Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Problem With Spitting	By : hot_stuff11 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 17420 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of JKR's OCs, nor am I profiting from this work of fanfiction in any way.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
A/N: Here is where the "whisper of rape" comes in. I know a lot of people dislike "she was being raped, but then she started to like it" stories. This is not one of those! However, as I warned previously, the fact that Snape doesn't know Hermione is willing, and is still determined to have her could be offensive to some. If you are "some", please stop reading here. =)

H'okay. If you're still with me: the (VERY LEMONY) lemon begins here. Other warnings: language and coarse terms for body parts (c-word, etc). I think that's it!

I still don't own HP. =(

SS/SS/SS/SS

Snape could hardly wait for the end of the class period. He had been noticing Miss Granger's headlong leap into womanhood for months now, noting the plump breasts, slender waist, and lusciously rounded hips, and now she had given him the opportunity he craved. The little chit. How dare she spit in his face? He would punish her. Oh, yes. His mouth watered at the thought.

For years, he had wanted to discipline her for her know-it-all attitude and propensity for interrupting his lectures, although his urge to do so had always entailed strictly non-sexual fantasies of stuffing her latest thirty page parchment into her mouth (her missives took forever to grade!), stringing her up from the dungeon ceiling by her fingernails, and berating her for hours upon end in blissful silence with absolutely no interruptions. It was only recently that he had begun to imagine other, much more delicious ways of silencing her.

Her action had been completely unexpected, cowed as she always seemed to be by him. In fact, her little act of defiance aroused him greatly, although he would never let her know that. That would be to encourage such behavior, and he was still an educator, albeit one with extreme flaws and questionable morals. It was refreshing to see her stand up for herself, even if her newfound ability to express anger had taken the form of a massive wad of spittle launched directly at his face. If there was anything he loathed more than a know-it-all, it was a doormat, and today, Hermione Granger had officially left that title behind her.

Oh, but she wasn't to be allowed to escape from this little indiscretion unscathed. A plan formulated in his mind. Being the son of a consummate abuser and wife-beater, he did not get off on degrading women, although he did enjoy a certain amount of power play and domination. He did, however, want to humiliate the girl as he slaked his lust on her. He had the powerful urge to strip Miss Granger of her academic veneer, of everything she held onto as a security blanket, and leave her feeling raw and exposed, both physically and emotionally. He–her hated and despised teacher–would tease her and touch her and stimulate her until she was mindlessly begging him to take her, and only then would he lay wand to her. Imagining what she might look like in the throes of passionate frustration made his upper lip curl into an animalistic sneer.

His cock was throbbing, and he pressed the heel of one large hand against the thick bulge, applying enough surreptitious pressure to enable him to think somewhat clearly. He had no idea what she thought of him, and he didn't much care. He was sufficiently skilled in the sexual arts to render him more than capable of dragging cries of fulfillment from her ripe young body, willing or not. In his experience, he had found that forced orgasms were all the more erotic. He did not do rape, although there was a fine line between that and the type of behavior he wanted to engage in with Miss Granger. It was a line he enjoyed walking, however. She would not be unwilling. Far from it. He would make her want it. Make her scream for it.

Watching her bent over her books with a slightly dejected air, it was all he could do not to dismiss the class early so that he could have his way with her. He pushed that tantalizing thought away, however; such an odd action on his part would not go unnoticed, and would undoubtedly have problematic ramifications. All he needed was for Dumbledore to barge through his wards to determine what had happened to him, only to discover him buried in a student. No. He was more than capable of waiting, and wait he did.

The instant that the minute hand of the clock reached the hour, however, he growled a dismissal to the class, and the cowed students scrambled over themselves in their eagerness to remove themselves from his presence. Before the last one was out the door, he was making his way smoothly to Miss Granger's desk, and the instant the heavy slam echoed throughout the dungeon room, he was on her, bending over her desk with both palms flat on the surface.

"Insolent little bint," he snarled at her, as she leapt up in alarm. Growling deep in his chest, he backed her slowly up against the side wall of the classroom, relishing the fear that instantly made itself apparent in her wide chocolate eyes.

With an exaggerated movement of his hand, he cast a locking charm at the door. Normally he didn't telegraph the the spells he cast, but this was for effect. His intent was to terrify her, and it was quite clear that he had succeeded.

"Professor, I-I-" she stammered ineffectively, squealing with fright as she found hard stone at her back. Her eyes flicked to the now locked door, then back his face.

"You-you-what?" he hissed dangerously, slamming her against the wall with the full force of his lean, muscled body. She smelled delicious. She was soft, so fucking soft against him, and he was frantically hungry. His mouth watered, and his belly literally growled as though he were starving. "Talk fast, Miss Granger. I'm waiting."

She squirmed helplessly against him, and he ground his teeth on a moan as her struggles brought her writhing body in close and repetitive contact with his aching cock. Bringing his hand up to her throat, he gripped the smooth column none too gently, applying enough pressure to make her choke for air. Roughly, he yanked up her school skirt, grunting as his fingers slipped along the slickness of her inner thighs. The fragrance of her painfully obvious excitement wafted into the almost nonexistent space between their bodies, and he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring.

Being the experienced man that he was, he knew instantly that the girl was not only willing, but also eager. He had suspected it earlier in class, when he had caught a hint of something musky as he stood above her. He had dismissed it as too improbable, but he had been wrong. It wasn't just her body that was responding to him, either. She genuinely seemed to be enjoying his manhandling of her, if the glazed, burning look in her eyes was any indication.

He didn't know whether to feel disappointed that his ultimate sexual victory over her would be less satisfying, or ecstatic that he needn't waste time baiting her before bending her to his will. Literally.

"You little slut," he rasped at her, his heart pounding with frantic lust. "So wet, so juicy. Tell me, Miss Granger, do you like being pushed up against walls by your Professors?"

She made a little gasping sound, trying to get enough air to answer him, but he merely increased the pressure, smiling cruelly as she clutched desperately at his sinewy forearm, fingers clawing futilely.

"Don't strain yourself," he mocked her. "Your dripping little cunt is telling me everything I need to know."

He released his grip on her throat and she began to slump to the floor, taking in great gulps of air to fill her starved lungs. He helped her along her downward path with a firm push to the top of her head.

"Let's see what else your pretty mouth can do besides recite lengthy, irritating textbook answers to my questions," he growled, tearing at the straining buttons of his trousers. As his thick cock sprang out, he fisted his hand in her wild hair, and dragged her forward, ignoring her fright at his size.

"Open up," he demanded, tugging her head back till she gasped. Instantly, he shoved himself into her mouth with a groan of relief, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as she began to apply suction to the mushroom head, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked.

"Yesssss," he hissed, his voice gravelly, despite his best efforts at maintaining its usual silken tone. "Now this is an appropriate use for your saliva, Miss Granger."

To be continued...
- 1
- 2
- 3
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

The Problem With Spitting