Chapter 1: A Golden Trio
***** Disclaimer: This story takes place several years after the battle of Hogwarts. All participants are over 21 years old. *****
The private backroom of the Three Broomsticks was warm, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and burning peat from the fireplace. Harry stood nervously, watching Ginny as she bolted the door. The firelight played over her red hair, turning it into a cascade of liquid copper.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked, his voice a little tight.
Ginny turned, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “You’re the one who whispered it to me, remember? In the dark, after everyone else was asleep. Your little secret.” She stepped closer, running a hand down his chest. “I told you I’d make it happen.”
He swallowed, his arousal already a persistent thrum in his veins. This was his fantasy, the one he’d only ever confessed to her. The thought of it, of her taking control like this, made him hard. He nodded, letting her push his robes from his shoulders. They pooled at his feet, followed by his trousers and pants until he stood completely naked, the firelight warming his skin.
“Good,” Ginny purred. She drew her wand.
Ginny's wand flicks with precision, suspending Harry's naked body in midair as shimmering magical restraints spread his legs obscenely wide. A gasp caught in his throat. The spell wasn't painful, but it was utterly inescapable, holding him spread-eagle and vulnerable in the center of the room. Every muscle was on display, every secret part of him exposed. His cock, thick and fully erect, jutted out from his body, betraying any attempt at nonchalance.
“Fuck, Ginny,” he breathed, his hips giving an involuntary jerk against the magical bonds.
She just smiled, circling him like a predator. “I know.” Her fingers trailed up the inside of his thigh, so close, but not touching where he needed it most. The anticipation was a live wire under his skin. He was so focused on her, on the building pressure in his groin, that the sound of the door unlatching was like a crack of thunder.
His head snapped toward it. No. She couldn’t have.
The door opened to reveal Hermione and Luna, both wearing strap-ons dripping with lube. Hermione’s was a sleek, black silicone, while Luna’s was a shimmering, pearlescent pink. They stood there for a moment, fully clothed, just looking at him. Hermione’s expression was one of clinical curiosity, a faint smirk on her lips. Luna’s gaze was dreamy, fixated lower on his body.
Harry’s face flooded with heat. “Ginny, what the hell?”
Ginny just chuckled, moving behind him. He couldn’t see her, could only feel her presence. Then he felt the cool, slick press of her fingers against his most private place. He flinched, the sensation foreign and intense.
'Oh Harry,' Ginny purred while two fingers push knuckle-deep into his exposed hole, 'didn't I promise you'd get fucked properly tonight?'
He cried out, a strangled sound of pure shock and overwhelming stimulation. His body arched against the restraints, his cock leaking onto his stomach. It was too much. The invasion, the audience, the sheer, shocking reality of it.
“He’s very tense,” Ginny commented casually to the others, her fingers working deeper, stretching him. “We’ll have to fix that.”
Hermione stepped forward, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. She stopped in front of him, her eyes roaming over his naked, bound form without a trace of the embarrassment he was drowning in.
“Hello, Harry,” she said, her voice calm and clear. She reached out and gave his erect cock a sharp, stinging slap with her fingers.
“Ah! Hermione!” he yelped, the pain a bright, sharp counterpoint to the deep, internal pressure Ginny was creating.
“Just seeing if he’s responsive,” Hermione said, a sly grin finally breaking through her composed facade. “Seems he is.”
Luna drifted closer, her head tilted. “Your balls look very full, Harry,” she remarked, as if commenting on the weather. Before he could process her words, her delicate hand darted out and she gave them a firm, proprietary tug.
“Jesus Christ!” he gasped, his whole body jolting. It wasn’t painful, not exactly, but it was a profound and bizarre violation that sent another confusing jolt of arousal through him.
“Luna has an obsession, I’m afraid,” Ginny said from behind him, her voice laced with amusement. She was pumping her fingers in and out now, a steady, slick rhythm that was making him lose his mind. “She’s been wanting to do that for ages.”
“They’re very nicely shaped,” Luna added, her grip gentle but persistent.
Hermione gave his cock another, softer slap, watching it bob. “You know, I rather like this. I get to see the famous Harry Potter in all his glory, and you’ll never, ever get to see me naked. Seems a fair trade.”
Humiliation burned through him, hot and bright. This was his fantasy, but he’d imagined being with Ginny, of being the one in control even as he submitted. This was different. This was three women he knew intimately, studying him, playing with him, reducing him to a bound, moaning object. The power had shifted completely, and he was utterly at their mercy.
Ginny withdrew her fingers with a wet pop. The sudden emptiness was agonizing. “I think he’s ready,” she announced.
He watched, heart hammering against his ribs, as Ginny moved to a table and picked up her own strap-on, a deep, wine-red color. She fastened it around her hips with practiced ease. The three of them stood before him now, a wall of women and silicone, all glistening with lube.
“Who wants to go first?” Ginny asked, her eyes locked on his.
Harry’s breath hitched. The reality of what was about to happen crashed down on him. He was completely vulnerable, completely exposed, and he was about to be fucked by three witches he called his best friend and his girlfriend. The fear was a cold knot in his stomach, but the anticipation, the raw, filthy thrill of it, was an inferno. He was utterly, terrifyingly hard.
Luna raised her hand, a serene smile on her face. “I’d like to. I’ve already acquainted myself with the foundations.”
Luna’s serene smile never wavered as she stepped forward, the pearlescent pink strap-on glistening under the firelight. The magical restraints held Harry firm, his breath coming in shallow pants. He could feel the cool air of the room on his damp skin, a stark contrast to the heat coiling in his gut.
“The foundations are indeed very important,” Luna murmured, her dreamy voice a bizarre counterpoint to the obscene reality of the situation. Her gaze was fixed not on his face, but lower.
Her delicate, almost ethereal hand, so at odds with the brutal intention of the moment, reached out. Her fingers, cool and sure, closed around his scrotum, not in a tentative brush, but in a firm, possessive grip. LUNA GRABS HIS BALLS. She held the entire weight of them in her palm, a gentle but unyielding pressure that made him gasp. It was a grounding, profoundly intimate violation.
“There,” she said, as if soothing a nervous animal. “Now you’re anchored.”
With her other hand, she guided the slick, silicone tip of the strap-on to his entrance. Harry’s eyes widened, his muscles tensing instinctively against the bonds. He was completely exposed to her, held open by Ginny’s spell and now held firm by Luna’s grip on his most vulnerable flesh. The dual sensation was overwhelming—the deep, internal memory of Ginny’s fingers and the shocking, external possession by Luna.
“Just relax, Harry,” Hermione advised from the sidelines, her tone cool and analytical. “Fighting it will only increase tissue friction.”
He wanted to snap at her, to tell them all to stop, but the words died in his throat, replaced by a choked groan as Luna pushed forward. The initial pressure was immense, a burning, stretching fullness that stole his breath. His knuckles were white where his hands were magically bound above his head.
Luna leaned in, her silvery-blonde hair brushing his cheek. “You’re taking it so well,” she whispered, her voice full of genuine wonder. Then she drove her hips forward, sheathing the entire length inside him with one smooth, relentless motion.
“Fuck!” The curse was torn from him, raw and guttural. His back arched, his cock twitching violently. It was an invasion, a complete and utter claiming. She began to move, a slow, deep rhythm that was both punishing and hypnotic. Each thrust was accentuated by the subtle tug of her hand on his balls, a constant, reminding pressure that he was utterly in her control.
“See?” Ginny said, her voice thick with arousal as she watched from behind Luna. “I told you he could take it.”
Harry could only moan, his head thrown back, the world narrowing to the feeling of being filled, stretched, and owned. The fire crackled, casting their moving, joined shadows against the wall—a tableau of his deepest, most secret fantasy twisted into a reality far more humiliating and intense than he had ever imagined.
The fire crackled, casting their moving, joined shadows against the wall—a tableau of his deepest, most secret fantasy twisted into a reality far more humiliating and intense than he had ever imagined. Luna’s rhythm was steady, deep, each thrust a gentle but insistent claiming that made his toes curl. Her soft, humming breaths were a stark contrast to the filthy, wet sounds filling the room.
“I think he’s close,” Luna announced dreamily, her eyes wide as she watched his face contort.
“Already?” Hermione’s voice cut through the haze, crisp and disapproving. She stepped forward, placing a hand on Luna’s shoulder. “My turn. He’s not getting off that easy.”
Luna withdrew from him with a soft, slick pop, leaving him feeling gaping and empty. She drifted back, a serene smile on her face as she wiped her strap-on with a conjured cloth.
HERMIONE TAKES OVER.
She moved into the space Luna had vacated, her gaze analytical and sharp. She didn’t circle him like Ginny or touch him with Luna’s bizarre familiarity. She just stood there, fully dressed, and looked him over as if he were a complex arithmancy equation.
“You’re a mess, Potter,” she stated, her eyes tracing the sheen of sweat on his chest, the desperate, twitching line of his cock. She reached out and didn’t caress, but tapped the head of his erection with her fingernail. A sharp, stinging sensation that made him jolt. “All this fuss. You wanted this. Now you have to perform.”
She unfastened the black strap-on from her hips with efficient, businesslike movements. For a heart-stopping moment, Harry thought she was leaving, that her part in this was some cruel joke. But she merely held it up, examining the glistening tip.
“This one’s too… predictable,” she declared, setting it aside on the table. She drew her wand. “Gemino.”
A second, identical black strap-on appeared in her hand. She held them both, one in each hand, their slick, dark lengths gleaming in the firelight. A cold dread, mixed with a terrifying pulse of arousal, shot through him.
“Ginny,” Hermione said, not taking her eyes off Harry’s horrified face. “The spell. A little higher, I think. And widen the stance.”
Ginny chuckled and gave her wand a subtle flick. The magical restraints tightened, pulling his legs even further apart, lifting his hips and presenting him obscenely. He was completely helpless, his body offered up to her will.
“No… Hermione, wait—” he choked out.
“Wait for what?” she asked, her voice dangerously calm. “You wanted to be fucked. We’re fucking you. Now, be quiet and take it.”
She didn’t bother with a slow, teasing entrance. She lined up both tips at his stretched, waiting hole. The pressure was immense, unbelievable. He cried out, a raw, ragged sound, as she pushed. It was a brutal, stretching burn, a feeling of being split open. He could feel every inch of both silicone shafts forcing their way inside him, filling him beyond what he thought was possible.
“Merlin… fuck….” he gasped, his vision spotting. The full, aching pressure was unbearable, a constant, overwhelming presence deep in his core.
Hermione began to move, a short, punishing rhythm. The twin cocks slid against each other inside him, a bizarre and overwhelming friction. She leaned close, her breath hot against his ear.
“You see this, Harry?” she whispered, her voice low and intense. “This is what you asked for. This is your fantasy. And I’m the one giving it to you. Look at me.”
His eyes, bleary with overwhelmed sensation, met hers. They were dark and focused, utterly in control. She owned this moment. She owned him.
“You’ll remember this,” she said, driving into him harder, making him grunt. “You’ll remember which one of us really took you apart.”
Hermione’s words weren’t a question; they were a curse seared into his skin. She established a brutal, piston-like rhythm, the twin cocks a relentless invasion that stole the air from his lungs. Each thrust was a lesson in surrender, a shove deeper into a well of sensation so overwhelming he could no longer form coherent thought.
Then Luna was there again, a whimsical ghost at the edge of his vision. Her cool, slender fingers found his scrotum, which was drawn tight and aching with need. She didn’t just hold them; she began to play. Her fingers rolled and gently squeezed his balls, a soft, rhythmic pressure that was both soothing and intensely stimulating. It was a bizarre counterpoint to the violent claiming happening just inches away.
“They’re like little snitches,” Luna murmured, her voice full of wonder as she cupped his sac. “Trying to hide, but I’ve caught them.”
The dual sensation was maddening. Hermione’s deep, punishing strokes and Luna’s delicate, possessive fondling sent conflicting signals through his nervous system, overloading it. He was moaning constantly now, a low, helpless sound that was part plea, part pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
Ginny finally stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the fireplace. She leaned against the table, arms crossed, watching him with a fiery, possessive amusement. Her eyes drank in the sight of him: bound, impaled on one friend’s cocks while another fondled his balls, his own cock leaking pathetically onto his stomach.
“Look at you,” Ginny said, her voice a low, purring tease. “The great Harry Potter. Savior of the wizarding world. Used like a common toy. Does it feel good, Harry? Being our little party favor?”
He couldn’t answer. He could only groan, his hips trying to fuck back onto the cocks inside him and push into Luna’s hand at the same time.
“I asked you a question,” Ginny pressed, stepping closer. She ran a single, sharp nail from the base of his cock to the tip, making him shudder violently. “Does it feel good to be used by the three of us? To know we can do whatever we want to you and you’ll just take it? That you’ll beg for more?”
“Yes…” he gasped, the admission torn from him. Shame burned through the pleasure, but it only seemed to fuel the fire. “Fuck, yes…”
“He likes being our toy,” Luna announced cheerfully, giving his balls a particularly firm tug that made his eyes roll back.
“Of course he does,” Hermione grunted, her rhythm never faltering, her breath coming in sharp huffs. “He’s been craving this. Needing to be put in his place.”
Ginny’s smile was victorious. She placed her hands on her hips, right above the wine-red strap-on she still wore, a promise of what was still to come. “And we’re not nearly done with you yet.”
“And we’re not nearly done with you yet.”
Ginny’s words hung in the air, a promise and a threat. She pushed off the table, her movements fluid and confident. With a flick of her wand, Hermione’s twin cocks vanished from inside him with a wet, sucking pop that echoed in the sudden silence of the room. Harry gasped at the sudden emptiness, his body clenching around nothing, a hollow, aching void.
“My turn,” Ginny said, her voice low and smoky. She stepped behind him, her hands running possessively over his ass, squeezing the muscles there. “You’ve been stretched out so nicely for me. All ready.”
Hermione, breathing heavily, stepped back and leaned against the wall, a sheen of sweat on her brow. She watched with dark, satisfied eyes as she roughly wiped her hands on a towel. Luna, however, didn’t move. Her dreamy focus remained fixed between his legs.
GINNY TAKES OVER.
He felt the blunt, slick pressure of Ginny’s wine-red strap-on nudge against his overstimulated entrance. She didn’t hesitate. She drove into him with a single, powerful thrust that buried her to the hilt. Harry screamed, a raw, broken sound. It was different from Hermione’s clinical punishment. This was familiar, passionate, and it tore through him with the force of a lightning strike. She set a punishing, deep rhythm immediately, each thrust jarring his entire suspended body, the sound of her hips slapping against his flesh a brutal metronome.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Ginny grunted in his ear, her breath hot. “To be my fucktoy? To have me use this perfect, tight arse whenever I want?”
He could only nod, choking on his own moans.
LUNA GET ROUGHER WITH HIS BALLS.
As Ginny pounded into him, Luna’s gentle fondling turned decisive. Her delicate fingers tightened, not just holding, but pulling. She tugged his scrotum down and away from his body, a sharp, insistent pressure that bordered on pain. The gentle roll became a rough kneading, her small hands working his balls with a startling force, stretching the skin, making him acutely aware of every fragile cord and sensitive sphere.
“They’re so responsive,” Luna commented, her voice still airy despite the rough treatment. She gave a particularly hard yank, and Harry saw stars, his back arching violently against the restraints. “Like little stress relievers.”
HERMIONE PLAYS WITH HIS DICK ROUGHLY.
Hermione pushed off the wall. She approached his front, her expression one of cool, detached curiosity. She looked at his cock, which was painfully hard and dripping onto his stomach. She didn’t stroke it. She wrapped her hand around the shaft, her grip tight and unyielding, and began to jerk him with fast, rough, almost abrasive motions. There was no lubricant, no tenderness, just the ruthless friction of her palm against his sensitive skin.
“Look at him,” Hermione said to Ginny, her voice clinical as her hand worked him ruthlessly. “Completely gone. Just a body reacting. No famous hero here. Just a set of holes and a hard-on.”
The combination was devastating. Ginny’s deep, claiming thrusts shook his core. Luna’s rough, pulling hands on his balls sent jolts of sharp, bright sensation straight to his brain. Hermione’s rough, dry hand on his cock was a friction fire, pushing him rapidly towards an inevitable, shattering climax. He was babbling, a stream of please and yes and fuck and their names, his world reduced to these three points of overwhelming contact.
“I’m gonna… I can’t…” he gasped, his body tensing like a bowstring.
“Come,” Ginny commanded into his ear, her voice a harsh, guttural order as she slammed into him one final time, holding herself deep.
Hermione gave his cock two last, brutal, twisting pulls.
Luna tugged his balls down with all her strength.
The orgasm ripped through him, violent and uncontrollable. It wasn’t a release; it was an seizure of pure sensation. Thick ropes of come shot across his stomach and chest, his body convulsing so hard the magical bonds shimmered, straining to hold him. A broken, endless groan was torn from his throat as he emptied himself, completely spent, utterly owned.
For a moment, the only sounds were the crackling fire and his own ragged, sobbing breaths. Ginny slowly pulled out of him. Hermione released his spent cock with a final, dismissive pat. Luna finally let go of his balls, giving them one last, proprietary squeeze.
He hung there, suspended and wrecked, dripping with sweat and come, feeling the cool air hit the wet, used places they had left behind. Ginny walked around to face him, wiping her brow. She looked him up and down, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across her face.
“Now,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “That was just the first round.”