Chapter 34

Chapter 34

As his new pupils walked into the classroom, Pembroke smiled at them, welcoming them to the new term. He asked a brief question as to if anyone had got up to anything interesting over the summer. Of course, he would never reveal to them that he had kidnapped a girl of their age, whom they would all have heard of, and had been sexually abusing her constantly.

As he excitedly talked about how computers work, the girls in his class got bored and chattered and he had to tell them to shut up. Some were very loud and brash, he was scared of them. As the week wore on, as he caught more and more glimpses of schoolgirl panties up their skirts as they sat, his libido grew yet also his frustration and fear with it.

His new toy, built in front of Sophie’s cell as she watched, was a St Andrew’s cross. He was proud that most of the instruments of Sophie’s abuse were built from hand and with her measurements in mind. On the first day after school, Pembroke’s mind had been swimming all day with images of the girls in their short skirts, and their long legs tanned from the summer. He immediately ordered a school uniform of his school, green blazer, green skirt, white blouse, black socks and green and black tie.

Sophie was now onto Sense and Sensibility. But she found it hard to escape into the pages while this hulking man was loudly assembling a torture device metres from her. He had hauled her out and splayed her arms up and spread her legs to measure her against the two planks connected in an ‘X’ shape. He didn’t talk to her when he did, it was like she was a plastic thing to be manipulated. Even a pet animal would have warranted some affection.

Some of the affection was overpowering. He had licked and sucked every square inch of her body, and deep inside each of her orifices as far as his tongue could reach. Pembroke has almost memorised the folds of her pussy and now knew what tongue movement and where would make her jump and moan the most. Sophie could hardly contain herself as she squirted on his face and felt fantastic for a few seconds after she could cum. She worried, her body was starting to betray her, might her mind follow eventually? Her asshole, into which she had previously not inserted anything, or even looked at, was now a daily playground for Pembroke’s mouth, cock, fingers, and now Sophie herself. Pembroke encouraged her (with the threat of violence) to finger herself there on video for him to look at and she grew to at first tolerate, then enjoy the sensation.

There were no dildos for Sophie. Her captor preferred his own cock to be the only thing that violated her to a significant degree. While it would be wonderful to hear Sophie scream and her eyes bulge out of her head as a ten inch thick dildo went into her cervix, he did not want her pussy and asshole to be so stretched that she would lose the intense look on her face each and every time his cock plumbed the depths of her insides.

Likewise, he was careful not to put any dildo down her throat that was bigger than him. While it might have improved her skill, it would mean she would lose that gagging reflex that she got when he lost himself, and roughly grabbed her by the back of the head, and forced her face against his stomach as he felt the head of his penis squeeze down her windpipe, tickled, he imagined, by her quivering tonsils. She still threw up sometimes after such rough oral sex, and while it was of course disgusting and she had to clean it up afterwards, he did love the sound and sights of her struggling face as the vomit came up around his cock and her helpless, red and breathless face afterwards. Everything had a price, he thought.

A birch tree in a local park had provided Pembroke with a free and useful piece of discipline equipment. A small branch had been broken off and taken home and he used it on Sophie for minor infractions to immediately correct her, for instance when her fingering of his asshole was less than enthusiastic, or if she had forgotten to play with herself for the cameras at an ‘agreed’ time, and especially if he found hairs on her body which she had missed when shaving. She always held her breath as he traced a finger around her armpits, her bumhole and around her pussy lips. She knew that just a singular piece of dark red stubble would mean pain.

Pembroke loved licking all over her, and her smooth skin, when not unblemished by marks, felt delightful on his tongue as he would start from the soles of her feet, up her sinewy legs and over her buttocks and down into her crack and he would lose himself in the tastes of her private areas as she bucked and moaned. Sophie also loved the sensation of his tongue traversing her spine and ribs as it worked up her back to her neck. Not only could she not hide it when she came, she could not disguise the soft moaning and heavy breathing as he licked and kissed her there.

There was no part of her he did not love, but her hands did not particularly interest him. And so it was here that drew the attentions of the birch branch. She would have to hold her hand out, while he brought the thin branch down on her palms with a thwack. He enjoyed the look of anticipation on her face, the gritted teeth, before he hit her with it.

Sophie never got used to the pain. As soon as she felt his finger dwell slightly longer than usual on the skin around her anus, signifying he had come across an unshaved hair, or if she heard an angry sigh while sucking on his cock, she knew that her hands would bear the brunt of her infraction. She would start crying before it even hit, and as soon as it did, she clasped her hand in the other, and hopped from foot to foot in pain. The pain rose like a slow crescendo, for a minute it was unbearable, and then he would ask her to put her hand out again, for the second punishment if she had committed some other error that day.

As a result, her palms were soon permanently criss crossed with red welts. Pembroke reminded her that he did not particularly mind this and related it to her escape attempt.

“Now Sophie, you promised not only to not try and escape again, but also that you would help me keep you safe and secure, so is there anything you want to tell me? Is there anything you can think of in your cell, or the wider basement, that could be used to help you escape? What about the codes, have you seen them recently? Any ideas on preventing any other unfortunate attempts?”

She found it soul destroying to have to give him ideas on how to make this a more effective prison. She told him that as she would grow bigger, she might have more strength to open the cell door herself and that he should lock it with a key. She even advised him to put back on the fingerprint security for the cage and main door.

“Good girl. You have the right attitude, you are an obedient slave who will never escape, it should be your aim to help your daddy in this endeavour.”

He also took some twisted pleasure in reminding her about her sore hands. “You see, not only do I not find your palms that sexy, I don’t see what good they do me. They seem superfluous. What do you use them for? Shaving yourself, fingering yourself and me, holding yourself up. You know, if I broke your fingers, you might still be able to stick them up your pussy and my ass, but you wouldn’t be able to open any door handles anymore. What do you think of that?”

His request, though presented as reasonable, was anything but. The color drained from Sophie’s face. Perhaps he was joking, teasing, but how could she respond. She had presented herself as this obedient, pliant slave who would never dream of escaping or disobeying him. What reason could she give him for wanting the full function of her hands. This was ridiculous, in the outside world of course she needed them. To have a job, to play with friends, to write, to hold her future children. But if she were to spend the rest of her life, day after day, as nothing other than a lump of meat for him to fuck, what use were workable hands? She did not dare admit to him the truth. She could deal with the rapes and the torture and the beatings, but she still harboured a dream that one day she would be free. Surely, she could not spend a lifetime here? Admitting the fear of a life changing injury, was basically admitting she harboured a dream of a happy, normal life, and that would not do.

“Sir, please, I need my hands, I can use them”

“What for? I mean, I need my hands, I love grabbing every part of you down here. But I am also outside, in the free world, where I can use and enjoy my hands and the rest of me. But you ... you’re just a slave, a prisoner. Your hands are an inconvenience to me, you might use tem to escape, they are of no benefit to me, in fact, maybe if I cut of your thumbs it would make no difference to how sexy you look. But I would have to worry less about you doing something stupid...”

Sophie tried to calm herself. If she started crying or begging, it would be an admission she wanted her hands for her future. She had to be smart. She had to adapt to his whims.

“Daddy, I can massage you with my hands if you allow me full use of them still. You know I cannot escape, and I am not strong like you. But I can use my hands to massage you, maybe you can show me videos where I can learn and help you relax.”

Pembroke smiled. He had not been serious about breaking her fingers or thumbs and put the proposition to her as a test. He was not fooled, of course no one, not even a prisoner serving a life sentence, wanted their hands broken! And of course she still dreamt of freedom. But her response pleased him. Yes, he would get her to massage him, and she would have to get good at it. For now, the constant switches on her hands, which were affecting her ability to handle things anyway, were enough punishment.

“Yes, my child, good answer. I will get you to learn massage. Remember, you need to be useful to me, every part of you. There’s a reason your ass never gets whipped but your hands do, make yourself useful and sexy and I will let you be.”

Sophie sobbed later by herself. She ran her fingers over the welts on her palms, just to clench her fists brought pain. Day by day she felt her fire of life disappearing, could she just exist in this state for years, for decades?

Later that day, or so she thought, as time was a mystery to her unless Pembroke gave her a clue, they were lying together in the bed. Pembroke was in a daze of happiness after giving her another hard fucking.

“You know Sophie, when I was going to take you, one thing that really played on my mind, that I was really afraid of, was that I would be too nice. I thought I would feel guilty and let you go. I didn’t even think I could bring myself to hit you!”

He rolled onto his elbow, leaning over her as she lay on her back. His touch was light but deliberate, tracing a slow line across her collarbone. His gaze wandered from her shoulders, down her body, then back up to her eyes, his expression unreadable.

“But I have learned so much about myself these past few months. You are a lovely girl, Sophie, and I do feel sorry for you. God, your poor mum. But there is something inside me that is stronger, it’s the will to own you. I’m better than you, it’s my right to own you.” His hand on her lower rib cage suddenly pressed harder, and his cock grew hard again.

Sophie’s hands trembled slightly at her sides, and she instinctively curled them into loose fists, trying to hide her fear.

“There is no part of me that is going to let you go Sophie. You have to accept that. Part of me wants to hurt you, sometimes. But I can keep that side in check if you behave. But there is no part of me that feels sorry enough for you that I will treat you as anything more than a slave. God, you know before this I had barely hit anyone in my life, it was me that got bullied!” Pembroke turned to the ceiling, as if convening with God. “They say power tests people, well I’ve given myself power over you my dear, and I will never let it go, this is me. All those girls I deal with every day, you are going through what I want to do to them all.”