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Harry, having overheard many a thing in his year at Hogwarts, was confused about why some boys went on and on about girls and women, talking about bubbies and fun bags and baps, or slick and hot fannies and muffs. Wanting to understand, or try to, he quietly liberated one of Seamus’ magazines and hid it to take home with him, as their first year of school was ending and they were soon to take the Hogwart’s Express back to London.
The magazine stayed tucked away until he was safely home, his things unpacked (the magazine went under the mattress for the time being), and it was time for bed. He wished his father a good night and headed on up to bed, having exhausted every conversational option possible (and of which all of them lead straight back to either James’ lament over his dead wife or what pranks had he pulled during the school year).
Harry got the distinct impression that his father was not at all impressed with his attention to his studies rather than pranking escapades against Slytherins.
He was sitting under the covers, magazine at the ready, prepared to try to understand this fascination with girls and women. Some of the pictures were … different. He turned the magazine this way and that, trying to spark something resembling understanding, while looking at breasts and spread legs and backsides.
Harry was just about to flip to the next set when James burst through his bedroom door, saying, “I almost forgot! I meant to—” His father darted forward and snatched the magazine away, flipped through it rapidly, then scowled.
“I can’t believe this. The sheer disrespect!” James whipped out his wand and cast a silencing spell on him. “No, I don’t want to hear it. Every excuse would be pathetic. How dare you disrespect women? Your own mother! She died for you, remember!?”
The magazine was summarily vanished before James continued, though he did take a moment to summon a potion vial. “You will be punished for this. I’ll make sure you learn how to respect women.” His father then slapped him across the face, dragging a gasp of pain from him, and dumped the contents of the vial into his open mouth.
It was lights out very quickly after that.
He awoke to the realization that it was daytime, he was naked, and he had been chained outside in what looked like an impromptu stable of sorts on the grounds. There was a collar around his neck, the chain from that leading to the wall of the stable in front of him, making it impossible for him to move away. In addition, their were cuffs around his wrists and ankles, which also had chains leading to metal rings in the floor.
Even worse, a fat cylinder had been shoved into his mouth, the item looking like an L of sorts, and making him go nearly cross-eyed it was so close to his face, the upward-extending part of it. He could feel something dribbling into his mouth, sort of sweet, like … pureed fruit of some kind? Out of the corner of his eye he could see James and Uncle Remus, staring at him.
“So why this?” Remus asked, his gaze appearing to flick between various points.
Harry, already feeling horribly warm—the kind of warm that spoke of an ugly blush of humiliation—then heard: “Because I caught him with a porn mag. He’s being incredibly disrespectful to women, to his own mother. She died for him! So he’s to be punished. I gave him a potion that’ll make him inflate like he’s pregnant. It’ll last for the summer. Just need enough willing bodies to fill him with enough cum to get him there.”
“Huh,” Remus said thoughtfully
“You’re free to use him for sexual relief as much as you want,” James added.
Remus hummed, then said, “One person won’t be anywhere near enough.”
“I know,” James said morosely. “Can you scare up a werewolf pack or two? Enough to use the disrespectful little brat hard and fill him up but good. I want him so full he looks ready to give birth. You have always said that pack-based males have a hard time getting relief, what with the Alpha taking all the good women.”
“True, true.”
Harry could still feel his skin burning, worse even at the idea of being used by several dozen werewolves. Since his mouth was full, the only thing left was…
He had always thought Uncle Remus was spineless. He tried so hard not to lose James’ favor that he never raised objections to anything, and went along with James’ plans. Lily was dead, betrayed, Peter was dead, the betrayer, and Sirius had gotten himself killed trying to track Peter down and bring him in. Remus had no other friends that Harry knew of.
“Yeah, all right. I’ll be back as quickly as I can, and bring as many as I can. I’m sure they’d love the opportunity.”
James nodded and said, “You all can teach the brat to be a good little cum dumpster. Just bring everyone right here. Fill him up good, okay? Soon as I know you’re back, I’ll come watch. I want to see the brat learn some respect.”
He was, against all odds, bored out of his mind when he wasn’t busy being terrified at what was to come. The sound of multiple cracks got his heart beating erratically, along with the sound of footsteps drawing nearer.
Another crack sounded, and then: “Remus, you’re back! And excellent, you brought plenty of friends. Here, catch!”
Unfortunately (or was that fortunately?) he could not see whatever was thrown.
“Ah, right. I’ll use some, sure. Not too much,” Remus said. “After all, once I cum in him, he’ll be a bit more slippery.”
“And if there’s any blood from being a bit rough, that’ll help, too,” James said. “I insist you all be a bit rough. It’s not punishment if he doesn’t have to suffer some pain.”
His body was back to burning with blushing humiliation, quivering in fear, and twitching with the need to escape his bindings and run away.
Footsteps drew nearer, then something cold was smeared over his arsehole. The next thing he knew something that felt huge was being pressed into him, splitting him open. He moaned in pain around the gag in his mouth, swallowing convulsively as the fruit slurry squeezed out and threatened to choke him.
Remus kept pushing in until Harry felt the man’s body against his, then pulled back rapidly and slammed forward, ripping another moan of pain from him. Did women have to endure this every time? Was childbirth so much worse?
Remus settled into a rhythm of roughly fucking him, making Harry feel like his arsehole was going to split open permanently. He just kept on and on, letting out grunts of pleasure, and James was in the background making pleased noises and saying things like, “Yeah, that’s it. Teach the little brat some respect. Make him bleed a little, make him understand he can’t disrespect women. Women have to bleed every month, so let’s see how he likes it.”
After what felt like forever, when Harry’s arsehole and insides were burning with discomfort and pain, Remus slammed into him even harder, then just stopped, fully inside. Harry fancied he could feel Uncle Remus’ cock pulsing inside him, filling him with cum. And then he slipped out and moved away.
“Next!” James cried gleefully. “I want him so full he’s ready to pop!”
Werewolf after werewolf and werewolf fucked his sore and bleeding arsehole, pumping him full of seed, until at last each of them had had a turn.
“He’s barely plump,” Remus observed.
“I know,” James said morosely. “This is going to take a while. But I suppose, to learn his lesson, that isn’t such a bad thing. How about we all have lunch, then you can come back for round two?”
He was left there for an hour and a half, with only the stable wall and the oddly-shaped gag to stare at, fruit slurry to feed him, and the feeling of pain accompanied by what was probably blood and cum seeping out of his abused arsehole.
They were back much too soon, and began using him again.
“He makes for a fine cum dumpster,” James muttered just loud enough to be heard. “Damn brat better learn something from this.”
And they didn’t just go once each. By the time all of them had a turn they were ready for another round. They kept going right through to dinner time, and James invited them in for another meal, with an offer to go for a third session afterward.
He wasn’t sure if dinner somehow being a shorter meal was a good or bad thing, but they were soon enough back to fuck him and keep spilling cum inside him.
James growled. “Not even close. That’s just a barely gentle swell. So, okay. All of you are welcome back each day if you want. I’ll provide the meals, you provide the cum. I want the brat fully distended. I’m willing to pay good gold to see it happen in addition to the meals. And I’m going to keep him like that all summer so he learns his damn lesson.”
Harry was freshly mortified the day Hagrid came to visit, not that he saw Hagrid. What he did see—or rather feel—was Fang, because the over-sized boarhound found him and decided to start licking his abused arsehole. Fang then decided he would be good to fuck, and mounted him, shoving his large cock inside and pumping away.
What surprised him (when he wasn’t busy feeling utter humiliation at being used by a dog) was that when Fang came inside him, the dog’s cock swelled and just stayed there. It got so big it felt weirdly pleasant, which simply served to make him feel mortified all over again and like there was something very wrong with him.
Eventually the swelling subsided and Fang pulled away. Just in time, too, as Harry could hear Hagrid calling for his dog.
Shortly after that the werewolves were back to get their sexual relief and pump his abdomen even fuller with cum. He was getting rather large, all told, from what little he could see. It was mostly felt in the heaviness of his midsection, and how it felt like something was sloshing around inside him.
His arsehole still hurt, but he didn’t bleed as much after being used so often by so many. He was dead tired, though. Managing to sleep while chained up the way he was was difficult. A house-elf showed up every so often to replenish his feed and give him a quick clean-up, also taking care of all the piss he spilled onto the floor, or the shit mixed with cum.
He had stopped blushing. His body just couldn’t seem to work up to that any longer. All the werewolves treated what was happening like it was perfectly normal and starting calling him a “good little cum dumpster”. Some insisted Harry was enjoying himself greatly being their “little slut”.
Somehow, Harry did not think being a “little slut” was what his father had in mind when it came to learning to respect women, nor did he believe that he was supposed to equate fucking with pain, because then why would a woman ever consent to be fucked? They had an extra hole, yes, he saw that in the pictures, but without knowing more… Was that hole more receptive to fucking, and therefore less likely to feel pain?
His belly was practically brushing the floor when James finally released from the collar and cuffs. “Now, you’re going to stay like this all summer. You’re going to feel at least something of what it must be like for a pregnant woman, and start showing some respect. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Father,” he murmured, then immediately started coughing. Lacking the ability to speak for so long caused his throat to hurt when he tried, it seemed.
“Off to bed. In the morning, after breakfast, you can get started on your summer work.”
Harry realized very quickly that he was going to have trouble for at least some time when it came to holding his bowels. All the abuse his arsehole had suffered made it hard for it to close properly, not to mention being chained out for so long and forced to shit himself, and he had to be very careful to visit the toilet on a regular basis.
It was only a week later when James took a look at him over the breakfast table and frowned. The next thing he knew he’d been stunned, carted off, stripped, and chained back into place. “You’re deflating somewhat. Clearly, you need a top-off.”
Within the hour a few dozen werewolves (and Uncle Remus) showed up to start filling him up again.
James seemed pleased by the time dinner rolled around. “Once a week sound good?”
The werewolves present all murmured agreement.
“Excellent. I’ll have the brat chained out every Monday morning and he’s yours to fuck all day, with a bonus of gold at the end of the evening. Got to keep him distended. While it’s a shame some of it manages to escape, it just means all of you get a weekly opportunity for some relief.”
And so went his summer. Barely if ever talking, chained up once a week and used all day as many times as the werewolves could manage. James did his school shopping because Harry was forbidden from leaving the grounds. When he wasn’t being fucked he was only allowed to do school work, or read ahead, or read books on household charms and other things a woman would be expected to know, all so he would better understand and therefore respect women.
Come the evening of 31st August, James hauled him off to one of the bathrooms and shoved him into the tub, naked, and did something with his wand that caused all the cum inflating him to start gushing out. Harry watched in amazement as his stomach slowly deflated back to normal, his legs soaked with cum and more of it swirling down the drain.
“Now get cleaned up, then go pack. You have the train ride tomorrow.”
School was both a welcome relief and oddly boring. The one time he got anywhere near Hagrid’s hut he was quickly driven away by the attention Fang was showing him. Clearly the dog wanted another go at him.
He couldn’t stop thinking about it, though, and finally gave in to his curiosity. He lured Fang off to a quiet spot he had never once seen anyone else in, and stripped before getting on all fours. Fang took the offer for what it was and immediately mounted him, fucking him with jerky, rapid thrusts until the dog came, the cock inside him swelling again and locking him in place.
Harry again thought it felt weirdly pleasant, and patted Fang once the dog pulled away. He got dressed and wandered back to the school to put in some work, resolving to lure Fang off at least once a week to let the dog fuck him. Maybe even more often if he could get away with it. James had said the inflation should only last the summer, so that should not be an unwanted complication.
More talk was overheard about sex, though if he was being honest, he sought out those conversations to listen in on. Plenty about girls and women, but he still couldn’t see why they cared. Maybe he was just too young? He was only twelve. He also overheard girls giggling over boys, them talking about how dreamy so-and-so was, or how “well hung” so-and-so was. One even said a certain boy was “hung like a horse”, which only made him think of centaurs.
What would a centaur’s cock feel like?
None of the pictures or artwork in his books showed that, but he guessed that made sense. Why would wixen books show something like that? They just talked about how territorial centaurs were, and distrusting of outsiders.
By the time exams rolled around he had long since worked into his schedule getting fucked by Fang at least thrice weekly, more if he could manage it, and always enjoyed when the dog’s cock would swell inside him. He even figured out a sort of plug to shove into himself so he could keep the cum inside and not seeping out to stain his pants or trousers, at least until he could take a shower and aim a jet of water up through his arsehole, which was still loose.
The werewolves had clearly damaged his with the relentless fucking and he was just going to have to learn to live with it if a full year hadn’t restored it to normal. Having Fang fuck him so often probably didn’t help.
Being then incredibly curious about centaur cocks, he resolved to find out. That being the case, he liberated another porn mag and hid it away, as well as some artwork of centaurs. Maybe he could get James thinking in that direction after getting accidentally-on-purpose caught again?
James caught him looking at the porn mag one morning early into the summer break and scowled so fiercely Harry was almost frightened. It was confiscated and destroyed, Harry was stunned and hauled off, and again chained into place.
But the werewolves were not called for. Had all those depictions of centaurs done the trick?
He had been out there for a week when James (and not just a house-elf to replenish his slurry, clean him up, and deal with his wastes) appeared, this time with a centaur in tow.
“You clearly haven’t learned your lessons about respect, brat. So I’ve come up with a different plan. You’re going to actually get pregnant this time, and you’re going to learn what it’s like to bear and lose a child.”
He blinked and wondered if the slurry had some potion additions in it to accomplish that. He’d had no idea it was even a thing for a potion to be able to make a male get pregnant.
“To that end I’ve withdrawn you from school,” James continued. “By contract, you are now the exclusive sexual property of this fine centaur here. He’s going to fuck you at least twice a day and get you with foal, which you will carry and bear, and wean. By the time you return to school you’ll be a lot older than the kids you attend third-year studies with. I hope you enjoy that humiliation, brat. Enjoy the next few years.” With that James walked away.
Harry blinked again.
“As your sire said, little mare,” the centaur said, “you belong to me now for the duration.”
The next thing Harry knew his arsehole was being invaded by an absolutely massive cock, one that made him choke on his slurry and moan in pain. The centaur used him ruthlessly, settling into a punishing rhythm, and Harry felt like, when the centaur came, he was being filled with ten times what a werewolf could manage.
In fact, the centaur used him three times a day, morning, afternoon, and evening.
Harry found he got used to that huge cock with suspicious quickness, and wondered if there was something about centaur cum that changed those who took it in. He was even getting aroused by being fucked by the centaur (and he rather wished he knew his name) and moaning in pleasure instead of pain.
If nothing else, he found he could not regret instigating another punishment on purpose.
He was going to miss as much as three years of schooling and have to start with thirteen year olds (he was certain he would be mocked relentlessly for it), but being fucked by this centaur, used as a brood mare? He was enjoying himself!
His stomach started to swell, he noticed, and he figured he had been successfully bred, which was both frightening and exciting. And he knew he could never go back to being fucked by werewolves or Fang. They simply weren’t big enough to satisfy him, his need to be fucked and bred.
There was definitely something in centaur cum.
Did they kidnap people who wandered off the beaten path to use as brood mares? He had never once seen any references to female centaurs, so…
“This is good, little mare,” the centaur said shortly after Harry realized he must be pregnant. “You shall bear my foal. In the meantime, I shall continue to use you in order to ensure the successful birthing of my foal, and your ability to feed him.”
Oh, well, that was good. He really liked being fucked by the centaur. He couldn’t imagine anything better, really. So he made a pleased noise as best he could, hoping the centaur would understand.
“Of course you are pleased, little mare. It is the way of things.”
Harry’s stomach just kept swelling, and he remained frightened and excited. He had no idea what giving birth would be like, not having the same equipment as a woman. Would giving birth completely ruin his arsehole? He was already fairly certain it was ruined for the purpose of being able to hold on until he could get to a toilet. The sheer size of the centaur’s cock would see to that, even if he wasn’t being fucked nearly as often.
The very fact that he felt no pain from being fucked, and felt no blood as he had at the start from the werewolves, told him there was no turning back on that score.
He was absolutely positive there was something in centaur cum that had changed his body to accommodate what was happening, and what would happen.
He was also old enough to properly enjoy things, as his own cock swelled into hardness every time the centaur fucked him, and every time the centaur pumped him full of cum, Harry came as well. It was an indescribable bliss, and the sensation lasted for as long as cum continued to shoot into his body.
He was just a tiny bit addicted to all of it.
Summer came and he was quite heavy with pregnancy. He would be fourteen soon, with no idea how long the pregnancy would last, or how long it would take for him to wean a foal.
It turned out to be terrifying when he began to give birth. This was no human child, it was a centaur foal, and that meant a very differently-shaped body, with hooves. The pain was so much that he disassociated from reality as his body worked hard to give birth.
What shocked him back to reality was two things. The first was a small foal sucking at his chest. He hadn’t even realized the flesh beneath his nipples had softened and swelled somewhat. The second was that the centaur was fucking him again already.
He stopped panicking the second he realized it didn’t hurt. If anything, being fucked again was soothing the trauma. He settled in to feed the foal (not that he had any say in the matter) and be fucked by that enormous cock.
Every day following was a repeat. The foal would suckle when it pleased, swapping nipples each time, and the centaur fucked him thrice daily, giving him so much pleasure. And, based on what the centaur had said, what was necessary to keep the foal healthy.
Harry had become quite accustomed to being called a “good little mare” by the centaur, and had begun to feel quite pleased to hear it. The foal, however, just ignored him unless he was hungry, instead spending the majority of his time with his sire, learning from him.
Eventually, it all changed.
“You have succeeded, little mare,” the centaur said one day. “My foal is weaned, and the contract is over. I shall inform your sire.”
He was left out there for the better part of the day before James arrived to release him from the restraints. Harry was mortified to realize he would have to crawl back to the house, because he was too unsteady to stand up and walk. James just snickered as he walked slowly enough to accompany him. “You’re sixteen now, brat. You’ll be returning to Hogwarts as a third year and be in for quite a bit of mockery. I’ve told everyone that you’ve been ill, of course, and are only now getting better enough to return, but I don’t see that stopping the other children from making fun of you for it. Let’s see if you can remember how to walk again, and eat like a human being, before you’re packed onto the train.”
He did, both. He was given third year books and set to studying, not because he wanted to or cared about any of it, but not doing so would make James angry. James had hit him—just the once, true—but even that one time meant his father could easily do so again, and again.
The train ride in was spent in silence, his head in a book. His meal, as packed by the house-elves, was flasks of that same slurry. James was clearly feeling malicious and cruel.
He had not spoken in three years, and no longer tried to, so he ignored every attempt by people talking to him, and continued to read.
On arrival he left his trunk behind and exited the train. He was lucky enough to score the very last carriage of the lot, and get it to himself. It was when the carriage drew near to the entrance to the forest on the way to the school grounds that he pushed open the door and jumped out to the ground, then darted away into the darkness.
He had centaurs to find.
Instead, he was found. Several centaurs came upon him, bows to hand, scowls upon their faces.
“What are you doing here, wizard child?” one demanded to know. “You intrude upon our territory. You will turn back or you will suffer the consequences.”
A fourth centaur arrived and said, “Hold. The little mare probably wants to be bred again.”
Harry brightened and nodded.
“If you’re that eager, little mare, I can breed you again. Or perhaps one of the others.”
“This is the mare?” the darkest-skinned one said. “Your foal’s dam?”
“It is. The little mare seemed to gain exceptional pleasure in being a brood mare. It’s no wonder he’s come looking for more once his sire sent him back to the school.”
“I shall breed him,” said the middle centaur of the original three. “He shall be my exclusive property until such time as he has birthed and weaned a foal, then another may breed him.”
Harry felt quite hopeful at that, and excited.
“Strip down, little mare. You have no need for human clothing here in the forest.”
He complied with alacrity, disrobing and discarding his clothing, along with his wand, and was delighted when he was swept up in the centaurs arms and hauled off.
“The little mare does not speak?”
“No, Aelzru. The mare’s sire kept his mouth silenced for near three years by use of a gag designed to deliver nutrition to him. The mare was kept chained in a stable and tended to daily by house-elves to ensure he did not starve, nor left filthy from the inevitability of releasing wastes.”
“Interesting.”
At least now Harry knew the name of his next stud. Some time later he saw they were approaching a settlement of sorts, and tried hard to make things out in the darkness.
“We shall have to construct a dwelling for the little mare, but for the moment he can use what is available,” Aelzru said as he was set down. “How often did you breed him per contract?”
“Thrice daily, all the way through to the weaning of the foal.”
“What say you, little mare?” Aelzru asked. “Are you expecting the same conditions as under the contract?”
He blinked and vaguely shrugged, gesturing toward the centaur instead, trying to convey that it was not his decision.
Aelzru nodded and began to give orders. A stable was to be constructed, temperature runes to be emplaced, and a collar and chain to be fashioned.
Harry figured he would not be able to leave the stable, but he would have more freedom of movement. James had chained his limbs in place, too, and the centaurs did not seem inclined to.
Aelzru then ordered for a feeding device to be made before gesturing at one of the quasi-tents lined with a bedding of soft grasses. “You will stay there for now, little mare. Do you require sustenance?”
He nodded slowly, then moved to nestle in the grasses.
One of the centaurs brought him a bowl filled with … something. He had no idea what, but ate it anyway, having to tip the bowl carefully to effectively drink what was within, and watched as one of the centaurs (all male!) seemed to do some sort of ritual.
He was surprised when a house-elf appeared and looked at its summoner attentively.
“Free elf, are you willing to take on the job of tending to this little mare? He will need replenishment of his feed once the feeding device is in place, removal of wastes, and cleaning.”
“Pippy would be happy to!”
“Good. You may assist in the building of his breeding stable if you wish. Once he is in place and actively being bred, you will attend to him.”
The elf nodded and scurried off to go help.
Harry set the bowl aside and laid down, drowsy, content, and excited. He drifted off to the sound of many centaurs bustling about.
The next morning he was woken by the elf and given a bowl of feed, which he carefully ingested, then led to a freshly-built stable. The elf put a metal collar around his neck and attached the study chain to a ring in the wall, then inserted the feeding device into his mouth and filled it. The elf nodded, snapped him clean, then wandered off again.
Aelzru arrived and quirked a brow at him, so Harry immediately got on all fours so he could be bred, moaning with pleasure as soon as that massive cock rammed into him, sucking on the feeding device and swallowing the slurry, already certain that his decision to leave wixen society behind was the right one. He was sure his life would be endless pleasure, interrupted only by the occasional terrifying experience of giving birth.
His arsehole had been so often used that it refused to close again, all the better to accept many more centaur cocks.
At Hogwarts there was some confusion. Many students reported that Harry Potter had been on the train, even that he refused to speak, but had vanished somewhere between the train station and the school.
Dumbledore was most put out and send off a patronus to James regarding the situation. What he got back was somewhat startling.
James’ patronus arrived and relayed, “Why are you bothering me with this? It’s of no consequence. He was a disrespectful child and not worthy to be my heir. If he’s vanished, good riddance. I shall simply find a new wife to breed an heir on,” before it disappeared.
The entire Great Hall went silent in shock that James Potter wouldn’t even care that his son and heir had gone missing.
Harry would never know, but that made James incredibly unpopular in Britain, and he was forced to find a wife on the continent, and a pure-blood wife at that, having decided that Lily’s muggle blood had been the problem in him ending up with a disrespectful, unworthy heir.
The temperature runes around his stable kept him cozily warm, despite the worsening of temperatures, and winter was just lovely to look at rather than feared due to him being naked in the middle of a Scottish winter. And when he wasn’t being fucked some of the centaurs were teaching him runes, or even how to carve various things, and how to tell if wood for carving was even sound to work on. It made him happy he was being given tasks to contribute to the herd beyond being bred to increase their number.
He was pregnant again when he noticed a lot of extra movement in the settlement, and much discussion.
“Little mare,” Aelzru said one morning before he was fucked, “one of the wizards, Hagrid, has been oft spotted in the forest, seeming to search for something. We are creating a new settlement much farther away from the humans. When it is complete we will be moving you there so you and the foal you carry are kept safe.”
His eyes went wide, but he nodded, feeling both worried about the search and trustful that he would be kept safe and taken care of, then got into position for his stud to fuck him. His moans of pleasure made it very clear to everyone within hearing distance that he loved being a brood mare, which would hopefully mean all of them would breed foals on him, and keep doing so.
A week later, before being fucked that morning, the chain was detached from the stable wall and he was swept up carefully and hauled off. He realized just how chilly it was away from his stable and shivered the entire way until he was deposited in a new stable and the chain attached to the wall.
Aelzru then set to fucking him, which warmed him up quite nicely along with the temperature runes, and he soon forgot about the shivery journey deeper into the forest, though he did wonder if the original settlement would be completely broken down so as to leave no traces of it having existed.
It almost felt like too soon that he had not only given birth (a repeat terrifying experience), but had weaned the foal. Tharion became his new stud and set to breeding him, which made Harry very happy. He had become quite proficient at runes and carving, and felt proud he could contribute to the herd in other ways.
His only real discontent was that his arsehole gaped so wide that he sometimes got grasses inside him, but the elf took care of that. The elf had decided, after some time of tending to him, to direct him to kneel over a chamber pot of sorts every two hours, at which point it would snap its fingers and any the wastes would rush out of him.
It meant none of his bedding got soiled, nor himself.
How interesting that a free elf was more solicitous of that necessity than James’ house-elf. Then again, James had probably instructed that elf to always wait until Harry had made a mess of things, just to add to the shame and humiliation factor.
He could only hope James suffered an unfortunate accident. James did inadvertently lead him to a new life, one he absolutely adored, but still … to at some point learn his sire had died a humiliating death? That would be wonderful.
Everyone in the herd was so nice to him, always fondly calling him “little mare” even as he grew further into adulthood, and even the foals he had borne treated him kindly once they realized his importance and his part in them existing.
He did learn that many of the mares they had used in the past were not so happy to be mares. He couldn’t imagine why. His life was fantastic! Maybe that was part of why the herd seemed so fond of him? That he loved being their brood mare, always obeyed any orders, and happily learned what they taught him?
After Tharion it was Orvek, then Kaedron and Xandros and Makuth.
He had borne seven foals already! And he looked forward to bearing many, many more. If he never saw another wix it would be too soon. He intended to bear foals until his body was no longer young enough to do so, and to die in this forest, cherished and appreciated.
And then Bane approached, his new stud, and Harry got into position so he could feel another incredible cock inside him, and a soon to be new foal growing within him.
