Mailgirls Down Under Pt. 11

And Betty was staring at her breasts while she still kept mashing them together. Fanny tripped back to reality wondering, what was going on in Betty's mind at the moment?

Betty stopped that though, as she reverted to her felicitous self. "Who's the lucky person?" the PA asked the mailgirl, with a real interest in her life.

*

Mrs Ogawa had told Kimiko what she wanted to drink -- a crisp white wine -- and encouraging Kimiko to order whatever she wanted, had sent her to the bar with her credit card.

"We could wait for the table service," Kimiko suggested but Mrs Ogawa did not want that, so Kimiko left their table as she wished. Still controlling, Kimiko grumbled to herself. But as she returned with their drinks, a malt whisky for herself with just one icecube, Kimiko recognised what Mrs Ogawa was up to. She sat alone at their table which was pretty much in the centre of the room, a sort of aloof look on her face which an enterprising type may see as a challenge, as she carefully examined everyone else in the bar. Mrs Ogawa wanted that moment alone to assess the others there and to try to control the room. Typical Mrs Ogawa behaviour.

Kimiko chose to attempt to deflate the domineering woman when she sat back down. "You could have worn something less severe. If we are here for what I think we are here for," she stated flatly.

Mrs Ogawa held her superior poise. "This is me. I am being honest."

Kimiko decided she could be critical, given they were in public. "An uptight Office Lady?"

Mrs Ogawa darkened a little, as Kimiko had hoped. "Just as well we are not in the office now."

Kimiko found she was enjoying herself. "That is why I am talking to you like this, because we are not in the office now. You know the rules. Everything stops at the foyer of the office."

Mrs Ogawa backed down. "Yes, you are right," the older woman admitted as she looked around the room again. Two well-dressed youngish men still in their business suits, strolled in. They acted not to notice anyone else, apparently deep in a conversation of their own. They did not notice Mrs Ogawa examine them. She turned back to give Kimiko her attention. "I like your dress," she told the mailgirl. "You have chosen nicely for this situation. The floral pattern suits you." She neglected to mention that the dress was short, revealing a lot of Kimiko's shapely thighs.

Kimiko sipped her drink. "Thank you." She gave Mrs Ogawa a brief examination. "I can take you shopping for some going out clothes, something more appropriate." And smiled, archly. "Now while we're breaking down the barriers, what can I call you?"

Mrs Ogawa did not hesitate. "Ogawa-san."

Kimiko shook her head. "I mean what can I introduce you to the gaijin as? You do have a first name?"

Mrs Ogawa glared at Kimiko. "Such impertinence." Would there be a price to pay?

But Kimiko persevered. "That's me. You know who I am. So what is it?"

Mrs Ogawa sighed loudly. "You can tell them my name is Maria."

Kimiko smiled. "You're kidding, right?"

Mrs Ogawa's face darkened a little. "It will do," she stated and that was that. She looked around. "Those two," she ordered.

Kimiko looked around the bar and noticed the two men in suits had taken a table not too far away from them. The men were still deep in their conversation over a shared bottle of red wine. "Okay then," Kimiko told Mrs Ogawa, "I'm going to tell them I am here with my uptight mother from Japan who doesn't know any English but I want to show her a good time."

Mrs Ogawa chose not to respond, to wait on Kimiko's attempt. And indeed, Kimiko went over to the two men, interrupted their conversation and gestured back towards Mrs Ogawa who stared back stonily. However, whatever Kimiko said seemed to work. She returned to the older woman and advised that the two men were happy to get to know them and then escort the two of them the short distance to Mrs Ogawa's hotel.

Out in the street, on the way, Kimiko looked worried. "Are you sure about this?" she asked Mrs Ogawa.

Mrs Ogawa seemed relaxed. "Not what I expected of you, Kimiko." She even tried to smile at the two men who seemingly knew no Japanese.

Kimiko checked again. "So anything goes?" she asked Mrs Ogawa.

Mrs Ogawa gave her the smallest nod. "Trust me, I'll be in control," she stated like it was going to be easy. Because everything was always within her control.

In Mrs Ogawa's hotel room Kimiko reminded her which of the men was Todd and which was Mark as, with drinks in hand from her well stocked bar, they lounged on the sofas in what seemed to be an ante room. Kimiko realised that she should not be surprised that the visitor was staying in a suite. Mrs Ogawa told Kimiko what to ask the men next.

Kimiko smiled sweetly at them. "She would like to know if you would like to be tied up."

Todd did not seem to flinch at the offer. "Your mother?" he asked, as if to confirm what the deal was.

Kimiko tried to put on an honest face. "Sorry, she's not mother. She is actually my boss. But she is also an acclaimed shibari practitioner. This is a rare opportunity for you, to experience the work of an expert practitioner."

Mark who had seemed to be letting Todd take the lead now looked to him then to Kimiko. "Does it hurt?" he asked.

Kimiko smiled over at him. "Do you want it to?"

Todd interrupted them. "She looks rather severe." He looked over to Mrs Ogawa who was staring back at him.

Kimiko laughed like they had read the situation wrongly. "Don't let her looks fool you. She's quite fun when she's out of her office uniform. I mean she's still sadistic, but she's quite fun." Kimiko spoke to Mrs Ogawa as the men watched. Firstly Mrs Ogawa refused, but Kimiko continued. Eventually, Mrs Ogawa nodded and standing stiffly, she slowly unbuttoned her figure hugging blazer revealing a mostly transparent brassiere underneath.

"Nice," whistled Mark.

"A piece for a piece, Mark," Kimiko instructed Mark, bringing him back to the bargaining.

Mark hurriedly shed his shirt, dropping it on the upright of the sofa. Kimiko nodded at Mrs Ogawa who shimmied out of her sheath skirt. Her black g-string was framed by the suspenders that held up her nude stockings. Kimiko looked back to Mark who reacted by removing his shoes, socks and trousers. He was down to his Calvin Klein trunks. "Imaginative!" Kimiko laughed at that.

Mrs Ogawa approached Mark with the rope and gently pressed him down onto his knees. She rapidly tied his wrists and then after some loops around his torso, she immobilised his feet.

Todd looked to Kimiko, still resplendent in her floral dress. "Are we?" he enquired of her.

"Well there's an issue," Kimiko smiled. "If I do this, there's no backsliding from you. You will follow me." Todd nodded, so Kimiko raised the dress and slipped it over her head. She was naked underneath. And with the dress off, she was available to the room with the others still in varying forms of modesty. She looked to Todd who took the hint and quickly stripped everything off. Just as quickly Mrs Ogawa had him trussed up. She wrapped each of his thighs and low on his waist but left his crotch alone. He ended up restrained in a sort of a squat pose with his hands tied in front.

"You're not going to rob us?" Todd asked from his helpless, prone position.

Kimiko smiled as she approached Todd, bending down to gently take his hardening cock in her hand. "You should have thought of that before," she smiled. And winked. "But don't worry, that is not what is going to happen. Unless you want to play that out as a fantasy."

Todd looked to Mark who shrugged as best he could in his restraint.

Kimiko smiled, pleased that she now had Todd erect in her grip. "Okay, let's have some fun," she announced.

Mark felt bold. "Do you girls kiss?" he asked.

Kimiko had been about to position herself on Todd's cock, but she stopped and looked like she was seriously pondering the notion. "I hadn't thought of that," she announced and then asked Mrs Ogawa what she thought about it. "Maybe later," Mrs Ogawa suggested as she released Mark's cock from his Calvin Klein's, letting him rub it around her bare thigh. "First, let's wear these two out."

*

Jackson stepped into Belinda Clarke's office and stopped. "Where did you get that?" she exclaimed. The head of HR was marching on a running machine that was set up where her meeting table used to be.

Belinda was working up a sweat but was still in her comfort zone, able to easily converse with the still wide-eyed mailgirl. "Can't have you lot getting all the exercise," she smiled back to Jackson. "And I don't know if you have been reading the latest research about how unhealthy sitting is for you. So our meetings in here will now be stand-up meetings. Unfortunately, I can only fit one of these devices in the room. Otherwise we could all be on the move while we discuss things."

Jackson got the chance to emit a quick "I see" before Belinda continued.

"Since you advised me on what we are going to be talking about, I invited Wendy in to the meeting too. And Shane since he's going to be looking after things."

They waited for a short while until first Wendy and then Shane arrived. They arranged themselves standing near Belinda although the significance was not lost on Jackson that she was standing on one side of Belinda and the other two were on her other side.

Shane started. "Well, it's pretty straightforward to me. Rosemary comes in, takes her clothes off, does mailgirls things during the day. At some stage she interviews Lindsay again. And then she puts her clothes back on and she goes home."

Jackson smiled. "Well, if you put it like that, Shane," she started. But Belinda intervened.

"Who bears the liability?" Belinda asked Shane.

"What could go wrong?" Shane asked with his characteristic innocence.

"She's not experienced, Shane," Jackson started, "she could fall, sprain something, maybe worse if she goes down on the stairs..."

"Inappropriate touching," Wendy added. "Although I would hope that won't happen..."

"If one of our workers does it to one of our mailgirls, we have set procedures," Jackson completed, "there's the tribunal, the process to follow if things are more serious. And the mailgirls are supported by the company."

"But she's not a worker here," Wendy added. "I'll have no responsibility for her. And if she's 'doing mailgirl things' then she'll have to be on the app just like all the others."

Shane looked to Belinda. "This can all be sorted out, right?"

Belinda kept her fast walking pace going but did not miss a beat of her reply. "We have to have all of these issues sorted out, Shane. If something goes wrong. And in case it becomes a celebrity thing to be a mailgirl for a day."

"Now you're thinking," exclaimed Shane, no doubt imagining the A List knocking on his door hoping for their turn. "But she's not a celebrity, she's a journalist."

Belinda was ready for that. "Shane, Rosemary was number 27 on the Australia's Most Eligible Countdown."

Shane looked vexed. He spoke up eventually. "Number 27, are you sure? I thought she was in the forties." He rubbed his hands together. "This is great." He thought he better check who was ahead of her.

Jackson cleared her throat. "Sorry Shane, but the Fair Work Commission is very particular about who can take their clothes off in an office during working hours. We've been trying to sugarcoat it for you, but we really do need to resolve the red tape here before she can come in. So she can't just turn up here, take her clothes off and all is well."

Shane shrugged. "Rules are rules, I guess," he smiled in that cute way of his. "Can you sort our whatever needs to be done then so that all the liabilities are resolved? I'm sure we all really want this to happen. For the good of the company. And," he looked straight at Jackson, "it will make Mr Harada happy."

Belinda looked to Jackson. "Do you think there is a form of a contract that we can get for Rosemary?" There was a sense that this visit was going to happen, and that HR would have to make it work.

"I'll see what I can do," Jackson conceded.

"Then we're all good!" Shane insisted as he took a step to the door.

Wendy went to follow him but Belinda called her for a quick further chat 'on another matter.' So Jackson found herself leaving the room and walking to the stairs with Shane. He turned to her. "Jackson, have you been keeping away from me? I haven't seen you around."

Jackson smiled at the office number two. "Oh, I've been busy. I've been around, just been other places, I guess." She knew that Shane was looking her over.

And he sensed something. "Look, I know there's been changes. And you probably don't like all of them. But don't forget it's me. I'm on your side." Jackson looked at him wondering where he was heading. "I want what's best for you and for the office," Shane continued, "and we can make this continue to work. Look, my door's always open and you and I are probably overdue a good chat. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

Jackson nodded, giving Shane a promise that she would soon take up that invitation. They reached the vestibule and Jackson smiled at Shane. "Is it the stairs or the lifts for you?" she challenged.

He pressed the button for a lift. "All that walking Belinda was doing in the meeting tired me out," he laughed.

Jackson felt pleased that he would not be walking down the stairs with her.

*

Cara was thinking about lunch as she came out of her lecture. A fellow student, a woman dressed unpretentiously who she had seen but did not know walked up to claim her attention. "I liked the show," the stranger told her.

"Do I know you?" Cara asked her.

"No, but I was in the audience. I love the mailgirls things. Are you going to do another one?"

Cara smiled warmly at her. "Since you saw it, you know that performance is pretty much unrepeatable."

The woman nodded at that truth. "I'm Sue, by the way. Can understand that it can't be repeated. Quite a coup getting Pam Burridge to act for you."

"Uh-huh," nodded Cara. No point in admitting to the truth of that. "If we get enough new material..." She looked at this Sue and realised. "Okay, give me your contact and if we do another one, I'll give you a call and we'll see." Sue hastily complied. "No promises," Cara advised. She was just finished when her phone rang. She looked at the screen and noting it was Emily, she gave Sue a curt "Sorry" and strode off to find out what her sister was up to.

"I have news," Emily spurted. She sounded urgent.

"Where are you?" Cara asked.

"I'm at home. Get here as soon as you can," Emily advised.

The first thing Cara realised when she got home that both parents were out. Well, it was a weekday. She went to Emily's room where Emily was kneeling naked in front of her full length mirror. Emily looked up at her sister via the mirror. "You could join me," she suggested.

Cara stepped closer. "Or I could check that you are being a good mailgirl." She reached down to press her sister's shoulders back. "I think I would enjoy that better." Cara stood behind her sister looking to see if there was anything else that she needed to correct in her sister's stance. Since she could not find anything, she lifted her sister's face with a finger under her chin, for eye contact. "What is it?" she asked.

Emily smiled back, pleased with herself. "Pam Burridge," she revealed. "I thought out a plan. How to find her. And I did."

Cara looked extremely pleased. "Tell me, what did you do?"

Emily sparkled. "Well on a hunch, I staked out Dad's office."

Cara realised and gave her sister a wide smile. "You mean Pam Burridge works there?"

Emily nodded. "It was definitely her. Of course, she may have a clothed job there. But I don't think so. Walked into the office casual as can be. Fully clothed. But we mailgirls have a sense, we can sniff out other mailgirls."

Cara smirked. "Sure."

Emily smirked back at her sister. "Oh we can tell a like mind."

Cara conceded that. "Haha, if you say so."

Emily's widened. She had not finished yet. "There's more," she continued. "You'll never guess who else is a mailgirl?"

Cara responded straight away, still grinning. "Mum?"

Emily chortled. "Good guess but no. At least I didn't see her." Emily paused as if that may need further investigation. "Marjorie Jackson." she revealed.

Cara looked blank. "Huh?" Who was that?

Emily had her facts. "The union rep. The one from Carringbush. The near miss."

Cara was not yet on board with that. "Really? Perhaps she was just visiting? Maybe she had business there."

Emily shook her head at her sister's doubt. "Trust mailgirl mindhunter me. I can spot them. She was arriving about the same time as a number of other staff. Plus she looked like she belonged there, saying hello to others arriving, that sort of thing. And you've forgotten what Destinee said about her."

"What did Destinee say about her?" Cara asked.

"You have to pay more attention to other people, Cara," Emily chided. "And respect what they tell you. Destinee virtually told us that Marjorie was a mailgirl."

"That absolutely doesn't make any sense. So it's probably true," Cara decided.

Emily shone with her revelation. Her nipples stood out hard. "So what do we do with this knowledge?" she urged her sister.

Cara shook her head. "I have absolutely no idea. Let me think about it."

Emily relaxed from her waiting mailgirl pose. "I know one thing I am going to do though. I feel I deserve a reward." She stood up and adopted a stern look. "Take your clothes off. I want to have some fun."

Cara shrugged as she unbuttoned her blouse. "I guess you deserve it," she admitted as her sister crossed her arms to watch Cara undress.