Who's The Boss?

I'd received my promotion to Head Office on account of being pretty smart with the computers, and it was pretty obvious that Margaret, who shared my office wasn't that hot with them. It was also obvious she was living well beyond her means - house with a pool, kids in private school and a Porsche. Something didn't fit.

It didn't take long to figure out what.

For anyone who knew their way around the system her tracks were clear to see - tapping cash off the top every month from dodgy accounts.

The morally righteous employee would have shopped her straight away - unfortunately for Margaret I wasn't particularly morally righteous.

I waited till we were both working late one night and the rest of the building was quiet. She'd just brought a couple of coffees back and I watched her come back across the office.

She was early forties but looking good. Slender and short, only 5' 5" at the most, but hard-bodied and tanned (too much time in and around the pool - bitch). Her tits pressed against the silk of her shirt, small but still firm, and the pencil skirt she was wearing fitted nicely round her firm ass. New hair cut (a short bob) and new shoes (heels with straps around the ankles), that morning finished it off. Christ knows why she looked so hot - her husband was an overweight, ginger, loudmouth with no sense of taste.

As she came across the office I knew it was the time, and pulled the evidence from the desk and threw it onto hers.

She passed me the coffee "Nice and strong", with a smile, and sat down.

I carried on tapping at the keyboard.

I knew she was staring at the pages of printed files showing her pilfering.

"I think I'll go now", she said, starting to stand up.

"I don't think you will."

"What?"

"If you walk out that door all of that material will be on Bill's desk first thing in the morning. And you know what that means."

"Jesus. You fucker..."

"Not quite, and very soon. If Bill gets that not only will you be out of a job but I reckon you'll be inside. Everything wiped out Margaret and that's a lot by the look of these files. How the kids doin' in school?"

She stood staring, mouth slowly falling open.

She was a strong, independent woman with a good career - when she said 'What do want?' I nearly came on the spot. But good suits cost money - and from now onwards this bitch didn't.

"Well Margaret, I'm not a vindictive sort and far be it from me to stop your little enterprise. Christ knows, we wouldn't the kids, Oliver and Jessica?, to have to lose their mummy and go to the state schools would we?"

She stared with blank eyes.

"I'm prepared to let you keep skimming from the company in return for a few favours."

She swallowed (hopefully not for the first time I thought) "What sort of favours?"

"Well. Lets put it this way. You can reflect on the situation as you strip naked right now, or walk out the door and face Bill in the morning." I stared straight at her and she knew I meant it - her face flushed and she kept swallowing (good practice).

She stood, almost paralsyed, and I started to get bored, "It's simple Margaret, I know you've got a tight little body under there, so either get it out or head for door...permanently."