Footsteps in the Dark (a MTS interlude) | By : Rettavex Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 5395 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: 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. |
I gave Slyth the night off, so this is un'beta'd. All errors are mine...much like in real life ;-). Feel free to point them out if the existence of them will keep you up at night. Toodles, R.
Life could be sweet, but Severus Snape found it was always sweetest in the dark, with only the ghosts of his past transgressions and the stinging slice of leather against his skin for company. He could not hide from himself in the dark. The dark was peculiar in that it made him feel safe and cloaked like a swaddled babe, while simultaneously exposing him to the harsh realities of truth that tended to shine brightest when light was absent.
As he felt the final stroke of the leather strap whip make contact with his sweaty back Severus was once again struck by the thought he had never found anything that quite equaled the abstruse pleasure of pushing his mind and body to the limit. He had long ago learned that when blinded by the dark, having placed his safety into the hands of another while his sanity remained tethered by the merest thread of consciousness, he would be forced to breathe in his fears and by sheer will alone turn them into inexplicable ecstasy. To know what it meant to be both out of control and restrained all at once; to learn to control his mind enough to empty it of all extraneous emotional detritus and focus solely on the present moment.
A moment, such as now, in which he was hogtied by a short crossbar truss, kneeling on a cold stone floor, bent forward at the torso to lie across a red leather bench, wearing of all things his old Death Eater mask into which Harry had charmed a rubber bit.
Their playroom, a cozy, walled off portion of the cellar, had been charmed to a humid ninety degrees. Whenever the urge to play struck them Harry always insisted on having he room hot, claiming he got off on seeing Severus glistening with sweat. While Severus held no doubt his lover liked the look of his pale skin slickened with perspiration, he also knew that Harry had discovered the added benefit sweat could produce when it slid across a cut or freshly made welt.
Earlier in the evening, when his anal beads had been driving him insane with their slow, rhythmic pulsing against his prostate, Severus had thought for sure his wish to engage in a little rough play would be lost along with his seed right there on the kitchen floor. Yet, halfway through the meal Harry had taken great pity on him. Watching defeat creeping closer with every wanton gasp his sub made, Harry had silently transfigured the end string of the beads left dangling outside of Severus’ body into a tight, leather cock ring. Amazingly enough his Amoral magic allowed him to do so without disrupting the wave-like vibration of the beads inside his lover.
It was then that Severus had truly begun to enjoy the night. He had love. He had a home. He had an amazing lover and mate. And now, in the room he had dryly termed their “buttress”, Severus let go and wallowed in his most prurient passions, led by a dom, who although still learning, was already showing great proficiency at helping him exorcise his fears, remember and forgive himself his past, acknowledge and admit his shortcomings, and accept without shame that this too could be what it meant to be whole.
The whip, it had been forgiveness; the silence, it was accusation. In it Severus could hear the screams and cries of those he’d tortured, he could taste the bitter satisfaction he received at watching his prey slaughtered like lambs. The silence could grow maddening for a man who had been intimate with great evil, even once upon a time enjoying it. Severus feel stripped of his very flesh when the sound of the whip became silence.
The sub felt his lover come closer, listening like a hawk for every subtle shift of wind, every movement and breath echoing off the stone walls. He felt a wisp of magic skitter across his face before his upper and lower teeth reconnected. The parched tip of his tongue lay once more against the hard, tacky roof of his mouth. Swallowing, he ran his tongue across the surface of his teeth, desperate to collect any saliva hidden there.
“What have you learned?” Harry’s voice echoed smoothly around the room, reverberating off the walls and making Severus’ teeth chatter.
Panting like a dog trying to expend heat, his belly quivering and shaking from the adrenaline despite the heated room, Severus gulped, the back of his dry throat sticking to itself.
“I am repentant but not ashamed,” Severus croaked in a raspy whisper.
He listened as Harry shuffled away, his bare feet connecting with the stone like that of a toddler’s clap. It momentarily dawned on Severus that perhaps his dom was displeased with his answer, that maybe he had not articulated his lesson properly. That perhaps Harry was disappointed that his emotional progress was coming along so slowly.
Then not more than two minutes later Harry was back. The warmth from his dom’s body, which Severus knew to be naked, could be felt even within the stifling temperature of the room. Then he felt as something cold, ice perhaps, was slid along his spine from the base of his neck to the tip of his cleft. It was shockingly tantalizing, a tease of refreshment for his overheated skin, taunting him in his thirst.
“Tell me, pet, how shall I reward you for your astute internal observations?” Harry asked, sliding the melting ice further down his cleft so that it rested against the string of beads still inside him.
Severus gave a stilted mewl, as the cold water dripping off the ice cube trickled down onto his balls. In the heat of the room the frigid water felt like the edge of a thin blade moving across his skin, threatening to draw blood.
“I want you…to… indulge. I want you to use me. Make me…, “ Severus rubbed his masked face into the leather bench in frustration.
Slap. Severus flinched and shut his eyes tightly when the heavy open palm suddenly made forceful contact with the flesh of his right buttock.
“Your back is like a maze of welts, pet. Finish your statement or I’ll leave you here—all alone, with the silence,” Harry replied, his voice a cool, harsh whisper against Severus’ right ear.
Summoning his last bit of saliva to moisten his mouth once more, Severus complied.
“Make me…make me beg. Make me scream. Make me afraid. Make me forget.”
The cross bar was magically vanished. Severus had but a moment to roll his shoulders to relieve the stress that had been placed on them in their previous hogtied position, before Harry waved a hand and had him restrained once more, bent over the low bench in perfect doggy-style. Both his wrists and ankles were attached to black, cast-iron spreader bars, which held him rigidly in place, with only the support of the bench under his torso for support.
Harry, silent as a ghost except for the faint sounds of his movements, summoned a tiny vial from one of two nearby antique, rosewood cabinets, which contained much of their erotic paraphernalia. Severus’ heart was thumping against his breastbone like a herd of hippogriffs. His mouth had suddenly become moist as his salivary glands were awakened by the mere anticipation of having his darkest desires granted. With every miniscule shift he made, his nipples— nearly as hard as his cock and wet with his own sweat—inadvertently rubbed against the supple leather of the bench, creating a tiny, squeak. Severus could already envision them being rubbed raw against the leather as Harry pounded into him. It was going to hurt so fucking good.
Without warning Harry began slowly pulling the beads, each one giving Severus’ prostate a bye-bye nuzzle before popping through his opening. Severus could only hope he’d be seeing them again soon.
Once the beads had been extracted, Severus felt Harry’s thumb make a teasing circuit around his pucker, making only enough contact for Severus to wish he had the ability to buck his ass backward for more intense contact.
“Shhh,” Harry cautioned.
Severus was vaguely amused that Harry was always treating him like some skittish colt that needed to be soothed. He was not amused by the fact that he often felt like some skittish colt in need of soothing when Harry had him in play.
The masked wizard took a deep breath, using all his will to fill his diaphragm with oxygen, cooling his anticipation from boiling to simmer. Before he could fully exhale he felt something warm and slightly thick being drizzled along his cleft. As Harry began to massage the substance around Severus’ entrance, the potions master recognized the effects of his signature lubricant. He brewed this recipe only for he and Harry. He didn’t even brew it outside of their home. It was theirs alone. It was soothing when first applied, only to begin heating up with the friction of sex. It was enhanced to reduce the chance of tears and damage, while also tightening the thin anal tissues for greater pleasure. Another happy consequence of using it was that it made the need for repeated cleaning charms in the event of multiple rounds of sex in one night obsolete.
Severus let out a tense breath when he felt Harry’s cock nudge into place behind him. He was so very ready; so very needy. He wanted nothing more than for his lover to fuck him long and hard, forcing away everything but their carnal desire.
“Relax,” Harry cooed, as he shoved his hips forward with force, seating himself fully and yanking a startled scream from Severus. Without remorse for his contradictory behavior, Harry grabbed Severus by the hair, positioning his face to the side, so that one ear was pressed flat against the bench. He then wrapped one hand across the front of Severus’ throat.
Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head a bit when he heard that first hitch of breath from his sub as his hand closed around that long, slender neck. He could feel Severus’ Adam’s Apple bobbing slightly beneath his palm. Every ridge of his lover’s trachea could be felt along his palm. It was pure power. It presented the ultimate in trust, responsibility and submission. Harry had life in his hands, and every dark thought that he had so consciously held at bay was allowed to frolic across his mind, carefully controlled by the overwhelming love he had for the man who trusted him so.
The sub in Severus spread wide open. Released, in this space, from all former bounds, the potions master began humming deep inside his chest, the crushing weight of Harry’s palm against his throat nearly squeezing all sound away.
“Oh, fuck!” Harry moaned, his hips whipping back and forth, pumping into Severus’ willing hole vigorously, his mind eclipsed by the palpable heat and passion suffused all around them.
Severus’ mind flashed images of their first breeding, when Harry held him face down and ass up, mounting him like some animal and slaking his lust. This was beautifully reminiscent of that moment, when Severus had first crossed the threshold from acceptance to adoration.
“Love…fucking you. Fuck! I Love it,” Harry panted, his fist tightening along with his balls.
Severus gave a muted grunt in reply, as Harry shifted behind him. He could feel Harry’s knees get closer to his own as his dom spread his own legs, angling for better aim at Severus’ prostate. Like a seeker spotting a snitch, Harry began to chase after his own orgasm, wanting nothing more than to spend himself fully, deeply inside his brave, willing, tortured sub.
Severus, unable to scream due to the tight grasp Harry had on his throat, nonetheless managed to moan from deep within his belly every time Harry pounded against that bundle of nerves that made being a man so much fun. He could already feel his throat being bruised from Harry’s grasp, and he hoped there would be bruises come the morning. He loved wearing Harry’s love. He loved wearing Harry’s wrath. But when he could wear a bruise that was both he felt complete.
As Harry’s climax neared Severus felt his lover’s clutch on his throat give a bit as the younger man leaned down to swipe the broad side of his tongue across a series of scattered welts across his back.
The taste of sweat and a tiny bit of his sub’s blood was Harry’s undoing. He came with a primordial growl, his cock shooting its load like a bullet inside his sub accepting body.
At this point Severus was almost delirious from the combination of heat, short-lived oxygen deprivation, and his own orgasm denial. His cock felt swollen and uncomfortably heavy, though he could tell it was still jutting upright in salute, the tip cool with oozing drops of precum.
Harry slipped his spent cock out of that velvety orifice, not caring that a sloppy mess flowed out behind him. He stood, and without uttering a word vanished Severus’ restraints and cock ring. He levitated his horny sub up and over like a fried egg, laying Severus’ flushed, sweaty, welted body down on a soft pallet nearby.
When his cock ring was released Severus thought he’d orgasm from that alone. Yet, after he was laid upon a soft feather mattress, his welts hardly protesting the contact, Harry lay down beside him and began kissing him from top to bottom. His dom’s tongue was soft and warm. It tickled as it stroked behind his ear and set his soul afire when it toyed behind his knees and along the crease where his ass met his thighs.
“Harry…love,” Severus said, the last word coming out hesitant, feeling foreign on his tongue. “Let me cum. Please. I’ll do anything.”
“Hmm, anything, eh?”
“Yes. Name it.”
“Let me heal the bruising on your neck in the morning,” Harry replied casually, his tongue snaking between Severus’ long toes.
Severus almost yanked his foot back. Almost. “No.”
“Ah, well then. I suppose you don’t get to cum.”
“Couldn’t we…perhaps just a concealment charm, then?”
Harry nodded, slithering back up a bit so that his face was directly over Severus’ cock. “You’ve been so good, pet. I’m going to suck you, drink you down, then flip you over and fuck you again.”
The younger man gave his lover a wicked smile before taking a teasing lick of the fluid collecting on Severus’ stomach. “Then I am going to leave you here, on this mat, covered in my marks and bruises, filthy and smelling of musk and sex. Would you like that?”
“Unghhh!” was the only sound Severus made as Harry’s lips wrapped around his weeping cock. His eyesight became fuzzy as the tip of his cock slipped just past Harry’s gag reflex. Severus felt his orgasm rush forth like a tsunami as his cock became lodged in Harry’s throat. With a scream straight out of a Muggle horror film, Severus peaked, dumping his long denied load down his dom’s throat just before the world faded.
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