Petty Thievery

seriously…the places my mind goes in the shower…it’s downright frightening at times…! All to your good, pervie peeps, all to your good. ~nilla~


“You stole from me”

“I…I di..dn’t…Mr. Morgan….” Her response was breathy.

“Stop it. No more lies. I know you stole from me.”

He nodded at the two men who were always in attendance. They took her by her arms, tugging her easily across the room, stopping in front of the built-in television monitor in the wall. Mr. Morgan raised a remote and a black and white picture appeared.  Her breath froze in her throat. There she was, looking stealthily around, then opening his top desk drawer, and removing a bank envelope. She saw herself pull out the bills and count them. Five, there were five of the one-hundred dollar notes. Barely able to tug a breath into her burning lungs, she watched herself  lift the hem of her sweater, and stuff the bills into her lace bra. Her hands quickly put the empty bank envelope back into the drawer, before shutting it. Lastly, she placed the files she’d been told to bring to him on his desk. Taking one last furtive look around, she walked out of the frame.

Oh. My. Gawd. He’d had security cameras in his office the entire time. She was totally fucked. Her heart pounded so hard it was a miracle no one else could hear it. His voice was firm, jolting her out of her frightened reverie.

“You owe me.”

There was no swallowing the huge lump of fear in her throat.

“Hold her.”

In one fluid movement he rose from the chair where he’d perched to watch her watch the video  of her theft. Slowly his hands moved over her, squeezing her tits firmly before sliding his hands up and under her pink camisole. Skin on skin, those fingers searched her bra most carefully.

“I can’t say that your bra is empty, because it’s certainly full of tit, but, alas, no cash here.”

With a suddenness that shocked her, he yanked her skirt up over her hips. Her gasp made him smile, a chilling thing to see. In his smile she saw a glee that frightened her more than any words he might have said. His hands peeled away the thin barrier of her pantyhose, pushed aside the illusion of protection of her panties and roughly searched the hot valley between her legs. His eyes never broke contact, pinning her in place with the fierceness in them as his fingers pressed inside of her.

“Cunt is empy…oops…not now of course….”

Helpless to stop the yips and moans as his fingers dug deeply into her pussy, she shifted, trying to move away, but his men held her tightly while he fingered her. With a sigh, he looked down at her, shaking his head. His hand fell away, and they were gone, those invading digits. She flushed with embarrassment as he wiped the dampness of her pussy on her cheek.

“Check her asshole.”

Hands pushed her over, held her even as she squealed in protest. Thick fingers swirled around her cunt then pressed hard against her anus. She yelped when the first finger entered her, moaned when a second one joined it. Again the pain and embarrassment fought for the lead. She whimpered, shifting, trying to move, trying to stop the invading fingers up her butt. It fucking hurt. It felt like he was sticking his whole hand up there. It felt like he was going to explore every inch of her bowels. The fingers thrust and twisted, and she moaned and whined. A quick slap to her cheek and a ‘hush your mouth’ didn’t stop her from trying to ease her ass away from the assaulting hand. At long last they pulled out, leaving her feeling intensely relieved.

“Nothin’ in there but shit,” came the deep voice of one of them, then came the feeling and scent of poop being wiped across her ass.

“You owe me restitution.”

Abruptly she was pulled upright. A fist held her head up, looking right into those dangerous smiling eyes once again.

“I…” She started to speak. “oooh” she moaned as the fingers tightened painfully against her scalp.

“Shut up. You need to listen now, and understand the consequences of your actions. I could call the police. Have you arrested. Yet your work here is above par, and frankly, you’re stunning to look at. And yet, I cannot have a petty thief walking around unchecked. But I have a solution. I shall have your work off this debt you have created. Come with me.”

A hard shove and she was free, walking behind her boss, while being trailed by his two thugs. They moved to a door in the wall, thankfully not out to the outer office. She tugged her pantyhose up, her skirt down as they walked through the door and into a capacious bathroom.

“This is the executive bathroom. Where you will spend several hours a day, servicing upper management. There, I think.”

He pointed to a corner near the sink. A heavy leather chair was there, a small table beside it. A series of grab bars on the walls caught her eye.


She shook her head, backing away, bumping into the two men she’d somehow forgotten were there.

“Strip. Or should my men ‘help’ you?”

The sound of cracking knuckles came from behind her. She slipped her camisole over her head.

“The bra, pretty as it is, must also go.”

There was that lump in her throat again. It got bigger as she slid down each strap, delaying the inevitable baring of her breasts.

“Help her.”

The clasp was released; her tits fell free as the bra slipped to the floor. Her wrists were held behind her now, and she felt the kiss of cold steel. The bastard had handcuffed her!

“Consider this ‘house arrest’ during your working break. You owe me $500. You’ll pay that back to me by helping my management team relieve their stress, pay with that lovely body.”

As he spoke her skirt fell to the floor over her bra. In moments her hose was tugged down, her panties ripped away. A pad was thrown on the floor by thug number two; she was pushed across the room and made to kneel upon it.

“Blowjobs will be your number one function, but your pussy, ass, and mouth will all be mine until your debt is paid.”

There was a pause as he drank in the fear on her face.

“And at .50 cents per service ‘visit’…it will take you some time to pay your debt–with interest–in full.”

He strolled away, smiling at the look of horror on her face.  Pausing in the doorway, he looked back at her, at his two men who had remained behind.

“Looks like you’re about to earn your first dollar.”

The sound of releasing zippers and belts echoed in the marble-walled room as he closed the door behind him.




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