Mailgirls in Space Pt. 01

I'm new to this, it's my first smut story, and my first time playing with this concept, obviously. I tried keeping as true to the genre as possible, while making it my own, but I know there's some staples currently missing... I'm planning on rolling those out as HR decrees as we go along, almost like Apollo is starting out wading in, and we'll eventually get to the deep end.

I also have to thank lizstanton8181 and her stories, as well as the original "Mailroom Girls" by Cambridge Caine. I borrowed heavily from Liz's concepts, USF's Mailgirls being my inspiration to even do this. And of course this genre isn't a thing without Cambridge Cain's original concept. I know there's others in the genre, but I haven't gotten to read most of their's yet.

The space stuff was just something I came up with on my own.

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Mailgirls In Space. Part 1.

Year: 2100 AD.

Humanity and global warming have finally ravaged the Earth. The human population has been reduced from 8.2 billion through war and natural disasters to just under 2 million. A large portion of the surface is unhabitable. Although settlements remain in portions of Europe and Asia, South America has now been made into one giant oil drill site, Australia is fully submerged under water, and Russia and China nuked North America into oblivion. A large part of humanity now resides in space, among the stars, in a series of large technologically advanced space stations.

The largest of these is Andromeda Station. After that are Vector Station, Orion Station, and Aurora Station. Other satellite and support stations are joined by these, but these are the primary ones and where most live and work. Although there were many scientists and military personnel, most people still worked jobs--regular, boring old jobs.

Landon Davidson had been one of them. Perhaps he still was, or at least until last month. He was an HR recruiter for one of the medical companies that now run the hospital at each station. He was still in HR, but his recruiting had become more interesting. He was now head of a team working for the company that owned two of the four stations, Apollo Industries. In their Human Capital division. He was recruiting mailgirls instead of nurses and medical technicians.

Most of humanity had still clung to the dying rock they were orbiting until about six years ago, when the space station program was launched. The Great War of Russia and China vs the US, along with some hefty natural disasters for good measure, had wiped almost everyone out. The remaining Americans, Europeans, Asians (who weren't China aligned), basically anyone not Russian or Chinese, all went to the space stations. Russia and China got to keep the hunk of rock that was now Earth.

After three years, everyone was homesick, they'd lost family and friends, and morale was dropping. Apollo Industries wanted to change that and devised several hare-brained schemes.

Back on the surface, one of the things that had started to pop up, particularly in Asian countries, was this concept of "mailgirls." It started simple enough, attractive young women were recruited to work in mailrooms in offices. The catch was they had to be completely naked. Hot girls delivering mail naked quickly morphed into varying levels of depravity, with the girls in question ceasing to be normal employees and becoming essentially property of the companies holding their contracts. They were often treated more like naked human pets at best, full-on sex slaves at worst. Most programs were somewhere in between. This had started to spread worldwide and was picking up steam and doing well, even reaching the former United States of America and grabbing a foothold there. Until the Great War and apocalypse, at least.

Now Apollo Industries execs thought bringing a mailgirls program back would help cheer everyone up. To start with, they'd roll it as a pilot. If it worked, it would be tweaked and eventually rolled out in full. If it didn't, they'd find something else. That's why Landon and his head recruiter, Jillian Mitchell, were staring at a list of women to recruit. If Landon had his way, he'd find 30 lingerie model-esque women and call it a day. But two things: First, they had to do this quickly. The deadline was tight, and his team would be replaced soon if they didn't start getting girls involved within the next week or two. Secondly, Apollo brass had made it clear they wanted more diversity than that. So, the list was made, and now recruiting would start.

Landon looked up from his tablet at Jillian. She was young, tall, slim, and blonde. Mailgirl material, but also entirely too important to him as a recruiter, at least for now. He'd have gotten nowhere without her, and he knew it.

"So, I figure we'd start with six girls first. Then every month or so bring in six more until we have all thirty." Davidson handed Jillian his tablet. "Most are Apollo employees. Some outside recruits, we shouldn't have a problem with luring them on board as well. Here's the first six names I want."

They'd start with six girls and add more as they went. Six now, six next week, and then another six when the pilot was picked up, adding more at intervals until they had 30. Landon and Jillian figured they'd need about 30 to cover everything reasonably. Six was a start, though. And they'd be rolling it out gradually, so the workload didn't become completely impossible.

"Good idea," Jillian responded. "I'll get to getting them rounded up as soon as we're done here."

Landon nodded. "One at a time. Here in my office. I'll get Mistress Nul in here as well for the meetings. Start with the easy ones first, the five Apollo employees, then for Six, there's one outside candidate that should be easy to rope in. Just get them here, I'll take care of the rest."

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Jillian Mitchell was a junior HR recruiter in Apollo's HR department until last month, when she moved to the Human Capital division. She knew why, too. Why Davidson recruited her, he made it pretty fucking obvious. She was 26, blonde, skinny, and 5'9", which is what makes that man tick. As much as she liked to think it was because she was an amazing recruiter, and she was probably the best Apollo had, she knew it was at least as much that Davidson wanted to fuck her that she was here. Whatever, she'd finish her work here and take the promotion she was promised afterward. At least that was what she thought when she started. As time went on, more and more she knew Davidson would end up at least trying to fuck her, although not exactly sexually. The way he looked at her, she was a piece of meat, just a pair of nice tits and a warm welcoming pussy under her skirt and blouse. She was pretty sure he already planned to make her one of his mailgirls at some point, when she stopped being useful to him. She figured she'd fight to stay useful until they had 30 girls and then take her promotion and be a less misogynist version of Davidson. Or his boss.

Jillian left Davidson's office and walked through the halls to the elevator she took to level 4, where the station cafeteria was, flipping through her tablet and grabbing a cup of coffee once she got there. It was still only 9, after the breakfast rush of the morning and not yet lunch, so the cafeteria was sparsely populated at this hour. Jillian sat down to drink. She wore a basic white button-down, a dark gray skirt that was just long enough to be considered professional attire, a gray blazer, and black heels. Fairly standard office attire around here. She looked up from her tablet and stared at the wildest thing constructed before her eyes. The far wall of the cafeteria was now shared with what looked like a locker room, outfitted with one-way mirror glass. This was "The Terrarium," where the mailgirls would shower and get ready for work. Everyone in the cafeteria or the lobby on the other side could see in and would have a constant view of the girls as they did their routine. Shower, shave, brush their teeth, do their hair and makeup.... and use the bathroom.

The Terrarium was an interesting concept. Most mailgirl programs used a version of it back on Earth, so it wasn't surprising here. Jillian looked it over. The mirror glass was one-way, so she knew everyone could see in, while all anyone inside would see was their reflections. In the center were four pillars in a row, each with two d-hooks per side, which Jillian understood to be where each girl would be chained at night to sleep on the cold metal floor of the station. They were technically enough for 32 girls, although Jillian understood there were only going to be 30. To the right and left of that was a wall of shower heads, eight per side, so the girls would have to share. The walls the shower heads were attached to were the same see-through mirror glass as the walls. The space between the showers and "tie-out area" was enough that there would be space for milling about during downtime. On the other side of each wall was a row of eight sinks. Then along each wall across from the sinks were eight toilets. The only thing Jillian found interesting was that there were no actual lockers. She made a mental note to ask Davidson about that.

All these locker room features were in full view of the cafeteria and station lobby on the other side of the 4th level. Human Capital was on level 12, there were 50 levels in all on Aurora. Andromeda was a monster at nearly the size of the moon, hundreds of levels, and Jillian was glad they weren't staffing that monstrosity with mailgirls. Although Andromeda was nearly 90% residential, maybe it wouldn't be quite as bad as she thought.

She was staring at the locker room, and her thoughts briefly started to wander to what it would be like in there, completely naked, taking the coldest shower of her life (mailgirls wouldn't be allowed hot water), but she quickly brushed it aside. Davidson might want it to, but no way she was ever letting that happen. She turned her attention back to her tablet and the candidates at hand.

The first five hopefuls, mailgirls 1 through 5, were Apollo employees. Young and ambitious, they could be manipulated easily by dangling raises and promotions in front of them. She hoped. The alternative was much worse. A one-way ticket to the surface was what was being offered to any girl who refused.

The surface was not a good place. For anyone. Much less a young attractive female. If they weren't put in a Russian or Chinese prison camp, they would at best be left to fend for themselves in the desolate tundra of Europe, at worst be in one of the colonies. These were towns largely controlled by gangs and lorded over by crime lords. Not fun, and the possibilities are not good for what would likely happen to them in such an environment.

Jillian had a general description when compiling her list. Davidson told her "18-45, between 5'4" and 5'10," skinny or at least not too chubby, and a pretty face" was her main guideline. For Mailgirl 6, Jillian was locked in on a rougher around the edges candidate. In contrast to the well-educated, conventionally feminine and attractive corporate girls, of the first five, 6 looked like a roadie for a crappy rock band, or heck maybe she was in a crappy rock band. She also wasn't an Apollo employee, or employed at all, for that matter....

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Brooke Andersen was no doubt pretty. She was tall, skinny, and her curly blonde hair was cut very short but still fairly femme in cut. It was messed up now, both from the handling by security and her trying, in vain, to wiggle out of the hand cuffs. She was on her knees, hands cuffed behind her back, and blindfolded. Again. She was no stranger to being held in the security office detention block like this, not since losing her stupid retail job in one of the station department stores last year and being forced to steal to survive. The 30-year-old was close to having the book thrown at her and being jettisoned to the surface, like almost everyone else she knew. At least the ones who hadn't been already. She had no idea how long she had been in this position in one of Aurora's detention center cells, but it had been hours. This was a long one, she knew she was fucked.

She probably wasn't getting shipped down to the surface yet. She still had a couple of strikes left, technically. But she knew SOMETHING was going on. Oh well, she couldn't do anything about it but wait.

She didn't have to wait long, as it turned out. She heard the mechanical hiss of the door sliding open, and the Security Officer Stigley entered. "GET UP!" He yelled, grabbing her arms and pulling her up before she could comply voluntarily. He threw her against the metal wall of the cell and ripped the blindfold off.

"Jeez, Burt, buy me dinner first," She said slyly. He glared at her and shoved her out the door. "Get moving and shut up," he growled. He led to the door of the security office's exit. This was weird, they never left before she got her sentence.

"Where...." She started to ask but was cut off. "Level 12," he growled, "now shut your trap." He shoved her in the elevator and hit the button for level 12. Isn't level 12 one of the corporate offices? She asked herself internally. This was extra weird.

Brooke watched the levels fly by as the glass cylinder that was one of the elevators on Aurora travelled up the tube that took it between levels. Security was level 0. Technically not a level, just an add-on basement, purpose-built below level 1. It was a bubble on the underside of the station.

After a few short minutes, they arrived at level 12. The door opened and she was once again manhandled along by Burt, or rather, Officer Stigley. He led her to the portion of the level that was Apollo Industries, down a hall littered with offices and through a bunch of blocks of cubicles. They stopped at an office labeled "Landon Davidson, Director, Human Capital. Officer Stigley pushed the button on the keypad to open the door, which slid open, much like the door to her cell had. Inside was a handsome man, probably 40, maybe 45. Full head of dark hair, and lean from lots of gym time, although not bulky. He looked up, staring his brown eyes through Brooke, a sly grin on his face. Next to the desk he sat behind was another tall blonde, holding a tablet. "Glad you could join us, Ms. Anderson," the blonde said sweetly while sitting back down.

The man acknowledged Stigley. "Officer, you can put Ms. Anderson on the floor, on her knees. Take the cuffs off, she'll need her hands." He paused and stood as Brooke was forced to her knees once again. "I don't believe we'll need you present for this, however. Wait out in the lobby for my call."

"Yes, sir," Stigley said as he left. Brooke felt oddly scared and alone now. "Are we waiting for Mistress Nul?" The other woman asked. "No," said the man, "She'll be tied up with 1 through 5 for a while. Let's cut to the chase so we can get 6 here into training."

What the fuck?! I have a name dickhead. Brooke thought. She also wondered why she was being referred to as a number. Was it some kind of prison thing maybe? 1 through 5 were other people, clearly.

"I'm Landon Davidson," the man began. "This is Jillian Mitchell. Mr. Davidson and Ms. Mitchel to you." The man stepped out from behind the desk, eyeing his new plaything. Brooke had on ripped jeans, combat boots, a black band t-shirt, and her black leather moto jacket. Very clearly underdressed in contrast to the blue pants and blazer Mr. Davidson wore, and the gray skirted version of a similar get-up on Ms. Mitchell. Not that she cared.

"It looks like you're in trouble again, Ms. Andersen. I have a proposition for you. This is your last strike." He said bluntly. Brooke opened her mouth to protest, but he shushed her. "No talking. Just listen. I've convinced Command to scrub any remaining strikes you have, pending acceptance of my proposal. You see, here on Aurora, as you've no doubt heard, we're rolling out a special pilot program to help boost morale and productivity. I'm sure you may have heard of mailgirls." He stopped and laughed as he saw Brooke's eyes wide, like a deer about to be yeeted by a truck. "You have; I see it on your face." He sat on the edge of his desk. "So, my proposal is simple. You become Mailgirl Number 6, and I make your record go away. You get to stay here, at Aurora Station. If you refuse," he paused and turned to Ms. Mitchell. "I think she might do well on the surface, don't you? As a sex slave, but she'll survive."

"Sir," Ms. Mitchell spoke up. "I think that might be a little too far...." Mr. Davidson glared at her, and the woman pulled back. She looked to Brooke with a sigh, and a look that read "I'm sorry." She was quiet now.

"I can make exactly that happen, if I want to, Ms. Andersen." He grinned slyly. Brooke swallowed. She wasn't sure of the exact specifics of mailgirls, other than it tended to vary program to program. Although she knew of a few largely universal specifics, those were not things she particularly cared to experience. "So. It's up to you now. Am I taking you to the locker room, or will security be dropping you on the surface?"

There was a moment of silence. Brooke didn't know what to do. She knew how bad the surface was. She'd never survive, or if she did, Mr. Davidson was right. She would be destined for a particularly harsh life. She didn't have much choice. Being a mailgirl would suck with a capital SUCK, but she would survive.

"If I do this, how long? And what happens after?" She should probably know at least that before making her decision.

Mr. Davidson nodded. "Fair questions. The pilot is 3 months. But you'll be automatically extended to 2 years if the pilot is made permanent. With the option for either party, yourself or Human Capital, to re-up at the end of that contract. You'd be surrendering power of attorney to Human Capital, of course. Standard practice. But your record is clean, and after 2 years, you're free to go about your life here. No further consequences. Scott free."

Well, that made it better. Brooke couldn't refuse now. She sighed. "Okay, where do I sign?" Mr. Davidson grinned as the girl hung her head. He picked up a tablet off his desk, tapping it to awaken the display. "Right here," she said, shoving the tablet in her face. She took the stylus from him and scrolled through, quickly skimming over the contract. It was a bunch of legal she didn't understand, but everything they'd talked about was there. So, she took the stylus and signed and dated on each required line. Davidson pulled the tablet away.

"So, it's done then." He placed it back on the desk and smiled. "Alright, Mailgirl Number 6, stand up and take your clothes off. Now." He didn't yell, but his voice on "now" was more forceful than even the security guards had ever been with her. So, she stood up in a daze, thoughts racing. She couldn't believe this was happening. But it was. She thought back to the day she was fired from the department store; maybe had she been on time occasionally and not mouthed off to that Karen, the circumstances that led her to this wouldn't have happened. She'd still be employed and have been able to at least feed herself without having to steal.

She took her jacket off first, sliding her arms out of the garment one at a time. "I'll take that." Ms. Mitchell said, stepping forward. "And the rest too." Brooke nodded, sliding her boots off next and handing them to Ms. Mitchell. She slid her jeans off next, then pulled off her socks, handing both over. She grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head quickly, revealing her bra and panties. They weren't anything special, honestly, just basic blue hipsters and a beige bra. She clearly hadn't been expecting anyone to see them when she got dressed that morning. She stood there in her underwear, breathing nervously. All this over a candy bar she wanted for breakfast, ridiculous if you asked her.

Brooke could feel Davidson's eyes glaring up and down her body. Not just at her tits, which weren't huge, but definitely a handful. She usually wore a D bra. She was athletically built but had a little more softness in the midsection than she wanted. But not much. Out running security burned a lot of calories.

Brooke gulped. Time to get over it. She reached back slowly, found her bra clasp, and fumbled a bit. She was shaking, but got it unhooked. She slid the straps down her arms, grabbed the strap, and ripped it off, revealing perky and round breasts with pale pink nipple and areola. They were as pale as the rest of the blonde. Handing her bra to Ms. Mitchell, she grabbed the waistband of her panties and quickly slid them down. She stepped out of them and kicked them towards Ms. Mitchell. That bit of rebellion felt good in the moment but would cost her later. She stood as Davidson looked her over. "The carpet matches. Nice. It'll have to go, though. No pubic hair, Mailgirl 6." He pet her dirty blonde curls, which were in a longer and edgier version of a pixie cut. "Grow this out too. And ditch the nose piercings."

"Okay, Mr. Davidson." She rolled her eyes. Big mistake.

"Sir." Davidson barked. "Your superiors, which, to be crystal clear, is anyone on this station besides the other mailgirls, are sir or ma'am unless instructed otherwise. And no eye contact either!" He stepped behind her and pushed her down. "Head down, on your knees, pick up your underwear, and hand them to Ms. Mitchell."

"Yes, sir." The girl did as she was commanded. Ms. Mitchell took the panties from the poor mailgirl, a look of sympathy on her face.

Davidson stepped back to his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a black metal dog collar, affixed with a dog tag with the number 6 stamped on it and some plain metal handcuffs. He stepped forward and behind Brooke, Mailgirl 6, and clamped it on her neck. It automatically adjusted to fit. He pulled the girl's hands behind her back and slapped the cuffs on. "From now on, your name is void, you are to be referred to by your mailroom number, even by you yourself. Got it? Now wait on your knees for Mistress Nul, she'll bring you to the locker room ASAP to go over the rest of the rules. Ms. Mitchell and I are going to take lunch." Davidson slid the door open and left the office, Ms. Mitchell firmly in tow.

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Brooke sat in the dark office, on her knees, hands cuffed behind her back, staring at the floor. Davidson had turned the lights off, but at least the floor was carpeted. She remained in the position she had been forced into. On her knees, her bare feet under her butt, and one of her heels touching her exposed pussy. Her very wet pussy. Dripping. God, how the actual fuck are you turned on right now?! Girl, you're more broken than you thought. She had no idea how long she was there, but it was for at least an hour or two. Davidson wasn't in a hurry to get back, and whoever Mistress Nul was, she wasn't in a hurry to pick her up. Then she heard the door slide open and the light flicked on lighting up the dull office.

"Oh my gosh," she heard behind her. "You must have been bad; they didn't put the rest of us in handcuffs!" She heard in a Southern accent as a very naked redhead padded around and kneeled in front of her. Behind Brooke were two burly security guards standing in the doorway. "Poor thing, you must be Six. I'm Charlie... er Charlotte... erm Mailgirl Five. Sorry. I'm not used to this yet either." The redhead hung her head.

"I'm Brooke. Brooke Andersen... or at least I used to be. I guess I'm just Mailgirl Six now." The redheaded Five grabbed her gently and brought her to a standing position. "Nice to meet you, but we gotta go. I'm supposed to get ya to the locker room for some type of training lickety split." One of the guards grabbed Brooke, the other grabbed Five, and led the girls both out. Out into the leering eyes of the office.

They were led through the sea of cubicles, all the while, everyone stopping to gawk at the two naked women being paraded through by armed security. The security probably made it look more awkward than sexy, though, at least to most people. Although the main reason security was there was so that neither girl got any ideas and ran away, less so than to keep the rest of the station in line. It was much the same as they passed the hall of offices leading to the elevator. Heads poked out of offices to see the naked girls being strung along by security. Once in the elevator, Five punched the button for level 4 and the group descended. Five and Six both tried not to make eye contact with their security escort... not hard because both girls were around 5'7" vs the guards who were at least 6'5" each. Brooke was now dripping wet. It was running down her leg.

"Mistress Nul is sorry she couldn't come get you. There was some trouble with another girl, and she got pulled into a meeting to coerce her replacement." Five had venom in her voice, and Brooke didn't blame her. This was fucked. She finally got a good look at the redhead who collected her as she descended the floors. She was nothing short of a goddess. Beautiful, long red hair, green eyes, and just a few freckles on her milky skin. Plump and perky breasts, skinny, and tall, probably Brooke's height." The security guards were fine, but no doubt this girl was contributing more to Brooke's arousal than they were. She wasn't sure if it was this girl or her situation that had her more wet. She didn't care. She liked it, even though it was embarrassing, which was a weird feeling. She glanced at Five's crotch quickly. She had a close-cropped triangle of the same red as her hair. She was a natural redhead.

They arrived at level 4. Brooke had forgotten about the terrarium locker room that had been put in, until now. She cringed, horrified, and froze. No way. Delivering mail naked? Sure. She had naively thought that's all this would be, even though she should have known better. It's not like similar programs weren't a thing in offices back on Earth, and although she didn't know a ton about them, she knew enough to know it was never that simple. "Come now hurry!" Five turned and grabbed her counterpart. "It's not that bad, I promise."

The guards led the way, roughly now. When they got to the door, they waved a key card over the lock, and it slid open with a hiss. They simply pushed the two mailgirls into their new clear dungeon and shut the door. They were locked in. Brooke looked around, noticing that everything was a huge mirror. The entire locker room, save the floor, ceiling, and four poles in the center, was the same mirror glass. Which was see-through on the other side, as Brooke noted. She noticed something she hadn't noticed from the lobby. Three other girls, as naked as her and five, wearing the same collar and dog tag denoting their new numerical identities, were kneeling, chained to the first pole with a metal chain dog leash. Each hook had a number above it, denoting whose spot it was. One and two were closest to the door, Three and Four, Five and Six, then Seven and Eight, each group of two occupying one side of the square pole, wrapping around clockwise. One, Two, and Three were in their spots, Four's was empty, as were Five and Six's. Four must have still been being roped into this. Five had noted that one of them was already being replaced, so Brooke wondered what happened to the original Four. She looked around at everything. This was set up so that she'd be completely visible to the lobby and cafeteria on level 4, always, no matter where she was. Wonderful, no privacy.

"Hey, Mistress Nul oughta be back soon with the new Four. We should...." Five trailed off, pointing to the others. It didn't need to be said. Brooke decided to get it over with. She walked over to her spot, knelt, and Five chained her to the hook with the leash, then, kneeling to Brooke's left, locked herself in similarly. "Only Mistress Nul has the key, so we're stuck here now." The redhead swallowed. "Brooke, right? I'm Charlie, Charlotte Dutton. I know we ain't supposed to use our actual name, but we may as well introduce ourselves properly, I figured, since y'all are in this with me."

The other girls went around in order, One speaking up first. "Jennifer Nolan, nice to meet you, I guess?" Said the tall, slender, blue-eyed brunette. "Yup, delighted. Grace Amaya," said an average-height Hispanic woman (Two). Brooke noted her dark curls and made a note to get her hair routine. An average-height Asian girl (Three) spoke up next. "Mali Sunan, a pleasure," she waved shyly. "Brooke Andersen. I'm so happy to be here with you all." Brooke said sarcastically, eliciting a half-hearted giggle from the others.

There was silence for a few moments, then Grace spoke up. "I have to ask, Brooke, what's with the handcuffs?" Brooke almost forgot she was handcuffed. She'd attempt to unpack THAT later. "Oh, that Davidson dude put them on me. I'm a hardened criminal and all." She rolled her eyes but noted the look on Charlie's face. She looked terrified.

"Seriously?!" She yipped, shifting over away from her companion. As far as she could, at least, given the leash, which wasn't far. "Relax, I stole a candy bar from one of the commissaries. That's all...." She paused. "I mean multiple times, but I only got caught like 7 times or something like that."

"Oh, thank heavens," Charlie said as she moved back to her previous spot to Brooke's left. The girls talked for a bit, intermittently, and Brooke learned that the other three were all Apollo Industries employees, given a hefty bonus and promised a pretty promotion for all of this. Four had been as well but tried to run away from Mistress Nul, so was currently occupying a cell in the detention block, the same place Brooke, rather Six had been that morning. Six was still dripping wet. It was practically running down her legs. "So odd question... but like is anyone else incredibly turned on by this?"

"OMG YES!" The other girls said in unison. "Oh, thank god I'm not the only fucked up one." They all laughed. The laughter was cut short by the hiss of the door, followed by another naked girl being shoved through it. She was followed in by a tall woman wearing what looked like a military uniform... but the type a girl might wear at Halloween if she wanted to be a soldier, but still slutty. "Get on your knees, Four! At the pole with the others!" The woman was screaming in a terrifying and heavy Russian accent. She didn't bother leashing the girl, who knelt next to Three.

"Ah Six, I see you finally joined us. Good job, Five, you're useful for something at least." The Woman approached Brooke. "You've been a bad girl, I hear. No worries, Mistress Nul will whip you right into shape. They even handcuffed you. I'll leave those on for a while." She unchained her. "Go. Kneel at the wall, facing me." She proceeded to unlock the others while Brooke scurried over on her knees, not bothering to stand. She was scared shitless. She was used to being yelled at by security, but even the biggest, burliest of guards had nothing on this Russian woman. Brooke was pretty sure she could take at least three of them in a fight. And it was fucking scary. After they all were lined up at the wall, Mistress Nul approached. "Ah, my first pets. Welcome. We have some rules here. Your job is primarily delivering mail. Most will be in electronic form, but mail nonetheless. Of course, you are at the mercy of anyone who summons you, and with a few exceptions, are to perform any task they give to you. Understood?!"

"Yes ma'am." The six girls uttered in unison.

"Yes Mistress!" Bellowed the Russian woman.

"Yes Mistress."

"Good. Good. Now as you already know, you no longer have names. For the duration of your time here, you've each been assigned a number. That's your name now. You will refer to each other as such and will be referred to as such by others. If one slips and refers to a fellow mailgirl by name, the mailgirl in question is to slap her. If she is not present, any mailgirl present shall slap her instead. Now repeat after me: Sir or ma'am, as per Human Capital, I am to be referred to only by my mailroom number."

"Sir or ma'am, as per Human Capital, I am to be referred to only by my mailroom number. I cannot comply or respond," the girls recited in unison.

"AGAIN!"

"Sir or ma'am, as per Human Capital, I am to be referred to only by my mailroom number. I cannot comply or respond."

Mistress Nul had them recite this at least a dozen times before moving on. "This is the standard correction. If you fail to correct someone who refers to you by another name, not your mail room number, you will be punished at the discretion of another nearby employee."

Brooke was lost in thought at this point, while the woman droned on about rules. They were to meet deadlines, keep themselves well-groomed and hairless from the head down, no eye contact with anyone except other mailgirls, they'd be on the clock for 12 hours from 7 to 7, and get three breaks throughout the day. Two fifteens and a thirty-minute lunch, just like every single job Brooke had had in her entire life up to that point. She had agreed to this to avoid ending up on the surface, most likely in a Russian prison camp, but here she was naked and scared in what felt like a Russian prison camp with a Russian overlord.... boy, her life was full of irony.

"You are not to be sexually active with anyone but each other, although you may be touched by others, they are prohibited from doing anything sexual with or to you. You are to comply with any order short of sexual acts or direct harm to yourself or others. During the workday, you may only masturbate or have sex here in the locker room, and while on break or off duty."

Oh, great. So, I'm only a regular slave, not a sex slave. I love it here. Totally love it here. Brooke thought, she also wondered why there was a rule about masturbating and screwing each other. She didn't imagine any of them doing that of their own free will, at least not here in the "locker room." She noted there were no actual lockers present. "Those are the basic rules. There's more, but it's lunchtime. We'll pick up after you eat." She walked over and grabbed One and Three. "Follow." Mistress Nul walked out, One and Three in tow. They went to the storage closet just outside the room. When they returned, each girl was carrying a stack of metal dog bowls, which they placed on the floor in front of each of the girls. Mistress Nul was carrying a case of some canned food. She had One and Three open the cans and plop the disgusting contents in the bowls. It was some brownish gray chunky stew-like substance. It looked like canned dog food. "EAT! And no hands!" Mistress Nul screamed.

"This is your food. It's the only thing you'll be given, and I expect clean bowls every meal. As you know, we can generate anything we need here on Aurora, I had the kitchen come up with this. It's perfectly formulated to your dietary requirements." She went on as the girls tried figuring out how exactly to eat without hands. Not that Brooke had a choice, even if they were allowed to use them, her hands were still firmly cuffed behind her back. This stuff smelled nasty. It smelled exactly like the dog chow she used to feed her parents' dog back on Earth. She finally got some in her mouth and wished she hadn't. It was nasty. Awful texture, and even worse flavor. What little flavor it had, at least.

Mistress Nul continued. "They made sure it has everything you need, without any bad stuff you don't. No empty calories."

God woman, just fucking say you had them make us dog food. Bitch. Brooke thought to herself, then remembered she was the one currently acting like a dog. So maybe she was technically the bitch.

"There will be stations around with similar bowls filled with water. I'll encourage the station employees to keep them filled for you, as you are only permitted to drink from these bowls. Unless in here, then you can drink from the shower or toilet for all I care."

Mistress Nul continued with more. They would apparently be given smartwatches, only to be removed to shower or leave for the night. These would track and time them, carry digital messages, play video recordings, and alert them of their next job. They also acted as digital keys and could open any door they may need to utilize during delivery. They may be asked to deliver other things, of course, but these would be the main types of deliveries. They were not to use elevators, unless they were prompted to by their watch or given verbal permission from a superior, which again was anyone besides the other five mailgirls and any future recruits. And of course, they were required to be naked at all times while on duty.

They would still live in their quarters on Andromeda Station and would be shuttled over to Aurora at 4:30 every morning. Their lockers were in a special room at the shuttle station on Andromeda, and they'd be required to strip naked and fly over "in uniform." They would be permitted to sleep in the locker room if they preferred, but they'd have to be chained up naked and sleep on the floor if they did. Oh, that's why there's no lockers.... oh shit, I don't have quarters anymore. Fuck. Brooke had gotten her dumbass kicked out after her roommate got sick of not having rent money, bound to happen without a job after all, a couple of months ago. She'd been bouncing between stations and sleeping wherever she could get away with since then. Guess I better get used to sleeping naked on the floor with people watching. Fuck me and fuck my life.

She had managed to finally finish her "lunch" as Mistress got to the "good" part. "Any infractions of these rules will incur demerits, as will being late on a deadline, and any accumulation of 25 demerits will result in physical punishment, administered by me, as I see fit." The girls all cringed at once, sure they'd be finding out what that entailed sooner than they'd like. "BOWLS CLEAN! NOW!"

Each girl fearfully began licking her bowl until all the grime and "food" was gone, and they were as shiny as if they'd just been washed. "Good girls."

Mistress Nul pulled out a large metal handheld laser. "Stand," the Russian dominatrix commanded. "Hands behind your head! On your toes, tits out!" The girls complied and Mistress went around, grabbing each girl and correcting her posture. "This is your inspection position. You will take this each morning for me to perform an inspection at my command. As well as at the end of each break before returning to duty."

She stood in front of Brooke. "Now Six, you know the rules on THIS." She took her hand and pet Brooke's tuft of pubic hair. She cringed at the unwanted touch. "We must fix this." She turned on the laser shaver in her hand and began going over the girl's pussy, using her hands to ensure she got in every one of her folds, singing the hair off. She patted the girl's smooth vulva. Brooke choked back tears at the violation. "There, that should be good for now. You'll be expected to maintain this yourself, of course." She gulped as Mistress Nul went on and repeated this process on each of the other girls. "Now IT will be here to issue your watches soon. Until then, I want you ready for duty when they arrive. Go, shower."

The girls dashed to the showers. It occurred then to Brooke that not only had everyone in the lobby and cafeteria seen everything that had transpired so far, but they were about to watch her take a shower. Great, enjoy the show pervs. She got under the shower head next to Two, and both girls turned their respective nozzles on, getting shot with a stream of the coldest water they'd ever felt. "OMG!" they both yelled as they jumped back, each girl doing the same as they turned their showers on.

"You do not get the luxury of warm water here. Cold water is better for your hair and skin, gives a closer shave without irritation, and keeps the glass from fogging, so our audience isn't blocked from viewing. Plus, it should keep the funny business down." Everyone knew what Mistress Nul meant by "funny business." Brooke stepped back under the water and shivered. Two did her best to wash her off and shave her legs at the behest of her mistress, even though she didn't need to; Brooke had managed to do so in the fitness center shower that morning. The girl thought it would be better to uncuff her, but only Mistress had the key and didn't agree.

After their showers, the girls brushed their teeth and did their hair and makeup. Brooke couldn't so Two helped her with her hair, being so short, their wasn't much to do other than throw some moose in it and fluff. But Two knew how to work with curls. Four did her makeup for her, a little heavy and slutty.

Mistress Null had the girls line back up and assume their "inspection position." She gave them a second inspection, of course. She got to Six and looked her over. "Tattoos are fine. But this is a no." She grabbed Brooke's nose and fiddled with her septum piercing until it came free. "The nostril is cute, I'll leave it." The woman ran her hands over her skin. "Smooth enough. I'll allow the makeup, but tone it down next time. I want professional, femme, maybe a little slutty, not like some pornstar whore." The Russian uncuffed her, finally, and pulled a metal marker from a breast pocket on her camo blouse, which barely covered her tits, much less her stomach. It was She used it to write the numeral "6" on her charge's right hip. It was a black permanent marker, so it would have to be deliberately scrubbed off, but would probably fade enough from showering that it would have to be redone each day.

As the dominatrix moved down the line, picking at faults and marking each girl with her respective number, she droned on about more rules. The girls were to take a kneeling position whenever at rest, whether taking a break between assignments, or waiting to be acknowledged by a superior, and were to stand only when beckoned to, or a new assignment came through on their watches. Everyone was "sir" or "ma'am" by default, but they were to address others however they were asked, no question. "That should be all for now. Kneel." The girls did as commanded, just as the door hissed and a man and woman entered. "Ah, finally, IT will issue you your watches."

The woman approached Brooke. She was a pretty, tall, dark-skinned woman, early twenties, and around her height. She wore a polo shirt and slacks, the standard IT department uniform. Her nametag read "Evelyne," and Brooke couldn't shake the feeling she'd be seeing this girl again soon. Clearly, Evelyne was disturbed a bit and felt awkward at the naked girl in front of her, but she fastened a rose gold smartwatch to her left wrist despite that. It was square, with a touch screen and a small lens on the top that doubled as a camera for taking photos and video. On the underside was a sensor that would track everything from Six's steps to heart rate and other health data. It was also a digital leash of sorts. It could make and receive voice and video calls too. "This is your watch. It does a lot, but you only need to worry about this app." The girl opened the display by tapping the screen. It opened to a home screen "mailgirl" app. Evelyne tapped it, opening the app. "I'm logging you in. Your locker should have a digital display with your login info on it, just in case you need to log in. You can only be logged out by a superior, but sometimes it might auto-logout overnight. There's a charging pad in your locker as well, simply rest the watch, band down on the top shelf and it will charge automatically. Also, I need you to enter your height and weight here." She handed Brooke her tablet, and she followed instructions, entering information as Evelyne prompted. Height, weight, hair color, eye color, bra size... standard appearance stats. It synced to "Mailgirl 6's" profile on the app.

Evelyne then stepped back. "Okay, I need a picture for your profile. Get down on your knees, please, hands to the side, spread your legs, and look straight ahead. You can smile... if you want to." Evelyne held up the tablet and snapped a picture of Brooke's naked body. It was awkward, and she hated it. Her nipples were hard as a rock, both from being cold and turned on, and her pussy was still quite wet. Evelyne, who felt clearly almost as uncomfortable with all this, showed Brooke the shot. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Every part of her vulva was clearly visible and wet. Her nipples were hard. She had a dirty smirk on her face. It was bad. "Thank you. There'll be a new company ID in your locker at the end of the day... h-h-have a nice day," Evelyne said before moving down to Five and repeating the process with each girl.

The man was walking Mistress Nul through the use of a tablet, thankfully. He was short, pudgy, and balding. Brooke was glad at least that another young woman had taken her stats and picture and touched her. It felt at least a tiny bit more dignified that way. After Evelyne was done with all of them, she and the pudgy man left.

"Alright, little pets! You are almost ready to go now! We have a few hours left in the day, and I want you to be on the floor. I'll have you go in pairs for now, to make things easier. One and Two, Three and Four, Five and Six. Pair up and go. But first...." Mistress Nul glared at Six. "It seems Mailgirl Six was a bit insolent during her intake. Mr. Davidson told me all about your behavior, Six. So, I've decided to punish you as a demonstration for the others of what to expect from punishment under me."

Mistress Nul grabbed Brooke by the arm and pulled her toward her, putting the girl in a headlock. She was terrified. "Don't hurt me please!" Brooke cried out. The Russian shook her head. "I won't. At least not permanently. Now on your knees!" She was forced into a kneeling position, trembling. The other girls were looking on, horrified.

Mistress Nul knelt in front of her, glaring daggers in the mailgirl's face. "You naughty girl, I get to have fun now." She stood and retrieved a folding chair from somewhere in the corner. The next thing Brooke knew, Mistress was sitting, with her bent over her knee.

SMACK! Brooke yelped at the sudden slap on her butt. "Count!" Yelled Mistress.

"One!"

Smack! "Two!"

Smack! "Three!"

Smack! "Ow FOUR!"

Smack! "Ow ow ow ow ow five..." She was whimpering in pain already. She felt tears welling up but choked them back. She'd cry when she was alone, later.

Smack! "Ssss... Six." She was about to cry, but her nipples were rock solid, and she felt her pussy dripping. She was definitely some broken, messed-up weirdo.

She got about 100 lashes. It was supposed to be 50 but doubled because she couldn't hold back and started crying around 40. She heard some frightened tears from the other girls, too. Mistress went on until Brooke stopped crying. Now she was on the floor, lying on her side with Two petting her head and comforting her.

Just then, everyone's watches lit up with a notification. They had their assignments and were off. "Are you okay to go? How's your butt?" Five helped her stand up.

Six nodded towards the Russian dominatrix in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall. "I don't really think I have a choice." She sniffled back her last tears. She had to go to work. She had to be strong, or what awaited her otherwise was worse than doing her job with a sore ass. Five nodded and hugged her. The naked hug and skin-to-skin contact was a bit weird, but she hugged Five back. "Let's go before I get in more trouble."

Five and Six were off with the others.

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"Slow down I can't keep up!" Five yelled, panting, as Six dashed up the stairs to level 10 Sector C. "You'd better, we have three minutes and 4 flights to go!" Six yelled back. Running from security for the past year, often on these same steps, gave Six an edge over her companion, no doubt.

"You don't want to be late for our very first assignment, do you, Five? I really would like to avoid any more spankings today." The girl sighed, panting. "No, I don't, but it's just... it's been a long day." Six understood that it'd been a long day for her too. And now she was dashing around the space station administrative offices, naked as the day she was born, minus a collar and watch.

She stopped and turned to Five. "I know. Let's just get this over with, and we'll talk about it, okay? We can cry about it all we want between jobs." Five nodded, and they were off again. Three... two.. one flight... and they were at level 10C. Accounting, if Six recalled right. Or maybe legal? It didn't matter. She opened the door, and they stepped through, all eyes turning to leer at the naked girls. They needed to get to office 10C07. The offices were beyond the sea of cubicles and open desks, even numbers on one side, odd on the other.

They froze for a minute, then Six gulped and grabbed Five's hand. They had thirty seconds. "Let's go, like ripping off a Band-Aid." She pulled Five along, dashing through to the hall of offices on this part of level 10. Their watches turned red and started beeping. They were late. Six hit the pad for office 10C07, and it hissed open. She really should have knocked, but at least the watches stopped buzzing.

Inside was a middle-aged man behind a desk, on a video call. He barely acknowledged them by holding his hand up, a signal to wait. Six got down on her knees, heels under butt, and put her hands on her thighs, over her pussy. Five assumed a similar position. The two waited for the video call to end.

*************************************************************************************************************

Two hours later, the video call finally ended, and the exec acknowledged the two naked mailgirls in his office. He kept stealing glances during the call, but once it was over, Five tapped her watch on his phone, and he got his message. He just wanted to hold them in his office for two hours. Five and Six heard the call, and it was not even remotely important. Execs.

The two girls found a water station between the entrances to the bathrooms on 10C. Six knelt next to the bowl of water. Five got down on all fours and stuck her face in, lapping up her fill. Her asshole and pussy were a nice display for anyone walking past.

"Can you believe that guy?" Six asked as Five came up from her drink, shifting to a kneeling position.

"Oh, my golly gosh, I can't. I mean I can, but like... what a weirdo. How late were we? How many demerits?" God, that Southern accent was adorable. Six shrugged. She had no idea. No one had specified how many demerits were given vs the time of lateness, She checked her watch.

"Well, we were only about twenty seconds late, and one demerit. It's my only one so far." Six bent down to take a drink. She was facing the wall enough that it would obscure the view, but anyone exiting the ladies' room behind her would have a wonderful view of her intimate parts upon exiting the doorway. She stuck her face in and lapped up the water with her tongue and got a healthy dose of Five's saliva with it. Her nipples were grazing the carpet, and it tingled. She looked at her watch when she came up. It was 4 PM, almost time for their last break. "This whole thing is weird, but it beats getting dumped on the surface, I guess."

Five looked at her, horrified. "I thought you stole a candy bar. They threatened to send you down there for THAT!?"

"Well yeah, but I've been caught a bunch of times stealing food. And doing some other things I'm not proud of. But I haven't had a job in a year and a girl's gotta survive somehow..." Six held her head down. "Also, I'm pretty sure they just did that to rope me into all this. Davidson promised my record would be wiped clean, and I saw our salary in the contract. It's way more than anything I could make otherwise."

Five nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty nice. I wasn't even making that in animal sciences... although it was dang close. They threatened me with the surface, too. I think they did all of us like that." She held her head down, too. "I think that Davidson guy's a creep, but I might have been fixin' to join up anyway just because he's so convincing."

"Wait, you're a scientist?!" Six was surprised, she'd expected them to recruit other screw ups and low totem pole types. Not a woman in STEM.

"Not exactly. I was in a master's program for veterinary sciences until the big war happened. I also grew up on a big ranch in Tennessee, so I cared for animals all my life. But up here I was just a research assistant. They promised me a promotion to full researcher, or even a lab position after all this."

Six nodded. At least she wasn't the only one blackmailed into running around naked in space. "They dangled a promotion, damn that's kinda fucked." Her watch started buzzing.

"Level 6E.... ready?" She said to Five, who popped up to her feet without a word. Six stood and off they went. The two went into the stairwell and shot down, a lot quicker and easier than going up. Six realized how dusty the stairs were.... only maintenance, security, and people running from security generally used them, so they were rarely cleaned. And now the mailgirls added to that list. They heard footsteps padding up, and almost ran into two other very naked girls, Three and Four.

"Whoahhhh," Six screamed as she jumped out of the way, up against the glass wall that looked out into the stars. She never really stopped to appreciate that view. Four yipped and jumped up on the railing, while Three and Fived stopped almost touching each other.

"Oh, howdy!" Five said in that weirdly chipper Southern accent of hers. "Where y'all headed to?"

"10C office 07," Three said, panting. Five and Six rolled their eyes.

"That's where we just came from. He'll probably keep you there and leer at you for two hours like he did us. And maybe be on a video conference while he does." Six said, sighing.

Three and Four both hung their heads and grunted. "I guess we're just pieces of meat today!" Exclaimed Four. Six noticed the girl had boobs small enough her hair was able to cover them while down, and she was jealous of the little bit of extra modesty Four got to have. "Anyway, gotta go, can't talk." Four said as her and Three turned back up the stairs and ran as fast as their bare feet would take them. Five and Six did the same going down.

The two rounded the next corner, arriving at 6E. On the other side of the door were more offices and cubicles. And more staring at the naked girls. Both girls hung their heads in embarrassment as they trudged through. Some of the men catcalled, others yelled gross pickup lines. Most of the women looked disgusted. I can't believe this, I can't wait to wake up from this dream tomorrow. This surely had to be a bad nightmare.

Thankfully, they didn't have to cross the sea of cubicles; the doors they used were closer to the offices in this section. They needed office 02. Six found it and knocked this time. They waited. Five knocked this time. The door slid open with a hiss. "Ah, good! Come in sluts!" a fat man behind a desk beckoned them over. The girls gagged as they entered. This day sucked. This office smelled like sweat and stank.

"Shouldn't you sluts be on your knees?!" The man barked. Five and Six complied simultaneously, getting on their knees, folding their feet under their butts, and resting their hands on their thighs. Six slipped her right hand down so it was covering her pussy as best she could. Her nipples had softened a little, but she could feel how wet she still was against her thigh. What is wrong with me? Are you that much of an exhibitionist that this shit turns you on?!

"That's better. Now I need something. First, spread your knees and put your hands behind your back, I want to see the goods." The girls complied, reluctantly. "Oh nice.... mmmmm. Anyway, I need one of you to run this out to my friend in office 6E10. He tossed Five a small box. "Go. You stay here," he said to Six.

Five ran quickly to deliver the parcel. Six knelt on the cold floor. She looked in a mirror and was slightly horrified. She was naked, of course, but her makeup had run a bit from crying, and she was filthy. Especially her bare feet were black from the station stairwell that had been cleaned, god knows when. She saw little streaks of dirt on her torso and legs.

She knelt in silence, waiting for her friend to return. The man was staring at her tits, occasionally. The rest of the time he was looking directly at her exposed pussy. "Mmmm turn around on all fours, spread your legs." Six complied. This jerkass had a nice view of her asshole and pussy, and anyone outside his open door had a good view of her hanging tits. It was embarrassing, but god she was so turned on by it at the same time. She was clearly wet, no way the man couldn't see that.

She stayed like that for a very long ten minutes until Five came back. Her eyes widened as she entered, seeing her friend's position. "Oh my...""You're free to go. Scram." Said the man. Neither girl needed to be told twice. their watches signaled it was break time.

*************************************************************************************************************

Six's ass still hurt. It was better, but she couldn't sit. She made that mistake in the shower, and it stung so bad, despite the freezing cold temperature, she popped right back up. "Girl that ass is still pink. She really did a number on you, ouch." Mailgirl Three was under the shower head next to her. They were the only ones left in. She was thankful for the girl's presence, Six was so tempted to start touching herself, the Thai American mailgirl being the only thing stopping her. She was starting to understand why there was a rule about that. "At least it's not bright red like it was when she finished with you."

They were both shivering as they finished and turned off the water. "Yeah," Six said to the girl "it stings now, but it actively hurt before." She paused, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Can I ask you something? Something.... weird?"

The naked Asian girl shot her a skeptical look. All the girls were pretty, except Three. Three was an all-out smoke show, despite being the shortest of the six, calling her pretty seemed like an insult. "Okay, shoot."

"So, there's no not real weird way to put this," she whispered as they both got under the blast dryers. "But like are you tempted to... you know... masturbate? At least a little? Cause like I probably would have if I had been alone in that shower..." Six blushed.

"Oh my gosh! Hell yeah, I've wanted to almost all day since I got naked. I'm too chicken to do it, with everyone and their sister looking in out there... but honestly, I think one of us will soon. We're all turned on enough, I haven't seen a dry pussy or soft nipple all day."

They turned the dryers on and got a blast of air from all directions. They were dry in seconds. "Oh, thank god it's not just me! Like honestly, Mali, if you weren't in that shower, I'd probably still be in there going at it. It's embarrassing but... I really feel like I need to. Like I won't make it to the end of the week without exploding. Maybe not even until the end of tomorrow."

The girl giggled. "Brooke... er Six... whatever, you know we're allowed to leave, right? Just wait until you get home and then treat yourself like an amusement park." It was true, yes, they could leave, but Brooke didn't have a home outside of here. She just nodded.

"Alright pets!!!!!" Three and Six were cut short by Mistress Nul. None of the girls liked being called "pets," but none had any idea how true that would become over the next few months. If it wasn't true now, it would be soon. Their break was almost over, and they had to line up for inspection. In numerical order. Mistress Nul went to the end of the line, Six's end, to begin inspection. She really liked picking Six first.

She ran her hand over Six's naked skin, right down to her sex. "Ooo someone's excited. You're dripping wet." The woman pulled her hand up to Six's face. "Now clean my fingers." She stuck her wet fingers in Six's mouth, she got a taste of her own pussy. She licked the juices, her juices, off Mistress's fingers. "Good girl. Now try to behave yourself, okay." She patted Six on the cheek and continued down the line. "You're all so excited today. This turns all of you on, I can tell. You're all dripping wet." She got to One and had her lick her fingers like she did Six. Only at she never cleaned her fingers off, so One got a mix of the other four girls and her own juices. Heck, there was probably a hint of Six in there as well. One looked absolutely disgusted at this fact. "Good girl. Now dismissed! All of you get back to work!"

The girls all scrambled out to their next assignments as they started buzzing on their watches.

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The rest of the day was more of the same. Delivering electronic (and sometimes even print) mail naked. The execs, all men, were mostly creeps about it, but harmless. None of the female execs summoned any mailgirls.

For now, the girls were only available to execs, to keep their workload possible. Eventually, it would be expanded to anyone who had a need, only higher-ranking employees would generally have enough credits to keep them for longer than it took to hand off whatever they were having delivered.

They'd need more girls for that, though.

Brooke was taking her last cold shower of the day and cleaning up. This one was an actual shower, not a glorified rinse, since she was done for the day and no time crunch. The girls could take as long as they wanted; the only caveat was that the shuttle back to Andromeda, and their homes, left at 8:30 PM on the dot. If you missed the shuttle, you had to stay here in the locker room and sleep on the floor. Naked and chained to your spot on the pole, just like they had to every morning waiting for Mistress Nul to arrive. Brooke didn't have to worry, because she currently had no choice but to live here, not having a home and all. Wait, should I even be referring to myself as my name, or just Six now? The girls had mostly been referring to each other by name when nobody else could hear. The whole number thing was new and weird. She bumped her nose and noticed her lack of septum piercing, also new and strange. She missed that because she liked it. But also having it taken away like that was, like the number replacing her name, a symbol of just how little control she had in her life now. Being controlled seemed a lot more like her lot in life today. She hoped she'd make it through this new contract she signed. Bright side, at least you have a job, finally. It sucks butt, but it pays better than you probably deserve. Also, cake still exists.

She got out and dried. At least the blast dryers were nice. It felt good getting that blast of air that dried her off almost instantly.

"Hey, we're all fixin' to head to the shuttle. Ya comin'?" Charlie, Five asked. It was a logical question. "No. I'm going to stay back for a while."

"It's almost 8 o'clock, hun, what are you going to do? Sleep here? There's only one private shuttle we can take, unless you want to ride butt ass naked on a regular shuttle!"

Brooke... or Six, didn't know what to say. She should start by telling the truth, probably. "Okay, well..." She couldn't look Charlie in the eye, so she hung her head. "Truth is, I don't actually have a home. I was kind of just bouncing, sleeping anywhere I could find, where I would be hidden. I figured this was as good a place as any."

"Oh my... I'm so sorry." Five wrapped her arm around her. "I could bring you back with me, but my room is small...."

"It's okay. I can sleep here, it's fine."

"You sure? I'm certain one of us can put you up for a bit. I know we don't know each other that well yet, but it sure has to beat sleeping naked on the floor, chained to a pole. Also, I've been seeing all y'all naked all day. Heck, you and I spent all day naked together, we're basically family in my book." Charlie... Five said quietly.

"I have extra room. My roommate just moved out. You're welcome to stay with me until you figure something more permanent out." It was McKenzie, number Four, who was now standing to Six's left, and must have overheard.

"That's incredibly sweet of you Mckenz... uh, Four. But you don't have to, I'll be fine, and I don't want to impose." Taking help from people was never her style.

Four crossed her arms. "What are you afraid of, me seeing you naked?" She giggled as she said it. "It's really no trouble, Brooke... Six. Honest."

"If you're sure... I guess it would be better than sleeping here." She smiled at Four.

"So let's go then, you're staying with me!" She grabbed Brooke by the arm....

*************************************************************************************************************

The "private shuttle" back to Andromeda was a cargo shuttle. And the girls would have to ride back in the cargo hold. It was private.

"That can't be safe!" Two looked scared. "I hate flying, I get sick on normal shuttles... I'll puke." She put her hands in her head. Six pulled her into a hug from behind, stroking the Latina's arm. "It's okay, Grace. You'll be fine. If you puke, nobody will care."

"I'll care!" The pilot quipped as he leered at the naked women who were his passengers. "Now can we get on the road? I told my wife I'd be home for dinner."

"I kinda agree, this doesn't look safe. Will we even make it back?!" Three didn't seem too thrilled either.

"Look," said one, "Girls, we don't have a choice, it's this or we go sleep in the Terrarium."

"Alright, let's go," Five said. She and Four stepped into the box that was the cargo hold. The shuttle was designed much like an outer space version of a box/delivery truck from Earth.

One followed. "Come on, it'll be fine." Six squeezed Two. "You're right. My wife is waiting for me anyway." This revelation suddenly made Six feel self-conscious about the naked comforting session they were currently engaged in. Even though it was entirely platonic.

Six and two got on the shuttle. "You coming?" One asked Three.

"Okay, I guess I have no choice." Three got on the shuttle. They all sat down on the floor. The pilot took one last good look at all the goods before shutting the airlock. A minute or two later they were on their way, tits bouncing all around as the shuttle shook. The ride was rough. Three even flew clean into Six's lap as the pilot hit the thrusters. Six caught her. It was smooth after that initial launch sequence.

"You caught me!" Three smiled and batted her eyes at Six. She kissed her on the lips. Knew she wasn't straight. Score one for the gaydar! Six laughed as their mouths separated. "It's not like I had much choice, but I can't complain." Six winked, then kissed her again.

"Geeez, why don't you move in with Three instead of staying with me?" Four said from Six's right. The two girls blushed.

"I'm not opposed to having a sleepover.... or a roommate." Three coo'd. Six was ready for them to fuck right here. Three would be down, it seemed. The other four girls, probably not.

"Maybe... is it still a sleepover if we don't sleep?" Six wanted to, so badly, but she was also exhausted and needed sleep. "How about a raincheck? We both need sleep. 4 am comes early."

Three pouted but reluctantly agreed. "You're right, I'm too tired. Some other time."

The shuttle began shaking again, signaling it was initiating the docking procedure. Three squeezed Six tightly; they pressed their bodies together, hanging on for dear life. The shuttle jerked to a stop violently. They were docked. A minute later, they heard a hiss as the air lock opened, offering a view of Andromeda Station's docking bay. With plenty of people still around. They weren't the only unloaded passengers. Two other shuttles had just docked.

Three kissed Six on the cheek and slid off her lap. Six's thigh was shiny and wet with a puddle of the other girl's juices. She had her own puddle pooling on the floor. They'd both be taking care of some things before going to sleep.

The girls all climbed out of the shuttle, rubbing their lower backs and stretching. It crammed in that little truck, plus the rough takeoff and landing. Six had almost forgotten she was still naked, until she realized everyone was gasping at the six naked women who just crawled out of a glorified cargo van. "How was your first day, ladies?"

The girls all turned and scowled at the tall blonde woman who had just greeted them. Jillian Mitchel. "Follow me, I'll show you to the changing room." They followed HR's bitch directly across the bay, to a little metal door. "Here you go. Your smartwatches should open it, like they do most other doors. Sure enough, they did. The girls walked in. It was a small little locker room with cubbies and a coat bar. Six saw her leather jacket on a hanger, hanging from the bar. Her other clothes were in a square cubby, marked "6." Each girl had a similar cubby with their mailroom number marked on it. The girls fit fairly well, but there were thirty cubbies; no way thirty girls were fitting in here comfortably. Ten would probably be the max if they had any hope of getting dressed. They all got dressed.

Brooke slipped into her underwear and bra. She was officially Brooke again, not "Mailgirl #6." Until tomorrow, when she took her clothes off again. She slipped her watch off her wrist and placed it on the top shelf of her cubby. It started wirelessly charging, automatically, as promised. Brooke noticed the lanyard on a hook, hanging from the back wall of her locker. It was her "employee ID." She took it off the hook and saw the very lewd picture of her that Evelyne took, taking up most of the left side. Above it was a section of blue, about a third of the ID, with the Apollo Industries logo. To the right of her picture was a section for her "name," with a large numeral "6" and her actual name underneath, in a much smaller font. Underneath the picture was "Employee ID# 2517821-06" and to the right of that "Security Clearance-0*." In the middle portion, to the right of her boobs in the picture was, "Position- Mailgirl" denoting her new job. She put it back on the hook, then she slid on her t-shirt and jeans, then her socks and boots. She grabbed her jacket off its hanger and slipped into it.

"Ready to go?" Four was also dressed, already. All the girls dressed as quickly as possible. She had on a smart white blouse, black skirt, and black pumps. She grabbed a black blazer off the hanger. Brooke looked comparatively like a slob. Or a rockstar. Or both.

"Heck yeah, let's go."

*************************************************************************************************************

The two had talked a bit on the way to McKenzie's. Originally from Boston, her dad was an Army officer until he died leading his men during the Russian invasion. Her mom was on the station, and her sister, although they all lived separately, and her brother was on the surface. He'd followed their dad into the US Army and was currently on the front lines, down below. They heard from him at least once a week. McKenzie Greenburg had grown up Jewish, and still kinda was. She still celebrated things out of tradition, but wasn't, as she put it, "super hardcore into it anymore." She graduated from Boston College and had been a junior accountant before being recruited as a mailgirl, they offered her a promotion to senior accountant, with a supervisory role, a promotion she'd have to work her ass off for at least 5 or 6 years for, normally. She was about 5'6," skinny, brunette, brown eyes, and probably about a C cup. Very pretty. But then all six of them were pretty, hot even.

"So have they made you go back to accounting yet?" Brooke was genuinely curious how that would feel. She didn't have anything to compare, other than maybe if they sent her to the department store, she last worked, but that wasn't Apollo Industries, so they really couldn't. Could they?

"No, thank God! I'd be mortified... although I'm sure it'll happen eventually. I had to go up to legal with Mali earlier, and it was brutal on her. Her old coworkers didn't hold back. At all.... I'll let her tell you the details.... if you guys aren't too busy fucking to talk." McKenzie laughed. "So, how about you? What's your story? Let me guess, graphic design?"

Brooke's whole vibe screamed "ARTIST!" So, she wasn't entirely surprised. "Not quite. I wasn't exactly employed when I was recruited. I got arrested again for shoplifting food, that's why I was handcuffed when they brought me to the locker room. They offered to wipe my record if I signed on. Before here," she gestured with her hand, indicating the station they were on, "I lived in Philadelphia for a while. I grew up near there, but I was only in the city for a few years before the Chinese bombed it to fuck and back. I survived with minor injuries, my family... I don't know, I haven't seen them since...." She trailed off, tearing up a bit. "I was working on a degree when shit hit the fan, in sustainability. And you'll never believe this, I was also a figure skater. I haven't gone back to either, even though we have schools and an ice rink here."

They arrived at McKenzie's door. "You should go back to school. I'm sure your contract would give a huge in with Apollo, and I know they're looking to make this whole station thing more sustainable. Plus, you're a mailgirl for at least two years, might as well make sure you come out of this with every advantage you have.... Trust me. My sister was a mailgirl back on the surface. I was in high school at the time, but I remember when she got out of her contract, it was rough for a while, having that on her resume. She's locked in with the company she works for. Nowhere else will hire her with that on her resume. I can already see how we get looked at, after one day... they all think we're sluts, at best. Maybe full-on whores, some of them.... Honestly, you're locked into Apollo, so you may as well be more useful to them when you end your contract."

McKenzie opened the door to her apartment. "Anyway, this is home. It's not fancy, but it's cheap and better than the locker room."To the left of the door was a small kitchen, a stove, a dishwasher, and a small refrigerator, with a counter covering the wall next to the entrance. It covered the entire wall, save where the dishwasher was, the stove was fully integrated, and the refrigerator was a countertop unit. There was a sink between the stove top and refrigerator, still with a few dishes waiting to be cleaned. It was separated from the rest of the room by a wall with a cutout window that doubled as a bar or table. To the right was a simple bathroom. After that was the living/bedroom area, with a TV mounted on the wall perpendicular to the kitchen, a desk, a closet on the far wall, and two full-sized adult bunks, stacked atop each other. Integrated into the wall directly across from the TV. McKenzie was right, it was basically a college dorm room.

"Welcome!" McKenzie spread her arms out. "My roommate was in the top bunk, but you can still have the bottom if you want. I don't care, and it's not like we're going to be doing much besides sleeping here anyway."

"No, the top is fine.... Just so you know, until I get my duffle bag from its storage spot, I literally only have these clothes... no pajamas."

McKenzie laughed. "Girl. We're mailgirls, naked mailgirls. Like either of us give a shit, and I usually sleep naked anyway. Just take your clothes off and go to bed."

McKenzie was already down to her underwear and bra by the time she finished saying that. Brooke laughed and started following suit. They were naked again. Brooke noticed the "$" scrawled on McKenzie's hip and looked down at the "6" on her own right hip, barely faded after showering twice since it had been put there. "Do you think this will come off?" Brokke gestured to the number.

"Does it matter? I mean it's just a permanent marker, so yeah, eventually, but like, that drill sergeant of ours is going to scrawl it back on as soon as it fades anyway. We're stuck with it. My sister still has a "21" shaped red spot on her hip, and she hasn't been a mailgirl for years."

"Good point," Brooke said as she climbed into the top bunk. "Goodnight. And thanks for letting me stay here." She slid under the covers.

"No problem," McKenzie said. "Happy to help a fellow slut out." They both giggled. McKenzie flicked the switch for the lights.

Brooke lay there for a few minutes. She was still horny as fuck. She brought her hand to her naked breast and began playing with her nipple a little bit. She could do this discreetly, and she had to, if she was ever going to sleep. She brought her right hand to her sex; she was so goddamn wet. She rubbed a bit, just teasing. Then inserted her pointer finger inside, sliding along, her palm rubbing her clit. Her left hand playing with her nipples. She imagined what it might be like doing this with an audience, in the locker room, and a moan escaped her. So much for discretion. But then she heard similar noises from below and realized McKenzie had the same idea. That made it even hotter. She started moving faster, in and out, palm on clit, then added her middle finger. Two fingers in her pussy felt even better. It wouldn't take long. She yelped. Neither girl was concerned with volume any longer; they were both masturbating, and they both knew it. "Oh my god... yeah... mmmmm" was heard almost in chorus. Brooke was about there when she heard "I'm coming" from McKenzie in the bunk below. Which put her right over the edge. "Ahhhhhh, ooooo, ahhhh!" both screamed. Brooke was panting but kept going. Three orgasms later, both girls were satisfied. "Uh, goodnight," McKenzie said. They were both asleep before Brooke could even respond.