Severus Snape stalked the desolate halls of Hogwarts, prowling its hidden corners for rule breakers and troublemakers. Any students found out after curfew would be immensely sorry if caught by the dreaded Potions master. As his shift was almost over, Severus had worked his way toward the dungeons. Turning down a dimly lit corridor that led to a secret passageway to his office, he heard a muffled moan that was entirely out of place. Halting all movement, Snape held his breath and narrowed his eyes, waiting for the sound to guide him to the miscreants. The muffled whimpers of teenage fornication met his ears, and he followed the moaning to a large tapestry depicting a gory goblin rebellion, which hid a shortcut to the kitchens. The soft noises continued just behind the thick material.
Severus took a deep breath and yanked the tapestry aside. Blaise Zabini blinked up at him, looking coolly surprised by the interruption. Still pinned to the wall was an as-yet-unidentified girl, her leg hooked around Zabini’s hip; Blaise’s body kept her hidden. Sighing in annoyance, Snape rolled his eyes. “Zabini, get back to the common room.”
Blaise slunk away as fast as possible, a small smirk on his face. This wasn’t the first time the Potions master had caught Zabini with some horny little witch, and he doubted it would be the last. With Zabini gone, Snape’s attention was drawn back to the girl in question. Wide brown eyes peered up at him through curly brown tendrils. He would have recognized her immediately had she worn her hair down, but she had it pulled back off her face for a change.
“Well, well. Look who we have here.” A sneer curled his lip. “The golden girl of Gryffindor.”
Hermione stood defeated before him, wishing she could be anyplace else.
“Miss Granger, I’m surprised at you,” he chided. “Out past curfew doing Merlin-knows-what with the biggest womanizer Slytherin has seen since Lucius Malfoy himself.” Snape grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her toward his office. “Won’t Professor McGonagall be interested to hear all about this? And your little Gryffindor friends, won’t they be surprised to find out you’ve been fraternizing with the enemy after hours?”
Hermione winced more at the glee in his voice than the tight grip on her arm. Upon arrival to his office, he flung her into the chair that sat before his desk. “I’ll just Floo Professor McGonagall and ask her to come here straight away."
Hermione reached out in a pitiful attempt to stop him. “Please, Professor Snape, don’t tell. I’ll do anything."
To Hermione’s surprise, he paused and looked back at her. His eyes narrowed, studying her.
After several silent seconds, Severus raised an eyebrow in thought. Whatever the chit’s reasons were, he could only imagine. Although, she would be quite the talk of the school if this got out. “Anything, Miss Granger? You do realize with whom you're trying to make a deal, don’t you?”
Hermione flinched from his cold expression. Her brain was screaming at her that making deals with ex-Death Eaters was NOT a good idea. And the man before her was one she knew would take great pleasure in seeing her humiliated. On the other hand, she didn’t want this to get out. Disappointing McGonagall would tear her apart, and she’d never be able to explain why she’d been found in a compromising position with a Slytherin. Her friends would never forgive her. Especially Ron. He’d never ever understand. Hermione sighed in resignation. “Yes, I know. If you’ll keep this between us, I’ll accept any punishment you chose.”
Free to punish her in any manner he chose? Had Christmas come again already? He’d fantasized about getting back at the golden trio properly, but he never dreamed it could be a reality. A malicious grin spread across his face. “Then you are not nearly as intelligent as they claim you to be. Get up.”
Hermione stood from the straight-backed chair. She knew whatever he had in store for her would be torturous. She tried to steel herself for what might be coming. Slugs, Bubotuber pus, peeling Boomslang skins—whatever he chose was bound to be awful.
Snape grabbed her arm and spun her around. He was now sitting in the chair, and Hermione realized, far to late, that she was being pulled down across his lap. It happened so fast and was so completely unexpected that she couldn't even begin to fathom what he was doing. When she felt her skirt being pushed toward her waist, it suddenly dawned on her.
“Wait, sir,” Hermione gasped, trying to free herself. “Please don’t!”
Snape held her in place. “Miss Granger, you agreed to any punishment I saw fit. Are you going back on your word? Shall I go now and fetch your Head of House?”
Hermione stopped struggling and thought a moment before slumping in defeat. “No, sir.”
The smirk permanently planted itself on his face as he admired the round arse on his lap. He’d found an unplanned bonus upon lifting her skirt. Expecting sensible white cotton knickers, he had found black satin there instead.
“Black knickers, Miss Granger? You’re just full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?” he taunted.
Totally humiliated, tears pricked her eyes. And he hadn’t even begun yet.
“Have you ever been spanked, Miss Granger?”
Hermione bit her lip before answering quietly, “No, sir.”
Severus smiled to himself. This just kept getting better. “Then I’d brace myself if I were you.”
Snape lifted his hand and brought it down smartly across her bum.
She cried out, more in shock than pain.
Hermione had never been spanked, jokingly or seriously, in her entire life. Within seconds, each stroke transformed from a sharp sting to a deep burn. She unconsciously tried to get away from his punishing hand, but Snape grabbed her round the waist, preventing her escape.
“Stop struggling, girl,” Severus growled through clenched teeth.
Her leg muscles twitched with each blow. She desperately wanted to kick but forced herself not to fight it, hoping to end the punishment sooner.
Severus stopped after a minute to rest his hand and heard the sweet strains of her muffled sniffling. “Are you crying, Miss Granger?”
Hermione tried to keep her voice level. “Yes, sir.”
Severus grinned. “Good.”
Hermione’s tears trickled a short distance down her face before dropping to the floor with a silent splat. This was, bar none, the most humiliating thing to ever happen to her. Although, it could have been worse. Maybe. She couldn’t decide if being over Snape’s knee was worse than having everyone know about her after-hours escapades. No, she decided. This was short-lived. It would be over soon. The gossip and resulting taunting would go on endlessly.
Having logically thought out her choices, Hermione felt a bit better. Her moment of reprieve was cut short, however, when she felt her professor starting to slide her knickers over her hips. Her hand automatically shot back in an attempt to keep her underwear in its original and upright position.
Snape grabbed her wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.
Hermione went completely still across his lap, almost afraid to answer. “Please, sir. Don’t take off my knickers.”
“Keep your hands down,” was all he said before releasing her.
Hermione placed her fingertips back on the floor, fresh tears springing to her eyes.
Severus smiled to himself as he hooked his thumbs into her waistband and slid down the black satin to reveal her naked buttocks, already pink from the first round. She had an extremely fine arse, and he wondered how many bumbling boys had been graced with a view of it. Before that night he would have been sure the answer was zero . . . maybe one; but after catching her with Zabini, he wasn’t so sure.
When he pushed her knickers to her knees, Hermione lifted her hips and thighs a bit to release the fabric. She could feel his eyes examining her bare behind and couldn’t help shifting around in a futile attempt to hide.
Snape drew back his hand and brought it down hard across her right cheek. Mmmmm. Tonight’s entertainment is better than expected. The once pale globes of her bottom turned red under his repeated smacks. He watched, delighted, as each cheek bounced in turn.
Hermione’s resolve to remain still quickly dissolved as the burn in her bum started to spread. She swallowed hard and tried not to think about the growing ache between her thighs. This is not happening. My professor is punishing me, and I’m getting off on it. Why is this turning me on?
The flesh of his palm stung like pins and needles, so Severus stopped to give it a short break, and silence replaced the sound of skin smacking skin. He heard her relieved sigh and watched as she reached back to feel her sizzling skin. He let her rub for a couple seconds before he swatted away her hand. Readjusting his position, he prepared for the next round.
It was as he was leaning over her in this shifting that he caught the wafting scent of arousal. Severus froze, his brain clicking into primal mode. Perhaps it wouldn’t have affected him so greatly if it hadn’t been so long since he’d smelled a woman’s sex. But it had, indeed, been quite a long time.
“Tell me,” Snape smirked, “what were you doing out with a Slytherin past curfew?”
Hermione wiggled, trying to get some relief while also keeping her growing ache from detection. “I was meeting Zabini, sir.”
Snape rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know that much, Miss Granger. My question is WHY were you meeting Mr. Zabini?”
“Umm,” Hermione thought quickly. What answer was he looking for?
SMACK! His hand stopped her stalling.
“Every girl in this school knows what to expect when meeting Blaise. Especially after curfew. WHY is Gryffindor’s princess out meeting Slytherin’s bad boy?”
Hermione swallowed hard. “I just . . . I just wanted to . . . um,” she stammered.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Owww,” Hermione whimpered.
“Answer me, Miss Granger.”
“I wanted to see what it was like,” she blurted out, “to be with someone who knew what they were doing.”
Snape’s eyebrows rose. So she wants someone with experience. That shouldn’t surprise me. She’s always keen to learn something new. “I see.”
Hermione had no time to wonder at his line of questioning, as his hand, once again, took to her arse with white hot fury. She groaned at the increasing pain in her bum as well as the burning excitement in her core.
She was beginning to wonder if she'd been dropped on her head as an infant. What other explanation was there for feeling the way she did while her teacher assaulted her? Brain damage was the only logical conclusion she could come up with.
Severus observed her reaction to his discipline. Each hit obviously hurt, yet she pushed her backside into the air after each one as if asking for more. He stopped the raining blows and set his hand against her burning rump, idly rubbing the sting from her flesh.
Hermione tried to stifle a whimper as he stroked her. She didn’t want to admit the effect he was having on her (either to herself or him), but the feel of his hand was too much to bear.
Snape heard her whimpers and had to force himself not to groan in response. He watched his hand slide over her reddened backside, smoothing over the hills and valley of her upturned rump.
Hermione squeezed her eyes tight, clenching her teeth in an attempt to keep herself in check. She didn’t notice the ragged exhale she let escape.
“Had enough yet, Miss Granger?”
Hermione blinked. “Yes, sir?” Is this some kind of trick?
The corners of Snape’s mouth twitched up. “You don’t sound very sure. Perhaps we’re not finished here.”
Hermione couldn’t figure out what game he was playing. “I guess that’s up to you, sir.”
Severus restrained his chuckle. “I don’t know how much of a punishment this is for you. You do know you’re not supposed to enjoy this, don’t you?”
“I’m not, sir!” Oh gods, what does he know?
“Don’t lie to me, girl. Unless my sense of smell deceives me, you’ve been enjoying this quite a bit.”
Hermione’s eyes went wider, realizing what he’d just said. Bugger! It hadn’t crossed her mind that he could smell her response. What was he, part bloodhound with that damn nose? Bloody hell! What am I going to do now?
The night’s unexpected turn of events had Snape almost giddy (or as close to giddy as he could get). “Ah, yes. I can see the wheels in your head turning, trying to decide how to best explain away your body’s reactions,” he goaded her. “How about you answer me honestly for once and maybe I’ll scrounge up some pity for you. Tell me the truth, have you enjoyed being across my knee?”
Swallowing hard, Hermione’s reply came out as barely a whisper, “Yes.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
The sudden pain of his hand against her sore cheeks startled a cry from her lips.
“Louder! And you will address me as sir!”
Hermione’s face burned with embarrassment. She drew some comfort knowing he at least couldn’t see that. Taking a deep breath, she answered louder, “Yes, sir.”
Severus smirked triumphantly. “Well, who would have guessed the Gryffindor Princess was a masochist? I should have known sooner. How else could you be friends with Potter and Weasley?”
Hermione pressed her lips together to keep herself from taking his bait.
Snape’s smirk grew. He brought his hand to her smooth buttocks and slowly stroked. Goosebumps rose along the backs of her thighs, and he felt her shiver. “See? Telling the truth wasn’t so difficult. Let’s try again, shall we?”
Fighting her body, Hermione tried to prepare for his next question.
“Tell me, Miss Granger, what exactly were you planning to do with Blaise tonight?” He felt her tense immediately.
“I’m not sure, sir."
Severus let his fingers wander aimlessly over her backside. “Were you hoping he would get you as wet as you are now?”
Hermione could hear the laughter in his voice, but she kept her answer short and honest, hoping for early escape. “Yes, sir.”
He was impressed she was still telling the truth. He wanted to see how far he could push her. “Do you masturbate, Miss Granger?”
Her face burned brighter. Should she answer that? “Yes, sir," she ground out.
“Did you want Mr. Zabini to touch you the way you touch yourself?” Snape watched as her body continued to respond to his hands. Her hips circled as he traced the redness from the spanking down her upper thighs.
"I’m not sure, sir."
Snape’s eyebrows rose at this news. “Have you never had some fumbling boy’s fingers inside you, Miss Granger?”
Hermione felt like crying. Why was her body doing this to her? Why had she ever agreed to this? What had she been thinking? “No, sir.”
His fingers slid lightly toward the juncture of her thighs but stopped just short of her pubic hair. Hermione’s hips moved against her will, her sex trying to find its own relief. She felt the cool air of the dungeon against the heat of her pussy. She couldn't remember ever being so wet before.
He watched her closely, gauging her reactions. Snape’s eyes darkened with lust as she arched toward his hand, her thighs parting in invitation. He let his fingertip graze the tips of her pubic hair. It was damp.
Hermione shuddered. She heard someone say “please” and then realized, in horror, it was her own voice.
Jaw now tight, smirk gone, Severus stared at the back of her head. Had she just begged him for more? His fingers moved toward the heat of her core, testing. Her thighs parted again, further this time; and he distinctly heard her whimper. His finger detoured to the side, finding the sensitive bit of skin where her thigh met her pelvis. “Shall I stop?”
Hermione heard the change in his voice. Once cruel and accusing, it was now deep and gravelly. It seemed to match the ache between her legs. Was she affecting him? The thought of making her professor want her sexually pushed her closer to the edge. “Please, sir," she begged in a small voice. “Please don’t stop.”
Snape’s nostrils flared, his gaze fixed intently at the crux of her thighs as he approached his goal. He let one long digit slide through her wetness, down to her clit. She’s positively dripping. Her back arched further, hips rolling in anticipation. He grazed her clit, and she bucked against his hand. A satisfied smirk spread across his lips as he trailed his finger slowly through her folds, back to the indention of her entrance. Barely moving, he teased the opening of her pussy, not pushing in, just resting at the edge.
A sob burst from her lips. “Please, sir!”
That whimpering was music to his ears. He slowly eased inside, her heat and wetness engulfing the thin digit. Bloody hell, she’s tight. The walls of her pussy clung to their intruder. He wiggled his finger around inside her before pulling it out and adding another. She hissed at the stretch. Slowly, he pumped his fingers deep before twisting them back out. After she seemed to warm up to the feeling, he turned his palm to the floor and pressed against her front wall. Deftly, he found her g-spot and rubbed.
Hermione felt as if she had landed in some alternate universe. Snape was making her body feel things she’d never felt before. He was making her moan. His hands were beyond magic. She was already on the edge of climax. Then his thumb found her stiff nub, and she fell, floating on wave after wave of pleasure. For once, her brain turned off; instead of thinking, her mind found a blissful void.
Her incredible tightness smothered his fingers as she clenched around him in release. The feral grin on Snape’s mouth widened when she cried out. There was a small gush of juice against his hand, and Severus watched as the girl turned boneless over his lap.
Slowly, Hermione regained conscious thought and became aware of Snape’s arousal pressing against her hip. He gently removed his hand from her, and a strange feeling of emptiness invaded her sex.
Snape leaned back in the chair, releasing her. He expected her to jump up and run away in embarrassment. Instead, she slid to the floor, her knickers twisted round her ankles.
Hermione looked up at him, nervous to see his reaction. Her gaze, lingering for a moment on the hands that had just brought her such pleasure, moved to the tent of his trousers. Her head spun. Had she done that to him? Did she turn him on?
Following the focus of her gaze, Snape watched in amusement as she stared hungrily at his crotch. Although shocked at what had just transpired, he didn’t feel guilty. She’d been given the chance to stop it and, instead of doing so, had begged for more. He was only a man, and he did have needs. Besides, she was old enough to know whether she wanted her professor’s fingers in her twat.
“Sir? May I . . . ?” Her confidence seemed to disintegrate just as suddenly as it had appeared, and her eyes found the floor.
“If you have something to say, girl, you had better say it now.”
Hermione felt her cheeks redden, but she took a deep breath and spoke quickly before she lost her nerve again. “May I help you with that?” Her eyes indicated his erection. She avoided looking directly at him.
Had she looked at his face, she would have seen her professor in a rare moment of overt surprise. Snape stared at her, dumbfounded. Obviously the girl was still feeling the mind-numbing effects of her orgasm. He could think of no other reason behind such a request.
Raising an eyebrow, he answered her with a slight nod. Hermione pushed her knickers off her feet so she wouldn’t get tangled in them then rose until she was kneeling in front of him. She glanced at him for some kind of reassurance or instruction. No such luck. He was giving her a look that seemed to say “let’s see that Gryffindor bravery now.” Then, as if to accentuate the dare, he opened his thighs to her. Biting her lip, Hermione ran her shaking hands over his wool trousers, feeling the solidity of his muscles beneath the rough fabric. She hesitated only a second upon reaching the tense bulge behind his placket.
Severus watched as her trembling hands explored his cock through his clothing. He stifled a groan but was unable to contain a sharp inhale when her fingers began searching for the zip. She found the button at the top and began to unfasten his fly. There was a brief moment of relief for him when she finally succeeded and he could breathe again.
Hermione’s eyes went wide as he pushed his boxers down below his balls. She’d seen pictures in books, but this was entirely different. It seemed much bigger than she’d imagined and looked almost angry—swollen and reddish.
“Well, get on with it.” The corners of his mouth curled upward. “It won’t bite, you know.”
Tentatively, Hermione reached out and ran her fingertips over the bulging head. His cock twitched in response, and she jerked away. “It moved,” she reported.
For the first time in Hermione’s life, she heard her professor laugh. It was more of a low chuckle, and she looked at him, wondering if he’d gone mad. She’d never even seen him so much as smile before.
It sounded as though he was fighting the laughter as he spoke, “It’ll do that from time to time.” Severus held out his hand to her and softly commanded, “Give me your hand.”
Hermione let him guide her back to his erection. Closing her hand around his shaft, he covered it with his own. His organ jumped again, but this time their combined grip left her feeling less frightened. Now it felt more like a pulsing inside her fist. Snape slowly released her and let her take it on her own. She was surprised how soft the skin on his dick felt, like Egyptian cotton wrapped around an iron pole. Her fingers examined every vein and ridge as if she were trying to memorize it for a test.
Ever the apt pupil, Hermione noted each time his breath hitched or he inhaled sharply, knowing she was making him as crazy as he’d made her. Gradually, she moved to his balls, stroking them, rubbing softly, testing their weight. Then she noticed a small bit of moisture leaking from the tip of his dick.
“Is this pre-cum?” She ran her fingertip through the shine and gathered it up for closer inspection.
“Yes,” he breathed, watching as she rubbed the droplet between her thumb and forefinger, feeling its consistency. “Taste it.”
Without thinking twice, Hermione brought her fingers to her lips, a look of wonder plastered across her face. Her tongue poked out and licked his fluid from her thumb before sliding her forefinger into her mouth and sucking it clean.
This did elicit a growl from Snape. “Give me your hand again.”
Hermione did as she was told and watched intently as he wrapped her fingers around his shaft, this time more firmly, and began to move it up and down. She understood immediately. She was giving her most dreaded professor a handjob, and Merlin help her, she was enjoying it. She could think of nothing but making him orgasm. She wanted him to lose control because of her and what she was doing to him.
Once she had found the rhythm, Snape let go of her hand. As usual, she proved to be a fast learner and an excellent student.
His cock began to weep once more, the pearly liquid hypnotizing her. Her vision became unfocused; all she could see was the light reflecting off the moisture at the tip. Leaning forward, Hermione dragged her tongue across his engorged head, licking away the evidence of his lust.
“Bloody fucking hell,” he muttered as a shiver rolled down his spine. What was she trying to do to him?
A triumphant smile lit Hermione’s face. “More?” she asked coyly.
“Yes,” he hissed. Was she mad? Of course he wanted more!
Her tongue lapped happily at his cock, and his eyes rolled back in his head before he could close them. Teeth clenched, he managed to growl at her, “Put it between your lips so I can fuck that smart little mouth of yours.”
His hands moved to the sides of her face, and he slowly slid his swollen dick into her hot mouth. “Don’t stop using your tongue,” he instructed. She did as requested, and he pulled her face over his straining flesh again and again. When his knob hit the back of her throat, she gagged. Staying calm, Severus moved one hand to his side and found his wand as he spoke, “That’s all right; just relax.”
Hermione’s eyes watered profusely; she briefly wondered if anyone had ever choked to death while giving head. The tip of his wand ran down her throat, and the esophageal tickle died along with the tightness of constriction.
Tucking his wand back in his robes, he answered her question before she could ask. “No more gagging.”
Relieved, Hermione eyed his crotch with renewed enthusiasm.
Severus smirked. “You like sucking cock, don’t you?”
Her glassy eyes met his, and she smiled slightly. I guess I do. “Yes, sir.”
“Then get back to it.”
Hermione licked him from root to tip, making sure to get every inch wet. Becoming inspired, she moved lower, lapping his bollocks as if they were melting chocolate. This earned her a heated growl, so she ignored the tiny hairs tickling her face and got closer, sucking one into her mouth. A murmured "fuck" slipped from his lips, and she smiled around his sac.
“Dammit, girl, get back to my cock,” Snape hissed.
Hermione was only too happy to accept this new assignment. Grasping the base with one hand, she reapplied herself to his glistening prick.
Severus watched her through half-lidded eyes. It felt as if her tongue had a mind of its own, that wet muscle never stopping, pushing him closer to release. He fought the building pleasure, trying to keep it going as long as possible. Despite his efforts his resolve began to slip away. All restraint was lost when he felt his head slide a little ways down her throat.
Grabbing the sides of her face, Snape forced her to meet his eyes. She looked at him with unveiled lust, his sex halfway in her mouth as he ground out his final order. “Swallow it all.”
Hermione’s mind raced. Swallow?
Severus grunted as his balls tightened and the first shocks of his orgasm hit.
Understanding slowly dawned on Hermione, and she wondered just how much was going to come out. There was no more time for thinking; she felt the first warm spurts on the back of her tongue. His hands grasped her head while his hips bucked spastically into her face. She swallowed every time he withdrew, afraid to stop. How much semen would it take to drown a person?
Having been alone for so long, Severus came even harder, the feeling blissfully different from his own hand. He groaned through every second of sweet release.
Glancing down, he saw Granger looking almost angelic with her tear-stained face and her lips wrapped around his erection. The last of the aftershocks tore through his body, and he carefully pulled himself from her mouth. His brain had gone wonderfully numb, and he didn’t want the know-it-all to spoil his one chance at relaxation. But instead of speaking, she just smiled shyly and turned to find her knickers. Snape kept an eye on her as he tucked himself back into his trousers. When she picked up her knickers, he forced himself to speak. “Leave them.”
Surprised, Hermione turned to him. “Sir?”
Severus sighed. “Bring them here.”
She handed him her panties and watched, confused, as he turned them until he found the crotch. One finger stroked the wet gusset, and Hermione went red as a beet.
“Go now. And,“ he added, slipping her knickers into his pocket, “I take it you won’t be telling anyone about this.” A glimpse of his usual threatening glare crossed his face.
Hermione was speechless. He hadn’t sounded angry or regretful. He did, however, sound tired. She slowly shook her head no in response to his comment.
Dismissing her with a wave of his hand, he drawled, “Go to bed, Miss Granger.”
She got up and walked toward his office door, hardly believing the turn her night had taken.
“Your own bed, Miss Granger.”
Smiling as she reached the doorknob, Hermione paused on her way out. “Thank you, Professor. I think I’ve learned my lesson.”
Snape didn’t turn in time to catch her smile, just the click of the door shutting. He smirked. “You’re very welcome,” he said to himself before reaching into his pocket and stroking the damp satin. “It’s been a pleasure teaching you.”
A wicked grin spread across his face as he headed toward his bed for some much needed sleep.