Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Book One - Master Mine: A Lesson in Submission	By : Lissa & snowblind12 Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 58471 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with JK Rowling or The Harry Potter franchise in anyway. I make no money off my stories.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter Three
The Master listened to Jonathan’s reiteration of Granger’s story with lit eyes and a thumb and forefinger covering his smirk. So, Granger thought she was a sexual submissive. Christmas had apparently come early for him this year. Now, how to go about presenting himself to her? Starting with the mask and a chat and then moving forward was probably his best bet. He would do nothing with her until he revealed his identity.
“Take her to my private quarters.” The brooding wizard instructed his employee with no trace of emotion. He watched as Jonathan hid a grin. “Explain to her the submissive pose and help her get into it. Tell her she must remain there. I will leave before I speak to her if she’s in any other position when I arrive. She may stay clothed if she prefers.”
“I like this one, sir,” he said over his shoulder as he quickly left to comply with his boss’ wishes. “She seems bright. Maybe even bright enough for you to not leave your first session calling her a dunderhead, yeah?”
The Master didn’t deign this worthy of a response. He highly doubted Granger had the personality or mindset to let go of her need to be in control long enough to become a submissive. Then he was assaulted with the remembered look of her eyes dropping to the floor, her voiced laced with apology after she had grabbed his wrist. She obviously knew something of submissive behavior.
Thirty minutes later, he left the security portal for his rooms. She’d had plenty of time to really work herself up into a tizzy. He fully expected her to be seated on a couch with her arms and legs crossed tightly over her body, furious with him for making her wait so long.
He had never been so delighted to be wrong. He opened the door to his rooms to find Hermione Granger’s slender back and tumbles of frizzy chestnut curls greeting him. She was at the end of the entry way in a seated kneel, both palms behind her head, elbows out to the side. Her back was ramrod straight, thrusting her breasts out in front of her. He rounded her slowly, and her eyes never lifted from the floor. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, taking in her lewdly parted knees, the skirt of her sinful dress riding high on her thighs.
She was trembling with her efforts. Holding this position could be difficult, especially for a new sub that hadn’t experience the pleasures and detachment of subspace. He stepped in front of her and held out a hand, palm up. “You may stand, Miss Granger.” He said softly. He waited patiently as she took a deep breath before allowing her arms to fall. She planted both palms on the floor and adjusted herself into a tall kneel. Her muscles were shaking with their fatigue.
“I’m sorry, sir. I need a moment, please.”
The wizard’s eyebrows rose even as his cock twitched its approval of her polite request with the tacked-on sir. It was not the first time tonight she had called him such, and he liked it. Liked that he didn’t have to demand it of her as he thought he would have to. Liked that there was something different about a woman of Miss Granger’s caliber treating him with such respect and reverence. A moment later, her hand shot out to catch his palm and he helped pull her to her feet, one arm instinctively encircling her waist as her knees buckled. There was a crackle of electricity that startled him. Gods, but she was tiny. That in and of itself was a massive turn on for him. He’d be able to throw her around a bed or a room with minimal effort, to manipulate her any way he desired without her size being a hindrance, whether fucking her up against a wall or hoisting her onto a St. Andrew’s Cross – she would be like lifting a child. She was maybe five-feet, two-inches tall. If she weighed over 110 pounds, he’d eat his own dragon hide boots. How such a formidable personality could reside in such a tiny body was beyond him. It made her all the more captivating.
He helped her to the davenport and she sat gratefully, searching his masked face for a moment. “I wish to give you permission to talk freely, Miss Granger.” He said once she was comfortable. He handed her a glass of red wine and she took it warily.
“I thank you, sir,” she said demurely, still not meeting his eyes.
“I expect your tone to maintain politeness and respect at all time. One wrong move from you and this session ends. Tell me you understand.” He watched her take a sip of her drink.

“I understand, sir.” To say he was blown out of the water would be an understatement. He’d followed her career – to be honest, it was hard not to. Hot shot lawyer in the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. Tons of pro bono work for magical creatures and battered women. She was in the papers at least every other week. To think that she could hold a respectful conversation with a Dominant was almost laughable, but here she was. Doing it.
He waited.
“You’re the same man who greeted me.”
“I am.”
She nodded slowly and raised her eyes to his face. “May I assume Jonathan filled you in on my history? Or lack thereof?”
“He did, Miss Granger.” He felt himself warm to her a bit, she was obviously nervous. She was brand new to this world and taking an extraordinary leap of faith entrusting herself to someone she thought was a complete stranger. She definitely had courage.
“Are you a trained Dominant?”
“I am.”
“Your experience?”
He paused. He was going to age himself greatly in her young eyes. “Just shy of thirty years, all thought I participated very little in the lifestyle during the war.”
This seemed to startle her, but then she brushed it aside. “Not that it really matters, but your age?”
“I will be forty-six after Christmas.”
“You’ve been a Dominant since your late teens?” She sounded surprised, but there was a tinge of something else. Jealousy? That seemed odd.
He answered in the affirmative.
“It must have been nice to be so sure of yourself at such a young age. I would have absolutely recoiled if anyone had suggested this to me even a few months ago.”
“It often takes a surprise encounter or unexpected exposure for people to become interested in this lifestyle, Miss Granger.” He reached up with a hand to brush his fingers across his jaw. His stubble was starting to itch. He’d have to shave before bed.
“I’m interested.” She set her wine down on the side table before crossing her legs and lacing her fingers around her knee.
“I surmised as much,” he said softly. “I am willing to give you an introductory session. If you find yourself further intrigued, I will help you find a Dominant willing to train you. Depending upon how you … perform … that is. I won’t risk my reputation with a potential submissive who can’t hold her tongue or follow instructions.”
She was quiet for a moment, contemplating this information. When she finally spoke, he was astonished with the direction of her thoughts.
“You would not take me as a trainee?” She felt that last word was out of place, but didn’t know exactly how else to phrase it.
“It would be exceedingly … rare … for me to train a submissive. I never have before.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t help but think of the way his touch had left a trail of fire across her skin. His assistance getting her off the floor would have flooded her knickers…if she had been wearing any. “If I were to perform to your liking tonight, would you consider training me?”
His eyebrows shot above his mask and she felt a thrill of excitement zing through her. She had surprised him.
“Miss Granger, I think you know not what you’re asking.”
“You say my name as if you know me.”
Here it was. Time to reveal himself. “That’s because I do know you, Miss Granger. And you know me.”
This made the girl freeze, her lovely caramel eyes widening behind her mask. “I-I do?”
“You do.”
“Are you going to…?”
“First, I want you to know that I am the owner of this establishment. I wish to assure you that your appearance here will not be spoken of. If anyone were to ever breathe a word of the goings on in this club, they would be severely punished to the full extent of the law. Being you are a very well-known lawyer, I believe you know what that entails.”
“Yes, sir.” Her voice was very small. She was trembling again. He didn’t blame her, he could only imagine what was flying through her mind.
“I would like for you to remove your mask,” he said quietly. She gave a jerky nod before lifting trembling fingers to her mask and muttering the releasing spell. She set it aside and returned her eyes to him.
“You are under no obligation to remain in this room or in this establishment. Do you understand what I am saying?”
“Yes, sir.” She gave another curt nod and he had to bite his cheek to not grin at her. The poor girl’s expression was translucent in her nervousness, the lovely smattering of freckles over her nose even more prominent with the pallor of her face.
“If, after I remove my mask, you find yourself wishing to leave, you may do so with no questions asked. You may even return next weekend to seek out Master Etan and Rose, if you’d like. They should be back by then. You will not be subjected to my presence again. I cannot promise you we would not see each other from time to time, but I would not seek you out. However, if you wish to stay, to have a lesson this evening, you will remove your dress and come kneel in front of me in the submissive position you were taught so I may inspect you. I wish to hear you say, ‘I accept your terms’ before we begin. When you answer my questions, you will call me sir at the end of every sentence. For every time you do not call me sir, you will receive five spankings. Tell me now that you understand what I am saying.”
“I understand, sir.” Hermione answered. Bloody hell, just listening to him talk like that was doing amazing things to her body. She almost didn’t even care who he was.
Slowly he reached to his mask, his fingers locking on the edges. He fully expected her to bolt the moment she realized who he was. He muttered the releasing spell and pulled the mask away, watching her carefully.
Her eyes widened almost comically, a hand fluttering up to cover her mouth which had popped open in surprise. “P-professor?”
He didn’t respond, feeling her exclamation did not warrant it. As much as he was prepared for her to leap to her feet and flee, he was stealing himself against the disappointment that would cause. He knew he was not a very attractive man, or a kind man for that matter. This fit his Dominant persona extremely well. That did not mean, however, that he didn’t have feelings that could be hurt or an ego that could be bruised.
He watched in fascination as her face morphed from honest to goodness disbelief into a smooth mask. A mask he recognized as Occlumency shields sliding into place.
Hermione stared at her ex-professor in cool appraisal. She knew her Occlumency shields had removed any emotion from her face. Her body, however, was wracked with tremors fiercer then she had ever experienced before. She was attempting to objectively analyze her predicament.
Professor Severus Snape was an enigma. A force to be reckoned with – he always had been. Sitting here with him, knowing now that he had been a sexual Dominant almost two thirds of his life explained many things in her mind.
He was relatively unchanged. The intervening years hadn’t done much in the way of aging him, but he was at the point in his adult life where the aging process slowed tremendously. Most magical humans remained unchanged from their early forties to their early eighties. The changes that had occurred were for the better. His hair was cropped short. She could have never imagined him with such short hair, so it was a shock. No wonder why she’d had zero clue who he was. She wondered if he always wore it this way now, or if it were something new he was trying. It was a bit…wrong on him…but didn’t look bad. Without the length, it was definitely less greasy.
His complexion was no longer sallow, but he was still as pale as death. His skin practically glowed with its whiteness. It was healthy, though. He had some color in his cheeks and he had filled out. No longer the too skinny man of her past. Oh, he was still slender, but a fit slender. She wondered if he was as strong as he appeared to be. His chest and shoulders seemed broader then she remembered.

It looked as though he’d had some dental work done, not that they had been awful when she knew him in her youth, just a bit crooked, a little yellowed. However, with magical fixes, there was really no reason not to have proper dental work done. It only prolonged your overall health. They were now straight and even and white.
Nothing could really change the fact he was an unattractive man, but he wasn’t ugly. Unique looking, really. Old English royalty. Regal nose, severe brow - not a beautiful man, but a man whose looks she could grow to find attractive. Nothing like her coyote-ugly one-night-stand.
She really was quite ready to test the waters of this new sexual fantasy of hers. With his mask on, he had been dark and mysterious. He presented a striking form – tall, lean, strong. The reveal of his face didn’t change any of that. If she was honest with herself, the fact that she knew this man who had set her skin on fire was comforting.
Did she know Severus Snape on a deep level? Not in the least. However, she knew him to be brave and noble. Intelligent – very intelligent – intuitive, honorable, protective. These were all adjectives which described this wizard – and they were attractive features in and of themselves. Everything he had done for the side of the Light during the second Wizarding War made that an undeniable fact. Even if he was a cantankerous, surly git.
She almost felt…lucky. She was entering what could be a dangerous world. If she wasn’t careful, she could get mixed up with the wrong people. Right here, right now, this turn of events seemed like a sign that she was moving in the right direction. She made her decision.
She let her Occlumency shields slip and dropped her eyes to the floor. Very slowly she stood, reaching behind herself to undo the charm that held up the self-zipping zipper. She felt it part along her back. Not rushing, she moved her right hand to her left wrist and pulled the sleeve off her arm before switching and doing the same to her right. She held the dress to her chest for a breath, trying to steady herself before letting it drop, revealing her nude, thigh high stockings and her naked form. She knew what she looked like, and wasn’t embarrassed to be naked. She was tiny, and had a slender hour glass form. Perky B cup breasts (that were closer to being a C, but a B bra did wonderful things to her cleavage) with dark pink nipples, a shadow of a four-pack, her hips flared nicely. She had long legs, even with how short she was. Her face may be plain, but she made up for her lack of traditional beauty with a well-shaped body that she took meticulous care of.
She had painstakingly shaved everything this evening. Leaving her bare except for a strip of neatly trimmed pubic hair. Every other surface of her body was silky smooth and glowing with a bronzer lotion she favored.
She heard a sharp intake of breath and had to pull in another stabilizing lungful of air. He had said nothing about her stockings or heels, so she carefully stepped out of the pool of crimson fabric. She took two steps towards him and sank gracefully to her knees, sitting her bum on her ankles, spreading her knees and raising her hands behind her head, elbows pointing out. “I accept your terms, sir.” She whispered in a wavering voice. She did not make eye contact, keeping them directed at his feet. She was utterly exposed to him. Her breasts thrust out, her pussy wide open. She knew he had probably been expecting her to have knickers on at least, even if she hadn’t been wearing a bra.
“Release the lifting charm on your breasts.” The command was said through gritted teeth and Hermione had to stifle a smirk. She had caught him off guard. She loved that she could make his voice sound like that.
“There is no lifting charm on my breasts, sir,” she stated quietly. She heard him swear softly before watching as he rose to his feet and started to circle her. Her heart was thrumming like a hummingbird’s and her respirations were picking up painfully. She concentrated on filling her lungs with every breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She felt a flush creeping up chest and neck to spread over her face and cheeks. No one had looked at her naked form this close (outside from herself) since she was maybe four years old. She started to tremble again as her fatigued muscles protested the position she had been forced into too long less than fifteen minutes ago.
“You have a very delectable body, Miss Granger.” Snape’s voice was gravely and did things to her that she would have never expected. “I am sure you have been told that before.”
“No, sir.”
“No?” Snape sounded incredulous for a moment. “Then you have been with a bunch of dunderheads, Miss Granger.”
She felt her blush deepen with pleasure.
“I am going to ask you some personal questions. I expect you to answer them honestly and quickly. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many sexual partners have you had?”
“Eight, sir.”
“Do you have any sexually transmitted diseases or could you be pregnant?”
“No, sir.” Then after a beat, she added. “To both questions, sir.”
“When is the last time you were intimate?”
“Six-and-a-half-months ago, sir.”
There was a long pause after this one.
“Do you know what a safeword is, Miss Granger?”
She didn’t hesitate, just started reciting. “A safeword is a code word used by a submissive to unambiguously communicate their physical or emotional state to a Dominant, typically when approaching or crossing a physical, emotional, or moral boundary, sir. They can be used to stop the scene outright while other safewords can communicate a willingness to continue, but at a reduced level of intensity, sir.”
Snape had to press his lips together to keep from saying something scathing. She had pretty much memorized the definition of a safeword verbatim. Much like she did in her classes at school. He rolled his eyes, letting out a small breath. “Quite right, Miss Granger. How about you use your own words and tell me again?”
She blushed scarlet and he stifled a laugh. “Sorry, sir. I have a photographic memory, sir. It’s just easier to repeat what I see in my head, sir.”
“That actually explains a lot, Miss Granger,” he said begrudgingly. “Now, your own words.”
“A safeword is put in place for a submissive to let a Dominant know to stop all actions immediately, sir. More than one safeword can be put into place, sir. For example, a submissive could use the safeword ‘yellow’ to warn her dominant that they are reaching their limit and the safeword ‘red’ to let her dominant know their limit has been reached and all actions need to stop immediately. Sir.”
“Precisely. The examples you just used will be your safewords this evening, Miss Granger. If you so choose, you can come up with something more creative for the future.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know what your limits are, Miss Granger?”
“No, sir. I have not explored this in real life in any capacity, sir. I have no idea what my limits are, sir. There are many, many things that I am intrigued to try, sir.”
“Give me some examples.” There was a pause and he watched her take a deep, steadying breath, obviously embarrassed. Then the words started to stream out of her.
“Spanking, paddling, riding crops, floggers – the floggers are especially enthralling for me, sir. I watched a video online that left me absolutely breathless, sir. I’m interested in restraints and other forms of bondage, sir. Rope play…and, well, suspension looks very exciting – but also quite terrifying, sir. I wouldn’t object to multiple partners – I’m more interested in being with two men than another woman, but I’m not opposed to being with another woman, sir. Role play, anal play, plugs, anal intercourse – ”
He broke off her rapid fast, embarrassing declarations with a grin she didn’t see. Her blush was so deep, he could see it in the roots of her hair. “Let’s just say you’re open to explore.”
“Yes, sir.” It was a whisper. She sounded thankful that she had been interrupted.
“Do you have any hard limits – things you know you absolutely do not want to try?”
“Blood play, sir.” The answer was firm, definite. “Anything that would leave permanent marks or pierce the skin is out for me, sir. Fisting looks terribly uncomfortable as well, sir – but I’m not completely and totally opposed, just hesitant, sir. Insertion of odd objects also makes me skittish, sir.”
This time he wasn’t able to hold back a laugh. “Very well, Miss Granger.”
“Permission to speak freely for a moment, sir.”
This request made him pause, amazed. From what he understood, everything she had learned about being a sexual submissive was done through reading – and apparently some online videos. She obviously had read a lot. “Granted.”
“Thank you, sir. I find myself being very relieved to have found myself here with you tonight, sir.” She let out a slow breath as his mind tried to wrap around that startling statement. “While I know I do not know you on a personal level, sir, I do feel I know enough about you and your character to confidently place my trust in you, sir. I would feel comfortable having you test my limits, sir.”
He was stunned with her admission, and uncharacteristically touched. It took a full minute for him to respond. “I welcome your candor, Miss Granger. Your … trust … in me is … it’s appreciated.”
“You’re welcome, sir. It’s only the truth, sir.”
He was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He was very unused to people putting their trust in him so quickly – if at all. Often times, one glance at the mark on his arm and scenes ended fairly abruptly. That was, until he’d learned to glamor the damned thing. He changed the subject swiftly. “How many times has someone besides yourself made you orgasm within half an hour?”
“Once, sir.”
“What do you mean, once? Are you unable to have multiple orgasms?” He sounded irritatingly confused by this answer.
“I have received three orgasms not done by my hand since I became sexually active at nineteen, sir. My partners have usually relied on my being able to induce my own pleasure, sir.”
Silence. Silence so deep it made her uncomfortable and she felt the need to rush, defend, and explain.
“It’s not that all my partners have been…well…” She changed her mind, it was as it was. She shouldn’t be embarrassed. “I guess you could say my sex life has been less than stimulating, sir.”
“Indeed.” Silence again, and then. “How many times can you get yourself off within thirty minutes, Miss Granger?”
“That’s a better question, sir,” she said, her face heated even as she smirked. Talking to Professor Snape – of all people – about orgasms. How did life get so surreal? “Most of the time I can get myself off between five and six times, sir. Once I made myself come ten times in thirty-five minutes, but I haven’t been able to repeat that experience, sir.”
More silence.
That stretched on.
Then he cleared his throat. “Tell me how.”
“A Muggle novelty shop toy, sir. They call it The Rabbit, sir. It was the first time I had ever used a toy quite like that, sir.”
Snape had to bite back another laugh. He was familiar with the aforementioned toy. His cock was getting hard. Ten times in thirty-five minutes was quite impressive.
“Tell me about other toys you use.”
“Oh. Um.” She bit her lip and he almost groaned, watching that plump, juicy bit of skin as it disappeared into her mouth. He continued to circle her, relishing the high spots of color on her cheek bones, her breasts were works of art topped with pink points of pleasure. She was in excellent shape, lightly defined muscles, minimal body fat, toned legs. He approved whole heartedly of the dark strip of neatly trimmed pubic hair that covered her sex. Most young women these days preferred to go bare – it made him slightly uncomfortable. He wasn’t really interested in bedding girls. His questions were embarrassing her, which he found lovely. “I have bullet, a Hitachi wand, nipple clamps, a moderately sized dildo that vibrates, and a small anal plug, sir.”
He couldn’t have been more surprised if she had told him she’d fucked the entire Slytherin Quidditch team. Nipple clamps? An anal plug? Fucking hell, she was more adventurous than he had given her credit for. Very interesting.

“How big is ‘moderately sized?’” He was feeling snarky, relishing the crimson of her blush across her breasts.

“Seven inches, sir.”
“Hmm. So, a bit above average. Have you used these toys with any of your partners?”
“Oh, no, sir.”
This confused him. “Why not?”
“I asked once, sir.” She said quietly. “My partner at the time told me it was repugnant and he wouldn’t use them with me.” Her voice broke off for a split second, and he was saddened to find her ducking her head lower, her lips trembled slightly before she continued, obviously bothered by the memory. “I was horribly embarrassed and never worked up the nerve to be shot down quite like that again.” He swore silently, angry for her and at the idiot who had made her so uncomfortable with her own sexuality. Her voice was small, and he almost regretted what he had to do after she had shared such a sensitive bit of information, but he had told her the consequences. It was time to get the snitch flying.
“You have earned yourself ten spankings, Miss Granger. Tell me what you forgot to do.”
Her breath hitched and a fresh wave of embarrassment flooded her cheeks. She looked up and met his eyes for the first time since she had stripped. He almost recoiled at her devastation, but held himself in check. The look was reminiscent of all the times he failed to give her credit where credit had been due. When she had worked hard and hadn’t received any reward for her efforts. It bothered him when it shouldn’t. She had not followed the rules, she was told she would be punished if she made a mistake.

“I forgot to call you sir at the end of my last two sentences.” She whispered, clearly horrified. He searched her eyes for a split second before turning away from her, outwardly indifferent to her predicament.
“And you just earned yourself five more. Stand.” He said coolly. She berated herself internally for her childish mistake. He sounded so disappointed, which made her heart ache with shame. It was the only directive he had given her and she had already messed it up – three times in a row!
He did not offer to help her up this time. Even though she had been in position for less than fifteen minutes, it took her a few tries, but she finally made it to her feet, self-consciously folding her arms around her breasts. Her legs trembled with pins and needles.
“Put your arms down, witch.” He snapped. “You will not cover yourself under any circumstances, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!” It was a quick, startled reaction and she dropped her arms to her sides, her hands balling into fists.
“Bend over that table.” He indicated the small, round, wooden table just past the seating area. She studied it for a moment, wondering if he lived here. “Now!” It came out quite harsh, and she almost felt like she was back in third year Potions class.
She gave a startled yip and all but ran to the table. She stood before it awkwardly, not exactly sure how to go about what he was asking her to do, before feeling a none-too-gentle hand grab the hair at the base of her neck and firmly push her forward so that her breasts and face were smooshed into the table.

He allowed her to turn her cheek before pressing her face into the polished wood, not without a bit of force, she winced. He bent over and his deep voice was full of warning as he rumbled in her ear. “When I ask you to do something – when any Dominant asks you to do something – you comply swiftly with no hesitations. Now, I am being a bit lenient with you because this is your first experience, but that will change quickly in this world. The retributions your Dominant’s will seek will be immediate and unyielding, and sometimes quite painful – depending upon your transgression. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Her whisper was barely audible, but apparently enough for him, because he released her.
She was trembling again, her body jerking slightly with the ferocity of her emotions. Her breaths were coming in quick gasps and she could already feel herself getting wet. Well, more wet. If she were being honest with herself, she’d basically been noticeably aroused since the moment Jonathan had helped her into the submissive position inside this room. Tears burned her eyes in surprise. This all felt so wrong…but so right. She was so turned on. Why are his harsh words and rough handling a turn on? What in the world is the matter with me?
“Spread your legs.” She complied immediately. “Wider!” She obeyed hurriedly.
The first slap made her eyes pop wide as an “oomphf!” was pulled from her unwillingly. After that, she sealed her lips and tried not to make any noise. After three slaps, they started to come harder and another grunt escaped her. It didn’t hurt per say, but it wasn’t a picnic on the beach either. She gave a low groan in her throat as number eight caught the juncture of her thigh, slapping her pussy more than her bum. She thought she heard a low chuckle. Oh, my god. My ex-professor is spanking me like I’m some naughty two-year-old, and I like it. Each slap grew slightly more intense. By slap twelve, her hips were rolling fitfully and another moan of pleasure mixed with pain was pulled from her.
Slap thirteen fell on her sex again and sounded wet. She sucked a sharp intake of breath as she heard a low “Fucking hell!” leave his lips. Fourteen and fifteen landed hard on her right then left cheeks in quick succession, reverberating up her spine, causing a whimper of pain.
“Well, well, well.” Snape’s deep baritone followed the jolt up her spine but seemed to veer off to her nipples, making them tighten painfully. She jumped with a lascivious growl as she felt a finger graze her slit. “It quite appears you enjoyed that, Miss Granger. Perhaps I didn’t spank you hard enough? It was supposed to be a punishment.” She didn’t need to know she had been set up to fail. Say sir at the end of every sentence? That was a little much, even for him.
“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir!” She panted and he chuckled again. She realized that before tonight she had never heard him laugh before. It was a shame, she liked the sound of his laugh. Deep and throaty – extraordinarily masculine.
“Yes, you liked that? Or yes, I didn’t spank you hard enough?”
“Oh, gods.” Her brain was fuzzy and she was still breathless. Her body thrumming with life, her pussy screaming its need. She pulled herself together long enough to answer. “I liked it, sir. No, it didn’t need to be harder, but I wouldn’t object to more, sir.”
Snape raised an eyebrow at her slender back before slowly raising his hands to his belt buckle. “Shall we up the intensity?” It seemed to her a rhetorical question, but she didn’t want to disappoint him again.
“What do you have in mind, sir?” Her question was hesitant, a trace of nervousness was evident.
Time to push her a little harder. “How about you just shut that pretty little mouth and I’ll see to your needs…hmm?”
Part of her felt like she should be affronted by that statement. The rational part of her. The piece of her personality that didn’t allow her to be pushed around. The part that had to be strong to defend her choices, her friends, her clients. That’s part of the problem, though, yeah? Her need to be in control had never gotten her anywhere in her sex life and intimate relationships except unsatisfied and unfulfilled.
So, instead of letting out Hermione Granger, QC, Attorney at Law, she let out who she thought she wanted to learn to be: Hermione Granger, submissive. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, giving this man free reign with her body completely and instantaneously at his request. Hadn’t he already given her more pleasure and excitement in less than an hour than any of her previous lovers combined?
Snape stared at the back of her head in disbelief. He had been almost positive that nasty little statement would have pulled her personality out. He had been expecting her to snap at him, to whip around and tell him off. The fact that she had thought before she had answered baffled him. This was definitely not the school girl he remembered. He slowly took a couple of steps to the side to look at her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips drawn into a small frown. There was a crease of tension across her forehead. She had pulled her arms into herself, resting her face against one wrist. She looked…well she looked bloody beautiful. She also looked contemplative and sincere in her acquiescence.
He continued to remove his belt, sliding it through the loops as audibly as possible. He smirked when her respirations increased, knowing she must have figured out what he was about.
“This is not a punishment, Miss Granger,” he told her softly, using one hand to smooth over her reddened buttocks. “Take a couple deep breaths to calm yourself, and we’ll begin again.”
“Yes, sir.” Her voice was barely audible. He watched as she pulled in a slow breath, and then another, then he brought her back to reality with a smooth, strong thwap of his belt across her backside. He heard her quick inhalation of breath, it had surprised her, and then her back was arching for more. He stifled a groan and obliged, laying the next three in quick succession, watching her pant and roll her hips. He homed in on her slick sex and watched with utter fascination as a trickle of her arousal slid down one smooth, inner thigh. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a witch so wet.
“This is five,” he landed the blow. “Count and thank me after each stroke from here on out,” he demanded in a gravelly voice. He had to adjust himself, having grown hard quickly at her submission and heady arousal. He could smell her. Thus far, Hermione Granger was turning out to be a very interesting turn of events. He struck her again, harder than the last.
“Six! Thank you, sir.” She murmured.
“Louder,” he commanded. Thwap! Harder yet.
“Seven, thank you sir!” It came out louder, but between clenched teeth, so it was muffled.
Thwap! “Louder!” he ordered, adjusting himself again as she moaned, stamping one foot before getting back in position. Bloody fuck, she’s responsive.
She unclenched her jaw and forcefully said. “Eight! Thank you, sir!”
“Up on your toes, spread your legs wider.”
She complied without hesitancy, popping up onto the toes of her low heels and walking her feet a few more inches apart. Merlin, she has a beautiful pussy. I can’t believe she followed that directive without questions. Her folds were sparkling, his hardon was weeping. He landed the belt with even more force. It fell across the apex of her thighs, grazing her slit. The sound was wet and stole her breath. It was a full ten seconds before she squeaked out. “Nine. Thank you, sir!” Then air whooshed out of her.
THWAP!
The last stroke was the hardest he had struck her all night. Leaving a strip of white across her bum before fading back to pink. Her backside was a beautiful, rosy color at this point.
“Oww!” She tucked her knees slightly, panting quickly through her nose before straightening and raising her bum again. “Ten! Thank you, sir!” Her voice trembled, she sounded close to tears. He dropped the belt, palming her blazing cheeks with both hands before gently rubbing the heat with a gentle stroke. She had a lovely arse, too. Her entire body was absolutely stunning and apparently distracting, his thoughts kept coming back to his appreciation of it over and over again. She obviously took good care of herself. He liked that in a witch. Hell, he liked that in a fellow human being. It was something he had always prided himself in – physical fitness, good health. Even in his days of high stress during both wars he had managed to at least exercise and maintain his strength and stamina.
**********She sniffled, but a contented sigh left her lips as he continued to massage her bum with tender, light strokes. She didn’t move, staying almost perfectly still. Snape marveled at her control. He had never been with a witch who had stayed so calm during her very first encounter with a spanking – especially not their first encounter with a belt. Not that he’d come even close to giving it to her at full force, that would have left her bawling. It hadn’t been a punishment, though. She definitely would not have been able to restrain herself as admirably if she had been being punished.
“You’ve been a very good girl, Miss Granger.” His voice was thick with his own desire and he tried to clear his throat discreetly.
There was another sniffle and he sought her face out behind the mass of unruly brown curls. She had a soft smile on her lips and used her fingertips to wipe away a trickle of moisture at the corner of one eye. “Thank you, sir,” she whispered, pushing her bum back into his hands. He slid his other hand up her side and over the small of her back, following the line of her spine, trying to smooth the tension away.
A soft groan of pleasure escaped her and he stifled yet another visceral reaction. She was so bloody reactive, he was having a hard time getting over this fact. He had never anticipated his response to her to be so intense.
“I feel a reward is owed, do you consent?” There wasn’t even a beat before her hips were rolling and a hum filled her chest. Eagerness, excitement. Yes, she was ready. Now just the words needed to be said.
“Yes, sir. I consent, sir.”
He had almost hoped she’d slip in her answer and he’d get to spank her some more, but he was high on what they had done already. She was acting like a well-trained sub as it was, his prick was going to be permanently stuck to the inside of his trousers if he didn’t let it out soon. But first, a climax for the lioness. Something she had definitely not had enough of over these last years. Three climaxes not by her hand – the fools she must have slept with.
He slipped a finger into her slit, parting her lips like the red sea. Her arousal was like slippery silk. She was absolutely saturated with her excitement. “Yes,” his hissed, bring his other hand up to part her bum, giving him a better view and reveling in her whimpers as he slowly circled her clit. “You have a beautiful cunt, Miss Granger.”
Hermione felt a wave of crimson flush her entire body. All her life she had thought that was one of the most vulgar words anyone could say. But here? Now? In that voice? This man telling her those words - it was the most erotic moment of her life. She made a needy noise in her throat and arched her back again, not even caring how wanton she was coming across. She was wanton. She wanted his fingers in her, she wanted him to fuck her senseless. She wanted…oh, she wanted THAT. “Ahhhh,” she whinged as two long fingers slipped inside of her, his other hand coming around her waist to play her pleasure button like a violin. She was already so close and he had barely touched her.
“Tell me what you want, Miss Granger.”
“Fuck,” she muttered and he laughed.
“That’s not an answer, Miss Granger.” His fingers pressed down and she almost bolted off the table. Shite! What the bloody hell was that?
“Mm,” he grunted as another fresh coat of excitement slipped around his fingers, he slid a third into her with no resistance and continued to work her g-spot all the while playing her clit like an expert maestro.
“Tell me what you want, Miss Granger, or I’ll stop.” His words brooked no argument.
She forced her mind to clear, sensations sweeping her body like the pounding of a waterfall. She did not want him to stop. “I want more, please, sir.” She was begging, and she didn’t care.
“Please what, Miss Granger?”
“Ooooh, Gods. Please make me come, sir,” she ground out. She was so bloody close already; her tummy was clenched tighter than a bow string.
“You’d better ask my permission, Miss Granger. There will be another punishment if you come without permission.”
What?! “Oh, sir. Please, may I come?” He grinned triumphantly as he felt her walls start to flutter, and purposely didn’t answer her. He felt her freeze and her body tightened even more. “Sir, please may I come?” It was urgent, and he didn’t stop his ministrations, nor did he give her permission to orgasm. He would make her beg.
He could feel her rising panic, her desire to please him, he pushed down his amusement and arousal and continued his assault on her rubbing the bumpy expanse of her g-spot. He felt the walls of her vagina clamp on him and realized she was trying to hold off her orgasm. It was impressive – very impressive.
“Sir?” Her voice was heavily strained, almost tearful. “Please, sir. Please, may I come?”
Her begging was so sweet, music to his ears, but he took pity on her. “Come, Miss Granger.”
He had barely said the words when a dam broke over his fingers, her muscles clamping down so hard around them he swore sharply. He felt a trickle of liquid run down his palm, and while it wasn’t the deluge he had seen some women release, it was enough evidence that, with practice, he could turn this young woman into a squirtter.
The sounds, though. Merlin, help him. The sounds that were pulled sadistically out of her body as she reached her peek were intoxicating. Starting low and exploding as she rocked back to meet the thrust of his hand. Her palms slammed flat on the table and her head arched back, her jaw dropping with wordless praises.

He kept his fingers sliding quickly and heatedly over her clit as the three digits inside of her continued to slam through her orgasm. Out of nowhere she frantically shouted. “May I come again, sir?!” His head snapped up in shock at her desperate plea and he was about to say yes, just to satisfy his curiosity if she really could, when her body literally exploded, tremors violently wracking her extremities as she shouted her second release.
Her back bowed and he pulled his fingers out of her, using that hand to jerk her up against his chest, her back to his front, cupping one of her insanely perfect breasts as he continued to manipulate the ball of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Her knees buckled and if he hadn’t been holding her, he was certain she would have crumpled to the ground. As it was, her head lolled back onto his shoulder, her hips jerking erratically.
“You didn’t have permission for that one, Miss Granger,” he grinned wickedly into the hair at her temple. He could definitely use this to his advantage. He pulled a taut nipple with the hand that was holding her against him, continuing to strum her clit. She squirmed, trying to get away from him – overwhelmed with the sensation. He held her fast, one leg curling around hers, holding her thighs apart. Her hips jerked and she gasped another expletive. “But come again, right now, and I’ll forgive you.”
“Yes, sir,” she panted, and came a third time with barely any more prodding. He was floored, his mind reeling at her sensitivity. He growled and spun her, hoisting her to the table. She landed on her tender bum and cried out from the discomfort. He invaded her personal space thoroughly, pushing his straining erection into the cradle of her hips.
The friction of the fabric did fabulous things to her quim, starting her pleasure all over again, and she moaned loudly, frantically clutching his shirt at his shoulders into her fists, pulling him closer to her.
“I’d like to fuck you, now, Miss Granger,” he hissed in her ear, nipping her lobe, then the sensitive flesh at the base of her ear and down her neck as her body continued to tremble against him. She arched into his lips, sighing at the sensation of his mouth on her. He clenched the fleshy swell of her bum in his hands and pulled her to the edge of the table. His erection was beyond painful, straining frantically for release from its confines.
“Oh, Gods yes, Professor,” she agreed on a low hiss, grinding into his erection.
Her noun usage doused him with the cold water of surprise and he jerked away from her almost violently. He was not used to be called Professor anymore. It had been almost ten years since he worked at Hogwarts. Bloody hell, he ran a startled hand through his hair. He had been about to throw his own protocol out the window, completely lost in the moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d given in to just doing and feeling and not thinking first.
She didn’t seem to notice at first, but as her eyes blinked open slowly, dazed and confused at the loss of his warmth and touch, she took in his quickly cooling features and blushed fiercely. She started to bring an arm up to cover herself before stiffening like a child playing freeze tag, knowing it would displease him if she covered herself. His eyes followed her movements, but his cool mask didn’t change. She forced her hand back down to the table, pushing herself into a sitting position instead of sprawled out like some shameless whore. She curled into herself, confused and embarrassed and still frighteningly turned on.
He regretted his abrupt reaction, especially after witnessing the myriad of emotions that were flitting across her face. Desire, lust, and neediness turned to confusion and embarrassment, settling on unsureness, and finally shame. He didn’t like that last emotion in the least – it was one that too many people who were new to this lifestyle carried like the weight of the world was on their shoulders.
Neither spoke for a long moment, both gasping, completely breathless. Then, she finally worked up the nerve to speak. “Did…did I do something wrong, si-ir?” she whispered, her voice breaking. He didn’t miss the tears, didn’t miss the uncertainty and doubt of herself.
He reacted without thinking, moving back to her and pulling her into a tight embrace. “No, Miss Granger. No. You did nothing wrong.” She sat frozen in his arms for a moment before melting into him, her arms coming around him, palms splaying flat on his back.
“I’m sorry, I got carried away.” His voice was gruff, he was angry with himself. Her responses had been…more than he could have imagined. His attraction to her was alarming in its intensity. He had to end it now. Now, before it got way out of hand. Fucking a potential submissive on her first encounter was what he considered bad form. Not all Doms felt this way, but he did. He mentally cursed himself for getting so swept away. It hadn’t helped that she had been almost perfect. He said almost only because she had fallen into his trap of not saying sir at the end of every sentence. He pulled away from her slowly, disentangling himself from her arms. He clasped both of her hands in his before ducking his head to catch her eyes.
“Do you believe me, Miss Granger?”
Her eyes were wet with tears and uncertainty was still strongly present, but she sniffled and nodded once. He turned from her then, crossing the room to snatch up her dress before returning to her. He helped her put it on, not able to stop himself from trailing his fingers up her spine as he pulled up the zipper. He lead her by her hand to the large arm chair he favored, sitting down before pulling her into his lap and tucking her head under his chin. He smoothed a hand down her spine, his mind still spinning. He was not one to make such careless mistakes. She shivered at his touch and he had to bite back his reaction, he felt like his effing glans were going to break. He was still incredibly hard. If she noticed, she had the grace to say nothing.
“That was intense,” he said after a long silence. “I forgot myself for a moment. I never sleep with a submissive during my first session with them, just as I never train submissives. It’s important for me to make you understand that you did nothing wrong – I don’t wish to turn you away because you felt the experience ended badly.”
She stayed silent. Everything about the last few minutes was horribly confusing. She had been at the very top, her body singing with pleasure, completely lost in the moment with him. She had forgotten who she was, who he was. All that had mattered was the way he was making her feel, how she was reacting to his touch, his voice, his words. Then it ended abruptly and alarmingly.
She understood that he was telling her he let himself get too out of control – but it had been everything she had wanted, more than she could have dreamed. She had always believed she could experience this unbridled passion, and was overjoyed to find it. Having it end the way it did was just shy of devastating. Part of her wanted to flee in absolute horror, part of her wanted to tell him it was okay and be demure and respectful, and part of her wanted to take control and demand he finish what he started – because even though she felt sated, her body felt empty. She had been on absolute fire for him and it had been doused unceremoniously.
She knew which of those three scenarios to ditch immediately – a Dominant would not take well to being dominated. She could demand nothing from him without getting a reaction she knew she did not want. She didn’t want to flee, to show weakness. So, she went with the only option she had left – submission.
“I understand, sir,” she said quietly. His tender ministrations were starting to make her bit uncomfortable, she had come back to herself enough to realize she was being held by her old Potions professor. That he had just seen her naked, spanked her with his hand and belt, and had his fingers inside her. And gave you as many orgasms in thirty minutes then you’ve had in eight years. Not to mention she was sitting on a very noticeable arousal, which was not helping hers abate at all.
Her words, this time, were not a surprise to him. It was obvious at this point that he had been very wrong – Hermione Granger was a natural submissive. This did not mean she didn’t need to be trained and educated in the lifestyle, but it did makes sense that he had gotten caught up and lost himself with how well controlled she was. Or that’s what he was going to tell himself, anyway.
He was almost disappointed when she pulled away from him, but stood when she did. His brain felt fuzzy as he watched her gather her purse and her wand and cast a cleansing charm on herself and another charm that detangled her hair, leaving it looking much smoother than the mass of frizzy curls he had helped work up. He preferred it a mess, that realization bothered him. Pull yourself together, you idiot.
When she spoke to him, he almost didn’t catch the meaning of her words. He knew his face was impassive, guarded, but inside his world had tilted on its axis. He answered her questions about what she should do next by directing her to speak with Jonathan on her way out. He would get her set up to move forward. He didn’t ask to see her again, she didn’t ask him a second time if he would consent to train her. Then again, he had all but told her he wouldn’t.

She almost shattered him when she came back to him before leaving. She wrapped her arms around his waist and stood on her toes to press a sweet kiss to his cheek before laying her head on his chest, pressing her ear to his heart for a moment. It was unarming, and he was so surprised that he almost didn’t react at all.
“Thank you, sir.” Her voice was sincere and husky. “For a very memorable evening.” He couldn’t stop himself from tangling a hand in her hair and holding her in place for a moment, then. Memorable was an understatement. She pulled away reluctantly and he walked her to his door and saw her out. When it shut behind her, he felt strangely bereft.
- 2
- 3
- 4
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

Book One - Master Mine: A Lesson in Submission