The Gentlemen's Club

It had been a difficult week for Ava Potter. Ava Potter… was that even her name anymore? She was now the property of House Malfoy, no longer a person in a legal sense, so she couldn’t really claim membership to House Potter. But what else would her last name be? It felt awfully presumptuous to claim the name Ava Malfoy. She was Draco’s ****, not his wife. He would never marry a half-blood slut like her. She supposed her last name didn’t matter anymore. Slaves didn’t need last names.

Regardless, to the rest of the world, she was still Ava Potter. That was maybe where her difficulties in the past week had originated from. If she had just been Ava, Draco’s little **** girl, her life would have been so easy! She wouldn’t have to worry about anything except pleasing her Master! As it was, she had to pretend to still be Ava Potter, which clashed with her new responsibilities for Draco.

The biggest issue was her wardrobe. Hogwarts had a uniform, but there were technically no rules against modification, as long as no different colors or logos were added. Some girls took advantage of this, wearing slightly shorter skirts or unbuttoning the top of their blouses. But Ava took it to a whole new level for her Master! Her skirt now barely covered her ass, and any bending over, or a gentle breeze for that matter, exposed her Gryffindor red G string to the world. Her blouse had a neckline that exposed most of her tits, and it was fairly transparent, revealing her lack of bra. Her robe had been trimmed to something resembling a half-cape, which of course covered nothing. When she had walked into Transfiguration the first day after Break, McGonagall had been nearly apoplectic. Dumbledore had cared somewhat less, and informed the irate professor that it was not technically in violation of the dress code, so she was free from punishment. Still, it had seriously damaged her social standing, amongst both her professors and her classmates.

The clothes she wore when she wasn’t in class were even more ****. While her mother had been clothed mostly in booty shorts, her Master seemed to prefer her in skirts. If they could be called that. The miniskirts she wore without her uniform were even shorter than the ones she wore with it, exposing half her ass. This was usually paired with a low cut crop top or tied off half blouse. She got more attention than ever now, not much of it positive. She had been called a slut or worse too many times to count in the past week, the girls in jealousy and the boys in derisive appreciation. And they didn’t even know the half of it; she looked ten times more slutty in truth, when one was able to see the true size of her new tits and ass, which stretched her clothing to its limit. Luckily, none of them could, thanks to her Master’s Notice-Me-Not charm.

Her brother had blown up at her the first time he had seen her in the common room in her new clothes, which had turned into a very public shouting match. He kept demanding to know what had come over her, while she had fiercely defended her right to wear whatever she wanted, insisting that it was none of his business. Since then, he had barely been able to look at her, and seemed to be in a state of perpetual embarrassment. Well if he wanted to really be embarrassed, he should try to spend a day in her shoes. She doubted he would be able to walk around in her 5 inch sandal heels; she struggled with it herself.

All of her struggles would have been tolerable if only Draco paid her any attention. But he had barely spoken to her all week! Not once had he had her service him! And she was sure he had been visiting her mother, based on the satisfied smirk she wore every night at dinner. It was infuriating! Which was why the discovery she had just made was so exciting. Coming back to her dorm after a night of studying, with all of her dormmates already asleep, she had found some sort of little blue outfit, folded neatly, on her bed. And on it was a note! There was only one person it could be from. She picked up the fine parchment, observing the elegant calligraphy, clearly written by a dictation quill.

Dear Slut,

You are expected at the East Wing fourth floor corridor at precisely 1:30 a.m. Stand facing the wall directly across from the gold suit of armor, where you will receive further instructions. Arrive in the uniform provided.

Waiting Expectantly,

Your Owner

She had no idea why he wanted her to come to some random, out-of-the-way corridor in the middle of the night, or what the deal was with the outfit. It was peculiar that it had been called a ‘uniform’. And she didn’t know what to make of all the formality, what with the finely crafted letter, or its ambiguity. Still, she was trembling with excitement. Her Master finally wanted to see her!

Ava gulped, mentally preparing herself to step out of the broom closet. Logically, she knew she only had to go 50 feet or so, and the corridor was dark and deserted. That didn’t lessen her instinctual fear of being seen, though. Anyway, the portraits would still see her.

Even the clothes she had been wearing recently had not prepared her for this. Her outfit consisted of 8 inch stripper heels, a thong, and pasties over her nipples. The pasties were heart-shaped, while the thong, which consisted of almost no material, had a bunny tail attached to the back. Completing the ensemble was a pair of bunny ears that had attached themselves magically to her head. They were realistic, too; they felt like the real thing, and they perked up, drooped, and twitched along with her changes in expression. The whole set was a forget-me-not blue.

She had snuck out of Gryffindor tower with a fair amount of trepidation, sure, but she wasn’t worried about anything more than being caught for breaking curfew. She had brought her outfit to the nearest broom closet to her destination, and changed into it. She sighed, wishing she had her family invisibility cloak. Her Master had claimed it for himself.

A squeak escaped Ava as her thong tightened itself unexpectedly, digging in between her pussy lips and pressing against her clit. It seemed to be enchanted to do that at random. The sudden wave of pleasure reminded her that her Master was waiting for her, which in turn reminded her that if she didn’t leave the broom closet now, she would be late. Well, there was nothing for it. She steeled herself, and opened the door to enter the corridor.

The walk to the gold suit of armor mentioned in the letter was long and awkward. Even her week of constant walking in heels hadn’t prepared her for the ones she was wearing now. It was nearly impossible to stay balanced! Still, she eventually reached the armor, and though she noticed the eyes of a few portraits following her silently, she did not have any encounters with anything else. No sooner had she stood to face the unremarkable stretch of wall she had been directed to, wondering what would come next, when an ornately carved door shimmered into existence. The whole thing reminded her of the Room of Requirement, except that it was on the seventh floor, and she knew of no other such room.

No matter. Obviously she was meant to enter. The door was not locked, she discovered, nor did it seem to require a password. As soon as she cracked it open, a flood of warm light illuminated the corridor, followed by the chatter of voices and faint classical music. So there were multiple people in there? And all men, by the sound of it! Well, there was no turning back now. Not that turning back had ever been an option. Her Master had given her an order.

The room she found herself entering was a richly decorated lounge, furnished with expensive looking sofas and armchairs, arrayed in a sort of chaotic order. The walls were lined with bookshelves and paintings. They were mostly landscapes, but there were also several humans– female humans, and without much clothing, she noticed. Off to one side was a large mahogany dining table arrayed with gold-lined china. Off to another side was a raised platform, with a metal pole in the center that ran from the floor to the ceiling.

She registered all of these details within the space of a moment. Her main focus, of course, was on the occupants of the room. There were about a dozen in all, seated casually on the couches and chairs, goblets of wine or firewhiskey in hand. They were all upperclassmen, all purebloods from rich and noble houses that she knew.

And they were all staring right at her.

She recognized most of them. They were mostly Slytherins, among them Theodore Nott, Adrian Pucey, Graham Montague, and Blaise Zabini. But Slytherins were not the only ones present. There was Zacharias Smith in the corner, and Michael Corner was present as well, along with a few seventh years in Ravenclaw robes she didn’t recognize. There was even a Gryffindor: Cormac McLaggen. It wasn’t a surprise. He fit right in with this group.

Draco sat in the back, seated on a chair more akin to a throne than anything else. It was he who spoke first. “Welcome,” he drawled irreverently, “to the Hogwarts Society of Gentlemen.” ‘Gentlemen’ was an interesting way to pronounce ‘Purebloods’, she noted.

Nonetheless, she did not have anything to say, too caught up in the hungry stares of the men occupying the room. The last week had been bad enough, but being eye-fucked by these imperious gits, dressed like a sex toy? She shivered– and not entirely in discomfort.

It fell to Draco to break the silence. “I’ve been telling all these fine fellows about my recent acquisition of property. And they insisted on seeing it for themselves. So here you are… and you’re going to put on a show for us.” He gestured to the raised platform, with a metal pole that rose to the ceiling, which her eyes had been carefully avoiding since she had first seen it. She had been expecting just such a thing.

She took her first hesitant steps toward the waiting pole. As she passed, Pucey stuck out his foot. In her heels, she couldn’t help but trip, ending up sprawled atop the laps of Pucey and Zabini, who occupied a sofa. Immediately, their hands found her squirming tits and ass, getting in a good grope before Draco waved them off. “No touching, gentlemen. Let her give us a show first.” There were laughs all around. Ava wondered what would happen after she gave them their show.

Still, she found her way back to her feet, and eventually managed to reach her destination. She wondered how she would manage some sort of dance routine in heels if she couldn’t even walk in them. As she turned to face her audience, she noticed every eye move from her ass to her tits. Her Master seemed to have noticed the same thing.

“Oh, that’s right,” he said with a casual flick of his wand. “You lot couldn’t see the full picture.”

Judging from the bulging eyes and whoops, Ava guessed he had dispelled the notice-me-not charm that prevented others from seeing her new proportions.

“Jesus Christ, Malfoy, how’d you manage that one?” Zacharias Smith exclaimed, “Potter never used to have tits that big!” The others made noises in agreement, drawing a blush from her.

“Ah, can’t tell you that, lads,” Draco said, smirking. “Family magic. I’m sure you understand.” With another wave of his wand a loud muggle club song began playing. “Well, get to it, slut!”

Tentatively, Ava began to strut around the pole, stepping to the beat of the music. Her hand gripped the pole, unconsciously stroking it as if it was her Master’s cock. The raucous cheering of her audience encouraged her, and she did a twirl around the pole, before shaking her tits at the audience. That caused them to cheer even more.

“Shake those melons, slutbunny!”

“Nice tattoo!”

Her newfound confidence was cut down in an instant, as she was reminded of her situation. Here she was, baring herself for a bunch of purebloods who thought she was inferior because of her ancestry. She was wearing a slutty bunny costume. She had two tattoos of Draco Malfoy’s house seal etched permanently into her skin, marking his ownership of her. The whole thing was humiliating. She didn’t feel sexy anymore, she just felt like a whore. And the worst part was the wetness in her thong, visible for all to see.

Well, she didn’t exactly have any choice but to give it her all. And so she did. The men got more and more aroused as she twirled, jiggled, and twerked her way around the dancefloor. The pole became slick with her juices, as it was a frequent target for grinding her pussy. At one point, when she went into a split with her ass facing the audience, one of them had the clever idea to shooting a stinging hex right at her cheek, eliciting a yelp from her. They seemed to enjoy that, and from then on, she was hit with the hexes at inopportune moments, causing them no end of amusement and her no end of humiliation. She was just entertainment to them. A game. An object.

Finally, the music came to an end, and Draco allowed her to take a rest. She was exhausted, and desperately horny. Zabini yawned, hand rubbing the obvious erection under his robes. “I’m parched.”

Draco grinned at him, as if they were sharing some private joke. “Me too. And we’re all out of firewhiskey.” He picked up a little silver bell and rang it condescendingly. From a side chamber that she had not previously noticed came her mother.

Lily was dressed just as she was, down to the stripper heels, except in pink instead of blue. She seemed to be better at moving around in them than Ava was, as she balanced with a tray of firewhiskeys. She didn’t spill a drop, even as Draco slapped her ass when she passed him. Ava tried to catch her mother’s eye as she passed out the drinks, but Lily didn’t so much as glance in her direction. Everything about her, from her expressions to her movements, was perfectly in character, the whore-waitress for a club of rich gentlemen. Maybe it wasn’t a character.

“Alright, sluts, that’s enough cockteasing. It’s time for the main event.” Draco’s tone brooked no argument.

Ava had feared this would happen. Draco wasn’t really the jealous type, and he was sure in his possession of them. There was no point in this whole event if he didn’t intend to share.

McLaggen and Pucey wasted no time getting their hands on the hottest professor in the school, and before she knew it her mother was getting spitroasted right in front of her. The ‘gentlemen’ were no less eager for her, and she soon had a cock occupying all three holes, with two more in each hand. They pounded her relentlessly, like a piece of meat. When Draco fucked her, he was not too far off from this, but he savored in his ownership of her, and that made him pay her slightly more attention. These boys didn’t even have that to make them care about her. She was just a fucksleeve for their pureblood cocks. It was amazing.

By the time the Gentlemen’s Club got tired of their two bunny sluts, each was covered in more loads than she could count. The remnant of Ava’s outfit was scattered around her, with the exception of her heels, and her mother’s state was no better And both sluts were thoroughly satisfied. But just because the men were done fucking them, didn’t mean they were done with their entertainment. The girls’ attention was called to the back wall, which was blocked off by a red velvet curtain.

“To commemorate this occasion, and to mark your experience with the Club, we prepared a little something,” Draco proclaimed extravagantly. With a wave of his wand, the curtains pulled back to reveal two new portraits, framed in gold.

The first was of her mother, crouched and surrounded by dicks. She was sucking enthusiastically on one, and stroking one in each hand. She still had her bunny ears on, and her pussy was dripping onto her stripper heels. Periodically, she took her mouth off the cock, giggling and demeaning herself as she looked up to the crowd of men, their faces out of frame.

The second, of course, was of her. There she was on stage, performing the same routine that she just had. She too giggled and demeaned herself with words even as she demeaned herself physically, shaking her tits or twerking her jiggling ass, covered in red marks. Her pussy was just as visibly wet.

“Alright, they get the idea,” Draco said, “quiet down.” The portrait versions of Lily and Ava continued to mouth their words, but no sound emerged.

Ava looked around, taking in the portraits of women in various humiliating positions in a new light. Had all these witches been tamed by the club? It said something about the power of these wizards, that they could have so many girls doing whatever they wanted. And– was that Pansy Parkinson getting her ass fucked. And Daphne Greengrass serving as a footstool?

Ava was distracted from her musings when Draco called her. He was hard again. She crawled over to give him another blowjob.