Harry Cotter and the Philosopher’s Brothel.
Boys, Slags & Perverts
“Look, we’re sorry. Just say something!” Ron, stood between Harry and Mi, cried out to the man. He’d taken them to his office, ignoring the kinky sex toys and handcuffs that were tied to the walls. One portrait stuck out, an enlarged scene from a pornographic movie with rather familiar photo shopped heads…
“What am I going to do with you?”
“Give us cake?” Mi suggested, filing away at her nails.
“No..Miss…erm…” he pondered over her name, giving up, “No, Miss Slag.”
“Atleast I aint got no cock for a nose.”
“We are not here to discuss my second penis, Miss Slag.” He pushed his glasses up his face, “We’re here to discuss why you were on the third floor.”
“Milk?” Harry suggested
“Cotter…”
“Sorry, sir.”
The man leant back in his chair, pushing his glasses up his face while mumbling something about having to get them tightened at the weekend.
“Boys…slag…”
“Pervert.” Ron whispered
“Yes, that I may be, but I do not attempt to reach the Philosopher’s Brothel without due cause.”
“How did…mind reader?” Harry suggested, pondering over this wizarding world that all seemed so new and shiny
“No. Mi told me in exchange for a date with Snarp.” The straight face of the man broke into a grin.
“What the f…” the ginger goth blinked in disbelief, the tiniest bit jealous that Mi would be going out with such a man, who in the goth’s opinion, was a true sex god in the highest form.
“Fudgical.” The teacher nodded. “Basically, why go after the whore?”
Mi began to explain her theory: Dangermouse wanted eternal life to take over the world. As far fetched as it was, it seemed to make sense, but the teacher just shook his head from side to side.
“The brothel and whore are safe…it’s you that are not.” It was obvious the man was getting tired and bored, often fidgeting about beneath his desk, maybe a loose draw was jammed they all assumed, a little too naively.
“What?”
“See, it’s after my 3pm ‘session’ and I’ve been busy with you guys and now I’m in the mood for a good spanking.”
Making an excuse about Figbitch and a lone elf, Harry and Ron ran, dragging their giggling friend out of the room; they weren’t so much in the mood to be molested by their own head teacher.
“What am I going to do with you?”
“Give us cake?” Mi suggested, filing away at her nails.
“No..Miss…erm…” he pondered over her name, giving up, “No, Miss Slag.”
“Atleast I aint got no cock for a nose.”
“We are not here to discuss my second penis, Miss Slag.” He pushed his glasses up his face, “We’re here to discuss why you were on the third floor.”
“Milk?” Harry suggested
“Cotter…”
“Sorry, sir.”
The man leant back in his chair, pushing his glasses up his face while mumbling something about having to get them tightened at the weekend.
“Boys…slag…”
“Pervert.” Ron whispered
“Yes, that I may be, but I do not attempt to reach the Philosopher’s Brothel without due cause.”
“How did…mind reader?” Harry suggested, pondering over this wizarding world that all seemed so new and shiny
“No. Mi told me in exchange for a date with Snarp.” The straight face of the man broke into a grin.
“What the f…” the ginger goth blinked in disbelief, the tiniest bit jealous that Mi would be going out with such a man, who in the goth’s opinion, was a true sex god in the highest form.
“Fudgical.” The teacher nodded. “Basically, why go after the whore?”
Mi began to explain her theory: Dangermouse wanted eternal life to take over the world. As far fetched as it was, it seemed to make sense, but the teacher just shook his head from side to side.
“The brothel and whore are safe…it’s you that are not.” It was obvious the man was getting tired and bored, often fidgeting about beneath his desk, maybe a loose draw was jammed they all assumed, a little too naively.
“What?”
“See, it’s after my 3pm ‘session’ and I’ve been busy with you guys and now I’m in the mood for a good spanking.”
Making an excuse about Figbitch and a lone elf, Harry and Ron ran, dragging their giggling friend out of the room; they weren’t so much in the mood to be molested by their own head teacher.