Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc.. I own nothing, make no money from anything, and am writing this purely for personal enjoyment.

Warnings: HP/SS slash, OOCness, plot-light story, d/s, lots of pre-story character death. If you don't like the dark stuff, don't read this.

A slightly more explicit version of this chapter is available on my live-journal.

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"You performed… adequately this evening."

Harry suppressed a surge of pride. Maybe he would win this one after all.

"Now, tell me about your previous sexual experience."

And then again, maybe not.

Harry should have seen this conversation coming, but he hadn't. His 'previous sexual experience' was something he had spent a great deal of time not talking about. He hesitated just a moment, but it was long enough to irritate Snape.

"Back on your knees. Maybe that will remind you to answer me in good time!"

Snape was standing so close to him that Harry was forced to slither into position. He remembered just in time to stay upright, leaving his nose only a few inches from Snape's groin. It had the unexpected advantage of concealing most of his face.

"Perhaps some simpler questions will be easier on your limited intellect. Have you ever had anal sex?"

"No."

"No, what?"

"No, Master."

"Once again, with a full sentence."

"No, Master, I have never had..." Harry gulped.

Snape grabbed his hair and pulled his head back to look into his eyes. "Are you planning on making me wait, pet?"

"I have never had anal sex."

"Oral sex?"

"No, Master."

"But you have at least exchanged favours with a dorm mate in the shower?"

"No, Master."

"Are you trying to tell me that your sexual experience has been entirely limited to the female gender?"

"No, Master. I mean, yes, Master. I mean..."

"You are a virgin," said Snape incredulous comprehension.

"Yes, Master." With the war, and the training, and the way his every action had been commented on by the press, it had just never seemed the appropriate time.

"Please tell me you've at least taken yourself in hand."

Harry took a moment to figure out what Snape meant by that.

"Yes, Master," he mumbled.

"Anything else? Anything at all?"

"I've... I've played soggy biscuit with the quidditch team. Once."

"Heaven's help us, we have more training ahead of us than I could possibly have imagined."

Snape continued speaking, but it was lost to Harry. His hearing was filled with static, and his vision tunnelled in on him. The wave retreated, and he became aware of Snape staring at him calculatingly.

"Well, it can wait for tomorrow. I could do with an early night. Make use of the bathroom and wait for me on the bed."

Harry groped his way through his ablutions, steadying himself against the wall. He barely woke up when Snape pulled his head up to attach a collar. The next morning, he reached up to stretch and was abruptly stopped. His arms were loosely chained through his collar. They had some play, but not sufficient to stretch or scratch. Further investigation revealed that one ankle was cuffed to the bottom of the bed. He turned over experimentally, and stilled at the sight of Snape.

A naked Snape. A naked and erect Snape that was efficiently stroking himself to completion. Harry watched in horrified fascination. Snape made no eye-contact, or gave any suggestion that he was aware of Harry. He calmly finished and cast cleaning spells on himself. He then disappeared into the bathroom, still without a word or a glance. Harry lay stunned while the shower switched itself on and later off. Finally Snape returned and removed the restraints from Harry.

"Master?"

"What is it, pet?"

"Why'd you tie me up? Do you think I'll break my word?"

"If I thought that, you'd be dead. It pleases me to do so – that's all you need to know. Now go clean yourself up."

Harry scurried into the bathroom, doing his best to conceal his own need. The temperature settings were warded from him, and set to tepid. Harry cursed Snape's pettiness. What possible purpose could there be in keeping Harry from a hot shower? Well, there were still other advantages to showers. Harry reached down, but was instantly brought to his knees in pain. When his eyes stopped tearing, he found that his palm had turned bright red. He washed it over and over until he admitted it was not going to return to normal. At Snape's impatient yell, he finished washing hurriedly, and limped back into the bedroom.

"So you tried to masturbate."

Harry hesitated.

"That particular spell is quite sensitive to intent, pet. Believe me, you do not want to try to lie to me."

Harry hurriedly discard the 'I was just cleaning' excuse.

"Yes, Master. Forgive me, Master I did not realise it was prohibited."

"I suppose I should stop expecting you to have half a brain. We'll leave that one as a warning, then. Unless you are told otherwise, you may not touch yourself sexually without explicit instruction, is that understood?"

"Yes, Master."

His hand returned to its normal colour.

"Which brings me to the first part of our training you will be doing while I am busy elsewhere."

Snape lifted down two books, and then opened up a cabinet to reveal a stone statue. It stood about three foot, and was half-goat, half-man. It was unclothed and unadorned except for a blue crystal hung round its neck.

"What is that?"

"Is your education so sadly lacking? It is a Satyr Stone."

Harry must have looked as blank as he felt, because Snape continued with an exasperated sigh.

"It's a semi-sentient object designed to collect sexual well-being. The supplicant services it orally until it ejaculates, and it releases that post-orgasmic bliss into the crystal. The crystal can then be tapped by another wizard. This crystal provides about 24 hours of well-being, and takes about eight hours to fill up. If the supplicant displeases the Satyr Stone in any way before the crystal is fully filled, the crystal drains completely, and the supplicant must start again."

Harry gulped. No prizes as to who the supplicant was going to be in this little exercise.

"It is one of the more ostentatious symbols of power, but it is also a perfect tool for teaching. It took some... connections, but this satyr body has been reworked to match my dimensions and preferences. When, and only when, you can present me with a filled crystal, then I will consider allowing you access to me."

Harry couldn't hold Snape's gaze.

"Stay in the master suite. A house-elf will be here with breakfast shortly, and I should be back by lunch. I expect you to have made good progress with both assignments."

Both? Oh, the books.

"Understood?"

"Yes, sir, I mean, yes, Master."

Snape glared at him again, but left without remarking on his slip. Harry edged towards the table. At least the books couldn't be too intimidating, could they? Harry picked them up. On Apprenticeships – a Complete Guide to the Customs and Traditions by Octavius Vetus and The Prince by Nicolò Machiavelli. On the other hand, he was generally better at practical tasks.

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