I'm Dating Our Mailgirl Ch. 05

You talked, we listened! A number of people were quite vocal in saying how they did not like the direction this story was going. We have responded to all of those very thoughtful and well-intentioned criticisms. We hope that you think that the story is back on track. If you agree, please give us a favorable rating.

This story is a continuation of I'm Dating Our Mailgirl. The 1st 4 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.

I CHECKED MY EMAIL

I had 17 unread email. I sorted them in reverse chronological order. The 3rd one was 9:04 AM Nov. 1, high urgency; distribution list was all employees in the corporate headquarters and the law firm on the 34th - 36th floor of the building. It was as 9 had described, but she left out that everyone was encouraged to attend the shearing activity. To encourage attendance, the mailgirl who has the most "fans" in attendance (that's what they called them (us?)) would be awarded an unspecified prize. A ballot would be handed out at each session and we would vote on our favorite. I was heartbroken when I read this email. I know how heartbroken 9 was when she told me what they were going to do. I don't think it was so much vanity over having her strawberry blond hair cut as it was having her human dignity further eroded. I wished there was something I could do to change this ill-conceived decision.

The seventh one was 11:37 AM Nov 1, high urgency; distribution list was all employees in the Seahawk building. In a cost cutting measure, the firm was eliminating the use of carrier services such as Fex Ex or DSL or the mail to any building in the 8 blocks immediately contiguous to the Seahawk building. That was a 9 block area, 3 x 3, with our building in the center. From now on mailgirls would make deliveries to any of those buildings. As a courtesy, they could also be dispatched to pick up packages. The local law enforcement agencies had been notified and to eliminate arrest or harassment for public nudity, if the girls were on a leash escorted by security, they were not to be stopped. The new plan would go into effect at 7:00 AM Nov. 4

The 11th email was 1:14 PM Nov 1, high urgency; distributed to HR, and the medical staff (there were 4 employees in that department to handle the ordinary emergency needs of any large corporation and such incidental tasks as organizing blood drives, inoculation drives, educational programs, wellness monitoring, etc.), In addition the email was distributed to 3 people who weren't employees but who I learned were the 3 people who showed up to minister to 6 when she had her psychotic break. And I was on the distribution list! There was no obvious reason in terms of my relationship to any of those others on the list. It began cheerily, "We are pleased to report that mailgirl 6 who had had some medical issues is well on the road to a complete recovery. We have been told that we can discontinue her dosage of fluoxetine. We are going to see how the mailgirls respond to a complete elimination of fluoxetine. As a precautionary measure 9, who has shown continued signs of psychotic behavior, has been switched from fluoxetine to vortioxetine. "Continued signs of psychotic behavior"? And why was I informed of this. Obviously I had a relationship with 9 but there was no official reason why this should have been sent to me. Was this just a way of getting at me?

The 14th email was sent 3:21 PM Nov 1, the same distribution list as the 11th and in addition the nutrition/food service department. Again, my name stuck out on the distribution list like a sore thumb. "In our ongoing efforts to improve the nutritional/medical well being of our mailgirls, we have been testing the use of Sulpiride as an antidepressent. We have been encourage by the results of the test in the past week when it was added to the mailgirls' gruel. While these preliminary results are quite encouraging, it does have the effect of increasing the possibility of lactation and it will continue to be monitored closely. Until we can evaluate the results, we will discontinue the use of this drug. The food service department will discontinue adding sulpiride to the gruel that is prepared for the mailgirls. 9 however will be given prescriptions of sulpiride which she can take on an "as needed" basis.

All of the email were from Rose Anderson. Just as my name stuck out on two of the email, Olivia Wallace also stuck out. Why was this accounts payable clerk included in the distribution list? I got the answer then I went back to my inbox. 7:21 AM Nov 4 high urgency; distribution list was all employees in the Seahawk building. Please join us in welcoming the new Supervisor of Mailgirl operations, Olivia Wallace. Olivia has been going through orientation in order to officially assume her new responsibilities this morning. We want to thank Rose Anderson for the admirable job she has performed since the mailgirl program was first instituted at Seahawk Industries."

This was starting to explain a lot.

So Olivia is the new mailgirl czar. I wondered if I could just possibly leverage her infatuation with me into a reprieve for the girls. I called her office. "Olivia, congratulations on your promotion. Let me buy you lunch today, are you available? Great, the cafeteria alright? See you there at 12:30."

At 12:15 I took off my bra. I applied some more makeup and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my blouse. Damn, why couldn't those little suckers be fuller. Oh, well. Maybe Olivia is a small boob person.

We grabbed our lunches and sat down. I selected a section of the dining area that was fairly unoccupied so we could have some privacy for a quickly arranged assignation in the middle of the day. I was debating between the subtle approach and the blunt approach. I decided to go with the subtle approach. If necessary, I could retreat to the full all-out assault.

I started right in as soon as we sat down. "Congratulations again on your new position. That's quite a feather in your cap."

"I know that you didn't just invite me here for polite office chit-chat. I know you want something, Monica."

"Please, you don't give me credit. Olivia, I know you've always been interested in me. Well, now I see you in a different light. Please don't think me vain, but suddenly I see you in a wholly different light. You've not just a mere clerk in Accounts Payable, but you are the mailgirl guru, the czarina." I batted my eyes at her. "Perhaps someone worthy of me dating."

"I was unworthy before? You're dating a mailgirl. Mailgirls are lower than whale shit in the corporate structure."

"You're right. Perhaps I've been blinded by infatuation. But now I can evaluate you differently. Wasn't it Henry Kissinger who said 'power is the ultimate aphrodisiac'? You now have power."

"Power for someone who wants something? What do you want?"

"I want you to rescind the edict about shearing the mailgirls' hair. It's too much of a humiliation. It doesn't promote the mailgirls mission of offering desirable sexual objects who can arouse libido in male employees. Heck, I'm sure having seen my reaction to 9 you realize they have an effect on female libido also. Having a bunch of Buchenwald refugees roaming around the building would completely destroy that mood."

"I hadn't thought about that. Maybe you are right. But if I give you this concession, there will be a price to pay."

Here it comes. "And what would that be?" I said as I batted my eyes.

"You're going to go out with me. I don't just mean Brew House out, but a full fledged date. Dinner, clubbing. . ." There was a dramatic pause. "And then a night of passionate lovemaking."

There it was, slapping me in the face. I was now to become a prostitute just to save my beloved 9."

I summoned all of my abilities to lie and I replied, "Alright, I can see that. Actually I would enjoy it so that isn't much of a price to pay. As soon as I see the email reversing the directive, we are on." The deal probably should have been sealed with a kiss, but we were in the cafeteria. We smiled and shook hands.

When I got back to my office, I opened my email. Nothing. refresh, nothing, refresh. There it was 1:44 PM high urgency distribution list was all employees in the corporate headquarters and the law firm on the 34th - 36th floor of the building.

"Postponement of shearing mailgirls' heads. Due to some technical difficulties, the planned shearing of the mailgirls that was to begin this evening has been postponed indefinitely. Please await further developments. We apologize to any of you who were anticipating this major event."

Postponed, POSTPONED. Has she tricked me? This has got to be clarified. But at least it did say postponed indefinitely. But I haven't yet defiled my body with Olivia's obscene tongue. But this has to be clarified.

AN UNEXPECTED VISIT FROM JOYCE PARKER

At about 2:00 I was surprised to see Joyce Parker coming toward my office. My office door was open, but she politely knocked. "May I come in?"

"Of course." Ms. Parker appeared different than she had when I first saw her. When she brought the mailgirls to our floor for orientation on the 1st day they were hired, her graying hair was worn in a practical bun like a librarian. Now her hair had been highlighted to accent their blonde features. She wore it in a short bob with sophisticated bangs which highlighted her hazel eyes.

"Monica, we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Joyce Parker, the Head of Corporate Human Resources."

"Yes, I know."

"I didn't even have the privilege of interviewing you when you applied for your position. I believe Bill Nelson and the head of recruiting made that entire hiring decision. Monica, I'm sure you are aware it is time for you six-month evaluation. I would like to meet with you tomorrow at 7:00 PM to go over it."

"Ms. Parker,"

She interrupted me, "Joyce, please."

I lowered my head. As a proper Southern girl, I was uncomfortable referring to someone in such a lofty position, especially one of my superiors, by her first name. "Alright, Joyce. Isn't that highly unusual?"

"What's that, dear?"

"Meeting with you, after work, for my evaluation."

"I've read you evaluation. I don't think either one of us gets high marks for doing things in a conventional manner. We'll meet on the 42nd floor. 7:00 alright, or is that too late for you?

"No, no. That'll be fine."

"Good, I've reserved a private room for us. We'll have supper. See you then."

With that she was gone.

ONE AND TWO ARE NOT SHORN

Olivia and I had not made it clear how her new edict might have changed our plans for the evening. Very uncharacteristic of me to leave so many loose ends dangling. There was to be no shoring at the fishbowl tonight, but was Olivia still expecting me to meet her there? I could have called her or emailed her or texted her, but I just decided to continue with plan A, even if it was without the spectacle of shearing 1 and 2.

Olivia was not there; I wondered if she just assumed out meeting was canceled. But as long as I was here I stuck around to catch a glimpse of 9 since I wouldn't see her again until Thursday.

Just before 8:00, food service came in with a big stock pot. They put 3 large bowls on the floor and ladled out what appeared to be overly generous portions of gruel. But this was the 1st time I had been in the fishbowl for the evening showers. Sure enough, the girls started coming in. My heart fluttered when 9 came in. She had no idea I would be here, and of course she could not see me. She was hand in hand with 10. I wasn't sure if the mailgirls had been informed that the shearing had been postponed. Perhaps 9 and 10 were bonding in preparation of being shorn together on Friday. Olivia came in and stood next to me. She gave me a kiss. It was a gentle kiss, but it was on the lips. I did nothing to indicate I welcomed that gesture, but I did nothing to repel the obvious advance. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"I wasn't sure we were still going to meet her since you postponed the shearing activity. Olivia, I'm not happy with your use of the term 'postponed'. I thought we had an agreement shearing was completely off the table."

"I don't remember our discussing a full blown rescission of the edict."

"We can revisit this later. I just came by here since I had agreed to meet you and I don't remember our agreeing not to meet her."

"My, Monica, you really do have lapses in your selective memory. Here, let's enjoy the show. I wonder why 16 isn't together?"

I said nothing and by my silence I indicated I knew what she was referring to. "I don't know. Maybe 9 and 10 are bonding in anticipation of their being shorn together on Friday. Have they been told yet the shearing has been, uh, postponed?"

"I'll put a copy of the email in the dressing room tomorrow morning. But for tonight, I just want them to have the agony of anticipating the shearing. I want to see the reaction when 1 and 2 are not shorn." This woman was a true sadist.

Meanwhile 9 and 10 had finished soaping each other and cleaning each other and were now mutually masturbating. Other girls were pleasuring themselves; three were performing cunnilingus.

The girls were all gathering at the gruel bowls. They were devouring it with considerably more gusto than they did in the mornings. Perhaps the running around was manifesting itself in voracious appetites. 9 was really burying her face in the bowl.

"Good, 9 is getting a good healthy helping of estrogen. I hope she remembers to take her vortioxetine table. It will work wonders for her. It will help her get over her antisocial behavior."

Antisocial behavior? What antisocial behavior? I was not about to ask. Was dating me antisocial? If that was her definition, than how long before they accused me of antisocial behavior. Then I remembered my meeting with Joyce tomorrow evening. Was this going to appear on my evaluation? Great, one more thing to worry about tonight.

"Come on, Monica. The first round is on me. Let's have a little celebration of my promotion. And more importantly, the thawing in our relationship." She took my hand and led me out the door.

CONFRONTING OLIVIA

I pointedly dropped Olivia's hand as we went out the door. She gave me a dirty look but we headed to the elevator then left the building for the Brew House. Once there, we ordered drinks. Olivia announced she was hungry and ordered some potato skins. She asked if I was hungry, and I had to reply yes. I hadn't eater since about 12:30. She ordered some wings.

I started right in on her, but I grabbed her hand and held it tenderly to soften the blow of the tirade I had welling up inside me all day. "Thank you again for 'postponing' the order about shearing. I don't like the term 'postpone', but we'll come back to that. What's this bullshit about the girls taking too much time in the mornings shampooing and fixing their hair? 9 checked with every one of the other 13 girls, and not one had gotten a demerit for being late for their first delivery of the morning."

"Monica, Monica. You don't seem to understand. Nothing ever happens at Seahawk unless you HR file says it happens. She who controls the HR files controls Seahawk. It says they were late, so they were late. Besides, I needed some pretext for having 9's lovely strawberry blonde hair removed even thought I have delayed the inevitable."

"So you had all 13 of the other girls punished?"

"Punished? Sometimes mailgirls have to be told what they want."

"The memo was sent out Friday. You just took over the position today."

"Officially, today. But I've been in charge unofficially since last Monday."

"What about the other memos. The expanded territory?"

"Rose thought it was an excellent idea. It's what sealed my new promotion. We had to work out some details with the police and the management companies at the other buildings, but I was able to demonstrate I was capable of taking on a major undertaking and bring it to fruition."

"The leashes and the escort?"

"It really wasn't necessary. The police and other management companies were all aboard without those concessions. It just added a nice touch to make the deliveries more interesting . . . .and to beat down the girls."

"The sulpiride?"

She raised her hand and said in mock modesty. "Me! I was researching antidepressents and then I saw the side effects. If you must know, that was my little gift to you." She grabbed my hand and started stroking it. "I thought it would make your suckling 9's tits more interesting. Has she started lactating yet?"

I hated admitting it, but I blurted out, "I got a little taste last night."

She clapped her hands in glee. "Marvelous. I'm surprised it was that fast acting. Soon you may never have to buy milk again."

"And what do you mean 9 has shown continued signs of psychotic behavior?"

"9, 9, 9," she shouted in exasperation. "She is so divorced from reality she won't even acknowledge her own name."

"Olivia, when she has a delivery, how do you summon her."

"By summoning 9."

"What have you sealed onto her ass and her tits."

"9."

"Don't you get it? You people have beaten her down so badly she IS 9. She has no other identity. She has more of a grip on reality than anyone else in this hellhole."

"Well, her medications aren't doing her any harm."

"Well maybe you people should invest in a pharmaceutical company."

I meant if sarcastically, but she perked up, "Say, that's a great idea. I like the way you think." She was clearly rolling the idea around in her mind. "We can have a marketing campaign featuring the mailgirls. The doctors will all go for that. Why don't you mention it to Bill Nelson. No, wait. That backstabbing slug will probably try to take credit for the idea. I'll mention it to Joyce and she can pass it on to the COO."

"I think I've had enough. I need to be heading home."

"Oh, one more thing, Monica. We are going to have lunch tomorrow, in the Hawks Nest. 12:30. I'll meet you there." The Hawk's Nest was an informal cafe in the building lobby.

"I think I'm busy."

"This isn't a request or a suggestion. It is an imperative. If you are not there it will be career threatening."

That was just too ominous for me to process on top of everything else that had happened today. And I still had to go home to face an evening by myself dealing with 9 and 7's -- 16's -- I reluctantly accepted that universal sobriquet they had been given -- little love tryst. "Alright, I'll see you there."

"Monica, you know I really do like you. A lot, Please, please don't fight me." There was a pathetic neediness in her voice that was in stark contrast to the cold, malevolent bitchiness she had otherwise displayed all day and evening. I hate to admit it, but I actually felt a pang of sympathy for her. I needed to find out more about her, not out of genuine interest, but in order to follow the admonition from The Art of War, "know thine enemy".

We stood up and I started out the door. She came over to me and kissed me yet again. Was I being worn down? I did not resist her.. I hoped it was just the vulnerability I was feeling from facing a night of loneliness. "Good night," she said as she caressed my arm. It could have been delivered with malevolent taunting as if to emphasize the fact that she knew I would have a miserable night, but it was delivered with loving compassion.

NIGHT ONE OF THE DEBT REPAYMENT

I got home just after 10:00. I took off my clothes but I didn't remain that way. I didn't feel in the need to be naked. I put on my night shirt. Not my favorite green silk one but an old tattered cotton one that had too many holes. I put it on as if I were putting on a sackcloth to do penitence. I poured myself 4 oz. of Jim Beam on the rocks and climbed into bed. Before I got completely blotto, I wanted to talk to my mother. I needed the comfort of her voice.