Lucy's Predicament
Copyright© 2025 by Edward Pembroke
Chapter 6
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 6 - 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, please do not read if you are after something light and fun.
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 Heterosexual FemaleDom Sadistic Spanking Analingus Oral Sex Teacher/Student
The hockey field was a battleground, and Lucy was the prey. Her red hair flew wildly as she stumbled, small and skinny, no match for the towering predators around her. Jackie, the tall blonde, shoved her hard from behind. Beri, broad and brutish, drove an elbow into Lucy’s ribs, knocking the wind out of her. Another girl tripped her up, sending her crashing into the mud.
The girls erupted into laughter as she sprawled face-first, her legs splayed wide open in the fall. Her hockey skirt rode up, exposing the thin gray fabric of her sports knickers, stretched tight against her pussy. The mud covered her shins and knees.
“Look at her! Can’t even stand up!” Jackie jeered, “Useless skinny bitch!”
Lucy tried to tug her skirt down, but her muddy fingers only smeared darker streaks across the fabric. Her knees stung like they were on fire, and every step sent a sharp pulse of pain up her legs as she limped back down the pitch.
“Come on, McSworley!” Ms Reeves bellowed from the sidelines—sporty, sharp-eyed, white-haired in a green tracksuit. “Up and at it, girl! Move!”
Lucy hated sport. A weekly opportunity for the bullies to “accidentally” hurt her, and oh, they took every one.
By the final whistle, Lucy was caked head-to-toe in mud, her hair plastered to her forehead, her knees bleeding. She trudged off the pitch, teeth clenched, trying not to cry.
Ms Reeves shouted out. “That’s enough! Back to the changing rooms, all of you!”
The girls scattered, still giggling.
Lucy limped toward the changing rooms, alone, mud drying in stiff patches on her skin.
When she got to the changing rooms, Ms. Reeves was insistent. “Come on, McSworley, off to the shower with you...”
Lucy clutched her white towel, the same color as her skin, as she hesitated, walking toward the shower. The taller girls were laughing naked, their athletic figures on full display—full breasts, round asses, and wide confident hips, their skin slick and wet.
She watched as they flicked towels at the squealing figure of Naomi, the skinny dark-haired girl getting her small buttocks flicked with towels by the Amazonian Jackie, her pale breasts jiggling, her proud nipples pointing in stark contrast to Naomi’s flat chest.
Lucy was almost grateful for Naomi to take the heat as she went to a corner shower and slipped off her towel. The brown mud caked over her white skin washed off her as she scrubbed quickly, desperate to escape.
“Not so fast, McSworley.”
It was Ms. Reeves. What was she doing in the showers?
“Still very dirty. Come on, I’ll check you wash all that mud off.”
“Haha, filthy dirty girl!” the other girls laughed as they walked out, leaving Lucy alone, naked, while the teacher in her tracksuit stood next to her, eyeing her.
The woman’s sharp eyes trailed down Lucy’s bare body—pale skin, ribs too visible, hips narrow where the other girls were soft and curved. The teacher’s fingers gripped Lucy’s wrist before she could retreat.
“Elbows up,” Ms. Reeves ordered, nudging Lucy’s arm higher. Lucy gasped as she felt the bar of soap rub roughly over her armpits, the teacher’s touch lingering just a little too long. The water sluiced between her thighs, carrying away the last streaks of mud.
“Head back.” A rough palm tilted Lucy’s chin up, forcing her to face the showerhead directly. Water stung her eyes as Ms. Reeves dragged the soap down her spine, then lower, between the cleft of her ass.
“They’ll keep doing it,” the woman muttered, almost to herself, as her hands scrubbed between Lucy’s legs, her fingers pressing too firmly against her genitals and the insides of her thighs. “Weakness invites cruelty.”
Ms. Reeves finally stepped back. “Clean now.” She tossed the soap onto the tiles. “Dress quickly.”
Is every teacher in this fucking place a perverted lesbian? Lucy thought bitterly as she crept into the changing room. The other girls were dressed and walking out, and she was grateful for the chance to get dried and dressed alone.
Of course, she reckoned without Ms. Reeves, who perved over her naked body while lecturing her.
“You need to toughen up, Lucy. Do some exercise, eat more—that body has less fat on it than a chip.” The older teacher sidled up to Lucy and touched her bare shoulder, her fingers tracing down her arm. “Perhaps if you want ... I can coach you after school. Maybe some self-defense, give you some confidence...”
“Erm ... sorry, Miss, I have too much schoolwork...” Lucy mumbled, hastily throwing on her blouse. She was almost dressed, but ... Where the hell were her knickers?
Half an hour later, Lucy got her answer, and it was worse than she could have imagined.
She sat in English class, legs crossed tightly beneath her desk, her thighs pressing together in a desperate attempt to hide the secret burning beneath her skirt: she wasn’t wearing any knickers.
“Hi, Naomi,” Jackie purred, leaning over the aisle toward Naomi, who sat beside Lucy. “Did you do your homework? Can you show me how you did this?”
Naomi looked up, suspicion flashing in her eyes—but before she could react, Jackie pressed what looked like a crumpled book against her face. It wasn’t a book.
“Mmmmmfff!” Naomi muffled, struggling as Jackie laughed, shoving Lucy’s stolen knickers against her mouth. The smaller girl batted at Jackie’s arm, but it was useless. The other girls crowded in, their laughter sharp and cruel.
Lucy’s blood ran cold. Those were hers.
“Hey!” Lucy blurted desperately.
“What? Why?” Jackie taunted, dangling the fabric in front of Lucy’s flushed face. “These yours?”
“No...” Lucy lied, her cheeks burning crimson.
Beri grabbed her wrist, yanking her forward. “Then let’s see what knickers you are wearing, huh?” she sneered, grabbing the hem of Lucy’s skirt, tugging it up.
“Nooo!” Lucy squeaked, twisting away. “Nooo, help—!”
She finally wrenched free, but not before Jackie twirled the stolen panties in her fingers, then flicked them across the room, toward the boys.
Lucy didn’t want to grab them and admit they were hers. But the thought of the boys sniffing them, passing them around, laughing at the scent of her—no.
“Whose are those?” asked one of the cute boys Lucy had secretly liked.
“Lucy’s,” Jackie sang out, grinning.
The boys burst into laughter, immediately fighting over them like a pack of wolves. Lucy’s despair deepened as they passed the fabric between.
“Stop!” Lucy lunged toward them, but Jackie reached for her again, playfully yanking up her skirt.
Then the door swung open.
“What the hell is going on?” Mr. Ratchford shouted angrily across the room.
The boys went silent. The girls scrambled back to their seats.
Lucy was left standing by herself.
“Alright, McSworley,” Mr. Ratchford said. “Off to the headmistress’ office.”
“Goodness, Ms. McSworley.” Ms. Trunchbull’s voice was dripping with feigned disappointment as she loomed over Lucy. “After that talk from your mother at church, I would have thought you’d be on your best behavior—especially since she’s begged me to tutor you personally.”
Her gray hair was pulled back into its usual severe bun, her thick glasses hiding the calculations in her cold grey eyes. A faint, cruel smile played at the corners of her mouth as she circled behind Lucy, fingers idly twirling a strand of the girl’s red hair.
“I haven’t told your poor, suffering mother about your recent naughtiness. This is all between ourselves. But when I tutor you, I’ll have a little more ... freedom to discipline you properly.” She sighed, as if burdened by Lucy’s existence. “For now, though, I’m far too busy to waste time on excuses.”
Lucy winced as Ms. Trunchbull’s hand slid under her skirt, moving upward until it rested on her hip.
“A short, quick spanking should suffice...”
The woman’s fingers stilled. Then, slowly, they traced over the curve of Lucy’s buttocks, down the cleft between her cheeks.
“Child!,” Ms. Trunchbull remarked sharply. “You are not wearing any panties!”
“Ms. Trunchbull, I’m sorry—it was the girls, they stole my underwear at hockey, I—” Lucy’s words tumbled out in a rush.
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