Morning

Harry woke to silence. No shrill screams from Aunt Petunia, no heavy stomping from Vernon, no greasy oinking from Dudley. Only a thick, heavy silence hung over the house, saturated with a new, sweetly musky scent—something animal, wet, and lustful. His scrawny body still ached from the night’s ritual, but between his legs stood a hard, throbbing erection—the first real, heavy cock of his life. The Lust Book of Slytherin lay beside him, warm, as if satisfied.

He quickly pulled on his clothes, splashed cold water on his face, and made his way downstairs. His heart pounded with anticipation.

In the living room, on the large sofa that had once been the sacred altar of the Dursleys’ perfect white family, she sat.

Aunt Petunia Dursley was no longer the gaunt, long-necked, bony blonde with perpetually pursed lips. The Nymphara Matrona ritual had done its dirty, magnificent work.

Before Harry stood a true hyper-sexualized MILF nymphomaniac. Her body had bloomed into an ****, caricatured hyperbole of lust. Massive, heavy jiggly milk-tits, each the size of a football, swayed and slapped against each other with every movement—pale, milky-white skin with thick, dark nipples, already rock-hard and dripping with milk. Her once-flat stomach was now soft and plump, her wide, child-bearing hips flowing into an incredible, marshmallowy ass-meat—two giant, trembling hemispheres of fat, soft, jiggling flesh that spilled over the sofa like dough. Her thick thighs jiggled with the slightest movement, and between them glistened a constantly dripping, plump, pink pussy—swollen, engorged labia parted, her clit jutting out like a tiny cock, while thick, sweet, translucent pussy juice endlessly dripped from her hole, trickling down her inner thighs and forming a wet stain on the sofa.

Petunia sat with her legs spread wide, one hand furiously fingering her new, insatiable cunt. Three thick fingers squelched in and out—SCHLORP… SCHLORP… SCHLORP—from her sloppy pussy, while her other hand deep-throated a massive, veiny, flesh-colored dildo. The dildo was monstrous—thick as Harry’s wrist, with bulging veins and a huge mushroom head. Petunia sucked it greedily, like a starving slut, her long neck now perfect for deepthroat, her throat visibly bulging each time she swallowed the dildo nearly to the base.

— Mmmphhh… Gluck… Gluck-gluck-gluck… ♥ — Wet, sloppy sounds filled the living room. Drool streamed down her chin, dripping onto her swaying tits, mixing with the milk already seeping from her nipples.

Harry froze in the doorway, his scrawny cock instantly hardening, straining against his pants. The contrast was staggering: he—a skinny, dark-haired, bespectacled freak—and before him, the former icy, arrogant aunt, now transformed into a brainless, cock-hungry white MILF bimbo.

Petunia opened her eyes. Her once-cold, contemptuous gaze was now clouded with lust—dilated pupils, flushed cheeks. She slowly pulled the dildo from her mouth with a loud POP, a long string of saliva stretching from her plump lips to the wet head.

— Harry… oh God, Harry… — Her voice was hoarse, trembling, nothing like the one he’d heard all his life. — I… I can’t stop… My pussy… it burns… it’s so empty…

She continued to finger herself furiously, SCHLORP-SCHLORP-SCHLORP, her hips trembling, her massive, jiggling ass-meat rippling in waves. Her inner thoughts crumbled before his eyes:

"This is wrong… I’m married… I’ve always hated this boy… Why am I dripping like a cheap whore? Why do I want… him?"

But her body was already betraying her mind. She unconsciously spread her legs even wider, presenting her fat, dripping pussy directly to her nephew’s view. Harry slowly stepped closer. His voice came out low, with a new, dark confidence gifted by the book:

— Look at yourself, Aunt Petunia. All your life, you’ve been a skinny, bitter bitch who despised me. And now? Huge cow tits, a fat slut ass, and a pussy that drips on the floor at the mere sight of me. You’re a true white breeding bitch now.

Petunia moaned loudly, her fingers quickening. PLAP-PLAP-PLAP—her palm slapped against her wet labia. Her mind screamed:

"No… I’m not… I’m not like this… But… fuck, it feels so good… His voice… why does it turn me on so much?"

She looked up at Harry, her eyes glistening with tears of shame and arousal.

— Please… — she whispered, her voice breaking. — I don’t know what’s happening to me… That book… the ritual… I feel so dirty… so empty… Help me, Harry… I… I need…

Harry stood directly in front of her, unzipped his pants. His cock sprang free—already noticeably thicker and longer than it had been yesterday, thanks to the book’s power. Petunia gasped, her eyes widening with animal hunger. She instinctively licked her lips.

— This… this is what you need now, Aunt. Not your pathetic Vernon with his stubby neck and tiny dick. A real cock. Mine.

He grabbed her by the long, now-perfect-for-gripping neck and slowly but insistently pulled her face toward his erection. Petunia resisted for only a second—her inner conflict flared and then died beneath a wave of new, slavish lust.

— Gluck… mmmphhh… — She greedily swallowed his cock. Her plump lips stretched, her throat bulged, her long neck perfectly molding to the shape of his shaft. SCHLORP… GLUCK-GLUCK-GLUCK—wet, sloppy sounds filled the room.

Harry groaned, gripping her blonde hair. The contrast was perfect: his skinny, dark body and her hyper-white, hyper-fat, trembling MILF body, which now existed only to suck and fuck.

Petunia fingered herself with one hand even faster, the other massaging her huge, swaying tits, squeezing out milk. Her thoughts finally drowned:

"I’m a slut… I’m a breeding cow… Harry… my nephew… his cock… so delicious… so right… Vernon is nothing… I want Harry to fuck me… break me… make me his forever…"

Harry thrust deeper, fucking her throat with wet GLUCK-GLUCK-GLUCK sounds, until drool and milk from her tits mixed into a filthy, glistening mess on her face and chest.

— Good slut aunt, — he growled, feeling the new power surging through him. — Suck harder. Soon your pig husband and son will wake up. And you’ll show them who the real mistress of the house is… or rather, who the real master is.

Petunia only moaned in response, her eyes rolling back, her pussy squirting another burst of juices onto the floor. SQUISH… SPLURT…

Her mind finally shattered. The former prim, racist, arrogant Petunia Dursley was transforming into a brainless, cock-worshipping white MILF bimbo right before Harry’s eyes.

Harry slowly stepped closer, his scrawny, thin body sharply contrasting with Petunia’s hyper-feminine, sprawled figure sinking into the sofa. Her massive, heavy jiggly milk-tits, each the size of a melon, swayed and slapped against each other, her thick, dark nipples oozing milk. Her marshmallowy ass-meat spread across the sofa in two trembling mountains of soft, white fat, and between her widely splayed thick thighs, her fat, swollen pussy glistened and dripped—pink labia shining with thick juices. Petunia looked up at him, her eyes hazy with lust, her long neck stretched, her plump lips parted and glistening with saliva. She still held the massive, veiny dildo in her hand, but her gaze was now fixed on one thing—her nephew’s cock.

— Harry… please… — she whispered in a trembling voice, but her body was already betraying her. Her hips spread wider on their own, her pussy squelched wetly—SCHLORP—as she clenched her thighs.

Harry stood directly in front of her, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock. It was already noticeably thicker and longer than yesterday—heavy, throbbing, veins bulging. Petunia gasped. Her mind still tried to resist:

"This is my nephew… this is wrong… I’m married… I’ve always hated him… but… God, he’s so big… so thick… I’m dripping even more…"

Harry grabbed her by her long, swan-like neck with one hand, and with the other, he directed his hard cock straight at her face. The head of his cock slapped against her plump lips—THWAP.

— Open your mouth, slut aunt, — he commanded roughly. — You’ve humiliated me my whole life. Now you’ll suck like a cheap white whore.

Petunia moaned, her resistance melting. She obediently opened her mouth, and Harry, without ceremony, thrust forward.

GLUCK!

Her plump lips stretched around his thick shaft, her long neck immediately bulging noticeably. Harry wasn’t gentle—he grabbed her blonde hair with both hands and forcefully shoved his cock deeper, all the way to her throat.

SCHLORP… GLUCK-GLUCK-GLUCK!

— That’s right, bitch… Deeper. Feel how your skinny nephew fucks your throat? — Harry growled, beginning to aggressively face-fuck her.

Each thrust was accompanied by wet, sloppy sounds. GLUCK! GLUCK! GLUCK! Petunia’s long neck became the perfect sleeve for his cock—the skin on her throat visibly bulged every time the head pushed deep. Drool poured from the corners of her mouth, dripping onto her massive swaying tits, mixing with the milk already gushing from her nipples.

Petunia wheezed, her eyes rolling back, but she didn’t try to pull away. Instead, her hands gripped his skinny thighs, her fingers digging into his skin, and she began to push forward, swallowing him even deeper.

"So deep… he’s tearing my throat… why do I love it? Why am I dripping like a slut? Vernon never… never could do this… I’m a whore… I’m my nephew’s dirty white whore…"

Harry sped up, his scrawny hips slapping against her saliva-drenched face—PLAP… PLAP… PLAP…—his heavy, slobbery balls smacking against her chin with a wet SMACK-SMACK. The air was thick with the scent of her sweet pussy juice, the milk from her tits, the heavy, drooling aroma of her throat, and his young, musky scent of a dominant male.

— Look at yourself, Petunia, — he hissed, continuing to roughly fuck her mouth. — A skinny, arrogant white bitch who spent her life despising me. And now your long swan neck is just a convenient sheath for my cock. Swallow deeper, whore!

GLUUUUCK!

He rammed his cock all the way to the base, fully stuffing it down her throat. Petunia’s nose pressed into his pubic bone, her eyes bulged, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She gagged, choked, but her fat pussy squirted another burst of juices onto the floor—SPLUUUURT.

Harry held her there for several long seconds, savoring the way her throat clenched and pulsed around his cock, as if trying to suck out every last drop. Then he pulled back slightly, letting her breathe, before immediately resuming—hard, rhythmic, deep.

GLUCK-GLUCK-GLUCK-GLUCK!

Petunia was completely broken. Her thoughts had turned to mush:

"More… please, deeper… fuck my throat… I’m your slut… your white breeding cow… Vernon is a pathetic impotent… only Harry… only his thick cock… I love it… I adore being degraded by him…"

She began to actively work her head, bobbing eagerly onto his cock, smacking and slurping like a true cocksucker. Her huge tits slapped against each other, milk spraying onto the floor, her fat ass trembling and jiggling in waves.

Harry growled with pleasure, increasing his pace. His skinny hands tightly held her head, using her long neck like a handle as he furiously fucked her mouth like a cheap hole.

— Good bimbo aunt… Suck harder. Soon your pig husband and son will wake up and see you swallowing your hated nephew’s cock. And you’ll smile at them with my dick in your mouth, understand?

Petunia only moaned in response, her eyes rolling back completely with pleasure. SCHLORP… GLUCK… GLUUUUCK! Her throat worked like a well-lubricated pussy, clenching and pulsing around every inch of his cock.

Harry felt his orgasm approaching. He tightened his grip on her hair and began short, powerful thrusts, pounding her throat.

PLAP-PLAP-PLAP-PLAP!

— Now… swallow it all, bitch…

With a loud roar, he buried his cock to the hilt one last time and began to cum. Thick, hot streams of cum flooded directly into her stomach. Petunia’s entire body trembled, her pussy squirted a powerful gush onto the floor as she swallowed and swallowed, GLUCK… GLUCK…, trying not to spill a single drop.

When Harry finally pulled out, a long string of saliva and cum stretched from her mouth. Petunia breathed heavily, her face flushed, her eyes empty and blissful, like a true brainless bimbo.

She looked up at him and hoarsely whispered:

— More… please, Harry… I want more…