Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Massage	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 52209 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from writing these stories.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
A/N: Thank you all for keeping up with me! The commentary is wonderful please keep it up!

The only good thing about being in the hospital wing in the middle of Saturday afternoon while the Quidditch match was in full swing was that every patient not strictly bed-ridden was at that match. This left the hospital wing completely empty. Hermione stood at the medical desk, just in front of where she’d been seated the very first time he’d come into the infirmary. She would not look to the exam room, the very private, very confined exam room where she had performed his first treatment. He was standing inside, waiting, the door slightly ajar. The black of his cloak and the silver of his cane could be seen just beyond through the crack in the doorway.

            She wasn’t sure she could bring herself to touch him again; she had let herself degrade and debase him in a manner so unprofessional she wasn’t sure she trusted herself to touch any patients anymore. Though she knew other patients were not like him. And it was all some sick and twisted game that she’d somehow got caught up in; the way he’d spoke in the staff box, emphasizing that word had confirmed it. But game or not she had crossed a line, a line she couldn’t uncross and because of that she was lost.

            Finally, after several moments of trying to make herself simply disappear, Hermione slowly moved toward the examination room. She entered it, pushing the door behind her, not shutting it all the way but enough to give them some privacy. He stood leaning against the counter, again his posture compromised, the exam table in the center of the room resting between them. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him though that’s all he seemed to be doing, staring across the small room at her, his eyes fixed straight forward.

            How long they stood there in silence, her gazing at the table and he gazing at her, before he finally spoke she wasn’t sure. But it felt like an agonizing eternity. And when he finally did speak the nausea that she’d been fighting all day seemed to return, her stomach wrenching and twisting into tight knots, her throat closing up, her spine beginning to tingle.

            “Shall I strip?” his voice was soft, a curious, honest question.

            Hermione could feel her lower lip trembling as she slowly raised her eyes to gaze at him. That hard anger, the roughness of his features, the sharp pointed glare of his eyes all seemed dulled, dimmed and smoothed, a humbled broken man before her had asked the question; not the man she had come to experience over the years.

            The tears were already welling up in her eyes; she had done this to him. A man who had undergone so many tortures; pains and sacrifices with little reward for them and he had been entrusted to her. A healer meant to ease his pains and quiet his discomforts; fix him, heal him; and all she had done was humiliate him and break him.

            “I’m so sorry—”

            “No need for guilt ridden apologies now, Miss Granger,” he said his voice still the level emotionless shell with no sting of venom or biting slash of acid. “You’ve used my body as your plaything to your amusements and since you cannot seem to pull yourself away from such sick gratifications, what more can I do?” his fingers were trembling as he moved them to unhook his cloak. It took him a moment as he draped it on the small chair beside the counter, slowly fighting the tremor in his arm as he began, with difficulty, to undo the buttons on his shirt. “I have no choice but to be at your mercy.”

            Such words should have filled her with anger, should have ignited the spark with which she often fought back. But it was impossible to feel anything but regret when he spoke as he did, with such a listless sound, the angry light of his eyes snuffed out leaving empty black pools in its wake. She couldn’t bring herself to watch as he struggled to slide his arms out of his shirt; his resolve to fight the tremors wavering considerably as he rotated his shoulders back finally freeing himself of the garment.

            She’d moved around the exam table quicker than she’d realized as he began to undo the buckle on his pants, her hands gripping his and then she pulled them immediately back as she felt him tense at her touch. His fingers were still shaking as he pulled the leather tail through the buckle and began to unwind it from the loops of his trousers. Hermione closed her eyes; her heart thudding painfully in her chest.

            “You don’t—”

            “So modest now…should I have been so lucky to have you be this way before,” he said as his trembling fingers continued to move against his trousers, fumbling with the button, and then with the zip.

            “No,” she said, her voice a breaking plea and again she moved her hands to still his. Again he tensed but she kept her hands on his; keeping him from undoing his trousers completely. “I’m sorry— I should never have…” she closed her eyes, swallowing hard to strain back the tears. “Yesterday was a mistake, which I regret and am deeply sorry for, sir, I—” how could she explain it to him. That she’d humiliated him and forced him to come against her gloved hand because she’d been angry, because he’d pushed her buttons just a little too far?

            Great, blame him on top of it all, that will score you loads of points, her mind chided. He trusted you and you’ve reduced him to this; hasn’t he faced enough torment in his life? Enough torture; and you were meant to help him. How in the hell did this help him? You should be ashamed of yourself. She was ashamed, but knew not how to atone for it. He still needed treatment, treatment that she couldn’t possibly give him.

            But it dawned on her that that was her penance. She would still have to provide him with treatment, watching him as a broken man, the man she broke; hoping only that in going forward she would at least manage to solve his physical problems, despite having created emotional ones in their place.

            Hermione let her hands fall away from his and she stepped back, turning her back to him. “I need to get the book and a kit,” she whispered silently and then stepped out of the exam room, shutting the door to give him complete privacy. It would be agonizing to lay her hands on him, knowing he would tense every time, that he felt as if he had no choice, that he had to submit to her mercy like she was an executioner. But that was her punishment for the crime; watching him as he was. And how much worse she knew it must be for him; that thought made her cringe as she moved into her office, gathering the book, a fresh kit, several salves and other things that had been mentioned in the book during her reading.

            Returning to the exam room door, arms full, she tapped her foot against it firmly to sound like a knock. When she heard silence from within she carefully pushed the door in and stepped inside, using her hip to close it. She was careful as she laid the supplies out on the table, noting that her patient had moved himself up onto the examination table, completely naked as he had been the day she’d first given him treatment. Only there was no attempt to hide his privates; his cock, flaccid and limp laid slightly to the left of his thighs nestled in a thicket of wiry black curls. She swallowed hard, turning her attentions back to everything she had brought with her. She had so shamed him that he had nothing left to hide.

            “I’d like to attempt a nervous system stimulant,” she said slowly, trying to keep her voice as flat and level as possible. “The treatment itself is somewhat simple, the preparation of the body a little more complex, but in essence it will send a series of electro-magnetic pulses through your nerves, mild ones that might be similar to feeling pins and needles when your foot falls asleep,” she continued, quoting the book from memory. “The pulses would be delivered for twelve minutes and then an arterial coolant would be injected into your nerves, preserving them in a stasis for several hours— you would need to stay here for monitoring overnight.”

            “No.” he said.

            “I believe that it will help—”

            “I have no choice in what you continue to do to my body, Miss Granger,” he said softly. “But will you force further humiliation upon me by lodging me here for everyone else to see?”

            Hermione bit her lower lip. She hadn’t thought about it like that. Closing her eyes for a moment she turned over several possibilities in her mind. “Alright,” she said. “There is a small adjoining room in my chambers, I assume Poppy used it for personal storage, it’s currently empty. If I set up a private room there, so that you can rest and be monitored away from the hospital wing’s prying eyes, will you consent?”

            There was a silent pause. She carefully turned her head over her shoulders to see him. He was gazing down at the floor, figure hunched somewhat, long sinewy legs dangling from the table. As if feeling her gaze on him he lifted his head and looked at her, eyes still heavy and empty. “Do I have a choice?”

            Hermione picked up the book, cradling it in her hands as she walked it over to him. She sat it on his lap, for the moment covering his genitals from view. “Here,” she said and pointed to the treatment she had described. Making sure the book would not slip from his thighs she stepped back to allow him to read.

            She watched his eyes moving slowly back and forth across the page, reading through the text, carefully rereading a section or two here and there. When he’d finished he turned his head up to her, eyes looking almost pleading. “You intend to shave me?”

            The color in her face could not be captured as it flushed through her cheeks. “Yes,” she said. “It’s to ensure that you don’t get burned or that no currents beyond what is prescribed are ignited,” she paused and stepped forward to take the book from his lap, hesitating because she did not wish to steal the only cover of what remained of his modesty. “But as it says in the book, only from the neck down, so if we pin your hair up in the rubber cap there’s no need to shave your head or your eyebrows.”

            “Why spare me, surely totally denuding me will please you greatly on some level, Miss Granger.”

            Hermione tipped her head up to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. “It’s unnecessary, and I’m not going to be putting you through anything else that’s unnecessary, we’ll use the rubber cap,” she whispered and then quickly turned her back to him to keep him from seeing the tears. She did not deserve to feel as she did about his comments; she had brought it all on herself. “Now, let me just get the shower ready…and as you read in the text, I can use a straight razor or the cream provided in the kit,” she said.

            Severus slowly began to ease his body down from the table, his knees only quaking slightly as he rested his weight on his feet. He gripped the table’s edge to keep him upright as he turned to face the back of the room. The brick wall, he knew, concealed the torture chamber where she was no doubt about to lead him. “I daresay, Miss Granger, that you should use cream…if you bring a razor to my body I’d be tempted to have you slit my wrists and put me out of this humiliating misery.”

            “Cream then,” she said stoically trying not to focus on his comments. She wasn’t looking forward to denuding him; but of the treatment options it had seemed the most promising. And she refused to even consider any of the treatments that now involved anything below his waist, though they were flag marked as the most responsive. She simply couldn’t bring herself to do it; being in the shower with him naked was going to be bad enough. It would not be anything like the last shower they had shared together.

            Her eyes fell closed and for a moment those images flashed behind her mind; strong hands, rough hands, thrusting her hard against the shower wall; his cock at full stiffness plunging into her slick folds; fucking her with wild abandon while she cried out until her walls had quaked against him. The image was fleeting as it was quickly replaced with the broken man that was now standing just beside her. Her mind was too distraught emotionally; too tangled up in guilt and pity to focus on the fact that twice after treatments he had been nearly strong as an ox, flinging her about like a ragdoll to fuck her mercilessly. Those thoughts, while worth evaluating, were nowhere in her conscious present.

            Taking the cream, the rubber cap, and a gentle cotton cloth she moved to the back of the exam room and tapped her wand against the top three bricks. With a crunching sound the wall pulled itself apart to reveal a rather elaborate shower room. The floor was tiled with large drains in the center, and each of the walls had a separate shower head with a rail on the wall beneath it, and a chair bolted to the floor. Hermione walked over to the showerhead on the left. “We’ll work here,” she said and motioned for him to sit down.

            “I’ll keep you off your feet as much as I can,” she said. “But let’s get your hair tucked up first.” She waited for him to move across the shower chamber, which he did with less ease than she would have cared to admit. She had to focus on the work at hand; struggling fiercely to keep her emotions checked down inside of her. When he sat down in the chair she moved to stand behind him, gathering his hair; his soft delicate hair in her fingers. She had run her fingers through his hair wildly when he’d fucked her in the shower. And now she felt like she was violating him just for touching it.

            “Why give me the pleasure of small comforts, Miss Granger,” he said, his fallen voice echoing against the shower walls. “Surely you realize watching all of my hair fall out would be mortifying for me, why stop now?”

            Her hand trembled as she let it slide free of his hair. Had she not broken him the previous night would that comment had been her breaking point? Had he kept on with his sneering comments and vile tongue loaded as it had been would she have snapped and shorn every last hair from his head? She shuddered at the thought. Carefully laying a hand on his shoulder, noting how he tensed as she did, she bent forward and whispered against his ear. “You have rather lovely hair, Severus, and I should like to give you what comforts I can going forward.” Severus. She had finally forced herself to use his name again. Perhaps it would help her push through the process. But her thoughts were interrupted at the sound of his voice.

            “Going forward…indeed…”

            She wasted little time in securing his hair into the rubber cap, making sure it was snug but not tight around his head, keeping all of his hair tucked up safely inside. A part of her wanted to simply leave the bottle of hair removal cream with him and retreat back into the exam room. But she knew that with his tremors he might burn his skin and certainly there would be places that were difficult to reach.

            He was not an overly hairy man. Soft black hair on his forearms and a light dusting of more wiry curls on his chest. His back was hairless, and so mostly was his stomach save for the little line that began just below his naval and worked its way down into a large thatch of coarse wiry curls, all the same dark ebony of the rest of his hair. His legs were covered in black hair as well, but the only part of this that truly bothered her was having to denude his genitals. How very humiliating.

            But waiting was only prolonging the inevitable. Coming to stand in front of him she removed her robe to reveal the singlet once more. “I’m going to work in stages, too much at once and— well, we’ll just go parts at a time,” she informed him. “I’m going to start with your arms,” she nodded to the bottle of cream. “I’ll massage the cream into your arms, it has to set for a minute or two and then we’ll stand you up and I’ll rinse you off with the cloth under the spray,” she said.

            Severus said nothing, shaking his head softly as if to say how could this be happening to him. He looked strange with the black rubber cap hiding his hair, his face looking more gaunt and pale somehow without his natural curtain of black silk to frame it. Hermione bit her lower lip again. “Unless you think you can manage on your own?”

            His eyes, still a swirling mass of confused violated pain turned to her. “If I could manage, Hermione, I would not be here naked about to have your hands washing away the hair of my body,” he turned his head to the side. He had used her given name for the first time. In all the time he’d received treatment it had always been Miss Granger or simply Granger. But in that moment it shocked her motionless to hear him use her name. “Just get on with it, I can hardly wait to have your hands once more roaming my body and fondling my genitals.”

            Focus. Focus. Focus. Her mind repeated. It would do no good to start crying again. Taking the bottle of cream in her hands she knelt at his left side. She would start there and then do his other arm. Depilatory cream was not her preference. It was messy and the odor was something rather strong, she preferred using a razor when she found herself in the position of having to remove body hair from a patient. But she would afford him what she could and he’d asked for cream. It meant more contact with his body, first applying the cream and then rinsing it off by hand with the rag, but it was what he had asked for.

            Squirting a liberal amount of the thick white cream into her palm she stood up and then lifted his arm straight up above his head. “This may be cold, and it may tingle a bit,” she warned as she placed her hand just at the side of his pectoral muscle and slowly began to sweep upward into his armpit. She worked her way up his arm coating the appendage in the cream until she’d reached his wrist. “I need you to hold your arm up over your head, or straight out in front of you like this, while I do the other one,” she eased his arm down from above his head, laying straight out in front of him.

            Hermione squirted another generous dollop of the cream into her palm before repeating the process on his right arm. She stood back and then moved to fuss with the knobs of the showerhead, ensuring it would be hot but not scalding and firm but not skin ripping when she turned the water on. After two minutes had passed she adjusted the showerhead down so that he could stand up and lean against the wall if he had to. “Alright, come stand here,” she said and picked up the washcloth.

            She watched as Severus slowly rose from the chair, moving to stand where she indicated. She touched his arms, helping him turn to face the showerhead. “Just stand still for me,” she said and reached in front of him to turn the spray on. It was hot and forceful, pelting down against his chest, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. Carefully she wet the cloth and began to stroke down his arms from the top of his shoulder down to his wrist, turning the rag up under the spray to let all of his hair fall away into the drain. Little dark hairs clung to the cloth as she rinsed it out and continued to wash away the cream. A good bit more washed away down the drain as she stroked his armpits but in moments his arms and armpits were completely hairless.

            “There, just stand here for a moment, let the water wash away the residue so it doesn’t burn your skin,” she said and then she turned the water off. “Alright, sit back down and we’ll do your chest.”

            He was compliant, silent and slow moving. But once he was seated she stood before him with the cream in her hand, slow even strokes all over his chest, noting how he looked blankly over her shoulder at the wall. She’d never had to completely shave a person’s body before, or in the case at hand, use a depilatory cream. Sections that had been infected, portions that were being prepared for surgery, but never anything like this. Again she let the cream set for the required time before turning him into the spray of the showerhead. She stroked the rag gently over his chest, wiping away the lovely smattering that had crossed his chest. She tried not to gaze at his nude chest, his scars seeming much more prominent without the hair to hide them.

            “Lean against the wall for me,” she said, gently guiding him by the shoulder to press his back against the tiled shower wall. It would be easier to work on his legs if he was standing but with his tremors she was unsure of his balance. Already she was soaked; her tank top clinging to her body as were her trousers, but it didn’t bother her in the least. She’d used her wand to pin her hair up before they’d started, similar to how she’d pinned his hair up the day before, thinking fondly on how fetching it had looked to see his hair swept up and off his neck. “And spread your legs a bit.”

            Severus complied, letting his eyes fall closed as he tipped his head back against the wall as well. He was slow to separate his legs but did so, standing with them a little more than shoulder width apart, but nothing so wide as to strain his muscles. Hermione slowly lowered herself down onto her knees after she had adjusted the head of the shower to spray outward onto the chair. She immediately picked up the bottle of cream and squirted double the amount she had used for his arms into her palm. “One leg at a time,” she said more for herself than for him.

            Hermione worked her way up from his ankle, carefully coating his shin, calf, kneecap and thigh all the way up front and back and the sides, running her hand along the inside of his thigh very slowly. It looked strange, the white cream with all of the little black hairs poking out through it; like black grass after a mild snow. After a moment she helped him step forward into the spray, remaining on her knees as she once more took up the cloth and slowly began to wipe away all the hair on his legs. It was a stark contrast to his left leg, still covered in hair; this new denuded skin, paler than before, looking scrawny and weak.

            She repeated her treatment to his other leg, pausing for a moment. He was hairless then; save for the thick patch of curls around his cock. It was the part she had dreaded the most. Just get it over with, she thought and carefully squirted the last of the cream into her hand. Hermione drew in a shaking breath, one hand nervously moving forward to cup his length, pulling it forward to keep it up off his curls. Working her fingers all over his pubic mound she spread the cream over him; moving down with her hand to cover his balls, the space between his thighs and then with only a moment’s hesitation; back between his ass, curving her hand out over each cheek to ensure she’d covered him thoroughly.

            As she pulled her hand back, she kept her other hand on his flaccid member. “I don’t want to burn you,” she said, knowing already that it was not the best method for his testicles as the skin of his sac was likely as porous as his shaft. The obligatory two minute wait seemed to take a lifetime; with her hand around his limp member, holding it taught, her other hand ready with the rag. When finally it came she stepped him forward into the spray, tugging his cock slightly to the left and then to the right as she wiped away all of his thick pubic curls; large clumps of hair falling free and running toward the drain. When she had cleaned him completely she released his member and then let him stand under the spray just a bit longer.

            She could not bring herself to look him in the eye. She was afraid what she would see there. The water stilled when she turned the knob and she shook her head, feeling the water running through her hair despite it being pinned up with her wand. With a quick wandless cleansing spell she made sure her hands were free of the depilatory cream before drawing her wand from her hair and casting a drying charm on her body. She in turn cast one on him as well. “Let’s get you on the table,” she said quietly, moving ahead of him to lay the rubber sheet down over it.

            The process seemed simple enough; a protection ring drawn with her wand around his neck to ensure that the electro-pulses didn’t pulse up into his head; the two rods that would deliver the alternating currents, each one to pinned just beneath the surface of his skin between each shoulder. A tap with her wand to each rod and then she’d have to wait for twelve minutes. Hermione carefully watched him climb back up onto the table. She made no eye contact with him while inserting the rods into his skin.

            “I can’t touch you while the pulses are coursing through your nerves, you’ll be like an electrical live wire,” she said, “But try not to move either way, twelve minutes isn’t a terribly long time.” He said nothing, lying on his back gazing blankly up at the ceiling. She noticed how frail he looked then; completely hairless with his scars standing out against his skin far more noticeably than before. He looked thinner somehow, his skin paler without the dark smatterings of hair to hide it. It made her long to reach out and place a comforting hand on his shoulder, draw a blanket over him, but she quickly snapped at her mind for thinking such thoughts as they had lead her down the path of no return the first time.

            She waved her wand around his neck, securing the barrier there and then tapped each of the rods with her wand tip, watching as they started to hum in a pulsating rhythm. “If you feel any sudden rushes of pain, experience nausea or dizziness, or feel a harsh burning sensation tell me immediately,” she said and then stepped closer to his head, taking his barren crotch out of her sightline.

            Already she could see his chest rising and falling more quickly than it had been, this concerned her but the book had said this was also a side effect. She watched carefully as he turned his eyes to her. “And if this torture doesn’t cure me?” he drawled, wincing a bit.

            “Does it hurt?” she said stopping herself from reaching forward, not wanting to get shocked.

            “It is not particularly pleasant,” he said and winced again.

            “But no severe sudden pain? Or burning?”

            “No, Hermione,” he said and closed his eyes, his breathing turning to shallow pants. Again he had used her name, and that caught her off-guard. Was he trying to make her feel as he felt; vulnerable? How using her given name was meant to do that she wasn’t sure but it felt strange, and it put her nerves on edge. But she couldn’t call him out for it; she’d just used her hand draped in a cloth to gently wipe away every hair on his body, touching his most intimate areas to denude him; he could call her whatever he pleased.

            Aside from the winces and the labored breaths he seemed to exhibit no further discomfort, though after just a few moments he closed his eyes, as if trying to predict the rhythm of the pulses surging through his body. After the twelve minutes passed she tapped the rods, watching them slowly rise up to the surface of his skin, and with her wand she dispelled them from his chest. “I need to inject the arterial coolant,” she said moving to the counter to pick up the loaded syringe. It was a long needle, a few centimeters in length. “This will pinch and you should feel a flush of cold through your body. The book says it may sting, your teeth might begin to chatter and your extremities might turn slightly blue for the first few moments.”

            Severus who had only opened her eyes when she’d begun talking about the side effects of the needle slowly nodded his head. “Should I sit up?” he asked, his tone flat and neutral, but at least less broken than before.

            Hermione helped him up, taking both hands to her shoulders, undoing the rubber cap from his head in the process. His hair fell freely down around his shoulders, making him look a tiny bit more normal. She lined the tip of the needle up where the first rod had been. “Little pinch,” she said and then pressed the plunger of the syringe into his skin. She was surprised that he didn’t flinch or even hiss as she injected the coolant into him. But the effects were visible immediately.

            Severus began to shiver; gooseflesh rippling across his skin, everywhere tiny little bumps and his teeth began to chatter. Hermione reached behind her and opened one of the cabinets drawing a thick blanket out from it and draping it over his shoulders. “Wrap up in this, then we’ll get you to the room adjoining my chambers,” she said.

            It hadn’t taken long to move him from the exam room through the office and into her chambers. She’d summoned one of the vacant hospital beds into the otherwise empty room and helped him into it, keeping him wrapped up in the thick blanket. Though the gooseflesh had subsided mostly he still had the occasional shiver as he lie in the bed. “I need to check on the other patients before I settle in to monitor you for the evening, But if you need anything, shout, I’ll hear you,” she said and then draped another blanket over him for good measure.

            While she was reluctant to leave him alone she was relieved to be away from him. It had been too much; to see him so broken, even his taunts had lacked the spark that was distinctively him. And now he was alone, mostly hairless and shivering. She prayed silently that this particular treatment would work so that she could dismiss him and never force him to see her or have her hands upon him again.

            There were too few patients in the hospital wing for her to stay away from him long enough to feel like she’d put proper space between them. So after ensuring that her last patient, a third year Slytherin who’d been banged up pretty badly during the Quidditch match, was resting comfortably in his bed, Hermione left the hospital wing in search of the kitchens. It had been an extremely long day and she’d not had proper food at all. Tickling the pear after the long trek to the bowl of fruit portrait, she slipped inside and found herself tucking into a pint of ice cream rather than a substantial meal.

            She took little comfort in the dessert; trying anything to keep her mind off him. But it was inevitable. And after nearly an hour in the kitchens the house elves were beginning to stare as she sat there just licking the remnants of the ice cream from her spoon. With a heavy sigh she pulled herself up and began the long trek back to the infirmary. She would have to check in on him anyhow, despite not wanting to put him through the torment of her presence any further. It was her job as a healer, she reminded herself as she made her way back into the office, slipping into her private chambers.

            The whimpering greeted her ears and she was immediately rushing to the adjoining room, heart suddenly racing. “Severus, are you alright?” she asked, eyes wide as she stared at him in the bed. He was shaking, his whole body trembling as if jerking about in a shock of some sort. Both hands grabbed his cheeks holding his head still as he rode out the spasms. When finally his body stilled she pulled back the blanket, half expecting to see that he had simply had another inexplicable orgasm, but her cheeks flushed and she quickly dropped the blanket.

            “It’s been…like this…for an…hour…” he panted, rolling his eyes back into his head. “It won’t stop…” his fingers were trembling as he clutched at her hand. “Please…make it stop…”

            Hermione stared at him in disbelief. “I…” she swallowed having absolutely no idea what to do. “How often?” she asked.

            “Every few minutes…” he said “At first I thought…” he closed his eyes, trying to shift onto his side, his shoulder shaking slightly as she did. “The pulses had caused an adverse reaction…but the sensation was there, and I stayed in that state…”

            “But then it happened again?”

            Severus nodded. “The buildup…then the spasms…sensation with no relief…”

            Hermione was flabbergasted. She’d heard of similar conditions but certainly not like this and not as frequently as he was experiencing it. She wracked her brain trying to think of what might cause such a thing, coming to the conclusion that he indeed must have been having an adverse reaction; only the book had given no indication that such a thing was even a remote possibility.

            She hissed sharply as his fingers dug into her wrists and her eyes turned back to him. “Make it…stop…” he all but moaned, slowly beginning to twitch, bucking at the air beneath the blanket. “Please…”

            How on earth was she meant to stop an erection that reached sensational climax without releasing in the physical sense? “Okay…just…okay…” she said the panic no longer controlled as it rose through her voice. “Hang on, alright?” she said, and drew her wand, summoning forth an enormous tome to her hands. It came whizzing from in the other room and nearly knocked her back with the sheer size of it.

            Blasting open the book she began flipping through pages until she paused, her eyes sweeping the text. “Manual stimulation— have you tried manual stimulation?” she asked, gazing up at him from the book.

            “N-no…” he grunted, turning his head hard into the pillow and growling as his body began to shake fully as it had when she’d first entered the room. The sounds he made were similar to the ones she’d heard him make when her massages had resulted in his climax; the same as the growls in the shower when he’d slammed her hard against the wall and fucked her with wild abandon; those sounds of pleasure now sounded distorted, a twisted agony as if the pleasure was too much to bear.

            She didn’t have time to think about how it was a repeat of the torture she’d put him through. She didn’t have time to worry that she’d traumatized him by jerking him off the day prior. All she could do was rush to his side, clutching his hand in hers, dragging it beneath the blanket. As she did she felt him move his fingers, laying his palm on top of her hand, lacing his digits with hers, guiding her to cup his rock hard cock. She’d never felt him; or any other man, that hard before. He groaned at her touch.

            Hermione closed her eyes and curled her fingers around his length, his own fingers curled around hers; guiding her as he had the first time she’d helped him. She began to stroke him, up and down, hard, curling her palm over his tip and as she did his soft cries grew sharper; his rasping breaths more labored. He was sitting up in the bed mostly now, his other hand clutching hers and pulling it beneath the blanket as well. She kept her eyes closed as he pulled her hand to cup his balls, squeezing her hand. She squeezed his balls and he released a moan.

            Severus began to jerk and Hermione quickened her pace, feeling his hands pressing on her urgently as his body began to spasm. His cry was silent as he fell back against the bed, his hips bucking wildly, both hands falling free from hers. She pumped him hard and fast and his balls tensed in her palm; a sudden hard rush of hot seed shooting forth from his tip. He came over her hand, his seed shooting through her fingers and sliding down her hand. It seemed as if he was coming harder and longer than usual; an excessive amount of his release building up in her hand.

            Finally she felt his head recoil and pushing the blanket aside she breathed a sigh of great relief seeing that his member was beginning to fall flaccid against his thigh. “Scurigfy,” she muttered cleaning her hand and his thighs and then she glanced at him. ‘Are you alright?” she asked, concerned, though just the tiniest bit flushed.

            Severus’s head was buried in the pillow and at first she thought perhaps he’d intentionally suffocated himself. Hesitantly she reached her hand forward to touch his shoulder. He slowly lifted his head from the pillow, face drained of all color. He gazed at her, slowly shaking his head. “Please just put me out of my misery,” he muttered.

            “You’re going to be alright,” she said, though she didn’t really know what in the world to think of all that had just happened. “I’m going to sit here with you, and…keep an eye on you…and read through that…see if it has any suggestions…so if…things happen…”

            “Wonderful,” he muttered turning his head back into the pillow. “Just what I need, boner patrol.”

            Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and then cupped her hand to her mouth to keep from gasping. He was being sarcastic. She smiled behind her hand and then placed her hand once more on her shoulder. “Get your head out of the pillow before you suffocate, Severus.”

            Grumbling he lifted his head and then narrowed his eyes at her. “And give you the satisfaction of masturbating my corpse? I think not.” She couldn’t contain her grin. “What in the devil are you grinning about?” he snapped.

            “You’re you,” she said.

            Severus rolled his eyes. “How very observational, Miss Granger.”

            She giggled and this caused him to scowl. “While you may find this a laughing matter I certainly do not. Having the hands of my former student all over me in such a manner is—”

            “Is…” she trailed off shaking her head for a moment. “Is at the moment doing you a world of good…” she trailed off and then tilted her head to the side. A light bulb seemed to flicker in her mind. “I think I have an idea…”

            “Merlin help us all,” he muttered.

            Hermione pointed a sharp gaze at him. “Try to rest, your body has been through enough,” she said and then carefully draped both blankets back over his body. Summoning a chair into the room she lifted the heavy ancient tome and curled up in the seat with her feet tucked up beneath her. “If I’m right…” she gazed at him with a rather amused smirk. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before…”

            “Miss Granger, would you be so kind as to spit it out?”

            “Sex will cure you.”

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The Massage