A/N; So many things that should be tagged. This is not for the faint of heart. Rated M for a reason proceed with caution. A big Thank you to my bestie across the pond Lioness_Snake or DutchScorRosefan on FFN for all of her contributions. Go check out her stories.
Brand New Girl
Chapter One
Silk stockings felt divine sliding over skin that wasn't his. A soft pink tongue slid between plump lips. Barty smiled at his reflection in the mirror, manicured hands caressed ample breasts, red nails tweaked at the hardened nipples, and he moaned softly. If he had his cock, it would be hard. Instead, he felt a dampness between his legs, clenching, quivering, the temptation too great, he slipped the long slender fingers into the damp folds and trembled. He could spend days pleasuring this body. But Barty had other plans.
Poor little muggle, Olivia never knew the danger she was in when she brought Barty home from the pub.
Like the viper he was, he struck without warning, and now pretty, sweet, naïve Olivia lay trussed like a Christmas goose in the corner of the room. Pissing herself when Barty peeled a piece of her cheek from her face. Gagging on saliva and blood, he feared she would drown herself. He didn't mean to take such a large piece, but she thrashed while he made the last cut. Stupid muggle. A stupid, silly muggle with a beautiful body and Barty had every intention of using it all up.
Instead of hair, Barty used flesh, and the transformation was profound. He could feel it pulsing through his blood, threading all the way down to the bone.
With the rise of the Dark Lord, Barty slipped the collar of the Ministry. Free to experiment with poly juice, with dark magic encouraged among the followers. Barty took full advantage. In the past, he limited his subjects to wizards. This, however, a first for him, a muggle and a woman at that. The plan whirling around his brain hinged much on him, retaining his magic, and he was happy to find he still had it. Using her flesh was risky, as with all blood magic. There would be a price to pay, and that was still yet to be determined.
First, the stockings, the feel of that sent shivers up his spine, then came the bone corset laced tight. Loving the feel of breasts spilling over the tops of the lace. He glanced over at the black silk thong knickers and decided to leave them. Now he needed something sexy. He strolled to her walk-in closet. Hanging in the front, just what he was looking for, red, silk, and barely there. It was sure to cling in all the right places. He slid it over long dark curls, glancing in her direction, "How do I look, darling?"
The crumpled flower in the corner answered with a muffled scream. Struggling against the thick black ropes that bound her. Olivia's pale skin glowed in contrast to blood crusted on her cheek, where Barty took his sacrifice. Just a small chunk, exposing her teeth, leaving her with a ghastly grin. The silk scarf in her mouth had stifled the screams, pink-tinged drool ran down her chin. Her hair matted down, black makeup ringed her eyes, streaking down her tear-stained face.
"You're so right, my little Poppet, I'm missing my lippy. Red? Do you agree?" The voice felt obscene, course, and foreign. He would need to work on it before leaving for the evening, "Oh, and heels. Black, of course." He found the tall strappy pair, the ones that made her ass look amazing. Barty took a few tentative steps, heels were tricky. He tried a charm to stabilize for now, but he would need to learn to walk in them for this plan to work.
Barty leaned over her vanity, carefully applying a vibrant, dark red to the full lips. Always observant of the women in his life, watching every little thing. Picking up their mannerisms, how they applied the makeup to their eyes, and the rouge to their cheeks. Now he stood before the full-length mirror with smoky eyes. Admiring the body, he possessed. This was not the standard Ministry approved poly juiced body. It felt like so much more. The voice, however, wasn't quite right, and there was still something in the eyes. Barty's tongue darted over his lips – the nervous tick. That needed to go. He pulled the dropper from a small glass bottle and let two drops fall to his tongue.
" Mmmmm, now that's better," Barty rolled his neck, stretched and ran his fingers through the long dark curls, "Oooooo, much, much better, don't you think so?" Olivia's voice rang like a silver bell, soft and sweet. The transformation complete. He felt confident now with a test run.
The red dress hit just above the knee with a slit clear up to the hip, strapless and clung to Barty's new curves. He strapped his wand to his thigh and couldn't resist the urge to trail his fingers along the bare slit between his legs. Barty groaned. There was no time for pleasuring himself. Someone else was going to do it for him. He picked up Olivia's clutch, dabbed a bit of perfume on the slender wrists before transfiguring a muggle coat into a suitable cloak.
Barty was a brand new girl, and he was hitting Knockturn Ally. What better way to test out his new body than on his fellow Death Eaters.
ooOoo
Barty's heels clicked on the cobblestones as he made his way into the Green Worm. All eyes turned when he entered. Luck on his side, Antonin Dolohov and the Lestrange brothers all perched on bar stools knocking back fire whiskey and all appeared well into their cups. He set his sights on Antonin. He wouldn't take things too far, just some innocent flirting. Anything else would be a death sentence. Then again, Antonin fucked a girlfriend of his. One he was engaged to, maybe this was a way he could get back at him. Nor would he mind fucking with Rabastan, the entitled little shit. Always the favorite picked for only the best missions. He was definitely fucking with Rabastan.
Barty stopped at the door and pulled off his cloak, catching his reflection in the mirror. Olivia stared back with nothing left of Barty but his magic.
Blood demanded a price.
The Green Worm buzzed with activity, busy for a Thursday night, and the Death Eaters were spread out across the pub. Antonin and Rabastan positioned themselves at the corner of the bar, facing the entrance. Rabastan downed what was left of his drink when he caught sight of a stunning witch coming through the door, "Mmmm. Fuck me!" Rabastan gritted his teeth.
"You don't say." Antonin slowly turned around, a soft whistle issued from his lips. Mesmerized by the woman at the door taking her cloak off. Dark red pouty lips, strapless dress. A great set of tits, just enough jiggle as she moved towards him. Dress demurely above her knee, no wait for it, a slit up to mid-thigh revealing her lace topped stockings. "That, mate, is mine."
Rabastan grinned wolfishly. "Bullshite, I saw her first. Only I'm not a cunt. My parents taught me properly, and I know how to share," He nudged at Antonin, hoping his friend would share, "You know we could peel that dress away and have her between us. I bet you that pussy tastes like strawberries. You can take her cunt, but I want her arse. That arse mate is the most spectacular fucking arse I've ever seen,"
Antonin made eye contact with the gorgeous brunette he didn't like to share. He would, though, because he was polite. This wouldn't be the first witch they enjoyed together, and although Antonin preferred witches, he didn't mind Rabastan in his bed, "I'll share her, at least this one time."
"We can give her a night she would never forget, she won't know what hit her. I want to fuck those titties, give her pearl necklace across those bouncy tits. I wonder if she'd let us tie her up? She would look marvelous trussed up and covered in our cum…. Shite here she comes."
New Olivia straightened her dress and turned around. She knew she was stunning, knew the Death Eaters at the bar had set their sights on her the moment the cloak came off. She caught her bottom lip in her teeth and strolled with confidence toward her target. The tip of her wand peeking out from under her dress. Perfect tits were spilling out the red dress. Antonin's attention now solely on her. She stopped and stood next to Antonin, looked him up and down. Turned to the Bartender with a coy smile, "What are we drinking tonight, gentlemen?"
As predicted, Antonin swept in, his hand going to the small of her back. Rabastan on her other side. Deep inside, Barty was smirking. On the outside, Olivia batted her eyes and all but purred, surprised at the dampness growing between her thighs. Barty hadn't counted on this kind of a response to Antonin's touch.
"You're new around here," Antonin's breath on her ear sent a shiver down her spine. His scent brought memories of a dark forest, rain, and smoke. Forbidden thoughts filled Barty's head, and the dangerous game began.
"Yes, I'm Barty's cousin, Olivia. He asked me to meet him here." She glanced around the room, feigning confusion. That sealed the deal. Both Death Eaters smirked at the mention of Barty's name. Any time they could make him out to be a fool, they jumped at the chance, and an opportunity to defile his cousin was not to be passed up.
"Hello, Olivia," Rabastan's smile was all too disarming.
"Sorry, luv, Barty can be a bit flighty sometimes. I'm Antonin, and my mate here is Rabastan. May I buy you a drink?"
Rabastan twirled a strand of Olivia's hair between his fingers, "Kind of a rough crowd in here. You can sit with us Poppet. We're best mates of your cousin Barty, and we'll take good care of you."
"Oh, that would be lovely. I'll have a Firewhiskey." Barty kept his voice breathy and soft, "Barty mentioned both of you, I'm sure to be in good hands. Can we get a table, I feel so vulnerable out here in the open," Said the spider to the fly thought Barty. They were falling right into his web.
Olivia looped her arms through each of theirs and let them steer her towards a dark corner. This was going to be fun. She slid into the round corner booth after Rabastan, "You're both so delicious, I can't believe Barty kept me from the two of you."
"Tell me, Poppet, where have you been hiding?" Antonin ran a hand up her thigh, toying with the lacy edge of her stockings.
Barty's head spun, as panic set in. Heart beating in his chest like a trapped bird.
This was not supposed to happen. Polyjuice did not work this way. The body should still be his, just look like hers. But this body was hers, and he was trapped inside. At the mercy of Olivia's lust. This would be the price of a complete transformation.
For now, he would embrace it, enjoy the ride as they say. Olivia reached for the glass the barmaid brought over. Sipping at the amber liquid, "I've been in the States, my parents moved there when I was a child." Rabastan brought her hand to his lips, trailing light kisses against her knuckles, "Are you always this forward with the witches you meet?"
"I'm so sorry, Poppet, please forgive me," Rabastan kissed at the tips of her fingers, "Your beauty has bewitched me." The tip of his tongue teased the end of her finger. She felt the wooden bench beneath her grew damp, and her nipples hardened. Olivia's body hungered to taste Rabastan's mouth. Barty fought that urge. He needed a little more time. He wanted them to have a scrap of respect for her. She giggled and pulled her hand away, dropping it to his lap and teasing the inside of his thigh, "Rabastan, you're a bad boy."
"Do you like bad boys, Poppet?" His hand dropped to hers, and he pulled it toward the bulge in his trousers. Olivia stroked her thumb over his cock.
Barty was appalled and intrigued at the same time. This entire situation was proving to be a disaster. He had never been interested in blokes before. But right now, he wanted very much for Antonin to plunge his fingers into Olivia's wet pussy. As he stroked Rabastan's growing bulge, he fought with the urge to pull it out and suck him dry. Barty hated these two men. Olivia wanted to fuck both until she passed out. He was well aware that Olivia, the real Olivia, was a crazy bint. A wanton slag that fucked him in the women's loo before bringing him home. Barty held no respect for the women as far as he was concerned, this body belonged to him, and he would do with it what he wanted.
"I love bad boys," Olivia leaned over and pressed her lips to Antonin's. The dark Russian moaned into her mouth, tongue sweeping to tangle with hers. She broke the kiss as his fingers slid up her thigh and pressed against her clit, giving her a little tickle. Barty's vision blurred as Antonin slid his fingers deep into her cunt, thumb doing circles on that hard nub. It was Rabastan's turn to capture her mouth, her toes curling in the high heels.
"Then you're a fortunate girl Olivia," Antonin's fingers left her greedy cunt. Dripping, he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean, "You've found two very bad boys, and you were right, Bast. Strawberries."
Olivia pulled away from Rabastan, dragging her long nails through his hair. At the same time, he peppered kisses along her neck and collarbone. She reached for her drink, sitting forward, "Gentleman, things are progressing a little too quickly for my taste. As lovely as it is, could we maybe slow it down a bit?"
"Sure thing Poppet," Rabastan signaled for the barmaid, "Another round luv." Chewing on his lip and trying not to show his frustration. He was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it.
Both men sat back as the drinks arrived. Antonin keeping one arm draped over her shoulders. Rabastan rested a hand on her thigh. Inside Barty smiled, his plan would work, and old Mad-Eye would never see it coming.