Would he tie her to his bed and drip hot candle wax across her torso? Would he take out a quill and write "Property of Severus Snape" across her naked flesh and insist she leave it on, hidden beneath her clothing, as she went to work? Would he show up at her office and instruct her to suck him off quickly before anyone saw? Would he ejaculate into her throat and tell her to swallow before leaving as quickly as he came, her lips puffy and her wet folds untouched? Would he instruct her to remove her panties and take them with him, leaving her to feel the rough fabric of her clothes against her intimate flesh? Would he gag her with them the next day as he took her across her own desk, ejaculating across her buttocks and commanding her to wear his seed for the rest of the day? She gasped as her fantasies combined with her movements brought her to a sudden orgasm. She let the spasms wear off and then stood shakily to go take a shower. She hadn’t been able to orgasm that powerfully from just her hands in... well, ever. The only times she came at all were from masturbation, but generally with a plethora of toys and a not-insignificant amount of kinky imagination. The mental image of a dominating Severus Snape had been so convincing, so arousing, that all she’d needed apart from the idea was her own hands. If the suggestion was that heavy, she shuddered to imagine the reality. She shook her head and stepped into the water to rinse off before getting ready for bed.