‘I hope you’re wearing a push-up bra,’ said Bill. ‘I want to see your tits spilling out of that blouse.’ He leered. ‘Oh, and I want you to put your hair in pigtails.’
Amber tried to dismiss his comments as she took off her skirt and top. Whilst she did so, she could see Bill was also undressing, casting off his shoddy underwear and exposing the voluminous folds of fat that hung loosely around his body, his flesh slick with sweat. She averted her eyes and concentrated on what she was doing instead.
She put on the school uniform then tied up her long blonde hair into two pigtails. As soon as she had finished transforming herself into a schoolgirl, she could see that the punter was becoming very excited. His complexion was even more ruddy than usual, his eyes were almost bulging from their sockets and a quick look at his groin told her they weren’t the only things that were bulging. She stifled the urge to retch as she waited to see what he would do next.
‘Nice,’ he said. ‘You remind me of all those girls I see walking to school every day. Silly little bitches don’t know what it does to a man. Or perhaps they do. Maybe that’s why they wear their skirts so short.’
Amber ignored him, battling with her urge to flee from the room. But, before she could do anything, he was in front of her and running his large calloused hands down her back, over her bottom and along the backs of her thighs. Then he lifted the skirt, his palms seeking her flesh once again, then slipping beneath the thin material of her briefs and clenching her buttocks. She let out a gasp of alarm and pulled away from him, but he held her firm.
Seeming to sense her reluctance, he quickly said, ‘I want the same as last time.’
Amber felt a tiny surge of relief and focused on that as she undressed and lay on the bed. But the feelings of relief came too late to dispel the anxiety that was already streaming through her body. Like last time, he wanted straightforward sex and Amber kept telling herself that it was no different than most punters and would soon be over.
But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, her mind was too preoccupied with the blatant meaning behind the choice of outfit. The man was a fuckin’ paedophile! She dwelled again on the reason he had picked her out after their first meeting. Even though she was twenty-seven, the fact that she was only slight made her a suitable alternative to somebody far younger. Somebody who he would prefer to have been abusing if he’d had the chance.
Amber was so worked up that her body remained tense, making sex uncomfortable. The punter carried on even though she was unreceptive. As he thrust away inside her she became sore and found herself fighting back tears as the pain provoked a distressing memory from her childhood.
She had been twelve then; just a girl called Amy who later changed her name to Amber to satisfy the perverse ideals of her evil pimp. Apart from being painful, that experience had been a total shock and something that she would never forget.
2
April 1993
Amy wanted to run through the rooms just one more time. She loved their home in Cheadle. It was big and cosy with a garden that went all the way round. Her grandparents said that was because it was detached, and it was in a good area too. She’d spent many happy hours in the playroom with her friends or in the sprawling back garden on the swing, slide and climbing frame.
She was going to miss it, but her mother had promised her that the house they were moving to was also very nice. It wasn’t as big as this one and they would only have room for the swing in the garden but nevertheless her mother was going to make sure that it was just as cosy.
She had also told Amy and Nathan that their friends could come and visit them in the new house, and that they’d probably make new friends too. Amy enjoyed playing with her friends and knew that she was going to miss them, but she felt better knowing that they would be welcome anytime.
At the top of the stairs she turned and walked into her old bedroom, clutching her favourite teddy bear, Barney. Her bedroom was at the back of the house and overlooked the garden with its neat lawns and pretty flowers. Amy caught a glimpse of the slide and the climbing frame that would be left behind, and she felt sad. But she tried not to cry, knowing she had promised her mother she would be a brave girl when they had to leave their nice home.
‘Come on, Barney,’ she said, addressing her teddy bear. ‘Don’t cry. We’ve got to be brave for Mummy. The men have put my bed in the van, and I’ll tuck you up nice and warm in it when we get to the new house.’
The garden was now devoid of the picturesque planters that her mother had lovingly nurtured. They were inside the big van that was parked outside the front of their house. Many of their belongings were also inside and as Amy walked through the empty bedrooms, she could hear the echo of her footsteps.
Next, she walked into her mother’s bedroom and looked out of the window at the men who were busy carrying boxes from the kitchen. She spotted her friend, Maisie, with her mother, hovering at the edge of the garden, and Amy let out an excited squeal. She ran down the stairs, eager to see Maisie one last time before she had to leave.
‘Maisie,’ she shouted enthusiastically as she sped out of the front
