Amazing Grace
Copyright© 2025 by Edward Pembroke
Chapter 19
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 19 - Cute young schoolgirl Grace Perkins feels that life cannot get any worse. She is bullied at school and hates her awkward young teenage body. But she reckons without the evil intentions of a vile pervert who decides to make her his target for his plan of abduction and enslavement.
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Teenagers Blackmail NonConsensual Rape Reluctant Slavery Heterosexual Fiction Crime BDSM MaleDom Rough Sadistic Spanking Torture Anal Sex Analingus Enema Facial Masturbation Pegging Sex Toys Spitting Squirting Voyeurism Water Sports Small Breasts Violence
Pembroke slouched in his armchair, legs splayed obscenely over the armrests, his thighs parted in lazy entitlement. Between them, his slave was busy at work.
She wore a nurse’s costume—cheap PVC from some Chinese manufacturer, the hem of the dress riding so high it barely skimmed the curve of her backside. White stockings clung to her legs, the seams digging into skin too young for such things, and a thong cut into her hips beneath the flimsy fabric. A red cross was plastered over the bodice and on a bonnet perched absurdly on her head.
Pembroke had clucked his tongue when he dressed her, shaking his head at how unfortunate it was that children’s costumes had to be so sexualized these days. He was joking of course. He was delighted to be able to find such a slutty costume for a 4 feet 11 flat chested fourteen year old.
Grace was licking his asshole, now a daily routine. She had gotten used to the earthy salty taste and the hairs around his ass. She found it unfair his ass was not as pristine as hers always had to be, but nothing was fair down here.
“Enough ass kissing child. Now, suck my cock. You need a lot of practice, I’ve been very tolerant so far, but soon you will be expected to make me cum with your mouth, and if you cannot, then there will be severe consequences!
Grace swallowed back the coppery tang of his ass, her throat working against the urge to retch. Her lips parted over his cock, the veined thickness filling her mouth before she could even brace herself. The head pressed against the back of her throat, salty and musk. She hollowed her cheeks, her small hands struggling to wrap around the base, fingers not quite meeting. His skin was hot and slick, the pulse of him throbbing against her tongue.
“That’s it,” Pembroke murmured, his free hand sliding down to circle her throat, not quite choking, just reminding. “Take it like a good little slave. All the way down, child. I want to feel that tight throat of yours.”
She found it hard to keep her whole mouth open for the cockhead to go to the back of her throat. No matter how she tilted her head, she couldn’t swallow him whole—her nose barely brushed his pubic hair before the thick crown jammed against her tonsils, her windpipe sealing shut.
“Stick your finger up my ass,” Pembroke ordered. “Two, if you can manage it. I want to feel you work my prostrate like a good nurse!
She pushed fumbled her fingers as she pressed one, then two, into the hot, hairy cleft of his ass. He groaned, his cock twitching deeper into her throat.
Pembroke sighed, stroking her hair almost paternally. “You’re still young. Still learning. I’m being very kind. But I have so many toys down here, Grace. And we’ve barely begun to torture you in any way.” His fingers tightened in her hair, yanking her off his cock with a wet pop. “When I’m not here, your time isn’t yours. It’s mine. I’ll be watching the footage. I want to see you practice—on dildos, your own fist, whatever it takes. You will learn to take me properly.”
Grace redoubled her efforts, her throat burning as she forced herself down again, her tongue flicking desperately over the underside of his shaft.
“Enough.” Pembroke shoved her back, his cock glistening with her saliva. “Dance for me now. And sing.” His lips curled. “Let’s see that slutty little uniform in motion.”
Grace began to sing, her small hands clutching at the hem of her nurse’s dress. The Taylor Swift lyrics felt wrong in her mouth, another cheerful memory now destroyed by its use in pleasing this ogre. She tried to blot out the happier times listening to this song as she remembered the rhythm, moving her hips to it, the PVC of her dress riding right up her legs exposing her thong underneath.
Pembroke stroked himself lazily, his cock thick and veined in his grip, his eyes dark with amusement. “Sing louder, slave,” pumping his cock. “Let me hear that pretty voice. And you must learn to dance better. I want to see that tight little ass move.”
Grace found it impossible to dance well enough to impress the monstrous pervert. For her dancing was an expression of joy, not this.
“All right, child, enough. Get your mouth back on my cock. Another hour of sucking, then I have to go. One of has a life to live outside of here!” He chuckled at the forlorn face of the young girl getting down on her knees, her stocking suspenders stretching, her thong glaring from beneath the short dress, as she leaned forward to take his cock back in her mouth.
---------- Later that evening, a well-sated Edward Pembroke stood among the elite at the Police Commissioner’s Charity Gala in his tuxedo.
“Oh, Edward!” A jewel-draped matron sidled up to him, her voice dripping with sympathetic curiosity. “We heard that poor woman in Willowbridge—Charlotte Perkins—hired you to find her daughter! That missing girl, Grace!”
Pembroke sighed, his expression a masterclass in regret. “Ah, yes. She’s ... paid me, though I’ve tried to refuse.” He shook his head, as if burdened by her misplaced trust. “Honestly, I see no case here. The girl likely ... well.” He lowered his voice. “The cliffs at Willowbridge. It seems if someone throws themselves off, he bodies just ... disappear.”
The woman gasped, “its awful!”
“What else could it be? The mother’s delusions are heartbreaking. She’s convinced Grace was taken, but—” He spread his hands. “No ransom. No witnesses. Not so much as a scrap of evidence after all this time.”
“My husband’s the commissioner there,” the woman confided, leaning in. “They’re just relieved it’s you looking into it, not some ... amateur. They agree—if there’d been foul play, they’d have found something by now. They are putting up cameras and fencing around the cliffs now.”
Pembroke nodded gravely. “Some parents simply can’t accept the truth about their children. Grace had her ... struggles. Self-harm, you know. A troubled girl. And now, a mother who’d rather chase ghosts than face facts.”
“Such a waste,” the woman sighed, shaking her head. “That poor, pretty thing—her whole life ahead of her.”
“Indeed. But one does what one can.” He raised his glass and smiled sadly.
---------- Grace knelt in her cell, the sticky PVC nurse’s uniform clinging to her sweat-slicked skin, the stockings digging into her thighs. She wasn’t allowed to take it off—Master’s orders—and the cameras above ensured he would know.
At waist height, a monstrous black dildo jutted from the glass wall, fixed there with industrial adhesive. Grace’s jaw ached as she worked her mouth over it, her gag reflex fighting her every time the bulbous head hit the back of her throat. “Practice,” Pembroke had sneered before leaving. “Hours. Until you can take me without choking.” Her saliva dripped down the shaft, pooling at the base where the heavy plastic balls hung.
The screens surrounding her cell flickered with lesbian strap-on porn—women moaning as they sucked rubber cocks, their mouths stretched wide, their throats bulging. Pembroke forbade her from seeing any males at all except him.
Then—his voice, smooth and commanding, crackled through the speakers: “Enough for now, child. Shower. Clean yourself—thoroughly. I’ll be fucking that tight little asshole of yours soon, and I expect it to be spotless. And we’ll see just how much your sucking has improved.”
Grace was grateful both to rest her mouth, and get out of her nurse’s uniform. She peeled it off, her sweaty body prickling in the air as she kicked her clothes off and ran the shower, being careful to shave herself everywhere, especially her virgin bottom, in the knowledge the monster would soon be entering it.
She used the douche and felt the now familiar flood of water bubbling up inside her. She hoped it would not hurt too much, but when thinking of his fingers and his cock, she had to admit, his cock was much bigger, how could her butt stretch that much?
She worked some fingers inside herself, hoping it would ease it all for her, before the door opened, and her master came in, dressed in, she was surprised to see, a tuxedo, looking almost respectable.
Grace emerged from the cell, glistening—water sluicing down her flushed, hairless body, her nipples tight from the chill.
“Kneel.” She dropped to her knees, the cold floor pressing into her bare knees.
“Take my cock out.”
Grace swallowed. The zipper clicked as she pulled it down, her mind flashing back to trousers of men she had known, her father, teachers, doctors. None of them had ever made her think of the shape beneath the fabric before. Now she could think of nothing else.
His cock emerged, thick and heavy, already twitching toward her lips, unwashed after hours of drinking and smelling of stale piss.
“Proceed.” He said flatly.
Grace took him deep, her jaw straining as his cock hit the back of her throat. She swirled her tongue around the ridge, lapping at the salty pre-cum, her fingers cupping his heavy balls. Now and then, she drew one into her mouth, suckling it gently before switching to the other.
His grip tightened in her hair as she hollowed her cheeks, taking him deeper, her throat fluttering around the head. “Good girl,” he growled, his hips twitching forward. She massaged his balls and did not wait to be told to slip her fingers between his legs, up his crack, searching for and finding his clenched asshole and working her way inside to massage him.
“Fuck, child, that feels great!” he groaned, his hips jerking forward in response. She kept working him, her fingers probing deeper as her mouth milked his cock.
Pembroke cupped her face and pulled her away from his cock. “Very good slave, a much improved performance! However, I want to cum in your ass now, not your mouth! Now, take my clothes off.”
Grace dropped to her knees, undoing the laces of his polished Oxfords, slipping them off one by one. The leather was still warm from his body. She hesitated only a second before peeling off his socks, the damp wool clinging slightly to his skin.
“Lick my feet, child.”
Grace was disgusted by his sweaty, smelly hairy bunioned feet, but knew better than to disobey. Her tongue was just a tool, like a mop and she had to get used to licking wherever her directed. She licked over the top and along his toes, echoing what he loved doing to her own dainty feet.
Then she was directed to take his trousers and his underpants down, before taking his jacket and shirt off. Finally, he was as naked as she was. His hands clammed around her hips, yanking her against him, his mouth crashing onto hers. The kiss was long, lingering, his tongue forcing its way past her lips, tasting of whiskey.
“I was with the cream of society tonight, my dear.” His fingers dug into her firm flesh. “But all I wanted ... was to be down here. With you.”*
“Thank you sir” replied Grace, in a deadpan way. Pembroke was a little surprised by the reply, wondering what was behind it. The normally mute young girl was glassy eyed, maybe the trauma might turn her into a real life doll.
“On the bed!” He turned her around, patted her bottom and led her to the air bed.
She gingerly lay down on the bed, anticipating him finally entering her from behind. She got on all fours.
“No, no, no,” he tutted, his hand slapping her ass cheek just hard enough to make her flinch. “On your back. Feet to your ears. Let me see that virgin hole clearly.”
She obeyed, rolling onto her back, her legs limber as she grabbed her ankles and pulled them back, spreading herself open. The position stretched her obscenely, her asshole, still fresh from the douching, fluttering and winking at him, her pussy lips parted slightly.
Pembroke smiled, slow and predatory, as he leaned in. Then—a glob of spit, thick and warm, landing right on her tight puckered hole. She jerked, but his hand pressed her hip down, holding her still.
“Mmm. So pink. So tight.” he murmured, before his tongue—hot, wet, relentless—dragged over her, lapping at the spit, circling her entrance, occasionally swabbing upwards over the slim film of her pussy lips and nibbling on her clit before going back down to tongue fucking her anus.
Grace’s head lolled back on the air bed, surrendering as her asshole released itself, letting the air and his tongue push inside. She grunted like a mule as suddenly one then two fingers pushed inside her, her ass walls regaining their resistance against intrusion.
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