Bab 9: Day 9: Mentor/Mentee/Clit Transfiguration/Handjob
Day 9: Mentor/Mentee/Clit Transfiguration/Handjob
The room was still, except for the faint sound of parchment rustling as Minerva McGonagall flipped through notes on her desk. Her sharp eyes skimmed over the pages, as usual, with that precise focus she always had, but her thoughts weren't entirely on her work. No, her mind kept drifting to the young woman standing in front of her—Hermione Granger. Hermione had always been an exceptional student, but now, she was something more. She was Minerva's partner, her lover, and a brilliant witch pushing the boundaries of what magic could do, aiming to achieve something only a few ever dared: mastering the highest level of Transfiguration.
Hermione stood in the middle of the room, her expression caught between concentration and excitement. She'd been working toward this for months, long hours spent practicing under Minerva's watchful eye, refining her technique late into the night. Today wasn't just another practice session. Today was crucial. Another step toward the Transfiguration Mastery—an accomplishment that required not just skill but creativity, adaptability, and an intimate understanding of her own magic.
Minerva looked up from her notes, her eyes landing on Hermione. "You've come a long way, Hermione," she said, her voice warm but still professional. "Today will push you further than anything we've done before. You'll need to demonstrate complete control over your body transfigurations—external changes are one thing, but internal adaptations are much more complex."
Hermione's nerves fluttered, but she nodded, determination clear in her eyes. "I'm ready, Minerva," she said, her voice steady even though her heart was racing.
Minerva allowed herself a small smile. "Very well. Begin when you're ready."
Hermione inhaled deeply, her fingers brushing over her wand as she steadied herself. Body transfiguration was one of the most advanced forms of magic—it required total control over her magical core. She had practiced this more times than she could count, but there was always an edge of unpredictability. Transfiguring living tissue, even your own, was delicate and complex.
With a gentle flick of her wand, Hermione whispered the incantation, feeling the familiar pulse of magic spread through her body. Slowly, deliberately, she began to change, focusing first on her chest, altering the size and shape of her breasts.
Minerva watched closely, her sharp gaze tracking every subtle shift. She had supervised plenty of students attempting body transfigurations, but Hermione had always been different. Even now, as the magic took hold, Minerva could see the precision in Hermione's work—there was no hesitation, no faltering. The change was smooth, the curves of her breasts growing fuller under her shirt with ease.
Hermione glanced down, her cheeks flushing pink as she saw the transformation. She hadn't expected it to be so obvious. Her larger breasts pressed against the fabric of her blouse, the outline clear and noticeable. Pride swelled inside her, though it mingled with a little embarrassment—she hadn't realized just how easily she could manipulate her own form.
Minerva's eyes darkened slightly as she took it all in, her gaze lingering on Hermione's newly enhanced figure. She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her usual composure, but her heart had definitely skipped a beat. "Very impressive," she said, keeping her voice calm, though there was a new warmth beneath it. "You've perfected the external transformation. How does it feel?"
Hermione shifted a little, her arms brushing against the new fullness of her chest. "It feels… strange," she admitted, her voice soft. "Not uncomfortable, just… different."
Minerva nodded, her eyes flicking back to meet Hermione's. "Good. Now, onto the next part. Remember, this is where you'll need even more focus and control. Take your time."
Hermione nodded again, this time steadying her breath as she prepared for the next phase. Internal transfiguration was trickier—much more subtle and delicate. Closing her eyes briefly, she let the magic coil within her, feeling it shift through her body before flicking her wand again.
This time, the change was less obvious at first, but it was no less significant. Minerva's eyes widened slightly as she watched the fabric of Hermione's trousers shift, a new outline forming beneath the material—clear, defined, and unmistakable. Hermione's hand twitched as she adjusted to the sensation, her breath catching as the spell fully took hold.
Minerva's gaze lingered on the new form pressing against Hermione's trousers—a visible bulge, undeniably masculine. Hermione had transformed her clit into something else entirely, something more… substantial.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Minerva's heart was racing now, a strange mix of surprise, admiration, and something deeper stirring inside her. What Hermione had just done was far beyond what most witches could achieve, and it was impressive on every level.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, her eyes flicking to Minerva's, silently searching for some kind of approval. "I… I didn't think it would be this noticeable," she murmured, her voice shaking just slightly.
Minerva's lips parted, her voice steady but touched with something else—something more personal. "It's remarkable, Hermione," she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the outline beneath Hermione's trousers. "I've never seen someone accomplish this kind of transformation with such precision."
Hermione flushed deeper, her cheeks going red as she realized the full impact of Minerva's words. She had done it. She had taken her magic further than she ever thought possible, and now she stood here, transformed in a way that was both magical and deeply intimate.
Minerva stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Hermione's as she reached out, her hand hovering just over the bulge pressing against Hermione's trousers. "May I?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hermione swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest. "Yes," she breathed, her voice shaking but filled with anticipation.
Minerva's fingers brushed lightly over the fabric, the sensation sending a shiver down Hermione's spine. The outline beneath her trousers was firm, solid, and Minerva's touch was gentle, almost exploratory, as she traced the shape with her fingertips.
"This is… extraordinary," Minerva murmured, her voice filled with admiration as her fingers lingered on the new shape. "You've managed something I've only seen in theory. How does it feel?"
Hermione's breath hitched, her body reacting to Minerva's touch in ways she hadn't expected. "It feels… different," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "More intense than I thought it would."
Minerva's fingers stayed there for a moment longer before she pulled back, her face softening with pride—and something deeper, something personal. "You've done exceptionally well, darling," she said, her voice warmer now. "But holding that transformation—controlling it under pressure—is another skill altogether."
Hermione's heart was racing now, not just from the magic but from the shift in Minerva's tone. That warmth—more than just mentor and mentee. Her body buzzed with the sensation of the transformation, the tightness of her trousers almost unbearable now, and a kind of electricity between them she hadn't anticipated.
But this wasn't just about magic anymore. Not for either of them.
"Test me," Hermione whispered, her voice soft but full of something else—need. She couldn't hide behind the formality anymore. Not with Minerva looking at her like that. Not when the air between them was charged with something so electric it almost hummed.
Minerva's eyes darkened at Hermione's words, her lips curving into a small, teasing smile. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing lightly against Hermione's arm. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice low, almost playful. "Because you'll have to hold the transformation, no matter what I do."
Hermione swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she nodded. "I'm sure," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.
Minerva's smile deepened, a glint of something mischievous in her eyes as she reached out, her hand gliding down the curve of Hermione's side. The touch was deliberate, slow, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat, the anticipation building as Minerva's fingers lightly grazed the fabric of her trousers. Every nerve in Hermione's body felt on edge, hypersensitive to every touch, every shift of Minerva's hand.
"Let's see how well you can hold it," Minerva murmured, her voice a low purr that sent shivers racing down Hermione's spine. Her hand drifted lower, brushing against Hermione's inner thigh, teasing at the edge of her transformation, but not quite giving in to what Hermione's body was clearly begging for.
Hermione's breath hitched, her body instinctively reacting to Minerva's teasing. The sensations flooding her were overwhelming, like nothing she'd ever experienced. The new weight between her legs, the subtle pressure from Minerva's touch—it was all so intense, so unfamiliar. Holding the transformation steady took everything she had, but she was determined to prove she could handle it. Her mind clung to the delicate control of her magic even as her body ached for more.
"Hold it, darling," Minerva whispered, her lips close enough to Hermione's ear that her breath was warm against her skin. The tone in Minerva's voice had shifted—deeper, more commanding. Her fingers trailed higher, brushing against the bulge in Hermione's trousers, pressing just enough to remind Hermione what she was holding onto. "You need to show me just how much control you have."
Hermione's legs trembled beneath her, her heart racing as she felt Minerva's touch grow bolder. The transformed clit was so much more sensitive than she'd anticipated, every brush of Minerva's fingers sent a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through her. It was hard—harder than she thought it would be—not to let the spell falter under the weight of everything Minerva was doing. But she gritted her teeth and held on, determined to stay in control.
Minerva's fingers moved higher, her touch no longer teasing, but deliberate. She pressed more firmly now, her hand sliding over the bulge, and Hermione gasped, her hips arching slightly as the pressure built inside her. She could feel the magic within her starting to waver, the transformation threatening to slip, but she fought to keep her focus, even as her body trembled under Minerva's hands.
"Very good," Minerva purred, her lips brushing Hermione's ear as her hand continued its slow, torturous movements. "You're doing so well, Hermione. But let's see how well you can hold it when things get… a little more intense."
Without another word, Minerva's hand moved lower, her fingers deftly undoing the button of Hermione's trousers. The fabric slipped down just enough for Minerva to have full access, and Hermione's breath came in short, shaky bursts as Minerva's hand slipped inside, wrapping firmly around the transfigured clit.
"Minerva," Hermione gasped, her body reacting instantly to the new sensation. Minerva's grip was possessive, confident, and the pressure of her touch made Hermione's head spin. The intensity of it all—the magic, the pleasure—it was nearly impossible to think, let alone maintain the spell. But she had to. She had to hold it together.
"Focus, darling," Minerva whispered, her voice low and commanding, sending a shiver straight down Hermione's spine. Her hand moved faster now, her fingers stroking the transfigured clit with precision. "I want you to hold the transformation. Don't let it slip."
Hermione bit down on her lip, her body trembling with the effort of keeping her magic steady. It was hard—so hard—not to lose control. The way Minerva was touching her, the way her fingers moved with such deliberate precision, it was all too much. The pressure inside her was building, spiraling out of control, and it took everything Hermione had not to let go.
Minerva's grip tightened slightly, her fingers moving faster, more insistent, as she pushed Hermione closer to the edge. "You're so close," she murmured, her voice filled with a quiet, satisfied confidence. "But can you keep it together?"
Hermione's breath hitched, her legs shaking as her body teetered on the brink of release. She could feel the magic inside her faltering, threatening to slip, but she fought to hold on, her focus razor-sharp, even as the pleasure crashed over her in waves.
"I—" Hermione gasped, her voice trembling, her body arching into Minerva's touch. "I can't—"
"Yes, you can," Minerva growled softly, her voice taking on a seductive edge as her fingers thrust harder, stroking Hermione with fierce determination. "You're stronger than this. Don't let go."
Hermione's body shook, her magic wavering under the weight of Minerva's touch. She could feel herself slipping, the transformation on the verge of unraveling, but Minerva's words kept her grounded, kept her holding on just a little longer.
And then, with one final, deliberate stroke, Minerva pushed Hermione over the edge.
Hermione cried out, her body convulsing as pleasure surged through her, her magic flaring with an intensity that left her breathless. But even as her orgasm tore through her, she held the transformation, refusing to let it slip, her body trembling with both the force of her release and the sheer effort of maintaining control.
Minerva's hand stilled, her fingers still wrapped around Hermione as she leaned in, her lips brushing lightly against Hermione's ear. "Well done, darling," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with quiet pride. "You held it."
Hermione's breath came in short, ragged bursts as she slumped against Minerva, her body spent but her mind humming with a deep sense of accomplishment. "I… I did it," she whispered, her voice shaky but laced with pride.
Minerva smiled, a rare softness in her eyes as she pulled Hermione closer, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. "Yes, you did," she murmured, her voice warm and affectionate. "You've mastered the transformation."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone