Initation rites by MattB

Initation rites
by MattB

Up north, new lads at work always get ragged in their first week, so you’re ready for it. I started in the poster shop of a pretty big print works about two years ago, but we had to do one week in all of the different departments so we knew everything that went on in the company. I had to do a week in the press shop, where adhesive letters get cut out with dies. It’s all women working in the press shop, they have to swing the heavy presses all day so their arms end up pretty strong. There’s twelve women in the press shop. Head of the shop is Joyce, who’s about sixty and big-built with real shoulders on her. The other one who seemed high up is Margaret, who’s a little wiry woman who’s been there years. She put me on a press next to Jennifer who’d only been there about four years, and she showed me how to swing the metal arm on the press – without losing my fingers when the die smashes down. Jennifer’s a couple of years older than me because she left school at sixteen. She was great, showing me round and where to make tea and stuff. I was there two days and I’d heard about the ragging but thought I’d got away with it. The women all seemed nice and anyway I was only in their department for the week.
It was just before dinnertime on the Wednesday. I’d had a couple of wage packets by then and blown the lot on clothes. It was the first time I’d had proper money to spend on myself like that, so I went over the top. I’d got this class white t-shirt which was really big and baggy cos I was hoping Jennifer would catch the label. And I got a great pair of Nikes which I’d been saving up for anyway. I knew something was up when Margaret asked me to go down to the boiler room to help her move some boxes. The boiler room was only used for storing old packaging, I knew that, but I couldn’t say anything. Margaret let me go first and as soon as I started down the steps and I heard the door slam behind me I knew I was in for it. There’s a couple of lightbulbs down there but it’s pretty dark. I could see Joyce waiting and a couple of the other women. “Come on” she says, “down here”. I was a bit nervous built not really fazed but what I was really worrying about was the t-shirt cos it was really white and it was the first day on and the boiler room was filthy. I wanted to say something like “Watch the t-shirt” but that would’ve sounded really daft cos they hadn’t done anything and I wasn’t supposed to know so I just went down. I just felt a bit nervous I suppose but not really scared or anything. “Come over here” says Joyce and I have to walk alongside of the old boiler. I was still hoping perhaps they just wanted me to move some boxes, but I knew it wasn’t that because these women didn’t need a skinny kid like me to lift stuff for them.
It was Margaret grabbed my arms from the back and made me jump. There was about three of the other women standing round but I didn’t really know any of them. Joyce starts pulling the t-shirt up. I wanted to be like really cool like guys in the pictures when they get captured and they just make a joke out of it, but I couldn’t get a single word out and I felt really fucking dumb. I was worried about the t-shirt cos it cost nearly forty quid and it was the first time I’d had it on, and I think I said “Careful with the shirt” but I think it just come out as a mumble. Anyway, I let Joyce pull it off and I watched where she threw it and felt really sick cos it was on the floor. Then Margaret got my arms again and Joyce and one of the other women started undoing my trainers and pulled them off and my socks. I was just hoping I could find everything after in the dark.
“Up!” Joyce says, and I have to lift my arms up. They’ve got this wooden plank running across the ceiling, lashed to the pipes and I think I’ve got to hang onto it. Then they got these old luggage straps and start strapping my wrists to the plank. It sounds daft now that I didn’t try to resist or run off, but it was only like a game and that felt like a soft thing to do, so I thought I’d just let them get on with it and get it over with. I know Andy had been covered with blue paint when they did him, and Irish Mike had all this cold trifle poured down his pants. I was wearing these really cool Calvins just in case anything happened and Jennifer was there, I didn’t want her to see me in M&S Y-fronts. Now I was worried they’d get useless with paint or something.
I thought if it happened it was going to be Jennifer and the younger girls, and I spose that was a bit of a kinky turn-on, getting your pants pulled down by a girl, but being Joyce and Margaret who are like middle-aged, I felt a bit iffy about it. It was Joyce unzipped my jeans and then when she’d strapped my wrists up to the plank, pulled them down and right off. “He isn’t bad, him” said one of the girls, Debs, who came over to have a look at me. It should’ve been sexy, but I just felt a prat, hung up. “Calvin Klein!” she said and snapped the waistband of my pants, “they must pay ‘em some money in posters.”
The door at the top of the steps opened and some more women came down. This time it was Jennifer with a couple of the others. “We’ve got him” says Joyce, “do you want to do the honours?”. While she was speaking she shoved this ball of bandage or something in my mouth “This’ll shut him up for a bit” and stuck this length of gaffer tape over my mouth.It was starting to get real scary and didn’t feel like fun at all. The women kept sniggering but it didn’t feel like a joke. I couldn’t look at Jennifer, hanging there in my pants with my mouth taped up. I just wanted it all to be over and go home and have my tea. I couldn’t even look cool cos I could feel myself shaking. I must have looked a real fucking wuss. It was Jennifer pulled my pants down “Let’s have a look at you, Matt”. The women all moved in, craning their necks. “Eh, he’s not bad, is he, Jenn?” said the fat girl with red hair. Jennifer had got my pants right off and hung them on the boiler door.
I started to feel a bit relieved cos I now was bollock-naked and this was as bad as it gets. Then Joyce and Margaret grabbed an ankle each and whipped my legs up in the air. I was doubled right up and lost my breath and now Istarted to panic what they would do. I felt my ankles bang on the wooden plank over my head. I was doubled up like a hairpin. While Joyce grunted and heaved me up, Margaret spread my legs and somebody was strapping both my ankles up to the plank. My legs were spread so far I could feel my joints straining and my hips really hurt. I tried to cry out but my mouth was dry with the bandages. The women had all crowded round to help truss me up and they were all getting in each others way. My right leg slipped and caught Margaret on the head, and I thought my hip would crack. But I was just heaved back up again and they pulled the straps tight. Then they let go of me and I just slipped down and hung there – I’d got my wrists strapped together in the middle of the beam and my legs stretched wide either side. All these women, and Jennifer, getting to see my todger was bad enough, but the way they’d got me hung up was spreading my arse wide open. They were getting a good display of everything I got.
I didn’t get paint or trifle or anything like that. Joyce got a plastic swat they’d got stuck behind one of the pipes and came over and started swatting my arse with it. It wasn’t that hard, but it stung. The women all took turns swatting my bare arse. It wasn’t too bad at first but as they kept hitting the same spot it started getting dead sore. They let Jennifer go last. I thought that was as humiliating as it could get, the girl I worked next to, me strung up naked with my arse spread, and her swatting my bare cheeks. Then she reached over and laid a couple of whacks on my bollocks. I must’ve really winced and squirmed cos the women all started laughing and egging Jennifer on. Joyce came over and undid my ankles so I thought it was over. She lowered my legs but still left me hanging my my wrists. I was still helpless. The Jennifer starts whacking me on my knob. “Give him a good one from me” said Debs, “right on the end.” Jennifer gave the swat to Joyce and she started whacking me. It just stung so fucking much. My eyes filled up. I tried not to let go but I couldn’t and I started sniffling. “Aah, he’s crying” said the fat girl, “What a fucking shame. Give me that.” She took the swat off Joyce and really started slapping my knob with it, “Squirm, you stuck-up little sod, let’s see you squirm.” She whacked me from underneath on my nads.
They reckoned I’d had enough and unstrapped my wrists. I couldn’t move. I felt totally humiliated. I didn’t even resist when Joyce strapped my hands behind my back. I saw my t-shirt lying in the dirt, but I didn’t give a fuck anymore. Joyce looped a long luggage strap round my neck and tied it loosely, then handed the other end to Jennifer. “Come on” she said “time for walkies”. I had to follow her up the steps like on a leash. The light made my eyes squint. Jennifer tugged on the strap round my neck and I followed her across the store room and into the canteen. It was the ladie’s dinner hour. There was a big cheer when Jennifer led me in, totally bollock naked. She paraded me once round the room while the women whooped and cheered and threw chips at me. When they’d all had a good laugh, Jennifer ripped the tape of my mouth and I spit the ball of bandage out. Joyce unstrapped my wrists and Margaret handed me my clothes and my Nikes in a bundle. I didn’t say anything, I ran straight off to the men’s showers.
When I came to get dressed, I couldn’t find my Calvins. I couldn’t face going back down to the boiler room so I decided I’d save up for a new pair. I had to go in the next day but I dreaded it. I didn’t speak to anybody and couldn’t look any of the women in the eye.
Then I saw it. Jennifer had got my pants hanging on the top of her press, like a trophy. I only had two days and I’d be out of there. I’d been through it all and that was the end. I’d never have to see the women again.
I thought.

I’d had my ragging at the hands of the women in the print shop and that was the end of it. I was glad to get out and into the poster design department. It was all men in design, and we hardly saw the women cos they had their dinners the hour before us. I’d been there about six months when this new guy joined. He’d been to art school so everybody called him ‘College’, but his real name was Dean. He was a bit weird, hair in a ponytail and dead quiet but when you got to know him he wasn’t stuck up at all. He was pretty cool and had a wicked sense of humour. He’d done his week in all the other departments and hadn’t got ragged, I think because they showed him a bit of respect. We all thought he was different from the rest of us, and I was glad he hadn’t had to go through all that.
It was about this time my locker got bust. I didn’t think anything of it cos there was nothing valuable in there, and nobody nicked stuff out of lockers anyway. I kept my tech drawing stuff with me and took it home, so all I had in there was some old magazines Dekker gave me. They were really old 80s stuff with big hair so he was fed up of them but I couldn’t keep stuff like that at home with my mum cleaning my room so I was grateful for all I could get. I was really pissed off when they disappeared but I couldn’t make a big deal of it without looking a real sadso.
The same time, Margaret comes up to the poster shop, which was really unusual. It was the first time I’d properly seen her since I’d been ragged and it was dead embarrassing, cos I knew she’d seen me naked, so I mooched off to the layout tables to avoid her. But I heard her asking Dean to help her move some boxes in the boiler room. I knew what that meant and I felt bad I couldn’t warn him. I don’t think he had any idea that sort of thing went on and he looked really keen to help. He was a pretty cool guy and I didn’t want all that stuff done to him but there wasn’t anything I could do and I watched him go off with her.
It was about half an hour after that Joyce turns up, and has a word with Dennis, our supervisor. He comes over and says that they need more help shifting boxes of old plates and can I give them a hand. I knew I was fucked. If Joyce had come to me I could’ve made an excuse, but when Dennis tells you, you jump. I felt sick. I didn’t know what was going on cos I’d already had my turn. Remembering what happened the last time I went down to the boiler room, I felt sick. I thought maybe Dean had freaked and they wanted another guy to look after him.
It was the same old story when I went down the steps. It’s dark and smells of damp and I started getting flashbacks to the time before. I knew it was trouble. All the women were there again and I felt my mouth had gone dry. Then I saw Dean. He was crouched in a corner, bollock naked. I felt really sorry for him. He looked completely out of it with his arms over his head and curled up. I remember being surprised how muscly his body was cos he was so skinny. Now he looked pathetic.
Next thing I know, it’s Joyce standing in front of me and she’s waving this magazine about, one that was pinched out of my locker.
She’s ranting on and I don’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. I was more concerned about getting Dean his clothes back and getting the fuck out of the boiler room. But Joyce is shoving this old mag in my face, it’s bog-standard stuff with two women pulling faces and snogging each other. Then there’s some pictures of one of them sticking her tongue out and pretending to lick the other one and it’s obvious they’re miles apart but you know what they’re supposed to be doing.
“Do you think women enjoy doing this?” says Joyce, and I have to admit I’d never thought about it, but I’ve got more sense than to say so.
They’re crap pictures I hadn’t even looked at. There’s at least two women in this mag I’d wanked myself sore over and she’s shoving me this pair of dorks like I’d taken the pictures myself. I didn’t say anything.
“You leave this stuff around. It’s disgusting. Spose Jennifer saw something like this?”
I thought, but this was nicked out of my locker.
Joyce just carries on: “It’s about time you lads learned a bit of respect.”
I heard Jennifer giggle a bit.
“Let’s see how you like it” says Joyce, “get your clothes off.”
I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t about to strip off there and then in front of the women. I made a dash for it but I only got as far a the foot of the steps before two of the women had grabbed me. I reckon there must have been eight or nine of them in all.
“You know we can do it” says Joyce, “ we was only having a laugh last time.”
It’s Margaret and one of the women from the kitchen holding my arms. I tried to pull away but they’d got me firm in their grip. The more I struggled the more humiliating it felt, not being able to get loose from two women.
“Now are you going to get them clothes off or do I have to do it for you?” says Joyce. Before I could stop myself, I’d said “Fuck off!” and regretted it straightaway.
“We’ll have less language, young man” says Joyce and she slaps me round the face real hard. I was stunned, and I knew they meant business. But there’s no way I was going to stand there and start stripping just like that. I remembered what happened the last time, and I thought, well I’ve been through this once, they can do what they fucking well like.
The two women dragged me to the back of the boiler room where there’s this big workbench and pushed me onto it. Another one of the women grabbed my ankles and before I could do anything they’d got me lifted up and laid out on the bench.
I didn’t struggle any more cos it was useless, but I didn’t help them either. While they’re holding me down, Joyce starts unbuttoning my shirt and I can feel somebody else undoing my trainers. They sat me up on the bench and Joyce pulled my shirt right off and throws it onto the floor. Then she unzips my jeans. I wear them real baggy, so they came of easy, and I see it’s Jennifer, who used to work on the next press to me, that’s pulling them off. And it’s Jennifer pulls my pants down as well. Now I’m stretched out bollock naked. They’ve even pulled my socks off. I try not to look but I can’t help catching a glimpse. There’s not as many women as I thought there was, but they’re all craning their necks to look at me and I get worried in case I start getting a hard on.
That’s when I heard all this commotion. I can’t see what’s going on cos I’m being held down, but I was right that there was more women than I could see. There’s this big crash and the bench I’m on bangs against the wall and something heavy is on top of me. It’s another body, struggling. I can’t make out what’s going on cos there’s legs everywhere digging into me and everybody’s flailing about and there’s a lot of laughing, really loud. I realise it’s men’s legs banging into me, and that they’ve dumped Dean on top of me.
That’s when I started to feel sick cos I knew what they were up to. There’s hands all over me, it feels like I’m being held down by ten people, and me and Dean are both getting pushed around on the bench. I can feel splinters sticking in my bare arse and my face is getting pressed into one of Dean’s legs.
Somebody’s grabbed hold of my hair and is yanking my head back. I can hardly breathe. I can’t move my arms from my side. It’s scary being so helpless.
I’ve been rolled over on my side and I can hear Joyce’s voice saying something. I can tell from the tone that she’s saying do something but I can’t make the words out. There’s a real slap on my arse, and I mean a real slap. Somebody isn’t joking. It makes my eyes water. I can hear Joyce again but there’s so much noise and struggling I don’t know what she’s saying.
I can feel somebody pushing their fingers in my mouth and it’s horrible. It reminds me of the dentist, tasting somebody else’s fingers in your mouth. She’s trying to prise my mouth open. I have to give in and open my mouth cos it feels like I’m choking. Somebody’s got hold of my dick as well and is pulling on it, hard. I screwed my eyes up and tried to blank it all out. Just let it be over.
There’s a hand on the back of my head and it’s pushing my face down and there’s something in my mouth. I can’t move my head and now I start to struggle cos I know what they’re doing. I can smell sweat and my face is being pushed so fucking hard into somebody’s crotch and they’ve put Dean’s fucking dick in my mouth. Somebody keeps pushing and pushing and I can’t get my breath. There’s something in my mouth and I don’t want to think about it. I’m trying to hold it with my lips and keep my tongue away from it and I can feel myself gagging. It’s this weird sensation even though I’ve got my eyes screwed up, I can smell this smell and I know it’s somebody else’s crotch and it’s a bloke’s. There’s hands on my arse as well, pushing my hips forward and somebody’s holding my knob.
It feels like somebody’s head is getting pushed between my legs. I know what’s happening. I know they’re pushing my dick in Dean’s mouth. Then I feel it, warm and wet on my knob and there’s one last big push on my arse and all the struggling and the noise stops. They’ve got us both. It’s suddenly gone all quiet and calm, like when you’ve done something and you know you’ve gone too far. They’re still holding us both real hard but the pushing and shoving has stopped. I don’t open my eyes.
“Well, how do you like it?” says this voice. I know it’s Joyce and I know it’s Joyce’s hand pressing my head in Dean’s crotch cos when she speaks she pushes and pushes harder. “You’ve had enough of the fun. It’s time you lads gave us women some entertainment.”
“They always have it they own way” says somebody else.
Whoever’s holding Dean’s head starts pushing it and pushing it so it feels like he’s pumping on my dick. I was getting really freaked because I wasn’t very experienced. I mean, not really at all apart from feeling tits a couple of times and Annette at school letting me put a finger up her. But I’d never been sucked before, not by anybody, and I know it was a bloke but feeling my dick in somebody’s mouth, in anybody’s mouth, started giving me a stiffy.
I was really scared cos of what they’d think. But you know what it’s like when the more you want to get it soft it just gets harder. I was getting a real solid fucking boner and the harder it got the better it felt in this mouth.
I started trying to push it in as far as I could and hope the women couldn’t see what was happening but I heard this fucking great whoop and they all start laughing.
It was a fucking nightmare cos I’d got Dean’s dick in my mouth and it was soft as anything and now mine was standing up rock hard.
“We know what he likes” says one of the women and they’re all laughing and I’m getting so fucking mad because I know it’s only the way it feels and I know all the stories that’ll be going round.
OK it gets real embarrassing. It’s Jennifer that’s pushing Dean’s head and she’s got her other hand on my arse, really making him suck me. I know cos I can hear her and she’s getting so fucking turned on by it. I’m trying to think of anything to get soft but my dick is getting pushed in and out, in and out, and I know it’s Jennifer doing it.
They start slapping our arses and cheering.
“Come on, let’s see a bit of enthusiasm” says one, “give it some, you bone idle bastard”
We’re really getting our heads pushed now. The women are starting to get into it for real.
In the end I can’t help it and I let go and feel myself shoot a load. I felt Dean shudder and try to writhe away, but the women had got us both firm. I felt so fucking sorry for him. OK, I was embarrassed, but he was getting worse than me. I could hear him retching. I wanted to say I was sorry but there was nothing I could do.
The women let us go. We were both too fucking humiliated to do anything. We just lay there. I could hear Dean spitting but I still didn’t open my eyes. I was too fucking embarrassed. I couldn’t look these women in the eye.
They’d let go of me and I automatically put my hands over my dick. Cos he hadn’t cum they were making Dean wank himself off in front of them. He must’ve been really soft cos it took forever, but I was just grateful I could lie there covering myself and nobody doing anything to me.
In the end they let us sit up on the bench. Joyce was standing in front of us with hands on her hips looking so fucking cocky and smirking. I wanted to thump her. I didn’t want to look but I couldn’t help it. Jennifer was stood next to her, grinning and chewing on the ends of her hair.
“Now you lads know what it feels like.”
We both nodded, but we didn’t give a fuck really. I just wanted to get out of there. Joyce made us apologise to Jennifer before she’d let us get dressed. It was all a joke, just to make us look stupid.
It was while we were apologising, this was the first time I looked up, I saw Margaret was holding this fucking video camera. I couldn’t believe it. They’d got the whole fucking humiliating scene on tape like it was a fucking holiday video.
I remember looking up at the lights and praying. There was only two sixty watt bulbs down there, so they’d never be able to see anything. I hoped.