Language, Miss Granger

This is a story all about language and the power of words. Although, at any other time, the words employed by Snape would insult and alienate the recipient, for this moment they can only turn Hermione on. The introduction is in the present tense, but the main body of the story then shifts into the past.

It takes place after the war. Hermione has returned at the age of nineteen to take her NEWTs. Snape simply, and conveniently, did not die and is still Potions Master.

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Hermione has returned to Hogwarts to take her NEWTs. Snape has survived and is still Potions Master. Late in the year, a friend wakes her one night asking for her help to relieve her severe stomach cramps. Hermione knows full well what potion will alleviate her friend’s symptoms. Surely she can risk a surreptitious little night-time trip to the Potions Master’s store cupboard to retrieve the vital ingredients? Under cover of darkness, Hermione sneaks down to the dungeons and unlocks the cupboard with confident and precise magic. The dungeons leading to Snape’s classroom are still and silent. Spotting the ingredients she needs, she reaches up to a high shelf, confident that she has got away with her clandestine escapade ...

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“Miss Granger.”

Hermione screamed, spinning around to find Severus Snape standing two feet behind her.

“Professor!”

“And what ... exactly ... do you think you are doing?”

“I ... I just ... I was ... nothing ... I ...”

“Your command of the English language is staggering as ever.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I was acting out of necessity.”

“Necessity?”

“Yes. A friend of mine was feeling unwell.”

“The school has a hospital wing, Miss Granger. It is not common practice for students to avail themselves of expensive, rare and ... highly dangerous ... substances from locked and private store cupboards. But then, it is ...you ... after all. I find myself somewhat predictably unsurprised and distinctly ... unimpressed.”

“Madam Pomfrey was busy with an emergency and I knew the exact ingredient which would help alleviate my friend’s symptoms, so ...”

“You thought you would help yourself?”

“It was wrong. I really am sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“I should think not.”

She made a move to leave, but just as she passed him, his arm flew out to the side, leaning on the shelves beside him, blocking her path.

“I haven’t finished ... yet.”

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear. He was sure to put her in a long and arduous detention. But he said nothing, instead simply held her gaze. She looked from one black eye to the other. A strange tension was starting in her depths. She inhaled deeply, noticing again that strong pungent aroma which pervaded the small darkened room. She took a step back, he took a step forward, closing the distance she had opened up.

“You did not think you would be able to leave with no repercussions whatsoever, did you, Miss Granger?”

She was moving ever further into the storeroom, being pushed back by his persistent steady steps towards her. His presence loomed over her, his black eyes alight, his spicy aroma adding to the smells already hanging luxuriantly in the air around them. Hermione’s belly twisted, but not with fear. She knew what it meant. She did not try or want to deny it.

At last she could go no more and jolted against a jagged edge of the shelves behind.

“Fuck!” The word was hissed instinctively under her breath.

Snape’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise.

“Miss Granger. You are caught red-handed trying to steal from my private potions store and now you exacerbate your situation by employing foul language. How very unfortunate.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You are in a lot of trouble, Miss Granger ... a lot. And yet, I do not detect remorse in either your posture or your voice. Are you indeed ... contrite ... Miss Granger?”

She did not reply. He had leant into her, and had brought his mouth close to her ear, his robes brushing against her fingers. She closed her eyes, swaying with the sudden desire which threatened to engulf her.

“You are not in the slightest, are you? I know exactly what you want, Miss Granger. I can feel it. I can sense it.” His voice came deep and low, snaking into her mind. “I can smell the lust in your soaking little Mudblood ... cunt.”

Her eyes darted to his in shock. He held her stare under hooded lids, his mouth open a little to pull in his own deep breaths. His hand was down, under her skirt, parting her legs and slipping up the inside of her thighs. She did nothing to stop him. She swallowed hard, willing him higher.

His fingers were at her knickers, and before she knew it had slipped under the elastic and had found her. Sliding effortlessly along her already soaking folds, he spoke as low and smooth as ever. “There. How right I was. What a dirty Gryffindor slut you are, so wet and ready.”

Two fingers slid up into her. His voice continued, low and smooth, as sensuous as thick dark chocolate yet laced with dirty erotic liquor.

“And tight, witch. Do you feel that, do you feel my fingers fucking you, fucking your pleasure from that hot sweet cunt? You don’t want me to stop, do you? You don’t want me to take my fingers out of your pussy. You want more. Your clit wants me, doesn’t it? It’s on fire, burning in desperate throbbing need. It wants to feel me rubbing, grinding, circling and stroking it. Doesn’t it?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

His fingers slipped from her sodden pussy and ran up through the wet folds to find the object in question. She drew in a gasp as pleasure tightened its grip on her body.

“What a dirty, dirty thing you are, allowing your professor to finger your ripe little clit. How long have you wanted this, my depraved little Gryffindor? Hmm .. ? How long have you dreamt of my body on yours, of my mouth tasting your delicious flesh?”

She merely groaned in response as he put his words into effect, dropping his head to her exposed neck and sucking and nuzzling at the soft skin he found there. All the while, his fingers continued their perfect attentions to her pussy and clit. They strummed over her, sometimes as light as a feather, and then when he sensed her hitching breath, harder, deeper and faster, to build her perfectly towards the moment of release.

“Now ... come for me my little wet whore, come on my fingers, let me feel your pussy sucking my fingers up into that perfect body of yours. Come ... come ... come ...”

She did. With a shuddering gasp of pleasure, she juddered around him, gripping his shoulders hard as her ecstasy washed over her. Snape pushed three fingers hard up into her and let out a groan of his own as he felt her tight pussy clenching upon him.

At length she settled and slumped. Snape extracted his fingers but still kept his long body hot and tight close to hers. He glanced down at her with dismissive smoothness. “What would your friends think of you now, Miss Granger? What would they think to learn that your cunt had just come frantically fucking the fingers of your professor? Hmm?”

She did not answer, but looked at him with bleary eyes. Then, instinctively, urgently, they dropped, her gaze falling between his legs.

“What now, Miss Granger? More? Still not satisfied? There are words for girls like you – nymphomaniac, sex addict, or simply ... slut. I know what you want, you dirty little hussy. I know exactly what your desperate body, your sweet tight pussy wants. It wants this, doesn’t it?”

He had taken her hand and brought it to rest between his legs. Hermione gasped. Even through the thick layers of his clothing, she could feel him large and as hard as rock, straining for his own release. Snape hissed as her hands rubbed along the concealed length.

“Yes, yes, you Gryffindor whore, that’s right. Do you feel it? Do you feel how hot and hungry it is? You can’t wait can you? Can’t wait to feel it filling you, stretching you, fucking you? Now, do as you are told. Release it. Take it and stroke it. Hold it hard and feel all you have coming to you.”

Hermione glanced down, a moan of need escaping her, and fumbled to release him. He did nothing to assist her.

“That’s right, you Mudblood slut. Luckily your fingers are more nimble than your sluggish mind.”

With that he swayed out into her hands. His insult drew a sudden animosity mixed with further unstoppered lust. She grabbed him hard in her fingers, her nails scratching a little. He hissed.
“Careful, you little bitch, don’t let your temper run away with you; we must all learn to channel our passions appropriately.”

She looked back up at him, her eyes glazing with desire. He allowed himself a slight smirk as her hand came up to rub over the smooth head of his large erect cock. Hermione groaned again with bliss at the object in her hands and started to ply it with agile dexterity, drawing a relentless leaking of moisture from the tip. Snape sucked in a sharp breath; a rattling grunt caught in his chest.

“That’s right, that’s right ... feel it, tight, tighter, yes. How long have you dreamt of that, Miss Granger? I’ve watched, I’ve seen you: every lesson, pretending to apply yourself so ardently, trying to impress, trying to better your fellow pupils, when all you could ever really focus on was this, holding it in your hands, in your cunt ... in your mouth ...” His voice was murmuring deep and smooth into her ear again, his lust channelling it like a ribbon of silk into her mind.
“You want to taste, don’t you? ... Don’t you?”

“Uh huh.” She could only groan, her hand continuing to pump him hard. He was struggling to control himself.

“Open your mouth. Your primped and preened lips are crying out to have me between them; never have I seen such a brazen proclamation of need. Red and wet and open. Now do it. Do it. Suck me. Suck me so hard into that hot wet mouth of yours. You want to taste my cum, don’t you? You want to feel me spilling hard onto your thirsty little Gryffindor tongue.”

She could only groan, trying to bend her knees, but he held her up. “Don’t you?”

“Yes ... yes, sir.”

“Down.” He practically pushed her to her knees.

Her mouth gaped and she closed around him, sucking her cheeks in tight around him, swirling her tongue around the delicious taste of his manhood, which was seeping relentlessly.

“Yes, yes, you desperate trollop. At least we’ve found something you’re good at. You couldn’t wait for me to fuck your mouth, could you? Couldn’t wait to feel my hard Slytherin cock sinking deep into your tight throat. Take it now, take it all. I’m going to come into you so hard you won’t know what’s hit you.”

Hermione went at him like a woman starved. Never had reason been pushed so far into the dim recesses of her mind by blind lust. At that point she existed solely for his cock, and anything he said merely pushed her to take him faster and deeper, sucking him hard, letting him push back into her throat itself. At one point she gagged and pulled back, gasping for breath.

“Too much, witch? I think not. You want all of me, I know you do. Open and do it again.”

This time she relaxed fully, tilting her head a little. He pushed slowly in, a sharp hiss escaping him as he went, until he sank completely into her mouth. Snape groaned aloud then began moving, pumping in and out of her hard and deep.

“Yes, yes, yes, you exquisite Mudblood. Now you’ll get what you want. Hold it in your hand but keep the head in your mouth. Suck it hard. Harder. Grip it, pump it. Yes, that’s it, that’s it. Fuck, what a beautiful little cum slut you are. I’m coming now, do you hear? Feel it, feel it, take it all ... open, open ...”

She gaped her mouth for him and with long grunts his seed exploded from the round purple head of his turgid cock, coating her tongue and lips with thick white streaks.

Snape stepped back giddily, steadying himself on a shelf behind. He was breathing deeply, his gaze still directed down at the panting woman before him, her face stained with the remnants of his ecstasy. But then with sudden determination he reached down a hand. Hermione looked faintly bemused for a moment before taking it and allowing him to pull her to her feet. Snape stepped into her again and spoke, a single word, thick with the erotic charge of the moment.

“Swallow.”

She did so unquestioningly. Her professor’s face flickered with sensual recognition. Then inhaling deeply he looked down and tidied himself away. Hermione reached into her pocket for a tissue and wiped the last of his cum from her face, unsure as to what was now to happen. Snape seemed to read her thoughts and spoke again.

“You will remain here. Things are not yet ... complete.”

Hermione’s insides bubbled with thrilled delight at what was still to come. Her professor stepped into her again, not close enough to touch, his voluminous robes carefully swathed around him.

“How old are you now, Miss Granger?”

The potent atmosphere and blissful erotic heaviness of her body had dulled her mind, allowing her no response for a moment.

“Answer me.”

“I’ll be twenty in a few months.”

Her professor sneered, circling her with menacing compulsion. “What a high opinion you have of yourself, what elevated morals you ascribe to your noble Gryffindor spirit, what exacting academic scruples you attest to ... when in reality you are no more than a cheap, conniving little ... prick-tease.

“Does it give you satisfaction, Miss Granger, to know how you make all those simpering little fools hard and dripping for you? I’ve seen the look in their eyes when you walk past them; I’ve seen the light so easily ignited when you throw them a prissy little smile, when you run a tormenting hand so lightly and innocently up their arm, knowing full well that their whining little dicks want to bury themselves in the depths of your raging pussy. You teasing little slut, you tormenting whore. Do you humour them, Miss Granger? The chosen few? Do you go to their rooms at night, concealed by magic and darkness, and plunge your lonely wet tightness onto their desperate pricks, milking cum and confirmation out of them - confirmation that they adore you, that they worship Miss Hermione Granger – the brightest witch of her generation?”

She held his stare now, her heart pounding. His insults hounded her, but still her belly twisted and writhed in need. Here at last was her equal. She wanted nothing more than him. Her eyes at last met his with the dark directness his own conveyed.

“And what of you, Professor Snape? Have I not teased your prick too?”

His finger came up sharply to silence her. “Enough of your words, Miss Granger. I have had to suffer them long enough. Tonight you will be content to listen ... and to fuck.”

With that he shrugged off his robes, letting them tumble to the floor, and undid the few buttons on his frock coat and beneath to reveal himself yet again. He was as large and ready as before. Hermione could not stop staring at him rising up, protuberant, damp from need once more. His hands were again under her skirt, drawing a stifled moan from deep within her. Long fingers closed around the lace of her knickers and this time pulled them off completely this. She stepped out quickly and found herself being lifted up onto the protruding shelf behind. His hands pushed her skirt up to rest over her hips, revealing her naked and ready.

“Open your legs. Gods, witch, I can see your feverish lust from here. How lacking in control you are, Miss Granger. Is this what you are like walking along the corridor, sitting in dinner, taking exams - is your cunt always so wet and deprived: crying out, calling out for cock? I think it is. I think you live for your cunt to be fingered and filled and fucked, don’t you?”

He was not touching her, but had positioned himself between her legs with the head of his vital, throbbing member perched tantalisingly close to the aching lips of her sodden pussy. She threw her head back with a groan of frustration. “Please!”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Granger?” Still he teased.

She threw her head back, her eyes locking into his with burning ferocity.

“Fuck me now.”

For a moment he did not move, save for one eyebrow cocked sardonically. “Language, Miss Granger.”

Then he thrust.

Hermione felt her walls parting instantly and smoothly to accommodate the enormous hardness now fully within her. She cried out with searing satisfaction.

The man within her released a groan from so deep within his psyche it caused another surge of pleasure to course through her. He began to move, slow and steady at first, in and out, stroking fully along her length, then building in speed and intensity. Her hands came up and she clung to him desperately, her fingers gripping the black material of his frock coat, dragging to find a hold amidst the frantic motion of their coupling.

Snape was now fucking her smoothly but relentlessly, his cock ploughing in and out of her pussy with certain and delicious accuracy.

“What a perfect little pussy it is, Miss Granger. So tight, you little whore, so wet and welcoming, just for my cock, just for me. This is what you’ve wanted, isn’t it? This is what you’ve imagined. All the attention seeking, all the craving of acceptance and acknowledgement. Have you got what you wanted, Miss Granger? Do you feel that? Do you feel that cock fucking your aching Gryffindor cunt? At last.” He could only allow a groan of his own to rise up as she squeezed around him. “But, fuck, you’re good. Never has there been such a tight soaking slut so perfect for me. I can feel your pussy’s pleasure gripping me, pulling me into you.”

His voice shifted into another moan as his thrusts became ever more desperate and fervent.

Hermione’s mind had clouded. Her head was back, allowing him to feast on her milky neck while he still ploughed relentlessly along her. She gave herself over only to pleasure. At that moment, every word he spoke was an absolute truth.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, witch. Come with me, come now; let me feel your cunt’s pleasure around me.”

He pushed hard along her sweetest spot one last time while his shaft rubbed along her clit, and she came.

Her head was thrown back and her eyes locked into his as her mouth gaped in astonished rapture and drew in a rattling cry of wonder. Snape’s face creased with the sight and feel of her and as her pussy clenched in spasms around him, he released his climax rapturously into her, bursting in hot spurts accompanied by deep heaving grunts dragged from his chest.

When their pleasure finally rippled completely out of their bodies, Snape slumped upon her, his breathing heavy as he rested his head against the long line of her smooth damp neck. Hermione could not move, but neither did she want to. She did not want him ever to come out of her.

But at length he softened and slipped out, tidying his clothing quickly. For a moment their eyes locked, his face as cold and unreadable as ever. Then his eyes moved to the floor and with a fluid sweep, he bent down and picked up her discarded knickers, dangling them from one finger and studying them. For a moment his eyes moved to hers, then he closed his hand around her underwear and placed it in his pocket.

He stood straight and stepped back. “You may leave now, Miss Granger. But if you wish to so blatantly flout and break the school rules again, you will do well to remember the consequences.”

Hermione allowed her skirt to fall around her, feeling the cool air tingling her exposed sex, the dampness of their joining evaporating a little.

And fixing her eyes briefly into his a final time, she walked straight and tall out of his store cupboard, the ingredients she required concealed safely behind her.

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Any comments very welcome and happily received. x