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Chapter 27 - Pansy Parkinson (and Ciri and also Triss just a little)


Themes: Consensual, Big Dick Worship, Ahegao, Anal, NTR

Summary: Harry Potter has been the Head Auror at the Auror Office for nearly two decades now. He's done a lot in that time to reform Wizarding Britain's justice system. And sometimes he does a little something for himself as well, when a beautiful woman comes into his office looking for leniency for their husband or family member.

Chapter 27 - Pansy Parkinson (and Ciri and also Triss just a little)

Chapter 27 - Pansy Parkinson (and Ciri and also Triss just a little)
The New Year started off with quite the bang… literally. Waking up the morning after a rather extravagant party, Harry can’t help but smile as his cock is milked and squeezed by a tight, familiar cunt. His eyes open and he takes in the sight of a beautiful white-haired woman’s somewhat scarred back staring back at him.
Ciri looks over her shoulder as she continues to ride him reverse cowgirl-style, and a smile graces her lips as their eyes meet, her own green gaze filled with a smoky sort of lust. Harry smiles right back, and his hands quickly come up to find purchase right where her slim waist meets her feminine hips, gripping tightly at taut flesh, his fingers ghosting over toned abs as she moans at the touch.
“Good morning, Ciri.”
It was an amazing experience to wake up in the morning with a witch wrapped around your cock, especially after a night of partying and celebrating the New Year’s arrival. Harry could vouch for that and was happy to do so quite readily. However, waking up in the morning with a witch-ER wrapped around his cock on New Years Day was an entirely new experience for the wizard.
The female Witcher growls as she reaches back to plant her hands palm down on either side of him for support, before beginning to speed things up.
“Shut up and fuck me, Harry. I need this.”
Harry lifts an eyebrow at that. She’s certainly hornier than usual. Still, if that’s how she wants to talk to him… with a burst of magic and physical motion, the wizard, who HAD been laying back and letting Ciri control the pace, comes up off the bed. His hands slide from her hips up the length of her body, and while one settles on a shapely breast to grope and squeeze it, much to Ciri’s moaning satisfaction, the other moves to her throat, gripping just tightly enough to cut off said moan and tell her he’s taking control.
She doesn’t have any problem with that though, from the looks of things. Writhing like a bitch in heat, the female Witcher wiggles atop his cock and grinds her back against his chest, practically daring him to do it, to follow through on the unspoken ‘threat’. Not because she thinks he won’t or anything like that, but because she wants him to.
So, that’s exactly what Harry does. He fucks her, and he fucks her hard. Ciri’s moans soon turn to squeaks, which eventually become very un-ladylike squealing as he fucks her from below with powerful, deep, penetrating thrusts. He’s very much in control, no matter what the position, no matter how they go about things. As she tries her best to ride him reverse cowgirl, Harry is quickly overwhelming her, turning the riding into more of an uncontrollable bouncing that sees Ciri going up and down his pistoning prick far faster than she can handle.
And yet…
“Y-Yes! Just like that! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck MEEEEEE!!!”

Ciri certainly doesn’t mind it. She doesn’t mind being out of control, doesn’t mind being dominated and taken and used by the powerful wizard below her. She’s gotten quite used to it in fact, and Harry can tell that she’s very much in love with his cock, if not with him personally. Though, she is getting a little full of herself, isn’t she? Demanding things of him, rather than begging?
Abruptly, Harry stops and Ciri yelps as she’s left to fall the rest of the way down his massive cock, her pussy lips touching the base and his dick tip sliding easily into her womb past her battered down cervix. She hadn’t been doing this when he woke up, for a very specific reason… just like the rest of his lovely ladies, the female Witcher can’t quite get herself off of his massive meat rod when she’s fully impaled on it without his help.
… And with him actively working against her, his hand on her throat firm and unyielding and his hand on her tit mauling and rough, she’s not going ANYWHERE.
Harry tightens his grip on her breast, and Ciri moans wantonly, a whore for the pain as much as she is for the pleasure. Still, the message gets through her fevered brain, and she shudders in orgasmic bliss at the realization that she’s being denied more pleasure because she’s been a naughty, selfish little bitch.
Harry smiles, and plays with Ciri’s nipple even as his thumb strokes the hollow of her throat. Sensing that she’s on the right track, the white-haired young woman licks her lips.
“I… p-please, Master. Please use your worthless whore however you see fit. Please? I need it Master. I need t-to bounce up and down on your cock like the silly little slut I am, I need to know that my cunt is capable of wringing an orgasm from you, Master. Please, please, please…”
As she just descends into begging, Harry’s smile grows. He leans in close, and breathes in deep, even as Ciri tenses up and falls silent at the sudden proximity of his lips to her ear, awaiting his response.
“That’s more like it, pet.”

And then he starts to fuck her again, having put the uppity female Witcher in her place. The green-eyed warrior squeals like a bitch and is soon cumming her brains out, orgasming again and again, both from the feel of his cock pounding up into her womb over and over again, and at the casual way Harry had gotten her to debase and humiliate herself for his pleasure. She’s well and truly broken to his wants and desires at this point, and Harry likes to think he’s taught the young woman quite a lot. But that doesn’t mean he’s done.
The hand around Ciri’s throat comes down and he grabs both of her breasts now, mauling them as he also uses the grip to pull her fully back against his chest. A few more thrusts, and then he pulls her nipples out from her body at the same moment that he buries himself in her womb one last time, quite abruptly filling her with his seed.
The creampie and the nipple pulling are more than enough to see Ciri’s eyes rolling back in her head and her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she shakes and spasms her way through one last explosive orgasm as well, squealing and screaming and shrieking her ecstasy for all to hear. Harry holds her close and they both ride out the tidal waves of pleasure that are crashing over them. Him better than her of course, but that’s fine, that’s how it always is, how it always has been… and how it always will be.
In the afterglow, Harry finds himself laying back again, this time with Ciri curled into his side, her breasts pressed into one quadrant of his chest as she runs her fingers over the other side of his body. She stares at him almost… wistfully, and Harry doesn’t need to be the Head Auror to know something’s wrong. Reaching up, he laces his fingers through Ciri’s white locks and grips gently, directing her green-eyed gaze up to his face and lifting a single eyebrow in question.
Ciri bites her lower lip at that, averting her gaze for a moment longer before finally looking at him in the eye, seeming quite apologetic. He almost knows what she’s going to say before she even says it, with a look like that.
“I… I’ll have to leave soon. It’s almost time for me to depart from this world, or I’ll likely lead the Wild Hunt right to it. I don’t want that. I don’t want to bring that down on your heads.”
Harry pauses at that, considering all that Ciri has told him about her circumstances and what she’s dealing with. This is a woman who has traveled across planes of existence, seen wonders that he can only imagine, and fought creatures that he wishes he could test himself against. But for a large portion of her travels, she’s been running from something. From this… Wild Hunt.
From what she’s told him of them, he like to think he could beat them back. But at what cost? Who would be lost in the process, and what state would the Earth be left in afterwards?
“I know what you’re thinking Harry. But I can’t let you all risk yourselves for me. I have to go, I have to find my own way through this.”
She’s getting better at reading his face, heh. Or maybe he’s just getting more and more relaxed around her. He’s certainly let his guard down in a way that he hasn’t really for a lot of the other women who have graced his bed these past few years. Looking into Ciri’s bright green eyes, concern and determination filling her gaze, Harry can understand why. She’s like him, in a way. He’s never met anyone so thoroughly touched by fate and destiny as himself.
Pressing his lips together, Harry finally nods. He’s saddened by the need, but also understanding. He gets where Ciri is coming from and can acknowledge her way of thinking. After all, he did pretty much the exact same thing so many years ago when he was dealing with Voldemort once and for all. When the Dark Lord had control of everything, and it was up to just Harry and his friends to destroy the Horcruxes and end Voldemort’s reign once and for all.
“I understand, Ciri. I won’t try to force you to stay. I will miss you though…”
The answering smile from the female Witcher is wide and bright, her entire face lighting up in a rather amazing way. Perhaps Harry should have felt a bit dirty at how much he enjoyed that smile, given the girl was the same age as his daughter… but given the relationship he had with his daughter, the older wizard wasn’t all that worried about morals or what was right and wrong. Society could go hang, for all that he’d sworn to uphold it’s laws and what not. Of course, wizarding laws were very different from mundane laws, as was wizarding morality.
Regardless, there’s something Harry has been putting off, but now that Ciri has dropped this particular bombshell on him…
“First, however, there’s something I want to give you. A ‘farewell gift’, if you want to be specific.”
Ciri blinks at that and furrows her brow in confusion.
“You knew I was leaving?”
Harry chuckles and reaches up to brush his thumb across one of the beautiful woman’s cheeks.
“Well, I knew you would likely leave eventually, my dear. You’ve told me enough about yourself and your predicament, as well as those you love that I would never try to keep you at my side forever. If you chose to stay longer, then I would gladly have let you do so. I suppose I was putting off this particular… mm, present, until this finally came about. Now that your intentions to leave have been made clear, it’s time, don’t you think?”
Giggling lightly at that, Ciri just shrugs her shoulders, the bright wide smile still across her face.
“Well, I don’t know what it is, so I honestly couldn’t say. I am quite eager to find out that.”
Sliding his hand down Ciri’s back, he gives her firm, toned behind a quick squeeze that causes her to moan and wiggle against him all the harder.
“I’m sure you are, you little slut…”
His growled tone only seems to turn Ciri on even more, and they don’t actually get out of bed for quite sometime after that, putting off Harry’s ‘farewell gift’ for just a little while longer in order to engage in some more delicious morning sex on the first day of the New Year. That was okay though… the present Harry had in mind for Ciri wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
A couple hours later, after an early lunch, Harry leads Ciri deep into the DMLE. They pass by a few people, given that they enter the building through his office’s floo system, and Harry is sure to introduce Ciri as a visitor under his watch. As the Head Auror, he’s more than allowed to do that, so no one thinks twice of it. Though he catches both wizards and witches under his command giving Ciri second glances, their eyes lingering on her smoking countenance or that firm ass filling out those leather pants, or even the cleavage showed off by her partially open white top.
All in all, Ciri was going to be the talk of the Department for at least the day, but Harry isn’t surprised by that, not one bit. She is after all, absolutely gorgeous, and she carries herself with a strength that most could not lay claim to. The female Witcher’s confidence is well-earned, and her powers are nothing to scoff at, even if she is not as versatile as the witches and wizards of his world.
Regardless, they have a very specific destination to be heading to, and Harry leads her there, guiding Ciri from the DMLE’s offices downstairs to their jail cells. The young woman’s brow raises as they begin to travel into what is effectively a dungeon, but she keeps right behind him all the same, and Harry wouldn’t be surprised if she was up for some dungeon play.
But they’d done Naughty Criminal and Disciplinary Head Auror before, hell, they’d essentially started their relationship with that little game. No, chaining Ciri up and punishing her for ‘wrongdoings’ in one of the DMLE’s cells might have been fun, but it would have made for a rather poor farewell gift. What Harry had in mind was a magnitude more interesting. Coming to a certain locked door, Harry taps his wand at certain points on the walls, disabling some of the recording spells and wards that keep certain things from happening in the cell.
Then, he unlocks the door and swings it open, moving to the side with it and gesturing for Ciri to enter. Once she does, he closes and locks the cell door behind them, leaving them alone… with the room’s only other occupant.
“P-Potter! Should have known… what do you want?!”
A feminine voice comes from the far wall of the admittedly small cell, and Ciri looks at the witch chained up there curiously, glancing her over and then looking at Harry inquisitively. Harry, meanwhile, keeps his eyes on the prize, stepping up alongside the female Witcher but looking only at the prisoner as he half-smiles, half-sneers at her from a few feet away.
“Pansy. I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine. And one of your father’s victims.”
Here, Ciri’s eyes go slightly wide, but there’s still some confusion. Harry isn’t surprised, as far as she’s concerned, the female Witcher hasn’t been anyone’s ‘victim’ since she arrived in this world. Perhaps she thinks he’s making something up, and is just playing along… but no, in truth, by law, Ciri is indeed one of Lord Parkinson’s victims, by trickery and treachery, in his conspiracy to commit murder.
“Ciri… this is Pansy. Pansy Parkinson. You met her father shortly before meeting me. He tricked you into hunting one of our citizens.”
Now, the light of understanding fills those gorgeous green eyes. As Ciri makes a soft noise, Pansy snarls and pulls against her chains.
“The bitch was just a werewolf! And my father didn’t trick anyone! He told me as much, that wench sat down at his table and ASKED for a contract on the werewolf’s head! It was entrapment, through and through!”
Ciri is frowning now, but Harry is still in good humor as he chuckles and shakes his head from side to side.
“Pansy… Pansy, Pansy, Pansy. We’re not in a courtroom my dear. This isn’t a trial. You can stop with the faux outrage. Your true colors already shine through nice and bright. You’re scum, Pansy Parkinson… just like your father.”
“F-Fuck you!”
Harry just smiles, not deigning to give that a response as he looks to Ciri.
“Pansy here tried to break her father out of his cell in Azkaban just two days ago. Luckily, we no longer depend on unreliable jailors to make sure that the prisoners in that prison remain where they’re supposed to be. Pansy here was caught and she will now be tried for her own crimes. Unless… unless she wants to cut a deal with the Head Auror.”
Both women in the room pause at that, Ciri because she’s beginning to understand what her ‘present’ is and Pansy because Harry’s words catch her attention. As Ciri begins to smile and almost vibrate with anticipation, Pansy’s hesitant voice floats across the cell.
“What… what kind of deal? What do you want?”
Before he gets into that, Harry gives Pansy a glare that sees her shrinking back as the full weight of his stare hits her. She quickly amends her previous statement.
“H-Head Auror! What kind of deal are you offering, Head Auror Potter?”
Harry chuckles lightly at Pansy’s sudden respect and deference. She always was weak to strong men. Hell, she was weak to weak men as well. It all came down to power in the end, perceived or otherwise. Back in their school days, she’d thought Draco was the big bad man on campus, rather than seeing him as the little bitch he was and always would be. To be fair to Pansy, she was young at the time. Mistakes were understandable.
But her insistence on sticking by Draco’s side, despite the fact that he was never actually going to marry her in a million years, had seen to it that she never found a husband at all. She was a shrew, in the end, and despite having moderately good looks, her attitude and personality were both just plain rotten. Honestly, even Draco had been smart enough not to marry the witch.
Now here she was, two decades later, and because she’d never found any man to replace her father, she’d risked her own freedom to try to help him escape from Azkaban. It was good that she’d not succeeded, because if she had, heads would have rolled, and Harry would have been doing the chopping. After all, he and some others had been behind the reforms to Azkaban, all those years ago. So far, an actual prison system, ran by actual wizards and witches rather than fucking Dementors, was working wonders to keep those sent to the island prison under lock and key. He would make sure it stayed that way, even if he had to make an example of anyone who tried.
Still, as he’d mentioned before, Pansy did have moderately good looks. And he did want to give Ciri a farewell gift…
“You’ll agree to serve your penance right here, and right now. When all is said and done, we’ll revisit whether further punishment is required.”
Pansy tries to keep her features expressionless, but she doesn’t totally manage to hide her wariness, or her confusion.
“What does that even mean… Head Auror?”
Hastily tacking on his title, she’s clearly still trying to stay on his good side, now that she knows one exists. Smirking, Harry spreads his arms wide.
“Should I take that to mean you’re interested in spending less time in a cell right alongside your father, Pansy?”
She hesitates for a moment, but in the end, the witch wasn’t put into Slytherin for no reason. Although, but Crabbe and Goyle somehow got into Slytherin, so there really was no point in assuming everyone from that House was cunning. It seemed like ambition, even when combined with stupidity was more than enough to get you placed there as well.
“Y-Yes! I want to um, make a deal!”
With that said, Harry once again turns to Ciri. Ciri, who at this point, is ALL too ready to play around with her prize, knowing exactly what he’s going to say before he says it. Of course, he says it anyways, for Pansy’s benefit if nothing else.
“Well, Cirilla? I’m going to leave this in your capable hands. How should dear Pansy here pay her penance?”
Ciri’s hungry smile as Pansy turns her gaze to the white-haired woman causes the witch’s eyes to widen slightly, even as she stalks forward.
“W-What? Her? What… what are you going to do?”
The female Witcher doesn’t give Pansy a verbal response, but then, she doesn’t need to. Her next action ‘says’ all that needs to be said, as she reaches out, grabs two fistfuls of Pansy’s robes, and tears violently in either direction. The garment pulls apart with some ease, mostly thanks to the enchantment disabling wards in the cell. Normal magical clothing couldn’t be torn that easily, not when they were imbued with magics specifically designed to keep them intact longer.
But the prison cell disabled all enchantments to keep anyone from sneaking a spell in on their clothes that might let them escape. As such, the robes that Pansy are wearing rip quite easily, even as Pansy herself cries out at their loss and the sudden violence against her person. She writhes in her chains, trying to pull away from Ciri, but she’s stuck between the other woman and a wall, and there’s nowhere for her to go.
Ciri takes her time after the first tear, making sure that Pansy feels every bit as she rips the witch’s clothing off of her body, piece by piece, shredding it in some places, and just tearing it away and tossing it aside in large chunks of cloth in others. Pansy’s body is jarred and yanked and thrown this way and that throughout the process of being stripped down to nothing, but as stated before, there’s nothing she can do to stop it.
She even tries to beg Harry to intercede, though her attempt at speaking is cut off by a smack across her mouth by a sneering Ciri. In the end, she has to settle for staring at Harry with begging eyes, but he just watches with a wide smile on his face as Ciri has her fun with the other woman. Soon enough, Pansy is completely stripped naked, her bra and panties in multiple pieces along with the rest of her clothing all around her and Ciri.
Ciri, meanwhile, is clearly well-pleased with the results of her momentary violence. Still smiling hungrily at the now-shivering witch, Ciri reaches out and lightly rakes her nails across Pansy’s trembling body, before moving them down further to molest her ass and cunt, gripping at Pansy’s buttocks and flicking the witch’s clit.
Whines and whimpers, mewls and moans… these things fill the air, pushed out of Pansy’s reluctant lips time and time again as she tries to pull away from Ciri, but constantly finds herself with absolutely nowhere to go. Ciri meanwhile, is clearly having the time of her life. Harry is pleased to see that the white-haired young woman likes her present. He figured she would, but there was always a chance that she wouldn’t be quite vindictive enough to take out the crimes of the father on his daughter.
Pansy had dug that grave for herself though. If not for her attempt to free Lord Parkinson from his cell in Azkaban, it would likely have been impossible to arrange this. Oh, not necessarily impossible to take her and put her in a cell… but to get Ciri so involved in her sexual breaking and torture as she is now? That took something special… like Pansy’s stupidity rearing its ugly head.
Ciri gives Pansy’s cunt one last flick of her finger, and then she steps back and begins to strip down herself. Pansy shudders and orgasms shamefully from that final touch, squirting her pussy juices all over the floor of the cell. Then, she hangs there in her chains, panting heavily, her legs weak and trembling as she stares out through her bangs at the woman before her with fear and hatred warring across her features.
Ciri, meanwhile, never takes those smoky green eyes off of her prize. She does remove all of her clothing however, and once she does so, she reveals the toy currently buried to the hilt in her cunt. Pansy gets to watch as Ciri spreads her legs and then reaches down, pulling a massive, magical dildo from her dripping wet quim. Bringing it up, the white-haired Witcher idly slaps the vibrating, messy fake phallus against her own cheek as she gives Pansy a lewd, lecherous grin.
“Hmm. Decisions, decisions. What sort of punishment does a racist bitch like you deserve?”
Pansy lifts her head and presses every last inch of her body against the wall to which she’s chained. When Ciri takes a step forward, the witch’s eyes grow a little wild, and panicked as well.
“S-Stay away! Y-You filthy perverted freak! Stay away from m-MMPH! GAGKH!”
In the midst of Pansy’s tirade, which just so happens to leave her mouth wide open and nicely so at several points, Ciri closes the last foot of distance between the two of them and shoves the soiled dildo, covered in pussy juices as it is, right in between those pretty little lips. She bashes the sex toy against some teeth, maybe chipping one, but she doesn’t let that stop her as she all but jams the dildo into Pansy’s throat, forcing her to gag on the fake cock as she in turn forces Pansy to take the thing to its base.
And then she starts to move it up and down inside of Pansy’s mouth, which at the moment, along with the rest of her face, has been forcibly turned up towards the ceiling by Ciri’s grip on the magical dildo’s base. With Pansy’s neck fully exposed, Ciri leans in and kisses and sucks at the witch’s throat and neck, moaning and taking her pleasure from Pansy, and more specifically, from the vibrations that she can feel from the magical dildo, even through Pansy’s flesh.
“Hulghk… Hulghk… Hulghk…”
The resistance slowly dies down, even as Pansy continues to choke and gag on the massive phallus currently buried in her mouth and throat. Seeing this, Ciri slides her free hand down the length of her prisoner’s body, sticking her middle finger right inside of the witch’s shivering cunt. She pistons it back and forth a few times, before pulling it out and licking it clean, right in front of Pansy’s wide, panicked eyes.
Pulling back from her neck, Ciri gives Pansy a wicked grin, before looking over to Harry.
“I think next, the prisoner should see what she’s in for, Head Auror~”
Then, she bends down to take Pansy’s nipples into her mouth, one after the other, her free hand always groping and mauling the breast that isn’t currently being bit and licked and sucked at. Harry, meanwhile, standing off to the side amused, takes Ciri’s words under consideration and then steps forward, a wicked sort of smirk on his face as he positions himself behind the naked female Witcher.
He makes eye contact with Pansy at that point, and a single glance can tell that this is not what she was expecting. Still, he’ll be true to his word. So long as she’s a good little witch and doesn’t keep trying to make trouble, he’ll let her go after this. Of course, none of the witches he fucked ever got enough once he was done with them. She’d come crawling back in a sort of unending game of catch and release, and Harry would have his fun with her again and again.
For now, though, the wizard unveils his massive cock to Pansy’s horrified eyes and slaps it down onto Ciri’s backside with a meaty smack. The white-haired woman moans into her current target’s tit and eagerly shakes her ass back against his thick, long length, feeling the heat of her favorite object sitting on her cheeks. After a moment, Harry lets his cock slide down out of Ciri’s ass crack and up against her quivering slit… and then he slams in, causing the female Witcher to cry out and climax on the spot as he fills her hole with his massive meat rod.
It feels quite nice to warm himself up on her cunt before the main event, and Harry takes his time, enjoying himself. Oh, he doesn’t fuck Ciri slowly or anything like that… but he also doesn’t fuck her as hard as he could either. However, in the end, regardless of how toned and firm her ass is (though the holiday eating and comfortable living these past few weeks probably hadn’t done wonders for her toning) his relentless assault on her hole from behind still left her ass cheeks rippling like gelatin under Harry’s constant pounding.
Pansy could only watch on in terror at this, quite sure that Harry’s cock would never fit inside of her. Despite being a spinster, she was no virgin… but no man she’d ever been with before had a dick as big as the one currently ravaging her tormentor’s insides. She’d given her virginity to Draco back in fifth year, and he’d been positively tiny. None of her other flings over the years had ever amounted to much more than him either.
Of course, Harry didn’t know such things. He wasn’t aware of Pansy’s thoughts in that moment. All he knew for sure was that she was very clearly beside herself with fear, smart enough to know that she was next. Ciri, meanwhile, is growing weaker and weaker as the pleasure continually wracks her body. Slipping down from Pansy’s breasts, the female Witcher ends up between her legs, bent over at the waist and wrapping her arms around Pansy’s hips in order to bury her face in the witch’s cunt.
Nothing is holding the magical dildo in Pansy’s throat at this point, so its inevitably pushed back to her mouth… and yet, as it vibrates and writhes in between her lips, the Slytherin Witch doesn’t DARE spit it out, not with Harry’s emerald eyes staring into her own, even as he fucks the bent over woman between the two of them with powerful, nonstop thrusts, lasting far longer than she’s ever believed any wizard could.
Ciri’s cries reverberate through Pansy Parkinson’s cunt and up the length of her body, bringing her to a few reluctant orgasms of her own, until eventually the white-haired woman can’t seem to keep herself up any longer. Harry cums inside of her, and Ciri’s eyes roll up in her head as she orgasms explosively right along with him. By the end of this final release, Ciri is turned into a passed-out mess as she slumps down onto the floor at Pansy’s chained feet, and the monstrous cock that had been inside of the female Witcher slides out of her fucked silly body with a nice, slick pop.
It’s still as hard as it was the moment it went in though, even with what looks like a gallon of jizz pouring out of Ciri’s freshly fucked hole. Stepping over the passed out white-haired woman, Harry comes up to where Pansy trembles, back still against the wall. He reaches up and grasps the magical vibrating dildo still stretching her lips and pulls it the rest of the way out of her mouth, dropping it on Ciri’s unconscious body as she shivers and looks between his eyes and the cock inches from her body.
Smiling sardonically, Harry rubs the head of his member against her clit, much to her reluctant pleasure as she mewls pathetically. Then, he reaches out and wraps a hand around Pansy’s head, sliding his fingers through her hair and gripping tightly to force her to look him in the eye.
“You’d better hope Ciri’s tongue wettened you up, Pansy. Because I have no mercy left for you.”
And then he slams forward. All the beleaguered witch can really manage in response at that point is a gurgled shriek, and as she tries to stay conscious with Harry’s cock forcing his way up into her body, it’s becoming harder and harder. His tongue crashes against hers a moment later, and he kisses her like she’s never been kissed before.
In truth, that more than anything else is what likely begins to break Pansy Parkinson’s psyche. Her mind fractures in that moment, as the most affection she’s ever gotten during sex comes from the man who is effectively raping her chained, naked form up against the wall of a prison cell deep within the DMLE. Harry watches Pansy’s eyes flutter as his tongue dominates hers, the kiss domineering and controlling in the extreme. But they’re still making out. He’s still acknowledging her as more than just a hole to get his rocks off in.
Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s not also fucking the ever-living hell out of her. His cock rams up into her again and again, and Pansy shrieks and mewls and moans against his lips as her eyes roll back in her head over and over. The tempo at which he fucks her is even harder than the one he used on Ciri, and Pansy had been trying to prepare herself using that, using what she could feel of Harry’s thrusting into Ciri from behind as the white-haired young woman was pushed forward into her cunt.
This is more than that, and it’s overwhelming in the extreme. She’d been worried that he wouldn’t be able to fit, but that’s not proving much of a problem, because in the end, Harry is MAKING himself fit. His cock stretches Pansy nice and wide, and only her magical biology as a witch keeps her from tearing or suffering injury. She’s just elastic enough, and just wet enough from Ciri’s ministrations that she can take him all the way to the base and then some, as much as it still hurts to do so.
He rams against the entrance of her womb again and again, treating her like some sort of cock sleeve as he fucks her and kisses her and molests her. One hand is still in her hair, but the other is on her chest now, and if she thought Ciri was aggressive and cruel, Harry is monstrous. Perhaps some part of the female Witcher subconsciously held back because she had tits of her own and knew how much it could hurt to have them properly, roughly mauled.
But Harry has no such compunctions, and nothing holding him back as he ravishes Pansy’s body, as he outright RAVAGES it. He uses her and abuses her, and there’s no end to the onslaught, until finally, FINALLY he cums inside of her. Pansy has lost count of the number of orgasms he’s forced from her by the time he fills her womb with his seed, but she feels a moment of deep-seated relief when he finally creampies her pulverized cunt. It’s over now, right? It’s finally done…
Except, no. They’re just getting started. Harry pulls his cock out of Pansy’s freshly fucked, oozing cunt, and then spins her around and pushes her face first up against the wall. The magical chains binding her to the stone surface accommodate him because he IS the Head Auror, and Pansy is easily repositioned so that she’s faced away from him, her ass jutting out and her cheek pushed firmly into the cool stone as Harry leans in close, his cock not hot-dogging her butt cheeks, messy and slick and sticky with their combined juices.
His lips brush across her ear almost tenderly, and Pansy mewls. But that mewl quickly becomes a squeal when Harry lashes out and bites her earlobe roughly, gnawing on it for a moment before pulling away an inch and finally speaking.
“Did you think we were done, Pansy? Did you think you were in the clear? That’s… adorable.”
His finger presses down between her butt cheeks and against her asshole, and the witch very clearly hears the wizard say ‘Scourgify’ as a very clean feeling suddenly fills her back door. And then, his messy cock slides down, finds purchase with her sphincter… and begins to push in. Despite her age, Pansy never even thought this was an option. She was probably lucky that she gave it away to Draco when they were both young and he was an ignoramus when it came to sex, because if HE’D known it was an option, he would almost certainly have coerced her into giving him her anal virginity as well.
As it is, while Pansy was not a virgin in the conventional sense after all these years as an unmarried witch, she was still very much a virgin in the unconventional sense. Meaning that she’s never had a man so much as stick a finger up her back door before, let alone try to stuff the biggest cock of her life into her asshole. Pansy’s eyes go wide, and her screams fill the cell as she claws at the wall she’s pushed up against, sobbing and begging for mercy. The noise doesn’t leave the room though, and her words fall on deaf ears as Harry presses onward, inexorable in his march towards stuffing every last inch of his cock into her anus.
“Oh Merlin, oh Merlin! F-Fuck! Please, pull it out! It hurts, oh Merlin it HURTS! Please, please stop, d-don’t, I’ll do anything! Please, stop fucking my aaaasss!!!”
But Harry does nothing of the sort. He continues onward, making sure to move slowly enough not to cause Pansy any permanent sort of harm, but still as quickly as he can otherwise. He fits inch after inch of his massive meat rod into her tight bottom, stretching her anal passage out around his cock and holding onto her quivering, shaking, trembling ass cheeks in the process, using them for support as he spreads them wide apart and continues to bury himself inside of the witch.
As more and more of his length disappears past Pansy’s fat bubble butt, the witch’s words grow incomprehensible and unintelligible, until she’s speaking gibberish in between moans of pain and cries of agony. But eventually… eventually he’s inside of her, nice and deep, all the way in. He hilts himself in her bowels as he smacks into her ass cheeks, and then he remains there for a moment, letting her recover partially, but mostly just enjoying the extremely tight feel of her insides massaging his member.
Then, he pulls back. This process provokes its own sort of response from Pansy, a mixture of the same pained squeals from before but also some relieved sighs as his thick meaty shaft leaves the deeper parts of her asshole. Only, he doesn’t pull all the way out… and there’s no relief to be had when he SLAMS back in a moment later.
Pansy’s screams once again fill the jail cell as Harry settles in to fuck her asshole for real now, setting up a pace and taking her back door for his own, just as he’d just gotten done fucking Ciri and Pansy’s cunts, the both of them. He rails Pansy’s ass in much that same way and fucks her even through her cries and her pleas for him to stop, for him to slow down, for him to do ANYTHING but what he’s doing. He doesn’t listen. This isn’t just some walk in the park. This isn’t supposed to be FUN for her. This is penance. This is PUNISHMENT. The bitch has to learn.
With that in mind, one of Harry’s hands comes up off of Pansy’s quivering buttocks, and then he brings it back down right as he thrusts into her ass, smacking her cheek and then gripping it directly afterwards. Pansy squeals anew at the spanking, and Harry grins as he repeats the maneuver with his other hand and the opposite side of her ass.
That becomes part of the routine, as it were. Fucking her with deep strokes, Harry plays Pansy Parkinson’s big bubble butt like a pair of bongo drums, spanking her ass cheeks back and forth in between penetrating thrusts of his cock into her extremely tight bowels. And she really is quite tight, too… it’s not long before he’s in danger of cumming. Her back-door clings and squeezes and reflexively tightens around his shaft, rhythmically milking it for his load as he continues to fuck her, harder and harder, faster and faster.
In the end, he’s got further plans for her anyways, so he doesn’t try to hold back alone. With a grunt and a groan, Harry cums inside of the broken witch for the second time, filling her back door with just as much seed as he filled her cunt with. Only once he’s done doing so does he pull out of Pansy’s ravaged ass, finally allowing her a moment of respite.
Not that that moment lasts long. Even as Pansy slides down the wall of her cell, sinking to her knees and whimpering as she tries to duck away from him, Harry is reaching down to pick up the discarded magic dildo he’d left on Ciri’s unconscious form. Even now, the white-haired young woman is still passed out on the floor of the room, though to be fair, he’d given it to her nice and hard multiple times already today. She’d barely had a half hour between fucks to rest and recuperate before they were going at it again.

Regardless, when Harry brushes some of the hair out of Pansy’s face with the saliva-covered dildo, she flinches back from him, but ultimately looks up, fear and a slavish desire to make him happy so he would stop hurting her clear in her gaze.
“I want you to stuff this up your cunt, slut. Use it on yourself.”
Slowly, Pansy’s hand comes up and she takes the dildo from his grasp. It requires a loosening of her chains to do so, but as previously established, the magical chains responded to Harry’s authority as Head Auror. He was keyed into the building’s wards, that was how he was able to disable the recording magic on the cell in the first place.
Regardless, with the dildo in her hands, Pansy gingerly spreads her legs apart, still kneeling there before him, turned half-away, effectively perpendicular. It gives Harry a nice view as the witch stuffs the magic dildo up her creampied, tenderized cunt, whimpering all the while and biting back moans of pleasure that threatened to escape her lips.
Once she has the vibrating phallus buried inside of her, she starts pushing it back and forth, moving it in and out of her drooling quim, just as he’d ordered her to. Harry watches this happen for a little while, before eventually reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Pansy’s hair, tugging her head back in the process and causing her mouth to open in a quiet gasp of pain as her hands freeze up in their motions.
“… Did I tell you to stop, bitch?”
Whimpering, Pansy is quick to begin fucking herself with the magical dildo again. Harry smirks, and slaps his slab of man meat right down on her face in the meantime, smearing the mess of her juices, his cum, and even Ciri’s fluids all over Pansy’s features, rubbing it into her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, and smearing it across her lips. She whines and whimpers, but knows better than to try to tug away, especially with the ironclad grip that he has on her hair.
Eventually, as Pansy’s breathing becomes more and more uneven from the magical vibrating dildo, she’s pistoning in and out of herself, Harry slides his cock back and prods her lips with the tip. She opens up without him having to say another word, and this time she opens up wide enough that Harry’s cock doesn’t bang against her teeth in the same way the dildo did when Ciri forced it in. Slowly, inch by inch, Harry sinks his meaty member past Pansy’s lips and into the witch’s mouth. He watches as her eyes go wider and wider at his size, and he feels as her throat convulses around his shaft when he hits it and keeps going.
He starts to face fuck her almost immediately, but to the witch’s credit, she knows what she has to do to avoid things being worse for her. Even as he begins to fuck her throat with his cock, Pansy keeps on pistoning the dildo in and out of her cunt for him, masturbating with the sex toy, all while getting skull fucked.
“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”
“You get it now, don’t you?”
There’s a flash of confusion in Pansy’s eyes at his words, even as Harry smirks easily.
“Yeah, you get it. Power… is only worth chasing if the one who holds it can keep it. You’ve spent your entire life depending on those who you believed held power over you and others. Draco… your father. You should have defected long ago, Ms. Parkinson. Because I think you recognize who has the real power now, don’t you?”
Pansy’s eyes are wide as she stares up at him, but he can see the comprehension in her gaze all the same. Because they both know he’s right, as much as she might not want to admit it. Perhaps Pansy always scoffed at the idea of cozying up to a Gryffindor like him because she thought he was a fool who would never get anywhere in life.
But unfortunately for her, there was one thing she didn’t know about him. The Hat had wanted to put him into Slytherin. Chuckling darkly, Harry grips Pansy’s head with both hands, his eyes flashing as his smile twists into something distinctly unpleasant.
“Here it comes, Pansy. Take it all you little slut, and just maybe I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted. A man who won’t fail you like your pathetic father or that asswipe Malfoy.”

And then he REALLY begins to fuck Pansy’s throat.
The poor witch can barely handle it, and she eventually has to stop splitting her focus between his cock and sawing the dildo in and out of her cunt down below. The magical vibrating phallus buzzes away in her pussy but Pansy herself clutches at her legs with both hands in an effort to stop herself from instinctively trying to push him away. Meanwhile, her tongue does its best to continue sliding back and forth along his pistoning prick, even as he uses her throat like his own personal cock sleeve, even more so than when he’d fucked her cunt to begin with.
Grinning ferally down at her, Harry chuckles cruelly.
“Let me show you one more feature of that little toy buried in you.”
And then he begins to cum. His seed fills her throat, while the dildo releases its own payload for the first time that day right into her already creampied womb. At the sensation of being filled from both ends, Pansy’s eyes roll up in her head and she shakes and spasms her way through a mind-shattering orgasm. The experience nearly drowns the poor witch, both in pleasure and in cum, and as her entire world turns white, sweet oblivion finally reaches out to claim her.
Harry watches as Pansy passes out on his cock, pulling out of her throat and letting her slump back against the wall, still in chains. She’s also still breathing, so he doesn’t pay her any more mind as he instead focuses on Ciri, sighing down at the white-haired young woman. The female Witcher would be leaving soon now… and he would miss her more than he thought possible.
But such was life, in the end, and perhaps their paths would cross again one day. For the time being, he would have ways to remember her by, the idea of playing with Lavender and Pansy together crossing the wizard’s mind, even as he sets about cleaning things up and fixing up the jail cell. His ‘farewell present’ given, Ciri would probably gone by the end of the day. Or, judging by how she was STILL passed out… perhaps she’d leave on the morrow.
He’d push for that and spend a little bit more time giving the destiny-laden young woman the time of her life for just a little longer.
Making her way quickly through Novigrad under the cover of night, Triss Merigold knows she can’t be seen, not with how the city had turned against those who wielded magics in recent months. She’d had it good here too, but that just wasn’t the case anymore. Normally, she wouldn’t have left the hole she’d hidden herself in for anything, but this…
Well, at least she had a hood up, so her distinctive fiery red hair was hidden from prying eyes. Of course, if she were truly trying to avoid all attention, she would have worn a cowl that covered more than just her head and her upper back. As it is, Triss’ shapely ass draws more than a few eyes as she makes her way through Novigrad’s night life, the dimly lit streets doing a lot to hide her, but not everything.

Still, all sorceresses are a bit… vain. Triss, despite being younger than most of her contemporaries, is really no different in that regard. She has a beautiful body, and unlike that hunchback Yennefer, HERS is actually natural… mostly. Regardless, she’s gorgeous and she likes to show it. That’s not the point, that’s not the reason that she’s out and about at a time when her discovery and capture could very well lead to her being impaled on a stake and burned alive, as she’d seen done to countless friends and colleagues by this point.
There had been reports of a white-haired woman with green eyes appearing in the city. The reports had obviously been a little embellished, given the fact that they claimed this white-haired young woman was traveling from tavern to tavern, and brothel to brothel, leaving a trail of exhausted wenches and whores in her wake.
Triss had ignored the more salacious and crude elements of the rumors she’d been hearing, but there had been enough eye witness accounts of a young lady matching Ciri’s description flitting through Novigrad that Triss had no choice but to try to confirm her suspicions, even if it risked encountering the Witch Hunters and having to fight her way to freedom because of it.
Still, at least for now it seemed she was in the clear… hopefully. Coming to a stop outside of the Golden Sturgeon, Triss keeps her cowl over her head as she looks to the left and right, a cursory glance to see if she was being followed, before ultimately walking into the place. She keeps her hood up, even if it probably draws more attention than if she had pulled it down, but honestly, there would have been eyes on her entrance either way, and at least this way, all that the more inquisitive folk in the Sturgeon could say for sure was that they saw a hooded woman enter, not that they saw Triss Merigold herself.
Making her way over to the barkeep, Triss waits for him to finish what he’s doing and come over to her, not wanting to call out and draw any more attention to herself than there already was. People were already beginning to look away, thankfully, going back to their glasses or their conversations or whatever they were doing before she entered.
“What can I do ya for?”
Once the barkeep is nice and close, Triss slides a Crown, one thick gold coin, across the bar top to the man.
“I’m looking for a white-haired woman. Was told she’d be here… more in it for you if you can discretely direct me to where she’s staying.”
The Crown disappears into the barkeep’s hand faster than Triss can blink, and his other hand comes up surreptitiously enough and points to the staircase as he rests his arm on the bar.
“Room Four is what you’re looking for.”
Triss quickly slides two more Crowns towards the man and bows her head.
“Thank you for your time.”
And with that, she’s headed up the stairs, hood still in place. The moment she hits the top of the stairs, she feels it. Beneath her cowl, the red head’s eyes widen at the sensation of several wards and spells meant to keep unwanted, non-magical inquirers at bay. But Triss wasn’t accepted into the Lodge of Sorceresses on her good looks alone. No, being this gorgeous was simply an unspoken rule of thumb in the Lodge. You also had to know what the fuck you were doing where magic was concerned as well though.
Carefully, the beautiful red head spends the next several moments penetrating through the wards and warning spells without triggering a single one. It takes her some time, but once she’s done so, casting a small bit of magic to unlock the door to ‘Room Four’ is child’s play, and she slips inside without another glance back. Closing the door behind her, Triss doesn’t see the rest of the room for a moment, though she certainly hears it as a symphony of moans and strangled screams of pleasure greet her ears.
Turning around, Triss comes face to face with Cirilla, all grown up and in the flesh, and currently indulging in a very carnal act as she plunges an impossibly long and thick phallus into a near-catatonic barmaid. The barmaid, who honestly isn’t anything to right home about. Oh, she’s perfectly homely enough to be a barmaid, and she’d probably fine a man some day to make her his wife. Her hair is a dirty red, and her eyes are blue… but there are freckles all over her face, speckles of permanent dirt from her forehead all the way down to her chin.
This facial deformity doesn’t seem to be stopping Ciri though, and if anything, the young woman is having the time of her life putting the poor barmaid through her paces as she rails the girl from behind harder and harder, all while calling out to her over her cries and squeals and squeaks. Ciri laughs as she slams her hips into Bea from behind, again and again and again.
“Come on Bea, if you want what comes next, you have to stay conscious. Otherwise I’ll just paint your dress and back with the reward instead~ Is that really what you want?”
“P-Please Mistress Ciri, please show m-mercy. Oh, by the GODS!”
Triss can only stare, eyes wide, as the Barmaid begs for a reprieve and Ciri continues to fuck her from behind. Or so it seems. Triss is no stranger to sex, and no stranger to strange sex on top of that. At first glance, it looks like Cirilla has grown a cock of sorts and is using it to rail the poor barmaid as Bea tries to endure while on her hands and knees on the bed.
But that’s not quite it. From the glimpses of the phallus that’s plunging into Bea’s depths that Triss gets, it becomes clearer and clearer that it’s not a real cock, but instead some sort of… magical device that’s sticking out of Ciri’s cunt as the white-haired young woman uses it to fuck poor Bea’s brains out. She doesn’t get much chance to study it though, because the very next thing to happen is Ciri gripping Bea by her hair and pulling back as she lets out a vicious, victorious cry.
The magical sex toy, because what else can it really be at this point, seems to unload inside of Bea, if the orgasmic cries and mewling from the exhausted, sweaty barmaid are any indication. Her eyes roll back in her head, and she goes catatonic as Ciri leans in and dominates her mouth with her own, tongue ravishing Bea’s lips and more so.
However, Triss is fully unprepared for what she’s witnessing. Her inadvertent gasp as she takes in the scene before her brings Ciri out of her moment of revelry, and those familiar green eyes that Triss remembers so well whip around before widening in honest delight at the sight of her. Upon laying her gaze on the Sorceress, Ciri’s face lights up with joy, and she pushes Bea off of the magical sex toy still buried in HER quim like a used-up cock-sleeve, before slipping off the bed and beginning to pad towards Triss.
It feels more like she’s being advanced upon though, and yet… and yet, Triss can’t find it in herself to move, or take up arms against Ciri. She loves the girl like a little sister, and always has. This is… this is not how she expected their reunion, if they were ever going to have one, to go. By the time Triss collects herself, Ciri has her cornered up against a wall, far, far away from the door that she came in through. The magical phallus, which Triss can now say for certain is not a real cock, but still clearly enchanted to act like one, is pressing into her navel through her shirt and her leather pants, sending pleasurable vibes right into her clit and up her spine as she trembles in the face of Ciri’s unsatiated hunger and the clear lust in her eyes.
Licking her lips, the green-eyed girl leans in close, her voice husky when she finally speaks.
“Do you like the gift that my Master gave me, Triss? It’s the exact same size as his cock, same length, same shape… same everything. Except, ever since I left him behind, I’ve found it so hard to satisfy myself with it. Having tasted of the real thing, this fake just… doesn’t sate my lusts.”
Reaching up, Ciri traces a single finger from the stunned red head lips down to between the valley of her breasts.
“Mm, but maybe you can help me, Triss. And maybe, if you’re worthy, I’ll introduce you to that amazing man who’s become my world since we last saw each other. Wouldn’t you like that?”
This… this is not the Ciri she knew. And yet, as her hood is pulled back and her red locks are let free, as Ciri’s fingers deftly begin to work at Triss’ clothing, she can’t muster much in the way of a defense against the younger woman. When Ciri’s lips fall to Triss’ throat, the red head moans and arches her neck to give her more access. When Ciri’s hands begin to work at Triss’ belt, the Sorceress reaches down… and instead of pushing away, she helps her get her pants off as quickly as possible.
It’s not long before Ciri spins her about and pushes her face first into the wall, that fake cock of hers pulsating and throbbing almost realistically as it runs up and down Triss’ exposed, pale buttocks. And then she’s sliding it down further still, in between Triss’ thighs… and as the magical length disappears into Triss’ cunt, the first ‘cock’ she’s taken in far too long, the red head moans in ecstasy and her eyes flutter shut as she wonders briefly just how amazing the man Ciri speaks of must be, to be even better than THIS.
Ciri’s hands wrap around Triss from behind and begin to massage and knead her tits, and the Sorceress allows herself to melt into the younger woman’s ministrations, allows herself to be drawn into the sexual game, despite every shred of common sense she has in her head telling her to do otherwise, telling her to get away, to run.
She doesn’t, and not a single soul sees either Triss Merigold or the Barmaid Bea leave Room Four for quite a while after.


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