Chapter Eight
Chapter 8 of 13
TeddyRadiatorIn the ten years since the Battle of Hogwarts, Severus Snape has worked very hard to free himself from his old life in order to become a respected Headmaster. Of course, his wife Hermione loves him regardless, but will an innocent board game change the entire future of their marriage, not to mention Severus' view of his own kindler, gentler self?
Written as a gift for the incomparable Subvers in the LJ 2011 SSHG Exchange.
Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed so far - you've made my day!
I want to just put in another thanks to stgulik, my incredible beta, for making this particular chapter flow. She instructed me to craft it like 'an Aleister Crowley incantation', and I tried to do my best.
Please note that this chapter contains very graphic sexual content involving light bondage and discipline. The acts are safe, sane and consensual, and intended to give pleasure, not to inflict harm, but this is totally unsuitable for persons under eighteen years of age.
The only thing I would like is to have more control of the game in terms of possession. Jose Mourinho
Hermione landed on her hands and knees with a muttered "Shit!" under her breath, still clutching the tiny key. Portkey travel was the least enjoyable of Wizarding modes of transportation, even if it was the most efficient.
Standing up and brushing off her robes, Hermione looked around with a gasp. She was in what could only be a large cave, buried deep in the rock. The air was fresh, and left a salty tang on her tongue. She could hear the distant booming of surf, leading her to believe the cave must be on the coast.
The walls glittered with geodes, and the floor was so even as to appear magically leveled. Torchlight refracted gemstones in every corner; crystals of quartz, amethyst, citrine, aquamarine, emerald, ruby. Every colour of the rainbow was represented - warm, soothing kaleidoscopes of light and shade that could only be produced with powerful magic. A faint sound echoed throughout the space, like low, deep bells chiming in the wind, lulling her. Hermione had never seen or heard anything so beautiful.
As she turned toward the inside of the cave, her breath caught. Deeply cut into the side wall, a huge fireplace stood, its mantle made of crystal geodes. A roaring fire blazed within, giving the enormous space warmth. The firelight reflected in the crystals, making them gleam with unspeakable splendor.
A massive bed stood guard in one corner, its ebony posts rising impossibly high. Carvings of vines and flowers magically bloomed and shifted on the tall beams and the head and footboard, entwining over the bed itself. It was heaped with pillows and quilts of fine silk and velvet in shades of green varying from deep emerald to sage. They simply begged to be touched and laid upon. It was the most hedonistic bed Hermione had ever seen; it was all she could do not to tear her clothing from her body and lie down upon it.
Above the headboard was a huge picture rendered in stained and coloured glass. It illustrated a couple making love on the same bed that stood before it. As the man's head turned toward her, Hermione gasped with shock. It was her husband, his face transported with rapture. He lowered his lips against the woman's throat, and Hermione recognised her own countenance, alight with passion. Her body in the picture arched into her lover's kiss, writhing against Severus in erotic torment. She could not take her eyes from the sight of the dark wizard rearing above her body. It was so real as to appear like a Muggle movie projected onto a stained-glass screen.
Finally, tearing her eyes away from the two lovers, she peered down into the darkness. The cave was vast; she could not see the far end of it, even though torch-like sconces marched down the walls toward the inner walls deep inside.
"I trust you're unharmed from the journey." Hermione jumped with a little squeak of surprise, and from the impenetrable depths of the cave emerged her husband.
His pale face seemed to float from the misty gloom around him, and as he appeared, the sconces behind him blazed into life. His robe was the same unfathomable black of his eyes, and he moved with somber, unsmiling grace, his face haughty and ethereal. He looked like a pagan Prince of Darkness; proud, cruel, fierce.
No one knew how to make an entrance like Severus Snape.
To cover up her nervousness, Hermione laughed shortly. "Yes, I'm fine!" she replied, taking a shaky breath to calm her racing heart. Looking around, she asked, "What is this place? It's incredible!"
He was as still as a stone, watching her intently. Finally, when he spoke, his beautiful voice raced around the cave, until it felt as if it surrounded her on all sides. "I will answer your questions in time. For now, you are required only to speak when I give you permission. Do you accept this?"
Hermione's heart stuttered in her chest. In her initial excitement, she had almost forgotten why she had been Portkeyed here. "Yes, sir."
"Good girl," he purred, and held out his hand to her. "Come." She gratefully melted into his embrace, and gave a soft cry of fulfillment as his long arms wrapped around her invitingly.
As she pressed longingly against his lean frame, she asked breathlessly, "Did I please you?"
She could hear his voice vibrating like a low bell in his chest. "You have pleased me very much, Hermione. This calls for a special reward. We will begin." He stepped away from her, and turned to escort her deep into the back of the cave. Obediently, Hermione followed her husband into the depths. Never had she felt so feverish with want. This was it. The moment she had longed for. She had no doubt that whatever she needed, Severus would make it so.
They walked through a long, narrow tunnel, the lights blazing into life as they passed. As they walked, Severus explained, "This cave once belonged to Dumbledore. We are on the coast of Ireland. Years ago, when you were still in school in fact, Dumbledore brought me here after my first summons when Riddle returned."
He continued as they walked, "During the war, I would often come here to recover from my meetings with Riddle and the Death Eaters. This cave became my refuge, my sanity-preserver."
Hermione watched him as they moved deeper into the recesses. Severus kept his eyes forward, moving slowly, down into the depths of the cave. "Dumbledore deeded me the cave. I found myself drawn back to this spot upon his death, and for awhile, after I recovered from the war, I actually lived here."
There were so many questions Hermione wanted to ask, but he had not as yet given her permission to speak. Severus continued, "When you and I agreed to enter this ... agreement, I knew this was the perfect place; away from the prying eyes of Hogwarts, away from everything you had ever known, so that I was your only fixed point of reference." He stopped, and took her hand in his. "I had never considered bringing you here before, because until now, this was a place that I only associated with pain, anger and despair. I did not want to expose you to those things.
"Many nights after having to bear witness to the atrocities performed in the Dark Revels, being forced to participate or to observe, I would retreat to this place. I would weep, scream the walls down, drink myself to insensibility, all the while cursing Tom Riddle and Dumbledore. Sometimes, even Potter and you," he said, a note of regret in his voice. "Mostly myself. This cave became my counselor; it has listened to my ravings and my plots and my hurt, and the walls have absorbed them. There is darkness here; but it is my darkness. I knew this would be the place in which to initiate you."
He looked down at her. "The darkness has changed, but the passions and desires I left behind remain here. They are waiting for you, and some of them will frighten you." His voice was a low throbbing whisper. With a smirk, he added, "Are you afraid?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, sir," she replied, her voice suspiciously hoarse. If she were a betting witch, she would have laid odds he was thinking one word: Gryffindor.
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. "Perhaps you should be. We'll see." The smile that had played on his lips faded, and he added, "What have you decided will be your safe word?"
Hermione, momentarily derailed at this seemingly non sequitor, blankly replied, "Safe word?"
Severus nodded, a look of haughty disdain in his eyes. "A safe word is used when "
"F-forgive me, sir," Hermione answered, her voice unsteady. "I understand the concept of a safe word, but I didn't think-"
"No, you did not. Hence, the interruption," he drawled. With exaggerated patience, he explained, "Our interactions here together will cause you to experience a heightened... intensity, shall we say, which may overwhelm you. I will assure you, Miss Granger, begging me to stop will not be an option. Your cries for mercy will only make me ..." he smiled wolfishly. "Push. You. Harder."
Hermione suddenly felt very young and inexperienced next to his cold elegance. She tried to speak, but her mouth was dry.
"Well, pet? What is your safe word?" Each word was spoken with trip-hammer precision, as low and deadly as a viper. Hermione felt a sense of déjà vu that was frightening and exciting in equal measures. It was like being eighteen again, alone with her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I will do unspeakable things to Miss Granger, and I will enjoy doing them.
She looked up at his face; he waited with thinly disguised impatience for her answer. Fearful that her hesitation would further displease him, she said the first word that came into her head. "Bumbershoot."
Severus looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes. "Indeed."
Hermione felt confused. "Does this mean that, if I say my safe word, we won't umm," she hesitated, unsure how to word her misgivings correctly. Finally, she said, weakly, "Does this mean we would leave and never return to to this?"
Severus regarded her thoughtfully. "That remains to be seen, pet. For now, it means we will stop what we are doing, and try to redress the balance, as it were. Do you understand?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir."
Severus nodded, and raised his arm, like a conductor preparing to give a downbeat. The last of the wall sconces flared to life, and the walls of the cave were bathed in warm, flickering light. Severus beckoned to her. "This is your last chance to turn away, Hermione. Enter this chamber with me, and you accept all that is contained therein." He held out his hand, his cool dominance surrounding him like smoke and vapour.
Hermione could feel her hand shake as she placed her smaller hand in his. The light in the very back of the cave rose, bringing the room into view, glowing with a deep, crimson light.
She gasped. It was like looking into a medieval torture chamber.
A huge, X-shaped cross stood on one side of the floor, bristling with restraints. On one wall hung several different floggers, ranging from small paddles to a cat-o-nine tails, made from strips of soft leather. There were silken scarves, leather straps, and chains made of heavy links. An unusual chair sat on the side of the room, its arms seemingly floating independently from the rest of the chair. In the middle, a large, padded table stood waist high. It looked like something that would be found in a Muggle doctor's surgery. It, too, was covered in restraints, straps, and buckles.
Hermione stepped into the room, her heart pounding so fast she felt close to hyperventilating. So absorbed was she that when Severus placed his hand on the back of her neck she jumped a little, and he chuckled darkly.
"Afraid now, Miss Granger?"
After a moment's hesitation, Hermione nodded. She was afraid to speak, afraid she might cry. In that moment, she was as close as she would ever come to turning around and telling him she had changed her mind.
The hand on her neck was firm, and he whispered into her ear, "You should be afraid. Fear will feed my desire, pet. If you are frightened, it will be because you wish to be frightened. Do you honestly believe that anything in this room will be done without your consent?"
Hermione shook her head, relieved. "No sir." She tried to stop trembling, but he was right. The adrenaline that had been fueled by fear was turning to lust in her blood, rushing through her veins with spiky anticipation. "I want this. I want everything you wish me to experience."
"Good girl," he breathed in her ear, caressing it with his lips, and Hermione's pussy clenched almost painfully. From behind, Severus held out his hand. "Your wand."
Obediently, Hermione placed her wand in his waiting palm. At that moment, she turned and glanced upward into his eyes. He looked imperious and a little aloof, and this excited her as well as worried her a little. He knew better than most how frightening it was for anyone to relinquish their wand to another. He also knew how intimidating he could be, and he did nothing to alleviate her unease.
He stepped back, and Hermione heard him whisper, "Lavestitus!" A strange movement at her shoulders made Hermione shiver, and she watched in surprise as her clothing literally melted from her body, as if it had turned to chocolate and was sliding down her skin, leaving Hermione completely naked. The air in the cave seemed to drop several degrees, and she began to tremble, whether from fear or anticipation, she was not sure. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her breasts from the cold and her insecurity.
"Arms down." His voice was not loud, but carried such silken menace that Hermione obeyed instantly. She stood very still as he walked slowly around her, hands behind his back. It reminded Hermione of her old professor, stalking through a Potions lecture; wary and watchful, in his element, in command.
"Lovely. Skin like alabaster," he murmured, his voice soft and sinister. Warm fingers glided across her back, down over the smooth skin of her thighs. His large hand cupped her bottom, and she closed her eyes, reveling in the touch he had denied her for the past three days.
"So soft," he purred, and his drifting fingers traced the cleft of her bottom from the top of her spine to her thighs. "And so wet I can smell it." His voice sounded coldly ragged, then it changed again, became menacing, more velvety as he leaned in close. "Have you abstained? Have you saved yourself for me?"
"No. I mean, yes, I have abstained," Hermione added hastily, and fought the urge to beg to be touched.
He nodded slowly, as if trying to make up his mind about something. "It seems you are trying very hard to be a good girl." He could see her shiver at his soft, silvery tone. As if on cue, he stepped out of arm's reach, holding out his hand. He was quiet and unsmiling. "We will see how long that will last. Your key, Miss Granger."
Hermione looked at him blankly, then understanding dawned, along with a quiet, "Oh! Of course." She placed the tiny key in his hand. It looked positively miniscule in his large palm, and when he closed his hand over it, she felt a burst of magic emanate from him in a long, rolling wave that almost made her knees buckle.
To Hermione, feeling Severus' magic ripple over her body was liminal, subtle and elegant. It was like the minute trace of a Northern accent that gave a smoky tone to his mesmeric voice. It was the scent of him, fresh from bathing, warm and spicy. It was part of him, and now, concentrated as it was on her, it had the visceral impact of a lust potion, making her vision double and her thighs dampen. He smirked knowingly, and Hermione felt a rather fraught yearning, exhausted as she was from a mere three days of this dark, insidious initiation into submission.
Severus lifted her chin with a long, slender finger. In his darkest, most seductive tone, he purred, "Now, my slave, are you ready to wear my chains?"
Hermione glanced into the room at the large chains hanging innocuously on the walls. She shivered, and her voice shook as she answered, "Yes, sir."
Severus chuckled, and when he opened his hand, the key was gone, and in its place were two bracelets, made of impossibly tiny, perfect chains.
"These are very old, goblin-wrought bracelets. They were once used by Masters to identify slaves." His dark eyes bore into hers. "I place them on your wrists as a reminder of my ownership of your heart, and of your submission. Once they go around your wrists, only I may remove them again. Only you and I will know their true meaning." His eyes glowed like black opals; she thrilled to see such fire in them. "Do you accept my chains, Hermione?"
Hermione nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
He looked down his large nose at her. "Then accept them as a slave accepts them. By paying honour to your Master." She looked at him blankly, and he sneered and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. "On your knees, little girl. Head down, arms up, palms facing upward." He pushed gently. "Down."
She felt lightheaded, almost outside herself, as she knelt before her husband on the cold floor of the cave. It was surreal; as if they were performing an ancient ritual, whose magic was long lost to all but themselves. Severus looked down on her, his face stern, his breathing slow and measured. He looked at once like the younger man she'd known as a student, and the eternal dark, pagan Lord of the Underworld; Persephone's mate and Master, offering his dark pleasure at a price.
Hermione bowed her head submissively. She could only really see the bottom of his robes and the soft leather of his boots as he finally approached her.
"I am pleased. Look at me." Hermione obeyed, and watched as Severus placed a bracelet on each wrist. They weighed absolutely nothing; it was as if they weren't there at all.
"So delicate," Hermione whispered, knowing that goblin-made jewelry was stronger than any other in the world. As fragile and insubstantial as they seemed, she knew they would never break. Severus' large warm hands closed easily over her wrists, and with his whispered incantation, Hermione felt the chains mold to her wrists. When he released her hands, Hermione looked at her 'chains.' The bracelets gleamed softly, as thin as cobwebs, as dainty as gossamer, encircling her possessively.
She looked up at him, smiling her gratitude, and he pulled her to her feet. For a moment, they both stood, simply looking down at the silver bracelets; Severus, with arrogant pride and ownership, Hermione, as if only now realizing the full implications of their significance.
As she stood, waiting, Severus placed his hands on her shoulders and quickly spun her around to face the room. "It is time for your first lesson, pet. It is about obedience and trust." He leaned toward her, whispering in her ear. "You must trust me, Miss Granger. I know what you want. I know what you need."
"I trust you, sir," she said, and clenched her fists to calm her trembling. He noticed, of course, and awarded her with a complacent smile.
"Good girl." He rewarded her with a careless smack on her bottom, and propelled her forward with a gentle pushing motion. "Lie down on the table, face up, with your head at the far end. Go now." He was in full Master mode, and Hermione moved rather unsteadily over to the table, fully aware of his eyes burning a trail down her back.
The surface was wide and covered with padded leather. Metal studs held the padding in place. After a moment's hesitation, she climbed onto the table and lay down, feet together, hands crossed over her stomach, trying fruitlessly to calm her pounding heart.
The lamps lowered slightly, and Severus appeared in her peripheral vision. He gazed down on her, his dark eyes sweeping over her naked body. In all their years together, Hermione had never felt so exposed before him as she did now. She shivered, and was not surprised that her legs were trembling. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax. Her flesh was peppered with goosebumps, and she thought she must look hideously unattractive, lying here so stiffly.
She closed her eyes, and jumped slightly as his hands closed over hers and stretched her arms over her head, making her feel even more vulnerable to his gaze. Even with her eyes closed, she could practically feel the heat from his intense concentration of her body. In that moment, as she glanced up at her husband's detached, unreadable expression, Hermione would have given anything to know what he was thinking.
As if sensing her thoughts, Severus' expression changed; his eyelids took on a heavy look. His parted lips spoke of an underlying arousal as he caressed her face gently, then allowed his hand to glide sensuously down her throat, her collarbone. His feather-light fingertips blazed a trail of fire over her skin. She was actually surprised not to see any mark left in their wake, like a vapour trail across the sky.
His slender fingers traced the old scar she had received from Dolohov's curse during her fifth year at Hogwarts, following it as it twisted across her chest. A well-trimmed nail scratched across the top of one painfully taut nipple, and she hissed and exhaled a shuddering breath. She forced herself to watch him as he caressed and rolled her nipples between his fingers with clinical detachment.
A gentle tug here, a tweak there, and Hermione felt lightheaded with arousal. He leaned down, and, without allowing any other part of his body to come in contact with her, he closed his warm, wet mouth over a nipple, and she mewled helplessly. Her hands fluttered up to touch him, but he moved away from her before she could caress him.
"No." He looked down on her with a small, disapproving frown. "You have not earned the right to touch me. Place your arms back over your head." He smiled sensuously. "That position does very nice things for your breasts."
Hermione closed her eyes and slowly returned her arms above her. Unconsciously she arched her back to him. He smiled. "Very nice," he drawled, and bit his lip as he flicked her nipple. She whimpered at the sudden combination of pleasure and pain. "That's it. Present them to me, Miss Granger." Hermione whimpered softly under her breath as he repeated the act with both breasts. She cried out and squirmed restlessly.
"Such impatience, Miss Granger. One would think you wanted to be disciplined," he purred, sounding every inch the menacing, dark Death Eater of old. His dark chuckle made her shiver. "If it's discipline you crave, then discipline you shall receive." His voice took on a more steely edge. "Knees up. Part your thighs."
Hermione obeyed him instantly, trembling as the cool air came in contact with the moist heat of her sex. She was shivering, and looked at him beseechingly, but he met her eyes with the same flat, haughty stare she had often received from him in Potions class. The heat of his gaze alone seemed to increase the temperature of the room.
For almost a solid minute, Hermione lay quietly, feeling alternately nervous and aroused, and Severus merely watched her. He did not touch her, or speak, only watched. As she grew accustomed to the awkward position, her thighs relaxed more. This must have been what Severus was waiting for, and he began to circle the table like a bird of prey. "I would ask if you were aroused, but I don't have to. I can smell you." He gave her a wolfish grin.
Hermione felt almost out of her body. In the long years she had known Severus Snape, he had never said things like this to her before. Tears threatened. He leaned over her, his raven hair curtaining his face, and whispered another spell. Magical ropes slid around her wrists and held them fast. She felt a moment's panic as the coiling restraints pinned her to the table, and she pulled against them. Severus watched her intently, his soft voice ominous and precise. "I would advise you not to struggle, Miss Granger. I would not be pleased if you hurt yourself."
She forced herself to remain still as the magical bonds wrapped themselves around her thighs and calves. They pulled her legs apart until her knees almost rested on the table. She was pinned open like a specimen in a lab.
And through it all, Severus circled, unsmiling, his eyes fierce and unreadable, his demeanor intractable. His robes seemed to move of their own accord, graceful as a dancer. In spite of her trepidation, Hermione marveled at him; he was, in his own austere aesthetic way, so beautiful it awed her.
He reached the end of the table and looked at her. From her perspective, he looked ... displeased. His eyes met hers, and he crossed his arms. Another hissed spell and her entire body shifted down to the end of the table, until her bottom was perched on the edge. Hermione gasped, as he looked down at her, open and waiting.
Severus drew his wand from his sleeve, and pointed it at the soft nest of curls on her mound. Hermione felt a tingling sensation, followed by a shock of cool air. The hair on her pubis was gone. He stepped back, as if to admire his handiwork. "While I do not prefer you shaved, for our purposes tonight, your cunt will be bare." He sounded at once decadent and detached, and this ramped her excitement up to a painful peak.
Severus reached forward and caressed the newly bared flesh with the back of his hand. Hermione whimpered shamelessly; she had never felt so exposed, yet so aroused. She could only imagine what she looked like, her labia wantonly wet and invitingly open.
His voice echoed through the chamber. "I find I am ... disappointed at your lack of trust." He looked solemnly at her, and moved around to the side of the table, and he sighed. And waited. Hermione watched him, breathless.
He was as still as the rocks surrounding them. In spite of the chilling air, Hermione felt sweat bead at her temples. Severus remained unmoved. Except for the rise and fall of his chest, he could have been a statue.
The blow came from nowhere, so lightning fast Hermione screamed before she registered it. It was a hard, flat smack, with the full force of his hand. It landed in the cleft of her labia and the epicenter was her swollen, distended clitoris.
Hermione gasped as the stinging sensation made her pant; another blow, in the same place, and the wet, smacking sound of his hand against her drenched sex both shamed and thrilled her. Another two slaps fell in rapid succession.
It was pain and it was not pain. It stung her labia and jolted her clitoris with deep, electrical vibrations, causing her folds to swell and engorge with blood until her entire quim was aflame with sensation, causing her heart to pound and her thighs to tremble with each blow.
He struck her without emotion, merely watching her face as his large hand smacked her over and over, until she whimpered and tears slipped from her closed eyes. She lost count of the blows, until she was arching up from the table to meet them. Her labia felt thick and she could feel each burning heartbeat in the bare, exposed flesh.
"Look at me." Hermione looked up into the eyes of her husband, and whispered his name.
It was still Severus, but augmented to the point that Hermione shook her head to clear her vision. He looked down her with eyes that were on fire. There was a faint glow to his pale skin, and he was breathing hard, as if his exertions had winded him. He sneered at her with a look of pure, raw, sexual power that made Hermione mewl at him. He laughed, and it was not her husband's laugh.
"What a lovely sight," he purred, and he leaned forward toward her, and pulled back sharply, as if warring with himself. Hermione shook. "Your little wet cunt is so plump and red."
It occurred to her that her husband could make any word sound like a benediction and an obscenity at once. The word cunt, spoken in his clipped, smoked voice sounded like a Dark incantation.
He stopped spanking her, and played with the swollen lips of her pussy, pursing them together and peeling them apart with detached, primitive fascination that bordered on profane. An innocent, curious smile teased at the corners of his mouth.
He tilted his head, and ran a slender finger down the seam of her labia, smiling as Hermione thrashed helplessly on the table. "Would you like more?" he crooned, sounding like Lucifer himself.
Hermione writhed on the table. "Please," she mewled weakly. "I want more. Please give me more ..."
His smirk was epic, as was the silken eyebrow that accompanied it. He sobered, and his face changed, grew more intent, less like the husband she knew. He bit his lower lip, and made a low, snarling sound that made Hermione's toes curl.
"As you wish, pet," he drawled, and stepped back to spank her again. Four more hard slaps and she was thrusting her hips up to meet them, riding against his relentless hand as if it were his cock. His hand grew wetter with each smack, and the tremours within her seem to build until they caused a chain reaction that hurtled her toward a conclusion that was as welcome as it was inevitable. Her core began to melt and draw inward, like the taut string of a bow.
"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna come," she slurred, closing her eyes, her pelvis twisting to meet the punishing smack of his hand. Even as she rose to meet the next blow, his mouth dove to her drenched and burning cunt, searing her like a brand, and he moaned loudly against her primed core.
She climaxed almost immediately, her scream echoing throughout the cave. Her orgasm lifted her impossibly high into the air, impaling her on his sharp, crooked teeth, his long, silver tongue. He sucked her bursting clit into his mouth as he thrust two, then three fingers inside her pulsing channel, curling them upwards. She cried his name into the darkness, and the answering call of her voice in the echoes made his name sound like music.
He watched her carefully as he gently teased her rectum, giving her no time to recover, and her eyes flew open as he pressed inward. "Bear down," he barked, watching her face, holding her trembling body down with one arm. "Let me in, oh, that's my baby," he purred obscenely, smiling lasciviously as she opened to him like a flower.
She cried out, a helpless, strained sound of expectation. A second finger joined the first in her waiting passage. His fingers started a slow, sensuous dance within her, and her hips moved with him, until she was bucking against him wildly. He had only to lave his pointed tongue from her perineum to her clit for her to cry out, and when he sucked the little nub into his mouth and suckled it like a nipple, flicking his tongue hard against it, she flew apart beneath him for the second time.
She could not recall when pleasure turned itself inside out and became pain, nor the moment the agony tipped sweetly back into ecstasy. At times it felt like punishment that morphed into reward. She only recognised his ravaging mouth, and her body obeyed its Master implicitly.
Again and again he dragged her to the edge of an impossibly high precipice, taking a running start with her before flinging her from the edge, letting her fall screaming, wailing his name, cursing him, terrified, gasping helplessly as the ground rushed up to meet her, then diving and catching her seconds before she crashed, only to start again.
At times, he would simply stand up and walk away, his eyes never leaving her shuddering, trembling form as he promised other, dirtier things he planned to do. At times he would lean over her breasts and tease her nipples with the softest, gentlest flicks of his tongue, turning every teasing suck and biting kiss into a sonata of sensory overload, even as he spanked her again. His moans, his growls, his frightening promises vibrated against her pussy until she strained against her bonds, questing for him and his domination over her senses.
He kissed her with breathtaking, suffocating kisses, coaxing, demanding her supplication, overwhelming her with sensations that left her pleading for release, pleading for respite.
And then he would begin again, slowly, his fingers deep within her, his opposite hand teasing her puckered hole, and his tongue as gentle and sweet as a sprite licking the dew from the wings of a butterfly.
He pushed her harder with each passing second. His hands, his mouth, his voice, forced her to rethink the words bliss and torment, until they melded into one last over-powering, beautiful, horrible conscious thought that this man was turning her into an addict, with him as her drug, her needle and her withdrawals, all at once.
She was soaring higher and higher, suspended in air until she could no longer breathe, and then he growled, "Come for me, now!" and the force of it rushed down upon her with an intensity of sensation that drove rational thought from her. Each bursting, throbbing pulse felt like its own orgasm, steeling the breath from her body until she was deaf, dumb and blind to anything but the release.
She howled brokenly; giving tongue to this overwhelming ecstasy was her only hope of remaining sane, of surviving this onslaught of pleasure and pain and submission and madness. She cried out his name, his title. He became in that moment lover, master, jailer, daddy, judge and executioner, and she called him by all those names. All coherency was destroyed, save one thought: the fearful realization she would seek this out the rest of her days, on her knees if need be, until he forced her to shatter the crystals with her screams ...
Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she looked around dazedly, completely unsure of where she was. She was no longer bound on the table; rather she was lying beside Severus in the huge ebony bed, curled up against him. He enfolded her in his arms, murmuring soothing non-words to both calm and stir her senses.
The soft fabric of his robe whispered against her bare skin, causing a delicious friction. The somehow forbidden, sensual image of a young, untested woman lying naked in the arms of a fully clothed, experienced older man was not lost on her, and it made Hermione feel curiously decadent and blameless all at once.
"How do you feel, pet?" he asked, his voice low and neutral. Hermione looked at him, her heart filled with helpless yearning. He was watching her carefully; his face a mixture of several emotions Hermione could not quite define. Instead, she took a mental inventory of herself, and her own feelings.
"Weak. Sore." She looked back at him and pressed closer. "Needy."
He smiled. "In that order?" he drawled sleepily. He lay back, and pulled her closer until her head was resting on his shoulder. She ran her hand over his chest and placed a fevered kiss on his jaw line.
"I'm not sure. What exactly happened to me?"
Severus chuckled. "I believe the term is 'la petite mort' the little death." When she did not reply, Severus actually looked smug. "In other words, my dear wife, I made you come your brains out."
Hermione looked at him for a moment, shocked at his crudity, then laughed. She flopped back against his arm. "You did, didn't you?" She sighed. "There'll be no living with you now." They both laughed, then she sobered. "Of course, there's no living without you, either."
Almost instantly his eyelids lowered, and his face softened. He looked beautiful like this; relaxed, aroused, unfettered by the daily pressures of his position, completely in control of the situation at hand.
"Did my my little death please you?"
Severus smiled. It was a smile full of promise. "Very much so, pet." He stroked her face, purring, "You tasted divine. It was like splitting open a ripe peach and devouring it." His eyes were glowing. "I must remember to spank you thoroughly and often."
Hermione stretched luxuriously. She felt wonderful; drained and sore, to be sure, but excellent. She had met Severus on a new ground, in terms she had asked for, and she had passed the test.
He uncorked a vial of Pain Potion and held it to her lips. "Open for me." She looked up at him and saw a glimpse of the dark man who bore so little resemblance to her husband, and Hermione found she it was a bit afraid of him; of what he would do if she allowed it.
Obediently, she opened her mouth, and he poured the potion in, gently drawing a finger against her lips to catch some of the escaping liquid. "There we are," he breathed, as she swallowed. Warmth flooded her limbs, and instantly her soreness abated. She relaxed against him with a little hum of contentment.
"Better?" he murmured. He watched her closely and his intense concentration on her made Hermione smile complacently.
"Yes, Master. Very much so," she said, rather mischievously. He regarded her silently for a moment, then returned the vial to the bedside table. Hermione snuggled against him with a contented sigh. "This has to be the most comfy bed," she said, stifling a yawn. "Almost as comfortable as our bed at Hogwarts."
Without warning, she was wrenched onto her back against the mattress. The carved vines and tendrils covering the bedposts and headboard came to life and sinuously wound around her wrists and ankles, pinning her down. She gasped in sudden fright as the vines tightened.
Severus was smiling down on her, his eyes glittering hard and merciless in the candlelight. "If I were you, little girl," he growled, "I wouldn't get too comfortable."
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Latest 25 Reviews for Father Figure
47 Reviews | 5.96/10 Average
I love that you included Jules' email here! I always find other people's creative processes fascinating, especially when it's a creative relationship.
Oh, and I loved the fic as well, of course!
Totally confused for a moment by the slip into fantasy, but very glad I stuck with it! I can just imagine Severus arriving on the cusp of a storm...
“Thank the gods for that.”
I concur!
You know things have got bad when Lucius Malfoy is the voice of reason...
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Poor Lucius! I actually like him like this - this is a man who's very grateful to have not lost everything. He's a kindler, gentler Malfoy!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Poor Lucius! I actually like him like this - this is a man who's very grateful to have not lost everything. He's a kindler, gentler Malfoy!
Oh no! Trust Severus to go all over reacty just when Hermione is probably in need of a bit of comfort! You better make this right, Teddy! *glowers*
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
:) As one reader once said, Severus can sulk/pout/guilt for Britain.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
:) As one reader once said, Severus can sulk/pout/guilt for Britain.
“I wouldn’t get too comfortable.” Hee!That was hawt. Too busy skipping to next chapter to be any more coherent, I'm afraid!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Jules, my beta, says that should be his byline on all hisbusiness cards: Severus Snape--I wouldn't get too comfortable--
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Jules, my beta, says that should be his byline on all hisbusiness cards: Severus Snape--I wouldn't get too comfortable--
Hee! I love the direct correlation between Snape's love life and how nice - or otherwise he's willing to be to poor Orchid.
And - oh! - a Portkey!
As someone who cannot write sexy dialogue to save her life, I find the fact you can produce entire chapters of the stuff, and to do it so well, to be pretty spectacular.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you!
I'm not sure you can class a jarvey as an OC, but I think he's a keeper!Also, big bad Death Eater!Severus? Oh my!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you - yes, the idea of Severus in the full fig is pretty awesome!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you - yes, the idea of Severus in the full fig is pretty awesome!
he was part and parcel of the man she fell in love withIt's true, much as we love to redeem him in fic, it's the old Snape we all fell in love with!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
:)
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
:)
Oh dear - I hope this won't come between them. Severus has tried this lifestyle before, so is his reticence based on something Hermione should be aware of?
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
:)
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
:)
Goodness, I can see why he was upset! That display sounds ever so slightly tacky!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
:)
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
:)
It's going to take Mr Orchid a little time to figure out Just what happened.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
I've always thought that Severus could see ice to eskimos if so inclinced ;)
Response from mick42 (Reviewer)
I was sold on him, from day one.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Oh, me too! :)
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
I've always thought that Severus could see ice to eskimos if so inclinced ;)
Response from mick42 (Reviewer)
I was sold on him, from day one.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Oh, me too! :)
Is there no end to the demands of the ministry? he gave his blood, sweat and tears, for so long, can't he have a little peace now.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
I think of the Ministry as being like every other governing body - they always want more than they are willing themselves to give. If you'll recall, most of them weren't exactly manning the barricades in the war. It's easy to issue commands behind your wall of entitlement.
Response from mick42 (Reviewer)
True, they were hidding under their desks, while school children were fighting ,and dying to rid the world of the evil that they, in their" wisdom" had let grow.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Very true. Too busy hiding from the monsters under the bed....
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
I think of the Ministry as being like every other governing body - they always want more than they are willing themselves to give. If you'll recall, most of them weren't exactly manning the barricades in the war. It's easy to issue commands behind your wall of entitlement.
Response from mick42 (Reviewer)
True, they were hidding under their desks, while school children were fighting ,and dying to rid the world of the evil that they, in their" wisdom" had let grow.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Very true. Too busy hiding from the monsters under the bed....
I get the feeling that there is a greater chance of Severus being hurt, rather than Hermione. Severus would not let himself go so far as to physically injure Hermione, she could very easely { unintentionally } hurt him.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
That is one of the dichotomies of the D/s lifestyle. The Dominant may be in charge, but only as far as the submissive is willing to allow them to be. Both parties have a huge responsibility for the physical and emotional needs of the other.
Response from mick42 (Reviewer)
I know very little of the D/s lifestyle, only what I have read, but I do know that emotional wounds don't heal as quickly as physical wounds, if at all, and the scars never fade.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
That is one of the dichotomies of the D/s lifestyle. The Dominant may be in charge, but only as far as the submissive is willing to allow them to be. Both parties have a huge responsibility for the physical and emotional needs of the other.
Response from mick42 (Reviewer)
I know very little of the D/s lifestyle, only what I have read, but I do know that emotional wounds don't heal as quickly as physical wounds, if at all, and the scars never fade.
Ahh Severus, we all have a dark side, Hermione included. I love the idea of a museum, a tribute to all those that gave so much, for freedom.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Poor Guy! He just keeps forgetting that!
Response from mick42 (Reviewer)
I'm sure Hermione will remind him.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Poor Guy! He just keeps forgetting that!
Response from mick42 (Reviewer)
I'm sure Hermione will remind him.
Yeah, I'm with Hermione, Severus needs to express that side of him!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
:)
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
:)
This story was so much sexier when Hermione was creaming at the sight of a dark, angry Headmaster billowing down the halls of Hogwarts in a genuine rage. For me, the extreme contrivance of the situation kills the passion. Oh well, each to her own taste.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Well each to her own taste. Role play can be great fun and for those with imagination, very passionate. Thank you for your comments.
Response from Very Small Prophet (Reviewer)
I’ve done role-play on occasion and have enjoyed it, but nothing so elaborate or so rigid. It was always loose, and very much of-the-moment: “Here’s our scene, you’ll be this, I’ll be that, and we’ll play at it for the next hour or so.” For enormously long scenarios with spectacular stage sets and elaborate props, I go to the opera. For sex I prefer improv.
As far as the story is concerned, I feel the plot has lost its dramatic tension now that our two protagonists have resolved the conflict in their relationship. There are, however, chapters yet to come. I trust this is merely a lull, and more obstacles will arise to be oversome by our hero and heroine. Onward!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you again for your comments.The original prompt for this story was not about writing any conflict in their relationship beyond the notion that Hermione wished to engage in a certain kind of relationship with her husband. It is a story about the dreamy, mystically charged rites of sexual magik involving Dominance and submission.I have never been one to devote chapter after chapter to angst for angst sake, and I don't believe constant conflict is essential to dramatic tension in a story. I would prefer to see them work together against a common conflict, and this is prevalent in my work.Regarding sexual preferences, I do not see impromptu role play vs. “enormously long scenarios with spectacular stage sets and elaborate props” as being a good vs. bad scenario. To me, they are merely different and to the individual’s tastes. However, feeling as you do about their role-playing games and the story in general, I fear you will not find the remainder of it to your liking either.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Well each to her own taste. Role play can be great fun and for those with imagination, very passionate. Thank you for your comments.
Response from Very Small Prophet (Reviewer)
I’ve done role-play on occasion and have enjoyed it, but nothing so elaborate or so rigid. It was always loose, and very much of-the-moment: “Here’s our scene, you’ll be this, I’ll be that, and we’ll play at it for the next hour or so.” For enormously long scenarios with spectacular stage sets and elaborate props, I go to the opera. For sex I prefer improv.
As far as the story is concerned, I feel the plot has lost its dramatic tension now that our two protagonists have resolved the conflict in their relationship. There are, however, chapters yet to come. I trust this is merely a lull, and more obstacles will arise to be oversome by our hero and heroine. Onward!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you again for your comments.The original prompt for this story was not about writing any conflict in their relationship beyond the notion that Hermione wished to engage in a certain kind of relationship with her husband. It is a story about the dreamy, mystically charged rites of sexual magik involving Dominance and submission.I have never been one to devote chapter after chapter to angst for angst sake, and I don't believe constant conflict is essential to dramatic tension in a story. I would prefer to see them work together against a common conflict, and this is prevalent in my work.Regarding sexual preferences, I do not see impromptu role play vs. “enormously long scenarios with spectacular stage sets and elaborate props” as being a good vs. bad scenario. To me, they are merely different and to the individual’s tastes. However, feeling as you do about their role-playing games and the story in general, I fear you will not find the remainder of it to your liking either.
Sounds like the museum was a hit, despite Severus' early reservations. I loved the speech he gave! It was perfect. And then they celebrated in the best way. Her disbelief when he asked her to scrub cauldrons was priceless. A perfect ending to a very enjoyable story!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you so much! I'm really glad you enjoyed it - almost as much as I enjoyed your reviews. This was a joy to write, and one of the stories I'm really happy with. I'm glad it gave you a lot of pleasure.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you so much! I'm really glad you enjoyed it - almost as much as I enjoyed your reviews. This was a joy to write, and one of the stories I'm really happy with. I'm glad it gave you a lot of pleasure.
Oooh, a fantasy. What a perfect way to deviate entirely from the story, and yet, still stay right along the lines of the story. I'm not a regency fan, but it didn't matter here. This was perfectly steamy, and it seems they had a good time. I love that they used Malfoy Manor for their little game. Serves Lucius right for being nosy when Severus came to him for advice, LOL.On a side note, my biggest fear in writing an exchange fic this year was that I was going to get assigned to write for someone awesome. That you did so and survived makes me all the more impressed by you. :)
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you! I will say that Father Figure was the perfect storm - a combination of prompt, inspiration and author that worked really well. This year I wasn't so lucky, but Father Figure will always be a high-water mark for me. I was terrified when I got Subvers' name, but the moment I saw the prompt, my Muse gave me the entire story, almost all at once. I'm looking forward to your gift this year!
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you! I will say that Father Figure was the perfect storm - a combination of prompt, inspiration and author that worked really well. This year I wasn't so lucky, but Father Figure will always be a high-water mark for me. I was terrified when I got Subvers' name, but the moment I saw the prompt, my Muse gave me the entire story, almost all at once. I'm looking forward to your gift this year!
What a great ending!! Now we need a sequel.. I wanna see Daddy Snape as, well, Daddy Snape haha
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
When they ask, Who's the Daddy, I think there's only one answer... ;) Thank you - I'm really glad you enjoyed it.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
When they ask, Who's the Daddy, I think there's only one answer... ;) Thank you - I'm really glad you enjoyed it.
What a hot and steamy read! Loved it all the way. Well done to you and your beta for such a delicious story with great writing.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you so very much! I'm thrilled you enjoyed it.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you so very much! I'm thrilled you enjoyed it.
Winky saves the day! I am so glad that Severus and Hermione made up. Of course, I don't have to worry too much now that I know you aren't the long drawn out angst type. It's kind of refreshing, actually. What a horrible memory that night brought up. And in the end, I enjoyed the change (sort of) in balance of power. He let her be in control, but still, he is running the show. It was a nice change of pace, although I have no complaints about returning to our regularly scheduled program. ;)
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
No, I appreciate conflict, but I don't like angst for angst sake, especially if the characters are just running around in the same angst groove over and over. I actually prefer it when Hermione and Severus are working together on a common conflict. Most people who stay at one another's throats don't end up in bed together. I've read some fics where he's just so nasty I lose the ability to suspend disbelief that she would be willing to put up with his cruelty. But hopefully these two are back on the same page.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
No, I appreciate conflict, but I don't like angst for angst sake, especially if the characters are just running around in the same angst groove over and over. I actually prefer it when Hermione and Severus are working together on a common conflict. Most people who stay at one another's throats don't end up in bed together. I've read some fics where he's just so nasty I lose the ability to suspend disbelief that she would be willing to put up with his cruelty. But hopefully these two are back on the same page.
I don't typically care for Lucius, but you make him too likeable for me to resist. I love how just voicing his concerns to Lucius makes Severus realize how ridiculous he is being.Of course the Headmaster needs a new improved version of the mauraders map. Although surely that takes some of the fun out of coming upon unsuspecting offenders and scaring the daylights out of them. Nah, maybe not. Just makes it easier.I suspect panic is about to ensue ...
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
I'm not a Lucius fan either, but this is one of those chapters that was so Muse-driven I had to include it. Especially when it got corrupted on my HD and my good friend managed to save it! I knew it was destined to be in the story.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
I'm not a Lucius fan either, but this is one of those chapters that was so Muse-driven I had to include it. Especially when it got corrupted on my HD and my good friend managed to save it! I knew it was destined to be in the story.
Oh my you have given us a deliciously wicked ending to this chapter. :D
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Response from TeddyRadiator (Author of Father Figure)
Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.