Mailgirls on the Run Pt. 11

Chapter Seventeen

/* As mentioned before this is just the latest installment and I'm not going to try to recap the previous 80,000 words to try to make sense of it. Suffice it to say, SG&T's twenty-four mailgirls are in terrific shape and some senior exec thinks they are the obvious pool to recruit to represent the bank in the annual 10k Corporate Challege. The women in the cubicles did not show up so well the year before. */

Samantha, Mailgirl Twenty-two, was just finishing up her weekly Skype call to her parents -- "I love you, too, Mom." -- when she felt someone behind her. She turned and saw Fiona, Mailgirl Twenty-three, standing there looking anxious. She held up a finger asking Fiona to wait and closed the connection.

"It's been over a year now and I still can't convince them that Megan did not lure me into a life of sin."

"What?"

"My folks freaked out when Megan became a mailgirl and then blamed her for me deciding to become one as well. My dad still won't talk to her and from what my mom says most of her conversations with Megan are about me or trying to guilt her about me.

"But, how can I help you?"

"I need to talk to someone about last night."

"Uh, yeah. With your previous job. You know, it would be really helpful if they could recruit a psychiatrist as a mailgirl; or at least hire a psych major. The closest we have is Ten and she was just HR. A couple of the women have been near hysterical the first few days, weeks. Megan said Fourteen was so closed down when she arrived that they couldn't get through to her at all. She was more with it when I started, but really I didn't notice much of anyone else except Megan who freaked out upon seeing me. And yes, yesterday. The send-off is a tradition. Nurse Allen, Mailgirl One that was, says it's a way to show the woman who is leaving what she is leaving. It's the intimacy among mailgirls, the coercion, the us against an uncaring world, being aroused by the whole awful situation.

"I think of the whole lifestyle as performance art. A number of us that get off by making out in the showers, as much as by the unseen audience as the physical stimulation by the other woman or women. I can even get excited with the physical punishments, rising above the pain to focus on how I'm making the guys in suits drool and they can't touch me. I know that wasn't your experience, I was there when you crawled out of the crate, and I truly hope you can come to appreciate the ups of this life. Megan wasn't really good at that and she had real troubles adjusting once she was back in her cubicle. She's doing better now. Ms Barnes is going a little nuts with this running team thing, but Ten says Megan has some backing from the top bosses to make her chill. We'll see, being strung up in the courtyard with that sign hanging from my nipples was no fun at all."

Twenty-three looked down. "It just brought up memories of Mohr Brothers and I was terrified. And this will happen with every mailgirl that leaves?"

"Yes, it wouldn't be fair to leave anyone out. Ask Thirteen, I bet she'll say that she's going to be sorry to miss the send-offs that happen after she catches that plane for Miami."

It had been a blessedly mailgirl-free day when Colin Fforde walked into Megan's space shortly after lunch on Monday. "Ms Brooks, I'd like to take Maria to the train this afternoon."

"Are you sure it's not too early? It might be better if you weren't there to watch her transition from naked mailgirl to college student."

"I think it's better if I take her to the train than collect her on Friday and deliver her back to servitude."

"I see your point there. How about if I meet you at the loading dock at five and we let Maria choose. I can let her know that I have work to finish up. Not a lie since dealing with mailgirls has absorbed an frustrating amount of my time and energy. I had enough trouble just watching over my sister and now I feel like I'm standing between Ms Barnes and all twenty-four mailgirls."

Megan pulled up at the loading dock in her Civic a few minutes before five. Mr Fforde was standing there leaning against a silver Tesla. Apparently SG&T paid senior members of its legal staff better than mid-range financial analysts, even those that were ex-mailgirls. Maria walked out right at five, Megan could see Fforde stiffen at her appearance.

"Maria, I have your stuff here and Mr Fforde is waiting to take you to the train station. I have some work to finish up this evening."

"That's all right, just hand me my clothes. Colin, turn around while I get dressed.."

Mr Fforde obediently turned his back on the naked woman who quickly donned the casual clothing -- no bra or panties, of course -- that she had removed Friday morning. "Megan, you need to talk to Fifteen. She had her meeting with Ms Barnes this afternoon and she wants to talk to you. Colin, I'm ready. I don't want to miss my train."

Megan watched the pair drive off, then moved her Civic back to the front parking lot and went to track down Mailgirl Fifteen. She walked into the lobby and ordered a tea from the coffee shop before sitting down while she brought up the Mailgirls App on her smartphone. Fifteen was at rest in Marketing -- that is, she was kneeling on a yoga mat besides the Admin's desk there -- so Megan put in a request for a pickup at the Security Desk.

Fifteen came jogging down the hallway less than a minute later and Megan called her over to where she was sitting. She pressed the screen of the MMU noting that Fifteen had arrived with twelve seconds to spare. "Fourteen said that you needed to talk to me."

Fifteen had automatically gone to her knees in front of Megan and without looking up said, "Ms Barnes called me up to Human Capital today. I'm scheduled to attend a seminar in Cambridge next week. I'm to fly to Boston Sunday afternoon and then back on Friday after the seminar. I'll spend the following week training the new Thirteen. My last day as a mailgirl is that Friday."

"That's great. Do you know what they'll have you doing between your last day and the race?"

"No, but what I need to ask you is if you will pick up my trip documents from Travel and then help me collect my clothing from storage. I'll need work-appropriate attire for the seminar."

"That may be a problem."

"You can't help?"

"I will, but how much weight have you lost since you became a mailgirl? Most of my clothing still fit, but I was running fairly seriously leading up to my transfer to Maryland. Sarah, Mailgirl Five that was, found that most of her lawyering clothes hung on her. Pants were loose in the waist and tight on her thighs and calves. Maria, Fourteen, hasn't complained, but she's just been wearing casual clothing for class and she had dropped weight with her issues before becoming a mailgirl. They should provide you with a credit card along with your plane tickets and hotel reservations and you may need to exercise it at the mall before catching your flight. Oh, and you may want to buy panties -- there won't be any in your storage.

"We'll go to the storage unit after the workout on Saturday and if necessary, we'll leave here Saturday. I'll talk to Mistress V and Security, no need to alarm Ms Barnes. Meanwhile, you've got the rest of this week to get through and the treadmill on Wednesday and training session Saturday morning. Do your best to avoid accruing demerits this week; you don't want to be sitting on a freshly beaten bottom next week."

From the mailgirl standpoint it was a quiet week for Megan. Punishments were limited to Mistress V's paddle for mailgirls reaching twenty-five demerits. All the runners except Twenty-three were up to a solid hour on the treadmill -- overdistance for women training for a 10k. Charlotte stopped by to visit as she was closing up on Thursday and the pair had dinner together while Charlotte waited for the evening rush on the Beltway to subside.

Megan was waiting for Maria when she got off the train Friday morning. The older woman walked up to her and sighed, "Why am I doing this? I'm perfectly happy in Frederick: attending class, wearing clothes, eating real food, not worrying about Ms Barnes directing Mistress V to whip my ass or worse. I could just stay. SG&T isn't going to send a snatch squad to bring me back and I wouldn't be forfeiting some life changing payoff."

"Yes, it's all up to you. But, I've got to get to work and if you're coming, hop in."

"Well, what's up with Fifteen?"

"She has a seminar at MIT next week...."

Megan picked up an envelope from Travel that afternoon with information on Fifteen's seminar, hotel reservations, credit and debit cards for Amanda Peterson, and a cell phone with an app for the airline and her e-tickets. She also got the key codes for the storage facility in the basement and Fifteen's lockup and was told that her id was now authorized to enter. In between her mailgirl errands she still managed to get some actual banking work done.

Saturday morning Megan woke up to the sound of rain. She brought up the weather app on her phone and noted that the rain was forecast to continue into mid-afternoon. A cold front had moved into the area bringing the rain as well as dropping temperatures into the fifties. There were going to be some unhappy mailgirls this morning. She and Bob Starnes had discussed this possibility and decided that it was better to introduce their novice runners to inclement weather in a training session rather than possibly facing rain for the first time at the Corporate Challenge. Actually it was better conditions to run in than the heat and humidity of July and August. She sent texts to Brendan, Ken, and Charlotte saying they would be running an 8k that morning and got up to make her morning tea.

As she walked down the stairway from the lobby Megan could see that there was an animated discussion going on among several of the mailgirls. The mailgirls that were working the early Saturday shift were showering, shaving, brushing each others hair, putting on makeup. Mistress V was just watching Twelve and Fifteen talking and gesturing to Twenty-two. The mailgirls who had made the breakfast run had probably given the weather report. Twenty-two had grown up watching her sister head out the front door into rain and snow when she was running track in high school and was likely assuring her fellow team members that they would be going out to run as scheduled.

As Megan entered into the locker room every eye inside the glass walls turned to look at her. "I'm sure that you've all heard that it's raining -- well, it's coming down in buckets. And I'm equally sure that Twenty-two has regaled you with stories of her sister who would head out the front door to run in thunderstorms and blizzards. I did draw the line at tornadoes. You won't melt. It's better if you're introduced to running in the rain now rather than chance it the day of the race. We can hope for a beautiful fall day; the race will go off in anything short of a weather emergency.

"We're going to run an 8k time trial today, just one run and then back into the building. Unless the weather clears in the next half hour you'll leave your MMUs in their charging stations -- the IT department won't certify them as waterproof. Mistress V will meet you at the door with a high-viz harness to wear -- that's so SG&T will be on sound legal ground in any wrongful death suit should some driver claim diminished visibility when they run us down on the road through the park. After you finish you will exchange your vest for a towel at the door so that you won't track water through these august corridors and head straight for the Mailgirls Locker Room or the Women's locker room at the Fitness Center -- I recommend the latter as those showers have hot water and we'd like to avoid hypothermia.

"And no, I did not head out into those thunderstorms and blizzards in the nude. It was Iowa." Megan turned and headed back to the lobby to see who would be joining them for the run.

Megan found Charlotte and Sarah chatting in the lobby. "Where are the men?"

"Ken took Brendan and Sam off to the locker room to change."

"Anthony opened one eye this morning, heard the rain and decided that not even naked women were enough reason to get up early to run in the rain. He's a weather wimp, but if he had tossed in driving on the Beltway in the rain as a reason I'd be inclined to agree with him."

"Wait until it snows, then you'll see real chaos. Sarah, I'd like you to run with Felicia again; she's just going to do 5k. Then the two of you can collect towels from Mistress V when you re-enter the building and take a warm shower in the fitness center."

"That's off-limits to mailgirls."

"I don't want either of you taking a cold shower after running in the rain -- it's not that warm today. I've cleared it with Mistress V; I imagine Ms Barnes and I will have words on Monday. Oh, and Mistress V will be handing out florescent yellow harnesses for the mailgirls to run in; I want everybody visible on that road; the Security guys agree with me. Likely to be another point of discussion on Monday."

"You go, girl."

Mailgirl Twenty-two was at the back of the queue of naked women waiting to go out into the rain. Four was already wearing her harness which consisted of a bright yellow strap around her waist and another strap cutting diagonally from shoulder to waist strap -- nothing of interest was obscured, but she was sure that this would be reported to Ms Barnes. Megan was getting bolder although Twenty-two noted that she was risking their backsides, not hers.

Twenty-two would have been happy to have been proven wrong on her prediction that her sister was going to lead them out into the rain, but here they were. It might be worth it for a hot shower. Fourteen had reported that good food and hot showers were the highlight of her week of freedom. Her assessment of the joy of wearing clothing again was at best tepid. She said both she and Professor Chang wore very little when alone together in the apartment in the evening.

Oh, God. It was time.

By the time Twenty-two made her way to the showers, Three and Four were already toweling themselves dry -- much nicer and larger towels than provided in the Mailgirls locker room.

"A hot shower and a significant lack of lechers out to cop a feel. It was almost worth running in the rain."

"I did notice a dozen or so cars in the parking lot idling along the course. But the only guy I saw standing outside was Mr Starnes at the finish line. Did you hear your time? I barely paused when I passed him; I just continued on to the entrance and Mistress V with the towels. We did get to put on a show for the men in the coffee shop -- they looked confused when I headed down the hall instead of down the stairs to the locker room. And Twenty-two, we bow to you in your knowledge of all things Ms Brooks."

Twenty-two turned to face the other pair, "I did live with her for the first twelve years of my life and then when she was home from college. It's not easy following a perfect daughter."

Later that afternoon a pair of attractive blondes were chatting in the women's clothing department at Macy's. The stockier, bustier woman was incongruously clad in a shapeless pair of sweats. "Fuck it, Ms Brooks, I can't believe that nothing fit. I'm going to have to spend a mint buying new or having skirts taken in. Most of my dresses still work and some of my jackets, but did they have to take all of my panties and bras?"

"It's a tradition I'm told. Some firms do a brisk business in used mailgirl panties. There are collectors, apparently. I was told that SG&T donates what they don't display to local homeless shelters. And how much weight did you drop when you became a mail girl?"

"No more than ten pounds, well fifteen, but I looked good enough to be recruited as a mail girl."

"So you're fifteen pounds lighter and the weight got redistributed somewhat as you got more active which is why none of the narrow pants fit and your high boots don't zip all the way up. Once you stop the constant running about and escape the scientifically controlled diet you'll likely add those pounds back on -- just not before the race, please."

"Well, today I just need to buy enough to get me through the next week and then I'll ship everything to Chicago."

"Oh, and when you come back on Friday don't pack any of your new bras and panties in your suitcase. They'll just disappear."

Monday morning as expected Megan logged in to read a message to see Ms Barnes as soon as she arrived. Well, if she got it over now it shouldn't disrupt the rest of her day and she could settle down to real work. On her way to Miss Bradley's desk she paused to note Mailgirl Fifteen's panties up on the wall -- expensive and classy, just like the rest of the clothing she and Fifteen had examined Saturday afternoon. They were definitely a cut above most of the other twenty-two pair of panties displayed along the entrance to Human Capital. (Mohr Brothers had not sent along any panties with Mailgirl Twenty-three.)

The admin looked up at Megan and announced to the intercom, "Ms Brooks here to see you, Ms Barnes." She looked back at Megan and said, "You may go in now."

Ms Barnes started in even before Megan made it all the way through her office door. "Ms Brooks, you continue to overstep your bounds. Forcing the mailgirls out into the rain was well beyond what they are expected to endure, but then you had them clothed in vests, handed out towels when they finished their ordeal, and then directed them to use the showers in the Fitness Center. Where do you get off with these actions?"

"Ms Barnes, it very well may rain on the Corporate Challenge and Mr Starnes and I would rather introduce the women to running in inclement weather in practice rather than wait for the race. As for the high visibility vests I cleared that with Security -- it was an obvious safety precaution. The towels were to prevent them from dripping water all through the lobby which would have been a safety hazard. And the hot showers were to head off any possibility of hypothermia -- that I can get the Med Center to sign off on. These were all elementary safety precautions. I ran high school and college track in Iowa and there as in Maryland races are not canceled on account of rain, nor were practices."

"And what about Mailgirl Fifteen? According to the Security logs she left the building in your company. Where is she?"

"Mailgirl Fifteen, Amanda Peterson, should be attending a seminar at MIT at this moment. I can only confirm that I saw her go through security at BWI Sunday afternoon on her way to catch her flight to Boston. I picked up her documents from Travel Friday afternoon and drove her to the airport on Sunday. She is scheduled to fly back into BWI Friday morning."

"And where was she from the time the race ended until you drove her to the airport?"

"Travel supplied me with access to the Mailgirl Storage Area so Mailgirl Fifteen and I went there after the race to pack clothing for her trip to Boston. She is attending the seminar as Ms Amanda Peterson, a financial analyst at SG&T, not as a mailgirl. Ms Peterson's taste in clothing is more expensive and more finicky than mine; she was horrified to find that virtually nothing fit to her liking. And there was a lack of underwear as I'm sure you're aware. So we spent Saturday afternoon at the mall acquiring an acceptable wardrobe for this week. Only marginally acceptable according to Ms Peterson; Macy's is not where she is used to shopping. I didn't see any reason to shuttle her back and forth to SG&T, so she spent the night in my extra bedroom and then we both went for a run Sunday morning. I impressed upon her the necessity to keep up with her training until the race.

"Now, if you're satisfied Ms Barnes, I have work to do."