The Car Thief

Paul Smith was a master at car jacking,he could break into any vehicle discreetly without smashing the windows or setting off the car alarms. He had a special tool, one that looked similar to that of a long, metal wire that crept under the side windows and unlocked the vehicle doors. Then he would climb inside into the driver's seat, quietly close the door and hot wire the vehicle without detection. Then ignite it into drive, fleeing slowly away from the scene as not to make too much noise or garner attention. Paul could do this in his sleep and often worked illegally as a professional thief, one that could successfully steal even the most highly secured cars in the market. He got paid thousands of Great British pounds doing just that. Working for hundreds of shady criminals who wanted the top cars, but couldn't afford them, so hiring Paul was only slightly cheaper, yet worthwhile. The young man had built a reputation as well as an incredible wealth. Paul lived in a mansion within the poshest area of Chelsea, he had the life of a rockstar or popstar, a trophy wife and several super sports cars of his very own. He got to a point where working was pointless, yet he still stole cars for big paydays anyway. Call it greed, but many believed he kept doing it because of the thrill! There was just something so incredibly satisfying and daring about stealing such high end machinery. He couldn't resist, not even if he had all the money in the world, he couldn't stop himself. Not even video games where you rob banks and vehicles could satisfy his itch. Pressing a button to instantly break into any vehicle wasn't a challenge, having virtual police chase him in a video game wasn't thrilling enough for him anyway and the huge pay he got after each job in real life, it fueled his ego more than anything on earth. He'd fuck his wife hard after a good job, something she never complained about despite her protests for him to stop risking their life together. She'd forget about all the danger he put himself (and by extension her) in, when he inserted his dominance inside of her. She'd scream and moan as he'd completely overwhelm her in the bedroom, his cock like ecstasy inside and out. Then the orgasms would end, she'd fall asleep and have nightmares about Paul getting caught by the police, he was a handsome young man too, she worried he'd get abused in prison. That he'd drop the soap, even though that was more likely to happen in an American jail, she'd still dream about him in such terrible circumstances. Every morning she'd beg him to stop, but he'd just kiss her and tease.

"Don't worry, Cindy..." He'd stroke her hair, while she pushed him away.

"You're going to get caught eventually!" She'd argue, it didn't matter how good the sex was after a good job, she didn't want to see Paul in handcuffs!

"I've never alerted the police." He'd reassure her with a cute kiss upon her forehead, "I'm a professional baby, I'll take you out this weekend, ok?"

"I don't care about fancy meals, Paul!"

However, Paul would always ignore her. The cycle would continue, Cindy would worry and panic buy to enjoy her wealth while she still had it.

Cindy bought a lot of useless tat because of this fear, at least twenty designer handbags, most of which she never used, all of which costing thousands upon thousands of pounds. Shd had a hundred different dresses, all made of the finest silk, sparkling like glitter. Cindy had even more shoes, high heels, pumps, boots and sandals, a whole room dedicated to them. She'd buy the latest, high end phone every year. Cindy got the biggest TV imaginable and got Paul to set it up in the living room. She had all the top trending books, read them cover to cover, a massive library just for herself with every genre of romance, from spicy erotica to dreamy fantasy. Cindy even played video games, owning a super computer and all the latest consoles. She visited the hairdressers every Sunday, always looking like a supermodel with the best make up and perfume. She had everything, every streaming service you could imagine, so she could watch any movie or show that ever existed. There were seven different cars just for her, different coloured convertibles from pink to yellow and a couple of formal black and silver cars if she didn't want to draw attention. The girl had it all, literally anything you could imagine, she had the money to buy. Yet, it wasn't entirely hers, it was Paul's Money she was spending recklessly, just to enjoy the high life before it all came crashing down. Because despite her dream life, it was haunted by the nightmare of Paul's obsession with crime. She could barely sleep at night because it, becoming an alcoholic, drinking the best wines ever produced. Anything to keep her mind off this imaginery egg timer, that cursed her every waking moment with the thought of police knocking at her door. It gave her unimaginable stress. Cindy would've happily traded in all of her expensive items for peace of mind. Marrying a crime addict like Paul was a huge mistake, unfortunately she was wined and dined by his incredibly good looks and impossible wealth. She hated herself for it! There had to be a hundred good, honest men she turned down to live in Paul's mansion. Now she felt trapped, despite living like a princess. It was a strange hell she found herself in. Yet, it wasn't the police that Cindy had to worry about.

Paul had made a lot of enemies over the many, many years of his life of crime. He didn't even realise it, blissfully unaware of the crime lords he fucked over by stealing cars randomly for anyone who'd pay him. What he hadn't come to learn, is that by not siding with a certain gang, that he'd have no one backing him up in the criminal underground of London. He became enemy number one due to his reckless behaviour and so was set up. The job sounded simple enough, there was a blue sports car, with a white stripe down the middle of it, parked near London's china town in an empty parking lot. His mission was to break into the vehicle discreetly, then drive it to a hidden warehouse nobody would suspect. The details didn't seem unusual, obviously a job such as this always required stealth. So he took a taxi to China town and began searching for the car he was supposed to steal, his employer gave him a photograph of the vehicle so he knew exactly what to look for. There was one crucial requirement that he had to follow, the vehicle must be stolen at 2AM. He figured that was just to avoid daytime attention, most jobs asked him to steal late at night and he'd do so anyway because that's when things were always most quiet. So, he approached the targeted car like normal and used his special gadget to break into the thing, everything seemed to be going to plan, but then as he tried to hotwire the vehicle, he realised the ignition had been stripped out entirely. He didn't put two and two together right away, eventually he realised with the utmost terror, that this whole job had been a massive set up! Then, just to confirm his greatest fear, a whole gang of what looked like Triads or Yakuza came marching towards his vehicle, some of them carrying machetes! Paul fled the vehicle and tried to punch one of the gangsters, as he raced past them (they had cornered him into a squared off parking lot). This attempt failed however, as the Chinese man dodged his punch like a ninja, then uppercut Paul, sending him flying onto his back. Paul jumped up and kicked one other gangster, he actually hit the criminal this time, then spun to escape, only for a machete to stab his lower back, he fell with a scream of agony, then his mouth was quickly covered by a dirty hand. Paul but down on the gangster's fingers, but it was no use, as the Chinese screamed at him in a language he couldn't understand; they beat him to death with their weapons and fists. His last moments were of pure terror and agony. Then they dragged his body away from the scene, some even cleaned away his blood that stained the pavement where Paul had died. His body was never seen again, nobody except the gangsters would ever know of his death.

Cindy lived on however, Paul was presumed dead despite never being found. It was obvious he always had his enemies. She held on to a small hope that he was simply missing, or that he had abandoned her for whatever reason. Then a whole year past and still, nobody knew what became of Paul Smith. She continued to live in that mansion, they eventually had a funeral for him, which she and many others attended. After this, Cindy inherited all the wealth he had collected for herself. Of course Cindy missed her husband and in time came to realise that he must definitely be dead, it was a strange thing because it also meant she was finally free. That fear she always had, it died out. She remarried in time, this time with a much younger man who was cute and ambitious. Although, nobody could satisfy her just as well as Paul could after a thrilling car theft. I suppose she did miss the thrill of it after all.