The Head Boy's Secretary

This should be a long chapter and this chapter has a lot of sex and some very disturbing activity. Unfortunately, it was very difficult to write.


Chapter Nineteen: Dark Adventures Underground


The Head Boy stood at the forefront of the quay, holding a lantern aloft with a flickering candle. In the other wiry, but youthful hand was a ring of keys. A couple of years ago somehow Ogg, the Gamekeeper was persuaded to give them away. Riddle made duplicates and subsequently, the old man’s memories were modified.

Alice was there, and twelve-year-old Alphard Black too. From the dock Hogwarts castle loomed in the background. Silvery light of a full moon created a ghostly transparency.

Riddle was evidently bemused. “Do you want to be buggered tonight, Miss Alice?”

The cheeks flushed red with shame. Daddy ripped her panties down for a particularly lengthy punishment for saying that word at eight years old. It imparted on Alice the strong desire to never use that word again. The memory of that spanking was still strong.

The phrase ‘buggered’ was a sexual innuendo, a dirty word for intercourse. Daddy had been right to correct his daughter. Good, chaste girls did not say that word, and neither was there ever a decent female who should be buggered!

How could the Head Boy, a model of perfect social behaviour be so impolite? If there was one thing good about her employer, it was that her boss was a paragon of appropriate moral behaviour.

So it was an outrage. “Master Riddle! I’d slap your face but reason tells me I’d be punished.”

Alphard sniggering away, suppressed outright laughter. Alice was to be buggered! He certainly knew what that entailed! He could not wait to see the Half-blood witch get what was coming to her.

Several figures stepped out of the boats and onto the dock. They were like black shadows of death, donning heavy robes. From afar, they looked like ancient sages.

In an impressive show of fealty, they bowed deep and impressionably. Alice strained on tiptoe to get a better look. But the moon clouded over just then, and only feeble starlight remained. They looked like Egyptian Demi-gods donning elaborate masks. One a head like a bird, it was a hook-billed raven. Alphard hurriedly put on his dog mask. Someone wore a rat-faced one, and there was even an owl.

“Gentlemen…Tonight we will be entertained. I have a grand spectacle planned for us.” These men had graduated Hogwarts within the last few years.

A hand grasped Alice possessively. Obliquely Riddle’s dark eyes scanned downward. “This is Alice Whitman. Miss Alice has shown strength of mind and so I made her my Secretary. However, as Secretary she merely performs the most menial of mental tasks, which are of course beneath me. Tonight she serves as just another whore!”

Alice was conducted by Riddle through the boathouse. She was furious at all this. She couldn’t even remember awakening tonight. She just found herself there at the dock, with Tom Riddle and that awful boy, Alphard Black.

Here she was lead to another secret chamber. The memory of first viewing that secret passage in the Restricted Section came to mind.

The back end of the boathouse had a hidden door that led off to a tunnel. The keys from Ogg the gamekeeper were utilized. The group went deep into the dark passage, Riddle’s lantern and their wands lit the path.

Alice’s breathing quickened. Distant, like the wailing of ghosts there was screams. She shook at the cold comprehension dawned on her. They were underneath the deepest bowels of the castle. This was rock bottom, the very foundation of Hogwarts. And above it, the dungeons. Several students were getting whipped in detention tonight.

They came to a large room finally and stopped. Alice realized she’d been foolish to think she’d be the only witch! There was at least three more females to meet them here, but all much older. These witches donned sparkling, silvery cloaks and were exceptional beauties.

Alice felt a surge of unworthiness. She bit her lip, and looked up at Master Riddle for instruction. The Secretary got paid no mind.

These witches were confident that their wiles, their coquettishness could seduce a wizard. Alice knew nothing of that. She was a teenager. And right now, she also had a pimple that only made Alice feel more inadequate. How would she measure up?

But one of those women sauntered up to Alice and took her under her wing. Alice had not yet discovered that they were high-end prostitutes, secretly handled by the wealthiest customers of Gringotts. “Hello. I thought the men would bring someone else. Come, we must get you ready in the anti-chamber.”

Alice was led off. Over her shoulder, she got one last glimpse of Master Riddle. Surrounded by henchmen, a dozen of them. Riddle stood before the men chatting gravely, sitting in seats like pews from church.

Not all of the Dark Order had been summoned to report. In the fold there was Abraxas Malfoy, looking more pretentious than ever. Augustus Rookwood, pleased to be present and regal-looking. Cygnus Black, still a student observed with a cold and calculating air. Then there was the recently graduated Rodolphus Lestrange with his brother, Rabastan. Orion Black had even come and Wilkes. Alphard was the youngest, twelve years and keen to show off.

In front, the gang leader waited for the noise to die down. For the voices to drop like they always did. How suddenly, all of them would look at him in fascination. For he was Lord Voldemort, and naturally his presence commanded this.

Several magical fires had been lit. It gave the air of a more sociable environment. It had been a stark austere room, but somehow these wealthy men made it seem like it was sculpted by galleons itself. The floor was tiled.

Alice heard some of the chatter from the anti-chamber. The men shouted for, “restoring the blood of our ancestors” and finishing whatever was started. Riddle gave a rousing speech replete with historical anecdotes of famous Goblin rebellions, muggle violence and how this would all be eradicated soon. In fact, a particular emphasis was placed on the former.

It was the voice of the leader who spoke with a deep timbre, “We will exterminate that vermin. Goblins have lived off of our greater powers for centuries. It has been too long, my friends. One day we will take back Gringotts. And all the while they have been breeding like cockroaches under a rock!”

The ladies trembled, as they too listened to the young man’s effusions.

“The Goblins,” murmured one woman. “I hope this man – doesn’t want to hurt us! I mean most of the hookers in the Wizarding World are Squibs.”

The woman who had changed out of robes and was strolling around in knickers and bra shook fearfully. Alice felt surprised that they weren't witches after all, just squibs that came from Pureblood families.“They’ll want nothing to do with us soon,” pouted the other forlornly.

“Nonsense,” spoke the bravest. “We are here to serve. And look at how nicely we did up our little one. Are you new? What Wizarding family raised you? Was your family kind despite that you’re a Squib, Alice?”

“I’m not,” said Alice dryly, feeling funny. They laughed and said there is no need to lie.

To prove herself, Alice slid her wand out, and they gasped. Before there could be any more questions though, something else happened.

Riddle was in the other room, standing over a tiny figure on the floor. It was the body of a long dead Goblin. Riddle was at the defining moment of his monologue. Tonight, he basked in catering to an audience. Oh, how he enjoyed this!

The voice echoed high and cold with calm deliberation. “We will exterminate this vermin!” And theatrically Riddle used his wand and threw the corpse across the room. Alice was reminded of the fear mongering that was so notorious of the fire and brimstone preachers.

Cheers faded but not for a long moment. After the noise faded into a low discussion of the ideas being propagated. He spoke of glory of the races and progeny that the Pureblood were. Alice heard some and sensed it wasn't entirely true. Another lie. She heard Riddle mention a "master race" and once again Alice was reminded that he'd been reading, "Mein Kempf."

These Pureblood wizards would not forget their Lord’s promise. When Lord Voldemort rose to power, the Goblins would be subjugated again.

Alice was powdered and pressed and given a new, much sexier outfit. A couple of the Wizard’s House-elfs had arrived on the scene and were used to dress the ladies. A house-elf painted Alice up in a lavender paint that lacquered every inch of skin but the face.

They were called in. Absurdly the elves used magic to contort Alice onto all fours. The four women strutted out of the anti-chamber sparkling in the lacquered paint. Alice didn’t even know what compelled them to move, it might have been Elf magic. For somehow, the whole lot of them trotted out with the elves holding them with a leash. Each lady was bridled, and had a collar. Alice hated looking like a dog to be walked, rump high in the air. She even had a tail. Multi-coloured ribbons protruded absurdly from the anus.

In the flickering firelight, surrounded by a group was Tom Riddle. Alice counted exactly twelve. Oddly, that was the number for Jesus' disciples, but these were Master Riddle's disciples. Beneath black robes they wore fancy gold brocaded waistcoats. It had been Malfoy’s idea. For Abraxas Malfoy was the world's richest Pureblood and naturally held the most influence at Gringott's.

Seated like on a throne, with his skull clasp gleaming reposed the master. And what was more ominous, he beheld a cane with a skull. A pimp cane, just for the occasion. Once again, to Alice's perspective the Head Boy was set apart. Like a holy figure. His teeth were bone-white as he grinned in lurid, scorching blinding light.

And the rest of them were so dark that Alice thought they must resemble dementors (having never seen a real one).

The others were gripping sacs of gold, silver bank notes and fat purses. Riddle sat back, expansively. The grin remained on his handsome face like a skull’s. Mostly his visage was concealed in a hood that shrouded him and gave the air of mystique. Wearing a hood was effective as an unknown quality that did well in spawning fear.

Riddle was almost acting as the pimp putting on a show. Alice was going to be auctioned off like an animal for labor.

“That one,” Riddle indicated Alice. “Is indeed my personal Secretary. Included was her promise to abide by whatever I tell her to. No part of Miss Alice is off limits tonight. Her tits, her pussy, her arse may be used exactly as whoever buys her so pleases.”

The men shifted excitedly, and gave a sidelong curious look at the youngest female, the only girl. They were curious and ravenous.

It was all a blur. Within moments the women were each auctioned off to their highest bidders. Alice was ashamed to be picked last at the lowest price.

The men had greedily clutched bank notes, waving fistfuls of money. Once done the winners gave their money to the master. Now it was time for Alice to be handed over.

It was to a tall man on the side who bore a pockmarked face, and very intelligent eyes.

“Come hither…” he said. Alice obeyed, but in her heart, did not want to.

Augustus Rookwood was being trained in the Department of Mysteries. A gifted Wizard who had recently graduated Hogwarts, he was one of Riddle’s most prized followers. In his hand he had something like Riddle’s pimp cane, as it was a stick but only a plain, wooden staff. And pinned on his robe's was a snake insignia. In fact, one was worn by all of the followers.

“Sit.” Gladly, Alice sat on Rookwood's knee.

The Dark Order member regarded her, looking into Alice’s gray eyes. He exhaled a whiff of blue smoke from a pipe. Evidently, some of the drugs the Dark Order provided tonight. “Who are you?”

There was something that made Alice silent. A dark secret, a curse inside. She coughed and sputtered on the smoke that billowed and descended into her chest. Even after they waited for the coughs to subside, Alice still couldn't answer.

“Why won’t she talk?” said Rookwood insouciantly. It was like he was curious to know, but didn’t care anyway.

Riddle came over and pondered this. There was the sensation that something huge had been lifted off. Like a heavy veil that made it hard to discern things. It had been an Imperius Curse, of which Riddle had created weeks ago to prevent dialogue with the disciples. Temporarily, it was lifted just for tonight.

“Thank-you, My Lord,” said Rookwood. Riddle departed to somewhere else. “Who are you?”

Alice still sitting on his lap, felt frightened. She still couldn't answer the question. But wasn’t it obvious? She was a student from Hogwarts, a Ravenclaw Fourth Year girl who’d been employed by Head Boy, Tom Riddle. “Er....who am I? I am the Head Boy’s Secretary, Sir.” Others overheard this, and laughed at the naivety, for the girl spoke as if she someone who should be regarded of in esteem.

“You know what I mean,” snapped Rookwood irritably. The Unspeakable grew emboldened, and frank. “Besides your gainful employment in my Lord's office duties. Clearly, you have experience at whoring?”

Alice’s eyes fluttered. “None! I-I have none, Sir.”

Rookwood frowned and realized the girl’s naivety. “Then you must be taught. And quickly. Get your hands on your pussy. Stroke those lips till I say you be done. Well? Get on it with it.”

Meanwhile, Rookwood fondled the pert, florentine breasts. He squeezed and pinched hard. But for some reason, Alice did not find it a bad pain. On the contrary, under the knickers, the clit expanded from its hood. The Cliterdectomy curse made it itch like mad. There was Alice's masturbation on Rookwood’s robes. Alice was raving with wicked desire. She felt the wizard’s member grow strong and hard underneath.

Head bowed, she laid against his chest and gave a long, submissive sigh. Alice gave herself up to pleasure, yielding to it. But because of the curse, nothing could fully satisfy the lust and longing.

But soon enough the cult leader made the prostitutes plus Alice line up for inspection. "Come little ponies," said Riddle, brandishing the skull pimp cane. Alice had a nasty feeling that there was more to that cane than met the eye.

Her body was near bursting with rabid desire. The curse's power grew worse and worse whilst under the gaze of wanton wizards. Alice was breathing excessively, and she continued stroking her pussy. This made Alice stand out, as all the other prostitutes were trained to obey, and they waited, standing still in position.

Bu Alice stroked and stroked her pelvis that ached with an unnatural throb. She watched the greedy eyes, the tongues emerge and the licking of lips. They were enjoying it, and so was she.

But like a dream, Riddle swooped down, and whispered, "I'm not paying you to touch yourself, am I?"

Alice jumped and went back into the position of all fours.

It was much worse watching something and waiting for your turn. Riddle made sure Alice got to watch first. He brandished an implement that came out of the cane. A whip.

Each of the Squibs were subdued in turn. Their bums were whipped until they burned bright red. Then each 'pony' was taken back to her master. Alice watched the men's eager unbuttoning of shirts and pants before the lady was taken.

Now it was Alice's turn. The whipping was held off. Riddle made sure to take his time. The ass cheeks were spread, and Riddle massaged them, and then slid long fingers inside her pussy.

The Curse burned worse than it had ever before.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Ahhh...," Alice squealed.

"I'll take that as a yes!"

"Poor little pony, just look at that gaping hole. But what will make it feel better?"

Something was different inside Alice. The Curse made the good, clean part of her character nonexistent. "COCK! Oh, fill me with your cocks! Please good Sirs! I need cock! Now!"

The men laughed along with Riddle. They continued to tease, but not one man stepped forward to take her.

Riddle spoke slowly, "You want to come in front of all these people - my followers, my honored servants. They have watched you being used, fingered, tortured and whipped. You don't have much shame do you, Alice?"

"Master - I-I." In this moment, Alice knew the truth. She was a sinner. Like her mother Evelyn, the disobedient wife and she was a descendant of Eve. "Yes. Men are my Masters. I need cock to fulfill me."

Insanely, Alice heard Riddle laugh. Alice could feeling Riddle standing behind her. He tilted his head back and laughed manically. "SLUT! This witch whom I chose to employ was a whore all along, I tell you!"

All around the sounds of male cajoling and jeering joined with their gang leader's mirth.

There was more swats with the whip. The Head Boy winked at Alice when she stole a glance upwards. He patted her sore behind with the handle of the whip.

It was exactly what Riddle was getting to. It was a means to get back at Alice. To do so, he'd just proved what a slut she could be. A slut just like all women, just Alice's mother and just like Voldemort's mother, Merope Gaunt.

And now Alice was ashamed. The circus slut underneath the surface was set free. Was this the way it was naturally for all women? Alice pondered. But fiercely, defiantly recalled. No! It was that curse that made me into a whore. I am not a dirty-minded, sinful woman.

Rookwood took the girl back. He was a good deal kinder than the Head Boy. He had no reason to hate Miss Alice.

Another wizard joined in and crooned, "Here, little pony..."

Alice was told to wriggle her hips. She gyrated, eager for someone to fill her with their seed. The new man named Lestrange ran a hand up and down Alice's thigh.

"Bend over more...That's it. Now wiggle that cute little arse, pony!"

Alice assented, she was in desperate need of more pleasure. The physical contact might finally soothe the searing itch of the curse.

Something slid into Alice's hole, but it wasn't cock. Inside the bright red bum, Lestrange inserted a dildo into that tight little ring.

At the tip was a butt plug, and at the other end horsehair. Once it protruded from the cheeks, Alice was like a pony again. Seated on all fours with a tail popping out the rear .

It was invasive agony, and yet the explosion of pain was wonderful in alleviating the curse. For the dildo accommodated well, since Riddle had used her from behind several times beforehand. The rump contracted madly and Alice enthusiastically grinded with the tide. She was teetering on the edge of madness.

Amid the cackling flames of agony, came more. Lestrange had started the Cruciatus Curse. Alice screamed so, and for awhile lost all sense of where she was. She twisted in agony and heard voices of men, she could not place.

Alice's hole grew distended. The chill smoothness of the dildo could not quench a man's avid lust. Soon Alice was getting used in two holes at once.

The horrid boy came along! Alphard boyishly smiled, his face the youngest. She found herself pinned down, hands arrested behind the back as he proceeded to kiss her to death. His breath was rank with alcohol and drugs.

Then he put his member inside, and at the same time as she serviced oral sex for the Black boy, Rookwood took advantage of Lestrange's absence. Lestrange had went onto other pleasures with the Squibs.

Alice's gray eyes screwed up. Impossibly full, wasted on cock it was difficult to stay in touch with reality.


NOTE: This chapter is not yet finished. I am sorry that I haven't updated recently.