Lucy's Predicament
Copyright© 2025 by Edward Pembroke
Chapter 14
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 14 - Lucy is a shy, awkward and innocent red headed schoolgirl, struggling to deal with school bullies, puberty and becoming the prey of predatory perverts. This is a tale of evil, a dark story, please do not read expecting a light hearted story.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft ft/ft Fa/ft ft Mult Teenagers Blackmail Coercion NonConsensual Rape Reluctant Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual School Niece Aunt FemaleDom Sadistic Spanking Analingus Oral Sex Squirting Voyeurism Teacher/Student
“Now, Lucy, did you read that book?”
“Yes, Mummy,” Lucy replied dryly. “Did you know Oscar Wilde was in prison for being a homosexual?”
They were in the car, being driven to Ms. Trunchbull’s. Samantha scoffed. “I don’t believe that’s true. I saw his play ... it’s quite decent. No filth, just good, nice, pleasant humor. I’m sure Ms. Trunchbull wouldn’t have given you that to read if he was in any way degenerate.”
“Whatever, Mummy.”
Lucy was already bracing herself for her own ordeal of degeneracy ... being abused by Ms. Trunchbull.
“Now, I have yoga, then some food with the girls,” Samantha said, smoothing her top. “Don’t you dare disturb Ms. Trunchbull or show yourself up while you’re studying after tuition. It was very nice of her to let you sit in her house to study after your lesson!”
Lucy fidgeted as the car pulled up to the forbidding house. Through the window, she could see the silhouette of the headmistress watching from the top window ... waiting for her prey to arrive.
Lucy stood at the doorstep in her modest pleated skirt and neatly tucked-in blouse, her black Mary Jane shoes polished to a shine. Ms. Trunchbull, dressed in a high-necked, ankle-length dress and a crisp white blouse, her grey hair falling free and parted in the middle, held the door open just enough for Lucy to slip inside. Her gaze flickered past Lucy, lingering instead on Samantha’s athletic figure in her form-fitting yoga pants and snug vest top.
Lucy ducked her head, her copper-red curls bouncing slightly, as she stepped under Ms. Trunchbull’s outstretched arm. The headmistress made no move to invite Samantha in.
“Enjoy your yoga, Mrs. McSworley,” Ms. Trunchbull said, her voice polite but dismissive.
“Thank you, Ms. Trunchbull,” Samantha replied with a bright smile, blowing Lucy a quick kiss. “Be good, darling. I’ll see you soon.” With that, she turned, her toned figure disappearing down the path as the door clicked shut behind Lucy.
“Now child, I trust you have studied some works of Mr Wilde...”
“Yes Ms Trunchbull...” Lucy lied. She knew that there would be little studying done.
As she stepped into the living room, Lucy froze. Another woman sat on the sofa, her presence unexpected. She was in her thirties, with rich brown hair styled in soft curls, her petite frame, just over five feet, curved in all the right places. Clad in a snug black dress and sheer tights, she cradled a glass of white wine, her lips curling into a warm smile as Lucy entered.
“Oh, Aunt Jane,” the woman purred, her gaze sweeping over Lucy with obvious approval, “she’s absolutely precious. What a darling little thing!”
“Well, Teresa,” Ms. Trunchbull said, settling onto the sofa and crossing her legs beside the younger woman, “she may look like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but this young madam can be quite the naughty little minx.”
She didn’t bother introducing Lucy to Teresa, who seemed to be her niece.
“Naughty, eh?” Teresa’s eyes sparkled as she turned her gaze to Lucy. “Poor girl, I think you’ve probably felt my aunt’s firm hand on your bottom by now. Such a tyrant, isn’t she?” she cackled.
“Firm but fair,” Ms. Trunchbull replied with a slight smile, taking a sip of her wine. “Now, child,” she said, turning her attention back to Lucy, “entertain us. What do you know about ‘Requiescat’?”
Lucy reached for her bag, fumbling for the poem.
“Oh, come now, McSworley!” Ms. Trunchbull snapped. “It’s a four-line poem. You mean to tell me you couldn’t memorize it? A shame I can’t advise your mother to beat you ... it seems that silly little head of yours can’t retain a thing.”
Teresa rolled the name on her tongue, savoring it. “McSworley...” she murmured, her eyes drifting over Lucy before flicking back to her aunt. She idly traced a finger along Ms. Trunchbull’s arm. “Don’t be too harsh on the girl, Auntie. It’s not what’s in her head that interests me...” Her gaze raked over Lucy, lingering on every detail, from her flushed face down to her fidgeting hands.
“I’m sorry ... Ms Trunchbull...” Lucy began.
“Can I get her some wine?” asked Teresa.
“No, the child is much too young for that,” Ms. Trunchbull said irritably. “Girl, do you memorize any of Oscar Wilde’s poems?”
Lucy hesitated. “I think I know... ‘Endymion’?”
“Well, proceed.”
Lucy took a breath and began, her voice trembling slightly: “The apple trees are hung with gold, And birds sing in the meadows old; The apple trees are hung with gold, And birds sing in the meadows old.”
“Hmm. Passable,” Ms. Trunchbull said, her lips pursing. “What do you think, Teresa?”
Teresa twirled a lock of her hair, her eyes glinting with mischief as she studied Lucy. “I’m just wondering...” she mused, her voice dripping with curiosity, “what color knickers do you think she’s wearing under that skirt?”
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