This is a Harry Potter-themed squicky fan/TG/slash/lemon/fic. There will be plot. There will be transgender stuffs. There will be underage stuffs. There will be pairings of various genders. They may even be non-con or bestial bits. Consider yourself warned.
I don't intend to write canon characters. If, however, you wish to see canon characters included, I will respond positively to suggestions :) I am open to requests regarding kinks, characters and pairings. I do have an overall plot in mind, but I am open to requests and suggestions regarding subplots, plot additions and other events you would like included.
I also am very open to criticisms (as long as they're worded nicely), other suggestions and general feedback. Please feel very free to email me with whatever you wish!
queerbottom@yahoo.com
Hogwarts Nights, Chapter One.
This story is primarily about magical gender transformation and underage relationships in the Harry Potter universe. The timeline is aimed roughly a year or two after the final battle at Hogwarts. I'm not going to be clinging strictly to Canon, however, but if I make any obvious mistakes please feel free to let me know.
William Lell ran along the street as fast as he could, his lined face a mask of desperation as he frantically pumped his legs. He careened off one of the parked cars, managing to use the impact to redirect his headlong flight down one of the side streets, although he now ran with a limp.
Blood pounded in his ears, and he was seeing spots now, lungs heaving as his middle-aged body struggled to keep up with the demands he was putting on it. Slightly overweight, definitely under-exercised, and, he had to admit, old, he was as much worried about the strain on his heart as he was...
At that point his rather hysterical thoughts were derailed by the whump as a spell hit the car he'd bounced off, glass cascading out as the roof and the boot folded in, rather like a giant had chopped the car with the edge of a huge hand. The surge of adrenaline made his heart falter dangerously, but it managed to spur him on again, unable to feel the bruised knee any more.
The thing that finally slowed him down was the hiss of a black cloud as it shot past him, then touched down onto the tar a little way ahead, spiralling up to form a figure in black hood and robes, a skeletal mask covering the face. The Deatheater laughed, then negligently flicked a lightly grasped wand at him. He felt his legs and arms abruptly drawn into his body, his hip and shoulder slamming into the sidewalk as he fell, his momentum tumbling him onto his back where he stared helplessly at the sky.
"For too long you have defended these wretched creatures, these muggles and mud bloods," the figure hissed as it loomed over him, eclipsing his view of the grey clouds. It drew out the last two words with a malevolent pleasure, then glanced up as the sentence was punctuated with a scream. William managed to look left, unable to turn his head, just able to see the struggling figures out of the corner of his eye.
A woman in her thirties, a man slightly older, and a young girl in her teens. They were foreigners, accents thick on their tongues and a foreign language merged in as they gabbled desperately at the shrouded figures surrounding them, stumbling as they were dragged out by shimmering spell lines, like magical lassoes.
William just stared, cold shock suffusing him, stripping away all emotion, as three green flashes briefly lit the street. The three bodies slumped lifelessly to the ground, lives snuffed in a harsh, brutal moment of fear. The closest figure snorted with satisfaction, then leaned over him again.
"The world is a little bit cleaner... but nothing so quick for you, I think. There's something special I found, a spell that doesn't kill, it just... separates the soul, the essence, from the body and sets it free to roam unendingly. I found it in a book taken from Hogwarts when the Dark Lord was murdered..."
"Murdered? He was put down like the rabid dog he was!" Anger, horror, hatred, a surge of emotion flooding through William, enough to drive back the spell binding him so that he could speak. The figure jerked back in surprise, then leaned in again, raising the wand once more.
"Those, then, can be your last words. This is a great pleasure for me, William. Isolas Kavadre!"
A purple flash this time, sickly and pale, filling his eyes and then sinking into him. He felt a wrenching, as if every muscle in his body was severed at the same moment, but without the associated pain. As the flash cleared he felt himself rise, the feeling putting him in mind of a zepplin, weightless and ponderous.
It took a mere effort of will to make himself drift sideways, turning in the air, rolling until he could see his own body, lying slack on the ground. There was no emotion at the sight, no shock... he felt free, somehow, but lost at the same time, and uncaring about either state.
Emotion returned as his slow roll brought the nearby bodies into view. He caused himself to drift over to them, hovering above them, gazing down at their lifeless, staring faces. A woman, beautiful and graceful, even in death. A man, stern and neatly groomed. A girl, barely thirteen, pretty and soft...
There was a faint tugging, drawing at his invisible essence, from all three bodies. It was like three magnets, dragging at him, pulling at the psychic equivalent of metal in his ethereal nature. Panicking he tried to move away, but it was like swimming against the tide, dragging him back towards them. There was the briefest moment of a sort of tug of war, as all three bodies pulled at him, and then he was abruptly yanked into the younger body.
Pain returned, the ache of lungs as they dragged in air, the bruising of the fall to the road on flesh that was much more sensitive than his previous body, the screaming of every cell in his body for nutriants, movement, the pulse of life. He felt his heart start, the lungs convulse, the muscles arch.
And then, as the cracks of Ministry agents finally apparating filled the street, blackness tinged with red. His conciousness fled, and the girl slumped back to the road, senseless, scraped and bleeding... but breathing.
The caress of cool sheets woke him up with a bit of a shock... the sensations were again more intense than he could remember for a long time, almost electric. He shifted and three things were immediately, almost shockingly evident... the first was that his chest and hips felt somehow 'padded', bulkier relative to his movement. The second, that he was naked underneath the covers. The third, massively overwhelming the other two, was a sharp reminder of how sensitive his new form now was.
The movement of the cloth over his form sent powerful shocks through him, at first a simple sensation overload, and then undeniably sensual surges racing from his nipples and hips and thighs. He gasped, and shuddered, eyes flying open to stare at a white ceiling in bewilderment. Warmth suffused the otherwise strange sensations between his legs, and he felt a flush rise on his cheeks.
He glanced to the left and right, and then down... the view he'd normally have down his chest to his swelling paunch had changed... now he was looking down at two white mounds, the sheet lifted by what were undeniably small but distinct breasts. The mounds were pointed now, the thin sheets lifted a bit further as his new nipples responded to the caress of the material.
Movement to his right made him jump again, and his head snapped right to look. The shock washed away the sexual surge, leaving behind a deep ache in his muscles, and a heavy weakness. He found himself staring at a stern, rather stocky woman in nurses whites, and he was rather relieved to see the familiar insigna of the Ministry of Magic's medical wing pinned to her substantial bosom.
He cleared his throat, and tried to speak.
"Where... where am..."
His voice trailed away as he heard himself. Soft, high-pitched, distinctly feminine. He cleared his throat again.
"Where am I? What... what happened?"
They were cliches, of course, but applicable under the circumstances. The realisation of what had happened was slowly climbing across his fogged mind, and the strong underpinnings of his training and experiences as a Ministry agent, an Auror, were starting to kick in. He knew that the Deatheaters would be looking for him, if they thought he'd survived in any way. He knew... or at least could make an educated guess... that it would be impossible to tell that it was really him inside this poor girl's body. And he knew that the Ministry was still infiltrated by Deatheater agents. If he was going to hide, it had to be from this moment.
The woman's stern expression softened as she looked down at the young girl.
"It's okay dearie, you're safe. You're in the Ministry medical ward."
She spoke as if the girl should know what that is, so William relaxed a little more. At least he didn't have to pretend to be a muggle... the girl must be a mixed blood then. The nurse hesitated, clearly warring with herself as to how much she should say. William immediately felt compelled to take pity on her.
"It's... it's okay. I know." He said, still hesitant at the soft voice he heard as his own lips moved.
"My... my parents... I mean, I remember the... attack. I don't... I don't remember anything from before the attack. Everything is a blank until I was being dragged outside and then..."
He hesitated. The Deatheaters had been after him because he'd discovered several of their moles within the Ministry. Here, at least, was a chance for a bit of revenge that would also leave the moles wondering.
"I remember a man... an older man... he shouted some names as they c...cursed him."
The slight hesitation was a touch he was proud of. The Auror within him was in control now, the rigid mental lock that had made him such a reliable agent now guiding his every step, smoothing away the vestigial shock and outlining goals and plans. The nurse responded predictably, tensing at the words, making some soothing platitudes, then rushing out.
It was less than ten minutes before a portly figure appeared through the door, breathing heavily from having run through the teeming corridors. William had spent the time testing his new body, lifting his arms and bending his legs slightly, trying to get an idea of his new strength as well as get used to the new sensitivity. He could hear sounds from outside, the clatter of the busy wards, with a precision he was sure his old ears would never have managed. He recognised the figure, of course, as it was his old boss; Reginald O'Mare, head of the Ministry's Internal Affairs department.
"Rebecca," the man began. Willian stared blankly for a moment before he realised it must be the body's name. The damage was done, however, as Reginald looked uncertainly at the nurse who'd followed him back in.
"She has had some memory loss, we're not sure how much," the woman said helpfully. Reginald frowned, but William was unable to hide a smile. The suggested memory loss might actually be useful.
"I don't remember anything before, um... the attack." He was getting used to the voice already. Habits built into the body gave it the correct modulation as he spoke.
"I just... the first thing I remember is being dragged outside. I remember my parents killed... I remember who they are, but I don't remember anything about them now... and then I remember the man. He shouted three names."
William tried to keep his new voice calm as he said the names, although he was buoyant inside. The names had been the result of a lot of very difficult, very dangerous work, and the reaction on the face of the older man was gratifying. He turned pale, reaching out to brace himself against the bed.
"No," he muttered. "No, it cannot... are you sure?"
William nodded, feeling long hair brush his cheek from the action. Of course, he had long hair now. The man smiled weakly, staring into space as he muttered to himself.
"So... so it is. There will be a reckoning, to be sure. But... that means there is someone in Hogwarts as well, because... but how to tell who it is."
The comment struck home. At least one of the moles had been recommended by Hogwarts, William knew that much, so the school must be infiltrated as well. This could be the break they were looking for, the link back to the core Deatheater cell. He had to be a part of this.
"I could... um, I mean, can I... I want to help," he said. The man turned to stare at him.
"I know they... killed my parents. I mean I have to go to Hogwarts, right? So I could... look around, report things back to you? Like... like a secret agent? I really want to."
The man shook his head.
"You were home-schooled, Rebecca," he said. "Your parents didn't want you to go there after the... battle. I'm sorry, we'll have to find a foster home for you, and arrange for tutoring..."
William interrupted him, grabbing his hand... inwardly horrified at how weak his new grip was, but burying it under the urgent stare he was directing at the man.
"No. Please. I need this. I have to... have to be a part of this. I will do whatever is needed, whatever you want, I'll be careful, I'll follow the rules, just... please, there are people dying, people like my parents, and your man. This will... it will help me, and it will help everyone else. Please."
The man was clearly taken-aback at the forceful urgency in William's voice, and it was clear that the idea appealed to him. Nobody was likely to suspect one of the students as being a hidden agent. He stared at the young girl thoughtfully, and then answered slowly.
"It would be easier to have Hogwarts take you for now. And I suppose you could keep an eye out, report anything strange. You are not an agent, however, do you understand? No poking about, no snooping, no making accusations. You see or hear anything strange, you contact me and me alone, otherwise everything will be as usual."
William nodded quickly, unable to hide a much bigger smile. Reginald turned to look at the nurse.
"Is she... okay? Well, I mean? Physically?"
The nurse nodded, eyeing William uncertainly.
"Physically she is fine... a bit bruised, weakened, but nothing a bit more sleep and a good feed won't cure. Whatever the curse was, it didn't seem to do any lasting damage."
Reginald nodded, clearly satisfied. He stood, clapped his hands together, and strode towards the door, talking over his shoulder as he tramped out.
"The Ministry will arrange for everything, the disposal of your belongings and whatnot. As far as anyone knows, you died in the attack. You'll have a new surname, and the Ministry will provide for your financial needs. The train leaves in a week, we'll help you get to the station in time. Between now and then you must stay out of sight, understood? We already found as many of your clothes as possible, they're in a suitcase underneath your bed. The rest of your belongings are, I'm afraid, locked in your home... you won't be able to go back there, it'll be watched. We'll be in touch. Get some rest."
He strode out almost before he finished talking. The nurse hesitated, smiled weakly at William, and then scurried out after him.
William lay back and closed his eyes.
It was dark when he awoke. The wards had settled into the silence of night-time duty shifts, a sort of gentle silence with the comforting feeling of benevolent eyes. William pushed the sheets, shivered as the cold air hit his exposed skin, then padded naked over to the long mirror that covered the nearby cupboard door.
A very pretty face looked back at him. Big eyes, cupid's-bow lips, pale high cheekbones, a narrow chin and masses of dark, slightly-curly hair sat on top of a slender neck and straight shoulders. The girl in the mirror's breasts were small and high, surprisingly large for the age she appeared to be, but still with some way to grow.
A pleasingly flat stomach led to surprisingly wide hips. The promise in the pubescent bosom was matched by a very hippy figure, hilighted by the narrow waist and long, coltish legs. The mound between the thighs was small and smoothly hairless, as was the rest of the body. He turned to view the profile, and the curvy shape was matched there too, the small, jutting breasts balanced by a plump, rounded, larger-than-ideal bottom.
He sighed, trying to push away the inevitable thoughts the sight of the nubile shape awoke in his very male psyche. He forced himself to turn away, padding back to the bed in his bare feet and bending to drag the suitcase out. Someone had packed it neatly, neatly folded piles of shirts, pants, skirts, underwear and accessories. A battered bag beside the case held a selection of shoes.
And there, in a neat sheath along the side of the case, was exactly what he was looking for. The girl's wand, a delicate length of dark wood that settled comfortably into his hand. He waved it briefly, testingly, and then set it onto the bed and picked up the small handbag that had also been squeezed in to the corner of the case. A small purse held an acceptable handful of coins, and there was a small pack of barely-used cosmetics... probably her first experimental attempts... and a comb.
He bent to rummage through the clothes, pulling out anything that was dark in colour and laying it on the bed. Shoving the case back under the bed, he bent again to pull on the panties he'd selected... and then had to brace himself against the bed again. The soft cloth, sliding over his smooth flesh and settling against his nether regions, had been almost dizzyingly sensual, erotic warmth rippling through him at the touch against his sensitive new body parts.
He had to take a moment to catch his breath before he pulled on the rest of his clothes, dark jeans and a dark blue top with a grey hoody over the top. The sneakers he'd chosen were originally white, but age and irregular cleaning had turned them a sort of muddy grey. The coins went into one pocked, the wand sheath tied to his arm under the hoody sleeve, and he was ready.
As an afterthought he darted back to scribble a note on some paper he found in a drawer beside the bed.
'Gone to clear my head with a walk around the building. I'll be careful. Be back soon.'
He leaned out to check the corridor, long hair a brief distraction as it brushed his cheek, then he stepped out into the silence and walked purposefully down to the elevators at the end. The nurse was presumably on her rounds... the duty station was empty, and he could hear soft footsteps from the far end of the other corridor.
Once he was in the elevator it was easy... he'd been working in the building for twenty five years, and he knew every odd back-passage and hidden entrance possible. A quick nip down a dark corridor, a push through some old boxes, and here was one of the emergency exits, pressing through the wall like it was not there. It was a one-way portal similar to the one that led to the Hogwarts Express platform.
It was while he was walking down the dark corridor that he realised what was bugging him... it was the way the body walked. While he was concentrating he could override it, and no doubt walked in a rather mannish way. As soon as he let the body's instincts take over, however, it felt rather odd... the female pelvis, the arch of the girl's healthy posture, and what were presumably her original habits turned the walk into a rather wiggly sway, almost as if she was wearing high heels. The broad hips the body was saddled with would make the walk rather slutty.
He tried to banish the thought from his head as he pushed through the secret exit, emerging into a dark, box-filled alley on the side of the building. He sighed, leaned back against the wall, and held out his new wand. A distant humming turned into a whoosh of air and the knight bus crashed into the alley, boxes cascading out of the way.
William trotted up the stairs of the bus, ostensibly ignoring the leering gaze of the pimply young man, probably around sixteen years old, acting as the conducto,r and dropping a handful of copper coins into the driver's tray, before settling into the chair. In truth he could almost feel the eyes of the boy, examining his new pretty face and then dropping to the damnably tight jeans as they clung to his hips and bottom. He thought he'd be annoyed or revulsed by the blatant leering, but the tight clothes had been moving against him as he'd walked through the Ministry, and the movements together with the feel of his new body had made him rather flushed again. It was certainly an effort to keep his head clear.
"Number Seventeen Endelbert street, please," he called to the driver, and braced himself as the bus shot away and into the maelstrom of London's nighttime traffic, plunging through impossibly narrow gaps and hurtling over curbs and through intersections. The conductor's stare was fixed on him the whole way, and it was inevitable that he would eventually look up, meet the boy's eyes, and flash a smile that was, in retrospect, rather too warm.
Blushing hotly, he avoided the boy's gaze for the rest of the journey while his inner agent yelled at him for the loss of control. The bus finally crashed to a halt in the deserted lane, and he rose and headed to the front, pushing past the boy to head down the stairs to the street. He immediately felt a hand cup his bottom, warm even through the jeans, settling there to give it a good firm squeeze as he pushed past, then darting away. He hesitated for the briefest moment, emotions warring through him... the agent training demanding that he simply ignore it, the rather prudish side of his original personality demanding that he react with outrage.
It was the sensations of his new body, the arousal from the shifting of clothes against him, and the definite sexual overtones of the grope that overrode his response. He paused, let his eyes lift to glance at the boy, flashed him another smile, and then gracefully descended the rest of the stairs before turning to smile again and give a little wave. The boy mock-swooned as the bus pulled away, and William was horrified to hear himself give a girlish giggle.
He sighed, shook his head, and then turned to face a house at the end of the street. Small, unremarkable, dark and silent, it didn't seem to have any worthwhile characteristics about it. It was his own house, however... William's house, that is, not Rebecca's house. It was hidden behind a Fidelius charm, as most Auror houses were, so he was assured that no Deatheaters were watching it.
A second Fidelius charm covered the spare key tucked into a little notch in one of the window sills. He pushed open the door and trotted confidently through the darkness. His first stop was to pick up a rather modern-looking muggle backpack, sturdy and reliable. The bag was soon filled with a smaller bag of money... his stash of cash for emergencies... some enchanted items he had come to rely on, and a pile of notes on his undercover work up til that point. He'd have to anonymously mail them to the Ministry, an uncomfortable loose end, but he couldn't think of a more graceful way to get them into Reginald's hands.
It was about two hours later. He'd found a magical postbox and posted the notes, then summoned the bus again. The conductor had been very pleased to see him, and his bottom had been groped twice by the boy, once as he'd climbed onto the bus and again as he'd climbed off at the Ministry entrance. He was still trying to convince himself that he hadn't stood still to let it happen, although he'd given up on the idea of acting outraged.
He'd simply walked in the front entrance of the Ministry, told the guard that he was expected up on the medical wing, and headed for the elevator after assuring the man that he knew where he was going. He was always amused by how a confident and friendly approach was good for getting into most 'secure' buildings, although he was developing a new respect for how much a pretty face and a sweet smile could add.
The ward was still dark and quiet, and he had more than enough time to stow bag, money and items into Rebecca's suitcase before the nurse appeared, seemingly unfussed.
"There you are, dearie. Did you have a nice walk? Feeling better? You need to let us know next time, love. We were a bit flustered until we found your note. It isn't really safe to wander around the building alone."
William just smiled noncomittally as the woman chattered on, then finally managed to escape into the ward bathroom for a bath.
The hot water and slick soap were new levels of intense sensation in the new body, and William was squirming and breathing hard by the time he'd finished cleaning himself. Finally it was time to head back to his room, climb into a rather skimpy nightie, and clamber back into bed for another long sleep, once he'd managed to banish a number of impure thoughts from his head.
The next few days were a comfortable cycle. The ward food wasn't bad, Reginald's visits were infrequent but pleasant as he chatted about the Hogwarts staff and suggested some things to look out for... things William had already thought of, of course, but he played the young girl dutifully... and he even managed to get a relatively unsupervised visit to Diagon alley to pick up his Hogwarts items.
He discovered that Rebecca's birthday was in the middle of the school year, so to play it safe the Ministry had decided to put him in his second year at the school... home tutoring being rather unreliable to compare to the school syllabus. It suited him fine... he'd be able to practically sleep through classes, leaving him more time to snoop about as needed.
The final day was rather more nervewracking. Packing and heading out with Reginald was simple enough, but this was his first real interaction with people of his new age. It had been easy enough to avoid them in Diagon alley, but now he was expected to interact with them. It was, at least, unlikely that any were already friends of Rebecca... she'd moved to England from somewhere in Europe during the Voldemort crisis, and the family had been rather isolationist since then.
Reginald left him near the entrance to the station, watching as he crossed into the building. It was easy enough to slip onto the Hogwarts platform, even with the now heavy suitcase to lug around, but from that moment his challenges started. The first challenge was from a slip that, almost literally, came back to bite him in the ass.
Rebecca had apparently been a fan of tight clothing, possibly the onset of her initial teenage rebellion. Her jeans all seemed to be painted on, her shirts all clung to her body, and her skirts were all either snug or short. Tired of the distractingly clingy caress of the tight jeans, William had settled on a short skirt... and was already regretting the choice. Not only was it cold, but he was feeling very exposed, especially since he'd equally unwisely chosen a rather skimpy pair of panties that were also a little too small. As a result they kept on riding up over his broad hips and vanishing into the crevice of his rear.
The cold and exposure was abruptly brought home when a warm hand slipped under the hem of his skirt and lifted to settle onto the bare curve of his ass. The heat and intimacy of the contact sent a surge through him that froze him in place, rather than send him into an indignant spin, and then the correct moment to respond was missed... no matter what he did now, it would seem like he originally approved of the grope, and was now just protesting for forms sake.
He turned and looked up into the face of the conductor, who grinned laciviously, his hand still nestling on William's bottom.
"'ello darlin'," he grinned, then turned to chuckle at some other teens who were standing nearby, watching with their own leering grins.
"See, told you she was a sport!" he laughed, their laughs echoing his. William definitely couldn't make a scene now... it would draw far too much attention, raise questions about his nocturnal journey, and generally unravel everything. He settled for simply stepping away from the invading hand, but this too turned out to be a bit of a mistake... the boy raised his hand as he stepped away, briefly lifting the skirt. With the panties having been 'eaten' by his rounded rear, the view was far too easy to mistake, and one of the boys commented accordingly.
"Oi, she's goin' commando. Sport is right!"
The chuckles had a definitely dirty edge to them as William turned bright red and hurriedly pushed the trolley with his case away, heading for the baggage section of the train. There, at least, the attention was useful. The boys chased after, chuckling and passing comments to each other, and 'gentlemanly' helped with the case, getting it on the train and settled. William tried to fob them off with a curt thankyou, avoiding their pleas to 'g'a kiss luv', and escaped onto the train.
The truth, a truth he was desperately trying to hide, especially to himself, was that the caress had inflamed him somewhat. He was feeling an uncomfortable dampness between his legs, a sensation he was still unused to, and more heat travelling through his lower regions.
This might have been why he didn't protest too much when two of the boys followed him into the carriage he'd found, pushing the door shut behind them and locking it, then pulling down the blinds on the corridor-facing windows. The train shuddered as it blew the final whistle and then pulled away, the boys sitting on the bench facing him, grinning at him.
"So, darlin'" the one said. "I reckon you're a sport. I also reckon you weren't supposed to be runnin' about outside the Ministry at midnight. That's fine, though... my friend and I like to keep secrets. Long as they're secrets from people who are... nice to us."
The other boy nodded enthusiastically, chuckling. William's mind raced, but he couldn't see any other way past the same problem... the boy could unravel his story with one comment to the wrong person. Besides, it wasn't like it would be the worst thing he'd ever done in the course of his duty.
Part of him realised that these were largly excuses. The truth was that, after the unintentional teasing he'd been doing to himself with the sensitivity of this body, he really really wanted to do something sexual with it. He was aching for it, and here was both opportunity and moral excuse. He nodded.
"Okay. What... what do you want me to do?"
"Well, luv... we believe in good, obedient Hogwarts students. You better be gettin' into yer uniform. To do that, yer gonna have to get undressed."
The implicit instruction hung in the air. William nodded again, heart pounding, breath quickening. He stood up, kicking off his sneakers, and then hooked his thumbs into the hem of his skirt and into the band of his panties. Both came off easily, although the panties stuck slightly. It was quick enough, however, especially as he bent, that it still looked like he hadn't been wearing any panties.
He crossed his arms next, taking hold of both hoody and shirt, and pulled them swiftly over his head, then dropped them on the floor, leaving his pale, smooth body bared to the boy's gaze. It was almost surreal, the noise of the students clattering past outside, the stares of the boys, his exposure in this wonderful body. The pair had clearly not expected to get this far this quickly, and they didn't seem to know what to do next. William had to take control.
"If I'm nice to you now, then you keep all my secrets," he said, stepping over to the boys and kneeling before them.
"If you break the secret, then I'll be... very mean. There's all sorts of stories I can tell, stories with tears on my face, that will get you into a lot of trouble... understand?"
The two nodded as one, one of them swallowing. William grinned, then reached out for the closest one's pants, undoing the buckles and reaching inside to find the boy's length. The boy immediately leaned back, legs spreading, his already rock-hard shaft poking out.
"You'll find that I can be very, very nice then. To those who keep my secrets," William said softly, then bent forward. His soft lips settled on the head of the boy's shaft, then spread around it, taking the hard member deep into his mouth. It was an action that his previous self couldn't imagine even considering, let alone doing, but at this moment it felt so easy, so natural, and so arousing, that his current form couldn't imagine stopping.
It didn't take long, his head bobbing for quick seconds before the boy exploded into his mouth. The taste was a lot more pleasant than he imagined, and he knew enough about his own previous anatomy that the warning signs were easy to spot, so he wasn't taken by surprise. He swallowed easily, then shifted to one side... the other boy had taken his cock out already, so he sank his mouth over it and bobbed his head even more enthusiastically until another wave of cum filled his mouth.
The sensations, the sounds, the knowledge of what he was doing, was all too much. He fell back against the seat behind him, one hand sliding down, fumbling briefly as it didn't find what it expected... and then adapting, stroking over the wet folds it found, pressing in to find the engorged focus of pleasure and strumming it frantically. Female moans of pleasure quickly filled the carriage, then turned into gasps as cascading waves of orgasm washed over him in a way he could never have imagined.
He slumped to the floor, gasping and quivering, drained and dizzy. The two boys had clearly enjoyed the show, whooping and shaking hands with each other as William came, then laughing as one of them whispered to the other. Before William was really in touch with what was happening they'd pulled down his suitcase and opened it, then pulled out all of his panties, one dipping quickly to grab the pair in his pile of clothes on the floor.
"We'll keep these as trophies, as a promise, right? A good sport like you don't need none anyway."
They chuckled again, stuffing the soft scraps into their pockets, then ducked out of the carriage before William had enough of a presence of mind to protest. He barely had enough sense to lock the door again behind them, before he wearily packed his clothes away and pulled on his uniform.
His bare nethers, still chill with his drying juices, was a permanent reminder of what had happened, as was the taste in his mouth and the faint stickiness on his chin and breasts where some of the cum had spilled. As a result he was almost squirming again when the train finally arrived at the school, the clatter of the disembarking students abruptly loud in the silence of the halted train.
queerbottom@yahoo.com