Confessions of a Mailgirl Ch. 08

VIRGIN TERRITORY

There was a door leading directly from the tower to the south wing on the fourth floor but since the entrance to Auditorium A was on the second floor I decided to take the stairs down to that floor before exiting the tower.

The tower, as it was commonly called, may have been the center of power for the corporation but it actually represented a relatively small area of the sprawling DDE complex. Up until this point no mailgirl had been allowed out of the tower so the majority of the complex remained "virgin territory" as Kelly had once called it while discussing the possibility of expanding our mailgirl duty area. While all DDE employees were obviously aware of the Mailgirls program, few of those working outside of the tower had actually seen one.

I exited the stairs on the second floor of the tower then walked down the corridor until I reached the entrance door to the south wing. I checked my watch one last time hoping to see some kind of error message telling me it was all a mistake, but the only thing I saw was that my deadline was ticking down and I still had quite a ways to go. I shoved the door open and entered the south wing.

As I walked briskly through a crowded cubicle area toward the main corridor the shocked faces I saw told me that my appearance here was completely unexpected. I wondered once again if maybe this was some kind of mistake, but I was trained to go to the location that appeared on my smart watch so that's what I was going to do. As I reached the corridor I broke into a trot past more astonished faces, then into a run as my watch vibrated alerting me I had less than a minute left. It must have been quite a sight for the employees here to see a nude woman running through their building but I was determined to make the deadline, technical glitch or not. I turned a corner and saw the entrance to the auditorium up ahead. With just seconds to spare I shoved open the door and stepped inside.

A spotlight shined on me as I entered the large room and all around me I heard the sound of whistling, howls, and applause. Temporarily blinded by the combination of the spotlight and the darkened auditorium I raised my arm up to shield my eyes as I tried to make out what was going on. Down below me on the stage I saw three large video monitors. On one of them I saw my own image in all its naked glory, on another was a timer ticking down the last few seconds to zero, and on the third monitor was Barbara Anderson standing on the stage.

"There you have it," I heard Barbara say over the public address system, "our mailgirl made it here from the tower in under five minutes and she had no advance notice this was going to happen. That's the type of speed and efficiency we can provide and will be demanding from our mailgirls."

I was unsure about what to do next as I continued to try to make out my surroundings. Was this some kind of media event or press conference? "Come on down to the stage, mailgirl," I heard Barbara say. Her reference to me as "mailgirl" rather than by name struck me as odd. As I walked down the stairs leading to the stage the spotlight followed me as did the camera displaying me on the video screen. I passed rows of people on each side, all of them turning to stare at me, and all wearing DDE identification badges. This obviously had to be some sort of employee meeting although it was being staged in a way usually reserved for media events.

My eyes had finally adjusted by the time I stepped up on the stage. Barbara was standing alone on it wearing one of those wireless microphone headsets that would allow her to speak as she moved about the stage and she motioned for me to come to her. "Turn and face the audience and assume your standing position," she ordered and her voice could be heard clearly throughout the auditorium. I turned and spread my legs to shoulder width, then placed my arms behind my back. As I did this I heard whistles and catcalls coming from the audience.

I quickly surveyed the crowd and recognized a few faces from my previous life in the company's management program. I realized now that I was standing nude on stage in front of several hundred DDE managers and supervisors from various departments outside of the tower. One of them I recognized as my former boss, Sanjeev Singh. Beside him sat Stephanie, the girl who had once been my best friend. Steph stared up at me with a smirk on her face and I quickly lowered my eyes to the floor in embarrassment.

"This is the standing position that all mailgirls are required to maintain while awaiting instructions," Barbara said to the crowd. "It's the only standing position they are allowed while not in motion. If there is going to be an extended wait for some reason you may also order a mailgirl into a kneeling position." Barbara nodded at me indicating she wanted me to demonstrate it. I got down on my knees and spread them to shoulder width as I placed my hands on my thighs and arched my back, thrusting my breasts toward the audience. I thought the eyes of a man sitting directly in front of the stage might pop right out of his head as he stared between my legs.

"This is also the position that the mailgirl will assume while resting on their mat when they have no current assignment," Barbara continued. "Under no circumstances is a mailgirl allowed to sit on any piece of office furniture for obvious hygienic reasons. If a mailgirl has a long wait during a pickup she may only kneel if ordered by you and there should seldom be times when the wait is so extensive that you will need to order her to kneel. We'd rather you not tie up a mailgirl. That's my job."

Laughter spread through the auditorium at the double meaning as Barbara looked down at me with a sly grin. I'm sure my face was crimson red with shame as this spectacle had to be the most humiliating thing I'd experienced yet. At the same time I was also becoming extremely aroused which was probably becoming noticeable to everyone in the front row, if not the entire auditorium since my nude body was still being featured prominently on a large video screen. This added further to my humiliation which turned me on even more. It was a vicious cycle that I was powerless to control and I just prayed I wouldn't have an orgasm right there on stage.

"Return to your standing position, mailgirl," Barbara ordered and I quickly complied. "We learned some valuable lessons during the pilot program in the tower," she said to the audience, her voice ringing out clearly through the speakers placed throughout the auditorium, "but now that we're expanding we will be making a few changes. Until now the primary method of communicating pickups and deliveries to the mailgirl has been via a smart watch. This worked well in the tower but now that a much larger area will be covered by the mailgirls we feel the watch has some limitations." Barbara walked behind me now and silently took hold of each of my wrists as they were clasped behind my back and pulled my arms to my sides. Then she took my left wrist and removed the watch.

"I've recently returned from Tokyo where I saw demonstrations of Hiromoto's 2.0 version of their Mailgirls Monitoring Unit which uses smart phone technology rather than a watch," Barbara said as she walked toward the rear of the stage. "It's more powerful and has more features than the watch and I believe it is better suited to our purposes here at DDE." I guess that explained where Barbara had been recently. She must have been in Tokyo finalizing the preparations for the expansion of the program.

Moments later Barbara returned to where I was standing holding a smart phone attached to a black band. The band was made of some kind of stretchable synthetic material and she slid it over my wrist and up my arm. She then let go of the band and it tightened around my upper arm holding the phone firmly in place. It was a snug fit but wasn't so tight that it would cut off circulation.

I can't say I was really crazy about this change. Personally I liked the minimally intrusive simplicity of the watch over having a phone bursting from my arm like a large growth. Ultimately it didn't matter, though, since their purpose remained the same: they were both electronic leashes designed to move the mailgirl around at the whim of whoever controlled the leash. And since anyone with a Mailgirls app could take control of the leash this would leave me at the beck and call of hundreds of different masters.

Barbara made several small adjustments to the position of the phone on my arm until she was satisfied with it, then stepped back and turned to the audience. "This new Mailgirls Monitoring Unit, or MMU as we call it, has several features that the watch didn't have. You've each been given a booklet called the Mailgirls Program Introduction and Service Guide so I won't go over all of them but I would like to talk about one new feature that will allow you to use delivery credits to order faster delivery speeds."

Barbara began pacing across the stage now as she spoke. "Each department manager will be given a limited number of delivery credits each week for his or her department to use to order faster delivery times. Standard deliveries will never cost any credits but you may also order Express, Premium, and Premium Rush deliveries using varying amounts of credit. Each of these will reduce the pickup and delivery times allowed for the mailgirl to meet her deadline. The Premium Rush delivery is the fastest but is also the most expensive in terms of credit usage, so use it on only for your most time sensitive deliveries otherwise you'll burn through your weekly credit allotment in a hurry. We don't want to run our mailgirls ragged on rush orders that aren't really time critical."

I definitely didn't like sound of this new feature at all. I felt like I'd been able to develop a strong pace that would get me through a long day without burning out and didn't like the idea of having to do rush orders that would quickly wear me down. The whole thing seemed like it could be ripe for abuse too, despite the credit system that would supposedly limit its use.

"Another thing that will have to change with the expansion of the program is how mailgirls are identified," Barbara said as she continued to move around the stage. "Up until now, with only three mailgirls employed, we simply referred to them by their names. Obviously we'll need to hire many more mailgirls now so this will no longer be the most efficient method of identifying them since some of the girls will undoubtedly have the same or similar names."

I had a sinking feeling I knew where this was going. We're about to become numbers, I thought to myself. The more I'd gotten to know Barbara the more I'd known this was probably inevitable. It was just another step in her plan to enslave me by stripping me of everything, including my identity. Barbara didn't waste any time confirming my fears. "So what we're going to do is assign each mailgirl a number in order to help identify them." Barbara paused momentarily to glance in my direction for a reaction from me but I forced myself to stare passively at the floor.

"And why is it important for us to be able to identify a mailgirl?" Barbara continued. "Because our mailgirls are expected to observe a very strict code of conduct and it's important that anyone observing a violation of this code be able to properly identify the mailgirl when reporting it. Those on each end of the pickup and delivery will know her identity because it will show up on their Mailgirls app with the delivery details, but others witnessing a code violation may not be able to identify her. She won't be wearing a company ID badge, after all." This brought a sprinkling of laughter through the auditorium.

Barbara walked over to me now until she was so close I could feel her breath on my cheek. "So how are you going to know what a mailgirl's number is?" she asked the audience. "Let me demonstrate." Just when I thought my humiliation couldn't get any worse, Barbara took a black marker pen out of her jacket pocket, removed the cap, and began inking what I assumed was a number just below the clavicle area above my right breast. I trembled slightly at the feel of the marker on my bare skin as I struggled to keep my emotions in check.

When she finished with that she inked numbers onto each of my hips, then spun me around so my backside faced the audience and began writing a final number on the small of my back. From this position I was able to see myself on one of the video monitors at the back of the stage and for the first time could identify the number she was giving me. Above my right breast she had written the number 9 .

Nine? What the fuck? Where did she come up with nine? I remembered that stupid little joke where Kelly and I pretended to be competing for the number one, but even with Anna around it seemed like it shouldn't have been any lower than three. I knew it was silly to care about what number I was assigned, but for some reason this bugged me.

Then the reason for it occurred to me. A higher number like one, two, or even three suggested greater importance. Barbara had made it clear to me that I was always going to be a lowly mailgirl and would never be allowed to rise above that station. Even in assigning me a number she wouldn't allow even a hint that I held a place of any importance in the mailgirl hierarchy. I was just a generic number nine.

After she had finished Barbara spun me back around to face the crowd. "I know using a black marker is a bit old school, but this is the way Hiromoto Industries did it for years so why reinvent the wheel?" Barbara replaced the cap on the pen and put it back in her jacket pocket. "Resume your standing position," she ordered. She then began pacing the stage as she spoke.

"As you can see, this mailgirl has been assigned the number nine and this will be how she will be referred to at all times while on duty," Barbara said. "I know that some of you know Nine's name from her earlier time working for DDE in another capacity, but as a mailgirl you will always refer to her by her assigned number. This will be the case with all of the other mailgirls as well."

As I stood on the stage in utter humiliation I looked up briefly and caught Stephanie's eye. The look of contempt on her face was unmistakeable and I quickly lowered my eyes again. I knew she believed that what I was taking part in was setting women's rights back a century and I can't say that I really blamed her for thinking that. Barbara was treating me as little more than a slave as she introduced her Mailgirls program, and in reality that's exactly what I was. There were few aspects of my life now that she didn't control and she'd promised me that her grip would only tighten over time.

''Now I'm sure there are many questions involving the expansion of the Mailgirls program to the rest of the DDE campus," Barbara continued, "but I believe the guide you've received will answer most of them. All DDE employees will be receiving a digital version of this guide in their email and a video of this presentation today will also be made available via company intranet to any employee who wants to view it. Obviously Nine's nudity in the video won't be considered Not Safe For Work so anyone who wants to view it on company computers will be free to do so."

Oh my god, I thought, everyone in the company is going to see this! This should have filled me with despair but instead it sent a fresh wave of arousal pulsing through me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I struggled to control it. I desperately wished i could go somewhere private to bring myself off before I came in front of a live audience. Meanwhile Barbara continued her spiel without missing a beat.

"There is one question I'd like to address, however, that I'm sure is on many people's mind. The elephant in the room, so to speak. Why the mandatory nudity for mailgirls?"

"Because it's awesome!" a man shouted out from the back to much laughter around the auditorium.

"Yes, that's true," Barbara replied with a laugh. "For some people that's reason enough. From the company's perspective, though, there are both practical and esoteric reasons for it. Let's start with the practical, beginning with uniform costs. There are none." This brought more laughter from the crowd. "There are no purchase costs, no cleaning costs, no replacement costs. Any uniform we provided would quickly become sweaty, smelly, and cause chafing throughout the course of the shift. This uniform, however, can be quickly cleaned whenever required," Barbara said as she pointed to my nude body.

I continued to teeter on the brink of an orgasm as Barbara began walking back toward me. "In order to insure uniform cleanliness we are adding an inspection routine which may be ordered whenever a mailgirl is not currently enroute to a pickup or delivery. It involves a new stance known as the inspection position." She was standing directly in front of me now and as I looked up into her face I realized she knew exactly what was happening to me. "I believe I'll have Nine demonstrate it for you now," she said with a smile.

I took another deep breath as I once again fought to bring myself back from the edge. "Nine, place your hands behind your head, elbows out," Barbara ordered. "Now spread your legs wider and lift up on your toes. Arch your back more." After I'd complied with all of these demands she stepped back away from me providing the audience an unobstructed view of my body.

This position was even more humiliating than the other two and left me feeling completely exposed and vulnerable. I began trembling as I tried to fight back my rising state of arousal. Meanwhile Barbara slowly walked to the back of the stage under the pretext of needing a sip of water leaving me alone, front and center, with every eye in the room on me. What she was really doing was engaging in a type of silent torture hoping to force me to climax right there on stage. I didn't dare look up from the floor at all of those staring eyes and I somehow managed to hold on. Barbara finally returned and began to speak again.

"So what will you be looking for on this inspection?" she asked the audience. "All body hair must be shaved prior to the beginning of each shift so there should be no stubble. Her makeup must not be too heavy or slutty looking and there should no streaks or runs. She must not be adorned by any jewelry. Light perspiration is okay but heavy sweat is not. Her hair should be clean and is not allowed to cover her breasts. She should be lightly perfumed and scented without either unpleasant body odor or smelling like she took a bath in cheap perfume."

Barbara began slowly circling me now inspecting my body, close enough that I could smell the scent of her perfume. She'd almost completed the circuit when, with her back to the audience, she leaned in even closer as if to smell my hair. Instead she began blowing lightly in my right ear.

This was all it took to finally send me over the edge. A moan escaped my lips as my body shook with a powerful orgasm. Somehow I managed to remain in the inspection position, but any hope that the audience hadn't realized what had just happened quickly disappeared as gasps and laughter spread throughout the room. I wanted the stage to open up and swallow me but I remained there on display, humiliated beyond belief.

Barbara backed away from me and turned to the audience. "I'm guessing that probably answers one of your questions about whether mailgirls get, um, 'excited' about public nudity," Barbara said as laughter rang through the auditorium. "Anyway that was an example of an inspection, although I doubt most mailgirls will react as enthusiastically to it as Nine did." More laughter swept through the room and I just wanted to crawl away somewhere and die.