by Susan Strict
The third book in Susan Strict’s “Hairy Peter” series.
Peter has little time to recover from his ordeal of the battle of Asfixi-by-Mooning. Almost as soon as he arrives at The Borough, he finds himself in Mrs Weenie’s dungeon to be tormented and sat on for her pleasure. It does not last long. He is whisked away to an island in the Indian Ocean to protect him from attack by Dark Wizards and to meet Merry Shagger’s parents. After a slight time-slip and a near disaster in deep space, the strange and apparently non-magical girl Hecate Wistman makes a dramatic impression on him, although at first perhaps not as much as the powerful Daniella Shagger. Hecate’s power starts to surface, and following a minor distraction from the insatiable, leather-clad Nymphomona Bonks, to say nothing of an attack by a few hundred Dark Wizards and Witches, Peter returns with Hecate to the more familiar surroundings of Fessewarts University.
Despite the increased security at Fessewarts, or perhaps because of it, Peter finds his life as a student wizard to be as difficult as ever. Not only is he forced to endure whatever any witch decides to do to him (and, as he already knows, the urges of witches are many, varied, often painful and always erotic), but also he has to cope with some most extraordinary events that may well have their source in much deeper magic and desire. Evil that may lurk somewhere within the University of Fesswarts itself, could be connected with both Hecate Wistman and with Peter’s lost love, Merry Shagger. As Peter is about to find out, there may be a far older reason for the sudden madness and “watersports” obsession of Professor Drusilla Drencham…
Published: 06 / 2009
No. words: 86000
Style: BDSM/Bondage – Content: Moderate – Fem Dom – F/M, Bondage/BDSM Fantasy, Bondage/BDSM and Humor
Chancellor Fumblebum gazed benignly at the mass of students gathered in the hall of the University of Fessewarts.
“Welcome, and welcome,” he began. “To those of you returning, welcome back. To those of you who are new here, who have recently become adults and have qualified to attend our great University, just welcome.
“We will, in a moment or two, bring on the Sorting Chair so that we can sort our new arrivals into appropriate Houses. Before that, however, I have a few announcements that affect us all.
“Firstly, you will be aware of rumours and newspaper reports of the re-emergence of dark magic and the return of He-Who-Must-Never-Be-Sat-Upon. Indeed, although last term we dispensed with the excessively restrictive security arrangements provided by the Ministry that, in my opinion, turned Fessewarts into a prison as much as a fortress, we have retained a number of phylaxes from the Ministry, who, in addition to our usual security arrangements, will help to assure the safety of us all. I have personally approved each one of them, and I am sure that they will not disrupt our routine. I ask each of the students to co-operate when asked to do so.
“Secondly, I have received a number of messages from concerned parents about sightings of dragons within the grounds of Fessewarts. If you should see one, stay away from it and do not attempt to aggravate it in any way. I can assure you that there is no danger, if you use a little common sense, but dragons will not take kindly to attempts to drive them away from where they want to be or to practise casting spells in their direction. The consequences of foolish actions may be severe.
“As usual, the Forest of Portent is out of bounds to all students unless accompanied by a professor who has my express permission to take you there. This is for your own safety, and more important than ever if there is the risk of unexpectedly coming across a dragon. I will leave it to your senior House members to explain to the newcomers about other areas of the Castle where caution may be required.
“I will, however, warn you about some of the fundamentals of student life at Fessewarts, which will also be a reminder to all our students who clearly – to judge by events over the last year – need reminding:
“Witches’ dormitories are out of bounds to all wizards at all times, whether or not you have been invited into them. They are protected by magic built into Fessewarts castle, over which I and the other professors have no control. If a wizard enters a witch’s dormitory, he will find himself trapped there until he has managed to remain at least ten feet away from any witch for a period of seventy-two hours.
“Gentlemen, as beautiful and desirable as all our student witches may be, becoming trapped in one of the witches’ dormitories for an extended period is an experience from which you would undoubtedly carry the scars for a very long time, mental if not physical. Take my advice and do not risk it.
“On a similar subject, you will all be aware that your education at Fessewarts will cover a range of subjects and, if you work hard, will lead to a Wizarding Degree. However, magic will form only a small part of your studies here. You will learn something of the history of witches and wizards and, more importantly, of the sexuality of our society. There will be the opportunity to experience some of this, both good and bad, under the supervision and instruction of our professors, and to learn how to deal with it and get the most out of it. I am able to tell you that within Fessewarts Castle and grounds, and, indeed, away from Fessewarts once you are enrolled as a student and have commenced your studies, you are completely protected, again by deep magic that is a part of our great university. Witches, you cannot become pregnant while you are here. Wizards and witches, you cannot contract any nasty diseases while you are here, either sexually transmitted or otherwise. This does not, however, mean that you should indulge in every variety of sexual encounter whenever you feel like it. As I said, you will be supervised and instructed by your professors during your lectures, and they will set you specific tasks you may try and which you will undoubtedly be required to study and document. Other personal experimentation, particularly by the inexperienced, is not recommended. There will be plenty of time for that after you have graduated.
“I also want to mention spell crops. As most of you will be aware, you are not permitted to carry or use a spell crop until you have graduated, at which point you will be presented with a crop attuned to your personality. Some of you, mainly those from families actively involved in day-to-day magic, may already have used spell crops or may actually have one of your own. Except for a very few students who have my authorisation to carry a spell crop, if you have brought one with you then you must hand it in to your House professor. I remind you that a spell crop is only a means of focusing magic that you generate within you. It is not necessary for your studies, and in fact you will learn more and become more proficient in the magical side of your studies without them.
“Finally, this term we have our five-yearly International Student Tournament, and I am delighted to be able to inform you that this year it is to be held here at Fessewarts. Consequently, we will be welcoming teams from universities for witches and wizards across the world. As a few of our postgraduates here may remember, if they were part of our team that attended the Tournament in Moscow five years ago, this means that we will be host to more than five hundred additional students and their professors. The students will continue their studies while they are here, and teams will be selected from among them for each of the events that will be staged over the course of this term. The students and their professors will be accommodated in the North Wing of Fessewarts Castle. I am sure you will all make them very welcome.
“We will, of course, be selecting our own teams in advance of each event. More details of that will be provided by your Head of House in due course.
“The students and their professors are already on their way here and will arrive over the course of the next week. Also, the equipment for some of the traditional events is being transported here, although it behoves the host University to devise the procedures and equipment for some of the events, and I can assure you that our own professors and postgraduates have already been working on some exciting and novel ideas.
“And now, it is time for the sorting. Professor Mackafart, please continue.”
Chancellor Fumblebum sat down, and Professor Windy Mackafart stood up and produced a long roll of parchment. At the same time, four of the postgraduate students carried in the ornate Sorting Chair and placed it on a raised platform in the centre of the hall.
As Professor Mackafart read out the names of the new students, each came up in turn and was instructed to lie under the seat of the chair, face up. As soon as the student was in position, the magic of the Chair restrained the student inescapably and raised his or her head, so that the face was just visible through an oval hole in the padded seat of the chair. The Chair then spoke loudly, calling for a student or, occasionally, a professor, from those assembled in the hall. Sometimes it merely specified from which House and of which gender the student should be, sometimes from which year, and sometimes specifying particular attributes that student should have. In those cases, it was necessary for the students to quickly agree who would go up. In other cases, the Chair specified a student by name, its criteria apparently based on a preliminary assessment of the new student now bound underneath it.
Once the student called by the Chair was on his or her way towards the centre of the hall, the Chair made the decision about how the student should sit – dressed as he or she already was, in underwear only – which only applied to wizards or witches who were not already in their robes, as few wore anything underneath a robe – or naked, or, for the assessment of one new student during this sorting session, putting on specific clothing, which, bizarrely, this time was a full wetsuit. Attired as the Chair commanded, the student sat down, and was immediately and magically restrained to the Chair by wrist, ankle, thigh and waist straps, held firmly in place on top of the upturned face of the new student.
Peter, seated between Hecate and Sherina, and opposite Don, Herniame, Freda and Samantha on the long table with the rest of the members of Grindonner House, was as puzzled as he had been when, just a year ago, he had had to endure the Sorting that, finally, had assigned him to Grindonner. Although he completely understood that sitting on the face of a wizard (or, sometimes, another witch) was an activity that most witches enjoyed intensely and might even be considered as the fundamental expression of sexual relationships among the magical community, how and why the Sorting Chair made its decisions based on a seemingly random student (or professor) sitting on the new student’s face in a seemingly random state of dress or undress was a completely mystery.
Herniame groaned as the Sorting Chair called her. “I don’t believe it! That’s the third time it’s called me to sit, and it’s only sorted twenty-five students so far!”
“That’s ok, Herniame,” Don assured her. “Only about eighty to go, so that means you’ll be sitting on nine or ten more if it keeps this up!”
“There must be at least another six hundred students here,” Herniame complained. “Why me?”
She strode towards the centre of the hall, somehow not looking as though she was as reluctant as her words seemed to suggest and dropping her robe with a quick flick of her fingers when the Chair announced “Naked” to Professor Mackafart’s question, “How shall she sit?”
She, like most others, wore nothing underneath her robe. Don, who had turned round to watch her again, shifted his position a little on the bench.
“Don!” Freda snapped at him. “For goodness sake! I’m sure you must have seen Herniame without her clothes before.”
“Mmmm,” agreed Don vaguely without taking his eyes off Herniame as she gently lowered herself onto the face of the wizard now restrained under the Sorting Chair, adjusted her position, and waited for the Chair’s straps to bind her securely in place. “Always worth seeing again. Don’t you agree, Peter?”
But Peter made no reply. He was battling with his wizard’s robe that seemed determined to roll up to his waist – responding to his arousal as it always did – as Hecate and Sherina watched him with interest.
A few minutes later, Herniame returned looking rather flushed. Samantha raised her eyebrows and asked, “Good one, Herniame?”
“Ooh yes,” Herniame replied at once, wearing her robe once more but seeming somewhat breathless. “A little longer than usual before the Sorting Chair made up its mind. I had a little…”
She broke off, blushed deeper red and hurriedly resumed her seat beside Don.
Samantha leaned forward. “Really?” she asked. “That quickly? How? It usually takes me at least ten minutes.”
Herniame shrugged. “I had some tips from Ivana,” she admitted. “Did you know that she can climax in less than ten seconds, given the right stimulus, and a minute or two later she’s ready for more. Anyway, I didn’t mean to. It just… sort of happened. I’ve no idea why.”
“Why,” said Samantha, “Is because you’re one very kinky witch!”
“I’m not!” protested Herniame hotly. “I’m no kinkier than anyone else. I certainly don’t leap onto every wizard’s face as often as you two do. You can’t be left alone with a wizard for two minutes before you’re at it, and you know that as well as I do.”
“Exactly,” said Samantha. “We do what every witch does; what every witch is expected to do. You, Herniame, want to try a bit of everything, and the kinkier it is, the better you like it. A few minutes ago you were restrained and every bit as helpless as the wizard whose face was pressed between your legs. What happened? You orgasmed. No surprise at all, really!”
Freda nodded. “You want to try that properly,” she suggested. “It wouldn’t be too hard to put together a replica of the Sorting Chair, would it? Then all you need is a wizard who doesn’t mind too much being sat on, and someone to control it, someone a bit kinky but with some common sense that you and the wizard can both trust. I mean, you don’t want to damage the wizard by sitting on him for too long, do you?”
Herniame stared at her, open mouthed. “I… no, I mean I couldn’t do… oh no, I…”
Samantha laughed. “So that means you’d really, really like to try it,” she said as Herniame’s face turned an even deeper red. “Well, Fred and I are a bit busy and a bit too ordinary to get involved in your kinky games.”
“Ordinary! You and Freda ordinary? You have to be joking…” Herniame objected.
“We’re quite ordinary,” confirmed Freda. “Sure, we’re enthusiastic, but really we’re only interested in the same as any normal witch, and that’s sitting on a wizard – preferably when he’s tied up and helpless.”
Samantha nodded her agreement. “Don’t think I’m criticising,” she continued, “I certainly don’t have any problem with anyone playing whatever sexy games appeal to them. A bit of variety is a very good thing. Fred and I just aren’t really into being restrained or controlled or watching other witches or playing with other witches… well, not too much, anyway. We’ve tried most of it, of course, but it doesn’t do so much for us. You need someone a little kinky. So I propose you get Nymphomona to supervise. With her tight leather and all that, she’d be perfect in charge of something like that. I can just see her tightening those straps on the chair to hold you in place on top of a wizard’s face. Don would be ideal for you, wouldn’t he? And…”
She broke off and stared at Herniame whose eyes were closed, her mouth open, gasping, and her body straining and shuddering. She gave a short squeal and then a long, drawn-out wail, rocking violently back and forth on her seat at the table. There was silence in the hall, everyone looking towards Herniame who appeared to be totally oblivious to the attention she had just attracted. In fact, she seemed totally oblivious to anything, her eyes still closed, beads of perspiration rolling down her face, slumped over the table trembling slightly.
“Ah…” commented Freda quietly. “Impressive. I don’t think I’ve ever managed to do that; not without any physical stimulation at all… Do you think it was when you suggested that Don should be underneath her, or that Nymphomona should be in charge of it, or just the thought of being restrained like that?”
“All of them, I should think,” said Samantha. “As you said, very impressive. Lucky girl.”
The hush that had fallen over the hall was broken by the voice of the Sorting Chair: “If Miss Grimwaite has quite finished demonstrating that I put her in the right House last year, perhaps we could get on with the Sorting. Unless, that is, any more of you would like to show your appreciation of my Sorting abilities?”