Chapter 2

While Sophia Valasquez toiled in a world of torment and despair in Bogotá, thousands of miles away, the even younger teenager, Lola Chapman, was facing her own private hell at school. The slender, willowy blonde walked nervously through the crowded corridors, her steps hesitant, her body taut with fear. She was desperate for the toilet—she always avoided it, terrified of being attacked again, as she had been last time. To protect herself, she’d even started wearing double underwear, a pitiful barrier against her bullies’ attempts to humiliate her. But the taunts still rang relentlessly in her head.

“Little blonde bitch,” one of them spat, as Lola neared her locker.

“What’s wrong, straw-hair? Cat got your tongue?” Shakira’s voice carried a venomous edge, her cruel smile widening as she leaned in, watching Lola fumble with her books.

And then it happened.

“What knickers has the little slut got on today?” Shakira jeered, her hands darting out to lift Lola’s skirt, exposing her modest blue shorts. Beneath them, a second pair of underwear peeked out of the waistband—Lola’s futile shield against the torment.

A chorus of laughter erupted.

“Fuck me, are you Amish or something?” Shakira cackled, her mockery punctuated by the cruel amusement of her friends.

“Leave me alone!” Lola’s voice broke, her face flushed red with humiliation as she yanked her skirt back down.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Keshawna snarled. Her grip was iron-tight as she seized Lola’s blonde hair, twisting it painfully before slamming her head into the cold metal of the locker. The sound echoed down the corridor—a sickening thud.

Lola crumpled to the floor, her vision blurring, hands flying to her throbbing forehead. Tears welled in her eyes as she gasped in pain, curled up on the ground like a wounded animal.

“Break it up!” a teacher’s voice rang out, distant and ineffective.

“We’ll get you later,” Shakira hissed. To punctuate the promise, Shakira aimed a swift, merciless kick at Lola’s stomach, leaving her doubled over, sobbing quietly as the bullies sauntered off, laughing.

At work, Lola’s mother, Lisa, was also feeling deeply uncomfortable. She had chosen smart black trousers and a crisp blouse that morning—professional, yet modest. But the fabric still clung a little too snugly to her ass, and the clear lines of her underwear prompted leers and comments from the homeless men outside on the street. Worse still, her choice of attire had not gone unnoticed by her boss, who now regarded her with thinly veiled disapproval.

“Now, Lisa,” Pembroke began, his tone oily and condescending, “you need to remember why you’re here.”

Lisa froze, clutching her notebook a little tighter.

“The only reason you got this job is because you’re an attractive young woman,” he continued, his beady eyes fixed on her. “You need to lean into that.” He gestured vaguely at her clothes. “This isn’t what we discussed. If you want to pass your probation, you really need to embrace your femininity more. That skirt you wore yesterday was much more ... appropriate.”

Lisa’s throat felt tight. “Erm ... sorry. You’re right,” she stammered, forcing herself to nod. “I’ll wear the skirt tomorrow.”

Pembroke’s lips curled into a chilling smile, his tongue darting out briefly between yellowing teeth. “Good girl. It’s such lovely weather—it brightens everyone’s day to see a young woman’s legs.”

His words made Lisa’s skin crawl, but she forced herself to keep still, to swallow her disgust. She felt his gaze lingering far too long, like a greasy film she couldn’t scrub off. Every instinct in her screamed to get out of that office and quit on the spot, but she needed this job. She fixed on a tight, empty smile and nodded, praying that one day she would escape this grotesque man as she seethed with anger and shame.

“Now, I have a meeting with management tomorrow,” Mr. Pembroke announced, his tone dripping with self-importance. “Meanwhile, I’ll need you to oversee the systems communications here. I might put in a good word for you—so don’t mess it up.” He smiled, his yellow teeth flashing at her.

“Yes, Mr. Pembroke,” Lisa replied softly, her voice tinged with both fear and apprehension.

“Good. I should be away for a few hours in the morning,” he said, leaning in a little too close. “Remember to just text me if you run into any issues.” His breath hit her like a wave, bitter with stale coffee.

Lisa forced a polite nod as he finally turned away. Relief washed over her—at least she’d be free of him for a few hours tomorrow—but it was quickly followed by a gnawing anxiety. What if she screwed this up? The pressure was suffocating.

The next morning, Lisa arrived at work in the short skirt Pembroke had praised, tugging at the hem as she sat at her desk. She stared blankly at the screen, desperately trying to make sense of her boss’s vague instructions. Stress knotted in her stomach, as though Pembroke’s eyes were still on her even in his absence.

But Pembroke wasn’t in a management meeting. This morning, it was Lisa’s daughter Lola who held his attention.

Miles away, he was deep in the hills outside the city, far from any office or colleague. He knew enough now from the details in Lisa’s accounts gleaned from having gone through her phone, to track the small, intimate details of her and her daughter’s life.

Lola’s school trip this morning was no secret to him. A morning at the lake, where the girls would be diving, laughing, carefree and vulnerable. Pembroke imagined it clearly: school uniforms abandoned on the shore, innocence exposed as they splashed and shrieked in the water.

He moved silently through the hills, dressed in camouflage hunting gear that blended him seamlessly into the brush. Slung over his shoulder was a bag containing binoculars and a high-distance camera. He smiled as the shrieking schoolgirls came into view splashing in the water.

Lola’s swimsuit, bought by her mother when she was just eleven, no longer fit her growing figure. The fabric strained and stretched against her developing curves, clinging to every inch of exposed skin, almost translucent in its thinness. She could feel it hugging her crotch tightly between her legs. The straps dug into her shoulders, and the high-cut sides rode up on her hips, showcasing the fullness of her hip bones. Lola had meticulously shaved every hair between her legs before putting on the suit, mindful of how the gusset would yank tight against her skin and cut deeply between her legs, leaving little to the imagination. She constantly adjusted and pulled at the bottom parts, trying to cover as much of her pussy as possible, and prevent the fabric from disappearing into her ass crack.

KeShawna, clad in a vibrant purple bikini that hugged her curves, sneered at Lola’s petite frame. “Wow,” she taunted, “does the little white girl really have no tits?” Her own ample bosom jiggled mockingly as she laughed, drawing attention to Lola’s flat chest and barely-there nipples poking through her thin swimsuit.

Feeling self-conscious and vulnerable, Lola quickly moved away and dove into the water. The cool liquid enveloped her body like a protective shield. She swam towards a group of girls - some Asian, some white - who at least seemed more interested in enjoying their own company than attacking her.

Edward Pembroke was in his element, snapping photos and videos of teenage girls in bikinis and getting changed. But he zeroed in on the little blonde girl in the tight black swimsuit and looked with hunger at her red sports bag grouped with the others, guarded by one of the teachers. Like a jackal, he ventured closer, and using an adapted fishing line, quickly hooked and pulled away the red bag belonging to Lola.

He hastily rummaged through the items in the bag. He found her phone, school uniform, and was pleased to see a pair of worn underwear. He lifted the yellow panties to his nose and breathed in deeply, enjoying the sweet scent. With a wicked grin, he decided it would be safer to take the entire bag. From what he observed, Lola was bullied by many students who could potentially be suspects.

“Right, Lisa, I trust all went well?” Pembroke’s voice carried a forced geniality as he lowered himself into his chair, his eyes fixed on her.

“Err ... yes, Mr. Pembroke. I think so...” Lisa stammered, her voice faltering as she wrung her hands nervously.

“Good. Then explain to me what happened this morning—give me a proper debrief,” he said, leaning back, a false smile plastered across his face.

Pembroke had returned from his excursion, now back in his wrinkled shirt, the buttons straining over his bloated stomach. His gaze was sharp and predatory, his eyes never leaving Lisa as she fumbled for the right words. She sat stiffly in the chair across from him, her expression tight with worry as she tried to piece together the chaos of the morning’s work.

Lisa shifted her posture absentmindedly, crossing and uncrossing her legs as she concentrated, oblivious to Pembroke’s stare. Each movement—the slight reveal of her pink underwear as her skirt rose—fed his twisted satisfaction.

He grinned to himself, barely listening as she mumbled explanations he knew she didn’t fully understand. The stupid bitch, she hasn’t a clue what she’s doing.

She had no chance of passing probation, and Pembroke knew it. The thought sent a vile thrill through him. She was vulnerable, confused—easy prey. He could take advantage of her in ways she hadn’t even begun to imagine.

“Is that all?” he said finally, his tone almost mocking.

“Yes ... I—I think so,” Lisa replied, her cheeks flushed as she tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to hold herself together.

Pembroke leaned forward slightly, his grin widening. “Well, let’s hope you’re right, for your sake.”

“Mr ... Mr. Pembroke,” Lisa muttered, her voice trembling. “Please, could I leave at 5:30 today? Just this once. It’s my daughter—she’s not answering her phone, and I’m ... I’m just a little worried.”

Pembroke sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair as though the weight of her request was an enormous burden. “Well, I suppose I can make this one exception.” He paused, fixing her with a disapproving glare. “But Lisa, you can’t let family matters interfere with your work. If you expect to have any kind of career here, you need to focus.”

Lisa swallowed hard, her face flushed and her eyes wet. “Please, just this one time,” she whispered, her voice catching on the edge of tears. The thought of her daughter—her baby girl—not answering her phone made her sick with worry.

Pembroke waved her off dismissively, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fine. But don’t make a habit of this, Lisa.”

“Thank you,” Lisa said quickly, turning away before her emotions could spill over. Leaving at 5:30 felt like a forbidden luxury in this oppressive office, but right now, nothing mattered more than making sure Lola was okay. Her hands shook as she checked her phone one more time. No missed calls. No texts. Where are you, sweetheart?

Lisa hurried through the front door, her heart racing. Relief washed over her like a wave when she saw Lola curled up on the sofa—but the relief was short-lived. Her daughter’s shoulders were shaking, and tears streaked her face.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” Lisa asked, rushing to her side. “You didn’t have your phone on. I’ve been so worried!”

“It’s those girls, Mommy,” Lola sobbed, swiping at her tears. “They stole my bag. I know they did. I—I went swimming on the trip, and when I went to get changed, all my stuff was gone. Just my bag! No one else’s.”

Lisa’s face fell as she pulled her daughter into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her head. “Oh, Lola. I’m so sorry. What did you do? Where’s your uniform?”

Lola shifted, her face crumpling as she looked down at herself—now just in an old T-shirt and shorts. “I didn’t have anything to wear,” she whispered. “I had to sit on the bus home in just a towel. Everyone was laughing. The boys were staring at me, Mommy. Then the teacher found some old gym kit for me to wear, but...”

Her voice broke. “It was awful.” She shuddered, her cheeks flushing with humiliation. “The gym knickers were tiny. I could feel everyone looking at me, and the girls were taking photos and laughing all day. I just wanted to disappear.”