So, What is a Mailgirl?
Put simply, a mailgirl is a courier that delivers documents from one employee of a company to another. A delivery request appears on their Mailgirl Monitoring Unit (MMU), and she rushes to the pickup. Upon receipt of the memo, she will run to deliver it. The person sending the memo can choose three speeds: normal, rush or premium rush. A timer on her MMU lets the mailgirl know how long she has to deliver the memo. Lateness will result in a demerit. Demerits can also be earned for uniform issues (running numbers, streaking makeup, odor), covering up in any way or failing to speak or pose appropriately.
The mailgirl uniform consists of the mailgirl’s designated mail room number written on her thighs, heart and lower back for easy identification from any angle. She wears her MMU on her left bicep and collar around her neck. The collar is thick black leather with D-rings.
A mailgirl is subordinate to every other member of staff and she is to speak accordingly. “Ma’am” and “Sir,” is the only way a mailgirl may address a member of staff other than another mailgirl. They are only to speak when spoken to and may never be disrespectful or discourteous. If a mailgirl is to speak of herself, she will only refer to herself as ‘this worthless mailgirl.’ If a member of staff refers to her by her birth name, she will remind them that her number is her name. A mailgirl may only be referred to by her mail room number when she is on duty, even by other mailgirls. While she may be Stephanie Davis outside of work, in the office, her name is Seven.
Between deliveries, mailgirls may rest only on one of the designated mailgirl mats and drink water out of the bowls provided. She will rest in her ‘resting position:’ kneeling with knees shoulder width apart, chest out and hands upturned on thighs. If she is found out of position, she will receive demerits.
If a mailgirl has to use the restroom during her shift, she must be escorted by a female member of staff. If she has to wait while on a delivery, she will assume a ‘waiting position:’ standing with feet shoulder width apart, chest out and one hand gripping the other wrist behind her back but never obstructing the view of her body.
Between deliveries, any member of staff may inspect a mailgirl’s uniform to ensure that it is in compliance with company mandates. When requested, she will assume the ‘inspection position:’ legs spread, fingers laced behind head and standing on toes. She will maintain this position until the inspection is complete. If she fails inspection, she will receive demerits and immediately return to the Mail Room for a shower and reapplication of the uniform. Any time spend doing this will be counted as off-duty and added to the end of her shift (unless it is Friday, the time will be added to the next shift).
A mailgirl’s direct supervisor is Mistress. Mistress will ensure that her team are operating at the highest possible standards. On Friday’s, after the shift is completed, mailgirls will be punished for their demerits in order of fewest to most. A mailgirl’s shift is not complete until every girl has paid for disappointing the company. Salaried staff may watch the punishments from outside the Mail Room.
The Mail Room is a locker room and the base of operations for the mailgirls program. Installed with one-war glass, the Mail Room is always visible from the outside, though the girls only see a reflection. The viewing area has a small cafe and visitors from outside the company are required to pay a cover fee to enter.
Upon receipt of a delivery, a member of staff may spend chits to keep a mailgirl present for a duration of time determined by chits spent. Chits are earned through employee productivity. During the time, a mailgirl may be asked to complete poses- for a complete list of poses, see the Mailgirl Employee Handbook.
A member of staff may NEVER touch or harass a mailgirl. Any misconduct will be investigated and any employee caught doing so will be immediately terminated and may have criminal charges brought against them. Consensual fraternization between a mailgirl and regular staff is also not allowed.
Mailgirl contracts are lucrative, but last for increments of two years. If a mailgirl terminates her contract, she will owe a prohibitive amount of money to Mailgirl Enterprises.
Most mailgirls are additionally incentivized with the offer of a (clothed) position at the company upon completion of their contract.
Scene from Confessions Of A Mailgirl by C. Hawk
A spotlight shined on me as I entered the large room and all around me I heard the sound of whistling, howls, and applause. Temporarily blinded by the combination of the spotlight and the darkened auditorium I raised my arm up to shield my eyes as I tried to make out what was going on. Down below me on the stage I saw three large video monitors. On one of them I saw my own image in all its naked glory, on another was a timer ticking down the last few seconds to zero, and on the third monitor was Barbara Anderson standing on the stage.
"There you have it," I heard Barbara say over the public address system, "our mailgirl made it here from the tower in under five minutes and she had no advance notice this was going to happen. That's the type of speed and efficiency we can provide and will be demanding from our mailgirls."
I was unsure about what to do next as I continued to try to make out my surroundings. Was this some kind of media event or press conference? "Come on down to the stage, mailgirl," I heard Barbara say. Her reference to me as "mailgirl" rather than by name struck me as odd. As I walked down the stairs leading to the stage the spotlight followed me as did the camera displaying me on the video screen. I passed rows of people on each side, all of them turning to stare at me, and all wearing DDE identification badges. This obviously had to be some sort of employee meeting although it was being staged in a way usually reserved for media events.
My eyes had finally adjusted by the time I stepped up on the stage. Barbara was standing alone on it wearing one of those wireless microphone headsets that would allow her to speak as she moved about the stage and she motioned for me to come to her. "Turn and face the audience and assume your standing position," she ordered and her voice could be heard clearly throughout the auditorium. I turned and spread my legs to shoulder width, then placed my arms behind my back. As I did this I heard whistles and catcalls coming from the audience.
I quickly surveyed the crowd and recognized a few faces from my previous life in the company's management program. I realized now that I was standing nude on stage in front of several hundred DDE managers and supervisors from various departments outside of the tower. One of them I recognized as my former boss, Sanjeev Singh. Beside him sat Stephanie, the girl who had once been my best friend. Steph stared up at me with a smirk on her face and I quickly lowered my eyes to the floor in embarrassment.
"This is the standing position that all mailgirls are required to maintain while awaiting instructions," Barbara said to the crowd. "It's the only standing position they are allowed while not in motion. If there is going to be an extended wait for some reason you may also order a mailgirl into a kneeling position." Barbara nodded at me indicating she wanted me to demonstrate it. I got down on my knees and spread them to shoulder width as I placed my hands on my thighs and arched my back, thrusting my breasts toward the audience. I thought the eyes of a man sitting directly in front of the stage might pop right out of his head as he stared between my legs.
"This is also the position that the mailgirl will assume while resting on their mat when they have no current assignment," Barbara continued. "Under no circumstances is a mailgirl allowed to sit on any piece of office furniture for obvious hygienic reasons. If a mailgirl has a long wait during a pickup she may only kneel if ordered by you and there should seldom be times when the wait is so extensive that you will need to order her to kneel. We'd rather you not tie up a mailgirl. That's my job."
Laughter spread through the auditorium at the double meaning as Barbara looked down at me with a sly grin. I'm sure my face was crimson red with shame as this spectacle had to be the most humiliating thing I'd experienced yet. At the same time I was also becoming extremely aroused which was probably becoming noticeable to everyone in the front row, if not the entire auditorium since my nude body was still being featured prominently on a large video screen. This added further to my humiliation which turned me on even more. It was a vicious cycle that I was powerless to control and I just prayed I wouldn't have an orgasm right there on stage.
"Return to your standing position, mailgirl," Barbara ordered and I quickly complied. "We learned some valuable lessons during the pilot program in the tower," she said to the audience, her voice ringing out clearly through the speakers placed throughout the auditorium, "but now that we're expanding we will be making a few changes. Until now the primary method of communicating pickups and deliveries to the mailgirl has been via a smart watch. This worked well in the tower but now that a much larger area will be covered by the mailgirls we feel the watch has some limitations." Barbara walked behind me now and silently took hold of each of my wrists as they were clasped behind my back and pulled my arms to my sides. Then she took my left wrist and removed the watch.
"I've recently returned from Tokyo where I saw demonstrations of Hiromoto's 2.0 version of their Mailgirls Monitoring Unit which uses smart phone technology rather than a watch," Barbara said as she walked toward the rear of the stage. "It's more powerful and has more features than the watch and I believe it is better suited to our purposes here at DDE." I guess that explained where Barbara had been recently. She must have been in Tokyo finalizing the preparations for the expansion of the program.
Moments later Barbara returned to where I was standing holding a smart phone attached to a black band. The band was made of some kind of stretchable synthetic material and she slid it over my wrist and up my arm. She then let go of the band and it tightened around my upper arm holding the phone firmly in place. It was a snug fit but wasn't so tight that it would cut off circulation.
I can't say I was really crazy about this change. Personally I liked the minimally intrusive simplicity of the watch over having a phone bursting from my arm like a large growth. Ultimately it didn't matter, though, since their purpose remained the same: they were both electronic leashes designed to move the mailgirl around at the whim of whoever controlled the leash. And since anyone with a Mailgirls app could take control of the leash this would leave me at the beck and call of hundreds of different masters.
Barbara made several small adjustments to the position of the phone on my arm until she was satisfied with it, then stepped back and turned to the audience. "This new Mailgirls Monitoring Unit, or MMU as we call it, has several features that the watch didn't have. You've each been given a booklet called the Mailgirls Program Introduction and Service Guide so I won't go over all of them but I would like to talk about one new feature that will allow you to use delivery credits to order faster delivery speeds."
Barbara began pacing across the stage now as she spoke. "Each department manager will be given a limited number of delivery credits each week for his or her department to use to order faster delivery times. Standard deliveries will never cost any credits but you may also order Express, Premium, and Premium Rush deliveries using varying amounts of credit. Each of these will reduce the pickup and delivery times allowed for the mailgirl to meet her deadline. The Premium Rush delivery is the fastest but is also the most expensive in terms of credit usage, so use it on only for your most time sensitive deliveries otherwise you'll burn through your weekly credit allotment in a hurry. We don't want to run our mailgirls ragged on rush orders that aren't really time critical."
I definitely didn't like sound of this new feature at all. I felt like I'd been able to develop a strong pace that would get me through a long day without burning out and didn't like the idea of having to do rush orders that would quickly wear me down. The whole thing seemed like it could be ripe for abuse too, despite the credit system that would supposedly limit its use.
"Another thing that will have to change with the expansion of the program is how mailgirls are identified," Barbara said as she continued to move around the stage. "Up until now, with only three mailgirls employed, we simply referred to them by their names. Obviously we'll need to hire many more mailgirls now so this will no longer be the most efficient method of identifying them since some of the girls will undoubtedly have the same or similar names."
I had a sinking feeling I knew where this was going. We're about to become numbers, I thought to myself. The more I'd gotten to know Barbara the more I'd known this was probably inevitable. It was just another step in her plan to enslave me by stripping me of everything, including my identity. Barbara didn't waste any time confirming my fears. "So what we're going to do is assign each mailgirl a number in order to help identify them." Barbara paused momentarily to glance in my direction for a reaction from me but I forced myself to stare passively at the floor.
"And why is it important for us to be able to identify a mailgirl?" Barbara continued. "Because our mailgirls are expected to observe a very strict code of conduct and it's important that anyone observing a violation of this code be able to properly identify the mailgirl when reporting it. Those on each end of the pickup and delivery will know her identity because it will show up on their Mailgirls app with the delivery details, but others witnessing a code violation may not be able to identify her. She won't be wearing a company ID badge, after all." This brought a sprinkling of laughter through the auditorium.
Barbara walked over to me now until she was so close I could feel her breath on my cheek. "So how are you going to know what a mailgirl's number is?" she asked the audience. "Let me demonstrate." Just when I thought my humiliation couldn't get any worse, Barbara took a black marker pen out of her jacket pocket, removed the cap, and began inking what I assumed was a number just below the clavicle area above my right breast. I trembled slightly at the feel of the marker on my bare skin as I struggled to keep my emotions in check.
When she finished with that she inked numbers onto each of my hips, then spun me around so my backside faced the audience and began writing a final number on the small of my back. From this position I was able to see myself on one of the video monitors at the back of the stage and for the first time could identify the number she was giving me. Above my right breast she had written the number 9 .
Nine? What the fuck? Where did she come up with nine? I remembered that stupid little joke where Kelly and I pretended to be competing for the number one, but even with Anna around it seemed like it shouldn't have been any lower than three. I knew it was silly to care about what number I was assigned, but for some reason this bugged me.
Then the reason for it occurred to me. A higher number like one, two, or even three suggested greater importance. Barbara had made it clear to me that I was always going to be a lowly mailgirl and would never be allowed to rise above that station. Even in assigning me a number she wouldn't allow even a hint that I held a place of any importance in the mailgirl hierarchy. I was just a generic number nine.
After she had finished Barbara spun me back around to face the crowd. "I know using a black marker is a bit old school, but this is the way Hiromoto Industries did it for years so why reinvent the wheel?" Barbara replaced the cap on the pen and put it back in her jacket pocket. "Resume your standing position," she ordered. She then began pacing the stage as she spoke.
"As you can see, this mailgirl has been assigned the number nine and this will be how she will be referred to at all times while on duty," Barbara said. "I know that some of you know Nine's name from her earlier time working for DDE in another capacity, but as a mailgirl you will always refer to her by her assigned number. This will be the case with all of the other mailgirls as well."
As I stood on the stage in utter humiliation I looked up briefly and caught Stephanie's eye. The look of contempt on her face was unmistakeable and I quickly lowered my eyes again. I knew she believed that what I was taking part in was setting women's rights back a century and I can't say that I really blamed her for thinking that. Barbara was treating me as little more than a slave as she introduced her Mailgirls program, and in reality that's exactly what I was. There were few aspects of my life now that she didn't control and she'd promised me that her grip would only tighten over time.
''Now I'm sure there are many questions involving the expansion of the Mailgirls program to the rest of the DDE campus," Barbara continued, "but I believe the guide you've received will answer most of them. All DDE employees will be receiving a digital version of this guide in their email and a video of this presentation today will also be made available via company intranet to any employee who wants to view it. Obviously Nine's nudity in the video won't be considered Not Safe For Work so anyone who wants to view it on company computers will be free to do so."
Oh my god, I thought, everyone in the company is going to see this! This should have filled me with despair but instead it sent a fresh wave of arousal pulsing through me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I struggled to control it. I desperately wished i could go somewhere private to bring myself off before I came in front of a live audience. Meanwhile Barbara continued her spiel without missing a beat.
"There is one question I'd like to address, however, that I'm sure is on many people's mind. The elephant in the room, so to speak. Why the mandatory nudity for mailgirls?"
"Because it's awesome!" a man shouted out from the back to much laughter around the auditorium.
"Yes, that's true," Barbara replied with a laugh. "For some people that's reason enough. From the company's perspective, though, there are both practical and esoteric reasons for it. Let's start with the practical, beginning with uniform costs. There are none." This brought more laughter from the crowd. "There are no purchase costs, no cleaning costs, no replacement costs. Any uniform we provided would quickly become sweaty, smelly, and cause chafing throughout the course of the shift. This uniform, however, can be quickly cleaned whenever required," Barbara said as she pointed to my nude body.
I continued to teeter on the brink of an orgasm as Barbara began walking back toward me. "In order to insure uniform cleanliness we are adding an inspection routine which may be ordered whenever a mailgirl is not currently enroute to a pickup or delivery. It involves a new stance known as the inspection position." She was standing directly in front of me now and as I looked up into her face I realized she knew exactly what was happening to me. "I believe I'll have Nine demonstrate it for you now," she said with a smile.
I took another deep breath as I once again fought to bring myself back from the edge. "Nine, place your hands behind your head, elbows out," Barbara ordered. "Now spread your legs wider and lift up on your toes. Arch your back more." After I'd complied with all of these demands she stepped back away from me providing the audience an unobstructed view of my body.
This position was even more humiliating than the other two and left me feeling completely exposed and vulnerable. I began trembling as I tried to fight back my rising state of arousal. Meanwhile Barbara slowly walked to the back of the stage under the pretext of needing a sip of water leaving me alone, front and center, with every eye in the room on me. What she was really doing was engaging in a type of silent torture hoping to force me to climax right there on stage. I didn't dare look up from the floor at all of those staring eyes and I somehow managed to hold on. Barbara finally returned and began to speak again.
"So what will you be looking for on this inspection?" she asked the audience. "All body hair must be shaved prior to the beginning of each shift so there should be no stubble. Her makeup must not be too heavy or slutty looking and there should no streaks or runs. She must not be adorned by any jewelry. Light perspiration is okay but heavy sweat is not. Her hair should be clean and is not allowed to cover her breasts. She should be lightly perfumed and scented without either unpleasant body odor or smelling like she took a bath in cheap perfume."
Barbara began slowly circling me now inspecting my body, close enough that I could smell the scent of her perfume. She'd almost completed the circuit when, with her back to the audience, she leaned in even closer as if to smell my hair. Instead she began blowing lightly in my right ear.
This was all it took to finally send me over the edge. A moan escaped my lips as my body shook with a powerful orgasm. Somehow I managed to remain in the inspection position, but any hope that the audience hadn't realized what had just happened quickly disappeared as gasps and laughter spread throughout the room. I wanted the stage to open up and swallow me but I remained there on display, humiliated beyond belief.
Barbara backed away from me and turned to the audience. "I'm guessing that probably answers one of your questions about whether mailgirls get, um, 'excited' about public nudity," Barbara said as laughter rang through the auditorium. "Anyway that was an example of an inspection, although I doubt most mailgirls will react as enthusiastically to it as Nine did." More laughter swept through the room and I just wanted to crawl away somewhere and die.
"Return to your standing position, Nine," Barbara ordered. "This mailgirl passed the inspection, by the way, although she probably could use a cold shower right now." More laughter. "But what if a mailgirl doesn't pass inspection?" she asked the crowd, her voice returning to a more businesslike tone. "We've added a function to the Mailgirls app that will allow you to send her to the Mailgirls locker room to clean up and fix any problems in her uniform's appearance. The app will calculate a deadline for her to do this and return to you for a second inspection. If she also fails that inspection you can assign her demerits. Our demerit program is outlined in your guide."
As I listened to Barbara I felt like I'd just been put through an emotional spin cycle. I knew that news of what had happened here would spread like wildfire throughout the company. And then there would be the video! How could I ever face anyone here again?
"There are several other practical reasons for the nudity," Barbara continued. "Ease of identity is one. No one will ever mistake a mailgirl for a regular employee and this helps us observe and monitor their performance. Another is security. Mailgirls are unhackable, every step of their movement is monitored, and they have a very limited capacity for hiding sensitive materials." This last statement brought another laugh.
"But let's cut to the chase, shall we?" Barbara said to the crowd as she paced the stage. "Those aren't the real reasons for using naked delivery girls. Nudity is helpful, but I'm sure we could find acceptable alternatives that would allow us to clothe our mailgirls if we wanted to." Barbara stopped pacing and faced the audience. "If you want the real reason we are employing nude mailgirls I can sum it up in one word. Sex." Nervous laughter and murmuring riffled through auditorium.
"That's right. Sex. The sex drive is one of the most powerful motivational forces in human nature, probably the most powerful one after the basic needs of food, water, and shelter have been met. Sex permeates our lives and our thoughts. You saw a demonstration of that just a couple of minutes ago, although that wasn't actually a planned part of our program here today." More laughter.
"Dumpster Dawg Enterprises was built on games and movies which prominently feature sex and nudity. We believe there is a tremendous amount of vitality and vigor to be derived from tapping into this sexual energy, something that modern corporate culture has attempted to leech from the workplace by creating sterile work environments that pretend its employees aren't sexual beings."
Barbara walked over and stood next to me now. "Ever since Nine came up on stage almost every eye has been on her. I'm feeling quite ignored up here." This brought yet another laugh from the audience. "That's okay because she's a beautiful nude woman at the peak of her sexual desirability. It's only natural that your gaze is drawn to her. That's why mailgirls are allowed no modesty while on duty. We want them to be seen, to be looked at. We want to use their beautiful nude bodies to help us tap into this sexual energy."
Barbara began striding the stage again, working the crowd like a revivalist preacher. "The nude female form has inspired artists for many centuries and we believe that it will inspire creativity, passion, and inspiration here at DDE. We also believe it will create a dynamic, vibrant work environment that will propel us to even greater heights. Every company that has adopted Hiromoto's Mailgirls program has seen measurable gains in productivity. Think about that. That seems counterintuitive, doesn't it? Nude women should be a distraction that hampers productivity rather than helps it, right? While it obviously can be a distraction to a point, that has proven to be more than compensated for by the increased motivation, vitality, and inspiration that the presence of beautiful nude women can provide."
Barbara could sell ice to eskimos, I thought to myself as I listened to her speak. I had the sense that the crowd was totally buying into what she was saying.
"Of course there are limits as to how far this sexual energy can be taken," Barbara continued. "As you know there are politicians and various busybodies who are watching our every move hoping to take us down and put a halt to the scourge of naked women in the workplace. In employing nude couriers we know we are perching ourselves on a thin ledge concerning sexual harassment laws so it's vital that we not cross any legal lines. Tapping into that sexual energy while not violating any legal statutes is the task and the challenge before us. The mailgirls' mandatory nudity clearly separates them from any other DDE employee group and it's important to recognize and maintain that separation at all times. There can be no half measures regarding this."
Barbara was dialed in now and had the rapt attention of her audience. She walked to the front of the stage and scanned the crowd. "Listen to what I have to say now as if your jobs depended on it, because they do. Because of their nudity and the potential for sexual harassment issues, mailgirls will be considered a different class than any other employee group at DDE and must be treated that way. They are not your friends, or colleagues, or co-workers and there will be no fraternization with them while on duty. This is for your protection as well as theirs."
Barbara paused briefly and you could hear a pin drop in the auditorium. "Mailgirls will be defined as a servant class here at DDE and as such their role will be strictly defined and monitored, as will your interactions with them. For the purpose of efficiency, every employee in the company, from the CEO down to a new hire janitor, will be considered their superior. Mailgirls will be expected to perform their duties with an attitude of humble servitude and must address everyone as 'sir' or 'ma'am.' Any deviation from the strict rules and guidelines laid down for them may result in demerits and subsequent punishment. I know that probably sounds harsh to some, but this has been put in place because of the unique nature of their job and to protect the company."
"Insolence and insubordination will absolutely not be tolerated by a mailgirl and will be severely punished," Barbara said to the crowd, although I'm sure it was also meant for my ears. As if on cue she turned and looked directly at me. "Mailgirl Nine here, for instance, walked into my office one day fully dressed and attempted to challenge my authority. As a consequence of that blatant insubordination she has been permanently banned from ever wearing clothes again within a DDE building. Since Mailgirls is the only department within the complex allowing nudity, Nine will never be promoted or transferred and will remain a mailgirl for as long as she is employed by DDE." A murmur went through the crowd. Already humiliated by my orgasm, my shame increased even further as I stood in front of people who had once been my colleagues and listened to Barbara tell them how I was being punished for being a bad little mailgirl. Would this damn meeting never end?
After what seemed like forever, Barbara finally shifted her gaze from me back to the audience. "Nudity is the mailgirls uniform and another of its purposes is to provide a constant reminder to them, and you, of their place. Whenever you or they attempt to breach the wall that divides you it places the company at risk and will not be tolerated. I know in this day and age when everyone is supposed to be both a special snowflake and the equal to everyone else, it sounds shocking for a company to relegate a group of employees to being a servant class. DDE, however, was not built on political correctness."
Barbara paused again and only the sound of a nervous cough broke the silence. She did a slow circuit around me and it was all I could do to keep from squirming as her eyes bore into me. "So what exactly are the rules for interacting with a mailgirl like Nine here?" she asked finally. "You'll find more details in the guide but for the purposes of this meeting I'll keep them simple. You can look but don't touch, don't use any suggestive language or sexual slurs in speaking to them, address them by their assigned number rather than by name, don't fraternize with them or treat them as colleagues or equals, and don't allow them to do this with you. There will be zero tolerance for violating these policies."
Barbara turned away from me and faced the audience again. 'Two tower employees have already been fired for violating these policies," she said. "One was a seventh floor executive who was pushing the envelope in using suggestive and inappropriate language and the other was a third floor employee whose desk was next to a Mailgirls mat and was becoming overly familiar and chatty with the girls."
Thomas! The bitch had fired the sweet, gentle, happy-go-lucky guy from Montserrat because he was becoming too friendly with me? I knew immediately this was another shot across my bow intended to keep me obedient and isolated. I looked up angrily at Barbara as she turned and locked eyes with me. I tried to hold her gaze but only lasted a few seconds before lowering my my eyes again again to the floor. I was in a battle I knew I couldn't win.
Barbara turned back to the audience. "I want to reiterate, mailgirls are here to be your servants; not your friends, not your colleagues, not your equals. They are definitely not here to be your sexual playtoys either. Any inappropriate touching, groping, grabbing, fondling, or crude and suggestive language are violations of the state's sexual harassment laws and will lead to punishment up to and including termination. Fair warning."
The mood of the crowd was subdued now as Barbara took another brief pause for a sip of water. After returning to the front of the stage she broke into a smile as she addressed them again. "So now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's get back to the fun stuff. I've been authorized to increase our staff of mailgirls from three to twenty-four so that means there will soon be a lot of beautiful naked women running around. I want to fill as many of these positions as possible in house with current DDE employees so I'm going to need your help in finding and recruiting potential candidates. As an incentive we will be offering a $10,000 bonus for every girl you send us that we hire and signs a binding two year contract." This definitely helped lighten the mood of the crowd, but as she spoke my mind drifted off in thoughts of my present and future.
I'm a naked slave girl with little control over my life. My name has been replaced by a number, I've humiliated myself today in front of the entire company, I can be bound and whipped at Barbara's whim, and I have no idea when or if I'll be allowed to wear clothes again. I'm not even sure anymore if I have the power or will to leave after my contract is up so this could go on indefinitely.
All of this should have left me in a state of depression and despair, but instead I felt a sense of excitement and adventure about my future. Am I crazy, I wondered? Did some of my wiring come loose somewhere along the line during my upbringing? Are there other submissive women who would trade places with me in a heartbeat? I suspected there were.
Barbara continued on for another thirty minutes or so discussing the Mailgirls program and her plans for the future, revealing even more humiliating aspects of it. Not only had the rumors about the company pulling the plug on the program been wrong but Barbara seemed even more emboldened now to push the limits of it as far as possible. Through it all I stood there naked on the stage being gawked at by the crowd and not once was I ever asked to utter a single word.