Jeans around her knees, familiar dread had Harriet frozen, from terrified eyes to bare slick slit. Being petrified while half-stripped in a public park probably wasn't the best idea. Just behind her, Dudley stopped, rapidly softening cock shrinking back into his pants as his blood ran cold. Meeting each other's terrified eyes, one beat passed.
Then they sprinted away.
Harriet nearly tripped, pulling up her jeans, but managed to put one foot in front of the other. While muggles couldn't see dementors, even Dudley knew when they were caught. Bonelessly falling, frost climbed over their collapsed bodies as spectators of everything that was simply wrong crawled through the air above them.
…Maybe all the errant thoughts that flitted through her mind during Harriet's mind were right… Because the teen had never felt so wet as when she summoned her patronus and banished the cloaked fuckers!
…Expelled.
That was the reward Harriet received for saving her cousin.
Expelled.
Harriet's wand would be broken for underage magic. Being a witch, the one thing Harry ever felt was truly hers, magic, was going to be ripped away.
EXPELLED.
If Harriet wasn't a witch, what was she? When you take away something's worth, then what was left? Why did this happen when all Harriet did was help someone!?!?
…Expelled.
…So it was over. While Dudley was rushed to the hospital, Harriet climbed into the shower, covered in a cold sweat, turned on the water, sank down and cried.
…
Dudley had been attacked! His precious boy had been assaulted by some prison guard wraith, and the one who saved him was… was the fr- girl. There wasn't much exaggeration to say Vernon was very conflicted.
On the one hand, it was no mystery that neither he nor his precious Petal ever wanted to have the GIRL in their normal home. That fragment of freakishness was a blight on their normal lives, but now… now she had saved their son!
With only Petal allowed to stay with Dudders overnight, Vernon parked in the driveway, got out, and walked straight down the road to the pub.
Two pints in, the overweight man reflected that they could have been better to the girl. At the time, it seemed so… reasonable. When freakish things started happening, they tried to get the girl to be normal! After the girl's own parents died from freakish things, it sounded like the right thing to do. Thinking back, the cupboard, the cooking, it was all too much.
Four pints in, Vernon admitted they should have just let the girl grow into whoever she was going to be. Who were they to deny who someone was? Hell, maybe their garden could have profited from some magic fingers!
Nine pints in, something occurred to Vernon. All that the girl got for saving his boy was punishment! Their freakish school was expelling her! They were just going to take and take! What could Vernon give the girl who saved his son? What did the girl do other than those freakish things?
… Vernon had noticed… things…
How could he not? Even precious Petal had started to notice the things Dudley had been doing. At first, Vernon had turned a blind eye, unsure what to think. Eventually, as it seemed like Dudley was in charge, he trusted the young boy's judgement. After all, if they were both just having harmless fun… Fun…
…There was something the girl enjoyed.
Harriet was wearing only a towel, hair still wet when her uncle burst into her room. The teen had been sitting on the edge of her bed for a while. The bedding was damp from water that had run down the near-nude girl while she just stared at the horrible wallpaper of her summer cell.
When Vernon stormed in, all Harriet expected was a beating. Punishment for some imagined slight, some misinterpreted malice.
Instead, red flushed lips smashed into Harriet's own. While fire whiskey had a place in Harriet's heart, butterbeer had been her bane when it came to smuggled alcohol for post-quidditch parties. The taste of her uncle's lips reminded her of the foul liquid. Although that revolution was admittedly overpowered by the fact HER UNCLE WAS SNOGGING HER FACE OFF!
Stunned, Harriet fell back onto her bed, towel coming undone to reveal her soft, teenage curves. The nude girl in Vernon's shadow reminded him of a younger version of his wife. Or maybe it could have been a young version of his sister-in-law; those perky, jiggling tits certainly reminded him of stumbling upon Lily, stark naked, while expecting to see his at-the-time girlfriend (he was bad at remembering which room was which sisters', sue him).
Either way, the image did much of the heavy lifting in sending blood to his pudgy prick as he fished it out of his trousers.
Pain blossomed between Harriet's thighs before her mind caught up to what had happened.
Another two bed-creaking thrusts crushed the gasping teen as she processed what was taken from her. Still, careless mashing of flesh ripped Harriet open more, tears in her eyes as her flesh parted for the walrus invading her.
Thinking the girl a whore, Vernon didn't notice his virgin theft as he rutted into the young girl's tight folds. Cunt was cunt, and whether it was his wife's or the witchy slut that his son played with, natural instincts had Vernon claiming Harriet DEEP. Hard slapping flesh echoed out as the older man used Harriet like a fleshlight, pounding into her pink pussy like he owned it, like he owned her.
Violated, every thrust felt like Harriet was torn open, forgetting how to speak as she was crushed and overwhelmed by the overweight breeding bull on top of her. This is what she was when magic was taken away. A whore for her family. A hole for them to ram their cocks into, to play with, to make scream.
Vernon didn't last long. Drunk as he was, turned on by cheating on his wife with the younger model, it didn't take long for Harriet's tight teenage twat to do what it was made for. Grunting, pinning Harriet beneath his fat belly, tits squishing into his mass, Vernon let loose.
Harriet's first time was a quick few pumps. No disappointing excited teen could compare to the devastation as thick splurges of sperm splattered into her violated cunt. Sacred sex desecrated, all Harriet could do was breathlessly lie there as her uncle unloaded days of backed-up jizz into her vulnerable depths.
Seed bubbled from Harriet's stuffed, stretched sex. Parts of her Harriet never knew existed were beaten and bruised, only for her raw depths to be plastered with slimy, adulterous seed. The older man's essence seeped deeper into Harriet than her uncle's brutal cock had violated. As cum oozed through the teen's cervix, what once was an iron rod defiling her shrank out of Harriet's tight folds, spent, letting virile goo bubble out of the uncorked whore.
While the walrus flopped over, basking in breeding a young, fertile female, all Harriet could do was lay there. Not even a minute had passed since her uncle had mounted her. Not even a minute had passed from when she was ripped open before the first man between the teen's legs was done using her. Trickling out from between her thighs, warm cum with droplets of red virtue stained Harriet's mattress as she stared at the ceiling. All Harriet could focus on was the pain pulsing from her core with every heartbeat.
Harriet must have fallen asleep at some point in the night; she awoke mounted by her sweaty, grunting uncle. Thick cock stretched open her tight pink folds, earning a whining mewl from Harriet with every bone-aching thrust, every stab into the teen's unwilling sex. Pinned under her uncle's fat rolls, bare tits squished against his man boobs, tears speckled Harriet's eyes.
There was no enjoyment. Maybe Harriet's body would betray her, start to biologically enjoy being thrust into like a piece of meat. For now, Harriet only felt pain. Harriet only felt shame as an incestuous, bulbous cockhead slapped against her cervix, sending white flashing through Harriet's eyes, feet adorably kicking and twitching. Desperately, the magicless whore started clenching around the thick cock, pounding into her slick sex. Harriet leaned into the sloppy lips molesting her mouth, wrapping her arms and legs around the walrus to pull it deeper inside her cock milking folds.
What could a small, half-schooled, nothing of a witch with a wand about to be snapped even do? The only thing that would help her friends was staying hidden, keep Tom looking, unfocussed. The only way to remain hidden was to stay with her… family. The only way to stay was to pay the price.
Harriet started moaning. Pretending that every soda can hammering of her abused cunt was satisfying. Welcoming the Walrus to use her, to breed her, to pin her under his fat belly and pump himself dry in her unprotected core.
"Do you like that?" Asked Vernon, grabbing his niece's ankles, pinning them above the girl's head, bending her in painful, unwanted ways.
"Yes." Harriet replied, bed creaking as she was taken harder and deeper, wet slaps echoing with every decent. Vernon couldn't tell she was lying. "Please-... M-More."
Groaning, planting himself balls deep inside his clenching niece, Vernon's back arched as he obliged. Genuinely, it sounded like a Walrus was ejaculating as Vernon's bulbous cock swelled and spurted blasts of virile goo straight into Harriet's battered cervix. Pinned, all Harriet could do was clench and mewl, milking her uncle to his end as he moaned out his mating song.
Feeling thick, sloshing sperm pooling in depths Harriet didn't know dangerously seeping through her fertile field was just another defilement to the teen. A spurt of white cum sploshed from her stretched sex as her uncle finally pulled out of his little cock sleeve. Slowly, more and more thick seeds trickled out of Harriet's throbbing, broken girlhood.
"...Thank you." Maybe the small, broken whisper was wrong, but what else was Harriet supposed to say?
"Thank you. For saving Dudders," replied Vernon, reaching over from where he was catching his breath to palm Harriet's perky titflesh, earning a soft, unwanted moan. "...Come on, I'll… make some breakfast."
Bed rocking as he pulled his weight off it, there was an awkward silence as the older man pulled on a dressing gown and waddled down the stairs. Harriet didn't dare take too long to follow, not even pulling on clothes, instead limping to the kitchen naked, cum still leaking down her smooth thighs from her deflowered sex. What would be the point of dressing up? Already she'd seen her uncle's cock start to throb to like as he groped her small tits; why put up a barrier for what they both knew would happen next?
This was her life now.
Vernon turned to drag his eyes up and down his niece's cock hardening nudity while he burnt bacon in a pan. For the briefest of moments, Harriet smiled. Never before had she seen Vernon cooking, and he was terrible at it. Limping to his side, Harriet started making something more edible to go with the blackened pig flesh.
In any other family, it may have been a cute, quiet moment. An uncle and niece, cooking together, adorable, but somewhat ruined when they were both mostly naked and pain still throbbed from between Harriet's thighs. Still, it was one of the times she actually almost felt like family to the Dursleys, even getting a one-armed hug. However, Vernon's hand was planted on the quidditch player's firm ass flesh.
When it came time to eat, there was only one seat available, with her uncle's reawakened cock lodged firmly where it belonged, Harriet's abused folds. Gasping, Harriet's lips quivered, painfully stretched sex singing as she struggled to lift her fork. For years, Harriet had been starved. Barely able to have a full meal left her a petite beauty, nowhere near her mother's full womanhood. Finally, her family had offered her lovingly cooked food, and she could hardly swallow it.
Behind Harriet, Vernon shovelled down his plateful, one arm curled around his niece. Occasionally a hand drifted up from Harriet's bulging stomach to squeeze the teen's perky breasts, all while his cock throbbed, kissing the entrance of her young womb.
There was no rush. Vernon willingly waited each time Harriet paused and shook, biting her lip with closed eyes, desperately trying to relax. Sloppy licks and kisses marked Harriet's neck now her uncle was done eating, another hand coming to pinch, twist, and pull her sensitive pink peaks.
Biting down mouthfuls slowly, Harriet cleared her plate while she was fondled and groped. Older, calloused hands carelessly roaming soft skin no one at Hogwarts had ever seen, land many a teen dreamed about defiled, with Harriet allowing every painful twist. Another throb of thick cock inside her teenage walls, precum smearing her pink folds, and Harriet scooped up another forkful of food.
Harriet knew what was on the menu. Grateful to the girl who saved his son, an easy rhythm of pinches, licks, cock pulsing hunger punctuated Vernon's patience as he waited for dessert. Both of them knew what was next on the menu. Slutty cocksheathe and older, incestuous stud, naked, linked, waiting. The anticipation slowed Harriet's chewing to a crawl, anxiously delaying no matter how much it extended the callus exploration of her soft skin.
Plates smashed the moment Harriet swallowed her last bite. Wood dug into her legs as she was bent over and ploughed like a common whore. Scraping sounded out as the table shifted with every brutal thrust, Harriet gripping the side as her cries joined boarish grunts and slapping flesh.
Trying not to focus on the rolling, tight folds massaging his pistoning cock, Vernon's eyes closed. Every second had the little minx's pretty pink pussy wrapping around him like warm velvet, coaxing his release like a professional pornstar. Pinning little Harriet's breasts flat on the table beneath her, each thrust came harder, faster, more flesh slappingly savage. Vernon had his pride; no matter how talented and experienced his darling niece was, he wanted her to cum first.
Harriet didn't want to cum. Not from this. All Harriet wanted was this to stop, not to enjoy her cunt being rammed, not enjoy the grunting stretching of her once virgin pussy by thick, rubbery walrus cock. No part of her wanted this, not the incestuous breeding, pumping of her sopping fertile slit.
…But Harriet didn't get what she wanted. Harriet didn't get to be a witch, didn't get to be normal, didn't get to own her own sweaty naked body. So when pressure started to build in her bones, pitiful resistance dragged on the minutes until all reason broke for the girl lived to be used. Light exploded behind Harriet's eyes, hoarse screams left her soft lips, legs kicked, arms spasmed and calamitous clenches milked her roaring uncle directly into her unprotected womb.
Pulling out, for a moment Vernon admired his white seed leaking from his niece's pink, twitching twat.
Unresponsive, Harriet heard her uncle say something, rub her hair affectionately, then stomp out. Maybe minutes later, the front door slammed. Harriet didn't move, naked and used, uncaring and on display. Who knows how long she laid on that table. It was long enough for the sun to move. It was long enough for the front door to open and slam again. Looking up, more panic ran cold in Harriet's blood.
What would Aunt Petunia do, witnessing the aftermath of the freak witch seducing her husband, still leaking his seed? Harriet expected a slap. Nude and defenceless, soon she'd be dragged by her hair into the street, humiliated, slut shamed, left for the next man to sink his dick into.
Gently, thin fingers found Harriet's hands and pulled her up, calmly leading her to… the bathroom? Petunia ran a warm bath, testing the water, surprisingly not wanting to scald the girl before helping Harriet to lower herself in.
Nerves shot, eyes red; all of it was too much. Surrounded by warm water, sweet scents, cooing, soothing sounds she didn't know Petunia's screeching voice could make… Harriet was nearly asleep in the water when a soft sponge glided across the girl's smooth skin. Maybe Petunia lingered too long on washing Harriet's perky chest or between her tantalising thighs. At this point, it was hard for Harriet to care.
Standing like a doll, Harriet didn't blink as she was towelled down, dressed up, led by the hand to… the car? The mall? Surely the other shoe had to drop? When was Petunia going to strip her and leave her to shamefully walk back through the shopping centre with her body on full display? Harriet was instead ushered into a changing room with armfuls of clothes.
There was nothing (overly) slutty; it was… clothes girls her age would wear… Was this what it was like to have a mum? Petunia told Harriet how pretty she looked, made sure she had suitable sizes, that everything fit the right way. Every now and then her aunt would disappear, coming back with new dresses, skirts, and accessories that she thought would look good on her.
…Harriet started to cry. Tears streamed down her face and gentle arms circled around the teen, holding her as she broke in the changing room. Rubbing her back slowly, it wasn't until Harriet ran out of tears that her aunt let go, going back to dressing her up like the daughter she apparently always wanted. The two even got food together! Eating in a somewhat awkward silence, they may have been the best chips Harriet had ever eaten. For once she was fed. For once she felt pretty, felt at home…
Lighter, when they returned, Petunia sat Harriet down in the older woman's room and did her makeup. Never before had even the girls at Hogwarts done her makeup, and now her aunt was teaching her, like a mother, how to be beautiful. Eye shadow, line, luscious lipstick, there was no stopping until Harriet's emerald eyes shone and natural features went from cute to sinful.
Then Petunia grabbed the bottom of Harriet's top and pulled it over the teen's head. Immediately, the day's reprieve died; ice was in her veins, all Harriet was, all she could be was that used whore bent over the dining room table.
Petunia undressed her doll before helping the teen into something Harriet hadn't seen the woman buy earlier.
If someone asked what Daphne Greengrass (the Slytherin slut) would wear for her suitor, Harriet would answer something more respectable than this. Black, lacey and crotchless, Harriet's new thong hid nothing, bra matching as it left her pink, shamefully hard nipples bare. Completing the look were thigh highs, arm warmers, a choker; it all fit perfectly; why wouldn't it with Petunia getting her sizes all day?
Dressed in her own nightwear, Petunia stood side by side with her niece as they presented themselves for who came into the bedroom. With Dudley home from the hospital, sedated and sleeping, there was no reason for the married couple not to share their bed again. Vernon walked in, nude, throbbing, striding forward as Harriet tried to shrink away, only for the marital bed to hit the back of her legs.
Harriet wasn't the homewrecker. No. Their whore niece was a marital aid, something to spice up their stagnant sex life. Curled around Harriet's side was Petunia, whispering sweet slutty words to the grimacing teen while on top of her grunted uncle Vernon, hammering away at her sopping, stretched slit. There was no alcohol, just two consenting adults and one former witch whose opinion didn't matter. Harriet didn't even voice her objections, overwhelmed by screaming and forced moans.
The married couple rammed Harriet into a squirting, clenching climax, all the better to milk out her uncle's groaning load. It didn't stop when virile cum bubbled from Harriet's stuffed sex. Loyally Petunia reached down to stroke her husband back to hardness, even pulling Harriet up so the younger girl's lips could meet Vernon's cumslick cock. Petunia taught Harriet how her uncle liked his cock sucked, guiding the teen's lips along the thick member, even holding her head down to chokingly experience it.
Moments later, Harriet was on her hands and knees, breasts swinging, pink folds stretched all over again. Wet, slapping flesh rang out, occasionally joined by Harriet's cries when her aunt snuck a hand under her to pinch and pull the young girl's tender tits.
It must have been a while since Petunia put out because they didn't stop until her uncle was empty and he had so much thick cum to give. Never did the walrus gruntingly finish anywhere but Harriet's vulnerable core, milking out as many shots deep into the ovulating teen as he forced spasming orgasms from the ex-virgin. Sinking as deep as he could into Harriet's rippling folds, relishing in the teen's clenching core, a groaning Vernon would kiss his loving wife while cumming inside a younger, tighter woman.
Eventually they finished, sweaty, breathing deeply, two-thirds content. The happy family cuddled with Harriet trapped in the middle, uncle's cock still hard in her flooded garden while her aunt's breasts squished into her own.
Harriet didn't have a bed anymore. Sure, it still existed, but as Dudley recovered from his ordeal, it was apparent she was never using it again. No night went by without leaving the teen sore and leaking virile goo. No morning ended without a protein-packed breakfast shoved down Harriet's clenching throat or a screaming, shared shower for her to limp out of.
More often than not, Harriet didn't even bother with clothes anymore. When only family was there, she knew her role: sitting down to eat with a bulging belly as she wiggled on her uncle's lap or resting on the couch with her head between someone's legs.
By the time Dudley finally was well enough to get out of bed, opening his door to find his naked cousin, freshly cleaned and deliciously naked… Harriet gave up.
Grabbing Dudley by his shirt Harriet pulled him in, mashing her lips into his, kissing like a well-practiced whore… Finally, Harriet took charge. Step by step, Dudley was pushed back by his cousin's tits while her hands frantically undid his trousers.
Dudley seemed almost… reluctant? But Harriet didn't care; they both knew she wasn't going to be allowed a peaceful rest until she was filled with incestuous, salty seed. So, why was he hesitating? There was no hesitation when groping her, fingering her, throat fucking her!
When Dudley fell onto his bed, Harriet wasted no time yanking down his pants and jamming his hardening cock into her soft, rehearsed lips. Harriet didn't look at her cousin. With her eyes closed, all the former witch focused on was bobbing her mouth along Dudley's fatty cock meat, swirling her tongue in ways her aunt taught her boys liked.
"... F-... Harr-y…"
Briefly, a frown furrowed Harriet's brow, not wanting to hear whatever insults Dudley had for his slutty sex toy. So she took him a few inches deeper to shut him up. Harriet reached down to rub her naked sex, desperate to get at least a little wet before what was coming, hoping her body's natural reactions betrayed her like they always did.
Slurping loudly along Dudley's dick, it wouldn't be long now; Harriet would have to mount up. No doubt Aunt Petunia had been telling her precious Dudders what gift he was getting; already the woman had prepared Harriet for him, probably listening through the walls to make sure all went well while her husband's dick was a foot up her ass. Dudley would throw a tantrum if he only got to finish in his cousin's talented mouth rather than deep between her heavenly thighs.
Scrambling up, frantic strokes kept Dudley hard as Harriet tried to get ready, grimacing, jamming fingers between her legs. Harriet lined up their incestuous sexes. Gritting her teeth, white flashed through the teen's eyes as she pushed down, tight lower lips refusing to stretch open for even the tip of her cousin's throbbing cock.
Suddenly, the world span. Breasts jiggling, wide eyes finally looked at Dudley as he loomed above the small nude girl. Soft eyes met emerald pinpricks, strong arms holding the heavy boy above, holding him back from crushing the poor whore.
Harriet didn't want it.
Wrapping her legs around her cousin's hips, strong legs, quidditch muscles pulled, finally stretching Harriet's young pussy wide. Harsh cries left Harriet's hoarse throat, brutal hardness battering open her depths, back arching. Still, Dudley didn't move. Harriet could see her clenching cunt affecting him, making his face scrunch as he resisted the urge to take her. Why did he resist?
"Fuck me." Stated Harriet, knowing she had to slowly explain things to Dudley, but he didn't move. Pinned beneath him, struggling hip rolls did nothing, keeping Dudley lodged where he was, so Harriet grabbed her cousin by the shirt, pulling him in. "FUCK ME!"
Petunia was probably creaming herself through the wall hearing Harriet's demand. Vernon was probably grinning proudly, spanking his wife's fat ass in celebration. Dudley… nodded, slowly dragging his thick meat from her hungry walls before pushing back in, rocking Harriet's body inside and out. Reaching down, pudgy fingers played with her clit, knowing the ways to make the recent virgin scream.
Harriet seethed.
"HARDER!" Ordered Harriet, pumping her hips, pushing with her legs, barely getting to more than a steady cunt fuck. "FUCK ME HARDER!"
Steady hands refused. Holding back for the first time in his pathetic life, Dudley angled himself, dragging his cockhead over every nerve he knew Harriet loved. Throbbing devotion kissed Harriet's cervix, sending a buzz through the former witch. A grasping hand moved up from Harriet's clit to her sensitive tits, laying thick logs on the heat building in her core.
"JUST FUCKING- …. FUCK-!"
Every thrust stretched Harriet's flat stomach. They were slow, deliberate pumps against each of Harriet's nerves. Where Vernon rammed her open, experienced cock breaking Harriet in as his new young mistress, this was something worse. This was the careful, nervous attempts of new lovers, treating Harriet like she was made of glass, making sure she would enjoy it, to put out again because she wanted it. Harriet wanted to wretch.
"STOP, FUCK- JUST, CUM INSIDE ME!" Begged Harriet, but Dudley kept plunging into her drenched depths, rolling her hard pink nipples between his fingers. "CUM IN ME! CUM IN ME!! CUM!!!"
…But Dudley didn't. Watching as tears built in Harriet's eyes, spasms build in her belly, toes curling... It didn't matter how much she begged for this to end. Finally, it did. Dudley felt unimaginable tightness envelop his cock, locking him in hard and deep, constricting him like a velvet python. Athletic legs kicked out uselessly as Harriet shook, siren song screaming through the wall, squirting up the walls.
Dudley's squirting arching cousin was too much, shattering Dudley's newfound resistance, draining his backed-up balls straight into her unprotected cervix. Nothing, not Harriet's cock melting mouth or soft pale thighs felt anything like this. Ripples of Harriet's tight folds were like a thousand soft hands coaxing out Dudley's very soul. More essence than the boy could hold spilled out into those demanding depths. Still, it didn't feel like enough.
For so long, Harriet was practise. Finding the shivering buttons across a girl, learning how to make girls like Charlotte shudder and moan. Then there was holding out inside her soft lips, torturous resistance to train himself not to bust immediately when Lizzy leaned down to blow him in the movie theatre. All of it was worth it… until now.
Being inside his cousin's climaxing cunt, giving himself so completely, experiencing all her pink petals had to give… There was nothing like it. Tantalising twitches sent groans through Dudley's bones, making him burst more in her sweet folds, painting the walls with his sticky, incestuous seed.
Harriet… blacked out.
When next the teen whore woke, she was cuddling into her cousin's fat warmth. Petunia had looked in at some point, dressing gown on with walrus cum running down her legs, cooing at the sight of her Duddiekins sleeping with his cock still inside their communal cunt.
Breakfast was eaten with thick cock stretching Harriet's flat stomach. Lunch made while standing on shaky legs, white leaking down smooth thighs. Dinner had a salty desert shoved down the teen's gagging, choking throat.
Clothes became an optional indulgence for the former witch. Only when guests milled around the normal house at 4 Privet Drive did tight outfits cover the salacious slut; never more than one layer and never enough to dissuade grasping hands from stealing hidden moments. More money drained from the family coffers as Petunia dressed up her little sex doll: dresses, makeup, lingerie, teaching the teen smouldering, hip rolling, decadent lessons.
Petunia remembered her sister through clear eyes after decades of willfully forgetting. Never before had Harriet not had to fight for her portion. Brushing her niece's hair, there was no way Petunia could deny her little girl such things. Tracing over Harriet's budding breasts, Petunia remembered Lily's teardrop tits, haunting even Vernon's dreams after he walked in on the redhead changing. Sinking her finger's between the teen's legs, watching her wriggle and gasp, how could Petunia deny Harriet growing beauty, echoing her sex-bomb slut sister?
It would be a crime.
And just think of all the dresses Harriet would be able to fill out!
So Petunia led her niece to her marital room with a smile, where her darling husband waited, throbbingly hard. Harriet got womb rammed on her hands and knees, tits swinging, white knuckle grip on her watching aunt's hands. This was Harriet's bed now, snuggled, leaking between a sweaty, spent husband and wife. Sometimes Dudley's arms held her, ironically gentler than when she was taken as a squealing, shaking bitch by the older couple. How long had it been since Harriet had even been in her own room, where her books, her wand, her witch life lay buried?
Harriet had her uncle's fertile jizz dripping down her leg when she picked up the mail days later. A trial. Harriet had a way out. A way back! So with indecent, lung-burning send-offs, a court full of dust old wizards raked their eyes over the skimpy, stumbling teen. Half of Hogwarts starred as the girl who lived started showing more skin, slutting up her makeup, and hardening more teen cocks than a playboy bunny. Even the pink toad couldn't smother the witch weekly whore who pushed out her chest and refused to silence her sinful red lips.
How many people joined Dumbledore's army just to stare at the teacher's tits? Or try to get under her skirt like their nightly, cock strangling fantasies? None got to slap that perfect quidditch player's ass, but they'd follow it into death eater hell!
…Then Sirius died.
Harriet got off the train without a word. In a secluded alley, paper crinkled as Vernon read through the sports section, paying no heed to the squeaking rocking of his car. Thrust after thrust stretched open Harriet's tight walls as her pink folds welcomed her cousin's thick cock like a true lover, coiling, constricting, climaxing.
Nothing changed. Filled with bursts of baby batter… nothing ever would.