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
- 8
- 9
- 10
AN: I totally sympathize with having to wait between chapters; unfortunately, a week is about how long it takes me to write 10-15 pages of something worth reading in the amount of spare time I have. Sometimes, like today, I get an opportunity to work a little longer and get to post an extra little treat for you. Bon appetit!

9: When She Was Good, She was Very, Very Good

Harry hurried along behind Lucius, whose quick pace never abated. He seemed upset about something, and Harry wondered if he had somehow given offense. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done wrong, but he had an uneasy feeling that it wouldn’t take much to put one on the wrong side of that line.

The way looked vaguely familiar from their walk to the harem two days earlier, but Harry was surprised at how much the castle had physically altered in the relatively short time since he’d been a student here. He had no idea why Bella had seen fit to remove the countless portraits and paintings that had formerly populated the corridors, and wondered if perhaps Hogwarts herself had “absorbed” them, or put them away for safekeeping for the uncertain duration of Bella’s tenure as the castle’s chatelaine.

It was odd to move through the halls without seeing a single other person or even one of the Hogwarts ghosts. Harry wondered if the latter were still around or if Bella had somehow managed to get rid of them. On the one hand, it was rather nice to be able to walk the corridors without worrying that at any moment you’d run into Peeves and be pelted with chalk, inkpots, books, or other, more disgusting things. And Harry had to admit that if Moaning Myrtle was gone, he wouldn’t really miss her. But the Gray Lady, Sir Nicholas, and the Bloody Baron had been general favorites among the students, and he hoped they weren’t gone forever. Since all he had seen of the castle so far was the dungeons, the Great Hall, and the harem, he also wondered if the Fat Lady still guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. And what had become of the portraits of former Heads that had resided in Dumbledore’s office? If he understood correctly, Bella had taken that over as her own suite; he could imagine what the stern Heads would have had to say about that.

“Lu—Mr Malfoy?” he said tentatively. Lucius grunted but did not slow or turn around. Not exactly encouraging, but Harry continued. “Are the castle ghosts still around? I just wondered because...well...usually we’d have seen some of them by now, and...well, we haven’t.”

Lucius strode on and Harry had almost decided he wasn’t going to respond when Lucius stopped abruptly and whirled to face him. He hesitated, as if weighing his words. “If I were you,” he said finally, speaking very quietly so his voice wouldn’t carry, “I would not mention the ghosts to Her Majesty. She banished them from the castle because they refused to acknowledge her as Queen. If you must know, they laughed at the very idea. Now, if you want this evening to go well—and by well I mean with you coming out of it with your hide intact—take my advice and don’t go talking about anything that’s going to get you in trouble.” His gaze flicked down to Harry’s crotch and his lips twitched. “What’s the matter, Potter—not feeling so excited all of a sudden?”

Harry looked down and saw that although his cock was still held in its outward position by the harness, it had shrunk and softened considerably, whether because of his brisk trot through the halls or the thought of Bella’s reaction should he make her angry, he didn’t know.

Lucius resumed walking and Harry saw that they were almost at the Great Hall; it was just around the next corner. When they were in sight of the Great Hall, he thought again how strange it seemed for its doors to be closed; in Hogwarts days they had normally stood open, and other than at meal times and special occasions, people wandered in and out as they pleased.

Now they walked past the doors. Lucius gave a short nod to the Death Eater on guard duty outside and the guard straightened and stiffly nodded back. A few feet further on Lucius came to a stop. There was a narrow doorway here leading to a shadowed space beyond that Harry didn’t remember. Lucius motioned for him to enter, and Harry walked into a space not much larger than a broom closet. Suddenly the floor itself was moving upward, carrying them with it as if they were in an elevator.

“Just like at the Ministry,” Harry said without thinking, and Lucius looked at him sharply, but Harry looked away and kept his mouth closed.

“Yes, well...the Queen doesn’t like stairs. So tiresome,” Lucius said, and he seemed to relax a bit. Harry thought he saw the hint of a smile but was sure he was seeing things. Lucius Malfoy, smiling—at him? Surely not.

They rose rapidly up to the seventh floor. When the “elevator” stopped moving Lucius indicated that Harry should get out. He found that this mode of ascent had allowed them to bypass the spiraling staircase: the moving floor led directly into Dumbledore’s office. Or, as Harry corrected himself, the Queen’s personal rooms.

He looked around with interest at the shelves along the walls that used to be overflowing with books of all descriptions. The books were gone; actually, nearly everything that had been in the room was gone. The grand cascade of rounded steps rose from the entry level to where Dumbledore’s magnificent claw-footed desk had always stood; but it was gone, and there was no sign of its having ever been there. Fawkes’ stand was also absent—and yes, Harry saw, the portraits of former Heads had all been removed. One would expect that the grime of past ages would cling to the walls, denoting where each frame had hung, but again it was as if they had never existed. Harry could well imagine what some of the sour-faced old Headmasters must have had to say about Bella’s ascendancy and hoped their portraits had been removed to some safe place where she couldn’t get her hands on them.

Lucius led Harry up the rounded steps to stand in the middle of the floor before the great arch. Then he went over to a giant hanging gong, the likes of which Harry had only ever seen in movies, and struck it heavily with a mallet hanging on a hook at the edge of the frame. He looked at Harry and there was that smirk again, just for a second, and then Lucius left the same way they had come.

Nothing seemed to be happening in response to the gong, so Harry let his gaze wander, examining the altered space. Just above the level where he stood was the observatory where Dumbledore—and doubtless many others before him—had studied the stars and planets and enjoyed the night sky, and the galleries another level up that had held still more books. But now all the equipment Dumbledore had spent so many hours pottering with was, like everything else, gone. Instead the observatory held only something that appeared to be a large table. Harry peered through the dim candlelight, trying to get a better look, and was shocked to see that the table actually appeared to be Dumbledore’s desk; but the four corners bore chains attached to...manacles? He swallowed and quickly directed his gaze elsewhere.

Below the observatory a short stairway descended to the Head’s cozy personal quarters where Harry had once sat in a rather squashy armchair and had tea with Dumbledore. The sitting room was no longer used as such, but was now little more than a large, mostly empty space. A plinth holding a very ugly vase stood below a mirror, and the floor was innocent of the inviting Persian rug that had formerly occupied it. Harry had never seen where the doors on either end of the little room went; he had always assumed Dumbledore’s bedroom lay beyond one of them, but he had never seen it.

A sudden movement above caught his eye and he looked up to see Bella standing in the gallery. She leaned on the railing to look down at him, her lush bosom pushing up until it threatened to spill out of the low-cut gown she wore. “Why, Harry, it’s you! Welcome, welcome!” she sang out, as if he was an unexpected guest. “Wait there, I’ll be right down.”

She wafted down the stairs in a swirl of diaphanous black gown, stopping just short of where he stood. “Oh, my. Hold still, now, and let me look at you.” She circled him slowly, stopping to look at him from every angle. But she didn’t just look. She trailed a hand across his belly, around to his back; slid it down to cup his buttocks and slipped it inside the gash in the trousers to give him a squeeze. She stood behind him with an ass cheek in each hand and purred. “Oh, Harry, you really are gorgeous. Bend over.” He did so, and with one taloned finger she traced the harness where it disappeared in the crack of his ass; Harry thought he might come right then and there. He heard her whisper, “Lovely.”

She urged him upright, and—they were nearly of a height—breathed into his ear, “I’m so glad you came to see me, Harry. I’ve been waiting for you. It’s so lonely here at night, you know.” She ran the tip of her tongue along the outer edge of his ear; he shuddered, and she laughed lightly. She looked down and saw that his cock was engorged and trembling. “Oh, Harry, you are going to be such fun!” she sighed. “You’re too easy, you really are.”

Harry sort of wished she’d do the ear thing again.

Bella took him by the hand. “Let’s have ourselves a nice relaxing evening, shall we, Harry? Just get to know each other a little.” As she spoke she was leading him up the stairs to the next level, the former observatory. He eyed the large table with its manacles with some trepidation—it was Dumbledore’s desk, he’d swear to it—but she waved her hand at it and said, “Oh, we won’t need that tonight." This seemed to imply that they might need it some other night, which was not at all reassuring.

One side of the observatory extended back a little way under the gallery above, and this was where Bella took Harry. It was quite cozy and warm; a nice fire was burning in the little fireplace, providing the only light in the room. Much of the floor space was taken up by a bed—a very large bed, covered in blankets and cushions. It looked pretty much like what it was: a luxurious playground.

Bella patted the quilts. “Come here, Harry.” Gingerly he knelt on the bed. She ran her fingers over the straps of the harness where they crossed his chest. “Very nice,” she murmured. “But I want to see all of you. Take it off, Harry—yes, the trousers too. They bring out the color of your eyes...such a lovely shade.” She was all compliments, smiles, soft hands, and longing looks.

As he removed the harness and then the trousers, Harry began to think this might not be so bad after all—well, except for the being-a-slave thing. And the enema bit, that wasn’t so great. But there was a part of his brain, from which he could not escape, that was quite looking forward to the sex-play with Bella that lay ahead. She seemed eminently normal at the moment—and he had to admit she was pretty hot, when she wasn’t acting all crazy and trying to kill people. Maybe she wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. Hadn’t Dumbledore always said you had to give people a chance?

While his mind was wandering, Bella grasped his cock and quickly slipped something onto it. It took Harry a minute to realize that she’d put a strange leather ring around his cock and balls. He frowned. What was that for? Bella saw the frown and smirked.

“We don’t want things to be over with before we’ve properly begun,” she said. “Some other time I’ll let you show me how often you can recover in an evening, but not tonight.” In a lightning-quick change of mood, she was suddenly haughty and spoke sharply, as if he had had the temerity to protest. “After all, let’s not forget who’s the Queen around here, and who’s the slave.” Harry shook his head mutely, and she wagged her finger at him. “Say ‘No, my Queen’,” she coached.

“No, my Queen,” he repeated obediently, and her sunny smile broke out again.

“Very good. Always mind your manners, Harry. That cock-ring is a bit on the loose side now—” it was? Harry didn’t think even something as thin as a piece of paper could fit between the leather and his cock— “but if you don’t behave, I shall have to tighten it—like so.” She waved her hand and the cock-ring tightened noticeably. Painfully, even. Very painfully. Harry gasped and gritted his teeth but said nothing, and Bella waved again to return it to its original level of constriction, satisfied that she had made her point.

“Now, Harry. You’ve assured me that you’re a virgin—but I’m not perfectly sure what that means, in your case. If you are to be my bed-slave, there are certain things you need to know in order to please me. If you don’t know them, you must be taught. I suppose,” she said with a put-upon air, “I will have to be the one to teach you so you’ll do things exactly the way I like them. Do you know how to please a woman, Harry?” When he looked uncertain, she grew impatient. “Yes or no? It’s a simple question. Do—you—know—how—to please—a woman?”

“I guess not,” Harry said as truthfully as he could. Please a woman how? he wondered. Ginny had always seemed to like it when he touched her. Since Fred and George had more or less warned him to behave himself around their sister, Harry’s hands had never strayed below her waist; but he’d played with her breasts on occasion, and judging by the noises she made she had enjoyed it. And despite the debacle with Cho Chang, Ginny and one or two others had told him he was a good kisser. Somehow, though, he thought Bella wasn’t referring to anything so innocent.

“You guess not.” The cock-ring snugged up just a smidge. “I suppose I’ll have to take that as a no. Pity; you’re so lovely to look at—you really ought to have talents to match. But perhaps you have untapped abilities, Harry. Let’s start with the basics.”

She moved up to the edge of the bed and said, “Kiss me.” She pouted her lips invitingly and looked at Harry, waiting. He knelt at the edge of the bed and leaned his head forward, arms at his sides since he wasn’t sure whether or not he was allowed to touch her and was trying to err on the side of “good behavior"; he was also afraid he would smear pre-cum all over her gown if his cock touched it. Bella, apparently in a perverse mood, moved a few inches backward. His lips ended up barely brushing hers, as a result, and he had to catch himself quickly in order to not fall on his face.

“Ah, Harry...you can do better than that, surely. Why are you so afraid to touch me?” she asked.

“I—I wasn’t sure I was allowed to.” To himself he thought, Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

“I really don’t see how we’re to get anything done if you won’t touch me,” she said a bit petulantly. “Try it again.”

She moved closer again and Harry took her by the shoulders and gave her his best kiss. Her mouth opened under his, and he tried to remember everything Ginny had told him when they were first experimenting—what she liked, what she didn’t—really giving it his all. Bella responded in kind. When Harry finally broke it off, breathing heavily and painfully aroused, he stared at her anxiously, awaiting her verdict. Which was,

“Very good, Harry. Now shall we try it again, with a little more touching? You have hands, boy—for Merlin’s sake, use them!” Without waiting for him to take the initiative, she flung her arms around him and cupped his ass with both hands, and pulled him closer until their pelvises were all but welded together. She alternately squeezed his cheeks and ran her hands up and down his back, and finally Harry’s hands began doing some wandering of their own.

He found that Bella’s breasts were every bit as lush as they had appeared when she was hanging them over the gallery railing, soft but firm with large nipples that turned into stiff peaks when he rolled them gently between his thumb and forefinger. The thin fabric of her gown was no impediment.

Bella groaned, which he took to mean she was agreeable, and he got a little bolder. He slid his hand down her belly and over to the side to caress the indentation where waist met hip. Then lower...and he felt bare skin. Apparently, although it wasn’t obvious because of all the floaty layers that made up the skirt, her gown was open from the waist all the way to the floor. Harry slipped his hand inside and caressed the soft skin of Bella’s ass, and then he couldn’t resist coming back around to the front and dipping his fingers daringly between her slightly parted legs. Her thatch of black hair was as fine and soft as down, and just before she broke off the kiss he felt—he felt—oh gods, she was wet! For him! He was shocked, thrilled, appalled, and titillated in equal measures.

Bella drew back a little to look at him. Even she had been affected by the kiss, as Harry could see. Maybe it was because Harry was so young, so unsure of himself as yet, and was allowing her to lead; or because he was, sexually, an unknown quantity as yet. Maybe it was simply because he wasn’t Rodolphus or Voldemort, or any of the men they had forced on her, Rodolphus in order to advance his position socially and financially and Voldemort as a reward to loyal Death Eaters for services rendered. (He considered all of his followers’ possessions, including their wives, his for the taking.)

Maybe it was because Harry was “just Harry” and she would have given anything to be “just Bella” again, desired by this boy who was so good, so pure, so...nice. So unlike everyone else she knew.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t that at all.

However affected she’d been by Harry’s kiss, Bella saw that he was even more so, and she was not above pursuing her advantage.

“I want you,” she murmured, and she pulled him close again. Her tongue was suddenly everywhere—in his ear (oh, yesssss!), his mouth, his jaw, his neck—and she played with his nipples as he had hers, with similar effect. Harry had never realized that the male nipple was an erogenous zone; but how different it felt when it was someone else’s hand brushing against it, or tweaking with deliberate intent!

“Harry, Harry,” Bella groaned, rubbing her breasts against his sensitized nipples. “Do you want me? I think I’ll die if you don’t.” She watched him from beneath half-closed eyelids and was gratified to see that it didn’t apparently matter if a handful of days ago they had been foes on a battlefield, with the loser enslaved by the victor and made to do her bidding—men were so predictable, as long as you said the right things. She sometimes wondered if she could make a man’s cock rise even as she was subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, as long as she said the right things. She was pretty sure she could.

Harry was no different than any other man when it came to what he wanted, even if he was unpracticed in asking for it. He was practically sobbing, he so badly needed to come. “Gods, yes, I want you!” he panted.

“Take me with your mouth,” Bella said, and she joined him on the bed and pulled him down for a kiss. “I want you to go down on me.”

Harry halted, a little perplexed. He had never experienced oral sex, either giving or receiving, and wasn’t sure how to proceed. He knew in theory what was what, and where to put it, but he had no idea whether she’d think he was any good or not. But in the first place he was dying to try it, and in the second place, the Queen had commanded it, and he was her slave—so who was he to argue?

He collapsed onto his stomach and lowered his head to Bella’s crotch, but before his tongue could touch down she grabbed his hair and yanked his head up. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Well, Harry thought it was obvious, but— “Going...down on you?” he said, a distinct inquiry.

Bella tsk’d. “What—no preliminaries? I’m not worth the time? You have somewhere to be, perhaps—what?” When Harry just looked puzzled, she made an impatient sound and said, “You’re a bright boy, Harry, I have it on good authority. Just—use your imagination, and do better.”

Harry thought for a moment. Well, okay. Girls liked to be touched a lot, he knew. He leaned up on an elbow and started to reach for her pussy with his hand, but Bella—who was tilting her head up to watch him—shook her head and raised one eyebrow in warning. Harry moved the hand down further, to her thigh, but her expression said she really didn’t have time for this if he was going to take all night about it, so he moved further down on the bed and took one dainty foot in his hand. He flicked his eyes up to her and she smiled smugly and settled down again.

Great. Now what? He rubbed and massaged her foot gently. Suddenly he remembered something he’d overheard Fred and George joking about, and he tentatively ran his tongue along the bottoms of her toes. There was a furtive shiver above, so he sucked her big toe into his mouth and swirled his tongue round and round, feeling the texture of the loops and whorls on the pad of her toe, the smooth hardness of her toenail. She gave a great jerk suddenly and he glanced up to see that she was clutching the blankets tightly in both hands. He took a chance and reached up to run one finger lightly up the crack of her pussy so it only just glanced off her clitoris, and at the same time he gently bit her toe.

Bella all but screamed, and her legs stiffened and shook as she climaxed.

Harry stared at her in wonder. Since she seemed to be a bit out of it at the moment he headed back up toward his ultimate, irresistible goal, caressing her legs and placing little kisses along the inside of her thighs as he went. The scent of her pussy kept wafting to his nose, making his cock throb excruciatingly. In his eagerness he made one long, deliberate swipe with his tongue, from her anus up to her clit. She was panting and moaning, and her legs trembled. Harry sucked her clit into his mouth and sucked gently, running his tongue over the little fleshy knob as he had with her toe. Bella made a low, fierce noise that quickly grew into a long, groaning roar, and she clamped her legs around Harry’s head as she came for the second time.

Harry, thinking this was quite amazing, and more enthused than ever since what he was doing seemed to be pleasing Bella, continued to suck and tongue her clit, with occasional brief forays down to her slit to taste her warm nectar; what felt like an absolute river of female juices was running down his chin and neck, making everything warm and sticky and delightfully perfumed with the smell of her sex. Thoughts of the words “multiple orgasms” winged through his mind, remembered from copies of Playwizard magazine that Ron, during his tenure as Prefect, had confiscated from the odd student caught engaging in furtive one-man sessions here and there around the school.

But what Harry didn’t understand was that you can have too much of a good thing. Bella’s legs clamped more and more tightly over his ears, but she was so lost amid her nonstop climax that she was unable to speak coherently. Harry merely thought she liked what he was doing—liked it a lot—and that she was concentrating on the feelings, enjoying herself. When her legs finally sagged and fell open and she stopped making noise of any kind, he gave her clit a last gentle lick and raised his head...

...to find Bella lying there with her eyes closed and not breathing!

Harry’s first reaction was terror: he had killed the Queen! Lucius would see him in Azkaban for this, at the very least—no, it would probably be the Killing Curse. Maybe a spot of torture first: nothing too extreme for the slave who killed the Queen, right?

Harry froze, unsure what to do. Then he quickly wiggled backward until his legs hung off the end of the bed, and stood up. Unmindful of his naked state or his cock which, still firmly gripped by the cock ring, was flamboyantly erect, he dashed for the elevator shaft, knowing he couldn’t stay with the dead Queen. He knew he couldn’t just not tell anyone. They’d find him eventually.

In a panic he dashed down the metal staircase and the graceful rounded steps and leaped into the elevator, which immediately began to descend. When it stopped at the first floor, he tentatively stuck his head out into the corridor, wondering how to summon help.

As luck would have it, Lucius was just leaving the Great Hall with a group of Death Eaters. They turned to go in the opposite direction from Harry, but some instinct made Lucius look back. His startled eyes beheld a naked, wild-eyed Harry beckoning to him from the elevator. Lucius smoothly excused himself on the pretext of a forgotten errand and unhurriedly made his way over to the elevator.

“What on earth are you doing down here?” he hissed as he stepped inside. “The Queen surely can’t be done with you yet. Did you leave her without permission?” He looked appalled. The floor beneath their feet began to rise again.

Harry hastened to set the record straight. “No! Well—sort of. I mean, I had to come find you because she was screaming, and then she stopped breathing, and I think—I think she’s—”

Lucius took Harry’s arm in a vise-like grip. “What do you mean, boy? Speak up, quickly! What have you done?”

“I think I killed her!” Harry burst out hysterically. Tears came to his eyes. “I never meant to. I thought she liked what I was doing! I swear, it seemed like she was really—into it,” he finished lamely. Lucius got a strange expression on his face, a combination of amusement, worry, and something else Harry didn’t recognize.

The elevator arrived back at Bella’s suite and they disembarked. Lucius gave Harry a terse “Stay right here” and ran up to the observatory, taking the stairs two at a time. Harry waited anxiously, his imagination vividly running and re-running graphic pictures of all the horrible things Lucius and the other Death Eaters would undoubtedly do to him for killing their beloved Queen Bella. He registered absently that his cock was still throbbing, but it wasn’t as painful as the thought of the agonizing torture that was surely imminent—that is, if they didn’t just kill him outright.

In moments Lucius came back down the stairs with a grave look on his face. He came over to Harry and stood before him with arms crossed and a forbidding expression. “Now, Harry,” he began, “you must tell me exactly what happened. Start at the beginning, and leave out no detail, no matter how insignificant it might seem to you.” He listened attentively as Harry, blushing and hesitant, gave a recitation of the evening’s activities thus far. He couldn’t quite meet Lucius’ eyes during most of the retelling, but perhaps that was just as well because Lucius was having a terribly hard time keeping a straight face; he kept having to cover his mouth and squeeze his eyes shut, and his shoulders were shaking. Every once in a while his eyes darted to Harry’s impressive erection, which despite Harry’s distress had not abated.

Finally Harry stumbled to a halt. “Wh-what’s going to happen to me?” he asked fearfully.

Lucius looked at him, and finally he relented. “Harry, you’ve learned an important lesson tonight,” he said. “Remember when the Queen clamped her legs around your head quite hard and was thrashing about?” Harry nodded. Lucius chuckled. “She was trying to tell you to stop, Harry. She’d had enough for the time being, and she needed to recover. Instead you went at it even harder, and the I think the nonstop climax was just too much for her.”

Harry gaped at him. “You mean I ate the Queen to death?” He looked stunned.

Now Lucius laughed outright. “No, and don’t you go telling anyone that, either. She’s not dead, you little idiot.” Harry’s head whipped up: was Lucius toying with him? But it seemed not. “She just passed out,” Lucius said. “She’s fast asleep now; and if I know B—the Queen, she won’t like having her rest disturbed. I’ll take you back to the harem now, and I’ll smooth things over with her in the morning. You’re not to worry. But next time, Harry, for Merlin’s sake—pay attention to what’s going on around you, and don’t be afraid to stop now and again to see how things are progressing!”

Harry felt limp with relief—well, most of him did, at any rate. So she wasn’t dead! Wait—if Bella still lived...and he would have to come back at some point...how would that go? Was she feeling humiliated? Would she seek revenge? He shuddered. Suddenly the thought of a nice, quick Killing Curse seemed like it would almost be a relief.

“Come,” Lucius said, and he hustled Harry back into the elevator. “Let’s get you back to the harem. I still have things to do tonight. I wasn’t planning to come for you for another three or four hours, at least!”

Harry wasn’t sure whether that was a dig at his lack of prowess or just a statement of fact, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t killed the Queen! He could have danced for joy. He was actually almost looking forward to the next morning when the other boys would all be waiting to hear what had happened. He considered what he would tell them, imagined it all over again—the sights, the sounds, the exotic scent of Bella’s sex. He knew that the fact of the evening’s early end would probably come out, but he didn’t care. After all, he was alive to tell about it!

Lucius walked him through the silent stone corridors to the reception room. “I’ve told Arthur he needn’t—oh, you’re still up,” he said as Arthur, who had been reading by the pool and heard them talking, came in. “There was a little—incident. Harry will tell you all about it. The evening ended rather earlier than we expected, and I wanted to be sure he got back here in one piece. Wandering around the castle like that—” he indicated the still-excited state of Harry’s cock, and Arthur could only stare at the cock-ring— “is liable to attract unwanted attention from some of the Death Eaters.”

Belatedly, Arthur said, “Ah—oh, I see. Yes, well, thank you, Malfoy, for bringing him back. See you tomorrow.” Lucius nodded and hurried away.

Arthur said to Harry, “Why don’t you come into the main room for a while until you’re in a condition that’s—er—a bit more conducive to sleep? Do you want—would you like some help—erm—removing that? It looks rather painful.” They walked through into the pool room and he sat Harry down on the edge of the pool.

Harry said, “It doesn’t hurt exactly. It’s really starting to bug me, but I don’t know how to take it off.”

Arthur bent over and reached out, then glanced at Harry. “If you don’t mind...?” Harry shook his head, and Arthur lifted Harry’s cock to see that, as he’d thought, the cock-ring had a small snap on the underside. Typical of Bella to put it there, where Harry, who knew nothing about such toys, couldn’t see it and might not know to take it off without asking for help; yet another means of humiliating him, even if she wasn’t there to see it. He unsnapped it quickly and Harry’s cock, which had fully resurrected at Arthur’s touch, even though it had been as impersonal as he could make it, bounced excitedly. They both looked down at it and Arthur said, “I suppose perhaps you’d best go take care of that—” he gestured toward the loo— “and then get off to bed, Harry. You can have a bit of a lie-in tomorrow, if you like.” He looked around. “I say, you didn’t bring the outfit back. Was it ruined?”

Harry shook his head as he walked rapidly toward the loo. “Tell you about it tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder as he disappeared inside. Arthur chuckled. He would wait until tomorrow to hear the story with everyone else, but he was quite as eager as the boys to know what had taken place.

Harry, meantime, had taken himself in hand directly he was out of Arthur’s sight and within a very few seconds had wanked himself to fulfillment, coming with a groan that could not be contained but echoed off the stone walls of the little room. It was the most intense ejaculation he’d ever had, aided by a mental picture of Bella’s plump, pink pussy lips, and by the scent of her which lingered on his face and hands.

When he was done and his knees had quit shaking, he went back into the pool room where Arthur was waiting for him. “All right, Harry?” Arthur asked, his lips twitching in a knowing smile.

Harry gave him an answering wry grin. “I think I can sleep, anyway.” They walked into the sleeping quarters, and Harry fell onto his pallet thankfully. He had a lot to think about, and he didn’t want to waste a minute of dream time.
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Bella's Harem