I was always a good kid growing up. Studied hard, got good grades, was generally nice to people. Then, in my late teens, I sort of rebelled. I was a senior in high school, and I wasn’t really looking to get into trouble, per se, I was just acting out, being edgy, and trying to get away with things. My young brain didn’t really think things through, though, so – in my mind – everything I did seemed like it was no big deal with no real consequences.

One day I was in the local mall, and as I was wandering around the jewelry section of a major store, I decided I would try to steal some jewelry that my young brain was convinced I couldn’t live without. Spotting a silver bracelet I liked, I snuck it down the front of my mini skirt and into my panties, then walked casually toward the front of the store, thinking I had pulled it off. As I approached the door, I was almost out of the store when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

It was a man in slacks and a nice dress shirt, who grabbed my arm and said, “I’m the store manager, young lady, you’ll have to come with me.”

My heart jump into my throat, and I stammered some banal response, but going through my head was how much trouble I had just gotten myself into. By the time we got to his office at the back of the store, I was crying and stammering about how I didn’t mean it and can’t I just give it back.

Once we were in his office, he sat me on a chair in front of his desk, and picked up the phone.

He said, “Let’s start by calling the cops, then we’ll give your parents a call and let them know you’ll be down at the police station getting booked for shoplifting.”

“NO! WAIT!” I cried. “Do we have to do that?”

He said, “That bracelet you stole is worth $600, that’s grand larceny. I’m afraid that can’t be overlooked.”

“But I’ll give it back!” I said.

He laughed and said, “I know you will…..that doesn’t change anything.” He looked me over for a few minutes, then came around the desk so that he was standing behind me, and said, “Let’s start by getting that bracelet from your hiding place.”

I started to reach into my skirt to get it, but he stopped me and said, “No, I’ll get it.”

When he said that, I sort of saw where this was going. I was a fairly attractive girl, with rather big breasts for my age… my tits were already 35D’s, with big areolas, and nipples that made noticeable bumps in my tops, even when I wore a bra….which I wasn’t wearing that day.