Harriet Hotter and the Sorcerer's Bone Ch.8
by Couture
email: couture_writes@hotmail.com
(Ff, humil, etc.)
Please do not read if under 18 years of age or
offended by sexually explicit stories and situations.
(c) 2002 Couture
***********
The sun was beginning to wane and the fog which was
ever-present at Frogwart's had begun to settle on the
grassy field. It heavy and thick, making it hard to
breath. It was even harder to breathe when you were
tired and the score was tied. Harder still when your
second best player didn't bother to show up for the
game.
'Damn-damn-damn, where the fuck is Heather?' Harriet
rested her stick on her legs and waited mid-field for
her team's opponents, the Whites, to meet her.
They were getting close. Harriet pointed her stick at
the girl in the white skirt running up the field with
the birdie and two of her teammates broke off in
pursuit. Harriet closed the distance between herself
and the lead girl. 'Damn. We only have one volley
left and they have five. Shit! Okay, here goes
nothing.' It was at that moment that Harriet
stumbled.
The girl carrying the birdie saw Harriet fall on the
damp grass and smiled. She flung the birdie to the
girl closest to Harriet, taking advantage of the
situation.
However, Harriet sprung up quickly, jumped into the
air, intercepting the birdie. She turned and grinned
at her opponent. "Who's your daddy?" she laughed,
before taking off in a run.
Harriet surveyed the field at a glance. She saw that
one of the girls on the opposing team was down.
'Probably ran into Bets,' Harriet surmised. The odds
were finally even. 'We might just be able to win this
thing.'
Harriet passed the birdie to her teammate and dashed
off toward the left of the net. She heard the slight
whish of a volley. "Pass!" she cried, hoping it
wasn't too late.
Just as the birdie left Beth's keeper, the poor girl's
movements slowed a hundred-fold as she was influenced
by the effects of the magic. That was what made this
sport so difficult. The sticks they played with had
two functions. On one end was a small net used for
catching the birdie. On the other a small orb, that
when fired at someone would slow the person down to
one tenth of their speed for two minutes or until a
goal was scored. You could only fire it once a game,
and right now, the Whites had an abundance of volleys
left.
Paula ran down the field with the birdie, her eyes
wide with fright, as she looked around for the next
volley.
Harriet wondered if Paula would ever be able to make a
decent player. She was fast, but she was so scared of
everything, she was almost useless. Scared of the
magical volleys, scared of the birdie, scared of the
sticks, she was scared of everything.
Harriet watched as the opposing team's goalie, turned
her stick around orb first. She waited for the motion
forward to begin. "To me!" Harriet cried.
Paula threw Harriet the birdie, glad to be rid of it.
The volley hit her and then she too slowed down to the
pace of a slug. It didn't matter, because Harriet now
had the birdie captured in the webbing of her stick
and the opposing goalie was defenseless with her stick
in the wrong direction. Harriet flicked the birdie at
the goal and then guided it in using the magic of her
stick. She watched the world speed up momentarily as
she was wrapped up in the effects of magic. Another
of the opposing team must have gotten her, but it was
too late and the spell was broken moments later as the
birdie hit the net.
"We've done it. We've won!" shouted Harriet. A
resounding cry went up as the center of the field
became a small tangle of girls in gray skirts hugging
a curly-haired girl with glassed in the middle.
After a small celebration with her fellow Grays,
Harriet walked back to her room. She didn't relish
this next part. Her roommate Heather didn't show up
for the game. She didn't even bother to tell them she
wasn't coming. This might not have been a huge
problem when they were losing every game, but now that
they had a win; it had become a much bigger problem.
Even before they had a win; it would have been a
problem to Harriet. Not having any innate magical
ability, Macrosse was one of the few things at
Frogwart's Harriet excelled at. As such, Harriet gave
it her all when she practiced and played. Her coach,
Madam Morganna, had even made her team captain after
today's win. And as team captain, it was her job to
deal with slack players.
Harriet opened the door to her room and grew mad when
she saw Heather sprawled out on the bed reading a
magic book.
"We sure could have used you at the game today
Heather."
Heather put a finger to her lips and shushed. "Quiet,
I'm trying to study. I'm sure you guys did a fine
enough job of losing without my help."
Harriet smirked. "For your information, we won."
Heather's eyes opened widely. "But the Gray's haven't
won since . . ."
"Yeah, well we won today, and if you go to practice
and play, we might even win against the Reds next
week." Harriet threw her gear down in the corner and
collapsed on the bed. "Stick a fork in me. I'm
done."
Heather pinched her nose. "Phwew, smells more like
rotten to me, but what do you expect from a mud
witch."
Harriet groaned and stretched out, before getting out
of bed. She was tired of the mud witch comments. She
wasn't a witch, she had no magic. "Mud witch huh?
C'mere, I'll make you a mud witch too." She advanced
on Heather, dirty arms and grubby hands outstretched.
"Get away from me Hotter." Heather's hand came out
from underneath her blanket with her wand. "I'm
warning you," she menaced.
"Don't point that stupid thing at me." Harriet
bluffed, but immediately backed off. It was no fun
playing with these girls. They had no sense of humor.
Besides, the memory of Heather causing the desk to
bang up and down in the class was still fresh in
Harriet's mind.
Thinking it was better to just avoid a bad situation,
Harriet picked up a towel and fresh nightclothes then
made her way to the shower. She disrobed and stood in
the marble stall, complete with some very frightening
marble golems. They took some getting used to, but
the showers at Frogwart's were the greatest.
"Nasty filthy girl. What have you been doing,
wallowing in the muck?" One of the marble golems said.
"Get out. Go wash someplace else. We keep a clean
stall around here," said another.
"You know better than that little monkeys," Harriet
said. "Let me have it--nice and hot."
The golems opened their mouths and hot water burst
forth, almost blasting Harriet out of the stall.
"Argh, you little bastards, not that much!" Harriet
grabbed onto the ears of the nearest golem to keep
from falling.
"Ouch! Do as she says, the horrid witch has me by the
ears!" groaned fat-faced golem.
The water flow slackened and Harriet relaxed under its
soothing blast. "Soap," she said and foamy water
poured out of the golems mouths.
Harriet lathered herself up in the rich later. Her
sore muscles felt ten times better already. The water
felt better than good; the water felt erotic. Harriet
opened her legs as the water beat a steady rhythm on
her sex. "Ahhhh," she moaned, tugging lightly on a
soap-covered nipple. Then she heard a slight snigger.
"Aigh!" she cried, realizing where she was. She
cringed at the lurid looks from the golems as two of
them pointed their water spray at her blossoming sex.
"Stop it. You're doing that on purpose you marble
perverts."
"Awww, you almost had her Ralph," said one of the
golems.
"Come on witchie, ride my face," laughed the golem,
sticking out a very long marble tongue. "You know
what the say, once you've had a golem, you'll never-
aigh! My eyes!"
Harriet poked the golem's eyes in a fashion that would
have made Larry, Moe and Curly proud. Then, she held
up her two fingers in warning. "Nigh! I'm warning you
boys, I know how to use these things."
It was enough to convince the golems. "Now keep them
peepers closed, or I'll let you have it again."
The golems closed their eyes, while Harriet began to
shave. Even though she no longer needed the
medication, she kept her sex cleanly shaven. She had
tried to let it grow back out, but couldn't bear the
itchy feeling of the stubble. It was a little
difficult to keep hid from her other classmates, but
so far, she had been able to.
She caught a Golem peeking through one parted eyelid,
and reached out and pulled it back down. "That means
you too Ralph."
"Awwwww," the Golem pouted.
Harriet rinsed the soap off. "Enough, I'm finished,"
she said.
The water slowed to a trickle, as Harriet dried off
with a towel. She wrapped the towel around her
middle, and put her hair up in a ponytail. She padded
over to the sink on her bare feet. She brushed her
teeth and then smiled at the mirror.
"Who's the prettiest girl in the land?"
"You are," said the mirror.
It was corny, and Harriet knew the mirror said that to
anyone who asked, but it never failed to make her
smile.
Harriet returned to her darkened dorm room.
Apparently, Heather was already asleep. Harriet
clicked her fingers softly and the candle lit to a
small flicker. Harriet turned so that her back was
facing Heather, slid her panties up her lean legs,
dropped the towel and then slid into a night shirt.
Afterwards, she got into her bed and blew out the
candle.
As always, it didn't take long before her thoughts
drifted to Chloe. She missed her dearly and wondered
what her cousin was doing at this moment and if she
were thinking of her. Harriet felt a tingling
sensation in her sex. She was getting more than a
little aroused; she was in full blown heat. She
quietly slid her hand beneath her panties and caressed
the damp folds of her sex. "Damn golems. The little
bastards must have got me all worked up."
Her digits moved faster, and eventually her index
finger slid home into the tight tunnel of her sex.
"Mmmpff. . ." she gasped into the pillow. Then she
heard something that terrified her. She was caught.
"Slut. You couldn't wait ten minutes to frig
yourself, could you?" Heather said.
"Ahhhh. . ." Harriet gasped. A sharp surge of
pleasure stabbed through her tiny nubbin. She burned
from embarrassment at being caught, but the sudden
rush a pleasure, prevented her from stopping.
Instead, her fingers increased their tempo of their
own volition.
Heather clapped her hands and suddenly the room was
full of light. "I said, could you slut?" Heather
snatched the covers off of Harriet, exposing the
masturbating girl.
Heather felt funny inside. She knew she shouldn't be
enjoying her roommate's perverted performance. After
all, Harriet was the lesbian, not she. However, no
one seemed to tell that to her body, which was turned
on beyond belief.
She found herself kneeling beside Harriet, whispering
in her ear, "Slut, cunt-hole, finger fucker . . ."
Heather's fingers slipped beneath the elastic of her
panties.
Harriet groaned as she was assaulted by wave after
wave of pleasure, but just as she felt she should
orgasm; it leveled off, robbing her of culmination.
She tried to remember Chloe, because thinking of her
cousin was usually enough to send her over the top.
As hard as Harriet tried, she couldn't remember her
cousin's face.
It was Heather's fault. The bitch wouldn't let her
concentrate -- wouldn't let her remember Chloe. She
kept whispering filthy names in her ear and Harriet's
fingers refused to stop as long as the blonde
continued.
"Shut up-shut up-oh-please shut up," Harriet gasped.
"Whore-cunt-licker-slut-hole-" Heather's fingers
smacked wetly as they thrust in and out of her sex.
Her panties had pulled into the crack of her plump
ass, as her hand moved up and down in her crotch. She
had never been so excited before. So excited knowing
that while she could cum, poor Harriet could not.
"Ugh-Ugh-god-cumming-you-ugh-mud-bitch-whore!"
Heather's body spasmed under the onslaught of her
orgasm. She removed her coated fingers from beneath
her panties and wiped them clean on Harriet's damp
hair.
"Mmmm. . . that was a good one," Heather whispered.
She watched for a minute while Harriet thrust her
fingers in her sex, grinding her pelvis against the
mattress. She grinned and captured Harriet's wrist,
pulling the girl's hand from between her thighs.
"Enough bitch. I need to get my beauty rest."
Harriet moaned from her frustration, while Heather
turned off the lights and fell into the blissfully
contented sleep of sated desire. Harriet sobbed
quietly into her pillow as she tried to remember
Chloe's face and will away the aching in her sex. She
felt that if she could just picture her cousin's face,
she would be able to orgasm. Surely, this must be
some punishment for fantasizing about Heather tonight.
She'd give anything to be home and away from this
horrible school.
To be continued . . .
If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the
author. Your comments are their only payment.
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author
unless explicitly indicated.
