Harriet Hotter Ch. 08

Story Info
Spell causes Harriet to get aroused by dirty words.
2.2k words
4.33
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Part 8 of the 15 part series

Updated 10/13/2022
Created 01/18/2002
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Couture
Couture
3,839 Followers

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 . . .

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Couture
Couture
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  • COMMENTS
1 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 17 years ago
excellent!

A highly entertaining and very well thought out parody. Perhaps you could do enid blyton next? heh heh.

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