The Shoplifter

One of the floor watchers had apprehended the youth leaving the store with a package of batteries that he had not paid for. I was interrogating the lad in an effort to learn his identity and to determine if he was a first-time loner or part of an organized ring that had been hitting many of the stores in the mall, and I was getting nowhere with the kid.

"Fuck off, Dickless Tracy," and similar suggestions were all I could get out of him. He was either a lot older than he looked, or very well read, as he had a vocabulary not normally found in a teenager.

Normally I try to scare the shit out of the first-timers, and I turn the repeaters over to the police after I scare the shit out of them. This kid wasn't going to break without some severe pressure, so I told Tony and Roy to take him into the employee lounge and strip search him.

"You can't do that. I have rights and I want a lawyer." He finally said something other than a swearword.

"I can do anything I want to, junior. You agreed, by entering the mall, to obey the rules, and it states right by each door that persons suspected of shoplifting will be detained and searched before being turned over to the police. The cops have to let you see a lawyer, but I don't."

Tony and Roy helped me escort the kid into the lounge, where I told him to strip. He was reluctant to comply, so we told him that we would cut his clothes off of him and that he could go to jail naked. This brought a slight improvement in his attitude, and he slowly stripped down to his underwear.

"All the way to the skin." I commanded. He blushed, turned away from us, and shed his boxers. He may have been a big man in the locker room with kids his own age, but he was decidedly embarrassed to have to display his assets to real men.

I left him standing naked by the pool table and went through his pockets and wallet, handing each item to Roy for documentation.

"John C. Brown." Roy stated, reading the school ID card. "Date of birth, May 7, 1989. Eigth grade, Wison Elementary, lives at 1802 Union. Wallet contains fourteen dollars, a student body card, and one condom, ultra-sensitive, lubricated. This young man must be a real sex-you-al-ly active stud." Roy said in his monotone voice before placing each item on the pool table.

"Doesn't look to me like he has enough to be active with." Tony commented, after ordering the scarlet-faced kid to turn and face us, with his hand behind him. I don't see a lot of naked youths, as we only use this tactic a couple of times a year, but Tony was right. The kid's balls were tucked up tight and were nearly concealed by his sparse pubic hair, and his dick was shriveled in embarrassment or in response to the coolness of the room.

I decided that the kid wasn't part of a gang, and that scaring him was enough to keep him from becoming a repeater, so I entered his name and social security number into the computer for a background check, then asked him if he liked to play pool. He looked at me knd of funny like but didn't say anything as I spread a couple of towels out on the center of the pool table. Tony and Roy quickly grabbed him and shackled his hands and feet to the corner pockets of the table with plastic riot handcuffs.

The towels were necessary because what happens next literally scares the shit out of most shoplifters. I took a cue stick from the rack and placed the white ball between his ankles before drawing a bead on his crotch. He started bucking and screaming even before I started my backstroke. We were alone in the mall by then, as it was long after closing time, so no one could hear his cries for help. I brought my arm forward with a quick snap and whiffed the ball with the cue stick, causing it to spin harmlessly to the side, just brushing his thigh before stopping. Tony and Roy stood laughing at the end of the table , while the kid, sobbing with shame, tried to raise himself away from the piss-soaked towels beneath him.

I should have stopped right there and turned him loose, but I decided to give him another lesson that he could take back to school, so I looped a piece of stout cord through the hole in the bottom of the overhead pool table light and formed a slip knot in its' end. I placed this loop over my wrist and gently massaged the boy's nuts down away from his body before slipping the loop over them and tightening up the knot. Tony then pulled the cord tight, so that the kid was up on his heels and elbows, and then tied it to the table. Roy unrolled the condom over the butt end of the cue stick and slid it between the cheeks of the boy's ass, and then started to push. Penetration was impossible from that angle, but the boy's discomfort with the violation was obvious.

I had practised my next move often, so the kid wasn't really in danger as I picked up two bricks and approached the table with my arms spread wide. I knew that I could neatly severe the cord with the sharp edges of the bricks a few inched above his balls, but I hadn't counted on him thrusting his hips upward in desparation at the last instant and thus dooming his manhood, which squirted from between the bricks like a cherry pit from a kid's fingers before landing on the dirty floor by my feet.

We cleaned the shit, piss, and blood up, dumped the kid off near a hospital, and rounded up some witnesses to swear that he left the mall before closing and in good condition. We still watch our backs, as we know that he will try to get even. The shoplifting rate at the mall has dropped to near zero.