It started out in the usual way, with Leslie going downstairs to the corporate gym to exercise, just like she did nearly every day. For 30 minutes the petite blonde climbed up the stair climber. At 29, she was still proud of her body and she took care of it so that she would remain so. She stood around 5' 5" and weighed in around 101 pounds.
After exercising, she took a shower, and that's where things started to go wrong. Her first surprise was when she opened her locker and her clothes were gone. Even her towel was missing.
They weren't really gone, but the clothes and towel that were in there weren't hers. Worse, her shorts and shirt that she had exercised in and taken off before showering were missing.
"Very funny," she said. "Now bring them back. Hello, I want my clothes..." Her voice echoed in the tile locker room. There was no one there. Fuck!
She checked the locker number. It was hers alright. She tested the other lockers - just to be sure. They were either locked or empty. Other than waiting around naked save a small hand towel, there was no other option. She took the clothes out of the locker. They weren't anything she would wear that was certain. A skimpy plaid mini-skirt. A small sweater that came with a built in white collar, high heel shoes, and lastly a small bra. One glaring ommission, there were no underwear.
There was nothing else she could do, so she dried using the small towel, then tried the clothes on. Surprisingly, everything fit. Granted the skirt was about 5 inches shorter than anything in her closet. The sweater was also tighter than she liked. Of the next 3 articles, she didn't know which was worse. The shoes, which made her lean legs look even sexier, but were more suitable for a Sex in the City episode than an office. Or the lack of panties with the skirt that was too short for anyone's good. But probably the thing that made her feel the most insecure, was the bra. She would only have to worry about exposing herself while sitting down or going up stairs, whereas the bra would expose her in another degree no matter what she did. While it served its most basic purpose and provided support. It lacked her usual requirement. Padding. In the tight fitting garment, she looked positively tiny. Worse, if anyone she knew spotted her, they would see that she was smaller by a couple of cup sizes. A big difference. Big enough to notice.
She tried it with no bra to see if that was better. But the sweater showed everything. It was a no go. Her nipples were clearly seen through the fabric of the sweater. Finally, she put the bra back on and decided to just go - just run up quickly to her desk, get her keys, go home and change into something presentable.
She made sure to take the elevator, lest she expose herself on the stairs. Besides - she didn't want to attempt 4 flights of stairs in 3 inch heels. Her hopes of dashing to her desk unseen met with a large problem, there was a woman at her desk. It was Carolyn - the head of HR. Shit!
"I need to see you in my office," Carolyn said. "Now."
Leslie picked up her purse from her desk and followed Carolyn to her office. She shut the door behind her and had Leslie take a seat.
Carolyn, an auburn haired woman of about 40, wore a professional blue pin-striped pant suit. She placed a piece of paper on the desk, turned it around and slid it over to the young brunette at the other side of the table.
"What do you make of that, Leslie?" she asked.
When Leslie saw the header she knew she was in trouble. She broke out in a sweat. With a trembling voice she answered. "I don't know ma'am."
"You don't know?" Carolyn said. "You don't find it odd that the college you said you graduated from, only has a record of you through three semesters?"
"Yes, ma'am, it is odd but..." At one time Leslie had nightmares once a week of this very occurrence. She was prepared for it when she was first hired. She had nothing to lose when she first changed her resume and added the part about graduation and several other lies. But, now, she had quite a bit to lose. She decided to lie. "Maybe there was some sort of problem - it has been several years."
"Yes, it has been several years," Carolyn said, and tone of her reply, clearly not buying it. "And what do you make of this?"
Leslie glanced at this new piece of paper. There were several transactions. Each transaction totaled a few thousand dollars. Then she looked at the next piece of evidence. A bank account with her name on it, with several similar transactions. Each corporate credit matched a debit to her account. Yet, it was an account she had never seen!
"I've - I've never seen that account before."
"Leslie," Carolyn said. "I'm sure you can guess how much credibility you have at the moment. What is the saying? Once a liar, always a thief."
"I'm not lying," "I'm telling the truth. I mean. Maybe I did pad my resume. But I swear I never stole anything."
"Then you won't mind if I do a search of your possessions to see for myself?"
"No ma'am."
Carolyn took the younger woman's purse and turned it upside down, spilling the contents out on the desk. There amongst her possessions were several items that caught her attention. Two strange looking cigarettes and a pink vibrator.
"They aren't mine!" Leslie exclaimed. She had been set up. "I've never seen them before. Look, someone stole my clothes while I was taking a shower at the fitness center, they must have planted..."
"Sure...sure..." Carolyn said. She took her pencil and rolled the pink vibrator to and fro. "Do you know how believable that sounds. What is up with you Leslie? The lying. The stealing. Drugs. Perversions. And just look at the way you are dressed."
It became too much for Leslie. Her lip trembled and then the tears started flowing. This was awful. The worst thing that had ever happened. If only she could explain.
"I know this looks bad," she said between sobs.
"It looks very bad," said Carolyn. "I wonder how you will explain this to the police." She knew very well how it looked. Very incriminating. Once she had discovered the resume, she waited patiently, coming up with a plan set the younger woman up, and only today set it into motion.
Leslie had no idea how she would even attempt explaining this to the police. Who would believe this impossible turn of events. And it was even more difficult to think of an explanation while Carolyn kept moving the vibrator back and forth with her pencil.
"You know Leslie, perhaps we can work this out between ourselves," she suggested as she rolled the vibrator toward the younger woman.
Leslie let out a hopeful sigh, but then realized what the older woman was suggesting. An icey tendril snaked through her insides. Staring at the vibrator, her white knuckled hands clenched tightly in her lap.
"Take it," Carolyn ordered.
She didn't want to. Oh how she didn't. But Leslie picked it up with trembling fingers, handling it as if it would bite her.
"Turn it on."
Leslie fingered the on switch and it took off moving. Dear Lord, she had never seen such a thing. It swiveled. It danced. It vibrated with different speeds. Part of it rotated. It was all knobs and ridges and bumps. Even in her hands it felt perverse - lewd.
"Take off your panties."
Leslie shifted her her seat as she remembered. Her cheeks colored. Why her? Why today of all days. If only she could go back in time.
"Someone stole....them," she said. It sounded so ridiculous.
"I'm sure," Carolyn sneered. "Little slut."
Leslie hesitated. She surely couldn't do this. It wasn't possible. There had to be another answer.
Carolyn picked up the phone. "What was that number, oh yes, the police - 555-4567" she pecked at the keys with her pencil.
"You can't do this," Leslie pleaded.
