Hello all. I'm Kitten Robots Husband. When she asked me to write a fanfic, I'm sure she wishes I didn't write this. However sometimes in life we don't get what we want, but what we need instead.
Some may judge me for writing a tale about six litres of cum, an old man and 1200 men, but to those I say - don't knock it till you've tried it.
xoxo Dumps McGee
CHAPTER ONE - THE HARDEST UNDERTAKING
Dumpledore looked out of the window of his chambers to another dreary British day. The weather did not tell the complete story of what was weighing on his mind. Voldemort had crossed a line. Albeit, the line was metaphorical, however 'twas a line nonetheless. He had entered the homes of Lily and James and ended their cum-filled lives prematurely. Their only remaining solidified cum, Harry, was not yet old enough to know the ramifications of this action, but Dumpledore knew. He knew all too well what would be coming. And he knew, that he would have to as well.
In order to make sure Harry made it to age to finally defeat Voldemort, drastic measures would be necessary. Voldemort was growing stronger by the day - but he could be delayed. It would require forbidden magic, and all of Dumpledore's strength, but he knew it must be done.
"Fawkes - fetch me a book from the forbidden library," Dumpledore exclaimed to no one in particular. He knew his trusty phoenix would not be willing to collect this volume, nay, the shame would have to be his alone. He picked himself up from his comfortable chair, and knew he would not be able to sit in it for quite some time.
He began to walk the hallways towards the library - the enormity of the task ahead weighing on him. He passed Madam Pumpfrey in the hall, and she caught him muttering "I'll need at least five, no six litres worth. How many is that going to take? Good lord I don't even know the average amount that can be milked at once," before he snapped around to her,
"Madam Pumpfrey! Just who I needed, tell me, how much do you know about the reproductive system?"
"Excuse me sir?" she retorted.
"It's quite the simple question dear, I just need to know how much in volume the average male ejaculate is."
"Oh," she responded. "Yes that is quite a simple question - about a teaspoon."
"No woman, I need the actual volume, not some wizardry measurements - this will be quite delicate work I assure you."
"Well if I had to guess - I'd say about 5 millilitres."
"FIVE MILLILITRES??" Dumpledore said calmly. "YOU'RE TELLING ME I NEED AT LEAST 1200 MENS' WORTH OF SEMEN FOR MY WORK TO SUCCEED? I'M GOING TO BE AT THIS FOR MONTHS!" He cried before storming off. Truly, this would be the hardest undertaking of his life thus far.
Upon reaching the library, Dumpledore sheepishly turned to the head librarian -
"My dear, I'll need the key to the forbidden books. The Sex books."
"Oh", she responded, a flush of embarrassment washing over her face. "I suppose this is for another of your late night escapades?"
"Good heavens no" Dumpledore responded. "Why, the fate of the very world hangs in the balance, I need the Necrocumicon, and I need it now."
CHAPTER TWO - BOTTOMS UP
Dumpledore poured over the Necrocumicon with slight trepidation. Every page was thick, stiff, and a little bit sticky. It was not the easiest book in the world to read, peeling each page apart took some effort.
"LONG DISTANCE POTION OF POWER SAPPING"
He had finally found the section he was after. This would be the only way for Dumpledore to delay Voldemort's growth - without him noticing anything was wrong. At current rates he'd be at full power within the year - but Dumpledore's plan for Harry to save the world would not be ready for at least 15.
"The materials required:
- 6 Litres of Muggle Cum
- Must be fresh (Under 72 Hours Old)
- Must be warmed with the flesh
- 1 Litre Muggle Urine
- Aged (3 Weeks)
- 2 Sprigs Rosemary
- 1 Basil Leaf
- Baked in an oven at 180degC for 2 Hours"
"I'm going to need an oven too? Heavens the lengths I'm having to go to," Dumpledore wondered to himself. "This is going to be a months long endeavour. Thankfully I know just the place".
The internet was still a relatively new introduction to the wizarding world - but Dumpledore prided himself on his ability to adapt, to fit in. He opened the hidden door behind his bookshelf into a room set up just for him. Inside he looked upon his pride and joy - A CBBS S-100 machine with Hayes Smartmodem. He dialled the necessary numbers and saw the screen flash to life -
"FORUM 80"
"Start new thread?"
Dumpledore began hitting the keys - he'd need at least two threads.
"M4M - WEEKEND OF FUN"
"Do you like piss? Then cum on down to Newcastle upon Thyme - SAT 8:30PM - Royal Station Hotel"
He disconnected the modem and hooked up the only phone in the school. No one but him knew about it.
"Operator? Put me through to the Royal Station Hotel in Newcastle". After waiting a few seconds -
"Welcome to the Royal Station Hotel - how may I help you?" the cheery operator exclaimed.
"Hello my dear - I'd like to book your penthouse suite for the weekend."
The first of many long weeks was staring him in the face - and he'd just taken the first step. Ready or not - here cums Dumpledore.
CHAPTER THREE - RUN A TRAIN (ON ME)
The train ride south to Newcastle had been relatively uneventful. Dumpledore had packed quite lightly for the weekend - after all the cum required had to be fresh, but the piss aged. He'd need to collect the piss now if he wanted to make it in time. As such the belongings with him reflected this. A simple litre decanter, his wand, a little chalk, and a plastic rain jacket he'd purchased at the station. To the unsuspecting - he'd look just like any other traveller on the train. He'd forgone his robes for a simple outfit, a button up shirt, and a nice pair of black slacks. No one had to know he was wearing his favourite underwear, a crotchless thong with the word "MANMEAT" bedazzled on the ass. No one knew he'd enchanted these gems with his power years before - making them the most powerful pair of underwear in the known wizarding world. It was a small, but comforting thought that in the worst case, he could simply twerk once, and any assailant would be transported instantly to another location. Where they went he wasn't sure, but it was a trick he'd used on more than one occasion.
The Royal Station Hotel was a favourite of Dumpledore's. Close to the station, and with excellent showers, it made it perfect for his escapades into the muggle world. He hadn't managed to find himself there in many years, but it remained close to his heart, and was the reason for his selection. He recalled the morning after a particularly raucous weekend where the doorman had to be Obliviated to forget the sight of 12 men with cocks the size of an elephants trunk whipping them around at speeds that would kill a man, while Dumpledore skilfully jumped around the room, his tongue barely brushing up against them. Alas - he suspected this weekend would be not quite as enjoyable, as piss wasn't really his thing.
After checking in - it was time for the necessary prep. The BBS members he was assured would be coming would be there around at 8:30 - and it was now 4.
"If I'm fast, I'll just make it."
He whipped out his wand, and uttered a quick enchantment. All the furniture lifted up off the floor of the penthouse suite, and the carpet began to roll back. Opening his suitcase, he took out the chalk and began drawing a series of intricate circles on the floor. The sigil was twofold - a quick little soundproofing, and a little waterproofing to be sure that all the piss would end up in the decanter at the end of the night.
A knock at the door. "Greg?" Dumpledore asked. The voice replied "Yep - That's me. I'm Greg. Albus? Wow you do look great for your age". While Dumpledore thought it a little odd of a compliment to start with, he was flattered nonetheless. He hadn't thought about how he looked in a long time, but felt the familiar feelings of arousal and gratification beginning to stir. He knew he was doing this for work, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself did it?
"You'd better come in Greg, unless you wanted to get your cock out here" Dumpledore joked. To his surprise, Greg's hand shot to his pants - a pair of stonewashed jeans, and began fumbling with the buttons. Dumpledore was momentarily shocked by how keen this man was, his eyes wandering down to the already very visible bulge in his pants before stopping himself - he hadn't drawn any sigils out here yet!
"Don't you worry Greg, I'll get to that, but I'm not dropping to my knees before this door is closed."
Taking him by the hand - he pulled Greg into the room and shut the door behind him.
CHAPTER FOUR - DROWNING IN PISS
Greg wasted no time. By the time Dumpledore had turned around from closing the door, he'd removed his pants completely. Greg's member was impressive - thick, long, and with a head shaped like a mushroom. Dumpledore didn't know it, but Greg liked to call it the plugger, as he hadn't met an ass yet he couldn't completely stretch out - but Greg hadn't met Dumpledore yet.
Dumpledore looked upon Greg standing to attention. He began to masticate at the sight - how long had it been since he'd had this effect? He hadn't even chanted any spells yet - and this man was already rock hard at the thought of fucking him. Almost involuntarily, Dumpledore found himself moving closer to Greg, nay, The Plugger.
"And what were you going to do with this then Greg?" Dumpledore quizzed. "Did you plan on fucking this old mans ass?"
"Well Albus," Greg explained, "I'm not sure how many men you've been with before, but I planned on showing you a night to remember - you've not heard about my special talent yet."
"Oh? Well Mr Greg, why don't you tell me what makes you so special?"
"I can hang 6 stones of weight off my cock before it begins to bend."
"Oh my," claimed Dumpledore, sliding his leathery hands up against Greg's chiselled chest. "Well it seems I'm about to be impaled aren't I?"
Greg moaned quietly as Dumpledore slid his hands lower, running his fingers through Greg's impressive bush - before sliding his hands lower still, grasping Greg's full balls.
"And tell me - are these balls full of piss and cum for an old man like me?" Albus panted. "Piss is stored in the balls after all - that's something the doctors wont tell you."
Greg's hand moved to Dumpledore's shoulder, pushing him to the ground. Before Dumpledore could even offer a complaint at being treated so roughly, he found himself face to face with the plugger, and simply couldn't look away. Old habits kicked in, and before Greg could tell him what to do, he found himself swallowing it whole, the thick mushroom head sliding past his uvula. Dumpledore had magicked away his gag reflex years ago, but even still he struggled to get Greg's impressive head into his throat. He wasn't one to shy away from a challenge though, and this was one he relished. Poking his tongue (an impressively long tongue) out to make sure he was taking care of the balls, Dumpledore began to rock back and forth, feeling Greg swell with every motion.
"Oh fuck Albus you sure do know how to suck dick," Greg exclaimed. A little coarse, but not inaccurate, thought Dumpledore, but his train of thought was interrupted by another exclamation.
"Shit I'm gonna fucking cum uhhhhhhgh." Before Dumpledore even had a chance to move he felt Greg shudder, and the familiar feeling of cum sliding down into his stomach came about. His eyes rolled back into his head. So soon? He forgot how fragile these muggle cocks were. He pulled his head away from Greg's cock.
"Seems like you needed that huh Greg?" Dumpledore exclaimed. "Don't worry - we've got all night."
CHAPTER FIVE - HOGS OUT (FOR THE BOYS, HOGS OUT FOR THE BOYS)
Dumpledore was on the train back - his decanter safely wrapped in newspaper, and full to the brim with piss. A quick heating spell made sure that it would stay warm for the journey back. Just one man had taken the energy from him - 1200 was going to be far too many for just himself. He was going to need a lot of preparation for the cum portion of the spell, and likely some more helping hands. He was growing older - in the past he could have a man cum five, six times a night, lowering the number of men he'd need to see in a weekend to 200. Still a lot, but feasible for one man. No, now he'd need at least four others, then each person would only need to see eighty men, and make each man cum thrice.
Strolling back into his tower, he pulled out his specially made haemorrhoid pillow. He didn't have any, but The Plugger had taken its toll. Dumpledore had coaxed the nickname out of him before he left. "The Plugger, what will these muggles think of next," he muttered before gingerly sitting down.
Dumpledore placed the decanter of piss on the windowsill, to remind him of the actions that were being taken, and began wondering to himself. Who in this school would understand the gravitas that required them to fuck eighty men over the course of a weekend? Severus One-Eyed-Snake was a given, he was a certified cock hound, and would be down for any adventures that Dumpledore suggested. Sirius Big-Black-Cock would be in too, he owed Dumpledore after the death of his lover, Dumpledore visited him nightly to "comfort" him. The Basilisk too, having recently reached sexual maturity was desperate for its next meal of dick, and its enchanting eyes would be impossible for any muggle to escape. But the last was escaping him.
Who would have the stamina, the drive to suck eighty dicks? The fate of the world hung in the balance - without those eighty cocks, Voldemort would surely gain control of the world by the year's end.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud banging on the door. Whoever was knocking had to have real ham hock hands, the kind that could jerk a man off in under 30 seconds. Someone Dumpledore clearly needed on his side.
"DUMPLEDORE?" A voice roared from the other side of the door. "DUMPLEDORE ARE YOU THERE?"
Opening the door slowly, Dumpledore was greeted with the sight of a real bear of a man. Hairy, unkempt, and a little smelly. The kind of man others go wild for. Was that a hint of smegma on the air? Truly a musk that made Dumpledore weak at the knees.
"Hogrid," Dumpledore exclaimed. "Just the man I was looking to see."
CHAPTER SIX - THE GANG(BANGS) ALL HERE
Dumpledore looked around his tower room at the three men and one (unnaturally) large snake. One-Eyed-Snake, Big-Black-Cock and Hogrid all eyed the Basilisk warily.
"Is he really necessary Dumpledore?" Hogrid exclaimed. "Surely all of us could simply fuck another twenty men or so?"
"Hogrid you beautiful brutish oaf. This snake has a three foot long tongue and can suck three men off at the same time. We need to be efficient this weekend. If I don't have six litres of cum at the end of it, the very world itself will be in peril. Nay - we need the snake," Dumpledore responded.
"Clearly you haven't seen how many cocks I can fit in my ass Dumpledore," One-Eyed-Snake quipped.
"Severus, we've all seen you on a night out bragging about how many cocks you can take, but the second someone puts their fist in your ass you're crying for a time out. I'll hear no more about it, I trust the Basilisk not to eat too many muggles, and we can all get together and the end of this and squeeze the cum out of it," Dumpledore responded.
"Hisssssssss," said the Basilisk.
"Well said" Big-Black-Cock whispered to no one in particular. While they were all magically enchanted to avoid the Basilisks eyes, it was clear his were quite enamoured. Perhaps it was their shared animalistic nature, wondered Dumpledore.
"Now - we'll need our best outfits. Remember, don't make it something too expensive or delicate, as we'll be wringing the cum out of it at the end of the night. Personally, I'm going commando. Easier access that way. Just some simple jeans and a T-shirt too - these are working class men we'll be seeing. It's just Newcastle, no snobs there," Dumpledore said aloud to no one in particular. To his surprise, the Basilisk was the first to respond.
"Hisssssssssss," the snake said, and began regurgitating what was a surprisingly well fitting set of lingerie. Clearly it was as excited for this weekend as he was. Dumpledore wondered which tailor in Hogsmeade had been enchanted to create the worlds oddest looking bra and panty set.
"Nice," said Big-Black-Cock. "I'll admit, I'm rather unprepared. I have these assless chaps though, do you think those will do?"
Before Dumpledore had a chance to respond, One-Eyed-Snake barged in. "Pathetic. Me? I'm going classical. A leather trenchcoat with nothing underneath."
"I'M JUST GOING AU NATURALE," bellowed Hogrid. It was true, he had an impressive amount of body hair, forming a thick pair of boxers around his tree trunk thighs. Any man who wanted to see his undoubtedly unwashed cock would have to dig through a mass of pubes so thick their face would get lost in it. The thought made Dumpledore weak at the knees, and he made a mental note to go spelunking after all this was over.
"It'll have to do," Dumpledore said quietly. "Well, we've got a train to catch."
CHAPTER SEVEN - A SEA OF WHITE
It was the second day. None of the men had slept in over 30 hours, but they were on a mission. They'd all made sure to chew mandrake root before the first visitor (Greg, the poor man was so keen to see Dumpledore again he'd arrived 20 minutes early. He was a little surprised when he was greeted by a 30 foot snake in lingerie, but the stammering stopped when its tongue shot right down his pants) so their stamina was high. The air was thick with the stench of cum and bengay.
"Big-Black-Cock, I need some more lube, this ones a little stuck in my ass," One-Eyed-Snake yelled. He was on all fours, a cock in each hand, with two men in his ass. Without skipping a beat, Big-Black-Cock reached around behind the man he was sucking off, and tossed the lube in One-Eyed-Snake's general direction. For two men who hated each other, they certainly worked well together when it came to orgies. Dumpledore idly wondered if the two would be seeing much of each other after this, in a quieter, more intimate setting.
His thought was interrupted when Steve, the man who he'd had his lips around for the last four minutes let out a cry. Dumpledore quickly pulled his face back. He loved swallowing as much as the next man did, but he needed this cum. All the sigils were doing their work, and the facial quickly peeled itself from his face, the small globule of cum zipping over to the open decanted in the center of the room and depositing itself inside.
"WE'RE TWO THIRDS OF THE WAY THERE BOYS," Hogrid roared. He had a man over each shoulder, jerking them off at the same time. "MAKING SURE TO GET THOSE BICEP REPS IN TOO - LOOKS LIKE I CAN SKIP THE GYM THIS WEEKEND!"
What seemed like an impossible task was slowly coming together - they'd seen about 800 men so far. The Hotel wasn't sure what to make of the steady stream of working class men coming in, and leaving a couple hours later looking drained and utterly confused. They'd roped Professor McCummagall in at the last second to make sure there was someone to Obliviate the muggles leaving - after all, they could never know they'd just had a blowjob from a giant snake while cum magically flew through the air. A lot of things get lost in an orgy, but that was one that would stick with them without help. Every now and then she'd poke her head in and ask if anyone needed water, but had stopped doing so since a little spurt of cum from a man pulling himself from One-Eyed-Snake's behind hit her in the eye. If only she'd look back in she'd see that everyone was getting desperately dehydrated.
The fucking continued, and before long the men had lost count. How long had it been. Two days? Or was it three at this point? Would Greg's cum still be viable? They only had one shot at this.
"Hissssssssss," said the snake.
"He's right!" screamed Big-Black-Cock. "Look at the decanter!"
It was full to the brim.
CHAPTER EIGHT - BAKED TO PERFECTION
There was no time to head back to Hogwarts - a Floo gate would ruin the delicate balance of the cum - and they had just 3 hours before the first loads of cum would be past their best by date (72 hours according to the Necrocumicon). They had to bake this creampie, and they had to bake it now.
With the last muggles kicked from the room, Dumpledore began to gather the ingredients. He'd made sure to bring the piss bottle with him for exactly this reason - but the basil! He'd forgotten it!
He turned to the Basilisk, and before he could make a sound, it slithered (surprisingly nimbly) from the hotel window. He only hoped it understood the message.
"Alright Hogrid, how are those arms of yours?" Dumpledore said to the naked men behind him.
"JUST FINE DUMPLEDORE - WHAT DO YOU NEED?" came the reassuring, smelly voice from behind him.
"I need you to whisk this cum till its light and fluffy, then One-Eyed-Snake, I need you to start incorporating the piss," responded Dumpledore.
"If I must," One-Eyed-Snake muttered back. Dumpledore knew he'd become somewhat enamoured by the thought of existing as nothing more than a sextoy, but now wasn't the time to treat him gingerly.
"Yes One-Eyed-Snake, you must, or I'll attach an Azkabanian Chastity Belt to you."
"Well that just makes me want to do it even less," One-Eyed-Snake joked, but he still picked up the piss bottle. He knew the enormity of what was being requested.
"And me?" said Big-Black-Cock.
"Start grinding this Rosemary."
The men set about their work - time was ticking down, and they worked in silence.
CRASH.
The Basilisk had returned, through the only unopened window in the hotel room, but time was tight and Dumpledore had no time to admonish it. To his utter relief, he saw the Tesco bag hanging from its fang.
"You beautiful sentient penis you," Dumpledore cried. It was here at last - the basil, the finishing touch.
Placing the leaves on top of the delicate, mellow yellow concoction, Dumpledore threw the mixture, so gingerly poured into a cake container into the oven. They'd made it just in time - two hours and five minutes remained.
The men sat in silence. Dumpledore impatiently tapping his fingers on the table. One-Eyed-Snake gingerly rubbed moisturiser around his blown out ass. He'd had it the worst, with his absolute insistence that he'd make each man cum with his ass. His pride truly was something else.
"WELL IF THE WORLD'S GOING TO END ANYWAY, WHO'S UP FOR ONE LAST FUCK BEFORE WE SEE IF THIS CAKE'S ANY GOOD," Hogrid cried.
The men laughed, before Big-Black-Cock spoke up, "Hogrid, I don't think any of us wants to see any more cum for at least a week."
CHAPTER NINE - THE END?
It had been two weeks since the men had all eaten the cake together. They'd made sure to repeat the required spell after each bite:
"There once was a wizard of cum,
who fucked till he had a numb bum,
he baked a cream pie
and the magic he cries
will make the Dark Lord succumb."
The taste was surprisingly light for such a heavy load. Very cummy with just a hint of piss, they found it went down nicely with the bottle of Sauvignon blanc the Basilisk had picked up with the basil. Sure - it was boxed (after all, it was from Tesco's) but it did help it go down.
News of the Dark Lord had quieted, and last Dumpledore heard - he was off "accumulating power". Apparently he'd stuck his head onto the back of someone else's head. Dumpledore thought it would have been much more interesting if they'd had two cocks - but he'd sadly not heard about any wizard rocking the double barrels.
A knock at the door. It was one Big-Black-Cock.
"So, who needs weakening next? I don't know about you Dumpledore, but I've got a hankering only six litres of cum will satisfy."
A wry smile crossed Dumpledore's face. "Well Big-Black-Cock, let me introduce you to the internet."