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hpkinkfest2015-02-23 06:34 am
helenarickman.livejournal.com) wrote in hpkinkfest2015-02-23 06:34 am
Play Night
Title: Play Night
Author: Helena Rickman
Prompt Number: #36 submitted by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
teddyradiator
Kink Showcased:Daddy Dom/Lil' Girl
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s):Severus/Hermione
Summary: Dirty minds think alike.
Optional supplementary prompt:Ever since her sixth year he's fantasised about her. Now she is kneeling at his feet, and she needs what he can provide. Can he deliver? Post-war AU (Snape Lives)
Warnings/Content Notes: Daddy/Little Girl role play, lemons (fingering and fellatio), language (up to and including silly names for johnsons)
Word Count: 4,691
Author's Notes: NC-17. Don’t read it if you are not of legal age. This story is about sex between two consenting ADULTS who are role playing. Their game is deviant. I hope it is a believable fic.
AO3 link: here
Not mine, no money, JK Rowling would kill me if she knew what I’ve done here with Severus and Hermione. Thank you to my beta,gelsey, who was brave enough to take upon this subject matter with me. So, with a warped sense of humor and a passing nod to the Marriage Law Challenge, may I present to you, “Play Night”.
*********************************************
He couldn’t help but notice her during her first year. That damned hand waving, the demand to prove to her peers she could learn through books what they innately knew, and her kiss-up-to-teacher attitude. Insufferably pain in the arse, indeed. But most importantly, after a play-date with a mountain troll, she became Potter’s friend. He couldn’t stand her presence in his class. Because if Severus Snape was anything, he was a resentful man.
She seemed to fade into her peers during her second year. The hand waving subsided (just a little) but it was replaced by that need to prove her intelligence through her written assignments and homework. He could have ignored her that year, but the brat had to fuck around with Polyjuice Potion. This, of course, was made with pilfered school ingredients. If anything, he noted, she had no respect for rules and was more than willing to break them. The little degenerate.
By her third year he began to notice he didn’t notice her. This was a good thing. Maybe she noticed it, too, and didn’t like that. The needy little thing had to go werewolf baiting with Tweedledum and Tweedledee. As if he needed a second encounter with a werewolf during his miserable life.
The mark returned at the beginning of her fourth year, and with it, all of the sensations it could conjure. Over the course of weeks and months the serpent slowly came to life, stretching over his wrist like a waking dragon, and then testing its muscles like a warming reptile. During the Yule Ball, the tattoo started to sensuously caress him from wrist to elbow, awakening his own dormant desires. Pity this happened as she walked into the hall. Was she all but fourteen? Her age made it easy for him to ignore her, at least that year. Yet sometime around three in the morning he was forced to take himself in hand to relieve his lust, and he kept pushing the image of Rosmerta over that of a mere child.
Fifth year students can be such rule-breakers. He could have ignored her, but she and her cohorts thought they could challenge Lucius Malfoy and Associates, LLC. which forced him to concoct potions to heal her wounds. Wounds he couldn’t treat without intimate examination. Examination of breasts, breasts which were starting to take shape as her body morphed slowly from child to woman. Breasts he had to observe and analyze by sight and (under Madame Pomfrey’s supervision) by touch to ascertain exactly what Dark Magic was used in the curse. One could say that if Severus Snape was anything, he was a clinical man.
Then came her sixth year. A year full of stressors and anxiety, actively serving two masters as they prepared to battle. Her sixth year should have found him busy with Draco, but Draco was who forced him to truly notice her. The spoiled prat had to be extracted from the Slug’s Christmas Party by yours truly. It was while entering Sluggyville she brushed past him, obviously in a hurry to leave and do some revising or whatever she did. She looked… beguilingly sexual. Or so he thought.
That was the first night Severus Snape stroked his cock and actively envisioned Miss Granger instead of a bar wench. His obsession simmered as the year continued. His favorite pastime would be to surreptitiously grab a gander when possible. There was nothing better than watching her prance out of DADA class, not noticing the hem on her uniform skirt was two inches higher than when she arrived. Legs were safe. Hips, lips, waist, and those sweet little tits he once examined, well that could lead to trouble. Because if Severus Snape was anything, he was quickly morphing into a leg man.
******************************************
She had been such a decent young lady when they had married.
The Marriage Law had forced them together, yet within three months it was repealed. She had been free to go but stayed for reasons he couldn’t imagine. Oh, he was not the nicest of husbands, but he was attentive to her and, well, they did seem to be a good fit. He would have never imagined that the insufferable-know-it-all who had vexed his daily life for years would be so compatible. Maybe she enjoyed their compatibility. Maybe it had something to do with her declarations of love. Maybe it was too damn much trouble to file for a divorce.
That was his reasoning for not leaving. Shite, paperwork had been his bane as a professor, and he’d be fucking sure he would avoid any type of administrative duties if possible. Plus, his wife had long, lean legs. Legs that seemed to stretch for miles. Smooth legs, the type that could wrap around his waist and lock into place for the ride. Legs that had grown tan over the summer and felt so damn good to rub his willy over. No, if paperwork could be avoided, then avoid it he would.
He was shocked to discover on their wedding night that at twenty-two years she was still a virgin. Hermione seemed embarrassed to admit that not many opportunities had come her way, and the ginger-headed dolt whom he would have guessed would have deflowered her had not been a very compelling reason to give it up. It had almost been like receiving a wedding gift from his blushing bride. Territory he claimed as his own and he staked his claim in a most thorough manner.
Her lack of experience seemed to be a hindrance those first few weeks. A conservative Muggle upbringing (Catholic, indeed) had suited her more for a convent than the bed of a former Death Eater. But if Severus Snape was anything, he was a patient man.
She was the putty in his artistic hands. He introduced her slowly to variety, but in a most sneaky Slytherin way. All it took was hiding a proper artifact in a place where she would stick that perky nose of hers. And so, two weeks into their matrimony Hermione Snape discovered a one-hundred and fifty year old copy of the “Kama Sutra” in his bureau drawer underneath his pants. A book. Who would have guessed.
The minx discovered the joys of her G-Spot while riding rough cowgirl on their one-month anniversary. It was her favorite position, even though she insisted on trying a new one each day. Yessiree, every day. Chalk up another reason not to divorce. He didn’t mind. For if Severus Snape was anything, he was a sexually deviant man.
Hermione thought he was romantic when he remembered their two-month anniversary. Little Miss Legs had so much to learn. His gift was a tangible one, but didn’t come in a box. Well, he hoped it would come in her box, but, that would be for her to decide.
“Mrs. Snape,” he rasped in her ear, “Your gift tonight will be of your choosing. Tell me your dark fantasies and let me fulfill them.”
Mrs. Snape might have started out as a conservative young lady but she was quickly learning to embrace her sensual and lascivious side. It didn’t surprise her big bad husband when she chastely admitted she wanted to play prostitute to his john.
“I’ll play that game. Close your eyes, my little tart. I know just the thing.” And with those seductively spoken words, he wrapped his arms around her and Disaparated both of them to a dark, smelly corner of Knockturn Alley. That was the night his wife perfected the art of fellatio. On a public street, no less, and spotted by at least one pissed wizard. He paid her eight galleons for her effort, twice the standard rate. Always let it be said that if Severus Snape was anything, he was a good tipper.
Henceforth each monthly anniversary would be named “Play Night” by Little Miss Legs. Every other month Severus chose the scenario alternating with Hermione’s adventures. Her requests were immature for his tastes (Knight in shining armor awakening her with a kiss, indeed). Yet he reminded himself of her naiveté, and turnabout was fair play, especially when she was turned about on her hands and knees. And she was willing to try.
His play choices were much more adventurous and her declarations must have been true because she was willing to play along. His choices that first year included (but were not limited to):
1. Detention in the Potions Classroom
2. Her buggering him with a shiny new strap-on
3. Spanking the monkey whilst he watched her fuck herself with said strap-on
4. Enjoying a threesome with a nameless Muggle gigolo (Fucking her from behind while watching another man’s cock fuck her mouth had brought wet dreams for a week)
5. Detention in the Potions Classroom
6. Pretend ‘Pet Play’, he being a dog, no less.
He discovered she was adventurous to a point. She had turned him down on his request to watch if he brought a real dog home to lick her cunt. Well, you can’t win them all and he reluctantly accepted. Because if Severus Snape was anything, he was an understanding wizard.
The crazy thing was Hermione enthusiastically participated in his fantasy play, yet she still wouldn’t request anything more lascivious than a pretend “I’m a Death Eater and I’m going to catch you, rape you, and eat you” night. Some unfulfilled desire must have been hidden so deep in her psyche that she wasn’t willing to share and he was determined to find out what it was.
And so he began to invade her in the most intimate way and in a manner she didn’t notice. She made it so easy. As they became caught up in their daily passion, he could so easily slip into her mind as she was reaching her peak and staring at him with those loving, trusting eyes. His self control was an asset. For ten seconds or so he could dig around like a Niffler, looking for that little nugget of a secret before he let loose in that tight little puss of hers. Correction, that tight little puss of his. In less than one week he thought “Eureka! I’ve struck gold!” Never forget, if Severus Snape was anything, he was a Legillimens extraordinaire.
Recalling his attributes of patience, Severus waited almost forty-nine days, seven hours and nineteen minutes before his witch sauntered to his side. While sliding one of those leggity legs through his thighs, she leaned into him and whispered, “Happy Anniversary, Luv. What’s on tonight’s menu?” knowing full good and well she was the especial du jour.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you would allow me to transfigure some of your clothes into another sexy costume? I really enjoyed watching you prance around in a school uniform during detention.”
The wicked thing stretched up his torso and drew her tongue across his Adam’s apple, then left a trail of moisture as she snaked her way to his ear. “Anything, luv, I’m feeling adventurous. Except animal husbandry. Surprise me.”
And with that he had her stand in the middle of the room. He blind-folded her, hoping she wouldn’t bolt if she saw what was coming. Some silly wand waving transfigured her clothes and added a few cosmetic touches. When he was through, he guided her to their full length mirror and stood steadily behind her. Pointing his wand he warned the glass “Don’t say a word or I shall drop you to the depths of the Black Lake.” Then he unloosed her blind and caught her eyes in the mirror. “Now, then. Aren’t you a cute little catch.”
Hermione studied her transformation. The first thing she noticed was her thick hair. It had been carefully braided in two sections, each tied nicely with blue gingham ribbons. Reminded her of that slut, Lavender. But there was something about it on her that she liked.
She took in her full image. Her vee-necked muggle tee was now a cap-sleeved button up white blouse, complete with a Peter Pan collar. She wore a floral print skirt - if you could call it a skirt. The hem was so short that in the front it barely dropped below her lady bits, and in the back it rode high enough to show the cheeks of her arse. One could see where the tops of her thighs kissed each other if one so desired.
In her opinion her legs looked out-of-place. They were a woman’s legs, and almost every inch of them was on full view. The sight ended at her feet. Short white socks were folded over so the lace edges encircled her ankles. She was wearing cotton trainers so white they reminded her of snow. It didn’t help that her summer tan accentuated the whiteness and sordid purity of her costume. Upon her knee was a bandage, and dirt was smeared across the knee, her arms, and one of her cheeks.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Poppet. You’ve gone out and played in the dirt. Daddy can’t have you run around the house with filthy hands.”
Hermione froze. This was the one fantasy she wouldn’t/couldn’t/shouldn’t ever share with him. It was lewd. It was sick. It was immoral. It was kinky in a bad, taboo way. It was obviously a fantasy they shared, and she would have never guessed he would harbor such longings. Dangerous longings. Longings she was ashamed she hid in the dark places of her heart.
“Daddy thinks his Poppet needs to clean up after playing outside. Do you want Daddy to give you a bath, my darling little girl?”
There was something so seductive in his voice. She watched his eyes as he mouthed the words, and a devilish sneer bent his lips. He stood behind her with both arms on her shoulders, and squeezed softly when he said she was his darling little girl. Her white cotton knickers grew wet with arousal.
He watched as the wheels turned in the brilliant mind of his witch. She must have deduced this was his fantasy (which it was), not hers and decided to absolve herself from the sins of depravity about to occur. Little Miss Legs was responding in a most positive manner.
She knew his weakness and played her part well. Still facing the mirror, she shifted her weight to one leg whilst bending the other at the knee, turning the toe of her foot inward oh, so, delicately. She tilted her head, grabbed a braid and brought its end to her mouth. After a small chew on its end, she looked coyly into mirror-Severus’ eyes and in her softest sing-song voice admitted “Daddy, I didn’t mean to get dirty. I don’t know how to run a bath. I make it too, too cold. Will you run the bath water for me please, Daddy?”
And with that Severus took her hand in his and led her to the bathroom. He leaned over the claw-footed tub and turned the taps on.
“Daddy, I can’t get this top button undone. Please, Daddy! Help me with my blouse!”
He didn’t expect her to be so demanding with her fantasy. This may be fun after all.
“Turn around, Precious. Let Daddy help you with your blouse.” And with that, Severus started to slowly unbutton her shirt. With each exposure of skin, he placed his fingertip and drew a slow line across the skin.
“Daddy, that tickles” Hermione breathed. He brought his finger back to just above her clavicle, and pressed down gently.
“Is that better, my girl? Daddy doesn’t want to tickle you unless you want Daddy to tickle you.”
“That’s better, Daddy. Maybe we can play the tickle game after my bath, if I’m not too sleepy.”
The tickle game. Saucy little kitten.
Severus made a point of testing the water temperature with his hand before turning off the tap. “It’s ready, Poppet. Now let’s get you undressed and into the tub.”
Severus unbuttoned the rest of her blouse. He gently pulled each arm through its sleeve. She stood before him, skirt, trainers, socks, and knickers. Once again, she jutted a hip out, leaning her weight to one side, and standing tall and proud. Her small round breasts awaited his inspection.
“Take the rest of your clothes off, Precious. Daddy doesn’t have all day.”
Hermione wandlessly divested and walked to the tub. “Help me, Daddy. I’m afraid I will slip.”
Severus took her arm and steadied her as she lowered herself into the bath water. He removed his frock coat and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. He knelt next to the tub and started soaping a flannel.
“How did you get that boo-boo on your knee, Poppet?”
“I fell down outside. It hurts. Will you kiss it, Daddy, and make it better?”
“Of course I will.” Severus reached into the water and brought her leg to lie across the side of the tub, dripping water across his thighs. He leaned lightly over her knee, removed the bandage and gently kissed it.
“Does it feel better now, my good girl?”
“Not really, Daddy. Kiss it again.” Demanding brat.
Severus placed his right hand on her calf, and his left inside the tub to her inner thigh. He leaned once more to her knee and opened his lips to envelope the joint. While applying a slow suck, he began to massage her leg at both places.
Next, he took the flannel and squeezed drops of soap from her ankle to where her thigh left the water. His hands resumed their exploration, stretching in both directions so he could slide them across her skin from ankle to hip. He leaned into her knee again, and suckled the imaginary wound. Her moan brought out the randy nature of his beast.
“Oh, Daddy, that feels so much better. My boo-boo doesn’t hurt anymore.” She rewarded him with a coquettish smile.
“Have you washed behind your ears? Did you get the dirt off your face?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m all clean. I’ve washed all over.”
“All over? Did you wash your dirty little place between your legs?”
“No, Daddy. I’m sorry. It feels funny when I wash myself down there.”
“Here, Poppet, let Daddy help you. I want to make certain you are my clean little girl.”
Hermione leaned back into the tub and closed her eyes. She savored the sensation. The hand on her calf slid across her knee and over her thigh. She heard the gentle disturbance of the water as his hand moved below the surface. He must have leaned closer to her; she could feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, “Part your legs a little further, Precious. I need to make certain all of your hidden parts are good and clean.” And clean those parts would be. Hell, if Severus Snape was anything, he was a clean freak.
Her heart raced as she spread her thighs. His fingers worked through her folds, separating her labia from her inner lips, trailing a finger over each crevice, then up to her clit. He stroked it twice, then resumed his exploration of her labia. The lips were swelling and felt like a plum. They grew warm as blood rushed to reinforce her arousal. So soft… soft like a sixteen year old student should be. Visions of her in the DADA class flew across his imagination as if it were only yesterday. He breached her vagina with an inquisitive finger. “Daddy needs to make sure you are clean inside and out, Poppet. Hold still while I check.” With that, he drew his hand from her pussy to his nose and drew in a deep breath. His digital exploration resumed, stroking her clit until her face was pink and flush. Then just for the fun of it, he dragged a sole finger towards her perineum. She arched for him to enter her, and when he didn’t she bent towards him.
“Mustn’t do that, Poppet. Daddy shouldn’t touch you inside there.” He brought his finger to stroke her anus, then announced, “You are all clean. Let’s get you dried off. Daddy can read you a story before bedtime.”
***************************************
Ten minutes later Hermione was curled up in her husband’s lap wearing a loosely wrapped dressing gown and not much else.
“Daddy, what book are you going to read me tonight?”
“I didn’t bring a book, Poppet. I thought you wanted to play the tickle game?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. Severus touched her ribs and fluttered his fingers over them.
“Stop, Daddy! Stop! You are going to make me pee!”
He continued his torture, moving from her side to where the dressing gown parted. He fluttered her fingers across her breastbone, and her giggles subsided to deeper breaths.
“Poppet, you must stop squirming so in Daddy’s lap. Daddy now has a stiffy because your lap tickled mine. You’re a bad girl, Poppet. Do you want me to give you a spanking for making Daddy’s cock hard, or do you want to make it go away?”
“Daddy, how do I make it go away? Will it hurt you?”
“My sweet girl, all you have to do is lick Daddy’s stiffy like it was a Honeyduke’s lolly. You like lollys, don’t you?’
“Yes” Hermione breathed. She crawled out of his lap and knelt between his knees.
“Open your gown, my pretty girl. I want to see how clean you are after your bath.”
Hermione caught his eyes as she untied the loose strap around her waist, letting the sleeves slide off her arms and the gown puddle around her legs.
He visually feasted on her body. Hermione had spent the prior week with Ginevra Weasley at the beach, and her pale breasts stood out in stark contrast against her golden tan. At least she had worn a modest bikini. Ginevra was a bad influence, and he didn’t put it past the two of them to sun topless if given half the chance.
Her creamy breasts had never been large. Anything more than a mouthful’s a waste, he always thought. He wife was how he liked her. Round enough to be a woman, yet small enough to remind him of her sixth-year image. Remembering her in his class made his todger throb.
“You are Daddy’s pretty girl, aren’t you? Unbutton Daddy’s pants like a good girl for me and find the lolly hidden inside.”
Being both pretty and good, Hermione unloosed his pants and his old fellow bounced to attention.
“Mmm, Daddy, that lolly looks good. Can I lick it, please?”
“Yes, my little girl. Lick Daddy’s lolly for him.”
Hermione gently held his shaft at the base. Just like a child, she drew her tongue up his length, from base to tip. She worked her way around his shaft making certain every side was lathed thoroughly. Once equal attention had been applied to all seven inches of his thick schlong, Hermione decided to act more like an adult than a child, and practiced the talents she had perfected in Knockturn Alley.
Severus’ breathing deepened as she tickled his glans with her tongue, then used her hand to pull his foreskin as high as possible and ran her tongue between the spaces it made with his rod. He threaded his fingers in her hair, enjoying the sensations of it bobbing up and down as she suckled upon her candy treat.
Hermione spit into her palm and brought her hand to cover one side of his penis. She opened her mouth as if in a kiss, then turned her head sideways, taking she shaft in her mouth. Palm and mouth worked in a coordinated dance as they rose to the tip, then dived to the crotch. Her tongue coated his skin and her teeth teased at his veins. His panted, shallow and rapid breaths, and he leaned his head back while he thrust his hips forward. Just as Severus was about to climax, Hermione pulled away and sat back on her haunches.
The naughty little witch.
“Darling, why are you stopping? You were making Daddy very happy. Don’t you like your lolly?”
“I like it Daddy, but I thought it would be sticky. It never got sticky. I like sticky lollys the best, Daddy. Do you have a sticky lolly for me?”
“Poppet, you know that whatever you want, Daddy will give it to you.” With that, Severus stood from his chair and looked down on this pretend-girl at his feet. He grasped his penis, and commanded “Bring Daddy your sweet little mouth, little girl.”
She rose on her knees and he grasped her on either side of her head. His knees were slightly bent, and he guided himself into her soft, wet, mouth. Hermione held his flanks and steadied herself.
“Poppet, because you’ve been such a good girl, Daddy has a pressie for you. Daddy knows what you want. You need to be a good girl and let Daddy fuck your mouth, and I’ll give you a very, very sticky lolly.”
Hermione raised her eyes to him, then tried to pull his hips into her face. Severus pushed in slowly, and as he felt her throat stretch, he steadied himself and began to thrust rhythmically. Her tongue did its best to cradle his cock and press against it on each pass. It took no more than twenty seconds for her to hear him growl and feel his spurt in her throat. Because if her husband was anything, he was an efficient man.
Severus gently pulled away from her face and held his now half-flaccid staff in hand. “Here you go, Poppet. Enjoy your sticky lolly, you’ve earned it.”
Hermione licked him clean, then wiped the lingering drops from her lips. Severus sat back in his chair and looked at her waiting patiently for his instruction.
“You’ve made Daddy very happy tonight. Come sit in my lap again, Precious, and let me hold and hug you.”
Hermione climbed into his lap once again, and wrapped her hands around his neck, giving him a soft kiss upon his cheek.
Severus drew her to him, and sweetly kissed her upon the lips, savoring the salty taste of his lingering cum.
“Did you enjoy my game, Hermione? You didn’t seem too uncomfortable with it.”
“Something tells me that game wasn’t for you, Severus. How did you figure out I had always wanted to play Daddy/L’il girl? I would have never had the courage to tell you. You would think your wife was depraved.”
“Well, your depraved husband has truly wanted to play that game with you for a long, long time. It was I who lacked the courage to suggest those roles for play night. I’m glad you were comfortable enough with that scenario to let me play.”
“You had the courage to say you wanted to see me have interspecies sex with a dog, yet you were afraid to mention this? Tell me one thing, luv. How long exactly have you wanted to play that game?”
If Severus Snape had never looked bashful before, he certainly did now. This would be a night of firsts.
“Do not think ill of me Hermione. I’ve wanted to play Daddy for you since Slughorn’s Christmas party.”
“Well, you dirty old man,” Hermione teased. “That makes two of us. I’ve wanted you to fuck me silly since you saved us from Lupin.”
With that, Severus grabbed his bundle of girl/woman/wife in his arms and stood.
“Technically there has been no traditional fucking yet this evening. And you have long since grown from being a silly girl. Let’s see if I can fuck you enough to bring that silly back.”
He carried her to the bedchambers and tossed her upon their bed with enough force to cause her to bounce off the mattress. He quickly undressed, then bounced down next to her, pulling her close and growling into her neck.
Giggles echoed into the living room over the next hour as Severus did indeed fuck Hermione silly. Because if Severus Snape was anything, he was a wizard who truly loved and adored his witch.
Author: Helena Rickman
Prompt Number: #36 submitted by
teddyradiatorKink Showcased:Daddy Dom/Lil' Girl
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s):Severus/Hermione
Summary: Dirty minds think alike.
Optional supplementary prompt:Ever since her sixth year he's fantasised about her. Now she is kneeling at his feet, and she needs what he can provide. Can he deliver? Post-war AU (Snape Lives)
Warnings/Content Notes: Daddy/Little Girl role play, lemons (fingering and fellatio), language (up to and including silly names for johnsons)
Word Count: 4,691
Author's Notes: NC-17. Don’t read it if you are not of legal age. This story is about sex between two consenting ADULTS who are role playing. Their game is deviant. I hope it is a believable fic.
AO3 link: here
Not mine, no money, JK Rowling would kill me if she knew what I’ve done here with Severus and Hermione. Thank you to my beta,
gelsey, who was brave enough to take upon this subject matter with me. So, with a warped sense of humor and a passing nod to the Marriage Law Challenge, may I present to you, “Play Night”.*********************************************
He couldn’t help but notice her during her first year. That damned hand waving, the demand to prove to her peers she could learn through books what they innately knew, and her kiss-up-to-teacher attitude. Insufferably pain in the arse, indeed. But most importantly, after a play-date with a mountain troll, she became Potter’s friend. He couldn’t stand her presence in his class. Because if Severus Snape was anything, he was a resentful man.
She seemed to fade into her peers during her second year. The hand waving subsided (just a little) but it was replaced by that need to prove her intelligence through her written assignments and homework. He could have ignored her that year, but the brat had to fuck around with Polyjuice Potion. This, of course, was made with pilfered school ingredients. If anything, he noted, she had no respect for rules and was more than willing to break them. The little degenerate.
By her third year he began to notice he didn’t notice her. This was a good thing. Maybe she noticed it, too, and didn’t like that. The needy little thing had to go werewolf baiting with Tweedledum and Tweedledee. As if he needed a second encounter with a werewolf during his miserable life.
The mark returned at the beginning of her fourth year, and with it, all of the sensations it could conjure. Over the course of weeks and months the serpent slowly came to life, stretching over his wrist like a waking dragon, and then testing its muscles like a warming reptile. During the Yule Ball, the tattoo started to sensuously caress him from wrist to elbow, awakening his own dormant desires. Pity this happened as she walked into the hall. Was she all but fourteen? Her age made it easy for him to ignore her, at least that year. Yet sometime around three in the morning he was forced to take himself in hand to relieve his lust, and he kept pushing the image of Rosmerta over that of a mere child.
Fifth year students can be such rule-breakers. He could have ignored her, but she and her cohorts thought they could challenge Lucius Malfoy and Associates, LLC. which forced him to concoct potions to heal her wounds. Wounds he couldn’t treat without intimate examination. Examination of breasts, breasts which were starting to take shape as her body morphed slowly from child to woman. Breasts he had to observe and analyze by sight and (under Madame Pomfrey’s supervision) by touch to ascertain exactly what Dark Magic was used in the curse. One could say that if Severus Snape was anything, he was a clinical man.
Then came her sixth year. A year full of stressors and anxiety, actively serving two masters as they prepared to battle. Her sixth year should have found him busy with Draco, but Draco was who forced him to truly notice her. The spoiled prat had to be extracted from the Slug’s Christmas Party by yours truly. It was while entering Sluggyville she brushed past him, obviously in a hurry to leave and do some revising or whatever she did. She looked… beguilingly sexual. Or so he thought.
That was the first night Severus Snape stroked his cock and actively envisioned Miss Granger instead of a bar wench. His obsession simmered as the year continued. His favorite pastime would be to surreptitiously grab a gander when possible. There was nothing better than watching her prance out of DADA class, not noticing the hem on her uniform skirt was two inches higher than when she arrived. Legs were safe. Hips, lips, waist, and those sweet little tits he once examined, well that could lead to trouble. Because if Severus Snape was anything, he was quickly morphing into a leg man.
******************************************
She had been such a decent young lady when they had married.
The Marriage Law had forced them together, yet within three months it was repealed. She had been free to go but stayed for reasons he couldn’t imagine. Oh, he was not the nicest of husbands, but he was attentive to her and, well, they did seem to be a good fit. He would have never imagined that the insufferable-know-it-all who had vexed his daily life for years would be so compatible. Maybe she enjoyed their compatibility. Maybe it had something to do with her declarations of love. Maybe it was too damn much trouble to file for a divorce.
That was his reasoning for not leaving. Shite, paperwork had been his bane as a professor, and he’d be fucking sure he would avoid any type of administrative duties if possible. Plus, his wife had long, lean legs. Legs that seemed to stretch for miles. Smooth legs, the type that could wrap around his waist and lock into place for the ride. Legs that had grown tan over the summer and felt so damn good to rub his willy over. No, if paperwork could be avoided, then avoid it he would.
He was shocked to discover on their wedding night that at twenty-two years she was still a virgin. Hermione seemed embarrassed to admit that not many opportunities had come her way, and the ginger-headed dolt whom he would have guessed would have deflowered her had not been a very compelling reason to give it up. It had almost been like receiving a wedding gift from his blushing bride. Territory he claimed as his own and he staked his claim in a most thorough manner.
Her lack of experience seemed to be a hindrance those first few weeks. A conservative Muggle upbringing (Catholic, indeed) had suited her more for a convent than the bed of a former Death Eater. But if Severus Snape was anything, he was a patient man.
She was the putty in his artistic hands. He introduced her slowly to variety, but in a most sneaky Slytherin way. All it took was hiding a proper artifact in a place where she would stick that perky nose of hers. And so, two weeks into their matrimony Hermione Snape discovered a one-hundred and fifty year old copy of the “Kama Sutra” in his bureau drawer underneath his pants. A book. Who would have guessed.
The minx discovered the joys of her G-Spot while riding rough cowgirl on their one-month anniversary. It was her favorite position, even though she insisted on trying a new one each day. Yessiree, every day. Chalk up another reason not to divorce. He didn’t mind. For if Severus Snape was anything, he was a sexually deviant man.
Hermione thought he was romantic when he remembered their two-month anniversary. Little Miss Legs had so much to learn. His gift was a tangible one, but didn’t come in a box. Well, he hoped it would come in her box, but, that would be for her to decide.
“Mrs. Snape,” he rasped in her ear, “Your gift tonight will be of your choosing. Tell me your dark fantasies and let me fulfill them.”
Mrs. Snape might have started out as a conservative young lady but she was quickly learning to embrace her sensual and lascivious side. It didn’t surprise her big bad husband when she chastely admitted she wanted to play prostitute to his john.
“I’ll play that game. Close your eyes, my little tart. I know just the thing.” And with those seductively spoken words, he wrapped his arms around her and Disaparated both of them to a dark, smelly corner of Knockturn Alley. That was the night his wife perfected the art of fellatio. On a public street, no less, and spotted by at least one pissed wizard. He paid her eight galleons for her effort, twice the standard rate. Always let it be said that if Severus Snape was anything, he was a good tipper.
Henceforth each monthly anniversary would be named “Play Night” by Little Miss Legs. Every other month Severus chose the scenario alternating with Hermione’s adventures. Her requests were immature for his tastes (Knight in shining armor awakening her with a kiss, indeed). Yet he reminded himself of her naiveté, and turnabout was fair play, especially when she was turned about on her hands and knees. And she was willing to try.
His play choices were much more adventurous and her declarations must have been true because she was willing to play along. His choices that first year included (but were not limited to):
1. Detention in the Potions Classroom
2. Her buggering him with a shiny new strap-on
3. Spanking the monkey whilst he watched her fuck herself with said strap-on
4. Enjoying a threesome with a nameless Muggle gigolo (Fucking her from behind while watching another man’s cock fuck her mouth had brought wet dreams for a week)
5. Detention in the Potions Classroom
6. Pretend ‘Pet Play’, he being a dog, no less.
He discovered she was adventurous to a point. She had turned him down on his request to watch if he brought a real dog home to lick her cunt. Well, you can’t win them all and he reluctantly accepted. Because if Severus Snape was anything, he was an understanding wizard.
The crazy thing was Hermione enthusiastically participated in his fantasy play, yet she still wouldn’t request anything more lascivious than a pretend “I’m a Death Eater and I’m going to catch you, rape you, and eat you” night. Some unfulfilled desire must have been hidden so deep in her psyche that she wasn’t willing to share and he was determined to find out what it was.
And so he began to invade her in the most intimate way and in a manner she didn’t notice. She made it so easy. As they became caught up in their daily passion, he could so easily slip into her mind as she was reaching her peak and staring at him with those loving, trusting eyes. His self control was an asset. For ten seconds or so he could dig around like a Niffler, looking for that little nugget of a secret before he let loose in that tight little puss of hers. Correction, that tight little puss of his. In less than one week he thought “Eureka! I’ve struck gold!” Never forget, if Severus Snape was anything, he was a Legillimens extraordinaire.
Recalling his attributes of patience, Severus waited almost forty-nine days, seven hours and nineteen minutes before his witch sauntered to his side. While sliding one of those leggity legs through his thighs, she leaned into him and whispered, “Happy Anniversary, Luv. What’s on tonight’s menu?” knowing full good and well she was the especial du jour.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you would allow me to transfigure some of your clothes into another sexy costume? I really enjoyed watching you prance around in a school uniform during detention.”
The wicked thing stretched up his torso and drew her tongue across his Adam’s apple, then left a trail of moisture as she snaked her way to his ear. “Anything, luv, I’m feeling adventurous. Except animal husbandry. Surprise me.”
And with that he had her stand in the middle of the room. He blind-folded her, hoping she wouldn’t bolt if she saw what was coming. Some silly wand waving transfigured her clothes and added a few cosmetic touches. When he was through, he guided her to their full length mirror and stood steadily behind her. Pointing his wand he warned the glass “Don’t say a word or I shall drop you to the depths of the Black Lake.” Then he unloosed her blind and caught her eyes in the mirror. “Now, then. Aren’t you a cute little catch.”
Hermione studied her transformation. The first thing she noticed was her thick hair. It had been carefully braided in two sections, each tied nicely with blue gingham ribbons. Reminded her of that slut, Lavender. But there was something about it on her that she liked.
She took in her full image. Her vee-necked muggle tee was now a cap-sleeved button up white blouse, complete with a Peter Pan collar. She wore a floral print skirt - if you could call it a skirt. The hem was so short that in the front it barely dropped below her lady bits, and in the back it rode high enough to show the cheeks of her arse. One could see where the tops of her thighs kissed each other if one so desired.
In her opinion her legs looked out-of-place. They were a woman’s legs, and almost every inch of them was on full view. The sight ended at her feet. Short white socks were folded over so the lace edges encircled her ankles. She was wearing cotton trainers so white they reminded her of snow. It didn’t help that her summer tan accentuated the whiteness and sordid purity of her costume. Upon her knee was a bandage, and dirt was smeared across the knee, her arms, and one of her cheeks.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Poppet. You’ve gone out and played in the dirt. Daddy can’t have you run around the house with filthy hands.”
Hermione froze. This was the one fantasy she wouldn’t/couldn’t/shouldn’t ever share with him. It was lewd. It was sick. It was immoral. It was kinky in a bad, taboo way. It was obviously a fantasy they shared, and she would have never guessed he would harbor such longings. Dangerous longings. Longings she was ashamed she hid in the dark places of her heart.
“Daddy thinks his Poppet needs to clean up after playing outside. Do you want Daddy to give you a bath, my darling little girl?”
There was something so seductive in his voice. She watched his eyes as he mouthed the words, and a devilish sneer bent his lips. He stood behind her with both arms on her shoulders, and squeezed softly when he said she was his darling little girl. Her white cotton knickers grew wet with arousal.
He watched as the wheels turned in the brilliant mind of his witch. She must have deduced this was his fantasy (which it was), not hers and decided to absolve herself from the sins of depravity about to occur. Little Miss Legs was responding in a most positive manner.
She knew his weakness and played her part well. Still facing the mirror, she shifted her weight to one leg whilst bending the other at the knee, turning the toe of her foot inward oh, so, delicately. She tilted her head, grabbed a braid and brought its end to her mouth. After a small chew on its end, she looked coyly into mirror-Severus’ eyes and in her softest sing-song voice admitted “Daddy, I didn’t mean to get dirty. I don’t know how to run a bath. I make it too, too cold. Will you run the bath water for me please, Daddy?”
And with that Severus took her hand in his and led her to the bathroom. He leaned over the claw-footed tub and turned the taps on.
“Daddy, I can’t get this top button undone. Please, Daddy! Help me with my blouse!”
He didn’t expect her to be so demanding with her fantasy. This may be fun after all.
“Turn around, Precious. Let Daddy help you with your blouse.” And with that, Severus started to slowly unbutton her shirt. With each exposure of skin, he placed his fingertip and drew a slow line across the skin.
“Daddy, that tickles” Hermione breathed. He brought his finger back to just above her clavicle, and pressed down gently.
“Is that better, my girl? Daddy doesn’t want to tickle you unless you want Daddy to tickle you.”
“That’s better, Daddy. Maybe we can play the tickle game after my bath, if I’m not too sleepy.”
The tickle game. Saucy little kitten.
Severus made a point of testing the water temperature with his hand before turning off the tap. “It’s ready, Poppet. Now let’s get you undressed and into the tub.”
Severus unbuttoned the rest of her blouse. He gently pulled each arm through its sleeve. She stood before him, skirt, trainers, socks, and knickers. Once again, she jutted a hip out, leaning her weight to one side, and standing tall and proud. Her small round breasts awaited his inspection.
“Take the rest of your clothes off, Precious. Daddy doesn’t have all day.”
Hermione wandlessly divested and walked to the tub. “Help me, Daddy. I’m afraid I will slip.”
Severus took her arm and steadied her as she lowered herself into the bath water. He removed his frock coat and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. He knelt next to the tub and started soaping a flannel.
“How did you get that boo-boo on your knee, Poppet?”
“I fell down outside. It hurts. Will you kiss it, Daddy, and make it better?”
“Of course I will.” Severus reached into the water and brought her leg to lie across the side of the tub, dripping water across his thighs. He leaned lightly over her knee, removed the bandage and gently kissed it.
“Does it feel better now, my good girl?”
“Not really, Daddy. Kiss it again.” Demanding brat.
Severus placed his right hand on her calf, and his left inside the tub to her inner thigh. He leaned once more to her knee and opened his lips to envelope the joint. While applying a slow suck, he began to massage her leg at both places.
Next, he took the flannel and squeezed drops of soap from her ankle to where her thigh left the water. His hands resumed their exploration, stretching in both directions so he could slide them across her skin from ankle to hip. He leaned into her knee again, and suckled the imaginary wound. Her moan brought out the randy nature of his beast.
“Oh, Daddy, that feels so much better. My boo-boo doesn’t hurt anymore.” She rewarded him with a coquettish smile.
“Have you washed behind your ears? Did you get the dirt off your face?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m all clean. I’ve washed all over.”
“All over? Did you wash your dirty little place between your legs?”
“No, Daddy. I’m sorry. It feels funny when I wash myself down there.”
“Here, Poppet, let Daddy help you. I want to make certain you are my clean little girl.”
Hermione leaned back into the tub and closed her eyes. She savored the sensation. The hand on her calf slid across her knee and over her thigh. She heard the gentle disturbance of the water as his hand moved below the surface. He must have leaned closer to her; she could feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, “Part your legs a little further, Precious. I need to make certain all of your hidden parts are good and clean.” And clean those parts would be. Hell, if Severus Snape was anything, he was a clean freak.
Her heart raced as she spread her thighs. His fingers worked through her folds, separating her labia from her inner lips, trailing a finger over each crevice, then up to her clit. He stroked it twice, then resumed his exploration of her labia. The lips were swelling and felt like a plum. They grew warm as blood rushed to reinforce her arousal. So soft… soft like a sixteen year old student should be. Visions of her in the DADA class flew across his imagination as if it were only yesterday. He breached her vagina with an inquisitive finger. “Daddy needs to make sure you are clean inside and out, Poppet. Hold still while I check.” With that, he drew his hand from her pussy to his nose and drew in a deep breath. His digital exploration resumed, stroking her clit until her face was pink and flush. Then just for the fun of it, he dragged a sole finger towards her perineum. She arched for him to enter her, and when he didn’t she bent towards him.
“Mustn’t do that, Poppet. Daddy shouldn’t touch you inside there.” He brought his finger to stroke her anus, then announced, “You are all clean. Let’s get you dried off. Daddy can read you a story before bedtime.”
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Ten minutes later Hermione was curled up in her husband’s lap wearing a loosely wrapped dressing gown and not much else.
“Daddy, what book are you going to read me tonight?”
“I didn’t bring a book, Poppet. I thought you wanted to play the tickle game?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. Severus touched her ribs and fluttered his fingers over them.
“Stop, Daddy! Stop! You are going to make me pee!”
He continued his torture, moving from her side to where the dressing gown parted. He fluttered her fingers across her breastbone, and her giggles subsided to deeper breaths.
“Poppet, you must stop squirming so in Daddy’s lap. Daddy now has a stiffy because your lap tickled mine. You’re a bad girl, Poppet. Do you want me to give you a spanking for making Daddy’s cock hard, or do you want to make it go away?”
“Daddy, how do I make it go away? Will it hurt you?”
“My sweet girl, all you have to do is lick Daddy’s stiffy like it was a Honeyduke’s lolly. You like lollys, don’t you?’
“Yes” Hermione breathed. She crawled out of his lap and knelt between his knees.
“Open your gown, my pretty girl. I want to see how clean you are after your bath.”
Hermione caught his eyes as she untied the loose strap around her waist, letting the sleeves slide off her arms and the gown puddle around her legs.
He visually feasted on her body. Hermione had spent the prior week with Ginevra Weasley at the beach, and her pale breasts stood out in stark contrast against her golden tan. At least she had worn a modest bikini. Ginevra was a bad influence, and he didn’t put it past the two of them to sun topless if given half the chance.
Her creamy breasts had never been large. Anything more than a mouthful’s a waste, he always thought. He wife was how he liked her. Round enough to be a woman, yet small enough to remind him of her sixth-year image. Remembering her in his class made his todger throb.
“You are Daddy’s pretty girl, aren’t you? Unbutton Daddy’s pants like a good girl for me and find the lolly hidden inside.”
Being both pretty and good, Hermione unloosed his pants and his old fellow bounced to attention.
“Mmm, Daddy, that lolly looks good. Can I lick it, please?”
“Yes, my little girl. Lick Daddy’s lolly for him.”
Hermione gently held his shaft at the base. Just like a child, she drew her tongue up his length, from base to tip. She worked her way around his shaft making certain every side was lathed thoroughly. Once equal attention had been applied to all seven inches of his thick schlong, Hermione decided to act more like an adult than a child, and practiced the talents she had perfected in Knockturn Alley.
Severus’ breathing deepened as she tickled his glans with her tongue, then used her hand to pull his foreskin as high as possible and ran her tongue between the spaces it made with his rod. He threaded his fingers in her hair, enjoying the sensations of it bobbing up and down as she suckled upon her candy treat.
Hermione spit into her palm and brought her hand to cover one side of his penis. She opened her mouth as if in a kiss, then turned her head sideways, taking she shaft in her mouth. Palm and mouth worked in a coordinated dance as they rose to the tip, then dived to the crotch. Her tongue coated his skin and her teeth teased at his veins. His panted, shallow and rapid breaths, and he leaned his head back while he thrust his hips forward. Just as Severus was about to climax, Hermione pulled away and sat back on her haunches.
The naughty little witch.
“Darling, why are you stopping? You were making Daddy very happy. Don’t you like your lolly?”
“I like it Daddy, but I thought it would be sticky. It never got sticky. I like sticky lollys the best, Daddy. Do you have a sticky lolly for me?”
“Poppet, you know that whatever you want, Daddy will give it to you.” With that, Severus stood from his chair and looked down on this pretend-girl at his feet. He grasped his penis, and commanded “Bring Daddy your sweet little mouth, little girl.”
She rose on her knees and he grasped her on either side of her head. His knees were slightly bent, and he guided himself into her soft, wet, mouth. Hermione held his flanks and steadied herself.
“Poppet, because you’ve been such a good girl, Daddy has a pressie for you. Daddy knows what you want. You need to be a good girl and let Daddy fuck your mouth, and I’ll give you a very, very sticky lolly.”
Hermione raised her eyes to him, then tried to pull his hips into her face. Severus pushed in slowly, and as he felt her throat stretch, he steadied himself and began to thrust rhythmically. Her tongue did its best to cradle his cock and press against it on each pass. It took no more than twenty seconds for her to hear him growl and feel his spurt in her throat. Because if her husband was anything, he was an efficient man.
Severus gently pulled away from her face and held his now half-flaccid staff in hand. “Here you go, Poppet. Enjoy your sticky lolly, you’ve earned it.”
Hermione licked him clean, then wiped the lingering drops from her lips. Severus sat back in his chair and looked at her waiting patiently for his instruction.
“You’ve made Daddy very happy tonight. Come sit in my lap again, Precious, and let me hold and hug you.”
Hermione climbed into his lap once again, and wrapped her hands around his neck, giving him a soft kiss upon his cheek.
Severus drew her to him, and sweetly kissed her upon the lips, savoring the salty taste of his lingering cum.
“Did you enjoy my game, Hermione? You didn’t seem too uncomfortable with it.”
“Something tells me that game wasn’t for you, Severus. How did you figure out I had always wanted to play Daddy/L’il girl? I would have never had the courage to tell you. You would think your wife was depraved.”
“Well, your depraved husband has truly wanted to play that game with you for a long, long time. It was I who lacked the courage to suggest those roles for play night. I’m glad you were comfortable enough with that scenario to let me play.”
“You had the courage to say you wanted to see me have interspecies sex with a dog, yet you were afraid to mention this? Tell me one thing, luv. How long exactly have you wanted to play that game?”
If Severus Snape had never looked bashful before, he certainly did now. This would be a night of firsts.
“Do not think ill of me Hermione. I’ve wanted to play Daddy for you since Slughorn’s Christmas party.”
“Well, you dirty old man,” Hermione teased. “That makes two of us. I’ve wanted you to fuck me silly since you saved us from Lupin.”
With that, Severus grabbed his bundle of girl/woman/wife in his arms and stood.
“Technically there has been no traditional fucking yet this evening. And you have long since grown from being a silly girl. Let’s see if I can fuck you enough to bring that silly back.”
He carried her to the bedchambers and tossed her upon their bed with enough force to cause her to bounce off the mattress. He quickly undressed, then bounced down next to her, pulling her close and growling into her neck.
Giggles echoed into the living room over the next hour as Severus did indeed fuck Hermione silly. Because if Severus Snape was anything, he was a wizard who truly loved and adored his witch.