A/N: This is just a short chapter, but another taste for you!

"The book" Hermione is thinking of in this chapter is The Sensual Symmetry of Submission, the book written by Master Maximus and his submissive, t, which Professor Snape is allowing Hermione to read in his study to educate her about Dominance and submission, otherwise known as D/s.


For the Potions Master's Amusement

Chapter 17: Fantasy to Reality

Excerpt from the journal of Miss Hermione Granger:

Sunday, 23 November

Thank you for permitting me to come today, sir. As instructed, this is my report, including my method, my fantasy, and my results.

(And you were right, of course; every time the fabric of my jumper brushed over my nipples today, I thought of you and how you used me last night.)

Hermione smirked to herself. In The Sensual Symmetry of Submission, the submissive, t, referred to her Master's 'use' of her body for his pleasure. Of course, t usually got quite a bit of pleasure from it, too—but in t's mind, the purpose of their encounters was the pleasure of her master. Hermione hoped Professor Snape would note and approve her proper usage of the word.

I used my favourite toy, Number Fourteen. After bathing and applying the ointment you provided, I stretched out naked on my bed, pulled the curtains closed, and began imagining my fantasy.

I was wearing your collar, plain, black leather, with a silver disk bearing your initials as its only ornament.

Hermione had learned from her reading that a submissive was 'collared' by her master as a sign of ownership. When a submissive was collared by a Dominant, she was his submissive. Some Dominants had more than one submissive, but once a submissive was collared, she had only one Dominant. In the case of t and Master Maximus, she had become his collared submissive some time before she had become his wife. Their relationship had grown from a D/s arrangement to a romance to a marriage. According to the book, it was a fairly rare progression of events in the wizarding D/s world—most of the people involved in wizarding D/s were married to other people before they became aware of their proclivities, and divorce was less common among wizards than among Muggles—but t had been just out of school when a friend had invited her to a party where she had met Master Maximus.

Hermione enjoyed that part of the book so well that she had read through it more than once. The gathering at which t had met her master had been a 'vanilla' cocktail party. 'Vanilla' was the term D/s participants used to refer to anything unrelated to D/s. Master Maximus was older than t by several years, but she had been so strongly drawn to him that she spent her time at the party trying to chat him up, ignoring the overtures of the young wizards closer to her age. Master Maximus had been first annoyed, then amused, then intrigued by the persistent young witch. Nevertheless, when he had left the cocktail party that night, he had put her from his mind.

The young witch in question, however, had been quite determined. The mutual friend who had hosted the cocktail party had been persuaded, over time, to divulge to t what he knew about Master Maximus' hobbies and pursuits. When t had turned up next at a D/s dungeon party for wizards and witches new to the lifestyle, Master Maximus had been forced to deal with her … and in so doing, had begun the relationship which had evolved into a marriage.

Hermione shook herself from her reverie—how she loved to imagine what a wizarding dungeon party would be like! —to apply herself to writing a report so entrancing that her professor would be able to think of little else for the rest of the night.

Clad in only my collar, I was tied spread-eagle to your bed. My wrists and ankles were encased in black leather cuffs and bound to the four posts of your bedstead by blood-red ties. I was nervous but excited enough to be slick between my legs. After what seemed a very long time you entered the room. You were totally naked and completely erect. I wanted you so badly I couldn't tear my eyes away from you. You stopped at the side of the bed, near my head, and looked down at my body; as you looked, you closed your fist around your cock and you stroked yourself. I licked my lips, watching your hand, then glanced at your face, and you had a rather frightening sneer on your lips.

'What do you want, Hermione?' you said, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the head of your cock.

'Please!' I gasped. 'Please fuck me!'

You didn't speak again, but climbed upon the mattress. I was confused for a moment, expecting you to lie down on top of me, but you surprised me. You placed your knees on either side of my head.

'Open that pretty mouth,' you said to me, and when I did, you guided your cock inside.

I closed my lips over it, sucking gently and sweeping my tongue over the head, tasting for the first time the salty flavour of your arousal. I worried that I would gag, but you did not thrust deeply, keeping your movement shallow. I longed to have my hands free, to caress your naked belly and arse and legs. It was heaven to hear the sounds of pleasure you made as you teased my mouth with your cock.

Then you pulled out of my mouth and moved down my body; I was sorry to be deprived of your cock, but I had not long to wait. You knelt between my legs and pushed two fingers inside of me, then three. As you pumped your fingers in and out of my cunt, you pumped your fist on your cock. Then, without a word, you pushed your cock inside of me, filling me, stretching me, and I cried out at the sheer joy of finally having you in my body. You moved over me, licking my breasts and tonguing inside my mouth, tasting your own flavour on my tongue before bracing yourself on your arms and beginning to fuck me in earnest. You started slowly, twisting your arse and moving at different angles, then speeding up, your hips snapping hard and fast into my cunt. I was loud, too loud, crying out and vocalising every sensation; you were silent, staring down into my face, your black hair hanging down, your eyes watching me as you fucked me. Then I came, unable to hold off and make it last longer, and your climax came right after mine, your face contorting in pleasure and your breath coming out in a great gasp as I felt the hot spurt of your semen inside of me.

In that moment my restraints were released, and I wrapped my arms and my legs around you, holding you deep inside of me. You allowed yourself to sag onto me, and I kissed your shoulder and your neck, thanking you for giving me your cock and your come. You moved to the side, and I turned to kiss your mouth. 'Thank you, Master,' I said.

I orgasmed twice during this fantasy, sir. It was very satisfactory. Thank you for permitting it.

Hermione laid down her quill and resisted the urge to finger her quim, which was hot and wet. Writing the fantasy had aroused her all over again. But would he find it arousing? She didn't see how he could not, but then he often surprised her with his reactions to things. Still, she closed her journal and placed it in her drawer, wondering how long it would be before he took his journal down from its shelf to read what she had written. At any rate, he could be in no doubt that she actively fantasised about being his collared submissive—that she wanted him for her master. Surely he would at least be flattered by her regard, wouldn't he?

She had read in the book that Master Maximus had done all he could to discourage t from joining the D/s community, refusing to mentor her, in the beginning. He had publicly humiliated her and rejected her. Later, when gossip had surfaced of another Dominant in the community being unkind to t, Master Maximus had investigated the allegations, duelled the other wizard, and had him expelled from D/s wizarding society in Britain. Then he had taken t into his home and looked after her. In time, she had offered her submission to him.

Hermione rose from her desk and wandered to the window, looking out into the ghostly autumn night. It was early still, only nine o'clock on a Sunday night. What if she were to throw on her robes and go down to Professor Snape's study? Perhaps she could recount the fantasy to him in person—how could he fail to be aroused by hearing such filthy talk from her?

She sat in the window embrasure, staring out at the moonlit grounds, idly twirling a lock of bushy hair and daydreaming about those things which occupied her heart and mind. As she sat wool-gathering, she saw the massive form of Hagrid walking toward the boar-topped gates with Fang bounding along at his side. He must be going into Hogsmeade for a pint to top off his weekend, she thought.

Then another figure emerged from the deep shadows at the edge of the castle, moving into the moonlight as it glided gracefully along the path Hagrid had taken. She did not need to see how the cloak billowed about the tall, lean figure to know who else was going into Hogsmeade for a bit of totty to top off his weekend.

Feeling as if she had been punched in the stomach, Hermione turned from the window, and snatching her journal from the bedside table drawer, she ripped out the freshly written pages and hurled them into the fire.

Then she threw herself upon her bed and cried, wishing desperately that she cared as little about Severus Snape as he cared about her.

At last, she slept.


A/N: "Totty" is a British slang term which can mean a sexually attractive young woman.

Also, keep in mind that you read only a portion of Hermione's journal entry – she was required to write 2000 words, remember? And her author didn't manage that many. ;)