Mailgirls In Space Pt. 02

Pat Two is here already! This one is a bit longer and gets more into detail on what a day in the life of an Apollo Industries Mailgirl is like, as we introduce more girls. I'll be splitting focus on Six and Twelve going forward, although Six is still my main, Twelve is a kind of "Main B."

The response to Part One has been great so far, more than I could have ever hoped for(almost 2k views in a week is wild to me), I hope you like this, and I hope to get the next part started ASAP, but I am a college student, with a full-time job, and an athlete on the side, so it may start to slow down. My goal is going forward, one part per month. I'm having a ton of fun with this!

Mailgirls In Space, Part 2.

Monday:

It had been an interesting first week. The program seemed to be popular and had the desired effect. Regular employees seemed happier than ever, and productivity seemed to already be trending up. A few female employees quit, but mostly it looked good at Apollo. McKenzie and Brooke had investigated the mailgirl concept a bit on their weekend off. This seemed to be the trajectory back in the 21st Century, on Earth. They'd been particularly intrigued by the writings of Dr. Sarah Scott about her time as a mailgirl at US Financial, and all the good it eventually brought to her life. She'd even met her wife, formerly USF Mailgirl #7, when they worked together. USF was still around, even having offices on Orion Station. Also, she found out that it was the company McKenzie's sister worked for, although much later than Dr. Scott and Co had been there. The mailgirl program didn't come up to the station colonies with the company, however. Although maybe it would be back.

Brooke had also found the journal of a girl named Kirsten Allen, Mailgirl 12, at a firm called Cambridge Cain that had originated the concept in the United States.

If the regular Apollo employees were happy, it was at the expense of the mailgirls, who were increasingly becoming more and more miserable. Especially as it seemed the company was making changes to specifically make them miserable. A few changes had already dropped, and as Brooke got to work on Monday, there were already more in her inbox. She logged into her company email on her phone, as the girls had all made a habit of doing before stripping. The first new rules came on Wednesday:

Decree HC101A: Mailgirls are no longer allowed to sit on chairs or other such furniture for sanitary purposes. Mats will be provided for kneeling throughout the station. Toilets are to be the only granted exception.

Decree HC101B: Mailgirls must now leave stalls open while utilizing the toilet. For security and sanitation reasons.

Apparently one of the girls had dripped pussy all over someone's chair and that person threw a stink.... the stall doors were just another way to ensure they had even less privacy, none could imagine what "security and sanitation reasons" could necessitate only the mailgirls going to the bathroom without stall doors. Then on Thursday:

Decree HC102: It has come to the attention of Human Capital that mailgirls have been referring to each other by their names and have been lax about making eye contact with superiors. These are both violations of the Mailgirl's code and will be punished with a slap to the cheek. Mailgirls are permitted to discipline other mailgirls for the use of other mailgirls' names. Mailgirls are only to be referred to by mailroom designation, e. g. "Mailroom Girl #," "Mailgirl #," "Girl #," or simply "#." Eye contact with non-mailgirls is only permitted with express permission of the non-mailgirl party, punishable by a slap on the cheek. Mailgirls are prohibited from speaking to superiors unless spoken to, punishable by a slap on the cheek.

So great, everyone gets to literally slap me around now. I love that, Six had thought to herself while reading that. Quite a few slip-ups had happened on Friday, and all six of them had at least one cheek with a giant red handprint on it. That night, they all talked and decided to just refer to each other as their numbers, even off duty. So, Brooke was Six now, even to herself.

As she opened her email, she heard a sigh from Five at the locker next to her. She knew why pretty quickly:

Decree HC103: We now have holo-balls for projecting hologram messages and tube holders for paper documents. These may be used at employee discretion. They are to be carried by mailgirls in their mouth only, without the use of hands.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK AM A GOLDEN RETRIEVER OR SOMETHING," Six screamed upon reading this news. "Like I know I have the hair color for it, and I'm cute, but do I look like a golden retriever?!"

"No, you look like a hot mailgirl," Four said from her locker as she was taking her shoes off. "But if you haven't noticed, mailgirl and pet are basically synonymous to most normies. You might as well be a dog to them."

She was right, unfortunately. Six pulled her hoodie off and hung it up on the coat rack. She slipped her sneakers off and put them in her cubby. "Yeah, well, I don't have to like it...."

"Oh my gosh," exclaimed Five. "Did you see the other email?! We're getting new girls, six more, they start this afternoon!"

"Oh great," quipped Six. "The more to share in the misery, the merrier."

=========================================================================

Jillian Mitchell started early this Monday. She had A LOT of work to do. Not only were they recruiting six new mailgirls today, but Davidson wanted a more extensive list of candidates by the end of the day as well. They had actually started on Friday, with three candidates lined up, the idea being to get them in training right away, first thing Monday morning. Unfortunately, having seen a week of mailgirls running around naked, being humiliated, being spanked, being slapped around, and relieving themselves (in more ways than one) in full view of an entire cafeteria and elevator lobby had made it seem less appealing to some of the women. The original Mailgirl #7 candidate had resigned on Tuesday morning, likely in protest of the program, but had begrudgingly agreed to stay on for the rest of the week. She quit on the spot when Jillian confronted her about staying with Apollo and joining the mailgirls. Jillian had a black eye all weekend from the girl punching her in the face. Security arrested her for that, and as far as Jillian knew, she was still rotting in a cell.

The original Mailgirl 4 was also in a holding cell. She was scheduled to be jettisoned to the surface today. Jillian was going to give her one more shot at reconsidering first. But that was still a blight on her record, according to Davidson.

As if two strikes weren't enough, she'd convinced a new Seven to join on Friday. Well, Seven didn't show up to work today and wasn't answering her cell. Davidson also considered that her fault, even though she'd found a replacement already. So, strike three.

Jillian sipped her coffee and stared at her computer. Seven and Eight were naked, kneeling in her office as she did so. Seven was beautiful. Long blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders, hazel eyes with the right amount of gold, slightly taller than Jillian, and unlike the earlier girls, not American. Her name was Valerie Marchand, she was 28, and she had been from Bordeaux, France, before coming to space. She was a social media manager in the marketing department.

Next to her was Eight, a low-level IT tech, Evelyne Wilson. She had been the tech who had fitted the girls with their smartwatches, so she'd seen the locker room, the girls, and part of the process firsthand. She also knew a lot about the app. This was why Davidson had wanted her recruited. At 23, she was the youngest, by a couple of years, but no doubt any less beautiful than her counterparts. She was from Calgary, had brown skin, black curly hair, dark eyes, about 5'7," and was the only black mailgirl, so far.

Davidson was in a meeting with Mistress Nul about something. Jillian just needed her to take Seven and Eight so she could go ahead and recruit the next girl. Jillian wondered what exactly that meeting was with Mistress Nul, and why it was taking so long.......

The airlock to the shuttle opened, and the pilot unlocked the six pet carriers in his cargo hold. A naked mailgirl crawled out of each one. The problem with riding in a cargo hauler was that there were no seatbelts in the cargo hold. So, after a few days, the girls had been issued pet carriers to ride over in, "for safety." They all doubted the "safety" part, of course. They slid around a ton during launch and docking. One's carrier had slammed right into Six's during launch and flipped her right over, so she rode most of the way upside down.

Six crawled out, stood up, and stretched. Just like Four had said, they were dogs. Human dogs. In all actuality, most owners treated their dogs better than this. She couldn't imagine the average dog owner spanking and slapping their dog the way she'd been this past week. "Ouch.... I'm sure, Mistress Nul will love these bruises from that one." She rubbed her left shoulder and right elbow.

"It's not that bad," Two said, rubbing her shoulder. "Just a little red." As the current oldest, Two had become the default "team mom" of the six girls. It was in her personality, anyway.

They didn't linger. They had to get moving and get ready. Technically, they started at 6 AM, getting breakrooms cleaned and stocked, and making coffee for the regular employees. Then at 7 AM, they delivered any actual mail, usually packages, that came through the actual mailroom, and finally at 8 AM, the girls were available to be summoned. But really, their shift started at 5 AM, when they got to the "Terrarium" and started getting ready... unpaid, of course. The girls were starting to realize that the nice-looking salary that had been dangled in front of them was not that good. Four had crunched some numbers, and after the frequent unpaid overtime (including the first hour of their day), the number of paid hours they were required to work, and the frequent "docks in pay" the girls received for infractions, each of them was making about $9 per hour. Which was basically nothing.

The halls were mostly empty at this time of morning, but of course, employees had begun gathering in the lobby and cafeteria to watch the show of the girls' morning routine. Not that they could see the people once they were in the Terrarium. One of the service staircases had a backdoor attached, which was how the girls entered, mostly to avoid the crowd.

Once in, they were visible from the other side of the front and back walls. Six went right to the front of the room, where Mistress Nul's desk was. Next to it was a spanking bench and a corkboard where her instruments of punishment were all hung. Her paddle, whip, handcuffs... all the things the girls had had used on them the past week, and would for the next three months, at least. To the left of the desk was a pair of stainless-steel dog bowls, filled with old water from last night. Six got on all fours and drank, not caring that it had sat there overnight.

After lapping up her fill, she dipped behind the shower and sat on a toilet. The toilets were still visible to outsiders, from an angle, but the opaque wall in front of them on each side offered some relative privacy, compared to the rest of the room. Three joined her, leaving a toilet between them. There were only four on each side of the locker room, eight total. The two smiled warmly. They very clearly liked each other. In a moment of lapse in judgment on Friday, they had shown the whole lobby how much they liked one another. In the shower, of all places. They'd given each other five orgasms apiece. They knew exactly how many, because the watches (which were entirely waterproof) tracked EXACTLY how many orgasms each girl had whenever they came, as well as intensity. It added the info to their profiles for everyone to see in the mailgirl app. Of course, Mistress Nul made them all admit it out loud during the next inspection, whenever she got a notification that a girl came at work. And if you got the number or intensity wrong, or who it was with, you went to the bench.

"So," Six sighed. She knew they had to talk about this. "About Friday evening... ugh. I'm sorry, it's just so... I can't believe we did that."

Three looked disappointed. "You mean at all? Or like just that we did it here, for everyone to see?"

"Oh, I'm not at all ashamed we did it," Six smiled. "Just kinda icked out that we gave everyone a live performance like some porn stars. But I'm also ashamed that I liked that we had an audience."

Three gave her a side eye. "Really Six? Cause you could have fooled me last week. You won the 'most orgasms in the locker room' contest by a landslide. Four was second and had half the number you did.... Even before the ones I gave you."

It was true, Six had masturbated like six times last week. And just being here with Three, thinking about fucking her in the shower, she was ready to do it again as soon as she got to the shower. "I don't care about... I'm a slut. I own it. You aren't. It's you I'm worried about."

"HEY," Three snapped at her, "don't you talk about yourself like that. Ever. We have all done it at least once already. And we've been in this job for a week. One week. Most of us have gotten ourselves off twice. Except Two, but she's like an old lady. But even she fucking did on Friday. You just... I don't know. Don't care who's watching, and like an audience. We don't kink shame.... And I was an absolutely willing participant on Friday. We fucked. We're adults. We enjoyed it. The End."

Six couldn't argue with that. She shrugged, "You're right. I researched how all this works over the weekend, me and Four. It's always been super common for mailgirls to masturbate in the locker room, even have sex with each other, when they're allowed to. We're not special. In fact, like 80% masturbate at least once in the first week. 40% have sex with another mailgirl in that first week, so we have plenty of company there."

"See," Three reassured her. "Everything will be fine. The rest of us will catch up eventually." Three stood up, "I'm going to take a shower." The girl walked away, and Six was deciding what to do. She was hungry, so she decided to grab some mailgirl chow before her shower. She grabbed a clean bowl from the stack by Mistress Nul's desk, as well as one of the cans piled alongside it. As she prepared her meal, opening the can and pouring the gross slop into the bowl, she began to reflect on Friday, thinking about her and Three in the shower... she'd have to eat quickly so she could get in the shower.

Jillian had been on her way to the detention level to convince the former Mailgirl #4 to reconsider and rejoin her comrades as Mailgirl #9, when her cell pinged, a text from Davidson. "Meet me in the lobby on 4, we can catch up while watching the morning routine." It wasn't uncommon for her to meet with Davidson, of course, or to watch the mailgirls on mornings they weren't busy. But meetings were usually in one of their offices, not a lobby, and they had only watched the girls together once, on the girls' first day, when they had observed their training. And since the next group wasn't scheduled to be trained until first break, even if they had been fully recruited, it wasn't that. She wondered what he was up to.

She approached the glass structure. The first thing that caught her eye was Mailgirl #6, as usual. She drew a lot of people's eyes first. It probably had something to do with the frequency at which she had her hand between her legs. This time, though, the athletic blonde was on her hands and knees, eating some of the slop they passed off as food out of a dog bowl. It was kind of cute, if a little disturbing. The girl's curly, dark blonde hair looked a bit like golden retriever fur, which made it a little too uncanny for Jillian. Davidson appeared to be watching Six as well.

"Interesting, isn't it?" Davidson said as she approached. "Most of the girls took to this life seamlessly. Not like Six here.... She's like a fish in water."

"Or a dog in a kennel," Jillian quipped before she could stop herself. "I mean, yes, sir, she's good. Probably the best, at least of the first group. I can see now why you insisted we hire her." Jillian was having trouble keeping her eyes off Six, whatever her feelings were about a naked girl eating out of a dog bowl.

"I have an eye for talent, Jillian, that's why I recruited you to help me, and why I picked Six here to come work for us." As he said that, Six finished licking her bowl clean and stood up, heading towards the showers. "So," Davidson continued. "Sorry, I was in a meeting all morning. I left a present in your office. Mailgirl 9."

"Oh, I wasn't aware we had recruited a Mailgirl 9 yet." Jillian was surprised by this revelation. Davidson usually had her do the recruiting or at least be in on it with him. Doing it behind her back was unusual.

"Actually, this one came to us. Annabelle Amaya, one the Med Center nurses. Her wife is Grace Amaya, aka Mailgirl #2." As Davidson said this, Mailgirl #6 had gotten her shower started... and immediately leaned against the wall, ass facing Jillian and Davidson, right hand between her legs. "She wanted to join her wife for moral support. We couldn't refuse a volunteer, of course. I figured I'd let you keep going about your work, Mistress Nul, and I inducted her. Beautiful girl." Jillian wasn't sure if he meant Mailgirl 9 or the one they were watching masturbating furiously in front of them.

Jillian couldn't take her eyes off Mailgirl 6. Nobody in the lobby could at this point, not with her current performance, but especially Jillian. She was starting to imagine herself in Six's place, masturbating in the shower for all to see, delivering mail naked.... She used to fight those thoughts, but at this point, she didn't bother. She'd end up in there eventually. Probably not this round, but the next one. She'd always suspected Davidson to be using her for her exceptional recruiting skills, but he would rather have her as a mailgirl. He was either waiting for her to slip up, or not need her anymore, either because he'd found another to replace her, or because they'd recruited 29 girls and she was slated to be Mailgirl 30. Considering his odd behavior and that he outright blamed her for failing to recruit three of the last nine.... He was planning something. She was fucked.

She finally pulled her mind away from Mailgirl #6, who now had two fingers inside that delicious looking pussy of hers. "Well, that's great news. It means I hopefully only have to recruit one more after the detention block. Rose-Ann Walters and Megan Kiner should fold quickly after time in their cells and agree to come back."

Davidson rubbed his chin, "No. Leave Megan in there a little longer, give her even more time to cook, then offer her the same deal we offered Mailgirl Six," he nodded toward the now very rapidly coming mailgirl in front of them, as she writhed in pleasure. "So, recruit two after Rose."

"Yes sir," Jillian nodded, taking in the sight of the locker room one last time. She noted the contrast of Mailgirls One and Four doing their hair and makeup, Three still showering, Two and Five eating breakfast... and Six still in the shower, about to hit another orgasm.

"I have a meeting with some department managers I need to attend. Probably to complain about us stealing their employees, so I'll be going. Good luck with your recruiting." Davidson walked away. Jillian followed seconds later, on her way to Aurora Station's detention block.

Monday morning so far wasn't bad. Six had eventually finished showering and shaving. After adding three more orgasms to her running total for the month and the first three for this week's total. The Mailgirls App tracked both stats. She'd done her hair and makeup, "slutty but professional," and had knelt at her chain. She put the collar, still attached, around her neck and fastened it there, waiting for Mistress Nul to arrive in her "knees" position. Eventually, she was released from the chain (but not the collar) and stood in "toes" for Mistress Nul's inspection, which she passed.

Before she knew it, she was in a breakroom, making coffee for the regular employees. This was a part of the first hour's routine, cleaning and making coffee in the breakrooms. Then, delivering physical mail from the mailroom until 8:00, when the girls were officially available for deliveries. Six had already done two deliveries and was in "knees" on a mat on level 18, kneeling, her butt resting on her heels, hands behind her back, left wrist in right hand, head down, and her knees spread so her pussy was exposed fully. She liked this mat because it faced a window and had a pretty view of the stars outside the station, through the Fused Silica glass wall. She could stare out into the beautiful vacuum of space beyond while nobody was around.

The universe was beautiful, although it certainly seemed as though it hated her lately. Six wanted to cry every day. She did when she got home, every day. Only Four had seen that, and wasn't about to let on to the other mailgirls that Six, a seemingly well-adjusted, confident, and beautiful badass, with quick wits, who made jokes, and seemed to embrace being a mailgirl so fully, turned into a baby who sobbed her eyes out, curled up in bed for an hour every night. Sometimes, Four comforted her friend, but often they just cried together in Four's bed until they fell asleep.

Six had moved in permanently already. Four decided she needed a new roommate anyway, and it would be nice to share with someone whom she didn't have to hide her job from or explain too much about it. Plus, they got along super well and were already friends. Six had to put her head down while people passed her in the hall.

Her watch, the Mailgirl Management Unit she had to wear all day, finally buzzed. She had another job. Chase Hawley in Legal. Mr. Hawley was nice. Six could tell he had a crush on her, but he was a little old. Not old, but just too old for her... probably about 50 or so. He liked to pet her head, and usually gave her treats, little candies he kept on hand and fed to her. He called for her, and he was high up enough to request her specifically, and he did so around the same time every day, somewhere between nine and ten o'clock. He was nice to her, so she looked forward to it. She liked having at least one job where she didn't have to worry about anything super humiliating happening.

Off she went. Her bare feet pattered against the station's cold floor as she ran to the stairs. Through the door and up she went. She had to move quickly, even though the metal grating of the stairs hurt her feet, she didn't have time to be cautious. Time wasn't a luxury afforded to mailgirls. Mr. Hawley was sweet, but he would still give her demerits for lateness, although he kept it to only one or two, unlike some. She entered the door for Legal and dashed to Mr. Hawley's office, not stopping to worry about the whistles, comments, or stares as the naked girl ran through the offices.

She knocked on the door, and it slid open with a hiss. She was on time, so no demerits. Six stood in "feet," legs spread, feet flat, tits out, head down, and arms behind her back. This was now the standard waiting position rather than kneeling. Unless the mailgirl had a tube or hologram ball in her mouth, then she would wait in "knees" for the object to be retrieved.

"Good morning, Six!" Mr. Hawley was always excited to see her. "Good morning, Mr. Hawley," responded Six, without looking up. "This mailgirl is ready for her assignment, MR. Hawley."

Mr. Hawley giggled, "Good, you remembered to call me Mr. Hawley, not sir." He pulled a mini peanut butter cup from the dish on his desk, unwrapped it, and fed it to her. Then he patted her head, rubbing his hand in her blonde hair, fluffing it up a bit. He picked up a plastic messenger tube. "Now I need you to take this to Accounting for me, Six. I'll send the office number to your MMU," He tapped his smartwatch to hers to transfer the data, "now, knees please, you deserve a rest." Six complied and entered her resting position, while Mr. Hawley authorized her stay in the app. Execs could spend credits to keep a mailgirl for an extended period, and Mr. Hawley gave her about 20 minutes of kneeling with the stupid plasticl tube in her mouth.

Jillian had success with Rose-Ann Walters. It took almost no effort; after a week in a holding cell, the girl would have killed to be let out. Now the Brit was kneeling in her office as Mailgirl #10, with the other three new recruits. Jill wasn't sure WHY Davidson and Mistress Nul insisted they had to kneel in "knees" position in Jillian's office, for hours until first break at ten. It was almost nine now. Jillian walked out and hit the button to close the door. She had one more to recruit before the mailgirls' break, when they'd all be introduced to their new coworkers and begin training in the locker room. Davidson is meeting with the prospective Mailgirl #11 now. Mailgirl #12 was her responsibility. She wasn't having the same luck as she had with Ten. At least she hadn't gotten punched yet. Beth Hale was a media relations expert, and up until a couple of minutes ago, one of Jillian's few close friends.

"Think about this, Beth, your life will be ruined if you keep walking away."

"Oh yeah," her friend was irate and screaming. "Who's going to ruin it, you?! You can't be serious; I'll take my chances!"

"You'll take your chances on the surface, Beth." Jillian had no idea if that would work. The truth is, they weren't sending girls to the surface. Prime Minister Carlo, the station cluster's leader, had nixed that idea last week. But Jillian was running out of options and hoped Beth didn't call her bluff on that. She had the feeling that if she couldn't lure this one in, Davidson would have her head. She may as well just strip now and go kneel in her own office.

"You can't send me to the surface. That's not legal." Her bluff was called. "I work in media relations; I saw the press release before it came out. Prime Minister Carlo is putting a hold on all jettisons, indefinitely."

Jillian sighed and hung her head. She was out of cards to play, and she knew it. Except for one, and one she didn't want to have to play; the friend card. "You're right, we can't actually do that. We can fire you, though. And the resources Davidson has... You have no idea how ruined you'll be. Probably worse off than I'll be after you leave. Please, Beth, don't do this. It's not that bad, and I don't want to see my friend ruined and destitute."

"Like I care about you, Jillian. And don't call me Beth, only my friends call me that. It's Bethany to you." That stung Jillian more than anything, she'd lost her friend, regardless. "If it's not that bad, why don't you just sign up? I've seen those girls. I see how they're treated, how people talk about them behind their back... how you and I and the others talked about them this weekend...." Bethany trailed off, and Jillian knew she was right. Being a mailgirl was probably pretty bad. "No. I'm not a puppy or a sex object. I'm not being treated like everyone's pet and humiliated like that. No. Fuck off Jillian."

With that, Bethany walked away and out of Jillian's life. She'd quit, but Davidson would destroy her, and Jillian hated to think about it. She turned away and started crying as she made her way back to Human Capital.

Six knelt on the floor of the office, Accounting, a plastic tube in her mouth like a silly dog waiting for its master to take the paper she retrieved from the yard. The exec she was delivering to took the tube from her. She immediately rose to "feet."

"Dismissed," the man shooed her away. She scurried out of his office and found the nearest mat. Back to her knees. She bent down and drank water from the bowl next to her. It was salty and gross, mixed with sweat and spit from other girls, but she was used to it.

"Slut!" A short woman yelled from a nearby desk as she swiveled around in her chair, facing Six. "How could you do this to yourself? Look at you. Pathetic." Six was very glad she wasn't allowed eye contact at the moment. She didn't want to look this woman in the face while she was being berated by her. "You're an absolute disgrace to women everywhere. All you whores are! You want to deliver glorified emails, fine, lower yourself to that if it makes you happy. But put some damn clothes on!"

"Ma'am, mailgirls are not permitted to wear any clothing. As per regulations, this mailgirl is in her proper uniform." The canned response went like that, Six thought. She couldn't exactly remember.

"Fine. Be a slut then. Run around naked like some whore. Ridiculous." The woman turned around and went back to work.

Her first break would start in less than twenty minutes. Six hoped she wouldn't get pinged before she got to the locker room. She was not so lucky. The MMU on her wrist buzzed. Level 12A, Human Capital.

By the time she got back to her office, Jillian had stopped crying and managed to put on a brave face. There was no way she was going to be seen crying by the mailgirls holing up in her office right now.

When she entered, she noticed a beautiful Latina had been added to the naked collection, Mailgirl #11. It was getting crowded in her office now. That was five mailgirls, and she was supposed to have six. Deep down, she knew what was coming as her phone buzzed. Davidson. "My office. Now." She knew she wouldn't have time to move on from Beth; he'd know what happened by the time she got back here.

Jillian swallowed and looked at the mailgirls. "I'll see you ladies later." She hoped from the other side of the glass like this morning. Davidson's office was just down the hall, so she arrived within seconds. The door slid open before she even knocked, and Mistress Nul exited past her. "Jillian, I'll see you later."

Mistress Nul didn't usually acknowledge her, so that was weird. She'd been on this level a lot already today, and she used her name, so maybe this wasn't what she was dreading. That hope dwindled a bit when she entered and saw Davidson at his desk, a beautiful, caramel-skinned brunette standing next to his desk, hands folded in front of her. She must have been mixed-race, judging by her looks. Shit, who's she? I'm fucked.

"Jillian, sit down, please," said Davidson, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk. "Let's not beat around the bush. I heard what happened with your friend Bethany Hale. That's another loss. Four out of 15 so far. Jillian, that's not good."

Jillian had an idea where this was going already. She looked at the stars through the window behind Davidson. Space was pretty, but cold. Jillian felt she'd be finding out how cold it was in a minute. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't say anything, just listen. This is Jasmine Philips, our new recruiter here at Human Capital," he gestured to the woman. Jillian knew what that meant, not an additional recruiter, her replacement. That didn't have to be said. "Jasmine, why don't you go next door and help Mistress Nul with the new mailgirls? I want us to be alone for this."

"Absolutely, Mr. Davidson," the girl said as she walked out, giving Jillian a sly grin.

"I have a proposal for you, Jillian," he said, pulling up a page on his tablet and handing it to her. She didn't have to read it, she knew what it was: a mailgirl contract. Her mailgirl contract.

"As you know, I need a twelfth mailgirl. It's 11:59 on our deadline, and I'm out of options. Your failure is the reason I don't have twelve mailgirls this late, so I need you to make good on it. You're going to be Mailgirl Twelve. I've already terminated your position as of twenty minutes ago, so don't bother begging. But one contract as a mailgirl, make good on your failure, and I'll give you everything you were due at the end of your previous contract. The promotion you were promised, done. The completion bonus and any other payouts are also all yours. It's all in there."

A tear formed as Jillian scrolled through the contract. It was all there. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, she signed and handed it back to Davidson. He seemed shocked she'd given in so easily. "I knew this was coming. Always did. It was inevitable. I thought it would be much later, I figured I'd be Mailgirl Thirty.... Or one of the next groups."

Davidson laughed. "Sorry, Twelve, you didn't make it that long." He paused momentarily. "For what it's worth, I liked you. You were a good recruiter, and yes, I hired you because you're pretty, and I always planned to make you a mailgirl. Like you, I thought it would be later, but things changed."

She swiped a tear from her cheek. She did have one burning question, "So I'm assuming I'll be seeing ALL of that Jasmine girl at some point?" She paused, then added "Sir."

"Not sure. It's possible, but I also have to be careful. Too many girls on my team end up as mailgirls too quickly, and none will want to work under me. Now take your clothes off. Mailgirl Six should be here to collect you soon, and I still have to finish your onboarding."

Six recognized where she was. How could she forget Landon Davidson's office? The place where she'd signed her life away and stripped herself of her clothes and all her dignity. She wondered why she was here; to her knowledge, none of them had been summoned to Human Capital during the first week. She knocked on the door. It slid open with a hiss.

She saw a tall blonde in a kneeling position... a very familiar tall blonde. It was Jillian Mitchell, or rather Mailgirl Twelve, as the "12" scrawled on both hips, lower back, and left breast indicated. She had "6" scrawled in the same places; all the mailgirls had markings like that. "Feet," Davidson said. "Now, both of you!"

Six complied nearly instantly. Twelve stood up and took the same position. Davidson walked over to Six. "This is your new coworker, Mailgirl # 12. She's your responsibility now, Mailgirl #6. I've linked your MMUs in the app, your demerits are hers. Your punishments are hers. And hers are yours. You'll train her well, I presume?"

"Yes, sir, this mailgirl will be a good trainer, sir." Six was the best, by far, that's why Davidson was assigning his former colleague to her, specifically. He still held a soft spot for her and wanted the best for her, mailgirl or not. Especially since she had helped to or outright recruited the previous Mailgirls 1-11. Her coworkers would probably be pretty upset with her, she'd need all the help she could get to help earn some level of respect from them.

"You're on a timer, get back to the locker room," he waved them off. "Dismissed."

Six dashed out of the office, Twelve in tow. Her MMU had a little "E" symbol in the corner, indicating they were allowed to use the elevators, likely for speed. The girls entered the lift, and Six hit the button for level 4.

"Fancy meeting you again," Six said slightly coldly. She looked over Twelve quickly. She was hot, as Six had originally noted during her recruitment, and she certainly wasn't surprised the girl got roped into a contract, somehow. She was even clean-shaven, unlike most of the other girls when they were recruited. "He's a slimeball, isn't he?"

Twelve finally picked her head up. She had gotten a somewhat less cold and complimentary treatment than the other girls had, but she was still mad at Davidson for stabbing her in the back. "Absolutely," she smiled, "he's greasy and slippery and a snake."

"A lot of the other girls think that about you," Six wasn't necessarily one of them; she'd mostly gotten herself into this. "Just so you know. I mean you're tits deep in shit with us all now, but you'll have some ass kissing to do." Six wondered if it would be literal ass kissing or figurative. Probably a little of both. The lift stopped, and the door opened. She grabbed Twelve and pulled her out and through the back door of the locker room.

"Ah, Six, nice of you to join us. You brought Mailgirl Twelve, good," Mistress Nul said as the girls approached the open area of the room, "Twelve, knees. We've been waiting to get started with your induction." She pointed to the floor in front of her, a spot next to Mailgirl Eleven. Twelve complied and padded over, taking her position as instructed. "Six, your break started already, you'd better hurry and shower."

Six ran to the showers and got in, taking the showerhead next to Four. "Wait, is that who I think it is?" Four asked.

"Yup. Jillian Mitchell, aka the girl who helped get us all into this mess, aka the new Mailgirl Twelve. Poor thing got fucked in the end," Six said as she threw on some quick soap, letting the cold water wash it off. They heard the sounds of Mistress Nul running the new girls through all their positions. The first few days had been simpler. Other than "toes" for inspection, the girls were only instructed to kneel while at rest or waiting for a delivery to be received. Then they were issued "mailgirl manuals," a copy of the handbook that had in it their regulations (up to that point), and all the positions they were to have memorized. Most common were the at-rest position "knees," the waiting position "feet," and "toes" for inspections. There were others, and any employee could order the girls into any position they wished, provided they were familiar with the positions. As of this morning, "knees" was now the default waiting position for a mailgirl who was carrying something in her mouth.

"Ughhh I have to be nice to that bitch?!" Four pouted, "This whole thing just keeps getting worse and worse."

"I mean, you technically don't have to, but whatever she did before, she's one of us now," Six said as she finished rinsing. "You know how hard our first week was, don't make it harder on her than it already will be."

Six and Four exited the shower, having finished. Six noticed she could see all the girls except for one.... "Hey, where's Two??"

"Oh, we haven't seen her either, since break started. She ran away when she saw the new girls through the glass, into the service stairwell." It was Three who spoke up. "She seemed upset. I hope she makes it back for inspection."

"We were just about to decide who was going to go get her," Five said. "She's cutting it mighty close on time."

"Don't worry about that, I'll go," Six volunteered. She owed Two for comforting her after her beating she took on the first day.

Six entered the service stairs from the back and immediately heard the sobbing she'd somehow missed before; she'd been so focused on getting Twelve in the locker room on time to avoid demerits. She followed the sound up and around the corner. Two had her knees in her bare chest and her head buried in her arms, which were across her knees. She was crying.

"Hey now, I thought we all agreed mailgirls don't cry?" Six said, jokingly. She sat on the step next to Two. "You alright? It's almost inspection."

"No, I'm not alright and I don't care," Two muffled between sobs. Six reached over and rubbed her naked back.

"What's wrong? Tell me."

Two lifted her head and wiped tears away. "Mailgirl 9. Annabelle...." Two trailed off, sobbing.

"Okay... you know her?" Six was confused

"She's my wife," Two started sobbing even heavier.

"Oh shit..." Six knew what was going on without having to hear more. She pulled Two into a hug. "I'm sorry she got roped into this, too. But inspection is starting soon, and we need to get you cleaned up.... She needs you. Now more than ever. You'll get through this, together. As mailgirls.... Also, do you want her to see you get punished before her training even finishes?"

Two perked up and wiped away tears. "No, I don't want that. And you're right, I need to be strong to help her. This'll be the worst week of her life." She hugged Six back, "Thank you, I needed that," she smiled.

Six got two in and brought her to the sinks at the front of the room. "Don't look," she whispered to her friend, "we need to hurry, and it'll upset you."

Thankfully, the girl had showered and shaved this morning, so she shouldn't have any stubble to worry about. Her hair was in a bun, so it was fine, although the supplied makeup was waterproof, it was still a tad runny from crying. Six wiped some mascara and liner from under Two's eyes, then a quick swipe of both added a new coating that made her look presentable. Concealer on her cheeks covered any trace of running eye makeup. It would have to do. Two looked presentable enough, and hopefully, Mistress Nul would agree.

"Alright, One through Six, your break is over! Stand next to Twelve, for inspection!" The girls complied quickly. Seven through Twelve remained on their knees, but the others instinctively took their "Toes" position.

"Six, my favorite. Knees! I'm going to need you to stay behind and help me with the new girls." Six knelt, ankles together, knees spread, arms behind her, and head down. Mistress Nul inspected the other girls and let them go back to work.

"Feet, Six, next to me."

Six complied. She wondered what her role would be in training the girls, but she was dutiful and waited to find out. She snuck a look at Nine. She had some teal in her otherwise brown hair, a lot of ear piercings, and a few small tattoos. So, Six was no longer the only "alternative" mailgirl in appearance. She was pretty, with a pink birthmark framing her left eye, which made her all the more adorable. Two had definitely scored for herself.

"We're working on positions. To make sure everyone gets it perfect, Six, you will demonstrate each position as I call it out. The rest of you follow Six's lead. Toes!"

Up on her toes, Six laced her hands behind her head and stared straight ahead. The others followed.

"Feet!"

Six lowered herself to her feet, hands behind her back, and lowered her head, leaving her staring straight at Mailgirl Ten's pussy in front of her.

"Ankles!"

Six bent at her torso and grabbed her ankles. This left her the most exposed she'd been all day, everyone in the room beyond the mirror glass had a great view of every part of her vulva and asshole. The others copied her. Mistress lingered on that one extra, of course.

"Knees and toes!"

Six went back down to her knees, this time leaving her feet behind her, so her toes remained splayed on the ground, hands behind her back. This variation of the knees position was the most uncomfortable, by a long shot. The new girls, of course, did the same.

"Knees and elbows!"

Six and the others curled their toes back and leaned forward, elbows resting on the floor, ass pushed up, hands flat. Another great view for those behind the glass.

"Knees and shoulders!"

Six sat up, arched her back, and stretched so her shoulders rested behind her feet. She was staring straight up into the lights, and her tits were very well on display. Her figure skating background meant she still had enough flexibility to make this work, without a lot of discomfort, but most of the other girls had a lot of trouble with this one.

"Knees!"

The girls went back to their knees.

"Now it's time for a snack. We'll show you how a mailgirl eats and drinks. Six, please pass out the bowls."

Six collected the bowls from the floor. There were eight exactly in the locker room, so they'd have to share, probably. It was enough for all seven to have their own, for now. She laid them on the floor before each mailgirl, keeping the last for herself. Mistress Nul took it and handed her three cans of "mailgirl chow."

"Half a can each, you know the drill."

Six opened each can and poured half in each bowl, as instructed. Then she returned to Mistress, who had put half a can in her bowl, which was now on the floor. She knelt in front of it without being told, in knees position.

"Now Six, why don't you go ahead and show your new friends how mailgirls eat their food."

She gulped. This felt like last Monday all over again, but Six dutifully leaned in and stuck her face in her bowl of slop and started eating.

"See," Mistress Nul pointed, "now all of you eat! I want these bowls clean!"

Mailgirls 7-12 followed along, trying their best to eat from a bowl on the floor with no hands. Six was better at it but was still struggling a little. She finished first and licked her bowl clean.

"Very good, Six," Mistress petted her head, rubbing her fingers through her blonde curls. "This is why I like you. Good girl."

I'm not a puppy, bitch.... I guess mailgirl and dog aren't that far apart, like Four said.

The others finally licked their bowls clean. Mistress Nul began going over the rules of the six girls' new existence. Six tuned it out, she didn't need the reminder, and she already wanted to cry. She thought she might have heard some sniffles from the other naked women but couldn't be sure. She stared at the floor, contemplating how much she hated her life. She didn't hear Mistress finish or say her name, she was so zoned out, until she felt a swift kick to the butt.

"Six, pay attention! While I speak, please get these girls' uniforms ready," she handed Six the laser shaver. "TOES! Everyone but Six!"

Six stood up and padded over to Mailgirl Seven. She was a pretty blonde with hazel eyes. She whispered to the girl, "I'm so sorry about this. I'm going to need to touch you, but I have to be sure I get everything." She ran the laser across the girl's vulva, and, bending down, used her hand to make sure she got everything, even a bit inside her folds. The girl looked like she wanted to cry. Six touched her finger to her mouth and shook her head. It was better not to cry, especially in front of Mistress Nul, anytime but especially when she was speaking.

"You'll have to keep up on this yourself. Shave every morning, trust me."

She repeated that for all the other girls, until she got to Twelve, who was already completely bare. She still had to make a show of it by running the shaver over everything to be sure.

"Sorry, Twelve, I still have to. She'll insist on it."

Six ran the shaver over Twelve's naked pussy. She got down on her knees to touch her, making sure she got everything. Twelve's pussy was remarkably cute, she thought. She was wet like the others and Six herself. The room reeked of arousal and pussy.

She got up and handed the shaver to Mistress. "You smell like sex, Six. Shower, now. And shave. All of you go shower, now."

Six got under a shower head, and the others followed her to their own. She saw the recoil, one by one, as the cold water hit them. "Don't worry," she said to the group, "you'll be used it within a few days."

She started rinsing herself, then picked up the razor and shaving cream. The girls weren't allowed to laser shave; Apollo preferred the show of the old-fashioned way. She turned to the girl next to her, Twelve.

"Hey, could you do me a favor? Shave me? It's weird, but it's faster to have someone else do it, and she's probably not giving us that much more time. Plus, you get payback for me being all up in yours a few minutes ago."

Twelve took the razor and cream from Six. "I guess that makes sense. And sure, I owe you a lot of favors, honestly."

Twelve lathered Six up and went to work. It'd been a while since Six had had a hot girl's face this close to her sex without said girl eating her out. Twelve got in deep, making sure she got everything. She stood up and handed the razor back to Six. She then leaned in and whispered in Six's ear, "You have a pretty pussy."

Six blushed a bit, "Yours isn't half bad either." They both blushed.

"Alright my slutty pets! The shower is over, line up in order. Knees."

The girls all dashed out of the shower, grabbed towels that were too small to cover anything, and tried their best to towel off while rushing to line up. They all knelt in numerical order. Mistress went down the line, one by one, putting each girl in "toes" and inspecting her "uniform."

The door hissed open, and One and Five walked in. "Ah, One and Five, on time. It's time to get you ladies out on the floor for a while. I'll have two of you assigned to One, Five, and Six for on-the-job training. One, Five, Six, next to me, feet!"

The three "veterans," if one week could truly be considered a veteran at anything, scurried over to the indicated spot next to Mistress.

"One, you take Seven and Nine, Five take Ten and Eleven, Six take Eight and Twelve. I have your MMUs linked. The two girls accompanying you will be your charges for the next couple of days. You will train them to the best of your abilities. You will be punished alongside them for any failures or shortcomings on their part. Six, stay back a moment, the rest of you, go!"

The other six mailgirls scurried off, in their assigned trios. Eight and Twelve stood each to one side of Six. Mistress Nul approached them.

"Six, I will be swapping the other girls every two days, however, Human Capital has given strict orders that Mailgirl Twelve is to stay under your tutelage, alone. There are concerns with Eight here, because of her IT background, she may easily be able to do funny business with the app she helped design. They asked me to hand her over to a girl I trust for the first couple of days, at least. I mean it when I say you're my favorite. You're the best I have, and I trust you.... but let me down and I'll have some creative punishments awaiting you. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress, this mailgirl understands. This mailgirl will not let you down."

"Good girl, Six. Dismissed."

Six's MMU pinged before she left the locker room. Pickup in the animal sciences lab. She turned to her tethered cohort of equally naked women. "Hurry, keep close behind me, head down to avoid accidental eye contact with anyone, but up enough that you can see, no talking, don't stop unless we absolutely have to. We have a lot of stairs to climb, but plenty of time. Okay? Come."

She dashed off, up the stairs, her trainees in tow. The girls weren't allowed elevator use unless the MMU designated they were allowed, but they had noticed some patterns. More than ten levels almost always had the "E" symbol denoting elevator use was permitted, if they were carrying something awkward or heavy, or certain equations of floors + time allowed would also trigger the allowance of elevators. There were also a few areas of the station only accessible by elevator, like the detention block, or some of the labs. Generally, the app was good at assigning a mailgirl who was close enough not to need elevators. But usually, the furthest away but within that threshold. Still with a huge, 50-level space station and only six mailgirls (twelve as soon as the new ones were properly trained), it wasn't possible to keep elevator use low, yet. Six assumed they'd be hiring more girls asap. Probably ready to go as soon as the newest six were self-sufficient. Animal Sciences was on level 25, they were on 4, so this was an elevator mission. However, the girls would have to take the stairs until they hit ten levels, then they would go up in the service elevator. That was the rule, and the elevator wouldn't be opened by their MMUs until level 14.

"Keep up, Twelve, we're almost at the elevator. Two flights to go." She had looked behind her and saw Twelve struggling a little, no surprise, the woman was a desk jockey, who likely used the stairs as little as possible, which was almost never, like most employees. Eight was an IT technician, and she noticed they tended to use the stairs.

They hit level 14, and she rounded the corner, using her MMU to open the elevator door, and pressed the button for level 20 as Eight and Twelve slipped inside. All the doors on the station were locked, for security reasons. The keypad was an RFID pad, tripped by an RFID device. Regular employees carried a card that would work on certain elevators, depending on security access, via an RFID chip inside. Alternatively, a company issued devices, like phones or smartwatch MMUs would also grant access to the elevator. The mailgirls app had the ability to disable the feature until a girl was at a specific elevator. The device had precise location tracking, so they were always being tracked while wearing it.

As they went up, Six turned two Eight, and looked her over. She was a very pretty black girl, around her height, with light brown skin, and dark curly hair that fell a bit below her shoulders. She was skinny, but in a "I'm in my early 20's with an Amazing metabolism" way, not "I worked really hard for this physique" with very perky boobs, maybe a B cup? Six wasn't sure exactly, but they weren't big. Judging by the twelve girls recruited so far, Human Capital/Davidson clearly had no discernable type other than; not fat. She was very clearly in her early 20's, vs the 25 plus of the rest of the group so far. More importantly, Six had met her before.

"Eight, you're the IT girl who fitted me with this last week?" Six held up her wrist, displaying her MMU. "Thanks for that by the way."

"Makes you feel any better, they gave me one too," she held hers up as well.

Twelve held her wrist up, "I also got one."

Eight glared at her, "Bitch, you're the reason we both have them. Davidson's little pet snake."

Twelve looked hurt, like she wanted to defend herself, but it was Six who spoke up.

"Hey! All three of us are in the same position, mailgirl. She's one of us, and trust me we need to stick together, because not a single other person on this floating hunk of metal has our backs. Me and the other five wouldn't have made it through last week without each other. Not a chance," she turned to look at Twelve. "Plus, I'm sure she'll have ways of making it up to us."

Twelve knew what she was implying and hung her head, "I'm sorry I was just doing my job. It was nothing personal, I didn't have a choice. It was taking the job in Human Capital or be Mailgirl #1... in hindsight maybe I should have just said no and gotten it over with. But yeah, I'll do anything I can for any of you. Including THAT."

Just then the elevator stopped, and the door opened. The three nude women dashed out, back into the maintenance stairs. A giant, winding, dimly lit tunnel, full of pipes to dodge, wiring, control boxes, and other things none of them really knew what they were for, but they looked important. Most employees and other station personnel weren't allowed access to these stairs, or the maintenance elevators, other than maintenance, IT, and security. And now the mailgirls, mostly to drive home they weren't "real" employees, by othering them, not allowing them to use the "normal" elevators, meant they had to use the maintenance staircases for elevator and jobs.

Six pressed her MMU to the keypad for the animal sciences lab, and the door hissed open. She dashed in and ran to the reception desk. As soon as Twelve and then Eight arrived, the MMUs pinged and flashed green, signaling a timely arrival. No demerits on this one, all three stood at the desk in "feet." The security officer, who was playing glorified receptionist (this was a highly restricted area) looked up.

"We only ordered one, why are there three of you?" She asked sternly.

"I'm sorry ma'am, this mailgirl is training two new mailgirls today," Six said. "They are required to stay with me to observe and learn their duties, ma'am."

"Well, this is a secure area, I can't let all of you in," the security officer grunted. "I'll have to call my super, you sluts just love making my day more difficult, don't you?"

"No ma'am, this mailgirl is only trying to do her job. I'm sorry you have to do extra work, this mailgirl will be less of a burden in the future, ma'am."

The officer glared at all three mailgirls, clearly unhappy that Six wasn't alone. She dialed a number on a smartphone.

"Yeah, Bob, it's Heather, 114-1. About a mailgirl we ordered up to the lab.... Yeah, she showed up on time. But the stupid whore brought two of her friends along. Says she's training them...... I'm only authorized to let the one in...... Okay if you say so. But also, can I let them in naked?.... Yeah, I understand they aren't allowed to wear clothes, but I thought the lab was a sterile area? Alright if you say so."

She hung up. "Fine, all three of you stupid sluts can go in. But I got my eye on you."

It turned out the scientists in the lab had gotten tired of playing with some of the puppies they were evaluating to see if they could be trained to, ironically, deliver messages and function as couriers, independently of a human supervisor. The three mailgirls thought that, considering their treatment so far was a lot like a puppy with an abusive owner, being possibly replaced by actual dogs would have been a case study in irony. Of course, the pervs at Apollo would have a much harder time sexualizing a shiatzu than they do an attractive naked woman, so they did have a huge leg up there, as cute as the puppies were.

The girls, of course, were expected to basically act like dogs themselves. The scientists even fed Six a milk bone for being a "good girl," which she had to choke down without protest, or 50 demerits. Six thought it was weird and creepy how everyone suddenly thought she was a "good girl," considering she was in this mess for breaking the law and being caught too many times.

As weird as it was, the girls enjoyed it, because who wouldn't enjoy puppies? Unfortunately, it came to a screeching halt when a chocolate lab got a little brave and licked Twelves crotch while she was fetching a ball on all fours.

The three now found themselves on a mailgirl mat outside the front entrance to animal sciences. Well, Eight and Twelve were on the mat, Six was kneeling on the floor facing them, since the mats were barely big enough for two girls to fit.

"So, like, having a chocolate lab lick your pussy, even just like one and a half times is enough karma in my book," Eight said to Twelve. "I still don't like, like you, but I can at least be kind of civil now."

"Yeah, that was weird to watch, for sure. It didn't change how I felt about you, we're all in this together and you're one of us," Six giggled, "and I can't say I blame the dog for trying, honestly."

Twelve blushed bright red, "Thank you. I'm flattered."

"Well, anyway, how are you two doing? That first call was not at all typical of standard mailgirl runs, that's why I haven't gotten a chance to do any real instructing yet. I can try to answer any questions you do have while we have a couple of minutes between runs."

"What's with the way you talked to Mistress and that security lady and all the 'this mailgirl' this and that?" Eight asked.

"That's just the way we're supposed to talk. We're scum. Point blank, nobody is lower on the totem pole, Mistress and the execs spent all last week hammering that into the original six, heavily. I've never been spanked, beaten, slapped around, and talked down to that much in my life. We're subordinate to everyone, submissives who aren't supposed to think, or take initiative, or any of the stuff you were encouraged to do in your previous job. As a mailgirl you do what you're told, when you're told, and how you're told, no matter what. No matter how humiliating or degrading it is, and as you'll see, it will be. All you worry about is your next pickup or delivery and doing it on time.

"You have to talk like that, in the third person, 'this mailgirl,' and degrade yourself. Mistress Nul gave me 50 paddles on Tuesday because I said, 'I'll do better' instead of 'this mailgirl will do better.' Employees are instructed to slap us across the face for using our name, or responding to anything besides our number, mailgirl, mailroom girl, girl, mailgirl number whatever.... It's always our fault, no matter what, so just accept it. Take responsibility for being late with a canned response about being stupid and slow.

"Or get more demerits. Twenty-five demerits, and you will get twenty-five, probably every couple of days, maybe even every day sometimes, because the deck is stacked against us, and Mistress Nul punishes you. Employees can do whatever as long is it's not sexual or causes actual physical harm to us, and they can give you demerits just because. They don't need a reason. Wednesday, I got ten of them from one exec just because I'm a mailgirl and she thinks that makes me a slut and some kind of gender traitor. That put me over and I got whipped by Mistress for the second time that day, and the third in two days. And demerits carry. I have twenty, so I expect all three of us to get punished by end of day," Six sighed, as the MMUs went off, "I'm sorry for the ramble. It's almost time for our lunch; we should start for the locker room."

Although all six of the original girls took first and second break together, Mistress Nul split their lunch break into two groups, three at a time. Going forward the breaks would all be split into groups of six; half the girls on one and half the next. As usual a girl wouldn't know which group until her MMU pinged to alert her. They were the last group.

Mailgirl #12 was face deep in another bowl of disgusting "Mailgirl Chow." It was a product of the food lab and supposedly had been scientifically formulated to offer all the nutrients the mailgirls needed to do their job at peak performance. She thought it might just be repackaged dog food, but she really hoped not. One can for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and a half a can during each break for a snack. Bowl licked clean, no hands or utensils, eaten off a bowl on the floor.

Jillian could not believe this was her reality now. Mailgirl Six popped up from her bowl, finished, while Jillian was halfway through. It wasn't appetizing and she was gagging.

"I know it's gross, but you have to finish. If not, you'll get punished. Trust me." She turned to both Jillian and Evelyne, who were equally struggling to eat lunch. Mailgirl Three hopped over, chipper as usual.

"It's really bad, but you'll be kind of used to it by next week," Three encouraged, "It tastes a little less gross if you get the shredded chicken one too, this pate salmon is especially gross but it's what they gave us today."

"Really? I didn't even know they had different flavors, I can't taste a difference," Six wiped her mouth with her hand and licked the gravy off her fingers. "It's all glorified dog food to me, but at least me and Four don't have to cook or buy food."

After her charges were done with their meal, Six took them to the showers with her. She'd been showing Jillian and Evelyne the routine she went through and giving them tips on how to get ready during lunch. Evelyne was just staring at the "windows" which were just mirrors on this side.

"You'll get used to that too. It's nicer not knowing WHO'S watching, only that nameless, faceless people are. And yes, they absolutely can see everything." Six turned her shower on.

"Yeah, just this morning I saw Six here masturbating to I think three orgasms? Right under your shower head, Evelyne." Smack! Six's hand impacted Jillian's cheek so hard she almost started to cry; it stung.

"No! She's Eight, you're Twelve. I'm Six. No names, or you'll get slapped until your face is raw, by everyone. Mailgirls, employees, execs, Mistress. Trust me, even outside of work, numbers. And even in your head, you're your number. It prevents slip ups."

Twelve rubbed her cheek, "I'm sorry, you're right."

Eight looked horrified. She turned to Twelve, "Wait Six did what?!"

Clearly this girl hadn't paid much attention to the mailgirls this past week. Six sighed, "Yeah um, it was three according to my MMU and the app," she blushed. "Look both of you, this is a sexually frustrating job. We're running around naked, turned on and wet as hell.... And don't lie to me, you've both smelled like sweat and pussy since we left first break. You're going to get to a point where you just have to, and as soon as you get back to this locker room, you're going to. You're not going to care that all those people out there can see. You'll be ashamed, don't get me wrong, but you're going to do it despite that and not care about being watched. All six of us OG's have masturbated at least once, and I'm pretty sure Twelve here saw Three and myself have full on girl on girl in this very shower on Friday before we left. It's a matter of when, not if. You'll probably both pop that cherry this week, if stats hold."

"She's right, I saw it all. Her and Three, plus every single one of them masturbate. It's not only allowed, it's encouraged, and it happens. But only in here, it's not allowed anywhere else," Twelve backed Six up.

Six turned the showers off, "We got to get going, come on." And led Twelve and the other girl to the sinks. "Deodorant, makeup touch up, and perfume."

Twelve grabbed a stick of the communal deodorant and hesitated. She still wasn't used to using all the same products as the other girls. Everything smelled like cherry blossoms.

"Use extra, and a lot of perfume. It helps hide the arousal and sweat smell, trust me," Six said as she touched up her makeup.

Twelve cringed but slathered on the deodorant. Then she coated herself in the cherry blossom perfume. She watched Eight do the same. They both did quick touchups on the makeup as Six sprayed a cloud of perfume on herself.

"Now," the seasoned mailgirl turned to her trainees, "use the bathroom. While we don't need a chaperone. Then line up for inspection. Numerical order, knees, until Mistress orders you to toes."

All three went over to the toilets, visible from the outside, although they were blocked by the only wall that wasn't mirror glass. Twelve knew everyone could still watch them go. She couldn't bring herself to actually pee, even though she kind of had to a little, it just wouldn't come. The three got up and went to line up.

Mistress Nul got up from her desk and approached. "Six, I knew you wouldn't let me down. I was just getting up to call it. Very good girl," she pet Six's head, who clearly wasn't thrilled by being pet like a dog.

Twelve went into knees next to Mailgirl Eight. Three, Four, Six, Eight, and Twelve were all kneeling in a row.

"Mailgirl Three, front and center!"

Three hopped to her feet at Mistress Nul's command. She shuffled forward towards her dominatrix of a supervisor.

"Mailgirl Three, those ten demerits you got in finance puts at thirty demerits... to the bench for your punishment."

The little Asian girl visibly stiffened as she scurried to the spanking bench next to Mistress Nul's desk. Twelve thought she was beautiful, petite but average height, beautiful black hair, perfect teeth, perfectly symmetrical face, and big brown doe eyes. She could see why the equally beautiful, but far less exotic Six, had fucked this goddess in the shower.

Three leaned over the bench, bracing for what was coming. Mistress Nul picked up a wooden paddle from her tools hanging from the side of the desk.

"Three. Six strokes. Count along."

"Yes Mistress."

Mistress Nul lined up the girl's left ass cheek and swung.

*Smack*

"One! Thank you, Mistress."

*Smack*

"Two. Thank you, Mistress."

*Smack*

"Three. Thank you, Mistress."

Mistress switched to her right ass cheek. Twelve cringed every time the paddle struck, but Three barely flinched, taking it like a champ.

*Smack*

"Four! Thank you, Mistress."

*Smack*

"Five! Thank you, Mistress."

*Smack*

"Six! Thank you, Mistress."

"Good. You're done. Go back in line."

"Yes Mistress, thank you for keeping this mailgirl in line."

She scurried over and took her place in the line, in knees position. Mistress approached Twelve.

"Twelve, toes."

Twelve got up and on her toes, clasping her hands behind her head. Mistress Nul did a quick, cursory inspection of her "uniform."

"Very good Twelve. Six is teaching you well," Mistress Nul patted Twelve on the cheek, "now knees."

Twelve went back to her knees position and Mistress moved over to Eight. She gave her the same basic inspection after ordering her to toes.

"I see Six is making a good girl out of you too. Knees."

"Toes Six."

Six stood up next and got the same look over.

"You're a good girl. Now knees."

Three and Four got the same treatment, and the girls were off to the floor again. Twelve was getting tired, this had been a long, rough, mentally draining day and it was somehow only half over. She'd started off dressed smartly in a nice blazer, dress, and pumps, a badass HR recruiter. Before lunch she'd been stripped naked and was now the lowest possible position within the same company; A submissive, naked courier, being trained by a girl who she'd stripped naked and put in this same position just last week. A girl that seemed oddly well adjusted for being in this position for a week. Twelve didn't think she'd make it to Friday.

"Are you okay?"

She looked to Eight next to her. Another girl she'd stripped naked and put in this deranged position, just this morning. The MMUs pinged.

"Not really..."

"We gotta go," she was interrupted by Six. "Level 12C, follow me ladies!"

Six shot up eight flights like it was nothing. Eight lagged a bit behind but was still keeping up relatively well. Twelve was falling behind. She wouldn't leave a fellow mailgirl behind though, so she waited and instructed Three to do the same. They would be late, so they inch closer to 25.

"I'm sorry," Twelve whined, "I'm trying my best, I swear."

"I know you are. You probably didn't do much running up stairs in HR or Human Capital, heck today might be the first time you're taking stairs at all, at least this much."

She held her hand out to pull Twelve up the last few stairs, "I got you, it's okay. I have both of your backs, no matter what."

She whipped Twelve's hair out of her face. Then put one hand on each girl's shoulder.

"We're not late yet, but we're going to be. Let's try and keep it under five demerits, okay. If we don't...... we're punished together. Now let's go."

She dashed through the door, to the office they were looking for. She approached the secretary's desk outside and went to feet. Her MMU buzzed.

"You're late!"

"Yes ma'am, this mailgirl apologizes she was late. This mailgirl was too stupid and slow to get here on time."

The clock was still ticking and would continue until they entered the office. The MMU continued to buzz signaling they were late. Six was praying this lady let them in soon, but she also knew better. Some secretaries loved harassing the mailgirls and making them rack up demerits. It was a sick game they played as revenge for the girls betraying women in their minds. Or jealousy that they weren't mailgirl material, possibly. This girl was the right age, but short and overweight, so definitely not a future mailgirl, at least not the immediate future.

"Ma'am this mailgirl is here to do her job, ma'am. May this mailgirl please enter the office so she can perform her duties?"

The secretary glared at her. She was going to milk this.

"Toes! All three of you!"

All three girls stood on their tip toes and put hands behind their head, arching their back, tits out, and stared straight ahead. The secretary proceeded to scan each of their exposed bodies meticulously.

"I have to make sure you're properly uniformed, first. I wouldn't want Mr. Parker to have to see you sluts all disheveled and dirty, now, would I?"

Six had lost count of how many times their MMUs buzzed by this point. All three would be getting at least six lashes, maybe a dozen at this point. Who knew.

"Twelve, your hair is a bit messy. I'll let it go, but next time you come to see Mr. Parker with messy hair, or any other part of your uniform not perfect, I'm sending you back to the locker room to fix yourself. Clear?"

Twelve visibly stiffened. The MMUs still buzzed.

"Yes ma'am, this mailgirl understands clearly."

"Understands what? This mailgirl understands what?"

"This mailgirl understands that she'll have to go back to the locker room and clean up if she shows up in a messy uniform again. Ma'am."

"Fine, go in."

Six went back to her heels and scurried into the office, Eight and Twelve behind. Once inside and away from the bitchy secretary's game of nitpicking Twelve's uniform, they stood in feet for a surprisingly young man, maybe late 30's, who clearly spent a lot of his time away from work in the gym.

"You're late. Abnormally late.... I'll have to have to have a talk with Cindy about holding the mailgirls up. I'm sorry she likes messing with you girls, but it's getting in the way, so it has to stop."

"Sir," Six obediently chimed, "never to a mailgirl, sir. These mailgirls were late because they were too stupid and slow to get here on time.

"Right," the man rolled his eyes, "this is all new to me too, I forgot. Anyway, I need you to take this to HR for me. And quickly, they were expecting it five minutes ago."

He handed Six a plastic tube. Oh, another one of these stupid things, why can't we use digital messages like the 22 nd century intended?!

She took the tube from him and put it in her mouth, before scurrying out of the office door. HR was close enough they'd have to take the stairs. And apparently Mr. Parker's definition of "quickly" was different than most, because he gave them plenty of time, they wouldn't even have to sprint. She moved quickly though, better to be ahead just in case they got held up for some reason. The girls hurried down the stairs.

"Hey can we slow down, I'm struggling?" Twelve was looking quite uncomfortable.

"No," Six mumbled through the tube in her mouth, them popped it out, "we need to save as much time as we can, we can be held up, as you just saw."

She popped the tube back in her mouth, she probably looked ridiculous to her trainees. Twelve confirmed.

"Yeah true.... also, you look like a silly retriever like that. It's cute!"

Six glared at her. She was tired of being treated like a damn dog. They kept moving and soon enough were kneeling in front of an HR secretary.

"Oh, another silly letter from Mr. Parker.... I can take that. Mrs. Parker had to step out for a moment. It's not actually important anyway."

So, they had been delivering some love letter to Mr. Parker's wife... What a use of company resources, idiots.

Mrs. Parker's secretary took the plastic tube out of her mouth and tapped her MMU to dismiss her on time. She led the other two girls out and headed for the stairwell so they could have some privacy.

"Just checking in, how we doing?"

"I'm tired and I have to pee, but I can't with an audience, so it hasn't come out yet."

She looked at Twelve, alarmed.

"Twelve you need to go! There's a bathroom right here, let's go."

She grabbed Twelve by the hand and pulled her into the ladies room in HR. It was empty besides the three nude women.

"You have to leave the stall door open but go, hurry."

"I don't think I can..."

"Look Twelve, it's either this or the locker room. And you'll have more privacy here. Me and Eight are going to go into our own stalls and pee too, and there's nobody here to actually watch you. Just look down and you'll be fine."

She was right, Twelve nodded. So, the three all took separate, adjoining stalls. Six, unfortunately had a small bladder, so had to go a lot more than she'd like to, even before all this mailgirl stuff. She tried not to drink too much and seemed to have found a decent balance between staying hydrated enough to get by but not having to pee constantly. She heard tinkling on both sides as she started to herself. Once done all three exited at the same time, just as a fully clothed woman walked in, trying her best to ignore the naked mailgirls as she dipped into a stall. They washed their hands quickly, finishing just as the MMUs pinged for their next assignment.

After two or three more assignments, Twelve and the others had their last break. No punishment, but according to Six, Mistress usually doesn't do punishments this time of day. She likes to wait until before they leave for the shuttle or saves it for the morning, if nobody else hits twenty-five or gives her another reason to punish them. Half a can of chow each, quick rinse, hair/makeup touchup, potty whether you have to or not, kneel in order. Masturbate if you have to or want somewhere in there as usual. Twelve didn't do the last part, she wasn't there yet, as aroused as she was.

After break they had two assignments between then and leaving. Six said it slows down just about at last break, since most employees leave around that time. Eight asked a lot of questions, most of which she either should know already, or Six flat out didn't know the answer to. The poor girl was definitely naïve, and she detected Six's "big sister act" that day had been a response to the younger girl. It's kind of what the dark skinned mailgirl needed, so Six was leaning into that part of her personality.

After 7 PM the girls met in the locker room, which suspiciously had no lockers in order to shower, eat, whatever they wanted before meeting the shuttle back to their homes on Andromeda Station, and have Mistress remove their collars. She'd tried to scrub the "12" off her hips and left breast but had little luck. Six and Four both said it wasn't worth the effort, they'd just be replaced in the morning by Mistress Nul. They were shipped back across space in dog crates, to Jillian's horror.

Now Jillian, Mailgirl Twelve, was in a small room near the docking bay, staring at a small cubby assigned to her. It held the clothes Davidson took from her, minus the panties she'd been wearing that morning. No surprise, he'd collected those from all the girls, although she wasn't sure exactly what, he told her he had a plan for them. Mailgirl Six approached her, still naked as she was all day, technically more since she was no longer wearing her collar and MMU.

"Contemplating whether or not to get dressed? I do that too, it almost seems like it'd be easier to just stay naked. So, how we doing after our first day?"

"Okay, I guess, she sighed, "I just want to go home, but you're right, I feel like maybe staying naked is better."

"Well, unfortunately, we can't do that. It's still frowned on outside of Aurora. But Four and I usually spend our time at home naked, unless we have a visitor who's not also naked. Do you have a roommate or anyone you're going home to?"

No, she lived alone, not even a dog or cat. She sighed, "No I don't."

"Oh. That's.... are you okay being alone? After our first day, Four and I leaned on each other a lot."

"I'll be fine."

"Okay. My advice? Don't do anything but crawl into bed. Masturbate and then cry yourself to sleep like we did our first day. Also let me see your phone," she handed Six her phone who added her number to her contacts, "Here's my number. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

After that, everyone got dressed and started dispersing. Six and Four left together, as did Two and Nine. The latter were obviously together, while the former looked more like close friends. Jillian... Twelve was jealous, especially of Four, for some reason.

Once home she did exactly what Six said. Took her clothes off, crawled into bed, masturbated, and then bawled into her pillow until she fell asleep....