Dudley's Domination 21 (Patreon)

Harry sat at the kitchen table in the Burrow, the remnants of a late dinner scattered before him, empty plates, a half-drunk bottle of butterbeer, and a deck of cards Hermione had produced to relax.

He didn’t blame her. The new potion recipe was difficult. Even with Daphne’s help, it took all day, and most of the evening to finish. The night had settled in when they had their dinner, the house was quiet except for the occasional creak.

Harry blushed as his gaze slipped. Daphne lounged across from him, her sleek blonde hair loose over her shoulders, still dressed in an outfit that Harry could never imagine her wearing; a strappy crop top that hugged her perky breasts and low-rise shorts that showed off her long legs.

Though, it wasn’t hard to guess where she was getting her clues. Hermione sat beside her, her own tied-up shirt and tiny skirt a mirror of casual provocation, though Harry tried not to stare, his cheeks warming at the sight.

He wasn’t surprised. Daphne and Hermione had always been best friends.

"Another round?" Hermione suggested, shuffling the cards absently, her eyes flicking to Daphne with that subtle challenge Harry had noticed all day.

Daphne smirked, leaning forward, her top dipping lower. "Why not? Though Exploding Snap is child's play. We should try something competitive."

Before Hermione could answer, the back door swung open then, admitting Dudley with a gust of cool night air, carrying a gym bag, coming from the practice. He sauntered in, his bulky frame filling the doorway, a grin on his face. "Evening, all,” he said, then paused. “Are these cards?”

“Yes, we’re about play something competitive,” Hermione said.

Dudley smiled. “How about a proper game? Poker. Texas Hold'em. Muggle classic. I'll teach you if you don't know."

Harry blinked, surprised. Dudley had been oddly helpful lately, fitting in despite being a Muggle among wizards. He really misjudged his cousin. "Poker? Uh, sure. Why not?" Harry said.

It sounded harmless, a way to unwind after the day's weirdness.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "I've read about it, but I never played it. Sounds intriguing. Probability, bluffing, requiring proper Arithmancy. Count me in," she said, then looked at Daphne. “But it won’t be fair to you, Daphne. We can play something different if you can’t handle—“

Daphne eyed Dudley dismissively at first, her pureblood bias showing in the curl of her lip, but then her competitive spark ignited. "A Muggle game? I'll master it in no time. Deal me in."

Harry sighed as he recognized Daphne’s competitive flare.

They cleared the table quickly while Dudley set up a table, pulled a deck of cards from somewhere, and even set some beer and liquor on the table.

Five minutes later, they were around the table, and learned the rules. Hands, betting with chips, the flop, turn, river. They played a few practice hands openly to get an idea, followed by several rounds. Harry fumbled at first, the game not really his style, but he enjoyed the camaraderie.

Daphne, true to form, picked it up quickly, her sharp mind analyzing the game like an Arithmancy problem, competing aggressively with Hermione.

At least Dudley was playing as badly as him, losing every hand, the chips in front of him already dwindled halfway. He even skipped a hand to mix them some cocktails, which was soft and sweet, perfect for his preference.

He wanted to take it light after the last night’s solo disaster. He didn’t want to have another nightmare seeing Fleur and Dudley together.

While he sipped his drink, Daphne won another hand, giving her a small pot with a pair of aces, smirking as she raked in the chips. "See? Strategy over luck." Another win followed, a straight that beat Hermione's two pair. Daphne's posture straightened as her pile of chips grew, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "This is too easy. Muggles must be dreadful at it."

Harry chuckled nervously, glancing at his own mediocre hands. Hermione lost gracefully, but with a teasing edge. "Don't get cocky, Daphne. The night's young."

But as the game progressed, Daphne's luck shifted. She started losing, first a bluff called by Dudley, who revealed a measly pair of fives. "Nice try, sweetie." Daphne bristled at the familiarity, but said nothing, too angry to lose.

Then Daphne another hand to Hermione's flush. Daphne's chips dwindled, her bets growing bolder, more aggressive. She leaned in, brows furrowed, muttering about "calculated risks" as she pushed more into the pot.

Harry watched, unsettled by her intensity; her cheeks flushed, fingers tapping the table impatiently. "This can't be right," she snapped after folding a bad hand, her abrasive side emerging. "The odds were in my favor."

Harry shifted in his seat, sensing the shift. Daphne was getting very competitive, her control slipping as she chased losses, determined to turn it around. "Maybe take a break?" he suggested weakly, but she waved him off. "No. I don't lose." The game dragged on, the pile in front of her shrinking, her frustration mounting. Harry felt a vague unease, like the night was building to something he couldn't quite grasp.

Meanwhile, Dudley dealt another hand, his eyes flicking between the women with calculated amusement. Harry wanted to stop, but a part of him wanted to continue. As she lost herself in the game, forget just how revealing her outfit, her nipples poking through the thin fabric from the cool air, was a vision of frustrated allure.

Harry was ashamed to admit that he enjoyed it despite Dudley’s presence. He took another sip from his drink, the world getting slightly blurrier, but it must be his glasses getting foggy.

Daphne won another hand, then lost a bigger one. The next hand, she pushed her chips forward. “All in. I know you've got nothing," she snarled at Hermione. Both Dudley and Hermione called.

“I don’t,” Hermione said sadly, flipping her cards. Daphne reached to the cards, but Dudley stopped her.

Dudley flipped a straight. "Sorry, princess, I do." Daphne’s face fell, but that abrasiveness turned to determination.

As Harry watched with a sinking feeling, Daphne growled. “I want more chips. What are the rules for that.”

Harry sat slumped in his chair. He wanted to say something, but the room was spinning gently around him like a poorly cast Levitation Charm. Maybe he shouldn’t have consumed that much trying to drown the growing unease that had settled in his gut.

“Fine by me,” Dudley said, playing it gentle, which Harry appreciated.

Unfortunately, Hermione had other ideas. “No, not for freely. She can borrow some chips, but only if she gets punished once she loses.”

“What kind of punishment,” Daphne asked, her tone making Harry feel a chill.

“Nothing serious, just embarrassing. I hope the ice queen can handle those.”

“Fine,” Daphne growled, her cheeks flushed from frustration. “I don’t lose, you should fear for yourself,” she’d said, her voice sharp with that abrasive edge Harry knew so well from Hogwarts, impossible to interrupt once she started going.

But she kept losing.

Hand after hand slipped away. She played nice as far as Harry could see, but her bluffs were called, her luck was bad, her chips dwindling repeatedly. Her competitive fire only burned hotter; she leaned forward, elbows on the table, her strappy crop top slipping lower with every frustrated gesture, revealing more of her pale cleavage.

“Double or nothing,” she’d snapped at one point, eyes locked on Hermione. “Give me more chips.”

Hermione had tilted her head, her tied-up shirt riding higher as she shifted. “Fine. But, if you lose the next hand, you’ll sit on Dudley’s lap for the rest of the game.”

Harry’s stomach lurched. He opened his mouth to protest, but his tongue felt like lead, just like his arms. No words left his mouth. He should have been more careful while drinking, he decided, his thoughts slow.

But, it was too late.

He watched, helpless, as Daphne pushed her new pile of chips into the center aggressively, losing them in merely three hands. She stared at the cards, jaw tight, then shoved them away with a curse under her breath.

“Fine,” she said, voice clipped. “A deal’s a deal.”

She stood. He patted his thigh invitingly, and Daphne hesitated only a second before lowering herself onto his lap.

Harry was glad that they were at the other side. At least he didn’t have to see their bodies touching. Dudley’s arms settled loosely around her waist. Daphne stiffened at first, but then relaxed, her back straight, chin high, determined not to show weakness.

Harry stared, heart pounding. This felt wrong. Daphne was one of his future wives, and here she was, perched on his cousin’s lap like it was nothing. Dudley’s shoulder moved, implying his hand moved, likely, stroking her thigh in slow circles like he did back then targeting that brunette escort.

And Daphne didn’t push it away. She just shifted, trying to focus on the next hand, her breathing a little shallower.

The game continued. Daphne’s voice grew sharper with every loss, her bets more reckless, but she stayed on Dudley’s lap, as if proving she could handle it. Harry wanted to stand, to say something, to end this. But the room tilted when he tried to move, let alone stand up.

He could only watch, drunk and useless, as Dudley’s shoulder moved faster and faster. Daphne must have been feeling uncomfortable, as she shuffled back and forth constantly, looking for a better position…

&&&

Dudley kept his expression neutral, but inside he was grinning like a wolf. Daphne’s ass just landed on his lap, her body tensing as she felt his erection. Yet, competitiveness and humiliation worked their magic, and she settled without saying anything.

He wondered what she would have said if she knew she was playing with a marked deck, allowing Dudley to cheat. It played a big part in the game, with letting her win early, let her get cocky, then bleed her dry until she had nothing left but pride.

And pride was the currency that kept paying.

Daphne was tense at his lap, her back ramrod straight, that pureblood poise holding her together despite the flush creeping up her neck. The kitchen table hid most of it from view, not that Harry was in a mood to catch after the fortified cocktails he drank, which Dudley mixed only for him, claiming they were lighter.

Hermione dealt the next hand with a knowing smirk, her foot still teasing Dudley's ankle under the table. Perfect cover.

Daphne shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, but all it did was grind her shorts against his growing erection. Dudley wrapped one arm loosely around her waist, pulling her closer under the pretense of steadying her. "Relax, princess," he murmured low enough that only she could hear, his breath hot against her ear. "You lost the bet fair and square."

She didn't respond at first, her sharp green eyes fixed on the cards being flipped, the flop showing a king, ace, and seven. But Dudley wasn't focused on the game anymore, merely focused on maintaining the status quo. His free hand rested on her thigh, fingers tracing idle circles on the smooth skin exposed by her short hem. Higher, inching under the fabric where no one could see.

Daphne's breath hitched, her body going still as his fingertips brushed the edge of her shorts. She was damp before she even sat on his lap, aroused by the game itself.

Talk about being competitive.

Even better, she didn’t say anything while he took some liberties, afraid of losing face in front of Hermione. And, she was certainly too competitive to admit defeat by standing up. Her thighs pressed together instead to keep him from touching, and he entertained himself by caressing her outer thighs.

It wasn’t like he was in a hurry. They played several hands, Daphne slowly losing herself in the game once more, even starting to act unconsciously. Her legs parted back, and his fingers slipped inside, teasing her inner though. Daphne's hands clenched on the table edge, knuckles white, but she once again did not protest.

"Fold or call?" Hermione prompted innocently, her eyes flicking to them with amusement.

Daphne swallowed hard, her hips twitching against his hand. "C-call," she managed, voice strained.

Dudley grinned inwardly as Hermione stopped her from flipping her cards. “One second. Don’t forget you need to have another punishment if you lose those. ANd, I have an idea, you have to get naked.”

“T-that’s absurd,” Daphne gasped.

Hermione shrugged. “Don’t play if you can’t handle it.”

Daphne paused. “Fine, but I want you to get naked if you lose as well. More fair that way.”

“Sure,” Hermione said, with no issues stripping. They flipped, and Hermione lost; a deliberate ploy to make sure getting her naked wasn’t the end of Daphne’s patience.

They played, though it didn’t take long for Dudley to notice a naked Hermione meant Daphne was more distracted, getting more permissive to his touch. He finally dragged a finger up, caressing the edge of her wetness, alerting her for a second before he pulled back, leaving her gaping yet silent.

Though, her constant rocking added a new layer to his enjoyment.

He repeated it, his finger lingering a fraction of a second more with each repeat. His hand rested on her thigh, fingers tracing lazy patterns, inching higher with each hand dealt. Daphne tried to play it cool, her abrasive snark still sharp. “This is ridiculous, Granger, you’re bluffing again,” she said, but her voice hitched when his thumb brushed the edge of her core again, grazing the damp heat between her legs.

When she was distracted by collecting her chips, he released his cock so that it was right under her, pressing insistently against her ass through her thin shorts. “You can handle that much of a Muggle, right princess,” he whispered.

She said nothing. She shifted, trying to adjust, but only ground down harder, a soft gasp escaping her lips. “Focus on the game,” she muttered, but her hand trembled as she reached for her cards.

Hermione read the situation correctly, and escalated the situation with a big bet.

One that cost Daphne her clothes. “Fine,” she growled, but before she could strip, Hermione reached to her wand, and vanished Daphne’s clothes. She ended up naked, his cock lodged between her naked ass cheeks.

Dudley’s fingers slipped between her legs and stroked her slick folds slowly. Daphne’s breath caught, her hips twitching involuntarily. “Dudley—” she started, voice low, but he leaned in, murmuring against her ear, “Shh, princess. You lost the bet. Sit still and play.”

She bit her lip, trying to concentrate as he circled her clit with his thumb, slow and deliberate. Hermione put the next challenge. “Loser sucks Dudley’s cock,” Hermione said, and flipped her cards immediately, before letting Daphne even register a bet she would certainly reject.

Dudley could feel she was at her limit.

Luckily, that wasn’t the plan. This hand, they arranged for Hermione to lose. “Fine,” Daphne smirked and flipped her cards. “I win.” But, when she tried to stand up, Dudley grabbed her waist, just pushing the chair back. “What,” Daphne gasped. “I win.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re free of your other forfeit.”

“But … Hermione’s bet. She can’t do it while …”

“Of course she can,” Dudley answered, his hands tight around her hips as he lifted her, shifted slightly, and brought her back, so that his cock was between her legs, the side rubbing against her wetness.

Hermione was already in place, not letting Daphne to come up with an answer. She fell on her knees, and took his cock between her mouth.

Daphne froze. “T-this is absurd —“ she gasped, which was all she was able to say before Dudley escalated, slipping fingers inside, and started slamming mercilessly. Her breaths quickened, her control fraying. She gasped loudly.

“Careful, you’re going to wake Harry,” Dudley reminded. Daphne froze, like only then, she realized the true nature of the situation. Yet, her pussy tightened around his fingers. Dudley held her through it, his other arm tight around her waist, keeping her in place.

Hermione continued to suck him, but her hands were on Daphne’s legs, squeezing her thighs aggressively to add a touch of pain, then switching to caresses.

It was truly unfair was to educate a repressed pureblood about proper way to have sex.

Excited by the long tease, Dudley didn’t try to hold back when Hermione’s lips won. He merely quickened his fingers, bringing Daphne to a climax. Hermione stood up, her mouth full, and kissed Daphne, forcing her to swallow his cum.

A masterful touch, Dudley admitted even as he slipped his half-hard cock inside Daphne, her wet embrace quick to bring him back to life. Hermione continued to jam her tongue into Daphne’s mouth.

Any other girl, he would have played it slowly, but Daphne deserved some punishment after her insults against him. He tightened his grip on her hips, and started fucking her mercilessly, ravaging her tunnel with his massive girth.

Daphne was loud, gasps of pain mixing with moans of pleasure. The dichotomy had not improved when Dudley started adding spanks and slaps, treating her aggressively. Then, Hermione pulled back.

Daphne's cheeks were flushed deeper than before, her breaths coming in short, uneven puffs that she tried to conceal her reaction, but failing badly.

She soon controlled her voice somewhat, only letting out occasional small whimpers, disguised as frustration.

“Shake your hips, Daphne, don’t let Dudley do all the work,” Hermione ordered.

Dudley paused pushing, savoring the moment as Daphne's lithe body molded against him on his lap, her ass grinding down harder with each shift, quick to follow Hermione’s order, her competitiveness once again proving to be a treasure.

A hint of respect rose in him. She might be elitist, but when he'd lost the bet to Hermione fair and square—well, as fair as a rigged game could be—she obeyed, too competitive to bail. Her pureblood pride kept her planted, even as his cock filled her slick pussy aggressively.

Then, Hermione knelt down and started sucking her clit, the pleasure ruining the control Daphne managed to establish. She gasped, begged, moaned as Dudley fucked her aggressively, playing with her hardened nipples.

he stayed obedient, too overwhelmed to snap back. Her eyes darted to Harry, drunk and oblivious across the table, then to Hermione, licking her between her legs, and surrendered.

Dudley pumped his cock faster, feeling her pulse quicken. Daphne's thighs quivered as she ground down harder on his cock, the friction driving him wild.

"You're dripping, princess. Admit it—you like a Muggle taking control." She shook her head weakly.

“No, never,” she whispered.

Dudley smirked, wondering if he could change her mind if he fucked her until morning…