Chapter 10

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.

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.”