Tracey Davis, Suddenly and Forcefully

Fleur hums in satisfaction as the girl in her arms shivers and jerks back and forth, and she wraps her arms around the English witch a little tighter while she works. Her lips smother the other girl's own, drowning out her pathetic attempts to scream or moan with a relentless onslaught of soft, insistent, breath-stealing kisses. Her tongue has the whole of the girl's mouth at its mercy, effortlessly feinting and deflecting around her feeble attempts to resist as it probes and strokes every inch, swapping spit back and forth repeatedly until the spit filling their mouths belongs almost completely to the half-Veela.

What was her name, Fleur idly asks herself, tweaking a hard pink nipple between two fingers as her other hand kneads one of the girl's tight, bubbly asscheeks. Ah, oui, it's Tracey. A pretty name, she muses, at least for an Englishwoman. A pretty name for a pretty young woman, and one who is only getting prettier the longer Fleur has her way with her. She can feel the impurities of Tracey's body and mind being dragged out of her by the Kiss they were sharing; her physical imperfections, her insecurities, her... ugh, her disgusting heterosexuality, all being sucked away to feed the appetites of Fleur's inhuman ancestry.

When the pool she is drinking from runs dry, and Tracey's struggles stop being even slightly directed, Fleur breaks the kiss with a soft sigh and steps back from her latest target as she slumps back against the wall. The French witch can tell that the new Tracey is going to a heartbreaker par excellence, a woman who'd rip through every boy-girl relationship she comes across like a buzzsaw and leave a trail of turned women and hopelessly single men in her wake. Although, for the moment...

...she is still riding out the effects of receiving the full, body- and mind-warping effects of an unrestrained Veela's Kiss. Fleur doesn’t allow herself a chance to indulge in one often, given how obvious its results tended to be and how the effects on Beauxbatons girls tended to be rather less entertaining . It was a real treat to watch the once-pretty, now-gorgeous Tracey's eyes cross as she drools and spasms through a squirting orgasm despite not having her pussy touched during the whole ordeal, especially with her blouse open and pushed off her shoulders like this. A quick swish of Fleur's wand cleans up the two women and their surroundings as Tracey finally passes out, before the French witch spins on her heel and struts out of the abandoned classroom she'd pulled her prey into.