Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1108945.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Astoria_Greengrass/Pansy_Parkinson
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, Dominance, Submission, Lingerie, Humiliation, Dirty_Talk
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-29 Words: 7094
****** Best of Friends ******
by heyitsamorette_(AmoretteHD)
Summary
     Astoria always wanted to be one of the big girls.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
The Great Hall was buzzing during lunch, and Astoria walked through the crowd
until she reached the Slytherin table. She spotted her older sister sitting
with her friends near the end of it - it was an unspoken rule that the higher
years sat furthest away from the professors, with the first years nearest.
Herself being a fifth year, Astoria felt a bit bitter about being cloistered
right in the middle. She desperately wanted to sit at the end, like the older
girls, but she knew Daphne would never let her.
As she walked by Daphne and her group of girlfriends, who huddled together
sniggering quietly about something or other, Astoria’s gaze lingered far too
long on Pansy Parkinson. The Queen Bee. Parkinson was one of those girls who
always looked perfect - her hair always soft and glossy around her face, her
skin clear and pristine, and her nails always painted. Every bloke in Slytherin
wanted her, and every girl wanted to be her best friend.
Oh, how Astoria both admired and hated her.
Just then, Parkinson looked up and caught Astoria’s eye. Astoria stopped in
surprise, frozen to the spot with her mouth falling open. She should think of
something to say instead of just standing there like a gaping fish. Anything at
all. But her mind was suddenly as blank as parchment, and all she was capable
of doing was staring helplessly into Parkinson’s smirking face.
“Your sister’s being weird again,” Bulstrode said, and Daphne whipped her head
around.
This brought Astoria’s senses back to her, and she blinked rapidly, suddenly
feeling very small under all those judging gazes.
Daphne looked ready to murder her. “Astoria…” she said in a warning tone, her
cheeks colouring pink. “What do you want?”
Astoria tried to speak, but nothing came out, save a strained sort of gurgle.
Daphne whispered almost inaudibly, but Astoria understood the movement of her
lips: “Stop embarrassing me.”
Tracey Davis let out a mocking sound of false pity. “Awww…. Maybe she wants to
sit with us.”
“No,” Daphne snapped. She turned back to Astoria. “You can’t sit here. Go to
your part of the table.”
All the while, Parkinson remained silent, with a wicked gleam in her eye. Her
smile was sickly sweet, and it sent a nervous flutter through Astoria’s chest.
“Er… right, then.” Astoria could barely form words while also trying to tear
her eyes away from Parkinson. “Bye!” She walked away quickly, her ears buzzing
with the sound of their laughter.
~ * ~
That evening, Astoria sat with her Transfiguration essay unrolled before her.
Although it was finished, she was looking it over one final time before bed.
There, in front of the fireplace, the Slytherin common room didn’t feel quite
so cold. She’d often prop herself down on the sofa with her schoolwork fanned
out around her. Daphne called her a swot, even though Astoria insisted she was
nothing of the sort.
A shadow fell over her scroll, and Astoria looked up to see someone standing in
front of her, blocking the light from the fireplace. She let out a small gasp
when she realized it was Parkinson.
“You don’t have many friends, do you?” Parkinson asked, her arms folded in
front of her.
Astoria almost choked again, but then she calmly exhaled, set down her scroll,
and looked Parkinson square in the eye. “I do have friends,” she said firmly,
thankful her voice didn’t quiver.
“Oh?” Parkinson turned her head left and right, scanning the area. “Where are
they then?”
Astoria licked her lips as she racked her brain for something acceptably
quippy. Parkinson watched her intently.
“We don’t need to hang around each other all the time,” she said. She wanted to
add, unlike your lot, but her shred of bravery failed to take her that far. And
she did have a friend, truth be told. Albeit, a single friend. From Ravenclaw.
Whom she mostly saw in the library when they both had loads of homework…
To her surprise, Parkinson took a seat next to Astoria on the sofa. She invaded
Astoria’s space, not quite pressing against her, but not far enough for
comfort. The warmth of her body radiated. Or maybe that was Astoria’s body
doing that… She felt stiflingly hot all the sudden, like her clothes were too
tight, and she scooted away an inch. She needed to breathe air again, and not
wafts of Parkinson’s heady perfume.
Parkinson smiled sweetly and said, “How would you like to make a new friend?”
“You mean… You’re saying…” Astoria was obviously interpreting things wrong,
because Parkinson would never offer to be her friend.
She was then struck with a horrible realization, and she clenched her jaw
tight. Anger and hurt rolling through her gut.
“This is a joke, isn’t it? A trick.”
“What is?”
“You… Coming over here… Talking to me.” Astoria sat up and looked over the back
of the sofa. “Where’s my sister? She must be around here somewhere, laughing
like mad.”
However, Daphne was nowhere in sight, and neither were any of her friends. In
fact, the common room was dark and quiet, save for a scattering of people.
There was one group of sixth year boys whom Astoria recognized as being on the
Quidditch team, and two girls studying by candlelight in a far corner. But no
Daphne.
“I’m not sure what you’re on about, Greengrass, but you’re rather adorable.”
Astoria turned back to her with a slack jaw and burning cheeks. “No, I’m not,”
she mumbled, moving away from her on the sofa.
Parkinson rested her hand in the newly-formed gap between them. “In fact, let’s
just keep Daphne out of this, hmm?”
“Out of what?”
“Our new friendship.” Parkinson grinned.
Astoria was torn, and more than a bit confused. On the one hand, she had a
feeling she shouldn’t trust Parkinson’s spontaneous offer of friendship. On the
other hand… it was only everything she’d dreamed of since her first day off the
train at Hogwarts.
“You want to be my friend?” Astoria asked, a bit breathless. “Why?”
“Like I said. You’re adorable.”
Astoria hated herself for blushing again, but those kinds of words from
Parkinson filled her with a twisted sense of pleasure.
“And you’re smart,” Parkinson continued, “and your fashion sense isn’t too
bad.” She then looked Astoria up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I think it
would be good fun to take you under my wing. Teach you a thing or two.”
Her brain was screaming at her to be suspicious of Parkinson, but the rest of
Astoria thrummed with the pleasure of feeling liked. Not only liked, but sought
out. By one of her sister’s friends. She fleetingly wondered if she was
actually dreaming this. Maybe she’d fallen asleep on her books again, like that
one time in the library. She only barely refrained from pinching herself.
“For instance, we’ll start with your hair.” Parkinson leaned forward and
reached out a hand to run her fingers through Astoria’s hair, brushing it out
of her face.
Astoria jumped at the touch, but she had already pulled back as far as the
armrest, and was now trapped between it and Parkinson. A predicament that left
her heart racing and her skin tingling.
“I’ll show you this spell that straightens hair.” She twirled one of Astoria’s
soft curls through her finger. “And you should wear a headband. I prefer
thinner bands myself, but I think a nice thick headband would look cute on you.
Like the sweet thing you are.” Parkinson tilted her head. “You’d be such a
doll.”
Astoria found herself nodding for some reason.
“Oh, and your uniform. You’re always so buttoned up, you remind me of a mini
Madame Pince.” Parkinson sniggered at that, which stung just a little. “Maybe
roll up the waistband of your skirt like everyone else does. You know... to
look a bit less like Hermione Granger.”
Astoria didn’t say anything, only swallowed. Parkinson moved closer again, and
her hands gripped Astoria’s hips. She rolled down the waistband of Astoria’s
skirt once, before Astoria gasped and pushed her hands away. “It’s all right,
I’ve got it,” she stammered. “I can do it myself.”
Parkinson’s hands never left her. They moved down to rest casually on Astoria’s
bare thighs. Astoria dared not say a word, but her whole body was burning,
stemming from Parkinson’s touch. Parkinson acted like she didn’t notice. Like
it was perfectly normal for Astoria to be nearly bent backwards over the sofa
armrest.
“I’ll tell you what,” Parkinson said. “This weekend, there’s a Hogsmeade trip.
I know for a fact Daphne’s not going.”
Astoria swallowed. “So?”
“Come with me. I’ll even buy you something. Like stockings.” She ran her hands
down Astoria’s thighs, bringing them to rest on her knees. Astoria had to press
her lips together to keep from gasping. “Stockings always complete an outfit,”
Parkinson continued, and then smirked. “There’s so much I could teach you.”
“I just have one question,” Astoria said.
“Yes?”
“Why? I… I thought you didn’t like me,” she choked out.
Parkinson pulled away then, folding her hands in her lap, suddenly prim. Her
lasciviousness vanished, to be replaced by an almost thoughtful expression.
“I’ve never had a sister,” she said. “It’s really something I’ve always envied
about Daphne.”
Astoria was left gaping at her as Parkinson rose and turned toward the
direction of the dorms. Before she reached the end of the sofa, she turned back
with another smile, her gaze lingering.
“Especially having a little sister as pretty as you.”
Another blush overtook Astoria as she watched Parkinson’s back, the hem of her
skirt bouncing and skimming her mid-thigh as she walked.
~ * ~
“That’s what you’re wearing to Hogsmeade?” Parkinson asked with a raised
eyebrow. “Good God, I’ve got my work cut out for me,” she sighed, turning
around and walking down the path that led to the carriages.
Astoria shuffled her feet, feeling suddenly very self-conscious in her
oversized Slytherin House scarf and wooly green mittens. She ran to catch up
with Parkinson.
The carriage ride was silent, and Astoria kept her gaze locked on the scenery.
But when they got off at the beginning of the village’s main street, Parkinson
pulled Astoria by the hand and dragged her along in the direction of the shops.
“Do you own any makeup, Greengrass?”
“Er… my parents never let me wear any.”
“Thought so.”
“They say I’m still too young…”
“Too young?” Parkinson asked, looking completely affronted. “I was wearing
makeup at twelve. You scared of your mum, are you?”
“No!”
“Right…” Parkinson said, not sounding convinced. “And how old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
“Well, then, I think you can get away with wearing a bit of makeup. How will
your mother find out, anyways, when you’re here at Hogwarts and she’s all the
way in London?”
Astoria snorted. “Daphne. How else?”
“Oh, shush, and leave Daphne to me.”
Astoria smiled as she was filled with a sense of empowerment she’d never felt
before. Parkinson had the power to keep her sister in line. It was a
fascinating revelation. It only made her want to please Parkinson, to do
whatever the girl wanted, and to keep on Parkinson’s good side.
So when Parkinson thrust various bits and pieces at her - a vast array of
cosmetics and hair creams and nail polishes - Astoria took them without
complaint. She held the little basket full of things, and followed Parkinson
around the store like a shadow.
Parkinson bought everything. Astoria protested, insisting she had money of her
own, but Parkinson was adamant about making the purchases herself. When they
finally left the shop, it was beginning to snow in a light flurry. Parkinson
told Astoria to go into the Hog’s Head and order them two Butterbeers.
“Where are you going?” Astoria asked, clutching the bag of trinkets to her
chest.
She wasn’t expecting the stern look Parkinson threw her. “Don’t question me,”
she said coolly. “Just do as I say.” With that, she whipped around and walked
off.
Astoria narrowed her eyes and pouted as snowflakes fell and melted on her nose.
She didn’t like to think of herself as Parkinson’s whipping girl, but neither
did she want to anger Parkinson and ruin whatever tentative thing was happening
between them, so she swallowed her pride for the moment and headed to the Hog’s
Head. Albeit, glumly.
“What’s all that?” Astoria asked wide-eyed when Parkinson met her at the pub.
Parkinson threw three bags into the booth before her and then sat down opposite
Astoria, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “I did a bit of extra shopping
without you.”
“Why?”
“Because. I want it to be a surprise.” Then she smiled deviantly. “Just some
panties and things.”
“What?” Astoria asked, clutching the edge of the table.
“Relax.”
“For you or for…” She lowered her voice to a whisper, for some reason feeling
it necessary. “For me?”
Parkinson laughed. “For you, of course. I have enough pretty things, thank you.
But yours are probably hideous. So I bought you some new ones.”
“But… but…” Astoria was sure her face reflected the horror - and, if she were
honest, embarrassment - she felt. “But… you don’t know my size,” she finished
lamely.
“I can guess.” Parkinson said, her eyes lingering over Astoria’s body a bit too
long. “You can try them on when we get back to school.”
Astoria fell heavily against the back of the booth, slumping her shoulder.
~ * ~
Astoria tugged at the back of the panties, trying futilely to get them to cover
her entire arse. She heard an exasperated sigh on the other side of the
partition.
“What the bloody hell is taking you so long?” Parkinson asked.
Astoria poked her head around the edge of the dressing partition. Parkinson sat
on Astoria’s bed, leaning back on her hands and looking thoroughly bored.
“I told you!” Astoria said. “You got them too small.”
Parkinson giggled. “Oh, come on. Let me see.” She beckoned with her hand.
Astoria sighed and stepped out, feeling her cheeks heat. She stood awkwardly,
over-aware of Parkinson’s sharp gaze roaming her nearly naked body. The silence
in the room was deafening.
“Turn around,” Parkinson said quietly.
Astoria bit her lip, ignoring the tingling between her legs, and did a slow
turn. Parkinson let out a soft sigh behind her.
“They’re just right,” Parkinson said when Astoria faced her again. Parkinson
sat more rigidly than before.
“What are you talking about? They barely cover my twat.”
A smile curled Parkinson’s lips. “Don’t be daft. It’s called sex appeal,
Greengrass. Or haven’t you heard of it?”
Astoria frowned. “I’ve never really thought about being sexy.”
“Well, that’s obvious.” Parkinson sat up. “But now you are. And you can wear
this pair to school on Monday.”
Astoria considered the teeny panties and the lacy bralette. She didn’t
particularly mind the bra being sheer and the fact that Parkinson could see her
nipples underneath the fabric - growing up with a sister made her comfortable
enough around girls. But she just wasn’t used to these type of undergarments.
They looked like they belonged to someone older. Someone in her twenties, who
intended to show them off...
“Pansy, do you wear these types of things under your clothes?” she asked
suddenly, the thought spilling from her lips without thought.
“Yes. I’m a proper lady, after all.”
Astoria wanted to laugh, but bit her lip. If the things she heard about
Parkinson and Draco Malfoy were true, Parkinson was anything but a lady.
“Now,” Pansy said as she stepped off the bed. “Let’s get the rest of you
ready.”
~ * ~
Monday rolled around, and Astoria stepped out of her room feeling apprehensive.
She had done everything Parkinson had told her to do. Her hair was straight and
shiny, and she wore a thick, girly headband that made her feel loads more
cutesy than she was. It sent a sensation to her groin, and she clenched her
legs together to make it go away.
Her lashes were curled, and her makeup was done just like Parkinson had taught
her over the weekend. She had even rolled up her skirt. The thing that worried
her most was that she also wore the stockings Parkinson wanted her to wear. The
kind of stockings that stopped mid-thigh and needed to be held up with a
garter. Astoria thought it was all rather stupid, because she could have just
worn stockings that went all the way up like underwear and stopped at her
waist; that way, avoiding the garter altogether. But when she pointed that out,
she found Parkinson didn’t see it the same way.
On her way to lunch, someone grabbed her by the arm, and she realized it was
Parkinson. She pulled Astoria in the direction of a tapestry.
“What are you doing?” Astoria said.
“Shh! I don’t want anyone to hear us.”
She pulled Astoria down a hallway and behind a tapestry, where there was a
small alcove. Astoria wondered how Parkinson knew it was there, and then
decided she didn’t want to know. It was just wide enough for both of them to
fit into without touching, although barely. With every move she made, Astoria
pressed into Parkinson in some way.
Parkinson, of course, didn’t seem to have an issue with the cramped space - she
didn’t have any concept of personal boundaries, from what she’d shown.
“Did you wear them?” she asked.
“Wear what?”
Parkinson rolled her eyes. “The underwear!”
“Oh, right. Yes. I have them on.”
Parkinson raised her eyebrows. “Show them to me.”
“What?” Astoria started, and pressed back hard against the stone wall of the
alcove.
“Now.”
Her voice was resolute, and Astoria’s fingers fluttered over the hem of her
skirt.
“Don’t you believe me?” she breathed.
“Are you questioning me again?” Pansy asked.
Astoria swallowed. The air became stifling and hot. “Do I have to?”
“Yes, you have to.”
Astoria frowned, her skin burning all over with something like shame, and her
pussy tingling something fierce. She slowly pulled up her skirt, exposing the
lace at the top of her stockings, and then further up to show a bit of her
panties.
Parkinson’s eyes were bright and intense. “Pull it up around your waist.”
Astoria lifted her skirt higher until it bunched around her middle and her
entire groin was exposed.
“Good girl.” Parkinson’s voice was quiet and low. “How did it feel to have
these on today?”
“It was all right. They sort of bunched up though… wasn’t too comfortable to
sit down.”
Parkinson exhaled roughly.
All of a sudden, her hand was between Astoria’s legs, and Astoria shrieked.
Parkinson clasped her other hand over Astoria’s mouth. “Shut up.”
Parkinson’s fingers moved slowly, tracing the shape of Astoria’s pussy over the
panties.
Astoria stood deathly still, breathing hard and staring at Parkinson in
disbelief. She was sure Parkinson could hear her heartbeat. It was the first
time she’d ever been touched there.
Parkinson traced the line that separated her pussy lips with one finger, moving
it back and forth along the crease.
“They’re moist,” Parkinson said, lowering her hand from Astoria’s mouth.
Astoria’s cheeks burned. “I don’t know why! I think it’s because they kept
bunching up when I sat, and going up… up my… They are really tight, you know. I
told you they were too small.”
“They’re perfect,” Parkinson breathed. Her eyes lowered to Astoria’s chest.
“And the bra?”
Astoria nodded. “I’m wearing it.”
“Let me see it,” Parkinson demanded.
Astoria nodded again shakily, and with one hand still holding up her skirt, she
used the other to unbutton the top of her blouse. Soon, what little cleavage
she had was exposed.
“I’m very pleased, Astoria,” Parkinson said.
Astoria wasn’t sure why, but she felt good knowing that.
“How about we try a little experiment?”
“What is it?” Astoria asked. Part of her wasn’t quite sure she wanted to know,
and another part was dying to find out.
“I want your panties to stay wet. Always.”
Astoria’s pulse sped up. “I don’t know how that would be possible.”
“Oh, you sweet little thing,” Parkinson said, while she resumed petting
Astoria’s pussy, ignoring Astoria’s sharp intake of breath. “Just imagine I’m
touching you like this. I want you to imagine it before every class, just as
the lesson is beginning, so you can be wet all through the hour.”
“But why would I want to? I won’t be able to pay atte -” Astoria jumped and
gasped when Parkinson grabbed one of her nipples hard between her thumb and
forefinger. “Ow,” she whined as Parkinson pinched it. Moisture was gathering in
her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “That hurts,” she said in a small voice.
“What have I told you about questioning me? Hm?” Parkinson squeezed her nipple
and twisted it, and Astoria made a high pitched sound in the back of her
throat. “I know you’re not thick, Greengrass, so why can’t you remember
something so simple?”
“You said not to question you.”
Parkinson let go of her nipple and smiled. She brought her hand up instead to
trace Astoria’s cheek. “Good girl.”
Then Parkinson did something truly surprising: she leaned in and kissed her.
Right on the mouth. Astoria held her breath and didn’t move a muscle - didn’t
even let go of her skirt, which she continued to hold bunched up around her
waist. Her eyes remained open the whole time as her brain raced to process what
was happening.
Moments later, Parkinson pulled away. When she saw the expression on Astoria’s
face, she grinned. “Tomorrow,” she said, “I’ll give you a different set of bra
and panties to wear. You’ll find them under your bed.” She stepped away from
Astoria and turned to grip the tapestry. “Stay here for five minutes after I
leave. Don’t you dare put your skirt down. Think about the shower you’re going
to take this evening. Think about exactly how you’re going to shave all the
hair off your pussy.”
She left Astoria standing there, her mouth open in shock.
Astoria couldn’t sleep that night. As much as she tried to steer her mind away,
it kept roaming back to that kiss. She couldn’t even remember what it felt
like; she had been in too much shock. Her first instinct was to want to be
disgusted, but she slowly accepted the fact that she wasn’t. Far from it,
actually - she was rather intrigued by the kiss. More and more, she found
herself wanting to remember what it had felt like. She licked her lips as she
imagined kissing Parkinson again.
This brought her thoughts to earlier...to the package she had come back to find
underneath her bed.
When she had returned to her room earlier, after dinner, the first thing she
did was kneel and peek under the bed. Just as promised, a small black box sat
on the floor. Astoria had made sure she was alone, then picked it up and sat on
her bed with it.
She still blushed thinking about its contents. The panties were even smaller
this time. Black lace that was so thin in front, it would surely ride inside
her with each step, and the back was a thin-strap thong. Astoria had never worn
a thong before. She wondered what it would feel like.
The bra was even worse. Not only was it sheer again, but this time there was a
hole in each cup where her nipples would stick out.
Astoria shoved her face into her pillow and clenched her thighs tightly.
~ * ~
The first class the following morning was torture. With every step she took,
the skinny thong rode up her twat, and without hair, it was even more smooth
and slippery down there. She immediately got wet - her body’s natural reaction
to the lacy intrusion that rubbed against her clit. It was uncomfortable at
first, but as she got wetter and wetter, the fabric became slicker, and it
didn’t chafe as much. If she sat perfectly still, she was able to ignore it.
The thing that made her blush furiously, though, was the bra. Her nipples fit
right into the holes in the soft cup. They poked through into the open air,
making her feel strange and naked. When she had slipped on her blouse, the
fabric brushed against them. Since the rest of her breast was covered up, the
nipple was extra sensitive, being the only part exposed.
At first they had hardened into little nubs, and she had rubbed them to warm
them and make them soft again. She wondered if Parkinson knew this would
happen, and if she had imagined that Astoria would be standing in her room
rubbing her own nipples. She wondered what Parkinson would think if she saw
her, and a flood of hot embarrassment made her cringe.
In class, she hoped no one could tell. She began to panic, and she wondered if
the white blouse was too sheer and if people could see the color of her pink
nipples through the fabric. She looked around, glancing from one bored-looking
classmate to the next. No one was paying any attention to her, and she was
awarded a small bit of relief.
Parkinson caught her on her way to her second class.
“I can’t right now,” Astoria said, not that she was putting up much of a fight.
Parkinson dragged her by the arm. This time, they went into an empty classroom.
The door clicked shut ominously. “I have to go to Charms. I’ll be late, and
Professor Flitwick will be angry.”
“When is Flitwick ever angry?” Parkinson said. “Besides, I’ll be angry if
you’re not wearing those things on underneath your uniform.”
Astoria’s heart fluttered, and she realized she really did not want to make
Parkinson angry. She did everything she could, in fact, to keep her happy. She
did her makeup again that morning, just like Parkinson wanted. With pink
lipstick and rosy cheeks. Astoria wore a thick white headband in her hair, and
she wore the stockings. She was trussed up just like Parkinson liked. She felt
sort of… used.
“I do,” she insisted.
Parkinson stood unmoving, with her hands on her hips and a hint of a smile on
her mouth. “You know I want proof, Greengrass.”
Astoria felt that familiar tingling again.
“Did you think about me before class today?” Parkinson asked.
Astoria’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. I forgot all about that.”
“What?” Parkinson’s face fell into a frown.
Astoria swallowed, feeling like she’d failed in some way. “I’m sorry. It really
was a mistake. But the good thing is I’m wet! I’m wet anyways, and isn’t that
what you wanted?”
Pansy glared at her in a way that made Astoria nervous. “Lift your skirt,”
Parkinson said quietly.
Astoria wasted no time, and immediately grabbed her skirt and yanked it up to
her waist. She also unbuttoned her top before having to be asked. Her nipples
hardened instantly in the sharp, cool air.
She waited like that for Parkinson to say something. But all she did was circle
Astoria slowly and torturously.
“Look at you,” Parkinson said finally. “At least you have your little outfit
on. Do you like today’s pick?”
“Er…” Astoria bit her lip, trying to think. “It’s not bad. I don’t dislike it.”
“Are you telling me you don’t want to be friends?”
“No,” Astoria said quickly.
“I’ve bought you nice, pretty things. And you don’t even care. You don’t even
want to be my friend after all the time I’ve spent on you.”
“I do want to be friends!”
“You disobeyed me.”
Astoria had never had a friend like this. Were friends supposed to act this
way?
But this was Pansy Parkinson.
“I’m sorry, Pansy,” Astoria said again. “What can I do?”
A slow smile crossed Pansy’s face, and her eyes lit up. “Come with me.”
“But… Charms.”
“What did we just talk about?” Pansy asked sharply, and Astoria shut her mouth.
“Forget Charms, you’re going to miss it. Fix your clothes and follow me.”
~ * ~
Astoria followed a step behind Pansy the whole way, and she realized she was
being led to the dungeons. They passed Astoria’s room and walked to Pansy’s
instead. Astoria recognized Daphne’s trunk in front of one of the beds. Pansy
stopped at the bed next to it. She patted the sheets, gesturing for Astoria to
sit down.
Astoria waited on the edge of the bed for Pansy to get something out of the
bottom drawer of her dresser.
“What’s that?” she asked, staring at the long, thin object in Pansy’s hand.
“Lie down.”
Astoria hesitated.
“Lie down,” Pansy repeated, “and you’ll find out.”
With a sigh, Astoria lied down on the bed, with her legs hanging off the edge
facing Pansy. Staring at the ceiling, she could only see Pansy’s movements from
her peripheral vision, and she didn’t want to lift her head… She thought it
would be easier to just wait. Whatever Pansy was about to do with that thing,
she was just going to wait and find out.
She gasped.
Pansy’s fingers were between her legs again. She felt Pansy lift the piece of
the thong that was lodged between her pussy lips. She pulled on it so tightly,
it squeezed her clit. Astoria whimpered and squirmed, biting her lip to stay
silent.
“You’re right,” Pansy said. “You did get wet today. I suppose your punishment
won’t be too bad, then.”
“P… punishment?”
Pansy laughed softly. “This means you got wet without even thinking of me.
Just… naturally.” She giggled while she traced the naked lips of Astoria’s
pussy. “You’re a natural wetter.”
Astoria’s pussy and ass both clenched; it was an embarrassing thing to be. A
natural at wetting herself. It felt dirty and wrong. Like a little kid who wet
the bed… but this time, she was older and it was somehow even worse than that.
“And you shaved. Good girl.”
A bit of relief flooded Astoria upon being praised.
“Spread your legs.” Pansy threaded the panty out of her and rested it in the
crease of her thigh and her twat. “You’re a sweet girl, really, aren’t you,
Astoria?”
Astoria nodded and hummed a sound of assent. She closed her eyes as Pansy
started to push her finger in…
“What a little slut.”
Astoria opened her eyes, her heart racing and a wave of shame assaulting her.
“I’m not a slut,” she said.
Pansy slapped her right on her pussy, and Astoria jumped and closed her legs.
“Stay still!” Strong hands forced her legs apart. She felt another stinging
slap over her bare pussy.
“Ow!”
“You are a slut.” Slap. “You get wet over nothing. Slap. “You look like a sweet
little girl, with that headband and those pink lips, but you get wet in class.”
Astoria bit her lip as Pansy slapped her over and over, until her pussy stung
and burned. The words echoed in her mind.
“Now you have a pink twat to match. That should teach you to talk back to me.”
Astoria had no idea what was happening. Her eyes moistened dangerously. How did
this… this thing get so far? What had she gotten herself into?
In some deep, dark part of herself, she knew she sort of liked it.
The bed sank as Pansy climbed on, crawling over Astoria’s body. Their faces
were level, and Pansy’s breasts pushed against Astoria’s chest. Astoria felt
herself getting even wetter, her pussy hot from the spanking and from the
feelings coursing through her. Pansy grinned deviously, and Astoria focused on
the curve of her lips. They were so, so close.
She tilted her chin up and caught Pansy’s mouth with her own. Pansy grabbed her
wrists and Astoria let her easily pull her arms over her head, pinning her down
as Pansy deepened the kiss. Astoria had never had an open-mouthed kiss before.
Not with anyone. She felt like Pansy was claiming her, and she let Pansy’s
tongue in to roam where it would.
With one hand, Pansy reached down and inserted a finger into Astoria’s pussy,
and Astoria gasped into her open mouth. First one finger, in and out of her
tight entrance, and then another following the same slow rhythm. Then there
were three, pushing into her slick hole.
She found herself making little whimpering noises in the back of her throat,
and pushing her hips up to take Pansy’s finger’s deeper.
Pansy broke their kiss. “Eager little slut,” she said hoarsely.
Astoria’s eyes were shut tightly. “Yes,” she breathed, lost in the pleasure of
it.
“I know just the thing a slut like you needs.”
Suddenly there weren’t fingers inside her any longer, but the press of a more
solid, blunt object. The thing Pansy was holding earlier… being slowly pushed
inside her. Astoria gritted her teeth, feeling it’s cool, smooth, unyielding
hardness invade her far deeper than Pansy’s fingers had.
Pansy stopped moving it. “There,” she said. “All the way in.”
Astoria breathed deeply, feeling her entire pussy thrum. The object felt solid.
Like an intruder; something foreign inside her that didn’t quite fit and
wouldn’t mould to the inner curve of her body.
“Sit up.”
Astoria moaned and frowned.
“Come on.” Pansy spanked her inner thigh, and Astoria yelped. “Get up now.”
Slowly, and with a heavy sigh, Astoria lowered her arms and lifted herself up
into a sitting position.
“Oh! Oh, my…” She could feel the object even more sharply.
“It’s a vibrator,” Pansy said. “A toy I picked up while you waited.” An evil
smirk covered her flushed face. “Did you ever imagine I was buying something
like this for you while you sat alone in the Hog’s Head?”
Cheeks burning, Astoria shook her head.
Pansy whispered a spell Astoria didn’t recognize, and the vibrator started
buzzing inside her. It was soundless, but it shook her from the inside.
“Pansy!” Astoria clenched her legs together, but that didn’t help, because this
thing was inside her. “Make it stop.”
Pansy broke into a fit of giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. Her eyes
were gleaming with pleasure and power. “I’ll only make it stop before dinner.”
“What? That’s hours from now!”
“You’re wet enough to handle it. Nearly drenched my hand.”
“But Pansy, I have classes. What am I going to do?”
“Relax,” Pansy said, petting Astoria’s mussed hair and straightening it out
with her fingers. “It’s silent - no one can hear it. No one will know it’s
there.” Astoria whimpered and pouted. “Come back here before dinner. If you’re
a good girl and it’s still in place, I will take it out. If I see any sign that
you’ve removed it… and I will know… your punishment will be bad. Do you
understand, little slut?” she asked sweetly.
Astoria’s entire face burned hot with shame. As she slowly nodded her head with
a deep pout, she felt the sentiment grasp her from the inside. Maybe she was a
slut.
~ * ~
It was the first time Astoria couldn’t sit still in class. It was embarrassing.
She clenched her thighs together, tapped her feet, wriggled in her seat… but
nothing seemed to soothe the vibrations inside her. She couldn’t focus on a
word that was being said in the lecture. The room felt hot and claustrophobic.
A boy was staring at her.
Astoria scowled at him. A drop of sweat tickled her skin as it made its way
down her temple.
She faced forward and glared at the professor. The minutes seemed to slowly
roll by, and that in itself was agony.
Blood pounded through her pussy, making her want to rub herself against the
chair, but that would be too obvious and it seemed she already had an audience.
She needed a mental distraction - and the lecture was not cutting it.
Parkinson. She thought of Parkinson. Of her weight on top of her and the way
Parkinson’s fingers slid into her pussy and gave her that sweet relief she
needed. And that kiss… Astoria’s chest fluttered and her breath all but left
her. She wanted Parkinson to kiss her between classes. To kiss her before
lunch. To take Astoria’s hand and lead her to little, secret places in the
castle that only Parkinson knew, and to press Astoria against stone walls, and
kiss her soundly.
Astoria was startled by the movement all around her, and she realized the
lesson had ended. People were packing their books and beginning to file out.
Licking her lips, she fussed with her textbook and pretended to be organizing
her notes of parchment. When even the professor had left - but not before
casting Astoria a sharp, questioning look - Astoria got up quickly from her
seat, swinging her bag over her shoulder.
She glanced at the chair and winced in embarrassment at the clear wetness
smeared on the wooden seat.
There was no way she had the strength to endure another lesson. She nearly ran
in her haste to get back to the dungeons, bumping into people and dodging
others along the way. All she needed to do was get in her bed, and then
everything would be all right.
Her dorm room was empty and quiet at this time of day, the beds all half-made
in evidence of the morning’s shuffle. Astoria dropped her bag, kicked off her
shoes, and jumped onto her bed. She spread herself out on top of the cool,
wrinkled sheets, parting her legs. She let out a high pitched whine.
Her hand traveled lower until her fingers traced her soaked panties, and she
ripped them off. She fingered the base of the vibrator, which was beginning to
slide out of her. Immediately, she held it in with the flat of her palm,
unwilling to disobey Pansy by letting it slip out.
Her pussy was overly sensitive everywhere she touched… and touching felt so
good. So she kept doing it, running her fingers all over herself. She played
with the inner lips of her pussy, stroking them and pulling on them, and then
yelped at the electrifying sensation when she traced over her clit. That was
almost too much, touching there; it bordered on painful.
“Well, well,” came Parkinson’s voice.
Astoria jumped and scrambled into a sitting position. Parkinson stood by the
doorway, one hand gripping the doorknob.
“How did you know I was here?” Astoria asked, panting.
“I saw you after class and followed you.” Parkinson stepped inside and shut the
door behind her, turning the lock to click. “Couldn’t last the rest of the day,
could you?”
“Who could with this thing?” Astoria said, slumping back down onto the mattress
and splaying her legs apart shamelessly, showing Pansy her pussy. “It’s
torturous. It won’t let me relax. I’ve…” She breathed heavily, unbuttoning her
blouse to let her overheated chest breathe. “I’ve never had this feeling
before.”
Pansy sat down next to her on the bed and pulled her own blouse off over her
head, snagging a bit of her hair in the buttons. Astoria stared at Pansy’s
breasts, which were bigger and fuller than hers and which spilled from the top
of her bra. It was a mesmerizing sight.
Pansy’s half naked body loomed over of her. “I can make it better,” Pansy said,
reaching between Astoria’s legs.
“Oh, God, yes!” Astoria felt relief in waves, and she eagerly awaited whatever
it was Pansy had in store for her. She nearly cried when she felt Pansy finally
pull the vibrator out. “Oh, that’s so strange now. I feel so empty now.”
Pansy laughed, and her smile became devious. “I can help with that.” She wasted
no time in shoving three whole fingers into Astoria’s pussy, and this time,
Astoria moaned with pleasure.
“Please,” she said, pushing her hips onto Pansy’s hand. “More… Harder.”
“God, what a slut.” Pansy complied, fucking Astoria fast with her fingers as
she looked down upon her and laughed.
“Oh. Oh, yes.” Astoria couldn’t care less what she was saying, or what it
sounded like. All she knew was how amazing it felt to have Pansy’s fingers up
her pussy. “Yes, Pansy, please do it more.”
Pansy laughed again. She reached up and pulled down the cups of Astoria’s bra,
and Astoria’s breasts fell out. They bounced up and down on her chest with the
motion of the fucking.
“Look at you,” Pansy said, grinning broadly.
She suddenly stopped and pulled her hand from between Astoria’s legs. With a
swift movement, she climbed on top of Astoria, straddling her hips. Astoria
looked up just as Pansy was removing her own panties and pulling them off one
leg, before flinging them onto the floor.
“Feel that?” Pansy asked when she sat back down on Astoria. “That’s my pussy…
all over you. Fucking you.”
Her hot, wet pussy slid over Astoria’s lower stomach, grinding her into the
mattress with the rutting of Pansy’s hips. Astoria whined, her breasts bouncing
harder as she was fucked.
Pansy’s eyes looked hazily upon Astoria’s body, her brow set in a look of
determination. She took what she wanted from Astoria. In moments, Pansy began
to shudder. She closed her eyes and grinded frantically, in small pulses, her
neck and cheeks more flushed than ever. Finally, she cried out. Pansy’s
shoulders sagged, and she breathed heavily.
Astoria bucked her hips, her own need unsated.
Pansy opened her eyes and looked at her as if she had forgotten Astoria
entirely. Then she lifted a leg and slid off Astoria’s body. Astoria watched as
Pansy found her blouse and panties on the floor and took her time getting
redressed.
“Pansy?” Astoria said, her voice needy even to her own ears.
Pansy looked at her and smirked. She walked to the edge of the bed, and without
even getting on, she rubbed Astoria’s clit with two fingers. Astoria threw her
head back with a moan, and squirmed and lifted her legs into the air. Pansy was
relentless, her fingers whipping back and forth, massaging Astoria’s clit
furiously.
A feeling built up deep inside her, and soon Astoria’s mind went totally blank,
and she forgot where she was and even whom she was with. All she saw knew was
pleasure, and she yelled out as her body clenched up and shook, her limbs all
trembling.
When she came back down, her head a bit fuzzier than before, she looked upon
Pansy with heavily-lidded eyes. Astoria couldn’t even speak. Couldn’t make a
sound.
“Very nice, Greengrass.” Pansy smiled, this time almost friendly. She leaned
over Astoria, their faces inches apart, and then pressed their lips together.
End Notes
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