He would always follow her every command.

That time at eleven, when he sat through an entire evening of Petunia's glares and Mrs. Evans's concerned looks, shrinking, shirking, shriveling away in embarrassment as his torn sleeves fell on the immaculate dinner table. But Lily had insisted that he come to dinner and meet her family. And who was he to refuse Lily Evans?

Or that time at twelve, when he wanted nothing more than to disappear into the dark corner, and draw no more attention to his scrawny self. How he hated social gatherings. Lily, surrounded by her posse of friends, suddenly remembered him again, called him, summoned him. And without a word of protest, he played Truth or Dare, no matter how close it forced him to come to declaring his feelings for Lily. For he could not refuse Lily Evans.

Or that time at thirteen, when she was so anxious to practice waltzing before the Yule Ball, so as not to embarrass herself in front of her date. Her date. How he had to grind his teeth and bite his lips, only to prevent the scathing remarks from spilling out. Awkward, angry, embarrassed, hurt, he let her rest her hands on his shoulders and use him as her personal mannequin. For he could never refuse Lily Evans.

Or that time at fourteen, when she had just had her first kiss, and sought him out, a giggling mess of nerves. She told him her bliss, her fears, her worries, her happiness. He was the silent listener that she needed, even as he broke inside. After all, how could he ever refuse Lily Evans?

And now, once again, the fifteen-year-old Severus Snape smiled wryly in resignation.

"I want you to do something for me, Sev," She had said, blushing slightly. "It might sound weird, but I'm just curious... and... well, yea."

And just like that, he was all attention. Waiting for the command.

Resistance is futile; I am hers. There is not a thing in the world that she could not get me to do.

"Well then, what is it?"

Lily turned away slightly, fighting embarrassment. Then she turned back and looked him straight in the eyes.

Always the brave-hearted Gryffindor.

"I want you to show me your... erm... well, your... manhood."

Severus gulped. He was now the one turning away, hiding his brightly-tinged cheeks behind the veil of hair. "Lily, I don't think we should..."

Lily huffed. "Come on, Sev, don't be such a prude. It's no big deal. Really. I could ask someone else, but – well, as you're my best friend... I thought it would be easier."

"W-why? W-why do you want to – to see it?"

Lily shrugged. "I'm just curious. Some of the older girls in the dorms have been talking, and I started wondering..."

Severus swallowed hard. Oh, he had been wondering, too, for quite some time. It was always Lily, only Lily. He would imagine what it would be like if he ever gathered the courage to tell her how he felt – and if by some unearthly stroke of luck she accepted him. He imagined what it would be like to be hers.

His heart beat erratically, as Severus realized that his dream had just come true. He was hers, all hers, truly hers. And she was commanding him to disrobe before her. His cock throbbed at the thought that in mere seconds, her perfect green eyes would behold his desire for her.

Why would I ever refuse Lily Evans?

Avoiding Lily's expectant gaze, Severus gathered up his robes, exposing the thin, pallid legs below the old, graying underpants. His cheeks burned with humiliation, but he forced himself to raise his eyes to her face, searching for the disgust he expected to find.

Instead, he saw only curiosity and intrigue. With a nod of her head, Lily bade him to continue.

With trembling fingers of one hand – the other awkwardly holding up the mass of his robes – Severus brushed against the underpants, uncertain.

"Lily, I – no girl has ever –"

"I know, Sev," she soothed with understanding, "It's ok." And then, in a gesture of comfort, she gently stroked his arm. "We are best friends, Sev. There is nothing to fear."

How he would later resent the irony of those words. How cruel they would come to sound to him in retrospect. Nothing to fear? She was about to hurt him more than anything ever had.

Severus shut his eyes, and with a single desperate pull, freed his erection of its confines. The embarrassing fabric of his blue-gray boxers now hung awkwardly around his knees.

He heard Lily's gasp, and looked at her once more.

Her eyes were glued to his member (which throbbed gleefully at the attention). Her brow was creased in something remotely resembling puzzlement or discontent (his heart broke at the thought that she was not liking what she saw).

"It's so – so – hairy." She stated at last, slightly crinkling her nose in distaste.

Severus felt the chill of disappointment. He glanced down at himself, at his member that so resembled the rest of him – long, pale, thin, with a bundle of unruly hair.

"I – I am sorry." He stuttered, ashamed. "I will... um... cut it... shave it... sorry, Lil... I just, didn't know... um, expect... I wasn't prepared."

Lily was not listening. She was far too engulfed in her exploration of her exposed best friend and – although she was far from admitting it even to her own self – in the thrill of power she held over him. Feeling unexpectedly bold, she reached out her hand, and touched the tip of his erection with her index finger.

Severus moaned. "Lily..."

"Why is it so... um... like that? E-erect, I mean?"

And the torturous finger slid – agonizingly slowly – down his length. "B-b-because you are l-looking at me. Like this. It's – it's – oh Lily."

He felt the treacherous wave of desire about to overcome him. With the last shreds of sanity, he ground out: "Please, Lily, please stop."

But Lily Evans certainly did not follow Severus Snape's commands.

Instead of showing mercy, her delicate fingers continued their torture, wrapping snugly around his eager cock.

All it took was a light squeeze.

Lily gasped, then jumped back abruptly. "Severus!" Her shriek, half-horrified, half-disgusted, was enough to break his fragile heart.

"L-l-lily," He whispered, still trembling from the subsiding climax. The best he had ever had. The one given by her hand, not his. "I – I am sorry, Lily. Here, let me clean you up."

She pushed away his extended hand, choosing to clean her sticky, soiled robed by herself. Severus watched her perform the cleansing charm with growing embarrassment and shame.

They did not speak for some time, once she was done. Awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot, stealing furtive glances at each other.

"Sev – "

He cut her off. He could not bear hearing her disapprobation, her disappointment, her discontent.

"Lily, I'm so, so sorry. That will never happen again, I promise. So silly, really. I should have had more control." He was blabbering now, as if that would somehow erase the expression of faint disinterest and disgust from her beautiful face. The mere thought that he had displeased Lily hurt more than Severus could have expected. He wanted so badly to make things right. "Please, Lily, please forgive me. I didn't mean to – I... here, how about you punish me for it? Give me a good, sound spanking, so that I would learn some control? It will teach me to do better next time, I promise."

As he was saying those words – where on earth have they come from, such audacious words? – he felt his limp member coming back to life. The mere idea of Lily Evans – oh God – reddening his ass cheeks, while scolding him sternly... well, quite frankly, at that moment, he could not imagine a more delicious scene.

I just want to be hers. Completely hers. Hers to pleasure, hers to command, hers to correct.

Lily raised an eyebrow, regarding him sceptically. Then her eyes widened, not so much with shock as with worry. And then she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"I am not your mother, Severus," She pronounced coolly, sending a chill down his spine. But those words were nothing compared to what she was about to say next. "And there will be no next time."

With that, she gathered her book bag, and stepped aside, giving him space to get dressed. She waited for him to finish, so that they might head back to the castle together. But he sped past her, in a fury of angry tears.

Severus could not have known that her coldness was not an account of him, but herself. Or rather, her perverted, treacherous mind, which had somehow found appealing the idea of spanking her best friend into submission. No, Lily Evans could not allow such dark desires to even surface to the front of her conscious. She did the only thing she could: she recoiled, some Gryffindor that she was.

But Severus could not have known. As he pulled his old underpants back over his thighs, he felt the wetness over his cheek. Unwanted tears of hurt, of shame, of heartbreak. He was desperate and angry. And he loved her so very much.

He ran back to the castle, hopeless and nauseous.

At least it's all over.

How wrong he had been.

For Severus Snape was still desperate and still angry the next day, hanging upside down in the air under James Potter's taunts.

"Let him down!" He heard her come to his defense, as always. But instead of the fuzzy warmth it usually gave him, her interference this time only made him feel sick.

She has made it amply clear that she is 'not my mother', and that she doesn't want me. She doesn't care for me – she never did. Why does she even bother?

And in the heat of the moment, his injured love came out all wrong.

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

The moment he saw the hurt his words had inflicted, he wished desperately that he could take them back. Sure, her pain was nothing compared to the pain she had given him. But that did not matter. None of it mattered. For Severus Snape belonged completely to Lily Evans, and wouldn't have it any other way.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. What have I done? Oh sweet Merlin...

"Fine," Came her cool response. She was so much better at collecting herself under stress, so much more controlled, than he was. Which would make her so perfectly suited to be his strict disciplinarian. But all such wistful thoughts fled Severus's mind at her next words: "I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

Oh, how he wished she would make him take those very pants down, then and there, to redden his bottom for all to see. But instead, she wanted nothing to do with either his underpants or himself. She thought them both dirty.

Desperately, he glanced at her, pleading with his eyes.

Please, Lily. I'm so sorry, Lily. So awfully, terribly sorry. Won't you let me make it up? Won't you help to correct me? You've always wanted to do that, Lily – to make me be good. Don't give up on me, Lily!

Please...

But she had already walked away, having exchanged a few heated words with James Potter, and ignored the scrawny boy with the pleading eyes. And now he was back upside down, his tormentor offering his spectators the sadistic pleasure of his pallid body on display.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"

Frankly, Severus Snape didn't care. He knew there were far greater evils than being displayed for the whole school to see. For she had already seen him, all of him, and found him lacking. His life was now nothing but pain.

But even in his most melodramatic moods, he could not have known just how much pain. For Lily Evans would not speak to him again for nearly a decade. Not until she would be brought into the sinister hall, and magnanimously awarded to him as a Mudblood slave.