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Dilan and her Teacher Part 5/6

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Edward Pembroke is a teacher who only fantasises about enslaving a schoolgirl, until Dilan enters his world and he makes his dream a reality

Chapter 39

Pembroke did some chores, read some papers online, and waited for the weather to get better to vacuum the car. He thought about the camera and the images of the conversations in Kurdish and Turkish. Suddenly, he realized that rather than dealing with the camera images, he could download all the contents onto a laptop. To do this, he would have to turn the phones back on, but once the data was extracted, he could destroy the phones forever. After some research, he realized the type of laptop best for this, which was cheap and could transfer the data while checking the privacy issues. It was the Boxing Day sales, so he drove off into town and bought the laptop. He then had to drive home just to charge it and the phones. He paused to check on Dilan, who was now in bed, moping.

He drove off again, this time noting that he would have to go to the music concert before coming back. He drove to the Kingston hotel car park and turned the phones back on, this time getting ready to plug them into the laptop. He looked at the recent notifications – more messages from various people. What seemed like a mixture of threats and concerned messages from Abdul. He was able to transfer the message history to the laptop, which itself was completely offline. He got as much data out of both phones, and then turned them off. He drove off, and this time, put both phones in a commercial bin, out of the way of any cameras.

He then made his way to the concert. The concert itself was quite good. Afterwards, he was waved over by a group of friends, which included Nigel, the police officer. They insisted he join them at the pub for a pint. It was worth it; they talked about Christmas, the migrants causing trouble, but nothing about a missing girl. Afterward, Pembroke drove straight home. It was now getting dark again, and he opened up the laptop after ensuring it would remain offline.

He was pleased to have proper access to the photo galleries. He noticed some more nude pictures of Dilan and then perused the messages again. He used Google translate for the messages with “Mohammed.”

The messages indicated a very stormy relationship between them. They painted a story of Dilan and her mother being outcast from the family. Mohammed’s messages had all been friendly at the start and they seemed to have met in Manchester in October. His messages were warm and inviting and there were photographs of Dilan with his children. He learned that Mohammed was her uncle and that the children were her cousins.

The conversations seemed to go darker. Dilan asked questions about her mother. The messages indicated that Dilan blamed her mother’s death on the wider family. Mohammed seemed to be professing his innocence. The friendliness completely broke down after one such exchange in late November. Dilan accused him of being just the other “Barzinis” and that she would never trust anyone from her own family again.

Pembroke thought that this young lady’s life would make a fantastic story. In England alone she had collected enough drama and heartache for a TV show, but her time in Turkey and Syria must have been like war and peace.

Chapter 40

That evening, Pembroke decided to announce his arrival by microphone. “Hello Dilan.” He saw how she perked up from the bed, in shock. He turned the lights off then back on again to symbolise his power and to wake her up. He had left the bedroom door unlocked and consequently allowed her even freer reign to create havoc.

He referenced her earlier breakdown. “You have been quite naughty, and quite emotional Dilan. I am sorry and I will provide you with an avenue for your passions. This will be in the form of reading, or possibly painting, and also in pleasure of a sexual nature which you will soon enjoy. I will provide you with other avenues of diversion; I want your mind to be healthy and happy.”

She remained in bed.

There is freedom in discipline. If you allow your mind to wander, or if you destroy things, or hurt yourself, you will only make yourself more miserable. You must keep your passions disciplined. Now, I am going to come into the basement soon. I will inspect the damage you have done to the room and to yourself. I hope and trust it will not be too severe. I want you to repair and clean as much as you can. I also want you to clean yourself. I want you to be completely clean-shaven, I want you clean inside and out. I want your teeth brushed and hair clean. I want you to be wearing some pretty clothes. You threw everything all around the place, really. Tut, tut, tut.” He watched her on the screen, she was now biting her fingers like a naughty schoolgirl being given a talking down.

“This time I want you to choose your clothes. I do not want to see you in tracksuits or pyjamas I want to see you in something pretty and sexy. Something that will make me want to tear if off you with my teeth. Nod if you understand.”

She nodded meekly.

“Good. Now get to it. After inspection, and a chat and some play, then I will give you something to eat.”

Pembroke remained staring at the screen to see how she would react. Meanwhile, he went online, and ordered some “do it yourself” STD testing kits. He rather enjoyed the tease that the delay was bringing. He would not fuck her tonight, he thought, but he would enjoy himself.

Dilan slowly got up wearing her tracksuit bottoms and baggy top. He watched her clean up and put back the various pieces of equipment she had knocked over to their original positions. She scooped up the clothes and put them back. She left her dirty clothes, including the underwear she had worn since getting here, in its own pile. She made her bed and put her lamp back on. He saw her test it and note it was no longer working. He would have to punish her? But how? He thought. Training a girl was like training a dog, you had to be firm from the off.

Dilan checked the room and he saw her looking at and tracing her fingers along the wall. It must be where she tore her fingernails down it he thought. He watched her go to the toilet, brush her teeth and finally shower. She spent a few minutes searching for the razor; she found it in the corner. He could actually see it well before her, and thought of announcing to her where it was, but decided to leave it.

He watched her shave between her legs and armpits and check the rest of her body for any hairs. He watched her douche and clean up the mess. He then watched, intrigued, to see what clothes she would pick. She went through the drawers originally holding the clothes he had pre bought before her capture. He noted with mild annoyance that she had mixed them up with her own. She tried some bras before putting them back. Obviously they did not fit. She put on her own white bra and a bright purple thong from his collection. ‘Nice choice’ he thought. He would have to get bras that fit her somehow.

She then put on a see through purple negligee and smoothed it on. It still had the label on it. He saw her sniff it and try and check how it looked by looking behind her. There was no mirror on the basement.

“You look stunning Dilan” the microphone blared. Dilan jumped. “Stay like that, I will be down shortly.”

Pembroke took a quick shower and readied himself. He wore a teacher’s outfit of trainers, corduroy trousers and cardigan over shirt. He had a pair of moccasins on and wore tight white briefs underneath. He made his way down. He looked at the screen and saw Dilan standing outside the cage. “Stand back from the cage, Dilan. I want you to kneel on the floor, rest your bum on your ankles and put your hands behind your head. Stay like that until I come to you and tap you on the head.”

He watched her obey then punched the codes to get through the three doors. He smiled brightly at her and tapped her on the head. She remained kneeling.

“Now stand up and give me a kiss” he said. Overcome with lust, he began snogging her. His penis jumped out and he realised he could not control himself. He stepped back and began appraising and running his hands all over her. “Now I want you on the table over here. Hop on”

She jumped on the gyna table.”Now lie back and relax.” He ran his hand all over her. She was like a perfect little doll. If they ever made sex dolls in her image no one would have a reason to leave the house. Other than her recovering wounds her skin was perfect as he rummaged over and under the negligee. He dipped a finger into the thong and inserted it into her. She gasped. He massaged her insides gently.

“Now tell me about how you lost control here earlier. You went crazy you were like a wild cat.” He lifted her hand and looked at her fingers. There was blood around her nails where she had scratched. “I hope this was just you letting it out of your system. I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour going forwards and it’s not good for you either” She nodded and bit her lips to deal with the feeling of the finger rubbing the insides of her vagina.

“Now firstly, there needs to be discipline, you need to be punished when you break the rules. Let’s get that over with first. Then we are going to explore the reason why you broke the rules…”

“Sir,” she whispered… “what are the rules?”

Pembroke chuckled .He realised he had not really set them out. “Obedience” he said. He then realised he had not explicitly told her not to, or to stop, trashing the place. “Your behaviour damaged this place and was a sign of deep disrespect to me.” He cleared his throat. “And it had the potential to damage something I hold very dear, which is you.” He stared down at the softly writhing girl who was looking at him through half closed eyes, her hands now resting on her belly as his finger continued to work its magic.

“From now on you will conduct yourself as a demure young lady down here. You will respect my authority. You will not damage anything. You carry out all my wishes immediately and without question. You will not raise your voice as you did earlier, even if I am not there. In fact I think I am going to propose that you don’t really talk at all unless absolutely necessary.” She remained quiet. “Though I am still in the process of both getting to know you, so you will have to be doing a quite a bit of talking soon. Before that….”

Suddenly he stopped and pulled his finger out of her insides, holding it in the air, then sucking on it while staring at her.

“So sweet. My, I picked a juicy target…” Her hands darted down to her crotch as if to check what had happened. “Now”, he said, “a short, quick punishment. Turn over.”

She hesitated. “Turn over girl, lie on your stomach…” She slowly did so and lay down with her head on the table. “Now put your bum up in the air and get on your elbows, really arch your back and let’s see those cheeks expand, oh yes… ” she got up and spread her legs while bending into doggy style. The purple thong perfectly covered between her cheeks but he loved the feeling of pulling back on the skin of the cheeks. He gradually pulled them wide apart so that he could see the outline of her lips coming into view over the confines of the fabric. He couldn’t resist and drove his face and breathed in. He could lie in this fleshy aroma forever. Enough, he pulled back and rolled up his sleeves.

“Now, I am going to apply some corporal punishment. Do you know that fifty years ago we teachers were allowed to hit young kids in class for misbehaving? Shocking, really. If you had been there then, the teachers would have found an excuse to beat you black and blue.“ Dilan did not respond other than to breathe heavily, she knew what was coming.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Pembroke gave her ten half hearted spanks. With his free hand, he held her, keeping her back down and her bottom up and her hands away from protecting herself.

“There, all done. See, not so bad! God I wish I could have done that as a teacher. What about Lucy Gibbons eh?” He got his breath back. “I bet you wish I could have given her a few spanks on her arse, in front of the whole class? She might have left you alone then…” Dilan held her butt cheeks with both hands. They were bright red. Unlike her injuries from the night of her capture, he was confident they would not leave a mark.

“Right, now let’s get you off the table, and get you hooked up here…” he walked her over to the St Andrews cross. He tied her so that she was spread eagled with her legs spread and her arms stretched above her head. He quickly left the basement without a word and came back with the camera. “Sorry Dilan, you are going to be one of the most photographed girls on the planet soon.” He took several snaps.

He then brought out a little instrument of torture he sorely wanted to try out. A feather duster. He began to lightly rub it against her armpits. It was like a current of electricity had been shot up Dilan’s body. “Ahhh… aha haha… please sir, no … please stop… it tickles too much… aha aha!“

Pembroke laughed out loud as he switched between armpits and occasionally lifted her negligee to tickle her crotch or belly. She had her feet planted on the ground, but he made a mental note to try this tickling on her soles when she was tied down elsewhere.

He waited until her pleading began to turn into plaintive screams. She pulled herself forward then back, down than up, and eventually let out a high pitched scream. Pembroke laughed and took that as his cue to stop. “OK, that’s enough punishment for you I think. Which was harder, the spanking or the tickling”? “The tickling sir,” said Dilan, while catching her breath, her eyes still on the feather duster on his hand, her fists bunched but trapped above her head.

“Interesting. I will note that for next time,” he said. Now,” he drew up a chair and sat in it. He was a meter away from her. “Last night, you talked a little about Abdul. I want you to expand on some things. I have your data from your phones, and I’m looking through it. Some more interesting photos of you!” Dilan started… “Oh, sir, please let me forget about that. It’s not important…”

“It could well be! But need to cover my tracks. You know I met a police officer today, and you are not even missing. It’s been 48 hours! But I want to know the real you and to do that I need to understand what has happened to you and how you feel about it. This is going to be like real therapy. But if you hold back… its Mr Duster time……..” he mimicked the sound of an airplane and brought the feather duster back to her armpits and she began jiggling and jumping in the cross and yelping.

“Wait a while, and think of a starting point. I will be down in a minute. “ laughed Pembroke merrily.

A minute later he had brought the offline laptop and put the table next to the tied up body of Dilan. He opened up a word document and began typing. “I want to know the story of your life. So let’s recap about what we discussed last night…”

This time, Pembroke typed a lot of notes as Dilan went over in more detail her stories about last night relating to Abdul, Fiona, the school kids, the bullying the racist abuse the passing her around like a piece of meat, the old clients, the drugs, the rapes, the blackmailing. She hated going over this but he kept prodding her by reminding her of certain things she had mentioned last night and getting her to expand. He repeatedly asked her how she felt and noted it down.

They discussed Ronald Kelper again. He learned that she had felt sorry for him and that he was a kind man. “Well so far he seems to be in the clear there is nothing about him online other than his stellar career. I would love to see that video, was it in your phone?”

“Yeah,” she said, it’s there somewhere… Abdul sent it across. “

“Wasn’t he worried?”

“About what, he doesn’t give a shit as he is not in the video”

“Now now young lady, language, I can curse but you cannot, remember?”

“Sorry sir.”

“Right, tell me more, I am gonna look through your email attachments here….” Dilan felt like dying of embarrassment as she had to, while tied to the X shaped cross, watch her teacher turned kidnapper go through her personal stuff, while being forced to discuss her attempted sex with Mr Kelper.

“Found it!” exclaimed Pembroke triumphantly. He turned the laptop to face Dilan, and came to stand beside her, his hand moving behind her waist as if to hold her. The video was excruciating and made Pembroke’s blood run cold.

“Poor guy that is fucking awful” he said. He sat back down. It did cross his mind that he could use it to blackmail Kelper himself and Kelper would not have the faintest clue who he was.

After much typing and narration from Dilan, she begged to be allowed to go to the toilet and for something to drink. “Of course, let’s take a break. Can you hold it in for twenty minutes?” She looked at him accusingly. “Can you?” he repeated. “Yes” she said.

Good, so I will leave this laptop here, why don’t you watch it on repeat this video, my goodness that is dark… I’ll go upstairs and fix you a drink and a sandwich and get myself something…” I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”

Dilan suffered for the next twenty minutes, trying to cross her legs in vain despite the bondage, as she battled the urge to piss herself. Meanwhile the video ran on repeat while she watched herself in school uniform with Mr Kelper. Soon, Pembroke was back, he placed the food on the table, slammed the laptop shut, and released Dilan.

“OK girl off you go, let it all out….”

She waddled over to the toilet and did her business “Now, now, remember always wash…” It took a few minutes but she washed, then put her thong back on and walked back to the table.

“OK, sit down and have your dinner.” Dilan felt the eyes of Pembroke on her. She looked up and caught him staring directly at him. Her eyes darted down, then back up, still looking at her. He was smiling. He had total control of her.

After she had eaten she was put back on the St Andrews cross and they went back on the narration of her life since getting to England. Pembroke was wondering if he needed to cast aspersions on someone else for her disappearance. Abdul might be able to track him down if he ever noticed the number plates or if he ever recognised him as the same person who was in the hotel that night and who ‘may’ have taken Dilan’s suitcase. Kelper was another obvious choice and also a good potential source of blackmail money.

“I also went through your conversations with your uncle Mohammed. I don’t know much about the Middle East but your life sounds fascinating. We need to get to the bottom of that too… but for now all I want to know is what happened when you met your uncle in Manchester.”

Dilan explained that not much had happened. They had got on, but she had not wanted to intrude on his family life there. “What about the accusation that he was in on your mother’s death… all that seemed a bit odd?” added Pembroke.

Dilan remained expressionless. “My mom died and my family never bothered about her. I hate them for it and I think my uncle is exactly like them.”

“Well, there is definitely more to be explored about your Syrian life.” He closed the laptop. “But you must be tired after being on that cross for so long. Let’s get you down, and let’s have a little bit of fun now….”

Hours more of “fun” ensued. Dilan enjoyed some of it, the oral sex was amazing, but she longed to be left alone. She wondered why he had not fucked her yet. Fingers, his mouth, but not his penis….

Finally, he ordered her to perform oral sex on him. “I am sure you have done this before.” She performed tentatively, his penis big enough that it took up most of the width of her mouth. He enjoyed looking down at her open eyes and gagging sounds though realised she would need plenty more practice. Eventually, he pulled his penis out of her mouth and masturbated into her face. He scraped the cum off her face and fed it into her mouth.

“OK, I’m off to bed babe, I’ll see you tomorrow…” She returned to bed, she had no idea if it was morning or night; she lay in bed, without her negligee, and wondered what the future would bring.

Chapter 41

Dilan and Yasmin lay in bed together giggling at things the other girls had said at recent meeting between Teta and the other occupants of the top floor brothel. Dilan never told Yasmin about the things Teta had been doing to her, but did mention the oddities of the clients who visited the other girls and their complaints. She hid from her mother that she was at times getting pleasure from Teta but otherwise told her stories about the johns and their weird ways. They shared stories about the poor Iraqi girl with the burn marks on her neck, and how she had accidentally shat and pissed on one of her clients. The mother and daughter rolled in laughter naked together at the story.

Yasmin told her how she always had to be assertive with clients and that today she had been asked to lick the asshole of a disgusting man. She had refused and told him he should learn to lick it himself. They both laughed more. Dilan had gotten her bumhole licked by Teta, and did not want to tell her mother so coyly asked if anyone had done it to her. “Many times darling, I love it… even your dad did it once!” Dilan sniggered. “Mommy, I can do it to you if you like…”

“Dilan” her mother rolled her eyes… “this is going too far…” “Please mommy, I know you are clean and I’ve seen your bumhole so many times I know you clean it… if your clients can lick it and daddy licked it I can …”

Her mother covered her eyes in exasperation. Her daughter was lying on top of her like a lover. She was unclear about how this sexualising of their relationship had happened but it seemed disturbingly natural now. They were both confident they would get out of this brothel at some point and would have to revert to a normal mother-daughter relationship… in the meantime….

“OK darling if you insist, she smiled, and got up on her knees and elbows, while Dilan went to her backside. She looked at the winking anus and ran her finger across it. “Let me know if you like it mommy” she whispered, as she began lapping her tongue across her mother’s bumhole. After an age, Dilan leant back and giggled… her mother turned around to face her daughter and licked her lips.. “ok honey, my turn, bend over and let me lick you….”

Winter came to Raqqa. Business was incredibly good. Madam Teta was making money…too much money. She was attracting too much attention. The business was tolerated because of the protection money and because the women were all “fallen women”

Dilan and her mother had originally feared they would never leave the brothel but now worried they might have to leave. They had grown so close and not just in sexual terms that they were happy with their life. Dilan was learning about the world in relative safety and her mother was gradually emerging from the cloud of PTSD and now thinking how she and Dilan would survive and live in the outside world.

“Darling in here we do what we have to do… I have had sex with so many men for you, my darling… you are still a virgin and that is my biggest achievement…” they both hugged on the bed, naked after yet another sexual encounter, before Dilan was due to get changed to go on hostessing duties. The scent of male cum was in her mother’s mouth as they kissed.”Mommy that is gross, you have been drinking cum” her mother apologised and they both laughed.

“In the outside world, we have to forget this. I don’t regret it, do you? But we have to leave it here when we leave, ok?” her mother looked into Dilan’s eyes. “Yes mommy, I know. But don’t worry at least we are not like those horrible people outside. All the men you fucked, they all complain about women having sex and stuff, and then they do this …”

“It is a man’s world, Dilan, always remember that… if your father was still alive our lives would be very different. We are women, we survive.” They looked at each other, Dilan forgot her aversion to the taste of cum, and kissed her mother dearly.

The doorlock turned quietly and the door was flung open. Madame Teta appeared in the doorway and was stunned to see Dilan and her mother break apart from a kiss. A tell tale trail of saliva was left hanging in the air for several seconds between each pair of lips before drooping down. Both were naked as the day they were born. Madam Teta laughed.

“Hahaha just as I thought! You dirty whore” she wagged her finger good humouredly at Yasmin. “Oh don’t worry I don’t blame you, your daughter is beautiful and you have all these ugly men to deal with, as I said…” she approached Dilan and stroked her hair “I would do the same if I was in your position”

“It is not like that, we are naked all the time together, it’ you who put us like this!”

“I kept offering to take her away and put you in separate rooms like normal mothers and daughters, and you keep insisting on sleeping together…” Madam Teta raised an eyebrow and cheekily tapped her nose. “Don’t worry; this is not a house of moral standards. But still, Mrs Barzini you are being very greedy keeping her to yourself.”

Unbeknown to them, Madam Teta had been watching and listening through the keyhole for several days hoping to catch them in the act like this.

“Listen, I can keep your little secret and keep you together. But you know, there are people in this town who would, if not kill you ,then keep you apart, even if they have no problem coming here and fucking you both.”

Both the naked women dreaded hearing what was coming.

“I just need a favour. Dilan does not have to lose her virginity. I just need you, Mrs Barzini, to work with her to please a very important client of mine. Very important. He is a chief of police, if he finds out there is a mother and daughter doing disgraceful stuff to each other he will have to arrest you both and me. But, if he just accepts this is a dirty whorehouse for the dregs of society, and gets a little treat from a mother and daughter in bed, it will sate his lust for law enforcement.”

“Have you been spying on us?” Yasmin asked suddenly.

“You are here 24/7, so am I, and I’m not blind, it’s not that hard to spy on you” said Madam Teta. “Look, how about we agree you can both leave in the new year after you just make me some more money. I hate to let you go you are a great worker, but fair is fai… Just do a few things for me?”

“Dilan is a virgin”

“With men, yes” smiled Teta, “but we both know she now can play around.” Yasmin looked at Dilan and at Teta suspiciously. “The deal will be, he fucks you, in your pussy and your ass, but leaves Dilan a virgin. You just have to play with each other for him, interact with him… you surely know this right? Do I need to show you a video?”

“No I think I know,” sighed Yasmin.

“Have a think about it, it won’t be here, it will be in a hotel across the street” said Teta, nicer and we will get you both dressed for it imagine that!”

Chapter 42

It was December 27th, two days after Christmas. Pembroke woke up and immediately went to the computer to view Dilan. She was lying in bed, reading. He smiled. He went through the internet and ordered books for her. He wanted philosophy and psychology books. He preferred to get her to look inwardly as it was not going to be particularly useful for her to learn outward skills.

“Good morning Dilan. I will bring breakfast down soon. Please make sure you are ready for me. You do not need to change clothes, I like that purple thong.”

He checked, and saw that she instinctively looked under the covers to check her underwear. She was not wearing her negligee any more. She got up and went to the toilet, washed herself and put her underwear back on after smelling them.

Pembroke emerged into the basement with breakfast. “How do you feel Dilan?” “I feel OK sir.” She munched on the breakfast while Pembroke inspected the basement. He intended to make cleaning the basement part of her duties.

“Now, Dilan, it is important to teach you your duties here. I am going to give you an ample amount of free time, free food, and in return, you’re going to do some tasks for me.” Dilan remained impassive. “This is going to be a game, called ‘Simon Says’; have you heard of it?” She shook her head.

“Hmm, right, well, it’s simple really. If I say ‘Simon says touch your head,’ you touch your head. Simon says touch your toes, touch your toes. You obey Simon. But if I say – touch your head, then you don’t.” “Sorry, sir, I don’t understand…” “What I mean is…”

Pembroke spent the next few minutes explaining the game, he could not help but think his explanations were somewhat making a fool of himself. “OK let the game begin!” He sat in the chair with dressing gown falling open to display he had nothing on underneath at all. Dilan was a little put off to say the least.

“Simon says, touch your head! Simon says put your right hand on your belly button. Simon says put your left hand on your right knee. Simon says touch your right ear with your left hand! Simon says turn around and put your right hand on your left buttcheek! Simon says …” STOP — did I tell you to turn back around?”

“Sorry sir,” breathed Dilan… “I think I get it now…”

“That was a test run but next mistake you are going to be punished! What fun eh! Next mistake will be a spanking across my knee, what do you think of that eh?”

Dilan wondered what king of sick person this man really was. Then again, maybe all men were like this. She told herself to be patient. Something would happen and she would be free from here.

“I will do better next time sir.”

“Good girl, now Simon says hands on hips, Simon says take your bra off, hehe Simon says stick your little finger on your right hand up your left nostril, oh wrong way around haha…! Now come over my knee…” he slapped his knee.

Dilan made his way over to him, she was unsure how he wanted her, she turned to the side and slid her hips across his knee and leaned forward and placed her hands on the ground. She felt his hands knead her buttocks, followed by a few light slaps. A few “oh!”s were all that escaped from her mouth.

“Back up! Come on, we start again. OK, Simon says stand on your toes, Simon says do downward facing dog… you know what this is? Oh well, never mind. Simon says do a star jump. Didn’t you do any PE? Ok Simon says squat down, Simon says pull your mouth apart with your fingers like this, Simon says stick out your tongue, Simon says blink three times, Simon says turn around and stick your bum out, Simon says slap your bum with both hands, Simon says jump up and down three times, now turn around… wayyy, I didn’t say Simon says..!!” come over baby, over my knee again, haha!”

Dilan could handle the sex but this game was starting to freak her out. She bent over his knee again and took a light spanking. Continuing to play the game for another twenty minutes in nothing but her thong, she gradually became covered in a sheen of sweat. Eventually he said “Simon says suck my cock, come on baby, Simon says crawl over here and suck me off…”

Dilan hesitated, then got down on all fours and crawled over to him. She was transfixed by the standing penis sprouting from his grey pubic hair and his open dressing gown. She began gobbling on it while Pembroke enjoyed her tongue. He made a mental note to bring an armchair down here. He stopped talking and instead played with her hair while she kept going. Eventually she stopped and asked “Sir, do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes, listen you keep doing it till I say otherwise” he threatened. “I’m tired” “He gripped her by the hair. “Listen, you are not tired you have just gotten up out of bed, you are going to learn to suck my cock for hours, that’s why you’re down here, now keep going and don’t stop. Next time you stop I’ll give you a spanking and not a play spanking like the one I have you before.”

Dilan kept going, she wasn’t particularly skilled at oral sex with a man and he wondered how he would be able to teach her. He enjoyed it but was never going to cum in her mouth. “All right let’s move to your bedroom, come on”

He led her by the hand, and lay on her bed, and pulled back the covers. “Right, I want you, to put your knees either side of my face, and lean forward and stat sucking on my cock, understand?” Dilan gingerly put her knee on the near side and let him guide her other knee to the other side of his head. She was so much shorter than he, that she then had to lie forwards to reach his penis and began sucking on it. Pembroke was able to lie back and enjoy the sight of her crotch in his face, still clothed in the purple nylon thong. He played with the edges of the fabric before rubbing his finger up and down, leaning forward and kissing her vulva. He felt he could look at her smell her in this position for hours while feeling his helmet being bathed by her tongue. “Now lick my balls, babe…” he ordered. He felt the hesitation as she moved her crotch off his face to reach her mouth further down so she could lap at his testicles. “That is really, really good…” he moaned.

Dilan worried about how long he could go on for. He was in a very comfortable position whereas she was on her hands and knees leaning her head downward staring at his hairy bumhole and testicles licking away. Eventually… she said “please sir, I’m tired can we try a break?”

“Five minutes more… then you can have a break you’ve earned it…” he sighed. Dilan battled on, until six minutes later, he slapped her bum “right, off with you and stand up. Christ, that felt amazing. That is something you are going to have to get used to doing, my god…”

Dilan was grateful for air and to stand up straight. Pembroke told her to lie down, and took off her thong. He pushed her legs up to her breasts and her ankles were over her ears. He began to passionately kiss her vagina and bumhole and gripped her buttocks hard, digging his nails in. “Allah…” he heard her say “oh god” in Arabic and smiled to himself. He was going to make sure she would cum whether she wanted it or not.

Her legs splayed and shook and one foot banged against the wall. After continuing long after he was sure she had come, he relented. He wiped his mouth as he looked at her, her hands over her crotch and her eyes closed, her chest rising falling.

“Now, there is more… I am going to lie on my stomach, and I want you to lick my balls, up to my arsehole, do you understand?”

Dilan froze… the thought made her want to throw up. She had licked her own mother like this, but Mr Pembroke looked awful. “I’ve shaved my ass and balls, just for you!” he grinned “and showered, now come on.” He lay down and spread his legs. It felt so unnatural to a girl like Dilan to see a large powerful man in this position; seemingly so submissive, yet demanding of her.

“Please, sir, I can’t do this.. .I … I can do other things, I … I… “ Pembroke sighed. “Very well, lie on the bed.” She thought they were doing something else, so lay down. “Hands by your side.” She obliged. Pembroke suddenly leaned over her as she had with him earlier and made to sit on her face. The erotic difference between a young girl baring her rear end into an older man’s face is vastly different to the reverse. She screamed as he lowered himself onto her. “Now, you lick” and he sat himself down until he felt her hot breath on his anus and his balls rested against her chin. “Lick” he repeated. He twisted her nipples and batted back her hands until he felt the sweet touch of her tongue. “That’s good, now keep going. You’ll stop when I say.”

Pembroke had dreamt of this. Prostitutes would suck a client’s cock but they would never perform annilingus. This was going to be Dilan’s speciality from now on. She would do this while performing oral sex on him.

Dilan was learning that pain and physical intimidation could bring a girl to do anything. She closed her eyes tight as she worked her tongue. Any slow-down was met with a squeeze and twist of her body elsewhere. His huge butt cheeks enveloped her face and she could just see up his crack to the back of his head.

“You’re doing well Dilan… you just have to learn to enjoy it… because this is what you were born to do…”

Chapter 43

Dilan and her mother dressed in Teta’s room. Teta commented on their figures, and picked out some lingerie from the factory for them both. She had some stockings specially made for Dilan. Teta herself applied make to both of them. “You both look stunning… you ladies do me proud and we can make a lot of money. This time, I promise you will get a cut of these when I let you go. Now, Amir will escort you to the hotel. He will be waiting at the hotel all night and to the morning for you.”

Dilan and her mother dressed in abayas and coats over their lingerie in view of the freezing Raqqa morning as they walked with Amir, looking like a couple and daughter. At the hotel, they were taken up a suite. Amir became meek in the face of some bodyguards with AK-47s who let the women in and kept Amir out.

Inside, the women met a man who greeting them with a grin, and a bottle of whiskey. He was tall, handsome, with silver moustache and hair. He gestured for them to sit on the chairs and make themselves at home.

Dilan gradually got drunk. She watched her mother, who just a few years ago had only ever slept with her husband, take the lead and flirt with the man, join Dilan into the proceedings, and start to dance seductively. She took Dilan in her arms, and the two swayed together to the Arabic music across the room, while the man watched, drinking and smoking. Dilan liked the man, he was unlike any of the men who came to the brothel and unlike most of the men she had met, except for some of the cheerful tourists in Antalya. Little did they know that he was a high ranking general in the Syrian army and had indulged in torture and mass killings.

Yasmin began to kiss her daughter and the erotic display sent the general into a spiral “To the bedroom my darlings!“ he cried excitedly. Wwith the aid of drugs they stayed up all night. Dilan and Yasmin indulged in every kind of debauchery. They sixty nined together on the bed while the General watched. He could not believe they were a real mother and daughter but enjoyed them none the less. Yasmin gently stopped him penetrating Dilan with his penis though she did allow him to go down on her daughter, though Dilan performed oral sex on him. Yasmin on the other hand, did anal and vaginal sex with the general and made him cum five times during the night. The general took his penis out of Yasmin’s bumhole and was amazed when the ‘daughter’ gleefully sucked on his still rock hard manhood straight out.

The following morning, he woke up beside the two beautiful young ladies and sent them on their way with some flowers. He then had to leave directly back to his headquarters. It was well worth it to him for the danger of his visit and the other business he had to take care of. He looked forward to getting back to his wife and six children but made a mental note to see this two girls again when he returned.

Amir let the mother keep the flowers and they looked like a couple again when they walked back to the brothel. As they strolled along in their abayays, no one could tell they were drenched in cum, sweat, clad in their lingerie and on their way back from a meeting with a general who had taken charge of a battle in the city just a few years earlier.

On their return Teta was delighted. She told them she would switch their room to a bigger room, and let them keep a double bed for reasons none of the three spelled out. Yasmin asked when they would be released from their bond. Teta claimed that in the new year they would have paid it back but she would thereafter pay them some money to save for a trip to Europe. Yasmin and Dilan agreed to have modelling shots and were marketed as a high value couple. Teta also allowed them to smoke cannabis in their room, which her mother had grown to love. She urged Dilan to stay away from it however.

The photoshoot was taken after both had smoked some cannabis to prepare them, however. Teta watched and marvelled how she had managed to mould them. She had trained numerous mothers and daughters like over the years. They never realised it but the mixture of drugs, sex, close proximity and stress had created plenty of marketable mother-daughter pairs which had made her a lot of money.

Chapter 44

Following the morning’s marathon sex session, Pembroke left an exhausted Dilan to rest and gave her instructions to clean the floor with a brush in view of the detritus that had collected in it both during her imprisonment and during the assembly of the dungeon. After returning upstairs, he made himself a coffee, and resolved to finally clean his rental car. He was shocked to discover that three pairs of panties were on the floor of the back seat which he had missed. “Age 12-14 girls’ knickers” on the label would have been a disaster had he been stopped, given anyone a lift or returned the rental car. He threw them in the bin, hoovered the car, and drove it back to the rental agency, stopping at a car wash on the way.

He felt a pang of regret, the last few weeks prowling around in his car had been the most adventurous period of his life, and he would always remember the thrill of knocking Dilan into it. There were now no loose ends that he knew of. He got the train back to Willowbridge, and strolled home from the station. Upon getting home, he downloaded a movie as well as some porn into his o laptop, made some dinner, and brought it down to the basement. He scolded Dilan for having kept wearing her purple thong and told her of the importance of keeping her vagina clean. Lord knows she had enough underwear. She had told him that she was worried she did not have permission to change clothes. At this, Pembroke felt satisfied that she was genuinely timid and would make a great slave to mould.

After dinner, they watched porn, including videos of old men and young girls including the specific category of the girls rimming the men. It was important that she got comfortable with this. They also watched some videos of girls of Dilan’s age performing sex acts, which was never as good as the professional porn, but again served to impress on Dilan that sex and porn was natural. Dilan grew shy when he brought up some videos and pictures on the laptop of Dilan, though Pembroke gently teased her enough to keep watching them. Dilan was self conscious about her small breasts.

More photos and videos were taken of Dilan. Pembroke assured her that he had no interest in sharing them for the time being. “Now Dilan, I want you to dance seductively, use your fingers in your pussy, and lick them afterwards, like in that movie. Don’t be shy.”

Dilan was extremely shy however, and while this made the home video more realistic considering it was of a thirteen year old kidnap victim, Pembroke grew somewhat frustrated. “Come on. Dance like no one is watching. If you don’t put some energy into this and come out of yourself, I will give you a beating to motivate you. Now come on! Smile, and mean it, and get that pussy nice and wet!”

Dilan improved slightly, writhing and dancing like in her favourite pop videos, and pouting for the camera. She thought of the perverts who would masturbate over this, maybe even the boys and girls in her class who would be free above ground while she was stuck in here.

“This video will be our little secret for now.” It was as if Pembroke heard her thoughts. “I am not going to put it online anywhere… yet. It is in my interest that the world thinks you are dead. In years to come, everyone will think you are gone or dead or just forget about you. But you will live on down here through the videos and photos!“ Dilan felt despondent. She had a tough life already but had always thought there would be a pay off. Was this all there was, after the struggle she had to get here? A life of sex slavery in a dungeon to an ugly fat pervert? To be remembered as a helpless piece of meat men would masturbate over on the their laptops before going on their day?

Later that same evening, he brought some wine. He brought the laptop back out and began typing her story of her life in Syria and Turkey and her family history. He made her go over every detail and was very good at spotting discrepancies, teasing out further details and drawing out details.

He felt sorry for Dilan yet also incredibly horny after hearing of her mother’s sex life. It took a lot of wine and a lot of prodding, but he was thrilled to hear about life in the brothel in Raqqa. He was able to fill in some details by looking through her belongings and notebooks and getting internet access to find out about Raqqa, Antalya and Kobani and the refugee camps. He wished he could have her and her mother down in the basement together but knew that this would have been a nightmare and that he mother would never have been as mouldable and physically much stronger.

Chapter 45

Dilan continued to work as a hostess at the brothel while her mother saw clients and once a week they would see someone overnight together as a couple. Yasmin agreed for Dilan to see Teta in her bedroom and accepted that she would have sex with Dilan. Yasmin would rather Teta have non penetrative lesbian sex with her daughter, than any of the now hundreds of men she had sex with.

Teta’s female family members were not involved in the sex trade in any way, except by way of the lingerie factory. She could see Dilan and her mother becoming managers eventually. However, she knew their environment was temporary. Going by previous examples, when the two returned to normal life, the experience would probably destroy their relationship. Incestuous sex felt natural in these circumstances but if they were to end up in the UK or anywhere else, the chances were that Dilan would never want to see her mother again once she grew up.

One week, the mother and daughter duo were sent to a large nondescript house in outer Raqqa. The man who greeted them had a Saudi accent. The encounter went as normal, drugs and alcohol ensured both Dilan and Yasmin gave the man the time of his life and enjoyed each other’s bodies as well.

The man was a hopelessly drug addicted member of the Saudi royal family, he was easy to please and had passed out by 1am.Dilan and Yasmin passed the rest of the night, first by finishing each other off, and then by searching the suite to look for anything interesting. They found more drugs, and a black bag under his bed, and upon closer inspection, they noticed with shock that there was a hundred thousand dollars in cash there.

“Mommy… what should we do… this money we could get to Europe or England with this…” Dilan whispered to Yasmin. “This guy is a waster he has so much money… let’s see what we can do…” whispered Yasmin back to her. “I know, let’s take some and hide it…” They took rolls of dollars, and started inserting them into each others’ anuses and vaginas; Yasmin estimated they had twenty thousand dollars stuck up both their asses before they could both not walk properly nor keep the bills from sticking out of their orifices. When the man awoke the next morning, Dilan and Yasmin remained naked, and Yasmin expertly brought him off with her mouth. Now completely done, the Saudi checked them out, both were naked, and he watched them change into simple thongs and bras in front of him. He brought them their coats from outside, and their abayas, and it was apparent to him that they had no opportunity to hide any money or belongings in their persons.

Amir walked them back. Sobering up, they both realised it was insane that he had not checked all the money was there despite having checked them hadn’t taken anything. Amir did not give them any opportunity to get away, and Teta kept talking to them for half an hour before they could get to their little bedsit. Behind locked doors they pulled out the money, which was clean as they had cleaned themselves well. They counted just fewer than twenty thousand dollars.

“Fuck, what have we done?.. Dilan we have to get out of here, they will suspect us…” Ironically for the first time in nearly six months, they actually wanted to escape and found they could not. Despite their apparent lack of desire of escaping, Teta still had a ring of iron around them.

The next morning, they pleaded with Teta to be allowed out to get some clothes, but could not convince Teta why when whatever they needed could be brought to them. Teta became suspicious and wanted to know why they suddenly wanted to get out.

“Teta… can we buy ourselves out?” asked Yasmin. “With what money” laughed Teta, you have nothing and anything you think you have is mine already.”

“Our family has money, they can give you the money and we can leave…how much do you want?”

“Ten thousand dollars” responded Teta, crossing her arms. She did not believe her, her family had sold them to her in the first place. Yasmin silently cheered “Yes we can raise that, just let us out to arrange it.”

“Well Dilan stays here, in fact she will sleep in my room for all the time you are away…” warned Teta.

“I agree” said Yasmin, squeezing her daughter’s hand.

Teta was sorely disappointed. Yasmin left and for the first time in months found herself wandering around by herself in the city of Raqqa. She did not actually need to see anyone and only needed to pass the time. She made sure no one was following her, and bought a ticket for a bus to Damascus leaving later that day. She then returned to the brothel. Madam Teta appeared, with Dilan behind her.

The money was handed over, and Madam Teta hugged both Dilan and Yasmin. Both the latter were weary that this was too easy… but they were allowed to leave, with their belongings, and were able to walk to the bus station, board and travel to Damascus. Hidden among the belongings were the remnants of the remaining ten thousand dollars. Dilan could only believe that maybe God existed, the fact that the Saudi either never missed it or never suspected or came after them seemed a miracle. Teta, sighed, the money was welcome, but she would miss the lovely Dilan and her money making mother, but knew that her time would soon be up in this business in Raqqa and that this brothel would soon cease to exist anyway.

Before long they were in Damascus, were they pleaded poverty and lived in a cheap hotel while searching for a way out of the country and back to Turkey and on to Greece. It seemed strange to be in such a normal environment after months steeped in sex and though the two slept together, cuddled and laughed together, they did not have sex and they both stopped mentioning that they ever had.

After a few weeks, her mother contacted a “reputable” trafficker who could take them across the Iraqi then Turkish border. For two young women the voyage was hazardous and on the various mini buses Dilan’s mother had to resist various advances. The drive into the Iraqi desert was hot and uncomfortable even in the early spring. Sleeping among 12 other single men meant the two had to go to the toilet together and stay together constantly. They were in constant fear that they would be robbed or sold into sexual slavery in Iraq.

Eventually, their driver announced, to a cheer, that they were now in Turkey. They were nearing the city of Silopi from where they hoped to get a “proper” bus to Istanbul. Just outside the city, the mini bus was stopped by a checkpoint of armed police.

Dilan and Yasmin were pulled out and told to stand by one side. They needed their money to get to Europe, they did not want to have to live on prostitution in Turkey or they might as well have stayed in Raqqa. They were brought into a windowless room and asked about why they were in Turkey. Both Dilan and Yasmin could speak Turkish well and Kurdish fluently. They tried to lie and say they were Kurdish and Turkish citizens and were returning from staying with relatives in Iraq. It soon became apparent that the guards were after something when they offered sweets to Dilan and asked her mother if she needed the bathroom/shower to “freshen up” while they reviewed their superior’s orders. They had both claimed to have no documents and the guards were fairly sure they were illegal immigrants from Syria or Iraq.

Yasmin returned, and asked them if her daughter could wait outside. After Dilan had left, Yasmin offered to have sex with each and every one of the guards if they let her pass through. She was aware they could still search her things and find the money, which had been hidden in their vaginas and anuses during the journey. In freshening up, Dilan’s mother had taken the money out, and simply put it in her pockets. Though as these had already been searched, no one bothered to look through her clothes as she discarded them on the floor of the inspection room. She was also aware that they could deport her still or imprison her. She figured that if they held on to the money they could just try again, this time from Iraq.

The guards clapped and jeered as she stripped to her underwear. “Come on boys, let us get this over with, you get your fun and we get through OK?” The guards flipped coins as to the order they went in. The first was the shyest and was actually a virgin. Yasmin was quickly aware of this, and worked him so well that the young man never forgot the memory of losing his virginity to the beautiful and mysterious refugee. The others soon followed, some more rough than others. At the end she put her clothes back, taking extra care that none of the money fell from her pockets.

The guards let her and Dilan go, and the young guard whose virginity had been taken drove them to the bus station and charitably bought them lunch before returning to his post. Buying bus tickets to get on the labyrinth road to Istanbul was tortuous and the journey, even on an air conditioned bus, was long and uncomfortable.

It took a week of sleeping on buses, sleeping on sidewalks to avoid police and ID checks on hotels, before they arrived in Istanbul. The city was huge; it dwarfed Antalya, Kobani, Sitapi, Raqqa, even Damascus.

The weather was perfect, and Yasmin and Dilan spent a week staying in a hostel and sightseeing. The Hagia Sophia stunned the two, and the sights of thousands of women without hijabs, not just Western tourists, were also something they had only seen on TV. However, money was dwindling fast. They learned that if they got to Greece, they might be sent back or end up in a camp like in southern Turkey. In desperation, they got in contact with Mohammed in Manchester. He was surprised to hear from Yasmin, Dilan’s mother, and condemned his family’s behaviour. They discussed how they could get to the UK. Mohammed felt a duty to young Dilan but less so towards her mother. Mohammed had a plan; he could post a British passport of his oldest daughter who looked just like Dilan. He could not access any for Yasmin that looked like her. He asked for a thousand pounds and said he would look after Dilan until her mother could make the journey.

Dilan and her mother thought of the suggestion. It was the easiest and safest route for Dilan. With the rest of the money, Yasmin could get a small boat to Greece and hopefully make her way from there, though they might be separated for months or years. However, neither of them trusted Mohammed. After some research and discussion on internet forums and with fellow refugees in Istanbul, they decided to tweak Dilan’s plan. When the passport arrived, she would use it to board the flight, then destroy the passport on the flight and claim asylum on arrival in the UK. As a female minor, she would get put up and would not have to stay with her uncle Mohammed. Her uncle would be furious at the lost passport, which only made both of them laugh.

The passport arrived; the photo was of a young, dark girl with long black hair. Dilan’s hair was slightly lighter and wavy. Other than that, they looked identical. The flight was booked, and the two journeyed together to Sultan Ahmet airport. Neither of them had been in an airport before. Dilan, her hair dyed black and straightened, had memorized her cousin’s details. She felt like a spy. Yasmin was tearful at the goodbye and worried about leaving her daughter. However, both had a romanticized version of the UK. She was sure that they would look after her daughter until she could come live with her. The UK was a civilized country, unlike Turkey or Syria.

“Mommy, I’ll call you as soon as I can… I can’t wait to see you again in England. Just imagine; we will soon be in London…” Dilan reminded Yasmin of the TV series, the funeral of Queen Elizabeth, and the movies they had watched, dreaming of life in the UK.

Yasmin broke down his tears as she saw her daughter disappear through security. Suddenly she was all alone. She did not leave the airport for hours until she heard from Dilan on her phone. She had landed at Heathrow, and the passport had been ripped up and most the pieces she had slipped into an old ladies travel bag. She had claimed asylum as a child refugee from Syria, telling her story of being trafficked as a child sex slave. Yasmin did not get the bus back to Istanbul until she heard confirmation Dilan had been allocated accommodation in a local youth home.

Yasmin felt a load released off her shoulders. She was confident her daughter was now safe among the civilised English. She checked her finances, they were running low. She spoke with Mohammed and explained what had happened. He was furious.

“You fucking slut. I could get thrown out of the country for this, you know how much money it takes to replace a passport? You don’t want Dilan to grow up in a decent home do you. She is in care, do you know what means in this country? She’s gonna grow up to be just like you…”

“Fuck you and your family, me and my daughter never want to have anything to do with any of you. You tried to kill us back home, you didn’t support us until you needed us. My husband hated all of you. For all I know, it was you lot who killed him. He was the only decent one among you. You dare call me a slut after what you tried with me? If Dilan stayed with you she would be in far more danger than among the English..”

Yasmin resolved to get to England, live like an English woman and forget all about her background and culture. First she needed to get to Dilan. Without her daughter, Yasmin felt more comfortable taking a risk on a boat to Greece.

Dilan’s initial excitement of her journey to England slowly disappeared after initial confinement in a youth home with sullen people her own age, some with tattoos on their faces, who were drunk or drugged all the time, and who were violent very easily. This was a shock to her. Then a few weeks later, she had her final conversation with her mother. Yasmin was about to get on a dinghy to Greece, though she called it a boat to Dilan.

“I love you Dilan, there won’t be reception on the sea, but I can call again when I am in Greece. It’s harder for me but I’m your mom so I’m tough. I’ll make my way to you eventually. Stay strong for me.”

“I love you mommy. Stay dry!” Dilan said. She would later wince that these were her last words to her mother. She had meant to joke to calm her nerves. She remembered her mother going into the sea for the first time in Antalya as an adult woman and being terrified of the water.

Dilan never got a phone call. Any calls to her mother’s phone went straight to voicemail. Her messages were not being delivered. She did not have details of the boat, anyone on it, and needless to say nothing was ever reported that day. Her mother had just disappeared.

Dilan’s world had fallen apart. Alone in a strange land with no one to protect her, she spent hours by herself in her room, staring at the ceiling and looking at photos of her mom from her phone and among their belonging from the green suitcase they had bought in the Istanbul markets prior to the flight. Her social workers grew concerned and sympathetic although they were overwhelmed by numbers. Eventually, in early August 2023, she was moved to the small town of Willowbridge with other migrants. She was put up in a hotel and allocated a foster carer, Fiona Monaghan.

Gradually, her mood improved. She liked some of the boys at the hotel, Fiona was permissive and friendly, and when she was given the school uniform of Willowbridge High School and looked at herself in the mirror, it reminded her of Harry Potter. At the talk given by the school teachers, including by Mr Pembroke, she tried to remember her mother’s words of encouragement, and believed this could be the start of a better life.

Chapter 46

It took a few days for Pembroke to take down notes from Dilan’s story of her childhood until she got to Willowbridge. Copious wine, keeping her awake and much prodding had extracted all the juicy details. The reminisces about her sex life with her mother in the Raqqa brothel had sent blood rushing to his penis but he listened respectfully. Dilan really loved her mother and he realised that in this place, there was no reason for her to feel ashamed. Perhaps she was frightened she would forget and wanted the details written down.

The story was a much more sombre than her time in the UK. Pembroke had not had sex with her in the last 48 hours and had allowed to put on more modest pyjama shorts and t shirt during her narration.

“Well your journey is over for now, Dilan. From what you said, your madam Teta sounded rather like … me. You don’t sound like you disliked her did you? And she kept you prisoner?”

“No sir, I think we were safe when we were with her but we couldn’t have lived like that forever, we did always want to be free…”

“Did you really? People tell us we have to be free but most of us don’t really want that. They want to be told what to do, they want to feel safe. You are safe with me, and after everything we have done together, there will be no surprises going forwards…”

Inwardly Dilan wondered if she could accept this life. She had gotten over the vomit inducing revulsion she had initially felt towards Pembroke and could now almost bear him physically, and being on her own for 20 hours a day did not feel so bad. She worried about the future however.

Pembroke felt sorry for her mother now, in a way he had not for Kelper or Abdul or even Dilan herself. He felt like was letting the side down after they had trusted the UK so much, that he, a proud Englishman had just gone and kidnapped her daughter.

Chapter 47

1st January

During the last few days, Pembroke had been able to test Dilan for various STDs with DIY tests. The scariest one was the HIV test. A thumb prick and a test result within two minutes, which felt too easy given the life altering possibilities. In the end, Dilan passed all the tests with flying colours. She had begun taking her oral contraceptives now, and so Pembroke began preparing to take her “virginity”. He groomed himself as best he could. He picked out a little red dress and red underwear with little black shoes. They had come from China, and he was a little disappointed with the effect. The dress was not as tight as he hoped and was actually quite long. But otherwise she had done her hair in his presence, with some make up, and they had a “date” of a simple meal of fish and beetroot. Pembroke had chosen the foods for their sexual imagery which he had read somewhere.

Dilan was quiet and respectful as she had been for the last few days. She knew this was coming, and was resigned to it. She did not want to say that Pembroke’s penis didn’t particularly frighten her as it was far from the biggest she had dealt with in her young life. Abdul’s had been over eight inches and had actually hurt much of the time. For Dilan, this was just another notch on her way to an uncertain future. Although she wanted out, part of her wanted to just fast forward her childhood. She still imagined she would spend her childhood here and at eighteen she could come out and live free as an adult.

Pembroke made love as romantically as he thought possible after relieving Dilan of every item of clothing. Cuddling for half an hour eventually made him hard again and this time he felt in a rougher friend of mind as he took her anally from behind. This time Dilan screamed. “Bite the pillow” he ordered, as he spanked her as hard as he could, the animal from within coming out. Looking down at the little perfectly formed package of flesh and bones, he thanked providence for giving him absolute power over this living thing and congratulated himself on getting something all men wanted but none had the balls to go out and get.

Chapter 48

January 3rd. After what seemed an age, it was Pembroke’s first day back at school. The last time had sat in the classroom, his dream of having a teenage prisoner was just that, and his basement had been a fantasy project. Dilan had been underground since then, without any sign of being missed or being search for.

After a few days, it began to be commented on by pupils and other teachers that Dilan had not come back after term. Yet there did not seem to be much concern. She had done this before and it seemed that with the migrant kids they were prepared to tolerate a few weeks off here and there.

Fiona Monaghan had not heard from Dilan for over a week now and was growing worried, but not for Dilan. She had quit fostering but was being interviewed about the kids in her care, and was being asked about Dilan’s whereabouts. Her comments about Dilan having disappeared before to Manchester to see her family seemed to be taken at face value, but if she never resurfaced, it might reflect badly on her.

Abdul missed Dilan, and had been furious with her for tricking him into stealing back her belongings. He had assumed that someone, either that man in the blue raincoat or someone else, had helped her. He had looked official and Abdul was too worried to report it to police. He had committed many illegal things with and without Dilan. He had to assume that Dilan had disappeared because she wanted rid of him and just accepted that.

Dilan had few female friends and a few had grown concerned that she had stopped returning messages. However the news that she had since “robbed” Abdul and left him angry, led people to believe that she was escaping an abusive boyfriend and wanted a fresh start. Few knew her well enough to want to disturb her by tracking her down.

Her uncle Mohammed had messaged her merry Christmas and had since seen she had read the message but had not responded. He had liked Dilan but knew she did not trust him. He had thought that her mother had finally arrived in the UK, which he believed to be inevitable, and he had expected that she would order Dilan to cut off all contact with him. He had not heard from Yasmin since their angry phone call six months ago.

Pembroke took a maths class that Dilan had previously attended, and went through the motions of calling names in the roll call and got to ‘Dilan Barzini.’ “She ain’t coming back, she’s gone back to manage her uncle’s camels” shouted one boy from the back and there was sniggering. It caused some racial aggravation with a brown skinned boy shouting back. Pembroke calmed them down. It seemed clear no one really cared where she was though he guessed some of the boys must have a crush on her.

Lucy Gibbons was trouble as always. “Sir what did you get up to over Christmas.” Pembroke replied that he had done some maths and watched the great escape. “I always wonder what old men get up to on holidays, gives me the creeps it does…” she said a little more quietly. Another allusion to him being a weird paedophile. “Lucy settle down” he said. He walked over to her. “Perhaps you would care to take you and your tiresome ways out of the class and let everyone else study?” he said menacingly. To his surprise, she shut up.

Pembroke did not get the insult out of his head. That evening, he had Dilan dress up in the school uniform, had her lie down on her back, and after taking all his clothes off squatted down on her face while he ran his hands over the material, and his hands up and down her skirt. He imagined manhandling Lucy Gibbons like this, which was easier as the head of the prone school girl underneath him was obscured by being sat on. Dilan licked at his bumhole while hearing about what Pembroke wanted to do to Lucy Gibbons. Part of Dilan felt terrified that he might bring Lucy down here as her co-prisoner. Pembroke was however content with just imagining Lucy’s tongue being forced into his asshole as he could rough her up humiliatingly. He savoured the experience and kept it in his head when he next had to teach Lucy.

His sexual appetite was well sated by fucking Dilan while wearing her uniform, and he found he was more comfortable around the girls at school knowing that he could have access to a body just as beautiful as they best of them, any time he wanted. His classes grew more respectful, and he even started noticeably losing weight and looking fitter.

Meanwhile, Ronald Kelper had grown used to the ever present stress of waiting for disaster. He had started drinking during the day to blot out the pain. He could not see any way out of this situation, his blackmailer was unknown and could be a gang of 12 people for all he knew. Suicide still seemed a viable option, but a deeper fear was that his family would find out anyway. Even though he did not believe in the afterlife, he hated the thought that his family would never forgive him this sin even in death or even if they did see him again in the next world. He had thought of admitting everything to the police to see what they could do to keep the information out of his family’s knowledge. He actually had not done anything so bad that admitting it would mean a long prison sentence, though the video evidence omitted that he had walked out before anything had gotten serious. He realised they may never believe he had not had full sex with the girl in the video.

He even thought of killing his wife and daughters with him. Darker thoughts sometimes intervened and as they sat at dinner, he also thought he could rape both of his daughters before killing them. He still could not let go of the fact that he had not actually gone through with any of his base desires that were going to get him in the end anyway.

Things were brought into focus in late January. Abdul had started running low on cash. He also suspected that Kelper may have been the man in the blue raincoat, or may have caused Dilan to disappear. Kelper knew who she was, he had known her name and school. While both could have been fake, had he checked them out, he might have found a real Dilan at that school that looked just like her. He also knew the hotel room, and seemed to have had a connection with Dilan.

The more he thought about it and the longer that Dilan stayed away, the more he convinced himself that Kelper was almost certainly the man in the blue raincoat, with a fake moustache, and that unless Dilan had the wherewithal to stay hidden from all her contacts, she must have either been killed or was living with someone.

In any event, he could still blackmail Kelper. He sent him a message. “Have you heard from Dilan you dirty old man? By the way, can I borrow five grand? Thanks.”

Ronald Kelper got the message while drunk in his car parked outside his house. He responded. “We’re even, I am skint.” It was hopeful and it didn’t’ work.

“I am being reasonable. Five grand is half it was last time. Just send it to me and tell me what is up with Dilan, where is she.”

Kelper recovered his composure and texted back “Leave it with me will respond soon.”

He sobered up in his house and went straight to bed. He wished he could sleep and never wake up. His wife questioned his drinking and they had a huge argument the next morning. Kelper left to go to work, and began thinking more clearly. Dilan must have taken his advice and left this thug behind. Maybe it was just the one guy he had spoken to in the hotel? Was he desperate to know where Dilan was?

Kelper realised he had one slim lifeline he had to grab onto. He texted the next day. “I want to meet you in person, and tell you about Dilan. She wants to meet you too. I will bring the cash.”

Excited, Kelper whizzed through work, and could barely eat his dinner while waiting for a response.

“OK, what about your hospital.” Kelper thought hard and replied “OK” and then they arranged some more.

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