The Thief's Punishment

Dahlia had met him online of all places. Mark was 15 years her senior, handsome, fit, and from what she could see from his photos, loaded. She'd been chatting with him for weeks, and he seemed smart and kind, but that wasn't going to keep her from robbing him blind. It was never hard to reel her victims with her voluptuous body and whip smart attitude, and he was looking like the perfect opportunity. She was a broke college girl, on scholarship at an uppity religious college, her parents were slaves to a strict budget and even stricter religion, and her desire for luxury name brand items wasn't going fulfill itself.

It took her a couple of weeks to convince him that she was just a harmless little college girl, looking for the experienced older man to rock her world. Finally, on a chilly Friday night in December, they met up at a late-night breakfast restaurant, and the chemistry was instantaneous. After a lot of flirting, a lot of alcohol and some heavy petting, she'd woken up warm and comfortable in his king-sized guest bed, ready to put her plan into motion. She felt guilty as she stretched her naked body sinuously against his silk sheets, this was almost too easy, and she hadn't even given him the sex he clearly wanted. Of course, due to her religious upbringing, she'd never given anyone that.

Mark had left early for work that morning, telling her to stay as long as she wanted, that he wouldn't be back until later, but if she wanted to stick around "for dinner", then he certainly wouldn't mind. She climbed out of the warm bed, showered, and dressed herself and began her planning. She had time, so she took it, making note of items that would be easy to move and would fetch the most money in resale value. She backed her truck up into the driveway to make it easier to load, opened her totes in the back for all the smaller things, and began her task.

Dahlia was a beautiful woman, small, but extremely strong for her size. She had her long dark hair sleeked back in a ponytail that reached almost to the middle of her back, high cheekbones, soft full lips and a perfect hourglass figure.

She was sweaty, tired and sitting in the cool air conditioning of his living room, taking a break when she heard Mark pull into the drive. Instantly panicked, Dahlia rocketed up off the couch, heart pounding, and looked around frantically for a way out. Mark was already coming through the front door, face livid, and she was caught, deer in the headlights stuck, watching him stalk toward her. As he reached to grab her, she bolted towards the back door. He swept her legs out from under her, quickly covering her petite form with his heavy body, pinning her to the floor.

"You thieving bitch" he growled in her ear, grabbing and wrapping her arms up behind her back, clenching her slim wrists in one of his huge hands. Fisting his other hand in her long dark hair, he pulled her to her knees and quickly to her feet. Desperate and screeching, she fought him, struggling against his hands holding her captive, feet kicking in an attempt to catch him in the groin or any place that would cause him to release his grip. Infuriated, he let go of her hair, hauled his hand back, and punched her square in the face. She crumpled, out cold, to the floor. He stared, shocked at what he had done for a few moments, before scooping her up in his arms and cursing, hauled her upstairs, tied her tightly to his bed frame, and went to work on unloading and replacing all his valuables back in his home.

She woke groggy and disoriented, her face throbbing in time to her heartbeat where he'd slugged her. She quickly realized she was tightly bound to the bed and gagged with her own dirty socks that she'd been wearing as she was loading the truck. She gagged at the smell and taste of the dirty wet cotton and pulled on her restraints, testing the strength of the ties. They didn't give an inch. Again, her heart was racing as she started to understand the predicament she was in. And then she spotted him. Watching her from a corner with a cold, unfriendly look, was her captor. She shivered and realized that while she was out that he had also stripped her naked, He smirked, stood, and began a slow prowl around the bed.

"So, what do you have to say for yourself you thieving little bitch? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the cops and turn your pretty little ass over to them right now."

Dahlia pulled against her restraints again, her muffled pleading barely discernible through the socks that filled her mouth.

Mark chuckled softly. "Guess not much with the way I've trussed you up there, huh?" He walked over to her, his eyes flashing with some emotion that Dahlia didn't recognize. "Promise not to scream, and I'll remove the gag." She nodded quickly, and he ripped the duct tape off of her mouth, the sodden socks coming with it.

She recoiled. The pain of the tape ripping from her lips burned her mouth and brought tears to her eyes. "Please, please don't call the cops, Mark" she begged earnestly. "If you call the cops, they'll arrest me, and I'll lose my scholarship at the college! My parents will disown me!"

"And just how is that my problem?" he said. "You were stealing from me, and for what? Another pretty dress? No, I don't think you being arrested or disowned is my problem at all."

"I'll do anything!" she whimpered, the tears finally spilling onto her pale cheeks.

"Oh, I don't think you really mean that. Anything is a lot to promise when you don't know someone very well," he said, sitting on the side of the bed. He trailed his fingers across the bare skin of her thigh and watched her carefully.

"I mean it Mark. Please. You can do anything to me. Just don't call the cops. I'll make it up to you, I promise," she pleaded. Dahlia was sure she knew just what he wanted of her. He wanted sex, maybe even anal. It'd be a small price to pay to not have to own up to her misdeeds. One or two nights serving him sexually, even though it was not how she'd envisioned she'd lose her virginity, was better than losing her whole future.

Mark watched her face, could practically see the thoughts that were running through her mind. She thought this was going to be easy. A few nights of sex in exchange for her intentions to rob him blind. He almost pitied her naivete. What she thought she was offering him paled in comparison to the things he wanted to do to that sexy body and sharp mind of hers. By the time he was through with her, he was fairly sure she'd be damaged for the rest of her life, which was fine by him, as he didn't think he'd feel like letting her go anytime soon.

"Fine, we'll try it. But I don't want to hear any complaining. You do what I tell you when I tell you to do it," he commanded sternly.

"Okay, no complaining, I promise." she smiled up at him shyly "Thank you!"

"Thank you, Sir" he said.

"Yes, thank you, Sir." Dahlia said softly, confusion flitting across her face. Sir? What was this, the military?

Mark rose from the side of the bed. "First things first, Dahlia. I'm going to video tape your confession to what you did, and what you were planning to do as well. The video cameras that I've installed around the house already have you loading your truck with my things, but I want to hear the words straight from the horse's mouth, as they say." Mark walked to the closet and began pulling his video equipment out and setting it up in front of the bed.

"Naked?" she said, incredulously.

"However the fuck I want you to do it, Dahlia," he stated, almost matter of factly.

"Oh-h okay," she whispered, for once feeling unsure of herself.

He fiddled with the equipment a little more, making sure the frame captured every inch of her. "Okay, when I give you the signal, I want you to begin. Tell the camera everything."

Mark pressed a button and gestured at her to begin. Dahlia laid out the whole story, from how she had reeled him in online to what she had planned to do if she'd gotten out of there without him catching her. She finished, and he returned to the camera, and made as if he was shutting it off.

"Good. Now, if you think I won't drop that little video on the internet if you disobey me, you're wrong."

Dahlia gasped. "Oh please, don't do that."

"Obey me, and I'll consider it." Mark quipped. Listening to her detail her entire plan had enraged him all over again. "Okay, a few ground rules to start. One, I will no longer call you by name. There is no Dahlia, there is only slut, or bitch, or whatever I decide to call you at any given time. Two, clothes don't exist for you anymore unless I tell you otherwise; and Three, what I say goes. If I tell you to get on the floor and lick my boots, you will do it, no complaining, no questions asked, otherwise, you know what happens."

Dahlia sat, shackled and shocked, and stared at Mark like he had three heads. She was starting to realize that she had gotten in way over her head. Lick his boots? No clothes? God, what was this crazy man into? She'd barely let a man touch her, much less play these weird sex games with her.

"Do you understand, slut?" Mark asked.

She managed a feeble "Yes" and the word had barely left her lips before he was stalking toward her vulnerable form again, but this time, shedding clothes as he went. Each piece he shed revealed the magnificent form that she'd felt last night while she was teasing the hell out of him. Despite the malice and anger she saw on his face, she couldn't help but be aroused at the stunning man that stood before her now. He was tall, with a sleek swimmer's body, muscled, but not ridiculously so. He was also huge. Dahlia had seen plenty of porn before, but she was pretty damn sure he'd give any of those men a run for their money. His blue eyes flashed with an intensity that told Dahlia that he was about to make good use of her.

Mark sat on the side of the bed again, and stroked a hand up to Dahlia's bare breast and circled her nipple with a fingertip "Now, we're going to rectify the situation you left me in last night."

Here was what she was expecting out of all of this, nonetheless, her breath hitched in her throat a little as he released her from her bonds.

He took her mouth first, a fierce, hungry kiss that had her moaning in pleasure. Then, he fisted his hand in her hair and yanked her mouth from his, guiding her face forcefully down to meet his cock. She looked up at him shyly, and tentatively began sucking him. He allowed the first few tentative motions but grew bored and began forcing her further and further down his cock.

Dahlia was breathless, gagging, spit sliding down her face, trying desperately to keep with the pace he was setting, and trying to ignore the pain in her face and jaw. No one had ever used her like this, so forcefully and like she was nothing but a hole to stick their cock in.

"God, you're horrible at this" Mark sniped, and pushed her away from him. "Get on your back, slut, we'll see if any of your other holes are useful."

Dahlia sat looking at him for a minute, wondering if she should tell him that she was still a virgin, if it would garner any gentleness from him or not. She didn't think so, but it was worth trying.

"Please...Sir, please be gentle with me. I've never done this before," she whimpered.

"Done what, slut? Had sex?"

She nodded, eyes downcast in embarrassment.

He was momentarily shocked. A virgin? he thought to himself. You have got to be shitting me. He ran a hand through his hair and paced. Fuck it. She'd gotten herself into this position, and she had been intending to rob him blind. She didn't deserve his mercy.

"On your back, slut. Now." He commanded.

Mark opened the bedside table and got out the lube. He'd at least give her that.

"Please, please Sir, don't do this. Anything but this," she whined pitifully.

"I told you what would happen if you complained, bitch. Now shut up and lay on your back." He got on the bed and knelt in front of her. "Do I need to tie you back up? I'm not going to be happy if you fight me."

"Yes, please Sir," she sighed dejectedly.

Mark tied her hands to the bed again, taking the opportunity to appreciate the vision she made in his bed. Her young, taunt body was curved in all the right places, pert breasts topped by rose pink nipples, her pretty lips, her dark hair, mussed and spilling off her shoulders. She was a beauty. He was going to take his time sullying her and enjoy it completely. He knelt in front of her, grabbed a stray pillow off the bed and forced it under her hips, admiring the way it opened her up fully to his view. Her pink, hairless pussy shone slightly with her own wetness, and her tight little ass looked all too tempting.

"Looks like you've been enjoying yourself, slut." He slicked his finger up her slit and flicked her clit, making her jump.

"No, n... No Sir."

"Lies. I can tell just by how wet you are." Mark began kissing her again, while he stroked himself and coated his cock with the lube. He smeared more on her and slipped his cock up and down between her lips, teasing her and making her shiver in fear. He watched the fight on her face between arousal and terror, grabbing her face when she attempted to close her eyes and look away from him. "You're going to watch me, slut. I want to see you." Mark placed his large hand over her mouth and pressed his cock against her ass. Dahlia's eyes widened with the knowledge of what he was about to do to her.

Mark forcefully began pushing his cock against her ass, getting nowhere until he slipped a finger coated with lube inside of her. She stretched just enough for him to get the head of his cock inside of her, and then rammed himself hard and deep.

Dahlia's body bucked as Mark ripped her ass open with his huge cock. She screamed instinctually, but Mark's hand muffled any sound that would have escaped.

Mark groaned in intense pleasure. Her ass was gripping him so tight. He pulled out slowly and rammed himself inside of her again, steadily picking up the pace. He wasn't going to last long.

Tears streamed down Dahlia's face onto his hand, her eyes closed and body wracked with sobs from the pain he was inflicting on her. Mark smiled, removing his hand from her mouth and wrapped it around her throat. Dahlia's eyes sprang open and her body clenched in fear, making her grip even harder around his cock. With a long shuddering groan, Mark buried himself to the hilt inside of her ass and came long and hard, waves of the orgasm washing over him as her body clenched against him, attempting to get him out. He collapsed onto her still sobbing form, allowing himself to soften completely before finally pulling out of her and rolling onto his back beside her.

Dahlia lay there, wrecked, sobbing, face swollen from the punch she'd taken earlier. She was hurting and helpless, at the mercy of a man she barely knew. She was starting to realize that this wasn't going to be as easy as she'd thought. He'd wiped all thought of easy right out of her brain.

Mark sat up and began releasing her from her restraints. "Get up, go take a shower, and dress. I've put a dress for you on the counter. Put the dress on. Nothing else. We have work to do, slut. If you do so much as think about running, it's going to be even worse for you."

Dahlia wiped her face, slipped out of bed and walked, exhausted and hurting from the room. At least the shower would feel good.

When Dahlia finally came downstairs, showered and dressed, Mark was waiting for her at the kitchen table. Dahlia looked around and noticed a large pile of the things that she had attempted to steal right inside the door. She looked at Mark nervously.

"Come sit, slut," he motioned to the chair beside him.

Dahlia sat next to him delicately, hyper aware of how sore her ass was.

"Now, I'm going to explain to you exactly what's going to happen here. Since you seem to be so attached to my things, you're going to spend at least the next week cleaning my house, cooking me dinner and in general serving me in any way I so choose. We're going to start with you cleaning up the mess you've made of my things. As you can see, I've piled them there for you to sort and put back where you took them from. I know where everything goes, so if you place something where it shouldn't be, there will be consequences. For everything you misplace, you will receive punishment. You have two hours before you need to begin cooking dinner, so I will give you until then to get this all cleaned up and replaced. Likewise, for every item you do not replace in time, you will be punished. You may begin."

Dahlia shot up out of the chair and made her way quickly to the pile. It was a lot. It had taken her almost 4 hours to load everything into the truck. She could only imagine that it would take double that to place everything back in its place, and that was if she knew for certain where everything went. She hadn't paid much attention when she had been grabbing things. This was going to be a difficult task.

She worked diligently for the next 2 hours, but at the end of it there was a small pile of things at her feet, and she was sure that most of the things she had managed to put back weren't where they had originally been.

Mark got up off of the couch where he had been browsing the internet on his laptop and idly watching a TV show. "Time to get dinner started, slut. How much progress have you made?"

"Not enough," Dahlia sighed, resigned to her fate.

"Well, while you cook dinner, I'll finish up. There is stuff to make spaghetti in the refrigerator. Do you think you can handle that?" Mark replied.

"Yes. I think I can manage spaghetti." Dahlia made her way into the kitchen, she didn't have any idea what these punishments would be, but if they were anything like what happened earlier, she wasn't sure she would be able to take them. She was shaking again. Hands unsteady as she pulled out the ingredients that she needed to cook. She tried to put it out of her mind and began cooking.

Mark watched her closely as she prepared their food. Her smooth, sure movements, deft hands chopping onions and stirring sauce. He was entranced with her body, the movements of the dress as it swung around her hips. He walked over as she stirred the sauce on the stove and gripped her hips, buried his face in her hair and nipped at her neck with his teeth. Dahlia moaned and instinctually pushed her hips back on his, arching her back as his hands wandered up to her breasts. She could feel him growing hard against her, and despite her fear found herself melting into his hands. He lifted the dress, sliding his hand across her hips and cupping her possessively, letting his fingers tease across her clit, feeling her grow wetter with each stroke.

Dahlia gasped softly, then sighed in pleasure as he touched her, resting her weight on his hard chest as he made her a slave to his ministrations. He built the pleasure, each stroke of his fingers pushing her higher, drunk on the feeling of making this woman he'd just raped and destroyed earlier, submit to him so easily. Right when she was about to climax, he stopped. She cried out in protest and turned to look at him, frustrated.

"Finish dinner. I'll go open some wine."

As Mark opened the wine, she plated the spaghetti and vegetables and put everything on the table.

"You're not eating at the table." Mark said, nonchalantly. "Your plate goes on the floor."

"The floor?" Dahlia asked incredulously.

"Yes, the floor. You haven't earned the right to eat at my table, slut." Mark replied.

Mark poured himself a glass of wine and then poured an equal amount into the bowl he'd gotten out earlier. He took the plate that Dahlia had set on the table next to his and set both the plate and bowl on the floor at his feet.

"You have got to be kidding me." Dahlia looked at him.