The Theft of Our Lives 01

The Theft of Our Lives 01

By Tug Coxwell

Disclaimer: This is a multi-chapter story that reads more as a series of vignettes connected by an underlying thread for continuity. It's my attempt at the well-traveled premise of a boss exploiting a family. While not present in every chapter, the story contains various sex acts between adults, including but not limited to adultery, incest, cuckolding, interracial, lesbian, and non-consensual sex in the form of blackmail and coercion. The story and all characters are fictional. Any resemblance to businesses or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. In real life, all non-consensual sex is immoral, illegal and not condoned by the author. All characters are 18-years-old or older. All rights reserved.

CAUGHT

It was theft, pure and simple.

Finally, I carried out the plan -- frustrated, self-assured, and filled with a sense of false bravado and righteous indignation for perceived slights and past injustices, I honestly believed my retribution against Allenby Consolidation was the only way to secure the future of my family.

I had no way of knowing it would turn into the theft of our lives.

In my position at the company, I had unique access to the finances, and quite simply started moving money into a company account I created over which I had sole control. It was embezzlement, to be certain, but it was very sophisticated the way I moved the money, or so I thought.

I was highly confident no one would find out until the plan was concluded and my family was long gone and safe.

Very carefully over a six-month period I amassed a fortune in varying increments. I kept everything in the legal possession of the company account until I was ready. My goal was a cool $5 million. I was now well over $4.75 million and nearly ready to make my move.

Admittedly, I was operating at an aggressive pace over a short period of time, but I wanted to expedite the process and get out quickly. I was smart enough to know the longer you're at a nefarious criminal activity, the more likely it is you'll get caught.

With the tremendous amount of revenue the company generated, I believed even such large numbers would go unnoticed in the short term, at least until the mandatory independent company audit three months away, and I didn't plan on being around for that.

To test my methodology, I made one small transaction from the company account into a secret personal account my wife Emma opened on our behalf. I'd kept her in the dark for her own protection, but as the good wife she faithfully did my bidding without knowing the account's true purpose.

Ultimately, she learned of the plan when I told her the details and the reason for the new bank account the day after my company's annual family picnic. It was getting near the date for me to pull the money and disappear, so I had to let her in on the scheme.

Truthfully, I subconsciously wanted to give my wife a chance to talk me out of it before I took the irreparable step of transferring the funds to our personal account.

My timing was perfect for gaining Emma's assent, as unsurprisingly she didn't object after the boorish manner of my boss Henry 'Hank' Allenby, president and majority owner of Allenby Consolidation, aggressively ogling and sexually harassing her at the picnic.

"Do you know he actually hit on me?" she told me in disgust. "That filthy pig was undressing me with his eyes all day. He actually asked if my breasts are real."

"Shit, seriously?" I replied with feigned surprise, knowing Hank's reputation as a cretin and degenerate while hoping to sound sympathetic.

"The jerk said I should visit him at a little bungalow he keeps downtown to find out for himself," my disbelieving wife scoffed with genuine disgust. "He flat out propositioned me, Ray. I mean, like that's gonna happen!"

Emma knew of my troubles at work.

As a couple, we talked openly about everything in our 20-plus year marriage. It was one of the many things I loved about my beautiful, compassionate wife. She knew I was passed over for promotions in favor of sycophants using my work and denied promised bonuses I'd earned on the strength of mere technicalities.

Emma isn't perfect, possessing the same character flaws and foibles as any other human, but they're mostly petty issues and nothing casting her in a poor light in other people's opinion.

Her social standing is very important to her and to the outside world she's a pillar of the community -- volunteering for civic groups, active in school parent groups, and frequently cheering on our two grown children at their various athletic competitions.

Conservative and a conscientious rule follower by nature, it startled me a little how quickly Emma adopted my illicit design to embezzle, apparently viewing the plan as well-deserved restitution for us and punishment for everything Hank put me through in the past few years, now bolstered by his offensive behavior towards her at the picnic.

"He is a bastard," I agreed, shaking my head and smiling at Emma with assurance the scheme I'd concocted was foolproof and would teach the sonofabitch a lesson.

Secretly though, I understood Hank's attraction to my 39-year-old wife as a beautiful and appealing woman.

Emma is tall at 5'10", statuesque, and delightfully full-bodied, but remains fit and nicely toned over the years, even after the birth of our two children -- 19-year-old Kerri, and her 18-year-old brother, Kellen.

My curvaceous wife wears her silky chestnut brown shoulder-length hair draped loosely on her broad shoulders, or often in a girlish ponytail held by a pretty ribbon giving her a young, vibrant appearance. She excelled in athletics in college, and still works out when time permits, with her impressive frame possessing well-toned arms, broad child-bearing hips, and gloriously long, muscular legs reaching all the way to the ground.

As Hank's interest implied, Emma also has big breasts -- really big and all natural. That's the only way to describe them.

When I met her in college she was a good-sized D-cup, and they've only gotten bigger with age and childbirth. Full and round, they maintain a nice shape, while holding firm without the excessive droopy sag common to a woman of her age and maternity.

Topping all this perfection is a lovely, smiling face and pleasant demeanor with an authentic beauty featuring a finely chiseled nose and cheek bones above a pointed but not overly prominent chin. She wears little make-up, just some lipstick and a touch of color on her eyelids, while her skin is a clear alabaster befitting her Swiss-German ethnic heritage.

Clinching the deal are Emma's piercing emerald-green eyes boring right through you when sparked with anger, or playful with inquisitiveness when mischievous, making her a true beauty.

I understood other men wanting my desirable wife, but to the best of my knowledge she'd never strayed, remaining devoted and true to me throughout the years, and I felt fortunate she was mine.

**********************************

It was a pleasant late March morning when my boss called me into his office.

Hank's mood appeared good, with his usual business-like tone greeting me and then speaking briefly about the first quarter revenue performance. I was surprised Nicole Westridge, Allenby's CFO, wasn't present for a conversation involving sales, but I soon found out why when his attention turned to other matters.

"Ray, I have something I want to speak to you about," he informed me seriously, but politely. "To be right up front, it involves Emma too."

"Emma?" I inquired with puzzled surprise.

"Yes. I think you'd best call and have her come down to the office this afternoon after lunch," he insisted. "I really do think you'll both want to hear what I have to say."

"Alright, I'll call," I agreed, then asserted with a light tone so as not to offend, "but unless you plan on apologizing to her for the way you treated her at last week's company picnic, I'm not sure there's much for her to talk about."

"She was pretty offended," I added.

"Apologize? Ray, whatever do you mean?" Hank asked, appearing hurt and taken aback. "Emma and I had a simple conversation. It was harmless, playful banter and don't kid yourself, she liked the attention. Why apologize?"

"Yes, Hank, but what you so blithely bantered about was Emma's chest," I countered, stupidly feeling my oats with the prospect of our soon to be gained independence. "I mean, come on, you basically hit on my wife. She was humiliated and embarrassed, not to mention angry."

"Well, Ray, when you want something, you shouldn't be bashful about saying it. I was just trying to strike a deal," he calmly replied, not mincing words or showing any concern about offending me as her husband.

"Deal?" I questioned, perturbed but holding my tongue from more pointed barbs.

"Look, Ray, every party to a deal should put forward their best assets to get what they want, and without a doubt, I'd say Emma's chest is her best asset," he opined straightforwardly.

'What an uncouth lout,' I thought, but decided it was best to leave the insult alone and instead call my wife.

Needless to say, Emma wasn't thrilled with the suggestion to meet Hank at his office. She hadn't seen him since the picnic but agreed for my sake, perhaps feeling the same sense of security my plan had given me.

**********************************

It was 1:00 p.m. when Emma and I entered Hank's office.

Emma was dressed in her usual weekday attire -- tan slacks, sky blue cotton blouse and sensible black pumps with her lustrous chestnut brown hair pulled into her signature ponytail with a red ribbon. Her brilliant green eyes peered through black-rimmed glasses, just as she preferred when trying to look detached and professional.

I probably should have known something was up when I saw that Rick Littleton, the SVP Accounting and my direct supervisor was present. I tried not to think more of it, foolishly hoping whatever Hank planned on addressing involved my future with the company and recompense for past wrongs.

I naïvely assumed maybe that's why he wanted Emma there too, so she could hear the good news.

"Emma, it's so nice to see you. You look spectacular, as always," Hank said graciously, as if the events at the picnic never happened while at the same time extending his hand.

Always accommodating in social situations and unable to offend through years of conditioning growing up in a genteel Southern family, my unhappy wife accepted the handshake with a distinctly reserved politeness.

"You remember Rick, right?" Hank asked, knowing she'd met him at past company events.

"Hello, Emma, it's a pleasure to see you again," Rick offered with a smarmy grin.

"Hello, Rick," Emma returned with a nod of acknowledgement.

"Okay, go ahead and have a seat everybody. I'll get right to the point," my employer stated matter-of-factly.

"Rick has brought very disconcerting information to my attention dramatically impacting the company, and Ray, I believe you're responsible!" Hank forcefully impugned. "You've stolen roughly $4,750,000 of the company's money, isn't that right?"

"What! What are you saying, Hank?" I yelped, feigning shock and surprise, but choking audibly while nearly falling out of my chair.

Hank and Rick stayed silent to my rant.

"What are you talking about? How can you make such a wild accusation?" I retorted disbelievingly, doing my best to act the falsely accused innocent.

Hank wasn't buying.

"Cut the act, Ray. You know what you've been doing, and I do too!" he raised his voice in a legitimate sign of anger. "Since her signature is on your new bank account, I'm more than certain your pretty wife knows as well."

I looked at Emma sitting white as a sheet and trembling uncontrollably, and then at Hank and Rick again.

Hank was clearly pissed off, while Rick just smiled.

"Hank, wait, there must be some mistake," I implored.

"There sure as hell is Ray, and you and your pretty wife made it!" he bellowed, removing all civility in addressing Emma and me harshly.

"Rick has everything detailed and documented. The proof is clear, and don't think the clever idea of keeping the money in a company account, that you control I might add, is going to save your sorry ass," he continued angrily. "That one transaction into your own account is the only proof we need of your intent to steal every penny."

I was devastated, slumping in my chair while Emma sat speechless and trembling -- a look of pure horror on her face with mouth quivering and tears in the corners of her eyes.

"I protect this company with the same devotion you protect your family, Ray," my boss fumed vehemently. "This company is my baby. My heritage, my legacy, and damn it, my son's future. I don't take kindly to people fucking with it, because when you do, you fuck with my family. That's exactly what you and Emma tried to do!"

Emma cringed in her chair palpably as I felt nausea creeping into my gut with thoughts of jail, scandal, and the damage to my family's reputation racing through my mind.

'What was I thinking?' I bemoaned inside as he berated me, my arrogance, and my ignorance.

"When people do that, I take action and I get justice, at least, my version of justice," he ranted, unsettling both me and my shaken wife.

Tension filled the room, but Hank didn't let up.

"The money has been returned to the general account and you've been shut out of all the company accounts," he advised as he pushed onward. "I see prison in your future, Ray. In your future too, Emma."

"Nooooo!" Emma sobbed, bursting into tears.

'How could this be happening?' I wondered woefully. 'I was so careful. How could they know?'

"Without parents, your family will fall apart," Hank suggested ominously, driving home the unfortunate truth.

"Your kids may be adults, but they're totally reliant on you," he stated truthfully. "You know how dependent today's generation are on their parents. They'll be out on the streets in no time. No mom, no dad, no college, and no future."

"Hank, please! Okay, I admit it. I'll go to prison if necessary, but Emma didn't know. She didn't do anything wrong," I pleaded desperately, regretting the whole plan while mustering enough wherewithal to speak.

"You're smarter than that, Ray," Hank scoffed derisively. "It doesn't matter whether she knew or not, although I'll bet she did. Her signature on that account is damning and you know it. Besides, I'll make her look complicit regardless of what she knew or didn't know."

Hank paused letting that awful reality sink in, then continued reinforcing his point.

"I have good lawyers, Ray, the best," he explained with no small amount of pleasure, purposefully painting a dire picture of our future. "The evidence they'll feed the D.A., a buddy of mine I might add, will take you both down and put you in the hole for the next 10 years."

I buried my face in my hands, while Emma was beside herself with grief.

"I'll make sure those kids don't see you or even each other for a long time to come," he added with apparent glee. "I'll ruin your family just as you tried to ruin mine!"

"HANK, NOOO! PLEASE DON'T! DON'T BREAK UP OUR FAMILY!!" my distraught wife cried aloud, with the thought of prison scaring her to death, but worse than anything was losing our kids and family.

"Isn't there something we can do?" Emma asked under her breath in defeat.

My boss shot a quick look to Rick but said nothing, letting a heavy pall hang in the air. We didn't know it at the time, but Hank's anger was a ruse. Apparently, he knew about my embezzlement scheme since I made the withdrawal two months earlier, letting me dig an inescapable hole while building up his case against me and developing his own plan.

Hank knew exactly what he was doing, and Emma's words were the signal he needed to spring his trap.

Certainly, there was no doubt the company president was serious about getting retribution for my sin, but he had his own sense of justice, and didn't see much benefit to him or the company with Emma and me in prison, especially since he had retrieved his money.

Hank paused for a moment, and then a bit longer, allowing us to stew in our despair at our predicament and the impending destruction of our lives, happily letting the unimaginable realization sink into the core.

"It's really a shame, Ray. You are a good employee, at least before you fucked up. I'd prefer to keep you with Allenby," Hank's tone softened, becoming almost conciliatory. "You know, Emma has so much to offer as well."

I lifted my head from my hands.

"You can leave now, Rick," my conniving boss turned to the man who had detected my thievery and brought us down. "Your service is duly-noted and appreciated. A reward is well-deserved, and you'll be certain to reap a memorable benefit in the near future."

Rick nodded and smiled a knowing grin, casting a leering eye at Emma while walking out the door.

I sat sullen in a world of misery of my own making. Hank's words about me had no real impact, but when he mentioned Emma a chill ran down my spine. The devious bastard got Emma's attention too and she tried vainly to stifle her tears looking at him with a mix of fear, suspicion, and doubt.

"Maybe we can find another way for you to pay for your misdeeds," he suggested, moving forward with a renewed scorn in his voice. "One teaching you both a lesson that when you fuck with me, my company, or my family, I fuck back, and I fuck back hard."

I had no idea how prescient his comment was to become, and I thought maybe it was just for effect, but it sounded real enough to me. Emma and I just sat silently listening to Hank, hoping against hope for a way out, but knowing deep down the price would be steep.

Emma bawled openly now, and I shuddered so hard I was glad I was sitting, or my knees might buckle from under me.

"Maybe we can make a deal. One keeping you out of prison and your family intact," my boss suggested magnanimously.

My ears pricked up at the words, curious and concerned at what he had in mind, especially since I knew my employer pretty damn well after a dozen years, especially Hank's reputation as a lecherous womanizer and amoral cad.

"I sure wish you had accepted my offer at the picnic, Emma," he said, turning to my wife with clear intent. "Of course, that offer no longer stands, but I have a new offer. An offer on new terms. My terms."

A disconcerted look crossed Emma's brow knowing perfectly well the lewd offer at the picnic he referred to, suspecting whatever new terms he proposed would be even less palatable and more indecent.

"This time, however, there won't be any negotiating," Hank continued confidently. "Since I hold all the cards for the future of your family, it will be 'take it or leave it.'"

Emma's heart sank and tears flowed down her cheeks again while I bowed my head in revulsion and shame. We both knew where he was going and that my bold act to gain our independence was having the completely opposite result.

"Here's the deal," he began firmly, setting out his proposal with a stark, business-like efficiency honed over years of sharp bargaining. "The statute of limitations on embezzling in this state is three years. After that, it's too late to prosecute you and Emma. So, for the next three years the Tyler's are beholden to me. That means you do as I say -- everything I say. Then, I cut you loose and you're free to go."

I sat on my hands with nothing to say. Hank had clearly thought this through, and I didn't expect to find any loopholes to wiggle through and save us from our dire plight. In addition to prison, the scandal and reprobation surrounding our family would follow our kids for the rest of their lives.