So I Married a Dominatrix

“Yes, Mistress Pain,” Snape groaned as the lash struck the already raw skin on his bare back.

“How much?!” the young woman demanded, her voice ringing from the shadows. “Tell me how bad you’ve been, Professor.”

The strip of large-scaled dragon hide stung Snape’s skin and he twitched, almost convulsed, though his Mistress was pleased to see his rigid staff lengthen impressively.

“I am not worthy of you,” Snape panted. “I am slime, mildew on your exalted cauldron.”

“Yes,” the woman hissed, and brought down the whip across Snape’s pale shoulders. He grimaced, but did not scream, and a drop of fluid pooled at the tip of his erection. He was manacled, spread-eagle against the cold dungeon wall, and the click of heeled boots rang as the woman approached.

“Have you been very bad, Professor?” the woman asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” Snape groaned, and the final blow of the whip sent his body convulsing, spilling his seed against the wall, before he fell unconscious.

* * *

“Severus, Severus wake up,” she crooned.

Severus cracked one eye open and looked into the face of an angel in the morning light. He was wrapped in a cocoon of sheets, warmth and light surrounding him. He smiled, or rather he smirked, but it was close enough.

Rose lips parted, showing a row of white, even teeth. A delicate, heart-shaped face was framed with tousled, bushy brown hair. “You’ll be late,” Hermione said. “Now sit up so I can apply the salve.”

Severus became aware of the ache in his body, the sting of pain which spread across his back. He groaned as he sat, and winced as cooling potion was smoothed across his tender skin.

“I believe you are beginning to enjoy that,” Severus said with a smirk, and Hermione’s hands were rough for a moment, drawing a gasp from her victim.

“And why shouldn’t I?” she asked. “I kept clean all seven years at Hogwarts. I’ve accomplished my goals, I can have some fun if I want. There’s nothing in the rules which says faculty can’t…have relationships.”

Her hands gentled again. Severus still boggled at the series of events which had led to their unusual relationship. One day, their little battle of wits had simply…sparked something, and before he knew it, he was enjoying the most satisfying relationship he’d never imagined.

“You’re done,” Hermione said, and rose from the bed, Severus’s eyes following her lush body across the room. She made him feel young, made him forget for a moment that he loathed everyone equally.

“I have a free period after Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Hermione said, pulling up her black lace thong. Her brown eyes glittered invitingly.

Severus felt his body harden. He’d be topping himself off the moment she left. “I happen to have a free period after Potions,” he replied, slipping out of bed.

Hermione’s eyes focused on his jutting manhood and her rosy nipples swelled. “I’ll meet you in the staff lounge,” she said, her gaze meeting his.

* * *

Severus walked toward the staff lounge in high spirits, though his trademark scowl sufficiently hid the fact. He went over the afternoon’s plans; Severus would whisk Hermione away to the dungeons, and the next two hours would be spent in blissful torment. He hardened at the thought and pushed open the lounge door.

Immediately, Severus’s erection died. Hermione sat laughing with none other than Ron Weasley.

The two stopped chatting and looked up. Hermione smiled brightly, and Ron blanched. Nice to see I’ve still got it, Severus thought.

“Ron was touring with the Chudley Cannons when he heard about Madam Hooch’s retirement. He’s come to replace her. Isn’t that wonderful?” Hermione gushed.

Oh yes. I simply adore having my lover’s ex-boyfriend nearby. Severus merely scowled. Ron paled further. That’s right. Fear me. Severus was pleased to see Ron shrink slightly in his seat.

Hermione, always perceptive, shot him a withering glare more suited to their nighttime activities. Severus dropped his gaze from Ron.

“May I have a word with you, Hermione?” Severus asked, the throaty tone in his voice hardly noticeable.

“Not today,” Hermione responded. Severus’s eyes widened a fraction. Outside the dungeons, he held dominion. Severus dared to probe Hermione’s mind, but she was a superb Occlumens, and he was able to see nothing.

Hermione had turned to Ron and continued their conversation, ignoring Severus. Ron shifted uncomfortably, not much changed from the gangly child he’d been mere years ago. Now Ron was available to Hermione, and already Severus had been set aside. He glowered fiercely, but got no reaction from Hermione. Finally, he strode from the room, cloak billowing, the afternoon’s lust efficiently quashed.

* * *

Later that night, while Severus tightened the ribbons on the back of Hermione’s violet satin and black lace corset, he brought up the topic which had been bothering him all day.

“Do you love him?”

Hermione grunted as the corset squeezed the air out of her lungs, accentuating her tiny waist. “Of course I do,” she snapped, and grunted again as the corset was pulled yet tighter. “As a friend, Severus.”

Severus was mollified, but only slightly. He’d never known Hermione to lie, but worse treacheries had been done by lesser people. Me, for one. Severus let himself slip into the proper mood, reflecting upon the hardships and failures of his life. He stripped naked while Hermione buckled her heeled leather boots, and together they walked into the adjoining room.

Severus stood against the wall, leaning his forehead against the cool, damp stone. Hermione fastened the manacles to his wrists and ankles, and he sank into memory.

“Are you ready, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, Mistress Pain.” That slipup would guarantee an especially harsh treatment tonight. Snape fixed an image of his father into his mind, and the first blow struck, sending pain through his shoulders. Snape remained silent, thinking instead of Dumbledore, ever faithful Dumbledore.

“You’ll pay for your treachery! Are you ready to give in?”
This was part of the game. Snape stayed silent, and she lashed him again. The visions came faster, and with each slice of pain in his shoulders, he forgot the pain of his past.

* * *

Severus nearly ran into Draco in the corridors the next day. “What are you doing indoors?” Severus sneered. “Shouldn’t you be tending to some flobberworms?”

Draco glared. “It’s not my fault that Hogwarts is the only place that would take me,” he said. “Just because father got himself in trouble.”

Severus glared. “And your actions had nothing to do with that, I suppose. Lucky for you that Hagrid moved to France with Madame Maxime, or you’d not have gotten the Care of Magical Creatures position either.”

Draco scowled. Here was another who hadn’t changed much in the past years. “The Headmaster would have made me a position if he hadn’t been able to find me one.”

“Ah, yes. Your history with our illustrious Headmaster. How could it have slipped my mind?”

“You’re just jealous,” Draco said petulantly.

“Homosexual tendencies do not interest me in the least,” Severus drawled. “But your relations with the Headmaster are not my concern.”

Draco smirked. “The Headmaster wishes to see you,” he said, and Severus glared at him. “So go speak with your superior.”

Severus let the comment slide, though a vein pulsed at his neck. “And you, Draco…go play with your flobberworms.” This comment coaxed Draco into the perfect shade of vermilion, and Severus strode toward the Headmaster’s office.

* * *

Severus knocked, and a voice from within called out, “Enter, Snape.” Severus sighed as he opened the door. Only two people still called him Snape. Hermione, during their nighttime adventures, and Harry Potter, the youngest Headmaster Hogwarts had ever had.

“You wished to see me, Headmaster?” Severus drawled.

Harry gestured to a chair across from his desk, the one on which Severus had once found Harry with Draco in a most compromising position.

Harry leaned back slightly in his chair and pushed a shock of black hair back on his head, which immediately sprang back up. “You can stop jabbing Draco about the two of us,” he said.

“Headmaster, I…”

“Yes, you do understand, Snape, and you must remember that I’m a better Legilimens than you.”

That, and Draco’s been complaining. If father can’t fix it, ask your boyfriend.

“Actually, Draco is no longer…in that position,” Harry said.

Severus didn’t know whether to be relieved, or disgusted that they were having this conversation at all.

“Have you seen Ron yet?” Harry asked.

Severus wondered at this jump in logic. Harry usually harped on one topic until Severus was about ready to throttle him. “I have,” Severus said. “He was with Hermione in the staff lounge.”

Harry gave Severus an all-too-knowing look, very reminiscent of Dumbledore. Though there was no proof, not so much as speculation in the staff in general, Harry did seem to know everything.

“And Hermione?” Harry asked.

Severus paused a moment, then spoke slowly. “She seems much the same, though one cannot always tell. She has become rather…unpredictable.”

Harry nodded. “Thank you, Severus,” he said.

Severus paled. Since when were they on a first-name basis? “Yes, Headmaster,” he replied, and left the office wondering.

* * *

It was in the free period after double potions that Thursday that Severus began thinking in depth about his relationship with Hermione. He was well pleased with the way things were going, but Ron was quite a thorn in his side. If only there were something he could do to cement Hermione to him.

Marriage. The only way to make it illegal for Hermione to have sex with other men.

* * *

Severus sat on the edge of the bathtub, the simple gold band in his palm. He stared at it, then aimed his wand and thought, Engorgio. The ring swelled, and he pulled open his trousers, then slipped the ring on his 21st digit. He pulled his trousers shut again and left the bathroom.

“I’m ready,” he told Hermione, and helped her tie on Thursday’s corset, which was red velvet with black leather trim. When she was dressed, he stood in the center of the floor, unmoving.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” she asked impatiently, picking up her riding crop.

“I think I’ll let you do that tonight,” he said with a smirk.

Hermione pursed her lips, apparently deciding whether to be annoyed or aroused at this twist. She decided on arousal and pulled her wand from its sheath on her thigh. His clothes began to rip at the seams, dropping piece by piece to the floor.

Severus allowed himself to become fully aroused, and when his cock was exposed, it stood tall and proud, the engagement band snug around its base. “Marry me,” he said, and pulled the ring off, then shrunk it back to its right size.

Hermione had dropped her wand and the whip, and crossed to Severus. She slapped him across the face, then kissed him so fiercely that he nearly came right then and there. Her hand wrapped through his, and as she pulled away, she took the ring and slipped it on her finger. She smiled, then looked up at Severus. “This doesn’t exempt you from tonight,” she said, and he knew he’d made the right decision.

* * *

Snape’s back streamed rivulets of crimson, and the wall was spattered from the five times he had already found release tonight. She kept him awake this time, not allowing unconsciousness to take him.

“YOU LIE!” she yelled, and he could feel his staff swelling again.

“I’m sorry, Mistress!” he pleaded.

“What did you say?” He felt the familiar sting, and grimaced.

“Forgive me, Mistress Pain!”

“You are beyond redemption!” Snape felt the sting again, and a trickle sliding down his spine.

“Yes, Mistress Pain!” Snape called, but it was not enough. There was no escaping the delirious pain. The whip cracked, and Snape came again, his grimace turning to a grin as he fell at last into darkness and oblivion.

* * *

“You know he’s gay, right?” Hermione asked.

Severus was puzzled. “The Headmaster?”

“For a Prince of Potions, you’re pretty thick sometimes. I meant Ron, Severus.”

Now Severus was truly confused. “But you dated.”

“Yeah, and Harry dated Ginny, and Draco dated Pansy. You grow up, you learn things about yourself, you move on. Well, most of us do.”

Severus’s eyes narrowed. Hermione was becoming more and more openly bossy. More like the girl he’d thought he despised for being a know-it-all. Of course, he was still determined to marry her. Then, at least he’d have her to himself.

“So he’s not here for you?” Severus asked, and Hermione chuckled.

“Of course not,” she said, her voice gentling. She laid her hand across his. “He’s back for Harry.”

Things began to fall into place for Severus. Harry and Ron’s closeness, Hermione’s breakup with Ron after the fall of the Dark Lord and Harry’s breakup with Ginny after Dumbledore’s death. Severus had always thought that about Draco, but Harry and Draco had obviously been no more than a release for sexual tension.

“He doesn’t realize it, though,” Hermione said.

“What?”

Hermione sighed, then spoke as if explaining something to a child. “Ron is back for Harry, but he doesn’t realize his true feelings. He loves Harry more than friends usually do, but he hasn’t put two and two together yet. Harry dumped Draco when Ron applied for the job, but Ron still…just doesn’t get it!”

Severus closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to deal with this.

“But Harry won’t be happy until he has Ron,” Hermione finished.

Severus didn’t know why, but he had a sudden idea. His first instinct was to ignore it. Why he didn’t was beyond him, but he spoke anyway. “Take them to the Three Broomsticks,” he said, “and order some Mandrake wine. Then slip away.”

Hermione thought a moment. “I want to tell them about us,” she said. “They’ll figure it out anyway, and I’m sure Harry already knows. You have to come too.” She smiled wickedly. “Perhaps we can be some inspiration.”

Merlin, no! Not a double date with Harry and Ron! Unfortunately, Hermione had a good point, and if he wanted to continue to receive the same level of treatment he’d been getting lately, he would cooperate no matter what.

* * *

The four sat at a round table, Ron and Severus awkward, Harry’s eyes twinkling knowingly, and Hermione blathering about Goblin politics. Hermione had maneuvered the conversation toward Ron and Harry’s school days as much as possible, occasionally tossing in a healthy dash of innuendo.

Harry had congratulated Severus and Hermione profusely on their engagement, and Ron had seemed content to listen, though Severus did notice a look of longing in Ron’s eyes whenever directed toward Harry.

The bottle of Mandrake wine was nearly drained when Hermione leaned over to Severus and kissed him indecently. He decided to play up his role and slipped his hand onto Hermione’s breast, kneading it until the tip firmed. When she pulled back, her eyes were somewhat glazed, and Severus heard a slight cough. Harry looked innocent enough, but somehow his chair had moved closer to Ron’s.

“It’s late,” Severus said. “Rosmerta prepared some rooms for us upstairs. Unfortunately, there were only two rooms available, and at opposite ends of the corridor.”

Harry’s eyes twinkled. “I hope you two would not object to sharing a room, since you’re engaged,” he said.

“Of course not,” Hermione answered, and stood. “You can finish that wine, I’m turning in.”

Severus stood as well and excused them.

That night, they slept. Severus’s body ached for her, and it was not enough that their limbs were entwined. Soon enough, he thought.

* * *

When Severus and Hermione left the upper rooms the next morning, Rosmerta wore a smirk of satisfaction. “It seems that Ron was not at all averse to there being only one bed in that room,” she said.

Severus was pleased. He was unsure exactly when he had become personally interested in Harry’s happiness, but now that he was, he was determined to make…certain things…happen.

* * *

Severus found himself quite free of Draco’s annoyance. He wondered if Pamona Sprout was thinking about retirement. Draco had been seen around the greenhouses quite often lately. In fact, he’d moved his classes right beside the main greenhouse, in full view of the Herbology classes, should one choose to look outside. Herbology was quite a step up from Care of Magical Creatures, but Severus had never known Draco to be particularly interested in plants. Of course, he’d never known Draco to be particularly interested in anything other than himself.

Hermione had made an announcement to the staff, and though many looked as though they wanted to make a snide comment, Harry of all people silenced them by announcing his blessing. This show of faith could have made Severus quite uncomfortable, but instead, he chose to feel a wave of relief.

Hermione made his nights a sort of dark Heaven, and Severus was eager for their wedding night, when they could at last consummate their relationship. Hermione, bad as she was sometimes, insisted that she was a good girl, and refuted all claims to the contrary with a pledge of her virginity.

It was true that Severus had never actually had sex with her, even through all the other things they’d done. In fact, though Severus would never admit it, he was a virgin as well. Not for lack of trying, of course, but he really hadn’t been popular in his school days, and by adulthood, loneliness and celibacy were just a part of life for him.

* * *

It was several weeks after the double date that Severus was summoned to the Headmaster’s office once more. He entered to see Harry and Ron both standing near the fireplace, watching the flames. They turned at Severus’s entry, and he knew even before they spoke.

“Congratulations,” Severus said. Harry grinned broadly, and Ron smiled sheepishly.

“You can call me Harry, Severus,” Harry said.

“Congratulations, Harry.” Just saying it seemed to reduce the awkward wall that had been raised when Harry was made Headmaster.

“Thanks, mate,” Ron said, and gave Harry such a loving look that Severus nearly vomited.

Harry’s eyes twinkled again. “I’d like you to be my best man,” he said.

“What?” Severus choked.

Harry smiled. “For a Prince of Potions, you’re pretty thick sometimes.”

Severus nearly smiled back.

“Stand up with me, Severus,” he said, and Severus nodded. Why the hell not?

* * *

The sun shone on rippling green grass, on rows of heads and hats, masses of witches and wizards congregating for the spectacle. The white tomb stood not far off, a sentinel watching over the proceedings. Severus stood at the head of the aisle, buttoned into his most vibrant black, buttons shining. To his right was Hermione, wearing robes of pure white glittering with embroidered beads, her hair smoothed and curled perfectly.

To Hermione’s right was Harry, decked in Gryffindor red, and Ron, wearing a subtle shade of grey. To Ron’s right was Draco Malfoy, wearing black robes with stark white trim. Beside Draco stood Pomona Sprout, wearing a friendly shade of spring green.

The weddings were a success. Each couple had prepared its own vows. Severus and Hermione’s were simple, yet eloquent declarations of devotion to one another. Harry and Ron’s were deeply moving statements about true love and lifemates. Draco and Pomona had been a surprise to all, but their vows revealed a hidden love which had blossomed under the watchful gaze of the sun.

The reception was a fantastic party. Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes exploded right and left, a gift from Ron’s brothers. Severus and Hermione danced only with one another, and slipped away from the festivities early into the night.

They hurried to their chambers in the dungeons and tore off their clothes, ready to at last let desire consume them. Severus pressed Hermione into the bed, kissing and touching her until she begged him to come to her.

She was tight and ready for him, and he wondered if she would be able to handle his length. She braced her hands against his shoulders and he thrust in, past the barrier of her maidenhood to her core. She was a perfect fit, and it was better than he had ever imagined it could be. It was even better than flagellation.

Several hours later, Hermione and Severus rode to their release together, their bodies shaking as they reached climax. Severus, utterly spent, collapsed onto Hermione, then rolled to her side. He caught his breath and looked at her, the woman who was his forever. She was more than he ever could have dreamed, intelligent, independent, and incredibly sexy. Before he knew what he was saying, he had propped his head on his hand and spoken.

“I love you, Hermione.” As he said it, he was shocked, but not because it had come out. Rather, he was shocked that it had taken him so long to realize he loved her. He smiled and tested, the words coming so easily that he knew how very true they were. “I love you.”

Hermione smiled and closed her eyes, sinking into the pillows. “I know.”