Hairy Potter-- beginnings
Hairy always knew he was special. Well, maybe not special, but different. He knew his parents had been killed in an auto crash sometime in his infancy, and that he had been raised by his maternal aunt, Petunia Dursley, and her obese husband, Vernon. As far back as the young mouse could recall, the Dursleys seemed to merely tolerate their nephew, at best. At worst, they despised him for reasons he could never understand. But that was just on the surface. Aunty Petunia, a trim, attractive woman of thirty-eight, seemed to have a soft spot for her young nephew. And that spot was betwixt her legs. Whenever Hairy found himself alone in the house with Petunia, she would briskly whisk him up to the master bedroom, strip off his togs, and mount him with seemingly wild abandon. She was quite a different person during those sessions, cooing words of love and affection to her ward, kissing him hotly all over his body, and riding him hard to a point where her body would begin to shake and spasm. She had confided in Hairy that his cock was different, larger than any other mouse, and most other animals to boot. Hairy always assumed it was just a family trait. Hairy became aware of a curious phenomenon very early on with Petunia. The more aggressively he fucked her, the harder he hammered her yielding body, the more she seemed to like it, the more she responded with greater emotion. When he pulled his crank out of her sopping twat and shot his beans all over her upturned face the better she seemed to act. And the more his actions seemed degrading, the better he felt, as if empowered. If was as if he was siphoning off some of her life-force with each defilement, and with that his power seemed to grow. You see, Petunia only had one child, a rotund bully of a lad named Dudley, about Hairy's own age. He was a brute and spoiled rotten. He had been a difficult pregnancy and delivery for Petunia, being an abnormally large baby, and he had been delivered side-ways. With the unusual delivery had come unusual stretching and tearing of Petunia's cunt, so that she was left with a cavernous minge that only Hairy seemed fit to fill. Petunia had confided in Hairy once, as they lay gasping and panting after a rousing session, that her husband never even tried to satisfy her in a husbandly fashion after Dudley was born, finding his meager equipment unsuited to the task of arousing her. But, as was custom, immediately after Hairy and Petunia had redonned their clothing her attitude towards him would change, from the loving, sex-starved succubus to the mean, resentful aunt--the face she wore in public. Hairy had learned to live with this stark transformation. Indeed, he thought it was probably normal, not knowing any better. In order for Hairy to fit in with his chums at school Petunia had insisted her wear unfashionably baggy trousers and tighty-white shorts several sizes too small. This helped to camouflage his prodigious package. This worked fine until the boy reached middle school, where the children had to engage in physical education that necessitated showering in school. When the other boys caught their first glimpse of the mouse boy's monstrous wanger the first time they were stunned into silence. Hairy couldn't help but notice that his thing was much-- much larger-- than any other boy's in his class. After a period of resentful awe, the boys began laughing at Hairy, calling him a 'freak'. Hairy hung his head in shame, tears welling in his eyes. It wasn't long before the secret confined in the mouse's trousers was known all over the school. Girls would point him out and giggle, boys would sneer and jeer at him. He was a proper outcast in school as a result. Hairy occupied a small, cramped closet under the stairs in the Dursley home. Because of the unusual geometry of his room he could only stand in one small portion of the space. In his little enclave he kept his meager belongings; a few toys, some books, and a fairly respectable collection of wank material. The latter he kept well hidden under his mattress. Every night the mouse would lay in his bed, pulling on his oversized crank, looking at pictures of beautiful women in the buff and dreaming of meeting some woman, someday, who would treat him with a modicum of kindness. He had to use a large woolen sock over his junk because when it finally erupted it shot copious amounts of spewage, enough to soak his bed and pajamas and hit the slanted ceiling above his bed.
Hairy found, by conscious control, he could postpone his ejaculation as long as he wanted. He would wail away for over an hour with ease, and climax on demand. He practices this skill with his aunt, mostly to prolong her periods of kindness towards him. One day, near his eighteenth birthday, a curious thing happened. A letter arrived for Hairy in the morning post. Curious because Hairy had never received a letter, or a card, or a package in his life. This letter was different from the usual bills the Dursleys received. It was small, square, and had an old-fashioned wax seal on it. The address seemed to have been written with pen-and-ink, seldom seen nowadays. Further, the envelope seemed to be made of a rough sort of parchment. "I'll have that!" his uncle had shouted, snatching the as-yet unopened letter from the hopeful boy's hands. Giving it a quick glance, his uncle tossed it into the fireplace where it was quickly consumed by the flames. "Just an advert," uncle Vernon had mumbled as he turned away from the startled youth. The next day, there was a multitude of identical letters for Hairy under the mail slot in the front door. Again, Vernon had consigned the lot to the flames, this time without comment but with a reproachful gaze from his ruddy, angry face. A few nights later, during a violent storm, there had been a thunderous knock upon the front door. Petunia had cautiously opened the door against the wind, then let out a short, sharp scream. Hairy ran to his aunt's protection and saw a figure standing on the door stoop so large and tall that his face wasn't even visible in the doorway. The figure stooped and entered the residence. So tall was this stranger that he could not stand fully in the house, and had to bend at his hips to keep his head from hitting the ceiling. He was a great, monstrous fellow, dressed in foul-smelling roughhewn clothing. Little was visible of his face as it was hidden behind long, unkempt hair and a massive, long beard. He looked to Hairy like a dirty version of Father Christmas. His hair and beard were a mass of tangles and covered with nettles and leaves. But, strangely, his small, dark eyes seemed filled with good humor and kindness. Upon sighting the startled mouse, a huge grin spread across the giant's face. "'ellow, 'airy!" the giant said in a deep voice. Hairy stuttered, "Hello, sir." "'ave y' been gettin' o'r letters, lad?" "I'm afraid not, sir." "Well, n'bother--I brought y' a fresh one, then." The giant outstretched his gigantic paw towards Hairy. In it he help yet another letter, like the others, although this one appeared no bigger than a postage stamp in the huge hand. Finding her voice at last, Petunia shouted, "Oh no you don't! You ain't taking Hairy away, you big brute! He's staying right here with his loving aunt!" Vernon, newly arrived to investigate the disturbance in the den. Hairy saw a glimmer of recognition on his uncle's face upon beholding the giant. "What's all this, then?!" Vernon shouted. "I've come t' take 'airy with me," the giant pronounced. "Not on your life!" shrieked Petunia, positioning herself between Hairy and the stranger. "Now don't get your knickers in a wad, dearie," says the giant, shoving Petunia aside with one great paw. Petunia tried a different approach. "Please don't take 'em away, I NEED him!" she plaintively wailed. Vernon shot her a reproachful stare. "So, it comes out at last, you needy bitch! Don't think I don't know what you've been doing with the lad when I ain't here! Frolicking in my marital bed whilst I'm at work! You ought to be locked up, you shameless tart!" "Right. We're out of 'ere, 'airy. You come w' me then," the giant grumbled. "And good riddance!" It was Dudley, from the hallway. He had half a slice of cake in one hand, with the rest of the slice smeared around his gob. "Having at me mum like that! He ought to be ashamed!" The burly giant paused for a moment, took out a bit of stick and mumbled some words that Hairy didn't recognize. Then he heard Dudley squeal. The fat youth tuned around and where once there had been a fat mouse tail there was a little penis wagging excitedly. The giant put a mighty paw on Hairy's back and steered him through the open door into the night.
Next, Hairy gets his kit in Diagon Alley.