Two for a Girl

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This story contains adult themes, including explicit and non-consensual sex between multiple partners. If this subject matter offends you, or is forbidden by your government, your religion or your parents, please don't read it.

f/M+ NC PWP That means one girl, two guys, non-con, porn without plot. Don't say I didn't warn you.

***

If I was certain of one thing, it was that I did not want to be on the Quidditch team. Spending an afternoon speeding around a field on a broomstick, with the wind blowing up my robes and messing my hair was not something the future Mrs Draco Malfoy intended to repeat. Unfortunately, two days before the Cup-deciding match with Gryffindor, the future Mr Pansy Parkinson (so named in my head only, you won't be surprised to hear) had met with a nasty Charms accident, and he and that Longbottom boy were stuck in the hospital wing for the foreseeable future, not available to visitors.

Slytherin already had a perfectly acceptable substitute seeker in Quigley Quagmire, but Madam Hooch had taken the opportunity to come over all feminist.

"No women in the Greens!" she'd ranted. "No wonder you've the highest foul rate since the Falcons in the Sixties! You're a bunch of pig-headed chauvinists!"

Montague, the Slytherin Captain looked puzzled; I was quite sure he didn't know what chauvinist meant.

"We're having try-outs for the Slytherin women this afternoon," continued Hooch. "You will pick a female Seeker, and she will play on Saturday. So don't get any clever ideas that you're playing, Quagmire."

Quigley shrugged, and wandered off arm in arm with his siblings. Other people, though, were speculating loudly about their chances. I couldn't understand how Milly Bulstrode could think she had a hope; where was she going to find a broom strong enough to lift her bulk?

And that was how I found myself, after a most tiresome afternoon chasing up and down after a stupid flappy gold ball, ruining my hair and leaving my face a nasty mess of streaked make-up and red wind-burn, standing in front of the entirely inadequate mirror in the girls' changing rooms, trying to restore my appearance. I was planning another attempt at getting past Madam Pomfrey and into the hospital wing. I told myself I wanted to make sure Draco was alright and to take him the huge box of Midnight Muggle chocolates I'd bought from Honeydukes, but the truth was much more that I wanted to know if the rumour was true that Draco and Longbottom had managed to switch bodies.

I used a subtle smoothing charm to do my hair, but I always said that for decent cosmetics, you had to go Muggle; Mother sent me a box of the finest Parisian preparations every month, which far outdid the gaudy, gothic nonsense the other girls so eagerly snapped up in Hogsmeade.

The ugly women were long gone, so I was surprised to hear the door open, and footsteps behind me. I was even more surprised, looking into the mirror, to see Gregory Goyle standing behind me.

"Uh. Hi," I said weakly. "You coming to see Draco?"

"Nope," he said, rocking back on his heels with his hands in his pockets. "I'm coming to see you."

"You what?"

"I'm coming to see you, Parkinson. Come on. Play nice." He grabbed hold of my wrist, and began to pull me towards him.

"Stop it." I couldn't believe he was trying it on with me. I was Draco's girlfriend, for goodness' sake.

"Not just yet. See, I've got some things planned for this afternoon." His grip around my hand was unbreakable.

"Let go of me, Goyle. Or I'll - " I stopped. Or I'd what? Screaming was pointless; no one was left to hear me, even if I'd stoop to something so Hufflepuff. He'd got hold of my right arm; even if I could get my wand out of my pocket with my left hand before he noticed and grabbed that too, the chances of my left-handed magic turning him into a toad and not rebounding on me instead were low. If, in fact, turning Goyle into a toad would involve any change to him at all.

I tried a different tack. "Come on," I said in my most conciliatory tone. "Funny ha ha. Let me go. Stop messing about."

He grinned. "I'm not messing about, Pansy darling." Pulling me closer, he rubbed my clenched fist up and down the front of his trousers. "See? I'm dead serious."

"Goyle, what are you doing?"

"I don't think you really need to ask me that, do you?" I could feel his hot breath on my face, and his grip on my wrist tightened. "Come on, you going to give me some of what you've been giving Draco all year? Or you going to make me play rough?"

"Get off me! I don't know what you mean!"

But I did, all too well, as his free hand was running itself up the outside of my thigh, raising the little skirt I'd been wearing, and any hope I'd had of wriggling away was lost as I felt the wall at my back.

Goyle loomed above me. He was just so big, especially after Draco, who was lithe and slender and barely taller than me.

"Come on," he said, lifting my chin with his huge hand, so that I looked straight into his face. "Give us a kiss. I've seen you with Malfoy. 'S my turn now." He pressed closer to me, his legs each side of mine, trapping me even more effectively as he placed the other enormous hand over my breast and began to squeeze.

"Get off me!" I hissed, trying to free one leg from between his for a judicious kick. But he didn't let go. The strong fingers kept squeezing my breast, his thumb caressing my nipple, which was growing harder as he stroked it.

"I don't think you mean that, Parkinson." His breath was hot against my ear. "I think you're going to like it. Make a nice change for you, a bit of rough after Lord Malfoy, don't you think?"

The other hand let go of my wrist and slid underneath my blouse, over my stomach, slowly appraising. Then he began to undo the buttons.

"Stop it, Goyle!" I hissed. "Someone'll come in!"

"Hmm. 'Stop it because we'll get caught' is a bit different to 'stop it because I don't want it', isn't it Parkinson?" The hand on my breast squeezed a little harder. "Come on, we all know you're doing it with Malfoy. Be nice now, share it about a bit."

He slid the blouse down over my shoulders and slipped his hands into the cups of my bra, rolling my nipples between his strong, fat fingers. "Mmmm," he breathed into my ear, "tasty..." His hips were pushing gently against me now and I could feel - oh gods! - I could feel his cock growing hard against me.

There was an ache in the pit of my stomach and I prayed it was fear and not arousal. I tried to twist away out underneath his arm. Unfortunately the only result of this was that the lacy fabric of my bra ripped, and fell to the floor, leaving my breasts exposed to Goyle's hands.

"Nice move, Parkinson," he said, keeping a very tight hold on my upper arm. "Now if we could just get rid of the skirt…" He fumbled a little with the clasp, and then dragged it down over my hips, taking my panties with it.

I was naked and alone with Goyle, half-praying that someone would come in and rescue me, and half-dreading that if anyone did come in, things would only be worse. The hungry, almost animal look on his face intensified. He ran his hands over me, rolling my nipples around on his palms before squeezing my breast, pinching the nipple, and shoving the other hand between my legs, rubbing me roughly, deliciously.

"Goyle - Greg - please! Let me go." I tried to wriggle away from him, but he only held on to me tighter, one huge hand clamped tight around my wrist, the other… I didn't want to think what the other was doing to me.

"Not just now, Pansy darling," he grinned nastily. "I haven't even started yet. And besides," he raised his hand back up to my face and I winced in anticipation of him hitting me. Instead - and a worse, much worse blow to my pride - he wiped the wetness from his fingers across my cheek. "I think you're enjoying this."

"Please," I begged, softly, "just let me go."

"Oh, I don't think so." He smiled again. "'Coz if I let you go now, I'm going to have to tell Draco how badly his little girlfriend wanted it, aren't I? I don't think Draco would like that very much, do you? Whereas if you play nicely with me, we can keep it as our little secret. What do you say?"

He'd won. More than anything, I wanted Draco not to find out about this. "Okay." The word would barely come out of my mouth.

"What did you say?"

"Okay."

"'Okay' isn't good enough, Parkinson," he growled. "Tell me what you want. Go on, ask nicely."

"I wuh-want you…"

"Yes? To what?"

"I wuh-want you to fuck me, Goyle."

"Say please."

"Please."

"No, say it all. Tell me what you want."

I thought I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me, but the throb between my legs told a very different story. His hand was just resting across my breast now, but my nipple ached to be caressed and stroked, sucked, twisted, bitten…

"Please, G-Goyle, please fuck me."

"Alright, I'll fuck you then." His voice was off-hand, but I could see the glitter in his dark eyes and wasn't quite fooled. "You suck me off good, I'll fuck you. You swallow every last little bit and then give me the ride of my life, and I won't tell Draco. Or you piss me off and your days of being Lady Malfoy are over. Deal?"

I nodded. "Deal." I told myself I had no choice. And anyway, for the ride of his life, I couldn't imagine Milly Bulstrode really being any competition.

"On your knees then," he growled, pushing me downwards with one hand as he unzipped his jeans with the other. "No, wait."

He grabbed my tie from the hook where I'd hung it earlier, and tied my arms behind my back. "Naked woman, on her knees, with her hands behind her back. It's my ultimate fantasy." Goyle grinned. "Come on, suck me."

I had no choice, I told myself, I was naked and alone with him and on my knees with the bulging head of his cock between my lips and as my tongue drew him further into my mouth I told myself he was forcing me to do this, none of it was my fault, it was all him, the smooth salt of his skin and the heat of him, that was making me so hot, made me feel so wet, so good as he moaned and leaned into me more.

He linked his hands behind my head and shoved his cock deeper into my throat, to where I thought I'd choke on it.

"Oh gods, yeah, like that, yeah, harder, suck me, oh gods you little slut, you fucking whore, go on, suck me…"

And the throb between my legs where I felt so empty, and I knew soon, soon he'd touch me there and just how good it was going to feel.

And then he forced me to where I had to just open up and let him fuck my mouth, and try to breath around him, my nose pressed into the hot animal smell of his groin and him gasping for breath along with me until he pulled away from me and looked hard into my eyes as he shot hot, sticky cum all over my face.

And we heard the sound of slow clapping from over by the door. "Oh, very nice. Lovely show. Can anyone join in?"