siamese dream
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This is my first tickling story in a while, it's based on the Harry Potter series. I've noticed there are some mixed feelings about tickling stories based off this series, since there are already a few of these stories posted here...so I wanted to explain my motives in writing this. I like the character of Severus Snape from the books, and Alan Rickman plays the character in the movies with a kind of campy sadism that makes me think he's really sexy. I feel kind of sorry for the character in the books, it seems like he was just a tormented, gloomy little goth kid that grew up to be this dark master of potions and black magic, and maybe all he needs is to get laid a few times and have a sexy girl locked away in a dungeon somewhere to torment, and maybe he'd be a little happier 
I wanted to find out the names of spells and use them where I could, so I looked on some Harry Potter fansites and found a listing of spells and their uses, which is where I came across "Rictusempra". It's a tickling spell from the books, I don't know which book it was first featured in, but I'll take their word for it. I also found out there's this whole section of the web devoted to the Snape character, with tons of fanfiction stories of him doing all sorts of things, usually involving sex with a student. This makes me think that a lot of chicks (and dudes?) find him sexy for some inner reason, and that's where the tickling fantasy comes in for someone like me.
Rictusempra, incendio, alo hamora, and wingardiam leviosa are all spells from the books. The momenta flower, Affectious potion, and the character Isabelle Pearl were made up by me for the story. I mean this story purely as tickling fantasy and not to insult or degrade J.K. Rowling's books. The female character is kind of a mix of ideas, my idea of the perfect lee for any sadistic tickler...she's beautiful, passionate, smart, and enjoys being ordered around by a tall dark man in a cape with a smooth voice just a little too much And also a means for me to comment on the power men and women have over each other, sexually and romantically. The Snape character is also sort of a way for me to express an attraction to strange things that I can't always logically explain. So anyway, hope you enjoy and feel free to comment, all characters in this story are over 18, this story contains M/F tickling and sexual situations.
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Punishment
Seventh year at Hogwarts has all the students in the class feeling their brains being bombarded and overloaded with anticipation and anxiety. This is the year Isabelle Pearl had turned 18, her birthday being early in the schoolyear, her classmates celebrating or waiting to celebrate the same milestone in age. This year, so many thoughts would crowd uncomfortably in the mind of a seventh year student. Exams, the future of school-founded friendships and relationships, choosing a successful pursuit in the wizarding world to embark upon after graduation... Isabelle was quiet, studious, doing well in all her classes, a lovely and bright Ravenclaw with hip-length, shining waves of silky black hair, and soft, warm brown eyes behind thick, dark lashes, and porcelain white skin. Boys in her homeroom had never overlooked her alluring features, but most found her difficult to approach...she seemed most content alone, buried in her studies, concocting delicate potions, practicing the more difficult spells her class would be expected to have mastered by the end of the year. In conversation, she never seemed to be the initiating party, and though she would speak politely and warmly to the other students who approached her, she seemed always to be veiling some aspect of her thoughts, vague and impossible to penetrate for those who looked, hoping to learn the secret she harbored. This impression she was so gifted at leaving, while not gaining her any real enemies, had given most of her classmates an odd, uncomfortable feeling about her, and so she was, for a great deal of her school career, a loner - which she seemed to have no complaint with. It had been so since her first year at Hogwarts, and now in her final year, she felt no closer to any of them, and had no wish for them to know her more closely.
Isabelle could feel the young men's eyes that still harbored some admiration for her, sometimes their gaze brushed the back of her mind in class from the rear of the room, and she could sense the question they all had: What is it about her? What secret did she veil in her quiet, lonely existence, what can I say to make her want to tell me?
None were ever bold enough to ask her straight away, but inside, Isabelle could barely believe the answer was not completely obvious to them. Indeed, she had been mysterious and vague in her socializations with the other students, and she was hiding something, something she knew could possibly be horrible if it became common knowledge in class. Yet, how none of them had guessed it after all this time, she wasn't quite sure. Her behavior was, at times, woefully inadequate at disguising her deepest secret. Especially during his classes.
Isabelle was hopelessly, desperately infatuated with Hogwarts' potions professor, Severus Snape. Her heart would leap when he would give his approval to an essay she had written, or a particularly well-brewed potion she had concocted in class. Her insides would pound every time he passed close to her desk, his black cloak whipping behind him. She was terrified that the other students would figure out her attraction and humiliate her. Not one of them would understand what she saw in the man, Professor Snape was not at all well-liked by the students. But he had a power over her she could not explain. His stern, ominous voice detailing the assignments and expectations for their classwork would echo in her mind, the seductive tone sometimes keeping her from entirely understanding what he was trying to convey, which was horribly embarassing for her when he would call upon her to reiterate the assignment to him, only to meekly whisper back the parts she remembered and then blush furiously as he scolded her for failing to pay attention to his instructions. This was most important to her, indeed, she tried harder in Advanced Potions class than in any other, because professor Snape seemed to have a terrible disdain for students who did poorly in his classes. Above all things, she wanted to please him, and so doing well on the assignments he gave was a matter she took most seriously.
She had been reading ahead of the class in the Advanced Potions textbook and had completed the assigned work ahead of schedule, but had been working for the past few weeks on a special potion. Complicated and exhausting in the collection of necessary ingredients, she had done well on securing nearly all of the items that would be needed, and the final product would be ready in a matter of days. The potion she was working on was quite notorious, and something not allowed at Hogwarts, though a great deal of the students had found ways around the laws forbidding them to possess certain items. It was a lust potion, a powerful draught that would cause the drinker to become overwhelmed with desire, intensely attracted and aroused by the person nearest to them at the time of consumption, giving them an insatiable urge to be sexually gratified. She had already succeeded at completing the beginning form of the potion, which would be effective for about 20 minutes. The full potion would require more time, a specific ingredient for lasting power, and would be effective for 24 hours of carnal bliss.
What did she plan to do with this potion? She was unsure of ths herself. She would lamely tell herself that perhaps Professor Snape would give her an extra credit on the final exams for completing such a difficult brew, but her fantasies told a different story...she thought of ways she could sneak the potion into Snape's food or drink and then get him alone, though she knew he was likely too keen with detecting potions and suspicious of others to be tricked so easily. She would daydream of waiting at his door, fully confessing her affections and making her intentions quite clear, and then he would drink the nectar she had prepared for him, and satisfy all her deepest desires. The fantasy always ended the same way, with passionate sex, powerful feelings, vulnerability. She was in love with these dreams as much as she was in love with him.
The momenta flower was the final ingredient she needed to obtain to complete her potion. This tiny flower blooms only momentarily, as its name would suggest, and only in one place. It would blossom in the month of January, when the full moon was focused on a direct central point over the frozen Hogwarts lake. At the bottom of the lake, beneath the ice, the momenta flower would bloom for as long as the moonlight shone above it. The only way to extract the momenta flower, is to walk across the frozen lake at the correct time, find the correct location, cast a spell to melt through the ice in that spot, or cut through the ice, and give an incantation to cause the flower to pluck itself and rise to the surface of the water. Momenta flowers are dangerous to extract, but endlessly useful in giving several types of potions a great deal more potency and lasting power.
Her night had arrived. The moon was finally going to be in the needed location, at about 2 o'clock in the morning. Students were not allowed to be out of bed this late, but there were many pathways around rules at Hogwarts, many hidden staircases, secret tunnels, trap doors, lonely and forgotton passageways... she had spent many years discovering the hidden ways into and out of the school, and now in her seventh year, was an expert and slipping in and out after hours undetected.
It was a blisteringly cold night. Isabelle clutched her cloak tighty around herself as she walked quickly across the snow-covered grounds, toward the lake. The moonlight gave the lake's surface an eerie quality, like immense blackness contained inside an enormous crystal ball. The water below the ice seemed as dark and forbidding as ever, and it was difficult for her to believe a magically precious flower could bloom in this frozen, murky world. She stepped onto the ice at the lake's edge, walking carefully and lightly toward the center. When she had reached the center of the lake, she drew her wand from her robes, pointed it at the ice, and spoke "Incendio!" Immediately, the tip of her wand glowed a deep yellow, as if its tip had caught fire, and heat shot from the wand to the ice. She waved her wand in a circular direction, creating a circular hole in the ice much like one would use for ice fishing. She stepped back a few paces from the circular opening.
She raised her wand again, and spoke the first word of the incantation which would cause the momenta flower to rise to the surface, where she could easily retrieve it. However, it would appear luck was not on her side this night. She heard another sound as she spoke, louder and more chilling than her own voice. A piercing, hissing cry from the lake's surface. She fell silent and stared at the ice below her feet.
Tiny cracks were forming against the edge of the circle she had cut through the ice, cracks that were widening, reaching, coming closer and crying out with an angry shriek. She began to slowly back away, trying to be as light on her feet as she possibly could, trying to will the ice to mend and be whole again. But she had begun a chain reaction that was not stopping, and the cracks were spreading faster now, splintering, and now they had reached her, they had stretched on behind her, she looked down at her feet and could see the white lines splintering everywhere around her toes. The lake crackled and moaned, and she held her breath, and stood absolutely motionless, afraid to breathe.
It was very still for a moment, and then with a grunt of contempt, the ice began to break apart. Isabelle shrieked and turned to run, but the solid surface below her feet was falling apart, and she was plunged into the freezing water.
"Don't scream. Don't breathe.", was all she could desperately think as she was engulfed in blackness and cold, cold like she had never felt before in her life. The water was freezing, it was so cold that her entire body felt like it was on fire, like the chill was burning her skin away. Her lungs filled up with an agonized wail for help, but she held her breath, and didn't make a sound. She could see the moonlight above, and scrambled to the surface, taking in deep breaths of frozen air and kicking her legs wildly to stay afloat. Her arms clutched pathetically at the edge of the solid ice, trying to pull herself from the water. Each time she gripped a solid area, another chunk would break away in her hands and she would sink back into the icy blackness.
"Focus.", she thought to herself, though the burning cold was pounding at her body from all directions, her chest ached from holding her breath, her limbs were growing numb and useless. Her torso felt as if an enormous weight was pushing mercilessly harder, crushng her ribcage, her back would soon break, she would drown, she would die of the pain, she would never be warm again. "Don't panic! Focus!", she snapped herself out of her fear, and struggled to pull her wand from her robes. She pointed it into her stomach, and with all the strength her body had left, she concentrated and sounded the words "Wingardium Leviosa" in her head.
The casting of a silent spell was not something she had completely mastered just yet, but her fear had given power to her thoughts. As if she were being dragged upward by an invisible rescuer, her body snatched itself up and rose out of the water, floated away from the broken ice, and came to rest by the lake's edge.
She laid there for a few moments, shivering and sobbing quietly, unsure what to do next. She needed to get inside before she froze to death, that was certain. Her legs ached terribly, even as she rose to her feet and fled towards the castle, every step was a struggle, with every new breath she felt herself shuddering more violently, her mind fought to stay conscious as the freezing wind burned her wet skin. She was not moving toward any secret entrance to Ravenclaw house, where she was supposed to be warm in bed at this very moment. She couldn't bear seeing her classmates like this, she knew they would wake when she came in, and ask her what happened, and the headmaster of Ravenclaw would probably find out and she'd be in a world of trouble. Isabelle was now walking toward a low window at the base of the Slytherin side of the castle, and on the other side of this window, she knew there to be a lonely hallway, leading to a old, heavy wooden door. And behind this door, she would find him. He would help her. He would have to. She had no other choice left.
"Alo Hamora!" she cried, her wand pointed at the window and shaking badly in her hands from the cold. The window unlatched itself from the inside, and she shoved it open and collapsed in a shivering heap on the dusty floor. Dirt stuck to her wet robes, her hair was half-frozen and matted across her face, and her body was trembling uncontrollably as she stumbled to her feet. Her face was grower paler by the second, as her body lost warmth. She was staring at the door to Professor Snape's study. "Just knock. Don't think, just do it", she told herself, but her arms would not obey.
Before she had a chance to regain her bravery, the old wooden door swung open and Professor Snape was standing in the doorway, looked quite displeased. "What on earth is going on out here!" he thundered, and then his eyes settled on the shivering girl. "Miss Pearl. Would you care to explain what you are doing outside my door, disturbing me in the middle of the night?"
"Sir - I..." her eyes fell to the floor. She was convulsing terribly as shame overwhelmed her. "I was out on the lake and I fell through the ice." Her pale skin was growing ever whiter before him.
"Students are not to be out of bed after hours", he growled savagely, "and certainly not outside the school, wandering about the grounds. The headmaster of Ravenclaw will not be amused, and neither am I. Get back to your house immediately, and I will see to it that your headmaster knows what happened."
"No - sir!", she cried pitifully, her teeth rattling with fear and the awful cold. "Please sir, don't send me away. I - I must speak with you."
"Of all the idiotic annoyances...I never would have expected you, a seventh year, a good student, to...oh, for God's sake, come in, Miss Pearl." Snape murmured impatiently, and she scrambled through the doorway. The door swung shut behind her on its own. Professor Snape drew his wand from his robes, and waved it silently through the air. The silent spell jolted her unexpectedly, and at once her freezing, soaking clothes were as blazing warm and dry as if she had been sitting in front of a roaring fire for hours. Her hair was soft and dry again, but she could not cease her trembling, even though she was no longer cold.
"I assume you wanted to speak to me in order to explain your actions tonight. Rest assured, if you think any explanation you could give will cause me to be more lenient, you will be sorely dissapointed." His hard, black eyes settled on hers, and she lowered her eyes, deeply embarassed. "What have you got to say for yourself?"
"Um, I - I was trying to find an ingredient for a potion when I fell through the ice." Isabelle stammered.
"A potion?", Snape repeated in an amused tone. "How very fascinating. What was this potion for?"
"Well...it was for you, sir." Her voice grew weaker with each word, but she was not lying.
"For me. Something for class, then. I don't recall giving any assignments in Potions that would have students wandering into a frozen lake in the middle of the night."
"No, professor, this wasn't for class...it was...it was something I was doing on my own." She was terrified, but she felt compelled to be honest with her teacher. He would know if I lied, she thought. Somehow, he would know.
"An independent Potions project", Snape replied. "Very interesting indeed. And what was the ingredient you were attempting to obtain when this misfortune occured?"
She was silent for a few moments, unable to muster the courage to speak. Finally, the words came. "I was looking for a momenta flower, sir."
Professor Snape's expression did not change, but she could see the sparkle of amusement in his black eyes. "A momenta flower", he repeated. "And just what sort of potion was it that required you to obtain a momenta flower?"
Her courage was gone. She swallowed the horrible lump in her throat. But she could not lie. There was nothing to do but to tell the truth now. "The Affectious potion, sir."
Snape was quiet for a long time, and he had turned his back to her. She could feel his anger when he spoke again.
"The Affectious potion, Miss Pearl, is a forbidden item at Hogwarts school."
"Yes, sir."
"Are you aware that possessing, creating, or attempting to create the Affectious potion on school grounds is an offense punishable by expulsion from the school?"
"Yes, sir." she answered quietly, and felt as though she would die from the shame.
"And do you honestly take me for a fool enough to believe that you were creating a forbidden lust potion in the middle of the night to turn in for extra credit?" He spoke the last few words sarcastically, wheeling and giving her a look of contempt that made her want to sink into the cracks in his floor. "Planned on slipping this into the drink of some poor sod you have a crush on, did you?"
"No, sir! I - I mean, here." She fumbled through her robes and drew a small vial, which she handed to him. "This is what I've created so far, I needed the flower to finish it. Professor, I have told you the truth. I intended the potion for you."
Snape's eyes blazed with rage, and he snatched the vial away and took a few menacing steps toward her. "So, you meant to trick me! Thought it would be funny to send your old teacher into a day-long frenzy, did you? You and your classmates planned this little prank? You should know I would not fall into such an easy trap, but your failure to complete your pathetic practical joke will make your punishment no less severe. I'll see you and anyone else involved expelled from the school before sunrise!"
"Sir!! Please listen, it wasn't like that at all! I didn't intend the potion as a trick! I - I had hoped..." she trailed off for a moment, and her heart pounded, but there was no turning back. "...I had hoped you would drink it with me."
Professor Snape had fallen silent again, and had again turned his back to her. He was delicately twisting the vial in his fingers, turning it over again and again. Finally, he said quietly, "And why would you want to drink this with me?"
The words were there, but they would not come. Isabelle blushed deeply and cleared her throat. I must tell him now, she thought. There is no other way. "Because...I like you, sir." They were the most sincere words she had spoken to anyone since her first day at Hogwarts.
The professor kept his back to her, and the silence between them became unbearable. She could feel him wrestling his reactions, unsure whether to be amused or angry. When he turned to speak again, his voice remained harsh, but there was a hint of mirth in the corners of his mouth. She became aware that he was consciously struggling not to smile.
"You like me. Your classmates do not share your affection."
"I know, sir."
"What is your reason for liking me?"
"I - I don't know!" she gasped in frustration, and her face became a deep shade of crimson. But he was not angry, in fact, he seemed highly intrigued by her revelation. It gave her courage. "I think you're powerful", she said, "And brilliant." Then the lump returned to her throat, and she swallowed and closed her eyes, mortified.
This flattery was not lost on Professor Snape, who was failing in his efforts not to smile. He paced the room for a moment, carefully deciding his response.
"That is very kind of you. And I must admit, this is the first time a student has said such a thing to me. Are your sentiments genuine?"
"Yes, yes sir, they are. I am sincere."
"I believe you're telling me the truth", he said decisively, and a great sigh of relief left her. "Do not relax just yet, Miss Pearl. You were caught attempting to create a forbidden potion, and I don't think you yet understand the seriousness of your crime. Affectious potion causes the drinker to lose control over their own feelings, to have their bodies react in spite of the awareness and will of their minds. This is not something to take lightly, and you will be punished for what you have done."
"Yes, sir." she squeaked.
"I am sensing that you do not wish for your headmaster at Ravenclaw to know about any of this."
"No, no sir", she said earnestly. "Please, if you would be kind enough to keep this to yourself, and punish me on your own..."
"...I am many things, none of which is kind," Professor Snape interrupted, "but since this matter is personal to you, I see no reason to involve anyone from Ravenclaw house. You will speak of this night to no one. If anyone asks where you were, you will tell them that you served a late detention with me. Is this understood?"
"Yes, sir!" she answered quickly, and felt greatly relieved to know that her secret would not be revealed to anyone else.
"Your punishment will be harsh. Very severe indeed. You may find yourself less taken with me once I'm through with you", he said threateningly, but the words didn't frighten her. Goosebumps rose on her arms and legs, and she boldly looked into his eyes, allowing her desire to make itself known.
The smile began to creep across the professor's face again. "Remove your robes and your shoes", he commanded, "and give me your wand." She obeyed immediately. She was now standing in her school clothes; a clean, gray sweater and a black pleated skirt, and gray, knee-high socks.
Professor Snape raised his wand at the door, and then swept it around the room with one long guesture. She could tell that he was casting a silent spell again.
"What did you just do?", she asked innocently.
"A silencing spell", he replied, "so that we may be sure eavesdroppers are kept out of this. The room is now soundproof, and no one outside the door will hear your voice or my voice, no matter how loud we may be."
"That's very clever, sir."
"You should stop trying to flatter me now, for it will do you no good."
"I'm sorry, sir." She became suddenly meek and embarassed all over again.
"Your punishment", Snape began, "will involve learning a lesson about how dangerous a magic that causes a person to lose control of their feelings can be." Then without warning, he pointed his wand at her, and hissed "Rictusempra!"
As soon as the word was spoken, Isabelle fell to the floor, clutching herself and gasping, and then her laughter filled the room. She felt as though she were being tickled all over, by hundreds of invisible hands, poking and prodding her most ticklish spots. She punched and kicked at the air, rolled around trying to escape her transparent tormenters. But there was no one there, and nothing to escape. Through her hysterical laughter, she tried to find her concentration, perhaps it would be enough to block the spell... "Haha!! Ohh no!! hahaha, please...stop it!"
The tickling sensation stopped as quickly as it had began. She was dazed for a few moments, but realized that her professor had stopped the spell. She leapt to her feet, eager to compose herself in front of her teacher. Rictusempra, it had been so long since anyone had used that against her...
As if reading her mind, Professor Snape spoke. "I was just testing something... Rictusempra is an excellent example of the magic I was referring to, in that it causes an immediate lack of control for the victim. Provided that the victim is ticklish, of course, which most people are to some degree. Are you familiar with this spell, Miss Pearl?"
"Yes, sir" she answered quietly.
"A classmate has used it against you in school, then?"
She hesitated... her thoughts drifted back to her early years at school. She was a quiet, studious girl...but there were other girls at school, bigger girls, louder and meaner, girls who didn't like quiet, studious girls. Girls who would use Rictusempra against her until she cried and begged. Not so much in seventh year, now that she was an adult, and nearly a fully qualified witch. But in first year, and a few times in second and third... she shuddered and snapped back to attention.
"Yes, sir."
"You'll find that magic such as this can be used to humiliate and torment. It goes far beyond schoolyard bullying, but this sort of spell is at the root of darker manipulations. Are you beginning to see why the Affectious potion is forbidden?"
"I...I think so, sir."
"I'm afraid that answer is not acceptable." He raised his wand to her again. "Rictusempra!"
She froze immediately, but remained standing, locked in silent laughter. It took a few moments before she fell, and erupted into loud squealing and giggling. Again she pounded at the ground and the air, fighting against the sensations the spell was causing. "Hehehe! Professor...PLEASE...DON'T! Hahaha!" It was maddening, and there was nothing she could do. She felt the tickling everywhere, moving and switching postions on her body with no warning or pattern. It was much worse than anything the schoolgirl bullies, who were mean but inexperienced magicians, had ever inflicted upon her. "Hahahahaha! No, No!! Hahaha, NO!!!"
Though she didn't see a movement from her teacher or hear a word, the tickling suddenly stopped again, and she knew that he could begin and end the Rictusempra spell at any point in time that he chose. It was also obvious that the words had much more power when Professor Snape spoke them. The Rictusempra spells the girls would use to torment her would wear off quickly on their own, and the sensation would be focused on only one or two areas of her body. But just a few seconds of this same spell at the hands of Severus Snape, and she was squealing, begging, losing her mind. She didn't bother getting back up this time. She laid on the floor, gasping and trembling with a sudden excitement that had unexpectedly overwhelmed her.
"It appears that you are a very ticklish young lady indeed," Snape said with a taunting tone. "Rictusempra spells have their appealing qualities, but in my school days, we preferred the old-fashioned method. You can get up now."
Isabelle slowly rose to her feet again. She looked up at her teacher, and suddenly felt a ridiculous temptation to say something foolish, something that would anger her professor and likely worsen her punishment. What on earth is wrong with me?, she thought to herself.
Again he seemed to be sensing her thoughts. He gazed knowingly at her face. "Is something on your mind, Miss Pearl? Do you have something to say to me?"
She bit her lower lip. "No sir, nothing."
"You have learned nothing, then. But rest assured, I have many ways of punishing you into understanding. Follow me."
She trailed behind him, a towering figure in a black cloak, leading her into a nightmare. He had moved past the front room of his chambers, to a smaller, dimly-lit room with a shabby bed covered in graying sheets and blankets. Is this where he slept?, she asked herself. Did he ever sleep?
"Lie down", he commanded, and she quickly skidded around him and flounced down on the bed. "On your back, arms above your head, legs apart." She raised her arms obediently, and slid her legs open, blushing shyly. Her school clothes suddenly felt far too revealing. Professor Snape then crouched down next to her, and produced leather cuffs connected to the legs of the bed by heavy chains. She was unsure if he had conjured them magically, or if he always kept shackles on his bed. He buckled her limbs into each cuff, and she pulled experimentally, testing. She could barely move at all. The words she had heard him say earlier repeated in her mind..."In my school days, we preferred the old-fashioned method."...surely, he couldn't mean...?
"Miss Pearl, I could explore the complicated evils of the Rictusempra spell with you all night, but I think, you may find this a much less abstract method of punishment. I hope, for your sake, you learn your lesson quickly." He glided along the side of the bed, stopping at her feet. He raised his hand, and his long fingers were poised above her helpless, stockinged foot. She couldn't stop herself. Her toes curled, and she broke into giggles before he even touched her.
"Sir!! No, please, I'm begging you! Don't tickle me!"
For the first time, Professor Snape smiled at his young student, and made no efforts at all to conceal his amusement. "Save your requests for your favorite songwriter."
His fingertips delicately traced the arch and sides of her right foot. His touch was electrifying, and the moment his fingers made contact with her foot, she had sucked in her breath and her entire body stiffened, every muscle strained away from his hand. It ached, and she knew there was no point, but she couldn't keep herself from resisting. He was now wriggling his fingertips a breath below her toes, and her twisting and straining became more panicked, as she giggled uncontrollably. She suddenly felt stunningly aware of her vulnerability, and this insight only served to increase her panic...his touch was light, he wasn't tickling her cruelly, she may have posessed the strength to block the sensations, if not for the sudden awareness of her own body, bound and helpless, and the nearness of Professor Snape, her hidden heart's desire, touching her...touching her for the very first time...it had all hit her at once, and her nerves were on fire.
"I can see that you are quite responsive to this form of punishment", he murmured teasingly. "We should begin to make some progress now."
His other hand shot toward her other foot, and she shrieked and stiffened in anticipation. Then she could feel his fingertips dancing along each of her stockinged feet at once, and she had nothing to do but give in. Her mind raced, while her body reacted. She laughed helplessly, shouting "No!...Please!" between her hysterical squeals, and in her mind, a great battle between her fear and her excitement was raging. I am his, she thought, his to torment, there is nothing I can do, there is no escape... it's unbearable...I can't stand it...I love it...
"Losing control of our feelings is not always pleasant, is it, Miss Pearl?" Snape taunted.
"Hehehe! NO!!"
"Should you have successfully administered the Affectious potion you were attempting to make, I would have been affected for 24 hours. Shall I keep tickling you for 24 hours, so that you might know the extent of the damage you were prepared to cause?"
"NO...PLEASE, NO!"
"No? The incomplete potion you turned over to me itself would have affected me for about 20 minutes. Shall I tickle you for twenty minutes, then?"
"Ah hahaha!! NO!!" she cried, but then her thoughts caught up with her frenzied reactions... twenty minutes might not be so bad... "I mean...I - I don't know. How long has it been now?"
Snape smiled wickedly. "I don't know. I haven't been keeping track." And then he stood, and attacked her sides.
She bucked and writhed, squirming and arching her back as her agonizingly ticklish sides were exploited for every squealing, desperate ounce of fight she was worth. Something was boiling deep inside her, ready to break free..."Hahahaha!! No!" She was losing control, it was too much to endure... "Stop it, stop it, please, hehehe...let me go, let me go RIGHT NOW, you nasty, evil, vicious...!"
Professor Snape chuckled and gave the hysterical girl a wide grin. "I told you earlier, Miss Pearl, flattery will get you nowhere. You seem not at all certain of your own heart, or are you? Earlier tonight you told me you liked me, and now, I'm nasty, evil, vicious..?"
"You are ALL of those things!" she shrieked, unable to contain herself..."and I adore you!" She groaned as frustration, and a deeper, intense freedom overwhelmed her.
As suddenly as this rush had come, Professor Snape had retrieved his wand, and with a silent wave, she was free from her shackles. She sat up on his bed, trembling, her breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps.
"Have you learned your lesson, Miss Pearl?"
"Yes, sir", she whispered with a joyful sigh.
"What have you learned from me tonight?"
"I have learned... to be brave, and strong, and that I shouldn't fear my own feelings. That I should be straightforward and true. I...I was wrong to attempt the Affectious potion. I should not have been deceitful, I should not have been tempted to manipulate...I should have told you... Professor, when I called you those names, I didn't mean it...I didn't mean..." Her voice faded, and the emotion overwhelmed her.
"That will do, Miss Pearl. You are correct, you should never fear what lies within your own heart. To do so is to invite despair. There is a part of you that did mean everything you said to me tonight, pleasant or unpleasant, and you should have no fear of that as well. The heart is complicated and confusing, but bury certain aspects of yourself, and you will never get any closer to understanding life's grand secrets."
"You are very wise, sir." She smiled at her teacher, with profound warmth and tenderness. "Thank you. Is there...is there any chance that we will see eacn other again?"
"Of course there is", replied Snape. "We will see each other in classes until the end of the year. Beyond that, I cannot say. Soon you will graduate from this school, and begin a new life, and it is very likely that we will never see each other again."
"Oh, sir!" she cried, "Please don't say that! I would come back..."
"You will do as you feel you must", he said in a strangely gentle tone. "And so will I."
Professor Snape's hand drew from his cloak the small vial she had given him, the unfinished Affectious potion. He spent a moment quietly studying it, and then placed it in her hand. "For a forbidden potion, I must say, it's an impressive effort. It must have taken you a long time to get this far. I trust you will dispose of this properly."
She stared at the potion resting in the palm of her hand. A wild, impulsive feeling surged through her. She looked up at her Professor. And looked back to the vial. She pulled out the stopper.
And before she could think, or hesitate, she swallowed every drop.
The most intense passion filled her until she was brimming, overflowing with every mature emotion that had ever passed through a woman's heart. It was agony, exquisite agony. Her sparkling eyes met the eyes of her stunned teacher.
"Professor...I need you..." she breathed.
Without giving him a chance to answer, she flung her arms around him, and pulled him down with her. "It is possible that I haven't quite learned my lesson yet", she whispered in his ear, and laughed happily.
I wanted to find out the names of spells and use them where I could, so I looked on some Harry Potter fansites and found a listing of spells and their uses, which is where I came across "Rictusempra". It's a tickling spell from the books, I don't know which book it was first featured in, but I'll take their word for it. I also found out there's this whole section of the web devoted to the Snape character, with tons of fanfiction stories of him doing all sorts of things, usually involving sex with a student. This makes me think that a lot of chicks (and dudes?) find him sexy for some inner reason, and that's where the tickling fantasy comes in for someone like me.Rictusempra, incendio, alo hamora, and wingardiam leviosa are all spells from the books. The momenta flower, Affectious potion, and the character Isabelle Pearl were made up by me for the story. I mean this story purely as tickling fantasy and not to insult or degrade J.K. Rowling's books. The female character is kind of a mix of ideas, my idea of the perfect lee for any sadistic tickler...she's beautiful, passionate, smart, and enjoys being ordered around by a tall dark man in a cape with a smooth voice just a little too much
And also a means for me to comment on the power men and women have over each other, sexually and romantically. The Snape character is also sort of a way for me to express an attraction to strange things that I can't always logically explain. So anyway, hope you enjoy and feel free to comment, all characters in this story are over 18, this story contains M/F tickling and sexual situations.**********
Punishment
Seventh year at Hogwarts has all the students in the class feeling their brains being bombarded and overloaded with anticipation and anxiety. This is the year Isabelle Pearl had turned 18, her birthday being early in the schoolyear, her classmates celebrating or waiting to celebrate the same milestone in age. This year, so many thoughts would crowd uncomfortably in the mind of a seventh year student. Exams, the future of school-founded friendships and relationships, choosing a successful pursuit in the wizarding world to embark upon after graduation... Isabelle was quiet, studious, doing well in all her classes, a lovely and bright Ravenclaw with hip-length, shining waves of silky black hair, and soft, warm brown eyes behind thick, dark lashes, and porcelain white skin. Boys in her homeroom had never overlooked her alluring features, but most found her difficult to approach...she seemed most content alone, buried in her studies, concocting delicate potions, practicing the more difficult spells her class would be expected to have mastered by the end of the year. In conversation, she never seemed to be the initiating party, and though she would speak politely and warmly to the other students who approached her, she seemed always to be veiling some aspect of her thoughts, vague and impossible to penetrate for those who looked, hoping to learn the secret she harbored. This impression she was so gifted at leaving, while not gaining her any real enemies, had given most of her classmates an odd, uncomfortable feeling about her, and so she was, for a great deal of her school career, a loner - which she seemed to have no complaint with. It had been so since her first year at Hogwarts, and now in her final year, she felt no closer to any of them, and had no wish for them to know her more closely.
Isabelle could feel the young men's eyes that still harbored some admiration for her, sometimes their gaze brushed the back of her mind in class from the rear of the room, and she could sense the question they all had: What is it about her? What secret did she veil in her quiet, lonely existence, what can I say to make her want to tell me?
None were ever bold enough to ask her straight away, but inside, Isabelle could barely believe the answer was not completely obvious to them. Indeed, she had been mysterious and vague in her socializations with the other students, and she was hiding something, something she knew could possibly be horrible if it became common knowledge in class. Yet, how none of them had guessed it after all this time, she wasn't quite sure. Her behavior was, at times, woefully inadequate at disguising her deepest secret. Especially during his classes.
Isabelle was hopelessly, desperately infatuated with Hogwarts' potions professor, Severus Snape. Her heart would leap when he would give his approval to an essay she had written, or a particularly well-brewed potion she had concocted in class. Her insides would pound every time he passed close to her desk, his black cloak whipping behind him. She was terrified that the other students would figure out her attraction and humiliate her. Not one of them would understand what she saw in the man, Professor Snape was not at all well-liked by the students. But he had a power over her she could not explain. His stern, ominous voice detailing the assignments and expectations for their classwork would echo in her mind, the seductive tone sometimes keeping her from entirely understanding what he was trying to convey, which was horribly embarassing for her when he would call upon her to reiterate the assignment to him, only to meekly whisper back the parts she remembered and then blush furiously as he scolded her for failing to pay attention to his instructions. This was most important to her, indeed, she tried harder in Advanced Potions class than in any other, because professor Snape seemed to have a terrible disdain for students who did poorly in his classes. Above all things, she wanted to please him, and so doing well on the assignments he gave was a matter she took most seriously.
She had been reading ahead of the class in the Advanced Potions textbook and had completed the assigned work ahead of schedule, but had been working for the past few weeks on a special potion. Complicated and exhausting in the collection of necessary ingredients, she had done well on securing nearly all of the items that would be needed, and the final product would be ready in a matter of days. The potion she was working on was quite notorious, and something not allowed at Hogwarts, though a great deal of the students had found ways around the laws forbidding them to possess certain items. It was a lust potion, a powerful draught that would cause the drinker to become overwhelmed with desire, intensely attracted and aroused by the person nearest to them at the time of consumption, giving them an insatiable urge to be sexually gratified. She had already succeeded at completing the beginning form of the potion, which would be effective for about 20 minutes. The full potion would require more time, a specific ingredient for lasting power, and would be effective for 24 hours of carnal bliss.
What did she plan to do with this potion? She was unsure of ths herself. She would lamely tell herself that perhaps Professor Snape would give her an extra credit on the final exams for completing such a difficult brew, but her fantasies told a different story...she thought of ways she could sneak the potion into Snape's food or drink and then get him alone, though she knew he was likely too keen with detecting potions and suspicious of others to be tricked so easily. She would daydream of waiting at his door, fully confessing her affections and making her intentions quite clear, and then he would drink the nectar she had prepared for him, and satisfy all her deepest desires. The fantasy always ended the same way, with passionate sex, powerful feelings, vulnerability. She was in love with these dreams as much as she was in love with him.
The momenta flower was the final ingredient she needed to obtain to complete her potion. This tiny flower blooms only momentarily, as its name would suggest, and only in one place. It would blossom in the month of January, when the full moon was focused on a direct central point over the frozen Hogwarts lake. At the bottom of the lake, beneath the ice, the momenta flower would bloom for as long as the moonlight shone above it. The only way to extract the momenta flower, is to walk across the frozen lake at the correct time, find the correct location, cast a spell to melt through the ice in that spot, or cut through the ice, and give an incantation to cause the flower to pluck itself and rise to the surface of the water. Momenta flowers are dangerous to extract, but endlessly useful in giving several types of potions a great deal more potency and lasting power.
Her night had arrived. The moon was finally going to be in the needed location, at about 2 o'clock in the morning. Students were not allowed to be out of bed this late, but there were many pathways around rules at Hogwarts, many hidden staircases, secret tunnels, trap doors, lonely and forgotton passageways... she had spent many years discovering the hidden ways into and out of the school, and now in her seventh year, was an expert and slipping in and out after hours undetected.
It was a blisteringly cold night. Isabelle clutched her cloak tighty around herself as she walked quickly across the snow-covered grounds, toward the lake. The moonlight gave the lake's surface an eerie quality, like immense blackness contained inside an enormous crystal ball. The water below the ice seemed as dark and forbidding as ever, and it was difficult for her to believe a magically precious flower could bloom in this frozen, murky world. She stepped onto the ice at the lake's edge, walking carefully and lightly toward the center. When she had reached the center of the lake, she drew her wand from her robes, pointed it at the ice, and spoke "Incendio!" Immediately, the tip of her wand glowed a deep yellow, as if its tip had caught fire, and heat shot from the wand to the ice. She waved her wand in a circular direction, creating a circular hole in the ice much like one would use for ice fishing. She stepped back a few paces from the circular opening.
She raised her wand again, and spoke the first word of the incantation which would cause the momenta flower to rise to the surface, where she could easily retrieve it. However, it would appear luck was not on her side this night. She heard another sound as she spoke, louder and more chilling than her own voice. A piercing, hissing cry from the lake's surface. She fell silent and stared at the ice below her feet.
Tiny cracks were forming against the edge of the circle she had cut through the ice, cracks that were widening, reaching, coming closer and crying out with an angry shriek. She began to slowly back away, trying to be as light on her feet as she possibly could, trying to will the ice to mend and be whole again. But she had begun a chain reaction that was not stopping, and the cracks were spreading faster now, splintering, and now they had reached her, they had stretched on behind her, she looked down at her feet and could see the white lines splintering everywhere around her toes. The lake crackled and moaned, and she held her breath, and stood absolutely motionless, afraid to breathe.
It was very still for a moment, and then with a grunt of contempt, the ice began to break apart. Isabelle shrieked and turned to run, but the solid surface below her feet was falling apart, and she was plunged into the freezing water.
"Don't scream. Don't breathe.", was all she could desperately think as she was engulfed in blackness and cold, cold like she had never felt before in her life. The water was freezing, it was so cold that her entire body felt like it was on fire, like the chill was burning her skin away. Her lungs filled up with an agonized wail for help, but she held her breath, and didn't make a sound. She could see the moonlight above, and scrambled to the surface, taking in deep breaths of frozen air and kicking her legs wildly to stay afloat. Her arms clutched pathetically at the edge of the solid ice, trying to pull herself from the water. Each time she gripped a solid area, another chunk would break away in her hands and she would sink back into the icy blackness.
"Focus.", she thought to herself, though the burning cold was pounding at her body from all directions, her chest ached from holding her breath, her limbs were growing numb and useless. Her torso felt as if an enormous weight was pushing mercilessly harder, crushng her ribcage, her back would soon break, she would drown, she would die of the pain, she would never be warm again. "Don't panic! Focus!", she snapped herself out of her fear, and struggled to pull her wand from her robes. She pointed it into her stomach, and with all the strength her body had left, she concentrated and sounded the words "Wingardium Leviosa" in her head.
The casting of a silent spell was not something she had completely mastered just yet, but her fear had given power to her thoughts. As if she were being dragged upward by an invisible rescuer, her body snatched itself up and rose out of the water, floated away from the broken ice, and came to rest by the lake's edge.
She laid there for a few moments, shivering and sobbing quietly, unsure what to do next. She needed to get inside before she froze to death, that was certain. Her legs ached terribly, even as she rose to her feet and fled towards the castle, every step was a struggle, with every new breath she felt herself shuddering more violently, her mind fought to stay conscious as the freezing wind burned her wet skin. She was not moving toward any secret entrance to Ravenclaw house, where she was supposed to be warm in bed at this very moment. She couldn't bear seeing her classmates like this, she knew they would wake when she came in, and ask her what happened, and the headmaster of Ravenclaw would probably find out and she'd be in a world of trouble. Isabelle was now walking toward a low window at the base of the Slytherin side of the castle, and on the other side of this window, she knew there to be a lonely hallway, leading to a old, heavy wooden door. And behind this door, she would find him. He would help her. He would have to. She had no other choice left.
"Alo Hamora!" she cried, her wand pointed at the window and shaking badly in her hands from the cold. The window unlatched itself from the inside, and she shoved it open and collapsed in a shivering heap on the dusty floor. Dirt stuck to her wet robes, her hair was half-frozen and matted across her face, and her body was trembling uncontrollably as she stumbled to her feet. Her face was grower paler by the second, as her body lost warmth. She was staring at the door to Professor Snape's study. "Just knock. Don't think, just do it", she told herself, but her arms would not obey.
Before she had a chance to regain her bravery, the old wooden door swung open and Professor Snape was standing in the doorway, looked quite displeased. "What on earth is going on out here!" he thundered, and then his eyes settled on the shivering girl. "Miss Pearl. Would you care to explain what you are doing outside my door, disturbing me in the middle of the night?"
"Sir - I..." her eyes fell to the floor. She was convulsing terribly as shame overwhelmed her. "I was out on the lake and I fell through the ice." Her pale skin was growing ever whiter before him.
"Students are not to be out of bed after hours", he growled savagely, "and certainly not outside the school, wandering about the grounds. The headmaster of Ravenclaw will not be amused, and neither am I. Get back to your house immediately, and I will see to it that your headmaster knows what happened."
"No - sir!", she cried pitifully, her teeth rattling with fear and the awful cold. "Please sir, don't send me away. I - I must speak with you."
"Of all the idiotic annoyances...I never would have expected you, a seventh year, a good student, to...oh, for God's sake, come in, Miss Pearl." Snape murmured impatiently, and she scrambled through the doorway. The door swung shut behind her on its own. Professor Snape drew his wand from his robes, and waved it silently through the air. The silent spell jolted her unexpectedly, and at once her freezing, soaking clothes were as blazing warm and dry as if she had been sitting in front of a roaring fire for hours. Her hair was soft and dry again, but she could not cease her trembling, even though she was no longer cold.
"I assume you wanted to speak to me in order to explain your actions tonight. Rest assured, if you think any explanation you could give will cause me to be more lenient, you will be sorely dissapointed." His hard, black eyes settled on hers, and she lowered her eyes, deeply embarassed. "What have you got to say for yourself?"
"Um, I - I was trying to find an ingredient for a potion when I fell through the ice." Isabelle stammered.
"A potion?", Snape repeated in an amused tone. "How very fascinating. What was this potion for?"
"Well...it was for you, sir." Her voice grew weaker with each word, but she was not lying.
"For me. Something for class, then. I don't recall giving any assignments in Potions that would have students wandering into a frozen lake in the middle of the night."
"No, professor, this wasn't for class...it was...it was something I was doing on my own." She was terrified, but she felt compelled to be honest with her teacher. He would know if I lied, she thought. Somehow, he would know.
"An independent Potions project", Snape replied. "Very interesting indeed. And what was the ingredient you were attempting to obtain when this misfortune occured?"
She was silent for a few moments, unable to muster the courage to speak. Finally, the words came. "I was looking for a momenta flower, sir."
Professor Snape's expression did not change, but she could see the sparkle of amusement in his black eyes. "A momenta flower", he repeated. "And just what sort of potion was it that required you to obtain a momenta flower?"
Her courage was gone. She swallowed the horrible lump in her throat. But she could not lie. There was nothing to do but to tell the truth now. "The Affectious potion, sir."
Snape was quiet for a long time, and he had turned his back to her. She could feel his anger when he spoke again.
"The Affectious potion, Miss Pearl, is a forbidden item at Hogwarts school."
"Yes, sir."
"Are you aware that possessing, creating, or attempting to create the Affectious potion on school grounds is an offense punishable by expulsion from the school?"
"Yes, sir." she answered quietly, and felt as though she would die from the shame.
"And do you honestly take me for a fool enough to believe that you were creating a forbidden lust potion in the middle of the night to turn in for extra credit?" He spoke the last few words sarcastically, wheeling and giving her a look of contempt that made her want to sink into the cracks in his floor. "Planned on slipping this into the drink of some poor sod you have a crush on, did you?"
"No, sir! I - I mean, here." She fumbled through her robes and drew a small vial, which she handed to him. "This is what I've created so far, I needed the flower to finish it. Professor, I have told you the truth. I intended the potion for you."
Snape's eyes blazed with rage, and he snatched the vial away and took a few menacing steps toward her. "So, you meant to trick me! Thought it would be funny to send your old teacher into a day-long frenzy, did you? You and your classmates planned this little prank? You should know I would not fall into such an easy trap, but your failure to complete your pathetic practical joke will make your punishment no less severe. I'll see you and anyone else involved expelled from the school before sunrise!"
"Sir!! Please listen, it wasn't like that at all! I didn't intend the potion as a trick! I - I had hoped..." she trailed off for a moment, and her heart pounded, but there was no turning back. "...I had hoped you would drink it with me."
Professor Snape had fallen silent again, and had again turned his back to her. He was delicately twisting the vial in his fingers, turning it over again and again. Finally, he said quietly, "And why would you want to drink this with me?"
The words were there, but they would not come. Isabelle blushed deeply and cleared her throat. I must tell him now, she thought. There is no other way. "Because...I like you, sir." They were the most sincere words she had spoken to anyone since her first day at Hogwarts.
The professor kept his back to her, and the silence between them became unbearable. She could feel him wrestling his reactions, unsure whether to be amused or angry. When he turned to speak again, his voice remained harsh, but there was a hint of mirth in the corners of his mouth. She became aware that he was consciously struggling not to smile.
"You like me. Your classmates do not share your affection."
"I know, sir."
"What is your reason for liking me?"
"I - I don't know!" she gasped in frustration, and her face became a deep shade of crimson. But he was not angry, in fact, he seemed highly intrigued by her revelation. It gave her courage. "I think you're powerful", she said, "And brilliant." Then the lump returned to her throat, and she swallowed and closed her eyes, mortified.
This flattery was not lost on Professor Snape, who was failing in his efforts not to smile. He paced the room for a moment, carefully deciding his response.
"That is very kind of you. And I must admit, this is the first time a student has said such a thing to me. Are your sentiments genuine?"
"Yes, yes sir, they are. I am sincere."
"I believe you're telling me the truth", he said decisively, and a great sigh of relief left her. "Do not relax just yet, Miss Pearl. You were caught attempting to create a forbidden potion, and I don't think you yet understand the seriousness of your crime. Affectious potion causes the drinker to lose control over their own feelings, to have their bodies react in spite of the awareness and will of their minds. This is not something to take lightly, and you will be punished for what you have done."
"Yes, sir." she squeaked.
"I am sensing that you do not wish for your headmaster at Ravenclaw to know about any of this."
"No, no sir", she said earnestly. "Please, if you would be kind enough to keep this to yourself, and punish me on your own..."
"...I am many things, none of which is kind," Professor Snape interrupted, "but since this matter is personal to you, I see no reason to involve anyone from Ravenclaw house. You will speak of this night to no one. If anyone asks where you were, you will tell them that you served a late detention with me. Is this understood?"
"Yes, sir!" she answered quickly, and felt greatly relieved to know that her secret would not be revealed to anyone else.
"Your punishment will be harsh. Very severe indeed. You may find yourself less taken with me once I'm through with you", he said threateningly, but the words didn't frighten her. Goosebumps rose on her arms and legs, and she boldly looked into his eyes, allowing her desire to make itself known.
The smile began to creep across the professor's face again. "Remove your robes and your shoes", he commanded, "and give me your wand." She obeyed immediately. She was now standing in her school clothes; a clean, gray sweater and a black pleated skirt, and gray, knee-high socks.
Professor Snape raised his wand at the door, and then swept it around the room with one long guesture. She could tell that he was casting a silent spell again.
"What did you just do?", she asked innocently.
"A silencing spell", he replied, "so that we may be sure eavesdroppers are kept out of this. The room is now soundproof, and no one outside the door will hear your voice or my voice, no matter how loud we may be."
"That's very clever, sir."
"You should stop trying to flatter me now, for it will do you no good."
"I'm sorry, sir." She became suddenly meek and embarassed all over again.
"Your punishment", Snape began, "will involve learning a lesson about how dangerous a magic that causes a person to lose control of their feelings can be." Then without warning, he pointed his wand at her, and hissed "Rictusempra!"
As soon as the word was spoken, Isabelle fell to the floor, clutching herself and gasping, and then her laughter filled the room. She felt as though she were being tickled all over, by hundreds of invisible hands, poking and prodding her most ticklish spots. She punched and kicked at the air, rolled around trying to escape her transparent tormenters. But there was no one there, and nothing to escape. Through her hysterical laughter, she tried to find her concentration, perhaps it would be enough to block the spell... "Haha!! Ohh no!! hahaha, please...stop it!"
The tickling sensation stopped as quickly as it had began. She was dazed for a few moments, but realized that her professor had stopped the spell. She leapt to her feet, eager to compose herself in front of her teacher. Rictusempra, it had been so long since anyone had used that against her...
As if reading her mind, Professor Snape spoke. "I was just testing something... Rictusempra is an excellent example of the magic I was referring to, in that it causes an immediate lack of control for the victim. Provided that the victim is ticklish, of course, which most people are to some degree. Are you familiar with this spell, Miss Pearl?"
"Yes, sir" she answered quietly.
"A classmate has used it against you in school, then?"
She hesitated... her thoughts drifted back to her early years at school. She was a quiet, studious girl...but there were other girls at school, bigger girls, louder and meaner, girls who didn't like quiet, studious girls. Girls who would use Rictusempra against her until she cried and begged. Not so much in seventh year, now that she was an adult, and nearly a fully qualified witch. But in first year, and a few times in second and third... she shuddered and snapped back to attention.
"Yes, sir."
"You'll find that magic such as this can be used to humiliate and torment. It goes far beyond schoolyard bullying, but this sort of spell is at the root of darker manipulations. Are you beginning to see why the Affectious potion is forbidden?"
"I...I think so, sir."
"I'm afraid that answer is not acceptable." He raised his wand to her again. "Rictusempra!"
She froze immediately, but remained standing, locked in silent laughter. It took a few moments before she fell, and erupted into loud squealing and giggling. Again she pounded at the ground and the air, fighting against the sensations the spell was causing. "Hehehe! Professor...PLEASE...DON'T! Hahaha!" It was maddening, and there was nothing she could do. She felt the tickling everywhere, moving and switching postions on her body with no warning or pattern. It was much worse than anything the schoolgirl bullies, who were mean but inexperienced magicians, had ever inflicted upon her. "Hahahahaha! No, No!! Hahaha, NO!!!"
Though she didn't see a movement from her teacher or hear a word, the tickling suddenly stopped again, and she knew that he could begin and end the Rictusempra spell at any point in time that he chose. It was also obvious that the words had much more power when Professor Snape spoke them. The Rictusempra spells the girls would use to torment her would wear off quickly on their own, and the sensation would be focused on only one or two areas of her body. But just a few seconds of this same spell at the hands of Severus Snape, and she was squealing, begging, losing her mind. She didn't bother getting back up this time. She laid on the floor, gasping and trembling with a sudden excitement that had unexpectedly overwhelmed her.
"It appears that you are a very ticklish young lady indeed," Snape said with a taunting tone. "Rictusempra spells have their appealing qualities, but in my school days, we preferred the old-fashioned method. You can get up now."
Isabelle slowly rose to her feet again. She looked up at her teacher, and suddenly felt a ridiculous temptation to say something foolish, something that would anger her professor and likely worsen her punishment. What on earth is wrong with me?, she thought to herself.
Again he seemed to be sensing her thoughts. He gazed knowingly at her face. "Is something on your mind, Miss Pearl? Do you have something to say to me?"
She bit her lower lip. "No sir, nothing."
"You have learned nothing, then. But rest assured, I have many ways of punishing you into understanding. Follow me."
She trailed behind him, a towering figure in a black cloak, leading her into a nightmare. He had moved past the front room of his chambers, to a smaller, dimly-lit room with a shabby bed covered in graying sheets and blankets. Is this where he slept?, she asked herself. Did he ever sleep?
"Lie down", he commanded, and she quickly skidded around him and flounced down on the bed. "On your back, arms above your head, legs apart." She raised her arms obediently, and slid her legs open, blushing shyly. Her school clothes suddenly felt far too revealing. Professor Snape then crouched down next to her, and produced leather cuffs connected to the legs of the bed by heavy chains. She was unsure if he had conjured them magically, or if he always kept shackles on his bed. He buckled her limbs into each cuff, and she pulled experimentally, testing. She could barely move at all. The words she had heard him say earlier repeated in her mind..."In my school days, we preferred the old-fashioned method."...surely, he couldn't mean...?
"Miss Pearl, I could explore the complicated evils of the Rictusempra spell with you all night, but I think, you may find this a much less abstract method of punishment. I hope, for your sake, you learn your lesson quickly." He glided along the side of the bed, stopping at her feet. He raised his hand, and his long fingers were poised above her helpless, stockinged foot. She couldn't stop herself. Her toes curled, and she broke into giggles before he even touched her.
"Sir!! No, please, I'm begging you! Don't tickle me!"
For the first time, Professor Snape smiled at his young student, and made no efforts at all to conceal his amusement. "Save your requests for your favorite songwriter."
His fingertips delicately traced the arch and sides of her right foot. His touch was electrifying, and the moment his fingers made contact with her foot, she had sucked in her breath and her entire body stiffened, every muscle strained away from his hand. It ached, and she knew there was no point, but she couldn't keep herself from resisting. He was now wriggling his fingertips a breath below her toes, and her twisting and straining became more panicked, as she giggled uncontrollably. She suddenly felt stunningly aware of her vulnerability, and this insight only served to increase her panic...his touch was light, he wasn't tickling her cruelly, she may have posessed the strength to block the sensations, if not for the sudden awareness of her own body, bound and helpless, and the nearness of Professor Snape, her hidden heart's desire, touching her...touching her for the very first time...it had all hit her at once, and her nerves were on fire.
"I can see that you are quite responsive to this form of punishment", he murmured teasingly. "We should begin to make some progress now."
His other hand shot toward her other foot, and she shrieked and stiffened in anticipation. Then she could feel his fingertips dancing along each of her stockinged feet at once, and she had nothing to do but give in. Her mind raced, while her body reacted. She laughed helplessly, shouting "No!...Please!" between her hysterical squeals, and in her mind, a great battle between her fear and her excitement was raging. I am his, she thought, his to torment, there is nothing I can do, there is no escape... it's unbearable...I can't stand it...I love it...
"Losing control of our feelings is not always pleasant, is it, Miss Pearl?" Snape taunted.
"Hehehe! NO!!"
"Should you have successfully administered the Affectious potion you were attempting to make, I would have been affected for 24 hours. Shall I keep tickling you for 24 hours, so that you might know the extent of the damage you were prepared to cause?"
"NO...PLEASE, NO!"
"No? The incomplete potion you turned over to me itself would have affected me for about 20 minutes. Shall I tickle you for twenty minutes, then?"
"Ah hahaha!! NO!!" she cried, but then her thoughts caught up with her frenzied reactions... twenty minutes might not be so bad... "I mean...I - I don't know. How long has it been now?"
Snape smiled wickedly. "I don't know. I haven't been keeping track." And then he stood, and attacked her sides.
She bucked and writhed, squirming and arching her back as her agonizingly ticklish sides were exploited for every squealing, desperate ounce of fight she was worth. Something was boiling deep inside her, ready to break free..."Hahahaha!! No!" She was losing control, it was too much to endure... "Stop it, stop it, please, hehehe...let me go, let me go RIGHT NOW, you nasty, evil, vicious...!"
Professor Snape chuckled and gave the hysterical girl a wide grin. "I told you earlier, Miss Pearl, flattery will get you nowhere. You seem not at all certain of your own heart, or are you? Earlier tonight you told me you liked me, and now, I'm nasty, evil, vicious..?"
"You are ALL of those things!" she shrieked, unable to contain herself..."and I adore you!" She groaned as frustration, and a deeper, intense freedom overwhelmed her.
As suddenly as this rush had come, Professor Snape had retrieved his wand, and with a silent wave, she was free from her shackles. She sat up on his bed, trembling, her breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps.
"Have you learned your lesson, Miss Pearl?"
"Yes, sir", she whispered with a joyful sigh.
"What have you learned from me tonight?"
"I have learned... to be brave, and strong, and that I shouldn't fear my own feelings. That I should be straightforward and true. I...I was wrong to attempt the Affectious potion. I should not have been deceitful, I should not have been tempted to manipulate...I should have told you... Professor, when I called you those names, I didn't mean it...I didn't mean..." Her voice faded, and the emotion overwhelmed her.
"That will do, Miss Pearl. You are correct, you should never fear what lies within your own heart. To do so is to invite despair. There is a part of you that did mean everything you said to me tonight, pleasant or unpleasant, and you should have no fear of that as well. The heart is complicated and confusing, but bury certain aspects of yourself, and you will never get any closer to understanding life's grand secrets."
"You are very wise, sir." She smiled at her teacher, with profound warmth and tenderness. "Thank you. Is there...is there any chance that we will see eacn other again?"
"Of course there is", replied Snape. "We will see each other in classes until the end of the year. Beyond that, I cannot say. Soon you will graduate from this school, and begin a new life, and it is very likely that we will never see each other again."
"Oh, sir!" she cried, "Please don't say that! I would come back..."
"You will do as you feel you must", he said in a strangely gentle tone. "And so will I."
Professor Snape's hand drew from his cloak the small vial she had given him, the unfinished Affectious potion. He spent a moment quietly studying it, and then placed it in her hand. "For a forbidden potion, I must say, it's an impressive effort. It must have taken you a long time to get this far. I trust you will dispose of this properly."
She stared at the potion resting in the palm of her hand. A wild, impulsive feeling surged through her. She looked up at her Professor. And looked back to the vial. She pulled out the stopper.
And before she could think, or hesitate, she swallowed every drop.
The most intense passion filled her until she was brimming, overflowing with every mature emotion that had ever passed through a woman's heart. It was agony, exquisite agony. Her sparkling eyes met the eyes of her stunned teacher.
"Professor...I need you..." she breathed.
Without giving him a chance to answer, she flung her arms around him, and pulled him down with her. "It is possible that I haven't quite learned my lesson yet", she whispered in his ear, and laughed happily.
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