Trouble t' Mill

[cammacg]

Trouble t’ Mill
A grey Monday morning in April 1963, saw me, getting off a bus, at the bottom of the lane leading up to the Mill. Straight from school, on my first day in my adult working life. I was scared to death . It had begun with a two bus trip across Rochdale, in the dark, to be at the mill for eight a.m. And now came the walk up the lane to the gates. It seemed that the mill had been up and at it for hours, for all around me there was work being done already, and this was the case for the mill, in the main, started work at six a.m.
It was a momentous time. Meeting the personnel staff, with the mill manager Mr Chapple, and being shown to the laboratory where I was to work, becoming a small cog in the workings of a dying and finishing chain, supplying dyed cloth to the world. Of course it was a lot to take in, but in the fullness of time I became used to it, and fitted in to the run of things, making a world of new friends along the way.
One of my chores was to go down through the mill to the general office to pick up the paperwork for the dye house manager, and head chemist in the lab. This involved a death defying walk through the packing room. Here they would inspect, fold and pack the finished cloth. So the room was very long, and fitted out with long low tables with many machines to handle the heavy bales of cloth, and was staffed by about forty women, of all ages. They would hoot and yell as I walked through. I tried desperately not to run, and I didn’t, though goodness knows that I wanted to. I could have walked around the outside of the mill, but would have had to climb the stairs to that floor, only to emerge into the packing room. They would have known that I was avoiding them, and my situation would have become worse, and it was bad enough now.
So, one Friday morning I set off down to the general office. I stopped outside the door to the packing room, took a deep breath and pulled the door open. About ten or so yards along the walkway, there was an alcove where some of the women, sat and had their tea break. As I drew level, an arm flew out, caught me around the neck, and I was bodily yanked into the alcove. I was caught totally off guard, but I was just a kid, and no match for Jane, a rather large woman, with red hair, and a fair size bosom. To say she was fearsome would be an understatement. There were five other women, or “girls” waiting, and as soon as I appeared, they had me down on a low table, as was used in the packing room, and proceeded to rip my trousers off.
I was held quite firmly, and as much as I squirmed, I couldn’t break free, and with a hand clamped over my mouth, I couldn’t yell either. I was very soon trouser less, and had my shirt ripped open, so I was virtually naked. Then I thought I was saved. One of my captors whispered loudly, “look out, it’s Chaplet”. One of the girls said “hold him still”. Then I heard another say, “here, cover him with this”. They threw a cover over me, apparently sat on me, in a simulated tea break pose, as the boss walked past. I don’t think he even looked in the alcove because, all I heard was the boss say “ladies”, and the ladies reply of, “ 'morning Mr Chaplet”. Butter wouldn’t melt eh?
As soon as Chaplet had moved away, the gang started on me again. A fair haired, younger woman called Martha said “look at this”. It now became apparent to me that I had been covered with one of my assailants, rubber lined mackintosh, and its effect on me was becoming known. I heard Jane say, “Well, well, he’s a rubber boy, and a nice size cock he’s got too”. I felt a hand grip my member, and Jane said, “Keep him quiet”.
Lucy, the girl with her hand over my mouth, released her grip on my mouth, turned, lifted her overall skirts, and I could see she had no knickers on. She then lowered herself, on to my face, clamping her vagina over my mouth. I was struggling for breath. My mouth was wide open, with my tongue thrashing about to try to gain air. This was exactly what Lucy wanted. She was wriggling about, and making appreciative noises. At the other end, I could feel Jane wanking me off through the rubber mack. Then there it was, the mack was removed. A mouth was clamped round my erect cock, and within seconds I was cumming. Whoever owned the mouth didn’t stop till she had taken every drop. In the meantime, Lucy was riding my face for all she was worth.
Then they were gone. I was left, almost naked, trying to get my clothing back on, trying to compose myself, and trying to wipe up the last drops of semen in my handkerchief.
When I eventually staggered into the general office, the receptionist smiled and asked, “Have you been running?”, “yes”, I mumbled in rely, “I thought I was late”.
I stayed at the mill for several years, before moving on. And every time I walked through the packing room, it was to calls of “hey up, its rubber boy”, sometimes it was just “yoo hoo”. Lucy always furiously licked her lips in simulation of what I got to know as a blow job. I often wish I could walk through the packing room now…….

[blackmacjay]

Good story.

Just a little advice if I may.

Better use of paragraphs etc would make it easier to read.

[blackmacjay]

Trouble t’ Mill

A grey Monday morning in April 1963, saw me, getting off a bus, at the bottom of the lane leading up to the Mill. Straight from school, on my first day in my adult working life. I was scared to death. It had begun with a two bus trip across Rochdale, in the dark, to be at the mill for eight a.m.

And now came the walk up the lane to the gates. It seemed that the mill had been up and at it for hours, for all around me there was work being done already, and this was the case for the mill, in the main, started work at six a.m.

It was a momentous time. Meeting the personnel staff, with the mill manager Mr Chapple, and being shown to the laboratory where I was to work, becoming a small cog in the workings of a dying and finishing chain, supplying dyed cloth to the world. Of course it was a lot to take in, but in the fullness of time I became used to it, and fitted in to the run of things, making a world of new friends along the way.

One of my chores was to go down through the mill to the general office to pick up the paperwork for the dye house manager, and head chemist in the lab. This involved a death defying walk through the packing room. Here they would inspect, fold and pack the finished cloth. So the room was very long, and fitted out with long low tables with many machines to handle the heavy bales of cloth, and was staffed by about forty women, of all ages.

They would hoot and yell as I walked through. I tried desperately not to run, and I didn’t, though goodness knows that I wanted to. I could have walked around the outside of the mill, but would have had to climb the stairs to that floor, only to emerge into the packing room. They would have known that I was avoiding them, and my situation would have become worse, and it was bad enough now.

So, one Friday morning I set off down to the general office. I stopped outside the door to the packing room, took a deep breath and pulled the door open. About ten or so yards along the walkway, there was an alcove where some of the women, sat and had their tea break. As I drew level, an arm flew out, caught me around the neck, and I was bodily yanked into the alcove. I was caught totally off guard, but I was just a kid, and no match for Jane, a rather large woman, with red hair, and a fair size bosom.

To say she was fearsome would be an understatement. There were five other women, or “girls” waiting, and as soon as I appeared, they had me down on a low table, as was used in the packing room, and proceeded to rip my trousers off.

I was held quite firmly, and as much as I squirmed, I couldn’t break free, and with a hand clamped over my mouth, I couldn’t yell either. I was very soon trouser less, and had my shirt ripped open, so I was virtually naked. Then I thought I was saved. One of my captors whispered loudly, “look out, it’s Chaplet”. One of the girls said “hold him still”. Then I heard another say, “here, cover him with this”. They threw a cover over me, apparently sat on me, in a simulated tea break pose, as the boss walked past. I don’t think he even looked in the alcove because, all I heard was the boss say “ladies”, and the ladies reply of, “ 'morning Mr Chaplet”.

Butter wouldn’t melt eh?

As soon as Chaplet had moved away, the gang started on me again. A fair haired, younger woman called Martha said “look at this”. It now became apparent to me that I had been covered with one of my assailants, rubber lined mackintosh, and its effect on me was becoming known. I heard Jane say, “Well, well, he’s a rubber boy, and a nice size cock he’s got too”. I felt a hand grip my member, and Jane said, “Keep him quiet”.

Lucy, the girl with her hand over my mouth, released her grip on my mouth, turned, lifted her overall skirts, and I could see she had no knickers on. She then lowered herself, on to my face, clamping her vagina over my mouth. I was struggling for breath. My mouth was wide open, with my tongue thrashing about to try to gain air. This was exactly what Lucy wanted. She was wriggling about, and making appreciative noises.

At the other end, I could feel Jane wanking me off through the rubber mack. Then there it was, the mack was removed. A mouth was clamped round my erect cock, and within seconds I was cumming. Whoever owned the mouth didn’t stop till she had taken every drop. In the meantime, Lucy was riding my face for all she was worth.

Then they were gone. I was left, almost naked, trying to get my clothing back on, trying to compose myself, and trying to wipe up the last drops of semen in my handkerchief.

When I eventually staggered into the general office, the receptionist smiled and asked, “Have you been running?”, “yes”, I mumbled in rely, “I thought I was late”.
I stayed at the mill for several years, before moving on. And every time I walked through the packing room, it was to calls of “hey up, its rubber boy”, sometimes it was just “yoo hoo”. Lucy always furiously licked her lips in simulation of what I got to know as a blow job.

I often wish I could walk through the packing room now…….

[kulshan]

This is the best little story I've seen about female domination yet. Fantastic job and thanks!

[cammacg]

Thanks for your comments blackmacjay. I will take all on board.

[blackmacjay]

You are welcome. It does help I think!

[hotwilly]

Great story, thanks

[sissy_sofi]

great little fantasy.

[mrbassman101]

Great story ,I really enjoyed it .Would love to read another episode if
there is one.
Regards
mrbassman101

[blackmacjay]

Let's hope that the author agrees!