Confessions of a Mailgirl Ch. 12

Each ten demerits meant an extra hour of work for the mailgirl and since we were salaried employees there was no additional pay for it. At the end of each week the total demerits for each girl were calculated and then they could either be brought in on the weekend to work the extra hours or their schedule the following week would be adjusted to include them. The mailgirls all hated the demerit system since it meant extra work for no extra pay. And, of course, working those extra hours meant the chance of racking up even more demerits and more work. Some of the girls were demerit magnets who seemed like they were always working.

It took me ninety-two seconds to reach my pick up on the third floor of the north wing but since my deadline was ninety seconds that meant I earned a demerit, my fifth of the day so far. I could often made it through an entire day without a demerit but, like I said, Fridays were the worst since it seemed like every other run had a nonstandard deadline.

"You have a delivery for me sir?" I asked. I was standing next to the workstation of a software engineer for the game Demon Slayer 3, another of DDE's major titles. It was a dark fantasy RPG that featured lots of violence, sex, and nudity and was the company's second largest franchise behind the Gangsta series. A film based on the game had recently been released and had done well enough at the box office that a sequel was now in the works. DDE also produced a popular series of graphic novels based on the series that expanded on the Demon Slayer universe.

The guy turned from his monitor, took a quick look at me, then averted his eyes. From my experience on the job guys either stared openly at my tits and pussy, tried not to be obvious about sneaking looks at my tits and pussy, or acted as if looking at me in anything other than brief glances would strike them blind like looking too long at an eclipse of the sun. Over time as they got more accustomed to interacting with nude mailgirls most of the male employees had become less and less shy about ogling us, but this guy remained one of the bashful ones.

"I, um, have a delivery for you to take to the tower. Right there," he said pointing to a packet on the edge of the desk without lifting his gaze from the floor.

"Yes sir," I replied as I lifted the packet. The Mailgirls app was available on both their cellphones and work PCs so this guy turned to his work computer to enter the delivery address.

"You're very beautiful you know," the guy said shyly as he clicked the "Finalize" button and my MMU vibrated and flashed with the delivery destination and deadline.

"Thank you, sir," I responded. I always found the bashful ones to be kind of sweet but since this was a Premium Rush order I had no time to delay. I turned and began jogging across the crowded floor as quickly as I could without risking running into someone. My delivery address was on the eighth floor of the tower and I only had four minutes to get there from the distant end of the north wing. I had to slow down several times and take detours around and through busy workstations. The employees had been told that it was our job to avoid them so few ever made any effort to get out of our way.

I exited the Demon Slayer room into a corridor that led past more offices and cubicles until I finally reached the door that led into the tower. I had less than two minutes to reach my destination. I scurried past even more workers and desks to reach the stairwell, then climbed as quickly as I could to the eighth floor. As I entered the door I glanced at my MMU and saw I had about twenty seconds left. Just enough time to make it if all went well. All did not go well. I found my path blocked by four executives - three men and a woman dressed in business attire - standing in the middle of the corridor talking to each other. They glanced at me as I approached but made no effort to move out of the way. There was no way past them without making contact and I wasn't allowed to ask them to move. I was just a lowly mailgirl and it wasn't my place.

I stood there unable to proceed until one of the men finally took some mercy and stepped forward enough to allow me space to slide past. The men snickered and the woman laughed as I placed my back to the wall and carefully edged past them. "Nice uniform, Nine," one of the men said as I finally got by them and started running.

My MMU flashed red as I entered my destination office. I was thirty-two seconds late. That would mean four more demerits. Shit! To make matters worse I was in the office of Janice Bergen, one of the Gaming Department VPs. I knew her well from my days working in the tower. She was notoriously hard on mailgirls.

Ms. Bergen and another man I recognized who also worked on the floor were seated in the office and talking. They both glanced at me as I entered then continued their conversation. I had no choice but to stand there and wait for them to finish.

About five minutes later they finally wrapped up their conversation and the man gave me a once over as he exited the office. Janice Bergen got to her feet and walked over to me. "I have a delivery for you ma'am," I said to her.

"No shit," she said sarcastically as she took the packet from me. She glanced at my MMU. "You were late."

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry." It was pointless to tell her why I was late since mailgirls weren't allowed to make excuses for tardiness. If you were late you were late. It also wouldn't do me any good to point out that being late had been irrelevant since it had taken her five minutes to accept the delivery anyway. That would only get me into more trouble.

"You're also sweating," she said. I had a light sheen of perspiration on my body. It was nothing unusual, especially for a Friday afternoon, but I knew where this was heading.

"I'm sorry ma'am."

She placed the packet on her desk. "Follow me," she ordered.

I followed her out the door of the office and she led me to a point on the floor where I would get maximum exposure to the most people. "We're going to do an inspection. Assume the position."

I sighed inwardly as I placed my hands behind my head, spread my feet to shoulder width and lifted up on my toes. Around me I could see people turning to watch. Inspections were one of the most humiliating aspects of my job and my arousal level began to climb as it always did in these situations. Ms. Bergen began to slowly circle around me, looking me over from head to toe. Maintaining this position was physically uncomfortable which is why I'm sure she took her sweet time about it.

"Unsatisfactory," she said finally, a result I knew was inevitable. "I'm going to send you back to the locker room to shower and reapply your makeup."

"Yes ma'am." Ms. Bergen punched her smart phone a few times and my MMU lit up. I had tewnty-two minutes to do all of that and return back for re-inspection. It was a ridiculously short amount of time and I turned and began to run.

I entered the Mailgirls locker room on the fifth floor of the north wing and walked quickly to my locker to grab my shower supplies. I wouldn't have time to wash and dry my hair so I tied my hair up to keep it from getting wet and then stepped into the shower. As I soaped my body I glanced at the mirror aware there was almost certainly an audience on the other side watching me. I was careful not to rub the numbers inked on my body too hard since faded numbers could lead to more demerits. I finished up as quickly as I could, toweled off, then grabbed my makeup kit. I hurriedly reapplied my makeup in front of the two way mirror with who knows how many people watching me on the other side with a closeup up view of the upper half of my nude body.

My MMU flashed green as I re-entered Janice Bergen's office a few minutes later. I'd made it back with seconds to spare and I could see a faint trace of disappointment on her face. "Follow me," she said as she led me back out to the same spot for a re-inspection. Once again she circled me slowly as others watched. "I see a faint amount of perspiration still," she said finally as she finished up.

No shit, I wanted to shout at her. I had to run back here to make it in time. "I'm sorry ma'am," was all I could say.

She glanced at my MMU again. "I see you have nine demerits for the day. I'm going to add eleven more." Just enough to make sure I had to work an additional two hours. Bitch!

"Thank you ma'am."

I was released from her service and almost immediately my MMU came to life. I had a Premium Rush pickup order on the fourth floor of the tower and just ninety seconds to get there. I turned and began to run.

My afternoon continued to be busy with an abnormal number of non-standard delivery deadlines to meet and only the occasional break to rest. Thankfully I'd managed to avoid any more demerits and things were just starting to slow down when I got the message to report to the ninth floor of the tower.

I was being summoned to Barbara's office.

THE NEXT STEP

Barbara was on her phone as I entered her office. She pointed at the floor and I kneeled down as she continued her conversation. I soon gathered that it was with one of the company's attorneys concerning the lawsuit against DDE by the United American Women.

I hadn't been whipped again since the day I brought Lin in here but there also hadn't been any wine drinking or quid pro quo sessions since then either. With everything going on Barbara was under an insane amount of pressure and she would occasionally call me in to just kneel naked on her floor as she worked. Although she would never admit it I believed I was there to help relieve the stress she was under. Listening to her side of phone conversations also gave me an insight into the true status of the Mailgirls program here at DDE.

What I'd learned was that the Board of Directors was not nearly as unified behind the program as the company portrayed to the media. Although productivity and profits were up since the Mailgirls launch six months ago and the release of Gangsta 4 had been a huge success, the company's stock price had remained stagnant. Analysts believed this was mainly due to investor nervousness over the continuing controversy and media scrutiny the Mailgirls program generated.

CEO and founder Dan Evans remained staunchly behind the program, however, and as long as that was the case the board would follow his lead. At least that was the impression I got from listening to Barbara on the phone. I sometimes wondered about the hold Barbara seemed to have over Evans. Were the two of them having an affair? I guess it wouldn't have surprised me but I never saw any evidence of it.

"Bullshit!" I heard Barbara say into the phone to the company attorney. She had gotten up from behind her desk and was pacing around the office now. "I don't give a damn how Hiromoto does it, we're not going to modify the contracts. We're putting a substantial financial investment into these girls and we need an equal commitment from them to fulfill their contracts."

Barbara glanced down at me as she spoke and I could see the frustration in her eyes. I occasionally saw cracks in her calm, confident, unassailable persona and this was one of those moments. I quickly averted my gaze and stared at the floor.

As good as Barbara was in dealing with the media one of the criticisms she had the hardest time defending was the substantial financial penalties built into the Mailgirl contracts making it nearly impossible for a girl to leave before her two year commitment was over. Mariko had negotiated with Hiromoto to eliminate those penalties from their contracts in return for agreeing to stay on and becoming his whipping girl. Barbara, however, continued to insist that the bonuses be paid up front requiring repayment with interest, along with a large penalty, if a mailgirl broke her contract. Attempting to leave prior to the end of the two year contract would cost a DDE mailgirl in excess of $100,000, an amount that none of them could afford to repay.

Although Barbara was able to come up with lots of seemingly logical reasons for these penalties during media interviews I was probably the only one who understood the true reason for it. Barbara wanted to create a class of nude female slaves and a woman could hardly be considered a slave if she was free to quit and leave at any time. She could never admit this publicly, of course, nor would she ever use the word "slave" to describe a mailgirl, but this was her ultimate goal.

Before I met Barbara I would have thought this was a totally crazy idea that would be impossible to achieve in modern day America, but with her indomitable will and the backing of a multi-billion dollar corporation I wouldn't have betted against it now. Barbara felt that she and her Mailgirls program just needed to withstand the initial firestorm and eventually the concept would become more acceptable over time. Right now, though, she was in the eye of the hurricane and the pressure on her was starting to show.

"No, John, we're not going to compromise on the contracts," she said firmly into the phone. She listened for a few seconds to the response. "What part of 'no' don't you understand, John? If you want to take it up with Dan then go ahead but he'll tell you the same damn thing." This went on for a couple of more minutes until Barbara hung up with an exasperated sigh. "Fucking lawyers," she said under her breath.

Barbara glanced down at me briefly before sitting down at her desk. She stared at her open laptop for a couple of minutes without ever touching it. "Danica, would you come over here please?" she said in a quiet voice. The tone of it surprised me. Not only did she use my name, it sounded like she was asking me rather than commanding me. I can't remember her ever using the word "please" before in addressing me.

I rose to my feet and walked over to her. "Please kneel down here beside me," she said. I obeyed and as I got down onto my knees I felt her hand begin to gently stroke my hair. I wasn't quite sure what to make of this since she'd never asked me to do this before. I was still in a subservient position but I was being treated like a beloved pet rather than a slave girl.

Barbara continued stroking my hair for several minutes as I wrestled with my emotions wondering how to take this latest humiliation. Did I really spend those years of hard work earning my MBA only to end up as the naked pet of a powerful woman? On the other hand, her touch filled me with a sense of warmth and comfort along with the stirrings of arousal that always accompanied these moments of humiliation.

Barbara was wearing a skirt suit today without panty hose and she gently pulled my head against her bare leg until I felt her skin against my right cheek. She continued stroking my hair for several minutes before her hand began a downward path until it reached my left breast. She began fondling it and using her thumb and forefinger to tease my rock hard nipple. Barbara had once told me that someday she would "allow" me to make love to her, and I started to wonder if today was the day. This was the most intimate contact we'd had so far.

I had little doubt that Barbara would eventually turn me into her personal sex toy and I'd thought a lot about that. I wanted it to happen. I'd developed such intense feelings for her that I ached to be allowed to give her pleasure. Those thoughts were also accompanied by feelings of guilt, since I also cared deeply for Anna and never wanted to do anything that might hurt her. Maybe I'm just a slut for wanting them both, I thought to myself. Mailslut number nine.

"Tell me what's going on in the condo," Barbara said interrupting my thoughts as she continued to massage my breast. The authoritative tone was back in her voice now, though, and I felt an odd sense of relief. Seeing signs of weakness and vulnerability in her bothered me for some reason. Maybe it was because I had chosen to surrender myself completely to her because of the power and confidence she radiated. Whenever the mask slipped, even briefly, it planted seeds of doubt in my mind. I wanted to be commanded by someone with the power to bend me to her will, not act as a puppy dog to cheer up my master whenever she's feeling blue.

I started telling Barbara about the role-playing games that Anna and I were playing and her growing fascination with BDSM and acting as the dominant in our relationship. When I'd first moved into her condo I was convinced that she must have some hidden cameras and bugs in there to keep track of us. I'd never seen any evidence of it, though, and Barbara would periodically ask me about what was going on there between me and Anna. I'd always answer truthfully. I don't know if it was because of my submissive personality that I revealed everything to her or if I was still concerned that there were hidden bugs and she already knew everything anyway.

Barbara seemed pleased by what she was hearing. "Good," she said. "I want that to continue. In fact I want to take it to the next level." Barbara removed her hand from my breast. "Go back to your spot and kneel, Nine," she ordered.

"Yes ma'am," I said as I began to rise to my feet.

"No. I want you to crawl over there."

I returned to my hands and knees and crawled to the middle of the floor as instructed, then turned towards her desk and assumed the kneeling position. Barbara jabbed the face of her smartphone several times, then began working on her laptop as she ignored me. Several minutes later I heard the door open behind me.

"Yes ma'am?" I heard the voice say. It was Anna.

"Kneel on the floor next to Nine," Barbara ordered. After Anna had complied she said, "Tell me everything that's been going on in the condo lately."

Anna began speaking and told pretty much the same story that I'd just told to Barbara. Like me she was reluctant to hide anything from her.

"Do you like being the dominant in your relationship with Nine?" Barbara asked. ''Do you enjoy making her walk naked to work a step behind you or kneel on the floor next to you while you eat breakfast at the table?"

"Yes ma'am but..." Anna's voice trailed off as she mulled over what to say.

"But what?"

"I don't know ma'am, I guess I just feel kind of guilty about making her do those things sometimes. I'm afraid that I may go too far or make her do something she doesn't want to do."

"Nine, has Anna ever forced you to do anything you didn't want to do?" Barbara asked me.

"No ma'am," I replied.

"In fact you find it very exciting when Anna is in control and would like her to push things even farther wouldn't you?"

"Yes ma'am," I replied truthfully.

"You love the fact that I've forced you into a life of naked servitude, don't you? That I make you do things you would never ever have done on your own and couldn't have even imagined doing."

"Yes ma'am."

"Have I ever pushed you too far, Nine? Be honest."

I thought about this for a minute. "No ma'am, you haven't."

"Not even the whippings?"

"No ma'am."

"There you have it, Anna," Barbara said. "It would be very difficult for you to push Nine too far. She wants to be under your control. She craves it. She will allow you to do almost anything you want to her, including inflicting pain as long as it doesn't cause any physical damage. Am I right, Nine?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Tell her then," Barbara said to me. "Tell Anna what you want."

"I want to be under your control, Anna. All the time."

"Say that again but address her properly," Barbara ordered.

"I want to be under your control all of the time, ma'am," I said to Anna. "I'll do whatever you wish me to do."

"Good," Barbara said. "And are you ready now to accept Nine's complete obedience and servitude, Anna?"

"Yes, ma'am," Anna said.

Barbara opened a desk drawer and pulled out a small box and placed it on top of her desk. Then she opened the box and lifted out what looked like a silver necklace and held it in her hand. She rose to her feet and walked over to where the two of us were kneeling, then held it out for me to examine. I saw that it was actually a metallic collar formed by a series of Y shaped links making it flexible similar to a metal watch band. On the front of the collar was a small plate with the number 9 engraved into it. Although there was no attachment loop on it for a leash and it was rather stylish looking I knew exactly what this was. It was a slave collar.