Sophie Yildiz is a young girl making her way through the travails of adolescence and school, when she attracts the attention of a dangerous pervert
PART 1
2013 – England
Chapter 1
Edward Pembroke grew frustrated as he tried to explain computer technology to his class of bored teenagers. Not for the first time he wondered why he had abandoned his IT career in the military and then in banking for a teaching job in a secondary school. Having to care for his mother was the answer as to why he had moved back to his family home in Norfolk.
“Sir, computers are boring, we’re not gonna do it anyway I can use my phone” said the cheeky young Sally, her blonde hair held back by an alice band, checking her nails nonchalantly, chewing gum and crossing her legs in a way that Pembroke found almost impossible to ignore. The green uniform of Willowbridge High School was very flattering on teenage girls. Sally’s green skirt rode up to the back of her thighs as she sat, and the sun shone right through her white shirt showing off the straps as they struggled to hold on to her breasts stretching the buttons on her blouse.
“Enough!” said Pembroke. “You don’t just need to work in IT to use it!” He smiled, at how it had helped him in many ways which he would never share with anyone.
The bell rang and the students marched out. Pembroke looked down for his papers to avoid perving at the bottoms of the girls passing out, their skirts swaying and their ass cheeks showing as they walked out.
Pembroke went home and attended to his sick dementia ridden mother. He was now fifty five and his mother was his only family left. How long would his mother last he wondered? The family home was spacious and he was glad to have it to himself. What most intrigued him, ever since he resigned himself to leaving his apartment in central London, was the basement which had been therefore decades. He had converted this to a gaming studio for himself. He had no real friends so there was no question of socialising in it.
His secret dream of using the basement tallied with his admiration of the young ladies who had just received his teaching. The age old fantasy, his own sex slave, down here! He had laughed at the thought, but since realising it was soundproof he had thought – why not? A few bits of minor carpentry and it could hold a prisoner.
But until now Pembroke had always satisfied his urges with prostitutes and pornography. Six feet tall, that was the only thing going for him physically. He had gone bald early, and was now tipping towards being obese. He looked like an older, fatter version of George from Seinfield but without any of the charm, some disgusted woman had told him once.
He had never had a real relationship. He didn’t really like talking to people if he was honest. And so he spent his evenings gaming or indulging his secret obsession – hacking and spying on girls in chatrooms. It was something he had learned about a few years ago and was astonished how behind the curve most software was and how lax girls could be.
Tonight, Edward was chatting as “Luke” an implausibly handsome Korean man of 19, and was talking with a girl called Lucy who was based in America. She said she was 16. Lucy was a troubled teenager stressed at school and loved to escape in chatrooms and chat with strangers. Part of her knew that Luke was probably a fraud but she was addicted to sharing her feelings with him.
Luke aka Edward Pembroke did not want to talk on camera or speak but was a good listener and his messages were very empathic. He had also managed to persuade Lucy to share some intimate photos, at first without showing her face. But he had then managed to persuade her to download some software which blurred her face in photos and videos. Pleased, she recorded herself, and sent the footage to Pembroke. Of course, Pembroke had built this software and was easily able to unblue her face from the photos and videos!
The software also allowed him to hack into her laptop and see everything about her. Lucy Seratova lived in Chicago, and he was able to see her social media and emails. He got details of all her friends, family and school. After a few weeks he now had a library of footage. While he liked Lucy and enjoyed the photos and footage of her naked, playing with herself and dancing, he now wanted to move on to other girls, and so closed for the kill.
Tonight, he had her online with her webcam turned on without her knowledge. She was clothed tonight though he was still able to record her changing, something which thrilled him more than the hardcore masturbation she had previously sent. What he was now hunting for was something confessional. Lucy found it therapeutic to speak to Luke about her friends and boys she fancied. In great detail she spoke of a boy she fancied and girls she hated, including some her friends. Pembroke smiled, this was gold and would ruin her along with the naked photos and videos.
Pembroke’s twisted hobby was recording girls and exposing them. He used dark web sites with like minded individuals across the net who liked to share and expose girls by emailing their work, their parents, their friends the photos, over and over again. Pembroke also liked to take things further if they were close… but this girl was across the Atlantic ocean.
It was 2am when Pembroke felt he had enough. Lucy wanted to talk more, but Pembroke was tired and relished the chance to find and start a new girl tomorrow, while also curating and organising the material he had on Lucy.
He went to sleep, ready for work the next day. Lucy would never hear from Luke again. In a few days however, her world would be turned upside down forever. Pembroke slept soundly in the knowledge of what he was going to do.
Chapter 2
On the same day, schoolgirls of a similar age to Edward Pembroke’s pupils were babbling loudly in a London street. Sophie Yildiz stood outside the corner store, her friends gathered around her, their voices a cacophony of excitement and mischief. She shifted uncomfortably, her fingers twisting the strap of her backpack as Emma, the self-appointed leader of the group, egged her on.
“Come on, Sophie, don’t be such a baby,” Emma teased, her tone laced with impatience. “It’s just a stupid bottle of vodka. If you take it, we can come drink it at your mum’s next week for your birthday.”
Sophie’s stomach churned with unease. Turning fourteen was supposed to be a milestone, a moment of celebration and joy. But as her friends prodded and teased, she felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on her.
Sophie Yildiz was a shy girl. Her pretty looks should have given her confidence but at just thirteen she was too pretty to be ignored, enough to evoke jealousy from her female friends who were exasperated when they noticed the boys looking at Sophie and not them.
With a shaky breath, Sophie succumbed to the pressure, her fingers darting out to snatch the bottle of vodka from the shelf. As she slipped it into her backpack, a wave of guilt washed over her, but she pushed it aside, desperate to please her friends.
The walk home was a blur of nervous energy and tangled emotions. When Sophie stepped through the door of her small apartment, the smell of her mother’s cooking enveloped her in warmth. Her mother greeted her with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Sophie’s Turkish father had left them years ago for another woman and currently had another family in Turkey. Her mother was working class English woman from whom she had got her red hair. They lived in a council flat in a tower in north east London.
“Guess what, Sophie? I’ve been thinking about your birthday next week,” her mother exclaimed. “We should throw a little party, invite your friends over for some cake and games.”
Sophie’s heart sank at the mention of her friends. She nodded weakly, unable to meet her mother’s gaze, the truth was that her friends bullied her, and the idea of a party in her house with her friends terrified her. ‘Cake and games’ was not what her friends were interested in. It was boys, and alcohol, like the vodka she had stolen.
The days crawled by, each one marked by a sense of impending doom. The inevitable failure of her birthday party would just reveal to her mother the fact that she had no friends, which was really all she wanted.
The morning of Sophie’s fourteenth birthday dawned and she tried to be optimistic. Her older sister, Jenny, at seventeen. She had no interest in hanging out with a bunch of fourteen year olds. She would have her boyfriend, Clem, and his car, to occupy her.
“Happy birthday Sophie!” beamed Ms Grey, their English teacher. “Hope you have something exciting planned!” Sophie’s face burned with embarrassment, she was sitting at the front of the class, and she could hear the giggles behind her.
“Hi Emma” Sophie said to the ringleader of the ‘gang’ of girls she normally hung around with. “Are you coming to my place after school, I got the vodka remember?”
“Sure thing Soph” Emma blew up some bubble gum intimidatingly as she looked into Sophie’s face. Emma was secretly jealous of her features. Despite her shyness, at five foot three, Sophie was pretty. Pale skin, freckles, and a slim waif like figure were crowned with pale blue eyes and ginger hair. Sophie thought herself a redhead but was often mocked for being a “ginger.” Her fiery locks and alabaster skin contrasted to give her a stunning look though her fragility and natural shyness made her a target for bullies like Emma, a plumper blonde who would have loved to look like Sophie.
But at the end of the day, Sophie walked home alone. She was too shy to chase her friends and hoped instead they would go straight to her house. But no one came at all. Instead, on her group chat, which she hardly ever went on, she saw group selfies and noted Emma and several other friends were at another friend’s house, instead of her ‘party.’
Sophie’s mother, Anne, had made a birthday cake for Sophie and her ‘friends.’ “Oh Sophie, you should have organised it a bit better” scolded her mother. “A pretty girl like you! You need to come out of your shell!” Sophe felt humiliated, and could not face her mother’s exasperated tone. Her sister Jenny laughed when she heard none of her friends had turned up. “No friends, eh? You need to ger yourself a man with a car!”
“Jenny! She’s too young for that carry on!” scolded Anne.
Sophie went up to her room. Adorned with posters of boybands and Kpop girl bands, she sought comfort in her own little world. She went online and into her favourite chatrooms. Suddenly, she remembered the bottle of vodka, and found it was still in her school bag.
Why not? She was now fourteen, and while it may be the worst birthday party ever, she might as well have some adult experience. She found the taste disgusting, and took some cola from the kitchen up to her room, mixed it with vodka, and drank the vodka and coke while listening to he music, and swiping through her favourite chatrooms.
Strange boys always wanted to chat and turn the conversation sexual. Sometimes Sophie indulged them a little but mostly she just blocked them. She dreamt of having a real boyfriend she could cuddle with. She watched porn but was horrified at some of the things men did to women. Her friends boasted vaguely about having sex but Sophie had never so much as kissed a boy. She had a very good figure, and if a bit taller could grow to be a model. Her sister Jenny was slightly taller wit the same hair and complexion and sweet smile, with more curves and fuller breasts. Sophie was part jealous and part terrified of growing into such a sexual looking figure.
The betrayal of her friends, the loneliness and the unhelpful response of her mother made her drink more of the vodka. She imagined herself in a revealing dress with a confident handsome boy at a disco and disrobed herself to her bra and knickers and looked at herself in the mirror. She took a selfie, then quickly deleted it in embarrassment. The thought of anyone seeing her even half naked terrified her. Some of the boys had shared naked pictures of some girls at school and the girls had had to leave the school to go elsewhere, the shame was so much.
She put on a T shirt and sat at the laptop humming to the music and started chatting to more guys. She laughingly sent some pictures of her body with her face well hidden and the compliments of the anonymous internet perverts made her feel better.
As the drink started having its effect, Sophie started to enjoy herself. Her mother was in her bedroom, drinking wine, which was no increasingly common, and her sister was going to stay out with her current new mysterious boyfriend. As more men sent her messages complimenting her and telling what they wanted to do to her, she watched some porn and began slipping her fingers into her panties. She watched some of the cam girls on screen, and envied them their freedom and lack of embarrassment. Lubricated by vodka she fantasised about showing herself off to the horny men online, but kept telling herself how utterly life ending that would be if anyone had found out!
One profile kept piquing her interest. “Luke” a Kpop looking guy who resembled the lead singer of her favourite band. As if by magic, that Kpop song came on her headphones. “Maybe its destiny” she smiled and started to chat.
He didn’t want to talk or appear on camera but she didn’t mind. He wasn’t rude and did not demand her to come on to the camera or talk filthy. He was respectful and after a few minutes she decided to type about her awful birthday.
“A girl like you should never celebrate her birthday alone. A shame I am thousands of miles away, we could hand out in Gagnam tonight!”
Sophie smiled. She would love to go to Korea. The alcohol softened her instincts that this was an obvious fake profile and instead she indulged herself in fantasy. The profile asked her to sing Kpop songs, and teased her that she could be a Kpop singer. Sophie blushed and tried on some risqué Kpop style outfits she had bought but never worn. She took some faceless photos and sent them to Luke.
Meanwhile Edward Pembroke sat in front of his computer, naked, stroking his cock. The link Sophie Yildiz had clicked, sent by Luke, enabled Pembroke to hack into her laptop and operate her webcam. Pembroke liked what he saw. A slim, beautiful teenage redhead with a very cute smile with great teeth and cute dimples. He spied on her changing, casually recording it. He did not see much but enough to see she was not overly freckled, her skin was pure white, from he could see from her legs and back as she changed. He loved how her nose scrunched up as she laughed at Luke’s compliments about her Kpop singing voice.
Eventually, Pembroke came, he looked down past his flabby stomach to the cum plastered over his sweaty thighs. If anyone walked in, they would see a thoroughly repulsive sight. Looking back up he saw the smiling pretty face of Sophie. Laughing to himself, he told Sophie he had to call it a day as he was off to classes (it was still afternoon in Korea, and keeping up timezone pretences often meant very late nights chatting to horny European teenagers).
Pembroke said goodbye to Sophie, who continued humming happily to he music. She had enjoyed the chat and bookmarked Luke to chat to again.
Pembroke took a last look at Lucy Seratova before closing his computer down. It had been a few days since her videos, pictures and confession had been blasted across the internet. Several other like minded twisted individuals had helped Pembroke in locating good sources for sending the material too.
Lucy had disappeared from social media. He could see from the forums he frequented, catering to this kind of thing, that there were screenshots of distressed family members pleading for the material to be deleted, and how Lucy was now feeling awful. And there were also local posts talking about Lucy Seratova had been shared, naked, and badmouthing her friends. She was not popular!
Pembroke smiled again, at the updates on the forums. He knew this was a sick and twisted hobby, but he could not help the beast inside him that made him do this.
Chapter 3
Sophie woke up the next day with a splitting headache. How on earth did people drink alcohol? She was hungover but wanted to hide it from her mother.
“Sophie? What the fuck you’ll be late for school!” shouted her mother into her room. Sophie quickly got dressed, she quickly threw on some clothes and underwear and her school uniform. As she went out she suddenly remembered her gym kit for hockey after school
Sophie felt awful at school. She could see the girls giggling at her, talking loudly about how much fun they had at their party last night. They sang “birthday girl” at her and avoided talking with her at lunch.
Some boys went up to Sophie to chat with her. Her shyness and beauty made the girls envious and want to pick on her but the boys didn’t mind. One boy, Charlie, played rugby and joked with her. The other girls saw this and got jealous. Emma and Naila, two of the ringleader girls , went up to afterwards and asked about the vodka.
“Er, I still have it” lied Sophie. He had finished all of it last night.
“You should have brought it today. We were going to drink it after hockey. You’re good at stealing, we’ll get you to do some more for us.”
“No!” shouted Sophie, offended. “I only did it because you said you’d come to my party and you never did!”
“Did anyone come?” asked Emma, teasingly. Sophie refused to answer. “Stuck up bitch” said Emma after her. Sophie walked away with her head down. She hated school. “White bitch!” shouted another girl across the playground. Christine was the leader of a group of black girls, and for some reason they hated Sophie alone. Sophie also got hate for being half Turkish and got called a “Paki” despite looking so white and red haired. She couldn’t win with these girls. Some of the boys were nice but she was both shy and nervous of some of them and did not like how they tried looking up her skirt in class.
Later in the changing rooms, Sophie panicked when she realised that, while still drunk from the vodka this morning, she had thrown on a pair of bright orange ‘my little pony’ knickers. She tried to change quickly, but Emma was looking out for her.
“Oh my Days!” shouted Emma. “Check out Sophie, look at all the ginger hair down there!” She cackled and the other girls joined in. Sophie cringed, her panties were years old and much too small for her. They were the same color as her hair and she worried that her pubic hair might show which would be mortifying. She quickly pulled on her hockey skirt.
“No wait, come on bitch let’s see those knickers” Emma shouted, and suddenly three girls grabbed her and pulled her skirt down. They all howled with laughter at her cute little knickers. “Here hold her I’m gonna take a pic on my phone!” another girl, Liz, whipped out a camera phone and tried to get it ready while Sophie struggled against the grip of the other girls in just her bra and knickers. Suddenly another gang of Asian girls came across and knocked the phone out of Liz’s hands. “Fuck off you bitch” they shouted at her. They had no love for Sophie either but didn’t like the white girls being loud. More pushing and shoved happened but the girls still held on to Sophie’s arms and she could not get away.
Suddenly the PE teacher, Ms Ward, came in. Everyone stopped everything. The girls all stood still in their hockey uniforms leaving only Sophie alone. Ms Ward stared at the teenage girls all in black and white hockey uniforms with one red haired girl clad in nothing but white bra and bright red knickers in the middle. “Sophie Yildiz what are you doing! Making a spectacle of yourself, go and get into some clothes now!”
Sophie was grateful for the intervention and quickly got into her uniform. The rest of the practice consisted of the girls slyly hitting her with hockey sticks until her legs were bruised. She tried to avoid crying, but sobbed to herself on the bus home while still in her hockey uniform as she had not dared to change with the girls. She realised an old man was, while she was busy crying, looking up her skirt, no doubt feasting his eyes on the bright orange panties that had caused such a fuss. Sophie crossed her legs quickly, and in the end ran to her flat.
Her mother was getting ready to go out for the night on a date. She was wearing a very short low cut dress. “Gosh Sophie, you look rough! You should quit that hockey haha” Sophie guessed she had a few drinks already. Her sister Jenny was not around, she had not yet come back from her boyfriend’s place.
Sophie went into her room and closed the door. She stripped off, and sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. The tight orange panties gripped her hips, but there was no body fat to spill over them. Her taut toned stomach was concave as it dipped into the waistband, her faint red pubic hair was not showing over the top. Her camel toe was clearly visible though. She slipped off her bra and noticed her breasts were starting to swell but were still currently an A cup. Soon she would be a C cup like Jenny. She saw the bruises gather on her legs and cursed her schoolmates.
She threw on a hoodie and curled up in front of her laptop. She remembered her chats from yesterday and cringed at the memory. She knew, however, that she had not sent any identifiable nude photos or videos out, even when drunk. That would have been awful! She was so grateful the girls had not managed to photo her in the changing room as well. She knew the price of dignity and was determined to preserve it. She did not approve of her sister or her mother going out with strange men and wanted to have a straight, decent partner for a boyfriend and had no interest in losing her virginity before she was eighteen.
As she started chatting , the sex talk disgusted her. She was about to log off when she saw the “Happy birthday” message from Luke.
Pembroke had an uneventful day. It was spring and the girls were flowering in their short skirts. It was 2011 and Pembroke could not believe how blasé the school was about the danger of recording the girls. Pembroke had originally promised himself to do nothing in his school despite the temptations. But he had experimented with cameras hidden under the blackboard which looked up the girls’ skirts. He had also managed to plant a camera in the girls’ changing rooms but took it back after just one day as he was terrified someone would find it, and it was hard to justify going in and out of there even out of school hours! He had some decent footage, but he could not upload it as it would identify him as the culprit, even the changing room scenes.
To make up for the fact he was passing on a feast of teenage flesh every day, since moving back to his mother’s house he had thrown himself into the world of encapturing young women online. And in some cases, he had gone even further than with poor Lucy Seretova.
Tonight, after dealing with his mother’s dinner and toilet, he was going to concentrate on Afshan Bharwani. Afshan was twenty, and a university law student and in theory a practising muslim. She had also gone on chatrooms while recovering from her studies and trying to wind down. Pembroke had used the same tricks of being a sympathetic ear, pretending to be Bilal, a good muslim from Egypt.
Afshan had been chaste with Bilal and agreed she should not hear his voice or see him and she liked the typing back and forth. Pembroke liked the challenge of learning about Egypt, Islam and Arabic while continuing to fool Afshan. This was like fishing, he went after many girls but only a few ever bit back, and of them, only a few were ever recorded to any large degree. And of them, some could not be identified and thus threatened, or they did not care. Pembroke found these the most disappointing of all, the girl who laughed at him when he threatened to send out their nudes.
Afshan was very different to this. She had at first appeared in normal clothes, and then in her underwear in front of him. One night, when she had thought she had shut down the webcam, she had gotten naked and masturbated while she talked to him about what an ideal husband should be like. This was gold dust to Pembroke.
A few nights ago, Pembroke had sent Afshan a message, attaching her nude photos and videos, and the list of all her friends and contacts and a list of law firms she wanted to apply to. Tonight, she was to appear to him on webcam in her underwear to listen to his “demands.”
Pembroke was thrilled to see her, she was downcast in her bedroom, hugging her shoulders, her legs crossed but otherwise was in a bra and modest pair of pants. “The interview has begun, Afshan, please uncross your legs and put your hands to your side.”
Afshan’s eyes teared up. She thought at least that this footage would show her being honourable and trying to get out of this. She had contemplated suicide but thought she would do this before making a final decision. The shame this would bring on her family would be awful. She spread her legs on her bed and put her hands on the tops of her thighs.
Pembroke smiled. He was naked, but wanted to play this carefully. “You have two choices. You can either ignore my next request, or you can have your footage back and I will identify myself with a promise I will not share this, and if I do you can track me down and have me arrested.”
In truth, posting her material was not a criminal offence in 2011. But blackmail was. And so Afshan was hopeful there was a way out but dreaded hearing what the request would be.
“I want to meet you in person. I don’t get out much and I want to have sex with a young woman like you. Nothing rough, just an hour in a hotel room.”
Afshan remained looking on the verge of tears. It was not something she had not expected. “How do I know this will be the end of it?”
“You have to trust me. If you don’t meet me you will never know who I am. I don’t want to ruin your life Afshan. I just want to touch you a little. Are you a virgin?”
“Yes” said Afshan quietly. Her shoulders and head slumped down. She heaved slightly causing her breasts to rise and fall in her tasteful black bra.
“Good. Well, no one will know, they can’t check that kind of thing you know. No one will know you’re not a virgin and no one will see your videos. How’s that?”
Afshan started to cry. “Shhhh” said Pembroke, using his real voice down the microphone. He did not want her to disturb her parents. They would probably talk sense into her, tell her that she had done nothing wrong and ignore him and he would have no leverage.
“Tomorrow then” said Pembroke. “I know where you live. I am going to book somewhere near your flat. You will leave home tomorrow to go to class but today you will skip it or at least miss a lecture. You are going to earn your dignity eh!”
The conversation went on. Pembroke was very clear that any sign of a deal broken by Afshan would result in her material being leaked online. He knew he had a good target. She would be too ashamed to seek help from anyone, he was safe.
Afshan stayed sitting on the edge of her bed listening to him on headphones in her bra and pants for the next twenty minutes while Pembroke went through what was expected of her. She swallowed when he insisted that she remove all body hair, making reference to the material he already had of her. “You are a gorgeous girl, but I don’t like any body hair, so make sure that nice dark pussy of yours is completely clear OK? And you asshole as well! I will be checking every inch of that hot body of yours!”
He let Afshan go to bed and try to enjoy a sleepless night of terror before tomorrow. Pembroke had the day off for a conference in the afternoon and was looking forwards to seeing the city after deflowering this unfortunate young thing in the morning.
He knew he should go to be as he had an early start but had learned the value of multi tasking. He logged on as “Luke” and quickly messaged some girls he had, some were further on the process of being entangled than others. Sophie caught his eye, and he asked how her day had gone after her birthday disaster.
Pembroke brought a basin of hot water, and managed to shave his crack balls and cock while chatting with Sophie. Sophie would have vomited at the sight on the other side of the screen if she could see it, but instead still imagined a confident young Korean. Pembroke thought of how he would force Afshan to suck his smooth cock tomorrow morning, while shaving down there with one hand and typing out consolation messages to Sophie with the other.
Sophie opened up about her terrible day and showed the webcam her bruised legs. Pembroke was interested to see how she had no shame in lifting her legs revealing her tight orange panties under her grey hoodie. Was it carelessness or flirting? Pembroke advised her on avoiding the bullies and how she would one day leave school and be much more successful in the outside world. Pembroke was pleased she was being so open and got a torrent of information about her sister and her mother, but really needed some sleep so made his excuses. Sophie was a little disappointed, she wanted to chat more, and she looked forward to more chats in the near future. Pembroke went to bed and set his alarm for 5.30, fondling his smooth genitalia in bed. He was so horny but wanted to save his cum for Afshan tomorrow. He wondered if he could now work as a psychologist, he had heard so much confessional bullshit from girls, he smiled to himself.
Chapter 4
The following morning, Sophie awoke with her legs bruised and showing purple marks after yesterday’s hockey match. She put on some black tights to cover them up, and hoped to get through the day. Afshan awoke in her family home in East London and spent time carefully shaving her body hair and putting on the underwear Pembroke had picked out last night. She recalled the misery of standing in bra and knickers, knowing she was recorded, and having to hold up different pairs of underwear to the webcam for his approval. She put on the light green satin panties and matching bra which matched well with her dark Pakistani skin, and then put on some conservative muslim clothing including her hijab. She stifled a cry as she kissed her father good morning. During the night, she had cut her arms and thighs, a habit she had grown out, or thought she had. She told herself that if she went through with this, there was a chance her nightmare would end. This bastard who had tormented her for weeks might leave her alone.
Edward Pembroke was groggy on the train to London, and had to plan for the conference as well as for the meeting with Afshan. He got to the hotel room early, it was a small complex near a tube station. He put up some hidden cameras ready to record everything, then sat in a café opposite the hotel and texted Afshan.
“Hi Afshan, come to Bermondsey tube station, be here for 9.30 and I will tell you where to go from there.” He munched on a croissant and coffee. He waited and later directed Afshan down to the hotel. He watched her walk alone and was satisfied this should be straightforward.
Pembroke had attempted a slight disguise. He wore thick rimmed glasses, and dark black contact lenses. He reasoned it was the best he could do if he wanted to actually meet these girls. What were the chances Afshan would recognise him again without glasses and different eye color? And what would she do? He had told himself he needed to live a little dangerously to have some fun.
There was no reception at this part of the hotel and Pembroke already had his card. “Hello Afshan” he smiled. She jumped, and looked at him with terror. “Now calm down Afshan, let’s go through with this, and soon it will all be over.”
They walked up wordlessly to the room. He opened the door for her like a gentleman. “Now, I think you should strip to your underwear now we are inside” he said commandingly. He had figured Afshan out to be a little on the timid side and he was right. Shaking, she removed all her clothes and stood in bra and panties.
“Now lie face down and let me massage you. Do not move from that position, yes” he said pleasantly. Afshan lay face down on the pillow, while Pembroke admired her plump upturned tan buttocks coming out of the tight light green underwear. He stripped himself, and then ran his hands over her body. She was incredibly tense. He snapped her bra off and he felt her shaking, and as he reached his hands under her chest to cup her breasts, he heard her crying into the pillow. He ignored her and ran his tongue down her spine. He enjoyed the taste of her skin, like citrus.
“Hmmm, you don’t taste like curry yet haha” he told her “I suppose I should withhold judgement until I eat what is between your legs!”
Afshan grabbed the pillow and pushed her face into it. Pembroke touched her buttocks and admired the smooth taugtness of them, and ran his fingers along the crease of each buttock until they met at the gusset of her panties. He pushed his face into her ass and felt the satin rub over him. After lavering the area with his tongue, he grew frustrated with the smell of the satin and yanked her knickers down, pulled her ass cheeks wide apart, prompting her to squeal, and drove his tongue deep into her crack. He feasted like a hungry wolf on a carcass, her asshole, her pussy all got attention. He realised he needed to spread her, so pulled the knickers right down past her ankles, and slapped her ass loudly.
“Up on all fours! You can keep your face in the pillow if you like!”
She hopped her knees up under her and spread them, and Pembroke was presented with her full asshole and pussy stretched wide in front of him, hairless as he had demanded. He twisted her to one side, hoping she would not suspect why, but it was because he wanted the camera from behind his left shoulder to fully capture the glory of her ass in the air. He spent ten minutes licking her out, her bumhole and pussy and chewed on her clit.
Afshan had never kissed another man and felt her body betray her. His tongue in her asshole was not something she had expected to happen. She tried to scream when he put his finger up there but he shushed her. “I won’t fuck you in the asshole darling don’t worry. This will be normal straight sex don’t worry. Now turn over.”
She turned around and lay still as a robot while he dipped his head down between her thighs, and then moved to her breasts suckling on her nipples. He moved to kiss her, but she shook her head and turned away. Oh well, he reasoned, you can’t have everything. Eventually, he put on his condom while working some lubricant into her virgin vagina. Afshan still cried with her head to the side, her hands tugging on the sheets, as Pembroke forced his six inch cock inside her. His head bobbed alongside hers, he breathed in her neck and hair until eventually he came.
After a few moments, he got up, and started putting his clothes on. “No, you stay naked until I get dressed first.” He said “Oh and one final thing, those green underwear, give them to me, they are mine now.”
Afshan had no desire to keep them and handed them over. She then dressed herself. She wanted to get out as quickly as she could but was a little suspicious why he seemed happy to stay. “I want to shower here” he said “so go on, get back to college or whatever. Now, we have met and you met me, well I give you my word I will delete your files and I will not expose you. Oh, here it is…”
He handed over a CD along with a USB stick. “This is for you” he said. Afshan took it gingerly. She was not stupid, if he wanted he would have a back up. She just had to trust him. “Look I have done what you asked OK, just please leave me alone. I will leave you alone.” Afshan tried not to make it sound threatening.
Pembroke smiled as she was now in her conservative muslim dress. “Yes, you are right. Good luck in your studies and career Ms Bharwani, may our paths never cross again. I hope in time you will enjoy this memory!”
Afshan left in disgust, she broke down in tears several times on the way out on the street. Pembroke did not take a shower. Instead, he quickly took down the hidden cameras and brought them out with him. He got the tube into central London and wondered what to do until the conference. He had Afshan’s lingerie in his suit pocket. He did not plan on exposing Afshan any time soon. Maybe in 10 years, or 15 years if she was a successful lawyer, it might be fun, but in the meantime, he would be magnimonious, he smiled to himself, thinking himself a noble human being.
Sophie had an uneventful day at school though had to run the gauntlet of wolf whistles from men when she got off the bus. She could not believe that grown men would do this. She came home to find her mum and sister in the living room. They ignored her and each other, playing on their phones. Sophie got bored with the TV, and tried to read but couldn’t. She went online but got bored. Luke was not online.
Pembroke enjoyed the rest of his conference. He noted that he had one final thing to do while he was in London. That night, before getting the last train back to Norfolk, he went to a coffee shop near Liverpool Street. He had planned Afshan in the morning and this event for now, because he knew his target would be working here now.
For months he had groomed a young 22 year old Polish girl, Kasia Kebowska. He had got naked photos of Kasia and then some sex videos from her own laptop which he had hacked into. He had managed to blackmail her and had emailed her with a list of friends and family who would be sent the footage.
Kasia had angrily rejected him and then went quiet. Pembroke stayed clear of boisterous strong minded girls who could, he thought, stand up for themselves. But he had a hunch that Kasia was weak and vulnerable and thought it worth pushing at her to hype up the threat.
He went to the coffee shop and ordered a coffe. He recognised Kasia behind the counter though she did not serve him. As he drank his coffee, he took some photos of Kasia. He then took an envelope from his pocket marked “For Kasia”. When he saw Kasia disappear from the front of the shop, he went to her colleague, and told her the envelope was for her. He then walked briskly out of the coffee shop and towards the train station.
Kasia Kowalska had been foolish. She had chatted online with some strange man, and never even talked much, but somehow he had hacked into her laptop. He had obtained numerous naked selfies and sex videos she had kept personal to herself and which, she thought, were safely kept in her own computer. She was horrified when she received the messages showing them, and even a link showing they were online.
The person messaging her had demanded an online “interview” to discuss the matter further where she had to be on webcam. She ignored this, and tried to put it out of her head. Maybe it was a joke, she thought. That night, her manager came to her and handed her an envelope. A middle aged man, wearing a hat and glasses, had given it to him. When she looked, he was already gone.
She took the envelope to the staff room and open it. Inside it were printouts of her naked, stills and photos. There was a CD, USB stick, and photographs of her parents, her brother, and her school friends she was still in contact with in Poland.
Kasia nearly had a panic attack. She read the letter inside.
“Dear Kasia
I have not heard from you regarding my proposal for an online interview. I wish to talk with you further and see you in the flesh, if only online. I hope you are not ignoring me. Ignoring this issue will not help as you can see from the enclosed documents. I would like to keep this between the two of us and not involve your family and friends. Your future employers might also be interested. I have noted you are studying marketing. May I remind you that such a career can be severely hampered by improper material such as what you have made of yourself.
I hope that by reaching out in this way I can convince you that this matter requires your grave and urgent attention. There is a straightforward solution to the problem and I need to discuss this with you by a webcam interview. I shall remain anonymous for now however I think it is best, given the current circumstances, that you are prepared to appear naked for the interview, during which we will discuss the solution to this problem.
I have your number and will shortly text you. On this occasion you WILL text back and arrange a suitable time for this interview to take place.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Your admirer”
Kasia ran to the toilets and threw up. She told her manager she was unwell and went home and cried. She was too ashamed to ask anyone for help and cried herself to sleep. What could she do? She would have to answer this monster.
Afshan went to bed praying that her act of sacrifice would save herself and her family from humiliation. Kasia prayed for God to tell her what to do. Sophie fell asleep bored, her fingers in her pussy again as she fantasised about the perfect boyfriend, and about an exciting life beyond playground bullies and London council estate life. Edward Pembroke went to bed very late after getting back and taking care of his mother. He had added Afshan’s underwear to his personal treasure trove. He had texted Kasia and waited for a response but was not gasping at the bit for her, he had others. He also wondered about his new target, Sophie Yildiz. He fell into a deep contented sleep.
Chapter 5
The next day was Friday. Pembroke had another full day of teaching but the lack of sleep was starting to get to him. He was careful not stare at the girls but one beautiful sixth former, Lucy O’Hara, did remind him of Sophie and he looked forward to cultivating her further.
He went home and had to deal with his mother who was now nagging and confused. After several hours, he was finally able to indulge himself in the basement. He checked his special burner phones and saw he had a text from Kasia. “We talk tomorrow morning at 11am” and it left details of her skype. Pembroke was pleased, he could easily use a fake Skype account to do what was needed.
He thought of his girls. He brought out Afshan’s underwear and sniffed it deeply. He would spend a couple of hours editing and finalising a video of Afshan and him having sex. He did not have any intention of exposing at least not yet. He still had her compartmentalised however, with her family details, just in case he changed his mind. He had a sense of honour that she had upheld her part of the deal.
He was annoyed with this Kasia, and didn’t’ want to even bother with the blackmail interview, but just go straight to releasing the material to her family and friends and send it to his darkweb friends who loved to destroy girls’ lives with their nudes. But he felt it his duty to make an effort to compel her to do more. Depending on how difficult she came across, he might suggest they have sex, like with Afshan, but if he suspected she would be too much trouble, then he would expose her instead. He did not want to leave her unattended and felt it a point of pride that once a girl was in his sights, he did not let go easily until he had got what he wanted and (usually) her life was ruined.
He has some more prospects. There were some American girls and more English girls. There was a Korean girl however she was boring him to death and he could not tell who was in her family or not, so was going to drop her.
Sophie was relieved the week was over. She managed to avoid the girls and avoided having to admit she had no plans for the weekend. Some of the boys, however, had tried photographing up her skirt. She had closed her legs quickly and then chased them for the photo. Walking home, an old man had stopped her, and asked her how her period felt.
When she got home, she saw with horror that her mother had a black eye.
“Its Paul, he got upset, it’s my fault really” she said, about to cry. Her sister Jenny was calling her a useless bitch who let men walk all over her. Sophie didn’t want to hear about it but was worried about her mother and about her boyfriend Paul. Would Paul come here and hit her as well?
She shut herself in her room. She checked messages, and was sent a photo from a group, it was of her, shouting at a bunch of boys. At least no one could see up her skirt she thought. But she cursed those boys and the girls who sent it. Emma and the others were horrible bullies who were making her life miserable.
She tried to stay in watching TV with her mum. Jenny went out again. Her mother started crying and Sophie felt awkward. Her mum began drinking and eventually went to bed. Sophie went to bed herself, she did not chat online tonight, instead just stayed within her own thoughts, wondering what the future would bring.
Afshan Bharwani stayed up praying and crying. Her vagina hurt from the sex that morning, and she spent an hour in the shower trying to get Pembroke’s odour off her. She hoped that she would never hear from the monster ever again.
Kasia Kowalska went out and got drunk with her friends. She got into a fight with bouncers and her friends could not understand where her rage came from. She was furious about this stranger who held this power over her and was angrily looking forward to confronting him tomorrow.
The following morning, Pembroke completed his porn movie of him and Afshan. He watched the video with her knickers in his hand, periodically sniffing them. He then turned to his “interview” with Kasia.
Kasia came online. Pembroke’s camera was off and he spoke in a disguised voice which read out whatever he typed. His connection was secure and untraceable. Kasia was fully dressed, which annoyed him.
“Kasia I thought we were clear. You do not wear clothes now. Take them off please.”
“Fuck off you creep, I am just talking to you now to tell you Im going to the police and Im recording you. What the fuck do you want anyway?”
Pembroke smiled, he knew his call would be untraceable and did not fear the police right now. “You have two choices. Do as I say, or I release the nudes, I have everything ready for your parents first, then your siblings, uncles aunts. Wow, you have a big family! And I have a long memory as do my friends. Your future employers will be getting this in a few years’ time. Don’t think you can disappear Kasia.”
“Fuck you, you pyshopath, leave me the fuck alone! Come near me and I will kill you!” Kasia was angry. Pembroke sighed. This had not gone well, there was no way he would feel comfortable meeting her for sex so what did she have left?
“As a token of friendship, to avoid me sending these off today, you will take your clothes off now for a few minutes, to say sorry.”
“FUCK OFF! I will do nothing!” she shouted into the screen, her angry face frightening him. Pembroke started drafting the email and became silent.
“Send it to whoever, don’t care”
More silence.
Finally Kasia broke down in tears.
“Please, please do not send those pictures and videos. Please….”
“I did nothing to anyone, you took them from my laptop, why are you doing this to me?”
More silence.
Kasia cried, tears flowing down her face. She did not, however, take off any clothes.
Pembroke pressed “SEND” and an email from a secure traceless account was sent to a series of accounts. Later he would work on sending her data to the dark web sites where enthusiastic hobbyists would send her friends links to her material on porn sites.
“Ms Kowalska, when you have children, which I hope you do, I would advise you to get them used to the idea they will see you naked sooner rather than later. It is a pity, but you are going to have to tell them why their friends are showing them videos of mummy getting fucked in the ass”
“Fuck you” said Kasia, quietly, tears streaming down now.
Pembroke admired her somewhat but honour permitted he had to go through with this. Girls had to be aware of the reality of what could happen, if only, for Pembroke’s sake that they would go through with any blackmail threats.
Pembroke terminated the call. He spent the next hour finalising getting her data on the dark web sites and his anonymous friends would do the rest. After all that, he felt dirty and felt like doing something less grotty so went for a long walk.
Sophie spent her Saturday alone, in the park. It was spring and she brought her MP3 player and phone with her. She wore a light pink skirt and white t shirt which complimented her light complexion and her red coloring. Boys still pestered her, and one old man even tried to pull her into some bushes but she brushed him off. She hated being a girl, she thought. She wished she had friends.
In Chicago, the parents of Lucy Seratova were at the local hospital to see their daughter who had just taken an overdose of sleeping pills. She was alive, barely, and they talked to her and promised they would make things better. The family resolved to leave Chicago so that Lucy could have a fresh start somewhere else in the country, to get away from the terrible impact the nude footage and photos had made on their lives.
Kasia Kowalska spent the rest of Saturday speaking tearfully with parents and friends, explaining to them that someone had hacked into her computer and that was why they were being inundated with videos of her having sex. She thought of her future children and that horrible man’s words. She wanted to find him and kill him. Afshan Bharwani spent another day hoping and praying that she would not get a fateful phone call from her family about receiving strange photos and videos.
Sophie read the group chats on Sunday and thought maybe she should tag along to some of the get togethers they were talking about. She tentatively texted the group but got back one word response. “Vodka.”
Sophie sighed. She said she could get some for a party on Wednesday night but at last she was invited somewhere! Monday back at school she was faced with the usual bullies who demanded to know what had happened with the bottle of vodka. Sophie decided she would try and shoplift another bottle.
After school, she went to the same shop. It was an Asian shop run by an old Indian man and his son.
As Sophie nervously entered the shop, her heart raced with anticipation mixed with fear. She glanced around, trying to appear inconspicuous as she made her way to the alcohol aisle. With trembling hands, she grabbed a bottle of vodka and swiftly tucked it under her jacket, attempting to conceal it from view.
Unbeknownst to Sophie, the old Indian man behind the counter had been keeping a close eye on her every move. Not least because he was transfixed by her smooth pale legs coming from her short skirt. Mr Singh loved perving over the schoolgirls. As she attempted to sneak out of the shop, he called out in a firm voice, “Young lady, what do you think you’re doing?”
Startled, Sophie froze in her tracks, her heart sinking as she turned to face the shopkeeper. The embarrassment flooded her cheeks as she realized she had been caught red-handed.
“I-I…” Sophie stammered, her mind racing for an
excuse that wouldn’t come.
The shopkeeper’s expression softened, but his eyes held a stern
glint as he beckoned her to approach the counter. “Stealing is never the
answer, young one,” he said in a gentle yet authoritative tone. “It
brings nothing but shame and regret.”
Feeling a wave of guilt wash over her, Sophie slowly approached
the counter, her head bowed in shame. Mr Singh looked around to check that no
one else was in the shop. “Now, you could get into serious trouble, theft is a
serious crime. Do you want to be expelled or have your parents speak to the
police?”
Sophie was shaking, “no please, sir, I was just trying to get this for some other girls…”
“They made you do it eh?” Mr Singh asked appraisingly. “Do you normally do what other people tell you to do?”
“I don’t, I mean, they forced me to…”
Mr Singh took another look to check no one was coming in, and another look at Sophie. She was everything he fantasised about, young pale, freckled, blue eyes red hair. His eyes dropped to her waist and he wondered if he could feel her pelvic bones sticking out through her skirt she seemed so slim.
“Maybe you have something else, eh? I think you need to come in the back with me…”
Before she knew it, Sophie was being escorted into the back room while Mr Singh quickly locked the front door. Sophie protested her innocence, but as soon as they were past the partition going out of the shop, Mr Singh, put his finger to her lips.
“Shhhh, you just stay quiet. This is because you have been a very bad girl.” With that he crouched down, and ran his hands up her legs from her ankles, past her knees, and up her thighs and her skirt. Sophie froze and her eyes bulged out of her head. Mr Singh, rubbed her crotch through her panties. “Are you hiding anything in here?” he asked. He looked up and slowly worked a finger inside the hem of her panties.
Sophie grabbed his hand “No, please sir, please let me go…”
Mr Singh stood up, and grabbed her left breast, and pushed her against the wall. “OK I am satisfied, but next time….”
Sophie ran out of the shop, picked her bag up and ran home. She was horrified to see Paul, her mother’s boyfriend there, he was the last person she wanted to meet.
Paul was drunk, as was her mother, who was falling asleep. Paul’s eyes turned on Sophie like a wolf on a sheep. He literally licked his lips and looked up and down her body. Sophie backed away and went into her room.
A few minutes later, there was a knock. It was Paul. He was well over six foot, with a beard and his alcohol breath she could smell from her bed.
“You are as pretty as your mum!” He slurred. He sat on the edge of her bed. Sophie drew herself into the foetel position under the covers. She wished she had more on than just her nightie and her knickers underneath. Paul slipped his hand under the covers “Can I sleep here, its much more comfortable.”
Sophie stayed still again, as he crept up and hugged her. Suddenly the door opened, it was her mother. “Paul what the fuck are you doing?”
Paul jumped up “Nothing, just tucking her in, you know…”
“You fucking scumbag she is only fourteen!”
Paul suddenly erupted in anger and Sophie watched in horror as he took two steps and slapped her mother so hard she bashed her head against the doorframe. “I’m off, I’ve had it with these accusations!” Sophie was then flabbergasted to see her mother, with blood pouring out of her head, stagger to her feet after him. “Paul, come back! I didn’t mean it!”
Sophie couldn’t bring herself to cry, she just lay still in shock and barely slept all night. All she wanted to do now was grow up and get out of there.
Chapter 7
Pembroke tried to concentrate the next day at class. Even the glimpses of panties between the legs of the cute schoolgirls in front of him could not distract him from what he needed to do.
Pembroke knew he could not keep blackmailing girls like this, much less meeting them for sex. Technology would catch up with him, and the FBI or UK police would eventually be able to detect and trace him. The last few years had been a golden era of entrapping young women but he knew they were coming to an end. There were more and more reports of perverts like him coming to a sticky end. Hidden cameras being found, traders of illegal pornography being caught, men caught meeting underage girls for sex, and stalkers being traced through emails and chatrooms.
He knew he was good at IT, but not that good. He would soon have to “retire.” Yet he knew that this skill of his had given him much pleasure, and pleasure of fellow degenerates on the wild west of the internet, as well as misery to the victims. It had also made him a lot of money but he knew he could not go back to being a high earner at his age, nor did he want or need to be.
He was fifty five. Too late for a family though that was never a realistic option for an autistic, anti social unattractive misfit like him. He would like companionship beyond the odd prostitute. Seeing beautiful girls every day in school kept him thinking of that dream, to own a slave to call his own.
So with Rosemary, he had already had fun. The question was, what to do next? While sex with Afshan had been exciting both in pleasure and the degradation it caused her, he wanted to keep someone. It seemed disproportionately dangerous to arrange a blackmailed sex meeting with Rosemary. Looking at the girls strolling out of the school, he longed to have such warm, firm flesh at hand whenever he wanted. He knew he would have to make his move soon, why not Rosemary?
He had one other serious option and that was Sophie. But he had yet to have any blackmail material on her. He was fond of her, which meant he both would feel bad about hurting her but also wanted to keep her, like a pet.
He would arrange another interview with Rosemary tonight to see if she was slave material. Both Sophie and Rosemary were young and gorgeous in different ways, but what he demanded on top of that was servility, obedience and a lack of self confidence. Rosemary had been caught off guard last night. Tonight he would test her again.
That evening, Roesmary got a text. “Another short interview tonight.. 8pm let me know asap if you cannot make it. Again, can’t be recorded so don’t worry. However please have your body hair removed, including around your bumhole. Please have your bum clean as we will be repeating the exercises from last night. The associate who is to sleep with you will be present and wants to see you and has not been able to see last night’s performance. We also want to discuss your commitments to us until you sleep with him.”
She had hoped this was all a bad dream. She immediately felt sick, and had to run to a public restroom outside her work to retch. “Poor Rosemary, normally so bubbly, she is so under the weather today” her manager said, feeling sorry for her.
Rosemary had to cancel her date with her boyfriend and said she was sick. Her boyfriend Sam wanted to meet her still, but she insisted, eventually laughing and saying she had diarrhea to scare him off.
That evening, Rosemary made sure she was shaved, and cleaned herself inside and out. “Are you naked? Nothing, no underwear, fully naked. You must be this way when we start the interview.”
Rosemary sat on her bed, praying she would not be interrupted. Legs crossed, and hands over her breasts. The picture of the stern judge came on the screen along with the same robotic Americanised voice.
“Good girl Rosemary. Now please adjust yourself. Sit up in bed, on your knees, yes like that, now sit back so your bottom is on your ankles. Now have your back straight and palms on your thighs facing up. Excellent.”
Rosemary adopted this service position on her bed. She only wore headphones. She spoke quietly so as not to raise suspicion.
“You are very beautiful Rosemary. We would have loved to have used you for a few years for pornography. But having sex with our associate will clear the debt! Now, I want you to show me your body. Let me see you bend over and show me your pussy and your asshole.”
Rosemary felt excruciating shame but was at least glad this was (maybe?) not recorded. She was directed to stick her fingers deep inside her orifices and suck on them.
“Now Rosemary, tell me about Sam. Do you like to suck his cock?”
“Yes” she mumbled.
“Good, but I don’t think he will be happy if he sees that on the internet. His cock and face for all to see, imagine! What about when Sam is fucking you, describe in detail what you guys do together.”
Rosemary had to recount and give details and was pushed by Pembroke. She was asked again what smell she would describe her pussy, ass, skin and armpits were. She was directed to try and do a handstand and to try on her sluttiest underwear.
“Good girl. Now I want you to click this link. You remember this link?”
Rosemary remembered it. Clicking it last night had given her the fright of her life. She clicked on it, and it led to an error page.
“You see! Just like that! You are currently not online! Isnt that a relief! You can go to sleep tonight knowing that your material is no longer online. You are halfway through solving your predicament. All that remains is keeping to a schedule.
Rosemary refused to feel optimistic. What schedule was this psycho talking about?
You are going to meet our associate next week after your period. We will tell you the exact date at short notice so be prepared to cancel plans and work shifts. Until that date, every day we will have this interview where we will chat briefly, with you being naked. OK?” Now some days you might be busy or you might be seeing Sam. That’s OK! We want you to send me a selfie of you and Sam on that day. Doesn’t need to be sexual at all, as long as you are both in it! Oh, and keep that body hair shaved, we do not like it.”
Rosemary logged off. Had she signed her life over to these lowlifes, or was there a chink of light? All she knew was she could not tell her boyfriend and she could not tell her family. Could she tell the police?
Pembroke’s week was a whirlwind of activity, characterized by his unwavering commitment to transforming his basement. Despite the demands of caring for his mother and his responsibilities at the school, as well as the need to keep tabs on Rosemary, Pembroke poured his heart and soul into the project, determined to see it through to completion within the tight two-week timeframe. Every spare moment was dedicated to the renovation, with Pembroke immersing himself in the work with a single-minded focus.
Pembroke could not believe he was going to go through with this, but he enjoyed the building work. His excitement and passion were palpable as he meticulously planned, ordered materials, and got to work with his saw, eager to bring his vision to life. He knew it would not be complete, but his main goal was to secure the basement, install cameras and microphones to hear and transmit noise, have the door locked and have a further secure cell in the corner of the basement.
As the evenings passed, Pembroke’s efforts began to bear fruit, with the basement gradually transforming before his eyes. His computer hideaway would remain but the rest was tidied up. The main focus was on the cell. It had large iron bars from floor to ceiling, crossed with four supporting sideways bars which made it look like a cage. He planned for a further, more high tech cell with clear glass in the future. This cell had a door with two ways to open it. One was with a key. The other was by screwing down a widget and turning it to the side. Pembroke was satisfied that the only way it could be done was by a strong hand which made it female proof. This would save him if he ever lost his key. Pembroke had large manly hands capable of opening the toughest jar, and he smiled at finally finding an advantage over women in this field. It would be fun watching little Rosemary try to twist it unsuccessfully with her puny little fingers.
The door to the basement was sound proofed along with the rest of it with an outer cage around that door, so as to provide protection to anyone coming in from someone waiting on the other side of the door, and also to provide one more layer of security, another door Rosemary would have to get through.
The main basement door, previously unlocked, was now a large thick panelled steel door with a key, and/or a passcode to get through. Pembroke enabled both his iris, his fingerprint, and a seven digit number as his alternatives to get in and out.
With each step forward, Pembroke felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, but knew that if all went well with Rosemary, she would be spending the first month or so of her captivity in a carpenters work room rather than a well set out sex dungeon. There was not yet any St Andrews crosses, or saw horses, for her to gaze at. Pembroke had his own ideas and quite liked the idea of working on his projects, electronic and carpentry, in front of the cage with the bored and scared teenager having no option but to watch him slowly and meticulously assemble devices with which to torture her.
Rosemary could barely eat all week. Each “interview” was a ritual humiliation in her bedroom at some point in the evening. She kept thinking, why not go to the police? What was being done to her was illegal. She told herself once they told her where she would have go and meet this “associate” she would go to the police. She was terrified of losing Sam over this however, and often thought maybe it was so good to be true, she would have sex once with one man and all this would go away? She cringed in guilt every time she sent the “Judge” as she called him, a selfie with Sam, though she much preferred it to another show of humiliation of fingering herself in front of the webcam and setting out her sexual history in detail to an anonymous profile online.
The week passed more pleasantly for Sophie. She managed to avoid the other girls, and had started chatting with Neil, a handsome rugby player two years her senior. Neil was a player of girls as well as rugby and really fancied the sweet young redhead.
Needless to say, this attracted the jealousy of the other girls. Rumours were spread that she had been seen sucking an ugly boy’s cock around the back of school. Sophie swore to Neil these were all lies and as the week progressed, she was thrilled when Neil asked her to go hang out at the roller blading rink.
The only substantial interaction between Pembroke and Sophie all week had been when she asked him advice on meeting Neil. Pembroke looked on Sophie like a kindly uncle. On one hand, he loved her sweet smile and loved listening to her excitable voice chirping about her hopes dreams and the mundane life of school in London. On the other, he loved her for what she physically was, a pretty young girl who would look great in a corner, silent, tied up. Perhaps it was his longing for a real relationship that he never had that meant he wanted someone like Sophie on hand like an obedient pet.
He encouraged her and genuinely wished her the best, and wanted her to be happy, despite the beast inside him. He did not want another man to hurt her. Rosemary was his focus now. He did wonder, if the Rosemary scenario went well, both in the taking of her and the holding of her, then maybe in a few months he might be looking for another cellmate for her? There was plenty of space in the basement which had the dimensions of the floor of a large house.
He allowed himself the brief fantasy of Sophie and Rosemary together, having sex in the dungeon and having to police each other, being responsible for each other’s body hair, or lack thereof. Rosemary had no interest in girls, he knew that from one of the interrogations of her online. Sophie had never said anything to “Luke” either.
Pembroke would quickly remind himself to stop fantasising. This was real. The work on the basement was fun but it was not a criminal offence and nobody was likely to stumble on it anyway. The real, serious work, was how to arrange a kidnapping in a CCTV controlled society like the UK with smartphones everywhere.
His plan was for her to do most of the work for him. She would at first be directed towards Liverpool Lime Street station. Pembroke had managed to hack into the CCTV and would be able to watch remotely. He had also posted Rosemary a very small key. At the station, he could check whether she was alone or not. Then he would direct her to a locker while she was on the phone, and order her to ostentatiously take her phone, open the certain locker with the key posted to her, and place her phone in the locker and take the “new” phone inside.
The “new” phone was one of his proudest achievements though did not have much use to market it. It was a smartphone with camera and video capability and connectivity to only the accounts pre-programmed within it. It was like a radio programmed to just one frequency. Pembroke figured that if he could be sure that Rosemary was alone, and that her phone was now gone, then she would have no way to contact anyone.
Then he would direct her to board a train to London. She would suddenly be ordered to leave the train when it got to the town of “Helby” just short of London and ordered to walk to the town centre. After exhaustive search, he had found Helby station was one of the few stations in the UK without any CCTV. He had checked to ask if CCTV footage could be used to trace an assault there and been told it was still in the planning.
Pembroke had been watching her phone remotely. He could not see anything untoward other than googling self defence with a knife, how to demand men wear condoms, and legality of revenge porn, and blackmail. He smiled as she saw she had browsed through forums detailing how permanent and scarring revenge porn could be. She had googled that what he was doing to her was criminal, but on her phone at least, there was no contact with police. Nor was there any chat about it with friends or with Sam.
Pembroke was concerned he had given her too much time however, two weeks! That was two weeks for her to tell someone, anyone, even online. If Pembroke was caught he would go to prison for a very, very long time.
Chapter 8
Rosemary felt she had aged ten years in the last ten days. She did not want to lose Sam but found it so stressful being around him, not being able to unburden herself. She loved her mum. Could she trust her with this secret?
Of course the main option was the police. Could the police track them down? Could they remove the images? That was what scared her, they couldn’t. They could protect her against having to meet with this man but she could protect herself by just not going through with it. The penalty would be the same, her images and videos would go to everyone. Everyone she had ever known or would know, would see her naked, see her do disgusting things. She was no prude, but she loved her area and her community. This would ruin her forever. Would the police tell her they could arrest these people and wipe the images off the internet? Or would they go after them when she was meeting him? Or would they tell her to ignore them, stay at home and do nothing? She remembered the uselessness of the police when her cousin had been left in a wheelchair by a gang, or when her friend had been raped. She felt lost and alone.
Sophie had a nice date with Neil, but decided she would go very slow. She resisted any attempts at a kiss by him, she wanted to hang out again but was not ready for anything remotely sexual. Neil was attractive but his masculine nature frightened her. She still fantasised about the sexless childlike Kpop singers and her online friend, Luke. She even began learning Korean now, confident that she had found a much better culture than UK London trash. She was a little annoyed again that Luke was so rarely online, and missed him. She wished she could speak to him again as she had before.
Pembroke was exhausted. After a week of solid work on the basement, sometimes in the early hours before school, he had started his preparation for the abduction and/or sex meeting. His special one way phone was made out of old phone components, and he was able to modify it in a few hours. Making it from scratch would have taken the whole two weeks.
He rented a van in his own name, cursing that he was unable to get a false name. He again wondered if he was pushing himself too hard. Maybe he should delay it. On one hand, telling Rosemary he “wasn’t ready yet” would give the game away he was planning something and give her far too much time to think and cause problems, so she would have to be forgotten.
But he grew even more infatuated with her on each interview. Her sad empty eyes seemed to scream that she had surrendered to a life of slavery already. She was so submissive in every interview. Her juicy tits, and fat ass and slim waist just made him want to reach through the screen and eat her alive. He had to remind himself to be logical. If at any point something seemed wrong, he would abort the mission.
One major concern was that she would just go missing. He planned to spread the videos to suggest this was the reason why she had done it, but it would still look like a blatant kidnapping and there was little to stop her telling anyone what she was doing. Every interview with Rosemary, his erection seemed to go to his brain and told him to ignore everything.
Pembroke had the momentous day planned for Sunday morning. Rosemary would be with Sam, and leave from his place. He was confident that she had not told him, and might be safer her leaving from there than from her family home.
Rosemary got the message to go and be at the station for 10.00am. As instructed, she answered her phone and was surprised by the request to go to a certain locker with her key. She opened it and saw a phone inside with some tickets. She was told to look towards a certain shop, then hold her phone up and put it inside the locker and take the other out with the tickets while holding her bag with her other hand. Pembroke looked at the footage carefully. Good girl! All was going well, she had clearly locked her own phone in the locker and had his modified phone with which she would only contact Pembroke. Pembroke called it and she answered. He analysed her expression.
Rosemary looked calm, not trying to look around to see if anyone was looking at her. Pembroke was puzzled by this, he had access to CCTV but she could not know this. She must think there are 15 agents monitoring her! Though surely she must think this is more than just one hour of sex if so?
Pembroke had managed to obtain false number plates and was with his portable modem in the back of his white van, in Helby. He was able to watch the footage on his laptops. This whole operation was costing him a fortune he knew.
Pembroke told Rosemary to turn on the video chat and they spoke, with her face and voice showing.
It felt weird talking to Rosemary hearing and seeing all the people milling around her. He had only know in her in a dark bedroom performing quiet sexual rituals for him, and if all went well, in a few hours he would only ever know her locked in a cage underground, and so this intrusion of other people in their mutual world was discomforting to him.
Pembroke told her to stay still and chat for ten minutes. He made small talk about the weather and how it would all soon be over and how lovely she looked. Suddenly, he ordered her to board a train for London leaving at platform 7. She had to hurry to catch it with her tickets.
Pembroke ordered her to take her seats. He had bought the seats at great pain, to avoid the payment being traced and to buy two seats together. He did not want Rosemary sitting beside anyone. But he knew what a cute girl would be like on a train, and told her to not let anyone sit beside her.
A few minutes into the journey, he ordered her to go into the large toilets. He told her to prop the phone on the sink, and let him see her full body, or as much of it as possible. He ordered her to strip and open out her bag. He was satisfied she did not have anything big like a knife, or a second phone, but how could he be sure? He noted she was wearing glamorous pink and black sink lingerie and complimented her on them. He still could not quite believe that very shortly he would be getting his hands on her body.
They continued their conversation on the train. Pembroke had told her they would be in central London but suddenly sprung on her, that she must get off at Helby. For the first time, she noticed some surprise in her voice. He could not really threaten her with more than the release of the material now, and tried to appear commanding when he ordered her to get up and leave.
It seemed she had to hurry to get off the train, as she did not turn off the video call. Finally he saw she was on a quiet platform. Helby station was like something out of an Agatha Christie book from the 1930s. Perhaps it threw her off, it was like she was stepping back in time. The modified phone showed a map with a route that would take her to the next stop. This was a motel in the town centre about ten minutes walk away.
Pembroke had now gotten out of his van and walked the short distance to a café opposite the hotel entrance. He felt so nervous now and having to order coffee made him more so. He brought out his laptop and quickly set it up. He now had access to two views. One was a camera from his van covering the route from the station. The other was his own, watching the hotel entrance.
He could also see a blue dot on a map marking where Rosemary was. She was walking steadily five minutes away. He ordered her to turn on the video camera again. She did so and he looked for anyone in the background. No one.
My God, he thought. He still had three options. One, do nothing , stay in the café, turn off his phone and just walk to the van and go home. The other two involved going into the motel after Rosemary. The motel had no real staff, just room doors inside. His plan was to follow her inside, and introduce himself. He was nervous he had never found how to approach this next part well. He would have to persuade her to go into the motel room with him.
She could be repulsed by him. He was not in any other disguise other than the contact lenses and the thick glasses and cap. She was seventeen, he in his mid fifties passing for ten years older. His plan, or bare plan relied on there being no one else in the corridor at the time. One of the next options would be to gently suggest some nice sex in exchange for a promise of deleting the media. The other, was to attack her. Punch her in the solar plexus, and/or grab her by the throat. Pembroke had practised on a punching bag and was sure he could take a small girl like Rosemary nearly a foot taller and 50kg lighter. Then he would drag her into the room where he had already placed bondage ties, and a large bag. Then he would leave the motel, go to his van, quickly put on a high viz jacket over work clothes, go back in with a large box, put her in it, and wheel her towards his van. He would take her and all her possessions back to his house, where she would stay, forever a prisoner.
He was breathing heavily. He prayed nobody thought him suspicious. His heart jumped when Rosemary came into view. She looked more unsure of herself, looking around though still with the video phone in front of her as commanded. He noticed her grey knee length dress, black flat heeled shoes black cardigan. She looked conservative. He gripped the coffee, ready to avert his eyes in case she glanced in his direction. This was ridiculous, he was the more terrified of the two!
Suddenly, he looked at the laptop screen. Two tall, well built men were walking, thirty metres apart. There was something about them. They did not seem to be strolling or daydreaming or checking their phones. They wore dark clothes, and were looking straight ahead.
He looked again at Rosemary. She was standing still now outside the motel. She was speaking into the phone. “Where are you?”
This did not feel like it was supposed to. There was no control here. Pembroke noticed one of the men was now getting closer and would soon be in his own view. Suddenly, he made up his mind. He snapped the laptop shut, picked up his stuff, and walked briskly out of the door, head down, and walked in the opposite direction away from the motel and Rosemary. When out of sight, he began to jog.
He thought of the bondage equipment in the motel room. He had not told her the room number so she would not go in. He found a pub eventually, and found a quiet corner and ordered a whiskey. He was now shaking. He was now thinking not of kidnap, but of escape. He needed to get back to his van and out of this town, if possible, taking the things from the motel room while he was at it.
He stayed in the pub for forty five minutes settling on beer after the two whiskies. He walked back to the motel, and quickly walked inside, went straight to the room and gathered up all the equipment. He had checked the coffee shop, Rosemary was not there nor was anyone he suspected of being with her. He walked out, and went straight to his van. He threw his things inside, and turned the ignition. He drove off, and after an hour had to pull in to the hard shoulder, to cry and then vomit. He eventually reached a service station where he turned his phone back on.
“Where are you ? what happened?” There were several messages from Rosemary. Pembroke sighed. He could not be sure if he had imagined the two men or exaggerated them to himself. Something had told him, something was not right. He was glad, there was no part of him now that wanted Rosemary in the back of his van. He had been terrified of her when he saw her. To think that a few hours ago he had confidently been planning on capturing and enslaving her. Instead it was the opposite. He felt so pathetic.
He got home and tried to think things through. He took care of his mother while wondering what to do next. He could just forget about her. He would never know if she had held her end of the bargain up, he did not want to ask her.
The following day, he went back to school and felt a little more comfortable. He was glad the plan had been foiled and nobody got hurt. He came home, fed his mother and watched comfort television. He thought of how different it would be if he now had to feed some teenager in his basement and force her to have sex with him. Maybe he was just too old for this.
A few nights later, he messaged Sophie again as Luke. He enjoyed he gentle playfulness and watching her sing Kpop songs in her pink vest and panties. He realised he much preferred her to Rosemary. Rewatching Rosemary, he became paranoid. It had been too easy all along, perhaps. Rosemary had previously looked fearful and innocent. Now he detected a sluttiness and lechery in her face when he rewatched her sinking her fingers into her mouth or her pussy. Her firm large breasts looked intimidating rather than comforting and her blue eyes cold rather than frightened. Maybe someone up there had been looking out for him, he thought, or maybe for Rosemary too, he laughed.
Rosemary herself grew anxious in the days after the missed “date.” She wondered when the material would be sent to everyone. She was sure it would happen. Why had this man, or people, just disappeared at the last moment? Was this just some fantasist who had hacked her laptop? She found it incredible that she could not contact him at all.
It did bring her together with Sam. Her boyfriend had been so understanding after hearing her out after crying her eyes out again. She had told him everything. Instead of going to the police, Sam had enlisted two of his friends, who were former military, to trail Rosemary as she travelled to the date. Both young men were focused on protecting Rosemary, and were following her move. Rosemary had a tracker on her and they had been able to follow her everywhere. Sprinting after her to catch the London train that Rosemary had jumped on, they leapt over the barriers and had paid the maximum fine on the train but were happy to. Both were tensed and ready to beat this ogre into next week before bringing him to a police station. They were all thus incredibly frustrated when the trail went cold. They had split up and wandered over the town. Pembroke had been incredibly fortunate though had not known it. In the café, a new staff member took over a shift the minute after Pembroke ran out. The new staff member thus could not tell the two young men about anyone who may have been loitering in the café. In the pub, Pembroke had been in the toilet as the two men had quickly stepped inside looking for anyone looking suspicious. And they had then left the café, after keeping a watch some two minutes before Pembroke had gone back inside to collect the things. They had noticed the white van and made a note of the number plates. It was a few days later when a contact of one of the lads confirmed they were fake.
Rosemary was so grateful to Sam and the two got engaged. Sam promised he would not care about any videos or photos that came out. Rosemary felt so happy, even happier than before that vile man contacted her.
Pembroke never contacted her again. He kept her material, but he never released it for fear of some unspecified blowback and a sense of honour. He reasoned that Rosemary had, probably, played the game fairly and been there for the taking. It was his fault, he came to believe, not hers, that she was not naked in his basement right now, and so she deserved some respect.
Chapter 9
Pembroke spent the next week updating the basement. He had thought of turning it into a gym or a wine cellar, something that might increase the resale value of the house. Or even something for socializing given its soundproof nature. He would have to get rid of the barred cell in the corner though, as well as the heavy steel door with a caged outer door as it would look too suspicious.
He spent his evenings walking now that days were longer, but following a few days of rain, he stayed in and ended up online again. He tried staying off pornography but it didn’t last. In fact, he went back to chatting with Sophie. He explained his absence by saying he thought he had found a girlfriend and did not want to speak to Sophie while in the early stages. But now it was over with his new Korean girlfriend, he was lonely and sad.
Sophie loved this, a sensitive boy who did want to hurt her feelings nor cheat on a new girl, but who also missed her. Pembroke was fortunate that the idol Luke was based on was so busy on social media that he had many more photos to share, and that Sophie was too stupid to realise that these were of a minor Korean celebrity.
Sophie had not had a pleasant week so far. Neil had taken her out again to the cinema. He had been a perfect gentleman to this point but was getting frustrated. During the movie, he moved his hand from her shoulder, then to her knee. Sophie felt uncomfortable and wished she had worn jeans instead of the denim skirt she had on. He gradually moved his hand up her thigh. Sophie’s heart rate went through the roof, she saw people around her but none of them noticed anything. She could not scream in the middle of a movie, could she?
Eventually, she gathered the courage to take his hand off her legs. But he soon put it back on, this time moving more quickly. Sophie jumped out of her seat when his hands got to within millimetres of her crotch. She pulled her skirt down, and placed her hands between her legs but did not make a fuss.
After the movie, Neil acted like nothing had happened. He offered to take her to a late night cafe, but Sophie just wanted to go home. Neil started to get angry. “Come on, I’ve paid for the last few dates, I haven’t’ got anything in return.” He suddenly pinned her against the wall. “You haven’t even kissed me yet.”
“Neil! You’re hurting me, look I like you, I’m just not ready yet…”
“Not ready to kiss me? You’re not a fucking child. Come on!”
Sophie became terrified of his wolfish grin which was now right in her face, she wiggled out of his embrace and tried to walk away. Neil called after her, but she broke into a sprint. She ran straight home into her bedroom and started to cry. The masculine strength of his embrace and how he towered over her had petrified her.
Pembroke was able to console her as Luke. He told her that true love took time, that a couple should be able to talk and hold hands for hours without doing anything too physical. He only wished he was not thousands of miles away to get to know her better. It was better this way, that she did not see him, because he did not want her to waste her time in falling in love with him. Of course, this only made Sophie fall in love with Luke even more.
At school, Neil split up with her. Sophie was devastated although also relieved. Jealous girls spread a rumour that she had desperately tried to come on to Neil and get him to finger her while she was on her period. He had been disgusted and broke it off with her after getting blood on his fingers.
Sophie was embarrassed by the rumours and angrily denied them. “So you weren’t on your period then? Why was he so disgusted then was that your normal smell” a girl had challenged her in class. “Do you not get periods then?” asked another. Sophie was faced with howls of laughter and derision. The boys pitied her but their physical attraction to her overcame a natural sense of empathy. When she hung out with them, it was never long before one would ask her later to send a naked photo by text.
The teachers did not like her, she thought. She was a daydreamer and was often caught out staring out the window by teachers and never did well at tests. Some thought she was too stuck up for her class, others even thought she was bullying others because so often they found her shouting and pushing at the other girls, when really it was self defence.
Her mother was now a full blown alcoholic. In one scary night, she had brought home a large man named Isaiah. Isaiah had looked at Sophie with lust, and later come in to the kitchen while Sophie was making tea, wearing nothing but underpants. His glistening black skin and rippling muscles were intimidating, but it was the huge bulge in his pants which made Sophie’s eyes leap out.
“You got your mama’s eyes and her hair, you gonna be really nice soon. Maybe me and you could go on a date some night when your mama goes to sleep eh? I bet those boys cannot make you feel like I could.”
Sophie made her excuses and left and locked her bedroom door. One night, she heard her mother scream, and the sound of broken furniture and objects being thrown around. “Fucking bitch” was all Isaiah would say, while her mother accused him of sleeping with other women. Sophie heard a loud slap which shut her mother up. Then Isaiah went out to the hallway. She heard him stop outside her door, and heard him breathing heavily. She whimpered, gathering up the bedclothes in her hand around her. She saw the shadows of his feet under the door. Silence. Then after what seemed forever, he left and slammed the front door behind him.
Pembroke had stopped obsessing over different girls and no longer tried to catch them out. He had slept with three women after blackmailing them, the last one Afshan, and realised it was no longer worth the risk, especially as the anticipation was now more of going to prison than having a good time.
Chatting with Sophie occasionally, and doing up other elements of his basement kept him busy along with looking after his mother. He was content to watch Sophie sometimes in her underwear as the heaviest he would go.
However, the warming weather turned his mind in other ways. The girls started wearing only blouses and their skirts got shorter. One day, Pembroke was approached and asked to accompany the pupils to a weekend day trip, to a water slide. Pembroke baulked at the idea, publicly he knew he should, but he also wanted to have as little interaction with his pupils as possible. He desperately tried to get out of it, but other teachers could not make it and so he found himself on a bus with chatty and excitable pupils one Saturday morning.
Ironically, the weather was damp and miserable for once. Yet Pembroke had to endure the sight of teenage girls in swimsuits and some in bikinis, giggling and running around. He was legally obliged to keep an eye on them all, something which many men would have paid good money to do. He tried desperately to keep calm and not ogle them. However, the memory of the pert bottoms in clinging wet skimpy bikinis, the droplets of water falling down the tanned smooth slim thighs and calfs, the flat stomachs and bejewelled belly buttons and nipples protruding from breasts fighting to get out of tight swimsuits. He thought he composed himself well. But for the rest of the weekend he was lost in a frenzy of masturbation to the memory and then into the porn.
He revisited some blackmail videos. One of the girls at the swim park was Chloe Marshall, a fifteen year old blonde beauty with a figure that belonged on a catwalk. Pembroke could not get her out of his head and matched her with a previous victim of his, a Brianne Werner, from California. He recalled how he had blackmailed her with the nude selfies and threatened her. He watched the video again of her “confession” he made her tape, to get her images and videos back.
Brianne was naked, sitting on her bed in front of her computer facing into the webcam. She had the submissive pose of being on her knees, on her honkers with her hands on her thighs and her bum on her heels. She was sitting up and trying to recite into the camera, despite breaking off to cover her face with her hands, to cry, and to wipe tears from her eyes, and to plead. Eventually Pembroke had got what he wanted out of her.
“My name is Brianne Werner my date of birth is the 13th of August 1994 in Orange County California. Here is my passport. “She paused and held her passport to the camera. “ My parents are Olaf and Sarah Werner. Mr father works for KSA engineering where is a production manager. My mother is a school teacher at Lake Heights high school. My social security number is …”
Pembroke smiled at the memory of the humiliation. He had eventually agreed to take her naked selfies and videos from the website he created, but knew that it was too late and that her friends and family would have saved them. It was another testament to the longetivity of the internet that he was able to find her again online, the same videos and photos.
He struggled to keep up the conversations with Sophie now. He desperately wanted to turn them sexual and would often masturbate then have to stop to concentrate on what life was like in Soeul to keep up his pretence.
He cursed that swimming park day out. He could barely look at his pupils anymore, having seen them near naked he felt like he should be allowed to just masturbate to them in class, looking at them now was like looking at pornography. Not for the first time, he wondered what life had been like decades ago when teachers had been allowed to spank pupils which was all he wanted to do sometimes.
Work continued on his basement. It was uiltarian, installing toilets and showers, redoing the floor and rewiring the place. He took out the cell after realising it was easily broken anyway. He looked online to find a silence of the lambs style cell with clear glass doors. It was a lot more secure but more expensive and complex.
He thought again about the fantasy about slave ownership. The summer heat and the general horniness in the air won out and he got over his Rosermary mishap. It was a valuable lesson he thought, one that he was lucky to get without major consequence.
Other than Sophie he could not think of any anyone else. Local pupils were off limits, and of his backmail victims, they were either too far away or he did not have much inclination towards them. He liked having sex with Afshan for half an hour but did not fancy a lifetime of having her here. He needed a girl who he would “grow old with” and who could deal with living as a prisoner and not cause him much trouble. He doubted there would be any volunteers, as he looked at his paunch and ugly huge body in the mirror, so it was as well as the chosen girl would not be asked their opinion on the matter.
He thought that perhaps he should try and meet Sophie in person, and interact with her and follow her. It should not be too difficult, all he wanted to do was follow her around and see her in the flesh, how she acted and reacted. Maybe, even smell her if he could get close.
From his conversations as Luke, he picked the right time which would be a Saturday. Sophie was going to be playing a school hockey match. From there, she said, she wanted to go see a music festival in Stratford in east London and get a new skirt there before going home.
Pembroke was able to find the location of her school hockey match and arrived down in London to watch and was pleasantly surprised to see a lot of people which made him seem less conspicuous. He had a specially fitted camera attached to a shoulder bag, which he would turn with the bag to capture different angles. He bristled when he first saw Sophie come out, slightly apart from the others, like a loner. She was a vision, her long golden red/ginger hair tied in a pony tail, her blue eyes shining in the sun. The black and white top and skirt allowed her to show her legs well, and as she played on the left wing, Pembroke was able to get good footage of her running up and down.
He noted she was far from a good player. She was easily pushed off the ball, and often lost the ball. Other girls shouted at her and the coach, a stern tall blonde woman built like an East German shot putter, berated her for not covering and not passing accurately or controlling the ball. Sophie was trying but was obviously not enjoying herself. Pembroke discreetly moved to the other side of the pitch for the second half and again got close to Sophie as she played on that wing. On one occasion, a girl pushed her as they battled for the ball, Sophie tripped over her own stick, and tumbled on the ground and landed face down just a metre from where Pembroke stood. Pembroke could see she was wearing black sports shorts under her skirt.
“Get up Sophie, come on!” the coach shouted at her. Sophie had her head down, she looked disappointed in herself. Shortly afterwards she was replaced. Pembroke saw her sitting on the other side of the pitch but thought it too obvious to go back across to be close to her.
The final whistle blew, Sophie’s team had lost and he watched her trudge off. He knew she did not like hockey but was forced to play and been put in the team and so could not just quit. She had said to Luke that she could not understand her inclusion. Pembroke suspected he knew, the butch, blonde, burly coach kept eying her while she sat on the bench and consoled her by putting he hand on her knee. Sophie seemed oblivious, but Pembroke smiled. He understood the hockey coach, she obviously fancied Sophie like he did.
Pembroke left soon after, and fathered his things making sure to put his camera away properly. He went to Stratford for the event which was open air, and was a bit shocked when he saw how many people there were. He was dismayed that he would not find Sophie or that she would not come.
He was lucky however, just as he was about to leave, he saw the bright red head of Sophie. She was with two friends she had mentioned, who were both Asian, and who she liked but was not so close with. She preferred them to her school mates, these girls were two years younger than Sophie. The music was ridiculous pop from a very local band aimed at tweens. It was near a shopping centre so it just looked like Pembroke was waiting for his kids. He watched Sophie from afar. She seemed happy and giggled with the two girls. He watched her stare at one singer who came on, a young guy who looked like Justin Beiber and sang terrible cover songs.
Pembroke was starting to sweat, it was getting hotter and he was not used to this weather. He must have looked a right sight, a fat sweaty red faced man constantly rubbing his face and neck with this hankerchief. His T shirt was not flattering as he took his jacket off and he noted ruefully that he may have to get a size bigger from now on.
Sophie had no such discomfort, she had changed into a pair of tight blue jeans and a white T-shirt. The music finished, and the three girls walked around the shopping centre. Pembroke walked after them. There were so many people the girls never noticed him. He was aware of the security guards though, and had read too many stories of perverts being caught with secret cameras to be too confident of following young girls around in public. But he was not doing anything illegal. He watched Sophie eat an ice cream, her pink tongue lapping the white of her ice cream, her face crinkling as she smiled and having to wipe the ice cream from her mouth. The sight of her opening her mouth to receive the cone made him imagine things too much, and he got a tap on the shoulder from a security guard.
“What … what …?” mumbled Pembroke, his mind racing. He was facing a large bearded Asian man in a security guard outfit.
“Mate, you dropped you keys, just back there.” The guard smiled but his eyes remained cool. They both knew why Pembroke had been so distracted, middle aged men gawking at teenagers tended to become noticeable after a while.
“Oh… err.. thank you” Pembroke went back, picked up his keys, and did not dare look in Sophie’s direction. He walked off, thinking to grab a cold coffee, and when he finally sneakily turned back, Sophie was gone.
“Damn it, he thought” but remembered she had said to Luke she would go to River Island even asking if it existed in Korea. Pembroke walked into River Island, and thought he should maybe buy himself a new T shirt anyway. He got a shirt one size bigger, and quickly tried it on. He looked at his belly and thought that he must lose weight this summer. He remembered watching his back fat wobble as he had pummelled Afshan from behind in their video. He was probably even fatter now.
As he joined the queue to pay, he was pleased to see Sophie three places ahead. She had been quick and had bought the one skirt and was chatting to her two friends. As they got to the head of the queue, two others between them broke off to go to other tills and for a glorious thirty seconds he was directly behind Sophie. He was able to smell her newly washed hair and look down at her pert buttocks in her very flattering low rise jeans. He could look down and see her back dimples underneath the band of the Tshirt as they tapered into her jeans waistband. He felt like he could place his hands around her waist and have his thumbs touch she was so slim.
Suddenly Sophie was off to one till, then Pembroke another. He tried to follow at a discreet distance. He noticed her bag, a bright blue and orange sports bag. It seemed heavy and probably contained her clothes from the hockey match.
Sophie stopped at a fruit stall near the station and she and her friends sat drinking in the sun. They were showing each other videos and photos. Pembroke sat at the table behind them after ordering a drink he was glad to get down him. It was so hot! Sophie went off to the toilets to try on her new skirt and came out in it, showing it off to her friends. They complimented her on it fitted her and how short it was. Pembroke had to fight every fibre of his being to not turn around.
Eventually, the girls got up to leave, Sophie stood up with them, and they hugged each other, laughing and chatting as they made to leave. Pembroke saw her bag unattended. In a moment of inspiration, he grabbed her bag, lifted it and marched off quickly, holding the bag under his jacket to disguise the color and behind his other bag.
His heart rate shot up as he approached a corner, five metres away but it seemed like it took a minute. He did not dare look back but expected shouts of “come back here” any second. But none came, He quickly ran down the escalator past the throngs of people, trying to hide the bag, whose bright colors seemed, in the moment, to be like neon symbols attracting attention.
He got to a quiet part outside the station. He looked at the bag, it had unicorns on it and was obviously a girls bag. He looked inside and saw the sports clothes and trainers. He decided to empty the contents of her sports bag into his own bag, then when he was satisfied it was empty, he forced Sophie’s bag into a bin. He felt more secure now. He also threw his old t-shirt in the same bin and put on the new one. He also put on a baseball cap. He felt a bit better now, he looked a little different and the tell tale bag was gone.
He was going to leave when temptation overcame him. He opened up his bag and inspected her items. Checking no one was looking, he sniffed the scent of her sports top. There was no smell of perfume or deodorant, but a pleasant musk. Even after hours of intense exercise in the sun, she would still smelt lovely.
He saw her black sports shorts and again checked around him. He sniffed the crotch. The faint smell of female flesh he found delicious. She did not have much of a scent though. But then he saw something that made his heart sing. There was a pair of grey knickers which she had obviously worn under the sports shorts. He took his time checking no one was around this time. He looked at the gusset, and saw a slight white paste of discharge which must have leaked from her. Tentatively he brought it to his nostrils. It smelt delicious, there was nothing to compare it to, he loved it. The mix of sweat, urine, and female scent from her crotch wafted into his nostrils and he impulsively held it to his face to cover his mouth and nose while closing his eyes.
Suddenly he remembered where he was. He quickly checked for any traceable electronics, then zipped the bag up and got up to leave. He walked back through the station and thought about what to do next. He went on the train platform to get back to central London, though in the confusion it took him several minutes to find the right place. Suddenly he saw Sophie again.
She was downcast and alone, she still had her purse and he could see she had her phone. But no sports bag, of course. He felt bad, he hoped none of the clothes were expensive. The trainers maybe, but the rest seemed cheap, though priceless to Pembroke. She looked upset and angry with herself.
Against his better judgement, he decided to try and follow her again. He realised she was heading home. She must have spent the last few minutes trying to get her bag but given up quite quickly. She was right, there was no chance of getting it back but it also showed how careless she was, leaving her bag unattended in a place like this. He hoped she would not recognise him from the hockey or the shopping centre. He was not in a jacket or his old T shirt anymore. He also did not look like a thief with his now very heavy professional looking bag.
He got on the same tube platform and got on the same tube train. He was able to watch her from the next carriage. He looked at the complicated map of London transport and tried to guess where and when she would get off. He guessed correctly that she would get off and change at Liverpool Street. He followed her at a distance, again protected by the heaving numbers of people everywhere. On the escalators, he could see her ahead of him in her short denim skirt, her bright red hair acting as a homing beacon to him. He moved to the side of the escalator, desperate to try and catch a glimpse up that skirt but there were too many people in the way.
At Liverpool Street she walked around, texting on her phone then calling, looking distraught. Pembroke was a little annoyed, he wanted to follow her but it was safer on a journey rather than just hanging around. As she sat down, he wandered into a shop, and after browsing the aisles, noticed some plastic air tight wrap bags, With a light bulb moment, he bought them, and then sat discreetly about fifty metres from Sophie, who was sitting cross legged arms folded on the phone looking upset while talking with someone. He went into his bag, and put her bra, her panties, and her sports shorts into separate plastic bags and then sealed each one. He wanted to savour the taste and aroma of each. He was glad of the distraction as Sophie sat for a while. Eventually, she got up and as he predicted, got the right line to her home tube station. Pembroke followed her at a distance, and was able to see her on the opposite end of the platform.
He relaxed, he had a fun day and did not mind if he lost her now. He got out at her local stop, and walked out quickly then stood around, marvelling at the multicultural morass of London. He then saw the familiar red head of Sophie as she walked out of the station towards a bus stop.
He decided to wait for the bus as well. This was a rougher crowd, and ironically he now found it difficult to stay away from Sophie everyone was so crammed. They were the only two white people at the stop, and Pembroke began to think he was pushing this a bit too far. A bus came, and Sophie got on it. Pembroke tried to wait until the very last to board. But as he walked down the bus, he found himself forced to stand right opposite Sophie. Sophie was lost in her own little world and did not pay attention to the larger man opposite her.
Eventually Sophie found a seat, and Pembroke moved back. He could not comfortably look at her. Her legs were parted slightly, and he tried to see if he could see up her skirt. She was obviously distracted and not used to this skirt as a few times she absent mindedly opened her legs allowing Pembroke a nice quick glance at the white panties between her legs.
Suddenly, Sophie sensed someone was looking at her. She looked across and saw a fat tall man in a baseball cap carrying a large bag, he had been staring up her skirt, and now looked up and met her eyes.
She crossed her legs and pulled down her skirt and looked away quickly. Pembroke was dazzled by her looking at him and did not pull his gaze. Sophie felt the man was still looking at her, she looked back and he was, Pembroke smiled at her but she did not smile back, she went red, and looked down.
The rest of the bus was busy with chatter and people moving up and down, but Pembroke could not take his eyes off Sophie. Her face was still red, and she was getting flustered. He smiled even more, she was shy and afraid of confrontation, he could keep looking at her and she would not make a fuss. She turned around again, looked at him and again got redder, and stared down at the ground.
Sophie hoped this man would not get off at her stop. She wanted to look at him again though, she thought she remembered his bag, from the hockey match. In fact, was she imagining things or had she seen him in the shopping centre too? She took another look and their eyes met again.
Pembroke smiled again. Sophie shuddered, he was a crazy creep, London was full of them. A fat old disgusting man, euugh, why did she have to deal with them? Sophie brought out her phone and started chatting hoping he would move away or get off the bus.
She took a few more looks, and tried to stare at him for longer than a second, but got more flustered. Oh God, he might think she was into him? She could feel her face and even her legs burning of shame. She went back on her phone. She sensed his gaze had gone away and indeed it had, Pembroke was looking at his phone, calculating when Sophie would be getting off. Sophie took a quick photo of him.
Eventually, it was Sophie’s stop. Pembroke got off as well. Sophie felt frightened now. It was just her and Pembroke. “A lovely day, young lady” he said to her. “And you look lovely yourself if I may so so!”
Sophie swallowed and went red. She put her head down, and mumbled “thank you…” then tried walking away quickly.
Pembroke smiled and walked away in the opposite direction, planning on somehow getting back on the train and out of London. He had enjoyed the thrill of the chase. Perhaps he had come too close to Sophie for comfort, but he had learned she really was this meek in real life. How she had reacted to him staring at her and blatantly following her. She was a good little girl who would do as she was told, and who looked and smelled terrific. He whistled to himself as he thought about what an excellent candidate she was for being his slave.
Sophie ran home as soon as Pembroke was out of sight. It had been an awful day, utter misery at the hockey, her bag stolen, and that ugly old fat creep following her around. The day was still warm and sunny but she had no appetite to face the people outside any longer.
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