Security

As I was paying and about to leave, a muscular Black security guard approached.

- Madam, follow me, he said.

- Why?

-You stole a piece of jewelry, madam, he said, showing me a silver chain from my purse that I hadn't noticed.

Completely devastated, I followed him, my thighs tightly gripping the carrot that threatened to slip with every step. The Black guard guided me firmly toward the back of the supermarket, to the security control room, his thick fingers encircling my wrist like a restraint.

Once we arrived in a room with just a table and two chairs, where another guard was watching screens, he pushed me inside.

- Here, sir, is our little kleptomaniac,

the head guard stood up.

"Put your hands against the wall. I'm going to search you," he said after removing the medallion and its silver chain from my bag.

I felt the carrot slide dangerously between my thighs, its weight damp and cold until it fell onto the concrete floor.

He looked at me for a moment, bewildered, then smiled.

- I see a little vixen who likes to get a thrill. I'm going to satisfy you, you little bitch.

"No, no, have mercy on me about the locket and the chain. I didn't know. I don't know what could have happened." When I said that, I was lying a little. I could perfectly well imagine my invisible master giving me this poisoned gift to put me in a difficult situation, but telling the story wouldn't help.

- Right, hands on the table. We're going to proceed with the thorough search.

He put on latex gloves.

- No, not that. I don't have anything left.

- Hands on the table, and lift the skirt of your white dress. I have a feeling we're going to have some fun. He wasn't in the mood to argue.

I placed my hands on the table, my torso bent over.

- Spread your legs.

I obeyed. As he leaned over me, I felt his body. He searched my red hair, his hands feeling every inch of my body, especially my breasts, my hips, my buttocks, my thighs, then moved back up.

- Okay, now for the fun part.

He thrust his latex-gloved fingers into my vagina with calculated brutality, their knuckles scraping against my already sensitive walls. The coldness of the material contrasted with the moist warmth of my flesh, each movement precise and methodical as if he were inspecting a suspicious object rather than a body.

The guard's latex-clad fingers plunged deeper inside me, twisting with clinical precision while his free hand held my wrists to the table. A blast of cold air hit my damp thighs as he abruptly ripped off my torn underwear, the elastic snapping as I gasped for breath. His thumb found the swollen tip of my clitoris and pressed hard just as two fingers curled upward, striking the spot that drove me wild.

"Still this tight with strangers, little one?" My master's voice purred in my mind as the guard's watch beeped rhythmically beside me, counting down the seconds of the violation.

He thrust two fingers into my vagina. I gasped as he probed my walls, searching for something.

- That's where the carrot was, you little vixen. You wanted to give yourself some pleasure. Let's move on to your anus.

I felt his gloved fingers slide along my cleft, tracing a wet path from my trembling vulva to my throbbing little hole. The latex squeaked against my damp skin as he pushed in roughly, forcing his way in as I braced myself against the table, my nails clawing at the cold Formica.

"You seem used to being filled, bitch," he growled, ramming his index finger knuckle in with a sharp, tinged pain, a mixture of pain and guilty pleasure.

I felt his gloved fingers push deeper, probing with methodical brutality, as if searching for something specific. The latex squeaked against my taut walls, each movement calculated to elicit a muffled sound from my throat.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to be playing the thief, would you?" "You wanted to play with security, well done, you won," he sneered, his fingers parting my flesh with cruel indifference.

I felt his thumb slide into my anus as his fingers resumed their brutal exploration of my vagina, both orifices stretched by this synchronized intrusion. A trickle of saliva fell from my parted lips as his wrist twisted sharply, the latex rubbing against areas so sensitive that my knees trembled.

"Well, nothing more," he said, withdrawing even more abruptly than he had entered.

The security guard pushed me onto the chair. I winced as my battered buttocks slammed against the chair.

- You have a choice: either I call the police or you accept my sentence. In one case, it'll be court; in the other, I'll make you suffer to teach you a lesson about stealing, but you'll get away with it.

I swallowed hard; this was what my invisible master wanted me to achieve. I lowered my head, ashamed and terrified, barely able to speak.

- You, sir.

He lifted my chin and brushed my red hair aside.

- Louder, I didn't hear you.

- I choose you, sir.