Death Stone ch.7

“I was a bad, bad woman, Harry.” Her movements up and down his cock were perfect; she had total control over the muscles of her hips and thighs. “And you made me worse. I loved the power I had before, but it was nothing compared to what you can give me now. I want to be better than everyone.”

One of the many wishes she asked for last night - to enhance their love, power, prosperity, and bond, driven by her soul. She said that although she knew Bill was a worthless larva who was never worth her time (ugh), she still felt a little bad about ruining the lives of the cheerleaders on her team.

Now it was over. Now she knew, just as he did, that they were rebuilding their lives.

“And it’s like you wanted that.” Her pace quickened. He felt her pussy tremble around his cock, so ready for his cum. “You want me to be bad. You want to punish the little people for ever standing in our way. You want me to push you. You want me to beg you for everything. Right?”

“Yes,” Gabrielle moaned. She was still on her knees. “Everything, sis. She deserves everything…”

“Fuck,” Harry groaned. “Fuck, yes. Yes, of course, but…”

“You know I’m loyal to you forever. That I crave only you. That I’m obsessed with you, just as you’ve been obsessed with me for so long…”

“Damn. Damn. Yes.”

“And if you were the only man I’ve ever been with? I think I still had to be with Bill, otherwise, you wouldn’t have met me, but what if I never…”

“I wish you never fucked Bill, not once, nor any other man.”

The price, with no other source available, was Gabrielle’s soul. Harry Potter didn’t care much – better that she was as amoral as her sis and just like him.

Fleur’s eyes widened, and her gaze turned into even greater longing and desire for him. She came hard. But she still fucked him, crushing up and down, rubbing her tits against his face. Hot milk leaked from them. She was so fertile.

“And what if,” she murmured, “you didn’t like me being rich? You mentioned that yesterday. Rich but not wealthy. You were right. And what if I was born with billions? What if I was showered with wealth and privilege from birth, only to give it all to you because of how much I adore you?”

She knew how to talk to him. It was so easy for her to seduce him. And she knew he would give her as much fortune as she wanted - and infinitely more, because his obsession with her was similarly infinite.

Harry was so devoted to not messing with reality more than he already had. He thought about cheerleaders falling for him from the moment they saw him, igniting in them a hot feeling of desire and infatuation. But Fleur, riding him, encouraged him to have more and more - because the more he had, the more she had.
And Merlin, it turned him on. He came inside her, hotly spurting into her perfect body, unable to hold back. "I’d want that too. Hasn't it already worked?" she asked, climaxing along with him.

She pulled his head back to her magnificent breasts. He drooled, continuing to cum inside her helplessly, but he stayed hard. Even covered by a half-open blouse and scanty lace lingerie, they were still warm and hypnotizing.

“We’d have to make sure that I was still around for you to find me here, so I’d still need to be a cheerleader and Bill’s wife, right? So nothing gets overwritten.”

Her pussy squeezed perfectly as she slid onto his cock. He groaned in affirmation.

“And we need to make sure that if anyone chases us or notices something strange, we can use the world’s systems to protect us.” She giggled. “And I really want to have lots of pretty things to wear for you…”

She was obsessed with herself and ensuring their safety, securing the safety of their love. Hot streams of cum shot from his cock again, and all he could do was hold off from cumming together with her. But he was too fascinated by what she had to say.

“Very well,” replied Harry Potter, his voice taking on a kind of trance-like, lyrical tone as if he were seeing God. “I’d want to be the heiress to the world’s largest mining conglomerate, owning ninety percent of the world’s gem and metal resources. I’d want my wealth to have controlling stakes in the world’s largest banks and media companies. And I’d want to be obsessed with cultivating the perfect harem of cheerleaders for the man of my dreams, who is, of course, you, so I could lead them. And I wish that to protect this dream of providing you with a harem that would mock the inferior plebeians of the world, I used my wealth throughout my life to punish any threats to my estate – funding public education, aggressively financing security firms and police forces, and disinformation think tanks, bribing politicians and bureaucrats, all those hot things related to leverage and power – and I married Bill only for his public position to further expose me to the public, because I knew one day my true love, you, my only love, would find me. And naturally, I recruited only ultra-hot, prestigious women from around the world as potential harem members in my incredibly exclusive, world-renowned, trend-setting fashion cheerleading team. I’d want us to be the Beatles of cheerleading, but ten thousand times more popular, like supermodels who were both pop stars and quasi-religious messianic figures.”

Fleur, squeezing him tightly, had complete control over him through her words, thoughts, passion for power and wealth, and her exquisitely tight pussy. But above all, her eyes, gazing at him obsessively, were filled with an impossible love spanning a million years.

“I’d want that too,” he said.

And he came inside her harder than he thought possible, making her climax with him.

Usually, it ended there.

Mostly. I mean, was he a priest?

Oh, that reminded him, he’d probably want a name for the official religion he would inevitably form around the cult of his cock. He couldn’t imagine Fleur being able to endure very long in a world where there weren’t churches dedicated entirely to the glory of his manhood on every corner.

Anyway, on the way from the parking lot, he shaved a few years off some sucker living in a van to officially deal with the paperwork and finalize that both Fleur and Gabrielle were his wives. He materialized engagement and wedding rings for them – thick, diamond-studded stones that effortlessly matched the rest of the significant jewelry they always wore. He didn’t think Fleur’s long, perfect fingers had ever been without at least five rings.

This wish reversed the legality of polygamy in very selected cases. At Fleur’s prompting, he also ensured that their marriage meant her estate and wealth now primarily belonged to him – she had access, but he had full ownership.

“A real woman,” she explained casually as his hand gripped her ass tighter than ever, “knows her highest aspiration is to be the possession of the most powerful man possible.”

All of Fleur’s billions, all her wealth and capital, now belonged to him.

He also gave Gabrielle a bit more control over her mind and orgasms – not as powerful as Fleur’s or his, but still much more capable of maintaining her sanity when around them.

Also, simply because Gabrielle’s stunning youthful looks filled him with so much affection and desire – he slightly altered Fleur and Gabrielle’s relationship. There was something about the way Fleur called Gabrielle “darling” that unsettled him a bit; it was a bit too demeaning.

“It’s not what I want; I don’t necessarily want them to be equal. Fleur is obviously superior. But I want them to lean on each other, love each other, be obsessed, share, and rely on one another.

“They are now true, eternal friends – deeply, madly in love with each other. Fleur is obsessed solely with me, my happiness, my cock, and our shared status, power, and prestige. But she adores Gabrielle; her female soulmate with whom she shares everything. If Fleur’s love and obsession with me is Jupiter, then her desire and admiration for Gabrielle is Saturn. I want it to be that close.”

“And so it is now.”

“Fleur is my irresistibly hot, regal, elegant, unspeakably wicked confidante; Gabrielle is roughly the same for Fleur and me; and both are helplessly and obsessively in love with me forever.

Just seconds after making this wish, Gabrielle transitions from whimpering and following us to easily and deftly wrapping her arm around mine, pushing and leaning into me in a conscious, loving way, just as Fleur is on the other side. Much, much better.

“This has already gotten out of hand with Fleur being so obsessed with me. How will it be with two women like Fleur? I suppose I’ll find out.”

As they enter the building, Harry’s hands hold both of their asses tightly, squeezing hard between their cheeks. It’s clear that he owns them, and they love it. Their bodies press against him, even as they stride effortlessly in their five-inch heels, their mini skirts revealing tantalizing glimpses of perfect skin.

Something else has changed in them both; something hard to pinpoint and not a direct result of his wishes. It’s a mannerism between their mannerisms; a meticulousness in their expressions, steps, placement of hands, and bodies. It’s an incredible, dazzling, unstoppable arrogance – beyond the regular confidence they also exude, it’s astronomical pride without the mortal flaw.

“They don’t remember the previous world. At all. Their knowledge of what the world once was has completely faded. It’s hard for me to even quantify it, like recalling chronological events from an old, old dream.”

Both of Harry Potter’s beautiful wives are now filled with obsessive pride, exploding with it. They are fully aware of being exceptionally beautiful, exceptionally in love, and exceptionally above human law or morality. Beyond all that? They were born into incredible, monumental wealth. Raised knowing they were the best, constantly told they were the best and the most beautiful, and every moment of their lives regularly affirmed this fact as more and more always went their way.

“Knowledge of this new world is coming to me slowly, but it’s arriving,” Harry thought. The rest of the planet is in unimaginable misery. Fleur’s control and wealth have led to incredible levels of extreme poverty and destitution, even slavery, starvation, and diseases that float among the populace like clouds of fog. Warm water is an unspeakably royal luxury. Clean water doubly so.

“But Fleur and Gabrielle, and the women who meet their standards? They just keep getting richer, more beautiful, happier, and happier—and it’s always been this way,” Harry noted. “That’s the secret sauce that elevates beauties like them to the stratosphere; the knowledge that they can easily murder someone in broad daylight in the middle of a public space and pay a dozen legal teams and private security agencies to both frame someone else and punish the victim’s family for generations with slave contracts and deliberate life extensions just to prolong their misery.”

Nothing, not a single thing about them, is “earthly.” They barely belong to our galaxy. “And they belong. They belong to me,” Harry murmured.