Chapter 17

As he entered his own abode, things got a lot more real for Edward Pembroke. His knees were shaking as he brought the van to a stop inside his garage. He closed the doors, hoping that nobody would have noticed it pull in.

He went to the wooden box in the back and opened it. He could hear and see the black sack rise and fall with the breath of the girl inside and heard her whimpering. She could wait, he thought. He went into his house, and by habit went straight to his mother, who was sleeping on her chair. “Hello mother” he said, “let’s get you sorted.” He took his mother to the toilet and helped change her clothes and wipe her. It was not pleasant, but he knew he would have to do this for another, different human being very soon.

He winced as he looked at himself in the mirror. Long scratch marks marked his face that might stay there for days. He was so glad he was off school for summer. He had some makeup as part of his disguise portfolio, and after tentatively applying some concealer he realised he could hide it adequately. As long as he did not mix with people he knew well, it was likely no one would notice. And Pembroke had no close friends.

For Sophie, the sound of the driver leaving the vehicle and the van engine’s silence was ominous —she knew this could be the end of the line. The quiet pressed down on her, amplifying the pain that throbbed through her legs, arms, torso, and face. Each breath felt harder than the last, the gag in her mouth stifling the air she needed. Panic gripped her chest, making it even worse. Blindfolded and alone, she strained to hear any sound, but there was nothing.

The emptiness around her felt like a trap closing in. In the darkness, she fumbled with trembling fingers, desperately searching for anything she could use to get out of her bounds.

Pembroke opened up the van door. The wooden box looked like a coffin, which it may well have become for Sophie. He looked first for the detritus around the van. He scooped up the remaining zip ties, the bag containing her clothes, and the pieces of her laptop. He had checked the make, like most laptops it did not have an automatic tracking ability.

He looked at the time. It was a little before 1 O’clock. With luck, the school would not have contacted her mother and no one would yet have raised the alarm she was missing. So much had happened for him and young Sophie, and it was only lunchtime.

Pembroke took a dolly from his garage, and pulled the wooden box out of the van, propped it upright, and wheeled it out of the garage towards his house.

The sudden creak of van doors opening sent a jolt through Sophie’s body. The sounds of shuffling movement grew from outside the box. Then, without warning, the box lurched backward, and her head smacked into the top as it shifted. The force of the movement made her ears ring, and the sudden jolt of pain heightened her fear.

Before she could brace herself, the box tilted vertically, a sickening motion that made her stomach lurch. It felt precarious, as if it could tip over at any moment, sending her crashing to the ground. She felt her container moving over unsteady ground as if it were now on wheels, but still she could not see a thing nor was there any voice outside, a grim reminder that whatever was happening next was out of her control.

Pembroke wheeled the box towards his back door and carefully pulled it up over the step and in through his door. He could feel Sophie inside moving from side to side, nearly causing it to fall over which would injure her even more. He held it steady and continued wheeling it through his home. His mother remained impassively staring from her chair as the wooden box passed in front of her.

Transporting the box down the steps to the basement would be too much. He locked his back door to stop any unwelcome visitors, and prepared himself for the next bit. He opened up the box, and looked at the writhing, mewing girl only partly visible under the sack wrapped around her. She had long since stopped making loud noises and only the loud gasping of her breath echoed around his hallway. The smell however was repulsive.

Carrying a fair young captured maiden to her new abode had been a nice fantasy but he was always prepared for the reality that Sophie would not be in the best shape after being brutally kidnapped. He picked her up in his arms. Sophie flinched at the human touch as she was lifted in mid air. Her head was covered and she still could not see anything other than the sense of bright light and heavy breathing from whomever was holding her. Feeling helpless she went limp, as Pembroke carried her carefully down the stairs, down through the two open and inviting doors, to his basement; her new home.

The basement/dungeon was still a work in progress. The cell in the corner was complete, but his workplace was still cluttered and sealed off with a large shower-type curtain around it in the opposite corner facing the cell. There were two showers, one in the cell, and one from the wall just outside it. Pembroke carefully set Sophie down underneath the latter. He did not release her other than unzipping the bag. Her head was still hooded but her body was exposed. Pembroke could see her top still clothed in her blouse and bra. Her hands still tied behind her back. Her legs were bare other than her blue panties. He turned on the shower. It was ice cold, there would be time for comfort later.

He reached down to her hip, and impulsively gripped the panties with both hands and pulled with all his strength like he was the incredible hulk. Growling, he managed to tear them apart and then rip them off her. He then pointed the shower at her bare crotch, cleaning the filth away as it circled the drain and rinsed her torn panties. Methodically he power hosed her buttocks and bare crack and pussy before peeling her away from the shower area and turning off the shower.

Sophie had felt her fear spike when the sack came off her body as she felt her bare legs exposed. She bit down in terror on her gag as she felt rough hands yank at her panties to the animalistic growling of her captor, and the tearing sound as they came off seemed to reverberate in whatever room she was in. Now naked from the waist down, she hyperventilated, thinking now it would happen; now she would be raped. Bracing herself for that, she was not prepared for the ice cold stream of water that hit her skin and her eyes popped out of her head in the darkness as her body felt like it was attacked by a thousand icy knives.

Pembroke still did not speak. The hooded girl was still anonymous to him and this was not a particularly pleasant task. He did not want this to be his introduction. Instead, he picked a towel and rubbed rubbed around her crotch and between her legs. Her red pubic hair indicated she had not shaved for the meeting with Stanley. He made a note to punish her for this.

The wet torn panties were thrown in a rubbish bin. He went to some drawers and took out a clean, fresh pair of white panties, with slight purple lining and bow at the front. He sniffed them, they had no scent of course, at least not yet. He went back to the gargling figure prone on the ground, and with a knife, cut off her ankle ties.

Sophie felt her ankles become free, but she was too tired and sore to do much with her legs. They were cramped and bruised and she put up little resistance as she felt the stranger put on a pair of panties through her feet and pulled them up over her crotch. She squeezed her thighs together, to feel the cotton between her legs and she felt a little safer.

Pembroke disappeared upstairs. In the silence, Sophie remained on the ground. She could move her legs, but could barely sit up. She could not see, for all she knew he was still there. What should she even try to do?

She heard steps approaching. Pembroke had brought down her things including the rest of her school uniform, and some medicine.

He saw her body jump and her spine distend in agony as he swabbed her bloody knees with antisceptic. He peeled her socks off and checked her feet were OK. It was as his hands moved north of her knees around her crotch and over her pelvis to assess her abdomen that his libido awoke. He could barely believe he was touching the object of his desire, he glided his hand along her smooth slim thighs and along the ridges of her hips and traced a finger along her concave belly very lightly, as if it were a dream and if he touched her too strongly he would wake up.

She tried to kick him away, and he quickly moved one leg over her thighs which immediately blocked all movement. He spotted bruising over her stomach, he hoped he had not injured her badly internally. He had punched her pretty hard and her slim tiny waist looked so delicate compared to the punching bag he had been used to. He poked his finger into her belly button and imagined with enough force he could burrow his way through her. Her rippling tummy muscles were like a little storm of tight flesh reacting to his touch.

He snapped out of it and checked his watch. He was not out of the woods yet. He ran his hands over her back and her breasts to check for wounds. Her elbows were bloody as were her hands and they were swabbed too. Her neck was red from where he had throttled and might be heavily bruised tomorrow. Her face was still hooded.

He quickly grabbed her skirt, pulled it up over her hips and fastened it. He pulled her to her feet and marched her into the cell. He sat her down on her cell bench and paused to fix his hair in a last minute bid to make himself look reasonably presentable.

Her hood was ripped off, and blinding light flooded Sophie’s senses. Her eyes stung from the sudden burst of brightness, everything blurred from the disorienting hours spent in darkness. She squinted, tears welling up as her vision struggled to adjust. Slowly, shapes came into focus. The first thing she saw was the hulking silhouette looming over her.

The man seemed to be a towering brute, dressed in black from head to toe. His belly bulged beneath his shirt, while his shoulders were broad like a builder’s. His arms, looked to Sophie to be as thick as tree trunks, ending in massive hands, each finger a blunt instrument of menace. He glared down at her, nostrils flaring with each heavy breath. His mouth was twisted into a twisted grin, lips peeled back to reveal yellowing teeth. His eyes were hungry, filled with a predatory gleam.

A chill ran down Sophie’s spine as his gaze bore into her. He exuded a raw, primal aggression, as if he could snap her in two without breaking a sweat. The air around him seemed to grow colder, and each second under his glare felt like an eternity. She could not say anything through her gag.