Transcript of Perverse Idyll's "When the Rose and the Fire Are One" outtake
PI and I decided to take turns. She did the outtake for my story and I did this one for hers.
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His eyes widened when a delicate serpent just above his left thumb, with one quick strike sank its fangs into Snape’s throat. As he stared, more of the animated runes followed suit, biting in an apparently random manner before gliding onward in their preordained tracks. A rush of gooseflesh swept over him. How must that feel?
On a sudden whim, he rested his lips against Snape’s throat and whispered in Parseltongue. "Fuck him."
One of the largest snakes stopped mid-bite, raised up and flicked its tongue at Harry. "What?"
"Fuck him," Harry repeated.
The snake's eyes widened and then it slid down to the bottom of the collar. After a moment's pause, the others abandoned Snape's throat and followed the first snake down Snape's chest. Circling, biting, tongue-flicking his lusciously red, tight nipples.
"Potter," Snape groaned, clutching the arms of his chair and arching into the non-existent touch. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all," Harry breathed. Unable to take his eyes off what was happening, he muttered a spell that removed their clothing. One hand fisted his prick. The other traced the snakes' path on his own body.
Abandoning the nipples, the snakes wound through the scars, welts, scratches, sparse black hairs. With each bite, each flick of a tongue against sensitive skin, Snape's hips bucked.
Finally they reached Snape's prick. They swarmed up and down the hard, purple length, beneath and around the crumpled skin of his bollocks, and further and further until some were sliding in and out of his hole. Flicking and biting. Moving faster and faster. Taking Snape and the avidly watching Harry closer and closer.
And then the lead snake poised at the top of Snape's prick, tasted the air with its tongue, dove into the slit.
It was too much. Harry screamed. Body arching, jerking. His milky spurts mingled with Snape's.
As they both lay back, gasping, the snake emerged from Snape's prick and led the others, weaving drunkenly, back up to Snape’s neck, where they slithered into position and settled down for a snooze.