Son of Lust Pt. 6 (Harry Potter) (Patreon)

Poll Winner

Themes: Humiliation, Dom/Sub, Inhuman Sex

Summary: Part 6 of Son of Lust. Fleur has watched as the demon her friends so foolishly summoned wrecked them all... but also made them better than they'd ever been before. The part veela can see with her own two eyes his power clinging to them. If she doesn't do anything, then they'll soon be prettier and more powerful than she is. That can't be allowed to happen, obviously. 

-x-X-x-

As the Demon Lord finishes with her friends, fucking Giselle last and then dropping her to the floor like a used cum rag, Fleur scowls. She can see bits of his power clinging to the four of them even now. The four witches have formed a coven centered around their worship to the Demon Lord they’d managed to summon. In doing so, they’ve empowered themselves, even as they gave the Demon Lord control of their souls.

Their skin smooths out unnaturally, their breasts grow perkier, their asses toned. Magical energy clings to their fingertips. Soon enough, they’ll be able to compete with Fleur’s magical strength and beauty… and that simply won’t do. She needs to stay ahead of them at all costs, but unfortunately she wasn’t part of the initial coven founding. The ritual they’d used to summon the Demon Lord in the first place had been complete with only four witches.

Fleur had been extraneous and she hadn’t even known it. She’d been pushed out of the top point of the pentagram to make room for HIS presence, leaving her as an outsider looking in. In fact, she was perhaps the only one who could have saved her friends from their fate… but alas, none of them actually wanted to be saved.

When she’d tried to protect them from the Demon Lord, they’d disarmed and tied her up, leaving her trussed like a pig in the corner while they made their deals with the literal devil in their midst. All Fleur could do as she knelt there bound in magical ropes was watch as he conquered each of them sexually, one after the other.

Celine, Francoise, Charlene, and Giselle. None had been spared his touch. None had been spared his big, fat, juicy demonic cock. And all Fleur could do was watch. Until now.

“Mm. And what are we going to do with you?”

Fleur stiffens as the hulking red-skinned Demon Lord’s attention finally focuses on her. She’s the only unspoiled flesh left in the room, after all. Kneeling there in bondage, there’s nothing the part veela can even do to save herself either. In selfishly keeping her from helping them, her friends had all but spelt out her doom.

After all, they’d had the ritual to give them leverage to make a deal with the demon. She did not. He could do whatever he wanted to her in this moment. He could… he could… Fleur blushes, breathing rather heavily as all sorts of lurid fantasies play through her head. Still, she plasters a sneer across her beautiful features, trying to put on a brave face.

“Hmph. You are akin to ze average English Pig, tricking my idiot friends with your ploys. If zhey were truly intelligent, zhey would ‘ave made separate deals with you.”

She expects to be defiled and abused. She expects to be treated quite harshly for her defiance. Which is why she’s subsequently surprised when the Demon Lord lifts a hand and snaps his clawed fingers. All of a sudden, the magical rope she’d been bound in vanishes, leaving Fleur free to slowly rise to her feet. Wearing her Beauxbatons Uniform, she hesitates for a moment… and then slowly makes her way forward.

There’s nowhere she can run. Even if she tries to make for the door, he can catch her before she can so much as blink. And without her wand, she really only has one tool available to her at this moment. Her body.

“An English Pig? No, my dear… I’m an English Devil.”

Fleur doesn’t quite know what that means. All she knows is that she has one opportunity to keep ahead of her friends. Her soul is already forfeit, really. She’s already doomed. So she might as well get something out of this in trade, right?

Sniffing haughtily, continuing to play the role of brat to the hilt, Fleur reaches the Demon Lord and places a hand on his broad, chiseled chest. She spreads her fingers as far as they can go and yet her hand has still never felt smaller as her breath hitches and she looks up into his eyes.

“You were wise to save me for last, demon. I am ze cream of ze crop. I-eep!”

Before she can get out another word, the Demon Lord suddenly picks her up and drapes her over his shoulder, while at the same time smacking her ass with his opposite hand.

S-SMACK!

“You talk too much.”

“B-Brute! Non! You are ze worst!”

In truth, she’s red-faced not purely from embarrassment, but also immense arousal. And she’s never been wetter in her entire life, especially as he chuckles darkly in response and begins carrying her over to her nearby bed.

-x-X-x-

Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this refreshed. He would need to talk to Lavelia about it later, when he got back home. Technically, he could have already left. After all, he’d finished making his deal with his new coven. Harry could sense that after dominating the four French Witches like he had, they were all connected to him now.

More than that though, fucking four new witches into their own individual stupors like he had had made him feel decidedly invigorated. Before now, Hermione had been the source of the bulk of his feeding. And as much as he truly appreciated everything she’d done for him… Harry could now acknowledge that sex with her had begun to feel a little same-y.

And not just in a normal way either. No… sex with her had started to lose its luster, Harry was coming to realize. Only by splitting his focus among many witches, among multiple women… could he avoid that sort of feeling, he suspected.

On top of that, he was wondering if he could form a connection with Hermione like he had with this new coven of his. Celine, Francoise, Charlene, and Giselle. Those were the names of the four witches who had sworn their souls to him in eternal servitude.

They were lucky that he was born of the Earth and would likely remain here for quite some time to come. If they’d sold their souls to a demon who actually came from Hell, said demon would likely have dragged them back down to Hell with him once the deal was finalized. But Harry had no need for such things. He was eventually going to go back to Hogwarts, but thanks to these connections he’d made, he could tell that he could visit these four whenever and wherever he wanted, so long as they remained in this plane of existence.

… So yes, he could have left already. But he hadn’t, and for a very good reason at that.

“What now, brute? How shall you ravish me?”

That very good reason squirms under him, laid out on her own bed from where he’s dropped her into place. Harry can’t help but grin as he gazes down at Fleur Delacour. After a moment, he waves his hand and vanishes her clothing, stripping her entirely naked in a single second. The part veela takes a moment to notice, a moment in which she continues to squirm and show off every inch of her beautiful body to him.

Of course, as soon as she realizes, she goes even redder than before and moves to cover herself up. But a simple flex of Harry’s will, his power now engorged on the sexual energy of four new witches, sees her arms pinned on either side of her head as she whimpers. But her whimper is not one of fear… it is one of pure, utter need.

Harry cannot read minds. However, what he CAN read is desires. He can look at a woman and automatically know every last one of their sexual fantasies, from the deepest and darkest to the plainest and most vanilla.

That’s why he knows what Fleur really wants is to be humiliated and used by a big, strong specimen like him. That’s how he knows she got off on being tied up and forced to watch him fuck all of her friends. And that’s how he knows her bratty persona is just a defensive mechanism, while really every fiber of her being is screaming for her to beg him to take her.

She’ll never beg… not with her mouth anyways. She does beg with her body however, in a million little ways.

Harry brings his demonic cock to Fleur’s virgin cunt, able to feel the waves of power wafting off of the part veela. Her allure has no effect on him, except to entice him in. She cannot control him with it, but she can certainly attract him. However, he’s well aware of its power, and thus it has no true hold over him.

“Shall I take you now, my dear veela?”

Stiffening at being called out for her nature as a part magical creature, Fleur’s nostrils flare for a moment before she responds, bratty as before.

“It iz not like you leave me much choice, demon! You shall ravish me no matter what I say… and so, all I demand is p-proper payment! I shall be yours, same as my friends… but our deal will be one-on-one, between you and I!”

Harry grins at her arrogance. At the same time though, he’s not at all opposed to the idea. Chuckling throatily, he gives her a nod.

“Deal.”

Then, he thrusts into her before she can reply. Fleur gasps, as he fills her with his cock and takes her virginity without any real warning. She moans wantonly, unable to contain her pleasure at being taken so… uncaringly. This is Fleur’s deepest, darkest desire. She puts on a brave face, and to be fair no wizard she’s ever known has ever truly been worthy of it… but in the end, what Fleur Delacour wants more than anything is to be humiliated. To be treated like a piece of meat.

It runs counter to everything she’s been taught. Wizards are supposed to be submissive to veela, according to what she’s been told. But Fleur WANTS to be submissive. She wants to be dominated. And she wants to be degraded in front of a crowd. Her friends are all semi-conscious and watching, so that part is already taken care of. As for the direct humiliation…

Harry reaches forward as he begins to casually fuck the part veela on her bed. And with a single claw, he begins to draw a burning demonic rune into her flesh upon her upper chest. It doesn’t hurt of course. In fact, it’s mostly for show, little more than taking a sharpie to someone’s body. Still, Fleur’s eyes go wide when she sees him writing in a language she can’t understand.

“What… what are you d-doing?”

Humming, Harry tilts his head to the side, even as he continues writing. Seeing this, Fleur’s cunt clenches down on his cock even harder from the complete disregard he’s showing her.

“You want a one-on-one deal, don’t you? I’m writing out our contract. I don’t have any parchment, so your body will have to do.”

Fleur’s blush intensifies tenfold at that. But then, this too is more for her benefit than his. He doesn’t have to ‘write a contract’ to make a deal with the beautiful French Witch. He certainly didn’t when he formed a coven for her friends. But one of Fleur’s fetishes, a branch off of the main humiliation fetish she has, is body writing.

And so he writes. He covers her body in demonic script, even as Fleur shudders beneath him, her breasts jiggling with each panting breath. All the while, he continues to fuck her, even as he covers more and more of her pale flesh in a ‘contract’. In actuality, he’s mostly just doodling on her. Things like “Great Tits!” above her heaving breasts, or “Harry’s Cunt” emblazoned above her stretched twat. All in demonic script of course, a language Harry is fairly confident only Lavelia could possibly read besides him.

Regardless, he makes a great big show of it all, before giving Fleur a wide, wicked grin as he thrusts his demonic cock even deeper inside of her. His hand goes to her abdomen, right above her womb, and he growls a deep growl that makes her quiver in excitement and delight.

“Once I spill my seed inside of you, the contract will be complete. You will belong to me. Your power will be my power, and my power will be yours. Do you agree to serve me?”

To her credit, Fleur sets aside the brattiness for a second, giving him an intense, deeply pleasured look as she moans and hisses beneath him.

“Yessss… I agree!”

With one last grunt, Harry thrusts forward… and cums deep inside of the absolutely gorgeous veela. He fills and fills the French Witch with his seed, and at the same time makes all of the demonic writing across her body glow with infernal power. Fleur gasps, her eyes rolling back in her head and her body seizing up… though it’s all in her head. It’s all for show, so whatever she’s feeling at the moment is purely a placebo effect.

That doesn’t mean they haven’t made a deal, mind you. Harry feels the connection between them forming just as it did with Fleur’s friends. She’s his now, just as her friends are. Of course, just as Fleur wanted, she’s got a one-on-one contract with him, whereas her friends are part of a coven that then has a contract with him.

But Fleur might eventually come to regret that. Her friends can lean on each other for support when it comes to their dealings with him. They can combine their efforts in order to get greater rewards from him. Fleur, on the other hand, has only herself. It’s sink or swim, but Harry privately thinks Fleur will be able to handle it. She’s an independent sort of witch.

Though, he notes how she looks slightly disappointed when he lets her ‘contract’ fade from her flesh. Snorting in amusement, even as he pulls out of her freshly defiled cunt, Harry shakes his head.

“Foolish girl. You sign away your soul and are sad that no one can see the contract written across your face at all times?”

Clenching his hand in a show of force, he makes her ‘contract’ reappear across her body for a moment before disappearing it again.

“Not to worry… it will always be there.”

For a moment, Fleur looked relieved. Then, she remembers herself and scoffs, returning to her usual bratty attitude.

“L-Like I would even care about something like that!”

Her protest just provokes a derisive snort of amusement from Harry, as he climbs off the bed and gazes around the room at his handiwork. A job well done and a night well spent.

“Farewell for now… pets. Not to worry. I shall call upon your services soon enough, I suspect.”

Then, before either Fleur or the coven can make any protest at his departure, Harry ends the summoning ritual, pinching off the temporary connection so that he’s sent back to where he came from. Luckily, that’s just Hogwarts rather than Hell. That said, even as he arrives back in front of Lavelia and a passed out Hermione, Harry can feel his connection to Fleur and the coven still going strong.

Lavelia just smiles at him knowingly, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Productive night, milord?”

Considering that for a moment, Harry can’t help himself. He throws his head back and laughs, for the night had been VERY productive indeed…