Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Quartet	By : OracleObscured Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 128263 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

Chapter List
- 47
- 48
- 49
A/N: I apologize for the long wait, everybody. As you may have noticed, these two upcoming chapters took me way longer than originally predicted (waaaaaaaay longer). I thought they were pretty much good to go, but I wound up rewriting about 95% of both of them. (And then I rewrote them and cut them and rewrote them and cut them over and over until my eyeballs blurred.) I’m still not sure if I’m happy with them, but I think I’m to the point where I’m just driving myself nuts. I’m still working on chapter 49, but I REALLY want to put it up tomorrow, so I’m going to do everything I can to make that happen. (But it might have to wait till Tuesday. Maaaaaybe Wednesday.)

Also, please keep in mind what I said at the start of this story about not complaining about the heat in my kink kitchen. I know these two chapters won’t be to everyone’s liking, but they’re what I wanted to write and they’re integral to the story. (So suck it up and turn on the AC.)

Okay, back to where we left off. Not to confuse you, but no time has passed in the story since the last chapter. (And, head up, the next chapter is a continuation of this one.)
DS: “Hahah, as soon as I read about all of the items adorning her bedroom walls I wondered how she would go inviting her friends around. I guess she doesn’t do much of that type of entertaining does she? ;)”
—Definitely not :P (Although, it isn’t really her bedroom; it’s just an extra bedroom, so I guess she could get away with inviting people over.)
Your chapter 42 commentary cracked me up :)
“this represents a definite relaxing of his trust issues.”—Oh good, I’m glad that’s coming through :)
And thank again for all the corrections! (I’ve fixed most of these chapters on AO3, but I haven’t copied over the fixes yet because I know I’m going to have to edit everything again before I’m done. Sigh.)
Ah, you got in 44’s review before I posted. You’re catching up :)
48—Cambiare
“Hey, little girl, is your daddy home? Did he go and leave you all alone? I got a bad desire.”—Bruce Springsteen 
(Severus) 
Severus smiled to himself as a stark naked Hermione backed out of Draco’s room on her tiptoes and silently closed the door. 
Unaware of her audience, Hermione blithely spun around and, walking into a looming black shadow, jumped about three inches off the floor. Her hand clutched at her heart, and when she realized it was him, she burst into an adrenaline-spiked giggle.
“Shh,” she whispered, pressing a finger to her lips. “Draco’s sleeping.”
“I’ll bet he is,” Severus returned quietly. Offering her his arm, he gestured toward the playroom with a tilt of his head. “Are you free?”
“Hardly,” she retorted as she took his elbow, “but I’ll lower the price seeing as how you’re such a loyal customer.”
Smirking, he shook his head as he escorted her down the hall. “You’ve been spending too much time with Lucius, Princess Percentage Rate.”
“Naaah. I haven’t started creaming my knickers at the sight of a compounded interest table, so I don’t think he’s turned me yet.”
Snape swallowed a guffaw. Perhaps one day, when Lucius claimed to be balancing the books, Severus would send her to his office, and she'd find out for herself just how accurate that little joke had been. Severus might have to go with her, because walking in on Lucius wanking to a handful of financial porn was hilarious no matter how many times a person saw it.
They arrived at the playroom, and as he crossed the threshold, it was like stepping into a bakery oven, the aroma of hot, fresh fucking so all-consuming his knees almost buckled with hunger.
Alas, there were important matters to address before the banquet could begin.
Severus wrapped one arm around her waist and, in a physical display that would leave no doubt as to the tone of the evening, whipped her around and pinned her against the wall. Planting a thigh between her legs, he held her in place as he tipped the door closed with a flick of his fingers. Its muffled snick severed their connection to the outside world and sealed them in a reality of their own creation.
A place where they could be be themselves.
Her gaze darted from the door to his face, and when their eyes met, he saw that her pupils had blown wide, and the remaining slivers of iris flickered with gilt fire. Unadulterated lust radiated off her like heat off the midday sun, and he lost himself in the heady swirl of her sexual magnetism. 
Sensing her power, she grabbed the front of his black shirt and dragged him closer, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Professor Snape,” she said, her voice set to its sultriest register, “why have you brought me to this den of iniquity? Is it time for detention again already?”
What a devious mind you have, my dear. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Her eyebrows shot halfway up her forehead. “Talk? Mmmmmm!” she tittered. “I do love a good vocal warm-up.” Her index finger trailed down the front of his shirt before skipping over his belt to explore his distended zip. “Go right ahead. I’m all ears.”
“Very well then, I should start by telling you that I know what you just did with Draco.”
All traces of playfulness vanished in an instant.
Severus held up his hand to stave off the coming admonition. “What you do with Draco when you’re alone is none of my business; I’m merely curious how you convinced him to reveal such a closely-guarded secret.”
“Were you listening at the door?” she demanded.
“Only long enough to decide if it was safe to knock.” The rest of the time he’d been using a charm to amplify their conversation. But she didn't need to know that. “I’m impressed Draco volunteered such sensitive information. I can’t imagine how the subject was broached. Was it your suggestion or his?”
She gave him a peculiar look, her eyes roving over the area surrounding his head. “I . . . asked him . . . and he told me.”
“As simple as that? You asked and he answered?”
“Well . . . not quite. I told him what I suspected and asked if I was correct.”
“Ah. So you averted the biggest hurdle by taking on all the liability. Clever. It was brave of him to own up to the truth, don’t you think?”
Hermione stared at him blankly for a few seconds, and then a little smile crept over her lips, as if she were pleased he’d say something so kind about Draco. “Yes, I thought so.”
“And are you equally brave?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her over to the bear-flanked white table, “there’s one corner of this room you never go near . . . or even look at, for that matter. You’ve never asked whose idea it was or questioned its purpose; and I suspect that’s because you already know. But if you don’t, it’s time you found out. Turn around.”
Hesitantly, Hermione faced him, but Severus was done with both her diffidence and his own; in a split second he’d grabbed her by the waist and set her on the padded top. The sudden relocation loosed a squeak of surprise from her lips, but when she found herself simply sitting there, unmolested and free, she relaxed and looked to him for some kind of explanation.
Severus closed in, invading her personal space, but in a paradoxical gesture of reassurance, tucked a stray tendril behind her ear. “You’ve been slowly preparing Draco for what you did today. The power games. The punishments. The anal play. Do you think that helped him admit his secret?”
“Yes,” she said cautiously, “I imagine it did.”
“Why do you think he finally came clean? Why now?”
“I don’t know. Because I asked?”
Severus shook his head. “I’ve caught you off guard; you’re not thinking clearly. Try again. Why did Draco admit what he wanted today?”
He waited patiently while she considered her answer, lightly brushing his thumb over her lower lip so she’d stop gnawing it to a pulp.
After a few seconds, she ventured another guess, “Because he trusted me?”
Pleased, Severus nodded. “I think it's most likely that, after declaring his love for you, he felt he could tell you anything.” Her eyes widened, and Snape couldn't help smirking at her exaggerated shock. “Yes, I know. Lucius, however, does not. He’ll be quite the jealous lover when he discovers Draco has bested him once again.”
A worried line knitted her brow, and she mashed her lips together as if the thought of Lucius’s plight made her physically ill. 
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he murmured, wiping away the tension with his fingertips. “I was only hoping to use your own powers of persuasion against you.” Severus smoothed his thumb along the arch of her brunette eyebrow and followed the curve of her face down to her cheek. She was so soft, so receptive. Was she prepared to receive everything he had to give? The part of him that still harbored a shred of hope prayed she was. “Perhaps if I gain your trust, you’d be willing to indulge in your more taboo fantasies with me.”
“I already trust you.”
His stomach leapt over his heart and tried to elbow its way up his trachea, leaving his middle far too light and flighty. Discreetly gulping his organs back into place, he bowed his head for a moment, hiding how unnerved he was by such a simple statement. “I . . . I’m glad to hear that.” Don’t be a coward, Severus. He forced himself to meet her eyes. “But openness breeds openness, and I want all of you; so, in the spirit of confession, I’m going to tell you something. Something personal.”
Hermione sat up straighter. “What is it, Severus? You can tell me anything.”
“You know how much I hate talking about myself, so I hope you appreciate this.”
“I always appreciate it when you’re honest with me.”
“I know you do. That’s why I chose this route.” Snape took a deep breath and, after mentally removing the final rivet from the armor that had protected him for the past forty-seven years of his life, did something he never thought he’d do. 
He told the truth—no occluding. “I trust you too. And . . .”
She nodded for him to go on.
Severus swallowed as quietly as possible, his throat bone dry. “I . . . care about you . . . more than I’ve cared about anything in a long time. And I want to . . . take care of you.”
“You do?” she whispered.
He nodded, hearing his stilted declaration echo in his head like an accusation. Why hadn’t he thought to rehearse beforehand? Maybe then he wouldn’t have used the word “care” a hundred times like a monosyllabic moron.
Reaching up, Hermione caressed his cheek with a gentleness that bordered on ethereal. “That means a lot to me, Severus. And having someone take care of me sounds quite nice—a bit of a relief actually.”
Expelling all the air in his lungs, Snape sighed out about eight pounds of pent up anxiety, and without the added weight, his already thin frame threatened to float up to the ceiling like a feather on the wind. “Well . . . that was horrifying,” he muttered under his breath, garnering an appreciative laugh from the only woman in the world who understood his bleak sense of humor. Tracing the curve of her smile, he memorized her happiness for future lapses into nostalgia. “Now, would you like to be honest with me?”
Looping her arms about his waist, she rested her face against his chest. “I care about you too. Very, very, very, very much.”
Severus smiled, reading between the lines and internally thanking her for not foisting the L-word on him before he was ready, but for the first time ever, he felt safe in returning her hug. And he did so. “While I like hearing that, I was thinking more along the lines of a sexual confession, one I know you’ve been considering for some time. I can give you what you need, little girl. I want to give it to you. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
Hermione shook her head no, her hair tickling his arms where his shirt sleeves were rolled up.
Apparently he was going to have to back her into a corner—just as she had cornered Draco. There would be no more hiding. For either of them. Swallowing hard, he said what they both needed to hear, “You can call me Daddy if you like. In fact, I insist on it.”
“What did you say?” she croaked, her body stiffening in his arms.
“You heard me. And you needn't act so scandalized. I know you’ve thought about saying it, and I want you to stop censoring yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that desire.”
Her arms locked around him, preventing any visual confrontation. “I can’t do it,” she whispered. “It’s too creepy.”
Severus worked a hand beneath her chin and gently urged her to look at him. “What’s creepy about it?”
“It’s so . . . incest-y.”
He rolled his eyes. “It is not. It’s just a word. A word to which you’ve attached an unfair amount of judgement. You don’t actually call your father Daddy, do you?”
“No.”
“What do you call him?”
“Dad.”
“And do you want to fuck him?”
“NO!”
“I didn’t think so. And since I assume I look nothing like the man, there’s absolutely nothing about this that is in any way ‘incest-y.’”
Her teeth sank into the side of her lower lip as she mulled over his argument. He could tell she wanted to believe him—she just needed a little nudge.
“This is about me taking care of you,” he said softly. “It’s an extension of what we’ve already been doing; we’re just intensifying things. I don’t need to explain it to you. I’ve seen the fantasies in your head; I know what you want. And I’m going to say this one more time—I want to do it.”
Unable to maintain eye-contact, her gaze dropped to his shoulder. “You don’t think I’m sick?”
Wincing, Severus drew her in and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “No, I don’t. Not even a little. I think you need someone to take care of you the way only a daddy can . . . so you can let go. And I need to let go too. I get angry when my work in the lab doesn’t go well, and I need you to . . . be yourself—your sweet self who makes my failures fade into the background. You . . .” he trailed off, his heart hammering as his body revolted against the abrupt outpouring of his most private meditations.
Everything about the conversation set off warning bells in his head, but unfamiliarity wasn’t reason enough to stay silent. He was so close to getting what he wanted—what they both wanted—he couldn’t afford to hold back.
“You come home and step in the lab, and suddenly . . . the dungeon doesn’t seem so dark. You put your arms around me as if you’ve been dying to do it all day. I need that. I know I don’t constantly at paw you and demand your time the way Lucius and Draco do, but . . . that doesn't mean I don't want to. I want to have one good thing in my life. One thing I don’t destroy. Or fail. Or alienate. I can be what you need—I can keep you safe. I promise I’ll never push you away. Please. I need this, Hermione. I need you.”
Her body convulsed in his arms, and he realized she was sobbing into his shirt, her gasps choked to the point of soundlessness. Severus pulled her even closer, sheltering her in his embrace. He hadn’t meant to lay so much on her, but he had to make sure she understood that this was just as much his salvation as it was hers.
“It’s all right,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
Rubbing her naked back with a calmness that belied his own tumult, Severus eased her through whatever mental upheaval he’d unleashed. The burden he’d placed on her had many sharp edges, and it was difficult to say which one had cut her the deepest. Simply knowing he was privy to her most taboo fantasies would have been enough to send the average witch running from the room in hysterics; but to top off that humiliation with a heartfelt avowal—from the man least likely to show any emotion at all—that was probably sufficient to warrant a full nervous breakdown.
In which case, he was impressed she was taking it so well.
The crying jag eventually passed, and when she relaxed, he brushed his hand along her cheek and charmed away the excess mucus and tears so she could breathe. 
Sighing in relief, Hermione propped her forehead against his chest, still resolutely avoiding his eye. “Did you come up with all these bears and stuff?” she asked his left pectoral.
He smiled and stroked her hair. “Yes.”
“Was this whole room your idea?”
"Yes."
“Was this corner the real reason for the room?”
Severus bit his tongue to keep from laughing in delight. She was a clever witch. “Yes. But don’t tell Lucius.”
"Do you really want to . . . be my . . . you know?”
“More than I can say.”
“All the time?”
“All the time.”
“So . . . when we’re around the house . . . you’ll treat me like your little girl?”
The longing evident in that one question tore at his heart like a rabid manticore. He hadn’t realized her need for escape had become so fierce. “Yes. We’ve already been doing that in many ways, but from now on I’ll do it every day. I’ll give you a bath unless you say otherwise. I’ll brush your hair whenever you like. I’ll hug you and kiss you in the morning without being asked. And if you want a spanking, for any reason, I’ll put you over my knee and make sure you get what you need. That goes for this sweet little pussy too. Anything you need. I take care of my little girl in every way.”
“Will you read to me at night?”
“Of course,” he replied, his voice quavering with amusement. “Good little girls get all the bedtime stories they can handle.”
“Will you keep doing dirty things to me, or are you just going to be nice now?”
Severus sputtered out a surprised laugh. “I didn’t have a personality transplant; I just want to take care of you. But if you’re worried this isn’t going to meet your kink requirements, I think I should put your mind at ease.” Pushing aside an enormous beige bear, Snape opened the top drawer on the short end of the changing table. “If you’re going to be my little girl, I want to see you looking like it.”
She eyed the pastel purple tee shirt and white socks he laid out, her curiosity piqued. “I . . . I want to be pretty for you . . . Daddy.”
Severus’s cock lunged toward her, enraptured by the intimacy of that one word. “I know you do, baby.”
She looked up at him, her eyes glowing gold for several breathless seconds. If he’d known she was going to react so viscerally, he would’ve been spewing out “babies” left and right. While the endearment didn’t come to him naturally, there was no question what she wanted to hear, and ever since he’d seen the fantasy in her head that day at her flat, the urge to say it had been almost overwhelming. 
“Or would you prefer baby girl?” he asked with a devilish quirk of his brow.
“I like them both.”
I knew you would. “All right then, baby girl, why don’t you put your arms up for me. I need to get you dressed.”
Hermione’s arms shot into the air, and as Severus shook out the shirt with a flourish, he flashed her a smirk of approval. She looked apprehensive, but her eyes kept shifting colors, pulsing with aureate excitement every few seconds. As if in sync with her inner beat, his cock thumped against his thigh like a drum major’s baton. Following its direction, Severus pulled the undersized shirt over her head, and as he wiggled it down, the colorful bears cavorting on the front stretched over her tits until they were distorted like a funhouse mirror.
Hermione glanced at her chest and blushed. “Where’d you get this?” she asked, running her hand over the bears with a small smile.
“Owl order. Now sit still while I fix your hair. I don’t want it getting in your face later.”
Severus carefully parted her curls with his fingertips then gathered one side and secured it with a hair tie. Bunches were the only appropriate style for such a special ensemble.
When he was finished, two bright yellow plastic orbs adorned each pigtail, and he was staring into the eyes of his own real-life Lolita. “On your back,” he rasped. “I need to get your socks.”
Hermione’s smile wobbled higher, as if she thought he was being silly, but she rolled back and brought her knees to her chest with a giddy waggle of her toes.
Severus bunched up one little white sock and slipped it over her foot. Two pink fuzzy balls adorned the back of the anklet, and while he was attending to her other foot, she twisted her leg to inspect the decorative pompoms. When he released her, she tapped her feet together and pedaled them back and forth as if she’d suddenly become a sock model. Or maybe she was testing to see if they could withstand the rigors of a firm fucking. Whatever her intentions, all that dancing about opened the labial floodgates, and her slotted spillway lit up like a Parisian fountain in the glowing lamplight. 
For a solid minute he could see nothing else. 
Hypnotized by her shimmering sex, Severus reached between her legs and stroked her muff, tracing the satin shine. “Are you wet, baby girl? Should I check to see?”
Hermione nodded vigorously and, with absolutely no shame, fanned her legs into a wide vee—the quintessential good girl with a naughty streak a mile wide.
“What do we have here?” he purred, spreading her open with two fingers. “I think someone loves being Daddy’s little girl.”
Her panting became ragged, the bears on her chest pumping up and down as they rode her heaving breasts.
“What am I going to do with such a slippery little kitty? I can't let all this juice go to waste. Hold back your legs for me, love. I just need to get some things.”
She hooked her hands behind her knees and, with rapt attention, followed his journey across the room. He never saw her blink once.
In the chest of drawers, Severus retrieved a short, baby pink dildo and the black plug they often used. The lube was still sitting on the bed, and when he leaned over to grab it, he caught a whiff of Draco clinging to the sheets. He could swear that boy smelled different when he’d been under Nanny Granger’s care, like a sweet shop that specialized in candy cum and pheromone-laced chocolates. And Snape could smell Hermione layered over top, a meaty-sugary concoction that reminded him of honey glazed ham—heavy on the honey. Salivating and dizzy with arousal, it took him a few seconds to remember where he was and what he was supposed to be doing.
Oh gods, he’d left her waiting on the changing table! How long had he been standing there sniffing the sheets?
As soon as he turned to check on her, the scent of eager pussy slammed into him like a double-decker bus. Fucking hell! He’d always regarded his sense of smell as an asset, a potion-maker’s greatest resource, but now he wondered if it was really a one-way ticket to the Janus Thickey Ward. How was he supposed to maintain any semblance of sanity with that mouthwatering aroma constantly nipping at his willpower?
Severus somehow got back across the room without popping all the seams on his placket, which seemed a miracle in itself, and then carefully set everything on the dresser next to her, breathing through his mouth in an attempt to foil his duplicitous nose. Which didn’t work. At all. He just wound up huffing her into his lungs and giving himself a pussy high. Frustrated by his persistent disorientation, he grunted, and she looked up, her eyes limpid brown like pure chocolate syrup. While he’d grown fond of that hue and would gladly gaze upon it for all eternity, he longed for another reassuring glint of gold.
Snape patted her bum, making sure his fingertips “accidentally” got her pussy lips and joggled her clit. Her eyes flickered accordingly, and he was elated to see her desire for him reflected in those twin flames.
“Look what I found for you to play with,” he crooned, bringing the plug to her lips.
She stared at him in disbelief. 
“Open up, baby. I know how much you like to suck.”
Unsure and almost shy, her mouth parted, and Snape slid the tapered tip inside, supplying her with the perfect soother for a first-time little. Not to mention she looked absolutely adorable with her mouth stuffed full.
Maybe later he’d pacify her with his cock.
Severus picked up the powder pink dildo and touched it to the gleaming knot of her clitoris, gently running the head up and down her silken folds until it was coated in her lust. “Does this sweet little pussy need to be filled?”
Her nod bordered on delirious.
Dipping into her vaginal opening, he teased her with the very tip, not quite pushing in, just whetting her appetite.
Taking his time, Severus worked the phallus inside, stirring it around, stimulating her cervix until her pussy wept for mercy. When her body began to flex with warning spasms, he pushed the dildo in as deep as it would go and gave the base a final firm pat. Hermione’s eyes rolled back so far all he could see was white fluttering beneath her lids.
Snape held up the lube where she could see it—assuming she could focus—and greased his fingers in clear gel. Reaching down with his other hand, he spread her cheeks and then painted her rosebud in glossy shine. She was so keyed up edging her proved effortless. A few leisurely circles had her bucking and babbling as if she’d lost her mind.
“Okay, baby, let me have the plug.”
Her jaw dropped, and he pulled the toy from her mouth, leaving a crystalline thread of saliva trailing across her lower lip.
Resting the plug’s pointed tip at the rim of her anus, he gave her an encouraging nod. “Bear down for me.”
As soon as she did, the plug slid in halfway. Severus drew it back out and started again. He could have forged ahead—she was ready—but now was not the time to rush. Her raging arousal needed to be put on display; she needed to know that he knew just how wet this new game had gotten her.
“Relax for me, baby. Let Daddy get you ready to play.”
Her body opened to him, inviting him in with splayed thighs and a stream of ambrosia so strong it trickled from her pussy and ran down her crevice.
Spreading her wide with one hand, he watched as her arousal forked around the dam in her arse and then joined forces with the lube. When he met her eye, she blushed and laughed her I’m-embarrassed-but-don’t-you-dare-stop laugh. He had no intention of stopping. A river that majestic deserved some serious sight-seeing.
But he could give her a glimpse of the glory before him. Dropping his chin, Severus blew a cool breeze across her clit.
“Daaa-addy!” she groaned, giving him a desperate pout that would have melted a softer man.
Severus was too warped for melting, but he took pity on her and allowed the plug to find its home. Her tiny tushy snapped tight around the narrow indentation, and with a contented sigh, she smiled up at him.
Pressing his palm between her legs, he jiggled both protruding bases, giving her a double helping of toy time. “How’s that feel? Nice and full?”
In the midst of her demented moaning, she bobbed her head in a resolute yes.
The pad of his thumb grazed the pink bulb of her clitoris, and he lightly fingered her trigger. “You’re so wet, baby. Do you know what wet little girls need?”
He wasn’t sure if she could hear him over her spirited vocalizations, but he continued as if she had. Opening the drawer again, he pulled out the coupe de grace and waited for her to realize what was about to happen.
When she saw the nappy, she froze, and the keening died on her lips, plunging the room into a tense silence.
“I can’t wear that,” she whispered.
“Yes you can. I made sure it was your size.”
“No,” she said, pausing to sink her teeth into her lip and then scrape it raw. “I mean, I don’t want to wear that.”
Snape arched an eyebrow and set the nappy on the table. Grabbing her ankles in one hand, he pushed her legs toward her face and, with no warning, smacked her arse. 
She shouted in surprise, her hips wildly shimmying back and forth as she struggled to avoid the blows, but ever the rule-lover, she dutifully refrained from blocking him with her hands.
After half a minute of bum-blistering swats, Severus stopped just as suddenly as he’d started and shifted her legs to the side, making sure she was looking him in the eye before he scolded her. “Liars get a spanking. You know better than that.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m just scared.”
“I know you are, baby; that’s understandable. But I’m right here to take care of you, so if you get scared again, just tell me.”
Mashing her lips together, she nodded contritely.
“Good girl. Now keep those legs up so I can get this on.”
There was no resistance that time. Although she was clearly apprehensive, she pulled back her legs and gave him a look of pure surrender.
And his heart spontaneously combusted.
Or at least that’s what he thought had happened, but then he noticed he was still breathing. And vertical. 
Well, wasn’t that an interesting reaction. Apparently he could now be felled by nothing more than a look.
What a frightening prospect.
Yet he’d give anything to be struck down by her faith once more.
And he knew exactly how to lure that look back out into the open. Snape unfolded the nappy and, after flattening it out, eased the back under her reddened bum. “All right, put down your feet.”
She did as he asked, but she squeezed her eyes shut as if she could hide from what was happening. Severus let her suspend reality for the moment. She always dealt with each new layer of submission in her own time—and he'd given her a lot to process.
With great care, he pulled the padded crotch up between her legs and smoothed the center panel over her pelvis. Peeling back the sticky tape on one side, he stuck it in place with a firm swipe of his fingers and then gave the front a slight tug to make sure it was secure. That seemed to be too much for her, because she slapped her hand over her face and whimpered low in her throat. He waited to see if she would say her safe word, but when she gave no indication he should stop, he pulled the other side snug and fastened it as well—before she she could change her mind.
“There you go, baby girl. You’re all ready to play,” he said, patting her pussy through the crinkly plastic. 
Hermione bridged up off the table and made a strangled noise behind her sealed lips—the pained inner scream of one who’d been perched on the razor’s edge of climax for too long. He'd never seen her so lost in the moment. It was breathtaking.
“Come on, love,” he crooned as he took her by the hand and helped her up. “Tell me how you feel.”
The rustling of the nappy caused her face to turn a new shade of crimson, but her mortification was soon forgotten in light of the shifting toy situation. “I . . . I’m nervous,” she confessed, “and wet.”
“The nervousness is to be expected; you’re nervous every time we try something new. But you always get through it, don’t you? As for your wetness, I’m well aware. That's why you’re wearing the nappy.”
“It feels weird.”
“I’m sure it does. But since I don’t hear you saying your safe word, I think you might enjoy that feeling—just a little. And Daddy loves seeing you like this. You look very sweet.”
“My heart is beating too hard.”
“Oh, baby,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. It wasn’t supposed to be traumatic—just intense. The more extreme the submission, the greater the psychological and physical release. That was part of the scenario’s appeal, even if she didn’t realize it yet. “It’s okay. Here, put your arms around my neck so I can pick you up.”
She did, and when Severus lifted her from the table, her legs automatically locked around his waist, effectively sealing her body to his with the strength of a sticking charm. Rubbing her back with one hand, he took care of her the way a daddy should, just the way he'd done in his head a million times. His hands didn’t waver or hesitate. It felt natural. He was relieved his urges weren’t just the delusional daydreams of a lonely man yearning for something beyond his capabilities. Apparently he had some dormant nurturing genes after all.
“That’s it, love. Put your head on my shoulder and try to relax. I don’t want you to be scared when we do this. I want you to feel safe. Just slow your breathing, and when you feel better, tell me.”
“I think you’re eventually going to get tired of carrying me around, Daddy.”
Severus smiled. She was doing all the lifting, clinging to him like a frightened monkey. “No, baby, I think I’ll be fine. If I get tired, I can always sit down.”
“Daddy?”
“Mmm?”
“Have you ever done this with anyone else before?”
“No.”
“You’re really good at it.”
“You make it easy,” he insisted, kissing her temple. “You’re a good little girl.”
“What else do you have in the changing table?”
“Hmm . . . that’s for Daddy know and you to find out.”
“Are you going to call me baby girl all the time now?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes. Do you think Lucius and Draco will be freaked out?”
“I seriously doubt it. Draco will probably be turned on by it. Or possibly jealous. Lucius just wants you to be happy. And although it might not be his particular cup of tea, he knows on some level that you need this. He doesn’t just call you princess because he worships you—he wants you to feel cared for too.”
“He wants to be my prince instead of my daddy.”
Contemplating her assessment, Severus nodded. “You like having him be your prince, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good, because I don’t know how to be anybody’s prince. I leave the charm to Lucius.”
“I like you the way you are, Daddy.”
Severus squeezed her tighter. Bloody fucking hell, he needed this even more than he'd imagined. “Thank you, love. Are you feeling better now?”
“I think so. Will you kiss me to make sure?”
“Of course I will.”
She lifted her head and met his eyes, her face so close he could feel the heat from her flushed skin. Severus nuzzled her cheek with his nose, making her giggle, and then pressed his mouth to hers—slow and easy, savoring the flavor of her trust.
It didn’t take her long to get over the initial anxiety. In less than a minute, she was giving his lower lip little kitten kisses that had his dick straining against his zip.
“Are you ready for a game now?” he asked between pecks. “Your poor little pussy must be getting restless.”
She nodded. “It aches, Daddy. Can you make it better?”
“I can. But your heart might start beating hard again. Are you ready for that?”
Her eyes flared. "I think so.”
Severus carried her over to the white, lacquered sawhorse and drummed his fingers against the thick leather top in a galloping clop-clop-clop. A two-dimensional wooden horse head sprang forth with a sparkly burst of magic and emitted a lifelike whinny. “One rocking horse for my favorite little girl.”
He carefully set her astride the center beam and watched her face. Her feet couldn’t touch the floor, so the pressure on her pussy would be immense. With the added internal stimulation of the dildo and plug, this game might get overwhelming extremely fast. 
But with the state she was in, they shouldn’t be there long.
She wiggled around, searching for a comfortable position, but her dance only shifted the discomfort from one area to the next. “I don’t think it rocks, Daddy. The feet are flat. And this saddle isn’t at all comfortable.”
“Put your hands on the mane and lean forward,” he said, stroking her head. “You’ll have to do the rocking yourself.”
Slowly, she did as suggested, and her jaw clenched as the crossbeam smothered her clit.
“That’s it, baby.” He swatted her bum. “Go for a ride.”
She heaved out a shuddery breath and, with all the speed of a tranquilized tortoise, began to sway back and forth. “It kind of hurts.”
“I know. But if you stay on that little clit, it’ll start to feel very nice.”
Tipping forward, she grimaced, hissing through her teeth. “Oh God!”
Her hips rolled with almost imperceptible movement, and Severus smiled to himself as her eyelids drooped to half-mast. She was almost there.
"Mmmmm!" Scrabbling for a handhold, her fingers clawed at the carved mane.
“Good girl,” he whispered. “Come for Daddy.”
“Uh!” Her eyes popped open, and he knew by her startled expression that she’d found the sweet spot.
As the climax crested, her quiet whimperings of alarm grew to a ribald groan of completion. Arching her spine, her head pitched back so she was staring at the ceiling, and her eyes glazed over, blinded by pleasure.
“Aaaaaaaaahhhh!” It was a possession of pure beauty, her limbs twitching and jerking as if in the grips of an orgasmic grand mal seizure.
No matter how many times he saw her climax, it never ceased to captivate him. Each orgasm was an unspoken conversation, one that was felt instead of heard. It said things no words could convey, and he came away from each encounter feeling more connected to her than ever before.
That could be somewhat disconcerting, but he longed for the next high with the fervor of an addict. 
The spasms gradually diminished, but Severus waited for the last of the tics to fade; he could always tell she was still riding the lingering high by the animation of her toes.
When she leaned away from her clit, Severus came to the rescue. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you off there.”
He picked her up, but this time slid one arm behind her knees. The thump of her heart could be felt throughout her entire body, and her shirt was starting to stick to her in sweaty patches. She looked like a sleepy little cherub, her cheeks rosy with satisfaction.
Sitting down in the rocking chair, Severus held her close, keeping her curled in his lap. He needed to rearrange his cock, but he didn’t want to lose the cozy magic of the moment. Hermione snuggled into him and, with a deep sigh, pressed her face to the crook of his neck.
“How was that?” he murmured. “Did you enjoy your horsey ride?”
“Yes, Daddy. But now my pussy’s all slippery and sore.”
Severus laughed under his breath and kissed the top of her head so her frizzy curls tickled his face. “The sore will go away in a minute. Your sticky pussy, however, will get a nice bath later. And that’s another reason baby girls need a nappy—they like to make a mess.”
“Hey! You make a mess too.”
“No, I deposit my seed neatly inside you unless you request otherwise. I’m quite tidy.”
Hermione snickered into his skin and traced his clavicle with the tip of one finger. “I was thinking . . . maybe you could come all over my pussy and then put on my nappy so I could keep it there for a while.”
“That . . . sounds lovely.” You devious little nymph. ”Later perhaps. There’re some other things I have in store for you tonight.”
“I don’t know if my pussy can take any more pony rides.”
Snorting softly, he shook his head. “No more pony rides. I was thinking, we should clean out this little bottom and see how much my baby girl likes a good buggering.”
She looked up, and her eyes flickered with twenty-four karat heat. “She likes it a lot. Can we do it now, Daddy?”
“Are you going to be a good girl while I give you the enema?”
Her lips brushed his ear, sending a shivery ripple of energy down his spine. “I’ll always be your good girl.”
Severus smiled, confident she meant that on every level imaginable. “Then I'd better go find the equipment and get you all cleaned up for my cock.”
She growled in agreement.
And he could swear, in some alternate universe, where the overgrown jungle of his sexual mindscape had populated the wild with his animal lust, his cock growled back.
Cambiare—Musical instruction indicating change; i.e., any change, such as a new instrument.
“I’m On Fire” by Bruce Springsteen. Written by Bruce Springsteen and released in 1985 on the album Born in the U.S.A.
It was the fourth of a record-tying seven Top 10 hit singles to be released from Born in the U.S.A. (And if you’re like me and are wondering what other albums had seven Top 10 hit singles, the answer is Michael Jackson’s Thriller and Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814.)
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xzQvGz6_fvA
Although the term Lolita is commonly used nowadays, I like to pay tribute to the original mastermind. Lolita was written by Vladimir Nabokov in 1955. (And I make no money by mentioning it in my story.)
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