Bespoke

Bespoke Ch 3

Neville Longbottom has Big Dick Energy

Neville strolled through the lobby of the Ministry of Magic with a steaming to-go cup of coffee from The Copper Samovar in his hand and a gray canvas satchel over his shoulders. As he entered the lift, he took a sip of coffee, but the lid wasn’t secured properly and several tablespoons of scalding liquid splashed onto the front of his robes.

“Shit! Fuck, ow!”

Thankfully no one had joined him in the lift and as the doors closed with a clang, he reached into his robes to pull out his wand to cast cleaning and minor injury healing charms.

Neville had always been a bit clumsy, especially during his time at Hogwarts as he went through puberty. He had grown so quickly and it took weeks to get used to his own new proportions, at which point he would have shot up another inch or two. Now that he was years past his last growth spurt, he supposed there wasn’t any reason for his clumsiness other than that he was usually so deep in thought that he could be quite mindless in his own physical surroundings.

Currently, he was thinking about the morning he had just spent fucking Pansy bloody Parkinson.

Fifteen year old Neville had been terrified of Pansy. Fifteen year old Neville would have lost his mind hearing that future Neville had made Pansy bloody Parkinson orgasm five times in the past 24 hours.

His cock twitched as he thought of the most recent two orgasms that had occurred a little over an hour ago.

Pansy had slept over, albeit begrudgingly, and he had fulfilled his promise to her to wake her up with an orgasm. He had woken naturally a little after five in the morning as he went to the gym at that time every day. Instead of going to the gym to lift weights this morning however, he slipped quietly out of bed, tossed on a pair of gray sweatpants, made a pot of coffee and sat on his back terrace to watch the sunrise. Neville then walked around his gardens and watered and tended to his plants.

He wasn’t sure what time Pansy would wake, but he figured he might as well make them some breakfast while he waited. He hummed to himself a cheery tune as he scrambled eggs, flipped pancakes, and turned sausage in the pan. He cast a stasis charm over the plates of food, then walked back to his room.

Pansy was laying on her side and snoring lightly, but it was just after six at this point and he thought she might not want to sleep in much longer since she had an appointment in less than two hours.

He shucked his sweatpants off then nestled behind her, wrapping his arm around her naked waist and rubbing circles into the soft flat skin of her stomach. She stirred slightly, and he continued slowly on a downward path to her abdomen. Neville drew his other hand up to the back of her head where he sunk his long fingers into her dark and silky locks, massaging her scalp and tugging lightly on the strands between his fingers.

Pansy moaned sleepily as Neville’s right hand descended from her lower abdomen to the tops of her silky thighs and curved to her tight arse, squeezing and massaging the flesh.

“Parkinson,” he whispered into her shoulder.

“Mmm?”

“I need to know you’re awake and fully consenting to the two orgasms I’m about to give you.”

“Mmm.”

“Parkinson, was that a yes?”

“Yes,” Pansy mumbled.

“Good.” Neville pulled his left hand out of her hair and looped it around her neck and down her front, reaching to grasp her left breast in his palm. Her nipple hardened beneath his touch and goosebumps appeared all over her skin as she shivered and pressed her back more fully against his chest and her arse into his groin.

“You are so lovely.” Neville breathed into her shoulder and began to suck and lick there as his right hand slid in between her legs to find it slick. His cock throbbed heavily and he shifted so it could nestle between her arse cheeks.

Gliding two fingers between her wet folds, his hand descended to fully cover her cunt and he pressed his palm against her. Pansy groaned and reached up with both hands to clutch the firm bicep and shoulder of his right arm, allowing him to use his left to continue kneading her firm breast and rolling her rosy pink nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Longbottom, I really, really like that.”

“Is that so?” He circled his palm flush against her clit.

“Mm. You could spoil a girl like this.”

“Do you want me to spoil you? Make you feel the most incredible pleasure you’ve ever felt in your life?”

“Has anyone in the history of the world ever answered no to that question?” She quipped between pants.

In answer, he nipped at her shoulder and lightly slapped her cunt so that she yelped. “Or should I punish you for your smart mouth? Which should it be this morning, hm, Parkinson?” Neville murmured softly into her shoulder.

“Can it be both?” Her tone was more plaintive now.

He slapped her pussy again with a rapid flick of his wrist. She screamed at the combined pain and pleasure as his palm came into contact with her clit and now dripping labia.

“Hmm. We’ll see. I’m going to use a small toy inside you this morning.” He stated as he plunged two fingers inside of her.

Pansy bit her lip and moaned in response. He scraped his teeth along her shoulder before pushing himself up to a seated position and summoning his wand wordlessly.

“Accio bullet.” One of his dresser drawers opened with a small squeak and out flew a tiny bright blue bullet vibrator, landing in Neville’s outstretched hand.

“Open your mouth.” Neville held it out in front of her and she surprised herself by obeying wordlessly, and he pressed the toy onto her tongue and she lapped at it, covering it with her saliva.

He placed his wand back onto the bed beside him, then laid back down behind her, propping himself on his left elbow. He held the toy between his thumb and forefinger and nudged her legs wide open with the back of his hand. Neville pressed the toy lightly against her clit, and it began to pulse softly.

“Oh gods.” Her hips thrust into the air but Neville used his right forearm to keep her pinned to himself.

“How is that, Parkinson?” He lowered his mouth back to her shoulder where he was licking firmly up to her neck.

“Divine.”

“Look at me.” He stopped licking her and pulled his head back slightly so she could look directly into his round hazel eyes. The pulses of the vibrator became a low hum. Her eyelashes fluttered as he moved the vibrator in a tantalizing figure eight over and around her clit.

Neville caught her mouth in his as she let out a long deep moan, flicking his tongue over hers and nipping at her lower lips. He crooked his left forearm around her neck and wrapped his hand firmly around her throat, and as he did so, Pansy’s moans vibrated into his palm.

“You like my hand on your throat, don’t you, Parkinson?” She nodded slightly against him. “Let’s see how wet it’s making you.”

Neville withdrew the bright blue toy from her clit and easily dipped it between her dripping folds.

“You like being choked, then?” Neville murmured into her shoulder as he began sucking the smooth skin there again.

Pansy nodded with her eyes screwed shut. He plunged the vibrator inside her then grabbed his wand from the bed beside him, muttering, “Oscillare.”

She gasped as the vibrator began to move inside her, deep within her cunt until it hit her cervix, then back out until its tip barely protruded from her swollen lips. The vibrator moved along this path at a steady but slow pace. Neville placed his wand back on the bed beside him and ran his right hand up and down her body in deliberate strokes.

With his left hand still pressed firmly to her throat, Neville used his mouth to suck her ear, lick her jaw, and nip at her shoulder. When he muttered another charm into her ear, “Accelere” she cried out as the speed of the toy inside her increased. His right hand crept in between her legs to caress her slick outer labia in a wide oval.

“Longbottom, your fucking hands…” Pansy breathed.

A moment later, Neville muttered “Increbesco,” and the vibrations inside the silken walls of her pussy intensified. Pansy clutched at Neville’s hand as it began yet another infuriating oval avoiding her clit.

“I need you to touch my clit,” she gasped.

“Is that how a naughty girl gets what she wants, Parkinson?” He murmured into her ear.

“Please, Longbottom. Will you rub my clit so I can cum?”

“With pleasure.” In one swift movement, he raised his hand to her clit and began a rapid but feather light pressure side to side across the top of her clit. He whispered two additional incantations each to increase speed and strength of the toy inside her. He caught her mouth with his, still grasping her throat with firm but not suffocating pressure.

“Sweet Circe’s cunt, my gods, yes, yes, yes!” She screamed into his mouth as she exploded into orgasm, body thrashing against his, her pussy clenching around the vibrator. He wordlessly summoned the now dripping toy from her pussy, then sent it zooming to lay on top of his dresser.

Neville waited a few moments and held her close to his chest, then whispered against her shoulder, “Parkinson, I’m going to slide into you now.”

He brought his hand under the knee of her right leg and hooked her foot behind the calf of his own right leg, then shoved his knee under hers and shifted his hand behind her to stroke himself until he was fully erect. Scooting down slightly, he held his cock while positioning his head at her swollen entrance and pressed into her.

She squeaked a high-pitched moan and clutched at his muscular thigh. Neville groaned into her ear as he continued to press into her in a steady unfaltering motion until he bottomed out.

“All right, Parkinson?”

In answer, she grabbed his right hand and brought it up to her breasts, then turned her head back to kiss him deeply.

He growled and began to pump his hips up into her, hitting her cervix each time, then grinding his pelvis against the curve of her arse each time he did.

“You’re so fucking delicious, Parkinson. The way your pussy is clenching my cock right now… it’s driving me insane.”

They both moaned with each thrust, continuing to sloppily kiss as best as they could with the rhythm of his movements jostling them.

Pansy pulled back to look him in the eyes and asked “Would you bite me, Longbottom?” He grinned and kissed her again with fervor, catching her bottom lip in his teeth and then pulled his face away from hers, gently stretching her lip until it popped out from between his teeth.

Neville then began to fuck her rapidly and bit down on her shoulder hard, eliciting a sharp cry from her mouth. He dropped his hand between her legs and started rubbing her clit to match the swift pace at which his cock was currently pumping in and out of her.

“Longbottom, you brilliant bastard,” Pansy grunted out between gasps. She clutched at the sheets and his thigh to gain purchase and to hold herself steady under the onslaught of his punishing thrusts.

“Parkinson, you ready to cum?”

“Please—fucking—pound—me— I’m—so —close!” Pansy gritted out.

Neville squeezed his left hand slightly tighter around Pansy's throat, then added slightly more pressure to his quick brushes at her clit. He licked her neck with broad strokes of his tongue then, without warning, bit down into the muscle of between her neck and shoulder and finally felt her pussy quiver around his cock as she climaxed, screaming.

Neville thrust five more times before he shot his cum deep inside her with a cry of his own, then promptly collapsed around her.

“Longbottom, I’m bloody speechless.”

He grinned as they panted against each other for a few moments, then Neville grabbed his wand and cleaned them up. He summoned a soft gray robe for her, then slipped back into his sweatpants and led her to the kitchen where they scarfed down breakfast and drained cups of strong black coffee.

Pansy showered and returned to the kitchen, wet and naked with her clothes clutched in her arms. She made quick work of transfiguring the denims into black silk wide leg trousers and her silk camisole into a sleeveless black cashmere vest. Next, she freshened her bralette with a charm then stuffed her lacy knickers into her handbag, deciding to go commando. She did all this while smirking at Neville as he leaned against the kitchen island with one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of his sweats, watching her with one corner of his mouth curling up into a lazy half smile.

“Longbottom, it’s really too bad my business is doing so well, otherwise I think I would stay in bed with you for a week.” Pansy said casually as she pulled on her boots and waved her wand over the laces to tie them in a neat bow. She stepped towards him and placed her palms on his naked chest, then tilted her head up to kiss him full on the mouth.

Neville grabbed her arse and squeezed until she squealed. “Owl me with your answer. If you’d like to try your hand at being the sub to my dom, that is.” He said as he pulled his mouth from hers.

He walked her to the Apparition Point at the top of the hill just outside the bounds of his wards, watched her disappear with a pop!, then went back inside to shower and dress for work.

Neville’s daydreams of this morning dissipated as the doors of the lift opened onto Level Eleven, where the Department of Magical Research & Development was located. Exiting the lift, he strolled along the maze of hallways and through various security doors until he reached his laboratory, nodding to various witches and wizards dressed in white lab robes just as he was.

The laboratory was a brightly lit, large room with floor to ceiling windows on one wall which allowed for optimal sunlight for the collection of plants lined up in neat rows along tall shelves against two of the four walls. A built-in hot desk system with filing cabinets and rolling chairs lined the fourth wall, which was where his six assistants sat waiting for him.

Greeting them with a smile and a nod, Neville directed each of them to their assignments for the day and he got to work checking his inbox tray for memos and mail. Finishing this task, he then got to work viewing samples and slides under a microscope.

Neville hummed as he worked, and jotted down careful notes onto a clipboard with a quill after each slide.

After the Battle of Hogwarts and a well-deserved holiday abroad in South Africa with his gran, Neville had returned to Hogwarts for his eighth year and to complete his NEWTs. Throughout that year, he had mostly thrown himself into his studies, but made time to socialize as well, and even had a casual friends-with-benefits relationship with Vivian Gladstone, a strawberry blonde and freckled seventh year Hufflepuff who was also specializing in Herbology. They would frequently be partnered together for their special projects, and found themselves alone in the greenhouses late at night harvesting Baneberry leaves by the light of the full moon or caring for the temperamental Lady’s Mantle into the early hours of the morning.

Vivian had initiated, taking Neville off guard one evening in October by throwing herself at him, kissing him furiously, unbuckling his trousers, and promptly sinking to her knees to give him his first ever blow job. It was with this first encounter that he first realized that he might have a larger than average penis, as Vivian gasped audibly as he sprang free from his cotton boxers. His orgasm was jerky and expedient, but Vivian didn’t seem to mind as she held his hips in place for him to spurt hot cum down her throat. The next night, on the floor of the greenhouse, beneath a potted shrivelfig tree, she took his virginity by sliding up and down his cock, showing him where and how to touch her clit.

They explored each other’s bodies every night once completing their work for Professor Sprout, and Neville learned what a lovely thing it was to give a woman an orgasm with his mouth and fingers, carefully noting any changes in facial expression, breathing patterns, and vaginal secretions as he touched, licked and sucked in different places and at different paces. He loved to watch Vivian’s creamy white tits heave with heavy panting as he fingered her to completion. She loved letting Neville fuck her from behind as she leaned over wooden work tables or knelt on all fours on the cool tiled floors of the greenhouses.

When the school year ended, Neville and Vivian parted as friends as she headed to Alaska to study giant magical spruces.

Coupled with his well-publicized accomplishment of killing Nagini and the fact that he had gotten Outstandings in Herbology and Defense against the Dark Arts and an Exceeds Expectations in Potions (Neville had improved immensely once Snape no longer was instructing him, may he Rest In Peace), Neville had acceptance letters from several Magical Universities across the world. He selected the Universidad Andina in the Andes Mountains of Chile, which was home to one of the foremost medicinal Herbology departments in the world.

There, he studied Applied Herbology & Potions for three years. Neville was slowly learning Spanish, and he joined a study group to help accelerate the process by immersing himself in the language. The group had six members including him, with two witches and three other wizards. The other students were all native South Americans and spoke only a little English. They were all incredibly kind and patient as he struggled slowly to articulate himself in this new language. One of them in particular, Pilar Arenilla Sanchez, offered to meet with him weekly at a coffee shop to practice his conversation skills. Pilar had olive skin, pale green eyes, a long curtain of curly black hair, athletic, muscular legs and a great arse.

After their second meeting in late September, Neville invited her back to his dormitory, and she accepted with a shy smile. In his tiny single dorm room, Neville brought Pilar to orgasm many times, his favorite of which was eating her pussy as he kneeled before her, pinning her against a wall with his large hand and hooking her knee over his shoulder. He loved watching her grab her own tits and throw her head back with mouth wide open, letting out high pitched squeals as she came.

This would become their routine: weekly coffee and conversation followed by an evening of hot sex in his dormitory. Neville eventually asked her if she’d like to be his girlfriend, and she, to his surprise, said yes. Their weekly coffee sessions turned to dinner dates and attending the Muggle cinema throughout the week, sleeping over in each other’s rooms, and nearly constant fucking whenever they had the chance.

Neville and Pilar were together for eight months until the end of term. They separated with promises to keep in touch over the summer and with an open invitation for Pilar to come visit him at his Gran’s home. But their communication fizzled, both of them busy with summer jobs and social lives back in their respective homelands.

When they returned to the University in September, their class schedules didn’t align and they would only see each other in passing once or twice a week. Neville owled her a note, stating he was incredibly grateful for their time together and that he had no hard feelings for the fact that the relationship had run its course.

His second year courses were quite difficult, and he spent much of his time in a study carrel in the library, where he wrote endless scrolls of essays on the various uses of magical plant ingredients. Neville would often take breaks by stretching his legs in the long corridors of the stacks. One evening, after nine o clock, when the library was mostly empty, he brushed past a petite raven haired witch with her nose in a thick volume. He peered at her over his shoulder as he passed her, then promptly tripped over a step stool.

The witch hurried over to help him, fawning over him and asking in a soft voice if he was okay. He grinned and said he would be just fine as long as she gave him a kiss. Her dark eyes went round with shock, but she did indeed kiss him with her full pink lips. He pulled her down to the floor with him and they proceeded to snog heavily. The dark haired witch reached down for her wand and cast silencing charms, then whispered that no one ever came down to this area at this hour.

After asking her for her permission (which she gladly gave), he magically removed her panties, then pulled her to crouching over his face, her floral skirt hiked up around her hips. He sucked and kissed her until she came on his face, then he positioned her over his cock and he fucked her from below until they were both bellowing.

This witch, he learned shortly thereafter, was an assistant librarian named Beatriz. Every few nights for several months, she would knock on the door of his study carrel and pull him into the stacks where they would cast silencing charms and leave suspicious wet spots on the thick and dusty carpet of the library floor.

Beatriz eventually got another job at a university library in Peru, and she and Neville exchanged owls for a month or two. She even took a Portkey to visit him one weekend in March during which they locked themselves in his dormitory trying as many positions in the Kama Sutra as they could (they succeeded in trying twenty-two). After that weekend, Neville got so busy with end of term exams that he forgot to respond to a few of her owls. When he sent her an owl after his last exam explaining and apologizing, Beatriz didn’t respond.

His third year, he had many practical courses in which he was assigned to go out and do field studies in the surrounding wilderness. By October, the high Andes Mountains were already snowy and cold, so the students were given a rucksack with all sorts of supplies for emergency purposes, including tents with undetectable extension charms.

It was the weekend before Halloween that Neville was searching for a particularly rare mountain flower on a large steppe high in the Mountains. Before he knew it, it was almost dusk. He was exhausted and cold, and snow was starting to fall. He decided he was too exhausted to try and disapparate, so he took out the tent and made camp. Neville was sitting in front of a fire he had built, shielded from the falling show by magic, when he heard a soft voice asking if she could join him.

Turning, he saw a woman bundled in a thick fur cloak, a scarf wrapped around her throat and covering the bottom half of her mouth.

“Of course, please do sit.” He rushed to summon a flask of water and offered it to her along with some dried meat and nuts that were packed in the emergency supplies.

They sat in companionable silence as she munched and sipped. She then introduced herself as Noemi Marquez dos Santos, a professor of Advanced Centaur Studies at the University. She had come up to the steppe to seek a particular herd of mountain centaurs to converse with them. The professor was about to disapparate when she noticed his fire and became curious.

Noemi removed her scarf and hood to reveal soft waves of light brown hair and a delicate features with a disproportionately large mouth with full lips and large white teeth.

They gazed at each other over the fire and talked into the night about everything from Hogwarts to wandlore to Giant relations to black market potions. Neville waited for a lull in the conversation to invite her inside his tent.

Noemi hesitated and stated that she really should get back to campus. He nodded and gave a small smile and said that he hoped to see her around the University. She disapparated shortly thereafter and Neville put out the fire, ducking into the tent where he pleasured himself thinking about what shape her mouth made as she orgasmed.

The next week, Neville was back on the steppe around midday when he crossed paths with the professor again. She lunged at him and they spent the next hour fucking on the wide grassy plain with warming and silencing charms around them. Noemi gave Neville her address and invited him to floo there later that evening, which he did. Thus began their passionate affair. It was soon November and far too snowy and cold for them to continue meeting in the mountains, so they would primarily meet late in the evenings in her faculty apartment.

Noemi loved when Neville would take her from behind as she laid facedown on her bed with a pillow under her hips and a thumb pressed against her arsehole. Neville loved when Noemi would ride him as he sat in her large leather swivel desk chair, his feet planted on the ground so he could thrust into her, grip the tops of her thighs and easily extend his thumbs to graze her pussy lips and clit. Noemi would scream his given name as she came.

They spent hours together in various states of undress, discussing wildly varying topics, eating meals together at her small kitchen table, lying in bed studying and reading together, and often falling asleep in each other’s arms. Once, in late April after a particularly adventurous round of fucking and as they came down from their orgasms, Neville told her that he loved her. It was then that she revealed to him that she was actually married, her husband being a professor taking a year long research sabbatical in the jungles of the Amazon.

Neville had rushed from her apartment, confused and angry. He threw himself into the last month of studies and exam preparation, ignoring all of Noemi’s owls and avoiding the mountain steppes altogether even though he had one last field assignment to complete. In May, he attended his graduation ceremony and successfully passed by her with a nod and a smile that did not meet his eyes, then disapparated back to his dormitory with his Gran who had portkeyed from England.

Neville spent that summer back in England applying for research fellowships and working as a forager for a local potions supply shop. Every other evening, he would walk to the nearby village and pop into the local pub for supper. The place was always filled with a young Muggle crowd and Neville would eat quietly in a corner, sipping a lager and reading a book on The Redwood Forest in California, USA (enchanted to appear as a normal Muggle Book). At first he mostly kept to himself, but he soon was invited to join the table of a large boisterous group of university aged Muggles. They bought him a pint and peppered him with questions about himself. Neville was able to give convincing responses that he was a botany graduate student, he had attended a small boarding school in the highlands of Scotland, etc. and currently lived at home with his Gran.

He kept noticing that one of the girls in the group, a petite blonde lass with bright blue eyes and long dark eyelashes, was smiling at him appreciatively. As the group was exiting the pub to head home around one o’ clock in the morning, she introduced herself (her name was Holly Robertson) and invited him back to her place. He agreed and they held hands as she dragged him along the cobblestone lanes to a large country house. They crept through dark and quiet hallways to her bedroom where he stripped her naked and snogged her senseless as he stroked over her firm tits and between her legs. She came on his fingers and laid panting for a moment before reaching into her bedside table for a foil packet. Holly then rolled on top of him, flipped herself around to a reverse cowgirl position and ripped open the package and slid a rubbery sleeve over his cock.

Neville stammered, “Erm… what…?”

She looked at him over her shoulder and whispered loudly, “I’m not on birth control!” and promptly impaled herself on his cock, clutching his muscular thighs.

His cock felt strange and uncomfortable, but he was a smart lad and assumed rightly that this was some sort of Muggle contraception. Neville focused on the sensations he could feel and watched her pert arse flex and his cock, coated in her juices, disappear and reappear as she fucked him. It took much longer than normal for him to explode inside her, but he inwardly shrugged and filed this away as a handy tool he could use to prolong future sexual encounters.

And future encounters with Holly were aplenty. They spent all of June and July finding places in pastures and wooded areas to have picnics followed by fucking of all kinds. Holly loved anal play, and over the course of the summer she invited Neville to progress from inserting his fingers, then plugs, then dildos and vibrators, and finally his large thick cock into her anus. She came a total of three times the first time he fucked her arse, his long arm snaking below to rub her clit in circles. She didn’t seem to mind the fact that anyone in the nearby vicinity might overhear the loud wet slapping or their moans and screams of pleasure as they fucked on a tartan blanket in the great outdoors. He had finally come to appreciate the Muggle contraceptive (which he had learned were called CON-DOMS) as he was sure that his first time fucking a girl’s anus would have ended far more quickly if he weren’t wearing one.

Neville, however nervewracking those first few times outside had been, had also become accustomed to not using his magic to cast silencing charms and even began to enjoy the thrill of potentially being overheard or even seen as they enjoyed each other’s naked bodies.

August came quickly, however, and Neville had been accepted as a research fellow and lab assistant to a prominent Herbologist, Dr. Aroon Channarong, in the remote jungles of Thailand.

Neville and Holly parted as friends; she headed off to begin her masters in Economics in Dublin, and he took a portkey to a small village outside Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Dr. Channarong specialized in Medicinal Herbology and was studying with an indigenous tribe who used psychedelic magical plants to treat diseases. Neville assisted him for a year, aiding with the collection of these plant specimens as well as observing the tribe brew various potions using these plant parts. He and the professor would also observe as the magical people would perform healing ceremonies and rituals with these psychedelic potions. It was there that Neville had his first experiences with magical psychedelics, as the native magical people insisted that he and the professor join and partake at least once.

His first psychedelic healing ceremony was both a terrifying and liberating experience for Neville, as after drinking down a spicy burgundy potion, he spent three hours aimlessly wandering the large stone structure that served as the village center, hallucinating that his mother and father were lucid and fully in their right minds. Neville conversed with them, discussing everything from his time at Hogwarts to his hopes for his future. It was after coming down from this high that Neville decided he would do whatever he possibly could to be able to talk to them like that again.

In hopes of being able to have another similar experience and speak to his parents, albeit as a hallucination, he participated in the next psychedelic ritual. However, as Neville entered the gathering hall, he realized quite soon that this was not the same ritual. The odors wafting from the bubbling cauldrons at the center of the room were perfume-like and musky, whereas the previous potion had smelled of camphor. He also noticed that the age of the majority of the tribe members in attendance was primarily late teens to early thirties, whereas before, the young and old alike had participated. Finally, Neville observed a wizard removing all of his clothing, and when he looked around the room, he saw that he was the only participant still wearing robes. He tried to back out of the gathering hall and out into the night, but one of the tribal leaders jerked him back into the hall and placed him among the crowd where Neville hurriedly removed his clothing.

The tribal leader called out for all to assemble in groups of three around each cauldron, then directed each of them to spit into the boiling silver-colored contents. Neville looked around at the two witches (who he learned were called Junta and Chailai) peering at him from across the cauldron, unsure if he had heard correctly, but it seemed that he had as they both spit aggressively into the depths of the cauldron. As each one did, the liquid inside would hiss and turn a different color: for the shorter, slender witch (Chailai), the contents turned bright green; for the taller, curvaceous witch (Junta), the contents shone a deep fuchsia purple. The two witches looked at him expectantly, so he spit into the cauldron’s depths where the liquid transformed into a bright golden hue, then faded back to a mirror-like silver.

Using a small clay mug, the witches each collected and drank down a measure of the potion. He then shot back his own mug of the sweet liquid without hesitation, shrugging and grinning.

Soon Neville felt a tingling sensation in his testicles that warmed up to his belly and all the way to his throat. Before long, the tribal leader led the trio down a hallway to a small chamber, the floor covered with soft mats and pillows.

Neville laughed aloud at what a strange situation this was, then heard echoing laughter all around him. Junta and Chailai were smiling and giggling with him. He locked eyes with Chailai. They gravitated towards each other and embraced, then shook with laughter as they hugged each other tightly. Somehow, he could feel what the other two witches were feeling, and their simultaneous joy and desire were like threads thrumming through his blood with every beat of his heart.

Neville felt his cock harden and electric tingles radiate from the points where the witch was holding him. He drew away from her to look her in the face, then kissed her ravenously. The pair bumped into Junta who was swaying and smiling at them in admiration, then began to caress them both, her hands moving from their backs to their arses and around to their genitals. Neville stared at them, let out a gleeful chortle, then began kissing each of them in turn.

He soon felt their hands caressing his body all over; his skin felt alive with power. Their excitement and anticipation were like a shot of firewhisky in his belly. Neville laid back on the ground with Junta straddling his waist, circling her hips and eventually sinking his cock into her dripping cunt. As he began to fuck her languorously, Chailai took his right arm and placed his fingers in her mouth. She swirled her tongue along his fingers then spread her legs open next to his head and proceeded to plunge four fingers into herself. He gasped and laughed in delight, unable to take his eyes from the spectacle as he thrust into Junta slowly over and over again.

They continued in this way for what felt to Neville like an entire day. Neville would position the two witches in various positions: eating each other’s pussies, Chailai fucking his cock while sucking on Junta’s large brown nipples as Junta sat over Neville’s face, Neville laying on his belly before the pair sitting side by side and their legs pulled to their chests while he licked and sucked each pussy alternately. Junta leading Neville by the cock to fuck Chailai’s mouth as the witches fingered each other.

The most incredible ecstasy flooded his veins every single time one of the witches climaxed, and Neville knew it was the witches’ emotions and not his own that he was feeling. He was in awe of the intense high of the female orgasm and only longed to replicate it over and over again.

When Neville came to, he was laying flat on his stomach in the small chamber, feeling an extraordinary peace radiating from his being. He remembered everything in stark detail as he looked at Junta and Chailai, awaking alongside him, yet he felt no intense longing or attraction to the two witches with whom he shared this sexual experience, only admiration and gratitude.

The rest of the year passed quickly. He was approached by a few different members of the tribe to participate in the sexual rituals once again, but Neville decided not to participate in any of the psychedelic rituals at all. He devoted himself completely to his tasks of collection, observation, and documentation of his and Dr. Channarong’s studies.

Neville had five extended weekend breaks throughout that year, which he would use by taking Portkeys to various cities in Thailand, Cambodia, and China. He would explore each city, eating elbow to elbow with natives in street market food stalls, wandering into quiet libraries, and following repetitive bass thumping at midnight into dark and crowded clubs. Every trip he would find a beautiful woman to share a bed with for a night or two, Muggle or witch, it didn’t matter to him.

Once his fellowship in Thailand was complete the following June, he spent the next two months traveling across Europe. Much the same as his time in Southeast Asia, Neville would meander through crowded cities, remote forests, and quiet villages, exploring to his heart’s desire and bedding the odd witch or two.

It was in Berlin where he stumbled upon a sex club. It was midnight and after a late dinner, he had headed into the Kreuzberg district. He was dressed casually in a pair of gray trousers and a brown sweater and had been aimlessly wandering the city when he felt a tap on his shoulder. There stood a statuesque brunette woman in a wine red wrap dress, holding out a thick envelope, closed by a black wax seal with a “X” symbol. Neville didn’t speak much German but she smiled seductively at him and gestured for him to join her and a few others (both men and women) standing behind her.

He followed them to a nondescript building with no signage and past a black-suited bouncer through a heavy black door. Inside was a long hallway lined with black doors that opened into a large room with a bar and dance floor. The bar was crowded with people of all ages and backgrounds, some dressed in leather bondage gear, some in finery. The dance floor was covered in a throng of people, moving as one to the beat of the heavy bassline in an EDM song.

Neville approached the bar with the brunette and ordered them both two shots of Jägermeister. He introduced himself and learned that her name was Lidia, that she was a nurse (Muggle term for assistant healer, he knew) and that she had been coming to this club for a little over a year now. He stared into her brown eyes as she told him that she was a Domme, and that she wondered if he might like to try being her submissive this evening. He agreed with a nervous laugh and a shrug, then threw back his second shot of Jager before following her up a dark staircase, through a maze of hallways, and finally to a black door which she unlocked with a small black key.

Once inside the room, Lidia handed him a clipboard with a three-paged legal document and a fountain pen. Together, they read through a list of BDSM and sexual activities and Neville noted with an “X” any activities to which he would not be open. She asked him to select a safe word and write it in the applicable blank on the contract; he chose “Mandrake”. They both scrawled their signatures, then Lidia began her work.

The room was mostly bare apart from a large black four-poster bed and a wide chest with at least twenty drawers. She pulled at the tie of her wrap dress, revealing a black leather bustier with spaghetti straps, over which her tanned breasts were spilling, a black leather garter with silver-buckled straps that hooked to her black fishnet stockings, all extending under her thigh high leather stiletto boots.

Neville grew hard at the sight of her, and he gulped as she instructed him to remove all of his clothing and kneel in front of her. Lidia opened a long drawer towards the bottom of the chest and withdrew a riding crop. She proceeded to drag the crop across his body, snapping her wrist to lightly whip his arse, his inner thighs, his abdomen, and nipples. His cock was heavy and dripping with precum as she circled him.

She squatted in front of him with her legs spread and her arse resting on her heels and dragged her long red nails down his thick cock. He gasped as she continued in this way, allowing her fingernails to graze him intermittently as she jacked him off. She squeezed his balls hard, her nails pressing into his scrotum. He watched as her full breasts bounced, her white teeth bit her large and pouty lower lip, and his eyes dipped lower to see fleshy labia peeking out from behind the narrow leather gusset of her thong. As he began to moan loudly, she abruptly stopped and stood up.

Lidia thrust her cunt into his face, hooking a finger in her thong to slide it to the left, revealing a beautifully pink and fleshy cunt. Lacing a hand in the thick brown locks at the back of his head, she pushed his mouth against her crotch and commanded him to eat her, but use his tongue only.

He lapped at her eagerly, savoring her sweet juices. Neville crept upwards and let his tongue sweep over her clit. A swift crack of her riding crop on his thigh jarred him, and she chastised him, telling him that she wanted this to last, and to leave her clit until she said otherwise.

He complied, tilting his neck to the side so he could lick the lower parts of her cunt. He was pleased to hear her moans as she ground her crotch into him, praising him and saying what a good pussy licker he was. He asked if he could please use his lips and fingers to make her cum, and she stared into his eyes and agreed with a curt nod.

Neville continued to fuck her with his mouth and inserted one, two, then three long fingers inside her cunt. Lidia’s thighs were trembling and her grip in his hair tightened as he closed his lips around her clit, flicking his tongue rapidly. She exploded into his mouth, stilled for a moment, then backed away from him slowly, praising him for an excellent job done, then told him to lie on his back on the bed.

He obeyed and watched as she stood at the chest of drawers, removing several items and approaching him. Lidia kneeled on the bed next to him and proceeded to cuff each of his limbs to the four posts of the bed. She stroked his cock a few times before taking an item she had placed on the bed above his head. It was a blindfold, and she lowered it onto his head and over his eyes. His pulse quickened as the anticipation increased with the removal of his sight.

He felt as Lidia crouched between his legs, heard a click, then a low buzzing. Neville jumped as he felt a vibrating silicone toy on his testicles. A warm sensation grew in his belly and he relaxed into the tantalizing pleasure of the toy. However, he heard a click and a wet squelching noise, then felt a warm liquid against his arsehole. He gasped and Lidia shushed him, pressing what felt like two fingers in circles around his anus. More wet squelching and he felt warm liquid spilling down the length of his cock.

Lidia began to jack him off and continued to circle around his anus with her fingers for several minutes. He was moaning deeply when she removed her fingers from his anus and brought the buzzing toy to press against him instead. She told him to take deep breaths, then she pressed the toy, which he now felt was thin and long, into his anus. Sharp uncomfortable pain turned into deep, roiling waves of pleasure as he grew accustomed to the foreign object within himself.

Her hand disappeared from his cock, and a few moments passed as he heard rustling. He then felt Lidia’s thighs straddling his own as she positioned herself over his cock and began to slide up and down him slowly. She removed the blindfold from his eyes so he could watch her finger her clit as she fucked herself with his cock. Lidia, trembling, came once around his cock, but still moved tantalizingly slowly.

He was so close to cumming himself, but each time he felt the beginnings of an orgasm building in his testicles, she would cease moving and strike the tops of his thighs with her crop. They spent what felt like twenty minutes in this way, Neville watching her slide up and down his length, Lidia’s cool smirk playing across her mouth as she brought him closer and closer to his release, only to deny him as he stood on the brink.

Lidia finally asked him if he would like to cum, and Neville, gasping, said that yes he would, please and thank you. She ripped open the laces of her bustier, allowing her gorgeous tits to fall into his face as she bounced on his cock and reached behind herself to cup and squeeze his balls. When she whispered in his ear for him to cum for her, he roared and exploded stream after stream of cum against the walls of her cunt.

After lying together on top of the bed for a few minutes, Lidia asked if he would like to meet her again the next evening. He agreed and so they did. They met each evening for three nights in a row as Lidia introduced him to a world of pleasure laced with pain and denial that ended with the most incredible orgasms Neville had ever experienced in his life.

His week in Berlin came to a close, however, and he asked Lidia if he could write to her, so they exchanged contact information and he headed back to England for the last two weeks of summer.

Neville and his gran spent those weeks at their home in Hampshire. He had already accepted a position as a research fellow at the Ministry of Magic, and instead of living with his Gran and commuting by Floo every day, he had decided to rent a flat in Diagon Alley with an old Gryffindor chum, Jack Sloper. Jack and Neville had caught up after running into each other outside the Floos after Neville’s second and final interview for his research fellowship. Jack had spent the past two years working at the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Jack’s old roommate was getting married, so it was perfect timing for Neville to move in and occupy the second bedroom of the small London flat.

The next two years sped by as Neville worked a junior research role in the Department of Magical Research & Development (DMRD) under a brilliant and kind wizard named Benjamin Ogden. Ogden was researching to develop new hybrids of magical plants for the Ministry, with no end goal but to simply cross breed and record results and characteristics of new strains of magical plant life. Neville enjoyed his time working under Ogden, who was a great mentor.

Neville and Jack spent their weeks working until six in the evening, would usually take turns cooking, then would head to a rotation of pubs and bars where they would meet other Hogwarts alum, participate in Quiz Night, or pull witches. Jack was a ladies’ man, and would more often than not bring home a new witch to shag quickly and loudly in his bedroom down the hall from Neville’s.

Preferring his lifestyle of serial monogamist, Neville began a pattern of meeting a beautiful witch out, wowing her with his performance in the bedroom, then proceeding to date her for weeks or months at a time until things fizzled and he moved on to the next.

When Jack commented on this at one point, Neville shrugged and laughed it off, but over the next week he pondered if he should be doing something differently. In the end, he reminded himself of the fact that he was still so young: now was the time to throw himself into his work. He wasn’t opposed to long term relationships as a whole, but he certainly had yet to meet someone for whom he’d sacrifice the time and energy he set aside for his career.

Neville’s gran passed January of 2005, during his second year at the Ministry. She had been traveling in Mallorca after Christmas and had contracted an especially bad case of Dragonpox. After a week in St Mungo’s, she had slipped away in her sleep.

The young wizard was granted two weeks of bereavement leave during which he, as the heir to his Gran’s estate due to his parents’ mental incapacitation, dealt with all funeral plans and financial affairs that were placed on his shoulders alone. A mob of witches and wizards attended his gran’s funeral, so it was a rather touching affair, albeit a mostly drunken one. Harry, Ron, and all his old Hogwarts chums rallied around him before and after the burial and at the wake. There was not one dry eye in his gran’s old house, nor was there a dry cup.

Neville ended up in bed with Susan Bones that night, but the next morning he was ashamed to say that he dismissed her shortly after waking with a bear of a hangover, expressing to her that he just wanted to be alone.

And alone was what he truly felt. Without his gran, he felt like it was him against the world. His parents would always be there in St Mungo’s, but never truly there in the way that mattered most and the way that he needed most of all.

Neville was able to push off most of the financial dealings to the family solicitor, but remained in the London flat with Sloper until he felt ready to make a sound long term decision about his gran’s house. That spring, however, Neville made the difficult decision to sell her country house, electing to keep a few boxes of photo albums and knickknacks, but sold or donated the rest of the house’s contents.

In September of 2005, Mr. Ogden announced to Neville and the other researchers that he would be retiring. To send the aged wizard off into his golden years, Neville organized a party at the Leaky Cauldron, where the entire DMRD gathered. Late into the evening, Neville and Ogden were both tipsy and happily singing old drinking songs. After finishing the final notes of The Freckled Speckled Hag and the Sleepy Dwarf, Ogden slurred to Neville that he thought of him as a son, that Neville had a bright future, and that he had better apply for his vacancy if he knew what was good for him.

So the following Monday, Neville did. He had spent all weekend drafting a proposal in which he laid out his plans for researching new treatments of so-called incurable maladies. He owled Dr. Channarong and his Universidad Andina professors, as well as Professor Sprout, asking for letters of recommendation. Two weeks later, after two interviews with the department head, Neville had been offered the position. He celebrated by owling his solicitor requesting estate agent recommendations and by writing to Lidia and inviting her to London.

A week later, he was in a lush hotel room in the West End, flat on his back with his wrists tied to a headboard and clamps on his nipples as Lidia rode his face. She spent a week in London, leading Neville to dark and intimate cocktail lounges, an electronics store where she insisted that he purchase a mobile telephone device (it was the twenty-first century, how did he function without one, she asked him incredulously), and finally to a sex club called Lair she had heard about from a friend.

They spent two nights there, first in private rooms, then in the larger chambers where Lidia rested a hand in Neville’s lap as they sat side by side in a small audience watching a male Dom play out an edging scene with his female sub. Lidia boarded a train back to Berlin two days later, and Neville spent almost every Saturday until Christmas at Lair, entranced by the scenes played out in the large open chambers, but also spending time at the bar, nursing a Scotch until he would lock eyes with a witch and let himself be led into a private chamber for a round of fucking.

Professionally, Neville had already experienced some breakthroughs in his research. Some of the compounds he had developed from the red phantom leaf shrub, which was one of the plants used in the hallucinogenic potions he had imbibed in Thailand as part of the healing ceremony, was successful in preliminary trials of slowing the progression of Gorman’s Disease, which was a rare magical disease in which a witch or wizard slowly lost their magical ability. It was this success which created a stir within the Ministry and prompted a small article in the Daily Prophet to be written about his project.

The next six months flew by as his department head encouraged Neville to throw himself into his work further to be able to take this treatment from trial stages to further testing and then to be approved for use in medical facilities. Fundraisers and galas were organized in order to infuse the project with renewed cash flow so that Neville could expand his team from three assistants to six.

Which was what led him to Pansy Customs. At one such gala in June, Neville had been joking with Kingsley Shacklebolt, current Minister of Magic, about the state of his dress robes, which his gran had purchased for him when he was 15. Kingsley had ribbed him, stating that at the very least he would be prepared for a flood, but then furrowed his brow and lowered his voice, prodding him to please for Merlin’s sake go get fitted, here was a business card for a great place.

Neville stared at the card in his hand and chuckled softly to himself at the irony of it all. He would never have guessed to be in need of dress robes, and that Pansy Parkinson, of all people, would come highly recommended for her superior service. Curious, he decided the following week to stop by her shop after work.

Present day Neville blinked at the clipboard in his hand. He held a long gray quill in his hand tightly as he thought about the most recent findings for the newest compound they were testing on human stem cells.

“Sir, there’s a package for you.” One of his male assistants, Daniel Fredericks, was standing just out of sight. Neville whipped around and knocked the package out of the young wizard’s outstretched arms. It skittered across the tiled floor before bumping into the wooden base of a bookshelf. Thankfully no other damage was done, but Neville gushed an apology to Daniel as he stepped across the room to bend down and retrieve the brown parcel.

His name was scrawled in sweeping calligraphy across the package, but no return address was listed. Neville turned it over in his hands, then ripped the package open, the wrappings falling to the floor.

Inside was a compact box with flashy white and black text and photos all over it. The photos were still, which meant to Neville that it was of Muggle origin. It looked to be some kind of tiny handheld Muggle computer, which Neville had the barest experience with during his time with Holly as she would check something called E-MAILS on her LAP-TOP computer device. Flipping the box over, he read the word “Blackberry” in bold print across the top of this side.

Daniel stooped down to pick up the wrappings.

“Mr. Longbottom, there’s a note here!” His assistant thrust a thick white envelope embossed with “PC”, under which “Longbottom” was scrawled in the same sweeping calligraphy as the outer wrappings.

Neville opened the envelope and read.

“Longbottom,

I accept your proposal. I do look forward to our future encounters, and will try my best to be a good little submissive for you, despite the high likelihood that I will be shite at it.

I’ve taken the liberty to purchase you a Muggle device which I used a lot in New York, called a Blackberry mobile. Just press down the button on the upper right side and it will power on. You’ll know what to do from there.

Xxx,

Parkinson”