"Ripella Mashnia" - an extract from Hairy Peter 3

Jul 11, 2002
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A short extract from "Hairy Peter & The Secret Chamberpot 2", the third in the "Hairy Peter" series of erotic novels by Susan Strict.

“I’m keeping that spell crop wrapped up from now on,” declared Hecate. I’m NEVER touching it again.”

“You ought to learn how to use it properly,” Herniame told her.

“Never,” Hecate insisted.

“More spaghetti?” suggested Freda.

It was two hours since Madam Lasheem had revealed the power of the spell crop Hecate was carrying, and identified it as once belonging to the Mistress of Mooning. Freda and Samantha had joined them as they went back to The Firkin Seat and ordered dinner.

“You’re not taking any of this seriously,” Herniame snapped at Freda. “Don’t you understand how important it is?”

“A decent meal is always important,” Freda declared, “And Madam Rosebuns’ cooking is a million time better than anything we ever have at Fessewarts. What do you think, Don? This is almost as good as we get at home, isn’t it?”

Don made no reply. His attention was elsewhere. “You know,” he said slowly, “I think she’s even bigger than when she sat on me last term.”

“Don!” Herniame reached over and shook him.

“Wha..? What? What? What happened?”

“I shook you,” said Herniame. “I’ll slap you as well if you don’t stop looking at that girl. Pay attention. This is really important.”

“Yes,” said Freda. “We were discussing whether Madam Rosebuns’ cooking is better than Mum’s. What do you think?”

“Madam Rosebuns’” said Don promptly. “It’s much better here.”

“We were talking about the food, not the décor,” said Herniame sharply. “Don, honestly, what are you doing? You keep saying how awful it was when that waitress sat on you, and how much worse it would be because she’s even larger now, but you can’t keep your eyes off her! If you like her so much then why don’t you just go over and ASK her for it. I expect she’s desperate for a male customer who can’t pay for his meal or his drinks!”

“I really don’t want her to sit on me,” protested Don. “I was just wondering… oh, nothing.”

“We’re not getting anywhere,” sighed Herniame. “Don. Pay attention to me. You have this thing in your head about that waitress sitting on you, right?”

“If course not,” claimed Don. “I’m here with you, aren’t I? So even if I did, I wouldn’t. Anyway, I don’t. You’re my friend, not her. I’m not going to. Definitely not. She’s too big. All that flesh and I couldn’t do anything, could I? If I was underneath her I’d be…”

Don’s eyes strayed back towards Ripella.

“I don’t mind,” said Herniame. “Don, listen to me: go for it. Get it out of your system. It’s quite all right with me.”

“Pardon?” said Don, suddenly focusing on Herniame. “I don’t want her. I want you.”

Herniame smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Don.”

Don gulped. “I didn’t mean… well, I did. What I didn’t mean to say was… I’m not saying that I…”

“I know exactly what you mean, Don,” said Herniame. “Now, go tell that nice young witch you’d like her to sit on you for a while. That’s what I want you to do. OK?”

“You want me to do it?” Don looked back at Ripella. She smiled at him. “She’s awfully big.” He sounded worried.

“Go and ask her,” said Herniame.

“I’m not sure.”

“GO AND ASK HER, or I’ll turn you into a frog!!”

“All right.”

Don stood up and nervously made his way across the room.

“What are you doing, Herniame?” asked Hecate. “You’re not going to let him do it, are you?”

“Of course I’m going to let him do it,” said Herniame smugly. “It will be fascinating to watch.”

“To watch? You don’t mean that you’re…?”

Herniame nodded. “Of course,” she said confidently. “I had a word with Ripella earlier. She’s going back to Romania tomorrow, so it’s her last chance over here and she’s so keen to make it a good one. I’d love to see what happens when she sits on Don.”

“Herniame!” Even Freda and Samantha were shocked.

“Are you sure about this, Herniame?” asked Peter.

“Yes, I’m sure,” confirmed Herniame happily. “Don’t look so worried. It’s obviously been his fantasy to have a big girl like her sit on him again. It’s not going to hurt me. I’ll be there to make sure she doesn’t do him any harm, and she’s going back to Romania for good tomorrow, so it can’t possibly develop into anything. Anyway, Ripella told me she really prefers witches. I think that’s why she agreed I could be there too.”

“He might develop a serious preference for really big witches,” said Peter. “What would you do then? Go and watch every time he spots a big girl he likes the look of?”

Herniame sighed. “No, Peter. If he really, really only wanted big girls, then I’d probably end up making the effort to put on a lot of weight – yes, seriously. It’s not going to happen. It’s his fantasy, not his reality. The chances are that after tonight he won’t be interested in it any more. It will put him off completely.”

“It didn’t put him off last time,” Peter reminded her. “This will be the second time that Ripella has sat on him.”

“That was only for two hours,” said Herniame. “This will be for a lot longer.”


Herniame smiled. There was something decidedly wicked about her smile. “Oh yes,” she said. “I expect we’ll see you some time late tomorrow morning. Or it may be tomorrow night. Ripella tells me that she can keep going for a couple of days if she gets an hour or so to rest occasionally. She may be large, but she’s very energetic and enthusiastic when it comes to facesitting. Anyway, be quiet. Don’s coming back.”

“You were telling Hecate about learning to use her spell crop,” Peter reminded Herniame.

“Not now, Peter,” snapped Herniame. “This is much more important.”