An adult stories – Running with Mailgirls Ch. 02 by storymac,storymac Running with Mailgirls 2
The race has ended and Jen is still naked. A security guard thinks this young runner is a mailgirl trying to escape so she walks Jen over to the area where the mailgirls are cooling down after the 10K race.
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“She’s not one of our mailgirls,” Ms. Barnes said to the security guard, “but please, wait a moment. The crowd seems hostile toward her.
“What’s your name and where are your clothes?” asked Bronwyn Barnes, manager of the mailgirl program at Sloane Guaranty & Trust (SG&T).
“My name is Jen and I wanted to run naked with the naked mailgirls and I lost my running clothes when this guard brought me over here,” Jen said, breathlessly.
“My name is Ms. Barnes and I can see it’s not safe for you out here. Come inside with me, and we’ll look for something for you to wear,” she said. Ms. Barnes nodded thank you to the security guard, put one hand on Jen’s shoulder, and escorted her into the building and down the stairs to the mailgirl locker room. Jen looked up at and around the impressive lobby. Still exhausted from the race, and rattled by the actions of the security guard, she saw the showers through the window. There were no mailgirls there at the moment, and it didn’t occur to her that people in the lobby could see into the showers.
Ms. Barnes led her into the locker room and said, “We want to keep you safe so it’s best that you blend in with the mailgirls. Kneel on that mat facing the mirror. Keep your back straight and put your hands behind your back. Now open your knees shoulder-width apart.
Jen complied willingly. She had no idea that her young, athletic body was now on display for anyone in the coffee shop to see.
Ms. Barnes continued, “That’s better. Now we can discuss the situation you’ve gotten yourself into.
“This is a bank and we can’t just give away clothing to anyone who walks in the front door, so I need to know a few things about you. Are you a customer of SG&T? What’s your address? Where do you work? How much money do they pay you? Have you run naked before? Did you enjoy it? Would you like to be paid to deliver messages naked around this bank?”
Jen answered the first six questions easily and when asked the seventh question, answered with a question of her own. “Do you mean… to be a mailgirl?”
“Yes, that’s a possibility,” Ms. Barnes said. “We can go up to my office in Human Capital while we wait for the angry people who were being nasty to you to leave. I will tell you about all the benefits of SG&T’s mailgirl program.”
“But I’m naked. People will see me.”
“Don’t worry. Everyone who works here is used to seeing mailgirls. Besides, the big crowd of people watching you run the race saw you naked and that didn’t bother you. Let’s get you cleaned up before we go upstairs. There’s a bar of soap in the shower. The water in the shower is cool. It’s better for your health that way.” Ms. Barnes spoke kindly to her, but there was an edge to her voice that told Jen she must do as she was told.
There were no doors or curtains for the shower, and Jen felt awkward, rubbing soap all over her naked body in front of a woman she’d just met. It was true that she needed a shower. Her skin was sweaty from the race, and her thighs still a bit gooey from all the juices that flowed from her pussy before and during the race.
She washed herself thoroughly under the watchful eyes of Ms. Barnes, and the unseen crowd of people in the coffee shop. Word had spread that there was a brand-new mailgirl in the shower. She dried herself with a small towel that felt scratchy compared to what she used at home. Ms. Barnes then hurried her out of the locker room and up on the elevator to Human Capital.
Jen moved her arms to cover herself when two men approached, but Ms. Barnes told her to keep her arms at her sides. In her office, she directed Jen to knees position on the mat, then sat in a guest chair in front of her so they could have a conversation. Ms. Barnes described the mailgirl program enthusiastically, then used her app to call a mailgirl. When Seventeen arrived, it was Jen’s first face-to-face meeting with a mailgirl – barefoot and naked except for the elastic sleeve on her upper arm holding her Mailgirl Management Unit (MMU). Mailgirl 17, a sultry brunette with a truly outstanding pair of breasts, demonstrated the basic poses, and Jen followed her lead. Ms. Barnes said she was doing okay, for a beginner, but needed more work on the poses. Seventeen was then sent down to maintenance to find some clothing for Jen and bring her socks and running shoes from the locker room.
“Mail delivery runs are timed with demerits given for being late. That should appeal to your competitive side as a runner. You would earn the same minimum wage you are currently earning, but overtime would effectively give you a substantial raise, plus the signing bonus and completion bonus. You would also have no food, clothing or accommodation expenses for two years.”
Ms. Barnes was very happy to have recruited a new mailgirl so easily. The B-cup breasts were smaller than ideal, but her body was toned and beautifully proportioned. She entered Jen’s details into a contract template and reached Mr. Smythe, the lawyer who handles mailgirl contracts, for a video call so he could be a witness.
Jen signed a preliminary contract that would send her for training at Dumpster Dawg Enterprises (DDE) starting in two weeks. Mailgirl 17 returned after finding some disposable coveralls in maintenance. Jen pulled them on. Ms. Barnes then directed Seventeen to escort Jen to the front door.
“I’m Jen. Thanks for getting me some clothing and my shoes. What’s your name?” she asked her escort, as they walked past the framed panties outside Human Capital. “Mailgirls are only referred to by number, and not by name. If someone calls this mailgirl by name, this mailgirl is required to politely remind them of that rule,” Mailgirl 17 said. “Please call this mailgirl Seventeen.”
“Is this going to be fun or have I just made the biggest mistake of my life?” Jen asked. “I’m so much smaller than you it’s like I’m your little sister. Do most mailgirls have large breasts like yours?”
“This mailgirl’s breasts are larger than most,” Seventeen responded, “but there is a range of bust sizes here. As for having fun, parts of it may be fun, but there’s a lot of degradation and humiliation. There’s also paddling when a mailgirl gets too many demerits. There’s no avoiding demerits no matter how hard one tries.”
They walked together down the stairs to the lobby and said goodbye. Seventeen explained that mailgirls do not use the elevator. Jen walked to her car in the almost-empty parking lot, found her keys where she had left them under the back bumper and drove home. She made a quick stop at a sandwich place to buy a salad and use the restroom to change out of the borrowed coveralls into the light jacket and yoga pants she had brought with her.
That evening, she had dinner with her parents and told them she had not only run a great race, but she’d accepted a new job at SG&T. They were happy about her good news, but they didn’t know the whole story. She didn’t actually mention the naked part of the race or the job. They were surprised that SG&T was flying her to the West Coast for training. After supper, she wrote a brief letter of resignation giving two weeks notice, printed and signed it, then put it into her purse.
She was very tired when she went to bed but she had to deal with the arousal that had been with her all day. She reached orgasm almost immediately when she started to touch herself in her familiar way, but it happened so fast that she wasn’t satisfied. Jen thought about how she had shaved her pussy the day before, the cool breeze she felt up the legs of her shorts, seeing the naked mailgirls, and sliding her shorts off at the start of the race. She began to tremble as she replayed the sight of the toned legs and butts of the mailgirls she followed, stripping off her top and running naked in front of all those people. This time the waves up and down her body were overwhelming.
Jen slept well but Monday morning at the office was a nightmare. Her ‘friend’ Nancy had gone online Sunday night to find photos from the race. She circulated several to people all over the building she and Jen worked in. The most embarrassing were the shots of Jen being walked naked through the hostile after-race crowd by a female security guard.
The first person she met as she walked toward her office from the parking lot was Tim, the courier who she saw almost every day at her reception desk. He asked her how she made bail so quickly? Jen looked puzzled, so Tim pulled out his phone and showed her a picture Nancy had sent him. There she was, bare breasted with her legs spread wide exposing her shaved pussy as she was being pushed along by the guard.
Jen was stunned. This was much worse than she imagined. How could Nancy do this to her? She expected some teasing but this was mean. She didn’t accomplish much that morning, as she was constantly interrupted by people wanting to talk to her or ask her to autograph a photo for them. When Nancy peeked into the office to see how Jen was doing, or perhaps to gloat, Jen told her to go away.
She set up a meeting with Denise, her supervisor, to deliver her resignation letter at 11:30am. Denise asked her to come in and close the door, then read the letter. “What were you thinking taking off all your clothes at a race?” she asked.
Jen told her the story from start to finish.
“I’m sorry to see you go,” Denise said. “You have done a lot of good work for us, but you have become a distraction and work around the office is suffering. We’ll pay you until the end of the day, but you can go home now instead of working through your two-weeks notice period.” Denise followed Jen to her desk, collected her identification-access card, and watched as Jen packed her few possessions into the sports bag where she kept some running clothes at work. She and Denise had a quick hug goodbye, and Jen left carrying her purse and the bag.
Jen shed a few tears as she sat in her car. Betrayed by a friend, embarrassed in front of the people she worked with, and then fired from her job was just too much. At least she had a new job to go to. She wiped her tears and drove home to call Ms. Barnes to ask whether she could start early.
Ms. Barnes said she was glad to hear from her and, yes, her training could start tomorrow. They agreed that she would drive to SG&T early in the morning.
“There’s no need to pack anything,” Ms. Barnes said. “Just bring your purse with your driver’s licence for identification at the airport. You won’t even need money for a coffee or a snack at the airport because you’ll wait for your flight in the first class lounge. Everything else you need for the four weeks of training will be provided when you get there. It’s expected that you will look professional when travelling for SG&T so please wear a nice dress.”
Jen arrived at SG&T right on time at 8:00am. She checked in at the security desk and only had to wait a couple of minutes before Mailgirl 17 arrived to escort her to Ms. Barnes’ office. It was a shock for Jen when she noticed mailgirls in the shower were easily visible from the coffee shop. She blushed when she realized that people could see everything when she showered after the race on Sunday. Mailgirl 17 explained that mailgirls had no privacy during their workdays so that everyone could enjoy their beauty.
When they arrived at her office, Ms. Barnes told Seventeen to wait on the mailgirl mat. After saying her dress looked nice she told Jen to take it off. She started to object, but when she saw the no-nonsense look from Ms. Barnes, she quickly slipped it off and stood there in an attractive lime-green bra and panty set. “Mailgirls don’t wear panties,” she said. “Take them off and pass them to me. Leave your bra and your shoes on the chair, then kneel in the ‘knees’ position you learned on Sunday.
“You won’t be needing your car and it makes no sense to have it parked for two years so leave your keys. The bank will sell it for a good price and credit the proceeds to your account. You’ll have plenty of money to buy a car once you complete your contract.”
Ms. Barnes explained the travel arrangements, told her to stand up and get dressed again, minus panties of course, gave her a boarding pass, and told Seventeen to escort her back to the lobby.
A luxurious town car was waiting for her in front of SG&T. Jen loved the way the bank was treating her. “Mailgirls must be very special,” she said to herself. She enjoyed the drive to the Baltimore-Washington International Airport, the airport lounge and the flight in a first class seat. Another town car was waiting to drive her to DDE. The driver was standing in the arrivals area with her name on a sign.
She had no idea that all these expenses would be paid for out of her mailgirl account. She also had no idea that her journey back to SG&T, after four weeks of training, would be most unpleasant, packed in a crate in the cargo compartment. Her life as a mailgirl would not even allow her time outside in the fresh air. Except for rare delivery runs through the courtyard and occasional fire drills, she would be indoors 24/7.
Jen walked into the DDE lobby, which was brightly decorated with screens promoting the many DDE gaming products. As she walked forward the receptionist glanced up at her face to compare to the photo on the receptionist’s screen. Without a word of greeting, the smartly dressed woman passed her a brown paper bag and said, “Strip and put your purse and everything you’re wearing, including jewelry, into this bag.”
Jen stood there with a stunned look on her face. “This, this must be a mistake,” she stammered. “The people over there would be able to see me.”
“You heard me. Strip! Hesitation is punished the same way as disobedience. I have your Mailgirl Management Unit sitting right in front of me. I can easily start adding demerits even before you slide it onto your arm.”
Jen turned her back on the other people in the lobby and began to undress. This was the last time she would wear clothing for the next two years.