Not for the first time, Harry found himself regretting taking the sabbatical at Hogwarts. While true that there were some things his temporary replacement could handle in his absence, there were plenty of other things that could not be done without Harry’s explicit approval. He’d tried to keep up with those even when he was away at Hogwarts, having far too much fun, but as it turned out, he’d not even really known the half of it.
 
His brief time away from his office had left the place flooded with paperwork. For once in a very long while, Harry did NOT want any women distracting him, could not afford to take breaks for a quickie here or there. Even the pretty sight of Tonks in her ‘default’ form, which these days was a lot less plain and a lot more ‘MILF-y Bombshell’, did nothing but fill Harry with dread these days, mostly because she usually appeared while lugging additional reams of documents waiting for his attention.
 
On top of all that though, Harry still had to keep up with his usual work as well. Such as dealing with petitioners, which he very well might have relished, but not every petitioner could be an Astoria or a Narcissa, or even a Fleur. No, in fact, the vast majority of people who had enough wealth and clout to get a private one-on-one meeting with the Head Auror were either grouchy old hags or grouchy old fogies who were demanding or complaining about this or that. Usually the lack of auror patrols around their neighborhoods.
 
So yes, Harry was at his wits end. He was not doing well, and honestly, he was really, really sick and tired of being cooped up in his office with all this damn paperwork. It may have only been three days since he returned, but that was three fucking days too many. He was honestly prepared to resign in protest when the report finally crossed beneath his eyes.
 
Nearing the end of his rope, Harry was too tired and too glazed over from reading dozens upon dozens of inane reports to fully comprehend what he had in front of him, at least at first. But slowly but surely, it caught, and he found himself re-reading it, and then reading it a third time for good measure. The report was a tip off from some random anonymous citizen, which was why it’d not been checked out before now, and instead added to his piles of paperwork.
 
Honestly, it shouldn’t have even been brought to his attention. It was probably a false alarm, the kind of tip they got all the time these days, given that Pureblood Thinking was no longer in fashion and everyone was looking for a reason to rag on them. The report detailed a tip that some dead Pureblood’s decrepit mansion had a store of dark arts contraband inside of it, but it didn’t actually give any concrete evidence, or details. Just an address.
 
Yet… it was exactly what Harry needed. The chance to stretch his legs and raid some old Pureblood’s home? Oh yeah, that was something he could deal with. Standing up, Harry grabs his Head Auror’s coat and heads for the door to his office. The moment he steps outside of course, a snappy voice cuts in from his left.
 
“Where are you going?”
 
Under any normal circumstances, Harry would have taken Tonks back into his office, bent her over his desk, and paddled her behind red for that tone of voice. But then, under normal circumstances, Tonks would never have spoken in that tone in the first place to the man she herself had declared to be her Master. But Master or no, there was only so much torturous desk duty that a secretary could handle, and while Harry had been gone, Tonks had been put in charge of babysitting the wizard who sat in his place. From what she’d told him, she’d ended up doing most of the paperwork that didn’t need to wait for his personal attention.
 
Flashing Tonks, a quick smile, Harry shrugs on his coat.
 
“Out! Head Auror Business, you understand. Hold down the fort while I’m gone!”
 
His magic warns him a moment before it happens, thus allowing Harry to avoid being tied up in conjured ropes as Tonks angrily stands up and tries to capture him before he can leave.
 
“Don’t you dare, Harry!”
 
He dodges easily though, even as the other Aurors in the area look up to see their boss fighting with his secretary. It’s a testament to their own hatred of paperwork that none step in to help him. In point of fact, some look ready to help TONKS when he grins sheepishly and says the next thing that comes out of his mouth.
 
“Why don’t you all jump in and try to clean up my office a bit, yeah? Good luck!”
 
And then he’s gone, right as a whole bunch of angry underlings are reaching the end of their own ropes. Harry feels a teensy bit guilty over leaving them all to suffer in his stead, but if he’s being honest… better them than him, right? Getting to one of the Ministry Floos, Harry tosses in a bit of powder and speaks clearly.
 
“Diagon Alley!”
 
And then he’s gone, transported along with that mess of paperwork left behind him, thankfully.
 
-x-X-x-
 
When he knocks on the door to the massive mansion, Harry isn’t sure what to expect. On the one hand, it’s very old… but on the other, it’s also still clearly very well taken care of. This surprises him, because the report said that the man who’d owned it last had been dead for months. Yet, there was no overgrowth, so either someone was still taking care of it, or they’d laid a rather powerful enchantment on the house grounds for it to remain clear this long.
 
Regardless, Harry is half-expecting no one to answer, allowing him to enter of his own accord, because of the tip off. But instead, there is indeed an answer to his knock within half a minute, and Harry’s brow rises in surprise at just who it is who opens the door for him. He recognizes her immediately, of course, though in truth, they’ve never spoken before today. Miss Sofia Zabini, a wife seven times over and quite rich because of it. Of interest was the fact that despite marrying into a number of wealthy families and then inheriting quite a lot when her husbands ‘mysteriously’ died, she had still never acquired an actual title.
 
Though, that fact wasn’t really what was on Harry’s mind as he took in the sight of the gorgeous woman. It really didn’t help that she wasn’t wearing anything more than a rather sheer nightgown and said nightgown did absolutely nothing at all to hide her gorgeous curves. He could see right off the bat just how she’d been able to snag so many husbands back in her heyday, all those years ago. Even now, her breasts were large but not saggy, and her waist was thin while her hips were wide.
 
She clearly had Italian blood in her, because the witch had an olive skin that reminded Harry of her son, who he’d gone to school with. But of course, Blaise Zabini had been caught on the wrong side of the law and was currently luxuriating in a prison. Not that Sofia seemed to blame Harry for that, if the wide smile on her face as soon as she saw him was any indication.
 
“Head Auror Potter! To what do I owe this pleasure?”
 
Though he very much did check Sofia Zabini out when she first opened the door, Harry shows none of his other thoughts on his face, remaining entirely professional as he clears his throat and stares the beautiful woman down.
 
“Miss Zabini. May I ask what you’re doing here?”
 
Blinking, Sofia glances back into the home, and then around them.
 
“Well… I live here, of course! When dear Ferdanand past a while back, we hadn’t quite reached the point where we’d married, but he still left me his home in his will. Such a good man, Ferdanand… I miss him so much.”
 
That was interesting, but Harry had read the file of this witch, and he knew all of the efforts that investigators before him had taken to try and catch her. Not even Mad-Eye Moody had been able to figure out how she did it. She was just too good at covering her tracks. Unlike her son, but that was neither here nor there. Regardless, as sure as Harry was that the beautiful Italian witch before him had killed the home’s previous owner, that wasn’t why he was here.
 
“I’m going to have to ask you to step aside, Miss Zabini. We’ve received a tip that there might be dark arts contraband somewhere in this home, and under the new laws, you and I both know that I’m obligated to take each tip seriously, while you’re obligated to let me search the premise.”
 
Personally, Harry wasn’t so sure about those laws. It was clearly getting a little… vengeful these days, and he was half expecting a new Dark Lord or Dark Lady to crop up again soon for the disenfranchised so-called ‘Dark Families’ to gather around and try to take back power through. But at the same time, he couldn’t be bothered to defend a bunch of folks who’d altogether tried to kill him and his friends more times than he could count.
 
Regardless, if Sofia is bothered by his words, she doesn’t show it. Instead, the olive-skinned witch lets out a soft gasp, even as she steps aside to give him room to enter.
 
“Dark Arts contraband? Well, I don’t know anything about that! But please, come in and do what you must! If there’s any of that here… well, I would hate to think that my Ferdanand would be involved in such things… still, I wouldn’t want those sorts of objects in any home I was living in, so please be thorough in your check!”
 
Harry doesn’t believe her act for a second, but he enters all the same, knowing why she’s trying to pull it. After all, if he DOES find any dark artifacts, she can indeed be held responsible, especially if the deed to the mansion is now in her name. He wonders if inwardly, Miss Zabini is panicking at all, and as he steps inside and looks around the clean but still rather gloomy interior of the mansion, Harry thinks he might just be able to have some fun with the olive-skinned MILF before he leaves. She’s a fair bit older than him at this point, but much like Narcissa, who she shares a generation with, the witch’s internal magic has kept her in the prime of her life. It’ll be another couple of decades before she starts really aging.
 
“Please, allow me to show you around? Unless you’d rather conduct the search yourself?”
 
Looking over at Sofia, Harry cocks his head to the side at that, before eventually smiling and gesturing forward.
 
“Lead the way, Miss Zabini.”
 
He’s curious to see what she’ll show him, where she’ll take him. At the end of the day, if there are dark objects here, he can locate them within a second by just using his magic, though obviously she doesn’t know that. Most wouldn’t be capable of overwhelming an ancient house’s wards in order to do what he could do, but Harry wasn’t your average wizard, not by a long shot.
 
Regardless, Sofia begins leading him through the mansion, playing the gracious host as she gives him a tour of the inside premises. They walk along, going through the kitchen, a couple of parlors, and even all the way up to the attic. All the while, Sofia is talking and Harry is listening, but most of his attention is on the woman’s tight, fit body. She really is in remarkable shape, even for a witch. Narcissa couldn’t possibly hold a candle to Sofia Zabini’s looks, though Harry wasn’t going to tell her that. Or perhaps he would, just to see how the Lady Malfoy would react. Probably with panic, and some enthusiastic attempts to make him see how devoted she was to him.
 
That should be fairly amusing. But for now…
 
“Hm, perhaps we should check in the basement next? I suppose if there were to be a hidden stash of dark arts contraband, it might be hidden beneath the earth, right? As I understand it, the magically rich soil makes for a great natural shield against most forms of detection magic.”
 
Harry lifts an eyebrow as Sofia shows off more of her intelligence in that one statement than she has in the last half hour of leading him through the mansion. She’d been acting the fool up until now, and he wasn’t sure why she was letting her mask slip now. Still, the basement would indeed be the next place to look, so he nods in agreement.
 
“Very well, show me the way.”
 
Smiling as sultrily and seductively and coyly as she has been throughout this entire encounter, the scantily clad witch, who has made no effort to get any further dressed than the rather sheer nightie she’s been wearing since she answered the door, leads the way to a spiral staircase that leads downwards. She gestures at the top.
 
“After you, Head Auror. Truth be told, I haven’t ever been down there. I don’t know what might lurk in the darkness.”
 
That’s a lie, but Harry is in a pretty fine mood, especially because he’s quite confident that he can find something to use to turn the Zabini witch into his latest sex pet. So, he doesn’t call her on it, instead merely inclining his head with a smile of his own on his lips as he casts a silent Lumos and leads the way down into the basement with his wand out before him.
 
Sofia follows behind, close behind at that, and for a brief moment, Harry finds himself wondering if she really is a bit worried. Regardless, they make it to the bottom of the stairs, finding themselves in a hallway. Harry continues to lead the way, confident now that they’re finally getting somewhere as he moves towards the door at the end of said hallway. Whatever lies on the other side, he’s going to make sure he finds something ‘dark’ regardless, so that he can properly… persuade Miss Zabini that she needs to fully ‘cooperate’ with him to avoid ending up in a cell right alongside her son.
 
Of course, the moment Harry opens the door and steps inside of the basement room at the end of the corridor, he finds himself distracted from this plan by said room’s contents. After all, he’s not exactly expecting to find what effectively amounts to a cross between a love nest and a sex dungeon. A massive, lush, four-poster canopy bed dominates the far side of the room, while the rest of the large space is positively filled with equipment that Harry recognizes quite well. From metal crosses to pillories to benches and all the gear on the walls that one would need to enjoy said equipment to it’s fullest… yeah, this is a sex dungeon alright.
 
Before Harry can turn to confront the witch behind him about her obvious knowledge of all of this however, there’s a sudden sharp pain to the back of his head. And even Harry Potter, powerful wizard, is susceptible to a blow to the head when it comes to being knocked out. Everything goes black as he’s ambushed from behind and knocked unconscious right then and there.
 
-x-X-x-
 
When he wakes up again, his head is undeniably sore. It takes him a few moments for his vision to stop swimming, takes a few moments for him to properly figure out where he is and what’s going on. Namely, he’s been stripped of his coat and clothing, leaving him buck naked. He’s now tied spread eagle to the large four poster bed in the middle of the sex dungeon-love nest that he’d stumbled upon right before being knocked out.
 
The rope used to tie his limbs is more akin to nylon or silk than hemp, so it doesn’t exactly hurt or anything, unless he pulls too hard. But the knots are very secure, made by a master, and he’s not going anywhere with just his physical strength. Of course, his wand is nowhere to be seen… but that doesn’t mean he’s alone.
 
“Finally awake, are we?”
 
Looking to the side, Harry watches Sofia Zabini as she runs her fingers over the torture implements hanging on the far wall. She’s currently facing away from him, and that view turns out to be pretty damn spectacular. No longer dressed in a sheer nightie, instead it could be said that the woman is wearing dominatrix gear at this point. From thigh high heeled boots connected to a corset by her garter belt, as well as arm length gloves, she looks very much like a sexy seductress, the kind of woman to dominate you, to conquer you, and then spit you back out when she was done with you.
 
Seeming to decide that none of the toys hanging off the wall are things she wants to use quite yet, Sofia comes to the end of the array without picking one, letting her fingers trail off the last, a cat o’ nine tails, before finally turning to regard Harry in his position tied to the bed. Turning around to face him reveals her front, and though he kind of guessed as much from the fully exposed olive-skinned ass that had been presented to his face, now he can confirm she’s not wearing any sort of panties, her well-shaven cunt on full display, and dripping with excitement as well.
 
On top of that, the corset she has on is one that does nothing to cover her breasts. Situated between the underside of her chest and her navel, the corset frames her gorgeous, olive tits beautifully, but that’s all it does, showing off one of the Italian witch’s best features and letting it stand for itself, at the end of the day.
 
Step by step, Sofia approaches Harry and the bed, a wicked smile playing across lips that are now painted as black as her ensemble.
 
“The Great Harry Potter, so easily lured in by little ole me. I suppose I’ve still got it, don’t I Mister Potter?”
 
Still a bit woozy from the blow to the head, Harry growls.
 
“That’s Head Auror to you, Zabini.”
 
She giggles and climbs on the bed, straddling him before he even knows what’s happening.
 
“Oh, come now, I think we can be closer than that. How about I call you Harry… and you call me Mistress…”
 
Eyes flashing with anger, Harry manages to control himself a bit though, applying a savage grin to his face instead as he sneers up at her.
 
“I think ‘dumb bitch’ will be more appropriate, once I’m done fucking those brains out of that pretty little skull of yours.”
 
For a brief moment, Sofia’s eyes widen, and Harry knows he’s touched a nerve. More than that, he’s surprised her. She recovers admirably, and laughs lightly, before bringing up one of her gloved hands, which Harry now sees is not entirely unadorned. On her index finger, there is a claw implement of sorts, beautifully made from the looks of things, and dripping with some semblance or another.
 
She brings it down to his bared chest and rakes it across his pecs, at first gently so she doesn’t break his skin.
 
“You’re a strong one, aren’t you? Harry James Potter, the Man-Who-Won… I should have expected nothing less.”
 
And then she presses down, letting the cross between a claw and a nail sink into his flesh. Immediately, Harry feels the burst of whatever the hell is in the likely hollow nail flowing into him, either a poison or drug that she’s applying directly to his bloodstream. As he grunts, Sofia Zabini’s grin widens and she giggles softly.
 
“Don’t fight it. It’ll just hurt more if you fight it. Just accept. Accept that this is the way things will be. You are mine, Harry Potter. Like all the other men, you belong to me now. I will conquer your body inch by inch, and then I will conquer your mind. You are MINE.”
 
She’s humping at his cock even as she speaks, her pussy lips clinging to the side of his length. It’s impossible not to react to that, and he’s certainly growing erect under her grinding. Taking this as some sort of sign she’s winning, Sofia reaches up and firmly grasps at his neck, leaning in to capture his lips with her own. Harry can immediately tell that the black lipstick she’s wearing is another drug, likely a hallucinogenic, but he doesn’t know exactly which one. All he knows is his head is swimming again, and not in the same way it had before, from pain. No… this is distinctly pleasure.
 
When they eventually pull apart, Sofia drawing back while still nibbling at his lower lip, Harry looks at her, piercingly.
 
“What… what are you doing to me?”
 
Grinning wickedly, the olive-skinned bombshell of a witch giggles again, causing interesting things to happen to her firm, full breasts in the process.
 
“Oh Harry… dear, dear boy. The better question would be, what WON’T I do to you? We’ve only got a limited amount of time together before they start searching for you after all, so I will have to work fast. Feel free to try to hold back… I love it when a wizard squirms…”
 
And yet, he’s not that focused on her words, despite the rage they ignite deep within him. No, most of Harry’s attention is now turned to the increasingly chaotic feel of his magic. He’s always been strong, always been powerful… he fills the room with his presence, and that’s NOT just a metaphor. But right now? Right now, it’s like his magic is running wild, but at the same time, like both it and his mind are under assault by another source.
 
“My… my magic. What have you done?”
 
Once again, he can tell through the haze falling over his vision that he’s surprised her. It’s harder for Sofia to recover this time, though she still does so within moments, smiling and raking her clawed finger down his chest in another line parallel to the first.
 
“You ARE clever, aren’t you? Oh my, I wasn’t expecting you to get it so fast. No matter, I suppose. The longer we talk, the more my victory is assured, after all. Focus on my voice, Harry. Listen to my words.”
 
He does so, even though it’s obviously what she wants. He focuses on what she’s saying, listening to her explain.
 
“I’ve drugged you, of course. It’s a special concoction I’ve made. Not even really a poison, which is why no one ever thinks to look for it. Mm, but what it does… it helps me do what I do. Your magic is running wild, Harry. Sure, I’ve already removed your wand from the equation, but wizards have a tendency to react with wandless magic, either consciously or subconsciously. But with my special concoction running through your veins, you can’t even do that much. You’re helpless… but don’t worry. Mistress is going to make EVERYTHING better.”
 
As she speaks, Harry realizes that she’s right… but also so, so wrong. His magic IS running wild, and at the same time, he recognizes now that she’s pushing on him with her own magic. Where his magic is an ocean of power currently storming and swirling any which way it pleases, hers is a needle, the knife-bow of a ship, cutting through that ocean, heading towards his heart… no, his soul.
 
She means to bind him to her, and suddenly, Harry knows just how she did it with the other men. Soul magic is a forbidden thing, of course, but it’s even MORE forbidden than most other dark arts. Where the Unforgivables weren’t actually outlawed until 1717, soul magic had been banned from polite, civilized society since the fourteen hundreds.
 
As a result, however, most knowledge of it had been lost. The last time Harry had encountered it had been with Voldemort and his followers, but even the Dark Marks had been rudimentary at best, brute-forced shackles that Voldemort had simply pushed onto those who served him by using his titanic inner magic pool to make his will a reality.
 
What Sofia Zabini was doing was far more nuanced, and the kind of technique that really shouldn’t have existed any longer. She was performing magic on him that no one had had to deal with in centuries. No wonder the poor wizards she’d ensorcelled had been unable to resist her wiles, if she was backed up by this sort of ability.
 
And yet, at the same time… she’d made a mistake. Because yes, Harry’s magic was now all over the place, filling the room, doing whatever it wanted… but it already did that on the regular. His power was such that the wizard had never been in total control, and ever since defeating Voldemort and becoming the proper owner of all three Deathly Hallows, things had not been anywhere near normal for Harry James Potter.
 
As Sofia leans in to kiss him again, driving her magic towards his soul to begin claiming it as her own, even as she makes a big show of trying to dominate his body to distract him from what she’s really doing… Harry doesn’t fall for it. Rather, instead of bothering with the physical, he focuses on the metaphysical. His arms and legs remain bound, but his magic? His magic has never been more FREE.
 
Their eyes meet and Harry gets to watch Sofia’s go wide as she feels him reach out and grab hold of her magic, even as it knifes towards his soul. She pulls away from his mouth physically, planting her hands on his chest, but then her spine goes rigid, and her eyes stare straight forward. She still has enough control to move her lips of course, but that’s about all as her body trembles.
 
“W-What? What are you doing?! S-Stop that! You can’t possibly… this isn’t supposed to happen!”
 
It starts with a low chuckle, burbling out of his throat. With a titanic force of effort, the Italian witch currently straddling him manages to lower her eyes enough to look down at him. She still can’t move her head, can’t move her neck or the rest of her body, but she’s able to do that much at least. Harry, meanwhile, just smiles as his wild, untamed magic unravels the nylons around his wrists and ankles with barely a thought, freeing him to reach up and grab hold of Sofia’s frozen body by the waist.
 
He pulls her up slightly, until her clenching, squeezing pussy lips are no longer grinding along the slide of his length, but instead kissing his bulbous cockhead directly. He fits the tip of his member inside of Sofia Zabini, staring her in the eye the entire time.
 
“You dumb bitch.”
 
And then he impales her on his member. At the same time, on the metaphysical, Harry has fully turned the out-of-her-depth witch’s own tactics against her. With his sizable cock buried inside of her clenching cunt without her permission and without her planning for it to happen in that moment, the Zabini witch is not at all prepared for him to not only completely stop the advance of her magic on his soul, but effectively turn her magic around and frog march it back the way it came.
 
If Sofia’s attempt to bind him was a knife strike at his very being, Harry’s is like a tidal wave coming in to destroy the coastal region that makes up her entire psyche. Much like Voldemort, he does not truly understand soul magic. But with an excellent lesson in how to wield his magic against one’s soul just handed to him by a master at it, Harry has no problem at all overwhelming Sofia’s magic and crashing down on her very sense of self with all his untamed might.
 
Rather than make him powerless, her drugs have only unleashed that which he’d been holding back for so damn long. Of course, that doesn’t mean he ignores the physical side of things, not even for a moment. While Harry’s magic is making short work of the overconfident, proud witch’s soul, he’s still fucking her in the real world as well, bouncing her frozen, trembling bombshell of a bod up and down on his cock without pause and without mercy.
 
Her olive-skinned breasts bounce and jiggle with every jarring thrust up into her cunt, and her mouth is open in a continuous moan now, words failing her for more than one reason. He’s inside of her in multiple ways at this point, inside of her cunt, inside of her soul, inside of her damn mind. Harry grins viciously, ferally even as he slides his hands from the would-be dominatrix’s waist to her breasts, sliding his fingers right over her black corset and then latching onto her gorgeous, perfect tits with both hands, squeezing down HARD and eliciting a cry that’s half-pleasure, half-pain from the beleaguered witch.
 
“W-Wait… oooh, please, p-please wait…”
 
Harry’s a little impressed that she’s still capable of speech at this point. He doesn’t listen to her of course, not for a moment pausing in his physical OR his metaphysical actions, but he does humor her enough with a response at least.
 
“And why should I, dumb bitch?”
 
A whimper exits Sofia’s throat amidst the next round of moans and mewling, and it takes her a moment, as Harry kneads and mauls her breasts, to properly answer him.
 
“I-I overstepped… please, you d-don’t have to do this. I c-can be of use to you as I-I am now…”
 
Harry snorts derisively at that, though he does consider her proposal… for all of half a moment.
 
“No, I don’t think so. Better another worthless cum dump of a cocksleeve then a Black Widow spinning her web around me while trying to convince me she’s on my side.”
 
And with that, Harry goes for the kill. Sofia doesn’t get another chance to speak, because the next thing the Zabini witch knows, she’s being assaulted on all fronts. Harry even pinches and pulls her nipples, causing her perfect breasts to stretch out from her body in an obscene, lewd fashion. At the same time, his cockhead rams against the entrance of her womb with great force, and his magic, the focus of his power… it finally clenches down on her soul, what makes Sofia who she is, and SQUEEZES.
 
The olive-skinned witch cries out and orgasms explosively as if on command, and her eyes roll back in her head, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she shakes and spasms, the body freeze broken by her orgasmic bliss. But Harry isn’t worried about the fact that she can move more than her lips again, not when he has her right where he wants her.
 
He imagines this is what she planned to do to him, albeit more surgically and a lot more slowly. Even still, now that he has complete control over her soul and mind, Harry is none-too-gentle in remaking Sofia Zabini as he wants her to be. The witch was going to pay for trying to entrap him, for trying to come at him and take away his free will. She was going to pay most dearly.
 
A few moments later, and Sofia is faceplanting onto Harry’s chest, panting and mewling as he holds her by the hips, watching her silently. Eventually, she looks up at him, and there’s a properly healthy dose of love, adoration, and devotion in her eyes. Grinning, Harry slides one hand up to her hair, slipping his fingers through her locks and then gripping harshly enough to draw a pained gasp from her pouty black lips.
 
“What are you?”
 
“I-I’m you’re dumb bitch, M-Master…”
 
Harry’s grin widens, and he gives a thrust up into her cunt for good measure that has Sofia moaning like the wanton little slut she now is.
 
“That’s right. You’re my dumb bitch, and don’t you ever fucking forget it.”
 
Then, he flips them both over. He has to pull out for a moment to flip Sofia a second time so she’s on her front, face down on the bed, and then he’s pulling her hips up, her olive-skinned ass looking as delectable and delicious as her gorgeous tits as he slams back into her needy, wet cunt from behind, filling her with his cockmeat.
 
She’s still wearing the dominatrix get-up, from the arm length gloves to the thigh high heeled boots to the garter belt and corset. But she’s nothing but a submissive little cum dump for his cock now, and they both know it. Sofia Zabini knows it to the depths of her very soul, which now rests completely under his control.
 
Still, it’s not good enough. Not by far. This dumb bitch thought she could control him. She thought she could take him and make him her pet. That wasn’t ever going to happen, but it still made Harry absolutely apocalyptic. The fucking audacity… he was going to teach her a lesson she’d never forget. Or perhaps, because he’d wiped her personality clean and made her into a quite literal dumb bitch, she would. But that was okay, because it just meant that he got to teach it to her all over again.
 
“Fucking slut. Stupid whore! Thought you could control ME?! Thought you could own ME?!”
 
As Harry fucks the moaning, mewling Italian witch into the bed beneath him, mounting her and effectively pounding into her from above with one foot on the back of her head and the other planted between her legs, he also gives her a spanking she’ll never forget. His palm comes down on her ass cheeks, one after the other, again and again, turning the olive-skin red slowly but surely, leaving Sofia’s fat bubble butt nice and bright and oh-so-deliciously sensitive as he continues to rail into her, coming down on her cunt like a jackhammer from above, pounding his way through her cervix to take that most sacred physical place from her, now that he’s already conquered her soul.
 
“T-This dumb bitch is sorry, Master! S-So sorry! S-So stupid! Please, Master! P-Punish this dumb bitch! Use this dumb bitch to your heart’s content!”
 
As Sofia squeals these things out beneath him, the older witch completely broken to his will by this point, Harry grins savagely and does exactly that. He fucks her cunt until he slams right through the entrance of her womb and fills that with his girth, Then, just for good measure, he uses his magic to enhance the size of his cock a bit and begins to truly wreck Sofia Zabini’s tight little pussy, as well as her womb. Once he’s done with both, neither will ever be the same again.
 
Her stomach is outright bulging beneath her as he fucks her from above, his cock using her womb as nothing more than a meat condom. Harry thoroughly enjoys every last moment of ravaging Sofia Zabini’s body, turning the older witch into his own personal fuck toy, making her his bitch in every fucking sense of the word.
 
When he finally cums, Sofia slumps forward and just takes his seed into her womb, moaning somewhat in relief as he finally pulls out of her poor cunt, leaving behind a nice thick load of sticky, white-hot cum. That moan of relief is short-lived however, when the very next thing Harry does is shift his messy, but still erect prick up from her quim to between her olive-skinned butt cheeks. Using the same hands that had been spanking them for the better part of half an hour to spread Sofia’s ass cheeks wide, Harry grins when the witch whimpers in fear.
 
But she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t fight back. She belongs to him now, and she knows that to the very depths of her soul. What point would there be in asking him to be gentle, when her very sense of self is wrapped up in HIS happiness. Her own happiness, her pleasure or her pain… neither matter anymore. Not when she has her Master, who MUST be satisfied, who MUST be happy.
 
Harry presses the tip of his cockhead up against the Zabini witch’s tight little sphincter after making sure to clean out her back door with his magic, and then he begins to PUSH. Sofia squeals like a stuck pig as he enters her, and she squirms and kicks a little, but never enough to pull away from him or dislodge his cockhead from her rectum. With a grunt, Harry forces himself even further through, a vicious smile on his face as he does so.
 
He doesn’t say anything else though, doesn’t continue to berate or chastise her. Instead, the wizard focuses entirely on giving Sofia Zabini’s tight little asshole the reaming it deserves. Try to fuck with him? Try to make a play at dominating him? As he pounds into the would-be Dominatrix from above, Harry snarls and speeds up, causing more squeaks and squeals and whimpers to come from the older witch beneath him.
 
After a moment, he also goes back to spanking her fat ass as he fucks it, enjoying the way her olive skin, reddened by his previous blows, continues to jiggle and ripple with each new hit it takes. Not for a moment does Harry consider letting up, and not for a moment does Sofia even try to ask him to. She knows her place now, and she knows where she belongs. Right now, that’s face down, ass up while Harry butt-fucks her harder than any wizard ever has before, more than likely.
 
His railing of Sofia’s asshole is as long as it his deep. He buries every last inch of his cock in her bowels time and time again, stretching her anus just as much as he had her cunt. He ravages and ravishes her, using her like she’s nothing but his own personal cum dump, which is exactly all that she is to him. And when the time comes for Harry to finish off, he pulls out of her back door and gives her his load all over her perfectly round ass and her back, coating the done-up strings of her corset, as well as her exposed shoulder blades and shoulders with his seed.
 
Only once he’s done covering her in his spunk does Harry remove his foot from the back of Sofia’s head. In the midst of stepping off the bed, he reaches down and grabs a fistful of the witch’s dark hair, dragging her off of the large four-poster bed with him, forcing her to her knees in front of him as he turns her face up to look into his eyes.
 
“You’re a dumb bitch, Sofia Zabini. A stupid cunt who should have known well enough to leave me alone. Oh sure, I would have extracted a few things from you, I would have had my fun with you, but you could have gotten away with me never knowing what you were truly capable of. Instead, you couldn’t judge the difference between a predator and the prey, and now you’ve paid for it with your soul. You stupid, stupid whore.”
 
Moaning throatily, Sofia looks up at him with what might as well be hearts in her eyes, need and lust and a desire to make him happy obvious as she licks her black lips, ingesting some of her own hallucinogenic lipstick in the process.
 
“I… I love being a dumb bitch for you, Master. I’m glad I was a stupid whore and drew your ire. I’m so much happier now, being your idiotic little cum dump cocksleeve.”
 
She means it, too. That’s the hilarious part, she means every word. Half-grinning, half-sneering, Harry takes his cock and slaps it down across the Italian witch’s face, enjoying the way she moans and nuzzle at his length as it lays along the bridge of her nose. She squirms beneath him like that for a moment, until finally, Harry guides the head of his massive member right into her open mouth, cutting off a moan as he feeds inch after inch of his prick right past her lips and down the back of her throat.
 
“Take it, cunt. Take all of it.”
 
To her credit, she does exactly that. And at first, when Harry is going at a rather normal, moderate pace, she even does it with some measure of skill. Suppressing her gag reflex by swallowing continuously, Sofia’s eyes brim with desire and an eagerness to serve as they remain fixed on Harry’s face, her black lips suctioned around his cock even as she ends up kissing the base of his member, her nose buried in his crotch.
 
He pauses for a moment, and then pulls back. Then he does it again, but a lot faster this time. And he keeps doing it, until he’s positively skull-fucking the Italian witch, something that not even the best cock sucker could possibly repress her gag reflex during.
 
“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”
 
“That’s right, choke on it bitch. Fucking choke on it.”

And choke on it she does. Harry watches intently as Sofia’s eyes water and her face slowly becomes a mockery of the beautiful features she’d started with. Her mascara and makeup quickly run through as he gags her on his dick, and her gurgling produces plenty of drool and saliva that slide down off of her lower lip, drip off her chin, and make even more of a mess of her olive tits.
 
He doesn’t let up though, not even when she looks like an absolute mess, not even when her eyes are threatening to roll back in her head from lack of air. After all, he knows what Sofia Zabini has done with her life. He knows about all of her previous husbands and knows how they likely met their end. She planned the same for him, undoubtedly, planned to turn him into nothing but a lovesick thrall. Whether she would have had him divorce Ginny so that she could marry him, or instead simply have him give her all of his wealth and use his position to help her in who knew what ways, Harry didn’t know, nor did he care.
 
In the end, it was the fact that she’d even had the audacity to try and make him her thrall that really pissed him off, and for that, she deserved every last bit of this, every last second of pain that was coming for her. Still, he always stops short of fully choking her out, never quite asphyxiating her into unconsciousness as he rails her tight throat.
 
In the end, he cums and watches his seed explode out of her nostrils and the sides of her mouth, making even more of a ruin of her already messed up face as she tries to swallow down all that she can, but inevitably ends up hacking most of it back up, gurgling through the cum now painting her once-black lips white.
 
With a snort, Harry pulls his cock out of Sofia Zabini’s throat. Then, he drags her beleaguered form across the sex dungeon to a nearby piece of bondage furniture, a ‘wooden horse’ that he recognizes. Pulling her up onto it, Harry fits Sofia’s wrists into the chains hanging from the ceiling above, yanking them up over her head. Then, he shackles her ankles to the lower sides of the wooden horse, so that she’s very much secured and not going anywhere.
 
Her pussy lips press into the sharpened edge of the ‘horse’ beneath her, not sharp enough to hurt or injure per say, but certainly enough to cause no end of sensation and discomfort, pain and pleasure mixing together. She can of course grab hold of the chains over her head to pull herself up, and she instinctively does that to alleviate some of the weight currently grinding her pussy down onto the edge beneath her.
 
Harry doesn’t stop her from doing so, he doesn’t tell her he can’t. Because, really, that’s the point of the wooden horse in the end. She’s not going anywhere, and eventually… eventually she’s going to get tired, and not be able to continue holding so much of her weight off of her cunt lips. She’s already pretty exhausted to begin with.
 
Smiling quite evilly, Harry reaches out and grabs Sofia Zabini by the jaw, forcing the would-be Dominatrix to look him in the eye.
 
“Have fun, you dumb bitch. I’ll be back to check on you later. Maybe.”
 
Then, for good measure, with his magic so wild and untamed, Harry shapes a bit of it with his intent. He uses his will to perform a spell that, to the best of his knowledge, has yet to be invented. Regardless, he can feel it taking hold. Sofia will not want for food or water, nor will she need to go to the restroom so long as the magic holds. Hell, she won’t even age. Of course, the enchantment won’t last forever… but it’ll last long enough until he feels like playing with his dumb bitch again.
 
Chuckling darkly, Harry leaves her like that, down in the sex dungeon beneath the gloomy mansion, weaving a few security spells so that from now on, only he can enter or leave the premises. Then, he heads back to work. He might not like it, but he does have a job to do. Still, dealing with Sofia Zabini had been exactly what he needed to take a load off and get his head back in the game.

-x-X-x-

If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out Hentai-Foundry.com and QuestionableQuesting.com where I have over a thousand stories! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.

If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on Patreon.com/Cambrian

Thanks for reading!