The Spoken Word

Disclaimer – Anything you recognise is the property of JK Rowling. (Unfortunately)

Snape couldn’t help but enjoy the torment he was putting the young witch through. She stood in front of his desk with only her modest cotton underclothes to cover her.
“So my voice excites you does it?”
“Yes, sir” she was visibly trembling now after admitting to the effect he had on her.
“Now that is an interesting nugget of information.” he stood up and walked slowly over to her. “Tell me, if my voice does this to you, what would happen if I were to touch you?” looking down into her face he carefully hooked his little finger under one bra strap and eased it off her shoulder. She stood there in nervous silence as he nonchalantly ran his finger along the exposed skin of her shoulder.
“I’m waiting for my answer” he drawled, his face inching closer to her own.
“I...I don’t know sir” she mumbled, unsure of the answer that was expected of her.
“Really? I think you are lying to me?” he circled round behind her. “Keep facing my desk, do not turn round” he ordered as she craned her neck, trying to see what he was doing. He knew full well that this would only serve to make her more nervous.
Stepping back he took a moment to appreciate the view from a different angle. His eyes followed the gentle curve of her spine and lingered on the soft, fleshy buttocks partly covered by her panties. Moving closer so she could feel his warm breath on her neck he whispered huskily “I think you know what effect my touch would have.” he paused briefly “I think that other parts of your delicious body would respond just as well as the parts that I have already seen. Am I right?”
She whispered “Yes, sir” her voice barely audible as he placed his hands on her shoulder blades. Carefully he unhooked her bra strap and then stepped away from her. Resisting the temptation to remove the annoying thing himself he walked back to behind his desk and again took his seat.
“Take it off” he rasped, his voice thick with desire and his arousal visible beneath his robes.

Slowly she peeled off the item and tried not to meet his gaze, the intensity of his stare was almost burning her skin.
“Are you feeling uncomfortable?” he said, looking at her exposed breasts with heavy lidded eyes.
“Yes, sir” she replied automatically.
“Yet you still continue. Why is that?” his eyes snapped upwards to meet hers, he needed to see if she would answer this question truthfully.
“Because…” she paused, trying to find the right words as he looked at her expectantly “I’m frightened of you.” He could tell she was telling the truth, but there was something more.
“And?” he questioned further.
“I wanted to please you, sir.”
Those were the words he had been waiting for and he smiled slightly. “Come here.”
Cautiously she approached where he sat; he remained in his chair watching her intently until she was between him and the desk. He eased himself out of the large, leather chair and stood close to her, his face merely an inch away from her own. She could smell the subtle traces of whisky on his breath when he spoke.
“You have proved to me this evening that you can follow my instruction, from now on I expect you to do the same in lessons. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.” she answered honestly, looking deep into his dark eyes.
“There is just one more thing, an added incentive for pleasing me, a reward if you like.”