THE SHOPLIFTER

THE SHOPLIFTER


MALL PRINCESS


I will never understand how I got into all this. Everything was so right with my life. It would have seemed like nothing could possibly go wrong. I was a seventeen year old high school senior ready to graduate in a couple weeks. My grades were really good, my ACTs and SATs were great. I had applied to three really good colleges and been accepted by all three. I had chosen the very best, Brighton University, an excellent, small private school.

My parents had set up a college fund for me years ago and I had added two very attractive scholarship packages. My life was about as good as it could get.

I was very popular, well dressed and coddled by over protective parents. I did not come from a broken home. I did not do drugs, nor smoke, nor drink, nor hang out with trashy kids.

I was really looking forward to going to college in the fall, but I did have a concern, my new boyfriend. For the first time I actually had a boyfriend. My parents had always been overprotective of me. I am an only child. All through grade school and the first two years of high school they really discouraged my direct association with boys in any fashion; even in a group. I was very popular, had lots of friends, but my relationship with boys had been very limited until my senior year.

During my senior year, I had started to date and then “go steady” with Kyle Wainright. This was a big step in my young life. Kyle was an all round good guy: top student, president of our senior class, and a good soccer player. We knew one another very well. All through school we had been together in classes and in the same group of friends. My parents and Kyle’s parents belonged to the Monroe Country Club and knew one another very well. They were frequently involved in activities together at the Country Club as well as two local charities they supported. All four of them approved of our dating. I know it was just assumed Kyle and I were the good kids and would not make mistakes. We were two young people destined for bright futures.

Looking back, it is so obvious. We were both only children and our parents were living vicariously through us. In both cases, we were our parent’s main interest in life. We were going to avoid all pitfalls, as they defined the “pitfalls”, and really achieve something, as they defined “achievement”. They had great plans for our futures, but really these plans were their plans and these plans certainly did not include an early entangled relationship with one another.

So Kyle and I had been friends all through school, but nothing more until recently. Now we were considered the perfect couple doing all the right things.

We were the attractive ones. He was tall, handsome and in very good shape. He had nice longer, light brown, hair, and dark eyes which were striking. We looked good together, but it was our personalities that were the real winners. You could tell kids at school wanted to be in our group. Even adults, like our parents, found our relationship attractive. Kyle liked my friends and I liked his, which seemed unusual at my school. He was one very nice guy to hang out with. We had fun together.

But let’s get the elephant out of the closet. As our senior year passed the question of sex came up, of course. Kyle began to make it clear he wanted to move our relationship in that direction. We talked a lot about commitment and I did feel committed to him, but I had very strong opinions about sex. I had watched too many kids my age make some very bad life decisions, and sex by far was the most common mistake. Sex was not going to happen for me until much later. Kyle reluctantly agreed and did not push the issue too much. I was glad.

I had a very strong sexual curiosity deep inside. This had been with me since long before puberty and it was strong enough that it worried me. Thus, I kept everything under tight control when Kyle was around. I knew my limitations when it came to intimacy and even heavy petting was out of the question. I was uncertain about how I would handle tempting situations. And I wanted no real sex.

Beyond all the social issues, my virginity was actually very important to me. First, I had a very strong moral issue about sex before marriage...it was just wrong...it was dangerous... but also, my sexual innocence was such an important part of my persona...my self-image. I was the cute virgin and I liked playing that role.

Now put on top of that, health class had really scared me. The thought of disease or unwanted pregnancy really bothered me. The pictures in our health book were terrible and the text so vividly portrayed all the bad stuff that could happen. Frankly, health classes in high school had scared the crap out of me and my friends.

For all these reasons I wanted nothing to do with sex at this age, but the issue created real conflicts for me. I was so aware of a strong curiosity that crept into my mind during idle moments. It was like an unanswered emotional need.

Kyle and I had kissed and hugged some, but I was not going let things go further even though a part of me really wanted to. From time to time, he would get all over me wanting to move even part way to the next level, but I skillfully and emphatically resisted. Sex was not going to happen and I needed to avoid temptations.

All protestations to the contrary I knew Kyle liked who I was. I was the cute, sweet, innocent virgin. I was the consistently happy, carefree one and I was always the vivacious center of attention. I could tell Kyle, and his ******, thought I showed very well, and that was important.

In addition I was certain that the possibility of premarital sex would become less of an issue when we left for college in the fall. Kyle and I could keep the same close relationship, but we would physically be apart a good bit of the time. There would be far fewer times when I would have to hold him at bay and “going with someone back home” might even have some real positive benefits as I adjusted to being away at school.

College life was going to be something very different for me. I was going to need emotional support. Knowing that Kyle and I were still close would really help with the transition. I had always been very coddled at home.

My ****** was such a big consideration for me when thinking about leaving for college. I could not have a more loving and supportive mother and ***. They were both very busy with business, activities, and friends; but they always found time to be involved in my life as well.

Here is something very important to this story. My parents were very active socially and went out of their way to include me in almost every social activity. Looking back that is just another way of saying...they liked to show me off. I was very cute and very successful in school and they wanted all their friends to know.

There were many times around their country club, when they would just brag about me so much I was embarrassed. I have to admit it was a thin line, because up to a point I found all the flattery exciting. I know I glowed; part embarrassment, part appreciation. Their friends were, for the most part, older so they made me somebody very special in their circle. I was the center of attention.

My *** was a wonderful, successful guy and several of these people were business associates.

He was doing very well in a very large international trading company, Aronow & Associates. He made tons of money but he had to travel a lot. He was important. He had business friends all over the world and was constantly in contact with someone, somewhere.

*** and I had always been close and as I grew older it was obvious how proud he was of me. As I move through my high school years our relationship had just grown stronger. My world was changing and he was traveling internationally more and more, but he still made time for his Caroline.

I was no longer his little buddy, but I had become a young woman he clearly admired. Our relationship was about perfect, he was always there for me, but he knew when to step back a little as well.

He bought me a new Ford Mustang for graduation; cute, blue, I love it. He gave it to me early in my senior year so I could get used to driving it while still at home, but that was just his excuse. He really wanted me to have fun with it while I was still in high school. I had a great ***.

Mother was also very much on my team. I was still her little girl. She had not been able to see me as an adult yet, but she could not have been more supportive. She just flat doted on me. She arranged everything from my hair to my shoes to make sure I was always looked my very best.

My mother had been a Miss Michigan finalist while in college. Many, including my ***, said I resembled her a lot; blonde hair, blue eyes; with a slim shapely build. I was a bit taller than my friends, perhaps a little smaller in the top; but, but, but, I had a butt to remember. It was by far my best “asset” according to my amigos.

I had three very close female friends. The four of us had been together all through high school. In fact, we had been buddies since grade school. We were known everywhere as the four amigos. We were together whenever possible. We were the group all the kids wanted to hang with—we were the cute girls. To us it seemed like all the girls wanted to emulate us and all the boys wanted to date us.

This last year, our senior year, we had started to spread our wings together. We now had more freedom at home and we had transportation. One of our most interesting routine events was to run over to the mall after school several times a week. Sometimes we might buy a little something, or get a soda, but mostly we just walked around together and jabber about things.

Think about it. We were seventeen years old and we had nothing more interesting or important to do after school than to go to the shopping mall and waste time. None of us had part time jobs. We didn’t need them. None of us were in music or sports or extracurricular activities or anything that mattered. We were so lazy and coddled.

Looking back it is very clear; our lives had only one glaring shortcoming...we were bored, very bored.

This might be very hard to understand, but it is very important to this story. Day after day we went through the same routine with no motivation to change. We were upper class kids, from well to do families, where everything was handed to us.

Consider the subject of money. Money was never an issue. In my case, my *** gave me money whenever I needed. In fact, often he would just leave money on my dresser. I had my own credit card and he made sure the monthly balance was always paid, no questions asked. My friends all seemed to have plenty of resources as well.

My parents, my school, the entire community did everything to assure life was good and safe. All I had to do was fall in line and move along with those things expected of me. The track ahead could not have been more clear...college, marriage, and a predictable upper middle class future with two or three kids. The expectations were like an old TV show.

Boredom was impossible to recognize but it was the big negative issue for me. There was something missing from my life, for sure. The highpoint of my typical day was an afternoon trip to the mall and the typical silly things I said and did there with my girl friends. We did ridiculous thing for a titter...a little thrilly-dilly. We were so complacent and bored, but we just didn’t recognize it.







THE MALL


So we come to a fateful day in mid May, just a couple weeks before graduation. School was out at three and, as usual, the four amigos were at the mall by three thirty.

I drove separately this time. My plan was to walk around the mall for a short while with the amigos, then leave them and run across the big parking lot to Mallmart and buy some makeup before heading home. I wanted to be home in time to change and go to a soccer game beginning at six. Kyle was playing and he was going to be the captain of the team. I wanted to surprise him by being there.

*** was out of town and mother would be gone for the evening. She was to be with a group of her Country Club ladies, setting up for a charity auction. Dinner for me would be “on the fly” as I passed through the house on my way to the soccer match.

Everything went as planned. I got to the Mall on time and met my amigos at the entry. There was a major period of hugs and titters as we met even though we had been apart less than twenty minutes. I was feeling very euphoric, almost what you could call a high. Kyle, school, graduation, college application...everything was going great and these trips to the mall were such fun. We were laughing as we started up the main corridor.

I loved the games we played at the mall. The four of us walked around catching the attention of a good many guys who were just walking around. Some of them we knew from school, some we knew from the mall, others, were complete strangers. No matter, the attention of these boys was very exciting...I had to admit it...and no one got more or their attention than I did.

I always looked great, but today I really looked great. I was wearing my favorite outfit; a short dark red pleated skirt and a white top with a little black vest. This skirt was very cute, but very short.

Like several of my other skirts it had been the subject of discussion at home. *** thought all of my skirts showed way too short, while my mother thought some were too revealing but most of them were ok if I acted “lady like” when I wore them. This particular skirt was among the shortest and both mother and *** had told me this skirt should stay in the closet. For me, it was short, very short, but it was sure a lot of fun to wear.

On this fateful morning my parents were both gone from the house before I dressed for school, so this cute, short, skirt and I were in for a happy day. I had not had it on for a long time. As I slipped it up over my legs I was quickly reminded how very short it was. I only wore little white panties underneath. I felt so sexy, so decadent. I shuddered.

I knew I would have to be careful all the time or I would be putting on a burlesque show. That thought alone created a tingle up my spine.

As I walked out of my room I could feel the hem of the skirt moving against the back of my upper legs and that added another wonderful tingle.

Frankly, I have to be honest; I really liked shorter skirts. I looked so cute and they emphasized my butt which is my very best feature. But then, I really had great looking legs as well...sooooo in a short skirt, I got a lot of attention.

I knew we would be doing a safari to the mall after school. This outfit, and the responses I anticipated getting from the boys at the mall, created an excitement which would entertain me throughout the day. In addition, moving from class to class would be a real adventure. Dressing this way, was the big excitement in an otherwise boring day.

Looking back I cannot believe how aroused I would get just thinking about teasing the boys. All day I would be award of how attractive I was and how much attention I was getting. By the time school was out I was so horny, there were times I wondered if I could safely drive to the mall.

At this point judging from what I have told you, you must think I was a sexual slut. But you must understand another point about my sexuality that is very important to this story. Sexually, I was a Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde. My sexuality was such a conflict for me...a major conflict...a conflict that had gone on for a long time. It was a tremendous battle going on deep within me...a battle between good and evil. I dressed and acted one way, but my moral compass was strongly in the other direction.

I got such pleasure wearing sexy stuff and flirting. I wanted to tease these guys until they cried while all the time staying in complete control of the situation so absolutely nothing would happen.

I referred to myself as the reluctant virgin and wearing a cute outfit like this provided a constant reinforcement of my conflict. I knew I had deep seated urges that could go wild if I did not keep control...and I kept it control.

This need I had deep within was never mentioned to anyone...not even the amigos. I kept it well hidden except at night in bed when it scared me.

Thus, this conflict raged. I loved to wear the outfits, flirt, and go wild with the game, but I constantly was on guard with a firm resolve to arrive at my wedding as a moral virgin.

Beyond the flirting, a big part of the safari for the amigos was the chatter. Chatter among ourselves and chatter with the boys. This afternoon was no exception.

As soon as we got in the corridor, we began to run into groups of guys who tried to corner us into conversation and join us. It was flattering but we had perfected the art of “flirt and flee”. We had invented that term to describe what we did, and we used it often as we talked, teased and terminated with one group after another.

Particularly interesting were the gangs of black guys roaming the mall. There was always a special tension when we passed them. They dressed like a bunch of young gangster...their comments were crude and often profane. Unlike the white guys who tried to befriend us, come on to us, and get to know us...these black guys just tried to intimidate us into having an interest in them. It seemed like way too much of their stuff was directed at me. I stayed in the middle of the amigos.

Today, as soon as we entered the mall, there were two groups of tall gangsta looking black guys who really tested our game. In both cases they were particularly insistent, tagging along making rude comments about how a cute white girl would “get off” on a “date” with them.

Frankly they scared me. They looked and acted like criminals, like black mobsters.

I was the only one of the amigos with light hair and blue eyes and that seemed to get me a lot of unwanted crap from them.

For example, at one point, a strange thrill caused me to lag a few steps behind to look in a dress shop window. It’s hard to explain. I had no interest in the items in the window. I had seen a small gang of black guys behind us and I stopped because doing so created a strange tension me. I honestly did not understand what got into me when I did things like this.

Right away these two taller black guys surrounded me. The tension increased. They suggesting I go with them in their car to get ice cream outside the mall. That was all I could take. Unimaginable tension...I shook all over.

I ran to catch up to the safety of the amigos. I did not look back.

My amigos always tried to protect me by putting me in the middle and moving us along with appropriate snide comments to the black aggressors, but this gang of black guys caused concern. They caught up with us quickly, surrounded us, and then started to get very specific and personal with their sexual innuendoes. They were insistent about getting my cell phone number and trying to hook up later.

We amigos moved along as fast as possible and ended up ducking into the ladies room to get away. I was tingling with fright but the strange reactions deep inside me scared me more than those black gangstas.

Often as we went around at the mall, we would get into a titter. One of our favorites was to talk about white women dragging half-breed black babies around. Considering the undesirable antics of the young black criminals that were always bugging us, we had to wonder how any white woman would end up that way. We amigos agreed it would be horrible having sex with something like that. The little black kids could be so cute, but the white pregnant mothers were a spectacle. Their waddle was a hoot for us. What a show. They gave the bored minds of the amigos a lot of entertainment.

Other conversations we frequently had at the mall were about fat people and the embarrassing things they would wear. We were young, slim and cute, and I was the cutest. We had so much good chatter about fat “trailer court” men with “plumber butt”, and even fatter women. They would put on outfits that were so weird and funny it could make you choke with laughter.

Anyhow, we were at the mall...occupying our bored minds for a while with the usual games as we moved along the corridors.

Today was going to be an exception to our routine in that I had less time than normal. I had plans to go to a soccer game and I was anxious to get out of the mall and on my way. All this crazy stuff with the boys and our wild titters would have to wait. I actually had something meaningful to do.

It was four by the time I left the others at the shopping mall and was in my Mustang headed across the large parking lot to Mallmart to get the things I needed. I was a bit behind schedule. I was hurrying. I was really upbeat about the whole idea of surprising Kyle at his soccer game. I found a parking space right away. It was fairly close to the entry...this was going to be my lucky day.

I parked, went into Mallmart and headed directly down through the aisles toward the cosmetics section. I was in a hurry. No shopping today. I knew exactly what I wanted...special lipstick and eyeliner. I knew right where they were...I look at nothing else. I just rushed along.

The store was crowded. It took several minutes for me to get all the way back through the store, find what I wanted, pay for it, and head back out. The cosmetics section was a bit of a bother. They wanted you to pay for things right there in the department rather than at checkout. There were two girls in line ahead of me, so I had to wait. I became more and more anxious and uncomfortable. I was getting later and later and I was so aware of an urgency that kept getting stronger and stronger as I waited.

By the time I was done I was really getting late and this tingling was way strong.

As I hurried back through the aisles toward the exit I realized I had been given an extra large shopping bag for the three little items I had purchased. They must have been out of smaller bags in cosmetics. It was hard to handle as I rushed along. It kept banging and rubbing against my bare thigh creating this tingling in my lower body.

The isle was particularly crowded as I neared the electronics section and there, sticking right out in the aisle, was a big display of the new Play Station Four. I was really hurrying along, but the display caught my attention. The PS4’s were in cute attractive boxes that just looked interesting. I stopped. My cosmetics bag came against the front of my bare leg. I had a sudden titillation and I reached over and dropped a PS4 box in my bag. The box was relatively small, my shopping bag was way bigger than it should have been, and that was it, I just hurried on my way.

An undeniable thrill welled up inside me as I rushed off with it. It grew into an intense thrilly-dilly feeling by the time I was out of the electronics section and headed on through the maze of isles toward the exits.

I had never thought about doing anything like this. Stealing was something that had never crossed my mind. I always had money. I could buy anything I wanted. But the instant thrill I got from doing this was something else. It made the thrills I got teasing the boys pale by comparison. I was a thief.

I had no need for the Play Station Four. I did not even know what it did. We amigos had talked about a PS4 a while back, but I don’t think any of us honestly knew much about it. We had just heard it advertised a lot.

I knew taking it was very wrong. I knew it was illegal. I am sure that is what gave me the thrill.

As I moved through the aisles this thrill grew stronger and stronger.

I feared setting something off. Were there sensors somewhere which would sound an alarm? The tensions and the thrill grew even more rapidly. I moved faster toward the exit.

Then I began to worry. This was not a good idea. Guilt swept over me. I looked around. It was then I noticed two very large black security guards walking a ways behind me. I had to keep moving faster; to slow down would be suspicious.

I had a panicky thought to just drop the entire shopping bag on a counter somewhere. I really didn’t need the cosmetics. A glance behind told me the guards had gotten closer. They were talking and looking around rather nonchalantly, but now they seemed to be getting closer all the time. Maybe it was just my guilty conscious, but they seemed to be moving right with me as I passed the checkout counters by going out among the incoming customers and moved on toward the exits.

All I could do was keep a straight face and walk on out. I remember my heart beating in my ears. There was a nervous lump in my throat. I had never done anything like this. What was I thinking?

As I approached the automatic doors, the two guards were finally right behind me, and as I went out the doors I was met by two incoming guards. The four of them surrounded me just outside the exit, one showed me credentials, as together they walked me into a small security room just to the right of the main door.

It was the ultimate trauma of my young life. The momentary thrill had been replaced by a stark terror. I was a wreck. I could hardly walk. I was choking. I could not speak. Tears were running down my face.





THE INQUISITION




Once in the security office I was told to wait in a straight chair backed up against the wall. I could feel my eyes filling with tears. I sat down and stared at the floor. I was shaking all over.

Three of the guards turned and left the room, leaving me alone with the older and larger guy who had joined us at the door. He was scary, black, and big, with close cut hair and a military bearing. He looked like a monster. He didn’t say a word. He just walked over, sat on the edge of the small desk, and looked down at me sitting in a little red plastic chair. Minutes passed. He continued to look at me sternly while I looked at the floor, sweating. The room kept getting smaller and smaller. I was having trouble breathing. I felt like I was going to choke or vomit.

Finally, there was a knock at the door. It was one of the guards returning with a CD. He placed it in a PC on the desk, said something to the big guard, then turned toward me with a toothy grin, and left the room.

Immediately a flat screen on the wall came alive. It clearly showed me moving down an aisle, hesitating in front of the Play Station display, placing an object in my cosmetics bag, and then continuing on my way. Camera after camera followed me, locked on, as I proceeded out through the isles.

My terror was interrupted when the senior guard spoke to me for the first time,

“Young lady, do you know why we apprehended you?”

There was nothing to be gained by arguing.

“Yes, I think so.”

I whispered in fright. I was shaking all over.

He hesitated just looking down at me very sternly,

“I must warn you, this is being recorded. Everything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?”

I nodded, yes.

“I want you to stand up, take the stolen merchandise from your bag, and place it on the table. Also I want you to put your driver’s license on the table for identification. You can take your driver’s license back once we have a picture of it.”

I stood up, and as I bent down to get the shopping bag I was shocked to realize just how very short my skirt really was. No wonder my *** was upset about it.

I shook all over.

This big black guard was watching every move I made. His eyes seemed to rove all over me and then fixate on my legs.

My vest was the small open type. Under it, my blouse was thin and revealing. I tied to wrap the vest around me and hold it in place across my breasts with one hand as I struggled to place the required items on the table with the other. My attempts failed. Each time I reached for something my vest fell open. Fear had caused my nipples to stand out and they showed through my thin blouse. Standing where he was, I knew he could see everything.

It was terrible. His eyes were locked on me. Each time I bent down for an item my vest fell open and my skirt moved upward behind me. I could feel his gaze moving back and forth from my legs to my breasts.

Why had I worn such seductive things to a shopping mall? I shuddered all over from fear and embarrassment.

I saw the guard’s gaze move momentarily to a large flat screen monitor on the wall beside his desk. Right now it was showing every move I made. I trembled all over. I was being recorded and what I had put on today to tempt the boys in the mall was now so embarrassing.

Once I finished putting the contents of my shopping bag on the table, I gathered my vest around me and turned to face my accuser. I was unstable. I went back against the table for support. He pointed back to the chair against the wall. I struggled over and sat down carefully adjusting my skirt while he watched every move I made.

I was sobbing,

“Please sir. I am sorry. I have never done anything like this. I don’t know why I would do such a thing today. I have plenty of money with me. Please just let me pay for it.”

I turned a little and pointed at the Play Station.

“That one thing is all I took...the rest I paid for back in cosmetics. I have no idea why I took it. I don’t even want it. You have everything right there. I just made a terrible mistake. Please just let me go...”

I kept sobbing. I was stammering, saying what ever came to my mind.

He looked at me with a scowl I will never forget. I felt so trapped. There was not one pleasant thing about him. He was so black, so enormous; he was scary, plain scary,

“Young lady it is nowhere near that simple. You are a shoplifter, caught dead to rights. It could not have been clearer. From the moment you took the product, you had no intention of paying for it. You simply dropped it into your bag and walked out of the store. Shoplifting is a major crime and one we address very severely here. When you shoplift you are as guilty as someone who robs a bank. That PS4 you shoplifted is valued at over five hundred dollars so that makes your crime a felony here in New York State; a major felony; just like you stole five hundred by sticking up a bank. Do you understand?”

I nod. Tears were streaming down my face. I was shaking uncontrollably.

His look turned even colder,

“My main job here is to keep shoplifting to an absolute minimum and I am damn good at that. This company prosecutes to the limit. That is the only way to stop it.”

He froze for a moment looking directly at me. I was crying and shaking uncontrollably.

His face seemed to turn lighter. I knew I looked terrible scared and terrible cute. Was my cuteness and remorse getting to him?

Not so. His looks hardened again and he went right back at me,

“Sometimes when these young kids take little items, just scaring the hell out them can be effective, but that’s not the case here. Your shoplifting was a felony and you are clearly old enough to know damn well what you were doing and the consequences if you got caught.”

He hesitated and scowled at me.

“Do you want to see the evidence we have? There are security cameras and security personnel everywhere in this store. I have two guards who witnessed and reported you. I have a clear security camera record of you shoplifting a major item in electronics, not paying for it and rushing past the check out to the exit with the unpaid item in your bag. Finally, I have video of you removing the item from your bag here in the office while admitting for the record you committed the felony. Do you want to see the tape?”

I shook my head, no.

All I could do was look down at the floor as I tried to control my tears.

He paced back and forth. For the moment he seemed to be lost as to what to do next.

“I assume you’ve done things like this before? Do you have a criminal record?”

I shook my head, no.

He looked at me sternly,

“Yah, I’ll bet. I’ll never understand you little shitheads that are dumb enough to do this. It seems like it gets it in your blood. It’s an addiction. You didn’t need this stuff. It isn’t like you were starving and stealing food. You just wanted the trill. It’s just another way for kids like you to get high.”

I sat silently, shaking. Tears streamed down my face. My teeth were chattering. Each breath was coming as a gasp. I was perspiring all over.

He stood there staring down at me. It seemed like forever. Maybe he was responding to my tears. He had lectured me severely. Perhaps he now felt he had done enough. Maybe he was finished.

I glanced up. His black features seemed to have softened just a little. Maybe he was even a bit sorry. It might help if I begged.

I struggled to look at him directly,

“Please, please, I am a good person, I have never shoplifted before. I have never stolen anything. Please, believe me. If you have me arrested you will ruin my life.”

Once more his looks turned harsh,

“I will not have ruined your life, princess...you will have ruined your life; you and you alone. You stole the shit. You should have thought about this possibility before you did it.

Now you’re caught and you want me to let you off. You want me to violate company policy, risk my job, and let you get away with a criminal act? You realize my company has the two witnesses and they have security camera footage, right? I’m not the one who caught you. I’m just the one who has to deal with it.”

His look turned darker and darker as he paced back and forth.

“Shit!”

He retorted in disgust as he walked over to a control box on the desk and the video screen went blank. He had shut it off. He was not recording any more. He had everything he needed. I had admitted everything. Maybe he was going to let me off with a warning.

He came back across the room toward me with a strange look on his face.

I looked up at him. It was time to really beg.

“Please, let me go?”

I stammered.

He stared down at me fiercely,

“Little kids that come in the store and do this are one thing. We can normally scare the shit out of them and they will never do it again, but this is something else. Teenage tramps like you come in here and steal just for the cheap thrill. You’re type will try it again and again, getting deeper every time. The thrill is as addictive as drugs for you. You may think you’re a cute rich white girl, but I’m here to tell you you’re just a young thug on the road to destruction. The only way to stop the whole thing is to have you booked and let you face a judge. You need some time in the slammer to think this all over.”

I squirmed in my chair. He was watching my every move. It looked like he really didn’t want to do what was next.

I could do nothing but beg,

“Please don’t have me arrested. I am sorry. I made a big mistake. I will never do it again. Please let me go.”

As I begged his expression slowly change to one I could not interpret. I had no idea what he was thinking, what was next. Finally, he broke into a strange grin,

“Well how about this. You want out of this and I don’t want to lose my job. I’ll have the two security guards who caught you come back in here and you can talk with them. They’re the witnesses, I’m not. You can flaunt your stuff around them and try to convince them to let you off the hook. Maybe you can make them forget what they saw and throw away the tape. That would solve the problem for both of us, wouldn’t it?”

He stopped and looked at me with this strange smile.

I sat frozen.

“What do you think about that?”

I couldn’t say a word. Was he suggesting I bribe those guards? Did he think I was a little rich girl who would pay big time to get out of this?

His eyes played up and done my body and prompted a chilling thought. I glanced downward. I shuddered. The way I was sitting I was sending a message for sure. My short skirt was all bunched up on the side from squirming making it even shorter. I looked like a slut. Was he thinking I might pay them off with my body?

He had become silent. He just stood there looking at me as this terrible fear overcame me.

I sat absolutely silent, frozen. New and very frightening possibilities swept into my mind.

Did he think I would jump at the chance to get out of this by allowing those two black monsters have my young body?

I sat shaking, aware that I might create that thinking when dressed as I was. Then an additional scary impulse passed up through my body...I DRESSED THIS WAY EVERY DAY. I dressed to arouse boys...to generate sexual desire for me. I was addicted to the thrill.

His eyes were locked onto my skirt. I could not move to straighten it. I could not be that obvious.

It seemed like several minutes passed with nothing but the sound of his heavy breathing and my occasional sob.

As minutes passed and I did not respond he seemed to turn angry,

“Well what the fuck, I guess you don’t like that idea. That’s a jolt. Who knows what those two horny bastards would want of a cute young tramp like you. This is a felony and they know it. They know its major stuff and they would want major stuff from you to take the chance of letting you off.”

He looked at me harshly and walked over to the desk,

“Well I don’t like that idea either. It’s wrong. It’s not what I am hired to do. I am hired to put people like you in jail not let you off the hook. Let’s get this over with.”

He sat down at the desk, lifted the receiver, and then looked across the room at me with his fingers poised over the buttons on the phone. His face went blank. He sat with the phone in his hand looking at me so strangely. It seemed like he was trying to convince himself that I needed a final lecture before execution.

He started back through things again but this time it seemed like he was only reviewing for himself. Like he needed assurance that he was about to do the right thing.

“You’re just another criminal shoplifter. We got you dead to rights on a felony rap. The police are used to this. They will have you down town and booked in thirty minutes. The judge will set your bond later this afternoon. Your daddy can come down, post bail and get you out. Then you just face the court case and the penalty. I suspect a good expensive lawyer can keep the sentence for this felony reasonable. Maybe just time court costs and a fine, but even so you will have a record and that will be a reminder for you. This is serious shit.”

He sat, still holding the phone, hesitating. Each of his bitter words had increased my anxiety. I could not have been more scared.

It seemed like he had now come to the end. He had said everything he could. He had thoroughly threatened me, scared me senseless, and now it was a pivotal moment. For him it was all over except the call. I watched as his fingers moved toward the buttons.

I had to do something. Once he called there would be no road back; my life would be ruined...arrest, court, jail, and a felony record. Nothing could be worse. All the hopes and dreams my ****** had for me would be lost. There was no way this could be kept under wraps. It would be in the newspaper. All their friends would know. My image with everyone would be ruined. I had to do anything I could to keep him from calling.

All I could think to do was beg one more time. It was my last chance.

I gathering all my courage to look at him directly,

“Please, please don’t call. Don’t you realize what you would do to me? You would ruin my life.”

I was shaking from head to toe. Tears were flowing down my face.

“Please, please don’t call.”

I choked. I was unable to say anything more. I sat shaking. I looked at him with tear filled eyes. I had done all I could do.

His expression never wavered; stern and determined...but at least he had hesitated for a moment.

Perhaps he now realized how much I regretted stealing? Perhaps he had started to feel sorry for me?

Or did he think I was just a cute young girl who thought she could talk her way out of anything, another spoiled kid?

I glanced away and then down into my lap. As I had squirmed my skirt had moved even higher. When I looked back at him it was obvious his eyes had followed mine. He was looking at me in the strangest way. His face reflected a different emotion. His expression had softened.

I was certain my movement in the chair which put my cute legs a little more on display had moved him ever so slightly in the right direction...away from calling the police.

But, as he turned back to the desk his stern expression seemed to return. He was struggling to regain his composure. It had been a temporary reprieve for me. I watched as his fingers moving over the phone again. I could not just sit still and let him dial. This was so critical. I needed to do anything I could to keep him from calling. My entire life was on the line.

My sincere remorse and begging had not worked.

I had only one appeal remaining...one that had always worked with every male...the one that had slowed him down moments ago. I had to use the only thing I had left...my feminine appeal. I had to flirt, to tease.

The skirt I had on was short and the way I sat made me look very appealing. I had to use that appeal right now. I had to use all I had to keep him from calling the police...anything!

I purposely turned toward him and made no effort to keep my knees together or straighten my skirt as I did. I could feel the hem moving upward on my legs. I did not dare look down now but I knew more was showing for sure.

Was he watching? Was he appreciating how cute I was?

I bravely glanced directly at him.

Yes!!

It was so obvious he had noticed. He was in a trance staring at my legs. He was mesmerized. I had him.

I could look at him freely now without embarrassment. He was not going to look up at me. His full attention was locked onto my legs.

How high had my skirt moved? I had no way to know. But, it had been high enough to stop him, temporarily. What more might work to get me completely out of this situation?

I moved my knees apart just a little and then back together. It was an experiment; anything to draw his attention away from that phone.

His black face took on a hypnotized expression. I could see small beads of perspiration on his forehead. He began to breathe heavily. My little movement had gotten to him.

He forgot the phone, stood up behind the desk, and looked across at me.

He spoke very slowly almost like he was in a trance,

“On second thought I am just going to deal with this myself. I guess you want to get off the hook real bad; right?”

I look directly at him and nodded, yes.

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that, come over here!”

He pointed to the side of his desk.

At least for now, I had changed his mind about calling the police. I was winning. The phone was hung up.

All the time he was talking his eyes were fixated on my skirt. This short skirt and my little move had won me a reprieve, but how long would that last. How did I get out of here?

I hesitated; evidently too long. His face turned stern again,

“If that’s what you want, get over here.” He ordered pointing at his desk.

His gaze was once again stern as it moved up to my face from my lower body.

I stood up and walked cautiously toward his desk.

His eyes followed me as I got closer and his attitude turned brighter. His expression told me the movements I had made in the chair really were all that worked for me. Things were moving in my direction as long as his attention was on my skirt.

But, I needed to get out of here. I needed to use anything and everything I had to convince him to let me go.

As I walked toward him I purposely let my vest hang open. I knew the outline of my breasts would be clearly visible through my thin white blouse. This should give him and additional nudge that could only help my situation.

Yes!

As I move closer to the desk his eyes moved up to my breasts and his expression warmed remarkably. As I walked he studied the movement of my upper body until I hesitated about five feet in front of him. Then his gaze started to move slowly up and down my body and his face softened even more. This was good. The phone was forgotten. I continued to move slowly toward him.

As I got closer his face filled with a new emotion.

“Don’t just stand there princess, lean over the desk.”

He ordered, as he came around from behind the desk.

This was scary but he had moved completely away from that phone and that was what really mattered.

Was he going to spank me? He had said, with younger kids, threats of a spanking seemed to work. This was so humiliating.

I went limp as I leaned part way forward with my forearms on his desk. He came around behind me. With his left hand on my back he pushed me firmly down onto the desk. What in the world was this? What an embarrassing position. This was terrible. I lay there, completely bent over, flat on my tummy with my chin on the desk and my feet still on the floor.

Then one thought dominated all else. I was winning. No calls had been made and he was a long way from that phone now.

I could put up with a little humiliation. Bending me over the desk had to really help my case. In this position the short skirt really worked to my advantage. He was behind me. I could envision how cute I looked from his viewpoint. No way would he be able to hit me very hard. My butt was just too picture perfect.

I was feeling better and better. His mind was off the phone and on to spanking my cute butt. No way was he going to call the police. I had won. Maybe a couple embarrassing smacks...maybe not even that... and I would be out the door. I was home free.

He moved up close to me. His left hand remained firmly on my back holding me down. I waited for the first smack on my butt.

Then everything stopped. His left hand was up between my shoulder blades leaving his right hand free to give me a smack, but nothing happened. All I could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing. I was so nervous. It seemed like he held me in this position forever. What was he thinking?

Then finally he whispered intensely,

“Here’s the deal, lady. See the phone right in front of you, reach over and hand it to me, or...”

He hesitated; like he couldn’t figure out what to say next.

Then the pressure of his big left hand moved on up to the base of my neck.

“Do you want me to just take care of things right here and then just let you go?”

What did he mean? What was he waiting for? Why did he not just smack me? I had no idea what he wanted me to say...what he expected me to do. All I could think of was to innocently beg.

I summoned my strength and tried to speak. It came out as a husky whisper,

“Sir please; please let me go. I made a terrible mistake but I am a good person. Getting arrested would ruin my life. I promise you I will never do anything like that again...“

He interrupted me by moving down close to my right ear,

“So I guess that means you want me to take care of things and just let you go.”

I froze,

“Please, please, anything; just don’t call the police.”

I stammered and waited for him to smack me.

Slowly, his free right hand lifted the back of my skirt while his left hand still held me pinned to the desk. I was mortified. The thought of him spanking me was unbelievable embarrassing, but if that is what it took.

I waited, only to feel him start sliding my panties downward behind me. I tightened my legs together as much as I could, but he took them clear down the back of my legs to the floor.

More humiliation; was he actually going to spank me on my bare butt?

He bent back down over me again, very close to my ear. His words were hesitant, stern, dark,

“Well, let’s get this over with... here it is, sister; the choice is yours. Move your legs apart or reach over there and hand me that phone. One or the other... let’s get on with it...just let me know what you want.

Do it now...one or the other. Let’s get this over with.”

With that, it was very clear; he wasn’t going to spank me. I moved my legs apart.

His hold on my neck got stronger. I heard his zipper. I felt his penis come against me. I felt pressure. He was so big, so hard. He began moving up and down against me. He was wet. I could feel the moisture.

Each breath he took was getting louder and louder, almost like a snort.

He hesitated and then he whispered right down next to my ear in the most excited voice I had ever heard,

“So it would seem this is what you want, right? You want to take little of this and then just get the hell out of here...right?”

His whisper was so low and so intense.

His penis had found the right place. I could tell; right against the entrance to my vagina. He had stopped there, waiting; it seemed like forever.

I was facing the wall with my chin pressed down against the desk. My arms pinned under me for support. His one hand on the back of my neck was holding me down. He had the other hand guiding it against me. I couldn’t move.

This was such a misunderstanding. I was mortified...frozen in place. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I tried again and again, but I managed nothing but a choking sob.

Time after time he would push it against me; then moved it up or down just a little, and then push again, over and over. I could feel more dampness. It went on and on as he pushed harder and harder. He had pushed me forward enough the front of my legs were riding against the sharp edge of the desk.

Finally, he let up the pressure and began just slowly moving it up and down along me. It felt wet and enormous.

A feeling of relief overcame me. He was getting nowhere. There was no way he could get inside me. He had to be embarrassed. He would certainly let me go soon. I had paid my price.

Then he stopped completely, with it still positioned against me. He was breathing very heavily. Once more he leaned down right next to my ear. He sounded very frustrated,

“Say the word, sister. Is this what you want? One thing or another; either hand me that phone or quit fighting me and move your damn legs apart further.

Take a little of this and you’re out the door Scott free. What’s the verdict sister?”

In that moment, it seemed like my whole world depended on just getting the shoplifting behind me and getting out of there.

He had to know he was way too big to possibly enter me. He had tried very hard and gotten nowhere. I calmed a bit. A couple more minutes rubbing against me and it would be over. He would conclude he had scared me enough. What he had done to me was terrible, but it was nowhere near as bad as being arrested.

I moved my legs apart just a little and raised my butt just a little as well.

That was it. Maybe my movement was too submissive...looking back it doesn’t matter. When I moved, he was done just rubbing me. He was convinced he could get inside me.

He pushed it straight into me until it was unbearable. The fronts of my legs were driven against the sharp edge of the desktop. His weight spread me even further. I felt my vaginal lips starting to give way, horrible pain!

I remember moaning and begging,

“Stop, please stop. Please. It hurts. It hurts so badly. I have never done this. You are way too big. Please!”

He decreased the pressure and hesitated tight against me.

I could still feel the very end of him still against me, but he released the pressure and the pain subsided. His hold on the back of my neck decreased as well. His heavy breathing slowed.

Everything came to a stop. He waited. He seemed to wait forever.

Finally he came down very close to my ear. His voice was very low and husky,

“So you have never had sex and you think it is going to hurt too much. Ok, just hand me that phone in front of you.”

He waited.

Everything was absolutely frozen in time. I was fully aware of the position I was in and what he was trying to do to me, but I couldn’t do a thing. I couldn’t say a word. I couldn’t move. I was completely catatonic. A strange shudder passed up through my lower body. It was a series of feeling I had never known before.

The phone was directly ahead of me on the desk, within easy reach. All I had to do was hand it to him and this would all be over, but I couldn’t move. My entire existence depended on my getting out of this mess without him calling the police.
He whispered again,

“Well if you think this is going to hurt too much just hand me that phone. I’ll get off of you and make the call.”

I swallowed deeply and replied,

“Please! Please don’t call!”

I sobbed.

I will never fully understand what happened next. I remember so clearly I was struggling to get back from the metal edge of the desk and that perhaps caused me to move against him and my legs to move apart even further. Was my movement because of the metal edge of the desk or was it to signal my submission to his demands? I will never know.

Anyhow, that was all it took.

He snorted in my ear.

“That’s good princess, that’s what I want. Here it is!”

And, in one unforgettable horrible move he lunged forward. Unbelievable pain; I let out a scream. His hand slapped around to cover my mouth.

He lunged at me again and again, and there was no question what was happening. His first enormous thrust gained entry; then another hard thrust split my virginity completely; then thrust by thrust, inch by inch, he invaded, deeper and deeper. The pain was excruciating.

He kept driving until finally he could go no further. He was completely inside me. I cannot describe how much it hurt. The initial stabbing pain was now joined by an aching throbbing deep up inside my body. They combined to hurt more than anything I have ever known.

I struggled but his weight and now his penis had me pinned down securely. I screamed but it was muffled by his hand.

Nothing fazed him. He kept working in frenzy; like he was trying to go deeper and deeper. There was nothing I could do. There was no way to stop him. His weight had me pinned to the desk. Everything hurt...my legs, my vagina, inside and out. He repeatedly drove into me as hard as he could. It felt like he was driving a big stake right up through my body.

Then all of a sudden he stopped, shuddered all over, and I felt his enormous erection pulsating deep inside my body. Everything inside me started turning very warm.

He moaned loudly and started to breath heavily like a snort. I could feel his hot breath in my hair above my right ear.

There was no question. He was climaxing deep inside me. Everything became so tight and wet down there. It went on and on. I could feel him drive surge after surge of his stuff deep inside me.

I lost all track of time as he kept pulsating and pumping everything deep into my vagina.

Then his heavy breathing started to subside and finally turn quiet.

He remained on top of me and completely inside me, but he seemed to lift his weight slightly to make me more comfortable.

I lay there in shock. I couldn’t move.

After several minutes he withdrew a just little and held me tightly up against him. I could feel his warm breath against the back of my neck. He was still deeply inside me. We were completely bound together but the pain had decreased.

A strange combination of panic and embarrassment came over me. I had been completely fucked by this big black monster. Every lurid thing I had ever read about unwanted sex seemed to flash before my eyes. He had taken me. He had ***** me. He had hurt me everywhere.

I had paid the price.

I lay under him exhausted bound in his enormous arms and in panic. It felt like there was a large stake driven right through me into the desk.

I so badly wanted to get out from under him and leave but I couldn’t move. He was so heavy and I was completely bound under him.

Deep inside me it was getting warmer and warmer. I could feel his heartbeat in my vagina...or maybe it was my heartbeat...I didn’t know.

My panic kept growing. It was over. Why didn’t he just get off and let me go like he had promised? He had said “just take a little of this”; well I sure had. I had taken everything. He had totally fucked me.

At some point he took his hand away from my mouth and I began sobbing quietly.

It seemed like I had been under him forever, waiting for him to release me.

Finally, I had to do something. I pushed downward on the desk and tried to slide sideways from under him. He immediately took my hands from the desk and wrapped my arms in his as he tightened his hold, moved me back exactly where I had been, and forced his erection back into me as deep as he could.

I continued to struggle but he held me in a death grip.

Finally, I stopped and he stopped. It was less traumatic if I just lay still.

As I froze in place beneath him I began to recognize there was also much less pain if I remained still. In fact within moments the pain stopped completely. I just felt very full down there.

After some time he started to move again, very gently. He would withdraw it very slowly, hesitate and then move back into my vagina all the way in one smooth motion. His movements into me were different now. They were slow, smooth and calculated.

After some time it got stronger and stronger again. His breathing became louder again.

He was fucking me again. He was driving into me every bit as hard as before; maybe harder, but there was far less pain than the first time.

He went at me until he finally shook all over, clung to me, moaned quietly; and once more I felt a warm flood deep inside. Everything was so wet. He was finishing in me a second time.

His body pulsated and he let out moan after moan, louder and louder. It went on and on. He held me tightly and deposited more and more deep in my vagina.

Finally he calmed a second time. His breathing quieted completely. He lay on top of me, still buried deeply inside me, but it was all over.

I became aware of this strange sensation deep in my vagina. I could clearly feel it. It was like a strong pulsation...was it him? Was it me?

There was no question things were different now. He didn’t seem as heavy. There was no pain and even less discomfort. I did not feel as trapped as before, but there was so much more going on inside me.

A strange sense of relief came over me almost euphoria. It was over. He had done it to me. In fact he had done it to me twice. It seemed impossible at first but somehow he had been able to get his enormous erection into me. It had hurt horribly at first but my body had been able to take him just as he wanted.

Now it was over. I had paid a big price for my shoplifting but it sure could have been worse. He was still inside me but the pain was all gone. He had quit moving. My felony indiscretions were behind me.

I had really paid an enormous price. I had been fucked, nailed, screwed, whatever you want to call it, over and over, but I had survived and I was going home with no police, no lawyers, no trial, and no criminal record.

Then suddenly my thoughts turned to my virginity. Horrible! He had taken my virginity. Four over fourteen years my virginity had been so important to me. I wanted to save my body for true love and marriage. Now that was gone forever. That was a terrible price to pay.

I was no longer the cute virgin school girl. I was a low life slut who had just been fucked twice by a black man who was at least three times my age. I was filled with his sperm. I was a tramp.

I lay under him consumed by regret. My entire body seemed to react to this new hatred. I could feel my vagina convulsing around him. He had to feel what my body was doing down there, but he was not responding in any way.

These horrible thoughts would get me nowhere. I struggled to turn things positive. I was now a low life tramp but it was over. I had to just live with it. I shuddered all over.

I had to hope all this could quickly be forgotten, but would I ever forget it? No!

This was the major turning point of my life.

Would this black monster ever forget it? No!

This had to be the sexual adventure of a life time for him.

I could feel my vagina tightening around him as I responded again. I knew neither of us would ever forget what had happened.

I shuddered all over again.

Then there were the guards just outside the door. They had to know what had happened in here. Would they ever forget this? No!

Stories about what they heard in here would spread like wildfire.

I couldn’t stop my body from reacting inside.

Embarrassment swept over me. I could feel my face getting warmer and warmer. My heart was racing. This was terrible. I needed to get away from him. I needed to get out of this place. I needed to go home and hide.

It seemed like he had been on top of me for hours. He was done moving...he was finished with me...it was over...I should be able to get away.

This time I tried to struggle harder to get out from under him. But, as soon as I moved I realized he was still deeply inside me. He let me struggle for a while, like a worm on a hook, before he murmured and tightened his arms around me. Slowly, almost gently, he moved me back against him, hesitated, kissed the back of my neck, and then started to stroke in and out of me. Once more my effort to move from under him only brought him back to life. This time he slowly moved with very long smooth strokes.

I was going to pay even more for what I did.

With each of his long strokes a crude term for what he was doing would crash into my mind. He was ****** me...fucking me...screwing me...boning me...sexing me...banging me...fucking me...screwing me. Each time he stroked into my body one of these terms would shoot through my mind.

It went on and on. I lost track of time. Finally, out of nowhere, a strong shudder passed up through my body, then another. Time after time an intense feeling would begin in my lower tummy and move upward to consume me. They were feelings I had never known before...strong responses I could not deny.

I was brought back to reality. While I had been lost in finding crude terms for what he was doing to me he had become more and more gentle and I had changed.

Everything had changed. His movements had become even slower, more powerful, and purposeful and my body had started responding to him without my realizing it.

A panicky feeling consumed me. I was no longer being fucked. This big black man was making love to me. I was being “loved” by the biggest blackest man I had ever seen. Anything was more acceptable than the thought of him gently “making love” to me.

Making things even worse my body was responding to him. I struggled to stop the way my vagina was reacting deep inside.

He continued to work his enormous erection in an out. I tried to keep in mind that, gentle or not, I was still being fucked. I was a tramp, a slut, a low life. I was worse than any of those trailer court wenches we amigos kidded about. He was a black stranger over twice my age. He had taken my valued virginity and was now just making love to me. I shook all over.

At some point I became aware that the edge of the desk was cutting into the front of my legs again. I tried to move back a bit.

As I lifted and struggled backward he slid both his hands under me. I heard buttons releasing. My thin blouse and bra give way and he found my bare breasts. Holding me tightly by my breasts he lifted me and moved us backward together until my upper legs were away from the sharp edge of the desk.

In doing this he moved me back even more firmly onto his erection.

For months, Kyle had tried over and over to just touch my breasts and I had absolutely refused. I was proud of my character. Now this big black stranger had my breasts enclosed in his enormous hands and was using them as he slowly made love to me. He was working my breasts in rhythm with his stroke, making my body respond to each thrust.

He became more and more aggressive; lifting me higher and higher from the desk, gripping my breasts tighter and tighter...driving into me harder and harder as he worked faster and faster.

Finally, he snorted loudly, tightened his grip even more, drove into me to the limit, and time after time I could feel his surges deep inside my vagina, again. This time it seemed like forever as he held me suspended and delivered into me. There was no way to escape...no way to even lessen his grasp on my breasts...he had me.

Then a repulsive realization passed over me. This time as he climaxed my lower body had responded to him repeatedly. Each time he delivered into me, my vagina had willingly taking what he gave me and then spontaneously tightened deep inside. I couldn’t stop it. I could only hope he wasn’t aware of these internal responses.

For reasons I will never know, I counted every time he delivered. This third time there had been twenty surges before he finally slowed and settled the two of us back down onto the desk top, keeping us tightly together.

Now his body weight along with mine rested directly on my breasts which were still clenched tightly in his huge hands. This caused very disconcerting feelings in my breasts. It didn’t hurt; it was an overwhelming tight feeling like I had never known before.

My entire body was reacting. He wasn’t moving at all and yet I could still feel pulsating spasms deep inside. With each spasm a strong shudder passed upward through my body.

I will never forget him resting deep inside me while my young vagina responded.

We lay there with his weight on me, but for some reason I no longer had a panicky urge to get away. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was submission. I didn’t care.

Everything was very still, except for the uncontrolled spasms deep inside my lower body.

All pain was gone now.

I was resigned to everything. I knew he had to be aware of the reactions deep in my body but there was no embarrassment. I was left with just a stunned, shocked feeling, no panicky feeling, and no real sadness.

It was over.

I had handled it all. With this realization my weird mind started to change. My mood started to turn positive. My valued virginity was gone, but I had won. I had been able to do everything he wanted. I had taken all he had. I was absolutely sure my felony shoplifting was no longer on his mind. He had become very gentle almost loving. There was no way he would report me now...not ever.

I lay there bound in his arms as my thoughts moved onward. All I had to do now was lie here quietly until he released me and then I could go home. It would be over and no one would ever know about this.

Then dark thoughts came back. But wait, it might not be that simple. Who might have seen me being escorted into this office? What a story they would have. What would my parents think if they ever learned about this mess? What if their friends at the club got wind? What would my amigos say if they learned somehow? Holy shit would they have a titter. What about Kyle? One by one these thoughts invaded my mind as I lay pinned beneath this enormous black man.

I could only hope that no one connected with me had witnessed my being hauled into this security office. He had done things to me that I hoped would remain as my darkest secret forever. No one else would ever know what really went on in here. They could speculate if they knew I was here, but they would never guess the severity of what he did to me. I would carry this secret alone forever. I would confide in no one.

After some time, his weight became less on my back and he slowly began to withdraw. He was very deep. There was a strange feeling inside me as he came out of me. It seemed like it took him so much time and effort.

Finally, he was out of me. He released my breasts and lifting his weight from me. I was free of him. I was certain, it was over.

I could get out from under him, but as I began to move backward the lips of my vagina brushed against the end of his erection and he responded immediately. Once more he came down over me...his arms encircle me...his hands found my breasts...he lifted me up and moved back deep inside my vagina all in one strong movement.

My slightest touch had rekindled everything.

Completely remounted deep inside me, he began thrusting again. Strange warm sensations started to pass up through my body. Time did not seem to matter anymore. My mind went blank to everything except his movements within me. I was resigned to what he was doing.

I stayed lost in this strange confusion until once again he began surging into me. With each surge he gripped my breasts harder, drove deeply, and deposited more.

All this contributed to increasing the strange pulsating sensations throughout my body.

This time they rose to a fevered pitch.

My entire body began responding spontaneously to what he was doing. My back began arching in rhythm with his thrusts bringing my vagina to meet each stroke.

My hands came beneath me and encase his. I couldn’t stop. Was it to protect my breast or add to his movements? I will never know.

My vagina tightened around him. At first it seemed like my body was trying to limit how far he came into me, but then a panicky realization came over me...my body was actually trying to get as much of him as I could and then stop him from withdrawing.

Each time he moved outward an empty feeling would come over me and my body would try of its own accord to keep him inside me. This was horrible. This was the last thing I wanted to do, the last thing I wanted him aware of, but over and over, as he moved inward and deposited my lower body would respond struggling to take everything and then retain him.

There was no question he was aware that things had changed for me. It was so obvious. He was becoming more and more gently and lovingly. He was routinely stopped moving down below and kissed the back of my neck and around to my right ear as he let my lower body convulse around his penis.

Finally, he let his weight down onto me completely. His arms tightened around me. His hands grasped my breasts even more tightly. He had me captured in a strong embrace. He stayed that way, wrapped around me, holding me in position. All went quiet as he lay on top of me holding upward against him. He was such a big man but strangely he no longer seemed heavy on me.

Then, it was over. He released my breasts and I felt his weight come off me as he slowly began to withdraw. I had a tinge of embarrassment as my vagina reacted and tightened around him such that it once again took effort for him to come free.

Finally, with a strange pulling sensation and a sound I will never forget he came out of me.

I was exhausted; numb. With him gone, it felt strange, wet and cold down there. My lower body was having one uncontrolled spasm after another.

He stood up and backed away. I heard his zipper. He was done with me. I lay exhausted on my tummy aware that my bare butt was completely ******* to him. I was free of his weight, but I couldn’t move...I couldn’t get up. I was in the strangest position, frozen in place lying on his desk with my back side completely bare. I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn’t. It seemed like I didn’t know what to do next. I didn’t want to face the next step. To even admit there was a next step.

Finally, he pulled the back of my skirt down over me, took a firm hold of my elbows, and with his help I managed to move backward and stand slowly, facing the desk with him behind me. I was completely unstable leaning forward against the desk while his hold on my elbows kept me from falling left or right.

He stepped back and removed his hold on my elbows. I struggled to remain stable as I straighten what remained of my blouse. Then I turned gingerly looking for my panties. They were kicked over by the trash can. Without looking at him I tried to move to get them. I couldn’t move. I staggered back against the desk. My legs were unworkable, tied in weak spasms.

With that, he spoke his first words since taking me.

“Leave them there. I just want you to get the hell out of here.”

He ordered, sternly. I froze.

I still couldn’t look at him, but I was aware of his movement as he turned to the table behind him, picked up the Play Station Four, and turned back toward me.

“Take this thing back where you got it and then get the hell out of my store.”

He ordered gruffly, as he rudely shoved the Play Station box toward me.

I took it from him in both hands and tried to move from the desk, but my legs still refused to work. I was limp. As I tried to turn I fell backward against desk again.

My entire body was jumping all over inside; one spasm after another.

He looked at me strangely and then took hold of my arm again to lift me away from the desk. With his firm grip on my arm I struggled toward the door. Each step was uncertain. My lower body was jumping all over. I was so tender and so wet down there. My legs felt like rubber.

He unlocked the door and usher me out.

I heard him firmly close and lock the door behind me. I did not look back.

I stood there just outside the main doors to the store shaking all over. They came open automatically. I struggled into the store. With each step I was uncertain that I could walk further without falling.




AFTERMATH




The two security guards that caught me shoplifting were right inside the door. Their faces said everything. Their big Negro grins told me they knew I had been fucked, really fucked.

I was mortified. Tears filled my eyes.

I dobbed at my face with the back of my left hand, while trying to hold the play station box, and keep my vest closed with the right. My vest fell completely open ******** my tattered blouse and torn bra.

I gathered the remains around me and stumbled past them, and on into the store. I was so unstable. I felt like I needed a bathroom so badly. My lower body was so wet...so cold. I could feel the dampness on my short skirt against the back of my bare legs.

The two guards followed me as I moved into the store. Right away I struggled past another black employee who was there to greet customers. The three of them exchanged comments behind me. I could not hear what they said but I distinctly heard the slaps of “high fives” as I move along.

With each step my lower body convulsed which caused me to double over as I walked.

Why was he making me take the Play Station all the way back into the store? Couldn’t they have just restocked it like a return item? This was so embarrassing. Was he making me do it just to humiliate me further...to make me parade in front of people in this condition?

I thought of just dropping it somewhere and leaving, but I couldn’t risk a scene with the guards following me.

The store was so crowded. To my tormented mind is seemed they all knew what had happened to me.

Everyone shopped here; my school mates; my ******; friends.

Everything about me told the terrible story of what had happened in that office. My thin blouse was tattered with most of the buttons missing. My bra had been torn apart in the front and now hung useless at my sides under what remained of the blouse. I tried desperately to hold my vest closed over my breasts using my free hand but that was largely unsuccessful.

My breasts seemed to move painfully with each tortured step. I knew they had to be visible over my supporting arms through the remains of my thin blouse.

I could not look down. My skirt seemed shorter and shorter as I struggled. I felt so *******, so wet, so cold. With each step I could feel my skirt ride up against the back of my legs. I had never been in public without panties.

For me a short skirt had always connoted sexy, seductive, exciting, interesting; now it only told the world I was a slut. I had been fucked and I was now being forced to parade publically.

I could sense the two security guards were following a short distance behind me. I was mortified. I tried to move normally, but it was impossible.

My lower body was racked by one convulsion after another. My legs would not respond properly. Each step had to be carefully planned. I could feel his wet stuff between my upper legs. My thin skirt seemed to ride up and stick to the back of my legs. I needed a bathroom so badly.

The store seemed enormous as I moved through the crowd to shoppers back toward the electronics display.

It took forever.

Once I found the display I put the Play Station box back where it had been and turned to leave. As I turned I faced the two black guards who were following me, plus two more black male employees in Mallmart uniforms who had joined in behind them. They were grouped together not six feet away.

I was startled. The shock caused my arms to drop and my vest then fell open.

I looked down to close it, only to realize for the first time that I was completely *******. My blouse had been torn, buttons were missing, my bra was hanging at my sides; both of my breasts were completely *******. I could not have been more mortified.

I struggled to close my vest over my front but it was so small it offered little cover. I pulled what remained across my breasts, then crossed my arms over top and tried to move as fast as my tortured legs would permit.

I could see security cameras everywhere. Why had I not noticed them earlier when they would have given me reason not to steal? I was too innocent. I had never dreamed of shoplifting. Now I realized just how crazy and hopeless my act had been. Why? Why? Why, did I ever do such a thing? Nothing could be more unlike my normal self.

I shook continually and struggled to hold my vest closed as I moved past the leering guards and back toward the exit.

There was now so much dampness between my upper legs. The air conditioning was so cold and without panties I was freezing.

I was aware of a shuffle of activity. The guards were moving such as to get ahead of me so that I had to pass them one at a time as I struggled along. Each of them gave me an amused grin as I passed.

Nothing was said but it was clear they were only doing this to contribute to my embarrassment.

There was no question...they knew. Word had spread quickly. Soon the four guards were joined by more black Mallmart employees; all of them positioned themselves along my route back toward the main doors.

As I passed each of them commented. Their comments were so artificially sweet.

“Thank you for shopping at Mallmart today, Caroline. Did you get everything you wanted at Mallmart today? I hope you enjoyed your time with us today, Caroline. I hope our service was satisfactory, Caroline. We appreciate the business. We look forward to your returning soon, Caroline.”

One after another...their comments rang in my ears. How did they know my name?

As I passed, each turned to follow me. I didn’t look back, but I knew they were there. I was mortified. I just tried to move as fast as my weak legs would go.

It seemed like forever, but finally I made it. I was out the main entrance only to find the head guard was still standing in front of the security office. He was waiting for me and I had to go right past him. I tried to look down to avoid his eyes but I couldn’t help but glance up as I approached. That one glance scared me beyond measure. His eyes were following my every move. He had this strange expression I will never forget...was it anger, worry, regret, what? I couldn’t tell.

When he noticed my glance his gaze diverted away to the entry doors like he was on duty. A momentary surge of courage came over me. I stopped and turned to look directly at him. He was standing very rigid, military. Even though my eyes were filled with tears it was so clear how very big and black he was. He was enormous. He was bigger than the doorway.

He wouldn’t look at me. This gave me a moment to think. I wish I hadn’t. In the midst of all the torment, as I stood there in front of him, my mind focused on the fact that this big black monster had forcefully planted his sperm, his life, deep in my vagina, time after time. Now I was carrying his life deep inside me and I had no way to get rid of it. Something very emotional came over me. I felt a surge of more moisture between my upper legs. I was responding to these erotic thoughts of him.

I stood there shaking from head to toe. He had changed my entire world.

I turned toward the parking lot overcome, shaking like a leaf.

I could see my high school health book. My amigos and I had twittered about how many sperms are put in a girl during an average intercourse, and what I had just experienced was far from “average”. I was carrying billions of his little things deep in my body, swimming viciously toward my womb, and I had no way to get rid of them.

I shook from head to toe with a strange emotion. More moisture!

With each step I took my body was sending one message after another. Deep inside, my body writhed with the aftermath of what he had done. I was having one spasm after another, convulsing, cramping deep inside.

I hurt everywhere. My breasts were so sensitive and tender. I supported them as best I could with my forearms as I tried to hold my top closed but even so my breasts tortured me with each step.

I kept thinking over and over, well Caroline, you have ruined your life. You are a criminal, a shoplifter, and a felon and you gave your body, your virginity, to that black monster to escape punishment. You are a low life slut.

My thoughts got worse and worse, darker and darker as I struggled out through the cars. What was most horrid, he had made a slut out of me. He had taken his time. He had fucked me over and over. He had finished inside me time after time. In the end he had me responding to him like a whore. I could not help myself and he knew it.

I glanced back. A small group of black thugs had gathered around the guard. I knew what their topic of conversation was. What a bragging point for that monster. I was now the talk of every black employee at Mallmart.

This thought caused another unexplainable reaction deep in my tummy. I went weak and shook all over. Moisture flooded again. I actually had to stop and support myself on a car before I could continue.

Finally I found my Mustang. I was grateful for the feeling of security as I shut the door, belted in and started the engine.

My Mustang has leather seats. Thank goodness, I was sitting in a cold pool before I could get the car moving. I was freezing. I turned off the air conditioning.

I tried to calm down.

Once I was moving, new thoughts swept into my mind...drive slowly, carefully. The last thing I needed was to hit someone dressed like this, sitting in this mess and in this emotional state. I eased my way through one row of parked cars after another; driving as carefully as I could.

When I got to the street my mind went back to what that black monster had done to me. He tore my cloths, abused my breasts, fucked me time after time, and then made me walk the gauntlet back into the store and out again through those black employees. It was like he wanted to put me on display, to let everyone know what he had done to me.

I felt so violated, so humiliated. My eyes filled with tears. I had to keep wiping at them to see.

After a couple miles my humiliation began wane just a little. With that it began to change; first anger, then intense anger, and then rage. I sobbed deeply as I tried to control myself and concentrate on driving.

I was gritting my teeth in wild rage. Shoplifting was a terrible thing to do, but it did not give that big son-of-a-bitch permission to fuck me. There was no other way to describe it. He ***** me. I was carrying so much real evidence in my body.

I needed to go straight to the police. I needed to report him and get him in so much trouble. I was only eighteen and he was at least fifty. That would be real jail time for him. That would end his reign of superiority at Mallmart. He would be finished.

I looked for any place to get off the freeway and head toward the police station. I seethed with anger as I drove on looking for an exit. I shook from head to toe.

But as I drove further trying to find a place to turn around, things changed. I choked down a scream and tears filled my eyes as reason started to overtake my anger.

I drove right past the first exit.

If I went to the police what would happen? First they would see the way I was dressed. Could I have found anything more seductive to wear? I glanced down my front. My skirt was so short, and the way I was sitting made it look even shorter. My torn up top was so thin and transparent. Without my bra it showed every detail. Regardless of what I told the police I would look like a girl who asked for it, got it good, and was now suffering from severe “after” regret.

Truth was, like many other days, I had been “asking for it” even before I left the house in the morning. The outfit I wore told the story. Once more I had headed out in the morning dressed to tease the boys and this time it finally caught up with me.

It was so confusing. On the other side this outfit was what saved me. If I hadn’t been dressed this way he would have simply called the police and had me arrested. He was ready to do just that until he paid attention to me in this outfit and it caused him to stop. He was actually reaching to call the police.

Then before he could come to his senses I began seducing him. I did every seductive thing I could think of to keep his interest away from that phone. He had the tape to prove what I did.

He repeatedly offered to just arrest me. His words, “just reach over there and hand me that phone”...rang in my ears.

I passed another exit and drove on down the freeway. My anger began to subside as my mind moved from what happened to why it happened. How much was my fault? He would have stopped at any time if I simply handed him the phone from the desk. He would have treated me like any other shoplifter if my outfit had not enticed him...if I had not begged him...and if I had not finally nodded and spread my legs for him.

That thought caused a tremor to pass up through my body like an electric jolt. As he held me in place over the desk, I had actually spread my legs for him. Until then all I had to do was hand him the phone and he would have just called the police.

Or would he? Truth was I would never know. I had cooperated with him and he might have a tape that would show that.

I shuddered uncontrollable and once more moisture flooded between my upper legs.

What would he have really done at any point if I had not cooperated? When was it too late to avoid the sexing?

Would he have called if I had just stayed in my chair and refused to move over to the desk? Yes! But, I didn’t give that a moment’s chance. I went directly over to the desk.

Would he have called if I had just stood there? Maybe! But, I bent over the desk as he instructed.

I will ever know at what point I was doomed. I was dressed to entice. I did everything he asked me to do without question. I begged him not to report me. I know for sure when I finally spread my legs as he told me too it was all over. My fate was sealed. I got screwed, really screwed.

Then as I drove my mind was filled with new concerns.

It happened in a very public building. People were everywhere. I never tried to call for help! I never tried to protest what he was doing. I never tried to say NO! I never tried to get away! There were people passing right outside the door, the walls were not that thick.

Certainly the guards outside the door heard everything and would testify I participated willingly without a protest.

I looked down in my lap. This short skirt hardly covered me. Underneath everything was wet. The seat was wet. What a mess. I was free but I was soaked inside and out in his stuff.

Intense anger flared again. There was no reason for him to do what he did. After all it was just a little video game I stole. He had fucked me over a Play Station Four.

Then uncontrollable rage returned. This time I decided I would report him to the store manager. That would get him in so much trouble. He was such a smart-ass with me. He was so pompous, so military.

A new revenge consumed my mind. I would go back and report this to the Mallmart Company.

They would take over and really hurt him. They would fire him for sure. They would have him arrested.

But, to do that they would have to call the police. The first thing the cops would do is interrogate me and start a police investigation. I would be right back where I was in my thinking before, in front of the police.

If I reported him anywhere it would ultimately involve the police. The police would see how I was dressed. How embarrassing.

The police would immediately take me to the emergency room for the **** kit. How embarrassing. I would be examined by a doctor dressed like this and covered with his stuff. How embarrassing. I hated hospitals and the thought of doctors probing me. Regardless of how they acted and what they said, they would think I was a tramp that got screwed...period.

The thought of hospitals, doctors, **** kits, and examinations calmed my mental diatribe completely. There was no way to get back at that monster without untold embarrassment and nothing I could do would reverse what happened to me. I was no longer a virgin. I was a shoplifting slut.

In a way I was very lucky. That guard would never dare report me now. Mallmart would never come after me for felony shoplifting. They have witnesses and all the security camera evidence against me but it was all over.

Thank goodness I had not become irrational in my anger and reported him. Nothing they did to punish that guard would alter what happened to me.

Right now, if I just leave everything alone, everything will return to normal. My lifelong addiction to a thrilly-dilly had caught up with me. It was as simple as that. I had done things I never should have done and paid a big price for doing them.

I looked for anything positive. There were many ways it could have been far worse. He really didn’t hurt me permanently. He seemed clean enough. He didn’t stink, in fact he smelled good. He had a job. He could have been a bum. They do hire real thugs at some of these stores. He seemed almost military. He seemed like a responsible guy.

It was over. He was not the type who would take it any further with me. He wouldn’t call me or harass me. I would never hear from him again. I would never go near Mallmart again. My parents, friends, everyone who counted in my life knew nothing about it. No one knew a thing except the guards at Mallmart and I would never see them again.

This was behind me. I was home free.

I just had to adjust to the fact that I had, had sex. Sex was not that unusual, right? A lot of the girls my age had, had sex...I was sure...but not sex like what this big old black man did to me.

A strong shudder passed up through me. More moisture. It drew my thinking back to my body. My breasts seemed terribly sore and I was so aware of strange convulsions and cramping deep inside me. My lower body was wet and sort of slimy.

I was making a terrible mess on my car seat, but I would clean that up as soon as I got home. With that, this whole thing could be over and forgotten. I was sure everything with my body would straighten up; it was just a matter of time.

I forced myself to calm down and pay attention to driving.

As I quieted I realized that each time I moved a strange physical sensation passed through me. I had not notice this when I was so angry. It would start as a little spasm deep in my tummy. I could feel tightening, adjusting and a strange quivering sensation that would pass upward from my vagina, through my entire body. I had never known a sensation like this.

Each time it happened I could see his face looking down at me. I shook all over. It was warm in the car, yet I was freezing.

All thoughts of revenge, all rage ended. These physical reactions were so strong. They took over my thinking completely and swept away any other thoughts. I completely locked onto what was happening within me as a result of what happened back in that security office.

For the first time I began to realize just how overwhelming intercourse with that black man had been.

Wow! It had gone on forever. He did me four times and each time he climaxed deep inside me. My body was filled with his sperm. He changed my life forever.

Shudder after shudder!

I was so unprepared mentally for what he did. My health classes had been very explicit but, in no way, did class prepare me. The chatter with my girl friends about sex had seemed endless at times but that did nothing. I had read a lot and thought a lot about sex but that too did nothing to prepare me for what he did today.

I began to relive each moment back in that office with him. Everything he did was a complete unknown for me before he drove into my body. That was a violent education. I could see his penis so clearly. He was enormous. How did my vagina take all of that? How did I tolerate him inside me for well over two hours?

Shudder after shudder!

When the omegas and I teased the boys in school and at the mall, actually doing something was never something we thought about. Even during my dates with Kyle intercourse never crossed my mind. I was way too busy maintaining my image and protecting my reputation.

The reality was before that guard ***** me I knew very little about sex. I had never seen a man, penis. I had no idea how big a penis was. Bent over his desk I went from a naive young innocent virgin to an experienced woman in one violent moment.

What that black man did to me was the most horrifying thing I could think of, but it left me with a kaleidoscope of unexplained emotions. When he was finished everything was so complicated. How could he have done what he did...how could I have reacted as I did?

I shuddered violently when I thought about how my body was behaving toward the end.

I turned onto my street.

The thoughts of reporting anything to anybody were gone forever.