my body - caused an immediate arousal. I could feel a surge of blood through my loins and the swelling of the appendage. It was as if my clit had suddenly grown to ginormous proportions. It is difficult to describe - the sublime moment.
“My, my, what a beautiful willie,” cooed Myrtle.
I took hold of the erection, feeling a ripple of sensation travel up my body, admiring it in the mirrors.
“It is wonderful!”
Myrtle appeared as if kneeling before me, face close to my member.
I began to test various grips on the shaft, happy to receive direction from Myrtle. Recalling the words of Professor M, I toyed with the sack and the fat spongy orbs within.
“What a strange, wonderful apparatus!” I said, causing Myrtle to laugh. The electric shivers that ran up my male body as I stroked the shaft and teased the sensitive spot beneath the head caused my knees to twitch and buckle. Bracing myself with one hand on the sink, I  began to stoke the cock in earnest, maintaining a steady rhythm and flow of pleasure. Finally, my course of stroking, produced a climax, sending long strands of sperm through the translucent figure of my ghostly friend, to soil the stone floor. I suddenly understood the sheer pleasure of male masturbatory exercise. This first experiment was judged by myself and witness Myrtle to be a “sperm-spouting success.”
But what next?
The answer presented itself shortly thereafter when one night, following an extended bout of mutual cunnilingus, Rani announced her desire to officially part with her virginity. However, she had no desire for a boyfriend, to run the gauntlet of flirtation, etc. (Like me, she was a very direct, pragmatic girl.)
“And I’d love to be a fly on the wall,” I confessed. “How lovely to see a great spatter of jizz all over this beautiful skin!” I quipped as I stroked her belly and breasts. We laughed as an idea took hold.
“If I could wave my wand and produce you a bedfellow, whom would you choose?”
“Hmmmm, how about HP!”
I vetoed that name as hitting somewhat too close to home.
She considered the question for a moment and then grinned sheepishly.
“Who is it?” I pressed
She named a particularly handsome upper classman.
“Excellent choice.”
Having no wish to duplicity, I confessed my idea to assume the physical shape of this fellow of her choice via the p-juice potion.
“I simply need a few hairs from his head.”
“You mean, you’re proposing to transform yourself into his shape and then…make love to me?”
“Just so.” I replied.
“What a delicious idea!”
She easily secured the hair and so we set about staging the deflowering of my friend. In contrast to the tactical, assaultive exercise that consummated in my own deflowering, Rani and I were determined to construct an extended erotical ritual or sorts. We set aside an entire sabbath under the pretext of cloistering ourselves in study. Acted as a lady-in-waiting, I drew a bath for Rani to allow her to relax and contemplate the fornicatory pleasure to come. Then, I prepared the room with candles, fresh sheets and even flower petals. Returning to her, I  could not help but strip my own clothing and join her in the large, soapy tub. We giggled and splashed and stroked one another. Having dried myself, I tended to my friend’s beautiful body,  drawing up every droplet slowly as I  caressed her with the terry cloth towel, gently tracing the contours of her frame, from her breasts to the small of her back down to her toes. The, kneeling before her, I could not resist offering some peremptory kisses to her genitals. I took my time, then, combing out her silky length of blue-black hair. While it was customary in her culture to send a woman off to her deflowering embellished and adorned in all sorts of gold from ornate belts to bracelets and even crowns, we were, of course, students of modest means at this time. She skipped on the several golden bangles that she did possess as well as a beautiful anklet. Valued only by her beauty, however, she was an incomparable prize. Through the day, my own ardor had risen steadily and as I led her to her four-poster and she slid onto the sheets, I feared that I might swoon out of sheer excitement.
Mastering my passions, I lit the incense. And as the lazy, hazy tendrils of smoke rose into the air, lending it the rich fragrance of sandalwood, I gazed upon my friend once more, posed there like a courtesan from some distant harem.
“My goodness, you’re a vision,” I said. Everything, it appeared, was set. “Right then. I’ll be right back.”
I enter the WC with my dose of potion - more potent and tastier with each batch. I strip off my bathrobe, gulp and transform into the body of the chosen one. Heart pounding, I watch incredulously as my body morphs before my eyes. There is always a moment of nauseating fear as one sees one’s own features melt away as the stronger male features seemed to force themselves through me, right down to my crotch where the contrast was especially pronounced. Even flaccid, the penis of our chosen male was quite significant in size. However, given my high state of emotion, I felt the immediate quickening, pounding of blood and a simply enormous erection presented itself.
“Merlin’s tits!”
I wrap myself in my dark school robe to hide my male body from her sight as I slip into the candlelit room and then, standing at her bedside, reveal myself to my friend and lover. Rani’s eyes widen, the air charged with mystery and lust.
“Oh my God! Is it really you?”
“That’s right.”
“Holy fuck!”
“I know, right?”
“Oh my God,” she repeats as she comes to appreciate fully the magnificent proportion of the penis before her, the instrument of her deflowering.
“I know, right?!”
“It’s too big!”
We both break out into hysterical giggles and I collapse onto the bed beside her.
“It’ll be just fine,” I assure her,
More giggles.
“Um… what now?”  she asks.
We laugh more.
Our laughter finally abates as I press the long rod of flesh against her hot body, causing us both to shiver. We kiss - hard, passionately with probing tongues and she pulls my body to her, running her hands hungrily over the comparatively massive male frame.
neither of us quite knowing how to proceed. I touch her face. She shivers slightly as I trace the muscle of her neck, down to her breast. I stroke her familiar body with an unfamiliar hand.
“Oh!” she moans as I touch her mound feeling the wetness there.
“Alright?”
“I’m just quite excited.”
“Me, too.”
“I confess this is my first time as well,” I say. “I mean, as a man.”
We both giggle.
“I want to touch it.”
“Well go ahead!”
Her deft brown digits encircle the phallus and I shiver.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“I know, right?”
The organ had grown completely turgid, foreskin stretched completely back, exposing the elegant curves of the glans. I direct her other hand to cradle the ball sack.
“I think I want it in my mouth.” She licks it up and down and I suddenly become aware of the magic of fellatio, sinking back onto the bed.
Oh my!
She takes the shaft into her mouth, sliding her lips around the glans ever-so-slowly and the liquid heat nearly brings me to a swoon. I can feel the play of her tongue on that particularly peccant part beneath- the frenulum. My unfamiliar body trembles, toes curling comically.
“That’s enough of that, for the moment!” I warn, reluctant to lose myself in her mouth.
From rom my own experiences I am confident that, even virginal as she is, Rani will have no trouble accommodating the rampant manhood between my hairy legs. However, a certain amount of groundwork must first be laid. Consequently, I place my face between her long, brown legs and address myself to her chaste treasure, pressing it open with my tongue. I take my time, lubricating her center, frigging her clit with my tongue. We clasp hands as her body grows more and more tense. I cannot resist bringing her to orgasm, priming her for the pumping I plan to deliver.
 “I’m so fucking hot,” she moans in the aftermath of the climax. “Make love to me.”
The moment is at hand.
Having stockpiled a set of condoms, I break out a prophylactic. Having practiced rolling the latex sleeve down on various phallic objects and tried a ‘dry-run’ on VK’s body a couple of days before. Thus, I successfully sheathed the pulsing cock.
Right, it’s showtime.
I position myself above her and she places the phallus at the entrance to her sex.
“Gods!” she squeals as she is breached. As I penetrate here gorgeous supine form, a primal understanding dawns upon me. Fully embedded, I comprehend the male urge to for carnal conquest, for sexual dominance. Rani regards me with the same look of wide-eyed erotic surprise that I must have worn on the occasion of my own deflowering. In my mind’s eye, I see DM’s furrowed brow looming over mine at the moment of my own deflowering.
“It feels so good,” moans my lover.
Her cunt grips me like a strong hand. I begin to move against it by flexing my hips and ripples of pleasure dance up my male frame.
We begin to make love.
I realize this will take some practice and I gain a measure of respect for the virginal Slytherins from my sexual seminar. Intense sensations take hold as the pace of our congress increases along with the friction of our peccant parts. Time seems to stand still, and my consciousness becomes centered upon the bundle of nerves that I push relentlessly in and out of her wet, muscular hole.
“You OK?” I grunt.
“Ya, yeh, yuh…” she grunts in reply, hands clamped on the flexing buttocks of the male body above her. The erotic tempo builds steadily, the thundering red express train of lust switches onto an express track. My body is extended and tensed like a plank, heart pounding. I fear for a moment that it will explode, but something else snaps and a wave of release sweeps over me as, and with a mighty groan, I give myself over the spasms, the glorious pumping of seed from deep within this strange body.
I sink onto the bed beside her, both of us panting and befuddled.
“You OK?”
“Oh my God…”
“I know, right?”
My friend’s intimate fragrance has melded with the sandalwood. I spill jizz all over the bed, removing the condom.
“Holy fuck…”
“What?”
“It’s still hard as a rock!”
“Sweet!”
“Here…”
I place myself over her once more and she takes hold of the shaft.
I slip into another rubber quickly and then take her from behind. Something has come over me. I revel in the power and majesty of that position from the male perspective. A new appreciation for the curves of a woman’s hips dawns on me as they that afford natural points of grip to support long penetrative thrusts into her body. Our flesh makes loud slapping sounds as we fuck. Her moans fill the room and I feel her body begin to tremble and shake as she pulls herself away, face into the pillow. The erection flops, still hard and hungry. I yank off the rubber and take the shaft into my fist. I come all over her back, pearly fluid pooling in the long depression of her spine, painting her beautiful brown skin in a spatter of erotic abstraction. Finally, exhausted, we drift off to sleep in one another’s arms. Hours later, I stir, disoriented for a moment and then realize I cradle my lover in my own arms, the effects of the potion having worn off.
With the tupping of my lover, Rani, in the body of the male, I have given up a second virginity. Moreover, I have tapped into a whole new world of sexual discovery. Thus begins a splendiferous secondary sexual life of crypto-cocksmithery, which will be filled with many unexpected twists and turns. Unfortunately, however, our romance is short lived. As matters escapate at school the following year, Rani's her parents have the amazing foresight hto withdraw her from school and send her to an academy in India. But our erotical paths wer edestined to cross again, years later.



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