Amazing Grace
Copyright© 2025 by Edward Pembroke
Chapter 31
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 31 - 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 ft/ft Fa/ft Teenagers Blackmail NonConsensual Rape Reluctant Slavery Heterosexual Fiction Crime Incest Mother Daughter BDSM MaleDom Rough Sadistic Spanking Torture Group Sex Anal Sex Analingus Enema Facial Masturbation Pegging Sex Toys Spitting Squirting Voyeurism Water Sports Menstrual Play Small Breasts Violence
The girls had no way of knowing what time it was.
The lights were low in the cell, the main source of light being just one screen next to one of the walls pulsing with hardcore lesbian pornography on a loop. The volume was low but audible, a constant reminder to the girls what was expected of them.
It could have been 2am or 3pm; it made no difference. Time had dissolved into a blur of fear and exhaustion. All they knew was that Pembroke wasn’t there, but he could return whenever he wanted.
Leila hadn’t slept well, not even by the standards of what passed for sleep in this place. She knew it had been roughly a week since she had been kidnapped but it felt like three months.
She lay on the bench, her body curled into a tight, ball, knees pulled up to her chest, her black vest clinging to her torso, her black panties riding up her ass crack. A new tampon sat heavy and uncomfortable inside her. She looked at the cameras, monitoring her, feeling watched all the time.
Not just by the cameras, on the far side of the bench, Grace lay propped up on one elbow, in white vest and knickers, her gaze fixed on Leila’s exposed buttocks, the way the black fabric of her panties vanished into the shadowed cleft between her cheeks.
“Hey Leila” she called out softly, wondering if she was asleep.
Leila’s eyes were open, burning with dried tears. She waited for half a minute before deciding to answer.
“What is it?”
“Do you find it hard to sleep?”
“Of course. How the fuck can I sleep here. It’s hell.” Leila answered tersely, her buttocks visibly tensing.
“I’d love to help you ... cope with this. If we get on we can maybe ... make it ... bearable?” Grace raised her tone at the end hopefully.
Leila just stayed quiet, her tongue still tasting the blonde girl’s cunt and asshole, loathing herself for having degraded herself so. She didn’t respond.
---------- Hours more passed.
Leila had to go to the toilet, grateful that Grace turned away while she changed her tampon and tinkled in the bowl.
Leila swallowed hard, her fingers twisting in the hem of her vest. “I’m sorry. For being ... rude. And I’m sorry about your mother ... I should be ... more understanding. But when I look at you, I...” She cut herself off. “I’m sorry. I can’t ... It’s just...”
She pressed her forehead to her knees, her words muffled but raw. “I don’t want to end up like you. I’m sorry.”
Grace stiffened. ““What do you mean by that?”
Leila lifted her head, her dark eyes meeting Grace’s. “You ... he uses you ... and you just let him.”
Grace felt something familiar, when she got bullied at school. She had never figured Leila for a bully like the others. She felt her anger rising.
“Yes. And he will use you. You think you’re special because he hasn’t fucked you yet? It’s cos you’re on your period, and I didn’t see you fight back when you put your tongue up my ass!”
Leila’s face burned. “Look at this!” She pointed to the bruising around her eye. “I’m not going to...”
“But you did,” Grace interrupted, her voice prim, almost amused. “Just like me.”
A sick thought slithered into Leila’s mind. “This suits you. I bet you got walked all over at school. You’ve been here a year ... I think you like it here.” She then though something even worse, and glared at her. “Did you ... ask him to kidnap me?”
Grace’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? I don’t even know who you are!”
“You were licking my pussy when I got here!” Leila snapped. “I thought he was lying, but you’re just ... you’re a pervert. You’re just weak!”
Grace’s face crumpled. “No...” Her voice broke, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be here. I miss my mummy ... just like you ... just because I don’t ... well ... what can I do? I’m weak, he’s strong ... I can’t do anything!”
Leila waited, her anger draining as quickly as it had come. “Okay, Grace. I’m sorry.” She reached out hesitantly, her voice softer now. “Just ... we have to get out of here. You have to help me, okay?”
Grace wiped her face with the back of her hand, her voice trembling. “Leila ... I’m sorry, but we can’t talk about these things. The master will hear ... It’s no use, anyway” she continued. “You can’t escape. It’s best just to ... try and live with it.”
“No.” Leila stood abruptly, her hands gripping the cell door handle, rattling it uselessly. “I can’t. I won’t! I’ll bite his fucking cock off if I have to suck it. I won’t be a slave!”
Grace sighed. She felt so guilty, but she knew there was no use in trying to escape, or resisting. Just living out the monster’s sick fantasies, possible for the rest of her life.
---------- The South Wales Police had endured a tough week. The disappearance of Leila Yildiz, especially against the backdrop of recent child abductions, had cast a harsh light on their competence. How could they have found no clues?
Superintendent Jones felt the weight of failure pressing on him. The girl’s bedroom had yielded nothing. The surrounding countryside offered no hint, any footprints that might have existed had long since been washed away by rain. They had scoured miles around, checking gullies and crevices, but there was no trace.
No one wanted to speak the word abduction, but with every passing day and no body found, the possibility loomed larger.
At last, though, there was a sliver of hope. CCTV coverage in the area was scant, but a volunteer had brought forward footage from their car’s dash-mounted camera. At 5am, a white van had been seen passing by the farmhouse. Nothing unusual— until the registration was checked. The van belonged to Ibrahim Majid, a convicted sex offender.
Jones called in his team. The air in the briefing room was thick with expectation; after days of despair, they finally felt they had something. Perhaps the something.
“Here’s his address,” Jones said, pointing at the map. “We’re going in hard. If the girl’s alive, this might be our chance.”
The suspect’s flat was in a dingy corner of Cardiff, more than an hour’s drive from the isolated farmhouse where Leila had vanished.
Jones watched his officers strap on gear, their faces taut with determination. “Good luck,” he muttered, as the team moved out to make the arrest.
---------- Edward Pembroke’s gaze lingered on the young girl in the church choir, her dark hair and slim frame eerily reminiscent of Leila. The black dress she wore was modest, but the pantyhose clinging to her legs excited him. He imagined her naked, her sweet singing voice replaced by squeals of pain as a whip bit into her skin. He shifted in his seat, his fingers flexing with anticipation, as he imagined how he might...
““Oh, Edward, enjoying Betty’s singing?”
It was Mrs. Sarah Routledge, the tireless community organiser. She beamed with pride. “Betty’s my granddaughter. I couldn’t be prouder of her.”
Sarah was a silver-haired, buxom woman who, since Pembroke’s wife had died, had occasionally hinted at a closer interest in him. Pembroke, for his part, had never encouraged the idea.
“Err ... yes. She has a fine ... voice,” Pembroke replied, clearing his throat and glancing away. “How are you these days, Sarah?”
“Very well, thank you. Tell me ... have you done any more work on the Grace Perkins case? I saw on the news they’ve arrested someone about the girl in Wales. That’s hopeful, isn’t it? Maybe it means these bastards out there snatching children will finally get what’s coming to them. Maybe even poor Grace...”
“Well indeed,” Pembroke said smoothly. “It’s good the police have moved fast on this one. Something has to be done.”
Sarah’s face hardened. “Oh yes. These immigrants...” She spat the word. “Somali, Egyptian, whatever. Probably the same type that took Grace Perkins. Shouldn’t even be in the country.”
Her eyes softened a moment later as Betty came bouncing up, cheeks flushed from the recital.
“Hello, Granny! Did you like it?” She grinned, braces glinting as her dark curls tumbled over her shoulders. Pembroke smiled at the similarity with Leila.
“Oh, Betty, you were marvellous!” Sarah clasped her hands together.
“Granny, can I go to the roller disco with my friends now? Please?”
Sarah’s expression tightened. She eyed her granddaughter’s short dress and tights with disapproval. “Betty ... I’m not sure it’s safe at this time of night. How will you get there?”
“We can walk through the park, it’s not far,” Betty said, hopeful.
“Betty, no...” Sarah began, then cut herself off. “You heard on the news. It isn’t safe for young girls.”
“Granny, please.”
Pembroke stepped forward gallantly. “I can give the girls a lift,” he said smoothly. “It’s only a short drive. I’ll drop them right at the rink.”
“Oh, Edward, you are a gentleman,” Sarah cooed, relief flooding her features. “That would be lovely.”
The arrangement was made in minutes. Pembroke watched as the girls climbed into the back of his car, oblivious to their flashing of their panties as their skirts rose up, their chatter bright and careless. Sarah continued to murmur her thanks as she waved them off.
Inside the car, Pembroke listened. Not to the words so much as the small details that teenagers let slip when they felt safe: where they lived, what time they usually returned, the name of the route they took through the park.
He checked the rear-view mirror more than he needed to. The girls laughed about school, about music, about a boy named Tom who had said something silly in drama class.
Pembroke smiled at the scene. The girls were so alike his slaves, yet free and happy and blissfully unaware of the evil presence nearby. It was a pity they were so local, might provoke suspicions, still, it was nice to have options, and to daydream about one of these girls someday soon being on the news, as well as in a cell in his basement.
---------- Leila had been pacing the same twenty feet of the cell for what felt like an eternity, shaking with restless energy. Sleep was impossible. She couldn’t stay still. She was trapped in this suffocating space with her fellow prisoner, and escape seemed impossible.
“Leila, why don’t you try and sleep?” Grace’s voice was thick with exhaustion, her head resting on the bench.
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