
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2734844.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Mundungus_Fletcher/Molly_Weasley_II/Lucy_Weasley/Audrey_Weasley
  Character:
      Mundungus_Fletcher, Audrey_Weasley, Molly_Weasley_II, Lucy_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      Extremely_Underage, Incest, Age_Difference, Coercion, Child_Abuse,
      Underage_Sex, Rape, Older_Man/Younger_Woman, Older_Woman/Younger_Woman,
      Lactation, Abuse_of_Authority, Infidelity, I'm_not_joking_it's_extremely
      underage, Please_heed_the_warnings_and_tags, Triggers, Characters_doing
      bad_things_but_not_thinking_they're_bad, dirty_old_man, Very_Young_Girls,
      Parent_mentally_and_physically_abusing_children
  Collections:
      HP_Het_Taboo
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-12-07 Words: 2601
****** We'll Never Tell ******
by Inell
Summary
     Dung blames it all on Shackelbolt for recruiting him to be Father
     Christmas this holiday season.
Notes
     PLEASE HEED THE TAGS AND WARNINGS!!!! I tried to mark everything
     triggery I could think of, but let me know if I missed anything.
     Inspired by the prompt of Father Christmas costume at HP Het Taboo.
It’s two weeks until Christmas, and the queue has been full all day. The bird
they’ve got prancing around in a skimpy costume has stopped people from getting
into the queue, so he’s only got three children left until his shift is
finished for another day. While he waits for the next child, he discreetly
takes a swig of firewhiskey from his flask before tucking it back into the
pocket of the overly large Father Christmas costume he’s wearing. As the boy
walks up to him, he deepens his voice and greets the kid with the standard ‘ho
ho ho’ that he’s said over a hundred times, at least, just this week.
The next kid is a little girl, and Dung feels that same stirring deep in his
gut as she climbs onto his lap. She can’t be more than five and has the biggest
green eyes and pretty blonde curls he’s seen all day. She wiggles around as she
tells him about the dollies she wants, her little arse rubbing right against
him, and he finds himself staring at the glimpses of creamy thigh that he sees
whenever her skirt rises up.
It’s all Shacklebolt’s fault, really, that Dung’s in this current predicament.
The Minister had recruited him to help out with a Muggle-Magical project by
playing the part of Father Christmas in Diagon Alley’s display this year. It’s
a widely known fact amongst certain circles that Dung likes sex, a lot, almost
as much as money and definitely more than drinking. His cock doesn’t seem to
care if it’s a twenty year old piece of arse wiggling on it or if it’s a bit of
virginal kiddy arse. It still gets hard, and it means he’s been thinking about
some really shocking and slightly disturbing stuff every night while he’s been
wanking himself raw.
While the wizarding world has different laws than the Muggle world, he knows
it’s frowned upon to get off on kids, especially those not even in school and
still young enough to believe some silly story about a fat bearded man giving
them presents. Course, he doesn’t rightly care about society’s views on shite,
never has and never will. It just makes him feel depraved to be wanking while
thinking about parting a little girl’s thighs and tasting her virgin cunt on
his tongue.
Thankfully, the cute blonde is finally finished, sliding off his lap in a
delicious bit of friction against his cock. The boy who follows her is even
younger, and Dung doesn’t even care that it’s a boy who is rubbing against him
now because it’s the end of a very long day and he hasn’t even had time for a
mid-afternoon wank yet. When the boy’s gone, he quickly gets up and says a
parting word to his helper before going back to the dressing area that’s been
set up for him.
Dung doesn’t even have his leather belt unfastened before there’s a knock on
the damn door.
“What is it?” he snaps, scratching at the fake beard that’s been charmed to
cover his own unshaven jaw.
“Father Christmas?” A female voice calls out, and he curses under his breath
because it’s either some daft parent or someone Shacklebolt sent to check on
him to ensure his sobriety.
He opens the door and sees a pretty woman standing there with two little girls.
“Sorry, kiddies. Father Christmas has to visit the North Pole to check on the
reindeer. Come back tomorrow.”
“You have reindeer?” The oldest of the girls says. She can’t be more than
eight, freckled face and red hair indicating she’s probably one of the many
Weasley spawn. Her green eyes are big as she blinks up at him.
“We were running late, Father Christmas,” her mum says, giving him a slight
smirk as she ushers her kids right past him like he didn’t just tell them to
get lost. “The girls are so excited to see you. Can’t you just speak with them
before taking your trip?”
“I’m not supposed to have anyone back here,” Dung mutters, rubbing at his hairy
jaw again before looking down at the two kids. “Fine. What’re your names?”
“I’m Molly, and this is my little sister, Lucy,” the eldest one tells him.
“She’s only four, but I’m eight!”
“Why don’t you climb on Father Christmas’ lap and tell him what you want for
Christmas, Molly?” her mum suggests, still smiling at him in that odd way.
“Yes, Mummy.” Molly waits until Dung is sitting down, then she’s climbing up.
The skirt of her dress rides up, and he blinks when he notices she’s not
wearing any knickers. Quickly looking up, he stares at her mum.
“You noticed, didn’t you?” Her mum looks satisfied. “I thought you had the
right look about you when I saw you last week. My girls are special, Father
Christmas. They know that nothing comes without a price, and they’re willing to
pay it. Aren’t you, babies?”
The littlest one nods and buries her face against her mum’s leg, while Molly
smiles widely. “We’re special, Father Christmas,” she repeats, the missing
tooth at the front of her mouth giving her a lisp that makes Dung’s cock
twitch. “I want a broom this year. Daddy says I’m too young, but my cousin,
Rose, already has one.”
“Why don’t you show Father Christmas your cunny, baby girl?” Her mum is closer
now, watching intently. “That’s a good girl. Pull your skirt up and let him see
you. Isn’t it pretty, Father Christmas? You can touch it, if you want. We’ll
never tell.”
“What’re you doing?” he demands, knowing this must be some kind of set up.
Molly has her skirt bunched around her waist, her little cunt bare and rubbing
against the fabric of his uniform.
“Sharing a particular interest with you?” Their mum is shaking her head. “Molly
enjoys it. Touch her cunny and watch her face. She likes having things inside
her. Don’t you, baby?”
“I do, Father Christmas. Mummy’s taught me,” Molly tells him earnestly. She
blinks up at him with those wide eyes, and Dung can’t resist.
“It’s very pretty,” he murmurs, reaching out to stroke his finger over her dry
lips. She’s pale and freckled all over, and he can see the dirt beneath his
fingernails as he rubs her cunt.
“Can I suck on him now, Mummy?” Molly looks at her mum as she keeps rubbing
herself on his hand. “You said Father Christmas will definitely bring me a
broom if I suck him.”
“Merlin,” he groans, not even waiting for her mum to agree before he’s fumbling
with the leather belt of his uniform and getting it unfastened. Maybe his flask
has been poisoned, and this is just some twisted fantasy, but he doesn’t care.
He’s so fucking hard already just from her wiggling and feeling his first
little girl cunt.
“Look at how hard you’ve made him, baby. That’s a good girl, pleasing Father
Christmas so much.” Her mum smiles. “Now remember our lessons. Lick him all
over then suck him like a sugarquill.”
“Okay, Mummy.” Molly slides off his lap and stands between his legs, staring
down as Dung shoves the uniform pants down far enough to pull out his hard
cock. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. “It’s so big.”
“Suck my cock, baby slut,” he tells her, rubbing his cock as he looks at her
pretty little face.
“Why don’t you take your dress off first, Molly? We don’t want Father Christmas
to make a mess on it.” Her mum smiles down at the youngest girl. “We’ll take
your dress off, too, Lucy. Then you can sit on Father Christmas’ lap while your
sister licks him.”
Dung watches as both little girls remove their dresses, neither one wearing
knickers. Their chests are flat, not even any nubs developing, and he licks his
lips as he thinks about how perverse the entire thing is, finding it even more
of a turn on than his own fantasies had been. He looks at their mum, admiring
the large tits pressed against her robe, and he nods at her. “You should get
naked, too. I wanna see your tits. Or else Father Christmas won’t be bringing
any broomsticks.”
“Mummy, you must!” Molly stomps her foot. “I want my broomstick so I can fly
like Rosie.”
“Of course.” Their mum shrugs off her robes, her tits even more magnificent
than he expects. She’s a natural blonde, too. Full hips, curvy belly, and a
patch of blonde curls above her cunt all have his cock hardening even more than
the baby cunts. Good. He’s not broken, then, just immoral.
Content that her mum hasn’t displeased Father Christmas, Molly turns back to
her task. She licks Dung’s cock, her mouth looking so small against his girth
as she laps at the pre-come. She wrinkles her nose slightly. “You stink,” she
says bluntly, which makes him reach out and grip her curly red hair so he can
force her face into his crotch.
“Don’t be rude, Molly,” her mum warns, before she lifts little Lucy onto his
right thigh. “Now tell Father Christmas what you want, Lucy.”
The little girl is obviously shy, and she ducks her head as she whispers, “I
wanna dolly and a puppy, please.”
Molly is licking at his cock again, her little mouth sucking on the head, and
Dung can feel the bare cunt of Lucy against his leg. Their mum is fondling her
huge tits, smirking at him as she teases the nipples. “What’re you gonna do for
that puppy, Lucy?”
She blinks big brown eyes up at him before tugging on her mum’s hand. She
whispers something to her mum before she looks back at him.
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Lucy.” Her mum ruffles her hair. “Would you
like to lick her cunny, Father Christmas? It’s the most delicious cunny you’ll
ever taste.”
Dung bucks up at the words, listening to Molly cough as he sends more of his
cock into her mouth than she can take. “Yes, I’d like that very much.” The four
year old is so small that he can easily pick her up and hold her up against his
mouth, her legs on either side of his face, hanging over the back of his chair
as he leans in for his first taste of baby cunt.
“Fuck,” their mum says, stepping back to watch while she keeps squeezing her
tits. “Molly, you have to suck more of Father Christmas’ cock or you won’t get
that broomstick. Remember our lessons. That’s a good girl. Let him fuck your
face, baby girl. Now don’t cry. He’s not hurting you.”
“I can’t breathe, Mummy.” Molly’s voice sounds odd, hoarse, and he can’t help
sticking his tongue deeper inside Lucy’s cunt as he realizes it’s because he’s
had his cock in her throat. Lucy is wiggling around, her tiny bum scooting back
and forth against his palms, and he likes to think it’s because she’s feeling
so good, even though he’s not sure someone so young can even feel sexual
feelings like that.
“If Father Christmas can’t give you his special blessing in your mouth, you’ll
have to let him spill it in your cunny,” their mum says, and Dung moans and
almost comes right there hearing her say such things to her own daughter.
“Will you help me, Mummy?” Molly asks, and Dung has to raise Lucy so he catch
their mum lift Molly up onto his lap. Their mum’s tits are hanging over her
little girl’s shoulders as she positions her over his cock.
“You’re too dry, baby girl. It’ll hurt if you take him now.” Their mum is
rubbing her fingers over Molly’s bare cunt, and she winks at Dung before she
shoves her hand into her own cunt, bringing wet fingers back to her daughter’s.
“Mummy’ll help get you ready, just like her mummy helped her so many years ago.
Did you know Mummy met Father Christmas when she was your age, doodle bug?”
“Really?” Molly’s eyes are wide as she looks at her mum, her cunny slowly
getting slick from her own mum’s arousal. Dung can’t stop watching, even as
little Lucy wiggles around wanting his attention.
“Yep. Father Christmas gave me his special blessing, and I grew up to meet your
father and have you two beautiful angels.” Their mum is now fucking two fingers
into her own daughter, getting her ready for a stranger’s cock, and Dung thinks
he might be a little in love with the woman who could do such a thing while
smiling. “Now it’s your turn for a special blessing, baby. You’re ready now.”
“Fucking bugger wanker shite,” Dung curses as the tightest cunt he’s ever felt
begins to slide down on his cock. Mummy holds it steady, and she’s grinning at
him as her daughter begins to lower herself on it. She makes encouraging
noises, praising her daughter and helping her move up and down until half his
cock is inside her. There’s no way anymore of it will fit, not without really
damaging the girl, and he doesn’t want to do that.
“Lucy, baby, why don’t you come help Mummy and let your sister play with Father
Christmas.” Mummy has picked up one of the thick fake candy canes that line the
path to his throne outside, and she’s fucking it into her cunt steadily while
watching Molly bounce up and down on his cock.
Dung sets Lucy down, moving his hands to grip Molly’s hips as he starts bucking
up into her, managing to get a little more length of his cock into her. Lucy
goes to where Mummy is and latches onto her nipple, sucking like it’s something
she does all the time, and Dung moves his gaze back and forth between Molly
riding his cock, Lucy sucking Mummy’s nipple, and Mummy fucking that thick
candy cane like a horny slut.
It doesn’t take long with the tight cunt gripping him before he’s coming,
groaning and grunting as his cock spurts seed inside Molly. Mummy seems to get
off on seeing his come dripping off her daughter’s thighs when he pulls her
off, as she comes soon after. “Lucy, go taste your sister’s special blessing
from Father Christmas. In another year or two, you’ll be able to receive your
own.”
“Merlin,” Dung whispers, watching the two little girls together. Mummy climbs
onto his lap, rubbing his spent cock as she slides her wet cunt back and forth
over his thigh. When she pushes her tit into his mouth, he starts sucking,
tasting an odd flavor, realizing she’s still breast feeding when milk spills
onto his tongue. His cock twitches in her hand as he stares at Lucy between her
sister’s thighs.
Later, after Mummy has exhausted him, the girls are dressed again and look so
sweet and angelic that Dung can’t believe it. His Father Christmas uniform is
covered in wet patches of sweat and come, and he can barely move, his cock’s so
sore. Mummy looks prim and proper as she arches a brow at him. “Come along,
girls. We need to get home before Daddy leaves work.”
“Am I gonna get my broomstick, Father Christmas? Was I good girl?” Molly asks,
looking hopeful and eager.
“Molly, don’t be rude,” Mummy says before Dung can reply. She looks right at
him and winks. “We’ll have to visit him again so you can prove what a nice girl
you are. Perhaps next time, Father Christmas will even have his reindeer.”
End
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