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Umbridge digs the fingernails of her other hand across the still sore letters, causing Hermione to cry out once again. “Yes, precisely, Miss Granger, people might see what a Mudblood whore deserves,” she says before moving her hands away and refocusing on her work. “I’ll see you in the Great Hall later.” Hermione spends the rest of the day dreading dinner. She skips lunch in fear of the professor changing her mind about the time, spending most of her time in the library instead. Harry and Ron are too busy playing Quidditch to notice her strange behavior; even when dinner rolls around, they don’t question her unusual silence or her complete lack of appetite. For her own part, Hermione can’t seem to stop herself from looking up to the high table where her professor is staring hungrily back down at her. Her situation only becomes obvious when the meal comes to a close and she is summoned to the front of the room Webcams at the same time as the rest of the teachers and the students fourth year and below are asked to leave. “It has come to my attention that some of the students in this school are not appreciative of the Ministry’s efforts to protect you all,” Umbridge addresses the assembled students after the other teachers and younger years have been escorted out and the doors sealed. “Miss Granger, here, is one of them, and today she will demonstrate what happens to those who defy the Ministry.” Hermione, standing next to her teacher, cannot bear to look out at her peers, and instead keeps her eyes down on the floor. “She is about to receive a caning for which each strike is equal to one point lost by her house this past week. As a Gryffindor, that brings your total up to 132 strikes, isn’t that right, Miss Granger?” At the announcement of exactly what her next punishment will entail, Hermione immediately looks to her Professor amateur in shock. Her body starts shaking in fear at the thought of receiving so many more strikes on her already sorely abused bottom, but she knows better than to teen show defiance at this point. So, with tears stinging her eyes, Hermione nods. “Yes, Professor Umbridge.” From the Gryffindor table, Hermione instantly hears shouting and protests, to which Umbridge decides to add an additional 18 strikes “for an even 150 strokes.” Gathering her courage, Hermione chances a look out at her classmates. The Gryffindors are still furious, but have quieted down in fear of more strikes being added. The Slytherins—especially the males—seem to be excited, some nearly salivating at what is to come. The Hufflepuff table seems nervous and silent. Many of them look uncomfortable. And the Ravenclaws seem on edge, shuffling in their seats, but also look intrigued. Hermione vainly wonders for a moment if they’re happy to see her get punished; almost as if payback for overshadowing their house in academic performance. She lay on the mat and began doing something with her hand between her legs. He watched Abigail disappear into the bathroom. Her luminous white smile would be lighting my way every day. She laughed. I looked through her eyes, seeing the black figure that teemed from Willowbud’s thrusting body, showing Justina what I could teen see, but she could not. I pull out and then slam it back inside. "You know amateur this isn't right." Reach end of road I noticed the police car nearing our location and my heart started beating even quicker only for the police car to turn off onto the exit ramp to the Interstate Then a car pulled up three men got out, as they walked up Jerome said “Ralph this is Ed, Ed this is Ralph”. I sucked Webcams in a deep breath, eager to fuck her. My cheeks burned with the passion surging through my veins. I want to see a big load coming out of your big dick.” She purred, emphasizing all of the right words. “I don’t see the difference, Aaron.” "Never going to happen." She can barely talk- someone must have seen- it’s a fucking butt plug. Are you sure you’ll be busy? “Thanks Kayls, you’re a sweetheart. “What?” I ask her, looking her in the eyes for the first time since my cock was in her mouth. Didn't I deserve my own joy?