The Embezzler

“Honey? Is this item one of yours?” asked my S.O. She is a fanatic about going through the credit card statements, looking for possible fraud. I knew what she was pointing at. A few weeks back, I had ordered an extravagantly expensive set of silicone breasts for my female persona. That the supplier was “Tranny Boutique” was another giveaway.

“Gee,” I said slowly, “That might be a case of—embezzlement. Maybe you had better check with our comptroller, Cynthia,” I replied. “I'll send her to you.”

So saying, I slipped off upstairs. There I stripped off my male clothes, and put on a pair of satin panties and a bra containing my new tits. I selected a powder-blue skirted suit and beige high heels, put on my wig, jewelry and a touch of makeup, and emerged as Cynthia, the somewhat incompetent financial officer of our family corporation.

“There you are! What is the meaning of this!” my wife said when I entered her office.

I bent my blonde head over her desk, and looked at the item in question. “Well, that might be a seasonal adjustment to the long term items that were diverted to the…”

“Cut the bull! I know you embezzled these funds!”

The jig was up. “Yes, ma’am, “ I confessed. “I wanted to get a boob job. Like them?” I waved my chest around proudly.

“Hmmn, nice--Never mind—you’ll have to be punished!”

I had already brought out a fancy restraint I had made for myself. I got it and handed it to her. Leather straps encircled my legs below my knees and my ankles. A stirrup ran under the arches of my heels and connected the two together. My wrists were secured to cuffs attached to the strap around my knees. Buckled into it, I would be held in a bent-over position.

Between the two of us, we managed to get me bound by this contraption. I noticed that it made my new boobs stick out even more. My S.O. noticed too.

“Let’s see those,” she said, unbuttoning my suit jacket and reaching in. I moaned a little as she cupped and caressed my new breasts. They did feel authentic. Then she inserted my thick leather gag through my mouth. I stood, the leather straps holding me bent over, my tight skirt snug over my ass.

With a malicious grin and a loud “Crack!”, my S.O. applied a paddle to my rear. I flinched. The gag smothered my scream, and I was unable to protect myself with my wrists buckled down by my knees. Balanced precariously on my strapped-together high heels, I fought for balance as she whacked my rear repeatedly with the wooden paddle. My new tits bounced prettily with each blow.

Finally she was done, but my punishment wasn’t. She released my wrists, only to re-bind my hands behind my back. Then I had to lie on the floor in my pretty suit, still bound and gagged. I squirmed around within the tight straps, enjoying the sensation of tight leather, until she came back.

“Have you learned your lesson?” she demanded.

I nodded.

“You won’t embezzle any more funds?”

I shook my head, smirking around my gag.

“Well, if you do, you’ll get the same treatment!”

I hoped so.

 

12.01.12