My name’s Tom, I am a manager at my Uncles factory, he is called George, aged 56. We make ladies underwear, lingerie, fun wear etc. My Uncle is basically – not a nice man, he takes great delight imposing his power upon others under him; he treats his work force (me included) like shit. Why stay working for him you might ask? I used to have my own business until things went bad, he bailed me out financially and now he holds the mortgage on my house, he owns the car I drive, and I am paying off money I borrowed from him. I dream that one day I will be able to break away, start my own business again but for now I need this job.
Late one Wednesday afternoon he called me into his office. He told me that he had two important buyers coming to see him on Friday, he was going to take them out for a ‘softening up’ dinner, then he intended to show them some of the new range we were currently working on. These guys represented the largest wholesalers in the country, they already dealt with us but if they liked the new range it would be worth a lot of money.
He said he wanted someone to model the range, someone who, as he put it would ‘try their hardest to achieve a big order’, someone who he could trust, and someone who had a lot to lose if the order didn’t happen. He had lost me, why was he telling me all this, what did he want me to do, model the range myself? He must have seen the puzzled look on my face, “I want Julie to model the range,” he said.
Julie is my wife; we have been married for 6 years. She is 28, tall, blonde and up until we got married she used to be a fashion / photographic model, she has still got her gorgeous figure and her sexy looks. When we first met she told me of her past, there was a time when she was short of money and briefly turned to glamour work to earn a living, sometimes posing with other girls and men for hardcore photos, I have some of the XXX magazines she appeared in and although I have never told her, I find them to be a big turn on.
I tried to tell him that Julie does not do modelling work anymore and would not be keen to start again, he looked at me with anger in his eyes, “let me put it this way Tom, if Julie does not do what I want you’re finished here, on the other hand, if she does and we get that order you can forget about the debt you owe me”. He knew I had no option, if I left now I would be ruined, bankrupt. “I will ask her tonight, it will be her decision”, I said.
(…)
Read the rest of The Undie Factory (3,207 words)
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