Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bella's Harem	By : Mamacita Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 28885 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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
- 12
- 13
- 14
Warning: This chapter contains sexual scenes between a F/M/M threesome that include SLASH. If you don’t like reading SLASH, you know where your “Back” button is—please exit now!

AN: Thanks to Selector for the Flaming Penis expletive!
13: The Witch Queen Meets the Dynamic Duo

The rest of the afternoon went almost as quickly as the morning had. All during dinner Marshall was very quiet; he sat at the opposite end of the table from Draco and on the same side, where he was least likely to be able to see the object of his lus—er, affections. Harry ended up next to Draco, and Ron sat across the table and glowered at the two of them all through dinner. At first Fred tried to joke his brother out of the sullens but eventually he gave it up as a bad job.

The hidden currents of tension that swirled between the various groupings—Arthur and Marshall, Harry and Draco, Ron and Draco with Harry getting in the middle, and Marshall and Draco—made the meal a rather surreal experience for some of them. No one was sorry when it was over and time to get on with the evening’s activities.

Marshall observed his ban from the personal-services rotation with bad grace and went off by himself to read by the bookshelves. That left Arthur to conduct storytime (which was becoming quite popular, as well as fulfilling its original function of focusing the boys’ attention somewhere other than on the slave receiving the enema and bath) while Edwin and Alfred ushered Harry and Draco behind the curtains of the two little rooms for their enemas.

Harry remembered Marshall’s odd behavior when he had administered the enema and was a little on edge as he wondered if this time would be the same. However, Edwin seemed wrapped up in his own thoughts and hummed unconcernedly as he pottered about with the ingredients on the counter and routinely inserted the nozzle into Harry and let the water flow. The only thing he said was, “All right, Harry?” about halfway through. Harry nodded and didn’t say anything, and Edwin went back to his tuneless humming until it was time to remove the nozzle, which he did efficiently and matter-of-factly. Then, “All right, my boy, up you get. Careful, Harry—right, off you go now!” and Harry was off and running to the loo.

Draco drew Alfred in the enema lottery that night. Alfred was quick but thorough, his hands gentle but impersonal, performing the invasive task as quickly as possible so Draco could have it over with.

The clanking of the bucket as he mixed the salt into the water could be faintly heard in the farthest corner of the main room, where Marshall sat trying to convince himself he was reading his book, when really he was listening eagerly for any sound Draco might make. But there was only the occasional low murmur, and it was impossible to tell which of the four people in the curtained-off rooms were speaking.

When the first set of curtain rings clattered open Marshall’s head whipped around to look, but it was only Harry, whose enema had finished first, and Marshall relaxed back onto his cushion. A couple of minutes later the other curtain was pulled aside and Draco strolled into the loo, his tightly clenched ass cheeks the only sign of urgency he showed. There followed a few minutes of embarrassingly loud groans from the loos and much flushing of toilets. As much as Arthur tried to keep the others’ concentration on the story, there were a few scattered snickers and giggles—it really was irresistible—and Arthur found himself wondering whether Harry and Draco between them were making at least some of the noise on purpose to get this very reaction. A chorus of cheers and applause and whistles greeted Harry and Draco when they finally emerged, red-faced but laughing good-naturedly, and headed for the pool.

Good boy, Harry, Arthur thought, pleased that Harry had found a way to make the process less embarrassing for Draco’s first time; rather than looking mortified, Draco seemed to be taking the laughter and joking in good part, which Arthur hadn’t expected.

Edwin and Alfred chatted with the boys and each other as they bathed the two slaves and bundled them into towels to dry off. Alfred took a towel also, as he had quite soaked the front of his garment during the bathing process. “Well, now, there was no word as to what the two of you should wear this evening, so I suppose it’s up to me to decide,” he said. “Finish here, will you, and come on back to the wardrobe so we can get you kitted out. Lucius will be here in about twenty minutes, so we have a bit of time.”

He strode off to have a preliminary look through the wardrobe, now down by two costumes since the one Harry had worn the first night had not so far been returned, and of course the costume Stuart had worn when he died had quite probably been buried with him in it; they had no way of knowing. Still, the wardrobe was tightly packed with clothing, so even if Bella depleted it of a different costume every night, it should last for a while.

In a minute or so Draco came in, closely followed by Harry. Alfred eyed Draco’s hair and eyes and whisked through hangers until he came to a pale-blue bit of silk. He pulled it off the hanger and found that it was a very abbreviated skirt-type affair with a wide waistband that was studded with silvery sequins. He chuckled and held it up against Draco. “That’ll do for you, my boy,” he said, and he handed it to Draco along with the sandals that went with it and then turned back to the rack to find something for Harry.

Draco held up the garment and his mouth dropped open. “But it’s a dress!” he protested. Harry snickered. “Yeah, and it’s so short your ass will show if you so much as breathe,” he pointed out. He picked up the sandals. “What are these? Oh—like Roman sandals or something.” The plain leather soles had long blue ribbons attached that matched the skirt and were clearly meant to cris-cross up the wearer’s shin and tie at the knee. Draco’s brows drew together. “I can’t go out there in this,” he protested. “I’ll be the laughingstock of the whole castle.”

Harry shook his head. “No, you won’t. It will be fine. Go on, put it on.” Draco hesitated a moment, looking at Harry as if assessing his sincerity, but Harry gave him a little nod so, still grumbling under his breath, Draco dropped his towel and stepped into the skirt, then stood there looking sulky. The thing was obviously meant to be revealing. If he stood perfectly still and there was no breeze, it was faintly possible that nothing would show. However, if he moved at all, his assets would be revealed in all their glory to anyone who happened to be looking.

“Oh, cheer up,” Harry said. “Look—put the sandals on and you’ve got a Roman centurion kind of thing going.” He smirked. “It’s not that bad, really. You should have seen what she made me wear the first time. At least you don’t have to wear a harness that makes everything point up and stick out for the world to see.”

“Still, this is pretty bad, you have to admit, Harry. I look like a girl—and one who was too poor to buy the whole dress, at that,” Draco groused as he finished lacing the sandal ribbons up his legs. Harry had to admit Draco did look more like a fairy princess minus the wings than a Roman centurion, but he didn’t say so. Suddenly he noticed something peculiar.

“What’s this? There’s a gap in the skirt,” he said, pointing.

Draco twisted round and tried to see. “What? Where?”

Alfred emerged with Harry’s outfit just in time to see Harry run his hand down the cleft of Draco’s ass. “Right here,” Harry said.

“Now, come on. None of that,” Alfred protested.

“But there’s a gap in the back,” Harry said innocently. Draco’s eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open a little; he seemed a bit short of breath.

Alfred turned Draco around so he could look, and when he saw the gap he rolled his eyes. “Good gad, she doesn’t miss a trick, does she?” he murmured. “Hang on.” He pulled and tugged until the gap was in the front, falling neatly to each side of Draco’s cock, which had responded instantly to the feel of Harry’s hand on his ass and jutted out proudly between the sections of light blue fabric. “There! Oh...oh dear.” He looked at Draco’s eager cock and shook his head. “Boys, you know the rules. Hands to yourselves. Harry, here’s yours.” He glanced down at Harry’s equally ready member and sighed. “Oh, honestly...well, at least there’s no question about where you should put that.” He nodded his head at the erection Harry sported.

Harry took the seafoam-green fabric and shook it out. “What is it?” There was some sheer-looking fabric that turned out to be a short-sleeved top out of mesh, virtually see-through, and—

“Aw, another harness?” Harry groaned. “Geez, Alfred. Isn’t there something else?”

Alfred gestured at the racks of clothing. “If you can find something in there that doesn’t have a gap, a harness, a hole, a ring, or something else to put you on display, be my guest,” he said reasonably. “However, you can’t stay here trying on clothes all night—and we already know she likes you in green. So why don’t you just put it on and be done with it?”

Harry started to put the shirt on, but Alfred said, “I’m pretty sure that goes on last.” Harry picked up the harness and sighed. It was rather a tangle but he finally got it straightened out and winced. “Oh, man!” he said. “This is just so—” And it really was. This time, instead of a sling to hold him out on display, there was a sort of sheath for his cock, made of some stretchy stuff the same color as the seafoam mesh. Harry gingerly maneuvered his cock into the opening, ignoring Draco’s snicker, and then he stopped.

“This is no good,” he said. “It doesn’t even fit—that just looks stupid!” It was true; it looked like a condom that was too large, because while he’d been worrying about looking stupid his erection had decided to go off and sulk in private for a bit.

“Well, don’t worry about it,” Alfred said. “Let’s just get you into the rest of this. Ah...this time there’s nothing up your arse, anyway. Good news, eh? This goes round your neck.” He adjusted the buckle at the back of Harry’s neck to take up the slack. “Now for the shirt.” On it went, but Harry still gazed unhappily at the rather silly-looking sheath.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Alfred muttered. “If you’re so worried about it, why don’t you just do something about it yourself? You’ve got a few minutes.” Draco and Harry looked at him, and he clarified, “Harry, you do something about it. There’s no one back here to see but you two. I’m—er—going to go see what time it is. Wait here—and behave yourselves,” he said as he left.

Draco turned to Harry. “We only have a few seconds,” he said. He grabbed Harry’s face and brought it to his, at the same time reaching down to cup Harry’s cock in his hand. He tugged and rubbed at it, mimicking the actions of his hand with his tongue in Harry’s mouth until both their hearts were pounding. Draco pulled away first and noted with satisfaction Harry’s dilated pupils. He gave Harry’s cock one more caress and it leaped in his hand. They both looked down and Draco smiled.

“There you are, Harry,” he said. “All ready.” He swallowed hard, and then they heard Alfred returning, and making a fair amount of noise about it, too. When he came back into the wardrobe Harry was adjusting his cock in the sling and Draco was running a comb through his damp hair.

Alfred glanced at Harry’s cock and then at their flushed faces. “Ah...ready to go, boys?” he said, his eyes twinkling, and he led the way out to the reception room.

Lucius was waiting for them. He looked askance at Draco’s costume and stared at Harry’s somewhat longer, his eyes traveling reluctantly up from the cock sling to the straps that hugged his chest outside his nipples and the tight green mesh that enclosed his chest, the lower edge fluttering against the top of his ass in back and the edge of his pubic hair in front.

Alfred cleared his throat and Lucius raised startled eyes to his face. “Eh?—Oh, right. Well, let’s hope tonight goes well...for a change,” he said. “Hopefully we won’t be back until the wee hours.” He gave a little salute and then took off, expecting that Draco and Harry would follow.

Alfred watched them go, chuckling at the sight of Draco’s ass cheeks bobbing under the ridiculous blue skirt as he walked. Then he sobered. He certainly hoped this night would go better than the last two had. It was unfortunate that Bella had chosen her own nephew to attend her—but then she hadn’t asked him, had she?

He went back into the wardrobe to tidy up. He’d looked through most of the costumes at the outset, so he had a good idea of what there was, and other than some variation of fabrics and a veritable rainbow of colors there really were only a few different styles, every one of them engineered to put the wearer’s cock on display. The Queen wasn’t very imaginative, he mused...but she obviously knew what she liked.
When they reached the elevator, Harry stepped in with the confidence of a veteran. Draco followed, but he sort of wondered why the three of them were piling into a broom closet. When the floor started to rise he was completely taken by surprise.

According to the usual routine, Lucius bade them mount the stairs to the middle level and then he rang the gong to let Bella know they had arrived. As he brushed past Draco to leave, he whispered a soft “Good luck, son.” Draco turned around and watched as the elevator descended noiselessly, his eyes fixed firmly upon his father’s for the few seconds Lucius was still visible.

Then he turned to see Bella coming into view just above. She wore a sort of lounging robe of dark green velvet that was tied at the waist. Her hair was loose and tumbled in a tousled cloud about her face, and her feet were bare. She looked as if she’d just got out of bed.

Harry was quite conscious of the fact that here stood the maniac who had tortured one of his fellow slaves to death, for what reason they would never know as Stuart had not recovered enough to speak before he died. Harry knew she was capable of great evil and that she could not be trusted in any way. He knew that. He did.

But at the same time, his seventeen-year-old libido was remembering what his own experience with her had been like—indeed, it had been hard to think of anything else since that night, despite its bizarre ending—and the sight of her thus attired and ready for them, the thought of having her again and this time sharing her with Draco...and maybe having Draco too, as his experience earlier in the day had been more enjoyable than he’d anticipated...was more than enough to override any caution his normal instincts might have urged.

Apparently Bella was playing the seductress to the hilt tonight. She smiled lazily down at them. “Why don’t you come up, boys?” she said invitingly. “Harry, you know the way.” Harry walked up the curving metal staircase with Draco close behind him, and Bella met them at the top.

“Harry.” She kissed him lightly and passed a cool palm across his chest as she moved to greet Draco. “Nephew.” She surveyed his outfit. “My, my, my.” She hooked one finger in the waistband of the skirt, which was several inches above his cock—causing it to rise to the occasion and make an appearance through the front gap. She ran one finger up the underside of his cock almost teasingly. “I can see you take after your father.” She grasped him firmly and squeezed...harder, then harder still...as if she was testing his powers of endurance. Draco’s face turned red and little beads of sweat popped out along his upper lip as he resisted the urge to cry out. “Mm, yes, a definite family resemblance,” she murmured as she watched his face. “Lucius always does that when I squeeze him inside me.” Draco’s eyes widened at her words flaunting her past intimacy with his father. It was something he’d really rather not have been reminded of just then.

Suddenly she let him go and in one of her lightning-quick mood changes she said harshly, “He would take you himself if I told him to, you know.” Draco gaped; there was nothing he could possibly say to this. He could feel his erection subsiding at the mental images her words were creating. “And so would your mother,” she added.

Well, that was enough to finish off his erection. The thought of having sex with his father was bad enough, but with his mother—did any guy want to think about that? He shuddered. That was just...wrong.

Of course, sex with his mother’s sister wasn’t much better, was it?

Bella glanced down and smirked. She had, of course, expected her words to have this effect on him. Oh, this was going to be fun. Inflate him—deflate him! Puff him up—prick holes in him! And speaking of pricks...she looked over at Harry and saw that his erection had not suffered noticeably from the thought of closer than usual relations among Draco’s family. She wondered if that was because, as Stuart had said, Harry detested Draco, or possibly all of the Malfoys. It was odd, though; she didn’t get a sense that there was any particular discord between the boys. Well, if there was she would know it soon enough.

“Well, come along,” she said. “I’m dying to get started.” She led the way back to her giant bed. “Tonight I feel like being entertained.” She knelt on the bed and crawled over to the middle of it and reclined against a bank of cushions. “I want to watch the two of you go at it for a while; I’ll let you know when to stop.”

Harry and Draco stood next to the bed and looked at each other, both of their expressions clearly saying, What now?

“You might start by undressing each other,” Bella prompted. “And I like to hear a lot of noise, mind. No lying there in stoic silence. That bores me. And I don’t like to be bored,” she warned them.

Harry and Draco were both immediately determined not to bore the Queen.

Draco took a deep breath and reached for the bottom of Harry’s shirt. He slid his hand up under it and brushed Harry’s abdomen lightly, making the muscles quiver. He pulled the top up and over Harry’s head and cooperatively raised arms. Then he unbuckled the strap from behind Harry’s neck and tugged at the stretchy fabric of the cock sheath to free it from Harry’s cock, which filled it almost to the point of being painfully tight.

Then Harry pulled on the waistband of Draco’s “centurion” skirt and it floated to the floor. Harry knelt to untie the sandals and remove them. As he put down the second one he was at eye-level with Draco’s cock, so, figuring one or other of them would have to start eventually, he reached up and took hold of it, kneeling up a bit to bring it to his mouth.

But Bella couldn’t see well enough. “Up here,” she said imperiously, beckoning them to get up on the bed. They did, and she nodded and waved her hand at them. “Continue,” she said. “And make it good.”

Harry urged Draco onto his back, as he’d done earlier that day, and took his place between Draco’s spread legs. He was starting to reach for Draco’s cock when Bella said suddenly, “It’s awfully quiet in here....”

Draco glanced at her, then looked at Harry. “Go on, Harry,” he said. “T-take me in your mouth and s-suck me.”

Bella rolled her eyes. “Oh, really—if you can’t do better than that—” She lifted her wand in silent warning.

So Draco, who was used to furtive, hurried sex where it was usually necessary, above all, to be quiet so as to avoid detection—by the Prefects, the teachers, or, of late, his parents or his partners’ parents—did his best to keep up a running commentary while Harry nibbled and licked and sucked his grateful cock. Not only was it hard to talk when he felt more like groaning, but he felt rather silly and stilted, unsure of what to say.

But Bella lay there tapping her wand against her palm, so Draco got used to the idea rather quickly. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to come with Bella right there scrutinizing him, but he didn’t want her to think Harry wasn’t doing well so he gave himself up to thoughts of Harry, and Harry’s mouth, and how amazing it felt on his cock.

“Gods, Harry,” he murmured. “I love it when you do that.” Harry was flicking his tongue up and down the length of Draco’s cock. He tongued Draco’s balls and Draco said, “Suck them, Harry—please, suck my balls. Oh Merlin, that’s it...so good. Take me in your mouth.”

Harry obligingly put his lips round the rosy glans and slid all the way down Draco’s cock. He swallowed, as he’d done earlier that afternoon, to massage the head of it where it was lodged partway down his throat, and Draco cried out and began to pump his hips, fast and strong. His hands came up to grasp Harry’s head, and even before he spoke it was obvious that he was on the verge of coming.

“Harry—Harry—I’m going to—I can’t—” he panted. He half-moaned, half-sobbed in time with Harry’s increasingly rapid strokes. “Oh—oh gods, please—aahhhh!” he roared. It was almost as if the freedom to make as much noise as he wanted to had increased the strength of his orgasm.

Bella watched, her mouth open as she took little panting breaths. When Draco came she could see Harry’s cheeks bulging with semen that filled his mouth almost faster than he could swallow it. But swallow it he did, and he held Draco’s softening cock gently in his mouth until it stopped pulsing before he let it go.

“Well! That was a bit quick, wasn’t it?” Bella commented. “And,” she complained, “there wasn’t nearly enough talking. Draco, it’s your turn. Do better.”

Draco, barely recovered as yet, slowly rose to his hands and knees, and Harry lay back among the cushions. As Draco moved closer, Bella asked, “What are you doing?” When Draco indicated that he was going to reciprocate in like manner, Bella shook her head. “No, no-no-no. I’ve already seen that. Use your imagination. Morgana!” She waited for a brief moment while Draco thought, then put her oar in again. “Penetration—that’s what I want to see. But go slowly. I don’t want all the fun to be over with right away. After all, we’re just getting warmed up.”

From somewhere among the cushions—for all Harry knew she might have them secreted all over the bed—she drew a cock-ring and beckoned to Harry. He groaned inwardly; after watching Draco come, he’d been anticipating his turn being next. Reluctantly he crawled over to her, his cock bobbing, and let her snap the cock-ring on.

“That’s more like it,” she said. “Now—to work, Draco. I want you to get his ass all nice and juicy—get your face right in there—and then use your fist on him.” She made a satisfied noise. “It’s been a while since I got to watch anyone do that. And with Harry’s tan against your pale skin—oh yes, this ought to be lovely.” She wriggled contentedly back into her cushions.

Draco’s mind was whirling. He’d never actually licked anyone’s ass—let alone Harry’s—and what was that about his fist? His fist? Did people really do that? He wasn’t even sure he could get his fist into Harry’s ass.

He’d been kind of excited for a minute there when Bella had mentioned penetration, imagining himself plunging wildly in and out of Harry’s ass while Harry whimpered and begged for more. Draco quite liked that idea. But his fist—that was weird, and not all that exciting, in his book. He sighed.

“What’s that you say, Draco?” Bella asked. “A little louder, if you please.”

Draco said to Harry, “Okay—um—turn round, and...I guess you should be on your hands and knees, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry said, and he knelt facing away from Draco, his ass in the air and his chest on the bed, resting the side of his face on a cushion. “This okay?”

“Perfect,” Draco breathed. He reached out and grabbed a handful of ass cheek in each hand, rubbing and kneading. “Gods, Harry, you’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft...and so warm.”

He parted Harry’s ass cheeks and just looked for a minute, then slowly dragged a finger up and down the cleft, making little teasing forays into the puckered hole as he imagined licking it. Putting a finger in...two fingers...even three—okay. But a fist, in that tiny hole? It hardly seemed possible. Certainly he had never tried it before.

Bella cleared her throat loudly, and Harry said, “Go ahead, Draco, lick it. I want to feel your tongue on me. Please, Draco.”

So, holding Harry’s cheeks apart gently, Draco bent and tickled the little hole with his tongue. To his surprise it wasn’t at all nasty. It smelled like concentrated essence of Harry, but that was by no means a bad thing. He flicked his tongue up the inside of one cheek and down the other.

“Oh—oh, Draco—oh gods,” Harry moaned. He sounded like he was sobbing, but his ass was swaying from side to side so Draco rather thought he was enjoying it.

A quick glance at Bella showed that one hand had disappeared inside her robe and was feverishly rubbing her clit. Draco could smell her sex and he was afraid that between the sounds Harry was making, the incredible feeling of his tongue on Harry’s anus, and the sight and scent of Bella pleasuring herself, he might come again right then and there.

He really went at it then, licking in broad strokes up Harry’s crack, over and over. Finally he pulled Harry’s cheeks even further apart right at his anus and wormed his tongue inside as far as it would go. Harry squealed hoarsely and tried to buck, but Draco held him steady as he wiggled his tongue back and forth. Harry was sobbing in earnest now, needing to come, but the cock-ring held him in check. His cock was a deep purple-red.

Draco frantically coated one finger with saliva and worked it into Harry’s anus, and Harry pushed against him. “More,” he choked. So Draco added another finger, then a third, rotating his hand in between each addition as he stretched the tiny hole as much as he could. Harry was now pumping his hips rhythmically, and Bella’s hand was a blur between her legs as she avidly watched.

“Draco—it’s okay, just go for it,” Harry cried. “I need more!” He was grunting heavily with each pump now, and if it hadn’t been for the cock-ring Draco was sure he would have come by now.

Draco rolled his fingers together as compactly as he could and gently began to push his hand into Harry. He spat into the crack of Harry’s ass, wishing he knew a lubricating spell. But there—to his amazement his hand was actually sliding gradually into Harry, and before long it was in up to the wrist. He pulled out just a little and pushed back in, feeling the strange, spongy inside of Harry’s rectum against his fingers.

Suddenly Harry stiffened and Draco froze. “Are you okay?” he whispered, afraid that he’d hurt Harry somehow.

Harry nodded. “Yes—move your fingers again—oh yes, yes, right there—again, Draco!”

Draco rubbed the sweet spot he’d found, over and over. Harry alternately sobbed and let out hoarse cries and finally he reached down and, before Bella realized what he was doing, unsnapped the cock-ring. He gave a hoarse yell and spewed a seemingly endless stream of semen onto the bed beneath him. Even after the storm had abated somewhat, his body jerked involuntarily several times when Draco’s hand moved inside him.

Finally Harry collapsed, and Draco gingerly retrieved his hand. Harry gave a long, tired groan as the ring of his anus tugged against Draco’s skin, the additional sensation almost more than he could stand.

Bella looked at the two of them with narrowed eyes. “All right there, Harry?” she asked sweetly, her tone not resembling her expression in the slightest. “I do hope you enjoyed that; perhaps you can look back on it fondly when you find yourself being punished for that little bit of disobedience later this evening.” Harry could hardly lift his head to look at her, but Draco was sufficiently alarmed for both of them. Obviously Bella wasn’t going to let Harry get away with his disobedience in removing the cock-ring before she gave him permission, but he didn’t know what she was going to do...or when.

“Now, I’ve been noticing something with the two of you. It seems to me,” Bella said, “that either Stuart was lying when he told me the two of you hated each other, or—” she looked at them appraisingly— “you’ve come to be very good friends rather quickly.” She watched as Harry paled.

“Tell you what. Let’s try a little experiment, shall we? My, you did come a lot just now, didn’t you, you naughty boy? Really, one wonders what the word ‘slave’ is generally understood to mean, doesn’t one, if it doesn’t mean obeying the one who has power over you? It’s rather a shame you came so hard, poor Harry. One wonders if you can possibly have anything left! For your sake—I do hope so.”

She walked over past Dumbledore’s desk to an apparatus that looked like a cross between a vaulting horse and a set of parallel bars, only much lower, and beckoned to them. “Come here. Harry, I want you to bend over this bench here—come along. Now, bend right over.” She arranged him over the padded part that was a bit lower than waist height, and had him hold onto the lower bar, which was just a few inches above floor level, so he wouldn’t fall. “There, that’s right. Now, do you know what I’m going to do?”

“N-no,” Harry said. He didn’t know what it would be, he just knew he wasn’t going to like it.

“Why, I’m going to paddle you. You’ve been paddled before, haven’t you, Harry?” As she spoke, she ran her hands almost lovingly over his ass cheeks, which, in his present position, pointed skyward.

Harry mumbled something Draco couldn’t quite hear, but apparently Bella did. “Yes, just so. I’m sure your uncle saw you were badly in need of some discipline. Unfortunately, it appears that’s still true.” She walked around the vault to a rack Draco had only just noticed; Harry couldn’t see it very well from his awkward head-down position. The rack was studded with brass hooks, upon which hung items the use for which Draco could only imagine.

Bella lifted a shiny black wooden paddle from its hook and brought it over, holding it out for Draco to see. “Ebony,” she said. “Isn’t it beautiful? One of the few things my husband gave me that I actually wanted. Now, Harry, here’s how this works. I shall paddle you for a while—well, until my arm gets tired, I suppose—” she gave a hoot of laughter— “and then Draco will have precisely one minute in which to make you come. If you can’t manage it, your little friend here—” she pointed at Draco— “will undergo a touch of the Cruciatus.”

Harry blanched. After Draco’s fisting he had serious doubts as to whether he’d be able to come in the next week, let alone a mere minute. And for Draco to suffer for his “disobedience”—

“That’s not fair!” Harry protested.

“No?” Bella said, as if she was considering it. She went back to kneading Harry’s buttocks, now and then stopping to casually insert a finger into his anus, for no purpose he could think of. “But then, lots of things in life aren’t fair, Harry. Is it fair that my father married me off to a self-important idiot who cared nothing for me as long as I brought him a nice, fat dowry? Is it fair that the idiot then proceeded to force me to accept this—” she brandished her Dark Mark at them— “or else be thrown to the Death Eaters at one of their Dark Revels? Is it fair that he allowed Voldemort to make me the means of delivery of a very special kind of death he meted out to Death Eaters who offended him? Do you know what he did, Harry? He put poison inside of me, Harry—rank poison—and gave me to the one who was being punished to use as a fuck-toy for the night. They died, Harry, every one of them—while they were still hard inside of me! Can you imagine what that’s like? Can you? Do you think that was fair?”

Harry thought it seemed rather unfair that Bella herself hadn’t died from the poison, but he didn’t say so.

She stopped, visibly trying to regain control of her emotions. “Well,” she said after a bit, “it wasn’t fair. None of it was. And maybe this isn’t fair, either. But you are my slave, and you will do as I say without disobeying me or you will suffer the consequences.” Her eyes cut to Draco. “Or someone will, at any rate. So—here we go. You can cry if you like, Harry. You can beg...but it won’t make any difference.”

She drew the paddle back, underhand, and brought it up beneath Harry’s buttocks, striking under his right cheek. He jumped but said nothing. She repeated the underhand strike on his left cheek. His cheeks bobbled like firm jelly as she spanked him, first coming at him from one side, then the other; now and then she varied it a bit and repeated a side, making her rhythm uneven and her approach different so he never knew what to expect.

After the fourth strike Harry grunted, and a couple of strikes later he inadvertently let out a cry. Bella ignored him and kept spanking, the sound of the paddle ringing off the stone walls in startling counterpoint to Harry’s hoarse cries and sobs.

Draco imagined himself yanking the paddle out of Bella’s hand and bashing her over the head with it repeatedly until she lost consciousness; he kept his hands rigidly at his sides, lest they get any ideas of their own. He wanted to cry out, “Just give me the Cruciatus now—why put Harry through all this?” but Bella was a wild woman, her hair flying, her robe slipping off one shoulder so she finally had to pause long enough to throw it aside; then she resumed paddling, her breasts swaying and jumping with every stroke.

And suddenly a funny thing happened. From the moment of Harry’s first cry, Draco found he was rock-hard again. He’d been grateful he wasn’t the one who had to try to come after a paddling, because he truly hadn’t thought he could; now he wished he could step in and take Harry’s place, relieve him of some of his misery. He doubted Harry would be able to sit down comfortably for a week, let alone be in any kind of mood to come after his spanking.

Finally Bella blew her hair out of her eyes and dropped the paddle. She stood there, her chest heaving, and stared at her handiwork. Harry’s ass cheeks were a flaming red; Draco could almost feel the heat radiating off them from where he stood a few feet away. Bella grabbed a handful of ass cheek in each hand and squeezed, and Harry screamed in agony. “Good,” she said in a satisfied tone.

She pointed at Draco. “You have exactly one minute to make him come.” She went back to the rack and picked up a tiny hourglass, which she flipped over and rehung. “One minute.”

Draco said quickly, “Just stay where you are, Harry.” He knelt and squirmed around to get under Harry, narrowly missing knocking his head on the vault. He took Harry’s cock in his mouth and started to put his hands on Harry’s cheeks to hold onto him but fortunately remembered at the last minute and gripped Harry’s thighs instead. He gave it everything he had, not so much because he was afraid of the Cruciatus as because he was afraid Bella might change her mind and punish both of them if he failed, and he wasn’t sure Harry could take it.

A minute can seem endless...or it can pass in the blink of an eye. To Draco it seemed a mere flicker. Suddenly Bella was singing, “Time’s up!” and he hadn’t even been able to get Harry erect yet, let alone make him come. Slowly he released Harry’s cock and ran his hands down Harry’s legs in a gentle caress. There was a long, whistling breath from behind him, where Harry’s head hung upside down. Draco awkwardly crawled out from under the vault and stood up.

“Up, slave!” Bella commanded to Harry, and he grimaced in pain as he stiffly righted himself, his face streaked with tears. Bella surveyed him as if he was a particularly repellent kind of vermin. “See what happens when you don’t cooperate?” she said, and she leveled her wand at Draco.

“Don’t listen to her, Harry. It’s not y—”

“Crucio!” Bella screamed, furious at his insolence. Draco dropped immediately and curled into a tight ball, rolling back and forth and making an odd, strangled noise deep in his throat as Harry looked on in horror.

Bella ended the curse abruptly a few seconds later, although whether it was because some part of her was still capable of being daunted at the thought of having to deal with Lucius and Narcissa if she killed their son or merely because she’d already expended most of her energy paddling Harry was uncertain.

“To the bed,” she said, and Harry helped Draco up from the floor. Together they tottered like a couple of arthritic little old men over to Bella’s cushioned playground and carefully crawled onto the coverlet. Draco wondered how much more of this Harry could stand; he definitely looked like he needed some salve or ice or something on those cheeks, possibly a potion for pain, and a long sleep.

Bella looked at Harry and made a careless gesture with her hand. “You—just stay out of my way,” she said. “Come here, Draco. I require satisfaction. Let’s see if you can give a performance to equal your father’s.” She got on her hands and knees and turned around, then looked back at him over her shoulder, her eyes glittering. “Take me, nephew—take me hard. Give me everything you’ve got left.”

She turned around and Draco reluctantly assumed his place behind her. He looked down at his flaccid cock and sighed. He was tired and just wanted to rest, and he wasn’t at all sure he could get it up for this demanding, capricious, seemingly tireless woman...who kept bringing up their familial relationship and mentioning Draco’s father as if she was deliberately trying to make it impossible for him to maintain an erection.

Harry tapped on Draco’s leg and, grinning, made a motion with his hand, and after a mystified moment Draco suddenly grinned back and nodded. He reached down and inserted a finger into Bella’s dripping pussy. Two, then three fingers slid in easily; he rubbed her clit briefly, then curled all four fingers as he had with Harry and carefully forced them into her slick opening. Despite Bella’s instructions to take her hard, he was afraid of hurting her; her pussy certainly stretched more easily than Harry’s anus had, but his hand was so much bigger than either.

Bella groaned and pushed back against his hand. “Harder,” she grunted, and Draco glanced at Harry, who shrugged.

Okay, Draco thought, you asked for it. He curled his fingers into a fist and pushed. Bella cried out and pushed back harder. Her slick channel closed around his hand and wrist like a vise, but she was so wet he could move easily back and forth. Bella set up a rhythm, pushing back as he pushed in, pulling away when he did, and soon they gained speed and she became more vocal.

“Gods! Yes!” she cried. She panted a litany of “Fuck me fuck me fuck me, yes, harder—harder, damn you!” Draco ran his left hand over the curve of her ass and reached down for a moment to pinch her slippery clit. Bella let out a high, quavering cry and shook violently, clamping down on Draco’s arm so hard he thought she might cut off his circulation. He made a couple more brief, teasing passes over her clit and she thrashed and bucked wildly. Finally she gasped, “No! No more!” As she lay there panting in exhaustion, Draco jerked his hand free in one swift, brutal motion. Bella’s entire body jolted and she screamed; after a moment she recovered enough to roll over and glare balefully at him out of one eye.

Draco slumped down to lie on his side facing Bella and Harry, hoping that maybe now she’d let them rest a bit.

“Well,” Bella said finally, “it wasn’t quite on a par with Lucius, but then few could ever hope to match him. I suppose I have to give you points for creativity—that, or be more specific about what I want next time.” She eyed his limp cock and gave a disdainful sniff. “Really, I think we’ll have to have cock-rings all round next time if you can’t do better than that.”

She yawned and said, “I’m going to sleep now. Do be quiet when you leave—and tell Lucius I want to see him first thing in the morning.” She rolled back onto her stomach—and almost immediately started to snore. Not delicate, ladylike snores, either, but rattling, full-throated ones that made Draco’s mouth dry out just listening to them.

Draco and Harry edged their way off the bed as carefully as they could so as not to wake her and went back down the metal staircase and the mezzanine stairs to the anteroom. There was no sign of Lucius, but the empty elevator beckoned.

“Do you think we should just...leave?” Harry wondered.

“I guess so,” Draco said. “I don’t know what else to do. Let’s get in and see what happens.” Harry followed him into the elevator and it began to descend at a breathless pace, taking them to the main floor in moments. As the elevator slowed and the doorway to the first floor came into view, they saw Lucius standing there waiting for them.

“How did you know to come?” Draco asked.

“Bella called me,” Lucius said. At Draco’s puzzled look, he tapped his forearm, where the Dark Mark was. “Whenever she summons me,” he said, “my standing instructions are to go to her side, regardless of what the other Death Eaters are doing.” He looked at them more closely. “So, still in one piece, eh? Maybe having the two of you go together was a good thing. What did you do with your clothes—did the ones from tonight get destroyed too?” He tsk’d.

“We forgot to pick them up,” Harry said, and an enormous yawn escaped him.

“Well, come on,” Lucius said as he herded the boys down the hall before him. “There’s still some of the night left, and you can tell Arthur I said to let you have a bit of a lie-in in the mor—Merlin’s flaming penis, Harry! Had a little spanking session, did you?” He whistled. “That looks painful.” Harry turned and gave him a speaking look, and Lucius chuckled. “Yes, Bella is rather fond of that paddle,” he said cheerfully. “I’ve often thought that maybe someone ought to—but no. No, I suppose not.”

Harry and Draco slid furtive glances at each other and smirked. What they wouldn’t give to be the ones holding the paddle, with Bella restrained and helpless! Maybe one of these nights, if they were very, very lucky....

When they reached the harem it appeared Arthur had finally gone to bed. Lucius took the boys into the main room and bade them wait. He walked into one of the enema rooms and the boys heard a drawer open. Lucius came back a moment later carrying a small jar of lavender-colored cream.

“This will help the burning,” he said, giving Harry’s ass a languid caress. Harry winced and Lucius said, “Draco, help him with it—but no funny business, now, understand?”

“Yes, Father,” Draco said.

“Well, good night, boys.”

“Oh! Father, she said she wanted to see you first thing in the morning,” Draco remembered as Lucius started off.

“Did she, by Jove?” Lucius said. “Very well.” He nodded and took his leave.

Draco looked at the cream. “Er...how d’you want to do this?”

“I don’t care,” Harry moaned. “I just want to go to sleep.”

Draco unscrewed the lid of the jar. “Well, hang on. This won’t take half a tick, and then maybe you’ll sleep better. Bend over a little.” He knelt and scooped out a generous dollop of cream and plopped it onto one abused ass cheek. It smelled rather nice, sort of herbal. With as light a touch as he could manage Draco massaged it into Harry’s reddened skin, trying to behave himself and not linger near the inviting cleft. Harry sighed with relief at the coolness of the cream.

Just as Draco was finishing the other cheek, a sleepy-eyed Marshall emerged from the sleeping quarters, having been awakened by their quiet voices. He stopped short upon seeing them in this compromising position: Harry bent over at the waist and Draco on his knees behind with his hands on Harry’s ass.

“Boys, what—what are you—” Marshall croaked in disbelief.

Draco held up the cream. “Father gave us this for Harry,” he said as he hurriedly stood up.

Marshall came round to look and his mouth made a round O as he viewed Harry’s glowing backside. “Good gad!” he exclaimed. “D’you think you’ll be able to sleep, Harry lad?”

Quickly, lest Marshall should have any thoughts of remedying the situation himself, Harry nodded. “We were just going,” he said hastily.

Draco screwed the lid back on the jar and set it on the rim of the pool, and he and Harry headed for the sleeping quarters. Marshall brought up the rear, his eyes glued longingly to the two pairs of muscled ass cheeks in front of him, wincing at the striking contrast between the paleness of one pair and the deep, aching pink of the other and resentfully suffering the pain of being able to look but not touch. When they reached their pallets, Harry and Draco lay down, Harry rather carefully and on his stomach, and Marshall went back to his own bed.

Some of them had rather a difficult time falling asleep that night, for a variety of reasons, but eventually the yawning and furtive rustling noises and throat-clearing faded away and the harem slept.
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Bella's Harem