Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Punish Me	By : Sparrowhawk Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 133350 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 45
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form and make no profit from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Assertion
- 2-Attack
- 3-Breakdown
- 4-Encounter
- 5-Punishment
- 6-Contact
- 7-Bitten
- 8-Scars
- 9-Play
- 10-Invitation
- 11-Abduction
- 12-Obedience
- 13-Tease
- 14-Learning
- 15-Venture
- 16-Protecting
- 17-Mistakes
- 18-Visit
- 19-Impromptu
- 20-Trigger
- 21-Healing
- 7
- 8
- 9
Woo hoo! Next chapter! Hope you all enjoy (;
Warnings for this chapter include: profanity, sadism (Severus, obviously), masochism (Harry, also quite obvious), D/s, whipping, self-blame, some playful spanking (very little bit), angst, and ... I think that's it. Let me know if I've missed anything (:
Chapter Eight
It was in a daze that Harry Potter exited the barrier that had been set up around the apothecary and said a reluctant goodbye to his former Potions professor, Severus Snape—a daze which he only broke out of when his godson and Andromeda Tonks called out to him from across the street of Diagon Alley. He hurried over, suddenly aware of the media clamoring to corner anyone with information concerning the attack, and thankfully being held at bay by the Aurors on duty. His Glamour was still in place, and he had added another over the bite mark Snape had left on his neck, but journalists, he had learned, were uncannily skilled at sniffing out the truth—even if they often added other details into it that had no basis in truth. He didn’t want anyone, besides those he thought necessary, knowing he had been in that shop during the attack.
“Godfather?” Teddy called anxiously as they quickly walked to the nearest apparition point.
Harry smiled down at the boy whose looks still mirrored his when he wasn’t under a Glamour. “I’m fine, Moonlet, don’t worry.” He looked back over his shoulder at the boy’s grandmother, “Did you get everything you needed, Annie?”
“Not everything, no, but it will do until I can come into town again,” the elderly witch replied with a smile. “Now let’s get home. I daresay you boys must be starving after that little adventure.”
Grinning, Harry pulled Teddy in against his side and apparated them both to Andromeda’s little abode. It was located a little outside London—far enough to be counted as outside city limits, but close enough that they could still reach a grocery outlet store in twenty minutes on foot. The house was, of course, warded against muggles and had a permanent illusion charm cast so any magic used within the grounds or house went completely unnoticed.
Once inside, Andromeda asked the one house elf she employed to make a small dinner for them while she put away the items she’d bought and helped Teddy put away his potion supplies. For his part, Harry let his Glamour drop—keeping the one covering the bite mark on his neck—and sat down in one of the comfy chairs beside Annie’s antique coffee table, thanking the house elf when she paused her work making dinner to bring him a hot cup of herbal tea with a dollop of honey in it—just how he liked it. Sighing, he leaned back, resting his feet up on the table in front of him and closing his eyes as he waited for Teddy and his grandmother to finish putting things away.
He was losing his touch. The months of not eating right and basically lazing around Grimmauld Place had left him out of practice with his wand and horribly slow when it came to defending himself. If it wasn’t for Snape, he didn’t know what might have happened to him. Or worse, what might have happened to Teddy. To be honest, he could care less about himself, but if that pervert had touched his godson … he didn’t think he’d be able to bear it.
Guilt surged anew within him. Perhaps he had been right to stay away from Teddy. The boy was fine with his grandmother. He had a good home, people who loved him, and all the safety he could ask for when Harry wasn’t around. There was no reason for him to be here. Nothing important enough to risk the boy’s safety, at any rate.
Frowning, Harry touched his neck and the bite mark the Potions master had left there. It didn’t hurt so much anymore, just throbbed from time to time. He wished it would hurt.
Without really paying attention to what he was doing, he pressed his fingers into the small wound, gasping a little at the sting that seemed to radiate deep into his neck and shoulder. An involuntary sigh left him, his fingers dancing over the bruise and shallow cuts from Snape’s teeth, pressing down now and then. Merlin, what would he have done if that escaped Death Eater had gotten his hands on Teddy? He’d seen the way the man had looked at his godson, the depraved hunger in his eyes. If given half a chance, Abbas Scott-Morris would have—gods, he didn’t even want to think it! It was too horrible.
Master, he thought pathetically, digging his fingers into the bite mark.
“Harry?”
Startled, Harry jumped up, jerking his hand back down away from his neck, his heart beating hard in the back of his throat. Surprise and guilt were quickly replaced by relief, though, when he saw Andromeda just barely rounding the corner. She couldn’t have seen what he had been doing. Discreetly checking that his Glamour was still in place over the wound, he moved toward her. “Dinner?” he asked with a falsely cheerful smile.
He winced. Fuck. The emotions on his face were starting to feel unnatural again. He was glad to be there with Andromeda and Teddy. He was. He was not going to ruin their night together with his depressed wallowing and guilty thoughts. They deserved better from him.
Andromeda’s eyebrows drew together, looking him up and down when she saw the wince before she gestured slowly behind her toward the dining room, her gaze shrewd. “Yes, dinner’s ready. Are you sure you’re all right, Harry?”
Pushing his guilty thoughts to the back of his mind, Harry fixed a smile on his face and took her outstretched hand, putting it into the crook of his elbow and leading her toward the dining room. “I’ll be all right. It’s just taking me a while to process what happened.”
Her eyes softened and she patted his arm sympathetically. “I understand. Just don’t dwell on it too much. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known you would be targeted.”
Couldn’t have known? Really? Stupid, of course I should have known. I’m always a target. Of course it’s my fault.
“It is not healthy to blame such things on yourself.”
Harry sat down at the dinner table across from his godson, barely noticing as the boy greeted him and he absently replied, preoccupied with the things Snape had said to him.
“Your parents’ death was the fault of a series of events that led to Voldemort choosing to kill them. Voldemort chose to order Pettigrew to kill Cedric Diggory and Pettigrew chose to follow that order.”
Abbas Scott-Morris chose to keep tabs on him. That wasn’t Harry’s fault. Abbas Scott-Morris also chose to try violating him. Also not his fault. But Harry hadn’t been prepared. He’d been weak. He’d let his reflexes grow rusty. He’d never taught Teddy how to defend himself, even though he was supposed to be the best of his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. If Abbas Scott-Morris had chosen to go after Teddy and hurt his godson, it would have been his fault … right?
Chewing on his lower lip, Harry clenched his hands into fists. No matter how he looked at it, if Teddy had been attacked and hurt it would have been his fault.
But he wasn’t attacked, a Snape-like voice reminded him.
But he could have been, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop it, Harry’s pessimistic side—the only side he seemed to have nowadays—retorted. I know Abbas Scott-Morris’ type from the little bit of Auror field work I did. I know exactly what he would have done to Teddy if Snape hadn’t intervened. If Snape hadn’t gotten there in time … dear Merlin, it would have destroyed Teddy. Fuck. Fuck! How in the hell am I supposed to not blame myself?
Andromeda dished food onto Harry’s plate, hushing her grandson when she noticed the faraway look in his godfather’s eyes and the pain that crossed his face. She hoped she hadn’t said anything that would push him back into the same funk he’d just come out of. He’d seemed to have been getting better.
“Nanna?”
“Yes, Teddy?”
“Is something wrong with Harry?”
Seeing the concern in the green eyes he’d copied off his godfather, Andromeda patted the boy’s hand. “He’s just a little troubled. The war left many people with emotional scars, and some with more than others. Your godfather, as you know, was at the heart of the war. He defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort. Sometimes it’s hard for him to separate himself from the past and the emotions it left in him. Give him time.”
“It’s been almost eleven years …”
Smiling sadly, Andromeda nodded and ruffled her grandson’s hair. “I know, but scars often take a long time to heal, and some scars don’t heal at all. Your godfather’s currently trying to heal some very deep scars. It’s going to take a lot of effort and a lot of time. Be patient.”
Sighing, resigned, Teddy fell quiet and returned to his meal.
Shaking her head, Andromeda continued eating. Harry truly was troubled. Anyone could see that—or should be able to, at any rate. With the progress he’d made—actually eating and gaining weight, taking care of himself physically, interacting with people outside Grimmauld Place—she wondered if he had started to see a therapist. If he had gone into a relapse of some sort, it might be best if she contacted whoever he was seeing for his issues so they could help him. Problem was she didn’t know who that might be.
She looked him over critically, seeking what she knew was probably a nonexistent clue. He wasn’t nearly as pale as the last time she’d seen him, nor did he have those dark bruises under his eyes she was accustomed to seeing there. He had confessed to her the Dreamless Sleep Potion no longer worked for him, so it was likely he’d either found a substitute on his own or else he’d seen a Potions master to find one for him. Since she knew he possessed very little knowledge of potions, she doubted it was the first, and the only Potions master she knew of that he also knew would be Severus Snape. So he’d seen Severus. But the man wasn’t a therapist …
But he was there when Harry was attacked, and Harry seemed quite … flustered when they came out of the apothecary together.
Her eyes narrowed. Severus was a Dom. She’d heard that from her sister, Narcissa, who had contacted her soon after the war ended when she’d needed a shoulder to cry on after her daughter’s and son-in-law’s deaths. They’d patched up their relationship and went out at least twice a month, and from her she’d learned of Lucius’ and Severus’ relationship, but she’d also heard they were both severely sadistic and dominating and, therefore, could not be content with only the two of them. They needed a third partner—a submissive partner.
Returning her attention to her meal, Andromeda brought her glass to her lips, looking over at Harry sidelong as if that might give her a better perspective on the things he would probably rather keep private as she sipped at the fruity beverage. She was not nosey by any means, but when it concerned the relationship between her grandson and his godfather she couldn’t let matters lie, not when it was making Teddy worry so.
“Nanna, may I be excused? I want to practice flying for a while, if that’s okay.”
Andromeda smiled at her grandson. “Of course, love. Just be careful not to stray outside the boundaries I’ve set, all right?”
He got up, and then hesitated, uncertain green eyes flicking to his immobile godfather. “Erm …”
“I’ll send him out after I’ve talked with him. There are a few matters your godfather and I need to discuss.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, Teddy, go play.”
Smiling shyly back at her, Teddy nodded. “Kay.” Then, with an enthusiastic wave, he dashed out of the dining room to grab his broom. A few minutes later she heard the back door slam.
“Harry,” she said, turning to the young man and grasping his hand tightly. He jerked as of coming out of a trance and then looked up at her questioningly. “Are you seeing a therapist or mind healer of any kind?”
Frowning, Harry shook his head, wondering where that question had come from. “I’m not. Why?”
“But you have been to see Severus, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am, for a potion to help me sleep.”
“And you’re not seeing a mind healer or therapist at all?”
Confused by the repeat, Harry again shook his head. “No, Annie, I’m not. Why are you asking?”
“Harry, are you in a relationship with Severus?”
At that, the dark-haired wizard jerked. “Snape? No! I’ve only been to see him onc—twice,” he corrected himself, flushing and panicking slightly at the thought of her discovering what he was doing and hating him for it.
She gave him a shrewd, narrow-eyed look, which he fidgeted under, and then smiled. “Harry, you know I won’t judge you for your choice in partner. I supported you when I found out you were bisexual, didn’t I? What makes you think I’d support you any less if you chose to partner with someone like Severus?”
Hearing that, some of the tension in Harry’s shoulders dissipated and he smiled tentatively back at her. “I’m really not in a relationship with him, though, Annie. He’s offered, but I haven’t said yes yet.”
“Yet?” she inquired slyly. The blush in his cheeks darkening somewhat, he shrugged, neither denying nor confirming what she was implying. “Do you want a relationship with him?”
“I … well, I don’t really know. It’s complicated.”
“Is it?”
“Yes! He’s … well, he’s Severus Snape, fifty percent genius, fifty percent git!”
“And he’s a Dom and a sadist,” Andromeda added knowingly. She smirked at Harry’s astounded expression and shrugged daintily. “You do realize my sister is Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy’s wife, the Lucius Malfoy who is also a Dom and sadist and partner to said Severus Snape?”
Still looking as if his eyes would pop out of his skull at any moment, Harry swallowed and managed to stutter out questioningly, “S-So then … you’re not … you’re okay with … er … it?”
“Harry, of course I’m okay with it! Being a submissive or masochist or slave or whatever role you take is nothing to be ashamed of! I have rarely, if ever seen a relationship as strong as some of those between Doms and their subs, because that relationship requires such a deep level of trust and communication.”
“R-Really?” Harry looked up hopefully at the woman who had become as close to a constant in his life as he’d ever had. She and Mrs. Weasley were like the kind, fun, always-on-your-side aunts he’d never had, but always wanted.
Andromeda smiled gently at the insecure young man and patted his hand. “Really. At any rate, Severus is a good man. He’s seen and experienced both the dark and light side of life, he’s kind—if not gentle—and I believe he can give you what you need.”
“What I need?” Harry repeated, brows furrowing.
“Stability and direction, as well as the security of mind that will help you accept yourself for who you are. He will not pander to you as others might, nor will he coddle you or parade you about to show you off like some kind of vanity prize. He won’t lie to you, and when you do something wrong, he won’t hesitate to punish you. He will hurt you, if you let him, and he will expect complete submission and trust from you, but let me ask you this: isn’t that exactly what you want, to give up control, to simply be and let someone else take up the reins? When was the last time you were able to just be yourself without thinking about what others want or expect from you? Severus can provide that.”
“I-I don’t know, Annie. I … I mean I—”
Smiling sympathetically, Andromeda patted his hand once more and then stood. “Just think about it, okay?”
He nodded, then looked up timidly as she started to turn away. “Annie, about earlier today, with Teddy … I-I-I’m sorry.”
She folded her arms as she rounded on him, her face indignant. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry.”
“Yes, I do! Teddy could have been seriously hurt! I should’ve been paying more attention, instead I was …” He trailed off, blushing fiercely, but continued on in the same guilty tone, “I was distracted. If that man had gone after Teddy … if he saw him first rather than coming after me …” His voice faded, eyes filled to the brim with guilt so heavy and stifling his bright green eyes seemed to become just a little bit dimmer.
“You couldn’t have predicted what that awful man tried to do to you, Harry,” Andromeda tried to soothe the distraught young man, but realized immediately that her words were falling on deaf ears. His hands had come up to tangle in his hair and while they tugged, his head bowed forward in the utmost shame. She wasn’t sure exactly what thoughts were going on behind Harry’s eyes or how his mind had twisted what had happened to make it his fault, but however it had happened, she knew that guilt would not leave him easily. He had, quite literally, been programmed by the manipulations of Dumbledore and the rest of the wizarding world to take upon himself the responsibility of every single wrong people around him committed, however obvious it should be he was not at fault.
She was just beginning to fret about what she should do to bring him out of his melancholy when she felt her wards admit a familiar magical signature. Relieved, she stood as the door to the dining room swung open, revealing the intimidating figure of Severus Snape.
“Forgive me for the intrusion, Andromeda,” Severus apologized, though it was apparent by the distance in his tone that his attention was not on her at all.
Andromeda laughed and moved around the table to squeeze the man’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “You’re late.”
“Is it bad?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the slumped figure sitting at her table, making it clear as to what he was referring to.
“Not yet, but it would have been had you come any later.”
Severus nodded soberly as he felt her hand leave his shoulder. “Keep his godson occupied for an hour or two. Which room does Harry use?”
“Upstairs, third on the left,” Andromeda answered.
“Thank you.”
Smiling, the eldest Black daughter left the room with a not-so-innocent, “Take your time.”
Once the door had closed, Severus removed his cloak and draped it over the back of the chair nearest him, gazing at his young charge and the barely touched plate of food before him disapprovingly. He slid his hand gently over the back of Harry’s neck and, when he received no reaction, clamped his fingertips down hard into the youth’s skin.
The former Gryffindor jumped at the slight pain, a shiver of mixed fear and desire sliding down his spine when he saw Snape standing behind him. Underneath the first two emotions strummed a third, far stronger emotion that had him exhaling loudly—relief.
When he spoke, Severus’ voice was low and dangerous, “I thought I made it clear you were to take care of yourself, Mr. Potter. Why, then, are you not eating?”
Swallowing heavily, Harry looked down at the full plate before him, at the foods he had pushed around on his plate, mixing them irreversibly. His stomach rumbled in hunger, but he wasn’t interested in eating. He didn’t want food.
“Eat, Mr. Potter,” Severus ordered shortly, sitting to one side of the other man. “We can discuss what happened at the apothecary when you’re done.”
Harry stared at the food a moment more before resolutely raising his hands and pushing the plate away. “Not hungry,” he muttered.
Severus sat back and crossed his arms, unsurprised by the rebellion. He had seen it many times before in other subs. Harry wanted punishment. It was one way submissives tried to manipulate their Dominants and, in many instances, they succeeded. But not with Severus. Not this time. Harry would have to learn he was not the type of Dom to allow that kind of behavior. If he wanted to be punished, he would learn to ask by word of mouth, not by disobeying.
It was a long five minutes of complete silence before Harry realized the Potions master wasn’t going to say or do anything in response to his declaration. So he stood, watching the other man for a sign that he was going to stop him, force him to obey. But again, the man did nothing.
Damn it all, the bastard wasn’t even looking at him!
Frustrated, Harry pushed his chair away and stomped over to the door that led to the hall and up the stairs to his room. “I’m not eating,” he stated, turning the handle slowly so as to give the older wizard a chance to stop him and force him to do as ordered. “I’m not hungry … and you can’t make me eat.” Again he paused, and frowned when Snape still said nothing, still remained unmoving at the table. He lowered his head, expression dark. “I’m going upstairs.”
“Harry.”
Eyes lifting expectantly, Harry half turned to face the other man, suddenly hopeful. “Yeah?”
“Remember your rules. You are not to hurt yourself.”
Swallowing again, though this time from disappointment, Harry jerked the door open and slammed it shut, running full pelt up the stairs and then doing the same with the door to his room.
What the hell was that?! Why wasn’t Snape punishing him? Didn’t he say he would? Fucking liar!
Fuming, Harry plopped himself down on his bed and balled his hands into fists in frustration. “Liar,” he hissed, fingertips digging into his palms. “Bastard thinks I won’t realize when I’m being lied to? He doesn’t care. No one does. Why should I obey him? I should hurt myself, punish myself. It’d serve him right.”
He sulked and fumed in equal measure for several long minutes as he worried at the bite mark on his neck. He ground his teeth, the sting not helping in the least when he knew the Potions master was sitting just downstairs and doing absolutely nothing to help him. Downstairs, alone, after Harry had spoken to him like a two-year-old and then stomped off. His frown became more pronounced as his anger faded into guilt.
His voice was considerably softer when he net spoke. “It’d serve me right if I did punish myself. I put Teddy in danger. I made Snape have to come and save me … again. He must have better things to do than look after me. He even came here to check up on me and I … I disobeyed him. He really should punish me. Shit!” he cursed, raking a rough hand back through his hair, yanking at it viciously. “Shit, shit, shit! I’m such a fucking idiot! Snape’s probably really angry with me now; that’s why he’s not doing anything. What the bloody hell is wrong with me, baiting him like that?! What if he left?” His eyes widened at that terrifying, near paralyzing thought and he raised his head, staring in horror at his bedroom door. “What if he left?”
Dear Merlin, what had he done? The only one to offer to help him in such a way, the only one who actually understood what he needed, and he went and ruined it! Why was he always fucking things up so badly? What would he do if the man really did leave? He didn’t know why Snape had even stuck around as long as he had. Harry knew he was fucked up—fucked up bad. But Snape … Snape had given him a chance. He’d listened to him, punished him, comforted and soothed him, protected him and, like the ungrateful freak that he was, Harry went and threw it all back in his face. Of course Snape would leave. He couldn’t expect him to stay after that.
Lower lip trembling, Harry reached up with a shaky hand and swiped at the tears forming in his eyes. Why had he disobeyed? Why, when he needed what Snape could give him, had he antagonized the man that way? It was just so stupid!
Wiping at his eyes again, he stood, exited his room, and walked down the stairs and through the hall to the dining room door. His hand trembled when he reached for the handle, and hesitated. He had to be gone now. He had to be. If someone had talked to Harry like that when he was only trying to help them and then stormed out of the room, Harry would have left, too. So then, why was he even coming down here?
Admittedly, Harry couldn’t answer that; he was just doing it. If nothing else, he could eat the meal he should have eaten without being told. Snape wouldn’t be there anymore, but if he ate it then maybe … maybe that’d somehow make up for his earlier disobedience.
Sniffling, Harry turned the handle and pushed the door open, entering the room with his head down, fringe covering his eyes, afraid to look, afraid to see the emptiness that would greet him.
“Are you ready to eat now, pet?”
Startled by that silky, too calm voice, Harry’s head shot up, nearly giving him whiplash. “Y-You’re … still here.”
Severus smirked inwardly, able to more than guess what it was Harry had been thinking when he came back down. He pulled out the seat the younger man had vacated not fifteen minutes ago and nodded toward it. “Sit.”
Harry hurried to do as he was instructed lest the man change his mind and decide to leave after all. This time there was no hesitation as he picked up his fork and started eating, shoveling the food into his mouth even as he grimaced in distaste for the mixed flavors and cold fare.
Severus smiled gently at Harry’s compliance and leaned over to run his fingers through that dark hair and down the back of the young man’s neck. “Very good, pet. You did well.”
Hearing that, Harry slowed, giving the older wizard a confused look. Did well? Did well in what? He had disobeyed. He’d been disrespectful, even downright rude! What did the man mean he did well?
“You didn’t hurt yourself,” the Potions master clarified. “Even though you were angered by my refusal to react to your provocation, you didn’t take punishment upon yourself. You also came back down. Despite fearing that I may have left, you returned in the hope that I had not, even knowing I would likely be angry if I hadn’t gone. That pleases me greatly.”
“Master …” Harry breathed, the hurt in his chest retreating. He hastily set his fork back on the table when his shaking fingers threatened to drop it and seized Snape’s hand in both of his, breathing heavily as he brought it to his forehead, pressing against it in desperate relief while he fought back rising tears. “I’m sorry. I … I know I was bad; I shouldn’t have disobeyed. I know I’m supposed to eat, but I didn’t and I’m … I’m really sorry. Please don’t leave.”
“Hush, pet,” Severus murmured soothingly, pulling the younger wizard into his chest and wrapping him up in his arms. “You’re forgiven, and I’m not leaving. I never had even the slightest intention of leaving you.” Seizing a handful of Harry’s hair, the Dom yanked his head back until tearful green eyes peered fretfully up at him as he quietly warned him, “I will not leave you for disobeying me, Harry, but I will not be deliberately disobeyed when you want to be punished, either. If you want me to punish you, all you need to do is ask for it. Is that understood?”
“Y-Yes, Master.”
“Good. Finish eating.”
“Do I have to?”
“It’s part of your punishment.”
Face falling, Harry nodded resignedly, bravely picked up his fork, and started eating the goop once more. It wasn’t all that bad, but he knew it would have tasted better if it wasn’t mixed and if it was still warm. When he had finished everything on his plate, he set his fork down again, took a drink of his water, and then looked over at his Master for approval. Saying nothing, the older man stood, offering a comparatively large hand to him. Interpreting that as sign that he had done well, Harry took it.
Severus led the young man up the stairs to the guest room Andromeda had told him was Harry’s and gestured to the bed. “Sit over there.”
Feeling jittery, Harry did, folding his hands in his lap and lifting his head to look at the Potions master expectantly. But Snape said nothing, merely stood in front of him, gazing back at him calmly with his arms crossed.
After a few minutes of silence, Harry began to fidget, wondering why Snape wasn’t doing anything. Why was he just standing there?
“Master …?” he finally managed to get out in a small voice, “did I do something wrong?”
“You haven’t done anything wrong; you’re simply forgetting something.”
Forgetting something? Harry bit his lip. What did he forget? He hadn’t been told to do anything yet … had he?
“If you want me to punish you, all you have to do is ask.”
“O-Oh!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “I, er …” He paused, embarrassed when he didn't know how to continue.
Severus raised an eyebrow. “I am assuming you now remember what I told you?”
Flushing, Harry ducked his head. “Yes, Master, I remember.”
Nodding, Severus took a step forward and pointed at the bed. “Get on your knees on the bed, facing me. I’ll teach you the proper way to ask for punishment.”
Harry blinked, a bit confused, but dropped back onto the bed anyway and folded his legs underneath him.
“Keep your eyes down. Bow your head and clasp one hand over the other wrist behind your back—yes, just like that,” he praised as Harry reached behind him and wrapped his right hand around his left wrist. “Now spread your legs.”
Harry felt himself flush down to his toes. He raised his eyes and lowered them again just as quickly. “Spread—do I h-have to?”
“If you would rather not at this point, I won’t force you since we are not in a formal relationship. However, know that if you decide you do want this kind of relationship, I will require you to use this position—all of it—when you want to be punished or when you know you deserve punishment. It is a position that is meant to make you feel vulnerable, trusting and exposing everything to your Dom.”
Chewing his bottom lip nervously, Harry slowly slid his knees out to the sides, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and taking a steadying breath before opening them again, meeting his Master’s pleased gaze, then dropping them back to the duvet.
Severus’ lips curved into an approving smile. Harry had no idea what a large step he had just taken toward accepting his place as a submissive. It was beautiful and exhilarating to witness.
“N-Now what?” the former Gryffindor questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Now,” Severus answered slowly, letting the tension build between himself and the dark-haired beauty kneeling so obediently on the bed, “you ask for what you want.”
With a loud gulp, Harry wetted his lips, took a deep breath and requested as quickly as he could, only stumbling over the words once, “P-Punishmepleasemaster.”
Chuckling deeply, Severus took another step toward the bed, but stopped again before reaching it. “Do you know what kind of punishment you would like from me, pet?” Tomato red, the other man shook his head violently back and forth. It wasn’t as if he had introduced him to many punishments as of yet, Severus thought, so he had very little to choose from. Well, he would remedy that soon enough. “If you don’t know how you would like to be punished, that’s fine, but I want to hear it clearly. Take a deep breath and say it again, slower this time.”
Sweat broke out on Harry’s forehead as the heat under his skin seemed to intensify two-fold and he licked his lips again, finding them dry with anxiety. He felt so vulnerable. And again, Snape was just standing there, though this time he was staring at him, his gaze so intense, so focused it made a tremor of want pass through Harry’s body, tightening things low down and blowing his pupils wide. He had to swallow twice—each embarrassingly loud, even louder than the pounding in his ears—before he was able to get his voice to come out. “Pun-Punish me … please, M-Master.”
“Is there something specific you need to be punished for, pet?”
“I … I put Teddy in danger.”
“How so? By taking him to the apothecary? Are you going to refuse to take him anywhere now because it might be dangerous?” Severus challenged.
“No, but … I should have been more careful!”
“How? How could you have been more careful? What did you do that was so wrong?”
“I … well I-I don’t know! I couldn’t get to my wand a-and … my reflexes have dulled. I haven’t taught Teddy how to defend himself. Remus would have taught him!”
“You are not Remus Lupin, though, are you?”
“No, but I’m his godfather! If that bastard had chosen to go after Teddy instead of me, I don’t think I would have been able to—”
“But he didn’t,” Severus interrupted sharply. “He went after you. Teddy is safe. He’s happily playing outside with his grandmother. Abbas Scott-Morris is dead. You are here. Teddy is here. Everyone is safe and the man who attacked you can never do so again. Perhaps you should have kept up on your Defense exercises, perhaps you shouldn’t have let your reflexes become so dull, perhaps you should have given your godson a few lessons in self-defense, but you didn’t. Should haves and shouldn’t haves do not fix anything, Harry. They are in the past and can only stand now as lessons to be learned. I will not punish you for such things. However—”
“You won’t … punish me?” Harry interrupted, his panicked mind only picking up on the last bit of the older wizard's speech.
“However,” Severus repeated emphatically, “I will aid you in recovering your former prowess in defensive magic and honing your reflexes. Then, when you have improved sufficiently, it will be up to you whether or not to pass on what you learn to your godson.” He paused, letting that sink in, then continued in a gentler tone, “Do you still feel you need to be punished?”
“You mean …?”
Severus smiled, the wickedness in the expression sending a cold shiver down Harry’s spine and a curl of opposing heat into his groin. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t punish you. I only wanted to know what you thought you needed to be punished for. Since you have failed to identify what you did wrong, I will point it out for you. You broke one of the rules I gave you.”
Harry’s brows drew together, uncomprehending. “I did?”
“What is your second rule, pet?”
Frown deepening, still confused, Harry responded quietly, “That I-I’m not to hurt myself. That you’re to be the only one to punish and hurt me. That if I feel the need to be hurt I’m to come to you immediately. That I’m not to seek to punish myself or seek punishment from anyone else.”
“Which means what? What part of that rule did you break?”
Still confused, Harry thought back over the rule, repeating it to himself under his breath. How had he broken that rule? He hadn’t hurt himself. Snape had praised him for that. He hadn’t sought out punishment from anyone else. So … what?
“Recite it for me again,” Severus ordered when it was apparent the younger wizard hadn’t gotten it yet.
“That I’m not to hurt myself … that you’re to be the only one to—“ He broke off, eyes widening in comprehension. That was why. The rule didn’t just cover punishment. It meant he wasn’t to allow himself to be hurt—in any capacity—by someone else. Abbas Scott-Morris had punched and bit him.
He sighed in relief. He would still be getting punished. Not for what he thought, but even so, the pain would be there.
“Then … please punish me, Master. I … I want to be punished.”
“I know, pet,” Severus replied solemnly. “I knew you would want punishment before I left you back at the apothecary. The potion I was working on at the time, however, could not be put in stasis for long before the next ingredients were added as, without those ingredients, it was so volatile even under stasis if left much longer it likely would have destroyed my lab, so I ended up being later in coming than I would have liked.”
“I’m sorry …”
“Do not apologize, Harry,” the Potions master commanded sternly, black eyes hard. “It was my choice; I will not have you taking responsibility for what I choose to do. Is that clear?”
Stunned by the fury in the other man’s tone, Harry nodded.
With a sigh to release the sudden anger, Severus approached the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress by the kneeling young man, who tensed at his proximity. He spoke quietly, all hardness gone from his voice and eyes. “Do you understand why it would make me angry to have you blame yourself for my choices and actions, Harry?”
“No, Master,” Harry replied meekly.
“It is because I am a Dominant, and hope to be your Dominant at some point in the future. How can I take care of you, protect you, punish you, if you blame yourself for my choices, if you take the responsibility of my actions from me? That would completely reverse our roles. Your taking responsibility for my choices also takes away my purpose in this kind of relationship.”
Harry blinked, having never considered that’s how his words could be taken. “Oh … I’m sorry, I … er … never thought about it that way.”
“I’ll forgive you for it this once, as long as you remember what I’ve told you in the future. I do not enjoy being made to feel useless.”
“Y-Yeah,” Harry murmured, smiling up at the Dom a bit sheepishly. “I know how that feels. I’ll try not to do it again.”
“No, pet, you won’t try. You either do it, or you don’t.”
“But … what if I disobey without realizing I’m doing it?”
“Then you will be punished for it, and you will be punished for every time after that, as well, until you remember to think before acting. Will that suffice?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. Shall we get started with your punishment, then?” At the young man’s eager nod, Severus stood and began to undo the many buttons to his potions attire. He made an abrupt gesture with one hand, “Get undressed. You can leave your shorts on, but I want the rest of your clothes folded at the corner of your bed nearest me with your wand on top.” Obviously eager for the punishment, Harry scrambled to obey, quickly undoing his buttons and sliding the shirt off his shoulders, then moving on to his pants. Severus, for his part, finished unbuttoning his outer potions attire and slid the garment off his shoulders, folding it neatly and leaving it on the seat of the desk chair he found nearby. Then he unbuttoned the top three buttons of his nice, white dress shirt underneath, unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them up past his elbows, and secured them there with a wandless, non-verbal sticking charm so they wouldn’t get in the way as sleeves were prone to do.
“Master?” Harry called when he was finished, unsure what he was supposed to do next. “How do you want me …?” He flushed at the way the question came out and hurried to clarify himself, “I-I mean … what position do you want me to …?” His face abruptly reddened even further. Why the hell couldn’t he ask what position he should be in without it sounding like a sexually explicit invitation from a whore? “Th-That came out wrong! Er … what I meant was … was …”
With a husky, aroused chuckle, Severus laid his hand on the younger wizard’s head, silencing him. “On your knees, bent over with your hands on the headboard.” His cock twitched with want when Harry complied, his back stretched out in a long line before Severus’ avidly observing eyes. “Tell me your safe word, pet.”
“Firebolt, M-Master,” Harry responded obediently, breathing deeply and evenly to try to calm his body down, though it didn’t stop the tremors going through his limbs.
“Very good. I’m going to start with the whip. This one’s going to have a little more bite to it than the one I used on you previously. If it hurts too much, use your safe word.”
“Yes, Master.”
Pulling the whip from one of his pockets, he enlarged it from its shrunken state and snapped it against the wood of the desk, listening in satisfaction to the sharp sound and watching as Harry’s body twitched, the muscles in his back, ass, and legs tightening. This whip had less give to it than the one he’d used on Harry before, the tails less soft with tight knots at the ends. If one wasn’t skilled enough it could break skin, but Severus had trained many years to wield the whip with the utmost skill. Though he enjoyed causing pain, he only really enjoyed it if he was fully in control and the pain that he caused was intentional and not accidental. If he broke skin, it would happen on his terms.
Slowly, gently, he allowed the whip to touch Harry’s back, dragging it all across his skin, letting him feel the supple leather. Then he lifted it away, watching the lithe, young body tense before lowering it again, touching the whip to his flesh just as softly as before. He did that several times until Harry began to wriggle and fidget restlessly, no longer tensing up when the punishment tool touched him. That was when he knew it was time and he removed the whip once more, pulling it back just slightly farther than before and then snapping it down. The sound it caused when it met flesh made his cock begin to stir, and the sound of Harry gasping in a ragged breath of surprise spurred it to harden and rise even more rapidly. The headiness it brought him was a welcome sensation and he focused on that, ignoring the erection itself as it pressed against the front of his pants. He knew it would become painful before he was through, but the pleasure he received through punishing the younger male made it well worth it.
Up and back and then down again, following through so he left welts rather than cuts. He marked Harry’s upper back first, then moved on to his lower back, enjoying the smell of sweat and arousal the young man was emitting and the cries that came from his beautiful mouth at every strike. There were times Harry tried to keep himself from being heard, but all Severus had to do was pause for longer than usual between lashes, wait until the young man’s body relaxed, and then bring his arm down, putting his shoulder and back muscles into the strike, pulling the most delicious of sounds from him.
After about forty strikes of varying force, he stopped, and set the whip to the side on the bed. He put his hand on the other man’s back, earning himself a hiss of pain, and explored the expanse of hot skin and raised welts, taking pleasure in the feel and sight of the fresh punishment markings on Harry’s body. Finally, he sat down at the head of the bed and noticed the trembling in the other wizard’s arms. “Let go of the headboard, pet,” he ordered, putting one arm below Harry’s torso to help support him as he shakily and stiffly obeyed, dropping his hands to the bed with a relieved sigh. “Now, Harry, tell me why you’re being punished.”
“Because … you told me I could come to you when I felt I needed punished, which I did, and I … I was hurt by someone who wasn’t you. Because you’re my Master and the only one who’s allowed to punish and hurt me.”
“Good. That was a very good answer. Your punishment is fairly mild this time because the fact that you were hurt was not your fault. Realize, however, that should you ever seek out trouble deliberately, I will not be so lenient.”
Harry swallowed, realizing immediately that the man was being lenient. Though it had been a punishment and it had hurt, it had also brought him pleasure—pleasure the Potions master hadn’t discouraged, but had deliberately allowed him. “Yes, Master,” he breathed. “Thank you.”
Nodding, satisfied, Severus stood. “Fix your clothes and join your godson outside.”
Harry blinked dumbly up at the man, his heart seeming to drop into his stomach in disappointment. Already? “Master, you’re … not going to stay?”
The corners of his mouth quirking upward, Severus cupped Harry’s cheek, thumb stroking gently over the younger man’s slightly parted lips. “I only came to check up on you and deliver the punishment I knew you would need. Now you need to spend the time you promised with your godson.”
“But Master, I—mmph!” he gasped when the older man’s palm covered his mouth.
“Be good and go spend time with your godson,” Severus ordered with a deep, amused chuckle at the defiant look his actions earned him from the dark-haired sub.
Harry pulled the man’s hand down away from his mouth. “But Mas—“ he tried again even as he got up to obey, only to have the man’s palm come cracking down on the back side of his thigh. “Ouch!” He jumped and glowered at the smug Dom, the angry look turning into a pout as he rubbed at the sore spot the man’s hand had left. “You don’t play fair,” he mumbled, only to let out another yelp of pain when he was struck in the same spot on the opposite thigh. “O-Okay, I’m going. I’m going, all right?!” he shouted when Snape raised his hand again, covering the backs of his thighs the best he could as he shuffled around the other man, gathered his clothes and quickly dressed. Still sulking, he dragged his feet to the door. “Bully,” he grumbled under his breath as he opened it.
Smirking evilly, Severus swiftly moved behind the younger man, swatting him again, this time in the very center of his ass, chuckling at the yelp and heated glare he received for the action. “Bully, Master,” he corrected.
Harry snorted. “So even when I’m being disrespectful I have to be respectful and call you Master?”
Severus raised an eyebrow and watched as the former Gryffindor automatically dropped his eyes and bowed his head submissively, clearly unsure if he’d gone too far in their banter. With a smirk, the Potions master tilted Harry’s chin up again. “During punishment sessions, yes, even if you feel the need to be disrespectful you should still call me Master unless you’re looking to be punished again.”
Harry licked his lips, seriously thinking over what the other man said. Did he want to be punished again? Maybe he did, but ….
“Not yet,” he finally said.
Severus’ brows rose in question as he dropped his hand and repeated, “Yet?”
Harry bit his lower lip sheepishly, then glanced up at the Dom with a small, self-deprecating smile. “You and I both know I’m going to need it again. Thank you for … for doing that for me and … er … sticking around.”
Face softening, Severus laid his hand against the young man’s cheek, stroking his thumb across those plump, oh-so-tempting pink lips. He contemplated kissing the younger man—he could see Harry was expecting him to and would likely welcome it—but decided against it. He didn’t want to confuse the young man any more than he was already confused. If Harry wanted to be his sub, he would not influence that decision—as unintentional an influence as an innocent kiss could be. Harry would have to take that first step and come to him on his own.
“Master?” Harry questioned, tilting his head further into the man’s palm. It was warm. Like the soft glow of an open flame. It was the kind of heat he’d always looked for and sought after in his doomed relationship with Ginny.
He winced at the thought of her. Something really was wrong with him, comparing her to Snape. Somehow it felt even worse since she had died. It wasn’t her fault she had a lower body temperature. And it certainly wasn’t her fault their relationship didn’t work out. That was all on him.
Immediately noticing the guilt rising in those vibrant green eyes, Severus dropped his hand back down, murmuring quietly, “Don’t do that, pet.”
Harry frowned as his attention was diverted away from his thoughts of Ginny, asking absently, “Do what?”
Sighing, resigned, the dark-eyed wizard put his hand to Harry’s back and gave him a gentle push toward the door. “Go play with your godson. I’ll be waiting here when you’re finished.”
“But … I told you, I don’t need to be punished again. Not yet. And I’m sure you have other things to do.”
“There’s something on your mind, though. Something that is putting that guilt back in your eyes. Perhaps you don’t need punishment right at this moment, but I believe you may at least need someone to talk to and, perhaps, also need the pain along with it. I will speak with Andromeda about spending the night in one of her other guest rooms.”
“You don’t have to do that, sir. I’ll be fine.”
Severus held up a forestalling hand to keep the younger wizard from arguing any further. “My decision, Mr. Potter, not yours. I will be staying.”
Having no way of countering the Potions master’s decision without offending the man, Harry could do nothing but whisper a quiet, “Yes, Master.”
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Well, there are certain parts of this chapter I'm extremely happy with and others I'm not. I still feel like I have some confusion going on. I hope that's not the case, though. Please let me know if anything seems weird or off, it helps a lot! Thanks so much for reading. You can find review replies here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/47397-punish-me-review-replies/
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Punish Me