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The Slave of Bones	By : JayDee Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Amelia Bones Views: 85094 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Part 1
- 2-Part 2
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The Slave of Bones

By JD joandoe@gmail.com

Description: With nothing to lose, Amelia Bones gives into her lifelong darkest fantasies and forcefully takes Harry as an unwilling sex slave.
Content Codes – Part 1: ChallgengeFic, COMPLETE, Dom, Fingering, HJ, M/F, Minor2 (age:16), PWP, RapeFic, Solo, Slave, Viol

Disclaimer: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. 100% fiction means real life rape is WRONG. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described. If you feel rape in the real world is a good thing, bend over in a prison and whistle dixie. While I'm disclaiming, racism, homophobia and other bigotry of any kind are also really fucking stupid. I don’t own Harry Potter series, or any of the characters and make no profit from this story. Please read the story codes to ensure that you are not going to be offended by, or otherwise dislike, the content.
Additional Credit: Story based on request and input from Maxxx7491

http://www.hentai-foundry.com/user/Maxxx7491/profile
Part 1:
There was no possibility of error, not when two seers had independently told Amelia Bones that she would die during the summer of 1996. Neither had known how, but it wouldn’t have mattered; should the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement avoid her initially predicted fate, another would surely claim her. You could laugh over destiny’s table, but in the long run you’d roll snake eyes. To say she’d been annoyed would be like saying that Weasleys had a tendency towards red hair: Something of an understatement.
All of her adult life had been dedicated to a force of justice; to doing the right thing, whatever the cost to her personal life. She’d not so much as had a boyfriend in decades after breaking off with her fiancée for being a distraction. While her sibling’s daughter grew into a fine young witch, Amelia had foregone children to rise through the ranks as Madam Bones. If only the seers had foreseen for her a role as Minister of Magic... And what had it earned her? Nothing more than an early death in middling middle age, presumably at the hands of one of the few wizards more powerful than her. Well, being a good woman hadn’t worked out, so before she died she decided to be bad. To take something just for her; the boy Potter seemed ideal, just old enough to provide some fight before being broken into an unwilling slave. Her ancestor, Captain Bones, had been a pirate and a slaver and he hadn’t bothered with safe words, informed consent or sobriety and neither would Amelia.
The decision wasn’t entirely out of character. In the long years of her lonely solo sex life, she’d moved from simple vanilla fantasies almost as soon as she started masturbating regularly. Though always a consummate professional while working, she would enjoy much more sexual re-imaginings of beating and capturing foes. As she rubbed and fingered herself in a dark bedroom, she’d often imagine coercing prisoners into sex for freedom, or even forcing them to pleasure her to save their lives. Bringing herself off time and again, she’d always assured herself that fantasy would never intersect with the real world in which she was a highly capable combat witch who fought magically skilled foes. With the feeling of dying soon, her lifelong inhibiting factors melted like butter, and Harry, who she’d roughly fingered herself about after his hearing, was the obvious candidate for her depraved depredations.
The preparations were simple enough; One of her predecessors had had a high security cell built into the wall of the department head’s office, known to only a few Aurors besides herself. She had restraints and equipment taken from magical criminals like Terry the thestral Flasher and Bad Betty, The Boy Binding Ball Breaker of Birmingham. She had the wards and trinkets to prevent a magical struggle in the office, and the physical strength and healthy body carefully maintained from her front line days to take on even a 16 year old Quidditch athlete like Potter. She knew how to fight dirty, and she had a lot of other dirty things to do too.

“I hope it’s alright for me to be here at the Ministry,” said the boy himself a few days later, “I’m supposed to spend the summer in the loving bosom of my family.”
Tonks chuckled at the sarcasm and replied, “Oh, it’s not going to be for long. I understand Madam Bones has a lot to discuss with you. The word around is that she was pretty impressed with your performance at the hearing.”
“Well, I’m not complaining.”
Harry had been collected and brought to the Ministry by Tonks, who he liked and trusted, on the instruction of Madam Bones herself. Sure, there were other methods to get him there, but the safest was an auror escort. While he only had growing romantic feelings for one girl, the attractive auror was good company.
“Just down here, and then I’ll leave you. I’ve got to go investigate a supply of magic items finding their way into muggles’ hands over in Peckham. Fell off the back of a lorry, I expect.”
“Good luck, I’m sure it won’t be any bother for you!”
The door of the office was imposing, yet functional, as befitted Amelia’s station. Tonks knocked once, waited for a request to enter, and then opened it for Harry. He stepped through with a cheerful goodbye, and with a nod to Madam Bones, Tonks shut the door behind him. Harry hadn’t seen the witch since the hearing at which Fudge had tried to stitch him up. He felt a debt of gratitude for the fairness and justice which she’d shown – not knowing how differently things would have gone, if she had received her death prophecies beforehand. She continued writing in a large tome, but indicated a comfortable chair before her desk in which Harry sat.
“Good Morning, Madam Bones,” began Harry stiffly, “I’m happy to help you any way I can. It can’t be any worse than what I was going to do during the summer!”
She finished writing and closed the tome. Dropping one hand beneath her desk, she slid it inside her robes and felt between her legs. Already wet! Amelia slid a finger inside, aroused to be masturbating covertly in her office before a visitor. She wanted to maintain a stern expression, but couldn’t help biting her lower lip as she met Harry’s earnestly helpful expression. She wondered if her tightness was due to a life of dutiful near-celibacy, or simply a side effect of her physical fitness and health. The handsome teenager in the chair before her had no idea that her middle-aged quim ached for his dick. After studying him in silence for almost a minute, she pulled her probing finger free and addressed him with nary a tremor in her voice.
“I am glad to hear it, Harry. After I got you off at that show trial, I didn’t think I’d see you for some time... but here you are for interrogation. You handed in your wand any other items when you entered the building.?”
“Yes, Tonks bagged it all up. She was very thorough.”
“Good, good. We think she’ll go far.”
Amelia stood, her robe sliding across as she rose, and slowly walked around her desk. With the musty smell of old books, and stranger smells of potions around the room Harry didn’t catch the strong scent clinging to her drying finger. He noted again that Amelia was taller than him by an inch of so as she walked. The black robes she wore hid entirely the shape of her body, but her face and hands showed the good health she possessed even decades older than him. He assumed she intended to show him something, and so was surprised when she stopped behind the chair and rested her hands on his shoulders. She gripped, not hard, but with intimation of greater strength than he’d have expected.
“Madam Bones? What...”
“Shh, Harry. As I said, I got you off, and now I want you to get me off.”
“Off what?”
Harry blushed as Madam Bones began to massage his shoulders through the simple grey t-shirt he wore. Her meaning had become clear; she wanted him to do for her the things he imagined doing with girls his own age. Still a virgin, the recently turned sixteen boy was keen to experiment, but certainly not with a woman older than his late mother. His blush turned crimson as he felt her nibble gently at his left ear, and her blonde-grey hair slide against his neck.
“Madam Bones!” he managed, “I really can’t help you with that. You’re, um, not my type. Please could you stop that?”
She didn’t, instead asking “I need you to be clear on this, Potter? You don’t consent to any sexual activity with me?”
“No! Certainly not!”
There was a crash, unheard outside the soundproofed office, as Amelia suddenly pulled Harry’s chair backwards. He landed hard, crying out as his head bounced off the hard floor and looked up into Madam Bones’ stern face. She smiled at him, a sudden smile, fierce and hungry. Harry blinked, fearing for a moment that her eyes had held something of the madness he’d last seen in the face of Bellatrix. Had the real Madam Bones been replaced by a polyjuiced impostor? There had been a lot of that going around.
“Very good, boy. I wouldn’t enjoy what I’m going to do anywhere near as much if you were willing. Now, take off your clothes. All of them.”
As she spoke, she tugged her own robes off. From his awkward position on chair, Harry looked up past black leather boots into which went black stockings suspended from a matching basque that apparently had some wiring to support and push up her long-covered breasts. Harry turned away, unwilling to stare, and tried to block out the memory of her swollen, moist, labia and thick, red nipples. She’d clearly shaved, or waxed, or used some sort of wizard product as Harry would’ve put money on the kind of thick gray bush that house elves could get lost in rather than what he’d seen. He started struggling to his feet; Madam Bones slapped his face hard, leaving a stinging redness that felt hotter than the crack to his head. He stopped, shocked and scared.
“I told you to strip, not stand. You will do everything I say, as of today Harry Potter the wizard is no more. You are now slave and I... I have complete control over whether you live, or you die. I am your Goddess.”
Such power! Was this what Captain Bones had felt all those years ago? She was going to take the boy’s innocence right there on her office floor. He was still clothed, seemingly trying to process her actions. Reaching down, she pulled on his t-shirt, tugging it hard up his athletic torso. One lens of his glasses cracked as they hit the floor, knocked free by the t-shirt she pulled over his arms. He only resisted at the last moment, but with a sharp tug Amelia had it beyond his grasp and thrown at her office bin.
“Who... who are you? What have you done to Madam Bones?”
“Don’t be absurd, slave. They couldn’t replace me, none may come through my office door without showing their true form.”
Harry grunted as she pulled him from the downed chair and sent him sprawling again across her floor. Amelia enjoyed the sight of his toned torso with its light patches of dark hair. He might be barely sixteen, but he was firmly post-pubescent. A young athlete with the stamina to endure every depravity she held in mind.
“And you will no longer refer to me as anything but Goddess! Now get those shoes and trousers off before I have to really hurt you.”
The office was large, but not massive. It was only a few steps to the door. Unaware of the soundproofing, Harry assumed he could either reach it and get out or bang and call for help. Ignoring Madam Bones’ command, he sprang to his feet and ran towards the door. The iron grip that seized his arm stopped him short. He turned, feeling guilty even though he was under attack, and aimed as hard a punch as he could into the cruelly twisted face of the middle-aged woman. He hadn’t considered that he wasn’t the first, nor even the hundredth to try and punch out the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, but he had some idea when she caught the fist in her palm and shoved him once again to the floor.
“If you won’t do as you’re told, I suppose I really have to do it for you.”
She dropped beside Harry, pushing him down with one hand as she tugged upon the button fly of his jeans. Yanking them down hard, along with his very-English white-cotton underpants, Amelia had her first sight of his young dick. Nestled in a bush thicker and darker than the downier hair of Harrys’ chest lay an organ of impressive size even in its flaccid state. Above average, if not monstrous, Harry’s endowment sealed his fate as Amelia’s enforced sex slave. Whatever tiny morsels of conscience remained were washed away in her powerful desire to impale herself upon Harry’s teenage cock.

Harry still had some fight in him. He kicked his shoes off and worked his jeans down, knowing that they would stop him running while half-down his thighs.. She didn’t seem to notice, reaching instead for his dick. He jumped, feeling her warm hand against his most private skin. It was clearly then, or never. He took advantage of Amelia’s distraction by his crotch to shove her restraining arm away and roll out of reach. He rose, moving to try and put the desk between him and her. She moved faster, cutting him off and lifting a pair of wrist cuffs from one of the packed shelves lining her office. It gave Harry the idea to reach for a weapon, only to stop at the thought that she might’ve booby trapped things he could grab. Without his glasses it was hard to tell quite what was around him anyway; he only had the general outline of the cuffs within the blurring.
“I won’t let you put those on me!”
“I keep telling you slave, I wouldn’t enjoy it if you did! And call me Goddess when you address me. You will learn, oh yes.”
Harry felt very vulnerable in his nakedness and inability to see properly. He crouched, keeping his eyes towards Madam Bones, and felt for his glasses. Finding them, he slipped them on quickly, and moved back with more confidence. He felt like he’d been in a fight with a boy his own age, not a middle-aged lingerie clad witch. She moved quickly, her decades of experience quickly telling as Harry tried to fight her back. She blocked his closed fisted blows and barefooted kicks, and responded with stinging slaps as she forced his hands into the cuffs, and then tripped him a final time to her office floor. His stomach felt great against her sopping quim as she sat on his stomach, gripping his sides between the feminine-toned muscles of her stocking-clad thighs.
Reaching behind her broad hips she took Harry’s pretty dick in her right hand and rubbed it firmly, pushing his foreskin up and down the large purple-pink crown. It stiffened almost immediately, boosted with the hormonal imperatives of the sixteen year old body. Were hers the first fingers to clasp that shaft, and bring it from soft lazy worm to thick, hot, rod? She dearly hoped his balls hadn’t been drained by too much teenage wanking; large, healthy and plum sized, she would have them snug against her body.
“Does that feel good, slave?”
Harry shook his head, eyes screwed shut behind his glasses and began pleading,
“Mada... Goddess, please,” he tried, hoping she would respond more kindly if he addressed her as she’d asked,” don’t do this to me! I’ve never done more than kissed a girl, I want my first time to be special! I Don’t want this at all!”
“Ha. Special. Well, it will certainly be unforgettable, slave.”
Harry opened his eyes as Amelia Bones shifted position. She left a small wet pool on his stomach as she lifted her middle-aged, but still in fantastic shape, butt up and back until she held his dick at her hairless entrance. He felt total disgust for himself that he was so thoroughly hard, and guilt for his physical betrayal of his true love. For all that her body was well looked after, she was still so comparatively old and she taking him by force... and he was hard as granite in her hand. He cried out incoherently, tears sliding from his eyes, as Madam Bones impaled herself upon him. She was so wet, so warm, so tight, and stretched redly around his thick, veiny length. She didn’t manage to get him all in on the first try, but moved herself up and down atop his writhing body until she had him buried deep inside.
“No, no, no, please stop Madam Bones.”
Leaning forward to ride to bound teenager, she held a hand over his mouth and hissed,
“I told you! I am your Goddess, you are my slave! Your body knows its place. Merlin’s beard, I can feel you so far inside me! You’re big!”
It wasn’t going to take either of them long to peak. Amelia was more aroused than she’d ever thought possible. Even though her clitoris only occasionally rubbed in the right place against Harry’s shaft she was going to climax hard. She adopted a fast, hard riding pace almost immediately, revelling in her physical dominance of the sixteen year old. So big! So hard! So deep inside on every downward slam of her arse!
Though he didn’t want to climax, didn’t want to give her that satisfaction or gain any of his own, Harry realised his body’s betrayal was soon to be complete. His balls felt tight, close to the edge he’d achieved in bath or bedroom, thinking of Cho, or Ginny. Madam Bones had never featured in those night fantasies, but it was her sweaty body pressing down hard and drawing him to a tainted paradise. The horror he felt about his rape made it difficult for him to try and imagine dull, non-sexual situations and stave off that final surrender, that little death of his self-respect. When his rapist stiffened, her blonde-grey hair whipping around her head, he thought for a second that he’d done it... and then she squeezed, spasmodically the full length of his shaft within her quim and raked her nails across his chest. With a final shouted denial, Harry Potter spurted deeply up into Amelia Bones.
“N-NO!”
The knowledge that Potter had peaked as she did intensified Amelia’s orgasm. Screaming like the mad woman she’d turned out to be, she came over and over atop the stiff-bodied snivelling school boy. She doubted she would ever again hit the heights she’d managed in this first, forceful, rape of Harry. Had she really avoided this pleasure all of her life, she wondered? Thrown it all away instead of taking this power, this raw animal passion that gushed over Harry, drenched his balls and pooled upon her office floor? She knew he’d climaxed, that his fertile teenage sperm had geyser’d inside her. Looking down into his shame-red face she felt an aftershock of orgasm tremor through her.
He’d come. He hoped his ‘first time’ was over; not a moment of love and lust with a true lover, but a moment of horror at the hands of a crazed old witch. Harry could barely see the triumphant expression on his panting rapist’s face through the tears that misted his eyes. She knew his body had taken pleasure from her assault, that it had felt good inside her. In his brief history of self-pleasure, Harry had never managed such an intense sensation as the one Madam Bones had drawn from him... the self-disgust was stomach churning. He rolled to his side, hugging himself and sobbing, as she lifted herself, shaky legged, from him. His cock lay flaccid and sticky, drooping downwards towards the office’s cool, wet, floor.
High on power, Madam Bones crossed to her desk, adjusting her lingerie absent-mindedly as she opened a drawer with a free hand. Inside lay a magically infused collar that could only be removed with any ease by the one who’d affixed it... so long as they lived. Having lain inside the evidence vault for years, it had an aged and worn look to the dark leather, but the small name tag reading ‘slave’ was as bright and shiny as it had been years before when she’d arrested its owner and released their victim. Crossing back to the shocked and tearful boy, Amelia affixed the collar snugly around his neck before he had time to fight further. She had to admit it excited her even more to see him collared and helpless, with his arms still cuffed at the wrists.
Harry reached for his neck, too late, and felt the collar around his throat. He’d climaxed like an animal, so perhaps it was fitting he was being treated like one. Blinking the tears from his eyes, he focused through his cracked glasses to see Madam Bones masturbating the sticky mess of her pussy with hard probing fingers; globs of his sperm dribbed down, smearing her stockings and splashing against the heels of her leather boots. She was too old to have been impregnated by him, surely? Drawing in a deep breath, he became aware that the office stank of sex, even over the exotic smells that permeated the shelves and cabinets.
“I won’t... I won’t tell anyone, please let me go...”
Harry’s voice cracked. He could see that his plea had fallen on deaf ears. It seemed to tip Madam Bones over the edge as she stiffened, dropping to her knees and crying out harshly. Her wetness splashed against his face, and hair, the strong odour of her arousal almost overpowering. It was a chance to escape! He sat quickly, off balanced by the cuffs on his wrist, and jumped to his bare feet. Heart pounding like a war drum, he surged towards freedom. His elation was short lived as a hot damp hand closed on his ankle and tugged him roughly from his feet.
“Let me go! Let go! No! Get off me you mad cow!”
Madam Bones forced herself to her feet, and dragged Harry by one leg towards one of the bookcases in against the far wall of her office. Even through her orgasm she’d been aware entirely of Harry’s position and movements; the skill and ability that had seen her survive through many years in Magical Law Enforcement.
“You will learn your place, slave. You will worship me as your Goddess, or I will smite you.”
The bookcase swung out to reveal a door, and the door opened into the private cell. Nobody had ever escaped from it, though some had achieved freedom afterwards. There was a simple bed, wash basin, toilet and hooks for various chains and shackles as needed. Scratched graffiti marred the whitewashed walls. Madam Bones released her grip on Harry’s ankle, and pulled the struggling teenager up by his cuffed wrists. Shoving him forcefully onto the bed, she chained his cuffed hands up above his head. He kicked wildly, but found the blows deflected and blocked by the middle aged witch. His spirit clearly amused her. She attached shackles to his ankles, spreading his legs just-on-the-edge of uncomfortably wide, and then stood back to admire her work.
“For tonight, I will leave you like this. If you learn to behave with respect and service me sufficiently well, I will permit you further degrees of movement, slave. Do you understand? Remember that your life is in my hands and say, yes Goddess.”
Harry bit back the angry reply. He was in no position to shout abuse, not with his genitals so well placed for a booted kick. He couldn’t keep the anger from his eyes as he looked up at the woman who’d so ruthlessly violated him. Someone would rescue him. The Order would find he’d been brought to the ministry and investigate. He would have to resist as much as possible for his own pride, and escape if he could, but earning further assaults would do him no good. He realised he had come through the worst of his shock quickly, but the self-disgust might remain for life. Deep inside, he blamed himself for the sadistic assault.
“Yes, Goddess.”
Madam Bones smirked, and turning on her heels, withdrew from the cell. Harry watched the door close. He had an itch on the end of his nose.

End of Part 1

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The Slave of Bones