For the Good of the Order

I honestly don't know why I keep coming back to him. Well, I do know, but the reasons have absolutely nothing to do with my personal feelings for the situation.

What makes him any different than he was before I discovered he was a spy for the Order? “Hmph!” I snort. The Order. Everything I have done here lately has been for the good of the Order. That harsh realization brought my thoughts back to the matter at hand.

How could I possibly be attracted to Severus Snape? As long as I have known him, he has been nothing but a heartless bastard towards me. What makes me believe that a leopard can honestly change his spots?

Perhaps it's because he is the only man I know who will willingly attempt to slake this seemingly unnatural sexual need of mine, even if we are covertly doing this to aid Severus' spying for the Order. The fact that he has no qualms about giving me what I need because it satisfies something within him as well doesn't hurt the situation either.

As I am slowly descending the stairs, a million thoughts begin running through my mind. I can't keep up with this secrecy anymore: I'm lying to myself when I say I don't feel like a pawn in this demented game; I'm lying to my friends when I say that I am merely researching information to assist in the Order's ultimate victory against Voldemort. This is all slowly eating away at me. I wipe an errant tear from my eye, knowing if he sees it, he will be displeased.

I finally reach my intended destination, allow my eyes to do a quick sweep of the hallway, and knock softly on the office door. I know that I am expected, so his abrupt movements on the other side of the shut door do not startle me.

The door opened slowly and my Potions Master stuck his head out, doing his own quick visual search of the hall prior to admitting me. “Please come in Miss Granger” he said to me softly. He speaks quietly to me only when he is at the office door to facilitate my entrances and exits. He feels that this is one of the few kindnesses he can provide to me during these especially dark times.

When he closed the door behind me, he quickly placed powerful silencing and locking spells. It wouldn't do it we were discovered by an unsuspecting person.

I turned to look at him. He has a gentle air about him, almost as if he were apologizing for the pain he was about to inflict upon me. I gave him a look, trying to silently tell him that everything would be alright.

Truth be told, I rather enjoy the pain. As sick as it might sound, I get extremely aroused at his barbaric treatment of me. He knows that fact all too well and uses it to his advantage at every opportunity he is allocated. I enjoy the sting of the whip, the smite of the paddle, and the bite of his fingernails as they find purchase along my tender flesh.

The look in his eyes disappeared and was replaced by a cold, hard stare. “You know where you are supposed to go as soon as you enter my office. Get to it before I become displeased.”

I rushed to enter the open door to his private chambers. It is always the same: dark and foreboding. I can scarcely see a foot in front of my face, the torchlight is so dim. I quickly walk down the corridor to the right of the entryway.

The light is now completely gone, so I reach out my right hand and touch the wall. I feel my way along, counting the smooth stones. It was when I had counted the sixtieth stone that I felt that frame of the doorway to the 'pleasure room' as I like to call it. To the average person, I suppose it would be described as a torture room with its racks, manacles, and implements of pain. Even though there is a significant amount of pain involved, I can't help but derive pleasure from our late night appointments.

I become so aroused just at the thought of giving up control to him. I have become so accustomed to him yielding the leather against me that it acts for my stress in a similar way as my wand acts for my magic: as a channel or a conduit. It funnels out the emotion and anxiety that builds within me.

The moment I enter the room, I go to my special place by his chair and drop to my knees to await his instructions. He enters the pleasure room soon after me, closing and warding that door as well. “I'm pleased to see you obeying me without question for once. If there are no instances of your insolence perhaps a reward is in order. Now strip, completely bare, and go to your post.”

I quickly comply and rush over to the padded column in the middle of the room. This post, much like many other items throughout the room, has had slight alterations made to enhance my comfort. He sees this as a small concession he is allowed to make to ensure he doesn't truly break me.

This part of the entire scenario began when Voldemort ordered Snape to seduce and control me as Harry Potter's best friend and the brains behind the group. Voldemort wanted to break Harry down by having Snape control me. Our more recent nightly interactions started out as a way for Snape to have 'something' to show the Dark Lord, but it has obviously turned into so much more than that. I need these rendezvous as much as he does.

I place my hands on the post, bend over slightly, and cast my eyes downwards to await what is to come.

He is at the table which houses the various whips, paddles, and other devices. He begins to speak as he is selecting his tool. “What to chose? Hmm!” he says as he runs his hand across the items on the table. “Yes! Brings back some rather unpleasant memories. Did your parents ever make you pick out the implement for your whipping?” he asked as he held the long, slender branch of wood in his hand. He wasn't expecting me to answer, so he continued “My father would make me go outside to pull my own switch, straight from the tree, in some sort of twisted notion that I should have some say in my punishments. Oak trees abounded in our yard. Oak is the most unyielding wood on the planet. This, however” he continued as he stroked the switch almost reverently “is willow. Very flexible, springy, with a lot of give. Excellent choice for a whipping. You have been deserving of punishment ever since you set my robes on fire during that Quidditch match.” My eyes widened at this statement. “Oh yes, I know every single transgression you have ever made in the past seven years. I've been looking forward to this for a very long time.”

He ran the tip of the switch gingerly down my spine, caressing the swell of my bum right before he drew his arm back to facilitate the first blow. As the motion of his swing rent the air with a loud whoosh, I attempted to prepare myself for the sting. When the wood landed across my arse, I didn't feel much of anything at first with the exception of the rush of air as he brought down the thin wooden rod across my bottom. It wasn't until he raised his arm to strike me again that I truly felt the pain.

It started out as a slight stinging sensation then turned to a raging inferno when the switch was lifted off my arse. I had no idea that something so small could hurt so badly. It felt as if someone had hit my bum with an errant Incendio. Just when I had become accustomed to the brief pain, he brought down the switch again.

-SMACK!- “That is for setting my robes on fire!”

-SMACK!- “That if for stealing from my private stores!”

-SMACK!- “Badly messing up Polyjuice Potion!”

After the fourth blow I started to tremble, doing everything in my power to keep from sobbing or crying out.

-SMACK!- -SMACK!- -SMACK!- “Petrification! Illegal use of a time turner! Assisting that wretched mongrel Black!” These swats were given in quick succession, not allowing me the chance to really feel each one. My legs were shaking as I tried to bite back my protests.

-SMACK!- “Forming an unauthorized study group!”

-SMACK!- “Department of Mysteries!”

When he landed this blow, the tears I valiantly tried to hold back began coursing down my face.

-SMACK!- “Your”

-SMACK!- “incessant”

-SMACK!- “need”

-SMACK!- “to”

-SMACK!- “know”

-SMACK!- “every”

-SMACK!- “damn”

-SMACK!- “thing”

-SMACK!- “every”

-SMACK!- “damn”

-SMACK!- “day!”

When he was in the middle of my 'know-it-all' stripes, I was begging him to stop. My pleas went unheeded as he seemed to be in an uncontrollable rage while he finished my twenty strikes.

He turned away from me to replace the switch and reach for the healing salve he kept on his implement table. He discretely took a small handful of the paste. He drew his hand back and swatted my bum in an effort to appear to still be punishing me. He ran his hand across my arse, spreading the soothing balm along my welts. When he allowed it to run down the crack of my arse, I then knew what other activity would be taking place that night. When he finished rubbing the cream, he whispered the cleansing charms for his hand and my anus in preparation for what was to come.

He gripped my hip with one hand and ran his other along my fold, checking my wetness, and seeking my opening. “You are completely soaked” he said as he eased two fingers into my channel. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked as he pumped his fingers in and out of my sex.

“Yes sir” I whispered.

“Hmm. Interesting. Then perhaps that will serve as your reward.” He removed his fingers from my dripping pussy and used their wetness to prepare my arse.

I tensed when I felt his damp fingers encircle my rosebud. “I take it you have never been penetrated here before” he said as he prodded my rear entrance.

I shook my head before he continued.“Excellent. I missed the opportunity to take you vaginal virginity, but this one” he emphasized his words with the ministrations of his hand “will be just as enjoyable.” What he was saying was almost a complete lie. We had been involved in a secret relationship since the Order suggested to Snape that he allow me to be his assistant.

Long before Voldemort ever ordered Snape to seduce me, he already had. He took my true virginity, which I willingly gave. He needed my maiden's blood for an extremely powerful healing draught he was creating for the Order. So, needless to say, this current situation was not the first time I had 'taken one for the team,' even though the 'team' was unaware of my contributions.”

As he probed my anus, he muttered a wandless Lubros to facilitate my easy acceptance of his fingers. I let out a low hiss as his finger slowly moved past my muscular anal ring with relative ease.

“Relax!” he ordered. “Otherwise this will hurt significantly” he snapped as he slowly drew his finger out before quickly plunging back in. “Or do you want that? You want me to hurt you, don't you? That's what gets you off isn't it?” he sneered as he roughly shoved in another finger. “You're a sick, twisted little Mudblood who gets off on pain, aren't you?”

I wasn't offended at his use of the word 'Mudblood.' Coming from him, it's almost a term of endearment because I know there is no malice behind it. He says it only when we are engaged in these late night meetings, strictly for Voldemort's benefit.

“Answer me!” he bellowed.

“Yes sir” I said meekly. I this room I am only allowed to address him as 'sir,' never 'professor' as it reminds him that I am still his student even though I am of age. I am most certainly not to call him 'Master' as it hits too close to home regarding his services to Voldemort and Dumbledore.

“Ah! A closet masochist” he said as he shoved his fingers deeper into me. I began to whimper as his thrusting sent shock waves of pleasure throughout my body. He quickly opened his robes and made short work of his trousers.

He removed his hand from my hip, gathered lubrication from my soaking core, and began stroking himself to prepare his cock.

“Bend over Mudblood. I'm ready for you” he said to me as I angled my body for easier access. He rubbed his rock hard cock against my leaking center, further lubricating himself.

I moaned “Please sir.”

“Please what?”

I knew exactly what to say to perpetuate our continuing lie. “Please fuck me sir. Hurt me. I've been a very naughty Gryffindor.”

“Only because it pleases me” he said as he removed his fingers and nudged my slicked rear entrance with the head of his cock.

As he eased in, inch by inch, the pain grew more intense. There was a tearing, burning sensation all throughout my lower half. “Oh dear Gods! Please sir!” I begged. I pleaded with him, anything to ease my extreme discomfort.

He hissed as he shoved his cock deeper still. “Yes! Take it all! Take every inch of me” he moaned as he buried himself to the hilt in my rectum.

He stilled all movement, allowing me the briefest of moments to become accustomed to the sensation of being filled by him.

When I relaxed, he took the initiative and began fucking me in earnest.

“Yes my little Mudblood” he hissed as he started slapping my arse. I moaned with each stroke and smack.

“You like that don't you? You're getting off on me fucking you raw, aren't you? You twisted little Gryffindor! Uhn! Yes!” he bellowed as he thrusted harder and deeper.

His left hand slid around my waist and located my prominently swollen bundle of nerves. He thrummed my clit fast and furiously as his cock and hand continued their assaults on my bum.

I was overwhelmed by all of the sensations I was experiencing: the pulsing in my clit, the tingling of my nipples, the fullness and burning of my arse. I was on sensory overload. With his bollocks slapping against my swollen sex, I was thrown over the precipice. I screamed as my orgasm ripped through my body. “Ahh! Oh Gods!” I wailed as my muscles clamped down on his cock.

“Uhn!” he moaned as he continued thrusting. “Yes!” He quickly pulled out right as his orgasm began. He stroked his cock, spraying his seed all over my back and buttocks. As he milked the rest of his semen from his cock, he spread it around my back.

“How does that feel Mudblood? To be covered in my seed?” he sneered as he straightened his trousers and robe.

“Get dressed” he yelled at me prior to exiting the room. I made my way slowly to my robe and grabbed my wand to perform a thorough cleansing spell. I quickly dressed and winced as I left the room. When I met him in the entryway to his office, he handed me a healing draught to be taken before I left. I downed the contents, handed him the empty vial, and turned towards the door.

“Miss Granger!” he barked to get my attention. I stiffened before I turned to look up at him.

“Yes sir?” I asked, fearful of what he was about to say. I looked at him, my eyes near overflowing with unshed tears. Will this be the moment when he tells me that it's over, that I am no longer of any use to him?

“Hermione.” He spoke my name softly, as if he were trying to comfort me. “It won't always be like this for you. You will find someone you won't need to equate sex with pain. When you have finished your NEWTs, graduated from this insane place, and facilitated the Dark Lord's defeat, you will have the opportunity to find someone you truly care for to show you what making love is all about.”

“What if I want that someone to be you?”

He reached out and caressed my face as he said “Not now Hermione. Perhaps when this is all over and we manage to win this war with both of our lives intact, if you still feel for me as I feel for you, then I can show you what it is really like.”

His statement renewed my diminishing hope. “So, until then?” I asked as if my life depended upon his answer.

He opened the door, did his usual scanning of the corridor, and spoke once more. “Until then” he told me, reassuring me that I was not a fool to believe that we could have something more, something beyond the madness that encapsulates us.

As the door clicked shut behind me, I felt as if I could conquer the world. Once Voldemort was dead, I would be able to focus on my Professor's promise. “Until then” I reassured myself as I rushed down the corridor.
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A/N: Thanks for reading and please rate &/or review!