ONCE A THIEF NOT ALWAYS A THIEF

I’ll confess, I was a little afraid. I’d just become the Chief Executive Officer of Schwartz Ring and Bearing Company, the firm that my grandfather had founded thirty-five years previously.

It wasn’t that I felt unprepared; I was twenty-seven years old with a Masters of Business Administration. I had worked summers in all of the departments of the company from the time I was seventeen until I’d graduated with my MBA then I’d started full time. Most recently I’d been vice-president of marketing headquartering in our Birmingham office.

My father had followed my grandfather as the head of the firm but with his recent, unexpected death the mantle fell to me, I was coming home to our Illinois home office.

Schwartz Ring and Bearing was a family owned company, all the stock save 100 shares was in the hands of my sister and myself; the 100 shares were owned by Martha Washburn. Martha had been first my grandfather’s executive secretary then my father’s and now she would be mine. Grandfather had given her the shares. She was 57 years old and had been with the company for it’s entire existence, all thirty-five years.

I felt so lucky to have her, her knowledge of the company and our clients would be priceless and, truth be told I adored her. She had literally known me all of my life, when I was young and grandfather would bring me to work with him she always had a little treat for me and, in my adolescence I’d had a killer crush on her.

Martha was still a handsome woman, impeccably dressed and groomed, her hair always styled and stylish, her nails perfectly manicured, her faint amount of make-up tastefully applied. She’d never married and, to the best of my knowledge had never dated; I had suspicions about her and my grandfather but never any more than that.

She was everything I expected her to be; she took care of getting my signature added to company bank accounts, set up appointments with the company attorneys and accountants, provided verbal introductions to our largest clients, all in all she smoothed the way for me as I assumed my new position and I was grateful; she was absolutely indispensable.

I was single and not dating and there was a little apartment off my executive office, just a sofa, easy chair, bed, dresser and a mini-fridge along with a closet, I’d use it as living quarters until I could find a house that appealed to me then it would be where I’d keep a change of clothes, but it would be convenient if I had to stay late in the office which would no doubt happened at least once a week.

It was a Tuesday, not usually a really busy day but this one had been hectic. It was after six, Martha was still there working along side of me; I’d be spending the night in my apartment but I needed to get something to eat. I asked Martha to join me.

We shared an Italian dinner and split a bottle of Chianti then drove back to the office. I told her I was going to work a little longer then I walked her to her car, it was a new model Lexus; I remember commenting, “Nice car.” She thanked me for the compliment and for dinner then drove off.

Her light fragrance lingered in my senses as I returned to work; I had to confess to myself, I still found her alluring.

It took a bit of time but with Martha’s unending help I finally settled into my routine; I wanted to thank Martha for her unhesitating assistance so I arranged for a special dinner, just the two of us and I was going to give her a salary increase and an additional 100 shares of the company.

We went French, the meal was exquisite, her company even more so. When I told her of her salary increase she thanked me but when I presented her shares she was moved, with tears of happiness in her eyes she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek; “Thank you, this means so much to me Chris.”

Unbeknownst to anyone within the company; our attorneys, our accountants, yes, even Martha I’d engaged an outside company to conduct an audit of the firm. It wasn’t that I suspected anything untoward but I was new, I wanted to know the overall condition of the business.

A week later I received a call. The auditor wanted to meet with me in some place other than the office; we made an appointment for dinner for two nights later.

Over before dinner cocktails he opened his briefcase and extracted a folder. He laid it on the table and said, “Here is your completed report.”

“God news, I hope,” I quipped.

“Well the company overall is in excellent condition but there is an area of concern that you need to be aware of.”

“And that is?” I asked.

“You have pilferage taking place. It’s not large amounts at any one time, mostly petty cash, but it has been ongoing for quite a lengthy period of time. In fact it predates the scope of our audit, it goes back at least ten years.”

“Oh shit,” I exclaimed, “Any idea who it is.”

“Yes, I have an excellent idea who the guilty party is, in fact there is only one person it can be.”

“Okay, who?”

“Chris, this hurts and I know it’s going to hurt you to hear it but it can only be Martha Washburn.”

“Impossible,” I erupted, “Absolutely preposterous, there’s no way it’s Martha.”

“Chris, I understand but that’s what I’m sure is happening. What I’d like to do is arrange for video and audio surveillance of Martha’s office, see what turns up.”

Hesitantly I agreed. I expected that Martha would be exonerated in short order. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Within two weeks I was presented with a grainy tape showing Martha surreptitiously folding several bills from the petty cash drawer and slipping them into her purse; I was physically sick, I rushed to the washroom as my stomach erupted.

Still, I wasn’t completely convinced; the monitoring continued; unfortunately so did the thievery.

Oh Martha, my Martha, what are you doing and why? I had to terminate her and go to the police but before I did I had to confront her.

How long had this been going on and why, why would she steal?

I needed a couple of days to digest what she was doing.

I guess I was distant from Martha and mopey around the office. Martha pressed me, what was wrong? Her concern was sincere; I couldn’t answer.

Finally, the day of the confrontation and I was still torn; she was one of my very favorite people and she was stealing from me. I asked her to stay late after work saying that there were things I wanted to discuss with her.

After the office was closed I locked up and led Martha back to my apartment.

Damn it, she still stirred me; she was wearing a dotted Swiss dress, black polka dots with thin shoulder straps and a bit of flirtatious tulle around the bottom, her brassiere had to be strapless to accommodate the thin shoulder straps; her shoes were white sandals. I seated her on the sofa and asked if she’d like a glass of wine; I poured each of us a glass of a crisp Chardonnay then sat in the easy chair.

I just watched her as she sipped her wine. She must have grown uncomfortable under my silent gaze, finally she asked what it was that I wanted to discuss with her.

“How much Martha, why and how much?”

“Chris, what on earth are you talking about?”

“Martha, I know what you’ve been doing, please don’t compound this by lying to me.”

“Chris…”

“Martha, I have security camera recordings of your dishonesty, so please don’t dissemble, answer my questions.”

“How much and why Martha.”

She was trembling so badly she dropped her wine glass. The handsome composed woman that was Martha Washburn was falling apart. She gagged then jumped up and stumbled to the bathroom; without even closing the door she dropped her panties and peed, she’d nearly lost control and wet herself, barely making it.

Long after her stream had stopped she remained in the bathroom, eventually I checked on her. She was still sitting on the commode with her panties around her ankles crying.

Looking up at me with her tear stained eyes she pled, “I’m so sorry Chris.”

I asked her to stand then bent and pulled her panties back into place, “Come on Martha, we still need to have that talk.”

“Martha I know this has been going on for over ten years, why?”

“I like nice things and I like to gamble a little, when it started I promised myself that I’d repay what I’d taken from my winnings but I never won enough to get ahead.”

“How much have you taken Martha?”

“Chris, should I get an attorney before I say too much?”

“You may if you choose but I’m not law enforcement. If you want an attorney I’ll phone the police and let them interview you.”

“No, I’ll talk to you. I’ve taken at least a hundred thousand over the last twenty-five years.”

“You started with my grandfather then all through Dad’s term and now mine, correct.”

Again she teared up, “Yes Chris,” she sobbed, “ I’ve done that.”

“Chris, please don’t call the police, I know I couldn’t live if they sent me to prison, I just couldn’t.”

Truthfully, I couldn’t picture this fastidiously neat lady in a gray dress and flip flops behind bars but then; I couldn’t picture her as a thief either.

“What do you suggest then Martha, what should I do?”

“Maybe you could just lay me off so my reputation isn’t destroyed. I could get another job and repay you.”

“That is a thought, isn’t it? But consider Martha, let’s settle on a hundred thousand dollars as what’s owed, even at five thousand a year which would be tough to do it would take you twenty years to make restitution, you’d be seventy-seven, I don’t think that would work; besides you’re my problem, I wouldn’t want you working for someone else; my problem becoming theirs; no we’ll deal with things here.”

There was a stirring in my slacks, I was becoming erect and suddenly I knew what I wanted; I wanted Martha, I wanted her as urgently as when I was thirteen. No question, what I had in mind was coercion, but so be it, she’d keep the life she’d created for herself with one minor change; she’d have a young lover in it; me.

I stood, walked to Martha and pulled her to her feet.

“No police, no loss of job, still my executive secretary, no reduction of income and no restitution if you accept my punishment, otherwise it’s the police, questioning, confession, trial, jail, your choice.”

Her pretty dotted Swiss dress had a tie in the back; I unknotted the bow and unzipped the dress, dropping it at her feet.

“Step out,” I instructed.

“Chris what are you doing,” she asked in a trembling voice, but she complied.

I unhooked her strapless bra and let it fall to the floor. For a woman of fifty-seven she was exceptionally firm, I admired her for a few moments.

She was wearing black thigh high hose; I decided to leave then on. I told her to step out of her shoes.

I sat on the chair and positioned her in front of me.

“Chris, please.”

“Martha, you’ve been a very bad girl, haven’t you?”

She stood mutely, I repeated, “Haven’t you.”

In an almost silent whisper she replied, “Yes.”

“What happens to bad girls Martha?”

“Please don’t Chris, I’ll die of embarrassment.”

“You’d rather see the police, endure your strip and body cavity search and be locked in jail?”

“No Chris, I don’t want that,” she said as she leaned over my lap.

I jiggled her a little to get her into position. For the first time I noticed her panties, silk, smooth, cool, silk, expensive; I rubbed her upraised bottom as I got her ready.

Thwack, thwack, thwack ten stinging blows fell on her pantied bottom. Martha squirmed on my lap, yelping then wailing from her spanking. I stopped and again rubbed her then lowered her panties to her knees.

Crack, crack, crack the sound of my palm on her bare bottom, reddening her, stinging and burning her as she sobbed.

I helped her stand then lowered her to the bed.

“That was for how badly you’ve disappointed me but the next is for the company.”

I slipped out of my clothes, took her panties off and spread her legs.

“Oooooooooooooooo Nooooooooooooooo, please Chris, not this, you can’t, please, please don’t, My God, Chris, I’m a virgin.”

She was squirming, kicking, trying to escape, “Sorry Martha, I guess one could say you screwed the company, this is your payback.”

My fingers were at her vagina, she was dry, not lubricating, I got a little Vaseline from the jar at my bedside and got her ready.

When she felt the head of my cock at her entrance she went berserk trying to escape. I forced her legs back, exposing her to me and forced my way in.

Unbelievable, she WAS a virgin; my cock met her fifty-seven year old hymen.

I couldn’t help myself; she’d wounded me so badly with what she’d done, I said, “Martha, question whether or not it was worth it,” as I thrust forward, tearing her tender tissues, taking her precious virginity.

Oh God, she was tight; I’d never been in any that approached in that regard. Her sounds were music to my ears, she’d cried out when I’d broken her hymen, then little sobs through a throaty moan.

I set up a nice rhythm, pumping her deep, opening her, stretching heretofore un-violated vaginal tissue; she was in a word, magnificent; then a thought struck.

“Have you gone through menopause yet?” I asked.

“Yes, damn, yes, oh you’re hurting me Chris, please stop.”

“Martha, I’m afraid you’re going to have to get accustomed to it, this won’t be the only time, I’ll want you again and often. I didn’t know how I’d feel about doing this but I’ll tell you, it’s wonderful, God Martha, I’ll confess, I’m fulfilling my boyhood dreams. Her tears continued as I pounded into her, thrusting deep, lubricated by her virginal blood.

I felt myself swell and pumped harder, my cock jerked as I poured my scalding semen into Martha, I stayed in her until I’d softened then rolled off.

She was sobbing, “Why Chris, why, God why; I feel so humiliated, so debased.”

“And how do you think I feel Martha, I put all of my trust in you and you violated that trust; not only to me but to my father and grandfather before me. Now you’ve been violated, it only seems fair.”

She rolled over onto her tummy, showing me her back; I don’t believe she achieved her purpose; I massaged her bottom, kneading her cheeks then leaned and kissed them.

“Martha, you have a spectacular bottom for a lady of fifty-seven, in fact it would be wonderful on a twenty-seven year old,” I told her as I slipped a finger into her crack and teased her anus.

“Please Chris, no more, don’t make me do that, too, I just can’t take any more,” she begged.

I wasn’t going to sodomize her, at least not today but I wanted her to experience a little more degradation, I positioned myself between her legs and, with a hand on each cheek I opened her.

She leapt like it was fire as my tongue touched her, I held her in place as I rimmed her then dipped my tongue into her and pumped her with its tip.

She moaned, pleading with me to stop, begging for me to end the lewd lasciviousness of my onslaught; I ignored her pleas.

She was well lubricated with my saliva, her entreaties for me to stop hadn’t ceased but she was pumping her hips against the mattress, raising her bottom to receive my attention, I rolled beside her and turned her into my arms; my hand cupped her bottom as a finger slid between her firm cheeks and ringed her tight rosebud.

Kissing her lips, I pulled her into an embrace, holding her tightly as I slipped the finger into her.