The Price of Embezzlement Ch. 01

As if he can read my mind, he speaks again, interrupting my thoughts. "You know, if you decide to try to take me down with you... to report me for my current misconduct, and crash and burn with me, I'll probably let you. I detest lying, and I really don't want a scandal... dodging accusations, pretending I'm someone I'm not. That seems incredibly troublesome. I suppose you would know about that better than anyone, huh?" The tiny, sly grin on his face says more than his words ever could. "Worse case scenario, I'll probably be forced to resign." He shrugs disinterestedly. "That wouldn't be the worst thing. I've played the stock market pretty successfully in the past decade... I don't really need this job. I've just continued working for prudence sake... But if you feel like going to prison in order to force me into an early retirement, be my guest.

All of my swirling thoughts about retaliation sputter out and die. He has me exactly where he wants me. But there must be a way out! If he would just see how crazy this is, maybe I can leave this situation with my dignity intact. I bite my lower lip, fighting to hold the words inside. I can feel my tears welling up at the edges of my eyes, and I know my mascara is about to run.

Out of all my objections, the dumbest, most pathetic excuse is the one that rises to my lips. "I'm... I'm wearing pantyhose..."

Brent's smile doubles, and finally I see the look of lascivious delight that I would have expected the entire time. "I only require your panties, although I'll take your pantyhose as well, if you prefer. It's your call. I'm nothing if not fair." His whole face is beaming with a rapacious glow, which grips my soul in a stranglehold.

"So... I have to... undress... and..."

Again, he chuckles, a deep amused laugh which seems so innocent... so much different than the vile request which he's made. He nods thoughtfully. "Undressing is the standard method of retrieving one's undergarments, I believe. But I'm a gentleman. I won't stare."

He turns his chair, ever so slightly. I know that he can see me in his periphery, but the fact that he isn't gawking removes far more tension than I would have ever imagined. My hands are trembling like dry leaves. Every nerve within my body is on edge, as I slowly... painstakingly slowly, raise them up beneath my skirt. I can't do this. I can't... there's just no way!

My eyes dart over to the office door. It's currently unlocked. If I agree to go through with this, and someone walks in... Brent must have noticed the glance, because he speaks again, his deep voice dripping with masculine authority. "Don't worry about someone interrupting us. No one would dare open the door without my permission."

I want to shake my head, to exclaim that he's wrong, but I know better. The man truly has a commanding presence. Everyone within this company respects his authority... I'm the only one who's dared to double-cross him, and clearly, I'm suffering for it.

Somehow, my body continues to move as if on autopilot. The fabric of my bottoms slowly rises, pressed upward by my hands. I try to keep my skirt as low as possible, but getting to my pantyhose and my undergarments beneath requires me to lift the skirt no matter how much I try to prevent it. The skirt rises up high enough to expose my legs all the way up to my hips. Oh God... My ass is fully visible now...! I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out this horror.

Beneath my pantyhose, I'm wearing delicate pink panties, with a single, white heart in the center. I think I'm going to die of embarrassment! They clash entirely with my outfit, and I didn't choose them to show off! I can feel heat on my face, but for fuck sake! I wasn't planning on getting undressed for anyone today! My brain cannot decide which would be more embarrassing; simple, boring panties... or sexy, lacy ones. It doesn't matter either way. I'm screwed.

I cannot believe I am doing this, and yet somehow I am. I know that my face is blushed, completely red. Looking back on all the interactions I've had with my boss in the past, I can't recall him ever showing any real attraction to me. He was always so professional. And yet now he wants my panties. How can this be real? How can anything that has happened today be reality?

Hooking my thumbs into the pantyhose, I start to pull downward. As the material begins to descend, another thought touches my mind. Which way should I face? If I turn my back to my boss, he can continue to stare at my ass, but if I face him...! The following thought is too awful to ponder, and I turn my back on Brent. I want to believe that he's continuing to look away, but a real part of my psyche knows that he has turned and begun to stare directly at me now.

I lower the soft fabric downward, over the curves of my rear, and down the feminine shape of my legs. My body is attractive; I know this without vanity, but in this moment I can feel myself subconsciously wishing that this wasn't so. As soon as the nylon garment is below my butt, I snatch my skirt back down, covering myself as much as possible. The nylons have nearly reached the floor, when I realize that I am still wearing my pumps. I'm doing things entirely out of order, but who could blame me? I feel like I'm losing my mind. Crouching down, I undo the clasp which wraps around my ankle, holding the black leather shoes in place.

Gingerly, I extract my foot from the pump, placing it down onto the office floor. The thin gray carpet feels so cold through my thin pantyhose; a shiver runs up my spine, but I know that it isn't from the temperature. Shaky, uneasy breaths escape my lips; I'm barely holding on to my sanity at this point.

As I step from the other shoe, with my pantyhose pooled at my ankles, I pull the silky fabric from my dainty feet. Now I have my panties left. How can I do this? I try my best to disassociate myself from my present situation. I'm just getting undressed... I've done it a million times. Nothing different is going on now. I reach up to slip my thumbs back into those as well.

Snatching a glance back at my boss, I see that he hasn't moved. He isn't staring, but he's definitely watching. His eyes are cast slightly to my right. I know he's loving this, based solely on the thin, satisfied smile that is tugging at the corners of his lips. His hand is still extended, waiting for me to place the fabric inside.

As I reach back up to pull off my soft cotton panties, a terrifying thought streaks across my mind. Part of my body is getting turned on by this? Fuck no! No, No!... NO! I want to deny it, with every fiber of my being, but as I begin to slide the cloth downward, I can feel the subtle moisture within the crotch of the panties.

Somebody kill me, right now! I can't take this!

I change my thought process in that very instant. I had been moving slowly, my mind refusing to let me hurry and show any sort of positive reaction towards the entire situation. But somehow that's been making it worse. I've been putting on a sensual show! And somehow a sick part of my mind is getting aroused by it? What the fuck is wrong with me!?

I snatch my panties downward, as quickly as I can. I'm afraid the motion may have made the matter worse, and I think I just flashed my womanhood directly in Brent's face... but I have to rip this bandaid off, one way or another. As soon as the undergarment is at my feet, I step out of it, placing the cloth in my boss' hands.

My face is boiling with embarrassment and anger. At that moment I realize that Brent is a real bastard. He's been toying with me, holding my entire life in the balance, and he is loving the feeling of watching me squirm. I need to be strong. I can't let this man see how crushed this experience has made me.

As soon as the panties are in his hand, he draws them back to himself, carefully unballing them and examining them closely.

"Very cute, Ruth." Humor decorates his words, and I wish I could crawl in a hole and die.

Is he going to sniff them? He must be a pervert, but to what degree will he stoop in order to humiliate me? Does he notice the wetness in the soft fabric? Oh God, he must! I think I can see it myself... it's a tiny dark stain in the crotch! Or is that a shadow? Fuck I don't know!

With tender, almost loving care, he folds the fabric and opens his center desk drawer. He places it inside, closes the drawer, and leans forward as he steeples his hands, gazing at me with a devilish intensity that I cannot hope to withstand.

"Thank you, sweetheart. You may go now. I have your phone number. I'll be sure to send you any additional orders which I require you to follow. They'll come from an unrecognized number, of course, but you'll know it's me. It'll be the one requesting you to do lewd things at the office. I assume that I'll be the only one."

"What..." I struggle to find my tongue. "What type of things...?"

He shakes his head, and places a finger to his lips. "Shhhh... my sweet, not-so-innocent pet. You'll learn in time. For now, just know that the first time I catch you wearing panties within this office, I won't make a fuss... I won't even say a word to you... I'll just pass along the evidence I have to the proper channels. It's entirely up to you."

I can feel my fear threatening to climb again, but I fight to keep it in check. "How will you know that I am keeping my end of the deal?"

His face is as cold as a gravestone, and all of the humor seems as if it has evaporated. "That's for me to know. If you decide to try deceiving me, that is entirely your prerogative. I wouldn't suggest it, but we both know how sneaky you've been in the past. If you want..."

There is a sudden knock at the door, and my heart leaps into my throat. "Mr Smith, may I speak with you for a moment?" The voice through the door seems very impatient, but I can't place who it belongs to. My brain doesn't even seem to be functioning properly.

"Give me a few seconds, Dave!" Brent calls through the door, turning to me and holding up five fingers. My eyes are painted with shock, as he slowly drops his pinky. Four fingers. It's a countdown. An incredibly short one...

My shoes are lying on the ground haphazardly, my nylons have been cast aside like a discarded snake skin, and my panties... well they're fucking gone for good now, but beneath my skirt, I can feel the maddening chill of the room on my entire nether region. I bend down to put my shoes back onto my feet; I ignore the fact that I can feel my skirt riding up my ass, I have to get these heels back on before that door opens.

Three fingers... Oh shit! I'll never be able to fasten the clasps on these pumps in time! My heart is beating madly again. My hands are shaking so wildly now, and I feel like they're going to fall off. I try to connect the second clasp, with my mind reeling and my body racked with this absolute certainty that the second that door opens, Dave will know exactly what's happening here. He won't just know that I have no panties... he'll know everything. He'll know about my embezzlement, and he'll know that Brent is extorting me... Hell, he will probably want in on the action! None of these thoughts make logical sense, but in this moment they seem so irredeemably true!

Two fingers! FUCK! As soon as the shoes are on my feet, halfway correctly, I grab the pantyhose and throw them at Brent. He catches them easily, with such a casual, unconcerned look on his face. He is totally in control, and we both know it. I can't help but feel so small underneath his gaze. My life is entirely in his hands, and suddenly a sickening realization floods into my mind... He owns me. I am essentially his slave now, completely helpless to his every whim. How did I fuck up so badly that it left me in a situation like this?

As soon as he tucks the nylons beneath his desk, he speaks again, with absolute confidence in his tone. "Alright Dave, come in!"

The door swings open, and I'm looking directly at Dave Meyers. The recognition within his eyes is immediate and terrifying. He knows exactly what has happened here. I walked in with pantyhose, and now they're gone, along with my panties... and he knows all of that... and of course he knows the reason why, because he saw through my lies from the start! He's just been playing along, but now he's going to report me if I don't give him my panties which I don't even have now because...

"Hey there, Ms Ruth. I placed a copy of the birthday schedule on your desk. I know you'd been asking for a physical copy for a while. Sorry I didn't get it printed before now." He turns his head to Brent, and I realize that my mind is going haywire, jumping at shadows. Dave doesn't know anything. I'm just going insane. Who can blame me though? Today has been a carnival of absurdities, and nothing seems normal anymore.

Brent and Dave begin discussing some business accounts as I slip through the door and scurry to the ladies' room. Finding a stall, I sit down and cup my face in my hands. My tears begin to flow wildly, as I struggle to hold down the volume of my sobs. This is all my fault...

I try desperately to ignore the moisture that has begun forming between my legs. I tell myself over and over that no part of that encounter was arousing. Of course that's true. I can't control all of my body's functions... but I know that the slickness within my pussy is not related to any excitement that the previous scenario had on me...

I let out a muffled scream into my balled fist. Brent's sickeningly handsome face materializes in my mind and I wonder how bad things will get over the next few days.