Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11986671.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Tom_Riddle
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Tom_Riddle
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Gender_Changes, Mildly_Dubious_Consent
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-03 Words: 1450
****** A Touch Too Much ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Harry and Tom had shared a bed for as long as they could remember.
Notes
     PWP practice really.
     Dub consent tag for undernegotiated kink. There's possibly a little
     dom/sub undertones too.
See the end of the work for more notes
Harry and Tom had shared a bed for as long as they could remember.
Winters at the orphanage meant they huddled close for warmth - fingers tucked
into armpits and noses pressed underneath jaws. Summers they kicked the sheets
to the foot of the bed, their hands rucking up each other's shirts and skin
sticking from the sweat.
It was only natural for them to continue sleeping together once they reached
Hogwarts.
Harry’s short hair, masculine name, and disinclination to correct assumptions
made this fairly easy and once Tom had established his hold over their house,
no one dared to give their sleeping arrangements a second glance.
They closed the curtains and erected a privacy ward, of course. And once they
got older, they added sound proofing charms as well.
The two had always been intimate but it was strange how easily their casual,
everyday skinship became sexual. There was no verbal discussion. One night back
at the orphanage, their eyes had met inches apart on a threadbare pillow and
before they knew it, their lips had locked.
The feeling had been electrifying, invigorating - like magic rushing in your
veins - like taking flight for the first time.
Tom liked to devour her - tongue sweeping every corner of her mouth, teeth
ravaging her lips until they were swollen and bruised. Harry would moan into
these kisses and sip delicately at his mouth, as if swallowing his desire for
her.
He enjoyed leaving a necklace of bites for her to press against later. The
first time he left a trail of marks, he had followed them down her collarbones
to her budding breasts. At the time, they had barely fit the palms of his
hands. She’d been embarrassed, trying to cover them and pull away. He only held
her hands in a firm grip, closed his teeth around a rosy nipple and tugged.
When he discovered how sensitive she was, he resolved to spend an hour every
night stimulating and massaging her breasts to “make them grow.”
They waited a few years before attempting much more, satisfying themselves with
their mouths and their hands. But it wasn't as if they weren't tempted.
Tom would linger over that shadowy, secret cavern between Harry’s legs, eyes
half lidded. When it became truly unbearable, Harry would rub at his cock and
tuck it between her thighs. She’d let him rut against her, rubbing her knuckle
against her clit until they both reached completion.
Christmas night of their fourth year, when all the other Slytherins had gone
home for the hols, Tom and Harry made out in front of the common room
fireplace. They had hissed at the snake carvings in the room until some of
Salazar’s ancient protections covered all the paintings in a fine, snake skin
web of magic, and took turns pushing each other down on the fireplace rug.
Tom had stopped, hands at her hips, voice hoarse. “Can I-?”
She had nodded frantically, pulling him down until their foreheads touched.
“Yes! Please, please, do it now-”
It hurt. Harry cried out at the slow piercing sensation, feeling as if she was
going to split in two. But Tom didn't stop pushing in and instead kissed her
fiercely. The pain started to transform into a burning pleasure and soon she
was scratching her nails down his back, begging him to go faster, harder.
They didn't last long that first time, nor the second, or the third. But by the
fourth, they had moved to the bed and collapsed in an exhausted, sweaty pile of
limbs.
Harry would wake the next day to Tom pushing his leaking seed back into her,
fingers scraping deliciously against her still sensitive inner walls.
This soon proved to be an obsession of Tom’s, filling her with his come and
playing with her entrance afterwards. He began to brew her a monthly
contraceptive potion and then there was nothing stopping them from indulging
themselves as much as they wanted.
When she complained about the leakage and the stains, he bought a glass plug to
stopper her up. But sitting on the plug for hours at a time would get her so
worked up, she had to pull Tom into hidden corners of the castle to get him to
relieve her. It was a vicious cycle.
When they came home that summer, they were insatiable. All hours of the day
they would experiment with new positions, new techniques - her laid back, legs
tight around his hips; knees pressed against her chest so that he was so deep,
she couldn’t find the breath to gasp; him underneath her as she struggled to
plunge herself on his cock; him holding her up as he rammed her against the
thin orphanage walls.
It almost made coming back to Hogwarts bittersweet, being restricted to secret
corners and only having real privacy in their bed at night.
Morning he would play with what spend still lingered from the night before,
sometimes eating her out until her legs were too shaky to walk, sometimes
stroking himself until he could tuck the head of his cock into her cunt and
give her a fresh load. She would then plug herself up, some of her juices
oozing out in her excitement.
By lunchtime, she wouldn't be able to take it anymore. If she didn't have class
with Tom, she'd run to the bathroom and take the plug out, plunging her fingers
in and out until she finally came. Sitting next to Tom at the Slytherin table
afterward, he would reach into her robes, pull out the plug slightly, and tuck
his finger in to test if she had been a good girl.
She was not often a good girl.
Her punishment was often extended playtime with a new, alarming toy that Tom
had bought.
Nipple clamps were torturous. Ball gags were humiliating.
Dildos were…amazing.
But Tom grew strangely jealous after that so they didn't use them that
frequently.
The first time Tom tried to put something in her arse was where she drew the
line, however.
She had a perfectly good cunt, what more did he want?
A week later he had her in his lap and kissed her until she grew limp, hand
cupping her mound possessively. She gave a whimper and pressed harder against
that hand. Feeling a finger enter her, she sighed blissfully. It stroked her
insides for a while before curling and she cried out at the intense pleasure
she felt.
Tom drew his finger out. She let out a noise of distress but was shocked to
feel that finger press against her arsehole. It was still wet from being inside
her cunt, but the hole was too tight. She twisted around and tried to pull his
hand away but another hand forcing a few fingers in her cunt stopped her.
He played with her like that for what felt like hours. When the finger in her
arse started to move, he distracted her with his other fingers. It got to the
point where she was almost drooling, her pussy was so wet, and he had three
fingers in her arse. Just when she thought he was going to try putting his cock
in her arsehole, he kissed her sweaty forehead, and fingered her until she
came.
He did this routine for days until she was squirming and begging by the end for
him to fuck her arse.
Once he had another hole to play with, he started becoming more and more
unrestrained. The dildos that he so disdained were often kept in her arse and
charmed to move in and out at varying speeds while he fucked her.
There came a point where she just couldn't keep up. She eventually resorted to
occasionally drinking a sleeping potion to get a good night’s rest. She told
Tom he could have his fun but he had to take care of the aftermath.
Waking up to seed running out of both holes, red and still twitching from
aftershocks, became almost normal. The only problem was, sometimes her body was
still so overstimulated just a touch would have her come again. Tom would rub
her shaking body down, calming and gentling her with soothing sounds, saying
“now, now you’ve been so good for me” and “such a beautiful girl” until she was
presentable.
She was transformed by his desire. She reveled in it.
“Look at this lewd body,” he’d remark, watching the way her holes twitched
eagerly around his fingers, desperate for more, the way her nipples hardened
and perked up in his presence, her thighs rubbing together to stave off a gush
of slick.
Panting, she’d reply with a smirk, “And who trained it to be?”
 
 
 
 
 
 
End Notes
     First try at really smutty material. Critique welcome but be gentle,
     please.
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