Mailgirls Down Under Pt. 11

"And the cost?" Belinda asked.

"I'll check with Mr Harada," Lindsay promised.

Shane spoke up. "He'll be for it. He always likes new mailgirls." He grinned around the table and tried to get Pam's attention. She made to be totally caught up in her efforts, now twisting a nipple with her free hand. Shane looked to Stuart and gestured at the mailgirl. "We need more of that," Shane told Stuart who acted like he had not noticed her jilling. Betty shook her head. The others refused to react.

Lindsay began to discuss one of their engineering contracts. Stuart looked over to Pam and asked "coffee" in a firm voice. Pam chose not to respond, busy as she was.

"Coffee," Betty hissed at Pam who suddenly stopped what she was doing sat up straight and looked around as if she had just woken.

"Please," Stuart ordered her. Pam stood up, licked her fingers, patted down her landing strip, and asked Stuart how he liked his coffee. She went over to the coffee machine and turned to ask if any others wanted one. Stuart was the only order. When it was ready, Pam carefully walked it around to where Stuart sat. She had to lean close to place it in front of him to Shane's active pleasure and to the private amusement of Lindsay who did not mind seeing the uptight manager squirm whenever a naked office worker got too close to him. She could see that Pam knew exactly what she was doing, how she rested a breast against his arm for just a moment while making sure that she did not spill anything from the cup into the saucer. Lindsay sensed that she may be able to use the mailgirls to her advantage if she could conjure instances like that.

"Any other matters?" Lindsay asked.

Shane spoke up. "Sorry, I could not get it on the papers in time, but something has come up. The journalist Rosemary Millwall wants to do a follow up."

Betty groaned. Lindsay gave her a look then asked Shane "what does she want this time?"

Shane grinned as wide as he could so those who did not already know guessed straight away. "She wants to be a mailgirl for a day."

Belinda butted in. "There are issues, Health and Safety, our liability in case something goes wrong..."

Lindsay cut her off. "Mr Harada will love it. Let's make it happen." Shane smiled at Belinda and that was that.

The meeting finished. Some of the attendees -- Betty and Belinda -- could not get out fast enough. Shane made his way out at the same time as Lindsay, explaining to her how he thought Rosemary's return could play out.

Stuart was not quick to leave and found Pam looming over him, asking if he had finished his coffee yet. They both reached for the cup at the same time and Pam found her hand on top of his. Instinctively he looked up at her as she let him go, her breasts swaying close to his face.

"Sorry," she said.

"I'm finished with it," he replied, trying to keep his even tone.

Still holding eye contact, Pam smiled at Stuart. "I'm a much better babysitter than Annette," she insisted.

Stuart flinched. Then he regained a little dignity. "I am sure there must be babysitters in Melbourne who are not mailgirls," he snapped.

Pam decided not to respond as she picked up the cup this time without confusion and walked it round to the other side of the table, swinging her bare hips as she went. She did not need to spar any further. She had plenty to report back to the mezzanine.

*

Jackson's mobile was ringing as she stepped out of the shower at the end of the day, ready to dry herself and get dressed for outside. It was her friend Samantha. She plonked herself down on her towel on the bench and answered it.

"Samantha, haven't heard from you for a quick while?"

"Hi," said Samantha, "are you at work still? Do you have your clothes on?"

Jackson laughed. "What sort of question is that?"

Samantha laughed back. "We usually don't watch that sort of show but..."

"But?" asked Jackson trying to sound amused at the inference.

"You know the show I'm talking about," Samantha added.

Jackson decided to make her work for revelation, friend or not. "Tell me," she asked, "I'm Not A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here?"

"Very funny. I watched it with Charlotte and Carrie, couldn't get hold of you. Funny that. Charlotte straight away worked out that it's the sort of the thing you'd get tied up in. Since you're no longer with the union, it's obvious you're looking after the downtrodden naked mail women in that Japanese company. Carrie reckons you're probably one of them yourself, but Charlotte and I agree that you would never go that far. You're probably their manager or something."

"I appreciate your faith in me," Jackson smiled. Jan came out of the shower drying her hair and seeing Jackson was engrossed in the call, she ruffled Jackson's hair, tickled her ears and then ran her fingers gently down her back.

"So now that I've finally got you," Charlotte ordered, "you are coming out with us on Friday night to sort this out once and for all. And no excuses." Reaching from behind, Jan twisted Jackson's nipples since Jackson had her hands busy with her call. Jan smiled at how hard they were.

Regardless, Jackson tried to shake Jan off her breasts. "Okay," she conceded over the phone, "I surrender. I'll be there."

"Good," Charlotte replied. "And for God's sake put some clothes on!" She laughed and hung up.

With the call over Jan let go of Jackson and sat herself down on the bench next to her. "I've been thinking," she told Jackson, "how much English do you think Mrs Ogawa has?"

"She doesn't speak English," Jackson replied automatically. Then she stopped. And looked at Jan, concerned.

"Exactly," Jan concluded, "we need to be careful with what we say around her." Jackson nodded. Another thing.

*

Ian Baker sat opposite Pam at a table at the bar. Something clearly was on his mind. "I was watching television on Tuesday night," he started.

She smiled sweetly back at him. "I was out with some of the girls from work," she replied. "What was on?"

Ian tried to look relaxed as he held his gaze into Pam's eyes. "I think you were," he strained.

Pam smiled. "Missing Covergirls of the 2020s, Where Are They Now?" she mugged, holding an innocent smile.

Ian tried to be serious. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Pam flicked her hair back like everything was in order. "I was working up to it," she admitted.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"I don't know, a year or two from now," she smirked. Pam then got a bit more serious. "I was meaning to sooner, really. But then there was the play you took me to. And..." She leaned across the table closer to Ian. "I didn't know if I was allowed to or not."

Ian sat back in thought for a moment. Pam let him for a time and then felt that she needed to break the silence. "Does this change anything between us?" she worried.

Ian relaxed, suddenly realising how tense he had got. "Well," he grinned, "I have a million questions. It's well, interesting. And a bit of a turn on imagining you naked in the office there everyday."

"It's no big deal," Pam started. "It's like modelling but the work is more regular."

"Really?" asked Ian. "I'm in that game, don't forget. I don't think it could be anything like modelling."

"Question for you," Pam decided. "Why did you take me to that play?"

Ian laughed. "I had a hunch. But you played up to them so well, it made me think that there was no way you could be a mailgirl if you thought of them the way you spoke about it on the stage."

"Well now my cover is blown, what now?"

"We should probably go back to my place where I can start to get the details from you about your secret life."

Pam smiled back. "I don't think it is as exciting as you are hoping. But yes, your place sounds a good idea." Now she was worried. Just how much should she tell him?

*

Jonathan Davis, Jan Stephenson's boyfriend was waiting for her when she got home from work Wednesday. "You got home late last night?" he suggested.

Jan smiled at him as she put her bag and flopped on the couch next to him. "Did I? I don't even remember coming home at all," she responded. "Are you sure? I think I spent the night at Jackson's."

"It's possible," Jonathan replied. "So did the girls enjoy it?"

"Not really," Jan admitted, "the general feeling was that they sensationalised us to no real purpose. And it apparently did not even stir things up on the internet."

"I could post something on Facebook?"

"I think you've missed that boat."

"By the way I thought it was pretty grouse." Jonathan thought for a moment. "Whose arse was that you see for a fraction of a second. First I thought it was yours. But then..."

"The hair?"

"Yeah."

"You better not tell me that you like that one better than mine!"

"Yours is here."

"So I have to keep you away from that other one."

"That's not what I meant!" Jonathan protested as Jan stripped off in front of him. He gave her bare bum a light tap. "But yeah, I wouldn't mind seeing that one up close at all."

Jan shook her head. "Be grateful for what you've got," she warned. But on the other hand, she did get to see Pam's arse all day. And it was pretty impressive.

*

Ian and Pam got back to his. They had been chatting about other things on the way, but now inside Ian got back to the point quite quickly. "You were too busy to watch it with me," he accused, firmly and politely.

Pam missed the tone. "Sorry, you know, the work function," she explained.

"No partners?" Ian confirmed.

Pam smiled. "Some of the girls decided to get together. And they invited me over. Making the new girl feel welcome."

"And did they?" Ian asked directly, with a piercing look. "Make the new girl feel welcome?"

"Well actually they did. It was the first time I got to relax with them and start to get to know them. And for them to start to get to know me."

"Should I ask who the girls were?" Ian smiled.

Pam decided that the game was up. She excused herself and left the room thinking about what the other mailgirls had told her at the gathering about their relationships, Jan in particular hinting at honesty in her relationship. Pam found herself in Ian's bathroom. She sighed and got herself ready. She marched back into the living room where Ian was sitting, waiting. It took him a moment. Pam was completely naked.

She shrugged and smiled. "Okay," she admitted, "this is how I dress at work. Happy?"

Pam stood there for a moment. Ian sat. They looked at each other, waiting. Ian spoke up first. "Happy? Not quite yet." Pam watched him, wondering. She did not have to wait long. Ian stretched back on her couch and beckoned her over. "Can I be nice to you?" he asked.

"I guess so," Pam conceded.

"I feel like I owe you something," Ian offered. He gently grasped her legs and drew her towards him so that she straddled him. He took a tentative lick of her pussy and then looked up to her. "Tell me about your day," he asked softly as he went back to work on her with his tongue.

Pam balanced herself on the lounge so that Ian had the access that she needed. "Well," she started, "like most days I went to the office on the tram dressed for the weather, went in, went to our room on the mezzanine floor and took off my clothes to get myself ready."

"Get yourself ready?" Ian asked.

"Tidy myself up. You can see what I do." She leaned back far enough for Ian to easily be able to see all of her pussy. "We don't have to be completely bare of hair if we don't want to, but we do have to be tidy. We get inspected every day," she explained.

"Inspected by your strict boss?"

"No, by our supervisor. She's not strict, she's lovely. Then we wait for our assignments in the office."

"What do you do while you wait?" Ian asked, once again pausing from his good works for a moment.

"I used to cruise the internet when I first started. But some of the other girls are doing courses, professional stuff. I thought I better get some skills too. So I've started a touch typing course. But I'm also doing some office management studies."

Ian shook his head with a smile. "That wasn't the answer I expected. Don't they have punishments for you. And you have to kneel after you've finished your messages wherever you are in the office?"

Pam slapped his arm playfully. "No, silly, that's the States. This is Australia. They have to show respect for us here. Mind you we can do that sort of thing, hang around amongst the other workers if we want, kneel down next to their desks, that sort of thing. Or we can just go back to our place on the mezzanine and get on with our stuff."

"None of this got mentioned in the show," Ian complained. He grabbed her gently by the buttocks as he looked up at Pam's face.

"I guess that's because they didn't ask," Pam decided.

"I guess you get turned on being nude and on display all day there. How do you deal with that?"

Pam slapped her boyfriend gently again. "That's going to have to be a mystery for you," she smiled. "There are some things..." She trailed off for a moment. Then she squeezed Ian's shoulder lightly to attract him back from his ministrations. "It's time for you to get to know me better. Let me help you with the way that I like to get off." She moved one of his hands from her arse to inside her thighs. "Just there," Pam gasped as Ian picked up on what she wanted, making her cum all of a sudden, almost straight away.

"Wow," he said, amazed at his abilities.

"Whew, that was good," Pam gushed, just as happy. "Now it's your turn." She knelt and undid his trousers. As his cock bounced up from its confines, Jan smiled. "Now, how do you feel about me showing everything to everyone all day? Seriously?" Pam gave Ian a teasing, testing look. Ian smiled, just a big grin. Which was the answer she wanted. "I may flaunt my body," Pam continued, "but I don't fuck just anyone." She looked at him with hope. "So?"

Ian looked like he was worrying about things for a moment. Then he grinned. "It's hot!" he exploded.

*

Belinda Clarke and Jackson stood behind a table presenting to a group of eleven men and two women who were seated like a class. Belinda looked managerial, as she should, in her blazer. Jackson being a mailgirl was completely nude. She had grown out a tuft of hair above her slit which was in a kind of rough heart shape.

"I'm the head of HR," Belinda announced.

"And I'm a mailgirl," Jackson added, "if that isn't completely obvious." Jackson thought that would get a laugh. But the group studiously looked back at her, waiting for the presentation to continue.

They took turns to explain to the engineers that as they were now situated on a floor of the Swanston Street office, they were required to complete Mailgirl Induction training so that they would know how the system worked and what was expected of them in how they interacted with the mailgirls.

Jackson started to run through the bullet points about the differences between American mailgirls and Australian ones, stressing that what the engineers may had seen in the videos was not the case in Australia. When she noticed some general disgruntlement amongst the attendees. Jackson looked to Belinda then broke from her script to address the group. "There's a problem?" she asked. She stood facing them relaxed, with her printout of the script in her hand. The five in the front row looked behind them for a spokesperson. Eventually they turn to someone in the second row, an older guy who seemed to be their informal leader.

He cleared his throat and spoke up. "Thanks Jackson," he started, "I'm Mick, Mick Doohan. I think I know what the others want me to say. With all respect and power to you Jackson, I'm not sure what we need them for." A general murmur suggested that Mick was on the money. "What is the problem that we are trying to solve?," he continued, now more confident. "I'm sorry but I'm an engineer. That's the way that we think."

Jackson smiled, sensing that the group was genuinely interested in the point of it all. "Delivering messages," she tried, immediately wondering if that was enough.

Mick looked back at the mailgirl. "But we have email. And text. And I guess, the phone." He seemed genuinely interested in unlocking the problem. If they could get to the bottom of it, the engineers may have a solution which did not require women to take their clothes off.

"Discretion," Jackson tried, wondering if that argument was strong enough. "Via the mailgirl you can be sure that only you and the recipient are involved.

Mick was clearly trying to understand the point of it. "But you're introducing a third party. And we already have end to end encryption. You're old technology. And you would take longer than an electronic message," he wondered.

"We have the app," Jackson replied. But she felt that she was losing the argument.

And Mick leapt onto that one. "Who designed it? Who maintains it?" he asked.

Belinda tried to help Jackson out. "The IT dept with assistance from BAD Solutions downstairs," she responded.

Mick turned to her. "With all respect that means that you've got a third party vendor with access to it. There's a security problem point."

Jackson bit her lip. She felt suddenly exposed with the reason for her nudity stripped away. That tuft of hair just made her situation seem more blatant. And the other matter. Belinda did not know that Jan had hacked the app. And now what if this new group were interested enough and technically capable of finding out?

"The app only records the mailgirl's delivery start and finish. It has no trace of the actual message," Belinda responded.

Mick shook his head. "That's what we call metadata. Which is being stored somewhere." He gave her a serious look to convey the problems with that. Then he lightened up a little. "What if the recipient isn't there?"

Jackson took back over from Belinda, feeling this was her ground. "The mailgirl has to go to look for them. Say the boss wants you for an urgent meeting. They send a mailgirl with a meeting request. If you're not at your desk she has to try to find out where you are while you're away from your email and messaging."

Mick looked a little happier with that. "But when there aren't urgent meetings?" he asked.

Jackson smiled slyly. "I know of at least one person here who sends around wine tips, coffee requests and generally unfunny jokes by mailgirl. Despite the metadata, he doesn't leave a trail of non-work emails and messages on the server."

The bloke sitting next to Mick turned to him. "So they're not a solution to a problem. They're an innovation, a completely new way of doing things, a new paradigm."

One or two of the others breathed out an "ah" at that revelation. "Yes," cried Jackson more vehemently than she intended. Mick looked unsure.

At that moment, the door flew open and Kimiko burst into the room. "I've got it from here," she directed Belinda and Jackson, to the whoops of engineer delight. Obviously her reputation had reached the engineers. They all craned forward as she gestured for the two presenters to move over to the side of the room so that she could run the show.

Kimiko strode out in front of the table and faced the trainees, hands on hips, legs apart. "I don't know what they've been telling you, but the real training starts here," she announced firmly. Belinda and Jackson bent to the inevitable and stepped away to the side.

Kimiko had done herself up for the event. She wore a long blue wig that tasselled to either side of her breasts. And she had made herself up to look like a Japanese doll with white face paint. Of course she was otherwise nude.

"So have any of you ever worked in an office with naked women before?" Kimiko asked looking around. She looked over to Belinda and Jackson. "Where's Stuart? Isn't he supposed to be here?"

Belinda gave Kimiko a 'what can I do' look. So Kimiko continued. "So none of you have, I guess that's not a surprise." She smiled as she looked out over the group which, after the interaction between Mick and Belinda, seemed now empowered to look sceptically at the presentation along with the whole concept. Could she win them back? Even with whatever character Kimiko was playing in front of them? She ignored the tone of the room. "So how do you treat a mailgirl when she comes to your desk?" she challenged. And she strode up close to two of the attendees in the front row.