Harriet Hotter Ch. 07

(Ff, humil, etc.)

Please do not read if under 18 years of age or offended by sexually explicit stories and situations.

(c) 2002 Couture

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The only problem was . . . Harriet didn't like it at Frogwart's. During her magic classes, she couldn't so much as summon the easiest magic. The teachers almost seemed frantic for her to perform some feat.

"Come on Harriet, you can do it. You summoned an earthquake, surely you can summon a bit of fire," urged Morganna.

Harriet stared at the match stick with her brow furrowed in concentration. She pointed her wand and recited the incantation, while imagining the stick bursting in flames. Nothing happened. Nothing ever happened. The only thing that happened was that she grew embarrassed. Not so much from the fact that the match didn't light. That she could handle. After all, she was quite certain she wasn't a witch.

The problem was - well, Harriet wasn't really sure exactly what the problem was, but she suspected it was the wand they had given her. Oh, sure they said it had chosen her, but she didn't believe it for a minute. It was just some cruel joke they were playing with her.

Every witch's wand was different, but they were mostly similar. They were usually made of wood or ivory, around one and half foot in length, and a little bigger around than a pencil. However, Harriet's wand was an exception. It wasn't elegant at all. It was fat with a rounded end. It reminded her of -- she blushed to think about it - her Aunt's dildo. The dildo Chloe had used on her, before she was kidnapped and taken to this horrid school.

The other girls always made fun of her every time she pointed that stupid wand and tried to weave a spell. Worse, whenever she did, she could feel herself flush with arousal.

Harriet groaned with her frustration. "I can't do it, damn it. I'm not a witch and I never will be. I just want to go back home." It was frustrating. She wondered why they wouldn't listen and why they wouldn't let her go back home to Chloe.

"Well, you can try again tomorrow, Harriet" said Madame Bartinova. "Okay, Heather, why don't you come up and levitate this desk."

Harriet sat at her desk and daydreamed about living back at home with Chloe, while Heather attempted to levitate the desk.

Heather made the necessary words and motions and the desk began to rise with her wand. When the desk got about 2 feet off the ground it hesitated and vibrated. The vibrations the vibrations grew in strength until the desk upended itself and crashed to the floor.

Madame Bartinova winced at Heather's performance. "For homework, everyone needs to practice their spells so you can do a better job than you did today." She pointed her wand, spun the desk around and placed it firmly on its legs again.

'Damn it!' thought Heather. 'I should have been able to do that. It's that damn Mud Witch's fault. Ever since they put her in my room, I haven't been able to sleep or concentrate. Every night it's the same old thing. She goes to bed and then starts to cry. The next thing you know, she's breathing heavy and the bed starts squeaking. Oh Chloe! Oh Chloe! It's disgusting. How can I be expected to function with such perversions going on? Then, when I asked to be moved away from the little dyke, Madame Morganna denied my request. Well, there's more than one way to get a dorm by myself.' Heather grinned an evil grin and hurried off to start trouble for Harriet. 'Hee-hee, this is going to be perfect - just perfect to fix that little mud bitch,' thought Heather, as she murmured some incantations while she attempted to cast a spell much out of her range on an object on the table. She felt her nipples harden in anticipation of her new roommate's embarrassment.

"And just what do you think you are doing girl?" asked Madame Hilda.

Heather quickly turned around hiding something behind her back. "Nothing," she replied, while her eyes darted frantically.

"Really?" Madame Hilda tilted Heathers head up with her wand and then traced along her breast to her arm. "What's behind your back girl?"

Heather blushed and brought her closed fist in front of her. "It's only my . . . panties," she said, opening her hand.

Madame Hilda gave her a stern look. "Put them on."

"What?"

"You heard me girl. Put them on. *Now*."

Heather couldn't believe this was happening and it was all that damn Harriet's fault- the Mud witch. 'Damn it, there's nothing to do but do what she wants.'

Heather blushed furiously and reached up under her robe and pulled her panties off. To her horror, she discovered they were slightly damp. She was aroused thinking of her wicked plan. 'This is not how this is supposed to go at all,' she thought.

Madame Hilda pointed her wand at her. Heather closed her eyes expecting the worse. She felt chill bumps from fear, but didn't receive the expected lashing. When she opened her eyes, she squealed. She was naked!

"You'll get them back when we are finished here. Now put them on." Madame Hilda handed Heather the panties, Heather had attempted to enchant earlier.

Heather gulped and slowly stepped into the panties. She took particular care to pull them up slowly - very slowly so as not to disturb them. However, when the silken garment made contact with her downy fur, they twitched. Then they struggled against her as if they were afraid to make contact with her virginal bush. A mouth formed in the fabric and bit the poor girl on her clit.

"Ouch!" Heather screamed, letting go of the panties, which quickly scurried down her legs and huddled in the corner.

Madame Hilda pointed her wand at them and vaporized them in a puff of smoke. "Really dear, maybe you should go get a potion from Madam Warren for your feminine odor."

Heather blushed in response and began to cry.

"Now tell me exactly what you were doing and why."

Heather told Madame Hilda all about what was happening with the new girl and her midnight antics were affecting her school work. She continued on in more detail as the older woman nodded her head in sympathy.

"Oh you poor dear," Madame Hilda said when Heather was finished. She reached in her bag and pulled out two knitting needles. "First of all, you shouldn't try to magic objects. You're to wear the white and whites leave the magicking of objects to reds."

"B-but," stuttered Heather. "I don't know what robe I'm to wear."

"Girl, you have no artistic ability whatsoever, so you are definitely not to wear the red and you avoid conflict too much to wear the black."

"But Madame, you wear the white."

Hilda's blue eyes flashed in warning, though her face remained a stoic mask. "Just because I avoid conflict doesn't mean I can't hold my own against the red or the black. Here, get up on the stool girl," she said as a stool slid magically toward Heather from across the room.

Heather stared at it in fear. She wondered what Hilda had in store for her.

"Up girl. I won't ask again."

Heather stood up on the stool. It was bad enough to be standing in front of a teacher naked, much less to do so and be visible aroused. She tried to cover her nakedness, only to have Hilda spank her hands with the wand.

"Much better," Hilda told the blushing girl. "Now tell me, are you a virgin?"

"Ah-ah-ah-y-yes," stuttered Heather.

"Never mind, I'll check it myself." Hilda ran a finger through the dark brown hair of Heather's sex, before experimentally poking a finger at her tight opening. She frowned and stuck the finger all to her joint without meeting resistance. "I see you are a true blonde, about as much as you are a true virgin."

Tears welled in the young girl's eyes. "I-I-I only did it with ah-myself," she cried.

"Well, I guess that'll do for this purpose. Tell me Heather, would you like me to help you devise a prank for the Wilding? The best prank ever?"

Heather's answer was quick. "Yes." She wanted the new girl to suffer at least as much as she had at the hands of Madame Hilda.

"That's my girl," said Madame Hilda. She dug in her satchel and pulled out a large bowl that was larger than the bag itself and two knitting needles.

Madame Hilda handed Heather the bowl. "Here, hold this and place your and over it like so." Then, while Heather held her hand palm up over the bowl, Hilda quickly slashed her smooth skin with the sharp needle.

"Oh-god-oh-god," Heather repeated. Her stomach grew queasy at the sight of her own blood.

Hilda placed Heather's wand in her mouth. "Close your mouth girl, before a harpy flies in."

Heather held onto her wand with her lips and teeth. It felt reassuring to have her wand back, even though she was sure she was no match for Madame Hilda.

"Now, concentrate on healing your hand, while I make some magick for your little roommate."

Heather's eyes narrowed in concentration, as she attempted to heal the wound on her hand. She was at a disadvantage because the wand was in her mouth and she couldn't utter the proper incantations, but she could see that the bleeding was starting to slow.

Meanwhile, Madame Hilda dipped the tips of her needles in the blood-filled bowl. Then she set to work knitting an invisible garment over the girl's crotch.

At first, Heather was only aware of the pain in her bleeding hand, but she began to feel a warming-an aching in her sex. Soon the warming grew into a feeling of pure pleasure and her hips began to hump of their own volition. It felt as if she were being licked by hundreds of tongues in her most intimate of places. "Ehhhmmmm . . ." she gasped.

Hilda hurried at her task, her hands blurring as they knitted. "Concentrate on the pain girl, don't you dare lose control," she warned.

Heather tried to think about the cut -- about the pain, but soon the pleasure in her sex overwhelmed everything else. It felt like her cunt was boiling with pleasure and the pressure was too much for her to contain. It was more pleasure than she had ever felt before, even more potent than her first orgasm.

When it burst forth, Heather was only vaguely aware of what was going on. In fact, she could see her body below her as if she hovered above herself. Her body looked almost possessed as it bucked and squirmed on top of the stool. Her thighs shown from her sexual secretions leaking from her sex.

"Ugh-ugh-ugh-ugh," her body grunted, as her hips bucked lewdly.

Madame Hilda quickly tied off the ends of the spell she was weaving, and Heather felt herself snatched back into her body. Instantly, her need overtook her.

"Please," she groaned in a long wail. There was no orgasm. It had just dissipated into nothingness.

The bowl dropped from her hand, but Hilda's quick hands were there to catch it. She carefully placed it upright into her satchel. Then she licked the remainder of the blood from the needles, before placing them inside as well.

"All done girl. You can get down now." Madame Hilda, helped support the poor girl as she collapsed from the stool. She quickly healed the cut on Heather's hand. No trace of the wound remained.

"Please," Heather begged. She was no longer turned on, but she felt the absence of the wonderful orgasm that disappeared sorely. She touched her nipple and then her sex, but there was nothing. She was numb - bereft of pleasure.

"That will do you no good. It's gone." Madame Hilda held something between her fingers. It was invisible, yet occasionally when she moved, the air was disturbed as it is when heat moves off a hot object.

Heather caught sight of it. "What is it?"

"It's a spell stupid. I've caught your orgasm and imprisoned it in this spell. When you put this on Harriet, she will experience the sexual pleasure you felt, but she will be unable to climax."

A shudder ran through the young student. The little mud bitch was going to pay for the problems she had caused, but she had one very strong reservation.

"But will-I-will-I be able to . . .ah-you know?"

Madame Hilda smiled knowingly at the girl's embarrassment. "Of course you will be able to orgasm, but it will probably be tomorrow before you are strong enough to."

Heather rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "God, this is going to be so great. What do I do?"

"Well, you just hold on to the spell real tight." Madame Hilda handed the invisible panties to Heather. Heather couldn't see them, but when her fingers closed, she felt a tingling in her fingertips.

"Then, you lay it on top of Harriet's panties and press it in real good. When she puts them on, the spell will be transferred to her." Madame Hilda cocked her head to the side and stared into space for a few seconds and then a smile broke across her impassive face. "Yes, that will do very well."

She took her wand and made a few more incantations over the invisible panties. "Now I've enchanted them so that whenever she hears a filthy word or her own name, she will get more and more turned on."

Heather giggled, while Hilda cackled at this new twist. They young student walked toward the door, she was eager to pull her prank.

"Forgetting something, girl?"

Heather looked down and blushed. She was still naked.

"Hold your hands up."

Heather obeyed, and Hilda pointed her wand at Heather's clothes. Her undergarments and robe magically floated over and soon the student was dressed. Finally, Hilda pointed the wand at Heather's forehead.

"Close your eyes Heather. When you open them back up again, you will not tell anyone a word of this . . . In fact, this was all your idea. I was never here."

Heather opened her eyes and blinked a few times to clear her vision. Hilda was nowhere to be found and all that Heather remembered was coming up with the most wonderful spell to use for her practical joke. She finally felt like a witch -- a powerful witch, after creating such a complicated spell. She tried to remember how she created it, but her mind grew foggy when she tried to remember the incantation. "Oh bugger it, it doesn't matter how I did it, only that I did do it."

She hurried to her dorm room and found Harriet's clothes lying on the dresser. 'This is going to be so easy,' she thought. 'The mud bitch neat freak always leaves out the clothes she is going to wear to bed.'

Sure enough, Harriet had left her pajamas and panties on the dresser. Heather placed the magical spell on top of the panties and pressed them in. "You're mine now, bitch," she giggled as she went over to her bed waited for Harriet to arrive.

To be continued . . .

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