Conclusion of Heidi’s abduction and introduction to brutal sex slavery
Barazan Sherhad’s life had disintegrated over the past few months. He had spent his entire life hiding his sexuality, carefully guarding his secret from everyone around him. But that fragile facade shattered when he was confronted online with videos of his encounters with a male prostitute, who was allegedly underage. The revelation tore his world apart. He knew that if the truth came out, his wife and children would leave him, his family would disown him, or worse—given their ultra-conservative and criminal nature—they might even kill him. The police were no option; they could not only refuse to help but might also prosecute him if the young man was indeed underage.
The shame and fear had driven him to the brink of suicide, but the vile bastards who held his secret threatened to send the footage to his family even if he died. The thought of his children growing up with that video haunting them, circulating among his relatives for years, made him so ill that he developed an ulcer.
At first, he complied with their demands for money, depleting his own savings before turning to his extended family’s funds. But the demands kept growing, escalating until he found himself an unwilling accessory to a kidnapping—the wife and daughter of Eldar Hasamov, the wealthy Azeri oil baron.
Today, however, the three men who had ensnared him in their web of blackmail made him realize this situation was far worse than just a kidnapping. As he stood before them, their true nature became terrifyingly clear. All three exuded an aura of thuggish violence, but it was the ringleader, suave and handsome on the surface, who had shown his brutal side earlier with a sudden blow to Barazan’s stomach. The attack had left him gasping for breath and filled with the sickening certainty that these men were far more dangerous than he had ever imagined—and that this might be the end for him.
He had closed then opened the restaurant just for this small time window when the pretty young blonde girl would come in. He prayed she would not be hurt, but he had already seen what had become of her mother.
Heidi’s heart stopped when she caught sight of her mother, naked and restrained on the ground. Her blonde hair was matted and disheveled, a stark contrast to the shock in her eyes as she looked up at her own daughter.
Loud Kurdish music was playing in the back room, empty but for a carpet, as if to drown out some horrible events about to unfurl.
“Well, Heidi, here is your mother, and it certainly is a surprise, don’t you think?” Pembroke smiled coldly, his hand gently stroking her wispy blonde hair as she stood frozen in shock.
“What have you done to my mother? You bastards! Let her go!” Heidi finally snapped out of her trance, anger and fear flaring up inside her. She lunged forward, desperate to reach her mother.
But as she moved, Pembroke’s grip on her hair tightened, yanking her back with a chilling ease. Her momentum was abruptly halted, and as she struggled to bring her arms up to fight him off, a flash of light seared across her vision. His other hand had come up swiftly, slapping her hard across the face. The force of the blow sent her reeling, and before she knew it, she was flat on her back, the world spinning.
Pembroke’s expression remained disturbingly calm, the charm returning to his face as he looked down at her, now dazed and vulnerable, her legs splayed and her thighs exposed beneath the hem of her dress. “What pretty pink panties I can see there,” he remarked with a chilling smile. “Perhaps I shall soon be better acquainted with them. But for now, let me help you up, as a gentleman should.”
He extended his hand, and in her dazed state, Heidi instinctively took it, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. Her head was still ringing from the blow, her vision blurry as she tried to steady herself.
“Please forgive us Heidi this must seem very confusing. I am afraid your mother was rather naughty just now, I have just been fucking her…” Pembroke moved so that his face was centimetres from the terrified girl’s face. “Do you know what ‘fucking’ means?” he bared a wolfish grin, and his fingers trailed up the front of her thighs, under her skirt and under the elastic of her knickers around her hips.
“P—pl-please don’t hurt me … d-don’t’”
“How do you think I would hurt you, my little one?” leered Pembroke. She felt his fingers pressed firmly against her bare hips, under her knicker elastic. She weakly brought her hands up in balled fists in front of her chin, but was shaking too much to do anything to defend herself.
“Are you a virgin?” Pembroke asked, his voice dripping with fake tenderness, his lips so close to hers that she could feel his breath.
Heidi avoided his eyes, her body trembling as she sobbed, her head bowed in shame and fear, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Pembroke wiped away her tears with a disturbingly gentle touch. “Don’t worry, you will still be a virgin while you’re with me,” he murmured. “But you will need to be educated. I love your innocence; it’s very attractive. Unfortunately for you, a little … too attractive.” He placed his hand under her chin and tipped her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, locked onto his, filled with terror.
“We’re going to play a few little games now,” Pembroke continued, his voice low and menacing, “and then we’ll be on our way. OK?”
Heidi could only nod, blinking away her tears, desperately praying that she might not be raped and that somehow they would let her and her mother go.
“You! Barazan!” Pembroke suddenly turned to the terrified Kurd, his voice sharp and commanding. “Take off all your clothes!”
“What? What?” Barazan stammered, his mind reeling with confusion and fear. But before he could react further, Dmitri and Nadim stepped forward, large knives glinting in their hands as they approached menacingly.
“It’s not as if we haven’t seen you naked before anyway,” Pembroke laughed cruelly. “Get your fucking clothes off, or we’ll start cutting your fingers.”
Barazan’s eyes darted frantically between the blades and the cold, merciless faces of the men closing in on him. With shaking hands, he began to remove his clothes, his dignity stripped away along with the fabric, as the room closed in on him, filled with the oppressive presence of those who held his life—and the lives of Heidi and her mother—in their cruel grip.
Heidi and her mother watched in horror as the naked man stood before them. The upbeat music playing in the background felt grotesquely out of place, amplifying the nightmarish scene unfolding before their eyes. Heidi, who had never seen a penis in real life before, recoiled at the sight of his scrawny body and flaccid cock, a wave of nausea rising in her stomach.
Meanwhile, Pembroke turned his attention to Freida, adjusting her hogtie on the ground. He finally freed her ankles from her wrists, allowing her aching back to relax. With her body no longer arched in painful restraint, Frieda was able to let her face rest on the floor, her breathing labored but slightly eased as her breasts pressed against the ground, and her legs stretched out behind her.
“Now, Frieda,” Pembroke said coldly, “I’m going to take this gag out. But listen carefully—any nonsense out of you, and I will hurt you and your daughter. No one will hear a thing anyway.”
With a calculated calmness, he removed the gag from her mouth. The moment she was free, a torrent of invective burst from Frieda, directed at the man she had been so captivated by, the man she had nearly left her husband for just over an hour ago. The bitterness in her voice was laced with shock and betrayal, her words tumbling out in a mix of fury and disbelief.
Pembroke responded with brutal force, kicking Frieda hard in the ribs, causing her to gasp in pain. Heidi screamed in panic, her voice breaking as terror gripped her. Without missing a beat, Pembroke strode over to her and slapped her across the face, sending her crashing to the ground again. He then yanked Frieda up by the hair, her body limp like a rag doll in his grasp.
“No more fucking screaming. Be quiet and do as I say. That goes for BOTH of you!” he snarled, his voice dripping with menace.
Heidi, dazed and trembling, began to pick herself up on all fours. Her skirt had ridden up, exposing the curve of her ass, drawing the leering eyes of the men in the room.
“Let my daughter go, please,” Frieda gasped, barely able to get the words out as she struggled for breath. The pain in her scalp, sides, and the agony of being tied up in such a cruel position made speaking almost impossible.
Pembroke’s response was swift and merciless. He delivered a moderate punch to her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. “You will not tell me to do anything, you fucking bitch,” he rasped, his voice dripping with venom.
The sudden shift in Pembroke’s demeanor—from a charming gentleman to a violent, feral thug—left both women paralyzed with terror. The shock of his brutality struck them into silence, their minds reeling as they tried to comprehend the nightmare they had fallen into.
Pembroke let Frieda fall to the ground, her body crumpling as she landed on her knees before collapsing face-first with a series of sickening thuds. Ignoring her groans of pain, he turned his attention to Heidi, who was still breathless and vulnerable on all fours. Without warning, he delivered a hard spank to her exposed buttock, the sharp sound echoing through the room.
“I apologize again, Heidi,” he said with mock sincerity, “but I’m afraid I must insist on obedience. It’s the only way you girls learn. Your mother isn’t taking this too well, I’m afraid.” His hand lingered on her ass, tracing the curve of her perfectly toned cheeks, parted by the slim line of pink cloth from her thong that barely concealed her most private areas.
“A thong was an excellent choice for a lovely dress like this. No visible panty lines,” Pembroke remarked, his tone disturbingly casual as he admired the fit. “You and your mother have excellent taste in underwear.”
His smile returned, the cold charm resurfacing as he left Heidi and moved back to Frieda. With a sickeningly gentle touch, he cradled her bruised face, brushing her hair away from her eyes as if he hadn’t just brutalized her moments before.
“Now, Frieda, you are much more experienced than your daughter, so I expect you to lead the way in these little games. Do you understand?”
Frieda tried to protest but was silenced by a sharp slap from Pembroke. She could taste the metallic tang of blood in her mouth.
Pembroke turned to Barazan and commanded him kneel down by her face. Despite his fear, Barazan complied and knelt before the blonde woman. “Pull her face up and force yourself into her mouth! Frieda, make sure he gets hard and suck on him!” He ordered.
Frieda wanted to throw up at the piss smelling penis was pushed against her lips, although she knew the man was forced into it. She tried to turn away. “Barazan you need to learn to control women, force her mouth open!”
Panicking Barazan pushed her jaws together squashing her face opening her mouth up and forced himself inside her wet mouth. He got zero pleasure but soon was erect inside her, conscious of the laughs from the men gloating at him.
“That is enough, Barazan well done, Now, flip her over, and get between her legs, under the loop around her ankles, yes that is it, that’s a nice hard cock you have there, good, now you to start fucking her, in the pussy, yes, that’s it!”
Heidi remained fixated, watching her mother’s rape as the older woman sobbed. Barazan’s tears dripped from his face onto hers as he pushed in and out of her.
“Frieda, sorry to distract you, my dear, but I have a question,” Pembroke said with disturbing politeness, his voice almost casual as if discussing something mundane. “I am going to remove an item of clothing from Heidi.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Shall it be her exquisite dress, or that cute little pink thong? Which one? You choose. Or, if you prefer not to decide, I’ll simply take both.”
Frieda’s mind was a blur of fear and desperation. She wanted to curse him, to scream at him, but the memory of his boot slamming into her ribs kept her silent. Her thoughts spun, trying to find a way to protect her daughter from the unbearable choices before her. She knew that whatever decision she made would only lead to further humiliation and suffering for Heidi.
Finally, with a voice barely above a whisper, she forced the words out. “Her underwear … take off her underwear.”
The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but in her frantic reasoning, she hoped that at least Heidi would still have her dress to cover her, to cling to some semblance of dignity as she would if she were on the street.
“You heard your mother, Heidi. Come on, give me that little pink thong,” Pembroke said, gesturing playfully with his fingers as if it were a game. His tone was light, almost mocking, which only made the situation more unbearable.
Heidi looked around, her eyes wide with fear and shame, taking in the leering faces and the horror of what was happening. Trembling, she tried to maintain some shred of dignity. She reached under her dress, carefully sliding her tiny panties down her legs without exposing herself any more than she had to. The flimsy fabric slipped past her knees, and she stepped out of them, her hands shaking as she picked them up.
With her face burning in humiliation, she handed the pink thong to Pembroke, her heart pounding in her chest. The act felt like a surrender, a final, devastating blow to her sense of self. Pembroke took the panties from her with a cruel smile, his eyes glinting with twisted satisfaction as he held the delicate fabric in his hand, and brought it to his nose.
“Delicious, you smell as tasty as your mother and much nicer than that cheesecake we had last night. “ Pembroke mocked her “I watched you bite into that cake knowing I would have you today, I was imagining what your cunt would taste like when I bit into mine.” His eyes lit up as he leaned closer to her. Heidi held her hands in front of her, feeling the air blowing up her dress against he exposed pussy.
“Now, Barazan, have you come yet?” Pembroke asked.
“No … no, sir,” Barazan replied nervously, his voice trembling as he tried to maintain composure in the horrifying situation.
“Well then, come out of poor Frieda for a while. Give her a break,” Pembroke said with a twisted smile, as if offering some perverse form of mercy.
Barazan, filled with a mix of shame and relief, withdrew from Frieda, his body shaking as he moved away.
“Heidi dear you must be tired from tottering around all day on those heels. Why don’t you take a seat?” Pembroke asked, his tone dripping with mock concern.
Heidi looked around, her voice trembling as she asked, “Wh-where should I sit?”
Pembroke’s grin widened, his tone disturbingly cheerful. “Why, on your mummy’s face, of course! Don’t feel bad—if your pussy tastes as nice as your thong suggests, I’m sure Frieda will enjoy it, and so will you! Come on, put that sweet little bottom right down on her face. Squat down as if you’re having a pee. It might be a bit wet; your dear mother has been crying quite a bit, I’m afraid, but you’ll enjoy it!”
Heidi’s body trembled with fear and revulsion as she realized what he was forcing her to do. Her legs felt like they were made of lead as she hesitated, the weight of her humiliation crushing her spirit. “Please, no … I beg you … I cannot…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Pembroke’s expression darkened, his voice turning icy and threatening. “If you don’t, I will start kicking your mother until I break a rib, and then I will force you down on her face so hard she won’t be able to breathe. So I suggest you hover over her, give her a nice view, and let her eat you at her leisure.”
Tears welled up Heidi’s eyes as she reluctantly made her way towards her friend, her heart aching with every step. She desperately tried to keep her skirt down, but Pembroke commanded her to lift it up. Blushing with embarrassment, she pulled her skirt tightly around her hips and lowered herself onto her haunches. She could feel her mother’s hot breath on her exposed pussy lips as she gazed down at her large breasts heaving below her. Slowly, she lowered herself until she could feel the her mother’s nose and lips against her pussy and asshole.
Frieda closed her eyes, having blanched at the sight of the vagina and anus rapidly blotting out everything else until her daughter’s intimate flesh enveloped her face.
“Use your tongue, Frieda, give your daughter some pleasure!”
Frieda took a deep breath through her open mouth, inhaling the musky aroma of her daughter’s vagina. As Pembroke abruptly commanded her to “Lick,” Frieda ran her tongue up and down, eager to avoid another kicking. But her daughter struggled to control herself; she had barely masturbated before and was already in pain from holding in her full bladder. The stress of the horrific situation, combined with the sensation of Frieda’s tongue on her sensitive areas, overwhelmed her. She couldn’t hold it any longer and began to urinate both out of fear and the unfamiliar feeling of her friend’s tongue exploring her petals. Her pee trickled down Frieda’s throat and into her nostrils, causing her to cough and sputter into the pussy above her.
Pembroke and the other men chuckled, while he held onto Heidi’s shoulders to keep her from getting up. She was mortified at what she had done to her mother and couldn’t bear to look at her. Despite this, her mother’s tongue continued to torment and tease her most sensitive areas, causing Heidi to struggle even harder to contain herself.
Dmitri had produced a video camera and was taking footage, including close ups of the golden piss flowing out of Heidi onto Frieda’s face.
“Now, Heidi, I promised I would not take off your dress, and I won’t … yet! But I will make a slight adjustment…” With careful hands Pembroke pulled her dress down by the straps, over her arms so that it was now just a bunched circle of cloth around her tummy, while he unclasped her bra, freeing her pert gravity defying breasts. Heidi remained struck with fear and barely resisted, trying her hardest to contain her bladder, while cringing at Pembroke/s fingers stroking and playing with her delicate strawberry nipples sprouting from her snow white breasts.
“You have wonderful body Heidi” Pembroke’s hands wandered all over her body, her thighs, breasts, back, arms her tummy and brought it down between her legs, feeling the wet slippery petals of her pussy, ad her mother’s busy mouth and tongue licking through his finger to get to her daughter’s pussy He put his fingers into Frieda’s mouth and back into Heidi’s pussy, then enjoyed Frieda’s fuller breasts while kissing Heidi’s neck.
“Now Heidi, have you ever heard of a 69 position?” Pembroke whispered with his tongue in her ear. “Bend down over your mummy’s body, and get your mouth working on her pussy just as she is doing yours!
He pushed Heidi down. The poor girl was almost grateful for the chance to bury her head in shame amid her mother’s thighs away from the gazes of the four men, but baulked at the appearance of and repulsive smell emanating from her mother’s private parts. She did not like to look at her own let alone anyone else’s, let alone get up close with her mouth, let alone her own mother! She tried to fight the claustrophobia of her mother’s sweaty meaty thighs and closed her eyes and licked gently at the tangy wet labia, trying to fight the urge to throw up.
Under threat of beatings to either or both of them, the girls continued to perform the unnatural acts on each other, while being filmed. Frieda’s face was captured by the camera, expressing pure desolation as she licked her daughter’s asshole. Meanwhile, Heidi’s face was also visible on camera, being forced to suck and lick Frieda’s toes. Frieda’s expression revealed defeat and disgust towards herself in that moment and Pembroke was looking forward to watching it later. This was not strictly necessary, however he was keen to show Heidi’s step father and future owner the footage to drive a little extra money out of him for the purchase and this would send him wild. It would be nice to show Heidi, in future, something of her mother for posterity, to remember her by, in her new life.
“Now ladies, I think you both deserve a nice big kiss. I want to see a deep French kiss, plenty of tongue, breasts mashing against each other, no holding back! Remember, you love each other!” Pembroke smirked as the females looked at the ground, wanting the earth to swallow them up.
“What are you going to do to us?” asked Frieda, her voice full of pain. Whatever happened, the life of she and her daughter would never be the same, even if they survived.
“We will be going on a little trip. Now, come one, for the cameras, a nice romantic kiss to end the movie!” Frieda lay back resignedly while Heidi lay on top of her, their breasts squishing together, and they each looked past each other, desperately avoiding eye contact, while their lips met.
“Tongues! Tongues, or your ribs will get my boot again!” Pembroke warned.
The pair obliged, their tongues flickering inside each other’s mouths, their eyes sealed shut, trying to imagine anything but the revolting horror their mouths had to deal with.
“I think we have enough footage, ladies! Let’s give a round of applause,” the men said sarcastically as Pembroke snapped at Bazaran once again. “Stop standing there and get your dick back inside Frieda. And this time, make sure you cum inside her!”
Heidi was lifted up and her dress was forcefully removed, leaving her completely exposed. Dmitri began securing restraints around her wrists and ankles as Heidi felt herself collapsing. Never in her life had she experienced anything like this before; she had never even been struck. But now, she had been hit and subjected to the most twisted acts that she could have never dreamed of in her worst nightmares. A dildo gag was shoved into her mouth and strapped tightly around her head.
Finally, as Bazaran reached his climax inside Frieda, he was overcome with exhaustion and fear. He gazed up at Pembroke, silently begging for direction. Pembroke motioned to Nadim, who quickly pulled out a baton and mercilessly struck Bazaran on the back of the head until he collapsed onto the carpet beside Frieda, dead.
Frieda’s screams pierced the air as she watched the savage beating, her hands tightly bound behind her back. Pembroke immediately reached for her throat in an attempt to silence her, and quickly shoved another gag into her mouth. Finally, he turned off the music. The still silence allowed him to drink in the terror of the two gagged females, their saucer like eyes pleading for help or mercy.
“Let’s bring in the boxes,” Pembroke said, his voice calm and methodical. Dmitri and Nadim each pushed in two large units that, at first glance, appeared to be ordinary air conditioning units. The sleek, industrial design, complete with vents and dials, was deceptively convincing—designed to blend in and arouse no suspicion.
But as they expertly opened the panels, the true nature of these units was revealed. Inside, they were devilishly ingenious containers, meticulously crafted to hold human beings in the most confining and torturous positions imaginable.
Heidi’s heart raced as they approached her with the box. She could feel the chill of the steel even before they lifted her. With a mixture of force and precision, they began to maneuver her into the circular compartment within the unit—a space barely large enough for a curled-up body.
She gasped as her body was folded and compressed, her heels pressing painfully against her buttocks, her chin forced down against her knees. Every breath felt labored, as if the very air around her was being squeezed out by the unforgiving walls of the unit. The interior was cold, metallic, and utterly devoid of comfort, designed to strip away any sense of humanity from its occupant.
Pembroke leaned in close, his hand sliding across her face in a mockery of tenderness. Heidi flinched, her wide, terrified eyes meeting his.
“This is the first day of your new life, Heidi. Until today, you had a wonderful life, full of promise, but from now on, you are a slave, and will be sold. You will have to get used to it, it will be very, very difficult, but your old life is over, just keep that in mind. You will never see your mother again, I hope the last hour will be something you remember forever when you think of her. To keep you company during your trip, here is something to remember her by.”
Pembroke produced the green panties Frieda had worn and cum inside earlier, in happier times, in his arms, just a few hours ago. He wrapped it carefully around her face so that it covered her mouth and nose, and she would spend the entire journey inhaling her mother’s pussy juices.
Her eyes darted around furiously, desperate for any sign of hope, as her heart pounded like a drum in her chest. The lid of the interior container began to lower, inch by agonizing inch, casting a shadow that grew darker with each passing second. As the lid finally sealed shut, shrouding her in complete darkness, the silence became absolute. There was no light, no sound—nothing but the suffocating blackness pressing down on her. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, the air inside the container already feeling thin and stale.
Meanwhile, Pembroke motioned with a cold detachment for the lifeless body of Bazaran to be placed in the other container. The box opened with a metallic hiss, ready to receive its grim cargo. As the corpse was being handled, Pembroke turned his attention to Frieda, her body trembling with fear, her eyes wide with a mix of terror and disbelief.
He approached her slowly, a twisted smile playing on his lips. “Frieda, Frieda, Frieda,” he tutted, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “In another life, we could have been lovers, husband and wife, perhaps. Or at the very least, you might have found yourself in that other container, on your way to join Heidi in her new life of servitude.”
He crouched down to her level, his voice dropping to a whisper, laced with cruel irony. “But … alas, there isn’t much demand for 43-year-old sex slaves. And Eldar … well, he didn’t want you getting in the way. Heidi, you see, is destined to be his, and only his, in her new life as his obedient slave.”
Frieda’s eyes filled with tears, and a muffled gasp escaped from behind her gag as the truth hit her like a sledgehammer. Her husband—the man she had trusted—had orchestrated all of this. And her daughter, her only daughter, would be his sex slave! She had to do something! But she could not even beg…
“As things stand, you and your cum-filled pussy are just too useful to me … as evidence,” Pembroke said, his voice dripping with cold calculation. Frieda’s eyes widened in terror, her breaths coming faster, her chest heaving against the ropes that bound her.
Pembroke’s hand slid down to her chest, his fingers tracing the contours of her warm, trembling breasts, savoring the way they rose and fell with each panicked breath. Soon, those fleshy mounds would be still. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear.
“That means…,” he whispered, his tone laced with sickening finality, “that you need to die.”
The words sent a jolt of pure fear through Frieda’s body. She choked on the dildo gag, her eyes wide with terror as she bucked wildly against her restraints. The panic surged through her as she saw Pembroke raise the baton, his expression cold and merciless, and her last thoughts were of her daughter, as her head exploded in a flash of light and pain.
“Well, gentlemen,” he said smoothly, his voice steady and cold, “a bit of cleaning, and then we can leave.”
—————
There was not much hassle, thanks to Mr. Carnot, with the delivery of two air conditioning units on board the plane at Munich Executive Airport. By nightfall, Nadim, Dmitri, and Pembroke were in the air, with Nadim at the controls. In the hold, the two air conditioning units sat quietly—one concealing the lifeless body of a dead man, the other containing a beautiful eighteen-year-old captive, her fate sealed within the cold, metallic walls.
Meanwhile, Eldar Hasanov had a busy day dealing with other business associates and only ‘noticed’ his wife and stepdaughter were missing late that night. Concerned but careful not to raise alarm too quickly, he made a few discreet calls to various friends and acquaintances. However, when none of them had any information, his concern deepened, and he eventually called the police.
The police, following standard procedure, informed him that no missing persons reports could be filed within the first 24 hours. Despite his growing anxiety, there was little they could do. They attempted to trace Frieda’s last known whereabouts, but there was no sign of her. As for Heidi, she had last been seen heading towards the Giling district, a notoriously rough area of the city.
Two days later, the grim reality came to light. The corpse of Frieda Hasanov was discovered in a dumpster outside a Kurdish restaurant in the same Giling district. The discovery sent shockwaves through the community, especially when it was revealed that the restaurant’s owner, Bazaran Sherhad, was a known associate of one of the city’s most notorious criminal families. However, by the time the police arrived, Sherhad had vanished without a trace, leaving behind more questions than answers.
Bazaran’s body was quickly disposed of at an incinerator within Pembroke’s secluded complex in southern Turkey, ensuring that no trace of his existence remained. Meanwhile, Heidi was violently thrust into her new life of slavery, subjected to a brutal regimen of conditioning and training.
As part of her grim transformation, the symbol ‘پ P П’, Pembroke’s brand, was permanently tattooed onto her right wrist, marking her as his product. Her body was stripped of all hair through laser treatments, rendering her entirely smooth.
Despite the horrific circumstances, her oral, vaginal, and anal virginity were meticulously preserved, as per the explicit orders of the buyer. However, this did not spare her from other forms of abuse. Dildos were regularly forced into her mouth, and the tongues of other prisoners were commanded to explore her most private areas—actions not just permitted, but actively encouraged by her captors.
Heidi had swiftly been ripped from a life of privilege, where she had once been carefree and hopeful about the future. Now, her existence had devolved into a desperate struggle for survival, living hour by hour in a nightmarish reality. The stark contrast between her past and present was unbearable, yet there was no escape from the horrors that had become her new normal.
She was not alone in her suffering. The other girls she was held with, once vibrant and full of life, now appeared hollow and broken, their eyes vacant and devoid of hope. They rarely spoke, as if the act of communication had been beaten out of them long ago. Together, they endured the same brutal physical, mental, and sexual torture, day in and day out, often for up to 18 hours at a time. The relentless abuse was designed to strip them of their humanity, reducing them to mere objects in the eyes of their captors.
Heidi was always kept naked, her vulnerability on full display. The compact glass cell they were confined to offered no privacy, forcing her into constant proximity with the other girls. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and fear, and their bodies, equally beautiful and equally violated, were often pressed against one another in the cramped space. Even sleep provided no relief; it was impossible to rest without being uncomfortably tangled with the others, their warm, trembling flesh a constant reminder of the shared nightmare they were all living.
Mrs. Parker, one of the female overseers, was the closest thing to a humane presence within the complex—a faint glimmer of kindness in an otherwise hellish environment. Unlike the other staff members who ruled with terror and brutality, Mrs. Parker didn’t evoke the same fear in Heidi. But beneath her veneer of gentleness lay a broken soul, a woman who had long been corrupted by the perverse world she was trapped in. Though she didn’t openly terrify Heidi, Mrs. Parker’s barely concealed lust for the girls was evident, although at least none of the girls who spent the night with her returned with black eyes, whipped backs, or other ailments, as happened with the other guards and overseers.
In a desperate bid to escape the suffocating confines of the glass cell, even if just for a single night, Heidi reluctantly accepted Mrs. Parker’s invitation to spend the night in her own bed. She was glad for the opportunity to wear clothes, a rare luxury in this twisted place, though the garments Mrs. Parker provided were hardly comforting. The overseer had handed her a pair of tiny white panties adorned with little strawberries, along with a cute, see-through negligee that offered little in the way of modesty.
“Have you recovered from the caning you got the other day yet?” Mrs. Parker asked, her voice soft but laced with a twisted kind of concern. She sat up in the bed, her eyes drifting over Heidi’s trembling form as she reached out with a hand that was both tender and possessive.
Before Heidi could respond, Mrs. Parker gently lifted the delicate negligee that barely covered her, exposing the smooth, pale skin of her back. As her fingers traced the faint, angry lines crisscrossing Heidi’s skin, Mrs. Parker’s gaze darkened with a mix of pity and something far more perverse.
The marks were the result of a so-called “fun” game of Twister, but this version had been far from innocent and had involved a lot of oral sex and electric shocks in very private and sensitive areas.
“You poor thing,” she murmured, though there was an undercurrent of satisfaction in her voice. “They were too harsh with you. Let me kiss it better.” She kissed her back, lowering down to her bottom and kissed all over her panty clad cheeks, around her hips and over her crotch. Heidi did not bother telling her the cane marks were not there.
“I love your little girl panties” cooed Mrs Parker, as ran a finger over her slit through the cotton fabric, then her tongue. “You taste like strawberries too!” she giggled.
“Madam Parker” Heidi sighed. What is going to happen to me do you know? Have any girls here returned, or escaped? What do you think happened to my mother?”
“Oh, my poor dear,” Mrs Parker whispered, her voice heavy with sorrow. She pressed a kiss to Heidi’s lips, a gesture that felt more invasive than comforting, but Heidi was too drained to resist, knowing now that resistance to any kind of sexual overtures from the overseers resulted in punishment. ““Me, I had a life outside before … before all of this.” Her voice trailed off as she turned away, lost in the memories of a past that now seemed distant and unreachable. “But they never gave you girls a chance at a life, just a glimpse of what could have been before they took it all away.”
For a moment, Mrs. Parker seemed on the verge of breaking down. But just as quickly, she forced a smile, her demeanor brightening in an unsettling display of forced optimism. “But no matter,” she chirped, her voice unnaturally cheerful. “One must always be positive!”
She cupped Heidi’s face in her hands. “Darling, you mustn’t think or hope that you’ll ever see your family or friends again. I know all this sex, all this … submission, is overwhelming now, but it’s your life now. You must focus on that—on enjoying being a submissive slave and pleasing your future owner. Please, don’t hope for anything better. It will only bring you more pain.”
Heidi’s heart sank at Mrs. Parker’s words. The older woman stroked her face maternally, her fingers brushing against Heidi’s cheek with a softness that was rare in this brutal, violent place. For a fleeting moment, Heidi was reminded of her own mother—Mrs. Parker had a similar height, figure, and even the same blonde hair. The resemblance was uncanny, and for a moment, it was as if she were being comforted by Frieda.
But the revealing lingerie Mrs. Parker wore—a basque that barely covered her ample breasts and accentuated her fleshy hips— and her wandering hands down her face and over her breasts, was far from the innocent loving relationship Heidi had previously enjoyed with her mother. Instead, it just made Heidi realise that she could barely think of her mother anymore without being transported to the restaurant and the disgusting incestuous acts they had been forced to perform with each other.
“He stole the memory of my mother, the bastard,” whispered Heidi, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. “If only … if only I had not gone into that restaurant.”
Mrs. Parker’s expression hardened at Heidi’s words, her eyes flicking to the collar around Heidi’s neck—a constant reminder that every word spoken was recorded, every thought potentially punishable. “Now, Heidi…” Mrs. Parker’s voice took on a stern tone as she narrowed her gaze. “Please do not insult the Master here. Or I will have to give you a spanking on your bottom!”
The warning in her voice was clear, and Heidi could see the seriousness in her eyes. Mrs. Parker leaned in closer, her demeanor softening only slightly as she continued, “You know, I get punished too, and I deserve it when I do. Feel here.” She took Heidi’s hand and guided it to her own buttocks, pressing Heidi’s fingers against the raised ridges of scars that marred her skin—scars from a previous whipping.
Heidi’s stomach twisted with disgust, but she didn’t pull her hand away. Mrs. Parker’s voice was laced with a sense of reluctant admission as she continued, “I was not proficient at training you girls for a task, and I was unthinkingly disrespectful to Mr. Darwish.” There was a note of resignation in her words, as if she had come to accept the brutal consequences of her failures. “It was painful, but they have every right to hurt me.”
Mrs. Parker slowly drew Heidi’s hand upward, guiding it over the smooth material of her basque, and then over her breasts. Her gaze locked onto Heidi’s. “But I am lucky enough to have a girl like you in my bed,” she murmured, her voice lowering to a whisper. “So one must always look for pleasure within the boundaries set by our Masters.”
Heidi opened her mouth to receive the kiss, and thought again of her mother, but this time, her breasts, her hips, her taste, in that restaurant, as Mrs Parker’s fingers played with her panty elastic and slipped inside. She kissed back more strongly and brought her own hands inside her basque and fondled the large breasts of the older woman.
“Mmmm, good girl,” Mrs. Parker whispered with a giggle. “I must be careful with my fingers when it comes to you. You’re meant to be a sweet, flawless package for your owner. But I can still use my tongue.” She playfully stuck out her tongue and dragged it down Heidi’s stomach under her negligee, flashing her a smile before moving it onto and over the now damp cotton panties.
As Heidi closed her eyes and relished the feeling of Mrs. Parker’s expert tongue, she couldn’t help but ponder on who her future owner would be. Being “pre-ordered” was uncommon among the other girls, and she couldn’t stop wondering about the person who had paid a hefty sum to have her snatched, trained, and enslaved. Would she even recognize them? The thought terrified her and kept her awake at night, because this owner would be the only human being she would ever see again once she was sold to them.
Months had passed since the tragic murder of Frieda Hasanov and the mysterious disappearance of her daughter, Heidi. The case had dominated the headlines, and Eldar Hasanov, Frieda’s husband, had been under intense media scrutiny. Despite this, the police investigation had yet to uncover any evidence linking him to the death of his wife and the disappearance of his stepdaughter. Eldar had maintained a public facade of sorrow and grief, even offering a one million euro reward for any information leading to the capture of those responsible for the brutal crime that had shattered his family.
Meanwhile, investigations revealed that Bazaran Sherhad, the main suspect, had been involved in criminal activities and money laundering for years. In recent months, it appeared that he had accumulated unsustainable debts, possibly due to gambling or having to support other criminal enterprises of his extended family. Although detectives had not located his hard drive, they discovered evidence suggesting that Sherhad had plans to extort the wealthy Eldar Hasanov and possibly kidnap his wife and stepdaughter for ransom. While the circumstances surrounding how Frieda ended up at Sherhad’s restaurant remained unclear, multiple witnesses reported seeing Heidi willingly enter the establishment, which Sherhad had suspiciously closed to the public on that specific day.
Frieda had been brutally beaten and raped, with DNA analysis confirming that Sherhad’s sperm was found in her body. The cause of her death was determined to be the result of blunt force trauma to the head. Investigators presumed that Sherhad, in a moment of uncontrollable violence, had accidentally killed Frieda, then panicked, taken Heidi to another location, possibly killed her as well, and subsequently vanished.
Sherhad’s family vehemently protested this version of events, though they could not deny his criminal history, nor their own involvement in illicit activities. What baffled them—and the police—was how Sherhad could disappear so completely, leaving no trace, no communication with his family, as if he had become a ghost. The case captivated the media, feeding into a sensational narrative that heightened political tensions, particularly with the story of two blonde women meeting a tragic fate at the hands of a man with an immigrant background.
Eldar Hasanov had declared that he could no longer bear to live in Germany. After a period of public mourning, he moved back to Azerbaijan, where he commissioned the construction of a new palatial complex. Above ground, the estate was designed for opulent gatherings, where he could entertain guests, enjoy the company of girlfriends, and eventually, he hoped, find a new wife.
However, beneath the lavish exterior, a far darker project was underway—a secret dungeon designed to satisfy Eldar’s most depraved desires with a girl had had obsessed over for years. The underground space was being fitted with various devices: a reinforced metal cage, soundproofed walls, and custom-built restraints designed for prolonged captivity. There were also racks equipped with electric shocks, a rotating wheel for torture, and a system of surveillance cameras to monitor every moment of his prisoner’s suffering. Eldar had ensured the construction was handled by discreet contractors and, on occasion, had personally overseen the installation of these gruesome additions, ensuring the highest level of security and secrecy.
Hasanov’s dark desires had been further inflamed by an encrypted video he had recently received. The footage featured his stepdaughter, stripped bare, professing unwavering devotion to her future owner—a stark contrast to the independent spirit she had once displayed when he knew her.
Another video had captured the moments of her capture in harrowing detail. It showed the degrading acts forced upon both Heidi and Frieda, highlighting their humiliation. Hasanov had taken particular pleasure in watching his once-proud ex-wife reduced to such a state, and was looking forward to showing it to Heidi, obliterating her own memory of her mother as a decent woman.
The videos had been sent to Hasanov by Edward Pembroke, who had cheekily requested the million-euro reward. Hasanov, amused by the boldness of the request, appreciated the humor but was also more than willing to meet Pembroke’s separate high price for delivering Heidi to him.
With Frieda out of the picture and his fortune now securely protected from her efforts, Hasanov felt a sense of liberation. The freedom he now enjoyed was intoxicating, and he eagerly anticipated the new life ahead of him—a life filled with luxury, power, and the dark pleasures that awaited him in his hidden dungeon.
The police had been relentless in their search for evidence, interviewing anyone who might have information about the Hasanovs’ last days. Among those questioned was Elena Mazzola, the waitress who had served the family the night before the tragic events. Like others, she remembered them as a happy, close-knit group, with no signs of discord or unease. One detail that stood out to Elena was the charming presence of one of Mr. Hasanov’s business associates, a man known to have longstanding dealings with Hasanov’s enterprises, but whom police had deemed irrelevant to their investigation.
Elena recalled the generous tip they had left her, the cheerful atmosphere at the table, and the chilling reality that tragedy could strike so suddenly. The pretty blonde girl with them had seemed to glow with a light, almost like a spirit, but just a day later, she was gone, her life snuffed out. The thought made Elena shudder and caused her to reflect on her own existence.
She realized how directionless her life had become—cut off from her family, barely in contact with them. Despite her good looks and attractive figure, which garnered her plenty of male admirers, she had no real friends here. If she vanished, would anyone even notice?
It was now autumn, and Munich was alive with the vibrant festivities of Oktoberfest. Among the throngs of tourists, a returning visitor moved through the city with a purpose beyond mere celebration. His primary reason for being in Munich was business, and as he entered the exclusive lobby of the Bayerischer Hof Hotel, he turned heads even in such a luxurious setting.
He was in his late 40s, tall and impeccably handsome, with wavy dark hair that framed his chiseled features. His expensive suit was tailored to perfection, and he carried a briefcase that hinted at wealth and power.
He had just finished a meeting with a wealthy property baron, discussing the possible sale of a product. Despite his composed demeanor, the man couldn’t shake the lingering disgust from his client’s vile and lewd descriptions of what he desired a slave to endure. Upon reaching the hotel lobby, he was glad to find some relief in a drink, hoping to drown out the distasteful details of the conversation.
Yet, he also needed to steady himself for a far more illicit task later that evening—a task that would require him to leave Munich with a nondescript container, one large enough to hold the contorted, folded form of a slender young woman.
Busy day?” A young woman smiled at him as she took a seat next to him at the bar. She was dressed in a sleek cocktail dress, her voice carrying a light, playful tone. “It’s nice to find someone else who doesn’t like Oktoberfest here!” she giggled, her American accent unmistakable.
Pembroke immediately assessed her: young, pretty, with distinct Asian features—possibly Vietnamese. Her cat-like eyes were striking, framed by carefully curled hair. She seemed too young to be in Munich for business, unless her business was something else entirely. Alone and without a companion, she didn’t appear to be part of a couple. Pembroke’s experienced eye quickly pegged her as a prostitute, likely here on the prowl for clients among the well-heeled guests.
“Haha, yes, no rest for the wicked,” he replied with a charming smile. “I wish I had your youth—I’d be out drinking and partying. It’s a little boring here,” he added with a grin.
“I prefer the company of older men,” she purred, introducing herself. “I’m Caroline.” As she spoke, she casually waved a stocking-clad leg out from under her black dress, crossing her legs with a slow, deliberate movement, letting her leg rise and fall enticingly.
“You’re American? I’m French. Papin, Phillippe Pain,” he said with a warm smile, extending his hand.
Turning to the barman, he added, “A French 75, please. Make that two—one for the young lady as well.”
“Oh, thank you,” the young woman replied, her smile brightening. Pembroke studied her for a moment, wondering just how old she was—and how desperate.
“Are you working here?” Pembroke asked, arching his eyebrows. He noticed, with some satisfaction, that despite her initially cool exterior, the girl seemed a little nervous.
“Kind of,” she replied, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “I like to party, you know what I mean?”
“It’s a long way from Kansas, Caroline,” Pembroke said with a sympathetic smile. “You’re beautiful, but I’d hate to take advantage.”
“You wouldn’t be taking advantage,” she replied, her voice carrying a touch of innocence.
“How did you end up in Munich?” Pembroke asked, his gaze briefly shifting to a security guard who seemed to be watching her. He knew prostitutes were forbidden at the hotel bar.
Caroline sensed the same and became visibly more nervous. “I … dropped out of college in Boston…”
“Princeton? Harvard?”
“No … Bunker Hill Community College,” she replied meekly. “I thought I’d see the world while I’m still young, and, well … a girl has to make a living somehow.”
Pembroke smiled sympathetically. “I was young once too, Caroline. I understand.” He would have enjoyed spending more time with this girl; she was just the right way to unwind after a day of negotiations. But he had a job to do tonight.
“What do you do?” Caroline asked, clearly entranced by the aura of wealth and charisma that seemed to radiate from Mr. Pembroke.
“Recruitment and acquisitions,” Pembroke replied with a smile. “I work with wealthy clients, matching in-demand skills with exclusive opportunities. I place key individuals in their proper niches, evaluate promising ventures, and provide consultation on how to maximize their potential.” He smiled, thinking of the business opportunity awaiting him—and also the potential he saw in Caroline herself.
“Oh, well, I don’t think I’d be in demand in the corporate world,” laughed Caroline, playing with her hair.
“You’d be surprised. Networking is key—you just have to meet the right people,” Pembroke grinned.
“Are you married?” she asked, pulling at her hair, her attraction to him evident. She wanted him and needed the money.
“Yes, unfortunately—a wife and three kids. I travel a lot, but we keep in touch with video calls,” he replied smoothly.
“Must make … partying … hard,” she giggled.
“Tonight, well, yes,” he sighed.
“A pity. I’m leaving Munich tomorrow,” she sighed, hoping she could change his mind.
“Where are you going? Sounds like an exciting trip.”
“Well, it’s expensive,” she sighed again. “But I’ve always wanted to see Strasbourg Cathedral, so that’s where I’ll be.”
“You know, Caroline, I think I’ll be there in the next few days,” Pembroke smiled. “Perhaps we can keep in touch, discreetly, you understand.” He winked as he sipped his cocktail.
“Of course,” smiled Caroline. She felt a twinge of guilt, but she was drawn to family men. They were safe, nice, and while she knew she was a jezebel for pulling them away from their wives, she longed for the comfort and security of a man like this—generous and charismatic.
“I’d love to show you around there and see it myself,” he smiled. “Maybe we can exchange details and keep in touch … discreetly?”
“I’m used to it, Philippe,” grinned Caroline.
“And there, I can take you out for a real French meal, not the German food,” Pembroke winked as he drained the rest of his cocktail. “For now, I’m sorry, but my wife and kids await. However, I look forward to seeing you in Strasbourg.”
Caroline thanked him, biting her lip. Could he be a sugar daddy? She knew he had to be careful and discreet, but this was why she frequented exclusive hotels—these men weren’t serial killers or dirtbags. She felt a twinge of guilt for his wife, but she couldn’t afford to risk her safety by dealing with low-value men.
“I don’t usually do this kind of thing, Caroline,” Pembroke said, looking at her thoughtfully. “Maybe we can just hang out. I’m not sure I want to do … more. But I would like to show you the city,” he smiled, “and enjoy the company of a beautiful young woman.”
“I understand, Philippe,” she giggled, confident that she could eventually seduce him. She was now looking forward to what she hoped would be a lucrative and enjoyable arrangement. She leaned forward, resting her head on her hand, batting her eyelids playfully.
“Can I have your number?” Caroline eagerly whipped out her phone, and Pembroke smiled as he noticed the Android’s battery charging port.
“My wife can log onto my system and see my messages,” Pembroke said with a tinge of regret. “Could we communicate through this special app? It doesn’t appear on the system that she can see.” He laughed lightly. “I can find it for you on the app store…”
Caroline felt a frisson of pleasure as his tapered hands gently took her phone from her. She was looking forward to seeing him in Strasbourg. Pembroke quickly located the obscure app and downloaded it onto her phone. It had very few users, was not particularly successful, and had been designed and uploaded by his associate, Konrad Fischer. Unbeknownst to the user, the app continuously transmitted the phone’s location.
“I feel so bad about leaving such a pretty young woman alone here,” Pembroke said, handing her two hundred euros in notes. “Enjoy Oktoberfest!” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, savoring her scent.
Pembroke smiled as he left. It was worth two hundred euros to secure such a pretty young target. Once in his room, he checked his messages. Within minutes, his associate Konrad Fischer had identified ‘Caroline’—she had tagged the hotel on social media that night. Her real name was Grace Kim, a Korean American eager to flaunt her travels but less willing to reveal how she funded them. Pembroke delighted in how easily she had been identified and tracked, already mentally preparing for her abduction between Munich and Strasbourg. Poor Grace would soon regret her decision to approach strangers in a hotel bar—for the rest of her life.
For now, as he changed from businessman to a nondescript nighttime figure, Pembroke switched back into hunter mode. It was time to focus.
Elena Mazzolo had endured a torrid time at Oktoberfest waitressing. Dressed in the traditional, cleavage-revealing blouse and short skirt, she was subjected to the lecherous advances of drunken louts who repeatedly put their hands up her skirt and over her breasts. Frustrated and humiliated, she angrily complained to the offenders and to her manager, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. The situation reached a breaking point when she felt fingers slipping up her skirt, inside her knickers, and into her most private area, causing her to spill drinks on a customer in shock. Infuriated, she stormed off her shift early.
Instead of receiving sympathy, her manager coldly warned her that if she didn’t return to work tomorrow, he would consider it her resignation.
In tears, Elena walked home, her mind churning with thoughts of how empty her life had become. The story of Frieda and Heidi Hasanov haunted her, reminding her of her own isolation. Friendless, alone, adrift from her family—if she disappeared off the face of the earth, only her family would care. Her housemates wouldn’t notice for weeks. It seemed that all anyone wanted from her was to use her as a sexual object. In that moment, Elena realized she needed to reconnect with her family. She thought of her father, quiet but kind, and her mother, who had always been so patient with her. Wiping away her tears as she walked down the dark street near her flat, she pulled out her phone and brought up her mother’s number. She longed to hear her mother’s voice, to apologize for being so distant, and to find comfort in the idea of going home.
But then she noticed the time—after eleven o’clock. It was too late; calling now would only wake them and cause unnecessary worry. She sniffed and swore to herself that first thing tomorrow morning, she would call them, open up about everything, and book a flight back to Turin.
Overcome with thoughts of home and family, and finally ending her loneliness in this depressing city, Elena didn’t notice the white van slowly approaching from behind. Nor did she pay attention to the hooded figure walking toward her. Little did young Elena Mazzolo know that she would never get to make that phone call, or see her family ever again. Instead, poor Elena was about to embark on a new life, one where the discomfort she felt during her work shift would seem trivial—a life of strict obedience and sex slavery.