"Ah... no... don't..." Harley's moans were both pleasurable and shameful, the thought of being raped in public on a busy street overwhelming her.
"Tsk tsk! You're not a virgin anymore, but your little slut hole is still so tight!" Mokin groaned in satisfaction as his cock was squeezed by her tight muscles. His hands didn't rest, one massaging her clitoris while the other gripped her breast, pinching her nipple.
"Ah... no... I'm going to..." Overwhelmed by the dual stimulation, Harley climaxed instantly. But Mokin only sped up, his violent thrusts making her breasts bounce violently.
"I can't... ah... spare me... sob..." Even after her climax, waves of pleasure continued to assault her, leaving her sobbing and begging for mercy.
When Mr. Malkin finally released thick, scalding semen into Harley's body, she erupted into another wave of wanton cries.
"It's time to get you fitted for clothes," Mr. Malkin said after tidying himself up. He set Harley down, her lower half a mess of wetness and semen. He raised an eyebrow at the sight, then pointed his wand at her entrance. A powerful jet of water shot out.
"Ah..." The force of the water against her sensitive opening sent shivers through Harley's limp body.
Hogwarts' uniform for boys consisted of long trousers, a shirt, and a tie, while girls wore pleated skirts. Both genders wore open-fronted wizard robes resembling long cloaks.
However, the skirt Mr. Malkin made for Harley was so short it barely covered her buttocks, easily exposing her with any movement. He also made her numerous nearly transparent lingerie and nightgowns, all with pitifully scant fabric.
Mr. Malkin promised Harley a lifetime of free custom clothing and gifted her a magical measuring tape that automatically took her dimensions. This way, she could order new clothes at any time while at school, since her ultra-short skirt would quickly become too small as she continued to grow.
Mr. Malkin restricted Harley's mail-order purchases to school days, accepting only in-store custom orders during holidays.
Of course, if not for the fact that this was the only store selling school uniforms, Harley would never have returned. But the magical photographs Mr. Malkin took while forcing her to try on every piece of seductive underwear kept her obedient.
Dragging Mr. Malkin's magically expanding suitcase, Harley finally finished her shopping and boarded the train home. Unfortunately, she encountered perverts on the way, and upon returning home to face the furious Dursleys, her fate was predictable.
…
Before arriving at Ollivander's wand shop, Harley was both excited and eager to finally have her own wand.
Standing before the small, dilapidated storefront, she felt a slight disappointment, yet her joy at finally obtaining her wand remained undimmed.
As she entered, a series of tinkling bells echoed from somewhere within the shop. Apart from a counter, the interior consisted of tall shelves crammed with thousands of narrow paper boxes piled to the ceiling.
"Good afternoon," a soft voice said, startling Harley.
An old man stood before them, his pale, luminous eyes gleaming like twin moons in the dim shop.
"Hello," Harley said, her voice cautious.
"Oh, yes," the old man said, "yes, yes, I knew I would see you soon, Harley Potter. This isn't a problem at all. You look just like your mother. It's as if it were yesterday when she came here to buy her first wand—a ten-and-a-quarter-inch willow wand, with a swish that whistles through the air, perfect for casting spells."
Mr. Ollivander approached Harley. She hoped he would blink; his silvery eyes sent shivers down her spine.
"Your father was different, though. He preferred a cherry wand—eleven inches long, flexible, and more powerful, ideal for Transfiguration. I said your father liked it, but of course, it's the wand that chooses the wizard."
Mr. Ollivander leaned closer, his nose almost touching Harley's face. She could see her own reflection in his cloudy eyes.
"So it's that lineage after all? The Potter family... I never thought I'd see this..." Ollivander murmured to himself, his words barely audible to Harley.
"Try these wands!" Ollivander brought over a pile of wand boxes. Seeing him empty an entire shelf of wands, Harley felt a wave of dizziness at the thought of testing each one.
Harley reached out her right hand to take the wand Ollivander offered, but he shook his head and withdrew it.
"No, no, child. Your test will be different from others." Ollivander led her to the counter and had her sit down. Harley blushed, hastily covering her nearly transparent lace underwear.
"Take this off first." Ollivander, ignoring Harley's protests, yanked off her freshly changed underwear.
"What's the matter with you?!" Harley exclaimed. Even though she wasn't well-versed in the ways of the magical world, surely buying a wand didn't require stripping!
"Child, the wand's affinity is crucial. Try this one first—a nine-inch beech wand with snake core. Quite flexible." Ollivander took the thicker end of the wand and thrust it into Harley's intimate area.
"Ah... don't do that... mmh..." Harley moaned as Ollivander rotated the wand inside her.
The handle, with its uneven, ridged surface, rubbed against her tender folds.
"Not this one," Ollivander said, withdrawing the wand and replacing it with another.
"Maple wood, phoenix feather core, seven inches long, quite flexible. Try this..." He inserted the wand, even bending it to demonstrate its elasticity. The wand vibrated rapidly within Harley's sensitive depths, eliciting a series of wanton cries.
"No, no... try this one instead. Made of sandalwood and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches long, exceptionally thick and rigid. Come on, give this one a go."
Harley tried wand after wand. She had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was looking for. The discarded wands piled higher and higher on the bench, yet the more wands he pulled from the shelves, the more delighted he seemed.
Harley's arousal pooled between her legs, dripping onto the floor. Waves of pleasure crashed over her as her pussy was violated by every imaginable shape and size of wand.
She'd tried every kind of wand: thick ones, thin ones, long ones, short ones, flexible ones, rigid ones, even crooked ones. She'd lost count of how many she'd tried.
"A discerning customer, aren't you? Never fear, we'll find the perfect match for you—the ideal, the flawless, the most suitable. Ah, here it is! An extraordinary pair: holly wood, phoenix feather core, and... a specially crafted adhesive. Eleven inches long. Excellent, and remarkably pliable."
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