The Newbie

The Newbie

Sally Jones is a bitch! And so is Dave Roberts, her boyfriend. Can a man be called a bitch? Maybe not, bitches are female. Okay, he's a bastard then (not literally, as far as I know). Well, they got what they asked for, I suppose, but I don't know how I'm going to face John on Monday, I really don't. I feel so guilty and embarrassed, even though it really wasn't my fault.

Okay, let's back up a couple of days to Thursday afternoon. My name's Lisa Barnes, by the way, and I work in the typing pool at... well, perhaps it's better not to say; a company large enough to need a typing pool anyway. Not the most exciting job, perhaps, but a nice bunch of girls and it pays the bills. The biggest challenge is trying to read some people's handwriting. And then they complain if you guess wrong, I ask you!

Well, on Thursday Miss Mortimer, our supervisor, told us we would be getting a new starter in the morning. New people usually start on Fridays. It may seem strange but that way they can be 'shown the ropes' on the quietest day and then have a break before starting in earnest on the Monday. Plus we all go out for drinks each Friday, pay packets burning holes in our pockets, so we can bond with the newbie and do our slightly naughty initiation, if she lets us.

"We have a new girl starting tomorrow to replace Gloria,” (who had moved away with her husband) announced Miss Mortimer, “and I'm sure you'll all make her welcome. It's a Miss” - she put her cigarette down and squinted at the paper - “Joan Benson I think. This handwriting really is atrocious, it looks more like John to me. Anyway she'll be here in the morning so please help her settle in.”

Friday morning we arrived a little before nine, as usual, to find a somewhat disgruntled Miss Mortimer talking to a strikingly good-looking fair-haired young man in smart slacks, a shirt and tie and a leather jacket. Once we settled down she clapped for attention. “It seems I was wrong yesterday” she huffed. “Our new girl is not a girl after all. This is Mister John Benson, our new typist. I don't hold with it, men doing women's work, but nobody asked me, I get what I'm given and like it or lump it. Some new law [The Sex Discrimination Act, 1975], apparently, if men want to be girls at work you have to treat them like girls. They legalised 'men' like that a few years ago and I don't hold with that either, it's not natural. Sorry, Lisa, but can I ask you to look after him? Just give him something to do and keep him out of my hair. I don't know what the world's coming to.”

I settled John at the desk next to mine and showed him where everything was. Naturally we were all curious about the novelty of a male typist. “I taught myself to type because I want to get into journalism” he explained. “I need a job while I'm looking for an opportunity and when I saw this one I thought it would be good practice. And by the way, I'm not gay if that's what the old trout was implying, just so you know.” I'd worked that out for myself from the way he kept looking at me.

"So I noticed” I said, pointedly. “Just remember that it's Mrs Lisa Barnes, you don't want my husband reminding you. As for the 'old trout' she's actually a pretty good boss, just a bit old fashioned. She started work before the war and I don't think she's got over the swinging sixties yet. As for Glam Rock and 'gender benders'.... Just give her time. If you're any good at the job I expect she'll get used to you.”

I explained our tradition to him. The Queen's Head opened at 5:30 so we went straight from work each Friday for drinks and monopolised the skittle ally (the room not the alley itself) which was never in use then. Whenever we had a new starter we liked to get a pic of her in her bra and panties using a Polaroid camera, just as an ice-breaker nothing sexual about it. (Until now, maybe?)

"We never force anyone if she really doesn't want to” I told him. “But it's a good litmus test. Anyone who won't drop her inhibitions and have a laugh usually doesn't last long here. We don't drive them out, they just don't like the culture here so they leave. I don't see it's any different for you, except I don't suppose you wear a bra. You don't have to come for a drink and you don't have to do anything you don't want to, but you'll fit in much better if you join in.

"And you never know, you might get lucky. Some of the single girls get a bit frisky after a few drinks so if they like what they see....”

"Not too frisky, I hope” he replied with a nervous grin. “I'd like to keep some dignity, if you know what I mean.”

"Oh, yeah, I know what you mean. But I've never seen them do anything like that unless someone gives them a reason. Grope someone or swear in front of us and you're liable to lose your underwear, not otherwise.” That reminded me of the drunk young man a couple of weeks ago who didn't want to take 'no' for an answer and called Julie an F-ing cock-teasing bitch. Let's just say that with a bit of help from her friends she proved him right in a way he won't forget in a hurry. Neither will I, but that's another story. I smiled at the memory. “Just watch your Ps and Qs [manners] and you'll be fine” I told John. I swear I believed it when I said it.

"Okay then” he said. “A few drinks with some pretty girls sounds like fun and it'll give me some 'Dutch courage' if I need it.”

We got on with the day and he certainly seemed promising. He could type fairly quickly and seemed adept at deciphering the scrawled missives we had to transcribe. He was also personable and clearly enjoyed the company of women (as people, not just for the obvious reason).

In the afternoon Kathy from wages came around giving out pay packets full of lovely cash. I transferred the notes and coins to my purse. They used to pay us in the morning but then everyone went to the pub for lunch and there were too many mistakes in the afternoon. Not from me though, I'll have one drink to be sociable but I don't need to get drunk to have a good time. I've got better things to do with my money as well.

Eventually it was five thirty and the end of the week. A couple of people had things to do and headed off but most of us headed for the Queen's to celebrate. I felt a bit guilty going out when hubby was doing three hours overtime each night but one Babycham won't break the bank and I resolved to make it last. Most of the girls were breaking pound notes to buy double gins and vodkas, and get change for the cigarette machine. No wonder they're all broke by Wednesday.

After an hour or so the atmosphere was getting loud, raucous and smokey. I was still on my first (only) Babycham and I saw John was nursing his pint, but then he didn't have a pay packet to spend. At that point Annie appeared, carrying the Polaroid and a little drunk already, even before seven o'clock. “Piccie time!” she called out. “Where's the newbie?”

This was a popular suggestion. A lot of the girls were keen to see this attractive young man in less clothing and their inhibitions were drowned in alcohol. Oh all right, I admit it, I too was glad this was happening now as I wasn't averse to seeing it myself and planned to catch the 7:40 bus home to cook Gary a hot meal. It's the least I can do when he's done twelve hours at work. “Remember, you don't have to” I reminded John, hoping he would ignore me. He did.

John looked nervous but also flattered as girls surrounded him, playfully tugging his tie off and unbuttoning his shirt. “I've got an idea” called Sally mischievously, holding up his tie. “Let's have some fun with this!”

Soon John was shirtless, lying on his back on a table, wrists tied together above his head and tied to a table leg using his own tie. Then his shoes and socks were off and his trousers open. And the sight of a good-looking stud, helpless at our mercy, was really erotic somehow. It certainly was having an effect on me. I hoped Gary wouldn't be too tired after his long day.

"Hey, there's a bloke in here!” called someone. “That's not allowed on Newbie Night!” I looked around and sure enough Dave Roberts from Despatch was walking towards us.

"Actually there's two blokes in here” pointed out Sally, pointing at John. “No blokes, no 'Newbie' so maybe the rules have changed.” She turned to Dave and kissed him. “Hi there, stud.”

Annie stood there waving the camera. “Come on girls” she chided. “Get his trousers so I can get a picture.”

Two of the girls excitedly pulled his trousers down and off and we got a surprise. John wasn't wearing underpants. Well of course, he was, don't get me wrong, but not normal ones. You see men in underwear on TV and it's more like shorts but that's the rules for what you can show on TV, normal undies are too revealing or something so they have these shorts but I didn't think anyone wore them in real life but John was. I don't know if he always does or maybe he got a pair from somewhere to be more modest tonight. Big mistake if so. Or maybe Sally would have found some other excuse.

Because Sally had it in for John, that was for sure. I didn't (and still don't) know if she disliked him personally or just resented a man joining our team and diluting the 'hen party' atmosphere but it became clear she'd planned and prepared for this. “Wait” she said, as Annie raised the camera. “Bra and panties, that's the rule. I've got a spare set here” - she started rummaging in her handbag - “for him somewhere. If he wants to do women's work he can wear women's clothes. Meanwhile, get them shorts off!”

"We can't do that!” said Janice, appalled at the prospect. “He'll be naked. What if he complains to Miss Mortimer?”

"If this morning's anything to go by she'll agree with me” said Sally.

"And anyway, it's not such a big deal for blokes” added Dave. “You should see what happens on a stag night [bachelor party]!”

Janice looked him over scornfully. “Well then if it's no big deal why don't you get 'em off and give us a cheap thrill?”

"Okay then, if you like” said Dave. Before anyone realised what he was going to do he grabbed John's shorts, yanked them off him, and threw them on top of his other clothes. “Well, at least now we know he's a natural blond.” No-one had doubted that, Dave probably said that just to 'rub it in' what we could all see. And yes, we all saw. What can I say, I'm only human. Show me a good-looking naked young male, and this one was fully equipped with the standard boy parts, and of course I'm going to look. I'm faithful to Gary, and I felt sorry for John but I'm no saint. Of course I looked. Stared, to be honest. We all did.

It took a few seconds for the shock to pass. I saw John looking straight at me. He didn't say a word but he didn't have to. The hurt look in his eyes said it all. It said “I trusted you and you lied to me and set me up.”

"I meant you not him” snapped Janice. I suppose she was talking to Dave but she wasn't looking at him.

"Too late now” laughed Dave, inordinately pleased with himself.

Julie whispered something to Shirley, who looked closer. “I think you're right” said Shirley. “I think he likes the attention. Randy little bugger!” We all looked closer, and she was right. Things were stirring down there. We watched, fascinated, as John's balls tightened up and his dick became erect. His face was bright red from embarrassment but he couldn't control his reaction to all the women looking at him. A bit cruel, perhaps, but we weren't really hurting him and we couldn't un-see anything so we didn't see much wrong with continuing to stare. No-one made any move to release him, anyway. Friday night entertainment doesn't get any better than this. And then it did.

Janice, Pauline, Sue, Betty and Vicky surrounded Dave. And Julie and Shirley grabbed Sally and held her so she couldn't interfere. “You think it's no big deal and a good laugh, I can see that” said Janice. “So I'll tell you again. You get 'em off and give us a cheap thrill. Or we'll do it for you. You can't complain after what you did to John. So start stripping!”

"Strip! Strip! Strip! Strip!” chanted everyone except Dave, Sally and John. We were loud enough that a few of the lads drinking in the main bar glanced our way curiously through the open door. They didn't dare come and investigate though, lest they be next. Angie closed the door to keep things private, we didn't want the landlord spoiling the party.

"No, come off it girls, I only did what you wanted” protested Dave, fearfully.

"And you'll do what we want now, and all” said Janice, undoing his tie and pulling it off. “The only thing that's coming off is your clothes. Shirt next, will you do it or shall I?” Dave stood there paralysed so Janice unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. He didn't try to help her or stop her, just stood there. I suppose he knew he couldn't stop it but couldn't bear to do it himself. “Now we need another table” said Janice. “Put it next to John's.”

Once the table was in place Dave was tied to it just the same as how John was tied to his. It didn't take long for the girls to get his shoes, socks and trousers off. He was wearing normal undies (red y-fronts, since you ask) but that didn't save him. Janice was hell bent on getting revenge on John's behalf. And giving the rest of us another thrill, of course. She grabbed the sides of his y-fronts and looked him in the eye. “Ready then, 'stud?'” she asked mockingly.

Dave didn't answer so she pulled the last of his clothes off and looked back and forth between him and John. “Good grief, it's little and large” she said, after the comedians I suppose. You know, the northern lads, won Opportunity Knocks a few years back. It wasn't really fair, Dave wasn't that little he just didn't have an erection but it got a laugh and you could tell Dave hated hearing it. Too bad! If you can't take it, don't give it out, as they say.

"Sally says she's got a spare bra and panties for John” called Janice. “Someone look in her bag and see.” Betty searched the bag and handed over a cheap set. Sally must have got it from the discount shop at lunch, or maybe snuck out after we got paid. “He can keep them for a souvenir” said Janice. “I'm not going to make him wear them. Put his shorts back on and we'll do some piccies.” I wondered who put her in charge of things but Betty got them and pulled them back up his legs as Annie approached brandishing the Polaroid.

"Better give John a minute to calm down” said Janice, glancing at the obvious 'tent' in his shorts. “Let's start with Dave.” She thought for a second. “Have you got enough film there for..... let's see.... six pictures?”

Annie checked. “More than enough” she reported.

"Good. Take two of Dave, just as he is now. One for us, one for the lads in Despatch, they'll think it's a great laugh and never let him forget it.”

"NO!!!” Dave was horrified and tried to roll over onto his front. I wondered why neither of them had tried that before, didn't think of it perhaps. But it didn't do him any good, Betty saw what he was trying to do and grabbed his ankles to stop him. Vicky stood at the head of the table and grabbed his ears to stop him turning his face away.

"Go on, Annie, quick” said Betty. “Make sure you get his thighs and his face in the picture.” She looked up at Dave's face. “We stick together and take care of our own” she told him. “You should have thought of that before you picked on one of our girls, even if he's not a girl.”

The camera flashed and printed out its picture. Annie passed it to Janice, who waved it in the air to dry while Annie took a second one. Janice then showed Dave the first picture. “Good likeness isn't it?” she taunted. “Your workmates will love it! But don't worry, they probably won't put it on the notice board, you'd only take it down. I expect they'll just pass it around themselves and then keep it somewhere to show any girl that asks them.” He didn't look thrilled by this prospect. 'Oh dear, how sad, never mind' as Sargent Major Williams would say [in the comedy show 'It Ain't Half Hot Mum']. He was the reason John's workmates saw him naked so fair's fair!

John was looking amused at what was happening to Dave but now he was relatively 'decent' his excitement had subsided and there was no longer a tent in his shorts. Annie went to take his picture while Vicky and Sue got to work on Dave, trying to make him get an erection. John even managed to smile for the camera and we got a nice pic for the collection. Then he was untied so he could get up and dress.

Dave nearly lost it when Annie returned to take a picture of him with an erection. “No WAY!!” he almost shouted. “You have got to be fu....” - he stopped himself just in time. There is never a good time to swear like that around women, but if there could be, well, this wasn't it.

"Relax Dave” said Janice condescendingly. “Annie, just take the one photo this time. We'll keep that for ourselves. We don't need to let his mates see his full potential.” She looked Dave full in the face. “Unless you give us trouble that is.” Nice touch. I think that's what they call leverage.

"That's four photos” said Annie. “You said six so what's the other two?”

"Isn't it obvious?” laughed Janice. “Sally's brought a bra and panties for him to wear for the photos. We'll have one pic for ourselves, one for Despatch, like before.”

"Except I only brought the one set” pointed out Sally. “And you gave them to John for a souvenir. I didn't bring a set for my boyfriend, why would I? You'll have to ask John to give them back if you want to do that. Better, just leave it.”

"Come off it, girl” replied Janice. “You're not telling me you haven't got a bra and panties on you, are you? Hand 'em over or we'll just take them anyway.”

Sally paled as she realised what Janice meant. “You can't be serious.....”

"Listen, bitch. It's like Betty said, we stick together and take care of our own. Only you didn't. You let the side down when you and Dave picked on John. Now Dave's paying the price and so will you. If we stripped you naked you'd only be getting what you deserve. But you're a girl and a workmate so we're letting you off light, if you co-operate. Hand 'em over and you can keep your skirt and blouse. If we have to take them you won't.”

Sally thought for a moment, considering her options. It didn't take her long to realise that she really didn't have any. Plus, the longer she hesitated the longer Dave would be naked in public and since I'm sure this was originally her idea not his she probably didn't want to make things any worse. “Can I go to the 'ladies' then?” she asked pathetically. “I can't get this bra off under my blouse.”

"No” said Janice bluntly. She was really angry about what had happened to John. “We don't want you running off.” Then she softened a bit. “But you can stand in the corner with your back to the room if you like.”

Sally went and stood in the corner. No-one could see anything private but still, imagine taking your unmentionables off in front of a room full of people who know you've been made to do it. I'm so glad that wasn't me. She took off her blouse and bra, showing her back, then put the blouse back on quickly. Then she reached up under her skirt and pulled her knickers off. She meekly handed them to Janice, who passed the bra to Vicky and the knickers to Betty.

Soon Dave was 'dressed' again. In his girlfriend's underwear! Annie hefted the camera and took two more pictures, handing each to Janice as soon as it printed out. “I'd love to be a fly on the wall in Despatch on Monday” she giggled. “I might find out if you really can piss yourself laughing when those lads see these piccies!” Dave was going to find out too, but didn't look like he was looking forward to it.

We were all looking at Dave when there was a shout from behind me of “Hey, John!” We turned to look. Pauline had shouted but as we turned Sue, who had crept up behind Sally, suddenly pulled her skirt right up above her waist and wrapped her arms around her from behind, holding her still.

"Payback time!” shouted Sue as Sally desperately tried to pull her skirt back down. Sally squeezed her thighs together so we didn't see anything really intimate but now we know that, like John, Sally is a natural blonde! After a second Sue let her go and backed off, laughing.

"Time for these two to leave, I think.” Janice picked up Dave's clothes but, instead of giving them to him, she walked over to the window in the side wall and pushed them through it. This window overlooked a grubby yard of no interest to anyone so they wouldn't be stolen but to get to them he'd have to go through the main bar, out the front door to the car park, and around the side to the yard. I hoped he'd make it, unmolested.

Dave was untied. He went to the door to the main bar and took off at a sprint. There were shouts, whistles, and much laughter, but no-one seemed to go after him and soon we saw him outside the window putting his clothes on. I looked around and saw Sally had gone, either to wait for Dave or get well out of his way until he'd had time to calm down, I don't know which.

John drained his pint and was putting his jacket on so I hurried over to speak to him. “Look, I'm sorry about tonight. I really didn't know that was going to happen. I hope the payback they got is some comfort at least.”

"Yeah, whatever. See you Monday” he said gruffly. I couldn't tell if he was angry with me or just embarrassed to talk about it. And then he walked out. So I really don't know what to expect on Monday. Screams of laughter from Despatch no doubt, but what the atmosphere will be like working with John and Sally I have no idea.

And that's about it really. Some of the girls were planning to make a night of it but would be heading for places they'd be more likely to meet boys. I finished my drink and headed for the bus stop.

The En.... What? Oh yes, of course, you want to know what happened to the charmer who called Julie a cock-teasing bitch don't you? Okay then, here goes.

Well, as I said this happened a few weeks back, I don't remember exactly when but fairly recent. Gary had come into town to meet me and go for a meal out. After the meal I remembered something I meant to tell Caroline but forgot so we went back to the Queen's Head for another drink. This was about ten o'clock I think.

After a few minutes Julie came in through the door looking really angry, followed by the aforementioned drunk young man. She turned to him and snapped “Piss off and leave me alone, will you? I won't tell you again!”

"Good, don't” he replied. “You don't get me going and then walk away you” - I won't quote the next word but it starts with F - “cock-teasing bitch! Bitches like you should be raped, you ask for it!”

I saw the look on Gary's face and grabbed his wrist. “It's all right, Gary, really” I said fearfully. “I've heard it all before. Please don't start anything. It's not worth it.”

"Somebody needs to teach that..... that bloke some manners” he retorted angrily.

"Don't worry, Gary, somebody will, it doesn't have to be you” said Janice quietly. Yes, that Janice, what can I say? I think she just enjoys educating people who need it. She turned to the would-be rapist and said “You'd better come and sit down a minute.” Then she went over to Julie, who was looking outraged, and whispered in her ear. Soon she calmed down and even started smiling.

Three other lads appeared in the doorway looking nervous, as well they might. “Sorry about him” said one of them. “He's an embarrassment sometimes. He's had a bit to drink. He didn't really mean that. Probably best if we just take him home, out of your way.”

"No, no” said Janice winsomely, “he's partly right. You boys just stay there and watch and you'll see. It'll be a laugh for you.”

Julie went over to the young man, who was sat on a chair against the side wall, between Sue and Vicky. She smiled at him seductively. “Stand up a minute” she requested and he did. She started running her hands over his chest and then tugging his t-shirt, pulling it out of his jeans. He started to protest but she held a finger to his lips. “I just want to see your sexy chest, that's all. I bet you're really strong with these hard muscles. You're not shy are you? Please don't spoil it for me.”

Well either he was very drunk or very, very stupid because he fell for it and allowed a girl he'd just insulted and threatened to start undressing him in a public place. And of course, it didn't stop with the shirt. Once she'd got that off she went straight for his belt and started undoing it. “What the hell?” he said and moved to stop her. But Sue and Vicky grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms away, holding him still. “What the hell?” he repeated. “What are you doing?”

"Proving you right” said Julie, looking him in the eye. “Well, partly right anyway. I'm not” - she repeated that awful word, I never heard her use it before, perhaps she thought it was okay to quote it - “tonight. Well, not you anyway. But I can be a bitch sometimes, and I'm going to do some prick teasing. Can't tease it if I can't get to it, so let's get the little chap out and have a look at him.” She returned her attention to his belt.

He really started struggling then. He tried to pull his arms free but Sue and Vicky were each holding one wrist with both hands. He was probably stronger than either one of them, but not both together. He tried to kick out with his feet but Julie dodged it easily. His pleas for mercy were ignored and soon his jeans were round his ankles, which stopped the kicking, and he stood there almost naked except for a pair of skimpy purple briefs. Julie looked at them critically. “Not exactly bulging, are they?” she commented. “Oh well, let's see what we've got.” They joined his jeans around his ankles.

I've seen bigger, it has to be said. Gary snorted with derision. A lot of the girls were giggling. Even his mates were grinning with a mixture of amusement and vicarious embarrassment. After a few seconds Julie reached out and started playing with him. His thingy soon got bigger, sadly not all that much. She wrapped her hand around it and started sliding it up and down the shaft. I knew what this would do and I looked forward to seeing it.

But when he got that tense look on his face and started breathing hard she started slowing down. He started bucking his hips trying to speed things up but she just slowed down more until she was still and he was making love to her hand. Then she took the hand away, leaving him squirming, and just stroked him with one finger a few times. There was a clear liquid oozing out of him and she used her finger to smear this around the exposed, shiny head. He actually groaned. “Are you going to let me finish?” he asked plaintively. Imagine wanting to do something so embarrassing in public.

"Of course I will” said Julie. “You can finish any time you want. But I won't help you finish because I'm a prick teasing bitch and I'm having too much fun teasing you.” She gripped him and pumped a few times, then stopped again. “When you want to finish just let us know.” She ran her finger around the head. “And we'll let go of your arm so you can finish yourself off in front of us all, with your friends watching as well.”

"I'm not doing that!” he said indignantly.

"That's okay, you don't have to if you don't want to. I'll just carry on teasing then.” And she did. Fair play to the boy, he had will power. It was obvious he was suffering and terribly frustrated but he was determined he wasn't going to play with himself in public and he stuck it out.

"Time, ladies and gentlemen, please” called the landlord in the next room. Julie let go and backed off and Vicky and Sue released his arms. He pulled his trousers up, grabbed his shirt and pulled it on, barged past his grinning friends and rushed out. For his sake I hope he lived close by; I think he needed to get to a private place quite urgently.

I hope the incident taught him some manners, but I don't know, I haven't seen him since. Perhaps he just doesn't go to the Queen's Head much, or maybe he's scared of a repeat performance. But it certainly was fun to watch.

And this time it really is

The End