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Lucy Redux:

My name is Lucy Matthews. I am just eighteen years of age. The last eighteen days, though, have been as trying as all those years combined.

It started innocently enough. Instead of joining my parents on their yearly summer holiday throughout Europe, I chose to stay with Aunt Sophie in her quaint little stone cottage in the English countryside. It, of course, has turned out to be one of the warmest and sunniest summers the U.K. has seen in years. Fortunately, Auntie had an inground pool behind the stone walls of her lovely garden.

I had taken full advantage of this luxury, honing my body in daily fifty lap sprints. In a few weeks, I had already dropped a dress size, my light skin bronzed, and my dishwater blonde hair bleached platinum. I enjoyed watching the muscles ripple under the tawny skin of my newly minted 5' 2" frame. The feel of my 'six-pack' abdominal muscles as I grazed my hand over my belly was a new thrill.

I apparently wasn't the only one enjoying my new attributes. I had thought of Aunt Sophie as more of a friend than a relative. She would take an interest in my seeing people and going out on the town, but I was just too shy to do so in a new place. Finally, she seemed to give up, but would sit with me on the lounges by the pool and let me enjoy a little wine with her as she told me what she'd learned in life.

It hadn't been a long life, though. Sophie was a beautiful woman in her late thirties. Statuesque and blonde, her body busty with womanly curves in all the right places. I soon found, in later weeks, she enjoyed my curves as well. Snooping in her well-appointed bedroom, I discovered a small gilt telescope trained on my tanning lounge, as well as pictures taken with said scope.

My discovery of her secret obsessions didn't stop there. I also discovered she had bondage gear and a revolver, not to mention a full-coverage catsuit of black in her wardrobe.

I soon seemed to become the lonely widow's pet project, her only daughter studying abroad for the summer. She would take me into town to her salon, each time becoming a little more involved. First it was hair conditioning, then it was a makeover, then a manicure and a pedicure. Finally, I felt she went too far, she had them give me a full bodywax. Formally eighteen and never been kissed, I now had my privates denuded by total strangers. She excused it as the reason for the new bikini she bought me. Gone was the standard white bikini, in it's place was a blue metallic lowrider thong. She told me she'd help tailor my remaining clothes to 'let my light shine out from under the bushel', as she put it.

My slippery slope into wanton debauchery was just beginning. I had caught Auntie touching herself 'down there' while she was looking at my pictures and something inside me just seemed to unravel from there. I would find myself in her room when she was out, trying the handcuffs and dildos I had found there. It felt so good and naughty to be doing that to myself, after allowing myself to do nothing of the sort all these years.

The day Aunt Sophie caught me was probably the real turning point in our relationship. I had found some videotape of her dalliances with men in a hotel room, seemingly for money. While laying in her bed,watching, I fucked myself with the VCR remote. Auntie entered, dressed in the same little sweater and mini outfit I had seen in the video. No guess as to where she had come from. She was understandably upset, both at my invasion of her privacy and being caught as a pro. From then on, it was nothing for me to be used as her sextoy. She always threatened she would tell my straight-laced parents what I had done if I didn't cooperate fully.

My libido newly awakened, I didn't put up much of a fight. In fact, I went in search of more naughty delights. After visiting the city, and getting myself used and abused by some horny old men on the way, I bought a webcam and set it up with the new laptop Daddy had given me to help with my University classes in the fall. I seemed to be the toast of the web, attracting quite a following, not to mention a good side income, by masturbating live, in front of an enthusiastic interactive audience. They seemed to love my roleplaying, especially my British schoolgirl.

Auntie's chums all seemed to be women. And she wasn't adverse to letting them sample my wares as well, usually accompanied by a strap-on dildo. On her weekend 'holidays', I would accompany her as a mother/daughter act, dressed in matching outfits for her paying customers. The results were recorded for later consumption by her bedside. It continued like this, loved by women by day, and lusted after by strangers at night.

As I said, it was eighteen days ago my world began to crumble. First, there was seeing a violent act in Sophie's kitchen as I was coming down for a midnight snack. Her one familiar male visitor had struggled with some other man I did not recognise, though he was dressed in black as they were. Then, I saw him drag the man's limp body out of the room. What looked like diamonds sparkled on a pile in the table.

Six days later, I realize Auntie's helpful tailoring was more like butchering as my little summer outfit of baby tee and cutoffs exposed more of me than planned on an excursion to the market. She had made my shirt so small I couldn't move without my boobs popping out. My cutoffs' skimpy crotch ripped completely apart as I readied for the bike ride home, and was forced to show off my pantiless butt and vagina all the way back to Auntie's. Back at the cottage, I looked to find something suitable to wear, outside of my usual household wardrobe of bikini and sandals. Nothing was really suitable for public consumption. All the shorts were practically thongs in back, all the skirts barely covered my crotch, much less my high-riding twin orbs of girlish assflesh. The tops all stopped at my nipples and my undies were nothing more than a couple of skimpy g-strings. When I confronted Sophie when she returned home that night, she just laughed, saying I would just have to stay at home with her then.

A week of being Auntie's private Barbie dressup fuckdoll went by when I got the most devastating news to date. It was a surprisingly wet, dreary day in this summer of the sun when I answered the door while Auntie was out. Two policemen entered, looking somewhat surprised at my wardrobe. I had on a sweatshirt due to the cool weather, though the hem allowed the bottoms of my pendulous tits to show. Fortunately, they didn't see the back of my sweatpant briefs as I ushered them in to sit.

The one man tried to comfort me without touching my naked flesh as the other informed me my parents had both been killed in a traffic accident in Greece. The tears flowed for what seemed like hours as they stayed and waited with me until Auntie returned.

After attending the funeral,( Sophie at least let me wear a long black dress of hers) it was decided Sophie would act as legal guardian until I finished my schooling. I wasn't so sure about this, but I wasn't in any condition to argue. We decided my old home stored too many painful memories and sold it, putting the money toward my college fund. I was going to live with Auntie for the next four years. My parents' insurance would also help provide for me,as soon as legal matters were settled.

Then came the final blow to my already fragile little world. Just two nights ago, I was awakened by red and blue flashing lights. As I stood at the top of the staircase, I watched the two policemen, who had so comforted me days earlier, cuff Sophie's hands behind her back and lead her towards the door. Auntie caught my gaze, crying softly, "I'm sorry lambchop," before she was escorted out the door and, presumably, out of my life.

Uncle Ken Dahl was my nearest relative, and it was with him and his lawyers that I spent the majority of the last day. He had now assumed legal guardianship of me and my estate until I completed school. Sophie, apparently, wouldn't be out anytime soon. She had been implicated in various crimes, from prostitution and burglary to grand larceny and conspiracy to murder.

I hadn't seen much of Uncle Ken the last few years. He was usually travelling here and there on business. He said this would soon stop, though, so I wouldn't have to be alone any longer. He had made his money in the dotcom business and got out before it went bust. He could now afford to live on his investments with no future worries.

Though he was only a few years older than Sophie, he had always been too busy to marry and settle down, and remained a bachelor. He wasn't a bad-looking man, though, kind of barrel-chested and furry, with wire-rimmed reading glasses. I felt that same intensity when he looked at me that I remembered with Aunt Sophie.

I now sat in a private car Uncle Ken provided for my trip back to what was Auntie's cottage. My wardrobe still mainly rags, I wore the long black dress Sophie had offered me for the funeral. I perused the three options for my future Ken and his team had proposed, now lit before me on my laptop.

---I would remain at Auntie's residence ( with cousin Anastacia ) and Uncle would soon join us, thus providing me with a familiar home after all my recent turmoil.

---I would wait an extra year to go to University, boarding at a special finishing school that Uncle says would provide extra help in re-establishing the confidence I lost during the events of recent days, as well as during Auntie's manipulations.

---I would reside with Uncle and Stacy at his near-mansion, some distance away.

What's next?

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