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Veela or Succubus ch.2
🕑 Added 2023-11-03 11:30:01 +0000 UTCHarry didn't know half of what she was talking about, and he didn't care. The way she said it, those sultry tones, her voice dripping with her own arousal... even though he had just climaxed, his cock didn't go soft. If anything, it was getting harder. "This is it. Show me. Take control." The girl crawled onto the bed, lowered her head onto the pillow, and then began to sway her hips back and forth, taunting him. "Show me you're a real man. Show me you have what it takes. Put me in my place... Master."
"Master...?" You're damn right," Harry felt like an entirely new person. Anxiety, uncertainty, and inhibitions were disappearing, and the beast inside him was taking over. He positioned himself behind her, gave her thick ass a firm spank with his left hand, and then grabbed it tightly, spreading it to reveal her pink ass and glistening, dripping pussy. With his right hand, he pushed two fingers deep inside her.
She was wet. He didn't know a woman could be this wet. Slippery, even hotter than her mouth, and tight. Oh, so tight. He gave her a few strong thrusts with his fingers that made her moan into the pillow, then pulled them out, gripping her ass firmly with both hands as he pressed his cock against her eager and waiting slit. "I'll make you scream."
He thrust his hips forward and, with one powerful motion, buried himself deep inside her. Her body not only yielded to him but drew him in. If her pleas from her lips were the best he'd ever had, her pussy was out of this world. Incredibly soft and responsive, her muscles teased his cock, driving him crazy with pleasure.
"Mmmf... yes, please, Master. Please... it feels so good." She began to press her plushy ass against him, milking his cock on her own. "I want everything you have. And if that's enough... Master, I'll be yours forever."
Forever? He liked the sound of that. Harry let himself go, losing himself in the haze of pleasure. At some point, he noticed the sunset, and he must have fallen asleep. His dreams were just as erotic. The woman was still there, but her skin had become shiny, bright red, with elegant curved horns that he liked to grab as he fucked her on the mattress. Her breasts were even larger, full of delicious milk that he greedily drank, and he also tugged on her slender, veiny tail hard enough to make her cum as he pounded her against the wall.
It was the best kind of dream.
In the morning, Harry woke up in hell. He was still in the same hotel room, still on the soft bed, but he had a splitting headache, his muscles were sore and weak, his mouth was completely dry, and his stomach was growling, demanding food.
Although the dreams from the previous night were good, he woke up more tired than he could remember. He was tempted to try to sleep it off, but he needed some water first before his throat cracked.
Harry got out of bed and went to the sink, filling a small plastic cup and then emptying it, repeating the steps four times, gulping down the water as if he were dying of thirst.
Water had never tasted so cold and refreshing, and he sighed with relief as his body woke up a bit more. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawned, and looked in the mirror.
He didn't recognize the man staring back at him.
Harry had a beer belly. This man had a six-pack. It was the smallest of them. His skin was intensely tanned, his hair dark, and his beard thick. His arms were powerful, and when he flexed, he could see veins in them. He was also taller, at least 6'5", and looking down, he saw no fat at all.
Looking down, he also saw his cock.
Harry had never been ashamed of his manhood. He had a solid seven inches and was quite thick. And now all seven inches lay flaccid, when they were supposed to be only two. It was a grower, not a shower, and if this was what it looked like, then it was not good.
"Oh God... did I break it? Strained a muscle or something..." Harry suppressed the rising panic and assessed his situation. It wasn't just his cock. His entire body had undergone a transformation. And if he looked at it objectively, everything seemed better. And that meant maybe his cock hadn't been permanently drained. Maybe this was just what it looked like now, flaccid. And if he had seven inches flaccid, he wondered how it would look when it got hard.
"But how...?" Harry returned to the bed. There was no sign of the mysterious woman, but on the other mattress lay a blood-red envelope. He sat at the edge of the bed, opened it, and took out the letter. The words were written in small, heart-filled handwriting and looked wet, as if written with a fresh quill and inkwell, not a pen.
Last night was amazing, Master. I think you really have what it takes to tame me. But I won't settle for just any mortal. There's one step left to complete our agreement. Sacrifice.
Don't worry; it's nothing bad. You just need to bring me a woman. I'll bind her soul and transform her into your slave, strengthening you even further and making me your slave too, permanently.
It's not too much to ask, is it? Master?
Your personal succubus, Gabrielle Delacour
Harry read the note two more times, trying to understand its meaning.
Sacrifice? Slave? Succubus? Delacour wasn't a Veela?!
It all sounded absurd, illegal, and likely to damn his soul to eternal hell. But the woman... Gabrielle... she was real. That dream was real. The changes in his body were real. Reading the letter, he believed every word of it.
It gave him a choice. First, he could forget about the letter. Walk away. Leave. Get back home as soon as possible. He didn't know if his new body would last, but he could enjoy it while it did and look back on this vacation as a funny, mysterious dream.
Or he could do it. Get the succubus for himself and another slave. No, not just one. Ginny. He could collar and tattoo her, turning her into a submissive bimbo devoted to his pleasure.
Harry's stomach rumbled again.
"No point in making a decision on an empty stomach." After a quick shower, he realized his clothing options were limited. Shirts still fit, although he could feel the short sleeves stretching over his new biceps, but pants were a different story. He ended up leaving the room in navy blue swim trunks and sandals. He wasn't sure he could seduce anyone in this outfit.
At least, that's what he thought.
On his way out of the room, Harry felt the eyes of others on him. Eyes full of appreciation. A woman walking with her husband and child turned around to get a better look at him. A cleaning lady threw him a bright "Good morning!" and a girlish giggle. A group of teenage girls begged him to take a picture of them, and to take a few with him in the frame to touch his muscles.... he felt one of them try to pinch his butt, and a cute blonde slipped him a piece of paper with her number on it as they walked away. "Maybe it won't be so hard after all." He reached the breakfast buffet and began loading up plates. Pancakes with syrup, scrambled and fried eggs, thick pieces of toast, crispy potato pancakes, lots of sausage and lots of bacon, sipping it with alternating glasses of milk and orange juice. Whatever Gabrielle did to him made his body hungry, he cleaned plate after plate, and his stomach seemed to have no bottom, until after half an hour he realized that although he still had an appetite, the hunger itself had calmed down. He was able to focus again.
He scanned the room. Now that his hunger was satisfied, he felt his libido rising again. He told himself that he was just looking for a little fun, that all this talk about succubi and slaves was just foolishness, and that he just wanted to find a nice girl to spend some time with. He didn't believe it for a second, but he kept telling himself that. There were several women he fancied, but one in particular caught his eye.
She had loose, shoulder-length red hair, freckles and bright green eyes, a typical Irish beauty; it seemed he had seen her somewhere, and she didn't recognize him. She was wearing a white knee-length sarong with a floral pattern and a simple black T-shirt. Despite this casual outfit, she seemed busy working on the laptop in front of her. And despite her preoccupation, she constantly stared at him while he ate. At one point he caught her licking her lips, and she blushed brightly as soon as he returned her gaze, staring intently at the screen.
She was lovely. Older and more mature than Gabrielle, not as curvy, but she had a flat stomach and a healthy C cup. A girl who just yesterday would have been completely out of his league.
Harry sat down across from her and rested his elbows on the table. "Hi. I'm Harry Potter. I was wondering if you could use some company today, Miss...?" Her eyes widened, and she swallowed before responding, "Susan. Susan Bones. Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter."
Her accent was thick and musical, refreshing like an Irish spring, yet sophisticated and mostly controlled. They had been together at Hogwarts, in the same year, but she had truly blossomed now. Harry hadn't expected to find anyone magical in the hotel, especially not from magical England, but there had to be something to this invitation here. She smiled at him, closing her laptop, nervously smoothing her sarong, and tucking her hands under the table for a brief moment. "What brings you here? Business or pleasure?"
Harry noticed that when she withdrew her pale hands from under the table, there was a faint tan line on her already pale skin, precisely on her ring finger.
Harry chuckled and looked her straight in the eyes. "Definitely pleasure. And a lot of it."
Harry walked side by side with Susan down the corridor. They were almost back to his room, but his arousal was already evident, a clear bulge visible in the front of his shorts. He could tell Susan was equally excited; the rosy blush on her pale, freckled cheeks gave it away. And the way she was breathing, those excited sighs she couldn't hide from him.
As he unlocked the door, he placed his hand on her backside, gently guiding her inside. "We're here. Time for some fun."
"You're bold. It's so hot in a man." Susan turned to him, nervously licking her lips. "I've always fantasized... but I've never done anything like this."
He grabbed her waist, pulling her close, then kissed her deeply and passionately. His tongue invaded her mouth, making her yield, so that when he pulled away, a thin line of saliva briefly connected them, and her eyes had a dazed, feverish look.
"You can believe me or not, but neither have I," he admitted. "But I don't think either of us should let that stop us." He chuckled, and his hand slipped down to her butt, giving it a playful squeeze.
"Oh God, you're such a good kisser. There were rumors at Hogwarts..." Susan sighed, her blush deepening by two shades, extending down to her neck and arms.
"Let me show you what else I'm amazing at," he boasted before he grabbed her sarong and tore it off her body. His eyebrows shot up when he saw that she was wearing black lace panties underneath. "Looks like I found a real slut."
He touched her through the thin fabric with his fingers and felt that she was already wet for him. "Good girl. I'm going to make you my damn whore."
