Daphne's humiliation (short scene)

Hey guys. Chapter out tomorrow, just finishing it off, but in the meantime, here's a little scene with Daph.

___

Pansy had to wipe her grin off her face as she pulled her burning Galleon from her pocket. Harry wanted her.

The text on the reverse of the coin lit up, along the edge.

“Clean-up required. ROR.”

Pansy bit her lip. This was why the rest of the harem was calling her the ‘Jizz Janitor’. Harry had taken a liking to using her to clean his filthy wand up, along with whatever thick creamy load he’d deposited into his partner.

Pansy took a deep breath. The rest of the girls thought she was just a clean-up rag, but as usual, she was one step ahead of them.

She’d taken to her duties with aplomb, ensuring that she wiped every drop of Harry onto her mouth, her hair, her face, making sure he could see how much she loved it — and him.

And then, inevitably, by the time he was cleaned up, he was hard again…and now she had him alone, and completely to herself.

She smiled to herself and fluffed her short hair. A little reapplication of her lipstick, ensuring it was the sort that smeared messily, the way Harry liked, and it was time to go.

She couldn’t be late. She hurried up the stairs, trying not to seem to eager. Merlin, how pathetic it was, but even just the thought of kneeling between her man’s thighs, lapping up his dirty shaft…it made her heart light and her knickers wet.

There was a commotion on the narrow fifth floor stairs.

A gaggle of Beauxbatons girls were blocking the way and chattering excitedly.

Pansy frowned. These silly French airheads were going to make her late for Harry.

But then the crowd split, and she saw what had caught their attention.

Or who.

It was Daphne, climbing the stairs slowly, and she looked a million Galleons.

“Toujours si chic,” one of the girls muttered.

“C’est le détail.” Another muttered in admiration.

“Elle brille.” A short girl whispered.

Daphne preened with all the attention. She was put together nicely, her hair long and casually messy, but with a little princess braid above the ear to show everyone that she could do both. A gleaming gold snake bracelet around her wrist, a wedding ring to remind everyone that she was Lady Black, an expensive black satchel to accessorise. Even the stockings looked expensive.

Pansy scowled. The Beauxbatons lot didn’t admire any of the Hogwarts girls, catty comments and bitchy remarks, but of course they adored Princess Daphne.

“Excuse me,” Daphne said politely, and the girls practically sighed as she passed through them.

Pansy tried pressing herself against the wall, but she couldn’t hide.

Daphne paused for a second as she passed, smirking. “Enjoy the clean-up — I hope my ass tastes good.”

Pansy choked.

Her wand trembled with rage.

She shouldn’t retaliate.

She’d get in trouble.

Daphne would go crying to Harry.

…but she couldn’t resist.

“Ventus.” The slightest breeze, but at this range, it was more than enough to waft Daphne’s miniskirt into the air and reveal what Pansy knew would be there.

The aftermath of Harry.

Spanked and bruised asscheeks. A glaze of seed, because Harry always pulled out for the last rope or two. And, the pièce de résistance, struggling to contain the load inside, the big emerald plug under the centimetre of wet satin thong.

The French girls gasped in shock, before breaking out into giggles and guffaws.

Daphne wrenched her fluttering skirt back down and glared over her shoulder. “I’ll get you for this!” Then she darted up the stairs, red-faced, holding her skirt down.

Pansy just grinned, as she kept moving. She had her lover to please, and now she knew what she was going to taste. Daphne’s bottom.

It didn’t matter, because she’d had something almost as sweet as Harry’s cream.

The taste of revenge.