All day, I felt like wrapped in a blanket woven from humiliation, and I failed to fight the arousal it brought. The first half of the morning had gone pretty well. The assignments we got never took us into my own department, and the employees treated us okay. We had our fifteen minute break around ten and spent it on a rubber mat in a hallway on the twelfth floor, sucking water from a cock shaped rubber dispenser and eating "mailgirl kibble", somewhat bland but supposedly nutrient stuff, from a bowl. I tried to ignore the people who walked past us. They barely took notice of us, yet I could feel their looks on my exposed skin. But then our break was over and we received our next delivery order.

Even Fifteen gasped when she saw it. 2nd floor, office 267, Hawthorne," our MMUs read. "Rush delivery. Priority. " The timer started ticking down from ninety.

We did our best to make it in time down ten stories, but we had to get to the emergency staircase first, then down from twelve to two, then through most of Marketing to Hawthorne's office. We arrived twelve seconds late. I was panting hard, and Fifteen was breathing heavier as well.

Hawthorne, Linda Hawthorne as the plate on her desk read, turned out to be a tall, young woman with her shiny black hair in a tight bun. She wore a form-hugging black dress with lace over the shoulder part. Her lips were painted a dark burgundy. She was walking a fine line between office decency and sensual goth. She stood up when he raced into the office and came to a stop in front of her.

"This needs to go up to the twenty-third," Hawthorn said coldly, pointing to a huge, fat envelope on her desk, and I felt my eyes widen.

Fifteen immediately grasped the envelope and gasped at its weight. "This mailgirl thanks you for the assignment," she said and started to turn around, but Hawthorn stopped her.

"Wait!" the goth said and turned to me. "You're the new one, aren't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I said dutifully while I watched the timer on my MMU count down from 200. "This mailgirl started today."

"Inspection," she said, and I had no choice but to comply. So I got onto the balls of my feet and stuck out my chest even further.

She leaned close. She sniffed. Then she slid her hands over my vulva, and I whimpered, which made her laugh.

"You're new. You probably expect us to ease you in. But it's like with swimming. Things go faster if you just dive in the deep end." Then she held her phone to my MMU and made it buzz with five demerits. "You smell like sweat," she said.

I was taken aback for a few precious seconds, and it was only Fifteen's soft clearing of her throat that helped me over the shock. "This mailgirl thanks you for pointing out her shortcoming and helping her improve," I ground out, now with mounting dread that we were going to miss our deadline by a lot.

"Always happy to help, Eight," Hawthorne said slowly, and a strange shiver went up my spine when she said my number. "Don't you have a delivery?"

Finally. I took a deep breath and raced after Fifteen. I didn't even read our exact target. I just raced after Fifteen as fast as I could.

Of course we were late. We were almost a minute too late, and as I stood there, sweating madly, barely able to catch my breath, Janet the bitch, who was the recipient, let me know that it was two demerit points for every second over time with a priority rush delivery.

She added another ten because I was sweating, then, after sniffing Fifteen, she gave her ten as well, and I realized for the first time that my MMU buzzed in time with hers.

Janet opened the envelope and pulled out a fucking brick. A real, red brick.

"Linda is such a clown," she said and dropped the brick into a waste basket.

I couldn't help it. The cruelty in all this overwhelmed me. We were about to get a long, awful punishment just because Linda and Janet felt like it and had their fun, and we were totally powerless to prevent it. I was exhausted and I started crying.

Janet didn't care. She stepped closer and bellowed, "What is the first mailgirl mantra?"

I sniffled and gulped, but I was too slow, and my MMU buzzed with fresh demerits.

"A-a m-mailgirl a-always smiles," I gasped.

"Are you smiling, Eight?"

"No, Ma'am," I sobbed, and my MMU buzzed again.

"Smile!" she ordered sharply, but that only drew a fresh sob from me, which resulted in another buzz.

"Please, Ma'am."

Buzz.

It went on for a few more rounds until the despair I felt turned into hatred. But my sobs finally stopped, and I painted a cold, fake smile on my lips.

"Finally," Janet said and patted my cheek. "When Jake fucks me over lunchtime, I'll tell him that there will be a spectacle to watch at the end of your shift. Say your line, then you can leave."

A few more tears streaked down my cheeks, but I kept the fake smile plastered on my lips. "This mailgirl thanks you for pointing out all her mistakes and for helping her improve."

Janet guffawed, but she waved us away, and I had never in my life been so grateful to get off this floor.

~*~*~

"Six," Madame Lee said, standing in front of the girl in question and touching her phone to the pretty, short-haired girl's MMU. "Still twenty-one, like in the morning. Well done, but don't start getting a big head."

She moved to the next girl in the line. "Seven. Ten demerits since the weekend. You're improving."

Then it was my time. Madame Lee read my MMU with her app and took a step back. "The fuck, Eight," she gasped. "Two-hundred and thirty-eight? On your first day?"

The locker room was instantly filled with excited whispers.

"Silence!" Madame Lee bellowed and got closer again.

I gulped hard. Something in her eyes really terrified me. "We'll deal with fifty of those tonight," she said quietly. "Have Fifteen explain the options after we're done here."

"Y-yes, Madame Lee," I said with another gulp.

She went through the whole line. Twelve had accumulated twenty-nine points and was due a spanking as well. Fifteen's score was no surprise now. Nineteen was at thirty. We all got our asses blistered in front of the mirror, and Fifteen and I held each others hands in place when it was our turn. I cried some more, of course.

We ate mailgirl chow from the bowl on the floor afterwards. It was bland and messy, and things got even more humiliating when Fifteen pointed out that it was tradition between mailgirls to not waste a tiny bit of our small rations and lick each others faces clean.

I had seen that happen, of course, but I didn't really get the motivation behind it.

It was revolting. At least a little. But it was also strangely comforting, and it felt nice when Fifteen's warm, moist tongue licked all over my face. Weird sensations danced across my skin and traveled through my body by the time it was my turn, and I gently cleaned her face with my tongue. I was almost done when I spotted a small crumb at the corner of her mouth. She could lick that up easily, but I acted before I could think twice and ran my tongue over her soft lips.

She moaned softly, and I felt her tongue touch mine. I pulled back as if burned.

"I'm not," I stammered. "I mean, into girls, it just – I…"

"I know," she said, taking my hand. "Don't worry. Let's shower."

I kept turned to the wall when I took my shower, suddenly conscious about my nudity and the possibility of spectators. Fifteen and I shared one of the few toothbrushes. They daytime mailgirls left to go home after that while the rest of us, exactly half of our number, went to the cupboard at the back and pulled out the thin, narrow mattresses.

My first instinct was to leave a gap between Fifteen's and my mattress, but she quickly quenched that attempt at modesty. "It's too cold otherwise," she said, sliding my mattress close until they aligned. "Don't forget we don't have blankets."

I stared at her for a minute until the meaning fully sank in. We'd have to cuddle to stay warm.

"You can go between Twelve and me," she said with a smile, pointing at the girl lying on the mattress next to ours. She was a lithe blond with small breasts, and she didn't notice that we were looking at her. She was too busy making out with Seven, who had the same hair color and body shape.

"It seems like nobody cares about modesty here," I said, laying down on the mat.

"There's not much left of it anyway," Fifteen said, laying down as well, facing me. "The days are hard. You have to take all the comfort you get." She took my hand. "You signed up voluntarily?"

I took a shivering breath. "I did," I admitted. "I was stupid and horny and…"

"I understand. I did too."

I looked at her, and a thought wiggled to the forefront of my mind. "Did you…" I had no idea how to finish the question without being too crude.

"Fuck Jake?" She sighed softly. "Yes, I did."

"How long have you been a… mailgirl?"

"Five months."

I did the calculations in my head, and I was pretty sure that Jack was fucking her while I already had my fling with him. "He was toying with us at the same time," I finally whispered.

"I know."

"You know?"

"You came out of his office one day, and you had that look, you know? He had me blow him hard, and I could taste you on him."

I closed my eyes and tried to vanish into the ground. "Too much information!" I whimpered.

"He was fucking Kelly Perkins from Accounting and Reese Allen from Marketing too at that time."

I groaned. I had been so blinded by the sexual fulfillment he gave me that I never noticed. "I'm such an idiot!"

She giggled softly. "Most of us are. That we ended up here is the proof."

"Thanks," I whispered and squeezed her hand. "At least I only have seven hundred and twenty-nine days left."

We both giggled. Gallows humor.

Then I recalled my uncomfortable talk with our "handler." "Lee told me to ask you about options." I was pretty sure I saw a blush appear on her cheeks, which surprised me after seeing her take everything else in stride. "What?" I asked.

"There's this rule if you have more than two hundred demerits at the end of your Friday shift. You normally exchange two hundred of them for another week added to your contract." She bit her lip.

"Normally? There's another choice?" I guessed.

"Four hours on the upper floor over the weekend for every two hundred demerits," she said quietly.

The upper floor. With Jake and the management. "What happens on the upper floor?" I asked.

Her face looked a little pained. "Anything they want," she admitted after a short pause.

"Sex?"

She closed her eyes. "Sex. Some pain. Usually both."

I took a deep breath. Yes, I heard the rumors that things on the upper floors weren't as clean as the rules said where it came to mailgirls.

"We still have four days," I reminded her. "If we don't ramp up too many demerits-"

She laughed out loud. "Don't even start, Eight. We're Jake's girls. We're going to ramp up demerits. The thing with Linda? Something like that happens every fucking day."

I couldn't help but ask. "Why? Why did she do that? She's not upper floor. What's in it for her?"

Fifteen turned around and snuggled her back against my front. "She's my ex."

"Your-"

"Former girlfriend. We had this domme/sub thing going, nothing intense, mind you, but she liked to edge me and spread out my cums. I was so horny all the time. I almost fell over myself to spread my legs for Jake when he got touchy-feely, and she was really pissed when I confessed to it. I was all over the place after she pulled the plug, and my life got really awful because we were in the same team. Jake only had to nudge me a little until I signed the contract."

"So today was payback?"

"It was. I'm glad she has to save up her reward points for a few weeks until she can have a go again."

Reward points were handed out to employees at the weekly team reviews, based on their performance, and used to pay for mailgirl deliveries. The most senior employees received larger quantities as part of their salaries. I had accumulated almost two thousand points by the time I signed my contract.

"But there are a lot of employees out there who give us a hard time. They know we've fucked the CEO, which puts a target on our asses."

"This is all so much more fucked up than I thought," I complained.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"So we're going to end up in the high numbers, no matter how hard we try?"

"That's a fact. As I said, I'm sorry."

"How many additional weeks have you earned yet?"

She turned around once again and looked me in the eyes. "About that," she said, looking really uncomfortable.

I waited for her to continue, and it was clear I wasn't going to like the answer.

"None. And I won't. I made my choice for the upper floor permanent, which halves my hours up there."

I nearly forgot to breathe. "Oh, wow," I whispered. "Like, you have to swap your demerit points for… sex… now?"

She shook her head. "It's an easy choice, too, if you ever want be done. The other girls, they add a few months, but they finish their contracts at some point in time. Not we. We're…" She didn't have to spell it out, but she said it anyway. "We're Jake's girls. We're well and truly fucked."

"How is it?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to know, but aware that I needed to.

"It's hard," she said. "Intense. Sometimes I have to do pretty gross things. But I get fucked well most times. Sometimes even by him."

I knew the flicker of need in her eyes. I had seen it often enough in a mirror, and even now, in that terrible situation I had placed myself in, I couldn't help but feel that delicious thrill between my thighs, that warm, sticky well of need. "Fuck," I whispered and sat up. Around us, most girls had paired off on the mattresses and were touching and kissing. Letter carrying lesbians, LCLs, someone had called them – called us – a while ago, and I realized that it was true. The statistics should be pretty clear that only a fraction of the mailgirls could be true lesbians.

"Can you cuddle me?" I asked quietly, feeling a little chill on my skin.

"Sure," she said and waited for me to lie down. She put one arm over my midriff.

I had expected to have a hard time falling asleep, but I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. I tried to think about the looming threat of the weekend and the choice I had to make, but I fell asleep with her warm breath on my back before I got far.

~*~*~

"One-thousand two-hundred and fifty-nine demerits," Madame Lee said, leaning against her desk and staring at me. "You need to make a choice."

It was either six weeks on top of my two-year contract, or twenty-four hours on the upper floor. Or twelve hours if I made a permanent choice. Fifteen had been right. There was no choice. If this kept up, my time as a mailgirl was going to end with old-age retirement if I wanted a few hours to myself every now and then. "The upper floor, Madame Lee," I said. "Always the upper floor."

She almost managed to hide the surprise in her eyes, but she stared at me for a few seconds, daring me to falter and change my mind. "Very well." She typed something into her phone. "You and Fifteen will be collected at nine tomorrow. Which means we have fifty-nine demerits left to deal with. Get over the desk."

This time, I didn't need Fifteen's helping hands. This time, I gripped the edge of the desk and gave myself over to the punishment. The first few swats from Madame Lee really stung, but then I felt the heat spread through my buttocks, and a strange tranquility too over. There was no use in clinging onto dreams of modesty, no use in struggling against the inevitable.

All of a sudden, I was intensely aware of the spectacle I was providing, a grown woman lying naked across the desk, my swelling buttocks wiggling with every cruel swat from Madame Lee's hand, while dozens of former colleagues watched through the one-way mirror and basked in my shame. I could almost feel their arousal through the mirrored glass. It was as if it was flowing into me too, infecting me with their breathless, misogynistic excitement, and so I lifted my head and stared in their direction, exposing my embarrassment and forbidden pleasure to them through tear-filled, needy eyes.

I was caught unaware when Madame Lee stopped spanking me and slid her fingers over my swollen vulva, spreading the copious moisture my slutty pussy was expelling, finding my clit. It was like a light switch when she flicked it gently. Pleasure exploded through my lower body and took my breath away. I started trembling and cried out, over and over, every time her finger flicked my clit, the climax building and building until the tears streaking down my face were ones of pure, shameful, almost unbearable pleasure.

That night, I fell asleep spooned by Fifteen's body again, with her warm breath soothingly tickling my ear, and I pulled Seven closer to my front, gently kissing her neck before my arm slid over her, too exhausted to worry about tomorrow and the upper floor.