Chapter 3: The Back Office

"So, this is it!" George screamed over the loud beat as they entered a dimly lit room with witches and wizards socializing inaudibly. It was quite appealing in a way, there was a large dance floor, a cushioned corner or two with oversized seating and a massive bar attended to by six or seven barmaids.

"YEAH!" Fred screamed towards his brother, "THIS IS THE PLACE!" He knew he would have a sore throat in the morning. George nodded; it seems the trio was lost within the crowd.

"FRED! IS THAT YOU!" Cried a familiar voice of the woman he had met earlier that day, or quite literal yesterday considering it was almost two in the morning. Fred, George as well were slightly surprised to run into her yet again, but they did have to take into account how every one seemed to be flocking to this place. Fred nodded, not wanting to waste his breath on something as trivial as his name.

"IT'S REALLY LOUD! WANT TO COME BACK INTO MY OFFICE?" She cried coming closer, George had run off to the bar, smelling some vodka that suited him perfectly. Fred looking around to see that his twin had deserted him for a beverage didn't hesitate as she grabbed his arm with her cold palms.

She led him to a door, opening with a key in her free hand. Not a minute to spare she closed the door, just as he had made his way inside. The room must have been sound proof, now all that remained were the steady vibrations from the noise. "Office?" Fred inquired with a confused look.

Sara smiled, and bit her lip mischievously, avoiding Fred's eye, "Well obviously it would make sense the owner have her own office…" She trailed off looking back towards Fred studying him curiously for a reaction.

"Owner?" He asked rhetorically sounding impressed, after all, it was quite an accomplishment that during the up rise of the dark lord she managed to get others to flock to a club, at night, in a forbidding place such as Knockturn.

"Yes," she replied quickly as the door behind him locked, and the jagged windows drawn. Fred looked reasonably nervous as one should in such a situation. "You like me," she said as if stating a fact, pulling off her leather trench to reveal the nothingness that nudity entailed, letting her jet black locks sit upon her well formed breasts.

Fred's eyes widened, completely unnerved by Sara's actions toward him. "Take off your clothes and come play with me," she replied in a commanding voice, pushing herself onto a cherry desk that sat in the middle of the room.

A million thoughts rushed through his mind, Angelina, George, but it didn't stop him from crisply undressing to the girls command. The clothing ran limply to the floor and he willingly stepped upon the quite expensive dragon hide jacket, already he had begun to become hard, he lusted for her like he had no other, however he hardly knew her.

She lured him closer with an elongated finger, beyond pale, even in the low lights. She stroked the inside of her nude cunt, her eyes locked onto his. "You know what to do," she said with such a childlike innocence to her tone he received a shiver down his spine. He smiled, true he wasn't entirely new to this, but seeing her so foreword in her actions, he guessed she had far more experience, in this he was mistaken.

He slid it in with discomfort, it was tight as though it had been untouched, Sara squinted her eyes and bit her lip fearsomely, as though she was in a lot of pain, though she replied still, "Faster." Surprise, surprise, he obey, she could scream, her hymen was breaking, throbbing and her cunt was being stretched out, but this lasted for a moment. As his pace began to increase, her pain mounted into pleasure, pulling him closer, digging into his back to hold him near.

He knew it was wrong but he just wanted to be close to her, his skin against hers, he leaned in, grabbing her hair, pulling her lustful lips towards his, biting her lip, dripping with blood from the pressure she put onto it as he had entered her. It was rich, and his tongue entered hers, he didn't want to separate from her. He began to subconsciously thrust harder, building up friction, making her break away, she began to pant, no… to scream, but as much as it pained him to have his lips leave hers he had no desire to stop.

Fred could tell with ease he was ready to climax, something told him to wait, but another more predominant instinct told him not to hesitate, he did not. Six jets of cum released themselves from his still hard cock into Sara's cunt, the end was very near, he could feel the beginnings of it becoming limpid already. He gathered his thoughts, he shouldn't be here, he shouldn't of done this, he left her, grabbing his boxers and pants, pulling on his shirt and jacket, he wanted her, and it sickened him. How could he have done such a thing.

"Sara, unlock the door," he said in a dry cold voice as she with a confused expression fashioned the trench back on her waist. She looked at him with distain but he dared not look her in the eye.

"Please, don't leave just yet," she pleaded begging for his hands with hers. He couldn't help it, besides, he had to play by her rules if he wanted to leave, at least that was an excuse to divulge in his desires. His fingers laced with hers.

A knock on the door, almost commanding entrance, it was probably George, he guessed this place hadn't taken to him like he thought it might.