Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire

Chapter Eight
Bathing and Beyond

The next day, while Arielle was at school, the dog disappeared, though he came back in the afternoon; Jasmine didn’t notice, she was busy at her loom until the sun burned through the clouds. It wasn’t until her friend Anne-Mette interrupted with an owl asking if Arielle could play with her young daughter did she leave the loom and remember that the dog, Sirius, needed a bath. After sending an affirmative answer, she gathered a bucket, comb, a large bottle of Dr. Magus’s Magical Animal Shampoo and her own bottle of Not-Knot hair conditioner then changed clothing. There was no way she’d wear robes and good clothes to wash the dog in. Jeans and ratty tee-shirt would do just fine to get dirty, her bra was removed – wet lace was awful.

Sirius trotted up as Jasmine left the barn and greetings of words and woofs were exchanged. In minutes both woman and dog were soaked with warm water and covered in suds. Sirius smelled even worse when wet, but was quite happy to stand still while she scrubbed shampoo into his fur. Slowly, it unmatted and he began to smell better. She, of course, smelled worse. Her clothing clung to her body, soaked, the once- purple-but-now-lilac tee-shirt was ten years old, thin and now nearly transparent; the topknot holding her hair unraveled so she spent the rest of the bath blowing hair out of her face. Sirius was playing with it, attempting to grab a strand with his teeth anytime some fell in her face so she’d have to flip it around, laughing.

He did get clean while they played, though he seemed to back away a little bit as Jasmine washed his tummy. She knelt on the grass as she soaped up his underside and couldn’t help but notice that Sirius was very male.

“If you stay with us, dog, you’re going to have to get fixed. I don’t want to be responsible for any hanky panky.” The dog stopped playing and stared at her. “Mr. Percival has a collie across the road - I don’t want any big black puppies!” Sirius looked offended and turned to present his tail, which was tugged on, then washed.

They spent a long time chasing each other around the yard, she laughing like a girl, the dog’s mouth open and tongue lolling. He was playing with the water, jumping in and out of it and suds ran through the black fur. As they played tug with the hose, Sirius pulled so hard that Jasmine slipped and fell onto the wet grass. The dog bounded over to lick her face and neck so eagerly that he forced her to lie back on the grass while he loomed over her, giving affectionate dog kisses. His intelligent eyes seemed to be laughing with her.

Severus Snape stalked around the corner of the house, calling for Jasmine and Arielle. He stopped, seeing his ex-wife laying on the ground, the huge black dog standing over her. She was shrieking and attempting to push him off of her. He grabbed for his wand at the same time Jasmine gave up trying to push the licking dog off and reached up to hug his massive neck. “Jasmine!” he yelled.

Still holding on to the dog, Jasmine let her head fall backwards, still laughing, to look at Severus upside down. He looked panicked and enraged but only held the wand. The dog shifted to better hold her weight, accidentally stepping on her hair. Neither of them noticed. The man did. Watching Severus, Sirius’s hackles raised and he rumbled. Jasmine soothed him.

Jasmine grinned at Severus and called, “Hello! Ari is playing with Moira this afternoon.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” she laughed, “we adopted the dog you saw. He’s wonderful; Ari named him Sirius.” She tried to stand but was caught by her hair. Shoving mightily at the beast who didn’t react to the push, she didn’t see Severus wince at the name. Sirius moved slowly off of her, watching Severus unblinkingly. Jasmine stood but Sirius moved to stand between her and Severus, who kept his wand pointed. “Severus, it’s fine, really.”

She gave him a condensed version of the last afternoon’s events. “So, we came home, fed him and here he is.”

“It appears that I owe this dog a debt of gratitude. Be that as it may, you still don’t know that this dog is safe. I don’t want it around Arielle, it could turn on her at any time.” He gave the dog a look of dislike.

Patiently, Jasmine explained how she decided that the dog was safe. “He’s staying, Severus. I like him.”

Her hands rested on her hips. Severus glanced down, noticing the state of her clothing. The wet shirt clung, giving a mockery of a covering. Ridged tawny nipples tipped her full breasts and he could see the colors, shapes and shadows clearly. The jeans, which seemed decent an hour ago, were now plastered to her, one of the knees was shredded. They outlined the curves of her hips and bottom enticingly. The play had given her rosy cheeks and brightened her blue eyes. Her thick auburn hair waved around her face and tumbled down her back. She may as well have been naked.

Heat rose in Severus’s eyes and he took an automatic step forward. Sirius growled. Snape stopped. The man and dog glared at each other. Jasmine rolled her eyes, told them to both give it a rest, turned off the water and stepped up to the house.

“Arielle isn’t here, I’m sorry, but since you didn’t owl that you were coming…” she trailed off. “She’ll be back for dinner.”

Severus dragged his eyes away from her breasts again and, muttered, “Alright, I’ll see her this weekend. Be careful of that dog. I don’t like it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and strode off.

Sirius balefully watched him go. Irritated and sighing, Jasmine pointed the way to the barn. “That is not how to make him like you, you know. It would be helpful if you at least tried.” The dog grinned up at her, tongue lolling once more. She gave him a sour look, “Oh, go and dry off,” and stalked into the house. Watching the door for a few moments, the dog seemed to be breathing deeply before ambling into the barn, dripping.

Snape stalked past the Hecate’s Hawthorn bushes lining the walkway and fence then disapparated in the middle of the street. He reapparated at the gates of Hogwarts and hurried to his rooms, robes wrapped around his body rather than sweeping behind as usual. Once the door was slammed shut against prying Slytherin eyes he leaned back against it for a moment then flopped into the nearest overstuffed chair. His robes fell open to reveal his slim black clad body, tense. A wave of his hand lit a single candle in the dark sitting room. Closing his eyes he remembered every detail of Jasmine, wet from washing the newest beast. It had taken every ounce of strength he had not to fall to his knees in the water and nuzzle into her beautiful breasts and take her right there. Jasmine wasn’t interested in him anymore, nor was he in love with her, but, by God, her breasts…

Long fingers tore at the buttons of his trousers before shoving them halfway down his legs. His right hand closed around the shaft of his penis, thumb stroking the head. A thick pearly drop welled and was immediately smeared over the smooth skin. Severus’s taut belly trembled at the sensation and his fingers tightened as he stroked. Glancing to the counter by the sink, he lifted his left hand and muttered “Accio jar”. It flew to his hand and was set on a nearby table, his fingers already dipping into the olive, sage and wild pansy unguent. He rubbed the lotion on his already throbbing penis and closed his eyes.

Severus stroked the shaft picturing Jasmine\'s tee-shirt clinging to her soft breasts. He groaned as his member grew harder, each stroke agony as he called to mind her buttocks...her hair… the way she smelled and moved... He imagined those light blue eyes darkening with desire as he stripped off the soaked shirt, the trousers disappearing with a motion. Mouth opening, his tongue flicked over the imaginary Jasmine’s nipples, his hand guiding her to straddle him. The woman in his mind settled over his cock, hot, wet and tight, her auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders. His hand moved faster and his head fell back. The deep thrumming in his balls spread outward, heat flooded his body as his hand worked.

Severus fumbled with the buttons on his jacket and shirt then ripped them open. The black cravat he wore hung limply open down his chest, fluttering with each panting breath. His entire body tightened as he imagined Jasmine’s orgasm flowing over him, squeezing his cock tight with her body. He ripped the cloth from around his neck. Covering his penis with it was his last sane thought. His wordless groan ripped through his chest and his eyes clenched as he exploded with sensation. Soft grunts were choked on as the pearly strands pounded out, captured in the cloth.


Jasmine breathed a deep sigh of relief that washing Sirius was done. He smelled awful, but now he was clean and she was the one that smelled disgusting. She’d have to take her own bath. Looking into the full-length mirror as she prepared to strip, Jasmine stopped and looked at herself in horror. Her hair was a disaster, it had come out of its knot and was hanging in her face. Half was wet, the other half was in tousled, probably knotted curls. There was a smudge of dirt on her face, which was flushed and shiny as though she’d walked to London and back. The perfectly decent jeans and tee-shirt were plastered to her. Since she was soaked, it was absolutely clear that she wasn’t wearing a bra; it was also clear that she wasn’t a perky twenty year old either. Mud and black dog hair covered the clothing, making it look even dirtier. There was a rip in the knee of her jeans. Her bare feet were scratched and filthy. Someone, especially the ever-elegant Severus, had seen her like this? Brilliant.

After stripping quickly out of the filthy clothes, Jasmine went into the bathroom. Two of the walls were completely glass, enchanted so people on the outside couldn’t see in. Running a bath full of honeysuckle scented bubbles, Jasmine stepped in and sank into the water. Only ten minutes were allowed for this soak, but it would keep her from getting stiff muscles later, she set the alarm just in case. Quickly, she scrubbed the mud off her feet and legs, checking to make sure she didn’t need to use a hair removal potion anytime soon. Jasmine couldn’t imagine how Muggle women used knife blades to keep their legs smooth. After her pale skin was pink from scrubbing and her hair was dark and curling in the sultry heat of the water, Jasmine twisted the tap with her toes and clear water jetted from the shower wand next to her. Leisurely, she washed her hair with honeysuckle scented shampoo then used the shower wand to rinse the suds from her hair. Unplugging the tub with her toe, she stood in the steamy room, gazing into the flowering meadow, lifting the shower to wash the bubbles from her face and shoulders. A burst of water tickled one of her nipples and Jasmine paused, relishing the sensation. She directed the water to the other nipple, which was now a small pebble from the cool air. Tingles curled through her, starting from her nipples and landing low in her belly. The tiny muscles between her legs tightened and released, rhythmically. Her other hand lifted to pinch one tawny peak and Jasmine’s eyes closed, enjoying the magic of the water. Too soon, the radio clicked on its alarm and a Weird Sisters dance tune interrupted the moment. Jasmine growled halfheartedly, quickly rinsed off, dressed and rushed off to pick up Arielle.


The dog, Sirius, wandered into the barn and settled into the last stall, on a bed of comfortable hay, warm from the squares of sunlight on the floor. He lay still until he heard the slam of front door and Jasmine’s high heels clicking away into town. He stood. Suddenly, where the dog had been, was a tall man, thin though muscular, with black hair and light gray eyes that looked like clouds rolling over the sea. He was an animagus- human, but able to switch at will into the large black dog. His face was gaunt and his hair, moustache and beard were too long, but at one time he’d been a handsome man. He wore a long, formerly black robe that buttoned up the front, which was faded, stained and frayed. Bare legs with a fading tan flashed under the hem and tattered, muddy slippers were on his feet. The collar was open, revealing black chest hair over skin that seemed stretched too tightly. He was thirty-six years old, but looked much older because of the wear on his face and the deadened light in his eyes. He was Sirius Black, convicted mass murderer and betrayer of his best friends’ secrets, recently escaped from Azkaban, the wizard’s prison. He was dangerous, deadly and one of the more clever and powerful wizards alive. He was also soaking wet from the bath Jasmine had just given him.

Silently and quickly, he unbuttoned the first three buttons of his robes as he stepped out of his shoes. He whipped the garment over his head and hung it on nails on either side of the open window to dry. Naked, he looked even thinner. His ribs stuck out and his belly curved inward, the skin stretched over tight muscles. His arms and legs looked like sticks; once-hard muscles looked shrunken. Black hair, glistening with water droplets, arrowed down his stomach. A thin trail went past his navel, only to thicken densely around the long shaft that was thick and hard over tight balls. Sirius ignored his erection and silently began to stretch muscles that had not been upright in a very long time. He was used to being a dog. A gentle breeze blew in through the uncovered window and Sirius stood stretching, drying himself off in the sun. He dropped to do a few fast pushups but quickly turned over onto his back when his penis struck the floor of the barn. A croaking chuckle filled the air, the first sound he’d made. Gently he cradled his cock and balls with one large hand.

“Get me fixed? There’s no way in hell that woman is going to get me fixed!” The voice was rusty, as though it was very rarely used, and he laughed again. It sounded harsh. “Twelve years in Azkaban and the first really attractive woman I run into wants to cut off my jewels. That’s enough to make a man depressed. The dementors would love it.”

As though shocked at hearing his own voice, he quieted, sinking into his thoughts. Sirius Black was very good at being still and quiet. As he lay sprawled on the hay, he listened intently for the sound of Jasmine’s clicking heels on the walkway. Absently, he stroked the hard shaft in his hands and considered the beautiful woman he’d discovered. She was amazing, so beautiful, he wanted to cry, though Sirius hadn’t shed tears since two of his best friends were killed. The tiny Jasmine had been ready and willing to kill him if he’d attacked her or harmed the girl and he outweighed her by a good hundred and fifty pounds; he never would have, though. His grip tightened as he remembered how she looked when they had played outside. The thick flesh in his hand got harder as he daydreamed about Jasmine’s breasts bouncing as they played. He knew she hadn’t noticed the shirt was transparent and he’d deliberately splashed her several times just to watch her nipples pucker. Sirius’s thumb stroked over the smooth head of his cock as he imagined her mouth instead of his hand. He knew she’d be so hot that he’d blow in seconds. He’d cheerfully commit the murders he’d been accused of, just to see her naked, to have her naked and willing beneath him.

He tried to calm himself, thinking that this lust was only because he hadn’t had a woman in thirteen years, but knew that it was more. It was this woman - Jasmine. The image in his mind changed and he saw Jasmine on her knees in front of him, looking over her shoulder with a sexy sweet smile, blue eyes dark with need. In his mind, she lifted her hips up to him, her pretty derriere wiggling and thighs spread, showing him the pink core of her sex. Sirius’s hand moved faster and his breath shortened. He felt himself slide into her; she was made for him - a hot, sweet, tight glove that fit him perfectly. His other hand moved to caress his balls, massaging as he stroked hard and fast. The pounding in his brain throbbed so much it almost hurt. With an almost silent gasp, he stiffened, hips rising from the floor. His legs and belly taut, he stroked once more before the first jet of semen erupted from his cock. It spurted up and onto his stomach, followed by more; each stream was hot, thick and pearly. His brain seemed to have exploded; he knew his eyes were crossed under clenched lids.

Heavy breathing was the only sound in the barn as Sirius lay still to recover. Soon, though, he wiped the semen off with a bunch of scratchy hay before walking into the barn’s corridor to pour some of the clean water over his belly, trying to get clean again. Ignoring the discomfort of the cold water, he hurried back into the stall, and tossed the soiled hay out the window behind the barn. Careful not to rip his only garment, Sirius removed it from the nails on the wall, grateful that it was now mostly dry. He slipped back into his shoes, cast a quick drying charm on the clothing and transformed into a dog just in time to hear Jasmine’s shoes on the walkway and Arielle’s sweet chattering. Glad they were home, Sirius Black, innocent of the murders he had been sent to prison for, curled up on the hay again and went to sleep.