Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else that makes money for that matter. Only the kinky little thoughts in my brain.

Lesson 1

Maybe I should start from the beginning. It started one day during lunch. I had finished eating early, like usual and decided to head outside to sit under my special tree in the courtyard for a while and take "pleasure" from a good book. I always pick one of the trees further away from most of the others where there were less students and teachers passing by. Typically, no one really came round while I read, but once in a while I did have the random passerby. It didn't matter though; they never really paid attention to me sitting behind a tree quiet as a mouse.

I was enjoying the steamy encounters between couples exploring their inner kinkiness with tales of whips, chains, and ball gags. Sometimes they weren't just couples. Maybe a threesome or foursome? No matter how many were involved it was always appealing and very alluring how each one delved deep into their psyche and sexuality to bring themselves to that thin line between pain and pleasure only to cross into the boundaries of immeasurable ecstasy of the carnal nature.

It is quite thrilling the trust one has with their mate when tied to a bed wearing nothing but a pair of fishnets, a gag, and a blind fold, moaning as your partner lashes at your behind with a cat o' nine tails(1) leaving you writhing in divine bliss.

Now, back to my book. The book was a compilation of real people and their true bondage experiences. The one that caught my attention today was about a woman writing very erotic letters to her lover while he was away. She would slip them under his pillow to wait for his arrival. In the letters she would write exactly what she wanted him to do to her in great detail. How she was dressed in school girl attire, taking his every command. And when she didn't do as he instructed, she would be punished with a swift strike of his large hands to the plump mass of her rear.

Needless to say, I was certainly aroused by the print and thoroughly wet half way through. Maybe I could touch it for just a minute? I looked around the see if anyone was near, and hiked up my skirt slightly and discreetly slipped a hand down my panties.

Eager to know what happened next, I continued reading. I had just slipped a finger past my folds when I heard a deep voice pulling me from my own world.

"And what exactly are you reading, Miss ____"

Quickly, I yanked my hand from my skirt, face as scarlet as the Gryffindor emblem on my robes. I jumped up and hid the literature behind my back.

"Nothing, Professor Snape!" A blatant lie I know, but I couldn't get caught our house points were low enough as it is.

"Nothing? Then what is that, you're hiding behind your back?" he questioned towering over me like and ominous statue, glaring down at me with those dark malicious eyes.

"Uh…home… work?" FAIL!

He leaned incredibly close to me, so close I felt his hot breath on my face, causing me to blush almost feverishly. His lips were nearly inches from mine when I sucked in my breath. Was he going to kiss me? In my moment of relapse, he abruptly ripped the book from my hands knocking me from my stupor.

Blinking, I slowly comprehended that he was now three feet away from me investigating the book. My heart sank into my stomach and I felt as if I were going to vomit. The coloring in my cheeks drained as he brought his terrifying gaze from the book to me.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor, Miss ___. And I expect you to meet me in my office after classes tonight to serve your detention. You'd better hurry to your next class. It starts soon. You don't want to be late."

With a flutter of his robes, he turned and disappeared into the deeps of the castle.

I felt weak.

'Did that just happen?' I thought to myself completely numb. He snuck up on me, took my book, and now I'm unfulfilled.

I don't know what's more embarrassing: Snape finding me touching myself to an erotic book, or the fact that he took said book. I nervously wondered if he knew what I was doing out here by myself. God, I hoped not…

"I didn't even get to finish my story…" I pouted aloud, sighing in defeat. I began to trudge back to the building sulking and glaring at everything around me.

'Wait how'd he know I have class soon?!'

EPIC FAIL!

A cat o' nine tails, or commonly shortened to "the cat," is like a whip with more tails, usually nine. The one I own has about 20 thin strips of leather. The more strips, the more stinging pain and pleasure.