Mailgirls Down Under Pt. 07

Sarah looked surprised. "Well, what is it then?" she queried. And she cheekily flicked a bra strap off her shoulder.

The Boss glared at her and continued. "Mailgirl is not this cheap titillation. It is the subjugation of the worker to the needs and desires of the corporation. The requirement is that the mailgirl removes all clothes with a minimum of theatre, dispossessed of her possessions and their artifice around her. The aim is that she is naked, not that she gets naked."

Sarah hung her head. "I see. I am sorry."

The Boss was not finished. "However, the stripping of the mailgirl is a spectacle regardless. It is necessary that the workers see her transformed from nondescript office girl to naked mailgirl."

Sarah and Pam both responded with surprise. "Why?" they asked.

The Boss stood, his hands on his hips. "It is reflective of the situation that exists in the office workplace. Whether the workers realise it or not. All workers are mailgirls."

The audience laughed. Was it embarrassment? Or maybe just such a cheesy line.

The Boss ignored that and continued. "The mailgirl taking her clothes off on entering the workplace and performing her functions naked during the day is a metaphor for the unequal struggle of all workers against the power of capital. Marx said..."

Sarah stamps her foot. "Enough!" she exclaims, shutting up The Boss. She turns to face him and so is side-on to the audience. She unclips her bra and hands it to The Boss, slips down her panties like it's the most natural thing to do in the office and hands those over. She steps out of her shoes and rolls down her stockings, standing for a moment in only her garter belt. She puts her hands on her hips, mirroring the attitude The Boss had earlier shown her. Then she relaxes, slips the garter belt over her hips and down and hands all the rest to The Boss.

Sarah then curtseys The Boss and turns to give one to the audience who, happy to be given the attention of the now naked woman, give her supportive applause.

The Boss turns to concentrate on Pam again. "You see how easy it is to become a mailgirl. There's your proof that the workers are only a short step away from all becoming mailgirls."

"But only the women," Pam argued back.

The Boss smiled dangerously at Pam and then looked over at Bill who is trying to convince that he is working hard at something. The Boss picks up a sheet of paper. "Mailgirl," he orders Sarah, "deliver this message to Bill."

Sarah obediently takes the sheet, and strides over, past Pam until she stands close by Bill who is apparently still concentrating on his work. She waits there for a moment but Bill apparently does not notice her. So she coughs. Bill looks up to see that his previously dressed colleague now stands naked in front of him.

"Wha??" he starts but Sarah cuts him off.

"I'm now a mailgirl," she announces proudly as he blatantly looked her over. She then goes down on one knee, bows her head and flourishes the sheet of paper from The Boss in Bill's direction. "I have a message for you," she almost needlessly adds as her large breasts wobble right up close to Bill.

In the final scene of the play, Bill is still clothed despite kneeling in a mailgirl pose as Sarah and Emily kneel the same way on either side of him. Pam is still on the stage, sitting and watching, somewhat aghast as The Boss inspects each of them, adjusting them just a little, first lifting Sarah's chin, then extending Bill's back.

"This," the boss announces to the room, "is the future of work."

After a brief silence when it seems that The Boss is right, Sarah glares at him. "You're not a good man," she observes.

"No," The Boss agrees, "I'm a boss."

And with that the show ends.

*

Pam was laughing as she and Ian marched down Lygon Street while he regaled her with her best lines from the show.

"You're not upset about me turning down the after party?" she asked.

"Well a bit," Ian answered trying to look sombre about it. "Passing up a chance to hang out with famous actors and get myself known."

"Men," Pam complained although secretly happy that they avoided the cast gathering where she might get more scrutiny about her proximity to mailgirls than she wanted. Having to explain why had Ian dobbed her in. Men, indeed.

"That's us," Ian joked, to prove that everything was all right. "How about here?" he asked. They were outside a bar that looked not too full and seemed not to be about to close for the night.

"Looks fine," Pam agreed so in they went. Ian let Pam go first admiring how she attracted attention from everyone in the place. Even the no doubt blasé barman kept his eyes on Pam a little longer than just a polite glance. She swished her long blonde hair back, just as a model would, creating further fantasies in those watching as she wriggled to be comfortable in her seat., stretching her long bare legs.

Ian sat down opposite happy to catch the reflection of her radiance. "Drink?" he asked.

"I think it calls for champagne," Pam grinned. Ian did too. Champagne sounded promising.

"Thanks for sending me up on the stage," Pam joshed Ian as she enjoyed her bubbles.

Ian felt carried away by the proceedings of the night and now the champagne. "You went up there because you're a mailgirl," he tried as flat and bland as he could.

Pam gave him a look of mock horror. "I went up there because I had no option, what with the spotlight and the chanting. Who knows what they would have done to me if I hadn't?"

Ian gave Pam a searching look. "You seemed to know a lot about the thing. It almost looked like you were part of the cast and your role was rehearsed. Special knowledge?"

"Oh, you keep trying," Pam laughed. "I had a lot of fun pretending to know something about your obsessions. If I was a mailgirl, do you think I could be a feminist like I was up there?"

Ian changed his tack. "You seemed very relaxed on the stage. You're a natural."

Pam swished her hair again and looked around to make sure that others were watching. "I'm used to being the centre of attention," she reminded him. "You know, like when people are taking fashion photos of me."

"And yet you came out with all that stuff?"

"Stuff?"

"All that stuff about how mailgirls should be treated."

"Common sense really. I mean I know about mailgirls, probably as much as you do. Maybe I have a woman's perspective on this rather than a man's, particularly a man who has spent too much of his time around glamour shoots." Pam stopped herself as she realised his point. "Oh, you were surprised that I was so articulate."

Before Ian could answer, a hip young man who was sitting with two well dressed young women who were dolled up for a night out came up to their table. Pam smiled radiantly at him. He reassembled himself and coughed politely. "Sorry, you look familiar. I've seen you somewhere," he asserted.

"The June fashion supplement?" Pam asked sweetly.

"Maybe," he faltered.

"What a shame you didn't bring it, I would have signed it for you," Pam smiled.

Ian nodded his agreement at this offer. "She would have too," he added. The dude returned to his table, to explain to his companions. Pam sipped at her drink as if the interruption did not matter to her.

Ian returned to his topic. "You really nailed that role up on stage. You would make such a great mailgirl."

Pam smiled patronisingly at him. "In your dreams. And did you notice that I was the one who kept their clothes on?"

Ian tried one last time. "Do you think the two girls made good mailgirls?"

Pam shook her head with a grin. "You're so subtle. You've seen the movies, I'll bet. Everyone has. And you saw them perform tonight. It doesn't look too difficult, you just have to run around naked. Tell me, do you think they made good mailgirls?" Pam kept her thoughts about how hard it could sometimes be to herself. After all, she was enjoying being in clothes talking to a man whom she found interesting. If only he could just let that mailgirl fixation go.

Ian thought he saw a chance. "They weren't bad. But they're not a patch on you, you know."

Pam sighed. "They told me that the performance was a protest against mailgirls, if that wasn't obvious by the way we all acted. I assume that wasn't lost on you?" She enjoyed the confusion she had created in Ian, so obvious on his face. She smiled.

Ian saw a chance. "It's getting late," he advised, "and it's a Thursday."

Pam nodded at him. "Yes, you can take me home." They both sensed the chemistry between them.

*

"Still looking for love in the wrong places?" Destinee asked.

"What makes you ask that?" Jackson replied. She stretched out on her front, naked on Destinee's massage table. Destinee proceeding to thump her back with her fists, alternating between that and squeezing Jackson's shoulders with her strong fingers trying to get the tension out.

"Well," Destinee replied, "if you were finding love in the right places you wouldn't be here, would you?" Jackson groaned as the masseuse found a severely tight spot and got to work on it. "You're so tense. And it's after midnight," she continued, "and if you had found it -- or even just someone to pretend with -- you would be tucked up in bed with that warm body so you will be refreshed bright and early when you get back to the office to start your work. You wouldn't be here. And like this."

"Maybe I just need your expert attention to get the tension out of me."

Destinee did not buy that. "Maybe you also need this." She traced her fingers down Jackson's back and then between her tight buttocks. Jackson groaned at that pleasantry. Deciding Jackson could wait before she got any more of that, Destinee stopped her progress between her client's legs and gripped at Jackson's firm bottom with both hands. "That working environment of yours certain agrees with you," she admired. "This bottom is all muscle. Impressive."

Destinee worked her hands there and presently let fingers again find their way into Jackson's cleft and further down. Jackson groaned. "I wish someone else would be impressed," she murmured as she let Destinee's expert fingers work their magic.

"So how are things going with the boss?" Destinee asked.

"New boss," Jackson reported.

"And what happened to the old one?"

"He sits in a secluded office all day pretending not to be unhappy."

"You can't cheer him up?"

"I think he's avoiding me." Jackson had not realised that was the case until she said it.

"Oh. And the new boss. What's he like?"

"She. And she's..." Jackson grasped for the right words as Destinee continued to finger her in just the right way. "Something. I don't know," she tailed off, distracted by her increasing arousal.

Destinee took off her robe so that she was naked too and gently took Jackson by the hand to lead her away from the firm massage table to the bed. "I know what you need," she smiled as she placed Jackson down on the bed and embraced her.

Destinee held Jackson against her sumptuous breasts. Jackson gripped her hands around the masseuse's neck, surrendering totally to her caresses. Destinee appeared to be still worried about Jackson's state. "When was the last time you looked out for yourself girl?" she asked.

Jackson knew it was a good question. Along with the other good questions. But for the moment Destinee was working her magic. And that would do.

*

The function room oozed luxury. Cara reclined on a curved green leather lounge, sipping a cocktail. Sarah planted herself on the lounge close to Cara and smiled at her. She was on the champagne. "Great choice for the after party," Sarah gushed, "it's so plush."

"You like it?" Cara asked a little too eagerly. "We were lucky to get this private room. It's in demand." She looked around keenly, checking that everything was in order.

"You can relax now Cara," the actor smiled. "It's all over for you."

"And for you too," Cara suggested. She tried to relax back in her seat.

Sarah smiled professionally back at her. "You get to go back to what you were doing before you dabbled in this -- not to say that you didn't do a great job because you did. But I have to wait and see what a night frolicking naked on a stage does for my fledgling career."

Cara looked surprised. "But you're young, attractive and a great actor."

Sarah shook her head. "I took a chance. You never know what a performance like that does to you. I might be shunned for loose morals or something. Or I might be hired for more of the same, sentenced to take my clothes off on stage if I want to work. Or nothing. I may have to find out how to get work as a mailgirl," she laughed and nodded towards the group nearby.

Emily was chatting to Rob, Bill and a few members of the crew. She was her usual self, bright eyed and animated while she shared a joke with them. And she was naked. Rob and Bill seemed to act like it was no big deal. Rob looked her in the eyes as he said something quite definite to her, to the amusement of the others in their circle.

Emily nodded and left the group to head over to Sarah and Cara. She knelt at Cara's feet then spread her knees and arched her back. She looked down at the plush carpet in front of her.

"Cara, I have a message for you from Rob," she announced.

Sarah butted in. "Emily, you're not a mailgirl any more," she tried.

Emily looked up and stared at Sarah plaintively. "But I want to be!" she insisted.

Cara looked to Sarah, her face saying 'what can I do?' Then she turned back to her sister. "Yes mailgirl, what is your message?"

"Rob said that he is coming over here to keep an eye on me."

This was true. Rob led the rest of his group over to where two of the women sat and the other knelt.

"Such dedication," Rob observed looking down at the naked woman still holding her position.

"To the cause!" Emily added. She was now shifting around, making eye contact.

"What cause?" Rob asked.

"To end the oppression of the working class and the liberation of the proletariat from the capitalist yoke," Emily offered earnestly.

"Oh that stuff," Rob considered as if he had just heard that sort of talk for the first time. Cara, Sarah and the rest around the room looked on with some amusement.

Emily though was incentivised. "All that stuff you were saying. I thought you were one of us," she complained. Her breasts heaved with the strength of someone fighting for a cause she believed in.

Rob gave her piercing look. "I'm an actor," he stated.

"Betrayed!" Emily cried out. She stretched over and rested her head on her sister's knee. Cara leant down and gently stroked her sister's hair.

Bill smiled at Cara's sign of affection towards the naked Emily who now gripped Cara's knees so that she could rest her head in her lap. "Ooh, sisters!" he exclaimed.

Cara looked over and eyeballed him hard. "Not going to happen," she warned.

Sarah joined Bill's suggestion, egged her on. "Just a little?" she asked.

Cara turned to her on the couch, wide-eyed. "No!" she repeated. And looked to Emily for support. But all she got from her sister was a non-committal smile. Was she up for it? "Jesus, no," Cara emphatically answered.

Sarah pretended not to hear that. "Maybe if we get you drunk?" she wondered. And she looked around.

Bill quickly went to the bar and returned with a glass of champagne which he forced on Cara. And another one for Emily. "To Mailgirls In The Office," he toasted. They all had glasses ready.

"Long may they deliver!" boomed Rob in his stage voice. And then dramatically drained his glass. The others followed suit and then they all stared at Cara who had sipped hers.

"To Mailgirls In The Office," Emily ordered her sister who grimaced and then downed the contents of her glass to the delight of the others.

*

The party went on. Peer pressure meant that Cara had succumbed to Sarah and had finished off a few more drinks. And she was getting louder, at that moment haranguing Rob about whether he actually believed in anything at all. So most of the room had at least one eye on her. Sarah muscled in on them and gave her another champagne, snatching the almost finished previous one away from her before she could complain or react. Cara surprised everyone by giving a Sarah a sloppy kiss on the cheek as she uttered her thanks. Sarah still looked shocked at that as Cara then glided over to her sister who was regaling two of the crew with a story that she thought was funny. Opening ogling her, standing close to the points of her breasts, the crew guys did not want to mess up their moment, a chance of something more with the naked Emily.

And now they had Cara there in front of them too. Their eyes dilated when Cara wrapped her arm over her naked sister's shoulder. "You were pretty good tonight," Cara slurred, her mouth close to her sister's ear.

Emily gleamed back at her sister. "Wasn't I?!" she exclaimed. Cara gave her a peck on the cheek and looked lasciviously at the men who were luckily so close to the sisters and were now completely concentrating from only an arm's length away to see what would happen next.

Cara gave the two of them a glazen look. "What do you want me to do?" she asked like she really didn't know what was possible in her state.

This was too good to pass up. "The nipple," one of them blurted, hoping to get some action by suggesting tiny steps. Since Cara's hand was already so very close.

"The nipple?" Cara slurred.

"Yeah," they both chimed, reckoning that now was the moment as Emily glanced from man to man to sister with wonder in her eyes. The men's hope was obvious. Sister on sister, since the one who had been ordering them around during the production was now drunk as a skunk and up for it. They grinned at Cara and she grinned back, still draped over Emily who started to look concerned at what seemed likely to happen next.

Cara drooped down towards Emily's naked breasts, her mouth tantalisingly close. And then she suddenly looked up at the men with an evil glint in her eyes. "Do you think I was that drunk?" she snapped at them, a wide grin on her face.

"Um, well," they both stammered. Cara stood straight up letting go of Emily, clearly as sober as anyone in the room.

Emily beamed. "That's my sis," she laughed, quite likely relieved.

Cara smiled at her. "But you were great tonight," she repeated. "Wasn't she boys?" she asked the two crewmen.

"Yes," they again both stammered as one. They both smiled hopefully at Emily switching their wishes from a sisters show to now wondering again about their chances of getting off with the naked one. She had to be up for it, surely? They both sidled closer.

Emily held her radiant smiled but created some moral distance with the men. "You know the mailgirls rules, right?" she asked. They shook their heads, looked at each other and then back at her. "No touching, boys," she announced as she stepped back out of their reach.

Cara, still standing by her sister, was back in director mode. "I'm glad that it was one night only since we pretty much threw away the script when that woman came on stage," she told Emily. Then she turned to the men. "And you too did pretty well to keep up with what was happening." The two of them smiled appreciating the praise, taking whatever they could from a situation that had seemed far more promising a short moment before.

Emily appeared to now ignore them and gave Cara all her attention. "Do you think she was a mailgirl?" she asked. Then she realised that the whole group had moved over close while Cara was acting drunk.

Rob, The Boss butted in. "She was pretty opinionated. Gave me a run for my money."

Emily stuck to her point. "But was she a mailgirl? What are the chances?" she asked generally.

One of the crew spoke up. "We videotaped it," he told her.

That encouraged Emily. "Good. I can track her down," she decided. "Did anyone get her name?"