Dolores Jane Umbridge – Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic and head of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission to boot, was alone in her office during her scheduled lunch time. Umbridge had just spent an entire wonderful morning with Mafalda Hopkirk and Yaxley, interrogating muggle-borns, and subsequently watching them receive the Dementor's kiss.
She closed her eyes, as she ate leisurely from her straw dinner basket as she was now on lunch break. For several moments, she sat enjoying the sweet lull of silence. Or rather it was not silence, the ornamental plates on her walls had awfully cute-little purrs from the kitten pictures on them, and outside she could hear the distant hum of hundreds assembling the parchment called "Mudbloods: The Danger and Threat they Pose to a Peaceful Society."
Once done eating her lunch of buttered crumpets with jam, Umbridge rose, first wiping her snotty face with her handkerchief, as she had a cold. She also wiped her mouth of the crumbs and jam and grease on her lips. She went over to the doorway and peered through the blue-green eye inserted in the wood panel. She gloated for a moment, at the hundreds of workers toiling tirelessly for her goal.
She then scurried back over to her desk, tapping her fingers, impatiently against the surface, where there was a flouncy flowered cloth. She gazed into a photograph, framed on her right on top of the desk. It showed a portly, elderly man of his sixties, wearing a green bowler hat. It was the former Minister for Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge. Umbridge had always had a secret crush on him, and now that things were so bad for the former minister, she thought it high-time she took advantage of the weak moment.
She continued to gaze steadily at Cornelius's picture. Her fingers crept under the desk, and suddenly she parted her legs beneath the robes, in which she was wearing over them her latest, favorite pink jacket. She unbuttoned some of the buttons in her robes, and her hands delved into her fatty thighs. Her ringed fingers pressed coldly into the folds of her vagina, as she swished around the unchartered tight territory, still waiting to lose her virginity.
She continued to gaze dreamily at Cornelius as clear liquid sloshed out of her orifice, and came drizzling down her thighs. She continued to rub moaning and sighing, surprisingly sounding like a cat, as her fingers traced her sex, still wearing several ugly, old-fashioned rings.
Another minute past and then from above, a little cuckoo noise sounded, and a bird emerged out of a clock. It was one in the afternoon. Umbridge, forced her stubby fingers out of her wanton sex, and held her hands up to her face. They were soaked in her masturbation. She took out her handkerchief of before, and proceeded to wipe the residue off with it. Her hands then went to her hair, and she felt around to see that her black short mop of hair was in place. Clearly, she was expecting somebody.
To her left, she looked in a small rectangular mirror, scrutinizing her hair-style. She put on a fresh coating of perfume on her neck. Umbridge opened a little box beside the mirror where there was an assortment of bows and hair-clips. She took a bow out, and clipped it at the crown of the back of her head, and then placed in several hair-pins.
"There," she murmured to herself. She then sat, perfectly motionless, her hands folded over her desk. Clearly, she was expecting someone's appointed arrival. And sure enough, a moment later there was a soft knock on the door, "It's Fudge, Dolores. You wanted me to come back today, remember?"
"Oh, yes. Do come in," Umbridge said loud enough for him to hear over the racket of the assembly workers putting the parchments together.
"I had my issues with coming back to the ministry. But I suppose for a simple gathering with an old colleague, it is fine."
"Yes, sit down minister. I was just getting us some tea ready…," said Umbridge, completely civil.
Umbridge swiveled behind her desk to a filing cabinet, on top of which was a teapot still simmering that she had brought in before lunch break.
Out of little white porcelain saucers, Umbridge poured tea for both herself and the former minister. She then took from a tiny tray a few heart-shaped sugar cubes and plunked them in.
Fudge watched intently. He was no fool to this stuff anymore, and he knew to always watch his drink, as he had been instructed for so many years in the political game. Umbridge took a sip, and then Fudge followed.
Fudge broke the silence, "I am afraid, that I have not been getting on well lately and am making you poor company, Dolores. The times have become nightmarish, and it is more obvious than ever that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is reigning over the country again, however discretely. And then with Dumbledore gone – I could hardly risk coming out into the public eye, or else someone in contact with you-know-who would come calling…"
"Yes, that is all rather unfortunate," said Umbridge yet she did not sound sympathetic to Fudge's plight at all.
Fudge's eyes rested on the book on Umbridge's desk: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore by Rita Skeeter, that was located next to her small, rectangular mirror.
" I am doing very well, Cornelius. I am Senior Undersecretary and head of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission," Umbridge said importantly. Then she simpered, "It has all been rather delightful…" and she gave a soft, hissing chuckle.
Suddenly, Umbridge's beady little eyes were eyeing Fudge with arousal.
She bent closer towards Fudge and whispered, "I have something to confess. I am your secret admirer…"
Fudge's eyes popped. "You sent those chocolates and smoking candies to me in the lace doilies, woman? I was worried it could be a Death Eater trying to poison me," he complained indignantly.
Umbridge's face twisted and her honey-toned voice, became even sweeter if that was possible, "It was I, Cornelius. Since you believed my treats were poison, I am sorry to hear you did need not eat them…Yes, I am your secret admirer: 'pussy'…
Fudge cowered in his chair, still frightened and shocked by this news. He became awfully aware of the kittens meowing in the silver plates.
"Now…'pussy' would like to get some of her own favorite treats…Things she wanted while you were minister, Cornelius."
"What do you mean, woman?," burst out Fudge.
"Well, I'm much more influential in this new order now. And I will call all the shots….IF you decide not to comply with them, I will have every skeleton in your closet published for the Wizarding world to see, Cornelius! So…Firstly, I want to have you punished!"
She waited with bated breath, eyes wide, and batting them, waiting for Fudge to respond. He was frowning at her, cocking his head slightly clearly weighing his options.
"Now…go in the corner over there…" And Umbridge pointed with a stubby index finger at a corner of the room.
Fudge sighed, and taking off his green bowler hat, he said abashed, "Yes, madam."
Moments later, he found himself facing an emblazoned poster of "Undesirable: Number One." It was Harry Potter. A little card was attached to the photograph, with a kitten in its corner saying, 'To be punished'. But now, Fudge was Umbridge's little play-thing to be punished, and he felt as vulnerable and pathetic as a little kitten right now.
"Take your dirty traveling cloak off, and also your robes. Then lower your trousers and underwear, and bend over the chair," he heard Umbridge whisper in his ear.
He felt her eyes on him waiting, then complied, laying his clothing in the seat of the empty chair in the corner.
Then he dropped his trousers and briefs to his ankles, feeling a cold draft hit his exposed skin. Resignedly, he bent himself over the back of the upholstered chair, getting one last look at the Potter Poster before he did so. Umbridge did not begin immediately, but seemed to be waiting. Fudge knew the awful witch must be stewing in her own glee. At the joys to be taking advantage of her former boss!
Umbridge raised the sleeves of her right arm, and began pelting several smacks onto Fudge's large, wrinkly buttocks.
Umbridge giggled like a school-girl, stopping. "You are a naughty little boy, Cornelius. And do you know what naughty little boy's deserve?"
She waited for an answer. Fudge gave her an unenthusiastic one, "To be punished?"
"Yes…And a good, hard spanking is exactly what a naughty child deserves!," Umbridge cried in glee.
She continued to reign her hand down onto his exposed, raised bum. Smacking sounds echoing throughout the room, for a good long quarter of an hour. Fudge's buttocks turned a glowing, ruby-red.
He began to moan in pain. Umbridge finally stopped and whispered in his ear, "It hurts doesn't it?"
And she felt her icy hands, smoothing his sore skin, petting his bottom and cooing, "There…that was an old-fashioned, good spanking. All for Cornelius, my naughty little boy…."
Umbridge moved silently over the carpet, and retrieved from her pocket a sharp-looking quill.
"Now…you must write me lines. Write twenty times…'I am a naughty, horny little boy'."
Fudge turned around, to see Umbridge in front of her desk now beating a quill against her palm with impatient rhythm.
Fudge gritted his teeth, looking unafraid. He got his cloak and robes around his shoulders in a hurry and said, "Enough of this, Dolores. Really! Your fantasy is going a bit too far now…"
He stood up straighter, and then he moaned, "Ugh! My back is going to give out…"
He instinctively, ran over to her desk and eased himself into her comfortable, leather arm-chair, stretching his legs out and sighing.
"Can't we just go a little further, Cornelius?," Umbridge said softly. "All I want is to be closer to you…"
Fudge looked at her again, and remembering he was indeed divorced he supposed they could take it to an even higher level.
Fudge pushed his robes back leisurely, and looked up at Umbridge's toad-like face admitting, "Well…Since my wife, Cynthia left…I have not gotten a blow-job in awhile…"
Fudge looked down, at his now exposed cock thoughtfully and back up at Umbridge. She looked like she thought it well beneath her, her shoulders sagging, her face becoming mutinous with rage.
"Why…How dare you Cornelius? I am not to be toyed with, even If I'm your beloved 'pussy'…"
He laughed at her jovially. "I'm only asking for a little favour….Pussy. Nothing painful, like the spanking you just subjected me too."
"Hmph!," she expelled furiously, her face boiling red.
But nevertheless, Umbridge accioed a footstool, beneath their feet, and then she sat her large, squat behind on it, until it sagged around the edges of the footstool.
"Well? Put your juicy little lips around it, Dolores. I mean Pussy."
Umbridge bent into the folds of his robes, and started sucking Fudge's member. Her mouth, looking ever more like a toad that had caught a particular juicy fly. She began to slurp contentedly, and Fudge in his own anger, at what she had done before, wrapped his own hands around her hips, until he was squeezing Umbridge's buttocks.
She opened her eyes, and then stealthily, pointed her wand from under her robes at a drawer. Still sucking she pretended to be receiving pleasure, as she moaned, trying to impersonate the kittens, as it was a purring sound.
The drawer in her desk opened, and out came a line of enchanted paper-clips. They sprang forth, and Umbridge directed them with her wand to Fudge's dick. They wrapped themselves snake-like around his balls, until they were so tight they were cutting off his circulation.
No longer, was Umbridge sucking him, but Fudge reacted with an uproar, "OUCH! That hurt's like hell, lady…"
Umbridge laughed, and Fudge managed to retrieve his own wand, and to unbind the paper-clips from attaching to his cock, before the clips pierced his skin any further.
"I was hoping the clips would remove it…Seeing we don't need any children, maybe something to suck on for later," Umbridge pouted.
Fudge jumped out of the chair, clearly terrified. He looking at Umbridge as if he had never seen her plainly before like she was a dangerous freak.
In a rage, he kicked Umbridge off her footstool, and hovered over her, his wand an inch from hes neck, "Turn around Dolores, and I'll give you a little treat of my own…"
"W-What are you going to do, Cornelius?" She nervously whimpered.
"You shall see…," he sneered.
He pulled her robes back, and then whisked her large, white cotton knickers off . He began, shoving his slightly bleeding cock into her anus, and she screeched from the sharp, severity of the pain.
"Are you a pure-blood, Cornelius?," Umbridge asked.
"Yes, I am," Fudge lied, if only to make her compliant.
He continued to load his cock deep inside her anus, his wand all the while pointed at the nape of her neck to serve the witch as a warning.
Unexpectedly he released himself from her and tripping over the vases and baskets of dried flowers, Fudge made to leave.
"Wait…Cornelius…Less us get a room in the Leaky Cauldron tonight! Pussy is still very tight, you know…," she added delicately.
Fudge shook his head vehemently and said forcefully, "NO. I shall not be visiting anymore, Pussy…I mean Dolores!"
He hastily pulled his trousers up and belted them. Then he was gone from the room in a hurry. The people working looked up curiously to see the former minister arrive and leave so suddenly in a hurry. It would surely spark gossip for a week or two…