A Confession by Hermione G.

BY : Scarlett_Pimpernal
Category: Harry Potter > General > General
Dragon prints: 40062
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: HG the Golden Snatch
The ins-and-outs of screwing for gold.

Having fucked me every which-way in a most energetic and skillful manner, forcing me to succumb to multiple orgasmic spasms and finally painting my torso with the spending of that awesome, immense magical phallus, Madam settled in beside me. As the instrument of my sexual destruction slowly returned to its resting state, slipping from her loins like some horrific Geiger alien, she dallied her svelte fingertips over my body, toying with the mess she had just made. Spent and delightfully debauched, I luxuriated in the moment and her touch, enfolded in a complex melange of potent fragrances: the exotic perfume she had gifted me earlier in the evening, my own sexual scent intermingled with that of my new lover, and the intense musk of the ejaculate. It was in this warm aftermath, this milieu of sexual somnabulence that, with her impeccable sense of timing, Madam ‘popped the question.’

“A thought occurs…We may have an opening that you could fill.”

It turned out that one of the most popular girls, Veronica, had decamped from the prostutional coven. Having accumulated an educational fund, she had moved on to pursue her dream of attending dental school.  “A girl of her oral prowess should have a brilliant career ahead of her,” observed the Madam, wryly. “Why not fill her place?”

“By getting my place filled?”

“Indeed, you cheeky monkey,” she replied. “And filling your own coffers.”

Of course, I decided to take the Madam up on her offer. How could I resist complicating my already fraught hedonistic secret life? The thrill of subversion, the risk of exposure and shame, the opportunities of debasing myself before the desires of others thrilled me to no end. Whoredom is not everyone’s cup of tea, and I would never go so far as to advocate it generally, but in my case, it worked out quite nicely. The coin I was able to bank during the few years I was active at The Three Broomsticks carried me through a nasty divorce and graduate school. My whoring rested, however, on certain conditions: school came first and I was not willing to give up the other daliances I had developed. Moreover, working so close to school raised the issue of identity and discovery. So, it was due to the dynamic magical duo of  P-juice and Time Turner that I was able to commit a few nights a week to this new endeavor.

“And how was your first week at the Three Broomsticks?” asked Professor S during our regular seance.

“Three broomsticks, indeed,” I replied. “That must be my nightly average.” As had become habitual, I sipped absinthe and fingered myself as I confessed my latest sexual activities to my mentor. “It’s quite a lark, actually,” I continued. “I quite love the mystery of who will be coming through the door next. Just last night I had a straightforward in-and-outer, a foot fetishist, and a touch-o-phobe who just wanted to watch me get myself off. And Veronica’s body is simply dreamy…delicious.” Veronica, a tight-bodied 20-something had, fortuitously left behind a hairbrush with several of her chestnut hairs entwined. Thus, I was able to assume her shape and, along with some tips from the Madam and the other girls as to the proclivities of certain regular clients, was able to slip into her shoes -as well as her bed. She was a handfull of inches taller than I, with larger breasts - firm and high-mounted. But it was her luxuriously meaty labia, sensitive and quite large when engorged that I found most sexy. Her features were quite exquisite as well: a true beauty with deep brown eyes.

"The other girls seem to be warming up to me,” I added. “At first they were quite suspicious of a shape-shifting witch in their midst, but you know, they seem to have quite forgotten that I am someone else!” Here, I skipped over certain details in my narrative. While they did warm to me as “Veronica,” I was generally given the cold shoulder until I forged one solid friendship through Sapphic sex-play. To some degree, I am to blame since I tended to keep to myself. And then, there was Suzette.

Suzette, a voluptuous brunette with big boobs matched by a big mouth, had set herself up as a sort of top girl - unofficially, of course, since Madam M took no favorites. My affair with her was strictly a compartmentalized business and I expect she shagged some of the other girls as well. When we made love, I called upon her in my own person. Suzette simply set out to dominate the crew through force of personality and faux intimacy, using candor or “honesty” as a sort of manipulative tool. “Oh, you know you look a bit chubby in that, why don’t you try…” It did not take me long to figure out her game and so I generally steered clear of the conniving bitch.

Given my lesbianic tendencies, Madam frequently paired me with a delightful blonde named Dillion when clients splurged on doubling of their company, or when they wanted to get off by watching girl-on-girl action. Due to these delightful dalliances, Dillion became my particular friend in the house. Otherwise, I steered clear of socializing with the other girls and succumbing to the petty politics that only a bevy of hothouse adolescent femmes can produce. I was, after all, there to master fucking not friendship.

After a couple of months at the Three Broomsticks, I fell into a bit of a rhythm. About half of my clients were regulars with whom I was able to build a bit of rapport as I learned more and more about their tastes. Of course, a returning client is always gratifying. None, perhaps, moreso than my young touch-o-phobe as I call him: a pleasant, sensitive, and handsome soul, but quite pathologically introverted. I assumed he would warm up to getting his hands on me, but he seemed determined to just watch and masturbate. And so, I became more and more inventive in my presentations for him, allowing him to pick from a variety of sex toys and direct me as his imagination fancied. In this regard, he seemed to open up and together we entered a powerful communal erotic space. Then, in what I reckon to be an act of up-selling, I was able to bring Dillion into our sex play along with a particularly large and lewd strap-on dildo. I  pride myself that I was eventually able to get my hands - and mouth - on him, to what I am confident amounted to a great deal of mutual satisfaction. It was, of course, just a matter of time until someone I knew came in for pleasure. It should not have surprised me when good old AF appeared. What else did he have to spend his coin on other then cooze? He worked his way through the lineup of girls and I had the opportunity to pleasure him in the body of Veronica. But it was the appearance of another fellow that proved to be most memorable.

It was following the awarding of the Quidditch Cup to our rival house that the team’s beaming sponsor appeared, all swagger and gleaming tresses of bone-white hair with that snake-of-a-wand-walking-stick. He proudly ushered in his son along with the captain and keeper of the team to treat them to a unique victory celebration, courtesy of the cooze of the Three Broomsticks. My gut stirred strongly as they entered. My heart leapt into my throat and I had to gather my thoughts by directing my gaze to the full boobs and long legs of Veronica’s body to convince myself that I was indeed in cognito.

As Madam M greeted them, I gathered my wits and presented my game face, along with the other girls. DM, I had to admit was looking quite handsome and desireable even if he oozed arrogance and hauteur, the bastard! I had avoided any sort of competetive moves with the other girls up to that point, but something about the way Suzette was eyeing my putative-lover-and-sworn-enemy set off something deep within me. A mercenary par excellance, Suzette had sussed out where the power lay in the room, or rather whom she should lay in the interest of advancing her book of business and profile. A great protective surge of emotion seized me; I was damned if Suzette would get her meat hooks in my…frenemy. And so, without even thinking, I did something entirely uncharacteristic. I inserted myself into the throng and made bold to take DM by the arm, stealing a march on Junior Madam Suzette.

“I know who you are,” I said. “You are the Seeker.”

“Quidditch fan, are you,” beamed DM, basking in the adulation.

“Well, not really, actually,” I said. “ I sometimes see things about people.”

“Clairvoyant, eh?”

“A bit. I have a clear picture of you in my mind’s eye, riding a broom, capturing a gold…”


We exchanged names and pleasantries. As he schooled me in the basics of the game, I was gratified to see that Suzette had moved on to other prey.

“I know just the prize for you, Quidditch star,” I said, and steered him toward my friend, Dillion. With her mass of stunning golden hair and lithe, petite frame swathed in white lace lingerie, she was in fine form - as beautiful as I had ever seen her. A fitting prize. “Allow me to introduce you to Dillion. She is very special. Think of her as a little golden snatch,” I added in sotto voce in the hope that only himself and my sexy friend would hear. “Far more fun than a dusty old tin cup.”

“And how are we getting on, here?” asked Madam, gently inserting herself into our pod in order to advance the evening to the transactional stage.

“I think we have made a beautiful match, right here,” I said, gratified to see that DM had warmed nicely to Dillion.

“Wonderful,” said Madam M. “Why don’t you escort our young champion to the Sappphire room.”

As Dillion led him toward the doors leading to the back rooms, I basked in a sense of comfort, knowing he would be in good hands with my energetic, concupiscent friend. Then turned back to me.

“Well, aren’t you coming, then, O clairvoyant one?”

M senior, the financial backer of the soiree, seemed more than happy to underwrite the expansion of his son’s companionship - and sexual ambition. Madam, always happy to double up the business, gladly obliged. “Off you go, then, Veronica!” she said with a wink.

The Sapphire room was the marquee spot for screwing at the Three Broomsticks. Roomy and well-appointed, it also boasted a full bar which we immediately tapped. As I poured three shots, Dillion and DM got down to business with some serious snogging. As gratified as I was to be along for the ride, I reminded myself that I was playing a delicate game. I had a facade to maintain. Moreover, I felt a certain degree of investment in the affair. Not only did I want DM to enjoy a bang-up, toe-curling escapade, I was eager to see him deliver a superlative pounding to my friend Dillion. When they had come up for air, I  helped DM out of his jacket. It was then I found myself in his arms. As our tongues worked against one another, it occurred to me that in spite of having fucked dozens of times, we had never really kissed. That basic level of intimacy had eluded us in our bizarre lust-hate relationship. I melted into his strong embrace, knees buckling as I pressed my body to his and felt the pressure of his erection against me. I made bold to grind my sex - Veronica’s responsive sex - against his thigh.

Damn, he’s a good kisser…

When DM and I finally parted, we downed another round of shots, a playful urge came over me.

“Now, you may be a big noise on the Quidditch green, but we’ve a different game that we play around here.”

“Oh, really?” he said, gamely playing along. I  had never seen the charming side of the bastard.

“Yes, we call it Quimditch,” said Dillion, following my lead.

Good girl.

“And how do you play?” asked our young man.

“First, you need a pair of hoops.”


“Well, holes,” I clarified.

“And they must be wet.”

"Two wet holes?”  said DM. “Wherever shall we get those?”

"They must be very wet.”

“I fancy I am going to like this game,” said DM.

I could not resist pulling Dillion to me and jamming my tongue down her throat.

"And we need a broom.”

"Yes, a long, stiff broom.”

“I know where we can get one,” I said.

We slid over to DM and took down his trousers and underwear. The familiar form of his glorious cock sprang out.

“We’re in luck: the latest model… the Boner 2000…and two nice fat blodgers.”

Kneeling on either side of him, the jutting, pale, blue-veined shaft between us, we began to address ourselves in earnest to the delivery of oral pleasure to our client. He stroked our hair as we ran our tongues in tandem along the length of the shaft, repeatedly. Then we began to take turns pleasuring him, prodding the tip with our extended tongues, gently, ever so gently at first, bringing our own tongues together now and again. We escalated out attentions and divided our forces. I applied myself to the plump sack, leaving my golden haired friend to service the long, smooth organ.

When I had thoroughly worked his hot flesh with my tongue, I rose and returned to snogging our client as I removed his shirt. I slid my silk-sheathed body along his, working my way behind him. I had developed, I admit, a certain fascination, a concentrated lust for the visual and tactile aspects of his body. I ran my hands along the muscles of his shoulders and back. Dillion, meanwhile continued to delivering a superlative deep throating of that pale cock. I ran my hands up and down his back before clasping at his ass, those tight-muscled cheeks. I could feel his tension as he concentrated on the management the pleasure being delivered through Dill's mouth without losing it altogether and dumping his load in her throat. I sank to my knees and began to work him from behind…

“Oh fuck,” he groaned.

I could feel his body respond to our ministrations. It was clear we had him where we wanted.

But I wanted more. I was ovecome, I confess. Overcome with the booze, the subterfuge, the encounter with two such beautiful bodies. I ran my tongue over the flesh of his ass, biting, and nibbling, prying the lobes apart and mashing my face into his cracks. Probing, licking, I laid my tongue up against his ass hole as I stroked his thighs and then his ball sack. I knew from experience that he could stand up to a good, hard blow, but I had no idea if he could hold out much longer against our concentrated erotic assault.

So, I broke things off in order to divest Dillion of her brassiere and then my own, allowing our client to fondle and lick those superlative mounds of alabaster while I set up another line of shots. Diligent Dill kept a solid grip on our brookstick that remained hard, strong and slick with saliva. I dribbled Goldschager down her front so DM could lick it off. Then I let him suck some off my fingers, before hungrily mashing my mouth to his once more. We tangled there, shedding clothing until we had stripped him down and stood in only our G-Strings.

“It’s game-time,” I said, pulling them both onto the playing field, the luxurious four-poster.

“And how do I win?” he asked.

"Well the game ends when you fill the golden snatch, I replied. “But the beauty of Quimditch - everyone wins. Now, I think, it is time to reveal the golden snatch.”

I tugged the ends of the knots that held the semi-transparent G-string in place and then her quim was entirely bare to us, magnificent in its golden-haired glory, shimmering in the glow of the gaslights.  The gentle flicker of the light playing upon the beautiful crop of hair that embellished that superlative mons, that carefully pruned crop residing above the delicate pink petals of her intimate flesh, alreadly pleasantly glowing with the moisture of arousal. I had fully expected, anticipated and desired to lubricate the golden snatch in anticipation of a spirited penetration by my nemesis - but he beat me to it. He buried his face hungrily between her downy thighs. She writhed deliciously and clutched at the covers as his tongue connected with her center. The spectacle thrilled me to the core - so much that I was forced to clutch at my own, which is to say, Veronica’s genitalia. But my self stimulation was curtailed by Dillion who pulled loose my own G-Sting and then pulled me onto her face whereby her tongue began its own assault against my peccant parts and I could observe the attentions being paid to her own cunny by our client.

I think my favorite thing about sex via P-juice is the splendor of another body - unique in its responsiveness, its sensitivity and, or course, geometry of flesh. There is something virginal in certainly the first first forays in a foreign body and even in its extended use. While I had been screwing as Veronica for some weeks, now, there remained something new and exciting about her body. And so, as ludicrous as it sounds, I felt both virginal and whoreish as Dillion worked her tongue against the large, sensitive labia of Veronica. Her skill as a cunnilinguist was admirable and it was not long before I felt tremors through my tensed thighs. My excitement was amplified as I watched DM assault her clit with his own hungry tongue and work two digits in and out of her dripping hole. A part of me could not help but acknowledge that he had not ever gone down on HG - though that would not always be the case, I am pleased to confess. With his other hand, DM maintained a tight grip on his hard-on. And I expected that it would not be long before it was deployed onto the field. Before then, however, I felt Dillion’s lithe frame writhe under me just as the first orgasmic spasms seized Veronica’s loins. Whimpering and moaning as she came, my intrepid friend continued her sexual assault on me, determined to bring me off

“Oh, fuck…”

As my friend caught her breath, I took his cock into my mouth again. I wanted that fuck pole good and wet for what was, well, to come. I knew, oh so well, my lover’s propensity for producing a good deal of pre-come. And I knew from experience the best way to produce it. Maintaining a tight grip and stretching the skin of his cock back - even to the edge of pain. He grunted and the erection throbbed stongly in my grip, head swelling, ripe and purple, then beginning to ooze in anticipation and preparation for the full-on fuck. With a finger tip rubbed, lubed the cock head. His beautiful body, vampirically pale in the gas light, gleamed with a fine sheen of perspiration. He gazed ino my eyes, full of lust and ignorant of just who it was sucking his cock. My friend’s cunt juice had run down his chin and neck. I licked it off, relishing its strong flavor.

“Oh, that’s so fucking hot…” I heard Dillion say.

It was time for the main event. I held his erection, incredibly stiff just between thumb and forefinger and with the other hand on his butt cheek, nudged the oozing cock head just up to Dill’s moist golden transom.

“Easy, easy does it…”

The excitement, the electricity and the sense of anticipation was palpable. The intimate scent of my blonde friend seemed to hold us in an erotic thrall. Our young bodies bleeding pheremone into the thick air of the Sapphire room, heavy with the scents of sex. I brushed the tip of his cock against Dillion’s intimate flesh and she shivered and gasped in the most delightful manner. Through the connection of my hand, I could feel DM tremble as well. I felt like a conductor, orchestrating the power of this charged sexual moment in my hands. When I was confident that they were poised at the advantageous geometry and moment, I pressed him forward slowly and the full cock head breached her and then slid deeply into her body. Her brow wrinkled as she experienced what I had come to know and relish as that long, smooth entry of his cock. The beautiful, golden-haried quim spread and swallowed the stiff member, and the prominent blue vein slowly receded from view and then he was buried to the hilt.

I knew that he liked to ‘settle in,’ so to speak, to grind himself deeply in the body of his partner. And he did so now as Dillion grasped tightly to his butt, legs splayed wide, back arched in pleasure. I sat back and played with Veronica’s cunt as I enjoyed the spectacle. They ground together, each lost in their own flood of sensation before almost comically noticing one another, as which point, more passionate and deep tongue-snogging ensued. Then, they began to fuck. With smooth, confident strokes, he began to work Dillion, the perfect match for anyone desiring either to delight in or despoil innocence. DM seemed to be revelling in both. I admit I felt felt quite gratified as DM managed himself with confidence and aplomb. Many clients find themselves intimidated once behind closed doors with a whore. But not DM. And I attribute some of his savoir faire to our sessions together in that horrid, dank, dungeon.

Taught him everything he knows!

I felt a certain flush of pride as my lover - I reckon it is fair to refer to him in that way - fucked Dillion from the front and then flipped her onto her tummy and began to work her doggy-style. Grasping hold of her hips, he pumped her with great energy, filling the room with the rhythm of slapping flesh, until her loins begain to tremble. When the sensations became too intense for my blonde comrade, she squirmed her way off of the phallus. Her glistening, pearly-pink lips slowly regurgitating that long, pale phallus. Then he turned his predatory gaze on me.

“Your turn…”


It’s so good!

That familiar long, smooth entry, confidently plunging deep to the hilt, grinding against me, a powerful wave of pleasure breaking over me. The body of Veronica, bathed in hormones submitted utterly to the conquest, legs wrapping around his torso, hands grasping at his buttocks, grasping handfuls of taut muscle. We mashed our bodies for a time. He shifted his weight and position and then began to work the phallus in and out. I shifted, placing hand on his chest so that I could see the organ, framed by Veronica’s meaty cunt-lips.

“Oh, fuck…. Fuck me…” Gods, it was good. My eyes feasted on his sexy frame, the pale, flat stomach as Veronica’s hungry cunt fed on cock.
He worked Veronica’s body like a pro and then moved back to Dilly. I arranged myself on top of her and he began to alternate between our dripping snatches until he lost himself inside my blonde friend. As the come dribbled and leaked from my exhausted friend, I could see that in spite of the climax, our lusty gentleman was up for more. I flopped onto my back and took him deep inside my body yet again. His sweat dripped down onto me and I stroked his damp flesh as he slowly worked his erection within me, grinding against Veronica’s sensitive clitty.

“Tell me… what you…see,” he grunted, a look of terrible intensity in his eyes.

I mashed my eyes shut as I clamped my legs around his back and grasped the flesh of his arms, trying to gather my thoughts amid the rush of erotic sensation. Then I opened them and gazed upon my conquerer.

“I…see….I see you, I see her…I see you fucking her for the first time!” “ Affecting wonderment required no duplicity at all. The present moment of ecstacy meshed with that memorable first time. He had transformed physically, of course, with a longer torso and face. He moved with more confidence, but still with that edge of danger. I knew I was playing with fire, but I simply could not resist advancing this risky game.

“What do you see?” he grunted, eyes hungry with curiosity. Of course a part of me thrilled at the notion that he hungered for scraps of memory of his encounter with HG while ostensibly fucking someone else! I admit, my ego, my heart, sucked up the psychic attention like a sponge. And however ill-considered and duplicitous, I admit I began to narrate, to play out this jest of clairvoyance.

“Easy, that’s it…” I directed him into a steady rhythm of which I knew he was quite capable. His endurance had become quite remarkable. And I wanted this moment to last as long as possible.

“I see…a room, it’s not a bedroom… strange… glasses and beakers and cauldrons…classroom, is it?! Banged her in a classroom, did you, naughty boy?!” we both smiled at that as sweat fell from his brow onto the flat belly of Veronica. “She’s pretty…lots of hair…”

“Yes…” he continues to pump away.

“She’s… wants you… badly…oh, it’s so wet…”


“Feels so good…”

"So horny…”

“Fucking her…”


“She wants you so bad it hurts,” I said, words spilling out like the wetness leaking out of Veronica with each deep thrust. I had never confessed it before, but I had thought it, dreamt it so often, up in my dark room, under the covers of my four-poster, handle of my wand embedded deep in my cunt.

“Confusing…I see others about…two others… but it’s all fancy dress. She’s  taking off some horrible fru-fru pink dress…Not much of a dresser, your girl.”

“She’s not my girl,” he grunted through gritted teeth.

I let that one pass.

“She looks over at you as your friend is fucking her. She wants you…I can feel it…You…you’re so hard… but…”



“What? What the fuck?!"

“Fuck her, fuck, me…Make her come, make me come…!”

Unable to maintain the frenzied pace of the fuck, he released all the tension in his plank-like frame into me as I clutched his ass, holding him deep within me. Then he collapsed onto me, heaving great breaths, even whimpering in a rather endearing manner.

“You want her…so badly,” I whispered into his ear, our bodies fused together in sweat and lust, his cock still twitching deep inside me. “But it’s like you hate her, too.”

There was nothing more to say.

We were quite still and spent when he finally pulled himself off the bed, dressed and slid from the room. Dilly was the first to stir.

“Um…OK, that was hot.”


“Like, really hot…”


I slid myself over her body and nestled between her legs, revelling in the strong scent of her sex. I began to lick his come out of her center, tasting the combination of his strong sperm and her spending. With her crack slick with my saliva and her intimate fluid, I again pressed the pad of a finger up against the tight bung.

“Yes…” she whispered.

I pushed it in…

“On my God…”

The knock at the door startled us

“Are you ladies alright in there?”

“Just fine, Madam…”

“Alright, then, take as long as you need.”

Oh, we will…


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