The Burning Pen

Through the Looking Glass
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 21

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 21 ~ Dark Inclinations

”Stay,” Hermione breathed up at Snape, who gave her a small, quick smile before she pulled him back down into a kiss, water splashing on his back and over his shoulders, making their bodies slippery as he possessed her mouth.

”Slow,” he told himself as Hermione moved against him reflexively, responding to the urges racing through her body. Snape grasped her waist lightly, keeping up the kiss, and slid his hands up her sides, over her upper back and shoulders and gently clasped her neck, tilting her head back and applying more skill to the kiss, nipping, licking and sucking on her lips before returning to the deep penetration of her mouth, letting her get used to the many ways his mouth could be used.

Hermione’s entire body was tingling. His hands, his kiss, his embrace were all so gentle, so soft, so smooth. She let out a sigh as the wizard’s mouth slid to her throat, his hands sliding back down, over her waist, hips and thighs now in a sweeping motion, her nipples hardening in response as he caressed her. Snape took his time, working the young witch to a frenzy, slowing down now and then until she let out a little hiss of protest and was squirming against the tiles of the shower.

”Yesssss, Miss Granger,” he said to her softly, looking into her hot, half-lidded brown eyes, seeing the desire there and answering it, his caress becoming more intimate as he smoothed his hands over her buttocks, grasping lightly, Hermione shuddering, then arching her pelvis forward, lost to the way he felt and how he made her feel. Snape began to kneel, drawing his lips down between her breasts, then under and around them, kissing and sucking her flesh lightly, not actually placing his lips on them . . . waiting . . . waiting.

Hermione let out a little sob and grasped a breast, offering it to him, feeling as if she’d go crazy if he didn’t kiss her, lick her or nibble her there. Her body was on fire. Snape obliged her, Hermione’s hands clutching his head as he took a nipple into his mouth and laved it with his tongue, one hand sliding slowly down her thigh, slipping to the soft inner flesh of it, then gently touching her core.

”Oh . . . oh!” Hermione gasped at the slight contact, pushing her pelvis forward for more, but Snape . . . he moved his hand away and continued kissing her breasts for a moment, before he stopped and looked up at the panting witch.

”Touch me, too,” he breathed. “Caress me. Let me know you want this. Let me know that my touch pleases you.”

”Oh . . . professor,” she whispered, sliding her hands over his strong shoulders, feeling the strength in them, the hardness of his body beneath his hands as he returned to her breasts, the witch sliding her hands down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he moved even lower, getting to his knees and kissing her lower belly. Hermione’s head was flung back against the wall now, eyes closed as the wizard caressed and kissed her thighs. She had never known anything that felt so wrong but so good. A part of her was telling her she shouldn’t be letting him do this, but another part responded how could she stop him from doing it when it felt so . . . so . . .

Snape stopped kissing her and gently pushed her legs wider apart, looking up at the witch to see if she protested. Hermione didn’t. She felt so hot and tingly between her legs that parting them a bit soothed her for a moment, as well as excited her. She looked down, the knot in her belly growing stronger as Snape lifted her left leg over his right shoulder, hooking it, then did the same with the other, so her core was at his mouth and her back rested against the shower wall.

He looked up at her, then parted her gently with his fingers, eyeing the bright, pink flesh of her core, and swollen little clit that greeted him. He parted her a bit more gently, Hermione gasping and trying not to wriggle as the water continued to pour over the professor and he examined the small flap of skin that protected her entrance for eighteen years. It wasn’t fully attached and his nostrils flared at the thought that it would be he who removed it.

Snape closed his eyes. He couldn’t scent Hermione because of the shower, nor could he taste her essence for the same reason, but he could touch and caress her sweet, soft core with his tongue and he did so, Hermione clutching his head tightly as she felt his tongue gently sweep over her most secret, private parts.

”Oh my gods!” she cried out as the wizard locked one arm around her thigh, and pressed his other hand to her belly, holding her in place against the wall as he began laving her carefully, looping his tongue and sucking her labia with his lips, sending ripples of pleasure through the witch.

”That’s . . . so dirty, professor,” Hermione gasped, her eyes helplessly closing as she gripped his head and whirled her pelvis to increase the sensation. Snape smiled against her and pulled his head back a bit, water pouring down his face.

”You seem to have a natural affinity for it, Miss Granger,” he said softly as she wriggled for more. “I told you it was good.”

Hermione had to agree as the wizard returned to her, taking his time and making her squeal a few octaves over “C” before he pulled away from her, lowering her legs and rising, Hermione wearing an incredulous look on her face.

He turned the shower off.

”What are you doing?” she gasped, upset. It was feeling so good . . . it was as if she were reaching a destination she had no idea she wanted to go to, then suddenly . . . the train stopped. Her frustration was visible.

”I thought it best if we go to the bed now. I’ve thought about it, and I believe it would be better for both of us if I deflowered you in a more traditional manner,” he told her, “but you still retain the extra points from the shower.”

As if that fucking mattered to Hermione at this point.

”I don’t care about the blasted points!” Hermione snapped at him.

Snape shook his head, wiping away the excess water out of his face with his hand. His black hair was stuck to his head and water dripped off his body. His erection had gone down a bit from the cold. Hermione noticed this as well, and wasn’t the least bit happy about it. It wasn’t right that they’d gone so far and she felt like this, and he just . . . just STOPPED!

There ought to be a law!

Snape smirked at Hermione, who was scowling at him as if she’d like to hit him with something.

”I don’t believe it. You’re mad at me. A virgin is mad about my sexual performance. A red-letter day to be sure,” he said teasingly. “You certainly look like your counterpart now with that face.”

”Well, I didn’t count on my extra credit involving 'coitus interruptus,'” she hissed at him.

Both of the wizard’s eyebrows rose at this statement.

”How do you even know that term?” he asked as Hermione pushed by him, opened the shower door and stepped out, grabbing a towel and violently drying her body off.

”Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I don’t know anything,” Hermione said stiffly, scrubbing at her hair with the towel now. “Such as it’s bad form to stop in the middle of sex.”

The professor exited the shower as well, and grabbed another towel off the shelf and began to dry himself. Hermione was so pissed, she didn’t realize he was at full bloom again, his cock rigid and pointing straight at her as she turned her back on him.

Snape was very amused at her little temper tantrum.

”Technically, that wasn’t sex. It was foreplay, and we’re just moving to another venue, not stopping,” he told her as he ran the towel over his long legs.

“Well, I don’t know if I want to continue now,” Hermione said, walking out of the bathroom.

Snape’s smile disappeared immediately, replaced by a scowl. He quickly walked out after her, catching her shoulder and spinning the witch to face him. Hermione thought right now, with his face pinched the way it was, and his hand lank against his head, he looked very much like her professor Snape. A very naked, angry professor Snape.

”You don’t mean that,” he hissed at her, his black eyes hard.

For a moment, Hermione felt very afraid of him. Snape looked so angry. Fear filled her brown eyes as she looked up at him. The wizard saw it and let go of her shoulder, which he had gripped relatively hard. He didn’t mean to frighten her, and he wouldn’t force her . . . but she had been responding to him so beautifully. It was clear to him that she was ready for sex. But it appeared she had the fickle nature of her counterpart as well.

”I’m sorry,” he said to her softly. “You are well within your rights to leave if you wish, Miss Granger. But I don’t understand why you would do so. This is only an interlude. Am I that . . . bad?”

Hermione had just been lashing out in her frustration. Now, as she looked up at the wizard, she was surprised and a little ashamed of herself for being so . . . immature and worse, manipulative. She had wanted him to follow her out of the bathroom. She wanted to show she had power too, especially after getting so flustered. She didn’t know she had that in her, that ability to be . . . downright mean and controlling.

Maybe she really was more like her counterpart than she knew.

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“Yessss, witch,” Snape crooned as he leaned back on one hand, his pelvis pressed forward, his fist securely wrapped around Hermione’s hair, jerking her mouth over his cock. She was making helpless gulping and gagging noises, sloppily covering his shaft in saliva.

“Now, that’s a mouth sound I like,” he said, sneering down at the red-faced witch as he stuffed her mouth and throat full of hot, hard wizard relentlessly.

Finally, she threw up and Snape threw her back on the bed, grabbing his wand off the nightstand and quickly Scourgifying up the mess. That had been nasty, but as far as he was concerned, she deserved such treatment, the heartless little slut.

Hermione sat there, panting, staring at Snape, her eyes slightly bloodshot, lipstick smeared, mascara running and her hair a mess. The Potions master approved greatly. She looked as if she’d been in a fight, and he hadn’t even started on the manipulative witch yet. This was only warm-ups.

Snape put his wand back on the night stand. Hermione knew better than to try and pick it up again. Snape eyed her.

”Your make-up isn’t so attractive now, Miss Granger,” he said. “Next time I suggest you invest in some water-proof warpaint.”

”It is water-proof,” she snapped at him.

He quirked his lip at her.

“But not Potions master proof,” he purred at her.

Hermione got back to her knees and rose in the bed, looking at herself in the mirror attached to the wizard’s dresser. Dear gods, she looked as if she had two black eyes and a bloody, bruised mouth . . . not to mention stuck her finger in a Muggle socket. The rest of her was fine. A paper bag over her head would help the entire presentation immensely.

“At least you could Scourgify my make-up,” Hermione said to the wizard, whose eyes narrowed.

”I could, but I like seeing you this way. Wrecked and clownish. Not painted pretty. It’s that paint that makes anyone take a second look at you. You are no more attractive than our own Miss Granger. In fact, in comparison, she is far more attractive than you,” Snape told her matter-of-factly.

”Hmph. You forget. I’ve seen her,” Hermione said to him, “and she’s no beauty queen.”

”Beauty is fleeting. Our Miss Granger is a decent witch. She doesn’t manipulate wizards with her sexual skills and promises,” Snape told her. “If she wants something, she works for it. All in all, she is far more desirable than you could ever be.”

A week ago, Snape wouldn’t have said anything complimentary about the Hermione Granger of his world. But compared to this Hermione . . . she was of much better character and moral worth, a far better choice of witch to be involved with.

”So, why don’t you fuck her then, you bastard?” Hermione snarled at him, experiencing the unaccustomed feeling of being hurt by someone’s words for the first time she could remember. “Seems like you have wood for her.”

Snape looked at her thoughtfully. It was quite possible he would indeed find himself attracted to Hermione when she returned, simply because of his interlude with this randy little version of her. But just because he was attracted wouldn’t mean there’d ever be anything to it.

”She’d never give herself to someone like me,” he said softly, “but if she did, you could be sure I wouldn’t treat her like I will you, Miss Granger. You are an arrogant little bitch who believes you can control the entire world just by offering your rather overused twat and overworked sexual skills. That may work in the world you come from, but it doesn’t work in mine.”

”You’ve manipulated your way through life from the moment you could legally spread your legs. You say you’ve ‘been through things’ but you’ve been through nothing. You’ve controlled every sexual situation you were in. Well, you won’t control this one,” the wizard said darkly. “I intend to make you remember your night with me every time you see my double. I’ve no doubt I’m only doing to you what he’d like to, you dirty little slapper.”

“How dare you!” Hermione cried outraged, scrambling down to the end of the bed, intending on getting out of it. “I’m not going to stay here and be insulted by you . . . you ugly, scrawny, big-nosed excuse for a wizard!”

Snape was off the bed in a flash, grabbing the witch around her throat with one sinewy arm, dragging her back against his body. She elbowed him hard, making the wizard’s arm loosen and dropping, slipping free and running for the bedroom door. But it was locked and warded as she pulled on the knob.

Snape straightened, his black eyes full of malice as she turned to look at him.

”That is the last time you will fight me, witch. The last time you will punch, kick or elbow me. You will stay here and you will let me collect what was promised, and you will hear what I have to say to you,” he said dangerously. “If you try to escape me again, Miss Granger, the tortures of your world will seem nothing, nothing considered to the pain I inflict on you. As I said before, you are not in control of this. Now, either get back into that bed under your own steam, or I will put you there myself and bind you in place. Am . . . I . . . understood?”

Hermione stared at the naked wizard. He looked as if he would easily beat her to death, his face was so contorted. If she wanted a look at how the Snape in her world could be darker, and crueler, she had the perfect mirror image right here.

”I had no idea you would be like this,” she said to him softly, walking back to the bed and climbing into it from the bottom, as the wizard watched her.

”Arrogance will do that,” Snape growled, approaching the bed. “Give you the delusion you know everything about everyone, when you know nothing. My entire life is spent being manipulated by others. You are the first person I can show my displeasure to, Miss Granger . . . the first individual I can show how much I truly hated being manipulated. The sins of others will undoubtedly be thrown in for good measure. Now, on your back, and let your head hang over the edge of the bed. You haven’t learned to control your mouth yet. I’ll have to control it for you. Get over here.”

Snape stood on the side of the bed expectantly as Hermione slowly crawled toward him, turning on her back and letting her head hang over the edge of it, her hair dangling to the floor as she looked up at him.

Snape leaned over her body, holding himself over her, his cock resting on her face. He rubbed it lewdly up and down before saying, “You know what to do. Do it.”

Hermione opened her mouth and gagged as he shoved his swollen organ in as deep as he could, her hands grabbing his thighs and pushing in an effort to dislodge him, her eyes watering. After about five seconds he pulled back, looking down at the gasping witch with slitted eyes.

”I can be a nasty piece of work, Miss Granger . . . and you’re going to find that out personally,” he breathed, pressing between her lips again, fully intending on choking the mouthiness out of her, Potions master-style.

”Now suck and keep sucking until I say otherwise.”

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A/N: Whoa. Our Snape is one abusive, vindictive bastard in this story. I've never had him make a witch upchuck before.  Ew. lol. It’s different for me. Hope it didn't squick ya'll too much. Still, it’s interesting what he had to say about the real Hermione.  And our Hermione with her Snape. lol at her getting upset.  But men will piss you off at the worst times.  I don't think it's much different for a very willing virgin who's found her groove. ;)  Thanks for reading.

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