Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery

Chapter 48 ~ Warming Up

Severus checked the two bottles of potent wine he had sitting in a large bowl of never-ending ice. He decided to take his time with Hermione, and get her ‘loosened up’ in a manner of speaking. The witch would need all the loosening she could get.

The Potions Master was dressed in black silk pajamas and slippers, his hair tied back in a ponytail. His shirt was open, revealing his pale, muscular chest. A small wizarding wireless radio set to a classical station played quietly in the background and a few appetizers rested on a silver platter on the small table between the armchairs before the fireplace, next to the wine.

Severus figured they would sit in front of the fire and enjoy a couple of glasses of the libations he provided. Two glasses should get Hermione good and blasted, then he could get her to take the potion she needed to enable him to proceed without asking too many questions. Yes, he knew it was rather underhanded to get the witch inebriated, but hell, she’d be fine. It wasn’t as if he was taking unfair advantage of her after all. She had already agreed to participate. His pajama bottoms tented slightly.

Severus looked at the clock and scowled. An hour and a half had passed. Was the witch intentionally making him wait? A low growl issued from him as he thought how he’d end up showing his displeasure. He had a number of acts he wanted to perform on the witch while she was restrained. The idea of having Hermione completely helpless and at his mercy had him wound up like a coil. He was ready to spring.

The Potions Master started pacing.

From the rafters Raucous watched his master, intrigued by his odd dress and behavior. The raven had peered into his mind and saw what he had planned for Hermione. It was quite noisy and looked quite painful, at least initially for the witch. The raven approved. He wouldn’t disrupt his master’s plan.

There was a knock on the Potions office door. Severus already had the study wall up and strode through it. He paused a moment before opening the door. He didn’t want his displeasure at her lateness to show. He opened the door. Hermione stood there, in her silk white night robe, hair brushed and falling gently over her shoulders and smelling of jasmine.

“Come in,” Severus said gesturing to the witch.

Hermione entered and looked him over.

“You look very nice, Severus. I’ve never seen you in pajamas before.” Her eyes drifted to his lean, muscular chest, “They suit you.”

“Why thank you,” he said, taking her by the arm and escorting her into the study. He lowered the wall behind them and warded it. Then he walked her over to the armchairs. She looked at the wine and food. Music played softly.

“What is all this?” she asked him.

Severus gestured toward the armchair and she sat down.

“This,” he said, taking a bottle of wine from the bowl and artfully opening it, letting it breathe, “is our time to relax a bit. I thought it might be nice to indulge in a couple of glasses of wine before we begin. You aren’t opposed to that are you?”

“Why no. I think it’s a lovely idea,” Hermione said, smiling at him.

Normally when she arrived it was straight to the bedroom and down to business. She thought it was wonderful he wanted to spend some quality time beforehand. The Potions Master poured her a large glass of wine, then one for himself. Hermione tasted it.

“Mmm. Delicious. Fruity,” she said appreciatively, taking another sip. A rather large one.

“Yes. It has quite a little punch as well,” he said, sitting in the armchair next to her, his black eyes resting on her body for a moment before he looked up at her.

“Really?” Hermione asked. “It seems so smooth.”

“It’s much like I am, Hermione,” Severus replied, “I am also smooth, but pack quite a punch.”

His eyes glittered at her.

“Well, it doesn’t taste that strong to me,” she said stubbornly, taking another sip.

Two glasses of wine later, Hermione was up, swaying to the classical music, Severus watching her body dip and twist quietly. She was certainly loosened up. Severus decided to see what she had to say about hexing him that morning.

“Hermione, do you remember the last hex you cast on me?” he asked her.

Hermione stopped dancing and looked at him soberly a moment, then burst out laughing.

“I sure do. It was hilarious,” she laughed.

“Really?” Severus said, a brow lifted.

“One for the books. You hanging upside down, your hair and everything else dangling. Your cock was hard so it was bobbing around…oh gods,” she held her stomach. “I only wish I could have seen you drop into the chair on your head.”

Severus fought back a frown. So, she thought it had been funny did she?

“I bet you fell right on your ass,” she guffawed.

“Something like that,” he said quietly.

Hermione fell into the chair, throwing her legs up laughing.

“The dignified Severus Snape, falling on his ass. Too funny. Almost as funny as when I booby-trapped your chair to collapse in Potions class,” she giggled.

Now she was bringing up old atrocities. Keep talking witch. Juuust keep talking.

And Hermione did. She laughed about every trick and hex she had thrown his way. And the Potions Master quietly listened to each and every snicker, guffaw and giggle. He didn’t say anything as Hermione laughed herself to tears.

“It’s funny now, isn’t it?” she gasped at him.

He leveled his eyes at her. They had a dark fire in them. If she had been sober, she might have felt a little twinge of fear at the way they smoldered at her.

“Hilarious,” he responded, his expression bland.

Severus was sober. He hadn’t finished his first glass of wine but nursed it.

Hermione looked at him.

“Severus, you have the most beautiful dark eyes I’ve ever seen,” she said, “They’re so intense…especially when you’re…you know…”

“Fucking you?” he said helpfully.

“Yes,” she sighed.

Severus studied her. Yes, she was ready now…or she thought she was.

“Wait here,” he said darkly. He rose and walked into his bedroom. He came back with a bottle.

“Drink this,” he said, holding it out to her.

“What is it?” she asked him.

“It’s for the fantasy,” he said shortly.

Hermione smiled.

“Oh, if it’s for that, it must be all right,” she said, uncorking the bottle and drinking it down.

Severus smirked. Hermione had to be pretty ripped. She’d never just consume a potion without finding out the name of it and what it was supposed to do. She handed him the bottle back. Suddenly she started writhing around.

“Ooh! Ooh!” she cried, “It tickles.”

“Yes, it does,” Severus agreed, watching her movements with satisfaction.

Finally Hermione stilled.

“Wow, that felt kind of good,” she said, giving the Potions Master a sexy grin.

Severus smirked at her. He knew something that was going to feel a whole lot better. He had a bottle of sober up potion in the bedroom, a very special brew he had developed. It cleared a person’s head but allowed him or her to remember everything that was said while inebriated. He would administer it to the witch after he had her secured. Then the fun would begin. She would be horrified she had laughed about the things she had done to him. Of course, secretly she did find them funny, but she would have never told him that because he was so vengeful. By dredging up the old atrocities, she had in effect, renewed them…so Severus added those back to his list of offenses.

Severus caught Hermione by the arm securely.

“Come witch, you have a fantasy to fulfill,” he said, pulling her towards his bedroom.

“I can’t wait,” Hermione breathed.

The Potions Master looked down at her.

“Neither can I, Hermione, neither can I,” he responded.

He led the witch into the room, warded the door and plucked her wand from her robe pocket. Hermione didn’t notice. Her eyes were focused on the object in the center of the room. She walked closer to it and read the words on the sign.

“Severus, what is this?” she asked him, running her hand across the crinkled velvet upholstery. It was in Slytherin green.

“It is your restraint,” he replied, “Quite imaginative, don’t you think? You will be completely at my mercy. The original design was designed for punishment, but this one, although technically the same, is designed to keep you comfortable.”

Hermione looked at it, fascinated.

It was an old-fashioned pillory that consisted of two hinged fabric covered wooden boards that had three holes through which the head and wrists were inserted. There was a latch that would lock the wood together, holding her securely. It was quite low to the floor, and a fabric covered ottoman and thick floor cushion lay behind it, presumably for her belly and knees to rest upon. It seemed Severus designed it to suit her size. The holes were lined with soft velvet.

“This is soooo kinky,” she breathed.

“Indeed,” Severus said moving behind her, untying her robe and slipping it from her shoulders. She was wearing her short white silk nightie. He looked at her.

“This will never do,” he said, then flicked his wand at her short nightie, and it turned into a drab, gray, tattered peasant tunic whose ragged hem fell just above her knees.

“Much better,” he breathed, taking her in.

Ragged though the tunic was, it managed to show off her charms anyway. She looked like a curvaceous slave girl.

“Ready to experience my fantasy?” he asked her, leaning over her and letting his breath waft across her ear.

Hermione shuddered. She was soaked between. Her masochistic side kicked into high the moment she saw the pillory.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly.

Severus walked her behind the pillory and bent her over the small upholstered ottoman so it supported her. Her knees rested neatly on the cushion. The Potions Master opened the top part of the pillory and rested Hermione’s neck and wrists in the velvet half-holes. The pillory was quite thin, maybe an inch and a half thick, but made of strong wood beneath the fabric. The Potions Master closed the wood, and latched it. He looked at her bent over the ottoman and growled, before walking around the front of it.

“Comfortable?” he asked her.

“Actually I am,” she breathed up at him.

“Good,” Severus said with a nod, walking over to the nightstand and retrieving another small bottle. He walked back over to Hermione and knelt, opening the bottle.

“I need you to drink this. It’s sober-up potion,” he said, tilting the bottle to her mouth and letting her drink slowly.

Hermione’s head began to clear, but she was still very turned on. Severus sat down in front of her, just looking at her.

“So what are you going to do to me?” she asked him.

Severus looked at her a little while.

“Still think hexing me all those times is funny?” he asked her in a dangerous voice.

Hermione got a cold feeling in her stomach as the memory of her laughing about the hexes came back to mind. She realized that Severus had not been laughing with her. In fact, he looked quite annoyed. This wasn’t good.

“Severus, those hexes were something that happened in the heat of the moment,” Hermione said desperately, trying to repair the damage.

The Potions Master was a proud wizard after all, and she had laughed and gloated in his face, and now he had her restrained and helpless.

“This will also be something that happens in the heat of the moment,” he replied, looking at her mouth. “A few moments ago you had a lot of laughter falling out of that mouth of yours. I think its time I put something in it.”

The Potions Master rose to his knees and sidled up to her, pulling down the front of his pajamas and taking out his swollen cock. Hermione looked at it cross-eyed as he shuffled closer.

“Say ah,” he said, pushing his hips forward and sliding his cock between her lips with a growl. He caught hold of the top of the pillory and began thrusting.

“Suck me, and make it good,” he growled down at Hermione as he watched and felt his thick head and shaft pump in and out of her soft, warm mouth, “You’ve got a lot to make up for, witch, and be assured…you will make up for it all tonight.”

She couldn’t help but comply.

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A/N: Good bubertubers! Hermione is in for it now. Laughing at him! :::shaking head::: That poor witch. The wine brought it out of her. Gods, an upholstered pillory…only a really twisted mind would come up with such a thing <g>. Anyway, please review.

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The Burning Pen

Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery
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 49

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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