You gave me this - Made me give - Your silver grin

drabble

2007-08-06T06:55:38Z

Not beautiful writing. Just a drunken gin intoxicated drabble.

Hermione/Snape... NONCON

She was only twelve.

Loud mouthed and frizzy haired.

But still twelve.

A fucking pain in the neck.

Still twelve.

What was twelve years anyway?

Nothing.

She meant nothing.

Nothing. He assured himself.

Nothing.

He watched her mouth as he entered her.

Twelve.

It was open. Slack. Astonished.

Better than questioning.

Yes. Much better.

Tight. Wet. Admittedly by the spell he had cast, but wet none-the-less.

Felt good. Really good.

Twelve.

He cared no longer.

A jerk. A half thrust.

Whimpering. And twelve.

She deserved this.

His mind clouded.

“Will you question me again.”

More a statement.

He shuddered.

“No.”

Sobbing.

Good. He thought.

“I thought not.”

Hartless JP/SB, JP/PP, SB/LE

2007-08-06T06:45:47Z

Written for hp_free_for_all

Title: Hartless
Author: siriuslysnogged
Gift For: fazkleto
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Non/Dub con (light), wanking, alcohol induced relations
Pairing(s): main pairing; James/Peter, off-pairing(s); James/Sirius, Sirius/Lily
PROMPT: During Marauder's Era - Peter has always been obsessed with James. A short piece where they are locked in somewhere isolated and slashy things happen. It would be good if you also looked at Peter as not necessarily evil at this point, although perhaps he may be jealous of Sirius and Lily. What James' reaction to the encounter is depends on you - is James shocked by Peter's advances? does he give in? does he decide to use Peter because Lily/Sirius don't put out? does he make the first move? do they argue? or does James return Peter's feelings?
Betas: bewarethesmirk and illyriabeta
Author's notes: Hartless is a play on words (although badly I admit), Hart is uncommonly used to refer to a male deer. I couldn't help myself -facepalm-

_{Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling and various publishers. No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.}

“Go… to your own bed, Jamesss,” Sirius slurred in the dark.

“Uh… kay.”

James was barely conscious, the drunken haze consuming him quickly. He felt uncomfortably sticky and realized his torso was splattered with the combination of his and Sirius’ semen. The heady smell of their tryst permeated heavily in the air.

Shit. Not again.

He inwardly groaned and stumbled across the hard floor to the comfort of his own bed. He knew tomorrow he’d have to deal with the consequences of his alcohol induced actions.

*****************************************

He awoke late and was grateful to realise that he was the only one left in the dorm room.

I need a shower. I smell of spunk…

He rubbed his throbbing temples. Why had he decided to drink so much last night? He could only remember fragments of what had occurred after he and Sirius had returned from drinking themselves silly at Hogsmeade.

Awkward kisses. Sirius telling him that he preferred girls. Them arguing about the meaning of what they were doing. Blackness. The sound of heavy breathing. The feel of Sirius’ hand wrapped around him. The overwhelming smell of musky arousal. Sirius telling him to go.

Godsdamnit, what the hell have I done? Sirius is going to avoid me for weeks…

*****************************************

After a long hot shower brooding about Sirius, James decided it would make much more sense to try and talk with him.

It didn’t take long to find him and Remus sitting together in the Great Hall. Sirius was showing Remus a piece of parchment with a gleeful expression plastered on his face. Remus looked apprehensive.

“All right, Remus?” James laughed as he walked up to the table.

“Fine, actually.” Remus gave James a small smile and flicked his gaze back to the parchment, which Sirius crumpled instantly.

“See you later, Moony,” Sirius said, getting up from the table quickly.

He didn’t even look at me…

James sighed as he watched Sirius saunter through the great oak doors out of the castle. He glanced back at Remus who was fingering his silverware nervously.

“What’s he so excited about?” James asked, trying to sound casual.

“He uh… got a note from some girl,” Remus answered, not meeting his eye.

“That’s nothing new.” James laughed a bit too forcefully.

He didn’t really care that Sirius was off to see some bird. In fact, if anything, he was glad Sirius was off to reassert his ‘manliness’. But it really bothered him that he was being ignored in the process, that and Remus’ obvious uneasiness.

He knows that something has happened between Sirius and me… He thinks I’m going to be upset that Sirius is off with some girl!

“I need to go study in the library,” Remus said suddenly, obviously attempting to change the subject, “Do you want to come with me?”

“Nah…” James shrugged, failing to come up with an excuse of why he wasn’t interested in going.

“Alright, catch you later,” Remus paused and then continued quietly, “He should be heading towards the Forbidden Forest.”

Am I really that transparent?

“Uh, see you later then,” James answered, feigning indifference. He turned and followed the path Sirius had taken earlier out the wooden doors.

*****************************************

His breath blew in wispy puffs against the cool air. Brightly coloured leaves littered the ground and crunched as James made his way towards the dark forest. He walked as quickly as possible without breaking into a jog, he didn’t want to seem too anxious should anyone see him and wonder what he was up to.

“W-where you heading, James?” A squeaky voice called from behind him.

Damn. Why does he always show up at the worst possible time?

He stopped momentarily and allowed Peter to catch up with him.

“I’m really busy Peter. Remus is in the library… I’ll meet you both there later.”

“Er… can’t I just walk with you and we can meet Remus later, together?” Peter looked at him hopefully.

“No. Now don’t follow me… I need to be alone,” James said defensively, hoping that Peter would for once listen to him.

“Fine,” Peter snapped.

James shrugged apologetically and walked briskly into the woods. He hoped that Sirius wasn’t too far in already; he wanted to catch him before he met up with the bird.

If he’s already with her I’ll have to just sit there and wait until they are finished. That would be awkward…

He shook his head of the thought and increased his pace. He fought down the urge to call out for Sirius, not wanting to look like a desperate and spurned lover.

It isn’t like that at all. I just want to bloody talk to him and get this all sorted out.

He was beginning to feel frustrated when he heard it. Voices. More specifically, Sirius’ voice.

“…meet me here?”

James heard Sirius ask. He held his breath and crept forward, trying to locate the sound.

“Because I have something for you.”

The bird. But not just any bird, the voice was achingly familiar and in a panic he pushed forward to confirm his fears.

Bright red hair and electric green eyes. Lily. His heart stopped. She looked nervous, staring at her shoes as she dug a toe in the ground.

“What do you have for me?”

Sirius was grinning rakishly. James had the immediate urge to smack the moronic look right off Sirius’ smug face.

James cursed himself for never confiding to Sirius just how he felt for Lily. Sure, he had told him that he thought she was attractive, even that he wanted to ‘bone her’ in traditional boyish drivel, but he and Sirius always competed for girls. It was just a game, seeing who you could get to bed you. Admitting you actually had feelings for someone just wasn’t very manly. The teasing he would have had to endure. He would gladly endure it now to spare him of this.

Not her. Anyone but her. Why her!?

His fists clenched at his sides as Lily’s cheeks turned pink and she turned her gaze to Sirius.

“I… well I…” she started, licking her lips nervously. She didn’t have to finish, Sirius was already closing the distance and pressing his lips to hers.

No! Fucking bastard! I’ll kill them both!

James clutched his wand and squeezed his eyes shut in agony. His heart hammered and clenched painfully. He struggled to control his breathing. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t rush in and stop them. It would ruin everything.

He would never forgive me… She would never speak to me again… It’s all my fault anyway.

A low growl brought his attention out of his thoughts. Sirius’ hand was working its way up Lily’s skirt. James couldn’t tell where her hands were, but from the way her arms were moving he didn’t think he wanted to know.

I shouldn’t be watching this. Turn away damn it… just turn away.

“Oh! Ohhhh, Siriussss!” Lily’s low whimpering hit him like a ton of bricks.

He knew where Sirius’ hand was now.

“Fuck Lily…” Sirius responded in a throaty groan.

Bile rose up and burned James’ throat. He couldn’t take anymore of this. Spinning around abruptly he stumbled off in the opposite direction.

He ran unsteadily for a minute before slumping heavily against a tree. His sharp intakes of breath stung painfully.

Calm down you idiot. It’s not the end of the world. Just your best friend and the girl of your dreams shagging like rabbits.

He chuckled to himself bitterly.

“James?”

Who the fu-

He whirled around in dismay.

“Bloody hell, Peter! Didn’t I make myself clear earlier?” James snarled in fury.

“Listen, James, they don’t deserve you! You aren’t just some dumb pretty boy,” Peter said softly, “Y-you’re so smart and funny…and handsome!” Peter finished in a rush.

James stood there, his mouth hanging open in shock.

Before he could get a firm grasp on the words that were spinning around in his mind Peter surged forward and embraced him. His eyes widened and he looked down at the shorter boy in confusion.

“Ugh…” he protested as Peter proceeded in giving him a very sloppy and wet kiss.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” James growled and pushed Peter away.

“I-I… just wanted to make you feel better,” Peter stuttered and then continued hastily, “I know what you and Sirius do when you’ve been drinking!”

“How the hell… Peter, you bloody pervert! How dare you spy on me!?”

He knew he was being ridiculous. That it was obvious what had occurred. If Remus had any inclination, then Peter most definitely did too.

“Please, James… I’m sorry! It’s hard not to notice when we all share a dorm room… I wasn’t trying…Pl-”

Peters face was contorted with anguish and it sickened him. Or maybe he sickened himself.

“Just shut up!” He cut Peter off angrily.

He buried his face in his hands and tried to slow his breathing.

Don’t think of Lily. Don’t think of his hands on Lily. Don’t think of what they are doing now. Hold it in... Don’t.

He burst into angry tears.

“Fuck!” he cried, sinking to his knees.

Warm arms enveloped him as he rocked back and forth methodically. His brain was sluggish and hazy; failing to register the soft stroking of his hair and the low whispers in his ear.

“It will be okay… let me make it okay…” Peter murmured.

James felt a small warm hand slip down into his loose trousers. He should’ve resisted. Should have pushed Peter away and told him to sod off right then and there. But he didn’t. Instead he continued to cry in Peter’s arms and just relish in being held. Comforted.

“No…” he groaned as his body started to react to Peter’s touch.

“Shh… just let me make it okay,” Peter repeated softly.

James’ cock was now stiff and willing as Peter stroked it rhythmically.

Wrong. This is wrong. Push him away. Now!

James lifted his hand to grasp Peter’s wrist but failed to pull it away. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, cursing his traitorous body. It felt good. Really good. The familiar noises of wet skin-on-skin filled the silence.

Pretend it’s Lily. Pretend it’s Sirius. God pretend it’s anyone but Peter.

But images of red hair and green eyes wouldn’t stick in his mind. Nor would bright grey eyes and a doglike grin. Instead his thoughts stuck on a certain rounded boyish body and an overly pointy nose.

I do NOT find Peter attractive! No. Never. He’s positively disgusting! With those repulsive watery brown eyes and that stupid unsure smile…

James was horrified when his penis throbbed in excitement.

“D-do you like that, James?” Peter asked in a breathy whisper.

James tried to tell Peter that, no, he didn’t like being molested by someone who didn’t look like they’d even reached puberty, but all that came out was an incoherent jumble.

His body thrummed in anticipation, the nagging thoughts whirling around his brain quickly dissipating.

Oh fuck… going to come. Spill all over the inside of my pants…

He didn’t care. James’ back arched as he thrust upward to completion. He grunted loudly as all of his pent-up frustrations released themselves in a few quick bursts. Somewhere off in the distance he heard a loud doglike howl and realised in horror that someone else had found their release too.

Freshly renewed fury surged through him even as his body trembled from his orgasm and he fought to catch his breath.

“Godsdamnit, Peter, let me go!” he growled as he ripped Peter’s hand away from his spent penis.

Peter’s ragged breathing hitched and it annoyed James terribly. He rose suddenly and turned towards Peter with a glare.

“Are you deaf or does ‘no’ just not mean anything to you?” James spat viciously as Peter cowered. He noticed that Peter’s trousers were tented in the front and felt the compulsion to kick him hard in the groin.

“J-James…” Peter whimpered.

“No, Peter! Get out of my sight and go fuck yourself,” James snarled pointing to Peter suggestively. “Imagine me tied up and screaming for you to stop if you must.”

He knew he was being exceedingly cruel, but he didn’t care. The pain inside was throbbing through him in pulsing spikes. Taking it out on Peter was easy. A wonderful distraction from what was truly devastating him.

It’s Peter’s fault. All of it!

Peter’s brown eyes welled up with tears as James turned away to stalk off through the forest.

James didn’t hear the soft words that the devastated boy vowed,

“I’ll get you back for this one day, James.”

~FIN~

Taste: NC-17 SS/HG, RL/HG, SB/HG

2007-08-06T05:53:10Z

Title: "Taste"
Pairing: Snape/Hermione (main pairing), Lupin/Hermione, Sirius/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Summary: In a desperate attempt to help three broken men in her life Hermione destroys herself.
Warnings: Angst, Minor/Adult relations (Hermione is 15), Dubious Consent, Very Mild Violence
Wordcount: Approx 2,700
Author Notes: Everything you recognize owned by J.K. Rowling - odd plot is all by me. BETA: Illyria

It started because she could no longer bear to see the emptiness in their eyes: black, amber, and grey irises all showing the same despair, bitterness, and hurt. The three men so different from one another, but in a basic sense completely the same. She knows better than to hope that she can actually fix them, she knows that this is only to offer them a distraction.

Fucking Severus tastes like anger. He starts out with harsh and demanding kisses, as if daring her to refuse him now. He insists on using his hands to make her orgasm before mounting her. She knows this is the way he justifies how he treats her afterwards.

His fingers are long, spider like, and skilled. She’s always amazed at how gently those fingers explore her wetness, brushing lightly against her hard nub until she’s whimpering for more. Despite the softness of his ministrations he continues to assault her mouth with his own. He tells her that he hates her for doing this to him, for making him do this to her.

The first time had been the hardest. Approaching him was beyond terrifying, even if she had spent the entire month on testing his reactions to her. ‘Accidental’ touches, vague off colour remarks, and holding his penetrating gaze for far longer than deemed appropriate were all taken by him in a quiet recognition.

At fifteen, the only sex she’d experienced had been through reading books. She understood the venerability of the act, the giving up oneself for the sake of another. She appreciated the desire, acceptance, and closeness that offering her self could give. Hermione also knew that Severus Snape, although surly and unapproachable, was a man with human wants and needs.

She had formulated a plan to be caught down by his private quarters as he returned from his nightly duty of monitoring the halls. She donned only a thick black cloak to shield her from the cold of the dungeons and to hide her incase of being spotted by someone other than Snape.

“What do you think you are doing down here after curfew Miss Granger?” Although it had come out as a hiss she could hear a hint of trepidation in his otherwise steely voice.

“Looking for you, Professor Snape, sir.” She had quickly unclasped the cloak and let it fall to her feet, revealing her naked body to him.

It had all happened quickly after that. Him pushing her backwards into his room while whispering angrily that she didn’t have a clue who she was dealing with and if she insisted on playing with fire she would undoubtedly be burned.

She had fought to keep her courage and wits about her as he aggressively nipped and sucked at her mouth.

“Scared, Miss Granger?” His voice had been mocking as he tore away his clothes.

As his fingers had slipped inside of her she saw a dawning of realization spread across his harsh features. His brows furrowed and he glared down at her before hissing,

“Trying to villianise me, Hermione? What are you trying to prove!?”

She had shaken her head quickly while reaching up to touch his face but he had angrily grasped her wrist.

“You stupid girl! If this is some foolish attempt of yours to compromise my position, I assure you, I will have none of it!”

He had dropped her wrist and backed away.

“No! Please sir, I am not trying to scandalise you.”

“You will not say anything about this to anybody.”

“No. I want this.” She hadn’t been sure that was entirely truthful. She certainly wouldn’t discuss what happened between them, but she didn’t think she wanted this anymore. She just didn’t want the humiliation of being thrown out.

“What ever it is you imagine your feelings are, you aren’t in love with me Granger.”

He’d closed the distance he had created between them and placed his fingertips back between her legs.

Gasping slightly she’d mumbled, “No... I know.”

This was never about love, only a ridiculous desperation to help in some way. She hadn’t voiced those reasons, however.

He had guided her back onto the bed.

“Lie down. Don’t speak.”

She’d obeyed quickly and tried to push down the panicky feeling that had suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks.

He’d shifted to lie down beside her and then resumed manipulating her genitals. He had went slowly watching her for signs of discomfort or pleasure and responding accordingly. She’d been taken by surprise as a mind numbing sensation had consumed her and left her trembling and aching beside him.

His face had been blank and inscrutable as he’d moved to position himself above her.

“This is going to hurt. You are aware?”

He hadn’t waited for an answer, instead pushing quickly into her. The feeling of being impaled, ripped in two made her arms involuntarily shoot upwards in a feeble attempt to push him away. He’d ignored her and bucked up roughly to tear through the last bit of closed flesh.

“Ssssss… ahhh…” she’d cried stiffening underneath him in pain.

“I told you.” He hadn’t let up, thrusting as far as possible inside of her. He’d mostly been silent, with only an occasional strangled noise slipping out.

She’d kept her eyes tightly closed and grated her teeth together. It was too much and she had felt so foolish for believing she could give this without regret.

He’d finished with a hiss and she’d felt a burning liquid sensation searing her raw insides.

He’d then transfigured a sheet into a modest night gown and insisted she leave. She’d tried not to feel hurt and used, after all it was her idea to do this in the first place. It’d been her idea to sacrifice herself for him.

**************************

Making love to Remus tastes like sorrow. Getting Remus to penetrate her is a tedious process, taking every ounce of patience she possesses to reassure him that it’s okay; that this is what they both need.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he mumbles, while she pushes down his trousers.

“You have before,” Hermione replies simply.

“Yes… I’m so sorry. You are so young…” He continues to mumble incoherently and all she catches is words like ‘wrong’, ‘sorry’, and something about ‘destroyed innocence’.

“You weren’t the first.” She’s stroking him to hardness now and placing delicate kisses around his jawbone.

She’s become slightly cold and hollow from her time spent with Severus. She doesn’t even realise it, that her eyes have slowly taken on the very look she was trying to wipe away from Snape’s own.

“Can I ask who was?” Lupin’s breathing is becoming heavier and his hands begin to brush against the nub between her legs.

“No.”

He gives her a questioning glance but doesn’t push the subject.

“We shouldn’t be doing this…” he murmurs while thrusting into her hand and pushing a firm finger inside her.

His mouth is soft and tentative against hers and she feels relief that they are at the point of no return. She feels his body tensing and fighting against his desire to ravish her. She can see the fear in his eyes and knows he is concerned that he will hurt her, fuck her with reckless abandon that leaves her bloody and torn.

“It’s okay… do it,” she whispers while grinding herself against his hand.

He removes his hand and positions himself carefully over her. He’s painfully slow and gentle, whispering his apologies all the while into her ear. He feels thick, blunt, and slightly twisted.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?” He chews on his lower lip and watches her face warily.

“You aren’t hurting me,” she replies trying to keep the irritation she feels out of her voice.

The first time with Remus had been the easiest. She’d gone to stay at Grimmauld Place with Harry and Ron and one late night she had discovered him staring blankly into the fire. She’d sat down beside him, took his hand, and squeezed it gently.

“Hello Hermione. You couldn’t sleep either I suppose?” His voice had been weary. He’d turned his face to look at her.

Instead of replying she’d leaned in and pressed her mouth to his. He had let out a startled noise but made no attempt to move away. She’d pushed his hand up under her night dress and used the other hand to unfasten his trousers.

No words had been exchanged. He’d pulled off her knickers and helped her disrobe himself. Soon he’d been squirming desperately on top of her, pushing and panting with his eyes squeezed shut.

After it was over she’d ran back to her room quickly. She hadn’t wanted to hear any apologies or be asked any questions.

After that incident he’d avoided her, but whenever she managed to catch his amber eyes she noticed a fire within. It pleased her, after all wasn’t that fire the reason for all of this?

“I’m sorry,” he says again softly while burying his face into her hair.

She ignores him and pushes her hips up into him rigorously, enjoying the way his breath catches in his throat and his body tenses in pleasure. He pushes his hand between to rub at her clit.

“Keep doing that,” she breathes heavily, happy that he’s no longer apologising or going too slowly.

A warm tingle is spreading through her and she can feel all her muscles begin to tense in anticipation. The wave hits and she loses herself in the sensation, an involuntary moan escapes and she’s surprised at how animalistic she sounds. He moves his hand away when she is done and tangles it in her hair.

His thrusts are still gentle but quickly picking up speed; she watches the way he’s biting down on his lower lip to keep from making noise. It saddens her that he is so afraid of himself. With determination she bucks her hips up into him roughly and claws at his back. She wants him to just let go, just give in like she does for him. It works, his eyes glaze over and he groans deeply.

“Hermione…” he groans; his body jerking and twisting as he finishes.

She knows this is the last time for them. At least for a long while. Remus has business to do for the Order and won’t be around Grimmauld Place for the rest of her stay. She feels guilty, aware that this saddens him more than her.

Her heart has a dull ache but she can’t place the feeling. Is it because of all the lying she has had to do? Harry and Ron are fairly easy to fool; they chalk it up to girl issues. But the distrusting eyes of Ginny and Mrs. Weasley are getting to her. Maybe the ache is from the slow realization that no, she isn’t okay. She’s never felt so vacant or broken as she does now. The worst is that she has done this to herself, and there’s nothing else to do but keep going.

**************************

Having sex with Sirius tastes like need. He holds no emotion back as he pumps into her. His face is contorted and he is never quiet. She often wonders why no one questions him about his nighttime howling, they have to hear this!

Sirius is the polar opposite of Remus. He goes too fast and comes on too strong. The words ‘slow down’ don’t seem to mean anything to him, so she doesn’t use them anymore.

After the first time he seemed to corner her every chance he got, and following a close encounter with a daytime session in his kitchen she was forced to tell him she would only allow this at nighttime, AFTER everyone had gone to sleep.

“You make me feel so good…” he whispers in her ear. This should please her, but the words feel empty. Or maybe it’s just her.

He’s grunting and writhing above her in ecstasy as she lies there limply. Tired. She’s so damn tired of this, of all of it. It brings no relief that she knows she’s leaving Grimmauld Place soon to go back to Hogwarts. Snape will be there… and a knot forms in her stomach in the realisation that he may realise what she has been up to.

“Shit…” A sharp jerk of Sirius’ hips brings her out of her thoughts. “I’m sorry Hermione. I couldn’t hold it…”

“Huh?” He’s staring at her expectantly and it takes her a moment to realise he’s talking about his orgasm. “Oh, it’s alright. I’m pretty tired anyway.”

She wishes he’d roll off of her so she could return to her rooms. She doesn’t care in the least that he’s finished before her, she feels too dead at the moment to believe that she can.

“Let me,” he whispers as he moves down her body.

She stiffens when she realizes his intent, his head poised between her open legs. Horrified she attempts to scramble away but his large hands are gripping her hips.

“No, you have to hold still.” His tone is light and teasing, but she feels no amusement.

“Stop. Honestly you don’t need to… really I’m fine.”

She can feel his hot breath on her and it makes her squirm in discomfort.

“Shh…” he mumbles. She feels a probing tongue swipe at her inners. His mouth is liquid heat and unyielding. The thought of him tasting the combination of their copulation disgusts and thrills her. To keep from pushing him away she uses her hands to cover her face.

An unfamiliar heat seeps through her body as he lavishes her with wet kisses.

“Noooo…” she sobs as her muscles spasm in release.

Angry tears spill down her cheeks as he lifts himself away from her.

“Hermione! Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?” The concern in his voice makes her feel nauseous.

“No. Never mind. I need to be alone,” she mutters as she tears herself away from him.

Returning quickly yet quietly to her room is difficult. A shuddering sob releases as she collapses on the single bed that is across from a sleeping Ginny. After hours of crying softly and damning herself, she slips into a restless sleep full of anxiety ridden dreams.

**************************

Back at Hogwarts, it isn’t long before her tactic of avoiding Snape founders. Now she knows that he knows. His hissing is vague but the meaning is obvious. He’s not the only one. She realises he only continues this… whatever it is between them… because she no longer wishes to be a part of it. The fact that he was also the first probably appeases him as well. He always had tasted of anger, but now he tastes of rage.

He’s fucking her so hard that the frame of his king size bed is knocking into the stone wall with a loud thwacking sound. She is scared to look him in the eye; his stare never leaves her face. She can tell he’s sneering down at her, amused that with each thrust her face contorts with the shock of the blow. She feels she deserves this. What ever was she thinking becoming a ‘martyr’ prostitute?

She grips the sheets tightly and focuses on the ceiling, waiting for the usual hiss that signifies the end. It comes and he pushes himself away. By accident she catches his eye and is startled by what she see’s there; more pain, more bitterness, and something akin to hatred. It’s her fault; all her fault. Instead of helping him she has only succeeded in destroying them both.

“Get out,” he snarls.

She rushes to pull her clothes back on and starts to head for the door when he snatches her wrist.

“What!?” She turns to look at him, tilting her chin up in what she hopes looks like defiance.

“Here!” he screams, while pulling down her collar to expose an area of usually covered flesh. His teeth sink into her brutally and she shrieks. “Here! Now when you spread your legs for dogs, they will at least know that you have been marked by me!”

With that he shoves her sobbing from his quarters.