Prowler Madness
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
6,700
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
6,700
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story
Prowler Madness
Prowler Madness
One-shot, unless I go crazy again.
Author's note: I just started writing, and this came out. Haven't slept for a while, so that might explain a few things. Have fun!
Warnings: M/F, Maledom, Anal, Oral, "Slave", dub-con, MC, General fun
It was night in Little Whinging, Surrey and night-time is prowling-time.
Harry Potter was out for a midnight stroll - or was it a prowl?
Much had changed as of late, as Voldemort's essence influenced his soul, magical core, whatever it is... Major fucking changes. Urges. Dark urges. And with those primal, powerful urges came the power to satisfy them.
Harry Potter was fifteen, as such certainly no stranger to hormones; being horny, in possesion of not only the morning wood but the every-fifteen-minutes wood. This, however, was very much different. The urge was sexual, but it was also predatory and dominating. It was a howling need for a demonstration of his power through the forced submission of another.
So far just the prowl, the hunt, had been enough. Scoping out the potential target, going over it in his head, wacking off like a madman. Harry suspected, mournful at his apparent loss of any shred of innocence, that it was no longer so.
Need to think of something... With a wave of his hand, Harry Potter was no more. Or was he?
A ripple of air and he was again, but different. A Nundu? Surely not. The terrible, hulking prowler reduced again in size - chuckling. Stretching, his arms above him in the air, muscles and bone cracking as they realign; but there's a great deal more muscle and bone than there previously was, now isn't there? Brawny, fleshy, sinewy; but quick! Deadly, for sure.
Kitty got claws?
'What the hell happened?' Harry chuckles again, looking down, momentarily forgetting his troubles as the ground seems to be far too far away from his head. Did he just get TALLER?
/'You know the saying "don't play with fire"? Well, playing with magic is apparently quite alright. But then again, maybe that's because you're Harry Effing Potter. Everyone's always telling you you're special, might as well prove them right. Right? Talking to myself. Great.'/
Deciding this needs some testing, Harry stomps the ground - and cracks the bloody sidewalk.
Having no idea if he now weighs a fucking tonne, if he's fucking superman or if that was just another bit of magic Harry decides playing with magic is, if not 'quite alright', then at least very fun.
DEFILE! SLAUGHTER! FORCE! Screams the power in him, urging him to act. Harry throws a hesitant glance back at the apartment window of the attractive twenty-something muggle he's been stalking. No, there will be no defiling and slaughtering tonight... Sadly.
Being the epitome of Gryffindor golden-boy-ness takes a toll as the beast in him is temporarily caged; and really doesn't care much for that at all, to be frank. (Or Alice.) Rawr, it growls, but more intimidating still.
He blinks, and suddenly he's in his bed - and without clothes to boot!
The door cracks open, but there's no sun shining through. Only Bella spying, with her little eye, something green-eyed.
An ambush, an attack! Morte-munchers galore!
Harry's at the door in an instant, pulling it open and her into the room with it then crashing it closed again soundlessly as it locks without a lock. Poor little Trixie tumbles to the floor before she really knows what's happening. Oouff! Quite a tumble!
"Your time has come, Pot-" She threatens as she attempts to get up, but stops short as she takes in Harry's naked form. Bellatrix, in quite a flimsy robe he might add, is prey to be defiled and slaughtered if Harry ever saw one. Bad timing on the game of peek-a-teenager, huh?
The beast rises. The one between his legs, that is. It points at her, passing judgement.
A smile, bloodcurdling and breathtaking from a demonic adonis.
Bella melts and pours, shrieks in terror that isn't heard and has to have a lick.
The beast lurches. Harry sees that Trixie-tricks is made for using and grabs the opportunity by the hair to force it.
Bella can't help but to suckle away at the phallic god. She slurps and licks and bobs her head like a madwoman, enthralled in every sense of the word and wanting her prize; slaved to her desires.
Taking her by the throat and lifting her 'til her feet is of the floor with one hand, ripping her revealing garment to shreds with the other, she snaps out of it naked and exposed - ready for the taking.
"I'll kill -" She tried, but her arousal causes her voice to hitch in her throat and the choke of a hand silences it completely. She knows she is prey now, and she knows it's all wrong, but she's still dripping for it.
Harry thrusts her up against the wall and thrusts inside, almost shredding her like he shredded her garment. He ravages her, and every other man is less for it, even through her agony. With every predatory move, her screams are no longer of pain, but of wanton lust as she suckles feverishly on any appendage that happens to come close to her face, daydreaming of what is happening at night.
Harry releases her from Gravity's suspension by the throat and she falls into a heap, getting her lips filled to the brink with manmeat. Grabbing her leg, suspends her again upside-down and with his tongue has her at climax, screaming through cock in her throat and loving every second. Her head bangs against the walls, thrust by thrust, but her mouth just got a full-time job with career-making opportunities and isn't about to let something silly like head-banging end all the fun as climax hits again and again, 'til she's spent.
Body sagging to the ground, shuddering from hormonal imbalance and strain of repeated orgasm, she can barely move when she realizes the beast is not done. She flies again, and her breasts squish against the wall most deliciously as powerful hands align her voluptous rump for take-off. Moaning, despite that it might shatter her, she can't help herself as she squirms her ample bosom against the roaming of his hand and her virginal posterior against it's unevitable abuser.
Hoarsely she screams as he fills her to maximum capacity, as the rogue does it from behind, up the behind, with a vengeance and pleasure both. Crazed he destoys her, all the while she screams, until finally he empties inside her and let's go. She falls, and such a long fall it is, and crumbles. The Trixie Bella crumbles, only to have her mouth filled again as he empties further, gifting her his seed and forcing it as she gulps it down thankfully and bleeds; never happier than now.
Leaving the prey, adonis sleeps.
The next morning, Harry remembers not much at all, other than that it was obviously not a dream.
He is somekind of demonspawn and Bellatrix Lestrange is indeed working her mouth quite hard and well up and down his reproductive organ, wanting more and nothing else.
He supposes it could be worse.
One-shot, unless I go crazy again.
Author's note: I just started writing, and this came out. Haven't slept for a while, so that might explain a few things. Have fun!
Warnings: M/F, Maledom, Anal, Oral, "Slave", dub-con, MC, General fun
It was night in Little Whinging, Surrey and night-time is prowling-time.
Harry Potter was out for a midnight stroll - or was it a prowl?
Much had changed as of late, as Voldemort's essence influenced his soul, magical core, whatever it is... Major fucking changes. Urges. Dark urges. And with those primal, powerful urges came the power to satisfy them.
Harry Potter was fifteen, as such certainly no stranger to hormones; being horny, in possesion of not only the morning wood but the every-fifteen-minutes wood. This, however, was very much different. The urge was sexual, but it was also predatory and dominating. It was a howling need for a demonstration of his power through the forced submission of another.
So far just the prowl, the hunt, had been enough. Scoping out the potential target, going over it in his head, wacking off like a madman. Harry suspected, mournful at his apparent loss of any shred of innocence, that it was no longer so.
Need to think of something... With a wave of his hand, Harry Potter was no more. Or was he?
A ripple of air and he was again, but different. A Nundu? Surely not. The terrible, hulking prowler reduced again in size - chuckling. Stretching, his arms above him in the air, muscles and bone cracking as they realign; but there's a great deal more muscle and bone than there previously was, now isn't there? Brawny, fleshy, sinewy; but quick! Deadly, for sure.
Kitty got claws?
'What the hell happened?' Harry chuckles again, looking down, momentarily forgetting his troubles as the ground seems to be far too far away from his head. Did he just get TALLER?
/'You know the saying "don't play with fire"? Well, playing with magic is apparently quite alright. But then again, maybe that's because you're Harry Effing Potter. Everyone's always telling you you're special, might as well prove them right. Right? Talking to myself. Great.'/
Deciding this needs some testing, Harry stomps the ground - and cracks the bloody sidewalk.
Having no idea if he now weighs a fucking tonne, if he's fucking superman or if that was just another bit of magic Harry decides playing with magic is, if not 'quite alright', then at least very fun.
DEFILE! SLAUGHTER! FORCE! Screams the power in him, urging him to act. Harry throws a hesitant glance back at the apartment window of the attractive twenty-something muggle he's been stalking. No, there will be no defiling and slaughtering tonight... Sadly.
Being the epitome of Gryffindor golden-boy-ness takes a toll as the beast in him is temporarily caged; and really doesn't care much for that at all, to be frank. (Or Alice.) Rawr, it growls, but more intimidating still.
He blinks, and suddenly he's in his bed - and without clothes to boot!
The door cracks open, but there's no sun shining through. Only Bella spying, with her little eye, something green-eyed.
An ambush, an attack! Morte-munchers galore!
Harry's at the door in an instant, pulling it open and her into the room with it then crashing it closed again soundlessly as it locks without a lock. Poor little Trixie tumbles to the floor before she really knows what's happening. Oouff! Quite a tumble!
"Your time has come, Pot-" She threatens as she attempts to get up, but stops short as she takes in Harry's naked form. Bellatrix, in quite a flimsy robe he might add, is prey to be defiled and slaughtered if Harry ever saw one. Bad timing on the game of peek-a-teenager, huh?
The beast rises. The one between his legs, that is. It points at her, passing judgement.
A smile, bloodcurdling and breathtaking from a demonic adonis.
Bella melts and pours, shrieks in terror that isn't heard and has to have a lick.
The beast lurches. Harry sees that Trixie-tricks is made for using and grabs the opportunity by the hair to force it.
Bella can't help but to suckle away at the phallic god. She slurps and licks and bobs her head like a madwoman, enthralled in every sense of the word and wanting her prize; slaved to her desires.
Taking her by the throat and lifting her 'til her feet is of the floor with one hand, ripping her revealing garment to shreds with the other, she snaps out of it naked and exposed - ready for the taking.
"I'll kill -" She tried, but her arousal causes her voice to hitch in her throat and the choke of a hand silences it completely. She knows she is prey now, and she knows it's all wrong, but she's still dripping for it.
Harry thrusts her up against the wall and thrusts inside, almost shredding her like he shredded her garment. He ravages her, and every other man is less for it, even through her agony. With every predatory move, her screams are no longer of pain, but of wanton lust as she suckles feverishly on any appendage that happens to come close to her face, daydreaming of what is happening at night.
Harry releases her from Gravity's suspension by the throat and she falls into a heap, getting her lips filled to the brink with manmeat. Grabbing her leg, suspends her again upside-down and with his tongue has her at climax, screaming through cock in her throat and loving every second. Her head bangs against the walls, thrust by thrust, but her mouth just got a full-time job with career-making opportunities and isn't about to let something silly like head-banging end all the fun as climax hits again and again, 'til she's spent.
Body sagging to the ground, shuddering from hormonal imbalance and strain of repeated orgasm, she can barely move when she realizes the beast is not done. She flies again, and her breasts squish against the wall most deliciously as powerful hands align her voluptous rump for take-off. Moaning, despite that it might shatter her, she can't help herself as she squirms her ample bosom against the roaming of his hand and her virginal posterior against it's unevitable abuser.
Hoarsely she screams as he fills her to maximum capacity, as the rogue does it from behind, up the behind, with a vengeance and pleasure both. Crazed he destoys her, all the while she screams, until finally he empties inside her and let's go. She falls, and such a long fall it is, and crumbles. The Trixie Bella crumbles, only to have her mouth filled again as he empties further, gifting her his seed and forcing it as she gulps it down thankfully and bleeds; never happier than now.
Leaving the prey, adonis sleeps.
The next morning, Harry remembers not much at all, other than that it was obviously not a dream.
He is somekind of demonspawn and Bellatrix Lestrange is indeed working her mouth quite hard and well up and down his reproductive organ, wanting more and nothing else.
He supposes it could be worse.