The Cat Burglar

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She gets caught stealing and pays the price.
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majicman21
majicman21
1,293 Followers

The ornate doors to Wagner Mansion were wide open in front of Danielle. A tall, imposing man stood before them, checking each guests' ID.

"Evening," he said with perfunctory courtesy.

"Evening to you too," she purred, showing off her invitation and driver's license. His eyes raked over her face, comparing it to the one on the license, and dawdled briefly at her abundant cleavage.

"My husband, Roger, unfortunately had to attend to some business," Danielle said, shaking her head in disappointment, "and he sends his regards and apologies to Mr. Wagner."

He shrugged, obviously uncaring.

"Welcome, Mrs. Ryder," he said, gesturing for her to go inside.

In the spacious, high-ceilinged foyer was a gaggle of well-dressed people, members of the city's elite, the rich and powerful high class. She slunk over to join the crowd, immediately drawing a glance or two.

"Hello," she said, targeting a couple and moving up next to them. The man was older, with graying hair and the body of a linebacker grown old. The woman was younger, blonde, and possessing of curves that rivalled Danielle's.

"Evening," the man said, extending a hand. She took it, and then did the same with the woman.

"My name is Stephanie Ryder," Danielle said.

"I'm Henry Durham," the man said, "and this is my lovely wife, Jessica."

"Are you by yourself this evening?" Jessica asked.

"Yes, unfortunately. My husband had to attend to some overseas business."

Henry frowned. "How unfortunate for him to miss such an event. Sebastian's fundraisers are always so much fun."

She nodded. "Yes, he was loath to leave, but he had to."

Jessica smiled. "We'll keep you company tonight, won't we Henry?"

Henry nodded, his eyes also moving quickly over her cleavage.

The three of them continued to chat. Danielle certainly did not mind the company, as interacting with them kept her from standing out. And Jessica was pretty, resembling any other trophy wife at the fundraiser, but seemingly more intelligent, at least judging from their conversation. Danielle was far from picky with her lovers, but preferred somebody she could talk with afterwards about many different topics.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" called a tremulous voice from one side of the foyer. The crowd turned as one, to see a thin, spindly man standing before a set of tall, oak doors. He had an enthusiastic smile etched across his face, and a bounce in his step as he approached the gaggle.

"Welcome everybody! The night will start in a few moments; Mr. Wagner will address everyone and then we will head inside for some entertainment before dinner. If you need to freshen up before the festivities begin, the bathrooms are on the left."

He opened the doors behind him and retreated into the darkness beyond. The crowd continued to wait, staring expectantly at the reclosed doors, shifting or murmuring impatiently.

After a few minutes, the door opened again. This time, the man crossing the threshold was younger and more handsome.

Danielle had only seen Sebastian Wagner on TV. When she had heard of this fundraiser, it had seemed to her the perfect opportunity. His mansion most likely was filled with priceless treasures, and since he had many, he was likely unconcerned with keeping track of them. In her experience with stealing from the rich, some of them were meticulous in their cataloguing of their possessions. Others, like Sebastian Wagner, cared little. A few treasures lost here or there did not faze them in the slightest.

"Evening, everyone," Sebastian said. His deep voice quieted the crowd.

"I welcome everybody to my home. Please take your seats; the performers will begin in a few minutes."

He stepped aside, and the crowd made its way inside. Danielle found her assigned seat in the ballroom; she was sharing the table with a few couples and one or two who were going stag like her.

After everybody was seated, the lights dimmed. The performers, a trio of Italian opera singers, strode into the center of the room.

Danielle glanced around the room as they began. The guests watched, rapt.

She let a few minutes pass before making her move. Everybody, including Sebastian Wagner, had their eyes on the performers, so she stood, excusing herself to the guests at her table. They paid her no mind as she stepped away.

Nobody was posted at the doors. She walked quickly through the foyer. The bathrooms were to the left; next to the men's room was another door, which led to a service corridor.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone as she hurried along. Saved on it were the schematics Jake had given her. Danielle had never asked how he had gotten them; that part did not matter to her.

Her eyes pored over the schematics, leading her to turn here and there. A staircase led her back up to the first floor. A heavy wooden door stood in her way. It was locked. Danielle quickly took out her gloves, and easily picked said lock.

She continued through the mansion. The upper floors were desolate, as everybody was downstairs, still enjoying the entertainment.

After a few more minutes of exploring, Danielle found a bedroom. It was spacious and seemed seldom-used, but when she opened the drawers and closets, she found a bevy of goods. Bracelets, necklaces, gaudy watches, and many other prizes lay glittering before her. She only had her purse on her, but she did not want a big haul. Having to drag her purse around would arouse suspicion. She selected a few of the smaller pieces, and shoved them deep into her purse.

Just like that, she was headed back downstairs. All she needed to do was slip back inside; if anybody noticed her return and questioned why she had taken so long, she could say it had been stomach problems, or fall back on the always convenient excuse of it being 'her time of the month'.

She was on the second floor, approaching another heavy wooden door, when something hit her from behind. A satisfied chuckle was the last thing she heard before her descent into unconsciousness.

Sometime later, she opened her eyes. She was in a small room, with water damage and cracked paint here and there. Her hands were cuffed to a vertical pipe; they were above her head, her shoulders already feeling awkward. The floor was cold and dirty, her delicate dress a poor barrier against the chill of the tiles.

She glanced around the room for her purse, but it was nowhere to be seen.

The door opened. She expected Sebastian Wagner, but instead the man who appeared was bald and broad, wearing a simple white t-shirt, jeans, and construction boots. Danielle quickly put on her best worried face, thinking back to when her childhood dog died in order to summon tears.

"Hello," he said. "What's your name?"

"Stephanie," she sniffled, "Stephanie Ryder. There - there must be some mistake."

He shook his head. "Did you think it'd be that easy? Did you think he wouldn't have any security?"

Fake tears started to fall. "What do you mean, sir? I have no idea-"

Her pleas were cut off by a backhand across the cheek. She grunted in surprise, her head smacking into the pipe behind her.

"Please, sir, what was that for!?" she squealed.

He chuckled, and held up his phone. A recording played for her, a woman hurrying along a hallway. It was her, from not so long ago.

"He's usually not that sensitive about security," the man said, "but Sebastian had me install cameras just for tonight."

"I was looking for the ladies' room!" she sobbed. "Please, you have to believe me!"

He shook his head again. "The ladies' room was right outside the ballroom. You'd have to be blind to miss it."

"I just wanted to see what the mansion was like!"

"Seems like you got a very good look, judging from what I found in your purse."

Danielle hung her head. He had her; she had been sloppy, underestimating her target. She would have to change her plans, try to think quickly.

When she raised her head, catching him ogling her cleavage, an idea struck her.

She hung her head again and let out a tremulous sigh.

"Ok," she said, looking back up at him. His eyes again flickered back up to her face from her cleavage.

"Ok what?"

"I admit it, I took a few of his things. I just heard that he had a lot of stuff, and I wanted to see for myself. When I saw them, I couldn't resist."

He laughed. "At least you're being honest now."

She sniffled. "I made a stupid mistake. Please, I'll do anything, don't arrest me!"

"I'm not a cop," he corrected. "But the idea of turning you over to them is intriguing."

She shook her head. "Please, I'll do anything, I swear!"

He smiled. "Anything?"

She nodded. Danielle knew where he was going, and if that was the price for her escape, she would pay it.

He reached down to his jeans. She faked surprise, gasping as he unzipped the jeans and pulled them down. A noticeable bulge drew her eye, and then he yanked down the boxers down.

"Suck my cock," he commanded, stepping forward.

Danielle was going to do it. If it meant getting out of this unscathed, it was worth it. But she wanted him to think this was his idea.

"Please, I'm married," she lied.

He grinned. "So what? You said you'd do anything. Suck my cock and I'll let you go."

More tears fell; he was unaffected. She sniffled again, but reluctantly leaned forward, her tongue darting out. It made contact with his prick, the flesh warm and musky. The touch made him swell, made him throb on her tongue. Danielle glanced up at him, doing her best doe-eyes impression, still playing the ingénue, but he just grinned wolfishly.

"We both know you're far from innocent," he said. His cock swelled further, spurred on by her gentle lapping along the shaft. She had done this plenty of times before, but never when tied up.

He was patient for a little while, letting her tease him. But he finally took over, pressing his cock against her lips.

"Open up," he said. As soon as she did, his length began to slide in. She faked a sad whimper as he slid along her tongue.

His grin grew wider, watching as he packed her mouth full of his prick. He was doubtlessly enjoying the power he had over this alluring woman. She began to suck submissively, bathing him in her spit, faking a gag as he pushed into her throat. Danielle was not inexperienced; she had sucked many cocks, and often enjoyed doing so. Even while handcuffed to a pipe, her body was responding to the taste of a man all over her tongue. She could feel her body begin to warm, her mound begin to drip ever so slightly, just enough to prove her arousal.

He pushed forward, shoving deeper into this trapped woman's mouth. The gurgling sounds she made, drooling around his girth, made him grunt in satisfaction.

Another thrust, and he was buried in her throat, his balls pressing at her chin. She could imagine it was an obscene sight, her on her knees with a length of cock in her gullet.

He did not give her much time to adjust. A few seconds after hilting, he pulled back and began a series of punishing thrusts. Her head was jarred over and over by his hips, since she had nothing to steady herself against.

"Fuck, take that dick," he muttered, "right down your thieving throat."

She chuckled, but managed to turn it into a pathetic whimper, still playing the innocent doll act even while feeling her pussy drip a bit more.

Danielle had always enjoyed a little rough trade. This was a bit much, but it was still hot.

He slid a hand into her hair, disturbing her carefully coiffed updo. His fist tightened, and he began to use that grip to slide her open mouth back and forth, his cock still pumping. The result was her lips almost kissing the base, her tongue flicking out here and there, running accidentally along the edge of his testicles, gathering that salty, musky taste. He was using her as essentially a sex toy, grunting and growling as he rutted into her mouth.

She heard the door open. An appreciative whistle came from whoever had entered.

"Fuck, Tony," he heard someone say, "that's one hot bitch right there."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, Phil, she's saying she's innocent but the way she's taking my dick says otherwise."

"Think I could get in on that?" Phil asked.

Danielle squealed onto the cock plugging her throat. The two men laughed at that.

"I can't tell if she's scared or turned on," Tony joked.

"Yeah, could be a bit of both," Phil replied.

In truth, Phil was right. Danielle had been in threesomes before, both with two men and with one man and one woman. But usually she had more power and say; this time, they would take her if they wanted. A part of her, one that was larger than she would like, was perfectly fine with that idea.

"I'm close," Tony grunted. "Once I finish, she's all yours."

Danielle moaned onto his prick. His pace increased, until he was brutally using her mouth, fucking into it with zero concern for her pleasure. Despite his carelessness, her pleasure was in fact there. The way he was handling her, the way he was using her, was arousing her very much. She damned her wanton body as it burned hotter, as her pussy began to drip more juice, staining her panties.

Tony thrust deep, his balls again bruising her chin. She glanced up to him, watching as he threw his head back, letting out a long, low growl. His cock throbbed powerfully in her throat as his load raced up his shaft.

The first blast shot straight down her throat. After that, he quickly pulled back, letting the rest spurt out onto her tongue. She could not help but moan at the strong taste pooling at the back of her mouth. His grip was still tight in her hair, so she could not escape from it. Even if she could have, she would have stayed put.

He finished coating her tongue in cum, and yanked himself from her mouth.

"Open up, let me see it," he ordered.

Danielle blushed, but obeyed him anyway. His semen sat like a creamy puddle, resting on her tongue. The flavor was sizzling onto her taste buds.

"Swallow it."

She gave him a saucy smile, aware that such a thing could shatter the image she had been trying to cultivate, of a naïve young thing. But he had been able to see through that, so it made no difference. Her mouth closed, and her throat worked as she swallowed his gift, feeling the warmth slide down her gullet.

"Good job," he said.

"My turn," said Phil, stepping up impatiently.

Danielle turned to look at him. He was younger than Tony, but just as physically imposing. Her pussy dripped at the sight of his thick cock jutting into the air.

"Wait," she said as he came within inches of her.

"What?" Phil asked, momentarily hesitating.

"You can have more than my mouth," she purred, standing up, her handcuffs trailing along the pipe.

Tony scowled, but Phil grinned. He came closer, putting hand on her hip. As she locked eyes with him, biting her lip suggestively, he slid the hand down to the hem of her dress. It snuck underneath, Danielle letting out a rather dramatic gasp. Her panties were quickly slid down and kicked away. She squirmed against the pipe as he next pushed up her dress, revealing her soaked slit. Phil let out another appreciative whistle, at the sight of those pink lips, crowned with a strip of dark brown hair, at the view he had of her juices, having vacated her pussy to slick her upper thighs.

"Looks like she enjoyed what you were doing," he commented.

Tony grunted, his pants pulled back up, already turning to go to the door.

"Jealous?" Phil teased. "You get her mouth, but I get her pussy?"

Tony grunted again, slipping outside, leaving them alone.

Danielle contemplated escaping. She could immobilize Phil with a few well-placed kicks, and with a few extra minutes, could figure out an escape. It would not be the first time she needed to escape a precarious situation.

But when Phil grabbed hold of her hips, hoisting her into the air, she decided to go with the flow. Her pussy was already hungry for cock; she was not about to deny it such a treat. Her dress was bunched further up her thighs, leaving Phil with a perfect target. The broad head of his length nestled against her slick slit. She wriggled with her back pressed into the pipe, gasping as he shoved inside, quickly filling her channel with hard flesh.

He groaned, burying his head in her neck. She clamped down on him as he shoved deeper.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted.

She giggled, locking her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, until their hips met. The giggle became a moan when he gave a thrust, stirring up her juices. Another moan, and he was off to the races, screwing into her pussy as hard and fast as he could. She imagined he did not think he would last long.

One of his hands moved from her thighs, and found the top of her dress. He yanked down, revealing her strap-less bra. The tops of her breasts became a landing pad for his mouth, her back arching as he kissed along the heaving flesh. Another rough yank, and her breasts were revealed, her bra left hanging off her chest. His mouth moved to a breast, and he sucked greedily, making her gasp, tossing her head back to accidentally smack against the pipe.

The dull ache the collision induced was nothing compared to the delightful pleasure Phil was providing down low. Her pussy clutched greedily at the length pumping through her channel. She squirmed against him, pulling surreptitiously against the handcuffs as she did. The pipe did not seem to be the most stable, so perhaps their combined efforts could get her free. That mission was at the back of her mind, however, second to the mission to get off. If she broke free, that would be great, but if she did not then she would still have some sort of victory.

Phil of course did not notice her attempts to loosen the pipe from the wall. He kept sucking at her breasts, moving from nipple to nipple, his spit glistening on her flesh. His prick moved powerfully inside her, each hard thrust pushing her higher and higher along the climb to climax. His soft grunts and pleased groans filled her ears, accompanying her squeals and moans as she took the fucking, jostled in his grasp.

"Harder," she moaned. He grunted in reply, biting down on a breast, upping the efforts, pounding mindlessly into her cunt. She whined at the roughness, her pussy on the verge of drenching him, her body tensing as the pleasure swirled all around her. He continued to leave harsh little bites all over her chest, perhaps seeking to mark that pale flesh.

Their bodies writhed against each other, sweat rolling from one body to the other. Her back and shoulders were starting to burn from being stuck in that same pose.

Her body shifted slightly, allowing for a particularly deep thrust. The result was her orgasm rushing upon her faster, hitting her partway through the following thrust. She gasped, her pussy gushing onto Phil's prick. He grunted with a mouthful of her breast, feeling her bathe his length in her cream, feeling her pussy clench on him, those extra sensations pushing him to his own release.

After a few seconds, his movement stilled, and she felt the spurts of warmth in her core. Phil groaned as he filled her pussy, stumbling slightly in the midst of his release. She answered his groan with one of her own, still ensconced in her own comfortable climax. He held tight to her body to anchor himself as his spurts died down. As they shared those few moments of post-coital afterglow, she made a mental note to pick up a morning-after pill once she got out of there.

Phil set her back down. Her legs shook a little, but she leaned back against the pipe.

The door opened again. It was Tony, but Sebastian Wagner followed him through.

"This is the thief?" he asked Tony. Tony nodded, arms crossed on his chest.

"Please, Mr. Wagner, I'm sorry, it was stupid," she whimpered.

He nodded, his eyes raking over her. They took long looks at her heaving breasts, and then down to her glistening slit.

majicman21
majicman21
1,293 Followers
12