LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 1: Galatea
A/N: This story is one of my older still running commissions. Started back in 2020, it has updated pretty regularly ever since. It will update whenever the commissioner has me write another chapter going forward.
-x-X-x-
It had all been going so well, too. The Justice League had fully discovered the extent of what Project Cadmus was up to, and sure that was bad… but then they’d been stupid enough to fire the Watchtower’s main weapon down at Cadmus’ headquarters. The Binary Fusion Generator had been likened to a gun with the punch of a small nuclear weapon, once upon a time.
A clearer act of war, Galatea couldn’t tell you. In retaliation for that attack, Galatea had been tasked with bringing down the Watchtower once and for all. The Justice League had gone too far after all, and with an army of Ultimen clones at her command, it really seemed like she’d be able to do it. Not that Galatea really cared all that much about all of that.
Oh sure, she was certainly willing to do her job and destroy the Watchtower’s reactor as the Ultimen army distracted the rest of the League. But that was just business. The chance to finally kill her counterpart, that bitch Supergirl… that was what Galatea was really on the look out for. So, when she’d been confronted by Supergirl and Steel before she could blow the reactor, Galatea hadn’t been all that put out. She was finally getting the fight she’d been waiting for.
Which was why it was so damn irritating when Amanda Waller had distracted her in the middle of the fight with a damnable recall order. The leader of Cadmus had a lot to say about how apparently Lex Luthor of all people had been manipulating both sides or something from the beginning, and that the attack by the League wasn’t actually a legitimate attack at all, and that they no longer had a leg to stand on legally or something like that.
Galatea personally felt that was a load of horse-shit. Legally, they’d never truly had a leg to stand on. And frankly, the reason Hamilton had made her in the first place was to deal with metahumans that couldn’t be controlled. But more than anything, the reason Galatea disobeyed Waller’s direct order and ultimately destroyed her comms was simple… she wanted Supergirl dead, once and for all.
She was sick and tired of living two lives, of feeling that damnable goody two-shoes moral conscience all the time. This was her chance to finally put an end to it, once and for all. There was only room for one of them in this world, and as the more mature, more powerful version of Kara Zor-El, who knew what needed to be done and was willing to do it… Galatea more than believed she deserved to exist over Supergirl.
Which was why it really wasn’t fair, how everything ended. As the power coupling slams into Galatea’s stomach, the Argoan Clone seizes up, the electricity coursing through it causing her eyes to widen and her entire body to convulse violently. It takes a LOT of energy to properly electrocute an Argoan… but then, having said power coupling hooked into the very same reactor that she’d come to destroy would certainly do it.
However, it would seem she’s rubbed off on Supergirl almost as much as the original has been rubbing off on her. The violence in the physically younger Argoan’s eyes is a sight to behold as she follows up the electrocution that’s already leaving Galatea twitching and near-catatonic with a direct kick right between the more developed Argoan’s breasts.
Galatea flies out of the Watchtower, her fried senses belatedly recognizing that she’s in space for the moment it takes Kara to follow her out and deliver a punch to her body that sends her spiraling down. Now, space doesn’t really have directions… unless, of course, there’s a planet-sized gravity well under you. Galatea can feel the precise moment that Earth’s gravity well catches her, and she begins to fall faster than just Kara’s blow could send her.
She can’t stop her descent, her body is unresponsive, her mind trapped within it. In the end, all the Argoan Clone can do is burn, burn, burn all the way down as she re-enters Earth’s atmosphere and falls like a shooting star.
This was it; it would seem. This was how she died. She had many, many regrets of course, and if she could have, she would have been screaming in rage, all the way down. As it was, her jaw had locked up back during the electrocution and she could no more scream than she could fly. All she could do, in the end, was mentally brace for impact, as physically her battered, electrocuted body burnt up from sheer velocity, her costume gone in moments.
She hits the ground a moment later.
-x-X-x-
The explosion of dirt and rock from not too far away startles Harry quite badly. His head comes up from where he’d been sitting alone shortly after Dumbledore’s funeral. Everyone else was long gone by this point, respecting his wishes to be alone for a time. Of course, that time had turned into over an hour by this point, hadn’t it?
But perhaps that was for the best. Pulling his shrunken broom from his pocket, Harry unshrinks the flying implement and quickly hops on, hurrying over to where the plume of dirt and smoke is just beginning to settle down. There, on the far edge of the Black Lake, is a crater. Just close enough to the Lake to have caused some leakage, Harry arrives just in time to witness the waters beginning to fill the bottom of the crater… where a severely burned young woman is laid out, twitching and convulsing.
Emerald-Green eyes widening even further, Harry hurries down as fast as he can. He doesn’t dare touch the woman, not when she’s so covered in burns, but he also can’t leave her there for any longer as more and more water puddles around her, threatening to drown her if he doesn’t intervene. It takes him three times to successfully cast the levitating charm on her, but once he does, Harry lifts her up into the air, even as he himself ascends again on his broom.
Then, he hesitates. Instinctually, he’d turned towards Hogwarts and the castle’s well-stocked hospital wing. Madame Pomphrey would have the supplies to help this young woman, he hoped, and if she didn’t, she would have the expertise to know that the woman was better off at St. Mungo’s. Except… Harry knew nothing about the woman. He didn’t know if she was magical or not… and just by having him bring her in, she would end up associated with him by default.
It’s a startling realization, that he really can’t trust anyone anymore. With Dumbledore dead and gone, with everything that happened that night in the tower… no one is trustworthy. Everyone could be a traitor. By taking this stranger to the hospital wing, he might cause more harm than good to her. She… she was better off with him, flying under the radar for now.
Now, this definitely wasn’t the most logical, rational course of action. Harry was undeniably lying to himself, at least a little. While it certainly wouldn’t be good for Galatea to enter the Wizarding World at the moment with how it currently was and how she currently was, at the end of the day, the real reason that Harry hesitated and ultimately decided against taking her to the Hospital Wing… was that he was being selfish. He needed someone, something to take care of, he needed something to take his mind off of Dumbledore’s death and all the responsibility that left squarely on his shoulders. The young wizard needed a distraction, and Galatea was it.
Of course, given all that we know about young Harry Potter’s life, it’s doubtful that many would blame him for his decision to be a little selfish, just this once. Especially given how it would all turn out for the best anyways.
-x-X-x-
Instead of taking the stranger to the Hospital Wing, Harry relocates her to the Shrieking Shack instead. Perhaps not the most sanitary place for a burn victim under normal circumstances, but where magic is concerned, nothing is ever normal. Harry cleans up the place, transfigures up a proper bed just like the ones that they had in the Hospital Wing (he should know, he’s spent more than enough time in them) and gently lowers her down onto it.
The next few hours are spent doing his level best to clean the strange young woman up with just his magic. He manages to get the little remnants of melted clothing off of her equally melted flesh, as well as cleans her now bald-head of any remnants of blonde hair that have melted in there as well. It was… it was like she’d fallen from outer space if Harry was being honest.
But that was impossible, right? It certainly seemed like it. In the end, he sets her origins aside and focuses on the task of trying to save her life. She still breathes, that much at least Harry can tell. It’s crazy, that she’s still clinging to life, but as long as she’s going to fight for it, Harry is willing to fight for her.
That’s why he only hesitates for about as long as it takes to clear the remnants of her melted costume and hair from her burnt body before he sneaks into Hogwarts, and more specifically the Hospital Wing, and begins smuggling medical supplies back to the Shack. It’s… honestly kind of bad that he actually knows something of what he’s doing.
After so many close calls with death over the years, he’s quite capable when it comes to treating the strange woman’s injuries. She’s positively covered in third degree burns, with a large fourth degree burn centered around her stomach that… just makes Harry wonder how she’s even still breathing. And yet, she is, so he keeps working.
There’s also the broken bones to contend with as well. Harry goes through a lot of supplies as hours turn into days, and days turn into weeks. He steals from the Hospital Wing liberally, not even caring if he gets caught, except so far as it might keep him away from his patient for too damn long. He sneaks and skulks around, but it’s all fine, no one ever sees him, no one ever stops him.
Weeks don’t get a chance to turn into months, surprisingly enough. Harry has to admit, he’s completely shocked by just how quickly the strange blonde’s body takes to recovery. By the end of the first week, a lot of the burns are completely healed, and so are the broken bones. Much of this is thanks to magical healing of course… but what’s odd is how fast the woman’s hair grows back in.
It’s almost like she has some sort of healing factor of her own, and all she needed was a bit of magical help to kickstart it. Harry has no clue at that time how right on the money he truly is with that. Because that’s exactly what’s happened. Galatea’s Argoan physique is what’s rapidly repairing her body now that Harry’s magic has completely the first dozen or so steps. With magic doing the heavy lifting, it’s child’s play for the Argoan to do the rest.
The only reason it takes as long as it does is because Harry has no idea how important sunlight is to Galatea or her kind. At the same time, he quite values staying out of sight and keeping her away from prying eyes. As a result, Galatea is not once exposed to the yellow sun that would have helped a bit more. But in the end, she doesn’t need it. Magic does the hard part; she does the rest.
However, even as her physical recovery is truly miraculous, Harry is disappointed to find that the gorgeous stranger doesn’t wake up. Her mental recovery takes a lot longer, and even though she’s mostly healed by halfway through the week two, it’s not until the end of week three that Harry gets quite the surprise.
-x-X-x-
Stepping into the Shrieking Shack, more specifically into the room where his patient is still comatose, Harry is almost feeling cheerful. He opens his mouth, intending to call out to sleeping beauty and start telling her about his day as he’s done a dozen times before, but he never gets the opportunity. As it turns out, his patient is no longer comatose, and is instead very active indeed.
Harry discovers this when the gorgeous, irate, and entirely naked blonde grabs him by his shirt collar and lifts him up, pinning him against the bedroom wall and glaring him dead in the eye.
“You! Who are you?! Where am I?!”
Maybe it’s the fact that he’s faced down death too often to genuinely care about it at this point, maybe it’s just his saving people’s thing prompting him to treat her with kid gloves. Either way, Harry doesn’t get scared. He doesn’t stammer or stutter, even as he hangs there against the wall, not of his own power. Is… is she flying? That’s bloody wicked…
“My name is Harry Potter. You’re in the Shrieking Shack. I brought you here to hide you from those who would do you harm and to heal your wounds.”
Taken aback by his surprisingly calm demeanor and overall gentle attitude, the blonde just stares at him for a long moment. Harry has no way of reading her mind of course, he’s not a Legilimens by any stretch of the imagination, but all in all, Galatea is… confused. More than confused, she’s bemused by her survival. There was really no reason she should have lived following her fall, and even if she had lived, there was no reason she should have ever woken up again, thinking about it.
“How? How did you heal me?”
It wasn’t like Earth’s medicine was exactly equipped to deal with Argoan physiology. The only places where Galatea could have truly sought medical attention would have been Cadmus or the Watchtower, with perhaps a couple of others in between. She was clearly not in either of those places, judging by the worn down wooden walls surrounding her. He’d called this place the Shrieking Shack of all things…
“Well… I suppose there’s no point in beating around the bush, is there? I used magic to heal your wounds.”
Galatea blinks at that, considering the young man in front of her for a long moment. And he is young, perhaps a year or two away from adulthood by the commonly accepted human definition of the word, if she had to guess. With messy black hair and almost ethereal green eyes, he was staring back at her from behind a pair of wide, round-rim glasses. He didn’t look afraid, he didn’t look worried… he looked concerned, for her.
Very belatedly, Galatea realizes she’s naked. She reins in her immediate reaction to that in favor of giving the young man she’s pinning to the wall a death glare.
“Why am I naked?”
The reminder causes his eyes to dart downward for all of half a second before he pulls them back up through sheer force of will. It’s no surprise, Galatea is quite aware of how beautiful she is, ever since Cadmus artificially aged her up to the point of full Argoan maturity. It had given her a distinct physical advantage in that last fight against Supergirl, but in the end the little bitch had managed to take her by surprise and win anyways, as irritating as that was.
“Well, you… started out that way?”
Galatea lifts an eyebrow at that. He’d been so calm and collected before, when she was just threatening his life. But now, with them moving on to her state of nudity, he gets all flustered? Taking her raised brow to mean something else, the young man quickly hurries on.
“I d-didn’t want to, um, p-presume or anything, so once you were healed, I just pulled a sheet up over your body! T-To preserve your modesty while you recovered!”
Curious, Galatea looks back at the bed she’d evacuated with all the fury and confusion of near-death and not knowing where she was. There is indeed a sheet there, all messed up now, that likely covered her body when she first woke up. In the midst of looking back, the gorgeous Argoan woman ends up bumping her hip into her savior’s crotch… and just so happens to brush against the admittedly impressive package there.
Whipping back around, Galatea looks down between them, past her sizable chest and down to where the young man’s bulge is steadily growing, developing an outline in his jeans. Experimentally, not having any of the cares about personal space or boundaries or morals that he seemed to have, Galatea reaches out and fondles his package, groping and squeezing it experimentally as she hums to herself.
Harry blushes profusely, of course, especially when she looks up at him after a moment and gives him a wicked, knowing grin while continuing to play with the goods.
“Tell me more about this Shrieking Shack and your magic, please.”
“U-Um, I’d be glad to… but could you please s-stop groping my junk?”
Galatea’s grin widens at that. It seemed that when his life was on the line, this young man, this Harry Potter… was fearless. But then to be fair, he’d saved her, a complete stranger, at what was perhaps great personal risk to herself. After all, the Justice League HAD to be looking for her. Her damnable counterpart couldn’t possibly have just left it at that. Supergirl would have been ordered to follow her down if nothing else, eventually.
But this young man had gotten there first and spirited her away to this ‘Shrieking Shack’ of his, and however long she’d been out, nobody had managed to locate them. That alone spoke to a level of skill that Galatea could appreciate. His actions, meanwhile, spoke to a level of care that ought to be rewarded. At the same time however, it was obvious he was far less comfortable with sexual situations then he was life-and-death. And Galatea had been trained to look for weaknesses.
So, she doesn’t stop ‘groping his junk’ as it were. Instead, Galatea leans into it a little, even leaning forward and pressing her still-naked tits against his chest as she grins at him.
“Mm… no. No, I don’t think I will.”
And that’s how the Argoan clone receives a stammered, stuttered, and altogether flustered crash course on just who Harry Potter is and what sort of society he comes from. By the end of his explanation, she understands a lot better what must have happened. After all, neither Cadmus nor the Justice League knows anything about any hidden, backwards magical societies from what Galatea can tell. At least… not this one.
There are magical people and even magical communities over in America from what she remembers. Zatanna Zatara of the Justice League is from one, Galatea believes. But the fact that this British society was apparently hidden behind a veil of magic and kept secret by a Statute of Secrecy… no wonder the Justice League hadn’t located her yet.
They had the resources to circumvent the magic hiding her, but not knowing that it was in fact magic doing so, they would likely be running around like chickens with their heads cut off, flailing about and using technology to try and track her down, to no avail. Cadmus would be doing the same and failing in the exact same way, something that Galatea found she really didn’t mind all that much after Amanda Waller’s last idiotic order to her.
Galatea was officially off the grid in all the best ways, which meant she had all the time in the world to plan her next move, to plan her revenge. At the same time, it seemed like her savior had his own fair share of problems. From the sound of things, he didn’t know the first thing about Cadmus or the Justice League. He’d been worried about her being found and used by the less than moral people in HIS camp.
Honestly, the fact that he was some sort of messiah figure in his backwards magical world was less important to Galatea then the simple fact that he was a handsome young man sporting a surprisingly large cock. All things considered, now that he’s told her everything she wants to know, all while being molested by her hand all this time, Galatea decides that it’s time for Harry to get his just desserts.
He lets out an adorable little ‘oomph!’ as she tosses him onto the bed where he’d healed her, looking up at her blinking in confusion. Galatea just smirks as she floats down to the ground and struts over rather than floating, making her gorgeous tits bounce with every step she takes, all but mesmerizing him as his eyes are drawn to her impressive chest.
Crawling up onto the bed, it takes the Argoan woman all of a moment to shred Harry’s pants off of his body, and then his boxers too. A delighted little gasp leaves her lips when she finally beholds Harry’s cock… it’s precisely as impressive as she’d hoped, a massive thing that stands straight up thanks to all the attention she’s given it already. It’s leaking with precum, even as she grabs hold of it and positions herself above Harry’s member.
“W-What are you doing?!”
Grinning down at her savior, Galatea licks her lips suggestively.
“What does it look like? You saved my life, Harry. So, I’m going to fulfill your wildest fantasies. Unless you’re telling me that I’m not the most perfect woman you’ve ever seen.”
“N-No! I mean, y-yes, you are, I just…”
Galatea snickers and then begins to sink down onto his cock, groaning as his meaty rod spreads her pussy lips wide and stretches her out. She has to be careful of course, Woman of Steel and all that comes with that, but that doesn’t mean this can’t be pleasurable, and he really is quite well-endowed. Horny as all hell, Galatea looks down at Harry, who’s completely trailed off at this point, and looks like he’s about to cross his own eyes at her tightness.
“Mm, consider this a reward for a job well done, Harry Potter. Oh, by the way, the name is Galatea… but you can call me Tea~”
And then she begins to ride him cowgirl style, eager to see just what this magical young man is truly capable of.
-x-X-x-
It’s like… it’s like she’s drank a whole gallon of Re’em blood or something. But then, while that might explain the overwhelming super-strength, it doesn’t necessarily explain the flight. At the end of the day, Harry doesn’t get a chance to spend much time questioning it. He’s too busy being questioned in turn, and also having his junk felt up like… like he was just a plaything, or something.
Galatea, or Tea as she’d said to refer to her, truly was something else. Seeing as this was his first sexual encounter ever, all Harry felt he could really do was brace himself as her powerful muscles milked his rod and her hips nearly broke his own with every downward stroke. The funny thing was, even now he could tell she was holding back… and, despite her super-strength, the entire experience was FAR more pleasurable than it was painful.
His cock was wrapped up in a vice-like cunt, and Harry didn’t dare thrust his hips upwards for fear of them meeting the unstoppable force that was Tea’s own hips and getting crushed. In the end, she was the one in control of this sudden ride, but Harry was A-Okay with that, because frankly she felt phenomenal wrapped around his dick.
He’s never done anything like this before… the most he’s ever done is some snogging here and there, and honestly his experiences haven’t always been the best in that department. Looking at Cho Chang and her teary kisses, which completely ruined the entire makeout session. And really, maybe it wasn’t her fault she was still grieving Cedric… but it kind of was her fault that she’d agreed to go out with him while still grieving Cedric. All in all, that was a pretty shitty move on her part.
Regardless, the point is, Harry’s sexual inexperience is playing against him here, there’s no doubt about that. He’s barely holding on for dear life… which is why when he makes his move, it’s less something calculated and planned, and more just a move made in desperation to try to hold on a little better. Bringing his hands up, which had until this point been gripping tightly at the bedding beneath him, Harry loudly claps both of them down onto Tea’s massive, bubbly butt cheeks.
His fingers dig into the newly formed flesh, her ass still being relatively soft and not firmed up after her three weeks of bed rest. His near-death grip on her buttocks sends waves of pleasure up Galatea’s spine, and to his relief, while she looks surprised, she also looks pleased with his initiative, smiling down at him as Harry kneaded and pulled at her ass like a particularly tough piece of dough.
Bouncing up and down on his cock, riding him towards kingdom cum, Galatea moans wantonly from the feel of his hands mauling her butt cheeks. She trembles, feeling something welling up inside of her… while at the same time, Harry feels something welling up in him too. Honestly, it’s truly a miracle he’s lasted as long as he had. They’d been talking for a good twenty minutes or so after all, and in all that time, Tea hadn’t let him go for even a moment, her hand kneading and massaging his cock in a way that spoke of experience with teasing men.
The fact that he hadn’t jizzed in his pants during that interrogation was pretty damn wild… and then that he’d lasted for a while longer as Galatea rode him like an experienced cowgirl was also fairly amazing, at the end of the day. In the end though, Harry can’t hold back for longer, and with a loud groan, he finds himself cumming inside of her vice-like cunt.
This in turn triggers Galatea’s own orgasm. The blonde beauty tosses her head back and positively SCREAMS in ecstasy, adding a new level of ‘shrieking’ to the Shrieking Shack, even as her cunt goes so tight that she quite literally lifts Harry up off of the bed by his cock a few inches before the inherent slickness of their joined members frees him from her pussy’s vice-like grasp.
Harry falls back on the bed and Galatea floats above him for a moment, both of them panting heavily and recovering slowly. Just as his cum is starting to appear at her creampied entrance, the Argoan woman recovers… and decides she’s not at all satisfied yet. Coming back down onto the bed, this time Galatea turns herself around and puts herself on all fours.
Presenting her pristine, lily-white ass to Harry, the gorgeous blonde looks back over her shoulder at him, locking gazes with his emerald-green eyes as she gives him a raunchy grin and wiggles her hips.
“I hope that’s not all you’ve got, Harry~ Ready for Round Two, lover boy?”
Blood instantly rushes back up into Harry’s cock at Tea’s suggestive tone and gorgeous display of submission. The young man practically growls as he lurches upwards and then forward onto the bed. Grabbing her by those gorgeous malleable ass cheeks, he drives his cock into her from behind, causing Galatea to let out a hearty, wanton moan, even as Harry groans. Torn between some pain and a whole lot of pleasure as her cunt grips his rod once again and she drives back to meet his every thrust, Harry nevertheless doesn’t consider stopping for even a moment.
Fucking Tea is like… it’s like fucking a woman with a giant’s strength, all compacted into her immediately voluptuous body. She’s dangerous, and she could kill him faster than he could draw his wand or even think to speak a spell. And yet, she’s also naked and writhing under him, offering her body up to him as he fucks her already cum-filled cunt once more, his load of seed that’s already been deposited inside of her providing him with all the necessary lubrication and slickness to piston in and out of her absurdly snug pussy.
Hell, Harry’s fairly sure Tea could just tighten up more and snap his entire dick off if she wanted to. And honestly? Maybe Harry IS a bit of a daredevil, maybe he is a bit of a thrill seeker… because he’s never been more turned on in his life. The danger is there, yes, he’s basically one wrong move away from death… and he still fucks Galatea with all his might, groaning as he pounds into her again and again and again.
Leaning over her body, he wraps his arms around her and this time gropes at her chest, playing with those glorious pale orbs that have caused him so much trouble over the last couple of weeks. Ever since she’s healed, Galatea has truly been the most beautiful woman in Harry’s life… but she was also the most unconscious woman in his life, and Harry had never had it in him to take advantage of her.
He hadn’t lied about the sheet he’d used to cover her modesty, but luckily she hadn’t asked him if he’d taken a peek here and there… because he had. He’d looked, but he’d never touched, so now Harry was making up for plenty of lost time, groping and squeezing and kneading Tea’s absolutely gorgeous tits even as he fucks her from behind, leaning over her and nibbling at her ear.
Tea moans in pleasure in response, her bucking hips pressing back into his thrusting cock nearly throwing him off of her every time. In truth, holding her by the tits is Harry once again hanging on for dear life, as if he’s riding a bucking bronco and any moment could see him thrown off of her and through the closest wall.
But that never happens, and as he nibbles at her ear and squeezes at her breasts and fucks her with all he has, Galatea turns her head and reaches back around, grabbing him by his messy black hair and pulling him into a kiss that ultimately evolves into a full-blown makeout session. One would expect her to be just as good at kissing as she is at everything else. Hell, with her level of strength, one would expect her to dominate any exchange between their lips and tongues.
Harry is a little surprised by how uncertain of herself Galatea seems to be during the kissing session that follows. She doesn’t seem to know what to do with her lips and tongue once they start making out, even though she’s the one that initiated it. So instead, Harry ends up taking the lead there, even as Tea moans into his mouth, even as the blonde pushes her hips back into his thrusting cock, again and again.
It’s like trying to hold onto a shooting star, but Harry manages it all the same, somehow, someway. He fucks Galatea as hard and as long as he can, and in the meantime he brings the gorgeous blonde to not one, not two, but THREE more glorious orgasms. Each one is a little terrifying as well of course, because each climax on Tea’s part results in a moment where Harry isn’t sure whether she’ll completely lose control and tear him apart or not, but honestly, that makes it all the more thrilling, and in the end it never happens.
She cums around his cock, and Harry fucks her all the faster for it, her pussy juices providing even more lubricant right alongside his load of cum already filling her insides. Again, and again and again, he fills her snug pussy with his member… until finally, his second release arrives, and he pumps another thick load of white, hot jizz into her womb.
It feels amazing, to be able to cum inside of such a powerful woman, to have said powerful woman get on her hands and knees before him and actually offer herself up to him to be fucked by his big, fat cock. Harry shudders in delight… and then promptly falls back onto the bed in sheer exhaustion. Two fucks was about all his human body, even bolstered as it was by magic beyond that of a normal muggle’s body, could take.
Laying there on his back, covered in sweat, arms and legs spread, Harry stares up at the ceiling in sheer disbelief at just how the day had gone. Only to startle when he feels something nuzzling and nudging at his cock-length. Blinking, Harry levers himself up onto his elbows and stares down the length of the bed at Galatea. The beautiful blonde has once again flipped around and is now sat at the end of the bed, his seed beginning to slowly sop out of her well-fucked, twice-creampied cunt.
Meanwhile, it’s her feet that she’s using to stroke the length of his cock, her sole rubbing up and down his girth while her toes tease the head. When he meets her eyes with his own, Tea grins wickedly and licks her lips sensually as she bats her lashes in his direction.
“The night is far from over, Harry Potter… and so is your ‘reward’.”
Harry’s cock jumps a little at her sultry, seductive tone… but it only jumps, it doesn’t grow hard again. The pain and soreness is really starting to catch up with him, and Harry wouldn’t be surprised if there were microscopic hairline fractures on more than half the bones in his body. Put succinctly, the spirit was willing, but the flesh was spongy and weak.
Luckily, there were potions for that. Potions, in fact, that Harry had nearby for use in healing Galatea these last few weeks. Reaching over to the nearby nightstand, he pulls open the top drawer and pops out two potions in particular. Drinking one after the other, steam comes out of his ears, even as Harry feels the soreness fading, the pain disappearing, and all the little fractures across the length of his body disappearing.
Was it healthy to be using a Pepper-Up Potion like this? Probably not. Was it healthy to be healing his body for the sole purpose of putting it through the same thing it just got done experiencing, something that would almost certainly result in more fractures all over his skeleton? Almost certainly not. Did Harry care? Fuck no!
As his cock hardens back up beneath the soles of Tea’s soft feet, Harry gives the strange blonde that’s so abruptly entered his life a wicked smirk.
“I’m ready if you are.”
They’re soon going at it all over again. Harry was looking for something to take his mind off of Dumbledore’s death and the destiny that was weighing so damn heavily on his shoulders. It seemed he’d found it.
Or rather, he’d found her. And nothing was ever going to be the same, ever again.
-x-X-x-
Elsewhere, more specifically up in outer space, another blonde lays in a bed aboard an extremely advanced, highly technological space station. One that had been under attack by her clone and an army of Ultimen just three weeks previously. Kara Zor-El, otherwise known as Supergirl, groans in her sleep as she tosses and turns in bed.
They’d looked for Galatea, of course they had. The realization, once the anger was finally gone, that she might have killed her… it’d shaken Kara to her core. And then, they hadn’t been able to find any trace of her body, and Kara really wasn’t sure what to think about that. The chances of Galatea burning up into nothing upon re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere were slim, but not nonexistent. It was possible she was just plain gone.
The other option was that Cadmus or some other shady entity, perhaps Lex Luthor given he turned out to be the one who’d orchestrated the whole thing, had gotten to Galatea first. Whether she still lived or whether they’d acquired her corpse… it was enough to keep a girl up at night, to be sure. In fact, this right here was the first night that Kara had actually managed to get to sleep in weeks.
And now here she was, tossing and turning. With a particularly large, long pillow clutched in her hands, Kara is subconsciously grinding at the end that’s between her legs right now, moaning and groaning and panting heavily as she dreams of emerald-green eyes and a big fat cock endlessly filling her cunt, over and over again.
And then it hits her again, and Kara comes awake with an orgasmic shriek as her entire back arches and her body goes taut, tearing the pillow she was clutching onto in half as she hits another high. Her blue eyes are wide but unseeing for a long moment before the stars fade from her vision and she slowly comes back down to Earth… though that’s perhaps a bad way of phrasing it, given where she is.
With an irritated and altogether confused growl, Kara tosses the ruined pillow aside and spreads her legs apart right then and there as she puffs in desperate need and shoves a hand down the front of her pajama bottoms while forcing the other up under her pajama top. Whimpering, she slides inexperienced fingers into herself and begins to play with her breasts with the other.
She tries so hard to recreate the sensations from her dream, even as she masturbates aggressively, relentlessly, right there in her bed. All the while, the young blonde Argoan curses the strange sickness that’s come over her body, wondering just where the hell this had come from. Eventually, she’s not wondering much of anything at all, far too lost in the pleasure and ecstasy to do much thinking on her current plight.
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