Chapter 8

You sit in your room thinking, it seems the potion you made has some affects you didn't expect, Iris seems to flip between **** and enthusiastic quite quickly, she also seems to forgive and forget rather easily you feel like you should hold off on Jasmine's lessons till you have Iris fully in control. The mental effects aren't as **** as you expected either, The potions seems to make her more suggestible but the control isn't foolproof as seen by the push back you've gotten.

It seems like you will need to word your commands in a way that she won't rebel as seen by how you dealt with her reservations on bringing Jasmine under your control. Though perhaps another dose will be needed to completely remove some of her reservations and put her fully under your control. With how well she's gotten at following your orders you won't need to be subtle about getting her to drink the potion.

The next day, you find Iris in the Greenhouses, as usual, her hands gently tending to a particularly stubborn Snapdragon. The afternoon sun filters through the glass, casting a warm glow on her red hair. She looks up as you approach, her expression a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

You extend your hand, revealing a vial filled with a liquid that shimmers with an otherworldly glow. "Drink this," you tell her, your voice carrying a note of finality. Iris hesitates for a moment, her gaze locked onto the vial. Then, with a resigned sigh, she takes it from you.

The potion slides down her throat, and for a moment, nothing happens. Then, with a subtle shudder, Iris's eyes dilate, the green of her irises darkening to a deeper shade. Her breath hitches, and a faint blush creeps up her neck, painting her cheeks with a rosy hue. She looks at you, her expression softening, the resistance that had been flickering in her gaze extinguished.

As the potion weaves its magic through Iris's system, you watch with a sense of satisfaction. Her green eyes, now darker, lose their focus, and her body sways slightly, as if she's suddenly become disconnected from her surroundings. The normally vivacious and argumentative Miss Potter is now pliable, her will submerged beneath the tidal wave of enchantment you've unleashed within her.

"Good girl." The words hang between you, a simple praise that carries the weight of your expectations. Iris responds to them with a nod, her expression serene, almost vacant. The potion has done its work, stripping away her layers of resistance, her independent thought, leaving her in a state of acquiescence.

The Greenhouse around you hums with the energy of growing things, a stark contrast to the manipulation taking place within Iris's mind.

As the potion's influence peaks and begins to ebb, Iris blinks slowly, her eyelids heavy. The fog in her eyes starts to clear, and she takes a deep, shaky breath. The rosy hue in her cheeks subsides, and she stands a little straighter, her posture more relaxed than before. She looks at you, her gaze still subdued but now tinged with curiosity.

"Draco."

"Hows my little cum slut doing?"

Iris blinks at the directness of your question, her lips parting slightly in surprise. The greenhouse's warmth seems to wrap around the two of you, the smell of earth and greenery mingling with the lingering scent of the potion. She swallows, her eyes never leaving yours, and you can almost see the gears turning in her mind, sifting through the altered landscape of her thoughts.

"I..." She pauses, her voice trailing off as she searches for the right words. The effect of the potion is still evident in the slight tremble of her hands, the way her gaze flutters between boldness and uncertainty. "I feel... different." Her voice is a whisper, barely audible over the soft rustling of the plants around you.

"Tell me, Iris." The command in your voice cuts through the humid air of the greenhouse, a stark contrast to the gentle rustling of leaves around you. Iris looks at you. She takes a deep breath, her large breasts straining against the fabric of her school uniform as she steadies herself.

"I feel... lighter, somehow," she begins, her voice gaining strength as she speaks. "like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders." She takes another deep breath, her expression one of cautious exploration, as if she's navigating through a newly discovered room in her mind.

"There's a... a clarity," Iris continues, her voice steadier now, "as if my thoughts are not as cluttered as they used to be."

"And what do you think about our previous... activities?" you probe, your voice carrying an edge of anticipation. "Eating my cum? Sucking me off while I talk to Jasmine?"

Iris's face flushes a deep crimson, the color clashing with her fiery red hair. She looks away, her gaze landing on the vibrant green leaves of a nearby Mandrake. "I..." Iris starts, then stops, her throat working as she swallows hard. "It's... it's a lot to process." She glances at you, her green eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and something else, something deeper and more complex. "I never thought I'd... do things like that. But..." she trails off, her eyes dropping to the ground.

"But?" You lean in, your curiosity piqued by the unspoken words hanging in the air. Iris takes a deep breath, her hands wringing together in front of her.

"But I enjoyed it," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. The confession seems to surprise her as much as it surprises you. Her eyes widen, and she quickly looks away, as if ashamed of her own thoughts.You study her, this girl who was once a fiery, argumentative opponent, now unraveled and remade by the potion's influence.

"Draco." The name slips from her lips like a secret, her voice a mix of **** and something akin to awe. "I don't know what to make of all this. It's like... like I'm walking through a dream, except it's my life." She shakes her head, as if trying to clear the fog of the potion's influence. "But I can't deny what I feel."

You nod, a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips. "Iris, there's no need to make sense of everything right now. Just follow your feelings." You say, your voice carrying a note of gentle reassurance that seems to put her at ease.

Iris looks at you, her eyes searching your face for a moment before she nods, a small sigh escaping her lips. "I'll try, Draco."

You reach into the pocket of your robes, your fingers closing around the smooth glass of a vial of cum. The corners of your mouth twitch upwards in a smirk as you produce the vial, holding it up to the light filtering through the greenhouse's glass ceiling.

Iris's eyes follow your movements, widening as she recognizes the vial's contents. Her breath hitches, and a shiver runs through her, a visible reaction to the sight of your cum. The potion's influence is evident in her heated gaze.

"I... I feel... like I want it. I enjoy the taste, I like how your cum feels on my tongue. Give it to me." she says without prompting.

You extend your hand, the vial gleaming faintly in the diffused sunlight. Iris hesitates for a fraction of a second, her gaze locked onto the vial, before her hand slowly rises to take it from you. Her fingers brush against your palm, sending a jolt of electricity through you both. The exchange is silent, but it speaks volumes, an unspoken pact sealed by the contents of the vial. Iris holds the vial between her fingers, her eyes reflecting the light that passes through the glass. She uncorks it with a soft pop, the sound echoing slightly in the humid air of the greenhouse. She brings the vial to her lips, her eyes never leaving yours. The first drop touches her tongue, and her eyelids flutter closed as she swallows.

"It's warm." The greenhouse becomes a sanctuary of hushed secrets as Iris savors the taste of your essence. The sweet, earthy aroma of the plants envelops you both, providing a natural backdrop to this illicit ritual. With each swallow, Iris's face softens, giving way to a sense of contentment.

As Iris continues to savor the contents of the vial, you seize the opportunity to let your robes slip from your shoulders. They pool around your feet, leaving you standing in the greenhouse in nothing but your underwear. The air is thick with humidity and the scent of magical flora, a heady mix that only amplifies the intensity of the moment.

Iris's eyes flutter open, the last of the cum sliding down her throat.

Iris lowers the empty vial from her lips, her gaze drifting down to where your robes have fallen. Her cheeks flush a deeper shade of red as she takes in the sight of you partially undressed. The potion's effects are evident in her heavy-lidded eyes and the way her breath hitches when she realizes your intention.

Iris watches you, her expression a cocktail of curiosity and arousal. You nod, a silent command hanging in the air between you two. Iris swallows, the motion visibly deliberate, as if she's steeling herself for what's to come. She takes a step towards you, her movements deliberate yet slightly unsteady, a testament to the potion's lingering effects. "Here?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, the greenhouse's ambient sounds nearly drowning her out.

You nod again, your gaze never leaving hers. Iris takes another step closer, her fingers slowly releasing the empty vial, letting it fall to the ground unheeded. The glass doesn't shatter, instead landing softly on the rich, loamy soil that houses the roots of countless magical plants. Her attention is solely on you now, her green eyes wide and expectant.

She reaches out, her hand trembling slightly as she places it on your chest. Her touch is light, tentative, as if she's half-afraid you might evaporate like the morning dew that clings to the leaves of the Venomous Tentacula. The warmth of her palm seeps through the thin fabric of your undershirt, and you can't help but feel a twinge of anticipation.

Iris's hand travels southward, her fingertips tracing a path down your torso, each nerve ending sparking to life under her touch. The greenhouse's air is laden with the scent of earth and growth, a fitting backdrop for the burgeoning desires unfurling within the confines of its glass walls.

Her hand pauses at the waistband of your underwear, her fingers hooking underneath the elastic.

"On your knees, Iris," you command, your voice carrying a mix of authority and temptation.

Her eyes flick up to meet yours, a momentary flash of hesitation crossing her face before she complies. Iris lowers herself onto the soft, fertile soil of the greenhouse, her skirt spreading around her like the petals of a flower. The greenhouse is alive with the sound of rustling leaves and the faint hum of magic emanating from the plants. Iris kneels before you, her position one of submission. Her hands rest on her thighs, the fabric of her Hogwarts uniform contrasting with the rich, dark soil beneath her.

You stand there, the bulge in your underwear evident, a silent testament to the effect Iris has on you.

Iris's hands, steadier now, grip the waistband of your underwear. With a deep breath that seems to steady her further, she tugs gently, her gaze fixed on the task at hand. The underwear slides down your legs, pooling at your feet, leaving you exposed in the humid air of the greenhouse.

The scent of the plants seems to grow stronger, mingling with the tension that hangs between you two. Iris's eyes widen as she takes in the sight before her, a hint of trepidation mingling with the curiosity in her gaze. The greenhouse, usually a place of growth and life, has transformed into a sanctuary of forbidden knowledge and experiences. Her breath hitches, creating a small cloud of condensation on the glass walls surrounding you.

Iris, now on her knees before you, seems to be processing the situation. Her previous encounters with you have been a whirlwind of potion-induced lust and confusion, but this time, there's a subtle shift in her demeanor. The corruption potion you've been giving her has taken deeper root, altering her perception and making her more pliant to your desires. Yet, despite the potion's influence, there's a spark of autonomous thought in her eyes, a flicker of something genuine beneath the layers of enchantment. You wait, watching her intently. Iris's hand hovers in the air, inches away from your exposed skin.

"Draco." Iris whispers your name, the word hanging in the air like a spell waiting to be cast. Her hand finally makes contact, the warmth of her touch contrasting with the cool, moist air of the greenhouse. Her fingers trace the contours of your skin, exploring with a newfound hunger that your potion has instilled in her.

"Iris," you say, your voice a low murmur that blends with the rustling of the plants, "use your mouth."

Her green eyes flick up to meet yours, a silent question lingering between you. But the potion's influence has done its job all that remains of her hesitation is a determined focus. Iris leans forward, her breath warm against your skin. You feel the tentative brush of her lips before she parts them, taking you into her mouth with a careful deliberation that speaks of her conflicted state. The sensation is a mix of wet heat and soft pressure, a contrast to the cool, damp environment of the greenhouse.

As Iris moves, you can't help but notice the change in her behavior. The initial tentativeness in her movements quickly gives way to a more confident exploration, guided by an instinct that seems to transcend her potion-addled mind. Her green eyes, wide and fixated on your reactions, seek approval as she finds her rhythm.

"Good girl, Iris," you encourage, your voice steady despite the rising tension within you. "You're such a good cum slut Iris."

Your words hang in the air, resonating with the faint echo of the greenhouse's enclosed space. Iris pauses, her green eyes meeting yours, the title you've bestowed upon her reverberating through her mind. A blush creeps up her cheeks, but there's no disgust or shame in her expression, only a growing acceptance of her new role in your life.

"Thank you, Draco." The words, though simple, carry a weight of acknowledgment and submission that makes the air in the greenhouse seem even thicker with humidity and unspoken promises. Iris resumes her actions with renewed vigor, her movements now more purposeful, as if embracing the identity you've given her.

You gently guide Iris back to her task, your hands lightly resting on her head. Her red hair feels silky under your fingers, a stark contrast to the rough texture of the plant leaves surrounding you. She resumes her ministrations eagerly, her large breasts pressing against your legs as she leans in, her body heat seeping through the fabric of your trousers.

"That's it, Iris. Show me how much you want this." Iris, with her green eyes locked onto yours, seems to draw strength from your words, her actions becoming more assured. Iris's movements become fluid and more confident, as she takes your encouragement to heart.

As you guide Iris further down your shaft, her green eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't resist. Instead, she takes a deep breath, her large breasts rising and falling under her school uniform shirt, and she tries to suppress the reflex that makes her gag. You can see the struggle on her face, the potion's effects battling her natural instincts.

"Relax your throat, Iris." Iris obeys, relaxing her throat as you've instructed. The sensation of her muscles yielding beneath your guidance is intoxicating. Her green eyes water slightly as she takes you deeper than before, the tip of your cock brushing the back of her throat. The sight of her like this, submissive and eager to please, is a powerful aphrodisiac.

You notice Iris's hand slowly inching its way under the hem of her grey skirt. Her fingers trace the line of her white knee-high socks before disappearing beneath the skirt.

As Iris's hand ventures beneath her skirt, her face flushes a deeper shade of red, matching the color of her hair. The juxtaposition of her school uniform and the illicit act she's performing under it sends a thrill through you. You can't help but smirk.

"Are you touching yourself, Iris?"She freezes, her green eyes widening in surprise at your question. Her cheeks, already pink, deepen to a crimson hue. For a moment, she seems caught between the impulse to withdraw her hand and the desire to continue.

Iris's green eyes flicker with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal as she nods, her hand resuming its movements beneath her skirt. The realization that she's pleasuring herself while servicing you sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins. Her enthusiasm is palpable, her mouth moving with a newfound eagerness, her fingers working in tandem with her lips and tongue.

Iris continues her ministrations with fervor, her green eyes shining with a mixture of determination and lust. Her hand moves rhythmically under her skirt, the quiet rustle of fabric against skin the only sound accompanying the wet noises of her oral service. The scent of arousal mingles with the earthy aroma of the greenhouse, creating a heady, intoxicating atmosphere. As Iris's movements grow more urgent, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Her growing experience, combined with the illicit nature of your liaison, heightens your pleasure. You lean back against the potting bench, your hands lightly resting on her head, guiding her rhythm. Her red hair, tousled and damp with the greenhouse's humidity, brushes against your fingers like the softest of silk.

As Iris's movements reach a crescendo, you feel the familiar tightening in your gut, a prelude to the release you've been anticipating. With a low groan, you surrender to the sensation, your climax hitting you with the **** of a charging hippogriff. At the same moment, Iris's body stiffens, a muffled moan vibrating around your length as she finds her own release. Iris, her green eyes hazy with satisfaction, pulls back slowly, maintaining a tight seal around you with her lips until the very last moment. She swirls your cum in her mouth, savoring the taste as if it were the finest of elixirs. Iris, still flushed and panting, looks up at you with a mixture of reverence and something akin to triumph. She swallows, her throat working visibly, and a soft sigh escapes her lips.

"Delicious," she murmurs, the word sending a shiver down your spine. You lean back, catching your breath, and watch as Iris tucks her hair behind her ear, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. The greenhouse, once a place of quiet study for her, has become a sanctuary for your clandestine rendezvous. The smell of damp earth and the soft hum of magic from the enchanted plants seem to celebrate your shared secret.

Her green eyes, glazed with a potent mix of post-orgasmic bliss and the effects of your potion, look up at you with unwavering devotion. You can see there is no struggle within her, the battle between her upbringing and the new, insatiable desires you've awakened in her has been won. You rest your hand on her head, your fingers threading through her damp, red locks. There's a sense of ownership in the gesture, a silent claim that sends a thrill through you both. Iris leans into your touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as she savors the connection.

"Tomorrow," you say, your voice low and steady, "meet me on the seventh floor. It's time we go all the way." Her eyes widen slightly, understanding dawning on her flushed face. "If you're a very good girl," you continue, your thumb stroking her cheek in a deceptively gentle motion, "you might even part with another of your maidenheads." Iris's breath hitches at your words, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. The idea of surrendering her virginity—both of them—to you is thrilling, the potion's influence ensures that . She nods, her gaze never leaving yours, the bond between you solidifying with each shared secret and forbidden act.

"Yes, Draco."

You sit in the secluded corner of the greenhouse, the air thick with the scent of blooming flowers and rich soil. Iris kneels beside you, her eyes at the same level as your hand which rests on her head. The quiet hum of magic from the enchanted plants provides a serene backdrop to the intimate moment.

Your fingers trace circles on her scalp, each touch sending ripples of pleasure through her.

You turn to Iris, her red hair catching the green-tinted sunlight filtering through the greenhouse glass. Her green eyes, still no longer clouded with the effects of your potion, gaze up at you with a mixture of adoration and anticipation. You can see the unspoken question in her eyes, the silent plea for guidance, for approval.

"Iris." Your voice is soft, yet it carries a weight that makes the very air in the greenhouse seem to hush in anticipation. "I have a hypothetical for you."

Iris tilts her head, her expression one of focused attention. She's ready to absorb your words, to follow your lead, her loyalty to you unwavering.

"Say I asked you to help me... take your sister Rose by ****. Would you do it?" Iris's eyes widen at your hypothetical, the green of her irises reflecting the lush foliage around her. The silence stretches between you, punctuated only by the distant chirping of a magical creature hidden amongst the greenery. Iris's breathing hitches, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red as she processes your question.

"Draco," she begins, her voice a whisper that barely carries over the ambient sounds of the greenhouse. "That's... a terrible thing to even consider."

The question hangs in the air, mingling with the humid, fertile scent of the greenhouse. Iris's eyes search yours, looking for a hint of jest, a flicker of seriousness, anything to anchor her response. The potion's influence is a silent specter between you, an unspoken truth that she is bound to you, her will bending to yours with each passing moment.

"Iris." The sound of your voice cuts through the verdant silence like a gardener's blade through overgrown vines. "would you help me?"

Iris's gaze drops to the ground, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of a leaf on a nearby plant.

Her gaze snaps back to you, her eyes shimmering with a cocktail of emotions - fear, loyalty, confusion, and something darker, something that the potion has coaxed out from the depths of her psyche.

"I... Draco, I..." Iris's voice trails off, lost in the labyrinth of her own conflicted emotions. She swallows hard, her throat bobbing with the effort. The potion has corrupted her enough that the question doesn't shock her into outright refusal. Instead, it's a slow, sinking realization of what you're asking and what she's becoming.

"If... if it's what you truly desire, Draco."

You gently resume your caress of Iris's fiery hair, your fingers threading through the strands with a practiced ease. The gesture is both comforting and a silent affirmation of your control over her. Iris closes her eyes, leaning into your touch like a cat basking in the warmth of the sun.

"I won't ask you to do that Iris, it's just a hypothetical." you say thinking about how far she has progressed since just yesterday where you had to struggle to get her to accept teaching Jasmine how to suck your cock.

The words hang in the air, a tantalizing carrot dangled before Iris, offering a glimmer of hope that the unthinkable might be avoided. Her breath catches in her throat, a mix of relief and residual apprehension coloring her features. You watch as the tension in her shoulders eases slightly, the corners of her mouth lifting in a tentative smile.

"Really, Draco?" The hope in her voice is as palpable as the humidity in the greenhouse, and you nod, your expression unreadable. "Yes, Iris. I have no intention of harming Rose. She's... intriguing, in her own way." The words are carefully chosen, a veiled reference to your plans for her sister. Interesting so she would have gone along with it but not been happy, good to know.

Iris looks at you, her green eyes searching your face for any sign of deceit.

You lean back against a sturdy wooden table, the scent of rich soil and verdant plants filling the air. "Iris, I've been thinking. Rose... she's different from you, isn't she?" You pause, allowing the question to linger, to give Iris a moment to consider. "She's fierce, independent. I've seen her on the Quidditch pitch. She's a **** to be reckoned with." Iris nods slowly, her fingers stilling their nervous dance on the leaf's edge. "Rose is... formidable," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "She's always been the strongest among us, physically and in spirit. But she's also... oblivious, in a way. Focused solely on her own goals, her own ambitions." The greenhouse's humid air seems to thicken with your words, the implications of your musings hanging heavily between you and Iris. "That singular focus could be an asset, don't you think?" you suggest, your tone casual, as if discussing the potential alignment of stars rather than the manipulation of a fellow student's will.

Iris blinks, her brow furrowing as she considers the idea. "An asset?" She echoes, the concept clearly foreign to her. "I... I've never thought of Rose that way. She's always been so headstrong, so determined to do things her way. It's hard to imagine her... cooperating with anyone, let alone us." The word 'us' hangs in the air, a new and delicate construct that seems both to intrigue and terrify her. You offer Iris a thin, knowing smile, your eyes gleaming with the thrill of the unfolding plot. "Iris, my dear, we can help Rose expand her horizons. Her strength and determination, channeled correctly, could be quite the addition to our... activities. Completely willing of course" You let the notion sink in, watching as Iris processes the idea, as she nods her head along to your words.

Iris's green eyes widen slightly, the wheels of her mind visibly turning as she grapples with the concept you've presented. The tension returns to her shoulders, though it's different now, tinged with a sense of anticipation rather than dread. "I suppose... if it's her choice, if she's willing." Iris's words trail off, her gaze drifting towards the greenhouse exit as if she expects Rose to come striding through the foliage at any moment. You let the silence stretch between you, allowing Iris to marinate in the possibilities.