A 'Love' Connection.. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Spanking, Punishment, Cum Play, Teasing, Handjobs, BJs, Orgasm Denial.

Romilda clutched the piece of parchment in her hands tightly, her heart hammering in her chest. She was standing alone on the empty spiral staircase, unable to move ahead. Yet, she could not bring herself to withdraw back to her dorms.

Was it pride? A stubborn refusal to slink back into hiding like a chastised cat? Or maybe a part of her still believed she had a chance, even after everything that had happened.

Even she didn’t know.

All she knew was that she was standing ten feet away from Harry Potter’s dorm, clutching a letter bearing his writing and trying to convince herself to go up to him before someone caught her.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and climbed the last few steps, meekly tapping her knuckles against the shut door.

“Enter,” came the voice from the door in response to the knock. Harry’s voice was cold, completely devoid of the usual warmth it held.

Romilda steeled herself and opened the door a crack, slipped inside the dimly lit dorm room, and shut the door behind her. She blinked at the sudden absence of light, trying to get accustomed to the darkness. The only source of light was the fire roaring merrily in the large fireplace, its orange flames bathing the room with warmth. Her eyes roved around the deserted dorm room until she discovered the figure sitting on a chair close to one of the beds. “Harry?” She asked, her heart in her throat.

His body was shrouded in darkness, making it even harder to decipher the inscrutable expression on his face. He didn’t look angry, but he certainly wasn’t happy to see her. That much was certain.

“Come here, Miss Vane.”

Romilda nodded, balling her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. She paused in front of the chair, her eyes downcast. She kept staring at the roughly hewn stone floor, unable to bring herself to look at the man.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered after a minute of uncomfortable silence. “I… I don’t know what came over me. I was going to ask you to Professor Slughorn’s party but I was too scared. Then all my friends told me someone like me would never have a chance with the Boy-Who-Lived and I acted like a stupid little girl. I just want you to-” Her eyes widened as his palm pressed against her lips, muffling the rest of her words.

“I talked to your friends this morning,” Harry murmured, taking advantage of her quiet squeak to push his fingers into her mouth. She didn’t fight him, immediately submitting to his advances. “They told me everything about you.”

Romilda turned red. If they’d told him everything about her feelings for him… she was going to kill them. She had shared those details in confidence!

Harry’s fingers explored the warmth of her mouth, distracting her from all thoughts of revenge.

“You sent my friend to the hospital wing, Miss Vane,” Harry said softly, using his hold in her mouth to pull her closer. “Now, you weren’t directly responsible, which is the only reason I’m giving you an option. Otherwise, I’d have hauled your delinquent ass in front of Professor McGonagall long ago.”

Romilda blushed. Something about the way he was admonishing her like she was a naughty child caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing was strangely arousing.

Maybe it’s just that he’s finally paying attention to me, Romilda thought, pressing her thick thighs together as she suppressed a moan.

“Tbhank yhou, shir,” she said thickly around his fingers, her eyes flickering over to finally look at him. “Ihm shorry,” she added genuinely. The potion had been a momentary fit of madness, nothing more.

She hoped he could see that she’d never do anything of that sort ever again.

“Words are cheap, Miss Vane. You have to earn your apology.”

Romilda nodded around his hand, her sleek black curls bouncing vigorously. “I whill!”

“How?”

The question threw her for a loop. How would she earn her apology?

No clue, she thought ruefully, before perking up as she thought of a suitable answer.

“Whatever yhou dechide,” Romilda murmured, putting the ball in his court.

“You see, I’ve been giving it a fair bit of thought. At first, I just wanted to tell Professor McGonagall everything. Merlin, I nearly did tell them everything when Snape tried to pin the entire debacle on me. But I told them that the chocolates had been sent by an anonymous person to me and Ron accidentally ate some.” Harry pulled his fingers out of her mouth. “And I spent all day yesterday with Stella, trying to understand why you would do something like this.”

“You talked to my best friend?” Romilda squeaked, stumbling slightly when he wrapped his saliva-covered hand around her tie and pulled her closer.

“I did. Tell me, does that girl ever shut up?”

Romilda shook her head. It was pointless to expect Stella Lawson to keep any secrets to herself, but at the same time, given her infatuation with the Weasley twins, she had been the only person who truly understood her feelings.

“I suspected as much. She told me… a lot. It’s a pity, you know? Before this entire incident, you were growing on me.”

“I was?” Romilda asked, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Well, in a ‘pin this girl against the wall and kiss her with my hand around her throat to shut her up’ way, but yes, you were,” Harry conceded. “Now I’m in a moral quandary.”

“How so?” Romilda whispered, unable to believe her luck. She had been so close, only to have everything she ever wanted to be pushed out of reach by her own stupidity.

“Of what to do with you. Because I can’t take the girl who indirectly hurt my best friend as my date to a party.”

“You’re taking me with you to Professor Slughorn’s party?”

“I was.”

“I’m sorry,” Romilda begged, close to tears. “I’ll take any punishment you want. I’ll even go to Professor McGonagall and tell her everything!” Her move to leave was stopped by him wrapping his free hand around her wrist.

“No. I don’t want you to get in too much trouble. The fact that Ron drank poisoned wine wasn’t your fault. Your only mistake was causing him to go to Professor Slughorn’s office for an antidote to your love potion,” Harry said softly. The concern in his voice was evident, despite his otherwise cold behavior. “We will decide this between us and you will apologize to Ron tomorrow. That’s the deal, Miss Vane. Do you take it?”

Romilda nodded.

Harry tightened his hold on her wrist, pulling her closer to him. It took her a minute to understand what was happening and by the time she had made sense of her situation, she was sprawled across his lap.

“I do think you told Stella something about your ass and what you’d like me to do to it,” Harry murmured, pushing one of his legs over hers, trapping her in place. The amusement in his voice was equal parts amusing and embarrassing. Harry had evidently decided to play a game that night and she was to be his toy. “What did you say?”

“I… I just told her that I’d noticed you staring at it. And that if you just stopped dating sticks and went out with a woman with actual curves you’d appreciate what a real ass feels like,” Romilda whispered, repeating herself word for word. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the soft fabric of her black skirt ride up her creamy thighs, the man carelessly tucking the skirt into its own waistband.

“I’m in the mood to appreciate a real ass tonight, Miss Vane.” Harry smirked as he admired the perfectly-shaped ass on his lap. He hadn’t expected the flamboyant girl to wear anything sensible, but coming to him wearing a barely present thong that left her large round cheeks fully bare was certainly a benefit in disguise.

The barely suppressed lust in his voice caused her to whimper. They were on a chair in the middle of his dorm, completely unshielded from view. Anyone who decided to walk in through the unlocked door would get a nice long look at her ass before she had a chance to cover up. A part of her mind screamed at her to get up, to tell Harry to take her on a proper date because that was what she deserved. Considering it was the same irrational voice that had convinced her to go ahead with the stupid love potion trick, she decided to listen to the other, quieter part of her that was silently basking in Harry’s presence.

It found the unexpected humiliation strangely arousing and her body clearly agreed. A trickle of arousal was seeping out of her virgin pussy, soaking her black thong before tracing down her thighs.

“If you agree to go ahead with this, I’m going to need your hands, Miss Vane,” Harry said, his voice a low growl.

In the end, it wasn’t much of a contest. Despite her momentary hesitation, Romilda knew she’d submit to him even if he had demanded her to climb onto his lap in the Common Room, in full view of everyone else.

She pulled her arms behind her back, grunting quietly as he grabbed her wrists with his hand and pinned her hands together.

“You will count for me and you will answer every question truthfully.”

“Yes, sir,” Romilda murmured. She’d read in a Witch Weekly article that some men liked to be called that, among other things. The barely perceptible twitch of the bulge pressing into her belly certainly seemed to prove that Harry was one of those men.

“Have you ever been spanked, Miss Vane?”

Oh, that voice. It did things to him. She wondered if he’d whisper dirty things in her ear in that sexy growl when he fucked her.

“Miss Vane, if you make me repeat my questions, we’ll be having this conversation about my belt, not my hand.”

Romilda bit her lips. His belt?! “Uh, no sir,” she said quickly.

Harry chuckled. The drama queen laid out across her knee was turning out to be even more fun than he had expected. “I will not stop if you start crying. I will not stop if you squirm. I will only stop if you say ‘Red’. Nod if you understand and prepare yourself.”

Romilda nodded as fast as she could, her black curls flying around wildly.

Harry kept massaging her firm bum while she wriggled around on his lap, trying to contort herself into a comfortable position. Once she was sure she was ready she nodded again, sucking in a deep breath as she felt the hand withdraw.

SMACK!

Romilda’s eyes flew open, a quiet cry escaping her lips. The gentle slap to her cheek was more shocking than painful, but it was a very real reminder of things that were to come.

“O-one,” she whispered, pressing herself down into his lap. Her back arched, raising her bum up for her tormentor.

SMACK!

“Two!” she squealed, groaning at the harder-than-expected spank.

Romilda had never been in such a situation before. Usually, it was her that dictated the terms of the relationship and if the man didn’t like it, well, he was free to find someone else. But for the first time in her life, she found the tables reversed. She wanted Harry. And she wanted to cater to his every whim and desire.

Harry kept raining blows on her ass, her firm cheeks jiggling with every harsh slap he delivered. Her skin had gone from a faint pink after the initial spanks to a bright red, the sharp sting of his spanks transforming into a deep burn that she could feel in her very bones.

Within minutes her brain was scrambled, her mind too consumed with lust to do anything but sob at the never ceasing blows to her ass. She squirmed futilely on his lap, but it was of no use. Harry ignored her feeble efforts to get away and the fact that she had been too distracted to keep count after the fifth spank, simply content to rain blows down on her poor globes.

“Keep still, silly girl,” Harry growled, shifting his blows to her still unpunished thighs.

Silly girl.

She was a snotty mess, utterly humiliated and being chastised like she was a naughty little girl in need of an attitude correction.

And she had never been wetter in her life. Her thighs were slick, coated with arousal that kept leaking out of her aching pussy.

The pause he took to rest his hand and give her a minute to breathe allowed the sweet melody of her muffled sobs to finally reach his ears. “Does it hurt, Miss Vane?”

“Yes, sir,” Romilda replied, sniffling quietly.

“Do you know why I’m doing this?” Harry asked, gently massaging her bruised cheeks. There would be no sitting down for her the next day, not when they hadn’t even gotten halfway through the punishment.

“Yes, sir,” Romilda murmured, shivering at his gentle touch. It contrasted well with his sterner side. “I acted like an entitled brat with no concern for anyone’s safety or feelings, and I need to be punished,” she mumbled, burying her face in his leg. Her tears were staining the dark fabric of his trousers, forming a large wet stain that Harry intended to wear as a mark of pride.

She wasn’t a bad girl, really. Just misguided. And he was thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to turn the curvy raven-haired girl to the right path.

She felt his hands wrap around her knees and she squeezed her thighs, preventing him from pulling her legs apart.

“What’re you doing, Miss Vane?” His voice was low. Dangerous.

“Please, don’t?” she begged. She wasn’t sure she could survive the humiliation of him knowing how much the punishment was turning her on.

“Miss Vane,” he murmured, his voice carrying in it a note of warning.

There’s nothing weird about this. Pain is an aphrodisiac for some, she reminded herself of another maxim she had read about in Witch Weekly.

She meekly parted her legs, giving him an unobstructed view of the drenched piece of cloth protecting her modesty.

Harry pulled her thong down her thighs, releasing his hold on her legs only for as long as it took to pull the flimsy piece of fabric away from them.

She could feel the bulge poking her belly grow in size as he sniffed at the scent of her arousal that clung to the thong.

“Tell me something, Miss Vane,” Harry asked, carelessly tossing the thong onto his nightstand. “Are you aroused?” His finger was now ghosting over her slick pussy lips, causing her hips to buck involuntarily.

Am I aroused? I feel like I’m about to spontaneously combust!

Yet her pride would not allow her to admit it. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that giving up control was turning her on.

SMACK!

“OW!” Romilda screamed as his open palm made contact with her pussy. “Yes, sir!” she whispered, breathing heavily.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Harry brought his hand down on both her cheeks and then her pussy in quick succession, watching with fascination as the trickle from her slit turned into a veritable flood.

Stella Lawson hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d shared her best friend's fantasies with him.

“You know it’s not much of a punishment if you enjoy it, Miss Vane?” Harry chuckled, his voice amused.

Romilda flushed. It took a minute, but she finally gathered up her courage to retort. “It’s turning you on just as much, sir,” she replied cheekily. The bulge was now so large she was practically lifted off his lap.

SMACK!

Her cheek was rewarded with a hard spank to her thighs. Romilda groaned, her entire body lurching forward. She couldn’t help herself, however, and she pushed her ass back up in the air for him, silently begging for more.

Harry didn’t oblige, ignoring her disappointed groan in favor of massaging her bright red ass. Perhaps the denial of her desires was as much a punishment as what had preceded it.

She whimpered at the gentle kneading of her cheeks, his hands bringing a small amount of comfort to her burning skin.

“If I keep going, Miss Vane, you’ll have to spend tomorrow in bed. And we can’t have that, can we? After all, you have to apologize to Ron.”

Romilda nodded through her tears, sniffling quietly. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that her punishment was coming to an end. Perhaps a bit of both.

He released his hold on her hands and legs, gently pushing her off his lap. Her legs had no strength left in them and she found herself unable to stand. She sunk to her knees, slowly coming face to face with the giant bulge in his trousers.

“C-can I help with that, sir?” She rasped, her throat dry and itchy from the sobs and screaming. She licked her lips in anticipation of his answer, peering up at him through her thick lashes.

“Do you want to?”

Romilda responded with a meek nod.

Harry simply parted his legs, allowing her to squeeze in between them. He clearly expected her to take the initiative. Taking a deep breath, Romilda placed one hand on his thigh for leverage, her fingers moving to the button of his dark trousers. She pushed it open with a quiet ‘pop’. Harry lifted his hips to allow her to pull them down his legs, and that was exactly what she did, her fingers digging into the waistband of his pants and boxers as she pulled them down to his knees.

She froze when she glanced up at the enormity of the challenge before her. She was no stranger to blowjobs, she’d given her fair share during the brief fling she had with Ernie.

But Ernie had been half the size, messy and the experience was usually over in mere minutes. She had a feeling foreplay with her new lover would usually last longer than the entire act with her ex.

“Do you need my help?” Harry asked kindly. His voice was softer than it had been all night and his gentleness fortified her nerves.

She shook her head, taking a second to gather up her hair and secure it into a simple ponytail with the band around her wrist. She gave him a happy smile, the throbbing in her ass complimenting her aching pussy perfectly.

She leaned forward, wrapping a hand around his shaft as her lips placed a cute kiss on his sensitive tip. Spurred on by his quiet hiss Romilda parted her lips as much as she could, slowly pushing herself down on his magnificent girth.

She was able to swallow half his length before she gagged, pulling away from his cock in a moment of panic. She gasped for breath as she looked up at him for his reaction.

Harry didn’t do or say anything, simply looking at the busty girl with a curious glint in his eyes. It was a silent challenge, a demand for her to prove herself.

Her free hand moved to fondle his balls, gently massaging the orbs between her fingers. She attacked his cock with renewed vigor, impaling herself on his length as far as she could. She reminded her to remain calm, her free hand wrapping around the portion she couldn’t swallow and slowly starting to pump. Throughout it all, she never once broke eye contact, her innocent blue eyes staring up reverentially at Harry.

Harry had lost the ability to speak sometime in the last few minutes, simply burying his hand in her hair and groaning quietly as he slumped back into the chair. His breathing grew ragged as she slowly swirled her rough tongue around his sensitive glans, lapping up every trickle of precum that leaked out of him.

“F-fuck,” Harry hissed, causing her smile to grow. She was steadily increasing the speed of her pumping, bobbing her head up and down on the amount she could swallow in time with her hand.

“You’re a cheeky minx, bloody hell!” Harry roared, his sad lack of sexual interactions ever since his breakup with Hannah showing.

He wouldn’t last as long as either of them would have liked, but it was still miles better than anything Romilda had ever experienced. For once, she was actually enjoying sucking cock instead of looking at it as a weekly chore.

“S-shit! I’m gonna…” Harry moaned, the sweet sound causing the drooling girl to speed up her efforts. She tried to swallow as much of his manhood as she could when she felt his balls tighten under her fingers, knowing he was close.

Harry seemed to have different plans, however, pulling her free of his shaft at the exact moment he came. Only some of his cum ended up in her mouth, all of which was promptly swallowed. Dollops ended up splashing against her face and embedded in her hair until Harry grabbed his shaft and guided the tip down at her large bosom, splattering her blouse with his seed.

He was marking her body with his cum. ‘You’re mine.’ That is what his action seemed to say.

Romilda stayed on her knees as Harry caught his breath, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

Harry got to his feet and stretched lazily, his satisfied cock still twitching at the sight of Romilda kneeling in front of him. Her silky raven curls were an utter mess from his time tugging on them and the small dollops of cum that inevitably ended up in her hair. Her face was an even bigger mess. Black trails were running down from her eyes and coating the pink skin of her round cheeks, the ruined mascara intermingling harmoniously with his cum. He watched her tongue dart out absentmindedly, hoovering up all the cum it could reach into her mouth.

“I’ve never been with a girl who actively goes out of her way to swallow my cum, kitten,” Harry murmured, staring approvingly at her efforts to clean her face.

“It’s tasty. Definitely something new, but I like it, sir,” Romilda murmured, easily giving in to the pressure of the hand on her chin and tilting her head upwards. Harry ran his wand over her stained skin, scouring her face clean but making no effort to banish the smell of sex and hedonism that clung to her.

Once the job was accomplished he tucked the wand behind his ear and straightened, stepping out of the pants and boxers that had pooled around his ankles. “Go to bed, Miss Vane. We’re done for the night,” he murmured, tossing the clothes into his laundry basket.

Romilda flushed at the gentle but utterly casual dismissal. She hadn’t expected him to ask her to leave before making love to her. Her needy pussy tingled, the girl so wet that a small pool of her arousal had formed on the floor between her legs.

Not tonight, she thought sadly, pulling her skirt free of its waistband. She whimpered quietly as the fabric brushed the burning skin of her ass and thighs on its way down to cover her legs.

It was clear he wanted her, but it was just as clear that he wasn’t ready to forgive her. Not yet. Tonight’s punishment had been the beginning, not the end of her redemption.

Her eyes flickered over to the comfy bed, her mind straying to thoughts of falling asleep with Harry’s strong arms wrapped around her.

“Your OWN bed, Miss Vane,” Harry elaborated, almost like he could read her mind. He grabbed a towel on his way to the bathroom and she knew she was supposed to leave once she had regained her composure.

“Sir?” Romilda called out, causing Harry to pause at the door.

“Yes, Miss Vane?” Harry asked, looking back at her with raised eyebrows.

“Can I touch myself?” She didn’t quite know why she was asking. It wasn’t like he’d know what she did in the privacy of her own bed. All she knew was that it felt right to ask, even if the answer was more than likely to be no.

“Do you want to keep seeing me for your… corrective punishments, Miss Vane?”

“Yes, sir,” Romilda replied without hesitation. Her throat ached, as did the rest of her body. She needed a long hot shower and some water, a mind-blowing orgasm, and a bed, preferably in that order.

Harry pulled his wand from behind his ear and pointed it at her, murmuring a quiet incantation.

“AH!” Romilda squealed, shuddering at the sudden jolt to her pussy. It was followed by a cold numbness the likes of which she had never felt before.

“You can touch yourself all you want, Miss Vane. But you can’t cum. Not anymore. Not until you see me for your next session.” Harry continued before she had an opportunity to ask. “Tomorrow night at eleven. If you can sneak into my bed without waking anyone up, we’ll have our session.”

If not?

She wanted to ask, but was afraid of the answer. She watched him disappear into the bathroom before she slowly pulled herself to her feet using his bed as support.

She walked over to the mirror set in her lover’s armoire on unsteady feet, taking a moment to study her reflection. She brushed her hair with her fingers as best she could before starting to work on her uniform, trying her best not to look like she’d just had the best sexual experience of her life.

Not that it mattered. Despite her best efforts, the smell of sex and cum still clung to her. Her hair was wild and her face was devoid of its usual makeup. Not to mention her blouse and the many cumstains splattered all over it, turning the thin white fabric into a hodgepodge of opaque and translucent sections.

No, there was no hiding what they had done. There was no forgetting it either. Her numb, tingly pussy would be a constant reminder of her ‘punishment’.

I just hope I don’t run into Stella, she thought as she made her way down the spiral staircase. She slipped into the crowded Common Room, thankfully too noisy and boisterous for anyone to notice her.

She scampered up the staircase leading to her dorms and slammed the door behind her after entering the quiet room. She heard the rustling of curtains around Stella’s bed and she dove into her own, ducking under the covers before Stella had a chance to take a look at the state she was in.

The blonde girl turned from the essay she had been working on, turning to Romilda with a raised eyebrow. “Well?”

“Well, what?” Romilda asked coyly, turning to look at her best friend with a barely disguised smile.

“Did he forgive you?”

Romilda flopped onto her back, staring up at the velvet canopy of her bed. “Not yet,” she murmured, her voice filled with quiet determination.

But he will. I’ll keep showing up till he does.

Notes:

The first in my new series of Extra Smutty Short Stories. 2-3 of these will be written every month based on the ships voted for by you, I hope you enjoyed it! I know I certainly enjoyed writing it. So much so that I've left open the option for a sequel should my Patrons vote for it. The next short story will be Harry/Hermione and will be released next Tuesday!