Blood Sugar Baby 2
Title: Blood Sugar Baby 2/?
Author: Me
Pairing: Ginny/Snape
Warnings: Underage 'prostitution'
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2294
Summary: Ginny's first lesson
Spoilers: Nothing important
Disclaimer: J K Rowling's characters and fantasy premise. Not my own.
Notes: erotic_elves June Challenge: Porn for All! Beware of moar het. It seems to be a series of porns!
BSSM=1
<<
Blood sugar baby
Blood sugar crazy, she has it.
The corridors to the dungeons always seemed damp to Ginny, and just a little bit more magic than the rest of the castle from the centuries of potion fumes and spilt ingredients. His door stood slightly ajar, but she still had to push hard against it to swing the heavy wood open.
If she wasn't mistaken, he'd been pacing. She wasn't even late. "Good evening, Miss Weasley." He'd stopped somewhere near the second row, but swept towards his desk as she shut the door.
Ginny remained silent, but joined him at the front desk, settling on a less than comfortable stool placed by the desk for her.
"I hope you are serious about learning under my tutelage. The Dark Arts are a subtle magic that few can master. I have for you various pieces of literature from the restricted section that you will read before our next lesson." He indicated at a daunting stack of dusty books on his desk. "Spells and potions make up an enormous part of the Arts, however, you will fail to produce any results without a thorough understanding of the theory involved."
Ginny nodded. She still hadn't made a noise, and was surprised that he wasn't forcing a 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir' from her.
He was pacing again, but paused in his step. He looked uncomfortable. "Er... Tonight we will be reviewing your wand technique. Curriculum magic can be performed with gross movements that any squib could mimic, however you will need to control your wand with such grace and delicacy so as to whisper your magic into effect. The Dark Arts will not take heed to any behemoth who tries to call upon their power. Stand up."
She stood.
A flick of his wand sent the front few rows of the student benches scraping backwards. He beckoned her to the space he'd created and she complied. "The levitating charm requires fine movement. Show me."
She swished, she flicked, she incanted. He felt a twinge of annoyance that he had to deal with a student in his private lessons who was too young to learn non-verbal spells, but was mildly impressed when she levitated a heavy, solid wooden desk several feet above the floor. She set it down with a 'thunk'. She'll need better control.
"Gross movements are still required to perform some magic. Small changes in the fine movement of these spells will alter their effect. The shield charm requires gross movement. Show me." He smiled inwardly at the tone of his voice. He liked how efficiently it made the students obey. He liked the power it had.
A swirl of her arms conjoured the momentary flash of a shimmering dome around her. Again, he couldn't help scowling at her incantation. It wasn't an unpleasant sound, but it was so unnecessary.
"I will now send you two spells. One harmless and one a jinx. Allow one in. Your wand might know what to do," he sneered. She looked shocked that he was getting her to do something so new so quickly. But she nodded.
He cast his Patronus and a small tickling jinx. A flurry of arms, in her confusion, managed to raise a shield, but also blocked the Patronus.
"Again." He injected little more boredom in his voice. One should not sound too impatient.
He cast the spells again. She twirled to face the jinx that had ricocheted off the stone wall and blocked it with an improvised swish of her wand, forming a hazy wall of air. Rudimentary, but satisfactory for a novice. She turned back to face his Patronus, eyes ablaze.
As she spun, her hair fanned out in what seemed to him to be dramatic slow motion. Something delectable reached his nose, but was gone before he could identify it. He faltered. It was as if Autumn had exploded in the room as glints of red and gold swept over him like an inferno. His Patronus reflected deep in her eyes. Such concentration on her face. No, it was not the same face. It was more fierce and magnificent than anything he’d seen from such girlish features. She looked past the glowing lizard to meet his eyes.
Her hair, her expression... The intensity. He couldn't stop himself. He swooped. Grabbing her by both shoulders, he crushed his lips into hers, no less sloppy than the first time, back in the Defence classroom, but with twice the emotion. It was as if he wanted to devour her. Their wands clattered to the floor. His Patronus glowed brighter and shattered into a million shards of light. His teeth bumped against hers and bit her lip. He crudely thrust his tongue into her mouth, tasting, exploring, claiming. His grip on her arms was desperate. Desperately, he clung to her, pulling her into his body. Desperately he squeezed her as if afraid she'd pull away.
He needed to be one with her.
He stumbled to his desk, holding her against him, taking her with him. He was painfully hard. She was heartbreakingly soft. He sat her down on the desk, fingers scrambling at the buttons of her blouse. She had already loosened his pants, and they dropped silkily into a pool around his ankles. Free from its bindings, his cock sprang forth, thrusting hopefully at the white cotton of her panties. She untangled her arms from the chaos of her blouse and bra, and laid back to push her panties over her buttocks. He tugged them out of his way, and she kicked them off, not knowing where they landed.
He thrust against her. She was damp. She was hot. But she stopped him. As he rubbed his cock pleadingly and jerkily against her thigh, he felt her hand brush past, and pulled back to see her little fingers playing with the nub peeking out of the folds of pink flesh. He touched it with his thumb, and her back arched. His hand was cold. She took it in hers and rubbed his thumb against her clit until he could repeat the motions himself.
He pushed it in little circles against the bone underneath and she sighed. He ran his thumb up and down the folds shaped in a beautiful slit and she gasped. He used his fingers too, playing, pinching, kneading. The dampness of her skin was becoming slick. Her soft flesh felt burning hot against his icy hands. He pressed against the hotness and wetness and gorgeous indulgence and felt his finger slipping in. A little push and it was entirely enveloped. He could feel the slickness inside her, feel the shape of the channel, explore the texture of those walls.
He was barely aware that he'd been stroking his cock until her moan had him squeezing the life out of it in frantic arousal, and his breath caught in his throat. He had curled his finger inside her and evidently hit something precious. Her eyes were lazily half-closed, her hands running over her body like fluid, pinching a nipple, stroking her stomach. Her lips formed a perfect 'O', and he was reminded of the beautiful service it had paid his aching cock the day before.
He let go of it, hoping that the twitching pulse he could feel in his groin didn't mean that he was going to explode onto her stomach and her skirt before he had the chance to drive it inside her. Instead, his free hand joined Ginny's, and he played clumsily with her nipples before the gentle guidance of her own hands told him he was pinching too hard.
Her hands reached out for his chest. She was slightly ataxic, unable to open her eyes fully to discern where he was, as his fingers continued to thrust against that precious place he'd stumbled upon. She caught him, and her hands felt their way down to his cock, measuring its girth and weighing its engorgement. She guided it towards her pussy and Severus slipped his slick, sopping hand out of the way to grope at her hips instead.
He pushed in slowly, revelling in the gradual influx of her heat creeping up his shaft and he was finally embedded completely and magnificently inside her. She arched her back and moaned as he filled her, brushing against that precious place and hitting her depths that Dean would bruise rather than the tender caress she relished from her professor, right here, right now. He steadily withdrew, savouring the sensation of her closing in around him, and plunged back in. Each thrust added to the last as he felt her heat building up in his groin. He found a smooth rhythm that had her practically sobbing, and her hand returned to her clit to press and rub and tease. He could feel her fingers on either side of him as she explored the wet mess she'd made. He couldn't contain his grunts and groans as each thrust splashed delight all over his body. His toes were tingling. His head was swimming.
Ginny's hands were working in a blur. With a climatic yelp, she clenched around him and came. Her fluid dripped onto the desk, splattered on his groin, smeared on her thighs. He was driven deeper inside her slick pussy as she dug her heels into his buttocks, but he gladly complied as the shuddering muscles convulsed around his cock. Her chest fluttered as she moaned and cried softly but incessantly. He could catch very few coherent words, the most eloquent being "fuck" and "please" and "god yes". God yes, it was delicious.
She opened her eyes, breathing heavily, and pushed his defiant cock away. It was again an angry purple, slick and shining and hot, twitching to be sheathed again in the warmth of her body. She slid off the desk, turned, and lay across it on her stomach. The edge of the desk nestled against her hips. Severus, not missing a beat, wedged his hands under her hips and plunged back in to her hot, hot pussy. It definitely felt different from this angle. It was fucking fantastic.
The curve of her spine, the paired mounds of her buttocks framed by her little skirt, the rich, buttery velvet of her skin. He didn't dare close his eyes as he drank it all in. He pounded and pounded, celebrating in the texture and slickness of her pussy on his cock. He curled over her, pressing his body into hers and resting his forehead against her turned cheek. Her laboured breathing and the continued stream of "oh, fuck yes, please, professor, yes, right there" filled his consciousness and gave him a jolt somewhere in his chest on top of the thumping pressure in his groin.
Burying his hooked nose into her hair, he breathed in her scent. It was... He could almost place it. "I have found you," he uttered. It was her. She was there. He was immersed. Engulfed. He clenched her hips against him, barely rocking, wanting to keep in utmost contact with her as he came. He shuddered. He came, but did not ease the needy pressure as he hugged her to his body. He came as far inside her as he could reach. His arms held her crushed against his chest, his stomach, his thighs. He was so close to her. And he came.
He slid one hand down under her hip bone to the growing tufts of hair between her legs, and pressed down on her clitoris. He never lost contact, he never yielded in his pressure. As he shoved her clit against the quivering base of his cock, beating ever so slightly but oh so deliriously into her slick, warm, ravaged flesh, he could feel her pulling him in, further, further, as she contracted in intense waves around him. She let loose a exquisite whimper when she came, and his other hand found itself in her open mouth. His fingers pushed at her tongue. His hand cradled her head against his shoulder, his neck. Again, he breathed deep. Locks of her red hair were smeared across his flushed face, sticking to the film of sweat. He might have died.
He stayed where he was, buried, breathing, clutching, grasping, until she pushed gently against his chest, trying to stand. He was enormously reluctant, nuzzling her red hair as they stood, inhaling lungful after lungful of her scent. His semi-flaccid penis fell out of her, and a dribble of his come mixed with hers leaked down her thigh. She managed to pull away from him to retrieve her wand and clean up their mess. He stood swaying, eyes closed, robes plastered to his sweaty self. His pants remained tangled around his ankles, but he made no move to dress himself.
His eyes slit open. "I have found you," repeated. He staggered towards her as she fastened her bra. He caught her in his arms and breathed deep again. Something flowery. Something potent. He mingled with divinity. This was a Dark power. This was an immense power. It must be bottled. He could do it. He would try.
"What do you mean, Professor?" asked Ginny, confused. "Are we still going on with my lesson?"
"You have such potential," he murmured into her hair.
"Professor?"
He seemed to faze into consciousness then, and pushed her away as if she was clinging on to him. "Erm, yes. Tomorrow. Be at my office after your last class."
"What about tonight?"
"Not tonight."
Feeling confused and somewhat cheated, she finished dressing and collected her bag and his books. She couldn't imagine where her panties had gotten to, but she'd have to do without them for tonight.
A she dragged the dungeon door open, she glanced back to see that her professor, leaning on the desk where she'd lain, had found them. He held them ferociously against his greasy nose, his hand was brutally working his penis hard. His mouth was half open, his eyes closed. He seemed to have stopped breathing.
She decided it was best to leave him there.
Perhaps tomorrow would be more educational.
~
BSSM=1
<<
~
6x
Author: Me
Pairing: Ginny/Snape
Warnings: Underage 'prostitution'
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2294
Summary: Ginny's first lesson
Spoilers: Nothing important
Disclaimer: J K Rowling's characters and fantasy premise. Not my own.
Notes: erotic_elves June Challenge: Porn for All! Beware of moar het. It seems to be a series of porns!
BSSM=1
<<
Blood sugar baby
Blood sugar crazy, she has it.
The corridors to the dungeons always seemed damp to Ginny, and just a little bit more magic than the rest of the castle from the centuries of potion fumes and spilt ingredients. His door stood slightly ajar, but she still had to push hard against it to swing the heavy wood open.
If she wasn't mistaken, he'd been pacing. She wasn't even late. "Good evening, Miss Weasley." He'd stopped somewhere near the second row, but swept towards his desk as she shut the door.
Ginny remained silent, but joined him at the front desk, settling on a less than comfortable stool placed by the desk for her.
"I hope you are serious about learning under my tutelage. The Dark Arts are a subtle magic that few can master. I have for you various pieces of literature from the restricted section that you will read before our next lesson." He indicated at a daunting stack of dusty books on his desk. "Spells and potions make up an enormous part of the Arts, however, you will fail to produce any results without a thorough understanding of the theory involved."
Ginny nodded. She still hadn't made a noise, and was surprised that he wasn't forcing a 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir' from her.
He was pacing again, but paused in his step. He looked uncomfortable. "Er... Tonight we will be reviewing your wand technique. Curriculum magic can be performed with gross movements that any squib could mimic, however you will need to control your wand with such grace and delicacy so as to whisper your magic into effect. The Dark Arts will not take heed to any behemoth who tries to call upon their power. Stand up."
She stood.
A flick of his wand sent the front few rows of the student benches scraping backwards. He beckoned her to the space he'd created and she complied. "The levitating charm requires fine movement. Show me."
She swished, she flicked, she incanted. He felt a twinge of annoyance that he had to deal with a student in his private lessons who was too young to learn non-verbal spells, but was mildly impressed when she levitated a heavy, solid wooden desk several feet above the floor. She set it down with a 'thunk'. She'll need better control.
"Gross movements are still required to perform some magic. Small changes in the fine movement of these spells will alter their effect. The shield charm requires gross movement. Show me." He smiled inwardly at the tone of his voice. He liked how efficiently it made the students obey. He liked the power it had.
A swirl of her arms conjoured the momentary flash of a shimmering dome around her. Again, he couldn't help scowling at her incantation. It wasn't an unpleasant sound, but it was so unnecessary.
"I will now send you two spells. One harmless and one a jinx. Allow one in. Your wand might know what to do," he sneered. She looked shocked that he was getting her to do something so new so quickly. But she nodded.
He cast his Patronus and a small tickling jinx. A flurry of arms, in her confusion, managed to raise a shield, but also blocked the Patronus.
"Again." He injected little more boredom in his voice. One should not sound too impatient.
He cast the spells again. She twirled to face the jinx that had ricocheted off the stone wall and blocked it with an improvised swish of her wand, forming a hazy wall of air. Rudimentary, but satisfactory for a novice. She turned back to face his Patronus, eyes ablaze.
As she spun, her hair fanned out in what seemed to him to be dramatic slow motion. Something delectable reached his nose, but was gone before he could identify it. He faltered. It was as if Autumn had exploded in the room as glints of red and gold swept over him like an inferno. His Patronus reflected deep in her eyes. Such concentration on her face. No, it was not the same face. It was more fierce and magnificent than anything he’d seen from such girlish features. She looked past the glowing lizard to meet his eyes.
Her hair, her expression... The intensity. He couldn't stop himself. He swooped. Grabbing her by both shoulders, he crushed his lips into hers, no less sloppy than the first time, back in the Defence classroom, but with twice the emotion. It was as if he wanted to devour her. Their wands clattered to the floor. His Patronus glowed brighter and shattered into a million shards of light. His teeth bumped against hers and bit her lip. He crudely thrust his tongue into her mouth, tasting, exploring, claiming. His grip on her arms was desperate. Desperately, he clung to her, pulling her into his body. Desperately he squeezed her as if afraid she'd pull away.
He needed to be one with her.
He stumbled to his desk, holding her against him, taking her with him. He was painfully hard. She was heartbreakingly soft. He sat her down on the desk, fingers scrambling at the buttons of her blouse. She had already loosened his pants, and they dropped silkily into a pool around his ankles. Free from its bindings, his cock sprang forth, thrusting hopefully at the white cotton of her panties. She untangled her arms from the chaos of her blouse and bra, and laid back to push her panties over her buttocks. He tugged them out of his way, and she kicked them off, not knowing where they landed.
He thrust against her. She was damp. She was hot. But she stopped him. As he rubbed his cock pleadingly and jerkily against her thigh, he felt her hand brush past, and pulled back to see her little fingers playing with the nub peeking out of the folds of pink flesh. He touched it with his thumb, and her back arched. His hand was cold. She took it in hers and rubbed his thumb against her clit until he could repeat the motions himself.
He pushed it in little circles against the bone underneath and she sighed. He ran his thumb up and down the folds shaped in a beautiful slit and she gasped. He used his fingers too, playing, pinching, kneading. The dampness of her skin was becoming slick. Her soft flesh felt burning hot against his icy hands. He pressed against the hotness and wetness and gorgeous indulgence and felt his finger slipping in. A little push and it was entirely enveloped. He could feel the slickness inside her, feel the shape of the channel, explore the texture of those walls.
He was barely aware that he'd been stroking his cock until her moan had him squeezing the life out of it in frantic arousal, and his breath caught in his throat. He had curled his finger inside her and evidently hit something precious. Her eyes were lazily half-closed, her hands running over her body like fluid, pinching a nipple, stroking her stomach. Her lips formed a perfect 'O', and he was reminded of the beautiful service it had paid his aching cock the day before.
He let go of it, hoping that the twitching pulse he could feel in his groin didn't mean that he was going to explode onto her stomach and her skirt before he had the chance to drive it inside her. Instead, his free hand joined Ginny's, and he played clumsily with her nipples before the gentle guidance of her own hands told him he was pinching too hard.
Her hands reached out for his chest. She was slightly ataxic, unable to open her eyes fully to discern where he was, as his fingers continued to thrust against that precious place he'd stumbled upon. She caught him, and her hands felt their way down to his cock, measuring its girth and weighing its engorgement. She guided it towards her pussy and Severus slipped his slick, sopping hand out of the way to grope at her hips instead.
He pushed in slowly, revelling in the gradual influx of her heat creeping up his shaft and he was finally embedded completely and magnificently inside her. She arched her back and moaned as he filled her, brushing against that precious place and hitting her depths that Dean would bruise rather than the tender caress she relished from her professor, right here, right now. He steadily withdrew, savouring the sensation of her closing in around him, and plunged back in. Each thrust added to the last as he felt her heat building up in his groin. He found a smooth rhythm that had her practically sobbing, and her hand returned to her clit to press and rub and tease. He could feel her fingers on either side of him as she explored the wet mess she'd made. He couldn't contain his grunts and groans as each thrust splashed delight all over his body. His toes were tingling. His head was swimming.
Ginny's hands were working in a blur. With a climatic yelp, she clenched around him and came. Her fluid dripped onto the desk, splattered on his groin, smeared on her thighs. He was driven deeper inside her slick pussy as she dug her heels into his buttocks, but he gladly complied as the shuddering muscles convulsed around his cock. Her chest fluttered as she moaned and cried softly but incessantly. He could catch very few coherent words, the most eloquent being "fuck" and "please" and "god yes". God yes, it was delicious.
She opened her eyes, breathing heavily, and pushed his defiant cock away. It was again an angry purple, slick and shining and hot, twitching to be sheathed again in the warmth of her body. She slid off the desk, turned, and lay across it on her stomach. The edge of the desk nestled against her hips. Severus, not missing a beat, wedged his hands under her hips and plunged back in to her hot, hot pussy. It definitely felt different from this angle. It was fucking fantastic.
The curve of her spine, the paired mounds of her buttocks framed by her little skirt, the rich, buttery velvet of her skin. He didn't dare close his eyes as he drank it all in. He pounded and pounded, celebrating in the texture and slickness of her pussy on his cock. He curled over her, pressing his body into hers and resting his forehead against her turned cheek. Her laboured breathing and the continued stream of "oh, fuck yes, please, professor, yes, right there" filled his consciousness and gave him a jolt somewhere in his chest on top of the thumping pressure in his groin.
Burying his hooked nose into her hair, he breathed in her scent. It was... He could almost place it. "I have found you," he uttered. It was her. She was there. He was immersed. Engulfed. He clenched her hips against him, barely rocking, wanting to keep in utmost contact with her as he came. He shuddered. He came, but did not ease the needy pressure as he hugged her to his body. He came as far inside her as he could reach. His arms held her crushed against his chest, his stomach, his thighs. He was so close to her. And he came.
He slid one hand down under her hip bone to the growing tufts of hair between her legs, and pressed down on her clitoris. He never lost contact, he never yielded in his pressure. As he shoved her clit against the quivering base of his cock, beating ever so slightly but oh so deliriously into her slick, warm, ravaged flesh, he could feel her pulling him in, further, further, as she contracted in intense waves around him. She let loose a exquisite whimper when she came, and his other hand found itself in her open mouth. His fingers pushed at her tongue. His hand cradled her head against his shoulder, his neck. Again, he breathed deep. Locks of her red hair were smeared across his flushed face, sticking to the film of sweat. He might have died.
He stayed where he was, buried, breathing, clutching, grasping, until she pushed gently against his chest, trying to stand. He was enormously reluctant, nuzzling her red hair as they stood, inhaling lungful after lungful of her scent. His semi-flaccid penis fell out of her, and a dribble of his come mixed with hers leaked down her thigh. She managed to pull away from him to retrieve her wand and clean up their mess. He stood swaying, eyes closed, robes plastered to his sweaty self. His pants remained tangled around his ankles, but he made no move to dress himself.
His eyes slit open. "I have found you," repeated. He staggered towards her as she fastened her bra. He caught her in his arms and breathed deep again. Something flowery. Something potent. He mingled with divinity. This was a Dark power. This was an immense power. It must be bottled. He could do it. He would try.
"What do you mean, Professor?" asked Ginny, confused. "Are we still going on with my lesson?"
"You have such potential," he murmured into her hair.
"Professor?"
He seemed to faze into consciousness then, and pushed her away as if she was clinging on to him. "Erm, yes. Tomorrow. Be at my office after your last class."
"What about tonight?"
"Not tonight."
Feeling confused and somewhat cheated, she finished dressing and collected her bag and his books. She couldn't imagine where her panties had gotten to, but she'd have to do without them for tonight.
A she dragged the dungeon door open, she glanced back to see that her professor, leaning on the desk where she'd lain, had found them. He held them ferociously against his greasy nose, his hand was brutally working his penis hard. His mouth was half open, his eyes closed. He seemed to have stopped breathing.
She decided it was best to leave him there.
Perhaps tomorrow would be more educational.
~
BSSM=1
<<
~
6x