The Shoplifter

It had been almost two months since I moved here to start university. So far I hadn't had much luck finding new friends and yet again I found myself strolling down-town to pass the time.

Once I reached the end of the shopping street, I continued into the huge upscale department store towering over the city centre. I took the escalators up to the menswear department on the fifth floor. Not that I was looking to buy clothes, but it seemed the most reasonable section to kill some time.

While browsing I realized that I was actually in need of new underwear. There was, of course, an enormous selection and I found a pair of Björn Borg trunks that I really liked. Just as I was about to head over to the register, I thought to look at the price tag. It said €30. There was no way I could justify taking that much money out of my already stretched student budget to spend on a single pair of underwear, no matter how much I liked them.

As I was about to put them back, an impulse struck me. Instead of putting them back on the rack, I cautiously looked around me and slid the garment down inside the lining of my jeans. The pack was pretty flat and sat barely visible among all the junk that was already in the pockets of my ill-fitting jeans.

This wasn't planned or barely even intentional. It just happened. My heart was beating harder and I could feel sweat drops forming on my back. I looked around again, to make sure that no-one had seen me. It seemed the coast was clear so I headed towards the store entrance, trying my best to keep my cool.

As I passed the register without being noticed, I felt relieved and there were now only a few more steps to freedom. But as soon as I passed through the store entrance, the beeping started.

Of course, any item in a store like this had an alarm tag. Especially small items with relatively large price tags like this. I could not believe I had been so incredibly stupid and not once stopped to think about what I was doing.

It was too late now, so I started running in panic. The small packet with my stolen pair of trunks started sliding down the inside of the leg of my jeans, but there was nothing I could do about it now.

Despite my best efforts, I didn't even reach the downward escalators before a security guard caught up with me. He didn't even need to grab me, he just caught up and stood in front of me. I froze, standing in front of him and intensely staring down at the floor.

"I think you better come with me," he said with a calm and surprisingly reassuring voice.

Hesitantly and slowly, I raised my head looking up at him. I was so embarrassed and wished I could just sink through the floor. What had I done? What was I thinking?

The security guard seemed to be a young handsome man, barely older than me. His face had a very friendly expression, considering the situation. Somehow this made the situation even more embarrassing, and I could feel my face blushing at the brink of burning.

"If you would please come with me this way," he gestured.

I followed him along a long narrow corridor. He used his key card to unlock a door marked Store Management and led me into an office area. We continued through the small office landscape. It was busy, but I kept my eyes fixed at the floor hoping no one was staring. The guard knocked on the door marked "Manager" and a voice from the other side told us to come in.

"I think we caught ourselves a thief, sir," said the guard as we entered the room.

I looked up and saw the manager sitting behind his large desk in the tastefully decorated office. He was wearing a three-piece suite and a tie and looked overdressed, even for managing an upscale place like this.

"Is that so?" replied the manager. "So, young man, what is it that you tried to steal from us?"

"I...," I hesitated, fixing my eyes on the floor.

"Yes?" asked the manager.

"Well, uhm, a pair of ehm... underwear, sir," I stuttered.

"I see," replied the manager in a condescending tone. "And would you please be so kind as to present this garment to us?"

"Well, you see...," I tried. "The thing is, I put it down my jeans and as I tried to run, they sort of... well, they are sort of stuck down my pant leg."

I looked up at the manager again and pointed to the little bulge that was now just above my left knee.

"Right, then if you would be so kind as to remove your jeans," said the manager matter of factly.

"But I --," I hesitated.

"I'm afraid I must insist," he cut me off.

Gulping, I slowly started unbuttoning my jeans. The manager kept his composed appearance as I eased my jeans down, but I swear I could see the guard smirking in the corner of my eye.

Underneath, I was wearing an old washed out pair of off-brand tighty-whities. My lack of proper underwear had of course been what got me in this hot mess from the beginning. But wearing unflattering underwear under your jeans was one thing, having them exposed in front of two perfect strangers was quite a different story.

Once my jeans reached my ankles, I bent down and picked up the packet and placed it on the desk.

"I see," said the manager as he inspected the packet as well as my old exposed underwear. "Well, I can see that the need was indeed pressing."

I reached down to pull my jeans back up.

"Not so fast, young man," he interrupted. "We need to know if these are indeed a good fit."

What was he saying? I let go of my jeans and stood back up, looking at him with an expression of absolute fear. In desperation, I turned to the guard for help, but I could tell from his expression that he had no intention of objecting.

The manager picked up the packet containing the new trunks and ordered me to step out of my jeans and take off my tighty-whities. In an attempt to stall for time, I folded my jeans neatly and put them up on the large desk. Finally, I had no choice but to pull my briefs off and I quickly cupped my genitals with both hands.

As I stood there, trying to shield myself as best I could, he took the trunks out of their packet.

"You see this," he said, holding up the piece of the trunks where the alarm tag was attached. "We put this here to prevent this exact situation from occurring. Now if you'll excuse me for a minute, while I go to have this removed."

He went up from his desk and walked out into the adjacent office landscape, leaving the door ajar. I was left standing there half-naked, under the watchful eye of the security guard and worried that someone would peek in through the half-opened door.

After what felt like an eternity, the manager returned with the ill-fated underwear.

"Now then," he said, handing them to me. "Let's see them on."

As I reached out and took them from him, I managed to utter a very silent "Thanks."

I did my best to keep shielding myself as I pulled the trunks on, but I still managed to expose myself quite a bit. The trunks did, of course, fit perfectly and under other circumstances, I would have been quite pleased with them.

"There we go! I'd say that's a really nice fit," said the manager and turned to the security guard "Don't you think they look good on him?"

"It is definitely an improvement," said the guard, who had stood quiet up until now. "But I do actually think we have something that would fit him even better."

"Is that so?" replied the manager. "Well, I trust you completely in these matters. Why don't the two of you head back out the store and find the perfect piece for him?"

"Yes, sir" answered the guard.

"Well then," continued the manager and turned back to me. "Why don't you follow my colleague here, and he'll help you pick out a more suitable garment for you."

I didn't see any way out of this, so I reached to pick up my jeans. Instantly, the manager reached out to stop me.

"That won't be necessary," he said. "You believe you look perfectly alright in those fine trunks that, may I remind you, you were very eager to get your hands on."

As I followed the guard back out through the busy office landscape I was even more embarrassed and could feel my face burning red. I kept my eyes on the floor and tried to keep a steady pace.

Contrary to what I had expected, the guard did not take me back to the underwear department where I had found the trunks that I was now wearing. Instead, he took me to the elevator and we headed down to the third floor. It dawned on me that he was probably not going to pick me up another pair of trunks. Maybe he was planning on finding me a new pair of jeans. Though I could truly need new pants, I figured that the most likely scenario would be for him to pick out a pair of €200 jeans and make me pay for them as a punishment. There was, of course, very likely they carried several even more expensive items of clothing as well.

In my head, I had already started to try to make up plans for how I would make it through the rest of the month with such a substantial blow to my already limited funds. This all came to nought though, as soon as the elevator doors opened.

Turns out, the third floor is not men's jeans. It's lingerie. Using this new information, my mind could rather quickly outline the new most likely scenario. And though probably more economically sound, far much more humiliating.

At this point, I was hoping for the elevator to just plummet down the shaft with me inside. The guard had already stepped out, and as he saw me hesitating he politely ordered me to follow him.

I stepped out of the elevator, still wearing nothing but my hoodie and a pair of brand new brand name trunks. The guard took me down the isles of the lingerie department. At first, I was afraid that he would take me browsing through the entire department, but judging by his stride, he knew where he was heading.

Soon enough, we stood by a rack filled with lace thongs and brassier. He took down a bright pink thong and handed it to me.

"This I think would look great on you," he smiled. "Your trunks are size M, but for these, I think you should go for L."

I took the hanger with the thong, trying my best to hide it in my hands, but the bright pink lace was not easily hidden. Hesitantly, I looked up at him, not really sure what I was supposed to do now.

"Please follow me to the checkout desk," he told me.

So this was to be my punishment: Having to pay for a pair of fancy pink panties, all this while being half-naked.

"At least this shouldn't be as expensive as I had initially feared," I thought, trying to comfort myself. "How much could this tiny piece of fabric cost anyway?

Discreetly, I glanced at the price tag. It read €250.

"Holy shit!" I thought, my heart racing as I realized that I would be both ruined and humiliated.

As we neared the checkout desk and I saw the line of women waiting to pay for their purchases, the guard reached out his hand.

"Let me get that for you," he said, taking the thong from me.

He went behind the desk, excused himself to the cashier and removed the alarm and price tags.

"That's how you do it," he said to me as he returned and handed me the thong. "Now let's get back upstairs."

He took me back to the manager's office and closed the door behind us.

"That's an excellent choice," said the manager as he saw the panties I was holding. "Now let's see them on."

I removed the trunks and put them on the desk, next to my tighties, and picked up the thong instead. It took some figuring out before I was sure which leg would go where, but soon I pulled the thong up and felt the thin strip of fabric slide in between my buttocks. Despite my best effort, the thong refused to conceal both of my balls at the same time and how much I tried, one of them kept hanging out.

"Don't you agree that this is a better fit?" the guard asked the manager.

"It is indeed," replied the manager.

"Now then," the manager addressed me this time. "All that is left is the matter of your punishment."

In my mind, the exposure and humiliation had been more than enough punishment. Now I realized that maybe that was too naive of me.

"P... punishment?" I stuttered.

"Yes, punishment," the manager answered. "In general, I'm reluctant to involve the police in these matters. That is, as long as it concerns a first offence and such mediocre amounts."

At this, I was somewhat relieved, though I suspected there was more to come.

"Don't you agree with me," he asked me. "Don't you think we could sort this out between us?"

I had no idea what he had in mind, but I had no wish to spend the rest of the day at the police station either, so I hesitantly agreed with him.

"I'm happy that you agree," he smiled at me. "Well then, if you would be so kind as to place your hand on the edge of my desk and bend yourself forward please."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I think I made myself quite clear," he said. "Place your hands here and bend yourself over."

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"Perhaps it would just be easier to just leave this matter to the police instead?" he asked with a stern voice.

"No!" I cried out. "No, I'm sorry. I'll do as you say."

So I placed my hands just as he had shown me and bent forward.

"Now, do you remember the price of those fine trunks that you stole?" he inquired as he stood up from his desk and walked up behind me.

"I think... €30," I answered.

"Right, 30 it is," he replied. "I will have to ask you to count for me."

"Count what?" I asked worryingly.

He did not answer but instead raised his hand and stroke down over my left buttock.

"Ouch! What are you doing?" I screamed as I stood up and turned around.

"Young man," he stared at me. "I think you fully understand what is going on here and what is going to happen."

I said nothing, but in my mind, I had of course already figured out exactly his plan for getting back at me.

"Now," he continued. "I must ask you to resume your position and also I believe I asked you to count for me."

I turned back around and bent over and braced myself for the next stroke.

"Two," I cried out as his hand hit my buttocks again.

"Young man," he said. "Two has never been the first number, now has it?"

"I'm sorry," I replied. "I meant 'one'."

"That does sound more reasonable," he smirked, just as he got ready for the next blow.

Up until 'ten', the punishment didn't seem so bad. But then, my butt cheeks really started to burn.

"Eleven," I groaned as I bit my teeth. "Twelve, Thirteen..."

By twenty, my legs started shivering. At twenty-six I could feel tears forming in my eyes.

"Thirty!" I finally cried out.

By this time, my whole body was shivering. My buttocks were burning and my face was wet from sweat and tears. My legs wanted to sit down, but I knew my ass wouldn't agree.

The manager now went back to sit behind his desk.

"Now, that's a good boy," he said to me. "I believe you've learned your lesson, haven't you."

"Yes, sir," I replied in a trembling voice.

"Good," he continued. "Then I believe we are set. You can, of course, keep both the fine garment you're wearing as well as the trunks."

"Thank... thank you, sir," I managed to get out.

With a trembling hand, I reached for my jeans for the second time.

"Now as for you," he said to the security guard who had been observing the whole affair.

At the same time, he gave me a look that made me understand that this was not the time for me to get dressed.

"Yes, sir?" replied the guard.

"How much do I pay you?" asked the manager.

"It's about €13 an hour," replied the guard. "Not including social fees, and all that of course."

"Right," said the manager. "And how long has this whole affair kept you. I'd say about an hour, an hour and a half?"

"I think that's about right," said the guard in an oddly satisfying tone of voice.

"Well then," said the manager. "Let's make it an even twenty."

As I realized what was about to happen, I got back in position. The pain in my buttcheeks was almost unbearable, and I feared what would happen next. The guard got up behind me and I clinched every muscle in my body.

"One," I cried out as his hand struck my buttocks. "Two, Three, please no... f-four"

His hand was just as firm as the manager. I panted and clinched as I waited for the next stoke.

"I'll leave you to it," said the manager. "I'll be back in 30 minutes and I expect him to be gone by then."

"Yes, sir*, replied the guard, before resuming to hand out his part of the punishment.

"Five, six, please, I can't--, seven," I cried out as the manager walked out the door and closed the door behind him.

After an eternity of pain, I finally reached twenty. My whole body was trembling. The pain had made me forget about the humiliation of being exposed to these two strangers in nothing but my bright pink, and very expensive, thong. But as I caressed my butt, in an attempt to soothe the pain, I was reminded of what I was wearing.

"That pink thong really goes well with your bright red cheeks," smirked the guard. "Let me tell you, this job is not without its benefits.

I stood up and was just about to reach for my jeans when the guard stopped me.

"Not so fast," he said. "As I said, this job is not without its benefits and some of those benefits are dependent on you staying in that position for just a little longer. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

I hesitated for a moment. Then I could hear him slowly unbuckling his belt. I turned around to look, but again he intervened.

"No no," he said. "You just keep facing forward and put your hands back up on the desk."

I did as he said and put my hands back up on the desk.

"That's it," he said. "Now push that lovely red ass out for me."

He removed something from his utility belt, then there was a soft swosh and a thump as he let his pants and the heavy belt fall to the floor. He moved up closer to my exposed ass and with his strong hands he started gently caressing my sore buttocks. His soft touch felt nice and the pain subsided slightly, if only for the moment.

"Man, it feels so warm," he said, seemingly very pleased with himself.

He came closer and now I could feel the tip of his cock touching me. I couldn't tell how big it was, but I could feel that it was rock hard. He let it slide up and down my crack.

"Don't worry," he said calmly. "I promise I'll be gentle."

Soon after I heard him open the small metal container he'd removed from his belt, I felt him smear a glob of something cold and moist onto my hole. I could hear him grab another dollop of goo and rub it onto his cock.

His cock head rubbed against my hole, smearing the vaseline even further. Then he slowly started pushing all of it inside me.

As promised, he was gentle. Not to say it didn't hurt a little at times, but he did slowly work his cock deeper and deeper inside me. It felt huge. Not to say that it was, but it felt like a beer can being eased up my ass, a few millimetres at a time.

After a while, he started moving in and out, applying more lube now and then. He wasn't all the way inside me yet, but this made it easier to take it a little more with every thrust.

Maybe it was because it distracted me from my sore buttocks, but his cock started to feel really nice inside me. The pain wasn't as bad any more and he did a great job drilling further inside me.

Soon I could feel his hips push up against me and I realised that I had taken everything. I let out a soft groan of both relief and pleasure.

His hands now on my hips, he took a firm grip and pushed his body hard against mine. He slowly pulled his cock out, just a bit, before pushing hard inside me again.

For every thrust, he pulled just a little bit further out, before ramming it back in. He also upped the pace ever so slightly.

Before I knew it, he was pounding my ass like a jack-hammer, slamming his thighs against my sore buttocks with every thrust.