Multiversal Cheaters, Hotwives and Cuckolds - Chapter 12 (Patreon)

Multiversal Cheaters, Hotwives and Cuckolds

Chapter 12: Reviving Kinks

Fandom: Harry Potter

Tags: Hotwife, Cuckold, Past Heartache, Voyeurism, Chastity, SPH, Teasing, Dirty Talk, Masochism, Cum-eating

Cast: Daphne Potter - Sophie Cookson (From Kingsmen, specifically)

Daphne Potter yawned in exhaustion as she, with a flick of her wand, unpacked the latest box of clothes into their new walk-in wardrobe.

Tired of living in a flat in London, Harry had demolished the ruins of his parents’ old home and they’d rebuilt a handsome new cottage in Godric’s Hollow. She’d taken it upon herself to unpack all of their belongings while Harry put the finishing touches on the shrine that would forever immortalise his heroic parents and their sacrifice.

She frowned when she looked at the last box though, not recognising it and knowing she’d already unpacked all of their belongings already. Unlike muggles, Harry and Daphne used magic to pack everything into conjured boxes, then summoned everything to their new home. While Daphne had no memory of packing this box specifically, she wondered if it had just been summoned along with a bunch of other junk.

Kicking open the lid with her toe, her brows rose when she saw the box stuffed with inch-thick photo albums.

Didn’t I already unpack all of the albums? Did we have more that I forgot about?

Her curiosity getting the better of her, she plucked one of the heavy albums from the box and blew off a thick layer of dust from the cover. It was unlabelled, the album made of leather and rather sturdy.

These must be Harry’s… I don’t recognise them. Are they from his previous marriage?

Daphne frowned as she was reminded of that woman, her mood always souring when her name came up. Shaking her head to dismiss the negative thoughts and emotions, she flipped open the cover and froze in shock.

These definitely belonged to Harry, and Daphne swallowed thickly as her wide eyes stared at the magical photo on the first page in disbelief. In it, Harry’s, unfortunately, beautiful ex-wife was naked and being shagged royally, her pale frame bouncing up and down on the lap of a man that wasn’t her husband. In the moving picture, Ginny turned and smiled impishly at the camera, moaning as the huge cock she’d impaled herself on stretched her every time she made a downward thrust.

With shaking hands, Daphne turned the page and was only slightly less surprised to see a similar photo staring back at her, the ginger harlot on all fours as she stared mockingly at the person who’d taken the picture. Daphne didn’t recognize the man shagging her, but he was admittedly handsome, his buff frame glistening with sweat as his hips crashed in a loop against Ginny’s toned rear, her thighs rippling and her body lurching forward with each thrust.

Was Harry the one taking these pictures…? Why does he still have them?

She mentally reprimanded herself. This wasn’t some silly drama where she’d jump to conclusions - besides, she’d had to blow off a thick layer of dust before opening the album. These had clearly been stored and forgotten about, the question was, why did Harry have them in the first place?

Daphne absently scanned through all of the albums, dozens of them, each one with a single, erotic magical picture of Harry’s ex-wife shagging a host of different men, only one of them she recognised.

The man Ginny had ultimately had an affair with, destroying her marriage.

So engrossed was she with looking at the pictures, Daphne didn’t even notice Harry had joined her in their new bedroom until his voice snapped her out of her turbulent thoughts.

‘Shrine’s finished luv, it looks…’ his voice trailed off when he saw what his wife was looking at, his face paling and his eyes growing haunted. ‘Where did you find that…?’

Her heart broke when she saw the pain in his eyes and Daphne hurriedly slammed the album shut and threw it in the box as if it burned her. ‘It must have gotten mixed up with all the other boxes.’ She frowned, it pained her to see Harry hurting, but she also didn’t like secrets. ‘Harry? What is this?’

Her husband winced at the question, a complex cocktail of emotions crossing his suddenly haunted features. Before he answered, he pulled out his wand and, with a sharp jab, vanished the box and all of its contents. Daphne, sitting on their bed patiently, stared at Harry sympathetically as he got his heavy breathing under control.

‘Sorry,’ he said, when he’d come back to his senses. ‘I thought I’d destroyed them all, I must have missed a box.’

Daphne’s brows disappeared into her hairline. There had been a lot of pictures in those albums, implying many sexual encounters. That had been only a portion? Harry must have seen something in her face that he didn’t like, because he winced and bowed his head in shame, mumbling some nonsense about needing to get the garage sorted out.

Daphne cringed when she was alone again, realising she may have let something show on her face that she hadn’t intended, or didn’t really feel.

What Harry and his ex got up to in the bedroom is, frankly, none of my business.

While her thoughts rang true, that didn’t assuage the annoying feelings of hurt. This had clearly been a big part of their love-lives, and Daphne had known nothing about it. It felt like her husband was hiding a part of himself from her, and she really didn’t like it.

Are you any better?

She winced as her traitorous mind hissed the words, mostly because it was telling the truth.

She didn’t like that there were still big secrets between them, even after being married for years. Marriages should be built on a bedrock of trust - there should be no fear of judgement or reprisal when discussing things like kinks or their past.

Her frown deepened. This wouldn’t go on.

Later, after Harry had cooked them a delicious dinner, they sat around their new dining table, the atmosphere almost oppressive in its awkwardness.

She loathed it.

Harry had taken a shower and had dressed rather fetchingly in a tweed jacket, tight shirt and jeans. With his messy, black hair still wet and his beautiful, emerald eyes enhanced by his glasses, he looked hot, even if depressed and angsty.

She wore a form-fitting tartan blazer over a button up shirt, jeans and brown riding boots, her blonde hair tied up in a tight bun while her thick-framed reading glasses sat folded on the table beside her.

The plan had been to go and say hello and introduce themselves to their new neighbours, but she didn’t see that happening now. While Harry was clearly mortified and embarrassed, Daphne was no meek wallflower. Though she felt sympathetic, she saw no need to dance around the elephant in the room.

‘Why didn’t you ever tell me?’

She didn’t need to elaborate and Harry’s hand paused on its way to deliver another forkful of mash into his mouth. He winced and gently put the utensil down, not answering immediately but clearly organising his thoughts - she doubted he’d been doing much else over the past several hours.

Harry was a private person by nature. If men in general abhorred talking about their feelings and emotions, Harry was an exception. Not because he did, but because he despised it so much it would often make him physically uncomfortable to do so. She’d always attributed it to his upbringing, but rather than push, she’d often just made sure she was nearby and available whenever he needed her, whether it be just with her presence alone or a kiss and a cuddle.

‘There’s not much to tell, honestly.’ When he finally spoke, she almost started, his soft voice like the crack of a whip in the oppressive silence. ‘Ginny and I had an…unconventional marriage. Things didn’t work out.’

Instead of snapping and getting annoyed at the horrific understatement, Daphne reached across the table and took his hands in hers. Her thumb ran soothing circles across the backs of his hands, and she made sure her smile held no judgement or recrimination.

‘You can tell me anything Harry, you don’t ever have to feel embarrassed or ashamed around me - we all have our kinks.’

Daphne had admitted to her husband in the past her own, embarrassing kinks - kinks a beautiful, upstanding, pureblooded noble like herself wouldn't be caught dead admitting to anyone but the man she trusted most in this world.

She’d admitted to her husband that she liked it a little rough during sex, and it had been as much of a hilarious understatement as Harry’s assertion that his marriage to his ex had been unconventional.

Harry winced at the mention of kinks, his eyes dropping down to his food. ‘Yeah, well, my kinks ruined my marriage…’

‘No,’ Daphne countered, steel in her tone. ‘The cunt cheating on you ruined your marriage.’

Harry burst out laughing, the sound and his eyes devoid of all humour. ‘She cheated on me because I wanted her to shag other men.’

So he’s a cuckold? Is that it? No big deal.

‘No,’ she countered again, her voice even more firm and her hands squeezing his tightly. ‘I obviously wasn’t there, but I like to think I know my husband. You would have set up clear boundaries, and if you insist she cheated, that, to me, means she crossed those boundaries and betrayed your trust.’

Despite his dour mood, Harry’s eyes flicked to her and he smiled, squeezing her hands back in appreciation.

‘Tell me what happened?’ She urged, her eyes pleading. ‘I don’t like not knowing about something so important in your past.’

After a few more moments of tense silence, moments where Daphne held her breath in hope - forcing Harry to do something he didn’t want to do was always a risky proposition - he started to speak and she let out a sigh of relief.

‘What’s there to say?’ he asked with a wince and a shrug. ‘You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’ve figured it all out by now. I used to get off to watching Ginny -’

‘The cunt,’ Daphne corrected, her lips quirked in a teasing grin, one her husband mirrored, his eyes finally twinkling with mirth.

‘Fine,’ he chuckled then sighed. ‘I used to get off on watching her shag other men and…and making fun of me. We did it often, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, with a lot of blokes - all strangers.’

‘Then she cheated on you?’ she spoke with no ridicule or judgement in her tone, even if he apparently got off on that.

He sighed again, his hands squeezing hers so tight it was starting to ache.

‘She formed a connection with one of the men and started to date him behind my back. When I found out, I divorced her.’

Though she very much doubted it had been that simple or clean, Daphne was glad to know the important bits. She dragged his hands across the table and kissed his knuckles, her pale blue eyes boring into his own. ‘She really is a stupid cunt. I bet she wakes up every day in tears, bemoaning that she spoiled such a beautiful thing.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Harry smiled, the humour once again not reaching his eyes. ‘You like the sound of an unlimited hall pass too?’

She didn’t take the bait, though she returned his grin.

‘I like the sound of being married to and spending the rest of my life with you.’

He blushed at the sincerity and intensity of her words, averting his gaze and smiling shyly. ‘Sorry, it’s…still a sore subject.’

They stared into each other’s eyes until Daphne stood and rounded the table. Harry pushed his chair back, giving her space to sit on his lap, her head resting atop his. He hugged her tight, as if he were worried if he let go, she’d magically disappear.

‘Are you still into that?’ she asked softly, her hand running through his sexily tousled hair. ‘Cuckolding?’

She felt her husband shudder and tense when she said the forbidden word out loud. Daphne also didn’t fail to notice his cock tenting his tight jeans.

‘How do you mean?’ he asked, his voice quiet and hoarse.

She didn’t beat around the bush. ‘Do you fantasise about me with other men?’

Harry didn’t answer, and honestly, he didn’t need to. His body gave him away more readily than his words ever could, sucking in a shuddering breath, he tightened his grip around her waist as his erection poked even harder into her bum.

It was readily apparent that a part of Harry was ashamed by the answer, so, the good wife that she was, she shouldered some of the burden.

‘I have some pretty dark fantasies too. Ones that I’ve never shared out of embarrassment…’

Harry snorted, his hand rubbing circles into her back as if letting her know he appreciated her meagre effort. ‘What? That you like to get spanked? You already told me, luv.’

‘I’ve told you I like it rough, true,’ she admitted, refusing to avert her gaze. ‘But that’s just the mild, entry-level kinks. I…’ She paused, her brows furrowed. Harry had been supremely embarrassed by his deepest, darkest kinks being exposed without his say-so, it was time to put her big-girl pants on and assuage her husband by revealing her own shameful kinky fantasy. ‘That’s… gentle love taps don’t do it for me. I want you to be rough with me, tie me up, flog me with a whip, choke me, throw me around, pull me hair - all of it.’

Harry’s eyes progressively widened with each of her words until he was staring at her in horror. ‘I could never hurt you!’

‘Not even if I want it?’ she challenged, her gaze intense. ‘You’re the only one I could ever trust enough to do this with. I’ve never even thought about doing this with anyone else.’

‘Wow.’ When Harry broke the silence, it seemed he was still in shock. Then a thought crossed his mind and he looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘You’re not just making this up to make me feel better, are you?’

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. ‘Don’t be daft.’

Still, he eyed her shrewdly. ‘And this isn’t just some excuse so you can feel justified kicking my ass?’

This time she grinned, her smile wide. ‘Mmm,’ she purred, grinding herself against him. ‘Actual fighting in the bed, forcing you to pin me down and put me in a choke-hold…? Husband, you’re giving me ideas…’

Harry laughed and she squealed when he started to tickle her. This wasn’t the kind of torture she had in mind to satisfy her kinky fantasies but… baby steps.

After they’d calmed down, she stared down at her husband, her features schooled. He was infinitely less mopey now, and for that she was glad. ‘So,’ she hedged, her bum still grinding in his lap. ‘What do you think? I like it rough. Proper rough. Am I a freak?’

She knew it was a low-blow to invoke such a hated slur from his childhood, but she needed him to see reason.

He winced and instantly shook his head. ‘It’s a bit…out there, but of course not. We can’t control what turns us on, after all.’

Daphne smiled wide and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. ‘Exactly,’ she purred.

-

A part of Harry couldn’t believe this was happening, but the possibility of his wife lying to him just to make him feel better had been thoroughly disproven over an hour ago.

At her request, he’d blindfolded her and trussed her up like a starfish in their new living room, her body stripped completely naked and exposed to him and his riding crop.

Naturally, he’d started soft, needing to build himself up to the force his wife desperately wanted him to use. When he’d finally thought he’d gone too far, using more strength than he’d intended and earning a loud, meaty thwack, he’d dropped the crop and rushed over to her, fully intending to console his screaming and crying wife and apologise until the day he died.

She’d screamed alright. In ecstasy. Even as the welt was forming on her perfect, pale, meaty bum, Daphne shook as a small orgasm rocked her body.

After that, the fun really started. With more confidence that this was what his wife truly wanted, he got much more into it, circling around her nude form and whipping her with more force than he’d ever thought possible. Daphne had climaxed several times at the rough treatment, and if he did hit her a little too hard, she’d scream their safe word, and he’d adjust.

There was no recrimination, they were both learning. Daphne, her limits, and Harry, how far he could push them.

When they finished, Daphne was laying naked on their bed as Harry gently massaged some essence of dittany into her tender skin, the poultice emitting green smoke and causing Daphne to moan as it repaired her skin.

‘I still can’t believe you actually like this…’

His wife chuckled, the sound deep and sultry. ‘Really? I lost count of the amount of orgasms you gave me. You were brilliant, especially when you channelled your inner sadist. Sticking the crop up my bum,’ she paused her sentence and shuddered, the memory alone giving her phantom pleasure. ‘That was genius.’

He blushed at her words, and while he’d never considered himself a sadist, he couldn’t deny that he’d really grown into the role the longer they played, his wife’s cries of ecstasy egging him on.

‘When I realised you started enjoying yourself too…’ his wife flipped over onto her back and stared up into his eyes, her hands framing his face. She pulled him down and placed a tender kiss on his lips before resting her forehead against his. ‘That was when the pleasure became next level for me. I’ve never felt closer to you.’

Harry smiled at his wife, his heart almost bursting with love as he laid down beside her. They kissed and snuggled for a while, more than content to just lay together and bask in each other’s warmth and affection.

Her head resting against his chest, her ear right over his heart, she stared deep into his eyes. People used to call Daphne the Ice Queen of Slytherin, her crystal blue eyes like two chips of sapphire that would stare deep into your soul - often finding you wanting. He hated how the rumours had had him feeling likewise at school, when the reality couldn’t be further from the truth her dreaded nickname implied.

He thought he’d known love when he married Ginny, but it wasn’t until he’d been introduced to Daphne that he started to learn the true meaning of the word.

Rather than chips of ice that froze you on the spot, his wife’s eyes always made him want to melt into a puddle of mush, especially when she stared at him the way she was now.

‘Are we going to experiment with your kink now?’ she finally whispered, breaking the silence. Her fingers were interlocked with his own and squeezed him tight, her gaze both comforting and pinning him with its intensity.

He didn’t answer, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to find his words. After several moments of failed speech, Daphne smiled at him in understanding, wrapping her arms and legs around him and squeezing him like a teddy bear.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ she whispered, making him calm instantly as she kissed his nipple, neck then lips. ‘It clearly brings up bad memories you’d prefer to stay in your past. We don’t have to talk about it ever again.’

He felt his chest swell with love and affection, his lips trembling as they passionately embraced. Not even his wife’s grumblings of ‘stupid cunt,’ could ruin the mood, both husband and wife basking in each other’s embrace.

-

Despite deciding to never bring it up again, Harry couldn’t stop fantasising about Daphne shagging another man. His dreams were bombarded with titillated scenes of his wife’s tight, lithe body sliding up and down a huge cock, her lips pulled wide into an alluring, teasing smile.

The scenes were such a turn on that Harry often found himself wankling like a teenager again at all times of the day, memories of his ex-wife replaced with fantasies of Daphne.

The harder he tried to think about anything else, the hotter and more insistent the fantasies, his perverse nature - forced to the dark recesses of his mind for far too long - coming back like a tidal wave.

It had gotten so bad that Daphne had started to notice something was off. During dinner after work, she pinned him with her stare and, instead of speaking, only arched a delicate, blonde eyebrow.

Shaking his head, he smiled at his wife. ‘It’s nothing, I’m fine -’

Before he could even finish the sentence, her other eyebrow rose, her features noticeably cooling. While her persona as the ‘Ice Queen’ had always been nonsense in his mind, it had been born of something real - Daphne Potter didn’t take shit from anybody. ‘Don’t lie to me, Harry,’ she hissed, her eyes narrowed. ‘We’ve already talked about this, I don’t want a marriage where we’re walking on eggshells around each other and uncomfortable talking about our true feelings.’

Harry winced and screwed his eyes shut, rubbing at their sockets before letting out a tired sigh. ‘You’re right, of course. I’m sorry.’ He opened his eyes, instantly calmed by her smile. He watched her slicing into the incredibly tender dragon-flank steak before sighing again. ‘I’m scared.’

Daphne didn’t answer immediately, and Harry watched as she put a tender piece of perfectly cooked meat in her mouth before humming in approval, the fat melting on her tongue. ‘Of what?’

He figured she had an idea, but his wife wanted him to put his fears into words.

‘I can’t stop thinking about you with another man, and I’m scared of how much it turns me on.’ He’d said it in a shaky whisper, but his voice easily travelled across the distance between them. His wife didn’t chew the meat so much as she let it dissolve in her mouth, so he continued. ‘I want it so much that I’m walking around with a permanent stiffy lately just because I can’t stop fantasising about it. Bloody hell, I’m wanking three times a day now just to keep myself under control -’ that, apparently, had been news to his wife, and her eyes widened in surprise. ‘I’m, I don’t want what happened with my last marriage to happen again, but I can’t stop thinking about you shagging other guys…’

Daphne put her utensils down and walked around the table, sitting in his lap and stroking his hair.

‘Wow, you weren’t kidding,’ she teased, wiggling in his lap and grinding her rear against his hardness. Harry buried his face in his wife’s breasts and laughed, half in pain and half in good ol’ British self-deprecation. ‘We could try roleplay?’

And so they did. That night, when they made love, Daphne rode him and talked about her past sexual encounters with her exes as if they’d happened that day, teasing him all the while. It worked… a little too well. Harry came almost instantly and his desire to see it happen for real only grew more strong.

Harry told his wife all of this, of course, her insistence on not keeping this bottled up at the forefront of his mind - even if it was terribly embarrassing.

After thinking on his words for several minutes, his head in her lap as she stroked his hair, she just shrugged. ‘If the only pain-point here is you’re worried I’ll run off with some man like your stupid cunt of an ex, that’s a non-issue.’

Harry’s brows furrowed and he frowned. ‘I’m sure Ginny thought likewise until -’

His wife shushed him with her finger, a teasing smile on her lips. She leaned down until her lips were pressed against his ear, her cool hand gripping his rapidly hardening cock. ‘Do you think I’m unused to a well-endowed lover?’ she asked, her posh accent and naughty words driving him wild. ‘My ex has a much bigger dick than yours, and yet I still dated and married you without a second thought…’

Harry groaned with lust, the teasing words somehow both beautiful and emasculating at the same time.

His wife’s laughter was half fond and half cruel. ‘Do you like that?’ she teased, her stroking slowing to a crawl as she instead squeezed his thick shaft. ‘You like hearing about how my ex would stretch out my tight pussy with his huge cock?’

His cock was pulsing with desire, his mind constantly assaulted with images of his wife's beautiful, tight pussy sliding up and down some monstrously hung bloke. The biggest issue was Daphne felt all this too, her hand like a lie-detector as she looked down on him and smiled.

Her features softened and she brushed his damp, messy locks out of his eyes. ‘Just know I’m not going to push for this, in fact, I’m fine with it never happening. But if you want it, I’ll do it for you. Because I love you… and your little dick.’

Harry couldn’t help it, he laughed, burying his face in his wife’s lap and hugging her waist tightly, his voice thick with emotion. ‘I love you so bloody much.’

‘I love you more,’ she countered, her hand still running through his hair.

A few days later, Harry sat next to his wife on the couch in the living room, a small box on the coffee table in front of them. Daphne turned to him, her eyebrow arched and waiting for him to explain.

Harry felt his cheeks flush crimson under her scrutiny, but decided to get it over with.

He’d barely had a wink of sleep the previous night out of sheer excitement, it was time to stop lying to himself and denying his feelings and urges.

‘That’s for you,’ he said, after clearing his throat in embarrassment. His cheeks flushed darker as Daphne took the box in hand and opened it. When she pulled out the item within, the confusion on her face was utterly adorable.

Right. Pureblood. There’s probably a spell for something like this.

‘It’s called a chastity cage,’ he explained with red cheeks, getting his wife’s attention. Pointing to the steel ring, he cleared his throat again and spoke. ‘You pass my cock and balls through that ring, then you put my shaft in the cage and attach it to the ring, locking it in place.’

Daphne’s eyes widened in surprise, then delight, her gaze smouldering with lust. He wasn’t entirely surprised, the sex toy being relatively adjacent to her own BDSM kinks. ‘You want me to put this on you now?’

He hesitated for only a second before recalling the little spiel he’d spent all of last night rehearsing. ‘I want… once in a while, whenever you’re feeling horny and naughty, to surprise me by putting the cage on me then bringing a bloke home to shag in front of me.’ He felt the tension instantly leave his shoulders after he got the sinful words off his chest. Instead of the potential laughter, disgust or annoyance, his wife only smiled at him in understanding and took his hand, moulding herself against his side.

‘Is that it?’

‘The cage is key,’ he continued, swallowing thickly. ‘It lets me know that, at any time when I’m wearing it, could be days or a week at most, I could walk in on you shagging someone. Not knowing when it’ll happen exactly, then being surprised by it is… it’s really exciting.’

His wife nodded in understanding, but her features remained otherwise unchanged. He continued.

‘No kissing,’ he urged, wincing at the memories of Ginny and the man she’d ultimately left him for. ‘No secrets, but obviously, when the cage is on, you essentially have a hall pass. No repeat lovers, preferably strangers. No more than once a month… no less than once every six. I’d rather the men you picked are… big, and when the cage is on, I’m fine with you teasing and mocking me, do the whole cuckold thing.’

His wife was getting turned on by his words too, her hand in his lap and rubbing his achingly hard bulge while the other gripped the cage tightly. ‘And when the cage comes off, we’re back to normal?’

His smile was shaky, but thankful. ‘Yeah. Exactly.’

She nodded, and he couldn’t help thinking her smirk was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. ‘Your boundaries couldn’t be clearer, and if you had something similar with your ex, she’s an even bigger cunt than I thought.’

He grinned bashfully. ‘Everything but the kissing rule, pretty much.’

Daphne grinned at him and slid down to the floor between his legs. ‘Why wait?’ she asked coquettishly, and Harry sucked in a shuddering breath, his eyes wide and his cheeks flaring crimson as his wife unbuckled his belt and pulled down his trousers and pants. His painfully hard, six-inch cock sprang free and hit her in the chin, average in length but above average in girth. ‘Oh, this won’t do at all,’ she tut-tutted, sounding like a devious private school teacher that wanted to punish his erect member like it was a misbehaving child.

He’d thought she might give him a blowie to calm him down before fitting the cage on - he should have known better. Especially after knowing her kinks.

Harry winced and grunted when she started to slap his bollocks, the stinging sensation making him feel queasy and a little nauseous as she kept it up until he eventually softened. ‘That’s better,’ she cooed, grinning up at him like a naughty minx. He sucked in a shuddering breath as she pulled his shrivelled cock and balls through the steel ring before attaching the cage and locking it in place. She smiled wide at her handiwork, pinching his now two-inch caged cock and jingling it like a set of keys. ‘Your little willy looks adorable.’

Harry screwed his eyes shut and groaned, his hand threading itself in Daphne’s blonde tresses. His wife’s following giggle just drove him even more wild.

‘Muggles are fascinating with their little inventions,’ she marvelled, her chin in hand. She’d made herself comfortable between his legs and continued playing with his caged cock, pinching it like it was a soiled tissue and jingling it around. ‘And this will stop you from getting hard and ejaculating?’

‘Yes and no,’ Harry answered, his cheeks still flushed as he beheld his wife’s beautiful curious features. ‘If I get hard, the shaft won’t swell, but the ring will pull away from the groin and I’ll harden inwards, if that makes sense.’ His wife nodded in understanding, clearly fascinated by the sex toy. ‘As for cumming, it’s very hard, but it is possible. I’ve had a pretty big wet dream while wearing one before and, I, um…’ he averted his gaze, embarrassed to admit this but determined to not keep secrets from his wife anymore. ‘I’ve had an orgasm while having my prostate stimulated alone… it kind of just…dribbles out though.’

His wife’s eyes widened with delight, her smile positively wicked. ‘What’s the longest you’ve been in the cage for?’

‘A week,’ he answered honestly, hoping to move on, his wife’s delicate finger tracing circles around his sphincter said otherwise though.

Daphne’s face scrunched in disgust. ‘That sounds…unsanitary.’

He laughed shakily. ‘You can still wash with it on, but don’t worry, I’ve put cleaning charms on it too.’

Looking up into his wife’s gorgeous, crystal-blue eyes, his breath hitched, his heart skipping a beat. The way she was looking at him… looking at him and his caged cock, it was so lustful, so hungry. He’d never felt sexy while wearing this cage before, but the way Daphne was devouring him with her eyes, it made him flush, not in embarrassment, but in pleasure.

‘What are you thinking?’ His voice was hoarse, tentative and a touch hopeful.

Daphne snapped herself out of her daydream and smiled cheekily. ‘Once we get your dirty fantasy out of the way, I think I quite fancy the idea of making you wait on me wearing nothing but this adorable little cage.’

Harry shuddered at the mental image, and when his wife dragged her fingers over his filled-to-burst bollocks, whimpered at her touch. Daphne was biting her lip, positively adoring his reactions and the power she had over him.

She giggled. ‘Maybe for my birthday - I’ll invite ‘Stori over.’

When his entire body shuddered and he groaned, she cackled, pulling his hunched frame into her chest and running a hand through his messy hair, kissing his temple and soothing him.

‘Same safeword as always, my love.’

The way she was looking at him was so different to the way Ginny used to. Whenever Harry had put on this cage with Ginny, she had looked at him like he was dirt to be scraped off the soles of her feet, and while that had been part of the whole kink, it had never made him feel the way his wife’s look was making him feel now.

Despite how vulnerable he was, how much he’d exposed himself with his kink to his wife, she didn’t look down on him. She found it a little funny, sure, but the way she looked at him, she still found him sexy. Daphne giggled as she played with his caged cock, but she also still ran her hands over his muscles appreciatively, biting her lip as she admired his form.

Her look…made him feel special, and he felt a swell of gratitude and love in his chest so strong it was fit to burst. When he slid to the floor and spread his wife’s legs wide to give himself some space, her eyes widened with delight when he started to show her his gratitude and affection.

‘Oooh yesss,’ she purred with delight, and he groaned with bliss when she took a fistful of his hair and gripped tightly. ‘That’s it, right there my little cuck.’

-

Harry sighed a few days later when he finally returned home and removed his sodden coat.

It had been a pretty terrible day. Work had been a nightmare, with Harry being forced to deal with squabbling children disguised as adults all day. Then the Floo network had been forced closed because of some twat having performed a prank on the fireplaces at the Ministry. Finally, the skies had opened up and a deluge of water had poured out just as he was making his way home.

With magic, that normally wouldn’t be an issue, but some security conscious witches and wizards had put up powerful anti-apparition wards all around Godric’s Hollow after his parents had been killed, it had meant he’d needed to trudge through the pouring rain for a good ten minutes before he made it to his front door.

Thank God for magic.

Quickly drying himself with a flick of his wand, Harry hung his coat and froze when he removed his shoes, an unfamiliar, large pair right where he normally removed his.

Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he heard a pair of giggles coming from upstairs. One of them undeniably his wife’s, and the other, deep and unrecognisable.

Suddenly, he felt faint, his cock straining against its cage as his heart tried to beat itself out of his chest.

What made the entire experience even more surreal was that, what would normally be a trauma-triggering event that would be the opposite of a turn on was anything but. His amazing wife had been extra sweet and understanding over the last several days, and while he was locked away in a cage, the key to which was dangling between her perfect breasts for anyone to see, she never failed to make him feel sexy, special and wanted.

His guts roiling with familiar feelings of angst and excitement, Harry shakily climbed the stairs. He was surprised, however, when he found their bedroom empty, and he felt his heart surge with love when he heard the soft moans coming from further down the hall. From the guest room.

Even at this point she’s thinking about me. About us.

He’d never stipulated their bedroom, their private sanctuary as a boundary. She’d taken that upon herself. Daphne wasn’t just thinking about getting her rocks off, she was constantly thinking about his feelings, and making this as incredible an experience for him as possible.

When Harry made the rest of his journey to the guest bedroom, his knees wobbling with fear and arousal, he almost swallowed his tongue at the sight that greeted him, his caged cock aching as it tried to surge due the scene before him.

Daphne heard him even as he silently pushed open the door, her gaze flicking up and her plump lips quirking as he quietly slipped into the room. She was laying on the bed against a mountain of pillows, her toned, ballerina legs spread wide as a huge black bloke lay between them, his bald head buried in her womanhood.

His wife moaned as the man’s arm visibly pumped, his hand joining his tongue in giving the love of his life pleasure. Daphne didn’t break his gaze, arching her back and accentuating her perfect D-cups as the man went down on her.

As for the man, well, a second glance proved how massive he truly was. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if Daphne had picked him up at the gym. Laid out on the bed as he was, Harry eyed him at over two-hundred centimetres tall, his powerful body rippling with perfectly cut muscles. His member was as massive as the rest of him, and while Harry had expected it to be hard and pressed against his belly for comfort, it was as if his wife had laid out the scene for him perfectly, his cock extending in the opposite direction and clearly visible between his trunk-like legs.

Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as he beheld the half-hard shaft that extended almost all the way to the backs of his knees. His wife certainly knew how to pick them.

Daphne, while having this Adonis go down on her, didn’t look consumed with passion. She looked regal, like a Queen being pleasured by one of her knights or servants, her sharp eyes clearly watching for his reaction. Seeing that he wasn’t freaking out and clearly insanely turned on, her gaze flicked over to the other side of the room, and Harry’s eyes followed it.

He grinned when he saw the armchair, and when he turned back to his wife, he almost groaned at the total transformation in her features. Gone was the excitement and understanding and in its place, his hotwife.

‘You’re late, cuck.’

Harry screwed his eyes shut and groaned, the words lighting a fire in him and causing all the pleasure receptors in his brain to go off at once. Ginny had said similar things when they were together, but hearing them from Daphne’s lips just hit different.

‘Strip,’ she barked, and her cuck obeyed. Harry shucked his clothes like they were on fire, his naked body fully revealed to the two lovers as he stood there in nothing but his cage. Daphne eyed him hungrily for several tense moments before shaking herself out of it and staring deeply into his eyes. ‘Sit,’ she barked again, and Harry found his legs moving of their own accord, hurrying over to the chair and plopping him down as he beheld the titillating sight before him.

The huge bloke turned to look at him and chuckled, before returning his attention to his wife. While the look in his dark eyes was mocking, he kept his mouth shut - likely on orders from his Daphne, now that he thought about ti.

The man clearly knew better than to push her on this, at least if he wanted to get his dick wet.

Apparently now that their captive audience had arrived, the show could begin. Harry gripped his caged, aching cock as the two on the bed flipped around, Daphne now straddling the huge man. Harry audibly swallowed as he beheld the huge, towing cock swaying in the air, as thick as her wrist, before resting against the cleft of her perfect, meaty, pale rear.

The contrast in their skin tones was beautiful, and Harry couldn’t help but mentally replace the man on the bed with Blaise Zabini, her ex from Hogwarts. Was he the one she’d mentioned having a huge cock? The thought made him shudder with desire.

Daphne ground her womanhood against her lover’s pelvis, giggling lustily before turning to gaze at him over her shoulder. Harry sucked in an excited breath as she reached behind her and ran her delicate fingers along his length until the mushroom-shaped tip was kissing her womanhood.

She didn’t immediately impale herself, but Harry barely noticed as he stared at the insanely erotic sight with bated breath. When his wife cleared her throat, Harry shook himself out of his stupor and at her with wide eyes.

She was clearly waiting for his go-ahead, even given the situation. Harry licked his dry lips and nodded shakily, smiling shyly at his beautiful wife. She smiled back, then smirked, before rocking back on the huge cock and impaling herself.

‘Ooooh yes,’ she groaned, low and gutturally as inch after inch of her lover’s manhood disappeared into her delicate pussy, stretching her out like he never could. Through it all, Daphne never broke eye contact with him, her cheeky grin only interrupted by her cries of passion as she swivelled her hips, rocking from side-to-side to help the man sink deeper into her.

‘He’s stretching me so much,’ she purred, and Harry almost came from the sexy words alone, his wife’s deep, penetrative stare pinning him to the spot and making everything even hotter. ‘So much more than you ever could with your little dick, honey.’

This time, Harry screwed his eyes shut, a groan not too dissimilar to the large man’s escaping his lips. They both laughed at his pathetic display, which only turned him on more.

When his eyes opened again, he was thrilled to see the vision before him hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. His beautiful, amazing, gorgeous wife was fucking a stranger right in front of him, her hips slowly bouncing as her pussy slid up and down his prodigal member.

‘You like it?’ she whispered, biting her lip as she kept watching for him, no doubt making sure he was enjoying himself. ‘You like seeing him stretch me?’

‘You’re incredible,’ he finally answered, breathless and more turned on than he could ever remember.

‘It feels so good, Harry,’ she moaned, leaning back and leaning on his thighs, her hips no longer bouncing but instead gyrating. ‘I wish you’d told me this sooner, think how much time we wasted using your little dick instead of real ones like this one.’

Harry’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as he gripped his aching balls. She giggled at his over-the-top response, biting her lip sexily as she watched him squirm.

He watched them for several more minutes until they decided to change it up. They rotated around until they were in profile, his wife now on her knees with her face pressed against the bed and turned to face him. Harry swallowed thickly and watched as his wife’s lover loomed over her, his skin as dark as night and covered in tiny balls of perspiration. Aside from staring at this battering ram of a cock as it slid back into his willing and eager wife though, he paid the man no mind.

This wasn’t about him.

It was about them, about how his wife would do this for him. She smiled when she saw his worshipful stare, then groaned as her lover squeezed back into her, his dark hands gripping her pale, meaty bum.

His wife was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and he felt like the luckiest man alive being able to wake up beside her every morning. Seeing her, like this, like his own personal porn star… it made it all so much better.

He started when he saw Daphne biting her lip, her breathing intensifying. ‘Cuck,’ she purred, and he loved the way the word sounded on her lips. ‘Come here, make yourself useful.’

Not knowing exactly what she meant but eager to obey nonetheless, Harry shot up and kneeled down on the floor beside his rocking wife. She took his hands and stared deeply into his eyes, her moans as her lover slowly picked up his pace like erotic music to his ears.

‘Kiss me,’ she ordered, her tone breathless. He instantly obeyed, but when he made to cup her face, she squeezed his hands tighter, stopping him. Leaning forward, their tongues met in a passionate embrace and he swallowed his wife’s needy moans as her lover kept shagging her.

When they finally pulled apart, he was greeted with the glorious sight of his wife flush, ebullient features, her smile naughty and filled with erotic promise.


‘I’m so happy this - nnh - is your fantasy, that you asked for this,’ she whispered through her moans, her voice strained. She rested her forehead against his, one hand cupping his cheek while the other played with his nipple. ‘I’d almost forgotten what a real cock feels like - because that thing dangling pathetically between your legs isn’t a real cock, the one in me is.’

Harry groaned with lust and both Daphne and her lover laughed as he buried his face in the nape of her neck, inhaling her flowery perfume and surrounding himself with his wife’s soft flesh.

When he pulled back, his wife was staring at him lustily while biting her lip. ‘Stand up,’ she ordered, grinning. ‘I want to see your little dicklet.’

Blushing he did as she asked, standing at the foot of the bed with his caged cock only centimetres away from his wife’s giggling, flushed features.

‘Wiggle your hips for me, baby,’ she purred, and Harry didn’t even think of disobeying, his arousal and humiliation both spiking as the cage jingled and they both giggled at him. Harry groaned when she started to tug on and play with his balls, her laughter quickly turning into moans as her lover pushed deeper, his cock no doubt pressing right up against her cervix, hitting her deeper than he ever could.

When they next pulled apart, Daphne scooched forward and sat at the foot of the bed, her legs spread either side of his own, his pathetically shrivelled caged cock in hand. With a flick of her head, her blonde locks flipping over her shoulder, she called her lover over and Harry shrank away as the huge man towered over him, standing hip-to-hip.

He wasn’t intimidated, per se, but standing next to the man who had just been shagging his wife, his cocksure grin and monstrous cock made him seem ten feet taller. Daphne played with his caged member with one hand, and stroked the one that had just been sliding in and out of her with the other.

‘Look how much bigger he is than you, my love,’ she purred, her head resting against his chest as they both looked down at the thick, almost foot-long shaft. Harry’s knees almost buckled, and he groaned with arousal, though when he regained control, he saw Daphne was still looking up at him impishly. ‘Don’t you think you should thank Michael for shagging your wife properly? For doing what you can’t?’

Harry swallowed, gaping at his naughty wife in shock. He turned to the larger, grinning man, his grin sickly. ‘T-thanks mate.’

‘Thanks what?’ Daphne quickly followed up, just when Harry thought his humiliation had peaked.

Swallowing thickly, his face so warm he wouldn’t be surprised if steam was shooting out of his ears, he looked back up at the huge man and nodded. ‘T-thanks for shagging my… my wife. Better than I ever could.’

‘Good boy,’ Daphne purred as her lover chuckled, his deep, baritone voice making his chest rumble.

Before he could blink, his wife pushed him back with one hand and yanked her lover down on the bed with her with the other. She straddled his large frame again, his cock waving around like a flag pole. Looking over her shoulder, Daphne bit her lip and groaned as she sank back down on the huge cock, giving her husband a front row seat to her impalement.

Harry stared, transfixed by the sight of Michael’s thick shaft spreading his wife’s delicate pussy so enticingly. He licked his lips, frozen on the spot as Daphne slowly picked up a rhythm, and Michael started to match his wife’s bounces with upwards thrusts of his own, his equally huge balls bouncing all over the place.

‘Are you excited to see him fill me up?’ His wife’s naughty tone once again snapped him out of his daze, earning a slow nod. Daphne’s laughter was strained this time, pleasure and her ongoing exertions making her continued teasing dialogue a choir. ‘Mmm, will you clean me?’

This time, Harry reacted like he’d been slapped. He’d never done that with his ex-wife, though to be fair, he’d never mentioned not doing it either. Daphne had clearly worded it like a question instead of an order, giving him an out if he so chose without breaking the immersion of their little game.

He thought about it, and while a not insignificant part of him was revolted by the prospect, seeing the look in her eyes as she continued to stare at him, patiently waiting for his reaction made his mind up for him. He shakily nodded, and Daphne screwed her eyes shut, her body going stiff and her mouth dropping open in a silent scream.

Harry blushed as the thought of cleaning her soon-to-be overflowing pussy had turned his wife on enough to trigger her orgasm. Not to be outdone, Michael soon followed her into bliss, his cock visibly pulsing as he gasped out loud and disgorged his load into his wife.

As Miachael lay panting on the bed, breathing heavily as he recovered, Daphne recovered first. With a flick of her wrist, her wand flew out of its invisible holster and into her waiting hand. Before her lover could even blink in shock at the strange implement, his wife waved it in the large man’s general direction, and Harry watched as his eyes glazed over.

‘Let yourself out,’ Daphne ordered the man, her warmth towards him all but spent as she launched herself at her husband. Harry caught her with an oof, falling back into the armchair as his wife tried to suck his face off.

Harry barely noticed as the huge man dressed and slowly walked out of the bedroom without looking back, his focus entirely on his naughty, amazing wife.

‘How was that cuck?’ Daphne asked with a laugh, her blonde hair falling down and tickling his face. ‘Was it better than your fantasies?’

‘So much better,’ Harry confirmed, pulling her down and suckling one of her pale nipples into his mouth. His wife moaned, her hands threading in his hair as Harry felt warm, wetness pooling in his lap. ‘You’re the best wife ever!’

Laughing, Daphne pulled away and grabbed his wrist, tossing him on the bed. Landing flat on his back, Harry sucked in a shuddering breath as she crawled over his body, her soiled womanhood directly in his line of sight and hanging precariously over his mouth.

‘What you said earlier,’ she prompted, the hand with her wedding ring covering her gaping pussy. ‘Did you mean it?’

Harry licked his dry lips before shakily nodding. ‘If you order me to, I’ll do it…’

Biting her lip, she gave him time to utter their safe word before groaning and slowly moving her hand away. Harry was instantly met with a large, thick globule of cum hitting him in the mouth, and he barely had time to suck in another breath before his wife’s abused womanhood was pressed into his lips, her lover’s prodigious load oozing into his mouth.

‘Oh Merlin, that’s so hot!’ She gasped, her hands running through his hair as she gyrated on his mouth.

He brought her to two orgasms while cleaning her out, his skill with occlumency helping him clear his mind and not think about the thick, viscous fluid disgustingly oozing down his throat.

Daphne was so turned on by the time he was done, even after several orgasms, her hands shook as she shakily removed his cage and sat in his lap, his cock surging to life the second its restraints were tossed to the other side of the room.

Harry barely had time to think before his wife slipped him inside her, groaning and burying her face in his neck.

‘Do you still want me to - nnh - tease you?’ she asked, panting as she bounced on his lap. ‘Or only when the cage is - hah - on?’

He loved that she was still treating this as his fantasy, and was still thinking about him.

He laughed, burying his face in her breasts. ‘Let’s just say we’re still playing until tomorrow morning.’

She apparently liked the sound of that, and she cried with ecstasy. ‘It’s like I can’t even feel you!’ she cried, her eyes screwed shut as she gyrated her hips. ‘Are you sure that thing is a dick? Should I call Michael back? Is this any way to treat your - ooooh - wife?!’

Harry bit down on her nipple. Hard. Certainly harder than he’d intended, but the cry his wife let out at the rough treatment made the cries she’d made earlier with her lover sound tame by comparison. ‘Harder!’

So he did, filled with gratitude that she’d played her part so perfectly in bringing his fantasy to reality, he bit down on one, then the other nipple, almost to the point of drawing blood. Then he flipped them over so he was looming over her, his hand wrapped around her throat just hard enough to make breathing a choir.

With how turned on he was, and with how much he was pressing his wife’s buttons, it wasn’t long before they both came, admittedly, much quicker than Harry would have preferred.

They lay in each other’s arms after Harry’s orgasm, his wife’s features screaming pure satisfaction as she snuggled against his side, her arms wrapped around his chest.

It was almost ten minutes of companionable silence before Harry next spoke, his voice quiet and unsure.

‘This was really fun…’

Daphne cracked open an eye and looked up at him, her brows raised. ‘But…?’

He looked down at her, squeezing her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing her fingers. ‘Would you be terribly upset if I said I didn’t want to do it again? One and done?’

His wife didn’t even blink. ‘Fine with me,’ she answered so nonchalantly it almost made his head spin. Daphne snuggled up to him again without another word, making herself comfortable as she prepared to drift off to sleep.

As if he needed more proof that they were meant to be together, after another minute of silence, his wife cracked open an eye again, realisation dawning on her features. ‘You didn’t mean that, did you?’

Harry licked his lips before his lips parted in an eager, perverted smile.

‘No… I really didn’t.’