Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
Kinky Kristmas Fic: A Cat for Christmas (Filch/Umbridge) 
2nd December 2014 19:00
Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: [info]amand_r
From: [info]inamac

Title: A Cat for Christmas
Characters/Pairings: Umbridge/Filch
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Included: Props, cat themed issues
Other Warnings/Content: caning, flagellation (implied), D/s, roleplay
Word Count: 2000
Summary/Description: With Dumbledore concerned with Order business over Christmas Dolores takes the opportunity to celebrate Christmas at Hogwarts in her own way. Happily Argus Filch is able to meet her requirements.
Author's Notes: Dear Deviant, Happy Kinky Kristmas. I am afraid that I may not have interpreted your request for 'Filch and Umbridge bonding over cats' in quite the way you expected – hope you enjoy anyway.



Dolores loved Christmas. It had always been her favourite time of year. She loved the tradition of it all: the ritual stirring of the Christmas pudding on 'Stir up Sunday' (as a child she had always been allowed to drop the Enchanted Pea into the bowl); the decorations (especially the mistletoe bough); the presents (socks for Grandad, gloves for Granny, embroidered handkerchiefs for Nanny and the other relatives); the fairy on the tree (she would never forget the first time she had been allowed to perform the Imperius and the Petrifying Charm on the one she had caught in the Forest on her thirteenth Christmas, it had been such a disappointment to have to free it on Twelfth Night). And the food! She had a recipe for Brandy Snaps that could take an unwary finger off if you weren't careful. She made a note to pass it to the Hogwarts kitchen elves.

She was determined that despite the – resentment – her appointment to Hogwarts had caused she would ensure that the pupils and staff enjoyed a proper old fashioned Christmas. Yes, a traditional celebration would cheer everyone up and take their minds off the wicked lies being told by the Potter boy and his cronies. He Who Must Not Be Named was no more real than Father Christmas. And it was the latter who would be visiting Hogwarts to distribute gifts for the good boys and girls. She looked forward to seeing their smiling, happy faces around the festive board on Christmas Day.

There was a knock at her door. She put down the pen on the inkstand, composed herself in her high-backed chair, and put what she believed was a welcoming smile on her face before she bade the caller "Enter."

Mr Filch, the school caretaker, shuffled into the room. His attitude was deferential and his eyes downcast, so her faux benevolence was wasted.

"You wanted to see me, Madam Professor High Inquisitor Under Secretary?"

"Oh yes." The smile became genuine. It was so rare for her to receive the proper respect that was her due. "You may address me as Highness as it is more convenient. I wanted to talk to you about the arrangements for Christmas. Things will be very different this year."

Filch looked apprehensive. He did not like 'different'. It usually meant more work for him.

"Since Dumbledore himself, and very few of the students will be here I do not think that it is appropriate to make too much fuss. For a start," she continued, "there will be only one Christmas Tree. It will be in the Entrance Hall. One is quite sufficient. There is no need to denude the surrounding forest to fill the Great Hall with pine needles for the rest of the year."

An expression which might have been an attempt at a smile twitched Filch's lips. He had been complaining about that to Dumbledore for years.

"Furthermore," she continued, "I shall arrange for non-tamper charms to be applied around the dressed tree. Any student who attempts to interfere with the decorations will be severely dealt with."

The smile widened. No more Exploding Baubles or Tickling Tinsel or Chilli Chocolate Coins? That would fix those Wicked Weasels. "Will you be wanting the decorations for the Great Hall brought down from the attics, Highness?" Filch asked. He could hardly believe his luck. Getting the dusty boxes down without the use of magic was a task he hated almost as much as having to decorate the Great Hall. Dumbledore seemed to believe that garlands grew on trees.

"That would be a waste. There are very few pupils staying for the holidays. They can be occupied with making their own festive garlands." She gestured to the cupboard in one corner of the room. "I have plenty of spare parchment from those who have had to write me lines in detention. You may distribute it to the First and Second years, along with scissors and sufficient Spellotape to make chains. They should be instructed to put the scarlet side outwards, as it is a seasonally festive colour." She gave a little shiver, either at the concept of chains, or the thought of how the used parchment had come to be stained red.

Filch caught the movement and interpreted it correctly. "Excuse me, Highness, but speaking of detention, I wondered whether you might consider giving me back the punishment duties I had under Headmaster Dippett. I still have all the old equipment. Keep it in good order too."

"Equipment, Mr Filch?"

"The canes, of course. Good whippy ones. And chains, for the truants, once they'd been caught in the mantraps. And," the expression might have been a smirk, smothered quickly, "some other devices of my own."

"That is most... interesting, Mr Filch. I have a class now, but I should like to... inspect... the equipment. Perhaps after dinner, if you have no other duties?" Her eyes were shining, and her voice shaking with suppressed eagerness.

"None at all, your Highness. I'll just take that parchment, shall I? And I'll be waiting for you after dinner."

She watched him take the pile of old essays from her cupboard. The Filch family, she thought, was old Wizarding stock. They'd served Hogwarts for centuries, usually as Professors and Board Members. It was good to find someone who respected the old traditions. An ally in this depraved place. She looked forward to the evening.

-oo00oo-


The tail of the kitten on the face of the clock on the wall of her boudoir was on the 4 and the ball of wool it was patting around the dial had just passed the 9 when Dolores finally set down her hairbrush, gave a last pat of powder to her nose and rose from her beflounced dressing table to settle her cardigan round her shoulders and depart for her meeting with Mr Filch.

A Find Me charm led her from the well travelled classrooms, staffrooms and dormitories of the school to an alternative world of service corridors, storerooms and mysterious plumbing. She finally found a secure, iron-bound magic-proof door labelled Caretaker not far from the entrance to the dungeons.

She wasn't sure what to expect as she knocked on the door. This part of the castle was rather squalid but, she had to admit, it was clean. The flagstones had been scrubbed and the ironwork blackleaded. The door opened on silent, oiled hinges and Filch stood aside to allow her to enter his domain.

The room looked cluttered, except that on second glance everything was neat and clean, precisely placed to be readily accessed if needed. A workman's room, with tools always to hand.

And such tools! She gave a little anticipatory shiver. If only she had known, when she was a student, that this place existed. Though now it was little more than a storeroom back then it would have been in use. She had never, alas, been caught in any act that would have merited corporal punishment. Her fascinated gaze passed over the equipment.

The rack was upended against one wall to emphasise the fact that it was in storage, ropes slack but dust-free and oiled. There were three St Andrew's Crosses, in increasing sizes, two stacked against the wall, the tallest, still bolted in place with its straps dangling, all bearing neat labels: Juniors, Seniors, and Staff.

Dolores' little pink tongue darted between her lips as her eyes flicked from that to the lines of hooks with their burden of chains and whips. Filch saw the reaction and rubbed his hands. It was so good to have someone who could appreciate his work.

"It all seems in very good order," she said with her usual primness. "We shall have to see whether the Governors would approve a return to the old disciplinary rules." Mr Crabbe and the Goyles would, she knew, and Mr Malfoy might be persuaded to talk the others round after a word with the Minister. Not that their children would ever have to fear being sent here. This was for mudbloods and blood traitors.

"Thank you, Highness," he said. "I dust regular. Would you like to see the rest of the tools?"

She took a breath. It had been so long since little Dolores had been able to relax. Dare she? Why not. "Thank you. I should like that. And perhaps to have a demonstration?" She did not wait for an answer. A flick of her wand locked, bolted and hexed the door. It would not do to be disturbed while she was... inspecting... the equipment.

"Now," she continued, divesting herself of her cardigan, "pretend that I am a very naughty girl who has been sent to you for punishment. Show me how you would proceed."

He proceeded, quite correctly, by ordering her to remove her outer garments, and to bend over the horse. If she had had her clipboard she would have given him full marks for attitude. She did as he bid.

"How many strokes did your teacher order?" he asked when her round bottom was presented to him.

"Sss... six of the best?" It had been a long time, for both of them. Best to start traditionally. He obviously agreed, for the instrument he took from the chest against the wall was a thin whippy cane with a crooked handle.

"Six it is. Count."

It had not been her practice to pad her knickers with parchment or schoolbooks, so she expected the sting, but the force came as a shock. Filch was definitely well practiced.

One. Fair and square across both buttocks.

Two. A little higher, angled right, he was definitely good at this.

Three. Angled left. He was marking her with a cross. That was right. She had done very wrong.

Four. It was stinging now, even through the cotton of her knickers. Next time she would wear silk.

F— Five. Too much. Not enough. Harder. Her eyes and her cunt were weeping.

Ssssssssix! Oh yes! More! She clenched and unclenched, but could not yet come. It wouldn't do to come over her Housemaster's desk....

She waited. The horse was padded, unlike the desk, and she did not have the hard edge pressing against her pubis, reinforcing her arousal. Nevertheless she was ready. She hoped that Filch would not disappoint.

He did not. There was a click as the cane was set down out of her sight on some metal surface. A calloused hand pulled down her knickers, just far enough to allow his cock to slide down her crack and into her cunt. She pulsed, anticipating the delicious pain to follow. She was no longer a tight virgin schoolgirl, but it had been a long time, and the head pushing against her was big and hard. She pushed back, taking him in, relishing his grunt of satisfaction. Then he took control. His hands came round to grasp the tits crushed against the suede surface of the horse, the buttons of his open fly pressed against her buttocks, marking her thrash-reddened skin as he began to pound into her.

She had made no sound, until that moment, well schooled by her old Housemaster, but when he came, filling her with Pureblood seed, she groaned with pleasure, and as he pulled out, spent, her eyes filled with tears.

She lay there for while, listening to the sounds of him cleaning himself and rearranging his clothing. At last he came round to confront her, gripped her chin in his wiry fingers and forced her to open her eyes and look up at him.

"You've been a naughty girl," he said. "And you've been punished for it. Do you promise that you won't do it again?"

Ritual. Tradition. She should say yes, shouldn't she? Yes, she would, no she wouldn't. It was all so confusing. What had she done? She pulled away, stood up, pulling her underwear back into place, hiding the evidence, and composed herself.

"Very good. Excellent. I'm pleased to see that you take your duties so seriously. But..." Her glance took in the crosses, the rack and the whips, "I should like to be very thorough. Perhaps after Christmas, when both our duties permit?"

He nodded. "I will wait. Highness."

-oo00oo-


On Christmas morning Dolores was surprised to find that there was a gift with her name under the Hogwarts tree. She could not imagine who would have put it there. Even at the office Christmas party she never got gifts. And with no family there were none under her tree at home. So who...?

She took it back to her room to open in privacy, anti-hex charms at the ready. There was every chance that some student (or even one of the teachers – she did not trust Minerva one inch) might have given her something booby-trapped as a joke. That had happened all too often.

The paper was covered in gambolling Christmas kittens, wearing red hats trimmed with fur. They were delightful. One had rather the look of Mr Filch's Mrs Norris. She had come to like Mrs Norris, the cat had a way of punishing students with those sharp claws that she appreciated. She undid the bow carefully, and opened the box at arms length. Nothing happened. A quick spell revealed that there was nothing magical about the gift. There was a card lying atop the tissue paper.

Something to look forward to in the New Year it said. And was signed Argus.

She parted the paper and looked down at the revealed gift. Silk cords bound into a dark red leather handle, and tipped with sharp silver claws. Clever Mr Filch. It was just what she had always wanted. Her very own cat-o-nine-tails.

End.
Comments 
3rd December 2014 04:26
w0w. I loved this a lot! Perfectly them and creepy as such, but not too much that I couldn't enjoy it without needing to sanitize myself ater, ya know?
:))

Great job!

3rd December 2014 17:24
Anonymous
This is pure gold! :D Your Umbridge gives me wonderful creeps, and of course Filch is perfect. I do realize I'm going to be the only one, but I like the small changes Umbridge made in the usual festive arrangements.:-)
4th December 2014 14:29
Ha, this was great! There's someone for everyone, isn't there? I love the "show me how you'd punish them" conceit, and the clever interpretation of the prompt. :D
4th December 2014 16:31
I'm not even quite sure where to start. First, massive kudos for pulling me in so quickly. I'm not a big fan of either Umbridge or Filch, but your version of Dolores grabbed me quickly by being completely true to canon, but not making me squirm. It was in the very beginning--with the bit about the fairy--that just grabbed hold because it gives us that little flavor of what growing up was like for her, and where she came from.

And her personality just stayed so PERFECT through the entire thing. The moments when she is looking for tradition, and the moments where she is almost flustered. Just absolutely beautifully done. So very very good.
4th December 2014 22:05
I love the worldbuilding you do here, expressed in such clever details -- wee Umbridge using curses on fairies (and not wanting to let them go), the Find me charm -- and of course, the smut is badwrongdirty in just the right way. *g* Love Umbridge's thought processes throughout the story, too.
4th December 2014 22:14
I love the worldbuilding you do here, conveyed through clever details -- wee Umbridge putting curses on the fairy (and not wanting to release it), the Find me charm, just to mention a few -- it adds depth and character to the smut, which is is perfect in that dirtybadwrong way. *g* I love Umbridge's thought processes throughout, too.
4th December 2014 22:17
Anonymous
(I thought IJ had eaten my first comment, so I wrote another one to be sure. Ah well.)
13th January 2015 10:06
Thank you. Everything is better for doing it twice (as I'm sure Dolores would say).
6th December 2014 14:12
Oh Filch, he really does love creative punishment! It's like these two were made for each other. Nicely done!
6th December 2014 22:09
Oh my gosh, that was delicious. They really are perfect for each other!
13th January 2015 10:05
They do fit well together - it was a lovely prompt to work on. Thanks.
16th December 2014 02:23
I loved this, the writing was fantastic, filled with little details that perfectly captures Umbridge's take on the world and how it should be, with these little touches that reveal the sadist underneath. You nailed her completely (figuratively of course, don't know that I would wish that on someone in reality. Well, unless that's your thing of course.) from her tacky cute kitten fetish to her girlish creepiness. Of course Filch would be into her! ;)

Fun story, MA!
13th January 2015 10:04
Thanks. I should probably be quite worried at how easily this came together - all I have in common with Dolores is a career in the Civil Service!
19th December 2014 19:44
Oh.
My.
God.
You did it.

I love everything about this fic! All the little details about Umbridge’s thinking that are just…they seem s normal but they SO aren’t (she would never forget the first time she had been allowed to perform the Imperius and the Petrifying Charm on the one she had caught in the Forest on her thirteenth Christmas, it had been such a disappointment to have to free it on Twelfth Night. LAWL)

What makes this neat is that while there’s penetration, it is almost in the denouement. It’s nice, to be sure, but the caning is brilliant. And the “filling her with Pureblood seed” is so perversely Dolores. And really, if there was anything that Dolores would love, it would be a cat-o-nine tails!

Seriously, I don’t think anyone in HP is as well suited in a bizarre way as Argus and Dolores. I am glad you made him the “top” (though you know she does it from the bottom).

Thank you, mystery author!





13th January 2015 09:57
Thank you for the prompt! I was very late picking up this so was delighted to find something that would let me do canon with a different pairing (and include that tempting punning denoument - sorry!)- you are right, they so deserve each other.
22nd December 2014 05:07
Filch/Umbridge is one of my favorite rarepairs, for exactly the twisted dynamic you show here. Actually, it's practically canon. JKR clearly wrote Umbridge as someone who gets sexually excited by blood, pain, and punishment, and of course she and Filch are bound by cats -- live ones, plated ones, and nine-tailed ones.

Your Dolores voice is perfect -- unctuous and affected and prim and harsh and obsessed with blood, just as she is in canon. And Filch! You make us sympathize with him, poor squib having to do so much difficult work without magic. And Dumbledore, of course, would be oblivious to the trouble (or maybe totally aware of it).

No more Exploding Baubles or Tickling Tinsel or Chilli Chocolate Coins? That would fix those Wicked Weasels.
Excellent Filch line (and characterizes the twins so well, too). We can see why Filch gets exasperated.

She had a recipe for Brandy Snaps that could take an unwary finger off if you weren't careful.
Ahaha! Great line -- As [info]miss_morland says, it's details like this one that help you build such a full and believable world for these characters.

There were three St Andrew's Crosses, in increasing sizes, two stacked against the wall, the tallest, still bolted in place with its straps dangling, all bearing neat labels: Juniors, Seniors, and Staff.
"And Staff"! Nice touch.

One of those perfect stories where kink is character and vice versa. Great job.
13th January 2015 10:00
I'd always wondered about those little canon hints at Filch's experience with punishment (and not just supervising detentions) so it was good to have a prompt that let me play with this. And Dolores is such a delightful character to write. Thank you for reading. Pleased you enjoyed.
31st December 2014 02:34
This is creepy and horrifying and also wonderful and kinky. Well done, Mystery Author. Loads of fun to read. :D
13th January 2015 10:00
Thanks. It was loads of fun to write too!
10th January 2015 02:23
Holy fuck. I never thought I would enjoy this pairing, but Merlin, it makes a ton of sense and you wrote it perfectly. The opening paragraph sets it up well, and the wrapping paper bit was a nice touch. The caning was delicious.
13th January 2015 10:02
Thanks for reading despite the odd pairing - I admit that I wouldn't have picked it if I hadn't been so late to the prompt list - but I'm glad I did. It was great to write.
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