Klepto

"That young lady you asked us to watch for has just entered the store."

One of my minions broke the happy news to me. The young lady concerned was about twenty and was a petty thief and always seemed to get away with it. As far as I was concerned enough was enough and that woman had reached the limit and marched straight past it. She was reasonably well off and always promptly offered to pay for any goods that she'd absent-mindedly slipped into her pocket. It was her heart-felt apologies and willingness to immediately pay the cost of the goods along with a certain winsome appeal that had kept her out of trouble.

"Have someone keep an eye on her and as soon as she slips something into her pocket have her brought to see me. Don't bother waiting until she tries to leave the store without paying. Just haul her in."

"Ah, you realise that if we do that we can't charge her with anything. She's not officially guilty until she tries to leave the store without paying."

"I know. I'm not trying to crucify her. I just want to issue a warning that she'll have to take seriously. Knowing we're watching her will help."

Five minutes. That was all it took. There was a knock on the door and then Mike was ushering our pretty little thief in.

"Thanks, Mike," I said. "I'll take it from here."

Mike left and I indicated that she should take a seat.

"Why have I been brought here?" she demanded.

"Good morning, Miss Evans. May I call you Michelle? I'm Roy. I'm in charge of security here. If you look around you'll notice that I don't have any recording equipment here and I'm not giving you any formal warnings. This is strictly an off the record chat. The reason that you're here is because you're a sneaky little thief and I'm sick of it. Your latest attempt is currently sitting in your right pocket."

Mike had tapped his jacket to indicate where her putative loot was.

"You mean this?" she demanded, hauling out a tube of lipstick. An expensive brand and one that would probably suit her. "I wasn't trying to steal it and you can't say I was. I'd have paid for it before I left the store. There's no way you can say I was trying to steal it."

She was righteously indignant, confident that we'd over-reached grabbing her before she made the actual attempt.

"Quite right," I agreed. "That's why we grabbed you early. I didn't really want to have this chat while you were sitting in a police interview room. This way we can both agree that you've done nothing wrong. Yet."

"In that case I don't need to sit here and listen to you," she snapped, jumping to her feet.

"Sit down and shut up," I snapped right back. "If you try to leave you will be permanently barred from this store and from all the major stores in the mall."

She sat back down in a hurry.

"You can't do that," she gasped. "I'd sue."

"We can do that. We're a private company and can choose who we deal with. As long as we don't discriminate on race or religion or one of those things we can bar you. There's no protection for sneak thieves."

"How dare you?" If she'd been standing she'd have been dancing up and down in her temper. "I'm not a thief."

"Three times, by my counting, you've been caught leaving the store without paying for something. Each time you were terribly apologetic and saying you were distracted by something and just forgot, offering to pay on the spot. In cash at that, so you weren't caught trying to sneak something onto a full credit card."

"I have ample credit on my cards," she protested. "I just like to pay cash when I'm buying things. That's why I had the money on me. It wasn't my fault."

"I'd be more willing to believe that if I hadn't seen you going through the same rigmarole at another store," I said, smiling.

I don't think she liked the look of my smile. I don't know why? I've always been told I had a nice smile.

"I am just letting you know that the next time you get caught there will be repercussions, and you will be caught because we'll be watching you. You're now on our list of people to be watched. I will be quite willing to press charges and see you in the dock in court. You will find it a very lowering experience and you'll find the judge will not be quite as gullible as lowly sales people. You're an adult and you'll face the consequences as an adult."

"But it's not my fault," she said, starting to cry. "Honest it's not. I don't want to take things but something just makes me. Alright, I admit it. I'm a kleptomaniac. Are you satisfied that you've made me admit it? I'm getting treatment. Honest I am. I've even got a letter in my purse from my doctor explaining my affliction."

"I'm sure you have and I don't believe a word of it. I assume that your parents called a psych the first time you got caught and the fool believed you. Well, he would, wouldn't he? He gets paid for believing you and treating you."

"You don't believe me? Are you saying you know better than the psychiatrist who's treating me?"

"That's precisely what I'm saying. I'm saying you're a thief, plain and simple. You do it because you get a kick out of getting away with it and you think you can bribe or cry your way out of any real trouble. Not going to happen next time. Next time there will be real consequences."

"How dare you!"

"You keep saying that. Tell me, do you know what a kleptomaniac does?"

She looked at me a little blankly, not quite understanding the question.

"Ah, they steal things. They can't help it. It's just something they do."

"Quite right. It's interesting that you say it's something that they do rather than something you do. Do you know what sort of things they steal?"

She shook her head, still not getting what I was driving at.

"They steal anything that comes to hand. We do get the occasional real klepto and we keep an eye on them, relieving them of their goods on the way out. Some of them we even provide with a hiding spot so they can stash their loot. After they leave we just empty the stash and put the stuff away. It keeps them and us happy.

As to what they steal, whatever is convenient. It doesn't matter if they have a use for it or not. They're like magpies, grabbing pretties as they go. One woman was stealing cat litter because she found she could. She had fifty boxes of it at her home. She doesn't even own a cat.

We have one old lady who steals balls. All sorts of balls. Golf, tennis, ping pong, play, etc. She even tried to sneak out a fully inflated beach ball. She seemed quite surprised that we spotted her carrying off a ball with a three foot diameter.

You, on the other hand, only try to walk out with things that you can use. Not things that you'd give away but things you, personally, would use."

I looked significantly at the lipstick she'd intended to hoist.

"Not a klepto," I said, shaking my head, "but a common thief, in it for the kicks. Your fun ends now. Pick a new hobby. Maybe flower arranging or martial arts. Now why don't you run along and try to behave."

She bounced to her feet, glaring at me.

"You wouldn't dare have me arrested. Not when I've got that letter from my doctor. As long as I'm getting treated you can't touch me. It's not my fault I'm taking things because I'm sick."

"You keep telling yourself that. Just remember, if you get caught just once more I'll personally see that there are consequences and that you won't like them."

She turned away, flouncing towards the door. Just as she was about to open it I called out.

"Michelle."

"What?" she demanded, swinging back to face me.

"I believe you wanted to buy some lipstick," I said, indicating the tube still sitting on my desk.

She snatched the lipstick up, gave me a killer of a look, and flounced out of the room. I wondered how much of what I said got through to her.

None of it, apparently. Fifteen minutes later Mike knocked on the door and ushered Michelle back into the room. He placed three lipsticks on the desk.

"She tried to walk out with these in her pocket. When I pulled her up she said she forgot because she was so upset with you pulling her in for a lecture when she hadn't done anything. She offered to pay but I thought maybe she should discuss it with you."

"Thank you, Mike. Would you care to take a seat, Michelle?"

"Want me to call the police now?" asked Mike and I smiled as Michelle blanched.

"I don't think so. I'm sure that I can have a very informative little talk with Michelle and make her understand the errors of her ways."

Mike departed and I sat back, looking at Michelle and smiling. Once again she seemed to find my smile a little unsettling.

"This is all your fault," she snapped.

"Mine?"

"Yes. You deliberately goaded me into trying and you know it."

"Really? Tell me, what part of 'you will be caught because we will be watching you' did you fail to understand?"

"Doesn't matter. Call the police. I don't care. I'll get off with a warning and ordered to continue seeing Doctor Berenson."

I rose from my chair and stretched. Michelle blinked at that and looked a little nervous because I am rather a large lad. Over six foot and beefy with it. She was almost childish compared to me. I strolled around the desk and stood in front of her.

"You look like a little girl curled up in the chair like that," I observed.

Her eyes flashed fire and she straightened up.

"I'll bet that where your problems stem from," I said. "You were such an adorable child that no-one said no to you even when it was in your best interest. Maybe I can help make up for this lack."

"What do you mean?" she asked, sounding dreadfully suspicious.

Really, it's quite disheartening at times. Here am I, about to go out of my way to help this poor benighted young lady, and she gets all suspicious. It's a distrustful world we live in.

"Stand up," I told her and she did so, moving reluctantly. I think she plain didn't want to do anything I might suggest.

I promptly sat down and jerked her over my lap, face down. Fortunately she was wearing a dress and it was a simple matter to flick it clear of her bottom.

"I," I told her, "am going to give you a spanking. Something you've obviously needed for a while. Feel free to scream. The room is sound proof and you won't be heard. We had to have the sound-proofing done because you wouldn't believe the language that some people scream at you when they get caught."

"You wouldn't dare," she stated, trying to sound confident.

Her confidence diminished with a bit of a squeak when I lowered her panties, leaving her with her bare bottom pointing at the ceiling.

"I'm an adult, damn you," she snarled at me. "You can't do this to me."

Her legs were nicely parted so I slipped my hand between them, closing over her mound.

"Um, if you insist we can go straight to an adult type punishment," I told her, my hand gently rubbing her.

"Get your hand off me," she told me through gritted teeth. "How dare you touch me like that?"

"How dare you take things that aren't yours?" I asked in return. "It doesn't cost the store, you know. We just hike up the prices a little to cover people like you. Everyone else is paying for your crime."

I'd continued rubbing while I gave her my mini-lecture and I could feel her pussy responding, no matter what she might want.

"Move. Your. Hand."

I could actually hear the capitals in each word as she said it. I started rubbing more firmly.

"That was strange," I murmured. "I'd have thought you'd prefer me to remove it rather than to keep rubbing."

She made a noise that sounded as though a cat was being strangled. (Not that I've ever strangled one but if I had I'm sure that's what it would have sounded like.)

"Oh, that is what you meant," I said innocently. "You'd rather I got on with the spanking."

"Yes," she shouted. Paused for one horrified second and yelled, "No," just as loudly.

Too late as my hand had already come down very firmly on her backside. Then it was on for young and old, her being the young. She wailed and sobbed and apologised, although she was doing it a lot more quietly now. I suspected that she was afraid someone might come in and witness her humiliation. Having a witness would have killed her.

Did I mention that her pussy had been responding when I gave her that little massage? It was responding even more to the spanking, apparently finding it the most exciting thing it had encountered that day. I could practically see her lips getting fat and puffy, a blush covering them as her inner lips started to flower. To let it know I approved I dropped a firm slap onto her lips, cupping her mound quite nicely.

Michelle said a rude word at that but I noticed that her legs remained nicely parted, her pussy a freely offered target.

I brought the spanking to a close, leaving my hand resting on her pussy, continuing to gently rub it.

"Do you now understand what I mean about consequences?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said, giving a frantic nod. "Ah, your hand?"

"What about my hand? Oh, you mean where it is? Well, about that. You've just had the little girl's punishment. Do you think you're capable of handling the big girl's punishment?"

"What do you mean?" she demanded, and I let a couple of fingers slip between her lips, sliding quite deeply into her.

"You wouldn't" was her horrified comment. Horrified wasn't the reaction I was getting from down below.

"Yes, I would," I contradicted her, "but only if you feel you're capable of handling it. That sort of punishment can be quite brutal, you know."

She didn't say anything, just lay there feebly squirming about, her pussy rubbing against my hand as much as my hand rubbing against her.

"You're not sure," I said sympathetically. "I can understand that. I'll tell you what. I'll commence the adult punishment and if you think it's too much for you to handle we'll let it go."

"What do you mean?" she demanded, but I was already swinging her back onto her feet. I pushed her forward so she was bent over the desk, lifting up her dress from where it had fallen back down and tucking it into her belt. I was now standing behind her, my hand once more rubbing her.

"What are you doing?" she was gabbling. "What are you doing?"

My cock was now out and rubbing against her and I could practically hear her mouth snap shut. Then I was starting to push into her and she started yapping again, very quietly this time.

"Oh my god, oh my god, he's really doing it. Don't panic. You can handle this. It's just a punishment. Nothing to worry about. Oh my god, how much of him is there?"

"Ah, you will stop if I say so?" she gasped, needing that reassurance.

"Certainly," I lied. "I'm not a brute. If you think you can't handle what I'm doing then just say so. I'll fully understand."

The devil would be hiring out skates before she'd admit that she couldn't handle what I was dishing out. Apart from that I could feel her reaction and her body was in full agreement with what I was doing, no matter what her brain might try to dictate.

She started muttering to herself again, even as my cock banged home nice and hard, my groin rubbing against her.

Perhaps I should have started off slowly and built up to a decent pace but I had said that the punishment might be brutal so I thought brutal was what I should deliver. I pulled back and drove in again, nice and hard, my groin slapping hard against her. For her part Michele had gasped and pushed back hard against me as soon as she felt my cock lunging back in.

I kept on drilling home, almost lifting her off her feet I was thrusting home so hard, and the only sound she made was a series of excited squeaks as our bodies slapped together. Somehow or other I didn't think she'd be able to find the breath to suggest that I stop.

My own excitement was building up nicely. Her passage was wrapped around me as tight as a glove and flesh rubbing against flesh was heating both of us. She was well lubricated, letting me slip in and out with ease, even if it was a tight fit. I had this odd feeling that if it wasn't for her lubrication we'd have both burst into flames.

The way I was feeling I have to admit that I might just burst into flame anyway. My entire body was heated and that fire was centred in my balls, which were screaming for relief. I have never been so relieved as when I sensed that Michelle was about to climax. (Or putting on a very good imitation of it.)

I stepped on the gas, not that I had much left to step on, and that last little bit was enough to send me over the edge, blowing up in a big way. I was just relieved to find that it was also enough to send Michelle into a climax, her whole body going rigid and then starting to shake. St Vitus's dance had nothing on Michelle's reactions.

Breathing hard Michelle grabbed some tissues from the box on my desk (I tend to have a number of crying women in my office. Tissues are a must.) and tidied herself up. Looking around she spotted her panties and hurriedly pulled them on, pointedly not looking at me as she did so.

"We'll consider this your last warning," I said quietly, which was harder than it sounds as I was still trying to catch up on my breathing. "You should now realize that there are consequences to your actions."

"Message received," she said, and I was pleased to note that she was still breathing heavily. "If I screw up, consequences. I'll just have to make sure I don't screw up."

I did not trust the look on her face as she left. I really did not trust it. Just what sort of consequences did she expect? More of the same?