The Burning Pen

When Good Wizards Go Bad
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.

CHAPTER 5

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 5 ~ Snape Returns Home

When Severus returned to his mansion, he took the stairs and went straight to his bedroom, where he disrobed and took a shower. When he emerged nude, dried off and entered his bedroom, he found Odessa stretched out in his bed, in a sheer black negligee that left little to the imagination. The witch had decided to heed the wizard's warning concerning Hermione and approach the problem another way.

Snape looked down on the witch, who struck a sultry pose, bunching her ample breasts together and looking at him sloe-eyed.

”Your resident pussy is here,” she purred at the naked wizard, her eyes falling to his cock, which remained quite flaccid.

”The resident pussy can leave,” he replied, opening his wardrobe and removing a pair of black silk pajamas and putting them on. Odessa scowled at him.

“What, you want to spend the night alone?” she asked him as he pulled on his bottoms.

”I have no intentions on spending my night alone. I just won’t be spending it with you, Odessa,” the wizard replied, shrugging on his top then turning to look at her. “I’ve already told you I will summon you when I want you. You have no business in my bed without an invitation.”

Odessa sat up now, furious.

”What? Are you going to see that skinny little chit you had delivered today?” she asked him.

Snape picked up the comb off his dresser and drew it through his hair a few times before answering the witch.

”Yes I am. She belongs to me. I intended to use her,” he replied evenly.

Odessa turned red as fire. Snape looked at her, his eyes hard.

”You’d better think twice before you open your mouth, witch,” he said to her in a dangerous voice, “I told you when you moved in here I had no commitment to you. This is just a convenient arrangement between two consenting adults. You live here rent-free, have the run of my mansion, I buy you a few trinkets and I fuck you when I feel the urge. Nothing more, nothing less. You are free to leave here at any time, Odessa, and if you piss me off, I will expel you myself, in that negligee.”

Odessa’s eyes began to glisten. Snape sighed. He didn’t have time for this.

”Odessa, think of it this way. You are delectable, like a fine filet mignon. But sometimes a man wants chuck. Now, out of my bedroom and don’t let me find you lurking in the halls outside that witch’s door. If I do, you will be looking for new accommodations,” the wizard said, pulling Odessa up by the wrist and pushing her toward the door.

”You’re a cruel bastard,” Odessa hissed, tears streaming down her face.

Snape looked at her as he slid his feet into his slippers.

”I told you that on the night we met,” he replied coldly.

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Hermione was roughly shaken awake again. She looked up to see Snape staring down at her, his black eyes resting on her exposed thigh. The nightie had ridden up while she slept.

”Wake up, witch,” he said to her in a low voice. “It’s time to thank me for my kindness in sparing you.”

Without a word, Hermione sat up on the side of the bed and looked at the wizard, her face expressionless. There was no revulsion, no terror, no reaction at all. Snape marveled at this. He would think the witch would feel a little trepidation at having to service her former teacher, not to mention the man who killed Albus Dumbledore. But she evidenced nothing.

“What do you want me to do first?” she asked him in an almost robotic voice. “Blow you?”

Snape stared down at the witch. She was cold. Unfeeling. And he felt himself becoming extremely aroused about that. Why? He had no idea. Still, he had to address this.

”A frigid whore?” he said to her, both eyebrows raised, “It’s a wonder you earned a thing.”

Hermione drew in and expelled a breath that made her sound rather tired.

”Most wizards don’t care. I imagine you’re no different,” Hermione replied.

Snape studied her.

“No I’m not,” he said, pointing to his extremely tented bottoms. “Now remove your nightie witch. I want to see the body of the whore I’ll be riding tonight.”

If Snape hoped to hurt Hermione by saying this, he failed. The witch stood up and removed her gown without comment or shame. She could no longer blush anyway.

Snape’s eyes drifted over her body. She didn’t have Odessa’s curves, but was well-formed and feminine. Her breasts were still rather perky despite the amount of handling they must have gone through, and she had a nice flare to her hips, which were slimmer than Odessa’s rounded form.

Hermione looked straight ahead, her gaze seeming to pass right through the wizard. She stood as if undergoing a ritual inspection.

And she was.

“Turn around,” Snape said in a low voice.

Hermione obediently obeyed him. His black eyes fell on the four perfect scars under her right shoulder blade.

”Bloodplay,” he said to her.

”Yes,” Hermione replied.

“Are there any other scars?” he asked her.

In response, Hermione sat down on the bed, scooted back, lay down on her back and spread her thighs. On the soft inner flesh were two small equally perfect scars, one on each leg.

Snape looked at her core, his nostrils flaring.

“Sit up,” he said.

Hermione did as he asked.

“Did you like it?” he asked her. “Did you like being cut and having a wizard suck and lick on your wounds? Did you like the taste of your own blood on his tongue?”

”It doesn’t matter if I did or not,” she replied.

”Answer me!” Snape hissed, iron in his voice.

”No. But as I said, it doesn’t matter,” the witch replied. “I did what I had to do.”

Snape stared at her in silence, completely turned on by her indifference.

“What do you think about having to fuck me?” he asked the witch.

”I knew I’d have to do it the moment I said I would come with you,” Hermione said.

”But how do you feel about it? You must feel something,” the wizard said to her.

”No. I stopped feeling anything when the first john climbed on top of me and took my virginity. I brought a good price too,” she said.

Snape thought he detected a bit of bitterness in the witch’s voice. But there was no self-pity. No self-loathing. There was nothing there but cold reality and acceptance of her plight.

Something that he understood.

“I have a feeling, Miss Granger, that I can make you feel something,” Snape said to her.

The witch let out a little snort.

”I hope you don’t think that’s because you have a big cock. I see how big the tent is. Trust me, I’ve had bigger things inside me than you,” she said, an empty look in her eyes.

Snape didn’t even blink at this. He wasn’t talking about his cock, which was fairly large. Quite large actually. He’d been known to do some damage with it. But he was talking about something else.

“We’ll see witch. Get into the bed,” he said, removing his shirt.

Hermione obediently did so, spreading her legs in readiness, that same empty look in her eyes.

Snape stepped out of his slippers and removed his bottoms, his erection springing out. He was uncircumcised, thick and had to be at least ten or eleven inches long. His cock certainly lived up to the promise of his nose. Hermione’s eyes flicked over him idly.

She didn’t even blink.

“I hope I won’t feel the sensation of sliding into a glacier,” the wizard said climbing into the bed and lying down beside the witch, tweaking a nipple.

”At least you’ll feel something,” Hermione replied tonelessly.

Snape looked at the witch. The hell with preliminaries. He wanted to fuck her and fuck her now.

It was time to mount the ice hooker.

He had something he knew that would melt her.

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A/N: Well, a bit more. Thanks for reading.

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