In search of Sophie 6

#Abuse #Rape #Teen 1 min ago

19949 words | 0 |0.00

By Edward Pembroke Sophie Yildiz is a young girl navigating school and adolescence when she attracts the attention of a dangerous pervert

Chapter 29
It was another glorious Sunday morning as Teresa and Jenny walked along the beach at Rosevale-on-Sea. The sun was shining, the waves were gentle, and the locals were out enjoying the day. But for Teresa and Jenny, the beauty of the place only deepened their sense of loss. They didn’t know what they might find, but they wandered along the roads and beaches, searching for any clue that could explain why Sophie had been here and what might have happened to her.

They gave one brief interview to a local reporter, but the rest of the time they spent alone, just the two of them, sharing the silence that had settled between them since Sophie’s disappearance. As they walked past the happy families laughing in the surf and couples strolling through the picturesque village, they felt the weight of their own grief pressing down on them.

“Oh, Jenny,” Teresa said, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. This is such a beautiful place. At least Sophie got to see it.”

“Don’t give up, Mum,” Jenny replied, her words filled with both determination and sorrow. “There’s got to be a reason she was here. I just wish I could’ve been there for her. Maybe things would be different.”

Mother and daughter held hands as they slowly made their way back to the station after another day of fruitless searching. The police divers continued their efforts, but after ten days, there was still no sign of Sophie. The hope that she might be found alive had faded, and even the grim possibility of recovering her body seemed unlikely now. The sea, vast and uncaring, had likely claimed her forever.

Teresa and Jenny knew that the search was nearing its end. They had come to Rosevale-on-Sea hoping for answers, but all they had found was more heartache. As they stood on the platform, waiting for the train that would take them back to a home that no longer felt whole, they clung to each other, the only source of comfort they had left.

A few hours away from Rosevale-on-Sea, Edward Pembroke wheeled his mother out of church, engaging in light-hearted conversation with the other churchgoers. As they exited, Mabel—the vibrant young woman he had chatted with last week—greeted him with a bright smile. She wore a denim skirt and a T-shirt, which highlighted her long, athletic legs and trim figure.

As he smiled back at Mabel, his thoughts drifted to Sophie. Sophie had once been as joyful and full of life as Mabel, but that vitality was now gone. The past ten days had stripped her of the verve and shine she once exuded. The violence and uncertainty had left her face marred and her spirit vacant.

As he bathed in Mabel’s youthful happiness, he regretted that he would never experience it with Sophie, he could have her body but he could never resurrect the carefree spirit and joy that he found so attractive in young girls. ‘You can’t have everything’ he smiled sadly as he watched Mabel walk away, his eyes lingering dangerously long on her ass.

The rest of Sunday was spent in the basement. Sophie was called to try out the saw horse. She felt so exposed, even while still in her cheerleader outfit, as she was bent over the horse, her rump in the air, as she was strapped in. She wriggled her wrists and ankles but could barely move.

“Impressive craftsmanship,” Pembroke noted with a clinical edge, his fingers tracing the cold steel and varnished wood of the contraption. Then, without missing a beat, his touch slid over her skin with the same detached interest. To him, it seemed, there was no difference between a lifeless structure and the living, breathing person bound to it.

He played idly with the folds of her skirt, which in her bent over position, barely covered her cheeks. “I think next time, there will be less covering here” he chuckled.

He moved on to bring down an Ikea bed, and assembled it in front of Sophie while she went through exercises and poses. Sophie was sweating not just from exertion, why was a bed being built? It felt like the countdown to the inevitable.

The bed took a lot quicker and Pembroke tested how easily it could be folded before bringing down a mattress. Sophie was by now in the naru position, watching.

“Good, it’s starting to be more homely in here, isn’t it!”

Pembroke was sweating and Sophie was repulsed by his smell as he wordlessly brought her into the cell. “Now, I enjoyed her kisses yesterday. It felt amazing! But I do want you to be a bit fresher, so I have this for you.”

He pulled out a simple plastic toothbrush and toothpaste. He had arranged it with avoiding self-harm in mind. “Now, let me show you how to use it.”

“Sir, I know how to…”

“Don’t answer back, Sophie. Do as I say, ALWAYS!”

Sophie remained silent as he led her to the sink, slipping one hand around her waist while the other picked up the toothbrush in front of her. “Open wide,” he said, and she complied, letting him brush her teeth like a child being tended by her father. “Stick your tongue out,” he instructed, and she obeyed, feeling the brush’s bristles against her tongue.The sense of submission felt humiliating but strangely comforting given how gentle he was.

“Now turn around.” Sophie turned around and faced his chest, not daring to look up.

“Let’s taste you now.” He gently tipped her head up and kissed her, long and passionately, his tongue passing around her mouth and tracing each tooth.

Sophie tried to breathe through her mouth to avoid the pungent scent of sweat from Pembroke, but now she was breathing right from his own throat. As his tongue found its way down almost to her windpipe, she dared to try and push back, but he only pulled her tighter.

Finally, he relented. “Gosh, Sophie I will never get bored of this!”

He locked her in the cell gathered up the tools and cleaned off the sawdust and other rubbish from his projects.

“OK Sophie, now I will get you to clean down here, here you go, and this time you can go behind the curtain and lean there too! Don’t be too nosy though I will be watching!”

Pembroke kept a lazy on her cleaning downstairs while checking in on his mother. He came back down and was pleased that it smelled nice. “Good, now Sophie may I ask, is your period over?”

Sophie’s face burned. Not only was this a humiliating question to answer, she knew there was a good chance her period was the only thing stopping him from raping her yet. “I … I think it’s gone…”

“Excellent! Well, let’s change your clothes shall we, that cheerleader outfit is cute but must be smelling by now.”

Pembroke came over with a towel and two pieces of clothing. He pointed to Sophie to usher her into her cell. “Strip.” Sophie was little surprised by the direct command, and undressed, and handed her clothes through the little space for him. “Now, you will note the clothes here are a little … more daring … a little smaller.”

Pembroke had given her a red thong and bra. It was her skimpiest clothes yet. She was currently naked but wrapped in the towel. They were still playing a game where she would be naked in front of him and have to change, but there was still a pretense of modesty, and wearing a tiny thong in front of him, especially when doing the positions or being on top of the saw horse, would expose her so much more than in her previous knickers.

“Oh and there is something else. In addition to brushing your teeth, you will need this too.”

He passed her a small safety razor. Sophie swallowed, if he had insisted on brushing her teeth for her, what was he going to do now…

“Now, I am sure you know how to use this, and where to use it. I love your hair color Sophie, but it’s for your head, not between your legs. Do I have to do what I did with the toothbrush or can I trust you to remove that thatch yourself?”

She squirmed and nodded, then accepted the razor “Good, now I am so happy you are not a hairy girl, but from now on, you must keep it that way. I am going to make a brief inspection of you afterward. I expect you to be as smooth as a baby everywhere from the neck down, understand?”

He went to his laptop and opened up a video that played on the screen. Sophie averted her eyes, it was extremely explicit, it was of a young woman shaving herself, showing her using the razor everywhere, on top of her pubis, along her lips, and reaching lying on her back, spreading her legs, and pulling her legs up so that she was as exposed as for a gynecologist exam, then shaving all around her anus and vagina.

Sophie had only ever watched such close-ups before when she had been paranoid about her own lady bits and wanted to compare them. The explicit genitalia made her blanche.

“Now Sophie, don’t be squeamish. I want you clean and smooth just like in the video. I will be down soon, so get to it!”

The warm water coursed around Sophie as she looked at her red pubic hair as it got wet. She had done this before, she used the razor, each stroke removing a line of ginger hair. She felt oddly vulnerable as she carefully slid the blade across the skin surrounding her intimate folds, exposing the smooth, bald surface beneath.

As she finished, she ran her hand over the freshly shaved area, checking for any missed spots. The smoothness was satisfying, but it also felt like a layer of protection had been stripped away. A slight blush crept across her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and relief.

Now she moved to the more difficult part. She got on all fours, and ran her finger over her asshole and the surrounding area. She could not feel much, but knew there might be hair there. She shaved down the sides of the steep valley between her cheeks, along her contours, cleaning the razor after every few swipes, and eventually satisfied herself she was as smooth there as an eel. Afterward, she dried herself off with a towel, then ran her hands gently over her body, checking for any stray hairs that might have been missed. She relied on the touch of her fingertips, and despite her circumstances, she was still too embarrassed to bend herself into position to look at her own genitalia, especially knowing that ‘he’ would be watching.

After finishing the rest of her body, she looked at the underwear. She ran the threadbare lingerie through her fingers, the thin string of the thong sliding through like a fine wire. The small triangle of fabric seemed ridiculously small, and she fiddled with it, wondering just how much it would cover. She recalled wearing her sister’s thong, and of course, how could she forget, those photos of her flaunting herself in that slutty way had helped put her in here.

Pembroke smiled at how awkward she seemed playing with the thong, running her fingers underneath it and letting it snap back into her flesh. He came back down.

“Now Sophie, let’s have a look at you. I just want to check you can do this yourself. Raise your arms!”

Sophie did so and he examined her underarms. “Good, not lie on the ground, legs facing me, and kick your legs up over your head.”

She complied, again steeling herself for whatever he would do next. He came into the cell, admiring the sinews of the backs of her thighs as they faced up at him. He reached down, and ran his finger under the thong, over her smooth mons, along her lips, and over the wrinkled star of her anus.

Sophie felt like time stood still as he touched her in the most intimate way possible. But he left her and stood up as soon as he had satisfied himself that she was hairless down there.

“Excellent. Good girl. Now I will let you enjoy your book now, in your sexy lingerie, and I will be back later and we will have some more fun tonight…”

Sophie watched him leave. She looked down at her new clothes, her bare cheeks were now fully meshed against the cushioned material of the bench. The tightness against her crotch stimulated her, and as she tried to read, she could not escape the overarching feeling of being a sex object.

Pembroke took another walk, breathing in the evening air. He bought some wine and strolled home wondering how to pass the night. His mind was distracted and then made up by the sight of a group of women walking out of a pub, tottering in their heels after having an all-day Sunday brunch, no doubt.

He perved over their bare legs and cleavage, imagining what it would be like to take one of them home for sex. Memories of being rejected came back to him, and his mind then wandered to more indictive thoughts against women.

He had a full bottle of wine while eating with his mother and watching TV. Feeling tipsy, he made his way downstairs to Sophie with another bottle of wine.

“Hello Sophie, my, I thought you were naked for a moment! Less and less clothes, hehe” he sniggered in her direction.

He let her out of the cell, she did not know what to do so meekly walked out into the center of the basement and stood there.

“Now Sophie, I know all about you. I think you should know a little about me. Not the boring stuff, I mean the stuff I don’t tell anyone about. The stuff that would get me locked up if anyone found out about it haha.”

Sophie did not want to know but reasoned she should try and find any useful information to escape. The alcohol on his breath made her both weary and hopeful.

He opened his laptop and sat at the worktop behind the curtain, planting the bottle of wine beside him. He opened his laptop, and motioned for Sophie to sit on his lap.

Sophie nervously planted herself on his thigh, he was in his dressing gown again, and his thigh was bare. She felt his body heat and then his hand around her stomach.

“Quick rule for me now, I can touch you where there is bare skin, I won’t touch where you are protected by clothes, that’s fair right?” He giggled as he traced his fingers around the inside of her thighs along the edge of the fabric of her thong.

His hands felt like giant claws pawing at her roughly but he was as good as his word, so far. They strayed perilously close to her hidden regions but did not stray in. Even so, the touching did not stop, she tried to imagine anything other than this, could she mentally survive this with her imagination?

“Now Sophie, a rule for you too. You don’t touch my laptop, any button, unless I let you. If you try to, you’ll fail, and I will beat you, OK. I will beat you so hard, you will be begging to go into the sack.” He growled this into her ear. She believed him.

He reached over and took a swig from the new bottle of wine, he did not offer any to Sophie.

“Look at this website Sophie, this is the dark web. This is a place everyone is scared of, but I love it here, it’s my home!”

Pembroke clicked through some sites, Sophie felt his breath against her back, his fingers idly plucking her waist, trying to find what little fat she had.

“Look at this girl, Simone Garucci, from New Jersey, USA. Do you think she would have anything to do with me?”

Sophie looked at the smiling face of a girl in yoga pants, a vest and braces on her teeth. She seemed perfectly normal.

“No, sir she is American.”

“OK Sophie” he seemed a little drunk, unstable now. “There is something, I have decided, don’t call me sir anymore. I mean I like the title but I get called it every day at school and maybe one day I’’ll get confused. God, I might think one of them is my slave one day and try and spank them or something haha”

Sophie thought of how ‘hilarious’ it was that he would have to behave and hide his nature in the real world, but down here it didn’t matter, she was a thing he could tear to pieces at any moment.

“Call me Daddy. Seriously, call me Daddy. If you don’t, you get punished, OK?”

“Yes … daddy”

“Haha, yes I mean let’s face it Sophie you didn’t have a real daddy out there, so you might as well have a real daddy down here now that you are missing so much else. Say bye bye to mummy, hello to daddy haha”

Sophie clenched her mouth shut. Thoughts of escape, and revenge filled her mind. Pembroke did not see her stony expression, he was only focused on her body as he nuzzled against her hair.

“Yes, I am your daddy. Call me daddy every day OK from now on. Always remember I am your daddy.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Anyway, back to Simone. You see Sophie I am this respectable teacher in real life but when I’m by myself I get really horny. And what I really like to do is, well I get off on ruining the lives of girls like Simone.”

Sophie squeaked as he squeezed on her thigh and upper arm with each hand, in excitement.

“I did to her what I did to you. I used Luke, what a fucking legend haha. Yeah I got her to download something, I hacked into her laptop, and I got her information and some more stuff … lets see…”

Suddenly a new set of photos came up. They featured Simone naked, still smiling, but showing off her pussy, ass, and tits for the camera in a series of selfies.

“What happened to her?”

“You forgot to say DADDY” he pinched her sides and she squealed.

“Sorry, daddy. What happened to her daddy?”

Pembroke seemed to revel in his element as he showed Sophie the website he frequented most. The screen displayed lists of girls’ profiles, each resembling a Facebook profile in structure. However, instead of friendly photos, interests, or details curated by the girls themselves, these profiles were compiled by toxic incels, exposing explicit photos and videos. Along with these inappropriate images, the profiles included personal information about their friends, families, workplaces, and colleges.

Sophie could see how this invasion of privacy could be devastating for the girls featured, with their most intimate details spread far and wide.

“You see Sophie, it gets me so hard when I see these girls get put up, and then there is nothing they can do to take it down. And it follows them around forever, look. Read.”

The next profile was dated from 2009. Comments underneath were dated up to 2013. They all boasted of how they recently shared her again, with updates about the girl, where they lived, how they had lost their job, and had been called a whore in the street.

“I cannot describe it, I know it’s evil, but it’s just … how I can so easily fuck their lives up forever, humiliate them, all with the click of a mouse, with no effort or inconvenience to me, it just turns me on. Gets my cock so fucking hard.”

On the last word, he grunted and she felt his penis sticking into her side. She tried to compose herself, if he decided to rape her, he would. Unless she could think of a way to escape or kill him, he would let him go ahead and just get through it.

“Yeah so Simone’s life was ruined, those photos will follow her around forever. Hey, I also like taking secret camera footage, let me show you some things.”

She remained perched on his lap, watching the screen switch to videos he had taken while following women on the street. The content was disturbing, revealing clips of him secretly recording women in public places, showing scenes from under their skirts on escalators and on trains. The footage was invasive, capturing moments when the women had no idea they were being filmed.

One video showed schoolgirls in a classroom with the camera pointed up their skirts near the desks as they studied.

“That was risky, that’s my school”

Sophie looked at the uniforms, they were blue, generic. Nothing that could give her any clues, as to where she was now. What could she do with it?

“And now Sophie let’s have a look at you! There have been some posts about you, I mean you are underage so a lot of sites have to take you down, but there are still some sites where even your mum can’t get them to take it down, no matter how much she complains to the police.”

A new site showed the profile of Sophie Yildiz. Sophie saw the same photos and the same video. This really would haunt her forever. “Read the comments, read them out loud.”

Sophie read the comments in a halting voice, they were awful.

“OMG … look at that cute slut, hope this finds its way to all her friends, and this bitch becomes famous.”

“Sophie Yildiz from London, say hello to the first day of the rest of your life. Jajajaja imagine how young this girl is she is going to have to spend the rest of her life dealing with this, so funny, she is so fucked.”

Sophie continued, trying to contain her anger with a neutral cool voice.

“This girl killed herself, I saw her mum on the news. Fucking waste of a good slut, she should have just become a whore not deprived us men of her holes”

“Man, I feel bad, but she is so hot, I hope her family keeps getting sent these though lol”

“Ha imagine dying and this is all anyone remembers of you RIP slag”

“Hope the family have to keep looking at these for years, Im gonna keep sending them to her mum, bitches need to learn there is no way out, even with death”

“I’d love to rape that cunt, pity she’s dead, hopefully, she got raped before she died.”

She finally broke, how could men be so cruel? The hard cock pressing into her told her that her captor had no soul, how could any human being with a conscience write like this online or find it anything but disgusting?

“Please sir…”

Pembroke yanked her hair down and glowered at her.

“Daddy, it’s daddy, remember”

“Please … daddy, this is horrible I will be nice to you, please just … please promise me you won’t hurt me or hurt my family.”

She had no doubt this evil man would hurt her family, out of sheer sociopathic curiosity if nothing else.

“OK, well be a good little girl then, and kiss your daddy.”

The angry, wrinkled face loomed large, right in her face. She closed her eyes, licked her lips, and opened her mouth. He attacked her, his tongue launching itself into her like a dart. His hands rubbed her all over her except her private parts, his nails digging into her as he scraped her skin. She grew intoxicated by this, and her head spun.

He picked her up and rearranged her so she was sitting astride him on his lap, his hard cock bursting out of his underpants and digging into her pussy, even with two sets of material in the way they could feel each other’s sex.

“Uuugh, not tonight.” He suddenly stopped and got up. He drained the last of the wine grabbed his laptop and saluted Sophie.

“You are so beautiful. I hope you don’t mind what a disgusting evil pervert I am, but I’m off to bed. Lock yourself into your cell.”

With that, he stumbled through the cage and the main door, then disappeared to whatever there was out there.

Sophie was relieved to see him go, but another feeling quickly replaced the horror of what she’d just endured—excitement. She had seen the codes he entered in both consoles. Days earlier, she had noted the code for the cage, and now she saw the code for the main door. His drunkenness, combined with the fact that she was no longer confined to her cell, presented a rare opportunity to escape.

Her mind raced with the possibilities. She had a chance to get out, but what if he was watching her? His drunkenness suggested he might soon fall asleep, especially if it was indeed nighttime as he mentioned. Yet there was also the possibility that he could check the cameras one last time before bed. She needed to be cautious.

Unbeknownst to her, Pembroke was already snoring in his bed. Sophie stood in the center of the basement, her willowy frame trembling in just her bra and thong as she hesitated. At any moment, she expected a voice from the intercom ordering her back to her cell, perhaps accompanied by a beating or worse.

Returning to her cell without closing the door, she sat still. She began counting to a thousand, trying not to get her hopes up in case of any interruptions and reasoning that Pembroke would be checking. Finally, she tiptoed to the cage doors. Pembroke had been lax, disabling the fingerprint scanner due to its unreliability. She knew the first code was a five-digit number starting with ‘6080-’, so she tried every variation of the last number. When she entered ‘60804’, the door clicked open. She quickly moved through the inner door, careful to leave the cage door ajar to avoid being trapped.

Her heart raced as she tried the second code, ‘52531’, and heard another reassuring click. It worked! She could hardly believe it—it had been almost too easy. But she knew she couldn’t afford to wait or get complacent; she needed to move quickly and get out before Pembroke noticed her absence.

With the doors unlocked, she took a deep breath and moved stealthily into the unknown, seeing an empty space leading to a stairway that climbed into darkness. She moved up those stairs, knowing that each step brought her closer to freedom and further from the nightmare she’d been enduring. She was careful not to make any noise, listening for any creaking sound.

She looked down and saw the light coming in from the basement—the doors were open. She could go back, but she had to try this; she had to get out of here. The thought of freedom suddenly made her situation even more intolerable, and she dared to think she might get outside and home.

At the top of the stairs, she found another door, with a narrow gap at the edge through which she could glimpse a hallway. It looked like a regular house, with ordinary decorations and familiar furniture, a stark contrast to the basement’s oppressive atmosphere. It seemed deceptively normal, but it also meant that her escape was within reach.

Sophie allowed herself a moment to breathe, just this glimpse of the outside world, after what seemed like a month of hell underground, was a tonic in itself. She peered through the gap, weighing her next move. She was so close to freedom If she made it through this door without attracting attention, she might find a way out of the house—and away from this man’s control.

She listened carefully; the sound of snoring filled the house, indicating he was asleep. While it reassured her that he was unaware of her escape, it also made her cautious about making any noise. She felt around for a door handle but instead found a strange twist mechanism. It was stiff and barely budged. She realized it needed to be pulled, twisted, and pushed in again—a sequence that demanded more strength than she had.

Thinking that there must be an easier way, she grew frustrated. She cursed herself for not being better with technical things at school, and her weak arms for not having the strength to open a simple door. Unbeknownst to Sophie, Pembroke had deliberately designed this door’s handle to be ‘girl-proof,’ requiring the strength of a large adult male to open. It was an added security measure, exploiting the physical weakness of most women.

She felt the handle give slightly and kept working at it, but it was unyielding. Every so often, she paused to listen to the snoring, hoping it would continue uninterrupted. Despite her efforts, the door wouldn’t open, and she considered pounding on it and calling for help. However, that would surely wake him up, and there was no guarantee anyone else was around to save her.

Realizing the danger of making noise, Sophie carefully released the handle and stepped back, her mind racing with thoughts of alternative escape routes. She couldn’t afford to wake him, yet she needed to find a way out. She knew she had to keep trying if she wanted to escape this nightmare.

The time dragged on as Sophie stared through the narrow gap into the homely hallway, yearning to be on the other side of the door where she might finally be free. She felt despair creeping in; she couldn’t open the handle no matter how hard she tried. Should she call for help? Should she bang on the door or try to kick it down? Each option felt risky, and the thought of waking Pembroke sent chills through her spine.

She listened for the familiar sound of snoring, then gently nudged the door. Even the slightest pressure created an unsettling noise that seemed to echo through the house. She was terrified it would wake him up. She tried again, a bit harder, but it produced an even louder noise. Instinctively, she cupped her mouth in fear as the snoring paused. Her heart stopped for a moment, but then the faint snoring resumed, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Her despair deepened—she couldn’t afford to hit the door any harder without making more noise, but she couldn’t open the handle either. Tears welled up in her eyes as the realization sank in: she had to give up and return to the basement, hoping Pembroke wouldn’t find out about her escape attempt.

The crushing reality of the situation was clear: she had to retreat and pray for another opportunity, or for a miracle. With tears streaming down her face, she carefully made her way back to the basement, her heart heavy with the thought of what might happen if he discovered her attempt to escape.

She closed the main door and basement door, and went back to her cell, this time she locked it behind her.

She then cried louder and harder than she had ever done in her life.

Chapter 30
Pembroke awoke with a splitting headache. Rarely had he drank so much in recent years. He remembered boasting to Sophie about his voyeurism, about the revenge porn posted of her, oh God…

Suddenly, he panicked. Where was she? He ran downstairs and saw that the door to the ‘broom cupboard’ was still shut. Somewhat relieved, he found his laptop and checked that Sophie was still in her cell. She was in a foetal position still in red thong and bra. She looked very upset. He remembered snogging her, but was confident had had not gone too far … yet.

He checked his history, what a fool he had been. She could have taken advantage of him and sent a message out on the internet somehow. His head was still buzzing as he brought her breakfast.

“So sorry about last night Sophie. I suppose you already know that I am a monster but last night I confirmed it. I do enjoy hurting people sometimes, I just can’t help it. I will try and be good with you, if you obey me, I promise. But I can’t guarantee anything.”

“Yes sir” she mumbled.

Through the fog of his hangover, Pembroke remembered one detail from last night.

“Its daddy, you call me daddy from now on. Remember, I only promise not to hurt you if you obey me.”

“Yes … daddy.”

Pembroke decided to have a shower in the area just in front of her cell. Sophie had to eat while having the sight of him, naked, washing himself. Other than beautiful slim girls he had shown her on videos and pictures, he was the only human being she had seen for ten days. His penis was limp but still thick. She struggled to find any attractive points to his body.

Elsewhere the police were drawing a blank. While some officers were focusing on the phone elements, Detective Gerald Murphy was more interested in Rodney Jackson, who had claimed to have offered Sophie a lift, and was the only person who had spoken with her after she got off the train. He had seemed evasive about which road he had taken, and the police were still not sure. But what also made Murphy suspicious was that Jackson was a convicted sex offender, found guilty of sexual assault some years previously.

Jackson himself was nervous, on that morning he had been coming home early, while his wife had gone out to work, so that he could meet his girlfriend, Selina. Jackson was 29, and Selina was just 15 and a schoolgirl who had bunked off school. Jackson had excitedly told his wife about Sophie before realizing how suspicious it was that he had been driving there at that time. He had manufactured a tale about forgetting his work tools. Murphy understood the wife’s suspicions after he interviewed him.

Nervous, Rodney Jackson told Seline that they could not see each other anymore, and in a fury she spread an online rumour that he was a sexual predator. Things went from bad to worse for Rodney when the Police investigated and took away his computer and found child porn. Rodney was arrested with suspicion of Sophie’s disappearance. He could not give an alibi for the rest of the day, not wanting to admit he had been having sex with a different girl, who was only 15.

Pembroke got a call about taking an IT job in London which would pay 750 pounds a day in view of his great experience. He had spent thousands on Sophie’s disappearance and needed to make up for it with some work before teaching began again. It was important to have a rainy day fund.

Pembroke spent the rest of the day swimming and walking trying to work off his hangover. He sat in a cafe, reading the papers, admiring the waitresses. He felt sad that he would go to his grave never having had the real love and affection of a girl, he thought.

At home, he attended to his mother, and then brought out Sophie’s school uniform. It had been cleaned but still bore the marks of the kidnaping, with some scratches and holes. Going down to the basement, he said hello to Sophie.

“Hello … er … daddy””

“Good girl, how is your book.”

“Its good I like it.”

“Here, a change of clothes, its your school uniform, with some nice white knickers and socks, I want you to shower, brush your teeth, shave, and be dressed in your uniform. I will be sitting here working.”

Sophie was somewhat grateful to change out of her dirty thong and showered again, shaving away the slight stubble everywhere. It was with some nostalgia that she put her uniform on again. She could remember leaving her bedroom like this for the last time. After brushing, she sat and waited for Pembroke to emerge.

He had been on his laptop, his eyes fixated on videos and pictures of Sophie. When he finally emerged from his den, he connected his laptop to the larger screen, projecting a disturbing collage of videos featuring Sophie. The compilation included a video of her masturbating, another of her dancing to K-pop, and various scenes from the dungeon. Without saying a word, Pembroke left and headed upstairs, leaving Sophie to watch the unsettling footage. She squirmed uncomfortably as the videos played, the intimacy and invasion of privacy unnerving her.

Pembroke showered, brushed his teeth, and changed into fresh clothing before returning downstairs. Sophie shuddered in revulsion as he approached the cell wearing nothing but another thong. The sight made her skin crawl. She tried to prepare herself mentally, to detach and disassociate from whatever might happen next.

“Hello Sophie, you look marvelous, are you thinking of all the happy memories of when you wore that uniform? I want to see that cheerful schoolgirl spirit now.”

Pembroke opened the cell door and gestured her out. In the outside world, an old fat hairy man in a thong accosting a school girl in uniform would have been a shocking scene, here it was normal. He moved the bed over to the center of the room and ordered Sophie to make the mattress with some white sheets.

A sense of doom lay over her as Sophie tucked the mattress in, especially when she felt his hand go up her skirt as she bent over to the other side.

“Sit down with me Sophie.”

The two kissed on the bed. Tongues interlocked, Pembroke’s hand on her thighs, and Sophies bunched in fists by her sides. His hands started to roam all over, up her blouse, and under her bra, tweaking her nipples. Sophie gasped and stared at the ceiling -so it was beginning. Please, let it not hurt too much.

He placed his fingers in her mouth, and ran his hands over her tongue, looking inside her mouth as if she were a sex doll to be inspected. He stuck his tongue in her ear; she shuddered as she heard and felt the wet tongue charge its way almost inside her brain, like a slug invading her mind.

Pushing her on her back, he went to her legs and licked them all the way from the socks to her thighs, up her skirt and began lapping furiously at her pussy through the cotton knickers. Sophie arched her back and panted, this felt good. “Hmmmm” she closed her eyes, and admitted to herself that there were some things she could not help but enjoy.

He flicked off her socks, and moved his tongue to the soles of her feet and her toes, sucking and licking. He had to hold her ankles tight to stop her kicking, as she screamed and giggled at how ticklish it was. He grinned, this was fun!

“Take your blouse and bra off, and your knickers, Sophie”

Sophie took them off and threw them to the side of the bed. Pembroke’s head plunged back between her legs and he growled as he sucked and licked furiously at her pussy, before yanking her panties down her hips and off her legs. He took off his thong, and began spitting on his cock. Sophie looked wet enough…

“Please … I don’t think I’m ready…”Sophie could feel the air on her pussy, she was so exposed. He stuck one then two fingers inside her and saw her eyes pop out as she screamed.

“Aaa … noo…” she tried to grab his hands. Pembroke smiled sadly, she would try and stop him if he did not force her.

“Thats it baby, you are nice and wet now, I am going to go inside you now. It’s going to be all right darling…”

He lowered himself on top of her, his body dwarfing and crushing hers. He felt the head of his cock meet resistance, and pushed while grabbing and pulling up her thighs for easier access.

Sophie had dreamt of this pain but the experience of it was something else. It felt like a knife was pulling her apart. She dug her nails into his back and grunted into his neck as he kissed her forehead gently. In a few short seconds, after a minute of pressure, his cock moved to completely fill her pussy and he was in to the hilt, his balls nestling against her asshole.

“Nnnn … Aaaaa … Oooo.” Sophie shut her eyes tightly and bit into her own hand to try and take away the pain in her vagina from the brutal invasion. Pembroke kept thrusting and while holding her head and rubbing his face through her hair.

He didn’t last long. He came and shouted loudly in triumph. He collapsed on top of her, exhausted. “Mmmph … Please I can’t breathe…” Sophie was being smothered by his chest, and he finally rolled off her. Looking down at his cock, he could see his cock and the sheets covered in blood.

“Had you finished your period?”

“Yes, sorry, it just hurt a lot…” Sophie was holding her hands between her legs and sobbing quietly.

“Fuck that was amazing! I cannot wait to do it again. My God, why was I doing anything else, all I needed from my life was to have a girl like you.”

He turned to his side and held her face to kiss her again. She could not escape his bear hug and had to reciprocate.

He soon regained his mojo and within a few minutes he was fucking her doggy style. He looked down at her cute asshole, winking at him. He pulled out just so he could dive in with his tongue on her hole, licking and trying to poke his tongue inside her.

“Ooo” Sophie felt freaked out by this, anal sex was foreign to her. It felt dirty especially when he used the same tongue to kiss her mouth soon after.

They finally collapsed with Pembroke enveloping her. Pembroke dozed off in a happy sleep. Sophie could not sleep with the pain between her legs, and after a while managed to slip out from under his heavy arms.

She walked around the basement, and then looked at her rapist, her captor, her ‘daddy.’ A sprawling mound of flesh, his weapon now asleep between his legs. She could feel a coating of his saliva all over her. A slimy liquid was oozing out of her, it smelt salty, and she realized it was his cum.

She looked at the doors. Maybe the top door was unlocked? She could be up there in less than thirty seconds. Might she have another chance? She edged forwards and had her hands on the cage door. She looked over her shoulder, he was still asleep.

In the end, she couldn’t do it. She waited and waited but couldn’t work up the courage to try the gate again. His snoring became quieter, and he started mumbling in his sleep. Feeling ashamed of herself, Sophie tiptoed back into bed, and curled up beside him. “Hmmm … I think I will sleep here with you … good night baby” he kissed her forehead. “Good night daddy” she answered.

His arm draped itself over her, and she snored into her back. This time she did not try to get up, and fell asleep as well.

Pembroke awoke the next morning in the arms of a beautiful girl, just like his dreams. He was soon horny again, and soon Sophie found herself getting pounded again. This was not quite as painful as last night. They showered together, with she lathering him in sap at his command. Slowly she was getting over her revulsion at his body. A week earlier in the basement she would have vomited automatically at having to use hands to wash his ass crack with soap, but she managed it with only distaste now.

“I think now it’s time for you to try oral sex now Sophie, take my cock in your mouth and suck and lick it like a lollipop”

“OK”,

“OK daddy, remember I’m your daddy from now on, right?”

“Yes daddy”

He lay back with his legs spread looking with wonder at the goddess sucking and licking at his cock, only the slightest of traces of her black eye remaining, the only suggestion that she was being forced.

“Now my balls, lick them gently, very gently. Ahhh thats it”

This was heaven. Why did more men not do this? If most men could experience a taste of this, there would be girls disappearing off the streets every day. Who needs a wife or dating when all you need is a secure facility, and the will to snatch and beat a female to satisfy your needs, all for the ongoing costs of some spare food and cheap underwear.

“Now lower, move your tongue lower, down the crack of my ass, lower, LOWER!”

No, Sophie thought to herself, this was too far, she felt sick for the first time, and raised her head.

“Sorry daddy, I can’t.”

““Not only can you lick my ass, you WILL lick my ass” he sat up, grabbed her hair, and slapped her across the face, then put her over his knee and spanked her hard

“Now lie on your back!”

He got on top of her, and held her wrists down by her sides, then maneuvered himself so his ass was over her face. “Nooooo” He lowered himself down until he could feel her breath against his asshole and pushed into her face, grinding down.

“Let me feel that tongue!” He reached down and fingered her pussy with one hand and got both wrists under his knees, with his other free hand he roughly tweaked her nipples. “Come on, work that tongue, kiss my asshole, move that tongue around!”

Sophie nearly passed out in terror and disgust as his asshole approached her face like an alien spaceship. The warm sweaty crack enveloped her face stifling her breath and she was soon too busy trying to get air in her lungs to worry about the disgusting bodily orifice planted on her lips. Her tongue flickered over it in answer to the pain of her nipples being attacked. She shut her eyes tightly, and moved her tongue like it was something not connected to the rest of her body, trying to blot out the tastes and smells, not to mention sights, she was experiencing.

Pembroke thought he might cum just from her tongue, my God, he thought, he had been right that only a kidnap victim would be prepared to do this, on threat of pain and violence. It felt amazing.

Afte what seemed like hours of lovemaking, Pembroke had her shower and change into some shorts and vest, and he took the dirty sheets and clothes upstirs. Locking her in, he thanked her. “This is the worst thing that has happened to you, but it’s the best thing that has ever happened to me, so I guess we are even.”

Pembroke relented on the job offer and was soon working in London on his short term contract. At work, all he wanted to do was get back to his house and have sex with Sophie. His boss was a twenty nine year old Oxbridge graduate who did not understand technology at all but was a ‘people person.’ Unfortunately for Pembroke what this meant was that she realized he was a creep straight away. Pembroke tried to concentrate on work but the office girls distracted him with their loud chat and insanely short skirts.

Their feminine power only made him hornier for when he got home, whereupon he would feed his mother, change her clothes and wash her, and then go down and fuck Sophie to within an inch of her life.

Anal sex was something Sophie also had to get used to. Pembroke introduced a douche head to her shower and showed her how to stick it up her ass to clean herself out and give herself an enema. She was told, in no uncertain terms, that the cleanliness of her ass and her body in general, was her responsibility and she would be punished if he was displeased.

“Daddy’s rule, Sophie, is that everything that goes in your asshole, also goes into your mouth afterwards, so be sure that you make it clean.”

Sophie’s screams bounced around the walls of the basement when he first fucked her asshole, lubricated by nothing more than his saliva and some juices gleaned from fingering her pussy. His cock had come out without any shit on it, which was good, but still covered in blood, but no matter. Daddy’s rule. Sophie still had to suck it, thought a few slaps to her face were required before she did so. Unlike her vagina, her anus proved to be too sensitive for a quick recovery and she could not sit down for several days afterwards. Pembroke did not let this handicap interfere with her new found sexual duties, and even though he promised to foreswear anal sex till she recovered, she still had to enema herself, despite the agony it caused her injured anus.

The saw horse also saw the action that had been promised, as Pembroke fucked her and licked and bit her all over while she was strapped into it. She shook like an epileptic while wailing as he licked the soles of her feet and dragged his fingernails across her sensitive insteps. The feeling of having her toes sucked drove her over the edge, she could not deny that there was a part of this torture that was getting to her mentally.

After the initial whirlwind of sex, Sophie reflected that she enjoyed part of it, and was terrified that she might end up loving it. After all, if this was the rest of her life, why shouldn’t she get used to it and like it?

Between work and sex Pembroke did find the time to rustle up a new contraption to train her in oral sex. It was a pillar with a button that the unfortunate user had to press with their nose. The button clicked ‘green’ when it’s pressed in past a certain point and turned ‘red’ when it was released about five inches. To maintain the correct rhythm, the transition between ‘red’ and ‘green’ must happen once every second. If the button wasn’t pressed or released at the right time, an electric shock was emitted, indicating a missed beat or an incorrect interval. This setup demanded precision and consistency, as the slightest delay triggers the alarm.

The button was placed on the pillar at the same level as Sophie’s face as she knelt down. Straps were attached to bind Sophie to the pillar and keep her hands restrained. The electric shock would be transmitted via wires which were connected to little crocodile clips.

When he first set Sophie up on it, she worked well on it, but was not prepared for the crocodile clips, which he attached to her nipples as she tried desperately to take them off, but her hands were securely strapped to the pillar and useless.

“OOOOwww please,, take them off, it hurts!”

“You will get used to it don’t worry, the nipples will accommodate them. In the meantime, you need to worry about the electric shocks, you need to make sure you get your rhythm right!”

Sophie managed all right with the nose pressing. However, it was when he introduced a dildo, attached to the pillar right below the button, at mouth height to the button’s nose height, that the game really began. Sophie had to swallow and suck on the dildo to get the button pressed now.

Pembroke marveled at his ingenuity as he watched her furiously bob her head, moving her neck back and forth at great pace, to avoid the shocks. But the shock came, as she got tired and slowed down. Muffled screams and guttural noises filled the air each time, to the sound of the gentle buzz as her nipples were shocked.

Pembroke smiled at her determination as she had to fight the pain of the shock to concentrate to regain her sense of rhythm and get her neck pumping again. It wasn’t easy, and he had no intention of trying this himself. Sweat lashed off her while saliva poured almost non stop out of her engorged mouth.

“A challenge for you, darling. We will do this exercise with this machine every day for the next week for half an hour, if I can find the time. By the end of this week, you have to be able to make me cum with your mouth within half an hour of sucking me. If you can’t do that, well, the lessons will continue, but you’ll be punished with half an hour in the sack, you don’t like that do you?”

Even amid the pleasures of lovemaking it shocked Sophie that he still retained the essential cruelty and malice, and that he still, at heart, enjoyed hurting her.

No one at Pembroke’s new work could guess at his sex life. They just guessed that he was a sad lonely man. No matter, he though, not only did he earn more in a day than they did in a week, but he could get all his sexual needs taken care of by the girl of his dreams when he got home. At a swift drinks evening on the Friday, he watched the girls around him, and wondered how they would react in his basement. As his young manager held court with her admiring colleagues, confident and classy, he quietly sat in the corner, not saying anything but admiring her long blonde hair, perfect make-up, even after a nine hour day, and aristocratic posture.

He smirked at how she would look like with bruises, cuts, crying and whimpering, her blue eyes wide in panic, protesting meekly as he sat on her face. How he resented her power over him the office.

Oh well, downed his pint and left, with no one noticing or caring. He felt so useless and invisible to the rest of the world despite his skills and intelligence. Oh well, Sophie would suffer for his bosses’ arrogance.

That evening, Sophie was changed into a office girl outfit, that is a cheap fancy dress version he had ordered from China. Pembroke was a little annoyed at how unrealistic it was. Instead of a pencil skirt, Sophie’s skirt was split to her thigh and came barely past her crotch. He still enjoyed spanking Sophie, making her squeal. He prided himself on not leaving any marks on her pristine bottom but still getting that satisfying yelp of pain and hearing that echoing crack of hand on flesh.

“Yes, daddy, women are stupid, we don’t deserve to be free to work and come and do as we please.”

“You’re a good girl Sophie, you do as you told. Now suck my cock, remember the deadline, practice the only skills you need to learn.”

As Pembroke lay back, enjoying her clumsy but desperate sucking, he reflected on the last two weeks. Sophie’s training was still going well, but he should not grow complacent. She was still the girl who had been disgusted with him on the outside world and who desperately yearned for freedom and her family.

Chapter 31
Rodney Jackson’s life was being turned upside down after being released pending investigation. News of his previous conviction and allegations of child pornography possession were enough, on their own, for vandals to daub ‘paedo’ on his house.

Sophie had become a media sensation since her disappearance and the press were hungry for any leads. Frustration had been growing with the lack of a body being recovered and the hunt was on for a murderer.

Jackson could not convince the police had had nothing to do with Sophie’s disappearance. “Why would I even have told you I saw her in the first place? If I hadn’t then none of this would have happened to me!”

His wife had left him, and when he eventually, after two nights in a police cell, claimed he was with a 15 year old schoolgirl girlfriend all day, the police were not inclined to believe him. Especially when Selina denied it out of embarrassment, and then told police that she thought he might have killed Sophie. Selina herself had come to believe the rumours that Jackson had killed Sophie. If not him, then who?

Jackson had lost his girlfriend, his wife, his job, would lose his home and was losing his friends. His parents had been disgusted by the child pornography possession charges.

His one solace had been his solicitor, an attractive young Asian woman, Yasmin Chopra. She had been disgusted after viewing the porn he had been caught with but knew she had to fight his corner. But Jackson made her skin crawl. Their professional relationship was already on edge after she caught him staring at her ass as she had bent over to pick some papers in the interview room. ‘How could he still perv over a woman in his current situation, what kind of sick out of control libido does he have?’

It had been a week after his arrest, and he had been in out of the police station several times. He had one brief stint in the main section of a prison where he had faced the wrath of inmates baying for his blood. His one hope that this woman, Yasmin, could help him somehow avoid prison.

Yasmin entered the interview room with the same air of professionalism she always had. Her tailored skirt and blazer, glasses, and neatly pinned hair gave her an aura of authority. Rodney Jackson, on the other hand, looked worn down, his shoulders slumped and his eyes darting around as if he expected trouble at any moment.

“Good afternoon, Rodney,” she said as she sat across from him. “How are you holding up?”

He let out a bitter laugh. “How do you think I’m holding up? My life’s a complete mess. They dragged my name through the mud, my house is vandalized, my wife left me, and even my girlfriend has turned against me. It can’t get much worse.”

“Rodney,” Yasmin said with a hint of disapproval, “you shouldn’t refer to Selina as your girlfriend. She’s a minor, and besides, she’s not on your side right now.”

He shrugged. “Right, right. Another bitter ex, huh?” He chuckled, but it was a hollow sound.

Yasmin was visibly exasperated. “Rodney, she’s only fifteen. Anyway, let’s focus on the main issue. I have some news that might offer a bit of relief. The police have all but conceded that there’s not enough evidence to charge you in connection with Sophie’s disappearance.”

“Are you serious?” Rodney’s eyes widened. “They put me through hell for nothing?”

“Unfortunately,” Yasmin replied, her voice measured, “it appears that your past conviction, along with the public attention surrounding Sophie’s case, made you a prime suspect. But from a legal standpoint, there’s no solid evidence to link you to her disappearance. The case against you is collapsing.”

“I can’t believe it,” Rodney muttered, rubbing his forehead with his palm. “I’ve lost my job, my family, and everyone still thinks I did something to that girl.”

“I know,” Yasmin said sympathetically. “It’s not fair. But the fact that they won’t be charging you should help. At least officially, you’re not considered guilty of anything related to Sophie.”

“And what about the other charges?” Rodney asked. “The ones about the … you know, the other stuff?”

Yasmin frowned. “Those charges are separate and still under investigation. Given the serious nature of the accusations and the public attention, the police are pursuing them aggressively. They say they have a statement from Selina alleging abuse.”

“Abuse? What the hell?” Rodney looked genuinely baffled. “Even if I’m not charged over Sophie, everyone thinks I’m guilty. I can’t even walk down the street without people yelling at me.”

Yasmin’s expression turned stern as Rodney reached across the table and placed his hand on hers. “Rodney, that’s inappropriate,” she said, quickly withdrawing her hand. “I’m here out of professional obligation. If you touch me again, I’ll have to call an officer.”

Rodney sighed. “Sorry” he mumbled. He couldn’t help but be a creep, even his own lawyer hated him.

Elsewhere, Teresa’s hands were clenched into tight fists, her knuckles white with rage. The news programme was showing the latest updates on the Rodney Jackson investigation, and it was all she could do to keep from throwing something at the screen. Jenny sat beside her, her arm wrapped around her mother’s shoulders, providing what little comfort she could.

“That fucking animal,” Teresa muttered, tears welling in her eyes. “I know he did something to our Sophie.”

Jenny tightened her grip on her mother, trying to soothe her. “We don’t know yet, Mum,” she said softly. “The police are still looking. Maybe … maybe if he has her hidden somewhere, they’ll find her. As long as there’s no body, I’m not going to believe she’s dead.”

Teresa shook her head, her tears flowing freely now. “I just don’t understand how this could happen,” she said, her voice breaking. “She was just going to school. How could someone just take her? How could he take my little girl?”

Jenny felt a lump forming in her throat, but she tried to stay strong for her mother. “We have to stay hopeful, Mum. The police are doing everything they can. Maybe they’ll find her soon, and we can put this nightmare behind us.”

Teresa sobbed into her hands. “I don’t know if I can take it, Jenny. Every day, not knowing … it’s tearing me apart.”

Jenny pulled her mother closer. “I know, Mum. I feel it too. But we have to stay strong for Sophie. We can’t give up on her. She wouldn’t give up on us.”

Teresa nodded through her tears, but the look in her eyes was one of anguish and uncertainty. “I just want her back,” she said. “I don’t care what it takes. I just want her back.”

Jenny held her mother, knowing that words alone couldn’t mend the pain they both felt. The news programme droned on in the background, but all they could think about was Sophie—where she was, if she was safe, and whether they’d ever see her again.

Just a few miles away, Edward Pembroke luxuriated in a well-earned pint after another fat paycheck day. His week’s contract work amounted to more than Teresa and Jenny earned in months. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

He surveyed the laughter of young people basking in the London summer. He watched young girls twirl in their summer dresses, their carefree joy a stark contrast to the burdens etched on Teresa and Jenny’s faces, not to mention young Sophie. One girl caught his eye, in a polka dot red dress, looking like it would blow up, Marilyn Blow style, at any second. She was smiled and laughing and her friends, and Pembroke could not help but smile as he watched her. It was ironic, he thought, her smile attracted her to him and yet everything he wanted to do to her would erase that smile from her forever.

He thought of the red polka dot dress that evening as he masturbated furiously on his sofa. He needed to cum. After getting his release, he soon recovered and made his way down to the basement.

Sophie was once again devoid of any sign of the radiant happiness of summer. She had not seen sunlight in weeks and was sitting against the wall in her cell in blue vest and knickers. Her eyes turned to Pembroke, vacant and lifeless.

“Now Sophie, time for your competition, excited?” He practically vibrated with an unnatural glee. “I certainly hope you succeed. It is rather nice to see that pretty face unmarred for once, wouldn’t you say?”

Sophie rose mechanically, her despair a heavy cloak around her. She offered no resistance as Pembroke yanked open the cell door.

“Stand up straight, girl!” he barked, a cruel parody of a teacher correcting a pupil. A stinging slap landed on her bottom as she shuffled out, the pain a brief, unwelcome spark in her numb world.

“Now, listen up,” he continued, his voice laced with sadistic glee. “I have a little timer here, for an hour to be precise. It’ll give a warning – ten minutes left, five minutes left, one minute left. Just to add to the tension, you see! No need to look up, you’ll be far too busy concentrating on the lovely task at hand…”

He took off his dressing gown to reveal his naked body, and lay back on the bed with his legs spread, knees up and far apart. Sophie stared at his flaccid cock, his heavy balls and his taint, relatively hairless since he had started shaving down there. Part of her felt good that she was ale to push herself to do this. Another part of her felt dead. A month ago, what would she have thought of a girl who did not throw up at the sight of what was in front of her. Had she not told herself, as Pembroke had often cheerfully reminded her, that she would kill herself rather than be with someone as ugly as him when she was older? And now she, a pretty young girl, faced a life of this…

“Your time has started. Get that mouth working!”

Sophie dropped to her knees and fondled his balls and pulled back his foreskin to try and get an erection. The bastard, why was he not hard? Was he trying to sabotage her?

Pembroke lay back, he would always enjoy having a young tongue slave away between his legs. He closed his eyes and thought of the girl in the red polka dot dress again. Soon he was hard and Sophie was bobbing her head up and down. The oral sex trainer he had built had helped her get rid of her gag reflex and build her stamina, but she had yet to really master the suction and other skills such as tickling and licking the right places that the best escorts had. Well, she had all the time in the world to learn, he smiled to himself.

Time ticked by, Sophie took a break from sucking by sucking and licking on his balls. On the ‘fifteen minute mark’ she started panicking and sucked harder. Pembroke was starting to feel some discomfort. He pulled Sophie off and gave her a light slap across the face, enough to shock her and knock her head violently to the side. “Gentle, not too hard, remember”

Sophie moderated herself, and in desperation first licked his asshole then pushed her index finger in as far as it would go, knowing he loved it, and slid her tongue around the slit on his helmet.

Pembroke really, really wanted her to fail. He had not spent hours reading on torture techniques for nothing. He thought of anything that would put him off cumming, like his mother, and helping her in the shower. But her finger on his prostrate and her furious suction skills were starting to have an effect. He was going to cum!

One minute left, he tried thinking of anything disgusting and bit into his finger to stop himself from cumming. But he could almost feel the cum rising from his balls!

Sophie could feel his cock twitching. At last! Her jaw was really hurting and her tongue was burning, but only a few seconds more surely…

‘Beep, beep, beep… ‘

“Awwww” Pembroke pushed Sophie off him, and cupped is balls, thinking her might still cum there and then. “Oh … my God … that was good Sophie but … you failed”

Sophie had been pushed back on to her back but got back up calmly, she was getting used to the causal violence. She was sure he had done everything he could to stop cumming, she could almost feel the salty cum in her mouth.

“I’m sorry daddy, maybe a few minutes more?”

“No, you failed. You are going to get punished.”

Tears welled silently in Sophie’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks in a muffled sob. She twisted a strand of her fiery red hair, the once vibrant curls now matted and tangled, clutching it in her hand as if it were a lifeline.

“I am going upstairs, now you go into the position, Oh … I can’t remember the name, face the wall, stand up, stick your bum out, and put your hands against the wall above your head. And stay like that until I get back down. I will be watching the whole time, if you move you’ll be beaten, on top of your punishment!”

Pembroke returned, pleased to see her arched back as was leaning against the wall. He was excited to start on this punishment. He had been following the news and had been very interested in the concept of ‘waterboarding’ which had been used to interrogate Islamic terrorists. Until recently he would never have imagined that he would be one of a privileged few who could practice it on another human being with impunity.

He brought a chair behind Sophie, and attached restraints to the legs and arms. Sophie turned her head to look.

“Face the wall! Mind your own business for now”

Sophie turned quickly back to the wall, breathing quicker. What on earth was this? Please make it just a spanking…

“Now turn around and sit on the chair.”

Sophie turned around and saw a chair with a bucket of water next to it. She walked slowly to the chair, and sat down.

“Arms on the rests, let me tie you down.”

She tried to breathe through her nose to calm herself. There was no point in complaining, maybe if she said something it might make this punishment go quicker and easier.

“I promise I will do better next time daddy.”

“Oh you will, after this.”

Her wrists and ankles were secured with clicks of plastic bindings, “daddy, what are you doing?” Sophie tested the bindings, she could find nothing in Pembroke’s face except cold efficiency.

Pembroke produced a length of thick cloth, dunked it unceremoniously in the ice water, then wrung it out with practiced ease. Was he going to wash her with cold water?

The cold, wet rag came up fast, shoved brutally over Sophie’s face. Another hand clamped down on the back of her head, forcing her back against the rough wood of the chair. The world tilted, her body a helpless puppet. Sophie strained against the bindings, a silent roar trapped in her chest.

Then came the water. Not a torrent, but a measured pour directly onto the cloth. Sophie’s gasp became a choked gurgle, the room spinning as her fight for air turned primal. Every desperate inhale sent a fresh wave of icy water into her nose and lungs, the burning sensation intensifying with each panicked breath. Her body convulsed, the urge to fight a losing battle against the weight holding her down. Everything narrowed to a single, agonizing point – the need to breathe.

Her vision dimmed, and she struggled to focus. She thought of a random Biology class she once had where a teacher had taught them about birds hunting fish in water, then she and her mum shopping in a clothes store. The strangest most random memories would be her final thoughts.

What consumed her above all was the searing need to breathe. Her pleas, if they ever formed, died strangled behind the waterlogged cloth. Seconds stretched into agonizing minutes.

Suddenly, with a jarring movement, the pressure on her head lifted. The cloth was ripped away. She gasped, a strangled cough that racked her entire body. Air, precious, life-giving air, flooded into her lungs, each breath a scorching pain.

Her relief only lasted a few seconds. “Interesting, it looks really, really painful…” Pembroke was almost talking to himself, imagining how this would have worked out in military interrogation centres. The cloth went back to Sophie’s face, and her ordeal began again. This time, however, the terror was laced with a new, paralyzing element: knowledge. She knew what awaited her. She knew the burning in his lungs would return, the world would spin, the desperate fight for air would be a losing battle, each gasp a surrender to the inevitable.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, he threw the cloth into the bucket. Sophie slumped against the rough wood of the chair, her body a trembling wreck. Exhaustion, physical and mental, crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Pembroke watched the white face, her tongue lolling around in her mouth as she tried to breathe through loud wretching. Her eyes were bloodshot, her pupils wildly dilated, and her hair soaked as was her whole body. She was shivering and wet from the freezing water.

Her torso was visible through her soaking vest. Her nipples were like icicles sticking through the material responding to the cold. The wet vest clung to her concave stomach as it sucked in and out as she desperately tried to get air into her body. Soon, the basement was alive with sounds of her chattering teeth, rapid breathing and the clinks of her wrists and ankles as they shook and shivered against her bindings.

“Sophie? Sophie? Can you hear me?”

“P-please-please let me out, I’m cold, please stop it…”

Pembroke pushed the chair to under the showerhead, and let warm water run over her. He massaged her head and let her hair soak in the warmth.

After a few minutes, he turned her around, still bound to the chair. She was soaking like a drowned rat, her body fully visible under the material which was plastered onto her body.

“Now Sophie, that was a little experiment, but it is important that you know boundaries. All good girls need boundaries and you have to know that if you do not satisfy me sexually, you can expect punishment.”

Sophie spoke with a heavy voice as if she had smoked fifty cigarettes. Her throat still hurt with ever word. “Please, I did what you wanted, its not my fault if you didn’t cum.”

“It is your responsibility to make me cum if that is that I ask you. You knew you had this competition, but you didn’t focus on it. I put you on the cocksucking trainer every day, but did you ever ask for more time on it? You shouldn’t have waited to the deadline to make me cum you should have worrying about it and trying to do it as soon as possible. When I took you off the cockscuking trainer, you should have asked me, politely of course, if you could be put on it for another hour, and asked for the electric current to be stronger to motivate you more! You should have been begging me all week for a chance to suck my cock more as well!”

Sophie felt disorientated, was he right? Should she have worked harder on him? If she had sucked and licked as hard as she had just now, all week, maybe he would have came in her mouth by now.

“This was the first time you licked my ass without me ordering it! That is good, but why did you not do it days ago? Also, I spy on you in your cell, you read your book, you sulk, you play around with weird hand movements and jumping around, but I never see you thinking of me”

Sophie furrowed her brow at this statement.

“I give you plenty of time by yourself. The least you can do it think of your daddy and how you will please him.”

With that, Pembroke stuck some fingers into Sophie’s mouth. “Lick and suck my fingers, go on…” She opened her mouth wide and tried to accommodate the invasive digits as they went to the back of her throat.

“See you could have done with your own fingers. You could have practised licking and sucking on your own fingers in your cell when I wasn’t there, as if it were my cock. Instead you daydream and think nothing about me.”

Pembroke had started his rant half heartedly to mock her, but as he continued, he thought how it made sense. This girl was his slave, she was not a mannequin. She should be thinking and practising of pleasing him, that was literally her only purpose in life now, and she had more than enough time for it. Impulsively, he grabbed her by the throat. “Always remember I have your life in my hands, you need to make me want to keep you alive. OK?”

“Sorry … I’M SORRY” Sophie was screaming now, and was silenced by a gentle slap the face which turned her face.

“Sorry Sophie” his manner suddenly turned gentle again. “I just get jealous, and wonder what goes through your head sometimes. I know you don’t want me, and sometimes that just makes me frustrated, but I understand.” He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. “Now, I will let you go and then you can dry and change and I will get you your dinner. Before I do, I want to cum. This time, just sit there and do nothing this time, you can relax haha.”

Pembroke started masturbating in front of her. He had been turned on
my her convulsing body during the water boarding and had grown rock hard again. It did not take him long to get to a climax.

“Ohhh … yes … Open your mouth bitch!”

Sophie obeyed and he placed his cock on her tongue as he expelled a slab of cum into her mouth. Sophie swallowed and gulped. She prayed he would now leave her alone.

Pembroke did so, he got her a new set of clothes, red and back patterned pyjama shorts and T-shirt and left to make her dinner. Interesting technique, he thought, as he reflected on the water boarding. The limits to his curiosity with her was endless.

Teresa was furious when she heard that the police did not have much evidence to pursue Rodney Jackson for Sophie’s disappearance.

“He took her! I know he did! Why won’t you do your job? How can something like a phone and a laptop just have no records anywhere online?” Tears welled in Teresa’s eyes, but they were quickly overtaken by a steely glint. She slammed her fist on the table, the sound echoing in the sterile interrogation room. “ Nothing? After all this time? You have his record. How can you just let him walk away with my Sophie?” The detective shifted uncomfortably. Teresa’s words hung heavy in the air, a chilling reminder of the gaps in their investigation.

A few days later, Pembroke was ready for another round of waterboarding if Sophie failed this time. To emphasis this, he placed a bucket of water and towel beside the bed. “Now Sophie, your time to shine! But first, I am just going to make it a little more interesting, give you a challenge…”

Sophie was determined to suck him to completion this time. But what was he planning, to frustrate her? She had to believe there was nothing resembling fairness down here.

“Stick your little bottom up in the air for me, I am going to cum in your ass first, then you will make me cum a second time in your mouth. Don’t worry Sophie I am very horny so if you use your mouth well you will still make me cum!

Pembroke opened her up with his fingers and then drove his hard cock up her asshole. Sophie screamed and bit into the mattress, she had not expected this. She got no pleasure from anal sex, only a burning pain as if her insides were being sawed up.

Pembroke came quickly, pulled out and lay back on the mattress. “Oh dear, Sophie, I think you may have forgotten one of daddy’s rule, that everything that goes in your ass can go in your mouth. Your ass seems to have not been quite so clean, well that is your problem, you will clean it with your mouth now. Don’t worry the taste will go away after a few minutes of brisk sucking my cock and licking my own asshole, which might taste nicer than yours!”

Sophie did not want to be waterboarded again. She threw herself between his legs and sucked on his dirty cock, leaking cum and covered in her anal excretions. She tried to blot out the taste and smell and kept going at a steady pace. She moved to his balls and asshole with her tongue, then inserted her fingers into his hole, massaging his insides as she licked and sucked his cock.

“Remember Sophie, you have three holes. Your asshole and pussy are important but they are rather passive. Your mouth and your tongue, they need to be active. Your tongue in particular, is your most important organ, you can use it to pleasure me on any part of my body, so never be shy about using it.”

Eventually Pembroke came, well within time. Sophie almost cried with relief as she tasted the salty taste of cum, the taste of victory and relief from torture, as Pembroke sighed loudly. “Well done Sophie! That was excellent, now there is no excuse to be dropping standards in future, remember that!”

Sophie sat back, she had done everything she could. She tried to accept that he could still do anything he wanted, and waited for more misery to come. She was right; he was not quite done with her degradation.

“Now Sophie, I think you need to graduate to something else. I enjoyed that but after cumming twice, in your ass and mouth, I now need to piss. Watersports is the name of the sexual activity of playing with each other’s piss, drinking it even. I am going to introduce you to it now.”

Sophie thought she had prepared for everything, but this new low made her heart sink. She needed to kill all hope for anything good, in order to stay sane, she realised.

“Now get under the shower, this is going to be dirty and messy but I will clean you afterwards. Take those clothes off and get naked, don’t want to make them dirty as well.”

Sophie stripped and instinctively went to the naru position, on her knees and palms facing up fro her thighs. “Now close your eyes, open your mouth and prepare for a big surprise!”

Pembroke smiled as he let piss flow from his cock onto Sophie’s face. If releasing the urge to piss after hours of sex felt good, onloading in the face of a unwilling teenage girl felt even better. The golden piss splashed against her forehead, her scrunched up nose and the foam of piss twinkled in her mouth as she spat it out. “Keep your mouth open please, I don’t expect you to swallow today, but you do need to get used the taste and to handle the spray. Soon you will be expected to drink and swallow every drop of my piss directly from my cock. Not every day, mind, but often enough.”

Sophie let the piss pass into and around her mouth. She closed her throat and tried to let the liquid flow out of her mouth again but still gagged at the disgustingly pungent smell.

“Nice, my God that is hot. Now I want to try, can you piss, Sophie?”

Sophie was now soaked in the sticky urine coating her like a second, stinking skin. All she wanted was to scrub herself clean and be free of this ogre for a few hours. “I can’t now, sorry.”

“Come on Sophie, I’m sure you can try, let me lie down here, come on, I want you to piss on me, I want to feel what it’s like.”

Watersports porn had always fascinated Pembroke, and he really wanted to feel what is like to drink piss from a beautiful girl. The smell, something never captured on video, was starting to get to him but had not yet put him off. “Come on Sophie” He grabbed a plastic cup, scooped out some ice water from the bucket and handed it to her. “Drink, down it, come on.”

Sophie did as she was told, grateful for something to get the taste out of her mouth. “OK, I can maybe pee a little…”

“Great! OK squat over me, and piss all over me, aim for my face as well!”

She awkwardly put two feet either side of his prone body. She had sat on his face before while he ate her out, so despite the submissive position she was still in no doubt as to who as in charge. She hovered a foot above him and tried to make herself pee, conscious of how her pussy would look to him as she strained her pussy.

As she finally let it flow, she looked down and saw the golden drops tinkle onto his large stomach and chest and splash around, feeling some bounce up and hit her legs. He saw his body move down so that his face caught her stream and felt his mouth approach her pussy to try and drink from her. One of his hands cupped her buttocks as his mouth got closer until she could feel the urine splash back from his face onto her pussy.

Suddenly, he pushed her forward, and she stumbled and fell on her hands and knees on top of his legs. “Uuughh fuck,” he was coughing and spluttering. He got to his feet while Sophie was still lying on the ground, frustrated as she still needed to finish peeing.

“Jesus, that’s fucking disgusting,” he blurted, his face twisted in revulsion as he spat and gagged, on the verge of retching. “Ugh, I always thought that looked good, but actually tasting it? Christ, no way! Ugh, that’s not for me,” he stammered, barely holding back a wave of nausea.

Sophie watched from her position on the ground, feeling pee still leaking from her, and thoroughly confused.

Pembroke took a moment to collect himself. “Do you need to finish, Sophie?”

“Yes, please.”

“OK just piss by yourself there, then we can both get ourselves clean.” Pembroke did not look at her this time, his desire to get clean was all he could think of.

Sophie felt like an animal pissing on display as he pissed. When she finished, he silently led her to under the shower and they both soaked themselves under the water, rubbing themselves and each other with the soapy liquid from the dispenser.

When they were done, Pembroke used her toothbrush on his own teeth, then brought her in front of him and started brushing her teeth while she stood impassively with arms by her side.

“I’m sorry for knocking you over Sophie. I did enjoy pissing on you, that was hot. But, I don’t think I will be letting you piss on me again. Sorry for being blunt, it’s just I always wanted to try it but I now know that piss is disgusting, who would have thought it, haha!”

Sophie agreed but said nothing as she let him move the brush around her teeth.

“Funny how the fantasy differs so drastically from reality, isn’t it, Sophie?” He leaned closer, his breath still containing traces of piss. “Don’t worry, we will still be playing with watersports again. I still enjoy playing with piss and one of us will definitely be drinking piss…,” he drawled, “but let’s just say, it’s not going to be me haha!”

Pembroke eventually left her with a change of clothes after her shower. She was relieved that the temporary nightmare was over but overwhelmed at the unfairness of it all.

Her book, once a safe escape from reality, now felt contaminated by the same ugliness. She couldn’t bring herself to pick it up, fearing that her own misery would spill over into the pages and ruin the one place where she could forget her suffering. The idea that this was her life from now on—constant bullying and degradation—felt unbearable. Yet, what choice did she have? Would she ever get a way out of this?

Chapter 32
Rodney Jackson sat alone in his darkened living room, staring at the faint glow of the TV that he’d left on for some semblance of company. The volume was low, but he could hear the distant voices of news anchors discussing yet another lead in the search for Sophie, the missing local girl. The speculation was relentless, and the whispers among the townspeople only grew louder with each passing day.

His home, once a place of comfort, now felt like a prison. The graffiti on his front door, boldly declaring him a ‘paedo’, was a constant reminder of how quickly his life had unravelled. A hastily applied tape covered the broken window where a brick had shattered the glass, a blunt message from the community that he was no longer welcome.

Rodney had hoped Yasmin, his lawyer, could offer some guidance, but her response was cold and dismissive. “Stay home, don’t talk to anyone, and call the police if you feel threatened,” she had said, her voice devoid of empathy. Even his own family had turned their backs on him; his mother explicitly told him not to visit, fearing for her own reputation. He felt isolated, vilified, and completely alone.

Just a few weeks ago, Rodney had a life most people would envy. He had a stable job, a loving wife, and dreams of starting a family. He was surrounded by friends and an extended family that cared about him. Now all of that was gone. He had tried to help the police, giving them information about the last time he saw Sophie, offering her a lift when she seemed stranded. And that had ruined his life, he laughed to himself.

Sure, he had made some mistakes. There were the few images he’d looked up when curiosity got the better of him, and a drunken encounter with a girl where the police had fitted him up, with that old case now being dredged up. As for Selina, that had been entirely consensual, just two people having a bit of fun, she was nearly sixteen anyway.

He couldn’t help but think about all the truly evil people in the world—those who caused harm without a second thought—yet they seemed to thrive while his life crumbled. It felt unbearably unfair.

Prison, even for a year, felt like a death sentence. He would be a ‘paedo’ and everyone believed he had done something with Sophie.

There was a knock on his door. He reached for his baseball bat, and looked out the window.

“Mr Jackson, Mr Jackson? I want to just talk to you.”

“Are you a reporter? I’m not giving any interviews.”

“No I ‘m not a reporter. I just want to talk to you.”

It was a woman’s voice. Jackson went to the door and looked out the peephole. He saw a middle aged woman with strawberry blonde hair. She seemed to be alone but he would not take any chances.

“Leave me alone. I will call the police.”

“I’m Sophie’s mother, I’m Teresa Yildiz, look I want to talk with you.”

Jackson froze. Was she really? Maybe this was a chance to tell her the truth. He knew the police had no evidence but he also knew they still suspected him. Maybe this would be a chance to convince her he was innocent and clear his name and get some sympathy.

“Mrs Yildiz? Are you by yourself? Look I don’t want to get attacked.”

“I’m alone, look I want to talk with you.”

“How did you find me?”

“Everyone knows where you live.”

Eventually, he relented and let her in. She seemed quite young still, and very attractive. She was in jeans and dark jacket. He invited her in and offered her a cup of tea.

Teresa feigned friendliness but Jackson disgusted her. He had an aura of slime, she had expected him to seem normal but she could not shake the impression of sleaze that she got from him.

“Listen Mrs Yildiz, Tersea, I didn’t touch your daughter. “I only offered to help,” he repeated, his voice slightly shaky. “I saw her on the road, and she looked lost. I thought she’d need a ride. That’s all. I swear. And then I went to the police and it’s cost me everything, if you believe me, you could help me…”

“What about my daughter? Do you not think she is not more important?”

“Of course, of
course, but I mean … I can’t help…”

Teresa could feel her anger rising. This man did not care about her daughter.

“You were going to hang out with a fifteen year old girl when you saw my daughter. So why did you stop and try and give her a lift? Were you being nice or were you going to do something with her as well?”

Jackson felt a flash of anger. He was tired of being accused of things he hadn’t done, of having every mistake he’d made thrown back in his face. “Selina and I were just—” He stopped, realizing that whatever he said would only make things worse. “It was a misunderstanding. And I’m not like that. I didn’t do anything to your daughter.”

Teresa stood up abruptly, her hands clenched into fists. “Misunderstanding? My daughter is missing, and you have the nerve to talk about misunderstandings? You’re a creep, everyone knows it.” She gestured to the graffiti on his door, the broken window. “You think people do that for no reason?”

Jackson felt his anger rising. “They don’t know me,” he snapped. “They don’t know anything. I didn’t do anything! You people have ruined my life because of some stupid rumours. You don’t know what it’s like to be accused of something you didn’t do.”

Teresa stepped forward, her eyes blazing with fury. “I don’t care about your life! My daughter is gone, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to find her.”

“Get out,” he said, his voice breaking. “Just get out. I can’t help you. I didn’t do anything to your daughter, and I don’t need this.” He pointed to the door, his hand trembling.

Teresa didn’t move immediately. She stood there, glaring at him as if she could force the truth out of him with sheer willpower. But then she got up and walked towards the door and Jackson followed her.

As Teresa walked out the hallway, she took in the dingy surroundings again and thought of Sophie being held prisoner here, or spending the last moments of her life here. Anger and fury took hold of her, and she brought out a knife from within her jacket and spun around, holding it to his throat.

“I know you took her, where is she? What did you do with her you FUCKING SCUMBAG!”

There was a scuffle, and Jackson reached for his baseball bat. He fended off several blows from Teresa, then swung with the bat and caught her right in the side of the head.

The impact was sickening, the crack of wood against bone echoing through the house. Teresa stumbled backward, her grip on the knife loosening as she clutched the side of her head. The force of the blow had sent her sprawling to the floor, where she lay dazed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Jackson stood over her, breathing heavily, the baseball bat still clutched tightly in his hands. He looked at the broken woman on his floor, blood trickling from where the bat had struck her temple.

“Why did you do that?” he shouted, his voice tinged with panic and guilt. “Why would you come at me like that? I didn’t do anything!”

Teresa pushed herself up, her vision blurry from tears and the force of the blow. She staggered to her feet, leaning against the wall for support, her other hand still pressed against her head. The pain was intense, but her anger burned even hotter.

“You’re lying! I know you did something to my daughter!” she cried, her voice breaking with grief and rage. “You can’t hide the truth forever! Everyone will find out what you are!”

Jackson felt a wave of remorse. He hadn’t wanted this. He just wanted to be left alone, to rebuild his shattered life. But now he’d struck a grieving mother, a woman who had every right to be angry, every right to seek justice for her missing child. He felt like the worst kind of person, no better than the rumours that had destroyed his reputation.

“Please, just leave!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you can’t just attack people like this! I didn’t do anything to Sophie!”

Teresa’s sobs grew louder as she limped toward the door, each step unsteady and filled with pain. But she was determined, her anger propelling her forward despite her injury. She reached the door and paused, looking back at him with a mix of fury and despair.

“I’ll never forgive you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You ruined my life. You took my daughter away. You will pay for this, one way or another.”

With that, she left, the door slamming behind her. Jackson was left alone in the wreckage of his life, the baseball bat still in his grip, and the echoes of her threats filling the empty spaces around him. He felt terrible, a crushing sense of guilt and remorse settling in his chest. He knew he would never be free of this for the rest of his life.

Weeks were dragging on in Sophie’s underground hell. The sex was unrelenting and Pembroke had a huge appetite for it. “Soon I will finish this work contract, then I can concentrate on you even more Sophie, before school terms starts. Maybe I should quit the teaching job and just do contract work, but then I would miss all those lovely young bitches sitting in front of me.”

Sophie was lying on his chest, they were both naked in the bed in the basement. He had made her cum several times as well, and she was, she hated to admit it, enjoying a lot of the aspects of the sex. Pembroke was intrigued by her squirting and as she relaxed more and more she was able to do it more.

Unfortunately, Pembroke seemed addicted to keeping her on her toes. Any vague sense of contented happiness on her part made him seem nervous. Pembroke wanted her to appear happy and smile, but also he was paranoid that she was planning something, or being condescending to him. The only way he could be sure of his superiority over her was when she was being tortured or humiliated.

This feeling was knawing on his now. He was lying in bed with an impossibly beautiful girl, laying across him like a lover. He idly stroked her back, feeling her ass and tits as if to confirm this dream was real. She seemed so peaceful and placid lying there, he thought. But how could she be? She wanted to be outside, she wanted to be free, not with him. He was suddenly angry, this was a lie, she was play acting!

“Sophie, get up, you need exercise. And you need to prove your obedience to me and not be lazy lying on me like this. Get up!”

The familiar sense of foreboding overtook Sophie. She knew that any vaguely nice situation could only last so long down here. She had been stupid to relax. She knew that her fear turned him on and was the thing that he wanted from her.

“I’m gonna lie here and watch you do Simon says. Go on, bring me that shock collar and the remote.”

Sophie brought them over and bent down to let him attach the collar to her. She braced herself for instruction.

“Simon says, dance for me.”

“What kind of dance?”

Bzzzzz!

“Any fucking dance, just make it sexy. And call me daddy you cheeky little bitch, remember!”

After recovering from the brutal shock, Sophie began to dance, nervously. She found it excruciatingly embarrassing to dance in front of people which was one of the things which horrified her about the original video Pembroke had captured of her in her bedroom and used to threaten her with. Like most self conscious young girls, she was not very sexy.

“Simon says make it sexier, you should know how.”

Sophie desperately twerked, gyrated and jumped around like a nervous schoolgirl.

“Come on Sophie, more eye contact with me. Make me believe you want me, make me believe my fat hairy body turns you on, that you crave my cock. I want you to convince me that you spend every waking hour in your cell thinking of my body and how horny it makes you feel. Come on, I’m turning up the shock level so you better make this sexiness believable.”

Sophie forced her lips to turn upwards into a smile, opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out provocatively. The more she pretended to enjoy it, the deeper the loathing festered within her. With every forced move, a silent scream echoed inside her, a desperate plea for this charade to end. This agonising suppression of her true self continued, as she played the role she despised.

He sat there, watching her with a satisfied smirk, eyes travelling over her body, lingering, assessing, feeding on her discomfort. Pembroke knew what he was doing. Every movement she was forced into was a betrayal, down to the movement of her lips and the suggestive movement of her eyes. Slowly but surely, as her body was forced more and more to betray her mind, her mind would have to give up.

He locked eye contact with her. “Give me those sexy eyes, yes, any sign of reluctance I see, and you get the shock!” Sophie did not have the comfort of flinching, instead her eyes just grew wider as she desperately kept up this awful acting. Her mouth grew into a wide smile, not out of happiness but a manic feeling of wretchedness. She was a whore, she had to act like one.

“Fuck that is good, good fucking girl. Now stop that, and come over and give me a tongue bath. We will leave the Simon says for another day, just for now, Simon says lick me all over.”

Sophie was relived to break eye contact, even if the task ahead was more disgusting. “Start at my feet, oh and no skipping this time. I know I have hairs on my toes and you might find it gross but that’s no excuse, I want to feel tongue on that part too. Same with my armpits, I shaved them last week so no excuse not to spend some time there with your tongue as well, in fact a lot more, to make up for last time!”

Sophie began running her tongue along the sole of his foot. God, what a horrible task this was going to be, his body was huge and sweaty.

“Aaaa that’s it, I love my feet being licked. You know what Sophie? I think you should do more sexy dancing for me sometime. There are cameras on you in the cell. I am going to set a timer for you, when I am away at work and every two hours I will have you get up, and do some dancing for me facing one of the cameras. Make you look into the camera, real sexual connection, and play with yourself as well. If you think that’s unfair, well your daddy has to work hard all day while you stay down here, so he needs rewarded, so I will check this when I get home. I don’t think its fair, do you? You sit down here for hours just sulking and reading, when you should be thinking of how to please your daddy who owns you and provides for you?”

Sophie groaned inside as she ran her tongue between his toes. Her bastion of safety was being eroded, even in her cell while he was miles away, she would have no peace. There was no freedom from him, anywhere, anytime.

Yasmin Chopra was coming out of the shower when she answered the phone. It was the Inspector Murphy she had tangled with. “We won’t be pursuing a case against your client, Rodney Jackson anymore” he said abruptly.

“Oh, well that’s good news, and is this why you are calling me out of hours?”

“I thought you should know as soon as possible. Mr Jackson is dead. His body was found this morning on the beach, we think he threw himself off a cliff last night.”

“Oh my GOD!” Yasmin was shocked, she had not expected this, he was obviously in despair, but the case on Sophie against him had no legs to run on and he knew it.

“Maybe a guilty conscience” said Murphy sardonically.

Yasmin thanked him and hung up. Well, that was one case closed. But the idiot would now have people forever believe he had killed Sophie Yildiz.

Inspector Murphy was also pissed off that his prime suspect was dead. He was also more convinced than ever that Sophie had not drowned herself in the sea. Jackson’s body had been washed up nearby within a few hours. So why was there still no sign of Sophie’s body after three weeks?

The police decided not to pursue any child porn possession investigation against Rodney Jackson. Selina, his ‘girlfriend’ denied they ever had a sexual relationship. His previous conviction, which was for touching up a girl while both she and he were drunk, was published in the media with many arguing he had done nothing wrong and should never have been prosecuted.

His funeral was attended by friends and family and soon he was made out in the media to be an innocent martyr by some, and a main suspect with others. A new twist was that Sophie’s mother had visited him on the day he had committed suicide, and Jackson’s face bore the signs of stab marks.

Teresa was interviewed by police and claimed she had only gone to his house, then admitted she had attacked him with a knife but claimed it was in self defence. Some suspected she may even have killed him and thrown him in the sea herself. Conspiracy theorists started to theorise that Jackson was murdered, the stab marks proving it, by the same person who had killed Sophie.

There were a lot of whispers against Teresa. Even the police were suspicious. She had claimed to have urged Sophie to take her laptop with her that fateful day, the absence of which had severely hampered the investigation. She had admitted to attacking Jackson on the day he died and was the last person who had seen him. Police also recalled that she had been out on the night Sophie disappeared, with some man whom she admitted she could not even trace, called ‘Brad’ and so did not even have an alibi and had only even noticed her own daughter was missing after 36 hours. The story of her coming home smelling of piss to greet officers on a morning soon after her daughter’s disappearance now became more suspicious than hilarious.

Teresa’s voice trembled, a desperate plea laced with a bitter edge. “No. You have to be out there looking for Sophie! Look, I didn’t do anything, why would I…” Her voice cracked, the question hanging heavy in the air. “Kill my own daughter? My poor Sophie…” Shame choked her next words, replaced by a strangled sob. “I would never hurt her. You need to look for the real killer.”

The detective’s voice, though firm, held a touch of sympathy. “Mrs Yildiz, we are. Believe me, everything is being done. But it’s been well over three weeks now. We have to investigate all leads. Look, I don’t think you killed your daughter and I don’t think you killed Rodney Jackson. But frankly there are a lot of unanswered questions. This ‘Brad’ character who has mysteriously disappeared, and your unfortunate attack on Mr Jackson and his subsequent death. And I hate to say it, but your rather baffling behaviour, I have a young daughter and the scenario where she would skip school and go missing and would not be missed by her parents for so long is … unusual. There are so many peculiarities around this case and I am not sure you are telling us everything.”

Teresa flinched at the accusation, a truth she couldn’t deny. Shame burned through her, a stark counterpoint to the chilling fear for her daughter. Her daughter would be alive and well if she had been a better mother. Why had Sophie not come to her about the naked photos and videos? Why had she not noticed her missing for so long? The thought that Sophie might have been pleading, begging for her mother while she was out gallivanting tore her apart.

The press had a field day about Teresa Yildiz. A hopeless, alcoholic mother who slept around, who brought strange men around. Police started tracking down her numerous exes and flings, many of whom had criminal records and who all became suspects.

Teresa now felt what Rodney Jackson had felt, as she walked through the streets with her head down, trying to avoid the glares and whispers that followed her wherever she went. It hadn’t always been like this. At first, when Sophie disappeared, people were kind and supportive. They brought casseroles, lit candles at vigils, and shared posts on social media to raise awareness. But as more than a month passed with no sign of Sophie, sympathy gave way to skepticism, then anger.

Now, as Teresa passed groups of people, she could hear them muttering cruel things under their breath. “Slag.” “Whore.” “What kind of mother loses her kid like that?” The words stung, each one a little dagger in her heart. And it wasn’t just on the streets—the same insults followed her online. She had to stop checking her social media accounts because the comments were too toxic, too filled with hate and blame.

She knew the rumors had taken a toll on her reputation. Funding for the search had dried up, and the media, which once clamored for interviews, now only offered her slots in sleazy magazines, suggesting she pose provocatively while talking about her missing daughter. It made her sick.

Teresa tried to focus on her work, cleaning and caring for the elderly, but it was hard to concentrate when her mind was always with Sophie. She’d given up alcohol when her daughter vanished, determined to stay sharp and vigilant in her search. But as the days stretched on without any sign of Sophie, the despair grew overwhelming. She started drinking again, each sip a momentary escape from the crushing reality of her daughter’s absence.

When would this nightmare end?

It didn’t help that her other daughter, Jenny, had become more distant. The stress of their situation had led to explosive arguments, with Jenny blaming Teresa for everything especially as she had learned more about Teresa’s conduct while she had been in Australia. The final row had been the breaking point, and Jenny had moved out, finding a flatshare with other struggling young people. Like her mother, Jenny had received offers from the media, but they were all exploitative, suggesting she strip down and talk about her missing sister as if it were part of some twisted reality show.

Jenny dreamed of returning to Australia, where for just a few weeks she had been living the dream. But those days felt far away now, overshadowed by the emptiness left by Sophie’s disappearance. More than anything, she wished for closure, for some news—anything—to end this torment.

Teresa knew that the only thing that could heal the rift between her and Jenny, the only thing that could restore some semblance of normalcy, was finding Sophie. But as the weeks turned into months, the chances of that happening seemed to grow smaller and smaller. And with each passing day, the world seemed colder, crueller, and more indifferent to their pain.

Sophie was reading her new book, Pride and Prejudice, immersed in the personality of Mr Darcy, when a buzzer sounded. She knew what this meant.

She put down her book, closed her eyes, and tried to go into some faraway place. Then she suddenly jerked to action and while staring at a camera in the ceiling just outside her cell, started dancing in her sequinned party dress, designed for 12 year olds so it was ridiculously short on her. She tried every move she could think of while sucking her fingers and staring suggestively into the camera. With Pembroke not here, she found it somewhat easier, even imagining it was a scene in the book or something from her memory. She thought back to that damn video she recorded. It had looked so embarrassing she saw it, which was often given how Pembroke like to remind her and humiliate her.

This was all to avoid a beating or worse. “I cannot wait for you to come home daddy, my pussy is waiting for your massive cock!” she shouted out, so the microphones would hear her. Behind her eyes, she felt a crippling anxiety. At what point would she come to believe this play acting, if it became so normal and realistic, maybe she would become the slut slave that her owner wanted of her. Maybe, and this was the really horrible thought, that was the easy way. If she destroyed what Sophie had been, and embraced being Pembroke’s slave, all this would be a lot easier.

Pembroke was sitting in his living room with his mother, sipping a nice glass of whiskey. On his table was his laptop, where he was watching Sophie dance and move and making sure that she had obeyed him that day. He was satisfied but was eager for her to slip up sometime soon, as he had been reading more intriguing articles about torture techniques used on spies in the cold war.

On the large screen TV he and his mother were watching a documentary on the disappearance of Sophie Yildiz. It went over the death of Rodney Jackson, with some talking heads sympathising with him and others arguing he was guilty, and others arguing he himself were murdered. It then shifted to poor Teresa and the trashing of her reputation. As the documentary went into lurid details about her lifestyle and the general chaos of the police investigation he could not help but chuckle and wonder if it was now safe enough to start prying into her life and maybe take advantage of her current dysfunction.

It switched to an interview with Teresa. “I just want my daughter back,” she said, her words coming out in a hoarse whisper. “I just want whoever it is who knows something or did something to come forward. This uncertainty is killing me.” She paused to wipe her eyes with a tissue, her shoulders shaking as the tears fell.

“People are calling me a monster or an idiot or a useless mother,” she continued, her voice cracking with emotion. “But all I want is my Sophie.”

Teresa covered her face with her hands, her body heaving with sobs.

“Please,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands. “If anyone knows anything, just tell us. I can’t take this anymore. I can’t…” She trailed off, overcome by her emotions.

The interviewer leaned forward, his expression somber. “Teresa, we understand this is incredibly difficult for you. Is there anything you’d like to say to the person or people responsible for Sophie’s disappearance?”

Teresa looked up, her eyes glistening with tears. “Just … please, if you have a heart, if you have any decency, just tell us where she is. Bring her back to me. I don’t care what happens to me, I just want my daughter back.”

Pembroke sipped on his whiskey. He could not help but feel some sympathy for her, especially as he looked at his laptop screen and saw the empty eyes of Sophie Yildiz locked in her cell as she danced, with her sequinned party dress hiked up to her waist, one hand in her panties and her other hand to her lips, sucking on her fingers. Her mother looked just like her, and Pembroke giggled to himself as he imagined the interviewer on the TV conveying a message back to Teresa, he would have said he hoped Sophie’s tits grew to be as big as her mothers.

“Sorry Mrs Yildiz” he said out loud, draining the last of his whiskey “but its finders keepers.”

He closed his laptop. “I’m just going downstairs for a while, mother, my girlfriend is calling me” he smiled. “Oh…” responded the mother, her mind jumbled and somewhere back in the 1970s.

Pembroke opened the broom cupboard door and made his way through the camouflaged stairwell, wondering if he would fuck Sophie in the ass tonight, or would he settle for some vanilla sex. His tongue licked his lips at the thought of biting into those sweet buttocks. Tomorrow he would show Sophie that documentary to show off, he loved how well his plans were turning out. Her mother, that loser Rodney Jackson, the police, he had fucked them all. Life was very, very good, he thought to himself.

🔞 Candy.AI 🔥 AI Sex Chat – Roleplay, Erotic Stories, Try for Free 🕹️

Please, Rate This Story:

(0 Votes)

By Edward Pembroke #Abuse #Rape #Teen