One summer during college, I had a pretty good job situation. Until I fucked up, big-time, and got my well-deserved punishment.
I still get so wet and masturbate thinking about it, all the time. I love being treated like shit, especially with the right audience, and this really pushed me down the path of slavery.
I grew up in San Francisco and went to high school there. I relocated to San Jose for college. Guys tend to notice my big tits first. I also have a killer smile, an ample ass, and wavy brown hair. I am such a little show-off.
The place was called Master Locksmith, a block off South Beacon Avenue. I worked the cash register, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Next door was A&P Custom Doors and Cabinets. They were separate businesses but affiliated. For A&P, I did phone sales on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I got base pay plus commission, and did pretty well. Although not quite as well as I'd have liked.
Joe, who owned Master Locksmith, used to take me and two other employees for lunch at the Chinese restaurant on the corner once a week. He was a good boss, but tough. Late 30's. Thick forearms. Big Packers fan. Spent his weekends bass fishing at Coyote Lake.
Sometimes Dennis, my supervisor at A&P, would come along for lunch. He was half-black, half-Italian. Little younger than Joe. Worked out a lot. He owned this restored '67 Camaro, and would give me a lift in the mornings if he saw me walking from the stop. I usually wore low-cut tops on Tuesdays and Thursdays because, even though he didn't say anything, he was always checking out my big tits. Which I enjoyed. Like Joe, Dennis was married.
So one Monday in July, the bus was early. I got in at 9:30 and the store didn't open till 10. Joe was talking to Dennis behind the counter. When the door chimed, they both turned to face me. Neither was smiling.
"How was your weekend?" Joe said.
"Pretty good," I said brightly. "I bought these new shoes at Eastridge. Do you like them?"
I lifted up my right foot, showing off my new slightly slutty black pumps. Then I did a little twirl, teasing the men with my figure in my light blue summer dress. It had skinny straps that did little to conceal the black lace bra I was wearing.
Dennis had his eyes locked on my ample cleavage, as usual. Joe looked at Dennis, still unsmiling, and they shook their heads.
Joe pointed to the back room. "We need to talk. Now."
"Did I do something?" I asked. I had a nervous premonition of what this was almost certainly about. And I thought I'd been so careful.
"Get in there," Dennis said. There was an undertone of relish in his voice.
I didn't know what Joe was going to do. Unlike Dennis, I'd never caught him checking me out. But two weeks ago, I'd been looking for a customer invoice folder, and discovered a copy of Juggs Magazine he'd stashed away. One page was earmarked. It had a photo of a nude girl about my age, huge tits, kneeling on all fours and showing off her big ass and unshaven cunt to the camera. She didn't look anything like Lindsay, Joe's wife. She looked a lot like me.
In the back room, a black leather couch sat next to the table with our new automatic key-cutting machine. After locking the door, Joe cleared off some back issues of the Mercury News and USA Today and told me to sit down next to him. Dennis pulled up a folding chair.
I had no fucking idea what was going to happen to me. I could feel my legs shaking.
"Let me ask you something," Joe said. "Have you ever been to jail?"
"Uh, no."
"Would you like to go to jail?"
I looked down at my lap. "No, Joe. I wouldn't."
Joe's hand clamped on my wrist. "Show some respect. Say, 'No, sir.'"
"No, sir."
This was the first time he'd ever laid a hand on me. Even in my predicament, it excited me, because I'm a slut and always have been. I was wearing white thong underwear that morning. If Joe didn't let go of my wrist soon, there'd be a damp patch on my crotch.
"How long did you think you'd get away with this?" Dennis demanded.
"With what?" I pleaded vainly. Joe's hand was like iron.
"Stealing from both of us," Dennis said.
"I don't know what you're -- "
"Bullshit," said Joe. He took my chin and made me look him in the eye. "You've been skimming from the cash register for weeks. Five bucks here, twenty bucks there. You really thought I wouldn't notice?"
