For the Potions Master's Amusement
Chapter 84: Debut, Part 2
Silence surrounded her, and peace pervaded, and jubilation rang and echoed in her with reverberating sweetness. Others encircled them—Rafe and Reggie, Hadrian and Elinore—and from behind her, forming a warm, insulating barrier, were Master Claudius, Vi, t, and Kell. And in the centre pocket of stillness were the two: Hermione Granger, accepting the extended hand while simultaneously offering obeisance, and Severus Snape, awestruck with reverence.
Then his hands were on her elbows, and he drew her to her feet. He looked down into her face, his thumbs gently caressing the skin of her arms, his eyes absorbing every detail of her appearance. She took the opportunity to look closely at him, hungry to feast herself on his beloved face. His beautifully formed lips were pressed together, as if to hold in an emotion too dangerous to let pass, lines of effort vertical slashes bracketing his mouth. He drew breath, and his nostrils flared briefly, his coal black brows arching slowly, luring to her lips a ready smile, which was reflected back to her by the crinkling at the corners of his eyes.
'Yes?' he said, the syllable wrapping itself sinuously about Hermione's senses.
'Yesss,' she breathed, and the surrounding circle of people—people who loved her—laughed, as if she were a child who had said something terribly cute.
'Indeed,' he said with mock gravity, 'but I will still require further instructions, you see.' One of his hands maintained a steadying hold upon her arm, but the other strayed to her face, fingertips brushing across her cheek. 'What do you want, Hermione?'
Her lips formed the word, but she felt momentarily too overcome to speak it aloud.
'You.'
He actually laughed, and Hermione flushed. 'Yes,' he said. 'Yes, you have procured me. Now, tell me in what way I can be of service to you.'
Her lips trembled with the sudden want of it. 'Will you brush my hair?' she said, swaying towards him. 'And then spank me with the hairbrush? And … make me come?'
His arm slid down from her arm to encompass her waist, and he held her to him lightly, as if to make sure she stayed on her feet, rather than swooning. 'I believe that will be possible, yes,' he said steadily.
A thought occurred to her. 'Unless … unless you don't have a brush appropriate for that?' She remembered with a pang the one he'd bespoke for her early on in their association, which she had left behind when she went away from Roissy House.
He did not answer her, but said, 'Pitty.'
The house-elf popped into existence at the professor's side. 'Pitty is here, Master Severus, sir!'
'Fetch the wooden box from my wardrobe,' he instructed her, and Pitty was gone.
'Are you sure you wish to disarrange your hair?' he asked, touching one rosebud with a fingertip.
'I'm sure,' Hermione answered, relishing her place against his side, basking in the warmth of his body and the scent of his aftershave and that indefinable male smell she loved so dearly.
Rafe moved onto the platform, enlarging the surface with the flick of his wand and conjuring a forest green love seat, positioning the red cushion before it with the toe of his boot. Severus took Hermione's hand and led her up onto the platform. He sat in the middle of the love seat and motioned for Hermione to situate herself on the cushion between his legs, where she subsided with a blissful sigh. She was surprised to see not only her particular friends conjuring chairs and sofas on the floor below her to watch the brushing of her hair—and the spanking to follow—but also other curious Dungeon visitors. She felt a touch of smugness to see Chassity and Ava, in their trainee collars, sitting together on a sofa and watching her with frank envy.
Pitty popped into the Dungeon again with an ebony-wood box inlaid along the top in mother-of-pearl, in a shape which looked suspiciously like the letter 'H'. The house-elf offered the box to the professor, who accepted it and removed a shape wrapped in a bit of emerald green fleece—fabric which strongly resembled the blanket in which he was used to swathe Hermione after ministering to her in his study at Hogwarts. From it he withdrew Hermione's own hairbrush, its silver back monogrammed with an 'H', and she was on her knees, looking up into his face.
'You saved my brush?' she said, touching it fondly.
'Yes,' he answered simply.
Hermione looked curiously at the box now on the loveseat beside him. 'What else is in there?' she asked, reaching to touch the inlaid 'H'.
'If you wish to have your hair brushed, then assume the appropriate position,' he said repressively, and even as Hermione was returning to her place on the cushion, Pitty Disapparated with the mysterious box. Then Severus' hands were in her hair, removing the hairpins and the white rosebuds, and Hermione luxuriated in his touch upon her scalp.
Master Claudius sat directly beneath her, as he had done while she was on display. Now Vi sat at his side on a small sofa, and he stroked her as if her skin were an animal pelt. Beneath his hands, Vi all but purred with pleasure. In an enormous armchair beside Claudius and Vi sat Rafe with his wife upon his lap, his lips at her ear and his hand between her thighs, buried in her hairless quim. Hermione had never seen such forthright displays as these from her friends before, and she was both shocked and aroused, looking away in embarrassment, then finding her eyes drawn back to the expressions on Vi's and t's faces—excitement, on the road to rapture.
'Do you see them?' Severus said, his voice pitched for her ears alone, beginning with a section of her hair to brush tangles from the ends first and working his way up to her scalp. 'They were so aroused by watching you for two hours, naked and open to their eyes, unguarded and available, that they can't help themselves—they have to touch and be touched. No, don't turn your eyes away—this is a tribute to you.'
So Hermione watched obediently, her body, primed by two hours of subspace, all ready for further arousal and responding to t's moans of pleasure and pleas to be allowed to climax, softly but firmly refused by her Master. Beside the Lestranges, under Claudius' ever more demanding hands, Vi was coming unwound, her cool, blond serenity dissolving in the chasm of passion her Master awoke in her. He had dragged her across his lap, hands busy at her nipples, though both of them still watched Hermione.
'They all wanted you,' Severus said, still speaking softly, moving to another section of her hair. 'Even your submissive sisters wanted you—wanted to rub their breasts against you, feeling their nipples harden against yours while they kissed your pretty mouth, wishing most of all to taste your fragrant cunt.'
Hermione shuddered beneath his hands, simultaneously aroused and repelled by the vision he produced of her trading caresses with her girlfriends, while under her wondering eyes, their Masters reduced them to creatures of pure passion.
'And of course, any Dominant in this room, married or otherwise, would have been proud to make this night memorable for you,' he continued, beginning on the last section of her hair, patiently detangling. 'The three D's were each one longing to fuck you on this platform—one at a time or all at once—they would have given you any boon you requested tonight.'
Now he was making full strokes from her scalp to the ends of her long brown hair, following the path of the brush with the flat of his hand, controlling the hair as effortlessly as he controlled her, reducing her to a boneless, sodden mass of longing.
'Oh my, look at Reg and Kelly,' he said, and Hermione dragged her eyes away from Master Claudius' hand, now busy between the lips of Vi's labia.
At the back of the group, in a large, armless chair, Reggie sat with Kell spread wide over his thighs, his cock out of his trousers and driving up into Kell, who faced forward, her neck arched back as she cried out, over and again, her satiny skin shiny with sweat beneath the bright Dungeon lights.
'Your friends are reaping their rewards for attending you so diligently tonight,' Severus said. 'Do you think they'll get to come many times tonight?' His hands stilled in her hair. 'How many times will you come tonight, I wonder?'
Hermione did not need his verbal instruction to know it was time to drape herself over his lap, her bottom upturned and ready. He settled her with a practiced motion, and the bristles of her hairbrush scraped lightly down from the small of her back to her upper thighs, then he turned it over and slid it up over her arse crack, the smooth surface cold on her skin.
'Spread your legs so I can smell you, little slut,' he said, and Hermione did as he asked with a whimper, his very words like the touch of his hand on her wet nether parts.
Then the first blow of the hairbrush fell on her bottom, hurting so deliciously that she moaned aloud, drawing a smattering of applause from her audience.
'That's the way to take a spanking,' a strange male voice said admiringly, but Hermione scarcely registered it. She was over the knee of the man she wanted for her Master, receiving a spanking with the hairbrush he had given her at the beginning of their relationship, and she might just as easily have been described as being in heaven.
Nothing else mattered to her.
He brought the hairbrush down on her other arse cheek, stinging that translated to pure pleasure in her brain, and she gave herself over to sensation alone. He spanked her with his usual skill, no two blows hitting the same spot consecutively, spreading the impact from right to left, from just below the small of her back, where she received the lightest smacks, to her upper thighs, with the occasional glancing blow to the lips of her cunt. Hermione squirmed beneath this treatment, crying by the fourth spank and sobbing outright by the seventh. She wanted him so badly, wanted his cock in her body, her nipples as hard as stones upon her chest, her quim so wet that she was slick between her thighs.
She was beyond the ability to speak when he turned her, cradling her back with his right arm, the weave of his trousers rough and scratchy beneath her sore buttocks. 'Feet flat on the sofa, Hermione,' he ordered her, and she obeyed, resisting the urge to grab him and rub herself on him until she climaxed. 'Good girl,' he praised as she positioned her feet. 'Now open your legs wide—I'm going to make you come.'
Hermione allowed her thighs to fall open wide, lifting her head from its slump against his shoulder and staring through tear-flooded eyes at her quim, waiting for him to begin to finger her—would she immediately orgasm? And then his left arm rose and the back of the hairbrush impacted her swollen, juice-soaked cunt, creating a loud squelching noise. Hermione jerked nearly upright in his lap, a scream torn from her throat, and the orgasm ripped through her behind the pain, roaring along nerve endings which had not forgotten how to respond to the unpredictable Severus Snape.
She heard the spontaneous applause and calls of appreciation and encouragement with which the spectators greeted her orgasm, but she was indifferent to it. The only things that mattered to her were the arms wrapping her up, the face buried in her wild hair—which was quickly reverting to its natural state, the effects of the Sleekeazy's Hair Potion negated—and the soothing, praising murmurs uttered into her ear. Hermione clung to Severus Snape, her body shaking with reaction, and then his lips were on her cheeks, kissing the salty residue away, almost lapping, as if he wished to ingest the very tears from her skin. She lifted her head slightly, reaching for him, and his lips closed over hers.
And tears were leaking from her eyes again, even as she twined her fingers in his hair, opening her mouth to his aggressively invading tongue, kissed by the man she loved and accepting his kiss with a full and happy heart for the first time in over a year. He pulled her tighter to him, her breasts flattened against his chest, one hand wrapped in the hair at her nape, the other on her hip, holding her in place above the hardening length in his trousers. Suddenly voracious, Hermione twisted in his lap, straddling his hips, her lips closing greedily around his tongue even as she rubbed her bare cunt on his trousers front.
He released her mouth, kissing her throat and marking her with a sucking love bite before his lips were at her ear. 'What do you want, nasty little girl?' he taunted, palming the globes of her arse and thrusting up against her.
Hermione moaned and squirmed. 'Fuck me,' she begged him shamelessly.
'Give me your breasts,' he replied, clearly as lost as she in the moment. 'Arch your back—put them in my face.'
And cupping her breasts in her own hands, Hermione arched her back and raised them to her lover's face, pressing them together. Severus groaned aloud, his tongue out and laving her nipple, then slurping directly across to repeat the process on the other, his head moving from side to side, from nipple to nipple. Then his fingers dipped between their bodies, sliding between her labia from above, gliding over the swollen nub of her clitoris. Hermione's hips jerked convulsively at the combined sensations, his mouth on her nipples, his fingers on her clitoris, his straining erection beneath her bum. Dimly, she was aware of the sounds of the spectators at her back, some of whom were chatting amongst themselves, some of whom were otherwise occupied with the partners of their choice, but beneath her wondering eyes was the gleaming, raven's wing blue-black of Severus' hair, swaying with his movements from breast to breast, now suckling, now licking, now biting, now sucking the milky skin beside her nipple between his teeth and marking her with deep purple love bites. And all the time, his fingers on her clitoris, rubbing in precisely the right way. Far too soon, she was beginning to crest, and he was speaking to her, his voice muffled between her breasts.
'Come, beautiful girl,' he murmured. 'Come when you will—come when you can—come as often as you like, upon your whim, for tonight is your night—and you have never been so beautiful to me as you are right now, taking your pleasure in full view of all these people.'
And Hermione shuddered into climax again, reminded of her audience and violently shamed—and thrilled—that she was rutting like a cat in heat for the entertainment of a roomful of people who were aroused by her actions. And she knew that many of them would fuck their partners or themselves tonight, remembering how she had looked and what she had done before them with Severus tonight.
She slowed, then sagged against Severus, and he brought his fingers to her mouth, fingers slick and smelling of Hermione's own juices. Without being told, she took the fingers into her mouth past the second knuckle, sucking them clean, and he ran a soothing hand down her spine as she did it, crooning into her ear, 'Such a perfect little slut—she knows exactly what to do …'
And he pulled her hand away from her mouth and kissed her, sucking each of her lips in turn, then sucking on her tongue, as if he were seeking from her mouth the taste of her quim. Hermione tightened her legs about his hips, grinding against his cock, but he urged her to the side, where she settled on the sofa, her cheek upon his chest, her eyes taking in the actions of the group of watchers … and participators. She saw that both t and Kell were on their knees on the Dungeon floor, sucking enthusiastically on their Master's cocks, whereas Vi was now astride Claudius, slowly riding her husband's cock. Hermione started to look away, but Severus forestalled her again.
'Don't turn your eyes away from them,' he said sounding slightly winded, as if he had run along distance. 'This is a tribute to you, Hermione. Have you ever seen any of them fuck in public before?'
'No,' she admitted, watching now with frank interest as Vi rose, the muscles in her thighs flexing below her perfectly smooth back, and beneath her rising bum, the thick, glistening cock of Master Claudius.
'Would you do something for someone else—a bit of a thank you?'
She tore her eyes away from Claudius and Vi, a frown between her brows. 'Do what? For whom?'
He cupped her chin, as if to prevent her escape, and he placed his lips to her ear, speaking distinctly but very softly. When he was done, he raised his head, and she looked at him, biting her lower lip.
'I don't know if I can,' she said honestly.
'Does it repulse you?' he asked calmly.
Hermione considered this. 'No,' she said, 'but I feel shy—I wouldn't know how to … approach it.'
He tucked hair behind her ear. 'I can assure you that it would be eagerly welcomed by the recipients—and I will come with you and assist.'
She offered her hand, and he took it. They stood and walked down the steps of the platform, Severus in the lead. There was a smattering of applause from watchers who were not otherwise occupied. Hermione's heart was crashing about in her chest, but at the same time, she felt sure that Severus was right—the overture would be accepted and welcomed, and it would be a fitting tribute.
They walked until they stood at the sofa where Claudius and Vi coupled, intent now upon one another—but Claudius looked up when Severus and Hermione stopped beside them, and his hand upon Vi's hip stilled her motion.
'Might Hermione provide some … assistance?' Severus asked, his tone deferential as he addressed the other Dominant.
'If it is her choice to do so,' Claudius said with a faint look of puzzlement. 'Hermione?'
Hermione leaned forward and kissed Vi's cheek. When Vi turned her wondering blue eyes on Hermione, Hermione kissed her friend's mouth for the second time that night, then knelt on the sofa beside Claudius and kissed his lips as well. 'Thank you,' she said into his ear.
And Severus, true to his word, stepped behind Violet and placed hands upon her shoulders, urging her to change her position and bracing to provide her a secure anchor. As Vi leaned back and resumed her movements, Severus assisting, Hermione lowered her face to the place where her mentor's body joined that of her training Dominant, and her tongue darted out, tasting the base of Claudius' cock, slicked with Vi's secretions. It was salty, slightly alien in flavour, but not unpleasant, and she hummed, turning her face and laving the swollen, parted lips of Vi's quim, drawing a quivering murmur from Vi. Claudius uttered a guttural groan when Vi shuddered on his cock, and one of his hands descended to stroke Hermione's head, lightly lacing in her loose hair.
With the angle between their torsos widened sufficiently, Hermione was easily able to kiss, lick, and suckle them both, their sounds of pleasure and frequent repetitions of her name all the encouragement she needed to continue, wrapping her lips around the root of Claudius penis, rising from a thatch of golden pubic hair, then turning her face to drag her tongue between Vi's labia lips, soon bringing her hands forward, seeking and finding Vi's clitoris with no trouble and applying a stroking finger to it. She was rewarded for her effort by her friend's screaming cry, followed by a mighty thrust from Claudius, his fingers convulsing in Hermione's hair as he emptied himself in his wife, their joining completed by the contributions of the girl who had lately worn their training collar—the girl who loved them both.
And Vi leaned forward to kiss Claudius, then Hermione, then Claudius again, who kissed his wife very thoroughly, then kissed Hermione with perhaps as much tenderness and passion as he felt she could accept from him, his tongue sliding against hers for only an instant before he ended the kiss, cradling her face to kiss each of her closed eyes before releasing her.
And Severus lifted her from the sofa and kissed her mouth greedily, his own arousal radiating from him in waves, washing over her. Hermione felt as if she had climbed Mount Everest, stepping outside of herself and thinking only of Claudius and Vi, giving to them what they wanted from her in that moment. She was aware that this last demonstration had drawn more interest from the people present in the Dungeon than anything else that had taken place that night. From the murmurs she heard, it seemed that though threesomes weren't particularly uncommon, having the Claudius family make a public demonstration was rare, indeed.
Severus released her, looking down into her eyes, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, he spoke in her mind.
And now?
Please take me away—I want to be alone with you.
Taking her hand, he spoke to Claudius, who was murmuring quietly with Vi, his hand running up and down her spine, up and down.
'Hermione wishes to come away with me, Claudius,' Severus said quietly. 'Do you have any objection?'
'No objections—only the reservations of any Master releasing a trainee,' Claudius replied evenly, his calming ministrations to his wife never ceasing.
And Severus inclined his head respectfully. 'Understood,' he said, and with that, Claudius seemed to be content.
Next Severus looked about the room until he saw Hadrian, standing beside Elinore's chair, just beyond the crowd. Gathering Hermione to him with a strong, possessive arm, he led her to the older couple.
'Hermione wishes to be alone with me,' he said to Hadrian, and something seemed to pass between them.
Hermione looked between the two wizards, wondering what she had missed.
Hadrian smiled warmly at Hermione, then nodded once to Severus. Elinore squeezed Hermione's hand quickly. 'Lovely debut, dear,' she said warmly.
'Are you ready?' Severus asked Hermione. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing each of her three friends curled up in the arms of their Dominants, and fiercely, she wished to emulate them.
'I'm beyond ready,' she averred, and before she could speak another word, he wrapped her in his arms and Disapparated.
