Ensnaring the Senses

Ensnaring the Senses

Sometimes, Severus Snape found it difficult to keep his hands to himself. He didn't know exactly when it started, but every day the urge to touch someone was getting stronger. Anyone. It started with simple, unconscious touches; his hand on a shoulder, a warm pat on the back, and the most common one: body contact. This need was almost overwhelming when he was near a boy. Snape had discovered years ago that his preference was for the same sex. He had been with a few women, but none were as satisfying as the times spent with men. But that was so long ago. In fact, the last time he indulged in such a barbaric act was when he was still attending Hogwarts as a student. Indeed, that was a long time ago.

Snape wanted to find the reason why this was happening to him because this desire was intensifying with each passing day. He read book after book, but none of them held the answer. Or one that satisfied him anyway. Since there was no one he truly trusted enough to discuss this with, he battled internally, hoping that this demand was some sort of phase in his life that would diminish over time. Not likely, but it was a good thought to cling to.

On a dull Monday afternoon, Snape stood in front of his least favourite class; his least favourite because it contained Potter, Weasley, and Granger. The “Obnoxious Trio” as he called them. He had spent the entire weekend devising an agenda for the week because it had been impossible to concentrate, given his current frame of mind. He had, however, finally come up with a solution that just might work to his advantage.

“On your first day of Potions, I informed you that one of the things I could teach you to do is to ‘ensnare the senses’.”

The student’s eyes widened and soft murmurs filled the room.

“Silence,” Snape warned.

It became deadly silent and Snape smirked. He had taught them well.

“Of all the six senses, the sixth being the mind, we will be covering the basics of touch.”

Snape walked around to the back of his desk, and lifted up the blank screen hanging from the ceiling to reveal a blackboard underneath. Written on it in bold letters were: INJURY and HEALING. Beneath each word several ingredients were listed, along with instructions for the potions.

“There may come a time in your future endeavors that you will need these potions. Can anyone tell me why?”

He didn't have to turn around to know whose hand rose immediately. And yes, Hermione Granger answered correctly: If the enemy was caught, you could inflict pain to … motivate them. The other one was obvious: heal the injured.

“Now, you will be divided into pairs. Each one of you will make one of the potions while your partner makes the other.”

Snape determined the pairs of course. Malfoy and Weasley; Granger and Zabini; Potter and Longbottom... Just to name a few. Harry just knew Snape was just trying to set him up so he could fail. ‘Typical,’ Harry thought.

Wednesday finally came and it was time to test Longbottom’s potion. Grimacing, Harry thought Snape had given Neville the injury potion on purpose. Surely Snape wouldn't let the other boy kill him, would he? But, incredibly, all it did was cause Harry some minor pain, and even Snape was impressed. The other students had succeeded, as well. For the rest of the afternoon, their partners worked on the opposite potion - which would be tested on Friday. And yes, Severus Snape suspected Harry would botch it up.

Friday arrived and each tested their potion on their chosen partners. Everyone was successful save one couple: Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. Neville hit the floor and began convulsing, howling continuously. He was taken immediately to the hospital wing, and Snape approached Potter and his potion. He smelled the vile liquid and sneered at Potter. Harry knew what was coming next.

“Detention, Potter. Tonight.”

Harry was correct. Detention on a Friday evening.

Harry arrived at Professor Snape’s office precisely at 6:30, just after dinner. Before the boy could knock, the door opened wide and Snape, who was sitting behind his desk, motioned him in. Harry sat in the chair Snape had indicated and shifted impatiently; waiting for the storm to erupt. Instead, however, Snape stood and moved over to stand behind the Gryffindor boy, making Harry very uncomfortable. As for Snape, being this close to Potter was having a profound affect on him. He began opening and closing his fists to prevent him from grabbing the boy.

Taking long deep breaths, Snape managed to ask Harry if he knew what went wrong with his potion. The boy blushed, lowered his head and nodded. Snape arched his eyebrow and demanded that Potter tell him. With a big gulp, Harry explained that he had put too much mandrake in the potion. Snape was shocked that the boy actually knew what he had done wrong. When he asked how Harry had known this, the boy turned a darker shade of red and confessed that he did it on purpose. Snape became outraged and started yelling at the youth about how he could have killed Longbottom. Harry only nodded but then clutched Snape’s hand when the teacher threatened expulsion.

“Let go of me, boy!”

“No!” Harry shouted back. “Not after all the planning I’ve had to go through!”

Harry smiled seductively at Snape, and Snape then realised shockingly what Harry had done.

“You purposely endangered a student’s life to… to…” Snape didn't finish. He couldn’t.

“I didn’t realize that I overdid it that much!” Harry exclaimed.

“Do you understand that you could have died as well?” Snape hissed.

Harry went pale and barely nodded. Harry was still alive and his potion, still running through his veins, was five times stronger than it was intended. Snape had the capability to ward off the boy’s new sexual touch, but he knew there was more to this than a simple botched potion.

“What have you been doing to me, Potter?” the professor managed to ask.

Harry responded by squeezing Snape’s hand firmer. Snape tried to pull away, but the boy’s grip was abnormally strong. Waves of desire coursed through Snape, causing his head to reel back. He made one last effort to release himself, but he was too weak. Harry slowly rose to his feet, and stood just inches away from Snape’s body. Snape instinctively used his other hand to push the boy away, but that attempt was just as futile.

The older man peered down at the youth and scowled, but was greeted with a smile in return. Harry leaned into the tall, lanky body and stroked Snape’s rising erection. The Potions master hissed and unconvincingly ordered him to stop. Adding more pressure, Harry shook his head no and nipped at Snape’s ear.

“You cannot even fathom what I could do to you, boy,” Snape warned in a low voice.

Harry knew, or rather hoped, that his professor was referring to Harry’s body and not his expulsion. Taking a chance on the former, Harry gently squeezed the hardened flesh and whispered to him in a silky voice.

“Then show me.”

Snape quietly gasped and gazed into the emerald eyes. The Gryffindor boy was not joking. But neither was the Potions master. In an instant, Snape grabbed Harry’s hair, arching him backwards and bent down to him, lips grazing each other.

Enunciating each word, he asked again, “What have you been doing to me, Potter?”

Harry shook his head the best he could. He was thrown onto the floor and Snape mumbled, “Fine.”

Snape spun around and headed to a door in the corner. Funny that Harry had never noticed it before. He scrambled to his feet and followed his teacher into a darkened room. No sooner than Harry had entered, he was thrust against a wall, hitting his head hard.

“Is this what you want, Potter?” Snape growled in his ear.

Harry’s breath hitched and felt his hand forced upon a large, naked cock.

“Yes,” Harry gasped.

Snape snorted and pushed him down to his knees by his shoulders. Harry immediately began attacking Snape’s cock with licks of his tongue before devouring it deep within his throat. Fingers intertwined in Harry’s hair, and Snape held on to it as if his very life depended on it. The passion in Snape, that once lay dormant, was now alive and on fire. And even though it had been awhile, his maturity had taught him control. He could withhold his release for hours. And thinking of this, Snape smirked.

After a good fifteen minutes, Harry’s jaw began to hurt and his lips were red and swollen. When he noticed that Snape wasn't even close to an orgasm, he was beginning to believe those rumours he had heard regarding older men. He pulled away and sat back on his heels, wiping his spittle from his chin. The room was now dimly lit, and Harry looked up at Snape as if he lost the battle. Snape sneered and nodded his head as if he concurred. He pulled Harry to his feet, and nudged him in the direction of a large bed.

Harry wasted no time in disrobing and crawling onto the bedcovers. He watched as Snape strode over and removed his clothing with far more eloquence than he thought was possible. With every bit of new flesh being exposed, the boy’s mouth dropped down further. Having removed the last item from his body, Snape straddled Potter and raised the boy’s hands over his head and held them tight.

“This is your last chance boy,” the professor cautioned.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “And I’m ready.”

Instantly, Harry’s legs were spread, his knees bent, and a sudden weight was on top of him. Harry sighed and arched his back. This was exactly what Harry wanted.

“Open your eyes. This is what you wanted, Potter, so pay attention.”

Harry’s eyes shot open and he gasped sharply as his neck was bitten, and at the same time, a wet, cold finger entered him. Snape scoffed, feeling the boy was already prepared. Under his breath, he muttered, “Presumptuous brat,” and Harry smiled. But his smile turned into an ‘O’ as the tip of Snape’s cock breached his opening. The Gryffindor boy instinctively clenched his fists, and threw his head back with a moan.

Snape entered him so slowly that it became agonising for Harry. He began wriggling underneath the older man, but this only caused Snape to go slower. Harry tossed his head from side to side and bit back an impatient scream. When Snape stopped completely, Potter’s eyes and mouth snapped open. Snape was completely sheathed and was savouring it. Snape began again, slowly, before finally pounding into Harry. The boy’s hands latched onto his teacher’s forearm and he howled in ecstasy.

The sheets became soaked with sweat, and after what seemed like an eternity, Snape’s body tensed and he exploded inside Harry with a trembling yell. Harry had come a long time ago and was amazed that Snape had that much stamina. The older man collapsed on top of Harry, panting loudly in his ears.

“What did you do to me, Potter? Why did you? How did…?” Snape rasped.

“A spell with red jasper that I learned in Divination Class,” Harry replied, breathing equally hard. “It helps balance the energy in the body and… and the spell is for…for... it’s slow, but it took even longer with you,” the boy said. “And why…. Because it’s time you got laid,” Harry half-laughed. “And I wanted to be the one.”

“I’ll get you for this, Potter,” Snape mumbled into the pillow next to Harry’s head.

“Looking forward to it, sir,” Harry said smiling.


THE END

Roedhunt
2005