Chapter Twenty Seven
Harry Apparated into Helena's bedroom, making her squeal with surprise. No apparition wards, he thought grimly. He had to take her away, had to make her safe.
She was standing nervously, dressed in a white sundress, one that had frayed at the seams. Yellowed a little, with time. But she'd done her makeup beautifully — she looked angelic, her hair up in a loose bun behind her, but her blonde locks were so voluminous that they spilled out over her forehead, trying to cover those piercing blue eyes. Her mother's.
He took her in her arms and kissed her, dipping her back, enjoying her swoon, face flushing red. It had been fun, Harry reflected, to play the dashing gentleman who swept the poor girl away and promised her the world. But it was time to cross the finish line.
It was time to fuck.
"My Helena." He murmured as he embraced her. Absently, he pulled away her hair-tie, letting her bun fall away.
"But I want to see your hair splayed out on the pillow behind you, when I take you." He teased.
She blushed. "Tom…"
"Are you wearing what I sent you?" Harry peered down the top of her dress to see the lingerie Narcissa had sent her, from him. Cissy was even more excited than he was to claim the beautiful girl — she'd insisted that Helena be dressed right for him when he took her virginity.
"It's beautiful, thank you." Helena couldn't meet her eyes. "It must have been so expensive. The material is so soft. I…it fits perfectly, but I don't — I mean, is it really me? I don't know if I look like you want me to look."
Harry didn't answer — she was better distracted than comforted. Or maybe he just was done with her insecurities — he was being spoiled by the company of women who knew from their bond that they were loved, in love.
Instead, he Apparated them away. Into a bedroom in Malfoy manor. Cissy's bedroom — his, now, he supposed. Her boudoir now redesigned to be his — deep red walls, stamped with white and gold patterns of lilies and stags. Silk cream sheets and red blankets of Potter red. Narcissa had lined the dressers and windowsills with candles, the room fragrant with the scent of almond and rich leather.
It smelled hedonistic. Helena turned slowly, her mouth agape. To her, everything looked so expensive. Each item must have cost more than Sofia and Henri's farmhouse, she decided.
She trailed her fingers across the satin pillows on the chaise longue by the window. A huge garden outside — Quidditch hoops over water features. A stone fountain that shot up water and roses — the red petals floated down into the fountain, coating the circle like a Valentine's Day bath. Helena watched it for a long moment, imagined what it would be like to live here. That fountain was surely a woman's touch?
But, she supposed, Tom's parents may have created it, or their parents, or their parents before them. Noble families went back since time began — that was how they ruled the world.
She turned away from the window, overwhelmed.
A row of men's cologne on the dresser. The chandelier shimmered from above — floating candles hovering above a huge crystal piece, such that the crystal reflected the glowing light around the room, an abstract painting of light. And reflected all the more because of the full length mirror on the ceiling, above the bed — that mirror was perhaps the only thing that she thought must have been designed or ordered by Tom.
And then she turned to Tom, who watched her silently.
"Tom, I…" Her eyes fell on the bed, on all of the throw cushions. On the impeccable taste. "Have you…ever had a woman in here?"
"One." He said. He didn't look away, didn't look embarrassed. Tom never lied to her.
"Where is she now?" Helena swallowed.
"She's still in my life but not as someone you need to worry about. She loves the sound of you. She's been pushing me to tie you down, in fact."
Helena blinked. "An assistant?"
His smile widened. "Something like that."
Helena made a noise in the back of her throat, trying to clear the lump within. Wizards had their own predilections, and Tom would be no different. Could she be the wife of a man of Tom's status? The lady of a House like this?
It wasn't her. This wasn't her. Maybe it could have been, if she'd been raised a Malfoy, raised in this wealth.
But she hadn't.
She'd counted knuts and sickles with Sofia and Henri, to see if they could afford textbooks for her magic. She'd circled the calendar each year, counting down until Lucius' annual payment came through. She helped Henri with the cows' calving season, grinding her boots against the wooden fence to remove the cow dung. She sewed with Sofia as she grew each year, making herself clothes, skirts and tops.
She still remembered Sofia's pride as her adoptive mother told her she was big enough now to delve into the older woman's closet, to share bras and panties. Helena felt like she'd become a woman. But she remembered the relief too, in the lines of the face of the German woman.
And on her first summer back from Durmstrang, she'd emptied her trunk onto the kitchen table, of all the food she'd swiped from lunches and dinners, pies and meats, weighing down her robes. The chocolate she'd pinched from the common rooms when everyone had gone to bed, boxes left on the tables.
She'd been so proud. She'd spent months learning the Freezing Spell to keep the food preserved.
Sofia had burst into tears. Henri's face had gone red. He clipped her round the ear.
"Is this how we raised you?" He shouted. "To steal? Where is your pride?"
He'd gripped her shoulder and marched her to their fireplace. Used the little Floo powder they had to go back to Durmstrang. Walked her through all the watching eyes, straight to the Headmaster's office, and had her give all of the food back.
Helena had cried for a solid week, confined to her room. Usually, Sofia played the good cop to Henri's bad. But it was his heavy footsteps that creaked on the floorboards outside her door.
It was him that pushed her door open gently.
He who sat on her bed and wordlessly opened his arms. She flew into him and sobbed.
"Never forget, my little angel." He said softly. "Strive for better, but never forget who you are or where you came from. And never, ever, cut corners in life."
Helena let those words play in her head. She couldn't be the woman Tom wanted, because his House needed a woman of stature, of etiquette, of nobility.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling the bed reshape to greet her, the softness of the sheets. She couldn't meet his eyes, but she knew she had to say something, before she lost all courage.
"Tom…I want you to know." Helena took a deep breath, pushing her hair behind her ears, as much as she wanted to hide behind it. "This isn't me. This — you — are a beautiful dream. But I want you to have a woman who can be at your side in the society parties. Who can manage your home and your House. Who can manage your taxes, network with your allies, charm your enemies. None of this," She blinked furiously to keep the tears from spilling as she gestured around at the room. "None of this is me. And I can't be yours when you deserve better."
Tom knelt on the carpeted floor at her knees. His hand on her ankle then rising up her stockings to her knee, his innocent touch making her shiver. "Helena, my Helena." He shook his head in amazement. "You're so kind, so considerate. Even when I want to give you the world, you don't think you deserve it." He slid her dress up her knee and kissed her bare skin of her thigh, next to her suspenders. "But you do. I see how you've been raised, I met Sofia and Henri, and I want that real family, that tough love, that work ethic, I want that for our children."
"Tom…" She murmured.
"I have people to manage my House, but I want you to raise our family, to raise our children, to look after me like Morgana looked after Merlin." He pushed her dress all the way to her waist and nestled his head between her thighs to place a kiss on her silk panties, white as snow.
"Oh, Tom." She groaned, her eyes closed as she imagined being the Lady of his house, barefoot and pregnant, surrounded by children, supporting her husband. Wealthy enough to provide for her kids, to pay back Sofia and Henri for their kindness, to look after those that shared her misfortune. Comfortable in knowing that all she needed to do was love her wizard.
She let him push her back onto the bed. Let her pull her dress straps off her shoulder and pull them down her body, his wandless magic lifting her up gently so he could remove her dress. She giggled as he devoured her with his eyes, trying to cover her privates from his prying gaze.
"So beautiful." He murmured, hand running over her ivory stockings, up her suspenders, to the matching briefs, bridal florals etched in fine tulle at the sides, silken where it mattered, and topped with a little bow, her gift to be unwrapped. And to her waist, where her garter belt was a netting of flowery patterns, of lilies and roses, strapped with another bow.
He trailed kisses up her stomach to her matching bra, as she just laid there, trying to catch her breath.
"I'm not good enough." She murmured as he suckled on her neck, her head tilting to one side, despite herself.
Tom lifted his head enough for her to see his confident smile, the one she'd fallen for. "You don't have any choice in the matter, my Helena. I get what I want. And what I want is you."
The thought made her wet — she couldn't resist him. Tom was that type of wizard. All she had to do was let go.
"I'm going to take you, Helena." He said in his low, deep voice, the one that sent vibrations straight to her core. "I'm going to spread your legs and fill you with my cock. I'm going to go so deep inside you and fuck you, over and over, until I fill you with my seed."
Helena squeaked, her hands clenching into the bedsheets. He muttered something and suddenly he was naked. She coursed her eyes all over him — the rugged muscles, the hair on his chest, inward vee of his abs. And there, his rock hard cock, bigger than she even remembered. Tom's mushroom head was swollen with blood, and she gaped as he casually stroked his shaft.
The tip gleamed as he stroked himself over her.
"Oh, Merlin." Helena muttered, as the gleaming tip turned to glistening precum, dripping over his mushroom head, like the fountain outside.
Helena bit her lip, her thighs squirming together. She felt hot, hot everywhere, from her head down to her toes, but especially between her legs. Tom's cock throbbed as he jerked himself, and she took a heady breath to breathe in him. It smelled like man and magic entwined, thick and warm, the musk of a wizard with power. She felt her core drip.
"C-can I?" She asked haltingly.
"I need my witch." He said simply.
She stretched her fingers nervously to his colossal cock, feeling the shocking heat of it. It was like fiery steel, but as her fingers closed around it, unable to grip it entirely, his cock lanced a rope of precum onto her stomach.
Hot seed, painting her stomach. Helena swallowed hard, feeling like she was stepping through a curtain of madness. Who knew what lay beyond?
His shaft was rigid, but the skin was so soft, and it felt like, as his dick throbbed in her hand, it matched the beat of his heart, so with her every stroke, she made him beat faster. She smiled, thinking it was a way of saying I love you, her hand to his heart. She stroked him up the shaft, reaching down with her other hand, the intimacy of him above her exciting her, cock almost pressed into her stomach.
It was like she was preparing him to take her virginity.
"That's right, get me ready, sweetheart." Tom crooned.
Her hands became slick as his precum dripped, great globs of seed spilling. She couldn't believe the volume of it — what didn't drop onto her hands was shot onto her stomach. The thick scent was intoxicating and she found herself breathing hard.
Her hands found the spot just under his mushroom head and he groaned above her as her strokes picked up the pace. Precum pooled on her abdomen, splattering further as she began jerking wildly, coating her briefs, her thighs.
Helena loved it, loved what she did to him.
And then he pulled away.
She blinked, confused for a moment, until his fingers were digging into her panties and pulling them down her legs.
"But I want to be inside you, my beautiful girl." Tom countered, his shaft looking angry, head reddened with blood.
Helena squealed as his fingers found her wet folds, and she chanced a look down at herself — her pussy was soaked, glistening under the candlelight.
"Look." Tom held his fingers up, at the translucent river of grool stretched between his fingers and her netherlips, like three mouthfuls of saliva. "The world's wettest pussy."
Helena thought she would die of embarrassment, her hands hiding her face.
"Don't be embarrassed." Tom teased. "My witch is ready for me. It's beautiful."
"It's nooooot." Helena cried out.
"Your body knows you have to be so wet to take this inside of you." Tom patted her pussy with the head of his cock, swirling his shaft-heads up and down her reddened swollen lips. He coated his cock in her grool and coated her folders in his precum. "Such a messy girl." He tapped his cock on her core, like he was emphasizing his point, and the sheer sensation of his hard shaft on her wet heat had her flooding even more juices out.
"It's not right." She muttered, feeling faint. "It's a medical issue or something."
"Nonsense. You're perfect." Tom told her, taking her thighs firmly and spreading them.
Making her ready, he realized.
She felt panic in her heart, an icy chill deep inside her. Could she do this? Would it fit? Would he…
"Tom, I…you," She swallowed. "You won't throw me away after this, will you? My maidenhood, I mean, I shouldn't, not until marriage, really. You'll treat me right?" She stared up at him, hating herself for being weak, being vulnerable.
His smile was warm, reassuring. He leaned down to kiss her nose, then her lips, his eyes against hers so she could see the truth in them. "Helena, you'll be mine forever. I promise."
She saw his honesty and relaxed, her legs wide for him, spread-eagled, hair splayed out on his pillow, just like he wanted.
And, as he reared back and took his massive cock in hand, ready to guide it into her, he suddenly snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot." Tom said. He reached over and retrieved a silk tie from under his pillow. Ivory white, like her lingerie. "This came with the lingerie I sent you."
And then he was tying it around her head, her sight turned black and red.
"Ssh, be a good girl." He teased. "This is going to make it better for you. I want your first time to be special. And they say that being blind makes you enjoy all the other senses even more."
"Tom, I don't think I need—"
His finger slid into her sloppy pussy with an audible slosh. "Ssh, don't argue. Are you ready?"
"Y-yes." She trembled, looking up at where she thought he was.
"Don't be nervous. I'm putting a few charms on you, okay? One charm for birth control, one to maximize your senses."
"I don't, I mean, I'm going mad al—"
"Good girl." Tom kissed her, her lips tugged for a moment. And then he was gone. "If you feel another set of hands on you, or you think there's someone else in the room, it's because the spell is playing with your senses, okay? But it's worth it. You'll love it. Promise."
"O-okay, Tom. But I, is all this nec—"
"I'm going to make you mine now." He said in that enthralling voice. His hands splayed her legs wide, his cock resting — possessively, she thought — at her entrance.
Helena was going mad in her blindness. Trying to anticipate his movements, understand where he was. She heard rustling — a whisper of a voice, but she was left open, spread wide, just waiting for something.
Harry had said her other senses would go mad when her sight was taken away, and that seemed true. She sniffed and all she could smell was his cock, his seed, and her own wetness. She tasted his kisses on her lips.
She felt her pussy weeping, her core hot, thighs sticky. Her toes were curling and uncurling. Her suspenders were digging into her thighs. Her torso was hot, wet with his precum. Lip swollen from biting it.
She was a mess.
She heard a smack of lips. A kiss? No. The hands holding her legs open disappeared and then reappeared.
She brought her own up to meet them — they felt different…like a woman's.
The charm was really fucking with her mind, she thought.
But then she could think no more, because Harry's cock was at her entrance again — no longer teasing, but pushing.
"I'm going to make you mine now." His voice sounded but Helena was barely listening, her head throbbing as he pushed inside her, into her. She squealed as she felt her lips stretch as he entered her, her pussy reshaping as he slid forward into her gripping folds.
"Oh, fuck, oh, fuck." Helena pounded her fist into the sheets, twitching as she was filled slowly. "So thick, it won't — it won't—" She felt her pussy flood, felt a gush of her juices pulse down his shaft, felt every vein of his cock press against her walls. Heat, pure unadulterated heat, pouring from his hard cocking.
She screamed, tears pouring down her face, and she rocked back in someone's grasp. The spell was fucking with her behind — her head held in someone's lap, soft hands pulling her feet high, almost above her head. Someone swept the sweat-stuck hair from her forehead. Someone unhooked her bra. Someone cupped her breasts, kneaded them, rubbed her nipples.
She was going crazy.
But Tom was going deep. Her toes twitched, her whole body shaking as he deepened. She felt his breath on her, his hands on her asscheeks, clutching them, using them as leverage as he tried to push inside. She was too tight, or he was too big, Helena thought, gasping for breath.
He'd stopped, deep within her. Finally. She breathed hard, squirming around his thickness, the fullness inside of her.
Tom was gasping for breath and then suddenly laughing.
"W-what?" Helena said, heartbeat racing. Had she done something wrong?
"It's nothing." Tom chuckled. "It's just you're so tight, baby, I can't get in."
"B-but you are—" Helena frowned. "Aren't you?"
Someone exhaled breath. Maybe it was her own, Helena realized.
"Not even close, sweetheart. I've got another half to go."
"B-but I won't fit." Helena gasped out a hysterical sob. "I'm not made for you."
"Ssh, baby. It's okay." Tom kissed her lips abruptly, a hand stroking her hair. "It'll fit. You're so nice and wet for me, see. Okay?"
She felt the bed shake as he placed his hands on either side of her, leaning over, hips rolling. Helena let out a soundless scream as she felt his cock slide back and forth in her, grinding against her walls, so deep it felt like he was in her abdomen.
"But I need some help, baby. I need to hear it from your lips. Do you want me to reshape this tiny little pussy to fit my cock? Do you want me to go deep inside you so I can fill you with my seed? Do you want to be my witch?"
"Y-yes. Yes!" Helena cried.
"Are you sure?" She could feel his smirk as he thrust his hips forward, her pussy gushing with more of her honey. It was the sound that was the most obscene to her, that wet slapping sound, the filthy vacuum sound as she was empty and then whole, empty and then filled.
"I want it. I want you." Helena begged. She brought her hands up to find his face, arms around his neck. "Please!"
Instead of answering, Tom just flexed his giant cock, and she imagined it in her mind — half way inside her, inches and inches of veiny shaft yet to go, coated in his cum and her juices, a pornographic lewd cocktail that she needed to help him inside her. She imagined her own poor steaming wet pussy, stretched around his giant cock.
Felt the wet sheets beneath her, felt the trickle of liquid running down between her bottom. She was a slut, she decided. She had to be, to be here, to look like this, to be so full of cock and still be begging for more.
What would Sofia think if she saw her now? Or Narcissa, even, to see her own estranged daughter reduced to a filthy cum-covered slut.
But she was Tom's slut and that made all the difference.
"I want to hear you beg." Tom said, like he was inside her mind, like he knew her inner turmoil.
Helena trembled. She needed it. She needed him. She needed his giant cock to ruin her, to fuck her and fill her with cum, to inflate her belly with his seed, to make her his slut completely. Her mind had been ruined — by his cock or by his spell, she knew not.
"I want to be your witch. I want you to fuck me." She said quietly, fisting the bedsheets. "I want you to go all deep inside me and then fill me with cum so I look pregnant, like last time."
"Good. Spread her legs." Who was he talking to? He must have said spread your legs, but whose hands — his hands — pulled her apart even more, like a ballerina whore.
Tom retreated and then slammed forward, shoving his cock deeper than before.
"Fuuuuck," Helena moaned, smashing back onto the bed, but she couldn't even do that, held in someone's lap. She tried to escape the cock instinctively, fearfully, but she was held firmly as Tom pushed into her. The bed shook as he shook his hips, left and right, trying to get her tiny pussy to take his cock. Helena screamed and screamed as he rammed into her, her wet walls giving way, her pussy flooded with her hot juices, the lubrication he needed.
"No, no, no." Helena chanted as he became deeper, impossibly deeper. Her pussy sparked, the orgasm starting in her toes. "YES!" She squealed as his cock bottomed out, toes curling, legs twitching, pussy quivering. She snatched the sheets up in her madness, head falling back, body arching up.
Pure maddening pleasure.
Her feet found the bed and pushed herself up, hair in her mouth. A river of honey gushed from her core, spraying juices from her twitching steaming pussy. She heard them splash against his skin, felt the humiliation redden her face, smelled her own sex so vividly it felt like it was on her tongue.
"Guh, so fuck..so fuck…fucking—" Helena moaned, her head thrashing in someone's lap, the orgasm all-encompassing, refusing to die down. She thought she heard someone giggle.
Helena gasped for breath, her whole body shaking. She could feel her pussy, lips and walls, quivering around his cock. She hadn't known it could do that. She was stretched, ruined, taken apart, put back together. She was different. Her whole body felt different. Her mind was broken. Nothing made sense. Someone was stroking her, holding her, as her body shook and trembled.
"That looked fun." Tom joked.
"I…" Her words failed her.
"Shall I keep going?"
"Yes!" She murmured, rolling her hips to feel that once again, to try and make him feel as good as she did. How had she tried to deny this? How had she thought she had any power against this, against Tom and all his power and his magic and that enormous cock? She was his.
"I need to hear it, lover."
"Please fuck me. Please, I'm begging you, fuck me, make me yours, fuck me hard." Helena chanted, mind foggy.
"Well, if you really want…" Tom retreated, and she could only gasp as she felt him leave slowly, inch by inch, and it felt like it took forever. She heard the wet slick as he pulled out of her, felt her lips cling to his cock, felt the pop of him leave, felt the trail of her pussy pouring out, felt the gaping vacuum of her open ruined hole.
And then, before she could bemoan his loss, he rammed back inside her.
"Tom!" She cried out as he thrust deep, cock sliding through her and bottoming out, his skin against her, his balls slapping against her ass. The bed shook as he took her hard, pounding her pussy roughly. There was no romance, this was not making love, she — Helena Malfoy — was getting hammered like a cheap prostitute.
She could only moan, fingernails piercing the sheets, head lying back, held firmly in place to take each pussy-shaping life-altering thrust of Tom's enormous cock. Held firmly in place by someone. It was like her mind had conjured a guardian angel to help her manage his dick — a hand to wipe the hair from her face, an embrace to hold her tight.
She moaned and groaned and whimpered and screamed with each pump, sweat pouring down her face, salt on her tongue. Sex in the air, inhaled in every breath, the slap of skin on skin getting to her, the sloppy slaps of her wet cunt getting filled, the shaking of the bed.
"Morgana gave you such a tight little pussy." Tom gasped out as he fucked her.
He was using her mercilessly, and she had nothing to do, nowhere to go, she could only try and push back against him. She couldn't even dig her heels down, for her legs were lifted into the air. All she could do was get fucked.
"Tom!" She squealed again and she sprayed him with yet another flood of juices, her body twitching like it had been electrically shocked before going limp once more. She felt her breasts shake, felt Tom's hands grab them roughly.
"So good, so good, so good!" She chanted mindlessly as she came again. Her whole body shook.
"I'm going to cum!" He announced, and the idea aroused her all the more. Helena began trying to push her pussy, roll her hips, desperate for his cum, for all of his cock.
"Inside meeee," She cried.
Suddenly the silk tie was loosened around her eyes.
She could see! See Tom as he came deep inside her, see him groan out, see the shocking cock-bulge in her stomach as he pulsated, unloaded, see her pussy stretched and enveloping every inch of his shaft, see the juices she'd squirted from her slutty pussy. She could see her own glistening pussy quiver and cum as he filled her with an almighty load.
The orgasm quaked through her whole body but even as she convulsed with pleasure, she kept her eyes open, desperate to see the twitches in his body, as he fired rope after rope. Pure heat shot deep into her core, again and again, and she watched her belly fill up.
He breathed harshly, hips jerking over and over as he filled her, pressed so deeply, and she couldn't help but croon in lustful joy as she felt her deepest insides painted and filled with hot cum.
Helena smiled widely, happy. And then she blinked, noticing the woman's hands holding her thighs up and feet wide. Noticed the blonde hair on her own face, noticed the fact she was cradled in a woman's lap. She threw her head back, saw her mother's proud visage, her eyes wet with joyous tears.
Tom muttered something.
And then her worldview changed.
Pure magic sparked from Tom's touch to hers. The hairs on her body stood up. She took a breath and when she exhaled it, the world was different.
Tom was Harry.
Hers wasn't a teenager's puppy love, admiration mixed with hormones. No, her love was pure, boundless, deep. And, she shivered, reciprocated. She felt in her core, like a pillar that had always stood, a deep understanding of herself.
She loved Harry.
And Harry loved her.
"I love you." She tested the words out, loved them.
She took a breath, her hands finding her huge belly. Other realizations tugged at her.
Harry needed to survive. Harry needed women to survive, needed to claim them to gain power.
He loved her.
He'd take care of her.
But in return, she'd love him back, ten times over. And there were others, others that loved him. Including…
"Narcissa?" Her mother, wearing her own white lingerie — a matching set, Helena realized. Stockings, garters, bra, panties.
"I hope you'll call me mother, in time." Narcissa said wetly, laughing over a lump in her throat. "That was so beautiful, my daughter."
Helena opened and closed her mouth, finding it difficult to breath. Her ears were ringing, her head dizzy. "I…I don't understand?" A tear spilled down her cheek.
Harry, her Harry, dried it with his thumb, pulling her cheek so she'd meet his gaze. "Narcissa was my first. When Lucius died, he told me and Narcissa about you, how he'd Memory Charmed your mother when you were born alongside your brother, so she never knew you existed."
"B-but—" Her head felt weak.
"And as soon as we learned about you, we knew we had to have meet you." Still inside her, he leaned forward to capture her lips. "Narcissa wants you in her life so desperately, my Helena. As do I."
Helena bit her lip, looking up at the beautiful older woman as she stroked her hair. Her heart skipped a beat as she parsed Harry's words. "You're-you're why I have Harry?"
Narcissa smiled at her and then Harry. Their Harry, Helena realized. "Harry is why you're he—"
"Narcissa wouldn't rest until I claimed you." Harry interrupted. "So we could love you, together."
Her mother wiped a tear from Helena's eyes as it ran, her own tears falling freely from her face, her smile wide but trembling. "So we could love Harry together, you and I, my sweet daughter. I love you, my Helena. And now we'll be together, all three of us. A family united."
Harry's thumb tugged at her lip. "Didn't I tell you I would give you a family?" He smiled.
Helena smiled, and then, feeling the rush of emotions, began to cry. Everything had changed. She was a woman now, Harry's woman. And she had a mother, a mother that hadn't known she existed but loved her from the second she did. A mother who loved Harry and Harry loved her and they could all love together.
Helena shook as she sobbed, ensconced between Harry holding her — inside her — on one side, and Narcissa on the other, propped up in her lap.
"Sssh, baby girl. You're okay. It's all going to be okay now." Narcissa held her to her chest, rocking her gently.
"You love me?" Helena hated how weak her voice was.
"I love you." Narcissa confirmed, wiping away her tears. "So much. I'm going to give you so much love, show you how to be a witch Morgana would be proud of."
Helena swallowed the lump in her throat. "Okay." She said quietly.
"I'd…I'd like that." She admitted.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, tears turning to embarrassed laughter.
"That was very sexy. I'm honored I was here to see your first time." Narcissa said softly, cradling her daughter's face.
"I can't believe you saw — are seeing…" Helena trailed off.
"It's okay." Narcissa laughed richly. "He does the same thing to me." Her hand slipped down her daughter's stomach, thumb tracing across her nipple, over her cum-filled belly, until it was resting on the very obvious bulge just under her abdomen, where Harry still filled her. The older woman rubbed the skin softly, looking up at her lover.
"He's still hard." Helena gasped. She stared down at where their groins joined, where thick milky cum was seeping out, dripping down over her bottom. "There's just so much of it." She whimpered.
"That's our Harry." Narcissa smiled as she foraged further down, to swipe up a thick fingerful of cum. "He loves to feed us litres and litres of cum." She brought her finger to her daughter's lips. "And to be his good girls, we need to make sure we don't waste a drop of it, because it makes us powerful and healthy, because it changes our bodies to fit his desires, because it makes our bond stronger. And when our bond is stronger, Harry is stronger. Harry needs to be strong."
Helena sucked obediently on her mother's finger. "Harry needs to be strong." She repeated.
"So we won't waste a drop?" Narcissa prompted.
Helena shook her head.
"Good." Narcissa said happily. She gave her daughter another handful of cum. "Do you want to know a secret? Want to know what makes Harry tick? What drives him wild?"
Helena nodded around the fingers in her mouth. She had to know how to love Harry better, more than anything. She had to know how to please him.
"He loves it when his girls drink up every drop of his cum. It's his naughty little fetish."
Harry just groaned, red-faced, but Helena noted he hardened even more inside her.
Narcissa fed her a big mouthful of cum, hot globs, stringy and thick. She dropped her breath to a whisper, leaning down Helena's ear. "And he loves it when we share his cum." Helena opened her mouth — only for her mother to capture her lips, tongue invading to retrieve Harry's tasty seed.
Helena's eyes went wide with shock as her mother kissed her, but soon she was fighting back, tongues dueling as they fought for every taste. Narcissa pulled back, giggling, strings of cum stretching between their lips before they both dutifully swallowed.
"Oh! He's so stiff inside me." Helena favored him with a warm smile. "You do like it!"
They shared some more kisses and Helena let herself sink into the euphoria of love, the giddiness of pure debauchery. Gooseflesh on her arms as her mother let handfuls of cum drape over her bare breasts, bra pushed down, a firm hand nestled behind her neck so Helena had no choice but to lick it up. She swore she'd never forget Harry's groan as she suckled on her mother's cum-covered breasts.
Her stomach fluttering, her head weightless, as Narcissa returned the favor. Every filthy thought was greeted by a pleased groan from Harry, a flex of his hard shaft within her, a gleam in his eyes.
"You'll need to clean him, now." Her mother ordered.
"With your mouth. Make sure you keep eye contact, relax your throat, don't forget about his testicles. Harry loves rhythm, and he loves to hear the, well," Narcissa blushed. "Choking noises, so make sure to really get him deep." She instructed.
Helena felt dizzy, and more so when Harry suddenly pulled out of her, her pussy trying and failing to grip him. There was a wet sucking sound, one that had her almost covering her face with her hands in embarrassment. But Narcissa held her wrists so she would look at Harry's white-splattered cock, glistening with their joint juices. "Oh, Merlin." Helena bit her lip, realizing his whole lower half was covered in her squirt, his groin drenched in pools of cum, cum that called her with its smell and magic.
Harry knee-crawled up the bed, his cock advancing threateningly, straddling her chest and shoulders.
"Open up, baby. Clean your wizard. Be a good witch." Narcissa ordered.
Helena opened her mouth nervously, and Harry immediately shoved his cock into her mouth and down her throat. Helena choked, coughing around his cock, but Harry was unrelenting, grunting in pleasure as he sank his cock into another wet warm orifice.
"Relax, enjoy." Narcissa murmured softly. Helena wasn't sure if she was talking to her or Harry, but she did her best, swallowing and licking, enjoying the taste of him as he slowly fucked her face. She cleaned him, staring straight into his eyes as he used her like a cum-rag.
"Good girl." He muttered, sawing his cock in and out of her, her tongue darting out to at least attempt to clean him. She shivered in glee.
"Mmmph!" Helena kicked her legs as she felt them parted. What was her mother doing—
"This is what really turns Harry on." Narcissa declared.
"Gurk—" Helena choked in shock as she felt Narcissa's tongue lap at her cum-covered thighs, kissing strands of cum from her inner leg, working up to her labia. Harry leaned back to look at the mirrored ceiling himself, and so Helena could just about see the white cum seeping from her swollen pussy, thick, voluminous. Helena felt her body lock up, taking shaky breaths, taking the opportunity as Harry was distracted.
Her own mother was cleaning her slutty cummy body, Helena thought, stunned. How had the day come to this?
Narcissa was humming happily. "You two taste so good together."
Harry pushed his cock back down her throat, air-tight, plugging away at her mouth. But Helena couldn't concentrate, choking and coughing as she felt her thighs pulled further apart. Her mother breathed on her sensitive pussy, making her tremble, and then she pressed her lips right against her tunnel, tongue dipping in to capture all of Harry's cream.
Her mother sucked and slurped noisily and Helena's eyes went wide around Harry's cock.
Finally, Harry was clean, content to withdraw and settle at her side. His cock stood up angrily, a constant reminder that their work wasn't done. A witch's work was never done, Helena thought absently, wondering if she was going mad.
Together, they watched Narcissa clean her — Helena could only shake and tremble and melt into Harry as her mother's diligent tongue slurped away. Narcissa sucked and swallowed, again and again, and Helena couldn't help but cum once more at the sensations, spraying her mother's face with her juices, her hands clutching Narcissa's hair to keep her face tightly pressed against her steaming cunt.
Harry just laughed as she quivered in his arms. "My two naughty girls."
"Harry." She squealed. "I can't-I can't breathe, I'm going mad, I'm…just help me!"
"Don't worry." He chuckled. "You'll be okay. You can't go insane from too much pleasure. Believe me, I know, the girls try their best."
"B-but, I don't know if I can manage." Helena clutched his bare chest. "I mean…it's all just so dirty."
"Do you love me?"
"Of course!" Helena said, startled. "I can't breathe just thinking about you. It's all so much."
"Then you'll manage. For me." Harry kissed her forehead, absently reaching out for a glass of water. As they watched Narcissa work, her ass swaying from side to side, her hand down her own panties as she cleaned her daughter, Harry wondered if the young Malfoy girl had a point. Maybe he'd gone a little overboard. Maybe sex wasn't the be all and end all.
It was a problem, he decided, that the magic bond he'd chosen seemed to justify all his worst instincts, his debaucherous vices. But, as Helena began to whimper again, her belly slowly deflating as Narcissa lapped away, the Malfoy matriarch's face glistening with grool and cream, Harry decided it was fine.
There was nothing wrong with bringing a family back together.
"Next round," Harry rested his head back against the pillows. "I'll do Cissy and you can clean her up this time."
Helena's shocked face almost made him choke with laughter.
I went a little overboard! But it felt like the scene needed to be long, to do it justice. Harry's bringing families back together, what a hero. Next up, we check in with Fleur, Harry gets some news he really doesn't want, and Hermione argues over the preferred nomenclature for prostitutes.
Want to see how Fleur is falling apart and read a few chaps ahead, along with exclusive artwork of Cissy, Fleur, Hermione and more as well as little story scenes? Check my profile bio.