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Dumbledore's Little Pet

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“Professor?” The eleven year old boy asked, almost hugging the doorframe.

“Come in Harry, have a seat.” The Headmaster pointed to one of the two comfy back-winged chairs on the other side of his desk. Harry sank into it looking both scared and curious. The boy couldn’t keep his eyes off the knick-knacks that cluttered the large mahogany desk. He’d never been inside the Headmaster’s office before and he almost forgot the reason for his visit.

“Would you like some tea?” the Headmaster asked, getting up from his sitting position and placing a few files in his desk drawer. “I have a very fruity strawberry tea that just came in today," he said before harry could answer. “How many sugars do you take?”

“Er, two please.” Harry played with the cuff of his robe while the Headmaster busied with the tea. In no time at all, Harry had a steaming cup of strawberry tea in front of him. He continued twisting the cuff of his robe, leaving the tea untouched while the headmaster took a sip of his own. “Umm…”

“We must always remember, Harry, who it is we are addressing,” Dumbledore cut him off. “I believe Professor Snape may have goaded you on a bit, to be sure, but that doesn’t excuse what you said. Professor Snape is deserving of your respect and to call him such a thing, even when angered, is not acceptable behavior. I’m afraid Professor Snape was in the right having ordered you to come see me.”

The boy looked up from his tea, meeting the Headmaster’s gaze. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. It just sort of…slipped out,” he finished, looking sheepishly at his full cup of tea once more.

The Headmaster stood up and made his way over to Harry. When he was no more than a foot from Harry’s chair, he made a motion for the boy to get up. After Harry stood, Dumbledore placed both his hands on Harry’s shoulders, his gaze intense.

“Harry, the word you used- that you called Professor Snape- that is a very bad word. I don’t know where you learned such a foul word, but I never want any of my staff to report you using such language again, am I clear?”

Harry dropped his head in fear. The grip on his shoulders didn’t hurt exactly, and the Headmaster’s gaze wasn’t mean, just serious. Even so, Harry never liked being scolded by teachers he liked. If it were Snape, Harry would have just glared back and taken his punishment. This was different; he didn’t want Professor Dumbledore to think badly of him. He was scared the kind, grandfatherly mentor would never again talk to him the way he used to, would always be ashamed of him. Like Harry was already ashamed of himself. He should have held his tongue when Snape started speaking badly of his father after Harry’s potion exploded. The Slytherin’s were laughing at him and he was so embarrassed with the entire incident, that he yelled that at least his father wasn’t a complete asshole. That did it. Snape took fifty points from Gryffindor and told him to go to the Headmaster’s office. He’d learned the word from his uncle. Uncle Vernon used to yell bad words at the sports players on the telly, and sometimes at Harry.


Harry looked back up at the Headmaster. His eyes were starting to water. “Y-yes. I’m sorry Professor. It’ll never happen again, I swear,” he said, dropping his head back down.

“I certainly hope not. At least, it seems you understand that what you did was very wrong and regret your actions,” Dumbledore said, kinder. “But we still have the matter of your punishment I’m afraid.”

Albus Dumbledore was anything but afraid. In fact it took much-too-much effort to conceal his giddiness. He knew it was a good idea to give Severus a teaching position at Hogwarts, he just hadn’t known until now how good, and not just for the order. He’s just so good at goading the boy; the beautiful raven-haired nymph standing no more than a foot away with his bottom lip between his teeth. So shy, so scared, so inviting. He knew he wanted him the moment he walked in the double doors of Hogwarts, no maybe before that. The child was a hero, the chosen one; defeating one of the most powerful dark wizards in history without needing to lift a finger. It made the power-hungry Headmaster hard. He just wasn’t able to get his hands on the boy until today. Harry Potter was just too good. Not perfect, but he never did anything to warrant getting sent to his office. But now...

“My boy, we must give you a punishment that fits your crime. And I’ve just thought of the perfect thing.” Dumbledore waved his wand and all the papers, knick-knack’s, tea, anything that had been on the headmaster’s desk, vanished. “I believe in muggle households, they have a custom where foul language is punished by having the child wash their mouth out with soap. Come here,” he patted his desk.

“Sir, the-“

“Yes Harry, the desk. Come sit on top of my desk so we can begin your punishment.” Harry climbed up onto the desk. The Headmaster repositioned him so that he was facing his own chair. The old wizard remained standing. “There now, that’s better. I’m sorry that my desk isn’t the most comfortable seat, but this is a punishment remember.”

Dumbledore then walked to the other side of his office and opened a door. Harry could see the corner of a large four poster bed with purple sheets. Dumbledore walked inside the adjoining room, leaving the door open. Harry no longer had a view of his Headmaster. Dumbledore walked back out after a short time with a small bag in his hand. From the bag he took out a small bottle and placed the bag on the desk, away from Harry.

Dumbledore showed Harry the small clear bottle which was filled with a thick creamy white liquid. “This, my dear boy, is my special facial soap made especially for me by our very own house elves. They gift me with a bottle every holiday. It really does do wonders to soften the skin”. The wizard took the bottle in one hand and pumped a small dollop onto the index finger of his other. “Now Harry, please open up. The sooner we begin your punishment, the sooner you can go back up to your dormitory.”

Harry really didn’t want soap in his mouth. He had never been punished this way before for bad language. Usually Uncle Vernon would whack him upside the head or use his belt on him. Compared to that, a bad taste in his mouth was nothing to be too worried about, but as Dumbledore’s soapy finger approached Harry’s mouth, Harry couldn’t shake the thought that this was just wrong somehow. Harry closed his eyes and slowly opened his mouth anyway.

Dumbledore touched his finger to Harry’s tongue, leaving a line of thick soap in its wake. Harry scrunched up his face at the taste and invading finger. “That’s right, now here’s some more,” Dumbledore said, voice wispy. He couldn’t keep his lust from edging into his tone. He took the bottle of soap and pumped out a generous amount into his hand this time. The hand that wasn’t soapy scooped some up and placed two of his fingers in Harry’s mouth. “Alright Harry, close your mouth for me and suck the soap off my fingers.” Harry’s eyes opened as his mouth closed around the wrinkled fingers of the Headmaster. Harry’s lips started to suck. “Now lick my fingers clean.” Harry’s eyes began to water as his tongue began to work, licking all over and in between his mentor’s fingers, getting all the suds off. It tasted weird and made his tongue sting a little. The headmaster began playing with Harry’s tongue, sliding it between his fingers and twisting it this way and that. “Now open back up,” came the next command. Harry opened his mouth, which by this point was full of suds, as every lick made more and more. He looked like he had rabies, foaming at the mouth as he was.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and spelled his fingers clean. Next he picked up the bag and took out a toothbrush. “Let us further this punishment by making sure your mouth is as clean as can be.” The headmaster held Harry’s chin with one hand and slid the toothbrush over the young boy’s soap covered teeth with the other, brushing thoroughly.

Harry was in shock. The Headmaster was brushing his teeth for him like he was three years old. With soap no less. It was beyond embarrassing. He knew he could never let anyone else find out about this.

Just then, the Headmaster pushed the toothbrush a bit too far back and Harry gagged a bit. “Ah, sorry my boy, just trying to be thorough. Need to brush that tongue as well, gets rid of bad breath, you know.”

Dumbledore couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He wished it were his cock the boy had gagged on, but alas, a toothbrush would have to do…for now.

After brushing the suds into Harry’s teeth and tongue some more, the old wizard removed the toothbrush from Harry’s mouth and placed it on the desk. He then lifted Harry off the table and placed the young boy on his feet. “Let’s bring you to rinse out that mouth.”

The Headmaster led Harry through the door that he had seen him go through to get the soap. They walked quickly through the Headmaster’s bedchamber and into a rather large bathroom. The Headmaster led the boy to a sink and allowed Harry to rinse out his mouth. When Harry was done, the Headmaster asked Harry if his relatives had ever punished him with soap before.

“No sir, they’ve never done something like this.”

“Hmm, what about lines?”

“No sir.”

“A ruler to your backside perhaps?”

“N-No sir.”

“Ah, something more severe?"



Harry didn’t want to answer. “…Yes.” He finally said.

“Hmm, soap in the mouth does seem like a rather tame punishment compared to a decent spanking, and I’m assuming your relatives may have hit you a little too hard at times, yes?” The boy blushed and nodded, twisting his hands in his robes. Dumbledore knew Harry’s relatives treated him worse than a dog, that they beat him senseless on many an occasion. He just wanted an excuse to take his punishment up a couple notches. “Well then I’m afraid you won’t fully learn your lesson if I end your punishment here, will you?”

“S-sir? Are you going to hit me Professor?”

The boy looked absolutely frightened. Dumbledore grew harder. “Harry, you should know that no professor at this school would ever cause you pain like your relatives have. I’m only going to punish your misbehavior. I’m not saying that it won’t hurt a little, but I would never mistreat one of my students, Harry”.

The Headmaster abruptly pulled Harry to him, taking the boy in his arms. He held the boy tightly against him, petting his hair. At first Harry was still with shock at the hug. But as the Headmaster wouldn’t let him go, Harry slowly relaxed. He was confused, his relatives had never hugged him before and Harry was beginning to find a little comfort in the much older wizard’s odd embrace.

Feeling Harry relax into the hug, gave Dumbledore a sense of achievement. He had won. The young boy’s guard was down; it was time to take advantage.

“Alright Harry,” the Headmaster began, leading Harry out of the room and back into his office, “let us continue with your punishment.” He then transfigured a few roles of parchment into a simple, but sturdy wooden chair with no armrests. The Headmaster sat himself down. “I don’t know how you’ve been spanked in the past, but I think the only way to properly dole out a spanking is to have the person receiving the spanks to be bare, it will allow you to really feel the slaps, which will encourage you to change your behavior in future. Harry, please pull up your robe and lower your trousers now.”

Harry really didn’t want to. It was too humiliating to show his Headmaster, of all people, his naked backside. He was even too embarrassed to undress in the locker rooms; he always waited until everyone had gone. But he also didn’t want to disappoint the Headmaster. He knew that he deserved this punishment and the Headmaster was only trying to help him so he never got in trouble again.

Harry slowly undid the front button of his trousers and pulled them down. At the Headmaster’s command, he slid his white, cotton briefs down as well. His clothes remained a puddle around his ankles. Dumbledore stared at the red face of Harry Potter. The boy was blushing so intently it looked like his head may explode. Dumbledore soaked it all in, his tightly shut eyes, his cherry cheeks, his quivering hands at the hem of his robes; he had yet to lift them.

Dumbledore patted his thigh, “Come here my boy. Lift those robes and lay across my lap.” Harry did as he was told. His crotch touching Dumbledore’s silk robes as his arms and legs dangled off the sides of the chair. “I’m going to give you twenty slaps, Harry. Count them out loud for me.”

Harry felt the rush of air, then nothing, and then his bum was on fire. “AAAAAahhhh! Pro-professor!”

“Harry, you need to count them remember? Let’s start over.”

Once again air, nothing, then fire. “AAAaahhh! AH-O-o-one!”

“Very good.”

Then came another. “TTAAAahhh! TWO!” Then another. “THA-THRee!” Harry grasped onto the legs of the transfigured chair so hard his knuckles turned white.

The blows fell one after another. Some came quickly and with only a short window of opportunity to shout out what number he was on, while others came slower, giving Harry a chance to breath and dreading which cheek was going to get the majority of the heat this time. Harry started crying around fifteen.

Dumbledore was in heaven. The feel of those smooth round ass-cheeks when he slapped them, the feel of them when he caressed them in between slaps, it was glorious. They were so pert, so reddened by his own hand. He wished he could cast a spell to keep them that way. Oh well, he decided he would just refuse to give the lad salve instead. He’d play it off as a way to further instill the punishment. He really didn’t want the spanking to end though, but he told himself there was even more fun to be had after.

After the last blow landed, Harry screamed the number twenty, his voice hoarse, and continued his hiccupping sobs. Dumbledore could tell Harry had forgotten that he only had twenty slaps and was dreading the next. Dumbledore placed his hand softly on Harry’s beautiful bum and rubbed the small reddened mounds for a few minutes. Harry’s crying was starting to abate when Dumbledore slid a finger down the cleft of his cheeks, and began rubbing up and down, back and forth across Harry’s little hole.

Harry squirmed at the odd sensation of having the crease of his bum rubbed. “P-Professor? W-what are you doing?”

“It’s alright Harry. I’m only getting you ready for the next part of your punishment.”

“Next part? It’s not over?” Harry asked astonished, looking over his shoulder at the headmaster’s working hand.

“No, I’m afraid I must instill in you how very awful that word you called Professor Snape truly is. That word you called him, it was ‘asshole’, correct?” Harry nodded. “Do you know what it means?”

“A bad word for a donkey?”

Ah, so young. So innocent. “Well, the word ‘ass’ means donkey, but ‘asshole’ is something different” Dumbledore began. “Asshole is another word for the little hole between your cheeks.”

“My mouth?” Harry tilted his head, confused.

Dumbledore shook his head, “No, the other little hole between your other cheeks.”

Harry stared, then his eyes widened and his face flushed as acknowledgement hit him. “My b-bum hole?”

“Yes harry, adults like to call it an asshole. But it is a very bad word to call someone. Do you now understand why?”

Bumhole. Harry had called Snape a bumhole. Snape was mean and unfair, but he wasn’t a disgusting bumhole. No wonder he got in so much trouble. No wonder the Headmaster had punished him so much. If someone had compared him to a disgusting hole where poop comes out, he would be super mad too.

Harry got up and sat properly on the Headmaster’s lap, his trousers and underwear still around his ankles, and smiled up at the man. “Yes sir, I understand. That word is really bad and I should never ever have called someone that. I know why you had to punish me like you did.” Harry felt that sense of trust again. Dumbledore was doing everything he could to help Harry understand what he did wrong and why he was being punished. Uncle Vernon would have just beaten him senseless and yelled at him without explaining anything. Uncle Vernon hated him, but the Headmaster really cared about him, like more than a student, maybe even like a friend…or family.

Dumbledore could see in the boy’s eyes the trust and longing to be loved and cared for. He had a feeling that if he said what he was planning on saying, the young hero would let him do anything he wished.

“Harry, I want you to know that what I did today, what we’re doing, I’m only doing because I care greatly for your well-being. I’m putting you through all this,” Dumbledore waved his hand at nothing in particular, “because I love you.”

Harry saw a twinkle in the man’s eyes and hugged the Headmaster. Professor Dumbledore returned the hug with vigor and got up, carrying Harry bridal-style to his desk. The headmaster broke the hug and placed Harry on the side of his desk, positioning him on his stomach, with his bum in the air.

Dumbledore took in the sight of the young, eleven year old boy, laying doggy-style on his desk. He was on his elbows, head bowed, touching the desk. His ass was high in the air, supported by his knees.

“Alright Harry, this next punishment will further your understanding of why you’re being punished. When you first entered my office, I cleaned your mouth out with soap, now I will clean out your asshole with soap.”

“My- you’re going to…?

“It’s alright to say the word this time Harry. We are not directing the word at anyone; we are just simply calling your hole, what it is. Now go on, what did you want to ask?”

“Professor, you’re going to put soap in my a-asshole?”

“Yes, that’s right. Do you know why?”

“Er…because my asshole is dirty sir? Umm, because…because nobody should be called something so dirty it needs to be cleaned like this? Sir?”

“Well I just wanted to check to see if your asshole, the foul word you called Professor Snape, was as dirty as your foul mouth”. Dumbledore fucking loved the look on the kid’s face. “You see Harry, you may not know this as I suspect the Dursley’s never really cared much for your hygiene, but most folk clean out their assholes at least once a day, during their morning or nightly shower. Those who like to keep themselves extra clean, clean their holes twice a day. It’s a natural thing. I’m going to be using soap to clean out your hole and then we’ll rinse you out with water. Most people only use water to clean out their holes, as soap can sting, so your punishment is that I’m going to do it for you, being thorough with soap, kind of like I brushed your teeth with soap instead of toothpaste for you earlier. It’ll hurt a little. Understand now?”

Harry was still getting used to the idea that cleaning your bum- asshole was a normal, everyday thing to do. He knew he had to pay close attention to how the Headmaster did it, so he could remember to do it himself tomorrow.

“Yes, I understand. And thank you Professor for the punishments I need, and for cleaning out my asshole.”

Dumbledore could see the boy was afraid, and yet he still accepts, practically wants to be punished, and to have Dumbledore clean out his little hole for him. What a good boy. When this is over, he will need to find a way to keep his little pet coming back for more punishments.

“Alright harry,” The Headmaster said, putting on some purple surgical gloves. “I want you to spread your legs wider for me.”

Harry did. He widened his legs as far as they could go so he wouldn’t disappoint his grandfatherly mentor. Harry was still very much afraid. The headmaster said the soap would hurt, would sting his hole, but he knew he needed this. If Professor Dumbledore says he needs this punishment then he most certainly does. Harry wanted the Headmaster to be proud of him; he wanted to make him happy even.

“Good job, nice and wide.” Dumbledore could see a small smile grace the young face, put there by his words. “We can now proceed with the punishment. I’m going to put some of my soap on my finger, and some on your hole. Then I’m going to insert my finger inside you. Have you ever put anything inside your asshole, Harry?” Dumbledore knew he hadn’t.

“No sir, I’ve never cleaned out my hole before.”

“You’ve never even experimented with your finger?”

“No, sir.”

“Your wand?”

“My wand?”

“You’ve never put your wand up your bum?”

“No! Why would-“

“It’s alright Harry. Some people like to put things up their bum as it feels really good.” Dumbledore was straining against the fabric of his robes. He wanted to corrupt this young boy further.

“It feels good to have something up your bum?” Harry didn’t know if he believed that, but if the Headmaster said so, it must be true.

“Some people do, others don’t. You’re saying you’ve never experimented with your bum? Not even a small toy when you were younger?”

“No, sir”.

“Alright then, that means this may hurt a little more than I was anticipating.” At the look from Harry, Dumbledore continued. “Not to worry, I’ll be cleaning you out very slowly, and you may even enjoy it despite the pain.” Dumbledore was going to make sure young Harry would enjoy it thoroughly, so thoroughly that he came back for more.

The Headmaster did as he said he was going to do. He pumped some soap onto his purple, gloved index finger and rubbed it around until in covered the entire digit. He also put a small squirt of soap at Harry’s entrance. Harry looked over his shoulder that the entire scene waiting for his penetration and pain to begin. The Headmaster placed his soapy gloved finger at Harry’s hole and slowly pushed against the muscle there. Harry couldn’t see everything that was going on. He felt a little pressure and a tiny sting from the soap against his hole, but nothing else. He relaxed.

Once the boy turned his head back around and relaxed himself, thinking the finger was already in, Dumbledore pushed the gloved digit inside with one swift thrust, breaching through the tight ring of muscle of Harry’s small sphincter.

“AAAAhhhh! Ooww!” That hurt. That. Really. Hurt. Harry wanted that finger out. Now. Besides the pain, a finger up his bum- asshole felt too weird. Harry thought it felt like he had to go to the toilet really bad. He didn’t like it. “Pro-professor, pl-please take it out,” Harry whimpered.

“Hush now, you’re okay,” Dumbledore calmly said as he began to rub circles on Harry’s lower back with his other hand. “Be a good boy and loosen up so I can put the rest of my finger inside.”

“There’s more?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Yes pet, now relax”.

Only the first knuckle of Dumbledore’s index finger was inside Harry. He could feel the tightness squeezing around him. Dumbledore’s cock leaked a little precum at the sensation. Oh how he wanted to fuck the boy hard and fast on his finger until he saw blood, make him scream in pain. But Dumbledore was a patient man. He knew he had to take this slow, make Harry feel both pain and pleasure tonight, to keep him coming back. And the young hero would keep coming; Dumbledore was already forming plans for his little pet. Dumbledore was going to turn Harry Potter into his own little masochistic slave, to use and manipulate for many years to come. Harry would learn to love the pain Dumbledore would graciously inflict on him. All in the name of love of course.

Dumbledore slowly pulled out of Harry and generously coated his glove-covered index finger with the thick white soap again. He then slowly and carefully reinserted it, going deeper than before until he reached his second knuckle. Dumbledore continued to rub the boy’s back through all of this, whispering words of encouragement intermingled with a few more sexual phrases that he hoped would bypass the boy’s current consciousness and manifest in the child’s dreams that night. This shouldn’t be a problem as the man assumed the boy was really only focused on two things: his intruding finger and the words “good boy”. He knew the words had an effect on the boy. Every time he spoke them, Harry gave a small reaction; he could feel the boy relax his anal muscles for just a second every time the words were spoken. The effect of the finger was obvious. Pain. But that would change soon. Dumbledore was forcefully opening the virginal entrance of a boy who had only just turned eleven five months prior. Of course it would hurt, no matter how gentle the man was being. The kid’s little hole was not made for this, but of course, Harry didn’t need to know that. And the longer the man worked the boy’s hole, the more he thought that if it was going to hurt the kid anyway, why not just get it over with quickly. The man was losing his patience; he was too hard. The boy’s little gasps and whimpers serenaded Dumbledore’s cock until he couldn’t take it anymore and quickly shoved his finger the rest of the way into Harry’s tightly gripping channel.

“AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!...I…Oowww…oow”. Harry was sobbing loudly and trying to get up and dislodge the Headmaster’s finger.

“Harry, my boy, it’s alright. Don’t try to move. Your punishment isn’t over yet”. Dumbledore said trying to hold Harry still so he wouldn’t get free. It was a challenge. Harry struggled to get up and off the desk. Dumbledore had to physically grab hold of his middle with one arm while his index finger was still buried all the way inside Harry’s hole.

“Pl-please…I…I can’t! It h-hurts too much. My bum is being torn apart Professor!”

“No it’s not Harry. You’re fine I promise. This is how it is for everyone the first time they clean out their asshole, well all except the soap. And if you had started much sooner like you should have, it wouldn’t hurt as much. You never thought it was strange that a hole that gets so dirty wouldn’t need cleaning? You should have asked an adult about this much sooner. It’s too late now, and this is the result. You are partially to blame for this pain. I’m only grateful that I was able to find out now that you haven’t been washing out your hole, instead of five years from now. Imagine how much it would hurt then! I’m very disappointed in you Mr. Potter for not having the foresight to clean out your filthy hole when you noticed it was a very dirty place! And not only that, but to struggle against me, to cry and fight when I’m only trying to help you…I truly am ashamed.” Dumbledore looked sternly down at Harry, who had his mouth agape with tears still streaming down his cheeks. How fucking delicious. Dumbledore knew that little bit of emotional abuse would be his saving grace. He had him now.

Harry couldn’t speak. His once kindly Headmaster had told him the truth. He hadn’t sugar coated it with smiles and tea. He had been very blunt. Harry was a bad boy. He hadn’t cleaned out his stupid, filthy, poop-filled hole like he obviously should have all these years. Of course everyone else cleans their assholes, it’s only natural. If he got poop on his foot or any other part of his body, he would clean that right? Well duh! He wouldn’t just clean it, he’d make it spotless, like Aunt Petunia’s kitchen floor. He had to wash the floor with soap and water every day and polish it once a week. Otherwise it would have dirt from people’s shoes on it. And poop is much more disgusting than dirt.

Harry sank down, boneless on the desk. His fight had gone out and he wept in his hands. Dumbledore rubbed his back some more with his free hand and cooed reassuring words. “It’s alright Harry. We know now, don’t we? You’ll be okay, pet. We’ll get through this together.” Slowly, Dumbledore calmed the child down until he was out of tears and they were ready to continue. Dumbledore ordered Harry back on his knees and elbows, and Harry obeyed. No fuss, no whimpering, he just did as he was told. Harry even looked back and gave Dumbledore a watery smile to show he was ready to listen and obey anything the man asked of him. Dumbledore gave the boy a warm smile of his own and rubbed the boy’s ass-cheek to show all was forgiven.

“If we’re ready, I’m going to slowly pull my finger out of your hole so I can coat it with more soap alright?”

“Yes Professor, thank you sir”. The boy grinned back at him.

As Dumbledore retracted his finger from the boy’s hole, he noticed Harry was trying not to make a sound, and even going so far as to try to make it look like he wasn’t feeling any discomfort at all. His face was scrunched up a bit, but other than that, nothing.

“It’s alright to show that you’re in pain, Harry. It will better help me cause you less, I imagine.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry’s face immediately changed into one of agony and he let slip a few pain-filled grunts as Dumbledore finally popped his finger out of the boy’s traumatized and quivering entrance.

“A-am I bleeding? I think I might be bleeding.” The boy asked frightened, but not trying to be disobedient.

There was indeed some blood on the man’s purple gloved finger. Not an excessive amount, but enough that the soap in the teared tissue should be doubly painful. Dumbledore smiled on the inside, but hid his feelings well. “No Harry. No blood. I told you it wouldn’t damage you, only hurt you some at first.” His lie was swallowed easily. Harry trusted him completely.

“Oh, okay. So, more soap then?”

“Yes. Why don’t you reach over and grab that bottle for me.”

“Okay.” Harry lifted himself to his knees, and twisting around, grabbed the bottle with one of his hands. “Here, Professor.”

“Why don’t you squirt some out on my hand for me, my boy?”

“Alright, how much?” Harry began squirting.

“There, that’s about right. That looks like plenty.”

Harry stopped squirting out the soap and placed the bottle back on the desk beside him. Then he got back on his knees and elbows, patiently waiting for the Headmaster to continue. The much older man told Harry what a good boy he was being and began to slowly reinsert his finger. The soap hurt a lot, but Harry was determined not to tell the Headmaster to stop. He needed this after all, not just the cleaning, but the punishment too. He bit his lip and let the man slide his finger in and out, twisting this way and that. After a while his hole began to accommodate the headmaster’s finger better, and the soap was the only thing that hurt. And the soap didn’t hurt as much as the finger entering, that was a searing pain that made Harry feel like his hole was tearing. The soap just stung a real lot.

Dumbledore noticed Harry’s hole was loosening nicely. He could now easily slide his finger in and out, lubed with plenty of soap, with no real resistance. But it really was only one finger after all. Imagine if he were to start shoving his cock in there. The kid would probably die. He kept on his ministrations for a little while, then popped his finger back out of Harry’s slickened hole. The child relaxed completely. He thought his punishment was all over. Not quite.

“Harry, I’m very proud of you for handling this so well now. We had a rather shaky beginning, but I believe you truly understand that I’m only trying to help you. I think we can add another finger, don’t you?”

“Another? O-okay, sir. If that’s what will help.”

“Yes, trust me. Now I’m going to apply a lot of soap, but this may still hurt. Hold on a little bit longer Harry.”

“Would you like me to pump the soap for you?”

“Certainly.” What a good child, helping Dumbledore torture his hole further. He really will make a fine masochist someday.

After Harry pumped the soap into Dumbledore’s hand, the man told Harry to get back into position. Harry did so, patiently waiting. Dumbledore placed the two fingers at his hole and pushed in a little, only up to where his nailbed began.

Harry felt his tight opening stretch at the wider invasion. It hurt, but not like when his Headmaster had opened him the first time.

Dumbledore began to open his fingers inside the boy’s entrance and heard Harry gasp. Dumbledore closed them and moved his fingers forward to the first knuckles slowly. He could tell Harry was in pain, especially because he had torn the poor boy the last time, and the soap was seeping into his injuries. Dumbledore moved even further, stretched and scissored the boy’s hole, then moved forward again till his two fingers were all the way in. Harry was grunting and his face was screwed up, eyes closed tight.

“Harry, what I’m about to do will hurt you further, but bear with it. After a while, your hole will loosen and grow accustomed to the size.”

“Okay Professor, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome Harry. Thank you for being such a good boy.”

Harry smiled back at him and mentally prepared himself for what was to come. Just then Harry could feel the fingers of the Headmaster move slowly out of him, stopping just before they popped out of his asshole. Then they were slowly moving back in until they could go no further. Out and in, out and in. It started off slowly, then the speed got faster and faster. Sometimes the fingers would suddenly stop and open up inside him, stretching some part of him, then continue just as fast as they were.

Dumbledore never thought he would ever have the chance to finger fuck Harry Potter, but dreams do indeed come true. With every thrust the boy gasped, whimpered, or muffled a scream. It was quite nice. After a while, his hole was loosening and the boy’s noises were quieting. The boy’s face was still scrunched up, but that was the soap’s doing. And now that the soap was the only thing causing Harry pain, Dumbledore could continue with his plan. For the first time Dumbledore quickly thrust his fingers in a hook-like way, and reached Harry’s virgin prostate at last.

Harry gasped, filling his lungs with air like a boy who had just been drowning. The Headmaster had hit something inside of him and Harry didn’t know how he felt. It was intense. It didn’t hurt, well the soap did, but this kind of made him forget about that for a moment. At that second, a flash of white was the only thing in his brain. Then it was over and the pain created by the soap was back. Well the pain never really went away, it just…didn’t matter.

Harry looked over his shoulder at his Headmaster. “Wha-what was that?” Harry asked, out of breath.

Dumbledore looked puzzled for a moment and asked, “Oh, this?”

The bright White flash was back! It only lasted an instant. Then it was gone again. Harry couldn’t speak. He nodded his head.

“That is what good little boys who clean out their holes like they're supposed to get for their trouble. That my boy, is called your prostate.”

“Oh.” Harry didn’t know what else to say. He faced forward and waited for those gloved fingers to hit that spot again. But the Headmaster pulled his fingers out of Harry’s hole instead.

“Professor, is my punishment over?” One part of him, the part called his prostate, kind of hoped it wasn’t.

“Yes Harry, I think you’ve been punished enough for one night.” Always leave them wanting more. “Now we just need to rinse out the soap, okay?”

“Okay Professor.”

“Harry I’m going to carry you over to the bathroom now. I need you to hold onto the soap in your asshole. You need to clench your hole or the suds will start to leak out, and we wouldn’t want a mess now, would we?”

“Ye- I mean no Professor, we wouldn’t. I won’t let any soap spill out.”

Dumbledore ran his fingers through the black strands of Harry’s hair, “That’s my good boy,” he said, smiling warmly down at his pet. Harry leaned into the touch and smiled back. Dumbledore lifted Harry’s small frame up from the desk and carried him into the bathroom. Harry’s robes fell back in place, but his trousers and briefs were still around the boy’s ankles. What he wouldn’t give to just take the boy to bed now. When he reached the bathroom, he deposited the small boy on the blue tiles and told him to remove his trousers and underwear completely from his body. Harry stepped out of both. He then told the boy to get on the tiled floor on his hands and knees. The boy did that too. Dumbledore took out his wand and summoned the enema syringe. He magically filled it with water and placed it at the boy’s entrance.

“Harry, I’m going to put the tip of this syringe inside your asshole and push the plunger. Your anal cavity will fill with a lot of water. It will be very uncomfortable, but won’t damage you. I want you to be a good boy for me and take all of it, alright?”

“Okay Professor.” Harry wasn’t too worried this time. It was only water after all.

Dumbledore pushed the plunger slowly until there wasn’t any water left inside. The boy looked a little uncomfortable, but that was all. The elderly wizard could fix that.

“Good job Harry, you did really well with the first one. Now when I take this out, you need to clench really hard so nothing spills out before I can give you the next one.”

“Next o-“ but before Harry could finish the syringe was out and the next one was in its place. If he thought he was uncomfortable before, he was definitely in pain now. Harry could see his stomach expanding and it made him panic. He could imagine himself popping like a balloon. Then he could feel the Headmaster’s hand on his head and he remembered what his mentor had said. It wouldn’t damage him. Harry realized he wasn’t going to pop. If the Headmaster said he would be fine, then he would be. That didn’t stop the tears that silently leaked from his eyes however.

“Very, very good boy. You’re doing so well, my pet. We’re almost done now. When I pull the syringe out this time remember to clench.”

Harry could feel the syringe leaving his body, it took him everything he had to not let the water escape. At least until he felt something cold touch his hole. A cold round object penetrated his hole. It was thin at first, then got wider and wider until it was just a bit wider than the two fingers that had been in there not long ago. Then it quickly got thinner as it settled into place.

“There. I’ve placed a plug inside of you so the water can’t escape. You can move around now Harry.”

The plug didn’t really hurt. It just felt odd. Harry turned around and sat facing the Headmaster on the tile floor, crotch covered by his robe.

Dumbledore looked down at the young boy, belly protruding obscenely in his school robe. Harry looked like he had gotten knocked up eight months prior. Dumbledore had to shift himself in his robes. “Let’s wait a few minutes before we take the plug out. I really want to get all the soap out on the first try.”

“Okay sir. Umm…is this how people normally clean out their holes? With the, umm…”

“It’s called an enema, and yes most people use one. There are lots of ways one can go about it though.”


After a while the Headmaster told Harry to sit over the toilet. He was going to take the plug out.

“Er, sir? I know I’ve never done this before, but do you think I could do this part alone, maybe?”

“Don’t worry about being embarrassed Harry, everyone does it. And I need to see if you get all the soap out.”

Harry wanted to argue this further. He really didn’t want his Headmaster to see him…well, do his business, but he didn’t want to cause any more trouble for the man, so he sat on the toilet backwards with his back toward the headmaster and waited.

“Alright Harry, I’m pulling out the plug now.” And out it came. All of it. The water and soap rushed out like a fountain, giving Harry cramps and an embarrassment that will last his whole life. When it was done, the headmaster told him to stand up and bend over. Dumbledore inspected Harry’s hole and told him that all the soap was out.

“Good job, my boy. Your first enema must have been tough. I’m glad you pulled through without too much trouble,” the man said, standing up properly. Dumbledore instructed the boy to put his clothes back on, and once that was done, lead him back to his office. Dumbledore took out his wand and re-materialized everything that had been on his desk at the start of Harry’s visit. Harry’s still full cup of tea sat just where it had been.

“I hope you learned your lesson tonight, Harry. Don’t call anyone any bad words, alright?”

Harry nodded and smiled up at his Headmaster, “I won’t sir.”

“And don’t forget to clean out your hole every night before you go to sleep.”

Harry nodded again.

Dumbledore went to open the door for his favorite student, then stopped with his hand on the door handle. He looked Harry in the eyes, his half-moon spectacles slid down the tiniest bit. “Harry, I want you to remember this, it wouldn’t be a good idea to try and talk to your housemates or the other professors about cleaning out that hole. It is a very embarrassing and sensitive topic for a lot of people. And it’s always done in private. I’m sure you’ve never seen Mr. Weasley cleaning out his hole, or even discussing it with anyone, am I right?”

“No sir, like I said I hadn’t even known you should.”

“Exactly. It’s just not something we talk about. I would very much appreciate it if you keep what we did here tonight to yourself.”

“Oh, I would never dream of telling anyone about…yeah, too embarrassing.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Good. Nobody would ever find out about this. He knew Harry would never be able to tell, he just wanted to make absolute certain. Dumbledore opened the door for Harry, but harry just stood there. Dumbledore knew exactly what Harry was too embarrassed to ask.

Harry looked down at the spiraling staircase but he couldn’t move. He needed to ask this question, but what if the Headmaster said no? Hadn’t he caused the man too much trouble already? But he can’t do this by himself, Headmaster Dumbledore knows so much more about all of this. He needed Dumbledore to help him, even if he would be forever embarrassed…and in pain. Then a little voice inside Harry's head spoke up: maybe the Headmaster knows a way to clean out his hole that includes that blinding white prostate feeling again. Even if the pain comes with it.


“Yes, Harry?”

“Umm, I still don’t really know what I’m doing when it comes to cleaning out my asshole, so... do you think…would you, if you have the time of course, be able to help me out tomorrow night, maybe?” Harry held his breath. Did he even really want this?

“I have some time around eight, if that works. I wouldn’t want this to take away from your homework time.”

Harry let out a breath. He was relieved. “Yes, eight o’clock is perfect. I’ll be here sir”.

Dumbledore nodded. “Alright Harry, now run along,” Dumbledore said, giving his new pet a light slap to his rump. The man watched the boy make his way down the spiral stairs and smiled at what his plans for tomorrow’s lesson would mean for the boy- no, his pet.