Daydreaming

WARNINGS:
This chapter contains fantasy rape. It is a role playing scenario. It is supposed to be a head trip for both of them, the hunter being hunted and captured. Snape is a very bad man in this fantasy and Hermione is kind of a sick girl. If you have any problems with this I strongly suggest you don’t read this story.

Daydreaming 2

“You have what?” Ginny breathed at Fred and George. She was sitting in the back room of the joke shop before she was due to go into work.

Fred dropped a brightly colored twist of paper in the palm of her hand. She marveled at it before he snatched it away.

“Hey!” Ginny protested. “I’m plenty old enough to use that.”

“First,” George said as he entered the storeroom carrying a bag full of bright yellow canary feathers, “you’re our sister and that’s disgusting.”

Fred laughed as he dodged a blow from Ginny in George’s place.

“Second, those are expensive to make. Twenty Galleons.”

“Twenty Galleons!” Ginny exclaimed as she reached for her shiny black satchel. “Robbery!”

“Thank you,” Fred said as he took her money and gave her a small paper bag. “Tell everyone you shop here.”

“Like I’d tell anyone about this,” Ginny snickered. “No wonder no one’s seen Hermione in a while.”

“We thought she’d be back sooner. Maybe she thought we had a limited supply.” Fred heaved the bag into a corner of the storeroom with a heavy thump. He took a breath and wiped his hands down on his magenta work robes.

“We need to think about this,” George muttered. “It’s a product everyone wants, but doesn’t know exists.”

Fred nodded in agreement.

“Talk to Lavender Brown.” Ginny shrugged. “Sounds like her sort of thing.”

“Mum reads Witch Weekley!” Fred exclaimed.

“Trust me.” Ginny made a face at Fred as she swung her satchel over her shoulder. “I have to get to work. The goblins like you to be on time.”

“Go figure.” George smiled.


“Wait until you get home to use that,” Fred warned gesturing at her bag, where she had concealed the twist of paper.

“No!” Ginny clutched her chest in mock horror. “But I had plans for my lunch hour!”

“We haven’t observed a girl yet." Fred shrugged. “Your reaction might not be subtle.”

“You might get a promotion!” George suggested.

“Goodbye!” Ginny waved at them as she bounded from the room.

The door chimed merrily as she left the store.

“I really hope she listens to us.” Fred shook his head.

*&*&*

Hermione sat in her room, slowly fingering a light grey sparkling twist of paper. She shivered slightly.

The last time she had indulged in a daydream the results were unexpected and slightly frightening. She was terrified to talk to the twins about it for fear they would ask her more and she’d have to divulge what had actually happened.

What had really happened? She was expecting pirates maybe, or maybe an enthusiastic stable boy. Or two. Certainly not what had happened.

Against her better judgment, she lay back onto her bed and twisted open the paper.

A strong smell of pipe tobacco hit her nose. Her chest began to feel tight and she began to feel weighted down.

Hermione’s eyes flew open and she gasped.

“Finally awake, are we?” A deep voice rumbled from the other side of the room.

Hermione was lying on a bed in a large Victorian era bedroom. Leather restraints held her arms and legs. Her clothing was middle class for the time period, though her shoes were missing, but nowhere near the social standing this bedroom demanded. Her corset was tight, but didn’t bite into her.

She felt drugged.

The man standing at the foot of the bed looked like he belonged here.

Severus Snape stood erect in black trousers, a high necked white shirt, and a black on black embroidered vest. He was undoing the buttons on his sleeves.

Hermione smiled lazily at him. She felt slightly euphoric. This fantasy wasn’t one she’d indulged in since her Seventh Year. She’d nearly forgotten.

“You know,” Snape said dangerously, “you shouldn’t accept things from men you don’t know.”

Hermione kicked experimentally. It seemed she had some movement, but the restraints were probably spelled shut. Either way, her legs felt as if they were made of lead.

“I shall endeavor to keep that a habit in the future,” slurred Hermione.

Snape chuckled as he rolled his sleeves up. Hermione sighed as he ran a finger up one of her bare feet and fingered her ankle. She jumped slightly at the sensation of his touch.

“Don’t tell me a little tart like you hasn’t ever had a hand on her leg,” purred Snape as his fingers lifted her skirts to reveal a calf. He brushed it softly with his fingers. Hermione relaxed slightly and sighed. Whatever made up potion she was exposed to, it certainly made her feel comfortable.

“It’s never been yours,” Hermione lazily retorted. Snape chuckled.

“Will you be so bold if I go further?” Snape brushed the back of her knee. Hermione squirmed. “You can scream all you want. No one will hear you.”

Hermione tried not to laugh. She was supposed to be from another time period and feeling totally violated. She moved her leg and murmured. She hoped he’d be satisfied and not beat her as thoroughly as last time.

“Perhaps not so much next time.” Hermione heard him mutter. Good. He just thought she was drugged rather than unresponsive out of stubbornness. He brushed the back of her thigh with his hand. Her skirts rustled loudly. She doubted she could see what he was doing, even if she were trying to watch.

“Well, this is interesting,” Snape purred as his fingers crept upwards. “One would almost think you could enjoy this.”

Hermione heavily shifted her body and her knees fell apart. She felt his hand at the top of her bloomers, tugging them down. They stay wrapped around her ankles because of her restraints.

Snape slapped her face lightly. She feigned sleep.

“If you hurt me, bitch, I’ll make you pay,” rumbled Snape quietly.

Hurt him? What on earth could she do to hurt him?

Cool air from the room caressed her legs as he lifted her skirts to her waist. He stroked her cunt gently. She wanted to clap her legs shut, but then he’d know she was awake. She still felt euphoric, but not to the point of passing out.

His fingers opened her and her breath came quickly as he tasted her. She squirmed and he tried to slide a finger in her. He seemed surprised she was ready for him.

“You like this?” Snape said incredulously. He stroked in and out of her. She shifted her hips for him. “You like this, you little whore?”

Snape slid two fingers inside her and stroked as his tongue teased her. She groaned and squirmed slightly. A hand came up and pressed down on her hips, holding her still.

Hermione moaned and opened her eyes.

He looked furious.

He abruptly rose to his knees and ripped his trousers open, buttons popping off and falling on the hardwood floor. He fell upon her and thrusted forward.

Hermione screamed.

“That’s more like it.” Snape smiled briefly before sinking his teeth into her shoulder.

Hermione grasped his shoulders with the small bit of movement the restraints allowed her.

“Oh, God! Yes!” Hermione cried out.

Snape froze. She felt herself throbbing around him. His head lifted from her shoulder slowly and the strands of hair that had come unbound from the dark ribbon tied neatly at the base of his neck.

His eyes searched her face and she felt his breath hot against her cheek, smelling strongly of whisky. He moved experimentally. She moved back. He thrusted roughly. She clamped her knees to his sides and groaned. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and held her down as he bucked wildly. He even let her buck back for a few moments before he stopped again. He examined her face.

“You’re not the only one that gets what they want,” Hermione hissed at him.

He leapt off her. He tried to stuff himself back in his trousers, but he had popped off buttons and had to hold them closed. He ran a hand through his raven hair, pulling even more of it loose. “How long have you known?”

“Weeks.” Hermione tried not to smile as she played along. Goodness she had a lot of her time in college to think up something like this. The Historical Criminology class she had taken for fun had taken a firm hold on her fantasies.

“Who knows you’re here?”

“No one.”

“You expect me to believe that?” He spat out incredulously.

“I don’t expect you to believe anything.” Hermione was still slurring from the potion. It hadn’t completely worn off.

“Why are you here?” Snape asked slowly.

“Lydia Cromwell didn’t go back to work after last week. I assumed you kept her.”

“What makes you think I didn’t kill her?”

“You’re not that sloppy.”

He looked insulted. “I’m not.” After a moments hesitation he added: “Her family had her relocated to Essex.”

“They said they didn’t know anything.”

“They lied.”

He looked at her. Her skirts were still around her waist. Her shoulder was blooming crimson and purple.

“You want me to keep you,” Snape said slowly as if he were trying to understand.

“Not initially. I expected to see you again first.”

“I never go to the same place twice,” Snape said shaking his head.

“You’ll be at the Lion’s Head in the west end next Thursday,” Hermione chuckled.

He stared at her, stunned.

“How do you know who I am?”

“I work for Inspector Eddings,” Hermione said. “I question your ladies.”

“My ladies?”

“Well, you do brand them like chattel. We assumed you were claiming them.”

“Actually it was more like marking them off.” He was letting his trousers go again. Hermione wet her lips as he started undoing the buttons on his vest. “You want to be marked?”

“If you continue, a small mark would be but a small penance.”

He kicked off his trousers and shook his head. “Do you even know what you’re getting into?”

She opened her legs wide for him. “Do you?”

Snape threw his vest to the side and drew a wand out of his sleeve. He waved it at her and all her clothing disappeared. He drew breath as she watched his eyes race over her. “You know magic. You didn’t scream.”

“Yes,” Hermione said, squirming at the rush of cool air from the room. He waved the wand at himself and his shirt disappeared. His penis bobbed erect in front of him as he leapt on top of her. To her surprise, he just kissed her roughly before slithering down the length of her body. She gasped as he stuffed two fingers into her and began stroking.

“I believe I was asking you if you liked this,” Snape said, his tone dangerous.

“I do,” Hermione breathed, her legs kicking slightly.

“We’ll have to fix that,” Snape said. Hermione felt his lips press against her thigh for an instant before she felt his jaw widen and his teeth bit down hard. She screamed and tried to pull away from him. He pushed her hips into the bed with his forearm and held his weight on it. The hand inside her maneuvered slightly and she felt his thumb press firmly on her clit. “Remember, you wanted this.”

“Do the other side.” Hermione panted, her hands balled into tight fists. Handfuls of bed sheets kept her nails from biting into her palms.

“Should I?” He stopped holding her down and pinched her labia sharply.

She thrusted against his hand. “Please.”

She felt hot tears slide down her cheeks as he obliged her. She looked down to see the damage he had left on the first leg he bit. Indentations of his teeth marred her light skin. The area seemed flushed and swollen. She could have sworn she had felt blood on her thighs, but skin was difficult to break.

He rose above her quickly and slapped her cheek sharply. “Tell me everything you know.”

“You pick out girls depending on the sign of the moon, the astrological sign in favor, and the color they are wearing.”

“You think the Lion’s Head next Thursday?”

“I was going to wear blue and green.”

He took a fistful of her curly hair into his fist. Her head snapped back and it was harder for her to breathe. He ground himself into her bruising, tender skin without entering her. “You think you’re mine, do you?”

“I know I am.” her brown eyes opened in determined fury. She squeezed her legs against his thighs. His lips crashed down on hers. She tasted blood. He roughly kissed down the side of her face and neck, stopping at the collarbone to tear at the soft flesh with his teeth. She felt the head of his cock rub against her without entering her. She kept trying to maneuver him in, but he pulled back from her. She made an impatient noise. He pulled back and punched her in the face.

She gasped in shock and he pinched her face painfully where Snape had hit her. “You’ll do what I want, when I want, bitch.” Tears of wounded pride spilled down her cheeks. He hadn’t hit her very hard. There wouldn’t be a mark.

He moved off of her and stood at the foot of the bed. He waved the wand that had been sitting on his pile of clothing and a strap wound itself around her bare waist. The frame she was strapped to rose in the air. Hermione looked around, startled. This wasn’t in her original fantasy.

She slowly turned in the air and found herself suspended above the bed face down. The frame didn’t lower her. The wide strap around her waist allowed her to be suspended reasonably comfortably. She felt Snape slip under the frame behind her. She opened her legs for him.

“Good girl,” Snape murmured as he entered her. He whispered an incantation and the skin between her legs began to prickle with heat. Something felt like it was buzzing through her. He reached up and grabbed some of her hair with one hand as he dug his fingers into her waist with the other, keeping her from swinging too wildly. He swung her lightly and met her midair with a loud slap of bodies meeting.

“Please-,” Hermione blurted out. She bit her tongue, afraid if she displeased him he would stop again.

“Please, what?” Snape

“Please don’t stop.” She tried to look at him over her shoulder. He smirked at her.

Snape let go of her hair and firmly gripped her hips. “Wouldn’t dream of it, when you ask so nicely.” A wide strap snaked across the top of the heavy frame, setting across her forehead so her neck wouldn’t be strained.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, sighing as she felt him thrusting and grinding behind her. Combined with the buzzing, she didn’t last long. She screamed out a climax, but to her surprise, the daydream didn’t end.

Snape pulled out of her as the restraints let her go. She fell to the bed and he roughly turned her over.

Hermione groaned and tried to straighten out stiff limbs, but Snape grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the bed. His lips touched hers as he entered her. His tongue swirled in her mouth to the rhythm of her hips. When she stopped struggling he let her go. Her hands fell onto his hips, pulling him into her. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.

He pulled his face from her and nestled his mouth near her ear. Every so often he would bite the lobe. She dug her fingernails into his back as she approached another climax.

He arched his back a few moments after she had her pleasure. He collapsed on her. Still, the daydream didn’t end.

Hermione enjoyed having him near her for a few moments. She breathed in his scent. Then a small knock came on the door. She wondered if Ron would walk in and be scandalized. The last time there had been an exhibition.

A muffled voice came through the door. “Papa! Marcus took my doll and threw it in the lake on his fishing pole! He says he’s fishing for sharks! Don’t let him feed Marissa to sharks, papa!”

Hermione froze. Snape looked at her face and chuckled. “This week sharks, next week dragons. A hero’s work is never done.”

Hermione smiled weakly. Snape rose from the bed and started to clothe himself.

“I’m coming,” he yelled toward the door. He looked after Hermione. “I swear he takes after you.”

“Me?” Hermione found herself spluttering.

“Sharks.” He sniffed haughtily. “Indeed.”

Hermione felt herself spinning out of the daydream. She opened her eyes and saw the familiar water stain on the ceiling above her bed. She tried to catch her breath. She stared at the third wrapper remaining on her bedside table. She frowned.

What had Fred and George made?