The Great Hall of Hogwarts had been temporarily transformed into an examination room. The four long house tables had been removed, replaced by rows of independent, single desks spaced far apart to prevent any form of cheating.
A tense atmosphere permeated the air. The only sounds were the scratching of quills on parchment and the occasional faint sighs of students deep in thought.
Jerry sat at a desk near the window. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass, casting mottled light and shadows on the parchment before him.
He was focused entirely on answering the final essay question of the Transfiguration theory exam. The topic was on maintaining the delicate balance between human consciousness and animal instinct during an advanced Animagus transformation.
Truthfully, placing such a question on a first-year final exam was already somewhat beyond the standard syllabus.
But while this might be a brain-racking puzzle for others, to Jerry, it was a piece of cake.
Jerry's quill flowed smoothly across the paper, the ink clear and neat.
However, just as he was about to complete the final sentence of his argument, a clear, steady female voice, carrying a strange magnetism, sounded directly deep within his mind without warning.
[What were you talking about with the new 'Professor Hess' a little while ago?]
The voice was like the most exquisite wordless spell, bypassing all the students and projecting precisely into Jerry's consciousness.
The hand holding the quill paused abruptly. He looked up, his sharp gaze instantly crossing over dozens of students buried in their studies, landing precisely on the invigilator's podium at the very front of the examination room.
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and the head Professor of Transfiguration, was sitting upright in a high-backed chair.
Her attire today was impeccable, as rigorous and dignified as always.
A dark green wizard's robe completely concealed her mature curves, the collar buttoned meticulously. Her silver-gray hair was gathered into an elegant bun at the back of her head without a single strand out of place. She wore square-rimmed glasses, her sharp eyes scanning the entire examination room as if no small movement could escape her notice.
On the surface, she was the most standard, strict, and impartial invigilator.
Jerry was slightly startled for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure and looked back down to continue writing on his parchment. Only this time, his consciousness was engaging in a silent conversation with the dignified professor.
[You know her identity?] Jerry's "voice" was calm and certain, without a trace of doubt.
Professor McGonagall's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly behind her square glasses. She maintained her invigilator's posture, but Jerry could clearly "see" her rolling her eyes dramatically in his mind. That demeanor—in stark contrast to her current rigid and serious exterior—carried a highly private laziness and charm that only the two of them could share.
[Right now, besides me, only Aurora knows.] McGonagall's voice sounded again, carrying a hint of teasing and an imperceptible intimacy. [I have to say, these gods from the Olympic Pantheon really have a knack for disguise.
If Aurora hadn't informed me in advance, I probably would have been fooled by Her Majesty the 'Queen' too.]
In her words, she deliberately emphasized the word "Queen," carrying a subtle sense of mockery, as if reminding Jerry just how absurd and taboo their relationship was.
Jerry didn't respond to the teasing. He merely put down his quill, pretending to review his exam paper, and then raised his head again, his gaze meeting McGonagall's from afar once more.
The moment he looked up, a stunning and extremely erotic image—visible only to him—appeared.
Professor McGonagall seemed to have anticipated he would look up.
Her crossed legs, originally completely hidden by her wizard's robes, slowly extended a small section from the shadows of the hemline without a sound.
It was not a bare leg.
A pair of long, beautiful legs perfectly encased in top-tier black silk stockings emerged from the shadows of the robe.
The material of the stockings was as thin as cicada wings, fitting tightly against her mature and elastic leg curves. From her slender ankles to her rounded calves, and further up, disappearing into a deeper darkness.
The black was so pure, making her naturally fair skin appear even more dazzling, carrying a contradictory beauty interwoven with asceticism and debauchery.
And on those slender, silk-clad toes, she wore a pair of exquisite black stiletto heels. The heels were sharp and towering like a queen's scepter, making her entire aura appear even more powerful and oppressive.
The smooth leather of the vamp reflected a faint light, complementing the semi-transparent black silk, forming an image enough to make any man's blood boil.
This sexiness—carefully prepared and displayed for him alone—appeared exceptionally stimulating in the solemn and respectful environment of the examination room.
McGonagall's leg was exposed for only a brief moment. After confirming Jerry had seen it, she silently withdrew it back into the shadows of the robe, as if nothing had happened.
Her face still wore that rigid and serious expression. Her sharp gaze even lingered for a moment on a student trying to peek at a neighbor's desk, as a warning.
But her voice, carrying an unsuppressable amusement and provocation, rang in Jerry's mind once more.
[What, mesmerized by that woman, Hera? Or perhaps...]
Her voice paused, becoming lower and more alluring. [You prefer this kind of... surprise hidden beneath my robes?]
[My appetite is excellent.]
Jerry's thought was like the coldest spring water—clear and direct. He didn't even use words like "I like that too," but responded to McGonagall's provocation starkly, with a tone bordering on greed.
Jerry's gaze continued to look straight ahead, but deep in his eyes burned a flame like a starving wolf's, one that did not belong to a young boy.
His fingers tapped gently on the edge of the answer sheet; the rhythm was exactly the same as the surging desire currently in his heart.
Jerry ignored the difference in status between Hera and McGonagall, treating them both as meals on his plate.
McGonagall clearly felt the undisguised possessiveness in Jerry's words. She gave a soft hmph in his mind, the sound carrying the coquettishness of being offended, yet laced with unmaskable pleasure.
[You talk a big game, brat.]
Her voice echoed in Jerry's mind, lazy and full of allure. [Aren't you afraid of choking yourself to death?]
As she spoke, Jerry raised his left hand, pretending to massage a tired wrist. Then, inconspicuously, he opened his palm. In the center of it, a delicate, small golden wheat ear tattoo shimmered faintly under the sunlight. This was a highly private signal visible only to him and McGonagall.
[Well, I have you watching over me, Professor McGonagall. If I really do choke to death, you wouldn't just stand by and watch me die, would you?]
Jerry's voice carried a hint of playfulness, as if he were acting spoiled, yet also issuing a threat.
As he spoke, he recounted the details of his deal with Aurora in his mind to McGonagall, like telling a story.
McGonagall's breathing became rapid, and an unnatural flush appeared on her cheeks. In her mind, she let out an angry reprimand, almost exasperated: [You brat! This kind of thing... how could you...]
However, Jerry didn't give her a chance to continue scolding. Instead, he displayed the wheat ear tattoo on his palm more clearly.
[This was a gift from Hera. She said it's the mark of the Goddess of Harvest, and it can unconditionally die in my place once.]
Jerry's voice carried a hint of showing off. [Tell me, doesn't this mean I have two lives?]
McGonagall was rendered temporarily speechless by Jerry's sudden rogue-like behavior. She rolled her eyes dramatically in her mind again, her look filled with the helplessness of dealing with someone incorrigible.
[Don't be fooled by that old woman!]
McGonagall's voice carried an anxiousness of wishing he would do better. [Gifts from gods like that usually carry deadly curses!
Why don't you know how to be a little more cautious!]
[Of course I know.] Jerry's voice now regained that composure unbefitting his age. [I'm not that easy to fool.] A confident arc curled at the corner of his mouth, a sly light flashing deep in his eyes.
[Speaking of which, I only have a few minutes left before I turn in my paper.]
Jerry's voice became frivolous again. [How about, after I turn in my paper, I let you inspect it personally?
Aren't you a master of Transfiguration?
You can help me see if there are any hidden tricks in this mark.]
As he spoke, he even gently waved his palm toward McGonagall. The wheat ear tattoo danced like a golden flame in the sunlight, full of temptation.
McGonagall's breathing became rapid once again.
Her long legs subconsciously crossed again, as if she wanted to use this to conceal the strange sensation deep within her body caused by Jerry's teasing.
McGonagall shifted into a deeper leg-crossing posture. Because of this movement, the dark green wizard's robe was lifted high at one corner.
This time, she exposed more than just those long, beautiful legs wrapped in black silk and the exquisite stiletto heels.
A flash of pure white, like a cherry blossom blooming in the snow, quietly blossomed from that deep darkness.
It was a pair of white lace panties printed with a cute bear pattern, tightly wrapping her mature and voluptuous body. Set against the black silk, they appeared exceptionally pure yet lewd, filled with extreme contrast and temptation.
That white was so dazzling it almost burned Jerry's eyes.
This fleeting glimpse lasted only a brief moment. McGonagall seemed to realize her loss of composure as well. she quickly pulled the robe back down, restoring her dignified posture. But the tips of her ears, red to the point of bleeding, completely betrayed the panic in her heart at this moment.
[No time!] Her voice carried the hurriedness of being angry out of shame. [I have to go to the Ministry of Magic this afternoon to attend an emergency meeting.]
A trace of imperceptible disappointment flashed in Jerry's eyes, but he quickly adjusted his mindset; that disappointment was fleeting.
However, he was even more curious about what could cause a meeting urgent enough to make Professor McGonagall feel it was an emergency.
[What happened?
Why another meeting?]
Jerry's voice was full of confusion.
Although Jerry had known for a long time that those lords at the Ministry of Magic had nothing to do every day, he hadn't expected these guys to be this idle.
Having meetings every day, didn't they get tired?
McGonagall also seemed to realize that her reaction just now was a bit too intense.
McGonagall took a deep breath to calm her violently beating heart. Then, she shifted into a more comfortable sitting position again.
This time, she seemed to have completely let go. Her long, beautiful legs extended openly from beneath the robe, crossed over each other, and rested on the invigilator's podium in a lazy and seductive posture.
Those beautiful legs wrapped in black silk shimmered with an alluring luster under the sunlight. And those exquisite stiletto heels swayed gently in the air like two black butterflies dancing, full of fatal attraction.
McGonagall rolled her eyes again. That look carried a thick, almost tangible resentment. [It's all because of the trouble you caused.]
Her voice carried a hint of resignation. [Now, the wizarding world and the Olympic world are officially at war.
Although it's only small-scale skirmishes on the front lines, you know how massive the underlying impact is.]
Her high heel drew a graceful arc in the air. The toe of the shoe, unconsciously, hooked gently toward Jerry, as if issuing some silent invitation.
[Aside from that, there is another matter.] McGonagall's voice paused. She looked at Jerry's still-youthful face that exuded a maturity beyond his years, a complex smile flashing in her eyes.
[Fudge...] Her voice became brisk, carrying a hint of schadenfreude as if watching a good show. [After confirming that Amelia is truly pregnant, and that the fetus is a boy, Fudge was so happy he almost tore the entire Ministry of Magic apart.]
At this point, Professor McGonagall couldn't help but chuckle softly. The laugh was as crisp as a silver bell, full of moving charm.
She watched the smile in her eyes deepen as Jerry frowned slightly upon hearing the news.
[He not only reinstated Amelia to her position as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement but also granted her unprecedentedly massive authority.]
McGonagall's gaze swept back and forth gently and meaningfully over Jerry's handsome face.
[And our Director Amelia, the moment she obtained these powers, immediately proposed a motion.
A motion... to vent some anger for you.]
Professor McGonagall paused deliberately here. Watching the flash of curious light in Jerry's deep eyes, the smile at the corners of her mouth became increasingly playful.
[She proposed to completely reform the entire Hogwarts Board of Governors.]
McGonagall's voice carried an unquestionable certainty. [Those old geezers who once tried to trip you up and kick you out of Hogwarts are now... probably going to have trouble sleeping.]
As soon as her voice faded, those beautiful legs resting on the invigilator's podium swayed gently again. The tip of that black high heel, carrying an undeniable hint of provocation, hooked gently yet forcefully toward Jerry once more.
Her deep eyes were now staring at Jerry's youthful yet profound face with a hint of playfulness and mockery.
[Will that old thing, Dumbledore, agree to this?]
Jerry's voice had now completely regained that coldness and dominance unbefitting his age.
He had no scruples about using the term "old thing," as if he were facing not the revered White Wizard of the wizarding world, but an ordinary mortal.
McGonagall laughed softly. The laugh was as crisp as a silver bell, yet also carried an aloof indifference that saw through everything.
Her long, beautiful legs wrapped in black silk remained openly resting on the invigilator's podium. The stiletto heels swayed in the air, as if silently responding to Jerry's questioning.
[Whether he agrees or not, he has to agree.]
McGonagall's voice carried undeniable certainty. [Hogwarts isn't run by him alone.] She paused, her long, slender fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest of the chair.
[The Ministry of Magic holds the majority on the Hogwarts Board of Governors.]
McGonagall's voice became lower now, carrying an allure of explaining inside information. [Dumbledore does indeed have the voting power of three votes. In the past, whenever the Ministry didn't participate in voting, those three votes of his were always able to play a crucial role at critical moments.] Professor McGonagall spoke with a hint of disdain in her tone, as if mocking that Dumbledore's power was not unassailable.
Her long legs swayed gently again, the sharp curve of the shoe tip tracing a heart-stopping trajectory.
[But things are different now.] McGonagall's voice, like cold spring water, instantly became serious. [With the official start of the war between us and the Olympic world, this slow method of training wizards seems somewhat inadequate.]
McGonagall's words undisguisedly revealed her concern about the war and her dissatisfaction with the current efficiency of cultivating talent in the wizarding world.
That concern and dissatisfaction formed a sharp contrast with her lazy and seductive posture at this moment.
As she spoke, Professor McGonagall's movements became bolder and more unbridled. Her heel, silently, slipped out of that exquisite stiletto, leaving only her smooth toes gently pressing against the inside of the high heel.
Then, that foot, now free from the heel, swayed slowly and incessantly back and forth in the air with a lazy and highly seductive posture.
That smooth foot, wrapped in black silk, showed exquisite curves. The toes curled slightly, carrying a sexy and private temptation.
It was as if silently showing Jerry a secret foot-teasing meant for him alone. That swaying carried a casualness and looseness, yet was filled with ultimate provocation and enticement, as if silently inviting Jerry to explore the more hidden and alluring world wrapped beneath that black silk.
[Furthermore!] McGonagall's voice sounded again, carrying a hint of deep plotting. [War consumes not only resources but also people's hearts.
We need to train more and more powerful wizards faster, but Hogwarts' gentle teaching methods are no longer suited for the current situation.]
[Therefore, the Ministry needs more power to guide the direction of Hogwarts' teaching, rather than letting an old bag of bones cling to his outdated educational philosophy.] McGonagall's voice carried an undisguised questioning of Dumbledore and a concern for the future of the wizarding world.
McGonagall's swaying foot lifted slightly upward now, revealing the slender ankle wrapped in black silk, and the faintly visible anklet on that ankle, which appeared even fairer against the black silk. The anklet made an almost inaudible soft sound as the foot swayed, carrying a hidden temptation.
[Changing the structure of the Board of Governors is only the first step.] McGonagall's voice became even lower and more bewitching now. [Next, there will be more and more radical reforms to completely turn Hogwarts into a wizard factory serving the war.]
McGonagall's foot pressed down now. Those smooth toes once again pressed against the inside of the high heel, rubbing back and forth inside the shoe gently and with extreme provocation.
That friction carried a hidden sexiness and a silent invitation to Jerry, as if waiting for him to personally explore the deeper secrets hidden beneath the robes.
Jerry's gaze kept following McGonagall's foot swaying in the black silk.
He licked the corner of his mouth gently, a predatory light flashing in his eyes.
No one could see.
The other students in the examination room were still buried in their studies, quills scratching on parchment, immersed in the complex theories of Transfiguration.
McGonagall's powerful magical barrier seemed to isolate the invigilator's podium area from the entire examination room, completely hiding their private interaction.
Jerry's left hand, placed under the desk, had already reached into his school trousers without concealment.
His small body was hidden by the loose school uniform, but that palm had firmly grasped his own meat-root, which had grown to a shocking size, erected again by McGonagall's teasing. He began to stroke rhythmically and slowly. The movement was skilled and full of power. Every stroke caused the massive meat-dragon at his crotch to emit a low moan. The hot, wet liquid quickly soaked the inside of his school trousers, making subtle friction sounds.
[I don't trust that woman, Amelia.] Jerry's voice, carrying a bone-chilling rationality, spoke to McGonagall in his mind. [Although she seems to be venting anger for me, I know she definitely has other plans, right?]
As Jerry spoke, he tried hard to control his breathing to avoid making any sound. His gaze stared tightly at McGonagall's foot swaying in the black silk. That provocation made the movements at his crotch more hurried and fierce.
McGonagall's gaze swept left and right calmly, confirming that no student's eyes, not even fleetingly, rested on her or Jerry.
The corners of her lips rose slightly, flashing a hint of appreciation. This brat was vigilant enough and bold enough.
[Smart brat.] McGonagall's voice, carrying a hint of appreciation, rang in Jerry's mind again. Gently and elegantly, she leaned her body forward a bit. Her already high breasts now tilted a bit more toward Jerry, her cleavage becoming even deeper.
Then, those beautifully lined long legs wrapped in black silk, from beneath the cover of the robes, like a stealthy viper, silently crossed the narrow space of the desk and reached straight toward Jerry's seat.
The cold, sharp tip of the stiletto heel, carrying a faint fragrance, first touched Jerry's crotch beneath his school trousers, gently yet precisely.
That shoe tip, carrying a seductive weight, rubbed gently and deftly over Jerry's erected, thick meat-root.
[Mmh... hah...] Jerry's body stiffened abruptly, and his stroking motion paused for half a second.
McGonagall's cold shoe tip, through his pants, was making the most direct and lingering contact with his meat-root. That feeling carried the stimulation of ice and fire, making the fire at his crotch burn even brighter.
However, McGonagall's shoe tip did not stop. As if possessing a life of its own, it slid downward along Jerry's taut school trousers, slowly and with extreme provocation.
Plop...
A slight sound, like a feather landing, yet also like a heavy hammer striking Jerry's heart. McGonagall's foot wrapped in black silk had now completely detached from the high heel. That smooth and tender sole, carrying the faintly visible anklet on her ankle, directly, wantonly, and precisely stepped on Jerry's testicles!
[Mmh... hah!]
Jerry's body shuddered violently; he almost couldn't suppress the stifled moan deep in his throat. That cold yet soft touch formed a sharp contrast with his meat-root, which was hot from being stroked. McGonagall's smooth foot wrapped in black silk was now gently, and with just the right amount of force, completely wrapping his two testicles in the arch of her foot, crushing them gently.
That crushing carried an ultimate softness, yet was also mixed with cold teasing. Every tiny movement of her toes brought wave after wave of numbness and stimulation, like an electric current, over Jerry's testicles. The testicles were rubbed by the soft black silk, intertwining with the body heat unique to the professor. That impact made Jerry's thick meat-root—which was already being stroked vigorously—erupt even more fiercely and powerfully, as if injected with adrenaline.
McGonagall's sole now completely wrapped Jerry's testicles in the arch of her foot, kneading and crushing them gently and skillfully back and forth. The pleasure of flexibility and coldness intertwined made Jerry's meat-root, under her silent teasing, stroke up and down even more vigorously and fiercely under his own left hand. The slippery juices had completely soaked his palm and school trousers, making continuous slurp, slurp sounds.
[Amelia... she has her eyes on the upcoming Triwizard Tournament.]
McGonagall's voice, carrying a hint of mockery and understanding, rang in Jerry's mind again. Her foot, however, did not stop at all. Instead, taking advantage of the gap while she crushed Jerry's testicles with her footjob, her soft and elastic big toe and second toe, like the most agile pincers, through the black stockings, accurately and with playful force clamped onto Jerry's erected, thick meat-root, gently squeezing and rubbing it above his testicles.
[She wants to set this competition zone at Hogwarts.] McGonagall's cold toes, through the stockings and school trousers, were now precisely kneading the most sensitive part of Jerry's meat-root. That kneading, accompanied by her sole crushing Jerry's testicles, formed an ultimate stimulation capable of causing an instant orgasm.
Jerry's breathing became exceptionally heavy. His left hand, completely covered in slippery, sticky fluid, brought up bursts of lewd squelch... squelch water sounds with every stroke.
His young body was now on the verge of eruption, but McGonagall's ultimate foot teasing made him unable to stop or pull away from that pleasure.
[And to set this competition zone at Hogwarts, the Board of Governors needs to vote.] McGonagall's toes, as if possessing their own consciousness, carried out the most precise and fatal teasing on Jerry's meat-root and testicles.
Her movements carried the charm and manipulation of a mature woman; every gentle flick could make Jerry's massive meat-dragon emit a low roar.
[What benefit does this hold for her?] Jerry's voice carried a hint of a tremble, but his reason remained intact. The movement of his left hand also did not stop, but became even wilder and faster due to the stimulation.
McGonagall's soles were now sliding skillfully between Jerry's testicles and meat-root. Her toes could even feel the scorching temperature of Jerry's meat-root and the thumping pulse of the bulging veins on it. With the movement of her soles, a faint water sound, like a clear spring, could be heard indistinctly between her foot wrapped in black silk and Jerry's school trousers, as if narrating the surging desire of the moment.
[Heh... brat, that is a good story.]
McGonagall's voice carried a light chuckle, the laugh full of enticement. [Then I have to mention what happened back then...]
The movement of her foot suddenly accelerated.
That sole wrapped in black silk, carrying an unprecedented force and precise skill, deathly tightened around Jerry's two testicles, wrapping them completely in the arch of her foot. She yanked them upward abruptly, then crushed them downward fiercely.
At the same time, her soft big toe and second toe, through the stockings, squeezed and rubbed Jerry's thick, hard meat-root even more fiercely and fatally.
[...A grudge.]
Simultaneously, the second jade foot perfectly wrapped in black silk stockings, carrying a richer body scent unique to mature women, like a twin viper, elegantly and lethally crossed the barrier of the desk and joined her right foot.
Both feet landed together on Jerry's crotch, which was already soaked with desire and body fluids.
"Mmph...!" Jerry's body pitched backward abruptly under this double stimulation. His back slammed heavily against the back of the chair, emitting a suppressed, muffled thud.
His brain was nearly completely washed away by this sudden double sensory impact in an instant.
If the teasing of one foot was a precise and fatal hook, then the toying of two feet was a tender net woven from desire from which there was no escape.
McGonagall's right foot continued skillfully and wickedly using her arch to wrap around his swollen, hot testicles, grinding gently, while her toes acted like the most agile octopus tentacles, constantly pinching and rubbing his meat-root.
And her newly joined left foot displayed a completely different charm.
The instep of McGonagall's slender left foot pressed tightly against Jerry's high-towering, unreasonably thick meat-root. The cold stockings and the scorching flesh, separated by a thin layer of school trouser fabric, formed a dramatic temperature difference.
McGonagall's toes curled upward nimbly, using the most sensitive gap between her toes to clamp the tip of his meat-root, which was already completely soaked in body fluids. In an extremely slow posture, yet carrying the weight of a thousand pounds, she ground up and down.
Squelch... slurp... squelch...
Double the friction brought double the lewd water sounds. Jerry's school trousers were now completely soaked through by the body fluids secreted from their junction, sticking viscously to his skin, outlining the hideous silhouette of his angry dragon even more clearly.
McGonagall's two feet acted like two master dancers, performing a breathtaking duet of conquest and indulgence at his crotch.
Her right foot was in charge of controlling the foundation; every crush on the testicles was like adding firewood to the fire of his desire.
Her left foot was in charge of conquering the peak; every grind on the tip of the meat-root was like detonating the last string of his reason.
Jerry's breathing was as heavy as a dilapidated bellows. His hand holding the meat-root to stroke had completely lost its rhythm, merely twitching up and down passively and spasmodically under the precise control of McGonagall's feet.
[Back then...] McGonagall's voice rang faintly in Jerry's mind, carrying a trace of melancholy from the memory, yet mixed with the hoarseness of present desire. [When Amelia was still a student, she was also a champion of Hogwarts, representing the school to participate in the Triwizard Tournament.]
As McGonagall spoke, the toes of her left foot suddenly exerted force, deathly clamping onto the coronal ridge of Jerry's meat-root. Then, at an extremely slow speed, imitating the action of oral sex, they licked and scraped back and forth over that sensitive trench.
Meanwhile, McGonagall's right foot used her heel to heavily pound against his perineum, stroke after stroke. The force felt as if she wanted to completely smash open his semen gate.
"Hah... mmh-ah..." Jerry's body shuddered violently. He had to bite his lower lip deathly hard to prevent that high-pitched moan, which was about to burst out, from echoing throughout the entire examination room.
[Except, the venue for that tournament, unfortunately...] McGonagall's voice carried obvious mockery. [Was not at Hogwarts, nor in any school under the control of the European Ministry of Magic, but in... America.
Ilvermorny!]
Her two feet seemed to have found perfect coordination at this moment.
The arch of her right foot deathly suppressed his testicles, leaving them nowhere to escape, while her left foot used its instep to lift his meat-root high upward, forming a taut angle full of visual impact.
Then, the ten toes of her two feet, like ten agile little snakes, simultaneously launched a stormy barrage of plucking, kneading, and scraping on his meat-root and testicles.
"Hiss... hiss..." Jerry gasped. He felt his reason being nibbled away bit by bit by these feet. The giant dragon at his crotch, between his hand and her feet, was accumulating magma ready to erupt at an unprecedented speed.
[Those Americans...] McGonagall's voice was full of disdain. [From the very beginning of the tournament, they were full of prejudice and arrogance.
Their referees, in every event, blew biased whistles without disguise.
Amelia was clearly the most outstanding of all the champions back then, yet because of those shameless methods, she was relegated to second place in the final task.]
Speaking of this, the movements of McGonagall's feet stopped abruptly.
Her two feet, in a highly retaliatory posture, used their soles like two red-hot branding irons to clamp Jerry's thick meat-root from the left and right, and then suddenly tore and stretched it outward!
"Ah!" A buzz exploded in Jerry's brain like thunder. That severe pain of flesh being forcibly stretched, intertwined with the pleasure brought by extreme toying, formed a nearly masochistic, manic stimulation.
[Therefore,] McGonagall's voice was cold yet full of fire. [She has wanted to take revenge for this for many years.
She isn't just venting anger for you, but more so for herself... for the glory she lost back then.]
Having said that, McGonagall's two feet instantly released their tearing motion, turning instead to a soothing, gentle posture. Her arches wrapped around Jerry's meat-root and testicles—which had been tortured nearly to the point of exploding—drawing gentle circles and soothing them.
That sudden tenderness was more lethal than any previous brutality.
[More importantly,] McGonagall's voice turned deep again, full of cold political calculation. [If she can lead the effort to host the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts this time, and lead the European Ministry of Magic to ultimate victory... this achievement will be enough to grant her unparalleled political capital on her path to running for Minister of Magic in the future.]
Jerry panted heavily; that brief, gentle soothing allowed him to catch his breath slightly. He forced himself to pull a shred of reason from that boundless vortex of desire, asking hoarsely in his mind:
[Does this tournament... have any practical significance other than providing a stepping stone for you officials?]
Hearing this question, McGonagall seemed amused. She let out a burst of unrestrained, queen-like, melodic "Heh heh" cold laughter in his mind.
[Is there actually something... our omnipotent Mr. Jerry Rosier doesn't know?]
Her tone was full of teasing, and her actions became more direct. Her two feet, once again in a brand-new posture, began their abuse of Jerry.
This time, the soles of her feet faced each other, like a warm and slippery clam shell made of flesh, blood, and black silk, completely clamping Jerry's thick meat-root from root to tip in the middle. Then, she brought her legs together, and using the power of her thighs, drove her feet to begin violently and rapidly stroking up and down on his meat-root!
Squelch! Squelch! Squelch!
That sound was a hundred times louder and a hundred times more lewd than when Jerry stroked with his own hand!
Every up and down motion was like the ultimate footjob fleshlight, rubbing every inch of skin on Jerry's meat-root burning hot. The soaked school trousers now completely lost their isolating function, becoming an accomplice to increasing lubrication.
[The winner of the Triwizard Tournament, whether it be the individual, the school they belong to, or the Ministry of Magic they represent, can gain massive benefits.]
While McGonagall frantically clamped Jerry's meat-root with her feet and stroked up and down, she explained with an alluring voice: [I won't mention the personal and school rewards, which are nothing more than some Galleons and honor... but for the winning Ministry of Magic...]
Her feet paused abruptly, deathly clamping Jerry's meat-root which was on the verge of eruption. Then, her ankles turned gently, driving her entire soles to perform a spiral, juice-extracting grind on his meat-root!
[The winning Ministry of Magic will obtain, under the framework of the International Confederation of Wizards, one...]
Her voice dragged out the final syllable, full of lethal temptation.
[...Veto power.]
The spiral grinding on her feet reached its peak madness as she spoke these words!
[In any high-level negotiations with the European Ministry of Magic, the American Magic Association, or the Asian Ministry of Magic over the next ten years, the winning party can use this single, precious opportunity to ignore all opposing opinions and force the passage of a resolution most favorable to their side.]
[This... is what Amelia, and I, truly want.]
The moment her voice faded, McGonagall's feet, clamped tight like a clam shell, in a posture meant to squeeze out everything, completed one last, and also the most violent...
Up and down stroke on Jerry's meat-root!
"AHHHHHHH!"
Jerry could suppress it no longer!
He threw his head back abruptly, his body bouncing and twitching violently in the chair.
That desire, accumulated to the extreme, erupted thoroughly at this moment in a world-destroying posture, like a volcano that had been suppressed for a thousand years!
Pshh! Pshhh!
A white flood, larger, more surging, and hotter than any time before, carrying a deafening sound, shot frantically from the tip of his meat-root!
The power of that flood was so immense it even broke straight through the restraint of the school trousers. Like a white fountain, it poured entirely over McGonagall's jade feet wrapped in black silk, dyeing those originally pure black stockings with a large patch of blinding, viscous...
In this instant, only one thought remained in Jerry's mind—to possess, to thoroughly possess this woman teasing him before his eyes.
His body was still spasming violently, but those eyes had already ignited with a dangerous and wild flame.
Buzz!
A powerful magical fluctuation erupted suddenly from within Jerry's body. This was not the chanting of a spell, but a pure drive of will.
With Jerry as the center, an invisible magical barrier expanded instantly, completely isolating their area from the other young wizards in the examination room.
This was not a physical division, but a more advanced—sensory isolation.
The hearing, vision, smell, and even subconscious perception of all the students were perfectly twisted by this magic.
In their eyes, Jerry was still sitting in his seat, and Professor McGonagall was still invigilating with dignity.
But in the world of the two of them, the entire examination room seemed to have the "pause button" pressed; time and space condensed in this moment of indulgence.
Jerry let out a beast-like low roar almost immediately and lunged forward! His small body, beneath the desk where everyone else couldn't see, with unbelievable swiftness, like a venomous snake waiting for an opportunity, darted straight from under his desk toward the space beneath Professor McGonagall's chair!
Rustle!
McGonagall's legs shrank back abruptly due to Jerry's sudden movement.
However, Jerry was too fast! His body, as if attracted by a magnet, pressed tightly against her black silk—which was covered in his white liquid and now wet, slippery, and sticky—surged upward, and firmly locked her body in his embrace!
"Ah...!" McGonagall's body tensed abruptly, a broken and terrified delicate cry escaping from deep in her throat!
That sound felt familiar yet full of ultimate taboo even in her own ears.
Her hands instinctively wanted to struggle, wanting to push away this reckless brat.
But Jerry's thin yet immensely powerful hands were now acting like a pair of iron pincers, deathly hooping McGonagall's plump, elastic thighs, tightly and completely imprisoning her soft and elastic body within his embrace!
Jerry's wet cheek, stained with viscous white liquid, was now buried tightly in Professor McGonagall's private triangle, which radiated a mature body scent. The black lace panties, already soaked with body fluids during the intense footjob just now, were further stained and made even more viscous by Jerry's hot white liquid. They now clung thinly to McGonagall's private parts; the silhouette they outlined, and the faintly visible pink hue within, acted like an ultimate enticement.
Jerry's lips, carrying hot, wet body fluids, unhesitatingly pressed directly onto that private area wrapped in lace and covered in his white liquid. Greedily, with a primal craving, he kissed, licked, and bit fiercely and roughly at that soft, elastic private part, which was now as wet and slippery as if coated in honey.
"Mmh... no... Jerry... you... mmh-ah!" McGonagall's body pitched backward abruptly as if electrocuted. Her legs snapped straight and clamped tight from this sudden violation, desperately trying to break free from this fatal temptation. However, Jerry's hands hugged her long thighs deathly tight, giving her not the slightest chance to escape. His tongue-tip, roughly and nimbly, pierced through the thin lace, feeling the soft petals beneath the fabric and the continuous hot flow seeping out.
"We are still in an exam, hurry back to your seat!"
Squelch... slurp... mmh... mmh-ah...
Sticky water sounds were clearly audible in the silent magical barrier. Jerry's rough tongue-tip, through the lace, acted like the most skilled oral sex machine on those sensitive petals and that small red bean already swollen from lust. Greedily and mercilessly, he licked back and forth, sucked, swirled, and nipped!
His youthful cheeks now carried a wildness and ferocity unbefitting his age, pressed tightly against the black silk covered in his white liquid and Professor McGonagall's body fluids. The rich, sweet-musky fragrance—a mix of the mature woman's unique body scent, his white liquid, and Professor McGonagall's body fluids—instantly rushed into Jerry's nasal cavity, stimulating every one of his senses and making his desire burn even brighter at this moment.
"You... what are you doing... mmh-ah... stop... stop!" McGonagall's body trembled violently like the tide. Her usually rigorous and calm voice had now been completely replaced by heavy panting and broken moans. Her cheeks were already as red as ripe apples, her forehead dripping with fragrant sweat.
That pair of square glasses worn on her face was also askew now, hanging halfway off her ear, ready to fall at any moment.
Jerry ignored McGonagall's resistance. His hands exerted sudden force, deathly hooping McGonagall's thighs. That small body erupted with a massive power entirely disproportionate to his frail appearance. He lifted McGonagall's voluptuous body fiercely and roughly from the chair, and then, directly forced her to stand upon that high-backed chair used for invigilation!
"Ah...!" McGonagall's center of gravity was lost instantly; she stumbled forward violently, uncontrollably. Her stiletto heels clad in black stockings now stepped on the not-so-wide wooden armrests of the chair, appearing somewhat wobbly, ready to fall at any time. The stimulation brought by that loss of balance, and Jerry's mouth pressed tightly against her private parts, acted like two rampaging beasts, tearing her apart completely.
"Jerry... you... little demon..." McGonagall's voice carried a hint of ultimate pain, a trace of boundless humiliation, yet was mixed with the unmaskable, deepest ecstasy of her body. Her legs opened slightly due to the unstable center of gravity. That lace panty soaked with white liquid and body fluids was now completely presented before Jerry's eyes on the high platform of the chair. That dirty lewdness formed an ultimate contrast with her usually noble and pure image.
On Jerry's youthful face hung a bloodthirsty and wild smile. His lips, carrying hot wet saliva and sticky white liquid, launched a new round of plundering against McGonagall's private parts, which were forced to lift high and became plumper and more swollen. Greedily, unreservedly, he buried his mouth entirely into McGonagall's completely soaked black silk and lace panties, using the most primal oral sex posture to conduct ultimate siege and conquest upon her!
McGonagall's body went completely stiff at this moment. Her usually strong and powerful hands, controlled by Jerry's overbearing command, slowly, unwillingly, and forcedly raised upward, and then, placed themselves behind her head!
This posture thoroughly displayed her proud upper body. Her two majestic breasts, due to her raised hands, stood tall and proud, ready to burst out from beneath the thin lace bra. Her neck, because of this posture, presented a beautiful and fragile arc. And her usually serious and rigid face had now completely broken down!
The flush spread from her neck all the way to her cheeks and the roots of her ears. Veins bulged on her forehead, and her eyes rolled back due to ultimate pleasure and boundless humiliation, leaving only large areas of the whites of her eyes and the crystal tears constantly welling from the corners. Her mouth was wide open, continuous, high-pitched, and incredibly confused panting and moans coming from her throat, as if she were being torn apart alive! That "broken" expression formed an ultimate contrast with her usually calm and wise image, full of visual impact and destructive temptation.
Her usually neat bun was also disheveled due to the violent twisting of her body. A few strands of silver-gray hair hung messily on her sweat-soaked cheeks, adding a bit of wildness. The breasts on her chest shook and bounced violently with every tremble of her body. That ultimate shyness and lewdness turned her whole person into a roaring fire, sufficient to burn all reason to ashes.
Jerry's hot, wet, and rough tongue-tip was now inside McGonagall's wet, slippery, and sticky lace panties, performing the most meticulous and fiercest oral sex on her private parts. His sensitive tongue, like the most skilled artist, licked, flipped, sucked, and nipped at the sensitive petals beneath the lace. That lace fabric was now completely wetted, soaked, and turned transparent and sticky by Jerry's saliva, his white liquid, and Professor McGonagall's massive amount of body fluids.
Squelch... slurp-slurp... mmh-mmh-mmh... ah... oh-ah...
The water sounds were infinitely amplified in this highly private world. Deep within McGonagall's body, the fire of lust stirred up by Jerry's mouth and tongue acted like stormy waves, wave after wave, fiercely and irresistibly crashing against all her reason.
However, in her bones, Professor McGonagall was, after all, also a powerful witch, a proud woman. That sense of forced humiliation, and the inviolable dignity deep within her soul, were ignited by Jerry's ultimate humiliation at this moment. The dazed pleasure in her eyes was instantly replaced by a ruthless fire of anger.
"You... you brat! Mmh-ah... think... mmh... think you can toy with me as you please?!" McGonagall's voice carried a hint of threat, but was completely betrayed by the broken and confused moans constantly surging from her mouth.
Her body, hugged by Jerry and standing on the chair, abruptly, and retaliatorily, began a violent shaking!
Her buttocks, those two plump and elastic mounds of flesh, like the most precise weapons, carrying a powerful force, time and again, frantically slammed downward and inward against Jerry's lips!
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
One after another, muffled and powerful sounds of flesh colliding came from Jerry's face.
McGonagall's buttocks, soaked burning hot by desire, and that lace panty dyed by white liquid and body fluids, were now fiercely and precisely slamming against Jerry's mouth. That impact carried a kind of ultimate vengeful pleasure, while also mixed with the unsuppressable physiological reactions inside McGonagall's own body.
"Mmph... wuh... mmh-hah..." Jerry's originally greedy sucking movements were disrupted by Professor McGonagall's violent impacts at this moment. His lips ached from the impacts of McGonagall's powerful buttocks, even feeling a sense of numbness. However, this pain only further stimulated the wild desire to conquer deep within his heart. He opened his mouth, and amidst the impacts of McGonagall's buttocks, actually penetrated deeper, more brazenly, licking and sucking that private part which had become even more flavorful due to the violent impacts.
McGonagall's buttocks continued to shake tirelessly. Every downward impact buried her private parts deeper and more thoroughly into Jerry's mouth. And Jerry, like the greediest glutton, under every impact, sucked mouthfuls of her gushing nectar.
That intertwined flesh, those sounds of impact, those lewd water sounds, those ultimate expressions, that black silk and lace dyed full of white liquid... everything constituted a picture filled with taboo, barbarity, loss of control, and boundless lust. Under the shelter of the magical barrier, in this solemn and respectful examination room, it was wantonly being staged.
McGonagall had completely fallen at this moment. Her reason was burned to ashes by this ultimate bodily pleasure and the humiliating anger incited by this boy's unbridled offense. Her mind was blank, leaving only the instinctive trembling of her body, and those high-pitched and heart-wrenching moans that seemed as if they could never be fully vented.