Death Stone ch.6

Harry Potter woke up with a sensation that felt almost surreal; his dream woman was fulfilling his wildest desires. But she wasn’t just any woman; she was a famous goddess whom he had desired for years. He had fantasized about her endlessly, to the point that it had raised concerns among mental health specialists. Night after night, she invaded his dreams because he couldn’t get enough of her image, and his subconscious was filled with her presence in his continuous fantasies. And now, she was here, displaying a slavish devotion to his manhood.

Every thrust and moan from her was a testament to her adoration for him. She murmured about her happiness and blessing to be in his presence, delighting in his member. 

"I love you, Master," Fleur moaned, her obsession now clear, trembling with desire. "I exist for you. I am yours and only yours."

Thanks to the magical Death Stone, Harry had transformed her into her most ideal self, the embodiment of beauty that she remembered from her youth. And let him tell you, it was hot as hell. Every inch of her perfectly sculpted body was crafted with the utmost precision. She highly respected her memory of her eighteen-year-old self. Not only that, but she was also immortal, making her not just beautiful but eternal. However, despite her breathtaking beauty and power, she was here, obsessively pleasing him, capable of ruling any country with a suggestive wink and a whisper.

Not only was she eternally young and beautiful, but she was joined by her twin-like counterpart, Gabrielle. Gabrielle might have begged, but her mouth was occupied, slurping and sucking on his balls and shaft while Fleur gently kissed his cock and stroked him. Her fist continuously pounded into Gabrielle's mouth; neither of them seemed to mind.

Harry knew the Death Stone was not a simple wish-granting tool, that its presence was meant to lead to the destruction of people, and ultimately, the world. However, would a few simple requests really change anything? After all he had been through, didn’t he deserve a bit of selfishness?

And that was not all.

To be clear, their absolutely perfect bodies were exactly the same, thanks to the stone! Their faces were different, but they had the same beautiful pale patches, blonde hair, vivid eyes, and an urgent need to satisfy Harry and possess only him.

He sat up, fully awakened, and as he did, Fleur held her sister Gabrielle on his cock, staring at him. "It's all for you, darling." Her hands clenched tightly in sister's hair. "It's all for you." Gabrielle, her throat full of his throbbing cock, moaned in muffled agreement. These two absolutely vibrant goddesses of sex, desire, and love belonged entirely to him and would never, ever have enough of him. He could climax whenever he desired – and that made him want to climax even more.

And today was only the second day with the wish stone.

"I can’t believe it," Fleur said. "Are you nervous?" She led, although "leading" was a generous term for the way she twisted all the way. He felt drunk, despite being sober. Harry had a thought that Fleur's wish for her perfect body meant she had permanently screwed him with her presence.

He would change that, but it made him hard. Mostly, she sat on his lap, leaning her arms against his heavily muscled chest, giggling and cooing at his every move. Her love for him was madness that only grew in intensity.

"The team is full of beautiful women," he said. "I guess I’ve never been in a room with so many amazing girls at once."

"None of them are as pretty as Sister," said Gabrielle. "I think you’ll manage."

Gabrielle gently caressed herself, obsessively watching Fleur from the back seat of the car. It was the only way to stay calm and keep her hands off them. He probably should tone down her obsession, but Gabrielle was a stunning number one in the A-Killer category, and having this traffic-stopping beauty fawning over him and the object of his own obsession made him rock hard again.

Gabrielle wore a pleated khaki skirt that reached far above her knees. That, plus the keyhole sweater she wore, made it hard to take his eyes off her, while her fingers tended to her dripping wet pussy, barely hidden by white lace panties. The gingham high socks and oxford heels didn’t help either.

But with Fleur so close, even visible at all, there was still no competition for him. She would have his full attention, even if she wore a garbage bag.

Instead, she was dressed in a sharp sharkskin business suit with a tight long skirt that hugged her knees and showcased the sexy chaos between her spectacularly slender thighs. The fertility of her hips couldn’t be more obvious. Her breasts, perfect and enormous, tightly hugged by a designer silk blouse, were even more decoratively shaped by the very tight jacket of her stylish suit. Diamond jewelry dangled from her delicate, incredibly thin neck, across prominent collarbones, and into the undulating shapes of her perfect twin globes. Did he mention her boobs were wavy and perfect? Oh my God. Her hair, parted in the middle, framed her angelic face. All Harry wanted to do was snuggle with her and delay this harem-gathering action – but if he took her home, all she would do was encourage him to wish for cheerleaders in her residence so he could screw them in some never-ending, years-long orgy.

Harry wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea; after all, he had an insatiable desire to engage with these women before anything else. Throughout his life, he had been overlooked by attractive women, so it was understandable that he craved their undivided attention. 

"I mean…" Fleur shrugged, "Can’t you just… well, you know, wish for them all to be just as you want?"

"Of course I can," Harry replied, "but it has its consequences and a price."

He spent the night experimenting with wishes, using Fleur's future ex-husband as the sole bearer of their consequences. When they started, Bill was in his mid-thirties, an extraordinary physical specimen built for athletic competition. But now he seemed to be nearing seventy, with sagging skin, brittle bones, and graying hair.

Ruining Bill’s life didn’t particularly bother Harry, although he found it disturbing that it didn’t bother him as much as it once did.

What really worried him was the memory of how he changed Gabrielle’s life for Fleur's benefit. When he wanted Gabrielle to share his obsession with Fleur’s beauty, he transformed her room into a temple dedicated to her sis. This unintended consequence raised questions about the ripple effect of his actions.
Tampering with the timeline of one girl might not have significant consequences, but if he began altering the lives of two dozen cheerleaders like the Queens, it could lead to unforeseen complications. For Harry, his eternal bond with Fleur was paramount. Though there are warnings about getting romantically involved with a celebrity crush, Harry hadn’t anticipated the intricacies that arose after using the reality-altering Death Stone to manipulate his crush’s sister into an obsessively devoted fan.

In the end, Harry couldn’t risk unraveling reality just for the thrill of having two dozen cheerleaders completely enamored with him, trained solely for their physical encounters. 

Harry Potter gazed at Fleur, his determination unwavering. He knew what he could do, what he likely wouldn’t do, and what he absolutely wouldn’t do. Doing so would mean risking the extraordinary relationship he cherished with Fleur. And that was simply out of the question.

“Darling?” Fleur’s voice interrupted his thoughts, her gentle touch on his face. He felt compassion in her caresses, but he also knew the danger of looking into her eyes. For anyone lacking his willpower, it was like diving headfirst into a deadly spell.

“I’m sorry. I was lost in thought.” Harry’s gaze remained fixed on Fleur, but his mind was elsewhere, focused on the centuries-old bond they shared.

As Fleur’s hand touched his bulge, Harry’s attention was momentarily diverted. He couldn’t help but notice the tempting curve of her cleavage, glistening in the sunlight. Her touch was already familiar, almost routine, yet it still sent shivers down his spine.

Smiling, Fleur ran her fingers through his hair, her affection palpable. Behind them, Gabrielle’s moans reminded him of their unconventional dynamic, but Harry remained undeterred.

“You have so much on your mind, darling. But remember, we’re in this together. I want you to have a harem of goddess cheerleaders just as much as you do.” She smiled. “Just like our sister. Right, darling?”

Our sister, she said. Damn.

“Yes. So much. You both deserve it, de- serve them all on their knees…”

“See? So whatever you need, you’re not alone. And if you need to strip a few girls of their age or soul to fuel more desires of controlling the situation, I know who to suggest.”

Ungh. She’s so hot and perfect.

“I just fear going too far. Losing control.”

She unzipped Harry Potter’s monstrous cock and straddled him. He was now so big that if not for her tightness, she wouldn’t fit between him and the steering wheel.

“Fuck me one last time before we go in,” she whispered into his mouth. “Just to loosen up. I know you haven’t been able to stop thinking about fucking me in this outfit anyway.”

She knew him too well, knew his obsession with her was complete. Everything they did, everything he was now and wanted to be, was all because of her. His obsessive love for Fleur created a perfect circle of longing for her beauty and happiness.

Her pussy slid down his fully engorged cock. Behind them, Gabrielle moaned in excitement.

“Oh my God,” moaned Gabrielle. “Yes. Together. Together. Oh my God. Fuck, yes, fuck him, yes!”

Harry groaned in pleasure. She was so damn tight. Every part of her physiology worked to grip him, to work his cock up and down. He watched her perfect face climax almost immediately - a small orgasm, but still hot. You haven’t lived until you see a gorgeous woman almost instantly come from the sensation of your cock inside her.

“You know, it’s funny, right?” Her voice remained a hot, accented whisper. “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, but it’s been less than a day.”

“Same.”

She giggled, pushing her breasts into his face. “At least you got to explore me. But I don’t know much about you. And there are so many things you don’t know about me.”

“Like what?” Her heavy breasts muffled his voice. Her voice took on a magical, trembling tone as she revealed a truth she wouldn’t otherwise share.

“I’m ruthless and power-hungry, and I treat cheerleaders like cattle because trophies and adornments mean everything to me.” Her pussy squeezed his throbbing cock. “And now, thinking a little clearer with you inside me, it really gives me pause…”

She said she could be a better confidante if he wasn’t making her come just by his presence, which basically happened with Gabrielle. So now she wouldn’t come unless she wanted to or he wanted it. It was still a lot, but not constant.