The Exposure

Chapter Thirty

          It's nearly midnight when you make your way down the spiral staircase to Snape's office. Your hand hovers above the door before knocking, still nervous and a little intimidated by him and the punishment awaiting you on the other side. You lightly rap the door and it swings open after a moment, Snape sitting behind his desk, writing on rolls of parchment without looking up, his silky black tresses curtaining his face. You step inside and hug yourself against the chill of the room, your fingers anxiously drumming against your opposite upper arm as the door clicks shut behind you. You timidly wait for his acknowledgement.

          "Miss Y/n..." at last his deep voice utters, his quill still scrawling across the page. He pauses, his eyes finally baring into yours, dark and alluring, "Remove your clothing," he nods to your body, returning to his writing. "P...Professor?" You ask, unsure of yourself. "It is a simple task, Miss Y/n, one I am sure you are quite...familiar with, from what I have seen in that salacious imagination of yours," His eyes never leaving his work.

          You obey uncertainly, slipping off your shoes, your body already trembling. Your hands work the buttons on your shirt, exposing your middle. You slip off the skirt and pull your top off your shoulders. The cool air against your bare skin emanates a jolt of arousal from your core, tingles of it sparkling between your legs. Setting your clothes aside gingerly, you stand still, your hands fidgeting in front of you. "All...of your clothing," he drawls, still writing. You pause, your cheeks growing warm.

          He looks up at you with an intense, stern gaze, waiting. It makes you melt and you obey, peeling the stockings from your thighs. His attention returns to his parchment as you unfasten your bra, laying it atop the pile of clothing you've set aside. You finally step out of your black silk underwear. As you do, he lifts one arm, resting his elbow on the desk and holds out his hand toward you as he continues to write with the other. Is he...asking for my underwear?

          "I am," his quill finally coming to a halt as he looks up at you confidently, brooding behind those inky depths. His outstretched hand is still waiting.

          Your thighs tremble in response to his assertiveness, and you hesitate before handing your knickers to him. He takes them from you and pauses as he feels the wetness already dampening them, giving you a knowing look, his brow raising ever so slightly before opening his desk drawer and dropping them inside and shutting it.

          He returns the quill to its ink bottle as dark eyes look up at you, seemingly unaffected by your naked body before him. "So..." He stands from his desk, nearing you slowly, his fingers tenting as he walks around your exposed form. "We cannot have you conduct yourself with such irresponsibility all because you fail to..." he circles behind you, his fingertips lightly grazing the small of your back making you shiver and softly gasp, proving his point, "...control yourself."

          Wetness rushes to your center and you squeeze your thighs together as if to hold your arousal inside. "We're going to play a little game..." his deep voice drawls, "I will expose you to certain...provocations, and you will attempt to restrain yourself."

          You close your eyes and exhale the breath you didn't know you'd been holding, steeling yourself at his words and his deep voice filling the dungeon.

          He comes around in front of you, stepping closely so that his feet nearly straddle yours. He stands so near that his frock coat just barely grazes the tips of your nipples. He looks down at you, watching your mouth as you bite your lip. The heat from his body warms you and his scent encompasses you.

          He leans in, his mouth slowly approaching your ear, his breath warming your neck. "Let's see what a good girl you can be."

          Taking a step back from you and inviting a rush of cold to invade your bareness, Snape flicks his wand and the books and parchment clear the desk behind him, floating aside and resting in neat stacks on a nearby end table. Suddenly you feel your own body lift, levitating until you are gently settled flat on your back on the desk.