It seems we have missed the annual Ginny Kill Offs...so, in it's place I've started DLP's First Annual Snape Kill Offs!

RULES:
1.) Snape dies.
2.) Use proper grammar and spelling to the best of your abilities.

...Begin!



Note: This was started with proper permission from Dark_Syaoran

 

A Wooly Punishment

:::


Snape looked at the door of the Room of Requirement in glee.

After almost three months of searching, he had finally found where Potter went at night. He had been aching to punish the boy for something. It was his fault Malfoy had disappeared, but no one would believe him. With the blonde pureblood gone, his rectum itched for some meat.

His various potions tubes did not do him any good either – without a flared base, they kept getting stuck in his bowels.

With no hope, he had turned to the only thing that seemed to make him happy these days – hurting Potter.

“Repulsum!” he intoned. The spell was normally used to help push things up tight passages, but its pushing force seemed to work well nonetheless.

A strong mist seemed to blow out and at him, and before he knew it, he was knocked off his feet and carried inside.

He fought the invisible foe, but was dumped on the ground moments later. Getting up blindly, he felt another force smack him back down to the ground. The mist clearing, he saw an odd looking throne in front of him. On it sat Potter.

“Bahahahahhahah!” he said coldly.

Snape looked at him confused before launching into a tirade. “What are you saying, you stupid boy? Has the loss of your parents finally rendered you insane?” He cackled for the effect.

Potter didn’t respond, and repeated the sound once more. His eyes were looking past him. Biting back an additional insult, Snape flipped his greasy hair over his shoulder (which rewarded him with a wet sounding slap) and looked behind him.

A whole army of sheep looked back at him. The nearest one bit his ear.

“Arrrrghhhhh!” He screamed, punching wildly at the fluffy beast.

“Snape! You have been charged on multiple counts of pedophilia, ugliness, and failure to commit to your own personal hygiene. In addition, you have been witnessed to beat sheep on multiple occasions. For this, you have been sentenced to death.”

Snape paled, forgetting entirely about the sheep gnawing at his earlobe. “What? You will do no such thing!”

Potter waved his wand and muttered something in sheepish. The sheep looked up suddenly and started crowding around him, all making obscene noises while head butting him.

“Please! Stop!” Snape suddenly screamed, as a sheep behind him started tearing out his hair. His wand had long been munched on. “Don’t kill me! Aren’t there any other choices?”

Potter paused, as did the sheep. Snape noticed for the first time the boy was wearing nothing but wool over his body.

“I give you a choice then. Oompa or death!”

Snape arched an eyebrow, an odd occurrence as he was currently surrounded my murderous looking sheep.

“Oompa?”

Potter merely smiled and bent over. With a short whistle, a small lamb walked over and tore his wooly loincloth off. Snape watched in horror as the lamb procured a massive cock from seemingly nowhere and plunged it in his rear end, bleating wildly as it rammed away.

Potter merely moaned, and before long, both had orgasmed, lying in a small, fluffy but sticky heap.

Snape had attempted to flee at the horrible scene, but was held in place by the other massive sheep. He preferred high quality stud like young boys, not well endowed wooly monsters. The very thought of the creature entering his precious no-woman’s-land was unbearable. He was gay and proud, but in no way into bestiality.

“Death!” he intoned quietly, sneering at Potter. He wasn’t afraid of the boy.

Potter grinned, as if expecting the answer. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Grabbing a bone cane with a rattling human skull on top, he jumped wildly and danced for a bit before screaming “DEATH….by OOMPA!”

Snape turned around in horror to see the scores of sheep unleash their massive cocks, bleating eagerly. The massive one behind him plunged in without warning, tearing his sphincter and bloodying his asshole.

Pain shot through him as the sheep pounded away without Mrs. Inqy’s Quality Cooling Lube, his anal lubrication of choice. (Dumbledore gave a bottle to him every Christmas and demonstrated its uses to him every New Years.)

With a massive spurt inside of him, the sheep dismounted, leaving Snape a crying mess. His bowels released without a sphincter, the brownish mush combining with the thick, ropy sheep semen.

Another sheep quickly mounted him, its cock plunging inside him deeper than ever before. It ripped at his hair, tearing at his skin.

Hours later, only half of the sheep had had their fun. Snape was nearly comatose, his face all bloody, his ears totally gone and his hair mistaken for tasty grass.

Potter dragged him up and slapped him a little. “Don’t die on me yet, Snape – my sheep are still hungry!” He waved his wand, and Snape realized that his cock was now exposed. Floating him in the air facing down, Potter gestured over to the other sheep. These sheep had horns…

His body spasmed as the horns invaded his ass, his balls speared and his abdomen punctured.

Despite all this, Snape managed to gasp in pleasure when small tongue surrounded his member.

Potter chuckled. “Don’t worry Snape, he’s only tasting to see if it’s worth eating.”

Snape screamed moments later.

:::

Fin

This was inspired by a joke I heard a while back...

 

Snape walks into a bar. Ouch.

 

Allright.... What can I say, thats pretty messed up. It's very different I'll give you that

 

I think Amerison has just taken the last of my innocence, and my sanity. Good on yer mate! You finally did what Vash has been doing with BTI for all these months.

Aekiel

 

Brilliant, i love the woolliness of the death, however i would have him die a little more like this....

Snape added a sprinkling of moon sap to the connection little knowing that harry had cum in it earlier, as the third dropped in the potion started to bubble and froth, not what it was supposed to do.

Snape had a look at the recipe and frowned, this was not supposed to be happening, all of a sudden a blinding flash of light and he was sent exactly one thousand years into the past, knocking him out in the process.

Upon waking up Snape started to scream and shout upon where a short plump woman entered the room. Seeing he was awake the woman walked over and introduced herself as Rowena Ravenclaw.

"fuck off, Ravenclaw lived thousands of years ago you stupid bint" Snape said smugly only to anger the small woman to which she raised her wand and with a silent spell tossed him out the window to the floor below.

"some bastards just dont know manners, especially from the future" she finished while whistling a merry tune walking out of the hospital ward.

 

Harry stalked through the dungeon corridors quietly seeking his target. Some time ago, he decided he would finally act. Today was the first he had a chance to finally teach the greasy bastard a lesson. Dumbledore had finally left the castle.

No one knew where he was, or what he was planning. And best of all, Pureblood politics had ensure no one would ever know he had done it.

With the way current monitoring charms work, the way Purebloods like them to, you couldnt pinpoint a wizard or spell. The ministry only knew muggleborns cast spells because no other magic residents lived in those areas.

Slowly, Harry entered the showers he knew Snape to use. The greasy haired professor was just exiting, a towel in his hands. He repressed the urge to vomit at the sight of the nude professor.

Snape was tall and thin, no muscle to speak of. His arms were not really bony, but held no fat, same as his bird's chest and legs. Even wet and freshly washed, his hair retained the greasy look. Harry assumed him to be smaller than average in size, as even Ron was had more impressive equipment. Not that he had looked, mind.

Raising his wand, he intoned swiftly and quietly, "Isionmera!" A grey flame sprang from his wand licking at the potion master. His ass hair was the first to ignite, spreading up his back, around to his groin.

"Kekeke!" Harry laughed, slinking from the shadow into Snape's view. "Kekeke, Lovely evening, Snape. Isn't it?

"Arrgg!" Snape yelled, flames consuming his body.


"But you know," Harry began. "You're voice irritates me. Sectumsempra!" Harry's aim was slightly off however. Instead of slicing though his throat as he intended, it was several inches higher. Leaving his lower jaw unharmed, the blade of invisible magic slid cleanly through the majority of Snape's skull.

"Hnn, Should work on that." He mused as he went to find a bit of play for the night.

 

First time attempt at one-shot writing, so happy criticising!


Feeling rather euphoric after what he considers an excellent OWL Potions exam, Harry decided that a little celebration was in hand, and what better to emulate good old daddy and cap off with a bit of Snape torture? A quick stunner to bucktooth’s head leaves a soon-to-be catatonic Granger taking a faceplant in Hagrid’s garden, and Weasel? He’s already at the Great Hall waiting for food.

Invisibility cloak overhead, map in hand Harry heads towards Snape’s office where Snape’s little ink dot currently appears. ‘Must be grading exam potions or something. Wonder why he teaches the subject anyway, since he makes it Gryffindorishly clear he hates the students and that must affect his passion for Potions’

“Silencio, alohomora” Snape’s office door inches open without a sound, but rather disturbing sounds reach Harry’s ear as he peeks round the doorway.

‘Holy fuck…that’s why Snape likes Potions.’ Bent over the desk was Snape, trousers down and moving a test tube in and out of his hairy arse at a furious rate. One quick stunner and playtime begins for Harry. “At least he was kind enough to spare me the horror of removing his pants for him.”

“Now now, lets see what more kinky items Snape plays with.” Walking around the desk, Harry whips open the desk drawers one by one. “Hmm, wonder why Snape has meat hooks in his drawer?” Soon a small pile consisting of a knife, meat hooks, two first-year exam potions, a small pump-like thing for siphoning off potions and a green coloured Pepper-up potion labelled “Colin Creevey”. That ought to provide some entertainment.

A quick body bind, silencer and an enervate results in a rather apopletic Snape trying to deliver his most extreme level Potter abuse oration. Harry would have left him unconscious for simplicity’s sake, but where’s the amusement if their facial expressions don’t change?

He jumps straight into it, knowing that he’s got but a short time to play surgeon. Grabbing the knife and Snape’s right arm, Harry cuts along the muscle fibres and fillets part of it in a way until he gets his hands around a bundle of muscle fibres. With a forceful yank, he rips the bundle clear off the bone and tears until half of Snape’s forearm remains attached by the wrist ligaments. Conjuring up a hand-crank drill, he gets to work on the exposed bone, bone chips and the blood-mixed bone powder flying everywhere as Harry cranks away with gusto. All the while, Snape’s face muscles are tense as scared virgin’s sphincter, contorted in agony while his spellbound head makes small thrashing motions.

Soon a large jagged hole is made in the arm and Harry picks up the potion pump and starts sucking the marrow out from Snape’s arm. “Just think about how many little Muggle children you can save with this donation Snape! You should be happy.” Harry chuckles as he lays aside the full pump. Picking up the first-year potions, Harry carefully pours the liquid into the marrow channel and quickly plugs a cork into the hole. Voila! Instant dying potions producer!

Casting a quick time spell, Harry realises that dinner is soon approaching and he would be missed. “Sorry Snape, can’t stay and show some true artistry here, but I’ll give you one last example of my genius!” Grabbing the bloody knife, he severs Snape’s Achilles tendons, anchors them firmly onto the meat hooks and levitates the hooks up to the roof. A blood-dripping Snape piñata now decorates the Potion master’s office, and as Harry turns to leave, the empty test tube drops from Snape’s arsecrack.

:”That reminds me, Creevey is yet to send his love.” Harry swiftly levitates the botched Pepper-up potion vial and sends it ramming up the already gaping crack.

“And now I’ll send mine.” As Harry makes himself scarce, Snape’s last vestiges of consciousness is interrupted by the sound of cracking glass.