Padma Manor sat upon a desolate moor, covering roughly twelve acres.
The main structure was a three-story stone mansion built in the seventeenth century.
Ivory-white walls were choked with creeping ivy, and chimneys breathed plumes of white smoke into the winter night.
The estate was ringed by a towering hedge of ancient yew trees.
On the inner side of the hedge, runes for anti-Muggle wards were etched, isolating the manor from the non-magical world.
At this moment, the interior of the manor was a scene of utter chaos.
The master bedroom on the second floor had been turned upside down.
The mattress of the four-poster bed had been hacked in half, goose feathers floating in the air like snow.
Wardrobe doors were blasted to splinters by Blasting Curses, robes and evening gowns scattered across the floor.
Jewelry boxes on the vanity were emptied; pearls, rubies, and emerald earrings rolled underfoot.
No one cared for these expensive trinkets.
Three wizards in dark cloaks stood in the master bedroom, wands raised, chanting Revelio.
"Revelio!"
Beams of white light shot from their wand tips, scanning every corner.
Upon contact with surfaces, the light produced a faint blue fluorescence, marking hidden magical items.
The entire room was bathed in blue light.
There was nothing.
"Damn it! Not here either!"
One of the wizards kicked over the vanity stool.
The stool slammed onto the floor with a clatter, four legs pointing to the ceiling.
"The study is cleared! The vault is open! Even the potion storage in the basement has been dug through three times!"
"Where the hell is that cursed key hidden!"
Another wizard burst into the corridor, gasping for breath.
"The third-floor attic is clear. Nothing found. Rajiv says he tried three different Summoning Charms; all failed."
"The Anti-Summoning Charm on that key is at least N.E.W.T. level."
The third wizard furrowed his brow, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Madam Padma's spellcasting level has always been underestimated. Who would have thought an outsider woman who married into the family could hide a key so well that thirty men can't find it after scouring the entire estate."
Hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor.
A short, stout middle-aged wizard with a neatly trimmed black beard walked over quickly.
He wore a meticulously tailored dark green wizard's robe with a silver brooch pinned to his chest.
The brooch was engraved with the Padma family crest—a peacock with spread wings standing atop an open book.
Sanjeev Padma.
The younger brother of the previous head of the Padma family.
The current head (Madam Padma's husband) had passed away three years ago.
Sanjeev had always harbored resentment toward his sister-in-law for monopolizing the family's power.
Tonight, he had finally made his move.
"Still nothing?"
Sanjeev's voice was low, but every word carried irrepressible irritation.
"Sir, we've searched the entire manor three times. Every place we can reach has been checked."
"The key is not in the manor—or if it is, it's hidden beyond our search methods."
Sanjeev gripped his wand tight.
the yew-wood shaft emitted a faint creak under his excessive grip.
"Then go ask her."
He turned and headed toward the stairs.
"What if she refuses to talk?"
"Make her talk."
Sanjeev's footsteps descended the stairs.
From the first floor to the first basement, then to the second.
The Padma Manor dungeon was built into the deepest part of the foundation, carved from a single block of Yorkshire limestone.
The walls were over a meter thick.
In the dungeon corridor, an Eternal Flame wall lamp was embedded every three meters.
But the flames were a ghastly green, dyeing the hallway in a cold, mold-smelling emerald light.
At the end of the corridor was an iron door.
Three locks hung on the door.
The first was a standard mechanical lock; the key was in Sanjeev's pocket.
The second was a rune lock, requiring a specific sequence to be entered.
The third was a blood lock, requiring the blood of a direct Padma bloodline relative to open.
Sanjeev cut his finger and smeared it across the blood lock.
The three locks clicked open in sequence, the iron door groaning on its hinges.
The dungeon interior was about fifteen square meters.
Stone walls. Stone floor.
A ghastly green wall lamp hung from the ceiling.
An iron chair was bolted to the ground.
Four chains were welded to the armrests and legs of the chair, leading to four sets of cuffs and shackles.
Madam Padma sat upon the iron chair.
Her hands were chained to the armrests, her feet to the legs.
The chains were only twenty centimeters long, her range of motion severely limited.
The skin of her wrists and ankles had been rubbed raw, leaving red rings from the coarse iron cuffs.
Yet her sitting posture was as poised as if she were having afternoon tea in her parlor.
Her golden hair was tied back in a simple low ponytail, stray strands brushing her ears.
There was no panic on her fair face; her blue eyes were as calm as a frozen lake.
The corners of her mouth were slightly curled into a composed arc that was infuriating to her interrogator.
She wore a beige silk shirt and a deep blue knee-length skirt.
The top two buttons of her shirt were unfastened, revealing the fair skin beneath her collarbone.
The hem of her skirt bunched in neat folds at her knees.
On her feet were dark, low-heeled leather shoes, the surfaces dusty from the corridor.
She looked as though she had just been "invited" here from a high-end dinner party.
Sanjeev entered the dungeon.
His gaze swept over his sister-in-law's face, his lips thinning.
"Where is the key?"
Madam Padma raised her blue eyes to look at the man before her.
"Sanjeev, your beard is crooked."
Sanjeev's right hand reflexively went to his whiskers.
Then he realized he had been played. His beard was not crooked at all.
His face flushed crimson.
"Stop playing games with me! The key! The workshop key! Hand it over!"
Madam Padma blinked her blue eyes.
"What key?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!"
Sanjeev stepped forward, leveling his wand at Madam Padma's chest.
The tip was only ten centimeters from her collarbone.
"The Padma family workshop key. Controlling the workshop means controlling all production lines, formulas, contracts, and the entirety of the investment that Death Eater scion, Rozier, gave us."
"Where did you hide it?"
Madam Padma looked down at the wand pointed at her.
Then she looked up, her blue eyes staring directly at Sanjeev.
"Sanjeev, do you truly think that getting the key to the workshop gives you control over this family?"
"Shut up!"
"You don't even know how the assembly lines in the workshop operate."
"Who designed the enchantment sequences on the production line? Who are the raw material suppliers?"
"What are the quality control standards for each batch? Which logistics channel do we use for shipping?"
"Do you know any of this?"
Sanjeev's mouth opened and then snapped shut.
"I can learn these things in time."
"Learn?" Madam Padma laughed, the sound echoing softly against the stone walls.
"Sanjeev, the Quidditch World Cup opens in three months. Three months."
"Do you think three months is enough for you to 'learn'?"
Beads of sweat formed on Sanjeev's forehead.
"I don't need to manage it myself! I can find people!"
"Who? Your drinking buddies? Or those smugglers you met in Knockturn Alley?"
Madam Padma's voice carried the elegant, lethal irony of a noblewoman.
"Sanjeev, you've been in the Padma family for so many years. Have you still not understood one thing?"
"The core asset of this family has never been the workshop itself, nor those production lines."
"The core asset is... people. It is the management team I spent three years cultivating."
"It is the supplier relationships I negotiated one by one. It is the partnership agreement between me and Jerry."
She paused.
"And all of those things are bound to me. Not to that key."
Sanjeev's wand trembled slightly before her.
"Are you... are you threatening me?"
"I am educating you."
There was no fear in Madam Padma's eyes, only a condescending pity.
"You lock me in here, turn the manor upside down, and let thirty men run around like headless chickens."
"You think this is how you seize control of a family? Sanjeev, you've been wrong from the start."
"Wrong about what?"
"You thought the power center of the Padma family was inside this manor."
The corners of her mouth curled higher.
"But in reality, the power center of the Padma family is in the hands of Jerry Rozier."
Sanjeev's pupils contracted.
"Just an investor?"
Madam Padma shook her head with a smile.
Her golden ponytail swayed gently, the tips brushing the back of the iron chair.
"Sanjeev, Jerry Rozier invested three hundred and fifty thousand gold Galleons into the Padma family workshop."
"Do you know what that represents? It is the sum of the Padma family's total net profit for the last three years."
"It is seven times the value of all your personal assets combined."
Her voice dropped lower, but every word was as clear as if carved into the stone.
"Do you think he just threw that money in and walked away? Do you think he won't protect his investment?"
Sanjeev's throat bobbed.
"He's just a student. A boy still in school. What can he do?"
"Wait and see."
Madam Padma leaned back against the iron chair, her hands making a small, shackled gesture of spreading her palms.
"My two daughters have already sent him word. If I'm not mistaken, he should be on his way here right now."
Sanjeev's expression shifted.
"Your daughters? Padma and Petil? Shouldn't they be at Hogwarts?"
"They are at Hogwarts. In the same school as Jerry Rozier."
Madam Padma's blue eyes flashed in the ghastly green light.
"Sanjeev, you planned this coup for so long and yet forgot the most basic thing—my daughters are right beside Jerry."
"The news of you locking me up reached his ears the very instant it happened."
Sanjeev's fingers tightened on his wand.
He turned to his two subordinates.
"Reinforce the manor's defensive wards! Everyone to combat stations! Check the integrity of the Anti-Apparition array! Ensure the Floo Network is severed!"
The two subordinates rushed out.
Sanjeev turned back, glaring at Madam Padma.
"So what if he comes? One student. Against thirty adult wizards?"
Madam Padma did not answer.
She merely tilted her head slightly, as if listening to a sound from far away.
Her blue eyes half-closed, the curve of her lips unhurried!
Hurried footsteps echoed outside the dungeon.
A subordinate stumbled into the iron doorway, his face pale, sweat pouring down his forehead, his wand nearly slipping from his hand.
"S-Sir! Outside the manor... someone is here!"
Sanjeev's body tensed.
"How many?"
"Just... just one! A boy! He walked right through the Anti-Apparition array! As if the magic wasn't even there!"
Sanjeev's pupils constricted violently.
Madam Padma let out a soft laugh from her iron chair.
The sound rippled through the cold dungeon like an ancient, ominous prophecy being fulfilled word for word.
"I told you."
Her blue eyes sparkled in the ghastly green light.
"Wait and see."
Meanwhile, at the main gate of the manor.
Jerry stood at the gap in the yew hedge.
He wore his grey hoodie and black sweatpants, hands tucked in his pockets, head tilted slightly.
Behind him, Padma and Petil followed closely, the flush from the clubroom still lingering on their faces.
In the front garden of the manor, about twelve wizards in dark cloaks stood in a line, wands leveled at Jerry.
Jerry looked at them.
Then he pulled his right hand from his pocket.
The ice-blue ring on his index finger glinted in the moonlight.
"Move."
He said only one word.
The twelve wizards looked at each other.
No one moved.
Jerry sighed.
"Don't blame me, then."
He traced a circle in the air with his index finger.
Ice-blue light surged from the ring, forming a circular magical array about three meters in diameter in front of him.
The surface of the array was covered in dense alchemical runes, each flashing at a high frequency.
"Full..."
A leading wizard raised his wand.
"At..."
He didn't finish the word "Attack."
The magical array rotated.
A wave of ice-blue light swept out from the surface of the array like a wall of solid mana, crushing toward the twelve wizards at near-supersonic speed.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Six consecutive, heavy thuds.
The six wizards in the front row were hit head-on by the wave, their bodies flying backward as if struck by an invisible truck.
Their Shield Charms, Protego spells, and various defensive magics shattered like paper before the ice-blue wave.
Shards dissolved into silver stars in the air and vanished.
The six bodies tumbled across the garden lawn several times before stopping.
All of them were unconscious.
The six in the back row saw the instant, total defeat of their companions; their expressions shifted from tension to terror.
"Retreat! Retreat now!"
Someone shouted.
The six turned to run.
But Jerry's finger traced a second circle in the air.
A second wave of light pursued them.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Another six heavy thuds.
The remaining six were also sent flying.
Twelve wizards, two circles, all dealt with.
From Jerry saying "Move" to the last man losing consciousness, less than four seconds had passed.
Padma and Petil stood behind Jerry, eyes wide.
"M-Master is so amazing..."
Padma's voice carried a trembling worship.
Jerry didn't look back.
He stepped through the main entrance of the manor.
Jerry crossed the threshold of the front door.
The doors were made of oak, reinforced with iron strips and carved with the Padma peacock crest. They were unlocked, left open by the wizards who had rushed out to meet him.
The chandelier in the foyer was lit, crystal facets refracting warm yellow light across the marble floor.
Footprints were scattered everywhere, along with the wreckage of an overturned umbrella stand.
Three wizards rushed out from the corridor on the right.
"Stupefy!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Three spell-beams shot simultaneously at Jerry's position.
Red, grey, and white light converged in a fan-shaped arc through the air.
Jerry pulled his left hand from his pocket and gave a forward shove with his palm.
An ice-blue mana barrier solidified into a translucent shield about two meters wide.
The three spells slammed into the shield like marbles hitting an iron wall.
Clang, clang, clang! Three crisp sounds, and they were all deflected.
The ricocheting spells hit the ceiling, smashing the chandelier. Crystal shards rained down like a waterfall.
Jerry gave a flick with his right index finger.
An ice-blue point of light flew from his fingertip, splitting into three in mid-air to pursue the three wizards.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The three bodies were simultaneously blasted backward, crashing through a wooden door at the end of the corridor.
They tumbled into a storage room, knocking over an entire shelf of dusty old books.
Jerry continued forward.
The stairs.
Five wizards blocked the landing to the second floor, having built a makeshift barricade out of overturned furniture.
Wands poked through the gaps, aimed at the ground floor hall.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Five grey spell-beams shot out at once.
Jerry didn't use a shield.
He tilted his body slightly, and all five spells grazed past him, striking the marble pillar behind him.
The surface of the pillar cracked, stone-petrification patterns spreading across it.
Jerry raised his right foot and stomped the floor.
Thud.
A heavy vibration.
Ice-blue mana radiated from his sole, crawling along the cracks in the marble floor like a web woven of light.
When the web reached the stairs, it suddenly erupted upward from the ground.
It transformed into five ice-blue pillars of light, bursting out from beneath the feet of the five wizards and tossing them into the air.
The five flipped mid-air and then—thump, thump, thump, thump, thump—slammed onto the stairs like sandbags.
They rolled down, piling onto the foyer floor, all unconscious.
Jerry stepped over their bodies and continued downward.
He didn't go upstairs. His target was below.
The entrance to the basement was at the end of the first-floor corridor, behind an inconspicuous small door.
A brass lock hung on the door.
Jerry gripped the lock, his fingers tightening.
Crunch.
The brass lock shattered into several pieces in his palm.
He pushed the door open.
A narrow flight of stone steps led down, the ghastly green lamps illuminating the wet stone walls.
The air was thick with the basement's characteristic smell of mold and damp.
Jerry's footsteps echoed on the stone stairs as he descended level by level.
Four wizards stood in the corridor of the first basement.
The moment they saw Jerry's silhouette appear at the stairs, the leader raised his wand.
"Avada—"
Jerry's eyes narrowed.
He raised his right hand, fingers spread wide, then snapped them shut.
The wands in the hands of the four wizards simultaneously emitted a crack of breaking wood.
The four wands were snapped in half from the middle by Jerry's remote grip.
Wisps of white smoke rose from the breaks—the magical cores evaporating without the protection of the shaft.
The four wizards froze.
The wands were broken.
For a wizard, the moment a wand snaps is equivalent to a samurai's sword being shattered.
Jerry walked up to them.
He used no spells.
He balled his right hand into a fist and drove it into the leader's abdomen.
Thud.
the wizard's body folded like a shrimp, saliva and stomach acid spraying from his mouth as he was sent flying back.
He slammed into the stone wall, the rock behind him cracking into several fissures.
His left elbow struck the second.
Crack.
The point of the elbow hit the temple dead center. The wizard's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed sideways.
His right foot kicked the third.
Boom!
The sole hit the chest, and the man was blasted three meters away, sliding across the floor before coming to a stop.
The fourth wizard turned and ran.
Jerry reached out, grabbing the collar of his cloak.
He gave a violent yank.
The wizard was hauled back, and Jerry pressed his palm onto the back of the man's head, slamming it downward.
Thump.
The face hit the flagstone floor. A nosebleed seeped from the point of impact.
He was out cold.
Jerry released him, flicking a drop of blood from his finger.
He continued down.
Second basement.
The iron door at the end of the corridor was open.
Jerry reached the doorway and saw the scene inside.
Madam Padma sat on the iron chair, her wrists and ankles shackled.
Her golden hair was in a low ponytail, her blue eyes watching Sanjeev calmly.
The collar of her beige silk shirt was slightly open, her fair skin gleaming with a cold luster in the emerald light.
Sanjeev stood with his back to the door, wand pointed at Madam Padma's face, speaking.
He didn't notice behind him.
Jerry walked in.
His footsteps made a clear tap, tap, tap on the stone floor.
Sanjeev's body went rigid. He turned around.
He saw Jerry.
His pupils shrank violently.
"You...!"
Jerry's right hand was already before his face.
Five fingers gripped the shaft of Sanjeev's wand and gave a light snap.
Crack.
Sanjeev's wand broke.
The splinters fell from Jerry's fingers to the floor with a series of tiny pings.
Sanjeev's face turned from shock to terror, then to absolute despair.
"You can't... I am a Padma..."
Jerry's right hand clenched into a fist.
CRACK.
The punch landed squarely on Sanjeev's jaw.
Sanjeev's head snapped back, his teeth colliding with a sickening clack as he bit a chunk of flesh out of his own cheek.
His body stumbled back two paces, his lower back slamming into the stone wall of the dungeon before he slowly slid down to the floor.
His eyes were glazed over, but he hadn't completely lost consciousness yet.
Jerry squatted down, gripping Sanjeev's jaw and forcing his face up.
"I invested in the Padma family's assets.
You moved my things."
He released Sanjeev's jaw.
Sanjeev's head lolled to the side, and he passed out completely.
Jerry stood up and walked over to Madam Padma.
He looked at the chains and handcuffs on the iron chair.
The shackles were locked tight, requiring a specific key to open.
Jerry didn't bother looking for one.
His fingers pinched the edge of the iron cuff on Madam Padma's left wrist, and ice-blue mana seeped from his fingertips into the metal structure.
The locking mechanism inside disintegrated rapidly under the erosion of his magic, the metal lattice being rearranged.
Click.
The handcuff opened, falling from Madam Padma's wrist to the floor.
The right cuff, then the left shackle, then the right—he opened them in sequence.
Madam Padma was free.
She rose slowly from the iron chair.
Dark red welts ringed her wrists and ankles where the chains had bound her for hours; her fingers trembled slightly from the stinging sensation of returning circulation.
She stood before Jerry.
There was a stark difference in their heights.
Yet in terms of aura, at this moment, Madam Padma was looking up entirely at the youth before her.
Her blue eyes stared at Jerry.
The rims of her eyes finally turned red.
That aristocratic composure and calm she had maintained shattered like thin ice.
Her lips trembled, and a single tear slid from the corner of her right eye, trailing down her cheek to her chin.
She didn't speak.
She reached out both hands, cupping the back of Jerry's head.
Then she pulled him toward her with sudden force.
Lips slammed against lips.
The kiss was deep and desperate, a violent release of the fear and anxiety she had suppressed for hours.
Her tongue invaded Jerry's mouth, licking across his palate, teeth, and tongue, greedily drinking in his scent and heat.
"Mmh... hngh..."
Muffled sounds escaped her nose.
Madam Padma's hands slid from the back of Jerry's head, trailing down his neck, shoulders, and chest.
Her fingers gripped the fabric of his hoodie urgently, as if confirming he was real, alive, and truly there to save her.
Her right hand reached directly for the waistband of Jerry's trousers.
Her fingers hooked the elastic edge.
And yanked down.
Zzzzt!
The sweatpants were pulled below his hips.
The thing sprang out.
The moment Madam Padma's blue eyes saw it, her pupils dilated.
Even though she had seen this object countless times, the visual impact of it snapping free from the fabric still made her breath hitch.
It was semi-erect, the veins along the shaft throbbing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Her fingers closed around it.
The temperature difference between her palm and his meat-root sent a shiver through her the moment they touched.
Her fingers encircled the shaft but could not meet; a gap of about two centimeters remained between her fingertips and thumb.
She gripped it, feeling the heavy, surging presence of blood and pulse in her palm.
Then she gave a forceful shove.
Jerry's body was pushed back a step.
Madam Padma kept pushing.
Jerry's back hit the stone wall of the dungeon.
She pressed her body against him, pinning him between the cold stone and her warm chest.
"Thank you."
Her voice was low and husky as she whispered those two words against Jerry's earlobe.
Her hand was already moving.
Her right hand gripped the shaft of his meat-root, slowly stroking it up and down.
The friction against her palm made the object swell rapidly, going from semi-soft to a raging, iron-hard stand.
Madam Padma felt the thing in her hand nearly double in volume within thirty seconds.
The thickness of the full erection made it impossible for her fingers to close; the gap between her fingertips and thumb widened from two centimeters to nearly four.
"Mmh..."
A grunt escaped Jerry's throat.
Just then, two sets of hurried footsteps echoed at the iron door.
Padma and Petil rushed in.
"Mother!"
Padma saw her mother standing safely before Jerry, and her eyes turned wet instantly.
But then she saw exactly what her mother's right hand was doing, and the section of the massive meat-root visible between her mother's body and Jerry's.
Her mouth opened, then snapped shut.
Petil saw it too.
The sisters exchanged a look.
Madam Padma turned her head, glancing at her two daughters by the door.
There was not a hint of embarrassment in her blue eyes.
"Come and help."
Her tone was calm, as if she were telling her daughters to clear the plates from the dinner table.
Padma and Petil walked over.
They were already accustomed to such scenes.
Madam Padma released her grip and took half a step back.
"Lubricate it first," she told her daughters.
Padma and Petil knelt simultaneously.
Their knees hit the cold flagstone floor, the hems of their school robes spreading out.
They knelt before Jerry, facing the giant object that was now fully erect and angled high.
Padma moved first.
Her lips parted, her tongue flicking out to lick the left side of the shaft.
She traced a long, slow line from the base upward.
Slurp...
The sound of saliva meeting skin.
Petil followed immediately.
Her mouth pressed against the right side of the shaft, a mirror image of her sister.
Her tongue started at the base on the right, licking upward just as slowly.
Two tongues, left and right, climbed the shaft simultaneously.
Slurp... squish...
The wet friction sounds echoed against the dungeon walls.
Their saliva met on the surface of the shaft, forming a thin, even film of moisture.
The object grew increasingly slick under the alternating licks of the two tongues, its surface reflecting the ghastly green light of the wall lamps.
Padma's tongue-tip reached the head first.
She opened her mouth, trying to take the glans inside.
Her jaw opened to its limit, her lips stretched into a white ring as she stuffed the front of the head into her mouth.
"Mmh..."
Her cheeks bulged.
The size of the head occupied most of her oral cavity; her tongue was pinned underneath, able only to wiggle slightly.
Gulp...
Saliva was squeezed out, overflowing from the corners of her mouth and dripping down her chin.
She held it for about five seconds before spitting it out.
Petil took over instantly.
Her mouth took the head from another angle.
Her mouth was slightly larger than her sister's, allowing her to swallow about an extra centimeter.
Her tongue licked frantically at the underside of the glans, providing a different, more agile and aggressive stimulation.
Squelch, squelch...
The wet sounds intensified.
The sisters took turns sucking and licking.
Padma for five seconds, then Petil, then back to Padma.
Every transition was accompanied by a wet pop of suction breaking and a string of transparent saliva stretching between his tip and their lips.
Madam Padma stood by, watching.
Her blue eyes observed her daughters' work, her lips curved into a satisfied smile.
The expression was that of a teacher watching her students complete an assignment.
The entire meat-root was now coated in a thick layer of saliva.
From base to tip, every inch of skin shimmered wetly in the green light.
"That's enough."
Madam Padma spoke.
Padma and Petil pulled away simultaneously, kneeling on either side with mixtures of saliva and pre-cum clinging to the corners of their mouths.
Madam Padma stepped forward.
Her fingers undid the side zipper of her deep blue knee-length skirt.
With a soft hiss, the zipper ran from her waist to the hem.
The skirt slid from her hips, trailing down her thighs to her ankles, and she stepped out of it.
The lower half of her body was now covered only by simple white cotton panties.
A small damp patch, darker than the surrounding fabric, had already formed at the center of the crotch.
Her fingers hooked the waistband of the panties and pulled down.
The underwear slid down her thighs, landing at her ankles.
She kicked them away.
Then she turned around, her back to Jerry.
She braced her hands against the stone wall, her waist sinking as she arched her buttocks back.
"Come."
She looked back, her blue eyes fixed on Jerry.
Jerry's hand gripped the meat-root, which had been made incredibly slick by the sisters' mouths.
He moved behind Madam Padma.
The tip pressed against her entrance.
Madam Padma's body went rigid the moment the scalding, bulbous head pressed against her most sensitive spot.
Her fingers clawed at the stone wall, her nails making a faint skritch against the rough surface.
Jerry's waist gave a forward shove.
Plop.
The head forced its way inside.
Madam Padma's mouth fell open, a silent gasp caught in her throat.
The tissue at the entrance was brutally stretched by the oversized glans; folds were flattened, membranes compressed, and her inner walls clamped tightly around the coronal sulcus.
"Sss..."
She sucked in a breath through her teeth.
Jerry kept pushing.
The shaft disappeared inch by inch.
With every centimeter gained, Madam Padma's body gave a slight tremor.
Her inner walls, being gradually forced open, secreted a massive amount of natural lubrication.
That fluid mixed with the saliva left by the twins, creating a loud squish between the shaft and her walls.
Squish... squelch...
The wet sounds grew increasingly dense.
Until Jerry's lower abdomen was flush against Madam Padma's buttocks.
Squish-squish-squish...
The wet noise filled the entire dungeon.
Madam Padma's legs finally gave way.
Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground.
Her breathing was ragged and chaotic, her golden hair a mess, and the hem of her shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to her waist.
Padma and Petil immediately supported their mother from both sides.
Madam Padma leaned against her daughters' shoulders, her blue eyes half-closed, her lips curved in a smile of profound satisfaction.
Her eyes slowly opened, looking at Jerry standing before her.
The hem of the boy's grey hoodie was stained with sweat, his sweatpants were still caught below his hips, and his meat-root, having just finished its work, was slowly reverting to a semi-erect state, the shaft covered in the traces of mixed fluids.
Madam Padma's lips moved.
"What do we do next?"
Her voice was hoarse but calm, as if everything that had just happened was merely a necessary ritual, and now it was time to get back to business...
The spatial rift closed behind Jerry.
The cold, damp air of the dungeon vanished.
In its place was a bizarre storm, incredibly thick and carrying a sweet, metallic, and warm scent.
This had once been Apollo's domain.
The remaining tall white marble columns, originally carved with the Sun God's glorious deeds, were now entirely covered by layers of dark red, constantly writhing flesh-carpets.
Residual golden divine power flickered in the air, but was instantly devoured by the drifting purple-black psionic spores.
The ground was no longer hard rock or soil.
Underfoot was an elastic, extremely warm biological tissue.
With every step, the fleshy surface dipped, squeezing out a wet squish-squish, as strands of transparent mucus stretched between the soles of his shoes and the meat-rug.
Jerry walked at the head.
Madam Padma held her twin daughters' hands, following cautiously behind and to Jerry's side.
The trio's clothes were extremely disheveled after the previous intense physical encounter.
Madam Padma's silk shirt was nearly soaked through, clinging to her full breasts and waist. Beneath her deep blue skirt, her fair legs—covered in a fine sheen of sweat—were still trembling slightly.
Padma and Petil's Hogwarts uniforms were stained with white mottled spots; their breathing was heavy, clearly not yet fully recovered from the vertigo of cross-dimensional teleportation.
Over thirty rebel wizards, bound by powerful Restraining Curses, were piled like trash on a nearby patch of flesh-colored ground.
They could not speak or move, but their eyes were filled with an extreme terror that transcended death.
The center of a massive flesh-pit ahead began to churn violently.
Gurgle, gurgle...
Massive amounts of dark purple nutrient fluid surged from the bottom of the pit.
From within the roiling slurry, a suffocatingly massive figure slowly rose.
She had grown again.
She stood over two meters tall.
Even with Jerry standing before her, he barely reached below her knees.
The Mother Bug's skin was a sickly, deathly pale from years of avoiding the sun, yet the surface possessed a staggering smoothness and softness like mutton-fat jade.
Her features were devastatingly beautiful, her deep purple eyes flashing with absolute coldness and ferocity—but the moment her gaze touched Jerry, that ferocity instantly converted into an intense, tangible heat and obsession.
Her thick, waterfall-like hair draped all the way to her exaggerated gluteal cleft.
On her chest hung two incredibly large, rounded orbs of flesh.
Unshielded by any fabric, the massive pair was fully exposed to the air, firm and elastic due to the overflowing Tyranid life force.
At the peaks were two finger-sized deep purple buds, their surfaces covered in extremely fine sensory nerve endings.
Her waist was incredibly slender, protected by two sections of exoskeleton armor like dark-gold scales, extending down to connect with her staggering, wide hips and heavy, massive buttocks.
Her lower body still retained wild, xeno-insectoid traits.
She had no human legs; from the hips down was a thick, powerful, serpentine body covered in purple-black chitinous heavy armor.
The long tail swept slowly over the fleshy ground behind her, the tip ending in a special organ that blossomed like a flower bud, constantly dripping thick, transparent aphrodisiac glandular fluid.
And from her back, six pink tentacles, as thick as a child's arm and meters long, writhed in the air like they possessed independent consciousness.
"Master."
The Mother Bug's voice was ethereal and sweet, carrying a powerful psychic penetration.
The massive form slithered to Jerry's front in an instant.
The thick serpent tail coiled behind her as her upper body bowed deeply, her gorgeous face held high.
Her massive breasts pressed directly into the ground, the weight of the two orbs pushing deep circular pits into the fleshy surface.
She completely ignored the group of bound wizards and the trembling Padma trio.
In her eyes was only the boy who, though not tall, had completely enslaved her with a soul contract.
She stuck out her tongue.
The tongue was nearly twice as long as a human's, presenting an eerie deep purple hue.
There were no barbs on the surface; instead, it was covered in tiny fleshy suction cups.
The long purple tongue extended straight forward.
It reached into his pants.
Jerry narrowed his eyes.
He did not dodge or make any move to accommodate her; he simply stood with his legs slightly apart, savoring this horrific monster's unique ritual of submission.
Slurp. Squish. Squelch.
The wet sounds seemed deafening in the dead silence of the Hive ruins.
The Mother Bug's mouth secreted a large amount of cool saliva, easily taking in more than half of the shaft that was as thick as a forearm.
Her cheeks worked hard to contract, her breasts—pinned to the ground—swinging up and down with her swallowing motions, slapping against the flesh-carpet with dull, meaty thuds.
The six pink tentacles on her back weren't idle either; they glided over nimbly.
Two of them wrapped gently around Jerry's calves, rubbing the boy's muscles with their mucus-covered skin like a massage.
Another two tentacles reached toward the twin sisters behind Jerry.
"Ah!"
Petil let out a highly suppressed scream.
A tentacle easily flipped up the hem of her school skirt, its cold, slick tip moving in a straight line up her inner thigh toward the edge of her underwear.
Padma was also encircled around the waist by another tentacle, the force carefully calibrated to avoid hurting her while exploring her body.
Madam Padma's breath stalled.
She watched this scene—absurd, lewd, and yet filled with absolute, oppressive power.
"Well done."
Jerry spoke.
His voice was as calm as ever. He reached out his right hand, threading his fingers into the Mother Bug's thick black hair and gently stroking her scalp.
Receiving the praise, the Mother Bug emitted a satisfied "purring" sound from her throat.
With a crisp pop, a long string of white saliva was pulled between his tip and her purple lips, eventually falling onto the fungal mat.
Jerry pointed toward the pile of over thirty wizards.
The wizards, having witnessed the preceding absurdity, were bug-eyed with terror.
They saw the horrific Mother Bug turn her gaze toward them.
The eyes that a second ago were full of obsession and submissiveness now held only the cold instinct of feeding.
"As a snack for you."
Jerry clapped his hands.
"Eat your fill."
Upon the command.
The entire ground shook violently.
Across the surface of the flesh-colored mat surrounding the mountain of wizards, countless horrific maws suddenly tore open in all directions.
These rifts were like giant mouths growing out of the earth, their inner walls lined with rows of jagged, pale bone-spikes.
Foul-smelling digestive acid erupted from these subterranean maws with a glug-glug sound.
These thirty-odd wizards were not granted a human death.
The Mother Bug didn't even have the interest to use her own mouth.
The six thick tentacles on her back suddenly shot out.
The pink appendages thickened and lengthened in mid-air, splitting into a web of dozens of smaller branches.
The tentacles stabbed into the mountain of flesh like lightning.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
The bound wizards writhed frantically, but it was futile against the terrifying strength.
The tentacles coiled tightly around their waists, necks, or thighs, yanking the thirty-odd living adult bodies from the ground like pulling radishes.
The air was filled with wizards hanging upside down.
Then, the tentacles mercilessly slammed them into the jagged giant maws opening in the ground.
CRUNCH! SQUELCH!
The sound of bones snapping and flesh being pulverized mixed into a horrific symphony.
The bone-spikes in the maws snapped shut in a simultaneous execution.
Crimson blood erupted several meters high from the gaps of the subterranean mouths like fountains.
But as soon as the blood touched the flesh-mat, it was absorbed completely by the surface's countless tiny suction cups.
In less than ten seconds.
Over thirty adult wizards had vanished completely.
The bone-lined maws on the ground chewed contentedly, grinding wands, fabric, and skin into pure nutrients, which were channeled through subterranean flesh-pipes back into the Mother Bug's body.
Madam Padma's legs gave way.
She collapsed directly onto the elastic meat-carpet.
The impact of this pure biological predation far exceeded any Killing Curse in the normal magical world.
The twin sisters were also paralyzed with fear by the cannibalistic scene, clutching each other as the pink tentacles continued their mocking massage.
The Mother Bug's massive serpent body trembled slightly.
Having absorbed the life force of over thirty adult wizards, a beautiful pink flush spread across her skin.
The sense of fullness made her staggering breasts swell even further.
She slithered back to Jerry's feet, her massive frame pressing tight against the boy's body.
He turned around, looking down at Madam Padma kneeling on the fungal mat, her legs still shaking.
"Look closely."
Jerry's tone was low, carrying the undeniable weight of imperial pressure.
He looked into Madam Padma's blue eyes, which were hazy with a mix of terror and arousal.
"This world will be our largest factory from now on."
Madam Padma looked up.
"And of course, it will also be the most popular amusement park in the entire wizarding world!"