Hermione groaned as she recovered from the experience. His taste lingered on her tongue, her throat felt raw, and the plug was uncomfortably large. She tried to imagine how it would feel to have him there, replacing the plug with his own flesh. She wondered if he would go slow, or if it would be fast. Would he use lots of lubrication, or would it be a painful experience? Her skin stung warmly from the spanking and she shifted again, unable to address her aroused sex. She sighed and set about mentally reciting what she could recall of  Hogwarts, a History. Inevitably, she started to drift off and was shocked awake by the bench. To her utter astonishment, in addition to the nipple and clit sensation, she also felt the plug inside of her pulse. Oh god, was it getting bigger? If it enlarged every time she fell asleep, at this rate it might split her apart before Snape came back. No, she reminded herself, she had the bell. She could always leave. But she didn’t want to. It was more than just a matter of pride or proving herself – she desperately meant what she’d said – she wanted Snape to take possession of her body. She turned to her memory of Latin, conjugating verbs and mentally translating some of her favourite stories as best she could. 