What Am I Going to Do With You?

Ero's face flushes a deep crimson, his shame palpable as he places his hands behind his head as instructed. Hermione, with her long, graceful fingers, begins to unbutton his shirt, her touch deft and confident. She slides the fabric off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. A wicked grin spreads across her lips as she unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his pants, and slowly pulls down the zipper, her fingertips brushing against his growing erection.

With gentle tugs, she pulls his pants down to his ankles.

“Step out, please, Mr. Apostasia,” she commands, her voice firm yet playful. Ero obeys, kicking his pants aside.

He stands there, clad only in a pair of tight, shiny boxer briefs adorned with golden snitches, before Hermione Jean Granger, Prefect on Duty.

“Now for the pièce de résistance,” Hermione giggles, her fingertips grazing his bulge, which is now straining against the fabric of his underwear.

She slips her fingers into the waistband, never breaking eye contact. With a smirk, she pulls his underwear down, exposing him completely. His erection springs free, bobbing slightly, eliciting a giggle from Hermione.

Ero looks anywhere but at her, his embarrassment overwhelming. He feels her hand wrap around his length, her fingers curling around the shaft, tickling and sliding up the vein to the sensitive underside of the head. Her other hand cups his testicles, rolling them gently between her fingers, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. He fears that if she doesn’t stop, he’ll climax right then and there, and he’s certain the punishment for such a transgression would be severe.

“Look at me, Mr. Apostasia.”

Ero forces himself to meet her triumphant gaze, his eyes welling up with tears of humiliation and arousal. He can’t believe how hard he is, how his body is betraying him as Hermione holds him quite literally by the balls.

“What should I do with you, Ero? Hmmm? What shall be done to the naughty schoolboy who decided to make it rain girls' knickers from the rafters? What punishment is suitable for such a naughty boy such as yourself?”

A tear rolls down Ero's cheek, followed by another.

“I-I don’t know, miss,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

“Well, fortunately for you, I do know, Mr. Apostasia. Unfortunately for you, the punishment will indeed fit the crime.”

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the classroom door. Ero’s blood runs cold. No, this cannot be happening.

Reading his mind, Hermione laughs.

“Right on time,” she says, her voice laced with amusement. “Come in, girls.”