Factory Girl 


	The 5:30 factory whistle sounded, signaling the women that the
machines would soon shut down.   They put away their looms and
spindles, and prepared to go back to their rooms. Most were
tired, having worked since 7:30 this morning.  But Mary Walsh
perked up when she heard a familiar voice.
	"Miss Walsh, could you step into my office for a minute?"
	It was William Campbell, the plant manager.  
	"Gladly, Mr. Campbell." she replied. 
	She knew exactly what he wanted.  By the time she arrived at his
office, she had already loosened the buttons on her blouse.  When
she entered, he grabbed her tightly, giving her a fierce kiss on
the lips.   He undid the buttons on her long skirt, letting it
fall to the floor.   He tried to push her on to his desk.
	"Wait one second," she cried.
	"I want you now, " he demanded.
	"I don't want to rub by ass on the desk." 
	Mary stooped to pick up her skirt to use to cover the desk.  She
inserted a small sponge treated with vinegar into her vagina to
reduce the risk of pregnancy.  
	"Now it's fine," she said, lustily embracing him. 
	Mary had short brown hair and a pleasant face.  Even though she
wore a long skirt and high neck blouse, a whalebone corset
enhanced and displayed her luscious figure. 
	He pushed her back onto the desk.  Pale oil lamps cast a shadow
over her body.  She lifted her rear so he could push up her
corset, to expose her sex.  He undid his suspenders, to let his
trousers fall.   He pulled his prick from his under clothes and
inserted it into her.  They wanted each other with animal
ferocity.  Mary put her legs on his hips, as he stood in front of
the desk.  There was no love or tenderness, just lust.
	Mary craved human touch.  She had left an abusive father several
years ago to work in the factory.   A textile factory fostered an
anonymous existence.  These sessions with Mr. Campbell gave her
an identity.  She also needed the money.
	Campbell enjoyed the power that being a manager gave him over
his female employees.  He looked at them as his harem, even
though he did not touch many of them.   He preferred the older
women because they were more experienced and less likely to have
a boy friend or fianc back home on the farm.  Mary's enthusiasm
made her was one of his favorites. 
	The factory had been started twenty years earlier on the
"Lowell" model, which hired country girls for a few years until
they earned enough for a dowry.   Originally, the factory
provided a wholesome environment, with the women living in
supervised dormitories.  They wrote plays and published a
newspaper.   It was a finishing school for farmer's daughters.
	Recently, all the textile manufacturers had fallen on hard times
due to increased competition and a recession.  Wages were cut.  
As fewer farmer girls wanted to work at those wages, Campbell had
even begun to hire Irish girls.   But he still had old timers,
such as Mary, who needed the work, and younger girls who were
only going to stay a few years until they either found something
better or got married. 
	Campbell thrust into Mary at a fever pitch.  
	"Mr. Campbell, that feels so good," she moaned.
	He played with her breasts through the petticoat and corset.   
She had her arms around him, pulling him close.  The tension in
her pussy gave her the only positive feelings in her drab life. 
She wanted it to last as long as possible.
	"Don't finish yet, Mr. Campbell, " she pleaded.
	Campbell ignored her.   He just kept going.   Her moans
increased.  Fortunately, it was enough to bring Mary over the
edge. 
	"I'm getting there, Mr. Campbell.    I'm there! Yes! I'm there!"
 She said between moans.
	Campbell grunted, feeling the tension in his prick.  He knew he
was close. He took that as his cue to withdraw.  As he did so, a
stream of white semen erupted from his penis, pouring onto Mary's
legs.
	"Mary, that was great, as always," he said.   As she got
dressed, he handed her a silver dollar coin.
	"Thank you, Mr. Campbell."  
	After he was dressed, Campbell said, "Mary, I'd like you to do
me a favor.  As you know, our orders are down.  I'm having a
buyer from a major wholesaler from the South visit us next week.
I'd like you to entertain him, do what ever he asks.  If he gives
us a large order, I'll give you twenty dollars."
	To a woman who would normally earn a dollar a day at the
factory, Mary considered twenty dollars a lot of money.  
	  "What if he doesn't give us the order?"  she asked.
	"I'll still give you ten dollars."  
	"I'd need a new dress if you want me to impress him." 
	"I'll buy you one."
	"Why me?  You could hire a whore from downtown if you want."
	"Because you know the company.   Besides, I like you and a good
whore would cost me the same amount of money."
	"I'll do it, Mr. Campbell."
	
	In contrast with his passionate experience with Mary, Campbell's
life at home was painfully dull.   He had loved his wife, Martha
when they first got married.   But she viewed the only purpose of
sex was to have children.  Her children were the only source of
meaning in her life.  She could not comprehend why a woman would
engage in the disgusting act otherwise.   She understood that
men, like her husband, are basically animals, with animal
instincts.  But she regarded women as purer, and above all that.
She resented his insistence on sex after the children were born.
She especially resented the knowledge that he was seeking his
pleasure elsewhere.   That meant that he was weak.   It also
potentially endangered her due to the possibility of disease.  
As she grew more indifferent to sex, he grew more indifferent to
her.
	Last night he practically pleaded with her to share his bed.
	"You have to do your duty as my wife.  I have a right to this."
He pleaded.
	"Don't soil me with your dirty ideas," she replied stiffly.    
	He pushed himself on top of her and fondled with her dress.  She
recoiled at his touch.
	"Stop, you dirty man.  You should be ashamed of yourself."  
	Campbell realized it was no use.  He propositioned Mary then
next day.
	Mary returned to her room after the encounter with Campbell. 
She was greeted by catty comments from the other girls.
	"Here comes our resident whore."
	"You are such a slut!"
	"You should be ashamed of yourself."
	"You should wait until you are married."
	Mary laughed at them.   She held up her dollar.  "I made more in
half an hour than you made all day.  Mr. Campbell is nice.   You
girls should thank me.  When he's with me, he's not bothering
you.  Besides, I'm 28.  Who would want to marry me at that age?
Why shouldn't I have some fun?"
	One girl put a pillow under her dress and said, "One day you
will end up like this."
	Mary replied, "Mr. Campbell is a gentleman.  He is very careful.
 He always pulls out before he squirts his stuff.  Besides, I use
a sponge in case any leaks in."
	"Does Mr. Campbell approach all the girls?"   asked a new girl,
Abby Wilson.
	"Only the ones he knows.  I won't name anybody, but I'm not the
only one here he spends time with."
	There were a few knowing looks about the room. 
	Abby asked, "What are you going to do with the money?" 
	"Buy a new dress.  Mr. Campbell wants me to meet a buyer from
the South.   Maybe he'll make a big enough order to give us all
work."
	They grudgingly approved of what Mary was doing.  However, Beth
and Anne resented her because they only got seventy-five cents.
	Mary did not work at the factory for the next few days.  She
went into the city to have a dress made for her.   Abby helped
her to alter it to enhance her chest and hips.  
	When, Frank Stewart, the buyer from Virginia arrived, Campbell
showed him around the factory. He made sure that Mary was at her
loom when Stewart passed by. 
	Campbell introduced him, "Mr. Stewart, this is one of our best
weavers, Miss Mary Walsh.  After our tour, she has agreed to show
around our little town."
	Stewart shook her hand.  "Charmed, Miss Walsh."
	Stewart eyed her approvingly, and wondered what other charms she
might possess.
	Mary and Stewart left the plant early.  They walked around the
town.   Mary showed him the canal that powers the water wheel for
the plant, as well as the new steam engine for when the river
froze.
	"Our rivers don't freeze in Virginia."  Stewart said.
	After a walk by the park,  Stewart asked, "Would yah'll care to
join me for dinner, Miss Walsh?  I am a long way from home and
you are the only pretty young lady here I know."
	"I'd be delighted, Mr. Stewart."
	She took him to the most expensive restaurant in town.
	Mary and Frank flirted during the entire meal.  They each drank
a copious amount of wine. Mary described the quality of the
factory, and hoped he would place an order.
	After dinner, Stewart asked, "May I walk you home, Miss Walsh?"
	"You can call me Mary.  I live in a dingy rooming house.  Where
are you staying?"
	"At the inn, right here."
	"Let's go there."
	It was the words Stewart wanted to hear. 
	"Have you been to this inn before, Mary?"
	"I've been here with Mr. Campbell."
	Stewart knew he was in.
	They climbed upstairs to Stewart's room.  On the way they saw a
few other men with professional tarts.  Mary made a mental note
of whom they were.  
	In the room, Mary kissed Stewart, and then sat on the bed,
waiting for him.  
	"Would you care for a spot of whiskey?"  he asked.
	"Just a bit.  I already had some wine."
	He poured from his flask into two glasses.  He downed his
rapidly, but Mary just sipped, waiting to see what he would do.
	Stewart sat next to Mary on the bed, putting his arms around
her.  He kissed her tentatively.  Mary wanted a more direct
approach. 
	"Don't you think it's hot in here?"
	She removed her dress and stood in front of him, wearing just a
corset, garter, and hose.
	"Do me a favor and untie my corset, Mr. Stewart.  It's
uncomfortable wearing all day."
	The corset wrapped around her body, supporting her breasts from
below.  It went down below her hips, pulling in her waist.  When
she stepped out of it, she was naked except for her garter belt
and stockings.  Stewart kept staring at her.   He could feel his
penis rising to the occasion.  
	"That feels much better.  Aren't you hot, too?"
	"Yes.   Very hot."  
	Mary started to loosen his shirt and collar.   Stewart suddenly
grabbed her breasts and pulled them to his mouth, sucking
eagerly.  
	"I love girls with big tits."  he said between slurps.
	He played with her for several minutes, until Mary pushed him
back on the bed.
	"Let's see if you have enough to please a girl."  Mary said.
	She unbuttoned his trousers, and put a hand inside.   
	"Oh yes.  You have more than enough."  she sighed. 
	She started to undress him, pulling down his trousers, and
removing his shoes.  Stewart was content to let her take over.  
He wanted this little vixen, but he was hesitant with a white
woman.  Soon she had him totally naked.  She played with his
prick for several minutes.  
	"Of course you are a gentleman, Mr. Stewart.  You know how to be
careful."
	"I have better idea than being careful.  Let me get something."
	Stewart retrieved a small pouch from his belonging.  He removed
a small flexible ring. 
	"It's made of animal skin.  Put it on me."  he said.
	He stood in front of Mary.  She had seen a condom before, so she
figured out how to use it to cover Stewart's prick.  
	"It won't come off?" Mary asked.
	"It never has yet.  Lie back so I can be with you."
	Mary knew she was in for a good time. 
	Stewart resumed his attack on her luscious bulging breasts.  He
licked, sucked and kissed each one while he squeezed the other.
Mary enjoyed it, but she wanted more.
	"Put your thing in me.  I want to feel that wonderful vibration
in my quim."  Mary requested.   Stewart was not used to a woman
who demanded sex, but he wanted to oblige.  He entered her
slowly.
	"Go all the way in me. I won't bite."  Mary said,  though her
tight teeth.
	Stewart thrust in the hilt.  Mary placed her legs over his back
so she could feel him more deeply.  	
	"Fill me up.  Give me everything you've got." Mary demanded.
	Stewart moved in her slowly.  He wanted it to last.  He felt the
wonderful sensations spread over his penis.   With each movement,
they got better.  
	"Mary,  you feel so wonderful, even through the condom." 
Stewart said breathlessly. 
	"So do you." 
	The surface of Stewart's condom rubbed against her pussy,
getting her even more excited.  Mary used her legs to pull him
into her.  Stewart resumed playing with her breasts as he pushed
rhythmically.  His twists excited her even more.  They were both
grunting with excitement.
	Mary released first.  She felt engulfed in waves of pleasure. 
But Stewart was not ready. He pushed harder.  The tension in his
prick became unbearable.
	"I want it.   I want it," he grunted.
	Then his groin released repeated spasms of cum.  He grunted
breathlessly with each burst.
His orgasm was enough to trigger another wave in Mary.  
	They spent several minutes locked together.   Finally Stewart
unwrapped himself from her embraced and lay next to her.
	"That was wonderful, Mary."
	"Thank you.  I aim to please."
	"I have to clean this pouch."   He said
	He went to the washstand and rinsed out the condom, and placed
it on the rack to dry.
	He used the towel to wash himself and then handed it to Mary. 
He went behind the screen to use the chamber pot.  Because it was
late, they decided that Mary could not walk home so she slept
with him.  In spite of her numerous experiences with Campbell and
others, Mary had never before spent the night with a man.  
	The next morning,  Stewart had to go to the factory to negotiate
a deal with Campbell.  He asked Mary to join him that night to
celebrate.   Campbell also wanted Mary to celebrate, but he knew
that she had to go to Stewart.  
	Before he left the next day, Stewart offered Mary some money.
	"No thank you, Mr. Campbell has already taken care of me."
	"Well take this ten dollars, anyway.  I had a wonderful time."
	Mary realized that she had made thirty dollars for doing what
she enjoyed most.  It would take a month in the factory to earn
that. Mary finally realized that she could make more money
selling sex than she could weaving.  She knew that being a whore
was dangerous, with the risk of disease and unruly customers. 
But so was being a factory girl.  The job was mind numbingly
dull, but if a girl did not concentrate she could lose her hand
caught in the machine or have the machine grab her hair and break
her neck.  
	Mary asked some of the women at the hotel for a good brothel 
The women who saw her with Stewart and Campbell realized that
Mary was a colleague.   She worked out a deal to live at the
brothel, which would give her room and board and a modicum of
protection, in exchange for splitting what she made.  She
discovered she could earn ten dollars per session.  Even if she
just kept five, she would be very comfortable.  Unlike many
tarts, she did not hope that someday a man would take her as a
mistress.   She liked meeting and satisfying different men.   But
she always gave Campbell a discount.
	At first Campbell was unhappy that his best partner had left
him.  He still had Beth, Ann, and a few others, but they were not
as energetic as Mary.  One day he decided to try out Abby Wilson.
 
	After calling her into his office, he put his hands on her
shoulders and said, "Miss Wilson, if you do as I say, I can be
very generous."   He then pulled her close to kiss her.
	"Mr. Campbell! Stop that!  I'm not like some of your sluts.  I'm
a good girl.  I'm saving myself for marriage.  I'm engaged to be
married next year to Tom Adams, a farmer.   I love him and he's
good to me."
	Campbell released her.  He mocked her, "I'm a good girl.  Fine.
Some day you'll change your tune."  	
	Abby was afraid she had lost her job, but the next day
everything appeared normal.  		Abby came to the factory after her
engagement.  She chose it because her sisters and aunt had also
gone there to earn enough money for their weddings and dowry.  
She was taller and thinner than Mary, and had a pretty face, but
her body was not as voluptuous as Mary's.  She had done well in
grammar school, but her family did not have enough money to send
her to an academy.   
	She loved Tom Adams.   His farm was only a few miles from hers,
and they had been flirting since childhood.  Abby stitched either
his name or Mrs. Tom Adams on her clothes.  She was a very good
seamstress and embroider, whose sampler won several prizes at the
county fair.  Once they became engaged, Abby had permitted Tom
some intimacies with her body, but they had stopped well short of
intercourse.   Abby felt wonderful when they touched each other,
but she believed that intercourse belonged to marriage.
	Campbell left her alone for several months.  There were enough
girls who were easy, so he didn't see the need to fight her.  
	Then she received the letter that changed her life.  Tom Adams,
her beloved and fianc, had married Jane Smith.  This was followed
by another letter than he had done so because he had gotten Jane
pregnant.   Jane was not nearly as pretty as Abby, but she was
the daughter of the most prosperous farmer in the area.  
	Abby was devastated.  She felt her life had lost all meaning. 
She cried when any body tried to comfort her.   She felt she
couldn't go back to the town, for fear of embarrassment and
humiliation.   She refused to get up to go to work, and even
refused to eat.
	Finally, one of the girls complained to Campbell.
	"You've got to do something about Abby Wilson, Mr. Campbell. 
She misses her fianc, but if she don't eat, she'll die."
	Campbell reacted to their genuine concern.  He was egotistical,
but not cruel.  
	He went to her room. 
	"Get dressed, Miss Wilson.  You're coming with me."   He
ordered.
	  Abby felt she had to comply with an order from somebody with
as much as authority as he had.  When she got downstairs, she
found him waiting in his carriage.   He immediately drove out of
town to a country inn.
	At the inn, he ordered some lunch while Abby poured out her tale
of woe.  Abby found herself getting hungry looking at the chicken
and stews, and began to help herself.   She also drank a lot more
wine and hard cider than she was used to.  
	"Why did he do it, Mr. Campbell?  He knows I love him.  Maybe
I'm not good enough, maybe I'm not pretty any more."
	"You are still very pretty, Abby."
	"You think so?"
	"Yes."  
	It was the first warm feeling and the first smile Abby had since
the letter. 
	After Abby had had enough food and wine, Campbell said, "I not
only think you are pretty, I can prove it to."
	He took her by the hand and led her to a room in the inn.   He
had prearranged the room with the innkeeper.  When they entered
the room, Campbell seized her by arms and kissed her on the lips.
  He made her lie on the bed, while he fumbled with the buttons
on her blouse and skit.  He removed her blouse and tossed on the
floor.   Abby was too surprised and drunk to resist.  
	She knew what he was doing, and felt that she had somehow
deserved it.  If Tom had betrayed her, why shouldn't she betray
Tom?   She lifted up her rear so he could remove her skirt.  
	"You have wonderful petite breasts, Abby. I could play them for
hours."  Campbell said. 
	He touched them beneath her petticoat.   She let him do as he
pleased.  She enjoyed the warm sensations emanating from her
chest. 
	"I want to get at them better."  he said.
	He pulled the petticoat off her shoulders until her breasts were
naked.  He then resumed kissing and fondling them.   After a few
minutes, he placed a hand on her pussy.   When she did not
resist, he put a finger inside her slit.  She squirmed under this
assault, but did not say anything.  Her eyes were closed, as if
she were dreaming.  
	He rapidly removed his trousers.  
	"I want to give you a treat, Abby.  This is to make it up to you
for loosing your fianc."  He said. 
	Abby was frightened by the size of his penis.
	"You'll hurt me with that, Mr. Campbell.   You might make me
pregnant."
	"I won't hurt you or get you pregnant" He said soothingly, all
the while massaging her pussy.  "Besides, I'm going to take you
whether you want it or not."
	"No. " Abby protested, weakly.
	Campbell climbed on top of her and placed his prick at the
entrance.   He did not want to hurt her because he wanted her to
ask for more.  He pushed in slowly, but firmly.  
	"No."  Abby protested, knowing it was too late.
	Now he was fully inside, she was at his mercy.  He did not give
her any.   Instead he pumped away at her.  Abby did not expect
herself to react to this assault, but her body involuntarily did
so anyway.   She began squirming and pushing up against him.  The
warm glow in her pelvis expanded to a roasting fire.  
	"Don't make me do this, Mr. Campbell.  Don't make me feel this
way."  She complained.	
	"Feel what way?"
	"Like my body is on fire."
	Abby felt betrayed by her body almost as badly as she felt
betrayed by Tom.  But the betrayal felt good.   Maybe being
betrayed by Tom was good too.
	By this time, Campbell was too into his own pleasure to care. He
pumped wildly, grunting and breathing hard, waiting for the
inevitable rush.   When it came, he pulled out of her, letting
his erotic juices pour over her leg. 
	"So much for being a good girl and saving yourself for
marriage," Campbell said, mockingly. 
	But Abby missed the tone of his expression.  She was too wrapped
up in what had happened.  She pulled him closer, smiling and
relieved that she still had the ability to make a man happy.   
	"Thank you, Abby.  That was very nice.  Now we have to get
dressed."  Campbell said, matter of factly.
	"Oh, thank you, Mr. Campbell."  She replied quietly.
	Campbell gave her five dollars, which she interpreted as a gift
rather than a payment.
	For the few months, Abby and Campbell got together several times
a week.   He found her very obedient to his wishes regarding
positions.  . Abby thought she loved him because they had sex and
he had rescued her from a bad depression.    
	She would enter his office and say, "How do you want me, today,
dear?"
	He would order her to remove her skirt or bend over.    He
sometimes took her from behind, which she found uncomfortable and
humiliating.   She preferred sex with him on top, but she wanted
to please him.   In general, he found her to be too limited and
passive.  
	 She also did not like to take his penis in her mouth, and
especially did not like him to ejaculate into her.  She did not
like the taste and she was afraid she might get pregnant.  At
Mary's suggestion, she began to use a sponge.   As far as she was
concerned it did not matter which end the semen entered, it all
went into the same body.
	He also did not like that Abby was also jealous of his other
girlfriends.  Even though she knew he was married, she fancied
herself to be special.  She accepted his money because he was
wealthier than she was.   After their encounters, she said, "I
love you," partly to convince herself.   He never replied.
	One afternoon, she was getting ready for sex with him in his
office.  But when she entered she saw him standing behind an
Irish girl, with his member up her ass, while she was sucking the
foreman's prick.
	"How could you?  I thought we had something special.  That is so
disgusting!" she exclaimed.
	"Do want to take her place?"  Campbell said, casually.
	"That is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen.  I never want
to see you again!"  She screamed at him.   Although part of her
wondered what it must feel like to have her ass skewered by a
prick the size of Campbell's.  
	Abby stormed out of his office, angry with him for using her and
angry with herself for letting him.   She knew she could never go
back to the factory.  She just went back on payday to collect her
final wages.  
	Abby had enough money from her wages and the money Campbell had
given her to support herself for a few months, but that could not
last.    She knew where Mary was living, so she went to see her.
 She told Mary about her affair with Campbell.
	"I want to become a tart, like you, Mary.  Nobody will marry me
anyway."  Abby complained.
	"Nonsense.   You are much too sweet for this business.  You
can't let two months with a guy like Campbell ruin you forever. 
I like Mr. Campbell.   He started me in this business, and I like
it.  But he's not for you.  And being a whore is not for you. 
The fact that you find oral sex or anal sex disgusting means that
you would not do well in this business.  You can't make any money
by saying no. "
	"But where will I live?   How can I support myself?"
	"You do very nice embroidery.   Maybe you could be a
seamstress."
	"All girls do embroidery."
	"Maybe all farm girls do, but here in the city most don't.   And
you could live with that widow cousin that you sometimes visit.
I have some customers in the dry goods business.   I'll ask
around."
	"Oh, Mary, that would be so wonderful.   I knew you would be a
good friend."
	Within a week, Mary gave Abby the address of a German Jewish
retailer who offered to take her on as a seamstress and
dressmaker.  She rented a room from her cousin, and settled into
her sowing.   In a good month, she made about the same money as
she did at the factory, but she was her own boss.  However, she
made a lot less money than Mary.  She found other shop girls in
town who provided a social life.   She was afraid of dance halls
or seamier shows, but she would meet men at work or at various
events.   She was interested in a few men, but nothing serious
came of it.
	One day Tom Adams came into her store.  His mother was with him,
holding a small baby.   She did not want to look at him.
	"What are you doing here?"  She asked.
	"Looking for you."
	"Well, you found me.  Now leave."
	"Please forgive me.  When you left for the factory, Jane Smith
wanted to keep company with me.   One thing led to another, and
she got pregnant.   We had to get married.   I couldn't leave her
then.  This is our daughter."   He held up the baby.
	"Where is she now?"
	"After we got married, we left town and I bought a farm in
Indiana.  But there was nobody to help her out there.  She died
within a week of giving birth.  It was horrible."
	"I'm so sorry for you."  
	"Please forgive me," he repeated, and got down on his knees.
	"I can't.   The letter that said you got married to Jane hurt me
so bad, you'll never know.  In my pain, I did things that were so
bad, you'll never know.   I almost become something even worse. 
How can I forgive you if I can barely forgive myself? "
	"You didn't wait for me?"
	"How could I?  You didn't wait for me."
	Tom was disappointed that she did not wait for him.   He tried
to understand, but he found it hard.
	"I want to make it up to you.  Marry me."
	"No."
	Tom was surprised by her rejection.  He looked around her shop.
He could see that she did not need him to live.   Abby was
confused between her old feelings for him and the pain she had
endured because of him.
	"Can I at least see you again?"
	"Yes."
	It took several months for them to reconcile, but eventually
Abby and Tom got married and lived the rest of their lives on his
farm.