She is disciplined by Snape

Snape swept into his office, the heavy door swinging shut behind Ginny with a resonant thud that sealed her fate. He didn't even look at her, instead going to his desk and meticulously removing his gloves, finger by finger. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire in the grate and Ginny's frantic, hitching sobs.

"So," he began, his voice a low, venomous hiss that cut through her crying. "Another Weasley unable to control their base impulses. First your brothers with their explosive pranks, and now you... parading through the castle like a creature from Knockturn Alley." He finally turned, his black eyes raking over her naked form with a look of profound, clinical disgust. "Cover yourself. You're an eyesore."

Ginny frantically tried to cover her breasts and the fiery patch of hair between her legs with her hands, but it was useless. Her plump, pale breasts with their pink, tightened nipples were barely concealed by her forearms, and the curve of her bottom was fully exposed.

"Did you think this was amusing?" Snape continued, circling her slowly like a vulture. "Did you think Potter would find your... display... arousing? All you've done is prove what I've always suspected: Weasleys are little better than goblins, all noise and no substance, with a shocking lack of propriety."

He stopped in front of her. "Hands at your sides. Now."

Trembling, Ginny obeyed, dropping her arms. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear his gaze. Her body was slim and athletic from Quidditch, with toned legs and a flat stomach, but now it just felt frail and exposed. Her full, pert breasts spilled out, the nipples hard from the cold and her fear. Below, her neatly trimmed pubic hair did little to hide the plump lips of her sex, which were clenched tight in a futile attempt at modesty.

"Look at me," Snape commanded.

She **** her eyes open. He was holding a long, thin birch rod, its end split into several flexible switches.

"Your father is a fool. Your mother is a sentimental fool. And it seems they have raised a daughter who is an exhibitionist fool. Since you seem so determined to show everyone your body, we will ensure it's a lesson you do not forget. Bend over the desk."

"Professor, please..." she begged.

"Bend. Over. The. Desk." His voice left no room for argument.

Shaking violently, Ginny leaned over the cold, polished surface of his desk. The wood was icy against her bare stomach and breasts. Her nipples, pressed flat against the wood, ached with the cold. This position thrust her bare bottom upwards, presenting it to him. The pale, round globes of her arse were tensed with dread, the cleft between them hiding her most private place.

"Legs apart," he ordered. "Wider.... wider!"

She shuffled her feet apart, feeling a draft of cold air on her exposed anus and the sensitive folds of her pussy. She felt utterly, horribly ****.

"Eighteen strokes," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "One for each year of your profound ignorance. You will count them. If you miss one, we will start again. If you cry out, we will start again. Do you understand?"

She could only manage a choked whimper in response.

The first stroke landed with a sharp, stinging crack across the center of her buttocks. A thin, red line instantly appeared. Ginny gasped, her hands flying back to cover the smarting skin.

"One!" she sobbed out, remembering the rule.

"I did not say you could move," Snape said menacingly. "Put your hands flat on the desk in front of you. Do not move them again."

The second stroke was lower, right across the tender crease where her thighs met her bottom. The pain was sharp and immediate. "Two!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.

He continued with methodical cruelty. The third stroke crossed the first two, making a perfect, angry red 'X' on her arse. The fourth and fifth landed on her left cheek, then her right, turning the pale skin a fiery crimson. With each blow, her body jerked, her small breasts rubbing painfully against the hard wood of the desk. She could feel her pussy growing wet with humiliation and fear, a slick, shameful betrayal that she prayed he couldn't see.

By the tenth stroke, her entire backside was a grid of red, angry welts. She was a mess of snot and tears, her body trembling uncontrollably. Snape showed no sign of stopping, his face a mask of cold fury. He laid the next four strokes diagonally, each one crossing multiple previous welts, sending new waves of agony through her.

"Fifteen!" she screamed, her voice raw.

The last three strokes were the worst. He aimed them directly onto the tender skin of her upper thighs, where the welts would be impossible to hide. "Sixteen... seventeen... eighteen!" she sobbed, collapsing onto the desk, her body convulsing with pain.

"Stand up," he commanded.

She slowly, painfully, straightened up. The movement pulled at her sore skin, and she winced. Her face was blotchy and swollen from crying. Snape looked at her, at her tear-streaked face, her red, welted arse, and her plump naked breasts.

"Your punishment is over, your detension is not." he said. He pointed his wand at a large, crystal jar filled with a shimmering, pearlescent salve. "That is a healing salve. It will soothe the welts, even heal them completely. But you will have to apply it to yourself. All over."

He scooped a generous dollop of the sweet-smelling paste onto a wooden spatula and handed it to her. "Begin with your face."

Ginny took the spatula, her hand shaking so badly she nearly dropped it. She smeared the cool, slick salve on her cheeks. It was instantly soothing. She then moved to her neck, her shoulders, her arms. She had to coat her entire body. With a sob of resignation, she smeared the salve over her full, aching breasts. The cool cream was a balm to her abused skin, but as it absorbed, a strange tingling sensation began to spread. Her nipples, which had been flattened and sore, began to tighten and peak, not from cold, but from a strange, warm, tingling arousal.

"Continue," Snape ordered, watching her with rapt, cruel attention.

She coated her stomach, her back, her buttocks, wincing as it touched the welts. The tingling there was more intense, a deep, thrumming warmth that seemed to sink into her muscles, healing the pain but replacing it with a maddening, sensual itch. Then, she had to bend over again to apply it to her legs and her sore, burning lower buttocks. The salve on her welts was pure **** and pleasure combined, the throbbing heat sinking deep, making her clench involuntarily.

Finally, there was only one place left. She looked at him, pleading with her eyes.

"All of you, Weasley," he snarled, moving closer to her, kneeling in front of her fiery red mound. "Unless you would prefer I apply it for you." He smirked, waiting for her to continue so close to him.

Hating herself, hating him, Ginny reached down and smeared the wonderful, horrible salve between her legs. It was ecstasy. The cool cream on her hot, swollen flesh was a relief so intense it was almost painful. But then the tingling started, a deep, insistent thrumming that seemed to radiate from her clit and spread through her entire pelvis. The plump lips of her pussy swelled and darkened, not from irritation, but from a sudden, shocking rush of blood. A soft gasp escaped her lips as her hips rocked forward involuntarily. She stood there, naked, covered in the shimmering salve, her body healing but also betraying her, humming with a sensual energy she couldn't control.

"Much better," Snape said, a flicker of something like satisfaction in his eyes. "Now you look as shameful as you feel. You will stand there and reflect on your family's disgrace until the salve has fully absorbed."

But Ginny couldn't stand it. The tingling was becoming unbearable, a deep, throbbing need that was building in her core. She squirmed, rubbing her thighs together, trying to find some relief. "Please, Professor," she begged, her voice thick with a pleasure she didn't want. "Please... make it stop."

Snape's lip curled into a cruel smile. "Or what?"

Ginny brought a hand to her crotch, the gel teasing her sensitive folds with an insatiable tingling. She ground her thighs together, moisture dripping down her legs.

"Or... or... i will..." Ginny paused, realizing she needed to outwit snape. If she complained that she was being teased to the point that she was about to cum, he might let it happen, let her orgasm in front of him while he laughed. He needed to think she liked it. "Or... I'll enjoy this too much... and I'll want to come back for more! Oh this feels so ...good!!" She said, blushing at the act. In an effort to sell it, she started rubbing at her mound with intention.

Snape wrinkled his nose at the thought. This was supposed to be dicipline, not pleasurable for her. "As you wish. Nothing cures a bitch in heat like ice water." He stood up and raised his wand. "*Aguamenti!*"

A jet of ice-cold water blasted from his wand, hitting Ginny square in the chest. She screamed as the freezing water cascaded over her body, dousing the tingling salve and shocking her system. The water was relentless, drenching her from head to toe, washing away the healing cream and leaving her skin raw and chilled. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed in a puddle on the floor, a wet, shivering mess.

Snape looked down at her, his expression one of utter contempt. He pointed his wand at her, and a flimsy, translucent blacl robe, identical to the one Hermione had worn, materialized in the air and draped itself over her shivering body. It clung to her wet skin, offering no modesty, only highlighting her form.

"Get up," he commanded. "Your detention is not over. Let's see if dentention with Mr Filch won't teach you a well needed lesson."

He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet, dragging her out of his office and up the stairs.