Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Punish Me	By : Sparrowhawk Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 133350 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 45
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form and make no profit from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Assertion
- 2-Attack
- 3-Breakdown
- 4-Encounter
- 5-Punishment
- 6-Contact
- 7-Bitten
- 8-Scars
- 9-Play
- 10-Invitation
- 11-Abduction
- 12-Obedience
- 13-Tease
- 14-Learning
- 15-Venture
- 16-Protecting
- 17-Mistakes
- 18-Visit
- 19-Impromptu
- 20-Trigger
- 21-Healing
- 9
- 10
- 11
Sorry to keep everybody waiting. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy :)

Warnings for anyone who'd like to know: a rather naughty dream involving Harry, a vial of blue liquid, a cock and ball ring, a magically expanding, vibrating anal plug, clamps, a phallus-shaped gag, and his dream Master being a bit of a bastard (if any of this bothers you, but you still want to read the rest of the chapter, just skip the first part down to the first break), profanity, some fun banter between Draco and Harry, and some fluff there at the end.

Chapter Ten

Harry hummed to himself as he cooked, swaying and dancing in place to an internal melody only he could hear. The main dish was already finished and set out on the table, kept warm by a heating charm while he finished frying the potato and onion dish he’d made as a side, retrieved the large, fresh green salad from the cool room along with the Jell-O he’d made earlier in the day, switched off the oven when his rolls were done, and put it all on the table. Then, while removing his oven mitts and undoing the ties to his apron, he peeked out of the kitchen to the magical clock above the large fireplace. Master was due home any minute and he always liked having Harry ready and waiting when he got there. Currently, Master’s hand was still hovering over the work area, but that only meant he wasn’t yet out of the office. And today was a special day. Even though Harry was tempted to be naughty and act as if he hadn’t been waiting faithfully for his Master to come home so he could be punished—though he knew already that such disobedience only for the sake of punishment wouldn’t fly with his Master and he’d be punished in such a way that he definitely wouldn’t enjoy—he dutifully shed his clothes. He only wore them in the first place in case someone dropped by.

When he had removed and folded every item of clothing and set it aside, save the collar around his neck that marked him as his Master’s submissive, he knelt on the cushion by the door to wait—back straight and hands folded neatly in his lap.

He’d only been waiting for approximately ten minutes when he heard a tapping on the kitchen window. A little stiffly, Harry climbed to his feet and walked down the hall and around into the kitchen. As he had suspected, it was Master’s black eagle owl. Master had instructions for him. He shivered excitedly. Instructions usually meant his Master was feeling particularly randy, or else particularly annoyed, but considering what day it was, Harry thought it more likely to be the first rather than the second.

Almost breathless with anticipation, he flipped the latch on the window back and opened it for the eagle owl to swoop inside. It landed on the island and silently held out its leg and the letter clutched in its claws. Hands trembling slightly, Harry took the envelope, reaching over with his other hand to take an owl treat out of the container they kept on the island counter for that purpose. Hooting softly, the predatory bird took the treat from his fingers and gobbled it down, then nipped his hand affectionately before taking off out the window again.

Licking his lips and taking a seat at the table, Harry opened the envelope and unfolded the parchment inside. They were, indeed, instructions. And he could tell from the way they were written and the type of instructions that these were given because his Master was randy, not because he was having a bad day and wanted some form of release. Not that Harry minded the latter. In fact, he quite liked it since it made the man more aggressive than usual and it meant their sessions lasted longer. Not to mention the after-care he received once his Master was finished.

Once again smiling and humming, Harry dropped the letter onto the island and went to his Master’s bedroom to prepare. On the top of the bedside table, just as Master’s letter said there would be, was a vial filled with a light blue liquid. The letter didn’t say what it was, just that he was to drink it, so that’s what he did.

Along with the vial was a metal cock and ball ring—two rings fused together at one end that would all but guarantee he wouldn’t be able to ejaculate. Just the sight of the bondage toy was making him hard. With a whispered spell and a swish of his wand, he had the fused rings fitted snugly around his swiftly filling erection and testes. That done, he reached for the anal plug that had been set out on the tabletop as well. Quickly performing a cleaning, stretching, and lubrication spell, it was easy to slip the—at that moment—small toy in past his sphincter muscles. They tightened down when he’d gotten the thickest part of the plug inserted, holding closed around the slim section before the wide base that would prevent it from slipping out.

As soon as it was sitting firmly inside him, the magical sex toy began to grow. He gasped. He’d been expecting it, but even so, it was hard to prepare for the intensity of that kind of stretch, especially when it grew large enough to press against his prostate. It continued to grow until it was just this side of painful—uncomfortable, but not unbearable. It made his knees weak, both with pleasure from the stimulation to his prostate and with discomfort. And then, of course, the thing began to pulse, vibrating softly and then going still, vibrating, then going still, over and over again. His legs folded under him, losing all strength with the onslaught of sensation assaulting his ass and he bent over, curling in on himself and shuddering violently.

“F-Fuck …” he cursed quietly, already feeling the telltale tensing of his abdominal muscles and the coil of heat low down in his belly that meant he was nearing orgasm. He brought his clenched fist to his mouth and bit down on his first knuckle, focusing on the light sting and just breathing in order to gain control of himself enough to finish carrying out his Master’s instructions. But the fire in his belly was only growing and his asshole had begun to twitch and spasm uncontrollably. Trembling, Harry attempted to push himself back up onto his feet, but could barely brace himself on his hands and knees.

Damn it. It must be that vial of blue liquid Master had him swallow. But he wasn’t going to give up. As much as he liked being punished sometimes, he hated disappointing his Master. Still, he couldn’t help thinking, if he had known what the blue liquid would do, he would have taken it last.

Then again, Master had likely written his instructions that way on purpose. The man did enjoy watching him struggle, after all. Thankfully, Master hadn’t banned the use of magic, as he sometimes did, so it was a relatively simple matter to charm the clamps that had been laid out to pinch the tender skin around his nipples, as well as his nipples themselves. He then summoned the phallus type gag from the tabletop, took a deep breath through his mouth, and worked it in over his tongue. It was a rather large gag, one that filled his mouth and rested a short distance away from the area that would trigger his gag reflex. As always, he had to force himself to breathe through his nose, calming the flutterings of anxiety in his belly as he reminded himself that he could breathe. He wasn’t about to suffocate. After a few strong sucks that helped accustom his mouth to the large object and adjusted its position so it sat more comfortably on top of his tongue, it was time to move back into the entryway where he was to kneel and wait.

Before he could even attempt to move, though, the pattern of vibrations in the anal plug changed from the pulsing on and off to a steadily escalating buzz that set his nerves on fire and, when it reached its peak, simply started over again. That meant Master was on his way. He needed to hurry. But of course, that was easier said than done. The sensations assaulting his asshole made it nearly impossible to stand, so he had to settle for crawling, but even then, he couldn’t move very fast. The peak of the escalating vibrations were so harsh, so intense, and so tightly pressed to his prostate that he couldn’t help but to pause every few shuffles forward and wait for it to return to the softer vibrations. And of course, that was how his Master found him, huddled up with his forehead pressed against the floor, shuddering, with less than half of the entryway left to traverse between himself and his cushion by the door.

“Good evening, pet.”

Harry raised his eyes, unsurprised to find that he couldn’t see his Master’s face, and tried to force himself to continue moving forward. He managed a few shuffles, but the vibrations were still on the rise and his trembling limbs, weak with the frustrating and unceasing pleasure rushing through his body, couldn’t support him for long. All too soon, he was forced to stop again. Though he was unable to find release, his cock was constantly leaking, twitching and jerking in its bonds, his balls aching terribly with the prolonged constriction. He whined around the gag, his whole body quivering, every muscle tense.

“What’s wrong? Do you need help?”

Harry raised his head again and glared, though with no real heat, knowing his Master was deliberately asking when he couldn’t answer. The man was a bastard on the best of days and, if Harry was being honest, he loved that just as much as he loved being punished and submitting to the Dominant’s orders and whims. Really, if the man wasn’t a bastard at least once a day, Harry would probably think he was sick or Imperiused or something.

“Come along, Harry,” Master ordered, tone no longer teasing. “Come kneel on the cushion. I want to see you.”

Breathing deeply through his nose as the vibrations decreased and softened, Harry pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and scrambled toward the cushion as quickly as he was able, face flushed in embarrassment as his hard cock swayed obscenely between his legs, racing the swiftly increasing vibrations in his ass. Harder and harder the anal plug vibrated, and Harry sobbed in frustration around the gag. He wasn’t going to make it.

“You can do it, pet.”

It was the sweetest, most heavenly sound he’d ever heard—Master’s voice, soft and encouraging, urging him on. Believing in him. Wanting him to succeed.

So, keening in sweet agony, Harry pushed through the point at which he’d normally collapse and threw himself onto the cushion at his Master’s feet, heedless of the damage it could cause were he to land on the clamps pinching his nipples and the skin of his chest. Master’s knee caught him in the shoulder, the top of his shoe hooking around the inside of his thigh and deftly redirecting the fall of his body so he landed on his side rather than on his belly.

The moment Master touched him, the vibrations changed yet again, stalling on the stronger, faster vibrations. Harry twisted immediately onto his back, tears leaking from both eyes as he screamed around the gag and writhed, hips jerking uncontrollably as his body went into orgasm yet again, but this time, he was unable to come down from it. It hurt. Truly hurt. Every nerve ending oversensitive, constantly being over-stimulated. It was too much.

He threw his head back, and would have cracked it on the floor if not for his Master’s quick reflexes in cushioning the hardwood with a spell. He forced his watering eyes open and raised them to his Master’s hooded face, begging silently for the older man to make it stop.

Even without truly seeing the man’s face, Harry knew he was smiling down at him with a tender, affectionate expression. Then his Master waved his hand and Harry gasped as the rings restricting his purpling penis and testes disappeared. He froze, the pleasure swelling to inescapable, unstoppable heights, and then wailed as his cock erupted, thick ropes of cum pouring forth as if from a fountain. Spasms wracked his frame with each subsequent spurt of ejaculate. Again and again. Never seeming to end.

Then, just as it felt as if he was going to black out from the intense overload of sensation, his dick gave one last, weak spasm, dribbling cum all down his shaft and around his groin, and went limp. His ass clenched around empty air and his chest throbbed where the clamps had pinched his skin only moments before and he sighed blissfully when, with another wave of his Master’s hand, the gag, too, vanished. Harry smiled wearily when his Master knelt and ran his fingers through his nest of unruly hair, then tugged him up by the back of his neck into a heated kiss that would have rendered him instantly hard if he hadn’t been so thoroughly sated moments ago. Master was still hard, he knew, but he also knew he had a ready supply of potions that would replenish Harry’s spent energy and allow them to continue their celebration long into the night.

With a sharp nip to Harry’s bottom lip, Master drew back, his familiar mouth arched in a pleased smile. “Happy first anniversary, pet,” he murmured.

***҉***

Harry woke with a gasp, breathing heavily, chest tight with emotion. That dream … it’d been so real. Since he’d started taking the potion Snape had given him to help him sleep, he’d had several of those dreams involving the figure he addressed as “Master,” but none so vivid and none that embodied so perfectly the steady, controlling type of relationship he’d only recently come to realize that he wanted. In the dream, it had been their one-year anniversary as Dominant and submissive. And his feelings toward his Master and their relationship in itself had been so clear—peace, acceptance, and most of all, genuine happiness. Never in his life had he felt so good about who he was and where he was at and who he was with. He wanted that feeling back. He didn’t just want it in a dream, he wanted it in reality, too.

He wasn’t unaware of the similarities between the man in his dream and Severus Snape, either. In fact, he was ninety-nine percent positive his “Master” in the dream was Snape.

He’d vacillated for several days now, unwilling to take that final step in admitting what he wanted, what he longed for. After all, this wasn’t just asking someone to be his girlfriend or, in this case, boyfriend. He was, essentially, going to be asking Snape to be his Master. He’d seen some of what that involved, of course, through Draco and also through his interaction over the past weeks with Snape, himself, but … what, exactly, did it mean to have a Master? What would Snape expect from him if he did accept his proposal? Was there a period of dating like in a normal relationship? How would he be expected to act? How much control would he be expected to give up? What if, some days, he didn’t feel like letting the man order him around? Then there was the question of how this relationship was going to be viewed. Not only was he going to be in a homosexual relationship—which wasn’t all that uncommon in the wizarding world, nor was it considered reprehensible as in many parts of the muggle world—he was going to be in a relationship with a man twenty years his senior who was already in an established relationship with Lucius Malfoy. What would his friends think? Would their relationship even be that public, or would it have to be kept like a dirty little secret? Did he want to have it out in the open?

Damn it all. There was just so much he didn’t know!

He needed help. But from who? Snape?

Grimacing, he discarded the thought. The man surely would answer the questions he had if he asked, Harry was simply too self-conscious to do any such thing. And that left Draco, whom he was due to see that evening in any case. And, knowing his friend the way he did, and with all the things that had happened in the time he hadn’t seen the snarky blonde, he wouldn’t even have to be the one to bring it up. Draco would do it for him.

Plan of action decided, he pulled back his blankets, swung his legs over the side of his bed, and grimaced at the sticky mess in his shorts he’d been too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice was there. Before doing anything or going anywhere, he needed to clean himself up.

***҉***

“You seem to be in another place entirely this evening, Potter,” Draco commented as he watched the other man stare off into space for perhaps the fifth time since he’d shown up at his doorstep an hour ago.

Harry blinked, returning his wandering attention to the blonde sitting across from him. “Do I?”

Draco lifted his wine glass to his lips, took a generous sip, and then nodded. “Something happen?”

And, damn him for his inability to keep a poker face, Harry blushed.

“Ooooh,” the blonde murmured, setting the glass back down, a knowing glint to his blue-gray eyes. “Something did happen. Well? Go on, spill. You went to see Severus, didn’t you? And he saved you after that, from what I hear.”

“W-Well …” Harry stuttered, his blush deepening. He wondered where the git learned of the incident in the apothecary. Andromeda, perhaps? Or it could have been Snape, he supposed. The man was Draco’s godfather, after all.

“Oh, come on, Potter,” Draco drawled, clearly amused. “I’ve told you about Neville and me. The least you could do is let me in on all the dirty details about you and Severus. Did he fuck you?”

“What?!” Harry choked, having not expected a question so blunt. “No!”

Draco sat back with a disappointed frown. “Then why the hell are you acting like that? It does have something to do with Severus, doesn’t it?”

“Well … yeah. But it wasn’t anything like … like that.”

“Like sex?” the blonde retorted with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “Then you didn’t get laid? What a waste.” He looked at Harry for a moment as if waiting for him to say something, but when he didn’t, continued speaking. “So, what did you do with Severus? Or rather, what did he do to you? I know he’s a Dom, so he had to have done something.”

Suddenly feeling incredibly embarrassed and like he had been put under some kind of spotlight, Harry squirmed uncomfortably on the sofa and tried to look at anything but the blonde’s expectant face. “I … uh … asked him to … t-to punish me.”

“What, that’s all?”

Confused by Draco’s sullen attitude, Harry nodded. “That’s all. He said I could go to him when I felt I needed to.”

“Really? Just that?”

“Yes, Draco,” Harry grumbled, exasperated. “That’s it. Although, he did make sure I knew he was interested if I was willing to become his sub.”

“But you didn’t have sex?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a kiss?”

“Not even a kiss.”

“Well, damn,” Draco cursed, crossing his legs in front of him and taking another long sip from his wine glass. After a few minutes of silence, he set his glass down again and folded his hands in his lap. “So … are you going to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Be his sub.”

Harry frowned and swallowed back his nerves as he replied. “I don’t know. I mean … this is all kinda new for me. I want to, but I don’t even know what being a sub really means. How am I supposed to tell him I want to be his submissive if I don’t know what would be expected of me?”

Draco tilted his head in acknowledgement of his concerns. “Good point. You could ask him about it, you know.”

Harry felt his face heating again and dropped his gaze to his shoes. “I know.”

“Ask who about what?” a familiar deep, aristocratic voice interjected as Lucius Malfoy strode into the room, his silver snake-head walking stick clicking on the marble floor.

“Good evening, Father,” Draco said as he stood to take the man’s cloak and walking stick.

“Evening, Draco. Good evening, Mr. Potter,” the elder Malfoy greeted politely.

“Good evening, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry replied, also standing.

Draco set the cloak over the back of a chair, leaned the walking stick against the wall beside it, and then returned to sit on the couch beside his father. “Potter and I were just discussing his relationship with Severus.”

“Oh?” Lucius murmured, crossing one leg over the other as he accepted a glass of wine from his son. “Severus mentioned that he found a potential sub, should the young man be interested. Are you interested, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry murmured as he sat back down. “At least … I think so.”

“You think so?”

“He’s unsure,” Draco explained.

“Ah, yes,” Lucius responded knowingly, “you are new to the D/s lifestyle."

“You’re a Dom, aren’t you Mr. Malfoy?” Harry asked far more boldly than he actually felt.

Unfazed, the elder Malfoy inclined his head. “That is correct.”

“Then … could you explain a little about D/s relationships?”

“As it pertains to a sub, you mean?”

“Yes, sir.”

Lucius thoughtfully swirled his drink. “Truthfully, what is expected of you as the submissive depends entirely on what you and your Dominant agree upon. For instance, Severus is a sadist, but he won’t necessarily require that you accept pain in your relationship if that is not something you are willing to take on. If you aren’t certain if you would like pain play and wish to try it, it is Severus’ duty as the Dominant partner to take that into consideration. He may decide to gradually introduce pain play into your ‘scenes,’ but as the submissive, it is your right and your duty to inform him of your limitations and to use a safe word should he take it too far. He will respect that right and he will expect you to exercise it when you feel it necessary. Communication is key, Mr. Potter, whether you are deciding how far his right to exercise dominance over you extends or simply deciding when and for how long your scenes will last.”

“So … it doesn’t necessarily have to be an … all or nothing thing.”

“Correct. I know Severus very well, Mr. Potter. He is one of the most skilled and most flexible Doms I have ever known. He knows his duty as a Dominant partner and he will perform that duty to the best of his ability. No sub I have met that has been in a relationship with Severus has ended the relationship on the basis that he did not listen or did not respect their boundaries. If you are clear in what you want, how often you want it, and how far you are willing to go, you will not be disappointed should you choose to accept Severus as your Dominant.”

Harry frowned down at his shoes, deep in thought as he mulled over everything Mr. Malfoy had told him.

“If it helps,” Draco spoke up, “Neville and I are in the beginning stages of our relationship. We agreed that, to start out, we’d only meet on the weekends for a few hours each evening where we can get to know each other, have dinner, and perhaps play a little until we are more comfortable with each other. I’m meeting him tomorrow evening. Would you like to join us? You can invite Severus along and we’ll make it a double date.”

“Perhaps, Draco, it would be best if you first discussed this with your partner,” Lucius reminded his son.

“I will, Father,” Draco replied. “Tomorrow we were just going to have dinner, anyway.”

“Very well.”

“What do you say, Potter? Want to go on a double date with me?”

Harry smiled a little. Dating Severus Snape … what a strange thought. But then … going on a date meant they’d be in public, didn’t it? What if someone saw? He wasn't truly worried what his friends might think—all but Hermione, anyway—but he was worried about the backlash the news might provoke from the media. He'd dealt with those gossip whores enough for ten lifetimes, and he doubted the Potions master would wish to be the focus of a new scandal in the paper.

Would Snape even want to go on a date with him? Would that give him the wrong idea? Harry was interested, but he was also a little scared to take their relationship beyond where they already were.

“Mr. Potter,” Lucius called, gaining the young man’s attention. “If you wish to try dating Severus to see where a relationship with him might lead, I would suggest writing him a formal invitation. Explain to him your reasons for asking him out with Draco and Mr. Longbottom. Be honest with him and he will be honest with you. He will not push you if you do not wish to be pushed.”

Feeling better for the reassurance, Harry nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy.” Then he turned to Draco, “I’m game.”

Draco nodded, an excited gleam to his eyes as he stood and took out some parchment, a quill, and ink from the desk by the window and handed it to Harry. “Why don’t you write him now? Father can help you if you can’t figure out how to word something, and I’ll write to Neville and see what he says.” With a cheeky grin, Draco returned to the desk and sat down to write.

Harry watched his friend as he concentrated on writing the letter, watched the humor that danced in his eyes and the softness of his expression as he wrote to his boyfriend. It looked like Neville was a good influence on the once bad-tempered Slytherin. It would be good to see him again, to see how he’d grown and changed, to see how much Draco was influencing him.

When Draco folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope, Harry finally remembered he was supposed to be writing a letter, too, and got to work.

Dear Severus

He paused. That sounded strange. Snape wasn’t his dear anything and it was way too personal calling him by his first name when the man hadn’t given him permission to use it. Shaking his head a little, he crumpled the paper and tossed it away, starting again on a new sheet.

Professor Snape

Again, he stopped and shook his head. Too formal, and he wasn’t a student anymore. Discarding that paper, too, he tried again.

Maste

He didn’t even get to the end of that one before he crossed it out and tore it up in frustration. If he called Snape that, he was sure the man would misunderstand. Why was it suddenly so bloody difficult to write a simple note?

“Trouble, Mr. Potter?” Lucius asked, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at what Harry was writing.

Harry looked up, at a loss for how to proceed. “I … I don’t know what I should call him. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.”

“I see. Then, perhaps it would be best to simply use his full name. Then you are not in danger of sounding too intimate, which may give him the wrong impression, nor would you sound as if you are indifferent to his offer. The body of your letter can be used to fully explain your intentions so there are no misunderstandings.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Harry carefully penned out what Lucius suggested. He looked at it for a bit when he was finished, still unsure, and then slowly nodded. It didn’t look as good as he had hoped, but it was better than what he’d had before. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy.”

“You’re welcome,” the man replied, but noticed that the youth was no longer listening to him. Every ounce of his concentration seemed to be absorbed in writing Severus. He couldn’t suppress a smile. What a cute sub the young man would make.

Severus Snape, Harry re-read the one line he had written. Then he brought the end of the quill to his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully, and grimaced when he got the taste of ink on his tongue.

Lucius offered his help once more when he noticed Harry's writing had stalled, for which the younger wizard was grateful. After he finished, he read it through.

Severus Snape,

I wanted to formally thank you for the help you’ve given me recently and ask if you would like to join Draco, Neville, and I for dinner on the 20^th of August. I wish to get to know you better and thought dinner might be an appropriate start.

He read it over a few more times, this time remembering not to chew the tip of his quill, and then quickly decided to write a little more of an explanation. The beginning was good, but it sounded a bit vague.

I’m no good at these kinds of things. I still don’t know if I want to commit myself to being your sub, and Draco offered to have a double date, so I was hoping we could talk about things over dinner. If you’re willing and it doesn’t inconvenience you, then please send over your reply via Floo. Draco’s made all the arrangements and he said he can send over a Portkey. It’ll activate at 6 tomorrow evening.

I hope you’ll come,

Harry

With a sigh, Harry carefully folded the parchment and slipped it into an envelope Mr. Malfoy handed to him, carefully writing out Snape’s name on the front. It wasn’t going to get any better, he knew. Now it was all up to Snape.

“Hey,” Draco said as he practically bounced over from the other side of the room where the fireplace was situated, waving a piece of parchment excitedly. “Neville says it’s okay. He’s a little nervous about Severus being there, but he’s looking forward to seeing you.” He smirked, “He’s always been scared of Severus, so this’ll be a good opportunity to prove to him that I can protect him from the big, bad Potions professor.” He finished with a fond chuckle for his boyfriend’s silliness.

Harry grinned at the blonde’s enthusiasm. “That’s good. I’m done with my letter.”

“Perfect. I’ll send it through. Why don’t you come over and sit by the fireplace to wait?”

Harry nodded and got up from his chair. Draco’s father also stood and followed him over, taking one of the large armchairs by the even larger fireplace.

Draco took the envelope from Harry before he could think on it anymore, threw a handful of Floo powder into the empty fireplace, and sent the letter off in a flash of green flames. Now all they had to do was wait. And waiting, Harry soon realized, was ten times more nerve-wracking than writing the invitation.

After five minutes, Harry got up from the armchair and started to pace the short space in front of the fireplace between the armchair he had only recently vacated and the armchair the elder Malfoy occupied.

Draco sat down with a laugh and grabbed Harry’s arm to stop him. “Potter, sit down. It’ll be fine.”

“I-I know,” Harry sighed, running his fingers back through his hair agitatedly. “But … what if something happened and he didn’t get it?”

“He got it, Potter,” Draco refuted confidently.

“Are you sure? Maybe he’s not even at home.”

“He always stays home to work on new potions Friday nights. He’ll be there.”

“Yeah, but what if he had to step out for something?”

“Then when he gets back his wards will let him know that he had a letter come through the Floo. Relax, Potter. Seriously.”

“Okay, but maybe—”

“Sit down, Mr. Potter,” Lucius snapped exasperatedly.

With a startled blink, Harry dropped down to sit on the floor. “Sorry,” he muttered. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. He’d never asked a man out on a date before. Plus, the man he was asking out was Snape! Snape, for Merlin’s sake, the snarky, bad-tempered, scary—albeit sexy—Potions professor of the dungeons! Why, oh why did he agree to do this? He knew it was a bad idea. Why would Severus Snape want to go out with him? The very idea was absurd—

He jumped nearly a foot in the air when bright green flames flared wildly in the fireplace and spat out an envelope with Harry’s name on the front in the Potions master’s elegant handwriting.

Harry James Potter

Bloody hell, the man made his name look like poetry.

With trembling fingers he slid the envelope’s flap open and pulled out the parchment—the reply to his invitation, or so he hoped. He closed his eyes as he unfolded it, but realized when he opened them again that he was shaking too much to read it.

“Mr. Malfoy c-could you read it for me … please?” Harry asked, keeping his eyes lowered as he handed the parchment to the elder Malfoy. The blonde man took it without comment and Harry wrapped his arms tightly around his legs.

Reading over it, Lucius chuckled, bringing Harry’s curious gaze up to his face.

“What’s so funny?”

Lucius shook his head. “Your Master knows you quite well, Mr. Potter.”

Harry’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Lucius noticed with some gratification that the young man didn’t correct him when he called Severus his Master. Severus was right. The boy was good submissive material. “Listen,” he bade the other wizard with an upraised finger. When Harry was quiet and appropriately attentive, Lucius read, “‘First, Harry, take a deep breath.’”

“Wha—?” he shut his mouth at the look Lucius gave him, inhaled obediently, and then exhaled.

“‘Feel better?’” Lucius continued to read with a smirk. “‘Now, I want you to listen quietly until Lucius is finished reading. Yes, I know Lucius is there. I would recognize his influence anywhere.’” Again, Lucius chuckled, but quickly resumed at the impatience and near desperation in Harry’s eyes. “‘As to your invitation, I accept. Considering I am not yet in a position to demand anything of you, I will phrase this as a request. As the one inviting, it would be traditional to expect you to come to my home to pick me up. However, I would prefer that you give me leave to pick you up. Ask Draco to send the Portkey to my house if you are amenable to this arrangement. I will also be paying. That is not up for debate. Severus Snape.’ As a footnote, he also says this: ‘Don’t forget to thank Lucius for his time. And remember, Harry, this is a date. You may call me Severus.’”

Draco laughed and shook his head. “He really does know you well, doesn’t he Potter?”

Blushing hotly, Harry took the letter from Lucius’ outstretched hand with a mumbled “thank you” and then glared at Draco who still had that thrice-damned annoying, know-it-all smirk on his face. The younger Lord Malfoy held out a new piece of parchment and a quill. Harry couldn’t quite find it in himself to stay mad at the Slytherin when he was so bloody happy. After all, Snape had given him permission to use his first name.

I can call him Severus, he thought happily. Severus. Severus. Severus.

He took the parchment and quill from Draco and got onto his knees so he could write more comfortably from his position on the floor.

Thank you. I live at Sirius’ old house, #12 Grimmauld Place.

“Draco,” he said, turning to face his friend. “Do you have the Portkey to send now or will he get it later?”

“You can tell him I’ll send it over by noon tomorrow.”

“‘Kay, thanks.”

Draco said he’ll send the Portkey by noon tomorrow.

Harry

P.S. I’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, Severus.

Despite the fact that it was on paper, he felt his cheeks going red as he wrote out the Potions master’s first name. Before he could think on it too much, he shoved the parchment into an envelope and sent it on its way.

He didn’t have long to wait for Severus’ reply, and he eagerly tore open the envelope to read the single line.

I’ll pick you up at ten ‘til six. I, too, look forward to seeing you, pet.

“Bloody hell,” Draco moaned, dramatically clapping his hand to his forehead at the sight of Harry’s ecstatic smile. “You’ll be his sub by the end of the night! Severus is one lucky bastard.”

Harry ducked his head in embarrassment, but he couldn’t stop grinning, no more than he could deny that Draco was probably right. A large part of him already wanted to belong to the older wizard, and it only grew larger and more intense each time he saw or heard from the man—or in this case, read what he’d written.

Gods, I want this to work, he found himself thinking desperately. I want him. I want his control and ownership. I want the pain he can give me. I want to belong somewhere.

****************************************************************************************************

A/N: Well, there you have it. Just so everyone knows, I totally had fonts picked out for Harry and Severus, respectively, but it wouldn't keep them once I copied the chapter onto here. If anyone's curious, I used the Chiller font for Harry and the Vivaldi font for Severus. *Shrugs* Seemed to fit.

Reviews can be found at: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/47397-punish-me-review-replies/
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Punish Me