I'm Dating Our Mailgirl Ch. 15

"Shall I put you down for the entire weekend?"

"Are you going to give me credit for my full three date monthly obligation?"

"No," she replied curtly.

"Just put me down for Friday for now. We'll play the rest of the weekend by ear."

"There's an opera on the 15th. I know you're starting to develop a taste for opera."

"What is it?"

"Der Rosenkavalier."

"I'm not familiar with it."

"It's by Richard Strauss. You know the 2001 Space Odyssey theme guy." She hummed out "Daaaaaa, (pause), daaaaaa (slightly higher and louder, pause), daaaaaa (slightly higher again and louder again)." Then she hummed a quick staccato "Da, Da." I laughted at her lack of musical ability.

"Yes. Incredibly, despite your not being able to carry a tune, I recognize that. But this is a different work?"

"It is considered a comic opera but it explores some weighty themes: infidelity, sexual predation, aging and the lack of selflessness in love."

"It sounds like the story of our relationship."

"The main character is the aging Marschallin who is trying to come to terms with her aging and her affair with her young lover Octavian. Octavian is a breeches roll."

"Breeches roll?"

"Yes, in opera frequently the part of an adolescent male is performed by a female mezzo soprano. The higher mezzo soprano voice characterizes the youth of the character. Marschallin and Octavian are lovers, and some productions show their love scenes just one step short of soft-core pornography."

"Well, that sound very interesting, but if I want infidelity, sexual predation, lack of selflessness in a relationship not to mention confronting aging, I'll just read my diary."

"Or mine?" I let the remark slide. "There's another meeting of the Bacchanalia on January 31, I really think you'd enjoy that."

I commented, "We have them on the calendar this month on the 30th right?"

"That's right. I hope you are looking forward to it. I know I certainly am." There was a pause of a half a minute when she added, with a smile, ". . . as is anus." In one sense it was very confusing how she, rather we, moved back and forth between personalities. But in another sense, it gave me a clear indication of which personality was at the fore. Here it was very clear, unmistakable, that we may be in for some degree of BDSM activities. And without even having sampled those activities I was being invited to enlist for another evening. It was obviously a group activity. I could hardly contain my curiosity, if not my enthusiasm.

"Sign me up."

"You won't regret that decision."

"Joyce, I'd like to throw another dinner party for you."

She beamed from ear to ear. "Oh, that would be so nice."

"I think it should be either Jan. 17 or 18. I'm thinking about a dinner party, with perhaps twelve guests. Twelve guests in addition to you and me."

"Do you have a guest list in mind?"

"Of course. But we'll get to that."

"Is there to be a purpose, or a theme?"

"Yes." I stopped. She looked at me as if to say, "go on."

I continued, "I think you should have a reveal. We should have a reveal."

"You mean a gender reveal? But last time I checked, neither of us is pregnant."

I chucked, "No, not that kind of a reveal."

'I don't understand. Oh, you mean when a homosexual or a transsexual reveals their new identity? But everyone of our friends already knows that we are lesbians, that we are lesbian lovers. What's to reveal?"

"But they don't know that I am the dominant lover to the subservient Joyce. Excuse me, anus."

Just then, five returned with the desert cart. It wasn't obvious that she had or had not heard the last thing I said.

Joyce thought about what I was saying and what it implied. Then she got a grin on her face and laughed, albeit nervously."

"So you want me to tell the world that I am a sub?"

At this point, there was absolutely no doubt that five had heard this. I figured it was not longer necessary to keep the conversation from five.

"No, you want to tell the world that you are a sub. You can't keep this little secret hidden forever. It took you less than 24 hours to let nine in on our little secret." Five gave no reaction that she understand what was being discussed and even if she did, she certainly didn't understand its meaning. She served my bread pudding and Joyce's apple pie. She wasn't sure what to do with the chocolate cake, but she placed it to the side of Joyce's apple pie. She then assumed the mailgirl kneel position with her palms face up on her outspread thighs.

Joyce glanced at her calendar again. "Alright, it's agreed, the reveal the 3rd weekend, the art opening the following weekend and the Bacchanalia on January 31." I couldn't comfortably kiss Joyce without getting up, so I just grabbed her hand and kissed the open palm. I licked it and sucked her thumb and two forefingers. She enjoyed the sign of affection.

"Well," Joyce said, "I just don't know what got into me in ordering two deserts. I can never eat this cake. Five, why don't you come her and eat it." Again, five was bewildered. What was going on? She came over and took the plate and, not certain how she was to eat it, she reluctantly took a fork. "No, no fork. You can't eat that standing up. Get back down on your knees. Do you like chocolate cake, five?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am. It's my favorite. I haven't had any since my 18th birthday. I haven't had any sweets in six month."

"Dig in, child. That's right; bury that pretty little face into the cake."

I lowered my voice to address Joyce, but there was no way in these close quarters five couldn't hear every thing that we said. "What are you doing, Joyce? Why are you humiliating poor five."

"You've done a lot of damage tonight with this 'good cop, bad cop' routine. Mailgirls are the lowest form of corporate life and they must be treated as such. But you insisted in chit-chatting with her like you were getting a manicure. You invited her to our table. You suggested that she was capable of making moral judgments and that confidential information could be shared with her. You have forced me to share the most intimate details about my private life with her."

I started raising my voice, "I haven't shared a DAMN thing about your private life. YOU revealed that information. You WANTED to share that information. I think that your perverted, warped psyche actually enjoys the fact that this 'lowest form of corporate life' is somehow superior to you by virtue of having this knowledge." Five grimaced that she was bring brought into the middle of this lovers' quarrel.

I reminded her, "We still have to make plans for Monday. Do you want to see the outfit I bought for you?"

"Oh, yes. Let's get back to a more pleasant tone."

I went over to the wardrobe bag I had brought in. I never would have brought this out in the open with five present, but apparently, we were now letting everything hang out. As it emerged from the bag I heard an audible gasp from Joyce and a barely audible one from five, still obediently kneeling on the floor but with chocolae all over her face. I held it up. Joyce exclaimed, "It's perfect. I knew I had done well in choosing you for my lover." She held it up in front of her. "Can I try it on?"

"Of course."

She started unbuttoning her dress.

"Uh," I glanced down at five, "don't you want to step into the restroom?"

"Why, I don't have anything that you haven't seen before."

Once again, I jerked my head toward five. "Joyce, we're not along."

"Good lord, child. Five sees naked bodies all day. She lives with 10 other women who spend most of their time naked. She runs around naked all day."

"But she's never seen your naked body. Aren't you afraid of losing your. . . ." I was stumped for a word, "your charisma?" Joyce acted as if my concern was completely unfounded.

"Wait, let me see how the costume looks on someone else. Stand up, child," she commanded five. "Put this on. Let me see how it looks. Wipe your face, i don't want you getting chocolate all over my lovely outfit." Five wiped her face clean with a napkin and then proceeded to put on the outfit. The outfit came with a skimpy top and a bottom which I figured were optional. I wasn't sure if Joyce would wear those items or not. But certainly five would not be expected to wear them for this modeling assignment. She put on the ensemble down to the accent chains that adorned her middle fingers and her toe. "It looks adorable. I can't wait to try it on."

I observed, "I never thought a naked woman getting dressed, even though scantily, could actually looked sexier than she did naked." Joyce scurried out of her clothes and helped five disrobe so she could put on the outfit. Any doubt I had about Joyce disrobing in front of a mailgirl quickly disappeared as she put on the attire.

Joyce announced, "I'm so looking forward to Monday night now. Well, Monica, I believe we've completed our agenda for the evening. Are you sure you don't want to join me at home for the rest of the evening?" I couldn't tell Joyce this, but I had really been turned off by her treatment of five. I wasn't even in the mood to make love with her. Or even to punish her.

"No think you. I'll just take five down to the fishbowl for her evening shower and then I'll walk her back to the warehouse."

She couldn't help tweaking me. "And then are you going straight home?" Joyce took off the outfit and put it back in the wardrobe bag. She slowly dressed again in her business clothing. She made no attempt to conceal her nudity from five as she did so. She put the slave girl outfit in the wardrobe bag and took it with her. Joyce and I walked to the elevator. Although five was allowed to take an elevator since she was going from the 42nd floor to the 21st, she observed mailgirl protocol and took the stairs. I got off at the 21st floor and told Joyce, "I'll just wait for five in the viewing area."

"You haven't seen enough of her tonight?" I scowled, but I didn't dignify that dig with a comment. She approached me to kiss me goodnight. The kiss was much less passionate that it would have been one minute ago before her last comment. I exited the elevator and when the doors shut, I went over to the stairwell to await five.

A LATE NIGHT SHOWER FOR THE LATE SHIFT MAILGIRLS

She was startled to see me when she emerged. "Oh, Ms. Monica. You startled me."

"I want to make sure you make it back safely to the warehouse."

"Thank you. But do you mind it I wait for three to get off at 10:00. And nine and fourteen were working a large dinner party so they'll be coming along soon."

"Oh, I didn't realize nine was working tonight."

"Yes, ma'am. She really racked up the demerits yesterday. Olivia told her she had to work tonight." Nine really didn't have a chance to tell me. In one sense, it wasn't relevant since we had not planned to get together tonight. It was only 9:30. I asked five if she wanted to go into the ante room and chat while we waited for the other girls. She said she would love to do that. "Monica, I really miss my family. I have an older sister who is a very important part of my life." She hesitated like a young lover trying to get up the courage to tell her boy friend that she loves him for the first time. "Ms. Monica, you're like a big sister to me. Thank you for making me feel that way." She hugged me. I planted a few light kisses on her face, her forehead, her cheek, her nose. I went down to her mouth. Her actions showed me that she appreciated my gesture. She had just received a kiss from a woman, and it wasn't while she was 'performing'.

"That didn't seem like a sisterly kiss," I said to her.

She blushed realizing what she had done. "Well, maybe you're more than a sister to me." We moved to the ante room. We grabbed two of the benches in the shower area; there really wasn't anywhere else to sit down. We still had almost 30 minutes to kill.

"Five, tell me how you feel about everything that happened this evening."

She chuckled, "I really liked it when Ms. Parker took off her clothes."

"You mean you were turned on by seeing her naked?"

"No, not so much that. But she really is very attractive. For an old lady. I mean an older woman. When she stood there naked, I was able to relate to her. She was just like us."

"But earlier she had humiliated you. She practically called you stupid for not knowing the difference between a cocktail and a highball. She made you eat like a dog."

"Oh, but the chocolate cake was so delicious. And you treated me like a human being, with dignity, when you invited me to sit at the table."

"But what about when she said, while you were listening, that she had a subordinate personality. And it should have been pretty obvious that I'm her Dominant."

"Ms. Monica,"

I corrected her, "Monica."

She blushed, "Monica, I'm eighteen years old. I really don't know a lot about these things. This whole lesbianism thing, I don't get it. I certainly can't be expected to understand this, what did you call it, BSDM?"

"BDSM. Do you understand why people who practice the BDSM lifestyle would want to keep it secret, to keep it hidden?"

"Monica, is wasn't too long ago that people who were gay, who were lesbians wanted to keep that hidden. One of the things I most like about you, and nine, and all of the lesbian mailgirls is how open you are about it." She chuckled, "Sometimes I feel like I'm the oddball since I'm not a lesbian because that sort of thing doesn't turn me on."

"But last night you let me, you begged me to masturbate you."

She kissed me, gently, but on the lips. "And I loved it." She then took my hand and started kissing my fingers that a short while ago were pleasuring her cunt. She laughed, "I think I'm in love. . . . with your fingers."

"Wait until you can see what I can do with my lips," I stuck out my tongue and wagged it, "and my tongue."

She laughed and slapped my face. "Oh, gross. But, Monica, would you really do that to me? Maybe I would enjoy it a lot more than I can imagine."

Just then, nine, three and fourteen came in. Three spoke up, "Well, what do we have here?"

I spoke up, "I told five I would walk her back to the warehouse, but she wanted to wait for you three to take the evening shower. We just got to talking."

Nine smiled, "Is that all?"

"Nine, five told us last night that she isn't a lesbian."

"But last night she told us that whenever she gets in the fishbowl she is magically transformed into an entertainer. And I might add, quite a good one."

The girls were turning on the shower and three and fourteen were soaping each other up. Three asked, "Are you going to join us, Monica?"

"No, I'm going to be going back to my apartment after I escort five home."

Nine plaintively asked, "Will you be taking me with you?"

Fourteen reminded her, "You have to be here at 7:00 tomorrow for the morning shower."

I was surprised, "Nine? Tomorrow's Saturday. Aren't you off?"

"Demerits. Olivia is really making sure I have no social life, outside the fishbowl and the warehouse. But you can stay with me in the warehouse."

"In that case, I guess I better shower." I started disrobing. Nine, who had only wet herself under the shower but who was waiting for nine to soap her up and shave her, clapped with glee.

"Come join nine and me," five beckoned me with her hand as I stepped out of the last of my clothing.

Nine said, with the slightest hint in cattiness and jealousy, "She says as she steps into her role as an entertainer." The implication was obvious. Five and I were to perform cunnilingus on each other, or at the least I was to perform it on her. And if it wasn't with nine's blessing, it was at least with her realization that this was a performance that was the expectation of all of the mailgirls.

Nine was massaging my entire body while I concentrated on pleasuring five's labia with my fingers. I interrupted my performance occasionally as I raised my fingers to her mouth so she could shower kisses on her new confessed love, my hand.

Five asked, "Can I pleasure your pussy, Monica?"

"You're a mailgirl. You don't have to ask permission."

Five said, "Yes, but you're not a mailgirl."

Fourteen laughed, "Yes, but she doesn't know that." I wasn't bothered by them laughing at me. It was somewhat flattering. And it brought me back to my reality that I was becoming more and more like a mailgirl. And this on top of the news I would be training the next batch of mailgirls. Of course, I did not share that information with anyone, not even nine.

Fourteen persisted, "So, five, tell us what happened this evening." I held my breath. What would she reveal?

"Oh, nothing much. It was a pretty routine assignment." I think the girls all knew that she was waiting on Joyce and me, the Head of HR and her concubine, the ersatz mailgirl. "They had drinks, Dover sole and dessert. We. . . " She caught herself and corrected herself, ". . . .they were served chocolate cake." I don't think the other three could see my facial expression, but I smiled at five and nodded imperceptibly but gave her the clear message, she had answered correctly.

I whispered in her ear, "And now a reward for your answer." I went down on her and brought her to a climax with my tongue. Nine was suckling at her tiny 32A breasts. Eventually, she gave out a cry of orgasmic glee. This was not customary in the fishbowl, but it wasn't completely unheard of.

Five came back down to earth and gave a smile that was half pleasure and half embarrassment. I said to her, "Don't ever be ashamed by what you just did."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, Ms. Monica."

"Monica."

She chucked. We all dried off. I didn't get dressed but gathered my clothes. "Let's all head back to the warehouse." No one else got dressed, not even five. Fourteen and three gathered the clothes they had worn to work, obviously nine had walked to work naked.

No one questioned why I didn't offer everyone a ride in my car for the two blocks back to the warehouse. Instead we parade naked through the lobby. We greeted the security guards. "Walking back to the warehouse tonight, ladies? Do you need an escort?"

"No, thank you," I answered for us all.

"Miss Monica," spoke up five. She corrected herself, "Monica, can I get a leash and collar?" We looked at the security guard and he reached under the desk and produced one.

"Anyone else?" he asked. I was a little surprised no one else responded. I would have thought about requesting one, but I would probably be leading five.

"Can you put it on me?" she asked. I obliged. We both smiled as I put it on her.

A COZY NIGHT AT THE WAREHOUSE

The five of us made our way to the warehouse. Greetings were exchanged all around when we arrived. Nine announced, "I've had a long day, and I've got a long day tomorrow. If you'll excuse me, I need to get some sleep."

This was a bit off-putting. She had gone out of her way to invite me back to the warehouse, I assumed if not for a wild night of passionate lovemaking, at least for a little affection, not just a polite "Good night."

"Should I leave," I asked.

"No, of course not. I want to hold you in my arms. Come with me to bed." She headed to her narrow bunk bed. We crawled in and I nestled her in my arms with nothing more passionate that a few tender kisses.

Shortly after that, fourteen came over to our bed. "Monica, nine, I signed up for the double bed with two. We're willing to give it up so you two can have a little more room, you know, to, you know."

I answered, "That's very generous of you, but nine is so tired and she has to be up early tomorrow. I don't think there'll be much, you know." Five who was three beds over walked up to us.

"Monica, nine, if there isn't going to be any, you know," She said it with a giggle picking up on fourteen's reluctance to come out and say mad passionate muff diving. "If you're not going to be making love, can I sleep with you?"