Naughty Snippets

Snippet #2 (HG/SS)Non-con
Don't Follow Him into the Dark


Hermione eased her way down the dark, slippery stone staircase. The walls were damp and the air musty. A few torches spluttered, barely shedding enough light to see by. The witch pushed a number of cobwebs out of the way as she cautiously continued downward into the depths of the unknown.

What was this place, and where was Professor Snape going? She had to know. The wizard had left his office, walked several paces, turned into a niche and pressed several stones on the wall. It slid back and the wizard silently stepped through into the darkness.

Disillusioned, Hermione slipped in behind him before the wall closed and followed as quietly as she could. But he was gone, having descended the stairs swiftly. Still, she followed.

The Professor was a mystery and had become colder and more distant than ever since he was restored to Hogwarts after the Headmaster returned from beyond the grave via a Horcrux. It was all part of a plan, a plan that went wrong and the Professor was nearly executed. Only Albus’ timely appearance saved him from a Ministry-approved application of the Killing curse.

Hermione had played a part in his rescue, being the first to see the Headmaster as he walked across the grounds of Hogwarts and telling him Snape was about to be killed. Both she and Albus apparated to the Ministry just in the nick of time.

Snape had never thanked her. Never once said he appreciated what she’d done for him. He could’ve said something…anything. She would have been grateful if he had just said anything.

Because Hermione was in love with the dark wizard. She was only eighteen and knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of getting his interest. She was a know-it-all and a Gryffindor, two things Professor Snape loathed rolled into one.

So Hermione quietly stalked him, using her Head Girl status to supersede the rules, disillusioning herself and hiding in the dungeons, hoping for a glimpse of him outside of the classroom setting. What she hoped for wasn’t clear, but she was compelled to do this, drawn to the snarky wizard like a living magnet.

Suddenly the stairs stopped and darkness yawned before the Gryffindor witch. She didn’t dare draw her wand for fear of letting the Professor know she had followed.

Suddenly she was grabbed roughly, a hand covering her mouth and another reaching into her pocket and pulling out her wand. The hand clasped over her mouth smelled lightly of sandalwood and spice. She struggled desperately as she was dragged through the darkness, kicking and trying to bite.

“Stop it or I’ll twist your silly head off your shoulders,” a familiar voice hissed…full of malice.

Hermione ceased to struggle. Professor Snape had her.

The wizard stopped dragging her, but kept a tight grip on her, one arm wrapped around the witch’s throat as he drew his wand.

“Flamus,” he hissed.

Torches flared up and they were in a circular room, the only things in it a pole with ropes around it and a tall wooden structure with hinges and a small hole in it about waist height.

Snape spun her about, his eyes hard.

”I am tired of you following me, witch,” he snarled at her, “I know why you are doing it. Infatuation. You imagine yourself in love with me.”

Hermione stared up at him.

”Despite what you think, I am not a good wizard Miss Granger. I haven’t been for decades. I only served the Greater Good to bring about Voldemort’s demise by any means necessary. I lived for his death. Now he is gone and I am left with my hatred,” the wizard said, his face contorting as he looked at her.

“Who do you hate, Professor?” Hermione ventured.

The Professor shook her roughly.

”I didn’t tell you to speak!” he snarled, spittle flying out of his mouth, “Be quiet and you will get through this. But first an oath that you won’t tell…”

Hermione looked at him, afraid to ask what she would tell? That she followed him here? No she wouldn’t do that…it would be too embarrassing.

“Give me an oath that you will not tell, Miss Granger!” Snape demanded, shaking her roughly again, “Or I swear no one will ever find your body!”

Hermione stared at the wizard and saw murder in those black eyes. He wasn’t bluffing.

”I…I swear I won’t tell,” she whispered, frightened nearly to death. Magic swirled about them both.

The madness left the wizard’s eyes, though they remained hard as they swept over her.

”You think I owe you for Albus’ rescue. But you didn’t save me…you condemned me to continued existence. I wanted to die,” the wizard breathed, “I owe you, but not the gratuitous way you envision, believe me.”

The wizard pulled her over to the tall wooden structure. Holding on to Hermione by one arm, he opened a latch and raised the upper half of it, the hole splitting in half. Roughly he forced Hermione’s head through the opening and let the hole close over her neck, trapping her in a bent position, latching the pillory back.

”Yes, I owe you, witch,” the wizard breathed, pulling at her robes roughly.

Hermione didn’t say anything. She was afraid to. The Professor seemed so full of hatred. She did whimper as she felt her robes removed, then her blouse, then her bra, then her skirt, then her knickers, then her trainers and socks. She was naked.

”Sniffing around me like a little bitch in heat,” Snape muttered as he opened the lower half of his robes, then his belt, then his fly. He reached inside and pulled out his cock. It was huge, hard and dripping.

Hermione stood trapped in the pillory, hearing noises behind her, unable to see anything but the barren room around her.

”Here’s what you want!” the wizard snarled, pressing the swollen head of his cock against Hermione's core, “Here is your reward for saving me, witch!”

[ ANIMATED IMAGE ]

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