Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Story of H	By : AnyaToile Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 62388 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters associated with it; I am not making any sort of money or compensation for this work.

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“No,” came a sharp reply, “You will take the entire bag in one sitting and may I remind you, Miss Granger, that if you fail to hold that nozzle which I see is slipping ever so slightly, you will be forced to finish what is left in this bag and take another quart and a half.”

Hermione could tell from his voice there was no room for argument. She glanced up at the hanging bag and realized how very full it still looked. There was at least half a bag left if not three fourths.

She felt the strange sensation of the nozzle slipping half an inch; terrified, she reached behind her, her wrists at such an odd angle that it took her a moment to locate the nozzle. She didn’t get a chance to push it back in because as soon as her fingers made contact she felt a sharp slap on her bottom. Snape had launched himself from his chair and smacked her harshly.

“Hey!”

“What do you think you’re doing Miss Granger?” Snape’s smooth voice contained a hint of danger as he spoke, “Did I not tell you to remain perfectly still?”

“Yes, sir, but…”

“And if you are to remain perfectly still, that would include your arms as well, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, but I was only…”

“Silence!” Snape’s voice thundered off the walls of the bathroom and Hermione found herself covering her head with her arms reflexively.

“May I continue without your constant interruption, Miss Granger?” Snape’s voice was once again the smooth baritone that almost seemed to caress her, yet, it retained that command that had her cowering.

Unsure of her voice, Hermione simply looked up and nodded her head.

The nozzle slipped a little further and Hermione clenched every muscle possible to keep it lodged inside of her.

“I told you that the consequences for disobeying would be severe, didn’t I?”

“Yes, sir.” Hermione’s voice quivered not just from fear, but from the strain of fighting against her instinct to bare down with each cramp that rolled through her bowels.

Her eyes followed the professor’s movements as he clamped the hose once more and the flow of water stopped. A glance at the bag told Hermione that she had a little less than half to go at this point; she prayed he wouldn’t make her take an additional one since she hadn’t actually leaked any and the nozzle was still safely inside of her – for how long, she wasn’t sure though.

“Hold the nozzle in place with your right hand, Miss Granger, and stand up,” his voice had taken on a dismissive tone as if he was occupied with something else.

Hermione reached between her legs and felt for the nozzle, grasped it, and carefully maneuvered herself on the platform and onto the cold tile. The pressure on her bottom was so great that she left out a strangled cry as she tensed her muscles to avoid the massive accident she knew would happened eventually if she remained upright. She bent forward, still holding the nozzle and slowly slid it all the way back inside of her. Meanwhile, Snape had unhooked the bag from where it hung on the chandelier.

“Follow me, and stand up straight,” his voice was cold, but before he had a chance to turn away from her, Hermione spied a slight smirk on his lips.

She shakily raised herself to full height and waddled rather ungracefully towards a corner of the room, her fingers still grasping the nozzle firmly. Snape hung the bag on a hook in the corner that was about eye-level for him.

“Press your nose into the corner, Miss Granger.”

Hermione scrunched her face up and was about to say something when she realized that she had no dignity left to defend; her stomach was distended with the fecal contents of three days and the water that her potions professor had forced into her; she was naked from the waist down; and her thighs were slick with her own juices because she somehow found this all very arousing. Standing in the corner like some child couldn’t be the worst of the night, she decided. Hermione found herself leaning forward slightly so that only her nose touched the cold marble. Suddenly, she found her entire body being forced against it. She tried to recoil from the freezing stone, but Snape’s hands forced against it.

“You really must work on your posture, Miss Granger. Stand up straight with you head over your shoulders, your shoulders over your hips, and your hips over your feet.”

Hermione relaxed a bit and found herself so lost in the contrast of the cold, smooth tiles against her front and the warm, slightly scratchy wool of Snape’s pants behind her that she didn’t realize he had batted her hand away from the nozzle.

She did notice when he took her hands and cuffed them to either wall above her head – what sort of bathroom was this that readily had shackles and hooks and platforms that raised and lowered?

She said nothing until she sensed rather than saw or felt him crouch behind her. He parted her legs and grabbed the nozzle before it could slip completely out of her. He twisted as he pushed it up and then pulled it back out. Hermione’s knees went weak at the sensations which bordered on painful. He continued moving it up and down for what felt like eternity, the pace rotating between excruciatingly slow to being so quick that she wasn’t sure if the nozzle was being forced up or being pulled down.

When she spoke, she realized that she had begun to cry.

“Sir, is this necessary?”

Snape said nothing but gave the nozzle several quick turns.

“Sir!” Hermione shouted, “I don’t think this is appropriate!”

Snape laughed hollowly as he let go of the nozzle and watched it slide down so that only the small head was still inside of her. He pushed her legs together.

“Squeeze tightly because you will clean any messes made tonight.”

“Sir!”

Hermione pulled at her arms, trying to free them from the cuffs but found not only where they stuck fast, but that they were at such an angle that she couldn’t move her upper body away from the corner at all. She didn’t dare try to move her lower body for fear of losing the nozzle.

Snape’s voice came from her at a distance, “We will discuss the appropriateness of this after both the treatment and punishment have ended.”

Hermione could hear clinking and clanking from the direction that Snape’s voice had come from and deduced that he was at the platform she had been on.

Hermione didn’t have time to speculate what he was doing, however, as the cramping that tore through her was so intense she screamed out and arched her low back as she clenched every muscle in her arse to keep the nozzle firmly in place. If it slipped, she’d be standing in a huge puddle of her own excrement, and if she knew the sadistic nature of Snape as well as she thought, she would probably be cleaning it up with her toothbrush.

“Fuck!” She screamed as another cramp rippled through her.

This couldn’t be appropriate. Hermione raked her brain for information concerning archaic and abnormal punishments used throughout Hogwart’s history, but could not recall ever reading of the employment of enemas as such. She was also positive that restraining students had been completely outlawed by the board of governors in 1953. And earlier, it was almost like he had been molesting her with the nozzle. Her cheeks flamed with the knowledge that as he had done so, her thighs had gleamed with moisture from her quim.

Finally, her burning muscles gave out and she resigned herself that on the next cramp, she would have to face the humiliating situation of having an accident in front of the man who had made her cry every year that she had been at Hogwarts.
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The Story of H