The Burning Pen
Professor Snape Bangs Again
by Ruth Solomon
The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence. Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately. You are not welcome here. The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
Chapter 12 ~ Saturday Morning Duties
The next morning while sleeping, Hermione was aware of something quite heavy and warm hitting the side of her face lightly. She groaned, and felt it strike her again, harder this time. She opened her eyes and looked straight at the pale, muscular thighs of the Potions Master, who was leaning across the twin bed, one hand against the wall, the other grasping his swollen cock and hitting her in the face with it.
"Good morning," he purred, hitting her on the cheek with his morning hard-on. "Open up, Hermione. My morning erection needs relief. I'll be quick, I assure you."
Hermione blinked up at him, barely registering what he was saying, and got slapped in the face again with his huge cock. It hurt this time.
"Turn your head and open your mouth, witch," the wizard hissed, scowling now as he shook his cock at her.
Hermione could smell the maleness of him as she complied, turning her head slightly and opening her mouth. The Professor stuffed his cock into it urgently, groaning. He started thrusting immediately, his eyes closing with pleasure as he released his shaft and brought his other hand to the wall, using it for support as he buried the head of his organ into the witch's mouth.
"Use your hands, witch," he hissed looking down at her. Mmm, she looked good with her hair wild and her mouth stretched around his cock.
"Quite a mouthful before breakfast, eh Hermione?" he said in a low voice, grunting as he sped up and Hermione sucked him hard, her small hands moving up and down his shaft, spreading her saliva. Severus threw his head back and pumped into her mouth several more times before stiffening and ejaculating.
"Arrrrrrgh!" he groaned, his pale face contorting almost as if he were in pain, his black eyes glaring down at the witch as his come filled her mouth.
Hermione knew to swallow, and she did…all of it this time without spilling a drop, sucking on the wizard's cock like it was a straw. Severus loved it. He began to deflate, and pulled his sated organ out of the witch's mouth.
"That's better for you than a muggle protein shake in the morning," he said smirking, his eyes drifting down her body before turning to the mirror.
"Oh, and by the way, if you want bedding for the duration of your stay here, witch, keep it on the bed where it belongs. Don't cover up that mirror again," he growled.
"Yes, sir," Hermione replied, still in the same position she was when she gave him his morning blowjob.
Severus looked at her steadily, and she saw his cock noticeably bounce and decided to get up before he fucked her again. She was starving. And she hurt. The Potions Master had given her good sex, but it still stung afterwards. She felt a bit raw from his sizable shaft rubbing against her walls, and the rim of the entrance to her pussy just plain hurt.
The witch looked toward the nightstand and saw there were three bottles of pain and healing potions resting there. So he had thought about her condition. But she doubted it was actually concern. Most likely he wanted to keep her in good fucking order. She sat up, the wizard looking at her with satisfaction.
"Get yourself a shower, and do something with your hair. You look like a cavewoman," he said brusquely. Actually he liked the way she looked, like she'd been in a brawl, but he would never tell her that. "I'll go make breakfast. You have a busy morning ahead of you. Come to the kitchen when you're done."
Hermione bit back a reply saying she looked this way because he beat her with his club several times within a few hours, but didn't. Instead she rolled out of the tiny twin bed, walked into the bathroom, closed the door and immediately sat on the loo.
"Ow," the witch said as her hot pee stung her soft inner skin.
The wizard grinned a bit as he heard her exclaim and listened to the slow, stilted trickle of her piss hitting the loo before he left the bedroom. That had to burn. She should have drunk the potion before she went to the bathroom. Well, live and learn.
Hermione exited the bathroom to find the Professor gone. Good. He was a randy bastard. The witch drank down the potions and immediately felt better, the soreness disappearing immediately. She noticed the potions were a bit thicker than normal. It was probably the Potions Master's own brew.
She returned to the bathroom and took a nice long shower, standing under the hot spray and taking her time washing, careful not to get her hair too wet, but when she ran her hand through it, she realized there was dry, flaky come in it from her being inverted in the chair the day before and not swallowing all the wizard's release. The Professor had scourgified her body and the bed, but not her hair. So she washed it with the jasmine scented shampoo.
The shampoo must have been charmed because when she rinsed it out, her hair became soft, curling and mostly dry, falling over her shoulders gently. Hermione wouldn't need to brush it or anything. Wow. She wondered if she could persuade him to give her another bottle of this to take back to Hogwarts.
Hermione exited the shower and dried herself off. She then made up her bed then headed for the kitchen. The witch was starving and rather thirsty. The smell of ham reached her nostrils before she even reached the living room. She followed her nose and entered the kitchen. The Professor had on a pair of black silk boxers, his muscular, scarred back facing her as he busily scrambled eggs in a pan. A pile of ham sat on the table, alongside a stack of buttered toast with jam and two pitchers, one fill with pumpkin juice, the other with rich, creamy milk.
She looked back at the busy wizard, and for the first time clearly saw his Dark Mark on his forearm, a serpent coiling out of the open mouth of a skull. She shuddered for a moment as his dangerous role as a double spy settled into her psyche. For all she knew, she could be the last woman the Potions Master ever touched. Voldemort could discover and kill him at any time. He lived such a dangerous and uncertain life.
Hermione sat down at the table and looked at what was ready. Her mouth watered but she didn't dare fill the plate that rested in front of her. He probably had some kind of thing about eating together. She was right.
The Potions Master scraped the eggs on to a plate and carried them over to the small table. He walked over to Hermione and put almost half on her plate, then the rest on his own. He sat down.
"Help yourself," he said to the witch, spearing some ham with his fork.
Hermione did, piling ham and toast on her plate, pouring a tall glass of milk, then tucking into her food as if she hadn't eaten for a week.
Severus watched as the witch put the food away quickly, chewing loudly and sucking her fingers. Well, at least she appreciated his cooking. He consumed his own food slowly, though he too was very hungry.
Hermione's plate was empty and she eyed the last piece of ham.
"Can I have that last piece of ham, Severus?" she asked him, reaching out with her fork.
"No. It's mine," he replied, food still on his plate, "You've eaten enough. Don't be a glutton."
Hermione seethed. She wasn't being a glutton, she was hungry. Angry, she rose, intending on going back to her room until he needed her.
"Sit back down. You haven't been excused," the Professor snarled at her.
Hermione sat back down, her eyes on the wizard.
Unperturbed, Severus took his time finishing his meal, reaching out and stabbing his fork into the last slice of ham, folding a piece of jam and toast around it, and consuming it slowly, savoring it exaggeratedly as the witch watched, licking her lips unconsciously. Finally the Potions Master finished, wiping his hands and mouth with a napkin, then leaning back in his chair, patting his stomach.
"A good hearty breakfast," he said, his eyes resting on the witch consideringly. Then he said, "Go over to the far counter, retrieve that package there, bring it back here and open it," he said to her.
Hermione looked at the counter and saw a very small package wrapped with string on it. She stood up and walked over to it, the Professor eyeing her petite body as she walked, his dark eyes first resting on her long shining hair and buttocks when she walked away, then her breasts and thighs as she returned. She put the package on the table, sat down and opened it. She stared at the contents, then looked at the Professor.
"What's this?" she asked the wizard, scowling.
"That is your uniform for today," he said as she picked up a rather tiny white apron with lace around the edges, and what looked like a scullery maid's hat.
"Put them on," the wizard ordered. "You will clean and serve me today."
"What?" Hermione said incredulously.
"My house has not been properly dusted in ages. Since you are here, you might as well do it while I catch up on my reading. I have several trade magazines I must go through this morning, and I don't want you idling about. So you will clean and bring me what I want for the duration," Severus said evenly. "Whatever I want."
"I'm not your maid," Hermione said, frowning at the wizard, whose eyes took on a rather dangerous light.
"You are whatever I say you are for this weekend, Hermione. Either you obey me or go back to Hogwarts and wait for your failing grade," he responded, his nostrils pulsating with anger.
Hermione's eyes flashed at him.
He didn't care.
"Put them on!" he said roughly.
Hermione sighed and stood up, tying the apron around her waist and pulling on the maid's hat.
"Tuck your hair into the hat so it doesn't get in the way," the wizard said.
Hermione snatched the hat off her head in bad temper, twisted her hair and piled in on top of her head, then pulled the hat on.
"Spin slowly for me," the wizard said.
Hermione did so. Severus liked what he saw.
"Fine," he said, standing up and walking past her. "Start with the breakfast dishes. I want the cabinets emptied, wiped down and the dishes replaced. Then you can do the cooler and the pantry. Then mop the floor. Supplies are under the sink."
Hermione put her hands on her hips.
"You can do all of that with magic," she complained.
"I could, but I don't want to," he replied, "I'd much rather have you do it. I like the 'personal touch.' When you're done in here, you can come into the living room and dust. Trust I will be checking behind you, so do a good job."
Severus left the kitchen, the door swinging behind him.
Hermione felt like tearing the maid's hat off her head and throwing it on the floor. What a bastard he was. Not only was he treating her like his own private hooker, but his maid as well. This was some deal he'd struck up with her.
Frowning, she walked over to the cabinet under the sink and pulled it open, surprised to find an assortment of muggle cleaning supplies, complete with cloths, buckets and whatever else was needed to clean properly. They were all new.
He had planned this.
Hermione took out a pair of rubber gloves, a dish brush, sponge, brillo pad and dish detergent and set them on the counter next to the sink. She then cleared the table. The witch didn't need to scrape any plates because they had eaten everything. She stoppered the sink, added some dish soap and filled it with hot water. She put the dishes in and pulled on the rubber gloves. Using a glass she dipped up some of the soapy water and dumped it into the cast iron frying pan on the stove.
She had never expected this.
Severus picked up the stack of trade magazines on his desk. He told Hermione the truth, he did have reading to do. As a Potions Master, Severus had to keep up with the latest developments in Potions Making, such as new brewing methods, theories and discoveries, absorbing the new knowledge and using it to enhance his art. He also had to be on top of the latest developments to test and debate them with other Masters several times a year when they gathered together in conference. It was at the conferences he would love to see Hermione as a Potions Mistress, picking everything apart. It would be glorious, as well as rewarding. Hermione was his student after all. He was the one who gave her a love of potions in a matter of speaking.
Severus snorted. The witch probably wouldn't even speak to him when she was a full-fledged Potions Mistress. People had a tendency to pretend some things never happened. He suspected a weekend spent as his sex slave/maid would fall into that category.
Severus grinned wickedly. But she'd know, and he could have a lot of fun making her uncomfortable with sly references to this weekend that no one else understood.
Ah, the future would be interesting. If he had a future, that is. He probably didn't but Severus had learned not to dwell on tomorrow too much. It wasn't promised him. What was more likely to happen was that he would die a very painful death at the hands of the Dark Lord. It was better to think of today and enjoy the situation he found himself in, spending a weekend with a young, sexy witch who was completely under his power. He rarely had control over many aspects of his life, and so was quite elated to be able to lord himself over Hermione. It was a rare pleasure indeed.
The wizard walked over to the armchair in front of the fireplace, set the stack of magazines on the table, then sat down and pulled a lever on the side. The kicked back, the front lifting up. It was a recliner.
Severus heard Hermione clinking dishes around in the kitchen. It was a perversely comforting domestic sound. Better than the silence he was used to. The wizard picked up the first magazine, looking at the date it was published, then opened it…starting on the first page. He would read it cover to cover. He had a total of seven magazines to read.
After about half an hour, he bellowed for Hermione. The witch stuck her head out of the kitchen door. She had finished the dishes and emptied all the cabinets. Wisps of hair stuck out from under her cap.
"Yes, Severus?" she called, clearly irritated he had interrupted her.
"I need coffee, witch. Black," he said imperiously, his eyes narrowed. "And don't put anything 'extra' in it. I'll know."
Hermione scowled at him then withdrew her head. She walked over to the counter and looked around. She found an old fashioned percolating pot that sat on the stove. She walked to the pantry, found the coffee and set it on the kitchen table. Rinsing the pot and metal filter out, she added cold water to the pot itself. She carried it over to the table, opened the tightly rolled bag of coffee and found a small scoop in it. The coffee smelled wonderful, though she wasn't really a coffee drinker. She filled the metal filter, covered it with the thin, holed metal top and put the cover on. It had a little see-through glass top that would show when the coffee began to percolate. She set the coffeepot on the stove and turned on the flame, then went back to work.
Hermione had to admit working kept her busy, which was better than staring at four walls, waiting to be fucked again. Plus she was used to cleaning the muggle way and she wasn't a lazy witch by any means. It was almost easy to forget she was naked with an apron tied around her and wearing a scullery maid's hat. Almost. Not completely.
Presently the kitchen was filled with the scent of fresh-brewed coffee. Hermione filled a cup with the fragrant brew, placed it on a saucer and carefully carried it into the living room, where the Professor was reclining, reading his magazine. He looked up at her as she bent to place the cup on the table, her breasts swinging invitingly.
"Here's your coffee," she said, looking at him for a moment, then turning to go back to the kitchen.
"Hold it," Severus said to her, his eyes on her ass. "Come back here."
Hermione's stomach flipped. Surely he wasn't going to fuck her already. His black eyes swept over her, focusing on the little apron. He reached out and lifted it, resting his gaze on the triangle of pubic hair that announced the sweetness hidden underneath. Hermione stood there stiffly, a little heat rising in her belly as his eyes glittered a bit.
Severus looked up at her.
"Taste it," he said.
Hermione's brow furrowed. She looked down at his slightly tented boxers then at his face.
"Not that…the coffee," he said, "I want you to drink some."
"Why?" she asked him, looking at the steaming cup.
"If you don't die, I'll know it's safe to drink. There are a lot of poisonous liquids in my kitchen. I think it's safe to assume that I am not on your 'good will' list, Hermione. Now, taste it," the wizard said evenly.
Hermione frowned at him as she picked up the steaming cup of coffee.
"You really think I'd risk spending the rest of my life in Azkaban for you?" she asked him.
Severus raised one eyebrow at her.
"You're a woman, Hermione. Women do the most illogical things at times. Particularly to men. Now drink up," he responded.
Hermione sipped the coffee. She was tempted to pretend to gag and roll her eyes up as if dying a horrible death, but she set the cup back down as Severus studied her for ill effects.
"Satisfied?" she asked him.
The wizard's eyes swept down her body, making Hermione flush.
"Hardly. But I will drink the coffee. Get back to work," he said, shifting the chair forward so he was seated erect, then picking up the cup of coffee and taking a sip. He drew the cup back from his lips and looked at it appreciatively as Hermione returned to the kitchen.
Not only did the witch have a treasure trove of pleasure between her thighs, but she made a rousing good cup of coffee too.
A/N: Ooh, morning hard-on relief and maid. You're too much, Severus. A bit paranoid too, judging by the coffee incident. But better safe than sorry. Hermione could have put something very nasty in his coffee if she had a mind to. Lol. Please review.
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