Death Stone ch.11 epilog

For a full thirty seconds, she stares at him, her eyes overflowing with adoration. Gabrielle and Zara continue stroking him, and Harry does everything he can not to climax. No soul dares to interrupt Fleur or ask her to speed up her explanations. Everyone knows their place.

Finally, Fleur continues.

"My beloved, perfect, amazing man can make any change in reality that we know. He has a wish stone. I have to admit, I’m a little dizzy about it, but I’m pretty sure he is the reason we are all here now. Right, darling?" Harry nods.

"So you made sure I’ve been fabulously wealthy my whole life? Ensured that I have only wealth, glamor, and your adoration filling my mind throughout my existence, which led me to use all my power and influence to ensure that the women here today are as gloriously sexy and submissive as possible?" Fleur asked.

Harry nodded again.

"See? Thanks to him, I am the richest person in the world and the most beautiful," Fleur declared.

"You were already the most beautiful," Harry corrected her. "But now you’ll always be."

"Oh, yes. That. Have you noticed that I don’t age? How I look exactly the same as when I was eighteen? Isn’t it wonderful? I don’t have to worry about aging, gaining weight, wrinkles, sagging, stretch marks, or any of those plebeian things. I am simply better, all the time. And it’s all thanks to my beloved husband," Fleur explained, her voice filled with pride.

A chorus of excited whispers fills the room. Every woman stares at Harry with wet adoration and need.

"And he can change more. So much more. And he loves it when I suggest different things," Fleur adds with a mischievous smile.

Oh fuck. It’s coming. Harry tries to silence Fleur, but Gabrielle slides onto his lap and takes his cock into her mouth. Zara, jealous but eager to cooperate, helps by pumping Gabrielle’s mouth up and down with her hand.

"There are so many possibilities. For example, wouldn’t it be amazing if every girl here was a princess or a queen, darling?" Fleur suggests. "Each of them could have a specific theme, right? One could have a little regency where she does nothing but govern ruby trade, another emeralds, and another sapphires..." She guides Gabrielle’s head with her fingers, even though Gabrielle is already doing a fantastic job. "...Of course, they’d all pay me a tribute of seventy percent of their profits and gems, but that would still leave them as billionaire queens, right?"

It’s hard to speak. It’s so infuriating. Am I not the one in charge here? Do I care?

"And what if," Fleur says excitedly, "each of you came up here and made a little suggestion to your new Master? He will grant your wishes, I promise. All you need to do is arouse him. He loves it when girls love themselves and their beauty, just like me... and, of course, he loves me."

"Ma'am," Zara raises her hand. "May I go first?" Fleur claps her hands excitedly. "Of course! My favorite blonde. Please. Show the rest how it’s done."

All the girls look at her with jealousy. This is starting to feel like a setup, like Zara and Fleur have planned this all along. But... it’s just one wish, right? How bad could it be?

Zara leans over the table in front of Harry, lowering her dress so he can examine the exquisite shapes of her legs and ass. Her pussy, adorned with luxurious black lace panties, is wet.

"I want this," she looks at him. "I want your cock... I want your power. I want wealth. Please... I want you to give me more... I know I’m pretty enough to deserve it, right?"

Harry’s thoughts are thick. Fleur whispers something in his ear he can’t understand. He thinks Gabrielle has become too good at sucking cock.

"What?" He tries to collect himself.

The remaining cheerleaders gather around the table to watch, all on their hands and knees. He moans. The entire conference room is awash with the pheromones of submissive pussy.

"And what if your semen were addictive, my king?" Zara says. "I would love for that to be true."

Harry Potter stands, trying to focus. Instead, he thrusts Gabrielle’s head into Zara’s hot, exposed rear, groping it and tearing off her panties. Zara’s tits hit the table, smashing against it in a perfect way. He stops trying to maintain control.

"Yes, yes," she nods. "I’d like that too."

Gabrielle, on her knees, suddenly sucks harder. More urgently. More passionately. Fleur, beside him, rubs her pussy against him more insistently.

Where did his clothes go? He was wearing a suit. Now it’s just naked muscle. Zara is so fucking hot. He doesn’t care.

"Oh, here’s one," Zara says. "Master, what if your semen changed us? Made us hotter, younger, and tighter for you all the time? So that no matter what, we always became sexier for you? I would love that."

His cock already makes women perfectly fit for him, but this suggestion goes beyond that, improving their beauty as well.

Grunting, precum sprays everywhere, and he pushes Gabrielle off his cock and slides into Zara’s waiting, hot body. She is so tiny and flexible, turning and kissing him desperately as he leans over her, guiding his hands to run over her thick, milky tits.

"I’d like that too," he groans. "Yes. Yes."

Wasn’t this supposed to be just one wish? But he hasn’t stopped fucking Zara yet. Why would she stop asking for wishes?

"Your empress," Fleur whispers in his ear. "Remember what I said about the gemstones. Your Empress of Emeralds. And Rubies. And Sapphires. And she always was. I’d like Zara to be that. She fits so perfectly."

Her pussy is so incredibly tight it takes his breath away. What the fuck do they do in Sweden? Good God.

"But... you... Gabrielle..."

"Your goddess?" Fleur purrs. "Your High Priestess? I think we are secure in our positions. I’d just like Zara to be the empress of all Rare Gems, like we discussed."

Didn’t she say the responsibility would be shared? Zara wraps her legs around him, pulls him closer, screaming with pleasure. He is blowing her mind with one orgasm after another. The cheerleaders around her, appropriately, cheer her on.

Oh fuck.

"I want that too."

Immediately, Zara is adorned with jewelry. She wears a small ruby chain around her waist. Her blonde hair is longer, with a mesh of sapphires highlighting the gold underneath. Droplets of emeralds appear on her neck, adorning her collarbones and cleavage.

"What if," Zara moans, orgasming again, her azure eyes wild and delirious, "you were the only man? The only masculine man, I mean. What if all future generations came exclusively from your seed?"

Fleur revels in the idea. "Oh my God. Yes. Everyone completely dependent on you and only you. We could sell your semen for millions of dollars per vial. Only the wealthiest could afford it..." she smiles, crushing, kissing, and moaning. "And only beautiful women will be rich in our world. Won’t that be incredible?"

Harry Potter has just become a wish pump for Fleur and Zara; he doesn’t care. Every wish they utter to him further solidifies her twisted view of what the world should be like, and it is so profoundly wrong that it should make him nauseous. Instead, he is simply lost in the way she looks at him, dreamy, like a love-struck teenager with the deepest affection in the world, while he is fucking a woman who isn’t her.

She loves that he’s fucking Zara, loves that he’s spreading his seed among other fertile women, loves that her man is so masculine and strong that he takes whoever he wants.

And she loves—absolutely loves—that she gets the first seed and can dictate the terms of his harem.

“I want that too.”

As he comes explosively, he grips Zara’s hips tightly. Gabrielle and Fleur, clutching him hard, climax together under his pressure and strength. The entire room of beautiful women feels as if they are melting into him, coming as he does, all moaning and gasping in orgasmic bliss at the fact that his seed is spilling into a fertile womb. For several minutes, they all just press into each other, a pile of beautiful, perfectly designed bodies. The entire harem leans over him, wanting him, whispering.

Master... You are the one... You are the King... We love you... We have always loved you...

And through it all, he holds Fleur and Gabrielle, his two best girls, letting their soft lips on his skin calm his heartbeat and bring him back to something resembling reality.

He has just bankrupted humanity’s sperm bank; holy hell. He can’t imagine this being a good thing. Maybe he should undo it? Maybe he should...

“I’m so lucky to be the wife of the only true man in the entire world,” says Fleur, kissing his chin.

“The only one,” says Gabrielle, kissing her sis, even as she kisses his chest and neck. “We are so lucky.”

What was he thinking?

Zara turns, moaning, wrapping her legs around him once more. She’s apparently ready to take him again, to demand more of his seed for herself, thereby denying others the same privilege. The sweaty flush of her skin attracts him; he immediately feels the urge to give her what she wants.

“What if you were even more powerful,” purrs Fleur, stroking his cock just above Zara’s pussy. “Think about it, darling. Think about how much we—”

An incredible flash of light and the sound of thunder—a blast in the conference room echoes throughout the office. Several windows shatter. The walls crack.

The entire world was covered in atomic mushroom clouds, initiated by a suicidal attack on the so-called rulers of the world. It was a time of fire and death, ending the long-delayed retribution of death upon mortals.