The Cock Inspectors
My name is Samantha and I honestly cannot believe or countenance me (mostly) writing this account of something that happened at a party recently.
I am a 44 year old professional woman who is a member of the Board on several charities and companies, a top class Quality Management Consultant by profession.
Reserved and professional are two characteristics that describe me well, I am known as a bit of an ice maiden, work is incredibly important to me as is my professional demeanour and look.
I am lucky enough to have a 22 year old daughter named Nicole who has recently graduated from University join me in the company practice. She is probably more reserved and much more quiet than me which is saying something really, but is working her way up the corporate ladder with me in the same company.
Let me describe us. I am 5"3, have a very smart blonde, business-like 'bob' hairstyle, 44E shapely bust like that weathergirl my husband likes, slender legs and prefer nice, conservative clothes influenced by my working life. Nicole is slightly taller at 5"5, has much longer blonde hair than me which she often wears in a ponytail, 38D bust and a great figure. She is very, very prim and proper for her age and some see that, especially other women, as snooty, I get the same assessment from men and women, sometimes even my husband and co-workers unfortunately.
I am currently working on an assignment at a local factory on an old industrial estate. It's a small job for Nicole and I, but the stakes are high for the guys in the factory as we are undertaking an important study on workforce numbers ready to support a reduction in staff. Jobs in this area are hard to come by and some of these guys as a result of this survey will unfortunately find themselves without a job. It's just business to us. My daughter Nicole is assisting me and to be honest, as we were short staffed, we wouldn't really pick this kind of work up as we are used to bigger, more prestigious assignments in the city.
Anyway, my husband was just about to leave the factory as he was posted to another job abroad for a few weeks and before he did, he said Nicole and I should show our faces as the factory social club as a 'getting to know you' kind of thing and also for something to do while he was away. He even brought home a poster he was handed by the foreman advertising a themed fun get together on the forthcoming Saturday. The venue was awful, a kind of flat roofed, cheap beer selling establishment that had zero charisma and I think used to be a storeroom. There was a stage, disco setup and a bar serving very cheap drinks as I remembered from my familiarisation day. A place where these factory workers would be right at home, but not the sort of place we would really want to frequent. Still business is business and Nicole and I decided to go, but the theme was bizarre. I'm surprised the could spell it correctly:
"Classy Women and the Common Man"
Nicole and I decided to go. We were a bit worried about the theme but decided to really go for the dressing up part and decided on black knee-length dresses, satin black lace full cup basques and full bottom panties and also wide plain top stockings, high-heeled strappy shoes and Nicole had her hair tied in an updo. We both wore black satin gloves to the elbow and pearl necklace and bracelets. I guess we overdid the look to really show the factory people how it was done, but it was a bit of fun, or so we thought!
Anyway, we arrived at the 'venue' (dump) by taxi as my husband was now abroad on business and couldn't take us down there which was a shame as we have a really nice executive car which I wouldn't have minded showing off to the guys but the factory had laid on transport so we climbed in this old people carrier and that had to do. We didn't tip the driver as we recognised him as one of the factory employees, so we didn't want to waste money paying him twice. Ha Ha!
When we got out and walked through the doors to the place it struck us as awful and it stunk.
Nicole had a great big false, patronising smile on her face when Dave, the chief supervisor came over to greet us. He was quite a short man, about 25 years old but a massive keep fit and bodybuilding fan. He was almost as wide as he was high and sported the most arrogant, cheesy grin you have ever seen. We didn't trust him in the factory as he always had an answer for everything and always looked shifty and suspicious.
The place was hardly what we expected inside. We thought it would have been all set up for the party, but all there was was a small group of young working class yobs sat around on scruffy old chairs drinking pints of beer. They were hardly dressed for a party but they were definitely dressed in common clothes, most in jogging bottoms and tight t-shirts, with some still in their overalls. We don't know if it was meant to be funny, but half of them were wearing comedy bow ties, which hardly qualified them as making an effort. Anyway, what do you expect.
There was a small stage to the back of the room with big speakers playing classical music. Over to the right was a well stocked bar which had a queue of lads waiting to be served by a massive ape of a man in a white short sleeved shirt, tight black jeans and a massive bunch of keys on his waist. Even this fool was wearing a bow tie as was every young guy in the queue and some were just wearing nice, fitted t-shirts. The place stank of beer and young men.
Dave asked us over to the stage and we met a real character called Johnno who was introduced to us as the entertainment of the evening. He was a hypnotist the boys had hired, and whilst Nicole and I found this old fashioned and a bit 'end of the pier', we just went along with it as we didn't intend staying long, or so we thought.
Johnno jumped up on stage and started his act. All the lads sat down with their beers and were getting loud, coarse and leery and Nicole and I heard a few unsavoury remarks about our arses and boobs which made us a little red faced to say the least.
We were invited on stage and the music stopped. Johnno started his routine and his oversized bow tie started spinning around. The cocktails that had been given to us by Dave suddenly seemed more delicious and we began to feel lightheaded and almost, well quite a bit like we were beginning to enjoy ourselves.
Johnno began to speak, the music got slower, sensual and heavy. We were conscious of loads of laughter, jeering and sexual innuendo from the boys in the crowd.
The first words we heard clearly were more like instructions. We were hanging on every word as everything he said seemed so important, essential to the smooth running and operation of the business.
Johnno said:
"Well ladies, welcome to Classy Women versus Common Man night, lovely for you to grace us with your presence this evening, you both look lovely, I am only sorry the lads didn't dress up, but hope you think they look hot and sexy in their bow ties. I bet they are really making you hot under your dresses. We are an informal lot here, you are more than welcome to make yourselves comfortable, why don't you hand your dresses to Dave who will look after them for you?"
With that, Nicole and I felt an instant desire to lose our expensive dresses and asked Dave to help us with the zips at the back.
Dave said "Fuck off you lazy twats, get 'em off yourselves!"