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Anything Goes
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Straight Female / 45
My Shameful Secret
I have no idea if this is the right forum for this, but I can’t find anything similar. There’s something that's bugged me for decades that I’ve not told anybody, not even my husband of thirty years. The reason I’m doing it now is I’ve just been to a funeral of a guy I used to work for in my teens as a shop-girl. Looking back on the experiences, it was out of order, and I suppose I should have reported him; however, he had me ‘over a barrel,’ as we say.
I was fourteen when I took the Saturday job, initially just stacking shelves, unloading stock, and making brews for the owner. Stan seemed a nice man, and I came from quite a poor family, so the five pounds he paid me for the day was much needed. My parents did their best, but as I got into my teens I wanted nicer clothes, and make-up and to be able to go out for a Pizza or Hamburger with my friends; the five pounds a week made all the difference.
After a few months, Stan trusted me on the till. I loved it and felt very grown-up; however, that’s where, I’m sorry to say, temptation got the better of me, and I started stealing from the till. Not much to begin with, just the odd 10p, but he has got away with it. I got greedy, and some Saturdays I was stealing a couple of quid.
I can’t remember how long I’d been stealing; however, one day, Stan called me into his office at the end of the day and confronted me with a video of me putting money in my pocket rather than the till. There had been some raids on local shops, plus shoplifting, and unknown to me, he’d installed cameras. To be honest, I must have been thick not to have seen the bloody things, but I was fourteen with a head full of Duran Duran and Human League. I was ashamed and cried. Stan asked why I had stolen from him, and I told him about clothes makeup and pizza; he said he would have to tell my parents and report the incident to the police. I was terrified as my parents were leaders in the local church, and this would hurt them, plus the police!!! I did think of committing suicide rather than facing both my parents and the police. I was in a real state.
Stan then consoles me with a hug and, naive idiot that I was back then, said I would do anything if he didn’t tell them; I was thinking of working for free, doing extra days after school but not being paid, to pay the stealing debt off. Stan changed and said if I showed him my breasts, he would think about it. I was stunned, but in desperation, I raised my T-Shirt and showed him my bra and tits. I'm cursed with large breasts, first to develop them and first to notice boys and men talking to my chest rather than me. Stan then tells me to lift my bra, I remember not wanting to, but I did. My self-confidence wasn’t great in those days, mainly due to one of my boobs being slightly larger than the other. Stan said I was beautiful, and they were the best tits he had ever seen. I was still very distressed, but I was flattered that a real man liked my odd boobs. He didn’t ask to touch them. He just did. I was both frightened, and part of me, I’m ashamed to say, enjoyed it. Stan said he would keep the video, but as long as I showed him my tits, he wouldn’t tell; he also gave me ten pounds wages for the day, athis is how it started.
Every Saturday after the shop closed, I would go in the back to be paid, Stan gave me ten pounds, and I would let him feel me up. Tits were his favourite, but eventually, he had his hands all over me. He was the first to touch my pussy, push a finger into my vagina, suck on my breasts and have oral sex with me. I would sometimes be practically naked. I did have orgasms, my first ever. The more he paid me, the further I let him go. Sometimes even before closing time, he would have his hands in my knickers. My parents once called into the shop as Stan had his fingers up my pussy. My parents didn’t see, but he told them I was a credit to them and thanked them with a handshake for letting me work for him; he used the same hand that moments before had been in my knickers. Sometimes he would take my knickers off and keep them; we sold packets of three pairs of knickers, and he would give me a packet. He would make me strip in front of him in some sessions as he drank his brew. He went through a spell of being fascinated with my bum and even licked my bum hole. I once went in after school to get some stuff for my mum; I was in my school uniform. Stan closed the shop and made me strip in front of him; that was the first time I saw his cock. He touched himself as I stripped and then rubbed himself through my pussy lips until he had an orgasm. He gave me clean knickers before I left.
He’s dead now; I'm finally free of him four decades later.
I was fourteen when I took the Saturday job, initially just stacking shelves, unloading stock, and making brews for the owner. Stan seemed a nice man, and I came from quite a poor family, so the five pounds he paid me for the day was much needed. My parents did their best, but as I got into my teens I wanted nicer clothes, and make-up and to be able to go out for a Pizza or Hamburger with my friends; the five pounds a week made all the difference.
After a few months, Stan trusted me on the till. I loved it and felt very grown-up; however, that’s where, I’m sorry to say, temptation got the better of me, and I started stealing from the till. Not much to begin with, just the odd 10p, but he has got away with it. I got greedy, and some Saturdays I was stealing a couple of quid.
I can’t remember how long I’d been stealing; however, one day, Stan called me into his office at the end of the day and confronted me with a video of me putting money in my pocket rather than the till. There had been some raids on local shops, plus shoplifting, and unknown to me, he’d installed cameras. To be honest, I must have been thick not to have seen the bloody things, but I was fourteen with a head full of Duran Duran and Human League. I was ashamed and cried. Stan asked why I had stolen from him, and I told him about clothes makeup and pizza; he said he would have to tell my parents and report the incident to the police. I was terrified as my parents were leaders in the local church, and this would hurt them, plus the police!!! I did think of committing suicide rather than facing both my parents and the police. I was in a real state.
Stan then consoles me with a hug and, naive idiot that I was back then, said I would do anything if he didn’t tell them; I was thinking of working for free, doing extra days after school but not being paid, to pay the stealing debt off. Stan changed and said if I showed him my breasts, he would think about it. I was stunned, but in desperation, I raised my T-Shirt and showed him my bra and tits. I'm cursed with large breasts, first to develop them and first to notice boys and men talking to my chest rather than me. Stan then tells me to lift my bra, I remember not wanting to, but I did. My self-confidence wasn’t great in those days, mainly due to one of my boobs being slightly larger than the other. Stan said I was beautiful, and they were the best tits he had ever seen. I was still very distressed, but I was flattered that a real man liked my odd boobs. He didn’t ask to touch them. He just did. I was both frightened, and part of me, I’m ashamed to say, enjoyed it. Stan said he would keep the video, but as long as I showed him my tits, he wouldn’t tell; he also gave me ten pounds wages for the day, athis is how it started.
Every Saturday after the shop closed, I would go in the back to be paid, Stan gave me ten pounds, and I would let him feel me up. Tits were his favourite, but eventually, he had his hands all over me. He was the first to touch my pussy, push a finger into my vagina, suck on my breasts and have oral sex with me. I would sometimes be practically naked. I did have orgasms, my first ever. The more he paid me, the further I let him go. Sometimes even before closing time, he would have his hands in my knickers. My parents once called into the shop as Stan had his fingers up my pussy. My parents didn’t see, but he told them I was a credit to them and thanked them with a handshake for letting me work for him; he used the same hand that moments before had been in my knickers. Sometimes he would take my knickers off and keep them; we sold packets of three pairs of knickers, and he would give me a packet. He would make me strip in front of him in some sessions as he drank his brew. He went through a spell of being fascinated with my bum and even licked my bum hole. I once went in after school to get some stuff for my mum; I was in my school uniform. Stan closed the shop and made me strip in front of him; that was the first time I saw his cock. He touched himself as I stripped and then rubbed himself through my pussy lips until he had an orgasm. He gave me clean knickers before I left.
He’s dead now; I'm finally free of him four decades later.
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