The Burning Pen
Sickest Lemon Challenge

Challenge Rules

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are the author's. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Think PINK
by Isabella R.

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"Now Mrs. Norris my sweet, fret not, no one will ever take your place in my heart."

Mumbling as he scratched the bony butt of his cat, Argus Filch gave the waiting scroll a baleful look as he sought to appease the felines offended feelings. Why had he answered that ad in the back of Playwitch?

Because it promised what he could never achieve on his own. As a squib in the Magical world, finding a life mate is hard enough, but add to the mix being of low blood, dubious heritage and smelling like the bottom of a slugs cage, and it's damn well impossible!

Turning the scroll over in his stained hands, he read the insignia once more

To Mr. Argus Filch

Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry

From, Magical Mayhems, Last Chance Dating service.

(Subsidiary of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes)

Taking a deep breath, he knew it was most likely a waste of good galleons, but at the time and after a bottle of cheap firewhiskey, he decided he was sick of dating his own hand and, as much as he loved Mrs. Norris, her claws HURT when he tried to get her to clean up afterwards. So unaware that he was holding his breath, he broke the seal and unrolled the scroll with trembling hands, then went sickly pale as he read.

"Congratulations Argus!

Have we found the Gal for you! One eligible witch in a thousand has been found to meet all your critical points of availability.

She's single, never been wed, still of bearing age, and has no problem with dating the Magically Challenged. She has a good job and agrees that the female should pay half of all dating expenses, and has even signed a contract to pay for your own dating contract costs should you both decide that the match is all you ever dreamed of!

Don’t delay! Act today! Send confirmation via messenger owl to our offices and then your mystery woman will meet you at 2 pm this Saturday, at the Three Broomsticks, look for the Lady in red, and remember, we at Last Chance Dating believe that for every male there is a female, even if she is blind, half mad or seriously impaired."

Stunned he read it through several times before letting out a shriek that sent Mrs. Norris hissing and spitting across the dingy boiler room they called home. Capering about like a flea infested scarecrow, bony knees and knobby elbows flailing about.

"YES! Ya here that ya dried up old pussy? Argus Filch is gonna get some Prime Witch ass, and you cant do nuttin about it!"

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Hogwarts, the most beloved school of Magic, stood bathed in golden butter light as Saturday rolled around. Warm and clear, it was a perfect Hogsmeade outing day and students raced through the halls towards the main doors to break free and cut loose. But in the lower halls, a group of 5th years ran screaming in horror at what they had come upon in a side hall. Argus Filch, decked out in his best courting robes, strutting along like a battered cock of the walk.

From the rust and pink plaid nylon robes, (circa 1970) to the three inch platform boots in lurid orange, to the lampblack hair pomade that had been liberally plastered into his lank snarled hair, Ahh he was a sight to behold! With his Magical Mayhem confirmation scroll in hand, he made his way up into the light of day, and with a superior sneer to a stunned and retching group of students, he set off down the long road leading to Hogsmeade village.

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Bellatrix LeStrange was found loitering about in the half off sale room behind Gladrags Wizardwear. Cursing under her breath as she sifted through cheaply made scanty robes, trying to find something to entice her Lord and Master's more depraved tastes. Frankly he hadn’t touched her or called for her in months and she was itching to get wrapped up in his cold pallid form once more. Oh how she burned and yearned for his favor, how she hated any that He would call on and use instead of her, She, Bella, the most loyal the most true to his will, who else knew how much he enjoyed a hot wine enema when he was in the final throes of ecstatic release? Who? No One! None but Beloved Bella.

But she had a plan, she would capture that Potter brat herself and deliver him to her deepest desire while wearing something sexy and He would HAVE to reward her, if she were lucky, she would be bubbling snake spit for a good solid week.

Finally deciding on the green, she grabbed it up and paid the pittance for her find before balling it into a pocket and dashing out of the shop as she caught sight of the brats streaming into town. And just as she knew they would, the Boy that wouldn’t DIE was seen slipping into the Three Broomstick's with his cronies.

A truly hideous grin cracked her lips as Bella followed and slipped inside. The trap was already set, now all she had to do was reel in the kid and she would be riding the snakeskin pony in no time!

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Delores Jane Umbridge sat in her booth in the Three Broomsticks, nervously tap tap tapping her nails on the rim of a garish pink frothy drink, causing lavender bubbles of fey wine to rise upwards with near queasy effects. Reaching up for the gods only know how many times, she gave the black bow at her hairline a tweak, then admired her reflection in the surface of the menu holder. Dressed in scarlet, not just red, but tomato too long left on the vine, a froth of layered ruffles that billowed and folded about her, giving her the appearance of an overdone and tawdry looking lampshade.

Every time the door opened, she would look towards it, a welcoming smile splitting her toady face, giving her all the charm and grace of an overblown bullfrog. She had finally given in and signed on with Magical Mayhem in the hopes of finding her Mr. Right, even if he was just Mr. Right now! And to make sure that she got some sort of action, she had purchased a bottle of Lydia Pinkhams hormonal booster and lust potion. Oh it was wrong, she knew it was wrong, but she had been on the shelf for so long, that even her Dongers Diligent Dildo, had lost all it's charm

The door opened again and she looked up in time to see that rotten misbred Potter whelp sneaking into the pub. With a look of self righteous indignation she was about to rise, to call out his whereabouts and see him run out, but then a vision in manly glory strutted in and she lost all thought of her petty retribution as she and Argus caught sight of each other across the dimly lit interior.

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Argus found himself pushed aside as he stood in the open doorway, the sunlight behind him setting off his magnificent robes, glowing like a seasick pixie on a bad acid trip. Scowling at the hooded form that seemed intent on knocking him off his platforms, he looked about and caught sight of something, no, someone in red staring at him.

"Merlin’s puckered asscheeks, I bet she puts out on the first date!"

In the hopes that he could get his date to pay for a private room upstairs, he had slipped a bottle of Snapes Woody potion in his pocket, wanting to make sure he got to dip his wick more than once.

And with thoughts of dark rooms and sweaty pig squealing humping, he stepped out of the doorway towards the Toad.Errumm.Woman of his fist slickened dreams

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All was in readiness, the bottle charmed, the tray sent and all she had to do was wait and watch. With an impatient squirm, Bellatrix watched the tray moving through the bar, headed for Potter's table.

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"Ohh, he looks so...so...Tasty!"

Nearly squirming in delight as she eyed the approaching Filch, Delores quickly took a sip of her drink, unaware of the slick pink film it left on her upper lip, then looked up and gave her date her best sexy smile, drooling pink froth along the side of her chin, but at the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a bottle of firewhiskey being delivered to the Potter brats table and with a smirk, she rose, almost tripping up her date as she reached across the tables for the bottle.

"I knew it! Degenerate! Rule Breaker! I'll have you expelled from Hogwarts for this offence Potter!"

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The closer he got to the table, the better his eye sight and the deeper his horror, it was that Umbridge woman! Merlin’s Toejam, even Hooch was better looking than this toad, but then...well she was a witch and she was up for dating squibs and even paying half the bill, what the hell, in the dark all that mattered was having the right bits to be drilled.

Stopping at the table, he found himself disgustingly drawn to the pink goo that seemed to be dripping off her chin, and couldn’t even blink

But when the woman rose and lunged to a student’s table, he took in what was happening in less than a heartbeat and reached also. Oh this was gonna be good! He would recommend the rack for the brat and keep the whiskey for himself.

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Watching, waiting. The bottle was closer and closer. What teen could resist the temptation of alcohol? Her thighs clenched tight as she tried to keep from fidgeting nervously, waiting for the bottle to be taken.

But then, two hands reached out and simultaneously, grabbed the charmed bottle before the brat could react

"NOOOO!"

Too late, a flash of light, a gut twisting wrench and the portkey activated and Filch and Umbridge winked out of sight.

Stunned silence filled the three Broomsticks, accusing eyes locked on the dumbfounded teens...then chaos erupted as Bellatrix slapped a hand to her face and groaned.

"Snake shit on a cracker, something tells me I'm REALLY screwed over this one"

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He itched, Salazar’s hairy nutsack, he itched!

It was shedding season and from head to toe, the Great and Powerful Dark Lord of all things unholy. He was peeling like a beached tourist on a Florida beach. The only thing that helped was a long soak in a tub of warmed dragon oil. And at the moment he was chin deep in the tub, sighing as he fought the urge to dig out a persistent itch buried between the cheeks of his butt crack.

Mulling over his magnificent plans, and thinking back to the pensieve memories Severus had sent him of the latest orgy between the potions Master and the Malfoys as he slowly fisted his itching cock, but his quiet time was suddenly interrupted when something large and fat, plummeted from the ceiling, landing on him and with an evil "Glub" the Dark Lord was shoved to the bottom of the pool.

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"Shitshit, Oh Dear Gods below, he's going to curse me into oblivion!"

Running through the halls of the Dark Lords latest hiding place, having hit the apparation point and sent minions scattering as she apparated still screaming in fear and rage. The folds of her robes flaring and flying behind her, stumbling as she snapped a heel off the adorable little snakeskin stripper boots she had bought for His pleasure, but she will not allow it to slow her down. You see, Bella had made a mistake, one she realized as soon as the portkey snapped on the pair, instead of sending them to the Masters throne room, it keyed directly in on him.

Exploding into the throne room in time to hear McNair grunting to Wormtail,"Show me what that tongue can do". Finding McNair plowing into one of the wives of an out of favor Deatheater and Peter kneeling behind the panting sweaty wizard, prying McNair's hairy asscheeks apart and happily slurp licking deep into the straining wizards bowels.

Without slowing, Bellatrix planted the toe of her left boot into Wormtail's swollen scrotum sending him squealing and spurting forward, shoving a keening shriek and a rather girlish "Ohhh!" from McNair as she snagged the pale and retching Pettigrew by his sparse greasy hair.

"Where is the MASTER!"

Unable to speak, all the gooey animagus could do was wave weakly towards the corridor leading to Voldemort’s private bathing chambers.

And it was all Bellatrix could do to keep from pissing herself, even as she broke into a limping run to save the Dark Fruits of her most deviant desires,

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Crashing down on top of the large pillow that Umbridge made, Argus found himself in a big pool of oil and looking about like a myopic owl. Well now this was more like it, never thought he would find a woman with his kinks, things are looking up more and more.

Then the unsteady surface under his platform boots shifted and heaved, Umbridge SQUEALED! As a large thrashing snake crawled up her wobbly backside, slapping at it savagely. Jumping about trying to get away from it, Argus couldn’t stop the guffaws that rolled, laughing till he had tears in his eyes. "Yes yes, that’s it, Hop little toady, hop!"

With a CRASH! The doors slammed open and a wild "CRUCIO!" hit Argus, the next took out Umbridge and as both floundered and jerked, bodies tearing themselves apart at the muscle and joints, twisted and screaming in the oil, Bellatrix made a dive for the pool, pushing Umbridge's jittering cellulite rolled arse off the Dark Lord's chest and hauling Him to the surface.

Trying to clear the oil from his throat and skin gummy nose slits, she ignored the thrashing tortured pair that lashed the bath into a frothing mess.

But the sounds of breaking glass made her look away even as the Dark Lord sneezed oil, and his cock took to waving about again as Voldemort struggled for air.

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Pain! Ohh ow ow! This was worse than the time those damned centaurs decided to use her ass as a Quidditch quaffle! Thrashing and rolling in the oil, the red dress soaked and dragging her down, but a bony hip slammed against her and the bottle of lust potion in her pocket broke and mixed with the oil.

An echoing shattering heard through her own piggy squeals as the bottle of "Forever Wood" in Argus's pocket, met the same fate. Seeping out, mixing with the emotion lotion and the dragon oil, soon a dark pink frothed smoke roiled across the turmoil, engulfing the four that struggled against pain, fear, anger and despair.

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Any Potions Master could tell you, that dragon oil makes a prefect base for most sensation based potions, as such it should be used with care. It should NOT be doused with enhancement potions for building lust and for ensuring the male equipment stays as hard and rigid as blue steel, or a teenage boys natural wakeup erection. And if one were to encounter such a mixture it would be the wisest thing to stay away from said mixture, NOT to roll and frolic about in it like a pack of rabid dolphins.

It was hours later, when just one such Potions Master drew the short straw and was pushed through the door by a pack of traumatized deatheaters to see about putting a stop to the debauchery that had been crumbling the mortar from the walls. The wails and guttural shouts. The animal squeals and deep blood chilling grunts that had been battering the hardened Deatheaters through that closed door, had already sent several into a frenzy, apparating off to turn themselves in to the nearest Aurors. Others, like McNair and Narcissa Malfoy, were found days later, knitting doilies from their own hair while sobbing "Make it stop Please just...make It stop!"

Even through the protection of a bubblehead charm, Severus was alarmed, nay, sickened beyond his worst nightmares at what met his eyes.

There in a tub filled with bright pink bubbles, was the Dread Overlord of all that is Evil, wearing what was left of Umbridge's dress as a jaunty red bow wrapped about his bald head. Grunting in delight as Argus alternated in mauling Bellatrix's hips and thrusting hard into the wailing witch, and squat rolling on the buried length of snake cock that was busily reaming the squibs flabby bowels. Voldemort groaned as his tongue kept flickering in and out of Umbridge’s well used gash, her breasts painted with thin pink lipstick marks, the rest of the lipstick glowing on" He who should never WEAR pink’s narrow lips.

The room was demolished, soaked in pink frothed oil and the air thick with fumes even as the High Lords cock slurped out of the wretched squibs pimpled backside then fountained what seemed like galleons of noxious spunk into the air, adding another layer of filth and scum to the sludgy bathwater, and Delores was toppled back into the froth as the Snake Lord tried to rise from the polluted bath. Still hunching away at the warbling witch, Argus snorted, grunted, farted and came. The sheer pressure of the explosion shot the battered looking witch forward as if jet propelled, splashing and sinking under as Filch turned to Voldemort and leapt into his arms. The grappling that occurred had the Potions Master reeling, fighting to keep from blowing chunks while wearing the protective charm.

As the High Over Lord in pink wrapped his scaly form around the skinny gnarled old squib, Bellatrix staggered to her feet and fell across Umbridge. It was like watching a slow motion broom accident, too horrible to fathom, too disgusting to look away from and Severus Snape, the dreaded Potions Master, the man who single handedly gave nightmare fits to two generations of wizards and witches, finally found the strength to turn and flee as he heard Bellatrix purr at the heaving bowl of Umbridge that was squeaking and squealing as she was double fisted on the edge of the bath.

"The only good thing about you Umbridge, is you make everyone else look sexy. But Gods you taste like strawberries and cream"

Chased from the chamber of horrors by the slobbering slavering sounds, Snape slammed the door shut and began to ward it with every ward and charm he could think of, even making up a whole new list on the spot. Finally he canceled the charm that had given him some protection against the fumes, and leaned weakly against the wall.

Stunned and waiting in horrified expectation, the others stared at the ashen-faced Potions Master until he broke the silence.

"For all intensive purposes, Voldemort is dead, are we all agreed?"

At the sea of nods, he sighed and pushed away from the wall.

"Thats it then, party’s over, go home, obliviate yourselves and forget any of this ever happened.

As for myself, I think I may never be clean again."

Like a bad dream, the rooms cleared, witches and wizards apparating away, until there was only Severus left in the moldering old mansion. Even through the wards and spells, those...SOUNDS...filtered through, and without a look back, Severus Snape departed.... wanting to scrub his memory clean with abrasive potions to erase any and all he had seen.

~fini~

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