Chapter Text
Lina looked up at the words written in plain phonetics across a stark white background on the sign hanging above the stone-paved street, a place with a cold, almost unsettling darkness about it. “Obscura”
Her warm breath slipped through her pink lips, drifting into the cold air as a thin plume of white. After taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage and stepped inside through the path beneath the sign. When the stone path came to an end, she found herself standing before a large double door made of oak. She gave two raps with the ring knocker, a heavy thing fully three times larger than the door seemed to warrant.
The great door creaked open with a sound as imposing as its size, revealing a burly man with a grin that promised very little in the way of trust.
“What’s up, pretty?” he said, his smirk widening. Doing her best to mask her disgust, Lina managed to slip past him and step inside.
For all its gloom, the place looked as though some grand revelry was always on the verge of breaking loose. Along the left side of the long corridor stood perhaps twenty closed doors, while on the right there was a wide open space furnished with only a few lonely armchairs. At the end of the corridor, a staircase led upwards.
As she glanced around, she noticed a small area resembling a reception desk, where a woman somewhat past middle age sat waiting.
“May I help, sweetie?” the woman asked, but neither her voice nor her gaze matched the sweetness of her words—on the contrary, they were unsettling.
With a growing sense that something was not quite right, Lina approached her.
“I’d like a room,” she said, trying to appear confident in spite of her unease.
The short, red-haired woman looked the pale, slender yet curvy young girl up and down over the rim of her crescent-shaped glasses. Then she met Lina’s gaze and said,
“Show me the colour of your money first, girlie.”
Even getting fucked costs money these days… Lina thought to herself.
“Soo…?” the woman prompted after a moment, clearly expecting an answer.
Lina shifted uneasily where she stood. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched couples slipping into the rooms on the left—some laughing, others already kissing. She lowered her gaze, fiddling with her fingers, when a deep baritone voice rose from behind her.
She flinched slightly but didn’t lift her head, was only listening..
“Is there a problem, Borty?” he asked as one eyebrow arching on his otherwise expressionless face.
Mrs Borty’s expression grew even more tired. With an exaggerated sigh, she said, “It seems the young lady doesn’t have enough money for an unforgettable sex.”
Lina’s cheeks flushed instantly. She lifted her head in shock, staring at the woman.
“I-I haven’t said that!” she managed to stammer.
But the woman cut her off, her voice rising sharply.
“Do you have any idea how many girls like you I deal with? If you had money, you wouldn’t be standing here like this silly gal.. you’d be in one of those rooms already, screaming.”
Lina wished she could disappear.. Literally disappear.
The deep-voiced man spoke again,
“Enough. That… will be enough, Mrs Borty.”
Without even turning to look at the owner of the voice, Lina moved away—quickly, though trying not to appear as if she were fleeing—heading down the long corridor. She could hear footsteps following behind her at the same pace, yet she refused to stop.
Not until she felt a firm—though not painful—grip around her wrist. She froze in place, as if her feet were nailed to the floor.
When she turned around, she found herself staring into dark brown eyes belonging to a pale-faced man whose raven-black hair fell over his shoulders. A sweeping cloak trailed behind him, contrasting with his black robes.
The man briefly glanced around, more out of habit than curiosity. Then his gaze settled on her dark hazel eyes—anxious, yet not afraid. One eyebrow lifted slightly.
“If you have no money,” he said in a low, steady voice, “Why come to a place like this at all?… a bdsm club.”
Lina could have called that voice sexy. Even if he did nothing but speak, it carried enough weight to stir something in most women.
His question was not truly meant to be answered. After briefly breaking eye contact to look her up and down, he returned his gaze to her face.
“I must say,” he continued with a dark trace of amusement, “I am curious what kind of reasoning led you to believe you could get a room here for free… and even find someone willing to fuck you.”
“However-”
Before he could finish, Lina hurriedly found her voice for the first time.
“I only wanted to be fucked…”
That answer seemed to catch his interest.
He suppressed what might have been a chuckle, though one corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Only wanted to be.. fucked?” he repeated softly, almost like a whisper.
Lina’s chest rose and fell quickly as she struggled to steady herself, her cheeks burning.
She answered, “By a real man.”
That response seemed to amuse him even more.
His right hand came up and settled on her bare shoulder, the touch feather-light. Encouraged when she didn’t flinch, his fingers moved slowly upward—to her neck, then her cheek.
His thumb brushed lightly against her skin before his hand shifted again. He hooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted it, forcing her to meet his gaze.
Even though Lina hadn’t flinched at the initial touch, the slow movement of his hand made goosebumps rise across her skin. Yet she neither resisted nor pulled away.
She seemed to be waiting.
“By a real man.” he repeated quietly, almost indulgently.
Then he stepped closer, closing the distance between them completely. The growing pressure of erection pressed against her after he pulled her slightly closer by the waist, grinding gently against her stomach.
“It would be a shame,” he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself, “if someone other than me were the one to fuck someone like you.”
The sudden sensation between her legs intensified. Lina pressed her thighs together instinctively, a soft, feminine moan slipping from her lips.
After one more look into those sharp dark-brown eyes, she surrendered to instinct. Rather than hesitating, she pressed her warm lips against the man’s—cold as a dungeon.
Suddenly she found herself pinned against the wall, her left leg lifted as though her skirt itself had raised it. Thick fingers moved with practiced ease, sliding her thong aside. As he tasted her wetness, the sound of a zipper followed and without hesitation he pushed the tense erection toward warmth.
A deep groan escaped the man’s lips.
With a harsh, relentless rhythm building, Lina wrapped her right arm around the long-haired man’s neck and pulled herself closer, trying to match his pace. At the same time, curiosity slipped through her breathless moans.
“Wha-what’s your name?” The question pulled his focus away for a moment.
“Why do you need it?” he replied hoarsely, suspicion colouring his tone.
Lina, with parted reddened lips and eyes full of pleasure, answered,
“So I can scream it when I come.”.
Apparently satisfied with that answer, he looked directly into her eyes.
“Severus,” he said, his breathing uneven as he tried to steady it.
Then he drove into her harder before adding,
“But you can call me Master.”
A pleased moan escaped the girl as she rolled the word softly between her lips.
“Master…”
Just before she reached her climax, another question came.. but this time not from Lina.
“How old are you, little one?”
“Nineteen… Master,” she added after a moment.
With a powerful release, she came exactly as promised—crying out his name.
As Lina struggled to remain standing on trembling legs, Severus calmly pulled his zipper back up.
He gave her one last slow look, the faintest hint of a smile touching the corner of his lips. Then he turned and began walking away.
She must have regained a little of her senses by then, because she called after him timidly.
“Hey…! Where are you going like that?”
Without any need to raise his voice, Severus kept walking as he answered,
“I suppose the free trial has ended, Miss.”
“Actually… he behaved rather well, even beyond his usual standards.”
The voice was astonishingly calm.
Lina searched through every possible owner of that rich, smooth voice within the span of three seconds, yet found no match in her mind. Adjusting the fallen strap on her shoulder, she quickly turned toward the direction the voice had come from.
She did not know him personally, though he fit certain descriptions she had been hearing ever since arriving in England.
Long, impeccably kept platinum-blond hair. Blue eyes sharp enough to pierce through walls.. Tall height, broad-shouldered, with strikingly aristocratic features.
The wealthiest pure-blood in the wizarding world.
But what was he doing in a place like this?
The thought made her immediately question herself as well.
After blinking rapidly, she asked with curious politeness,
“Oh—sorry… come again, please, sir?”