FACTORY GIRLS
by Plowjack - written for DTM / Amy's Conquest



*** The Below is an extended segment from this story, written for us by the
Legendary Plowjack, whose other stories you can read here on Diana The
Valkyrie.

For the Full Story of Factory Girls, please visit our Member's Section at
Amy's Conquest (www.amysconquest.com). Thanks all, and as always, hope you
Enjoy! ***

********************

March is a nasty month to work outside. When I was just out of college I
worked for a while at some door-to-door fund-raising effort. It was
hump-busting, but still verbal and political, sort-of, and involved plenty of
drinking and carousing with the college-aged crew. Still it was outdoor work,
some of the time, door-to-door campaigning. I found myself out with my boss on
a particularly nasty march night.

The temperature couldn't have been higher than 38F - just enough to keep the
pounding rain from softening into snow. I was out with my boss - or my
immediate supervisor, anyway, who was mostly just another Joe like me. We
spent a couple of hours canvassing a modestly prosperous neighbourhood, until
we were nearly soaked through even with decent coats and hats. The spring rain
just worked its way in. When the lights of a neighbourhood tavern came into
view, it took about three seconds for us to agree to get warm and dry.

The bar was perfectly ordinary, a working-class roadhouse with a central bar
and booths, a pool-table and a small, empty stage. It was Tuesday night, so
there were about six people in the bar, two couples in booths, two old dudes
at the bar. Dave and I stripped off our dripping coats and hung them next to
the door as the bartender said hello. I brushed my long damp hair out of my
eyes - Dave had cut his a couple of weeks ago, hoping for better work, so he
just dog-shook his head. One look at each other and it was shot-and-a-beer
time. The job was probably over for the night.

We toasted each other with a Jack Daniels chased by a cheap American beer.
Pooling our money on the bar we had enough for maybe another round. We ordered
the round, but when it came the bartender pointed at the other end of the bar,
where two big women were handing over cash to pay for the drinks. The one who
wasn't taking the change looked up and smiled at us. She was tall and thick,
wearing a heavy knit sweater that fit snuggly over obvious big curves. Her
friend was shorter but wider, with a huge head of black hair, while
sweater-girl was a red-head, this week. The color didn't look much more than a
week old.

The two sauntered over to us. I stand about 6' tall, but Dave is only about
5'7". He actually works out, of course. I mostly don't. I'm tall and skinny to
Dave's short and stocky. The two women were tall and thick. The black-haired
girl was probably 5'9", and was wearing modest heels. The red-head was
probably 5'10" and was in three-inch boots, laced around her rather huge
calves, her thick thighs wrapped in riveted denim. Both women had huge bosoms,
carried on thick frames with wide shoulders.

"Hi Guys", they said, and introduced themselves as Janet (the redhead) and
Jacqui.

"Funny, huh, both J girls," Jacqui joked, and sat down next to Dave. As Janet
sat down by me I noticed that she was probably a few years older than me, but
she looked good - her skin was soft and clear, her eyes bright, her mouth full
over a square jaw.

I thanked her for the drink, and she called for another for herself. The
bartender brought us both double shots of scotch. Janet gave me bottoms up and
I tipped it back with her, not wanted to be slower than this chick. She smiled
and called for another.

"Hey, you trying to get me drunk?" I joked. Janet actually looked great when
she laughed, her face warm and pretty.

"Oh yeah," she said, and winked. The bartender brought another shot-and beer
combo. This time she picked up the beer and raised the glass to me.

"Here's to Tuesday night parties," she toasted. We clinked, and drank more
slowly.

We talked for a while, and Janet explained that the women worked at a nearby
auto manufacturing plant. They were on the same shift and had just begun a
two-day mid-week 'weekend'. I talked about my activist work, and Janet seemed
interested, letting herself drift closer as we talked. It didn't take long for
her to cover the back of my hand with hers. Her hand was big, square and
veiny. My fingers were longer than hers, but only barely.

"Your hand is still cold, dude," she said, rubbing her hand on mine. She
picked up my hand and rubbed it between hers, "Mmmm, soft too," she murmured.
My hand felt like putty in her two hands as she played with it.

"Here," she said, and pulled my hand up and rested it just in front of her
armpit on her wool sweater. She was in fact nice and warm, and she pressed my
hand into the side of her huge breast. She smiled and looked me in the eyes as
she jiggled her breast, my hand between hers and the melon-sized, heavy mound
of flesh. She pulled me a little closer, almost pulling me from the stool, and
pressed my wrist under her arm against her ribs with her upper arm.

"There, nice and warm" she smiled, gripping my upper arm as she pressed my
wrist against her.

"Gotcha," she chuckled, and stepped into me for a kiss. Standing, and me still
on the stool, she was taller than me, and my lips turned up to hers as she
kissed me hard. Then her hand was behind my head, pressing me into her. She
kissed me for what must have been more than a minute, her tongue working my
mouth. Her other arm went around my back and she pressed us together. Really,
she pressed me against her - I don't think she moved as I was pressed into her
thick chest.

"Very nice," she said as she pulled away, kissing my lips gently again as she
released me. She put one of her big hands against the side of my cheek. Her
hand warm but the skin on her palm and fingers felt a little rough.

"And you're so pale and white," she said quietly, as though that were a good
thing. I felt myself blush, and she chuckled and kissed me lightly.

"Hey, it's March", I said. "I'll be a little less ghostly after I've gotten
some spring sun."

"But you're so cute," she cooed, and ran her hand down my back, "C'mere," she
murmured, and pressed my lower back into her. This time I totally came off the
barstool, and was pressed against Janet's torso. My feet were barely on the
floor as she pulled me tightly to her, my right arm still tucked under her
left, her left hand now also snaking around my back. Suddenly her arms
tightened and my feet really did leave the floor, as Janet leaned backward and
lifted me against her huge chest.

"Hey," I exclaimed, and struggled, trying to push myself away. She giggled,
and wrapped one arm around my ass, pressing my hips against her waist.

"Hold still, cutie," she said, and pulled my head down to hers, pressing my
lips to hers and holding me hard as she pushed her tongue into my mouth. My
protests became garbled moans as she kissed me, and I pressed against her
shoulders with my hands. Her upper body was rock-hard, just a little flesh
padding thick, rippling muscle in her shoulders. My hands tried her upper
chest, but that was just as solid, swelling even harder as she pressed me to
her.

Soon I was short on air. My struggles became weaker, but Janet's grip remained
as solid as ever, my feet still dangling a few inches from the floor, my body
draped over her bosom. My hands found her breasts, and she purred a little as
she continued to kiss me hard. Then she set me on my feet, released me, and
returned to her drink.

"That was nice," she said, reaching out to cover my hand with hers, "and
you've warmed up."

I laughed a little and straightened my shirt, sitting down next to her. My
whiskey was empty but I knocked back my beer. Janet signalled the bartender
and another appeared in front of us both.

"Let me get this one," I volunteered, deciding to let Janet's outrageous
behaviour pass unmentioned for now.

"Don't you worry about it, sweetie," Janet said, catching my wrist as I
reached for my wallet, "you just let Janet take care of you tonight." With
steady force she pulled my hand back and pressed it to the bar. I didn't
exactly resist, but her tight grip and steady pressure made me balk, trying to
twist away.

"I said no, dude," she said more firmly, and pressed my wrist to the bar,
smiling. The bartender arrived and Janet paid him.

"You just relax," the big woman said, stroking my hand with her fingers. "I
probably make twice what you do, and I'm probably twice as strong as you. This
is my little game."

"Stronger ... than ... " I stumbled, then threw back my shot, and sipped my
beer. Fortified, I tried again.

"You're very hot, Janet, and I appreciate you buying drinks. I bet you do make
a good buck at the factory. And ... I guess you're pretty strong ... "

She looked over at me with a frown, but I put a hand over hers, where it lay
over mine, and stroked its veiny back.

"So, what do you do?" I asked, covering her hand with mine, her hand was warm
and hard, broader than mine, and tan under my white skin.

"I'm a welder," she said, wrapping her fingers around my hand and squeezing
gently, "and I'm a gym rat. No way even a big woman like me is gonna keep up
at my job without some extra effort, so I lift heavy two or three days a
week."

Janet was one pretty woman. Her mouth was thick and sensual, even if her jaw
was a little square, and her eyes were large and green. Her red hair curled
around her face and shoulders. It was a pleasure just to watch her talk, and
her warm hand, sandwiched between mine, seemed intimate. I squeezed her hand
in turn.

"Wow, your hand is hard," I said, surprised.

"Mmm Hmm," she said, and lifted her hand, "I do a lot of heavy bag work - it's
good therapy, and it hardens up my hands. My fist is a rock."

She clenched her fist, and it seemed to flex and swell. She was right - I
squeezed her fist a little with one hand, and there was not the slightest
give.

"Squeeze harder, Jack," she teased, and I did, without result. She took my
hand between hers, and pressed it, with a little sound of pleasure.

"Here, let's try a trick I used to do with my Dad," she said. She opened her
fist, turning her palm up and spreading her fingers wide, "Try to press my
fingers closed."

Chuckling, I said okay and wrapped my fingers and thumb around her hand, my
thumb hooked around hers and my fingers around her pinky. I squeezed, and her
fingers didn't move. I little sound of surprise come out of me, and I squeezed
harder, and harder. Her pinky trembled a little, but I was simply unable to
close her fingers.

"Wow," I said, "OK, I'm using both hands." I added my other hand and I was
able to press her pinky in, and make a little progress, but still couldn't
completely close her fingers.

Janet chuckled in turn. "Ooo, very impressive," she teased, once again taking
my hands in hers, "come on, let's give it a try," she said, spreading my
fingers. I tensed my hand, and she gripped my fingers. Without hesitation she
pressed my fingers together. She released and we did it again. This time she
crushed my fingers together, and pressed my hand in her closed fingers.

"See," she said, low and sexy, "I'm very strong, and your hands are very
soft." She again pulled my hand to her bosom, and pressed it to her.

"I do have soft parts, too," she said, and I felt my cock swell in my pants.
Her tits really were huge; my hand covered just a little of the side of her
big breast. This time I took advantage. Pressing her flesh and feeling the
wide roundness, then lifting a little from below.

"Big and soft," I said smiling, and used both hands to lift her huge bosom.

"I'm big all over, baby," she purred, and grabbed my forearms to move my hands
downward. She pulled me firmly off the stool again, and into her chest as she
lowered my hands to her big butt. Her ass felt like two soccer balls, her hips
wider than mine by a good deal. She put her own feet on the floor, turning
toward me, and wrapped her arms around my lower back. Once again my arms were
outside of hers, trapping me in her hug. She pressed me to her, and kissed me
again. I ran my hands up her back, surprised at the width and thickness of her
back and shoulders. With her wide back and huge chest she was a serious armful
for me. I told her so, and she laughed out loud, and snuggled me close to her.
Her shoulders weren't really wider than mine, much, but her big body seemed to
surround me.

Janet paused, and seemed to look over her shoulder.

"Have a look," she said, tilting her head to indicate the door. I looked, and
there was Jacqui carrying my boss to the door in a cradle-carry. They were
both laughing and Dave was still waving a beer.

"Looks like it's time to go, Jackie boy," Janet said, "We have a half-gallon
of whiskey in the back of the truck - wanna go for a ride?"

Already wrapped in her arms, I whooped as she slipped an arm under my knees
and swung me into her arms, my feet dangling. I threw my arms around her neck,
both of us now laughing as she strode around the bar.

"G'night Janet," the barman called.

'G'night Vic," Janet replied, then kicked the front door open and carried me
through, catching it on her hip.

I was thrilled, really, with the direction this previously stupid night was
taking. If the boss was in, I was in - to hell with what passed for work. I
smooched Janet's cheek and she stopped and tightened her hold, pressing me
again the padding of her chest.

"My God you are strong," I said, awe in my voice. Her face lit up and she
bounced me in her arms.

"You," she said, walking again, "are not a serious armful. Do you like getting
a ride, little guy?"

"I like you, I think," I said, and meant it. Janet seemed both fun and more
than willing, and while I didn't usually do bar pick-ups I certainly wasn't
exploiting this woman. In fact ...

We caught up with Dave and Jacqui. They were sitting on the tailgate of a
fancy four-door pick-up truck with a camper cap, Dave in the big woman's lap.
Dave was obviously actually smaller than her, the big woman's hips and thighs
an easy seat. There was an odd little moment as we approached, and then all
four of us laughed out loud.

"OK, studs, get in the truck. Enjoy the whiskey, but we want you willing and
able when we get there," Jacqui rolled back and heaved Dave into the bed of
the truck, well-lined with padded rubber matting.

"Look at this, Jaq," Janet said, and actually extended me in front of her,
arms almost outstretched. "he's like a bag of rags, only sexy!" With a little
toss I landed in the truck-bed, and the girls slammed the tail-gate, closed
the top door of the cap, and turned the latches with a click. Before the two
of us could get a decent seat the truck roared out of the parking lot,
toppling us again. Our laughter mixed with a little annoyance, but I noticed
the heavy steel cooler in the corner. Crawling over, I found two-dozen beers
and a half-gallon of drinkable Tennessee whiskey on ice.

There's no real point in chronicling the conversation between Dave and me. We
were mildly dunk, embarrassed, flabbergasted and pretty much horn-dogged, the
smell of wild pussy firmly in our nostrils. We were careful with the whiskey,
and when we pulled to a stop we got a round of beers ready for the women. When
they opened the back, there we were with beers opened for them, smiling.

They laughed as we crawled out of the truck. The rain had stopped, and we
could see the clouds parting in the starry sky overhead. We were in a camp
ground high above the city, a beautiful moonlit view. The women were hauling
gear out of the back seat - it had been full of stuff, which explained the
tail-gate ride.

"Hey Jack, get that cooler, will ya?" Janet called, and I hopped into the
truck-bed. I could no more move that cooler than I could move a tree-stump.
Unable to stand, I hand to rely on upper-body leverage that just didn't do the
job. I called for Dave, and together we scraped it over the mats, getting it
onto the tail. The two of us got down, and prepared to hoist the big metal
ice-chest to the ground.

"Oh, I'm sorry, boys," Janet said, coming up between us, "I know that thing is
heavy."

"Right," Jacqui said, coming up too, "here, move that, Jan." Janet took the
two handles and lifted the ice-chest from the truck handily, though with a
little grunt, setting it down.

"Good," Jacqui continued, and put her hands under Dave's arms, "Why don't you
guys just sit right here," she hoisted him up onto the tailgate, his feet
dangling. She reached for me but I scrambled up on my own.

"And have a beer," Janet said, handing us fresh bottles, "while we get all
ready. You can talk to us."

I blushed, and started to stand up, but Janet put her hand on my chest.

"We really know how to do this, dude," she said, and so I sat back and watched
as the two set up a well-done camp. Using modern stuff they had a tent and
canopy up in under 20 minutes. With the rain gone, the temperature rose a bit,
and both women took off layers. Once they slowed down from the work, Jacqui
asked if one of us could make a fire.

Dave complied, and in a while there was a small blaze.

"Put some big logs around that so we can sit around," Janet asked, and once
again I was unable to do more than scoot one end of a log a foot or so, and
then scoot the other one. Dave brought a couple of small chunks over and sat
them on their end as stools, but I made myself out of breath trying to
manfully move a big 'couch' log.

"Move over string-bean," Jacqui bumped me aside with one big hip, making me
stumble. She chuckled as she bent down and handily pushed the log along to its
place by the fire.

"You guys really are pipsqueaks, aren't you," Jacqui said, striding up to me.
She was a little shorter than Janet, still as tall as me, and her broad
shoulders and huge chest were intimidating. She threw her arms around me and
lifted me from the ground, walking and spinning me around.

"You're right, Jan," she laughed. "He's like a sack of powder-puffs. At least
his buddy has some little muscles." She spun me around again, pressing me
tighter into her, hard against her big bosom.

"Hey, I have muscles, "I chuckled, as I began to struggle a little. It was
time to be put down! Jacqui stopped, and looked up at me in the eye, still
holding my feet off the ground.

"Yeah, where?" she asked, and put one hand on my ass, lifting me further into
her grasp. Her right arm continued to crush me against her, while her left
hand kneaded and stroked my ass. "Not in your ass. Your little booty is like
marshmallows." She increased the pressure around my back, her right hand
grabbing under my arm.

"Not in your back. I can smush you like a pillow." Now I was asking her to
stop, and pushing against her shoulders. My efforts seemed to have no effect,
except to make her giggle a little.

"Ooo, you're gonna be all squirmy?" she laughed. She carried me over to the
tail-gate of the truck. With a little hop she sat down, and swept my legs up
into her arm. Her hand gripped my thigh, squeezing it as she raised it,
tipping me backward into her lap. I was struggling now, feeling a little
afraid of this treatment, but she got one arm in her other hand and pressed me
into her grasp. With a smooth effort she swung one leg up and over me,
trapping my thighs between hers. She wrapped me in her arms, pinning my arms
to my sides, and crushed me against her bosom, as her legs shifted to press my
cock against her. My feet dangled above the ground as she sat on the tailgate.

"And not a trace of muscle in those little arms, is there," she purred,
crushing me into her chest. She still wore her thick denim jackets, but her
big bosom seemed hard as she pressed me against it, compressing my chest
between her arms. Her hands pressed my face to hers and she kissed me sweetly,
little kisses at first, then a crushing kiss when I responded.

As Jacqui worked my lips over I stopped struggling, responding to her hot
kisses. She murmured approval and pulled me tighter, until I felt like I was
contained between her breasts and arms. My cock was now rock hard in my pants,
uncomfortably sticking down my trouser-leg.

I heard Janet's low voice talking to Dan. At first they were both laughing, as
she asked him to 'show her those muscles', but soon Dan sounded less pleased,
then angry. The sounds of a scuffle concluded with Dan cursing and swearing
and calling Janet a big bitch.

"That's not going to go well for little Dannie," Jacqui chuckled. She reached
her right arm all the way round my body and gripped my own right forearm, then
released her left arm.

"There, one arm and your little body is still mine. C'mon, sweetie, fight me a
little - I like it," she drove her fingers into my belly, tickling hard, and I
cried out and honestly tried to escape. It was hopeless. Her hand tightened on
my arm painfully as I tried with all my might to pull away.

"Feel that little arm," she chuckled, her fingers kneading my forearm, meeting
around my skinny muscles, "like a tube of boiled noddles," her free hand
slipped down between us to grip my balls. My hard cock twitched and she took
it in her grip too.

"Now that's nice and solid," she purred, squeezing my package. I gasped as she
squeezed my balls a little too hard, and then I heard Dan's voice howl in
pain.

"Well, look at that," Jacqui laughed, and I looked up to see Dan sprawled over
Janet's lap as she sat on one of the log stools. His jeans were around his
ankles and Janet had him by the balls, pulling his ass into the air until his
face was almost on the ground. She began to spank his bare ass with her other
hand, the very first whack causing Dan to cry out in pain. Blow after blow
fell, and in a minute Dan was weeping openly, begging Janet to stop.

The thing that frightened me was the look on the big red-head's face. She
seemed to be utterly casual about her violence, unconcerned about Dan's
efforts to fight, simply doing as she pleased. As she continued to beat his
ass her cheeks flushed and her lips opened. After a minute she looked like
this was the most fun she had had that day. Her blows fell more heavily, until
she asked Dan if he was 'going to behave'. Sobbing, face red, he agreed, and
Janet rolled him from her legs so that he landed on the ground on his back.
She pinned one arm with a hand, and tugged his pants completely off.

"What the hell is this?" I growled, really struggling to escape Jacqui's grip,
"are you fucking crazy?" Her arms tightened around me, and then she twisted,
moving me easily, and got her legs around my waist.

"This," she said into my ear, as she tightened her arms around my chest, "Is
two horny women taking what we want from a couple of pretty little fellas."
Her arms felt like logs pressing me against her chest. I felt her flex, and my
chest just compressed between her forearms and her bosom. Air whooshed out of
my lungs and she chuckled as she increased the pressure. I could barely
breathe. I wheezed out a feeble voice, asking her to stop.

"I'll stop when I want to," she said, and then clamped her legs on my waist.
Air again rushed from my lungs, and her legs crushed me painfully. I moaned,
but had to stop struggling.

"See," she said, relieving the pressure of her legs, "You can't stop me. Feel
this, dude," she flexed her right arm next to me, still holding me with her
left and her legs. I grabbed her arm, and made a sound of surprise. Her arm
was huge. The biceps was like an orange, and her triceps made the bottom of
her arm feel like a pile of rocks.

"I've always had muscles, really," she said casually, flexing again in my
hand. Her muscles rippled like a bag of billiard balls, "squeeze harder, dude.
Don't be so weak." I took her biceps in my hand and squeezed, but didn't seem
to really make an impression. I was astonished - I'd never felt an arm like
that on anyone, man or woman! Not that I'd felt a lot of muscular arms, but
...

"Yeah," she said, and quickly grabbed my wrist, her long fingers easily
tightening all the way around. She pulled my arm away from her body, and shook
it hard, rattling my shoulder.

"Stop it!" I growled, and pulled at her grip. I pulled hard, trying to free my
wrist, but she just held on, still holding my arm extended, and she shook my
arm again.

"You stop it, stud," she chuckled, "you stop me from flapping your arm like a
rag." She shook me for another thirty seconds, ignoring my efforts to pull
away. I felt like a wet rope, my arm limp in her control.

**********

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