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Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire	By : CMW Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 11952 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Anti-Litigation Charm: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story, though wish I did. The only money I have goes toward good wine and chocolate. You can't

Chapter List
- 62
- 63
- 64
Kiaya was naked. While vaguely confusing, it didn’t seem to matter in the warm, dark comfortable cocoon of mostly-asleep. Oh, and she did like being mostly asleep, especially when she dreamed of Severus Snape.

She stretched one leg and tugged the linens higher over her bare back. Her nightgown was usually bunched and twisted around her waist at this point of the morning. No, she didn’t really mind nude.

Except when someone was watching her sleep. Her breath caught and her mind slogged out of mostly-asleep to half-conscious panic. Who could it be? Why were they in her room? She tried to open her eyes but Morpheus’s hold was still too strong.

She felt the mattress dip. The person... the man sat down. The mattress shifted more as he lay down and moved closer.

“Good morning.” He caressed her shoulder and back. Severus Snape. Her beloved. Memories of the previous night crashed through her and she smiled, burrowing into her pillow.

He cuddled her close. Her sleep-heated back warmed his cool cheek. Without thinking, she nestled her bum into the angle of his hips. Their legs tangled together and she tried to get as close as possible.

“G’mrphrm,” she mumbled, still half asleep.

Just hard enough to make a point, Severus swatted her hip. The earring gave her a little twinge. Her eyes flew open, filled with pain, shock, and confusion. She wiggled to look up into his face with a demand for an explanation on her face.

“What was that?” Severus asked.

“Good morning,” she clarified, trying to enunciate.

He responded in the same tone, prompting, “Good morning, what?”

Confusion again, though it was chased by understanding and tinged with recognition and an adoring smile. “Good morning, Master. I love you.”

Approval warmed his eyes. He stroked her cheek in reward. “Good girl.”

Kiaya’s soft smile turned into a grin. Her voice was still quiet when she replied, “Woof.”

He tapped her nose and shifted her backward into position so he could press his cock along the valley of her ass. He chided, “Never a dog, Kiaya. I’m sure you remember what I call you.”

He sent shivers up her spine and a titillating ripple through her belly. She bit her lip as his mouth brushed the tender skin behind her ear. She couldn’t muster the word he wanted but instead only managed, “Mmmhmm.”

He bit her ear. Exquisite agony paralysed her limbs before he murmured, “What was that?”

Her voice was a breathy whisper full of adoration. “Yes, Master.”

“And?”

“I love you.”

“I know you do, but you didn’t answer me.”

She looked mutinous for a moment only before deciding that the small humiliation of the nickname wasn’t worth the discussion first thing in the morning when she was naked – and bordering on aroused. “Kitten.”

He sucked on the spot he bit. “Good girl,” he purred, “now meow for me, little kitten.”

Her body humming with desire, semi-good-natured defiance overruled her previous stance. She dared to defy him with a shake of her head. It wasn’t such a big dare, but she wanted to feel his teeth again.

“No?” he asked. One hand moved from her belly to pinch a nipple.

Kiaya moaned and twisted to offer him more.

Rolling her nipple between his fingers, he instructed again, “Meow for me.”

She arched her back, pressing her breast into his hand but kept her mouth stubbornly closed. Her wriggling ground her bum against his cock – and made him clench his jaw when she couldn’t see. Loving the feel of his arousal, she deliberately wiggled again; his cock slid up and down the valley of her ass.

“Woke up feisty, did we? Did you learn nothing in the last several days?” he asked.

She twisted to lie on her back and look up at him. Just offended enough to lend her response some cheek, she replied, “I learned that you’re possessive, you bite, you like your women on their knees in front of you, that you’ll do anything for Dumbledore - even taking a love potion with a woman you barely tolerate.” He grumbled at that but she continued, “I learned that you like large breasts and short leashes....”

He chuckled and leaned down to nip one of her nipples. She squeaked and her thighs parted but she continued speaking as she wound her arms around his neck. “I learned that I love you,” she said, tugging his lips to hers.

He allowed only a few nibbling kisses before breaking away and opening his moth to speak.

She interrupted in a whisper that barely reached his ears. “I learned how hard you get when I call you ‘Master’.” He growled his approval and toyed with her breasts. She felt herself growing slick. “And I learned that I really love making you come.”

Before she realized exactly what was happening, he’d flipped her on her belly again and raised her hips so her ass was high in the air. She gasped and automatically protested at being so exposed but her words turned into a moan when she felt him crowd behind her arse and lean over her back. She wiggled her arse when she felt his cock slide along the valley.

“Severus....”

He swatted her, leaving a red handprint on pale skin. Her ear stung where the Concubind punished her disobedience.

Gasping in pain and arousal, she flinched back into him, grinding her wet cunt against him. She corrected herself, “Master....”

Severus reached under her hip to find her clit and tapped it before moving to tangle in her pubic hair. He pressed a kiss to the centre of her back then drew his tongue up her spine. Mind muddled from not enough sleep and dizzying desire, Kiaya arched up to meet him. “Is there something you wanted?” he asked into the back of her neck.

She whimpered – her belly tingled and trembled.

“Well?” The word was like velvet being dragged over her skin. “You know the rule. Ask for what you want.” He dragged his cock over her cunt, spreading the slick heat coating her tender flesh.

“I need you,” she muttered into the pillow.

“That isn’t asking for what you want,” he taunted and nipped the back of her neck.

“Please....”

He kissed where he’d bitten and dragged his cock until it was cradled by her bum. “A good start.”

“Please make me come,” she tore out raggedly.

He ground his hips against her arse. His balls teased her swollen clit. “And what about me?”

Looking at him over her shoulder, she marvelled at his closeness and the miles of naked skin. Remembering when he’d last ravished her in the office, Kiaya wanted the satisfaction of knowing she caused his release as he’d caused so many of hers. Needing him to feel as wonderful as she did, she knew she’d beg for his satisfaction if she had to. Pressing back, she asked as coherently as possible, “Come with me, please.”

She couldn’t see the feral grin slashing across his face.

Moving away from her, Severus forced Kiaya’s knees closed then shifted his legs outsides of hers. Kiaya whined at the loss of his touch but gasped at the tight, swollen, delicious feeling of her pussy when he pressed her legs – and her labia together.

She was certainly less exposed this way, which was a small comfort to her inner cringing virgin, but her instinct – her only instinct now was to spread her legs for him. Severus pressed down between her shoulder blades, forcing her to drop awkwardly.

“Quiet.” Was all he said and locked her knees closed with his.

The delicious feeling increased a thousand times when he pressed against her again. His pubic hair tickled and titillated when it brushed and scraped and pressed against her. She didn’t flinch, though. The tickle was gone in a second when he pressed his thick shaft between her thighs, just at the apex. He moved higher, until her labia were trapped between his cock and her clit.

She was so slick with desire, he moved easily as he set a slow, rhythmic stroking in and out of her closed thighs. She moaned for his cock inside her throbbing cunt but knew that it couldn’t happen. He grasped her hips, controlling her movement and making her tremble with need. Desperate, Kiaya tried to angle her so that he would press harder on the swollen bundle of nerves trapped behind her labia. A stinging slap made her screech then moan for more. Her muscles tensed and she shuddered in exquisite rapture.

His voice was guttural when he fisted one hand in her hair, “Meow for me.”

She groaned in frustration and wiggled against him, lifting her head back so the tugging on her hair only stung slightly. He tugged again and stilled his hips. She growled. His answering growl was deep and only slightly terrifying. It made her stomach clench and her cunt gush.

He was the only one who could do that to her and she was desperate for him to do it more. Without thought, wanting for him only to make her come, she threw all pride aside and offered a small, “Meow.”

He rewarded her by moving again though he demanded, “Again. Louder.”

Responding like a cat in heat, pressing closer and trying to wiggle her hips so his cock would penetrate her, she yowled, “Meow!”

“Yes!” he panted. His thrusts were long and smooth between her thighs. Severus hummed in amusement and desire. He spread one big hand over her arse, toying with her labia. His thrusts lost their smooth rhythm. Sliding his thumb between her labia, he found her clit. As he petted her, he praised through shallow breaths, “Good girl. Now beg!”

Without hesitation, she obeyed. “Please!”

“Come for me!”

It took only moments of his skilful swirling, pressing, and gentle scraping when her breath broke and her back arched as her climax consumed her.

“Severus!” she cried out his name but he was far too gone to punish her for it.

The thick flow of her orgasm made his movements easier. The heat and moisture sent Severus to his own climax, coating her thighs.

Together, they fell to the bed though he checked his weight on his elbows before crushing her.

It seemed like hours of being blissfully squished, revelling in his warmth, his contentment and last night’s declaration of love – or something akin to it – that she wiggled her bum under his hips. Sleepily, she rubbed her legs against his and enjoyed the tickle that his hair and breath gave her. The words slipped between her lips on a sweet sigh, “I love you.”

Severus stayed silent but pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. Long minutes passed – and he was getting heavy. She shifted, seeking a better position.

Without lifting his forehead from her neck, he asked, “Yes?”

The very sound of his voice made her shiver. Trying to keep from getting aroused again, she wiggled in subtle reminder that she was there – and on the bottom. Her breathing was fine but his belly and hips were pressing her into the mattress oddly and she needed to use the toilet. She gently teased, “Geroff!”

In less time than a thought, the Concubind stung her ear and she flattened into the bed. Arms trapped, she couldn’t grab at the offending jewel. She could only hiss in pain.

When he spoke in her ear, she was reminded of a dangerous animal warning her of its pique. The stinging stopped when he spoke, “Are you hurt from me laying on you?”

She shook her head, still in shock from the pain that had stolen her lovely mood.

“Then I’ll move when I’m damned good and ready. Understand?”

She nodded silently, panting.

“There are more delicate – more proper ways to get what you want. You already know the easiest and best.”

Asking politely. Feeling like a dolt for ruining the mood and for not thinking of the obvious, she apologized. The earring felt cool and tingled, reflecting his silent praise. She took a deep breath, phrased it in her head, and tried once more. “Master, would you please move so that I may get up and use the toilet?”

“No.”

Kiaya blinked, not exactly sure that she’d heard properly. She repeated dumbly, “No?”

“Every action. Every movement. Every thing you are and do is mine. You swore it yesterday. If you want something, ask.”

He refused to budge from atop her and was getting even heavier – and using the toilet was becoming more of an imperative. “But...”

“Everything,” he sounded implacable.

Even in the early morning light, her face was ashen. The lace hearts and turtledoves of last night fizzled away in a poof. Everything. Even the toilet. God. She swallowed her pride and remembered his promise to protect her. He’d taken the love potion, too, directly from her own lips – that had to mean... something. Perhaps it meant everything.

Taking a deep breath, Kiaya mustered all of the lace hearts and pink rosebuds she could think of. She moved her head, so her cheek brushed his hand. She didn’t know if he meant to slide his finger over her cheek or not but she was comforted by his touch. He cared for her. He’d warned her a dozen times about their roles and she’d agreed anyway. She’d chosen this. She’d chosen him.

Looking up at him from under her lashes, in barely more than a whisper, she asked, “Master, may I please use the toilet?”

Severus stroked her cheeks again, in what she thought might be praise. In a quiet rumble he said, “Order breakfast first. Eggs, bacon, fruit, and juice.”

“Yes, Sir.” She tried not to sing his praises; her bladder was full and she was worried about embarrassing herself.

Though he was shifting off of her, he stopped and took her chin in his hand. “’Sir’ is any man worthy of respect – on my command or not. I am ‘Master’ in private. Elsewhere, you’ll address me as ‘Professor’.”

Trying to keep her stomach muscles tight so he couldn’t press on her bladder, she agreed and scooted off of the bed.

As soon as the floo powder made its first purple spark, Kiaya’s words slurred together as she yelled, “Kitchen! Two eggs the way Professor Snape likes them, bacon – extra crisp, two eggs – scrambled, fresh fruit and juice!” then she bolted for the washroom.

She thought she heard Snape snicker as she dashed by, but couldn’t be bothered to muster a pique until she was safely on the toilet, relieving herself. Exhaling in silent thanks for a quick and only slightly humiliating lesson learned, Kiaya pressed her hands to the tops of her thighs. They came away sticky. Kiaya stared in consternation.

Oh.

The door opened and Severus Snape sauntered into the bathroom – completely nude.

“Pro...Ma...ungfig!”

“Stop trying to swallow your tongue. You have no privacy. Get used to it.”

“I...I...” she hurriedly set her hands in her lap and averted her eyes.

He grumbled impatiently. “I’ve been married. You’re not the first woman I’ve shared a bathroom with and I’m well acquainted with the requirements of the human body. Finish and prepare a shower for me before breakfast gets here.”

She wiped, rose, and washed her hands in record time, swallowing her embarrassment but avoiding looking directly at him. As she stepped into the green marble shower, she thought to herself, ‘This is going to be the longest day of my life.’ Instead of speaking the thought aloud, she twisted the water on and waited.

“You start so you can help me. I’ll be right there,” he said. A second later, he had penis in hand and was urinating.

Even more mortified than before, Kiaya grabbed the shampoo and scrubbed her hair clean, noting that he used tea tree oil in the making of the stuff; she preferred lemon oil and rosemary. He’d be right there? He’d bathe with her? For God’s sake, why? Bugger it. She mentally threw up her hands. He was going to play pasha to the end. Hopefully he would... well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d found her pleasure in the shower. Kiaya looked forward to the delights of getting wet with Severus... erm... Master.

Hair and face were clean when he stepped into the shower. When she dared to look at him, she was struck by his fascinating face. Rubbing the soap over her breasts slowed as she examined his sharp, angular features. He wasn’t handsome – never that – but his face was strong. Like a warrior’s. His cheeks looked to have been carved from stone. His nose was bladelike and, perhaps has been broken at least once. His eyes were fathomless black... no... they were the darkest brown and not at all cold. He hadn’t yet shaved and his stubble gave him a rakish look that she found intensely attractive. She had his complete attention – it was a heady feeling. Her belly tingled.

Trying to be discreet, her gaze lowered. She’d seen his bare chest before, in their office a few days earlier. He was pale and thin and he had a smattering of fine black hair. There was no extra fat on him, but he was in no way gaunt. Her eyes skittered from the obvious and concentrated on what was above his waist. The muscles of his chest and stomach were well defined but not great slabs of meat like the men she’d seen in pictures in the long ago smuggled copy of Playwitch that she’d ogled with school friends.

His arms… Snape did much more than just waving a wand for exercise. Much, much more. She itched to run he hands over those arms. The black tattoo was hideous, but she was slowly getting used to the thing, even though it terrified her. To keep from staring, she thrust her face into the water. It didn’t help the tingle of arousal low in her belly. She only pulled back when she had to breathe again – and kept looking at him.

Misted water drops sparked in his hair, emphasising how very dark it was. She set the soap aside and stepped back so he could move into the water spray. Only the slightest hesitation checked her hand before she pressed it to his shoulder. Touch. It was her only thought.

Her fingertips slid into his hair and she momentarily abandoned flesh to play in the lovely stuff. He didn’t wince when she caught a tangle but she did. Murmuring her apologies, she reached for the shampoo again. Unmindful of the chill, she stepped out of the water’s fall so his hair could be drenched. A palmful of shampoo later, she has his hair lathered and was relishing the silken texture of it running through her fingers.

Letting the shower rinse the shampoo away, Kiaya’s eyes followed the rivulets of soap as they meandered down his back. Sliding over angles and planes, her eyes memorised his body from shoulder to hip, over his buttocks and down long, hairy legs. Small, cautious fingertips traced the path that the last bubbles had taken. His shoulders were tense and his arms crossed over his chest, but she touched. He was silent.

Fingertips turned bolder and her hands learned his back, testing muscles and bone. Arousal that had burned just minutes ago, simmered low in her belly. It was a comfortable feeling; one that she was well used to around this man. The liberties he allowed while she was forced to bathe him let her find comfort and familiarity in his body. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that this exercise was about just washing him. Kiaya figured out that much. He wanted her to learn him so she could be easy around him – and in doing so… well… she wasn’t sure if he intended it or not, to play.

She hadn’t actually dared herself to do it, but it was certainly with a heavy dash of recklessness that her hands slid lower to caress his buttocks. Kiaya thought that she heard him chuckle, but she was too enthralled with her own cheek to stop. Not satisfied with… rather, not quite cheeky enough to attempt to pinch him, she slid her hands over him, enjoying the firm curves. She did dare an audacious, full handed squeeze.

Severus’s response to that was to look over his shoulder, pick up the soap from the nook in the wall made just for it and to unceremoniously drop it over his shoulder onto her head. He cut off her yelping protest. “At least be a productive, little slave, while you’re ogling me.”

Without thought, and perhaps without care for her own health and welfare, she reacted. In retaliation, Kiaya stood up on her tiptoes, leaned in to his back and playfully sank her teeth into Severus’s shoulder. In the instant that her teeth closed around his shoulder, she realized the nature of her folly but didn’t pull away.

He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. Water splashed down his nose should have made him look comical but it only made him look like a panther stalking his prey through the rain. Mildly, which should have given her the impetus to run, he said, “Little savage.”

She squeaked, lifted her head and dropped from her toes.

“That hurt. You’ll give a kiss to make it better.”

Eyes wide, she lifted to her toes again, her lips in a moue to kiss the pink mark on his shoulder.

He growled and faster than she could stumble back, her hair was in his grasp. He dragged her to the side and pulled her close. He leaned down, his eyes intent on hers. He purred, “Not there.”

Kiaya’s eyes drifted closed and she revelled in the sweet pressure and tug on her hair. His lips brushed over hers.

Pain!

Her eyes opened and she squealed.

He bit her lower lip and ran his tongue over the tender flesh he captured. Through his teeth, he said, “Be careful. I like to bite, too.”

“Mmhmm!” she squeaked.

He released her and swatted her arse as he said in the same mild tone, “Back to washing – and use soap this time.”

Her glower was more of a pout and she rubbed her stinging bum with a sniffle that may or may not have been feigned. She snatched the soap and a flannel and raked both over his backside, drawing swathes of red on his skin. A twang of guilt echoed in her brain. He was an arse, but, really, she’d deserved to be bitten back... and it hadn’t been terrible. She lifted up on her tiptoes again and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder. She thought that he couldn’t hear over the water, but she whispered anyway, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, kitten. I like bites – as long as you’re prepared to be bitten back.”

She said nothing but bent down to wash his legs. As her head and shoulders were in the water spray and she warmed up again, she mused on his words. It was a thrilling thought. He did seem to bite her every time he… she couldn’t name it – every time they had an encounter. She loved the feeling of his teeth on her neck and shoulders and wanted more. She tucked the thought and the threat away for later as she finished washing his legs.

Already wobbling, she attempted to stand, holding on to his thigh for balance. Severus steadied her with a hand on her shoulder as he turned and said, “No, do the front, now.”

Water running into her eyes and nose, Kiaya blinked, gagged and dropped to her knees. The tile was marble. Her grunt of pain was rather shrieky.

He leaned over her, blocking the water, and pointed to the floor under her knees, “Paluhan.”

Immediately, the hard floor turned squashy. It still looked like marble and the water ran over it into the drain, but it felt like smooth, soft sand yielding under her knees.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Did you hear the spell?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Use it from now on, every time you kneel, unless I tell you not to – and yes, there will be times that I tell you not to,” he instructed before standing again.

She blinked water out of her eyes and murmured her thanks again before focusing on the site directly in front of her eyes.

Though she’d touched it, she’d never seen it before – well, other than a few moments before. In a thatch of black, wiry hair, it ... well, it certainly wasn’t hard and as thick as she’d felt earlier in the week, but it wasn’t as... limp as it had been when he’d walked into the bathroom. In all honesty, it looked rather like a large, pale earthworm.

“Lather your hands then grip it gently,” he instructed. She looked up at him with wide eyes then complied, wrapping the fingertips of both hands around his cock. “Just play with it for a minute as you wash – but be careful.”

The texture made for an interesting handful. As she stroked and fondled him, his cock got firmer. It seemed like a challenge to her – getting him as hard as possible with just her fingertips. She reached around to cup his balls.

“Careful, kitten. Those are valuable.”

She couldn’t think of a clever little rejoinder, though her brain screamed that she ought to have some kind of quip, so she smiled instead. Releasing them gently, she concentrated on his penis again. The end had drawn back to give her a glimpse of the smooth head of his penis. She lifted a finger to touch but he grabbed her wrist. He lifted it up and kissed her palm.

When her eyes met his, he said, “Sensitive. Very sensitive. Be careful or you’ll end up getting knocked on your arse.” She nodded and bit her lip. He released her hand. “For now, gently pull my foreskin back so you can wash everything – and rinse well.”

It felt strange. It wasn’t like anything else she’d ever touched before. He was firm and she wrapped her fingertips around him. The skin moved easily over it, like it was a covering of satin.

She was only allowed moment of exploration before he captured her wrist. “This isn’t play time. Now, just wash. I’m hungry.”

She looked up at him, ignoring the water splashing onto her face and her cold feet and legs. He handed her the soap without a word and she lathered her fingers and went right back to her exploration, though she tried to hide her mostly-virginal wonder. Pushing through hesitation, Kiaya washed everything in arm’s reach then pressed a kiss to his lower belly as she squeezed his bum.

He made a sound that was halfway between a snort and a snicker and said, “Legs and feet before I turn into a prune.”

“All the better to…” she thought better of finishing the quote and went back to tending him.

He grasped her chin and brought her gaze to his. “There’s time for that later. A great deal of time.”

Her cheeks flamed and she averted her eyes, wondering with half dread and half excitement, exactly what he meant.

Clean, he helped her up then reached out of the shower and snagged a bottle from the counter. He thrust her under the spray then tugged her out to lean on the wall. Without comment, he knocked her feet apart with his. A flick of the wrist had the bottle open and yellow goo pouring into his hand. Kiaya sniffed but couldn’t identify anything but lemon and beeswax.

“What…”

Eyebrow raised, he looked at her. “Do you really think that I would do anything to damage you?”

“No, but…”

“Do you or do you not trust me?” he asked while shifting to block the water spray.

“I do!” she protested.

“Then stop questioning me.” With that, he smeared the stuff over her mons, between her legs and even smoothed it between the cheeks of her bum. He left nothing untouched before pouring more out and rubbing it down her legs. As he stroked her, he said, “It’s a pity you washed yourself. Normally, I’ll wash you, unless we’re in a rush.”

She blinked at him.

He smiled wickedly, patted her bum, and said, “You can consider it part of your master’s playtime.”

She blinked again, enjoying as he stroked the mysterious cream all over her, though her curiosity was growing by the second.

Once finished, he waved his hand. Everywhere that the cream was covering her skin tingled. Kiaya jolted then slumped, allowing her inner self to roll its eyes. It was a depilatory – and if she’d used her head instead of her crotch, she’d have figured it out. Feeling stupid for doubting him, she apologized. “I’m sorry. Clearly, I need to work on trusting you. I know that you’re not going to hurt me.”

He directed the water to rinse the cream away. “I’ll likely hurt you. I try not to damage you though.”

Water poured into her gaping mouth; she choked. He turned the water off.

As though it was her fault and well might it have been, though she blamed him, Severus said, “Stop gaping like a codfish and get dried off.

She glared but spelled herself dry, avoiding the mirror and her newly bare skin. When she made to dash out of the bathroom to hide, Severus tutted. “Now me.” He interrupted the spell she had her mouth open to snap. Summoning a fluffy white towel, he handed it to her. “We’ll begin every morning in a similar manner. These are our last moments to enjoy the morning and each other with no interruptions before facing the monsters outside.”

She opened her mouth, but once again, he interrupted her, this time with a kiss. As a gag, it was most effective and her hands lifted to his chest, towel and all. He broke it off with a nip to her lower lip and said, “We’ll bathe again later. Now, I’m hungry.”

Befuddled, Kiaya dried him off, then watched him stride into the bedroom, admiring his back and bum. None of her things were in his rooms except the costume from last night. Resolving to borrow a robe so that she could go back to her own chambers, she followed him, clinging to the damp towel and was struck dumb at the sight of him drawing a pair of silky black trousers up his legs and hips. He wasn’t wearing underwear. A few strands of damp black hair swung in front of his eyes and he shook it back into place. Once again, the raw masculinity of him struck her. Her beloved was beyond sexy.

He caught her eyes and must have read her thoughts on her face. His slow smile was rakish and so very un-Snapelike. Of course, wanting to wash her hair hadn’t been very Snapelike, either. Kiaya came to the quick conclusion, standing there nude in his bedroom, watching him tug a black silk shirt on, that she now wasn’t very sure what “Snapelike” meant anymore.

He only buttoned the bottom few buttons. She swallowed back a groan of desire. He slid his wand up his sleeve and cocked his head toward the other room. “Breakfast.”

Breakfast? But.... “But I....”

“Yes?”

“I need something to wear.”

“Why?”

“Because...” She wasn’t cold. There wasn’t anyone there to see her, other than him. She didn’t have an answer for him, actually.

He smiled that knowing male smile again and pulled a length of black fabric from a drawer. It looked like a cravat. “You’ll wear this.”

Confusion must have replaced lust on her face because he beckoned her close. Taking her hand, he led her into the next room, to the now laden breakfast table. Without breaking stride, he tugged his wand from his sleeve, pointed it at the table and Banished all but one chair.

“Erm?’

“You won’t need a chair n this room, kitten, just like you won’t need clothes.”

She blinked at him. He dropped into the remaining chair at the head of the table and pointed to the floor next to him. His smile was wicked. Her belly fluttered.

Right then. Slave. She didn’t think that he needed to carry it quite that far, but if having her on her knees again was going to make him happy and make him smile like that again, she’d bloody well crawl for him. She settled on the floor, murmuring the spell from the shower. Her bum was on her heels and her knees were primly pressed together. Thinking that breakfast smelled divine and that she wished she had a head of Lady Godiva hair to cover herself, even a little, Kiaya hunched her shoulders forward.

“Kneel up here, like you were in church. We’ll do proper positions later but at the table, I want to be able to reach you.”

While Kiaya never had been a regular church-goer her grandparents had been so she’d done it before. She lifted up as he commanded, looking into his face for approval.

“Clasp your hands behind your back.”

She obeyed. Her posture straightened. Her shoulders were thrust back and her new, huge breasts foreword. The thought of being humiliated crossed her mind until she looked into Severus’s... Master’s face. His expression was admiring and his eyes were focused on her breasts. Though the room was comfortably warm, her nipples beaded

He brushed a finger over one and she arched back, offering him more. He slid his finger down the outside curve, making her shiver. “Good girl. Remember that pose. Now, though,” he lifted the cloth he still held, “this is how we’ll eat every meal – at least for awhile.”

He wrapped her cloth several times around her eyes. “I think you’ll spend much of the day – the next several days – blindfolded. I quite like the look of the black on your pretty pale skin.”

“Oh!” she gasped and held her breath. She was completely disoriented and felt utterly vulnerable in the nude, especially now that he’d removed her pubic hair. Panic raced through her thought she tried to quell it. Her other senses went on alert and she lost her balance so much that she leaned forward into him, seeking stability and familiarity. Her hands left her back to grab whatever she could reach – the arm of the chair and his thigh. When her breast met his arm, the panic subsided. Finally, she breathed again.

He dropped a warm hand onto her shoulder; she leaned into it. Murmuring nonsense words of reassurance, Severus let her get used to the sensation. The food smelled wonderful. She could smell the bacon and orange juice the most, but there was also the scents of the eggs and fruit – she remembered a basket on the table, and fresh bread. The carpet was well padded and stone floor below felt odd. Thankful for the spell he’d given her in the shower, Kiaya was glad that while the floor was cold, it was comfortably squishy. The wool rug was itchy on her shins and a little annoying. Kiaya struggled to remember what colour it was and then even tried to look to find out – and of course, couldn’t.

She could tell that the fireplace was to her left, not by memory, but because her skin was a little bit warmer on that side. Severus’s... no, Master’s body was also a delicious source of heat and she leaned even closer, even though she wasn’t cold. The muscles of his arm tensed under her grasping fingers.

“Hands behind your back, kitten.” The words were velvet raking over her brittle nerves. “Trust that I’m not going to let you fall over.”

His voice calmed her. She did trust him. She loved him. He wouldn’t hurt her, despite his teasing in the shower. No now. Not when he’d taken the potion, too. Dropping her hands, she struggled to keep her balance and then clasped them behind her. She straightened so that she was no longer leaned into him, hoping to make him proud.

Kiaya heard silverware clink on the dishes several times. She even heard him chew and swallow several bites of the meal and drinking something, reminding her that she was actually hungry. The crackle of the fire grew to a soft roar in her ears, though she knew that it couldn’t be any louder than usual. Seconds and minutes blended together as she listened to him eat and the sounds he made moving around. A shift of his foot, a slurp... she breathed deep... coffee, the rustle of his trousers on the fabric chair and his shirt as he fed himself.

Kiaya practiced patience. She forced herself to stay silent, having faith that he’d offer her breakfast when he wanted to. Surely this was just practice in being a good, patient slave, she tried convincing herself, even though her mouth watered.

Her stomach growled. Not the squeak of a kitten, but the full throated, savannah rumbling threat of a full-grown male lion. Her head dropped in abject humiliation.

“Is there something you need?” his tone was faintly mocking in its solicitousness.

“Yes, Master,” she replied, proud that she neither snapped nor rolled her eyes. There was love, but really, now, was he dense?

“While it is my prerogative to deny you, if there is something that you want, don’t you think that you ought to ask for it?”

Just like that morning. She felt stupid and gave herself a mental whack on the back of the head to aid in memory and allowing his lessons to sink in. She framed her words carefully.

“Master, may I please have breakfast?”

“Certainly.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Kiaya moved her hands from behind her back and reached for the blindfold.

Snape tutted. The Concubind tingled a warning.

She froze.

“What are you doing?”

“Erm... the wrong thing?”

“Indeed. Hands back where they were.”

“How...?”

He cleared his throat.

She clasped her hands behind her back.

“Thank you. What do you want?”

The answer was simple enough. “Breakfast.”

“You are blindfolded and your hands are behind your back and staying there. How can you possibly eat?”

“Erm...” Options scrolled through her mind. She could spell a fork – though it was generally a good idea to keep an eye on flying silverware. She could enchant the dishes to come closer so that she could eat like dog – which seemed like such a bad idea, especially after she’d just showered. He could feed her like an infant, which sounded laughable. It did seem to be the only logical option, though. Would he do it? It wouldn’t hurt to ... ask. Ask, as he’d been telling her to do. Kiaya hoped that she’d figure it out one day. “Master, erm, as odd as it sounds,” she turned her face to where she assumed his was, “would you please feed me breakfast?”

There was silence for a moment, then he asked, “Why?”

Because she was bloody well hungry for more than the precious bounty of his love (which was remarkably similar to his dislike but now they got to lay down when he made her come), she thought, but had the good sense not to say. Instead, glad that she couldn’t see his face, as much as she loved looking at him, she said in a rush, “Because you promised to take care of me and I can’t eat while I follow your orders.”

She quailed at her daring but was proud that she managed to say it without snapping out her first thought as she was normally wont to do or quivering in fear for his normal sour and insulting response.

He cupped her cheek, his fingers sliding into her hair. She leaned into his touch, seeking warmth and absolution for her temerity.

“That wasn’t hard, was it?”

She shook her head, amazed and grateful that he hadn’t cuffed her - though it was mostly to rub her cheek over his hand. Severus really did have the most perfect hands. Long fingers and soft skin except where calluses from holding his wand or stirring spoon and knife.

Something that was not his hand tapped her lips and the smell was overwhelming. Her mouth watered. Bacon.

Self conscious doubts filled her – despite the demand to be fed. Nipping at the bacon, she tried not to show her greed more than she already had. Though they’d eaten at the same time in the Great Hall hundreds of times, this was the first time – the only time – he’d fed her. She didn’t want to gnaw his fingers off in hunger and she was nervous about eating too much in front of him. Men didn’t like women to eat like she was going to get pudgy, she’d read in some magazine somewhere. Jasmine wasn’t overweight in the slightest and she knew Severus liked the other woman’s figure well enough to marry it ... erm, her.

Oh God, she scolded herself as she chewed a forkful of fluffy eggs that he shoved in her mouth, he’d seen her eat three meals per day for two years. He hadn’t commented, nor had she gotten fat. Now, though, she wanted him to think that she was beautiful – overblown breasts and all. She wanted to be beautiful for him, even though she could hear Edward Basilton in the back of her head, calling her a ninny. When Snape tweaked her breast, she hushed the old man and the idiot in her brain that was worried about being fat and concentrated on just feeling and the novelty of being fed.

She didn’t keep count of how many forkfuls he gave her or how often he brought the glass of juice or cup of tea to her lips. Instead, she relished each new scent and flavour. Several times, he quizzed her on what she was eating. Those silken demands stroked her nerves, gently instructing her to guess the taste. Despite her training in doing just that, it was surprisingly difficult since she couldn’t see and because he touched her every time he asked, she was utterly distracted.

Scents and flavours, the caress of his voice, the prickle of the rug and the niggling humiliation of being nude and kneeling while he was clothed and seated made her head spin. The meal had been amazing, sensual and so ... so... her head couldn’t find the word but her heart was pounding with the need to touch him... to taste him... to love him.

Time flew or crawled – she wasn’t sure of anything except that her stomach was satisfied and her thighs were slick with the need for her master. Kiaya didn’t even realize that she was swaying until she heard the fork clatter and felt his hands grip her shoulders.

“Easy, kitten,” he said and lifted her up, carried her a few feet and sat again, tugging her into his lap.

Overwhelmed, with her head spinning, Kiaya folded her legs and huddled close, touching as much of him as possible. Sudden fear crushed her. Frigid, except where she was in contact with him, she wiggled and twisted to be closer. She rubbed her breasts over his chest, hoping to entice him and to ease the ache. Rocking her hips, pleasure welled, tamping down the fear... but only a little. More. She needed more of him. His hands, his lips, his cock. She needed him to fuck her senseless, to drown out the thought of losing this moment. Her greatest terror wasn’t the sightlessness of the blindfold, but her love and desire for him.

The surge of need quashed all reason and she clung. Her mouth sought his, demanding that he complete his dominance of her mind. Seeking, she nipped and kissed her way up his neck and jaw to claim his lips and tongue. Each of her limbs felt like lead. Her hands shook as she clenched his shirt, her nails digging into his skin. She needed to be closer, she needed him to make her come again. She needed his calm, his protection, his warmth, his love. If she could have, she’d have climbed inside him.

He kissed her but didn’t match her intensity, not fulfilling her need, not soothing the tingling nerves that felt like they were racing through her body. She whimpered for more, grasping at him. Strong hands clasped her wrists and tugged them away from his body. His lips lifted from hers with a soft shushing sound and he tucked her head under his chin, trapping her body. Once her hands were manacled with his, he used one arm to wrap around her back, stilling her frantic wiggles. Once again, he gently shushed her.

“It’s normal,” he said as he brought her hands to his chest and grasped both in one hand so that he could stroke her shoulders and back with the other. “You’ll feel it several times today and that’s good.”

His voice and touch calmed her and she realized that she was comforted by the darkness of the scarf. The blindfold absorbed tears she didn’t realize that she’d been crying in her need. Sucking in a shuddering breath and sniffling, she nestled her face into his throat and complained in a soft, plaintive tone, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s the first steps of giving over to me.”

Confused and growing sleepy, her head feeling muddled by the surge of emotion, her head dropped to rest on her chest. “But I did that when I agreed to this, even before you started....”

“Yes?”

“Erm...”

He waited. His hand stilled in the hollow of her back.

“After I took the potion and you started ....”

“Say it.”

Sure it was an ostrich-in-the-sand feeling but Kiaya was grateful for the blindfold so he couldn’t really see her, she said, “Touching me....”

“Having my wicked way with you in the most inappropriate places?”

She couldn’t help but giggle and duck her head in assent. “And agreeing to the slave thing – I thought that was giving over. There’s more?”

She felt his chest jerk under her hands, as though he’d had one ‘ha’ of a laugh without making a sound.

“That was all just negotiations and fun. Now you’ve got to follow through.”

“How?”

“We’re doing it now. Every second since you woke up, added to the last several weeks, you’ve been training to be the perfect woman. It’ll continue until the game is done.”

She mused on that. “How is kneeling blindfolded while you feed me part of being the perfect woman?”

“You love me. You’ve learned to ask for what you want. You know you’ll only take food from my hands or when I give you permission to eat or use the toilet and you’ll only come when I let you. You’re giving me total control. It’s beautiful.”

“What else is there?” she murmured.

“Trust. Obedience. Beauty.” The words sounded offhanded. “Working on the last two will help the first as long as long you’re honest.”

“I’ve not been lying to you!” she said and sat up, offended and overwhelmingly hurt that the man she loved – who ostensibly loved her would have suggested it. If she had the use of her eyes, she’d have glared daggers.

“And if you were, I’d beat you soundly,” he promised. “What I mean is something different than you think. Honesty in your preferences and reactions as much as being open and honest with your emotions, telling me what you’re feeling – positive or not.”

She nodded and relaxed again.

“I can choose to ignore your preferences.”

She could hear the smirk in his words and replied, “You do that anyway.”

“It’s my prerogative.” She heard the rustle of his shirt as he shrugged, feeling his muscles bunch and release against her... and feeling her nipples harden at the movement against them.

She rolled her eyes behind the blindfold – besotted but quite cognizant of his character and the effects of his potion on her body.

He swatted her hip with a bit more force that was really needed, ignored her protest, and instead of pulling his hand away, gripped her hip hard, inciting a tiny moan after her gasp of pain.

“Floor.”

“Pardon?”

He enunciated, “Get on the floor.”

“But…”

He not-so-very-gently shoved her off of his lap. She landed in an inglorious heap with a decidedly unfeminine yelped “Ooof”.

“Really, slave, do I need to put you under the Imperious to do what I want?”

Her answer was petulant and hurt, “No.”

Kiaya felt the point of his toe press into her thigh and her ear tingled unpleasantly. It wasn’t a kick but it was a reminder. “No, Master.” Instantly, she felt his toes rub the spot he’d pressed on. She assumed it was slight praise for a late answer, but it made her suck in her pout.

“Now kneel.”

She scrambled into it, pressing both thighs together and lifted her bottom up, just as she’d eaten breakfast. Hearing the praise in his voice, when she moved quickly into position, she couldn’t help but smile, loving him and loving hearing that gorgeous voice of his.

“That’s good – and it’s how you’ll be eating when we eat alone in these rooms, however…”

Her heart dropped. She’d done something wrong.

“… all other times, you will have a specific position that I find pleasing.”

Kiaya was puzzled. She’d be kneeling on the floor more than just meals? Even that seemed excessive. She thought the whole kneeling thing was just for show, for his nasty friends at last night’s dinner, but she loved him enough to want to make him happy, even if it mean kneeling.

He was silent. She supposed that she should ask for some kind of instruction, though didn’t know there was an art to kneeling. It wasn’t stirring a potion, for goodness sake. “Erm, Master, how would you like me to kneel?”

“Spread your thighs as wide as you can.”

Wobbling, she did as instructed, feeling exposed, even though he’d seen everything between her legs before. The lack of a blonde veil of fluff between her legs was disconcerting.

“Now settle your arse on your feet.”

She tried but found that settling down was uncomfortable; she changed the angle of her knees and lowered, automatically closing them. Instantly, she felt his slight kick on her knee. Hating that she’d disappointed him, even the slightest, she quickly spread her legs. It felt ungainly and far too exposed, but it pleased him and that’s all she wanted. He kept his foot still on her thigh – suddenly, she found even that tiny bit of contact comforting in the dark of her blindfold. Unable to see behind her blindfold, she tilted her face down anyway, trying for a glimpse of his foot.

“Straighten your spine and square your shoulders.”

She obeyed, feeling very formal and a little silly, but made sure not to let it show on her face.

“Cross your hands behind your back and arch your back so your breasts are thrust forward.”

Again, she obeyed, now feeling very silly and more than a little embarrassed… until he purred… well, as much a jungle cat with his eyes intent on his next meal would purr. He was pleased! Thrusting her breasts out more, she tried to incite the sound again. He rubbed his foot over her knee once again and she imagined that she could feel him smile.

“Good, kitten. Remember that you’re displaying yourself to me; you’re offering your body to me in this position, showing me how you love me.”

She bit her lip, thinking that hugging and kissing would do that more effectively, but didn’t speak. If this is what love meant to her beloved, then so be it. She wouldn’t argue and she’d learn to love kneeling.

“You’re blindfolded now, but normally, I want to see your beautiful face when you kneel. Raise your face to me so I can look at my property and kiss you if I wish. Your eyes should be downcast in submission, though, until I give you permission to approach.”

“Permission to approach?”

“You do not have permission to approach or touch me when we are private or in these rooms until it’s been requested and given.”

“But....” She was hurt and more than a little bit insulted. She’d never needed permission like that before. He was treating her like a recalcitrant puppy! She wondered if she’d be tolerating this … crap … if she hadn’t taken that damned love potion. She rather thought not, helping Dumbledore or not.

“Do you want to be near me, beloved kitten?”

She knew he was manipulating her, but her love for him – artificially created or not – wouldn’t allow her to deny him. Damn him and his potion. Forced by her own emotions to tell the truth, she nodded.

“Say it.”

She yielded, after all, she was his ‘beloved kitten’. “Yes, Master.”

“All of it.”

Quietly, she said, “I want to be near you, Master. I want to touch you.”

“Such a good girl.” He paused, letting her wallow in his praise then continued. “Stand up and take four steps straight back.”

Ignoring her overstretched muscles and tingling feet, Kiaya rose, trying to appear graceful and stepped backward, trusting Snape... trusting Master enough to know he wouldn’t let her bang into anything.

“Kneel and greet your Master, kitten.”

Taking a deep breath, Kiaya focussed on her love for this man – this mean, cruel ... brilliant, occasionally tender man. Then she knelt, needing to show Snape - Master - how very much she loved him. Her body took over and she sank to the floor, wobbling only slightly. Her thighs spread wide, showing him the part of her that was now glistening and aching with need. Offering her lush breasts to him, her spine straightened then arched back slightly. Small callused and scarred hands moved back to clasp behind her hips and her chin lifted in his direction so he could see her face. She murmured, “I love you, Master.”

“Beautiful,” he praised. “Now continue. Crawl.”

She basked in his praise, even as she replayed his words in her head. “Cra....” She rethought the question. Master wouldn’t have said if he wasn’t serious – if it wouldn’t please him… and oh, how she wanted to please him. She asked the second question that came to mind. “How will I know when to stop?”

“Eventually, you won’t be blindfolded and will be able to see, but now, you need to learn where your body is in space to find your grace and beauty,” he said. “How many steps did you take backward?”

She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. “Four.”

“How wide were the steps you took?”

The question seemed impossible to answer, but she remembered an old exercise that Mr. Bastilton had liked putting his apprentices though – making potions in the dark. She’d done well with that, knowing the shop so very well. Of course, Snape – Master, had done the same thing. She wondered if he was relying on her remembering. Using her hands, she tried to work out how far it had seemed, even knowing she must look silly waving her arms back and forth. She hadn’t taken giant steps, though. Daring to look silly for his entertainment, Kiaya crawled forward what she thought was the correct space then leaned forward just a little bit more, fairly sure she’d bump his knee with her nose in 3..2..1. Success! Rubbing her cheek over the inside of his knee, she congratulated herself on the small triumph.

He chuckled. “Kneel again, girl.”

Kiaya resumed her position and lifted her face to him wearing a small smile of pride.

“Pretty, slave, but you didn’t ask permission to approach. Go back and do it again.”

“But....” Triumph evaporated.

“It wasn’t a request, slave.”

Frustrated that she had to ask and annoyed because he’d told her to crawl to him in the first place, Kiaya’s lips tightened and she started to stand up.

“Just stay on your knees.”

“Yes, Master,” she gritted out. She didn’t dare say a single other word but dropped again, turned and obeyed him, crawling back to where she’d been, paying close attention to how far she moved and how long her ‘strides’ were. Again, she knelt and took a deep breath. She loved him. She loved him. He needed this. Dumbledore needed this. She loved him.

“Master, may I approach?”

“Yes, slave.”

She crawled. She knelt. She waited.

“You didn’t say ‘please’.”

She blushed and huffed at herself. It seemed so very basic. She turned and crawled back without a word, kneeling again. It felt familiar now, that wide open, exposed position. She no longer worried about him seeing her bits. He’s seen and felt them all before and since he hadn’t told her to get dressed, seemed not to mind. She had other things to worry about now – like his quest for utter perfection in crawling and kneeling.

Again, she concentrated on her feelings for a moment. Irritation. Anger. A desire to please this rude, exasperating man. Love. Overwhelming love. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him.

“What are you waiting for?” He sounded annoyed.

Kiaya was honest in her reply. “I’m reminding myself that I love you.”

He was silent.

She waited.

“Continue.”

Reminding herself that he wasn’t being cruel, just exacting, she summoned every lace-curtain manner her mother tried to instil in her, Kiaya asked, “Master, may I please approach you?”

“Yes, you may.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“You’re welcome, kitten.”

She took another breath and repeated her mantra again, leaned forward to her hands and knees and crawled. Very clear now on where he was in the room, she felt confident enough to add a little sway to her hips as she moved. When she knelt, she tried to remember the lessons the Frenchwoman, Fleur Weasley had tried to teach the night before – confidence, ease, sensuality and above all, more wiggling and swaying, body parts shoved out a little further than was really needed.

Her thighs parted even more and she pushed her arse out onto her feet a little. As she moved her hands behind her back, she shimmied her breasts daringly and arched her back, offering them to him – after all, she knew he liked that part of her a great deal. Lifting her head, she pursed her lips slightly into “zee pretty little pout”.

“Very pretty, slave.”

“Thank you, Master.” She awaited his next criticism. When there was none, quiet pride bloomed in her belly.

“In formal greeting, you’re to ask, then lean forward from this position and kiss my feet then my hands.”

Absorbing what he said, she mentally played it out. Ask, kiss his feet which were usually booted to protect him from students’ dripping potio... gross.

“Master?”

“Yes?”

“Erm, I don’t want to be rude or to disobey you, but your boots are usually covered in....”

“I spell them clean after every class, slave, and soon you will be taking over cleaning them enough to suit your fastidious little lips.”

“I will? I will. Erm… soon?”

“I’m not wearing boots right now and have absolutely no need to put them on so you can practice cleaning them.” He sounded as strict as usual, but Kiaya thought she heard a tinge of humour in his black silk and brandy voice.

“I see,” she said in a tone that meant she didn’t but was working it out very quickly. Playing the scenario out in her head, Kiaya figured it out then shrugged. A Mystery it wasn’t. She didn’t think she could bollocks it up as much as kneeling. “Master, may I please kiss your feet and hands?”

“You may, but in the future, you may simply call it ‘worship’.”

Worship? Yes… she did. She took a deep breath. “Thank you. Master, may I please worship... you?”

“Yes.”

“Tergeo,” she said murmured to get into the habit of doing so, though she knew his bare feet were generally clean. She leaned forward, surprised that as she did that her arse lifted quite as high as it did, and bumped her head into his shins. “Sorry,” she muttered, and resolved to be more graceful when she could see. Deciding not to lose the small advantage she had now, of knowing exactly where his legs were, Kiaya pressed her cheek to his leg and slid down the silky leg of his trousers until she reached his feet.

Pressing soft kisses to the tops of each foot, Kiaya then dragged her cheek back up his leg, vainly seeking light as the fabric of his trousers tugged on her blindfold. She dared to move her hands from behind her back to find his hands, be they in his lap or crossed over his chest – she really had no idea how the man was really sitting. Shoulders protesting, she touched her fingertips to his calves, then drew them up over his knees and thighs, glad for the blindfold so she didn’t have to meet his eyes as she explored him. She aimed for his hips rather than his zipper and slid her hands up over his belly and chest, marvelling how slender yet muscular he was. Her fingers traced muscles that no one would ever guess were there over his shoulders and down his arms. Finally she captured his hands, resting on the armrests of all places. Lifting each hand, she drew them to her face, taking the opportunity to feel something she’d always wanted to but hadn’t known until this very second – his beautiful hands on her cheeks. She breathed in the scent of him and rubbed her cheeks over his palms, relishing the contact. This amazing man with his velvet voice, warrior’s face and artist’s hands, was hers. Hers – for a little while at least, he was hers.

His voice was soft in his gentle rebuke though he didn’t remove his hands from her face, “Little one, you didn’t ask to touch.”

“Master, I asked to worship you, yes?” Her smile was loving and a little mischievous behind his hands.

Severus rumbled his reply.

She kissed each of his palms then the knuckles on each of his hands, holding them near her mouth. “Master, in touching you, I’m worshipping your beautiful body and your wonderful, clever, talented hands.”

He released himself from her grasp and tugged her hair with a chuckle. The Concubind tingled a warning on her ear. “Clever little slave. That little bit of flattery keeps you from having to do it again – but do consider yourself warned, kitten, to ask to touch. Empty flattery will get you a sore bottom more often than not.”

“Master, I....”

He gently cuffed the side of her head in warning. “Now get me a cup of coffee.”

She pouted and started to stand. A strong hand on her shoulder stopped her movement and drove her downward as he tutted her.

Crawl. Right. Remembering where the table was, she turned and crawled in the general direction of where she though the table might be, wondering how the hell she was supposed to find it and pour coffee into a cup she didn’t know the location of. This was taking Mr Basilton’s darkness exercise too far, since she barely knew Sna-Master’s rooms.

“Two feet to the left.”

Oh. Directions! How helpful he was. She switched courses. At least she wouldn’t bang her SMACK.... head.

“Two feet would be twenty four inches, slave. One may want to slow down if given that warning.”

Kiaya rubbed her head and growled.

He snickered.

“Slow down and listen to the directions that I give you. You won’t get hurt that way. Now stand up.”

She obeyed and then clasped her hands in front of her hips, hating the blindfold and not thrilled with the man right now.

“On the table in front of you, at 2 o’clock, is the coffeepot. To the left of it is a coffee mug – no saucer. There is no sugar bowl or creamer.”

She found each easily and lifted the coffeepot.

“Check the cup, please. Make sure it has no chips or flaws that might hurt my tender lips.”

She blinked behind her blindfold. Kiaya had never seen a chipped dish in all of her years at Hogwarts, as a student or teacher. The house elves would iron their fingers before allowing a dish to harm a witch or wizard. Dutifully, she ran her finger over the rim of the cup, feeling nothing but ceramic.

“Your fingers aren’t delicate enough to feel the smallest nick. Use something more sensitive – the inside of your arm, your belly... your breast.”

She obeyed, bringing the lip of the mug to her bare belly and twisting it, hoping not to feel a chip on her tender flesh. It seemed just fine.

“There is a clean cloth at your 10:00, to wipe it clean.”

Kiaya nodded and wiped the mug fingerprint free. Feeling almost confident in her ability to pour hot liquids in the dark with an audience such a Sna – Master, she filled his cup easily, gauging how close the coffee was from the top but how close her finger the heat came, without spilling a drop.

Crawling while holding hot coffee... erm.... “Master, in order not to spill, may I please walk to you?”

“Yes. I’ll guide you if you need it.”

She murmured her thanks and walked back to him, unsure of exactly where she stopped, but thought it was about two feet away from him.

“Good girl. Now kneel – carefully”

Without a word, she knelt – carefully – and held the cup up to him.

“Kiss the lip of the cup, thank me for allowing you to serve me then offer it to me with some sweet words of love.”

Love. It felt... odd. It felt good. It wasn’t a strong enough word, but it was all she could muster. This was love to him. She loved him too much not to learn his needs. Hungry to please him and hating the thought of arguing or questioning, needing to show her adoration, she kissed the side of her cup and offered it up to him. “Master, I know I’m new to this, but I love you so much that I want to make you happy. Thank you for teaching me to please you and allowing me to serve you.”

He took he cup from her with murmured thanks. Kiaya heard the slurping sound of Master drinking his coffee and the click of the mug on the table next to his chair.

“Come up,” he said; his voice was quiet.

Gladly, she rested her hands in his lap, stood and settled into his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist and he tugged her closer. He kissed her temple before releasing her and nudging her hip.

“If you’re in my lap, I want you straddling me. Do it again.”

She cocked her head and giggled. This was a lesson she wouldn’t balk at repeating. She stood and moved closer, lifting one knee to find the chair next to him. Once balanced, she slid into his lap, pressing her breasts into his chest. His hand at her hips tugged her closer, drawing her nethers against his zipper.

Severus claimed her lips, his tongue thrusting between her lips. In less than a breath, she yielded to him, melting into his body, her mouth inviting, her tongue tangling with his. A moment after she started to respond, his mouth gentled into a soft seduction but his hands tightened almost brutally on her hips. She moaned into his mouth, a high, sweet sound of longing. Soft kisses eased his mouth away and he murmured against her lips.

“Such a good girl, learning so fast,” he said then captured her lips again.

A quiet whoosh and clatter pulled his lips away and Severus reached for his wand, tugging her to the side. Kiaya gasped and clung to him.

Almost immediately, she felt him relax under her. He rumbled into her hair, “Lunch. Are you hungry?”

Doing a quick check in with her body, realizing that doing so was much easier to do with the blindfold on, Kiaya tried to control the desire and realized that she was ravenous for more than just sex with her Master. She nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Down.”

She slid down and resumed the position she’d been in for much of the morning and felt him stand. She leaned on his leg until she felt his hand on her head, his fingers slid into her hair. Using her hair as a leash, he tugged gently, guiding her to the table and into her eating position.

Kiaya relished the next few hours though she realized she was also very tired with sore knees and thighs. They barely spoke as he fed her lunch then guided her to the bedroom for a nap. She remained nude and blindfolded on the floor as he rustled with his clothing. He removed his shirt but stayed in his trousers. Quiet prompting made Kiaya ask to enter his bed and again to cuddle. He assented and drew her back to his chest where they slept for well over an hour.

~*~

Exquisite ecstasy with a whisper of pain; she awoke to his mouth on her breast, teeth scraping the tender flesh. Confusion filled her as her eyes opened but she was still in the dark. Mind racing, she played back all that she could remember, even as Severus muddled her thoughts. Master. Blindfold. Oh, God, he felt so good, he made her feel so amazing. She couldn’t explain her feelings – she barely understood them, but she knew what she wanted. She arched up to him, seeking more. She wasn’t sure what more she needed, but more... please. She said it aloud, over and over again in a breathy whisper, “Please, more, please, please more.”

Fingers tightened on her other breast, rolling her nipple between them. Pinching harder than he’d ever done before, he hurt her, just as he swept his thumb over the ridged peak, sending a riot of sensation through her body. She knew it hurt, but, God, it was amazing and needed more of his exquisite pain and pleasure. His teeth clamped down as his tongue sent raw, dark pleasure clawing through her body. His body covered hers, muscled and sleek and made her feel utterly protected, even as her breasts were screaming in pain as much as rapture and her thighs were spread wide, exposing everything she was desperate to give him. The heat of his chest and tickle of hair on her belly and thighs was exquisite and she lifted her hips for more. Her tiny fingernails dug into his back, tugging him closer in the only aggression he’d allow from her.

Dragging his hot mouth from her breast, up to her neck, he latched onto her throat and growled. A helpless creature sacrificed to his lust, she pressed her head back into the pillow, offering her vulnerable throat in submission. He growled again, bit harder then attacked her mouth. One hand left her breast and she heard a clanking in the back of her mind but could focus only on the wet heat of his mouth, the feeling of his skilful hands on her breasts, his hard body above her, and the silk of his trousers on her bare legs.

PAIN! MORE!

Screaming into his mouth, Kiaya’s back flinched back into the mattress, her breasts in agony. The pressure - oh God, the pain - the pressure was going to kill her. He drank her cries and the blindfold soaked her sudden rush of tears. She barely noticed the cold metal he dropped between her breasts. One of his hands moved down to stroke her bare labia, so slick that he could slip his fingers between easily. One long finger touched her clitoris and she lifted her hips high, instinctively seeking more of his touch. The overwhelming pain in her breasts mixed with delicate bliss in every touch of his finger.

He murmured against her lips as his finger drive her to heady wildness. “Feel good?

She whimpered and writhed against him, nails scoring his shoulders.

“My kitten has claws... scratch all you want, little one, I like your claws.” He nipped her lip, tugging and sucking on it. “Do you want to come, kitten?”

She begged, “Yes, yes! Please, Master.” Ask for what you want. “Please let me come. Please make me come.”

Severus hummed his refusal and tugged the chain between the clamps. Her screech of agony was his response and his hum turned to a contented purr. “No, you may not come,” he said, withdrawing his hand, patting her mons. “You have another lesson, first.”

She whimpered and begged softly, “Please.”

“Lessons first.”

Kiaya panted out a groan. The pain in her breasts dulled from an inferno to merely agony. The feeling between her legs might kill her, though.

“You remember when you made me come with your hand. Do it again, but use your mouth, too.”

Passion muddled her mind, but she remembered it vividly. “How?”

“Kneel on the floor again, between my legs and figure it out. Just remember that everything down there is rather delicate.”

Kiaya groaned in frustration, whimpered in need and slowly moved to obey. Keeping in as much contact with him as possible, she slid down his body and between his legs after he’d positioned himself. Now what was she supposed to do? When she’d touched him last time, he’d been touching her, too. She’d just... rubbed him. Hesitantly, she lifted her hand to his thigh and moved tentative fingers to the shaft jutting toward her.

“Touch it.”

Feeling clumsily virginal and not a little bit stupid, Kiaya touched the curling, coarse hair and wished she could see… wished he was still touching her… wished he had allowed her orgasm before her lesson.

“Master, may I please remove the blindfold?” Her voice didn’t sound like hers. It was low, husky and not a little bit wanton. She bit her lip in surprise and concentrated on her throbbing clit.

“No, but you may ask to touch before you actually do. You know the words.”

She did. “May I worship, please?”

She felt his cock twitch near her fingers.

“Do you know why you would use that word?”

“Worship? Erm...”

“Stroke while you think.”

Unsure but wanting to please him and give him some of the same magical feelings he’d given her, she stroked her fingers over his cock, finding the veins and ridges and the sheath covering the head. Each touch was a delicate exploration and though she wanted nothing more than to please him, nervousness kept her from doing too much. “When you told me how to greet you, it was worshipping your body by kissing your feet… this is doing the same thing, right? In giving you pleasure?”

“Good girl, though, hopefully you can expand that answer soon. Hopefully you’ll find pleasure in this worship, too.”

She smiled, the faint flush that had stained her cheeks all day, deepened and heated her cheeks and stretched her hand wide to explore his sac. It was the strangest feeling, heavy and powerful, but still delicate. The tender skin was sprinkled with course hair. She cupped them, testing their weight and said, “I am very… pleased.”

Agony shot through her breasts as he flicked the chain between the clamps but between her legs, she felt herself get even wetter. Her clitoris swelled even more.

“Still pleased?”

“Yes, Master,” she panted through the pain and the distraction of her arousal.

“Then continue.”

Her fingers curled around his cock, the tips barely touching and she leaned forward to inhale the warm, musky scent. She wanted to look up at him and even tilted her face upward, though she wasn’t quite sure that she wanted to see his face if he was going to mock her lack of skill. Alternately, she blessed and cursed the blindfold, but didn’t ask to have it removed again.

She stroked up and down, trying to remember some of the Ten Hints to Pleasing Your Wizard that she’d read in Witch Weekly years ago. The only one she’d remembered was “To Make Him Love You Forever, Swallow.” Remembering the heady feeling she’d gotten when he’d found his pleasure in their office and bed, she leaned forward even more, whispering, “Master, please may I kiss you?”

His response sounded choked. “Yes.”

Kissing the crown of his shaft, she forced herself to relax and remember the banana demonstrations her room mates had given while in school. The low sigh she heard convinced her to continue. She swirled her tongue over him and drew back his foreskin more. Smooth, tender, with a hint of salt and musk. Passion, love, desire and more than a hint of lust. She traced the thick ridge and felt his figures bury themselves in her hair. She explored the length of him, finding the different textures of him with her tongue, relishing every curve and ridge, following the veins up and down as she learned. Feeling his fingers tighten in her hair, Kiaya instinctively kissed the head of his cock and licked away the pearl beaded on top. Slowly, enjoying the taste of him and the clenched fingers in her hair, she let herself play. A tiny voice in the back of her head purred that this might be better than licking ice cream. Hearing her own power in Severus’s moan, she teased him into her mouth. She sucked the head into her mouth with a soft pop and hummed her joy around the head of his cock. Severus’s small, convulsive thrust forced his cock deeper into her mouth. Sliding lower, she started a slow, gentle rhythm, bobbing her head over him and taking him as far back as she comfortably could.

“Faster,” he panted.

She smiled and obeyed, speeding up. She wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, moving it in time with her fingers. The rhythm was an aphrodisiac; she felt herself getting wetter and wetter as he throbbed in her mouth. Feeling saliva coating her chin and cheeks, she didn’t stop, thinking that he probably didn’t care of she was drooling. She didn’t even know if he was looking at her; she could only focus on the taste and texture of him.

His fingers tightened in her hair – it was the only warning she had before he pulled her head back and stood up. Kiaya couldn’t help but protest. Severus ignored her. He tilted her head back more and with his other hand, grasped her jaw, opening it the way he wished.

“Hold your tits up,” he growled.

She obeyed, lifting them high. The chain swung back and forth, the weight and clamps sending a delicious pain arcing through her body; her cunt dripped from the sensation. Though he said nothing, something thin and soft wrapped around her hands, wrists and breasts, keeping her from moving her hands away, then around her ribcage. Rope, she assumed, soft and supple, almost like silk. It felt awkward, but Kiaya didn’t mind; her mouth was busy on Master’s shaft and his hands in her hair kept her stable and still.

“Stick your tongue out.” His normally smooth voice was raspy with desire.

When she obeyed, he slowly thrust into her mouth, driving his cock to the back of her mouth. She gagged, panic and bile rising and tears filling her eyes. She choked on him and tried to pull away, but the hand in her hair tightened.

“Easy….” He tried to soothe her as he withdrew part way.

She gasped for air and tried to move her hands to push him away, the rope kept her hands still and cupping her breasts.

He loosened his fingers and rubbed her head. Calming, her panic eased and she breathed normally. Her tongue rubbed the underside of his cock and she sucked him in again, breathing in the scent of him as she took him as deep as possible. Desperately wanting to please him, she took a deep breath and tried to go further. When he pressed against the back of her throat, she instinctively stiffened but then stayed still as he withdrew for a moment and again pressed forward.

“Breath through your mouth and stick your tongue out more, kitten,” he murmured. She obeyed but started to gag again. “Swallow, kitten. That will help; then coat my cock with saliva and tilt your head back as far as you can.” His fingers still in her hair, he rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “Go slowly.”

Kiaya took a deep breath and sucked his shaft again, remembering to breathe and swallow at the appropriate times. It took several turns, but she took him all the way into her throat, burying her nose in the curling thatch of hair at the base. He moaned his approval and once again, his fingers curled in her hair. Each stroke became easier and Kiaya learned to breathe every time he withdrew. Her throat tightened every time, but she learned to control it, desperately wanting his pleasure. Saliva coated her cheeks, smearing over her chin and dripping down her throat, but she didn’t stop loving his cock – loving him - her Master.

Feeling his cock swell and his fingers twist in her hair, she sped up until he stopped her, holding her head tight against his groin, his cock buried in her throat.

“Going to come,” he choked out. One hand left her hair and trailed down her neck, shoulder and chest. He flicked the clamp off of her nipple.

Agony shot through her body, worse even, than when he put the clamps on. Gagged by his cock, she screamed, her fingers digging into her breasts and her nose grinding into his hair.

On a loud growl, his seed spurted down her throat and she gagged; her throat tightened in automatic response but he held her head still. It was only a second before he yanked her head back, off his cock, his semen coating her mouth. He dragged her close again, his cock pressed to her cheek and lips, holding her tight to his body as he groaned. She felt his seed spurting onto her cheek and lips for several moments, his hips pressing against her face. He panted his exhaustion and his fingers eased in her hair slightly. Kiaya was sure she was glowing with joy.

He rasped out, “Lick.”

Awed by her own power and revelling in her Master’s pleasure, Kiaya wanted to remove the blindfold, even tugging at her wrists to do so, caught as they were. She swallowed the rest of what was in her mouth, enjoying the mild, salty taste of his ecstasy. The pain in her breast faded, though the clamp and chain hanging from her other breast was even heavier. Wanting more of his cream, she opened her mouth and turned, her tongue sweeping at his cock.

“Gently,” he panted.

Slowly, carefully, she cleaned him, though her own cheeks were covered. Kiaya licked over his cock. When he flinched slightly when she swept over the head, she purred her apology. Taking him into her mouth, she held him as he softened, the flat of her tongue rubbing over his shaft. Her tongue slid over his balls and he moaned. Assuming it was pleasure, she lifted off of his cock and moved down, her tongue slowly moving over his sac, cleaning away her cooling saliva and his semen. Nuzzling the base of his shaft, her tongue slid down so she could suck carefully one of his testicles between her lips, then the other as he stroked her hair.

A soft pat at the back of her head had her settling more comfortably on the floor, leaning against his leg, her face tilted up to him, smiling, her nose and lips brushing his cock and balls, wishing so much that she could see his face. Overwhelming joy filled her heart.

Long, tender fingers stroked her cheeks, over her blindfold, and over her lips. She kissed each as they touched her lips.

“You can never know how utterly beautiful you are right now.”

She ducked her head and smiled her thanks, kissing his fingers, knowing that she blushed. Though her knees stung with carpet burn and her heavy breasts ached as much as her back from the extra weight of them, she felt wonderful. She felt utterly complete, deeply connected to him and comfortably, totally his property. He lifted her face up again.

“Your hair is mussed, your cheeks are flushed and coated with saliva and semen, your lips are red and swollen, you’re wrapped in black rope with bruised nipples, a clamp hanging from one, begging to be removed so you scream and come all over my cock… and yet you lean against me, relaxed and smiling at me in utter love.” His voice was warm and smooth. It wrapped her in black velvet and diamonds, making her feel like she was, indeed gorgeous rather than the mess she knew she must be.

“I love you, Master,” she whispered.

He brushed his thumb over her lower lip and murmured, “I know, kitten.”

**********

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Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire