Chapter 14: The Beating of Severus Snape
With every lash, his body jerked, pushing his cock into the mouth in front of him.
He heard something drip and he knew it was his own blood, though he couldn't feel his back any longer. That was what the cocksucking was for: sharpening his senses to counteract the body's natural defense to go numb and, in effect, prolong the pain.
But he had long shut his mind to it. An hour into the punishment, Snape had at last gotten the Occlumency lesson he sought.
Irony.
His body jerked again as the whip struck him.
"Apologies, my boy," Lucius said behind him, as he sent the bullwhip zipping through the air again.
"Be…my…guest," Snape eked out between his locked jaw.
He knew Malfoy loved it. It didn't matter who was at the end of the whip, so long as he was swinging a length of braided leather, he was quite content. He should have been a stockman in the Outback. Perhaps when this was over, Snape could see about arranging for Transportation.
The girl pumped her hands rapidly on his shaft, swirling her tongue around his engorged head.
Malfoy sent the whip zinging.
At this point, the blowjob was more painful than the whipping, its intermittent pleasure too acute in contrast to the artless flogging against the pulpy strips that must be his back by now.
The cracking of the whip ceased into a sudden silence and Malfoy came around front to watch.
"Give him a good one, now," he said to the girl on her knees. "He's had quite a go of it."
She tilted her head, angling Snape's cock into her throat and bobbed so fast her hair was a blur as it flew over his cock. The adrenaline coursing through his body already had him poised on the edge, and as her fingers felt around his testicle, he strained against his handcuffs and prepared to release the terrible night into her throat.
"Ah, Severus."
The thin, high voice cut through the air of the dungeon as a vise seemed to grab both his mind and his balls. It nearly brought tears to his eyes. His cock felt swollen beyond its capacity, his testicles aching as he hung frozen in his restraints.
"What high hopes for you we had. Such a vouchsafe from Lucius. Glowing reviews from your colleagues."
The Dark Lord didn't bother coming into the dungeon. From the doorway he said, "Perhaps their plaudits were premature. Your judgment hasty, Lucius."
Malfoy stood in the corner, head bowed, bullwhip hanging meekly between his hands like the limp tail of a dog.
"But only I can take responsibility for this…gross miscalculation of your abilities. You simply…are not ready. How fortunate that you have such giving, sacrificial peers about you. Who would you be without them?"
The Dark Lord was suddenly in front of Snape, his pale face inches away.
"Nobody."
The word hung in the air. The Dark Lord's cold eyes held nothing in them. "Never forget what you are, half-blood."
He swept away. From the doorway he said, "Pleasure is a privilege. When next you seek it, only Lestrange will provide it. Only—if she gains it from you. After all, good deeds must be repaid."
