Sexperio ch.5

He let out a feeble moan and nodded. Her hand slid over his hard, practically exposed cock. She made a satisfied sound as she realized how hard he was. "You just came, and I'm already so hot that you're hard again. Her smile was absolutely captivating. He felt enchanted, as if Daphne herself was using a book. He didn't care. "You want to cum for me, don't you? This whole thing turns you on."

She locked eyes with him. God, those eyes! So blue, so soft, so sexy, and full of devastating promises. "It's good that it turns you on." She continued to stroke him through his pants. "I just wanted to know. I love making men hard for me, making them do what I want. I'm fantastic at it. I could do it for a lifetime. Do you know how many gold coins I've received this year? Well over five figures, darling."

"Oh fuck."

He didn't know why that number turned him on so much, but it really did. Knowing that there were men all over England giving her money just because she was so beautiful and hot, knowing that she probably intended to get more money tonight for nothing more than being born - oh God!

It was so fucking perfect and sexy!

"I'll make you one of my special guys," she growled in his ear. "You can just give me a percentage of everything you earn for the rest of your life. Wouldn't you want that? A little less upfront... but more in the long run. And in return, I'll let you think about me while you fuck that beautiful librarian. Wouldn't you want that?"

"Y-yeah," he moaned, so close to cumming. "Oh God, Daphne..."

"She's sooo pretty... but everything you're going to think about when you're in that hot, tight pussy is me, right? You'll do that for me, darling?" "Y-yeah... yeah..."

"I see your gaze sometimes drifting to my legs, those boots are doing a good job, baby, I'll wear some tight high-heeled boots around school. How does that sound?"

He whimpered. He was gonna cum. His cock raised his shorts up, the head peeking out of the leg opening. "Leather," she whispered. "With five-inch heels. They're like a second skin."

Harry released a guttural groan, slumping helplessly. She casually sidestepped his spray, making her way to where he hit the carpet, piling up.

"Fuck," he moaned. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." She giggled sweetly and planted a small kiss on his cheek.

"Leather boots. Five-inch heels," she whispered in his ear. "Think about that next time you're jerking off, okay?" He nodded foolishly. It was hard for him to do otherwise now. Just the thought of her exquisite body wearing those kinds of heels... It was enough to fuel his desires. It was enough to get him hard again. The clarity of thought that usually accompanied an orgasm was nowhere to be found as he gazed at her divinely sculpted body gracefully heading towards the exit.

Clearly, he still wanted to dominate her. He wanted to take her, possess her, enchant her like any other hot woman he had encountered lately. Thinking about it, he grabbed his book from the room, just in case he somehow forgot that she was dead. Of course, she wasn't. Well...

Nevertheless, in some way, he was just completely infatuated with the fact that she had such control over him. He kept thinking about it in a loop, unable to explain it. As she approached the door and opened it, he felt himself rising again, thinking about her in those boots.

God, he desired her. She would beg for his cock when everything was said and done. She would beg to raise money for him, just as she did for herself.

That thought made him want to stroke his cock even more. He set the book aside, placing it on a small round table.

"Harry?" Fleur called out. "Could you come here?" He took a second to calm himself, taking deep breaths. He checked himself - no stains anywhere.

That was good. He could clean the carpet later. Or have one of his slaves do it. Maybe with their mouth. "Yeah," he called back. "Just a second."

Making sure his cock wasn't in a too excited state, he walked into the kitchen where Fleur stood by the door with her arms crossed. She stepped aside, allowing him to peek inside.

"Why is Tracey sitting in front of the fridge?"

Harry buried his face in his hands. He told her to chill. Of course.

Somehow, in his post-orgasmic haze, he managed to convince Fleur that Tracey was just having a little fun with her. She was his girlfriend, he explained.

"I'm his girlfriend," she sang repeatedly. "We go out to Hogsmeade together. Isn't that cool?"

Tracey was wearing a cheerful, backless summer dress, the top held up by a playful bow tied at the back of her neck. The bow was barely visible amidst the richness of her shiny, sexy chestnut hair, but Harry liked knowing it was there. That he could unwrap her like a gift at any moment.

Now both girls sat in the living room, chatting harmoniously. Or rather, Fleur was talking and Tracey nodded along, pretending to be interested. Harry knew the truth, of course, that Tracey's only real interest was in serving his cock - but her interest in Fleur was currently a convective illusion.

For now, Fleur was more occupied with tutoring Tracey than with Harry.

Once again, Harry wished he knew a little more about Fleur. He wasn't sure how to find out anything about her without enchanting her book and commanding her to tell the truth first. Fleur was, of course, a Veela, so she had a bit of an ego.

Her intense nature and considerable self-assurance not only allowed her to become the Triwizard Tournament champion, which only made her more full of herself, but also secured her an apprenticeship with Filius Flitwick, the most esteemed master of charms and renowned dueling champion.

In talking to Tracey, she had such an attitude that led him to believe she wasn't one of those feminists who strongly believed men were dumber than women and that women had the proper place of leading everything in the household, doing everything right, and fixing everything men did wrong (which was, again, everything).

There was no doubt she would marry her boyfriend Bill as soon as her apprenticeship was over, and even less doubt that her wealthy family would fund her way to achieving mastery, which she would never use because she would be busy having children once she obtained the title, especially if she took a look at the Weasley family and their average number of kids.

Harry didn't have much judgment for such a choice, although he didn't understand it. And perhaps he was completely wrong - but that was the reading he got from her.

Harry observed the two of them on the couch in the living room, wondering how on earth he would explain to everyone at school how Tracey became his girlfriend. Surely Fleur would go ballistic as soon as she could.

He thought about enchanting Fleur, but what if she caught on to what he was trying to do? What if she ran away? And what if, as Irma had said, someone caught on too soon and the whole thing unraveled before his eyes?

He had already noticed that even using the qualifier "too soon" meant slowly buying into the idea of being the king of the school. He might have worried about it if it didn't turn him on so much.

Tracey had so many extracurricular activities that it was rather easy to explain her constant absence here or there. And Irma, of course, was a single woman with no obligations to anyone except the school and now to Harry.

"So, Tracey," Fleur said, crossing her long legs on the couch. "How long have you two been together? I haven't heard anything at school."

"Oh," Tracey said, her voice dreamy. "It feels like, just, the longest time. Ages and ages."

Harry knew that in Tracey's mind, she meant literally ages, like dinosaurs had ages. He wasn't sure of the mechanics of the book, maybe the magic itself accounted for waiting for the next champions, or maybe the girls were somehow connected to the history of the manuscript itself, but he knew that the book worked by enveloping the girl's mind with the idea of worshiping him for thousands, if not millions, of years. When she finally snapped back to consciousness, her actual life was a distant memory that was easily erased from her newly found adoration for him.

"I never would have guessed you two were together. How did you meet?"

"Oh, we had a lot of classes together," Harry said nervously, stepping further into the living room. "We just started hanging out and it sort of organically grew from there. We actually started dating only a week ago... but it was um... well, we just knew it was right."

"Was it like after she worked in the library? Daphne told me about it."

"She did?" Harry's voice cracked.

Did Daphne also tell her about catching the librarian joyfully sucking his cock?

No, of course not. If Fleur knew about it, she was certain she would immediately use it to her advantage. "Oh, yes. She told me there was a lot of work to be done. And that you two were leading the way. I took it to mean that you did most of the work while she sat there being Daphne..."

She laughed, and Harry laughed too - so Tracey laughed too, somewhat mechanically. Both her beginning and ending were rather abrupt. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.

Panic struck Harry's heart. Who could be there? Who could be interrupting? All of his friends were occupied with themselves now. Unless-

Oh God, Irma.

Oh no, no, no...

"No, sit down," Fleur said. "I'll handle it. After all, it's my turn to teach you now."

Harry, frozen in terror, could only watch as Fleur bounced off next to him and entered the hallway. Why wouldn't his legs move? Oh God. It was all going to end in tears. Tracey also stood up, taking the opportunity to smile and lick her lips at Harry while Fleur had her back turned.

Fleur opened the door and immediately faltered. Harry already felt like he knew why, but he managed to step forward enough to check for sure. Yep.

In the doorway, dressed in a tight, pornographic red and black cheerleader outfit, stood Irma. "M-Miss Pince?" Fleur struggled. "What are you doing here?"

Her thick, voluminous hair cascaded down one side of her face as she posed, sticking one hip out with a leg forward. In one hand, she held a high shopping bag.

Wasting no time, she smiled at Fleur and pushed her inside. The ultra-sexy librarian shot a quick wink at Harry.

"I'm here for you, of course. Didn't you get my owl?"

Fleur, instantly looking unsure, shook her head. "No, Miss. I'm sorry. What did you need?"

"Oh, we have an incredibly important conversation to have, my dear. Do you mind if we do it here? It's incredibly crucial. And you just have to hear what I have to say."

"I - I do?"

"Of course, darling. Why else would I come here on my way to the costume ball if it wasn't important?" "Oh. I suppose... I mean..."

"You wouldn't think I would just come dressed to Harry's dorms for no reason, would you? Don't be foolish, darling." "Oh, yes, Miss. And I-mean no, ma'am. You're right, Miss. I'm sorry, Miss."

Harry could almost see how quickly Fleur's heart was pounding, reacting to the threat of power that Irma possessed. Her face grew flushed, and she backed up against the wall.

"In fact, there is an excellent reason why I'm dressed this way, Fleur. A very excellent, very compelling reason."

"Oh," she said, nodding. "Oh, good. I was... a little worried." She laughed nervously, the kind of relieved laughter someone has when they feel the danger has passed. "You looked like... like some sort of porn star!"

"You should have seen me with the wig on." "Wig?"

Irma pulled a blond wig out of the bag in her hands.

"Oh yes. I have a wig. It's for the party, after all! Here." She slid it onto herself and instantly transformed into a fair-haired beauty. She twirled around. From behind, Harry thought she was almost a dead ringer for Daphne. A small, hot thrill escaped his lips.