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Vexations	By : lightspeedsound Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 34781 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 19
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not make any money off of this fanfic.

Chapter List
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Title: Vexations

Author: Magistrix_Sirina

Rating: NC-17/Lascivious/Gratuitous amounts of sex

Warnings: light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, general sexual fluidity, and possibly really bad puns.

Genre: PWP. Absolutely. Here be le sex; ye be warned.

Setting: AU (as Severus is still alive).

Summary: I’m going to be honest: My goal for this fic was to answer the age-old fanfiction conundrum of “Is it possible to write a ridiculously gratuitous fanfic, while still maintaining literary credibility?” This is the result of my experiment.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. I merely like playing with them.

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Chapter 1: Through the Looking Glass

The Midnight Cloak was a nondescript black building located on the far end of Knockturn Alley, past Borgin and Burkes and the itinerant peddlers of illegal goods. Its dark brick façade, unadorned with any sort of sign, was windowless and uninviting. The only decoration was a solid, ebony door, meant to intimidate and discourage casual passersby from entering.

     At night, when Knockturn Alley really came alive, the bricks of the Midnight Cloak emanated a soft, white glow. Witches and wizards with the proper password and magical invitation were allowed in, but only through a discreet side entrance, catty-corner to the main doors. Masks were encouraged, although Death Eater masks were considered to be poor taste (unless, of course, one was participating in a Death Eater fetish scene).

     Once inside, patrons were greeted with pulsating, gritty, rock music and stages decorated with sexual fantasy scenery. There was the naughty schoolgirl stage, set up like a typical Hogwarts classroom; the shower stage, complete with a magical invisible barrier that kept water in and drafts out; the bondage stage, with all the accouterments a dominatrix might need; the sundae bar stage, where patrons could lie down and be covered with whipped cream, cherries, and chocolate sauce, and countless other fantasy settings that let no fetish go forgotten.

     The Midnight Cloak was a sex club for discerning witches and wizards. It prided itself on its discretion, its beautiful bartenders, and its nearly inexhaustible ability to cater to every sexual whim. There were only three house rules:
1. No one got in without a legitimate invitation (achieved by referral and a one-time-only duplication Charm)
2. No sex with the unwilling
3. No tipping, no service
Failure to comply with any of the house rules meant instant exile, possibly via the use of random Portkeys, whose destinations were routinely locations where nudity would be at its most embarrassing. Failure to tip was often accompanied by house-sanctioned slaps. And of course, anyone who violated the privacy and referral policy was immediately Obliviated and Apparated to the United States, in a fairly remote Muggle mental institution that housed the criminally insane.

Severus Snape was rather fond of the Midnight Cloak, mainly because the owner’s rather twisted sense of humor ensured not only his privacy, but amusement as well. He tended to frequent the Cloak during summer vacation, when he his trips to Knockturn Alley were least likely to attract the attention of his students. He never attended the Cloak without his black, velvet domino mask, and he never gave out his real name to his partners. He had a sneaking suspicion that many of the other patrons were former students (or possibly, current students who had just achieved majority and had the appropriate connections), but the discreet policies of the Cloak ensured that scandal could generally be avoided or dispersed immediately.

This particular night, Snape was coming from the final, pre-semester staff meeting at Hogwarts. After two weeks of lesson plans, scheduling meetings, and the type of general administrative work that leaves one absolutely fed up with calendars and charts, Snape was ready to have his final sexual hurrah before the term began. Excusing himself from the staff table in the Great Hall, he hurried back to his quarters to prepare.

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Black dress shirt with jet buttons, black bespoke trousers, black Italian leather belt with a softly burnished silver buckle, a particularly billowy black robe, and his black velvet domino mask.

Severus rushed to put on his Midnight Cloak uniform and grabbed his wand. The walk to Hogsmeade was tedious, but unfortunately necessary if he wanted to Apparate as discreetly as possible.

Fifteen minutes later, behind the Hog’s Head, checking for passersby and observers, Snape quietly Apparated to Knockturn Alley.

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Hermione Granger bit her lip and nervously adjusted her stiff, white and silver leather Columbina mask as the bouncer inspected her invitation. Months of careful research and reconnaissance, and she was finally at the Midnight Cloak’s doorstep.

Hermione had first heard about the Midnight Cloak from Viktor Krum. Rich, famous, and kinky, Krum was the typical Cloak client. Their breakup had been amicable, and Krum had provided her with the adequate referrals. However, Hermione had been reluctant to really cash in on her invitation, until she was entirely sure of the safety and privacy protocols.

At 17 (copious amounts of Time Turning having aged her by a year), Hermione was rather inexperienced. Though no longer a virgin, Hermione had spent the summer before her sixth year reading up on sexuality and the fetish community. Experimenting with masturbation and discreetly obtained wizarding porn, Hermione was eager to escape from the series of clumsy, schoolboy encounters described by her girl friends. Haunted by memories of Ron’s horribly awkward attempts at fingering her, Hermione had finally realized that in order to find a competent, knowledgeable, and sexually compatible partner, she would have to distance herself from boys her age.

Hermione was also well aware that the clientele of the Midnight Cloak included many possible Death Eaters. Justifying her sexual curiosity with the possibility of undercover investigation, Hermione bought herself some high-end lingerie (her first non-utility bra!) and presented herself at the Midnight Cloak.

“Are you new?” asked the bouncer gruffly, from behind a voluminous cloak that hid his face but not his imposing size.

“Y-yes,” stammered Hermione, ashamed of how obvious she was.

“Do you know the house rules?”

“Um…yes?” Of course she knew the house rules. Everybody went to the Midnight Cloak because of its house rules.

“No outing people, no non-con, and no stingy tips.”

“Yes, I know.”

The bouncer nodded. “It’s protocol to remind every patron. Four sickle cover charge.”

Hermione grabbed the envelope she had prepared with the requisite money. The bouncer counted her coins, and nodded to her.

“Welcome to the Midnight Cloak.”

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It was a typical Friday night at the Cloak. The music was industrial, the cocktails were strong, and the patrons were sizing each other up, predatory with barely contained lust.

Snape casually paid for a firewhiskey and soda, and surveyed the crowd. He was always careful to only approach other people with masks. If his identity became known to his partner, the fact that his partner also required secrecy ensured that no blackmail would occur.

Snape preferred the new patrons, the inexperienced but passionate. The risk of bedding somebody who attended the Cloak regularly was not worth whatever momentary pleasure of an encounter. Newbies, on the other hand, were fresh. They were overcome by the sheer sexuality oozing from the crowd, and as a result, their ability to identify their partners was lessened.

Man or woman, tonight? Severus thought to himself. Sipping his drink, he surveyed the clumps of wallflowers sitting at the padded leather booths by the dance floor. Newcomers always sat there, unsure of where to go or what to watch. Grinding bodies, people enacting fantasies, nearly naked cocktail waitress: the Midnight Cloak was a veritable smorgasbord of titillating sights.

There. In the corner, balancing on the edge of the booth’s bench, sitting on her hands like a child surrounded by forbidden candy. Perfection. A white Carnivale mask covered the top half of her face, before winging out to accentuate her cheekbones. Her dark, roiling mass of hair (Sex hair, Severus thought) reached the small of her decidedly bare back. She wore a black satin bra with straps that crossed her shoulder blades like a ballerina’s toe shoe ribbons. Her fringe of a black pleated skirt revealed lace topped, sheer black, thigh highs. On her feet was the most delicate pair of silver pumps he had ever seen.

Oh my, Severus thought, Woman tonight, indeed.

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“Hello.”

Hermione jumped, the unexpected greeting jolting her away from the sight of the shower stage being occupied by a threesome of witches. She looked up. A tall, lanky wizard clad in black, wearing a black velvet domino mask stood over her.

“Um…Hi,” Hermione replied, awkwardly trying to guess what the correct protocol was here. She nervously glanced around the room, trying to figure out the etiquette of being in a kinky, clandestine sex club. Squinting her eyes to make sense of the roiling mass of tangled limbs that was the dance floor, she found herself at a loss. Should she inspect the goods? Was feeling him up considered key? How does one initiate sex with a stranger? And did he want sex, or was she just in his way?

“Are you new?” he asked, appreciatively examining the witch’s softly curved breasts and impeccable legs.

“No!” squeaked Hermione, “I mean, I come here a lot…I mean, well, not a LOT but I mean, fairly regularly. I mean, well, not like once a week but like…oh, fuck. Yes. I’m new. How could you tell?” Through a haze of embarrassment, Hermione vaguely wondered how awkward she had to be before the bouncers threw her out for being a buzzkill to all the other guests.

“I’ve never seen you here before. And your expression seemed…rather gobsmacked.” Snape allowed himself a small grin. The newbies were always so obvious.

Hermione sighed. “Well, I suppose I was gobsmacked. I’ve never…I mean to say…”

“You’ve never been to a sex club before?”

“No, not at all. I’ve never even really done anything non-vanilla before.” It’s not like he couldn’t tell that anyway, I’m so awkward.

Severus slid into the booth. “Ah,” he said, “so this is a maiden foray into the world of alternate sexuality?”

Hermione reddened, suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands. He was very close. “I was curious. I wanted something…different.”

He smiled at her, then gestured to the grinding couples on the dance floor. “And are you still curious?”

He’s propositioning me, Hermione thought, I am sexy enough to be propositioned. What did one do when an intriguing and mysterious stranger approached one for sex? She vaguely recalled a romance novel involving a French duke and a maid in his castle, but her research never really mentioned any steps in between getting approached and getting it on. Perhaps because any intermediary steps would simply be meaningless, empty chitchat, while people debated the merits of sexual congress, she hypothesized.

Determined to do things by the book, Hermione decided to throw all caution to the wind. She rose to kneel on the booth, angling her hips towards his. “I’m actually curiouser and curiouser, sir,” she whispered into his ear.

Snape froze, acutely aware of the hint of vanilla perfume wafting off the witch’s body. Her lips lightly brushed the shell of his ear. Oh yes, he thought, I really did pick well tonight. He turned towards her, grasping her body to his as he smoothly stood up. “Come then, my Alice,” he said, running his fingers lightly down her naked arms, “It’s time to experience Wonderland.”

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They started on the dance floor, hips pressed against hips, legs intertwined, bodies pulsating to the heavy beat. Slowly Hermione fluttered her body against his, grinding lower and lower against his frame, treating him like a stripper pole. His grip tightened on her shoulders as he moaned in response to her movements. Oh yes, Hermione thought, I could really get used to this.

Unable to stand the witch’s gyrations, Severus roughly grabbed her shoulders and pulled her body into his arms. Yanking her hair roughly to one side, he exposed her pulse point. His other hand went to the small of her back, pressing their bodies closer together. Growling in lust, Snape’s mouth pressed against the soft juncture of her neck and shoulder, tongue flickering over her skin as he lightly bit her flesh.

Hermione moaned as the sudden pressure sent jolts of heat down her belly. She ran one hand through his sleek, dark hair, twining the strands through her fist. Their bodies still gyrating, her other hand went lower, sneakily un-tucking his shirt and sliding underneath the cloth, to rest on bare skin.

Severus trailed his lips up to her ear, delicately sucking on the soft skin of her earlobe. “Naughty,” he whispered, “naughty Alice is eager to explore.”

The velvety lust in his voice sent a thrill of power through Hermione’s body. “If I’m Alice, does that make you the Mad Hatter?” She teased, her fingers lightly tracing the bare skin of his back.

His grip stiffened. Without warning he pushed her against the wall of the club, his body between her legs, hands pinning her wrists above her head. His mouth devoured her lips, his tongue ravaging her mouth as his crotch ground against hers. Hermione moaned into his mouth arching her body against his, wanting contact, relishing the feel of his hard cock against her silk covered mound. His mouth trailed to her neck, then the tops of her breasts, then licking her nipples through the thin satin of her bra.

“It makes me mad AS a hatter, girl,” He growled, “It makes me want to take that pretty little arse of yours between my knees and spank you, for being such a naughty girl. It makes me want to finger your tight pussy until you scream. It makes me want to lick your clit until you can’t stand. It makes me want to tear this bra off you and suck on your breasts until your panties are soaked through with lust. It makes me want to wrap your legs around my waist, ram my cock inside your quim, and fuck you senseless while the whole club watches you cum.”

Oh. My. God. His obscenely explicit words, delivered sotto voce, made Hermione’s nipples tighten, her sex wet with need. She felt as if she was listening to a lecture on her sexual irresistibility. She suddenly wished she had a quill and parchment, so that she could take notes on use of the word “quim.” “Yes!” she moaned, “Please. Yes. YES.”

“You want me to fuck you?” He paused, his eyes boring through his mask with lust, “Is that what you want, for everybody to see?”

“Yes!” Hermione whispered furiously, “PLEASE.”

“Very well, my Alice.” Without warning, he pulled her away from the wall to lead her to the stages.

Oh, my, Hermione thought, struggling to keep up with her masked wizard, Well, they do say that it’s best to seize the moment in these situations. I just hope that I’m not over my head…

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AN: Just a bit of fun! More smutty smut to follow…

Special thanks to my beta readers, Spicy Obsession and Thisisadickinson.
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Vexations