Detention
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
8,181
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
8,181
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Detention
Title: Detention
Author: Ginny Powell
Rating: NC-17
Feedback: Helpful suggestions greatly appreciated. wmginnypowell@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters or the setting, I’m not making any money off this, just trying to work a tiny bit of my own magic.
Summary: You have detention with Snape, you naughty girl. Gosh, I wonder what will happen?
“You are late.” The Potions Master spoke the words quietly,
but you startled as though slapped. You hadn’t noticed him, standing off to
the side in the dim dungeon room.
“I’m sorry, Professor, I-”
“Do not waste my time further with explanations. Sit.”
Professor Snape glanced meaningfully at the chair next to him, and you hurried
to do his bidding. The last thing you wanted was to earn another detention.
Well, not the last thing. He might be a greasy bastard, but
there was definitely something sexy about your Potions Professor. That body,
tantalizingly revealed by the fluttering of his robes, and that voice…
“Pay attention!” That voice wasn’t an instrument of
seduction now; more like a weapon. You turned rapt eyes up at him. “You will
label every one of these bottles,” he directed, shoving a piece of parchment toward
you which contained a long list of ingredients. “Get started. Oh, and drink
this.” He held out a small blue vial.
You looked askance at the vial. Taking an unknown potion
seemed like a bad idea. Surely they had covered that in class recently?
Noticing your hesitation, Snape rolled his eyes. “It’s just
a small modification to a Cheering formula that needs testing. You don’t
really think I’d try to poison you, do you?”
He made it sound preposterous, but you thought that several
of your classmates wouldn’t find the idea outlandish at all. You, however,
rather thought that Dumbledore would look down on that sort of thing. Surely.
Slowly, you reached out for the vial.
Snape smiled coldly, watching as you uncorked and drained
the little bottle. Then he took the empty vial from you and stepped back. “I
prefer not to be disturbed. That means do not speak unless you are spoken to.”
You nodded your understanding, not daring to speak even
though you were being spoken to. He seemed to find this satisfactory, and
stalked off to sit at his own desk, where a mound of student parchments sat
waiting.
You turned to your work. Being very careful to spell it
correctly, you wrote “Acromantula venom” in your best handwriting on a label, then
stuck it carefully to the appropriate bottle.
Several minutes later, you had gotten all the way to “Bundimun
secretion”, and were thoroughly bored. To keep yourself awake, you stole
glances around the room as you worked. Especially glances at Snape. You
noticed how the candlelight reflected off his jet black hair, making you think
of how soft it would be to the touch. How his posture was perfect even as he
marked papers. How his long fingers tapped the quill impatiently.
How you were getting incredibly horny.
You looked back at your work, realizing that you’d been
staring. It was very lucky that he hadn’t looked up and seen you. Belatedly,
you realized your tongue was peeking out one corner of your mouth, and you
hurriedly pulled it back in.
What was wrong with you? I mean, yeah, you had thought
dirty thoughts about him before, stared at him in class – especially from
behind, when he was at the board. But this was more than that. You could feel
the pulse beating insistently between your legs, your panties growing damp.
When you looked at him again, unable to resist the urge, it was all you could
do not to moan aloud when he regally flipped his hair back with a shake of his
head.
Your distracted brain had just begun to consider if this
might be a side effect of that potion he’d given you – a side effect you were
definitely NOT going to discuss with him – when he called your name.
“What are you doing?” he asked accusingly.
You suddenly realize you’re biting the quill instead of
writing with it, and your other hand is crumpling a label. “Um…”
Snape stood up, looking concerned, and started to walk
toward you.
Now you really couldn’t help but moan, as his robes did that
sexy flutter thing with every step of his long legs.
“Are you all right?” He had stopped so near to you that it
would have been so easy to reach out and touch him. You found that your eyes
were measuring the distance, your hand itching to cross that distance. “What
are you feeling?” he asked, curiously.
“I- I-” Your brain and mouth were fighting a war. You
knew what you wanted to say, what the real answer to his question was, but no
way were you going to say it. Then you did anyway. “I want you.”
Snape’s eyes, if you had been able to tear your gaze away
from his crotch long enough to see them, glowed with smug triumph.
“How much?”
You blinked. This wasn’t the response you had expected. Something
more in the realm of a biting turn down, or expulsion, but not this. Your
traitorous mouth didn’t seem to have any trouble with the question, though.
“So much.” You can barely get it out through a throat
constricted by a barely held back moan.
“Hmmm,” he said, and there was a note of warmth in that deep
sound that you had never detected in his voice before. “And what would you be
willing to do to have me?”
Another completely unexpected question. But again, you are
ready with the answer. Gazing up at him, you breathe, “Anything.”
He smiles then, looking darkly amused, and pleased.
“Unbutton your shirt.”
You are way past wondering at the surreality of this scene.
You meant it when you said you’d do anything to have him, and the sooner the
better. You hurry to loosen your tie and unfasten all the buttons of your
oxford shirt. He watches you carefully.
“Unhook your bra.”
Luckily it is the front hook kind, so you easily comply.
“Take off your panties.”
For this you have to stand, and when you do, your body is
nearly against his. So near it makes you whine, while he seems unmoved. Avoiding
his eyes, you reach up under your skirt and tug your panties down. This is harder
than it sounds, as your thighs are locked together, your feet crossed like a
toddler in need of a restroom, you are so aroused. But at last you manage.
“Kneel.”
With a sigh of relief, you nearly throw yourself down in
front of him. He’s going to let you touch him, oh, yes-
“Wait.”
You stop, both hands millimeters from his hips, your breath
rushing out of your nostrils in frustration. His own hands come up under yours
and it seems like an eternity as he undoes the too-many buttons of his waistcoat
from the bottom, just enough to reveal his fly, which he also undoes, until his
cock springs out in all its glory. Your mouth opens, watering for this treat,
but again he makes you wait.
“Beg for it.”
You gladly do.
“Please, Professor Snape, sir, may I taste you?”
“You may.”
You lick at the head, then try to take in the shaft, but it
is too long. You concentrate on the bulbous, uncircumcised tip, your eyes
closed, your saliva coming easily.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asks in his silky deep voice,
making you shudder. You nod. It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, you want
nothing more than to suck him all evening.
“But you want me to fuck you now, don’t you?”
You nod more vigorously. You want nothing more except for
that.
He pulls away. “Lay on the table.”
You spring up and throw yourself backwards onto one of the
long student tables. He approaches between your spread legs, but doesn’t quite
touch you.
“Fondle your breasts,” he orders.
For a moment he watches you pinching your nipples, which is
nice, but you want more. “Do you want me to beg?” you ask.
He raises an eyebrow and quirks a half smile, as though
pleased with you. “Yes.”
So you do. “Professor Snape, please fuck me with that big,
beautiful cock. I need to feel it inside me. I want you so badly.”
This seems sufficient, as he at last moves in, places the
head of his swollen cock against your opening, and thrusts forward.
You moan loudly, unconsciously gripping your breasts even
more firmly. His eyes are rooted to your hands as he fucks you with long
strokes. You are so aroused that you are soon shuddering, anticipating a
stunning orgasm. But he pulls out of you before lightning strikes.
“Turn over.”
You do so as quickly as you can, eager for him to be inside
you again. But it’s not your cunt he presses himself against. “Oh,” you gasp
as his slick head stretches you unfamiliarly.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks behind you.
You’re not so sure about this, but you still want him so
badly you’re willing to try anything. “No.” Then you add “Do you want me to
beg?”, since that pleased him before.
But his answer is unexpected. “No, I want you to scream.”
And he pushes further in. You do scream, but it is not so
much at the pain – though there is some of that – but at the pleasure, as your
sensitized nerves thrum with ecstasy at his touch. Seconds later you are
coming harder than you ever have before, thrashing against the table as he
holds you down by the hips, pounding into you. At last, through a haze, you hear
him grunt his own satisfaction and, a few thrusts later, pull out.
You do not move. Your limbs seem boneless. Through the
pulse still pounding in your ears, you hear Snape mutter something, and a
sensation like a feather flutters across you exposed ass and genitals, making
you suddenly clean and dry. It also removes that stretched, achy feeling in
your ass, and you feel a small pang of regret that there will be no physical evidence
of this incredible night.
“Get dressed,” his deep voice orders.
Slowly you push upright and start buttoning your blouse,
feeling awkward. You glance at him, but his back is turned. And what would
you say, anyway?
When you are finished dressing, you stand irresolutely,
waiting, wondering if the “speak only when spoken to” rule is still in effect,
or if things are different now. Snape has returned to his desk, ignoring you,
but after a minute, he notices.
“Sit,” he orders, motioning to the table where the labels
and bottles are, and you comply. You assume he means you to get back to
labeling bottles, as though nothing had happened. So you sit back down, and
pick up a quill, and try to write, but you keep going over what has just
happened in your mind, and can’t seem to focus on the label.
An unknown amount of time later, you hear your name being
called. You blink hazily. You must have dozed off.
“Do you even remember what you are supposed to be doing?”
Snape demands.
You glance down at the labeling supplies, only the faintest
notion coming to you. The last thing you remember is walking into the Potions
Classroom. After that, it is all a blur.
“Since you have not completed the simple task I set for you,
you will have detention again tomorrow. Dismissed.”
You walk out, ashamed at yourself for dozing off, sighing at
the prospect of another boring detention with Professor Snape.