Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Pregnancy Can Be A Bitch ❯ Artificial Insemination ( Chapter 4 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Sleep Remedy 
Ron undergoes artificial insemination via the lovely Death Eater Quartet.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 12.08.2010 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 694 | Status: Work In Progress
Ron undergoes artificial insemination via the lovely Death Eater Quartet.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 12.08.2010 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 694 | Status: Work In Progress
Chapter Four: Snot Bubble Up the Bum
Ron came too as many people will tell you that you come too after being viciously pummeled over the back of the head. Painfully.
As stars exploded behind his eyes, Ron attempted to focus his sight on the shadowy figures moving around him and shuffling back and forth in the background. Pain blossomed where his head was being pillows in the tilted back chair. ... chair...?
Slowly realizing his position, Ron struggled against the bonds that held his wrists against the arm rests, chest against the back rest, and his ankles high in the air in the stirrups. Ah, the stirrups.
“What in the hell...?” he muttered in fear as he began to realize that he had been strapped in, naked, to some strange mutant cross between a dentist's and birthing chair. “What is this?!” Ron yelped indignantly, as he struggled against his bonds.
“Oh, oh, oh! Don't struggle so, Ronny, you'll hurt yourself!” Peter reprimanded, hovering worriedly to Ron's right.
Ron only barely stopped to glare at the strange, squat little man before going back to angrily shaking the entire contraption back and forth with his struggling.
Just at that moment, Voldemort strolled into the ominously lighted room with his normal panache, immediately sending Ron into tremors.
“A-ah, no...” he began to cry, big shining tears rolling down his cheeks and a small line of snot beginning to drip from his nose. “I never thought that things like in Ginny's book ever really happened, but... You're going to rape me, aren't you~!” Ron wailed, collapsing into inconsolable tears while Peter flitted around him worriedly, babbling about stress and how it hurts babies.
Voldemort watched Ron blubber for a long moment, his snaky eyes narrowed at the pathetic young man as he cried shamelessly in front of him.
“Not a chance, you twat!” Voldemort spat, smacking Ron's poor unprotected penis with his wand in reprimand, causing the boy to yelp and stop crying out of surprise and pain. “I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last piece of jail bait ass in the entire wizarding world! Hell, even muggle girls don't want to sleep with you! It's the only reason you're here, after all, you idiot,” Voldemort finished venomously.
Of course, the great viciousness of his verbal attack, paired with the stinging in Ron's wanger only caused the young red head to begin to hiccup, tears and snot running down his face just the same as before.
“Oh, nutterbutters!” Voldemort exclaimed in frustration.
“... Nutterbutters...?” Death Eater Number Five muttered skeptically from the shadows.
“Shh! Shut up!” his fellow Death Eaters chorused from around him.
His hearing already considerably less than it was in his younger years, Voldemort didn't hear his disgraceful excuses for Death Eaters questioning his sanity behind his back.
Sighing, Voldemort turned to Peter Pettigrew. “Peter, you explain it to the little prat.”
Peter shuffled up to Ron's side, rubbing his hands and smiling elatedly, obvious feeling that things couldn't be going any better for himself and his master plan.
“You see, Ron, you've been given a great responsibility and blessing!” Peter began to explain, missing the shudders of the four death eaters in the shadows, though Ron definitely didn't. “Lord Voldemort needs a successor and he has chosen none other than you to carry his child until its birth!”
“What?! Wouldn't it be much easier to have a girl do something like that?” Ron squeaked, as he attempted to sidle down further into the adjustable chair.
“Oh, how disgusting,” Voldemort gagged. “My child come out of a twat?! I've never,” he gasped.
“... But, Mister Lord of Darkness...” Ron muttered. “Weren't you...?”
“N-now, Ron!” Peter jumped in, before Voldemort could ask for Ron to repeat himself, as his bad hearing hadn't caught Ron's fearful mutterings. “You mustn't worry about a thing! I'll be watching over every moment of your pregnancy! You or the baby won't want for a thing~” Peter sang, happily showing that he had been planning for Ron's pregnancy for a suspiciously long time.
“No! No, no, no!” Ron began yell, shaking his head back and forth quickly, obviously experiencing a small scaled mental break down. “Please no! Harry! Please, somebody help me!” he yelped frantically.
“Harry?! Why, you whore!” Voldemort screeched, leaping towards Ron in jealous rage, his Death Eaters only stopping him a few feet from Ron.
Ron was so startled that he stopped crying and yelling and watched the most amazing sight of a group of four scrawny Death Eaters dragging the great Lord Voldemort away as he screamed obscenities more than worthy of the Jerry Springer show.
“You hussy! You don't deserve him! If he only knew what he was missing with me, he would never give your ginger ass another glance!” Voldemort declared as he was hustled out of the room thrown over the shoulder of Death Eater Number Four.
Taking advantage of the awkward silence that followed, Peter moved in between Ron's vulgarly spread legs. Placing his little shrewy hands on the inside of either of Ron's thighs and smiling his beady smile, Peter continued to explain. “It's really not as difficult as you may have been lead to think! You see, we just inseminated you with the Lord's seed, while it's engulfed with an artificial and magical uterus! It will make your body compatible with the child and act as all the female organs for you! You see, and then it will just come back out the way it came in. Right...”
But, the end of Peter's explanation was lost in the sound of Ron's mournful wailing and struggling as he made his last attempts/appeals for freedom from the most deeply threatening butt babies.
“I don't think you're making this any easier on him. I would suggest a quick stick,” Death Eater Number Five said from over Peter's shoulder.
“Eyah! When did you get here?” Peter yelped, disappointed that his special alone time with Ron had been interrupted.
“Does that really matter, at this point? If he keeps wailing like that, he's going to pop a lung or something. Better to get it over with.”
“I can't do something so insensitive! This is a very special time, right now! We're creating a life!” Peter threw back.
“I can,” Number Four said flatly.
“And, I've got the sperm!” Number Two said energetically.
“...Where did you get that?” asked Five. “I thought Voldemort hadn't been able to get it up, yet.”
“Well,” Two explained awkwardly. “I suppose he got so fiery over Harry Potter that he... Well...”
“Understood!” Number Five said, immediately. “No need to say anymore!”
“And, poor Number One just couldn't get away in time...” Two continued.
“I said, I've got it!” Five yelled.
“But, I still managed to catch the pop fly with an ash tray!” Two said with accomplishment.
“Dear God, I told you I didn't want it...” Number Five muttered into his hand, as he attempted to stop picturing Lord Voldemort sending a pop fly into the air over Number One's, probably, sobbing form.
“Well, at least we've got it,” Number Four said curtly, picking up the semen spots in the ash tray with the tip of his wand and holding it there like a little white snot ball.
As he carried the snot ball towards Ron, his screams reached a new pitch as Ron began to plead with God to spare his testicles.
“Hold it still... I'll ... spell it...” Number Five muttered.
“Are you okay?” Two asked innocently.
“Trying not to barf! Don't throw my concentration...” Five commanded before he pointed his wand at the dejected little snot ball and began to cast an intricate web of spells onto it.
Everyone was very patiently quiet, with the exception of Ron, of course, as Five finished his incantation over his Lord's pickled sperm. Finally, the Death Eater sighed and said, “It's done,” and nodded solemnly to Number Four.
“Let me do it, let me do it!” Peter squeaked as he reached for Four's wand, only to be shoved out of the way, via Four's hand on his face. With a rather rat like squeak, Pettigrew's rolly polly body fell to the floor and Four continued his menacing approach towards Ron's poor little virgin ass.
“No! No, please! Anything, but this! I'll do anything! Not his spuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunk!” Ron screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice breaking and jumping up an octave as Four heartlessly shoved the tip of his wand, snot ball still magically (for real, magically. ... Aha, pun.) attached to the tip into Ron's anus and past his sphincter.
“Spermus Injectus” Number Four intoned and Ron squeaked again as the sperm snot ball was magically pushed deeper into his ass, scaring Ron so deeply that the abused red head finally passed out in true catching style.
A long pause followed in which all three Death Eaters stared at Ron's immobile form and Peter complained with a definitive pout on the floor where he had fallen.
Finally, Death Eater Number Five made his trademark sigh. “We're all going to hell, aren't we?” he asked.
From somewhere deep in their lair, they heard their Lord scream, “Avada Kedavra, you sonuvabitch!” followed shortly by Number One's dying howl.
“What luck, we're already here!” Two replied, energetically.
“.....”
Ron came too as many people will tell you that you come too after being viciously pummeled over the back of the head. Painfully.
As stars exploded behind his eyes, Ron attempted to focus his sight on the shadowy figures moving around him and shuffling back and forth in the background. Pain blossomed where his head was being pillows in the tilted back chair. ... chair...?
Slowly realizing his position, Ron struggled against the bonds that held his wrists against the arm rests, chest against the back rest, and his ankles high in the air in the stirrups. Ah, the stirrups.
“What in the hell...?” he muttered in fear as he began to realize that he had been strapped in, naked, to some strange mutant cross between a dentist's and birthing chair. “What is this?!” Ron yelped indignantly, as he struggled against his bonds.
“Oh, oh, oh! Don't struggle so, Ronny, you'll hurt yourself!” Peter reprimanded, hovering worriedly to Ron's right.
Ron only barely stopped to glare at the strange, squat little man before going back to angrily shaking the entire contraption back and forth with his struggling.
Just at that moment, Voldemort strolled into the ominously lighted room with his normal panache, immediately sending Ron into tremors.
“A-ah, no...” he began to cry, big shining tears rolling down his cheeks and a small line of snot beginning to drip from his nose. “I never thought that things like in Ginny's book ever really happened, but... You're going to rape me, aren't you~!” Ron wailed, collapsing into inconsolable tears while Peter flitted around him worriedly, babbling about stress and how it hurts babies.
Voldemort watched Ron blubber for a long moment, his snaky eyes narrowed at the pathetic young man as he cried shamelessly in front of him.
“Not a chance, you twat!” Voldemort spat, smacking Ron's poor unprotected penis with his wand in reprimand, causing the boy to yelp and stop crying out of surprise and pain. “I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last piece of jail bait ass in the entire wizarding world! Hell, even muggle girls don't want to sleep with you! It's the only reason you're here, after all, you idiot,” Voldemort finished venomously.
Of course, the great viciousness of his verbal attack, paired with the stinging in Ron's wanger only caused the young red head to begin to hiccup, tears and snot running down his face just the same as before.
“Oh, nutterbutters!” Voldemort exclaimed in frustration.
“... Nutterbutters...?” Death Eater Number Five muttered skeptically from the shadows.
“Shh! Shut up!” his fellow Death Eaters chorused from around him.
His hearing already considerably less than it was in his younger years, Voldemort didn't hear his disgraceful excuses for Death Eaters questioning his sanity behind his back.
Sighing, Voldemort turned to Peter Pettigrew. “Peter, you explain it to the little prat.”
Peter shuffled up to Ron's side, rubbing his hands and smiling elatedly, obvious feeling that things couldn't be going any better for himself and his master plan.
“You see, Ron, you've been given a great responsibility and blessing!” Peter began to explain, missing the shudders of the four death eaters in the shadows, though Ron definitely didn't. “Lord Voldemort needs a successor and he has chosen none other than you to carry his child until its birth!”
“What?! Wouldn't it be much easier to have a girl do something like that?” Ron squeaked, as he attempted to sidle down further into the adjustable chair.
“Oh, how disgusting,” Voldemort gagged. “My child come out of a twat?! I've never,” he gasped.
“... But, Mister Lord of Darkness...” Ron muttered. “Weren't you...?”
“N-now, Ron!” Peter jumped in, before Voldemort could ask for Ron to repeat himself, as his bad hearing hadn't caught Ron's fearful mutterings. “You mustn't worry about a thing! I'll be watching over every moment of your pregnancy! You or the baby won't want for a thing~” Peter sang, happily showing that he had been planning for Ron's pregnancy for a suspiciously long time.
“No! No, no, no!” Ron began yell, shaking his head back and forth quickly, obviously experiencing a small scaled mental break down. “Please no! Harry! Please, somebody help me!” he yelped frantically.
“Harry?! Why, you whore!” Voldemort screeched, leaping towards Ron in jealous rage, his Death Eaters only stopping him a few feet from Ron.
Ron was so startled that he stopped crying and yelling and watched the most amazing sight of a group of four scrawny Death Eaters dragging the great Lord Voldemort away as he screamed obscenities more than worthy of the Jerry Springer show.
“You hussy! You don't deserve him! If he only knew what he was missing with me, he would never give your ginger ass another glance!” Voldemort declared as he was hustled out of the room thrown over the shoulder of Death Eater Number Four.
Taking advantage of the awkward silence that followed, Peter moved in between Ron's vulgarly spread legs. Placing his little shrewy hands on the inside of either of Ron's thighs and smiling his beady smile, Peter continued to explain. “It's really not as difficult as you may have been lead to think! You see, we just inseminated you with the Lord's seed, while it's engulfed with an artificial and magical uterus! It will make your body compatible with the child and act as all the female organs for you! You see, and then it will just come back out the way it came in. Right...”
But, the end of Peter's explanation was lost in the sound of Ron's mournful wailing and struggling as he made his last attempts/appeals for freedom from the most deeply threatening butt babies.
“I don't think you're making this any easier on him. I would suggest a quick stick,” Death Eater Number Five said from over Peter's shoulder.
“Eyah! When did you get here?” Peter yelped, disappointed that his special alone time with Ron had been interrupted.
“Does that really matter, at this point? If he keeps wailing like that, he's going to pop a lung or something. Better to get it over with.”
“I can't do something so insensitive! This is a very special time, right now! We're creating a life!” Peter threw back.
“I can,” Number Four said flatly.
“And, I've got the sperm!” Number Two said energetically.
“...Where did you get that?” asked Five. “I thought Voldemort hadn't been able to get it up, yet.”
“Well,” Two explained awkwardly. “I suppose he got so fiery over Harry Potter that he... Well...”
“Understood!” Number Five said, immediately. “No need to say anymore!”
“And, poor Number One just couldn't get away in time...” Two continued.
“I said, I've got it!” Five yelled.
“But, I still managed to catch the pop fly with an ash tray!” Two said with accomplishment.
“Dear God, I told you I didn't want it...” Number Five muttered into his hand, as he attempted to stop picturing Lord Voldemort sending a pop fly into the air over Number One's, probably, sobbing form.
“Well, at least we've got it,” Number Four said curtly, picking up the semen spots in the ash tray with the tip of his wand and holding it there like a little white snot ball.
As he carried the snot ball towards Ron, his screams reached a new pitch as Ron began to plead with God to spare his testicles.
“Hold it still... I'll ... spell it...” Number Five muttered.
“Are you okay?” Two asked innocently.
“Trying not to barf! Don't throw my concentration...” Five commanded before he pointed his wand at the dejected little snot ball and began to cast an intricate web of spells onto it.
Everyone was very patiently quiet, with the exception of Ron, of course, as Five finished his incantation over his Lord's pickled sperm. Finally, the Death Eater sighed and said, “It's done,” and nodded solemnly to Number Four.
“Let me do it, let me do it!” Peter squeaked as he reached for Four's wand, only to be shoved out of the way, via Four's hand on his face. With a rather rat like squeak, Pettigrew's rolly polly body fell to the floor and Four continued his menacing approach towards Ron's poor little virgin ass.
“No! No, please! Anything, but this! I'll do anything! Not his spuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunk!” Ron screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice breaking and jumping up an octave as Four heartlessly shoved the tip of his wand, snot ball still magically (for real, magically. ... Aha, pun.) attached to the tip into Ron's anus and past his sphincter.
“Spermus Injectus” Number Four intoned and Ron squeaked again as the sperm snot ball was magically pushed deeper into his ass, scaring Ron so deeply that the abused red head finally passed out in true catching style.
A long pause followed in which all three Death Eaters stared at Ron's immobile form and Peter complained with a definitive pout on the floor where he had fallen.
Finally, Death Eater Number Five made his trademark sigh. “We're all going to hell, aren't we?” he asked.
From somewhere deep in their lair, they heard their Lord scream, “Avada Kedavra, you sonuvabitch!” followed shortly by Number One's dying howl.
“What luck, we're already here!” Two replied, energetically.
“.....”