章 13: Stalker
Chapter 13. Stalker
The Gryffindor seventh-year girls' dormitory is dead silent. All five of its occupants are deep in slumber, each in various states of undress. The dorm would be pitch-black if not for the three large windows of the tower, through which moonlight floods in, illuminating the entire room with its soft, silver glow. It is not bright enough to be jarring or disturb anyone's sleep, but it is bright enough to allow clear visibility.
Farthest to the right, near one window, in an identical poster bed, sleeps Rose Evans. Her burgundy curtains, like everyone else's, are open, which is common; the girls here are not self-conscious about their semi-nakedness after having been together for years. At this point, they are practically sisters, too comfortable with one another to get flustered about nudity.
Rose lies on her stomach with her hands tucked under her. Her back is bare, and a single ridge cuts through its centre, marking the line of her spine. Her back curves up slightly and widens at the sides as it meets her waist, before flowing seamlessly into her plump bottom. She is wearing plain blue cotton underwear that offers more coverage than a thong but less than briefs. Her arse cheeks are round, plentiful, and shapely, barely constrained within the confines of the thin fabric. Her ample butt transitions to thick, pale thighs as it flows downward.
Her legs are exposed, the blanket thrown aside, unwittingly giving the stalker joy.
The stalker remains in position, waiting for her to turn around and reveal her renowned breasts.
It is a widely accepted fact that Rose Evans is the most beautiful girl in the castle, their own Helen of Troy. With her seductive hourglass figure and large, voluptuous bust, it's no surprise that she's the most sought after too. Not that anyone has been successful in wooing her yet. All proposals have been met with a resounding no, crushing many hearts and turning many admirers into haters.
But where many achieved nothing, not even a chance to hold hands with the said girl, the stalker is drowning in ecstasy.
Rose turns with a drowsy murmur when she feels a light brush on her thigh. She lies on her back now, finally displaying her huge, bouncy breasts to the stalker. They are big domes of pale flesh, with small, pink areolas at the centre. Her nipples are hard nubs, breathtakingly perfect, begging to be sucked and pinched. Her pillowy flesh jiggles slightly as she finds a comfortable position to sleep in, unaware and vulnerable to the stalker's ravenous gaze.
The stalker ogles the triangle of blue fabric on her crotch, nestled between her legs, hiding the precious treasure that most boys want.
Knowing time is of essence, the stalker finishes the task.
White cum shoots at her breasts, splattering on her shapely globes, cold and gooey. It dribbles down slowly, gathering near her underboobs.
…
Rose wakes up with a start, her chest heaving, her eyes widening when she feels the wetness. She blanches at the sight of semen on her skin, her stomach roiling in unbridled disgust, her face twisted in a horrified grimace.
She whips her head around, gasping, furiously trying to find the miscreant, but there is no one else there. She is alone in her bed, nearly naked, with a man's sperm dripping down towards her navel.
Grabbing her wand with a trembling hand, she vanishes it. Still, she doesn't feel clean enough. So she rushes to the bathroom and showers thoroughly, her angry, helpless tears mixing with the water.
This is the second night in a row where she woke up with that on her chest.
Who is doing this? Why are they doing this? And how are they doing this?
She scrubs her skin, turning it red and raw. She only stops when droplets of blood seep from the scratches.
She hates this. She wants it to stop immediately.
When she goes back to the bed, she cannot fall asleep and remains awake, waiting for the sunrise, anxious and feeling unclean.
She showers again in the morning, but it does nothing to alleviate the feeling of being stained.
~xXxXx~
I brush past Hermione as she leans on the Gryffindor table, talking to Neville in front of her.
Pausing, I linger for a second, pressing against her butt. She doesn't even turn around before elbowing me in the stomach, already knowing it's me. Winking at a confused Neville, who missed the whole interaction, I make my way out of the Great Hall.
My relationship with Hermione is still mostly a secret, though more than a few people have connected the dots and realised I'm sleeping with her too. It doesn't matter at this point, honestly. We don't even know why we kept it a secret in the first place. Not that we will suddenly announce our friends-with-benefits situation to all. That will be just weird.
Mentally shaking my head, I push those thoughts aside.
Today is Saturday. And now that I'm done with breakfast, I'm free until lunch.
I plan to spend most of it at Evans Mansion, returning to the castle only for food, to fool around with Iris, and to have sex with Hermione. Maybe even Katie if she is up for it.
My expansive house has everything I need, from a library (which I'm slowly filling) to an indoor pool. It boasts lavish bedrooms with luxurious furnishings, a serene garden ideal for peaceful strolls, a grand ballroom perfect for hosting elegant parties, and even a duelling room equipped for intense practice sessions. Not to mention the beautiful beaches on the island. Is it any wonder that I try to find reasons to stay there?
I should invite my mother and sisters too. I should tell them that we can live in a big house once the academic year ends, that Iris and Rose don't have to share a room anymore. But my greedy self wants to keep it only for myself. My personal secret space.
I know I will bring them sooner or later, but for now, I'll just enjoy my absolute privacy. And there are also my 102 clones, who are using the mansion as their training ground. It will be difficult to explain to my family why there are so many of me. And as much as I trust and love them, revealing all of my powers won't change anything. So there's no need to talk to them about it.
"Harry." My mum's voice comes from the direction of the Great Hall.
I spin around to face her, as she approaches with quick, long strides.
As usual, she is wearing flowing robes and has her crimson hair styled in a neat bun—a picture-perfect professor. She also has her square-rimmed glasses on, which give off a mildly intimidating aura that keeps the students in line. But since my perk guards my mind and soul, it doesn't work on me.
She comes to a halt before me, sporting a concerned look. With a gesture of her hand, she leads me to the nearest alcove.
Lily Evans
Level: 31
Beauty Tier: S
Seduction: 31%
Points Available: 10
Kinks: Role Playing, Monster Cocks, Rough Sex
These are the types of kinks that won't help me in seducing her. I can only use them once we are already in bed and comfortable with sex. And yes, I was shocked by her kinks. It opened my eyes and made me realise that my mum is not as pure as I imagine her to be. She is just another woman in the end, slave to her needs. I'm sure I will find a couple of monster dildos if I rummage through her drawers.
"Morning, mum."
She offers a soft smile before retaining her worried expression. "Do you know what's up with Rose? She was looking tired, and she didn't even eat much at breakfast."
I frown as I go through my memories. Yesterday, while I was taking her to Iris for the wish-granting process, she looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes. Now that I think about it, she didn't look any better this morning either.
"I don't know. I tried to ask yesterday, but she rudely shut me down."
Mum's worry only seems to grow at that. "Can I ask you to try again? I would do it myself, but I think she will play it off so as not to worry me. And Iris… well, Iris is Iris. She won't be of any help here."
A part of me is annoyed by the request. I had planned to spend my day flirting with Heather and having idle conversations with Hardwin. But it appears I have to change my schedule. I hope I can resolve Rose's problem as soon as I can, because I don't want to spend my weekends playing her babysitter.
"Of course, my lady. Your word is command to this knight. I shall save the maiden and return her beautiful smile, or else die trying." I say seriously and unironically.
…
…
She blinks at my odd phrase, understandable since I usually don't talk like this. Stepping closer, she cups the side of my face. "Are you alright, darling? Did you read too many Arthurian legends this morning?"
I feel her humour wash over me, as she tries to fight off a smile.
Lily Evans
Level: 31
Beauty Tier: S
Seduction: 31%
Points Available: 10
Kinks: Role Playing, Monster Cocks, Rough Sex
Nope, this roleplaying is different from the ones in the bedroom. It didn't raise her seduction. It didn't make her aroused, rather it made me look like a clown.
I cringe. Bloody hell, what was I even thinking? Did I really think it would work?
"Something like that. Forget this ever happened, please," I say, rubbing the back of my head.
That breaks the dam, and she bursts into laughter. It goes on for an entire minute before her chuckles peter out. She looks around discreetly, wrapping her arms around me and pressing a kiss on my cheek once she confirms no one is nearby. "Never. It's a rare treat when my too-serious son goofs up."
Am I too serious? I don't think so. But if that's the image I project in her mind, then fine. Better to be too serious than a cringey roleplayer.
"I promise to help Rose. And with my abilities, I'm sure I'll find a way to cheer her up," I reassure her, my hands loosely coiled around her waist.
She smiles and rewards me with another kiss on the cheek, a lingering one this time. "That was one of the reasons why I came to you. You have somehow become even more reliable. Only if you weren't so secretive, I would've declared you a perfect boy already."
I roll my eyes at her playful barb. "I'll take my leave before someone sees the scary Professor gushing over her son. No magical glasses will help your reputation if that happens."
She lets out a chuckle, sneaking in one more hug before walking back towards the Great Hall.
I so miss the times when she used to wear tight jeans. Watching her walk away used to be my favourite pastime. But these damn flowy robes have taken that from me. I wonder how I can really seduce her and get that robe off that S-tier body. None of my methods seems to have worked. Or at least, not quickly enough. Mum is adamant in viewing me as nothing more than a son. And I'm afraid I'll truly piss her off if I keep on touching her inappropriately in hopes to convey my desires. The few times I groped her, she flinched and glared at me before relaxing and waving off those instances as 'accidents'. There can be only so many 'accidents' until I cross her tolerance threshold.
I wish I could use my last Minor Love Pass on her and raise her seduction to the fifties. Maybe then her perception would change. But according to the rules, I can only apply one Love Pass per person.
Enough moping, something will give me a chance to change that. Until then, I should work on my sisters. And then there's Lavender too, who I will take on a date when we have the next Hogsmeade weekends.
As more students amble out of the Great Hall, I clear my head and wander off towards the Gryffindor Tower.
I find Rose lying on the sofa in the centre of the common room, occupying the entire space since most of our fellow housemates are still outside, taking advantage of the bright, sunny weather.
She looks up at the sound of my footsteps, her gaze fixed on me as I stand beside her.
She is wearing a baggy, black t-shirt and loose, woollen trousers. It's as if she is trying her hardest to look plain and unnoticeable. A wasted effort. Even with the dark bags under her eyes, she is just too eye-catching to pull that off.
"Harry," she mumbles tiredly.
I realise she hasn't tried her 'my sweet little brother' act since yesterday. Of course, I never let her finish those abominable words, but that has never stopped her before. And while I won't go as far as to say that I miss her immature shenanigans, I prefer my Rose as a playful brat rather than a morose insomniac.
She raises her legs as I sit beside her, dropping them back in my lap once I'm settled.
Rubbing her shins through the thick woollen trousers, I gaze at her intently. "What happened?"
She opens her mouth to answer before snapping it close, shaking her head. "Nothing you need to worry about."
Is it wrong to feel like slapping her? Because I definitely want to make her face turn red.
"Rosie," I say, using the fond nickname I rarely ever use. "Tell me what happened. You know I can help. Let me in."
Her eyes start watering instantly, and then her lips quiver as if she's trying to hold back tears. I'm not surprised when she sits up and throws her arms around me, hiding her face against my chest.
The few students present in the common room have the decency not to stare as she silently cries, clinging to me.
I run my palm up and down her spine, remaining quiet, letting her cry, just hugging her.
Once she calms down, she gets up and starts moving towards the boys' dormitory, her face flushed, embarrassed at breaking down in public.
Knowing she is going to the sixth-year boys' dormitory, I swiftly follow her, climbing up the stairs and entering the unoccupied large room containing five poster beds. She flops down on the edge of my bed.
I sit on Ron's, which is closest to mine, so I'm facing her. No words leave my mouth as I wait for her patiently.
"For the last three days, I have felt like someone is watching me. I feel their eyes on me various times a day. Obsessive, unfriendly, lecherous." She joins her trembling hands in her lap, lacing her fingers.
My eyes narrow at her words. "An angry stalker, huh? Who did you reject recently? That might be the person."
It's bad, but her situation isn't bad enough to warrant such a reaction. Is she blowing this out of proportion? Is she losing sleep over this? I thought she would've gotten used to it. She didn't become pretty abruptly, after all. She has been the hottest girl here for the last couple of years. And I doubt this is the first time she has felt wanton stares from boys.
"No one has attempted to ask me out this year. They all know better," she sighs, tugging at a stray red curl. "And…"
"And?"
"The stalker is somehow able to enter my dorm at night."
…
…
"Rose." My voice goes blank as the seriousness of the situation sets in.
"And they… and they… and t-they… when I wake up, there's… there's…" she is panting by this point, blurting out the words hurriedly, stuttering, her fingers having gone white with how tightly she is clutching them, "there's sperm on my chest. It happened t-two times in a row. I thought it was only one time t-thing. But now I'm scared it will happen again t-tonight."
I push off Ron's bed and sit down beside her, pulling her in my arms, trying to pacify her. "It's alright. It won't happen again. I promise."
She lays her chin on my shoulder, her grip suffocatingly tight.
I feel the familiar fire in my gut. It roars angrily, flaring into a raging inferno, reaching towards the heavens. It wants to explode and engulf everything in fire and brimstone. It wants to just consume. The last time I unleashed it, it obliterated a mountain. The last time I let it loose, I tried to choke a woman to death with my dick.
I push this anger down, not letting it affect my rationality. Now is not the right time to rampage like a mindless beast.
"Rosie," I say softly, rubbing her back. "I'm going to follow you everywhere today for your own sake. I hope you don't mind. Congratulations, you've gained a stalker to beat a stalker."
She snorts and dissolves into hysterics. She really was stressed, and for good reason too. Some arsehole had the audacity to jerk off on her—not once, but twice.
I hope I can stop myself from killing them.
~xXxXx~
Rose's mood seems to improve significantly when I'm around, and it keeps getting better the longer we're together.
Later in the morning, she dragged me to the Quidditch pitch. At first, I simply sat in the stands and watched her compete one-on-one with Cho Chang, but then she roped me into a full unofficial Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw match.
It made me realise why I never liked the sport. I barely make a decent (a crap) Keeper. If not for Rose catching the Snitch, I would have lost the game single-handedly.
In the afternoon, after lunch, Rose was content to slow down and accompany Hermione and me to the library for homework. Because of her, Katie and Leanne ended up joining us. I would have invited Iris too, but she was already there with Astoria, busy arguing with her. I decided to leave her with her new friend.
As the hours passed by and evening approached, Iris finally made her displeasure known to us.
"What is going on? Why is she with you every single minute?" Iris hisses, looming over the settee in a corner where Rose and I are seated, officially reading, but practically just cuddling, tired and exhausted, but in a good way.
"Jealous, sweet little sister?" The brat goads her, having totally forgotten about her stalker, pressing further into me. My upper left arm is wedged between her soft breasts as she tightens her hold and perches her chin atop my shoulder.
I try not to shiver as her hot breath washes over my jaw.
"I'm not talking to you, dumb cow. Shut up." Iris keeps her glare on me.
Not wanting to make this an entertaining family drama for other Gryffindors, I put up a silencing ward and shrug Rose's chin off my shoulder, ignoring her pout. "Don't provoke her. Tell her what happened."
Rose's good cheer disappears as she remembers why I'm shadowing her, and she briefly summarises the problem. I'm glad she doesn't try to hide it from Iris, as she's been doing with everyone else. Even Katie and Leanne aren't aware of what she's going through.
Iris pales the more she hears, and then a thunderous expression flashes across her face. "Let's kill whoever did this to her."
My own vengeful heart chimes in an agreement. "Right?"
"No, no," Rose interrupts quickly, "there won't be any killing. Do you nerds even know what you are saying? If we find the stalker, we will tell the professors. That's it."
"Your pacifism disgusts me." Iris says sharply, her disappointment clear on her face. "Whatever, it's not as if I'm worried about you. I just wanted to kill someone."
Both Rose and I roll our eyes together. Why is it easier for her to admit to being a psychotic killer than to accept that she's worried about her sister?
"Fine. If that's what you want." I reluctantly accept Rose's decision, who sags in relief.
This wouldn't have been my first kill, so I was quite serious about it. Those weren't just empty words; I was fully prepared for a messy murder. I wonder what that says about me.
"I guess you won't be coming to our place to tutor me as usual."
I wince at Iris' despondent words. This will be the first time I skip our evening session, and I'm just as frustrated as she is. I've grown used to spending my evenings kissing and canoodling with her. And she has even gotten decent at giving blowjobs.
"Sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you."
Iris nods and plods away, no doubt going up on the terrace, for once just to study.
"Aw, never thought Iris cared for me." Rose sighs blissfully once the grouchy one is gone, sinking into the cushioned backrest. "Do you think she'll let me pet her?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." My lips twitch. As far as I know, Iris only lets me and mum do that. Just because Iris is worried for Rose—which is quite natural—doesn't mean she has forgotten all their petty quarrels and is ready to jump in her lap to be petted like a cat.
"Some day," she mumbles wistfully, sliding off the settee, landing on her feet. "Anyways, it's time for my training. Let's go, my sweet little stalker."
I resist the temptation to kick her.
We leave the common room and climb downstairs, to the first floor, where the training room is. Once it was my 'genie-for-hire' office, but now that no one remembers that, it has been reappropriated by my sister and her friends.
I can count on one hand how many times I've joined their training and still have a few fingers left. The reason: It just gets too chaotic when I'm present. Either Leanne tries some heavy-handed flirting, annoying my sister, or Rose overdoes her spells and accidentally hurts her friends trying to impress me. Because of these various factors, I try to stay away.
Inside, I find the two hot older girls. I greet Katie with a searing kiss and roll my eyes when Leanne pulls me in her arms and pinches my arse.
The training goes as one would expect. It starts off fine, but soon Leanne starts to grind her dump truck of an arse against me as we wait near the wall while Rose and Katie duel. When both my sister and girlfriend (?) catch her in the act, we are showered in stinging spells. I weave my way through, having gotten faster when I gained one level, but Leanne falls and cries for mercy.
It is entertaining if nothing else.
"Harry, please don't come here again," Katie begs, as the three girls lie on the floor, chests rising and falling from exertion. When Leanne regained her footing, she thirsted for revenge. In the end, it escalated into an all-out war between everyone.
I kneel down before her, not as drained as them, flicking a drop of sweat from her exposed belly. "You should say that to your pervert."
"I trump you in importance." Leanne rolls on her side, propping her head on her elbow, her breasts on the verge of spilling out from her tight top. "Between us two, you are expendable."
"I'm her boyfriend, or something like that."
"I'm her best friend. Tell him who is more important to you, Kat." She sticks out her tongue as if it was a winning blow.
"That's a trap; I'm not answering that. And I need an hour-long bath after this." Katie awkwardly gets up, adjusting her crop top as sweat makes it stick to her skin, accentuating her modest curves.
"Maybe I can help." I smile, glancing down at her glistening legs, her denim shorts not covering much.
"Ew." Rose makes a face, rising to her feet too, helping Leanne up. "Not in front of me."
"Really? I seem to recall you enjoying the view of me pounding this arse." I slap Katie's backside, making her squeak and jump.
Her glare does not affect me, not when she is red as a tomato.
Rose's face lits up with a blush too. "I did not enjoy the view. I was repulsed. It was only morbid curiosity that made me keep looking. Like two dogs fucking on the street. It's embarrassing, but it's impossible not to look."
"Sure, pervert."
If not for Katie being responsible and herding us off, there would have been another war.
~xXxXx~
It's after dinner that Rose's spirit finally plummets. She gets nervous, fidgety, snapping her head at every sudden movement.
It gets so bad that others start to notice.
I grab her hand and jerk her closer, whispering in her ear. "I'm going to sneak into your dorm to keep an eye on you. Open the door at one. Okay?"
She relaxes slightly, and although she seems to have mixed feelings about this arrangement, she eventually gives a nod.
From then, it's a waiting game.
My fellow housemates slowly trickle away as midnight draws near. By twelve-thirty, the common room is empty.
I sit in one of the armchairs, skimming through a book.
Waiting is a pain when you have nothing to occupy your mind. And I'm too excited by the situation to properly process the words on the page. I drop the book in my lap and simply stare at the stairs leading to the girls' dormitory.
If I didn't trust Rose, I would say she is lying. Because throughout the day, not once did I feel a stalker's gaze on us. Mind you, it's quite possible that the stalker was busy with other things and left her alone. But an obsessive stalker, the likes of which Rose described, won't let anything come between himself and his desires.
I hope the stalker shows up tonight. Because while I enjoyed my time with Rose, I don't want to repeat this whole thing tomorrow. I deserve a Sunday off to leisurely waste time in my mansion.
The door opens, drawing my attention, and there stands Rose on the landing, dressed in nothing but a baggy, grey t-shirt and pink knickers, her crimson hair tied up in a messy ponytail.
I try not to stare at the smooth expanse of her legs and move to stand near the stairs.
Before she can ask how I'll climb the magical stairs, charmed to keep boys away, I unfurl my large, angelic white wings and give a single flap.
I fly, very briefly.
Then I land in front of her, my wings vanishing.
She is frozen in a stupor, having never seen me fly with my wings before.
I flick her on the forehead, bringing her back to attention. She rubs her head and glares at me, then gestures for me to follow her.
The girls' dormitory mirrors ours exactly. Each floor corresponds to a specific year; for instance, the first floor is designated for first-years. She leads me up a spiral staircase, and at the top floor, she quietly opens the door and slips inside.
Inside, five poster beds are arranged in a row against one wall, with three windows set into the adjacent wall, allowing moonlight to gently illuminate the room.
Before I can seize the opportunity to glance at her semi-nude roommates, she clasps my arm and hurries me along. Her bed is the rightmost one, positioned near the window.
She has closed the curtain facing her roommates and left the one near the window open.
Climbing into the bed, she lies on her side, leaving very little space. The bed is clearly made for only one person, after all.
I remove my trousers and lie down beside her on my side, facing her. Afterward, I raise a silencing ward to ensure no sound escapes the bed.
She doesn't complain about me stripping down to my t-shirt and boxers. If she did, she'd be a hypocrite.
Her chest lightly touches mine, as do her knees, and I can feel her nipples poking me. I suppose she isn't wearing a bra, which, now that I think about it, is very normal. I mean, who sleeps with a bra on?
She doesn't say anything when I place my hand around her waist and adjust a little to find a comfortable position. Her body is stiff as a board. It seems the hours spent without me have undone all my day's work.
"Weird of you to invite your stalker in your bed. But it's alright, the superior stalker will kil—I mean, tell on the creepy stalker."
She snorts, locking eyes with me. We are so close that I can feel her breath brushing against my lips. We are near enough that I can make out the intricate pattern in her green irises.
By now, most of her anxiousness has bled out.
"Are you going to stay awake until the stalker comes?" she asks, touching my face, running her fingers through my hair.
"Yes. You can go to sleep if you want. There's no need for us both to lose sleep. And you need it if the circles under your eyes are any indication."
She smiles softly, planting a kiss on my head. "Okay. Good night."
"Night."
She closes her eyes and leans against me, her hands on my chest.
I hope I don't pop a boner. That would be embarrassing.
But her large tits are flush against me. We are so close that the heat of her body is seeping into mine, like an intoxicating love potion addling my mind. I'm drowning in her scent. I'm enveloped in her warmth. I'm trying to rein in my lust that fights against the chains like a beast in heat.
She opens her eyes, quickly shutting them when they meet mine, her lips spreading into a grin.
A minute later, she peeks again, only to close them just as fast.
After another attempt, she lets out a giggle, hiding her face in the crook of my neck. Her breath tickles my skin, and her laughter vibrates softly against me.
Is she trying to be cute?
"I hope your last remaining brain cells haven't abandoned you."
She lightly pinches me on the chest.
"It's just funny that I can't sleep, and whenever I open my eyes, you're there to catch me," she says between bouts of uncontrollable laughter. She clutches my shirt, pressing closer and squashing her jiggly chest against mine. Her laughter is infectious, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she nuzzles against me, making me smile.
"I didn't know we were playing a game. And you should sleep. I'm surprised you can function after losing sleep two nights in a row."
She groans, rolling her eyes playfully. "Fine, mum, I'll turn around so I'm not tempted to open my eyes and see if you're watching."
With a dramatic sigh, she shifts to face away from me, her back pressing snugly against my chest. Her warmth radiates through the thin fabric of her t-shirt, and I can feel her breathing gradually slow as she tries to settle down.
Damn it.
I scoot my crotch back as she presses herself harder against my chest, moulding her titillating form against mine. She grabs my arms and pulls them around her, locking herself in my embrace. The back of her head tucks under my chin as she huddles in, trying to become the small spoon. Her soft, crimson hair tickles my neck, almost making me sneeze.
Usually, I would love to be pressed up against her, but knowing what she has gone through, I can't bring myself to make it sexual just yet.
She, on the other hand, seems to have no such reservations. She presses her bubbly arse firmly against my groin, grabbing my hip and tugging me closer when I try to move away again.
"Rosie, just because you're my sister doesn't mean my body won't react." I shudder in pleasure as she pulls me closer, allowing her arse to be snugly fitted on my thighs.
"Don't worry about me. I won't get uncomfortable if it's you," she assures me, not uttering a single word of protest when my erection snuggles into her knickers-clad rear. Her baggy t-shirt is bunched at her waist, leaving only a negligible pink underwear to protect her modesty.
I press a kiss on the nape of her neck, causing her to tremble. Holding her tight, her body perfectly moulded to mine, we merge together as if two distinct pieces becoming a whole. "Alright. I'm never saying no to copping a feel of a hot bum."
She pulls my hands and holds them on her squishy chest. "How about my boobs? I've seen you staring at them. Will you not say no to that either?"
I instinctively grab them over her t-shirt, my fingers sinking into the soft, malleable flesh. My cock throbs insistently, stuck between my body and her arse. "What are you trying to do?"
"It's fine. Consider it a reward for being so sweet and considerate. And I do remember promising to let you grab them for curiosity's sake when you gave me that magical bra, didn't I? I'm sorry it took so long."
Her voice is an odd mix of arousal and humour. And I don't know what she wants me to do. Am I expected to protect her, or am I meant to escalate our 'friendly' groping?
She grinds her arse on my cock, making me stiffen, making me squeeze her breasts. Her moan nearly makes me lose it. But I focus on the objective why I'm here. Still, just because there is work to be done doesn't mean I can't enjoy her offerings.
"I seem to recall the promise was to let me squeeze your bare breasts."
She laughs and nudges me off her with an elbow. "You are always so greedy."
I lie on my back and she clambers over me, straddling my lap, strategically sitting on my hard cock.
"I was just being pedantic for my benefit." I slip my hands over her biteable arse cheeks, her pink underwear failing its job to hold them in.
"Of course." She rolls her eyes, grabbing the hem of her baggy t-shirt and taking it off in a single move.
I gulp as her flawless round breasts jiggle and hang over me. The pale mounds topped with pink areolas make my brain freeze. They are large, definitely d-cups, and their shape is bewitching. I can't even find words to describe them. They are tear-shaped, but not. They are dome-shaped, but not. They are simply indescribable.
My cock pulses under her cunt, and my throat dries up.
"You sure?" I ask, which I wouldn't normally, but this is the same girl who is traumatised by a depraved stalker.
Isn't this too soon? Is she really that comfortable with me?
"I'm not fucking you, if that's what you're asking." She smirks, but her cheeks are dark with embarrassment. "You are my sweet little brother. This is just… a small way to show my gratitude. You can grab the boobs of the 'hottest girl' while she sits on you. That's it. Nothing else is happening."
"Not even a kiss?" I ask, planning to take as much as I can.
She blushes but nods. "Fine, one kiss I can spare."
"Maybe even grind your bum on me until I come?" I bite back a smile, fondling her butt.
"You're such a pervert," she scoffs, moving her arse back and forth over my covered shaft. "But alright, I can take care of my little brother's needs this one time."
"Then come here and kiss me." I slide my hands from her bountiful arse and up her spine.
She jolts a little when I pull my hands from her back and cup her breasts, each breast in a hand, my fingertips creating depressions in her bulbous flesh.
I give a squeeze and she shudders.
"Anytime now, sister dearest." I stare at her lips hungrily as I touch her breasts, as she jerks back and forth over my concealed cock.
Her face gets redder than her hair and she leans forward to allow my wish.
Lips as soft as rose petals touch mine. It's a hesitant touch, a nervous one. But with each successive touch, she gets more confident. It only takes seconds before her mouth is locked with mine. I don't know if it's her first kiss or not, because for someone who never had boyfriends, she is quite skilled as she turns her head this way and that, kissing me thoroughly from every angle. Maybe she practised with her friends. Who knows.
In the meanwhile, I rub my thumbs over her nipples, somehow making them even harder.
She moans on my mouth, prying my lips open to push her tongue in.
Does this still count as only one kiss? Not that I'm complaining.
I start rocking her on my hidden cock, my one hand leaving her breast to hold her arse cheek and create more friction.
She breaks the kiss and pants on my face, bracing herself on her hands on either side of me. I can feel her heartbeat as I keep kneading her left breast, pressing my thumb down on her nipple.
Our eyes meet and she increases the intensity, grinding her arse harder, sliding it back and forth faster.
I activate my [Touch] skill, and her pupils widen as a gasp escapes her lips.
Abandoning her breasts entirely, letting them shake and oscillate over me, I grab her arse cheeks with both hands and help her move even faster.
Our mingling heat turns sweltering, my fingers slip in and wedge into her cleft, and her moans mix and compliment my heavy breathing.
Only my boxers and her knickers are keeping us sane. If we were doing it without any barriers, I'm sure I would already be inside her. And the way she is moaning, I don't think she would've put up much of a fight.
The pressure reaches its tipping point and I look in her eyes and grunt, using [Orgasm Control] to help her out too.
We both finish together, gasping, breathless.
There are wet spots on our underwear where our cores are in contact.
She topples on top of me, burying her face in my neck, overwhelming me with her scent, and I wrap my arms around her waist, placing my palms over her exposed cheeks.
We remain silent for a minute before she falls to the side and faces me.
I roll on my side too, staring at her as she cycles though a multitude of expressions before settling on resignation. "That was fun. Though I don't think we should have done that."
"You were the one who started," I remind her, not scooting closer to cuddle her like I want to, letting her come to terms with it instead.
She nods with a sigh. "True. I guess I didn't realise how pent up I was, and with the added stress of the stalker, my head is a mess right now."
"It's alright. I don't expect you to confess your undying love for me. But just give this—" I gesture between us, "some more thought. I wouldn't mind having my attractive sister all to myself."
She shoots me an eyeroll. "Of course, you won't, pervert."
"May I remind you of your voyeuristic tendencies, pervert? Not to mention that it was you who initiated this."
Before she can continue the banter, her body stills. "There's someone here. Watching us. I can feel it."
Immediately, I roll off the bed and stand up while she covers herself with a blanket.
I look around, finding no one. "There's no—"
A spider.
I catch a glimpse of a large spider the size of my fist slipping under the bed.
Dropping to knees with my wand in hand, I look under the bed, whispering a lighting charm.
For a moment, I see nothing. Then, I spot another spider scuttling away, but this one is much smaller. It is barely the size of my pinkie nail.
With a deft move, I fling my hand and grab it, caging it between my fingers.
"What is it?" Rose asks, still covering her chest with the blanket.
I use [Bolt] with very little power, and the squirming spider stops moving.
Sitting on her bed, I open my palm, and the small spider grows to take the entirety of my palm.
It is made of metal and plastic. Its two eyes are camera lenses, and over its back is a syringe-like construct filled with white, gooey liquid.
We both stare at it dubiously.
"Here is my hypothesis. Some genius arsehole made this. He sent it to spy on you, using you as a masturbation aid. And when he is done looking at you , he triggers this syringe to spray the stored sperm," I say blankly.
Rose is staring at it in incomprehension. "Doesn't magic mess with electricity?"
I open the hatch that acts as the stomach of the spider. Inside is a glowing golden gel in the shape of a cell. "The stalker is genius enough to make it run on magic. I didn't even know we could push out our magic to make this gel-like thing."
She sighs, pulling on her messy ponytail, her eyes downcast. "We will never know who the stalker is. He will be more careful now. He might change targets and harass some other girl."
"Such innovation, just to jerk off. I don't know if I should laugh or not."
Rose doesn't say anything, falling on the bed limply, anger and hopelessness clear in her posture.
It won't be impossible to find the culprit. There aren't many such geniuses in the castle, after all. But it will be difficult and time-consuming.
Maybe I can do something about it. Though it may or may not work.
My [See] skill only gives me information on sentient beings, not lifeless objects.
But with the help of 'Vial of Duralumin', I think there's a chance it can work.
I draw the power pooled in my gut. Since I drink it every morning as a safety net to use in times of emergency, I don't actually need to take it out and gulp it in front of Rose.
Then I select the skill I want to enhance with a mere thought.
The power in my gut vanishes, and I come to know everything about the spider. From its composition in perfect percentages to its intricate functions, every detail becomes clear to me. I understand its size, weight, and blueprint with absolute certainty. And of course, this newfound knowledge also reveals the identity of its creator.
Then my [See] skill goes on a lockdown for a month, and my [Vial of Duralumin] for a week.
I don't regret it. This is to help my sister.
"I know who the stalker is. But don't spill it to the professors until tomorrow evening, okay?"
"Harry." She fixes me with a worried look. "No murder."
"Of course not. He won't have a single scratch on his body." I smile reassuringly, though that only seems to scare her.
"Okay." She sags in relief, lying down in her bed. "Finally, it's done. No more stalkers."
I take my position behind her, holding her close as she sheds a few tears.
"How about a kiss as a reward?"
She snorts and digs her elbow in my stomach. "Pervert."
Yet, she pushes me down on my back and gives me a blinding kiss, tolerating (enjoying) my greedy, wandering hands.
After receiving my reward, I prepare to leave her, but she pulls me close and begs me to sleep beside her, in case the stalker has another spider and is mad enough to try again.
I oblige.
In the early morning, before the other girls can wake up and see us in this scandalous position, I depart.
I wish I could use [See] to check on Rose's rise in seduction. But now that the skill is locked for a month, I can only guess her seduction percentage. Although since I got 2 points from our amorous activities, I'm pretty sure she is over 95%, if not 99% like Iris.
Sneaking into my dorm and lying in my bed, I use the two points.
Skill Obtained: [Faceless Men] (Rarity: Uncommon)
— Allows the user to change their appearance into anyone they have killed.
Not bad. I can use this. Though I can't currently think how I'll use this. But it's definitely a great addition to my repertoire. I'm not disappointed.
Skill Obtained: [Blessing of Incineration] (Rarity: Legendary)
— Allows the user access to unquenchable fire. It will keep burning until it consumes its fuel. Yes, that means if you throw it at someone, they will burn until they are ash, chump. Only use it if you want to kill. Note: If the enemy is too powerful compared to the user, they may overpower it and be able to extinguish it.
I think I've found a new favourite skill, a contender to my Unrelenting Force. I've been wanting an offensive skill for a while now. And my patience, at last, has been rewarded. I can only dreadfully imagine what these flames will become if enhanced with Duralumin. Not that I'm going to use it wily-nily. It's probably the most dangerous skill I possess. And I don't want to turn the planet into a charred wasteland by accident.
~xXxXx~
Nathan Miller is a seventh-year Ravenclaw. A relatively good-looking boy with many friends and a beautiful girlfriend. He is a bona fide genius, well-praised and well-liked among students and professors. None of his peers protested when he was chosen as Head Boy. Rather, they accepted their loss with familiar resignation.
On the surface, he is perfect. A kind gentleman with both brains and brawn, and a handsome face. But under that kind smile lurks a depraved soul.
He is a stalker, the one who tormented my sister.
Ambushing him was a piece of cake. Taking him to the dungeon in my pocket dimension was even easier when I put him to sleep. And chaining him against the grey stone wall was not a problem either.
I stand before him now. He is spread-eagle naked, his limbs stretched in four different sides, pinning him to the wall and forcing him to stand.
"Enervate!"
The man gasps awake, his eyes widening as he realises his situation. "Evans! What are you doing?"
"So, Mr. Stalker. I found your pet spider. Oh, yes, I know it was made by you. And no, don't even try to lie. I'll have to kill you otherwise," I say with a placid smile, summoning my Subtle Knife.
"I'm sorry. Please, we can come to a deal," he whispers, opting honesty. But there's no regret, only desperation in his voice.
"Oh? Do you have something for me?" I ask, my interest piqued.
"I know what you and your sister were doing last night. Let me go and I won't tell anyone."
…
…
"Are you a moron?" I laugh derisively, the glint of the knife's edge catching the dim light as I press it firmly against his chest, the point hovering dangerously close to his heart. His eyes widen in fear and disbelief as I continue, my voice low and mocking. "Do you honestly believe you have the upper hand here? This knife," I pause, emphasising each word, "is supposedly capable of cutting through anything. Shall I put it to the test? See if your muscles, tendons, and bones offer any resistance?"
He snaps his mount with an audible click. "Please, let me go."
"Fine, but first promise me you won't tell anyone my secret. Promise me you won't cast that dirty gaze at my sister again. Promise me you won't stalk her or use any accessories to harass her. Actually, promise me you won't do that to anyone. I don't want to list every girl I need to protect from you." With a casual brush of the knife across his chest, not even applying pressure, a single cut opens up.
It's very small, barely a scratch. Only a few drops of blood dribble out. But he screams as if I've buried the blade deep in his flesh.
I punch him, making him spit a tooth and a mouthful of blood. "Don't be dramatic or I'll give you a real reason to scream."
"I promise! I promise!" he yells.
"You promise to do all that? If you don't, will you find the nearest knife and shove it in your throat?"
"Yes!"
I smile as my [Binder] perk records his emphatic acceptance and binds his words into a contract.
"Good. Now, tell me," I demand, my voice cold and steady, "was it just you who sent the spider after my sister for your sick pleasure? Or were you and your friends in on it, enjoying yourselves together?" I press the knife under his chin, ensuring he feels its sharp edge. "Remember, Mr. Head Boy, I'll know if you lie."
"It was only me."
I don't show my relief, and move back. "Well, that was all I had to ask. Now let's get to the main show."
"What?"
I take a step forward and swipe my knife, separating his left leg above the knee. The knife doesn't find any resistance, cutting as if moving through butter.
The limb falls down with a soft thud, the ankle still attached to the manacle.
…
…
Nathan lets out a piercing scream, spasming and jerking in his restraints as blood floods out of his severed leg.
"I take your left leg because I'm annoyed," I say with a chilly smile.
With another slash, his right leg mirrors the left, falling down in the growing pool of blood. "I take your right leg because I'm furious."
Nathan is now suspended by his wrists, his legs no longer able to support his weight. His screams intensify, echoing louder as red blood gushes from the gaping stumps.
"I take your left hand because I'm vexed." With a swift strike, I severe his left hand just above the elbow, leaving it hanging while he lurches sideways, now strung up by only his right hand.
"STOP! STOP! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I'M SOR—"
I slice his right hand too, again just above the elbow. "I take your right hand because I'm angry."
With that, Nathan collapses face-first onto the floor, lying in a pool of his own blood, now limbless. His wrists are still shackled to the wall, while his severed legs remain chained nearby.
I kick him to roll him over to his back.
He is still shrieking, jerking in every direction, but he has no hands to fight and no legs to run away. All he can do is scream and make a fool of himself.
I kneel down and brush my knife over his eyes. This simple caress is enough to turn his eyeballs into a mass of gooey jellies spilling out of his sockets. "I take your eyes because you dared to see my naked sister. Well, semi-naked, but same difference."
His screams are gone, and now he is just sobbing softly, his voice becoming quieter by each passing second, as he slowly sinks into an unconscious state.
I place my knife on his crotch.
…
…
His pleas for mercy are louder than before. "PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEA—"
"I take this because you used it to stain my sister."
I swipe the blade, and it is gone, root and stem and all.
This scream even overshadows the previous one.
I clean my blade and vanish it, looking down at the pathetic man wriggling in his own blood and waste. Like a filthy worm.
"Heal." I point my finger at him, and he is whole again.
If not for the copious amounts of blood and four severed limbs, Nathan would believe it to be a nightmare.
I open the portal back to the castle with a friendly smile. "Not a scratch on you. Am I not merciful? Go on, slither away, worm. Of course, you won't share what happened here with anyone in any form, right?"
"I p-promise."
I feel my perk take that as a consent.
He puts on the clothes that I hand him, and he slowly steps though the portal that connects my mansion with an empty classroom.
His eyes are on me as he strides away, forever tortured, forever subservient.
As he steps through, I vanish the door and clean the dungeon. Now, Rose will tell the professors, and the man will either get expelled or just get detentions. No matter, I got justice for my sister by myself. I don't care about the legal circus.
Torturing him was… alright, I guess. Neither fun nor revolting.
I'm definitely not a psychopath.
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