Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
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24th February 2013 16:21 - Fic: All in Pink, Dolores/Severus, R
Title: All in Pink
Author: [info]centaury_squill
Characters/Pairings: Dolores Umbridge/Severus Snape
Rating: R
Alternate pairing: Dolores Umbridge/anybody (engaging in sexual activity for some non-romantic reason)
Other Kinks/Themes: dildo, object insertion
Word Count: ~ 1,200
Summary/Description: Snape is summoned to the Headmistress's office.


All in Pink


"You sent for me, Headmistress?" Snape said, standing ramrod straight in front of Professor Umbridge's desk, his eyes resolutely turned away from the hideous kittens frolicking on the plate-infested wall behind her.

"My dear Severus, do sit down," cooed Umbridge. She patted the velvet bow in her hair, a would-be coy smile stretching her flabby lips.

Snape cast an appraising glance around the collection of pink armchairs, rejected them all, and pulled out his wand. With a contemptuous flick, he transformed a small, doily-covered table into a straight-backed chair and sat down.

Umbridge's seductive expression faltered slightly, then she rallied and asked, "What would you like to drink, Severus?"

"Nothing, thank you, Headmistress," Snape said stiffly.

"Oh, I insist," Umbridge said, "just a teensy drop of sweet sherry?" She took in the expression on his face. "Mmm, maybe not... a glass of Firewhisky, perhaps?"

Seeing no way out, Snape nodded reluctantly, and watched as Umbridge waved her short, stubby wand over her desk, producing a tumbler half full of amber liquid. His lip curled as he saw her hand hover over the top of the glass before pushing it across the desk towards him. What an amateur.

He picked up the glass with a show of gratitude and tilted it, pretending to sip. His hooked nose quivered as he sought to identify the potion the fumbling bitch had tried to slip him. Oh, Merlin, surely not. Black eyes narrowed, he regarded her over the glass. She patted the bow in her hair again, smiled winsomely.

Suppressing a shudder, Snape again pretended to sip. He cleared his throat.

"Dolores..." he said hoarsely.

"Yes, Severus?" she replied eagerly.

"...ah... wouldn't you like to change into something more... comfortable?"

He watched closely as the light of triumph immediately appeared in the deluded toad's eyes; she got to her feet, her slack mouth stretched in a smile.

"Stay there and finish your drink, Severus," she breathed, "I won't be a moment."

She went out, leaving the door open behind her. Snape could hear her moving about in the next room. Seizing his opportunity, he swiftly emptied his glass into the nearest vase of dried flowers. So the bitch thought she could trap a potions master with an off-the-shelf lust potion, did she? He'd a good mind to make her pay for that.

The question was: why? He had no illusions about his personal attractiveness. She must want something – an illegal potion, most likely – and had chosen this dubious method to seduce him into making it for her. If he were to find out what it was and why she wanted it, he had no choice but to pretend to play along.

The sound of a door closing made him jerk round in his seat. He hissed under his breath. Even with his proven skills in Occlumency, Snape was hard put not to show his revulsion at the sight of Dolores Umbridge's squat, toad-like figure encased in a transparent pink negligee.

"Dolores!" he gasped, with well-simulated surprise. "How... ah... stunning you look!"

She simpered revoltingly, undulated forward, pressed herself against him.

"Severus," she whispered, "take me, I'm yours."

He stared into her eyes, his hand twitching towards his wand. "What is it you want from me, Dolores?"

She pouted. "Don't be shy, Severus, surely you must know what a woman wants from a man? Don't you have fantasies about making love to a beautiful woman?" She patted her hair again.

Seizing on a possible way out, Snape attempted to look abashed. "But, Dolores... my fantasies... I'm ashamed to say..."

Her flabby face tightened a little. "Yes?"

"... involve boys."

She gave a high pitched laugh. "That's no problem, Severus, I'm quite willing to pretend to be a boy. Look."

And she turned around, bending over her desk; one fat, beringed hand twitched up her negligee at the back, revealing white, pendulous buttocks; she looked coyly over her shoulder at him and winked.

Calling desperately on his Occlumency skills again – this was worse than an interrogation by the Dark Lord – Snape said, feebly, "Amazing."

Then, remembering he was supposed to be in the grip of a lust potion, he got up from his chair and, roughly seizing her head, forced it round so he no longer had to look into her bulging eyes – and, more importantly, she couldn't see him.

"What are you doing?" she squeaked, half thrilled, half alarmed.

"This is the way my fantasies always play out," Snape growled, his voice deep, lustful, menacing. "Keep quite still."

Without her seeing what he was doing, he quickly snatched up a quill from her desk – a loathsome looking object, long, black and thin, with an unusually sharp point.

Ideal.

Placing one hand firmly on the back of Umbridge's neck so she couldn't look round, with the other Snape drew his wand and Transfigured the quill into a lubricated dildo. Wordlessly casting a spell of his own invention from his schooldays, he set the dildo to work, pistoning rhythmically in and out between Umbridge's flabby arse cheeks. He didn't know, or care, which orifice the Transfigured quill had chosen for its activities, but judging by the breathy sounds Umbridge was making she had no complaints. Remembering that he was supposed to be under the influence of a lust potion, Snape emitted a few groans of his own.

Eventually, Umbridge's cries rose in pitch: she quivered like some repulsive jelly, slumped against the desktop, fell silent. Snape cautiously released her and stepped back. With a quick flick of his wand the quill was restored to its former appearance and position on the desk. When Umbridge turned around, a smile of triumph on her toadlike face, Snape was pretending to rearrange his clothing.

Assuming that the lust potion's influence could reasonably be expected to have worn off by now, Snape simulated an expression of horrified confusion.

"What – what have I – "

Umbridge's triumphant smirk deepened, creasing her flushed, pouchy cheeks.

"Your unbridled lust for me overcame you, Professor Snape," she said, with the inevitable pat to her hair. "Really, I should report you to the Ministry."

Snape pasted a look of alarm onto his face. "Please don't do that, Headmistress. I don't know what came over me."

Umbridge tittered. "Well, I suppose I can't blame you for finding me irresistible. We'll say no more about it..." Her eyes sharpened, fixed on his face, "...provided, that is, you perform a little task for me."

Here it comes, thought Snape. "Task, Headmistress?" he asked, keeping his expression neutral.

"Yes, I need you to brew some Veritaserum for me," she said.

"Veritaserum? But that's a –"

"– Ministry controlled substance. Yes, I know," Umbridge said impatiently, "But you're hardly in a position to refuse, now are you?"

"No," replied Snape shortly. "May I ask for what you require this substance?"

"I wish to interrogate Mr Harry Potter," Umbridge said, pursing her lips with remembered insult.

Good luck with that, Snape thought sardonically, the brat is so obstreperous and self-willed, I'll not need to dilute the potion much for him to throw off its effects with ease. Halving the amount of belladonna should suffice.

Aloud, he said, "Certainly, Headmistress. I'll have it ready for you by the end of the month."

- fin -
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