Cambrian’s Emporium of Everything (Multiple Settings)

How To Train Your Veela Pt. 6-10 (Harry Potter)

Commission

Themes: Corruption, Master/Slave, Mind Break

Summary: The latter half of Barty Crouch Jr. capturing Fleur Delacour and endeavoring to make her his property.

-x-X-x-

Part 6:

-x-X-x-

Stumbling into the bathroom, a beleaguered and bedraggled Fleur Delacour pants heavily, clutching at the sink for support. Completely drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted, the beautiful veela stares at herself in the bathroom mirror, scarcely unable to recognize who she’s becoming.
 
Oh, she’s always been gorgeous sure… and maybe one might argue that her physical body hasn’t changed overly much. She’s lost most muscle definition she had of course, given the length of her captivity. But more than anything… it’s a state of mind. Looking at herself in the mirror, Fleur doesn’t see the strong, independent woman she thought she was before her captivity.
 
It’s been months since Barty took her, and several days since he began staying with her with no mission or task from the Dark Lord on the horizon. Now here she stood, wearing some of the bombshell lingerie he picked out for her. This set is somewhat unpronounced, without too many straps or cross-sections. It’s just a bra and panties, though the bra in particular is a whole affair, what with its floral black patterns in place of the usual breast-coverage.
 
Meanwhile, her panties are decidedly more of a thong, riding up on her thicc, wide hips and hiking up between her ass cheeks, leaving her pussy alone barely covered up and the rest of her body all but hanging out.
 
It’s more than just what he’s making her wear, however. She looks defeated as she stares at herself in the mirror, as her eyes trail over her perpetually plush, pillowy lips, down to her shuddering, still-quaking figure. She looks like all those enslaved veela did in the stories she read. Her body is all too soft now… but at the same time even more sexy and alluring than ever before.
 
As she stands there, trying to keep her legs from collapsing under her, she can’t help but reflect on how Barty had just made her scream herself hoarse by fingering her through several orgasms right after she woke up. He hadn’t even fucked her yet, but her thighs were already drenched in her pussy juices as a testament to her conqueror’s skill.
 
Is there no hope left for her? Is she doomed? Is this what she’s become and all she will ever be, ever again?
 
As Fleur contemplates her new state of being, she’s unaware of Barty sneaking up behind her, admiring her quivering, trembling body, and especially enjoying the sight of the tramp stamp rune he’d planted on the small of her back as it glows brightly with power. Fleur is aware that it’s there of course, but she has no idea what it’s doing to her even now. Nor does she have any clue that the tramp stamp has actually begun to grow, something Barty enjoys watching as the magical runes slowly crawl up her flesh, inch by painstaking inch.
 
Before she can check on it, he steps up behind her, finally making his presence known and reaching around to fondle her through her lingerie, groping her tits and squeezing them hard despite them being covered at the moment.
 
Fleur can’t help the wanton moan that erupts from her lips as her back instinctively arches and she involuntarily pushes her hips back into his crotch, feeling his cock ride up between her ass crack against the back of the thong she has on. She whimpers and shakes her head, trying desperately to get herself under control.
 
“P-Please… no more… I need… I n-need to rest…”
 
Of course, it’s like Barty has been saying. Her mouth lies, but her body tells the truth. To Fleur’s horror, she’s beginning to realize he’s right more and more. No matter what protests, no matter how she begs him to stop, her body doesn’t fight back at all anymore. She can’t even muster up the strength to physically resist him as he just chuckles into her ear, his hot breath ghosting across the nape of her neck.
 
His hands come down without a word and slip her thong aside. His cock slides back along her ass, hot-dogging it for just a moment longer before he’s pressing up against her slit directly. Fleur’s eyes widen as he slowly pushes into her, and one of her hands comes up to clap against her mouth to try and contain the moans and mewls of pleasure that the action invokes.
 
Of course, she can’t do much more than muffle those sounds, and Barty still hears them all the same. More than that though, he SEES her in the mirror. He sees the way her expressive blue eyes flutter in shameful bliss as he stretches her needy cunt out on his cock. He sees the way Fleur quivers and very nearly cums yet again, just from him putting it in.
 
He could have immediately sped up and brought her over the edge right then and there, making her orgasm explosively and breaking her even further on his cock. But instead, Barty takes his time, torturing her as he slowly starts fucking her. It still feels amazing, don’t get her wrong… but a growing part of Fleur craves domination of a rougher sort.
 
Sure, Barty’s control over her is exemplified in how slow he’s taking her, despite having her allure buffeting him at all times just like before. Her out of control allure is on full blast and should make him ravenous. It SHOULD make him fuck her as fast and hard as he can, make him cum inside of her as many times as he can possibly manage.
 
It doesn’t. He takes her how HE Wants to take her, WHEN he wants to take her. And all Fleur can do is hold on for dear life and endure as her conqueror has his way with her. As his cock thrusts in and out of her, her allure completely blanketing them both in lust, Fleur whimpers and moans, shaking her head back and forth. Tears streak down her cheeks, even as pussy juices flow down her inner thighs, trailing down her legs in excess.
 
She loves it. She hates it. She loves how he makes her feel. She hates herself for loving it. She wants to be free. But she’s not sure she can live without him anymore.
 
Finally, Barty speaks. His tone is soft… almost pitying in a way. Filled with understanding. His fingers move under her bra as he talks into her ear, finally playing with her tits directly, rolling her nipples gently between the pads of his digits.
 
“You love this, Fleur. Why would I ever stop? Why would I ever slow down? You and I both know you don’t need to rest. You just woke up.”
 
Whining like a bitch in heat, Fleur nevertheless shakes her head.
 
“C-Can’t… can’t keep doing this. I can’t…”
 
In response, he leans in close, his nostrils flaring as he breathes in her scent. His body molds against hers from behind as he continues to fuck her with slow, deep, penetrating thrusts, pushing and pinning her against the bathroom counter.
 
“Can’t? I beg to differ, darling. You love how I make you feel. And I love how you make me feel. Why should we stop? Because society looks down upon our love? Because your veela kin will try and shame you for giving in to your natural state of being? Forget them. Focus on here and now, pet. Focus on us.”
 
He’s insane. Fleur knew that of course, and months ago these lines had filled her with nothing but disgust and hatred for her captor. Now though? Now her conqueror, for all that he’s clearly mentally unstable, is making a lot of sense to Fleur’s beleaguered thoughts. The shuddering, shaking veela beauty can only whimper and try to deny it with another shake of her head as he continues to fuck her from behind with his solid thrusts.
 
Barty just chuckles in response at her weak, nonverbal resistance. Silence falls between them for a brief moment, and then he speaks again.
 
“You know, pet… I could make this even better for you. For us.”
 
… What? The very idea of it feeling even better terrifies and intrigues Fleur in equal measure. She know she shouldn’t… and yet…
 
“H-How…?”
 
She knows she’s lost another battle just by asking that question. Barty smirks at her in the bathroom mirror, still buried so deep inside of her quim. Fleur bites her lower lip, wishing she could rewind time, wishing she could take it back. But the question is out there now, and so he answers her.
 
“All you have to do… is give in and give me your magic, Fleur. If you let me have control… I can make it all so, so much better for us.”
 
Fleur’s eyes widen at that, fresh horror rocking through her being. For a moment it even fights back her arousal and she rapidly shakes her head.
 
“T-That’s not possible! That’s… that’s… y-you can’t!”
 
Barty just laughs, seizing upon her tits, groping them more harshly all of the sudden and sending her right over the edge. As Fleur climaxes messily and explosively all over her conqueror’s cock, Barty begins picking up the pace, fucking her even faster, her body reacting all too positively to his actions.
 
“Not possible? Heh, maybe if you were just another witch, Fleur. After all… all that bullshit about witches and wizards having ‘magical cores’ is just that… utter nonsense. But such fictional drivel always comes from somewhere, doesn’t it? And we both know where it actually came from. Your people. The Veela. And your magical cores.”
 
How?! How did he know?! One might say that it was just another secret in a long litany of them that Barty never should have had access to, but this was different. Veela Magic and the fact that every veela, no matter how diluted their blood, had an innate magical core filled with said veela magic… these were supposed to be their greatest secrets. NO ONE outside of their species was supposed to know about their magical cores. Mostly because… well, it put them at risk. It made them vulnerable.
 
Fleur hadn’t thought she could get any more vulnerable than she already was, but as she stares into her conqueror’s knowing eyes in horror, knowing full well that there’s no convincing him he’s wrong… Fleur feels stripped bare.
 
“P-Please… d-don’t…”
 
Barty just sighs, bringing up a hand to run through her sweaty blonde locks, shaking his head in response as he suddenly seizes upon her hair and yanks back her head. He plows her even harder from behind as she gurgles, moans, and cums for him, unable to help it.
 
“We’ve talked about this before, sweetheart. Those lips of yours lie… but these lips down here tell the truth.”

And indeed, even as she begs him not to, her body is reacting positively to the idea. Her pussy lips clench and squeeze around his flexing cock and Fleur gurgles helplessly, shuddering in reluctant orgasmic bliss.
 
“Today. I’m going to try today. We’ll see if I can overwhelm you and take your magic, shall we Fleur? And if I can… well then, I’ll really blow your mind.”
 
She tries to muster up some form of further protest, but in the end he’s fucking her so hard and so fast that she can’t get out a single coherent sentence. Ultimately, she orgasms right along with him a few moments later as he fills her womb with his cum and her hazy, glazed-over mind with his promises…
 
When he finally finishes stripping her of her lingerie and then drags her to the shower to clean her up after that, Fleur doesn’t fight it, even though she should. She should be fighting him every step of the way, now that she knows what he intends to do. But… she doesn’t. Not nearly as hard as she should, anyways.
 
-x-X-x-
 
After the shower, Barty takes his Veela Pet right back to the bed, where sunlight pours over her naked, glistening body as he throws her down on it. Rather than pin her down and fuck her some more however, he’d gone another route entirely. Overwhelming Fleur Delacour wasn’t as simple as fucking her silly. It wasn’t as simply as railing her until she couldn’t think straight.
 
No, instead Barty goes down on her again, burying his head between her legs and sticking his tongue into every nook and cranny of her freshly cleaned cunt that it can reach. He works away at her while she lets out squeals and moans, as she screams and shrieks at the top of her lungs. He coaxes out the strongest orgasms he possibly can with her tongue, watching her all the while.
 
She tries to fight back. She even tries to push him away. But Barty keeps a firm hold on her, easily overpowering both her body and mind. He’d told her exactly what he was doing because he wanted her to fight it. The Tome had been clear about this… if she was in the proper state of mind before they began, it didn’t matter how hard she tried to resist. Ultimately, it would be like the death throes of a thrashing prey animal, only hastening her eventual end.
 
Not that Barty wanted Fleur dead. But he did want this part of his plans over and done with. The whole ‘duel me for your freedom’ thing had been fun, but it was finished. The ‘you can perhaps get strong enough to beat me and get away’ idea was always inherently flawed of course, and defeating Fleur again and again had been incredibly arousing as well as serving a purpose. But now? Now it was time to move on.
 
And that meant it was time for him to own another part of his Veela Pet. Her soul was the grand prize, but the soul was a very fragile, fickle thing. Try to seize upon it too fast or too soon, and you risked shattering it entirely. Barty hadn’t gone through months of hard work just to be left with a lifeless husk of a pet. Soul-less Veela were a thing described in the Tome and could be ‘useful tools’ according to the writing Barty had been using… but it wasn’t what HE wanted.
 
No, he wanted Fleur Delacour as she was, but completely and utterly bonded with him. He wanted her wholly and totally submitted to him, but still everything he’d desired from her from the moment he’d first met her.
 
He’d told Fleur exactly what he was going to do… and so she was fighting it with all that remained of her flagging resistance. But in the end, it’s already a lost battle. All she’s doing is making this easier for him. Thanks to the Tome, Barty knows full well precisely how to forcibly wrestle Fleur’s Veela Magical Core away from her. Once he takes it, he’ll be able to manipulate her magic at will.
 
Putting his plan into action, Barty continues eating Fleur out while also channeling all the magic he has through the hands on her thighs and the tramp stamp on her lower back. The runic tattoo grows up her spine even more as a result of this, and the magic he’s deposited into her so far with every fuck and every load of cum responds to what he’s just injected into her.
 
Everything he’s put into her womb over the last several days begins to come together. Fleur cries out, a mixture of anguish and lust, no doubt feeling it as her Veela Magic starts to solidify in her womb. Barty feels it too, though on a less personal level. He can effectively reach out with a magical ‘hand’ and ‘grip’ the ball that represents her magical core.
 
With that ‘hold’, Barty begins pulling Fleur’s magical core out of her womb. It catches against her cervix of course, making her eyes widen in horror as she realizes what he’s doing. But even as her lips open to beg him uselessly to stop, he yanks hard. The cervix gives way, and in response, the overly sensitized veela beneath him shudders and quakes her way through the most explosive orgasm of her life.
 
“BAAAAARTYYYYYY!!!”
 
As her head tosses back into the pillows, her eyes rolling in her skull, and her spine arching furiously from the spasms and seizures brought on by the climax, Barty just smirks into her cunt, continuing to draw the ball of Veela Magic down her vaginal canal.
 
When Barty pulls away from the fountain of pussy juices that comes squirting out of her a moment later, he grins wickedly at what he sees awaiting him after she’s done climaxing. There, nestles in the entrance of her pussy lips, somehow remaining in place despite how sopping wet she is… is a dense ball of solidified Veela Magic. A veela’s ‘magical core’ as the Tome had described it. Effectively mana given physical form.
 
“There it is pet… there it is.”

Fleur whimpers, knowing full well that it’s too late for her to stop him now. Even if she fought him off… putting her Veela Magic back where it was is all but impossible now. It would take an entire coven of veela to try and reverse what he’d done to her, and they were far more likely to reject and shun her at this point. Or at least, that was what was going through Fleur’s head as the poor dear waited for her conqueror to finish her off.
 
But Barty doesn’t. Not immediately. Her magical core might be his for the taking, but he can’t help gloating just a little bit. He certainly can’t help but bask in the moment for a time. Leaning forward, instead of pulling the ball out from her pussy lips, Barty’s eyes twinkle with mischievous delight as he teases Fleur, slowly licking both her pussy AND the shimmering surface of the magical core.
 
Fleur’s eyes jolt open in surprise, going wide as she gasps from the magical shock that spasms through her every time he touches it with his tongue. She squirms… she writhes… she squeals and cries out. But still he doesn’t take it. Until finally, she can’t take it anymore. Finally…
 
“J-Just take it! Please, f-for fuck’s sake, CLAIM YOUR PRIZE!”
 
With that, Barty finally closes his teeth around her magical core. And though Fleur can feel her own magic trying desperately to fight him off, he nevertheless slowly pulls it out of her clenching pussy lips, straightening up with the ball between his teeth. Then, right before Fleur’s eyes… he swallows it whole, taking her magic into himself.
 
Of course, that little ball won’t make it to his stomach. It won’t go through his digestion track or anything like that. The whole ‘swallowing’ thing is purely a bit of showmanship. The moment it passes down his throat, the ball dissolves and she feels it. So does he, of course. Barty shudders as he feels the connection to her body and magic that he now has over her. He feels as a connection to her womb and ovaries in particular solidifies, giving him… complete control.
 
Fleur can do nothing but lay there, staring up at her conqueror in both horror and arousal. It’s just another example of his dominance over her. He’s conquered another part of her, totally and completely. And yet… it’s more than that. And they both know it.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“Fuck! FUCK! FUCK!! C-Cummiiiiing!!!”
 
Several hours later, they’re still going at it and Fleur isn’t even capable of holding back her voice anymore… nor can she seem to stop announcing as he’s making her climax on his cock. Barty just smirks as he continues railing her in the current position. With his veela pet on her back and his hands on her ass lifting her into the air, her legs are locked around his waist, helplessly knocking against his tailbone as he fucks her hard and fast with his full power.
 
The poor blonde can’t help but scream and squeal in pleasure at the rough treatment. Her body truly has come to love it when Barty dominates her with the sort of bestial, primal brutalism one might expect from a caveman rather than a civilized wizard. He treats her like a toy, and Fleur hates how much she loves every moment of it. Of course, that’s not the worst of it…
 
Leaning in close, still holding her ass up in the air so he can properly fuck down into her, Barty reaches Fleur’s ear, whispering into it.
 
“I’m so proud of you, pet. I’m so proud of you for surrendering willingly. It makes my victory over you all the sweeter.”
 
Fleur shudders, unable to even truly protest his words. Because… he was right, wasn’t he? She HAD surrendered willingly. Sure, it’d been in the heat of the moment, with the pleasure and shock of having him lick her magical core directly coursing through her time and time again. But that didn’t change the facts one bit. She’d had a choice to quietly endure or to give in. And yeah, maybe that wasn’t much of a choice at all, but she’d still made the decision to give in. She’d shouted at the top of her lungs for him to ‘claim his prize’… and in exchange, Barty had done exactly that.
 
S-Still, she should probably say SOMETHING right? She should probably protest, or deny, or reject him in some way. Even if she was coming around to his way of thinking, that every word out of her mouth was usually a lie while it was her body that told the truth, Fleur still had to keep up appearances, right?
 
Alas, she hesitates too long this time. Before she can protest, he casually starts channeling her own Veela Magic inside of her, making her womb and ovaries heat up in a way that causes Fleur’s back to arch and her eyes to roll as she orgasms… and doesn’t stop. Continuously climaxing on his cock, the poor beleaguered veela gurgles helplessly, reduced to nothing but a fuck toy for her conqueror… for her Master.
 
Except, just when she’s thinking that a sex toy is all she’ll ever be, Fleur’s eyes roll forward again and she inadvertently locks gazes with Barty. In an instant, he’s in her head, using nonverbal Legilimency to invade her mind. Fleur tries to slam her mind shut with her own well-trained Occlumency of course, immediately and reflexively attempting to shut him out.
 
However, to her horror she realizes… her Occlumency never flagged. Her mental shields were one of the things that had stayed up and stayed solid for these past few months. To be fair, Barty had never tried to break through her Occlumency before. He’d focused solely on torturing her mind via her body, slowly but surely breaking her down through psychological tactics rather than magical mind control as far as Fleur was aware.
 
And so her Occlumency had remained solid, the last stalwart defense Fleur had. But worst of all? It was STILL solid. It was STILL a stalwart defense. Her walls were still up and the gate was still closed. So how was Barty in her mind?
 
He grins as her eyes widen in realization. Her magic. His connection to her via the theft of her magical core has left him with a backdoor into her mind directly. It doesn’t matter that the walls are still up and the gate is locked shut. Barty has a tunnel directly into the castle, a secret entrance right into her damn bedchambers if you wanted to truly run the analogy into the ground. And there’s not a damn thing she can do about it.
 
She expects him to crush her mind in an instant, to do away with the parts of her that still resist him, that still want to fight him. Now that he has access, Fleur assumes she’s going to go from being torn between seeing him as her captor or her conqueror… to knowing him as nothing but her Master. And she probably won’t even realize it’s happening. At least there’ll be that. She’ll be blissfully ignorant once he shatters her mind into a thousand little pieces and then reforms it into whatever he wants from her.
 
Except… that’s not what happens.
 
“Silly pet. Just because you want to be broken doesn’t mean I’m going to break you. Why would I? You bend so nicely for me instead~”

Fleur blushes profusely at that, wanting to protest Barty’s words. Wanting to deny it. Wanting to give him a dozen examples of how he’s broken her in a million small ways over the last few months. But before she can do any of that, he does what he ACTUALLY entered her mind to do. He implants… a fantasy. Just a simple fantasy, a fake memory, forced upon her. Fleur finds herself living it, shuddering as she essentially finds herself in a forced daydream.
 
In the fantasy, she’s on her hands and knees, getting fucked doggystyle from behind by her conqueror. Barty has his hands on her hips, though his fingers are having to grip her flesh THROUGH the gorgeous silk robe she’s wearing. Said robe is open however… and does nothing to hide her pregnant belly as she’s being plowed from behind.
 
Fleur sees Barty splaying both hands across her belly, cradling their child… and she sees herself look back at him, one hand coming down atop one of his hands and the other reaching back to his chiseled jaw. Not to slap it though… but to caress it.
 
“We’re having a boy, beloved. And I know… I know he’ll be a strong man like his father before him, sir.”
 
It’s strange. Definitely fake, because Fleur is experiencing it from both a third person perspective AND a first person perspective at the same time. She’s watching her pregnant self get fucked by her conqueror while staring lovingly into his eyes and caressing his cheek… but she also IS her pregnant self getting fucked by Barty as she confesses the sex of their baby, able to fee her heavy belly distended from being well and truly bred by her conqueror.
 
Even knowing it’s all just a daydream, even knowing it’s a false memory implanted by Barty in her mind for her viewing pleasure… it doesn’t lessen its impact in any way. Fleur whimpers and cries out as Dream-Barty continues fucking her from behind.
 
Meanwhile, in the real world, Fleur’s eyes are vacant as she stares up at Barty. The wizard has a truly malevolent grin on his face as he forcefully begins her ovulation, her body more readily obeying HIM than it would her at this point. Her eggs descend in an effort to help her conqueror make babies and Barty lets out a groan as he starts cumming.
 
Fleur throws her head back and lets out a squeal, abruptly surpassing the best orgasm of her life that she’d had earlier. She SCREAMS as she cums and cums for him, milking his balls for all of the cum they can possibly produce and then some. She truly drains him dry as Barty fills and fills her with his seed, until her womb is stuffed more than it’s ever been stuffed before, her abdomen slightly bloated and distended from just how much sperm he’s deposited inside of her.
 
Once she starts to cool off, once she realizes how hard she just came from the fantasy he’d shown her, Fleur freezes for a moment… and then sobs, tears streaming down her face as she suffers a nervous breakdown, right there on the spot. She begins babbling about Barty being the best sex of her life, about how she’s falling in love with him, about how she hates and loathes what she’s becoming, but also loves every last bit of it.
 
Barty just smiles down at her, riding out her breakdown while remaining buried inside of her quivering, flexing quim. His smile only grows as he feels her egg being inseminated with both his seed and his magic, knowing full well that she has no idea she’s just become pregnant for him.
 
It’s only a matter of time now. Taking Fleur’s magical core and making it his own was one thing. One step along the road, in fact. Oh, sure… it was a big step don’t get him wrong. But it wasn’t the soul. THAT was the final hurdle. That was what all of this was for. Once Barty bound Fleur’s soul, she would truly belong to him.
 
And sure, one might say that they were already there. With Fleur literally having mental breakdowns and slowly but surely falling in love with him, Barty didn’t technically HAVE to go all the way with what the Tome laid out for him. He COULD stop and not completely bind her soul to his. He could stick to the conventional forms of enslavement and entrust that with her magic his, she would never go against him.
 
… But Barty hadn’t come this far for half-measures. He hadn’t done all of this just to have her MOSTLY his. So long as there was even a few percent of Fleur Delacour that longed for freedom and yearned to escape him, Barty wasn’t happy. It didn’t matter if the vast majority of the rest of her adored him and was helplessly devoted to him. He wanted her to love him with ALL of her heart. Not just some. Not just most. But ALL of her heart, mind, body, and soul.
 
Barty wouldn’t stop until her conquest was entirely complete. He wouldn’t stop until she belonged to him in every possible way. Yes, today was a big step in the right direction… but it wasn’t the end of the road.
 
Still, as he smiles down at Fleur’s abdomen, where he knows he’s just knocked her up, Barty can admit one thing. The end of the road is rapidly coming into sight.

-x-X-x-

Part 7:

-x-X-x-

It’s funny. Despite spending most of the last few months of captivity in a state of forced nudity, Fleur has never felt more naked than in this moment, regardless of the fact that she’s technically clothed. But then… this is also the first time she’s been away from her prison since she was taken as well.
 
She can scarcely believe that this is what her life has turned into. Standing in Malfoy Manor, ‘socializing’ with the other Death Eater wives and girlfriends. Not that she’s actually spoken to any of them. None have dared to approach her. Whether that’s because of Fleur’s status as Barty’s slave or because of how she’s dressed, the veela witch doesn’t really know… nor does she actually care all that much.
 
The dress she’s wearing is decidedly muggle in design. No self-respecting witch would be caught dead in such a skimpy garment. The dress is not only a small, tight thing that barely covers her from halfway down her tits to a few inches down her thighs… it’s also made of sparkling diamonds designed to draw the eye to her shapely figure and beautiful body.
 
She makes it look good, of course… but it’s still the sort of thing that Fleur knows would be scandalous in any part of wizarding society. They don’t wear things like this in the Wizarding World. They don’t show off this much skin, even when they’re feeling frisky.
 
But it’s what Barty put her in and so it’s what Fleur is wearing. She’s rocking the look too… and honestly doesn’t really care what the Death Eater wives and girlfriends think of her. All she wants… all she really wants is for Barty to finish his meeting with the other high-ranking Death Eaters and take her back home.
 
And yes, Fleur realizes deep down just how pathetic that is. This is the first time she’s been out of her ‘prison’ through the entire length of her captivity… and she’s already eager to get back to it. She’s not even trying to escape either. Instead she’s just standing there ‘admiring’ some of the clearly stolen art scattered around the Malfoy Manor.
 
How does she know most of it’s stolen? Well, the occupants of the paintings are locked to their frames. In any self-respecting home as opulent as this one, the paintings would all be connected to the home’s wards and be able to move among themselves without issue. Or, even move between their own extra paintings elsewhere in the Wizarding World.
 
That isn’t happening here in Malfoy Manor, at least for the majority of the paintings that adorn its walls. While some are clearly old family art connected to the home’s wards and able to move about the manor… plenty are not. Fleur can actually tell which ones are newer and which ones are older from how they react to her presence too. The older stolen paintings don’t react at all, merely sitting somewhere in their canvas with dead eyes staring out at the world they find themselves trapped in.
 
The newer ones on the other hand vary greatly. Some of them plead with her with broken eyes for her to try and save them or free them. Some bang angrily on their frames, their demands to be released and returned to their rightful owners silenced by Muting Charms cast on their canvases.
 
Fleur, of course, can’t help any of them. Don’t they know? She’s just as trapped as they are. Can’t they see it in her eyes? Or perhaps they can’t. Perhaps she’s not dead to the world in the same way some of the paintings are… because deep down inside, she can’t help but long for Barty to finish up with his meeting and take her back. The longer she has to wait, the more enflamed she becomes with desire.
 
She’s positively dripping with anticipation of their next encounter. The bastard had known what he was doing when he made her wait months before fucking her. He knew what he was doing when he pushed and pushed until FLEUR was the one to impale herself on his cock. And he knew what he was doing when he claimed her veela magic for his own, taking control over her magical core.
 
Technically if she escaped, she would still have her human magic. She was only part veela after all. But… what would be the point? Losing out on mind-blowing sex with Barty wasn’t worth her freedom… not anymore.
 
Just as Fleur is thinking this and staring at one of the paintings, a dirty hand suddenly wraps around her mouth from behind, muffling her scream of surprise as she’s yanked backwards into a hidden alcove that she hadn’t noticed before. Spun around, Fleur Delacour comes face to face with Walden Macnair as he thrusts her up against the wall and gives her a toothy grin that shows off his bad hygiene in spades.
 
Immediately, Fleur freezes in fear. She’s very familiar with Macnair. He was a Death Eater who was known for bringing magical creatures over to the Dark Lord’s side. Be it through diplomacy… or more forceful means. If you had any magical creature blood in you at all, you were warned quite direly to avoid Walden Macnair at all costs, because the sort of things he did to the magical creatures he managed to capture were best not spoken of in polite company.
 
Of course, in being told to avoid Macnair, Fleur had instead been completely blindsided by Barty’s obsession with her and completely taken off guard by the other Death Eater’s single-minded focus in making her his own. Still, from everything she’d heard… Barty was decidedly the lesser of two evils. Nothing that Barty had done to her so far could compare to the horrors that Macnair was said to visit upon his victims.
 
Leaning in close, the dirty Death Eater breathes in her scent, making Fleur flinch away. Or try to anyways. He has her by the arms and has trapped her against the wall. She can’t escape his clutches, not without her wand… which she does not have. Maybe if she had her veela magic still, but that belongs to her conqueror now… leaving her truly helpless in this moment.
 
“Mm… love the scent of scared veela in the morning. Heh, the moment I saw you with Bart I knew I was going to steal you away from him, bitch. You’re just too delicious not to.”
 
Fleur’s eyes widen and she begins to struggle a bit harder, though to no avail. Instead, she turns to words, hoping that she can convince the Death Eater she’s already taken.
 
“Y-You can’t… h-he won’t let you. I… I belong to B-Barty… he’s my M-Master… not you. So… so let me go!”
 
Macnair pauses at that… and then laughs in her face, his disgusting bad breath making Fleur reel back in queasy horror.
 
“Merlin he broke you in fast, didn’t he? Bahaha! If that boy could tame you so easily, I won’t have any trouble with it, now will I? Don’t worry. You’ll forget all about Bart soon enough, you little veela slut. You’ll be screaming my name before long. Or… you’ll just be screaming. I ain’t picky.”
 
Fleur shudders in stark terror, even as Macnair reaches into his robes.
 
“Now where’d I put that portkey…”
 
Eyes widening at the thought of being transported away far out of Barty’s reach, Fleur begins fighting back harder. It still doesn’t really amount to much… save that her attempts to break free force Macnair to split his attention between trying to find his portkey and holding her up against the wall. Eventually he snarls and wraps his hand around her throat before choke-slamming her into the wall hard enough to daze her.
 
“Dumb bitch! Quit fighting!”
 
Fleur chokes on her own spit, taking a moment to recover. A moment that Macnair finally uses to find his portkey and pull it out. The unassuming balled-up sock he holds aloft fills Fleur with terror as he goes to force it into her hand. She quickly moves her hands away, behind her back, and before he can strike her again, blurts out the only thing she can think of that might stop him.
 
“The Dark Lord himself g-gave me to Barty! If you try to take me from my Master, you won’t be just slighting him, you’ll be slighting the Dark Lord as well!”
 
That DOES give Macnair pause. For the first time, he actually looks a little hesitant, his nose even wrinkling as the filthy Death Eater has to think for a moment. Then, he leers at her with a half-sneer, half-grin and scoffs.
 
“The Dark Lord didn’t give you to Bart, you bitch. He gave Bart permission to go after you. Doesn’t mean you belong to the little brat by order of the Dark Lord… besides… heh, besides, what the Dark Lord don’t know can’t hurt him, now can it?”
 
Fleur whimpers at Macnair grabs her by the wrist with bruising force and yanks her hand out from behind her back, bringing it towards the balled-up sock turned portkey. It really looks like she’s doomed. Like there’s no escaping this. She’s about to be whisked away to who knows where and her master- err, her conqueror is nowhere to be seen. If Barty can’t-!
 
The familiar scarlet light of the Expelliarmus Charm suddenly slams into Macnair’s hand, causing the portkey to go flying and the man himself to also be thrown back by the sheer force of the spell. Fleur blinks, still back against the wall but suddenly free. When she sees Barty Crouch Jr. standing nearby, his wand glowing with intent as he glares daggers at Macnair… she can’t help but feel unaccountably relieved.
 
Hurrying over to her conqueror and captor, Fleur all but hides behind him as Macnair snarls and gets to his feet, drawing his own wand in a huff.
 
“You don’t want to do this, boy. You’ll lose.”
 
“Oh… I definitely want to do this, Macnair. Trying to take what’s mine? Insulting me? That’s one thing. Grievous offenses to be sure, though I probably wouldn’t be allowed to kill you. But what’s this I hear? ‘What the Dark Lord doesn’t know can’t hurt him’?”
 
Barty’s face twists into a wicked grin.
 
“When I show our Lord THAT particular memory, he’ll be all too happy to pardon this execution.”
 
Macnair’s eyes widen at that and his jaw clenches as his grip on his wand tightens. Blanching, realizing that this has just become a duel to the death and she’s still very much unarmed, Fleur backs away from Barty’s side, moving out of the line of fire… and just in time too, because a moment later battle is joined.
 
What follows is a brutal, eye-opening affair. It’s eye-opening because… because Fleur can admit that Macnair is an excellent fighter. He’s a much better duelist than she herself is, even. And both he and Barty are using the some of the deadliest magic that she’s ever seen, throwing hissing curses that tear apart the very air itself in their wake. Barty wants Macnair dead for what he tried to do. And Macnair wants Barty dead so he can hide his words about the Dark Lord from Voldemort.
 
Both are very motivated to make sure the other doesn’t leave this corridor alive. And so the duel is vicious… yet also incredibly one-sided. Fleur can’t believe it. Macnair is so much better than her it’s not even funny. And yet… Barty is JUST as much better than Macnair himself. The duel goes to her conqueror, to her captor… and it’s really not even close.
 
As great a fighter as Macnair might be, he nevertheless meets his end at a gruesome spell from Barty’s wand that quite literally melts the flesh from the bastard’s bones and then melts his bones too for good measure. Fleur watches the disgusting Death Eater die in agony… and despite knowing she should be horrified; she can only feel aroused as her conqueror saves her from a much worse fate than anything he’s visited upon her.
 
Barty, for his part, almost contemptuously draws a vial from his robes and a silver thread of memory from his forehead. After putting the memory in the vial, he demands one of the onlookers come forward and tells them to make sure it gets to the Dark Lord. Fleur is still busy processing everything when he reaches for her, pulls her in tight… and then portkeys them both back ‘home’ without another word.
 
-x-X-x-
 
He’s almost vibrating with fury as he returns to his little hideaway with Fleur in his arms. Releasing her, he immediately steps away, his hands clenched into fists. Incensed that Macnair would even DARE try to take what’s his, Barty feels like he’s only moments away from blasting everything around him to pieces. His magic roils… and so does the veela magic that now lives under his control. Fleur’s veela magic is driven and even strengthened by emotions, so it shouldn’t be all that surprising that he’s really feeling it at the moment.
 
However, before he can actually turn his wand on any of the innocent inanimate objects around him, a hand suddenly curls around his fist and soft, feminine fingers slowly push their way in, intertwining with his own fingers. Blinking as his veela pet squeezes his hand in what can only be described as a comforting manner, Barty turns and sees her terrified eyes welling up with tears of gratitude as she shakes a bit, still clearly stricken by her experience with Macnair.
 
While that initially ignites even more fury in Barty’s chest, it also makes him want to comfort her, causing him to step up and pull her in close, using his free hand to brush a tear from just beneath her eye before it can really fall.
 
“H-How… how did you know to find me, Barty?”
 
She sounds amazed by the fact that he saved her. Barty just smiles softly at that.
 
“We’re connected Fleur. You and I… I would always know when you were in trouble.”
 
Having dominion over her veela magic meant that he was more intertwined with Fleur than ever before. Not quite to the extent that he wanted to be just yet… but soon… very soon. Still, it was enough that he’d been able to feel her fear skyrocket just as he was getting out of his meeting. And obviously, he always knew where she was. Not only did he have the connection via her magical core he’d taken, but also he’d put numerous tracking charms on every single piece of ‘clothing’ that he’d gifted to her recently. There was nowhere she could go that he would not follow.
 
Letting out a soft sigh, Barty looks Fleur in the eyes and makes her a promise.
 
“I will never allow another man to touch you… not ever again. None are worthy of you, my pet. That is why I took you. Because I love you. Because I want to keep you safe… because I know that you are MINE and belong with me.”
 
He means every word. Fleur IS his. And he’ll kill anyone who tries to take her from him, just like he killed Macnair. Though Barty has to admit… he’s a little surprised by her reaction. In a pleasant way, as it turns out.
 
Barty Crouch Jr. can’t help but smile as Fleur takes in his words… and then slowly lowers herself to her knees. Still clad in that dazzling, sparkling dress he’d picked out for her, the beautiful blonde veela pulls out his hardening cock from its confines. Without breaking eye contact for even a moment, she opens her lips wide and starts the slowest, most sensual blowjob she’s ever given him.
 
Of course, her enthusiasm DOES get the better of her and she can’t help but be sloppy about it, her tongue going all over the place and her lips suctioning down as she sucks her cheeks in. All the while, her eyes stare up into his eyes, unblinking and filled with adoration… if not yet perhaps total devotion. Ah but they’re definitely getting there. Oh yes they are.
 
Barty just enjoys the sensual blowjob for what it is for a few moments, admiring Fleur as she looks downright sexy in her cute little dress and on her knees before him. This might honestly be the sexiest she’s ever been, particularly because she’s trying so very hard to impress upon him how much she’s grateful to him for saving her. She wants to make him feel as good as possible, but she also wants to make it clear just how appreciative she is of him.
 
Which is hilarious when you consider that Barty was just like Macnair in a lot of ways. Not nearly as nasty, not nearly as… vile of course… but he’d still taken Fleur and made her his property. He’d still kidnapped her, taken her from her family, friends, and loved ones, and begun turning her into his loyal, adoring veela slave.
 
And yet here she was. Showing her gratitude to him for… all of it. She even goes beyond the blowjob, eventually reaching up completely of her own accord and pulling down the straps of her glittering dress. She lets her tits fall free of the dress and Barty’s eyebrows raise when she lifts herself up to her full kneeling height. Letting her lips pull all the way back to his cockhead, Fleur still maintains eye contact even as she wraps her breasts around his shaft and begins giving him a titjob-blowjob combo.
 
Drool and saliva from her initial sensual efforts only help contribute to how good it feels to have his member held between her soft mammaries, sliding and slipping up and down his cock as they are. Eventually, Fleur pulls off of his cock with a gasp before blushing prettily for him.
 
“I’ve never… n-never done this before.”
 
‘This’ being a titjob, Barty assumes. He grins down at her and runs a hand through her hair, petting her head for a moment before giving some advice on how to maximize his pleasure.
 
“Go faster, sweetheart.”
 
Fleur’s blush intensifies but she does as she’s told and Barty groans in enjoyment. He also can’t help but admire how her breasts are starting to swell with milk for the baby they’ll be having together. Though at the moment, Fleur is still blissfully unaware she’s pregnant. It’s only been a few weeks since he inseminated her, so not only is she not even showing yet, but she hasn’t had any of the effects of early pregnancy just yet.
 
He wonders… would she be giving him such a loving blowjob if she knew he’d bred her against her will? Would it be even MORE enthusiastic if she knew? Barty can’t say for sure… but he can say that he’s looking forward to finding out. He’s eager to see her reaction when it does finally dawn on her that she’s carrying his baby. He wants to be there for it… but he also wants it to be natural. He wants her to realize it for herself. So he’s not going to tell her. Not now, anyways.
 
That doesn’t stop Fleur from being unable to keep her own mouth shut though. As she slides her breasts up and down his cock, her pouty lips parted in a constant gasping manner and her eyes staring up into his eyes… Fleur whimpers needily.
 
“Y-You’re amazing, Barty. Watching you duel Macnair today… I realized just how strong you really are. You’ve been toying with me all this time, haven’t you?”
 
Barty tenses, worried that she’ll take offense to that realization… but Fleur’s eyes just become more and more lidded and he realizes ultimately that she’s immensely turned on instead. Probably because…
 
“N-Not to mention… you give me the best sex I’ve ever had. You fuck me better than any other man ever COULD, I j-just know it. And… and I love it. I love your big f-fat cock drilling me silly o-over and over again. I love having you inside of me. I love-ah!”
 
Her honest, earnest confession combined with her enthusiastic efforts tips Barty over the edge and he begins to erupt. One string of his cum winds up splattering across her face, but then Fleur lunges forward, capturing the tip of his cock in her lips and sucking down eagerly as the addicted veela guzzled his magically enhanced seed without hesitation. She swallows it all down, leaving Barty unbelievably smug as he watches her do so without even being told to.
 
The blonde even goes so far as to collect the first string of his jizz from her face with a finger before licking it clean, sucking on her digit right in front of him while staring up into his eyes. The entire experience, Fleur remains fixated on him. She keeps looking at his face, as if she can’t look away, despite what she’s doing with his cock.
 
Still maintaining that eye contact, Fleur bites her lower lip and slowly rises to her feet, her dress bunched around her waist, her torso exposed. When he doesn’t reprimand her or stop her, she gently grasps his cock and with a needy promise in her gaze, slowly begins pulling him towards the bedroom… something Barty allows with an amused grin, quite eager to see what she has in mind for him.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Fifteen minutes later, Fleur stares at herself in the mirror and blushes bright crimson. She’d left Barty sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her… and then pointedly gathered her things in full view of him to give him a sneak peek of what was to come. Then, she’d retreated into the bathroom to get changed. Now? Now she was having second thoughts. Or… not really. She was going through with this beyond a shadow of a doubt. But even still…
 
She knew there was no going back after this. Not that there was any going back after half a dozen of the things that had happened over the last few months. Still, staring at herself in the mirror, looking at what she’s chosen to wear for Barty… she knows what she’s doing is tantamount to surrendering. But… Macnair had very nearly taken her. Only thanks to her conqueror had she managed to escape a very dark, very grim fate at that monster’s hands.
 
She needed to thank Barty for saving her. She just had to. And damn if she doesn’t look sensational in her current attire. Dressed in a lingerie set literally made of golden accessories, complete with golden nipple pasties and golden chains dangling off of her collar and connected down to her panties… Fleur knows she looks great. Especially with the thick black collar wrapped around her neck with a golden leash coming off of it for good measure.
 
Obviously, the beautiful blonde veela knows this is wrong. But… she justifies it to herself by saying it’s only a ‘one-time’ thing. She’s not going to do this for him more than once… surely.
 
Shivering, Fleur pulls away from the mirror and walks back into the bedroom to find Barty has completely stripped naked in her absence. Her breath catches at the sight of his chiseled body and most importantly of all, his large and rock-hard cock. He’s also moved from the end of the bed up onto the bed and is laying with his back against the wall as he watches her with glittering eyes.
 
Looping her leash around one of her hands, Fleur sashays her hips seductively as she slowly moves forward. Staring Barty down, she crawls onto the bed with the leash still in hand, every move she makes being filled with sultry, sexy promise. She knows she’s putting on a show for him and while part of her hates herself for it, a larger part is loving the way his gaze roams over her body, drinking in every detail of her current get-up.
 
As she slowly moves into position, climbing on top of his dick and grabbing it with her free hand to place his massive cockhead against her drooling wet slit, Barty chuckles darkly.
 
“You look damn good when you’ve given in, darling. You look… spectacular surrendering.”
 
Surrendering. When he uses the word she herself had used to describe it in the sanctity of her own mind, Fleur blushes even harder and has to avert her gaze. She bites her pouty lower lip as she wiggles atop his cock, slowly spreading her folds over the first inch of his dick.
 
“I-It’s only… it’s only this one time. T-To thank you…”
 
Even to her own ears those words sound like such a fucking lie. Barty doesn’t call her on it though. He doesn’t have to, given the honest, heartfelt and utterly WANTON moan that comes from her lips as she slowly descends down the length of his cock. Every inch of his dick slides up inside of her as if it belongs there… as if her pussy was made for his mast and nothing else.
 
Once she’s bottomed out inside of him, Fleur has to lean forward and rest her hands on Barty’s chiseled chest, panting as she slowly but surely gets used to his size yet again. Which is when he takes the leash from her, unwinding it from her palm and wrapping it around his instead. Fleur’s breath hitches as he holds it firmly but also loosely, giving her plenty of wiggle room and what not. But then that makes sense, given his next order.
 
“Dance for me, sweetheart. Dance on my cock.”
 
Fleur shudders as she finds herself unable to help but obey him in the worst way imaginable. She starts by gyrating her hips, and then begins undulating her body. She gives in to her darkest desires and ‘dances’ all over his cock, moaning as she rides him and gives her ‘Master’ the best cowgirl experience she possibly can. Her veela instincts take over. Not the ones that demand she be a strong, independent woman… but the ones that tell her that her place is to submit to this powerful wizard that has conquered her. This man who has claimed her magical core for his own.
 
She belongs to him now, as much as she hates to admit it. An intrinsic part of what makes Fleur Delacour who she is… belongs to Barty Crouch Jr. and there’s nothing she can do about that. And so she dances. She swings. She gyrates and quivers and shudders as she cums upon his cock. Her moans fill the air and her lewd cries reach Barty’s ears as she squeals about how amazing he is.
 
“S-So good… so good! Your cock feels SO GOOD!”
 
Barty just lies back and admires her banging body, a wide smile on his face as he continues to hold onto her golden chain leash. He can feel the powerful magic of their child in her womb as she rides him, even though the child is barely a few weeks old and Fleur herself isn’t even showing just yet. Though… her belly is looking far less taut already. One might assume she was just putting on some weight from the rich foods he liked to feed her, but Barty could tell her abdomen was juuuust starting to swell with the very first signs of her pregnancy.
 
As she rides him and begins chasing her next orgasm however, Barty tightens his grip on her leash and forces her to focus her attention back on him, their eyes locking once more.
 
“You can do better than this, darling. Let me help you.”
 
With a grin, he turns a metaphysical key and ‘unlocks’ Fleur’s veela magic for her. With absolute control over when she has access to it, he can save said access for moments like this… where she’s nearing the heights of ecstasy and not really in her right mind.
 
As she feels that veela magic suddenly swelling up inside of her again thanks to his benevolence, Fleur’s eyes widen… and then she moans wantonly, unable to help herself. A moment later and she’s beginning one of her people’s oldest rituals… a ritual MEANT for a veela and her mate, not for a veela and her would-be master.
 
Singing in an ancient tongue, Fleur’s melodic voice fills the air as she rides his cock, bouncing up and down on his dick. Barty can’t understand what she’s saying of course, but fuck if it doesn’t sound absolutely beautiful. SHE sounds absolutely beautiful, on top of looking so very sexy and gorgeous as she slides along his shaft, her pussy walls flexing and clenching around his member.
 
Of course just because he doesn’t understand the words slipping out of her mouth as she sings doesn’t mean Barty can’t tell what she’s doing. He has complete control over her magic after all, and he can feel exactly what she’s trying to do with it. Grinning at what he senses, Barty allows it to happen… enjoying the way her pussy imprints upon his cock, effectively reshaping her insides so that she’ll never be able to have satisfying sex with another man.
 
Her cunt wraps so tightly around his dick that Barty almost can’t move inside of her, and Fleur comes to a shuddering, quivering stop as the ritual comes to a close. As his veela pet finishes the ritual, Barty lets out a heartfelt groan of his own, cumming so hard that he almost whites out for a moment. He definitely sees stars, even as Fleur cries out in ecstasy and bliss… and something else that he very nearly misses.
 
“… Je t'aime, Maître!~”
 
See, Barty might not understand ancient veela… yet. But he DID understand French. For a moment, he’s not sure he heard Fleur correctly. So he tightens his hold on her leash again and grabs her by her hip, forcing her to stop and look him in the eye.
 
“Repeat that, pet.”
 
Fleur freezes in place as post-orgasm clarity hits her and she too realizes what she just said. She trembles atop him… and shakes her head.
 
“N-No… I didn’t… I didn’t s-say anything…”
 
Barty scoffs at that… and begins to jack hammer up into her pussy from below. Fleur’s eyes widen and she lets out a gurgling moan as she falls forward onto his chest, her hands clawing at his pecs and her pasty-covered tits rubbing against his chiseled torso.
 
“P-Please… m-mercy! I can’t… it’s too much! T-Too soon… oh MERLIN!”
 
But Barty doesn’t let up. And soon enough… he gets what he wants.
 
“Je t’aime! Je t’aime, Maître. I LOVE YOU, MASTER!”
 
Heh, as beautiful to his ears as the ancient song of her people. Barty grins as another part of Fleur falls under his control, as she comes one step closer to being his and only his in every… single… way.
 
With a growl, he fucks her even harder, listening to her as she SCREAMS it at the top of her lungs until at long last they reach mutual climax together, their sweaty bodies held to one another and his arms wrapped tightly around his pregnant veela pet.

-x-X-x-

Part 8:

-x-X-x-

As Barty Crouch Jr. steps in through the door of his hidden abode, he hears something that brings a smile to his blood-covered face. The Death Eater has just come from a particularly brutal battle in which he’d personally managed to kill several of the Dark Lord’s enemies, so it had already been a good day. However, what makes it even better is hearing his slave-in-all-but-name throwing up from morning sickness.
 
While Fleur Delacour gets sick in the bathroom, Barty draws his wand and quickly cleans himself up before heading over to her. As he walks towards the noise of her retching, he hears her finish up and arrives just in time to see the beautiful blonde veela wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and checking herself out in front of the bathroom mirror.
 
A light frown mars her gorgeous face, while a sexy, tight leopard print bikini barely contains her growing curves. Indeed, while her breasts and crotch remain covered by the little bikini, it does nothing to hide her expanding hips or her bulging abdomen. And her swelling tits might not be held within the bikini top for much longer if they have anything to say about it.
 
To Barty, it’s become increasingly obvious that Fleur is pregnant. But then… to be fair, he’d already known he supposed. He’d known the instant it happened, so was it any surprise that he recognized all of the signs of her growing pregnancy right off the bat? Fleur, meanwhile, still hadn’t quite figured out that she had been knocked up by her conqueror. Amusing to say the least.
 
“Pet.”
 
She whirls around the instant he calls for her, looking… almost panicked in a way. There’s definitely a chagrined expression on her face as she bites her lower lip and averts her gaze, clutching at the bathroom counter behind her. Almost as if she’s ashamed to be seen by him in this state. But then, if the fool girl can’t even figure out she’s pregnant… there’s only one other explanation for her changing body, isn’t there?
 
Moving forward, more amused than ever, Barty reaches out and tilts Fleur’s head back up by taking hold of her chin, forcing the beautiful blonde to look him in the eye.
 
“What’s wrong, darling?”
 
Shivering, Fleur looks down at herself again and then over at the toilet.
 
“… I don’t know. I just know I’ve been getting sick more often of late… a-and that I’m getting fat…”
 
She admits it like it’s some great sin. As though her finally acknowledging that her weight is becoming an issue will be what finally forces HIM to do something about it. Barty just scoffs at her and rolls his eyes. Women and their insecurities… honestly.
 
Hilariously enough, his rolled eyes and scoff provoke more of an angry response from Fleur than any of his other actions have in weeks. Whether it’s hormones from the pregnancy or something else, she suddenly scowls at him, gritting her teeth.
 
“I-I’m serious! You-eep!”
 
But Barty isn’t having it. Not any of it. Before she can really get going and launch into some tirade, he effortlessly picks her up and carries her out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Fleur squeals at this, even as Barty carries her over to the bed and tosses her down onto it. He’s not worried about hurting the baby or anything like that, she’s not far enough long for that to be an issue just yet.
 
Before Fleur can recover, Barty is up on the bed as well, pulling his veela pet up onto all fours. He wastes no time in getting what he wants from her, specifically a release of the adrenaline he still felt from the battle he’d just won. Normally he would have put her on her back and fucked her while regaling her with tales of each of the Order members he’d personally slew today… but no, that’s not what they both need right now.
 
Instead, he yanks her leopard print thong aside and leans in to start eating Fleur out aggressively from behind as a good start. His tongue delves DEEP into Fleur’s cunt, writhing around this way and that as she cries out and moans wantonly in abject bliss and reluctant arousal. In fact, she’s the most reluctant he’s seen her in some time. She wants to enjoy herself; she knows she can’t fight him… and yet, the thought that she might be sick or becoming fat and might stop being desirable to him fills her with a peculiar sort of fear, doesn’t it?
 
Hmm, maybe he’ll finally tell her today. But not yet. Not until the moment is just right. And this? This isn’t the right moment! This is just foreplay! With a wicked grin hidden by Fleur’s crotch, Barty continues to writhe his tongue around inside of his veela pet’s sex for what feels like an age. But then, nothing worth doing should ever be done cheaply, right? And in fact… it doesn’t take nearly as long as it did back at the start of all of this.
 
Finally, he overcomes Fleur’s anxiety and insecurity, overwhelming her with pleasure as she lets out an orgasmic cry and climaxes from his tongue. Pulling back as she squirts all over the bed, shaking and shuddering before him, Barty all but tears his own clothing off, releasing his cock from its confines. Then, planting one foot on the bed beside her and his knee in between her legs, he grabs hold of her ass and lifts it high, even as he plunges his cock into her cunt without a care in the world.
 
Fleur’s next cry puts her last to shame as he begins to fuck her ass up, head down in an aggressive manner, really showing her just who she belongs to. She really think he’d give her up because she got ‘fat’?! Hah! Please! If he really cared about that sort of thing, he would simply make sure she stayed skinny forever.
 
But no… the truth was, it had always been part of the plan to knock her up. To breed her silly. To impregnate her and turn her into his own personal veela broodmare. To watch her belly grow, her tits swell, and her pad around their home barefoot and pregnant with HIS child. She was his woman… his slave. Every last bit of her from her body to her magic to her soul belonged to HIM or would belong to him soon enough.
 
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
 
Flesh slapping against flesh, Barty growls as he makes it quite clear what he thinks of Fleur’s insecurities. Does she really think he’ll ever stop wanting her? Does she really think he’ll ever grow bored of her? She’s his woman now. She needs to understand exactly what that means.
 
With that said, Barty eventually reaches out, somewhere around Fleur’s third orgasm upon his cock, and grabs hold of her by her sweat-soaked blonde locks. Yanking her head up as he continues railing her from behind, he uses his other hand to grab her jaw and pull her around so he can kiss her from over her shoulder. Fleur whimpers into her mouth, her fingers kneading at the bedding beneath her as he fucks her so viciously and aggressively.
 
When they finally pull apart for air, Barty looks directly into his veela pet’s eyes.
 
“No matter what you think… I will always be aroused by your sexy fucking body, pet. I will always want nothing more than to be inside of you, to remind you that you belong to me, and to make you cry out my name. You are MINE and if I have to plow you silly until you get any silly ideas of me setting you aside out of that pretty little head of yours, then I fucking WILL.”
 
Fleur shudders and quivers beneath him as he proceeds to do exactly that. And in the end, her lewd cries turn joyous and ecstatic until finally, Barty HOWLS as he cums inside of her and they both collapse a bit.
 
Of course, even as they’re both panting and needing a moment to recover, Barty stays rock hard inside of Fleur’s clenching, gushing twat. And leaning in close, he brushes her hair out of the way of her ear as he whispers directly to her.
 
“I can tell you’re not entirely convinced just yet, pet. So consider this just the beginning. I’ll spend all day showing you how much I love you if need be.”
 
Beneath him, Fleur quivers in delight at having such an aggressive mate. Meanwhile, Barty is already considering how he’s going to go about this. Fucking Fleur all day long is a given of course, he’s just promised to do so. However… he’s also decided that he’s going to make sure she knows the truth today. She’s not fat. She’s not sick. She’s pregnant.
 
Now… how to best go about breaking the news in a way that he’ll enjoy the most?
 
-x-X-x-
 
It’s been several hours and he STILL hasn’t let up. Fleur can hardly believe just how aggressive her conqueror is being with her. This sort of behavior is the thing that she expected from him back at the start. For him to just push her down and RAPE her all day every day. To be uncaring of her feelings, to not give a rat’s ass what SHE wanted, and to just… abuse her.
 
That was what she’d expected back then, and she’d thought she was ready to withstand the torture and torment that a bastard like Barty Crouch Jr. no doubt intended for her given she’d woken up that very first day stark-naked and in a strange bed.
 
… But that hadn’t happened. And as days became weeks and weeks became months, Barty had taken things so slowly that the very idea of him pushing her down and almost violently having his way with her had crossed from Fleur’s mind all but entirely. And yet… and yet here they were.
 
A wanton moan followed by a tired cry leaves the blonde veela’s throat as she’s railed on the dining table of their small abode. Her leopard print bikini has somehow stayed on all this time by her body is covered in sweat and tears stream down her face from the positively brutal sex. However… they aren’t tears of anguish or hatred or pain. No, they’re tears of overwhelming enjoyment, of pleasure that completely and utterly boggles her poor beleaguered mind.
 
Barty was finally fucking her as brutally as she expected him to all those months ago back at the start. But he wasn’t raping her. He wasn’t doing it for his own pleasure either. No, he was doing it for HERS. He was fucking her like this because of Fleur’s own insecurities and anxiety. Because she’d become convinced that he was going to grow tired of her once he realized how fat she was getting. Because she’d started to worry that whatever illness had taken her, he would decide it wasn’t worth the trouble of curing her of it.
 
Of course, any signs of the sickness that had been plaguing her most mornings for over a week now has gone by this point. Instead, Fleur is exultant. She feels… she feels loved, as hilariously insane as that might sound. She feels positively desired as Barty fucks her hard and fast on the dining table, her tits still held within her bikini top but nevertheless bouncing and jiggling all over the place.
 
Her body is loving the rough treatment, the brutal expression of Barty’s desire for it and her. Of his need to POSSESS her. With a loud cry, Fleur cums so hard she squirts all over Barty’s cock, even as he slams into her and cums inside yet again.
 
Each and every load he’s dropped inside of her so far today has felt denser and more magical than the last. Fleur’s eyes roll up in her head again at this latest one and her tongue sticks straight out of her mouth. Her conqueror takes this as an open invitation and leans in as they both start cooling off, capturing her tongue between his lips, nibbling at the tip of it with his teeth and kissing her in a way Fleur can’t get enough of.
 
At the same time, his hands slide up and down her body experimentally. Fleur shivers at his touch, moaning into his mouth until he finally disengages the lip lock. And then… and then his hands get to her tits. Fleur squeaks as he lightly, gently caresses her breasts through the leopard print bikini top. She moans when he slides his fingers this way and that over her covered mammaries.
 
She doesn’t know why they’re so much more sensitive these days, but she assumes it’s something he’s doing. Especially when he smiles down at her love drunk face knowingly, clearly having a good idea of how he’s toying with her. Then, to Fleur’s surprise, he lets out a chuckle and makes a sudden declaration.
 
“Mm, I’m starving.”
 
She expects him to pull out of her and move to get some food, but instead he reaches down and rips her bikini top off of her breasts, shredding it to pieces and making her gasp as her swollen tits come spilling out. What is he doing?
 
Before Fleur could ask, Barty has already grabbed one of her breasts and latched onto the nipple with his mouth. As he squeezes the base of her swollen mammary and bites down on her teat, Fleur’s eyes grow to the size of dinner places when she feels milk being pulled into his mouth, a loud cry exploding from her lips.
 
She… she was lactating?! Had Barty done this? She’d already suspected her swollen, sensitive tits were his doing. Now she had confirmation, she supposed. He’d done something, perhaps with her magic, and it had made Fleur able to lactate on command for him? The blonde veela can only blush as he hungrily and greedily drinks from her nipple, suckling deep and hard and drawing warm breastmilk from her time and time again.
 
This has to be the most intimate thing they’ve done yet together; Fleur can’t help but think in a daze. Sex is one thing, but drinking straight from the teat like this? He’s… he really has claimed her in every way, hasn’t he? He’s truly bound her to him and there’s essentially nothing she can do about it. That should have been horrifying, but instead Fleur finds her mind overwhelmed with pleasure and love for her hunky, handsome conqueror.
 
Several minutes pass in this manner, with Fleur mewling and moaning, her eyes fluttering as Barty drinks and drinks and drinks. Finally though, he removes himself from her tit, his cock harder than it’s ever been inside of her as he gives her a wide and wicked grin.
 
“Mm. Your milk is deliciously tasty. I’m almost jealous of the little tyke.”
 
Wait, what?
 
Fleur’s entire world comes to a screeching halt at those words. He wasn’t… surely he was joking, right? It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t be serious. He had to… he had to be lying.
 
Barty looks at her expression of incredulity as she lays there frozen in wordless stupefaction beneath him… and laughs. For a moment Fleur thinks he’s laughing because he ‘got her’, but no. He laughs because…
 
“Seriously? You still hadn’t figured it out? I literally just drank breastmilk from you, pet. I would have thought that would be the catalyst you needed to accept it… but maybe you need me to spell it out for you. So I will. Fleur Delacour… my beautiful pet veela… you are pregnant with MY child. I’ve knocked you up. I’ve bred you. I’ve inseminated you. You are carrying my baby.”
 
Fleur’s breath comes out in rapid pants as she starts to hyperventilate a little bit at this bombshell. She’d really thought he’d done something to her to make her start lactating. And it turned out he had… it just wasn’t of a magical sort like she’d thought. Rather, he’d done to her what any man in the whole wide world could do to a woman to make them eventually start lactating. He’d gone and knocked her up.
 
Smirking at the look of shock mixed with realization on her face, Barty just snickers… and then looks down at her other breast.
 
“Well now, can’t just leave you lopsided, now can I?”
 
With that, Barty leans in and starts going to town on her other tit as well. You’d think he’d be full by this point, but no… her conqueror is as insatiable as ever. It’s just that this time that insatiability is expressing itself in the form of actual hunger, rather than a lust for her body that can’t be matched. Though to be fair, he IS still inside of her as he drinks. He’s just not moving, forcing Fleur to focus all of her attention on his suckling of her teat… and what it means for them.
 
Finally, the blonde veela finds her voice.
 
“H-how? How is it possible? I can’t be pregnant… it’s almost impossible for a veela to conceive naturally. There… there are rituals to be observed. There are potions that the covens jealously g-guard the recipes for. It… it shouldn’t be possible for me to get pregnant without the help of o-others…”
 
For a long moment, Barty continues to drink… then he pulls off of her nipple, dragging his teeth back along it in a way that has Fleur mewling in pleasure before it finally springs free of his mouth, making her entire breast jiggle. With her milk staining his teeth and lips and chin, her conqueror’s eyes blaze with amusement and life as he gives her a wide, maniacal grin.
 
“How indeed? Are you really that surprised, pet? You know how strong I am. You know how powerful I am. And you know how potent my seed is. Are you shocked that we didn’t need their help? Consider this then… your covens have lied to you all your life.”
 
Fleur’s eyes widen at that as Barty returns to sucking her breast for a time, letting her soak in his words, letting her ruminate over them. Only after a few minutes of him suckling away and her moaning helplessly under him does he pull back and speak again.
 
“They convinced generations of your kind that you needed to be reliant on them and them alone for so much. For freedom from wizards. For the ability to even have children. They made you dependent on them. But in truth… they were keeping you from your true purpose. Tell me, pet… does any part of this feel WRONG to you?”
 
If he had asked her that even a month or two ago, Fleur likes to think she might have been able to muster a ‘yes’. She might not have truly meant it at that point, but she still could have said it and deceived herself into thinking she meant it. However… now? This far into her captivity? Months and months of nothing but pleasure and ecstasy at Barty’s hands has left Fleur a broken woman. She’s not what she used to be. She’s changed.
 
Everything he’s doing to her right now feels good. More than good though, it feels right. It feels right to be beneath her conqueror. It feels right to be used by her conqueror. And more than all of that? Now that she knows the truth? It feels right to be BRED by her conqueror…
 
She can’t muster up the defiance to say ‘yes’, but she also can’t admit he’s right. At least not verbally. Instead she just whimpers and shakes her head back and forth, unable to vocalize a response at all. But then, no response is a response in and of itself. By revealing her incapability to say that any of this feels wrong, she reveals that all of it feels oh so sinfully right.
 
“That’s what I thought. And yet, your covens would have you think that submitting to a wizard is wrong. That giving up your magic to me was a crime. They would disown you and shun you for the things we’ve done together, my pet. Because they’re afraid. Because they hate what they can’t control. Because unlike you, they don’t accept that a veela’s place is pregnant by her master’s side.”
 
A full body shudder rushes through Fleur and she moans as she cums from that alone. She’s pregnant. It’s finally starting to properly hit her but it’s true. She’s well and truly pregnant. Tears flow down her cheeks as she cries in both joy and confusion, not fully understanding how it’s possible but also accepting that she’s been bred by Barty Crouch Jr. and his virile seed. Her lover and conqueror has claimed even her womb for himself… and Fleur finds she doesn’t mind that fact one single bit.
 
Seeing the look of pure euphoric joy on her face, Barty smiles and returns to sucking at her second breast until he’s drunk his fill from that one too. Then, he pulls Fleur into a soul-searing kiss, their tongues dancing with one another as she tastes her own breastmilk on his lips and in his mouth. And Fleur knows… she knows that at this point, it’s over.
 
But it’s also just beginning.
 
-x-X-x-
 
The sun has set outside, not that Barty and Fleur particularly care about that. Still, evening has come all the same and Barty finds himself in just the best mood imaginable as he sits back on the bed, his back against the wall behind him and his legs splayed out. Fleur lays beside him, still lovingly sucking on his cock with her own body splayed out in every direction, completely covered in his seed. Her pussy is copiously leaking his jizz and her face as well is splattered in his virility.
 
He’s absolutely destroyed her both physically with a marathon of aggressive sex all day long, as well as mentally with the revelation of her pregnancy. Honestly, Barty hadn’t even known all that bullshit about veela only being able to get pregnant with the help of their covens. He only had his ancient tome and own personal research to go off of and that was apparently not only a more closely guarded secret than most, but also something that developed after the tome the Dark Lord gifted him was originally written.
 
All in all, it didn’t really matter. Obviously, he knew the truth. That the covens HAD clearly lied to Fleur. No doubt their rituals and potions that they so carefully guarded and kept secret and shrouded in mystery allowed some sort of manipulation of the target veela’s magic in the same exact way Barty had ultimately manipulated Fleur’s magic in order to breed her in the first place.
 
By binding her magic to him, by taking control of her body as he had, Barty had essentially usurped the covens’ place as final arbiter of which veela got to get pregnant by which wizards. That alone was enough to spur him onward, to be honest. It was so fucking hot and so fucking sexy knowing that he’d taken that control away from the veela covens. That he’d not only robbed them of one of their own and made Fleur his pregnant veela bitch, but also that he’d taken their stupid traditions and rituals and made them his own as well.
 
No doubt the whole reason that the covens had decided to control which veela could get pregnant stemmed from their race’s past existence as slaves to wizards. They were probably trying to avoid a return to such a state to the best of their ability, and if they controlled the literal means of production, then even if a stray veela or two DID wind up as a wizard’s slave, she wouldn’t be able to produce more children to be raised in a similar environment. Basically, her ‘sick and twisted’ thinking would die on the vine with her.
 
But of course, the covens couldn’t possibly account for him or the tome that the Dark Lord had procured for him. They had no idea that he’d cracked their code and made one of their women his in every possible way. And they would likely never learn that either.
 
Fleur has calmed down and accepted her new place at this point, as she continues to loyally and lovingly suck on his cock on their bed. Across from them both stands the mirror that Barty likes fucking Fleur in front of so often, and in it you can see the two of them in all of their post-coitus glory. Fleur in particular is especially beautiful right now and as he runs a hand through her hair and pets the top of her head, Barty can’t help but point it out.
 
“Look at you, pet. Look how gorgeous you are.”
 
As Fleur looks at herself in the mirror, continuing to suckle at his cockhead, Barty chuckles darkly.
 
“This is what I dreamed of every night while I was cooped up in Hogwarts. Ever damn day spent as that miserable broken down bastard Moody. I thought about you more often than not, my pet. I thought about breaking you… about making you mine… and more importantly than all of that, I thought about impregnating you. I always knew this day would come. I knew I would arrive here at this point with you by my side… no matter what.”
 
His confidence and conviction only make her suck his cock all the harder as she looks at him in the mirror, adoration and devotion apparent in her eyes.
 
“Fuck, pet… you’re so sexy. And I can’t wait to see your belly grow even larger with the proof of how blessed our wondrous union is.”
 
At that, Fleur finally pulls off of his cock, though she immediately takes his dick in her hands, draped over his leg as she currently is. Covered in his seed, Fleur turns away from the mirror and look up at Barty directly.
 
“… I love you.”
 
He smiles at that, but Fleur isn’t done yet as she jerks him off.
 
“It used to be that I thought I was wrong for that. I acknowledged I’d come to love you, but also acknowledged in the back of my mind how sick I was for that love. But… not anymore. I… I love you wholly and unconditionally, Master. And I’ll do my best to carry your child and help you raise it however you see fit.”
 
Barty’s smile turns back into a smirk and his eyes spark as he shakes his head.
 
“Not just one child, pet. I intend for us to have a large, LARGE family.”
 
Fleur blushes at that and breaks out into a wide, honest smile of her own.
 
“I wouldn’t mind that… Master. I’d be happy to carry as many of your children as you want me to. You’ve proven yourself to be the strongest mate that I could ever have hoped for. You’ve broken me. You’ve shown me my place as a veela is at your feet. I and my body… and my womb… are your reward.”
 
Barty grunts and cums a moment later at that thought, at those words. He cums all over her and Fleur moans as he sprays yet another layer of seed onto her already caked body, before lowering her mouth over his cock to suck the rest of his load down into her gullet.
 
As she drinks his jizz and then returns to lovingly and tenderly sucking him off, Barty leans back against the wall, watching her and starting to plan out the final ritual in his head. It’s time to bind her soul now that every other part of Fleur is his. Sure, one might argue that it’s unnecessary… but no. Barty didn’t come all this way to stop now.
 
He owned Fleur Delacour’s body. He owned her magic. He owned her mind. And now? With this latest confession of hers, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he owned her heart. But he did not yet own Fleur Delacour’s soul. And that… that was what Barty truly wanted. Not just because it would secure her loyalty for the rest of their lives together, but also because it would be the culmination of everything he’d worked for.
 
It was like Fleur said. She was his reward. Specifically, she was his reward from the Dark Lord himself. And even as Lord Voldemort marches closer and closer to victory, Barty knows his Lord would be disappointed in him if he didn’t finish the job. If he stopped right before the finish line. The Dark Lord didn’t have a need for cowards or quitters in his ranks, and Barty has never been either.
 
Sliding his fingers through Fleur’s hair, rubbing his digits against her scalp, Barty lets out a contented sigh as she loyally and diligently sucks his cock. And he prepares, mentally… for the end.
 
But also the beginning.

-x-X-x-

Part 9:

-x-X-x-

It feels almost like a dream. She still can’t fully believe how much her life has changed in the last year, but at this point it’s not like she can deny it. The proof is right in front of her eyes, after all. Three months ago, she’d given birth to a healthy veela girl that Fleur had named Victoire. And just now… she’d just gotten done putting her down for the night.
 
As the myriad of charms on Victoire’s cradle make sure that not only will the baby stay asleep and stay comfortable, but also won’t hear a single sound outside of her crib, Fleur pulls back and lets out a shuddering breath as she contemplates her deep, everlasting love for Victoire’s father. One Barty Crouch Jr.
 
She can’t help but run her hands up and down her body, admiring the utterly gorgeous white lingerie she’s wearing to ‘surprise’ her conqueror with. Tonight is the night. She just knows it. Not just the night that Barty returns home after being gone for over a month on a mission for the Dark Lord, but also the night when… when it all came to a head.
 
Fleur can’t explain the feeling in her gut that something truly special and utterly spectacular was going to happen tonight. Even better than her conqueror impregnating her. Even better than him taking her magic for himself.
 
She’s sent him all sorts of messages over the last month, letting him know how much she’s missed him. She’s told him all about the dirty things she wants him to do to her now that she’s back in shape and has lost most of her baby weight. Most, but not all. After all, some of that baby weight had been… usable. Feeling up her milk-laden tits, Fleur moans as she looks down at herself, admiring her own curves as she twists this way and that.
 
Fleur knows just how good she looks. How fuckable she looks. She-
 
The door to their little cottage opens and Fleur’s breath hitches as she immediately makes her way over to start her seduction in earnest. Stopping in a doorway as her conqueror’s eyes fall upon her, Fleur smiles a wicked sort of smile and strikes a pose. She grabs hold of the doorframe with both hands and crosses one leg in front of the other, letting her tongue slip out ever so slightly through parted lips as she thrusts out her chest and arches her back.
 
In return, Barty just stares, unable to help drinking in the absolutely delectable figure of his love slave for a moment. Only for a moment though, because Fleur can’t wait any longer than that. Once she’s given her conqueror the view he deserves, she pushes off the doorframe and saunters forward, moving with a distinct sultry sway in her hips as she reaches out and starts to help him remove his clothing, starting with his dirty coat and his grimy robes.
 
It's obvious from the bloodstains that Barty has been in many battles… and Fleur knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s won each and every last one of them. As she runs her hands along his body, Fleur can’t help the featherlight moan that leaves her pillowy, pouty lips.
 
“I’ve missed you, sir. I’ve missed your tough, ever since our daughter was born~”
 
Barty remains quiet, but when she looks at his face there’s approval in his eyes. And so Fleur keeps going, until eventually she descends to her knees before him. She can’t help but salivate when his cock finally comes free of its confines, slapping down across her face lengthwise. A wanton, throaty moan leaves the blonde veela’s lips, even as she strokes him up and down while maintaining eye contact all the while.
 
Finally, she gives him a lip-biting grin.
 
“Mm… welcome home, sir~”
 
And then she promptly engulfs his cockhead with her mouth, taking him down her throat as she descends down his girthy length in turn. Stretching her jaw, she proceeds to give him a blowjob and more ‘properly’ welcome him home. Barty, for his part, groans as she pleasure her man for what feels like the first time in months. She can’t get enough of his cock, especially after how long they’ve been apart.
 
He can’t get enough of her mouth either, his fingers carding their way through her hair, his head tilting back for a moment as he groans in appreciation from the work she’s doing with her tongue and lips. His cock twitches and throbs in her maw, feeling like it was made to go there. Like her every orifice was designed specifically to fit Barty Crouch Jr.’s dick.
 
She knows they weren’t of course. She knows her body wasn’t made for this. No… rather, Barty had taken her. He’d captured her and brought her here. He’d made her his own. He’d CONQUERED her. She might not have been made for him, but he’d made her into his pet all the same. He’d made her into his toy, breaking her down and reshaping her into his fuck doll.
 
Back at the start, such thoughts would have horrified Fleur Delacour. Now? Now they only serve to turn her on, making her more aroused as she bobs up and down Barty’s cock with reckless abandon. Suppressing her gag reflex, she shows off just how deep she can take him without choking, smiling up at her conqueror with her eyes the entire time as he stretches her jaw with his girthy mast.
 
“Fleur.”
 
This continues until Barty suddenly calls out her name, prompting Fleur to blink and focus on him more, to make sure she doesn’t miss whatever he has to say. She’s still happily sucking his cock though, taking him all the way down her gullet time and time again and saliva and slobber and drool coalesce on her lower lip and dribble down her chin.
 
Which is why she promptly chokes on his dick at the next words that come out of his mouth.
 
“I’ve brought back the potions needed to do a veela marriage ritual, my darling.”
 
“Gluuuughk!”
 
Fleur’s eyes widen and she has to pull back off of his cock as she stares up at him in amazement. She’d known something was coming… but never in a million years had she imagined it would be THAT. A quivering shudder rushes through her lingerie-clad body and she hurriedly leans forward to kiss his cock while stroking it with both hands.
 
“T-Truly?”
 
In between kissing his dick and sucking at his cockhead, Fleur questions her conqueror, causing Barty to grin and nod.
 
“Oh yes. It’s time, pet.”
 
Filled with ecstatic joy, Fleur wiggles in place and returns to sucking on his cock, moaning around his member as she shows him just how EXCITED she is for this. Barty groans again in response, his fingers gripping down harder on her hair. Though he doesn’t take control. He lets her continue showing him just how eager she is to be wed by him, how enthusiastic she is for the ritual to commence. Her muffled moans fill the air as she slides up and down his cock.
 
Finally though, her conqueror explodes in her mouth. Fleur immediately begins swallowing his seed of course, gulping it down one mouthful after the other until he stops her with a sudden tightening of his hold on her scalp.
 
“Don’t swallow the last bit, darling. Keep it in your mouth for me.”
 
All too eager to obey, Fleur makes sure not to drink ALL of it. Instead, she holds the last mouthful of his seed for hm, watching as Barty reaches into a deceptively small pouch at his waist and pulls forth a bright purple potion.
 
“Open.”
 
Doing so, she lolls out her tongue and shows off his cum all over the inside of her maw. Barty just smiles a wicked smile and proceeds to pour the potion into her open mouth.
 
“Mix it with my cum and then swallow.”
 
Doing as she’s told, her cheeks stuffed to the brim at this point with the mixture, Fleur swishes his cum and the purple potion together for a few moments before swallowing it all down. As she does so, her eyes widen in shock. Her conqueror has owned her Veela Magic for more than half a year at this point, and as a result Fleur has really only had access to it when Barty wants her to have access to it.
 
Well, in this moment… she feels it manifest in the strongest way it ever has. She feels what can ONLY be the marriage ritual commencing. And she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s begun…
 
“Let’s move this to the bedroom, darling.”
 
“Of course, sir~”
 
Fleur is all too happy to lead Barty to the bed. And she’s all too happy to lay down and pull her lingerie aside, offering him her cunt which he happily accepts as he pulls the next potion out of the magically enchanted pouch at his side. As he slides into her sex, filling her with his cock while also tipping the next potion into her mouth… Fleur knows that they’re just getting started.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“Nnnngh!”
 
As she groans around the neck of the latest potion her conqueror is shoving down her throat, Fleur can scarcely believe they’re still going at it. Oh, she’s not surprised that Barty has fucked her all night long, that has happened so routinely throughout her captivity that Fleur can’t possibly be shocked by his immense stamina at this point.
 
What DOES surprise her is that this veela marriage ritual is apparently an all-night affair. Now, obviously Fleur had never heard of such a thing before to be clear. But Barty knew more about her and her people then Fleur herself did, so she didn’t really doubt that the father of her child knew what he was talking about. Ultimately, she trusted him implicitly at this point.
 
Still, the fact that this veela marriage ritual has been going on for so many hours and Barty hasn’t stopped fucking her even once throughout it… it’s left Fleur at the end of her rope. It’s not just the sex, but the fact that he’s continued to steadily pour a myriad of potions down her throat as he fucks her in such an aggressive manner.
 
On her back, moaning up a storm, Fleur can barely keep up. She’s even spilled a couple of the potions, but luckily Barty had backs ups. All the while, his cock has been barreling in and out of her cunt, leaving her to climax around his dick again and again as he fucks her silly. Her lingerie has been pulled to the side and tugged down, leaving her milk-laden tits to bounce and shake and jiggle with the speed he’s fucking her.
 
As much as she loves it all, Fleur can’t deny being downright exhausted. Once again, if it were just sex she would be used to that. But the number of potions Barty has forced down her throat… it seems ill-advised. She doesn’t know what any of them even really do save for that first one that seemed to have opened her Veela Magic up and broadened her senses. Everything has been so much more… REAL since then, making this entire encounter even more intense than all of the times he’s fucked her before now.
 
On top of that, thanks to her pregnancy and recovering from giving birth, it’s been way too long since they were able to even do one of these sex marathons. She’s out of practice, that much is for sure. And yet…
 
“Stay awake now, pet. We’re almost done with the ritual. We’re almost bound together for all eternity. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to be mine in perpetuity?”
 
He’s been saying they’re ‘almost done’ for hours now. But he’s right. Fleur does want that. She wants to be his. She wants to be able to call Barty her husband, to say she herself is his wife. To be his mate in name and not just action is Fleur’s fondest dream at this point in time. While a part of her still can’t help but wonder where he even FOUND this so-called ‘marriage ritual’, Fleur largely doesn’t care. She wants it too much.
 
Even still, her sweat-covered body can barely keep up with Barty’s virile stamina and she’s on the verge of passing out by this point. Which is why it’s almost a relief when he suddenly pulls out of her just long enough to spin her over onto her front. Fleur gasps as she’s forced up onto her hands and knees, Barty’s cock jamming back into her drooling, well-fucked quim without hesitation.
 
The change in position is a shock to the system that Fleur was actually in desperate need of, because now she can focus on pushing herself up and holding herself on her hands and knees, rather than sinking deeper and deeper into the comfortable pillows that were just under her. Gasping, groaning, and moaning, Fleur thinks that this time around, Barty might have actually been telling the truth. After all, there’s no more potions now. So maybe… maybe it is finally almost over?
 
Unbeknownst to Fleur, Barty has lied to her. Of course he has. While technically he probably could have just told his pet veela what he was really doing, it was too ingrained in him to withhold information from her. Information she didn’t need to know… until it was too late.
 
Fucking her like this, the pleasure is undeniable. Finally being able to plow her silly for hours and hours on end is a glorious sensation that Barty missed, truly he did. Especially given all of those dirty messages Fleur kept sending him while he was away on his mission for the Dark Lord. So yes… he’s stretched out the ritual. He technically could have rushed it and forced Fleur to chug all of the potions he’d fed her over a much shorter time span. Instead, he’d taken his time.
 
He couldn’t help himself. This was it, the culmination of everything he’d worked for. He wanted it to go just right. Still… it was finally time to finish things. It was finally time to bring the actual ritual he’d been performing, a Ritual of Veela Soul-Binding, to a close.
 
Unbeknownst to Fleur, there’s a very good reason that Barty flipped her over onto her hands and knees and is now taking her doggystyle. And no, it wasn’t just to keep her awake. No… her entire back is now covered in sexy-as-fuck runes that all glow with power. They’ve crept up to the back of her neck, and as Barty places a hand on the center of the tattoo located at the small of her back, he channels his magic through it and they creep up even further.
 
They’re just starting to wrap around the nape of her neck, but it needs another push… from her side of things. This is half the reason why Barty hasn’t let Fleur pass out. He needs her to be an active participant. He needs her to keep cumming her sexy little brains out for him. Of course, the other half of the reason he hasn’t let her pass out is because he WANTS her to be conscious for this. It wouldn’t be perfect if she were to sleep through her final complete and total subjugation.
 
With that said, Barty picks up the pace, his free hand going under Fleur to pinch her clit. At the same time, he leans in close and whispers two words in her ear.
 
“Almost done.”
 
That prompts another explosive orgasm from the beleaguered, exhausted blonde. And that orgasm is what finally does the trick. The glowing runes of power completely encircle her neck as Fleur throws her head back, crying out in ecstasy… and shouting his name at the top of her lungs.
 
“BAAAAARTYYYYYYYY!!!”
 
Her back naturally arches in such a glorious manner as she cums and cums, but Barty doesn’t let her slump forward again. Before the natural spine arch can end, he moves his hands under her chin against her jaw and holds her head in place. Her mouth wide open, her tongue lolling out… Barty watches from above with his cock buried in Fleur’s cunt as his pet veela’s soul coalesces and travels from deep within her… to her mouth.
 
The small little ball that represents her soul is even tinier than the one that represented her magic. As it ends up resting on her tongue, Barty just smiles down at it. He’s well aware that in this moment, Fleur literally can’t do anything. Her body has completely surrendered to the magic… to HIS magic. She’s frozen in place, still conscious but quite literally unable to act thanks to the vulnerable state of her soul.
 
Leaning down, Barty gives his beloved pet veela an upside down kiss, playing with her soul as their tongues swap spit for a moment. Then, leaving her soul where it is momentarily, he pulls back and smiles down at her.
 
“I lied to you, my sweet. There was no marriage ritual. A creature like you doesn’t get married, pet… you get tamed. You get bound. You become… owned. And now? Now I will own you. Not just your magic. Not just your love. Not just your mind. But down to the depths of your very soul. I will own you and from this point on, you will never again question whether I am your Master or not.”
 
Knowing she can’t move anymore, Barty runs his hands down across her body, along her arched form. He feels up her tits, and then her waist and hips. He lets out a shuddering sigh as he plays with her clit.
 
“You are… so beautiful. And all mine. You have always belonged to me. You just didn’t know it. But now you do. With an ancient tome given to me by the Dark Lord himself, I have spent the last year and a half breaking you down. I have turned you into my plaything. I have ruined any other men for you. You cannot live without me now…”
 
Looking down into her frozen eyes, knowing she’s hearing every word he’s speaking, Barty smiles at seeing a single tear slowly making its way down from the corner of one of her eyes.
 
“Do not fret, darling. I take the responsibility I have for you quite seriously. You and our daughter. And any other children that you have for me in the coming years. We might not be getting married but allow me to make my vows to you all the same. I will never abandon you. I will never discard you. You, Fleur Delacour, are my magnum opus. Together, we are one. Unified as one being… under MY Will.”
 
Inside of her mind, Fleur knows she should be horrified by all of this. She’s not going to become Barty’s wife. She was never going to be his wife. And perhaps some small part of her IS horrified by that revelation, by the realization of how far she’s fallen. But… in falling so far, Fleur has lost a lot of her capacity for being horrified. And she’s terribly aroused by all of the effort that her… her Master went through to break her down and build her into the woman she is today.
 
There’s no escaping it either way, and so even though an involuntary tear escapes from one of her eyes as Barty leans forward, the larger part of Fleur Delacour is actually quite content with this fate. Her Master kisses her again, and this time he takes the tiny little ball that represents her soul off of her tongue and into his own mouth, swallowing it right there on the spot.
 
Fleur feels the soulbond between the two of them solidify. She feels as not just her magic, but every part of her very self falls under the control of Barty Crouch Jr. in that moment. There is quite literally no other word to describe him any longer. Even ‘conqueror’ doesn’t really do it justice. From this moment onwards, Barty is… and always will be… Fleur Delacour’s Master.
 
-x-X-x-
 
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
 
“That’s right bitch. Take it! You like that, don’t you? More than you ever thought possible!”
 
What was a man to do when he’d finally reached the culmination of everything he’d been aiming for? Why, celebrate of course. And how else was Barty supposed to celebrate his complete and utter triumph than by fucking the absolute SHIT out of Fleur? He’s kept her on her hands and knees but repositioned them both so they’re facing his favorite mirror as he rails her from behind doggystyle.
 
Seeing her face contort in ecstasy, watching her eyes roll back in her head and her tongue loll out of her mouth as he fucks her from behind… it never gets old. Especially when combined with the way Fleur’s milk-laden tits, each capped with a rock hard but also leaking nipple, bounce and sway back and forth with the rest of her jolting, shaking, quivering body.
 
“YES! YES MASTER! I LOVE IT! I LOVE YOUR BIG FAT COCK STIRRING UP MY INSIDES!”
 
Fleur, for her part, is very, very loud. It’s lucky that they got a crib with all of the latest magical bells and whistles for their daughter, because Victoire would probably have woken up at this rate. But no, the infant is still sound asleep in her bed. Barty would know if she wasn’t, his own magic is tied into the wards monitoring her constantly.
 
Her mother, meanwhile, has completely broken down. Not that that’s much different from how she was before, but there IS a change. It’s a little subtle, but it’s definitely there. Her body is as willing as ever, but now Barty can FEEL her soul… and his mastery over it. She is His. Fundamentally, she is HIS.
 
With that power, Barty has washed away Fleur’s exhaustion. He’s given her a solid boost of energy, leaving her no longer on the verge of passing out. It’s allowed them to fuck all the harder, with his hands digging into her hips as she moans wantonly and wildly, staring at herself in the mirror while he fucks her. At the same time, Barty can do more than just wipe away her beleaguered state…
 
Leaning forward, he wraps a hand around to grab Fleur’s jaw, staring at her in the mirror as she stares back at him with hungry adulation in her eyes.
 
“Cum for me, darling. Cum your pretty little brains out.”
 
Fleur’s eyes widen for half a moment before fully rolling back in her head as she cums explosively on the spot. Her entire body shakes and spasms and her pussy walls CLAMP down on his cock briefly before releasing a positive flood of pussy juices down his length. Barty, for his part, doesn’t stop fucking her for even a second.
 
Moaning, Fleur takes a moment to recover before making eye contact with him again.
 
“That’s… so sexy, Master. I love how you own me. I love how much power you have over me.”
 
That’s the soulbind talking, of course. But it’s also all of the hard work they’ve done over this past year and a half as well. Because Barty never could have brute forced it. If he had, he would have turned Fleur into little more than a lifeless doll. Comatose and barely worth keeping around. Instead, he’d taken things slowly. He’d made it all worthwhile. And slowly but surely, he’d sculpted Fleur into the perfect pet.
 
“I want… I want…”
 
Barty pauses at that, eyebrow lifting as Fleur shudders beneath him. As his soulbound veela, it wasn’t actually easy for her to express her own wants and desires anymore. Her entire life revolved around pleasing him, so any time she asked for something, Barty would make sure to take notice and… if it was advantageous, he would get it for her.
 
“I want to grow heavy with your child again, Master! P-Please… please let me watch this time as you force me to ovulate like you did for our first child! Please let me see the exact moment you impregnate me, Master!”
 
For a moment, Barty just lets those words wash over him… then, he lets out a lustful growl, even more turned on by Fleur’s request then he’d ever imagined he would be.
 
“Of course, pet. Ask and you shall receive.”
 
All too happy to oblige his veela slave, Barty yanks Fleur up off of the bed and back against his chest. With her still on her knees and still impaled on his cock, he holds her tightly as he starts channeling magic into her womb and ovaries. With not just her magic under his control, but also her soul as well, it’s all too easy to make happen what he wants to happen. In fact, both she and he get to watch through the mirror as her ovaries and womb are both outlined by a dark red glow atop her skin.
 
“F-Fuck… that’s so sexy, Master…”
 
Barty feels the exact same way, even as he fucks her from behind and below, his cock bulging out the dark red outline each and every time. A few thrusts later and they finally cum together at that. Fleur’s eyes very nearly roll up in her head from the pleasure, but he forces them to stay open and watching as his seed flows into her womb, and as their magic intertwine with one another.
 
She gets to see the entire process, just as she begged him to show her. And by the end of it, they can both see that she’s been knocked up. That the very beginning of life has started to grow in her womb.
 
Fleur cries out in joy at witnessing this, while Barty revels in the results of all of his hard work. Admiring just how good his pet veela looks in the mirror, he smiles a very wicked, very evil smile.
 
It had taken over a year and a half to break down Fleur Delacour and remake her into his soulbound veela pet. But in the end, having her by his side for the rest of their days made it all so damn worth it.

-x-X-x-

Part 10:

-x-X-x-

Victoire Delacour was in something of a quandary. It was her final year at Beauxbatons, and it was almost time for the Yule Ball. While this was a tradition that other schools like Hogwarts and Durmstrang only observed during Triwizard Tournaments, its origin was actually in Beauxbatons, and as such the Academy held a Yule Ball every single year around this time.
 
She, of course, was easily the most gorgeous girl in the school. She had veela blood after all, and it left every boy wanting to be her date. Not that most could even begin to meet her standards. Not only had Victoire Delacour inherited her mother’s exceptional beauty, but she’d also inherited her father’s prowess in magic… and dueling in particular.
 
Of course, unbeknownst to Victoire Delacour, her father was not who he seemed. She did not know him as Barty Crouch Jr., servant to the former Dark Lord who’d fallen in Britain all those years ago shortly after she was born. She did not know him as the wanted Death Eater who even now Magical Britain still kept an eye out after all this time. She simply knew him as her father, and she loved him with all her heart.
 
And he loved her. Her father had trained her personally, and Victoire was easily the best duelist in the Academy, on top of being its most eligible bachelorette as a result. But that didn’t mean she had completely struck out in the matter of finding love and romance. In point of fact, Victoire had already decided who she was going to the Yule Ball with. Nikolaus, a childhood friend of hers. And of course, when she’d told him that they would be attending the ball together, he’d agreed quite easily.
 
Nikolaus was a resource that Victoire had been cultivating all throughout her time at Beauxbatons. They’d met back during their First Year and she’d made sure they were fast friends ever since. He was a nerdy guy, very bookish in fact, but Victoire had quickly realized that was a good thing. She’d made use of him, even as she’d found herself coming to like him as a person more and more as well.
 
But then the past year and a half had happened and something had changed. Nikolaus had always been rather nerdy… until suddenly, he’d started coming into his own. More and more girls had started to notice HER friend. The resource SHE’D cultivated was suddenly being scouted out by witches who weren’t even in the same realm of beauty. That they thought they could be HER competition was absolutely ludicrous.
 
Still, Victoire had made sure to tell Nikolaus they were going to the Ball together before any of the bolder, more foolish witches at Beauxbatons could beat her to it. That said, she didn’t quite understand why it bothered her so much. In the same way, she didn’t quite understand why she felt like she HAD to impress him with the killer dress that she’d gotten. Silvery and slinky, it shows off quite a lot of her substantial chest… which is just the way Victoire likes it.
 
That all brought her back to her quandary though. Put simply, she was hoping to find her mother and ask Fleur for some advice on how best to approach the night ahead. Should she be standoffish and absent with Nikolaus to leave him wanting more? Should she judge his performance over the course of the night and if his eyes didn’t stray from her too much, grace him with a kiss? Or… or should she do what her heart yearned to do but her mind told her was a bad idea? Should she give in to her desires and stake her claim with him this very evening?
 
It sounded like such a bad idea… but also sinfully delicious. If nothing else, Victoire could envision the thought of Nikolaus’ hands on her dress-clad body. Removing said dress. Touching her all over. It leaves her flushed and slightly panting as she makes her way through the Delacour Chateau.
 
Of course, if there’s one thing that cools her ardor for the time being, it’s all her little bratty siblings running around. As she navigates through the house, she can’t help but smile at all of her younger brothers and sisters that she passes by. Theirs was a large family, with Victoire being the eldest of twelve. She was not only the Firstborn, but she was also the only one born not a twin or a triplet.
 
Although, putting their entire family, you wouldn’t be able to tell based on how her mother had aged… or rather, how she HADN’T aged. In fact, even as Victoire had grown into her beauty over these past few years, the more she’d looked in the mirror, the more she’d seen her mother’s face staring back at her. It was as reaffirming as it was unnerving. She was happy to be as beautiful and gorgeous as her mother… but still a little caught off guard that Fleur didn’t look a day older despite having given birth to Victoire nearly two decades ago.
 
Arriving at her parents’ room at long last, Victoire can immediately tell that the two were having some ‘alone time’ before the Ball, based solely on the wards surrounding the door. It makes sense, to be fair. With twelve children, its not often that her mother and father get to… sneak away. And so, rather than sneak away, they simply make it clear that they’re busy with wards like these.
 
Of course, the worst that any of these wards can do is give a terrible, lasting sting as punishment. Her father could definitely make harsher wards, Victoire is well aware of that, but it’s not like he’s trying to kill or maim his children or anything like that.
 
And yet… Victoire isn’t really a child anymore. And her father has trained her a little TOO well. Smiling a wicked smile, Victoire lifts her hand and sets to work on the wards, able to create a ‘peephole’ of sorts with her inherited magical prowess. Through that, the young veela woman is able to peek inside and see exactly what’s going on.
 
The first thing she notes is the music. The second thing she notes is her mother, giving her naked father a striptease. Fleur Delacour dances to the music as she wears a sensational set of lingerie, one that compliments her beauty perfectly. Of course, it’s already half-off by the time Victoire peeks in, and the rest of it doesn’t last much longer either.
 
Victoire finds herself blushing profusely but also mesmerized by the sight as Fleur shimmies and wiggles to the music, her beautiful body jiggling and shaking in ALL the best ways. Meanwhile, Victoire’s father… he’s rock hard. His cock is in one hand and it has to be the biggest she’s ever seen.
 
Not that Victoire wants to be with her father. Oh sure, she’s had fantasies from time to time. She feels like every girl probably does, especially when their father is as handsome as Victoire’s is. But… no. He’s her father at the end of the day, and besides… she has Nikolaus.
 
Still, she can’t quite bring herself to look away as Fleur finally finishes stripping naked, standing before her husband completely nude and exposed to his gaze. Victoire’s father feasts his eyes upon her mother’s beauty for a moment before smiling and nodding to her.
 
“Remove the glamour and come here, pet.”
 
“Of course, Master~”
 
Victoire’s eyes nearly bug out of her head as her mother removes a glamour she hadn’t even known existed, revealing that her entire body is covered in glowing, runic tattoos. She watches as Fleur Delacour, sprite as can be and prancing like a young filly, saunters over to her father and spins around, promptly impaling herself reverse cowgirl upon his big fat erect cock.
 
Her mother’s entire chest and abdomen are also covered in runic tattoos, and they glow and shimmer as she slowly starts grinding down on the big fat dick she’s sinking onto. Fleur moans and throws her head back onto her husband’s shoulder, causing him to chuckle and lean in to kiss her deeply for a moment as his hands go to her hips and begins to bounce her up and down on his cock.
 
This continues for several minutes before they finally have to pull apart for air, at which point Fleur, panting even more heavily than before, looks into her husband’s eyes and moans.
 
“Mm… we s-should probably get r-ready to take Victoire to her dance soon, Master~”
 
In response, Victoire’s father slides his hands from his veela wife’s hips up to her chest, groping and squeezing her breasts in a way that makes Fleur moan all the more wantonly.
 
“We have plenty of time left pet. Not to worry.”
 
As he dives in for another kiss, Victoire finally realizes that she’s literally watching her parents have sex. Even if they’re two of the hottest, most attractive people in her life… they’re still her mom and dad. Blushing profusely and feeling incredibly embarrassed over how aroused she currently is, Victoire quickly closes the peephole and redoes the wards, making sure that her presence will never be noticed.
 
On the one hand, as a daughter, you never want to accidentally find out that your parents are THAT kinky. She didn’t quite understand what those runic tattoos meant, but for her mother to be wearing a glamour at all times… well, it implied they were always there. Meaning her father and mother had THAT sort of relationship. To be fair, Fleur HAD called her father ‘Master’. And her father had called her mother ‘pet’. He liked to call her mom ‘pet’ out in public too, but obviously Fleur had never referred to him as ‘Master’ before.
 
On the other hand, Victoire was feeling a strange sort of way about all of it. Seeing her mother call her father ‘Master’… seeing Fleur covered in all of those glowing tattoos establishing her father’s domination over her mother… it was kind of hot. No, scratch that, it was VERY hot. As Victoire hurries away from her parents’ door, not wanting to be caught by either them OR one of her too-inquisitive siblings, she can’t help but rub her thighs together and bite her lower lip in… anticipation.
 
She’d come to get her mother’s advice on what to do tonight with Nikolaus. And while Fleur had been indisposed, Victoire had still come away with an answer all the same…
 
-x-X-x-
 
Standing there at Beauxbatons’ yearly Yule Ball, Barty Crouch Jr. find himself regretting coming to this dance. Not that he’s worried about being caught or anything like that. His cover story and false identity are ironclad, mostly thanks to Fleur’s efforts when the Dark Lord fell and they had to retreat to Europe.
 
To say that Barty had been shocked that Lord Voldemort failed would be an understatement. If it wasn’t for Fleur, the infant Victoire, and the family he’d built with them, Barty imagines he probably would have gone insane and gone out in a blaze of glory. Or been recaptured and stuffed back in Azkaban for the rest of his days. Either way, it was only because he had Fleur and their firstborn daughter that Barty had been able to tear himself away.
 
For that, he would always be grateful to the Dark Lord. Even if Voldemort was gone now, the Dark Mark having completely disappeared this time and not a whisper of his presence still remaining, Barty would always hold a special place in his heart for his fallen Lord. Still, he couldn’t waste the precious resource that was his life on trying to avenge Lord Voldemort, no matter how much he might have wanted to. He had a veela slave and a family to look after, after all.
 
And oh what a family it had become. Fleur’s ‘miraculous recovery’ was the stuff of legends among the Veela Covens of France once she returned to their shores. And the best part was, not a single one of the Coven Leaders could tell what he’d done to Fleur. The tome that the Dark Lord had procured for him was so ancient, its techniques so lost to time, that the Veela of the modern era quite literally could not recognize a Soulbond Veela standing right in front of them.
 
They could not see that Barty held full dominion over Fleur’s magic and soul. They could not see that he had enslaved one of their own. All they saw was Fleur’s ‘savior’. The wizard who had gone to such great lengths to pull a ‘traumatized’ Fleur Delacour from the depths of one of the Dark Lord’s dungeons.
 
Needless to say, no one in Magical France thought it at all odd that Fleur had taken a fancy to her ‘savior’ and ultimately married Barty. No one found it all that strange that he took her name either, seeing how ‘Delacour’ was quite the prestigious House in Magical France. Ultimately, all in all… no one suspected a thing. And so Barty and Fleur had flown right under the radar as the Dark Lord’s forces were dismantled and removed from play after his demise. And so nearly two decades had passed. Years in which Barty and Fleur had had eleven more children, all of them either twins or triplets.
 
Years in which Victoire Delacour, their Firstborn Daughter, had grown up and become a beautiful young woman, about to graduate from Beauxbatons and take the world by storm.
 
Truth be told, it wasn’t the possibility of being found out or caught that made Barty regret coming to this Yule Ball. No, rather, it was the fact that letting Victoire grind up against her date for the evening took all of his willpower and then some. He itched to kill the boy for daring to lay his hands on Barty’s daughter… but no, he couldn’t do that.
 
After all, Nikolaus was his choice. He was the horse in this particular race that Barty had decided to back. It had been nearly two years ago now when Nikolaus had come to Barty with proverbial hat in hand and asked ‘Monsieur Delacour’ if he could pursue his daughter romantically. All very official, and traditional and all that rot. Barty had approved… of the approach, anyways.
 
Of Nikolaus himself, Barty had initially been less certain. The boy wasn’t a half-bad wizard of course, but Barty only wanted the very best for his daughter. Unfortunately, out of everyone in Victoire’s generation that he’d had his eyes on, Nikolaus WAS the best candidate from a subpar and less-than-satisfactory lot. At the end of the day, Nikolaus had been at Victoire’s side from back near the beginning of their time at Beauxbatons together. He had put his all into helping her with her schoolwork and just generally being her friend.
 
However, Barty was well aware that his darling little girl wasn’t perfect. No, Victoire had her flaws, just as everyone did. One of them, unfortunately, was that she was plenty vain on account of inheriting all the best features of her parents. She did not see Nikolaus as a potential romantic partner, not back then anyways. He was just her ‘friend’… or rather, in her eyes he was just a repository of knowledge that she kept close by at all times so she could get answers to any questions she needed answered.
 
All of this was to say… Barty had made absolutely sure before he’d taken his next step. He’d run poor young Nikolaus through the wringer, not only grilling him verbally, but also testing him physically and magically. The process had been grueling, but then that was half the point. Nikolaus hadn’t passed EVERY test, nor had he answered EVERY question exactly the right way. But he’d stuck it out. At no point had he faltered. At no point had his resolve or determination diminished even a little bit. He had, effectively, passed the most important test of all by simply making it clear just how much he wanted to be with Barty’s daughter.
 
… And so, when all was said and done and Barty was satisfied that Nikolaus was the best of a bad set of options, he’d gone ahead and set out to turn the boy into the best possible man for his daughter that Nikolaus could be. He’d let Nikolaus in on the secret of his and Fleur’s relationship, after not only ascertaining that the boy had the right mentality to be his daughter’s eventual master, but also swearing him to secrecy, a literal unbreakable vow that would kill the boy if he ever tried to let anything Barty had told him slip.
 
He hadn’t given Nikolaus the tome… that would be staying with Barty for the rest of his day. However, he had given the boy a handwritten book penned by Barty himself titled ‘How To Train Your Veela’. He’d told Nikolaus that he had his blessing… and his support. And from there, Barty had started the transformation of Victoire’s childhood friend into a strong and handsome young man.
 
So yes, while his fatherly instincts might be screaming at him to kill this boy who was getting way too familiar with his daughter in a public setting, Barty knew he couldn’t do that. Because at the end of the day, this was all his design. As much as he might not want it to happen, Victoire was all grown up now and it was time for her to leave the nest. But in the end… she would not be leaving the nest to be a strong, independent veela. Rather, he would be granting her to the boy who had pined over her for their entire adolescence.
 
It would be up to Nikolaus to seal the deal, however. He would have to-
 
“Beloved. You’re brooding.”
 
Suddenly, Fleur is at his side, hugging into him and forcing him to turn his gaze from their daughter and her date to his veela pet. Wearing a dress that’s pretty much just as provocative if not more so than Victoire’s and the other girls, Fleur Delacour… Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, beams at him and bats her eyelashes enticingly.
 
“Shall we… retire, beloved?”
 
Reading her mind is as simple as reaching out to it, the Soulbond as strong as ever between them. Barty can’t help but smirk at what he sees in her perverse thoughts. In the end, he nods and lets her lead him away. The Yule Ball has plenty more chaperones to watch over it and keep it from getting out of control. It can spare its Headmistress and her husband for the rest of the night.
 
And so Fleur leads him to her office, where all of the paintings of past Beauxbatons Headmasters and Headmistresses have been vacated for the evening. She leads him inside, brings up the wards, and saunters over to the desk… where she turns and with a flick of her wand, transforms her incredibly sexy dress into a VERY familiar Beauxbatons School Uniform. It’s the bright blue travel outfit that Fleur wore all those years ago, back during the Nineteen-Ninety-Four Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts. Complete with the cute little blue hat on top of her head as well.
 
Batting her eyelashes at him, the gorgeous blonde veela licks her lips suggestively as she leans back against the front of her desk.
 
“Oh, please Headmaster sir… I know I’ve been dreadfully naughty, going around school without panties… but surely you understand how itchy they get? They just make it so hard to concentrate. Please… surely we can work something out~”
 
Barty chuckles darkly and strides forward, his eyes filled with dark promise as he closes in on the tasty little treat in front of him. Seeing Fleur like this is certainly a blast from the past. After all, she’d been wearing this outfit when he’d first laid eyes on her and his lust for her had just begun.
 
“… Well Ms. Delacour, if you’re feeling an… itch down there, perhaps it would be best to scratch it.”
 
Fleur wastes no time playing innocent or acting coy. They might be roleplaying here, but it’s obvious she’s too turned on to wait for long.
 
“Oh! Would you, Headmaster?! Yes please! Please scratch my itch! Right here on your desk, if you want!”
 
With a lustful growl, Barty lunges forward. He grabs Fleur by her hips and lifts her up onto the edge of HER desk, treating the Headmistress-Turned-School Girl like his plaything. Which she is, of course. One of the most influential witches in all of Magical France, the Headmistress of France’s Premiere Magical Academy, and more recently, a candidate for Elder of France’s largest Veela Coven.
 
And yet none of them knew the truth. None of them knew that Fleur Delacour was actually… his soulbound slave.
 
Tearing Fleur’s blue coat open, hiking up her skirt to find that she truly is pantyless to his amusement and enjoyment, Barty pulls out his cock and thrusts it into his lovely veela pet right there on the spot. He begins to fuck her there on the desk, pounding her silly as Fleur cries out lustfully, her tits bouncing and her body jiggling with the forceful jolts of his thrusts.
 
“Yes! Yes, HARDER! Fuck me harder, Master! Oh YES!”
 
As they fuck vigorously, Fleur’s lewd and loud cries fill the Headmistress’ Office. Her office. And Barty… Barty leans forward and buries his face in the crook of her neck, suckling at her flesh and producing a hickey in no time as he pounds into her with all his might. Her pussy stretches in an oh so satisfying manner, accepting his throbbing cock with every thrust he makes. And her arms and legs cling to him, holding him to her all the while.
 
Eventually, Fleur’s moans quiet down a bit… and then she softly admits something directly into his ear.
 
“I know what you did, Master. I know that you gave young Nikolaus that book, as well as resources to help him claim Victoire. I know you chose him for taming our firstborn daughter, and that you intend to have Victoire follow me, her mother, into slavery to a wizard. And I want you to know… I found that so incredibly hot~”
 
Barty’s cock jumps inside of Fleur at his veela slave’s confession, though she’s not done just yet.
 
“I think it’s s-so sexy, how you, nngh, are passing down your knowledge of how to t-tame haughty veela bitches like m-myself. When our children grow up, I want you to find a wizard for each of our girls… and I want to help you find a veela for each of our boys.”
 
Barty growls lustfully at that, the idea more than a little arousing to him. Their children were all growing up so fast, it was true. And he could only hope he would find wizards worthy of the rest of his daughters like he’d found Nikolaus for Victoire. But his sons… well, they had minor veela magic, but only women could actually BE veela. His sons were all wizards who took after their father… and Fleur was promising to use her growing position of power with the Veela Covens to go right under their noses and handpick future veela slaves for each of their sons.
 
How could he not fuck her harder at that? How could he not be aroused by such a future?
 
“Please… please, master! Fuck me! Impregnate me once more! Breed your horny veela broodmare and knock me up! Nnngh, it would have been so hot if you’d come to Beauxbatons for the Triwizard Tournament instead of the other way around, Master. It would have been so hot if you’d fucked me back then, pinning me down and making me cum for you until you’d bred me and knocked me up! Please… give it to me!”
 
Barty obliges her, fucking her harder and faster until at long last, they both cum. They reach mutual release together, climaxing explosively with one another. As they bask in their shared orgasm, Fleur mewls into his ear.
 
“I want to keep growing our family, my Master. I want you to make me bear your children for the rest of my days. My body can take it thanks to the soulbond. I haven’t aged a day, and I’ve recovered from every birth in under a week. I could have another dozen… another two dozen… as many as you like, Master! Just please… never stop fucking me~”
 
That is a promise Barty is happy to make. Growling lustfully, his cock hard once more, he begins fucking his pet veela again, pounding her even harder atop the Headmistress’ Desk.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Admittedly, they’d gotten carried away. So much so in fact that by the time Barty and Fleur make their way back down from the Headmistress’ Office so many hours later, its to find that the Yule Ball is over and the only ones left are the Academy’s contingent of House Elves, all cleaning up the place.
 
With a shrug, they floo back home and do the rounds, making sure all of their children are in bed before they head to bed themselves. That, of course, is when they both hear the muted moaning coming from Victoire’s room. Their Firstborn has an entire wing of the Chateau all to herself these days, so there’s no danger of their other children hearing and seeing something they shouldn’t. However, Barty and Fleur… well, they can’t quite help themselves.
 
In fact, before Barty can do it, Fleur pulls out her wand and casts a spell that makes the wall in front of them one-way transparent, allowing them both to see their daughter on her bed getting absolutely RAILED by her ‘friend’ Nikolaus. In turn, Barty casts a spell that allows them both to hear what’s going on in the room as well.
 
They listen and watch as Victoire, her dress shredded and in tatters on the floor, moans into Nikolaus’ hand as he fucks her doggystyle. With one hand clamped around her mouth to try and keep her quiet, he pounds into her from behind, fucking her with every ounce of strength he has. In turn, Victoire’s entire body is covered in sweat and her eyes have rolled up in her head.
 
Familiar potion bottles lay strewn about the floor and bed as well, and Barty knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Nikolaus has been following his book. As the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh fill their ears however, he hears shlicking noises much closer by… and looks over to see Fleur has started touching herself to the scene of their daughter being dominated by her childhood friend.
 
Chuckling softly, Barty moves into position behind his wife, bends her forward a bit, and thrusts into her from behind. He slowly begins to fuck her as they stand and watch the scene in front of them. The two young people, unaware that they have an audience, continue to go at it like a pair of rabbits, fucking like crazy. Until finally, Nikolaus speaks up, his voice a whisper but Barty’s spell making it so that they hear every word.
 
“… I’ve wanted you for so damn long, Victoire. You were my first and only crush. You were the subject of every sexual fantasy and masturbatory session I’ve ever had. No other witch ever so much as caught my eye. And yet… I’m not an idiot. I never was. I know that you never intended to give me the time of day romantically. That I was just your archive of information to be used and abused.”
 
With a growl, he pulls his hand back from her mouth and rears it back before bringing it down HARD on her ass.
 
S-SMACK!
 
Victoire squeals loudly at that… and then shakes and spasms her way through an obvious orgasm upon Nikolaus’ cock.
 
“S-Sorry… I’m sorry, Nik! I d-didn’t treat you fairly… I was a stuck-up, h-haughty bitch! Please… a-ah, please forgive me! I know b-better now! I know that I want to be with y-you and only y-you!”
 
Grunting, huffing, and panting, Nikolaus grabs Victoire by her hips, really giving it to her now. He pounds into her cunt with every inch of his cock, driving deeply into their daughter’s depths without respite, without mercy, without hesitation. His eyes glimmer in the room’s low light and there’s a wicked grin on his face matched only by the determination in his expression.
 
“If you really want me to apologize… you’ll let me cum inside of you, Victoire. I’m getting close now. I’m going to blow my load. Let me fill you up. Let me paint your womb white with my seed. BEG for it… and I’ll forgive you.”
 
Victoire’s breath hitches at that and she freezes up for a moment before his next thrust makes another wanton moan fall from her lips.
 
“W-Wait… I-I… I can’t… I’m n-not ready to be a mother, Nik… we’re just about to graduate… don’t… don’t we want to see the world f-first?”
 
Growling, Nikolaus leans forward, grabbing Victoire by her hair and pulling her up off of the bed and against his chest. He nibbles at her shoulder for a moment, fucking her even harder as she moans wantonly while being bounced against his dick.
 
“I do want to see the world with you, Victoire. I want to see all the wonders that there are… with you by my side. But how can I trust you really care when you’re still holding parts of yourself back from me? I need to know you care about me as much as I care about you. I need to know you want to submit.”
 
There’s a brief pause and Barty, still fucking Fleur in the hallway outside of the bedroom, wonders if Nikolaus might have overstepped with that last line. It’s a fine balance, walking the tightrope between dominating your haughty veela pet and keeping her enthusiastic about the process. And seeing how Barty would never condone letting Nikolaus lock his daughter up in a small cottage in the wilderness for a year and some change, the boy is going to have to do things differently than Barty did with Fleur.
 
Especially since Victoire inherited her dueling prowess from Barty, not her mother. That said…
 
“… Please. Please cum inside, Nik. Please sir… I can submit… to m-my beloved…”
 
With that, Nikolaus growls and pushes her forward again, leaning over her and fucking her even harder.
 
“That’s right. I am your beloved. And you are MINE.”
 
Heh, Victoire might have inherited her dueling prowess from her father, but she’d inherited her mother’s natural submissiveness in the end after all. Barty and Fleur watch as Victoire and Nikolaus cum together. A few moments later, they both reach a mutual climax as well. As Victoire collapses from the pleasure, Nikolaus pulls out of her… but only long enough to pull out a stamina potion, down it, and flip the moaning blonde onto her back.
 
He starts railing her in a mating press at that, even as Victoire winds up with her head dangling backwards off the bed, giving Barty and Fleur a look at the love-drunk, cum-drunk expression their firstborn daughter is making as she’s fucked into oblivion and begins the first steps of the same journey of dominion and conquest that Fleur did all those years ago.
 
It’s then that the two cancel their spells, turning the wall solid again and removing the listening charm. As Victoire’s wanton moans travel more naturally into the hallway, Fleur turns around and drops to her knees, beginning to clean Barty’s cock with her mouth. As she does so, his beloved veela slave looks up at him with twinkling eyes and moans throatily.
 
“We should copy that book you gave Nikolaus, Master. Not just for our sons and the wizards you choose for taming our daughters… but for others as well. So that any wizard who takes the time to properly prepare can be rewarded with a loyal, soulbound veela slave. I’ll help you hide it from the covens of course… and Beauxbatons can probably produce a few wizards worthy of your teachings every few years~”
 
Barty jolts at the thought of it. Of him teaching a secret course on Veela Subjugation in the hidden recesses of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. With a Veela Headmistress in charge of the school, no one would ever expect that there was a secret cult dedicated to the domination of veela by wizards lurking in the depths of the Academy. The thought of it… of him being responsible for bringing a new age of Wizard Soulbonded Dominion over the Veela Covens, like the conquerors of old… it sends a surge of satisfaction through Barty.
 
Growling, he grabs Fleur by her hair and slides her down his cock, starting to fuck her face right there on the spot as the melodic sounds of his veela daughter beginning her journey to being claimed by her wizard come through the wall. And he knows… he knows that in spite of the Dark Lord’s defeat, everything Barty has accomplished will always be in Lord Voldemort’s name.
 
And truth be told… he’s just getting started.

-x-X-x-

Looking for something Original from me to read? Check out !

-x-X-x-

If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out  and  where I have over a thousand stories!

If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on 

Thanks for reading!