Chapter Nineteen
/* Just over a week to go until race time. If only I could write that fast. Much appreciation for those who have hung in for the last four years I've been writing this. Still don't know how the race turns out, but I've already written a draft of the second epilogue. This chapter stands alone better than most, but it really is meant to be read as one continuous journey. */
Mailgirl Twenty-two had just completed her first delivery of Monday morning -- copies of the Wall Street Journal for those executives on the fifth floor that hadn't made the switch to on-line -- when her MMU buzzed to call her to Human Capital. She searched her mind trying to think of something that she had done that would get her called to the office that managed the Mailgirl Program, but thought she was clean. Yesterday's workout had been too strenuous to allow her leisure to flirt with Richard or anyone else. Well, Ms Barnes would let her know what she was in trouble for when she arrived.
Miss Bradley, the Admin, waved her into the inner office where Ms Barnes was seated behind her desk.
"Inspection."
Twenty-two was conscious of the timer ticking down as she went up on her toes, arched her back, and clasped her arms behind her head. Ms Barnes came around the desk and tapped Twenty-two's MMU just after it chimed, indicating a late delivery. "Oh dear, another demerit. Mistress V will have you back over the spanking bench before you know it." Ms Barnes circled around the naked mailgirl before allowing, "Well, your grooming is acceptable. Knees."
Twenty-two dropped down into a kneeling position, knees widespread, feet together, arms clasped behind, eyes down, breasts and pussy thrust out.
"The new Mailgirl Thirteen is on her way from the airport. When she arrives at the Security Desk, you will meet her and take her to Legal by way of the Employee's Dining Room where you can observe Mailgirl Fifteen in the courtyard. From there you will lead here to Payroll, then back here. After her orientation, you will escort her to the Med Center, and by then Fifteen should be properly chastised. You will turn her over to Fifteen for training and put yourself back into service. Now, out and await your summons."
Twenty-two rose and turned, departing Ms Barnes' office to sink back onto her knees on the repurposed yoga mat by Miss Bradley's desk. Most mailgirl mats were in heavily trafficked areas which suited Twenty-two's exhibitionist streak. Miss Bradley's desk and Ms Barnes' office were at the end of a corridor traversed only by those actually visiting Human Capital. There was a fair amount of foot traffic partway down the corridor by people checking out the framed collection of mailgirl panties on the wall, one frame for every mailgirl except Twenty-three who had arrived nude in a shipping crate. Twenty-two was sure that some mailgirl would be handed the task of searching through the crate of Twenty-three's possessions when they finally arrived from her previous employer. Mr Fforde had sicced SG&T San Francisco's legal office on Mohr Brothers to make sure that Twenty-three got what she was due. SG&T may mandate that mailgirls be nude 24/7, eat dog food (well, Mailgirl Chow) out of bowls on the floor, and have them beaten in public, but they were scrupulously honest in matters of finance and property. Well, it was a bank after all. And their probity did not extend to keeping their hands off of mailgirls' panties -- those disappeared, never to be seen again, except for the one pair in a frame on the wall of the corridor leading to Human Capital. Still, to get back to the matter at hand Twenty-two would prefer to be kneeling where she could see and be seen as befitted a mailgirl.
Finally, Twenty-two's MMU buzzed, directing her to make a pickup at the Front Desk. The new Mailgirl Thirteen had arrived. She raced to the central corridor ignoring the display of lingerie, made a right to the service stairs, down two flights, then to the front of the building where a young woman in a nondescript cotton sundress was standing being carefully watched by the receptionist on duty. Twenty-two arrived with twelve seconds to spare and the woman at the desk promptly acknowledged her arrival, sparing her from accruing another demerit.
"This mailgirl has been directed to escort this person to Human Capital."
"Well, that means she'll be a person for what, another five minutes."
"This mailgirl has been directed to escort her by way of the courtyard off the Employee Dining Room, then to Legal, and Payroll so it will be a few minutes longer."
"I saw that Fifteen was strung up. Ms Barnes wants to show her what she's in for, I guess."
"Ms Barnes does not explain herself to mailgirls, and this mailgirl is not authorized to speculate on her motives."
"Welcome to Sloan Guaranty & Trust..." the receptionist glanced towards Twenty-two.
"Mailgirl Thirteen."
"...Mailgirl Thirteen. I'm sure that I will see you about."
Twenty-two looked at the apprehensive woman in the sundress and said, "Please follow this mailgirl." The not-yet mailgirl nodded and followed the naked woman past the front desk and back into the building.
"I'm Misty Greene, what's your name?"
"Per Human Capital directive I can only respond when addressed as Mailgirl Twenty-two. As of this moment, you're Ms Greene. Before we leave Human Capital you will respond only to Mailgirl Thirteen or just Thirteen. Any other naming leads to demerits and demerits lead to physical correction."
The two women made a left turn into a large space, "This is the Employee Dining Room." Twenty-two gestured at some mats in the middle of the floor, "Mailgirls eat lunch and sometimes dinner kneeling on those mats."
They continued across the room to the glass wall looking out onto a pleasant outdoor space, and then through a door. Misty made a bee-line to stand in front of the naked woman standing on the gravel with her arms wrenched up behind her back, chained to a horizontal bar. There was a large red ball strapped into her mouth and she was teetering on a pair of black high heels.