The Pains of Becoming

New chapter, beta’d once more by Lily Evins, starts further down the page!



MaryJane:

thanks for sticking with me and reviewing again! It helps me a lot in order to reflect on what I have written and inspires me to keep going!



>“As you know I loooove Snape in fatherly roles:)“.

Yes, I know and I hope all the spanking in the following chapters doesn’t spoil it for you too much :)

I know what you mean with spanking being a strange mixture of a „parent-thing“ and also sexual. That surely makes it „weird“. I can’t help but always see it as something sexual and I already felt that way when I was little. But in a sexual context I feel like it looses it’s thrill when it is used for sexual reasons only. So I do love that weird nature of it pretending to be punishment and actually being sexual. Snape is that kind of oldfashioned authority type who would use spanking as a form of punishment without any sexual intentions behind it. But it simply has all those bdsm elements that he also has tendencies too. Even though Snape really does not plan anything indecent with her (you will notice he always lets her keep her underwear on), I think he is tricking himself a bit with spanking her. It will become a bit clearer that he is not as much in control of himself as he thinks he is and that with his treatment of her he is shooting himself in the foot. As to were they are heading, believe me, I thought I knew, but having written a few more chapters ahead now I relly don’t know.



Thanks also for your critisism about my portrail of the Gryffindors. I admit my Slytherin favorism may have made me a bit unfair, hehe. I also admit I did not pay enough attention to how the rest of the school would react to her. Maybe Dumbledore would have said something official about it to prevent conflicts. I thought he would try keep it covered up but when it doesn’t work I am thinking something would have been done.

But nobody knows anything. All there is are rumors and the fact that she attacked Harry Potter and that she is not sorry about it. That she was kidnapped and raped was not part of any rumours until she told people suddenly in order to defend herself and right afterwards threatened with her Deatheater contacts. That did not make her a very believable victim. And I honstely think Harry’s friends would feel very strongly about her attacking him and not showing any guilt and therefore might be unfair too in order to defend him. JK’s books are very much written from a Gryffindor perspective and I like the idea that objectively they can be just as judgemental as Slytherins. But I get your point and should I rewirte this story some day I would give more thought to this whole senario. Thanks for pointing it out!





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Chapter 25

A Consequence



Kirsty was just turning a corner when she found herself stopping dead in her tracks, so did Snape who appeared in front of her. They stared at each other for a moment. Then Kirsty dropped her gaze to the floor quickly and muttered nervously:



”I thought you… You’re not at dinner.”



“Neither are you,” he replied, “do you think I would be sitting there having dinner, after you simply disappeared of the earth for the entire afternoon when you were supposed to be in your classes?” She felt him gripping her arm harshly. Without another word he dragged her along towards the potions class room and into his office. He pushed her inside and closed the door behind them, his black eyes pierced into hers, penetrating and waiting.

She quickly looked around. There was not much space to back off to, but he did not advance at her so she decided to focus on him and stay where she was, somewhere near the desk to hold on to.



“I fell asleep,” she said quietly, “…I just… I needed to be alone and fell asleep. …That’s all.”



“You are missing out the part where you caused your Care of Magical Creatures class to finish fifty minutes early because you decided to throw a tantrum and shout your pain out into the word for everyone to hear and then initiate a little wand battle with Gryffindor. Are you mad?” He had stepped towards her and she had backed off a little to maintain a bit of distance.



“Yes, Sir! I think I just might be!” she answered a little louder and angrier than intended, “I don’t care about exams. I don’t care about anything… except being with him.” she now spoke quietly, almost whispering, begging him with her eyes to just set her free, to leave her to her fate what ever it may be.



“I know,” he answered just as quietly, but his black eyes were still piercing, “but I promised the Headmaster …” Kirsty grabbed a jar with something weird in it and smashed it on the floor. Snape stopped mid sentence and looked at the broken jar and it’s ruined content on the floor, “screw him! He doesn’t know me, he doesn’t care about me! Just let Lucius have me, what ever he does to me is better than this.”



Snape stepped towards her: “If you think, that smashing my belongings will make me abandon you, you are mistaken.”



“That’s right, you do what ever Dumbledore…”



“Quiet!”



Kirsty froze. Snape had stepped right in front of her, his eyes glittering, “You can go crazy, you can cause as much trouble as you wish. It won’t chance anything. It won’t make you feel better. It won’t make me give you what you want. But here is a lesson for you, one that you obviously still need to learn: You have to deal with the consequences. What ever you do in your life, you always have to deal with the consequences. It might not have been the last time you missed a class, it might not have been the last time you got into a fight, but I assure you, it will have been the last time you deliberately destroyed something of mine,” he paused, letting his words sink in, “bend over the desk.”



She hesitated and then said insecurely: “I think we have done that yesterday.”



“Then you should remember how it works. Bend over.”



She wanted to object, she wanted to laugh at him and tell him how ridiculous his attempts of disciplining her were. But a bigger part of her just wanted to give in, wanted to feel his punishment… his anger. Inside her, she was desperate to receive anything that would kill the numbness and need, that empty feeling that Lucius had left.



She bend over and rested with her cheek on the cold wooden desk, framed by her arms. Her fingertips met above her head.



But she heard him step away and turn his back on her as he said:



“Pull up your skirt.”



Kirsty pushed herself up slightly and turned her head to see what he was doing. He still had his back turned to her. She could make out that he was waving his wand at something and muttered a transfiguration charm. Then he turned back to her.



“I believe I told you to pull up your skirt.”



She dropped her eyes to what he was holding in his hand. He had put his wand back inside his robe, but in the other hand he was now holding something that looked like a cane, a thin, wooden cane. Did he really think of using it on her? Was this what it was? Of course it was, she had to make clear to herself, but her mind was refusing to accept it as reality. She might have experienced strange and violent and wrong things in the last month, but they were clearly wrong and the doing of bad people, her and Lucius. But this? This was meant to be right. She had never lived in a time or place where physical punishment was right. He had spanked her the night before, yes, and it had been very weird and confusing. But she had been able to place it in her memory under “odd things that happened in the heat of the moment”. Now as she saw Snape approaching her slowly with the cane in his hand, she had to admit to herself, just as 24 hours ago when it happened, he did not seem out of control, driven by the “heat of the moment”. He was calm, controlled, and acting as though this was nothing unusual at all.



As he approached she turned her face away from him again. She felt her heart racing and her face flushing. There was no need for him to notice her embarrassment.



“No,” she said quietly.



“I beg you pardon?”



“I’m not doing that… Sir.”



As nervous as he made her, she did not see a reason why she should humiliate herself like that and pull up her skirt for him.



“Really? Let me make this clear, Miss Flame, I am telling you to pull up your skirt for me and I will wait right here until you have done it. And then I will discipline you with this,” he placed the cane in front of her eyes and pushed an hour glass in her view next to it, “for as long as you deserve it for your wrong doings of today plus the duration of time you made me wait.” He fell silent.



Kirsty watched the sand run through the hour glass and the cane lying next to it. She had no idea what that thing would feel like. But she expected it to be possibly worse than his hand had felt. She couldn’t exactly make herself believe that waiting for the inevitable, while bend over a desk with Snape waiting behind her, probably starting at her backside was any better than simply getting it over with, so she slowly reached back with both hands and pulled her school skirt up her waist. She placed her hands above her head again. She was surprised at feeling glad she had done it. He removed the hour glass and the cane from her sight.



“Thank you, Miss Flame,” he said factually and fell silent again.



She shook as she suddenly felt his rough fingertips softly sliding down the hem of her panties and pulling it aside slightly in the process. He did not say anything. She imagined he had noticed the bruises he had left on her the night before and he was trying to see more of it. But he pulled her panties back in place and she could hear him step back from her slightly. Then she felt that cane teasingly tapping her bottom. It was withdrawn and with an air cutting sound brought back down. Kirsty cried out in pain and shock. It felt like the cane cut right through her skin into her flesh. While her panties had protected her mostly from the sting of his hand spanking, it certainly did not help now. The fabric covering her bottom seemed nonexistent for the cane. She hardly had time to recover when the second blow fell. She cried out even louder and pushed herself up from the desk but she froze in her movements when she felt the cane pressing against her bottom, just exactly where it had hit her before.



“Do not move,” Snape said calmly.



“Very funny!” she said shaky in defiance.



The cane retreated and another skin cutting stroke met her immediately.



“Not funny at all,” he replied just as calm as before.



“Stop it! It hurts!”



“That is very much intended. Now be quiet and take your punishment with some grace.”



“Grace?!”



She heard the swishing sound and another stroke hit her burning flesh. She cried out in response and stomped her foot on the floor.



“Yes, grace. You deserve every little bit of this, and I will continue to cane you until you acknowledge that.”



“I will tell Professor Dumbledore,” she cried quietly. She felt ashamed of herself to threaten him with this. It seemed terribly lame. It was what a little girl would probably say, but it just came out.



“Please do, I have the very small hope that it would make him see reason and take you out of my sight, but I am afraid he knows very well that I would turn to these measures if you misbehave and something inside me tells me, that was one of the reasons why he put you in my care. So I can only advice you, to be quiet and take your punishment and learn from it.”



She felt helpless, humiliated and mistreated. The next stroke came down on her and she muffled her cry as she bit her own hand. She tried to keep her body still but now she was shaking from crying. She stopped noticing the strokes of the cane as separate assaults. As she desperately cried into her own arm she only recognised a steadily refreshed pool of cutting and burning pain. After every stroke she hoped bitterly it was the last.



”Please… please stop,” she cried quietly and defeated. The next stroke was left out and she held her breath, afraid to miss his announcement that her punishment was over.



“For your information,” Snape stated calmly, “I have just finished addressing your misdeed of refusing to take part in your Care of Magical Creatures class and speaking disrespectful to your Care of Magical Creatures teacher. We still have to discuss,” he gave the word a sarcastic tone, “you attacking another student, missing two other classes and a private appointment with your charms teacher… well, and then I would still like to share with you how I feel about you smashing a carefully preserved and very rare piece of dragon embryo liver on my floor.”



Kirsty shook over the renewed breaking out of tears spilling forth. She could not imagine how she was going to survive this.



“No, please!… Please Professor, I’m sorry!” she cried, “I’m sorry about all of it! Please!!”



Snape seemed to hesitate. She tensed in surprise as she suddenly felt him bending over her. His robes brushing over her body, his hands appeared on either side of her and his voice came softly from somewhere near above her. She froze.



“So Lucius is right about you being the begging type.”



Sudden excitement washed over her. She suddenly felt very clear about what was right and what was wrong. He might have been right to punish her, but he was surely out of line reminding her of those embarrassing encounters when Lucius tried to get Snape interested in her. She forced herself to breath flatly , she did not want to miss the slightest sound, anything that could give her an indication of what Snape was going to do next. Seconds went by. She thought for a moment she could feel his breath on her neck, or was she only imagining it? She had always savoured the moments when she caught Lucius breath brushing her skin somewhere.



But then Snape removed himself from her again and fell silent somewhere behind her. She waited, her heart racing. But then it was the cane again taking measure on her backside before it came down for an uncounted time, refreshing the agonising cutting pain. She shrieked and new tears started to flow. It only took few minutes until she was reduced to a pitiful and sobbing something bend over Snape’s desk, receiving the cane over and over. More minutes went by with the cane again and again, cutting through the air and into her flesh, she could not imagine what her bottom looked like from the severe pain she felt there. She could not believe, that he did not stop. No one who knew Snape would have argued the fact that he was harsh, but she hardly found any more strength inside her to cry, and he still didn’t seem to be finished with her. She wanted to ask him, what made him so angry, because she could not imagine it was only her misbehaviour, but she did not dare to say anything until he would finally stop. He had to stop at some point…



When he finally again left out the next stroke she held her breath again and chocked on her tears. Through her blurred vision she saw him place the cane in front of her face again. Incredible relief travelled through her body, but in the next moment she saw the hour glass put in front of her again as well. Snape took the cane and turned the hour glass upside down for the sand that had gone down while she had hesitated to pull her skirt up before, to flow back. She knew what this meant. She squeezed her eyes shut, she did not want to watch the hours glass. Without explanation another blow came down on her tormented backside. She was almost to weak to cry in response. A cried squeak escaped her. When she blinked three strokes later she saw the last sand corn fall and Snape ceased his punishing her.

She closed her eyes again, she was exhausted.



“Don’t move,” he said quietly behind her. She hardly acknowledged what he said, she had neither the wish nor the strength to move anyway.



She heard him step away from her and he muttered another transfiguration charm, then he returned.



“I’m afraid,” he started, “I still need to share my feelings with you, about that jar you smashed.”



She froze in response of his left hand pressing over the dimples where her back met her bottom and holding her in place. Immediately something broad and leathery smacked her bottom. It felt entirely different from the cane, the pain was not focused and cutting. It affected her entire backside with a violent blow that drove her into the edge of the desk and only kept her in place because of Snape’s left hand pressing down on her. It spilled a burning sensation all over her bottom that gave her a shiver. And the sound had been shockingly loud, filling the room entirely. She gasped in response.



“You will never again let your anger out on my belongings,” Snape stated and the strap met her backside a second time. She shrieked.



“Or I will let mine out on your backside.” He did it again. She had not thought she had any tears left to spill, but apparently she did.



“Over and over.” The strap seemed to rain his attacks down on her now.



She held on to the desk as best as she could until he stopped. She did not dare to believe that he was really finished, she had been disappointed with that so many times already. But then she heard the strap being flung aside. She listened carefully for what was coming next.



“You may pull down your skirt,” he stated coldly.



She didn’t wish to do so. Her bottom was on fire, any little movement of her body increased the pain. She did not want to cover it with more fabric, she did not want to move at all.



So she stayed exactly as she was, and only carefully wiped her eyes with the arm of her jumper.



“Is something wrong with your ears?” he snapped, suddenly alarmingly annoyed, “pull it down!”



She didn’t care. There was hardly much more damage he could do by beating her more.



She felt him harshly pulling down her skirt. She sobbed in response. She desperately wished, he would not be so harsh now. She did not know what exactly she wished for, she was entirely spent. But she did not feel she could get up by herself if he asked her to. She wanted him to help her. She wanted him to be close, to tell her that everything was going to be ok. But she could not feel him anywhere near her. She rested entirely on the desk, with no desire to change her position. She wanted to pull her skirt back up and her panties down to feel the air cooling her skin. She wanted him to stroke her hair and her back and make her feel that he was there… for her. But he was not. She could not even tell if he was still in the room. So she only closed her eyes and felt the desk support her. She wanted to pass out and not wake up again.



She could not tell how much time had gone by, in which Snape did not make a sound, wherever he was in the room.



But eventually he said from somewhere further away:



”Get up. …it’s late. No revising today, you should go to bed now.” She noticed the harshness and strictness had left his voice, it sounded rather uncertain, it reminded her of the way he had sounded when Dumbledore had asked him to take care of her. But she did not give it too much thought. She did not want to leave, she did not want to be alone now. She swallowed on the knot in her throat and forced herself up. She did not want him to shout at her again.



New pain washed over her from her backside when she straightened up. She sobbed quietly.



“Do I have to leave?” she asked hardly audible.



”What?”



She sniffled and paused, then she said, just as quiet, fixing her stare at the desk where she had been lying for an eternity: “I don’t want to go.”



“Go to bed!” he cut her off firmly. She shook at his sudden sternness and breathed deeply to prevent herself from crying again before she left without looking at him.