Harry knocked on the door to Fred and George’s room. The suspicious clanking coming from within stopped, and moments later the door opened.
“Harry!” George exclaimed delightedly at the sight of him. “What brings you to our humble abode?”
“Tired of sharing a room with Ron, hmm?” Fred asked. “I don’t blame you; you’re more than welcome to join us, although you’d have to share a bed with one of us. Or both of us. We’re easy like that.”
Harry blushed. Over the last few months, the twins had both got increasingly flirty with him, and Harry was too socially awkward to do much other than flush and stammer in response.
“No, Ron’s good. Fine,” he said. “Your mum sent me up to find some gift ribbon. She wants to wrap Victoire’s presents before the party starts, and is blaming the two of you for the ribbon disappearing.”
Fred grinned. “So distrusting, that woman.”
“Although in her favour, I think we did nick it,” George added. “Still, very rude of her to treat her favourite sons that way.”
Harry glanced around the room. The twins lived in their own flat now, but their bedroom at the Burrow had been kept the same way as when they’d moved out--a colourful mess of chaos--likely because Molly wouldn’t know where to start cleaning it.
He noticed a spool of bright pink gift ribbon sitting amongst an assortment of WWW products on the desk.
“Oh, there it is!”
“No, that’s not...no, you’re right, go ahead.”
Harry turned to eye George suspiciously, who was looking utterly innocent along with Fred.
“Is this going to do something to me?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Fred clutched his hand to his chest dramatically. “Harry! Have we ever done anything to hurt you? The others are fair game, but you and Hermione are strictly off limits.”
Though the angelic looks of the twins still struck Harry as highly suspect, he did have to admit that they’d never purposely tricked him.
He decided, moments later, he only had himself to blame for being so trusting.
The moment he touched the spool, the ribbons flew around him in a whirlwind, strapping around his wrists, his arms, his chest, his thighs, and ankles, impossibly strong for what was supposed to be gift ribbon.
He stumbled backwards, hitting one of the beds and falling down onto it.
Fred and George appeared over him, looking down with matching grins on their faces.
“Sorry, Harry, we couldn’t resist,” George said, not looking sorry at all.
“And aren’t our beds comfy?” Fred added. “Sure you don’t want to reconsider our offer of you joining us?”
Harry squirmed as he realised, with horror, that he was getting hard.
He’d long had fantasies of being tied up and at the mercy of a lover, but he’d never imagined it happening for real--until now.
Being bound and utterly helpless to two people who looked like they would gladly play with him mercilessly was too much for his poor dick to handle.
And of course, the thing about Fred and George was that they weren’t the kind of people to keep their thoughts to themselves.
“Look George! It appears our little victim is enjoying himself.”
“Shut up,” Harry grumbled, his cheek burning hot.
“There’s no need to be ashamed, Harry,” George said, with a wicked grin. “So you have a thing for bondage? So do we. Only we much prefer to be the ones doing the tying.”
“And after we’ve done the tying, we like to play with our victims,” Fred added. “With their permission, of course. Do you want to play with us, Harry?”
A jolt of thrill went through Harry’s stomach at the thought, and he already knew the answer.
“But your family-”
“Will all be too busy with the party,” Fred said wisely.
“And nobody ever dares to come up to our room, anyway,” George said. “We’ll have plenty of time to drive you mad with pleasure, then get ourselves down to the party like we’ve not been sexually deviant all this time.”
“Harry!” George exclaimed delightedly at the sight of him. “What brings you to our humble abode?”
“Tired of sharing a room with Ron, hmm?” Fred asked. “I don’t blame you; you’re more than welcome to join us, although you’d have to share a bed with one of us. Or both of us. We’re easy like that.”
Harry blushed. Over the last few months, the twins had both got increasingly flirty with him, and Harry was too socially awkward to do much other than flush and stammer in response.
“No, Ron’s good. Fine,” he said. “Your mum sent me up to find some gift ribbon. She wants to wrap Victoire’s presents before the party starts, and is blaming the two of you for the ribbon disappearing.”
Fred grinned. “So distrusting, that woman.”
“Although in her favour, I think we did nick it,” George added. “Still, very rude of her to treat her favourite sons that way.”
Harry glanced around the room. The twins lived in their own flat now, but their bedroom at the Burrow had been kept the same way as when they’d moved out--a colourful mess of chaos--likely because Molly wouldn’t know where to start cleaning it.
He noticed a spool of bright pink gift ribbon sitting amongst an assortment of WWW products on the desk.
“Oh, there it is!”
“No, that’s not...no, you’re right, go ahead.”
Harry turned to eye George suspiciously, who was looking utterly innocent along with Fred.
“Is this going to do something to me?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Fred clutched his hand to his chest dramatically. “Harry! Have we ever done anything to hurt you? The others are fair game, but you and Hermione are strictly off limits.”
Though the angelic looks of the twins still struck Harry as highly suspect, he did have to admit that they’d never purposely tricked him.
He decided, moments later, he only had himself to blame for being so trusting.
The moment he touched the spool, the ribbons flew around him in a whirlwind, strapping around his wrists, his arms, his chest, his thighs, and ankles, impossibly strong for what was supposed to be gift ribbon.
He stumbled backwards, hitting one of the beds and falling down onto it.
Fred and George appeared over him, looking down with matching grins on their faces.
“Sorry, Harry, we couldn’t resist,” George said, not looking sorry at all.
“And aren’t our beds comfy?” Fred added. “Sure you don’t want to reconsider our offer of you joining us?”
Harry squirmed as he realised, with horror, that he was getting hard.
He’d long had fantasies of being tied up and at the mercy of a lover, but he’d never imagined it happening for real--until now.
Being bound and utterly helpless to two people who looked like they would gladly play with him mercilessly was too much for his poor dick to handle.
And of course, the thing about Fred and George was that they weren’t the kind of people to keep their thoughts to themselves.
“Look George! It appears our little victim is enjoying himself.”
“Shut up,” Harry grumbled, his cheek burning hot.
“There’s no need to be ashamed, Harry,” George said, with a wicked grin. “So you have a thing for bondage? So do we. Only we much prefer to be the ones doing the tying.”
“And after we’ve done the tying, we like to play with our victims,” Fred added. “With their permission, of course. Do you want to play with us, Harry?”
A jolt of thrill went through Harry’s stomach at the thought, and he already knew the answer.
“But your family-”
“Will all be too busy with the party,” Fred said wisely.
“And nobody ever dares to come up to our room, anyway,” George said. “We’ll have plenty of time to drive you mad with pleasure, then get ourselves down to the party like we’ve not been sexually deviant all this time.”