WARNING: This is a slash story, which means it contains male/male erotic content involving consenting adults. If you're not of legal age or are offended by such material, please go find something else to read.

Title: "Faster, Pussycat, Faster!"

Author: Demeter

Email: ladydemeter@hotmail.com

Warnings: Oh god. Stay away if you value your innocence. I think I burned a few hundred-brain cells trying to write this.

Pairing: Snape/Niffler (Oh, the humanity)

Rating: NC17 - can you expect anything else?

Disclaimer: If I did own Severus Snape (which I unfortunately don't), then the entire world would revolve around him. Dawn would be at his bidding. The sun would set when he ordered. Slytherins would come out on top at every Quidditch match. Gryffindors would suck. Sirius Black would be strung up by his thumbs. And dear Voldie would be living all alone in an abandoned warehouse, mourning about his inability to control the world.

Notes: Part of Snape Fuh-Q Fest. Scenario 79: Richard Gere: Dig, Niffler, Dig! Also, at the HP Lexicon, I noticed that the niffler was fairly small. So... here goes nothing.

Snape was in a foul mood.

He had lost his only watch in the Forbidden Forest when he'd had to come into the darkness to Apparate to the new Death Eater site. Voldemort had been happy-go-lucky that night, talking about grooving it with the music. He had insisted them all to come dressed in bellbottoms and brightly colored tie-dyed shirts while they danced rather nervously below a floating strobe light. He had been thoroughly disgusted, since anyone who knew him, knew that he preferred sixties rock.

"The Lord of Darkness indeed," he snorted as he pulled on the leash that was leading the extremely eager Niffler toward the area that he had Apparated from. Perusing the dense underbrush, he used his wand to move apart a few bushes to see where exactly his Death Eater signet ring had disappeared. Voldemort could be so particular about who was wearing it and who wasn't.

Running a pink tongue over his teeth, he realized with a sudden start that the niffler was now distractedly chewing on the local vegetation. Tugging at the golden chain encircling the niffler's neck, he found himself flat on his arse as he watched the niffler with stunned eyes. Then anger.

How dare the little bastard do that to him!

Rising, he brushed his robes off with an imperious gesture before resuming his excruciatingly detailed search of the forest grounds. Peering beneath some leafy flowers, he wrinkled his nose at seeing some small animals scurry away in fright at his scowling face.

Patting beneath some of the loose dirt, his fingers scrabbled at moss, dead and feasting insects, and his hand touched something warm and pulsing to the touch. Pulling it out with a small tug, he realized that it was an Ashwinder egg. Snape paused and considered taking it back before shaking his head. There was too much risk that it would break and spill all over his clothing.

And any competent Potions Master knew that a broken Ashwinder egg had unmentionable properties.

Dropping it back into the freshly overturned soil, Snape pushed over a rotting log gingerly with his foot. Not seeing any glint of silver, he sighed and gloomily contemplated asking Voldemort for another signet ring. Of course, he would have to suffer through several renditions of a badly off-key Voldemort singing "I'm Real" by some awful muggle called Jennifer Lopez. Voldemort didn't have to be so literal...

Snuffing, he stretched and decided that he was just 'too'. Too pissed off at Sirius Black for the fuck and leave affair he had been submitted to earlier. Too tired of Draco and Harry's little bondage sessions... such children they were to think they might have taught him anything he didn't already know. Too bored with his weekly domination and submission games with Albus. Too frustrated with his chase for Remus Lupin. The werewolf wouldn't even look at him yet, and he had exhausted his resources. Personally, he couldn't understand. If even Sirius Black had bowed to him, why not Remus Lupin, who he'd had a semi-relationship before Voldemort decided that it was time to dance through the halls of Hogwarts in pink tights.

He felt something warm nudge at his butt.

Snape turned around, startled, and stared straight into the soulful brown eyes of niffler. Frowning, he pushed it away before the snuffling nose went back to nuzzling his crotch. Gasping at the strange dance of lightening that climbed up his spine and took house at the base of his neck, he snarled and jumped backwards.

The niffler then did something Snape didn't know they were even capable of.

With a dexterous speed, the niffler aimed it's long, thick snout right between Snape's legs and managed to burrow straight through the various folds in his robes. The bristly hide came in contact with tender inner-thigh skin, and Snape yelped as his prick hardened almost immediately. Oh, this was sick, sick, sick. But he was getting off on it. He was really getting off on it.

Feebly looking around, he noticed the two-thirds eaten ashwinder egg. He then saw what the niffler had been eating earlier. Damn. Mix the egg and the faintly pink vegetation (so stupid! Pink! Of course!) together, and it would create a fairly strong aphrodisiac.

Damn his brain!

The niffler was still nuzzling quite happily at his crotch. Yanking it away, he pulled it forward to stare into a lust-addled gaze. Feeling his cock twitch at the sight of oversexed animal instincts, he paused. The niffler was in a state of arousal. From the looks of the little red protrusion sticking out, he could bet that it was painful... but how in the world would he have sex with an animal about the size of small cat?

Absently fondling the niffler, he involuntarily licked his lips as he watched the niffler rub itself against his work-roughened hands. Maybe... just maybe...

Within seconds, he was stripped from his robes. Naked, he lay them flat on the ground, and swept a private protection spell over the area. Nothing, be it beast or human, would be able to come near him during the duration of his... er.. coupling.

Lying flat on the soft robes, he let the niffler go and let it have its wicked way with him.

Groaning as he felt the rough hide brush against his sensitive skin, he realized hazily that the blue sky was blooming in the far, far distance. His mind sunk into a stupor of sexual bliss as the niffler examined his crotch more thoroughly. Oooh, his prick felt like it was engorging itself with more and more blood just at the image of what he looked like. Naked. On his robes. A rodent-like animal crawling all over his body.

And of course; his lovely, lovely prick, a deep, dull purplish red head, long, thick (if he thought so himself), and leaking precum like a leaky spout. Groaning when the niffler burrowed between his legs, he let out a small, choked gasp before turning on his side, a stray hand coming down to stroke roughly at his cock. What he wouldn't do for some lubricant...

Craning around the area, he spotted a (strategically placed there for all sorts of fun) aloe plant. Hesitant, he shrugged and then peeled the plant into pieces and lathered his hands. The cool sensation on his heated skin felt incredible...

Soon he was grunting as the niffler continued to chew on the skin around his arse. The snakes of stinging pain assaulting his brain bit tightly onto his nerves, and for a second, he thought he would come hard just from the exquisite pain.

He so needed someone else... preferably Draco with his vacuum-like mouth, or Albus and his diverse array of toys. Damn, what he wouldn't do for...

Snape sat up, ignoring the muffled outraged squeaks. Pulling the niffler from his lap, he examined the size. The wrinkled hide was lightly dusted with bristle-like hairs... a bit like the bumps on the magical vibrator Albus had...

With a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold, Snape stroked the tiny, pulsing penis. He saw the dark eyes cloud over with pleasure, and the niffler nuzzled against his skin. Licking his lips, he hesitated, before throwing his dignity into the air and yelling, "What the hell!?"

Standing up, he rummaged through one of his robe's pockets. Pulling a handy tube of flavored lubricant out, he muttered a charm that made the slippery fluid scented with apples and other interesting flavors. Running his tongue over his teeth, he held his breath and plunged a finger into his arsehole. Face contorting with mixed pleasure and pain, he added in a second and a third, the specially-made lubricant easily allowing his fingers to slide in and out. Finding his gland, he stroked it several times, shuddering in ecstasy as the reverberations swept through him.

Shakily, with another twist that sufficiently loosened his hole, he turned onto his stomach and carefully guided the niffler near his arsehole. Fingers trembling in anticipation, he pressed the squirming bundle of ridged skin and muscles, and then let go.

For several moments, all he felt was the niffler sniffing and snuffing at the hole, a small tongue protruding out to lick at the surrounding area. Snape had to admit, it felt damn good, and he wouldn't have minded for the niffler to just continue along that vein for a while. But he wanted more. Thick, heated, bloody more.

Slowly getting onto his knees, so his arse was pointing at the sky, he shook his butt a little in order to encourage the bugger to get into his hole.

Without warning, that was exactly what the niffler did.

Suddenly deciding that it wanted into that tasty, slippery haven that it had discovered, with the tenacity that comes with all small-mannered animals, it burrowed inch by inch into Snape's arsehole, causing a strangled moan to escape his throat. Snape felt full. Very, very full.

Panting, he arched his arse even higher, wanting leverage to chew on the robes scrunching up beneath him. The niffler was moving deeper into his hole, and for a moment, Snape thought the animal would simply bypass his gland, and then climb through his intestines.

But of course, he had forgotten, that with aphrodisiacs, animals become unusually attentive lovers.

With a small squeak, the niffler bumped it's snout against his prostate gland, and Snape nearly flew into the air at the sharp bolt of lightening arcing through his system. His moans echoed through the little bubble he had created, and for several salivating seconds, he wanted the whole forest to hear his orgasmic shrieks.

But the niffler had other plans. Plans that included turning itself around and around inside his arsehole, bumping against the sensitive skin, and screwing his gland into a frenzy of sexual bliss. Snape rubbed his face against the soft material of his robes, and blinked hazily at the world that was exploding into a rainbow of colors. The niffler continued to crawl inside the tight space, and Snape felt as if his innards would burst from the pressure.

It was exquisite. Unlike anything he had ever felt before. Even with his Death Eater orgies at the Malfoy mansion.

His arse started shaking, and Snape could feel a tightening sensation in his balls, slowly screwing up his brain and finally having him scrabble one slick hand and grasping his weeping cock, each rough stroke shooting off the end.

With all these different sensations, no man could last long.

I'm going to have to thank Hagrid for the loan later was Snape's last coherent thought before his entire body went into an orgasmic seizure. Flopping around on his robe, he humped his cloak with sharp stabs, and then the world disappeared in white as semen spurted out all over his nice, black robes.

Collapsing, he lay there panting, mind still very much lost in the small shudders running through his muscles. After several moments, Snape flexed his arse muscles in order to convince the little buggering rodent to come out. With several indignant squeaks, the niffler did, and beady black eyes stared at him reproachfully. The little red prick was still leaking small droplets of precum, and feeling a sense of gratitude and obligation, he grasped the tiny prick between his fore and middle fingers.

Rubbing the protrusion, he was gratified and strangely aroused to see the niffler quiver and then shoot a string of shiny, sticky white fluid onto the palm of his hand. Setting the exhausted niffler onto the ground, he examined the fluid with a critical and scientific eye. Sticking out his tongue, he touched it to the fluid hesitantly, and was surprised to find that it tasted rather sweet.

With a tinge of saltiness. Of dirt.

He licked his lips.

It tasted rather good actually.

Taking his sweet time to put his robes over his sensitive skin, his mind whirled furiously. Glancing at the niffler, a feral smile suddenly crossed his face.

Scooping the snuffling niffler into his hands, he cradled the rodent and murmured, "You, my dear, are going to live in my chambers from now on. I hope you learn not to wreck things."

With that, he swept back towards the castle, deciding that he didn't really need that signet ring anyways. He would just let Potter find a way of destroyed Voldemort before the Lord found out that Snape had lost it in the first place.

~*~ FINIS ~*~

I swear, I have never felt so thoroughly debauched after writing a fic. *grins* At least I have now joined the population of slasher girls who have lost their innocence in all but the most technical of senses. ^___^