Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters... nor do I own you, dear reader.
This was written in response to a liker-asked challenge (on the FB Harry Potter page, 'The 7HP books are my 7 horcruxes' where I admin, and am known for my disturbing fanfiction): 'To make the most horrifying, non-descriptive HP fanfic, with reader involvement, possible...'
YOU BE SURE AND TELL ME IF I SUCCEED, WON'T YOU?
WARNING: Do not read if not brave enough, likely to projectile vomit, or do not have proper and correct access to an eye-gouging implement.
WARNING: This May Disturb All Viewers, No Matter What the Age...
~*Oh Professor: A Horror Story*~
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...you feel the slick slide of a wand sensuously breaching your person, and tremble; goosebumps appear across your skin, but not in the least voluntarily so...
Her gnarled hands are touching your bare flesh, and your empty stomach roils in protest, but you must respond positively; lest others suffer as you do. The hot, fetid breath of Professor Umbridge gusts over your face from where she leers above you.
Your mouth parts as expected by now, the dance is old, the punishment remains unchanged... she likes it when you beg, make noise, spill a litany of apologies...
If you do not, she gets rougher, and you will bleed ere the end...
There is no way to treat your scratches and bitemarks alone, but Madam Pomfrey is forbidden. Only those who suffer the same fate may render aid... you can feel their yes even now; trapped into watching this display, awaiting their own turn upon the teacher's desk, from where they are petrified in their seats.
Detention is not a word so lightly used at Hogwarts... for none question the determination of punishment to be given; and none of the faculty could ever believe that Umbridge would do something like... this.
As unclad as you, your eyes are forced to remain fixated on her face or they will wander to every large, sagging, wrinkled part that is gently sliding against you with every movement...
Watch her face at all times, gauge what she wishes you to do, moan as she moves one way or beg as she moves another; shudder as the self-satisfied smirk fills her face...
Play the game.
Pretend it is someone else... Hermione, Ron, Harry, Draco, Ginny, The Twins or Neville... you are sure at least one envisions you back when Umbridge gives them their punishment...
You don't mind, if it comforts them...
The smirk rises, you writhe and try not to think about the clammy, protruding flesh bulges sweatily slicking across your skin, within seconds you pretend and cry out; an end at last, you breathe as you feel the offending object recede with a horrifying noise.
But it is not truly so... for once she has completed her punishment with you, the Imperius curse descends once more, forcing you upright and jerkily back to your desk.
Umbridge's wand flicks once, and you are again petrified in your naked, dishevelled state, like many of the others in the room; a second flourish of her wand, and one of the twins rises to their feet not of their own volition and begins the slow, jerky striptease of a walk to the front.
You pray for him, silently wishing you were telepathic... but you cannot turn your head away to spare them the indecency of what has been witnessed countless times before... you are frozen; just as the others were during your own torment, horrified as she begins her assault...
If only this was the last of it... that this was an end; you could simply break into the Prefect's bathroom, run a bath hotter than the surface of the sun and all present might soak and scrub away the slick, disgusting sensation of Umbridge.
But it is not to be...
You will never be free of this devious, detention-giving witch, until she leaves Hogwarts...
As the Twin begins to moan loudly, you cannot tell them apart yet, despite months of exposure, you feel the slightest tinge of movement in a hand, and focus on it...
Eventually clenching the fist itself... arm becoming more mobile as the potion you took earlier to counter-act petrification finally takes hold.
A smile crosses over your face as you realise that you have already beaten her... in another two classmates you will be free, and though the vile pink-loving creature may have stipped you of your clothes, your innocence and your dignity...
...you had one advantage...
She never thought to check under your chair, for the knife strapped underneath...
This ends tonight, you think, and stare blankly ahead without seeing as your limbs slowly awaken.
Just a matter of time...
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The End.
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Try not to picture Umbridge naked for the rest of the night, oh wait... sorry... now her bulgy, bodgy bit sliding against you will haunt your dreams forever.
~The-Admin-Who-Is-Uncertain-If-They-Should-Feel-Pri de-or-Shame-for-this-Fic...
Let me know how you feel in a REVIEW!
*Maniacal Laughter*
~*SailorSilvanesti/Phoenix Fire*~