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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
- 48
- 49
- 50
A/N: I really want to thank everyone who took the time to show their support for the last chapter (whether it was your thing or not). I didn’t realize how hard it would be to post something so divisive. And personal. While I’m not into the whole ABDL scene in real life, it is something I’ve thought about, and as someone who is fond of the DD/lg dynamic, it appeals to my need for a caring dom. If you’ve never written about your own sexual quirks, I can’t really describe the vulnerability involved in inserting them into a story and then plastering that story all over the internet. The anxiety is two-fold, because I’m not only laying out my private life for all to see, I’m hinging an important plot point on it. So any rejection is doubly painful. But that risk is a part of this journey. I needed something that would push my readers and my characters (and apparently me) into uncharted territory. Because that’s where the change happens. That’s where characters grow and discover things about themselves and the world around them. And that insight is a large part of what’s going on here.
So, if you’ve stuck with me up until now, I thank you. If you’ve left me your thoughts as you’ve read, I thank you more.
The next release will be six chapters long. But don’t let that scare you. They’re shorter in length, and I’m guessing, all together, they’re about as long as these two chapters combined. I hope it doesn’t take me another month to get them done (but I don’t make any promises). I think my neurotic revision of these two was due to the subject matter more than the word count; I just wanted everything to be presented in the best light.
I hope you all enjoy.
LissaDream: I like to keep you on your toes. Glad you made it through <3
Snmarve: Thank you so much <3 Plenty more to come :)
49—Lullaby
“Who’s your daddy?”—The Zombies
(Hermione) 
Snape traced the rim of her arsehole with one finger, following the perimeter of the nozzle so slowly she swore she could feel the grooves of his fingerprints.
“Are you ready, baby?”
Hermione buried her face in the teddy bear he’d given her for emotional support. As far as comfort value, the bear couldn’t hold a candle to Draco, but his fuzzy body was soothing, and she needed all the help she could get in her current predicament; it wasn’t every day she found herself kneeling on the furniture with her arse waggling about in the air.
Well . . . okay, maybe it was becoming her default position when Snape was in charge, but doing it on a changing table was an entirely different experience, and having her bowels filled with water was in no way a common occurrence.
“I said, are you ready, baby? You’re still with me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she answered, but her voice wobbled as if she were part turkey. Clearing her throat, she tried again, “I’m ready.”
“Have you got Mr. Bear?”
"That’s not his name,” she muttered, hiding her face in the bear’s plush belly.
“No? What is it?”
"Colonel Brandon.”
it took a couple of seconds, but then his low, rolling laugh filled the room. “Have you been reading Jane Austen again, love?”
“Yes, Daddy. Will you read it to me tonight?”
“Of course. Anything you like. All right then, have you got Colonel Brandon? Is he keeping you calm?”
“Um . . . mostly.”
“Well,” he tittered, obviously amused by her reservation, “I’ll be right here if he isn’t enough.” His hands caressed her rump in a reassuring manner, patting down her anxiety with his palms. “I’m going to turn on the water now, so try to relax, okay, baby?”
“Okay.”
Relax? He knew very well that after everything he’d put her through, relaxation would be impossible. While she’d admittedly recovered from her  “equestrian adventure” with surprising alacrity, the seemingly simple process of nappy removal turned out to be a Snape Special. His version included a lot of crinkly crotch rubbing, which he claimed would soak up all the cummies she’d made for him. Of course that had only made her wetter, and if his grin was any indication, he knew exactly how much wetter.
When it came time to take out the plug and dildo, she got what could only be called a “reverse fucking,” where instead of being precipitously filled with each thrust, her pussy lost its deposit. Her muscles put up a good fight, struggling to keep the toy internal, but everything was so damn slippery. She couldn’t keep hold.
After that cruel exodus, he proceeded to “kiss her all better,” which translated to him pushing back her legs and tonguing her to the brink of tears.
Just as the rush of orgasm approached, he rudely cut off all contact, leaving her bereft and vibrating with need, her body straining toward release.
Precisely where he wanted her.
Click. The snap of the flow regulator sent a shiver of adrenaline through her bloodstream, somehow freezing her with gooseflesh while simultaneously scalding her with a fever. Warm water trickled into her rectum, and in response, Muffy released what felt like an ocean of enthusiasm. While Hermione appreciated a spontaneous lubing as much as the next witch, the humiliation currently fricasseeing her face made it difficult to embrace such a profusion of arousal.
“Did you just come?” Severus asked, his tone gleeful rather than accusatory.
“No, Daddy. It’s just . . . wet.”
“I see.” And he did indeed, easing aside one slick labium for a visual inspection. “Well, well,” he said, trying to sound serious but apparently unable to stop laughing. “Didn’t I just lick this pussy clean a few minutes ago?”
“Mm-hm. Will you lick me clean again, Daddy?” She arched her back to lure him in.
“No-o-o,” he chuckled. “No more cummies until I’m deep inside this sweet little bottom hole.”
He kissed the base of her bum, right next to her pussy, and Hermione’s vision went dark, the majority of her blood stampeding from her head to her pelvis. “Uuuunnh!”
“Shhhhhh. You're getting too tense, baby. Take a deep breath for me.”
She did, her lungs stretching to full capacity, the extra oxygen smothering some of her urgency.
“Now let it out—slow as you can. That’s it. I want you to focus on keeping your breathing light and easy. Try closing your eyes and picturing yourself in a place you find relaxing.”
Behind her eyelids, Hermione immediately saw herself sleeping in the big bed with all three of them.
“Good girl. You’re already unclenching. Now just rest there, and I’ll tell you when the bag is empty.”
“‘Kay.”
She heard him moving around, possibly studying her from different angles, but she refused to check. At least with her eyes shut, she didn’t have to see that huge bulge in his trousers slithering down his leg like an anaconda.
No doubt he’d had to open his flies to give that thing some air. And he was probably stroking himself while he watched her, his hand loose, his thick knob gleaming with pre-ejaculate.
Bah! Stop torturing yourself, Hermione! Go back to the bed in your head. It’s night time and everyone’s asleep around you. It’s quiet. And warm. Draco’s breathing on your neck, and Lucius is holding your hand. Snape’s dick is flaccid, and he isn’t right behind you waiting to scramble your brains with his gargantuan stirring rod.
Don’t start that!
Okay, okay. Severus is breathing deeply through his nose and puffing the air out through his mouth every few minutes. His heart is beating against your cheek.
She grinned broadly. Snape’s heart.
That enigma might not be as elusive as she’d once thought. Hermione had always assumed it would take ages to penetrate his tough outer shell, but he’d gone and hacked away a thick layer of his own flakey crust without her help, exposing a side of himself she hadn’t been expecting.
That whole “I want to take care of you” speech had sucker punched her right in the feelings, but when he’d said he’d keep her safe and never push her away, she’d experienced the oddest sensation—as if her awareness had doubled and she was processing their conversation on multiple levels. With that split-screen perspective, she could see that, in his own way, he was telling her he loved her. But at the same time, she knew, with absolute clarity, he was also telling her what he needed most.
It was Severus who wanted to feel safe. It was Severus who feared abandonment. And it was Severus who, after a lifetime of denial, needed to care about someone with utter impunity.
How that must have terrified him—the man known for his callousness and cunning, who’d become a loner for the sake of survival. He’d been wandering the earth in a self-imposed prison for almost fifty years, his only relief coming in small spurts of interaction—a little Lily here, a little Lucius there—but never anything that offered him real respite from life’s harsher aspects.
It struck her then how self-aware and honest he’d been from the start. Veiled in a bundle of flowers, he’d sent a coded message from behind the reinforced walls of his mental-bunker. That sprig of Queen Anne’s lace stood out in her mind, its unassuming simplicity hidden amidst a cluster of colorful competition. While the other blossoms screamed of beauty and pleasure, the quiet Queen Anne’s lace, much like Severus, silently made its plea for sanctuary with little fanfare or ornamentation. 
Sanctuary.
She hadn’t grasped the full meaning of that word when she’d first heard it, but now that she’d gotten a glimpse of the emotional refugee he’d been harboring within, she understood. Severus needed someone to be his protection from the world, his haven of acceptance. His retreat. And he thought no one would ever want the job.
Just as Hermione had thought no one would ever understand her convoluted and contradictory sexual appetites. But look how wrong she’d been. And Severus had been wrong too, because being his sanctuary wasn’t a burden—it was a privilege.
“You’re being a very quiet,” Snape commented, his hand on her back. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“You’ve taken about half the bag. Are you getting too full?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“That’s my brave girl. Just a little bit longer.”
His fingers wandered up and down her spine, petting her into a groggy stupor. Hermione’s eyes drifted closed, and she, once again, took Lucius’s hand and settled herself between Draco and Severus in her head-bed.
Mmmm, Draco and Severus. The corners of her mouth curled with delight. She still hadn’t figured out what was going on between those two, but now that she’d been introduced to Snape’s alter ego, her Snaco fantasies would shift accordingly. Draco definitely needed more “Daddy” in his life—and Severus appeared ready to take on the role.
Although Draco responded to sexual domination in much the same way she did, Hermione sensed his motives varied greatly from hers. As far as she could tell, he wasn't looking to lose himself in the passion; it was more like he wanted to lose himself in love. Hermione wasn’t sure how his submissive tendencies fit into that, but maybe she didn’t have to have all the answers this time; maybe Snape could help her give Draco what he needed. And Draco could help her give Severus what he needed. It would be beneficial for everyone involved. Severus would get a double-decker sundae of acceptance and love, Hermione’s inner child would get the Daddy Dom it craved, and Draco would get a fucked-up father figure who wanted to shag him as much as hug him.
Christ, they were probably some psychoanalyst’s wet dream.
But what about Lucius? While she was positive he would be sympathetic to Snape’s desires, as Lucius had some very similar needs, he didn’t seem to require this new side of Severus. So then what did Severus and Lucius get from each other? How did they fit together? It was obvious there was a lot of unspoken love there . . . but it wasn’t the kind of sweet and romantic love she was used to.
It was something more.
Something uniquely them.
They were kind of like brothers—brothers who chose their roles. Or like soldiers who had spent a war together, living through the same battles, sharing the same pain. They were simpatico. There didn’t seem to be any competition between them, which was unusual for two men who both liked to be on top. Perhaps they were too tired and battle-scarred for pointless rivalries. Maybe they just wanted some peace after a lifetime of drama.
But clearly their feelings for one another were more than fraternal; they were lovers in the truest sense of the word. Their connection was so deep she could feel the energy passing between them. Which was beautiful in ways no words could describe. 
In fact, everything about those two defied description. Whatever it was they got from each other did wonders for the both of them. She felt lucky to be a witness to such a strangely beautiful duet.
The only tension in the house was between Draco and Lucius, who, on good days, were civil to one another, but on bad days, butted heads like billy goats. Despite their mulishness, it gave her hope to see harmony lasting longer and longer. She knew their love was strong, but until they stopped hating the parts of themselves they saw reflected in the other, they would keep picking at each other's heart until one of them bled to death.
Hermione refused to let that happen. She’d known the darkness of a time without family, and she didn’t wish that kind of loneliness on anyone, especially not two men she loved so dearly. Her parents weren’t as much a part of her life anymore, but their memories had been restored, and they’d forgiven the extreme measures she’d taken to protect them, insisting they understood her fears. She visited them twice a year in Australia, where they’d stayed on to continue with their thriving dental practice.
Hermione had decided from the start not to involve them in her contentious love life, and although she’d mentioned Draco in her letters, she hadn’t yet written to say she’d moved in with him . . . and his father . . . and her ex-professor. Her parents already thought her life was beyond bizarre, and she didn’t know how to explain the addition of three live-in boyfriends. Or the new aura vision she’d acquired. Or how she’d acquired it. Some things were better left unsaid.
“You took it all, baby.” Snape’s voice floated through her consciousness. “The bag’s empty. I’m going to take out the nozzle now.”
What no one had told her about enemas was that the nozzle coming out would turn her on just as much as the nozzle going in. The tip slipped free, and a few drops of water dribbled down to her pussy. She knew it was just the last dregs draining from the end, but paranoid about leaking, she clenched her cheeks to make sure that's all it was.
“There,” he said, his touch ghosting over her labia. “In ten minutes you’ll be squeaky clean. You want me to put your nappy back on, don’t you?”
Her face almost set Colonel Brandon on fire. “You’re not gonna stuff me full of toys again, are you?”
“No, baby, you’re full enough. Just the nappy.”
Wait, wait, wait! She didn’t say NO toys. “You’re not going to use the sparkly plug?” 
“Not this time. I want you to show me how tight you can keep this sweet little bottom hole. And if you can’t keep it all in. . . well, that’s what nappies are for.”
Hermione’s eyes popped open. Was he serious! While she might enjoy the mild shame involved in this game, she didn't actually want to make a mess. She did have limits.
“Why don’t you turn over for me,” he said coaxingly. “Be careful. Take your time.”
Lowering herself to the tabletop, Hermione rested on her hip and started to roll over. Oh gods! Lucius had been right—gravity was not her friend. Choking her bear in a death grip, she eased onto her back and stared down at her rounded abdomen in horrified amazement.
“That’s it,” he said, guiding her thighs open with his fingertips. “Keep hugging Colonel Brandon while I get you changed.”
Hermione tried to focus on her furry sidekick, but when that proved ineffectual, she turned her attention to Snape. His aura, which was brighter than she’d ever seen before, danced with several vibrant new colors, and like a child with a kaleidoscope, she was enamored by the dazzling display. Around his head and face were bright blues and purples, suggesting his confession had not only set him free but had profoundly integrated his heart and mind. She could only assume that meant something about being her daddy filled an intrinsic need in his soul. Was it his need to love and nurture? That glittery green patch centered over his chest seemed to indicate it was. His heart had opened before her eyes, his willingness to feel and share coloring his aura with a compassionate glow. Reaching out, she touched the emerald swatch and smiled when it pulsed beneath her fingers.
Severus paused in his ministrations to give her a searching smirk, probably wondering what the hell she was doing. When Hermione smiled back, he chuckled under his breath and went about his business.
Taking care not to jostle her too much, Snape slid the nappy under her bum and then checked to make sure she was okay. Her heavy panting must have conveyed excitement rather than panic, because he cupped her pussy in one huge hand and slipped his middle finger between her lips, tracing the engorged tissue of her opening. When she whimpered, the corner of his mouth lifted in a sly grin, but he provided no further vaginal assistance.
Hermione wasn't too proud to beg. “Please, will you finger my pussy, Daddy?”
"This little pussy?” he asked, lightly tickling her folds. “This little pussy that’s soaking my hand . . . and your nappy . . . and the table?”
“Yes, Daddy. Don’t you like it when I’m wet?”
“Daddy loves it when you’re wet. Good little girls are always juicy.”
She burst out laughing. “Then I must be the best little girl in the world. And don’t good girls get fingers in their pussies?”
Smiling, he pulled up the cotton crotch between her legs, tugging it rhythmically so it rode against her clit. “They get whatever Daddy thinks they need. And I don’t think my finger is what you really need right now.”
“Oh yes it is,” she assured him.
“No. It isn’t,” he countered. “Daddy knows what’s best for you, and I can tell by how fussy you’re getting that it’s time for your feeding.”
My feeding ? Mm! Daddy was all kinds of dirty, wasn’t he? “I could go for a snack. Is it candy?”

He snickered as he held the crinkly plastic to her distended belly, preparing to seal her up. “It’s more salty than sweet—but you can suck on it like a lollipop.”

Gee, I wonder what it could be. “Can I have it right now?”

“Juuuuust a second,” he said, pressing the adhesive tape into place over her hipbones. “Let’s make sure you’re all set here.”

Resting his hand on her mound, he rubbed her through the padding, forcing her to acknowledge what she was wearing—and her lubricious reaction to it. Her clit flared to life, and Hermione’s breathy giggling stuttered to gasp.

“Looks like you’re ready,” he said teasingly. “Let me help you down from there, love. I don’t want you to fall and pop yourself like a water balloon.”

She knew he was joking, but the possibility felt all too real. Hermione took his hand and, clenching her teeth and her sphincter, levered herself up and perched on the edge of the table, her buttocks so tight she sat at least an inch taller. Picking her up under the arms, Snape lowered her to the floor, and Hermione grabbed hold of her gut as a tidal wave crashed through her colon.

“I’m so full, Daddy. I need to go.”

“No, baby,” he said softly and then stroked her face so she looked up at him. “Ten minutes. By then the powder will have vanished anything in your bowels and you can breathe easy. If you let it out now, it’ll be very messy, and we’ll have to do it again to get you clean. I know you’re uncomfortable, but I want you to show me you can keep that bottom tight for me.”

She cradled her belly with one arm and put Colonel Brandon in a sleeper hold with the other. “Yes, Daddy.”

Bending down, Severus pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “That’s my girl. Now, are you sure you’re ready for Daddy’s lolly? I can wait if you need a break.”

Hermione glanced at his trousers. Gods, she wanted that cock! And it might help keep her mind off the interminable countdown. “I want it.” She looked him in the eye. “I always want it.”

Snape’s sneaky smile returned, and his hand wandered down to his zip. “Can you get on your knees, or do I need to help you?”

“I can do it by myself.” I think. “Will you hold Colonel Brandon for me?”

“I’d rather not.” He eyed the bear with a wary arch of one black brow.

Hermione almost lost it, choking on her guffaw. Who could have guessed stuffed animals would be Snape’s kryptonite? “Please, Daddy. Just while I get in place.”

“Very well.” He pinched the bear’s paw between his thumb and forefinger as if he didn’t trust its squishy handshake.

What a strange man. He had no inhibitions when it came to turning her into his little girl, but throw some fur-covered cotton batting at him, and he didn’t know what to do. As Hermione sank to the floor in slow motion, it dawned on her that Colonel Brandon might be his first foray into cuddlies, and then she wondered what he’d toted around for comfort as a child. Books?

Or was that just her?

When she was safely on her knees—nappy still dry—Hermione sighed in relief and held out a hand. “Okay. I’ll take him back.”

He passed the bear down to her, and she propped Colonel Brandon in the space between Snape’s feet. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, but she could see he was struggling not to laugh.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked wearily.

“I work better with an audience.”

Chuffing out an reluctant half-snort, Snape conceded with a nod. “All right . . . go ahead.”

Hermione winked at Colonel Brandon. The stitched smile remained steady, but she could tell he was impressed by not only her ability to curry favor with the stolid Potions master but also her audacious enthusiasm for his legendary leviathan. Fear not, my brave bear, for this beast and I are old friends. Watch how quickly he succumbs to my womanly wiles.

Hermione reached into Snape's open flies and tucked her fingertips over the waistband of his boxers. A tremor of exhilaration bubbled through her body, leaving a heady impetuosity in its wake. She knew the encroaching intoxication of subspace when she felt it, but she’d never gotten there without a spanking before. And instead of feeling sleepy-stoned like she usually did, she felt dizzily impish. Free. It was fun. Are you ready to play, Daddy?

Yanking hard, she pulled down his trousers with enough force to make his cock spring back up like a perky gymnast. She enjoyed the show, but all that jumping about made it difficult to assess the moisture levels. Was he really as salty as advertised, or had his underwear stolen the cream of the crop?  She left his trousers wreathed around his hips and went in search of libations.

Oo! A sparkle of pre-seminal promise clung to his tip, calling to her, begging for a lick, but she preferred to save the best for last. I’ll come back for you later. Don’t go anywhere.

Pushing his shirt out of the way, Hermione bowed her head to calm his cock with a kiss. He was twitching so hard all she had to do was get close, and it rose to meet her in a series of gravity defying pecks. When her taste buds touched his shaft, she almost convulsed in a flavor-gasm. Sweet Merlin! He tasted amazing—like want and lust tied together with an enormous bow of bollocks.

His hard-on jolted against her lips, ascending skyward as if beckoning her toward his most aromatic areas. Hermione took its suggestion and ducked down to seal her mouth to the top of his sac. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, filling her senses with his scent as she tongued the loose skin surrounding his scrotum. He must have liked that, because his erection sideswiped her cheek and banged into her temple like a staggering drunk.

She’d never been beaten about the head with such a delicious truncheon before. She kind of wanted him to do it again—but on purpose.  How did one request that kind of treatment? Oh, no, I’m resisting arrest, Officer Willyclub. Subdue me! But wait, what if slapping wasn’t quite what she wanted? Was there was some kind of rolling pin maneuver he could employ? She just wanted him all over her face, the smell of him impossible to escape.

Hermione rubbed her nose into his groin, humming merrily as his stiff rod buffeted her cheek. She lapped at his sac with everything she had, and when he grunted and cupped the back of her head, encouraging her adoration, she slid her hand between his thighs to explore the bollock backcourt. 

Obviously in favor of her plan and wanting to give her more room, Snape shifted his legs back and forth, shucking his layers like a reptile shedding its skin. His clothes dropped to the floor, which toppled Colonel Brandon and, were he not made of stuffing, would have resulted in a serious head injury. 

With a cry of playful disbelief, Hermione rescued her comrade and pretended to check for injuries while Severus kicked off his trousers. Unfettered, his dick swung low and smacked his thigh. Her eyes stayed with its heavy sway, unable—or unwilling—to lose sight of it for even an instant.

’Cock Glorious Cock!’

Shut it, Muffy! This is not the appropriate time for that song.

‘Oh yes it is, dearie. All rise for the Cockpopolis National Anthem.’

I don’t think I can.

‘I wasn’t talking to you, was I? Just put your hand over your heart and sing.’

Hermione dutifully placed Colonel Brandon’s paw over his heart. Muffy’s anthem was rather short, which, given the time constraints, seemed for the best. But Hermione wasn’t sure if “hot custard-filled bollocks” really rhymed with “thrusting twixt my buttocks.” Still, she applauded the sentiment.

Once Snape was naked from the waist down, Hermione assured Colonel Brandon that no further harm could befall him and stationed him back at his post.
Severus used one hand to draw her in while the other started on his shirt buttons, and Hermione reapplied herself to the search for any missing cream by methodically covering him in long licks, not wanting to miss any possible hiding spots.
“That’s it,” he muttered approvingly. “Get Daddy as hard as you can.”
Hermione wrapped her hand around him, and his cock hummed like an engine in her grip, pulsating and hot. Lifting his length, she brazenly sniffed him from root to tip. Daddy smelled like fucking. And he tasted even better. Mouthing him like an ear of corn, she slurped the sex-salt from his skin. “Mmmmmmmm.”
“Good girl,” he purred, tossing aside his shirt. “Keep playing with my balls while you suck my cock.”
She moved in for the kill, but just as her lips were about to make contact, Hermione stopped and looked up, her expression demure, but her intentions devious—Daddy needed a little teasing to enhance the experience.
He looked frightfully tall from crotch-level, and his hair hung around his face in a way that hid half his features in murky shadows—but the visible side sported a sexy snarl that had Muffy erupting in an aqueous squee.
Hermione bit her lip and did her best to carry on with her mission of enticement. “You taste so good, Daddy.”
“I’m going to taste even better once I’ve been in your arse.”
Damn. Daddy wasn’t as far gone as she’d hoped if he was lucid enough to say something like that. And to add injury to insult, the mere mention of her arse renewed the ache in her bowels with a vengeance. “How much more time till I can go to the potty?” 
He grinned. “Five more minutes.”
Fuck. "I really need to go."
“Five more minutes,” he repeated firmly.
Hermione sighed and made sure he felt it. “Yes, Daddy.”
She told her sphincter to cease its screaming, but it continued to wail a high-pitched alarm. Okay, brain. It’s up to you. Do you think you can block out that caterwauling and complete the task at hand? 
There was no answer, and Hermione knew why. STOP FANTASIZING ABOUT THE LOO! 
Her body responded, but whether that was due to brain activity or simple muscle memory, she couldn’t be sure. Whatever it was, her hand rose, bringing his cock to her mouth. But instead of sucking him clean, she touched his simmering glans to her bottom lip and drew it side to side, glossing her mouth in a shimmery topcoat of Crystal Clear Cum.
When she glanced up from beneath her lashes, he was staring at her so intently her heart forgot how to beat; she almost fainted when it restarted at a sprinter’s Ba-Boom Ba-Boom Ba-Boom! 
Grabbing hold of his hip to keep from keeling over, she poked out her tongue and then, millimeter by millimeter, swiped right, scooping up her prize. He made a growly noise of encouragement and rocked forward, but Hermione flinched, and his cock missed its target, grazing her cheek. De-nied! With a dramatic flair Lucius would have been proud of, Hermione made a show of swallowing and then displaying her empty mouth, curling her tongue in a cheeky “try again.”
Her dare was met posthaste. He didn’t even wait for her to dock him properly; he just thrust again, skimming her cheek once more. Hermione turned her head, and as he drew back for another try, she parted her lips so her mouth dragged along his length.
When his heated knob reached her tongue, she laved its scalding expanse in wide strokes. He grunted and went for a third try—but Hermione threw up a hand to still his hips. Not yet, love. Watch this. Wiggling her tongue over his slitted opening, she licked away his lust as it sprang from the source, and when his breathing stuttered, she gently nudged the tip of her tongue into the hole and fucked it with tiny pulses of pressure.
Snape made a noise she’d never heard before—possibly a growl that crossed into tones inaudible to the human ear. Her pussy, however, heard it loud and clear, like a Rottweiler responding to a dog whistle. Perhaps that’s how he’d summon her from then on. Her eardrums would pick up a mild rumble on the wind, but her clit would drop whatever it was doing and go chasing after the call.
“You love that cum, don’t you?” he growled. “Go on, little girl. Put it in your mouth. Let me feel those lips.”
Hermione slid her tongue under his head, making him think his wishes were about to come true, but once she had his frenulum on call, she proceeded to tap out a message in Morse code. SOS. Monster cock spotted off the starboard bow. Hull has been breached and is full of water. Send help. And toilets.
His next growl sounded like a warning, so she abruptly cut off communications. But that didn’t mean she was abandoning Operation: Drive Daddy Mad with Desire.
Obediently closing her mouth around his head, Hermione enveloped him in warmth, her tongue nothing more than a wisping caress. Lips loose, she leaned back. No suction. Just slack softness.
He went hard as mahogany.
She did it again, this time turning her face side to side and making sure he felt the silky inner rim of her lips on the curve of his corona. She could swear he was whining like a puppy in between groans—but maybe she was hearing things.
“While I am enjoying this exquisite torture, Daddy needs some thrusting. You want to make Daddy happy, don’t you, baby girl?”
Hermione nodded, not bothering to release him before doing so.
Inhaling sharply though his nose, he stared her down. “Suck me deep, love. Show Colonel Brandon how much of my cock you can take.”
Hermione almost sputtered around him in uproarious laughter.  Not only was he manipulating her need to prove herself, but he’d commandeered her bear for his nefarious plot. How very Slytherin of him.
That underhanded trickery, combined with the tension in his posture, could only mean one thing: he was onto her game and didn’t want her to know how close she was to breaking him.
Which meant she’d already won.
Rejoicing in her conquest, Hermione took him in her mouth and circled his damp glans in a sloppy victory lap. She wouldn’t mention his defeat until later; no sense risking retaliation when there was so much he could still deny her.
With a huge smile—which was hard to do with one’s mouth stretched wide—she bobbed up and down his cock and made up for all the waiting she’d put him through.
“That’s right,” he murmured, sounding both relieved and on edge. “Just a few more minutes and then you can let out some of that water.”
As soon as he said the word “water,” the urgency wracking her colon increased a thousand fold. 
“Deeper, baby girl. I know you can take it.”
Hermione moaned, squirming in crampy discomfort. Just a little longer. You can do it. Focus on his cock. Your bum is not about to self-destruct. Don’t think about it. Consciously releasing the muscles in her neck, she concentrated on getting him into her throat.
“Yessss,” he hissed. “Such a good little girl. Don’t hurt yourself.”
Although she felt a rush of triumph when she surpassed her usual limits, it wasn’t long before the need for air overrode her need to please, and Hermione had to pull away to catch her breath. A huge glob of her spit stayed behind, frothing his head in a white cap, and a line of saliva connected the two of them like a sparkly rope bridge. She went to wipe it away, but he caught her wrist in midair.
“No, baby. That’s your spit-string of success. Leave it right where it is.”
Hermione nodded, trying to keep a straight face. What a perv. Since when was he into slobber?
Severus tickled her cheek. “You’re not giving up, are you? Colonel Brandon and I were just marveling at what a gifted little cock sucker you are. T’would be a shame to waste such outstanding talent.”
Smiling, she dived back in and took as much of him as she could, gently prodding her own soft palate until her larynx let him pass. Her throat clutched at his monumental girth, but she managed to not gag.
At first.
His breathy grunts became more amorous as he slid down her gullet, and Hermione succumbed to the uncontrollable salivation, allowing the overflow to leak from the corners of her mouth as he went even deeper.
Suddenly, she needed to swallow, but her body’s involuntary gulp was arrested by his erection, choking her from the inside out. Ripping herself off him with a wet cough, the buildup of drool burst from her lips in a torrential spitsplosion.
“Oh-h-h, baby,” he chuckled, wiping the spray from his pelvis with the edge of his palm. “That’s all right. You’re just a messy little girl, aren’t you?”
Hermione sat there. Petrified. She didn’t give a fairy’s fuck about the spit; what had transpired in her nappy mid-cough was of far greater concern. She stared at his feet, panting in horror. Bum leakage was NOT sexy.
“I didn’t know you’d look so cute all covered in drool.” His warm fingers wiped at her chin. “Let me see your mouth. You’ve got it everywhere.”
Hermione turned her face to his but couldn’t bring herself to meet his eye.
“What is it, love? I can see I’m going to have to get you a bib, but that’s no reason to look so worried.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart racing. She couldn’t tell him what had happened. Those words would not cross her lips.
Severus crouched down. “Baby, what’s the matter? Was that too much? We don’t have to do it again if it upsets you.”
Hermione shook her head. Dick sucking wasn’t scary; it was fun. She loved making him mental. But now their fun was ruined. She’d let him down. It was like failing a test, except a trillion times more humiliating.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
Hermione opened her eyes, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears.
His brow contracted with apprehension. “Why are you crying, love? Are you injured?”
She shook her head again.
Snape studied her for a moment then delicately entered her mind, holding her so she couldn’t look away. Hermione didn’t want him to see what she’d done, but he was going to find out sooner or later, and she definitely didn’t want to be the one to tell him.
Severus’s frown lightened when he realized the cause of her distress. “Did some of the water come out?”
She looked away.
"That's all right. Sometimes little girls have accidents. I told you I wanted to take care of you. You didn’t think I’d be upset, did you?”
“You told me to hold it,” she whispered. “I couldn’t do it, and now . . .” Now she felt like an incontinent toddler.
“Don’t worry, you made it the ten minutes. It’s just water. All you’ve got is a wet nappy. Now come along, let Daddy take care of you. I’ll make it all better.”
He kissed her cheek, and some of her anxiety faded. She felt ridiculous. And mortified. But also a little hopeful. He really didn’t seem bothered. He was handling the situation with aplomb. Daddy Dom aplomb.
Hermione sniffled, and he handed her the bear. Giving him a watery smile, she hugged Colonel Brandon to her chest, curling into his gooshy body.
Severus offered her his hand, and when she was standing, he took her over to the changing table. “I’ve got to pick you up. Are you ready?”
She nodded and braced herself. The trip was a short one, and he was extra-gentle, but her muscles were straining to keep her bum sealed, and being in a seated position wasn’t helping.
“Okay, baby. Lie down.”
Hermione tipped onto her back and closed her eyes, exhaling a jagged stitch of tension from her chest.
“Why don’t you lift up your shirt for me. Let Daddy see those pretty pink nipples.”
His cajoling tone quieted her inner turmoil, and she obligingly rolled her shirt above her tits.
Severus took her stuffed bear and, pinching one arm between his fingers, waggled it up and down so it looked as if Colonel Brandon was waving at her.
When she giggled, Severus brushed the bear’s plush paw over her breast. She couldn’t help arching into his furry caress, her senses yearning to be soothed.
"Colonel Brandon loves your nipples too,” he quipped. “I want you to keep him right here while I take off your nappy, all right?”
Hermione nodded and did as he said, trying to concentrate on the comforting feel of fur rather than the rattled nervousness of nappy time.
Severus kept one eye on her as he pulled the adhesive tabs open and peeled down the front. “See?” His inflection suggested there was nothing to fear. “Just water. It’s barely anything. In fact,” he said, stretching to the side and opening one of the hidden drawers, “I don't think this nappy is nearly wet enough. Let's see if any more comes out with a little extra . . . incentive.”
Hermione lifted her head, an anxious grimace contorting her face, but he just smirked and kicked the pile of bears out of his way so he could stand at the short end of the table near her feet. Grabbing her by the hips, Snape dragged her to him. The backs of her ball socks hit his shoulders, and he held on to her calves so she’d leave them there. When she relaxed, he turned his head and placed a kiss to the arch of her foot.
“That’s it. Nice and calm. Just give me a second to get ready.”
He twisted open a little jar and slathered his cock in some kind of oil. Spellbound, Hermione watched as his erection gleamed in the lamplight. Was he going to . . . ?
Severus lubed his fingers and spread her arse. Two digits eased inside, and Hermione almost shot off the table. Sweet Circe! Some of the water leaked out, and she sucked in a silent whimper, panic seizing her throat.
"Good girl," he murmured. "Get Daddy's fingers all wet. You like the way that feels, don’t you?”
It was certainly keeping her attention.
Nudging his length between her cheeks, Severus tapped at her back door. “I’ll help you hold in what’s left. Ready, baby?”
Was he seriously going to bugger her with all the water still inside? Where would he find the room? Muffy demanded answers. And demonstrations. “I . . . I think so.”
His eyes locked on hers, and her stomach did an impromptu breakdance on her pancreas. That thrill of penetration-anticipation washed over her just as it always did, but this time something was different. Drastically different. There was no shield between her gaze and his. No wall. No buffer. He was right there—with her. Not studying her, or peering at her in that calculating way he did. Nor was he leering. Or mesmerized.
The intimacy flowing between them seemed like something that should have been joyous and carefree, and it might have been, except, for the first time ever, she was looking into the eyes of the real Severus Snape. A wizard she’d never met. A veritable stranger.
Yet she felt as if she’d known him all her life.
The man before her didn’t need sneers or glares to keep the world at a distance. He was whole in himself, secure, exactly as he was meant to be.
This was the Severus he could have been had life seen fit to deal him a kinder hand.
That’s when it hit her. She suddenly understood what those new colors in his aura really meant.
This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t sex. This was atonement.
And she was his path to transcendence.
While that revelation could have frightened her, in that moment Hermione felt only gratitude. It was a blessing to see an innocent man finally set free. And he was innocent. Past deeds aside, the lonely boy who had disappeared into himself all those years ago had committed no crime.
And that was what she saw: a man with a child’s eyes, hope burning in his black gaze, cautiously curious after so many years locked away. But there was a playfulness there too, an excitement for life she’d never seen from him before.
That he would trust her with such a fragile piece of his soul . . . The responsibility was staggering. 
But the honor, that was wondrous. 
Something like pride—but infinitely greater—suffused her heart. It lifted her high, above her worries, above her embarrassment. The word trust took on new meaning, blending so seamlessly with love she didn’t know where one stopped and the other began. Her chest constricted, and a bolt of effervescence shot to her head, leaving her dizzy with elation.
Her mind began to float away; she could almost picture it fading into the distance.
This was what he could give her that no one else could.
Severus shifted forward, his hand braced on her left buttock, pulling it to the side as he slowly sank into her. Totally in control. The full enormity of his manhood broke her apart, not with pain, but with knowledge, a knowing so absolute it resonated in every cell of her body.
This was his gift.
As he sluiced through the reservoir pooled in her rectum, her world compressed and shrank, smaller and smaller, until nothing existed except her body wrapped around his. 
And the peace.
The inner chatter died. She had no brain. Only the exquisite rapture of fulfillment. The muscle and sinew that had held her together for so many years dissolved, her body no longer composed of blood and bone. 
She was time. 
Each second was an eternity that passed into another eternity, falling away to make room for something even more perfect, something that could only exist in that instant and might disappear forever if she didn’t watch it evolve.
But there was no chance she’d miss a second of that bliss, because he had the one thing big enough to obliterate her compulsive monkey mind. His cock centered in the present.
It always had.
“That doesn’t hurt does it, baby? You have to tell me if it’s too much.”
Hermione blinked, caught off guard by the ecstasy of his voice amidst such euphoria. Grasping at his hand, she anchored herself to him, but once she was sure of the connection, of his power, she let go. It was time for him to guide her home. “I like it, Daddy. But I don’t know if I have any more room inside.”
He loosened her with a roll of his hips. “You’re going to be extremely full, but I think you’ll adjust. And don’t worry if anything comes out. The nappy’s still right underneath you, and I can clean up anything that misses it.”
He found a spot in her arse that made her see stars, and Hermione floated into orbit.
"Did Lucius fuck this little bottom yesterday? Is he keeping you stretched for Daddy?”
Hermione nodded, too dazed to reply.
“I know,” he said with a smirk. “I saw. You were begging him to get deeper, to fuck you faster. That look on your face when you’re penetrated is absolutely divine. I’ve never seen such cock-loving little girl.”
Her eyes rolled back as he worked in the last few inches. “Daddy!”
“There’s my sweet girl. Did you like that? Do you want it deeper? Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”
“Like this”, she rasped, her head whirling. “Deep and slow. Oh gods! You’re so big, Daddy. Don’t hurt me.”
“Never,” he whispered. “Daddies don’t hurt their little girls . . . unless that little girl pulls down her panties and begs for it. Spankings are for hurting, fuckings are for making sure baby is happy.” There was pause, and he almost stopped moving. “Are you happy?”
The vulnerability in his expression stole her breath; she could see the longing in his eyes, the need to be her everything. And in that moment, he was. “You always make me happy, Daddy.”
The corner of his mouth rose in relief, but it morphed to a wince as she spasmed around him. “Take it easy, love.”
“I can’t help it; the water is sloshing around.”
He held her by the ankles and looked to where they were joined. At first she thought he was just enjoying the view, but then he pulled out, not roughly, but abruptly enough to leave her gaping. Water surged from her depths, and Hermione sputtered in shock.
Smiling, Severus slid right back in. “That was lovely. You’re just a wet little girl all around, aren’t you?” He curled his hand between her legs and tickled her clit. “Wet little pussy. Wet little bottom. Wet little dick drooler.”
“Please fuck me faster, Daddy!”
He bumped her cheeks with his pelvis, revving his rutting into second gear. “Are you ready to come for me, little girl?”
“Yes, Daddy!” Merciful Merlin! Her bum was about to burst!
“Hold on.” He pulled out, and her bowels expelled another jet of water, probably saturating the nappy like a tissue in a tsunami.
“Doesn’t that feel better?” he asked as he glided back inside.
“Yes!” His finger returned to her clit and touched her in a way that had her questioning the reality of the universe. How could a finger feel so sublime? “I’m gonna come!”
“Okay, baby. Get Daddy’s cock as wet as you can.”
Hermione’s toes curled, her approaching orgasm announcing its arrival feet first. Oh gods! She didn’t have much time; and he hadn’t said the magic phrase yet. “Am I your good girl, Daddy?”
His face softened. “Yes, love. You’re always my good girl. Daddy’s good little girl.” Her muscles clamped around him, and he grunted appreciatively. “That’s it. Come for me, baby. Come for me . . . right . . . now.”
Hermione’s back spasmed into a hard arch, and she locked Colonel Brandon to her side as the pulsating release pounded through her veins. She was flying, launched into an orgasm that bordered on blackout. Snape’s cock thumped inside her, tethering her to her body and whipping the climax to a frenzied dance. She couldn’t see straight. The driving bass line of his thrusts vibrated through her core with such strength the room rattled.
Severus followed soon after, shooting his seed deep into her tract, an animal growl escaping his grimace. His brow stayed furrowed throughout. He always looked so serious when he came. It was hot as hell, but she longed to kiss away his tension.
When his balls were empty, he planted his hands next to her hips and slumped down with a knackered sigh.
Hermione rested one hand atop his.
Smiling, he flipped up his palm and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “You all right?”
Hermione nodded. “I like the way you fuck my arse, Daddy.”
He breathed out a sleepy chuckle of agreement. “And I like the way you come, baby girl. How’s your poor little bottom holding up? If you’re ready, we can go to the loo, and you can let out that enema.”
“Yes, Daddy. Now! Please!”
Grinning, Severus carefully extracted his cock, which was still hard as marble. More water spilled out, but Hermione snapped her cheeks together to hold in the rest.
“Hold on, let me help you down.”
He pushed aside the wet nappy and, scooping her up, lightly set her on the floor.
Hermione was running before her feet could hit the carpet. The room blurred around her. Bearsbathroomsinktubtoilet.
Lunging toward her goal, the frigid bowl chilled her in a shock of porcelain.
Thank gods! She’d made it! Her guts cramped and burbled, but she was too relieved to register the discomfort. Just the embarrassment. Hiding her face in her hands, she pretended the liquid roar beneath her was a plumbing problem she couldn’t hear. 
Severus came in, which was both good and bad. She liked the way he took care of her, but she didn’t want him to see her sitting there with a waterfall shooting out of her arse. 
As if oblivious to her plight, he calmly approached and pulled her face against his stomach, just as he had the first time. No longer on display, her humiliation short-circuited, and in less than three seconds, her body had gone limp. His long fingers wove through her hair to massage her scalp, and Hermione closed her eyes as a stream of whispered praise fell from his lips, hypnotizing her with a steady flow of aural porn.
When her bum finally ran dry, which seemed to take forever, he patted her back to bring her out of hiding. “Are you empty, love?’
“I think so, Daddy.”
“Okay, let me dry you off.”
He cleaned her with a wave of his hand and sent a warm blast of air over her bum, which made her squeak in surprise
Snape snickered. “Did you like that?”
“Yes, Daddy. Again!”
The warm air reappeared. “Better?”
“It’s niiiice.”
“Are you tired now?”
“Yes.” Bloody hell, she could sleep for a week!
“All right. Let’s go in the other room. I want to make sure you’re recovered before dinner.”
He helped her up then led her back to the bed, where he peeled off her shirt but left her in her socks and bunches. They got in together, and he arranged her so her head was on his heart and his fading sex was warm against her stomach. When he gave the back of her neck an affectionate tickle, she curled into the safety of his chest.
“I assume you want to do more of this in the future,” he said knowingly.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“I love taking care of you, baby girl.”
She beamed, her cheeks glowing. “I love the way you take care of me, Daddy. Are you sure you’ve never done this with anyone else?”
His exhalation sounded like a chuff of amusement. “I don’t think anyone else wants this side of me.”
“Draco might,” she said quietly. “Maybe not quite the way I do, but he likes to be taken care of.”
“Yes, he does,” Severus agreed. “But Draco doesn’t want a daddy—he wants a mummy.”
Hermione looked up at him. “Are you suggesting I should be his new mummy?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know if Draco actually wants to play mummy with you the way you just played Daddy with me, but he wants you to love and care for him the way a mother would.”
For some reason, hearing Severus state Draco’s needs so bluntly made everything fall into place. Even though Draco responded favorably to her domination—whether forceful or teasing—his underlying need was something much more instinctual. More complex. It was painfully clear he’d been looking for someone to fill the affection-void Narcissa had left, but Hermione had never considered tailoring her approach to meet that need so specifically. They’d kind of drifted in that direction, but only because Hermione drew so much of what she did to him from what Severus did to her.
But she could easily take it further. Much further.
“So you want a little girl, and Draco wants a mummy,” Hermione said, taking inventory. “What does Lucius want? How do I be the princess he needs?”
“I think you’re already the princess he needs. You don’t have to do anything special. Just let him take care of you the way he does best.”
“So I should let him buy me things and cover me in diamonds?”
“I think you already know why he does that.”
She nodded. “He wants to provide. It makes him feel useful. He told me.”
Both of Severus’s black brows popped to his hairline. “Did he? That’s rather open and honest for Lucius.”
"You're pretty open and honest yourself.”
He ran his fingers over her flushed face, tracing the corners of her mouth. “Enjoy it while you can. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”
Hermione pressed her hand to his chest as if she could keep him in her heart with physical force. She didn’t want this Severus to go anywhere. She didn’t want to see him to retreat back into himself and shut everyone out. She didn’t want him to be alone. “Do you love Lucius?”
He gave her a funny look, and hummed a noncommittal, “Hmmmmm.”
“He loves you.”
“Did he say that?”
“He said it’s complicated, but I understood. I wish you two would be more honest with each other. I’d think you’d both want as many people loving you as possible.”
The divot between Snape’s brows deepened to a gully. “It’s not that easy for us. Love can be dangerous.”
She could see where Lucius and Severus were coming from with that whole “love is a battlefield” mentality, but unfortunately, in the long run, the effort they put into protecting their scarred hearts was more damaging than the abandonment they so desperately sought to avoid.  “I don’t think Lucius would ever hurt you if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried about Lucius hurting me. It’s not that.”
“What is it?”
“It’s . . .” He looked away, a pained scowl cinching his lips. “It’s my past. It’s Lucius’s past. We’re both haunted by mistakes and . . . loss. Neither of us grew up in particularly pleasant households, and to say openness was discouraged would be a crude understatement. That’s just how it was back then. Lucius and I are comfortable with the way we are. We understand each other.”
Hermione turned her face to the side and rested her cheek on his heart. “That’s really sad, Severus.”
“Why?”
“Because even the most stoic warriors need to hear I love you now and then. Even if they already know it.”
Snape trailed his fingers over the nape of her neck. “Perhaps.”
“You’re a very stubborn man,” she murmured, placing a kiss to his nipple.
“So I’ve been told.”
“But I love you anyway.”
His fingers froze. “What did you say?”
She propped her chin on his chest and met his eye. “I said I love you anyway. And I know you already knew, so don’t pretend you didn’t see this coming. I love you and Draco and Lucius, and even if you and Lucius can’t say it right now, that doesn’t mean you don’t need to hear it. I understand why you’re holding back, and I’m okay with that. You’ll say it when you’re ready . . . or you’ll just stay silent forever. Either way, I think all three of you deserve to hear the truth. If it makes your life a little better, I want you to know.”
Severus just stared at her for a minute, still and unblinking. Finally, he swallowed loudly and whispered, “I can’t say it back.”
“I know. That’s all right. I didn’t expect you to. But I still love you. Are you okay with that?”
A look of confusion blinked over his face. “Yes.”
“Good. So I can say it, and it won't upset you?”
“It . . . won’t upset me.”
“Then I’ll say it every day. I’ll have to find a way to tell Lucius soon. He needs to hear it too, and I don’t want him to think I love him any less.”
“You’re a sweet witch,” he muttered, possibly to himself. “I think maybe we’re more damaged than you realize.”
No, she knew; she just wasn’t going to let their reluctance stifle this amazing thing they had going. “Maybe. But that doesn’t change the way I feel.”
The door to the hall creaked open, and Hermione and Severus both turned to see Draco peeking around the edge.
“Are you two busy?”
Severus waved him over. “We were just talking.”
Draco glanced around the room as if worried he'd interrupted their play. “Is it time to take a bath? I’m cold . . . and a bit sticky.”
Hermione grinned. “I’ll get you warm.” Looking up at Severus, she waggled her eyebrows. “Want to give me a bath, Daddy?”
His lips ticked up, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course I will. When I’m done, perhaps you should give Draco a bath.”
Hermione’s grin curled to a lecherous leer. “That was the plan.”
“All right,” he chuckled, giving in to her levity. “I’ll need a minute to clean up everything from earlier.”
“’Kay.” She wiggled higher and pecked his nose. “I love you, Daddy. Will you tuck me in tonight and kiss me so I have nice dreams?”
He seemed to be lost in thought, but he nodded, and when he leaned in to kiss her, his black eyes were solemn with promise. “Every night, baby . . . every single night.”
Lullaby—a soothing refrain; specifically : a song to quiet children or lull them to sleep.
“Time of the Season” by The Zombies. Written by Rod Argent (the Zombies’ keyboard player) and released in 1968. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qzpPy9hJYA8
Colonel Brandon—This is just a little Easter egg for my fellow Rickmaniacs. Colonel Brandon is Alan Rickman’s character in Sense and Sensibility.
“I Feel Pretty” is from West Side Story. Music by Leonard Bernstein and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim.
“Love is a Battlefield” Song by Pat Benatar. Written by Holly Knight and Mike Chapman.
The Cockpopolis National Anthem is sung to the tune of “Food Glorious Food” from the musical Oliver, and is as follows:
Cock glorious cock
(And) Hot custard filled bollocks
Harder than a rock
Thrusting twixt my buttocks

My pussy deserves the credit for this song as she came up with it on the spot when I pushed for an example to use.
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