Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Harco Empire	By : Toddy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 34430 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or films. I do not make any money from the writing of this story, just enjoyment.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
(Forced masturbation - CBT - thistle dildo -mutual anal intercorse}
~~~ SURPRISE ~~~
~~~ CHANTRY COTTAGE ~~~
Over tea, Hermione explained why the others were able to operate the wards. As they had surmised, the wards recognised any living being within any premises whilst they were being made; thus Erwin, Harry’s new owl, could come and go as he pleased. She also supposed that the birds who nested in the enclosed trees had automatic rights.
Hermione had some ideas about speeding up the pool building and all of them set too using her ideas. She wandered off looking for the source of the stream which meant that when the pool was complete she could make a water transfer charm. It was rather like a waterspout when it appeared. Luckily she had warned them beforehand:
“Let’s all put our bathing suits on; then if we get splashed it won’t matter and we can have a swim afterwards, before dinner.”
The experiment was fun; they were worn out by the time the pool was made and filled, so they lazed around the pool, in it and out of it, until Ronald’s stomach clock reminded them that it was time for dinner.
After the meal they played exploding snap. When it got dark Ronald marvelled at the new lights and Blaise had another go at explaining them and his ideas about thaumic-electricity. The evening went quickly and then their hard work caught up with them; making them think of an early bedtime.
~~~ MALFOY MANOR ~~~
Prune-face still had hold of Draco’s cock when their seniors left. Draco tried to pull away and, because there was a little fluid left inside his member, the slipperiness helped his escape. He left his upper clothes stuck on the thorns and stepped out of his trousers and the remains of his undershorts; nakedly he fled across the lawn.
Prunella was not to be bested however; and quickly unscrambled herself from the rose bush that Draco had pushed her into; setting off in pursuit of her supposed amour. He dodged round the lily pond, ran through the knot garden and raced along the herbaceous border. In his fright he did not notice a hosepipe lying across the grassy walkway and tripped. Before he could rise she was upon him.
“Nice chase my little duckling, now for some more retributive fun.”
Draco ground his teeth at being called ‘Little Duckling’ whilst she used the altered Incarcerous that his father had used, pegging his wrists and splayed ankles into the turf. There was also a waist restraint applied. Splayed is too gentle a word, both legs were nearly at right-angles to his body giving her ample play space. Her first action was to caress the insides of his thighs – one of Draco’s supersensitive areas. Her eyes sparkled in glee as he shuddered and began to elongate. Once he was shiny again she delved into the pocket of her robe and produced a thin piece of cord. She made a noose and dropped it round the base of his balls pulling it tight and making him grunt in pain. Sailor-like she began to splice his baby-makers, carefully separating both spheroids and wrapping the cord round their bases. Each circle was pulled tighter than the previous ones, making Draco whimper in pain. Once his lower package was well secured she worked up his staff, looping and tightening as she went. By this time Draco was openly weeping. The constriction around his prick only intensified the size of his shining glans. Security finished she looked around the flower border; spotting an ornamental thistle she uprooted it. Every bit of his balls and inner thighs stung as she used it to torture him, all the while whispering false endearments to him and reminding him of the thrashing.
It only stopped when her mother called her to come home. As a final insult she used the stem of the thistle to shove up his bum and left him pegged to the lawn. The intrusion stung like Hades every time he struggled to remove the bindings – in the chill of the evening he eventually passed out.
~~~ CHANTRY COTTAGE ~~~
Dean and Seamus were sharing a shower when there was a knock on their door. Dean wandered over as he was. He had sensed that it was Ronald on the other side, and they had seen each other naked many times in the dorm.
“Come in Mr Weasley!” Dean called out mockingly.
“Err … Dusky … Have you a couple of spare rubbers I could have. Herms and I have decided to share the double bed and we think it wise to take precautions.”
“What kind of rubber? I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You know … Merlin … Oh … Maybe you don’t … Err!”
It was Seamus who came to the rescue.
“Here you are Ron. We aim to practice safe sex, even if we were committed ter each other solely.”
“Thanks Irish.”
Dean giggled and smirked at his companion: “I call those Jonnies not rubbers. I’m hot now. Look at the colour of my cock; it’s all shiny in anticipation.”
“Right, even so, let’s have some delicious kissing and foreplay first.”
Ronald fled, almost forgetting to close the door behind him.
Two eager young men fell on to the bed hugging and snogging. Dean was quivering in sexual expectation with Seamus not that far behind him. In between kisses and manipulations they got a new book out showing different sexual positions and Seamus said he wanted kiss his partner in mid fuck. So, legs on Seamus’s shoulders, Dean made himself available. Guided by Dean, Seamus first inserted one finger and pumped it. Once two fingers were in Seamus found Dean’s prostate, almost sending him over the top. Seamus’s shiny knob was soon even shinier, what with the latex covering and the applied lubricant. As instructed, the Irishman took things slowly, adjusting his angle of thrust to excite Dean’s love gland. Slow shallow thrusts became deeper ones, soon Seamus’s bum-dimples were emphasising his fast thrust rate and Dean was cooing in ecstasy.
Dean came first by half a second; his tightening sphincter set Seamus off on a record breaking ejaculation. Still inside, Seamus tried to withdraw, but he was still hard and the edges of his glans were very sensitive. Each attempt at withdrawal sent a shockwave through the Irishman’s body, making his hips dive forward back into Dean. Each time Seamus drove back in, his cock caressed Dean’s love centre causing him to spasm and grip. Nearly an hour later, and after a couple more minor orgasms, Seamus’s prick had shrunk enough to be able to withdraw it and the full condom from a panting Dean.
“That was great, Mon Amour, I’ve never dreamed of such a feeling, never mind experiencing it. Come on now it’s your turn.”
“Irish Love; I’m exhausted. I wasn’t just lying back and thinking of England, you know. Look at the mess that came out of my cock also.”
Seamus’s quick Scourgify solved the mess problem, and his secret hoard of mage-chocolate made inroads into their lack of energy. Some of the chocolate melted as they held it, so they had great fun licking every last drop of each other’s bodies.
Sometime in the wee small hours of the night Seamus became agitated.
“Come on Dean, please. I want to give you the pleasure you gave me and I want to feel this love-bump thing, which you say feels so great. Let’s try a new position.”
They pored over the book.
“That one!” exclaimed Seamus.
“Are you sure, the book says that the first time can hurt quite a bit?”
“Well there has to be a first time sometime, let it be tonight.”
More snogging soon had both parties in the right mood.
“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Wow Dusky; that was great. Ooh, you’ve hit it again; Oh!”
Seamus had already placed a condom on Dean’s prick during the last of the chocolate session. Dean’s other hand applied lube where necessary and then came the moment of truth. Seamus could feel something that he thought felt like the circumference of a coke can, trying to gain admittance, and resisted. Dean reached round his lover’s torso and gave Seamus’s prong a pull. After tensing momentarily, the Irishman relaxed and Dean was inside. After a short pause Dean moved further in, angling his cock-head to hit Seamus’s love-bump.
“Oh Lover, do that again please … Ooh … Oh … Ah …”
On each thrust Dean caressed Seamus’s energised prostate. Seamus became extremely vocal, shouting his enjoyment at the top of his voice. Both participants were knackered, so they fell asleep spooned together, regardless of the mess in the bed.
~~~
In Harry’s room he collapsed early. Almost like a Voldie dream he saw Draco re-living the horror of Prunella’s attack. Well maybe it was a horrible experience for the blond, but it reminded Harry of his dreams pre the Pasha's Party. Net result was that he had multiple orgasms throughout the night.
Neville had a good sleep because Blaise and Justin had gone out strolling in the warm night. They had found a mossy dell in the moonlight, and although they had no book they had been experimenting also.
~~~ MALFOY MANOR ~~~ 05/08/98
Draco was definitely not celebrating when he awoke the following morning. His nether regions still stung from the residual thistle poison and his genitals were still bound tightly. One good thing was that he was in his own bed, but even that was worrying, because he knew not who had put him there. He badly needed a pee and waddled carefully off into his private bathroom. Nothing came out. With tears in his eyes, Draco sat on the closed lid of the loo and, not daring to use his wand on his tool, gingerly started to unpick all the knots prune-face had so thoroughly tied. It took an hour to have everything hanging loose, but still very sore. Five minutes of solid peeing relieved that part of his system, and a further ten minutes were spent coaxing the pent-up love-juice to spurt.
Weak-kneed, Draco lay in the bath soaking up soothing potions and partaking of a long bubble bath. As he soaked he planned his, now urgent, getaway.
~~~ CHANTRY COTTAGE ~~~
Harry, Ronald and Neville were the only persons who could walk easily in the morning; the others were slightly bow-legged to begin with. They all consumed a double fry-up before their breakfast appetites were sated and then just lolled around hugging on the sofas. A gentle swim before coffee break had them feeling more energetic. Afterwards Blaise suggested that they went to the pub for lunch so Justin got his cell-phone out and rang the publican.
{Of course Mr Finch-Fletchley, we’d love to feed you and your friends, would one-o-clock be suitable?}
Most of the gang went to the inn for a pint or two. Not fancying the pub atmosphere; Harry, Ronald and Hermione took a path through the fields and entered the village from a different direction; the walk took about half an hour. As there was still time to spare Harry went to Mrs Amis’s to buy fresh bread, and then took Ronald and Hermione to see the delightful interior of the parish church.
Samantha Kidson was there polishing the brass lectern.
“Hello Mr Potter, are these two new friends of yours?”
“I think you should call me Harry you know.”
“Ooh; I could never do that, not to a man of your persuasion.”
Harry smiled his most winning smile. “Use my formal name when there are lots of people around maybe, but not when there’s just a few of us, please?”
“Well, if you insist. It’ll still feel odd though.”
“Okay! Samantha, I’d like you to meet two very good friends of mine from College, Hermione and Ronald. The others have gone to the pub for a quiet drink.”
“Yes, they do that occasionally”
General hand-shaking took place and then Samantha took them on a guided tour, telling them of the history and pointing out various effigies and plaques. There was a door high in the wall of each transept; quite obviously not leading anywhere.
“What are they for, Samantha?”
“There used to be two side balconies but they became rotten so we had them removed. There were side galleries in the nave as well. If you look on the walls the decorated corbel-brackets for the beams are still there. I think we still have permission to rebuild all of them, but the congregation is smaller now, so there’s no need.”
“So there are stairs on the other side?”
“Yes, the north door is almost opposite the new toilets we had put in over the vestry.”
“Um … Could you show me please … Um…? The coffee from this morning …?”
“… Of course,” Samantha smiled sympathetically.
It was the second door along and led into a small vestibule with an outside door. Stairs went down to the choir room and boiler, they were told. Those going up led to the place where Harry relieved himself. When he came out he heard voices coming from above and went further up the stairs. Samantha was showing the others the organ’s internal works which were situated in the attic.
Instead of descending, the church-lady led them through a twisty stepped passage and up an interminable flight of spiral stairs. At each door they paused and peered into the room. The first was the ringing room, with ropes hanging through holes in the ceiling. Each rope had a red, blue and white tufted piece of furry material on them. Samantha said they were called sallies and the looped ropes below, tails. The next room up contained the workings for the clock. Samantha explained that the weights had to be wound up once a week and that Mr Foley knew how. Surrounding the main mechanism, the ropes continued upwards. It was also a form of sound insulation, they were told. Above that was the bell chamber containing a frame with bells seemingly placed higgledy-piggledy all over. Samantha said the bells were placed so that the stresses caused by the bells swinging evened out.
Above that was the roof protected by a low battlement. They spent half an hour up there looking at the surrounding hills and houses. This helped Harry understand the layout of the village in which he hoped to live. Arriving back down the hundred steps [Hermione had counted them] Harry asked about the other transept.
“Yes! The high door in the south transept is opposite to the entrance to the squire’s family pew. He held it in loco from the Lord of the Manor. The squire was my husband. It’s not used very often. It’s over Saint Godric’s chapel. That’s the oldest part of the church; said to be from the roman period. I’ll show you if you like?”
“Yes please.”
They looked inside the chapel; it had a statue of the saint placed behind the central brass cross on the altar and flanked by two round-headed lancet windows. Five seats were on the side walls and two flanking the doorway, they overlooked a multi-coloured medieval tiled floor. The ceiling was a barrel vault and looked extremely ancient. The whole room had an atmosphere of holy peace about it. There was also an interesting memorial on the wall and Hermione stared at it.
“What’s this one, Samantha?” Harry asked.
“Err … I’m not sure you should peruse that one.” Samantha gave Hermione a very odd look.
“Why not?”
“Well you might find it insulting, even though it happened over five hundred years ago.”
By this time all three intrigued youngsters were peering at the plaque.
Hermione started giggling. “Harry it commemorates a witch burning in the middle ages. Rosmerta Nigrus was her name. D’you think she’s a Black ancestress, if so she’s distantly related to both of you two.”
Samantha was now looking extremely agitated.
Harry put on his best smile again. “Don’t worry, Samantha, we all have things that happened to us in the past. I bet every family has a skeleton somewhere in their cupboard. I, for one, won’t get uptight about something that happened that long ago and I’m sure Ron won’t. It does seem odd to commemorate a witch in church, though.”
Hermione had been engrossed reading the Latin on the plaque and translating it. “The plaque gives us that answer. It seems the priest at the time was a fanatic martinet, and the witch wanted a more liberal approach. He caused her to be burnt at the stake and as she died she cursed the priest. Within three days he went mad. Err … Samantha, do you read Latin?”
“I learned a bit at school, why?”
“There’s a word I’m not familiar with, it’s plural and seems to refer to a public subscription of some kind.” Hermione pointed out the word.
“Oh that one! I’ve seen it in the old parish records, it refers to the parishioners. So the people subscribed for her to be re-buried in consecrated ground, look it says so here.”
“There was no need to be nervous, was there?”
“No, but Mr Goodfellow flew off the handle when he saw it. He said he’d never set foot inside this building until it had been removed.”
“He would. He thinks his kind should rule the world, we’re against that, thank you very much.”
“Just what we all thought. Nice to have it confirmed, though. Oh look; here comes the vicar, I’d better get back to my polishing.”
“Thanks for the guided tour Samantha, it was very interesting.”
“Good morning Father John.”
“Good morrow Mage Harry.”
“Okay, I get it. John, these are two good friends of mine from college, Hermione and Ronald. They’ll be staying with me for a couple of days or so.”
More tingling handshaking.
“I’m glad I caught you here, Harry. I’m hearing disturbing things about Woodyates Farm, Araxes seems to have guests, and they appear to be unsavoury characters.”
“Thanks, I’ll get some friends to look into it. You do well to be suspicious, my friends know of him and his notoriety. Don’t let any young people go near that house; that includes those in their twenties as well. We have no proof yet, but the indications are of mutilated deaths.”
“I get the drift, thanks for the warning. It’ll be the foolhardy ones who have most to prove that’ll be at risk; there are three of them in the choir who like to get up to mischief. If I forbid them, or their parents do, they’ll just see it as a dare.”
“Would a picture of a sexually mutilated body help?”
“Mmm, it might. I suspect they’re experimenting with each other. Have you got one?”
“I reckon I can get one, would you share dinner with us tonight, and I’ll give it you then.”
“My wife’ll kill me if I miss another meal she’s cooked, can I pop round afterwards?”
“Of course, say about nine?”
“That’ll suit me fine.”
“We’re going to join our other friends at the pub for lunch. Care to join us?”
John burst out laughing. “Top marks for trying, Harry, but the answer is still the same.” He glanced at his watch: “Oh dear, my lunch will be on the table already. I hope you enjoy yours as much as I will mine.” He hoisted up the skirts of his cassock and exited at the trot.
Samantha was giggling as they exited. She sat with a flask and an open packet of sandwiches: “His wife’s not an ogre, but he forgets to eat if she isn’t firm with him. It’s become a sort of game with them. Take no notice.”
Richard, the publican, had a game pie waiting for them. Harry got the feeling that it had been specially baked and carried out a few surreptitious tests. Then he saw that no one else was eating and sussed that it was indeed specially baked for him and his guests. The problem was in paying for the meal afterwards. Richard didn’t want to accept payment; it took a lot of persuasion for him to accept the money. Harry felt like threatening to curse Richard, but resorted to the ‘we won’t come back if you don’t let us pay’ argument. Richard saw reason, no doubt wondering that, if the local mage refused to frequent his establishment, then others might follow the wise man’s lead.
Ronald argued with Harry on the way back to the cottage, saying that he should accept goodwill offerings.
“I already get enough,” said Harry, tripping over the small pile at his door. “I don’t want to be seen as a freebooter, these things are bad enough.”
Further argument was cut short when Harry sensed somebody in the apparating area. Hermione helped Justin put their purchases away whilst Harry and Ronald went to see who was there.
~~~ MALFOY MANOR ~~~
Draco was still plotting when Sonny appeared: “Are you all right Master?”
“Yes thank you, Sonny. Hmm … How did I get to my room?”
“We carried you there. Why did you have that plant shoved up your bum? Did it give you a thrill? Do you want it back? If not, can I try it …?”
“Stop … Stop … Hmm … Thank you … Someone put it in there … No! It hurt like Hades … No! You can throw it away … Hmm … And I wouldn’t recommend it to my worst enemy … In that order.”
Sonny puzzled over the answer for a minute and then continued: “Is it true you’re going to marry Prune-face?”
“I don’t want to … And I hope to escape before she returns and does something else unspeakable to me.”
“Oh goody! We elves think she’d be like your late Aunt Bellatrix … She was a nasty mistress if ever there was one … Can I help you escape?”
“Well … If you could find my wand for me, that’d be a good start.”
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