a currently weakening space

[Disclaimer] Characters belong to JK Rowling. No money is being made from this story.

So there he was, sallow aging cheeks tucked deep between Draco\'s pert, youthful ones, his aquiline nose bobbing just above the boy\'s sweetly opening hole. Snape’s tongue jabbed in, sliding over the flexing canal that was still spiced with the subtle burn of the finger of ginger Snape had carefully carved and set into his young charge and left to sit.

The effects had taking a couple of minutes to show. Draco was bent over the desk, narrow shoulders hunched as he boyishly pressed his face against his forearm in an attempt not to be seen. Draco\'s shame drove Snape mad with desire and the sick need to sacrifice the boy\'s final shreds of dignity by making him come.

It had been a couple of months since Snape had initiated this affair. Lucius Malfoy\'s imprisonment had left Draco no one to turn to when things weren\'t going his way. His childish cries of \"I\'ll tell my father\" carried absolutely no weight with anyone now, not that they had to anyone outside of Slytherin before. Ah, but there was the rub. Still living in Slytherin, a few students wished for Draco to have his comeuppance.

Delicious. Snape remembered that word in reference to the hopeful look on Draco\'s face when he\'d come to the man he\'d confided in for six years answered, \"And for my protection, what will you give me?\" Oh, the beautifully crestfallen look that tainted that once-haughty face. Draco shouldn\'t have been as surprised as he was. They were all Slytherin, after all.

Pointy and small. Pale and wealthy. Malfoy wasn\'t terribly attractive to Snape outside of his helpless submission. Stripped of his fashionable robes, all ribs and jutting hipbones and then bent over, that ass: that perfect, golden-downed, flat ass. Jutting out from the desk like this defined its weight and depth, and Snape drove his hands to grasp either cheek the first time he saw it. Shoving the flesh apart, his nails dug in as Draco gasped and felt his hot pink, pulsing opening exposed. The boy\'s body shivered as he covered his face with his arm in shame for the first time.

Delicious.

In all of this time, in spite of copious sucking, fondling and expert touching of the pubescent prick, Draco had barely even become erect, let alone came. Snape could see it in Draco\'s eyes. That badge of defiance, the way he held his head up as if to say, \"Yes, you\'ve fucked me and touched me and I\'ve lived up to my end of it, but you\'ll never have me. You\'ll never make me come.\"

Today, Snape determined, that defiance would end.

Draco was shocked when he felt the cool of the ginger root sliding easily into his orifice. He glared over his shoulder at Snape with a question in his eyes, but said nothing. Instead he simply turned back around and rested his face against his forearm and waited for Snape to fuck him with it, or whatever perverse thing the man was going to do. As degrading as sex with Snape was, at least he knew that the older man would never seriously injure him.

As the burning started, he wondered for a moment if his trust hadn\'t been misplaced. His thin legs shifted as his inner muscles flexed, trying to dislodge the root. Snape held it firmly in place. Draco whimpered. He felt his insides starting warming, tingling in a way that was either bringing him intense pain or severe horniness.

When the boy moved his hips forward, trying to avoid the over-stimulation from the natural oils of the root irritating his skin, Snape wrapped an arm around the boy\'s waist and grabbed on to his stiffening prick. Draco\'s lithe body undulated under the touch, his pale feet danced under him as he started to keen with panic.

Lovely.

Snape\'s dark eyes moved to the clock. He didn\'t want to leave the ginger in Draco for too long, it would be cruel and wouldn\'t be particularly advantageous if the boy went numb. He rocked the root carefully into the boy, twisting it and coating his insides with the sap. He looked over the fine skin, the soft curve of his back. Draco was 16, but his narrow frame and natural thinness made him appear younger. It was unethical, but not technically illegal. Not that it would matter. Draco would never suffer the humiliation of letting anyone know of these interludes and therefore Snape could have his way with him.

The older man finally relented with his figging, and pulled the root out of the grasping band of muscles. Now was the coup de grace. He knelt down behind Draco and grabbing at him with both hands in the same savage way that he had the first time he had opened the boy, he dove his face in.

The smell of ginger was heady and the taste sharp. His nails bit into the skin as his tongue delved inside of the boy, eating at him aggressively. Snape\'s teeth bussed over the sensitized flesh as his tongue swirled and soothed the tender inner skin.

In spite of himself, Draco thrust his hips back wantonly, his body begged for gratification. The sensations were driving him mad, and he felt tears trickling down his face as his body glistened and then dripped with sweat. No, he wasn\'t going to come. He would allow it.

Snape\'s hand tightened around Draco\'s length and twisted as again that soothing tongue lapped away the heat from his squeezing inner muscles.

\"Noooo...\" sobbed Draco as the man wrapped his arm around the boy and his cool fingers thrummed his prick expertly. The small Seeker shivered. His hips trembled and his small body quaked with feeling, blushing at the wickedness of the driving and swirling tongue until he finally wailed and broke. Feeling his scrotum tightening beyond his ability to bear it, he let out short huff of breath and it was over. Draco came over the front of the desk and over Snape\'s hands.

Wrapping his arms up over his face to shield Snape from what his shuddering body clearly already gave away, Draco tried to block out the derisive snickering behind him.

Snape had won.