It was the middle of April, and Mrs. Norris was in heat.
Filch could tell right away. Normally a very composed cat, lately she had been yowling loudly, longingly, and sensuously rubbing herself against his hairy legs as he undressed for the night.
This, understandably, made Mr. Filch quite uncomfortable. Mrs. Norris was starting to embarrass him in front of the students, what with her persistent grinding against his legs and the low, throaty purrs which kept escaping from her throat.
But what to do about this? Filch didn't understand very much about animal sexuality, although he assumed the problem would be fixed in much the same way for animals as for humans. When he got into such moods, he either shut Mrs. Norris out of his room and spent some quality time with his right hand, or he paid a visit to Madame Pince (unfortunately, the latter was a rather rare occasion).
Having no desire to masturbate his cat to relief, Filch decided he needed to find a male cat for Mrs. Norris. However, the only male cat he knew of in the castle belonged to a female student. He wondered…
Filch waited for Hermione Granger after her Potions class. Having kept watch on Harry Potter many times, the hellion, Filch knew that Granger separated from Potter and Weasley then. He cleared his throat as she approached.
"Granger," he barked. "I need to see you in my office."
"But Mr. Filch!" She looked as if she were about to burst into tears. "I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"
"Not this time, you haven't," he muttered. "It's something else. Come with me."
When they reached the office, Filch shut the door after her; Hermione glanced uneasily at the sealed exit.
"Tell me," Filch said, approaching the desk, "is that cat of yours neutered?"
"Crookshanks? Y-yes," she stammered.
"Oh, thank the lord," breathed Filch, sitting down heavily. "It's Mrs. Norris. She's in heat. She's drivin' me mad." He shook his head.
Hermione blushed a deep red. "So you want me…to let Crookshanks…" she gulped, "copulate with Mrs. Norris?"
"That's the idea. We don't have to tell nobody about this. I just didn' know what else to do."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, but looked to be considering this proposition. "Well…I can't see the harm in it. Crookshanks can get unbearable at times as well. Shall I go and fetch him now?"
"You will? Oh, thank you Granger!" Filch looked as if he might jump up and hug her; Hermione automatically took a step back.
"I'll just be right back."
She returned, Crookshanks in tow, 10 minutes later. Mrs. Norris must have smelled the male cat immediately, for she started yowling more terribly than ever from behind Filch's bedroom door. Crookshanks leapt out of Hermione's arms and bolted to the shut door; he began pawing frantically at it and matching Mrs. Norris' mad yowls.
"Shall we just…leave them alone for a while?" Hermione looked deeply uncomfortable.
"Yeah, I think that would be best." Filch, got up, hastily let Crookshanks into the bedroom, and shut the door. Almost immediately the sounds of things being knocked over and high-pitched meows came from behind the door. Filch hustled Hermione out of the office, following her out into the dim hallway. "Come back for him later tonight. I can't thank you enough for this."
Hermione only nodded as Filch turned and shuffled off down the hall.
After a long day of dealing with Peeves, an exhausted Filch ambled back to his office to assess the damage. He tentatively pushed open the bedroom door and was greeted by a scene of utter devastation. Half his worldly possessions lie scattered all over the floor. The dresser was overturned, and there were rips in the curtains. The bedcovers had been tangled and pulled partway off the bed ("I just washed those sheets," Filch grumbled to himself), and an inkbottle had been spilled on his pillow. Staggered, Filch fell backward into his armchair and stared at the snoozing male cat sprawled out on a pair of Filch's underwear he must have pulled out of the dirty laundry basket. Mrs. Norris crawled out from under the bed; she hopped into Filch's lap and purred lazily.
He heard a hesitant knock on the open office door. "Mr. Filch?" Hermione called.
"In 'ere," he grunted.
Hermione gasped as she stepped into Filch's bedroom (partly because she never dreamed she'd ever find herself in Filch's bedroom). "Crookshanks, you naughty cat!" The cat responded by rolling over onto his side and letting out an irritated yowl. "Mr. Filch, I am so sorry. Let me fix it." She pulled her wand out of her robes and magically cleaned up the mess left by the two cats.
Filch swallowed a look of jealousy and said, "It's no problem. Thank you for lending me your cat. I owe you one – and don't worry, I won't tell anybody about this."
"Th-thank you," she stammered. "May I go now?" Filch nodded in assent. Hermione crossed the room, pointedly avoiding looking at the laundry basket, scooped up Crookshanks, and hurried out of the room.
Filch looked down at his cat, who was still happily purring. He couldn't lie to himself - the scene of utter devastation the cats had left in their wake had left him hungry for some chaotic sex of his own. He gingerly lifted Mrs. Norris out of his lap and laid her on the freshly-made bed; locking his office door behind him, he made his way toward the library.
Madame Pince was just locking up for the night when Filch reached the library. She appeared pleasantly surprised to see him, and let him into the library before locking the door. "What brings you here at this time of night, Mr. Filch?" she purred, giving him a look that on anybody else would have been a come-hither stare but which on her only served to make her look constipated.
Filch grabbed her around the waist and planted a rough, wet kiss square on her mouth. The librarian kissed him back with equal force, thrilled for this nighttime visit, and reached for his crotch. "My, you're hard already!" She winked at him and began to undo his belt. Filch responded by spinning her around and undoing the buttons on her stern black dress, revealing her bony back. He slid his hand slowly down the bare skin of her back, planting kisses with his chapped lips along the way. She shivered slightly as her dress dropped to the floor. Filch clumsily and hastily unbuttoned his own shirt and pants.
The two stood facing, stark naked, hungry eyes devouring each other's wrinkled bodies.
Filch was the first to move. He scooped up Madame Pince in his sinewy arms and set her on all fours on the closest table. It was a rather low table, low enough for the librarian to take the caretaker's turgid member in her mouth. She slid her lips back and forth against his shaft, but, unsatisfied with such a light touch, he grabbed the back of her head, dislodging her customary tight bun, and pulled her head forward until he felt himself fill her entire mouth. Her eyes bugged out, but Filch knew from experience that Madame Pince had a shoddy gag reflex at best. She grazed his cock with her teeth and he moaned in ecstatic pain. After a short time of pumping in and out of her throat, Filch pulled away, lest he come already. Madame Pince swallowed a small mouthful of shed pubic hair and pre-come and Filch grabbed her and kissed her again; he loved tasting himself mingled with the sour taste of her mouth.
Pulling hair out her teeth, Madame Pince pulled back and turned herself around on the table, presenting herself to Filch as the heated Mrs. Norris had. Filch spat on his palm and rubbed it against his cock before spreading apart the librarian's arsecheeks and plunging his rigid wand deep into her chamber of secrets. She let out a yelp as he hit her cervix, but Filch had no care for her pain. "Oh, you've been a bad girl, yes you have, you need to be punished." Filch grinned as he plowed in and out, in and out of Madame Pince's gaping cunt. He grabbed a handful of her dark grey hair and pulled until she squealed in pain. "That's a good girl, now," Filch leered at her. "But I don't think the punishment's sunk in yet."
He yanked his dripping cock out of her and bent over, groping at her pendulous, wrinkled breasts and pinching her nipples. "Maybe I should just leave you hanging, eh? Will you be a good girl if I let you come?"
Madame Pince moaned something resembling a "Yes" and sucked on Filch's work-roughened fingers as he stroked them along her jaw.
"Well then." Filch left her on the table as he picked up his jacket, pulling to lengths of rope out of a pocket. "I have to make sure you don't try to resist your punishment." He grabbed the librarian's waist and flipped her onto her back. Using one length of rope for each hand, he tied her wrists to the table legs, knowing full well how awkward and uncomfortable she would be.
Filch heaved himself onto the table, positioning himself between Madame Pince's spread knees. Having never given birth, the librarian's cunt was still very tight, even though obviously age had loosened and greyed the skin. Filch took the sagging lips of her labia into his mouth and plunged his tongue between them and upward to her clit. She let out a wail and writhed on the library table, wrists pulling vainly at their bonds. Filch lapped his tongue at the hardened knot of her clitoris, nibbling here and there at the lips. Madame Pince rocked back and forth on the table; Filch could tell she was nearing orgasm.
Shaking with the devilish pleasure of denying her orgasm, Filch instead plunged his tongue into her parched vaginal canal, wetting it for his imminent entry. Madame Pince let out a deep moan like a dehydrated man denied water. Filch drew himself back and up, steadying himself for entry. Again he plunged his hard and pulsing cock into Madame Pince, hovering over her, his long greasy hair brushing against her sagging breasts, bringing her nipples to attention.
Filch slid the entire length of his member deep into the librarian, slowly pulling himself in and out at first, but getting quicker and more frantic each time, faster and harder until the heavy oak table shook and quaked and Madame Pince squirmed and squealed beneath him. Filch breathed hotly on her chest and suckled at her nipples as he plowed into her again and again. Drawing his right arm back. He slid it underneath her and slid one calloused finger into her arsehole. Madame Pince let out a wavering, high-pitched scream, and Filch could feel her coming, what juices she still had flowing around his cock and down her crack onto Filch's fingers and the table.
Filch took his finger out and reached it underneath himself, grabbing his wrinkled balls. He pumped into the still-reeling Madame Pince harder than ever, squeezing his own balls. He began to shake as he felt himself about to explode. Right as he was about to blow, he freed himself from the librarian's cunt and spouted his load all over her sagging chest and stomach. It seemed to Filch that the orgasm would never end, as his cock gushed and gushed semen onto the prostrate Madame Pince.
Finally, he was spent. He kicked a hair out from under the table and sank onto it as he had earlier upon seeing his demolished bedroom. He cast a glance over at Madame Pince, who caught his eye and cracked a smile.
"Untie me, you oaf," she pleaded, still grinning crookedly.
"Oaf?" Filch feigned offense. "See if I untie you now."
And with that, he dressed himself, ignoring Madame Pince's protests and apologies. Whistling, he strolled out of the library, leaving Madame Pince tied to the table, stark naked, covered in his semen.
When he got back to his room, Filch took a quick bath, still whistling to himself. Mrs. Norris perched on the bed, waiting for him to dry off and turn in for the night. He pulled on a ratty pair of shorts, shut off the light, and crawled under the covers. Mrs. Norris lay down on his chest, purring contentedly. "Good day, eh?" he said, stroking her back.
As he drifted off to sleep, Filch couldn't help wondering who would be the first to discover Madame Pince the next morning…