A Study in Biology
As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's posted up past FWB2 Ch. 30 there.
And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to my DISCORDhere:https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw
Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.
Chap. 2 (Friends with Benefits Ch. 113): A Study in Biology
What followed Harry's announcement of his summer plans had been one of the laziest, least-productive afternoons of his entire life. It was a far, far cry from gardening in the heat, trimming the grass under the drought-stricken Surrey sun, and then painting fences (again), or moving boxes from one side of the Dursley's garage or attic to the other with minimal air conditioning.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger had taken Hermione off to the library so that they could start planning how to stock it, or rather, finish stocking it since there were already many hundreds of books that Fleur had ordered since Harry's first visit to the manor. The French woman had gone with them at first, but after an hour had begged off to take a nap. No one could blame her after the late party, where she had been introduced to many of the rest of Harry's friend circle in a most intimate way. Harry hadn't seen her until dinner, and she still looked a little wane and tired, though she smiled through her quiet conversations with everyone else.
He'd shagged Romilda a few times, more out of boredom than any real need, though the girl was as always a most eager and willing partner. Lilith had joined in the first time but not the second, begging off for a few hours to 'run a few errands in the south'. Harry took that to mean something in Little Whinging, perhaps maintaining her control over Petunia Dursley. Whatever it was, he decided he didn't care to know. He trusted the Succubus completely, and if she had business to attend to, he was sure it was at least mostly to his good.
Thinking about it made him debate ringing up Dudley for a chat, just to check in on his cousin. In the end, he decided instead to simply write a letter and mail it through the muggle post, properly. If nothing else, he grinned at the thought of making his cousin actually hand-write a letter in response. Or would Dudley be smart enough, now, to use a computer to type up a response, instead?
He'd also made a note to himself to see if there was a telephone line connected to the property. He couldn't recall seeing one in the house, but there were enough muggle appliances, including the telly in his bedroom and the massive projection television in the theater room that he was sure it could be done. If nothing else, it would make keeping some contact with Dudley a little easier.
Harry was, honestly, a bit bored by the time dinner had come and gone. He'd had more conversation at the meals than at any other point in the day. Without Ron badgering him to play chess, or Hermione badgering him about homework (and he'd already started on that by four in the afternoon!), or a bevy of beautiful young women to shag, well...
What else was a young man to do with his time?
He debated going for a fly, but wasn't sure the property was properly warded. Tracking down Fleur and waking her up seemed rude in the afternoon, and Lilith had been out of range to communicate with over their Bond for most of the afternoon. Hermione, even with her Mage Sight, claimed that she wasn't familiar enough with the enchantments to tell when he'd worked up the courage to interrupt her time with her parents.
Which... really just left Pansy to entertain him. Not that she was a last resort, by any means, but he eventually tracked down the dark-haired girl in the room she had chosen for her own on the top floor. His bedroom was on the East side of the house, above the porch and entryway, while hers was around the corner from one of the still-unchosen bedrooms there, the first of three down the northern hallway.
She was laying sideways on her bed with her head propped up on one arm while she read some thick tome with crisp white pages. Her shoulder-length black hair was held back in a tail that rose up and out from the right a few inches, no doubt to keep as much as she could off her neck in the warm room. Her outfit was simple, but showed her increasing penchant for wearing muggle clothing that he'd noticed on their first actual date in the Three Broomsticks. A simple t-shirt, possibly borrowed from Hermione though it fit her well with their similar builds and bust size, of plain white with a barely-visible black bra beneath it on top, with a pair of white denim shorts that did a fine job of showing her luscious, pale thighs. Short, ankle-length socks once again displayed a football team, this time one Harry recognized on sight: Manchester United.
The sight made him smile, and not just because he quite enjoyed shagging the girl. Pansy had become a delight just to talk to, as well, and seeing her putting an effort into learning more about the muggle world was fun to see. He imagined it as something like a second-world citizen coming to the U.K. as an exchange student, and experiencing all the wonder and culture shock they could... and loving it.
She didn't seem to have noticed him, for Pansy turned another page without looking up or greeting him as he stood in the doorway. Was it creepy of him, to simply watch a girl he cared for reading for a bit? Harry decided he didn't care. The evening was young yet, everyone in the house was awake. Even though he barely even knew the Grangers, he had spent several hours driving with them, had shagged Hermione's mother almost a year ago, and had a rather emotional few conversations with her father. That meant he could feel them, too.
Harry wasn't sure if it was because of Hermione's own bond with them (which was strong, he knew, what had possibly led to her Daddy fetish, if it truly was one), or because his empathic abilities were just growing that much stronger. Either way, he knew where they were, and that both were awake. Talking, if he had to guess, though about what he couldn't be sure. They were also almost directly below Pansy in one of the guest rooms a floor below, though he couldn't hear anything. The house was, he knew from Lilith's tour, exceptionally well sound-proofed due to what she expected of his life going forward. Children, frankly, didn't need to hear people going at it constantly.
Pansy, though... she was randy. Not overly so, but she was definitely thinking naughty thoughts. About him... about Ron. About Lavender... that was interesting. How much the other girl had relished in being Harry's Pet the night before, and how much she had enjoyed showing that off for everyone. Not just arousal, but... jealousy? Yes... that's what it was. Pansy had enjoyed it too, he knew that full well. Apparently, not quite as much, though.
For the Slytherin witch, it was more being made to do it that had gotten her off. Doing what she'd been told. That tracked with what he knew of the women, of course. Lavender very much enjoyed being taken, being forced to do things that would be outside of most anyone's nature... hence how he'd taken her virginity without her knowing for sure it was him, and in doing so, made her into something of a personal pleasure slave... even as much as they both enjoyed sharing her around Gryffindor. But Pansy enjoyed obeying. It might be a subtle difference to some, but even now she was thinking about what she would do if Hermione entered the room and told her to strip for her father. Not that Pansy herself had a father fetish, but... she would probably do it, he knew, simply because someone Pansy thought of as dominant over her had told her to do it.
And who, among Harry's friends, did Pansy consider dominant over her? That was a good question. Ginny, probably, and Ron certainly. Hermione, definitely, and likely Lilith too, aside from Harry himself of course. But what about Daphne? The petite Tracey? Susan, Hannah, or the Patils? He would have to find out... or at least, he would find out, eventually. There was no rush. Once again, Harry imagined himself having a life.
A life with his family, including Pansy, and he smiled once more. "Hey."
Pansy startled visibly, her face jerked toward the door specifically. She smiled when she saw him though, "Hey. You startled me, Harry."
"Sorry. I'm not intruding...?"
"No, not at all," Pansy told him, gesturing down at the book, "It's quite fascinating, but it's a little hard for me to understand the letters sometimes. The As in particular... but how did the muggles get them so neat?"
As she gestured at the book, Harry stepped into the room and realized it was not some arcane grimoire that they might study in school, but a textbook. A muggle textbook. One that, if he had to guess, focused on biology or health, given the diagram of the digestive tract on the lower half of one page. "You... you've never seen a printed book?"
"Of course I have," Pansy snorted, sitting up, "but I thought that was a magical invention. The Daily Prophet only went to print in my mother's youth."
That made Harry grin, "I'm not sure on the exact date, but you should look up the Gutenberg Bible once Hermione's encyclopedia set gets here... or she orders a new one. In fact, if you enjoy studying, you should just read... well, all of that."
"What's a Gutenberg?"
Harry shrugged, half-way into the room, "He was the guy who invented them, I think? The printing press. Uh, you don't mind if I come in?"
Pansy gave him the strangest, most confused look he'd ever seen on her face, then asked, "Why would you ask that? It's your house. You can come in if you want to."
"But it's your room," Harry protested.
"In your house," Pansy repeated, as if what she was trying to get across was obvious.
Harry's eyes screwed up in thought for a moment, but all he could say was, "It's still your room, and me coming in without permission was rude."
"I didn't think so," Pansy shrugged, glancing down at the book for a moment, then raising her attention back to him. "You own the house, you own... well, me, in a sense, and... and as the owner of the home, it's your right to go where you please. I'm here at your leisure, after all."
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his perpetually-unkempt hair, "This is one of those weird pureblood things I'll never really understand, isn't it?"
She blinked, then shrugged again, this time with just one shoulder that made the loose neck of the t-shirt slide down off her shoulder a bit. "I suppose so? I would have thought it's just common sense, but... the older I get, the more I realize I don't know very much. But yes, Harry, you can come into my room. Even if I'm changing, I..." Her voice dropped several decibels, "I like being... at your service."
"And I like having you there," Harry agreed, stepping up to her bed but not sitting on it, or the chair at the desk nearby. "But you aren't my slave, Pansy. At least, not outside the bedroom."
He tried to joke, and Pansy smiled along with him, but she shook her head and looked down, "I know, Po- Harry. I know. But I still... this is hard to say, hard to even think, but I... I look to you. For guidance, for... what Hermione calls a moral compass. You're just so... good. Upright, honest, and I... I admire that. I want to be like that. That's why I listen to what you say. I have, ever since that night on the tower."
He grimaced at the reminder of that dark night, but by now he understood that she didn't think of it the same day now. If she ever even had. Still, it was hard for him to think about how cruel he could be, how selfish. It was by luck alone that Milly and Cassius had found each other that night, or that Pansy had actually listened after what he'd done. "Okay, I... I can understand that, even if I think you're a little mad for it. I'm hardly a saint, Pansy. But, because of that, or as part of that, I believe it's better to respect someone's right to privacy. If you want to be left alone, just tell me no. I won't be offended. Probably, anyway. But if you're in here because I've upset you, or- or for whatever reason and just want some alone time, it's alright to say no. I'll do my best to respect that."
"That's fair," Pansy told him, "and that proves my point about you being a good person, Harry. I... I wouldn't much enjoy being your- your Submissive, if you were... well, anything like Draco, for example. I can't believe I used to like that prick."
Harry chuckled, "We're all still dumb kids, I guess. I can't believe it either, but hey, don't be too hard on yourself. You're a different person than you were back then."
Her eyes narrowed skeptically, "If you follow that logic, then I'm a different person than I was this morning, or five minutes ago, or even a second ago."
"Yep."
Again, Pansy frowned, "But that's- you aren't supposed to agree. That's not how arguments work."
"I'm not arguing," he laughed, "You're right. It's not much different, but even just biologically, our cells are constantly dying and being reborn. I read somewhere, or maybe I heard it from Hermione, that basically every seven years we're entirely new people, with all-new cells."
"That's ridiculous," Pansy scoffed, "I'm the same me I've always been."
"Then how do you grow?" Harry asked, gesturing to the book, "You add new cells all the time. You lose them all the time, too, especially off your skin. At least I think that's the way it works. I haven't studied it since before Hogwarts, but I remember some from Primary."
Pansy frowned... thoughtfully. Then she looked down at the book, and sighed. "I have so much to learn."
"Oh? You're actually studying? I saw it was a textbook, but I thought you were reading for fun."
"It can be both," the girl replied, sounding almost as offended as Hermione would be by the insinuation. "I'm not Hermione, but I do enjoy being modestly intelligent and educated. I... I didn't even know what a cell was until three hours ago. I... Hermione recommended I learn more than just what Healers are taught. I didn't understand, but when I saw the table of contents in this book, I started to get it. Muggles... they know a lot that wizards just... don't. I'm not going to underestimate them again, but sometimes it's hard to wrap my mind around it all."
Harry nodded sympathetically, "I understand, I think. It was kind of the same for me when I first walked into Diagon Alley and really saw our world for the first time. Only, the muggle world is a hundred- or ten thousand, or something- times bigger. And they're more prone to research. Anyway, I've bothered you enough. I'll let you get back to-"
"No, wait, stay," Pansy said quietly.
Harry glanced back, half turned to the door already to find her chewing her bottom lip in a way that reminded him strongly of their swottiest lover. "Can... can I make some comparisons with you? For... for science?"
"I suppose," Harry replied, shrugging and returning to the side of the bed. "What do you need?"
Pansy swallowed, glanced at the book, and then dog-eared one page before rifling back through it for two chapters. "Take- take your pants off, please. I know you're different, physically, because of your Bond with the Succubus. I feel it, too. And I know you can alter your shape and form, but I'm curious what... what other changes there might've been."
Harry grinned, already reaching for his jeans, "If you want me to get naked, you just have to say so, Pansy."
She shook her head, blushing, "I- I mean it. I'm curious."
When Harry was done lowering his pants to the floor, Pansy swallowed loudly, then looked down at the book. "Y- Your penis is... what, five inches, flaccid? This book says the average is between two and three. For a healthy young man of European background."
Harry nodded, "I guess that's right. Most books like that are pretty rigorously checked to make sure they're accurate, but the studies they do to get the measurements might be flawed."
"Hermione mentioned something like that," Pansy agreed, then held up her hand next to him. She didn't even touch him directly, but the sheer proximity of her next to his member made it start to swell slowly.
"Sorry," he told her, "it just does that when a pretty lady is around. Especially if it's out in the open."
"I'm not complaining," Pansy winked saucily, "I... was kind of hoping for a visual aide. You see, the book also says that an erect penis for a European is usually between four and five inches... despite what some media depicts it as."
Harry grinned. He hadn't seen too much of that himself, thanks to the restrictions the Dursleys had placed on him, but his personal experience around others had led to essentially the same conclusion. Ron and Neville were both outliers in their own way, one long and thin, the other short and thick, and Dean was perhaps the largest in their dorm before Harry's augmentations. But all the others that had been involved in the early stages of his friend's rune application rituals had been around that size. He, however...
"And you're longer than my hand," Pansy muttered, almost sounding annoyed, "Not even fully up."
"I mean, I haven't measured," Harry shrugged, "Seems kind of pointless when I can just change it."
"H- Have you? I mean, currently? Is this... normal?"
Harry nodded, "Normal for me, as far as I can tell. I don't usually walk around with a two-foot-long monster in my pants, that'd just be uncomfortable. It feels relaxed and unaltered, but I can't really say for sure. I definitely got bigger over the last year though, at least a couple inches at full."
The witch's brows furrowed in thought, "And has it continued?" While she asked, Pansy held up her lower arm to his rod instead, holding it nearly parallel to the floor as he slowly rose higher.
"You can touch it if you want to see it fully hard," Harry chuckled, "but no, I don't think so. It mostly grew in the first six months or so after I Summoned Lilith. By the time Ginny got her second Rune-set it was pretty much done, I think."
"Hm. Well, in the interests of learning..." Pansy didn't grab his shaft, though. Instead, with an almost-nervous look upward, she turned her other hand palm-up and dragged her nails lightly along the underside of his balls.
Harry jumped a little, but Pansy didn't stop. Instead, she grinned up at him, "Oh, Master likes that?"
"He does," Harry admitted, "I didn't expect it, that's all."
Of course, her touch, light though it had been, completely diverted Harry's intentions from being an object of study (even if it was a bit arousing in a strange way) to more immediate, lust-related concerns. He didn't move or do anything different, but no doubt Pansy somehow sensed the shift in his mood, because she looked up at him, "And now you're quite hard, Harry... perfect."
Dutifully, she made a show of holding her arm up to his shaft. It took her a moment to align them properly, but Pansy made a point of aligning the base with the inside of her elbow. His tip, from there, rose up past the arm and into her palm. Convenient, as she twisted her arm to cup his thick head inside her hand and give it a squeeze, the warm length of her arm pleasant against the side of his cock. "Oh... that's quite impressive. At least ten inches, I'm pretty sure that's how long my lower arm is."
"Hm. And yet you take the whole thing."
"Not in my throat," Pansy disagreed, "at least not easily. I don't know if I'll ever be the queen Hermione is, but I can take most of it, at least. It's great in my arse, though, and in my p- pussy."
"It feels great there," Harry told her, "like I belong there."
Pansy's head cocked to the side. "What do you mean?"
"I've talked to others about it before," he shrugged lightly, "but... It feels good, of course. Sex is great, and I've only ever found it not great with one person, one time. But there's sex for sex's sake, and then... sex with people I care about. People I love. That's much better. Hannah, for example, or- or Cho Chang, before she... died. But then..."
Pansy didn't say anything, though she did start to slowly twist her hand around his head lightly, while the other hand started playing with his testicles gently.
Harry reached down to cup her jaw, prompting the witch to look up at him again. When their eyes met, he told her quietly, "Then there are girls that feel like home. Like I belong with them. Inside them, near them. Hermione, Ginny, Luna..."
Her face fell slightly as he paused, though it rose again a moment later into a quiet delight, "You."
Maybe, though she would never admit it, Pansy got a little misty-eyed as she sighed, "Oh, Harry..."
"There are others," he continued, "You can probably guess most of them."
Pansy nodded, blinking and then wiping one tear away before she resumed working his genitals, "The girls you have on the top floor."
"Exactly. My girls, my lovers, my- my future wives. At least, those I'll consider as such, no matter what the law says."
She swallowed, then seemed to come to a decision as she stopped being a tease (no matter how pleasant the light contact was), and started stroking him in earnest with both hands pumping his shaft. "Alright, that's it, Potter. Your words are winding me up more than any amount of foreplay. How do you want me?"
He laughed. "Uh... any way, and all ways? And always, too, for that matter, I suppose."
Pansy rolled her eyes, "Not what I meant. I seem to recall I owe you at least a dozen orgasms. I'd like to start repaying that debt."
Harry grinned wolfishly, "Daring... bold. I like it. One problem, though. I seem to recall as well that if we shag, you cum much more easily than I do."
She blushed. "S- So?"
"So if you start repaying the debt that way, you will just end up more in the hole. So... You know what? I love your tits. How about you just keep wanking me for now, but I'm going to play with your baps."
"Ah- Alright," Pansy replied, looking away a little. But she didn't stop.
Nor did Harry hesitate. Not anymore. This girl was his, and they both knew it. There was no reason for them to be shy around each other, not anymore. So he reached down for the hem of her shirt and pulled it up on just one side. That same hand pushed down her black bra, pulling out one hefty breast, then started kneading it firmly, as he knew she enjoyed.
Pansy sighed and pushed herself into him, her hands growing every more deft. Then she leaned in and licked a bit of pre-cum off his tip, before swirling her long, dexterous tongue around the cap. She didn't take him in her mouth, though. "You like my tits, hm?"
"I love them," Harry chuckled, "I mean, I like all breasts pretty much. Big, small, in between... but yours are particularly lovely, yes."
"I'm glad," the beauty told him, then licked him again, her hands moving just a little faster. "But- lmn- this isn't- slrp- what you wanted. You want my tits, right?"
Before he could respond, Pansy shifted her grip and leaned back, then forward again while angling him down, so that he slid up under her shirt and between the pillowy mounds it stretched across. "Oh, Merlin," Harry groaned, "Where'd you learn about this?"
"I saw you, with Hermione and Lavender," Pansy chuckled, "I do pay attention, you know. At first I was confused as to why they'd do it, or why they seemed to enjoy it, but-"
Her words were interrupted by a moan as Harry pumped once against her chest. "Yes?"
Pansy's eyes were dusky with lust as she looked up at him and said, completely blush-free, "Then I remembered I have more sensitive breasts than either of those two. And it feels amazing."
"It does for me too," Harry told her, then arched his back to lean down far enough to kiss the girl without pulling his shaft free from its nesting-spot. "I love your whole body, Pansy, just as I love you. This is great... don't stop."
"I don't intend to," she told him. "I want you to cum in my mouth, though. I'm borrowing this shirt, and I don't want it stained."
"It is Hermione's?"
She nodded, "We talked about clothes a bit with Fleur earlier, and they suggested I try it. I have to admit, they're quite comfortable."
"They look great on you, too," Harry told her sincerely as he started thrusting languidly between Pansy's tits. "Merlin, this feels so good. You're made for this, Pansy, I swear."
"I'm glad you enjoy it," she whispered huskily, "but don't hold back, Harry. I'm your Slave and your Slut. My body exists for your pleasure in every way that matters. Use it... use me."
He swallowed. Harry wanted to ask if that was what she really wanted... but he didn't need to. He knew it. Knew it with every thread of his soul, every knot that bound them. "Your wish," was the only nod he made toward a reciprocal arrangement between them, before he stepped forward and pushed Pansy back onto the bed. He knee-walked up her body without hesitation, though a bit awkwardly as his pants were still around his ankles, so that her thighs bore the weight of his feet as he straddled her chest.
Pansy sighed, her eyes rolled in pleasure as he sheathed himself in the precious valley once more and started humping madly. Her hands pushed the soft, fatty flesh together over the shirt, but Harry could see both nipples press outward through it, one a little more clearly than the other since it was braless on that side still. He wanted to see them...
But he also didn't. The bra and shirt helped hold them together, forming a more tight passage. He didn't need lube, not this time, though he could already feel heat building from the friction. Pansy's tits, large and full, easily D-cups or double-D's, bounced and rolled and bent around her fingers as she played with them while holding them in place for his pleasure.
Before long, he felt her hips grinding up against his bum... but she didn't reach a hand down to touch herself. Instead, Pansy only watched his face carefully as he grew inexorably closer to orgasm. He didn't bother fighting it, but didn't hurry it either. Instead, Harry felt it coming on naturally... and not that slowly.
Maybe it was the foreplay, longer than he was used to, brief though it had been. Maybe it was the stimulating conversation, though it was short too. Maybe it was his feelings for the witch beneath him, which continued to grow and deepen... or maybe her devotion to him, in turn.
Or, perhaps, it was all of the above. Whatever the case, Harry tit-fucked Pansy for only about five minutes before it became too much. "Cumming," he grunted.
Pansy wasted no time in yanking the already-stretched collar down and tilting her head up, with her mouth wide open to receive his seed. His first pulse landed against the top of her mouth, and she flinched, but forced herself to stay open. Another plastered her left cheek as he jerked and twitched orgasmically, but the rest landed either in her mouth, or an uneven line down her chin and delicate throat.
That, Pansy made a show of lifting into her mouth with her fingers, then leaned down to suckle his head, pulling the last of Harry's cum from his cock with relish. He groaned at the attention, and when she released him, pulled himself out of her delightful bosom and slid back to lay over her a bit. "Swallow, my love," he commanded.
Pansy pouted, clearly enjoying the taste of his spunk in her mouth, but obeyed.
Then he kissed her, ignoring the salty after-taste and scent, choosing to focus on the arousal wafting off her body, instead. "I'd love to repay the favor... but if you want to clear a debt I don't track anyway, that's up to you."
"I do," she whispered, "I liked doing that. Might've- might've even cum a little, too. It felt better than I thought it would."
Harry smiled, pleased, "I'm glad. Mine was amazing, so that's one less you owe me, I suppose. Ah... next time, let's do this with you bare. Maybe me playing with you will get you to cum."
"If you say so, Harry," Pansy chuckled. "Come on, I should get back to reading. I'd like to finish that chapter before bed."
"Alright, alright, I know when I'm not wanted," he laughed, rising.
Only to be pulled back down to meet the witch's suddenly fierce gaze, "I always want you. Never doubt that."
He nodded, surprised by her vehemence, then kissed her again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's a joke, a figure of speech."
"Good. Now get out of here, you lout. I've got a mess to clean up, now, thanks to you."
He laughed, knowing she was just as serious as he'd been moments earlier.
Yes... he could go to bed satisfied. Even if his night wasn't quite done yet.