Title: Pineapple
Pairing: Hermione/Severus
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: roleplay, consent play, knife/blood play. Play play play!
Word count: 1047
Notes: Done for the HP Anonymous Kinks Meme at karmicsunshine. Prompt: Hermione/Snape, non-con play, rope bondage, S&M. Remember, folks, it's the sub who's got the power, so can we please let Hermione not be all weak and weepy? This is one of the select het pairings that doesn't scare me away on sight, and I had the wild and adventurous urge to write some het, and out popped this strange little thing. o_O Thanks to nolagal for lending her beta skills!

Hermione tested the ropes binding her wrists together above her head; they were tight and just a little scratchy, sure to cause chafing if she struggled against them.

The ropes around her wrists weren't the largest of her worries, however; what really made her nervous was the complex network of ropes crisscrossing her hips and upper thighs and effectively fixing her to the bed. She couldn't have lifted her hips if she'd wanted to, and her legs were permanently spread wide open. These ropes were marginally softer, but she'd find it virtually impossible to avoid straining against them.

The door opened and she tensed, suddenly feeling twice as exposed. Severus Snape looked at her for long moments with hooded eyes before slowly unbuttoning the tiny buttons at the cuffs of his robes, and then slowly, deliberately moving to the placket of his robes and working the button at his throat out of its hole with meticulous precision. He repeated the motion at the next button, and the next, slowly revealing the creamy white shirt underneath. When he had shed the robes, he set in on his trousers with the same deliberation, and then his shirt.

On the bed, Hermione whined.

"That's right, love, you can tell what's coming next, can't you?" Severus smiled, a frightening, cold stretch of the mouth. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me... tied up so prettily and left here, as if waiting just for me." He shed his last item of clothes, toed off his socks and folded them, then stalked to the bed and leaned down to whisper huskily in her ear. "Don't worry, love. I'll make sure you enjoy it."

Hermione's eyes sparked. "You'll never!"

"We'll see about that." He leaned over her, his already hard prick brushing briefly against her abdomen, and caressed the length of her body in long, leisurely strokes.

Hermione squirmed to get away from his touch, but the ropes held her in place. Severus chuckled and flattened his palm over her bare breast.

"Perhaps you'd appreciate something a bit less… soft." From somewhere within the folds of the bedsheets he produced a tiny blade, holding it up to her for a moment that stretched indefinitely as she took in its glittering edge and wicked point.

He lowered it deliberately, making his intention perfectly clear, and Hermione flinched away.

"No, please. Anything, just don't cut me."

"Anything? A bit premature, aren't we? You haven't even had a taste." The knife completed its downward journey uninterrupted and he drew it across the line of her clavicle, beads of blood springing up in its wake.

Hermione hissed in a breath, and Severus repeated the cut, a bit deeper this time, on the other side.

"Fuck," Hermione bit out. "I said no cutting."

"Oh, but you like it." Severus dipped his fingers into her wetness, and she stifled another whine.

"There's nothing you could do to make me like this," she countered.

Severus didn't speak, but crawled down the bed until he was seated between her spread thighs. Hermione arched her neck, unable to see from this angle what he was doing with his hands—or the knife.

"Relax, love," he said. "This won't hurt a bit."

The blade bit into the flesh of her inner thigh without warning and she cried out. She could feel the point moving, drawing a white-hot line behind it, and then it was gone. A moment passed as the feeling seemed to flare brighter, and then it was replaced by a wet, stinging heat as Severus bent to lap up the blood collecting on the scratch. Hermione moaned.

When he did it again on the other leg she was prepared, and held in her cry, determined to give him no satisfaction, but she couldn't stop the flush of heat to her groin as he used his tongue on her again.

The third time he cut her, switching back to the first leg, she gasped, it wasn't fair. "You've done two, stop—stop!" The last word came out half a moan as his mouth descended on her again.

"Stop!" she cried again as he traced a fourth white-hot line, not as long this time but farther up her thigh. When he licked the blood, his cheek brushed against the outside of her widespread labia.

"Fuck, stop now," she groaned.

"Told you I'd make you like it," he said. "And I've barely started."

"I don't… like… it," she ground out as he made another pair of tiny cuts. She wasn't sure how much more of this torture she could stand.

"I bed to differ," he crooned, and lowered his mouth on her dripping cunt.

God, so hot.

The ropes bit into Hermione's hips as she thrashed, testing them—but no, there was no escaping that enveloping mouth and wicked tongue.

"Just don't—don't." Because fuck, it did feel good, and there was nothing she could do to stop that.

Severus swept his tongue up the center of her slit and paused to flick the point against her clit. She was beyond protesting coherently now; all she could manage as he repeated the move was a string of soft grunts that sounded a bit like no, no, no, no.

In the end, it wasn't his tongue that did her in; it was him placing his hands on her inner thighs, right where he'd used the tiny knife, applying just enough pressure to renew the ache, just as he closed his lips over her taut clit. The twinned sensations bled together as they rushed toward her brain, and she knew if he did that one more time—and he liked repetition—she wouldn't be able to hang on any longer.

"Pineapple!" she cried.

Severus looked up at her, startled. "What is it? I thought we were doing well."

"A bit too well." Hermione groaned. "Now get up here and fuck me properly before I explode, you old bastard."

"We've still got to work on your endurance," Severus muttered, tracing his thumb over the red lines on her leg. "Truly appalling how quickly you cave…"

"Old perfectionist bastard," Hermione amended. "Get up here now or else there'll never be more work."