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I wrote this this morning on a whim because we need more HP
A Different Kind of Stuffing
To say the last place the golden trio had expected to be was on their knees for an audience with the dark lord would have been a lie. Having been captured during a skirmish in a town on the outskirts of muggle London, they’d expected this moment for quite some time in fact. Lightly bound both physically and magically the dark lord rose to address them.

“Harry Potter and his troupe of a mudblood and blood traitor.” The dark lord sneered. “I shall be up front and honest with you, not one of you will leave this room alive today. Additionally, most assuredly, your death’s will neither be quick nor summary. Rather, a few of my death eaters have requested a few creative outcomes for your timely demise. WORMTAIL!”

“Yes, master?” Pettigrew, slinked in from the shadows.

“I believe we’ll start with you.”

“Of course, thank you master.”

“Have you prepared yourself?”

“Yes, my lord, Bellatrix ensured I got the Gemi-“,

“Tut tut, Wormtail, let them anticipate.”

“…everything correct.”

“Excellent, and so as not to ruin the surprise my dear little sacrificial lambs, let us begin.” With a flourish of his wand Hermione was drug towards the pair of dark wizards, eliciting an uproar of cries and curses from the trio anew. Hermione struggled fiercely, the dark lord’s wand trained on her wearing her down until her struggles were reduced to weak jerks. Finally, she knelt before the pair, exhausted and a feral glare in her eyes. With a hissing laugh the dark lord regarded her, and if not for her obvious inferior lineage, and general do-gooder attitude he might even have seen promise in her.

“Just look at that Wormtail, see that ferocity, she could have been Harry’s own little Bellatrix, don’t you think so?”

“I, uh, yes master, I can see the very faintest of resemblance.”

“Me too, though best keep that little tidbit to ourselves, yes? And prepare yourself wormtail I’m most excited to see the outcome of your devious plan.”

“Yes master.” Wormtail quickly undid his belt and trousers, and then grabbed Hermione’s jaw harshly trying to open her mouth.

“Fuck you, you bloody cretin. Get your hands off of me!” Hermione renewed her struggles.

“A little assistance Wormtail?” With a little jolt of Voldemort’s wand Hermione’s mouth openly obscenely wide. “Better? Oh, just a moment.” Another twist of his wand and her tongue lolled out of her head saliva already forming a drip from the tip.

With a sigh Wormtail stood up and fished out his putrid cock. Hermione’s eyes went wide fully anticipating the next series of events. “No worries, my precious pretty Hermione.” Pettigrew coo’ed.


“It’s not what you think, I’m not going to skull fuck you to death my dear. In fact, my cock won’t even touch your foul mudblood tongue, my pretty Hermione.” With as much a look of relief and confusion as she could muster with her face contorted into the spitting image of a teen pornstar ready receive her reward for a hard day’s work.

Pettigrew worked over his cock, jerking feverishly in an attempt to complete his task. A whimper and whine elicited from his mouth as he struggled to do the deed.

“Peter, it would seem you are having an issue yes? Let me see if I can aid you here.”

A few more wand movements and Hermione’s clothes were torn and shred from her body, now kneeling naked and exposed the tears began to roll down Hermione’s face. Unable to hold himself back, Wormtail shuffled forward, the head of his cock nearly touching Hermione’s hot, dripping mouth. Hermione could finally smell the musk of Wormtail’s cock and her eyes rolled back in a head as he shot his magical cum down the back of her helpless throat. Her revulsion tinged with a primitive, and animal instinct to respond in kind to the arousal of the man in front of her. Pettigrew shuffled back with a shudder and a sigh.

“Excellent Wormtail, now the entertainment can begin.” It was with a swirl of the dark lord’s wand that Hermione’s tongue recoiled back into her mouth and her mouth snapped shut, her chin raised up several inches and with a final helpless gulp, the slimy cum slid down her gullet and into her stomach. The dark lord turned on the spot and his robes billowed as he made his way back to his high-backed chair to sit down for the show, and other poke of his wand and Hermione felt the weight of his magic lifted off, and she finally relaxed from her constant strain against her bonds

The trio knelt there in silence, Hermione naked as the day she was born shivering and panting. Her panting slowly increased, and a groan and whimper finally escaped her tired throat.

“Have you figured it out my dear?” The dark lord probed.

“Fuck you!” Hermione spat, eliciting another pant and groan.

“I’ll give you one small hint, and then one big one, how about that?” The dark lord teased.

Hermione glared at him, her breasts slowly heaving now.

“Hint one little mudblood, you’re very familiar with this particular curse.”

Hermione glared further, before a feral groan was ripped from her body.

“No, not good enough, you’re bright aren’t you, shouldn’t you be able put two and two together?”

Another wave of pain swam through her guts, and it dawned on her.

“You fucking monster! That’s how you’ll kill me, I knew you were insane, and true evil, but that’s too cruel!” Hermione began to sob.

“Hermione, what’s happening!? Tell us what’s wrong.” Harry called out from his spot kneeling in the back.


Hermione’s chest heaved, the uncontrollable sobbing interspersed with her groans, now a constant refrain in the room.

“It’s….it’s….th..the….ge….gemino…cur..curse.” Hermione, ground out.

“25 points to Gryffindor!” The dark lord jeered.

Hermione seemed to internally struggle form a moment, before yelling out a loud feral cry. Harry and Ron had center isle seats when the first batch of cum spurted out of Hermione’s clenched and straining asshole. Hermione struggled to hold it in, if only for her modesty. An odd irrational thought she internalized as she was butt naked and going to die. As the curse progressed, the ever exponential amount of cum began to increase in volume. First it was painful spurts, then a slow running stream oozing from her ass. Before near the end a powerful torrent of cum erupted from her arse.

“Master, why has she not…exploded?”

“Ah, dear wormtail, you see, her body can only hold so much of your, ehm. Her anal ring is essentially broken now, and much like a water balloon that isn’t tied shut, it naturally wants to squeeze the contents out.”

A near constant groan could be heard from Hermione as she lay on her side, her belly somewhat swollen with the forever duplicating cum.

“We can remedy that though wormtail.” And the dark lord conjured an impossibly large but plug, perhaps 10, maybe 12 inches wide. Through her tears and delirious pain, Hermione saw what was going to happen, and a feral fear she did not know she possessed ran through her. With a grin the dark lord vanished the huge pool of cum that had gathered in the room, including some of what’d been inside her.

It was only temporary relief for our female heroine, the constant pain of being forever filled with slimy liquid, quickly and unceremoniously replace with the sharp thrust of the gargantuan butt plug being magically rammed up her broken ass. The problem with magic, is that it doesn’t give a damn how things like, won’t fit, or that hurts, and therefore a blood curdling scream rained from the walls of the room as a plug too large for anything inserted itself up Hermione’s now looser ass.

“As a little bit of extra flair Wormtail, you see how her hips are rolled forward now? In addition to tearing her anal ring to shreds, it’s broken her hips, you tell when you see how her feet are pointed inwards now.”

“Yes master, that is truly cruel.”

Hermione cried through the new pain of having her hips broken, her temporary respite from the torrent of cum neither temporary, nor a respite. It was sooner than she’d hoped when she felt the pressure in her guts grow. Her belly grew painfully, slightly larger than before, a few more sobs racked her body, the effect of her shuddering sobs reverberated in her now broken hips. It was with little fanfare the first vomit of cum was pushed out of her body. She lay face down, her torso slightly raised by her bloated guts, her arms hauling her head and shoulders up off the cold floor to relieve the pressure since she could not stand to lay on her broken hips. The second vomit of cum was more ceremonial, a hiccup, cough, and a wheezy groan before the splash of cum spilled from her unwilling mouth. Hermione’s tears ran freely between the pain, vomiting and coming to terms with her impending death.


(4/4) (forgot my numbers)
Hermione’s vomiting of cum came more frequently, barely enough time to catch her breath between heaves. Somewhere along the way a rocket of cum-vomit shot uncontrollably out of mouth, and nose. The effect was immediate and it was with a final breath she could finally understand the last thing she would taste and smell was the pungent sour cum of Peter Pettigrew.

The cum duplication rate was now too great for Hermione to catch her breath between vomiting. It was moments after she inhaled a huge amount of cum that her lungs filled with the same cum pouring out of her only orifice with which to escape. The initial burning pain that filled her lungs was only a faint discomfort in the grand scheme of her death. She realized soon after, that drowning in cum was rather humiliating, and that to her logical brain she came to terms that suffocating, while painful was actually a rather slow death. She felt the cum pouring out of her mouth and nose freely like a waterfall, could hear Harry and Ron’s pleading as she slowly began to fade out. The last thing she saw was the disappointed face of Wormtail, and his last words.

“Master, I really thought she’d have exploded.”

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