The Tenth Rule

Bethany’s heart raced, palpitating wildly in her chest as she felt Professors Snape’s hands on her knees, firmly pushing her legs further apart, as he continued to stare at her with such intense heated deliberation. Frightened yet so excited she was trembling, she found herself speechless, dumbfounded at what was being done to her. Was this really happening, and with Professor Snape of all people? Her trust in this man was absolute and though she was scared, it was of the unknown, not from whatever he wanted from her. As he pushed her legs steadily further apart his fingers digging into the soft flesh just above her knees, she could feel the cold chill of the room enter her hot moist centre and she shivered. Professor Snape took one pace forward closer to her and she felt his robes brush the soft inside of her knees as he stood between her open legs, the chill suddenly gone, replaced by the heat of his nearness.



His presence was overbearing and irresistible, this intimate closeness was something she had never experienced before with anyone. It was unlike anything she had imagined. She continued to look up at him when she felt his hands slowly release her knees.



“Lie back on the desk, Miss Beddows,” he instructed.



This was a fantasy that had smouldered within Bethany from the day she had become attracted to Professor Snape. When that fantasy had become a partial reality and she had touched herself on his command in the classroom, she had ever since suffered emotional and physical anguish from that shameful act and the total eroticism of it. Despite such conflicting feelings, it had remained a fantasy greatly intensified having been peppered with realism, and had constantly weighed down on her. Now it was happening again as she had secretly hoped it would, and once more in a most unusual manner. But this was something Bethany felt she could cope with. Despite the fact she was completely naked before him she felt she could deal with this. Having experienced something similar before and had fantasized about doing it again, she was being given another opportunity, and she wondered with hope, if it had been something he had often thought about and had been patiently waiting for another chance to have her do it again? That thought increased her excitement; along with Professor Snape’s inimitable detached manner. The physical sensations created from this strange and dark seduction was beyond anything she could have ever imagined.



Professor Snape stepped back a pace to enable Bethany to swing round and lay down on the big wide desk. The stark chill of the smooth polished wood caused her to catch her breath as she lay upon the desk, and it was several seconds before her skin became accustomed to the temperature. The candlelight illuminated the whole length of her body, and she was conscious of her essay just beside her head. Professor Snape stood beside the desk looking down at her, and she watched as he looked down his haughty nose, fully observing her nakedness for the first time, his glittering black eyes surveying her form almost analytically. She felt as though she were nothing more than a specimen he was considering before dissecting for one of his potions, such was his icy formality. Whilst she was relieved he hadn’t leered and gloated at her nakedness, this almost clinical detachment seemed eerily sinister, it creeped her out, yet bizarrely it aroused her also.



Professor Snape kept his emotions and needs tightly bound. When she had stripped off her clothes he had seen her nubile shapely form but had refused to make his observations of her too obvious, taking as much erotic delight in tormenting himself as much as tormenting the girl, staring at her wide eyes, drinking in her fear and her excitement as he commanded her to lie back on his desk. It was then he looked at her and was more than satisfied with what he saw.



Her body possessed youthful curves and sweeps that were both graceful and sensual, highlighted by light and shadow from the meagre candle flame. Her stomach was smooth and flat, the skin taut and tight as a drum, the youthful protuberance of hipbones just matured and thighs shapely and tapering to silky calves and dainty feet. Her skin, porcelain smooth and pale glowed in the flickering candlelight, her breasts full, heavy and voluptuous, the virginal pink aureoles large, with nipples elongated and hard, both from the cold and her arousal, her femininity hidden by the small V of auburn pubic hair. Professor Snape looked upon her without emotion yet inside he ached from his many weeks of self-denial and the fierce sexual hunger that raged in him at the sight of her. This girl was more than ready for sexual activity; her body fully developed, with powerful hormones fuelling desires and needs aching to be satisfied it was little wonder she displayed such sexual provocation. It would have only been a question of time before one of those witless boys suddenly plucked up the courage to test her sexual potential, but they were too late. She was his possession now, to do with as he pleased for the duration of the time she was at Hogwarts.



“How many boys at Hogwarts have you permitted to see you this way?” He asked knowing full well her answer.



“None!” she replied as though hurt.



“And yet you parade yourself before them to gain attention you do not wish?”



“I don’t…or if I did, then I do not now. I’m not interested in the boys here anymore. It’s…it’s you I …I think of. I’ve told you before. ”



Bethany tried to fight her nervousness, but it was impossible under these most peculiar circumstances. Lying naked on Professor Snape’s desk, in his office and being questioned by him as if it was some verbal exam was the most peculiar situation she had ever found herself in. What on earth was he doing to her? Why was he doing this to her?



She lay there silently begging him to touch her. For all that she was scared and nervous she was so deeply aroused. Her whole body was electric, yearning for his touch.



“Draw your knees up to your chest and then open your legs. Hold them open…wide,” he ordered.



Bethany’s face flamed with embarrassment. Why was he making her do such embarrassing things?



“Do it now, Miss Beddows,” he commanded glaring down at her, tendrils of his black hair falling forwards, his obsidian eyes fixed upon her.



Hesitantly she raised her knees, grasping them in her hands and slowly and with extreme chagrin she opened her legs, slowly, timidly. This exposure was so embarrassing.



“Wider, Miss Beddows,” he said as he turned so that he could look upon her.



Bethany closed her eyes as she let her bent legs open to their most comfortable extremity. She could feel the chill air of the dungeon once again on her hot core and knew that he would see her wet and slick from her arousal of his presence and his sexual humiliation of her.



Professor Snape looked down at her and did not speak. He could not; his power of speech temporarily deserted him as he looked upon the girl on his desk opening herself up to him on his order, without force. How many times had he thought of this scenario and waited with immense patience to have it happen? He could not believe the ease and her willingness. Whoever would have thought that this young girl would find her nasty old malicious and mean potions master so …tempting, that she was eager to do this for him? His nostrils flared as the scent of her arousal overcame the cheap scent she had sprayed herself with. In fact it had paled to insignificance as now she lay before him, the warmth of her flesh spiced with the scent of fear rose to greet his aquiline nostrils. He saw that each inner thigh was slightly smeared with her smooth and slippery essence, her transparent feminine oil seeping from her. His nostrils flared delicately, discretely breathing in her nectar and finally he found his voice.



“Now…show yourself to me Miss Beddows. Release your knees and pull yourself open. I wish to see how fully aroused you are.”



Bethany was breathing deeply and heavily. Her womb and abdomen seemed to spasm and contract in desperate need for him. His voice, his instructions the whole depraved manner in which he was using her was a powerful aphrodisiac and felt her fears, nervousness and humiliation melt in the fiery intensity of her feelings.



Her hesitation was momentary. It didn’t matter now, decorum and modesty be damned, she was too aroused to worry about any lady-like etiquette. Releasing her knees she ran her hands down the inside of her open thighs, finding them slippery as she approached her centre, feeling the heat increase the closer she got until her fingers finding her partially open nest, already damp, she gently took hold of either side and pulled herself open, exposing her shiny pink inner sheath, glistening, wet and swollen, to his view.



She opened her eyes to look at him and groaned from sensations that racked through her body at the absolute erotic situation she was in. He was looking at her, so sexually exposed, from his lofty height, his noble featured face immobile.



Professor Snape then returned his black-eyed stare to her, his face harsh.



“Touch yourself, Miss Beddows. Masturbate. “



Only a moments faltering, and then, as she looked upon Professor Snape she began to rub herself, groaning at the relief of being touched, though she would have much rather it were he that was touching her, than having him standing there watching her.



Professor Snape was more than pleased with her response. Having finally eradicated her shyness for now, it seemed her confidence was returning as she stared at him with sultry, heavy lidded eyes, licking her full lips as she now made an all out show to make her self-abuse as erotic and sensual as possible. Professor Snape watched on as her fingers wet and shining rubbed and rotated that most sensitive part of her, her hips moving and gyrating in a slow and sexually inviting manner, her heavy laboured breathing and groans of pleasure fed the desire in him so that finally, he let his hands slide slowly down her inner thighs.



Bethany jumped the moment he touched her, her hand froze, a reaction born from surprise that he was finally touching her than from any objection.



“ Do not stop, Miss Beddows. Continue,” he ordered waspishly, angry that she had stopped.



She watched and felt her pleasures intensify as his broad hands slowly slid up to her inner thighs, her skin twitching and extremely sensitive to his touch. The cloth of his jacket and the buttons at his cuffs rubbed her skin in an added caress following that of his hands and then, suddenly, she felt his strong and talented fingers holding her open as she had done a moment ago, so that he could watch her touching herself. Bethany’s fingers hesitated for a moment when suddenly he released her and his fingers rubbed over hers and to her most erotic delight she had Professor Snape’s fingers of both hands rub and delve in a most possessive yet sensitive manner her receptive flesh. It felt wonderful and beyond anything she could have possibly fantasised and it drove her into a heated ecstasy. It felt strange to feel fingers there other than her own, and yet the sensation was so great she groaned loudly in eagerness at his touch.



Professor Snape felt and observed her heat and slick wetness, the fleshy pulpy sheath and the hardened clitoris already fully extended exposed from its hood. His fingers spread her plentiful lubrication generously, all around her femininity, her pubic hair, even covering her inner thighs and up across her lower abdomen, lavishly coating as much of her as possible from the copious supply of her filmy wetness.



Bethany had trouble with her breathing, panting heavily, the sensations coursing through her she knew she would climax very soon from this dominant handling by her professor. His touch was firm and authoritative, confidant and assured, knowing where and when to place the right pressure, massaging and rubbing in a way that was beyond anything Bethany could ever imagine. Constantly his fingers crossed hers as he continued to feel and rub her thoroughly with all his fingers, spreading her moisture touching her in a most thoroughly degrading manner that sent her almost to oblivion. She felt him slip two of his fingers into her, just a little, stretching and pushing at that barrier. She raised her hips eager and desperate for him to push his fingers into her, she wanted him inside her, to satisfy the hunger that craved penetration by him.



Suddenly he removed his hands and before she had time to protest, he grasped her legs to pull her closer to him at the end of the table where once again he resumed his debasing examination of her. Being treated in such a forceful manner, his cold and austere expression and the fixed intense glare from his eyes was more than she could endure. His control of her and the way he handled her was too much to bear. She could watch no longer and let her head lay back on the desk. The sensations were enough without watching him and what he was doing to her. If she had thought his office chilly earlier, she now felt on fire and was even conscious of droplets of perspiration begin to form on her skin.



“Keep your eyes open Miss Beddows and watch what I am doing to you.” His voice was strict.



Professor Snape was also labouring with his breathing as he looked down upon the young girl writhing in ecstasy upon his desk as his fingers caressed and rubbed the swollen and very slippery flesh between her thighs. He dipped his index and forefinger inside her and felt her muscles clamp tightly about them, sucking at them, urging them deeper inside her. His restraint was costing him dearly, his skin was becoming damp beneath his clothes, the heat of his body caught within the unyielding confines of his black suit, the heavy thickness of his trousers and tightly buttoned jacket, the high collared shirt and his teachers robes heavy across his shoulders and back, he felt trapped and restricted. His member, big, thick and aching confined and painful, weeping its anticipation, sticky against his skin, an increasing patch dampening his shorts, and yet despite all this discomfort he mastered himself determined to prolong and endure this erotic torment for as long as possible…testing his strength of self-discipline.



He suddenly grasped her knees, his fingers wet and slippery from her, and saw her suddenly look at him questioningly.



“ Hold your knees up to your chest, open your legs as wide as you can.”



Bethany didn’t argue and did as she was ordered. She didn’t want this pleasure to end and was more than happy to cooperate, wondering what other sensations he was going to give her.



Suddenly she felt both his hands grasp her buttocks strongly, pulling them apart. She writhed, twisting, quickly letting go of her legs.



“No! Professor Snape, no !” She protested.



Professor Snape looked up to her, his face flushed in a manner she had never seen before, his eyes frighteningly fierce.



“Do as you are told Miss Beddows.” His voice and expression pure venom.



“Not...not there Professor Snape…” she pleaded. She had never associated that part of herself as being erotic, or capable of any sexual sensation. It was just an embarrassing, functional, unpleasant part of her that she chose to forget its very existence. To have him feeling her there appalled her, even in the height of her arousal.



“I will touch you wherever I choose and you will permit it!” He snapped crossly.



Bethany bit her bottom lip and turned her head away as she suddenly felt his fingers slip to the tiny puckered circle of flesh. She squeezed her eyes shut. She felt a strange hollowness inside, an icy stab amidst the heat of her arousal. It snapped her back to reality, and the desk felt cold again.



“Miss Beddows I told you to watch.” He reminded, his voice stern.



She knew her excitement had flowed enough to make the channel between her buttocks as slippery and slick as her femininity, and then suddenly she felt two of his fingers rub and press with rhythmic pressure against that most shameful part.



Bethany grimaced. Her eyes briefly fluttered shut as she denied herself the vision of Snape pleasuring her so obscenely. For all the sexual confidence she had attempted to build up for this occasion, it had started to disintegrate, slowly but surely.



She had entered the room as a siren, brimming with control and seductive prowess – at least, she thought she had. Bethany had a sharp awakening – she was the inexperienced one here, she was the one who did not know what she was doing. She was at the merciless hands of Severus Snape, and Bethany had absolutely no idea of what he was capable of, and it was quite a lot it would seem - to Bethany’s utter chagrin, it was mere moments before she began to feel pleasure, deep sensual pleasure at this relentless rhythmic pressure and rubbing, it seemed to connect directly to her clitoris, and womb and within seconds she was gasping and writhing once more, amazed that this part of her could give her such intense feelings. A few seconds ago she had been mortified with shame at his touching her there, now she wanted nothing more than to have him enter her there.



Professor Snape, sneered within at her response to his touching her. All women he found were the same, to start. It always took a little time for them to become accustomed to being touched there. Even longer to get used to being fucked there, some enjoyed it, many did not. Whether Miss Beddows would enjoy the experience remained to be seen though he was determined she would. It added to the excitement that the more disgusting they found the act the more he was determined they actually enjoyed it. It would be interesting to see how Bethany, this aspiring succubus, would react to his treatment of her. He suddenly grasped her legs again, pulling them down so once more they were either side of him.



Bethany felt the rough material of his heavy robes brushing the soft skin against the inside of her shins and knees, whilst the hard edge of the desk bit into the back of her legs. His hands massaged slowly and leisurely her abdomen, exerting pressure that intensified the want where she ached the most inside for him. She gasped and cried out, never experiencing pleasure to this degree before, and watched with fascination as those skilled hands slowly travelled up across her ribs to then grasp her breasts in a firm grip, squeezing them tightly, not quite to inflict pain but very nearly. His eyes stared at her, hot and almost challenging, even angry which she could not understand, but she was beyond reasoning or thought, just on a rack of total pleasure that seemed to build so that she lost all sense and coherence.



His hands, warm, strong and assured knew exactly how much pressure to exert so that pleasure teetered on the brink of pain. The skin of her breasts became red from his handling before he pinched her nipples causing her to cry out once more, her exclamation of pleasure echoing around the velvet darkness of the vaulted stone room, lost; the candle flickering.



His fingers slowly pinched, squeezed, rolled and tugged at the highly sensitive flesh, as though testing how much she could endure. For Bethany she wondered how much more pleasure she could stand. She rolled her head to the side and felt the paper of her essay beneath her flushed cheek as she continued to feel his fingers twist and pull at her nipples. Never had she been touched in this manner, not even by herself, and she did not realise so much ecstasy could be given.



She looked back at Professor Snape, his face dark, set, he was watching her expression all the time, studying her responses, reading them and reacting accordingly, and then she started to feel a change in his touch. His grip became increasingly harder, and she felt him dig his thumbnail into the centre of each rigid nipple. Whilst it sent initial bolts of pleasure right to her core, it began to hurt as he steadily increased the pressure and she whimpered. He squeezed and pinched so hard that they were beginning to feel sore, and though they were giving her pain, the pleasure continued to fire her inside.



\"Professor... S-Snape! \"She gasped. Her words caught in her throat, her lips and tongue unable to form the shapes, any air or sound choking inside her. She didn’t know whether she really was in pleasure or pain, the two were almost indistinguishable. Bethany blinked hard, her head lolling backwards, her hair partially shielding her eyes. Her chest rose and fell with her erratic breathing, mere hints of moans building in her throat, her stomach muscles twitching. She couldn\'t take this teasing and torment. It was quite obvious he wanted to make her wait as long as possible and she couldn’t bear the ecstasy any longer. Her hand flew down between her legs, seeking to find satisfaction even if it was through her own actions.



Suddenly, Snape released her breast and grasped her wrist tightly. Bethany inhaled sharply, shards of fear glittering in her eyes. She grimaced, convinced that Snape had gripped her hard enough to bruise.



\"No,\" he hissed viciously.



\"But…oh...by all the gods...I can\'t stand this any longer!\" She pleaded. Bethany’s eyes glimmered hungrily, lit with desperation. In her distraction, her hand had gone limp, and were she not so aroused, Bethany would have noticed that her fingers were grazing Snape’s.



\"What will you have me do then, Miss Beddows?\" Asked Snape his hot gaze burning her. He smirked inwardly. His question was so painfully rhetorical. This was the part he adored – extracting truth from these women’s – girls’ – lips. Conjuring up what they least expected, what they least wanted, and making them beg for it.



Bethany hesitated for the briefest of moments. What was a person to say at a moment like this? Would a woman purr some sort of eloquent request, enticing her partner with vocal caresses? Her thoughts disappeared when she felt another wave of hunger pulse through her.



\"F…fuck me!\" She exclaimed. Why was he being so damned cruel?



\"Such language,\" he admonished silkily.



Snape had to stop himself from raising his eyebrows. Bethany’s base language looked odd coming from her, even writhing naked before him. Of course, it delighted him, but the frenzied nature of her request kept it just shy of perfection.



Bethany could have sobbed with the prolonged nature of Snape’s interrogation.



“Sir, please, just…just let me come!”



“I beg your pardon, Miss Beddows?”



Bethany’s mouth fell open. He really could get crueller.



“Professor Snape…please! Sir, please…



All of a sudden, Snape’s gaze became icy. Bethany felt him dig his nails into her wrist, pressing upon the tender bone.



\" You will be fucked...when I am ready to fuck you and you will come when I permit it!\" He stated bluntly.



He released his hold on her wrist and breast and once more grasped her legs and pulled her towards him. She almost came off the table such was his force. Startled she sat up, puzzled, confused.



\"You, my girl, need to exercise a little control and self-discipline. Get up and get off the desk now. I have the distinct impression you have forgotten why you were summoned here in the first place. Now is an appropriate time to remind you.\"



Bethany almost cried out her frustration. What was he doing to her? Why was he putting her through this? He had her aroused to a point she was almost delirious and now he was going to resume reprimanding her for her essay! Was it because she had asked him to fuck her? That was what he wanted as well wasn’t it? How long was he going to prolong this? Bethany\'s conclusion that Professor Snape’s sadistic nature was not solely confined to teaching; it also seemed to apply to his approach to sex was confirmed.



As she slowly rose up from the desk she watched him retrieve the essay and slam it at the end of the table, directly behind where she stood, making her jump. Though aroused to aching, she felt apprehension creep up her spine. Something was suddenly very wrong and a sense of foreboding coiled about her, colder than the stone floor beneath her feet when she saw Professor Snape’s frighteningly serious expression.



Professor Snape enjoyed the play of emotions that swept across the ridiculous girl\'s face. Standing naked before him, glowing with sexual arousal, completely untouched by any man, her voluptuous body trembling and eager with needs that screamed to be satisfied. He savoured her emotional turmoil. She was absolutely bewildered by the sudden change of circumstances, a jumble of expressions ranging from desire, confusion, and almost weeping dismay raced across her flushed face. The volatile mixture of his lust, anger and his control over her pleasure, combined with the sexually excruciating command on himself intoxicated his senses. His heart beat faster, his blood raced. His humiliating teasing of her in such a pitiless fashion intensified the all consuming shameless need for her in the pit of his belly, fuelling the heavy vital power in his genitals. His erection felt huge, hard and as solid as wood.



His eyes travelled leisurely towards the essay on the desk, eyes glazing with contempt.



“That travesty of an essay is nothing more than an insult to the time and effort I spend teaching you. You deliberately displayed contempt for the lesson set this afternoon. “



Bethany’s brain was totally befuddled. On a tidal wave of sheer ecstasy only a moment before at his skilled hands, she now had to focus all her concentration from his intense sexual austerity to his obvious icy anger. How could he switch so quickly from stern sexual tutor to severe potions master? In truth there really wasn’t any difference, it was just the situation that had suddenly altered.



Her mouth opened and shut spasmodically, her head literally aching as she searched her mind for what she thought was the correct answer. Deep inside, Bethany felt cold spiders of panic crawl down her spine. Snape had now shifted into anger, and Bethany had no idea how to react.



“ I…I don’t know, Sir. They...they were just mistakes!” She announced, her voice almost tearfully exasperated with this prolonging of what she hoped was the inevitable.



“To expect me to believe such a feeble lie is a further insult.” He hissed, his eyes narrowed in spite. “I know for a fact, Miss Beddows, that this will not be the first time you have lied to me. In fact, you do it with such conviction that I think you derive pleasure from it. Despite your own enjoyment , I am not one to tolerate untruths of any sort.” His eyes turned glacial as he focussed upon her. “You should, and will, realise this.”



Bethany couldn’t say anything. Unless she stated the truth? What did she have to lose? He already knew anyway. Just wanted her to admit it.



“Alright…alright…” she breathed and swallowed at a dry throat. It was difficult. She felt as well as heard her throat click with the effort.



“I did it on purpose….” She hesitated, waiting for the fury to unleash. There was none. The expectation in Bethany’s eyes would have been humorous were it not for the severity of the situation.



“ Explain,” he ordered, raising his chin slightly, looking down at her from his intimidating height. For Bethany he never before looked so regally dominating and desirable as he did at that moment.



Snape may have looked at his most attractive to Bethany, but all of a sudden she felt completely exposed. She had been naked all this time, but now, when asked to explain herself, she felt as though Snape had reached inside her and turned her and her lies inside out. She folded her arms across her breasts self-consciously, lowering her head so that her hair would partially shield her eyes.



“I wanted to get your attention…a chance to be alone…with you. It was the only way I could think of doing it.” She felt so scared yet so turned on. It was quickly getting too much for her.



“You stupid girl.” Though his voice was quiet it was both harsh and bitter. “Wasting my time and forfeiting your grades and the points of your house to speak with me? Never in my time here have I ever seen a display of such misguided audacity. I had never heralded your academic skills before now, Miss Beddows. It seems that I will not be doing so any time soon. Deliberately sabotaging an essay for male attention?” The last sentence seemed to be spoken to himself, more than at Bethany.



He took one pace towards her, and though she wanted to take an instinctive step back, the thick heavy oak desk prevented her doing so.



“Never do that again, Miss Beddows.”



Professor Snape was genuinely angry at her confession. He regarded the time he spent teaching a never ending succession of thick-headed conceited ingrates a wearisome trial of his patience, a daily depressing endurance test, and to have her state she had purposely failed an assignment infuriated him.



“To impress upon you the seriousness of this foolishness; a punishment felt rather than served will have much longer lasting effects.”



Bethany’s eyes widened; rather than alarm her she felt a bolt of erotic excitement fly straight to her centre, her womb contracting, her virginal muscles spasming in a tight grip of anticipation. She bit her lip to stop her gasp of pleasure.



Professor Snape’s eyes narrowed. He did not miss the lustful shine in her eyes at his statement. Soon they would be glowing with tears.



“Turn around and face the desk, “ he ordered.



Bethany frowned, puzzled; but too excited to question his motives. She slowly turned about and faced the desk. Her essay lay there before her. She could see where he had underscored her mistakes. Part of Bethany wanted to reach out and trace the angry lines with her finger. Foolish thought.



“Count the errors you have made, Miss Beddows.”



She could feel him very close behind her. She shivered in anticipation and fear. What was he going to do to her? Obediently she silently counted the heavily marked lines he’d scored her work with. Nine….not as many as she had thought! She couldn’t tell if that realisation was one of pride or of disappointment.



“ Nine, Sir,” she stated quietly.



“ Bend over the desk,” he commanded.



“ What?” Bethany cast a worried glance over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure if this was going to be erotic after all. Was he was really going to physically punish her? Suddenly she felt his broad hand between her shoulders exerting pressure.



“Bend over Miss Beddows.”



Before she knew it, she was bent at the waist, her torso resting upon the desk, her breasts crushed by her own weight, the edge of the desk cutting into her waist, the thin skin at the bones of her hips felt sore against the unyielding wood. His hand continued to press between her shoulder blades, and she turned her head to the side, her hot cheek resting against the cold paper of her essay. Her hair obscured her view and she didn’t dare brush it out of the way. She remained immobile, waiting, wondering what he was going to do.



Snape inhaled deeply. Her skin was warm and soft to the touch, and he could literally feel her holding her breath.



His hand came down upon her left buttock in the most excruciating, stinging slap possible.



The sound echoed about the room, but it was nothing compared to the agony of it and Bethany yowled loudly at the pain. She tried to stand up but his hand pressed her down, the thump of her body audible as she made contact with the desk. It knocked the wind out of her, and she gasped dryly.



“I advise you to accept this punishment, Miss Beddows, with the respect it deserves. You thought it appropriate to act in an immature manner. Then expect reprisals in this form of physical chastisement to stress upon you to never …”



another vicious slap…



“…do it again.”



If it was possible, that blow was harder than the first, thrusting her against the desktop, even Professor Snape’s hand stung from the impact; but he was still too angry and driven by his temper to calm the power of his blows. He recoiled back again and again to beat her, his arm swinging so fast that it could be heard, again and again, the impact of every blow pushing Bethany painfully against the rough wood. A fine sheen of sweat had broken upon Snape’s forehead from the effort, his own breath quickening as he administered the slaps, his teeth bared. Bethany’s hands gripped the edges of his desk so tightly they hurt, even her knuckles showed white. She sobbed loudly from the pain, the humiliation, and how everything had suddenly turned so sour.



The spanking ceased and a weighty silence descended. She relaxed her body slightly but didn’t dare move, her buttocks felt as though they were on fire. She was somewhat astounded she remained so sexually excited, for though the spanking had been painful it represented to her a brand, a stamp of his dominant authority wielded upon her. She also felt genuinely frightened because she knew she had no control whatsoever and she was utterly at his mercy.



This was not how it was meant to be; this was not supposed to have happened.



As the stinging on her backside cooled a little she recalled in the deep recesses of her mind how she had heard that some men found spanking women sexually exciting. She closed her eyes, squeezing out yet more hot salty tears, wetting the paper beneath her cheek and making the ink on the paper run. Dear Gods, could that be true with Professor Snape? She hoped not, she couldn’t cope with this pain again. Was he really some kind of sexual sadist? She reminded herself again that he was as a teacher, therefore so could he be sexually. He was a Death Eater. The stories she had heard of what evil murdering sadists they were had made her blood run cold and had filled her with absolute terror. Was he truly reformed? Suddenly, as though a lead weight had fallen upon her, she realised the gravity of her actions. How stupid she had been. She had enticed the darkest and most powerful wizard within Hogwarts despite his veiled warnings and attempts to dissuade her. Now it was too late to turn back. What on earth had she let herself in for? The threat of the danger, the fear and the dark eroticism of the situation she had put herself into thrilled her with a peculiarly foreboding excitement.



Professor Snape looked down at her limp form upon his desk. He had been savage in his beating of her, far from the erotic spanking he had subjected Alice Pearson to. But this girl before him had long angered him; an anger and dislike that had fermented over time and her recent stupidity had finally released a reaction from him. His resentment towards her infuriated frustrations he’d had bottled inside him over her behaviour erupted the moment he began to spank her and it was with extreme effort he stopped on the ninth blow. He breathed heavily, taking in the sight of her. He couldn’t quite tell in her shoulders were shrugging with sobs.



He looked down at her, regaining control of his temper, yet it was not satisfied, it boiled within him concentrating entirely in his lower belly and groin. Foolish little girl coming here obviously thinking this was a game? He’d give her a lesson she would never forget.



Her buttocks glowed almost maroon in colour, already bruising from his handprint. The sight excited him further yet with deliberate calm that belied his true feelings, he began to unfasten his trousers, biting back a groan of pleasure as his hands brushed his hardness in the process.



Bethany froze as she heard the distinct metallic sound of a zip being unfastened. Despite the fact he had so fiercely spanked her and she was hurting and scared, it enhanced the voracious sexual desire he had roused in her and yet at that unmistakable sound and the implications it represented, her first impulse was to race from the room; but she knew he had warded the door, and silenced the room. Her heart thumped rapidly. The time had finally come, she was getting what she wanted.



“Miss Beddows; I recommend you put that overconfident mouth of yours to good use for the first time in your life. Turn around and get on your knees before me. It would be to your benefit to ensure it is very well…lubricated… before I commence.”