"Practically Pristine"Author: pre_raphaelite1Characters/Pairings:
Myrtle, Remus/Slughorn, unnamed Hufflepuffs, Minerva/Tonks, Ron, Anthony/Fat Lady, Dobby, Luna/Sanguini, Carrows/unnamed student, Ginny/Pansy, Cedric/ChoRating:
andomimetophilia, anthropophagy, birth control/condoms, blood play, body painting, breasts, breathplay, catamites, clamps, costumes, dungeons, edible aphrodesiacs, execution, genital whipping, hands-free masturbation, hyphephilia, kleptophilia, medical kink, partner swapping, personal ads, pornography, red wings, ritual sex, sex shows, sex in the workplace, symphorophili, sperm banks/fetish, spectrophilia, threesomes, tourniquets, underwearOther Warnings:
Uh... You need more?Word Count:
1100 exactlySummary/Description: People think I spend all my time sitting alone in my u-bend thinking morbid thoughts. But I'll tell you a secret: I don't. Oh sometimes one must dwell on death in the curve of a pipe but there are other much nicer things to think and do and see.Author's Notes:
Well, this is every
kink/theme I didn't write last year... Talk about a challenge! And far, far too many tags. People think I spend all my time sitting alone in my u-bend thinking morbid thoughts. But I'll tell you a secret: I don't. Oh sometimes one must dwell on death in the curve of a pipe but there are other much nicer things to think and do and see. But it's just so much better that people think you aren't there to see what they do, that they are alone and no one knows the sort of filth they want or the sort of the filth they do to each other and themselves. It makes my u-bend look practically pristine.
Remus always swore he'd avoid looking through the personal adverts, too desperate for anyone other than the old and the destitute. But here he was, thrusting his cock deeper into his former potions teacher's wide arse, watching the corpulent man writhe against the tabletop and listening to him moan like a drunken whore. Wrapping his fingers around Slughorn's throat, Remus squeezed, pianist fingers denting the thick flesh. The moaning grew louder for a moment before Slughorn had no breath for it and only then did he come across the mahogany tabletop. Remus was twenty-two, but fucking Slughorn beat being destitute.
Two girls scurried back to the doors from opposite ends of the castle, a blond coming from the dungeons and a brunette from an alcove on the third floor. Their cheeks were flushed as they locked the door on their dorm room and drew yellow curtains around the bed they both clambered into. With a giggle they each, in turn, drew out a sagging latex tube from their pockets, the tips pooled with cooling pale fluid. Then they exchanged the spunk-filled spoils and lifted them to their mouths, letting the come slowly ooze out over their waiting tongues.
Minerva brought the crop down hard on the spread pussy of the figure before her who cried out in response to its audible slap, leather on damp skin. A pair of grey trousers lay discarded to one side, a striped tie wrapped firmly around crossed wrists. “You can try harder than that, Mr
Tonks. Here. Focus here.” And she brought the crop down again with perfect aim at Tonks' clit, and after a moment filled with gasping breath, her pussy drew together, seeming heavy as it transformed into a desperately hard cock and tightened balls. “Much better.”
Turning the glossy page, Ron was confronted by a tangle of limbs he couldn't quite untangle. He turned the oversized magazine with the wrinkled cover first one way then another then upside down to the objection of the picture's fucking inhabitants before giving up on his confusion in favour of his lust. So he simply stared, mouth slightly parted, at the naked flesh: full breasts, reaching hands, dripping lips, hard cock. His own wayward prick was pressed between pillow and mattress, flushed as he rubbed it against the bed, making a soft shushing noise with every awkward thrust.
He tried to focus, really he did. But she wouldn't stop squirming. Writhing before him. Moaning. Loudly. He desperately wished he could have taken her somewhere more private, where no one would see or hear what he was doing, but she wouldn't be moved. So he had to apply the immobilizing clamps to her where anyone could walk by and watch him carefully slip the paint brush along the generous curve of her breasts, between them. All while she arched and moaned under his sable tip. At least, Anthony muttered, Sirius Black hadn't damaged one of the nude paintings.
Dobby snuck around the rooms, eyes furtive and knobby fingers snatching what he could. A sock. A hat. A pair of knitted mittens. He shoved them under his too-big shirt as though the clothing wasn't left out with the express intent of being taken. But the hunched shoulders attested to his fear of being punished for the theft and the pointed jut between his legs to the arousal it gave him. He found a pair of lace pants and he dropped his collection of clothes to pull the knickers on past the purple of his tightly tied erection.
Luna chattered, speaking of the strange weather patterns in Finland and the giant squid's love of pickles. Her fingers stroked affectionately through the dark hair between her thighs, fingers curling over the head of a man whose pale face was smeared with her monthly blood. She smiled serenely at him as he licked eagerly at the stained lips, before she slipped a finger past him and inside herself, through heat of arousal and blood. Drawing it back out, she circled her damp finger over her clit, and the vampire's tongue chased after it, curling just where she wanted it.
They didn't know the name of the boy they took. He was nothing but muggleborn to them, nothing but an abomination to be wiped away, cleansed from their perfect world. The lumbering man watched, narrow cock in hand, as his sister silenced the boy, first ending his screams then his life with a too slow, too practiced curl of her wand. He continued to wank languidly as she butchered the small body, turning it from person into carcass into meat. It was only when she put the second bite of seared flesh into his waiting mouth that he came.
“Now that you've had your medicine, it's time for the procedure.” Setting the empty cup aside, Ginny smirked and picked up a pair of metal forceps from the expansive collection on the wall. “I think we need a bit of traction, don't you?” Pansy laughed, gentle and easy, as she lifted the hem of her hospital robe to show her shaved pussy, “Of course, Healer Weasley. I think traction is an excellent idea.” With an answering laugh, Ginny opened the forceps then closed them on one of Pansy's wet lips, eliciting a gasping moan from her.
*I taught them how to do it. There were enough very naughty people here doing very naughty things, what are two more? Eventually they'd figure it out on their own, so I might as well point to the right book on the right shelf and correct them when they drew their circle the wrong direction. If she wants to spend her time crying even as he touches her
there with those lovely transparent fingers, I'm not going to stop her? After all, they let me watch. And maybe I'll get to touch him when he gets tired of the living.