Chapter 13: Dudley's Wanking Fantasy

Since Potter and his friend had arrived, Dudley had acquired a new wanking fantasy -- doing it with Colin.  Wizard or not, the boy was cute; and although he said he was fifteen, he looked about twelve.  Only one year younger than Potter, he was at least five inches shorter.

Dudley had about crapped in his pants when he'd heard the boy say that he and Harry Potter were lovers, and that Potter was fucking his bum.  Fucking another boy had been Dudley's fantasy for several years, but finding a boy who would let him do it, hadn't been possible.  Dudley wasn't popular. "Pig Dud," they called him; and every time they did, he was reminded of the pig's tail Potter's big friend had grown on him.

Now-- in his house -- was a boy who wanted to be fucked.  He'd never heard a boy say that.  His school had gay boys, but none of them liked Dudley.  They thought he was a bully.

When Colin said that Potter fucked him, he seemed to be bragging.  He must like  it.  Maybe he'd let Dudley do it, too.  Potter was a loser.  Dudley was better than he.  Potter's parents had been losers, too.  Dudley's parents had said that countless times, so it must be so.  Why else would his mother say that about her own sister?

Colin was a friendly boy and seemed to like him.  Unlike Potter, he was always smiling and said, "Hello, Dudley," whenever they passed.  But Dudley rarely had an opportunity to speak to him.  If his parents were present, they cautioned him, when he replied to Colin, saying, "We don't talk to HIS kind." 

They wouldn't acknowledge Colin, acting like they hadn't even heard him, even though he continued to greet them with a wide grin.  The boy might be stupid, but he had a cute arse-- a delicious arse.  Dudley got hard every time he saw it.

He wondered whether Potter was fucking Colin.  Dudley's father had forbidden it..  But that wouldn't have stopped Dudley.  He paid no attention to his parents.

One day, after the boys been at his house for three weeks, Dudley saw Colin go into the bathroom with a towel draped over his shoulder.  He heard the lock click, as Colin closed the door.  Of course, that wouldn't stop Dudley.  He could open it by sticking something into the hole in the center of the door handle.

His parents weren't home.  Dudley had managed to stay, even though they were reluctant to leave him alone with Potter and Colin.  He'd said he was sick to his stomach.  Of course, that had almost backfired because his mother hadn't wanted to leave him, if he were sick.  But he'd convinced her he would be all right.  I'll just take a seltzer and lie down," he'd said."

Potter was up in his room.  If Dudley were quick and quiet, Potter wouldn't hear him.  He would put his hand over the boy's mouth and take him from the rear. 

Colin would probably like it from him more than from Potter, anyway.  Maybe he'd get to fuck him all the time.  In his fantasies, Colin slept with him; and they did it every night -- sometimes two or three times.

Besides, it was his house.  What right did Potter have to fuck Colin in his house?  If anyone was going to fuck him, it should be Dudley.  If he fucked Colin, he would only be asserting his rights.

Finding a long, thin, nail that would fit the hole in the doorknob, Dudley walked to the bathroom door.  He could hear the shower running.  Colin was singing --some ditty about wizards -- but Dudley couldn't hear all the words.  Sticking the nail into the hole, Dudley heard a click as the lock button popped out on the other side.  He waited a moment; Colin kept singing.

Dudley dropped his trousers, kicking them off his feet.  He wanted to be ready when he grabbed the boy.  His cock already was -- hard and throbbing.

The bathroom was full of steam -- the mirror misted over -- the shower curtain drawn.  Dudley could see Colin's shadowy form on the other side of the curtain.  He must not have heard Dudley; he still sang.  When Colin bent over to wash his feet, Dudley jumped into the tub, grabbing him from behind.  For as big as he was, Dudley had moved quickly, perhaps having sufficient motivation to hurry for the first time.

Colin squawked as Dudley grabbed him around the waist.  Turning his head, he started to speak, but Dudley put his hand over his mouth, pulling Colin's arse to him with the other.  With a wiggle of his arse, he found Colin's hole.  His cock pressed against it -- then went in.  Colin screamed something into his hand, but Dudley paid no attention.  All his consciousness was focused on his cock.  Colin's hole was hot and tight.  Dudley hadn't known anything could feel that good.

He came, squirting into Colin's arse, the best orgasm he'd ever had; but Colin's tight arse hadn't been what had made it so good.  Power: that had made it good. 

He hadn't had to ask Colin for a fuck.  He had taken it; and there had been nothing Colin could have done.  It didn't matter whether Colin liked it.  Dudley had wanted him; and Dudley had fucked him.  He was already thinking about other boys he could take the same way.  Colin looked twelve.

Other twelve year-old boys lived nearby.  Almost six feet tall, Dudley weighed over two hundred seventy pounds.  What chance would a twelve year-old boy have against him?

Dropping his hand down around Colin's throat, he squeezed.  "Don't tell anyone about this," he said.  "If you do, I'll break your friggin neck.  And I'll have you any time I want you, or I'll kill you and Potter.  No one will care.  Other than me and my parents, no one even knows you exist. 

He squeezed until Colin passed out.  He was still alive.  Dudley could see his chest rise and fall, as he lay in a fetal position on the bottom of the tub, water from the shower streaming over him.  Laying on his right side, Colin's left leg covered his crotch.  Dudley turned him over to take a look at his pickle --

He had none!  No dobber or nadgers; just sparse, blond, pubic hair -- nothing else.  All wizards weren't like that.  Potter had a pecker.  Dudley had seen it when they were younger.  He wanted to ask Colin what had happened to him; Colin stirred -- was about to awake; but perhaps it would be better if Dudley weren't there when he did.  Let him remember Dudley's hands around his throat, instead of a question about what had happened to his genitals.