Harriet Hotter and the Sorcerer's Bone Ch.7
by Couture
email: couture_writes@hotmail.com
(Ff, humil, etc.)
Please do not read if under 18 years of age or
offended by sexually explicit stories and situations.
(c) 2002 Couture
***********
The only problem was . . . Harriet didn't like it at
Frogwart's. During her magic classes, she couldn't so
much as summon the easiest magic. The teachers almost
seemed frantic for her to perform some feat.
"Come on Harriet, you can do it. You summoned an
earthquake, surely you can summon a bit of fire,"
urged Morganna.
Harriet stared at the match stick with her brow
furrowed in concentration. She pointed her wand and
recited the incantation, while imagining the stick
bursting in flames. Nothing happened. Nothing ever
happened. The only thing that happened was that she
grew embarrassed. Not so much from the fact that the
match didn't light. That she could handle. After
all, she was quite certain she wasn't a witch.
The problem was - well, Harriet wasn't really sure
exactly what the problem was, but she suspected it was
the wand they had given her. Oh, sure they said it
had chosen her, but she didn't believe it for a
minute. It was just some cruel joke they were playing
with her.
Every witch's wand was different, but they were mostly
similar. They were usually made of wood or ivory,
around one and half foot in length, and a little
bigger around than a pencil. However, Harriet's wand
was an exception. It wasn't elegant at all. It was
fat with a rounded end. It reminded her of -- she
blushed to think about it - her Aunt's dildo. The
dildo Chloe had used on her, before she was kidnapped
and taken to this horrid school.
The other girls always made fun of her every time she
pointed that stupid wand and tried to weave a spell.
Worse, whenever she did, she could feel herself flush
with arousal.
Harriet groaned with her frustration. "I can't do it,
damn it. I'm not a witch and I never will be. I just
want to go back home." It was frustrating. She
wondered why they wouldn't listen and why they
wouldn't let her go back home to Chloe.
"Well, you can try again tomorrow, Harriet" said
Madame Bartinova. "Okay, Heather, why don't you come
up and levitate this desk."
Harriet sat at her desk and daydreamed about living
back at home with Chloe, while Heather attempted to
levitate the desk.
Heather made the necessary words and motions and the
desk began to rise with her wand. When the desk got
about 2 feet off the ground it hesitated and vibrated.
The vibrations the vibrations grew in strength until
the desk upended itself and crashed to the floor.
Madame Bartinova winced at Heather's performance.
"For homework, everyone needs to practice their spells
so you can do a better job than you did today." She
pointed her wand, spun the desk around and placed it
firmly on its legs again.
'Damn it!' thought Heather. 'I should have been able
to do that. It's that damn Mud Witch's fault. Ever
since they put her in my room, I haven't been able to
sleep or concentrate. Every night it's the same old
thing. She goes to bed and then starts to cry. The
next thing you know, she's breathing heavy and the bed
starts squeaking. Oh Chloe! Oh Chloe! It's
disgusting. How can I be expected to function with
such perversions going on? Then, when I asked to be
moved away from the little dyke, Madame Morganna
denied my request. Well, there's more than one way to
get a dorm by myself.' Heather grinned an evil grin
and hurried off to start trouble for Harriet.
'Hee-hee, this is going to be perfect - just perfect
to fix that little mud bitch,' thought Heather, as she
murmured some incantations while she attempted to cast
a spell much out of her range on an object on the
table. She felt her nipples harden in anticipation of
her new roommate's embarrassment.
"And just what do you think you are doing girl?" asked
Madame Hilda.
Heather quickly turned around hiding something behind
her back. "Nothing," she replied, while her eyes
darted frantically.
"Really?" Madame Hilda tilted Heathers head up with
her wand and then traced along her breast to her arm.
"What's behind your back girl?"
Heather blushed and brought her closed fist in front
of her. "It's only my . . . panties," she said,
opening her hand.
Madame Hilda gave her a stern look. "Put them on."
"What?"
"You heard me girl. Put them on. *Now*."
Heather couldn't believe this was happening and it was
all that damn Harriet's fault- the Mud witch. 'Damn
it, there's nothing to do but do what she wants.'
Heather blushed furiously and reached up under her
robe and pulled her panties off. To her horror, she
discovered they were slightly damp. She was aroused
thinking of her wicked plan. 'This is not how this is
supposed to go at all,' she thought.
Madame Hilda pointed her wand at her. Heather closed
her eyes expecting the worse. She felt chill bumps
from fear, but didn't receive the expected lashing.
When she opened her eyes, she squealed. She was
naked!
"You'll get them back when we are finished here. Now
put them on." Madame Hilda handed Heather the
panties, Heather had attempted to enchant earlier.
Heather gulped and slowly stepped into the panties.
She took particular care to pull them up slowly - very
slowly so as not to disturb them. However, when the
silken garment made contact with her downy fur, they
twitched. Then they struggled against her as if they
were afraid to make contact with her virginal bush. A
mouth formed in the fabric and bit the poor girl on
her clit.
"Ouch!" Heather screamed, letting go of the panties,
which quickly scurried down her legs and huddled in
the corner.
Madame Hilda pointed her wand at them and vaporized
them in a puff of smoke. "Really dear, maybe you
should go get a potion from Madam Warren for your
feminine odor."
Heather blushed in response and began to cry.
"Now tell me exactly what you were doing and why."
Heather told Madame Hilda all about what was happening
with the new girl and her midnight antics were
affecting her school work. She continued on in more
detail as the older woman nodded her head in sympathy.
"Oh you poor dear," Madame Hilda said when Heather was
finished. She reached in her bag and pulled out two
knitting needles. "First of all, you shouldn't try to
magic objects. You're to wear the white and whites
leave the magicking of objects to reds."
"B-but," stuttered Heather. "I don't know what robe
I'm to wear."
"Girl, you have no artistic ability whatsoever, so you
are definitely not to wear the red and you avoid
conflict too much to wear the black."
"But Madame, you wear the white."
Hilda's blue eyes flashed in warning, though her face
remained a stoic mask. "Just because I avoid conflict
doesn't mean I can't hold my own against the red or
the black. Here, get up on the stool girl," she said
as a stool slid magically toward Heather from across
the room.
Heather stared at it in fear. She wondered what Hilda
had in store for her.
"Up girl. I won't ask again."
Heather stood up on the stool. It was bad enough to
be standing in front of a teacher naked, much less to
do so and be visible aroused. She tried to cover her
nakedness, only to have Hilda spank her hands with the
wand.
"Much better," Hilda told the blushing girl. "Now
tell me, are you a virgin?"
"Ah-ah-ah-y-yes," stuttered Heather.
"Never mind, I'll check it myself." Hilda ran a
finger through the dark brown hair of Heather's sex,
before experimentally poking a finger at her tight
opening. She frowned and stuck the finger all to her
joint without meeting resistance. "I see you are a
true blonde, about as much as you are a true virgin."
Tears welled in the young girl's eyes. "I-I-I only
did it with ah-myself," she cried.
"Well, I guess that'll do for this purpose. Tell me
Heather, would you like me to help you devise a prank
for the Wilding? The best prank ever?"
Heather's answer was quick. "Yes." She wanted the
new girl to suffer at least as much as she had at the
hands of Madame Hilda.
"That's my girl," said Madame Hilda. She dug in her
satchel and pulled out a large bowl that was larger
than the bag itself and two knitting needles.
Madame Hilda handed Heather the bowl. "Here, hold
this and place your and over it like so." Then, while
Heather held her hand palm up over the bowl, Hilda
quickly slashed her smooth skin with the sharp needle.
"Oh-god-oh-god," Heather repeated. Her stomach grew
queasy at the sight of her own blood.
Hilda placed Heather's wand in her mouth. "Close your
mouth girl, before a harpy flies in."
Heather held onto her wand with her lips and teeth.
It felt reassuring to have her wand back, even though
she was sure she was no match for Madame Hilda.
"Now, concentrate on healing your hand, while I make
some magick for your little roommate."
Heather's eyes narrowed in concentration, as she
attempted to heal the wound on her hand. She was at a
disadvantage because the wand was in her mouth and she
couldn't utter the proper incantations, but she could
see that the bleeding was starting to slow.
Meanwhile, Madame Hilda dipped the tips of her needles
in the blood-filled bowl. Then she set to work
knitting an invisible garment over the girl's crotch.
At first, Heather was only aware of the pain in her
bleeding hand, but she began to feel a warming-an
aching in her sex. Soon the warming grew into a
feeling of pure pleasure and her hips began to hump of
their own volition. It felt as if she were being
licked by hundreds of tongues in her most intimate of
places. "Ehhhmmmm . . ." she gasped.
Hilda hurried at her task, her hands blurring as they
knitted. "Concentrate on the pain girl, don't you
dare lose control," she warned.
Heather tried to think about the cut -- about the
pain, but soon the pleasure in her sex overwhelmed
everything else. It felt like her cunt was boiling
with pleasure and the pressure was too much for her to
contain. It was more pleasure than she had ever felt
before, even more potent than her first orgasm.
When it burst forth, Heather was only vaguely aware of
what was going on. In fact, she could see her body
below her as if she hovered above herself. Her body
looked almost possessed as it bucked and squirmed on
top of the stool. Her thighs shown from her sexual
secretions leaking from her sex.
"Ugh-ugh-ugh-ugh," her body grunted, as her hips
bucked lewdly.
Madame Hilda quickly tied off the ends of the spell
she was weaving, and Heather felt herself snatched
back into her body. Instantly, her need overtook her.
"Please," she groaned in a long wail. There was no
orgasm. It had just dissipated into nothingness.
The bowl dropped from her hand, but Hilda's quick
hands were there to catch it. She carefully placed it
upright into her satchel. Then she licked the
remainder of the blood from the needles, before
placing them inside as well.
"All done girl. You can get down now." Madame Hilda,
helped support the poor girl as she collapsed from the
stool. She quickly healed the cut on Heather's hand.
No trace of the wound remained.
"Please," Heather begged. She was no longer turned
on, but she felt the absence of the wonderful orgasm
that disappeared sorely. She touched her nipple and
then her sex, but there was nothing. She was numb -
bereft of pleasure.
"That will do you no good. It's gone." Madame Hilda
held something between her fingers. It was invisible,
yet occasionally when she moved, the air was disturbed
as it is when heat moves off a hot object.
Heather caught sight of it. "What is it?"
"It's a spell stupid. I've caught your orgasm and
imprisoned it in this spell. When you put this on
Harriet, she will experience the sexual pleasure you
felt, but she will be unable to climax."
A shudder ran through the young student. The little
mud bitch was going to pay for the problems she had
caused, but she had one very strong reservation.
"But will-I-will-I be able to . . .ah-you know?"
Madame Hilda smiled knowingly at the girl's
embarrassment. "Of course you will be able to orgasm,
but it will probably be tomorrow before you are strong
enough to."
Heather rubbed her hands together in anticipation.
"God, this is going to be so great. What do I do?"
"Well, you just hold on to the spell real tight."
Madame Hilda handed the invisible panties to Heather.
Heather couldn't see them, but when her fingers
closed, she felt a tingling in her fingertips.
"Then, you lay it on top of Harriet's panties and
press it in real good. When she puts them on, the
spell will be transferred to her." Madame Hilda
cocked her head to the side and stared into space for
a few seconds and then a smile broke across her
impassive face. "Yes, that will do very well."
She took her wand and made a few more incantations
over the invisible panties. "Now I've enchanted them
so that whenever she hears a filthy word or her own
name, she will get more and more turned on."
Heather giggled, while Hilda cackled at this new
twist. They young student walked toward the door, she
was eager to pull her prank.
"Forgetting something, girl?"
Heather looked down and blushed. She was still naked.
"Hold your hands up."
Heather obeyed, and Hilda pointed her wand at
Heather's clothes. Her undergarments and robe
magically floated over and soon the student was
dressed. Finally, Hilda pointed the wand at Heather's
forehead.
"Close your eyes Heather. When you open them back up
again, you will not tell anyone a word of this . . .
In fact, this was all your idea. I was never here."
Heather opened her eyes and blinked a few times to
clear her vision. Hilda was nowhere to be found and
all that Heather remembered was coming up with the
most wonderful spell to use for her practical joke.
She finally felt like a witch -- a powerful witch,
after creating such a complicated spell. She tried to
remember how she created it, but her mind grew foggy
when she tried to remember the incantation. "Oh
bugger it, it doesn't matter how I did it, only that I
did do it."
She hurried to her dorm room and found Harriet's
clothes lying on the dresser. 'This is going to be so
easy,' she thought. 'The mud bitch neat freak always
leaves out the clothes she is going to wear to bed.'
Sure enough, Harriet had left her pajamas and panties
on the dresser. Heather placed the magical spell on
top of the panties and pressed them in. "You're mine
now, bitch," she giggled as she went over to her bed
waited for Harriet to arrive.
To be continued . . .
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