Author: Times of Bliss
Story: His Mouth
A/N: My second attempt at bestiality... sort of. Featuring Neville and Trevor.
Setting: Early November in Neville's 3rd year.
Warnings: All the stories in my account are strictly for entertainment purpose only and not to be followed in any way. Please turn away NOW if you are underage and/or you dislike unusual pairings and/or bestiality and/or cannot differentiate between what is fan fiction and what is real life. Warnings clear enough? OK. For the rest of you, proceed, enjoy and don't forget to review! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. I'm sure you knew that.
It was dinner time on Saturday night and the Gryffindor common room was deserted.
Neville Longbottom entered the portrait hole and hurried upstairs to the third year boys' dormitory. He toed off his shoes and climbed onto his bed, closing and locking his curtains and then adding a silencing charm for good measure.
Trevor was sitting at the foot of the bed, looking up at him in an expectant manner.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Trev," Neville apologised, still breathless from his rush up to Gryffindor Tower. "Helping Professor Sprout re-pot the Shrivelfigs took longer than I expected."
He held out his hands for inspection, but Trevor wasn't interested in checking out the dirt under his fingernails. His round, bulbous eyes had shifted to his master's groin with the same expectant look in them.
"Right." Blushing a bit under that intent gaze, Neville drew his hands back and quickly undid his trousers, taking them off together with his underpants. He placed his socked feet flat on the sheets, legs apart and knees bent, aware that he was already half hard with anticipation.
"Come on then," he invited, quite unnecessarily since Trevor was already crawling between his bare legs, mouth opening wide.
Neville shivered when a cool slickness touched the head of his erection, that sensation slowly encompassing the top half of his length. It wasn't pleasant, but it was bearable since Trevor started sucking almost immediately.
Instead of taking in the sight, Neville fisted his hands in the sheets and closed his eyes, his mind going back to the incident that had started this strange arrangement. It had happened last Friday, a week ago...
Neville had dreaded Friday afternoons ever since the start of term, no thanks to the last class being double Potions with the Slytherins. Each by itself was enough to make him very nervous; the two together were a nightmare.
Today's class was no different. By the end of the lesson, he had managed to melt his latest cauldron and lose Gryffindor twenty points. Snape snarled at him to clean up the mess before sweeping out of the classroom, the other students - Slytherins with smug smirks and Gryffindors with exasperated looks – following suit.
Neville emerged from the classroom some twenty minutes later, his hands and uniform stained with green slime, as was Trevor, clasped in his arms. He didn't notice the three Slytherins waiting in the corridor until they confronted him.
"You're a mess, Longbottom!" Malfoy jeered. "At the rate you're going, you should order a dozen new robes to go with the cauldrons you destroy each week!"
"Shut it, Malfoy," Neville mumbled and tried to push past him.
"What's that? Did you actually... say something?" Malfoy's pale eyes widened in mock astonishment, left hand splayed dramatically across his chest. On either side of him, Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.
"I said shut up," Neville gritted out and tried to push past them again, one arm holding Trevor close to his chest.
"Oh? Care to tell me why?" Malfoy had a mocking smile on his lips as he twirled his wand in his right hand.
Neville gulped, his eyes going from the wand to the staircase behind the three Slytherins. He knew he hadn't a hope in hell of reaching it unscathed.
"Ifyou don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all," he mumbled.
Trevor chose that moment to croak loudly as if underlining Neville's words. He was probably protesting his master's tight hold on him, but Malfoy's eyes narrowed in anger.
"Neither one of you should say anything!" the blond spat before muttering something Neville couldn't catch. A jet of yellow light issued from the hawthorn wand and hit Trevor squarely in the face, making Neville stumble backwards in shock.
"Malfoy! What did you do?!" Neville cried out in horror. He lifted a limp Trevor up to eye level, frantically inspecting him for any injuries or abnormalities. This time, his panicked voice was loud enough to cause the other three to look around them.
"Come on, before Snape appears," Malfoy urged and disappeared round the corridor with Crabbe and Goyle.
With his heart hammering in his throat, Neville knelt on the stone floor and laid Trevor down, aiming a shaky wand at his familiar as he whispered 'Ennervate'. The sight of Trevor opening his eyes and looking both surprised and unharmed almost had him bursting into tears of relief. It wasn't until the toad opened its mouth and no sound came out that Neville peered closer, his heart dropping to the stone floor when he realised what the hex had done.
His round face paling again in renewed shock, he struggled to his feet and rushed off to the Infirmary with Trevor in his hands and his book bag swinging wildly off of one shoulder.
Madam Pomfrey couldn't do anything.
"I can grow missing bones, Mr. Longbottom, not tongues!"
Neither could Professor Sprout. At least not right away.
"A potion made with the singing grass from the Scandinavian mountains will help, but the earliest we can get some is mid-December."
That was still six weeks away! Luckily, Hagrid's suggestion was both practical and applicable.
"Well then, jus' feed Trevor his meals by han' til that potion's ready, eh? Nuthin' to it!"
Only slightly mollified, Neville trudged back to the castle and set Trevor down on one of the stone benches in the courtyard. The insects buzzing around in the evening air made Trevor open his mouth again and again, but no tongue zipped out to catch his dinner. His would-be meals continued flying around, oblivious of their near brush with death.
With a heavy sigh, Neville stunned and pocketed a few of the insects, picked Trevor up again and went to the Great Hall for his own dinner. Unfortunately, Trevor refused to be fed by hand. He ignored the flies and crickets proffered by Neville's chubby fingers and continued sitting next to his empty plate, looking slack jawed and somewhat bewildered.
Neville bit his lip, all his initial worry returning in waves, snatching away his appetite and tying up his stomach in knots. If only he weren't such a dunderhead at Potions, he castigated himself silently, he wouldn't have melted his cauldron, his run in with Malfoy wouldn't have happened and he wouldn't be worried sick about Trevor now and dreading Gran's next letter asking about his studies and his familiar.
It was hopeless. He was hopeless. He shouldn't be allowed a familiar if he couldn't even take care of it!
Around him, his year mates were busy throwing suggestions for Trevor's continued existence at him, oblivious to or ignoring his downcast face and trembling lips.
"He needs protein," Hermione declared unequivocally, frowning down at Trevor as if it was his fault, and then over at the Slytherin table where Malfoy and his friends were grinning maliciously at them.
"Try feeding him some of our food," Dean suggested.
"Like the steak and kidney pie," Lavender said.
"Or the chicken and mushroom one," Parvati added.
"Bacon should be good, I reckon," was Ron's input.
"Bacon's for breakfast, Ron!" Hermione again. "What about some... well, tofu?"
"Do you see any of that here?" Ron shot back at her.
"Er, maybe Trevor just needs a drink," Harry suggested, likely trying to preserve the peace between his two best friends.
"Let's give him some beer!" That was Seamus.
Neville just shook his head at each suggestion, torn between wanting to glare at his well-meaning friends and wanting to burst into tears. Since the latter appeared to be winning out, he jumped up and fled the Great Hall with Trevor, shoulders hunched against the loud snickers coming from the Slytherin table.
Alone in his dorm room, Neville placed Trevor on the bed and knelt on the floor to look him in the eye.
"I'm so sorry, Trev," he whispered. "It's my fault you lost your tongue. You must eat something. Please... I don't want you to starve to death."
Trevor just opened his empty mouth and closed it again with a wet sounding gulp.
Fresh tears threatened Neville, but he shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath and holding it for a long moment before exhaling. When he opened his eyes again, they were moist, but a determined glint showed in them.
"Right. What's done is done. I'm going to take a shower now and get some sleep. We'll go look for insects early tomorrow morning, all right?"
By then, Trevor should be hungry enough to agree to being fed. Neville stood up and went to get a clean set of pyjamas from his trunk. He carried Trevor to the bathroom and placed him in his usual corner of the shower stall where it was nice and damp and then he stripped off his own clothes and tossed them into the hamper basket under the sinks.
Despite his worry, the novelty of having the entire bathroom to himself soon caused another need to arise in Neville. He was shy and modest, but he was also a teenager and his hormones had woken up over the summer. After a quick wash, he placed his feet further apart and started stroking the hardening length between his legs. Trevor was behind him and likely oblivious to what was going on, but Neville closed his eyes anyway.
It didn't take him more than a minute of quick fisting to peak with a sharp gasp and a shiver as he stained the tiled wall in front of him. He stroked himself a few more times and sighed his satisfaction, opening his eyes and reaching for the tap to rinse off. Then something on the floor caught his eye.
Trevor had moved out from his corner and was now in front of him now, facing the same wall.
"Trev?" Still breathing hard, Neville squatted down on trembling legs and peered closer. Trevor looked like he was licking the water droplets from the tiles, only since he didn't have his tongue, he was... 'lipping' them?
Neville frowned and bent his head lower. Then his mouth fell open and he looked back at the tiles.
His first thought was that Trevor had mistaken the white creamy substance for water.
His second thought was that - oh Merlin! - he might be poisoning his toad!
His third thought - something about him being expelled or killed by Gran - never fully formed in his head since something was touching the sensitised head of his softening length, driving every other thought from his brain. His head snapped down so fast he almost smacked his forehead against the wall.
Trevor had moved between his legs, head lifted as high as it could go. He opened his mouth wide and-
Eyes as wide as they could go, Neville lost his balance and sat down on his arse with a surprised 'Oof!'
Trevor looked annoyed at the interruption. He ignored his master's horrified face and crawled closer to him with a resolved look on his own face.
With a squeak, Neville scooted backwards until his back hit the tiled wall behind him and he could go no further. He watched in mounting shock and trepidation as Trevor came closer and closer, and then, without so much as a 'by your leave', took him in.
Too stunned to do anything, Neville just sat there, mouth hanging open and thighs shaking as he let his toad have his way with him, as it were. The enthusiastic sucking that commenced - Trevor must really like the taste of his semen - made Neville's toes curl and soon, embarrassed moans were leaving his mouth.
Before he could wrap his mind around what was happening and more importantly, what was about to happen, it already had – he was coming again and inside his familiar's eager mouth.Trevor swallowed it all and even suckled at him to get the last few drops before releasing his spent flesh and crawling back to his own corner with what sounded like a satisfied burp.
It took Neville a full five minutes to snap out of his shock and stand up on wobbly legs, hands braced on the wet tiles for balance. He finished off his shower and washed a certain part of himself again very thoroughly, all the while sneaking glances over his shoulder at an oblivious Trevor as though he had grown a horn and wings.
It took him another half an hour of lying in bed and staring wide eyed up at the ceiling to realise that he - or rather Trevor, now sleeping peacefully at the foot of his bed - had found a solution to their predicament...
Neville's eyes snapped open as Trevor took him even deeper, his sucking increasing in intensity. Drawing his knees in, he gritted his teeth as his stomach muscles clenched and his plump thighs started shaking with the familiar onset of his orgasm. When Trevor leaned forward and swallowed him almost to the root, Neville toppled over the edge, a raw, pleasured cry escaping his lips as he spilled himself inside his familiar, keeping his hips still to avoid choking Trevor.
When Trevor released him, Neville grabbed his wand and spelled himself clean.
"That was great, Trev," he sighed, still panting. He needn't have bothered with pleasantries though; Trevor had already burped his satisfaction and moved back to the foot of the bed, looking like he was ready to settle down for the night.
With a shrug, Neville pulled on his underpants and trousers. He was starving and dinner would have started in the Great Hall by now. Quickly, he removed the silencing charm and unlocked his bed curtains before peeping out. At the sight of the empty dorm room, he climbed out and shoved his feet back in his shoes.
After a week, Neville had come to grips with this strange arrangement he had with his familiar. There was still five more weeks to go before that potion could be brewed; he didn't want to think too much about what would happen after that. The important thing now was that since neither he nor Trevor had suffered any ill effects from their sessions, he didn't see any harm in continuing them as long as no one found out.
His professors and fellow Gryffindors had stopped questioning him about Trevor and most likely assumed he was feeding him in private.
He was... just not by hand.
Neville couldn't help smiling wryly at that, a blush tinting his cheeks as he acknowledged that the orgasms he got in return weren't bad either. At least he didn't have to hide under the sheets to wank, like how Seamus and Dean did each night. It wasn't until he reached the Great Hall that he realised something else. Trevor had actually managed to swallow him whole just now so it wasn't just his imagination that his toad was getting bigger.
Neville's smile turned into a proud grin as he entered the Great Hall. At least he could tell Gran that he was getting to be very good at taking care of his familiar!
- The End -
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