Vacation: After the Results...
A smutty little morsel about what happened after today's Match-Point-Results were announced: Oh! And apologies to whoever brought Harry as their guest. I'm a bit rude to him in this chapter.
Bea was having a bad day. No, not bad, wretched. She had lost the match-even though she had pinned LaBib to the floor, her swimsuit bottoms had been nicked, she couldn’t find her copy of The Pocketsize Kama Sutra, and it was raining. Needless to say, she was feeling despondent and dejected and wanted to do nothing more than curl up under the covers and hide. Everyone else was undoubtedly revelling and running about sans vêtements¸ but even the thought of seeing all those glistening male forms carousing in the rain wasn't enough to coax her from her apartments.
Sulking morosely on the bed, nursing a flute of champagne, Bea looked again at the flier, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed. It read:
The results are in from Maddie, drum roll please!
(NO Lucius! I did not mean to beat that like a drum.)
THE CHOCOLATE WRESTLING REPORT
by Maddie50
The Wrestlers:
LaBibliographe BeaBibliophile
TOTAL POINTS: 48 22
Congratulations to our winner and runner-up. Rewards shall be yours.
“Yeah right,” Bea muttered, taking another sip of the bubbly drink. “Rewards. The only rewards I’ve gotten are bruises, wedgie-burn, and a headache.”
There was a curt rap on the door and the blonde started, spilling some champagne down the front of her blouse.
“Please go away,” she called out as she unfastened the buttons and slid the material off her shoulders.
“Beatrice,” a distinctly male voice called out from the other side.
“Fuck.”
“I heard that! Now let me in.”
“No.”
“Let me in, or I’ll let myself in.”
Bea paused for a moment, weighing her options. She could grant the wizard access to her chambers and listen to him pontificate for the next hour and a half or she could sneak out the window.
The blonde made a dash for the casement, tearing open the curtains, pulling them from the curtain rod in her haste, and tugged up on the frame. It wouldn’t budge. She jerked and yanked and pulled. Suddenly, it gave way and she let out a triumphant whoop.
“I’ve noticed that the windows in this house often stick,” Severus Snape breathed in Bea’s ear, pushing the pane shut.
Bea groaned, slipping under his arm and marching purposefully towards the door. With a lazy flick of his wrist, Severus slammed it shut and locked the bolt.
“You’re uncharacteristically fussy this evening. Something on your mind? And where’s your top?”
“Oh don’t act as if you haven’t heard.”
“What? The match? Everyone is too drunk to care about... Oh.”
Severus studied the state of the room. It was decorated with green and silver crepe, and partially-deflated balloons bobbed at eye-level. The wizard distractedly brushed a streamer off his shoulder and poured a glass of champagne.
“I was supposed to win,” Bea hissed, viciously stabbing a balloon with a hairpin, wincing slightly at the loud pop. “LaBib never told me we could vote for ourselves!”
“Oh, how very like her,” Severus commented dryly, pouring himself a glass of champagne. “Lucius has taught her well.”
The blonde snorted. “Oh, I don’t think she learned that from Lucius. I think-”
“Don’t be uncharitable, Beatrice. LaBib out-Slytherin’d you.” The wizard sat down on a squashy armchair and watched amusedly as Bea began to tear down the decorations. “And she still would have won, even with those ten self-awarded points.”
“I know,” she harrumphed, offering Severus a peek of her derrière as she bent over to pick up the balloon fragments. “But I also assert that those ten points I lost with Guy should be added to my score. I didn’t punch her, I kicked her. That medieval arse probably-”
“You kicked her?” Severus strained to remember, but could only recall T’s hands...
“Of course you weren’t watching,” the blonde continued, spinning to face the wizard. “You were too busy getting your jollies off in the stands!”
Severus shrugged. “You were welcome to join us. Though, you’ve no right to be jealous. I’m not your guest.”
“I knew someone would invite you,” Bea protested. “Besides, I see enough of you during the week.”
The wizard shrugged. “Sick of me already? It’s very auspicious that there are so many obliging women in the house, or your arse would be mine.”
“It is, it is,” Bea replied testily, throwing her collection of crepe into the bin. “Well, I’m glad you weren’t bored then. Some men would be perfectly content to watch two scantily clad women rolling around in milk chocolate, but not you. You’re so effete you need a handjob and chocolate wrestling to excite you.”
“How was I supposed to refuse? ‘Oh no thank you. I’m an absolute twat and am perfectly content to just watch the match’.” Severus snorted. “Ridiculous.”
She glared at him for a moment, before throwing herself onto the bed, tucking her knees up under her chin. “I hope you ruined your trousers,” Bea mumbled.
“Why did Guy take those points away in the first place? He’s never struck me as the sort to mind foul play.”
“He isn’t,” the blonde conceded. “He and I... Well, the previous night I left him less than satisfied.”
“You left a man ‘less than satisfied’? What has gotten into you, Beatrice?”
“My name is Bea,” she snapped. “I don’t know why you insist on using my full name; no one calls me Beatrice.”
“I’ve never been particularly keen on sobriquets, Beatrice.”
“Oh really, Sev? Not too keen on sobriquets?”
Severus, fed up with her insolence and ornery disposition, lunged forward and caught the blonde around the waist. Bea slumped against him and allowed herself to be dragged to the corner of the room. The wizard pushed her unceremoniously into a chair and the girl winced as her bottom came into contact with the seat. Though it had been a few days since she had encountered Lucius and his ‘large red stick’, her bottom still smarted from the exchange.
“Less than satisfied,” Severus prompted, handing her another glass of champagne.
“Well,” Bea began, taking a gulp of the effervescent liquid. “The night before the match, he and I were together, à la grecque, if you’re interested-”
Severus pulled a face. “I’m not.”
The blonde rolled her eyes and sighed. “It was lovely. He was pleased with the arrangement, as was I, it was all set. He would turn a blind eye to any... ‘accidental’ punches or kicks or bites. But then he decides that I need to do one more thing for him. It’s tiny, really, nothing in comparison to what we’ve just done. He wants me to...”
“Wants you to what?” Severus snapped impatiently.
“He wants me to invite Potter to join us. In bed.”
The wizard coughed on the Moët and spilled some down the front of his robes.
Bea nodded solemnly. “I know. I couldn't bring myself to do it.” She twitched slightly. “Anyway, he thought I was insulting him and kicked me out. It’s not as if I’ve an aversion to threesomes-you know that, of course-just an aversion to Potter.”
“Don’t we all?” Severus returned dryly, staring intently as the blonde. The thought of her on all fours with Guy rutting behind her only served to rouse his sleeping appendage, and it had been quite hard until she mentioned Potter. It was slowly returning to its semi-erect state, though, as the blonde stood up and finished straightening up. Every wiggle, bounce, and skip was enough to tease him to an acceptable level of turgidity.
“And those other seven points?” he asked, staring at his restless cock
“What?” Bea asked distractedly, adjusting the zip of her skirt, carefully unfastening the small silver buckles on her strappy heels.
“The seven points you would’ve needed to overtake LaBib.”
The blonde flushed. “Oh, I, well...” She hadn’t considered that. “I would’ve found a way.”
“I’m sure, my Potions Slut.”
“Don’t,” she snapped, kicking off her shoes and smoothing down her hair.
“What? That is your moniker after all.”
“It was her idea, not mine.”
“It’s not as if it’s an inaccurate title.”
“I thought you weren’t keen on sobriquets, Professor.” She paused, taking a sip from her glass. “You voted for me, right?”
Severus thought for a moment. Had he? He couldn't quite remember. He was sure he had, but he couldn't recall actually casting his vote...
“You didn’t!” Bea shrieked, drawing herself up to her full height. “I knew it! You scoundrel, you blackguard. Get out, get out!”
The blonde offered Severus a hard shove before storming over to the bed and falling prone across it.
“Really, Beatrice,” the wizard drawled. “Don’t be so melodramatic. It’s just a game.”
“I wanted to win,” she pouted. “And I could have... I could have won. Say it.”
“What?”
“Say it.”
“I will not indulge your delusional little fantasies, Beatrice.” Severus paused. “Not this one, anyway.”
“Please?” She pouted, hand pressing softly against his thigh, eyes wide.
“Fine: you could have won.”
The blonde smiled triumphantly and began to hum Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture.
“You are the strangest creature.”
Bea sighed. “So, why did you come to my rooms in the first place?”
“Oh, I’d almost forgotten.” Severus flipped her over his lap, hiked up her skirt, and delivered a stinging blow to her already welted posterior.
“Why?!” Bea moaned, trying to throw herself off the tops of his thighs. He smacked her left and right cheeks in quick succession
“You shamed Slytherin house,” he drawled. “Failure is not acceptable, especially when you cheat and lose in spite of it.”
“But I won! I won!” Bea protested, whimpering as he brought him palm down against her abraded skin.
“Could have won, Beatrice” Severus corrected softly. “You could have won.”
It was small consolation for the punishment that proceeded.
END
.
Bea was having a bad day. No, not bad, wretched. She had lost the match-even though she had pinned LaBib to the floor, her swimsuit bottoms had been nicked, she couldn’t find her copy of The Pocketsize Kama Sutra, and it was raining. Needless to say, she was feeling despondent and dejected and wanted to do nothing more than curl up under the covers and hide. Everyone else was undoubtedly revelling and running about sans vêtements¸ but even the thought of seeing all those glistening male forms carousing in the rain wasn't enough to coax her from her apartments.
Sulking morosely on the bed, nursing a flute of champagne, Bea looked again at the flier, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed. It read:
The results are in from Maddie, drum roll please!
(NO Lucius! I did not mean to beat that like a drum.)
THE CHOCOLATE WRESTLING REPORT
by Maddie50
The Wrestlers:
LaBibliographe BeaBibliophile
TOTAL POINTS: 48 22
Congratulations to our winner and runner-up. Rewards shall be yours.
“Yeah right,” Bea muttered, taking another sip of the bubbly drink. “Rewards. The only rewards I’ve gotten are bruises, wedgie-burn, and a headache.”
There was a curt rap on the door and the blonde started, spilling some champagne down the front of her blouse.
“Please go away,” she called out as she unfastened the buttons and slid the material off her shoulders.
“Beatrice,” a distinctly male voice called out from the other side.
“Fuck.”
“I heard that! Now let me in.”
“No.”
“Let me in, or I’ll let myself in.”
Bea paused for a moment, weighing her options. She could grant the wizard access to her chambers and listen to him pontificate for the next hour and a half or she could sneak out the window.
The blonde made a dash for the casement, tearing open the curtains, pulling them from the curtain rod in her haste, and tugged up on the frame. It wouldn’t budge. She jerked and yanked and pulled. Suddenly, it gave way and she let out a triumphant whoop.
“I’ve noticed that the windows in this house often stick,” Severus Snape breathed in Bea’s ear, pushing the pane shut.
Bea groaned, slipping under his arm and marching purposefully towards the door. With a lazy flick of his wrist, Severus slammed it shut and locked the bolt.
“You’re uncharacteristically fussy this evening. Something on your mind? And where’s your top?”
“Oh don’t act as if you haven’t heard.”
“What? The match? Everyone is too drunk to care about... Oh.”
Severus studied the state of the room. It was decorated with green and silver crepe, and partially-deflated balloons bobbed at eye-level. The wizard distractedly brushed a streamer off his shoulder and poured a glass of champagne.
“I was supposed to win,” Bea hissed, viciously stabbing a balloon with a hairpin, wincing slightly at the loud pop. “LaBib never told me we could vote for ourselves!”
“Oh, how very like her,” Severus commented dryly, pouring himself a glass of champagne. “Lucius has taught her well.”
The blonde snorted. “Oh, I don’t think she learned that from Lucius. I think-”
“Don’t be uncharitable, Beatrice. LaBib out-Slytherin’d you.” The wizard sat down on a squashy armchair and watched amusedly as Bea began to tear down the decorations. “And she still would have won, even with those ten self-awarded points.”
“I know,” she harrumphed, offering Severus a peek of her derrière as she bent over to pick up the balloon fragments. “But I also assert that those ten points I lost with Guy should be added to my score. I didn’t punch her, I kicked her. That medieval arse probably-”
“You kicked her?” Severus strained to remember, but could only recall T’s hands...
“Of course you weren’t watching,” the blonde continued, spinning to face the wizard. “You were too busy getting your jollies off in the stands!”
Severus shrugged. “You were welcome to join us. Though, you’ve no right to be jealous. I’m not your guest.”
“I knew someone would invite you,” Bea protested. “Besides, I see enough of you during the week.”
The wizard shrugged. “Sick of me already? It’s very auspicious that there are so many obliging women in the house, or your arse would be mine.”
“It is, it is,” Bea replied testily, throwing her collection of crepe into the bin. “Well, I’m glad you weren’t bored then. Some men would be perfectly content to watch two scantily clad women rolling around in milk chocolate, but not you. You’re so effete you need a handjob and chocolate wrestling to excite you.”
“How was I supposed to refuse? ‘Oh no thank you. I’m an absolute twat and am perfectly content to just watch the match’.” Severus snorted. “Ridiculous.”
She glared at him for a moment, before throwing herself onto the bed, tucking her knees up under her chin. “I hope you ruined your trousers,” Bea mumbled.
“Why did Guy take those points away in the first place? He’s never struck me as the sort to mind foul play.”
“He isn’t,” the blonde conceded. “He and I... Well, the previous night I left him less than satisfied.”
“You left a man ‘less than satisfied’? What has gotten into you, Beatrice?”
“My name is Bea,” she snapped. “I don’t know why you insist on using my full name; no one calls me Beatrice.”
“I’ve never been particularly keen on sobriquets, Beatrice.”
“Oh really, Sev? Not too keen on sobriquets?”
Severus, fed up with her insolence and ornery disposition, lunged forward and caught the blonde around the waist. Bea slumped against him and allowed herself to be dragged to the corner of the room. The wizard pushed her unceremoniously into a chair and the girl winced as her bottom came into contact with the seat. Though it had been a few days since she had encountered Lucius and his ‘large red stick’, her bottom still smarted from the exchange.
“Less than satisfied,” Severus prompted, handing her another glass of champagne.
“Well,” Bea began, taking a gulp of the effervescent liquid. “The night before the match, he and I were together, à la grecque, if you’re interested-”
Severus pulled a face. “I’m not.”
The blonde rolled her eyes and sighed. “It was lovely. He was pleased with the arrangement, as was I, it was all set. He would turn a blind eye to any... ‘accidental’ punches or kicks or bites. But then he decides that I need to do one more thing for him. It’s tiny, really, nothing in comparison to what we’ve just done. He wants me to...”
“Wants you to what?” Severus snapped impatiently.
“He wants me to invite Potter to join us. In bed.”
The wizard coughed on the Moët and spilled some down the front of his robes.
Bea nodded solemnly. “I know. I couldn't bring myself to do it.” She twitched slightly. “Anyway, he thought I was insulting him and kicked me out. It’s not as if I’ve an aversion to threesomes-you know that, of course-just an aversion to Potter.”
“Don’t we all?” Severus returned dryly, staring intently as the blonde. The thought of her on all fours with Guy rutting behind her only served to rouse his sleeping appendage, and it had been quite hard until she mentioned Potter. It was slowly returning to its semi-erect state, though, as the blonde stood up and finished straightening up. Every wiggle, bounce, and skip was enough to tease him to an acceptable level of turgidity.
“And those other seven points?” he asked, staring at his restless cock
“What?” Bea asked distractedly, adjusting the zip of her skirt, carefully unfastening the small silver buckles on her strappy heels.
“The seven points you would’ve needed to overtake LaBib.”
The blonde flushed. “Oh, I, well...” She hadn’t considered that. “I would’ve found a way.”
“I’m sure, my Potions Slut.”
“Don’t,” she snapped, kicking off her shoes and smoothing down her hair.
“What? That is your moniker after all.”
“It was her idea, not mine.”
“It’s not as if it’s an inaccurate title.”
“I thought you weren’t keen on sobriquets, Professor.” She paused, taking a sip from her glass. “You voted for me, right?”
Severus thought for a moment. Had he? He couldn't quite remember. He was sure he had, but he couldn't recall actually casting his vote...
“You didn’t!” Bea shrieked, drawing herself up to her full height. “I knew it! You scoundrel, you blackguard. Get out, get out!”
The blonde offered Severus a hard shove before storming over to the bed and falling prone across it.
“Really, Beatrice,” the wizard drawled. “Don’t be so melodramatic. It’s just a game.”
“I wanted to win,” she pouted. “And I could have... I could have won. Say it.”
“What?”
“Say it.”
“I will not indulge your delusional little fantasies, Beatrice.” Severus paused. “Not this one, anyway.”
“Please?” She pouted, hand pressing softly against his thigh, eyes wide.
“Fine: you could have won.”
The blonde smiled triumphantly and began to hum Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture.
“You are the strangest creature.”
Bea sighed. “So, why did you come to my rooms in the first place?”
“Oh, I’d almost forgotten.” Severus flipped her over his lap, hiked up her skirt, and delivered a stinging blow to her already welted posterior.
“Why?!” Bea moaned, trying to throw herself off the tops of his thighs. He smacked her left and right cheeks in quick succession
“You shamed Slytherin house,” he drawled. “Failure is not acceptable, especially when you cheat and lose in spite of it.”
“But I won! I won!” Bea protested, whimpering as he brought him palm down against her abraded skin.
“Could have won, Beatrice” Severus corrected softly. “You could have won.”
It was small consolation for the punishment that proceeded.
END
.