Mailgirls Down Under Pt. 09

Marjorie Jackson was going up the stairs and found Lauryn Mark going down. "Hey," she called ahead to the other mailgirl, stopping Lauryn who was now on the landing facing her. "I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay," Jackson began, causing Lauryn to stop.

"Sure," Lauryn answered after a moment, avoiding eye contact.

Jackson looked unconvinced as she regarded the other naked woman now they were close. "Yesterday in the meeting in Mitch's office. You didn't seem yourself."

"Nah, everything's okay," Lauryn responded which did not change Jackson's concern about her.

"The visit?" Jackson asked.

"Well, I'll be happier when the camera crew have been and gone."

"But you know we can keep out of their way while they are here.

Lauryn looked troubled. "You know they are going to want mailgirl footage, that's what they will be here for. Keeping out of the way is not going to be that simple."

"Hopefully it will happen and blow over." Jackson sighed loudly. "Lauryn, you're the closest friend I have here. You're the only one I want to do this with." She reached for Lauryn's upper thigh, gently stroked it, and to her relief Lauryn did not back away. In fact she looked to Jackson a little pleadingly but she did not appear to mind when Jackson reached between her legs, ran a finger gently between her lips.

Lauryn gave Jackson a half-smile. "That's nice," she conceded. "But I have Fanny waiting for me. She wants to interrogate me further about my holiday. So later?"

Jackson nodded and let the other mailgirl continue on her way. She watched Lauryn descend out of her sight admiring the sight of her from the back. Like Jackson she had slender hips and a tight bottom which only slightly swelled to the sides. Nothing there to grip onto, Jackson smiled, as she considered that Lauryn was indeed the mailgirl she was closest to. Sure she had also known Fanny from before, but Fanny was usually in researcher mode; you always felt that she was collecting everything that you said or did near her as data for her research. Jackson could never quite relax around her. Was that unfair on Fanny? She would have to ask Lauryn about her interview. The short encounter with Lauryn had left Jackson with an empty feeling, unsettled. She needed to resolve things there. She licked her fingers that still tasted of Lauryn and then found her clit.

*

"Ah, here you are." Lindsay Davenport had walked around an unpainted partition on the 11th floor to find her new manager Stuart Broad busy at his desk. "The place is pretty much a building site," she noted, looking around. Stuart grunted his acknowledgement of that in a way that suggested he was busy and she may be the boss, but she was wasting his time with the small talk. She looked over to confirm that the tradies setting up the rest of the office were out of hearing range. She got to the point. Her demeanour made that clear. "Stuart, I think you need to tone it down if we are going to get anywhere with these people." She hoped for some solidarity between the two of them, Americans, sent over to sort out the Australian office.

Stuart looked up to his boss with a scowl at being interrupted. "Are you getting soft, Davenport?" he sneered. "You and I know what these people need."

Was that true, Lindsay wondered to herself. Was she really like him? But she kept that private. "You don't much like the mailgirls," she pointed out. "And they're not happy with you."

That took Stuart by surprise. "Why should I?" he recoiled.

Lindsay smiled. "Consider the situation. You are here and your family has yet to come over and join you. And we have a number of naked young women to stare at," she suggested.

"I choose not to look," Stuart muttered.

"Oh really?" Lindsay smiled, "Not even for a moment?" She typed casually at her phone as she studied the man sitting in front of her.

"I won't let anything threaten my marriage," Stuart firmly asserted.

"So not even a hint of a thought," Lindsay prodded.

"You wouldn't understand," Stuart retorted.

"Because I'm a woman?"

"Because you're not married."

At that moment Annette Kellerman, athletic and of course naked, came around the partition. "Oh there you are," she declared and strode over to Stuart's desk. She put one hand on the desk, so somehow she was between Lindsay and Stuart. "You have a message?" she asked Lindsay. Stuart made to look back down at his work.

"Stuart asked me to call a mailgirl," Lindsay told her with a glint.

"Problem with the app?" Annette mused. She leant over Stuart to have a look. "Show me," she suggested as the man tried to squirm back as her pert breasts dangled close to his face when she leant further forward to try to help. Totally unselfconsciously. Her face close to his. Annette picked up Stuart's mobile, brought up the app and typed and scrolled for a few moments. "You've used up all your guest requests," she told him. "You need to do the course," she added plainly as she stood there invitingly. She adjusted her stance, legs astride as if she needed to better balance herself.

"The fucking mailgirl course," Stuart seethed.

"No, the respecting mailgirl course," Annette corrected him softly as if he had made an accidental error.

Lindsay smirked as the self-described family man looked up in anger to find that he was staring at a naked young woman whose breasts and pussy were clearly visible, the mailgirl acting completely unconcerned at any effect that she may have had on her viewer. She had him. He was too distracted to speak. Until he looked away from Annette at Lindsay and then away from Lindsay and into blank space. He silently counted to three. "You should be on your knees waiting for my message," he ordered, trying to assert himself.

Annette did not flinch and did not move. "I think you really need to do the course," she replied softly.

Lindsay bit her lip.

*

Lauryn meantime settled down with Fanny on the benches on the mezzanine. In accord with the new requiremnts, Wendy Turnbull, their supervisor, looked up from her laptop every so often to check on the two mailgirls who had set themselves up at the other end of the room to her, giving them some semblance of privacy. Well, some semblance, for the moment.

Annette Kellerman strode into the room, back from her delivery for Stuart. "Still getting used to not wearing clothes again?" she fired off at Lauryn with a smile. Lauryn rolled her eyes, what an original comment. Annette went up to Wendy, ran a finger through her supervisor's hair. "Are you going to get dolled up for the cameras?" she asked Wendy who tried to make light of the taunt. Annette let her go and continued onto the shower. "Freshening up for the next call," she announced as she disappeared from their area. If she was in any way flustered about her Stuart altercation she did not show it.

Which allowed Fanny to concentrate back on Lauryn. Her interviewee sat with her, arms crossed over her breasts, legs together. Fanny poised towards her quarry, laptop on her knees to take notes. Naturally, her large breasts swayed as she looked from Lauryn to the screen and back. Fanny seemed completely unconscious of that.

Lauryn smiled. "See what I have to put up with since I got back from holidays?" she mock complained.

"Must be terrible," Fanny mock consoled.

"That's not the worst," Lauryn continued, "I don't know if tan lines are a good or bad things here." She looked to Fanny for help. They both laughed. "I don't know," Lauryn continued, "I don't like being too much the centre of attention."

"Interesting," Fanny observed. "Of course I am trying to get inside your head," Fanny warned her. "You know about my research. So what I want to find out is how you were reacting to being able to wear clothes all day while you were on holidays from here. Do you wear clothes at home?"

"Of course I do!" Lauryn seemed shocked.

Fanny tried to placate her. "You'd be surprised. Some of our mailgirls take their clothes off as soon as they get home. They say it feels more normal for them after their day here."

"Do you?"

"Let's just say that I wear less clothes at home than I used to." Fanny shrugged. "I didn't realise that was what I was doing until I thought about it after interviewing the others recently. I realised also that I've been wearing the least amount of clothing between here and home."

Lauryn looked around, confirmed that no one else was within listening distance. "I'm glad to get out of here each night," she confided.

"You don't like the job?"

Lauryn shook her head. "I don't hate it. But to me it is, when all is said and done, just a job. In the before times, when I was a business analyst, I didn't take my work home, to use that cliché. I did my job in the office and at the end of each day, I went home, relaxed, had dinner, was a girlfriend, went out or stayed in and didn't give work much thought until I was back in here the next day. I thought I could do the same as a mailgirl. I thought the nudity would be no big deal, but it is a lot different. Maybe I should have seen that."

"Like your status, how you are treated in the office?"

Lauryn stretched herself out, then self-consciously wrapped her arms tight, covering her bust. "If you haven't heard my stories, it seems that my status has gone up here since I took my clothes off. I never realised that was what would happen."

"Sorry, I don't think I know about that. Do you want to explain?" Fanny was curious.

"My business analyst work -- when I get the chance to do it -- seems to be taken more seriously now that I do it with my tits showing."

"Interesting, I did not know."

"Maybe it's the business analyst in me, but I take a long view of this phase of my career." Lauryn gave a little laugh. "I can't imagine that I would be naked in an office for too long, say in ten years or so, so I have to think about my career, the real one. I mean it's fine for you. You are clearly aiming for academia or something, I don't know, in the media or somewhere as an authority on mailgirls, so this is going to directly help you get there. But take Annette. What is she going to be doing in ten years' time?"

Of course this was precisely the time that Annette came out of the shower area still drying her hair, letting it bounce off her shoulders as she swished it around to give it some shape. "Are you talking about me?" she asked well knowing that Lauryn had just mentioned her.

Fanny looked over and smiled at Annette. "Where are you going to be in ten years' time?" she echoed Lauryn.

Annette shrugged. "Oh that. No idea, I could be anywhere." She looked at Lauryn who did not seem comfortable. "Well, I could still be doing this. Or maybe not. I don't know."

"Do you wear clothes at home?" Lauryn asked her.

"Hell no," she replied adamantly, "this is freedom." As well as splaying her arms to emphasise her exclamation, she also spread her legs a little wide, underlining how free she felt. At that moment they all stopped at the sound of a familiar beeping and checked their apps. "Me again," Annette sang out. "Aren't I the popular girl today!"

And with that she was off, leaving Lauryn and Fanny alone again under the occasionally watchful eye of Wendy who was mostly concentrating on her own laptop. Lauryn again looked pained which Fanny picked up on immediately. "What is it?" she asked gently.

Lauryn looked down at the floor and took a moment to answer. "You're going to think I'm stupid," she started. Fanny looked at her encouragingly, so she took a deep breath and continued. "When I took this on, I thought the novelty would soon wear off. That everyone would get used to us and this would be no big deal." She gestured at her body, her obvious state of undress and display.

Fanny nodded empathetically. "I think that was a bit optimistic," she suggested. "But hopefully I'm being delicate here because I would like to draw this out, what, did you imagine that eventually you could just wander around the office invisibly all day?"

Lauryn again took a moment to organise her thoughts. But this time she looked Fanny in the eyes. "You know when you see or do something a number of times and it becomes routine? I'm trying to think of an example. Like touch typing. I can type out some words that I use a lot in my analysis like, I don't know, 'profit margin' for example, without even thinking about them. And I thought that after everyone using the mailgirl service had seen my breasts and my butt a few dozen times the novelty would wear off. But no." She looked plaintively at Fanny.

Fanny looked kindly at her. "But you're a naked girl -- and an attractive one -- in a clothed office. And that is always going to be a novelty."

"Do you have evidence for that?"

Fanny retracted. "Good point. I was generalising rather than testing. Let me backtrack. I too would have imagined that the novelty would wear off, a bit anyway. Although men being men..." She thought for a moment before recasting her opinion. "But we don't have evidence. And partly that is because things in Japan and the US are always changing."

Lauryn nodded. "Things change here too, the new management, the engineers coming to the eleventh floor and now the TV people coming," she agreed.

Fanny agreed. "There's always going to be change. But on the other hand, if this is not for you, you can always quit."

Lauryn shook her head. "I'm a sticker. And I still do my BA work every so often too. You may think I'm being strange but I'm not completely averse to being a mailgirl. I am pretty proud of this..." She leant back on her hands, her breasts pointing at Fanny, her flat stomach heaving a little. She even spread her legs, swivelled one knee to completely expose herself. Then she sat back up. "But you know sometimes it gets me down, and this is one of those times."

Fanny reached over to gently grip the other woman's arm. "I get what you're saying but it's different for me. As you said."

Lauryn let the other mailgirl run her hand further up her arm, just grazing her breast. "As you say, you are visiting, you're a tourist here taking the experience for your own ends."

Fanny leaned closer. "And I hope by exploring as much of it as I can I am demystifying the experience. Ultimately making it better for everyone," she continued gently playing with Lauryn's nipples, first the one she had grazed, then reached over for the other.

Lauryn seemed to relax under Fanny's carress, but still she continued. "I'm worried about the way things seem to be changing here."

Fanny retracted her hand, trying to show that she was concerned about more than making Lauryn's nipples hard. "Are you coping?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

Lauryn deflected that. She spread her legs again. "I grew back my bush."

Fanny ran her fingers through the hair above Lauryn's slit as she lay right back, apparently allowing the researcher to do whatever she chose. Fanny let her fingers caress a little lower. "We've got the rules they have to abide by," she reminded Lauryn as she fingered her slit. "And we've always got Jackson."

Lauryn groaned. "I guess you're right," she heaved. She humped her hips and let out a gasp "Could you keep doing that for a little longer?" she urged.

Wendy looked over and smiled. Because she had already looked out of the room and knew that the mailgirls had a small audience watching them.

*

Jackson sat opposite Lindsay Davenport as usual trying to get her full attention while the manager worked at her computer. Eventually Jackson gave up waiting. "Lindsay, they are going to be here in half an hour."

Lindsay glared over her desk at the mailgirl. "It would be nice if you gave me more notice than this," she snarled.

Jackson took a deep breath and remembered her time as a union negotiator. She gave Lindsay her nicest smile. "I know you're busy, but I sent you these conditions in an email on Friday."

"So it's an ultimatum," Lindsay snapped.

"No, I wouldn't put it like that. It's simply the rules we are going to follow if you want us on the telecast. We have a contract, you know."

Lindsay took a deep, loud breath. "Well, okay. It seems that I have no control over what you do." She tried to lighten up her mood. "But please, can two mailgirls be present when I do my interview? That's all I'm going to ask." She gave Jackson a hopeful look that almost worked, given the way things had started between them.

"Sure," Jackson smiled, "I'll see who wants to do it." And she stood up to leave. And looked around the office. "Where's Stuart?" she asked.

Lindsay shot Jackson a conspiratorial look. "I gave him the day off," she answered.

"Wise," Jackson agreed and shook her head. Management getting time off for having the wrong worldview.

"I could have chained him to his new desk on the eleventh floor, but that's probably not a good look." Lindsay smiled hoping for a connection moment with Jackson who missed it. "Oh come on," Lindsay snorted. "You're all giving as good as you get there."

Jackson relented and smiled. "So long as no one gets hurt," she laughed grudgingly, for Lindsay's benefit as she left the office.

Still shaking her head, she made her way past Betty Cuthbert's desk outside, giving the PA a friendly smile and then continued down to the mezzanine to tell the others the news and ask for volunteers.

Just before the agreed time, Shane was down on the ground floor waiting. He wondered for a moment whether there would be a time when there would be a mailgirl down in the foyer looking out onto Swanston Street waiting for visitors to arrive. After all, that should be a job for the lower grades. But this was an important greeting to get right. Mr Harada would expect a report, Lindsay Davenport had personally requested it, and perhaps millions would be watching it on TV.

Finished with his musements, Shane noticed a woman slightly shorter than him standing purposefully outside the building talking to a camera held by one crewman while a mike boom was being held near her by another woman. The woman was doing her intro outside the building, no doubt warning that she was about to enter a lion's den, Melbourne's secretive, most controversial business, or some other lurid promise. Mind, the reporter looked wholesome, soft facial features framed by blonde hair loosely flowing to just below the collar of a prim, sensible deep green blouse. Her pencil skirt finished above her knees adding to the impressive of an attractive, confident woman. Shane decided he liked her already. She finished her piece and turned to glance inside, no doubt looking for Shane. He crossed his arms and waited.

While he wondered. How would she react to the mailgirls? What would she say, what was her angle? Would this change things in the office? He was about to find out. Finished with her intro work, and with the crew poised to record her descent into this den, she strode into the foyer and straight up to Shane. The camera operator, an older man dressed neatly but not ostentatiously who was affecting to have seen it all and the boom carrier, a quite young woman in loose coveralls, did their job keeping pace with the reporter, both trying to match her air of detachment.

The reporter held out a hand. "Rosemary Millwall," she announced. "You're Shane Crawford," she added as she gripped his hand. She gestured at her two companions. "Daryl Braithwaite, Debra," she advised Shane, somewhat offhand about the boom carrier who seemed to accept that.

Shane smiled at all of them. "Let's take you up and get you started," he responded as he led them to the lifts. As they ascended to the sixth floor, Shane began to explain the ground rules that the mailgirls had set.

"I hope that won't upset things too much," he asked.

"I thought the mailgirls submitted to management and all the other workers," Rosemary asked raising her eyebrows.