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Birthday Girl Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2025-07-01 03:51:50 +0000 UTC“Victoire?”
Harry’s baffled look confirmed to Victoire that he hadn’t been aware of the hiding presence behind the rock, only Gabrielle. If Victoire ran away now, would he think Gabi was crazy and let the whole thing end there?
The point of such thoughts was to give Victoire an “out” so that she could get away and pretend she wasn’t a pervert watching people close to her get intimate. However, the idea of actually leaving immediately left her sick to her stomach. Before she knew it she was walking.
Victoire had on a very pretty blue dress that her mother had picked out. It was Beaxubatons’ colors. She left her shoes behind the rock and walked barefoot over the sand. When she moved into sight she was unable to keep her eyes raised, averting them toward the ground and rubbing her elbow with her other hand.
“What the— Victoire’s really here?” Harry said. “How’d that happen?”
He tried to cover himself up with his hands, since he was still naked. Even his large hands, calloused from quidditch and used to catching so many snitches, couldn’t block the size of his penis. Just as when she saw it in the photograph she was now SURE Gabrielle had given her, Victoire experienced a primal urge to devour a phallus of such girth. It was like every drop of veela blood inside of her had caught fire and was screaming for her to listen.
“You might as well give up,” Gabrielle said. She sounded amused as she smiled at Harry. “Your hands aren’t doing much.”
Harry cleared his throat, looking aside and blushing. Before Victoire knew it, she was giggling. He was too cute.
“That’s the spirit, niece!” Gabrielle said.
She grabbed Victoire’s hand and pulled her down onto the sand. Before Victoire completely understood what was happening, she was kneeling on the sand, Gabrielle kneeling directly behind her, and in front of them…
Was Harry’s huge, erect, slobbery dick.
Victoire could SMELL it. She could see every single vein, even the small ones. She could feel her mind beginning to go completely blank as her lust grew unbearably.
“Gabrielle! You’re taking this joke too far!” Harry said. “Victoire wants to leave— unless… Seriously?”
Harry squinted at Victoire from behind his heavy glasses. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for. However, his expression quickly changed. He stopped looking irritated and embarrassed and instead shook his head.
“It’s really the same as you, isn’t it,” he said.
“Exactly the same,” Gabrielle said. “You have no idea how surprised I was when Victoire came to me and described the symptoms. Surprised and proud, of course.”
“What are the two of you talking about?” Victoire protested. “I don’t understand!”
Even as she spoke her nose was twitching as she sniffed and tried to absorb as much of Harry’s scent as possible.
“Victoire, sweety, you are part veela. A small part—only an eighth—but the blood runs in your veins,” Gabrielle said. “Obviously this is true, just look at you.”
Gabrielle’s hands moved around Victoire and grabbed her chest, giving her large tits a quick squeeze. Victoire moaned loudly. Her nipples were inflamed and it felt like her breasts were swollen, rendering them more sensitive than she had ever experienced. Each little squeeze Gabrielle performed made her cunt throb.
“Veela are not human, no matter how much they look like one,” Gabrielle said, continuing to play with and tweak Victoire’s body while offering her explanation. “Part veela like us retain many of their traits in lesser forms. Among these, there is one that is even more potent than all the rest. Many of our kind call it the Metamorphosis.”
“I am going to change into something!?” Victoire said.
Gabrielle’s musical laugh reached her ears. “You will not be meaningfully changed on the outside! It’s nothing to be afraid of. I went through it, and so did your mother. Even Grandmother was the same.”
Victoire recalled the conversation with Apolline back at the party. She was so mad that Gabrielle “sold her out” that she had stormed off here to look for her aunt. But if all the strange feelings Victoire had been experiencing were part of this Metamorphosis that all part veela went through, her grandmother had only been asking such questions because she knew it would be occurring soon.
Victoire made an effort to recall exactly what her grandmother had asked. The questions had been if Victoire had experienced any urges, yearnings, or obsessions, and Apolline guided the conversation to be about boys immediately after. So that meant the Metamorphosis was something to do with that.
“So all part veela experience the Metamorphosis—” Victoire said.
“True veela undergo a version as well,” Gabrielle said, “however for them it is the process of their magic settling, which allows them to imitate human form whenever they wish. Veela who have not matured are stuck with their more fiery and avian features visible.”
“But if it’s just about my magic settling, why have I been SO horny?” Victoire said before she could think better of it.
Harry developed a sudden cough. He had been trying to look away and not stare at the way one of the captivating blonds on their knees was fondling the stunning bust of the other one.
“The Metamorphosis is just a kind of magical puberty,” Gabrielle said. “For part veela such as us, that includes the awakening of our sex drive. We are typically quite uninterested in such things, until we reach a certain age and become OBSESSED. When that time comes, we tend to latch onto the first one we are truly attracted to. We will do ANYTHING to make him ours.”
She smirked at Victoire, who immediately understood that for her, that had been Harry. Age gap be damned, he was far too hot and confident for her not to see him that way. She would do whatever it took to feel him wreck her. If she let the chance slip… she’d rather die than even think about it.
This was that chance, wasn’t it?
She looked at Harry’s dick. It was right in front of her. At first it had seemed like he was going to shy away, but instead he had waited patiently even while Gabrielle gave a decently lengthy explanation of veela maturation. He was still utterly hard… which probably wasn’t a surprise with two part veela kneeling for him. Even clothed, their sinful figures made for fucking stood out like beacons.
What was it that convinced Harry to stay again? He’d been trying to send Victoire back, then stopped because Gabrielle said that Victoire was the… same… as… her…
“You went after Harry after your Metamorphosis!” Victoire shouted.
Harry cleared his throat again. Gabrielle giggled.
“Can you blame me, little Victoire?” Gabrielle paused to stroke Victoire’s extra sensitive boobs, eliciting more moans. “My nickname for you is very outdated now; I need a new one. But about Harry… He risked his life to pull me from a freezing lake when Fleur could not. That was our first meeting! I had heard about him, and he sounded like the ultimate storybook hero. Then we met, and he behaved like one too. Plus, he was SO cute, even back then. As soon as the Metamorphosis hit it was never going to be anyone else. That he was YOUR obsession is more surprising. Only a little, though. He’s a true hunk.”
“I’m standing right here,” Harry mumbled.
“He’s weak to compliments, Victoire,” Gabrielle said. “Despite how amazing he is, he doesn’t like it when you tell him, so you have to show him your appreciation in different ways. Why don’t you give it a try?”
Victoire just KNEW what she meant. Gabrielle was giving the green light to let go, and acknowledge her desires. Before she knew it, Victoire was leaning forward, her tongue extending from her lips.
She licked from the bottom of that huge shaft all the way up to the top, marveling at how long it took to go from one end to the other. It was still settling in: this was Harry’s taste! She looked up at him and met his green eyes as her bright pink tongue got to his swollen tip.
She stopped there, leaving her tongue on him, unsure what to do next. She just watched Gabrielle do this, maybe she could mimic that… but surely it was harder than it looked? What if she upset Harry?
Victoire moaned. She lurched forward and ended up kissing Harry’s dick because her nipples had been pinched, making her body shake. Gabrielle was groping her again.
“Oh sweet, beautiful Victoire. Don’t panic,” Gabrielle said. “Your aunt will guide you. Now relax your throat.”
Gabrielle’s hands moved from Victoire’s chest up to her head. She tilted Victoire’s beautiful face down, easing Harry’s dick into her mouth.
“Your body is made for this,” Gabrielle said. “You have nothing to fear. Leave your throat relaxed and you will see what you are truly capable of.”
Victoire listened. It was scary, as if an entire staff was being inserted into her throat. But she relaxed as Gabrielle instructed. It was hard and tears appeared in the corner of her eyes. Just as Victoire was wondering if she had it in her to go any further, Harry groaned.
He felt good. He was experiencing pleasure. Because of HER. Just like that, Victoire finally understood that she was sucking Harry Potter off, and her head cleared. Who cared if she couldn’t breathe? She’d gladly suffocate until she passed out if it gave him a single second of pleasure.”
“Such a good girl,” Gabrielle said. Victoire was about three fourths of the way down Harry’s shaft now. “You have such potential. Can you see his face?”
Victoire’s eyes briefly looked up, catching a glimpse of Harry’s face. He was grimacing with pleasure as his dick disappeared inside of her tight and wet throat. He placed a hand on top of her head the way he’d done when she was young; a gesture he likely didn’t consciously even recognize. Victoire damn near came on the spot.
“Move your tongue,” Gabrielle whispered. “He loves to feel that.”
Victoire swished her tongue side to side, spreading her slobber across the shaft that was stretching her mouth open. She was still sinking lower. Her neck had to be bulging. Could Gabrielle see it? The outline of Harry’s meat inside Victoire’s neck? The mere thought made Victoire’s pussy twitch.
“One last push,” Gabrielle urged. “You are such a strong girl. I know that you can handle it.”
She gave her niece a push. Just like that, Victoire found herself kissing Harry’s hairy crotch.
His pubic hair was tickling her nose while his cockhead tickled her esophagus. Victoire wondered if what lay behind her mouth would ever be shaped the same again, or if part of it would forever have Harry’s shape like a plaster impression of his dick. Tears were dripping from the corners of her eyes, but Victoire wouldn’t pull back and abandon her new purpose for anything in the world.
“I knew you would do well,” Gabrielle purred. “As soon as you confessed to your urges, I was reminded of myself. I was just like this, using my throat before I had the skill to properly milk a man. But I suppose you know that. I showed you how I was back then.”
“You mean the recording?” Harry yelped. “You gave it to Victoire?”
“Don’t scold me,” Gabrielle said. “It was mine to do with as I pleased. And it’s CERTAINLY worked out well for you.”
Gabrielle ran her fingers through Victoire’s pleated platinum blond hair, which had been styled so prettily for her party. Everyone was still up there on the other side of the cliffs, celebrating a birthday girl who had snuck away to pleasure a man. Although that thought should have created guilt, Victoire felt nothing but pleasure. This was everything she’d dreamed of.
The feelings that had been plaguing her, the symptoms of this “Metamorphosis” Gabrielle explained, exploded in intensity. Victoire effectively lost her mind. As Gabrielle stroked her hair and Harry’s hand sat gently on top of Victoire’s head, nobody was actually holding her head in position. She placed her hands on Harry’s hips and pushed her head back.
“Giving up?” Gabrielle said, unable to keep from sounding disappointed. “You did well enough for your first time. Here, I will help you get him to cum— Oh my!”
Victoire only pushed herself back until Harry’s tip was resting just inside of her lips. Once she got there, she reversed her momentum and slammed herself all the way to his shaft, this time doing it in an instant. She did it over, and over, and over…
“Ulk! Ulk! Ulk!”
Victoire relentlessly impaled herself on Harry. As she went she looked up at him, staring into his eyes. If he’d used legilimency on her then, she could’ve transmitted her thoughts: I belong to you, I exist for you, use me. As she deepthroated him she retained the willpower to wiggle her tongue sluttily inside of her mouth, slobbering against the base of the nob she was devotedly choking on.
Gabrielle was so turned on by what she saw that she pinched Victoire’s nipples forcefully and sent lances of pleasure throughout Victoire’s body. Gabrielle’s groping even skewed the birthday girl’s dress and accidentally pulled it down slightly, along with the bra underneath. More cleavage than intended was bared, with even a glimpse of her left areola. All that cleavage acted like a net to catch the spit dripping off of Victoire’s face. Tears stripped off her elaborate makeup for the special event, which made Victoire proud. Each tear she shed felt like a declaration of her devotion.
“Victoire…” Harry moaned.
This was it. He had said her name like he was addressing a woman for the very first time, not a mere girl. Victoire’s life was complete. When Harry’s hand slipped down to the back of her head and held her against his base, she felt nothing but intense pride.
Even while Harry held her down, she slid her tongue along his base. Harry’s orgasm was coming. His balls tightened against her chin, his dick bulged as semen raced through, his tip became engorged, and then Victoire drowned.
There was no other word for it. Cum poured into her. It was like warm soup broth had skipped her mouth and been injected straight to her stomach. Some got into her nose, and some came back up to her mouth. It tasted salty. Trace amounts of semen leaked past her lips and joined her spit, dripping down onto her large breasts. Harry’s hand tightened on her hair and pulled her back, dragging her off of his dick as the last of his orgasm dripped out, dropping small white drops onto the sand.
“I could have stayed there longer,” Victoire said, a goofy smile on her lips despite her ruined appearance.
“Well, you could’ve, but you would have passed out,” Harry said. “Believe me, I’ve seen Delacour women knock themselves out when they get worked up, so it’s really possible.”
“Guilty as charged,” Gabrielle purred. “And I would’ve done it again if you let me.”
“You all and your shows of devotion,” Harry said ruefully. “I appreciate the intent, but I can’t have you passing out before the main event.”
Main event. The words thundered through Victoire’s psyche. She said: “You mean—”
“That Harry is going to fuck you?” Gabrielle said. “My dear, he isn’t just going to do that. ‘E’s going fuck ze everliving ZHIT out of zou!”
She was so excited that her French accent, something Victoire hadn’t heard from her in years, leaked out in full force. She looked at Harry’s dick looming in front of her, soaked with spit and makeup, still thick and hard and ready to pound a tight little virgin pussy: hers.
This was going to be the best day of her goddamn life.
