The Potions Master
Hogwarts Castle.
Out of all the classes that Harry had on Hogwarts, the one he despised the most was Potions, class taught by Professor Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin, the House from which all the most terrible wizards in history came, according to what Ron had said.
He wasn't sure what he had said this time, but Snape had punished him with a 30-point reduction from Gryffindor, and he had had enough. He was the youngest Quidditch player in history in 100 years. He was the Boy Who Lived. He was excellent at flying, and in the other subjects (including Potions) he was competent enough, if he studied. It had to be worth something, right?
So, he headed to Snape's office to have a good argument with that vampire of an old man. But before he arrived... someone had had the same idea. He saw her appear around the corner, alone and even a little nervous, which was unusual for her from what he had seen. Her name was Pansy Parkinson, and she was the official Slytherin bully, as well as one of the sexiest girls in the entire school, despite being a first year, like him. Of course, that didn't help much, because she rejected everyone, and the only person she got along with was Draco Malfoy, Harry's rival.
Her legs were beautiful, standing out because she wore the shortest skirt of all the girls of their generation. She was petite, but never insignificant, her gaze was capable of enchanting anyone who crossed her path. Harry was no exception. They stopped facing each other next to Snape's office door.
“Uh… uh… h-hello.”
“What do you want here, Potter?” Pansy asked, crossing her arms and putting on the same arrogant and mocking face as Draco, except that she looked… good? Really good, in fact. Sexy, no doubt.
“I came to talk to the Professor. There is something very important that I must discuss with him.”
“Like what?”
“Well… I'm fed up with his injustices. I don't know what I did to him, but I came to, uh, fight for my rights, because I'm the wizard who…”
“No, you know what? I got bored. Get out.”
“Excuse me?”
“Out. You're cute, Potter, but my eyes only see two men in this whole fucking school, and you're not one of them. Professor Snape deserves the respect of all of us, and I won't let you bother him.”
Pansy pulled out her wand, Harry did the same nervously, and just then the door opened. The tall man in black, with greasy hair and a cold gaze, came out to greet them with his emotionless, iron voice.
“Yes?”
“Good evening, Professor. I'd like to have a chat with you, may I?” the girl asked with all innocence, as if she were a cute princess.
“Alright. Come in. Potter?”
“P-professor, I came to…”
“No. Out.”
And that's how Harry was left. Alone. If he wanted to make a name for himself, he was going to have to prove his worth in another way. On the Quidditch pitch, perhaps. That way he would be respected. That's what Harry Potter was thinking as he walked away, so we'll turn our camera elsewhere now. Inside Severus Snape's office, next to the stairs to the dungeons below the Castle.
Office of Severus Snape
Pansy Parkinson stood in front of Snape’s desk, where he sat. He didn’t seem impatient, but he didn’t seem patient either. He just stood there, serious, hard as a rock. And that was what she loved. She couldn’t stop staring at this man she considered the paragon of manliness. Her crotch was already wet with anticipation of what was to come.
“Professor.”
“Yes?”
“I just came to thank you for your wonderful classes, they’ve helped me a lot with my magical abilities, you’re an excellent instructor.”
“Good,” he said, stonily. “Anything else?” Not a shred of gratitude for the compliment. God, she thought. It drove her mad horny. Men didn’t need to be silly, polite, emotional creatures; they had to be tough, strong, rational, gruff, even indifferent. Masculine. She could blush, and in fact knew she was, but not him. Pansy was a girl, and it was time to show what her gender was good at.
“I made a potion. I wanted to know what you think about it.”
“What kind?” she asked, almost out of protocol.
“Silphion's Eros,” she replied. Snape’s eyes opened for just a moment. Pansy could almost catch a glint in them, and she felt her nipples harden. How she wanted this man.
“Silphion? Quite an advanced potion… and also quite irregular for someone of your age, Miss Parkinson.”
“Yes,” Pansy said, taking a small triangular glass bottle from her bag with a purple liquid and bright verb-colored flecks. She leaned forward, letting her cleavage show through her half-open shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra. “It only took me two and a half hours to brew it. I’d love it if you’d evaluate it.”
Snape smiled slightly, and with a certain arrogant mockery. “Miss Parkinson, when I say it’s an advanced potion, it’s because it is. I don't know what you're trying to do with this, but almost every student who presents this to their teachers with inappropriate attitudes ends up brewing a potion that only slightly increases the blush, and the rest is all placeboes.”
She hesitated for a moment, somewhat hurt… but she pulled herself together. It was a test she had to pass. She stood there, leaning at 90°, challenging her instructor with her green, piercing, lustful eyes.
“Try me.”
“Good.” Snape inspected the color of the potion. He made no demonstration of anything. He shook it twice, once on each side. He pulled the cork out of the bottle, and sniffed it, just for a brief moment.
Severus Snape stood up abruptly. Pansy jumped back, in shock… and excitement. A hard man, just the way she liked him, and in every way. It was impossible not to notice Snape’s erection behind his cloak.
“Professor?”
“Repeat the ingredients. Quickly.”
“Maca. Ginseng. Sugar cane. M-menst…”
“Go on.”
She decided she needed to be really ambitious, like a Slytherin. Brazenly, Pansy sat down on the chair and spread her legs before the professor and showed him her black, lace panties, which she had stolen from her mother. They were wet with desire.
“Menstrual blood. One drop.”
“Go on,” Snape repeated. He proceeded to sniff the potion again. There was a smile there. A steady, real one. His erection grew more evident as he looked between her legs. It gave her more courage.
“Cherry stem leaf, cocoa, and pistachio.”
“Three pistachio nuts are always recommended. How many did you add?”
“In the book I found there were some extra notes. One said it was best to add 4 and a half pistachio nuts. And… a little of my saliva.”
That same saliva was what Snape tasted now. Dominant. Virile. The man grabbed her by the necktie, pulled her towards him roughly, lifting her from the chair again, and mercilessly thrust his tongue into her throat. She felt her heart beating a thousand times. She closed her legs, not to avoid being touched, but to contain her libido even a little to enjoy the moment.
But he didn't have time. He was a busy man, and that was how things should be. He pulled down his pants and a long, veiny, though not thick cock appeared before her. It was like a snake. It smelled a little, as if he hadn't bathed in a while, but she loved it. That was a real man! That was why she spread her legs for him, there was no time for silly foreplay!
She took off her panties, showing her secret treasure, the one she wanted the whole school to occupy in the future, or at least those who paid for it. It didn't have much pubic hair yet, and that was good. It felt soft to the touch.
Snape didn't penetrate her when she sat on the table, though. Instead, he walked with his erect cock to a shelf, where he pulled out another small glass bottle, this one containing some transparent liquid.
“Are you a virgin, Miss Parkinson?”
There was no point in lying. Anyone else would have been fine, but never him.
“Yes, sir,” she said, touching her swollen clit, the area wet with lust, ready to slide her fingers into it to help him work his way inside her body. “I know what you think, and I assure you that I will become the little whore of this entire castle, but the boys I know are all boys. I couldn't give my pussy to anyone else but you.”
“I don't mean that, I'm not interested,” Snape said, opening the bottle and pouring the clear, creamy, rather thick and warm liquid over the raven-haired girl's intimate area. It felt very, very good.
“Ahhh… ahhh… yes.”
“But I couldn’t do it to you otherwise, Miss Parkinson. Your body is not yet ready to receive me. Not for a few years. This is a soothing cream.”
And without saying another word, with a vioence unworthy of a professor (but perfectly worthy of a real man, in Pansy’s opinion), Severus Snape entered inside her, settling between her parted legs. All the way. She screamed in pain, and he silenced her with his hand.
“Oh my god!”
“Get ready. This is your reward for a perfect Silphion's Eros brewing.”
“Oh my god, your penis… your penis, Professor… is forcing its way into me… it hurts.”
“Too much?”
“Yes. And I love it. Fuck me, please… hard. Fuck your Pansy, Professor!”
Pain quickly gave way to pleasure. Pansy's eyes rolled out to her head, she was pinned by the waist to the desk by Snape's sharp, skeletal, but firm hands. Pansy caressed her face, sticking out her tongue, knowing her facial expression showed pure ecstasy.
“You are very tight, Miss Parkinson. We will need to do more sessions to further relax the area,” he said, like someone reading the news. There was no facial expression in him. There were no gasps as he rammed into her like a strong bull into a horny, small, defenseless doe. He was an animal of controlled emotions. An iron man with a hot piece of steel for a cock, thrusting in and out of her relentlessly.
“Yes, as many as you want, Professor… Ah, ah, ah! You have made my pussy yours, my body yours whenever you want it… oh my god you’re so hard!”
“Any time?”
“Yes! Even if you call me in the middle of class, or at midnight, or in the bathroom, I'll still come to you… Shit, even if you asked me in YOUR class I'd get on all fours for you in the middle of the room, ah! All while the gang of dumb idiots I have for classmates, especially that Potter guy, look at you with envy for the chance to fuck me for free, ahhh, ahhhh, ahh!”
“And Malfoy?” Snape asked in a cold, intelligent voice.
“Huh? Ow!” Pansy screamed, as Snape pulled her towards him, pulled her close and hugged him, and took a sip of Pansy's potion. Just one sip.
The next thing she knew, she was suffering waves of pleasure that didn't seem to stop. Pansy had to hug Snape's neck to control herself. Her orgasms didn't let up.
“Legimency, Miss Parkinson, the art of reading the minds of the weak.”
I'm weak, I know it, I'm a girl, Pansy thought proudly. Girls like her were made to be submissive servants to men like him. It was perfectly fine for him to know that she wanted Draco too, she just wanted to give herself to him with some experience, to show off for not being a virgin in front of the Malfoy heir that she already loved.
But she couldn't tell him. She couldn't answer. She was suffering from another orgasm at that very moment, and she had to wrap her legs around Snape's skinny waist to keep from falling from the primal desire, the unbridled lust that dominated her.
“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, yeeeessssss, fuck me! FUCK ME HARD, PROFESSOR!”
In and out. In and out. How long had Snape not fucked, and how was that possible with how perfect he was? Pansy thought. She fucked like she hadn't had sex in years, and if she had… she was even more proud of herself. All thanks to the potion she had worked so hard to make. It was the best evaluation she had ever received.
She wasn't going to be a virgin for another measly month. She was going to be a known whore throughout Hogwarts, even the old filthy Dumbledore would be convinced to get between her legs if he got in her way. That was her wish, and she had achieved it. She was having sex for the first time, and she had immediately fallen in love with the sensation. It was as incredible as everyone said. He went in and out! He went in and out so fast that she didn't know when he was in and when he was out!
“Miss Parkinson, may I cum inside?”
“Huh?” Was he asking her? Politely? Huh. She supposed that a little, maybe just a little courtesy didn't take away from his masculine and virile nature at all. “Of course, you can bathe my pussy in your hot cum all you want, Professor.”
“Ah!” the professor exclaimed, closing his eyes. For the first time he was feeling the libido he should have. He panted. He moved harder. He kissed her neck and cried out again: “Lilly,” he said, as if he were in a dream.
Lilly? Who the fuck was Lilly? The truth was that it hardly mattered. All Pansy cared about was losing her virginity to Snape and cumming like the good little whore she was. And so, she did, at the same time that he came inside. Of course, that was not a responsible thing to do, but she wanted to feel the whole thing on her first time.
Cum was leaking all over her pussy, towards her legs.
“Oh my god. Shit. That was so good, Professor Snape.”
“Yes. Yes… Uh… Ahem.” Snape covered himself with the long black cloak. He combed his dark hair and stared at her. “That book you found. The one with the notes. Where did you leave it?”
“I left it back where it was, Professor. At your classroom. Do you want it back? It was written by some Hall... no, Half-Blood—”
“No, no, leave it there, Ms. Parkinson. Someone else will find it useful, I suppose. You may leave now. Oh, and go to Ms. Pomfrey for some Artemis Extract Potion. For you to not get... Ahem. She’ll know what you mean.”
Not even a caress, or a kiss. Nothing. This was what a real man should be like. She hadn't had time to recover, she was lying on the table like a common little whore, and she hadn't had time to really contemplate the fact that she had had sex for the first time, and with an adult. None of that mattered.
Pansy Parkinson, at the time, thought she was a happy girl.