In search of Sophie 7 hot sex erotica stories – Y2Stories

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

Chapter 33
Pembroke would be glad to quit this contract job. The work was tough but rewarding, and he had easily recouped all his expenses on Sophie even allowing for the fitting of the sex dungeon. He sorely wanted to have some summertime in his garden, and of course, time with Sophie, before school started again.

He had covered up his stairway now with an impressive fake wall and the broom cupboard door now looked safely like it held just brushes and copies of old newspapers. He was confident no visitor, even inspecting the broom cupboard, would suspect there was a hidden stairway there, let alone a chamber of delights below. The carers who visited his mother during the day while he was away, including the ever happy Leah, were free to wander around his house and he had no worries they would discover anything.

It was mid August, the Find Sophie campaign was losing steam and Pembroke was gaining confidence that she would soon be forgotten. A “Find Sophie” poster now adorned the basement wall, for Sophie to look at forlornly. Pembroke had been weary of the media circus around Sophie’s family and one pleasing effect of the end of the campaign would be his freedom to follow the mother and sister around in the same manner as he had done with Sophie. He had no plans to snatch either of them at present, but he enjoyed the sense of ownership he had over the family, and really enjoyed the voyeuristic aspect of this whole adventure.

Sophie was not doing as well as her owner. It had been a horrible time for her. Kidnapped, held underground with no access to sunlight and fresh air for nearly two months, numerous beatings, sexual abuse, and psychological torture were not a good recipe for a happy young girl.

While Pembroke was happy to put up with her lack of cheer, and content with the fake smile and sexual performances that he got out of her with threats, he was perturbed by the decline in her health.

He had started to weigh her and noticed she was getting lighter. She had not been avoiding food or throwing up. She was getting pale, sweating, and had a fever. One morning he found her delirious, on the floor of her cell. He panicked, he knew he had to go to work so left her just with some food and hot water. That evening he hoped he would not find her dead.

She was alive, but now in a pool of sweat. Pembroke furiously googled results and ordered some antibiotics online with a fast courier. Sex was off the menu for the next few days and she was allowed out of the cell and in the bed in the middle of the basement.

Sophie felt like hell. Her headaches got worse and worse and her head was blocked with a cold. Her limbs barely responded to her. She had earlier wanted to die to escape her situation, now it seemed she might do so. She even asked Pembroke if he would release her body somewhere so her mother and sister could bury her. Pembroke told her not to worry, she would get better.

Pembroke was, while treating her with drugs he had chosen using google, also considering what to do in the event of her death. He had a good run with her, he had done everything sexually with her that he had dreamt of. It would be sad but if she died, it would have been worth it.

“Now, now, Sophie, your temperature is getting steady, hopefully, tomorrow we can get you to eat something.”

He stroked her neck and ran his fingers around her wrist, in what may have seemed a manner of fondness, though Sophie was so far out of it to think. But, primarily, he was wondering how easily he could slice through her limbs with the hacksaw he had just purchased. As he felt her hand in a gentle manner, he was imagining it severed, cleaned, and being roasted on the outdoor barbecue he had also just purchased. His plan was to slice her up into as many body parts as possible and slowly barbecue each and every one until they were charred beyond all recognition, and dump the remains in various places. There would be no trace of a human body for anyone.

After the initial grotesque thought of disposing of her had been dealt with, Pembroke allowed himself some morbid fantasies. As she lay there, naked, in a cold sweat, he ran his hand over her perfectly pale body, while he masturbated with his other hand. He came on her face and rubbed it into her cheeks and over her lips as if it might be good for her. He felt like he was cumming over a corpse in a morgue.

By the weekend she seemed to be getting better, her temperature was coming down, and she was eating. The drugs seemed to work, he thought.

Pembroke was not sure what had caused it, but realised he really needed to get Sophie in sunlight and open air sometimes at least. He made an online order and with some adjustments, constructed a device with which he could transport her out of the basement, up the stairs, and outside in his garden.

The small wardrobe was the same height as Sophie, and had hooks built in so that when she was stood up in it, her neck, thighs, ankles, waist, upper arms, and wrists were tied to the back of the wardrobe. Pembroke gagged, blindfolded and hooded Sophie and strapped her in. He then used a modified dolly to wheel her out of the basement through the doors, and then up the basement stairwell. A wardrobe door was closed over the top of Sophie, just in case any prying visitor was looking in through a window, they would just see a wardrobe.

As if by horrible chance, when he got her upstairs it had started raining. Exasperated, he brought the wardrobe to a spare bedroom where his mother sitting in a wheelchair watching the birds in the garden.

“Hello mother, got a visitor for you, say hello!”

He set the wardrobe down and opened the door. Pembroke’s mother barely raised an eyebrow at the sight of a naked girl, her limbs strapped to the back of the wardrobe, with a black hood on her. “Perhaps some indoor light might be a nice introduction. OK, Sophie, I am going to let you see a real human bedroom now for a while!” He took off her hood and the blindfold but left the gag in.

Sophie blinked furiously, just the indoor light, the sun coming in behind her through the window was enough to blind her. The familiar set up of a bed and wall and some books was a major shock compared to the last two months of artificial light and sexual atmosphere everywhere. What also surprised her was an elderly woman in a wheelchair just within reach.

“Say hello to my mother Sophie. She is going to keep an eye on you for a while. I am going to lock up downstairs and sort stuff out. When it stops raining I will bring you out for some tanning.”

Sophie was left, tied up, unable to move, and unable to make much noise, with this old woman. She wondered, was she dumb, or far gone with old age? Could she help her? She could not believe she was living in a dungeon below such a normal looking house.

“Hello, Gerta?” The old woman looked at Sophie strangely. Sophie just moaned in response, and wriggled her fingers and toes and shook her knees but could not otherwise move. Pembroke’s mother managed to move her wheelchair closer, and put her hand out to touch this strange thing in her house. Sophie hummed loudly into her gag, as the old woman’s hand touched her snow white skin. Even with her mind gone, the old woman could still appreciate the fine firm flesh of youth.

Pembroke came back and was astonished to see his mother, beside Sophie, staring at her stomach which was at her head height, and her hand in Sophie’s pussy, with something like fascination. “Mother! My goodness!” He took his mother’s hand away, and Sophie breathed a sign of relief.

“Haha I’m so sorry Sophie, I did not expect THAT from my mother. She has dementia, trust me I don’t get my perviness from her. Now I am going to release one of your wrists now, let me put a cuff on you. Excellent, and now the other wrist, and they are cuffed together, good! Now the same with your ankles, just move them a little closer together if you can, and yes, they are cuffed together too! Great, now we can move you outside! This is a rare treat for the good of your health only, so enjoy it, I don’t expect to do this again for months!”

Pembroke wheeled her outside in the wardrobe, now with legs and wrists cuffed together, and set the wardrobe down on the ground. The bare sun was now coming down on the wardrobe and Sophie squinted as she saw direct sunlight for the first time in two months. Pembroke thoughtfully put some sunglasses on her. He then removed the detachable sides, top and bottom of the wardrobe so that she was just lying on nothing but the back board of the wardrobe which was all by itself now.

He had two ropes attached to two different things. The first was attached to a small tree and the other end he attached to her ankle cuffs. The second was attached to his car on the other side of the garden from Sophie with the rope he attached to her wrist cuffs. He pulled both ropes taut so that Sophie’s arms were extended way over her head and her feet pulled in the opposite direction. He then released the other bindings attaching her waist, upper arms and thighs, and her neck. She was now lying horizontal, stretched nicely, and still gagged. Pembroke lathered some sun cream over her, and let her cook in the sun as he sat close by. No one could see into this part of the garden, though he had a large blanket ready to hurl over the prone body of Sophie if he so much as suspected something.

After an hour and a half, he roughly turned her over, like a kebab, so that she was on her stomach. The pain was excruciating as her arms were now stretched in an upward diagonal direction. It felt like her shoulders might dislocate if the tension increased even slightly. Her wrists strained under the pressure, reaching toward his car as if pleading for relief. Her legs were similarly suspended, pulled off the ground in a cruel angle, leaving her back arched and rigid.

Only her hip bones made contact with the cold floor, and even that was tenuous. Every muscle in her back and abdomen screamed in agony, her body stretched taut like a bowstring. She struggled to breathe, each shallow inhale causing her chest to tighten and her ribs to creak under the unnatural strain. It felt like she was caught between being drawn and quartered, her limbs pulled in directions they weren’t meant to go. As the tension increased, so did her desperation, her body reduced to a raw nerve, ready to snap at any moment.

Drool spilled out of her mouth through the gag. Pembroke ran his hand over her again with the sun cream, he wanted Sophie to stay pale.

Sophie’s neck began to hurt as she could not support her head. She tried moaning to appeal to Pembroke through the gag, but he had turned up some music and was engrossed in a newspaper. She felt like her body might snap in half.

Finally, Pembroke decided that this was enough sun. He was concerned, not with the pain racking her body, but that he was asking for trouble having a naked young girl tied up in extreme bondage for so long outside. He twisted her around again, and Sophie purred in thanks as her arms no longer felt like they would leave her sockets, and then began strapping her waist, thighs and neck back into the wardrobe plank. Sophie cried in relief as he released the rope, and her arms and legs were returned to their normal positions and she was tied back into place. He then put the blindfold and hood back on her, as he put the sides, top, bottom and door of the wardrobe back together before wheeling the wardrobe back into the house and down into the basement.

After the feeling in her arms and legs had returned to normal, she realized her fever was pretty much gone. What she felt now, was envy, envy of those birds she had watched in the sky, envy of the people in the plane she had watched in the sky. They were the closest she had come to seeing other people apart from this weirdo’s mother.

The sun had given her something else, hope. She now looked at the Find Sophie poster, not with sadness but with optimism. People were looking for her. And there was a world out there, not just this sex hell.

She had heard Pembroke work the door at the top of the stairwell, and calculated he had used three different movements. She knew he had changed the codes but did already know one of them. She just had to keep her eye out for the other, then she could try that top door again.

Jenny and Teresa tried to continue their lives with Sophie gone. Jenny had a job in a café but thought of what courses to take. She could not concentrate for long without stressing about Sophie. She could not date or see any men, she felt like she needed to be ready and waiting in case Sophie needed her. Teresa also felt the same, she put up lots of posters of Sophie and spent hours on social media trying to drum up interest. Unfortunately, scammers and perverts still targeted her, and she drove the police mad with continuous demands for more investigations based on little more than sniggering assholes who provided false sightings.

One such person was one Edward Pembroke, who would press Teresa to report a sighting in Holland one week, then one in Dublin the next. Partly it was to help throw police off the scent, but also because he enjoyed toying with Teresa, and looked forward to messing with her head even more in future.

Teresa was no longer popular or beloved as a desperate mother. Instead, she was vilified by many. She did not care about that, but was devastated to see the resulting drop in interest in the search for Sophie. She needed funds, and so as to free up more time and get the money, she went back to Tommy. Tommy was a little weary that she might be recognised by punters now, but also thought it might be a nice twist for the more high-end clients who liked to fuck down-on-their-luck ex pop singers and reality TV stars if they could find them.

Teresa had one new experience, with a Malaysian financier who paid good money for some hot sex and Teresa even enjoyed it. She told herself she could do this, it was worth it and she even managed to pay off some debts and order more online ads for Sophie’s search campaign. She told Tommy she was happy to see more clients the higher paying the better. “You know Sophie, these guys pay more because they want particular things that other girls don’t wanna do … like that last American fella”

“I know Tommy” Sophie called him back “but I don’t care I need the money more than those young girls, so I’ll do anything.”

Her youngest daughter was also prepared to do anything that evening. Sophie had recovered from her illness and delighted Pembroke with her new found sexual prowess and appetite. “Daddy, can I go on top of you?” she smiled as she brought her sexy young body on top of him, twisting her nipples as she rubbed her clit and rode his cock, and sprayed her cum all over his face.

Pembroke grabbed her and threw her onto her stomach and forced his cock up her asshole. She bit into the sheets at the pain, her ass had not been violated for several days and her captor had not bothered to lube her up. “Suck me you little bitch” She got up, wiped her tears away, and without looking at his cock, knowing there was a good chance there might be blood or shit on it, she opened her mouth wide and started sucking, trying to ignore any taste.

Pembroke was delighted, he still spanked and bit her hard to show her who was boss, but she enthusiastically kept up. They 69ed as he stuck his tongue deep in her pussy, gripping her buttocks as her mouth worked its magic on his cock. She licked him all over, and was tempted to bite into his neck to return the favour but wisely decided that inflicting pain should only go one way in their sex games. He came three times and they collapsed in bed together, sweating and panting.

“I am sorry I was ill Daddy, thank you for looking after me.”

Pembroke stroked her hair and smiled. He was sure she was lying, but this was part of the process, turning her into the person she had to pretend to be. He kissed her on the lips and was pleased to feel her tongue slide into his mouth, then her lips sucking on his tongue which had returned the compliment.

“Hmmm my God you are the sexiest girl. Next week I am going to have my schoolgirls back in front of me, but I don’t think I’d swap them with you any day of the week. I am so happy to have you down here.” Pembroke meant it. The harsh implications could not help but cause Sophie some distaste.

Pembroke fell asleep. Sophie was trapped in his arms, and lay still for several minutes, listening to his snoring. She finally moved out of his arms and made to suck his flaccid cock as gently as possible. If he did wake up, and demanded to know why she had got up, sucking his cock would be an excellent reason.

She stopped sucking when she was sure he was completely out for the count. She looked at the cage door and main door. She knew the codes for both now having watched him enter. She knew there was a three move mechanism to open the door at the top of the stairs and guessed that outside, she should be able to open a door or open a window and be out of the house and into freedom.

Part of her felt comfortable in bed with Pembroke, it was warm, and he would be relatively nice to her. She could only imagine what might happen if he caught her trying to escape. All he would have to do is wake up.

But she thought of her mother, the blue sky outside, the knowledge she was only fourteen, she could not spend a lifetime down here, she had to escape sooner or later, but the longer she was down here, the less she might want to leave! She might end up institutionalized like a mental patient refusing to leave an institution!

She tip toed towards the cage, glancing behind at the sprawling, snoring body, and typed in the code. It was right first time! She prised it open and propped it up so it did not clang shut, and moved on to the main door. Again, it opened first time!

She was almost shaking with fear. A big part of her had prayed that the codes would not work, that she could just return to her bed and sleep safely in the arms of the monster. But ‘safely’ meant being on eggshells forever and never being free. She tip toed up the stairs, she was ever so quiet, and finally got the top. She saw the everyday normality of the hall again through the crack!

She listened for the snoring, and tried to work the handle. She moved it in various directions, sideways, forward, back, but it would not budge. Damn it! She was shaking now, all it would take was Pembroke noticingt he bed was empty and she was in huge trouble. But alas, the handle still would not open! She closed her eyes and summoned all the strength she could muster, but it still did not work. Her muscles would be aching tomorrow but for no good reason!

She stoically told herself that tonight was not her night. She could try again another time, maybe with a tool. She would surely have another chance when she was let out of her cell at night, and knew both codes?

She tip toed downstairs and closed the main door. Pembroke was still snoring. She noticed the cage door had shut itself, and reached through the bars to touch the keypad with the same number.

The number didn’t work, damn fingers! She tried again, still not working. Her heart missed a beat and Pembroke stirred. She wanted to scream, her hand was shaking. She breathed deeply three times, then tried the number again. It was not working. ‘No’ she cried silently. It was the same number as before, why was it not working?

She tried and tried and realised she could not get back into the basement! Pembroke was still snoring, but would soon wake up!

Panicking, she realised the only thing for it was to go back upstairs and try the top door again. But when she typed the number into the main door console, the same thing happened, the number didn’t work for that door either! What was happening! She tried to think to clear her head, was she mixing up the numbers? But no, she changed the numbers around, used the numbers from the last time she had opened the doors, tried everything but she could not open either door!

The naked girl was trapped in a cage, literally. Ten feet away in the middle of the basement was the bed on which Pembroke was sleeping. She was stuck between the main door and the surrounding cage with no way in or out.

She started to cry, this was not fair. Why had she allowed the cage door to slip closed. Why had the numbers changed? Why had she not just stayed in bed with the monster? She stared at him, his hideous large naked form, and realised she would soon be punished in ways she did not want to think about.

She thought of a solution and tried to fight the horrible conclusion, she could either wait for him to wake up, or wake him up. What could be her explanation? She got to her knees and prayed, and sobbed quietly before making the desperate plea.

‘Daddy… ‘ she wailed quietly. She could not believe she was doing this.

Pembroke stirred again, but did not quite wake up.

“Daddy, DADDY, DADDY I’M SORRY!”

Pembroke awoke with a start, he noticed his bed was empty and looked around at the source of the wailing. It was Sophie! But she was inside the cage for some reason? She was on her knees in the naru position, tears streaming down her face. “Daddy, please, I’m sorry daddy, please have mercy on me.”

It took a while for Pembroke to figure out what had happened. She had got through the cage door, but not the main door? How had she been trapped?

“What the fuck is going on? What are you doing there?”

“I got curious, daddy please, I just wanted to see, I wasn’t trying to get away. I got locked in.”

Pembroke checked his watch. It was 12.20am. He had programmed the codes to change their last number to the number of the day of the week. Twenty minutes ago it had been Saturday, and so the two codes both ended in ‘6’. Now it was Sunday so the last number had changed to ‘7’.

He looked at her, crying, begging in her submissive pose. She must have locked herself in and out. Pembroke’s eyes bulged in anger. “You fucking little CUNT” He typed in the console with the 7 now at the end and it opened easily. Sophie braced herself, and shut her eyes as his huge hand reached down and grabbed her by the hair, lifted her up and pushed her against the bars of the cage.

“Who the hell do you think you are? You planned this, you thought you knew the codes didn’t you? You were trying to escape, you cheeky little BITCH!”

Ignoring her screams, he hit her with an open palm and she collapsed to the ground. He grabbed her hair again and yanked her to her feet. “What were you trying to do? You were going to escape, you were going to leave me, and I bet you thought of seeing your fucking mummy and the fucking POLICE!”

Sophie’s eyes bulged wide in terror at this grunting red face. She had never seen him or any man as angry as this. She did not respond but hyperventilated, not knowing what could happen. In frustration, Pembroke slapped her again and this time the side of her head crashed against the iron bars.

Sophie’s world started to spin, she felt blood coming from the side of her head, and instinctively tried to get away on hands and knees, but Pembroke followed her, and kicked her in the ass with his bare foot. She collapsed on her tummy, then got up and tried to run, somewhere, anywhere in the room. Pembroke took a few giant strides and tripped her, and she fell again this time with a sickening thud against the outside of her cell.

He thought she was out cold, and he grabbed her hair again and dragged her like a ragdoll across the basement floor. He pulled her up and gripped her by the throat. Through half closed eyes, she tried to pry his hand away weakly her hands.

“Please … please have mercy on me.”

“Mercy? What mercy would there have been for me if you had escaped and the police came after me? What good would mercy be for me if you weren’t here for me? You are only sorry you got caught because you are a stupid bitch. You cannot escape, you failed, didn’t you? Did you get out the front door at all? Did you? ANSWER ME!!”

Sophie felt like she was passing out. Pembroke’s manic rage had made her scared but now she was accepting of the fact she was going to die. If he choked her to death, at least it would be over with.

Pembroke let go and she fell to the ground again, gasping for air.

“Right, maybe you need some time to think about what you’ve done” He brought out the sack, and roughly tied her up with wrists behind her back. He zipped her up and sucked the air from the bag, until it was tight against her. Sophie’s fear took longer to come this time, she already thought she was dying, and breathed as much as she could, ready to expire. But the end did not come and after several minutes she realised she would continue breathing for much longer while being trapped in this airtight nightmare.

Pembroke left her, satisfied that she could just about breathe, completely immobile and crushed by the tight PVC material. He turned off the lights and went up to his real bed. He checked the door out of the broom cupboard. He could only open it with good manly strength. That weak little slut had no chance, he laughed.

He calmed down. He felt betrayed. He should have known better, the wild sex had been a ruse to get him to let her stay out of her cell, and for her to slip out through the doors having seen him enter the codes. She had not been able to open the upstairs door because she was a weak little girl and she had not been able to open the cage door to get safely back to bed because she had not realized the code would change at midnight. Bad luck for her, he ruefully smiled.

He found it hard to get to sleep. He felt like a kid at school where he had been made fun of, and girls had pretended to like him then gossiped about him being a creep. She had come close to escape, she had obviously tried to sneak back in after having failed to get past the top door but who knows if she had kept trying! He needed better security.

He decided to take a late-night drive to calm himself after checking she was still alive on the monitor. It was kicking out time at the local club and he watched dozens of young girls in skimpy dresses in the summer heat flirting with boys, laughing and screaming. Some were probably his pupils and he reminded himself not to loiter. The loud bravado of the girls just made him angrier. It was like they were mocking him. He went to an empty car park where he sat and thought. One girl appeared out of nowhere, looked around, and hiked up her skirt to pee. He watched her, his hand tightening around the gear stick. She had great legs, nice figure, and a cute pixie haircut. If it weren’t for so much CCTV, he could easily walk over, hit her as he had hit Sophie, and have his way with her, maybe even drag her back to his basement. Let Sophie know she was not irreplaceable.

He finally calmed down as the girl ran back to her friends. It was normal that Sophie would want to escape, he thought. Look at it as a positive, he had a fright but would double security, and teach her a lesson, that it was not worth it to even try to escape in the future. He drove home, checked she was still alive, noting there was still slight breathing and movement, and went to sleep.

The following morning, he went down to the basement and unzipped her. She had never been left this long with such constrictive movement in the sack. Her eyes could not focus as he opened the mesh up and she wheezed like mad. She babbled incoherently and seemed to be half dreaming.

“Sophie? SOPHIE?” He slapped her face again. Her head was badly cut, there was blood over one side of her face and the other side was massively swollen up. She had another huge black eye. He tended to the head wound, and used antisceptics and bandaged it.

“You had no right to try and escape, and it was pointless anyway. I am not angry because I thought you would escape, I know you can’t. It’s that you tried. I am afraid you need to learn a lesson.”

He zipped her up again and worked the vacuum pump again to squeeze her inside the sack. Then he went upstairs, got his mother up and fed, and googled for the nearest pet store, and was pleased to see it was open on a Sunday. He checked the time, drove his mother to an early church service, and stopped off at Bob’s home pet store on the way home.

On that same morning, in London, Teresa Yildiz felt a pang of fear about her “assignment” given to her by Tommy. It was a BDSM date, with a top lawyer. Even though it was Sunday, she was to go to a small office in central London. It was a posh but small lawyers office, the area was deserted given it was Sunday, but her client would be in. She assumed he worked there.

Thomas Peck was just five feet six inches tall, he suffered from autism and just general awkwardness. He came from an accomplished family and his older brother was the CEO of an investment bank. But little Thomas was … different. He had never had a girlfriend, no real friends, and preferred the make-believe world of fantasy but did graduate with a first in history at Oxford which led him to a successful career as a lawyer.

Teresa was in heels and towered over the shy and unassuming Thomas Peck. She was surprised at how meek and shy he was for a lawyer and had to make all the conversation, including bringing him to the awkward subject about what he actually wanted to do.

He seemed unsure of himself, even embarrassed to speak. Teresa maintained a calm and composed demeanor, smiling warmly and sympathising with him. This poor guy must have never had much female attention, despite how rich he was and she felt sorry for him.

“I … I would like to tie you up … I hope you don’t mind.” Thomas’s voice was soft and uncertain, almost swallowed by the silence of the small office. The way he suggested it, with his eyes darting to the floor and his hands nervously fidgeting, was almost comical.

At first, Teresa was taken aback. She’d expected him to be shy, but the timid way he asked was somehow both endearing and awkward. A slight grin crept onto her lips, and she laughed softly. “Okay then,” she said, letting a hint of amusement lighten her voice.

“Err … not here,” Thomas stammered, his eyes darting nervously toward the office door. “We have a basement office … in case, you know … people come in. Even though it’s Sunday, I prefer privacy.”

“Okay,” she replied, forcing a casual smile. “Lead the way.”. It wasn’t unusual for clients to request a private setting, but she had to be careful and keep her wits about her. Then again, this was a law firm, they must be above board and he was nervous and shy. He seemed harmless.

Teresa was taken by the decor of the basement office—the antlers mounted on the wall, the classic paintings, the suit of arrmor in the corner, and the large mahogany table at the center, surrounded by stacks of law books. It was an unusual setting for this kind of encounter, yet the ambiance was strangely intriguing. She gave Thomas a reassuring smile.

“Would you like me to disrobe?” she asked, her voice soft yet confident. Thomas blushed and nodded, his eyes flickering with both excitement and anxiety.

Teresa proceeded to slowly peel off her clothes, maintaining a playful but calm demeanor. She noticed that Thomas seemed to relax slightly, but his nervousness was still palpable. When he subtly gestured toward the mahogany table, she followed his cue and positioned herself accordingly.

As Teresa bent over the table, she felt Thomas’s tentative hands as he tied her wrists and ankles to the four corners. His touch was gentle but unsteady, suggesting he was not accustomed to this kind of intimacy.

Teresa made a conscious effort to keep the atmosphere relaxed, engaging him in light conversation to help him feel more at ease.

Even as she played her part, Teresa couldn’t help but think about the vulnerability of this shy, awkward lawyer. It wasn’t just about fulfilling his fantasies—it was about offering him a brief escape from his reserved world, a moment of connection and understanding. This should be easy money, she thought.

When Thomas Peck was sure Teresa was secured, he swallowed and knelt behind her. He felt her peachy ass, running his hands up and down her strong thighs, and slowly moved his face towards her pussy, and licked her. Teresa sighed, this felt nice. Thomas was conscious of his mico penis, and so wanted to use his tongue to pleasure her that way. She tasted so nice to him.

After several minutes, he managed to make Teresa cum. She struggled against her bonds, vibrating with pleasure. “Ohhhh baby, that felt so good, you are so talented with your tongue, hmmm”

Peck blushed and smiled. “Thank you.” But he still wanted to progress to the main event. He had dreamt of this, and having looked up who Teresa was, thought this the perfect opportunity. He went to the corner of the room and picked up a cane. He bit his lip. It was now or never.

Teresa was still basking in the afterglow of her orgasm, bent over the table, and moving her ass slowly in the air in pleasure. She did not notice the cane, nor the swish as it flew through the air.

‘CRACCCCKKK’ it landed right across her posterior.

“Aaaaaaa Aaa ow ow ow” she squealed “What the fuck, let me go, ow that was so sore!”

“Youre a bad girl, you let your daughter go missing, didn’t you?” the shy Thomas Peck was now mocking her! The transition was abrupt, and not at all what Teresa had anticipated from someone who seemed so meek and mild only moments ago.

“What the fuck, let me go. I am here for sex that’s all not for you to hit me, let me go Thomas. Listen, if you let me go now, I will just leave and that’s it, but if not…”

‘CRACCKKK’ another swish of the cane and it landed perfectly across the top her buttocks. She jumped up in the air, only held down by the cuffs.

“AAaaaaa it hurts! it hurts! Please Thomas, don’t do this to me, please, ow o wow…”

Thomas smiled now. He could see two red welts across her ass, and her feet were stomping up and down in frustration which was all she could do in her limited position.

He hit her again. “You are a whore, and you let your daughter get taken from you. You deserve this! It’s your fault Sophie is missing!”

“OOOOwww no, you don’t talk about my daughter, she’s my daughter, let me go, let me…”

‘CRAACCK” Teresa continued to howl, and shake, her voluptuous body now rocking like a lava lamp, trying desperately to get free while screaming.

The strikes continued relentlessly. Thomas had always fancied whipping a woman, but he could not persuade any girl to be the victim. Even escorts drew the line at pain. But he had been told by Tommy that Teresa would let him, if he tied her up, and she was desperate for the money so would not cause problems.

Teresa continued to scream but no one could hear down here in an empty office. She began crying, especially against the cruel taunts about her daughter. “I love my daughter, I love her, I did everything I could … God … please don’t hit me again!”

But this was followed up by another strike and her ass was soon a bloody mess. Her body was covered in sweat and her face, facing down to the floor, was covered in tears which dripped onto the expensive carpet.

Finally, Peck came in his pants, after a particularly satisfying scream from Teresa. He released her hands and ordered her to put her hands behind her back.

“No, why should I, what are you going to do to me?”

“I just want to protect myself, we are finished here, I want to get you out of this building.”

Teresa agreed, and she let him untie her ankles, and dress her. He put her knickers back on followed by all the rest of her clothes. “I will give you the keys to the handcuffs when you are outside.”

He pushed her, limping, up the stairs and out onto an empty cul de sac which during the week was full of ambitious young lawyers. He threw out a key and then slammed the door behind her. He shouted through the letter box, “Here, you can take them off with that, then give me back the cuffs. Raise any fuss and you won’t get paid!”

Teresa freed herself, threw the keys and cuffs to the ground in anger and defiance, and tried to march away. But her ass was burning. She was in floods of tears.

What kind of sick fantasist would pay so much money to do this to a poor mother like me? Teresa thought to herself. She called Tommy angrily who assured her she would get paid but that it was part of the job and he would try and see if he could get more money out of it.

Teresa had to stand on the train home, she would not be able to sit down for a week. Blood was pouring down her legs from the cuts on her buttocks. She burst into tears when she got into her flat. She lay on her stomach in bed, after applying some lotion on her ass. She reflected on how disgusting men are, and prayed that Sophie, wherever she was, would not be subject to such crude, violent and perverted behaviour.

Unfortunately, on that same Sunday, Sophie’s face resembled her mother’s backside. Both were covered in bloody marks and bruises. Pembroke released the zip and opened the mesh.

Sophie gasped in fright as the mesh was pulled away from her face, her breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts. Her eyes were unfocused, as if blind to the world around her, yet they were wide with fear, anticipating more pain, more confinement.

She gurgled and stuttered rather than spoke, as Pembroke zipped the whole bag down. He was disgusted to see that once again she had soiled herself. He quickly inspected her body and saw that the main damage appeared to be to her face. He swabbed the side of it down with antisceptic again and wiped off the blood. As he touched the swelling on the other side she made her first significant noise, a scream of pain.

Pembroke zipped her up again save for her face. Now the air was getting into the bag she had some more movement and her limbs hurt even more with the movement after hours of crushing immobility.

He placed her on a chair facing the table on which there was something covered in a red blanket. He then left the basement, eager to get away from the smell and wanting her to recover and fester for a while.

Sophie’s sanity slowly came back. She had tried to escape last night, been caught, and had been wrapped in this horrible sack all night, barely able to breathe. Her claustrophobia cruelly used against her again. As the minutes went on in silence, she wondered what more cruelty there could be from him. She started to wonder what was within the blanket, it looked like a box? She detected movement within it, then the sounds of scurrying about, like there was something alive within it.

She thought back to her conversations with Luke and her heart opening confessions of what terrified her. As she tried to decipher the sounds and movements from below the blanket, a sense of dread grew to terror, as she realised what was going to happen…

Pembroke sat upstairs, watching on his laptop. He was intrigued, he had wondered how he would introduce her to his new ‘pet rat’ he had just bought from the pet shop, and thought that maybe her imagination might be the best way. The best horror movies never showed the monster unless necessary, and right now Sophie’s mind was being torn apart.

She started crying and screaming. Outside of the sack, wide bindings strapped her to the chair, preventing her from falling off it. Pembroke watched her swaying and shaking, as if she was trying to deliberately tip the chair over, as if falling to the ground might somehow help her escape.

“Please … no … please I’m sorry … I’M SORRY!!!” Her cries echoed around the empty basement. Pembroke smiled, she had not even seen the rat yet! Poor thing, it was probably as frightened of her as she was of it.

Pembroke walked nonchantly downstairs and into the basement. He calmly walked to her side and played with her hair, her head being the only part of her exposed to the air.

“You seem very agitated, my child. And what are you sorry about?”

Sophie could not think straight. “Please sir … daddy … I tried to escape. I should never have done that, you were right. But now I swear I won’t try again. Honestly, you can lock the doors more, you can lock me in all the time, I won’t get out I won’t try I’ll be your slave … just please … please…” Tears fell from her eyes, mixed with blood from her seeping wound. She let out a thin moan of despair as she closed her eyes.

Pembroke was impressed. He may not even have needed to spend that money on Mr Rat! Sophie had not been exaggerating when she had told Luke that she had once not been able to sleep one night from the memory of a rat running over her shoe on the street. It must have been very therapeutic for Sophie, at the time, to reveal her darkest fears online, and it had served her captor now as well.

“It was a serious crime that you committed. Down here, that is worthy of the death penalty. And I can easily impose that sentence, any time, if I do so wish. But you are worth more to me alive for the time being.”

Dramatically, Pembroe whisked away the blanket like a magician unveiling a grand illusion. But instead of magic, Sophie found herself face to face with a cage, inside of which a large rodent scurried about, its scaly tail flicking back and forth with nervous energy. It raced across the cage’s floor, climbing the metal bars and darting from corner to corner, its tiny eyes locked on Sophie as if assessing whether she was a threat—or potential prey.

Pembroke turned to look at Sophie, only to see her eyes roll back in her head as her neck went limp and her face fell to her chest. This would not do, and she got some water and splashed it on her.

She came around, the rat coming into her view. “Please … please no… “ she whispered.

“Why not what? Oh you mean maybe let your new friend join you in your sack?” He suddenly play tickled her through the sack causing her to jump and jerk on the chair and squeal in terror.

“Remember I don’t need your mind to function properly, in fact, I think you having a mind at all looks like it might cause both of us more trouble than it is worth. If you read books in your cell or if you just lie there like a doll drooling out of her mouth, what difference does it make to me? What do I want with some lying little bitch who dares to think about defying me?”

Sophie’s voice trembled as she pleaded with Pembroke. “Please, not me. Not the rat,” she whispered, her words barely audible over the frantic scurrying of the creature in the cage. The rodent’s tail whipped against the metal bars, and each tap was a countdown that echoed in her skull, a reminder of what could happen if Pembroke decided to release it. Her body shook with fear, a fear that surpassed even the darkest moments of her captivity.

“Who should I do it to, if not you?”

“Do it to someone else,” she begged, her eyes wide with desperation. “Not me. Anyone but me.” Her words came out in a rush, a frantic stream of pleas and half-sobbed promises. She couldn’t bear the thought of that thing touching her, of feeling its sharp claws or the brush of its fur against her skin.

Pembroke stood over her, his gaze impassive, his fingers playing with the latch on the cage. Sophie’s heart raced, her breath coming in short, frantic bursts. She knew that begging might be futile, that Pembroke had already made up his mind, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Please, let it be someone else. Anyone else, what about my sister, why don’t you take my sister, I can help you!!.” Tears streaked her cheeks, her voice breaking as she grasped at the last shreds of hope. “Or my mother, I swear I can help you, you can do it with them, or any other girls, just please, please not me!”

Pembroke’s lips curled into a thin smile as he watched Sophie fall apart. He savored her desperation, the way her pleas grew more frantic with each passing moment.

“Your sister?” he mused, tilting his head as if considering the idea. “Your mother, too?” He clicked the latch of the cage, letting it swing open slightly, just enough to make Sophie flinch and squeeze her eyes shut. “You’re willing to sacrifice your own family to save yourself?” His voice was cold, clinical, each word dripping with disdain.

Sophie sobbed, her body shaking with the force of her fear. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t believe she was even suggesting such things. But the rat—its teeth, its claws—she couldn’t bear the thought of it anywhere near her. “Yes, yes, please,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “Anyone but me, please, I can help you. I can—”

Sophie’s sobs grew louder, her shoulders heaving with each breath. She was trapped, cornered, and her mind raced with guilt and terror. She didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know how to fix what she’d said. All she knew was that she wanted to escape, to avoid the rat, to be anywhere but here. And she would say or do anything to make it happen.

Teresa tried to sleep that night but the pain in her ass cheeks prevented it. The bandages she had applied barely stopped the blood seeping onto her bed sheets. She had cried again over the phone to Tommy, and the receipt of the money had been a small consolation. She did not dare go to the hospital out of shame, and fear they would call the police and the media might hear of it.

She would have to call in sick tomorrow for work. She would not be able to do any escort work until this healed if it ever did. She cried in physical pain and the depths she had sunk to. That fucking weirdo who had beaten her, used her with his money to satisfy some sick urges. She had a horrible thought/ Maybe he, or someone like him, had taken Sophie. Maybe what Teresa had just experienced was just a small taste of her daughter’s everyday reality. Some twisted perverted scumbag living a normal, respectable life of a harmless loner, like Thomas Peck, who harboured these fantasies of hurting women. God, please, she cried, please don’t let this have happened to Sophie.

That evening, Pembroke relaxed on his living room sofa next to his mother. Ronald the rat played with a toy in a cage in the corner of the living room. He had taken quite a liking to his new rodent friend, and figured he made a nice homely addition to their household. He would have to explain to the carers who visited, of course, in case they had a heart attack, but Ronald was friendly and cute. The carers might like Ronald, surely a man who could befriend and care for a humble little rat must have a good heart?

An advertisement break came on the TV movie, so he switched his laptop on again, and checked on Sophie again. She was safely in her cell, curled up in a ball in her old school uniform.

He then opened and played, for the umpteenth time, the video he had recorded of her earlier that day after she had finished her ‘playtime’ with Ronald. She had been washed, changed into her uniform in which she had been originally captured, sat in a chair, and been interviewed on camera. Much of it was scripted but she had been able to add in some gaps herself, she knew what was expected.

His laptop screen filled with an image of a schoolgirl sat down, her legs spread slightly to show off the triangle of white panties she wore under her skirt. Her face was marked with a black eye on one side, and a bloody gash beside the other eye. Her wild red hair was brushed away from her face to display her pale gaunt features and haunted eyes as her hands gripped the seat of the chair.

“I want to say something to my family. Firstly, I only have one father now, its my new Daddy, whom I now serve here. There is no one else, just him. He keeps me alive and I look after him in all the ways he wants me to.

To my mummy and my sister, Jenny, I hope we can meet again one day, maybe in heaven. I will spend the rest of my days on earth serving my daddy. I do not want to get away from him and I don’t want anyone to look for me. This is my destiny in life. Don’t worry about me, I like sex now and it is what my daddy wants from me most and my only role in life now is to serve him and make him happy with my body.

You can see that sometimes my daddy gets angry with me, but it is always my fault. I must do as I am told or I get hurt, but that’s OK because my daddy looks after me and owns me, body and soul. What I want or fear is not important, everything is about what daddy wants, and I have to think about Him first beyond myself.”

Pembroke smiled. Perfect, he thought, maybe sometime in the future it might be apt to release it online, but not yet. The advertisement break ended, and Pembroke shut the laptop down again and put his feet back up to enjoy the rest of the movie.

Chapter 34

As his new pupils walked into the classroom, Pembroke smiled at them, welcoming them to the new term. He asked a brief question as to if anyone had got up to anything interesting over the summer. Of course, he would never reveal to them that he had kidnapped a girl of their age, whom they would all have heard of, and had been sexually abusing her constantly.

As he excitedly talked about how computers work, the girls in his class got bored and chattered and he had to tell them to shut up. Some were very loud and brash, he was scared of them. As the week wore on, as he caught more and more glimpses of schoolgirl panties up their skirts as they sat, his libido grew yet also his frustration and fear with it.

His new toy, built in front of Sophie’s cell as she watched, was a St Andrew’s cross. He was proud that most of the instruments of Sophie’s abuse were built from hand and with her measurements in mind. On the first day after school, Pembroke’s mind had been swimming all day with images of the girls in their short skirts, and their long legs tanned from the summer. He immediately ordered a school uniform of his school, green blazer, green skirt, white blouse, black socks and green and black tie.

Sophie was now onto Sense and Sensibility. But she found it hard to escape into the pages while this hulking man was loudly assembling a torture device metres from her. He had hauled her out and splayed her arms up and spread her legs to measure her against the two planks connected in an ‘X’ shape. He didn’t talk to her when he did, it was like she was a plastic thing to be manipulated. Even a pet animal would have warranted some affection.

Some of the affection was overpowering. He had licked and sucked every square inch of her body, and deep inside each of her orifices as far as his tongue could reach. Pembroke has almost memorised the folds of her pussy and now knew what tongue movement and where would make her jump and moan the most. Sophie could hardly contain herself as she squirted on his face and felt fantastic for a few seconds after she could cum. She worried, her body was starting to betray her, might her mind follow eventually? Her asshole, into which she had previously not inserted anything, or even looked at, was now a daily playground for Pembroke’s mouth, cock, fingers, and now Sophie herself. Pembroke encouraged her (with the threat of violence) to finger herself there on video for him to look at and she grew to at first tolerate, then enjoy the sensation.

There were no dildos for Sophie. Her captor preferred his own cock to be the only thing that violated her to a significant degree. While it would be wonderful to hear Sophie scream and her eyes bulge out of her head as a ten inch thick dildo went into her cervix, he did not want her pussy and asshole to be so stretched that she would lose the intense look on her face each and every time his cock plumbed the depths of her insides.

Likewise, he was careful not to put any dildo down her throat that was bigger than him. While it might have improved her skill, it would mean she would lose that gagging reflex that she got when he lost himself, and roughly grabbed her by the back of the head, and forced her face against his stomach as he felt the head of his penis squeeze down her windpipe, tickled, he imagined, by her quivering tonsils. She still threw up sometimes after such rough oral sex, and while it was of course disgusting and she had to clean it up afterwards, he did love the sound and sights of her struggling face as the vomit came up around his cock and her helpless, red and breathless face afterwards. Everything had a price, he thought.

A birch tree in a local park had provided Pembroke with a free and useful piece of discipline equipment. A small branch had been broken off and taken home and he used it on Sophie for minor infractions to immediately correct her, for instance when her fingering of his asshole was less than enthusiastic, or if she had forgotten to play with herself for the cameras at an ‘agreed’ time, and especially if he found hairs on her body which she had missed when shaving. She always held her breath as he traced a finger around her armpits, her bumhole and around her pussy lips. She knew that just a singular piece of dark red stubble would mean pain.

Pembroke loved licking all over her, and her smooth skin, when not unblemished by marks, felt delightful on his tongue as he would start from the soles of her feet, up her sinewy legs and over her buttocks and down into her crack and he would lose himself in the tastes of her private areas as she bucked and moaned. Sophie also loved the sensation of his tongue traversing her spine and ribs as it worked up her back to her neck. Not only could she not hide it when she came, she could not disguise the soft moaning and heavy breathing as he licked and kissed her there.

There was no part of her he did not love, but her hands did not particularly interest him. And so it was here that drew the attentions of the birch branch. She would have to hold her hand out, while he brought the thin branch down on her palms with a thwack. He enjoyed the look of anticipation on her face, the gritted teeth, before he hit her with it.

Sophie never got used to the pain. As soon as she felt his finger dwell slightly longer than usual on the skin around her anus, signifying he had come across an unshaved hair, or if she heard an angry sigh while sucking on his cock, she knew that her hands would bear the brunt of her infraction. She would start crying before it even hit, and as soon as it did, she clasped her hand in the other, and hopped from foot to foot in pain. The pain rose like a slow crescendo, for a minute it was unbearable, and then he would ask her to put her hand out again, for the second punishment if she had committed some other error that day.

As a result, her palms were soon permanently criss crossed with red welts. Pembroke reminded her that he did not particularly mind this and related it to her escape attempt.

“Now Sophie, you promised not only to not try and escape again, but also that you would help me keep you safe and secure, so is there anything you want to tell me? Is there anything you can think of in your cell, or the wider basement, that could be used to help you escape? What about the codes, have you seen them recently? Any ideas on preventing any other unfortunate attempts?”

She found it soul destroying to have to give him ideas on how to make this a more effective prison. She told him that as she would grow bigger, she might have more strength to open the cell door herself and that he should lock it with a key. She even advised him to put back on the fingerprint security for the cage and main door.

“Good girl. You have the right attitude, you are an obedient slave who will never escape, it should be your aim to help your daddy in this endeavour.”

He also took some twisted pleasure in reminding her about her sore hands. “You see, not only do I not find your palms that sexy, I don’t see what good they do me. They seem superfluous. What do you use them for? Shaving yourself, fingering yourself and me, holding yourself up. You know, if I broke your fingers, you might still be able to stick them up your pussy and my ass, but you wouldn’t be able to open any door handles anymore. What do you think of that?”

His request, though presented as reasonable, was anything but. The color drained from Sophie’s face. Perhaps he was joking, teasing, but how could she respond. She had presented herself as this obedient, pliant slave who would never dream of escaping or disobeying him. What reason could she give him for wanting the full function of her hands. This was ridiculous, in the outside world of course she needed them. To have a job, to play with friends, to write, to hold her future children. But if she were to spend the rest of her life, day after day, as nothing other than a lump of meat for him to fuck, what use were workable hands? She did not dare admit to him the truth. She could deal with the rapes and the torture and the beatings, but she still harboured a dream that one day she would be free. Surely, she could not spend a lifetime here? Admitting the fear of a life changing injury, was basically admitting she harboured a dream of a happy, normal life, and that would not do.

“Sir, please, I need my hands, I can use them”

“What for? I mean, I need my hands, I love grabbing every part of you down here. But I am also outside, in the free world, where I can use and enjoy my hands and the rest of me. But you … you’re just a slave, a prisoner. Your hands are an inconvenience to me, you might use tem to escape, they are of no benefit to me, in fact, maybe if I cut of your thumbs it would make no difference to how sexy you look. But I would have to worry less about you doing something stupid…”

Sophie tried to calm herself. If she started crying or begging, it would be an admission she wanted her hands for her future. She had to be smart. She had to adapt to his whims.

“Daddy, I can massage you with my hands if you allow me full use of them still. You know I cannot escape, and I am not strong like you. But I can use my hands to massage me, maybe you can show me videos where I can learn and help you relax.”

Pembroke smiled. He had not been serious about breaking her fingers or thumbs and put the proposition to her as a test. He was not fooled, of course no one, not even a prisoner serving a life sentence, wanted their hands broken! And of course she still dreamt of freedom. But her response pleased him. Yes, he would get her to massage him, and she would have to get good at it. For now, the constant switches on her hands, which were affecting her ability to handle things anyway, were enough punishment.

“Yes, my child, good answer. I will get you to learn massage. Remember, you need to be useful to me, every part of you. There’s a reason your ass never gets whipped but your hands do, make yourself useful and sexy and I will let you be.”

Sophie sobbed later by herself. She ran her fingers over the welts on her palms, just to clench her fists brought pain. Day by day she felt her fire of life disappearing, could she just exist in this state for years, for decades?

Later that day, or so she thought, as time was a mystery to her unless Pembroke gave her a clue, they were lying together in the bed. Pembroke was in a daze of happiness after giving her another hard fucking.

“You know Sophie, when I was going to take you, one thing that really played on my mind, that I was really afraid of, was that I would be too nice. I thought I would feel guilty and let you go. I didn’t even think I could bring myself to hit you!”

He rolled onto his elbow, leaning over her as she lay on her back. His touch was light but deliberate, tracing a slow line across her collarbone. His gaze wandered from her shoulders, down her body, then back up to her eyes, his expression unreadable.

“But I have learned so much about myself these past few months. You are a lovely girl, Sophie, and I do feel sorry for you. God, your poor mum. But there is something inside me that is stronger, it’s the will to own you. I’m better than you, it’s my right to own you.” His hand on her lower rib cage suddenly pressed harder, and his cock grew hard again.

Sophie’s hands trembled slightly at her sides, and she instinctively curled them into loose fists, trying to hide her fear.

“There is no part of me that is going to let you go Sophie. You have to accept that. Part of me wants to hurt your, sometimes. But I can keep that side in check if you behave. But there is no part of me that feels sorry enough for you that I will treat you as anything more than a slave. God, you know before this I had barely hit anyone in my life, it was me that got bullied!” Pembroke turned to the ceiling, as if convening with God. “They say power tests people, well I’ve given myself power over you my dear, and I will never let it go, this is me. All those girls I deal with every day, you are going through what I want to do to them all.”

He moved his hand to her breasts, and kneaded her nipple, breathing heavily, and suddenly attacked her like a wildcat, biting on her nipple as she screamed in fright. He bit all the way down her body, as she pulled on her hair in terror. Finally, his bites turned to a mellow sucking as his mouth found her pussy, and she relaxed. Pleasure, mixed with despair, as she lay back and once more accepted her fate.

That Friday, Pembroke faced more malarkey in this classroom. The girls were playing around and he kept telling them to behave. “Fucking paedo” he heard one girl whisper followed by bouts of laughter.

Pembroke looked at the gang of girls in fury. “Shut up or you will all go in detention!”

He had a right to be angry. Rumours of being a paedophile were his worst nightmare and he always tried to behave himself appropriately at school. It was one reason why he had resisted all temptations to include any of his numerous hot, cute young pupils in his list of potential targets for kidnap and sex slavery. And this was how they repaid him!

He noticed one of the girls giggling, Kim Harvey. She was quieter than the rest, but cute with dirty blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and a slim, slight figure.

As the class ended and the pupils marched out, he stopped Kim. “You, wait behind!”

Kim’s face quickly turned from calm and happy to one of terror. She was a good girl, always well-behaved, and the idea of getting in trouble with her teacher was beyond what she could imagine. She regretted laughing with the other girls—she’d only joined in because she was a little scared of them. Now she was in trouble with her teacher! She hoped she wouldn’t get detention!

“Now, Kim,” Pembroke approached her sternly. “You were quite badly behaved in class today. I hope I will not see a repeat of that. I should punish you with … detention.”

“No, please sir, I’m sorry, I…” She felt her heart sink. She’d been singled out, even though she hadn’t started the commotion. The thought of getting detention brought tears to her eyes. “I won’t do it again, sir, honest, please don’t give me detention.”

As Pembroke looked at the petite, skinny schoolgirl with her large pleading brown eyes. He saw her fear, how it seemed to tighten her shoulders and make her hands clasp nervously in front of her. He thought of years ago, when he could just calmly and legally direct her to his desk, tell her to bend over, then pull up her skirt and give her a good thrashing on her backside with his hand or a cane. Those must have been the days!

She was like putty in his hands. There was no fight in her. He felt the same power he held in his basement with Sophie. He mentally undressed Kim and had to hold his hands by his side to avoid reaching out and grabbing her.

Then he heard a loud shout from a nearby teacher, directing other pupils to his classroom and he remembered where he was. God, he was in the outside world in school! This sexy girl might be meek and frightened, but she had the protection of the hundreds of people around her, her family, the police the teachers. If she only knew the real Edward Pembroke who stood before her!

“Okay, Kim,” he said, his voice gentler now. “I’ll let you off this time, but you have to promise me you’ll behave. No more disruptions, understand?”

Kim nodded eagerly, relief washing over her. “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I promise, I won’t cause trouble again.”

“Good,” Pembroke replied, giving her a small, reassuring smile. “Now, go on, get to your next class.” He watched her scurry out the door, and thought of just how unlucky poor Sophie had been. Really, what happened to her could, and should, happen to a lot more of these girls!

That evening, Pembroke joined some teachers in the pub after school. It was good not to be a total loner, he reasoned.

“So more of these refugees then, coming into school as pupils it’s a joke! Saying they are 16 and they’ve grey hair!” cackled a Ms Grimshaw, an old English teacher with wild hair. “It’s ridiculous!”

“Yes, where are all the women and children, that’s what I want to know” muttered Pembroke. He was really annoyed at the lack of vulnerable young girls and women pouring into the country, having imagined they should really provide a splendid reservoir of young females who could go missing without even being reported.

“They will be all over the schoolgirls, I fear for their safety it isn’t right to put grown men in a class room with young girls” Ms Grimshaw continued.

“Now, now, Eleanor” said Mr Bakhu, the chemistry teacher, sipping his pint “you can’t say that, there are white sex offenders out there as well!”

Pembroke stayed silent.

“Well, I think some of the skirts these girls are wearing this year are terrible. Honestly I did not know where to look today!”Mrs Hanson, another English teacher, joined in, disgusted. “Why, does the headmaster not say something! There’s some girls that I could tell you what color of knickers they wear every day!”

“I agree” said Mr Pembroke “we should not be sexualising children. It’s a tragedy that we are having sex education now as well, maybe that is what is leading to this lewd behaviour and dressing. I believe kids should be kids.”

“Damn right Edward” Mr Grimshaw responded “ the parents need to be told they should not be sexualising them. But we need to teach them to stay away from these predators we are letting in.”

“That’s racist Eleanor!” responded Mr Bakhu. Meanwhile, Pembroke was getting distracted by the sight of the lovely barmaid serving behind the bar. She had been a pupil last year and had now left to work here. Her low cut top, her pretty smile, the memory of her in her skimpy school uniform just a few months ago, as well as the talk of the color of girls knickers and his encounter with Kim Harvey, was making his cock hard.

“Listen, I have to go” he said. “ I will see you all on Monday!”

That evening, went straight to the basement. He had drank three pints and was dying for a piss. He stripped naked and brought out the green and black school uniform of his school, and then went over to the cell with the occupant inside. His first words to Sophie were:

“Get out, come on, and change into this, make sure you change your knickers as well, I want you in the white panties”

His cock was semi hard but his kidneys were also painful with the need to urinate. “Come on girl, button it up! You know how to put a tie on don’t you!”

Sophie had previously been daydreaming about scenes from her book, with her head in her hands to blot out the artificial light. It was the only way to trick her mind into escaping from this existence. Seconds later, she was confronted with the bloated naked morass of her captor, and squeezing into a school uniform, knowing that some sick game was afoot.

“Good, spin around, fuck…”

Pembroke grabbed her and snogged her hard. He reached down and put his hand up her skirt, feeling her pert buttocks and slipping his hand under her panties. He imagined doing this to Kim Harvey.

After an age, he finally gave in to his bodily needs. “Uggh, right, down on your knees, pull your skirt up a bit and show some more leg, that’s it … right now don’t move, I’m gonna piss all over you…”

He sighed in relief as a long hot yellow streak of piss escaped from his cock and onto Sophie’s chest, soaking her blouse and revealing her tits and nipples underneath the soaking fabric. The steam went into her nostrils. The hot alcohol flavoured piss was disgusting but she steeled herself not to flinch. She knew worse was coming.

He moved his aim up to her face, and splashed all over her cheeks, forehead and nose, her mouth and eyes shut. He moved to her hair, finding it satisfying how he was able to soak her hair so the frizzy strands smoothed out under the gentle pressure, flattening against her scalp like a second skin.

“Oh that is fucking lovely, now tip your head up darling and open your mouth, its going in there now I want it collect in your mouth…”

She did as she was told and let it collect inside until it spilled out. He stopped pissing momentarily.

“Good stuff. Now, keep your eyes open, and this time I will piss in your mouth for a few seconds to fill it up, then I want you to gurgle it, and swallow, all of it OK? I don’t want to see any spillage!”

Sophie opened her eyes and stared at his cock head, the urine stinging her eyeballs as it fell from her forehead. She opened wide and felt the hot piss hit the back of her throat and splash out. He stopped, and she felt the hot sticky pool of piss in her mouth. “Gurgle it!”

She gurgled, while watching his horny, grinning face, then swallowed it all down. Instantly, she had to fight the reflex in her stomach not to throw it all back up. She doubled over, retched, then came back up to her position on her knees.

“Good girl well done! OK, more!”

This time he pissed on her eyes, and on her nostrils causing her to cough, for his amusement. As she spilled some from her mouth, he gently kicked her with his foot. “Take it in your mouth! I want your mouth full of piss for you to gurgle on!”

Eventually the piss collected up to the level of her teeth again, and she swallowed. She thought she had got away with it, but her stomach had other ideas, and she suddenly drooped forwards and vomited out the yellow warm liquid with some traces of her breakfast on the ground in front of her, while Pembroke laughed and continued pissing on her back and top of her head.

Finally, he finished, and looked down at the poor girl, in a school uniform now yellowed and soaking with steam rising off her, surrounded in a pool of piss and vomit. Her face was covered in tears and drool as well as the strands of hair stuck across her eyes.

He laughed. “I will get you to clean this up soon. My God it smells bad. But for now, just suck me, make me cum and get the rest of the piss out of my cock. Come on!”

Sophie was glad that piss was over and sucked hard on him, knowing that the sooner he came, the sooner she could change and wash herself and get rid of this disgusting smell and sticky plasma that was all over her. Pembroke’s revulsion at the smell was made up for by the sight of a schoolgirl sucking at his cock and her now well practiced tongue milking him to completion. Even her hands cupping his ass cheeks felt great, he could feel the welts, made by the birch branch, rub nicely against his skin and congratulated himself for this welcome side effect of his punishments.

He looked down at the head bobbing on his cock, the red hair now looking a dark brown from the wet piss, and the soaked uniform, the blouse now a distinct light yellow, and fancied it was Kim sucking him and not Sophie. He let out a roar of delight as he flooded her mouth with sperm and stepped back in a daze.

“That was … amazing. I’m sorry Sophie I know it tastes disgusting I don’t blame you for being sick. Here, shower it away and wash yourself, and put those dirty clothes there. I will help you clean. My God that is fucking amazing!”

Sophie’s old schoolmates were now back in school was well. They felt guilty about their absent classmate. Emma had got into trouble from being traced as uploading the photos, but due to her age and the fact that there were dozens if not hundreds of people who had also done the same, she had not been charged.

The school received a lecture on revenge porn and the dangers of sharing naked images and videos. There was even a memorial service for Sophie, who was now widely presumed to be dead, from suicide. As Teresa returned from a care job, she saw the girls from Sophie’s school laughing and playing at a bus stop, and sadly remembered her daughter and how awful she must have felt about the videos and images, but mostly about her poor daughter and hows she wished she would come home.

Chapter 35
Teresa Yildiz came home after another afternoon ‘appointment’ then went straight to her night shift at the care home. She might as well make the most of the last few years of her looks, and take the money. She thought of how she might spend tomorrow after finally getting some sleep. She could go through all the emails and messages from her new website about leads for Sophie, or try and call her other daughter. Jenny was furious with her about the death of Rodney Jackson and her interference in the police investigation. She was coming to the conclusion that Sophie was dead, whether suicide or murder, and was thinking of returning to Australia, this time for good.

There was still interest in Sophie’s disappearance and journalists and amateur sleuths were still roaming around, though both the Yildizes were sick of them. One such amateur sleuth was one Dale Forsythe, who had been around the pubs near where Sophie lived. After chatting with bar staff of local pubs, and passing letters to some flats in and around Sophie’s tower block, he got some leads.

Many were happy just to talk over the phone or skype which suited Mr Fosyth just fine. After his failure to get any response from Jenny or Teresa, nor any interesting information, he was just about to give up, when he had a fascinating conversation from an old Jamaican lady, Gladys, who demanded a hundred pounds up front for information.

“Hello, Gladys, this is Dale Forsyth.”

“Yah, you got mi money?”

“Sorry, I can send it over now. You said you had interesting news about Teresa Yildiz?”

“Yah, she’s a bad woman, man. She was runnin’ ‘round wid men all di time when Sophie disappear. An’ now she back workin’ as a prostitute. She used to do it years ago, but now she back inna di same ting. And her daughter missin’! No shame at all.”

“How you know?”

“Mi nephew, he work for di man she work for—Tommy Petrakis. Him got her runnin’ ‘round London seein’ men for all kind of weird kinky stuff, man. Mi don’t even want to know! She ain’t just workin’ in no care home. She workin’ as a prostitute, yuh hear?”

“Who is Tommy Petrakis?”

“Him a pimp, drug dealer, all kind of tings, man. Him a real bad man. Mi don’t know why Teresa gettin’ mixed up wid these people. But she is. She inna some bad company.”

This was intriguing news. ‘Tommy Petrakis’?

Dale Forsyth was, of course, a pseudonym. Edward Pembroke had adopted a fake LinkedIn profile and after contacting dozens of people this was the only real interesting information he had gathered. Until now he had been quite disappointed.

After some more investigation, he found an escort agency linked to a night club run under Tommy Petrakis’ name. He looked at the profiles and saw a ‘VIP’ section with blacked out faces. The prices were exceedingly high. He called the number and prepared his false accent.

“Hi, my name’s James, I want to order a date.”

“Oh yeah, what girl do you want?”

“What’s the VIP section?”

“You have to pay up front to get more information.”

“They are that good?”

“They are the best we have, we offer a bespoke service”

Pembroke was intrigued. He used an untraceable prepaid debit card and transferred money across, then confirmed his email address, another fake email he had set up and would soon discard, and looked forward to looking at the details.

“If you use us regularly, we can give you even more information on whats out there…”

Pembroke guessed that if he became a repeat customer they would let him know if one of the girls was semi-famous.

Pembroke flipped through the photos he had downloaded from the escort agency’s website, growing more frustrated with each one. The agency promised a roster of exclusive women, but so far, all he saw were blurry images and vague descriptions. None of the faces looked familiar, and the ones that weren’t blurred seemed like ordinary people—certainly no one with any claim to fame or past pop stardom.

“What a scam,” he muttered, thinking about the money he’d paid to access this supposed “elite” catalog. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but this wasn’t it. Then he remembered the photographs he’d found of Teresa Yildiz on social media—mostly beach shots and photos in bikinis from a few years back.

Maybe it was worth a shot. Pembroke opened the folder containing Teresa’s photos and began to compare them with the agency’s images. He checked their body shapes, hair color, and even the general style of their clothing. The process was tedious, and he began to doubt whether this would yield any results.

However, after sifting through a dozen photos, he saw one that made him pause. The woman’s face was obscured, but the body shape and hair color looked similar to Teresa’s. The location in the background seemed like a generic hotel room, but the hint of a tattoo on the woman’s shoulder—a faint silhouette—looked eerily familiar.

Pembroke pulled up one of Teresa’s bikini photos for comparison. Sure enough, there was a tattoo on Teresa’s shoulder in almost the exact same spot and of a similar shape. Could it be a match? He knew one person who could tell him.

He made his way down to the basement, to see the sorry sight of Sophie, in flowery vest and knickers, lying on the bench, snoozing. “Get up Sophie!,”

He took her out of the cell, and had her stand beside him as he sat at the desk on his chair with his laptop open. Turning the laptop to airplane mode for safety, he asked her:

“Does your mummy have a tattoo?”

Sophie was thrown by this question. “Yes, yes she does, er a lizard here…” she pointed to a spot on the back of her shoulder. It matched what he could see on screen. “Come here baby.”

He sat her on his lap as he showed her the photos of the near naked woman on screen. “Tell me, does that look like your mummy?”

Sophie got a lump in her throat as she recognised her mother’s tattoo and soft welcoming body. She longed to be in her arms again. “Please … please daddy, don’t hurt my mum”

“Don’t worry darling, I won’t hurt her, I just want to play with her. It looked like mummy is a whore, did you know this?”

Sophie was dumbstruck. Looking at the site, it seemed like an escort website, trading sex for money. Her mum did sleep around it was true, but this?

“Do you know Gladys? Gladys Thompson, I think? She told me your mummy worked as a prostitute.”

Sophie smarted at this, she did know Gladys, an old black woman from a crime ridden family. How had Pembroke inserted himself into her family so much and why? What was the point of this?

“Daddy, why are you following my mum?”

Pembroke kissed her neck, and ran his hand over her stomach, then down between her legs. “Because I enjoy owning you and exploring your life, and your mummy is part of that. Now … hop off, I am going to play a video on screen of exercises and I want you to follow it. Let me put the collar on you … there … that’s it, so I don’t have to get up to discipline you. Daddy has some work to do, while you work your body!”

Sophie watched the screen and did the exercises, which were straightforward and she was actually glad of the movement. Spending hours and hours a day in solitary confinement in the cell was driving her mad.

Pembroke kept the corner of his eye on her as he went back to his laptop. He made some more online orders of special up-to-date electronic equipment, ensured it would arrive soon, then made another payment and arranged a date with Teresa. What a lot of money! His teacher’s salary would not cover this, he might have to do some extra curricular contract work to top up his income.

The best sex, of course, was free. He looked up at the lithe figure of Sophie, adopting a warrior pose in yoga. He gently buzzed her neck, causing her to fall to the floor, and turned off the video.

“That’s enough yoga for now Sophie, get on the bed, and take your knickers off. I’m hungry and I want to eat you.”

Sophie complied like the obedient girl she was coming to be, and relaxed as she felt his hungry mouth munch on her pussy. Introducing pineapple into her diet had really made a difference as he noticed its taste within her folds as his tongue explored her juices. He pushed her thighs back so her ankles were around her ears and licked her asshole aggressively, then back into her pussy before nibbling on her throbbing clit. It was not long before her pussy sprayed him with an orgasm. Whatever made her piss herself easily when scared, also made her squirt over him when licking her, and he loved it.

“All right, 69 now. I cannot stop eating you.”

Sophie hovered over him, sucking the hard rod of his cock and trying to concentrate despite the overwhelming feelings she got between her own legs from his mouth. She wished she could just relax and orgasm but knew that a lazy sucking could mean more marks across her hands later. She came again, and her eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings as she almost passed out between his thighs until a firm spank to her ass woke her up again, with a command to get back to sucking. This was hardest for her, dealing with fingers in her ass and pussy while maintain a steady rhythm but finally the hot salty cum squirted into the back of her throat and she squeezed every last drop out of him and into her tummy.

“I’ve turned you into a hot slut! I can’t wait to compare you to your mummy, maybe its in your blood!” He slapped her buttocks as the sign to get off him.

Sophie was unceremoniously returned to her cell. She even came minutes later on her own, a delayed reaction from the built up sexual energy released by his aggressive tongue. She was so embarrassed at how her body was betraying her! She feared for her mother. Would she be seeing her again, down here? Would they be sharing a cell? On one hand she wanted to see her mum again, but did not want her captured too! Not least because she had no illusions about the sick games this monster would make them play together.

Jenny was working the counter at her café in Central London. It was busy and she paid no heed to the lone middle aged man sitting by himself in the corner. Edward Pembroke was excited. He was finally in the presence of another Yildiz female! Jenny was pretty, she was the same height as Sophie albeit four years older, still beautiful and young at eighteen. She was much darker, he had no doubt they were half sisters, not full sisters, her nose was different as well. She seemed more confident and sure of herself in dealing with customers and the other staff, yet still seemed detached and far away. Perhaps thinking of her missing kid sister. Pembroke brought what seemed like a handkerchief from his pocket and sniffed it. It was a pair of Sophie’s panties, that she had worn for a day and changed out of hours earlier. He wondered if Sophie had the same scent. He wished there was a way to find out.

He had been in London primarily to pick up the last of the electronic equipment he needed. He had found out where Jenny worked and had gambled she might be working and was delighted to find she was there. It was a Saturday and the place was incredibly busy. He knew the place closed at 6pm and waited patiently. At kicking out time, he moved to another café across the street, and waited until she came out. It was not so hard to follow people in London, no one really checked on other people especially from behind.

He got on the same bus as her, then got off at the same stop and took the same train. She was as hopeless as Sophie, he smirked, girls were such easy creatures. When she got out in east London, a few miles from her mother’s flat, he had to be more careful in tailing her at a distance. Jenny suspected nothing as Pembroke watched her disappear into a two story ex council flat near Stratford, with Pembroke guessing this was her home. “Interesting,” he thought, and made a note of the address. It was good to know where she lived. It was fun, tracking down girls a marvellous hobby he thought more men should adopt. You never know when you might get a golden opportunity to abduct someone.

He returned home late, eager to enjoy the fruits of his successful project, Sophie. She was on her period, which disgusted Pembroke, so she should be prepared herself for some hard anal sex right now. He hoped she had cleaned her self out and fingered herself to readiness as he had commanded. It had been quite a while since her last serious bout of torture, and he was eager to try the old techniques again. One should always flex ones muscles.

Teresa got another request for a ‘date’ this time in a day hotel near Liverpool Street Station. She choked up when she realised this was the station from which Sophie had mysteriously taken a train from, and vanished.

Her ass cheeks still bore the scars of her beating from Thomas Peck though at least she could sit down. She had to humiliatingly explain to her last two clients that she did this as an ‘extra’ and had enjoyed it. Of course they had both enquired about doing it themselves after checking out the marks on her buttocks, which disgusted her. Why were men such horrible pigs? Hopefully this one would be better. All she knew was he was a Canadian banker, married, called Geoff, who was flying out soon.

‘Geoff’ had spent most of that Saturday in the pre booked room, rigging up hidden cameras in the hotel room. He had practised with these around his house and in the basement. He had made the carrot and stick approach with Sophie, promising her she would get a spanking unless she could find the cameras around the room, and despite looking and looking she could not see them all, and so a sound spanking was hers.

“I cannot wait to fuck your mummy, Sophie. God I am going to savour every minute of it and we will watch the footage together afterwards.”

“Are you going to do to her, what you did to me, what you did to those other girls?” Sophie was scared, because she felt she had to do something to stop him, but what could she do? If she failed to stop him, she was effectively an accomplice, a useless daughter.

“Yes, yes I think so, why ever not? It will be great fun don’t you think? You mummy, crusader for lost children and against revenge porn, outed as a hooker with her sex video online? Haha she would be a huge hit on the forums. And you must admit Sophie, it is a little unfair I cannot put your stuff online, you would be a dark web star if I did but alas…” he shrugged sadly “One must keep up the pretence for now, that you are dead.”

He regained his cheer and nudge Sophie as if to console her.”So if your mummy gets shamed online, think of it as just the universe balancing itself out!”

Pembroke had arranged to meet Teresa first of all in a small restaurant nearby. He had called a few days before and told them his daughter’s phone had been stolen there six weeks earlier, and might they have CCTV footage? After a minute, she was informed that they got rid of their CCTV footage ever 31 days. “Oh how unfortunate” he said, smiling to himself.

Teresa arrived in a chic outfit that was perfect for the warm September weather. It was flirty and a bit daring, showing off her buxom figure. At forty-two, she still had a great body and knew how to flaunt it. She greeted Pembroke with a bright smile, the kind that could light up a room. Her shoulder-length hair was strawberry blonde, and her blue eyes sparkled—just like her daughter’s.

She had the classic “hooker with a heart of gold” vibe, and her friendly demeanor quickly put the shy Pembroke at ease. They sat down at a table in the restaurant’s bar area and ordered drinks. Teresa seemed kind, almost too kind, and Pembroke found himself relaxing in her presence.

Pembroke wore glass with a small spy camera between the lenses which would capture everything for the next few hours. The clunky glasses together with

When Teresa saw Pembroke, he wasn’t quite what she had expected a middle aged Canadian investment banker would look like. He was a big man, towering over six feet with a broad build and large hands. He carried a bit of extra weight, with a double chin and a portly belly that stretched his shirt. His face, though rugged, was not the kind that would turn heads—ugly, some might say, with a receding hairline and streaks of grey in what little hair he had left.

But Teresa had a way of seeing beyond appearances after a lifetime of dealing with men and good looking narcissists. She noticed how he carried himself, a bit awkwardly, as if he wasn’t used to being in this kind of setting. His eyes, although hard to find behind clunky black glasses, had a sort of nervous kindness. Teresa could tell he was trying to make a good impression, even though it didn’t come naturally to him.

She flashed him a warm smile as they sat down, her way of letting him know he was in safe hands, sensing that he might just need a little extra kindness to feel comfortable. She wanted to make sure Tommy and the agency knew she was a guaranteed high earner.

Pembroke’s clunky black glasses contained a small spy camera between the lenses which would capture everything for the next few hours. Unlike Sophie, her mother was an adult with whom he could actually imagine having an interaction with in real life.

She probably thought he was at least twenty years older than her. There’d be no way she’d give him a second glance on the street, on a dating app, or anywhere. Pembroke’s broad, portly frame and scruffy appearance didn’t exactly scream “eligible bachelor.”

He grimaced at the money he was paying for this, though had done so regularly in the past when he worked full time in the tech sector and earned multiples of his teachers salary. Bored, young and lifeless Russian models were what he bought then.

“Are you some kind of minor celebrity?” he asked with a hint of curiosity. “The agency was hinting at it, and I thought you looked familiar.”

“Oh, no, not really,” she replied, keeping her voice light. “I’m just good at what I do!”

Really? Because you look like someone I might have seen on TV or something,” he said, trying to gauge her reaction.

Teresa’s eyes narrowed. She knew Tommy and those sleazy bastards had used her missing daughter as a hook to get clients to pay for her. That was how some of her clients had known who she was before even meeting her, while others had recognised her from the TV appeals about her daughter. She cringed as she remembered one man almost bursting out with laughter as he recognised her as she was riding him, cowgirl style.

This guy was Canadian though and only temporarily in town, maybe he didn’t watch the news…

“Oh, I doubt it,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively. “Maybe I just have one of those faces, you know? A lot of people say that.”

“I just thought that I seen you before that’s all from TV, that’s all” Pembroke smiled, pretending to be puzzled. Teresa really did not feel like talking about her daughter right now, not in this situation!

“Now, are you finished? Why do you show me our room and we can have some fun, darling…”

As they relaxed in the room, Teresa tried to set him at ease. Pembroke wanted confirmation she was a hooker though, and introduced some awkwardness.

“Can you strip down to your bra and knickers please? I would like to look at you first.”

Teresa had done this so many times. She stripped to an expensive looking blue lacy bra and knickers. “May I ask how long you have been in that underwear?”

Weirdo alert, she thought. “Only about an hour darling, since I left, I want my pussy nice and fresh for you.”

“Oh” replied Pembroke, seeming like a child with the wrong Christmas toy. “I wanted to pay you for them, you see I’d like to keep them, with your scent, as a memento, and if you’ve only been wearing them an hour…”

Teresa knew they had several hours booked. “Don’t worry darling we have hours and my pussy is gonna be soaking soon. I’ll keep these on for a while and soon they are gonna be wet. Why don’t you watch me baby…”

Teresa found she could relax in front of this polite, odd man who probably had no wife, despite what he said. All he wanted was some fantasy. She almost laughed at the little boy look he gave her about her knickers. Of course he could have them!

Poor guy, she thought, weird but not a predator. Not like some … no … don’t think about her, not now, remember, this is all about getting the money to help the search…

Pembroke lay on the bed, rock hard as he watched the stunning lady in front of him, in her lingerie, play with her pussy with her fingers while she stared at him, licking her lips like a practised sex worker.

“Wow … you are … so sexy and beautiful, do you do this for a lot of men? God, the agency were right you are worth every penny I paid for you”

“Haha, I like to make my men happy darling, look I’m wet already, fuck my panties are gonna smell of me for you after this. I don’t mind going home with no knickers, makes me horny knowing you gonna be playing with them mmm…”

Pembroke stroked his cock through his trousers. Poor Teresa was like her daughter in her observation skills. She had no inkling she was being recorded from his glasses and four other hidden cameras in the room. The knowledge of how utterly humiliating this was going to be for her turned Pembroke on almost as much as her beautiful body.

She moved forward and undressed him, and sucked on his cock, staring at his face, distorted into a double chin as he faced down at her through his large glasses. “Why don’t you take off those glasses baby?” “No thanks, sorry, I can’t see very well, I want to see all of you…”

Teresa loved the compliment. “Very well then, let me show you more of me”

She bent over him in a 69 position and continued to suck him while still in her knickers. He cautiously ran his hands over her body, and his fingers within her gusset and stroked and poked her shaven pussy lips. She gyrated her ass in response.

She took off all her clothes and he drank in the sight, her body was more tanned than Sophie’s curvier but she still had a flat stomach and large pert breasts. They had sex in several positions, and when they went to doggy style, he looked down and could feel the ridges of the cane marks left by Thomas Peck.

“Oh dear, what happened here?”

“Oh, some of my clients pay extra, to get this done, I like it sometimes, to get whipped” Teresa turned to face him with a mischievous smile. The feel of his cock in her pussy and his spanking on her cheeks turned her on enough that she did not wince in humiliation at that harsh punishment. She was grateful he did not suggest any such activity.

Pembroke smiled and stared at her ass. He almost limited himself as he was constantly thinking of how he wanted her displayed on cameras and wanted her to admit as many humiliating things on camera as possible.

She tasted a little like Sophie, the hint of metal and strawberries rising from her folds as he lapped at her, though he could now notice the difference the pineapple diet had made!

“Can you squirt” he asked hopefully.

“Yes baby, you want me to?” She lay back as he watched, paying with her tits and pussy until a huge stream gushed out and nearly went all over his glasses several feet away!

“Amazing, I guess you are well suited to your job, I mean having sex for money?”

Teresa laughed at how often he was bringing up that she was, in fact, an escort. As if he needed confirmation! Poor soul, maybe this was the highlight of his life and he couldn’t believe she would do this for him.

“I always loved sex, and thought I might as well get paid for it! I’ve met some interesting people, lets just say, but you seem nice, darling. Now, why don’t we try anal, I’m sure you want to put that big cock up my ass, look at it baby mmmm”

Pembroke happily took in the sight of her glorious meaty cane scarred ass, and lubed his condom clad cock again. He kept his vision down facing her asshole as he pushed his cock in, then looked up to see her moaning, and back down again to see her fingers playing with her pussy as her anus distended with each motion of his cock in and out of her.

When they finally finished, Pembroke felt sad. He wanted to tell her it was the best sex he had from anyone, apart from of course her daughter. She had been so nice and energetic, he could see why she would be a VIP hooker. He almost felt sorry for her, that she was going to be so exposed because of how open and friendly she had been, a punishment for embracing him as a human being and not an obvious pervert and degenerate.

She left without her knickers, kissed him on the lips and smiled at him. She would not mind seeing him again if he paid. She then walked out into the late evening warmth, her bare pussy still twitching under her dress, as she thought of whether to go home, or maybe see if she could have some fun around here. There were plenty of tall handsome men around, maybe something to cleanse her pallet after the ugly old man, she laughed to herself.

Pembroke took down all the cameras and got ready to leave. He turned his glasses camera off, and sniffed the wet knickers on the floor. This had been amazing, but expensive! Unfortunately for Teresa, he smiled, it would cost her even more but it might take a while for the bill to arrive…

The first thing Pembroke had done when he got home, was run to the basement, take Sophie out, and hold her mother’s used knickers to her face like chloroform. “Hmmm smell your mummy’s cunt, Sophie, fuck she tasted so good, she tasted like you! Your pussies smell and taste alike, how funny is that!” He then ordered Sophie to remove her panties and smelled them, then bent down to lick between her legs to compare the tastes. He was like a perverted sommelier. “Please, did you hurt my mum, what did you do with her?”

“Nothing serious … just some fun, don’t worry. I’ll—mmm—I’ll tell you all about it later,” he said, words muffled by her pussy in his mouth. “For now, just let me eat … mmm … need to compare the taste … while it’s still—mmm—fresh in my mouth. Nom nom nom…” He took a mouthful of her pussy, practically inhaling her lips, smacking his lips as he chewed them. “Mmm … so good…”

Sophie gasped as the sensation rocked through her body, and tried to think of her mother. Please, she hoped, let mum have got some clue from him, something, and please let her be all right after this.

“Sophie, smell your panties and your mum’s, taste them! Smell how similar they are…”

Sophie had no choice but to sniff her own knickers, and those of her mother. Both tasted of stale vaginal juice to her. Unsurprisingly, she was not minded to turn into a rabid dog at the scent of used knickers unlike her demented captor, not least when one of them belonged to her own mother.

She could not help but cum from Pembroke’s frenzied licking. He put away her mother’s underwear, no doubt with the rest of his trophies, then dragged Sophie onto the bed for hours of hard fucking. Sophie caught the scent of her mother’s familiar perfume on him as she fucked her missionary style, and the sudden sensation of it coming back into her memory brought her to tears.

Days later, Pembroke was relaxing in the basement on the bed holding the naked Sophie next to him, after a long fucking session. They were watching the screen. For hours on repeat he had forced her to watch the sex video with her mother. He had fucked her doggy style, pulled her hair back and her face up so she had to look at her mother sucking on her tormentor’s cock, confess to being a sex mad whore, taking it up the ass enthusiastically and talk about being caned for money, and showing off her scars on her backside.

She had prayed that Pembroke would get caught when trying to visit her mother. Perhaps her mother’s sixth sense had or would awaken and she would track him down from there? Maybe this ogre had given himself away?

But her mother did not seem to be aware of having a missing daughter at all. She acted just like the filthiest porn stars. She could never have imagined this side of her mum. And with Pembroke! Her fucking kidnapper!

Pembroke froze the screen on a close up of her mother’s genitals as she almost sat on Pembroke’s face during a 69. “You see Sophie? Let’s compare shall we!”

Pembroke brought a mirror and unceremoniously pulled Sophie’s legs up in front of her and spread them so they could both see, in the mirror, her pussy and asshole. “See your mummy’s meaty lips? That’s where you came out of, fourteen years ago! Haha, I bet you haven’t seen them since! See how thick her lips are, they were nice to suck on, like slices of liver around my mouth. Your pussy lips are thin and delicate but don’t worry, they will grow and if you ever have a baby that will push them out! Oh and check out mummy’s hole! Its darker than yours, she’s been using her ass a lot longer than you, happens to us all, that dark shadow. Yours is cute and pink.” He nudged her anus like a fascinated little boy. Sophie felt sick looking at her mother’s private parts and the disgusting comparisons Pembroke was making.

“And as for these melons, well you have a way to go, but don’t worry, I like watching things grow.” He sucked on her nipples in appreciation. “Your mummy’s tits, god you haven’t seen them in years either I bet! Not since you were sucking your food out of them, well I was sucking on them last night, no milk in them of course. Really firm but swung around … god she had such a great body you should feel proud of her!”

She thought he was joking, taunting her, but she thought maybe this was really him, he was an absolute lunatic who was his real self with her. These were his actual unfiltered thought processes!

“Are you going to do to my mum what you did to me and those other girls? Put this online? People will recognise you.”

Pembroke paused as if to think. “Yes, oh yes definitely I will. I will have to obscure myself, that will take time. God, can you imagine! Me, a teacher, being exposed like that! Ha, no, no way, I will make sure I am edited out somehow. But your mummy, yes, I’m sorry, she will go online.” He touched Sophie’s cheek as if this was out of his hands, and not his own perverted decision.

“Not for a while, need to cover my tracks, a few months go past, she will forget me a little, no witnesses will remember me, CCTV footage gets overwritten, paper trails go cold. Then BANG! Your mummy is sitting watching TV and then gets all these messages about how she is a whore, and exposed online for the rest of her life. God, it makes me horny to think of how utterly fucked she will feel then, can you imagine Sophie?”

“Yes, you did it to me.”

“Haha of course, yes, how could I forget, though you weren’t fully exposed until you disappeared from normal life, you never had to face your friends and family. And your mum, working as an actual prostitute! Wow, though I think a lot of people suspect that anyway. It will go to all your friends, I will make sure of that. What do you think Emma will say? She would probably make you want to kill yourself if you were still out there, so maybe it’s better you are down here. Anyway, let your mummy relax for a month or two. I always enjoy it, the period before the axe falls, makes me so fucking horny.”

She thought Pembroke would want to fuck her again. Instead, he wanted to see the start of the movie again. “I want to see our date at the restaurant. She really was so nice to me, so professional and charming. Do you want to watch this again?”

Sophie thought of how horrible it felt watching her dear mother, smiling into the camera over a table in a pleasant restaurant, talking with this horrible monster. With no clue as to what he was doing. How her mother smiled at Pembroke, like she smiled at her, oh how she missed her!

“OK then, I want you to lick my feet while I watch it, give them a good tongue bath, and remember to get between all my toes as well.”

Sophie’s stomach turned. “Daddy, can I have a drink first?”

“Why, is your tongue dry?” She nodded. He sighed, he could not be bothered to get up and did not want her to get up either. “OK, I’ve got something for you, open your mouth wide darling…”

Sophie obeyed, and he summoned all the saliva he could and spat it into her throat. “As she nearly choked in shock, he laughed “Ha, that’s all you need for my feet, go on get to it.”

As Sophie sucked, nibbled and licked at his large outsize hairy and sweaty feet, with her bum in the air facing Pembroke, his hands drumming gently on her buttocks, occasionally idly straying onto her pussy, she listened to the heartbreaking sounds of her mother conversing happily, to the background sounds of happy couples and visitors enjoying a pleasant meal. As her mother laughed gently, she stifled a cry, and stoically continued to roam her mouth all around the feet in front her. She loved her mother, but she had failed her.

Chapter 36
Teresa and Jenny sat together, holding hands, as they listened to their therapist’s advice, how to take each day as it comes, and how to deal with their daughter’s memory. It had helped them both, but it still gnawed away at them that they had no body to bury.

“It’s just horrible knowing that there is a chance she is alive, and being abused somewhere, lonely and hoping that we can rescue her. It’s the hope that kills you” said Teresa sadly. “Sometimes at night I have nightmares that she is some brothel in some awful god forsaken country being raped by dozens of men.”

“Now, now” said the therapist, a prim young woman with degrees from every top university in the country. “You should only focus on what you can do, what you are in control of.” Inwardly she felt terrible for the two women, she could only imagine what it must feel like to now know what is happening to the pretty, young and missing daughter.

“I believe Sophie is dead” said Jenny, “I would rather have that in my head than thinking of the other possibilities and it’s the most likely one now. Life is for the living so we just need to carry on.”

Teresa sniffed and dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. “Maybe she is in a better place, that’s right. I only hope she has peace, because I will never get it now.”

A the same time as this therapy session was unfolding, Pembroke was feeling a profound sense of peace like never before. Throughout his life, he’d struggled with body image, subjected to cruel teasing at school and insults from strangers on the street. But now, in the company of Sophie—the type of girl he’d once only fantasized about speaking to—he found himself in a position that would have previously filled him with shame even if all by himself, yet he felt remarkably at ease.

As he lay in a ‘child’s pose’ yoga position —knees on the floor, his torso resting between his thighs, his arms reaching out in front of him, and his bare ass in the air —he experienced complete relaxation, without a hint of self-consciousness. For the first time, he embraced his vulnerability without guilt or shame.

Sophie, kneeling behind him, felt no such peace. This was meant as a winding down from a particularly energetic sex session. The sight of his asshole, his large balls and cock hanging beneath it, and the stubble surrounding the area from the last time she had been forced to shave him, disgusted her. But she was well used to it by now, and slowly moved her face closer to his crack, tentatively sticking her tongue out as she felt the hills of his sweaty buttocks brush against the cheeks of her face as she pressed closer, the aroma of sweat and possibly something else she dared not think about filling her nostrils.

“Oh yes, this feels good. Get that tongue moving, loosen up my asshole. I reckon with about fifteen minutes of licking, you should be able to slide it right inside me, so no slacking!”

Sophie brought her hands against his ass cheeks for support and pressed her lips around his anus working her tongue in a circular motion, feeling the sphincter contract and expand to match the hot flickering action of her tongue her saliva as it dripped inside him.

“Use one hand to play with yourself, Sophie, go on, I want you to enjoy this!”

Sophie would have preferred to keep her balance with both hands but was grateful for the chance to masturbate to help take her mind off the task in hand. Taste and smell were two senses that Pembroke had basically taken control of but at least with her clitoris, she could imagine something else, especially when she was by herself.

But now, it was hard to avoid the reality that she was licking the sweaty bumhole of an obese fifty five year old man!

“Play with my balls as well! That’s it…” Pembroke was enjoying himself immensely, and he pulled across his laptop towards him and got some images up on the large screen in front of both of them.

Sophie was now supporting her bodyweight leaning forward by resting her face on his ass crack, both her hands now occupied, by his balls and her own pussy. Her eyes barely reached over the ridge of his tailbone as she watched the flickering screen.

“Look Sophie, I was checking out your friend Emma on Facebook, and see what I found, she has really lost weight over the summer! Check out these beach photos.”

Sophie looked at the screen and was surprised to see her old enemy, Emma, on the beach in a bikini. He had lost a lot of weight, and now had a slim waist but her breasts were still quite large, making her look like a model in her skimpy red outfit. More photos followed, the tone of her buttocks showcasing the results of her squats and running.

Emma had spent a lot of time over summer running and weightlifting to lose weight. Now, she was reaping the rewards, some teachers barely recognised her, she now turned the heads of all the boys who passed her, and knew it. She sometimes thought of Sophie and often wished that skinny bitch was still around so she could see that she was now hotter than she was.

For Sophie, it was just another stab to her soul. Had it really been three months? And life had been going on for everyone outside, her mother whoring herself out, partying, and her bully losing weight and now living her best life. And she was here … She looked downward at the distended open hole, loosened by her tongue, and the comparison of her life with that of Emma’s made her want to scream in anger.

“I did not tell you to stop licking! You can look with your eyes, not with your mouth! Get that tongue back in my asshole and keep it there! Or I will give you a good hiding, maybe our friend Ronald might come out to play as well! I won’t tolerate any daydreaming from you, girl!”

Sophie quickly returned to her task. Her tongue was tired and sore, it had gotten a long workout today, with hours of giving him a tongue bath, French kissing and sucking on his cock, and now this.

Pembroke luxuriated in the relaxing position and the wonderful sensation of a warm, hard young tongue pressing against his hole. The humiliation was the icing on the cake.

“Hmmm, your mummy was wonderful in bed, but there is no fucking way she or any woman would do this to me. She would have ran out of that hotel in horror haha no matter how much money I offered her. And you! I can’t stop thinking about that disgusted look on your face when you talked about me, when you saw me on the bus. Here, let me find it…”

Sophie dreaded this, he had shown her it many times with glee. In some ways she was happy she had overcome some of that feeling, now that she had been confronted with his body every day for months. It depressed her though, that she was getting used to it. She saw her old self on the screen, in her bedroom. She had not known she was being recorded at the time. There she was, laughing without a care in the world, her eyes lighting up and crinkling at the corners, at the ridiculousness of the mere idea of being with that fat old man on the bus. The irony crushed her now, knowing what her life had become. That easy smile, those carefree days—they felt like they were gone forever, and might as well have never happened, they belonged to a different world.

“Its incredible really. Emma’s life has turned around. My life has gotten to be amazing. But you, you’ve gone from being a quiet pretty schoolgirl, about to live her best life, to being my sex slave and licking the bumhole of some old creep. Listen, you said that you would rather kill yourself than be with me, and here you are! Sorry Sophie I don’t mean to gloat, it’s just … well it’s just incredible how it’s turned out so badly for you, but so fucking well for me. Sorry, blame the universe, maybe something nice will happen to your mum or something. Or you could have died in a car crash or something, I don’t know I guess you have to think of something worse to happen to you, to get through this, I can’t really help though sorry.”

He chuckled as he spoke, like a sociopath. She hated his reminders, she just promised herself she would use these to motivate herself, she would keep hoping, she would get out of here, even if it took years.

“You are slacking Sophie … Get that tongue inside me NOW! Come on…”

“Sorry, daddy, my tongue is tired and sore, it has done a lot for you today…”

“Just a bit more come on, I want to feel it inside and wriggling around … come on”

Sophie pushed herself, just five more minutes, she promised herself, beyond that she did not know how much longer she could last. She felt like her tongue would dislocate itself from her jaw.

“Get. That. Tongue. Inside … NOW!” Pembroke was getting angry, he was enjoying it so much and did want it to stop.

Sophie thought of the punishments she might endure and pushed on. She cried with the stress, and as the tears trickled down her face into his asshole she could taste them as she pushed the salty fluid inside him with her struggling tongue. “Please, let this nightmare end, if not today, then someday, soon” she prayed.

Jenny Yildiz was scrubbing the tables away from her café job. She was working and saving to go back out to Australia again. She had no interest in the countless men who propositioned her, or dating apps. Nor the offers for paid modelling work, which had frustrated one Dale Forsyth (Edward Pembroke) who had been looking forward to some alone time with her in her lingerie.

‘Did she ever go out?’ thought the observant drinker in the pub across the road. Pembroke disapproved of her conservative black trousers and shirt, a contrast to the wayward teenager that Sophie had said she was. Perhaps having a younger sister potentially murdered and raped had changed her morals, he thought, pleased that his behaviour had some corrective benefits for girls. However, he was annoyed that this meant there was less opportunity for him to do anything to her.

The mark of a successful kidnapper, he told himself, was to know when to give up on unsuccessful ventures. With Sophie he had been prepared to give up 99% of the way to the end if there was too much risk. In any case, kidnap was not his main priority. He would be happy with some naked photos, but this seemed a far away possibility with this sensible, streetwise girl.

Pembroke had spent a lot of time and money to get Sophie but now he had her, there was little in the way of running costs. His mother meant he could never take off for Thailand in the summer anyway, and all Sophie needed was some food and some cheap clothes from online retailers. He had spent more drinking in the pub on this Saturday evening than he had spent on her all week!

So why, then, should he not make an addition to his collection if the ongoing costs would be so low? His two reservations were the time, cost and danger of another acquisition, and how two girls instead of one would behave in the basement. Would they team up against him? Dealing with Sophie was like dealing with a pet hamster but two of them might be another story, especially if the new girl had more spunk.

Then again … he glanced around the pub and his eyes settled on the beautiful young Polish girl behind the bar who had served him. She had black hair, blue eyes, a nose stud, and wore a short, revealing skirt, likely to attract customers and tips. He noticed how she gave him a shy smile while he watched her pull a pint. Another girl was in a flowery dress with her boyfriend, giggling at his jokes and playing with the long strands of her blonde hair. He was like a kid in a sweet shop, but the sweets were very expensive and very dangerous.

As he looked back, the barmaid caught his eye, blushed and looked down. He smiled again, he loved it when girls got nervous, he felt more comfortable and powerful. He immediately noted her down as a candidate. She probably doesn’t have family here, maybe an odd schedule, and would not be noticed if she went missing for a few days.

She went around the bar collecting empty glasses, showcasing her beautiful legs and athletic figure. Perhaps she did sports? He wondered if he could overpower her easily, if they were both in the basement together, and she refused some disgusting order, could he physically subdue her as easily as he did with Sophie? And how could he transport her? Sophie had been ever so obliging in doing most of her own transport without telling anyone. He doubted that he could get this girl out of London without being seen.

“Excuse me, are you finished?” she asked in a thick Polish accent, and as she bent over her breasts spilled forwards. “Yes, you can take these” Pembroke smiled back at her, “where are you from? Your accent is beautiful…”

“I am from Czechia” she responded coldly. She knew a creep when she was one. “Ah, wrong guess haha” Pembroke laughed but she ignored him and moved on. If she could have guessed that he was whimsically planning her rape and kidnapping she would have thrust the glass in his face. Hmm, that was the kind of infraction which, if she ever did end up in his basement, he would make her remember. But he could have some fun with those breasts! He could not wait for Sophie’s to develop like her mothers.

He was getting drunk, he thought. Dangerous. He should head back home and get the train out of London, if he tried something foolish like stalk one of these girls to their houses there was a good chance he would get caught. He walked out, and looked into Jenny’s café, she was taking an order. Well, maybe one Yildiz girl is enough, at least for now.

That evening he brought Sophie some dinner. “Evening my baby, how is Alice in Wonderland?

“It is interesting, daddy thank you.”

“Oh it’s a pleasure, I would much rather young ladies read such nice books rather than the trash they read, teen mags and that. No, you won’t get that in here. You will have a nice clean mind after reading the books I give you … I suppose … well we do plenty of naughty things to make up for it don’t we!” He giggled, and turned on a video on the screen.

“I didn’t tell you this, but its my birthday tomorrow! I turn fifty six, yes don’t say it, I look forty haha!” It was like she was some imaginary friend he could joke with. “Now, I have my birthday party all planned and it is going to be FUN!”

Sophie’s heart sank. There was zero chance this man had any friends. A party could therefore mean only one thing.

“You are going to put on a show for me! I bought myself this…” he produced a colourful costume bought online, designed for 12 year old Korean girls, so specially geared towards looking tight on Sophie, “and you are going to wear it for me. Not only are you going to wear it, you are going to dance for me!” He played some videos of Kpop girls dancing – “I am going to play these videos constantly now all night for you to watch and practice in your cell. There is not just this innocent dancing but this – “ He skipped to another video of a woman in nothing but a thong giving another woman a lap dance. “You will give me a lap dance as well, and you will give me fantastic sex tomorrow for my birthday. The best yet.”

Suddenly his smile disappeared to be replaced by a wild stare at her. “I want my birthday to be special Sophie. When I was your age I got a bike and ever since no one ever celebrated it for me. This is going to be different. If you don’t dance properly, if you don’t act sexy enough, like you want me…”

He disappeared and she became frightened. What the hell was he on about? He reappeared with a bucket, a towel and a cage covered in a black cloth. She screamed, she knew what was under the cloth, it was the rat!

“Please, please I will do it, I will memorise the dancing, anything you want…”

“Yes, yes, well you have failed me before, Sophie so this is a motivation. I am going to leave Ronald down here all night, don’t panic he will be in his cage! Just saves me bringing him down again tomorrow if I need to … you know … correct you.”

“Please, … please … we can do things now and also tomorrow, what about it…”?

“It’s OK Sophie I can see you are panicking, please don’t panic! You have plenty of time. Now, you just have to keep watching the videos, learn the moves, oh and shave, any hairs on your pussy and that towel will be on your face as quick as you can scream! This is my birthday, so don’t ruin it!”

Sophie tried to calm herself, and nodded.

“Good. I am going to have a fantastic birthday anyway. A gorgeous young girl is going to dance for me give me a lap dance and give me the most mind blowing sex ever! And if it’s not up to scratch, I get to torture a beautiful young girl! Haha it’s win win for me either way, so it’s up to you, what you want. I suggest you start learning now!”

Sophie looked at the tiny costume in front of her, Oh well, it was his birthday, she could do this, she just did not want that … torture … to happen.

“Oh one last thing Sophie, I didn’t even mention this but I was in London today and I saw your sister!”

Sophie’s ears pricked up, he had often bragged about knowing where Jenny lived. She hoped nothing had happened to her.

“I think she might be safe, you know. Boring girl, just works, no hobbies, no boyfriends. I think your disappearance really affected her. I don’t think its safe to do anything to her, but I really wanted to taste her pussy as well to compare it with yours and your mummy’s.”

Sophie just started at the costume, waiting for whatever sick punch line was next.

“I have thought about getting another girl in here, would be nice having your sister in with you to keep you company, black hair and red hair would look great in a 69 wouldn’t it?”

Sophie was quiet, then realised she was being asked for a response.

“Err … whatever you want daddy.”

“Haha yes exactly, another time perhaps. In the meantime, let me take you out of the cell, come on…”

Sophie had thought he was going to leave her alone.

“I am having an early night tonight, too much booze you see. But I am dying for a piss, so take off those clothes, and assume the naru position under the shower here … come on…”

Sophie cringed, so she would be spending the next few hours practising nervously with the smell of piss in her mouth. She adopted the position and tipped her head back and opened her mouth to receive the firm jet of urine that went to the back of her throat. Obediently, she swallowed as much as she could.

“Oh yes … now suck me off, come on, then I will let you get showered and strapped in for a night of dance studies.”

Sophie sucked on his cock, this instrument of her pain, the foundation of all his desires for her. As she made him cum, she knew she had won her freedom from him for the night, as well as not getting struck on the hand again, and the taste of the cum represented one small victory.

“Good girl, Sophie, good night, and good night Ronald! Haha!”

He left the lights dimmed, with the video still on in repeat showing the innocent Kpop dances and the raunchy lap dances. With no idea of time, Sophie did not want to sleep until she memorised them. As she danced and tried to copy each move, she could not help but catch sight of the cage on the table on the other end of the basement, the sound of scurrying and occasionally bumps in the cloth as the rat tried to escape. She really, really needed to pass this test tomorrow, she prayed.

Never again, honestly, this is so demeaning, thought Teresa. She looked at herself in the mirror. Tommy’s agency had been in touch, another high paying client wanted her. She was dressed to his requirements, in a ludicrously short black dress, with stockings and suspenders and her cleavage was on show. The autumn cold was starting to bite, and her clothes so revealing, that she decided she needed a bit more coverage so on her way out she grabbed her winter coat for the first time in months and got on the train to her hotel room.

Sophie met her client, an impeccably groomed academic with silver hair and stylish glasses. He exuded an air of intelligence, his well-fitted suit enhancing his dignified presence. His hands were long and tapered, the kind that suggested a life devoted to deep thought, and his voice carried the refined intonation of someone with a privileged background.

Sophie felt a bit out of place beside this older man. Her outfit, the tight black dress that revealed ample cleavage, seemed ill-suited for the setting. The hemline rode up, exposing the tops of her stockings, and she had to keep tugging it down. Her makeup was bold, and her red hair was styled in carefully arranged curls.

“Hello, my dear,” he greeted her with a warm smile. “You look fabulous. I thought we might have some drinks and a few light snacks here before we get down to business.”

“Oh, er … yes,” she replied, a bit uncertain.

Despite the age difference—he was easily twenty years older than she was—Sophie felt a mix of fascination and nervousness. This man seemed so cultured, so unlike her previous client, that awkward untidy looking Canadian banker. She wondered if he might be famous. She would need to play it cool and pretend to be just as sophisticated to match his demeanour.

Her client was a Conservative MP and Oxford scholar, Sir Stanley Bridgerton, who enjoyed some of life’s stranger pleasures. When he had queried why this older housewife cost so much, the agency had told him who she was, and upon googling her daughter, he quickly agreed to pay for her.

He played around with her, pretending not to know who she was. He was quick to classify her as a working-class woman, someone far beneath his own elevated social status. His eyes, hidden carried a glint of disdain as he examined her from head to toe, lingering just a bit longer than necessary on her revealing dress.

“Now my dear, I think we should go to our room, where I wish to know you in more carnal detail.” He winked at her, and she giggled, knowing vaguely what he meant.

The sex was perfunctory, she was grateful that he was not a complete weirdo. In her experience the more dignified they seemed, the more they wanted Teresa to shit on them or something later on.

The man took his time eating her pussy, fondling her hips and buttocks as his tongue worked its way inside her as she writhed around. Thinking of this and the money reminded Teresa why she was here and not working in a care home cleaning or taking the elderly to the toilet for a fraction of the money she was getting for this.

When she came, she lay back, eyes closed, smiling, as the man leaned back, his lips glistening with her juices.

“That was amazing, baby” she grinned at him, through a happy haze.

The man looked at her open vagina, leaking fluid and idly speculated. “I wonder, if you can still feel your daughter coming out of there.”

“What? What the fuck?” Teresa sat up, what the fuck was he on about?

“Your vagina, where your daughter came out of, I’m just looking at it now, and my goodness it tasted wonderful, I’m just wondering about the concept of phantom limbs, your daughter is missing, just as an amputee misses his arm and feels its presence sometimes, perhaps you feel your daughter’s absence when you cum?”

“My daughter? What the absolute FUCK are you on about? You fucking weird bastard, get away from me!”

Teresa wanted to throw up and stab the man at the same time. She threw her clothes on and then spat at him as she gathered her things. “Fuck you, fuck all you disgusting creatures, who the fuck are you anyway?”

The man had been composed but was now worried she would cause him trouble. It was his own fault, he supposed, he had been a little crass.

“Are you the one who has taken my daughter? Who are you? I am going to find out about you, now just clear off and leave me alone, you animal!”

Teresa took off down the street, in a flood of tears. How could she be sleeping with these horrible men, when someone just like them had taken her daughter? As she sat on a bench, she sobbed and tried to keep it together. She looked in her pocket for a tissue, and instead found a paper note.

‘Mum, I love you. If you read this, then you know that some thing has happened to me. I was forced to meet a man, called Stanley, at Liverpool Street Station at 930am 20th of June 2013. His number is (XXX) he has been using. I don’t know how to get out of this hell I am, if you read this, just know I counted on this helping me. Please don’t let this man get away with it.

Yours, forever, love Sophie’

Time stood still while she processed the note. She stopped crying, and re read the note, then held it to her chest. It looked liker her daughter’s writing, how had it got into her coat? Maybe she had picked it off the ground when she picking up her stuff, she had a couple of glasses of champagne, and been so angry when she grasping at her stuff … yes she must have picked it from among his things! Sophie must have placed it among his things hoping he might have left it there, the sick bastard had been taunting her, Sophie must be his prisoner knowing he was going to see her!

The man had not told her his name; she immediately texted Tommy, then called him. He said he had a duty of confidentiality. She cursed him, then ran back to the hotel, only to see he was long gone. She checked the room again, but found nothing more. She then went straight to the nearest police station.

The police detectives on duty had not been able to take their eyes off her cleavage as she babbled on about the note. Nevertheless, the following morning, in more staid attire, she was face to face with the lead detective on the case.

“So you see, Sophie must have written that and put it among his things, and he dropped it as he got changed, and I picked it up as I was in a muddle getting changed, after those horrible things he said about Sophie!”

The lead detective, Mr Masterson, looked interested. “We will compare the handwriting, and the phone number. Don’t worry about Tommy Petrakis, he will talk to me and we will find out how this man was, and we can check the CCTV. This might be useful.”

He turned to Teresa sympathetically. “How long have you been escorting?”

“Only since Sophie disappeared – I needed to pay the bills, I needed time and money to do things, and help with the search, I don’t care I would rather spend a few hours with some man than a week cleaning shit off the floor and not having time to look for Sophie.”

Masterson felt sorry for Teresa, she was obviously an emotional woman, and he hoped this clue might help them.

Meanwhile, Stanley Bridgerton was at home enjoying a piano recital from his granddaughter at their expansive home in Kent. He felt bad about what he had said to that woman yesterday, and was quite flustered and embarrassed at having to scuttle out of there, but what a thrill it had been! As he looked at his granddaughter, he thought he really must stop these shenanigans with prostitutes, as the damage to his and his family’s reputation was just not worth the fun anymore!

Meanwhile, Pembroke was having the happiest birthday of his life. Sophie had been dressed immaculately in a tiny white and black dress, which hugged her figure but only came up to her hips. A conservative pair of black panties was underneath which were much too small for her and ate into her waist and the insides of her thighs.

She wore a carefully rehearsed smile, which she wore when really, really did not want to get punished. Pembroke enjoyed her clumsy yet energetic dance movies. He had not actually bothered to memories the routine and could only guess it was correct, the important thing was that she had tried, and humiliated herself in doing so. Her smile stayed on her face throughout as she moved with her hands in the air, as if waving to crowds of adoring young fans, rather than the fat old man in dressing gown and thong sitting staring at her, in the artificially lit basement.

“Amazing and can I get a happy birthday song?”

“Happy birthday to you … happy birthday to you … happy birthday dear daddy … happy birthday to you…” she clapped her hands like a seal and he was amazed to see her smile. What an actress!”

“Amazing, this is the best birthday every! Now what about my lap dance?”

Sophie kept her face smiling, and only her eyes darkened somewhat as she settled herself for the next part. She stripped offer her costume, struggling to yank down her tiny tight panties, which left indents on her skin and thighs, and danced around the seated Pembroke, twerking in his face, holding her arms around him, gazing lovingly at him up close as she sat across his lap straddling him. As she licked his ear, she looked at the cage behind him, the menacing shadow of the rat visible under the cloth, as well as the bucket of water and towel, all ready and waiting for her.

As they locked eyes, a strange game began to play out between them. She forced a loving smile and gave him a warm, caring look. He returned her gaze, but his eyes held a mix of hunger and sleaze. They both knew that she was faking it, that she would rather be anywhere but here. Yet, they also knew that she had to play along, to make him believe that she wanted to be with him.

This silent understanding between them made their eye contact all the more intense. Each was aware of the other’s intentions, but they continued the charade. The silence made it all the more unbearable, and they leaned in for a passionate kiss, their lips meeting in a desperate attempt to release the growing tension. It was a kiss born not of love or affection, but of a need to release nervous energy.

Sophie thought of her mother in the video, and decided to embrace her role. There was no point getting tortured for being a dumb piece of meat. Pembroke was taken aback at the sex, as she pushed him into several positions, riding him cowgirl style while yelping in happiness as she orgasmed, showering him with her fluids.

“Please, daddy, fuck my ass”

“Please daddy, can I finger your ass while I suck you.”

“Oh daddy I love your cock, it fits perfectly.”

They finally slept together in a tangled mess of flesh and sweat and bodily fluids, exhausted. This was even better than her mother, she was still lying, but at least now she could act, and where the act led, maybe her soul would follow … eventually. They French kissed on the bed, as Pembroke fell asleep in her arms, and Sophie lay with him in his embrace, wondering what was becoming of her, as Ronald the rat continued to scratch and move within his cage in the gentle silence.

Detective Masterson’s job was easier than he thought. He looked at the CCTV for a minute before realising who Teresa’s date was. It was Sir Stanley Bridgerton! His name was Stanley, and he was the famous backbench MP! Teresa was not that good an actor, she genuinely did not seem to know who he was. The phone number on the note checked out with the calls on Sophie’s phone before her disappearance. Teresa had not known that either. And the handwriting matched that of Sophie.

The press had a field day with Sir Stanley’s arrest. He was loudly proclaimed a paedophile by all, and his political opponents, of whom there were many, dug up even more dirt. Tommy Petrakis was forced to turn over more details on him and his private life became the talk of the nation.

Teresa was triumphant. That disgusting creep had got his comeuppance even if innocent, but neither she nor the police realised that Sophie had just dropped it in there months ago, on her way out as she disappeared forever.

Pembroke was baffled at this new twist in the Sophie story as he followed the news. It was only when he remembered he had used the pseudonym “Stanley” that he made the connection, but even then could not fathom how this famous politician had got mixed up in this! He felt sorry for the man’s family as he watched his daughters and granddaughters be harassed by press and members of the public. Poor little Cynthia, he bemoaned as he watched the young cute blonde girl, his granddaughter, as she was shown on TV frightened by the cameras, before his mind took a darker desire towards the young girl.

He sipped his tea and smiled at his mother beside him. “This whole has turned out to be enormous fun!”