Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿Mailgirls On The Run by eltree

   Chapter 5

   Megan drove back to her condo after walking Five back to the Mailgirls'
Locker Room, leaving her to the none-too-tender mercy of Mistress V.  Three
not-all-out 6ks in the past twenty-four hours shouldn't have done her in,
but it was hot and challenging Mistress V on the behalf of One and Five had
been tense.  She was looking forward to iced tea, a shower, and then
collapsing  -" perhaps not in that order.

   While laying on her couch with NPR playing in the background Megan
decided to call Brendan.  Getting her mind off of naked women would be a
good thing.  She googled "Howard County Striders" to look at the schedule
of local races and saw they were holding a "Meet of Miles" at one of the
local high schools  -" that seemed like a nice, normal topic to call
Brendan about.  Feeling sufficient re-hydrated she went to her wine
refrigerator and pulled out an Albarino, a little Spanish courage would
help.  Pouring herself a glass, she laid back down and called Brendan.

   "Megan, this is a pleasant surprise.  How have you been?"

   And despite her best intentions she responded, "Getting sucked back into
the world of naked women.  Oh, my God, did I just say that?"

   "Well, I heard 'world of naked women' so if that's what you said..."

   "Look, you know that Sarah and I were mailgirls at SG&T, right?"

   "I know about Sarah, and I thought you probably were as well.  You're
certainly attractive enough to be recruited.  Neither Sam, nor Sarah, has
said anything much about mailgirls and I haven't prodded them.  I did some
web searches and read the rather bland mission statement from SG&T and of
course, there are thousands of photos and videos posted on social media. 
The scenery at Fort Meade is far less attractive."

   "I ran the Corporate Challenge last year two months after putting
clothes back on and returning to my job as a financial analyst.  The fifth
floor is competitive in all things and they want to do well in this year's
race, especially since we're hosting it.  They've transferred in some men
from other locations, but based on my performance last year some bright
soul thinks they can field a squad of mailgirls in the women's race.  And
I've been officially assigned to help coach and select the team.

   "Community Relations dropped this on me on Wednesday, Thursday I met
with Human Capital  -" those are the folks who manage the Mailgirls Program
 -" and Friday I returned to the Mailgirls Locker Room to sell this to
twenty-four naked women.  We ran three 6k trials, one Saturday morning, the
other two this morning splitting the women into three heats all of which I
paced.  This being a Mailgirls activity the last finisher in each trial and
the six slowest overall are all promised a beating of which Mistress V
administered two following the first and second trials.  One woman dnf'd
with a sprained ankle and the last finishers in both the first and third
trials were obviously suffering some degree of heat exhaustion so I screwed
my courage to the sticking point and shepherded those three away from
Mistress V to the Med Center.  Tomorrow morning Mistress V will deliver six
strokes to the asses of the four women who escaped immediate chastisement.

   "And I don't know why I'm telling you this except I have to vent to
someone."

   "Who's Mistress V?"

   "She's the direct Mailgirls supervisor.  She was a mailgirl that SG&T
imported from a German program.  She has her own apartment in the basement
and wears clothing, but is trapped like the other twenty-four.  She makes
up the work schedules and cracks the whip and paddle and crop to keep the
others in line.  Having spent two years under her thumb, I amazed myself
when I pried Eight and One and Five away from her to the safety of the Med
Center.  I nearly wet my pants just thinking of it."

   "Why tell me, why not Sam or Sarah or some other friend or family
member? And why haven't you followed Sarah's lead and left SG&T?"

   "My younger sister Samantha graduated from college last year and
promptly signed on as a mailgirl at SG&T.  My dad hasn't talked to me since
he found out that I was a mailgirl and my mom blames me for Samantha's
decision.  So, I'm stuck there keeping a sisterly eye on Mailgirl
Twenty-two while trying to rebuild my life.  And no, I did not encourage
her  -" I was horrified when she was delivered to SG&T two months before
the end of my contract.

   "I couldn't dump on Sarah or Sam; she's moved on and I'm happy for the
both of them.  Becoming a mailgirl is a seismic event  -" my friends from
school, college, work in Chicago mostly recoiled in shock, horror,
embarrassment and I haven't renewed any of those ties in the past year,
none of them are geographically close, anyway.  I need to move on, but it's
been hard and tossing me back into the Mailgirl Program, even though I'm
wearing clothes now, is not what I need."

   "Why did you do it?  Become a mailgirl, that is."

   "I had just transferred from the Chicago office, eager to be part of
SG&T's new East Coast headquarters.  I was proud of my work in Chicago and
saw this as a step up with new challenges.  I was right about the new
challenges.  When I reported in that first day they sent me up to Human
Capital where I was offered the choice of a dead end job in Marketing at
less than half of what I had been making in Chicago or to be a mailgirl
with a slight rise in salary plus a signing bonus and a completion bonus.
They told me this was a ninety-day pilot program and there was no guarantee
that it would continue on.  The completion bonus was only applicable if the
program was picked up for the full two years.  I would be on call 24/7, but
the contract included housing and meals.  I was also guaranteed a slot as a
financial analyst at the end of my mailgirl contract with another boost in
pay.  They didn't emphasize the financial penalties for breaching the
contract, but I read those carefully and they are punitive.  I called my
old boss in Chicago and she urged me to take the position  -" consider it a
gap year with a big financial payoff, she said.  And so I signed.

   "The six of us in the pilot program were flown business class to the
West Coast for off-site training at Dumpster Dawg Enterprises.  After six
weeks of hard physical training to build stamina and non-stop humiliation
to beat down any self esteem we were returned air freight and introduced to
Mistress V and our living quarters in the basement of the SG&T building. 
The fitting out of the Mailgirls suite in the basement told us all this was
no ninety-day pilot.  Then ensued two years of non-stop debasement, cold
showers, awful food, minimal intellectual stimulation.

   "On the up-side, I paid off my student loans, maxed out my 401K, and
upon return to the real world paid cash for my new car and put down a hefty
down-payment on my condo.  Financially, I've never been better off, well at
least until I start paying for the therapy I undoubtedly need."

   "How are you doing at work now?"

   "Except for this new task my assignments have been challenging and
professionally fulfilling.  My boss has been nothing but positive and has
supported me fully.  On the other hand the people that I work with have all
seen me running around in the nude, being forced to abase myself in any
encounter, and had numerous opportunities to watch me bending over a padded
bar to be paddled or caned to work off excess demerits.  The new people
have all seen photographs and videos of my life as a mailgirl.  Many of
them believe that I essentially whored myself to get my current position.
Spending the next three months working closely with mailgirls will do
nothing but reinforce that image.  Still I feel that I need to do it to
protect those women as much as possible; the ex-mailgirls on staff have a
bit of latitude to treat mailgirls with some compassion."

   "How many ex-mailgirls still work at SG&T?"

   "Eleven women have completed the two year contract, three of us work in
Maryland, one transferred to San Francisco, three left SG&T, and four
signed on for another two years as a mailgirl.  Five more contracts run out
two months from now.  The original twelve mailgirls were all recruited from
the professional ranks at SG&T; the current twenty-four are a mixture of
sometime professionals, a few admin types, and a number of women who
applied to be mailgirls, including my sister."

   "This is a long way from the personnel practices of the Department of
Defense."

   "And my original reason to call was to ask you about the Meet of Miles
on Wednesday.  What is it?"

   "The Striders mostly put on road races from five to 26 kilometers.  At
the Meet of Miles they just run a series of mile races on the track,
splitting the entries into reasonable size heats based on projected times.
It's a more manageable distance in a Maryland summer and gives everyone a
chance to run a classic distance."

   "Do I enter on-line?"

   "Just show up Wednesday and plunk down your $2.  We have everything from
twelve plus minute milers to a few high school and college types inside
4:30.  Only the high schoolers train for the mile so the rest of us are
faking it; we can do the distance, but speed kills."

   "If I can escape from work Wednesday afternoon, I'll give it a go."

   "I hope to see you there."



   Chapter 6

   Megan drove into work early Monday morning.  Aside from her mailgirl
days the only previous times she'd been at SG&T at this hour was when they
worked the night through  -" doing deals overseas didn't always fit in a
9-5 schedule.  She didn't know when Mistress V had scheduled her punishment
parade and Megan felt she needed to be there in support of Eight, Five,
Eighteen, and Twenty-one.  Seven had run fourteen seconds quicker than
Twenty-one providing a clear margin between those who escaped the paddle
and the to be red-bottomed six.

   Megan walked through the glass doors into the upper lobby and stepped to
the side while she brought up the Mailgirl App on her Android phone.  She
only had access to the Mailgirl database from the internal network which
was not accessible over the Internet.  There were individuals who could
access the Mailgirl database by connecting to a VPN  -" Sarah's Sam had
been given an Iphone with that capability after their meeting at the
Juniper Resort, but its access had been revoked at the end of Sarah's
mailgirl contract.  She brought up the daily calendar and saw the
punishment was scheduled for 10:30 a.m.  in the courtyard off the employee
dining room.  One, Five, Eight, and Eighteen were indeed on the list and
clicking on the thumbnail photos next to each number brought up a photo of
the mailgirl crossing the finish line, obviously exhausted and drenched in
sweat.  The photo of Eight showed her in full limp, being supported by
Megan whose shorts and running top were plastered to her body and left
little to the imagination.  She knew she didn't want to emphasize her
association with mailgirls, this whole project was a bad idea for so many
reasons.

   There were, as always, a number of men having their morning coffee and
pastries while sitting at the tables overlooking the lower lobby and the
Mailgirl Locker Room.  This SG&T coffee shop did much better breakfast
business than at any other SG&T location.  Megan knew this for a fact since
she'd been tasked with reviewing the financials of SG&T's food service
programs system-wide: coffee shops, dining rooms, vending machines.  SG&T
Maryland's vending machines did mediocre business; the coffee shop in the
lobby, the employee dining room, the executive dining rooms outperformed
all other locations.  Part of this was due to the suburban location  -"
there were a vast array of food choices within easy walking distance of
both the Chicago and San Francisco sites.  Mostly she ascribed it to the
floor show, both executives and worker bees ate at a significantly rate
on-site than at the other locations and fewer still ate at their desk. 
Virtually all visiting clients to SG&T Maryland were wined and dined
on-site; as a mailgirl Megan, that is Mailgirl Two that was, had delivered
countless messages to client luncheons and dinners and spent more than a
few evenings serving at soirees when table service replaced the normal
cafeteria style presentation.  Megan hadn't thought so much about the
gallery when she made her first visit to the Mailgirls Locker room on
Friday, she could feel their eyes burning into her back as she descended
the stairs and entered this morning.

   She could see the usual morning prep going on on the other side of the
glass walls, mirrored on the inside.  They weren't all out yet, some
mailgirls were still out of sight in the Mailgirls Lounge or Dormitory. 
Sinks, showers, toilets, beauty supplies were all in the Locker Room and
they had to be properly groomed when Mistress V made her appearance; still
some mailgirls preferred to wait as long as possible.  Megan never
understood that  -" what's an extra five to ten minutes of exposure in a
twelve to fourteen hour day.

   "Ladies, what do you want me to take back to Ms Barnes today?  They're
not going to give up on this scheme, but what can we do to make it better?"

   Seventeen, a sultry brunette with a truly outstanding pair of breasts,
said, "I need support up here.  Twenty-one spent hours Sunday afternoon
kissing them better, but longer runs are going to kill me."

   There was a general cry of support for more support.

   "I'll try to make them understand.  Ms Barnes, at least, should
appreciate that issue."

   Two asked, "Why the whole trials thing?  Why not just ask for volunteers
and offer some time off for training, or maybe some better food?"

   "I can't argue except Management doesn't ask mailgirls anything,
mailgirls only obey.  Plus, I expect someone is getting his rocks off on
the whole coercive aspect of all this and then extra asses to beat..."

   Thirteen said, "My contract is up on 19 September and then I'm out of
here.  So what do I care about a race in October?  I understand you ran
last year as a regular employee, but I'm on a flight to Miami on the 20th
and I am not coming back."

   "I will ask that question, but never underestimate the likelihood of
Human Capital screwing you over.  If you want to make that flight, make
sure that you don't make the team.  Seven of us have finished out our
mailgirl contracts and moved on so they have been willing to honor the two
year commitment.  There is one mailgirl alumna who is a lawyer and now on
the outside so they're will be an advocate if they try to change the rules;
still it's Human Capital."

   "There were small rocks on the path and along the road.  That's not good
with bare feet."

   "Agreed, and it's not in their interest to get anyone hurt.  I will
impress upon Ms Barnes that the course needs to be thoroughly swept, but
then I have this vision of mailgirl chain gangs with brooms."

   Suddenly there was no more noise from the mailgirls and Megan knew that
Mistress V had arrived.  She turned and said, "Good morning.  I was asking
how the runs went this weekend in preparation for my meeting with Ms Barnes
and Mr Starnes."

   She turned back to face the mailgirls and said, "Thank you for your time
ladies.  I will let you know what happens in today's meeting."

   Mistress V hissed, "you do not thank mailgirls, they are here to serve
without question."

   Megan just looked at her and then exited through the door, not allowing
herself to tremble until she was on the other side of the mirrored glass.

   * * * * *

   Megan brought up her calendar as soon as she made it to her desk and
logged in.  She had a pending meeting with Ms Barnes in Human Capital at
noon.  Well, that meant lunch would be provided, probably delivered via
mailgirl.  She clicked the accept button, not that she had much choice. 
Otherwise the day was clear to work on actual financial projects and do
real work affecting SG&T's bottom line.  She set an alarm on her computer
for 10:15 which would give her time to make a cup of tea and then make her
way to the employee dining room to witness the four mailgirls being
punished.

   Deep into reviewing a proposed project seeking SG&T financing and/or
investment, Megan was brought up short by her computer insistently buzzing
at her.  She poured a cupful of water into her kettle and set it to boil,
then measured out a spoonful of loose tea into the silver plated caddy and
set it in her mug waiting for the water.  The dining hall just provided hot
water out of an urn  -" she didn't mind the selection of tea bags, but the
water was never hot enough to make proper tea.  After giving her tea five
minutes to steep, Megan headed for the employees dining room.

   There looked to be quite a crowd considering that the grill hadn't even
opened.  All heads were turned to the courtyard.  Eight came darting past
Megan, then stopped, uncertain how to get through the crowd to the
courtyard.  Mailgirls could not ask for anyone to make way for them and any
delay in deliveries due to employee clogged aisles or other issues was, of
course, not a mitigating circumstance.  Megan looked at her and said,
"Follow me, Maria."

   Megan pushed her way through the crowd of men, feeling Eight right on
her heels, and finally made it to the exit door which the mailgirl went
through even as her MMU flashed red indicating that she was late for her
"delivery." Five, Eighteen, and Twenty-one were on the grass before
Mistress V who was holding both paddle and cane.  Mistress V looked at
Eight and said "Knees" and the mailgirl sank to the ground next to five
with knees spread, ankles together, and head lowered.

   Mistress V said "Twenty-one" and the mailgirl rose and walked over to
what looked like a vaulting horse without the handles and draped herself
over it, ass-high.

   "Count" and Mistress V crashed the paddle down onto the mailgirl's left
ass-cheek.

   "One" and the paddle smacked down onto the right ass-cheek followed by
"Two."

   Mistress V delivered six swats alternating cheeks and then said "Stay.

   "Eighteen." The Latino woman gracefully rose to her feet and moved over
to the horse, bending over it next to her fellow.  Mistress V repeated the
punishment and then ordered "Inspection".  The two mailgirls rose from the
horse and moved to the side where they went up onto their toes and laced
their hands behind their heads, displaying their asses to the crowd in the
dining room.

   "Five." The chunky redhead rose and went to the horse, needing to rise
up onto her toes to lean properly over the bar.  Mistress V exchanged her
paddle for the cane and delivered six quick strokes across the plump behind
leaving a pattern of parallel lines on the upturned ass.

   Megan could hear someone pronounce with relish, "That must have hurt."

   Mistress V gestured, "Eight."

   The last mailgirl bent over the horse next to Five and Mistress V added
"an extra six for tardiness."

   That elicited a murmur of anticipation from the onlookers.  Megan felt
ill, twelve strokes with the cane by Mistress V was a trial.

   Mistress V moved from side to side etching a cross-hatched pattern onto
Eight's taut buttocks.  Eight started crying out with the ninth stroke, but
held position through the end.

   Mistress V said "Five minutes." The she gestured to the two mailgirls
standing on their tiptoes and said "Back to work." Eighteen and Twenty-one
dropped down onto their feet, then swiped their MMUs to indicate they were
again available for deliveries and left the courtyard heading for a mat
near the service stairs where they would await a summons for their next
task.

   The crowd in the dining hall started to disperse, some employees going
back to their desks, others settling down on seats with a view of the two
mailgirls still on display.  Megan had started forward when Eight began to
cry out, but knew that she couldn't interfere and finally turned and left.

   * * * * *

   Twenty-two had just completed a delivery to the fourth floor when her
MMU buzzed for her next assignment.  She read "Dining room pick-up for
Human Capital." Mostly her destinations were given by floor and grid
number, but the system listed some locations just by name.  The dining room
was just one flight down, then into the center.  She hoped the order was
just for Ms Barnes at her desk rather than a group getting briefed on
mailgirls.  Carting a large order  -" not that there was a cart involved 
-" up two flights and to the back end of the building and then there was
the whole zoo animal feeling of corporate types observing mailgirls in
captivity.  It might be okay if it was a petting zoo, but in Human Capital
the only petting would be with paddle or crop.

   There was a small box labeled "Human Capital" waiting for her when she
got to the counter in the Dining Room.  Twenty-two then had to wait for one
of the women behind the counter to tap her smart phone to confirm the
pick-up which started the timer again for the trip back upstairs to Human
Capital.  The box wasn't heavy, but it did take two hands which would slow
her down opening the doors to both enter and exit the service stairs.  She
also had to take care to carry the box at the proper height as she could be
give a demerit by any passing employee if she unnecessarily blocked the
view of either her breasts or pussy.  That demerit was a given if she was
careless within the Human Capital suite.

   Twenty-two carried the box up to the front desk in Human Capital and Ms
Bradley, one of the admins, told her, "Into Ms Barnes' office, set it up on
the table."

   Twenty-two put the box down on the small conference table which had
three chairs set around it.  She recognized the mailgirls' mat on the floor
against the wall.  When she had stripped down in her first day at SG&T Ms
Barnes had her kneel down on that mat and wait to be taken away.  Six weeks
later after her training at DDE she had been back on the mat, but this time
had needed no instruction to assume the proper "Knees" position and had
waited with Twenty-one at her side until Mistress V came to take them down
to the Mailgirls Locker Room.  She wondered if she would be spending some
time on that mat today.

   She opened the box which contained a selection of sandwiches, a large
bag of premium potato chips, a platter and a large bowl for the sandwiches
and chips, respectively, three small plates, two metal dog dishes, a can of
Mailgirl Chow, and a bottle of water.  So, she would be attending the
meeting, almost certainly on the mat against the wall.  Twenty-two placed
the platter and bowl and small plates in the middle of the table, dumping
the chips into the bowl and arranging the sandwiches around the platter. 
She placed the two dog dishes in front of the mailgirls' mat and opening
the can let the chow slide into one of the dishes.  It was the shredded
stuff in gravy  -" well, that was better than the patÃ(C) which came out in
a lump which left no good way of eating it without utensils or the use of
hands, neither of which were authorized for mailgirls.  She rinsed out the
can with some of the water, pouring it over the shredded stuff, and then
poured the rest of the water into the other dish.  Human Capital claimed
that Mailgirl Chow was a perfectly balanced meal and judging by the
generally excellent health of the mailgirls at SG&T, that was probably
correct.  Balanced yes, healthy yes, but unappetizing and messy to eat. 
Twenty-two put the empty can and bottle into the box and sat it in the
corner, then gracefully dropped onto the mat and waited.

   Ms Barnes and the man who had been timing the run on Sunday entered the
office together chatting companionably.  Ms Barnes said, "Oh, good.  Lunch
is here.  We have coffee in the office or I can send Twenty-two here off to
the vending machines for a soft drink."

   "Coffee is good."

   Ms Barnes walked to her desk and pressed the intercom, "Miss Bradley,
can you bring us a coffee  -" black, I believe  -"" Mr Starnes nodded,
"Yes, black." Ms Barnes opened the small refrigerator behind her desk and
pulled out a bottle of water.  "Now, we just need our team leader..."

   The door opened again and Megan entered, coming up short when she saw
her sister kneeling on the mat.  She was carrying a mug, tea Twenty-two
surmised.

   Ms Barnes said, "Shall we all take a seat around the table.  Miss
Bradley will be bringing in coffee for Mr Starnes.  Can I have her get you
anything, Megan?"

   "No, I'll just stick with my tea."

   "Well then, let's get down to business and do grab a sandwich and some
chips.  How do you think the girls ran this weekend?"

   Mr Starnes replied, "The times were respectable, but not exceptional. 
Still, it was a first effort, none of them are acclimated to the heat and I
don't believe any of them saw any need to try and beat Megan.  Three and
Four both stayed with her and didn't look particularly stressed.  This
project may actually work."

   Megan added, "Overall, they ran better than I expected, especially
considering the heat.  And that is a consideration.  The race is in October
and while it could be unseasonably warm, it's likely to be a good deal
cooler and we're selecting a team in mid-summer.  There may be someone well
back in the pack in July who doesn't handle the heat well who might run
very well indeed in better running weather."

   Mr Starnes nodded, "That's true, but this is the time line that we have
and I think having the time to do some specific training will be more
important than waiting to make the best possible selection.  I don't see
either management or the mailgirls looking favorably on having all
twenty-four of them taking the time to do the training."

   Megan said, "Another thing  -" most of those women need support for
their breasts.  I know they walk/run all over the building naked, but those
short bursts are different than 35-45 minutes of running.  I know there is
some soreness today and the only answer for that is support."

   Ms Barnes responded, "I realize that and I've made that point to the
fifth floor and Mr Dawlish is giving it his personal attention.  He's been
looking through lingerie catalogs and websites and has ordered a number of
samples: open cup bras, balconette bras, some downright fetish wear that
look to provide support with a minimum of coverage, and who knows what
else. He expects to have a selection on hand for this coming weekend to see
what actually works with minimal disruption to the mailgirl uniform."

   Mr Starnes chimed in, "My understanding is that he has thrown himself
into this aspect of the project."

   Megan had nothing to say about this revelation.

   Megan continued, "And another question was raised: the race is in
October and the contracts of Mailgirls Thirteen through Eighteen will be
coming to an end in September.  Is there a reason those six women are
taking part in these trials?"

   Ms Barnes again responded, "We expect some of those girls to stay on at
SG&T.  Eight of the eleven girls who have already completed their contracts
still work for SG&T, four as mailgirls.  Based on those numbers we lose
only two of the six.

   Mr Starnes interjected, "I think the fifth floor has visions of an all
mailgirls running squad, present company excepted, but if Fourteen or
Fifteen, for example, make the team I can't see dropping them just because
they're wearing clothing and back to work as professionals in October."

   Ms Barnes said, "We don't have anyone specifically in the pipeline to
replace any losses in September, but I've identified some candidates now
training at DDE who have running experience.  I've also got my contact at
DDE looking into mailgirls at other institutions who are on re-assignable
contracts and fit the profile.  While you will continue to work with the
twenty-four girls we have now, there is a possibility that we bring in
someone new."

   Megan stammered, "How many mailgirls have re-assignable contracts?"

   "Our original twelve mailgirls were all in-house hires and were bound to
SG&T.  Starting with the third cohort we did some direct hires, like
Twenty-two here, and all of those girls have re-assignable contracts.  We
could even trade one of those six mailgirls for a mailgirl that runs; we
have nearly three months to pull that off."

   Megan blanched, "Oh, my god, that would be inhuman."

   "No, it's just business.  The trading deadline for major league baseball
is coming up and we will see even higher priced talent get shipped across
the country though most of them will fly first class.

   "When Mistress V makes out the weekend work schedule I'll see the two of
you get it and you can divide up the girls again for the next set of runs.
Thank you very much, I believe, we've made some progress."

   Twenty-two had been kneeling quietly in the corner eating her Mailgirl
Chow and mostly using the water dish to try and clean off her face.  After
lunch she would return to the Mailgirl Locker Room to shower and otherwise
clean up for her afternoon duty.  She had been keeping an eye on her sister
and saw that the mention of re-assignable contracts had floored her.  She
thought if she got traded elsewhere then Megan wouldn't have the excuse of
needing to watch over her to stay at SG&T.  It was good that Megan have
something new to worry about.

   Ms Barnes concluded, "I believe we've made a good start.  We'll do
another review after the second round of runs this coming weekend."

   Megan added, "One of the women mentioned that the course needs to be
thoroughly swept.  When I step on a bit of gravel in my running shoes I
barely notice it; it can be very painful with bare feet and even cause an
injury that will stop a runner."

   Mr Starnes chimed in, "That's a good point.  I'll talk to the
landscaping contractor to see what we can do.  I'll see you Saturday
morning for round two."

   Megan and Mr Starnes both stood up and left, Mr Starnes politely bowing
Megan out first, leaving Ms Barnes and Twenty-two behind in the office.

   "You can box up the remaining sandwiches and chips and take them down to
the Mailgirls Lounge for later.  Drop the crockery off at the dining room
on your way.  That will be all."

   Twenty-two rose and cleaned off the table, then picked up the two dishes
on the floor, and left carrying the box knowing that she would report the
meeting to the other mailgirls that evening.  She decided that she would
talk to Ten first.  Ten was a second term mailgirl who had originally be
co-opted from Human Resources and in some ways played Mother to the newer,
younger mailgirls helping them understand their place at SG&T in a less
brutal fashion than Mistress V.  Also, as an HR professional, Ten could
likely provide a better understanding of re-assignable contracts and
trading and recruiting mailgirls.  She had undoubtedly read and understood
her mailgirl contract better than Twenty-two who had never made it through
all the fine print and whereases.

   Megan made it back to her desk and then just logged off her computer and
locked up.  She never left early and often worked long hours, not uncommon
behavior in the Investment Group and indeed many of the other divisions,
but today she was out of here.  My God, 're-assignable contracts' and while
Ms Barnes didn't mention it the folks in Human Capital had been assigned
Power of Attorney for each of the mailgirls under the terms of their
contracts and Megan guessed that they could just unilaterally extend a
mailgirl contract.  She would have to talk to Sarah about that thought;
Sarah was an attorney.

   * * * * *

   Megan called Sarah as soon as she got home and got voicemail as Sarah
hadn't left work early.  "Sarah, this is Megan.  Please call me this
evening, the subject is mailgirls." Then she did what she always did when
faced with an intractable problem, she changed into running attire and went
over to the fitness center and ran.

   * * * * *

   Twenty-two dropped off the dishes at the dining room and then made a
fleeting visit to the Mailgirls Lounge to drop of the box of leftovers, not
that a few sandwiches and a half bag of chips would go far between
twenty-four mailgirls.  From there it was out to the Locker Room where she
showered and tidied herself up for her afternoon shift, playing to the
unseen crowd behind the mirrored walls.  It really was more fun with a
partner.  Twenty-two wasn't a lesbian, but she did enjoy teasing her
audience whether she could see them or not.  If she didn't cross paths with
Ten sometime during her shift she would talk to her in the Lounge in the
evening assuming neither was selected for late night duties.

   It was just past five and Twenty-two was kneeling on the mat by the
receptionist for Branch Services when another mailgirl dropped into
position next to her.  "I hear that you're looking for me" Ten said
pitching her voice to be barely audible even to Twenty-two just at her
side. Mailgirls were not permitted to initiate conversations while on duty,
well except to request an escort to the restroom.

   "I was in Ms Barnes' office when they talked about the running.  When
Megan asked about the mailgirls whose contracts would be up in September,
Ms Barnes said they have been inquiring at DDE about mailgirls with a
running background who had re-assignable contracts and raised the
possibility of a trade just like they do in baseball.  She said six of our
mailgirls, including me, have re-assignable contracts and could be traded
for a runner."

   "Well, you might want to run a little faster next weekend.  Before
lights out you can fill us in on the rest of the meeting and I'll see if
anyone in HR will talk about mailgirl trades."

   Twenty-two's MMU chimed, alerting her to a new delivery, and she dashed
off with a quick "Thank you" to Ten.

   * * * * *

   Megan was warming up left-over Chinese when Sarah returned her call. 
"You want to talk about mailgirls, I'd hoped it was Brendan."

   "I'll get to him, but first it's mailgirls and my sister."

   "What's she done now?"

   "It's all to do with the Corporate Challenge.  We ran the first set of
trials this past weekend and they did much better than I expected.  Factor
in the heat and the times look even better, especially since you know none
of them was really interested in pushing themselves  -" what would it gain
them.  We had half a dozen run 6k inside 23:30  -" that may mean something
to your Sam  -" which projects to about a 40 minute 10k which may even mean
something to you.  I wound up taking three of them down to Susan Allen in
the Med Center: one sprained ankle and two for heat exhaustion.

   "Today, we met to review where we stand.  I pointed out that running
naked is one thing, but most of those women really could use a running bra.
Ms Barnes agreed and said that Mr Dawlish has been pouring over lingerie
catalogs looking for something that provides support without concealment 
-" even she seemed to regard his interest as on the pervy side.  She said
he's express ordered some samples that should be here in time the trials
this weekend.  Oh, and the course runs into the parkland on the edge of the
parking lot and picks up the road that comes into the back end of campus.
We startled a few drivers each time past and brought a whole line of
bicycles to a halt on the third run.  Security is providing a trailing car
to keep an eye on things."

   Sarah giggled at the bicycles.  "So, what's the problem?  we always knew
the fifth floor had a salacious interest in mailgirls."

   "Well, I also pointed out that there are a half dozen mailgirl contracts
expiring between now and the race.  Ms Barnes responded that they've been
talking to DDE about replacements with a running background and then
mentioned re-assignable contracts.  There are also half a dozen mailgirls
including my Sam that could be traded for a mailgirl with a track
background.  Also, since SG&T holds power of attorney for the mailgirls
couldn't they just unilaterally extend someone's contract?  Ms Barnes
didn't mention that possibility."

   "I don't think they'd want to do that.  That could definitely spark a
law suit and would not play well in public.  I could see them offering a
one month extension with an additional bonus if there was someone they
particularly wanted to keep.  Were there any in that group that stood out?"

   "Both Fourteen and Fifteen ran sub 23:30  -" you remember Fourteen, the
ex-wife of a lawyer?"

   "Good for her.  She could use something to boost her self image.  And
what about your Sam?"

   "She ran 23:26 and was running faster before she realized that she
wanted to finish in the middle of the pack.  Ms Barnes had her kneeling on
the mat during the race review today so she heard about re-assignable
contracts.  Ms Barnes likened it to trading baseball players."

   "Will you follow Sam if Ms Barnes ships her off?"

   "I think Ms Barnes was just trying to keep me in line.  I was surprised
she didn't dress me down for taking the three women to the Med Center, but
she didn't say a word about that."

   "Every now and then she does something that makes me believe she might
care about mailgirls as people; she did well by Sam and me.  You're the
only one who got hurt in the whole Holiday gig and that was the crazy lady
at the Juniper Resort."

   "I seem to attract them.  It turns out that Mr Starne's ex-wife was my
boss in Chicago and he strongly implied that she shipped me to Maryland
with malice aforethought."

   "And what about Brendan?"

   "I called him Sunday and just unloaded on him, not at him, I just
freaked out to him about the whole mailgirl thing.  Then I told him that
I'd meet up with him at a Howard County race on Wednesday and we left it
there."

   "You go, girl.  Don't run too fast."

   * * * * *

   It was a typical Monday.  Twenty-two had just made a delivery to the
fifth floor when her MMU chimed to let her know that she was off duty.  Her
MMU started counting down from three minutes  -" while she was off the
clock, so to speak, she still had to make it to the Mailgirl Locker Room
within the specified time to avoid racking up yet another demerit.  She'd
been on duty for just shy of twelve hours, eight hours at minimum wage,
three hours at time and a half.  Lunch and dinner from a dish on the floor
in the employee dining room and her post-lunch shower and grooming were
considered personal time and not paid.  She made it to the Locker Room with
twenty-three seconds to spare, there being less human traffic to dodge in
the evening, and took her third shower of the day, skipping the show for
the unseen watchers at this hour.  She did give a last wave before
disappearing into the Mailgirls Lounge.

   The Lounge was unique in the mailgirls world in that it was behind a
wall and out of sight.  There were surveillance cameras that covered the
entire space, but only the folks in Security had access to the video feed
and everybody knew the nerds in IT had hacked into it.  Unless there were
visitors the mailgirls could behave pretty much normally for worlds that
consisted of twenty-four naked women and no furniture.  They could even
pick up food with their hands while eating.

   The was one piece of furniture in the Lounge  -" a low spanking bench
complete with leather straps for when Mistress V didn't bother to haul a
recalcitrant mailgirl out to the Locker Room for punishment.  Mailgirls
were not allowed to sit or lie on it unless it was being used for its
intended purpose.  Twenty-two had been strapped to it more than once when a
quorum of mailgirls decided that she had misbehaved.  It was also an SG&T
tradition that a new girl spent her first night strapped to the bench while
the rest of the mailgirls had their way with her until lights out and then
lay covered in her own and others juices until morning.  This practice
dated back to the hiring of the third group of mailgirls  -" the four
mailgirls that had renewed their contracts had also been welcomed back into
the fold.  Ms Barnes visit to the Lounge to announce to the mailgirls that
there would be no recriminations for their appropriate use of the spanking
bench due to heartfelt pleas from both Security and IT had occurred before
Twenty-two's first day; she was told the story while strapped to the bench
for her initiation.

   Two walls comprised the Mailgirls Dormitory, thirty 4' x 4' niches, each
5' deep and covered by metal grilles that locked into place at lights out.
There were a half dozen networked computers that allowed mailgirls
restricted access to the outside world, all set on low pedestals since the
mailgirls sat in front of the monitors in lotus position.  There was an
emergency exit door which opened to a tunnel that popped out in the parking
lot  -" the mailgirls were familiar with that exit since the local fire
department insisted on quarterly unannounced fire drills and emergency
evacuations which were monitored by that local fire department.  The
mailgirls were always impressed by the number of firefighters on hand to
watch twenty-four naked women emerging from that tunnel when the fire alarm
was sounded, invariably in the middle of the night.

   Twenty-two entered the Lounge and saw that most of the mailgirls were
present.  Ten saw her and gave a loud whistle to get everyone's attention.
"Twenty-two has an update on the running."

   "I made a lunch run to Human Capital today where Ms Barnes, my sister,
and the suit that timed us yesterday met about the running project.  Both
Megan and Mr Starnes said they were impressed with the results.  Megan did
raise the problem of bouncing boobs and Ms Barnes said that Mr Dawlish had
taken that on as his personal project and was ordering samples from various
catalogs which sounded as pervy then as it does now.  When asked about the
mailgirls whose contracts are up between now and October, Ms Barnes said
she expected some of those mailgirls to stay at SG&T.  Plus she has talked
to DDE about hiring some mailgirls with a running background.  She has also
talked to DDE about mailgirls at other firms with re-assignable contracts
that they might be able to trade for, mentioning that there are six of us
that could be traded."

   Ten chimed in, "I've got some friends in HR quietly checking into
mailgirl trading.  I'm sure that anyone shipped elsewhere would still have
their contract honored as to duration and the financial arrangements, but
programs do differ in how we are treated and that's in a gray area.  And if
it's ambiguous, it won't be to our advantage."

   Fourteen mused, "My contract is up in September, but that will be too
late for me to start classes in the fall semester and I haven't made any
decision as to what I'll be doing until the next semester starts in
February."

   "I walk the day my contract expires," said Seventeen.

   Twenty-three said, "Maybe it's the Mailgirls Abroad program for me  -"
do they have mailgirls in Kenya?"

   Nineteen put in, "I'm holding out for England."

   "We're mailgirls, we just do what we're told.  It's more likely that any
trade would be to the West Coast since that's where most of the US programs
are located, but it won't be our choice.  We've heard from Fourteen and
Seventeen, how about the other four of you  -" anyone planning to re-up?"

   Thirteen shook her head; Fifteen said, "I've been promised a lead
analyst position in Chicago;" Sixteen looked down and whispered, "I don't
know."

   Eighteen's mouth dropped open.  "are you crazy?"

   "Maybe.  But Marketing isn't calling to me and I just don't know where I
want to be.  Ten, what is going to happen; does Human Capital email us a
new contract offer?"

   "I got summoned to Human Capital about a month before my contract was up
and met with Ms Barnes and my old boss from HR.  We had a career
development session  -" with me on my knees, of course.  I had been so
looking forward to the end of my contract; and then I signed up again.  I'm
still not sure why.  I do know being a mailgirl is like being a
professional athlete  -" it's a short career and then you're dropped into
the real world.  I just wasn't ready to return, so I panicked and went with
the week's holiday, the re-signing bonus, and another two years of naked."



   Chapter 7

   Megan was back to her usual extended day on Tuesday, but got herself out
the door nearly on time Wednesday.  She carried her running bag into the
office that morning knowing that it would be more efficient to change at
work and drive straight to the race.  She knew she could change in the
locker room at the Fitness Center at the end of the day.  Then she found
herself rushing through the research on her current financial project and
realized that changing at work wasn't going to happen.  She still wasn't
ready to strip down again at SG&T even in the safety of the women's locker
room.  Megan logged out of her workstation, locked up her desk, and headed
out carrying her running bag.

   A quick stop at her condo later, she was back onto Rt 29 mired in its
usual rush hour crawl.  She thought she'd left herself plenty of time, but
with the traffic.  Well, maybe it would be better to arrive just in time to
sign up and run and skip all the pre-race socializing.  She was an
attractive, unattached woman and would almost certainly draw attention from
the unattached men at the race.  Meeting up with Brendan would just bring
his friends over to check her out.  Maybe she should just stop at a KFC or
Panera's and pick up carryout.

   She was concentrating on her GPS, trying to negotiate the maze of
Columbia's streets when her phone rang.  She tapped the button on the dash
to answer and Brendan said, "Megan, are you coming to the Meet of Miles
today?"

   "My GPS says I'm just a ¼ mile and four turns away."

   "Great, I'll meet you in the parking lot."

   Megan turned into the high school parking lot and saw Brendan standing
under a tree.  She was surprised to realize how happy she was to see him
there.  She parked and walked over to join him.  Brendan reached out and
drew her into a hug, Megan stiffened, then relaxed and enjoyed the contact.
"So, where do I sign up?"

   Brendan led her through a crowd of people, not a bare breast or naked
ass in sight, but plenty of skin on display with many men opting to go
shirtless and women wearing crop tops.  Megan was wearing a sleeveless top
with no mid-rift gap.  "If you want to run in a pack sign up for the the
heat that you figure you belong in; if you want to win sign up for the next
slower heat.  You wouldn't be alone."

   Megan looked at the sign-up sheets on the table and put her name down on
"sub 6 minutes".

   Brendan said, "Planning to impress the locals, are you?"

   "I ran three 6ks over the weekend in just over 23 minutes each which
works out to 6:15 mile pace if I have my math right, so I ought to be able
to duck inside six for a single mile.  It's been a few years since I
stepped on a track so we see how it goes.  Shall we jog a bit to warm up?"

   "They'll run the races fast to slow and the sub-five heat will go off in
about fifteen minutes and then it will be you.  I'm signed up for the fast
heat where I'll get dusted by the high school and college hot shots, so
I'll cheer you on if I'm not laid out on the track after I run."

   Megan and Brendan ran an easy couple of laps around the track, weaving
their way through slower runners.  Then it was time for the first race.

   Brendan and about fifteen others, including two women, lined up along an
arc about ten yards from the finish line, well 9.3 meters if Megan
remembered the conversion correctly.  As Brendan predicted a couple of
young men dashed out into the lead with the rest of the field strung out
behind them.  An older man looking at his wrist called out "sixty-one,
sixty-two" as they led through the first lap.  Brendan came through at
"sixty-nine" just in front of the first woman.  The two youngsters led
through the second lap "two eleven" with Brendan still leading the first
woman.  A slightly older man, probably a college runner Megan thought,
moved into the lead just before the final lap "three twenty-four" and
Brendan had pulled ahead of the first woman who had been caught by the
other woman in the race.  The college boy finished in "four thirty-two",
Brendan was back in the pack at "four forty-seven", and the first woman
came across in "four fifty-four."

   "You looked good Brendan, how do you feel?"

   "Gutted at the moment" he grunted.  "But, it will wear off.  They'll be
calling you to the line in another few minutes.  Good luck."

   Megan's heat was larger than the first, but still only with two women.
She avoided the jostling to get onto the front line and stood patiently
behind.  When the starter cried "Go" everyone sprang forward and Megan went
with them running a bit extra on the outside, but avoiding the even more
active jostling in lane one.  She moved up easily on the back straight
before tucking into the inside heading into the second turn trailing a
half-dozen men and boys.  She heard "seventy-eight" as she crossed the
finish line for the first time.  She heard Brendan cheering "Looking good,
Megan" as she started down the back straight again.  She was fourth when
she finished lap two to "two thirty-five." It felt good to stride out fully
and she flashed past Brendan again as she moved into third.  Megan was in
second with a lap to go "three fifty-four." She launched into a full sprint
coming out of the final curve, but couldn't close on the leader.  The timer
called out "five o-one" and then "five o-seven" as Megan crossed the line.

   Brendan caught her two steps past the finish, "Let's keep walking. 
We'll go over and get a cup of water.  Good job."

   Megan grimaced, "Just call me Number Two." and then giggled.  "Sarah was
Mailgirl Five and I was "Mailgirl Two.  I still think of myself as Two as
times.  I was Megan for my first twenty plus years, but I was Two for a
very intense two years."

   Brendan walked her over to the water jugs while a number of other
runners called out, "Great run ...  terrific race ...  looked really good."
Brendan introduced her to a number of the other runners while the other
races were going on and Megan wound up jogging easy laps of the adjoining
field with the two women from the first race as a cool-down.  She begged
off an invite to join some of the others at Clydes, gave Brendan a quick
kiss on the cheek, and made her way out to her car and then home.  Maybe
next time she would stay and socialize.

   * * * *

   Twenty-two got summoned to the Fifth Floor late Thursday afternoon.  She
met up with One, Eleven, and Seventeen heading in the same direction. 
Eleven looked at the other three and whispered, "Any bets that we're going
model bras for Dawlish?  Do you think this will be a private showing or
will there be a quorum of pervs?"

   Mr Dawlish's secretary, a no-nonsense woman in her 50s, looked up as the
quartet of mailgirls approached.  "He's ready for you."

   Seventeen opened the door and the mailgirls filed in to find Mr Dawlish
seated behind his desk puffing on a cigar with Megan and Mr Starnes seated
before him.

   "Took you four long enough.  Okay, who's 38D."

   "Mailgirl One's measurement is 38D, sir."

   "Well, come over here and let me fit you with this bra.  I don't see why
you need it, you've been running around this building without one for the
last two years."

   Megan interjected, "As busy as we keep mailgirls, sir, they're rarely in
motion for more than eight to nine minutes at a stretch and often that is
at a walking pace.  That's far difference than running steadily for forty
minutes or more."

   "I thought these were supposed to be fast women, why else are we doing
this?"

   Mr Starnes chimed in, "Forty minutes is a respectable time for a woman
to run 10k and in training for the race they will be running farther and
slower, but still at a pace that will lead to uncomfortable bouncing
around. Large breasts are considered an attribute for mailgirls, we don't
have waif-like models running the halls."

   Mr Dawlish picked up what looked like a handful of green straps and
shook them out.  "The catalog says this is a cage bra."

   One reached out to take the bra from him, but he said "No, I'll put it
on you and then adjust it as necessary.  Put your arms through the straps.
Now turn around and I'll fasten the clasp." There were straps nestling
under her breasts, with other straps radiating out from her nipples, the
whole effect framing, not covering her breasts.  "Now turn again and let me
get these straps settled properly." Mr Dawlish was tugging the straps
across One's breasts, getting plenty of hand on breast action.  "Okay, you
can take your position.  Knees."

   Megan thought the bra was very attractive, in an up-market tart style 
-" she wasn't sure how much support it would provide while running.

   "36C."

   "Mailgirl Twenty-two's measurement is 36C, sir." Twenty-two stood up and
walked to Mr Dawlish.

   "This is an open cup bra, it might work for you flatter girls."

   Twenty-two's breasts were framed by the frilly straps, with nothing at
all covering the breasts.  Megan couldn't see the point of this bra at all.

   "Forty DD." This was Eleven, she got a "Fran Bra" which was the open cup
bra plus sheer fabric stretched in a diagonal across the outer half of
Eleven's breasts bisecting her aureoles.  This looked most promising to
Megan.

   "Forty G." Seventeen got an out and out piece of fetish lingerie, Mr
Dawlish called it a "Bondage Bra." Heavy leather straps came over her
shoulders and cinched the base of her breasts.  Her nipples were covered by
a leather disk that attached to the circling strap with thin cords.  Megan
decided it would certainly provide support, but looked uncomfortable from
the get-go and when that leather became soaked with sweat, she thought
Seventeen's focus would be on her breasts and not her running.

   Then Mr Dawlish said "Thirty-four B" and looked at Megan.

   "Sir, I am not a mailgirl.  I will be running in normal athletic kit
with a sports bra underneath."

   "Well, I won't force the issue now, but take this bra and report back on
how well it works for you." He held out a small handful of light blue
fabric and Megan reluctantly took it from him.

   "Now, we're all going to the Fitness Center where you girls can run on
the treadmills and we'll see how well the bras work for you.  Go, go."

   The four mailgirls rose and headed out the door for the service stairs
and the Fitness Center on the first floor.  Megan walked out to the
elevator with Mr Dawlish and Mr Starnes.  Normally she used the stairs, but
she needed to distance herself from the mailgirls with Dawlish.  She
detoured past her desk to drop off the bra and then caught up with the men
at the Fitness Center.

   "Oh, that should be worth a bundle of demerits." Megan recognized an
obnoxious trader from the fourth floor.

   "Mailgirl Number One was directed to wear this bra by Mr Dawlish as part
of the team selection for the Corporate Challenge."

   "You're all still out of uniform and I'm assessing you each demerits for
that.  You don't have to take them off yet, but the demerits stand."

   "Mailgirl Seventeen apologizes for being out of uniform and thanks you
for your concern."

   The trader tapped furiously at his smartphone and each of the mailgirl's
MMUs pinged with each demerit.

   Mr Dawlish broke in, "Okay, girls onto the treadmills and let's see how
those titties bounce."

   One and Twenty-two's breast bounced pretty unrestrained  -" all of the
men paying close attention to the action.  The "Fran Bra" did a better job
of controlling Eleven's 40 DDS; Megan thought that bra might prove
reasonably helpful for the less well endowed.  Seventeen drew the most
attention with her large breasts being held by the Bondage Bra; Megan
predicted that it would chafe more and more as the leather absorbed the
sweat from Seventeen.  For a short run on the treadmill in the air
conditioned Fitness Center it might work out, but 8 kilometers in the
summer heat this weekend would be another story.

   Mr Dawlish asked, "How long should we have them run?"

   Mr Starnes responded, "At least twenty minutes" and Megan nodded.

   "Well, I guess we'll just enjoy the floor show."

   * * * *

   "Is there a method as to whether you freak out to me or Brendan?"

   "Bitching about Dawlish's pervy bra choices is definitely a wail to
Sarah.  He called four mailgirls up to his office at the end of the day,
plus Mr Starnes and me.  He then proceeded to fit sample bras onto the
mailgirls, plenty of Dawlish hand to mailgirl breast contact.  The first
two bras were open cup, the green number he wrapped around One was quite
attractive in a boudoir setting  -" I'm not sure how much support it gave.
Both One and Twenty-two bounced freely while running on the treadmill
testing out the bra.  Eleven got an nearly as attractive sheer bra that
covered the outer half of her breasts and did provide some measure of
control.  Seventeen, she of the 40 G bust, got a leather bra straight out
of a bondage flick which looked to provide considerable support, but I
expected that it chafed something awful and would be much worse as the
leather straps soaked up her sweat.  Then there was the bra that he handed
me."

   "What?  Did you tell him that you're not a mailgirl?"

   "Yes, and he said that he wouldn't force the issue at this time."

   "I think it's time you started floating your resume.  You need to be out
of there."

   "Well, it is a truly lovely bra.  It covers the middle third of my
breast and actually does provide enough support for me  -" I ran for thirty
minutes on the treadmill downstairs to check it out.  It doesn't have quite
the wow factor of the green bra that One tested, but either would be good
if I did get serious about Brendan or someone else.

   "I'll check in with the four mailgirls tomorrow morning to get their
reports on bra testing.  I'm interested to see in what they're wearing this
weekend."

   * * * *

   Megan could have gone in early to catch the mailgirls in the Mailgirls'
Locker Room, but decided that she could just call them in via the Mailgirl
App.  Normally an analyst at her level wasn't gifted with the chits needed
to require special services beyond such mundane matters as expedited
delivery.  Her allotment had been bumped up after being assigned to this
project so she could request a specific mailgirl report to her.  She also
pulled up the lineups for this weekend's heats.  Eleven was running
Saturday morning, the other three bra testers were in the first heat on
Sunday.  Megan reserved a small conference room for noon and ordered a
sandwich platter and bottled water and four mailgirls.

   Mr Bratz stopped by her desk and asked, "Do I need to be brought in on
why you've reserved a conference room today?"

   "No, it's nothing to do with my real job.  It has to do with the
Mailgirls Running Team project so I'll be talking to four of the mailgirls
about Mr Dawlish's new idea."

   "I'm sure I don't want to know, but you and four mailgirls is liable to
cause some speculation.  You might want to leave the door open."

   "I'm planning on a closed door meeting, but for confidentiality, not
carnal reasons."

   "You do good work Megan.  I'm glad to have you back on my team.  Just
let me know if you need anything."

   "Thank you, sir."

   * * * *

   Megan had just shoved the conference table to the side of the room when
Seventeen arrived carrying a box from the dining hall.

   "You can just put the box down and then put the platter and water on the
table.  I've also called for One, Eleven, and Twenty-two.  We'll shut the
door when they all get here.  It will just be the five of us."

   "You're quite hungry today."

   "Keep it up and I'll order a can of Mailgirl Chow and a bowl just for
you."

   "Mailgirl Seventeen would like to know how your bra worked for you while
running."

   "It did an adequate job of controlling my bouncing breasts, but I doubt
that it would be up to managing yours or Eleven's."

   "I think old Dawlish would have liked to have you on the treadmills
along with the rest of us, in correct mailgirl uniform, of course."

   "In his dreams and I'm planning to keep that scenario just in his
dreams."

   One and Eleven arrived and Megan said, "Now we're just waiting for
Twenty-two.  Another demerit for her."

   When Twenty-two, still Samantha in Megan's mind, came through the door,
Megan told her to close it and then told Seventeen to pass out sandwiches
and water.  "You can eat and drink normally, but I'm afraid my flouting of
protocol doesn't extend to telling you that you can sit on the table or
chairs.  But, sit however you wish to and tell me how the great bra testing
went."

   One said, "Great looking bra, no support whatsoever."

   "I told Sarah, Five that was, that I could see wearing that bra for
seduction, but running, no."

   Twenty-two chimed in, "The open cup number that Mr Dawlish gave me
didn't do the job aesthetically or athletically."

   Eleven reported, "The bra I wore might have done a decent job for you
flat-chested types.  My nipples kept rubbing against the fabric which made
it hard to focus on the running until they rubbed enough to go from
horniness to some abrasion."

   Megan said, "The normal fix for that is Vaseline; even some men grease
up their nipples for marathons to keep them from running against their
singlets."

   "The bondage number Dawlish wished on me worked quite well actually,
except that nipple shield rubbed as well." added Seventeen.  "Dawlish
called me up to his office this morning and handed that bra back to me, but
with a hole cut in the middle of the nipple shield and then walked me down
to the fitness center and had me run another thirty minutes on the
treadmill.  He told Ms Barnes he had his eye on another bra as well which
he thought might also work with suitable alternations."

   Megan responded, "I still think a longer run in the heat could make the
leather uncomfortably stiff and cause significant chafing.  Keep reporting
on how well these bras work for you and I'll keep reminding Dawlish that
this project is about winning the Corporate Challenge 10k, not getting his
rocks off."



   Chapter 8

   Megan was back to SG&T by 6:30 Saturday morning, ready to run.  There
were many more cars in the parking lot than there had been the previous
weekend.  It seemed the running of the mailgirls was worth getting up for.
There were a couple of tables set up near the finish line and a few men
filling cups of water at placing them on the tables.  Mr Starnes was
standing by the tables and Megan saw Tad with his bike off to the side. 
Megan walked over to talk to Starnes.

   He looked at her appreciatively and asked, "Are you wearing Dawlish's
bra?"

   She flushed and responded, "Yes.

   "My suggestion is that we run the 1k loop twice to start and then run
the 3k loop twice to finish up the 8k.  If we alternated we could have
lapping on the second 1k loop.  Based on last week's times that's an
unlikely scenario, but there's no compelling reason not to run it that
way."

   "Makes sense to me.  We have an impressive number of spectators for a
time trial.  The race in October will be the most watched road race in the
state."

   "I'm going in to get the women.  They should be out here by quarter of
to acclimate a bit and make sure that they're properly hydrated."

   Megan entered the SG&T building then down the stairs from which she
could see mailgirls milling around.  There was a larger collection of men
in the upstairs lobby than usual for a weekend morning.  Most men normally
opted for a lie in on Saturday since they'd already had five chances to
watch the floor show that week.  Megan could separate out her eight runners
from the eight mailgirls preparing for the Saturday morning shift.  The
runners were applying sunscreen to themselves and each other, some of them
clearly playing to the spectators above.  A thorough coating of their
breasts made sense, but really they needed to pay more attention to their
faces and arms rather than lavishing care on their inner thighs.  Nine was
doing a conscientious job of applying protection to Six's upthrust
buttocks.

   Mistress V met Megan at the door.  "Here, you can give this to Mailgirl
Eleven when she gets outside.  No clothing is permitted in the building."
Her demeanor clearly showed that she didn't approve of clothing for
mailgirls outside the building either.  "Let's go girls.  I will meet you
at the finish." She didn't add 'paddle in hand', but the subtext was clear.

   Mailgirls Three, Six, Nine, Eleven, Fifteen, Nineteen, Twenty-one, and
Twenty-four filed out of the locker room, up the stairs, and through the
lobby to the outside doors.  Megan reminded them to drink some water before
the run and to grab a cup or two mid-race.

   The nine women emerged into the bright sunshine, slowing as they saw the
crowd of men turned in their direction.  Megan handed Eleven her bra, the
other seven would run again without support.  Eleven made a show of putting
on the garment, then adjusting her breasts within the half cups.  Megan had
returned to the Investment Group before Eleven made her debut as a
mailgirl, but Megan could remember the shy, forever blushing petite Asian
with the incongruously large bust  -" that girl was long gone now.

   Men were crowding around the mailgirls offering them cups of water.  It
seemed to Megan there was a different tone to the interaction than the
taunting, overbearing, abusive treatment of the mailgirls in the workplace.
None of the mailgirls was assuming any of the positions  -" 'Knees',
'Feet', 'Toes'  -" that they were forced to in the offices and corridors of
SG&T.

   Mr Starnes called out "Five Minutes." and Megan shook herself back into
race mode.

   "Ladies, listen up.  We're running eight kilometers today, that's about
fifty yards less than five miles.  We'll run two laps around the parking
lots following the yellow line, then finish with the two laps we ran last
week  -" that's the blue line.  You'll have an opportunity to take water
every time we complete a lap  -" drink it or dump it over your head."

   Mr Starnes called the mailgirls to the starting line and then it was
"Ready, steady, go."

   Megan following Tad on his bike and led the parade of naked women twice
around the parking lot urged on by a cheering throng.  She grabbed a cup of
water and took a sip before splashing it onto the back of her neck.  Then
it was out of the parking lot onto the trail through the trees.  Turning
left onto the road she noted a patrol car off to her right, lights flashing
and a policeman standing by it watching the women run by.  The patrol car
at the end of the stretch of road was a state police car, that officer
gazed at them from under his wide brimmed hat behind the the inevitable
mirrored sunglasses.  Three was striding just on Megan's shoulder with
Fifteen just a few steps back.

   As she approached the water table one man stepped out and splashed a cup
of water onto her front.  Three was likewise heralded.  The two women still
grabbed cups off the table and sipped from them as they ran.

   Three pushed the pace through the trees and onto the road.  This lap
there were several cars pulled off to the side with men standing beside the
vehicles.  Some were holding up their cell phones, likely videoing the
women running past.  Three opened up her stride heading back towards the
SG&T building and the finish, triggering Megan's competitive fire and she
threw in a finishing kick crossing the line as Mr Starnes cried "Thirty
fifty-eight." She heard "Thirty-one o-one" to signal Three's arrival. 
Megan reached out and drew the staggering mailgirl into a hug to
appreciative whistles from the spectators.

   Fifteen was another dozen seconds back with the rest of the mailgirls
well strung out.  This race was not only longer than the previous weekend,
but Three had pushed Megan to a quicker pace.  Fifteen was sitting on the
curb trying to catch her breath with a trio of young men holding cups
standing around her.

   Twenty-one had straggled in last to be met at the finish line by
Mistress V.  "Ankles." The tall blonde, formerly a colleague of Jeremy's in
Community Relations, wearily bent over and grabbed her ankles presenting
her ass to Mistress V's paddle.

   "One...Two...Three...Four...Five...Six...thank you, Mistress." and then
fell to her knees.

   Megan and Tad moved over to the punished mailgirl.  "Are you okay?"

   "I can't stand."

   "Well, you can't stay here, kneeling on the asphalt.  That's going to
get very bad.  Tad, go get a couple of cups of water."

   The young man came back quickly with two cups of water.  "Okay, hold one
up to her lips and let her drink.  Once we get some liquid in her, you and
I will help her up.

   "Three, come over here."

   The slim brunette walked away from the cluster of men around her and
came over to where Megan was standing over Twenty-one.  Megan reached up to
Three's MMU and keyed in a destination.  "Okay, you're off to the Med
Center, bring back a chair for Twenty-one; then we'll roll her down to get
looked over."

   Three dashed away and Megan looked at Tad, "You're going to help me put
her in the chair and then wheel her to the Med Center.

   * * * *

   "Tad and I took Twenty-one down to the Med Center, but Susan wasn't on
duty this weekend so her reception there wasn't great.  The nurse on duty
checked her vitals, decided she wasn't critical and was ready to send her
to the Mailgirls' Locker Room.  I bitched about it, so she had Tad fill a
bowl with water and put it down on the floor and directed Twenty-one to lap
it up.  She then had Tad lay out a couple of mailgirl mats on the floor and
told Twenty-one to lay quietly, telling me that she'd keep her under
observation for an hour or two.  She all but pushed Tad and me out the
door. I'll check on Twenty-one in the morning.

   "On a lighter note, Tad was thrilled with so much direct contact with a
naked woman; I'm sure it made his day."

   Sarah gurgled, "And how did the race go?"

   "Three really pushed the pace, I never realized she was so competitive.
What with her taking off and the longer distance we were really strung out
on the final lap.  Fifteen wasn't far back, but there was a sizable gap
back to Nineteen and then three girls came in together with Twenty-four and
Twenty-one well back."

   "Well, Three did come out of Marketing, you've got to be competitive to
do well there.  And given the choice between Mailgirls and Marketing, I
could see sticking with being a mailgirl.  There's not much of a future in
either and being a mailgirl might be more honest and probably pays better
at SG&T.  How did the great bra experiment go?"

   "Eleven was the only one of the four who ran this morning and I didn't
take time to get a report from her.  The other three run tomorrow, so I'll
get the complete story then."

   "Did you wear your Mailgirls' Bra?"

   Megan flushed.  "Yes, and it didn't do a bad job supporting my boobs,
but I can tell you I wouldn't whip off my top ala Brandy Chastain wearing
that bra except maybe in the bedroom with a guy I wanted to seduce.  It's
thin enough that it should dry fine by tomorrow's first run."

   "Well good luck.  Sam and I are sleeping in  -" he's not racing this
weekend, so we can enjoy a leisurely brunch like normal people."

   * * * *

   Six-thirty Sunday morning Megan was back at SG&T descending the stairs
to the Mailgirls' Locker Room.  The crowd outside was even bigger than it
had been the day before.  The young professional, bar-hopping male staff of
SG&T had been telling friends about running mailgirls and the SG&T parking
lot looked like outside of Soldier Field before a Bears game except with a
notable lack of female fans.  Megan was predicting food trucks for the
third weekend.

   Four and Samantha were stretching on the other side of the mirrored
glass walls.  Twelve was at the water bowl, Ten was kneeling next to
Twenty-three.  Mistress V was stalking about, crop in hand.  The four
mailgirls on the Sunday morning shift were in the midst of their grooming
routine.  From the comments Megan overheard as she passed through the lobby
there was a sizable portion of non-SG&T employees patronizing the coffee
shop and enjoying the floor show.  She had also heard the whispers of SG&T
employees as she passed through outing her as an ex-mailgirl to their
friends.  Megan kept her head high and looked straight ahead as she made
her way to the locker room.

   Mistress V met her at the door and pointed to the small pile of fabric
sitting on one end of the near spanking bench.  "You'll take those out just
as you did yesterday.  Don't forget to retrieve them as soon as the run
concludes.  I'll bring the second group out in time to see the first eight
finish, none of them will be out of uniform."

   "Okay, ladies the run begins in twenty-five minutes.  We can go out now
or wait for another five to ten minutes."

   Mistress V hissed, "Mailgirls do not decide what to do; they leave now."

   Megan sighed and picked up the garments from the bench, noting the
alteration to Seventeen's bondage bra.  "Out the door and up the steps,
ladies.  One, Seventeen, Twenty-two, you'll stop on the steps outside the
entrance to put on your bras.  Let's go."

   Four led the way, followed by Twenty-three, Ten, Five, Twelve, Megan,
One, Seventeen, and Samantha.  There was cheering from the lobby above,
Megan bet herself that that was the non-SG&T contingent.  The nine women
walked through the lobby and then piled up in front of the front doors as
Four stopped short at the sight of the crowd in the parking lot.  "OMG."

   Megan responded, "That's one way to describe it.  Let's go outside,
ladies.  We have a race to run." She led the way outside.  "Everybody not
getting fitted for a bra go find the water table and make sure you've had
enough to drink, Twenty-two and Seven, here are your garments, help each
other put them on.  Eleven, I'll help you."

   Eleven settled the straps over her shoulders and adjusted the fit of the
leather circlets around the base of her generous breasts.  "When I get
these set right you can draw the chest strap snug and clip it in."

   Megan noted that while most of the crowd was focused on the five naked
mailgirls clustered around the water table, the bra fittings had drawn
their share of attention.  "Let's get some water, ladies and then another
ten minutes to race time."

   Mr Starnes was at the finish line and picked up a microphone.  "I would
like to remind you gentlemen that there will be no physical contact with
the mailgirls.  That is grounds for termination for SG&T employees and
possible charges of sexual assault for everyone." That brought a few boos
from the milling mob.  As had been the case the day before, few mailgirls
were holding cups of water, they were sipping at cups offered by eager men
surrounding them.

   Megan repeated her spiel, "Five minutes to go.  We're running eight
kilometers today.  That two laps around the parking lot following the
yellow line, then twice around the larger loop following the blue line just
as we did last week."

   Nine women toed the line with only Megan's toes shielded from view. 
After Mr Starnes "go" they started off at a relaxed pace following Tad on
his bicycle to the cheers of the onlookers.  Megan resolved to run
conservatively, Three had pushed her yesterday and she would likely have
less than fifteen minutes between runs today.  Four, Twelve, and Twenty-two
shared the lead through the two laps around the parking lot before
Twenty-two moved into the lead to start the third lap when the other two
mailgirls slowed to grab cups of water as did Megan.

   When they exited the path through the woods Megan was surprised to see a
solid line of cars parked along the road as they turned left.  There was
continuous cheering mixed in with a few calls indicating that Megan was
overdressed.  Four reeled in Twenty-two as they made the left turn back
towards the SG&T buildings; Megan settled in beside Twelve.  All four women
grabbed water this time past the finish line, Megan just dumping hers on
the back of her neck.  She knew that she would have to pace her drinking
with the second run looming before her.

   Four pulled ahead entering the path for the second time and Megan found
herself closing the distance on her sister.  "Just stride along with me,
Sam.  You're looking good." Twenty-two was working too hard to deliver her
usual sarcastic rejoinder.  Four finished about fifty yards clear of the
Brooks' sisters who crossed the line to a call of "Thirty-one eleven."
Megan turned to see Twelve finish as Starnes called out "Thirty-one,
twenty-three." Ten and Twenty-three were in sight, there was three more
mailgirls still to appear.

   The finishers were sharing the water table with the other eight
mailgirls with Mistress V glaring balefully at the entire scene. 
Twenty-two was not alone in enjoying the admiration of the non-SG&T
spectators who didn't have the whole 'Mailgirls are the lowest of the low'
meme drummed into them.  Mistress V delivered a quick swat across Four's
ass "Eyes down, mailgirl."

   Finally, Five came across the line to "Thirty-three seventeen."

   "Ankles." and the curvaceous redhead bent over proffering her ass.

   "One, thank you; two, thank you; three, thank you; four, thank you;
five, thank you; six, this Mailgirl thanks you for correcting me." The last
two lines came out in gasps of pain.  Even the men up close and personal
with mailgirls at the water table paused to watch.

   Mistress V said sharply "All mailgirls who have just run will return to
the Mailgirls' Locker Room, now.  Those of you out of uniform will hand
your garments to me before you enter the building.  The last one through
the door will receive a half-dozen in the Locker Room."

   Five women turned and headed for the building entrance, the other three
peeled off their bras and detoured past Mistress V, then dashed for the
door.  Eleven was the unlucky laggard.  There was a surge of spectators in
their wake hoping to get a good vantage point for the punishment session to
follow.

   Megan's rest interval was down to ten minutes as she made her way over
to grab a cup of water.  One good looking guy moved to intercept her and
asked, "Why are you wearing clothes?"

   Megan looked up at him and responded, "Because I'm a financial analyst,
not a mailgirl.  I spend my days investigating investment opportunities
rather than dashing between offices delivering messages and supplies.  I do
my running the old fashioned way, on the roads and trails."

   "You certainly are attractive enough to be a mailgirl.  Have you ever
thought about it?"

   "SG&T and I would rather put my four years of college and two of
graduate school to more profitable uses.  Thank you, but I'll keep my
clothes on in the office.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get this
next group of women ready to run." Megan was shaking with something between
deep humiliation and barely suppressed fury, but hoped that it didn't show.
She just needed to get this next run over with so that she could escape to
the safety of her condo.

   Tad handed her a cup of water and noted "Your sister ran really well
even if the two of you lost to Number Four."

   "Yes, Four did really well as did my sister and Twelve.  I have to do it
all over again in just" looking at her watch "seven minutes.  Thank you for
the water.  Are you up for another five miles?"

   Tad grinned, "Oh, yes.  I really need a rear view mirror on my bike, or
better yet a camera.  My buddies at Eagleton Prep are never going to
believe this."

   "I'm sure you'll be able to find videos on social media.  You'll just
have to find one that shows you leading the way."

   Mr Starnes called out, "Five minutes."

   Megan gave thanks that this weekend was cooler than the last.  She
wasn't sure that she could handle three fast 8km runs in 24 hours and
battle the heat, too.  Three 10kms next week would definitely be a
challenge.  The pool at her condo was calling.

   Megan repeated the course directions and with a minute to go the nine
women walked up to the start.  She looked over the field and decided this
was the weakest of the three heats; Fourteen had been the quickest of the
group the week before.

   They ran the two 1km loops at a leisurely pace, keeping the pack
together.  Two took the lead entering the first 3km loop because she proved
to be handiest at grabbing a cup of water on the run.  The would-be
professional dancer had a well toned body and Megan enjoyed the view from
behind as did the cheering spectators.  The crowd had picked favorites and
Sixteen, the tall, blonde ex-Marketing rep, seemed to garner the loudest
support.  The line of cars parked along the road now extended well beyond
the comparatively short stretch that the mailgirls ran and there was a
raucous crowd standing in the road at both the turn onto and off of the
road with a police car blocking the road at each end.  Megan was impressed
that the officers looked to keep their focus down the road in both
directions rather than turn their back to potential traffic to check out
the really real naked women.

   Fourteen came up on Megan's shoulder as they turned into the parking
lot. The older woman was breathing easily and looked strong.  She set out
in pursuit of Two while Megan just held onto her rhythm.  When they turned
to start the final lap Megan could see Sixteen and Thirteen striding along
together about thirty yards back.  Fourteen caught up to Two and Megan
watched the shorter black woman try to lengthen her stride to try to stay
with the taller brunette.  Megan kept telling herself "it's not a race" but
muscle memory kicked in and she upped her tempo to try to reel in the two
leaders.

   It was Fourteen all the way and Mr Starnes called out "Thirty-one
eighteen, nineteen, twenty-one" as Megan edged Two on the run-in.  Sixteen
finished to a cacophony of cheers with ginger-haired Thirteen just a few
steps back.  Then came Seven, Eight, Twenty, and Eighteen.

   Now the crowd started chanting "Six, six, six, ..." as Eighteen
despondently stopped a few steps past the finish line and reached for her
ankles even before Mistress V called out.  Each thwack of the paddle was
greeted with a cheer while the other mailgirls were clustered around the
water table attracting closer attention.

   Mistress V called out "Inside" and the eight Mailgirls obediently turned
and headed for the front entrance, followed by Megan who was happy that she
wasn't shepherding another mailgirl to the Med Center.

   * * * *

   "Sarah, you wouldn't believe the scene Sunday morning.  The lobby was as
full as I've ever seen it and the coffee shop was doing record business. 
The parking lot was overrun with spectators, all men, of course.  I think
every horny young male SG&T employee told all of their friends  -" how did
that many people pry themselves out of bed at that hour on a Sunday
morning, shouldn't they be sleeping off Saturday night?  I think Mistress V
was distressed at the scene.  The non-SG&T men had obviously not been
briefed that mailgirls are the lowest of the low; they cheered for the
runners.  Sixteen, you remember: tall well-built blonde from marketing, was
a crowd favorite.  I know there was still the men clothed, mailgirls naked
going on, but it was an entirely different vibe from delivering a message
to some suit on the fifth floor.  I'm afraid that Ms Barnes and Mistress V
will feel a need to inflict something dreadful on the mailgirls to remind
them of their place."

   "And did Megan get any of that admiration?"

   "I got cheers and catcalls about being overdressed and one guy came up
to me and told me that I was attractive enough to be a mailgirl, so why
not."

   "Oh the joy of a mailgirl, to know that you look good enough to be
beaten."

   Mistress V demanded that the bras not be worn in the building so the
test subjects put them on and peeled them off in front of the parking lot
crowd  -" that was well received."

   "So, who is in the running to run?"

   "Three had the quickest time, pushing me all the way on Saturday.  Four
beat me in the first run Sunday morning, I was thinking of my fifteen
minutes between runs.  Sam and I finished together in that heat.  Fourteen
beat me in the second run on Sunday, I was feeling it by then, and Two
finished just behind me.  Fifteen also ran well on Saturday as did Twelve
in the first heat on Sunday.  Fourteen and Fifteen's contracts are up in
September so I don't know how that will play into things.  And as I said,
the crowd favorite seemed to be Sixteen, also nearing the end of her
contract.  Five finished last for the second straight week; Eighteen and
Twenty-one also got six of the best in their heats.  When Mistress V sent
the mailgirls from the first heat back into the building and announced the
last one through the door would be paddled in the locker room, there was a
surge of spectators from the parking lot into the building opting for
watching chastisement over the start of the second heat."

   * * * *

   Later, in talking with Brendan, Megan said, "I'm a middle distance
runner, not a marathoner.  I can stretch out to run a decent 10k, but these
three runs in twenty-four hours are brutal.  If the temperature soars next
weekend I could be struggling to avoid the last place prize in that final
heat."

   "Well, since you're skipping the Striders race this week, I may have to
get up early next weekend to cheer you on."

   "Just remember which runner that you'll be watching."

   * * * *

   Fourteen was on her mat in the Law Library that afternoon working on one
of her current courses when Mr Fforde came up behind her.

   "You're looking lovely, my dear, all this running about must agree with
you.  I've had a chat with Human Capital and some of my friends on the
fifth floor." He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. 
Fourteen had tensed up at the sound of his voice so some gentle massage
would be welcome, but why him.

   "If you qualify for the running team, I've brokered a deal where your
mailgirl contract will be amended to put you in a part time status from
mid-August through the end of the year.  You would be on duty at SG&T from
Friday morning through Monday afternoon just as you are now and would be
released to the outside Tuesday through Thursday, which would allow you to
take classes on campus.  Of course, you'd need to sort out your living
arrangements during the week, but we could find you something."

   Fourteen had a pretty good idea of what living arrangements Mr Fforde
had in mind and she thought no.  Being able to take classes on campus this
semester was a good thing, she'd have to figure out housing and
transportation on her own.

   "Well, I won't keep you.  Think about this offer and if things work out
Ms Barnes will call you in the week after next."