Just as Jerry was extracting Athena's Divine Persona from her body.
In the lower level of the Alchemy Workshop, under the glow of the dark orange wall lamps, Athena's body looked like an unfurled parchment scroll.
Her skin no longer reflected any divine luster; instead, dense golden tattoos emerged.
Those tattoos were like flowing gold, tightly woven into every inch of her exposed skin from her neck to her toes, each symbol bearing an ancient mark of enslavement.
The perfect physique she once took pride in had now completely devolved into a piece of merchandise—marked, inscribed, and stripped of all sanctity.
Jerry flipped Athena's body over.
Her naked spine faced upward, her buttocks arched toward the ceiling, her legs kneeling powerlessly on the cold stone steps.
His thick meat-root, which had been holding its head high since moments ago, now pressed directly above the cleft of Athena's buttocks.
Its tip throbbed slightly, as if sensing the massive influx of energy about to come.
The process of stripping the Godhood was not as violent as expected. No explosions, no wails.
Only an almost eerie silence.
Jerry's hands slid upward from Athena's back, following the line of her thickest vertebrae.
His fingertips were as precise as a surgical scalpel, bypassing the hideous golden marks and finally resting at the nape of Athena's neck—the weakest node where the Godhood linked to the body.
Hiss...
An extremely faint sound, like the air itself being torn.
Ice-blue light flared from Jerry's fingertips.
The radiance penetrated the skin of Athena's nape, reaching the deepest nerve bundles and the energy center of her Divine Persona.
Athena's body tensed violently, her legs trembling with instinctive spasms, her buttocks clamping tightly against Jerry's primed meat-root.
A nearly imperceptible low growl escaped her mouth; golden divine blood meandered from her nostrils, tracing a path across her face like tears of blood.
Something was being forcibly torn from her body.
It wasn't a physical entity, but rather a condensation of the spiritual and vital planes.
A blurry, rainbow-colored halo slowly emerged from beneath the skin of Athena's nape, guided by Jerry's fingertips.
It carried the multicolored brilliance of cosmic stars, while simultaneously appearing like a mass of liquid thought that had not yet fully solidified.
Every one of Athena's tremors was accompanied by the rapid drainage of the divine power within her.
Deprived of divine nourishment, the brilliant luster of the golden tattoos began to dim; the gold faded from the surface, revealing a deeper, dark-brown shade resembling scorched skin.
Athena's skin also began to change; the tightness and elasticity belonging to a deity receded rapidly, replaced by the sagging and roughness of a mortal.
As the Godhood was stripped away, Athena's body also began to shrink.
From her previous peak-human height of five-foot-nine, she slowly contracted.
Her muscles no longer bulged, her bones became slender, and her entire frame transformed into a smaller, more fragile mortal state.
"Ah... ah..."
The sounds coming from Athena's mouth were no longer the moans of a goddess, but the purely mortal whimpers caused by extreme agony.
The divine blood within Athena's body accelerated its solidification, turning into mortal blood, and her vascular network grew more fragile as the Godhood vanished.
Tiny blood vessels burst beneath her fair skin, leaving strings of purple bruises where the golden tattoos had once been.
In every spasm, Athena's buttocks would unconsciously thrust backward, clamping the tip of Jerry's meat-root with desperate force.
Her tunnel had been dilated to the limit during the previous toying, yet now it began to rapidly constrict due to the loss of divine power.
The massive object was encased within her, every squirming movement bringing an extreme degree of grinding friction.
"Mmh... hah..."
His fluids were squeezed out, staining the secretions and blood Athena left on the steps, mixing into a thicker, more mottled white liquid.
Meanwhile, in the clubroom above the Alchemy Workshop.
Aurora looked at Hermione with a touch of exhaustion.
Although her blue eyes betrayed an unmistakable weariness, the underlying sharpness and tenacity remained undiminished.
Golden strands of hair swayed slightly beside her cheeks. Her petite, girlish figure seemed increasingly frail, yet the aura forged by countless battles made Hermione barely dare to breathe in her presence.
Hermione stood with her hands clasped in front of her, her fingertips unconsciously twisting the hem of her school skirt.
Her brown eyes were filled with curiosity and awe, as well as an unease suppressed by Aurora's presence.
It wasn't the first time she had seen Aurora, but she had never imagined that Aurora's aura at close range would be this powerful—powerful enough to make her even more careful with her breathing.
"Sit."
Aurora's voice was low and soft, carrying a trace of unquestionable fatigue. She pointed toward a nearby chair.
Hermione sat down cautiously, her gaze sweeping tentatively over Aurora's face.
She noticed that Aurora's complexion was indeed pale and her lips had a bluish tint, but her eyes were exceptionally bright, like two blue gemstones set in a starlit sky.
"You don't need to be so nervous."
Aurora raised her right hand, her long fingers gently brushing a golden lock from her forehead.
Her movements were slow, carrying a sense of lethargy brought on by deep exhaustion.
"I won't do anything to you."
Hermione took a deep breath, trying to relax her taut nerves.
Her gaze swept past Aurora's trench coat, torn from spatial travel, and landed on Aurora's slightly pale hands.
Those were hands that had held wands and weapons—slender and powerful, yet now appearing exceptionally soft.
"Jerry says you are a genius."
Aurora said suddenly.
Her blue eyes looked straight at Hermione, her gaze deep, as if capable of seeing through the secrets in the depths of a soul.
Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly, and she awkwardly averted her gaze from Aurora.
"I... I just work harder than others."
Aurora let out a light chuckle, a sound carrying a hint of irony and a touch of understanding.
"A genius never needs to say they work harder than others.
Hard work is merely the modest excuse of the gifted."
Aurora paused, then raised her left hand, gently ruffling the top of Hermione's head.
That intimate gesture made Hermione's body stiffen suddenly, though she did not resist.
Aurora's palm was warm and dry, carrying a faint scent of blood, yet it was surprisingly reassuring.
"You are very smart.
Smarter than most wizards.
Your thirst for knowledge also far exceeds that of common people."
Aurora's hand slid down from the top of Hermione's head, resting on her right shoulder.
Her fingers tapped lightly against Hermione's shoulder blade. That seemingly casual touch made Hermione's body generate a subtle heat.
"But have you ever thought that the power of knowledge shouldn't be limited to spells in books or potion recipes?"
Hermione's eyebrows furrowed slightly as she looked up, meeting Aurora's eyes.
"Then... what is it?"
The corner of Aurora's mouth curved into a mysterious smile.
"It is change. It is creation. It is the breaking of all boundaries."
Her fingers slid down from Hermione's shoulder, following her arm, and gently gripped her hand.
Aurora's skin was finer and colder than Hermione's, but her fingertips carried an indescribable warmth.
That touch, a mixture of ice and fire, made Hermione's heart rate accelerate violently.
"Hermione, how much do you know about the Power of the World?"
Aurora's question was soft, but it hit like a heavy bomb, creating an explosion in Hermione's mind.
Hermione had never heard the concept of "the Power of the World"; her understanding of power remained within the scope of magical incantations.
"I... I don't know."
"You do know."
Aurora's voice carried a hint of guidance.
"You just haven't realized it yet."
Her fingers gently rubbed against Hermione's fingertips.
Hermione felt her body softening bit by bit, starting from her fingertips. A strange and unfamiliar desire began to sprout quietly within her.
"I have looked at several of your exams.
Your grades are excellent.
Your mastery of theoretical knowledge already exceeds the grade level you are currently in."
Aurora continued, her blue eyes shimmering with a light of appreciation.
"You are good at learning, good at analyzing, and good at summarizing."
Aurora's other hand also gripped Hermione's, their palms facing each other with fingers interlaced.
Aurora's palms were dry and warm, emitting a strange power that made Hermione's own palms begin to heat up.
"But true power is not simple repetition or imitation.
It is the creation of your own unique magic."
Aurora's body leaned forward slightly.
Her golden hair brushed past Hermione's ear, bringing a faint fragrance.
Her breath, carrying her unique scent, drifted softly yet firmly across Hermione's cheek.
"Hermione, are you willing to learn?"
Aurora's blue eyes stared intently at Hermione, her gaze so deep it seemed to pull Hermione's soul inside.
Hermione's throat bobbed.
Her heart hammered like a drum, her ears filled only with Aurora's gentle and seductive voice and the strange temperature coming from her palms.
She felt her body burning, an unfamiliar fire raging inside her, making her crave to touch a deeper level of the magical world.
"I... I am willing."
Her voice was small, but firm.
Aurora gave a satisfied smile.
She released Hermione's hands and instead raised hers to gently caress Hermione's cheek.
Her fingers were cold and soft, stroking across Hermione's hot skin and bringing a strange sensation of pleasure.
"Good."
Aurora's voice carried the laziness of a victor.
"In the coming days, I will teach you things no one has ever taught you before.
Things... that are true magic, which only a few can touch."
Her fingertips rested on Hermione's chin.
"But this requires you to give everything."
Aurora's blue eyes looked downward, in the direction where Jerry was.
Her gaze held a trace of exhaustion, a hint of remembrance, and a deeply hidden sorrow.
She had successfully avenged her deceased illegitimate daughter.
Zeus had already fallen into a "slumber," and there was no longer any man or god in this world who could threaten her life or everything she held dear.
She had fulfilled all her missions.
Everything she could do for her daughter who died young, Aurora had achieved.
With the time she had left, she wanted to enjoy life properly.
To enjoy the comfort and tranquility belonging to mortals that she had never experienced.
Of course, Aurora was also looking for someone to inherit her legacy.
A young person with unparalleled talent and a strong craving for magic.
Aurora had her sights on Hermione.
She was well aware that her remaining time was limited.
Although she knew many methods to extend life, and could even merge her life into Jerry's life cycle to extend it several times over...
She no longer intended to keep toying with her weary body.
What she sought was to finish the final stretch of her journey in peace and satisfaction.
Her gaze fell back onto Hermione's face.
Her fingers gently stroked Hermione's soft cheeks, from her chin to the corners of her lips, then to her eyelids.
"Are you ready to begin your new life, Hermione?"
Aurora's voice was very soft, yet it carried a power capable of changing Hermione's life.
Hermione felt her body heating up, her heart racing, and a craving for unknown power burning within her.
"Yes, Madam Aurora, I am ready."
Hermione's voice carried a slight tremor, but it was filled with determination and expectation.
Jerry's palm made a phantom grip in the air.
That mass of Godhood energy stripped from Athena, presenting a rainbow-colored halo, hovered above his palm like a de-shelled light-heart that was still pulsing.
The surface of the halo was swirled with countless fine runes—the physical manifestation of the concept of "Wisdom."
Every pulse released an extremely faint but pure wave of thought into the surrounding space.
Hera stood before Jerry.
She still wore that gown of light-fabric, the translucent material shimmering with a pale-golden glow in the dim light of the Alchemy Workshop.
She extended her right hand, palm up, her five slender fingers spread slightly.
Jerry flipped his palm.
The mass of Godhood energy fell into Hera's palm.
Vroom.
A dull, low-frequency vibration, like a piece of heavy machinery starting up, radiated from Hera's palm.
Her golden pupils contracted sharply the moment the Godhood energy touched her skin, then expanded rapidly as the silver vortices in her irises spun to the absolute limit.
"Enough."
Hera's voice sounded like an echo from a vast distance.
She said nothing more. Dense golden runes began to emerge around her body, arranging themselves in the air into a circular array about three meters in diameter.
At the center of the array was a slowly rotating, black-hole-like spatial rift.
The edges of the rift flickered with unstable electrical arcs, and the interior was a chaotic grey void that was impossible to see through.
It was the passage leading directly to the folded space where the Pantheon resided.
Hera didn't spare even a glance at the unconscious Athena sprawled on the steps.
Her golden eyes swept over Jerry's face one last time, the corner of her mouth curling into a microscopic arc—a farewell expression carrying the specific arrogance of a god, as if to say, "until we meet again."
Then she stepped forward.
Her bare toes stepped into the rotating spatial rift.
The instant she entered the rift, her silhouette seemed to warp as if pulled by some force, then she vanished completely into that chaotic grey void.
Zzzt—snap!
The rift closed rapidly after Hera fully entered.
The golden runic array seemed to be recalled in reverse, contracting rapidly from the outside in, finally leaving a blinding flash of white light in the air before being completely annihilated, disappearing without a trace.
The stairwell of the Alchemy Workshop returned to gloom and silence.
Jerry tilted his head, looking at where the passage had vanished.
Just a second before the passage fully closed, his sensory network had caught an extremely violent, explosive surge of magical fluctuation.
That fluctuation was like a massive concentration of energy being released in a very short time, leaving a fierce vibration in the spatial structure.
They had already engaged over there.
Clearly, the gods still clinging to life in the Pantheon were not waiting to die.
But Jerry was not worried about Hera's safety.
If Hera dared to go alone, it meant she had sufficient confidence.
Furthermore, Hera was not entirely without allies within the Pantheon.
The marginalized deities oppressed by the Olympian system over the past millennia, the secondary gods long dissatisfied with Zeus's rule, and even those forgotten ancient entities could all be part of the foundation and confidants Hera had secretly cultivated.
Hera was never just a trophy wife clinging to her husband's power. She was the Queen of the Gods. One of the actual wielders of power.
Jerry withdrew his gaze and turned around.
His eyes fell on Athena, who was sprawled on the steps.
The former Goddess of Wisdom now lay in an extremely pathetic posture, slumped on the cold granite steps.
Her body was covered in blue-purple bruises and the remnants of golden tattoos; those symbols that once represented divine glory had now turned into dim, brown marks that looked like scorched skin.
Her breathing was weak but steady. Having lost the support of Godhood energy, she had completely become a mortal body.
Her skin no longer glowed, her muscles were no longer tight, and even that ash-blonde hair that once looked like flowing metal now appeared dry and dim, like withered grass that had lost its luster.
Jerry squatted down.
He extended his right hand and gently patted Athena's cheek with his palm.
Smack. Smack.
The force was light, carrying no intent of punishment, looking more like an act of soothing.
"Rest well here."
His voice was low and calm.
"When things are finished on Hera's end, I will fulfill my promise.
I will let you live. Live as an ordinary human."
Athena did not respond. She remained in a deep state of unconsciousness, only her eyelids fluttering slightly when Jerry patted her cheek.
Jerry stood up.
He adjusted his sweatpants; that meat-root, which had been in a semi-erect state since a moment ago, cast a thick shadow beneath the fabric.
He walked up the stairs, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty stairwell, step by step, steady and rhythmic.
He pushed open the iron door to the upper level of the Alchemy Workshop.
A gust of warm air hit him, carrying the characteristic herbal fragrance of alchemical potions and the faint scent of ozone generated by the magical arrays.
As soon as Jerry entered the room, he saw Aurora and Hermione.
They were walking in from the door on the opposite side. Aurora was in the lead, with Hermione following behind, holding several pieces of material that looked like parchment documents.
Aurora's face was still strikingly pale.
That pallor was not ordinary anemia or weakness, but a greyish decay seeping from deep within her skin, as if her life force were being slowly drained by something.
Her lips were almost colorless, and faint blue shadows had emerged under her eyes; her entire being looked as if she had just endured a long, arduous battle that had nearly exhausted all her energy.
Jerry's eyes narrowed.
His sensory capabilities were deployed to the absolute limit in that instant; fine mana probes seeped from the surface of his skin, wordlessly coiling around Aurora's body.
The damage was even more severe than he had imagined.
It wasn't just physical trauma. Those hundred Forbidden Spells released in the Pantheon hadn't just consumed her mana; they had left countless fine cracks in the very structure of her soul.
Her life essence—the energy core that should appear as a bright orange in an ordinary person—was currently dimmed to a near-grey level.
It looked like embers that had burnt out.
"You look terrible."
Jerry spoke bluntly.
Aurora, however, merely gave a languid smile.
The upward curve of her lips was slight, but that smile carried a sense of relief and liberation. She raised her hand, tucking a few stray golden strands of hair behind her ear.
That movement made Jerry notice a detail.
On Aurora's face, there were extremely fine wrinkles that were nearly impossible to detect without careful observation.
At the corners of her eyes. At the corners of her mouth.
Those wrinkles were as shallow as ripples on water blown by a breeze, but they truly existed. Aurora had always maintained the appearance of a young girl, but that constant state seemed to have been broken. Her body was beginning to "grow" at an extremely slow but irreversible pace.
Or rather, she was beginning to age.
"I'm fine."
Aurora's voice was lower than usual, and her speaking speed had slowed, like a weary traveler who had finally found a station to rest.
"Just a bit tired. I'll be fine after a nap."
She walked to an armchair in the center of the room, her body nearly "sinking" into the soft cushion. Her head rested against the back, her blue eyes half-closed, long eyelashes casting two shadows on her pale cheeks.
"I plan to stay at Hogwarts for a while."
She didn't open her eyes; only her lips moved.
"Specifically to teach Hermione. Until she masters all my exclusive spells."
Jerry leaned against the nearby table, arms crossed over his chest.
"And then?"
"And then... I'll return to North America."
Aurora's voice grew lighter, as if she were about to fall asleep.
"Back to my manor, to plant flowers, drink tea, and watch the sunset. To do things I never had time for before."
Jerry looked at her pale face.
"Do you need my help?"
He meant using his alchemy, or the divine power left by Hera, to repair her damaged life essence.
Aurora shook her head.
The movement was slow, as if refusing an unnecessary handout.
"No need, Jerry."
She opened her eyes, her blue pupils reflecting Jerry's face.
"Some wounds cannot be healed. Some prices must be paid. I have done what I needed to do. Now, I only want to spend the rest of my days in peace."
Her gaze turned toward Hermione, who was standing aside.
"This child is very talented. More talented than I imagined. I will teach her everything I know. In exchange, you must guarantee her safety."
Jerry gave a nod.
"Deal."
Aurora revealed a satisfied smile and then closed her eyes again.
This time, her breathing quickly became long and steady, falling into a true sleep.
Jerry turned to Hermione.
"Take her to the lounge above the Alchemy Workshop. There are beds there, and protective arrays."
Hermione nodded.
She placed the parchment documents in her hand on the table and then walked over to Aurora's armchair.
She didn't try to wake Aurora, but instead pulled her wand from her pocket and gave it a gentle wave.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
Aurora's body rose slowly under the effect of the Levitation Charm, floating in the air like a feather. Hermione carefully controlled the direction of the float, guiding Aurora's body toward the staircase on the other side of the room.
Just as she was about to leave the room, she stopped.
"Jerry."
She looked back, her brown eyes carrying hesitation.
"The Padma twins are looking for you. They're waiting in the clubroom outside. It seems like something urgent."
Jerry's eyebrow twitched.
"Padma?"
"Yes. They look very anxious. Their complexions are terrible."
After Hermione finished, she continued guiding Aurora's body up the stairs.
Jerry stood in place, watching them disappear around the bend of the staircase.
Then he turned and pushed open the door leading to the clubroom through the Floo Network.
The clubroom was a room of about fifty square meters, with the flags of the four Hogwarts houses hanging on the walls, and several long tables and padded chairs in the center.
A small fireplace was in the corner of the room, the fire burning brightly, making the whole room warm and cozy.
The Padma twins were standing right by the fireplace.
Their dark brown hair was draped over their shoulders, the ends slightly curled.
Their skin was fair, with a healthy, ruddy beige tone. Their features were exquisite and three-dimensional, with the soft charm unique to young girls in their eyes.
At this moment, panic and fear were written all over both their faces.
Padma gripped her sister's arm tightly, her fingers turning white from the force. Petil's eyes were red, as if she had just cried, with tear tracks still undried around her eyes. Their bodies were trembling slightly, as if shrouded by some invisible terror.
The moment Jerry walked into the room, both of them turned their heads simultaneously.
"Jerry!"
Padma's voice carried a sob.
She almost rushed over, her steps stumbling, nearly tripping over her own robes. Petil followed closely behind, and both of them lunged in front of Jerry.
"Something happened! Jerry! Something huge happened!"
Petil's voice was also trembling.
"Our family... something happened to our family!"
Jerry stood in place, letting them both grab his arms.
His expression didn't change much, only his brow furrowed slightly.
"Don't panic. Speak slowly."
Padma tried hard to steady her breathing, but her chest still heaved violently, and tears kept pouring from her eyes.
"A coup... a coup happened within the family."
Her voice was intermittent.
"Our uncle... our father's younger brother... he stormed the manor with his men. He seized control of all the guards. He... he imprisoned Mother!"
"Imprisoned Madam Padma?"
Jerry's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Because... because of the Quidditch World Cup."
Petil took over the conversation, her voice slightly more stable than her sister's, but still carrying obvious fear.
"Uncle has always opposed Mother betting the family business on the production of World Cup derivatives.
He said the risk was too great.
But Mother insisted... because it was your investment, Jerry. We trust your judgment."
Her tears surged out again.
"Now, before the World Cup has even started, Uncle staged a coup.
He says Mother is leading the family to a dead end. He wants to sell all the factories... sell them to someone else!"
Jerry's face darkened at this moment.
The factories controlled by the Padma family were the most important derivative production plants for the Quidditch World Cup Tournament. From commemorative badges to magical telescopes, from team scarves to model broomsticks, almost all officially licensed merchandise came from the Padma family's assembly lines.
Jerry had invested hundreds of thousands of gold Galleons in the Padma family.
That was currently his largest single investment.
If the factories were sold or the production chain was broken, that investment would be completely flushed down the drain.
A huge loss.
"Uncle says Mother is no longer fit to lead the family.
He wants to send her to a sanatorium in another world... in reality, it's house arrest!
He also wants to marry the two of us off... to his business partner's son... to trade for alliances and support!"
Her voice became shrill when she said "marry off."
"We don't want to! Jerry! We don't want to marry those people! We... we belong to you!"
Padma also nodded vigorously.
"Yes! Jerry! You are our Master! We only belong to you!"
Both their bodies pressed against him.
Padma buried her face in Jerry's chest, her tears quickly soaking a patch of his hoodie's front. Petil hugged Jerry's waist from behind, her face pressed against his back, her whole body clinging tightly to his.
Jerry looked down at Padma buried in his chest.
Her hair was soft, emitting a faint scent of shampoo. Her body was tense, trembling constantly from crying. Her hands gripped the hem of Jerry's hoodie so hard her knuckles were white.
He felt Petil behind him as well.
Her breasts pressed against his back, the soft orbs transmitting a warm touch through two layers of fabric. Her breathing was rapid and disordered, puffing against his back with a trace of damp heat.
Jerry sighed.
"Alright. Stop crying."
His voice was calm.
"Since you are mine, I won't let you be married to anyone else."
Padma looked up, her eyes misty with tears.
"Really?"
"Really."
Jerry reached out and gently wiped the tear tracks from her face with his thumb.
"Where is your mother?"
"In... in the manor basement. Uncle locked her there. Guards are watching her."
"How many people in the manor support your uncle?"
"About... about thirty. All his own private soldiers. The family's regular guards have been controlled or dispersed by him."
Jerry nodded.
"Thirty. Not many."
He raised his hand and gently ruffled the top of Padma's head.
"You two wait here first. I'll go handle this."
"No! Jerry! We want to go with you!"
Petil poked her head out from behind him, her eyes red, but with determination in her gaze.
"We want to see Mother rescued with our own eyes!"
Jerry looked at the two of them.
The fear on their faces had not fully dissipated, but there was an extra measure of trust and reliance on him in their eyes. That trust was unreserved, a complete reliance that surrendered everything they had to him.
The corner of Jerry's mouth moved slightly.
"Fine. Then we go together."
He turned, heading toward the other side of the room.
"But before that..."
He stopped his steps and looked back at the twins standing there.
"Shouldn't you thank me first?"
Padma and Petil exchanged a look.
They immediately understood Jerry's meaning.
Both of them knelt down simultaneously.
Their knees landed on the soft carpet with an extremely faint thud. They spread their legs, kneeling before Jerry in a symmetrical, mirror-like posture.
Padma's hand reached tremblingly for the waistband of Jerry's sweatpants.
Her fingers hooked the edge of the elastic cord and then slowly pulled downward.
Rustle...
The sound of fabric friction was exceptionally clear in the quiet room.
That thing sprang out from the restraint of the sweatpants.
It was already in a semi-erect state, the dark red glans shimmering under the firelight from the hearth. Several slightly bulging veins were distributed along the shaft, throbbing faintly with Jerry's heartbeat.
Padma's pupils dilated the instant she saw it.
Her breathing stalled for a second.
"So... so big..."
She muttered to herself.
She had seen this thing before during collective club activities, and had even served it with her mouth or hands.
But every time she saw it up close, the impact of its size still left her mind blank.
The length of that thing exceeded her forearm. Its thickness was a full circle wider than her wrist.
Petil also leaned in from the other side.
Her face was pressed against Padma's cheek, both of them looking at the giant object belonging to their Master.
"Master..."
Petil's voice was very light, as if afraid of disturbing something.
"May we...?"
Jerry didn't speak, but simply placed his hand on the top of Padma's head and gave a gentle downward press.
That was a signal of silent consent.
Padma's head lowered.
Her lips parted, and her tongue poked out from her mouth, gently licking the very tip of the glans.
"Mmh..."
A low, deep grunt escaped Jerry's throat.
That lick was very light, like a feather brushing the surface of the skin. But the sensitive nerves at the tip still captured that wet, warm, and soft touch, converting it into a signal of pleasure that conducted up his spine.
Padma's tongue began to move more boldly.
She first used the tip of her tongue to draw a circle along the edge of the coronal sulcus, then licked across the urethral slit, and finally licked the entire surface of the glans. Her saliva formed a thin film of water on the surface of the tip, reflecting light under the fire.
Petil wasn't idle either.
Her lips pressed against the side of the shaft, starting from below the glans and kissing and licking all the way down. Her tongue left wet trails on the skin of the shaft, which felt slightly cool in the air, bringing a stimulating sensation.
Chu. Chu. Chu.
The sound of oral suction began to ring out.
Padma tried to take the head into her mouth. But the thing was simply too large; even with her mouth opened to the limit, she could only barely stuff the first third of the glans inside. Her cheeks were stretched taut and bulging, her lips clamping tightly around the surface of the shaft.
"Mmh... mmh-mmh..."
Muffled sounds came from her throat.
Her tongue worked hard within the limited space of her mouth, licking the underside of the glans. Saliva secreted constantly, overflowing from the corners of her mouth and dripping down her chin onto her school robes.
Petil focused on the lower half of the shaft.
Both her hands gripped the base of the thing—her two hands combined could not fully encircle it—and began to stroke it up and down. Her movements were gentle, like caressing a precious work of art.
"Master... so hard... so hot..."
She whispered as she stroked.
"Inside... it feels like there's so much in there..."
Jerry leaned back against the table behind him, hands braced at his sides, letting the sisters busy themselves between his legs.
His gaze fell upon the two of them.
They knelt on the carpet, the hems of their school robes spread out like two blooming flowers. Their heads were buried in his crotch, one on each side, cooperating in perfect harmony. Their hair swayed gently with their movements, strands brushing against the skin of his thighs, bringing an itchy, tingling sensation.
"Mmh..."
He grunted again.
A contraction came from deep within Padma's throat. She tried to swallow the thing deeper, but her esophagus clearly couldn't handle that kind of size. She gagged slightly, tears forced out of her eyes, but she didn't stop, only pulling out a little before continuing to lick and suck.
Slurp. Slurp.
The wet sounds became louder and louder.
Petil's hands accelerated the speed of her stroking. Her fingers slid rapidly over the surface of the shaft, saliva and pre-cum mixing together to form a slick lubricant.
"Master... is it coming out?"
Petil looked up, using those wet eyes to gaze at Jerry.
Jerry didn't answer.
He simply placed his hand on the back of Padma's head and pressed down firmly.
"Ngh!"
Padma was nearly choked by that press, but she immediately understood Jerry's intent. Her throat relaxed, trying hard to endure the ravaging of the thing in her mouth.
The next second.
"Ugh—!"
Jerry's waist and abdomen suddenly tensed.
His meat-root throbbed violently several times under the pincer attack of the sisters, and then a thick, scalding liquid erupted from his meatus.
"Glug... glug..."
Padma's throat was filled by the surge of liquid.
Her eyes bulged, her sockets filled with tears. She tried hard to swallow, but the volume of the liquid was simply too much, and it quickly overflowed from the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin.
"Cough, cough, cough—"
She choked and was forced to spit the thing out of her mouth.
But the eruption continued.
A stream of white liquid hit her face, drawing a long trail from the bridge of her nose to her chin. Then another burst landed in her hair, sticking her dark brown strands together.
Petil immediately leaned over, catching the remaining liquid with her mouth.
Her mouth opened wide, her tongue sticking out as if catching rain. The white liquid landed on her tongue and was then swallowed into her throat.
Glug. Glug.
The sound of her swallowing was clearly audible.
The eruption lasted for about ten seconds.
When Jerry's meat-root finally stopped throbbing, both Padma and Petil had white, mottled marks all over their faces, hair, and clothes.
They looked at each other.
Then Petil reached out, using her finger to scrape a drop of liquid from Padma's face and sent it into her own mouth.
"Sweet..."
She said softly.
Padma also reached out, scraping a drop of liquid from Petil's chin and tasted it in her mouth.
"Mmh... it's Master's taste..."
Satisfied smiles appeared on both their faces.
Those smiles carried a near-pathological, complete submission and worship of Jerry.
Jerry looked down at them.
He reached out, using his finger to gently wipe away a tear from the corner of Padma's eye.
"Clean yourselves up."
His voice was calm.
"Then follow me to the manor."
"Yes, Master."
The sisters answered in unison.
They stood up from the floor and began to tidy their messy clothes and hair. Their movements were fast, but every detail was handled seriously, as if preparing for an important ritual.
Jerry turned, walking toward the door.
His steps were steady and powerful.
The coup of the Padma family.
The investment of hundreds of thousands of gold Galleons.
And those two twin sisters about to be "married off."
These matters, he would solve tonight.
In a very, very thorough manner.