With a gentle flick of his finger.
An ethereal magical light screen materialized out of thin air in the center of the office.
Professor McGonagall's pupils constricted imperceptibly, and her movements beneath the desk ceased, her entire focus drawn to the sudden magical vision.
The screen first displayed a bustling shopping mall in the Muggle world, filled with the roar of crowds.
However, the perspective of the film carried a strange, voyeuristic quality.
The lens seemed manipulated by some hidden magic, acting as both a third-person observer and a first-person lurker, capturing every detail of the mall from incredibly tricky angles.
Next, four women with slender figures and voluptuous curves stepped into the frame one after another.
Their faces were obscured by a hazy magical glow, leaving only their silhouettes visible, but the mature charm they radiated was enough to spark wild imagination.
Their outfits had been meticulously selected by Jerry, designed to maximize the temptation of their physiques and the conflict of their temperaments.
Narcissa Malfoy wore an exquisitely tailored black dress; her waist was slender yet her curves remained full, her every move radiating the elegance and cold arrogance of a high-born lady.
Isabella was dressed in a wine-red, form-fitting suit, her intellectual air laced with an unspeakable, seductive allure.
Her cute, girlish face formed a sharp contrast with her mature, hourglass figure.
Every gesture carried an inviting contradiction.
She seemed to intentionally or unintentionally display a unique "maiden-turned-MILF" aura before the lens.
Amelia, the Department Head currently heavy with pregnancy, wore a loose blue maternity dress.
Yet it failed to hide her proud bust and rounded belly.
A contradiction of sanctity and debauchery was displayed vividly upon her.
That special radiance that bloomed after being impregnated by Jerry could be felt even with her face blurred.
And Professor McGonagall… in the film, she wore something she almost never touched—a quite sexy black sheer miniskirt.
Her chest was slightly exposed, her thighs were completely bare, and she wore a semi-transparent dark green silk shawl over her shoulders.
Walking at the very front, her silhouette was lithe and graceful, yet her movements still retained the intellectual sharpness and efficiency of a professor.
They looked like Muggle ladies out for a shopping trip, but the faint traces of magic flowing around them proclaimed their identity as witches.
Soon, the film cut to a boutique lingerie shop, followed by a shop specializing in magical artifacts.
The lens shuttled between rows of dazzling shelves, finally settling on four boxes.
Inside were several magical sex toys cleverly conceived and supervised by Jerry.
One box contained a "Chastity Belt" woven from magical materials, shaped like a unicorn's horn and pure white throughout.
It wasn't meant for punishment, but to amplify that numbing sensation of "imprisonment," challenging the boundaries of will and desire.
The other two items were a "Magical Vibrator" inlaid with a massive pink gemstone at the tip, looking large enough to fill any witch's depths, and a "Magical Dog Leash" woven from gold lace and fine iron chains, embedded with a small spell array designed specifically for women.
The vibrator's magic was set to allow external remote control of frequency and intensity, while the dog leash's array would trigger periodically, forcing the wearer into postures of submission or obedience.
The toys in the final box were magical pills and ointments that looked like candy but were clearly not for eating—these were anal beads and plugs shrunk to the absolute limit.
They were cast with Extension and Invisibility Charms, capable of automatically restoring their size and turning invisible after insertion.
Every tug would bring ultimate friction to the internal walls, challenging the baseline of female shame and pleasure.
On the film screen, floating magical text flashed: [Mission: Wear and manipulate these sex toys without being detected by others while completing designated scenario challenges.]
When Professor McGonagall saw this, her breath hitched violently.
Her toes, as if cast with a spell, twisted fiercely, nearly shredding the fabric over Jerry's meat-root.
"You perverted brat!"
Her voice was hoarse, filled with a bizarre excitement.
Her stocking-clad sole rubbed Jerry's lower body frantically, crushing the massive meat-root that was hard to the point of pain.
Jerry was now completely soaked, fluid constantly seeping through his school robes.
But Jerry only smirked with even more malice.
"Don't be in such a hurry, Professor. This is just the foreplay, isn't it?"
His hand gently brushed the Recording Stone, and the light screen continued to play.
—
The scene shifted, beginning to show the private process of the four witches receiving and donning their special "equipment."
The first to appear was none other than Professor McGonagall herself.
In the lens, she was in a sparsely populated dressing room of a mall, unzipping her sheer skirt.
She lifted one leg; that long, beautifully curved limb looked exceptionally white and tempting under the light.
She took out the "Chastity Belt" woven from magical materials from the box.
The belt was exquisitely designed, the main body perfectly covering her most private parts, nearly merging with her skin upon being worn.
As soon as she put it on, her lower body was instantly encased in a strange and peculiar tightness, her sensitive parts completely untouchable.
Wearing the chastity belt, she walked through the crowded mall, feeling a constant, phantom-like numbness and restraint deep within her body.
Every time she instinctively wanted to reach out and touch herself, she could only feel the cold magical fibers.
She tried to maintain her rigorous professor's posture, but with every step, the belt's tiny magical flow swept over her sensitive edges like an electric current.
This caused her inner thighs to tighten involuntarily, and the soaking juices of her arousal began to spread beneath her skirt.
The McGonagall in the footage turned pale, fine beads of sweat seeping from the tip of her nose.
She had to quicken her pace, trying to distract herself through rapid movement.
The recording even captured her rapid breathing from the suppression, and the sound of her desire, triggered by the belt, churning inside her.
This kind of torture made the McGonagall both inside and outside the screen nearly lose control of her emotions, forcing her to bite her lower lip deathly hard to prevent any unseemly moans from escaping...
"Little bastard!"
Next was Narcissa Malfoy.
In an extremely hidden corner, with her back to the camera, she skillfully slid the massive pink gem vibrator into her body.
The tip of the vibrator was huge, the inlaid pink gem crystal clear.
Once the magic was activated, it would emit a faint hum and release intense vibrations.
Narcissa's mission was to attend a high-society art auction.
Under the gaze of everyone, she had to wear this vibrator and remain silent and without any sign of abnormality as the frequency changed.
Narcissa sat at the auction in a magnificent gown, maintaining her usual poise and arrogance as Madam Malfoy.
However, the massive vibrator inside her throbbed in an irregular pattern, every pulse slamming deep into her cervix, bringing waves of unbearable numbness and tremors.
Narcissa had to clamp her legs tightly, concentrating all her focus on the auction items, trying to ignore the tearing pleasure within her.
Occasionally, Narcissa's body would jerk violently due to a surge in vibration.
Her legs trembled slightly beneath her gown, and sweat soaked her back, making her body exceptionally slippery inside her clothes.
Narcissa endured with all her might, her throat only capable of making tiny swallowing sounds to mask the wet sounds of her arousal and the suffocation brought by each impact.
Then came Isabella.
In a high-end Muggle restaurant, using the interval of a trip to the restroom, she donned the "Magical Dog Leash" woven from gold lace and iron chains around her neck, waist, and hips.
The special feature of this leash was that once activated, the end of the chain would connect to an invisible crystal puppet.
The puppet would tug the chain periodically, forcing Isabella into various submissive postures in public.
Isabella's mission was to have a chat with an old-fashioned Muggle noblewoman in the restaurant and complete all commands issued by the leash without being detected.
In the film, Isabella sat elegantly at the table, chatting and laughing with the Muggle lady.
Her long, golden curly hair was draped casually.
Beneath her youthful face were eyes filled with mature allure.
The wine-red suit outlined her exquisite curves perfectly, displaying a lethal attraction between girlish charm and MILF seductiveness.
Suddenly, the chain around her neck tightened.
An irresistible force yanked her body forward, nearly forcing her to her knees on the floor.
Isabella forcibly steadied herself, pretending to have accidentally dropped her napkin.
She leaned over to pick it up, skillfully using her arm to hide the abnormality at her neck.
However, the tugging of the dog leash did not stop.
Her waist was pulled forcefully, making her buttocks tilt backward involuntarily into an incredibly lewd posture.
Isabella could only endure the shame, using the excuse of picking things up to mask her manipulated body.
Her blurred face maintained a proper smile, but her eyes were filled with the pain of being humiliated.
Sweat dripped from the hair at the side of her neck.
She could feel every nerve in her body shaking violently from the leash's compulsory commands.
Her lower half was already a soaking mess from the sense of degradation and the continuous stimulation.
She had to use her superb acting skills to hide these primal physiological reactions beneath an elegant conversation.
Finally, there was the pregnant Amelia.
Her mission was to go to a Muggle hospital for a routine prenatal checkup.
During the examination, she needed to secretly insert the string of anal beads and endure the intense stimulation of every tug while under the noses of doctors and nurses, without showing any sign of abnormality.
The screen switched to a private exam room in the Muggle hospital.
Amelia's belly was particularly conspicuous.
She lay on the exam table, enduring the doctor's touch on her abdomen.
However, just as the doctor turned to fill out the records, she silently fished the micro anal beads from her pocket.
With her legs slightly spread, she painstakingly and cautiously slid the beads into her tight rear.
As the exam proceeded, the doctor would occasionally ask her to roll over or adjust her posture.
Every movement of her body dragged the beads inside, making them rub and roll against her sensitive rectal walls, bringing waves of tearing pleasure.
Worse still, Amelia's body became stiff and tense.
She gasped for breath, clutching the bedsheets until her palms were covered in sweat.
She could clearly hear the "thump-thump" of her own heart, as if it were about to burst from her chest.
She tried her best to pretend it was just ordinary pregnancy discomfort.
But her blurred face, distorted by the struggle to endure, was covered in dense sweat.
Her legs were parted slightly due to the intense stimulation from below, clamping the sheets tightly, unable to close.
The female doctor would look at her face from time to time, pushing her internal sense of shame to the peak, yet she was powerless.
Four witches, in their respective public settings, wearing Jerry's custom sex toys, endured sensory stimulation and shameful torment unimaginable to ordinary people.
They tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, but the dazed look in their eyes, the trembling of their bodies, and the moisture constantly gushing from their lower halves exposed their inner fall and struggle completely.
Professor McGonagall's pupils contracted violently.
She became nearly hysterical, using all her strength to grind and rub her stockinged toes against the massive meat-root covered by the school robes.
Each thrust was harder than the last, fitting closer than the last.
The sole of her foot even seemed to emit white steam, and the fabric of the stockings began to deform.
"Jerry!" she growled through gritted teeth, her voice filled with humiliation and rage, yet laced with an unmaskable pant.
The heat from below passed through the fabric and her stockings, reaching every one of her nerve endings.
"Was it necessary to film it so precisely?"
Jerry only laughed with evil intent, gesturing for her to keep watching.
The film frame switched again.
The four women met up and began to wander through the mall.
However, soon, a hidden magical pulse enveloped them.
It was a command controlled remotely by Jerry, boosting the intensity of all the sex toys to the limit.
Their footsteps began to look abnormal.
Though they maintained a facade of elegance, their bodies writhed involuntarily.
Their eyes were unfocused, as if being pulled by an invisible force.
Professor McGonagall's hips began to sway more noticeably.
She instinctively clamped her legs, trying to suppress the abnormality coming from deep within.
Isabella's cheeks bore an unnatural crimson flush.
Her hand frequently moved to her chest, trying to calm her rapid breathing.
Narcissa appeared more stoic, but her slightly hurried gasps and furrowed brows betrayed her.
And Amelia's abdomen began to contract unnaturally.
She clutched her pregnant belly as if enduring some unspeakable stimulation.
Next, the perspective switched even more skillfully—from beneath their skirts, from glass reflections, and even from cameras mounted on store mannequins, capturing the true state beneath their hems.
One could see that the area beneath their skirts had been completely occupied by the magical sex toys.
Every single one was churning and vibrating within them at the wildest intensity.
The wet sounds became faintly audible even amidst the noisy background of the Muggle mall.
The film suddenly cut.
The four women, as if they had found the culprit, rushed in unison toward the public restrooms of the mall.
Inside the restroom, the four women stumbled in and slammed the door shut, locking it.
The perspective of the light screen followed them inside.
The camera was cleverly hidden in vents and corners, capturing everything that followed from higher and more secretive angles.
They had completely lost their reason.
Their blurred faces and expressions had turned into ultimate craving.
Their clothes were in disarray, their breathing was rapid, and the pubic hair beneath their bellies was already soaked with body fluids, revealing a scene of mud and swelling.
Impatiently, they extended wet fingertips to pull the magical sex toys from their passages and nipples, tossing them to the floor.
What followed was an intense, nearly suffocating aura of debauchery, accompanied by the sound of gushing fluids.
Professor McGonagall's legs were spread wide as she dug her fingers deep into her moist private parts, toying with herself frantically.
Narcissa, Isabella, and Amelia were similarly lost in this ultimate desire.
Their mouths were slightly open, their tongues curling, as they emitted lewd moans and gasps.
The pregnant Amelia even squeezed her own breasts with her hands.
A large amount of watery milk mixed with her arousal, flowing down her fingertips and dripping to the floor in a series of crisp splashes.
Their bodies shook violently with desire.
Their private parts twitched and contracted incessantly, craving to be filled by something.
They searched around until they opened the innermost stall.
A youthful but sturdy silhouette stepped slowly out of the cubicle, wearing an open Slytherin school robe.
Beneath it, he was completely bare, wearing no clothing at all.
Though his face couldn't be seen.
Jerry's meat-root—that massive long spear that was utterly disproportionate to his frame, a strange thing covered in rounded barbs.
It stood high before his young body—hard, thick, and bursting with the vigorous energy of adolescent male hormones.
Framed by the faintly glowing magical sex toys on the floor, it looked even more hideous.
The four MILFs saw Jerry and seemed to instantly find the source of their craving.
They lunged at him almost simultaneously, their mouths emitting various lewd grunts.
In the film, Jerry held an exquisite crystal remote control inlaid with four different colored gems.
His fingers slid gently over the gems.
Every touch triggered a violent reaction in the bodies of the four women.
Professor McGonagall was forced to be held by Narcissa and Isabella on either side.
Their hands clamped her wrists, pinning her to the cold sink in a posture bordering on barbaric, forcing her back to arch and her buttocks to tilt high.
McGonagall struggled with all her might, muffled groans escaping her mouth—but this wasn't true resistance.
It was more of an instinctive reaction under the control of the magical sex toys.
Jerry pressed the green gem representing McGonagall on the remote.
The vibrator inside her instantly intensified.
"Ah! Ah!" McGonagall's body arched violently, her legs shaking.
Meanwhile, Amelia pinned McGonagall's head down deathly tight, denying her any possibility of struggle.
Her pregnant belly heaved slightly, but her eyes were filled with a dazed look of being controlled.
Jerry walked behind McGonagall.
His giant spear, so mismatched with his age, was fully erect.
Jerry turned the remote to the highest setting.
The toy inside McGonagall vibrated manically, and her body instantly turned as limp as mud.
Taking advantage of the moment she lost all resistance, Jerry pressed his spear between her muddy, swollen petals.
Without a shred of foreplay, without a moment of hesitation, he just like that, in a posture that shattered all barriers, brutally impaled McGonagall's wet, soft, yet still tight passage.
"AHHHHHH!" The McGonagall in the screen let out a shrill scream.
Her body arched sharply, her nails digging deep into the cold ceramic of the sink.
The sharp pain of being propped open by the thick spear intertwined with the ultimate pleasure of being impaled, nearly causing her to faint.
Jerry continued his assault while toying with the remote in his hand.
He pressed Narcissa's button, making her internal vibe jump at irregular frequencies.
He pressed Isabella's button, and the leash around her neck snapped tight, forcing her into a humiliating pose.
He pressed Amelia's button, and her internal beads began to extend and retract automatically.
Under his control, the four women became total slaves to desire.
Their bodies twisted uncontrollably, fluids flowing down their thighs to form a puddle on the floor.
However, at Jerry's moment of greatest triumph, a change occurred.
Amelia suddenly released her suppression of McGonagall.
Her eyes shifted from dazed to clear—a coldness born of being enraged.
Amelia's right hand suddenly reached out, grabbing Jerry's youthful but powerful waist fiercely from behind.
Amelia's strength was unexpectedly great—pregnancy hadn't weakened her; it made her even more ferocious.
With a sudden yank, she pulled Jerry—who was immersed in pleasure—violently out of McGonagall's body.
"What!" Before Jerry could react, the remote in his hand was snatched away by Narcissa.
Isabella and Narcissa acted almost simultaneously.
They grabbed Jerry's arms deathly tight, slamming him onto the restroom floor in a near-compulsory manner.
"Want to play at exposure?"
"Want to train us?"
Narcissa Malfoy's face no longer held a trace of shame or restraint.
It was replaced by a coldness and madness born of fury.
She smashed the remote onto the floor, sending crystal shards flying.
"Brat, you're still a bit green!"
"You think you can control us with these little tricks?"
Isabella's expression carried an excitement and cruelty stimulated to the peak by desire.
She straddled Jerry's body, pinning him down so he had no room to resist.
She reached out and roughly tore away the only ribbon on Jerry's school robe.
McGonagall climbed up from the sink.
She pulled the vibrator from her own body and tossed it aside.
Her eyes became dangerous and excited.
The humiliation of being manipulated just now was all transformed into the pleasure of revenge.
"Come, ladies, let us give this demon brat a proper lesson!"
The pregnant Amelia's voice was raspy with desire and anger.
Her rounded belly heaved violently, but her eyes were filled with bloodthirsty excitement.
In the next scene of the film, the four MILFs—including McGonagall, Narcissa, Isabella, and the pregnant Amelia—surrounded the boy Jerry in an unprecedentedly dominant posture.
Not a shred of shame remained on them; only a female wildness and cruelty stimulated to the extreme.
Pinned to the floor and stripped of his ability to resist, Jerry had his spear forcibly pulled and toyed with.
McGonagall's right leg stomped fiercely on the root of his thigh, pinning him down to deny any possibility of resistance.
Her other foot rubbed back and forth on his chest.
Isabella sat directly on Jerry's stomach.
Her hand, in a retaliatory posture, gripped Jerry's massive cock—so mismatched with his body—and began to stroke it roughly.
Narcissa picked up the massive vibrator that was in Jerry's hand just moments ago.
She sneered and pressed it against Jerry's rear.
"You like using this toy, don't you?"
"Now let's see how you like the taste!"
She shoved the vibrator in ruthlessly.
And the pregnant Amelia, she sat on Jerry's head.
Milk dripped from her engorged nipples while her sex was aimed directly at Jerry's mouth, forcing him to swallow her fluids.
The counter-attack of the four MILFs had fully commenced.
The film froze on the lewd laughter of the four women and Jerry's painful, shameful wails as the screen finally went dark.
On the Recording Stone, red magical text surfaced once more, staying longer and appearing more striking on the black screen.
[The Fallen Game of the Beautiful MILFs and the Pure-Blood Little Devil: The Truth of Magic Toy Control and Bathroom Retaliation]
—
In the office, the light screen of the Recording Stone vanished, and everything returned to normal.
Professor McGonagall's face was so strangely colored it looked like it could drip water.
She said nothing, but sent the foot clad in black stockings forward once more, accurately stomping onto the high, bulging meat-root covered by the school robes.
"Mmph!" Jerry let out a muffled groan, his body recoiling instinctively, but the back of the chair blocked his retreat.
Professor McGonagall's sole began to grind and crush slowly and powerfully.
The fine weave of the stockings rubbed back and forth on Jerry's thick meat-root—which was utterly disproportionate to his age—through the thin fabric of the school robes.
The arch of her foot pressed down hard, pinning the stiff giant object against the seat, then slid it back and forth in a near-punitive rhythm.
"Hiss!"
Jerry drew a sharp breath.
He could clearly feel the warmth from McGonagall's sole and the unique, slightly abrasive touch of the stockings.
That foot was not gentle; every grind carried a definitive force, as if trying to crush his massive spear from the middle.
"I wouldn't have guessed!" McGonagall's voice was cold and mocking.
Her toes hooked over the tip of Jerry's root, twirling it gently through the fabric.
"You little bastard, do you actually have a talent for becoming a legendary journalist?"
Professor McGonagall's sole increased the pressure, her entire foot bearing down on the thick shaft.
A faint "swish" sound rose between the stockings and the fabric, accompanied by the unsuppressable muffled groans from Jerry's throat.
One could feel the staggering size of the thing beneath her foot—even through the clothes, the hardness and heat were clearly discernible.
It throbbed beneath her sole as if it had a life of its own.
"Are you praising me, Professor?"
Jerry forced a smile, but beads of sweat had already seeped from his forehead, and his voice turned raspy from the stimulation between his legs.
McGonagall did not answer, but ground her heel fiercely into his scrotum, rubbing in small circles.
The sensation, both painful and pleasurable, made Jerry's body shudder.
His hands gripped the armrests of the chair deathly tight, his knuckles turning white from the force.
"However!"
McGonagall's tone turned suddenly serious.
Her foot stopped the grinding but remained planted firmly on Jerry's meat-root.
"How do you guarantee that the gender detection spell won't be broken?"
Her eyes stared sharply at Jerry.
Though she was indeed excited and enjoyed that pleasure of being trained and dominated during the filming of those videos.
Once she calmed down afterward, a deep fear began to spread in her heart.
Jerry saw the concern in her eyes. He reached out a hand, resting it gently on the ankle Minerva McGonagall was using to stomp him, his fingertips sliding up along the texture of the stockings, tracing the curve of her calf.
"Rest easy, Professor." Jerry's voice softened, but his hand grew bolder, his fingertips sliding into the hollow of McGonagall's inner knee, where the skin felt delicate and warm even through the stockings.
Professor McGonagall's body stiffened slightly, but she didn't pull away.
Her sole remained planted on Jerry's meat-root, even unconsciously increasing the pressure due to the touch of his fingers.
"Forbidden Eden!" Jerry spoke as his palm covered her thigh, feeling the tight, elastic skin through the stockings. "The core principle of this magical video site I created is actually very simple."
Jerry's fingers traced gentle circles on her inner thigh, causing McGonagall's breathing to grow ragged.
Professor McGonagall's sole began to move slowly over Jerry's meat-root, the friction-induced pleasure making them both feel a surge of primal restlessness.
"All the magic mirrors used to log into the site!"
Jerry continued his explanation, his hand sliding to the edge of McGonagall's upper thigh, his fingertips grazing the boundary of the forbidden zone: "They are essentially just terminals.
The material used is very special, made from a blend of unicorn horn powder and phoenix tears.
This material is extremely fragile; any attempt to forcibly crack it causes it to shatter instantly."
Professor McGonagall's sole accelerated its friction over his meat-root, the stockings and fabric emitting a sharp hissing sound.
She could feel the thing beneath her foot becoming hotter and harder, with warm liquid beginning to seep out and soak the cloth.
"Unless one makes direct contact with the main server!" Jerry's voice trembled from the stimulation between his legs, but he persisted with his explanation. "Otherwise, there is no way to break the gender-detection spell on them.
The moment any male approaches the mirror, the spell triggers, and the image vanishes instantly.
Only females can view the content."
His hand finally crossed the boundary, his fingertips touching the moist area beneath McGonagall's stockings.
Professor McGonagall's body shuddered violently, and she stomped down hard, drawing a pained yet pleasurable groan from Jerry.
"More importantly!" Jerry gasped, his fingers kneading gently at her private parts through the stockings. "Every magic mirror is registered to a real name.
If one shatters, I receive an immediate notification, letting me know exactly who was trying to crack it."
Professor McGonagall's sole was now completely soaked; Jerry's meat-root pulsed incessantly against her foot, pre-cum seeping out and drenching a large patch of his school robes.
She could feel the outline of the thing—thick enough to nearly burst through the fabric, with veins throbbing beneath her foot.
"So..." Professor McGonagall's voice grew hoarse and low, her sole sliding more violently over Jerry's meat-root, the fabric of the stockings and the wet cloth creating a squelching water sound. "You mean to say those films... can absolutely never be seen by men?"
Jerry nodded, his fingers already pulling back the edge of McGonagall's stockings, making direct contact with her scalding, wet petals.
"Absolutely never."
Jerry's voice carried a hint of triumph. "Those films will only ever be... the private collection of witches."
"Then I can rest easy."
A sense of relief finally entered Professor McGonagall's voice. She gave Jerry's meat-root one last, heavy grind before slowly moving her foot away.
Professor McGonagall turned toward her desk, her legs wrapped in black stockings shimmering with a seductive luster in the dim light.
McGonagall's gaze landed on another document on the desk, one she hadn't noticed before.
She reached out to pick it up, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Quidditch World Cup Sponsorship Application?"
McGonagall flipped through the document, her eyes filled with confusion. "You want to sponsor the Quidditch World Cup?"
Jerry stood up from the chair; the hem of his school robes was heavily soaked, and the thick spear was clearly visible propping up the fabric.
He walked behind Professor McGonagall and, without hesitation, reached out with both hands to grab the full buttocks wrapped in her long skirt.
"Mmh." McGonagall's body stiffened, but she didn't push him away, continuing to stare at the document in her hands.
Jerry's fingers kneaded her butt-flesh forcefully; even through the skirt, he could feel the plump, elastic touch. He pressed his body flush against her back, his massive spear prodding against her butt-crack through the layers of clothing.
"I want to promote the products of the Crystal Puppet Workshop at the Quidditch World Cup." Jerry's voice rang in her ear, laced with a heavy pant.
His hand had already lifted her skirt, revealing her long legs in black stockings and the shimmering edge of her lace panties across her buttocks.
Professor McGonagall's breathing grew rapid, her fingers gripping the document so hard her knuckles turned white.
"Crystal Puppets?" McGonagall's voice was trembling.
"And those... special toys." Jerry's finger hooked the edge of her panties, pulling them slowly downward.
He pulled back the edge of her stockings, exposing her already wet private parts.
Professor McGonagall's legs parted instinctively as she leaned forward, bracing her hands on the desk.
The document slipped from her hands, scattering across the tabletop.
Jerry pulled out his giant spear, which was utterly disproportionate to his age.
It pulsed in the air, its tip already seeping transparent fluid.
He gripped the thick shaft and pressed the tip of the spear against McGonagall's wet petals.
"Mmph..." McGonagall let out a suppressed moan, her body shivering slightly.
Jerry didn't enter immediately, but used the tip of the spear to rub back and forth between her folds, smearing her juices everywhere.
He could feel her body shaking and hear her stifled gasps.
"There will be at least a hundred thousand spectators at the Quidditch World Cup."
As Jerry spoke, he thrust his hips forward. The tip of the spear forced its way past her wet petals, slowly submerging inside her.
"AH!"
Professor McGonagall's body jerked violently, her fingers digging deathly tight into the wood grain of the desk.
The sensation of being propped open was overwhelming.
Even though McGonagall was already soaking wet, Jerry's spear was simply too thick; the feeling of being filled inch by inch left her nearly breathless.
Jerry gripped her waist, slowly and firmly burying his spear completely within her.
He could feel the warm, tight flesh-walls of her interior wrapping around him tightly, every contraction bringing an ultimate surge of pleasure.
"A hundred thousand people..."
McGonagall repeated breathlessly, her voice fragmented by the stimulation from below. "You want to... promote those things... in front of so many people?"
"Not just promote." Jerry began to move slowly, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in to the very hilt. The squelch, squelch water sounds were exceptionally clear in the quiet office.
Professor McGonagall's body swayed back and forth with his movements, her breasts heaving beneath her sheer blouse, her nipples hard as pebbles propping up the fabric.
"I want every witch to know that the Crystal Puppet Workshop doesn't just make ordinary magical items, but also... more private products." Jerry accelerated, his spear thrusting frantically within her, crushing over her sensitive spots with every move.
"Mmh... ah... but..." McGonagall could no longer form a complete sentence; her body had completely surrendered to this primal ecstasy.
"Furthermore, I want to use this opportunity to expand 'Forbidden Eden'."
Jerry leaned down, whispering in her ear: "To let more witches who suppress themselves know that there is a place where they can see everything they desire."
Jerry's hand reached around to the front, kneading McGonagall's massive breasts through her dress.
Professor McGonagall's body shook violently; she could feel an orgasm approaching.
"You... you're mad..." McGonagall gasped, but her body honestly catered to his every impact.
"They're going to love it!"
"AHHHH!" McGonagall couldn't hold it back anymore; she let out a high-pitched cry as her body went into violent spasms. A large amount of fluid erupted from her passage, flowing down her thighs and forming a puddle on the floor.
Jerry did not stop; he continued to thrust in and out, extending Minerva's climax to its limit.
He could feel the walls within McGonagall contracting manically, as if trying to suck Jerry's spear in completely.
"The Quidditch World Cup..."
Jerry spoke between pants: "Many noble ladies from pure-blood families will be there, as well as many war-witches who haven't returned from the front in years...
On the surface, they are all so noble and elegant, but in private... who really knows?"
McGonagall was too weak to respond, lying prone on the desk and letting Jerry ride her from behind.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes unfocused, and saliva trailed from her mouth—she looked utterly lost to the world.
"I will set up magic mirror display points around the stadium that only women can see." Jerry continued outlining his plan while picking up the pace. "They will see some... teasers.
Just like the one I showed you."
"And then, they will grow curious. They'll want to see the full version."
His voice grew excited. "They will find ways to contact me, buy the magic mirrors, and become members of Forbidden Eden."
Professor McGonagall's body began to shake again; a second climax was brewing.
"And those Crystal Puppets and sex toys will become their... collectibles." Jerry gave several fierce thrusts; he was also reaching his limit.
"Professor, what do you think of the plan?" he asked, panting.
McGonagall was unable to think; she could only emit broken moans. Her body was completely governed by pleasure; her reason had long since been cast to the wind.
Jerry felt his ejaculation approaching. He sped up, every thrust slamming hard against her cervix.
The squelch-squelch water sounds grew louder, echoing in the office along with their gasps and moans.
"I'm... coming..."
Jerry let out a low growl, burying his spear to the hilt before beginning his release.
The two remained in their joined state, breathing heavily.
Jerry's spear remained buried inside McGonagall, twitching occasionally.
After a long while, Jerry slowly withdrew the spear.
A massive amount of liquid mixed with cum flowed from McGonagall's passage, trickling down her thighs and forming a thick puddle on the floor.
McGonagall slumped weakly on the desk, her body still trembling slightly, her passage opening and closing as fluids continued to leak out.
Jerry tidied his clothes and picked up the sponsorship application from the desk.
"So, Professor, do you think the plan is feasible?"
He asked with a smile, as if nothing had just happened.
It took McGonagall a long time to recover some strength. She stood up tremblingly, feeling a wave of emptiness and soreness in her lower half.
Her legs were still weak; she had to lean on the desk to stay upright.
"You... you bastard brat..."
She gasped, but there was no anger in her tone anymore, only a hint of helplessness and... expectation.
Professor McGonagall reached out, using her fingertip to dab a bit of the mixed fluid from her inner thigh, then unhesitatingly put it in her mouth.
Her tongue curled over her fingertip, tasting the musky, salty, yet slightly sweet flavor—a mix of Jerry's cum and her own juices.
McGonagall closed her eyes, carefully savoring the taste, a satisfied flush appearing on her face.
"That is a massive amount of Galleons," McGonagall said, opening her eyes and looking at the application on the desk.
Her voice regained some of its professional sternness, even though her current appearance—messy hair, flushed cheeks, and stockings soaked in fluids—held no majesty at all.
She knew very well what the sponsorship fees for the Quidditch World Cup were.
It was not a small sum.
As far as she knew, the lowest-tier pitch-side advertising spot cost five thousand Galleons per match.
And if one wanted to set up a display point around the stadium for a more prominent position, the cost would at least triple or even increase tenfold.
Not to mention appearing in a heavyweight match like the finals; that cost would be astronomical.
"It will take at least two hundred thousand Galleons to start," McGonagall said. "And that's just the basic sponsorship package.
If you want exposure across multiple matches and a display point in the VIP area, the fee..."
Jerry shrugged, wearing a nonchalant smile.
"I already have ideas, Professor."
Jerry's tone was light, as if two hundred thousand Galleons were a mere pittance to him. "The profits from the Crystal Puppet Workshop have been quite good these past few months, especially the... custom-ordered products.
Many ladies from pure-blood families are regular customers.
And of course, I have another way to get money."
Jerry walked over to McGonagall and gave her still-trembling buttocks a slap, making her body jerk and sending another trickle of fluid from her passage.
"Besides, this investment will pay for itself quickly.
Think about the audience of the Quidditch World Cup—those rich, idle noblewomen. They are my target customers.
Once they see those teasers, see what Forbidden Eden has to offer..."
Just then, the sound of a rapid bell rang out from not far away.
It was the Hogwarts alarm bell, which only rang when an emergency occurred on campus that required the professors' immediate attention.
Professor McGonagall's expression changed instantly. Ignoring the fluids still leaking from her lower half, she hurriedly tidied her clothes.
She gave Jerry a fierce glare, her eyes full of irritation and reproach.
"Was this your doing again?" McGonagall asked through gritted teeth.
Jerry gave an embarrassed laugh and scratched his head.
"Can't be helped, Professor."
Jerry spread his hands, looking innocent. "Gryffindor's score is just too high—nearly ninety points above Slytherin.
I have to make contingency plans to prevent Dumbledore from pulling some stunt at the end of the term, like Harry Potter saving the Philosopher's Stone and getting a hundred points for Gryffindor."
Jerry's tone held a hint of triumph; he was clearly pleased with his layout.
"So, I arranged a few... small accidents.
No one will... well, they shouldn't... uh... some people might get hurt, Professor.
But at most, it's just enough trouble to get Gryffindor points deducted.
I'm sure the Hogwarts infirmary can make it so the little wizards don't have to attend class with black eyes!"
McGonagall took a deep breath, trying hard to suppress the urge to beat this little bastard.
She knew Jerry was right—Dumbledore did intend to grant Gryffindor a massive amount of points at the end of the term, and the reasons were always so high-sounding it even made her, the Head of Gryffindor, a bit unhappy.
If preparations weren't made in advance, Slytherin would truly lose the House Cup this year.
But that didn't mean she could accept Jerry's unscrupulous methods.
"You'd better pray I don't catch you in the act," McGonagall warned, walking quickly toward the door.
Her legs were still weak, making her gait somewhat unnatural.
After a few steps, she stopped abruptly.
The sticky fluid was still seeping from her inner thighs, soaking her stockings and even beginning to trickle down her calves.
The sensation was intolerable, and more importantly, Professor McGonagall could not appear before the students in such a wretched state.
Professor McGonagall turned back sharply, looking at Jerry with an expressionless face.
Then, without hesitation, she bent down and reached beneath her skirt.
Professor McGonagall's fingers hooked the edge of her lace panties—already soaked through with cum and juices—and yanked them off.
The soaked fabric hit the floor with a soft splat as it slid from between her long legs.
Next, McGonagall removed the equally soaked black stockings, her movements crisp and efficient, showing not a hint of shyness.
She tossed the bundle of wet fabric, hitting Jerry square in the face.
Jerry caught them, his fingertips touching the cold, sticky cloth that still held the warmth of McGonagall's body and the fluids he had pumped into her.
The scent of female musk mixed with the smell of cum instantly rushed into his nostrils.
McGonagall ignored him and walked toward an oak cabinet in the corner of the office.
She pulled open a drawer and took out an exquisitely shaped crystal anal plug—one of the "gifts" Jerry had given her previously.
Professor McGonagall lifted one leg, resting her toes on the edge of a chair. Her skirt fell away, revealing her recently ravaged private parts.
The area was still pulsing slightly, her pink passage swollen from the fucking, with thick fluids still oozing out and trickling down her fair thighs.
Professor McGonagall pressed the anal plug against the leaking passage and unhesitatingly shoved it inside.
"Mmph..." McGonagall let out a soft grunt, her brow furrowing.
The plug was quite large. Even though her body had been thoroughly developed by Jerry, the sudden sensation of being filled by a cold foreign object was still uncomfortable.
But soon, that discomfort was replaced by a strange sense of fullness.
The plug firmly blocked her passage, sealing all of Jerry's fluids inside her.
McGonagall took a fresh pair of black lace panties and a matching pair of stockings from the drawer.
She donned the panties and then sat on the edge of the chair, methodically pulling the stockings over her long, beautiful legs.
The fabric slid over her ankles, calves, and knees, finally wrapping around her full upper thighs.
Only then did Professor McGonagall turn back and glare fiercely at Jerry.
"Wash them clean for me." McGonagall's voice was cold and majestic, her finger pointing at the bundle of wet panties and stockings in Jerry's hand. "If they aren't clean, I'll shove them all into your mouth, you bastard brat!"
Professor McGonagall's high heels clicked sharply against the floor as she vanished through the office door.
Jerry stood there, clutching the wet bundle that still held the warmth of McGonagall's body.
At the tips of the toes, the stockings were even emitting a faint white steam from being soaked in sweat.
He brought them to his nose and took a deep breath. The intense female scent made his meat-root lift its head again.
Jerry smiled and stuffed the panties and stockings into his pocket.
Wash them clean?
He couldn't bear to.
Jerry walked to the window, looking out at Hogwarts Castle.
In the distance, he could see several professors rushing toward a specific area, clearly going to handle the "small accidents" Malfoy had arranged.
Perfect, he had class too!
Today was—Defense Against the Dark Arts (Dueling Class)!