Trust

Severus Snape had already had more than enough of a bad day when he entered into the Slytherin Common room and found ten students involved in a rousing game of Co-Ed Exploding Strip Snap.

He lost his temper.

Not content with verbally eviscerating everyone in the room, half-dressed players or not, or assigning a month’s worth of detention to all the students involved in the game, he then took enough points from his own house to destroy their chances for the House Cup.

He sneered at their attempts to appease him and spun on his heel. He’d just made it to the door when he was hit from behind by a hex. He turned in fury, demanding to know who had done the deed, but all he saw was a wall of Slytherin Solidarity. The burning pain began to overwhelm him, so he simply threatened dire retribution, and beat a hasty exit.

He sent a Patronus to the Headmistress, and then hobbled off to find somewhere private to treat himself.

Thirty minutes later, he ended up staring at himself in the mirror of the faculty loo and cursing himself for being a stubborn fool. He heaved a sigh and began the long, exceedingly painful, trek to the hospital wing.

“There you are, Professor– Good heavens, Severus, are you going to make it? Do you want me to levitate you?”

“No, thank you, Minerva. I will be fine.”

“Where did they get you? You look like you’re having trouble walking, but I was told they hit you in the back.”

“It is just a rather painful curse. I thought it was a hex, but I believe I was mistaken.”

“Well, if you can’t treat it yourself, there’s nothing for it but to get you to Nurse Granger.”

“I had come to that conclusion myself. Did you catch the culprit?”

“Yes. As you predicted, they caved when I told them all to start packing their bags. Dormleus is your man. He’ll be on the train home tomorrow. I'm on my way to send his parents an owl.”

“Then by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help getting to the infirmary?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“Alright then, I’ll just be on my way. I’m terribly sorry this happened to you. Let me know if you think you can’t cover your classes tomorrow.”

“I'm sure I will be fine.”

“Alright. Have a better night, Severus.’

“You as well, Headmistress.”

McGonagall wasn't even out of sight yet, when Snape sagged against the wall. The pain was excruciating and he was furious at himself for not going straight to the hospital wing as soon as he was hit. At this rate, it would be a miracle if he got there at all, with the increasing intensity of the curse.

Walking was agony.

It was his fault he was in so much pain. Stubbornly spurning the Nurse’s skills, when he knew she more than capable, was a foolish thing to have done. She’d been on the staff for two years now, but he still couldn’t abide being near her. She had grown into a graceful, beautiful, charming and well-liked young woman. She made him want to vomit.

There was nothing for it but to soldier on. He sucked in a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other.

*

Hermione Granger was just changing the sheets on the bed after releasing Mr. Hawkings, when the chime told her someone else had arrived in her infirmary. She smoothed down her pinny and stepped out from around the curtain.

“Professor Snape! What’s happened?”

She hurried over to where the man was wavering, just inside the doorway, looking even more pale than usual. She got her shoulder under his arm and practically carried him to the first bed. He balked when he tried to get him to sit down.

“Cursed,” he ground out.

“Where?” she asked. “Which curse?”

His ashen face flooded with color and he darted a look at her and then the wall.

“My arse. Finite didn’t work. Nothing’s worked.”

“Alright, have a lie down on your stomach then. I’ll get this sorted.”

She watched the man try and climb onto the bed without bending. Obviously, moving his legs was agony. She considered just using magic to get him on the bed, but was more afraid of his temper than his pain. If the pain was that bad, he’d faint, and then she would take over.

Once he was down, he let out a tremendous sigh and seemed to melt onto the bed. She saw the slashed hole in the back of his robes and carefully lifted them away. His trousers were burned through in the seat and she saw what looked like burned bits of material embedded in the seared flesh she could see.

“You just lie there and relax as much as possible. I’m going to get a few things and come right back and we’ll get you some relief as soon as possible.”

He didn’t say anything, he was just clenching his jaw tightly.

“Professor, is the pain increasing?”

He jerked his head in a nod. His thin lips were bloodless.

“Alright, that certainly gives me a clue as to what family of curses we’re dealing with.”

She hurried back, pushing a wheeled tray full of potions, salves, bandages and Muggle examination gloves and scissors. She whipped the curtain closed around the bed and cast a silencing charm.

“Here, drink this; it will help dull the pain.” She helped him drink the potion, while lying on his belly. He gulped at it greedily, and she reflexively swiped at the dribble on his lip. He grabbed the pillow and pulled it until it was half under his chest and buried his face in it.

“Professor, there’s no way I can treat you and keep your dignity intact, I'm afraid,” she said, as she rolled his robes up along his back and lifted up the scissors. “I hope you trust that I am extremely discreet. I cannot Vanish your trousers, because I don’t know what effect the magic would have on the curse. I'm going to cut away the cloth. I’ll be as gentle as possible.”

He nodded his head sharply once.

She started well away from the torn cloth, cutting from the pocket and along one thigh. She cut through his leather belt as well. She did the same to the other side and them lowered his ruined garment and revealed his pants. As she had feared, whatever hex he had been hit with, had superheated the skin and burned the cloth into it. How the man had managed to walk here was beyond her.

She worked quickly to cut away his pants. His skin was raw and angry-looking across both cheeks, but heavily blistered on the left side.

Since she couldn’t risk using magic on her hands, she snatched up the gloves and shoved her hands into them with a snap. She scooped up salve and turned to him.

“You're going to feel my touch now. This will hurt like hell, but the pain should start to diminish right away.”

She gently smeared the cream across the worst areas first, and he screamed into the pillow. She kept her touch as light as possible and worked swiftly to cover the entire effected area to start drawing out the curse quickly. She made note of the time as soon as she saw his body start to relax.

“I need to massage the salve into the effected area for ten minutes exactly. That will be a lot longer than you think it is. The salve will draw out the curse in stages. You will actually feel better before the time is up, but you will have to stay still until I’m done. Unfortunately, this treatment might need to be redone for the next three days. It will either work in one shot tonight, or it will need the extra time. This salve isn’t curse specific. I could give you a better estimate if we knew the curse, but, well, there you have it.”

He lifted his head up off the pillow and turned back towards her.

“Granger, do shut up. I'm in enough discomfort without you’re nervous prattling adding to it.”

She flushed crimson, and muttered an apology.

She scooped up more salve and again began to rub it in.

The burned bits of cloth flaked away as the skin began to heal. The blisters diminished, leaving only angry red skin behind. Hermione let out a relieved sigh as she saw her treatment was working.

She increased the pressure of her hand, working more salve into his flesh and realized for the first time exactly what she was doing.

She was massaging Severus Snape’s arse.

And what a fine arse it was as well. Years of storming through the castle, up and down stairs had left him with a rock hard bum. It was still angry red but she could tell it was normally pale as a ghost by looking at the unaffected skin along his crack. He had a sprinkling of fine black hairs at the base of his spine, tapering off as they reached the curve. His slim hips, and the pronounced indentation along the sides made it a very masculine-looking arse. The perfect curvature of it, softened the effect and made it rather cute.

Her hands froze as she realized she was perving over a patient. Her face bloomed scarlet again, and she cleared her throat and resumed treating a patient in dreadful discomfort.

However, Snape was no ordinary patient. This was the first time in two years that she’d had any kind of contact with him and now she had handfuls of his luscious bum. How strange.

She’d given up trying to have a conversation with him soon after she’d taken over for the retired Poppy. He would either look right through her as she greeted him in the halls, or cut her down to size if she tried to make small talk. He never shook her hand when they would return to the castle at summer’s end. He would never return the slightest holiday cheer, and he would never make eye contact.
It frustrated her no end.

She really wanted to get along with the man. He was smart, loyal and witty with the other staff, and it drove her mental that he was so utterly dismissive of her. The bastard had even gone so far as to send a student to request more headache remedy for him when his private stocks had run low, rather than enter her domain.
He must have been in incredible discomfort to have walked all the way here. Had he bothered to get to know her, he would have known she’d have come to him and spared him the walk.

The salve turned blue, and she picked up a towel and carefully wiped it away, revealing skin that was mostly pink, accept for a red section on the left side. She swapped gloves and scooped up more salve.

“Is the pain more manageable?” she asked. “I need to know, I’m not making idle conversation.”

He turned his head to the side, and she saw his large nose peek out of his lank hair.
“It is, Miss Granger. I am… most grateful.”

She blinked at his mannerly reply and then remembered she’d given him a pain potion with a sedative.

“No gratitude needed, Professor. It’s my job. I’m just glad I could help you quickly.”
She fell silent and scooped up fresh salve and began to rub it in again. She stopped when his arse twitched.

“Pain?” she asked, surprised.

“No. Cold.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a good sign. Your nerves are recovering nicely. I’ll refrain from making you jump in the future.”

“How long has it been?”

She glanced at the clock.

“Five minutes. We’re halfway there.”

She continued to work it in. Massaging her hands repeatedly over his curves and angles, avoiding his crack, since it was unaffected and entirely too alluring. She found she wanted to caress him there as well. Wanted to slide her fingers along the pale crevice and touch him in a far more personal place than she already had access too. How much would that balance the scales? Knowing that he could ignore her as he might, but she’d fingered his arse hole. She looked down and wished she’d pulled his clothing down a little more. The fabric was pooled right at the top of his thighs and she couldn’t get the slightest glimpse of anything more. She wondered what his bollocks looked like. Were they high? Low? He seemed to have a penchant for boxers, so perhaps they swung free. Did he have a large cock? A small one? It was hard to guess. He had a large nose and long hands, but seemed to have smaller feet that a man his height would.

She swiped more salve off when it turned blue again and snapped off her gloves. His right cheek was a normal healthy color, a bit pinked from the massage, and his left one had only a faint bit of damage left. She scooped up the fresh salve into her bare hands and briskly rubbed them together to heat it up, before running her hands across his naked flesh.

Gods it was soft. Severus Snape had the softest arse she’d ever encountered.
She kept her touch even more professional, in a desperate attempt to no get caught out as a molester, now that she’d soaked her knickers. There was something truly wrong with her.

It took her a moment to realize there was something wrong with Snape as well. He was still. Far too still. He was also far too tense to be sleeping.

“Are you in any pain? You shouldn’t be any longer.”

He didn’t lift his head from where it was buried in the pillow.

“No,” he replied, in a muffled voice. “How much longer.”

“Two minutes.”

It didn’t take her but a moment to figure out what was going on. He wasn't in any pain at all, but he was obviously in discomfort. Mother of Merlin, she must have given him an erection!

Gods! It wasn't just her!

She blushed furiously, wondering if it was possible for her cheeks to simply explode and get it over with.

She concentrated on her duties, trying to distance herself from her hands as they kneaded at his flesh.

Snape was lying as stiff as a board, hugging the pillow tightly to his chest. She watched his back, as it expanded and contracted with his rapid breaths. He didn’t move any other muscles at all. Not a twitch, not a wriggle, nothing.

She, on the other hand, had started to sway back and forth, rubbing her legs together slightly, trying to catch any friction that would relieve the building tension. She thanked fate that her Nursing Uniform had enough layers to hide her nipples. They were certainly doing their best to try and poke through.

She swiped her hands across his firm bum one last time and then picked up a towel and began to clean up the last of the salve. She almost squealed in delight when she saw she had smeared some of the salve into his cleft. She refolded the towel and swiped it off, only a bit too slowly for professionalism.

She almost moaned when he flexed, just the slightest bit to try and meet her stroke. He froze, but she didn’t. She cleaned him up briskly and then quickly pulled his torn robes down and covered him. She managed to restrain from giving him a pat.

“I’ll just you a moment to fix your clothing. Don’t get up too soon, there was a sedative in the potion and you might get dizzy. Lie still a while and move slowly. I will be in my office. Come see me before you leave; I’ll need to give you some follow up instructions."

He nodded his head and she bolted out from behind the curtain and straight for her office, where she launched into an inner rant against her obvious depravity and lack of professionalism. Merlin, what if that had been a student? The thought made her nauseous to the point of certainty. She didn’t get off on rubbing just anyone’s bum. Only Snape’s. She tried to take solace from the fact that she was a very narrowly focused pervert, but couldn’t.

*

Snape waited until he saw the curtain swoosh from the silent slamming of her office door before reaching down and grabbing his cock. Fuck, he hadn’t been this hard since he was a lad. No one had ever touched him in such a way. His occasional shags had all been fast work with minimum foreplay and a quick exit. Granger had the quick exit down, but Merlin, what hands!

When the pain had dissipated, he’d been left with nothing but the shame of having his arse exposed to the one person in the castle most capable of killing him with humiliation. However, as the minutes had ticked by, his mind had betrayed him. He spiraled away into a fantasy where she was doing this for pleasure and his body had reacted accordingly. When he’d felt her bare hands on his sensitized skin, he’s almost cried out. Her soft hands were everywhere on him, thrilling and titillating and teasing. He wanted her to go farther, silently begged her to explore, to wander, to touch him there. He’d never considered it an erogenous zone before, but it sure as fuck was now.

There was no time for niceties, he needed to get this over with, clean himself up, and get the hell out of here. What the hell had come over him? He’d actually lost control at the end, when he realized she was done, he’d almost thrust his arse at her and begged for more.

He tugged harshly at himself, knowing exactly what needed to be done from lonely practice. He turned his head to the side and breathed in deeply as his hands found their rhythm, and he caught the lingering traces of her scent. Not just her light perfume, but a mouth-watering musk that made his eyes flutter shut. She’d been aroused! Gods! The beautiful, flawless, untouchable Miss Granger had gotten off on rubbing his arse.

Him. Snape. The unloved bat of the dungeons.

He sucked in another breath, desperate to catch a hint more of her arousal and when he found it, he came hard, ramming his face into the pillow and praying to the Gods of Silencing Charms.

When the last pulse of pleasure faded, he opened his eyes and panicked. He scrambled up and hauled his trousers up, seeing they were thoroughly ruined. He didn’t have time to fix them with magic, he’d taken too long finding relief. Instead, he fixed the rend in his robes, and shoved his hands in his pockets grabbing onto his tattered trousers. More or less presentable, he did the only thing left to do. He fled.

*

Hermione was startled when she heard the doors to the Infirmary bang shut. She came hurrying out of her office to find him gone. She grimaced, hoping his exit wasn't because of her stupidity, and headed over to clean up. She capped the salve, Vanished the refuse, sent the towels off to be laundered, and gathered up the sheets, finding the wet smear of cum.

Her mouth dropped open slowly and she heard the blood rushing in her ears from lack of air. He’d wanked. As soon as she’d left him, he’d pleasured himself, right here in her infirmary. She let out a small moan and pulled out her wand. She doused the lights, locked the doors, slipped off her shoes and climbed into the bed Snape had left. Spreading her legs, she hiked up her skirts and began to rub herself furiously. She pulled open the drawer to the bedside table and fished around until she found a hand mirror. With a swish and twitch, she transfigured it into a basic representation of a cock and immediately slipped it inside.

As Snape was entering his private rooms, Hermione was howling in release.

*


Severus Snape was already having a bad day when he arrived late to breakfast. He considered avoiding it completely, but he despised cowardice in himself.

He’d realized he’d forgotten to clean up after himself when he returned to his rooms and found a smear of wetness on his belly. He’d been mortified and had spent a sleepless night torturing himself over ‘the incident.’ He had decided pretending nothing at all had happened was the only way to make it through the rest of his life. The little bitch could ruin him.

He headed to the head table with a purposeful stride, but had to force his eyes to sweep the room.

She wasn't there.

Thank fuck.

It was perfectly acceptable if her absence was due to cowardice. It went far towards balancing the scales.

He sat and an owl launched itself at him and landed by his plate. He snatched the letter from its beak and shooed it away.

He scanned the room with a baleful eye, before he slashed it open with his wand and read it.

Professor Snape,

I didn’t have a chance to clarify your instructions last night. There is a fifty percent chance that the curse will present itself again tonight at exactly twenty-four hours from its original casting, although it won’t be nearly as potent.

Hopefully, this will not happen, and last night’s treatment did the trick. However, you will want to come by my office and pick up the salve just in case. I will instruct you in how to treat the affected area.

If you need anything further, please don’t hesitate to ask.

Hermione Granger

He scoffed and tossed the letter onto his plate and Vanished it. There was no fucking way on this green earth he would ever go near that infirmary again…

*

Hermione was just getting ready to close down for the night, weaving her usual ward to wake her if anyone came, when Snape barged through and hit her with the door. She took one look at his pale, sweaty face and her original recrimination stopped in her throat, in favor of new ones.

“You foolish man! Why didn’t you come sooner?” She grabbed his arm and pulled it over her shoulder, while wrapping her other arm across his back. Together they stumbled to the same bed, and he flopped down with a shocking lack of grace, and a scream of pain. “I will be right back!” she cried, before tearing back to her office to grab what she needed.

When she was set, she carefully folded his robes up onto his back, revealing pajama pants with an elastic waist.

“Can you lift up? Or do you want me to cut them?”

He didn’t reply, he just lifted his hips up off the bed and she grasped the waistband and stretched it wide and inadvertently pulled the snaps apart. Well, that helped. She tugged them down quickly, keeping the fabric off his skin and bared his arse. She gasped. It was blistered from one side to the other.

“What did you try on it?” she asked, smelling at least two types in liniment.

“Every fucking thing I could think of. Please, Granger, just make it stop.”

Her eyes teared to hear him beg, and she placed her hand between his shoulders and rubbed.

“I will.”

She snapped on the gloves and scooped out more salve and quickly spread it across the blisters.

He howled into the pillow.

“I know. I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

She worked as fast as possible to get the first application everywhere.

“I won’t tell you how foolish you've been. You already figured that out. But I must ask you not to do this again. I cannot stand to see you in this much pain. Minerva told me that the student responsible has been expelled. I think he should be hung. I’m dreadfully sorry that last night’s treatment didn’t work. You should have sent me a Patronus. I would have spared you another climb through the castle. Gods, I'm prattling again. I’m sorry. I’ll shut up now.”

He let out a deep sigh, signaling it had started to work and she looked at the time. She worked carefully, so as not to break open any of the blisters. It was eleven o’clock. An hour and a half past the time the curse would have reemerged. He had to have assumed since it wasn't as bad as the night before that he could treat it himself. He had to have been awfully humiliated by what had happened the night before to have gone so long in pain and not come to her.

She was devastated and began to cry.

“What the hell are you sniveling for?” he snapped.

“You hurt yourself, rather than let me heal you. I’ve failed you. I don’t understand why you hate me so much.”

He was silent after that.

She mopped up the first application when it turned blue and reapplied more. She kept her mind focused and worked efficiently, massaging with increasing pressure as it healed, and wiping and reapplying with gentle, but impersonal efficiency. As soon as the ten minutes were up, she pulled up his pajamas, snatched down his robes, and backed away.

“Please take this jar with you when you leave. It must be done in stages, wipe it off whenever it changes color, for the full ten minutes. I will leave it here on the tray for you. If you have any questions, please ask. If something goes wrong, send me a Patronus and I will come immediately.

“I will leave you to get dressed. Good night, Professor.”

She left the curtained off area and headed to her office, not noticing the way Snape had lifted his head and was staring after her.

*

Hermione finished fixing two broken noses and one blackened eye from a fight and was sending them on their way to Minerva’s office when the chime went off. She looked up and saw Snape standing in the doorway looking at the students with distain.
She glanced at the clock and saw it was twenty minutes past nine. Ten minutes until the curse should resurface.

She had overcome her embarrassment and gone to breakfast the next day with the jar of salve he’d left behind in her pocket. He’d nodded his head to her cordially when she’d entered the hall and she’d stopped in her tracks. He hadn’t greeted her in two years. She’d walked behind the head table and placed the jar down next to his plate, before finding her seat at the other end.

She’d been startled when he finished his meal, walked over to her and placed the jar next to her plate, before leaving without a word.

She’d had no idea what to make of the exchange all day. Now she did. He was going to allow her to treat him.

“Off you go, the lot of you, and mind you go directly to the Headmistress’ office. She is already expecting you, so dawdling won’t do.”

She closed the door behind them and turned to the Professor waiting with strange patience off to the side.

“Go and make yourself comfortable, while I gather what I need,” she said quietly.
He nodded and walked behind the first curtain, closing it after him.

She went and collected her things, pushing her tray to the curtain.

“Let me know when you are ready,” she called.

She heard the clink of his belt and the creak of the bed and felt her mouth dry up. ‘Oh, not again. Do not do this, Hermione. He’s showing you respect. Control yourself for shit’s sake.’

“I'm ready.”

His deep voice made the little hairs on her body stand up and she gave herself one last lecture before she slipped inside the curtain and cast a silencing spell. If they’d timed this correctly, he would only experience the slightest pain, but it was best not to take chances.

He was lying face down on the bed, in his usual position of hugging the pillow to his chest and pressing his forehead deep into it. She checked the time and began setting up.
“Do you get a warning sensation? Or does it just strike?”

“There was a slight warning last night. And then when it started, it wasn't as bad. I didn’t think it would continue to escalate.”

“Let me know as soon as you feel the tingle, and we can start treatment right away. It’s my hope that we can avoid any serious discomfort completely.”

He gave a snort.

“Granger, lying on a table with my exposed arse in the air automatically implies a certain level of serious discomfort.”

She winced. “Very true. If it was me showing my arse to a nurse, I can’t say as I would be any more comfortable. However, no one will ever know but you and I, if that is a help. And I have seen much more embarrassing injuries.”

He turned his head back towards her and gave her an inscrutable look.“That is a bit comforting to know. Not much, but I appreciate the effort.”

She smiled back at him, feeling a spark of pride at his first bit of wit shared with her. His eyes softened and as he turned his face back towards the pillow, she thought she detected a slight blush.

She snapped on the gloves just as he sucked in a deep breath. She pulled his robes up quickly and found he had already pushed down his trousers and pants. She was already smearing salve across his taught muscles when they began to bloom a deep pink. He grunted a couple of times and relaxed onto his pillow quickly.

“Better already?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.”

She made note of the time and began his treatment.

Her gloved hands rubbed the salve in circles across the pale smooth skin and she felt him relax even more underneath her touch. With the pain already counteracted, she started with a firmer touch, slowly working up to kneading his skin and drawing out the curse.

Five minutes elapsed and she wiped away the salve when it turned blue. She scooped up more and slathered it on and he hissed and clenched his cheeks.

“Cold,” he muttered by way of explanation.

“I’m sorry. I forgot. That was stupid.” She snatched off her gloves and used the heat of her uninsulated hand to quickly warm the salve on his hyper-sensitized skin.

That was a mistake.

Whatever good intentions she’d had in her head evaporated like water on a hot skillet. She actually paused and considered putting gloves back on but panicked and decided that would draw attention to what she’d done. She smoothed both hands over each curve and drew them back with a circular pass at each hip. She heard his breath rush out and felt electrified.

She realized her mouth had fallen open and she was staring at his arse with longing. Her panting breaths were far too loud in her ears.

She cleared her throat and continued her ministrations, trying to shove her body’s reactions as far out of her mind as possible. It was futile. Her eyes stole images and horded them like treasure. The way his skin gave under her fingertips, the extra three inches of upper thigh revealed, with their silky looking black hairs that her fingers itched to touch.

She rolled her knuckles into the side of his cheeks and a pleasant-sounding grunt escaped him.

“Found a knot, did I?”

He nodded his head but didn’t speak.

Her fingers dug into the spot, rhythmically working at it until it loosened as he continued to quietly grunt and groan.

When the salve turned blue again, she grabbed up a towel and swiped it across his cheeks, again, cleaning the excess off the forbidden zone just a tad too languidly for decorum. Again, he lifted his hips just the merest fraction and a slow breath left her in an audible sigh.

She mopped at her hands quickly and scooped up more salve, rubbing her hands together briskly. She placed both hands down on him and smoothed them down his flanks and back up toward the center, her fingertips dangerously close to his cleft. He shuddered and shifted to the side and she grazed her fingers along his crack.

They both let out quiet moans.

Her chest was heaving by this point and she licked the sweat off her top lip. Again, she cleared her voice, blinking furiously to see the clock over the bed.

“Two more minutes,” she said in a shaky voice.

She risked a quick glance at him, and saw he had twisted his head back towards her, but his eyes were clenched tightly shut. He was breathing heavily through his nose and occasionally licking his lips. She wanted to lean down and swipe her tongue across them as well. She massaged him repetitively, rewarding herself with the slightest graze along his private place every twentieth stroke. He sighed and wriggled slightly under her touch, as if trying to direct where he wanted her hands.

Her legs began to shake when he began slightly thrusting himself against the bed.
The salve turned blue and she looked up at the clock as if it betrayed her. She let out a shuddering sigh and reached for a towel. She cleaned him in slow, measured strokes, folding the towel over her hand and using it as an excuse to finally run her fingers down between his cheeks deeper than she’s done so far.

He groaned softly.

She wiped her hands on the towel thoroughly, and then used her wand to clean them. Instead of taking a step back and announcing they were finished, she reached down and laid her hand against his arse cheek, letting her fingertips settle gently against his crack.

“Are we finished?” she asked, in a ragged voice.

She turned her head and watched his shoulders heave several times before he replied, “No.”

He spread his legs as far as his trousers would allow and tilted his pelvis. “Please,” he whispered.

She let out a little moan and began to gently explore the well-known territory again, allowing her desire to build back up, and dragging out the pleasure. She lifted her wand —and with a silent spell remembered from her days in Maternity Rotation—
she filled one hand with an antiseptic lubricant.

She warmed it in her hands before she drizzled it down his crack. She began to rub it into his cheeks, circling closer and closer, until the moment came when her fingers drifted down between his strong, muscular arse and into the hot crevice. They both groaned.

She slipped her finger farther down and found his tightly puckered hole and he threw his head back and hissed, “Yessss…” She began to massage it, using the same technique of gentleness with increasing pressure. With her other hand she cupped his arse and lifted, spreading it apart.

She saw his sack, dusky plums, drawn up tight, and brought her hand down to fondle them. She rolled them in her hands and he cried out and thrust himself back into her hands.

She repeated her spell and added more lubrication, liberally coating what she could reach, before turning and grabbing up another pair of gloves. She snapped them on with difficulty; her greasy hands gave her trouble. She returned to his arse and again began kneading at it before spreading it apart gently and stroking the tight sphincter muscle while he groaned and tried to hump the table and her hands at the same time.

She hesitated and whispered, “Is this okay? I can stop, if you want.”

He arched his back and looked over his shoulder at her.

“Do it,” he ordered in a rasp.

She teased his ring open with one finger, slowly massaging him in circles and he sucked in a breath and held it. She slid the finger up his arse, shocked at how much pleasure the act gave her.

“Tell me if there is pain. I don’t want to cause you pain.”

He nodded and thrust himself back on her finger. She moaned and bent over him, wrapping her arm along his other hip. When she had worked him open a little, and slid another finger in, he let out a ragged groan that made her pulse, deep within. She squeezed her thighs together and began shifting back and forth.

She began searching for that spot, that nub, that place she had studied about in school, and read about in the erotic fiction she ate for a snack when no one was looking. Working her fingers in and out of his tight hole she twisted them, trying to feel his prostate. She couldn’t. She suspected her fingers were too short or the angle she was at was wrong. She concentrated on pleasuring his arsehole, gently fucking him with her fingers.

She straightened up and rolled him slightly on his side.

“Touch yourself,” she said. “I want to watch this time.”

He moaned helplessly and his long, slim hand reached down and pulled up the front of his robe, revealing his sex. It was perfect. Long, without being intimidating, and thick, with ropey veins lacing along the sides. When his pale hand wrapped around its dark red length, she moaned.

“Ohhh… It’s beautiful…” she sighed.

“More, Granger. More…”

She blinked and realized she had stopped her attentions on his arse. She spread his cheeks apart with one hand and pulled her fingers out, before adding another and sliding three inside.

He howled.

“Too much?” she asked with concern.

“Nooo… Oh, gods. Fuck me. Please, fuck me.”

She worked his ass, pumping her fingers in and out of him.

“I want to fuck you, Severus. I wish I could really fuck this tight little arse. You have such a beautiful arse. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never done this sort of thing. But your arse is so hot, and beautiful, and needy.”

“Oh, fuck, Granger. Keep talking. Gods… please.”

“Have you done this before? Have you always had a needy hole?”

“No. Never. No one’s… I’ve never done this before either.”

“Good. Then this is a first for both of us. That means this is my arse. My greedy little hole to fill.”

“Yesss…”

“This is a pleasure you can only get from me.”

“Ohhhh...”

“That is what I want. That is what I demand.”

“Oh gods, yesss…”

“Pleasure yourself. Why aren’t you playing with yourself?”

“I’ll come. I'm so close to the edge. I don’t want it to end.”

She purred with pleasure.

“All good things must come to a conclusion, Severus. I want to see you in ecstasy. For two years I’ve been wanting to please you. Now I want to watch as you please yourself.”

“I’ll… I’ll disappoint you. I’m too…”

She stopped her hand, and he mewled and wriggled against it. She’d had a growing suspicion and decided to take a chance.

“You cannot disappoint me, Severus. You’ve already pleased me far more than you could understand. Now take that thick cock in hand and work it for me. Do as I say, or I will stop pleasuring your arse.”

“Oh… fuck. Yessss.”

Just as she suspected, Severus Snape was a natural submissive. Never in her wildest dreams would she have suspected as much. He grasped his beautiful cock in his hand and began to roughly tug it, and she resumed working her fingers in and out of his arse. His hole was much more relaxed and accepting of her intrusion. She again twisted her fingers around, trying to find his prostate.

She disliked the way he abused his own cock. It didn’t look pleasurable in the least. She reached down with her other hand and pulled his away. She brought it up to her mouth and licked the length of it until it was thoroughly wet. Then she brought it down to his twitching and bobbing member and wrapped it around.

“Gently. I don’t like to see pain.”

He let out a long groan and began to slowly work his now slick cock, matching the rhythm of her fingers pumping in his arse.

She reached over and brushed aside the hair that had been hiding his face, and it was like unearthing treasure. Severus Snape was a beautiful man when in the throes of ecstasy. He looked up at her with fear and shame in his eyes and she crooned to him.

“Your need is beautiful. Your desire is beautiful. The way you have given yourself to me, is so very beautiful, Severus. Don’t be ashamed. Come for me.”

His face crumpled and he lifted a hand toward her face, but stopped, she leaned over him and stretched her neck, tilting her head to the side. He slid his hand along her cheek and she turned her head and kissed his palm, grabbing it by the wrist and sucking two of his fingers into her mouth.

He opened his mouth and started to say something but his eyes flew open and then slammed closed. His hips bucked and his muscles tightened around her fingers. She tried to fuck him through his orgasm, but the glove came off her hand on the backstroke. She caressed his arse cheeks with one hand instead, while stroking his beautiful face with the other.

He shouted his release, before devolving into disjointed words. “So good… Granger don’t… Fuck. Please don’t ruin this… ah fuck… Beautifullllll…"

She watched him spurt gobbets of cum all over his hand and the bed.

She stroked his arse through the last of his shudders, and then shifted back and looked down upon his entire length. He was sprawled on the bed, nearly on his stomach with her glove hanging out of his arsehole, his trousers around his knees, and his robes rucked up around his waist.

“You look so beautifully debauched,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

She pulled the glove away and leaned down and kissed his hip, marveling at how soft the skin was, and then wiped him clean with a fresh towel. She wiped his hand and his limp cock, before tugging his robes down and covering him. She leaned up and kissed him on the temple, nudging him with her nose until he turned his head so she could kiss his lips.

“Tell me how I could ruin this. I don’t want it ruined.”

He pulled in on himself and she felt a stab of pain as she watched the suspicion and fear cloud his face.

“You could ruin me. You could tell people what you’ve done, and my reputation would be destroyed.”

She wrapped her arm around his chest and pressed her face against his ear.

“I would never do that. Even if you were to hurt me—and yours is not the only reputation that would be destroyed, Severus—I would never tell. What you gave me tonight is precious to me. I will hold it close to my heart forever. What happened in this bed will stay locked behind these curtains. It need not ever be repeated, if you so desire. But it can be, if you wish that as well. I don’t want you to fear this following you around the castle. A man cannot function with such things hanging over his head.”

She kissed him on the cheek and then left, slipping out from behind the curtain and leaving him some privacy with which to pull himself together.
She waited until she heard the infirmary doors close quietly, before leaving her office, tidying up quickly, and then slipping off to find her own release in bed.
When she’d found her empty pleasure, she drifted off, thinking about where to go to find information on submissives, and how to go about being a dominant, when she wasn’t sure she was one.