Dilan and her Teacher Part 6/6

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 49

It was now over a month since Dilan’s disappearance. Her absence from school was finally becoming a problem for the school and Fiona Monaghan. One social worker finally took an interest and got herself involved. The entire handling of the migrants in Willowbridge was also under focus. Other migrants were tracked down with some investigation. One fourteen year old was found living with her family in Newcastle having been absent from school for months with no one checking on her. Braving accusations of racism, the local press became more vocal about the hotels and the chaos that been caused since the summer. Some migrants were relocated to bigger cities.

Dilan herself could not be found. Her uncle Mohammed maintained he had not seen her since October and was shocked when he was told that Dilan’s mother had been missing presumed dead for well over six months.

It was 30th January. Ronald Kelper had come into work as usual but had an afternoon off booked. Abdul walked into the hospital, feeling safe. He knew he had nothing to fear from the authorities and that Kelper could not do anything in his own workplace.

He knocked on Kelper’s office and Kelper opened it for him. They stared icily at each other.

“So, its you…”

“Who did you think it is. I’m not alone you know…”

“Who else is here ?”

“We are part of an organisation. Listen we take a bit of the top, so your wife won’t even know its missing, just think of it like missing a pay rise, I know you get paid a lot…”

“I can’t live life this, I didn’t even do anything.”

“Oh yeah? Where is she, she’s vanished off the face of the earth, man.”

“What if I told you I can get her for you if you promise to give me all the copies.”

“Yeah, I can promise you that…”

Kelper paused, and in the silence listened for anyone walking outside the door of the room. Suddenly, he picked up what looked like a phone, and fired a taser directly at Abdul’s chest. Abdul jostled in his chair but could not move. Quickly, Kelper grabbed a hidden needle of profinil and ketamine, and injected it into his neck. Abdul slumped down in the chair, unconscious. He locked the door from the inside and prayed no one had heard anything.

Breathing heavily while trying to compose himself, he brought out a bag, and used zip ties to tie Abdul’s hands and legs together. He then took out his phone and frisked him. He brought out several rolls of masking tape and swathed his body in the same. A gag was placed in his mouth, and he placed him on a small table. On the top of the table was a set of medical equipment. Using a long cloth to cover the whole table, he placed the drugged, trussed up Abdul underneath the table top on the bottom rung of the table. He wheeled the unconscious Abdul out of the room and through a busy corridor full of people. He dreaded listening for a cry from Abdul, or some thrashing, which would give the game away, but nothing came.

He brought Abdul into a part of the hospital which was unoccupied. He had been able to lock it down, and used to carry out an impromptu interrogation of Abdul. Using a further cocktail of drugs, he was able to experiment with things he had only read about. He effectively administered a truth serum into Abdul which coupled with the taser, the propofil and the ketamine made him dangerously close to death.

Kelper, with some patience, gathered that Dilan really had disappeared. That only he and “Jacko” were in on the blackmail, and that the damaging material was only kept by Dilan, Jacko and himself. Kelper thought calmly about a possible solution. He had, for months now, resigned himself to suicide and possible murder of his own family. He had no compunction now about killing Abdul, who had ruined Kelper’s life so that he could get a little money for drugs women and cars. He also really wanted to kill Jacko.

He realised he had very little hope of tracking Dilan down, unless she ever got in touch with him though he thought she wanted no part of it, at least from what he had gathered from Abdul’s drugged state. Though if he to, or even if had the opportunity, he would kill her as well, in fact he would rape her properly this time, he grimly pledged.

He had no way of getting to their devices, he despaired. There was no way he could guarantee that all traces of the video had left this earth. The best he could do would be to eliminate the blackmailers which would at least bring him pre-emptive vengeance. While Abdul was slurring in front of him, he checked the details of “Jacko” aka Mr Jackson Mertle. He worked in IT support and apparently had a girlfriend and two kids.

Kelper resolved to handle Mr Mertle as soon as possible. He now knew that he and Abdul were not close and had not spoken in weeks. After getting all the information he could and checking for discrepancies, he congratulated himself. Even the best torturer could take notes from him. He wished he could write this up as the most effective truth telling agent known to man.

His next steps were particularly evil. He planned a recreational drug overdose for Abdul, who had a fondness for ketamine among other drugs. The room was now littered with empty plastic packages, discarded drip feeds, and fluid. He engineered a drug overdose, which he calculated would not kill him but leave him brain damaged. Thus avoiding “suspicious death” but taking Abdul out of the equation, forever. The still restrained Abdul could barely mutter anything, and only fluttered his eyelids as Kelper care. He carefully injected the last does into his arm. Kelper looked with righteous anger at Abdul as his eyes rose up and then closed. He had no pity for this brute who had done nothing but ruin lives.

He cleared everything up and put all the detritus of his horrific experiment on top of the table he wheeled out and along the corridor. The comatose body of Abdul was hidden underneath the cover. He smiled at the nurses – “Just checking the kits” he smirked. What he was doing was irregular, but nobody would question it. He could only hope no one would ever be so diligent as to look for Abdul going into the hospital and then look for him not coming out.

In his office, he put Abdul into a large hold all, and wheeled him out. He had hired a moped and after putting on some leathers on Abdul, he tied his alive but unconscious body around him, and drove off. In the darkness, both in helmets, they looked to all the world like a couple on a motorcycle. In a pre determined spot, outside a small alleyway he stopped, dismounted, took off the jacket and helmet of Abdul, and dragged him next to some bins. He took out some needles and put them in his hand. He slinked away and drove off.

Abdul was found asleep the next day. People stepped over him and ignored him until someone eventually called for an ambulance. He was treated in A and E, and treated as a drug overdose. He was stable but critical and the brain damage worried the doctors into thinking he would never wake up.

Eleven days after Abdul’s overdose, Jackson Mertle was walking his dogs in his morning routine, unaware that he was being watched from a parked car. Ronald Kelper had become akin to an assassin the past few days, a man on a mission. After discovering Mertle’s routine, he had begun watching him every morning before going on his work shift. Today he had taken the morning off. He put on a jogging tracksuit and began a strategically timed run.

The park had no cameras within it, and Mertle’s walk took him over a small bridge over a shallow pond. Kelper had his taser ready, along with a cocktail of drugs. He met Mertle over the bridge, looked ahead, then quickly looked behind. He saw with dismay an elderly woman had just appeared. He cursed, passed Mertle, ran a bit longer, and then waited. The elderly woman was taking ages to get out of the way.

He cursed. He could try another time, though unless he took a another holiday, he would be late for work by a crucial fifteen minutes which was impossible unless Mertle took his walk earlier. The old lady passed by. Kelper, took a long look around, and narrowed his eyes on the figure of Mertle, still walking nonchalantly alongside his dog.

Kelper began running after Mertle, he looked all around again, and still Mertle did not turn around. He pointed the taser directly at his back and fired. Mertle collapsed in a heap. Next, was a true test of Kelper’s determination and adrenalin. He picked up the heavy Mertle, and began to carry him back towards the bridge. He was able to check around, nobody had seen him, and nobody was coming. He fought with all his might but he got him there. His dog barked at him the whole way. Finally at the bridge, he set him down, took his shoe and sock off, and administered a drug under his toenail. His dog kept barking at him. Kelper prayed nobody would come too soon. He put Mertle’s shoe back on and watched him convulse. Then, he heaved him over into the shallow water. Mertle fell in and floated up head first. Kelper looked around. Perfect, but the fucking dog! He decided he would stay, if anyone came, he could claim to have just happened on the scene. He did realise that Mertle had not seen him and if he was rescued he would not be able to identify him other than as a good Samaritan. However he may well recognise him from the video and put two and two together. The drug may induce a heart attack and its effect with the cold water may already have killed him. He agonised listening to the dogs incessant barking. He had completely discounted it and had relied on Mertle’s death being quiet and unseen for the time it would take him to get to his car and drive off.

Eventually he lost his nerve, ran off and got in his car and drove to his workplace. Even on his day off, he still wanted to finish things off, he told colleagues. He was able to take a quick check on Abdul. He was on life support and a decision was going to have to be made soon as to whether to turn off his life support.

Later that evening, he heard a news item about a man in Willowsbridge who had died in an accident in a pond in a park. The next day the news covered the story of Jackson “Jacko” Mertle, a popular young man who had drowned in tragic circumstances. It was believed he had gone in to rescue his dog, and the shock of the cold water, or a slip in the water, had given him a heart attack and drowning had finished him off, according to his twitter. He scoffed at the medical twitterbots, but noted with relish that his tormentors were now gone.

Chapter 50

As February grew to a close, Pembroke was settling in nicely into this routine. He woke up every morning at 6am to watch Dilan, he would shower and ready himself and go down and perform exercises. As an example, today, Dilan would be instructed to change into a pair of navy gym pants and sports bra and socks. This matched an outfit Pembroke had seen on instagram which had sent his heart racing.

Dilan was instructed to perform 100 half push-ups, 100 star jumps, 100 squats and 100 crunches. Pembroke stood over her with a pad with button in his hand. On her neck, he placed a shock collar on Dilan. “Now Dilan, this is for your own good. Let’s get through this.” He was generous and allowed her time to recover between bursts of repetitions, but if he spotted slackness he would press it and induce a shout of pain from Dilan. This was followed up by downward dog during which he pawed over her bum as she patiently maintained he position.

“Excellent, now get some water, and let’s do some oral sex training. I want your top off for this one.”

Dilan drank from a water bottle, then walked over, drenched in sweat, to a new contraption Pembroke had assembled just for her. She peeled offer sports bra to reveal her nipples had been pierced and were now holding small metal bars.

Pembroke had researched nipple piercing online and noted it was relatively straightforward. He ordered a kit online, and had Dilan tied down to the gyna table. He applied extra straps to immobilise her, and quickly pierced her nipples after sucking on them to harden them. He worked the little bars through afterwards and dabbed them with antiseptic. Her screams were not much more severe than when he had buggered her for the first time. “Good girl” he had simply said.

Now, he admired the piercings. He did not know if it was his imagination but they seemed to have caused her breasts to grow. She was certainly developing and he thought from looking at photos, particularly Abdul’s old photos, that she had matured somewhat in the last few months. He was perfectly happy with her form now and hoped she would not grow any more.

The contraption he placed her into, was built by him and he was very proud of it. It was a column to which a kneeling pew was attached with cushion. He had used Dilan to make it by constantly measuring for her and this was one of the reasons he did not want her to grow.

Halfway up the column were hand cuffs to hold her hands. The pew also had ankle cuffs for her ankles, so that she was forced into a kneeling position with her legs spread so her bum was slightly off the ground to allow for “access.” On this occasion, Pembroke had kept her gym pants on, but he was able to slide a electrified butt plug down the back of her shorts and lodge it firmly into her bumhole, with wires coming out around her back and connected to the top of the column. Other wires were attached to the little bars piercing her nipples. Others were attached to a dildo which he forced into her vagina, attached by wires to the same place as those coming from the butt plug. The tight gym knickers helped to keep in the dildo and butt plug.

He carefully calibrated the main device, which was on top of the column and could be adjusted to slide up or down. He lined it up so that her nose was perfectly in line with a little button, which, when clicked, jumped out and extended about six inches. It ‘clicked’ on two occasions: once when pressed in, and secondly when allowed to extend out the full six inches. Above this extendable button was a screen. It appeared like a speedometer, with an arrow going from left to right, the green color appearing from the left side of the screen and extending to the right, eclipsing the original red screen. Then the arrow went from right to left, with red increasing and gradually eclipsing the green. It was like watching a car’s windshield wipers. It was meant to be a visual aid. Currently, he had set the machine so that the button had to be clicked ‘in’ every 1.5 seconds, then clicked ‘out’ 1.5 seconds after that, then ‘in’ 1.5 seconds after that, etc. The arrow on the screen crossed every 1.5 seconds, so to match the requirements for the clicks, one had to keep track of the arrow going back and forth. The screen was right above the button. It was designed for the button to be pressed and released by the nose, and the eyes to view the screen.

The “penalty” for being too early or late for the clicking was for an electric shot to be passed through the wires. On first testing, Dilan had only to click back and forth with her nose, getting into the rhythm of the back and forth every 1.5 seconds. It was still very easy to lose concentration and on each miss, she would squeal with pain whenever the shock would course through her body.

After being satisfied it worked, Pembroke introduced a new feature for its real purpose. Underneath the “nose button” was a hole into which a dildo was fixed, the position of which matched the distance between Dilan’s nose and mouth. Now in order to follow the clicks, she had to push the button in and out with her nose while also keeping her mouth open to allow for the dildo to enter her mouth then leave again. Pembroke could control the length of the dildo and button, the length of time between clicks, the strength of the electric shocks and the duration of the exercise.

This morning he aimed for a leisurely sucking of a seven inch dildo with mild shocks. After tying her in, he pressed the start button and shouted “Begin!!” For Dilan the hardest part was the first few seconds and getting the rhythm right. More often than not, the first few seconds were filled with muffled screams. The shocks themselves made it harder for her to time the sucking/pushing and so it often took a few seconds of shocks/screams before she had settled down into a quiet steady rhythm.

Pembroke stood over Dilan as she screamed, shaking and coughing and spluttering on the dildo, her head shaking wildly until she got into the rhythm, he could tell from her continued coughing that she needed air and the delay while breathing in a few seconds later brought more quieter screams until she began sucking again this time more cleanly with less noise.

“Good girl…that’s the hard part over”, he patted her head. He ran his hand idly over her back and caught the droplets of sweat dropping down and disappearing into the cleft of her buttocks and into her gym pants from which a wire arose.

He settled down on an IKEA armchair just beside her and sat down admiring her. Her toned body reminded him of the athletes he had masturbated over on youtube. He noted that sometimes you need to leave a little to the imagination hence the shorts staying on her.

He opened up the paper and read as she sucked. Dilan could concentrate on nothing else but the green to red/red to green in front of her as she moved back and forth and the screen became smaller and larger in her immediate focus. She had sometimes tried to count but gave up after 1,000.

Pembroke read through the news about world events and noted the worsening situation in the middle east, the migrant crisis, and the economic situation. He sighed and wondered what the world would look like in 10 years time. He then read over the local paper and skimmed through it. He saw an article about a young father who had drowned in a local park and saw a picture of a thick set man smiling into the camera with a baseball cap and shaved head. “Strange, that” he thought, recognising the park name. He read through the article to see how a young strong man could have drowned in a pond. “ known to his friends as ‘Jacko’, he was described as a fun loving young man with many friends and devoted to his two children….”

‘Jacko’… he thought. It rang a bell.

He looked at the time, five minutes left of her exercise. He did not want to end it too soon; he liked routine and wanted her to know it. He finished the article and scanned the rest of the paper. Eventually, a loud “BEEP” sounded, the screen in front of Dilan’s eyes went white, and she stopped pressing/sucking, and withdrew her head from the column. As the dildo left her mouth a long trail of saliva fell from her mouth to the floor, adding to a puddle which had collected between her thighs. Her chin glistened with it. She knelt back, her bum on her heels and breasts heaving with the effort.

“Good effort Dilan. Now let’s get these things off you…” he took the wires off then removed he butt plug and dildo. He released her wrists, and let her rub them and stretch before standing up.

He folded the article to cover any sign of the name “Jacko” and pointed to his photo. “By the way do you recognise this man?”

Dilan peered closer. She gripped the edge of the paper, and he swatted her hands away. “No need for you to touch it darling.”

“Sorry sir.”

She sprung down on her honkers and scrunched her face. “I think sir, that it is Jacko… the friend of Abduls that did that video of me and the man.”

“This Jacko was one of the men who raped you?” questioned Pembroke.

“Yes sir” said Dilan quietly. For her, all sex, especially now, was rape. It seemed silly to even consider a difference.

“Are you sure?”

She took another look. “Yes, I’m sure that’s him…”

“He leant forwards and gave you’re a playful smack on her bum

“Sir… remember always say sir”

“Yes sir that is Jacko, that’s him”

“Interesting” said Pembroke. “I want you to wash those things under the shower now, and clean the floor and your mess with that cloth.

He r- read the article. He wondered what the chances were of this rather strange death happening. He immediately thought to check on Abdul’s status when he got upstairs.

“Right, finish your breakfast now, I’ll take things up, and get ready to go to school. Some of us have to work, you know!”

Chapter 51

Mohammed Barzini was growing increasingly frustrated with the social services and police in Willowbridge. Since learning of his sister-in-law’s death, he had grown concerned about Dilan’s disappearance. He didn’t blame Yasmin for mistrusting the family and did not particularly grieve over her, but Dilan was his blood and he felt some responsibility. He had lodged a formal complaint as to how they had lost track of his niece. The social services responded that Dilan had repeatedly asked not to be forced to live with or visit him. But they were not forthcoming as to where or how they had housed her. In part desperation and part anger against the authorities he had instructed a local firm of solicitors to investigate a potential action against the Willowbridge local authority.

Fiona Monaghan was far from getting off scot free and was now subject to a police investigation for child neglect. More kids and migrants were being tracked down but the only still missing and unaccounted that was under 16 was Dilan Barzini.

Abdul Hasani remained on life support, while doctors debated whether to turn off his life support. He had not yet made the local media reports.

Ronald Kelper was feeling great. He had not drunk alcohol in weeks, and was back to his cheerful self. His wife liked the change but was now weary that he could soon inexplicably change back again.

In early March, Pembroke had acted as usher for the schools valentine disco. As usual the girls had over done it with skimpy outfits, although Pembroke cheerfully chatted with them and did not shyly turn away and gawk at them behind their backs (or bottoms). He knew he had ‘steak at home’ and made a note of his favourite slutty dress to see if he could get it for Dilan. That night, he drove straight home, and pummelled Dilan passionately. Dilan was now used to his inexplicable animalistic urges usually being brought about by spotting a lovely little thing at school or in a shopping mall earlier that day.

The next morning he did not bother showering and turned up to school. He could still smell the scent of Dilan in his mouth having kissed and gone down on her for hours. He hoped he did not “smell of sex” though did enjoy having her scent on him.

That morning, he was asked to come in to a meeting room, and was started to see two police officers alongside the headmaster.

“What is this about?” asked Pembroke rather too calmly, he thought to himself. “Don’t worry Edward, formalities I am afraid, we are going through everyone today. It is about Dilan Barzini, I’m afraid” replied Mr Martin, the headmaster.

“I am inspector Guffly, and this is sergeant Thomas” was the introduction from a middle aged man with a shock of ginger hair next to Thomas, who was an unsmiling young blonde lady.

“We are just taking statements regarding Ms Barzini. We understand you had her for maths class?”

“I did, sorry can you tell me what this is all about?”

“Have you noticed she hasn’t come to class since Christmas?” enquired Thomas, the young policewoman.

“Yes, yes I have, in fact I made a compulsory report after the first week in January, I recorded all her absences… but there wasn’t anything else I was supposed to do..”

“Yes that is right,” interjected the headmaster, Mr Martin, who was tall and avuncular and wore huge thick glasses enlarging his eyes. “The teachers all followed procedure…”

“Did you notice anything about young Dilan, any signs of stress, did she ever talk to you..?” enquired Thomas again.

“Not really… no.. no she was quiet, didn’t really talk to anyone much… well behaved…her work was… average I would say. What has happened to her?”

“We don’t know..” said Guffly. “Have you seen her outside of school?

“No, never.”

“Did you hear any rumours about her, anything at all?”

“Not really, I recall some pupils made fun of her, but they were the bullies of the class they picked on everyone. A few comments on calling her a gypsy” He paused thinking maybe this was too much information even though it was true. “I put a stop to it and they behaved after that, they did not repeat it in class.”

“None of the pupils have made any comments, even in jest, about her disappearance ?”

“Well… er… to be honest you have used the word ‘disappearance’. I hate to say it officers, but that was not a word we would have used until you’ve raised it today. She just stopped coming to school. I think it was assumed by myself, and by the pupils, that she had just…gone somewhere else…”

“She was thirteen, Mr Pembroke. When a child disappears you are not supposed to just assume she has gone ‘somewhere else’.”

Pembroke noticed Mr Martin getting as nervous as he was. He realised they did not suspect him of criminal wrongdoing rather that they were blaming him for not doing anything to report her ‘missing’ though he knew that failure was the school’s and so Mr Martin was probably in a lot more trouble that he was.

“Well I’m sorry, I think we… have had issues with the … the migrant children” said Pembroke. He glanced at Mr Martin. He felt sorry for him. He was relieved inwardly, he was coming across as awkward because (he hoped this was obvious) he could say nothing except put the senior management of the school in more trouble. It was not his job to monitor truants out of school. “Sorry I must ask again, has anything happened to young Dilan?”

“We have no idea” replied Ms Thomas. “She has some family in the country but they have not heard from her since before Christmas. We are investigating her friends outside of school but we are interested to hear what her teachers do, or do not know about her…” She was plainly disgusted that a girl could just disappear from school and no one could know about her.

Mr Pembroke thought of asking more questions, but did not want to drag this out. He did not want them to ask him any personal questions. He was still aware the smell of the missing girl’s genitals was likely being breathed from his mouth into the police officers’ faces as they spoke about her.

“That will be all, Mr Pembroke, thank you.”

That evening, Mr Pembroke joined the other teachers in the pub. He had, at lunchtime, gone a quick shower in the changing rooms and taken some chewing gum.

“So that poor girl is missing, we’re halfway through March, she hasn’t been in since before Christmas… my God the school is fucked” said Ms Henderson. Another teacher chimed in “We would have been called racist if we had interfered. She’s not the only one anyway there’s loads other that just fucked off why they concentrating on her?”

“I think she’s the only one that was actually a child” responded Ms Henderson… “the rest were all over 16. Anyway I think they do actually know where all the rest of them are. They even found one in Sweden!”

“What a fucking joke.”

Ms Henderson went on “the heads are fucked. They’re gonna roll now “she cackled.

“What I want to know is where were the fucking foster carers? They seemed to be just living in hotels.”

“Her foster carer is going to prison and she deserves it” it was Mr Clarence, a new chemistry teacher who was also a local councillor. “The council palmed off the under 16s to the foster carers and gave them 400 quid a week. The carers just let them hang out in the hotels with the rest of them. It’s hard work but don’t do it if for 400 quid a week if you can’t handle it. The hotels the school the carers… what a shambles, this country is going to the dogs.”

“It’s a shame” said Mr Pembroke solemnly. I mean it’s a bit racist isn’t it. If one of the local girls didn’t come in for six weeks and we didn’t trace the parents or any sign of her… well I mean you can’t imagine it can you?”

Ms Henderson chimed in “It’s not your job Eddie. Frankly; it’s not even management’s job. They shouldn’t be letting in every tom dick and harry if you haven’t a clue who they are.”

Pembroke noted the conversation rarely swung around to Dilan herself or speculation as to where she was and what had happened to her. The only thing that seemed to matter was who was to blame.

“Right, well I’m off” said Pembroke. “See you all tomorrow!”

Chapter 52

Dilan’s health continued to be no cause for concern, but Pembroke knew he had to take her outside to get sunlight eventually. He also wanted to properly air out the basement and clean it. It was still cold but he noted the forecast had predicted highs of 13 for that particular late March weekend. To prepare for it, he tested out the bondage outfit he had purchased for Dilan which comprised of blindfolds, gags, ankle spreader bar and cuffs for the wrists, connected to a collar for arms to be tied behind the back.

Pembroke pretended they were playing another sex game as he got her into the costume, then informed her that actually, she was going to go outside for some air.

He had taken some precautions. He drove his car to the shops, and walked back the half mile. This would show any visitors his car was missing and he was out, and hopefully discourage them from ringing and waiting if he didn’t come to the door (because he was busy attending to a young girl in bondage).

His back yard was enclosed from others’ view, and he had put out washing to further obscure any view should someone suddenly fly a drone, or look around the wall of the house without coming closer.

Dilan had been dressed in short shorts and vest and after being harnessed into her costume, he at first pushed her towards the cage. She could only take awkward side steps turning her hips inwardly as she walked thanks to the short ankle spreader bar. Pembroke was taking no chances. Once about to go through the padded door he put the blind goggles on her followed the blindfold, carried her over his shoulder like a fireman, and brought her upstairs. His heart was in his mouth as he carried her across the hallway, and into the living room. It felt thrilling and frightening to have her upstairs. He sat her on the sofa as he recovered his breath. She was immobilised and disorientated and he felt safe enough to briefly pop through to the hallway and check on the front yard to make double sure no one was around. It would be tremendous bad luck if a visitor did arrive but one never knows.

Again he lifted her and carried her out to the back yard. He set her down on a sun lounger, and handcuffed her ankles to the legs of the sun lounger and used masking tape to strap her to the upper part of the lounger. Her arms were still uncomfortably squashed behind her back. “Good girl” he whispered. “I am just letting you get some sun.”

He put a blanket around her torso to keep her warm but took the blindfold and goggles off, and let the sun at her bare shoulders legs and face. She squeezed her eyes shut at the first of sunlight in three months. He sat there waiting. How long did she need the sun for? This was incredibly stressful for him. He knew she could not get away but did not want to leave her there out in the open. He performed his HIIT exercises to relieve the stress. After the exercises, he lay on the ground, his back against the wall, looking at her face. Her eyes were squinting so much it was hard to say if was looking at him. Her mouth gag prevented any noises coming out. He had his phone constantly ready to play a music segment if any loud moaning came out unexpectedly.

After an hour, he took off her blanket, uncuffed her ankles to the sun lounger and cut off the masking tape. He helped her sit up, swung her legs around, then manoeuvred her so that she was facing down. He cuffed her ankles back to the sides of the lounger and didn’t bother with the masking tape this time as she was face down with hands behind her back so couldn’t really move much. He left the blanket off for a few minutes to let her arms get the sun.

He saw her arms strained by being pulled upwards to her neck collar, and so in sympathy disconnected the wrist cuffs from her collar and she was able to let her wrists flops back on her lower back. He sat back and waited for this hour to be up, he wished he smoked to relieve the stress and boredom.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. He started. He crawled through the open back door and sneaked along the ground of the kitchen to try and see through the front door. It didn’t look like police. He was not expecting visitors. He thought what to do… if he ignored them they might go away but what if they decided to be nosy around the backyard? But what if he opened the front door? He could not just shoo them away. If they asked to see his backyard, he could briefly show them the backyard and hope they did not look past the washing. He thought of getting a knife from the drawers… it occurred to him suddenly that he was now in great danger. He may need to commit murder…

“Hello sir, fancy a chat?” he heard the letter box open and, too late, he made eye contact with a pair of eyes through it.

“Oh All right… coming” he said. He slipped a sharp knife into his shorts.

He opened the door. It was a door to door salesman. He could have laughed and hugged him.

The young man entered into a long spiel, and suddenly Pembroke interrupted him and said “I’m in a good mood today, come on sign me up”. Frustratingly, it took quite a while, and Pembroke went from cheerfully signing up to wanting to change his mind and reject him. Eventually it was finished, and the salesman had gone on his way. He ran back to the yard. He fully expected to see an empty lounger. Instead, he could see her writhing around seemingly trying to break free of her bounds. It occurred to him that she could have overturned the lounger or somehow managed to make tapping or banging noises.

He looked around, and saw nothing untoward. He released the bounds chaining her to the lounger and carried her back in the house. Sunlight was important but not this important he laughed to himself. He realised the probable true reason for the writhing, her skin was ice cold and he had not put the blanket on her before going to talk to the salesman. He put her down on the living room floor and put the blindfold back on, then carried her downstairs through all the doors, then closed all the doors including the cage door before releasing her.

“Sorry my dear, you’re very cold I hope you don’t catch something. Well, I think that is more than enough sunlight for now! Don’t worry I will have something better planned for the summer and we can stay out longer…”

Chapter 53

Pembroke felt better and better each month. He even started to suspect some of the female teachers were beginning to eye him up. It was as if they sensed he was a taken man and wanted some of him. One day he met a woman named June at the supermarket, they chatted, exchanged numbers and went on a few dates. She was in her early forties, divorced with kids. Therefore, they had to go back to his. Pembroke prepped everything. One thing he was scared of was Dilan’s hair. He even bought a special brush to dust himself off after leaving the basement, and even had a small rack of clothes he only wear for the basement which he changed in and out of at the foot of the stairwell, so as to minimise the chance of bring Dilan’s hair and anything else into the rest of his house.

He double checked access to the basement monitors, his camera, his secret laptop, the laundry and whereabouts of Dilan’s dirty clothes. A lifetime of hiding things had prepared him well. After this, a nice dinner at a restaurant followed by a bottle of wine at his place led to his first sex with anyone other than Dilan in months. He and June continued their casual relationship for a few more weeks. He knew he could not take this seriously, it was asking for trouble and he did not think June was the love of his life, and so he let it end.

His aura of mastery over this classroom continued to improve. He was given flying colors in an Ofsted investigation. Some of the girls even seemed to give him admiring looks and the flippant comments (that he heard, anyway) had stopped.

Every so often he made Dilan dress up in the school uniform and they role played discipline scenes. Spanking, light caning, over his knee, or over the tables. He encouraged her to act, and showed her scripts and videos of scenes where he wanted to act out one person scenes. She was not very expressive at this but he encouraged her with the shock collar. With his background in acting, he was able to offer guidance and shocked her when she didn’t enunciate, or did not open herself up to paying the character, or if her dancing was not good enough.

Dilan hated doing this almost as much as any sexual acts. She was shy anyway, felt ridiculous doing it and knew it was for his amusement. Trying to act cheerful like Judy Garland’s character from Wizard of Oz, acting like a cute little girl, all the while he watched her leering as the sole audience was bad enough. The worst was when he made her act out a scene of lady Macbeth wearing black satin suspenders, knickers and corset, another cheap Chinese import. Memorising the speech and trying to act it out on pain of electric shock was bad enough, but she had to pretend to be serious and earnest while he openly masturbated in front of her. She longed to just suck him off and be done with the scenes. Pembroke on the other hand, enjoyed the drama coaching and felt it was important for Dilan to get into a make believe world.

In June, Pembroke was asked to supervise preparations for the school play. The play attracted the vainest, cutest schoolgirls and for this reason Pembroke wisely ignored all pleas to volunteer unless absolutely necessary. The play was “Anthony and Cleopatra.”

Most of the male parts had to be taken by girls as the boys had considered it unmanly to take part in drama. Pembroke thought how stupid they were, remembering how his own forays into acting had only started because of an interest in girls. He recalled how he would spy on the girls changing, and masturbate while rehearsing dialogue imagining the scenes with girls in school or later in drama societies. One such girl was Anna, who had at first been nice to him and eager to rehearse with him. However, she grew more and more disgusted with his perviness, and Pembroke was sure she had spotted him spying on her changing through a door opening. She refused rehearsals unless in the presence of the others, and their scenes were widely criticised.

One final rehearsal, he watched various parts being played by Jennifer Sula, a gorgeous young year 3 girl, and Cleopatra being played by Sehar Chaudhary, whom he had long lusted after. Sehar was a year ahead of Dilan and looked similar, and watching her act in her school uniform brought out such an animalistic lust in him that he had to check himself. He told himself he had Dilan waiting for him, but as he watched Sehar’s tawny thighs stride across the stage, her dark hair swishing as she admonished her Anthony, (played by a spotty sixth former) he felt like intervening and insisting on coaching her himself. Her acting was terrible, but the luxury of watching her flashing eyes trying to impress the audience had him engrossed.

That evening, he brought some printouts of love scenes between Anthony and Cleopatra down to the basement.

“Dilan, I have a task for you. It’s time for you to come out of your shell and express yourself a little more… so I have these drama scripts I want you to memorise. It is a play by William Shakespeare, you will be a beautiful Egyptian queen, and I will be your Roman emperor..”

“Sir, I don’t know how to do drama or acting”

“Nonsense, I will teach you. It will be fun and maybe wake you up a little. Now, tomorrow evening I will be back down after I finish work and I will expect you to have these memorised. All of your lines, and mine too. I already know this mostly but I will be memorising as well.

Pembroke looked appraisingly at her. She was wearing a yellow t shirt and loose blue shorts.

“What have you got on underneath those shorts Dilan?”

“Wh-white knickers sir..”

“OK, take those shorts off, they are not very pretty or flattering. I appreciate I did not give you warning, but if you know I can come in any time you should make sure you are prettily dressed at all times. You are beautiful and don’t hide your figure under baggy clothes.”

“Yes sir”

She went back to her room through the unlocked door in the partition. Pembroke was a little annoyed that she was changing out of his sight but then realised she was putting on leggings. He grew exasperated and charged in after her.

“Who the hell do you think you are” he snarled and grasped her by the hair, as she hobbled and gasped, the leggings halfway up he legs. “When I told you to take off your shorts I didn’t tell you to put even more clothes back on. You exist for me, if I tell you to take your clothes off its because I want you as close to naked as possible if not naked itself.” He pushed her on the bed. She started to sob and took her head in her hands.

“Alright I’m sorry I should not have lost my temper… now Dilan don’t cry.” He sat down and patted her head. Her hair obscured her face which was buried in a pillow. “I should not use violence against you unless necessary, and this was a minor thing. But I think you showed a bit of cheek just now and I don’t want to see it again. If you obey me and just show of your body a bit, I will let you have a lot of free time down here.” He paused and stroked her legs. He looked approvingly at the tight white knickers with hearts which adorned her crotch and hips. “Now, you look lovely in these panties, no need to cover them up. So let’s get back into the main room and to this script. No need to those ugly leggings OK?”

Dilan breathed hard trying to offset a panic attack. She had done well in disassociating herself from his disgusting acts on her and even grown used to it. But every now and then she was hit by the sudden realisation of time running out. She would soon be fourteen, and had been here over six months. What would happen if this was not just another test another horrible misfortune, but something that would be her life forever?

They walked into the main room. “Now, read out Cleopatra’s lines, I want to hear them and your pronunciations. You will have until tomorrow to learn them off by heart but I want to make sure you understand them first.”

Dilan read out the unfamiliar shakesperean English and Pembroke corrected the words and told her the pauses and how she was supposed to feel.

“Not bad, tomorrow you will not be reading you will be making eye contact with me because you will have learned all this. I will be using the shock collar on you, so any mistakes or hesitations will be punished with shocks, understand?”

“Yes sir” swallowed Dilan.

“Good. This is what the school is currently running, the girl playing Cleopatra is a year above you, Sehar Chaudhary, know her?”

Dilan shook her head.

“She’s gorgeous, Parkistani, made me think of you. I wanted to rape her today, good job I have you instead haha. Now keep going. Again.”

Dilan kept repeating the lines. She hoped this would not be something he would want her to do constantly. She hoped after all this he would be sated and go away and leave her until the next day.

“That’s enough Dilan. I believe in you. Now put the papers away, and let’s have some fun. I am going to use your shower, and I want you to get the razor, I am getting a bit hairy down below, I need you to shave my arse crack, balls and cock. You better do a good job, and you will be licking around these afterwards, so be a good girl and get the razor ready.”

Dilan felt her stomach turn. It would be a long night…

After a night of hot sex, Pembroke awoke and made his way through another day of lessons, until it was time for the play rehearsal. The girls were in their uniforms for the rehearsal, and Pembroke had to remember to keep looking at their faces, as they twirled and twisted their bodies theatrically. Sehar Chaudhary delivered her line better this time, but would never make a decent actress, Pembroke thought.

When he got home afterwards, he immediately checked the monitors and was overjoyed to see Dilan reading over the pages in her bed. He hoped she would have them memorised but was still delighted at the obedience and the thought of how he could control her even when he was far away.

He activated the speaker and spoke to Dilan through it. “Hello, Dilan, I am glad to see you are studying! I hope you get your lines right. Now, please shower and clean yourself; and then what I want you to do now is take out your school uniform, hung up on the rail, and put it on. I would like you to wear white panties underneath your skirt and white bra. Please tie your hair at the back. I will be down in about twenty minutes!”

Pembroke showered himself and made sure the “shock collar” was fully charged. He wore nothing underneath a silk bathrobe. He entered the basement after taking all the precautions as usual, spying on Dilan and making sure she was well away from the entrance, and locked all doors behind him.

Dilan was already in her uniform, the green blazer, skirt and black and green tie properly put together with the white shirt underneath. The skirt came up to halfway up her thighs. Dilan had grown in the last few months though Pembroke had no intention of getting her a bigger uniform. White socks coming halfway up her calfs from black baby shoes completed the look. Other than the shoes, which looked childish and would have humiliated any teenage schoolgirl wearing them, she looked perfectly normal. Her hair was tied back too tightly for Pembroke’s taste. “Let your hair hang loose, I prefer it that way” he corrected her. He gazed at her and again congratulated himself. Her long brown curly locks hung over her perfectly sculpted face, her dark brown eyes betraying her nervousness and shyness. She would never get used to this, he thought. Which was just as well for him, it would keep him forever on his toes.

“You look perfect, my child. You are prettier than any of the girls in the play at school. Now, you don’t need the blazer, but I am going to put this collar on you…” he walked towards her as she took her blazer off and she put it on the nearby gyna table. “This is just to motivate you to learn your lines. I wish I could have used it on the girls today! They were terrible, and the play is next week! But I am sure you will be better. I always believed the stick was better than the carrot, and now is my chance to prove it!” He clipped the collar around her as she stood as morose and still as a mannequin. He twisted the tiny key at the back, withdrew it and put it in the pocket of his bathrobe. He kissed her cheek and hugged her body, running his hands over the fabric of the skirt and the blouse, doing something he had wished to do with every girl in school in uniform he had been watching that day.

“Now, a quick test, you know the drill, just a quick level one…” he moved back to a bean bag in front of her, lay down on it, and took out a remote control from his other gown pocket.

“AH!” hissed Dilan in a loud gasp, as she brought her hand up to her neck with her mouth agape. “That was just to check it works, now I am turning it up to four, and that is the level we will be at from now on. So concentrate! Now, go get your script, we will read through the passages first to give you a chance to refresh.” Dilan scarpered into her room and brought out the papers. “

“Script 1. Begin.” Said Pembroke curtly. He leant back and allowed his gown to fall open. In one hand he held the script, in the other the shock collar remote control. Dilan saw him settle in and the open gown displaying his body including his trimmed penis, still flaccid, and quickly moved her eyes to the script. Every second away from sexual contact was a blessing, she told herself.

“If it be love indeed, tell me how much.” Dilan said the line in a monotone voice. “Now now, I want to hear some feeling, when we do it without the script. No shocks yet, but put some feeling into it, OK?” said Pembroke threateningly.

“There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned.” Pembroke spoke his line as Mark Anthony, still slouched down on the bean bag.

“I’ll set a bo… bon?… how-how far to be beloved” stuttered Dilan. “Aagh!” she screamed and grasped her neck and dropped her papers as the shock took hold. Pembroke sighed and waited for her to regain her composure and pick up the papers.

“Dilan, I don’t mind if you cannot say certain words. What I want to hear is passion and confidence and articulation. And of course I hope you remember these lines when the paper goes away. Now repeat the line.”

Dilan repeated the line perfectly, albeit with eyes firmly on the page and her hands shaking.

“Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.” Pembroke spoke his line firmly while staring at Dilan. “Now I need you to look at me and listen while I speak my lines. We must respond to each other.”

Dilan tried to breathe through her nose to calm herself. “News, my good lord, from Rome.” She tried to speak loudly and firmly. “Good, better!” replied Pembroke. “Grates me! The sum.” He spoke his line quickly, and Dilan stared at the long passage ahead of her. She bit her lip at the thought of saying it without the paper.

“Nay.. nay. , hear them, Antony: Fulvia pe… chance is angry; or, who knows, If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent His powerful mandate to… you, ‘Do this or this; Take in that kingdom and enfranchise that; Perform, or else we damn thee.'” Dilan breathed out after finishing, she had no idea what this even meant.

“How, my love?” responded Pembroke.

Dilan struggled through the last passage. With every syllable she thought she would get another shock. The words jumped around the page as the paper shook with her hands.

“That was a good first attempt Dilan. But you have to remember eye contact. We are talking to each other, you are Cleopatra and I am Anthony. Remember you are a beautiful Egyptian queen, and you love me. If you cannot convince the audience of this, well… “ he held up the remote control.

They repeated the exercise with the script. Dilan kept her mother in her mind, and told herself that the better her performance, the quicker she would be left alone again. She was an actress, though knew that soon her clothes would be ripped off her and eyed Pembroke’s penis nervously as it was gradually swelling.

Pembroke thought of the schoolgirls he had seen earlier that day performing. How he wished he could have kissed them as he would soon to Dilan. He thought of Anna, the red haired slim and pretty schoolgirl he had acted opposite thirty years ago. He had so believed her performance that he could not tell she had no interest in him. Off stage she had been pleasant still, however after he had spied on her this had turned to ice. However on stage she still entranced him, she was a great actress, he now realised. He could not even remember what she looked like when changing, a glimpse of blue, (or was it red? ) knickers was all he could remember, and he cursed himself for being so clumsy as to be caught.

“Now put the script away. Let’s go. Come on.”

“If it be love indeed, tell me how much.” Dilan said the line with her fists bunched by her side, while staring roughly at Pembroke’s direction. Suddenly she felt a fierce shock and screamed.

“Come on Dilan. Well remembered but you have to look at me! And I want to hear some passion, some jealousy, convince me you really love Anthony…” Pembroke was enjoying this. Dilan was actually quite good considering the circumstances but the need for correction so far was turning him on.

Dilan’s eyes started to leak tears down her face, both from pain and humiliation. There was no hiding place now. She tried to picture her mother’s face in place of Pembroke as she said the line in fake passion. Pembroke now had put the script on the floor. The remote control was still in his left hand. His right hand was now stroking his growing penis. His eyes remained fixated on Dilan. He was still slouched down opposite her on the bean bag, his gown now fully open leaving his chest and open legs exposed.

“There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned.” Pembroke said his lines in a lavicious manner, his body still except for his right hand stroking his now erect penis. He licked his lips at the finale, and Dilan responded with “I’ll set a bourn how far to be beloved.” Pushing her chest out in a determined manner, the effort of remembering the lines proved to be a welcome distraction from the gross and intimidating scene in front of her.

Pembroke never took his eyes off Dilan, the tears just made her more believable. Not just as an actress playing Cleopatra, but as a real schoolgirl at the high school and he could almost transport himself to this scenario being played out for real in his classroom.

They continued. “As I am Egypt’s queen, Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of you is… is…”

“Is cesar’s homage….”interrupted Pembroke gently. He did not shock her immediately, instead prompting her to continue.

“Else, else so thy cheek pays .. thy cheek pays … Aaaahhh!”Dilan shrieked and clasped her neck again following the shock. Pembroke interjected, after Dilan had composed herself : “Very good, sorry Dilan I had to shock you as you completely got lost there, but have a read of the last line, and I think you might have it.”

Dilan read the line, and repeated if to Pembroke. They repeated the dialogue several times. Pembroke was at first furiously pumping at his own penis then slowed down lest he cum already. Dilan started to sweat and her white blouse, already quite tight, started to stick to her skin. The strange unfamiliar language became like a song to her and helped her manage the awful situation. She tried not to think about the sexual games they would undoubtedly soon progress to.

Eventually, Pembroke lost control of himself. He placed the remote control on the ground, and crawled towards Dilan. Dilan stopped. Pembroke shouted “Keep saying your lines, damn it! Continue the dialogue!”

“News, my … MY good lord, from Rome.” Dilan stuttered her line. The remote control was not in his hand, but she shrank back in fear as Pembroke slivered towards her like a snake. His eyes were fixated no longer on her face, but on her skirt. He still said his line with precision “Grates me! The sum.” As his words ended, his face contorted into madness and his hands grabbed at Dilan’s hips, his mouth opened wide like a hungry savage wolf, and he pushed his face up her skirt with his eyes closed.

Dilan gasped, and then squealed as she felt his teeth on her crotch through her cotton knickers. He mumbled into her panties “your line… say it… SAY IT!”

Dilan regained her composure “Nay, hear them, Antony… aaa” his hot breath enveloped her groin under her skirt. She looked down and could see only part of his head with the rest covered by her skirt. She knew better than to try and resist. “Keep saying your lines! Dilan!” His eyes flashed upwards in anger at her, just out of her skirt.

“Fulvia perchance is angry……. Oohhh …. Or know.. if…” Dilan managed to say all her lines repeatedly while sighing and moaning as Pembroke ate her through her soaked cotton panties. Pembroke breathed his lines into her with his teeth grating on the wet cotton fabric of the knickers. The smell intoxicated him.

Eventually, Pembroke had enough. Dilan said another of her lines, and waited to Pembroke to respond. After a minute of silence, with nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and chewing and sucking on Dilan’s groin, Pembroke reached his hands up and grabbed Dilan’s shoulders. He pushed her to the ground, roughly, and climbed on top of her. He kissed her passionately while throwing off his gown. He held his hand around her throat, squeezing while staring into her eyes. Dilan grew terrified of the animalistic look in his eyes while she struggled to breathe, uselessly placing a small hand on his iron grip over her throat.

Suddenly, he leant back, and with both his hands, spread her legs, and grabbed at the white material between her legs. With animal strength he ripped the panties apart at the crotch, and immediately plunged his rock hard penis towards her vagina. He went inside in one thrust as Dilan thrust her head back in pain and fear. Pembroke grabbed and pulled her hair with one hand, and pressed her windpipe with the other. Their noses touched as they grunted into each others’ mouths. Dilan’s pupils dilated as her air supply started to cut off and her hands started to claw at his face in desperation. Pembroke’s red face contorted in lust and rage, veins bulging sweat dripping onto her own face, threatened to be the last thing she would ever see.

Suddenly, he came inside her. He collapsed, exhausted, on top of her, and his hands eased off her hair and neck. His head rested on hers, Dilan did not move, grateful to be able to breathe, and lay her hands by her side.

After what seemed like a few minutes, Pembroke rolled off her without a word. He got up, put his gown back on, scooped up the remote control, and made to leave the basement. He turned back to look at the teenager lying on the ground, still fully clothed though now with dishevelled tie, her shirt no longer tucked into her skirt, which was hiked up, and her legs splayed. Her head was turned away, and her elbows bunched up in front of her as she covered her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry Dilan.” He muttered breathlessly, then locked the cage, and made his way out of the doors.

Chapter 54

The summer had now arrived. This time last year, Pembroke had been sneakily masturbating in his car to the girls arriving in school in their shockingly revealing attire. Now he had no need for such disturbing seediness, at least not outside his home. The girls in his class still fooled around. Lucy Gibbons would sit with her legs wide open, which he managed to ignore. He did not fool himself that any of these girls actually fancied him but at least there was no more teasing him as a disgusting loser.

The investigation into the disappearance of Dilan Barzini had barely got off the ground. She seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth. In light of the disasters that year, a number of senior managers at the school were resigning at the end of the year, as was the headmaster Mr Martin.

Fiona Monaghan was handed a suspended prison sentence for criminal neglect. The hotel Kingston closed but then re-opened under new management. The migrants gradually dissipated and only around a quarter of the migrants remained in Willowbridge by the start of the summer.

However without any body, there was no widespread media coverage and most people still assumed she had gone off to live with someone else in another country.

Pembroke took Dilan out a few more times for sun exposure. This time she was left out naked tied to the sun lounge, lathered in sun cream. Unfortunately he could not find any way to guarantee they would never be disturbed and still lived in fear that the police would arrive any time. He fenced off his back yard completely so that no one could get in without his say so. He did hear the door bell once but stayed out back with Dilan behind the clothes line. They left and his ring camera later showed it had been some kind of salesman or pollster.

Abdul had quietly died back in early May. He had showed permanent brain damage and was only kept alive so long because they had tried to exhaustive all options of contacting any next of kin. Because of the delay between the overdose and death, it did not make the local papers or media and Pembroke did not hear of it until by chance at the end of summer term. The class had been fooling around and Pembroke was feeling relaxed enough to talk about their summer plans.

The talk turned to Dilan. Pembroke did not join in but listened as the pupils around the class said how they hoped she was OK. There was an unspoken rumour, he understood, that the bullying she had received may have had a lot to do with her disappearance.

It was Georgina Fennel, a leggy brown haired girl with bright blue eyes, who mentioned that “she might have got mixed up in drugs, you know her ex boyfriend died of an overdose a while back” Pembroke perked up at this. Abdul had fallen off his radar. Pembroke pretended to think this was another pupil “was this someone in this school or at St Brides?” he asked her.

“No, sir she had this older boyfriend, one of the refugees, he was found on the streets out of it one day on drugs, and they brought him to hospital, but he stayed on in a coma and died like three months later.”

The talk turned to drugs and Pembroke made sure to mention how awful they were. He was a little frustrated no one said any more about this boyfriend.

He casually mentioned in the staffroom that he had just heard Dilan’s ex boyfriend had died of a drugs overdose and had never heard of it before. None of the other teachers knew but none seemed surprised. The numbers of the migrants from last summer were dwindling by the day. It was as if a storm was gradually dying down.

After an internet search, he found reports of an Abdul Hasani who had been pronounced dead after a long battle with a coma. Another report stated it was a battle with drug addiction. He found this frustrating and did not know how to find out more information without appearing too nosy for his own good.

He remembered June’s two sisters were nurses. He thought one or maybe both worked at the hospital. He wondered if it was worth pumping her, literally, for information.

It took a week of persuading her to come but he eventually got her to come around for wine and TV. They chatted about work and he talked about the missing kids and how terrible it was and lied about how some pupil was struggling with drug addiction. He waited for June to bring up the missing girl, Dilan, they had previously talked about, and then he brought up that he had recently found out her boyfriend had died of a drugs overdose. He feigned concern that she had maybe died of an overdose in some overlooked place. He talked about the safeguards that were going to be in place next year and that from next year he was going to be expected to find out and know about pupils being into drugs and having dodgy boyfriends.

He got nothing back from June, until a week later when they both ended up in bed again on a Saturday night. He had not been up for it as he just had spent six hours doing something he far better liked, having sex with Dilan downstairs. But he wanted to keep seeing June, for possible information and also to seem like a “normal human being”.

“I found out that guy, Abdul Hasani his name was, was brought in four months ago, he was found in the street, unconscious, and brain damaged from there on. Apparently they thought he had been spiked, like literally attacked with a syringe because he had a syringe mark on his neck, and he couldn’t have taken that much ketamine to do that to himself.”

“So all those spiking stories were true then” mused Pembroke momentarily remembering his own unsuccessful spiking attempts in earlier years.

“It was fairly unusual, but they thought he would pull through, but he just didn’t get better. They would normally have done an autopsy to see what he had in him when he came in dead, but because he was alive obviously they couldn’t and by the time he was dead the original drugs had left his system. Anyway, it was well dodgy. He was a ne’er-do-well and into drugs so no great loss but still. If he was murdered, it was like something out of Poirot, and well, no offence to the guy but he wasn’t the type to be in a Poirot mystery.”

Pembroke smiled to himself. Kelper must have done it. He smiled knowing he could ruin Kelper any time he wanted but for now felt him as a kindred spirit

Chapter 55

Pembroke could not book any summer holidays. He lied to June about going on long trips to see extended family. He once gave Dilan enough food with water available from the tap, to last for a few days and started to leave her an “emergency stash” of food in case he was somehow held up somewhere. He had read the case of the infamous Belgian kidnapper Marc Dutroux and feared being unavailable for some time and did not want Dilan to starve to death in the meantime. He eventually managed to spend three days in Bruges with June, and a few day trips. He did panic when she accompanied him back from Bruges and they promptly went back to his house. He feared she wouldn’t leave for another few days. Thank fully she did go out to work, and he could feed Dilan until she finally went back for good to her own place.

During another one such day trip, they had gone to the beach in Norfolk. Pembroke was growing tired of June’s soft curvy forty year old body and was starting to get annoyed at missing out on time with Dilan. He knew he should avoid the old bachelor look though and June was at least nominally attractive. However the sight of so many young teenage bodies on the beach made his mind wander. He considered the possibility of kidnapping a second girl. He had the space and it would cost little more.

He watched two young hard bodied blonde girls playing on the beach. They wore bright green and blue bikinis. Like all men he was subsumed by the tyranny of choice and would have wanted to bring every girl from any race into his sex dungeon. But he knew he had been lucky with Dilan. The blonde girls he watched had loving parents and would be missed within hours if not minutes. They also had a kind of confidence that came up with living in a secure environment and would not adapt to life in a cage like Dilan.

So much could have gone wrong with the Dilan kidnapping; he was owed some bad luck which would surely come about if he tried something again. He could not try Willowbridge again. A beach a hundred miles away, like this, was a possibility. He considered the logistics. He watched the youngest blonde girl, and imagined punching her hard in her washboard stomach, doubling her up, bundling her into a boot, maybe having time to tie her up, gag her. How would they ever be alone? And CCTV? It would all be checked within hours.

And then of course, how would life be with two girls? They could claw each others’ eye out. He thought that he should be happy with what he had. Life was good. Why spoil it?

There was still a fire within him though. He remembered young Ingrid Nielson, whom he had opportunistically raped, photographed and robbed in that courtyard in London. He had occasionally checked in on her on social media. She was now covered in tattoos and periodically made emotional social media posts, perhaps his actions had caused it. He had the same instinct to do something to these young blonde girls. They were too perfect; he was like a cat who wanted to knock a cup off a table. He slyly took pictures on his phone from afar but knew the photos would never capture the quality he could see now with his own eyes.

The girls looked thirteen or fourteen, about Dilan’s age. He reminded himself to dye Dilan’s hair sometime, he wanted some variety. It struck him that on the breakdown of society that he considered inevitable, girls like this were going to be swept off the street and there would be no CCTV, DNA analysis, biometric identification, phone tracking to stop the likes of Pembroke doing with them as they wished.

He followed them from the beach. Just the thrill of the chase was enough to get him excited. Their slim tight backsides smudged with sand jiggled up and down and creased as they walked. He snapped some more pictures of them from behind until they got to their car. He was half daydreaming, imagining what he could do, when suddenly they turned on him.

“You fucking creep, you’re following us. Dad! This creep is following us.”

Their father appeared from around the car, a tall, blond, handsome looking man who seemed the superior of Pembroke in every way.

“What is going on? Are you following my daughters?”

“Look at him dad, he looks like a paedo,”

Their dad looked at him with disgust. “Why were you following my daughters, you have any kids of your own?”

Pembroke was at a loss for words “I didn’t do anything…” he realised this sounded like an admission of guilt and stammered “I was just walking…”

The man interrupted again, “do you have kids of your own?” Pembroke found it an odd thing to ask.

“No… I don’t, what’s that have to do with anything?”

“Some lonely sad ugly man walking around by himself following my daughters….” The man squared up to him. “Please” pleaded Pembroke…

“What’s going on?” A glamorous blonde woman had now appeared. “Ronald what are you doing?”

“Mum, this disgusting old man was looking at us on the beach” said the older girl.

Pembroke was now panicking; this could escalate from a complaint about being a peeping tom to a search of his house if they found the pictures on his phone he had just taken of the girls.

“Slimy old bastard” She said with disgust. “Men like you need to be castrated.”

Pembroke froze. The girls started laughing at him. “He is gonna piss himself dad, what a fucking loser”

“Ronald let’s get in the car, let’s not ruin our holiday over some sad old man”

The man looked at his daughters, then turned and planted a punch right on Pembroke’s face. Pembroke fell back, and smelt blood in his nose. “For fuck’s sake Ronald!, get in, lets’ go!” cried the woman.

The girls cheered “that’s it dad!”

“If I ever see you again, around my kids or any other kids, I will fucking kill you” said the man, leaning down into Pembroke’s face.

He walked away and got into the driving seat of the car with his family. Pembroke got up and looked at the image of the perfect family with the man having proved his superiority by beating up a beta like him. The girls’ faces looked at him with disgust from the window as the car pulled away. He waited for the bleeding to stop and tidied himself up. He concocted a story for June about having been punched by some louts in a local pub and fortunately there were some rowdy drunks around for the football being shown. June was sympathetic but a little shocked at how this could happen to a respectable person like Edward Pembroke.

Pembroke remembered the peculiar name “Ronald”, remembered the video, and later checked online. Yes, he had just been punched and called a paedo by none other than Ronald Kelper.

Chapter 56

“Keep jabbing your tongue in, my darling, and use your fingers to open me up. That’s it…aahhh”

Pembroke was in his basement, receiving a rim job from Dilan. He was on his back on the gyna table, intended for Dilan to lie on but which he used too. Dilan’s blowjob skills had improved especially with the help of the cocksucking training machine. The stainless steel dildo he had used in it was extremely painful to Dilan’s teeth if they touched it, which helped when it came to her skills in fellatio on a real penis.

Pembroke now regularly came in her mouth after a few minute of skilling sucking. Dilan swiftly realised this new found ability would not mean any less time spent on pleasing her captor. Pembroke enjoyed receiving hours of oral pleasure and he would soon stop her sucking him if he was about to come, and direct her mouth towards his feet, his balls or his bumhole instead to prolong his pleasure. Now lying flat on his back, the supporting leg rests extended up in the air,with his knees pushed back to above his nipples, he found this a comfortable position. It was perfect for Dilan to work him with annilingus and fingering his prostrate as well as sucking and licking on his testicles and penis.

“Now I want to keep your tongue on my asshole for a good ten minutes now, eat it like you’re hungry…. No, no leave my cock or I’ll come, and we need to save that your pussy… oh you’ve got such a great tongue…”

Dilan tolerated this more and more. The sight of a 52 year old man splayed with his legs open was something that eight months in sexual captivity had made her accustomed to it, whereas at first she desperately had to suppress her urge to vomit. Pembroke himself loved nothing more than to violently eat Dilan’s own asshole until she thought it would rip into her.

Months of training had strengthened her tongue and helped her overcome her disgust reflex, which had included the threat of physical pain in the form of electrocution from her collar, and the occasional slap from Pembroke. She must preferred licking his anus like this than when he sat on her face and she could barely breathe or move.

Pembroke loved the power he had over her. How many men in the world had a thirteen year old girl sticking her tongue deep inside their asshole right now?

He was still aggrieved after the attacked by Kelper and his bitchy little daughters. He took solace in the fact that he had gone and dared far more than Kelper. That arrogant asshole had the cheek to attack him and insult him when there was a life ending video of him with Dilan ready and waiting to go.

Pembroke ran over the options while feeling Dilan’s warm tongue circle around his bumhole. He would normally now ask her to stick her finger in while lapping at his testicles, but that would send him over the edge. “Dilan darling, change position and hop on the table with your knees either side of my head. Good… now bend over him and get back to licking my asshole. I just need to check you out from this angle…”

The oral sensations continued except now he could watch and touch Dilan’s ass while he felt his own being French kissed. She wore e a blue thong, and he began to rub her vagina to get her wet. He wanted to imagine this was either Anna or Elisa, one of Kelper’s daughters.

He wondered how to get the most effective revenge on Kelper. Not just Kelper, he thought back to another episode a few years ago when he had been shopping in a mall in east London. It was summer and he had been enjoying the sights of several young girls in skimpy skirts prompting him to take a suspiciously high number of journeys up and down escalators. He had taken a few videos and photos and was about to leave, when a towering shaven headed thug in an England jersey, with shaven head approached him.

“I’ve been watching you, you paedo cunt. Watching those girls? My daughter is over there, if you had looked at her I’d have killed you. You fucking disgusting pervert. Get out of my fucking sight before I do something we will both regret.”

Pembroke had not said anything. There were people all around, and he knew he was safe from physical assault which this thug clearly wanted to inflict on him. On the other hand he did not want anyone to seize his phone and the material he had just recorded. He was grateful to slink away and ran to the station platform and got the first train he could away from there. He was shaken but had since realised he was lucky. The thug’s first and only reaction was to want to hurt him, which he couldn’t do in front of all those people. Had it been anyone else, they would have thought to inform security, or to take his details, take his phone off him or record him for some ‘gotcha’ video.

Both the thug and Kelper reminded him of the bullies who had made his life miserable when young. Both together motivated him to want to ruin Kelper’s perfect life.

He had thought of more financial blackmail, asking for money. He also thought of demanding something like photos of Kelper’s daughters. If he complied, he would add this to the video and send it to the police eventually. He would love to get back at the daughters and humiliate them too and ideally get a sexual kick out of it. He wondered how far Kelper could be pushed, would he sacrifice his daughters, even if just a few photos of them?

It was a nice fantasy, but Kelper had probably killed at least two men and got away with it, and had just assaulted Pembroke. Kelper was dangerous and Pembroke might end up getting looked at by the police himself. Just sending the video itself would be enough to ruin Ronald Kelper and his family, he thought. If only the successful surgeon had just shown a bit more compassion to a fellow admirer of young girls he thought.

Only the local papers at first would get the video and they would be bound to hand it to the police. If he heard nothing, then he would send it on to the police but trusted the papers to want to ruin a man’s life.

He stroked the backs of Dilan’s thighs as he wondered how it might affect the investigation into her disappearance. On one hand, why rock the boat when she had apparently vanished without trace? If this video surfaced, it might raise fresh impetus and outcry, but it would point at Kelper and her circle of ‘friends’ and not any outside actor such as himself.

After Dilan made him cum, he allowed her some rest and went upstairs and went about making a copy of a blank CD ensuring it was non traceable, and went about posting it to the local paper. He thought of Violet, the filipino girl whose life he had almost certainly ruined by posting their online sex videos online, and savoured the power he was holding over kelper’s life as the package slipped from his gloved grasp (to avoid fingerprints) and into the mailbox.

Chapter 57

Pembroke had anticipated having to comb the internet constantly for news of the video and Ronald Kelper. What actually happened was that the story of Dilan mushroomed beyond belief over the next few weeks.

Kelper was arrested for procurement of a child for sex, and owing to his prominent position this was plastered all over local papers, then the daily mail. The latter then decided to run with the ‘refugee sex ring’ centred on the Kingston Hotel.

Police then began investigating Kelper in relation to the disappearance of Dilan Barzini. Investigation of the video and eventual confession by Kelper confirmed it was taken in the Kingston Hotel. Further investigation unearthed that it was likely that Kelper had been secretly videotaped by Dilan and her boyfriend Abdul Hasani whose room it was shown to probably be, and other associates. Hasani had died and inquiries were re-opened into his death.

Kelper was released on bail. He returned home to find the house empty. His wife had taken the girls to an airbnb and had messaged him to say they did not want to see him for the foreseeable future. The video had somehow leaked and had spread around social media. Kelper’s daughters had seen it on friends’ phones at school.

Kelper despaired and his expensive lawyers told him there was very little option but to plead guilty and plead regret. They reasoned with him that if he could convince a judge or jury that he had not gone through with the sex he might even avoid prison and keep his job.

However, the police were now more interested in the disappearance of Dilan Barzini. Kelper grew frustrated that at their focus and their disbelief that he had nothing to do with it. On the other hand, after interviews raised questions about his involvement in the deaths of Abdul Hasani and Jackson Mertle. Kelper’s blood ran cold at the mention of Mertle. He had expected to be suspected of Hasani’s death, and had taken steps to get away with his death. With Mertle, he had been off work that day but came in late anyway in jogging gear, similar to a witness report. A review of CCTV footage would connect his car to the site of Mertle’s death.

Kelper grimly realised that the deaths of Hasani and Mertle had sealed his fate, and now wished he had just allowed the video to be released when he first received it. On the morning of his next police interview, he walked around his spacious house, all alone, and after perfecting a noose with rope from his garage, he hung himself. His body was discovered by the police who had arrived with a warrant after he failed to turn up to the interview.

The scandal grew more and more, and Dilan Barzini suddenly became an icon of refugee neglect and of child sex rings. Another girl, an unnamed underage Afghan girl, had come forward and identified both Mertle and Hasani as members of a gang that had groomed and pimped her out from the hotel and corroborated the stores about Dilan Barzini.

Despite the plethora of work and investigation, Dilan Barzini’s body was never found. It was widely suspected that Kelper, or other ‘clients’ had killed her. One report showed that Hasani believed that someone who looked like an undercover police officer had burgled his hotel room around the time of Dilan’s disappearance which fed rumours of police involvement and a wider conspiracy. The Afghan girl was able to identify a senior police officer as one of her clients which, when the media found out, fed into the theories that “the establishment” had killed Dilan.

Pembroke could not believe the news as it grew. Dilan’s face was all over social media , the TV and the papers, in her Willowbridge school uniform. Pembroke congratulated himself on never having succumbed to visiting the prostitutes in the hotel. One teacher, Mr Sajid, an IT teacher, was identified as having used some of the girls at the hotel and was fired.

Radio phone-ins, podcasts, articles all dwelt on Dilan. Pembroke’s pupils, some of whom had bullied Dilan, soon had “I am Dilan” profiles on social media. Dilan Barzini had been missed by nobody when she disappeared but was now momentarily famous throughout the land. He grew nervous at the visible return of the investigation. It was October when he was interviewed again by the police, but by now she had been missing for ten months and what little evidence there had been had now dissipated.

He did not tell Dilan any of this. The fact that no one had missed her had genuinely seemed to demoralise her; and caused her to accept her fate. He also did not want to concede that the outcry and determination of the nation to “find Dilan” was making him nervous. He still had the nagging fear that there might be camera footage out there of the car he had rented, or even the kidnap itself, which would lead back to him.

Kelper’s convenient suicide had helped him. The police investigation had established beyond doubt that he was present when Mertle had died in very suspicious circumstances. It was also very clear that Abdul Hasani had not drugged himself with an overdose, and after a review of Kelper’s whereabouts that day, they saw that Hasani had entered the hospital that day, and apparently never left it. It was not a huge step to then suspect Kelper of killing and successfully disposing of Dilan as well. He had scrubbed his digital footprint so that could not assist in any investigation. And so while Dilan became an icon for murdered sex trafficked girls, there was no serious investigation into her disappearance beyond that now that the prime suspect was dead.

Dilan had ‘celebrated’ her fourteenth birthday on the last day of September. The celebrations had mainly been Pembroke’s. He had brought a bottle of red wine, and ordered Dilan to lie still on the gyna table, naked, without any restraints, as he treated her to hours of oral sex. Dilan shook and sobbed with the sensations of cumming over and over again, as Pembroke gradually drained the bottle of wine between chewing, sucking and licking on her labia which took on the taste of the red wine he was drinking. Occasionally he strayed to biting and licking her inner thighs and smooth tummy, and the soles of her feet. She shook her head from side to side and tugged on her hair as she squealed. Pembroke barked at her to keep still and stop screaming, but could barely hide the smile in his voice at the convulsions he was giving her.

That night, they made love in her bed and he snored beside her, cupping her growing breasts and nestling his nose behind her ear as he spooned her. Dilan eventually fell asleep as well. She wondered how long this could go on for. Surely he would make a mistake eventually. His bear like arms cupped her body so there was no question tonight of getting out of the bed without him knowing. But as the months were starting to turn to a year she was starting to panic. He never slipped up and left any doors unlocked, nor had she ever been able to see the codes. What if she had to wait until she got old and there was no point in escaping to the outside world? What if something happened to him outside, and she was left down here to starve to death or die of thirst?

In late October, the school held a special memorial celebration of the life of Dilan. The new headmaster announced that a hall would be named after her. Several pupils mad speeches honouring her, including those who had made her life hell. Pembroke was used to the ever changing moods of teenagers but was shocked at the outpouring of emotions and tears for Dilan from pupils who had never even known her. He did note that the young innocent looking girl in the memorial photos was now a far cry from the noticeably older, taller and more developed young teenager he currently had in his basement and marvelled at how quickly the young things could grow.

Looking at a group of girls in obscenely tight, short school skirts crying together after school, Pembroke sighed to himself. He wished he could take some more with him to his basement. That evening, he ordered Dilan to wear her school uniform. It was something Dilan dreaded, she knew that he was incredibly frustrated at something and would take it out on her, either with some violence or just disgusting sexual acts. That evening he remained naked while she remained fully clothed save for her knickers, long since removed, and after making love he again slept with her in her bed, refusing her requests for her to take her shirt or at least her tie off.

Chapter 58

Dilan took the news of the deaths of Abdul, Jacko and Ronald Kelper in her stride. Pembroke had narrated to her that Kelper had killed the first two to destroy the evidence of his tryst with Dilan, and that Kelper had killed himself after Pembroke had turned in the video. He continued to omit the local and nationwide news and hunt for Dilan herself. Pembroke assured her that she was now fully forgotten, and that she was lucky compared to the three dead men.

Dilan had only the memories of her mother and the characters in the books she read, beyond the few hours when she was forced to entertain Pembroke. Constant exercises had toned her body and Pembroke marvelled at the firm buttocks of the fourteen year old as he gently massaged her body, always finding new places in her developing physique that he had now noticed previously.

Dilan had previously dreamt she was in London with her mother, reunited. She vaguely recalled her mother joking to her about Pembroke and how he had been so greedy for other girls. She could remember little else but it gave her an idea. She would try and prompt him to take another girl. He may never make a mistake with her, but he might make a mistake while taking another girl and Dilan could be free. He himself had told her of the story of Marc Dutroux, an infamous child kidnapper and enslaver, who had been caught, but whom Pembroke seemed to admire.

“Sir, am I enough for you?” she asked innocently.

“Of course, my dear, I much prefer you to the woman I am seeing at the moment. I’m sorry I’ve neglected you… have you been lonely down here?”

“No. It’s just, I wondered if you were going to take other girls? Like that man you mentioned. If you want other girls, I don’t mind. I can help you with them; I just don’t want you to forget me.”

“Interesting… why would I do that?” Pembroke was a little suspicious, as Dilan rarely showed any initiative when it came to sex at all. “What would you like me to do with other girls? Go on, tell me, and what would you do to them?”

Dilan swallowed, hoping Pembroke missed the slight hesitation. She turned around and looked into Pembroke’s eyes.

“Sir, I want someone to play with. I get lonely when you are not here. I know you like young girls and I like young girls, so maybe you could get another one in here, and we could play with her together. You are my master but I can help you train a new girl.”

Pembroke’s penis overrode his brain. He walked over to a screen, and played a DVD of lesbian porn, everything was kept carefully offline so that Dilan could not have any electronic contact with the outside world.

“Baby, I would love to see you sit on some girl’s face while I am fucking her. Tell me about the things you would do to her for me. What if she didn’t want to suck my cock how would you train her?” Pembroke rubbed her nipples and started into her face. Dilan gulped, and realised this was likely not going to lead anywhere save for more sex and accompanying fantasies.

“Sir, what about that man Kelper and his daughters? They don’t have a daddy anymore, maybe you could be their new daddy?”

“Mmm now you’re talking…” Pembroke leaned in and kissed her. He spread her legs, and pressed his penis against her opening. “Yes, that would be nice. His daughters are very pretty, like you, it would be nice to have a dark brunette and a blonde blue eyed girl. I would have you sleeping together always. You wouldn’t be lonely, any time I order it from above you will be licking each other out. Hmmm”

Pembroke began thrusting in and out of her. Before long he had cum, and lay exhausted on her in silence. Dilan had grown used to supporting his weight on her in silence while she waited for him to move. He did not say anything further and she assumed that he would just treat this as another fantasy.

Edward Pembroke, however, was dangerously starting to believe his own omnipotence. The kidnapping enslavement and training of Dilan had gone so well. His previous reservations about being too ambitious were slowly dissipating.

Edward Pembroke started to develop many hours to investigating the lives of Annelise Kelper and her two daughters Elisa and Anna. Elisa was now fifteen and Anna was thirteen. Elisa seemed to be tall and adult looking and beautiful, but Pembroke was much more drawn to Anna, the younger sister. Elisa had been the angrier of the two when they had turned on him calling him a paedo. Anna was shorter and still cute as a button. Pembroke was restricted to some social media posts, the photos he had taken on the beach a few months ago, and details of the crimes and funeral of Ronald Kelper. Ironically, he had found their address from their license plate which was captured in one of the photos he had taken of the girls, visible in the background behind their bikini clad bodies.

There were online subreddits and forums dedicated to the disappearance of Dilan Barzini which focused on Kelper. Pembroke noted that many even blamed the mother, Annelise. The family lived an hour away from Willowbridge and on his first visit on a cold dark November night he was not surprised to see a “for sale” sign. Pembroke could not see any other signs and had to drive straight home. His next stakeout was at a GP centre where Annelise worked. He was able to drive straight from his school to catch the ending of her centre, and he recognised her as she left. He wore a hat and was in his car in the dark but still bore in mind that she had seen him before, had shouted at him for spying on her daughters and witnessed her now dead husband assaulting him.

She was very different to the sun kissed blonde woman from the beach. She looked haggard and about ten years older. If she did see him she would never guess that the old man whom her husband had punched and whom she had dismissed as a disgusting paedophile, had been the one who had taken revenge and destroyed her family’s life. Her body was still trim, and when her coat opened as she opened the car door he saw she was in tight yoga pants which revealed a toned physique.

She drove off and Pembroke followed her at a distance. She drove to a gym, and Pembroke parked nearby. He sat outside waiting, thanking the cold dark weather for obscuring the obviousness with which he was tailing her. He began to imagine Annelise Kelper, the tall glamorous blonde, as the type of woman who had rejected him all his life. She was the type who would turn up her nose at him, and be disgusted at his presence. He suddenly grew to hate her. He had killed her partner, who was equally obnoxious, he assumed, and now he would target this entire beautiful blonde family.

He watched Annelise come out of the gym, her coat now opening to reveal her toned midriff. He followed her car and watched her park outside a semi detached house about a mile from the house that was signed for sale. He took a note of the address and watched the house for an hour, seeing lights go on and off.

He thought about what might happen if he was caught spying. He could say that he was genuinely hunting for Dilan’s whereabouts as a concerned former teacher. But what might happen if Annelise and the girls fingered him as the pervert who had followed them at the beach? It occurred to him that Dilan’s underwear was currently drying on the radiator in his hall, so even a brief police visit might arouse their suspicions.

That night he drove home and ordered blonde peroxide for Dilan. They had sex and slept together in the basement and Pembroke told her of his plans to dye her hair to look like the blonde women he was targeting, and his fantasies of capturing them.

“So, Dilan, I think our main target will have to be young Anna, she is a year younger than you, just as cute, and like you nice and easy for me to boss about.” He grinned at her. He didn’t mind admitting to her that her physical weakness was just that, a weakness that he enjoyed taking advantage of.

They flicked through pictures of Anna including of her bikini at the beach. “You see, when I decide to take a girl, I do my research. I’m sorry I never took more photos of you, but I hunted you well, don’t you agree?” Pembroke stuck his tongue into Dilan’s ear after whispering into it. He never stopped wanting to devour her. “Tell me how I am going to kidnap Anna. I need our advice, you’re a young girl, how can we catch this cute little fish?”

Dilan had no idea what to say. All she knew was that any attempt by Pembroke would probably fail and thus she should encourage it. “Why don’t you break into their house, sir, when they are sleeping, tie them up and take Anna out? You’re much stronger than them.”

Pembroke laughed. He was not sure how genuine Dilan was being. “Tell me what you would like to do with Anna. If she was here now, what would you say to her? Remember you are in charge, she has to do anything you want, lick your pussy, suck your tits, come on! Tell me what you want to do …”

Dilan thought. “I don’t like blonde girls. They are racist. I would like to cut her hair off.”

Pembroke inhaled. “Wow, well I am not sure I agree. Anyway you are going to be blonde soon, remember? But if we have a real blonde in here you can change your hair colour back. But I like it, I want you to train her for me. A nice little slut, her tongue for our assess, your pussy, my cock.” Pembroke got up, and ordered Dilan on her hands and knees. “Now, I want to fuck you…”

Pembroke did not know himself how seriously he was taking this second abduction plot. He reminded himself that his plot to kidnap Dilan had been half hearted and nearly abandoned right before he took her. One Saturday, he took a road trip to spy on the Kelpers’ house and brought an audio book, lunch and Sudoku to play while passing the time in the car nearby. After a few hours, he noticed the two blonde girls walking past him towards the house. They were wearing hockey outfits, and he reasoned that it was likely they were both very athletic. He googled for the school uniforms nearby and from the colours of the hockey outfits established they were still at the current school.

He turned the audio book back on, and after a quick toilet break at a nearby pub, returned to the house and waited for dark. He saw Annelise leave in her car, and decided to remain watching the house. The lights on in the house remained. An hour later, he saw a car draw up, and the mini skirted older daughter, Elisa, emerge and get into the car, which drove off. Perhaps a boyfriend?

The lights in the house remained on. Pembroke realised that Anna must be home alone. He could knock on the door and pretend to be a delivery driver. When Anna opened, he would force his way in, overpower her, gag her and tie her up. He had brought masking tape and cuffs, just in case. However, he had only intended to stake the house out for information. There were likely nosy neighbours who may already have taken down his numberplate as he had parked there for several hours. And a missing girl would be reported straight away and the CCTV signs were everywhere.

If it were not for cameras and nosy neighbours and phones, he could just force his way in, tie her up and get her into his car and drive off. How on earth did more men not do more of this decades ago? Her mother and sister might have just assumed she had gone off somewhere else. Now, her not responding to a text message for fifteen minutes would be enough to raise the alarm.

Pembroke still indulged himself by spying on the Kelpers the following week and grew to enjoy the routine. On the next Saturday, he watched their school second year hockey team play and from a distance watched Anna playing on the left wing. A single older man looked inherently suspicious at a schoolgirl match and he did not stay long.

He waited for Anna to change and guessed she would walk to her house, which was half a mile away. He had brought a special coat which could be turned inside out to a different colour and used this to reappear as he walked behind her at a discreet distance, when he saw her cut through a park. Using Google maps, he was able to drive around the park, towards the house, and waited at the far end of the park. It was miserable, wet and cold and there were few people around. He walked into the park in the direction she would be coming from. He saw no one but the soaking wet thirteen year old coming from a distance towards him, holding her hockey stick, her skirt riding high up her thighs revealing her sports shorts. Her top was soaked and he fancied he could see through it to her nipples.

Anna tensed as she noticed the stranger approaching. She had guessed that her nipples would show through the wet top and wondered why, in this weather, anyone would be coming in this direction into the park.

Pembroke wondered what to do. He had not planned to abduct her today. His car was nearby. It was getting dark. He suddenly realised that he could wrestle her to the ground and drag her into some bushes. He kicked himself that he had nothing to tie her up with or gag her. If he had, he could leave her there, move the car alongside the hedge, move her through the hedge of the park into his car in the semi darkness and take off. He calculated it would take him two or three minutes to leave her, get to this car, drive it nearby, and get to her again to carry her towards it.

She was getting closer. He adopted a pleasant demeanour and prepared to smile. However, he was tensing to take his fist from this pocket, and aim it square into her stomach. This would double her up and take her breath away for a full minute especially if followed up with more blows to her abdomen. He sensed no one was around or could see but did not want to do a full 360 look around in front of her. He looked at the skinny little girl and wondered if she could be left alone untied on the ground for a few minutes while he went back to his car, drove up and tossed her in? To render her that immoveable he would have to almost kill her.

It was too late; he took his hand from his coat but only waved. “Terrible weather!” he smiled at her. Anna looked back at him scared, she did not say anything but gripped her hockey stick tightly. She stared at the wet old man, and walked past.

Pembroke walked past, and a knot in his stomach was released. Patience was a virtue, it would have been suicide to try and kidnap her now. He sighed and then, fatefully, looked back behind him.

Anna had stopped once he walked past, she suddenly recognised his face from somewhere, was he the man at the beach in the summer who had been watching her? She looked around at the same time as Pembroke, and their eyes met. Anna suddenly remembered the sly surreptitious look, and shouted out to him.

“Do I know you? Who the fuck are you?” she called out to him. Her wet face was screwed up in anger. The rain running off her body no longer seemed enticing to Pembroke but instead revealed an athletic, toned body armed with a hockey stick and suddenly he became the prey.

“No. What. I don’t know what you are talking about… er… leave me alone!” Pembroke barked back at her, and walked quickly away. He wanted to get back on the main road now and back to his car.

Anna Kelper stared at him currying away. She could not be sure it was the same man, but if it was, what did that mean? Since the tragedy had happened with her father, she had grown to hate all men. Her older sister had slept with a dozen different guys in the last month as a knee jerk response to the trauma. Anna had just been withdrawn. Annelise had recently persuaded both of them, they should move back to her own country, the Netherlands, where they could start again. Both sisters were sick of the grief and the knowledge that everyone had seen the video of their father having sex with an underaged girl.

They refused to believe he was capable of murder, but Anna now remembered her father coming to her at night, the touching when he thought she had been asleep. She was disgusted at him and every single man who looked at her.

“Fuck off. And leave me alone” she shouted out to Pembroke. Pembroke did not respond, but shuffled quickly along, and did not look back. Anna kept looking, waiting for another glimpse of his face to check against her memory of the lecherous man she and her sister had whispered about at the beach, and the same man whom her father had beaten up as he had followed her. But he did not turn back again, and disappeared behind a tree.

Pembroke made his way discreetly back to his car, soaking wet. He was shaking in his car and it took him several minutes before he was able to turn the key in the ignition and start the car up. He drove straight home and never went near the Kelpers’ town again. A few weeks later the Kelpers left the UK for good and went to live in Amsterdam.

That night, Kelper went down to the now blonde Dilan in the basement. He ordered Dilan to stand underneath the hook pulley and raised her up with a chain from her wrists. He gagged her, and refused to answer any of her questions as to what he was doing. For the first time in her captivity, he hurt her badly. He thrashed her with a cane, leaving marks all over her stomach, her hips, her buttocks and her legs. She screamed through her gag, and could not understand where this anger was coming from. Would he kill her? At one point, she stopped caring as the pain was getting too much. She begged through the gag but nothing moved the impassive granite expression on his face.

Suddenly, he stopped. She began sobbing loudly, her arms aching and her body on fire. He began to retch, and went over to the toilet, and vomited into it. After several more minutes of silence, he showered himself, released her from her bounds, and told her to take her gag out herself. While she did so, he silently left the basement, locking up behind him. She never received an explanation, but the next day he washed the blonde from her hair and told her never to mention the Kelpers again.

Chapter 59

It was now Christmas 2024. Dilan’s wounds from the beating had taken weeks to heal and he had apologised to her for it without ever giving a reason for the beating.

“Dilan, it is now a year since your capture. It’s the best thing I have ever done, the best achievement of my life. All of this… ” he gestured around them both in the basement taking in the sex and bondage equipment and the locked doors “but mainly you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wish I could give you a Christmas present you want. But freedom is out of the question, your mother is dead, and you will always have your duties to me.”

Dilan did not say anything.

“I have however, got you a friend….”

Dilan swallowed, had he successfully kidnapped another girl?

He laughed. “I helped myself to more young pussy this Christmas” he disappeared upstairs and came back down, with a tiny kitten.

“I want you to look after this little girl. Choose a name and I will call her that too. She can stay down here with you but, well it is cruel to cage a cat so sometimes she will have to be upstairs with me as well!”

Pembroke had wanted a companion for Dilan. He had grown to love her and was secure that she could not escape. He was worried that she would try and kill herself and there was little he could do to stop this if she was determined.

Other than some birds flying overhead while tried up on the sun lounger taking sun outside, Dilan had not seen another living being other than Pembroke in 12 months, unless one counted the porn actresses on a screen. She cradled the little kitty. “Thank you sir, oh thank you!”

Pembroke beamed. “Now, as your my other present….” he revealed a sexy Santa outfit for Dilan to put on. “Have a little play with your little pussy here, and in a few hours I will be back. I want to see you in this tonight!”

He left and watched on the computer screen as Dilan played with her new feline friend. He could not see any security issues; if any neighbour or visitor noticed the cat upstairs it would seem homely.

Chapter 60

The years started to pass by. Dilan grew into a beautiful young woman. She loved her cat whom she had named “Kita” which was some Arabic version of cat. She continued to respond to Pembroke’s commands and advances and their sex life continued into a more vanilla state.

Pembroke still ruled her, and never gave her a chance of escape. He still cut her down as soon as she questioned his authority or complained. Slaps to the face in anger worked, while playful spankings and whippings still aroused him. The shock collar he still used for commanding her to exercise. He loved the muscular bulges and creases of her legs brought about by hundreds of squats a day, each one done under the threat of electric shock. Constant planking and abdominal exercises meant that Dilan also had a near constant six pack when flexing, which Pembroke was as proud of as if it was his own. Which, in effect, it was.

Thanks to constant contraception, there were no pregnancy scares. Pembroke stopped piercing her though still occasionally had her dressed up according to whatever girl he had seen at school or TV which aroused his loins.

There were still thoughts of getting other girls. Pembroke had come close on a few more occasions. One such girl was an eleven year old swimming competitor whom he had seen at a competition hosted by his school. A young blonde girl named Rosie, her flat chest, her camel toe showing through her red swimsuit, had completely captured his imagination. Dilan was now growing quite large breasts and despite being still a teenager now had the body of a young adult, which Pembroke loved, but he still missed the very young girls he still watched on the dark web. What a duo Rosie would make with Dilan bossing her about?

He had told Dilan about Rosie and Dilan fed into his fantasies. She still saw his being caught on the outside as her only hope of escape back to a normality which was increasingly foreign to her.

Pembroke again tracked the girl down and spied on her. He took plenty of photographs which he later rewatched while Dilan sucked him off in the basement. Like with Anna Kelper, he did come close to a perfect scenario. He was actually carrying a kit of cuffs, gags and masking tape, while watching her house and one Sunday morning in summer watched her walk, in nothing but shorts, sandals and vest, into the park opposite. He had no idea what she was going to do there, but he drove into the park and parked in an empty lot and saw her again as she walked among some trees. There was no one else around as it was so early. He could just stop her, ask her the time or say he knew her, and fell her with some punches, tie her up and put her in his car, all with no one seeing.

However, he just watched her. He realised she was going to a little cove of trees to read a book. She seemed to have a secret place to read in. He ruefully realised that if he was not going to take her, he would have to leave before arousing suspicion, and left, taking one last longing look at her bare legs beneath her tight shorts.

He made more trips to spy on Rosie, but never again saw her by herself, and after some weeks realised he would probably now be remembered by witnesses if something were to happen t the girl, and so had to abandon her.

Another potential target had been Lily Barnes. She was the child of an alcoholic single mother and a pupil at Willowbridge high school. She joined the September after Dilan’s disappearance at eleven and drew Pembroke’s attention the following year as she grew prettier. Her father had disappeared, and had been Iraqi or Pakistani. Her mother had turned up to one parent teacher meeting drunk.

Lily was short, busty for her age, and cute with dark hair and green eyes and an elfin face. She was shy and introverted which made her a natural target for bullies, and Pembroke. Pembroke found her address easily but as it was close by he was more careful in his surveillance of the family. The plan he though most likely to work, would have to involve making both mother and daughter disappear. He had indirectly killed people before, such as Ronald Kelper, but was reluctant to do it to Lily’s mother. In the end he realised the chase was more fun than the kill and abandoned this one.

Pembroke grew a collection of gigabytes of footage of Dilan, which he was quite proud of. Years had now passed since her disappearance, and he wondered whether it would be safe to release footage of her, which would make the authorities she was still alive and probably being kept captive somewhere. The nature of the videos, which never featured anyone else on video, and numerous which featured her crying, or undergoing gratuitous practices such as being pissed on, being spanked, and being tied up, in the same basement for years on end as she grew in her teens, could lead the viewer to only one conclusion.

Finally, in 2028, he uploaded all the carefully vetted footage (for fear it would identify him) while on holiday in Turkey. It took a few months for her to be recognised and for the word to spread enough, but eventually the underworld of the internet exploded with people sharing and talking about Dilan Barzini and how she was still alive and a sex slave. The police in the UK even got involved and restarted their investigation into her disappearance, but now nearly five years later the trail was stone cold. They somehow traced the footage as being uploaded to Turkey and it was believed she was being held there, although worsening political tensions hindered any investigation.

Pembroke was thrilled at the numerous forums that grew around Dilan. Users begged each other for parts of the footage which was shared on various forums. A bizarre rumour was started about “The Red King” who had kidnapped Dilan and had her as his sex slave. The Red King was apparently Turkish and lived in Istanbul and London and Dilan had been sighted with him in New York, Bali and Cairo. Pembroke was bemused at how many lies and untruths abounded.

At school, pupils started to share footage of Dilan. Some seniors remembered her but most only knew her from online archive news articles and the plaques and dedications to her around the school. Some boys used her as a threat against the girls, who were terrified that one of their own had been snatched off the streets and unbeknown to everyone for years, had been used as a sex slave. The acceptance of her death had brought some form of closure, but the knowledge that she was alive, and videos of her being abused were being passed around and masturbated by the pupils (and some teachers) caused huge embarrassment. The school discreetly removed some of the plaques dedicated to her, and the hall stopped being referred to as ‘Dilan hall’ though the name was never formally changed.

In one class, Pembroke had walked in and been shocked to hear Dilan’s voice. “Nineteen… thank you daddy, please spank me again…! AAAgh! No please!”

What he had heard was a video of Dilan being spanked while in a latex school uniform. Pembroke took the phone from the offender, a young boy who was showing it to some horrified year 1 girls. Pembroke chastised the boy. He looked at the video briefly. He remembered taking it, it was a role-play of Dilan in school uniform, her skirt rolled up and being caned with a ruler and having to thank the out-of-shot Pembroke for each painful caning. Pembroke had wisely not released footage of her in the Willowbridge school uniform for fear it might focus any investigation too close to home.

The small eleven-twelve year old girls were in that uniform in front of them. They looked shaken at what they had been shown, and genuinely frightened. Some of the boys had used the videos to taunt the girls and boast of how they would be raped, just as Dilan had been, and, it was presumed by everyone, was still being raped right now. “Enough of that” Pembroke intoned, and he deleted the video from the phone. He smiled reassuringly at the frightened girls. If only they knew, he smiled to himself, they should be even more frightened of what could happen to them.

Of all the crazy conspiracy theories about the Red King, and Dilan’s whereabouts, no one seemed to think she was still in Willowbridge. Nor did anyone think one of her old teachers was keeping her in a basement.

Pembroke took great delight in informing Dilan of how she was now seen by the outside world. “You see, Dilan, earlier you were seen as dead, an end to a nice story. It would have been too much to let you go and spoil that ending. Now, well, I don’t even think you would want to go back into the world, even if I were to let you. Everyone that knows you is either wanking themselves over you, or laughing over you. If you ever were to go back into the world, you could not have a normal life anymore. Everyone has seen you naked everyone has seen that cute ass of yours being pummelled and even drinking up piss from the floor. Everyone you would ever meet would also see it! No, I no longer feel guilty about keeping you here, frankly, it’s for your own good that your life remains down here. Forever.”

Dilan did not overly care anymore about the outside world and its opinions. She did not have much notion of how a normal life would even be, she had lived far from a normal life before being kidnapped and held down here, anyway. She knew she still wanted out, she clung to the voices she heard when she read her books, and her invented dialogues with her mother, and hoped that one day, she would be free.

Pembroke had been forced to wake himself up since taking Dilan. His life to that point had been on auto pilot, he since realised. Keeping her safe and secure and looking after her while hiding her from the outside world demanded a level of concentration he had never needed before. The regimented way of living had changed him for the better. The ruthless attention of detail of taking care of her dirty clothes, bringing her outside for sunshine in strict bondage, never allowing her outside the basement and keeping the doors and codes locked, developed skills he never knew he had.

He impressed at work and was promoted for the first time ever. The scandal of Willowbridge had culled a lot of senior staff and he became head of the maths department. Six years after the disappearance of Dilan Barzini’s disappearance he became headmaster of the school and made his first address in the hall named after her. By this time she was less fondly remembered and the ongoing sex videos had turned many against her. She was now thought of as a little slut that was a cause of embarrassment and whatever was happening to her, was her own fault.

Dilan stayed physically healthy, and began to live in her own mind with her cat Kita and her books. Sex became automatic for her and she would without question submit to demands like to shave Pembroke’s body, lick his feet, bumhole, and even drink his piss, as her inhibitions and disgust reflexes began to disappear. She started to invent imaginary friends and began to imagine her mother with her. They would have long imaginary conversations out loud to which Pembroke would listen, fascinated. At night sometimes reality and imagination meshed and Dilan was in bed with her mother again, chatting excitedly about the future.

Chapter 61

EPILOGUE

A few months after becoming headmaster, in April 2030, Edward Pembroke was in a self driving Tesla when it collided with another self driving truck. He was killed instantly. The whole town grieved and hundreds of past pupils attended his funeral.

Three weeks after his death, a woman in her mid sixties arrived into the UK from Australia. She was Jenny Marshall, Edward Pembroke’s sister. She had not physically met her brother in over thirty years but had kept in touch periodically and she had been impressed by his late career surge. She had come to pay her respects but also deal with the sale of the house that she and Edward had grown up in. She visited the house with solicitors and explored the old rooms and noticed it all seemed so nice and modern. She looked at the stairwell, and noted to the estate agent

“We had a large basement; that must be the entrance through there. Unless it’s been filled in.”

“I couldn’t find anything about a basement, there’s nothing there” replied a young suited man, flicking through a tablet screen.

“Are you sure? The door was right there, I can’t think why he would fill it in to be honest…”

They searched and pulled up the carpet and eventually found a latch which when twisted, pulled up the door to horizontal level. It left to a stairwell, which seemed clean modern and recently used.

Jenny Marshall suddenly felt a sick pang in her heart as she remembered her childhood and her brother’s similarity to her father.

She insisted they investigate further. There seemed to be code boxes to control access to the door. Jenny Marshall’s sixth sense again told her this was urgent and they called a locksmith. He was able to break open that door only to be confronted with another even more secure door. By now, everyone had a bad feeling and the solicitor had called some young male paralegals for no other reason than safety.

Eventually, they broke through that door and into a larger basement with a cage around the door. The locksmith eventually took care of that too. In the basement was a variety of sexual equipment and a further mini room. This time he simply kicked down the door to the smaller room and about five men stormed through. On the bed they found an emaciated young woman, at deaths door, and empty food packets littering the floor. Beside her, was the thin body of a cat, itself barely moving.

Dilan Barzini survived after spending weeks in hospital, as did the cat. She was now nineteen years of age but healthy apart from recovering from near starvation. Her case provoked worldwide sensation. Edward Pembroke’s capture and imprisonment of Dilan Barzini seemed to have been the perfect crime. Investigators going back over the case could not find anything that could have pointed to Pembroke. He had been called a ‘creep’ by some people in his youth but this was only after his name had already been blackened all over the media. Some past pupils labelled him creepy but this could be said about every teacher especially when they only became known after something like this.

Police eventually seized weeks’ worth of video footage of Dilan, as well as footage of the blackmail video of Ronald Kelper. But they could find nothing to tie Kelper and Pembroke together nor to Abdul Hasani and his associates. It was described as the strangest perfect crime.

The house was demolished and the site sold to be rebuilt on. Dilan avoided media interest, and accepted an invitation to come and live with Jenny Marshall in Australia where she provided her with a job and a place to stay, with her cat Kita. Dilan even became legally adopted and took the last name Marshall. Dilan used her years of self study alone and trained to be a psychotherapist. She chose to avoid men as much as possible and married a woman and they used the same sperm donor to conceive a child each. Dilan had her son and named him ‘Amal’ – the Arabic word for hope.

Dilan lived the rest of her life in Australia avoiding contact with her extended family. She threw herself into rape rehabilitation as a career after finding she could not avoid being known as a survivor of what she had gone through, especially with so much of the footage of her being out there forever. She could only hope that she and her new family would live in new world where bad things like that would no longer happen.

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