This story is a continuation of I'm Dating Our Mailgirl. The 1st 10 chapters of that story should be read first for context. All characters are 18 or older and are completely fictitious as is Seahawk Industries. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.
MAKING UP FOR NEGLECTING 9
I felt bad for 9 since I had spent all weekend with Joyce and I had completely neglected 9. I knew I had to see 9. I needed to make up to her for what I'm sure was her realization that I had neglected her this past weekend. At 7:45 I went to the mailgirl outside entrance to the locker room. When she showed up all I got was a cold, "Hello." No, "I'm glad to see you", "I've missed you", "How are you". Certainly no kiss or caress.
"Let's go out," I commanded her.
"Are you sure you aren't too busy?"
"Come on, 9. You know I'm being pulled in too many directions. Tonight I want you to pull me to you."
"Fine, take me to the Blush & Blu."
"That actually sounds like a lot of fun. I'm a little funky. I haven't had a shower since last night. I've started keeping an extra outfit or two in my office so I have something clean to wear." The thought of using Joyce's shower occurred to me, but I thought that might be taking a risk since I didn't have her permission. Besides, I figured her office would probably be locked. "I can take a shower at the warehouse."
9 told me, "No. I want you to take it here."
"In the fishbowl?"
"Sure, I take two showers a day here."
I had to admit the idea intrigued me. But I didn't want 9 to know that I was anything less than outraged by her suggestion.
"I can't shower in there. I'm not a mailgirl."
"Not being a mailgirl didn't stop you from sleeping with me in the double bed in the warehouse. Twice! It didn't stop you from walking naked through the lobby out the building to the warehouse. It didn't stop you from getting loaded up on estrogen in generous servings of gruel. It didn't stop you from having you asshole rimmed by 11."
9 made a convincing case. I was glad she was so persuasive, but I tried to fake agreeing reluctantly. I guess I was somewhat persuasive since 9 felt she had to continue giving me arguments why I should do it.
"Monica, you were the first and even now you are the only non-mailgirl friend I have in the company. All the girls like you. Why do you think you have been accepted by us so openly. We love how you become one of us as you shower in the warehouse, how you sleep not just with me but with our, uh, chaperones in the big bed. How you allow yourself to be naked as you walk through the lobby, to be collared and leashed as you are escorted to the warehouse. This is just the next symbol of your identifying with us and our fate."
I continued to question her. "What if I get caught?"
"Everyone has left for the day except 3 and the earliest she will show up will be 9:45." 3 had permanent duty until 10:00 PM each night. "There's nothing going on on the 42 floor tonight, so no one is working up there."
"Alright, you go ahead and take your evening shower, then we'll go back to my office to get my clubbing outfit."
I was particularly aroused by watching 9 shower. Not only had I not seen her for a few days, but I was thinking about taking my shower there shortly, even though it would be without an audience. When she finished with her shower, she came out and we went up to my office.
I removed all my clothes in my office. Even though they needed to go home to be cleaned, I could get them tomorrow. 9 and I walked naked, hand in hand back to the mailgirl locker room. I asked her, "Are you going to join me?"
"You need an audience. I'll watch you from the other side of the mirror." As she said that, the imagery caused the estrogen in my system to kick into high gear. I was afraid I was going to gush right there on the spot. I put my hand in front of my cunt in case I needed to catch any spouting pussy juice. Fortunately, in term of hygiene, it was unnecessary, but it was unfortunate in that I was hanging on the cliff of ecstatic orgasm and I needed to seek relief. I handed 9 my dress to hold for me until I was through with the shower.
I walked into the locker room and then made a grand entrance into the shower room. I still had my hand in front of my cunt but I realized I was going to have to stimulate myself. I smiled at 9, or rather where I imagined she would be. I looked up and all I saw was my reflection in the mirror. The reality of what 9 and the other mailgirls go through struck me. Here I was in the most public forum in the building and yet the image of my naked self reflecting back on me from the mirror gave me a sense of claustrophobia. That image pushed me even closer to the edge of the cliff. I inserted my fingers. I was so stimulated that just by doing that I shot forth the biggest stream of pussy juice I had ever ejaculated. I was weak in the knees but I managed to stay on my feet. I reinserted my fingers for another round.
Then I heard the door between the dressing room and the shower room open. Two custodians, male, came in. I couldn't have stopped myself from masturbating even if I had wanted to, which I didn't. They seemed to be ignoring me, but they did manage to get an eyeful. I guess they weren't expecting anyone to be in the shower. They mopped the area, then they went over to collect the stock pot of gruel. By this time, I had regained my composure enough that I shouted, "Wait! Let me get some gruel." I stuck a spork I found on the floor into the mixture and took two spoonsful. But I wasn't getting enough. I stuck my hands in and brought up two handsful and buried my face in the mixture. I would need to wash my face again.
"What are you doing in here, Ms. Monica?" Good grief, they know my name.
"I needed a shower and this was the most convenient place to take one." They seemed to buy that. I finished my shower then I went out to ask 9 how she enjoyed the show. She was not along. A man and a woman were there with her, and Frank the security guard.
"Hey, Monica," said the man. I didn't recognize either one of them, but he certainly knew who I was. "This is Morgan. She just started here today in workforce management. I wanted to show her the fishbowl. We weren't expecting to get a show." My being naked was becoming second nature to me, and I actually stood there talking to my heretofore audience as if nothing unusual was going on.
When we were through chatting, I still didn't put on my dress. "Frank, can you escort us to my car?"
"Sure, Ms. Monica." We got into the elevator and Frank courteously asked, "Which floor are you parked on."
"No, I want you to escort us out the building and we'll take the side entrance up to my car." We walked by the security desk. "Hey, Ms. Taylor," I said to my friend.
She just snickered. "Ms. Monica, you're worse than my 3 year old niece running around buck naked all the time."
"Frank's going to escort us to my car. Can 9 and I have a collar and a leash?" She pulled them out and handed them to us. "No, I want you to come around and attach them to us." She obliged. We started to walk out the front door. "No, Frank, you've got to guide me by steering me by the ass." He did so. We went around to the side entrance to the garage and he escorted us up to the 2nd level. We got into my car, still naked. I drove us to the warehouse so that 9 could get into a club outfit and I, reluctantly, could dress.
We walked in and I was mobbed by the girls. 9 noted, "See, Monica, they all love you. You're a mailgirl too, at least in spirit. 11 was particularly demonstrative in showing her pleasure in seeing me. She came over and held me around the waist. 9 told everyone how I had taken a shower in the fishbowI. The girls screamed with delight. I felt eleven's hand drop down and start massaging my ass cheeks. Other girls touched me, but 11 ran her finger up and down my ass crack. I was getting turned on once again. Then I felt her finger actually inserted into my asshole, an action that she didn't particularly try to hide not did 9 seem to object to it. Indeed, 9 went out of her way to draw attention to it. "Girls, look at Moniven."
"Moniven?" I asked?
"Yes, we figured if 7 and I can be named 16 you two deserved to be known as Moniven." 11 giggled and leaned toward me and kissed me. We told the girls we were going to the Blush & Blu. 7 and 11 both asked if they could come with us. I felt very uncomfortable. 7 and 11 didn't want to go so that they could be together in a lesbian bar, 7 wanted to go to be with 9 and 11 wanted to go to be with me. I was shocked when 9 said, "Yes, that'll be great." I stared at her but apparently I was unable to convey my displeasure.
WHO'S WITH WHOM?
7 and 11 did not have any clubbing outfits like 9, but they threw on some jeans and a tank top and would at least be presentable. 9 and I got into our clubbing dresses. We all piled into my car and headed to the club. Again, there was an interesting dynamic in the car. 11 got into the front seat and 7 and 9 got into the back seat.
We arrived at the club. 9 and I were holding hands, but 7 was holding 9's other hand and 11 was holding my other hand. Liz greeted us, "Hey, it's been awhile since I've seen you two."
I needed to revert to an impish mood to keep from being upset with this group dynamic. "Yes, we've been out recruiting lesbians." As soon as I said that, I realized I wasn't sure if 7 and 11 regarded themselves as lesbians or did they just think of themselves as entertainers who liked to lick pussy as part of their act. They didn't react when I said it. "Yea, Liz, and maybe soon I'll be able to bring my future step mother in here. But it may be awhile before my mother joins us."
Liz had no idea what I was babbling about, but graciously seated us. We ordered drinks and some food and 7 grabbed 9's hand and had her on the dance floor. 11 said to me, "Come on, Monica, let's show them how it's done." She grabbed my hand and the next thing I knew we were dancing away. When a slow dance was played, I wasn't surprised at all to feel 11's hand under the hem of my dress and in my ass crack. I was torn between feeling guilty about participating in this blatant act and feeling pleasure about the erotic sensation I was experiencing. My ambivalence was resolved when I felt her finger caress each side of my ass crack. Up and down, up and down, and then it inevitably starting massaging my ass hole. And at last, I couldn't wait. Her finger found itself entering my darkest crevices. I collapsed my head on her shoulder. I struggled but I think I maintained my composure enough that I did not scream out in pleasure at my anal orgasm.
We made our way back to the table, me on weak knees. I didn't want to in view of the conversation I was about to have with 9, but I meekly thanked 11. Everyone knew what I was thanking her for. She and 7 went back out onto the dance floor, one of the few times they danced together.