Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Primal	By : PrimalDragon Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 22230 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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Chapter List
- 1-Harry's Ascension
- 2-Ron's Relizations.
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Looking down at that piece of shit licking my boots for the first time I couldn't help but give the thing a viscous grin.

If you asked Harry Potter if he would enjoy utterly dominating another living thing that morning he may have stuttered his denials and exclaim how sick and twisted, and Ungolden it was to even contemplate those thoughts.

But beyond that in the back of my mind I would have cherished the thought as a secret deep dark fantasy that surely must be suppressed as surely giving in, in any way, would make me closer and closer to the monster known as Voldemort.

I give the naked boy a wicked kick to his ribs as he sprawls out completely before me on his side.

Ignoring the crack and whimpers I use the heal to roll him towards me out from his fetal position onto his back.

As I look down at his tear streaked face, I notice his slightly broken blue eyes look up at my pleadingly at me.

On instinct I spit on its face and idly wonder if he closed his eyes in time to avoid the first of many of my fluids invading his many orifices to come.

"P-P-Please Harry, don't do this. You don't have to do this. Just let us go back to the way things were before."

If this was the Harry Potter from this morning it never would have evolved to where it was at now.

"Ron, you don't seem to realize the reality of the situation. Before I treated you as an equal, something with worth, but sadly I was obviously mistaken."

I grabbed him by the back of his neck lifting him up, before uncurling my wrist moving my hand to choke his jugular. I push him into the nearby wall. He winces as his back hits the window sill.

I start to squeeze.

"My mistake was always treating you like an equal. From the moment on the train I should have known better. I have always been the hero and you have always been the sidekick. You are the squire to my knight. The slave to my master. I should never have let you mistaken your place."

I let go and he collapses to the floor. He leans back and gasps for air and brings his legs in front of him and bends his knees into a more relaxed position.

"We are not equal, I am your superior. Just as all of your brothers are also your superior. You dream of being headboy yet you have the worse marks of all Gryffindor boys while I have the best. You dream of being Quidditch captain yet the majority of your time here you have not been on the team, and you still aren't. You dream about being prefect yet the only authority you wield in these halls is that which you claim from being my friend. You use it to pressure others, your power is mine. All of your family is known for a special trait, a unique item of worth. Yours is your friendship to me. Don't you understand yet? Without me you are nothing, you will always be nothing. You wield whatever influence I allow you to wield. You. Are. Mine."

Its eyes tear up with the first tears from emotion, instead of pain. He knows it is true. The world knows it is true. Until today I did not.

Staring into the eyes of the dragon awoke something in me. A primal truth of the universe gifted to the dragons maybe. An intimate awareness of power hierarchies tied directly into survival of the fittest. A grasp of what is needed to be done, who is who and what their worth is.

It was strange immediately after the task. When first laying eyes on Madame Pompfrey having an instinctive voice say, Trusted Mentor, Mother, was creepy.

Then I met up with Hermione outside the tent and the same instinct said Yours. Perfect Mate. Take Her. She was smart, strong, and attractive. All sorts of reasoning behind each instinct flowed streemlesly through my mind. The troll, her unlocking a door, the anger at seeing her petrified, the hugs, her repairing the glasses on the train first year, her staring at you from the corner of her eye in History of Magic. The evidence just flowed, everything made perfect sense.

Having the instinct when meeting Ron scream Yours. Slave. Discipline. Punish. Fuck. with all of its related evidence was at first completely disturbing, but quickly stripped away former golden reasoning. Ron clinging on to him during the first train ride and the first week. Ron sacrificing himself at the chess board. Ron begging you to help save his sister. The thought of Padfoot stealing his property as he dragged Ron under the Willow. Ron tentatively asking to be involved when Harry was talking to others in Gryffindor and other houses, or more often the Quidditch team. Ron questioning is place in their friendship due to a lack of assertiveness on my part. Ron being a jerk as I stand by saying nothing. Ron making a fool of himself when I knew better. The evidence just flowed, everything starting to make perfect sense.

But it was fixable. Ron wanted to be submissive, as is his nature from growing up the youngest brother with a more highly celebrated younger sister. He was looking for a place to be submissive from day one, while I wasn't exactly looking to be dominant. Yes I could have guided it into a firm friendship if things haven't degraded to this point, but to fix it more drastic measures needed to be taken.

He would need to learn that I owned him completely, mind, body, and soul. To do that I would need to fuck him. In time we would see if it stayed sexual or not, but for now it was needed.

I kneel down on one knee and grab his jowls forcing him to look into my eyes.

"Do you understand, Slave?"

"Yes Har- " I quickly push his head back cracking it against the stone wall. If Ron was a muggle he probably would of had a concussion.

"It is Master, Slave, Do. You. Under-Stand?"

A shiver runs through his body. Good, he might just be getting this, "Ye-Yes Master."

The newly awakened primal side of me was not only viscous and sadistic but demanded total submission. Even Hermione would have to submit when needed, but in all other matters we would be equal. Looking in her eyes I cannot help but see her pleads for kinky. In the bed I would own her but in all other ways, we would own each other. Maybe in the future she would own Ron too.

Standing up I unzip the only pair of jeans that fit, a gift from Hermione, and look down to see his eyes switching between looking in my own and looking at the now unzipped fly.

In a somewhat cool, but reassuring, voice I command, "Suck."

Hesitatingly he kneels before me and reaches to release my semiflaccid erection.

I can't but help my smirk morph into a look of approval as he starts to rub my hardening dick to its full nine and three quarter inch potential. The last doubt of my superiority over him vanish from his eyes as he must be comparing his barely four and a half inch long sissy penis with the girth of an American Quarter to my beater bat.

Tentatively he licked from my balls to the tip before engulfing the head and twirling his tongue around it like a lollipop. Slowly he begins to bob up and down going a little deeper every time. After a few minutes of frustratingly slow progress downwards the hands resting on the top of his head casually applying pressure applies a sudden force, to him at least, resulting in a further inch or two of progress.

Not nearly enough.

After he pulls his head up, the next time I force his head down I accompany it with a thrust.

And just like that a pitifully executed blowjob turned into a skull fuck with Ron gagging constantly from repeated invasions of his throat.

Every dozen thrusts or so I would hold his head down, stop and look at his struggling face with his nose pressed into my pubes.

After a while of using his skull like this I pulled out leaving my head in his mouth. I exploded filling his mouth.

"Swallow."

He did.
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Primal