FIC: Corporal Punishment pt 2
Title: Corporal Punishment
Author: roedhunt
Pairing(s): Different ones for each chapter - this one has HG.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: With Voldemort defeated at last, the seventh year students have become – a little unhinged. Can Snape tame their wicked ways?
Highlight for Warnings: - * Old school discipline used - along with a few new ones. Spankings, UST, ginger root, BSDM*





Part Two:


Snape walked back to his desk and leaned against the edge, casually folding his arms.

After eyeing Potter and Malfoy for a moment, he drawled, “Perhaps I should pass my authority down to the next level.”

Malfoy's face shone with understanding whilst Potter’s scrunched in confusion.

“Sir? I don’t understand. What does that mean exactly?” he asked, nervously.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“That means, Mr. Potter, I will allow a prefect to administer the appropriate punishment.”

Potter’s eyes widened then a smile crossed his features until he realised - both of them were prefects. Malfoy sneered as he made that connection as well.

Snape raised his brows. “Well? Are we all in agreement?” A nod was their only answer. “Excellent. Now. Which one of you shall go first,” he said as if he was thinking aloud. One scowled and the other smirked, both knowing exactly who Snape would pick.

“Mr. Malfoy. Because you have seniority, you will go first.”

Snape swore he heard Potter mumble, “Figures,” under his breath.

“Yes, sir,” Malfoy said, slightly bowing his head. He turned to Potter – who was ignoring him – and then looked back at Snape with an expression that clearly asked, “Now what?”

Snape's lips curled, amused, then he waved his wand at the opposite wall. “I am certain you will find everything you need in there, Mr. Malfoy,” he said, indicating a large cupboard, now visible in the back of the room.

With another nod and his ever-present smirk, Malfoy walked as slowly as he could, trying to hide his desire to run. Snape laughed silently. Malfoy stood in front of the cupboard longer than expected before returning, holding a long, thin, leather covered stick that had a square flap, also made of leather, at the end. Potter raised a questioning brow before narrowing his eyes at the sight of Malfoy striking his palm with it.

“Excellent choice, Mr. Malfoy. You may begin.”

Malfoy gave Snape an evil grin until it slowly faded, unsure of what he should do next.

“Might I suggest finding out what Mr. Potter did to earn him this detention?” Snape said with a nonchalant shrug. “Perhaps you could teach him not to let it happen again.”

Potter glared at Snape then to Malfoy with a “Don’t you dare” expression.

“Thank you for that suggestion, Professor Snape,” Malfoy said smugly. He turned to a now furious Harry. “So, Potter, what did you do to earn this punishment?” he sneered, purposely taunting him.

Potter clenched his jaw and said nothing.

“I believe Mr. Malfoy is waiting for an answer, Mr. Potter,” Snape said sharply.

The boy tightened his jaw then said in a harsh voice, “I was caught after hours.”

Malfoy snorted. He obviously needed to dig further.

“And what were you doing when you were caught?”

A full twenty seconds past before Potter answered. “I was with someone, all right?” he snapped.

The evil grin returned. Malfoy would have to follow that line of questioning himself as he knew Potter would not volunteer any more information than that.

“Were you naked?” he asked, delighted to see the shocked expression on Potter’s face.

“No!” he said.

Malfoy merely smirked. “Were you standing?”

“No,” he answered in a low voice.

“Lying down?”

“No.”

“Kneeling?” A pause. Malfoy spoke again, this time slowly, mockingly. “Were you kneeling, Potter?”

Potter's eyes narrowed. “Yes,” he snarled.

A full grin covered Malfoy's face, baring his teeth. “Well, then. Kneel.” Another shocked look and an open mouth followed. “I said, ‘kneel’!”

Gradually, Potter lowered himself to his knees, not once taking his glaring eyes off Malfoy. His only comfort was knowing that no matter what Malfoy would do to him, he would be the one to retaliate.

“Well done, Potter,” Malfoy said, patting him on his head. Potter flinched and looked away, disgusted. “Now. What were you doing on your knees?” Malfoy asked, rubbing the tip of the crop against Potter’s jaw. Silence. “Were you kissing someone?” Still no response, but Potter did manage to shake his head. “Were you…” Malfoy paused for effect. “using your mouth?”

Potter's mouth fell open.

“Your tongue?”

Potter quickly snapped his mouth shut.

“I see,” Malfoy replied, drawing out the last word. “Was any other part of your … body used?” As an after thought, he added, “Or exposed?” He almost laughed out loud at Potter's disgusted expression. Potter shook his head, but then nodded.

"My hands."

“So let me see if I understand correctly,” Malfoy began, as he started a slow pace around Potter, tapping the crop lightly on his palm. “You were on your knees, kneeling,” he emphasised again. “in front of someone, using your hands, and your tongue.” He stopped in front of Potter. “Is that an accurate assessment of the situation?”

Potter's eyes hardened. Malfoy sounded too much like Snape. “Yes.”

With a satisfied nod and a small snort, Malfoy turned to Snape. “Professor. Would you be so kind as to assist me?” he asked, pointing to Potter’s knees. “I don’t believe I am allowed to use magic here.” He paused. “Or am I?”

“I have no objection, Mr. Malfoy.”

Malfoy turned his focus back to Potter who was staring at Snape. “Potter,” he said, gaining back his attention.

Malfoy pulled out his wand and pointed it at Potter's knees. Sharp pieces of gravel appeared and Potter gasped, losing his balance briefly before finding a somewhat stable – and somewhat more comfortable - position. He growled.

“That’s better,” Malfoy mused. “Now, Potter. Hold out you hands, palms facing up.”

Potter clenched his jaw and held out his hands. Instantly, the crop struck one of them.

“Ow! Fuck, Malfoy!” he cried, shaking his injured hand.

“Language, Mr. Potter. I’m afraid that just earned you five more,” Snape said smugly. This was turning out better than he had expected.

“Now hold them up and do not move them again,” Malfoy ordered.

Potter nervously held them out again. He squeezed his eyes tight and winced as another smack echoed in his ears, slightly harder than the first. Over and over the leather flap fell down on his palms until he was reduced to tears - part from the assaults and part from the rough gravel digging into his knees.

Snape refrained from complimenting Malfoy on a job well done.

It was a few moments before it finally dawned on Potter that the torture was over. He never would have guessed that it was only about fifteen strikes - it felt like more.

“You may lower your hands now, Potter,” came the famous drawl.

Potter blinked and immediately shook his hands as if that would lessen the pain. He actually thanked Malfoy mentally for not mentioning his tears. Malfoy did snort, however.

“Now,” Malfoy said, amusement in his voice. “Stick out your tongue.”

“WHAT?” Potter screamed.

“I believe you heard him correctly, Mr. Potter,” Snape said dryly. “I would suggest you respond immediately. You wouldn’t want another five added to this, would you?”

Malfoy quietly sniggered. Potter gaped at his professor who sitting back comfortably in his chair. Potter turned back and reluctantly slid out his tongue.

“Impressive, Potter. I just hope your girlfriend will understand why you won't be able to use it for a while,” Malfoy taunted, knowing it would get a rise out of Potter. And it did. Potter quickly withdrew his tongue. Malfoy glanced down at Potter's groin. “You might have to let her …”

Snape cleared his throat loudly, silencing Malfoy - who actually had the sense to blush whilst nodding his agreement at his immature would-be suggestion. Malfoy regained his composure before turning back to Potter.

“Potter?” he said, raising a brow.

The other boy took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and held out his tongue. He flinched again when his head was jerked back so his face would be spared.

“How kind of Malfoy,” Snape thought with a vocalised snort.

Potter yelped when the first smack landed. It didn't exactly hurt, but it stung like hell. He took several more breaths and tensed in expectation. He wasn’t disappointed. He swayed as he desperately tried to remain still and tears once again fell silently down his cheeks. The strikes weren't as hard as the ones to his hands, but no one would've been able to convince him otherwise.

When Potter was absolutely sure it was over, he hunched over, covering his mouth the best he could with his numb hands. He mumbled continuously, apparently massaging his tongue the vibrations of his voice. But to Malfoy's surprise, he suddenly realised Potter was actually whimpering. Malfoy and Snape exchanged a quick glance and Snape sneered and shook his head at the cowering boy. After two long minutes, Potter sat straight up, wiped his eyes and glanced at the gravel then glared up at him. Malfoy rolled his eyes, waved his wand, and the rocks disappeared.

Incredibly, Potter jumped to his feet – pain be damned. He snatched the crop out of Malfoy’s hand, grimacing as he did, and stepped back.

“Now, Malfoy. It’s my turn,” he said with a slight lisp.

Malfoy lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. He folded his arms loosely over his chest.

“What did you do?” Potter said, trying to keep his voice sounding as normal as possible.

Malfoy smirked. “I was caught after hours same as you. And yes, I was with someone.”

“And what were you doing?” Potter asked, smugly.

Malfoy’s smirked widened. “Nothing.”

Potter narrowed his eyes. “What were they doing?”

Malfoy opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted.

“They are not in detention, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy is,” Snape warned.

Potter grunted. He thought for a moment, then grinned. “Were you naked?”

“No,” came the amused answer.

Potter frowned then grinned mischievously. “Was any part of your body exposed?”

Malfoy’s smirk faded and he said nothing.

Snape sighed. “Mr. Malfoy, answer the question,” he said in a bored voice.

Malfoy tried to keep his expression neutral. “Yes.”

“I see,” Potter said, mimicking Malfoy's earlier words.

He quickly glanced at Malfoy's groin then to his face and raised an eyebrow. Malfoy narrowed his eyes and nodded sharply. Potter gave him a satisfied smirk and headed over to the cupboard. He walked back and held out a leather strap in the shape of three rings.

“Do you know what this is, Malfoy?” The other boy’s lips tightened and remained silent. Potter leaned forward and whispered, “Take it out, Malfoy, and get it hard.”

Malfoy stared at him in disbelief then looked over at Snape. The man’s face revealed no emotion. Malfoy swallowed hard. He bent his head to hide his embarrassment and pulled his flaccid penis out. He tugged on it a few times until it finally responded. He stood up straight once he was convinced it could get no harder, crossed his arms over his chest again and glared defiantly. Potter stepped forward and Malfoy flinched but moved no further.

Snape concealed his smile at his student's arrogant behaviour.

Concentrating on his task, Potter clasped the largest loop snugly against the base of Malfoy’s erection and then fastened the other two around his balls, separating them. Potter studied his handiwork then shook his head. He tightened each one a little more until a small gasp was heard. Yes, that was tight enough.

This time, Snape couldn’t hide the sharp intake of air. Fortunately, neither one heard it.

Potter stepped back again. Malfoy's prick was straining and turning a nice shade of purple whilst his balls were painfully enlarged, swollen in their sac. Potter smiled wickedly and conjured up a pillow. Fortunately, Snape said nothing about him using magic without asking. Potter knelt down for the second time that day, ignoring the dull throbbing in his knees. Potter reached up and cupped Malfoy's engorged balls with his fingers. He stroked them gently with the end of the crop. Malfoy gasped.

“No!” Malfoy cried, now fully realising what Potter had in mind.

Potter nodded. “Oh, yes, Malfoy,” he said with a low chuckle and tapped his flesh to make his point.

“Fuck, Potter! That fucking hurts!”

As to be expected, Snape didn’t say anything about Malfoy’s language. However, if Potter had looked over at his professor just then, he would have seen Snape's hands disappear underneath his desk.

“Do you need something to hold onto, Malfoy?” Potter mocked. “Something to clench your teeth on?”

Malfoy’s hands turned into fists by his side. “No I don’t, you…” he stopped to whisper, “you fucking piece of shit.”

Potter laughed. He began flicking the end of the crop carefully on each ball, watching Malfoy's face cringe with anticipation for the worst. He wondered how long it would take before Malfoy started crying. Potter tapped them with a little more force. Malfoy cried out then gritted his teeth. Tears finally began to fall.

Neither one heard the contented sigh in the distance.

Potter continued his tapping in a slow but steady pace. Finally, Malfoy wavered slightly and Potter looked up at his face. Malfoy's eyes were closed and he was biting so hard on his lower lip that it bled. Potter inwardly sighed, stopped and released his abused balls. Malfoy batted his eyes several times to focus properly. He looked down at Potter, not in anger but almost … in relief? Potter looked back at him with a hint of sympathy – though not too much.

Potter gripped Malfoy's cock, squeezed it, then gradually stroked the length, pausing to tease the swollen glans. Malfoy's eyes widened and Potter gave him a genuine smile. Malfoy scrunched his brows together, confused. But before Malfoy could ask what the fuck was Potter playing at, Potter lightly smacked the tip with the crop. Malfoy yelped. Potter tapped Malfoy's cock over and over again - with not as much force as Malfoy imagined – making sure every inch was struck. Malfoy’s cock wasn’t as sensitive or as delicate as his balls, but the repetitive action was beginning to take its toll.

Snape closed his eyes and moaned softly.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Potter stopped and rose to his feet. He caressed the hot flesh a few times, eliciting a moan out of the blond. It seemed that Malfoy had enjoyed it. Interesting. As soon as Potter released Malfoy’s restraints, he sank to the floor, holding his precious, injured privates. Potter looked down and wondered if Malfoy was still crying ... or maybe he was just hiding his excitement.

Malfoy’s back rose and fell several times before gaining his composure and stood in front of Potter. He smirked as he tucked his still hard penis back in his trousers. Potter was right. Malfoy did enjoy this abuse!

Malfoy faced Snape. Potter followed suit.

Snape slowly placed both hands on top of his desk and clasped his fingers together.

“Dismissed.”

Both boys stared at their professor for half a second, noticing the way his face was flushed. In that brief moment, a dawn of comprehension crossed both of their minds simultaneously.

Once outside Snape's office, Malfoy pushed Potter hard enough for him to stumble forward and land painfully on his knees.

“Fuck, Malfoy! What the hell did you do that for?”

“You stupid prick! I TOLD you somebody was listening!”

“I thought it was a fourth year!”

“Why? Just because you heard them wanking?”

“Well, yeah.”

Draco scoffed as he threw his arms up and cursed all the way to the Slytherin dorm.

Harry called out, “How the fuck was I suppose to know it was Snape?”

part three



part one