Title: For Her Own Good
Warning (highlight to view): For cross-gen (Tonks is of age) and dub-/non-con (you make the call).
Word Count: 1255
Summary: Both Snape and Tonks have their reasons for practicing control.
Disclaimer: This piece is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling; various publishers, including, but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books; and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: With thanks to inell for her warning beta and to calmingshoggoth for his overall beta. Written for hpqfac's 2007 event.
When he'd assigned Tonks detention, he hadn't planned this: the girl, nude and spreadeagled over his desk belly first, her thighs strapped to its legs—one with his belt, the other with his tie—her wrists, torso, neck, and right cheek held down by sticking charms. He hadn't planned on getting hard while listening to her muffled, furious curses. He hadn't planned on stripping off, himself, and stroking his prick in time to the shaking of her arse.
But then, Severus had never been one to deny an impulse.
And there's always Obliviation, he thought, his eyes focusing greedily on the sight of Tonks' glistening pudenda, so completely and gloriously exposed. Fuck. What now?
It was a stupid question. Severus had been imagining this "now" from the moment Tonks had dared to talk back to him in class—again. Still, he'd never done this to a student before, no matter the provocation, no matter his loneliness, no matter his desire, and he was the slightest bit nervous about taking the next step.
"You pathetic . . . bastard! Let me . . . go!"
Severus' hand stilled on his cock, and he moved it down to the base and squeezed. "I think not, Miss Tonks. You need a lesson in respect."
Before she could continue her stream of invective, Severus had moved forward to smack her arse, hard.
Almost at once, a rosy hand print appeared on the girl's left buttock.
"Shall we make it a matching set?" he asked, allowing the syllables to roll slowly off his tongue and smirking at Tonks' shiver in response.
"You can't . . . do—"
"But I am doing it, Miss Tonks—and you're allowing it, aren't you? Didn't put up much of a fight, did you? Slut."
He couldn't actually remember how he'd managed to bind the girl, not that it mattered.
"I did, too! I didn't ask—"
Tonks whimpered—in lust or fear, Severus couldn't tell—and he had to squeeze himself harder.
Rubbing her reddened arse with his free hand, he whispered, "'Stop', what?"
"'No, don't', what?"
"Nodon'tsir!" Tonks exclaimed, as Severus began to spank her in earnest. "SirsirSIRSIR!" she cried, in time with each smack of his palm.
Shaking with need and triumph, he quickly guided his prick between Tonks' cheeks and slid it down to rub it over the dripping folds of her cunt.
"Wha—what are you—FUCK!" Tonks shouted, as Severus ruthlessly sheathed the entirety of his thick cock inside her.
"So fucking tight and hot and good—do you like that, my little . . . snake? Is this . . . how your precious . . . Gryffindor fucks you?"
Tonks' labored gasps were the only reply Severus received.
Covering her with his body, he stretched out a hand to thread his fingers in her hair and pull it, knowing that her head wouldn't move, and thoroughly enjoying her yelp of pain. "Don't ignore me, Miss Tonks. Is. This. How. Weasley. Fucks. You?"
"N—no, never—sir," Tonks said, panting. "No one's ever . . . not like—please stop!" she begged again, as her gasps became more rapid in time with Severus' renewed thrusts.
"Don't think you . . . want me to. You . . . like this, like my cock in your cunt, like . . . it!" he shouted, as his orgasm rushed through him and his knees buckled.
Tonks whimpered as Severus fell forward on top of her. "Sel—selfish bastard," she hissed.
"No," he replied, fighting to control his breathing as he kissed his way down her spine. "'M not. . . . Want to . . . to come?"
"Not like this . . . sir. Please."
Severus wasn't sure if it was Tonks' "sir" or her "please," but he immediately released his charms and her bonds, helping her to stand before picking her up and carrying her to his bedchamber.
"Lie down on the bed on your back and grasp the headboard. If you release it at any point in what comes next, I'll stop," he said, wondering if Obliviatus would actually be necessary. She wants this. She's obeying me, obeying her Head of House. . . . Fuck.
Severus felt so drunk with sexual power and the scent of sex that his prick was already half-hard again as he watched his student—his student!—do as she was bid.
"Tell me you want this."
Tonks grunted in frustration. "Doing it, aren't I? Isn't that enough?" she spat.
It should have been, but it wasn't. Severus shook his head to clear it; it didn't help. He wondered again how matters had come to this, how he'd lost so much control so quickly.
"Well, isn't it?"
"No. Tell me. Tell me you want this—tell me what you want, Miss Tonks, or I'll stop."
"You're not actually doing anything—sir."
"Very well then. Go," he ordered, turning away.
"No! I . . . I want this, you—I want . . . ."
"Yes?" Severus asked, turning back to the bed and kneeling upon it between Tonks' splayed legs.
"You to touch me, sir," she continued, undulating her body in presentation. "To . . . lick me, my—"
Severus' fingertips trailing up Tonks' legs made her whine in frustration, and he almost laughed. "Your what? I'm not a mind reader, Miss Tonks."
"Suck it—my clit! Suck it, damn you! I want to come."
No woman had ever asked him to do that, and Severus threw himself down and latched onto Tonks' clit with his lips, completely ignoring the lack of respect the girl had just shown him.
Her response was loud and vigorous: "Too much, too much, too—no! Don't you dare stop!"
"Sir," he managed to choke out, while drowning in the scent of her, before beginning to lick the hood of her clitoris in tiny, quick, teasing strokes.
"SIR!" Tonks screamed, bringing her thighs up around his head and almost crushing him as she came.
Severus pried Tonks' spasming thighs apart and pulled her toward him, kneeling up again to rub against her pudenda without entering her.
"Oh, I, yeah, fuck—please!" she babbled. "In, in, in . . . ."
He couldn't refuse her; he slid his prick inside the girl's surprisingly tight cunt and stopped in shock as he realized that her interior muscles had begun to grasp and stroke his cock as if independent of the rest of her body.
"Fucking . . . Metamorph—I'm fucking a—oh, sweet fuck!"
Tonks laughed and gasped and shuddered, speeding her massage until Severus could do nothing but fall forward and flail in ecstasy, fighting for breath, fighting not to come, and losing any control he had left in a mindless, sticky explosion of pleasure and sweat and squeezing.
"YESSS!" he hissed, spending himself into an utterly helpless, crushing state.
He was smiling as sleep took him and a pair of small, strong hands threaded themselves into his hair.
Natalie Babbington and Nymphadora Tonks were whispering together as Severus approached the Potions classroom the following day.
"—we waited for you for thirty minutes, Tonks," Babbington was complaining. "You were supposed to study Confundus with us. You said yourself you needed more practice."
"Sorry, Nat—detention with Professor Snape, you know," Tonks replied, nodding to Severus as he drew nearer to them. "Good afternoon, sir."
Severus shivered. "You'll be sitting detention again today if you don't take your seat, Miss Tonks," he told her sternly, striding past the girls and into the classroom in confusion at his sudden, inexplicable state of arousal.
He had no memory of having given Tonks detention.
But I'd love to find an excuse to—stop that, he ordered himself.
It wasn't right, fantasizing about a student.
Especially one so capable of making you want to lose your self-control.
There would be, Severus decided then, no more detentions with Tonks that term.
For her own good.