Chapter 18

There was a certain amount of pleasure in having the most prominent pureblood princess of the school under his command, ready to follow his every order, Harry noted even as he gently bit her shoulder, leaving a soft mark behind before pulling back, enjoying the view, especially the way he made her dress. A loose golden robe would have fully covered her body modestly if it wasn't for its fatal flaw of total transparency. And making things even starker for her, she desperately needed that cover with rest of her clothes consisting only a shelf-bra and a nominally more covering g-string. And, adding insult to the injury, they were colored golden and scarlet.

But her clothes weren't the important part, he thought, no matter how amusingly humiliating it was to make one of the most prominent members of the House of Slytherin to dress in a stripper-version of Gryffindor uniform. No, that honor went to the softness of her skin, he added, his hand slipped under the silky cover of her robe, tracing the contours of her body sensuously. That, and her obedient acceptance of his touch, with far-reaching implications not limited to sexual opportunities it afforded to him.

It was funny, he thought as he brought his hand even lower, circling around the edge of her breasts, feeling the way she shuddered whenever his hand made an adventurous move. Just a month ago, having her physical obedience would have eclipsed anything else in his life. But the last month had been particularly productive on the physical side of the things, to a point that he felt more challenged choosing which one of the targets he was going to spend the night together rather than seduction part. Hence, the increase of the relative importance of her as a spy.

Still, he was thankful that her pending job as a spy didn't require him to stop the physical side of the things in any shape or form. On the contrary, physical training like that would only enhance his hold over her, training her until he was absolutely sure that she would always follow his directions without deviation. To be fair, the ultimate activities was slipping lower in the importance in each passing second, sped up by the smooth sensation he enjoyed as he dragged his hand down. And there was a bonus on the situation as well. With the other girls, he still needed to put an act. With Daphne, he could just enjoy her body his heart's content. No mask, no acting…

"Then, what happened?" Harry added, forcing her to talk about yet another trivial event that happened in the Slytherin Common room. As she talked, he turned his attention back to her neck, softly kissing the bite marks that were left by his earlier treatment. He knew that to Daphne, it seemed like he wasn't paying attention to what she was saying, that he was forcing her to speak just as an expression of his power, but she was wrong. He was using his occlumency talents to commit her words to his memory, and since she was too distracted to come up with a lie, or be careful about what she talked about and what she didn't, she was giving him excellent information about the internal power structure of Slytherin house.

While doing so, he didn't neglect her body either, his occlumency allowing to split his attention perfectly. So, while he dissected her words, his hands slid to her bottom, encasing her bubble butt in his merciless grip. She let out a pained gasp, but that withered quickly after his warning glare. "So, Daphne," he asked with a casual tone. "Are you enjoying this?"

That question managed to shock Daphne despite the situation she was in. She pulled back, conflict clear on her face. Her enjoyment was clear on her face, but it was accompanied by a thick denial. Conflict reigned in her eyes for a moment, but only for a moment. "No," she managed to murmur, which would have been a more believable lie if it wasn't for her eyes, trembling with deep arousal.

Harry brought his gaze on hers as one of his hands climbed towards her neck. He gently grasped her neck, feeling her out-of-control pulse thumping under his fingers. "Are you lying to me, Daphne," he said menacingly. She opened her mouth, but she was too choked with panic to actually answer.

Without warning, Harry pushed her back, slamming her on the bed, hard enough to injure her if the surface was something other than thickly-layered cotton and silk. He tightened his hand around her neck, enough to cut her breathing, but not hard enough to actually harm. "Let's try again," he said with a cheerfulness that contrasted the moment. "Were you enjoying the treatment you have been receiving just moments ago?"

"Yes," Daphne whispered, managing to drag out an answer.

Unfortunately for her, Harry was just starting. There was a certain interesting dimension in the way she reacted to his last move, and he wanted to check its limits. "Next question, princess. Are you enjoying this?" he asked, squeezing her throat just a bit to remove any doubt about what he was talking about.

Her eyes were windows to a tornado of confusion and denial, but both were turned inward. Her silence dragged until Harry squeezed her throat once more. "Yes," she gasped once more, her voice cracking with the rough treatment. "I'm enjoying it."

"Excellent," Harry said, but he didn't loosen his grip. "Let's move on to the next one. Which one did you enjoy more? The previous one, or my fingers around your throat, slowly cutting off your breath."

Once again, it took a while for her to answer, not that there was any doubt about her answer. Her stricken look was answer enough. Interesting, Harry thought, but not completely unexpected. The way she folded during their previous encounter heavily hinted her submissive tendencies, and an actual kink towards bondage wasn't too big of a stretch. "The latter," she said, defeated but truthful.

"Oh, princess," he murmured excitedly even as he squeezed her throat once more, while his other hand started exploring her body aggressively. "We're going to have so much fun together." Then, without a warning, his hand around her throat moved away, and pulled her up by tugging her hair, a move that forced her to cry painfully, but Harry didn't have the guess to know she was enjoying it. He directly read it from her eyes.

He decided to weaponize intimacy as a tool to silence her, and slammed his lips against hers. His tongue slipped in without losing a second, starting exploring her mouth. Her tongue lay passive in her mouth, conceding his superiority without a fight. During the kiss, his hand was still around her hair, maintaining his painful grip on her thick forest. It hurt her, but instead of complaining, she was showing signs of enjoyment.

He let her hair go, sliding both hands to her back, and before she could even react, he was grabbing her robe. Her thin, fragile robe. It didn't have a chance to resist when Harry tugged harshly, ripping it in two pieces. She stiffened with the escalation as his hands started roaming on her naked back aggressively, keeping their lips connected. Her lips were still passive, accepting, but they were dancing with his nevertheless.

It was time to heat up things even further, Harry decided. His hand slid down to her bottom, caressing her skin for a moment before pulling back. They landed back a second later, and they landed with a crack of thunder on her skin. She pulled back from the kiss, her mouth open in a pained cry, but he didn't let her cry to finish. He grabbed her hair, stiff enough to get her attention. "Who told you that you can pull back," he said slowly, enjoying the shape of each word in his mouth as they left.

"I'm sorry," Daphne stuttered as she tried to lean forward, but Harry pressed his finger on her lips, preventing her from doing so.

"Did I tell you to start again," he said with the same deceptively soft tone as he pulled back a bit, doing his best to not to crack a smile, but it was hard as he looked at Daphne, who looked eerily similar to a kitten lost in a downpour of rain. "Bring me some water, I'm thirsty," he ordered, gesturing towards the small table with a crystal pitcher.

He hoped for her to reach for her wand to summon it, his fingers itching to punish her, but she surprised him by standing up instead. He shrugged dismissively. Apparently, he was more successful in training her than he first presumed. He leaned back for a better view as Daphne tried to keep her robe on despite the huge tear on its back, but after a few steps of struggle, she gave up, and the robe slid on the ground like a golden smoke, leaving her crimson underwear as the only clothing she had, deficient as it was.

And the view got only better after she filled the glass for him and turned back. Thanks to the shelf bra he had picked up for her, her nipples were in full display. They looked as stiff as a rock, and Harry doubted that the relative cold of the Chamber was the only reason. Her breasts shook attractively with each step, making her left arm, free of encumbrance, twitching with a desire to cover, but she was smart enough to know that it wouldn't help.

"Thank you, princess," he said as he took the glass from her hands, and slowly drank it, keeping his eyes on her body for the full duration. With each passing second, her blush darkened, but she neither said anything, nor she tried to cover her body despite her obvious discomfort. She was learning.

When he finished the glass, instead of passing it back to her, he threw it against the wall which previously housed Slytherin's statue. The wall was far enough that no risk of cutting themselves with an errand shard, but it echoed loudly in the empty room. Daphne flinched, but otherwise didn't react.

"Undress me," he ordered, deciding that it was finally time for the main event. Daphne reached for his shirt hesitantly, her delicate fingers started to struggle with his buttons. She was too nervous to do it quickly, her fingers fumbling whenever she tried to quicken, but nevertheless, his chest was naked a minute later. He raised his arms, allowing her to remove his shirt completely, leaving his chest naked, his muscles on display. Her gaze sliding to examine his muscles from close, or the way her fingers lingered on their contours didn't hurt his pride either.

The tremble on her fingers intensified further as she reached for her belt, struggling to take it off, only to fumble again and again. But Harry said nothing. Watching Daphne struggle was fun, and the way she was currently dressed went a long way to make the scene enjoyable. Annoyance was building up on her face after every failure was the sauce for his enjoyment.

Harry raised himself on the bed a bit after Daphne succeeded in releasing his belt, allowing her to pull his pants down, leaving his boxers as the only thing that hid his massive erection, a job that it did poorly, reminding Daphne the next task that lay in front of her. The shaking returned to her fingers with revenge, but she still hooked them to the elastic of his boxers and pulled them down, revealing his shaft with all of its glory, throbbing with excitement.

"You know what to do, don't you," Harry said. Daphne said nothing, not that she needed to while she fell on her knees on the side of the bed, positioning her pretty mouth inches away from his girth. He watched from his comfortable position as she wrapped her lips around his crown, barely hesitating for a moment before diving even deeper. Her tongue joined the flow a moment later, hesitant and confused, but invoking pleasure nevertheless. Seeing her debasing herself with just a few direct orders was amazingly pleasurable.

Of course, he had no intention of letting things go without extra effort. "Keep your eyes on me," he ordered. Daphne looked up, only to meet with his smoldering gaze. He decided a small reward was in order. "Good girl," he said, watching as she perked up despite her challenging position. "Now, go deeper."

Daphne blinked in shock, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue. But admittedly, he might have read it wrong, as his shaft in her mouth went a long way to obscure her expression. She took a deep breath, then pushed herself down, trying to devour more and more of his shaft. But with each inch, her struggles intensified, showing that taking it all without assistance was still above her skill level.

But that wasn't enough to get his mercy. She closed her eyes to concentrate as the top of his shaft tickled the entrance of her throat. "Who said you can close your eyes," he said sharply, flicking one of her nipples harshly to underline his statement. Her eyes popped open in an instant. "Good, now go even deeper. I want you to swallow all of it."

Her incredulous expression told him that she had no confidence in success for the act, but that didn't keep her from trying in desperate hope. Her hands grabbed his thighs for leverage as she tried to stuff her throat with his shaft. She started gagging in an instant, and shut her eyes for a moment until he reminded her his previous order with another painful flick of his finger on her nipple. She tried to keep her gaze up as she forced deeper, but the gagging and wheezing didn't allow her to move forward. He could have 'helped' her like he did the last time, but this time, he had better plans for her…

Soon, she pulled back, coughing and wheezing as she tried to balance herself.

"Stand up," Harry ordered, uncaring of her plight, and Daphne followed his direction. A moment later, she was standing in front of him, ready to follow his orders despite her reddened face, her lips bruised, her hair mussed. "Your failure deserves a punishment," he added as he straightened his back, his shaft throbbing with excitement for the next step. He patted his lap. "Sit!"

The shock that spread on her face was delicious enough to eat. "No-" she tried to argue loudly, her mouth open in shock, but her will to argue didn't survive for long under his heated glare. "My virginity-" she added with a pleading tone, only to receive the same intimidating glare.

Harry tapped his fingers impatiently. "Are you sure that testing my patience is the best you can do, especially with your most recent display of incompetence?" Though, he was doubtful of their efficiency even as he whispered those words. What he was asking her from was something really important, especially when considering her position as the heiress. And when she turned her back, for a moment he thought that she was going to walk away. But her fingers found the lines of her g-string instead.

She was slow and reluctant as she pushed down her panties, but he enjoyed it, as with her back turned, he had a prime view of her sexy bottom. Her face was hidden, which was a pity as it made Harry miss what likely was a spectacular expression. Still, it wasn't important enough for him to interject, ruining the magic of the moment.

Then, she took a step backward, trying to sit on his lap with her back against his chest. The last thing she would be able to hide at the moment, the expression on her face she lost her virginity. And of course, he had no intention of letting her do that. "Stop," he ordered, and she froze. "Turn towards me," he added.

Daphne stayed frozen, so Harry decided to incentivize her to move. His hand landed on her bottom loudly, hard enough to trigger her bottom shaking temptingly. She turned to face him, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she struggled to process her latest order. But still, she followed his orders without requiring any direct mental manipulation, proving her boundless submission potential. It was just the third encounter, and she failed to show even the slightest bit of resistance.

Admittedly, the venue helped, Harry reasoned as he watched Daphne getting closer in glacial steps, leaving him a bit of time for introspection. In the chamber, the heart of the power for the founder of her house, and the carcass of the most aggressive version of her house emblem… It was a symbolism that Daphne proved to be particularly vulnerable.

But then, Daphne rose to her tiptoes, preparing herself for the penetration, and Harry focused on more immediate concerns. Like the wave of pleasure that was about to dominate his mind. "Please," she whispered, trying her luck for the one last time, but from what he could hear, she didn't sound beat-up about the possibility. "My family…"

"Enough," he said sharply. Daphne nodded obediently, and started to lower herself towards his shaft, her eyes firmly shut. That would not do, Harry decided. "Open your eyes."

Her eyes opened to reveal the beautiful blue of her eyes. She tried to gaze away, but she was pinned under his gaze. It didn't take long for her to realize that resistance was useless, and she started to lower herself once more. The crown of his shaft disappeared between her wet lips, and Harry sent a legilimency probe into her mind. This time, his objective wasn't to change her mind, but to get a better view of her mood and the feelings.

And what a kaleidoscope it was. Guilt mixed with pleasure, horror danced with excitement, and desperation flirted with elation… And as she slid down his shaft bit by bit, her fear spiked, but also her anticipation. In a primal part of her brain, she must have understood that the moment allowed her to push for the next level, that somehow elevated her into something more than an uppity bitch with no life ambition, wallowing in mediocracy, into a part of the life story of someone that was destined for greatness.

Even if that part was nothing more than a dirty toy…

She stopped the moment he felt the presence of a barrier, closing his way to paradise. She looked at him, begging for his mercy for one last time, but only found a dark smirk instead. She lacked the power to argue further. A trembling breath left her mouth as she finally surrendered, and moved even deeper. A pained gasp followed her breath as she impaled herself halfway to his shaft.

It was credit for his rapidly growing experience that he managed to resist the exquisite expression on Daphne's face as she stepped on the road with no return, pleasure warring with guilt. He let her stay there for a while to get used to his presence, but kept the eye contact, monitoring her expression and her thoughts at the same time.

"Start moving," he ordered a minute later, and she raised herself clumsily on his length, only to push back on, devouring more of his shaft. "Again," he added, and she repeated the motion, managing to devour just a bit more of his shaft, but her tightness prevented her from going any deeper.

He decided that since she was being such a good sport, she deserved a reward. He brought his hands on her skin, letting them free to dance over her skin to search her most sensitive spots. But with his unfair advantage of full-time access to her mind, his secret weapon was much more devastating, identifying her most sensitive spots with a trivial amount of effort, then tweaking them until she was rocked with endless waves of pleasure, but he was careful not to push her hard enough to make her climax.

His tactics worked splendidly. She started to pick up speed as her pleasure started to build-up. In the beginning, she was careful still as she moved up and down, but she took deeper and deeper without his directive. Then, things took a turn for the better, and she quickened without a prompt for him. She tried to keep her face neutral to hide the fact that it was her own body that forced her to do rather than his orders, but with his direct access to her thoughts, she lacked the ability to hide them from him…

Five minutes. Five more minutes of careful edge-play was all it took for Daphne to desert the last scrap of control and started jumping up and down on his lap as she sought her climax. But Harry had one last trick in his quiver. "Stop!" he ordered, and Daphne did so, her expression incredulous. "That's enough for today. You can leave." Daphne looked at him with shock. "Am I not clear," he said, underlining the threat with a mental push.

Daphne pulled out and took a step back, still looking at him with an incredulous expression, trying to process what had just happened. "You can dress and leave," he ordered, and Daphne turned her back, walking towards the connecting room where her robe and other items lay. "And, you're forbidden from touching yourself, or doing anything without someone else," he added just as she was about to disappear at the doorway.