[MichiganHeadmaster]

This was originally posted on the former World Spanking Forum. I've retrieved it for posting here. I'll post Part II shortly. Hope you enjoy it.


The Shoplifter and the Attorney, Part I

The girl stood in line at the 7-Eleven that was next to a small office building near her home, picking up milk and a few lottery tickets. She needed to hit it big this week to cover her legal costs from her indiscretion last week. It was all so stupid, but she had to face up to what she did.

A week earlier, the girl had been at the local Mega-Mart, buying some clothes for her kids - they grow so fast! It was getting harder and harder to make her paycheck stretch sometimes, but she was managing. Then she saw it - her favorite cologne. Even at the store's discount price, it was still just too much. She sprayed some on, and was in heaven. The boxes were so tiny too. It occurred to her - how easy it would be to pocket one, check out, and claim it was all a mistake if she got caught.

The girl had thought better of it, and moved away. Then, she stole a couple sideways glances - all the checkout clerks were busy with demanding customers. Without thinking about it any more, the girl picked up one of the boxes and moved back toward children's clothing where she left her full shopping cart - and casually slipped the box in her coat pocket.

Terrified, the girl proceeded with more shopping, looking for anyone following her. Nothing. She got the courage to check out, paid the bill – geez, there goes another $100.00 – and tried nonchalantly to exit the store.

Then she heard it. “Ma’am,” the heavy voice said sternly. “I need for you to come back inside.”

The girl thought her whole world had ended. Her plan to act like it was an accident came apart. Fear and shame took over, and tears rolled down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. That was all the security guard needed to hear.

A trip to the office (reminiscent of going to see the principal back in high school), a report, an interview by a policewoman, handcuffs, back seat of a patrol car, a trip to the precinct, mug shot, fingerprints by a rather large, well-built male officer (she wondered why she was noticing stuff like this). She was terrified about the consequences of her action, and wanted so much to undo the last hour of her life. But still she started to get lost into the moment. Authority figure, holding her hand through 10 fingerprints and 2 palmprints, taken slowly and methodically, giving commands in a gentle but unmistakably firm voice.

The dark blue uniform, the leather (she noticed it smelled good), the large holster, empty of a gun while processing a prisoner. It was all strangely comforting. Damn, was it also arousing? No fucking way! Couldn’t be. Could it?

More interviews, a written statement (she admitted the whole thing – the girl was a lousy liar). Waiver of rights, more tears, questions (“What’s going to happen?” she asked in a little girl voice). Finally, the female police officer took over again. The girl noticed the officer was quite pretty. The uniform did nothing for her but hide what was probably a knockout figure. Still, something about her in a uniform made her wonder, what if ….. “come on, snap out of it! I’m being arrested here!” More tears.

The female officer, now in a reassuring voice, but still as firm as the male officer’s, told the girl that she would be free to go, but would have to appear in court in 14 days. First offense, probably no jail time, but no guarantees either. Even simple shoplifting was up to 90 days in the local jail. More tears.

The policewoman drove the girl back to the store, took her to her car where the other items she bought had been placed, and gave her back an envelope with her keys and other personal effects that had been taken at the precinct. The girl still noticed that the officer was quite pretty, and so authoritative. It all seemed so bizarre. Was the girl getting wet? My God, she was!

Getting in her car, the girl could feel the moisture in her crotch. She felt it – she was soaked. Then she noticed the smell. In her fright, she had peed herself.

Oh, God, did anyone notice? They had to! They were probably too polite to say anything. The girl just wanted to crawl into a hole.

But she had to get home – the kids would be home from school in an hour. She had to get back to normal, for the time being.

Now, a week later, standing in line getting her lottery tickets, the girl noticed a business card on the counter: Attorney – Family Matters, Wills, Injuries. The address on the card was at the office building right next door to the 7-Eleven. She used to notice the sign outside every day. Well, she needed a lawyer now.

The scratch-off tickets were not winners. Another $5 wasted. Maybe the weekly drawing will pay out.

The girl walked past the front door to the office building. She stopped. No money. She went inside anyway. She walked down a long hallway and found the sign, “Attorney at Law.” She tried the door - it opened. No one was in the reception area – it was 5:40 pm, apparently after normal business hours. The girl heard a voice. “Please, come in.” More fear, desperately holding back tears.

“What can I do for you?” the gentleman in the room asked. The girl struggled for words. “I have a court date next week. I did something stupid. I’m really scared.” Tears flowing.

They two have a long talk and the girl told her story. The attorney listened. He notices girl is cute. Nice ass. Remorseful. He liked that. She’s bad, but not too bad. Not like the dopers and gang-bangers he used to put away a few years ago when he was a cop. Just – well, just bad enough to need to be taught a lesson.

He explained that he rarely took criminal cases, though he might make an exception now. But he disapproved of what she did and she needed to pay a price.

More tears. The girl explained her finances. “I can’t go to jail, not with my kids!” Still more tears. “I’ll do anything, please help me.” The girl meant it.

The attorney reassured her. He would work out a first-offender plea. A fine, no jail. She could work out a payment plan.

But, there was a catch. She had to learn her lesson well. He would be the one to teach her. He asked her the age-old question: “What should happen to bad girls?”

She could see his bulge. She moved closer. “Should I lock the door, Sir?”

“No, I have other plans. I want you to submit to corrective action that will make you think twice about breaking the law again. Will you do so?” She was nervous but aroused. She looked around. Lots of authority emblems. Diploma, gavel, badge mounted on plaque, even a law school fraternity paddle. The fact that he had been a cop scared her and reassured her at the same time.

She agreed to accept his corrective action.

He gave her instructions. At 11 am the next day, while the kids were at school, she was to be at home. He would meet her there. She was to wear a plaid skirt, panties, white socks, blouse and bra. Yes, like a schoolgirl. He would tell her what to do then.

To be continued