Of Stress and Grief
After Fred’s funeral, a furious George found himself balls deep into a young woman he found at a pub. The potion he drank had made his cock, which was well endowed, so much bigger, big enough to knot her. She had already taken a potion to eliminate the risk of her pregnancy as he drove his cock so deep into her that he felt like he was splitting her in half. He didn’t know her name, nor did he care. He was so angry and distraught that the only thing that seemed to quell the frustration that he had in him was to find a dumb bitch to fuck. Even if that bitch sometimes meant his own mother.
After he had spent all his cum into her hole, overstuffing her to the point where her stomach was full of his cum, George had left the room without so much as a proper goodbye. It was a normal night for him since Fred’s death, a night in the Broomsticks Inn, where everything smelled of kneazle piss and salty overbearing chips.
After the third or fourth drink, he heard an annoying, grating voice say, “Haven’t you had enough?”
“Haven’t you had enough?” George mimicked Percy’s words, mocking him.
It was his dumb brother, Percy, who wanted to make amends for everything that had happened between them. In George’s mind, the only way that he could make amends for the situation was if he had a nice sopping cunt for him to fuck.
George had fantasised about fucking Percy so many times that it actually made his balls hurt just thinking about it. He wanted to fuck his frustrations out on him, turn him into a fucking raging slut for his own good. He wasn’t even particularly attracted to Percy, as much as he was attracted to the idea of making him shut him for once.
“George,” Percy reached in and stroked George’s arm, making him madder.
“What do you want?” George asked. His eyes were a little red and glassy. Percy should be happy that George was just drinking a little alcohol and not knocking back stronger potions. He’d thought about it and wondered what it would be like to numb the pain in his heart with things that weren’t alcohol and sex. “What do you want, Percy? Haven’t you ruined this family enough?” he asked, not caring that some spit had landed on Percy’s hand. “You think that this is going to fix everything? You coming here to take me back home?” he said, mocking him for his efforts.
“George, please,” Percy said, his hand still on his arm. “I understand that you’re in pain—”
“Do you? Do you now?” George sneered. He eyed Percy in his going-out robes. He looked like a twat. “You think you understand how I feel, Percy? You think you know what we were going through when you were sitting in the Minister’s office, sucking his fucking dick, you bloody arselicker?”
Percy flushed deeply. George had been joking about his sexuality since he’d come out a few months back. Telling him that he always knew that he’d had a stick up his arse. “That’s…that’s out of line,” he said quietly.
George scoffed. “That’s all you care about, is it? The fact that I was ‘out of line’?”
“I just want things to be better,” Percy said honestly. “I just want us to have a good relationship together.”
“Hmm.”
“George? What can I do? I know Mum and Dad shocked you by bringing up going to therapy, but I think—”
“Why don’t you shut up for once?”
“George—”
He could feel tears burning in his eyes and a burning sensation at the back of his throat. He hated the smell of his drink but just wanted the effects of it in his system. He could smell the bitch that he fucked. He didn’t even care. He didn’t care anymore about anything. Not about his joke shop or his poor mum, who was worried about him. Nothing.
George did the only thing he could logically think of to do then. He grabbed Percy’s face and kissed him so hard his mouth hurt. He could feel Percy reeling backwards onto the barstool, and George just leaned forward, trapping him in between the wall behind him and George’s muscular chest.
“If you want to make everything better for me, then you’d get yourself a fucking cunt so I can fuck you,” George laughed.
Percy shuddered. “George, George, you’re not thinking straight,” he said. “Everyone’s worried about you. Let’s just go home. You’re not going to feel any better drinking more of this rubbish,” he was squeaking underneath George’s hold.
Just as George was pressing against him, pressing against Percy’s trousers and noticing the lack of bulge there, his mind had gone into overdrive. His mouth opened, and he started shaking. “You fucking cow,” he said. “You already have.”
Before Percy could run away, George had palmed the key to the other room he had in his pocket. He would take another girl into the room, but why would he now that he found out that his pathetic brother had a cunt?
He apparated them both to the room, feeling nauseous from his lack of eating and the number of drinks he’d had. Percy was under him, still squirming, and George shoved him back onto the bed when he broke free of the hold.
“George!” Percy said, begging. “George, let go! Let me go! Let me go!”
George had pushed Percy’s legs apart, and the cheap material of his second-hand trousers ripped immediately along with his probably cheap-arse cotton panties underneath. He ripped Percy’s trousers and panties, which fell apart easily, so cheap that the were like tissue paper. Percy was crying, hot tears running down his cheeks.
He pulled his trousers down, rubbing his cock, slick with his precum and the other bitch’s juices all over Percy’s cunt. Percy tried to push against him, but George was heavier than him. He easily pinned down Percy’s bird-like arms and shoved his cock into him without any form of preparation. He was so large and Percy’s cunt so unprepared that it was impossible to shove a good portion of his dick into Percy’s cunt. The sound that came out of Percy was so loud that he bet the whole pub had heard him screaming. George grabbed Percy’s mouth and clamped it shut with his hand. He could feel the tears running down Percy’s eyes, droplets onto George’s knuckles.
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” George said, pulling out enough to slap Percy’s cunt with his dick. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know how to be aroused? You stupid cunt.” He rubbed his hard cock all over Percy’s pussy to try and get it lubricated to no avail, but he didn’t care. He shoved himself into Percy, who was as dry as a bone.
Percy squeaked underneath him, groaning in what was mostly pain.
George rocked his hips back and forth, sinking his cock further into Percy’s hole. He smacked Percy’s thigh, feeling the smallest bit of pussy juice start to form around him. The more he pumped into Percy’s wrecked pussy, the more that Percy was starting to get hot and aroused, more pussy juice helping move his cock into his warm hole. George could see blood around Percy’s cunt, and he was whimpering, but he just didn’t care.
He came into him after only a few minutes, the sounds of his cries making him feel good. Percy stared at him, vacant-eyed, as George pulled out of him, cum seeping out of his abused hole. George’s hands had been around Percy’s arms, pinning him down, and they were already red. They were going to bruise the next day.
After George came into Percy, it was like he finally came down to reality. He realised he’d just raped his brother for one, and the realisation made him feel almost… bad. It didn’t bring Fred back. He still felt awful. And everything hurt so much. He buried his head into Percy’s chest, wrapping his arms around him and started to cry.
He couldn’t believe what he’d just done. He couldn’t believe how angry he was. What was he going to do now?
“Shh,” Percy said, his voice hoarse from the crying and sobbing. His hands shook, but he still clung to George as best as he could. “It’s all right, George. It’s all right.”