Chapter 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She remained in bed.

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

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

She nodded meekly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wasn’t he worried?”

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

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

“Sorry sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dilan and her mother had originally feared they would never leave the brothel but now worried they might have to leave. Dilan was learning about the world in relative safety and her mother was gradually emerging from the cloud of PTSD and now thinking how she and Dilan would survive and live in the outside world.

“It is a man’s world, Dilan, always remember that ... if your father was still alive our lives would be very different. We are women, we survive.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will do better next time sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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