The Burning Pen

A Looping of the Scales 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 41

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 41 ~ What a Girl Wants

Snape and Hermione were trembling against each other as they came up for air, Snape’s dark eyes resting on her face.

”I’m—I’m probably not going to last too long with you, Hermione,” he said softly. “I can tell from the way I feel right now—but don’t worry. I know what to do, well—I have some idea, some instruction. But I won’t do everything I was told . . .”

Hermione frowned slightly at him, her belly churning with desire.

”Instruction? Who instructed you?”

”Tom Riddle. He gave me—pointers. But, I’m not going to treat you like a whore.”

Hermione blinked at him.

”A whore? Tom Riddle said to treat women like whores?” Hermione said, her ardor cooling.

”Yes,” Snape said softly, heat in his eyes. “But, I won’t, Hermione. I promise you. He told me other things to do, things that make women feel good. He said it was important that I make a woman feel good before I do anything else, even shag her. I plan to do that, so if I don’t last, at least you will still feel good.”

Hermione stared at him, wondering what he intended to do.

”Can you tell me?” she asked him.

”I’d rather show you,” Snape said, lowering his lips to hers once more and starting to back her through his quarters, toward his bedroom. Suddenly, Hermione broke the kiss.

”What exactly does treating a woman like a whore mean?” she asked him.

Snape looked a little frustrated as she stalled.

”Voldemort said a wizard should treat a witch like a queen outside of the bedroom, and like a whore in it.”

”Why? That doesn’t seem conducive to a good relationship. Why would any woman want to be treated like a whore?”

Snape shrugged. “Some witches like it. Especially the ones who have control issues,” he told her, his head cocking slightly. Hermione certainly did have that.

Hmmm.

She knew it too. It was creepy that she was asking questions about sexual instructions given by Voldemort, but she had to admit, the wizard knew how to get things done in other areas until Harry killed him. Maybe he was on to something concerning sex, too.

”Really? How does a wizard treat a witch like—like a whore?” she asked him.

”Can we talk about this a little later, say, after we shag?” Snape asked her with a slight whine in his voice.

”I want to know,” Hermione said.

Snape expelled an aggravated breath, his brows drawn together.

“Fine. I’ll tell you what it is the way I understand it. It’s when you shag a witch like you own her. You dominate her, you tell her what to do to you and how to do it. You make her cry out, scream. You twist her body into pretzels, pull her hair, pinch her, spank her, be rough, talk dirty, make demands and generally treat her like she was only created for your own sexual pleasure,” he said to Hermione darkly. “You aren’t completely mean, however, there is some tenderness, but not overly so. That’s how you treat a woman like a whore.”

Hermione knew the minute Severus started talking that there was something definitely wrong with her. There had to be. What he described was absolutely terrible, but it turned her on so much. Dear gods, did she have whore-like tendencies deep down inside?

Maybe that’s what was missing with Ron. He didn’t take control enough. Maybe she needed a tougher, more selfish wizard.

”Ah, ok,” she said a bit hoarsely as Snape studied the new flush that crept up her face.

”That turned you on,” he said softly.

”What? No—“

”You can’t lie to me. I can smell you, and your body went all hot,” the wizard said, his eyes narrowing. “Would you like me to be that way, Hermione?”

”How can you ask me something like that?” she countered, not wanting to say yes and show him that she was damaged.

“I’m asking you because lovers give their partners not only what they want, but what they need. Is that what you need Hermione, because—because gods, I’d love to be that for you. You’re so strong and willful—I’d like to just—just—“

Snape realized he was talking too much now, and quickly stopped as Hermione looked up at him, one eyebrow arched.

“You’d just like to what?” she asked him.

Snape looked hesitant and unsure for a moment, then took a breath and told her. Now wasn’t the time to hedge, not when they were so close.

”Have you give in to me,” he said softly, “to see you let go of everything that fills that brilliant head and let me take the reins. I’d make you forget about studying, NEWTS, schedules, tutoring and everything. I’d help you—breathe again.”

He hesitated again.

“Once I get my bearings—that is,” he added, not wanting to give a big buildup and fizzle out on her in the end. “I’d have to get in a bit of practice first.”

He looked a bit put out by the admission that he wasn’t sure if he could do it right now. But, he wanted to be honest with her and not lead her on. He swallowed.

Hermione smiled at him softly. He was—dare she think it—adorable in a weird, almost scary kind of way. It was his intensity that made him a little scary. It was as if you knew everything he said, he meant.

Hermione draped her arms around his neck.

”Practice, eh? Now, where were we?” she asked him softly.

Snape looked heartened. She understood.

”Here,” he said, locking his lips to hers and once again backing her up toward his bedroom.

They slowly made their way through the quarters, Snape directing her around all the flowers and away from the candles. It wouldn’t do for her robes to ignite. Finally they made it through the door.

In his bedroom, Snape had recreated the ceiling in the Great Hall. Stars twinkled brightly above them, and candles floated, giving a warm flickering light. He had a huge four-poster bed, and had draped hanging flowers around it so they fell like curtains. A potion rested on his nightstand. There was only a dresser, a wardrobe and a wooden chair for furnishing. It was very sparse, but they didn’t need anything else.

Hermione broke the kiss and looked up at the ceiling.

”Oh, that’s beautiful, Severus. It’s like we’re under the stars,” she said, looking at him.

”I—I wanted it nice for you. I know I’m not your first, Hermione. I might not be—“

”Ssh,” she said softly. “Right now, you’re my only, Severus. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he replied thickly, kissing her again.

They stood there in the room, kissing each other, the stars twinkling down and the scent of flowers surrounding them. Severus caressed her shoulders, sides and back reverently, feeling her delicate musculature, the scent of her overpowering the flowers. He pressed against her, feeling her breasts mash against his chest and his erection press against her belly. She held him tighter as their tongues entwined and breathing became heavier.

Finally Snape broke the kiss, looking down at her, nervous as all get out but wanting to access her. He didn’t know what to say and it was daunting. He never had a problem saying what he wanted before, when he knew he wouldn’t get it then. But now—

Hermione looked up at him, feeling his nervousness and wanting to ease his worries. She’d done this before, he hadn’t.

“Tell me what to do, Severus,” she said softly, releasing him.

Snape blinked at her.

”What?” he said hoarsely.

”Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do it,” she said, feeling very powerful as he stared at her, unable to believe his ears.

”You’ll—you’ll do what I ask you?” he repeated.

She nodded.

Snape backed up from her, his eyes shifting over her almost desperately, as if he didn’t know where to start. Then he plopped down on the side of the bed, staring at her.

“You’ll do anything? Anything I ask?” he asked her to make sure.

Hermione felt the most delicious knot in her belly as she answered in the affirmative, and Snape swallowed again, his Adam’s apple rising and falling.

”All right. Take off your robes,” he said to her.

Hermione slowly began to unbutton her robes, Snape’s eyes on her hands, then flicking up to her face, before sliding down her body. He was tense, a little tick in his jaw as she parted her robes and revealed her student uniform of a white blouse, scarlet and gold plaid skirt that fell just above her knees, white ankle socks and trainers.

”I thought you wore jeans under your robes,” Snape said thickly, looking at her bare legs.

”Sometimes,” she said, folding up her robes and putting them on the chair. She stood in front of him expecting him to ask her to take off her blouse.

”Take off—your knickers,” Snape said, licking his lips.

Hermione turned a little red. Her knickers? He was going for the knickers first? Merlin.

Snape would have gone for the blouse if she were wearing jeans. But, since she was in a skirt—

Snape watched, feeling his cock swelling as Hermione lifted her skirt and pulled down her knickers. He got a glimpse of the curly brown hair between her thighs as she bent and stepped out of them. She started to put them on the chair with her robes.

”No, give them to me,” Snape said softly, extending his hand.

Her cheeks red, Hermione handed Snape her damp knickers and watched as he buried his nose in them, inhaling deeply, his eyes going hot as he scented her. He pulled them away from his nose but still held them close to his face.

”Walk around the room,” he ordered, his face slightly contorted now.

Hermione did so, feeling very vulnerable as he watched her, his dark eyes on her skirt as he imagined her naked beneath the fabric. He made a noise as his cock pulsed, jerking in his trousers. Hermione walked to the far wall, turned and walked back to the bedroom door then turned again walking back and standing in front of him again.

“Lift your skirt,” he breathed.

Hermione’s eyes cut to the right and she looked up at the stars as she lifted her skirt, showing him her goods. Snape’s eyes locked to her pussy, his nostrils flaring.

”Will you—will you touch it?” he asked her softly. “Touch the hair. Comb your fingers through it. It looks—so soft.”

Oh dear Merlin. Being with Ron was never like this. It was as if she were on display, and she felt so naughty and so turned on by him just looking at her, watching her and asking her to do things. She looked at him, then slowly brought her brought her hand to her apex and let her fingers slip through her soft pubic hair.

“Yesssss,” Snape breathed, watching the wispy brown hair curl around her fingers. “Oh yes, now—now turn around and bend over—lift your skirt. Show me your arse. Spread your legs a little—oh—oh Hermione. Just like that—“

As Hermione did what he asked she felt wetness on her inner thighs. It was as if she were playing a kinky game of “Severus Says.” This was so naughty. She didn’t think she could have ever done this with Ron. But with Severus—

“Look over your shoulder at me,” Snape hissed as he looked at her round bum and the furry vulva peeking out at him from between the cleft. Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, pushing her bushy brown hair out of the way, her face still rather red.

”You’re beautiful,” he said softly. “My gods, your arse is so round, I just want to—slap your cheek, Hermione. I want to see your arse jiggle.”

Jiggle? Merlin. She slapped her cheek and Snape’s mouth dropped open as her bum jiggled like Jell-O. Oh, he liked that.

He swallowed before he gave the next order.

“I want you to slide your fingers between the lips of your pussy,” he said in a tight voice, desire giving him the strength to say what he needed to say now. No more hedging words. “I can smell how wet you are, hot and wet, it’s like—humidity pouring off you. I want your fingers to get wet—very wet.”

Hermione closed her eyes and slowly slid her fingers through her wet folds, feeling herself getting wetter under Severus’ gaze. She liked doing this for him, and for herself. Her brown eyes fluttered at the pleasurable sensation and Snape saw this, tensing.

”Come here. Don’t wipe your fingers,” he growled.

Hermione straightened, turned and slowly walked to him, his eyes resting on her glistening fingers. She stopped in front of him and he opened his mouth, looking up at her, his eyes glittering.

She slipped them in, his lips closing softly on her hand as he suckled her fingers, his eyes going half-lidded, then closing in pleasure. His lashes were so long against his pale cheeks.

”Oh, dear Circe,” Hermione breathed, looking down at him.

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A/N: Ack! Another cliffie, but I needed a break. Sorry about yesterday. Real life issues took over, then I had a slow start this morning because I had no cherry cigarillos again. I used my extras money to cover a bill my children were supposed to pay, so I’m not well stocked on my usual writing aids. Cigarillos are important to my writing, a big part of the process Anyway, I want to give a big shoutout to my girl J*, who sent me a little change to get some. You can thank her for this scenario which came to me as I drove to the convenience store to pick them up. I get my best ideas in the car. More to come and thanks for reading.

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