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Fic: ~Power Play~ NC-17, Part 1, Chapter 3
Title: Power Play
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: D/s, BDSM, violence, bestiality, graphic sex.
Summary: Lupin was surprised to learn of Snape’s submissive side, and stunned when the Potions Master offered that submission up as a gift to him. He grabbed it without thinking, but did the werewolf bite off more than he could chew?
Notes: Two parts - complete. A little angst, but mostly an excuse to write smut. Set in the first half of the school year after OotP, but written before HBP.
Many thanks to Odd Doll, Snegurochka, and Rayvyn for their excellent work as betas.
~~Power Play~~
Chapter 3: Breaking
Lupin was angry. He stood staring at the naked man chained to his bedroom wall, and felt resentment stiffen inside him. He hated this.
Whipping, flogging, pain inflicted for the pleasure of both the recipient and the giver was one thing, a balanced dance, fulfilling the needs of both parties. That was something Lupin would participate in, to a fair degree, but disciplinary beatings were not his thing. He much preferred to discipline his submissives differently; a restriction of freedoms and pleasures was more his style.
It was his own fault he was in this position. When Snape had displayed that black handkerchief, he was clearly stating that he was looking for heavy BDSM. Lupin was not. By coming on to Snape, Lupin had essentially lied to him. He had been so surprised to discover Snape’s inclinations, and so happy with Snape’s gift of submission, that he had ignored the not-so-minor detail that Snape’s needs were perhaps not being met.
Snape, understandably, was not happy with him, so it was really no surprise to Lupin that the other wizard was now calling him on it.
Snape had been pushing him - responding slowly to commands, giving the occasional sullen stare. Lupin knew he needed to put a stop to it, but he had waited too long. Tonight, at a meeting of the Order, Snape had been outright rude to him. That hadn’t been unheard of in their past, certainly, but Snape generally preferred to ignore Lupin, and since the start of their relationship, that had been his procedure around others. But this evening, Snape had been openly, brazenly, stunningly rude, and Lupin knew it was past time to handle the situation. He had passed Snape a note, ordering him upstairs after the meeting.
Snape had entered the room with a defiant tilt to his head and Lupin had lost no time in expressing his displeasure. He had handed Snape a ruler and told him to transfigure it into the disciplinary tool of his choice.
That was how Lupin came to be hefting a thin, flexible bamboo cane - his very least favorite tool to use, or to be on the receiving end of. The bloody thing hurt, for god’s sake, really hurt, and it could do real damage.
Snape was chained to the wall, but was standing free of its support. His arms were raised and spread, but there was slack in the chains. His back bore half a dozen angry red welts. When Lupin continued to stand, doing nothing, Snape turned his head and fixed Lupin with one bright, accusing eye. The edge of the gag he wore was just visible over his shoulder. His chin lifted, and he straightened a bit, putting even more slack in his bonds.
Damn the man! How dare he force my hand like this?
Suddenly furious, Lupin lashed out at Snape with the cane, this time using all his strength.
Snape gasped in surprise as the cane bit deep, then grunted in pain as it fell again, lower on his ribs. Lupin pulled back and slashed the pliant weapon across Snape’s buttocks, then the backs of his thighs. Snape screamed into the gag as the cane cut into the tender flesh of his legs, and he leaned against the wall for support as blood started to seep from the wounds.
Once more Lupin drew back and applied the cane with all his might across Snape’s shoulders. With a muffled groan, Snape collapsed, hanging from his bonds as the blood flowed freely from the newest strike.
Lupin threw the cane into a corner, grabbed Snape by an upper arm, and with a wave of his wand, vanished the chains and the gag. He grabbed a fistful of hair and half lifted, half flung the fainting man onto his bed, furious with himself for allowing Snape to push him into losing control.
He stomped to the bathroom before coming to sit on the side of the bed. Snape lay face down, his hands flat by his shoulders. Lupin blotted the blood with a soft cloth, then opened the jar he had brought. At the first touch of the cool cream, Snape turned his head and opened one eye.
“What is that?”
“It’s the Wound Ease you brought me months ago.”
Snape turned his face back to the pillow.
“What did you think it would be, salt?” Lupin was sarcastic in his anger.
Snape didn’t move. A flash of insight made the bile rise in the back of Lupin’s throat. That was exactly what Snape was expecting; maybe even wanting. Lupin finished spreading the cream over Snape’s insulted flesh, wrenched the lid on and slapped it down on the bedside table. He swung around and stretched out beside Snape.
Lupin extended an arm to the motionless man. “Come.”
Snape moved into the circle of his arm, resting his head on Lupin’s shoulder, draping a leg over Lupin’s thighs and sliding a hand onto Lupin’s belly. Lupin stroked his hair and scowled at the ceiling.
Snape lay as bidden, close, but somehow remote. Lupin could feel him quivering. Only once had Snape reached out for him. Only once had Snape needed him. Well, for anything besides fucking, that is. He thought about the first, the only, time he had kissed Snape. His kiss had been returned skillfully, passionately, and totally impersonally. He had not kissed Snape again.
Did Snape need anyone beyond his need for submission and pain? Did he even like anyone?
Does he like me?
Why was he here? Why did he keep coming back? Was his indifference a matter of training, or just who the man was? Did his need for pain come from within or was it taught to him by a cruel, abusive master? Or...parent?
He thought of Snape bringing him the potions after his transformation, of his halting offer of a massage. Somewhere inside that snarky, sarcastic bastard, Lupin thought there might be a different man. A man he could love. A man he could be happy with for a very long time.
Lupin sighed. What in the name of the gods was he thinking? He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t provide what this man needed. It was not in him to inflict a steady diet of pain.
“You’d better go.” Lupin was surprised to hear the words from his own mouth.
Snape rolled off the bed. He dressed rapidly, but not hurriedly. Fast enough to not incur anger if Lupin wished him gone, not so fast that it seemed he was in a rush to escape. The perfectly trained submissive.
Lupin swung his feet over the side of the bed, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees.
Ready, Snape stood by the door, waiting to be dismissed.
“I’m sorry, Severus.” Lupin looked at him sadly. “I can’t do this.” Snape’s eyes opened a fraction wider. “Don’t come back.”
There was a millisecond of hesitation, and then Snape was gone. Lupin fell back on the bed, an arm flung over his eyes.
~~
Snape pulled the door closed softly, then turned and leaned against it, the pain in his back forgotten. His head tipped back, and he stared at the water-stained ceiling of the hall. Slowly, his eyes closed, and almost imperceptibly his face, his entire body, dissolved into an expression of utter desolation.
*******************************
End of Part 1. Story continues in Part 2, Chapter 1
Title: Power Play
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: D/s, BDSM, violence, bestiality, graphic sex.
Summary: Lupin was surprised to learn of Snape’s submissive side, and stunned when the Potions Master offered that submission up as a gift to him. He grabbed it without thinking, but did the werewolf bite off more than he could chew?
Notes: Two parts - complete. A little angst, but mostly an excuse to write smut. Set in the first half of the school year after OotP, but written before HBP.
Many thanks to Odd Doll, Snegurochka, and Rayvyn for their excellent work as betas.
Chapter 3: Breaking
Lupin was angry. He stood staring at the naked man chained to his bedroom wall, and felt resentment stiffen inside him. He hated this.
Whipping, flogging, pain inflicted for the pleasure of both the recipient and the giver was one thing, a balanced dance, fulfilling the needs of both parties. That was something Lupin would participate in, to a fair degree, but disciplinary beatings were not his thing. He much preferred to discipline his submissives differently; a restriction of freedoms and pleasures was more his style.
It was his own fault he was in this position. When Snape had displayed that black handkerchief, he was clearly stating that he was looking for heavy BDSM. Lupin was not. By coming on to Snape, Lupin had essentially lied to him. He had been so surprised to discover Snape’s inclinations, and so happy with Snape’s gift of submission, that he had ignored the not-so-minor detail that Snape’s needs were perhaps not being met.
Snape, understandably, was not happy with him, so it was really no surprise to Lupin that the other wizard was now calling him on it.
Snape had been pushing him - responding slowly to commands, giving the occasional sullen stare. Lupin knew he needed to put a stop to it, but he had waited too long. Tonight, at a meeting of the Order, Snape had been outright rude to him. That hadn’t been unheard of in their past, certainly, but Snape generally preferred to ignore Lupin, and since the start of their relationship, that had been his procedure around others. But this evening, Snape had been openly, brazenly, stunningly rude, and Lupin knew it was past time to handle the situation. He had passed Snape a note, ordering him upstairs after the meeting.
Snape had entered the room with a defiant tilt to his head and Lupin had lost no time in expressing his displeasure. He had handed Snape a ruler and told him to transfigure it into the disciplinary tool of his choice.
That was how Lupin came to be hefting a thin, flexible bamboo cane - his very least favorite tool to use, or to be on the receiving end of. The bloody thing hurt, for god’s sake, really hurt, and it could do real damage.
Snape was chained to the wall, but was standing free of its support. His arms were raised and spread, but there was slack in the chains. His back bore half a dozen angry red welts. When Lupin continued to stand, doing nothing, Snape turned his head and fixed Lupin with one bright, accusing eye. The edge of the gag he wore was just visible over his shoulder. His chin lifted, and he straightened a bit, putting even more slack in his bonds.
Damn the man! How dare he force my hand like this?
Suddenly furious, Lupin lashed out at Snape with the cane, this time using all his strength.
Snape gasped in surprise as the cane bit deep, then grunted in pain as it fell again, lower on his ribs. Lupin pulled back and slashed the pliant weapon across Snape’s buttocks, then the backs of his thighs. Snape screamed into the gag as the cane cut into the tender flesh of his legs, and he leaned against the wall for support as blood started to seep from the wounds.
Once more Lupin drew back and applied the cane with all his might across Snape’s shoulders. With a muffled groan, Snape collapsed, hanging from his bonds as the blood flowed freely from the newest strike.
Lupin threw the cane into a corner, grabbed Snape by an upper arm, and with a wave of his wand, vanished the chains and the gag. He grabbed a fistful of hair and half lifted, half flung the fainting man onto his bed, furious with himself for allowing Snape to push him into losing control.
He stomped to the bathroom before coming to sit on the side of the bed. Snape lay face down, his hands flat by his shoulders. Lupin blotted the blood with a soft cloth, then opened the jar he had brought. At the first touch of the cool cream, Snape turned his head and opened one eye.
“What is that?”
“It’s the Wound Ease you brought me months ago.”
Snape turned his face back to the pillow.
“What did you think it would be, salt?” Lupin was sarcastic in his anger.
Snape didn’t move. A flash of insight made the bile rise in the back of Lupin’s throat. That was exactly what Snape was expecting; maybe even wanting. Lupin finished spreading the cream over Snape’s insulted flesh, wrenched the lid on and slapped it down on the bedside table. He swung around and stretched out beside Snape.
Lupin extended an arm to the motionless man. “Come.”
Snape moved into the circle of his arm, resting his head on Lupin’s shoulder, draping a leg over Lupin’s thighs and sliding a hand onto Lupin’s belly. Lupin stroked his hair and scowled at the ceiling.
Snape lay as bidden, close, but somehow remote. Lupin could feel him quivering. Only once had Snape reached out for him. Only once had Snape needed him. Well, for anything besides fucking, that is. He thought about the first, the only, time he had kissed Snape. His kiss had been returned skillfully, passionately, and totally impersonally. He had not kissed Snape again.
Did Snape need anyone beyond his need for submission and pain? Did he even like anyone?
Does he like me?
Why was he here? Why did he keep coming back? Was his indifference a matter of training, or just who the man was? Did his need for pain come from within or was it taught to him by a cruel, abusive master? Or...parent?
He thought of Snape bringing him the potions after his transformation, of his halting offer of a massage. Somewhere inside that snarky, sarcastic bastard, Lupin thought there might be a different man. A man he could love. A man he could be happy with for a very long time.
Lupin sighed. What in the name of the gods was he thinking? He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t provide what this man needed. It was not in him to inflict a steady diet of pain.
“You’d better go.” Lupin was surprised to hear the words from his own mouth.
Snape rolled off the bed. He dressed rapidly, but not hurriedly. Fast enough to not incur anger if Lupin wished him gone, not so fast that it seemed he was in a rush to escape. The perfectly trained submissive.
Lupin swung his feet over the side of the bed, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees.
Ready, Snape stood by the door, waiting to be dismissed.
“I’m sorry, Severus.” Lupin looked at him sadly. “I can’t do this.” Snape’s eyes opened a fraction wider. “Don’t come back.”
There was a millisecond of hesitation, and then Snape was gone. Lupin fell back on the bed, an arm flung over his eyes.
Snape pulled the door closed softly, then turned and leaned against it, the pain in his back forgotten. His head tipped back, and he stared at the water-stained ceiling of the hall. Slowly, his eyes closed, and almost imperceptibly his face, his entire body, dissolved into an expression of utter desolation.
*******************************
End of Part 1. Story continues in Part 2, Chapter 1