Sophie Yildiz is a lovely young schoolgirl, who falls victim to a disgusting pervert named Edward Pembroke
Chapter 37
“That fucking rich nonce, I hope he rots in hell.”
Jenny Yildiz listened to her mother, sitting beside her on the TV, as the news covered police digging up the grounds of Sr Stanley Bridgerton’s mansion searching for Sophie’s body.
The newspapers and media had been awash with the latest gossip about the missing girl case. Details had dripped out, but it turned out that the respected academic and politician had been ‘seeing’ Teresa Yildiz, the mother of Sophie. How or why was the cause of much speculation, but Jenny was not an idiot and soon saw through her mother’s vague protestations that she had met this famous man on the street.
“You work as a fucking prostitute, mum, everyone knows it. And the only evidence this man took Sophie is some note that fell out of his pocket when he went to fuck you?”
“He said horrible things about Sophie before that Jenny.”
“You sure you haven’t tried to frame him? Are you trying to make money out of this whole thing?”
“I am trying to find our Sophie!”
“By fucking old men for money?” Jenny was angry at the shame her mother was bringing on her. She was tired of being known as the sister of a missing girl, and now the daughter of a famous prostitute.
Unfortunately for Sir Stanley, he had no firm alibi for the day Sophie disappeared. And, his private life of sleeping with prostitutes and going to sex clubs at home and abroad was being dug up as thoroughly as the grounds of his mansion.
“It is ridiculous that this lady can just invent a written note, say it came from my pocket and just say I murdered her daughter, I mean what are the chances? I’ve never heard of such a ridiculous case, it’s my enemies that are behind this, I will sue the police for every penny they have.” Sir Stanley was also furious at the incompetence of his lawyers, though they reminded him that his frantic attempts to cover up his meeting with Teresa and lies to that effect had been used as justification for his arrest when they found he had been lying.
Edward Pembroke found the saga hilarious and was also grateful for the diversion onto an innocent party. He was lying in bed in the basement, fondling Sophie’s breasts as they both lay naked in the afterglow of some passionate sex, as he put on the video of Sir Stanley’s exposed past as a sex pest and degenerate.
“Filthy, horrible man, it is a good thing that your mother exposed him. We should not have such perverts in positions of power!” he said, as he kissed Sophie’s shoulder and absent-mindedly played with her hair.
Sophie watched like it was a dream, this outside world portrayed on the screen. Her note, which she remembered writing, had instead led the police on a wild goose chase, months later, to someone else.
“Perhaps, Sophie, Sir Stanley was such a pervert that your note did some good! So rather than help yourself, you may have helped some other poor girls from that awful man” he giggled, as she bit, then stuck his tongue into her ear. He pressed a button on the remote, and the screen changed back to lesbian porn. The footage of Sir Stanley and a male news presenter had been the only males Sophie had been allowed to glimpse for months since her capture. As she watched the sweaty feminine bodies grind against each other, she felt normality return. This was real life, sex, serving her captor, playing with her body and being used. It wasn’t this weird, colorful outside world she had just seen. Was she becoming institutionalized? Without thinking or waiting to be told, she moved upside down on the bed, and placed her mouth opposite Pembroke’s crotch, as he pulled her on top of him, and they began a 69 session, her mind eased by his tongue working on her as she sucked on his familiar organ.
“I cannot believe it. You are telling me you can’t prove anything?”
Teresa was crestfallen. After Rodney Jackson, she had dared get her hopes up again but was now being told that they had no evidence against Sir Stanley for Sophie’s disappearance. Despite finally proving he could not have been in the area at the time, suspicions had remained he had paid some other gang to do his dirty work. But analysis of the note found it had been written on paper found in Sophie’s bedroom. So it was very unlikely that Sophie had written it months later in captivity.
Teresa was crushed. One explanation, the truth, was that the note was written by Sophie on the morning of her disappearance and put into her coat then and there, and Teresa had only found it months later. But the other explanation was that Teresa had either forged it, or found it and planted it on Sir Stanley after finding it.
Teresa’s wild lifestyle before and after Sophie’s disappearance now made the police think there was something to the suspicions that Teresa was involved with her disappearance. The police arrested her old friend, Tommy Petrakis as well and found he had used underage girls as prostitutes. They found no trace of the punter known as “Geoff” that Pembroke had pretended to be.
Pembroke was delighted with how the investigation was turning out, and enjoyed sitting in Jenny’s cafe at the weekends, looking at her pretty, stressed face, as she tried to cope working with worrying about the complete collapse of her family. Taking her now was out of the question, so he could simply window shop at ease, admiring her firm backside in her tight black trousers as she bent over to clean the table in front of him. Suddenly she turned around :
“Are you a journalist or something?”
Pembroke’s easy smile disappeared and he became very nervous when face to face with the assertive, and angry, older Yildiz sister.
“Err … no I just like having my coffee here…”
“You followed me the other day, and you are here every other Saturday. Look I don’t know if that Sir Stanley whatthefuck is paying you, or what you are, but just fuck off and leave me alone. I will call the police if I see you here again.”
Pembroke became flustered and left quickly. Goodness, what a rude young girl! Her younger sister would pay for that later, with a sound spanking and thrashing of the hands. He was, however, grateful that Sophie had little of the fire that her older sister had.
This was a wake up call though, imagine if she had called the police? He had done nothing wrong, yet neither had Sir Stanley! And his mansion had been dug up! Pembroke was sweating as he walked away. And all for perving on Sophie’s sister’s ass, and enjoying her displeasure while making coffee?
Such a silly thing to do, he reflected. Why stare at one sister when you can fuck the other? He resolved to go home, give Sophie a sound thrashing on account of her sister’s rudeness to make himself feel better, and then fuck her to within an inch of her life.
Sir Stanley’s life had been ruined by one piece of bad luck with a hooker. He could declare himself innocent of Sophie’s disappearance but not the scandal that had ruined him. He sued the police and the taskforce searching for Sophie had to be taken apart.
Many people and police officers still believed she had been taken or murdered, and there was still the mystery of who had taken her images and videos and possibly blackmailed her, but her files started to gather dust and she just became another sad case of a girl who had probably killed herself and had gone out to sea.
Pembroke contineud to take Sophie out to his back garden every now and then for some sun, under extreme bondage. On one such morning, Sophie was propped up, tied into her special wardrobe, gagged and naked, as Pembroke’ mother gazed at her like she was an exotic stuffed animal. “Don’t mind my mother, its chilly outside! It’s warm here in the conservatory, and you will get some UV light, but in a while I will take you in the real air. Those nipples of yours will stand out like mountain peaks you’ll be that cold!” He sniggered as he tweaked her nipples as she moved uncomfortably within the confines of her binds.
Pembroke had figured out that the visions of the blue sky outside might give Sophie some ideas of freedom, and so he made sure that her trips outside were always as uncomfortable and unpleasant as possible, something to dread rather than look forward to.
He had carefully arranged ropes tied to various well-chosen spots and from Sophie’s bound position was able to tie each of her limbs to each of the four ropes, then pull her spread eagled. When she was on her back, he placed a cushion under her bottom. He could have put a more substantial covering under her for comfort, but comfort was not his aim, but wanted her hips thrust upwards so her legs and arms pulled her body down to the four corners where the ropes originated from.
Pembroke was ever ready with a covering blanket in the unlikeyl event he was disturbed, theough he took the time to admire Sophie’s form under the sunlight, her pristine white skin soaking in the sun like a plant in the desert receiving rain, her pelvic bones sticking out and her tight skin stretched across her stomach like an elastic band, the skin moving gently with her breathing as he ran his hand across it.
When turned on her stomach, he removed the cushion underneath and instead placed items under each of the four ropes, affecting the ropes’ trajectories and pulling her legs and arms upwards. He admired her firm sinewy thighs and buttocks as they handled the strain, despite the protestations of pain coming from behind her gag. Her ass cheeks were parted and her privates were open to the cold November sun. “You are getting an all over tan, Sophie, not many people suntan their assholes!”
After the outside torture had finished and Sophie was safely back in her basement, Pembroke asked her for any advice she could give about security.
“No daddy, I did not see the codes and I don’t think I can get past the thumbprint screens now. I wasn’t looking around your garden, honest. I can’t think of any way to escape.” Pembroke smiled, previously he had whipped her hands with the birch branch when she had been unable to think of a way she could escape, to test both her and the security, but now he was happy to believe her. He rubbed her palms, now as marked with scars as an African tribesman with tribal markings, the only part of her body currently marked. A slight cut above her eye, an unfortunate result of Pembroke’s anger at her not hearing his command to move from sucking his cock to licking his nipples, had now healed, he was pleased to see.
Sophie had stopped actively seeking or even thinking about escape. If God wants it, he would give her a chance to escape, if not she would not hurt herself by trying. If God wanted the outside world to help, then that would happen as well, whether she wanted it or not.
Christmas came around in 2013. Two concurrent celebrations both appeared very weird in their own unique way.
Pembroke had Christmas dinner with his mother, feeding her some Turkey. Then afterward, he had dressed in an obscene sex shop Santa outfit and gone to the basement to enjoy a festive romp with his sex slave.
Sophie, as commanded, was dressed as a sexy elf. A short green dress, barely covering white knickers underneath, a red hat, pointed ears, clumsily done makeup, with a red pained nose, made her look vaguely Christmassy. Pembroke was dressed in a small red vest with white frills and red thong, with a santa hat and fake beard. She thought to last Christmast, spent happily with her family, playing games, watching TV, laughing, and enjoying how tight-knit they had been as a family.
Now, she had to sit in silence while her tormentor talked to himself about how wonderful his year had been, fat and oafish in an obscene costume, while she waited for the ‘festivities’ to begin.
Some of his sick games included inserting stuffing up her ass and pussy and eating out it out of her, playing another sick game of Simon says in which the birch branch was brought out on her hands again, and finally, an extended half-an hour of dancing she had to do for him.
She recalled the charade games she had played with Jenny and Mum last Christmas. Now, in her skimpy dress, she was dancing to mindless pop music while twerking and grinding her body against this fat ugly old man. She wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. Her life was passing her by, in the worst way imaginable!
Pembroke had the Christmas of his life. He munched on her turkey flavoured pussy as he held her, upside down, in a 69 position. Sophie, suspended by only his grip on her ass, was upside down and had to suck his cock, blood flowing to her head while she wondered what would happen if he dropped her. If she broke her back, maybe he would kill her, put her out of her misery. For now, she just had to concentrate on draining the cum from his balls. That was her main objective every time, to ensure some peace, some alone time, and freedom from pain and punishment.
“As they lay together after sex, Pembroke revealed to her that he had a Christmas present for her sister and mother.
“What … what do you mean daddy?”
“I mean that last night, Santa Claus was sending something special down the chimney for your mummy. I finally uploaded that video of her having sex with me. I mean, everyone knows she is a whore, so that is a bit disappointing, it won’t be such a shock, but still, it will be fun won’t it, when everyone sees the video and passes it around! Looking at her pussy up close as she walks past and laughing at her! Your old friends at school will have a field day haha”
Sophie did not say anything.
“What do you say, Sophie?”
“I mean I am sad for my mother, but I cannot stop you.”
“That’s right, I’m sad for her too! Poor woman, what a year, lost her daughter, outed as a whore, and now naked sex videos online, haha”
The humiliation turned Pembroke on, and he rolled onto Sophie, “time for another round, Sophie…”
Sophie was not so worried about her mother anymore. It seemed a long time ago and another world. She half blamed her mother now, and could only think that if her mother’s life was now devastated, it was only a small taste of what she, Sophie, had to deal with every single day.
It was a somber Christmas day for the remaining Yildiz family in Teresa’s small flat in East London. The festive decorations seemed muted, their colors subdued by the weight of loss. On the dining table, a single framed photograph of Sophie, with her warm smile and bright eyes, sat like a quiet sentinel, reminding them of the void left by her absence. This was their first Christmas without her, and her presence was dearly missed.
Teresa and Jenny had shed tears earlier, the pain of their loss hitting them in waves. They’d tried to fill the space with the familiar sounds and scents of the holiday—baking a turkey, sharing stories about Sophie, and playing her favorite Christmas songs—but nothing could entirely lift the shadow that hung over them.
The past few months had been tough on their relationship. But today, on this Christmas day, they found themselves growing closer, each willing to forgive and understand the other’s pain.
As Jenny scrolled through her phone, she noticed more and more notifications pop up. She was on the sofa, huddled next to her mother watching a Christmas movie, as she read the messages. She opened a link, and was shocked to see pornography, a red headed woman, looking into a camera, licking her lips, rubbing her breasts and licking her nipples, then approaching an erect penis and starting to suck on it, her eyes on the ‘camera’ the whole time.
“Oh turn that off Jenny, is that one of your friends, sending you porn as a joke?”
“Sorry mum…”Jenny was flustered but then looked closer at the screen. “Oh … mum … that’s you!!!”
Teresa stopped, shocked, and peered across her daughter at her screen. It was Teresa! She was licking and sucking on a cock in a disgustingly obscene way, her mouth open and tongue flashing like a porn star! When had this been taken?
“This must be fake, I haven’t been in any movie, what … Oh my God, let me get my laptop.”
Jenny was shocked by this horrible intrusion into their Christmas. She immediately thought of Sophie and her video and how she must have felt.
Her mum got the laptop up, and they watched the video. She was watching herself, she was now upright, dancing in her underwear. “Yes darling, I have plenty of experience with this, don’t worry, I take care of all my clients. Sex is my job haha” She winked at the camera, then put her hand into her panties and groped her own tits.
“What the FUCK!!” Teresa slammed the laptop down, and started screaming. “OH NO! Everyone is gonna see this!”
“Mum is that you working as a prostitute? You agreed to be filmed?”
“No! I don’t know what that is! I didn’t agree nothing … I … Oh OK yeah I was working as a hooker but … no … how…”
Jenny checked another message, this time with video stills, of her mother with her legs spread, her asshole and pussy on display, glistening and her face in the background grinning lecherously.
“Who is sending these messages?” Teresa was pulling her hair out in panic. It seemed to be random people from all over the world, as well as some concerned friends.
“Jesus Christ mum, you are naked, and doing … uughh … I cannot believe you brought more shame on this family after everything. Fucking hell, its your fault Sophie is missing, is this what you were doing when Sophie was going through her hell alone? Fuck you, I’m off I don’t want to see you again.”
Jenny tearfully gathered her things and stormed out of the flat.
“Please Jenny, no! Please…”
Teresa was torn, she wanted to chase after her daughter but wanted this video deleted. It took a while to sink in that the video was online and now might as well be forever. Everyone had seen it by now, probably. She hung her head and cried as she checked various websites and saw the same thing as had happened with Sophie’s pictures and videos.
“Teresa Yildiz, mother of disappeared girl Sophie, here working as a hooker taking cock in her cunt and ass like a whore”. In one site, it was next to a video of Sophie, each with the tag “Yildiz family”
Teresa began to sob loudly. She could not even think of which client might have done this, maybe it was the German, or the Canadian, she could barely remember the names. She thought of the Canadian’s glasses … yes that was him! But that had been months ago and he had said he was leaving the country.
Anyway, the bastard had ruined her life. What did it matter anymore? She was famous as a whore before but now she would be naked forever. Unlike Sophie, she would have to walk around in public with everyone having seen her in the most intimate positions imaginable. Poor Sophie, at least she had not had to deal with this!
Jenny stormed down the tower black stairs, in floods of tears. She passed one of her mum’s neighbors, Gladys, the old Jamaican lady. The old lady cocked her head to the side, her eyes flashing with mischief. “Ehh? Mi see ya mum deh pon di internet again, eh? Lawd a mercy!! Mi cyan believe it, star. Di woman ah real ponstah!”
Jenny walked on, without acknowledging her. She had to get away from her mother, away from this country, now.
That evening, Pembroke attended a Christmas carol service at church with his mother. He sang along and rejoiced in what had been a wonderful year for him. He smiled at Mabel, who looked very happy and angelic in her black jumper and tight trousers emphasizing her pert buttocks. She would make an excellent Christmas present, Pembroke thought, as he waved at her while she collected for the church, and imagined her locked in a 69 with Sophie, her back raised in welts in punishment for disobedience.
He brushed off a single red hair he found on his coat, smiling nervously and reminding himself to be more careful, and put it on the envelope he passed onto Mabel’s hand as she passed, smiling at the thought of them literally locked together.
Chapter 38
Posted: 12/05/2024, 12:24:01
Updated: 14/05/2024, 08:09:05
A year in the life of fifteen years olds passes very slowly as it is such a large proportion of their live already lived compared to older people. For fifty six year old Edward Pembroke it had gone by in a flash while for Sophie Yildiz it had stretched for an eternity. Of course, their experiences has been different. Sophie had spent the year in a basement, the vast majority of it alone in a cell within the basement, and the rest suffering degradation and abuse from Pembroke, who had enjoyed very moment of it.
In early March 2014 her fifteenth birthday had been ‘celebrated’ with a marathon sex session. Pembroke’s present had been a high powered vibrator, which he held under hear pussy as she was strapped to the St Andrews Cross. He had indulged himself with a cigar in the air conditioned basement, a rare treat which would leave a smell for weeks.
Sophie had previously only experienced her own fingers, and Pembroke’s tongue fingers and cock on her genitals as he had not wanted to dull her experiences with machines. And so this experience had been literally eye watering for her. Pembroke sat beside her, running his hands in awe at her toned slick body as its muscles rippled and contorted as she stood stretched taut, her whole body shaking as the vibrator worked its magic between her legs. He gazed lovingly at her bone structure, tracing his fingertips under her rib cage and along the spaces between her ribs until her flesh collected in the growing globes of her breasts.
All the while, she was screaming her head off with the sensation of the fire growing in he pussy and clit as orgasm after orgasm tore through her body. Pembroke had to clip her neck against the board of the cross to keep her hair from flicking out into his face as he inspected the minutiae of her body.
His second ‘birthday present’ delivered to her while she was still on the cross, a cute little piercing to her left nipple. Pembroke was a bit nervous about infections and so only wanted to try one at first. He also wanted one nipple free for the contrast. Sophie had begged for the vibrations to stop, but wanted to faint as he brought the table closer, now with wipes, antiseptic cream, needles and a small metallic adornment.
“Happy birthday Sophie, you are getting spoiled this year!”
She braced herself as Pembroke sucked on her nipple, then wiped it free of sweat and grim with the wipe, and shoved the needle through at the base, holding his other arm against her chest to stop the shaking movements. Sophie looked down in horror at the needle sticking through her nipple, with Pembroke following though with a larger steel cylinder which opened the wound wider. He then quickly screwed in some adornments on either end of the cylinder leaving Sophie with a piercing which looked like a bone protruding through the nipple.
After wiping the blood away with more antiseptic he warned her: “Now don’t you dare unscrew that piercing, it looks too nice! If I want it gone I will replace it with something much bigger and pierce you elsewhere as well. Thought, to be honest, we are going to get to your other places eventually, this look too cute!” Sophie squirmed as he picked at her nose, lips and tongue to imagine what piercings he could put there.
After all that work, he treated himself to her pussy. He was amazed at the juices which had poured out of her onto the floor and was all over the insides of her thighs. He ate her for what seemed like hours, enjoyed her engorged insides and musky taste after countless squirts and orgasms.
When she was finally released, Sophie felt like she could sleep for a week. Her legs were like jelly from supporting herself on the cross and the constant twitching from the vibrations. Despite cleaning herself and changing into new knickers, she still orgasmed even in her sleep, from the delayed reactions to the vibrator as its effects echoed within her, and she constantly woke up to find her knickers soaked through again.
It occurred to her that she had first spoken with ‘Luke’ whom she now knew as an alter ego of her captor, whom she only knew as ‘daddy’ on her fourteenth birthday. What a curse that had been, the small little things that had led her to this. Surely, she cannot spend next birthday here? But what would stop it?
Pembroke had maintained his image as a harmless bachelor living with his mother, shy and awkward in front of his female pupils but with no whiff of scandal about him. People did find he had lost weight and seemed happier.
He still indulged his passions online, though did not look for new girls. He merely enjoyed his past conquests and others’ newly acquired ones. One such early conquest had been Sally Bustamante, a then 23 year old High School teacher in a small town outside of Des Moines, Iowa. At the age of 19, in 2007, she had taken some videos and photos of herself, naked and in revealing underwear, while drunk. One video showed her masturbating with her fingers and then an empty wine bottle.
She had been a little turned on when watching them later. But she knew the damages these could cause her would destroy her future if they got out. She wanted to be a teacher and knew this would ruin any chance of that. And so she showed them to no one, not even boyfriends, nor her fiancé whom she planned to marry in 2011. She was then a High School teacher, having achieved her dream, and at the tender age of 23 was looking forward to a happy life. She was beautiful, 5 feet 6, blonde, blue eyes and with a figure others would kill for. Her fiancé, a young lawyer, was looking forward to starting a family and making a political career in future.
She could never articulate why she never deleted the material from her hard drive, she had loved her body and was a little frustrated it must always be under wraps, and each time she remembered it, she delayed the deletion, and then forgot about them.
In 2011, Pembroke had experimented with a social media marketing campaign for a fake animal charity. He had plenty of interest, as he anticipated, from beautiful young women who, when viewing cute animals in need, had no thoughts about being scammed. Sally had been one of many girls who had downloaded a link to view a ‘live feed’ of a cat recovering form an injury. As the girls viewed the video, their hearts warming over the happy feline, they did not suspect that a dangerous pervert was busy breaking into their systems and going through their files.
Most did not click on the link fully, and of the few that did, most were either protected or Pembroke’s software did not work properly or he was not quick enough to get to them, or it happened when he was away. It worked properly on only a small minority and of them, Pembroke either had no interest, they were too old, ugly, or were men. And of the small minority of eligible young women, he could find nothing of interest. All except Sally Bustamante. She was the one fish left caught in a net aimed at thousands, Pembroke reflected ruefully.
But what a catch! She was stunning, and her photos and videos were of excellent quality and the acts captured, particularly the wine bottle going deep into her pussy as she moaned into the camera, were very hardcore. Added to that was her profession. Teachers were always popular with the revenge porn community, and her having a happy stable loving family and relationship added extra sugar on top.
She had been one of his first conquests and still one of his proudest. She had been utterly bewildered and shocked at first at how the footage had escaped. An anonymous tip off from a text, and then a google of her name, had left her speechless. All the years of modesty, of wearing shorts under her cheerleader outfits, of making her fiancé wait month, all had been thrown out with this. The footage had multiplied like a virus and she felt the world collapse in on her.
Her family had not disowned her but were “disappointed” to say the lease. Her fiancé broke off the engagement. Her school fired her. She became infamous overnight, with smirks and glances coming at her every time she walked down the street.
She at first had refused to let this calamity wreck her life forever and so spent thousands of dollars to change her name, and move to Los Angeles California. She took a job as a teacher under ‘Sally Smith’ dyed her hair black and stopped using all social media.
Pembroke had liked to keep tabs on his girls, enjoying the permanence of their misery and the continuing impact he had brought to their life. After a particularly bad day at work, it made him feel like he made a difference in the world to witness their ongoing suffering, knowing he had caused it, to these beautiful, hitherto untouchable girls.
Sophie Bustamante had dropped off the face of the earth, which peeved Pembroke somewhat. It was not quite cricket, he thought, to hide herself away. He had thought she might have killed herself, at which he felt a small pang of guilt, but could not find no mention of it among her many friends on their profiles.
After checking on her periodically every few months, he noticed a mention of one of Sally’s Facebook friends visiting LA to see her. He then saw a photo of Sally with black hair, accompanied by one of her old friends whom she still liked, on her friend’s profile. Using details from the background of the photo, he managed to locate the place. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t find any mention of Sally Bustamante in that area. Suspecting she might have pursued teaching, he searched local schools. Quickly scanning through Facebook pages of schools, he stumbled upon her profile, where she was pictured with her students during a soccer game, her hair dyed black.
Sally used to be carefree, enjoying being photographed and engaging in activities without any concerns about publicity. In fact, she thrived on it. But now, she felt like she was living a clandestine life, akin to that of a criminal, and she despised it. The fear of being photographed gripped her, and she was wary of her friend’s spontaneous selfie in LA and being included in the school photo. However, she felt powerless to refuse at the time.
This new way of life was unbearable for her. Occasionally, the unfairness of it all overwhelmed her, and she found herself crying herself to sleep. She couldn’t understand why she was being punished so severely when she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Google had manipulated search results related to her previous name, burying links to pornographic sites deep within search pages. However, even when searching on porn-specific search engines, her old name still surfaced. She had never engaged with pornography before this ordeal, and the countless hours she spent scouring the internet for posts about her on degrading sites, trying to remove her personal content, had severely damaged her perception of life. The time she could have dedicated to self-care activities and rest was instead consumed by navigating the dark corners of the internet, where she was constantly confronted with images of her own nudity. This relentless exposure had taken a significant toll on her mental health.
Sophie had looked at the videos and photos of Sally as she sat on Pembroke’s lap, his hand under her top and massaging her breasts as she looked at the wine bottle move in and out of the blonde woman’s vagina. She had seen so much porn this past year, and had so much done to her, that it did not seem very out of place. Nor was her captor’s glee as he described how he had utterly fucked this poor young woman’s life and was planning on wrecking her attempt at starting a new one.
“You see Sophie, once these girls get in my sights, they are mine forever, just like you!”
A disquieting feeling gnawed at Sally Smith all morning. The way classmates, both boys and girls, kept stealing glances at her, the hurried disappearance of phones as she approached, and the muffled snickers from the back of the room – it all added up to something wrong. When the summons to the principal’s office arrived, a pit of dread formed in her stomach.
As the head of the school turned his screen to her, she almost vomited at the sight of her own self, naked and in an extremely explicit position, staring back at her. It was a sight she knew too well, one of many that now defined her as a person to almost everyone who had known her, and would ever know her.
Some of the staff were apologetic but also baffled at how silly she must have been to let those images get online. She was fired with immediate effect. As she packed her belongings, the taunts continued. A group of boys snickered, “Wine anyone?” followed by another eruption of laughter.
With tears streaming down her face, Sally fled the school and ran home. Burying her head in her pillow, she screamed in anguish. The images, branded into her mind like a permanent tattoo, seemed to mock her future. All night long, she wrestled with the question – how could she possibly move forward with this burden, with her reputation stained forever, from which she would never escape?
Pembroke read the comments on her profile from his new update on Sally Smith, teacher in Los Angeles. Sophie had now been relegated to kneeling between his legs, and sucking on his cock, as he sat at the computer. As he started at photos of Sally, proud in her graduation and engagement party, he glanced down at Sophie, obediently sucking him under his large belly. These two females would never have any time of day for him in the ‘real world’ but here he was a God, bringing wrath to both of them, and it felt amazing.
The anniversary of Sophie’s disappearance hit many people hard. Teresa was also abusing wine bottles, though only to drink from, as she cried at her absence, wondered where she was, and made heartfelt social media comments at how she missed her, how useless the police were and how horrible the world was. She attracted the kind of sympathy crazy women get. Most of her friends had seen her naked now, having sex on camera as a prostitute and it was she, rather than the police or any imaginary murderer/kidnapper, that most people blamed for her disappearance.
Rodney Jackson’s family had to grieve their dead son, and plain old Stanley Bridgerton, having been stripped of his knighthood, had to contemplate how his life had collapsed ever since visiting that stupid whore, as he spent his time in Italy, now cut off from his family and his previous career and life, a lifetime of achievement destroyed in a moment of madness.
Emma Bradley was looking forward to the summer. She had grown into a beautiful young woman after a regime of running had transformed her body and had her pick of the boys. On the anniversary of Sophie’s disappearance, she felt no guilt about spreading her images, only relief that the police had not pursued it. She only wished the pale skinny bitch was still around to see how she had grown to be more beautiful than her.
Jenny Yildiz had been at a beach party in Bali on the anniversary. The memory of her sister’s disappearance had depressed her, and her efforts to ease her sadness with drugs and alcohol had disastrous effects. She tried to dance her worries away on the beach until the early hours, in nothing but a black thong bikini. Everyone gradually slipped away while she continued to dance around a campfire, trying to get Sophie from her mind.
Some locals, who had been perving at the girls all night, grew braver now that most of the partygoers were gone. They leered at the nineteen year old beauty as she danced, her black hair flickering in the air, her hips swaying suggestively and lit up by the fire, her firm young body young moving to the distant music. Sweat dripped down her body as she moved.
One of the locals finally approached her, offering some more drugs. Jenny laughed, and accepted a toke of a joint. Through the haze of drugs and alcohol, she slowly realised the danger she was in as more men encircled her, and started to touch her as she danced.
“Wait … fuck off…” she looked for other white people, but was alarmed to see that it was not just her and about ten locals. “Hey … no … hey!” She could barely get the words out as they grabbed at her elbows, and pulled her from the campfire and into some bushes a little further away. “No … help!” But her shouts fell on deaf ears, no one heard over the sound of waves and distant music as others were out of it and in deep sleep back at the camp site hundreds of metres away.
Jenny felt herself being invaded by twenty different hands, fighting each other for control of her beasts and entry into her orifices. Her bikini was ripped off her body, she tried to scream as fingers plunged themselves deep into her ass and pussy, apparently from different men at the same time. There was shouting between them and she thought she might be saved, but it was just about the order in which they would rape her.
She was raped by several men in missionary position as the onlooker cheered, and then flipped onto her hands and knees and raped some more, with cocks being waved in her face. She was slapped several times, “you suck, bitch, you suck good!” After tasting blood after one such strike, she nodded meekly and opened her mouth to take a cock there, while being pounded from behind. She grimaced as she felt a cock pushing at her anus and she was pushed onto her stomach as her new rapist cursed at her, until he got it full inside her to the renewed cheers of the others. Jenny screamed as she felt the tissues inside her tear apart.
She was barely able to move at the end, drugs alcohol, punches and slaps, and the tears of her pussy and asshole made her immobile and she cried on the ground as several men started pissing on her as they laughed, and she noticed them taking photos of the incident. “White bitch” one of them spat at her, as they walked away, laughing to themselves.
Jenny staggered to her feet. She could not find her bikini and had to walk, naked, along the beach, blood pouring from between her legs as she limped along in great pain. One man came running up, “Miss, miss!” It was a young teenage boy and she thought he would help her, but she wrong. He had heard about the gang rape and just wanted in on the action.
He wrestled her to the ground and she put up little resistance as he fucked her in the sand, and even tried to kiss her. She lay there passively, and her mind went to her sister Sophie, and she had a horrible moment of empathy, maybe she was alive and this was happening to her?
Caked in blood and sand and barely able to walk let alone stand, she appeared naked at the reception of the campsite. She broke down and was comforted by the other holidaymakers. Rather than press charges she felt back to Australia the next day. She cried on the plane, thinking of the utter indignity and cruelty of men and the world.
Sophie’s ‘Capture Day’ was celebrated on June 20th 2014. Pembroke had spent the day at school leering at the schoolgirls and congratulating himself on the fine catch he had at home. Sophie was wearing her school uniform, the one she had on her when he had captured her. She almost had a breakdown when she thought it had been twelve months. What on earth must be going on outside?
Sophie sat in the naru position in her uniform, knees spread and palms upturned, the skin almost permanently marked by the birch. She had to tell Pembroke what she ‘achieved’ in the last year and what she hoped to achieve next year.
“Daddy, I am pleased that you do not beat me so much anymore, I think that must mean I have behaved better and made you happier. I understand that my duty here is to make your life happier, not mine.”
“Excellent, Sophie, yes, well done! You have progressed well. I am proud of you, and proud of myself! I am looking forward to an exciting new year. I am going to reward you with a bigger cell, and more amusements outside of your duties. Now, however, I want you to make love to me, and I want this to match the occasion. I really don’t want to bring out any torture on a special day like today, but I will have to if you don’t perform extra well now!”
The sex was amazing, Pembroke had to admit. He suckled on her tits and thought of how much they had grown over the last year, she was no longer a small breasted girl, they were pert and firm, and not swinging and meaty yet like her mother, but perfect for his mouth. The metallic taste of the piercing in one nipple swam in his mouth as he sucked on the metal bit, causing her to grunt in discomfort, and he passed to the other nipple, still just flesh, and sucked and bit on that.
Sophie had no desire for pain and torture today, and had learned to perform well sexually, she had grown to gain pleasure from most forms of sex, it was the only way to do it well. As she bounced up and down on his cock, letting it crash into her cervix, she moaned through half closed eyes. She looked down, and her eyes locked on those of Pembroke, lying back. He was staring at her, like a hungry wolf. Each was wondering what the other truly thought. Did he think or hope that she loved him, that she was truly slavelike? Did she believe she could manipulate him, was he falling for her beyond something like a sex object? It was in Sophie’s interest to make him believe she loved this, and the act was starting to take over her. But it was her only way, to avoid punishment, to make life bearable down here, and to provide her with the slim possibility that one day, she would somehow have the chance of escape.
Detective Gerald Murphy drank a glass of whiskey as he looked over the Sophie Yidiz file. He was convinced she was not dead, and out there, somewhere. But the unit looking for her had been disbanded after Bridgeton had sued them. Surely there must be something that would turn up eventually, if only her dead body on a beach somewhere, bring this all to a close.
Chapter 39
Posted: 13/05/2024, 14:34:00
Updated: 14/05/2024, 16:53:23
At the beach, under the golden blaze of the afternoon sun, the shoreline stretched like a welcoming embrace. Laughter danced in the air as a group of carefree girls frolicked in the surf, their energy palpable as they chased each other through the shallows.
Clad in colorful swimsuits and bikinis, their youthful exuberance was on full display as they splashed in the shallows, and raced along the water’s edge with unbridled enthusiasm.
A group of older teenage girls lounged on beach towels, their expressions tinged with a mixture of boredom and disdain as they observed the younger girls’ antics.
Dressed in more fashionable and revealing bikinis, they reclined on their towels with an air of nonchalance, their gazes cool and detached as they sipped from chilled beverages and flipped through glossy magazines.
From their vantage point, they observed the younger girls’ playful frolicking with a mixture of amusement and condescension.
Both sets of girls were being watched by another onlooker. Edward Pembroke stared through dark glasses as he licked his ice cream, imagining instead he was running his tongue over the upturned buttocks of one of the girls lying on the beach, a dark skinned girl with long curly black tresses in a light pink thong bikini.
“Patience and perseverance, Edward,” Pembroke reminded himself quietly as he observed the girls amid the throngs on the crowded beach. He was aware that his prey was within range, but he understood the importance of waiting for the perfect moment. He couldn’t afford to be hasty; instead, he needed to exercise caution and be prepared to relinquish his target if the situation became too precarious.
However, the fact that he had already succeeded with Sophiel weighed heavily on him, leaving him frustrated that it was proving difficult to replicate his success despite the abundance of lovely targets surrounding him.
Sophie had not bored him, in fact he loved how submissive she was being. Her massages were not just as valuable to him as her cock sucking capabilities and her obedience meant he did not have the stress and worries that may have led him to eliminate her if he did tire of the sex. He reminded himself of his responsibility as her owner and smiled proudly to himself that he had taken good care of her and trained her well.
As he watched the girls walk towards him in their skimpy costumes, he found had had to face around. He would not want to be confused for a lecherous predator! He snuck a glance at their asses revealed by their thongs and felt a pang of anger that they had this power over him.
It had been a nice day out at the beach. Having Sophie and his mother meant there would be no long holidays but it was nice to get out and about.
He had long marvelled at how cheap it was to have Sophie now that he had taken her and sunk all the costs in the basement. Ronald the rat almost cost as much to run, he laughed to himself.
And so that led him to the obvious conclusion, it would be a crime not to try to add to his collection. He knew he needed the perfect candidate, even more so than before.
He had fantasied to Sophie about bringing her mother or sister to be imprisoned with her, and often taunted her of what sexual acts he would have forced them to engage in together. But for a variety of reasons neither were suitable victims. The sister, Jenny was a little too strident, and the mother just too … old for his tastes. There was also the obvious difficulty in procuring them and transporting them without being found out, or alerting anyone.
Sophie’s ‘death’ had been a godsend. He had nightmares of his own house being dug up on the vaguest of suspicions. It was for this reason that his ideal victim must be young, meek, pretty, and to be either a girl no one cared about, or someone whose suicide/death he could easily fake.
It was one reason he liked to speculate on the beach. It was not just the pretty girls on full display, such as the dark haired, pink thonged girl now ordering ice cream at a van. It was the ease with which that poor girl might ‘disappear’ beneath the waves to never be found again.
But the sheer number of people here, along with the seeming allergy all these pretty young girls had to any kind of dangerous behaviour in isolated places, meant that it was very unlikely he could orchestrate any sort of successful kidnap here.
As with his normal life, he noted sadly, his best chance was online. It was late summer and school would restart soon. That evening, he relaxed with Sophie as he lay back, and received a massage.
“That’s it Sophie dear, work the soles of my feet. Yesss…” he sighed, as the poor girl clad in tiny tight lilac shorts and form fitting blue T shirt dug her fingers in. “Oh, and you might notice later when you do my ears, I got the hairs burnt off yesterday at the barbers so they are nice and smooth! So no excuse for you not to get your tongue in and around all of my ears this time!” Sophie winced at one of her least favorite activities, licking the insides of his ears, often very waxy and hairy. She actually preferred licking his feet and asshole to his ears, though Pembroke loved it.
“The girls at the beach were amazing, such tight bodies and toned tummies, we need to keep yours like that Sophie so I will look to modify your exercise routine!”
“Yes, daddy, I will work hard on it, whatever you give me” Sophie felt a little putout, her body was developing but her stomach was still like a washboard.
“I saw so many girls that I would like to put down here with you. With your complexion, I think it will have to be a dark girl. Would be nice contrast” he mused absent mindedly as if talking about buying cats.
“It’s just so damn hard! You were such a good little girl, Sophie, to come into my web, but there seems to be a lot more caution with young ladies now. I think if I tried the same thing on you now, you probably wouldnt have come out to meet me, so I guess we are lucky, but it does mean that getting you a mate will not be easy.”
The ‘we’ statement annoyed Sophie, she might be outwardly obedient but she most certainly was not ‘lucky’ this life had befallen her.
Pembroke was just as aware of this as she, and just liked to prod at her. “OK Sophie, enough with your hands, use your tongue now on my feet, start with my right foot, and just go around my sole with it.”
Sophie opened her mouth, and ran her long tongue around his foot, as on command.
“What about your cousin, Linda? The one at the private school? She had dirty blonde hair, very jolly hockey sticks sort, and very pretty too! You didn’t really know her did you?”
Sophie was a little alarmed that he was going back into her family. But she was still hopeful that any abduction he might plan would lead to his downfall, and her release, so tried to allow this to sate her desire to scream at him to leave her family alone.
“Not really sir, no, my mother and her mother are sisters but they are not close.”
“Haha I can imagine. Your mum is a bit of a whore, lets be honest Sophie! And she works as a carer and a cleaner. Must be quite sickening for her sister to be a nurse and married to a doctor! She definitely didn’t win the family lottery did she!”
“I am just a little sad that my family would have to suffer again if you did take her.” Sophie felt she had to say it, she knew he wanted her to, and knew it would not make any difference.
“Well, Sophie, maybe they could look at like a bonding exercise if they both lost their daughters. And they should both be proud, if you or your cousin were ugly I wouldn’t be interested! They should be flattered haha, OK Sophie, now move over to the other foot, same thing, with your tongue.”
Sophie moved to his other foot and lapped at it, as she thought of her cousin. Linda Hilal was half Lebanese and beautiful in her own way. She was two school years younger than Sophie and the age gap had meant they did not have that much in common growing up. Then she thought of the age gap between her and the man who owned her, whose foot she was now licking, and grimaced at the irony.
Her cousin was more privileged and had gone on ski trips, and operas and did ballet, things that Sophie and Jenny could not even imagine doing. Her cousin lived in semi rural Warwickshire, and their house was embarrassingly large compared to their tower flat. They had visited each other once each as Sophie had remembered and both families had been so embarrassed by the inequality that subsequent meetings were only in ‘neutral’ venues.
“The thing is, suicide tends to run in families, and I know you are cousins, but it might be a little thing to throw the police off. Of course you had good reason to kill yourself, those awful pictures! but Linda seems to have the world at her feet. Then again, how old is she, thirteen, fourteen? You never know with young girls, what they are hiding. So many parents, I’ve noticed, they never know whats going on. I mean look at Teresa, I mean, your mum!”
Sophie tried to control herself as she stuck to the task at hand, closing her eyes, and moving her tongue. But Pembroke noticed the change in movement and smiled, he liked to fuck with her mind like this.
“I’m sure you could be kindred spirts down here, though of course you would have to remember, that tongue is for what you are doing now! I am not going to want you to be getting too chatty with your cousin or anyone I bring down here, you will both be here to serve me not to gossip and it will be your responsibility to teach your new mate this!”
“Yes, daddy, of course” she responded in a deadpan manner as she licked his soaking foot, tasting little more than her own saliva.
“Now move to the other foot, and start sucking on each toe starting with the smallest, do about two minutes each toe, ahhh thats it…”
The toe sucking continued in silence, save for the sighs of pleasure from Pembroke and the sucking sounds from Sophie.
“Well don’t get your hopes up, but I will take a closer look at Linda later and see what I can find!” Pembroke chuckled after several minutes. “It’s not a chore for me, it’s a pleasure to hunt for girls, I like to think it is what makes me good at it!”
Pembroke bemoaned the fact that, now back at school, he had less time to devote to Linda Hillal. From online queries he gathered she was a pupil at St Howard’s Church near Coventry but little else. Her social media was more protected than before, and he realised sadly that the golden age of the online predator might be coming to an end as girls were becoming more weary.
Her school security was very tight, as was her home, hidden from the public. She was a very different proposition to her more urban cousin in the sea of London. Her one weak spot, he could see, was that she did ballet and swimming at the weekend. But how on earth would a fifty sex year old strange single man penetrate that?
Had it been any other girl he would have just shrugged and moved to a better target and not wasted time. But he wanted to show Sophie his power, he did not want her to have any ‘win’ even if was just the knowledge he could not safely get at her cousin whom she barely knew.
Like many over protected girls who did not live in big towns or cities, Linda Hillal loved to walk around and was not overly aware of her surroundings. As she walked around Coventry between swimming and ballet, Pembroke was able to follow her on foot at a discreet distance. She was happy just to window shop and browse.
She was pretty like Sophie, with dark hair, brown eyes, and much darker skin. She was only five feet three, with a slim athletic figure as per her hobbies. It was only on examining his footage later that Pembroke realised that she wore braces on her teeth. This was a complication, removing braces from his victim was not something he knew how to do, though he could learn, and he did not want crooked teeth and orthondentistry to contend with. Enforced exercises, enforced bodily hair removal, and healthy food were the only real procedures he wanted to have to offer his victims.
He decided to keep going, he did enjoy Coventry but realised how small it was when he felt self conscious following Linda around the same places again. There must be so much CCTV footage of the two of them, he thought despondently.
On this Saturday in October she was wearing a hoodie and tight leggings and the view from behind was nice enough to film with his hidden camera. He knew that after the ballet, she would get a bus back, and get off in a small town where her father would be waiting to collect her, if things went the same as before.
He promised himself this would be his last stalking Saturday, and so indulged himself, watching her in the pool, filming her in her tight swimsuit. He would have loved to see in a ballet costume but alas this was too far.
In a flash of inspiration, he drove to the nearest town, then after checking buses, managed to catch back to the city of Coventry, and was able to catch Linda come out of her ballet class. She was happily chatting to the other girls and was now dressed in jeans and the same hoodie, and walked towards the bus.
Pembroke got on the same bus, and he watched her put her bag in the shelf above her head and sat below it. He had a small bag and put it beside hers.
At the first stop in the nearest town, he went to get his bag, and, seeing that no on was looking or suspecting that an old man would be a potential thief, took her bag as well and put it on his seat. He quickly covered it up with his jacket, as much as he could. It was black so was easy to hide, and walked off the bus quickly.
He marched to his car, and quickly inspected Linda’s bag. There was no electronic devices with which he could be tracked, and so he drove home.
Stopping along the way, he took another look. He grinned and cheered out loud as he saw her used leggings, her used swimsuit and a used pair of red panties. He inhaled the gusset, noting the same film of white fluid had collected there, similar to Sophie’s when he had stolen hers 18 months earlier. There was also a tutu with leggings, and and he was pleased to see she must have worn no underwear in the tutu, as it had the same film in the gusset and smelt just as musky. This was a treasure trove!
He also found a notebook of private ramblings, and her passport. Born on 29 September 2000, he noted. Oh dear, he had only wanted her underwear but the passport would be something nice to show to Sophie.
That evening, Pembroke shared the panties, swimsuit and tutu with Sophie, eventually forcing Sophie to wear the tutu. They had smelled them and Pembroke had forced her to take a test. He had blindfolded her and forced her to sniff her own panties, and the used panties of her mother and now her cousin to see if she could guess which was which. The fact that she could tell the difference sent Pembroke into fits of hysterics.
As Sophie watched this utter maniac giggle about how he had spent weeks trailing a young girl in a different city just to steal her underwear, she thought of just how low her own life must be, that this man was her overlord. He was beyond pathetic, and yet his every word, no matter how revolting, was her command.
Pembroke dropped the idea of taking Linda. He would always continue to keep on the look out for victims, but as he watched Sophie dance around in her cousin’s tutu, performing very bad ballet with a dead eyed expression of sadness, he reminded himself that he was a very, very lucky man and that he should not spoil things.
Linda had been shocked when she found her bag missing, and her father was initially furious with her, especially when he realised she had lost her passport. But he was happy that his daughter had been taught a good lesson, always be aware of your surroundings and be careful. They had no clue who had taken the bag and after reporting the passport missing did not dwell on it. The tragic fate of her cousin meant that they were just happy she was OK.
Chapter 40
Posted: 13/05/2024, 15:23:37
2014 became 2015, and Jenny Yildiz was finding that living on the other side of the world was not healing any wounds. Since her gang rape in Bali, she had turned more heavily to drugs, struggled to find any advancement in her career in recruitment, and reluctantly started to dabble in escorting to make extra, easy money.
The money was great and in her spare time she partied harder than before. As she looked at herself in the mirror, short dress covering up sexy lingerie, she noted depressingly that she was turning into her mother.
Teresa was starting to finally lose her looks, the alcohol was taking their toll and the work from Tommy Petrakis dried up overnight after he was arrested and served a short prison sentence. She may have cursed him for using her but she could not deny that the money had been good and now she was back to the grind of cleaning and caring and drinking to cope. A tattoo of the name “Sophie” on her wrist only made her more depressed each and every day.
Pembroke still had not selected a suitable target for another girl for his basement and was getting the impression from Sophie that she was silently enjoying his failure.
For her sixteenth birthday, he wrought new piercings on her. This time, on her septum, her ear, and her belly button as well as her other nipple.
It was excruciatingly painful for her, particularly as Pembroke had tied her in place and then forced her head still with excessive force from his other hand, leaving bruising along her eyes.
Pembroke had enjoyed it immensely, he had selected the jewelry for her, marvelled at the finished article, and increasingly metallic and glistening slave girl.
“Soon we will do other parts of your body. Your tongue, your clit, your labia, your lips, I am going to pierce them too, your body is a playground for me!”
The authorities were closing in on his hobby of revenge porn, his favourite sites on the dark web were being shut down along with everything on the real web. It was harder to find traces of his previous victims, and he realised that they might, in the end, actually have a normal life if they covered their tracks well.
He had tried other forums. One site was directed towards depressed teenage girls wanting to commit suicide. Pembroke had engaged with a lot of them and found one promising victim. Charlotte, from Bristol, was just fifteen and hated her life. Despite this, she was quite attractive, and Pembroke thought she might make a pleasant addition to his basement though worried what Sophie might make of this crazy girl.
She was covered in self harm scars, and though her suicide was an acceptable risk for him, he did not want her to kill Sophie as well.
She was malleable and very unstable and soon had sent a huge amount of naked videos and photos to Pembroke on a whim. It hardly seemed worth it to try and blackmail her, she did not seem to care.
Pembroke had suggested a double suicide pact with ‘herself’ and suggested she join her at some cliffs near a seaside town and they throw themselves off together.
Not only that, but she happily endorsed covering up the suicide to make it harder for her family and police to find out what had happened! Pembroke thought he had found the perfect victim, cute, sexy, and willing to disappear! He did wonder how she would adapt to captivity however. If living with a loving family made her want to kill herself, what on earth would she make of having to live in cage for the rest of her life, serving the perverted whims of an ugly old man! It might teach her the value of what she was missing, but it would be too late for her!
They had even agreed a date and Pembroke had already rented a van and got fake number plates, ready to snatch her on route to the isolated meeting point, when she vanished from the forum.
Pembroke was furious, and soon found she was alive and well and on other social media. It was obviously just a whim, for her. He had a good mind to snatch her anyway, no matter how long it took, and even surveilled her house overnight, and followed her around a local supermarket, but the opportunity just did not arise, unsurprisingly. As he walked to his van in the supermarket, he heard her shout after him “you enjoy following girls around, you fucking paedo!” She was just too streetwise for him, he needed more innocent victims!
Mabel, the girl from church, still ticked all his boxes though she was just too close to him, and her disappearance could not be explained.
At school, he often thought of his pupils and who might be best suited to disappear forever to his basement. Some girls from chaotic households were plausible victims but he did not like their wild ways. Nice, polite girls went to the top of his list but there was no way he could snatch them without it making the top of the news and having every stone lifted around the town.
As he and Sophie celebrated their second ‘Capture Day’ on 20th of June 2015, he apologised to her for failing to get her a mate. She was now so pliant and dead inside that she accepted the apology. All she looked forward to was reading, to live inside her own world in her head, while he took her body from her.
In late 2015, Lucy Seratova, reliving her terrible experience of two and a half years earlier, had responded to a forum advertisement from a Molly Streathan. The American Seratova had been exposed by Pembroke, her nudes plastered all over the internet following a humiliating interview. She had tried to come to terms with what Pembroke had done to her following therapy. She had checked for other women who had suffered the same, and found a post by Molly Streathan whose account was very similar to her own.
In 2012, Molly had shared videos and images with her ex boyfriend and when she was threatened by a stranger with exposure, she accused him, but he pled ignorance. She realized that this stranger had hacked into her laptop using techniques uncannily similar to that done to Lucy Seratova. He had demanded an online interview in which she had to strip, and list her personal details, in exchange for her nudes not being sent to every friend, family member, and associate she had.
Both girls broke down in tears over webcam as they recounted the awful experience, the heartbreak and the sheer loneliness of dealing with Pembroke. Seratova had been exposed and humiliated. Streathan had not, because she had agreed to have sex with a stranger, who was apparently a business associate of her blackmailer.
Lucy Seratova listened with horror as Molly described Edward Pembroke, his gross manner and disgusting body, as they had sex in a hotel room. He had not released anything since, for which she was grateful but she was angry and suffered flashbacks to the sex she was coerced into. Both girls agreed to stay in touch, to see if other girls came forwards and maybe give them clues as to who this animal was and his true identity.
Sophie’s placidity gave Pembroke ideas he could use her for more than just sex. This was the closest he had ever come to a “relationship” and he was struggling with the fact the woman he loved was his prisoner that he could never release.
Against his better judgment and what he had swore never to do, he brought Sophie outside the basement to clean and tend to his mother. He had her tied securely in bondage to leave the basement and had her ankles tied to the bedposts of her mother’s bed, her ankles themselves connected by a spreader bar, her waist also chained to the bed and her hands handcuffed in front of her. Her mouth was still gagged, obscenely so, with a large rubber ball.
“Time to do some work Sophie, I want you to clean my mother, be careful with her, I will be watching from over here.”
Sophie was astonished to have a fleeting moment of relative normality for the first time nearly two and a half years. She was in red shorts and bra top, gagged and still cuffed and restrained but was in a normal room with sunlight coming through the window!
His mother’s body made her appreciate Pembroke better. She was skin and bone, and so wrinkled her hands could feel every scale of her body. She was out of it, just staring at her with open eyes, every now and then she would say “Gerta” or “Maggy” or even “mama” as if Sophie, who must have looked ever so strange, was some long lost relative of her childhood.
Pembroke chose to live dangerously and went to the bathroom. He fully expected to see Sophie gone out the window, but she was still there, still cleaning her mother, still tied to the bed.
While he was gone, Sophie had whispered to the old woman “I am Sophie, Sophie Yildiz, Sophie, Sophie Yildiz” praying that she might repeat in front of some one else, preferably not her captor. She also tore off some of her long red locks and threw them around the room, hoping they might be noticed by someone, anyone.
Pembroke grew impatient, the sight of his sexy prisoner and his naked mother was not making him feel very good about any part of this! He ordered Sophie to stop, and recuffed her securely and brought her back down to the basement.
“I hope I did a good job daddy, I want to be of service to you.” Sophie hoped Pembroke might get too comfortable, and sooner or later give her a reasonable chance of escape in the future.
Pembroke was not stupid and recognised the signs of weakness. Eventually, he would let his guard down and she would escape, if did not discipline himself. He had to be careful, he told himself. Things were getting too easy, maybe he should push himself to look for more victims.
