Mailgirls in Space

Pat Two is here already! This one is a bit longer and gets more into detail on what a day in the life of an Apollo Industries Mailgirl is like, as we introduce more girls. I'll be splitting focus on Six and Twelve going forward, although Six is still my main, Twelve is a kind of "Main B."

The response to Part One has been great so far, more than I could have ever hoped for(almost 2k views in a week is wild to me), I hope you like this, and I hope to get the next part started ASAP, but I am a college student, with a full-time job, and an athlete on the side, so it may start to slow down. My goal is going forward, one part per month. I'm having a ton of fun with this!

Mailgirls In Space, Part 2.

Monday:

It had been an interesting first week. The program seemed to be popular and had the desired effect. Regular employees seemed happier than ever, and productivity seemed to already be trending up. A few female employees quit, but mostly it looked good at Apollo. McKenzie and Brooke had investigated the mailgirl concept a bit on their weekend off. This seemed to be the trajectory back in the 21

st

Century, on Earth. They'd been particularly intrigued by the writings of Dr. Sarah Scott about her time as a mailgirl at US Financial, and all the good it eventually brought to her life. She'd even met her wife, formerly USF Mailgirl #7, when they worked together. USF was still around, even having offices on Orion Station. Also, she found out that it was the company McKenzie's sister worked for, although much later than Dr. Scott and Co had been there. The mailgirl program didn't come up to the station colonies with the company, however. Although maybe it would be back.

Brooke had also found the journal of a girl named Kirsten Allen, Mailgirl 12, at a firm called Cambridge Cain that had originated the concept in the United States.

If the regular Apollo employees were happy, it was at the expense of the mailgirls, who were increasingly becoming more and more miserable. Especially as it seemed the company was making changes to specifically make them miserable. A few changes had already dropped, and as Brooke got to work on Monday, there were already more in her inbox. She logged into her company email on her phone, as the girls had all made a habit of doing before stripping. The first new rules came on Wednesday:

Decree HC101A:

Mailgirls are no longer allowed to sit on chairs or other such furniture for sanitary purposes. Mats will be provided for kneeling throughout the station. Toilets are to be the only granted exception.

Decree HC101B:

Mailgirls must now leave stalls open while utilizing the toilet. For security and sanitation reasons.

Apparently one of the girls had dripped pussy all over someone's chair and that person threw a stink.... the stall doors were just another way to ensure they had even less privacy, none could imagine what "security and sanitation reasons" could necessitate only the mailgirls going to the bathroom without stall doors. Then on Thursday:

Decree HC102:

It has come to the attention of Human Capital that mailgirls have been referring to each other by their names and have been lax about making eye contact with superiors. These are both violations of the Mailgirl's code and will be punished with a slap to the cheek. Mailgirls are permitted to discipline other mailgirls for the use of other mailgirls' names. Mailgirls are only to be referred to by mailroom designation, e.g. "Mailroom Girl #," "Mailgirl #," "Girl #," or simply "#." Eye contact with non-mailgirls is only permitted with express permission of the non-mailgirl party, punishable by a slap on the cheek. Mailgirls are prohibited from speaking to superiors unless spoken to, punishable by a slap on the cheek.

So great, everyone gets to literally slap me around now. I love that,

Six had thought to herself while reading that. Quite a few slip-ups had happened on Friday, and all six of them had at least one cheek with a giant red handprint on it. That night, they all talked and decided to just refer to each other as their numbers, even off duty. So, Brooke was Six now, even to herself.

As she opened her email, she heard a sigh from Five at the locker next to her. She knew why pretty quickly:

Decree HC103:

We now have holo-balls for projecting hologram messages and tube holders for paper documents. These may be used at employee discretion. They are to be carried by mailgirls in their mouth only, without the use of hands.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK AM A GOLDEN RETRIEVER OR SOMETHING," Six screamed upon reading this news. "Like I know I have the hair color for it, and I'm cute, but do I look like a golden retriever?!"

"No, you look like a hot mailgirl," Four said from her locker as she was taking her shoes off. "But if you haven't noticed, mailgirl and pet are basically synonymous to most normies. You might as well be a dog to them."

She was right, unfortunately. Six pulled her hoodie off and hung it up on the coat rack. She slipped her sneakers off and put them in her cubby. "Yeah, well, I don't have to like it...."

"Oh my gosh," exclaimed Five. "Did you see the other email?! We're getting new girls, six more, they start this afternoon!"

"Oh great," quipped Six. "The more to share in the misery, the merrier."

=========================================================================

Jillian Mitchell started early this Monday. She had A LOT of work to do. Not only were they recruiting six new mailgirls today, but Davidson wanted a more extensive list of candidates by the end of the day as well. They had actually started on Friday, with three candidates lined up, the idea being to get them in training right away, first thing Monday morning. Unfortunately, having seen a week of mailgirls running around naked, being humiliated, being spanked, being slapped around, and relieving themselves (in more ways than one) in full view of an entire cafeteria and elevator lobby had made it seem less appealing to some of the women. The original Mailgirl #7 candidate had resigned on Tuesday morning, likely in protest of the program, but had begrudgingly agreed to stay on for the rest of the week. She quit on the spot when Jillian confronted her about staying with Apollo and joining the mailgirls. Jillian had a black eye all weekend from the girl punching her in the face. Security arrested her for that, and as far as Jillian knew, she was still rotting in a cell.

The original Mailgirl 4 was also in a holding cell. She was scheduled to be jettisoned to the surface today. Jillian was going to give her one more shot at reconsidering first. But that was still a blight on her record, according to Davidson.

As if two strikes weren't enough, she'd convinced a new Seven to join on Friday. Well, Seven didn't show up to work today and wasn't answering her cell. Davidson also considered that her fault, even though she'd found a replacement already. So, strike three.

Jillian sipped her coffee and stared at her computer. Seven and Eight were naked, kneeling in her office as she did so. Seven was beautiful. Long blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders, hazel eyes with the right amount of gold, slightly taller than Jillian, and unlike the earlier girls, not American. Her name was Valerie Marchand, she was 28, and she had been from Bordeaux, France, before coming to space. She was a social media manager in the marketing department.

Next to her was Eight, a low-level IT tech, Evelyne Wilson. She had been the tech who had fitted the girls with their smartwatches, so she'd seen the locker room, the girls, and part of the process firsthand. She also knew a lot about the app. This was why Davidson had wanted her recruited. At 23, she was the youngest, by a couple of years, but no doubt any less beautiful than her counterparts. She was from Calgary, had brown skin, black curly hair, dark eyes, about 5'7," and was the only black mailgirl, so far.

Davidson was in a meeting with Mistress Nul about something. Jillian just needed her to take Seven and Eight so she could go ahead and recruit the next girl. Jillian wondered what exactly that meeting was with Mistress Nul, and why it was taking so long.......

The airlock to the shuttle opened, and the pilot unlocked the six pet carriers in his cargo hold. A naked mailgirl crawled out of each one. The problem with riding in a cargo hauler was that there were no seatbelts in the cargo hold. So, after a few days, the girls had been issued pet carriers to ride over in, "for safety." They all doubted the "safety" part, of course. They slid around a ton during launch and docking. One's carrier had slammed right into Six's during launch and flipped her right over, so she rode most of the way upside down.

Six crawled out, stood up, and stretched. Just like Four had said, they were dogs. Human dogs. In all actuality, most owners treated their dogs better than this. She couldn't imagine the average dog owner spanking and slapping their dog the way she'd been this past week. "Ouch.... I'm sure, Mistress Nul will love these bruises from that one." She rubbed her left shoulder and right elbow.

"It's not that bad," Two said, rubbing her shoulder. "Just a little red." As the current oldest, Two had become the default "team mom" of the six girls. It was in her personality, anyway.

They didn't linger. They had to get moving and get ready. Technically, they started at 6 AM, getting breakrooms cleaned and stocked, and making coffee for the regular employees. Then at 7 AM, they delivered any actual mail, usually packages, that came through the actual mailroom, and finally at 8 AM, the girls were available to be summoned. But really, their shift started at 5 AM, when they got to the "Terrarium" and started getting ready... unpaid, of course. The girls were starting to realize that the nice-looking salary that had been dangled in front of them was not that good. Four had crunched some numbers, and after the frequent unpaid overtime (including the first hour of their day), the number of paid hours they were required to work, and the frequent "docks in pay" the girls received for infractions, each of them was making about $9 per hour. Which was basically nothing.

The halls were mostly empty at this time of morning, but of course, employees had begun gathering in the lobby and cafeteria to watch the show of the girls' morning routine. Not that they could see the people once they were in the Terrarium. One of the service staircases had a backdoor attached, which was how the girls entered, mostly to avoid the crowd.

Once in, they were visible from the other side of the front and back walls. Six went right to the front of the room, where Mistress Nul's desk was. Next to it was a spanking bench and a corkboard where her instruments of punishment were all hung. Her paddle, whip, handcuffs...all the things the girls had had used on them the past week, and would for the next three months, at least. To the left of the desk was a pair of stainless-steel dog bowls, filled with old water from last night. Six got on all fours and drank, not caring that it had sat there overnight.

After lapping up her fill, she dipped behind the shower and sat on a toilet. The toilets were still visible to outsiders, from an angle, but the opaque wall in front of them on each side offered some relative privacy, compared to the rest of the room. Three joined her, leaving a toilet between them. There were only four on each side of the locker room, eight total. The two smiled warmly. They very clearly liked each other. In a moment of lapse in judgment on Friday, they had shown the whole lobby how much they liked one another. In the shower, of all places. They'd given each other five orgasms apiece. They knew exactly how many, because the watches (which were entirely waterproof) tracked EXACTLY how many orgasms each girl had whenever they came, as well as intensity. It added the info to their profiles for everyone to see in the mailgirl app. Of course, Mistress Nul made them all admit it out loud during the next inspection, whenever she got a notification that a girl came at work. And if you got the number or intensity wrong, or who it was with, you went to the bench.

"So," Six sighed. She knew they had to talk about this. "About Friday evening...ugh. I'm sorry, it's just so... I can't believe we did that."

Three looked disappointed. "You mean at all? Or like just that we did it here, for everyone to see?"

"Oh, I'm not at all ashamed we did it," Six smiled. "Just kinda icked out that we gave everyone a live performance like some porn stars. But I'm also ashamed that I liked that we had an audience."

Three gave her a side eye. "Really Six? Cause you could have fooled me last week. You won the 'most orgasms in the locker room' contest by a landslide. Four was second and had half the number you did.... Even before the ones I gave you."

It was true, Six had masturbated like six times last week. And just being here with Three, thinking about fucking her in the shower, she was ready to do it again as soon as she got to the shower. "I don't care about... I'm a slut. I own it. You aren't. It's you I'm worried about."

"HEY," Three snapped at her, "don't you talk about yourself like that. Ever. We have all done it at least once already. And we've been in this job for a week. One week. Most of us have gotten ourselves off twice. Except Two, but she's like an old lady. But even she fucking did on Friday. You just... I don't know. Don't care who's watching, and like an audience. We don't kink shame.... And I was an absolutely willing participant on Friday. We fucked. We're adults. We enjoyed it. The End."

Six couldn't argue with that. She shrugged, "You're right. I researched how all this works over the weekend, me and Four. It's always been super common for mailgirls to masturbate in the locker room, even have sex with each other, when they're allowed to. We're not special. In fact, like 80% masturbate at least once in the first week. 40% have sex with another mailgirl in that first week, so we have plenty of company there."

"See," Three reassured her. "Everything will be fine. The rest of us will catch up eventually." Three stood up, "I'm going to take a shower." The girl walked away, and Six was deciding what to do. She was hungry, so she decided to grab some mailgirl chow before her shower. She grabbed a clean bowl from the stack by Mistress Nul's desk, as well as one of the cans piled alongside it. As she prepared her meal, opening the can and pouring the gross slop into the bowl, she began to reflect on Friday, thinking about her and Three in the shower...she'd have to eat quickly so she could get in the shower.

Jillian had been on her way to the detention level to convince the former Mailgirl #4 to reconsider and rejoin her comrades as Mailgirl #9, when her cell pinged, a text from Davidson. "

Meet me in the lobby on 4, we can catch up while watching the morning routine."

It wasn't uncommon for her to meet with Davidson, of course, or to watch the mailgirls on mornings they weren't busy. But meetings were usually in one of their offices, not a lobby, and they had only watched the girls together once, on the girls' first day, when they had observed their training. And since the next group wasn't scheduled to be trained until first break, even if they had been fully recruited, it wasn't that. She wondered what he was up to.

She approached the glass structure. The first thing that caught her eye was Mailgirl #6, as usual. She drew a lot of people's eyes first. It probably had something to do with the frequency at which she had her hand between her legs. This time, though, the athletic blonde was on her hands and knees, eating some of the slop they passed off as food out of a dog bowl. It was kind of cute, if a little disturbing. The girl's curly, dark blonde hair looked a bit like golden retriever fur, which made it a little too uncanny for Jillian. Davidson appeared to be watching Six as well.

"Interesting, isn't it?" Davidson said as she approached. "Most of the girls took to this life seamlessly. Not like Six here.... She's like a fish in water."

"Or a dog in a kennel," Jillian quipped before she could stop herself. "I mean, yes, sir, she's good. Probably the best, at least of the first group. I can see now why you insisted we hire her." Jillian was having trouble keeping her eyes off Six, whatever her feelings were about a naked girl eating out of a dog bowl.

"I have an eye for talent, Jillian, that's why I recruited you to help me, and why I picked Six here to come work for us." As he said that, Six finished licking her bowl clean and stood up, heading towards the showers. "So," Davidson continued. "Sorry, I was in a meeting all morning. I left a present in your office. Mailgirl 9."

"Oh, I wasn't aware we had recruited a Mailgirl 9 yet." Jillian was surprised by this revelation. Davidson usually had her do the recruiting or at least be in on it with him. Doing it behind her back was unusual.

"Actually, this one came to us. Annabelle Amaya, one the Med Center nurses. Her wife is Grace Amaya, aka Mailgirl #2." As Davidson said this, Mailgirl #6 had gotten her shower started...and immediately leaned against the wall, ass facing Jillian and Davidson, right hand between her legs. "She wanted to join her wife for moral support. We couldn't refuse a volunteer, of course. I figured I'd let you keep going about your work, Mistress Nul, and I inducted her. Beautiful girl." Jillian wasn't sure if he meant Mailgirl 9 or the one they were watching masturbating furiously in front of them.

Jillian couldn't take her eyes off Mailgirl 6. Nobody in the lobby could at this point, not with her current performance, but especially Jillian. She was starting to imagine herself in Six's place, masturbating in the shower for all to see, delivering mail naked.... She used to fight those thoughts, but at this point, she didn't bother. She'd end up in there eventually. Probably not this round, but the next one. She'd always suspected Davidson to be using her for her exceptional recruiting skills, but he would rather have her as a mailgirl. He was either waiting for her to slip up, or not need her anymore, either because he'd found another to replace her, or because they'd recruited 29 girls and she was slated to be Mailgirl 30. Considering his odd behavior and that he outright blamed her for failing to recruit three of the last nine.... He was planning something. She was fucked.

She finally pulled her mind away from Mailgirl #6, who now had two fingers inside that delicious looking pussy of hers. "Well, that's great news. It means I hopefully only have to recruit one more after the detention block. Rose-Ann Walters and Megan Kiner should fold quickly after time in their cells and agree to come back."

Davidson rubbed his chin, "No. Leave Megan in there a little longer, give her even more time to cook, then offer her the same deal we offered Mailgirl Six," he nodded toward the now very rapidly coming mailgirl in front of them, as she writhed in pleasure. "So, recruit two after Rose."

"Yes sir," Jillian nodded, taking in the sight of the locker room one last time. She noted the contrast of Mailgirls One and Four doing their hair and makeup, Three still showering, Two and Five eating breakfast...and Six still in the shower, about to hit another orgasm.

"I have a meeting with some department managers I need to attend. Probably to complain about us stealing their employees, so I'll be going. Good luck with your recruiting." Davidson walked away. Jillian followed seconds later, on her way to Aurora Station's detention block.