Confessions Of A Mailgirl Ch 12

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF MAILGIRL NINE

I awoke before the alarm and slipped quietly out of bed being careful not to wake Anna. After a stop in the bathroom to pee, run a brush through my hair, and brush my teeth, I padded out into the kitchen to make breakfast. I was nude, of course, as I always was and by the time Anna appeared in the kitchen I had the morning meal prepared for her and on the table. I placed my own breakfast on the floor and kneeled down beside her to eat.

This morning ritual had begun fairly recently and was part of our evolving role-playing. Anna's fascination with the BDSM lifestyle had been growing over time but she was always nervous about going too far with me so this had been my suggestion. I'd reminded her of some of the things that had happened in Barbara's office and that my idea of "too far" was very different than hers. With Barbara there was no role-playing involved; domination and control were hard-wired into her system and my submissiveness was not optional. To Anna this was a game, though, and I felt it best to nudge her along slowly in allowing her to become the dominant in our relationship. She was such an innately sweet girl that I sometimes felt like a corrupting influence on her, but she seemed to genuinely enjoy playing the game. As long as that was the case I wanted to keep gently pushing her to take greater control of me.

After we'd finished eating I placed the dirty dishes in the sink and followed Anna into the bedroom. We entered the large walk-in closet which featured a small but slowly expanding wardrobe of clothes, all of them hers. She selected the dress and shoes she wanted to wear on the walk to work, handed them to me, and I followed her back into the bedroom where I assisted in helping her get dressed. After a couple of minutes more of preparation we headed for the front door.

"It's raining out so I'll need a jacket and the umbrella, girl," Anna said in her best imperious voice. Neither of us liked the idea of addressing me as "Nine" or "slave" while we were role-playing so we'd settled on "girl" as an acceptable alternative.

"Yes ma'am," I replied as I retrieved them from the coat closet. There would be no jacket or umbrella for me. I'd be walking to work in the nude like I always did.

As we exited the condo I felt the chill in the fall air and the light rain made it even colder. I opened the umbrella and held it over Anna's head to keep her dry as I followed one step behind.

It had been several months since going through the two day crucible that began with me as a naked stage prop for Barbara's presentation and ended with a whipping in her office. Thankfully things had settled down since then or I'd be a complete basket case by now. That was Barbara's way, though. She'd hit me with intense periods of shock and awe to throw me off balance and rapidly expand my boundaries followed by relatively calm stretches to allow me to regain my equilibrium. Even during quieter times like this I still remained on edge wondering when the next journey through Barbara's spin cycle would begin.

The rain continued to fall and I began trembling as I followed Anna down the sidewalk toward the sprawling DDE complex ahead of us. It was only about a ten minute walk from the condo to the employee entrance so I figured I could handle all but the most severe winter weather conditions which were a rarity in this part of the country. If a bad winter storm did hit I wondered if Barbara would give me permission to wear a coat and shoes. So far the subject hadn't come up.

My nude walk to and from work had become a regular feature in the neighborhood and I'd heard that there were drivers who tried to time their commute to work past the DDE building to catch a glimpse of me. So far the local authorities hadn't shown any interest in trying to prevent me from doing it so I suppose this meant that the first phase of Barbara's plan to "test the waters" to gauge public reaction to nudity beyond DDE's walls had been a success. This only made me nervous, though, wondering what she might have in mind next.

I lowered the umbrella as we walked through the doors of the employee entrance and was grateful to feel the warm air on my bare wet skin. Pop music was playing over the speakers and in the center of the lobby a beautiful nude woman danced in rhythm to it. This had been another of Barbara's innovations. Each day a different mailgirl was assigned to dance naked in the lobby to greet employees as they showed up for work and today it was the very lovely Mailgirl Six, aka Sarah Thomason.

Sarah had previously been a tenth floor receptionist in the tower. Anna and I used to pass her regularly on our way to the executive lounge where I'd serve drinks to the company's top managers. I hadn't known it at the time but she'd developed a fascination with the two of us and the idea of working naked. When the company posted the internal job opening for new mailgirls no arm twisting or blackmail had been required to get her to apply. She'd walked her application into Donna Haverly's office herself. Barbara made the final decision on hires and Sarah's fresh faced girl-next-door looks and nearly flawless natural body must have made it an easy call for her. Sarah had an exhibitionist streak a mile wide and of the new crop of mailgirls she had probably adapted quickest to her new role. She flashed a smile at us as we walked past her toward the stairs.

Anna and I climbed to the fifth floor of the north wing then entered the service corridor that led to the Mailgirls locker room. This path was the lone area of the large complex that mailgirls were allowed to wear any clothes and only immediately before and after their shifts. The old locker room in the basement of the tower had been closed so this was now the only one in use.

Now that there was a full complement of twenty-four mailgirls, shifts were staggered to maximize efficiency. As we entered the room two of the girls were already in "uniform" and ready to depart for the tower where their job was to place fresh fruit and newspapers in the offices of the top executives before they arrived for the day. One of the two girls was my ex-friend Stephanie and she glanced at me briefly as I entered before turning away. The two of us had barely spoken since that day she'd been forced into becoming a mailgirl. I'd tried to reach out to her several times to clear the air but Stephanie wanted none of it. I'd heard second hand that her first trip back to the Marketing department as a nude inferior had been hard on her and she'd broken down into tears in front of her former colleagues. I suppose that should have made me happy after what she'd done to me on my first trip back there, but it didn't. If anyone could understand what she'd gone through it was me.

The role-playing game that Anna and I played always ended as soon as we reached the locker room where we became equals again. Anna threw her arms around me and gave me a hug as we arrived at her locker. "Living the dream," she smiled. Usually when someone says that it's meant ironically, but for her she really was living the dream. I doubt anyone could love being a mailgirl more than Anna. A couple of days a week she was assigned to help Donna with administrative duties, a task she didn't like nearly as much. Today she was getting to run the mail, though, which made her happy.

The locker room was buzzing with activity this morning as the large group of mailgirls prepared for their shift. This was the one place in the building where we were all considered equals so there was a lot of chatting and banter going on. The unusual nature of our job and the knowledge that once we left the room we'd have to adopt a subservient attitude to everyone else helped bond us together. That's not to say that there was no petty jealousy, cattiness or cliquishness - we were women after all - but it wasn't nearly as pronounced as I'd seen in other situations when a bunch of females are thrown together.

Barbara hadn't discriminated based on race, creed, or bust size in hiring so we were an interesting mix of women, each with our own story to tell about how we ended up here. One thing we did all have in common was natural beauty. There were no fake boobs, tramp stamps, purple hair, mohawks, or nose piercings. Barbara might accept a woman with a small, inconspicuous tattoo like Stephanie's but that was about it. Cup sizes ranged from A to DD but the breasts were all natural and all of the women had fit, attractive bodies and pretty faces.

Besides Anna, Kelly, Stephanie, and me, nine other women had come from within the ranks of DDE employees making a total of thirteen from in house. The rest were from outside the company and it was surprising to me how many women had applied. With so many to choose from it hadn't taken Barbara and Donna long to fill out the ranks with exceptionally attractive women.

Next to my locker disrobing and gabbing to each other in Spanish were the very pretty Gonzalez twins, also known as Ten and Eleven. Maria and Gabriela were Mexican and had been on DDE's night cleaning crew. One night their manager suggested they should consider applying to become mailgirls or he might take a closer look at the authenticity of their documentation to determine if they were actually legal to work in this country. They quickly accepted the suggestion. The two of them seemed to be handling everything okay despite the fact that neither spoke much English.

The Gonzalez twins weren't the only family act in DDE's Mailgirls program though. Together in the showers right now were Fifteen and Sixteen - Sasha Gutheridge, the oldest mailgirl at 36, and her 18-year-old daughter April. Sasha looked more like April's older sister than her mother and the two of them quickly became fan favorites of the Gangsta crew on the other side of the two-way mirror during the morning shower sessions. To say they had an unusual story was an understatement.

Sasha's husband had been a successful real estate broker until he suddenly quit his job, left his family, and joined a cult that had a compound just outside of the city. To make things worse he drained their bank accounts and sold off all of their investments, then donated it all to the cult in exchange for a promise of Everlasting Divinity, whatever the hell that is. Sasha had been working as a fitness trainer at a local gym which provided her with a toned body but not much income to pay the mortgage or any of the other debts her husband had left her saddled with. She was on the verge of declaring bankruptcy when a friend who worked at DDE told her about the new Mailgirls openings and the large bonuses and salary the company was offering.

It was Sasha who had talked her daughter into applying for the job with her in order to earn money for college and double the bonus money that could be used to help stave off creditors. April, a beautiful but introverted girl, had been mortified by the idea of working naked with her mother but had finally consented to at least go to the job interview with her. When Barbara offered Sasha a contract but only if her daughter came along as a package deal, April felt like she had no choice but to do it. Even after over a month on the job she was still very embarrassed by the "totally weird" situation she found herself in.

For her part, Sasha didn't seem too bothered by either her own nudity or the fact that her shy daughter now had to shower and shave her pussy in front of both her mother and a bunch of leering men. The recent discovery that Sasha had another beautiful daughter a year younger than April who was a high school senior had created quite a buzz on the Gangsta floor, according to Lin. There was a lot of hopeful speculation that she might also join the family business next year after turning eighteen.

As I walked toward the shower area I saw Kelly already in it down at the far end so I joined her beneath the adjacent shower head. "Hey," she said as she saw me approach.

"What's up, Kell?"

"Living the dream," she replied very ironically. Kelly had been glad to see an influx of new "talent" into the Mailgirls program since it helped keep her off of Barbara's radar. She hated Barbara but had wisely learned to keep her mouth shut about it, at least at work. "I saw Dear Leader on television again last night," she said, referring to Barbara.

"Oh yeah? Which show?" I asked.

"Bill O'Reilly."

"Ah, I didn't see it. How did she do?"

"Same as always. She made Mailgirls seem like the best thing to happen for women since the invention of the battery powered vibrator."

Barbara had been on television a lot lately. Not everything had gone smoothly in the transition to a larger Mailgirls staff. Of the twenty-four mailgirls under contract after the hiring was over, six had tried to quit within the first few weeks after discovering that the humiliation and physical demands involved in the job were much greater than they'd expected. DDE and its lawyers immediately took legal action against each of them demanding repayment of the bonus money plus interest and penalties owed the company under the terms of the contract. Five of them had eventually returned to the job after realizing it would cost them a fortune in legal fees to fight back against a corporation with deep pockets and with no guarantee of winning.

The sixth girl, however, had shown up at a press conference held by a feminist group called United American Women with well-known feminist attorney Jennifer Erickson at her side. Erickson called the Mailgirls contracts "a form of legalized slavery" and announced a lawsuit against DDE with the aid of funding by UAW. Barbara was convinced that the girl had been planted by UAW to allow them to sue DDE over its Mailgirls program.

All of this had once again reignited the Mailgirls controversy in the national media, but if the United American Women thought this would deter DDE in any way they sorely underestimated both the company and Barbara Anderson. A new mailgirl was quickly hired to fill the vacancy while Barbara went on a media counteroffensive, appearing on numerous television news programs and talk shows to defend the company and the Mailgirls program. Her combination of beauty, fearlessness, intelligence, and charisma quickly turned her into the face of the Mailgirls program and made her a rising media star. Meanwhile the renewed firestorm had only boosted sales of DDE games and films, and the company's willingness to fight the "Ugly Angry Witches" of UAW for the right of naked women to deliver stuff was cheered on by the company's predominately male core demographic.

"Did they show the 'sexual energy' clip on the show?" I asked.

"Of course," Kelly replied.

A video of Barbara's presentation featuring me nude on stage had been made available to all DDE employees so it had taken about two nanoseconds before the whole thing ended up uncensored on the internet. Thankfully my onstage orgasm had been edited out before its internal release although I doubt that had anything to do with sparing me from further humiliation. Barbara probably thought it would be a distraction from her message.

The part of the speech the media seemed most interested in was Barbara talking about employees tapping into the sexual energy created by mailgirls, so whenever she appeared on a show that was the clip that was frequently shown. My naughty bits were usually blurred in it but occasionally it would be shown uncensored in foreign news or in online media. Personally I would have preferred that they blur my face.

Barbara, unsurprisingly, never backed down or apologized for anything she'd said that day. I'm sure she knew the video would end up on the internet and the notoriety of it gave her the opportunity to talk about Mailgirls and expand on her philosophy to a national audience. There were also many media requests for interviews with "Mailgirl Nine" but thankfully Barbara had rejected them all. I had no desire for any more attention than I was already getting.

As I soaped up my body I was conscious as always of the audience on the other side of the mirror. Anna entered the shower next to mine and the three of us "old salts," as Kelly called us, prepared for our shift together.

THE MAILROOM

As I sat on the bench waiting to make my first run of the day I felt the nervous energy building as it always did each morning as I waited to be called out. Even after months as a mailgirl I still hadn't gotten used to being nude in an otherwise normal business environment. To be honest, I didn't ever want to get used to it. I never wanted to become jaded or blasé about public nudity or ever lose the feeling that I was living beyond the boundaries of contemporary American society. I still felt shame, embarrassment, and humiliation and I didn't want those feelings to go away because they made me feel more alive now than I'd ever felt when all my focus had been on my next pay raise, my next promotion, striving for that office high in the tower.

The MMU strapped to my arm came alive and I glanced at it as I rose to my feet. I was being summoned to the mailroom in the south wing. I exited the locker room, then walked briskly through the service corridor to the stairwell and descended down five flights of stairs to the ground floor. From there I entered a door taking me into an empty corridor that bypassed the employee entrance lobby and led to a heavy fire door on the other end.

Up to this point I'd seen almost no one, but when I entered that door I was suddenly in a busy office environment that was alive with activity. I walked briskly past the "norms," as Kelly called the regular employees, and toward the exit to the courtyard. The quickest path to the mailroom was through the courtyard to the south wing, but when I opened the exit door I saw that the light early morning rain had turned to a downpour. Since I was freshly showered I had no desire to get drenched on my first run of the day. I checked my MMU and saw I had less than three minutes left to make my deadline. I made a quick decision to take the long way around through the east wing. It would be tight but I thought I could make it.

I began to run now, past desks, cubicles, offices, down corridors, and through doors. With each step my breasts bounced uncomfortably but the raw, primitive feel of it made me feel like a large cat bounding through the jungle after its prey. In this case the prey was only a deadline but I still felt the thrill of the chase.

As I entered the doorway into the mailroom my MMU flashed red. I was nineteen seconds late. Shit. That would cost me two demerits. Not the way I wanted to start the day.

The original purpose of Mailgirls, at least as envisioned by Mr. Hiromoto, was to use nude women to make inter-departmental deliveries. The normal mail coming into and out of the building was handled by the regular mailroom staff. Barbara, being nothing if not ambitious, had decided that mailgirls should eventually handle every piece of correspondence that moved through the building which meant transitioning the DDE mailroom into a Mailgirls operation. This transition had already begun which meant that being summoned to the mailroom was a fairly common occurrence, especially in the morning.

"It'll be a few minutes so grab a knee," said Rick Delaney, the manager of DDE's mailroom as his eyes wandered over my body. The clothed mailroom staff was busy filling several carts with letters and packages that nude mailgirls would then wheel through the large complex to deliver to various departments. I walked over to the Mailgirls pad to kneel and found Mailgirl Twelve, Brianna Bell, also waiting there.

"Hey Brianna," I said as I kneeled down next to her. Mailgirls were allowed to call each other by name since they were the only people in the building considered equals. Brianna was a beautiful African-American woman with a dancer's body and small but firm breasts.