* Just over a month since the last installment. I'm doing better :) Again, this won't make a lot of sense if you haven't followed Megan's adventures up to now, though she does spent a lot of time bewailing the situation and explaining it to new arrivals. */
Samantha Brooks was nearing the end of a normal working day, that is if she was working a normal job. Instead Mailgirl Twenty-two was kneeling on a yoga mat next to the Admin's desk in Property Management wondering when she would be sent to dinner. Mailgirls who worked through the dinner hour - and that was the norm Monday through Friday - ate dinner on their knees in either the Employees Dining Room or the Executive Dining Room. The presence of naked women eating out of metal bowls in the middle of the dining rooms ensured the profitability of Sloan Guarantee & Trust's in-house food service at their Washington headquarters. Her MMU chimed and she looked to see whether it was another delivery or the dinner bell. Her destination was Human Capital.
She rose to her feet and exited into the corridor and up one flight of stairs arriving in front of Miss Bradley's desk with thirty seconds to spare. She took up position feet spread shoulder width, hands laced behind her head, eyes looking down past her fear-stiffened nipples to the immaculately clean desktop. Miss Bradley leaned forward and said into her intercom, "Mailgirl Twenty-two is here." Sam held position for several minutes before she heard "Send her in."
Ms Barnes looked up, pointed to the left and said "Knees."
Sam took a step to the side and dropped to her knees on the mat by the wall next to Mailgirl Twenty-three who looked a whole lot better than when she left her in Megan's office.
"You have courtyard duty from 11-2 the rest of the week. Mailgirls do what they are told, they do not take initiative. IT will arrange for a live feed to be displayed on your sister's computer so that she can appreciate your misdeeds.
"Take Twenty-three down to the dormitory and make sure that she eats. Do not stop in the locker room to clean up. You can bring her out to shower just before lights out. She stays out of sight until she looks like a mailgirl rather than a third world refugee. Nurse Allen will make daily visits until she's cleared for work. Fill her in on life as an SG&T mailgirl. Now, go."
Sam heard her MMU chime with a new destination as she rose gracefully to her feet. Her companion wobbled as she stood and Sam put out her hand to balance the other woman. "Follow me."
Sam led the way out of Human Capital and into the nearest stairwell. "Damn, she shorted me on the time, not to mention that you're not up to running down the stairs. That will cost me a couple of demerits for sure in addition to the courtyard."
"What's courtyard duty?"
"There is an array of bondage equipment in the courtyard next to the Employee Dining Room. I'm going to be hanging on a St Andrew's Cross or worse during lunch the next three days. And of course, once I get back up to twenty-five demerits Mistress V will have me stretched out across the horse for six or twelve strokes."
"Who is Mistress V?"
"You could call her our house mother. She's a former mailgirl they imported from Germany who keeps us in line and disciplines us. She holds inspection before we leave the locker room in the morning and officially she is the only one allowed to use the paddle, crop, cane, whatever. Actually there are occasional evening special events in the Executive Dining Room where senior executives or clients that they're wooing take a go at us with Mistress V to supervise. She steps in when one of the guest floggers gets over-enthused."
Sam's MMU pinged to indicate a late delivery before they left the stairwell. "Yep, screwed by Human Capital yet again." They walked down the corridor to the Mailgirl Lounge where Twenty-two pressed her MMU against the touch-pad and the door swung open. "The door only opens to mailgirls, Security, Human Capital, and Med Center personnel. This is the locker room. No lockers, but this is where we shower, use the toilet and bidet, wash our faces, put on and take off make-up. The outside walls are mirrored from this side, but transparent from outside. The tables along the railing on the lobby above are crowded every morning with voyeurs watching us while they drink their morning coffee.
"Employees are not allowed to physically touch us, nor we them. Mailgirls are not supposed to have physical contact with each other except we do wash each other in the shower. Quite a few mailgirls, including me, put on shows for the unseen spectators when showering in pairs. As long as what you do can be plausibly considered to help the other girl get clean, you can get away with it."
Sam pressed her MMU against the touch-pad by the door in the back wall and said, "This is the dormitory" as they entered another chamber. "And in here anything goes. Very few of us claim to be lesbians, but there is a lot of girl-on-girl action in here. Running around naked all day is a major turn on for most of us and sometimes you need more than just your own fingers. Or sometimes you just need comfort after one of those days. We sleep in those niches in the back wall and the grilles slide to lock us in for the night so make sure you take care of your business before lights out. There are recharging points for your MMU in your niche; that's the only time you take it off. This is the only place where we can use our hands to eat; no knives or forks, but fingers are better than sticking your head into those stupid dog bowls. That door over there opens to a tunnel that goes out to the parking lot; it's our emergency exit and the local fire department mandates quarterly drills. There is always a circle of firefighters watching us climb out.
"There are six computers on the floor over there with limited Internet access. On the weekends they turn on Skype and we can call home or whoever as long as you've cleared the phone number with Human Capital. We are not allowed on that bench there, it's reserved for Mistress V to put us on it and whip our asses. However, it is traditional for a new mailgirl to spend her first night strapped to that bench while the other twenty-three have their way with you - I expect Ten will have us hold off on you until you actually start working."
"What do mailgirls do here?"
"When not sleeping we mostly just hang out. There isn't a lot to do in the dormitory which explains a lot of the sex; it's better than staring at the ceiling."
"No, what do you do while 'working'?"
"We deliver the mail. Snail mail from the outside world, packages, office supplies, internal documents that are in hard copy for some reason, inter-office messaging - many of those could be sent electronically, but a lot of employees prefer to order up a naked woman to deliver their message. Why, what was it like where you worked."
"Mohr Brothers is a small venture capital firm housed on a single floor in a skyscraper. There are a small number of employees and only five mailgirls. We were basically sex toys: kneeling under a desk sucking cock while one of the men - they were all men - talked with someone on the phone was business as usual. There is a back room with a king size bed where we were given to clients and investors. The only girl-on-girl action was when one of them wanted to watch."
"Oh my god, that's awful. How did they get away with it?"
"As I told your sister, they recorded hours of video of each of us begging for sex, to suck cock, to be beaten. They also let us know they were well connected and showed us a snuff film of a woman they said was a previous mailgirl who had tried to go to the police. I'm afraid if I reported them the four women I left behind would just disappear."
"What about mailgirls that completed their contracts?"
"The four women I worked with all started within weeks of me and none of us knew any other mailgirls. I don't know if there were any before us, I don't know why they let me go."
