Chapter 31

Rodney Jackson’s life was being turned upside down after being released pending investigation. News of his previous conviction and allegations of child pornography possession were enough, on their own, for vandals to daub ‘paedo’ on his house.

Sophie had become a media sensation since her disappearance and the press were hungry for any leads. Frustration had been growing with the lack of a body being recovered and the hunt was on for a murderer.

Jackson could not convince the police had had nothing to do with Sophie’s disappearance. “Why would I even have told you I saw her in the first place? If I hadn’t then none of this would have happened to me!”

His wife had left him, and when he eventually, after two nights in a police cell, claimed he was with a 15 year old schoolgirl girlfriend all day, the police were not inclined to believe him. Especially when Selina denied it out of embarrassment, and then told police that she thought he might have killed Sophie. Selina herself had come to believe the rumours that Jackson had killed Sophie. If not him, then who?

Jackson had lost his girlfriend, his wife, his job, would lose his home and was losing his friends. His parents had been disgusted by the child pornography possession charges.

His one solace had been his solicitor, an attractive young Asian woman, Yasmin Chopra. She had been disgusted after viewing the porn he had been caught with but knew she had to fight his corner. But Jackson made her skin crawl. Their professional relationship was already on edge after she caught him staring at her ass as she had bent over to pick some papers in the interview room. ‘How could he still perv over a woman in his current situation, what kind of sick out of control libido does he have?’

It had been a week after his arrest, and he had been in out of the police station several times. He had one brief stint in the main section of a prison where he had faced the wrath of inmates baying for his blood. His one hope that this woman, Yasmin, could help him somehow avoid prison.

Yasmin entered the interview room with the same air of professionalism she always had. Her tailored skirt and blazer, glasses, and neatly pinned hair gave her an aura of authority. Rodney Jackson, on the other hand, looked worn down, his shoulders slumped and his eyes darting around as if he expected trouble at any moment.

“Good afternoon, Rodney,” she said as she sat across from him. “How are you holding up?”

He let out a bitter laugh. “How do you think I’m holding up? My life’s a complete mess. They dragged my name through the mud, my house is vandalized, my wife left me, and even my girlfriend has turned against me. It can’t get much worse.”

“Rodney,” Yasmin said with a hint of disapproval, “you shouldn’t refer to Selina as your girlfriend. She’s a minor, and besides, she’s not on your side right now.”

He shrugged. “Right, right. Another bitter ex, huh?” He chuckled, but it was a hollow sound.

Yasmin was visibly exasperated. “Rodney, she’s only fifteen. Anyway, let’s focus on the main issue. I have some news that might offer a bit of relief. The police have all but conceded that there’s not enough evidence to charge you in connection with Sophie’s disappearance.”

“Are you serious?” Rodney’s eyes widened. “They put me through hell for nothing?”

“Unfortunately,” Yasmin replied, her voice measured, “it appears that your past conviction, along with the public attention surrounding Sophie’s case, made you a prime suspect. But from a legal standpoint, there’s no solid evidence to link you to her disappearance. The case against you is collapsing.”

“I can’t believe it,” Rodney muttered, rubbing his forehead with his palm. “I’ve lost my job, my family, and everyone still thinks I did something to that girl.”

“I know,” Yasmin said sympathetically. “It’s not fair. But the fact that they won’t be charging you should help. At least officially, you’re not considered guilty of anything related to Sophie.”

“And what about the other charges?” Rodney asked. “The ones about the ... you know, the other stuff?”

Yasmin frowned. “Those charges are separate and still under investigation. Given the serious nature of the accusations and the public attention, the police are pursuing them aggressively. They say they have a statement from Selina alleging abuse.”

“Abuse? What the hell?” Rodney looked genuinely baffled. “Even if I’m not charged over Sophie, everyone thinks I’m guilty. I can’t even walk down the street without people yelling at me.”

Yasmin’s expression turned stern as Rodney reached across the table and placed his hand on hers. “Rodney, that’s inappropriate,” she said, quickly withdrawing her hand. “I’m here out of professional obligation. If you touch me again, I’ll have to call an officer.”

Rodney sighed. “Sorry” he mumbled. He couldn’t help but be a creep, even his own lawyer hated him.

Elsewhere, Teresa’s hands were clenched into tight fists, her knuckles white with rage. The news programme was showing the latest updates on the Rodney Jackson investigation, and it was all she could do to keep from throwing something at the screen. Jenny sat beside her, her arm wrapped around her mother’s shoulders, providing what little comfort she could.

“That fucking animal,” Teresa muttered, tears welling in her eyes. “I know he did something to our Sophie.”

Jenny tightened her grip on her mother, trying to soothe her. “We don’t know yet, Mum,” she said softly. “The police are still looking. Maybe ... maybe if he has her hidden somewhere, they’ll find her. As long as there’s no body, I’m not going to believe she’s dead.”

Teresa shook her head, her tears flowing freely now. “I just don’t understand how this could happen,” she said, her voice breaking. “She was just going to school. How could someone just take her? How could he take my little girl?”

Jenny felt a lump forming in her throat, but she tried to stay strong for her mother. “We have to stay hopeful, Mum. The police are doing everything they can. Maybe they’ll find her soon, and we can put this nightmare behind us.”

Teresa sobbed into her hands. “I don’t know if I can take it, Jenny. Every day, not knowing ... it’s tearing me apart.”

Jenny pulled her mother closer. “I know, Mum. I feel it too. But we have to stay strong for Sophie. We can’t give up on her. She wouldn’t give up on us.”

Teresa nodded through her tears, but the look in her eyes was one of anguish and uncertainty. “I just want her back,” she said. “I don’t care what it takes. I just want her back.”

Jenny held her mother, knowing that words alone couldn’t mend the pain they both felt. The news programme droned on in the background, but all they could think about was Sophie—where she was, if she was safe, and whether they’d ever see her again.

Just a few miles away, Edward Pembroke luxuriated in a well-earned pint after another fat paycheck day. His week’s contract work amounted to more than Teresa and Jenny earned in months. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

He surveyed the laughter of young people basking in the London summer. He watched young girls twirl in their summer dresses, their carefree joy a stark contrast to the burdens etched on Teresa and Jenny’s faces, not to mention young Sophie. One girl caught his eye, in a polka dot red dress, looking like it would blow up, Marilyn Blow style, at any second. She was smiled and laughing and her friends, and Pembroke could not help but smile as he watched her. It was ironic, he thought, her smile attracted her to him and yet everything he wanted to do to her would erase that smile from her forever.

He thought of the red polka dot dress that evening as he masturbated furiously on his sofa. He needed to cum. After getting his release, he soon recovered and made his way down to the basement.

Sophie was once again devoid of any sign of the radiant happiness of summer. She had not seen sunlight in weeks and was sitting against the wall in her cell in blue vest and knickers. Her eyes turned to Pembroke, vacant and lifeless.

“Now Sophie, time for your competition, excited?” He practically vibrated with an unnatural glee. “I certainly hope you succeed. It is rather nice to see that pretty face unmarred for once, wouldn’t you say?”

Sophie rose mechanically, her despair a heavy cloak around her. She offered no resistance as Pembroke yanked open the cell door.

“Stand up straight, girl!” he barked, a cruel parody of a teacher correcting a pupil. A stinging slap landed on her bottom as she shuffled out, the pain a brief, unwelcome spark in her numb world.

“Now, listen up,” he continued, his voice laced with sadistic glee. “I have a little timer here, for an hour to be precise. It’ll give a warning – ten minutes left, five minutes left, one minute left. Just to add to the tension, you see! No need to look up, you’ll be far too busy concentrating on the lovely task at hand...”

He took off his dressing gown to reveal his naked body, and lay back on the bed with his legs spread, knees up and far apart. Sophie stared at his flaccid cock, his heavy balls and his taint, relatively hairless since he had started shaving down there. Part of her felt good that she was ale to push herself to do this. Another part of her felt dead. A month ago, what would she have thought of a girl who did not throw up at the sight of what was in front of her. Had she not told herself, as Pembroke had often cheerfully reminded her, that she would kill herself rather than be with someone as ugly as him when she was older? And now she, a pretty young girl, faced a life of this...

“Your time has started. Get that mouth working!”

Sophie dropped to her knees and fondled his balls and pulled back his foreskin to try and get an erection. The bastard, why was he not hard? Was he trying to sabotage her?

Pembroke lay back, he would always enjoy having a young tongue slave away between his legs. He closed his eyes and thought of the girl in the red polka dot dress again. Soon he was hard and Sophie was bobbing her head up and down. The oral sex trainer he had built had helped her get rid of her gag reflex and build her stamina, but she had yet to really master the suction and other skills such as tickling and licking the right places that the best escorts had. Well, she had all the time in the world to learn, he smiled to himself.

Time ticked by, Sophie took a break from sucking by sucking and licking on his balls. On the ‘fifteen minute mark’ she started panicking and sucked harder. Pembroke was starting to feel some discomfort. He pulled Sophie off and gave her a light slap across the face, enough to shock her and knock her head violently to the side. “Gentle, not too hard, remember”

Sophie moderated herself, and in desperation first licked his asshole then pushed her index finger in as far as it would go, knowing he loved it, and slid her tongue around the slit on his helmet.

Pembroke really, really wanted her to fail. He had not spent hours reading on torture techniques for nothing. He thought of anything that would put him off cumming, like his mother, and helping her in the shower. But her finger on his prostrate and her furious suction skills were starting to have an effect. He was going to cum!

One minute left, he tried thinking of anything disgusting and bit into his finger to stop himself from cumming. But he could almost feel the cum rising from his balls!

Sophie could feel his cock twitching. At last! Her jaw was really hurting and her tongue was burning, but only a few seconds more surely...

‘Beep, beep, beep... ‘

“Awwww” Pembroke pushed Sophie off him, and cupped is balls, thinking her might still cum there and then. “Oh ... my God ... that was good Sophie but ... you failed”

Sophie had been pushed back on to her back but got back up calmly, she was getting used to the causal violence. She was sure he had done everything he could to stop cumming, she could almost feel the salty cum in her mouth.

“I’m sorry daddy, maybe a few minutes more?”

“No, you failed. You are going to get punished.”

Tears welled silently in Sophie’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks in a muffled sob. She twisted a strand of her fiery red hair, the once vibrant curls now matted and tangled, clutching it in her hand as if it were a lifeline.

“I am going upstairs, now you go into the position, Oh ... I can’t remember the name, face the wall, stand up, stick your bum out, and put your hands against the wall above your head. And stay like that until I get back down. I will be watching the whole time, if you move you’ll be beaten, on top of your punishment!”

Pembroke returned, pleased to see her arched back as was leaning against the wall. He was excited to start on this punishment. He had been following the news and had been very interested in the concept of ‘waterboarding’ which had been used to interrogate Islamic terrorists. Until recently he would never have imagined that he would be one of a privileged few who could practice it on another human being with impunity.

He brought a chair behind Sophie, and attached restraints to the legs and arms. Sophie turned her head to look.

“Face the wall! Mind your own business for now”

Sophie turned quickly back to the wall, breathing quicker. What on earth was this? Please make it just a spanking...

“Now turn around and sit on the chair.”

Sophie turned around and saw a chair with a bucket of water next to it. She walked slowly to the chair, and sat down.

“Arms on the rests, let me tie you down.”

She tried to breathe through her nose to calm herself. There was no point in complaining, maybe if she said something it might make this punishment go quicker and easier.

“I promise I will do better next time daddy.”

“Oh you will, after this.”

Her wrists and ankles were secured with clicks of plastic bindings, “daddy, what are you doing?” Sophie tested the bindings, she could find nothing in Pembroke’s face except cold efficiency.

Pembroke produced a length of thick cloth, dunked it unceremoniously in the ice water, then wrung it out with practiced ease. Was he going to wash her with cold water?

The cold, wet rag came up fast, shoved brutally over Sophie’s face. Another hand clamped down on the back of her head, forcing her back against the rough wood of the chair. The world tilted, her body a helpless puppet. Sophie strained against the bindings, a silent roar trapped in her chest.

Then came the water. Not a torrent, but a measured pour directly onto the cloth. Sophie’s gasp became a choked gurgle, the room spinning as her fight for air turned primal. Every desperate inhale sent a fresh wave of icy water into her nose and lungs, the burning sensation intensifying with each panicked breath. Her body convulsed, the urge to fight a losing battle against the weight holding her down. Everything narrowed to a single, agonizing point - the need to breathe.

Her vision dimmed, and she struggled to focus. She thought of a random Biology class she once had where a teacher had taught them about birds hunting fish in water, then she and her mum shopping in a clothes store. The strangest most random memories would be her final thoughts.