Confessions of a Mailgirl Ch. 01

When the elevator finally reached the lobby we exited quickly and Mariko guided me to the reception desk where she and the security guard were obviously expecting us. In front of the desk was a motorcycle courier dressed in leather and he looked each of us over from head to toe with a leer. I handed him the envelope and he began writing out a receipt. As he wrote I looked around the lobby and saw that everyone was staring at us. Beyond the glass entry doors pedestrians and cars went by and it felt I'd fallen into a crazy, surreal dream.

The courier finished writing out the receipt and tore it from his book and handed it to me. Then he took one last look at my breasts and turned and strode toward the exit.

Mariko smiled at me. "You did well."

"Now what?" I asked.

"We must now return to the the 12th floor to deliver the receipt," she said. "I am afraid we must use the stairs this time."

"Oh my god," I said thinking about the long trudge back up twelve stories.

After delivering the receipt to the receptionist we thankfully had no immediate orders so we were able to go to the floor's Mailgirls pad to get some rest. Unlike the other floors, the pad here consisted of thick carpet rather a yoga pad and I assumed the kneeling position with my knees at shoulder width, my hands on my thighs, my back slightly arched, and my gaze lowered. I knew this left me exposed from all angles and I could feel eyes on me from throughout the room.

After several minutes Mariko spoke to me in a quiet voice. "If it is okay I wish to ask you a personal question."

"Sure," I responded.

"I would like to know if you have any Japanese ancestry?"

"I do," I replied. "My grandmother was Japanese. My grandfather met her when he was stationed in Okinawa."

"Ah, I thought so."

"Is it obvious?" I asked.

"No, but I can see it in your hair, your skin tone, and a little around the eyes. However your green eyes are very much not Japanese."

"Yes, they come from my Scottish heritage." I knew my green eyes were my most striking feature and the thing that most people noticed first.

"Ah, that is a most interesting blend. It has provided you with an exotic beauty. But you have never been to Japan before and speak no Japanese?"

"No," I said. "My grandmother died when I was very young and I have no memory of her. I have seen pictures, though, and she was very beautiful."

"I am very sorry," Mariko said and we both remained silent for several minutes before my watch sprung to life.

"Floor 8, D6, Pickup, 3:00." Back to work.

After the unusual nature of my first nude assignment the rest of the afternoon consisted of mostly routine pickups and deliveries. After awhile I began to settle into a rhythm and found a pace that allowed me to meet my deadlines without burning myself out. I also felt so much more comfortable in the nude than I had in the restrictive workout outfit I'd worn in the morning. After our second fifteen minute break I even started getting a second wind and became confident that I'd make it through the rest of the shift.

The more time I spent with Mariko the more I came to admire her. She moved with the grace of a dancer and never lost her poise, no matter the situation or how she was treated. She had an innate inner calm and strength that had somehow allowed her to do this job for years without ever losing her dignity or belief in herself.

The two us were kneeling on a Mailgirls pad on the sixth floor near the end of our shift when our watches lit up and buzzed. "14th floor, A1." This one was unusual because it didn't specify it as a pickup or delivery and there was no deadline. I also realized it was on the top floor of the building. A darkness came over Mariko's face as she read the new command.

"I must respond to this," she said. "You should go down to the locker room and shower and dress. You have done very well today."

I was disappointed to hear this and wanted to finish up my shift with her. "Why?" I asked. "What is this?"

"I have been summoned by Mr. Hiromoto. It is best if you don't go."

"Oh, I'd like to meet Mr. Hiromoto if I can. I've read so much about him!"

Mariko began to respond but stopped herself and spent a moment thinking about it. "Yes, perhaps you should meet him," she said, "but I cannot promise he will meet with you. You may follow me but you must promise to do exactly as I say."

"I promise," I said.

As we climbed the stairs toward the top of the building I began to grow nervous and wondered if I was making a mistake. After hearing Mariko talk yesterday about how Hiromoto had been born burakumin - the lowest caste in Japanese society - and risen to power from there, I'd spent the previous evening researching him on the internet. By most accounts he was a brilliant but difficult man and there were frequent allegations over the years that he had built his empire through bribery and intimidation. There were also persistent rumors that he was yakuza - a member of a Japanese crime organization known as the boryokudan that had a large number of burakumin in its ranks. There were some who believed that Hiromoto was able to get the Mailgirls program going without interference from the government only because he had a large number of politicians in his pocket.

My anxiety increased as we climbed higher in the building and several times I almost asked Mariko if I could turn around. Somehow I kept moving, though, emboldened by my belief in Mariko and my curiosity to meet Hiromoto.

We finally reached the entrance to the 14th floor but unlike the other floors this one required a security code to enter. Mariko entered the code into her watch and then held it up to the electronic security pad. The pad flashed green, the door unbolted and I nervously followed her onto the 14th floor.

MR. HIROMOTO

As we entered the floor I saw a couple of very large men in suits that I took to be bodyguards. They looked us over but made no attempt to stop us. We walked through a lounge area and past a large conference room which were both empty, and approached a reception area for what I assumed was Mr. Hiromoto's office. The floor was essentially empty except for us, the bodyguards and whoever was in the office.

As we entered the reception area a woman who looked like she was in her 60s looked up at us. She spoke curtly to Mariko who had assumed a submissive standing posture and spoke softly to her in response. The woman looked at me and grunted, then picked up the phone and spoke briefly to someone on the other end. Then she spoke again to Mariko who nodded and dropped to her knees in the kneeling pose and I did the same. "Mr. Hiromoto is to decide if he will see you," Mariko told me. "If you go in I must please ask you to remain silent and not intervene no matter what you see."

"What are you talking about, Mariko? What will I see?" I was getting very nervous now.

"I will be fine but please do not attempt to intervene. You must promise."

"Okay, I promise," I told her but I was seriously starting to freak out now. What had I gotten myself into? As we waited there I couldn't help but think back to the bizarre series of events over the past week that had somehow led me to be kneeling naked in front of the office of one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in Japan.

We'd been kneeling on the hard tiled floor for maybe ten minutes when the old woman's phone rang. After hanging up she spoke a few words to Mariko and then stared at me. Mariko rose to her feet. "Come," she said. "We will meet Mr. Hiromoto now."

As we entered I saw a man waiting for us. He was grey-haired and immaculately dressed and groomed. My first impression was that he looked remarkably robust for a seventy year old man. Mariko kneeled immediately upon entering the room and kept her eyes lowered and I did the same. Hiromoto walked over and stood above us. "You surprise me Mariko-san," he said in English. "You have never brought anyone to one of our meetings before."

"I hope I have not offended you," she said.

"I am not offended," he said. "I find it interesting."

"Danica is from our new American partners," Mariko said. "I felt it best if she saw all aspects of our Mailgirls program."

"Yes, I know who she is," Hiromoto said. He walked around me and I felt him inspecting my body from every angle. "I like your uniform," he said to me.

"Thank you, sir," I replied, not sure how else to respond.

"Very well Mariko-san," Hiromoto said. "If you desire her to observe our arrangement then she shall." He then spoke a few words in Japanese to her and she rose to her feet. I began to get up also until Mariko turned to me.

"No," she said. "Please remain there. And do not forget your promise."

I returned to my knees and watched her walk forward into the center of the office. Hiromoto walked behind his desk and retrieved something from a cabinet behind it. As he walked toward Mariko I saw that he had a small whip of some sort I would learn later was a riding crop. Hiromoto issued a command in Japanese and Mariko dropped to her hands and knees and placed her elbows and forehead on the floor. He walked behind her and gave another command and she raised her right foot off the floor towards him. Hiromoto placed the end of the crop on the bottom of her foot and then, with an almost imperceptible movement of his wrist, slapped it against the bottom of her foot with a loud snap. I gasped in shock as I saw Mariko's body jerk in response. Hiromoto looked up at me and I immediately lowered my gaze to the floor.

"You are here to watch, so watch," he said to me. I raised my eyes again. He immediately slapped her foot again and again. Each time he struck her Mariko's body jerked slightly but she never cried out. I wanted to shout at him to stop or rush over to try to help her but I remembered my promise and knew anything I did would probably only make things worse.

After a minute or so Hiromoto gave another command and Mariko lowered her right foot and lifted her left foot which he then began striking. When he was finished with her feet he began striking her left ass cheek and then her right. By the time he was done I estimated he had struck Mariko at least one hundred times.

After he was done, Hiromoto walked around in front of Mariko and spoke to her. She rose up off her hands, remaining on her knees, and nodded several times as he spoke. Then she laid her head down on on the floor and prostrated herself before him and I was afraid he was going to begin striking her again. Instead he reached down and stroked her hair several times then walked back behind his desk and replaced the whip in the cabinet.

Mariko rose to her feet and assumed the submissive standing pose waiting for instructions. Hiromoto sat down at his desk and grunted out one last command. Mariko bowed and then began walking toward me. Her eyes were moist and a single tear stained her left cheek. "Come," she said. "We may go now."

After we had exited the receptionist's office I couldn't hold back any longer. "What the fuck was that, Mariko?"

"Please," she said, "we will go to my office and I will explain all to you."

Mariko was walking gingerly on her sore feet and the walk down the stairs from the fourteenth floor to the fifth was a slow and painful one for her.

MARIKO'S STORY

Mariko locked the door behind us after we entered her office, then kneeled down on the carpet and invited me to do the same. I kneeled facing her and she began to speak.

"When I joined Hiromoto Industries I was an intern in my final year of university study. I was nearing the end of my internship when an executive told me of their plans to begin a nude courier service in the building and invited me to join. I declined, of course, telling him I could never do such a thing. He returned the next day with an offer of a substantial salary and bonus. I declined again. He returned each day with a greater offer until one day I felt I could no longer decline. I am not from a wealthy family and it was more money than I could imagine. Another intern I worked with also accepted an invitation and we began our lives as mailgirls."

I listened quietly as she spoke not wanting to interrupt.

"After I began I felt great shame in what I was doing but continued carrying out my duties. I did this for several weeks until I felt I could no longer bear the shame. I returned to that executive and informed him that I must leave the company. He told me that I must fulfill the contract or repay the bonus I had been given with interest. I informed him I could not because I had already used it to help pay off my family's debts. He then ordered me on to my hands and knees and whipped me with his belt for my insolence. I was told never to ask again to leave unless I repaid the money. I knew I could never repay this and was trapped until my contract ended."

A chill went up my spine as I heard her talk about being trapped in her contract. I thought about my own contract with the large bonus up front to pay off my student loans that I could never hope to repay if I wanted to leave. That's different, though, I told myself. I'm going to be a manager, not a mailgirl.

"After that," Mariko continued, "I resolved to fulfill my contract and performed my duties to the best of my abilities, although it was very difficult. I was often groped and fondled and one executive ordered me to pleasure him orally. As the day approached that my contract would end I resolved to leave the company and never return. That was when Mr, Hiromoto summoned me to his office for the first time. I had never met or spoken to him before."

I thought about my trip to Mr. Hiromoto's office that afternoon and how intimidating the man had been. I understood how Mariko must have felt that first meeting.

"Mr. Hiromoto invited me to remain on as a mailgirl and help them manage and improve the program. I politely declined, telling him about my treatment as a mailgirl and the abuses that I and others had suffered. After I had finished he told me to prepare a list of changes I believed should be made to improve the lives of the mailgirls and bring it to him the next day. I did so and he agreed to all of them but one. He insisted mailgirls must not be allowed to have names while on duty. He said he would use his power to protect the mailgirls from further abuses, but only if I remained to help manage the program."

"I was anxious to leave the company but felt I could not abandon the other girls so I agreed to stay, but told Mr. Hiromoto that I would sign no contract and would leave if the promises were not fulfilled. He agreed to that but added one final provision. If the mailgirls were not to suffer for their failures then someone must. I must agree to be punished for each demerit my mailgirls receive."

"Oh my god," I said. "Do the other mailgirls know you're dong this?"

"No," she replied, "and you must speak of this to no one. You must promise."

"I promise," I told her. "But why would you agree to that?"

"Mr. Hiromoto has kept his promise to use his power to protect the mailgirls and I will keep mine. It is much better for them now and my punishment is a small price to pay for that."

"Hiromoto is still a sadistic prick for doing this to you," I said. "He should be protecting the mailgirls because it's the right thing to do."

"Mr. Hiromoto does nothing without receiving something in return. That is how he does business and this is a business arrangement."

"Business? You don't think he gets off on whipping you? He probably jacks off the minute you leave the room."

"Perhaps he does, but that is not my concern. My concern is the protection of my girls."

As I sat there thinking about what I'd just been told my admiration for the nude woman kneeling before me continued to grow. I was beginning to believe that Mariko was the strongest and most selfless person I had ever met.

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked. "Why did you allow me to go up to Hiromoto's office to witness that?"

"I sense an inner strength in you that has not yet been tapped," she replied. "You have many challenges ahead of you and I felt it best to pull back the veil and allow you to see that there are powerful men and women who will seek to take advantage of you and your girls."

I thought about this for a moment. "I may have made a terrible mistake, Mariko." I told her about the large bonus I'd accepted to pay off my student loans when signing my contract.

"Is this something you can afford to repay if you choose to leave?" she asked.

"No way. The money's gone. It's already been used to pay off the loans." Mariko's face fell when she heard this.

"Then I believe you are trapped as I was."

"We were told we'd be managers, we wouldn't be mailgirls."

"I fear this will not be the case," Mariko said. "You and Kelly each have extraordinary beauty and were most likely selected for that reason. I believe the intent is to make both of you their first mailgirls. But perhaps I am wrong."

A surge of panic went through me as I heard that. "What should I do, Mariko?"

"You must do what you must to protect yourself and your girls. You must be the shepherd that watches over her flock."

OVER THE PACIFIC

Kelly and I were in our first class seats at 36,000 feet over the Pacific on our way home and I was working on my second glass of wine when I opened my iPad. I had my contract saved on it in pdf format and, for the first time, began reading it word for word and line by line. About an hour later I closed it and sat back in my seat in despair. I am so screwed, I thought to myself. It was even worse than I thought.

Not only was I on the hook to pay back the money for the student loans, with interest, there was also a buyout clause that would force me to pay an additional $50,000 for early termination of the contract. I did some back of the envelope calculations and figured it would cost me nearly $200,000 to get out of it, and that's only if I paid it off right away. If I had to pay it off over time the interest fees and penalties could easily push it to over $300,000 or more.

There were also references to my duties and dress code that made it clear that the company was free to determine both for me. If I failed to satisfactorily carry out these duties or adhere to the dress code I would be subject to termination which would then obligate me to pay back the student loan and contract buyout money. There was no question in my mind that the contract was written in a way that would allow the company to make me a mailgirl and there was nothing I could do about.

I looked over to Kelly sitting next to me and saw she was busy watching a movie on her tablet. I reached over and tugged on her sleeve to get her attention. She paused the movie, took off her headphones and turned to me. "Hey, what's up?"

"Do you feel like talking for a few minutes?" I asked her.

"Sure."

"Kelly, have you read our contract? I mean really read it?"

"I have, unfortunately. I kind of wish I hadn't."

"And?"

"And the company pretty much owns us for the next two years if that's what you want to know."

"Yeah, that's what I got out of it, too," I said. "Do you think they'll try to make us mailgirls?"

Kelly snorted derisively when I asked this. "Of course they will. I never bought into Barbara's bullshit for a second. I figured that was part of the plan all along."

"You did? Why?"

"I mean look at us, Danica. We're the two hottest women in the building. There are probably a hundred other women more experienced and qualified to help setup and manage the program without the company having to throw buckets of money at them, and they chose us? Did you think it was for our beautiful minds?"

Oh my god, I'm so stupid and naive, I thought to myself. "So if you believed that why did you sign the contract?"