Title: When Making a Mid-Life Career Change, Consider Doing What You Love
Author: florahart
Characters/Pairings: Dolores Umbridge, OCs
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: bloodplay(ish), prostitution, probably noncon
Other Warnings: Umbridge is acquiring Muggle clients for her prostitute employees (who are OCs) by means of magic; consent for the act and certainly the means of payment, therefore, is at least dubious.
Word Count: ~1350
Summary/Description: A girl has to pay the rent, after all.
Author's Notes: Stretching myself: I don't generally write Umbridge in a sexual situation, and I don't think I have ever written anyone enjoying being cut during sex, or watching other people bleed. I'm...not at all sure I did it right. Heh.

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When Making a Mid-Life Career Change, Consider Doing What You Love

A rush of sound spilled up and out from underground as Muggles exited their odd below-ground train in pairs and chattering groups, turning off to the left and the right with their dull concerns and unimportant crises. It happened every few minutes of every day, a constant stream of people, as though there was no end to the Muggles of London. As though, if one were deliberate, none would be missed should they take a wrong turn and disappear.

Dolores stood silent, hidden, against the rough gray stone of the church and considered her options.

This corner was too busy, of course, but the sound and the activity of the subway was constant; she'd had to become accustomed to London in her work at the Ministry (before it had fallen; she wondered whether she would ever again have the opportunity to rise), and now the silence of her childhood home, north and west in the hills, would have been maddening in its stillness. Not that she had been back, not in fifteen years. There was no call for it, and she'd been busy in her career.

Another train rumbled in below and another insignificant burst of Muggle humanity jogged and shambled up the steps and out onto the street.

Dolores considered the shape of the steps, nodded slowly to herself, and moved away from the wall. The Ministry's library was sadly no longer available to her, but she'd planned well against crisis, and a number of the most relevant texts lay quiet in the bottom of her trunk in the room she'd let just last week. She had work to do.

–

"Do you think--" The boy broke off, shuddering, as he walked through the shimmer Dolores could only barely see. One of his companions, a slender girl of perhaps twenty, startled as the feel of it hit her, and the boy's eyes glazed over. Neither of them said another word as they left their friends behind. The friends, stupid Muggles that they were, called after them once, and then shrugged and went off to their absurd football game.

Dolores nodded her approval, although of course there was no one to observe her; she'd seen to that. She dispersed the veil and stepped forward. The pair ignored her. They turned sharply to the right and then left, along the street for three blocks and then through a wall no Muggle should have been able to pass through regardless of whatever latent magical blood might run in their veins. Dolores, twenty paces behind them, nodded again, and followed.

–

The alley was dim, deep between tall buildings and shadowed. One wall was damp with moss that looked dark and sick next to the boy's hand where he leaned, already deep in negotiation with a witch whose glamour was so thin and weak Dolores wondered why she bothered. Still, it seemed to serve the purpose, as far as the boy was concerned; in another minute they'd come to terms and the witch led him through a narrow door into what had once been an unassuming Muggle office space. It had been abandoned for several years.

His erstwhile companion watched him go, then returned her attention to her own negotiation.

Dolores watched as she went in through the same door, and again, Dolores followed. She was in the business of collection, and making sure the clients paid was one of the best parts of her new line of work.

She pulled out her wand.

–

It wasn't until the second neat slice that the boy seemed to realize there was anything out of the ordinary about his situation. He'd been all too happy to push down his trousers and crawl between Delia's legs, and he didn't seem to mind Delia's indifference, his face a curious study somehow of blank exhilaration as he pumped into her and Dolores came up beside them.

He was a big boy, healthy, certainly able to spare what she would take. She drew her wand down the inside of his forearm, to the hand planted on the counter Delia had lain back on, and gathered the oozing blood into a vial with a twist and a twitch of the tip before walking around and repeating the exercise on the other arm.

It was a waste, of course; he bled more than Dolores collected, but she had another client to see to, and the girl had been the more appealing of the two, so she wanted to be sure not to miss it.

She turned and went round the end to the next cubicle, scrubbing away a stray droplet from the end of her wand as she went. It wouldn't do to contaminate her collections that way, although the scientist in her said it would hardly matter; Muggle blood was Muggle blood, after all. But Borgin and Burkes, junior, offered more Galleons for purer samples, and a girl had to pay the rent, so that was that.

She sealed up the first vial and got out a second.

The girl lay back on what once had been a secretary's desk, Penelope's fingers shoved down into her unfastened denims, her fingers grasping the edge of the desk as she arched and panted. Penelope pulled away and moved to the end of the desk, nudging for the girl to lift her hips and bare herself for them, and the girl sat up and then stood, pushing the jeans to the floor and sitting back down to work them over her shoes.

Dolores smiled and sat in a plastic chair placed where she could see.

Penelope conjured a toy, a crude representation of a thick cock, and Dolores sat up a bit straighter, leaning forward for a better view as the girl spread her legs wide and Penelope pressed the into her fast and hard.

The girl arched again, eager, and Dolores bit her lip and glanced at Penelope, who might have been scrubbing cauldrons for all the interest she showed. Which was as it should be; she received her share of the Sickles, and it only mattered that the girl paid. Dolores enjoying the show was only a special bonus.

She pressed her thighs together for a long moment, allowing herself to enjoy the thrumming pulse in her crotch, then stepped forward and began, slicing neatly along the inner thigh and watching the blood drip free.

The girl whimpered, but opened her legs further, and Dolores looked up at her face, at her alert gaze. She sliced again, and the girl closed her eyes.

Penelope huffed slightly; she never liked the mess (not that she complained, of course, but Dolores could tell) and the second cut had been rather deeper than Dolores had quite meant to make it, blood spurting out more quickly than the vial could take it in.

Her hand shook as Dolores healed the deeper end of the cut, and she dismissed Penelope with a wave, getting out a third vial and preparing to cut again.

The girl reached down to fuck herself with the dildo with one hand, rubbing the other through the stickiness on her thighs, and Dolores made one more shallow slice into the artery, collecting at least double the payment negotiated before she healed it. Dead Muggles brought investigations, and no one wanted that. Besides, she could be a repeat customer; Dolores suspected this one wouldn't find herself avoiding the area like so many.

She pushed the girl's hand away roughly and took over the task of pushing into her, dropping her wand to the floor to bring her other hand in to find the girl's swollen clit.

It only took a moment to make her come, and another to clear up enough of her memory to avoid any unwanted questions.

When she'd gone, Dolores checked to see that the boy had gone, as well, then left Penelope and Delia cleaning away the blood on both counters.

She herself picked up the dildo, smeared with blood and come and smelling of Muggle, and dropped it in her bag. After she cashed out tonight, perhaps some personal time was in order.