Chapter 4
When the school week resumes, Snape goes to his classes, leaving you in his chambers alone to dig through books. You haven’t found any information remotely like the binding you each are cursed with. Your eyes are getting tired. You’re already becoming stir crazy, locked up in these living quarters with no windows or signs of life. When you need a break from reading, you brew contraceptive potions for the next time you need them. Snape has several potion ingredients stored away in one of the kitchenette cabinets that you’ve helped yourself too.
The small, rounded off white refrigerator is magically cold and fills with fresh food every day. You can’t explain how besides the fact that this is Hogwarts, magical occurrences happen like this all the time. You appreciate it. School food has always been delicious.
Though you’ve read your little heart out over the last week and a half, you’ve found nothing close to what you and Snape are currently experiencing. It’s too dark. Magic isn’t supposed to be used this way.
When you need a break from reading and brewing, you sit on the couch and wonder about your apprenticeship. Did they take your no call - no show as a slap in the face? Will they ever consider you again? You worked hard for that - so, so hard. You miss your flat. You miss getting coffee or tea in the morning at your favorite spot a block down the street. You miss your candles and favorite blanket. You miss Salem most of all. You wonder if he thinks you abandoned him.
Your friends are probably looking for you by now. No owl. Apartment vacant, save your cat. Your part time job in Diagon Alley is probably wondering why you up and quit. Gods, you just wish you could send an owl. No, actually, you wish you could be free of this forced sexual servitude.
On Tuesday, you magically enchant all of the books into a little replica of Hogwarts for fun. When Snape returned from dinner, he merely looked at it, unimpressed, and stated you are wasting precious time. You knocked it all over and thought about casting Avis at him. But he had already dismissed himself to his bedroom.
The longer you go without being compelled, the more you wonder when it will hit you. It’s nerve wracking to think Snape could be in class when it happens again. It wasn’t…painful to be aroused for so long, back when you were at Snape’s place. It was crippling, though. To be so turned on and unable to fix it yourself. You could last a few hours, you’re sure. You don’t want to have to wait again, though.
On Wednesday afternoon, you hear Snape approaching the doorway - you sit up straighter and grow nervous. These last two days have been unremarkable and silent between you two. Only, he doesn’t usually come back until after dinner - it’s still early, you heard the bells just ten or so minutes ago, indicating the last hour of the day is over. You’re usually in bed or in the bath when he returns. You only know he’s here because his cloak is hung by the door.
You wonder if he will be compelled again. When he enters the chambers, he hangs his cloak up on the hook and strides to the refrigerator. He opens it and you hear him grab a glass something out of there. He drinks - he’s gulping something down slowly. You hear him sit the container back inside, then shut the door. You can feel him peering down from behind you.
“Have you found anything worth mentioning?” he says after a moment.
You swallow, shaking your head. “I’m sorry,” you reply. You don’t know why you apologized. It’s the first words he’s spoken to you in days.
He hums, striding around and taking a seat in the arm chair. “Why are you sorry?” he exhales. He leans over and unties his shoes, taking them off and sitting them down neatly under the chair. “We will keep looking,” he says, quietly. You glance at his feet - black socks cover them snugly.
You wonder if something happened. He isn’t acting normal. He should have berated you, insulted you for being lazy or slow. He looks at you, then down to the two, towering piles of books. “Which one is the discard pile?”
You gesture to your right. “They had nothing about binding spells or anything similar.”
He leans forward, skimming through the titles of the discard stack. He arches a brow, seemingly believing you only after rereading the titles, then grabs the book on top of the stack that you’re currently going through. He leans back and crosses his legs, then opens the book. You watch his dark eyes begin to read the first chapter of it.
You return to your book. You spend the next few hours like that, until the late evening. Snape has devoured two books - he placed them in the discard pile. He reaches for a third, but hesitates. He decides to not take another. He merely sits back down, crossing his legs again. You eye him over your book, watching him stare right back at you. He places his chin on his hand.
“What?” you wonder. He shrugs, staring at you.
“How displeased are you with all of this?” he asks, sounding slightly hostile. You lower your book, placing a bookmark you made out of a piece of your cloak in it before shutting it. “Aren’t you angry?”
You cock your head at him, wondering if he wants you to be angry. “I am merely…here to serve you, isn’t that right? You obviously want to be free of me as much as I want to be free of you.”
He raises his brows, making a face of agreement. “Do you want me to be angry? Confrontative? I tried that before at your place.”
Snape smirks, nodding. “Yes, that didn’t go too well for you.”
“What are you getting at?” you ask, straightforwardly.
“You are just more level headed than I first assessed you to be.”
What use is it to be angry or cry about it? It won’t change your current situation. He stands, striding to the kitchenette, reaching above his head to the top cabinets. He opens a cupboard and retrieves a bottle of Firewhiskey, sitting it down on the counter.
“That’s hardly dinner,” you point out. Snape chuckles lowly, opening the fridge and grabbing a bowl of something - you can’t see what. He fishes a fork out and begins to eat, standing with his back to you. Why isn’t he sitting down? “Aren’t you going to eat supper in the Great Hall?”
“No,” he replies. “The students were especially frustrating today. I need a break far away from them.”
He puts his bowl into the sink and grabs the bottle of alcohol and a cup, spinning on his heel to return to sit in the arm chair. He uncorks it and pours some into his cup, then sits the bottle down on the floor. He brings the cup to his lips, taking a sip.
“Have you eaten today?”
You nod, smiling. “Yeah, they always had this delicious chicken wrap for lunch when I was a student. There was one in the fridge that I ate earlier.”
“What about dinner? No appetite?”
You shrug. “I’m not moving nearly as much as normal.” You swallow, pressing your lips together. “Maybe, after curfew, I could take a walk-“
“No,” he cuts in. You frown, bringing your knees up to your chest.
“I won’t be caught, I-“
“No, [last name]. It’s unfortunate, our situation. You cannot risk being recognized by one of your former housemates.”
You roll your eyes. “Unfortunate for me, you mean. At least you have your free will. I’m a fucking prisoner here.”
“Watch your language,” Snape warns. His eyes glare at you, warningly. You pipe down, lowering your head, but keeping your eyes on him. He smirks, wickedly. “Good girl.”
You blush, putting your head into your knees, sighing. You like that, you realize. The praise.
“Don’t you wish you could touch yourself?” he wonders. You press your lips together, staying hidden behind your knees. “I do,” he admits.
You whip your head up, glaring at him meanly before snatching a few new books and the one you were working on and stomping to your temporary bedroom.
“[Last name], wait!”
You slide into your room and slam the door, then withdraw your wand and ward your door. You charm the handle to turn hot if someone attempts to open it. You sit down on the floor and huff out a breath of annoyance. You open the book you were reading earlier and continue to read.
Sometime later, you aren’t sure exactly when or exactly what time it is, you hear Snape go to his bedroom and shut the door quietly. Maybe if you ask Snape, he’d put a clock up. You don’t know what time it is. Only when Snape leaves for classes and he returns can you get an estimate of time, and the bells that ring during the day for class change.
You read until your eyes are too tired to continue. Once you change too some pajamas, you settle into bed. You toss and turn for a little while. You try to count sheep and count down from a hundred, but you somehow can’t fall asleep. You would usually masterbate when you couldn’t sleep, it always helped. But, you can’t touch yourself now. You need Snape’s fucking help.
After tossing and turning some more, you get up and uncharm your door, then quietly open it. It fucking creaks though. You stay still and try to hear Snape - but hear nothing. You light your wand and begin to pace around the living room, tiptoeing around the stacks of books. You need to tire yourself out.
After doing this for about fifteen minutes, you get tired of the same path, so you go walk in the corridor that leads to the exit of Snape’s sealed away chambers. You pass the bathroom, hearing the water falling into the large inground tub. It’s soothing. You pace up and down the narrow, short hallway, getting more annoyed that you aren’t tired now. You nearly fell asleep while reading. Too many thoughts, you deduce.
You walk back into the living quarters when you feel tired again. As you shut the door silently, you see Snape out of the corner of your eye. He’s sitting in the arm chair again, head angled towards you.
“Making sure I don’t leave?” you ask, turning towards him.
“I am making you uncomfortable here,” he replies.
You laugh, scoffing. “This whole predicament is uncomfortable.” He nods in agreement. “But, you are right. About you being the preferred Death Eater to be bound to. At least I have some of my belongings and clothes. My own room. Food.” He stares at you, not responding.
You walk in and tentatively sit down on the sofa, wringing your hands together. “I am…not experienced, but I do wish I could touch myself. I’m good at that. The more I think about how I can’t, the more frustrating it is.”
You look into your lap, feeling tears rush to your eyes. “I just want my life to go back to normal.” Your chest shudders and your being your hand up to wipe your eyes. Snape exhales deeply.
“It will, hopefully sooner than later.” He stands, going to the kitchen, pulling out a cauldron and some ingredients. “I’m sure you don’t want me to touch you unless we are compelled. I’ll brew you a sleeping draught.”
You hear the burner flick on and he begins to crush ingredients with a mortar and pestle. “Unless, you’d like my assistance?”
You turn your head away from him, embarrassedly. “No, not tonight. Thank you, though, sir,” you reply, mouth going dry. He says nothing more after. He brews the draught in less than ten minutes. He brings it to you in a tea cup, mixed with steaming hot tea. It smells like chamomile. You thank him and bring it to your lips, taking a sip. It’s soothing. Snape sits down beside you, gazing at you as you drink.
“It’s good,” you murmur. His lips twitch upwards.
“Wonderful,” he replies. “Once you’re through, go to your bedroom. You’ll fall asleep quickly with that.”
You hum in response, beginning to drink it now. You tap your wand to the empty cup and it floats over to the sink. You stand up and feel your eyes tire rather quickly. Your body feels like a feather. You stride to your room, turning your head to look at Snape. “Thanks again,” you breathe. He nods, then you slip inside and shut the door. You tuck yourself into bed and sleep takes you, finally.
It is on Thursday, only after you’ve read so much impertinent information, you realize this binding spell is similar to an Unbreakable Vow. It binds two people, similar to how the Contractor performed the binding between you and Snape. It has stipulations - if you break the promise made, then you die. Just like the binding you currently find yourself in. You or Snape become aroused, only the other person can help you. If you don’t turn to them, you suffer. Not as lethal at the Unbreakable Vow, but just as tightly bound.
You wish you could leave these chambers and go tell Snape to bring you books that have information pertaining to the Unbreakable Vow. But you’re stuck here. Forbidden to leave. You sit the book you were reading down and stand, striding back to Snape’s room. You wonder if he has more books inside his bedroom.
Maybe you could just sneak away to the library. Put your old uniform on and keep your head low. Students should be in class right now. You decide against going into Snape’s room for obvious reasons. You return to your bedroom and begin to dress yourself in your old Ravenclaw uniform. After approving yourself in the mirror, you have a quick pep talk with yourself. You’ll lay low, no detours, and confund anyone who may stop you.
It’s a solid plan. Maybe by the time Snape returns, you’ll have some sort of useful information he can discuss with you. You slip your wand up your sleeve and head down the hallway to the closed off brick wall. As you raise your wand to command it open, you hear shoes approaching. It’s just a student. Snape has classes. You wait, but they get closer and closer, making you back away.
The bricks in the wall open so quickly, you have no time to flee. Snape stands there, face placid until it quickly forms into a sneer. He can deduce what you were up to by your attire. He plants a in the center of your chest and shoves you back, then steps inside. He waves his wand rather rashly behind him and the bricks begin to slam the wall shut.
“What. Are. You. Doing?” he asks, through gritted teeth. You back up more, shaking your head, unsure of what to say. Fuck! How can you get out of this?
“I’m compelled!” you exclaim, without thinking it through. “I was going to come for your help. I’m sorry.” You lower your head, swallowing.
Snape stares at you, expression unwavering, as if he’s hesitant to believe you. “I told you not to leave.”
You nod. “I know, sir, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what to do anymore. It started this morning, it’s crippling me,” you lie.
Snape hums, then reaches out and wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling your arm up. You gasp and nearly stumble as he spins you around and pins your arm behind your back. He shoves you face first against the wall. He keeps your arm pinned behind you as he presses his hips against your arse. You sigh, shutting your eyes - you’re going to have to let this happen.
His free hand comes up and brushes your hair to the side, exposing your neck to the cool air of the brick hallway. He arches his head down and plants his mouth around the nape of your neck - it is electrifying for you. Your knees threaten to buckle. You can’t breathe. He runs his hand up the front of you, squeezing one breast over your school sweater with his massive hand. He groans, grinding himself against you again - his cock is hardening.
“You need to be punished,” Snape exhales against your neck. He leans even further down, his head resting next to yours now, his lips sucking right on your pulse point. Your eyes flutter and roll back. “How should you be punished?” he wonders, bringing his mouth to your cheek.
“I…I…” you stammer, shaking your head. Snape steps back, pulling you with him, then begins walking you back to the living quarters. He shoves you inside, releasing you from his grasp.
“Take your cloak and sweater off,” he commands, unclasping his own cloak where it connects at his chest. With shaky hands, you obey. You go to put your clothes on the arm chair. As you turn around, Snape is right there. He grabs your arm again, pulling you down as he sits down on the sofa. He throws you over his thighs, so you're lying over him with your hips bent over his lap. You immediately turn red and look over your shoulder.
“Since you cannot seem to follow simple instructions, you’ll be taking my hand to your arse.”
“You’re going to spank me?” you ask, holding back a laugh. It’s childish. You’ve never been spanked before. Snape cocks his head, then pushes your skirt up and exposes your bottom. You’re only wearing a pair of thin underwear. His dark eyes lustfully begin roaming over your arse, his hands squeeze and caress your skin.
“How many do you think you deserve?” he wonders. You gasp when he reaches downward, pressing a hand up against your opening.
“I don’t know, sir,” you whisper. He exhales through his nose, rubbing small circles over your skin. You feel his hand lift off. When he brings it back down too fast, you jolt. The sound of his hand connecting against your skin is loud and abrupt. Your arse stings. That hurt.
“We’ll start with five,” he breathes. You feel his cock rising beneath his trousers, it presses against your stomach. “Count them.”
“O-one,” you choke out. His hand rises again and there’s a quick rush of air before his hand comes down on you again. “Fuck!” you cry out, grasping the cushion of the sofa. “Two.”
“You’ve just added five more for your language, [Last name],” he adds. You squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for the next. When it comes, it isn’t any kinder than before. If anything, it stings even more. Your arse begins to throb. “What number is that?”
“Three,” you whisper. The next one comes as abruptly as the three before. You wiggle your hips, groaning and squirming. “Four,” you whimper. When he doesn’t move for a second, you turn your head over your shoulder. His dark eyes are on yours. Why is he staring so intensely? You watch his hand raise into the air and it comes flying back down. Your mouth opens and you cry out, feeling tears burn your eyes. “Five,” you choke out.
Snape’s hand begins to rub soothingly over your stinging arse. You watch him nod as he inspects your bottom. “Can you take five more?” Your head falls down when caresses little circles over the most sensitive, irritated skin. “Your skin is so red and angry,” he breathes, sounding happy about it, his voice dark, deep.
“Please, no more,” you whisper. His hand that isn’t rubbing your bottom comes up to grab a handful of your hair. He yanks your head up, making you gasp.
“You were disobeying one of the two rules I gave you,” he says, then clicks his tongue in disappointment. “What a bad little witch.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” you quickly say.
“What are you sorry for?” He pulls your hair harsher.
“For being disobedient!” you cry.
“Do you promise to be good?”
You nod. He pulls your hair even harder, making you whine inside your throat. “I can’t hear you,” he growls.
“Yes, I’ll be good,” you say. He’s enjoying this. Enjoying embarrassing you. Enjoying spanking you. It’s turning you on, how he’s manhandling you and talking to you, how he is being so thoroughly aroused by it. His cock keeps twitching beneath your thighs.
“You’ll be a good girl,” he demands.
You nod. “Yes, sir, I’ll be a good girl.” This seems to make him pleased. He lets go of your hair and proceeds to push your thighs apart. He presses his fingers between your legs, pushes your underwear to the side, and plunges them inside you. You moan out loud immediately. You weren’t compelled, but being punished so…differently by Professor Snape does something to you.
“I highly doubt you were compelled” he comments. “Yet, you’re so wet.” You swallow, not daring to look at him. He pumps his fingers in and out, curling and circling them, stretching them. “You can tell me the truth, you know.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
His hand slips out of your core. A quick draft of air over your irritated arse, then his hand slams down, hard and slightly wet from your arousal. You throw your head back, hissing through your teeth. “What number is that?”
“Six,” you groan, collapsing back onto the sofa.
“Were you truly compelled when you tried to sneak out of these chambers?” he questions. You gulp, not replying. After a moment, he spanks you again, so hard that it makes you move forward, nearly off his lap. While you whine and moan and pain, Snape grabs your hips to readjust you. His cock is twitching beneath you, eager and ready. “I expect an answer,” he informs, dangerously.
“Seven,” you say, hoarsely, still counting. You take a deep breath in. “No,” you admit. “I wasn’t compelled.”
His fingers return to your core now, thrusting pleasantly - you can hear how wet you are. You don’t know what to fucking feel now. Pleasure, pain, both? “Was that so hard? To be truthful?”
“I’m sorry, Professor Snape,” you pant, back arching in pleasure. “Oh, gods, that feels wonderful,” you sigh. He continues to finger you.
“I will punish bad behavior and I can reward the good,” he informs. His other hand snakes beneath you and fumbles around your skirt for a moment, before pushing beneath the band of your underwear. His fingers begin to rub your clit. “What were you doing?”
You moan, stupidly, bucking your hips up. He’s so good with his hands, how is he so good? “I was…ah…trying to go to the library. I want books on the Unbreakable Vow.”
You press against his hard cock, whining out in pleasure. His hand stops moving. “You think it is similar to our bond?”
You nod, wriggling your hips. “Please, more, sir?” you beg. He rolls his eyes, but starts moving his hands again. You shut your eyes and chest heaves.
“You have three spankings left,” he informs. You jolt your head towards him, shaking it. He nods slowly, his lips smirking. You whine quietly. “Do you deserve them to be gentler or harder?”
You press your lips together. He wants you to feel ashamed. He wants you to know you messed up. “I deserve to be spanked hard,” you whimper. He hums, pleasantly.
“Perhaps if you ask nicely, I will be gentler,” he suggests. You clear your throat.
“Please, Professor, don’t spank me hard,” you say. If it’s possible to be more red in the face, you are. “I’ll be a good girl,” you add. He exhales, sounding pleased. He takes his hands off of you and you squeeze your eyes shut. When his hand comes down, it is significantly less painful. It still stings - your skin is raised and red and irritated from the last seven spankings. “Eight,” you say, voice dry.
“What do you say to your Master for being gentle?”
“Thank you for being gentle, Master Snape,” you whisper so quietly you can barely hear yourself.
“Louder,” he commands.
You clear your throat and lift your head. “Thank you for being gentle, Master Snape!” you cry.
He groans deeply now, lifting his hips so his cock gets some friction against your thighs. He spanks you again, gently, but it still makes you hiss in pain. “Nine. Thank you for being gentle, Master Snape.”
He rubs his hand softly over your arse. When he doesn’t spank you again, you dare to turn your head over your shoulder. His head is leant back on the back of the couch, his eyes shut. You use this time to catch your breath. His cock so, so hard beneath you, it’s like you're being bent over a hard object, instead of his manhood.
“One more,” he speaks after collecting himself. “Can you take one more?” You take a deep breath in and nod. “What a good, obedient girl,” he praises.
His hand spanks you again, much more lackadaisical than the ones you’ve received. You moan lowly, unsure if it hurts. It felt…good. “Ten. Thank you, Master Snape, for being gentle when I deserved to be spanked hard,” you say, trying to please him. He grabs your hair again, winding it around his hand until he has a good grasp. He yanks you up, maneuvers you so you're straddling him now.
“Good, now we are getting somewhere.” He grabs your hands and places them on his shoulders. You grasp them, sighing at how strong they feel. His hands come up to the top button of your dress shirt and his fingers begin to unbutton it. Slowly, they go down, until the last one is undone. He shoves it apart, revealing your plain black bra. He grabs one of the cups and pulls down, exposing your breast. One long finger gently traces over your pierced nipple. “Are they still sore?” You shake your head, shutting your eyes. “Stop closing your eyes. Look at me,” he whispers.
When you open them, he’s leaning his head forward, eyes on yours. He takes your nipple into his mouth. With his other hand he fondles your other breast. You sigh, relaxing into him more. His cock flutters again, this time between your thighs and against your core. He swirls his tongue over your nipple, sucking and lightly biting at it. He groans against the sensitive skin, squeezing your breast with his hand harder. He does something with his tongue that makes you let out an abrupt moan. He pulls off of your nipple with a pop.
“You have a lovely body,” he compliments, making blood rush to your cheeks. “Take your shirt off for me.”
His dark eyes greedily gaze over your body as you obey his command. You slip off the dress shirt, letting it fall to the floor. “My bra?” you wonder.
He nods, reaching behind you himself and unclasping it with ease. You shrug that off too. He nods, examining your breasts again. He likes them.
“Reach down and undo my trousers.”
You do as he says again, lest you be put back over his lap and spanked. He lifts his hips - which impresses you because you’re sitting on him - when you get the belt open and his pants undone. You tug them down until his cock springs up, erect, with the tip glistening with his arousal. You wrap one hand around him, stroking him up and down.
He’s complimented you. You should do the same for him. You stare at his cock, gulping. “You have a…you have…”
You shut your eyes. Shame washes over you. You never thought you’d be spanked and degraded and used like this during sex. You like it, you think so anyway. Snape grabs your face with both of his hands, making you reopen your eyes.
“Don’t be shy, little witch,” he says.
“You have a…nice cock,” you whisper. Snape nods.
“That’s all you think about it? Nice?”
You stroke him again. “You have a nice, big, impressive cock, Master,” you say again, somewhat more confidently. Snape groans, leaning into your throat, beginning to scatter kisses down it.
“Use it,” he commands, against your skin. You look down, gulping, then lift your hips. You push against him to lean forward slightly. His face gets pressed against your chest, he just keeps kissing and sucking your skin. You adjust yourself until the tip of him is pressing against your opening. Snape must feel it, because he wraps his hands around your hips and forces you down on him, fast and hard.
“Ah!” you exclaim, then moan. Snape’s lips part and he lets out a sigh of pleasure. You grasp his shoulders, keeping yourself steady. He lifts your hips and repeats the action. You both look at each other, mouths opened, pleasure dilating your eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen such raw emotion on his face.
“You feel divine, as always,” he breathes. You’re slightly higher than him, how you’re on his lap. You take one hand and press it against his face, then lean down, parting your lips. When your lips connect with his, something must come over Snape. His arms wrap around you tightly, bringing you both close, bodies presssing. In his hold, he begins to force your body up and down, slowly at first. But that speed doesn’t last long. You’re both panting and moaning against each other's mouths, the buttons of his frock coat grinding against your chest, his cock getting so much deeper in the position that you almost can’t think. The pleasure. It’s all you can feel and think of.
“Merlin,” he sighs against your lips, before consuming yours again. His tongue sweeps in selfishly, demanding control of your mouth, because why wouldn’t he want control of that too? Soon enough, your arousal drips down his cock and onto him, causing the exertion of riding him to be audible in the room. Every thrust, a noise rings out, sounding slick and loud.
He groans into your mouth, then pulls away, letting you out of his arms. You grab his shoulders, beginning to bounce yourself up and down his length. His head lulls back - gods, he looks so human like this. His normal translucent face is colored with warmth, his mouth open, he’s panting - in complete ecstasy.
“That’s a good whore,” he says, voice somewhat hoarse. “Riding your Master’s cock with such desire.”
You moan at his words, nodding. His eyes drop to your chest, where your soft breasts are bouncing up and down for him. He reaches out and grabs one, squeezing. You’re getting close and don’t want to lose the momentum, so you pick up the pace, expending all of your strength to ride him faster. He clenches his hand around your breast now and a deep groan escapes his lungs.
“Tell me how it feels,” he pants, looking back up at you. You bite your lower lip, then try to talk, but nothing comes out. His other hand comes around and smacks your arse, making you scream.
“So good!” you cry out. “More, I want more,” you whine. He groans, thrusting his hips up as you come down - it makes you yelp. He continues, ramming himself up and into you, staring at you with such vigor that you can’t look away. You want to curse, but are afraid of repercussions. He doesn’t like when you curse.
“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, breathless. “You feel so wonderful around me.” You throw your head back and moan shakily when the pleasure erupts.
Snape grabs your hips and stands, impressing you again with his strength. He holds you against him as he thrusts inside you, through the contractions of your orgasm. He’s getting sloppy with the rhythm, almost desperate. His noises are intoxicating, how heavy he’s breathing, his groans and sighs. He turns his head into your neck, groaning against you, and coming to a halt. He begins to empty himself inside you. Carefully, he slowly sits back down, exhaling. His hands squeeze your hips so tight that you would ask him to stop if it weren’t for you still violently cumming around him. It’s a heady sensation, how you’re clenching and he’s filling you with his release.
“Fucking gods,” he breathes, coming down. You lean forward into him, resting your forehead on his shoulder. His hand comes up to your back, running it up and down your spine. You stay like that until your breaths are caught and calm. You lean back, wiping hair from your head, glancing at him. His dark eyes dart to you. They’re clouded and hazy with pleasure.
“Never…lie to me again,” he warns, hand coming up to squeeze the sensitive skin of your arse. You tense, grasping at the lapels of his jacket.
“No, sir,” you reply, hoarse. He grabs your hips and lifts you off of him. You sit down to the side of him on the sofa, crossing your arms over your bare chest. “Um, why did you come back early, anyway?”
He stands, tucking his cock inside his trousers and doing himself up. “A short day on the account of a meeting between the Headmaster and the four Head of Houses.”
You suppose it’s finished, or he wouldn’t have spent time here, fucking you. “Take a contraceptive potion. I will bathe first,” he instructs.
You watch him head to his room and retrieve a change of clothes, then he exits the living quarters and head to the bathroom. You lay down on your side, exhaling, trying to make your heart stop racing. You can feel the skin on your arse throbbing. Your hips are beginning to ache, too. That… was so good.
You go to your bedroom and get some lounge clothes, then return to the sofa and wait for Snape to be finished. Snape emerges from the hallway, hair wet, dressed in just black trousers and a white dress shirt. You stand now, wincing when your bottom pushes up from the sofa.
He glances at you, then lowers his eyes as you walk by him.
In the bath, you are unable to sit down - your bottom is too sensitive. You stand under the enchanted waterfall that leads into the bath instead. You scrub yourself and wash your hair, then stand and go through the sexual intercourse that just occurred. Neither of you were compelled. Snape knew you were lying. He wanted to fuck you.
Once you reenter the room, you see Snape walking out of his bedroom with a few leather bound books. He did have books in his room! “Books that have information on the Unbreakable Vow,” he informs.
He sits them down on the coffee table. You grab the first one, beginning to flip through it. Snape snatches it out of your hands. “Reading is for after dinner today,” he informs. He sits it back down on the table.
You frown. “It isn’t time for dinner,” you point out. He sits down.
“Let’s shut our eyes,” he suggests. He must be tired. He was up as late as you last night. You sit down as well, realizing you’ve not had any chance to actually relax since coming here. “Your head here.” He gestures to his lap. You blush, but slowly lay down and place your head across his thigh. He exhales and lays his head back on the couch.
You never took Snape for someone who liked to be touched without sex being involved. This is rather soft of him. You wonder what the meeting was about. He said the students have been frustrating him. Plus, you’re here when he gets off work, adding to the list of stressors. Why do you feel bad for him? He’s a Death Eater. He literally spanked you and enjoyed it and had you calling him ‘Master.’
After awhile, you open your eyes, seeing him in the same position he took earlier. His hands aren’t on you. You don’t want to wish they were, but you do. You reach over and grab one of the books, quietly flipping through it.
You find information on Unbreakable Vow, but it’s information you were already privy to. You can’t break it. If a person breaks the vow, they die. You lower the book as you ponder that thought. What if Snape has sex with another woman? Would that do anything? What if you have sex with another man?
Is this a binding contract where you only can exclusively fuck each other and no one else? Or would it be broken? You keep reading, trying to find more insightful content. But your eyes get heavy and you turn your head so it’s pressing against Snape’s abdomen. You’re far too comfy to protest. You’ve been too lonely as well - this is relieving and relaxing. Snape would be tolerable… if he weren’t a Death Eater.