Amazing Grace
Copyright© 2025 by Edward Pembroke
Chapter 5
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 5 - 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
Grace dug into her schoolbag, her fingers scrabbling for her favourite Lolububu toy, the tiny, soft bunny her mother had given her for her birthday. The class was almost starting, but Grace was panicking, she needed this one thing that made school bearable.
It was gone. Her stomach dropped. Where could it be?
A laugh bubbled up from behind her. Grace spun around. Her bully Julie stood there, grinning, twirling something familiar between her fingers.
“Looking for this?” she taunted, dangling the Lolububu bunny by one ear.
Grace’s heart leapt into her throat. “Give it back!” she lunged, but Julie yanked it away, laughing as the other girls crowded in, grinning like wolves.
“Aww, poor Gracey,” Julie mocked, holding the toy just out of reach. “Did you lose your little baby toy?”
“Please...”
“Here,” Julie said, tossing it at her feet.
Grace froze. The bunny lay there. Stained with red. A used period pad was wrapped around its tiny body, sticky and red, the fabric matted with dried blood. The stitching on its face was smeared, its soft fur clumped and ruined.
“Oh no,” Julie fake-gasped, hand flying to her mouth. “Did someone get their period on your little friend?” The girls howled, bending double, pointing as Grace dropped to her knees.
“No...” Grace’s voice broke. She reached for it, shaking. Her bunny was destroyed. Violated. Covered in something disgusting.
“Ew, don’t touch it!” one of the girls screeched, laughing. “It’s got AIDS now!”
Grace let out a sob, her whole body shaking ... The bunny stared up at her with its stained, dead eyes, and all she could do was cry.
“Aww, Gracey’s gonna hug her bloody bunny!” Julie taunted, recording it all on her phone. “Tag yourself in this, virgin!”
The laughter roared around her.
Grace clutched her stomach, she was going to be sick. She grabbed her bunny and put it in her bag, just as the teacher entered.
Meanwhile, Pembroke is in her house. She hated this life.
Meanwhile, Pembroke was again skulking around the Perkins’ house. The last few days had been very interesting. He had enjoyed and recorded hours of footage of the Perkins females, naked and in various compromising positions. Charlotte in the shower, and spread on her bed, biting her lip as she worked the vibrator between her legs, careful to keep the moans quiet, her daughter just a room away. Her buxom body arching, as she bit into her pillow, her pussy and asshole wet and exposed for his camera.
Grace was different to her mother. Delicate. Unripe. A sculpture of slim limbs and sharp bones, her ribs pressed tight beneath pale, almost translucent skin. Her chest flat save for the faintest hint of swelling, the small buds of rose-tipped nipples betraying her of pubescence. No real curves yet. No womanly softness. Just angles and awkward limbs. A faint, downy blonde fuzz of hair between her legs. She was still a child teetering on the brink of something she didn’t yet understand.
In bed, unlike her mother, she didn’t touch herself, apparently masturbation was something she had not yet learned. She just curled into her stuffed toys, her small frame swallowed by the oversized T-shirts she slept in, as she drifted into dreams blissfully unaware of the cameras recording her and the veil pervert watching her and planning her ruin.
Pembroke went straight to the laundry basket, his mind flooded with images of the knickers Grace had worn—yellow, red, lilac—each pair burned into his memory from viewing her footage.
One by one, he plucked them out. The yellow ones first—small, cotton, stained with the faintest hint of discharge. He opened his mouth, dragging the fabric over his tongue, sucking, licking, devouring the delicate, sweet tang of her pussy until the cotton was soaked with his saliva, stripped of her scent.
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