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Old 06-10-2017, 01:00 PM
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Billy Wizz Billy Wizz is offline
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A Factory Girl's Humiliation - Alex Birch

I have always loved the stories of Alex Birch who sadly dies a few years ago. His blog which contained many of his stories has gone but some still survive at ASSTR.ORG.

http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Alex_Birch/

A FACTORY GIRL'S HUMILIATION by Alex Birch

(NC, caning, sex)

Introduction This is another in my occasional 'historical interview' series where, in this one, I've hoped to capture the atmosphere of the paternalistic northern English small factory in the 1930's where employees had no union recognition and young girls were very much vulnerable to the whims of the manager. Hope you enjoy my change of gender for this one (g)
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A couple of years before the war, I was just seventeen and living with my widowed mother in a back to back house, slum I suppose you'd call it, in Barnsley not far from the estate where I live now. We had hardly two halfpennies to rub together and my job as a seamstress at the local clothing factory was vital to our salvation. I was a happy go lucky girl in those days with an eyefor the lads but absolutely no experience of boys at all, though they all gave me the wink when I cycled into work. I suppose I was quite pretty then.

The Company was owned by Mr George Duckworth who was a typical small family firm boss of his day. He'd not pay over the odds but he was fair enough in his fashion but quite awesome to most of the twenty girls who worked there. He was hardly seen for most of the day but, when he occasionally emerged from his office, you could hear a pin drop on that factory floor. Mr Duckworth had a son, Michael, or as we were officially supposed to refer to him 'Mr Duckworth Junior' who worked at the factory as a buyer of materials. Michael was good looking, always ready with a wink and a smile for the girls though we all knew he was way above our social class. I always thought of him as a handsome young man, exciting and good looking. I used to dream about him sometimes wishing he would make love to me. God, how soon did that dream turn into a sour, dreadful reality, for I was soon to find out how cruel he could be.

One day, I was very excited, having been called into Mr Duckworth Snrs office and told that my work was so good that he was to send me on a supervisors course, costs met by the Company. I was the first girl ever to be so honoured at Duckworths and I could hardly contain my delight. Young Michael even came out of his office wreathed in smiles, held me round the waist and gave me a chaste peck on the cheek. At that point I would willingly have taken more than a peck on the cheek for I longed for his caresses and could feel myself blushing vividly. I think he must have known how much I fancied him and thats what gave him the confidence to humiliate me in such a dreadful way as I will shortly explain.

Two days later, George Duckworth announced that he was going away on business for two weeks and that Michael would be in charge, news met with delight by most of us girls. We soon found out, however, what a change responsibility brings, for the very next day Michael announced that he was to be known as Mr Duckworth while in charge,that familiarity with the staff would have to cease and we would all have to knuckle down to work. We all absorbed this as best we could but after all the familiarity and joking we'd enjoyed, I for one couldn't seem to accept it. It was to cost me very painfully indeed!

It happened two days after Michael had been put in charge and I went for my usual lunch. We were permitted half an hour but I was so starry eyed with my impending course and so blase aboutMichael's temporary command that I took advantage, met some relatives in town and was twenty minutes late back. I breezed in, full of smiles, only to see Michael's door fly open, his angry voice demanding my presence in his office immediately.

I walked up the stairs from the factory floor to his office with my stomach churning expecting him just to shout at me. Oh Lord if only I'd known what would happen! He was waiting for me with an angry expression, then pushed me into his office and locked the door. I knew all the other girls had stopped work and were looking up. I felt so embarrassed because the walls were paper thin and everything could be heard outside. I began to apologise but he cut me short saying I was taking advantage of his father's absence and how he would show me he was not to be trifled with. Michael then said he had taken steps to cancel my supervisor's secondment because of irresponsibility and he might even ask his father to sack me. I was paralysed with shock and horror at what I was hearing and I remember bursting into tears, pleading wit Michael not to do any of that, that I was so sorry and I'd do anything to make up for my stupidity. That was the first time he smiled that afternoon, a grim, cruel smile I'll remember all my life when he said if I wanted to stay in a job I would have to accept his punishment! I just agreed, almost hysterically, not knowing or caring what it was as long as I kept my job.

Then Michael reached down to the side of his desk and picked up a long, thick rattan cane and swished it in front of my terrified eyes. He told me the only effective punishment for silly girls was a good thrashing and that mine was overdue. I began to cry again in shame and terror when he ordered me to pull up my dress and petticoat and bend low over his desk. I pulled up my clothes and bent over his desk to grip the far side, my bottom covered only by my dowdy grey cotton knickers. I recall shivering as if the room was freezing but I was just humiliated by this exposure of my underwear with my bottom thrust out in this way. I closed my eyes, tears rolling down my face in fear for I had never been beaten before, and waited for the first stroke.

It didn't come. Instead I heard Michael's stern directive, at which I cried out and nearly wet myself in shame and fright. He told me he hadn't expected shop girls to be wearing knickers and, as the punishment was designed to be a humiliating and painful one that I would remember, I would not be allowed to retain them. He ordered me to pull my knickers right down to my ankles, spread my legs and then to stick my 'saucy bare bum' right up!

Crimson faced with shame and revulsion, I shot upright and tearfully refused. Then Michael told me if I didn''t take my knickers down he would definitely cancel my supervisor's role and recommend that his father sack me. He knew he'd won when I began wringing my hands desperately, reaching under my dress to obey then drawing back in tears. In a harsh voice, he said if my knickers weren't down by the time he counted five, I'd get twelve strokes!.

Sobbing and trembling, I pulled down my knickers, spread my legs and bent right over again, once more pulling up my dress and petticoat. I lay there in shock, red faced and shaking, my bare bottom and my intimate parts completely open to Michael's gaze as I heard him chuckle with satisfaction.

Suddenly the first stroke of the cane whipped across the underside of my bottom and all the air was driven from my lungs. I tried to scream but nothing came out and instead I wheezed like an asthmatic, gasping and shaking for I had never felt any pain as intense as that. Not until the second one whipped across my bottom anyway! By the time I'd had four strokes, I was shrieking and yelling and my bottom was gyrating across the desk. Between the strokes I could tell Michael was excited by my caning for I could hear animal grunts and heavy breathing as he warmed to his task. He brought the last two whipping down across the join of bottom and thigh and I screamed loudly enough to alert the factory staff in the next street! He stopped after six and I heard the cane thrown to the floor as I writhed and yelled in pain, my bottom just a swollen mass of agony.

I heard him tell me in a throaty voice to stay where I was and I obeyed, then I felt his strong arms round my waist. I began to whimper in panic then for I felt something thick and warm working its way down the groove of my bottom until it began to nudge at the lips of my vagina. Despite the caning or perhaps because of it,God knows, I was surprisingly wet down there and Michael was soon forcing his penis into me despite my cries for him to stop but he went ahead and did it anyway. In truth I don't think I fought him that hard, I just wanted it to be over and done. It hurt me a lot at first because I had never had sex before but eventually I got used to the feel of him inside me. He did me good and proper over the desk, then gave my poor bare bottom a good last smack before telling me to pull my knickers up and get back to work.

When I came out of his office all the girls, looking shocked, were just staring up at me. They had heard absolutely everything but no one had dared to try and stop it, and to know my shame had been so public was the most humiliating element of all. Over the next twelve months Michael found an excuse to cane my bare bottom half a dozen times and he always had me good and proper across the desk afterwards. I don't know why but I never tried to say no. This continued until I left my job to get married.
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