The World's Greatest Bank Robber

ENTERED INTO THE 750 Word Project 2024

I'm reluctant to share this story.
A person engaging in the life of crime that I've chosen to pursue doesn't give details if they plan on prolonged longevity. Anonymity is crucial. You've not heard of me and the hundreds of successful heists I've done because being inconspicuous was exactly my intention.

I'm sharing this story of being a robber of banks because, after 30 uncaught years,
I was, unfortunately, almost apprehended. This story of my last bank job scared straight me into permanent retirement.

See, I've never worn a mask to hide my identity. Never handed threatening notes to a teller nor strong-armed anyone or used weapons to obtain my valued spoils. I simply go and take what I want. Sometimes, I may outright ask for my loot, but that's not a necessity. All of this just adds to my thieving greatness! For I...

...I am (was)! The greatest serial pilferer of writing utensils from banks ever known!

Go ahead! Laugh away! But find me a thief, as I technically am (was), with as sparkling a record. Anyone else would be communicating to you from jail, not the comfort of their home.

I steal the occasional felt tip, but mostly ballpoints promoting the various bank names. I've a collection of hundreds, but it's the elusive fountain pen that's the crème de la crème!

A new bank was opening 2 counties over and offered up giveaway swag to entice new clientele. I figured on rubes hoarding the mugs and tee-shirts and, as anticipated, upon arriving, the bank lobby was packed. No worries. The gold-plated ballpoints and fountain pens were what I desired and could possibly acquire still through the drive-thru.

I sent the canister to the teller informing her that I needed a deposit slip and that the pen already there wasn't working. To my surprise, she sent back not only the original pen, but a gold fountain as well, explaining that that was all she could find at the moment.

I sat, canister in hand, staring at my amazing fortune. I must've stared awhile for the driver behind me laid on their horn. I looked back seeing a black SUV in my rearview.

"Hurry up! I don't have all day!" a female voice blared through the car's bullhorn.

Hitting the gas I sped off panicked. What was I thinking? Years of caution and I freakout in front of an unmarked cop car?!?!

I pulled off a lonely dirt road to compose myself.

"License and registration."

I looked up seeing the name, Officer Watkins, inscribed on the uniform.
The bloodhound female cop had somehow tracked me down!

"You think you can steal bank canisters in my town?"

"What? No!" I nervously insisted.

"Take it out!" she demanded.

I opened the canister grabbing the pens to eagerly hand over.

"Not the pens, you idiot! Your dick!"

"What?" I asked confused.

"Say 'What' again! I dare you!" she yelled placing hand on holster.

Shaking, fingers fumbling, I unzipped my pants to hold my dick in hand.

"Whooooaaaa!" she cried out, "Bless yo' heart! Whatever did'ya do to God?
It's such a teenie-weenie pecker!"

I felt shamed.

"Stroke it!" she demanded.

"Whaaa... Huh?" I fortunately caught myself.

"Boy!" she said mimicking a deliberate southern drawl, "You's disrespectin'
mah ah-thor-eh-tie?!"

Quickly, I started working my penis between thumb and forefinger.

"Officer?" I cried with real tears streaming down my face, "I won't ever..."

"Shuddup!" she commanded, "You're free to go."

"Whew!" I sighed.

"BUT ONLY..." she smiled, rubbing what appeared to be a stiff woody within her pants, "After the obligatory cavity search!"

"Obligatory???!!!"

Yanking me from car, she spread-eagled me over the hood. I felt the cold tip of a strapon against my buttocks.

Flocks of birds took flight from nearby trees as a curdling scream pierced the tranquil countryside air.

"Now git!" Officer Watkins said, "Don't lemme see you round these here parts no'mo!"

I hightailed it home, still with pens, but convinced from my humiliated penis and sore anus that a thief of my stature wouldn't fare well in prison. This career criminal was...
REEEEEE-formed!

________

I'm reluctant to share this story.
A person leading the life I lead values anonymity.
See, I love dominating men!
The crisply pressed uniform, badge, holster, and the black SUV with flashing lights placed upon dashboard all grant me the authority to easily feed my need.
Officer Watkins isn't my name...
It's just a part of the ruse going into being... America's most meticulous cop impersonator!