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Garden of Lilies	By : sappysappysappy Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Lily Views: 7889 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Characters and world of Harry Potter do not belong to me and I'll not be pocketing stashes of money from it either!

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 2
- 3
Warnings: This chapter goes into a weird place but hopefully a good place for you (Little Sex-Dolls Fetish) Shouldn't have a major effect on the rest of the story though, probably.

Also, there is a brief scene of animal cruelty. It isn't graphic and was not fetishized. It begins with 'I saw some of the local muggle boys' in case you want to avoid it. It's only one paragraph..

Now one with the story.

14^th November, 1981 (Saturday)

Oh, Lily. How you must despise me. My poor dear. I’ve been so inconsiderate of you. So ham-handed. I will do better. I promise you, Lily. Please don’t be disappointed with me. I suppose I was so obsessed with ensuring your safety, I forgot that other things matter as well. When I carried you here last night, how small I felt. I had no home to show you. I brought you, my precious Lily, into a dilapidated wreck. Litter, dust, dirt and broken furniture were all there was to greet you in your new lodgings. I couldn’t lay you down amidst that awfulness, but what choice did I have? Keeping you in my old bed any longer was simply too risky, now that I’ve got this secret place to stash you in. I couldn’t risk it, no matter how much you had to endure for our sake in the meantime. That is why, in the end, I conveyed you to the basement and laid you down on that hastily transfigured stainless steel folding table.

I didn’t like the way you looked on that metal table. Not one bit. In that dank, cold, chamber, under the bluish glare of the witch-lights, I couldn’t shake the conviction we were in a morgue and you, just a, a cadaver. A bruised, naked cadaver. Was I heartless to deprive you of your clothes? Like in everything else lately, I had no thought of tomorrow as I deprived you of everything but your very flesh and bones. It wasn’t intentional. I did it all in the heat of the moment, in the throws of passion. During our fervid commingling and its aftermath. No, I won’t apologize for my actions. I’d do it all again and again, endlessly, if given half the chance to do it over. That’s just how deeply I love you. But I suppose I can give an explanation, no, not an explanation. Rather, a justification, on these pages.

You remember our time together, the day before yesterday. How could you forget it? I ploughed every curve and crevice of your sweet, giving body that day. I knew all of you with all of me. Maybe I was a tad rough with you in my loving. Maybe I am at fault for these new bruises you display for me. But those bruises were proudly earned. Yes. They were so finely wrought, my darling. So very finely and so very pleasurably. Be proud of them. They’re not a mar, Lily. Quite the opposite! They’re marks of honour I, oh, so lovingly bequeathed on you. So I roughed you up. I am somewhat versed in healing charms, aren’t I? Treating the recently living can’t be that different from treating the actually living. I’m sure I can find the appropriate spells to mend you. It’s only a temporary measure, of course, till I can revive you at last but I’d like you to look your best and… if I do decide to enjoy you again before I revive you (who knows how long it will take to accomplish that unprecedented task), I should be prepared. It’s only proper to be prepared, right? I won’t neglect you in this in-between time. We mustn’t let you get lonely, or bored. Perish the thought.

Anyway, I must now confess: the long blue nightgown with little frills you died in, the expensive-looking gold acorn earrings you had in your ears and, don’t be mad, even your wonderful, wicked white lace knickers didn’t survive our lovemaking. When I finally rose from bed yesterday, after having my wicked way with you one more time, your nightgown and knickers were torn to pieces and scattered all over the room. I could reparo them, of course. I almost did restore your knickers. But you wore them for Potter! Maybe even on a night when he lay with you. Ugh. I reduced them to ashes in an instant and dispelled even that to nothing. Such repugnant notions. I couldn’t have such pestiferous articles anywhere near us. As for your earrings… I noticed your left earring was missing yesterday, after I laid you on the table downstairs. Your earlobe was torn and flecked black. A small thing, so easily hidden by your abundant tresses. Who could blame me for not noticing? Yes. I might have torn it off in my enthusiasm, when I nibbled on your ear. There. I’ve said it. Your ear will be good as new, as soon as I learn how to treat it. Better than. I promise. But those earrings didn’t belong with you in this new life you have here, with me. They were markings Potter placed on you, claims of his ownership, that damned, self-conceited git. You got them from him, didn’t you? You must’ve. I took the other earring gently out of your ear, summoned the missing one from my bedroom and, after scourgifying them thoroughly, banished them to your former bedroom in Godric Hollow. If anyone notices them there now, they’ll assume you took them off for the night.

I abandoned you then, on that hard, freezing, metal table. I should have covered you with something. I could have placed my robe over you. It would’ve been so easy! Instead, I hurried back to my own house and busied myself in erasing any hint or residue of your stay there.

Now here I sit, by this makeshift table, filling this journal with one useless, unneeded explanation after the next, while you lie there on the table below. I do not want to finish this entry. For when I do, I must rise and decide, whether I can go downstairs and better your situation somehow, or do I resign myself to leave you in your present state. I cannot bear to see you like that again. The mere contemplation of your condition is a torture for me, but what else can I do with you? There is no better place for you in this decrepit ruin. If only I could keep you with me, by my heart, where you would keep warm. Though… why cannot I accomplish such a thing? I have magic. I could perform a transfiguration on you. Reduce your size so you’d fit in my pocket. You’d need to be more resilient, of course, mustn’t harm you, but that’s not even close to impossible. I must be careful, though. I mustn’t make any permanent changes. You mustn’t be damaged.

You look so cute as a rag doll, Lily. I put you on the desk before me while I write this, but I can’t keep my hands off of you. The urge to play with your adorable little doll-body is irresistible. I tickled you under your chin just now, Little Lilly. ‘Little Lily’, hmm, that’s a bit of a mouthful for a diminutive figure like yourself. I can’t call you Lils, that’s my old nickname for you, Lily. I need a totally new name for this you. A cute little name to fit your cute little body. You could be Lulu, or Lolo, or… Dolly. Bah. None of these names jibes. Wait. I believe I’ve got it. Little Lilly – I dub thee ‘Lilsy’!

You are so adorably cute, Lilsy. I’ve played with you for half an hour. I moved your little arms and legs about. I rolled you around the desk, a bit. I was even a little naughty just now and stroked you between your legs with my littlest finger. Then I pinched your little behind for your naughtiness.

You must be dying to know how you look now, Lils. Here, I’ve conjured a little hand-mirror for Lilsy to examine herself. Little Lilsy struts this way, she struts that way, she peeks over her shoulder to discover how her other side looks. She passes her fingerless, soft hand through her tresses of red, woolly threads. Yes, Lilsy. A rag doll such as yourself cannot have fine threads for hairs. Do not worry. I love you still. This wolly hair befits the rest of you, Lilsy. You put your hand over your mouth. You grope for the place where your nose should be. Your little bead-bright, green, button-eyes gleam. Ah, you have discovered: Your pert little nose is mere paint. It does not protrude from your muslin features. Lilsy still smiles, for Lilsy’s smiling mouth is made of red stitches. Lilsy will never be sad. Now your other hand jumps to your chest. Oh, Lilsy. Don’t be discouraged, Little Lilsy. You still have lovely breasts, you even have nipples! I know they’re only painted depictions. Really, Lilsy. You are a rag doll. Your white muslin chest will not stick out. I will not have impropriety in the doll house.

I picked Lilsy up and stroked her hair. This is nice. She’s smiling at me through her messy hair. I reward her with kisses. I kiss her little breasts, I kiss the spot of paint, her little belly-button, I stroke her rosily hued painted arse to demonstrate to my Lilsy how much I appreciate her. I lov--

Bad quill! I don’t need a quick quotes quill. I put it away and picked up a new quill. What an embarrassment. I’m a grown-up wizard. I do not have bouts of spontaneous magic. Though a good TriQ might come in useful. They’re usually so excitable, and florid. You want a sentence written and they give you a whole paragraph. This one seems more disciplined. I could use it to chronicle potion research notes or even, the moments of your reawakening, as they occur!

You waited patiently for me just now, Lilsy. What a good doll you are. Now I can show you the final part. Here. Put your hand between your legs. Yes, yes. Your clit and pussy are only painted. Don’t sulk, Lilsy. I say it looks marvellous. Oh, you think it was drawn crudely. You’re mad with me. I admit, it’s not high art. Just like your new arse, or your breasts and nipples. I intentionally styled them as works of a boy’s quill on your doll-person. You must concede me my artistic license. I am your creator, after all. But do not despair. It’s not all paint. Feel this, Lilsy! A ginger patch, made in clever little orange stitches. I know how proud you were of your ginger patch. I could tell. You kept it so neat and well delineated. You didn’t let it spread over your pussy or your clit, Lily. You made them so deliciously accessible for me, when I went down on you. Thanks to me, you retain your patch of ginger even in your Lilsy form.

You will remain a doll until we finish renovating your home for you, Lily. I will not forsake you again. I will carry you with me, constantly. My coat pocket will be your dwelling place until I can make this house worthy of you. We will sleep here from now on so you won’t be in any danger while I rest. There. A new mattress in the nearby corner. The house will be my gift to you. I haven’t given you any presents in a long time. You used to love getting surprise gifts, didn’t you, Lils? I will make your home renovations a special surprise gift. I know you’ll be thrilled to see it finished all at once. But how can I keep anything secret from you if you accompany me as I work on your gift-house? I won’t leave you in a drawer, or a closet. Should I keep you hidden in my pocket for the duration? That seems cruel.

You must be blindfolded, Lilsy. That is the only solution. We cannot trust a wilful, curious doll like you to keep her button-eyes closed for any length of time, even when sternly told. We must take steps to ensure Lilsy’s compliance. Wait for a tick. There. With this dark-green silk ribbon tied around your soft head, you won’t be able to peek, Little Lilsy. We’ll cut the dangling ends, and we’re done.

You are so very naughty, Lilsy. Parade naked on my desk with only a blindfold to cover yourself in? For shame. Where are all your doll-clothing? Lost them, you say? Every single stitch? You poor dear. Come here. Take my lace handkerchief. You can use it to cover yourself. I don’t mind You smile and shake your head? Wicked girl. You like to parade around in your birthday suit, I see. Not a goody goody little doll at all, are you? You are shameless, Lilsy. Wickedly, wantonly, shameless! At least take the remaining length of ribbon I made your blindfold from. A doll like you can never have too many ribbons. You want me to tie it around your waist for now? Very well. There. It’s not too tight. The ends dangle behind, over you butt and between your legs. We’ll shorten them with magic so you won’t stumble on them. Now sit down, dear thing. You must be getting tired from all this activity. Not like this, Lilsy! Good dolls do not sit with their legs spread wide and their arms thrown back. Very improper. You’d like me to tickle you don’t you? Oh, I see you do. I’m putting my quill down and after that, there would be no escape from my fingers. This is your final warning, Lilsy!

The windows are darkening, I can hardly see a thing. Lilsy is so great. I had no idea what I was missing as a kid. I’m exhausted.

I’m putting you in my pocket now, Lilsy, so behave. I’ve got my hand in there… to attend to all your needs.

16^th November, 1981 (Monday)

Creating a house Lily will adore is so much harder than I expected. I want to impress her. I need to show her with my choices that I know her inside and out; to prove to her she can be content as my woman; that I can provide for all her needs; that I can make her happy. But what do I know about decorating a house for a woman or even renovations? I haven’t the foggiest notion what kind of drapes my Lily needs on her window. I would not even know where to acquire such articles. (Transfiguration is a warhorse but I’m sure I’d bungle some feminine intricacy and won’t know better until it was too late. It’s not worth the risk.) What do I do? I promised Lily I’d do this for her. How can I back down? Lilsy was my sole reprieve these last few days. Whenever I get too frustrated, she is available to console and distract me. How she cheers me up with her little antics. But for all her playful wantonness she is no Lily. I throb for her so! Maybe if I engorged Lilsy and transfigured some naughty, little cavities… no. Lilsy is for fun and play, no more. I must keep to my goals: A real, living Lily and a house she’ll be content to reside and welcome me in. So I’m not all knowing. No one is. I can find the needful instructions in books or, if none can be found, in the unguarded minds of those who do. I should have realised this sooner. Yes. I will go out to acquire the requisite knowledge. I need money, though. What I have won’t be nearly enough to pay for everything I will need to renovate this house. There is the Death Eater’s slush-fund. It’s got more than plenty, both muggle and magical, and who would be guarding it now? I like this idea. That’ll show god-damned ‘Lord’ Voldemort. We’ll just put you in your pocket, Lilsy, and cast the strongest notice-me-not spell we can cast on you before we go. No one will know you are there.

This was a fruitful shopping trip. I wish I could show my haul to Lily. How fascinated my Lily would be to see all the magazines and books I acquired, but this is all part of my surprise for her. You must be patient, Lily. My left hand is in my pocket, grasping Lilsy and stroking her head with my thumb. My little finger sneaks betwixt her little legs, to rub her in the dark. Oh, all right. Out you go, little Lilsy. You’re a good, obedient doll, Lilsy. You didn’t try to take off your blindfold or peek out of your pocket while we were out. Oh, you raise your chin at me? So uppity. Ah, I understand. You can put your hands down now. You cannot take off your blindfold or climb out of pockets because your fingerless hands are too clumsy to untie the knots or grasp things. But see, your hands are not useless in important matters. Stroke yourself, don’t be shy. Yes. First on the mouth, to wet them, and then down, across your perfectly round tits, (you like your little tits, don’t you, Lilsy? I know you do.) and down your smooth belly, to your not so secret, secret place. Your very favourite place. Ooh!

Mustn’t be distracted! I must get back to the renovations. Lie there on your back, Lilsy, and distract yourself.

I think I’m growing a cramp in my doll-obssessed left hand. But what will be of little Lilsy if I cease my attentions to her now? She’ll be so devastated. And frustrated. She’s so very horny. I can see it in her taut posture. She must receive relief. My hand almost darted to her, before I could stop it. They’ve grown so attached to each other. I suppose I’ve no alternative. I need to animate you Lilsy. I wanted to, for days now, you know, but I restrained myself so far. You wouldn’t mind, would you Lily? It’s not really you I’m putting the compulsions upon, right? And anyway, I’m only freeing you to enact your desires.

So what should I put in you, Lilsy dear? First, some strict rules you mustn’t disobey. Lets lengthen your waist-band a bit and tie it to my left wrist. This way you cannot wander off. But it’s all right. It’s two feet long now. You’ll have plenty of room to do whatever you like, Lilsy. We’ll magic it secure. The blindfold as well, while we’re at it. Now that that’s done, let us imbue you, Lilsy, with wantonness, high spirits, exhibitionism (my Lilsy is hardly shy!), playfulness, curiosity and, of course, throbbing all-consuming horniness. Let us add a liking for my hands and lips. Only natural for you to feel this way, Lilsy. The feeling is very mutual, you know. Finally, animation: arms, hands, legs and head. You are ready, Little Lilsy. Off you go. Enjoy yourself.

Lilsy now sits with her back leaning on the shopping bag. Her legs are spread wide, the knees slightly appraised, and her hand busily working between them. Lilsy smiles contentedly. She checked the limits of her tether earlier and made her acquaintance with Lefty. She kissed each finger and rubbed her head against them. She is so wonderful. If only you could see this, Lily. You would blush, wouldn’t you, Lily?

I tickled Lilsy in the belly with my feather quill. She was simply too cute. I couldn’t help myself. Lilsy jumped to her feet and turned her head this way and that, groping with outstretched arms about to discover what had just tickled her. I led her on a merry chase all over the desk, darting my quill to tickle her on her chest and on her grinning mouth, I swipe beneath her butt, heh heh, and stroked her, teasingly, on her shoulders and on the sides of her legs. I even managed a few swipes on her little, darling pussy. How she would have shrieked if she could make a sound. The poor dear stumbled, time after time, over her tether and over the paraphernalia spread over the desk but she never stopped smiling! Even when she got so tangled in her long, silk tether, she needed my help to free herself. She did get mad for a bit. She started kicking the shopping bag and even tried to tear off her blindfold but I soon distracted her with more tickling by my feather’s end. She managed to clasp the feather’s end between both hands a few times, but it was too big for her to wield by herself the one time I let her have it. She gave it back to me and showed me where to stroke her. She’s so polite. When I ‘dual wielded’ feather quills with both hands, my Lilsy collapsed on her back and just waved her arms and legs about to ward me off. I stroked her head afterwards to calm her down. She now putters about the desk with groping arms, exploring the lay of the land and pushing things about to make it more comfortable for herself. My Lilsy is so clever.

It’s getting late. I’ll take this muggle structural engineering book to bed with me. It’s a good place to start.

17^th November, 1981 (Tuesday)

I believe all the major structural modifications and the needful plumbing, ventilation, heating, lighting and so forth are properly taken care of. I could have just magicked everything to fit my desires willy-nilly but the magical cost would be high both in initial casting and in maintenance and if any spell fizzled, the whole structure could collapse. It’s the mark of a foolish wizard to go about life that way, though far too many witches and wizards do just that and never grasp the reason for their mishaps.

I’m still stuck by the conundrum of what ‘home design’ Lily will like. The various suggestions in the home-design magazines are endless, but which would win my Lily’s regard? Lilsy, by the was was tireless last night. I never thought to charm a sleeping cycle into her. In the end, (it was well past midnight by then,) I pushed her off my chin and rolled her round and round on the mattress, wrapping her in her long silk tether. I secured it with a little safety pin I summoned from my house. She still humped on my hand all night but she is a rag doll. I slept through it.

I can do the basement, for now. I don’t need home-design magazines to guide me there.

18^th November, 1981 (Wednesday)

The basement is perfect! You’ll simply love it, Lily. I had the most marvellous idea for it. I can’t wait to show you. I still need to stock it with potion ingredients, but that can wait. The centrepiece is still missing, though. It will be tricky to procure. I know a spot where one is located. I will go there later, under the cover of night, and take it. I already placed the magical books I bought on Monday down there. Maybe I should also transfer some of the books from my house. Would anyone notice them missing? I doubt it. I’ll pack my choices and bring them over the next time I’m there.

In other news, Lilsy learned her lesson and behaved last night. She ceased her boisterous devilries as soon as I told her it was time for sleep and humped my fingers very gently from that point on.

Right now, she’s utilising her green silk ribbon tether for very naughty purposes. She pulled it taut by going to the far right end of the desk. Her bum is pointed towards me, the cheeky toy-girl. She has a loop wrapped around her joined hands and swings back and forth over it to rub her needy nether-paints. That girl! She’s so inconsiderate. Doesn’t she know I want to watch the show from a better angle? I dragged her to the middle by pulling the middle of the ribbon beneath the far left corner of the desk. Lilsy doesn’t mind. My raunchy doll is at it again, standing front and center, now in profile and slightly towards me. Much better.

19^th November, 1981 (Thursday)

Last night’s expedition was more then successful. The Basement is now complete. There were no problems at the site. There was no one there. When someone finally notices it is missing they’ll have no idea who took it. I left Lilsy on the mattress, tied tight with her long silk ribbon while I was out. She was very glad to have me back. She hugged me for a whole minute when I finally released her, after I set everything in its place. I felt bad for her but it was for her own safety.

I saw some of the local muggle boys by the river. They had caught a hare and were busy torturing it. They didn’t notice, of course. I was spelled against detection. But when I saw what they had in their dirty hands I had an inspiration. I chased them away with fright and terror hexes and picked up the abandoned hare. It was still alive, barely, so I put it out of its misery with an avada kedavra and brought it to my house. With this hare, I could explain my more questionable acquisitions if Dumbledore ever gets wind of them. I will tell him I got treatises on the treatment and restoration of dead bodies because I had to undo the horrid death-blows this hare suffered. He’ll think I’ve gone daft but surely he expects something of the sort with you dead. I’ve even charmed its fur ginger to complete the legerdemain

The hare will be useful. It’s not just there for show. She will be my practice run before I attempt anything on you.

21^th November, 1981 (Saturday)

I can’t go on like this much longer. I need to finish this house for you already. How long can I be deprived of you, Lily? I spend my time honing my necrosanocy (the healing of the dead) skills on the hare and riffling through my memories of you to find what you might like. I wish I had a pensieve. It would make this so much easier.

I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have Lilsy to lighten my mood and entertain me.

22^th November, 1981 (Sunday)

I’ve finally found the solution to this home-design quandary among my memories of you, Lily. I can do it. I can remake this house for you. I’ll have to be out and about a lot if I am to accomplish anything, though. Poor Lilsy will have to be tied on the mattress again whenever I’m not here. But it’s necessary. Lilsy is a careless, tricksy little thing and must be restrained so she won’t get into any mischief while there’s no one about.

In celebration of my solution, I placed Lilsy in the middle of my desk and indicated to her it’s time to perform for me. She’s doesn’t need much prompting. She always likes to pose for me or put on a little show if she gets half the chance. She’s an irremediable exhibitionist. But this time I won’t just watch, like all the previous times. No more altruistic finger-fucks for Lilsy. No more blue-balls. I’ve held on for too long. I deserve a bit of pleasure after all the hard work I did here for you, Lily nee Potter. I must have some release or I’ll explode. See if I don’t. I’m not saving myself for dear, precious Lily any longer. It’s been more then a week since I had her! I’m putting aside my regular quill and placing the quick quotes quill I made in its stead. I’ve got other tasks for my hands right now.

I cluck my tongue and Lilsy gives me a cocky bow and runs backwards, pulling her ribbon tether tight. She squats down and gets her ribbon between her legs. Will Lilsy repeat her past ribbon-rubbing performance? My hand rests on my belt-buckle, undecided. Lilsy has her arse towards me now and grasps her ribbon between her hands. Exactly like last time. What cheek! Should I intervene? Maybe give her a smart bop in her buttocks to amend her performance? But wait. It’s not a repeat performance. Lilsy is crouching. She’s sitting on her ribbon. I can see her legs extending to either side with the knees bent up. Her clever hands are between them with the ribbon still clasped between them. I open my buckle, one-handedly. What will my inventive Lilsy do now? She peeks over her shoulder at me (which is a feat considering her blindfold is still securely on.) She would surely wink at me if she could. One by one, I clumsily undo my trousers’-buttons. I am officially excited. I hold my breath.

I was right. My Lilsy is a wonder. She just yanked on her ribbon, thereby sliding backwards, towards me, across the table and along her ribbon. That was seven inches in one go, at least! I clutch myself through my open trousers, before hastily rising into a half-stand so they could drop. Mustn’t yank on the ribbon! Doing all this one-handed is devilishly hard. But it’s worth it. I’m back in my sit. I grasp her purpose now. Lilsy is giving her needy nether regions a marvellously thorough rub with the grainy surface of the desk she’s sitting upon while, at the same time, wielding her ribbon expertly to give it an extra oomph. I’m opening my little brief-buttons as fast as I can. I hear some pings. I’ve must’ve torn off a few in my hastiness. The ribbon slides deliciously through just the are spot between Lilsy’s legs. She must really be enjoying this. She’s rocking back and forth, her head thrown backward so far, I can see a hint of her delighted smile from over here. She paused. She’s wiggling her little arse at me, the little tease. Finally, my throbbing cock is free, Slytherin’s Snake be praised! I huff and puff on my hand to moisten it. She’s about to do something new and wonderful. I just know it.

I hurry to grasp my impatient cock. Oh ho. She’s rapidly dragging herself forward and away from me with her feet. It would be walking, if she wasn’t sitting down. My Lilsy can pleasure herself in both directions! I am so hard now. I rub myself, forcefully, vigorously. She’s not done yet! There Lilsy goes back again, and forward, and backwards and forwards. What speed. What energy. I tamp down on my excitement. I mustn’t let it end so soon. I can and will persevere. Now Lilsy lies down on her stomach. This time her face is towards me. I slow down my fapping, to discover what her next act shall be. I suddenly notice she did something with her tether. I lean forward to get a better look. Her tether disappears beneath her chin. It reappears once more over her buttocks. She pulled a length over her back so she could grasp it between her clumsy hands before it goes back to the knot around her waist. Oh, Lilsy. Wily and randy, that’s my darling doll. She pulls on it and, sure enough, gets yanked towards me. We grin at each other. The ribbon coasts between her thighs, through her gratified pussy and between her blushing buttocks. Such a clever little girl. She’s so pleased. Her legs shake with the power of her delight. She runs back away to repeat the feat again. And again. My Lilsy is such an indefatigable source of joy. My fapping grows more hurried. I breathe so heavily, she must feel my exhalations on her muslin skin. I Squeeze myself with all my might to stop myself from giving in. I need to see more. More! Lilsy pulls herself more slowly, this time. Has she grown tired of this game? Closer and closer she yanks herself – she doesn’t stop nor pause – until with one fell yank she slides up my open left palm and embrace my fingers to hold herself up. She’s so flexible. Her touch is electric on my skin. She rubs herself, luxuriantly, against me and showers butterfly kisses on my fingertips. What an affectionate thing she is. My other hand slows its motions. It gives periodic squeezes to my cock, instead. I think I’ll like this next part. My Lilsy is about to get very close and personal.

Holding onto my fingertips for balance, Lilsy wriggles her legs up and between us until she manages, at last, to insert them between my second and fourth fingers, with my middle finger nicely caught between them. Her wriggling arse rests in my palm. Oh, what a succubus I have… in the palm of my hand! She clutches my middle finger in both hands and urges me to fold it so we can rub her Downstairs Offices with it. (What is this quill of mine even writing?! Surely that didn’t come from my mind!) I comply with Lilsy’s heartfelt request and adjusts my own stroking to fit. Oh yes! This is very nice.

Lilsy is a finicky thing. She won’t let me just stroke her as I please. She pushes my finger to that side and now the other. She hops on my palm when I’m not going fast enough for her. But when I get it just right, Lilsy throws her head back, flinging her hairs about and bends her legs back so much that they caress the back of my palm. I love it. I adore this little doll. She is a class of her own, my Lilsy. My cock throbs and nearly burns with sympathetic feelings. Like a bucking horse, it wants to show its feelings already with its load of frothing jizz. Lilsy will not slow or pause. To the contrary, she demands better speed. This rumbustious, thrilling moment could last all night long as far as she’s concerned. How can I keep up with such a creature? I’m only human. I’m going to lose it. I can feel it but I cannot, I mustn’t, stop! We do not slow our frenzied rhythm. Not by a smidgen. I bite my lower lip and only notices I did when I taste blood. I have no attention to spare for such trivialities. My eyes are glued to the silently squealing Lilsy on my sweaty palm.

I’m moments away from completion. I have to get away, quickly! There’s no time to lose. I try to stand up and make a run for the rubbish heap in the corner. I squeeze my cock in a death-grip. Not yet. Not just yet! Lilsy doesn’t care. She’s swinging her legs back and forth, shaking her rump about on my palm. I look at her and it’s all over. The chair crashes down behind me, my ankles get tangled in my lowered trousers and out of my rock-hard cock spurts all the hoarded juice of my thwarted ardour in rapid, heavy bursts. They sputter on the table and stain my diary, nof complefely messeng fhes sfeadfasf quell en fhe messy process! And my Lelsy! She’s covered all over wefh my jezz. She’s dreppeng! E’m such a dolf! All E had fo do was fleng my leff hand fo fhe sede and Lelsy wouldn’f gef messy! Lelsy grows sfell. Well she mend? She jumped off my palm. She sefs down on fhe fable near my hand. Surely a good segn? She doesn’f look upsef. She doesn’f affempf, fufelely, fo clean herself up. She looks, en facf, cureous. She’s feeleng her soaked chesf wefh her clean hand. Fhere’s no desgusf or accusafeon en my Lelsy! Only fascenafeon. Now she experemenfally pafs her smeleng moufh a few femes wefh fhaf moesfened hand. She rubs her soaked hand befween her legs as well. She seems pleased wefh the resufts. I--

Oh, bugger. Fhe quell es glefcheng. Enough already! (*)

The damn egocentric quill won’t leave the page. As soon as I siphoned my thickening juices out of it and the diary, it rushed to ink its corrections at the bottom of the page. It wouldn’t be dissuaded no matter how many times I pushed it away. What an egocentric cad. I had to wait until it was finished before I could write this paragraph.

After Lilsy’s reaction, I felt daring, and after gathering on the tip of my wand all the scattered bits of my still congealing jizz from my clothes and the rest of table, I poured it all over my Lilsy’s head. The little angel remained stationary throughout. She never even tried to evade the stream. She was smiling, wetly, the entire time!

It was only afterwards that I remembered to panic over the damage my potent juices could’ve caused Lilsy and, by extension, Lily. Thank Merlin I didn’t use watercolours to mark Lilsy’s features. The consequences are simply too horrid to contemplate. She’s not waterproof, however. Her skin is made out of muslin fabric. My semen, now, is integrated into her flesh. I have no idea what the consequences could be if I transfigure her back to her Lily-form with it still inside her. Would Lily become Lilirus? Long fingered, big nosed but with a freckled bosom?! Ugh. I want my Lily just as I remember her. No alterations! There could be other Lily-unpurities in her as well. My sweat, dust from the building, even loose threads and fuzz from my coat pocket. I’ll need to extract all of that before I undo the transfiguration. But not yet. Let my thick, semen juices rest within her for a while longer. There’s no rush.

=======

(*) Corrected version of the above passage:

[…] not completely missing this steadfast quill in the messy process! And my Lilsy! She’s covered all over with my jizz. She’s dripping! I’m such a dolt! All I had to do was fling my left hand to the side and Lilsy wouldn’t get messy! Lilsy grows still. Will she mind? She jumped off my palm. She sits down on the table near my hand. Surely a good sign? She doesn’t look upset. She doesn’t attempt, futilely, to clean herself up. She looks, in fact, curious. She’s feeling her soaked chest with her clean hand. There’s no disgust or accusation in my Lilsy! Only fascination. Now she experimentally pats her smiling mouth a few times with that moistened hand. She rubs her soaked hand between her legs as well. She seems pleased with the results. I--

Oh, bugger. The quill is glitching. Enough already!

Author’s Notes: Thank you, DinaTheCat. Reanimation holds very strange dangers though we haven’t reached that point yet.

I intended to include the entire house renovations period in this chapter but it grew and grew as I worked on it and this seemed like a good stopping place. There’s not much remaining anyway. I will append what remains to the beginning of the next chapter.

Are Energizer sex-bunnies/dolls icky, cute, squee-worthy, hot or just weird? I didn’t plan for Lilsy when I began this story. It was fun, though. Hope you liked her and her interactions with Snapey. I’m willing to write Lilsy Outtakes if anyone requests it.
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Garden of Lilies