Petulia Simmons stood in the shower and let the hot soothing water wash away the early morning lethargy. She did not usually rise this early, but she had an early morning meeting with Will Barrow down in Jersey City and so there would be extra travel time to consider. It wasn't that far from US Financials head office downtown where she worked, but she was unfamiliar with the rush hour bottlenecks and didn't want to be late.

Will Barrow had a fearsome reputation. As Director of US Financial's Human Capital unit, he was in charge of the Mailgirls program. Mailgirls were nude delivery women, a phenomenon that a few years ago would have been unthinkable. Emerging from Japan the practice was taking hold in more and more companies, US Financial being an early adopter here on the East Coast.

Petulia sought a career with US Financial as soon as she graduated from college mainly, if she was being honest with herself, because of the Mailgirls. She was fascinated with them, almost obsessed. Not to the point of wanting to be one. In her opinion, only a fool would want to become what was only one step away from being a glorified sex slave. Running naked delivering messages while the other staff stared, was not her idea of a fun job.

But Petulia was a fan of kinky sex. Bondage, fetishwear and S&M were indeed her ideas of sexual fun. Her two-bedroom condo was a shrine to her particular fetishes with one room being converted into a playroom with a St Andrews cross and a flogging bench being prominent amongst the equipment. Petulia was not a monster though. Safe Sane and Consensual were her watchwords. Everyone who ventured into her playroom got a safe word and left with a smile.

Well, nearly all. Graham Hall was the most recent to leave and he certainly was not happy. Neither was Petulia for that matter. He'd moved in with Petulia about eighteen months ago. Petulia had been clear from the start it was to be an open relationship. But as time wore on it became clear Graham was less and less happy with the stream of sex partners Petulia entertained. Graham had obviously hoped to convince her to settle for just one lover; him. Her rejection of this resulted in him losing control of his temper and Petulia giving him his marching orders.

Petulia's biggest sense of ire came from the financial position he had left her in. He had taken on the rent while Petulia had restocked and redecorated the playroom. His absence meant she had to take back the rent while her coffers were depleted. She wasn't in trouble, but things would be tight for a while.

But domestic drama aside it was her love of BDSM that had tempted her to seek out a position with US Financial. For where else could you take your lunch break, and sit in the lobby of your employer's building, and watch a dominatrix flog a nude collared woman for your entertainment.

Her friends, even those who knew of her secret sexual proclivities, had cautioned her not to get too close, "Else she found herself collared and delivering packages nude."

But Petula had thought of that. It was true that she met many of the requirements to qualify as a Mailgirl. She was attractive, and she could claim that without being vain. She had the dominatrix look going for herself, long black hair with a killer fringe. A stunning figure that looked smoking in a latex catsuit. In fact, one regular to her boudoir claimed he sought her out as she looked like the Stjepan Sejic character Alison in his Sunstone novels. So to keep Will Barrow at bay Petulia had acquired a tattoo.

Mailgirls were not allowed tattoos. It was written clearly in the manual. Nobody seeking to become a mailgirl was allowed to have a tattoo. So before taking her new role in the Public Relations department at US Financial Petulia had made a trip to a tattoo parlour.

So now she sported the BDSM triskelion on the outside of her left shoulder. It was quite large, just in case 'they' were prepared to overlook a small tattoo. Despite its large size, it could be covered by a simple t-shirt or short-sleeved blouse. It simply meant sleeveless tops were unsuitable for work. Thus Petulia Simmons hid from the press-gang behind the shield of the BDSM triskelion.

Once finished in the shower Petulia dressed in her usual office uniform. Scarlet satin blouse paired with a tight black pencil skirt and four-inch black patent pumps. When she wanted to look extra intimidating the skirt was leather, but not today. A sort black blazer toned things down again though she ensured her lipstick matched her blouse.

She was not totally sure what this meeting was about. Her immediate superior had mentioned that Human Capital had some issues with the mailgirls that would need careful handling with the public. But beyond that, she was not told.

However, Petulia was excited to be visiting Jersey City as there the mailgirls were kept on-site twenty-four-seven. No going home for the Jersey girls at the end of their shift. The mailgirls there were tethered to the floor overnight. Permanent, constant, humiliation and bondage. Allegedly the girls there were allowed to fuck each other outside of office hours. Another reason to arrive early. The chance of watching lesbian sex through the mirrored wall of the mailgirls quarters appealed to Petulia greatly.

So, gathering her phone into her handbag and shrugging on her leather trench coat, Petulia set off excitedly for her meeting.

Petulia arrived at Park Place, much to her own delight, forty-five minutes early. After drinking in the delectable sight of a blonde confined in a pillory by the security desk in the lobby, she made her way down to the cafeteria in the basement.

There Petulia ordered a coffee and sat down to watch the show. For all along one wall was a plate glass divide to the mailgirls locker room. Though ironically there were no lockers or bedding. There were some slumbering mailgirls tethered by their collars to black metal eyebolts set in the floor. Not all the girls were asleep. There were two using the Japanese squat toilets or washikis to empty their bladders. Another two were on their hands and knees eating their breakfast out of dog bowls on the floor. Permenantly collared and permanently nude it seemed US Financial did everything it could to dehumanise the mailgirls.

However, the sight that really caught Petulia's attention was one of the three girls in the showers. For it was clear that the one on the right, with three fingers buried in her own snatch, and the other hand grasping at her own tit. Was grinding out an orgasm with the heel of her lower hand. Ignored by the other girls the girl's eyes were screwed tight shut. Her mouth, silenced by distance and the wall of glass, was framed in a circle. The oh's and ah's only sounding in Petulia's head. Abruptly the girl ceased her actions and shuddered, nearly trembled, her knees almost giving out beneath her.

Petulia, realising she had been holding her breath, exhaled. The abandon the girl showed. Rubbing one out stood next to her colleagues in the shower. A shower without a stall, just a shower head over a drain. There could be nothing to hide behind, no privacy, for a mailgirl. It was at moments like these that Petulia knew why she worked for US Financial. One day she would have a Mailgirl in her playroom.

A woman rocking a quasi dominatrix outfit walked up to the still trembling girl. It was clear the mailgirl was being interrogated, as the dominatrix made notes on a handheld tablet. Petulia knew, if she looked up the girls' profile on the net, the intensity, time and number of orgasms would be logged for all to see. Utterly no privacy for mailgirls.

The dominatrix would be Mistress Rei, the counterpart to Mistress Zero in New York. Clearly, of Japanese descent, the woman was dressed in knee-high boots, a short leather skirt and an impossibly tight white blouse. The woman checked her watch and turned away from the sopping mailgirl.

Shortly after Mistress Rei walked past Petulia after emerging from a heavy steel door at the far end of the cafe. If she was going up... Petulia checked her watch and saw it was time for her to head on too.

The lift ride was uneventful. Just like Manhatten Mailgirls were banned from using lifts. They were shunned to the stairs or if the climb was over ten stories, the service elevator.

Arriving at the reception desk she was guided into the office to be greeted by Will Barrow himself.

"Petulia, welcome, let me introduce the others. This is Mistress Rei, our supervisor for the mailgirls here at Park Place. This is Gail Chandler, Gail is your opposite number here in Jersey City and the grumpy sod on his phone is Michael Stanton our head of Market research. Finally, at the end of the table, there is Jude Wilson from Personel and Recruitment." Petulia nodded to each in turn as their name was called out. "People this is Petulia Simmons, she heads up the public relations division in New York."

Petulia took a seat and extracted a notepad from her briefcase. Will watched her prepare and so she nodded that she was ready to begin.

"Okay folks, I asked you here today as we need to overhaul some aspects of the mailgirl program. It's been going for a short time and we always knew there would be teething problems. We've reached that stage now where we are no longer the only player in the game. In fact, we have quite a lot of competition now, and it is causing us some issues. Jude, could you continue for me please?"

Jude stood and faced the others, "We used to have an edge over our competitors simply by dint of being the only employer that offered the perk of in house mailgirls. That is no longer the case. It was inevitable that our rivals would catch on and in some respects, they have overtaken us."

Petulia frowned at this. How could you be overtaken? Surely it was binary. You had mailgirls or you didn't.

"I can see some confused faces. Let me expand. It used to be we were it, and so, if you wanted to work alongside mailgirls you sought a job here. Then others joined in and so there was a choice. We then rolled out our twenty-four-seven girls here at Park Place. Our competitors started upping the ante. Young & Unglaub ensured all their girls had matching hair colour. Likewise, Hobson Morgan McNamara had all their girl have matching hairstyles. It's become quite the battlefield in the recruiting world as to who has the best mailgirls."

Jude took a sip of water and continued.

"So aside from recruiting issues there is a retention problem too. Mailgirls get folks railed up. That energy is good for business. Our profitability has been way up since the project started, you'd need someone from accounting to give you details, but in essence, it more than pays for itself. But sometimes a mailgirl is too tempting. The 'don't touch or you're out' rule escapes someone's mind, and we lose a valuable staff member because we put temptation in their way. This is where some competitors are gaining a lead. Some companies are letting their staff touch. In fact, some are letting their staff do a lot more than touch."

Petulia thought she could see where this was heading. Could it be that she could at last play with a mailgirl?

"DDE in Wildwood has negotiated with the local mayor to allow the mailgirls to walk the streets. Various vendors allow them in to. So executives can be waited on while entertaining clients. Plus some companies in Nevada allow sex with their girls."

"That can't happen here in New Jersey though," interjected Gail.

"Prostitution is illegal in all states but Nevada, true. But If the girls are not selling sex to the public and only offer oral, then some loopholes can be exploited along the private club rule. There are two companies in New Jersey and one in Manhatten that are already doing so.."

Gail gasped at this news while Petulia wondered who these companies were.

"Finally there is a recruitment issue with the girls themselves. Piercings, tattoos and weird and funky hairstyles have become the norm in modern America. Finding women with all the requisite attributes, now that there is competition in hiring, that are not excluded by one of the aforementioned items, is getting harder day by day."

Jude sat down to indicate he had finished, and Will stood once more.

"So to ensure the continued progress of our program we are implementing some changes. Before we come to those though there is one other item I want to run by you two public relations experts. We have our first medical retirement. Mailgirl Eighteen has a rather aggressive tumour in her right breast. I know what I want to do about it but I want to hear it from you."

"You get her the best medical help the company can afford and if she survives you give her a good job within the company or pay her off without penalties," answered Petulia immediately. "If you think you have recruitment issues now, wait to see how hard it is to hire if you don't."

"What she said," retorted Gail when Will turned to her.

Will smiled, "I'm glad to see we are all in agreement on that issue then. So on to the changes in the program. If we allow the girls... no that is wrong... If we allow the staff to use the girls, in any way sexually, we will have all the wives and boyfriends screaming blue murder.
As it stands our sexually wound staff go home all charged up and expend their energy upon their lovers. I do not want to encourage infidelity. It is only our frustrated single staff members who get no relief, bar a seedy back street prostitute or a cheap date who puts out early.
So I propose that the names of any who use a mailgirl for sexual relief must log on to the girls' profile, plus take a selfie with the girls MMU. Jealous partners can then monitor the Mailgirl site to see if their lover makes use of the girls.
Obviously, all use of Mailgirls must be out of working hours. We cannot charge the staff for their use, for legal reasons, so points can be earnt from the use of the system. This will give those of higher rank more opportunity but as most are married they'll probably use their points to reward staff."

"Do the mailgirls get any say in this?" Asked Gail.

"No, we hold power of attorney, we will amend their contracts. They will be simply presented with the new rules. To minimise turnover we will restart their contracts on two years so if they think of walking they will incur maximum penalties."

"This is limited to oral sex on the part of the girls?" Asked Petulia.

"Yes, it is still illegal to allow vaginal intercourse. Though we do have lobbyists in both the senate and congress working on an exemption for Mailgirls from prostitution laws."

Awesome thought Petulia, she knew which mailgirl she'd be saving up to use.

An idea occurred to her. She ran with it. "I think we should insist the girls swallow, and that the men allow them to do so," she offered. "We don't want jism covered mailgirls failing inspection because some stud emptied his load on her face."

Will face cracked into a broad grin. "An excellent suggestion, Petulia. I'm glad you're thinking this through."

Will continued, "The next change is a minor one that does not address any of the issues so far raised. A visiting male friend of one of the girls was able to remove a girls collar and was caught trying to abscond with her. To this end..." Will reached under the desk and then placed an open steel collar in the middle of the table. "We are going to upgrade all the girls to this new lockless model. They're made from stainless steel and based on a German design for the BDSM market."

Petulia instantly recognised an Axsmar collar. Two inches tall with a ring set in the front this one stood out for the number eighteen engraved either side of the ring. She knew too the collar would have a chip in it to stop the wearer from leaving the premises.

"If they don't lock," queried Gail, "what's to stop anyone from removing it?"

Petulia jumped in before Will could answer, "They do lock. Permenantly." Gail had the decency to look shocked.

"The retiring mailgirl always has the option to have it cut off, once their contract has expired," added Will.

"Is that possible?" Asked Jude.

"I'm informed it is," responded Will. Though Petulia noticed he did not elaborate. "Now Mistress Rei has some ideas concerning the recruitment issues."

The dominatrix stood and smiled, though it did not warm the room. "Mailgirls came from Japan. In Japan, tattoos are worn by Yakuza and Yuujyo. The man who started mailgirls was actually old school Yakuza and to hide his past banned mailgirls from wearing them. Here in the west tattoos are now fashionable. Also, body piercings of erogenous areas such as the nipples and tongue. I propose to keep ahead of competitors we make the following changes to our girls.
We cut their hair short. We do this if we are going to allow oral sex to minimise injury from pulling hair. Also, girls with short hair clean up quicker.
We pierce their tongues so that they may perform better when serving orally.
We may want to consider allowing, if not actually piercing their nipples and septums. A septum ring looks very 'appropriate' on a submissive girl. Nipple rings would offer me extra ways to punish disobedience.
To reduce turnover may I suggest any week where more than thirty demerits are awarded is not removed from their contract? This could significantly extend some girls service and reduce the need to replace them.
Finally, tattoos should be reviewed on a case by case basis. Some tattoos are truly ugly and mar the wearer. But others can enhance the beauty of the girl and should not impede an opportunity to serve."

Petulia went cold with fear. Her shield may have just been stripped from her. Did they know?

"All excellent suggestions. Especially the nose and nipple rings. Implement them all."

Will turned to Petulia, "So that only leaves us one other item of business. Eighteens replacement. It seems to me Petulia that you would make an ideal candidate. So much so I took the liberty of drawing up a contract for you to look at. Will slid a thick bound contract across the table.
It seems you have some complaints coming from your landlord about running a disreputable house. Your security deposit is forfeit, and you owe two months rent in arrears. Your credit card debt is quite large and your student loan debt is in arrears too. I'm informed they are all about to foreclose on you. Obviously, we can no longer employ you in your role at public relations if your sexual adventures are about to become public knowledge.
However, the contract before you would make all these problems go away and see you win a sizable bonus on successful completion."

Petulia heaved and swallowed back the vomit in her mouth. She was fucked! Worse, the lot of a mailgirl had just become much worse and she was being press-ganged at the start of the new regime. Wildly she looked around at the faces staring at her. Gail had the decency to look appaled. Will's poker face betrayed no emotion, but the others were all grinning with malice.

"No!" I didn't sound like her voice. It seemed to come from far away.

"Are you sure Pet?" Will's condescending tone rankled almost as much of his over-familiar contraction of her name. "Things could get very difficult for you if you don't take this option."

"Why me?"

"You seemed fascinated with the mailgirls. You've spent more time watching them than eighty-three per cent of the staff. The remaining seventeen per cent are male."

"I'm dominant. I can't"

"Oh, I don't know about that. Both Mistress Zero and Mistress Rei were once mailgirls. Who knows, perhaps upon completion of your contract we may be able to find you a similar position at one of our regional branches?"

"My possessions?" Could she really be entertaining this?

"Will be held in storage. We will send a crew in. Though I hear you have some items of furniture that could be put to use here," Will smirked at that. The fucker was enjoying this.

Petulia considered running. She knew it was pointless. The last girl to run, Kristen something, was panning for gold in Alaska. A minor celebrity on reality television but still tens of thousands of dollars in debt.

She turned the first page of the contract. Making a show of looking at it. Was she stalling for time? Why? She was fucked.

"You'll need to initial the new clause on fellatio and cunnilingus as, unlike the existing mailgirls, we don't have the power of attorney for you yet."

He smiled before continuing, "Though we will add your proposal on swallowing as soon as we can."

Petulia heaved again. No wonder the fucker had grinned at that suggestion. She should have known the second Gail had been introduced. They didn't need two public relations people here. Gail would be explaining the changes to the great unwashed public. She... she would be wearing that collar and nothing else.

Petulia looked at the collar properly now. She didn't dare touch it though. She knew the excitement of collaring a submissive. Will Barrow was probably getting that kick now. But unlike her, he was playing for real. Mailgirls most definitely did not get safe words.

She couldn't think of a way out. She tried reading the contract properly, if for no other reason than to stall for time. On duty one hundred and sixty-eight hours a week! Well, that's a new way of saying twenty-four seven. So that makes the bonus of two hundred and fifty thousand work out at about, umm, fourteen bucks an hour. Plus the sixty thou salary it was pretty good money. But sucking off suits for two years? How many times? Well, three breaks and after hours. Would it be safe to assume no more than four a day? Over four hundred blow jobs assuming they didn't fuck her some more and extend the contract.

"Petulia we are getting pressed for time here." Will Barrow interrupted her calculations.

It was pointless, she was fucked.

Her hand trembled so much she struggled to grip the pen.
A whispered, "Oh my God she's doing it," escaped Gail as she finally got the pen in her hand.

She fumbled through the pages of the contract to find the section Will had mentioned. She scrawled her initials. Blinking through tears she thumbed through the rest to find the part where she signed the next two years of her life into sexual slavery. For real. Not safe, or sane and this was far from consensual no matter that she was signing voluntarily. It was done.

"When do I start? Can I..." She started.

"Now Eighteen. Strip please."

"Now?"

"Straight away, you are out of uniform." Will turned to Mistress Rei, "Could you call up six please?" Mistress Rei started tapping her tablet.

Petulia started by removing her jewellery before moving on and removing her jacket. In a state of shock, she looked for help from the faces around her and found none. She unbuttoned her blouse and placed it on her chair along with her jacket.

"Hurry up Eighteen," barked Mistress Rei, "you don't want to earn demerits before your first run do you?"

Panicked at the threat Petulia sped up. Dropping her skirt and stepping out of her heels. The loss of four inches of height did not help her state of mind any.

She was down to her underwear now, a black lace push-up bra with matching tanga. Trembling fingers fumbled behind and the men leered at her. She managed to work the clasp and her firm C cup breast were no longer hidden from view. Distressingly her nipples were rock hard and very prominent. Unable to maintain eye contact with anyone in the room Petulia stared at the ground as she hooked her thumbs into her briefs and pushed them down past her hips to drop on the floor.

She bent to pick them up.

"I'll take those, Eighteen." Stated Will Barrow.

Her face burning scarlet she handed over her mortifyingly damp underwear.

"My these are moist. Are you enjoying this, Eighteen? No, don't  answer that, these tell me all I need to know and there is little point in trapping you in a lie."

She stood naked blushing furiously staring at the floor wondering what happened now.

"That's an interesting tattoo Eighteen, does the symbol have any significance?" Asked Will.

"It's the BDSM triskelion."

"Sir."

"What?"

"It's the BDSM triskelion, sir. Forget to address me, or anyone else in this room, correctly again and you'll earn a demerit, Eighteen."

"Sorry, sir."

"So everyone into kinky sex will know what that symbol means, Eighteen?"

"Yes, sir, pretty much."

"That should keep you on your toes then. Mistress Rei, can we wrap this up please?"

The Japanese woman stalked around the table and picked up the collar. "Toes," she barked. Eighteen, long familiar with the positions Mailgirls must assume upon command, spread her feet shoulder-width apart raised up on her toes and clasped her hands behind her head.

The collar was held up against her throat. It was squeezed shut until a click. That was it. It was never coming off. Or not for over two years. Tears started anew.

"Six!" Called the dominatrix.

"Yes, Mistress Rei," a redhead Mailgirl stepped up into Eighteens view.

"Take this Tango down to the locker room and wait for me there. She'll be paired up with you this week."

New mailgirls had a letter T, for trainee, scrawled in black marker pen on their thigh to mark them out as initiates. It didn't take long for that to become the twentieth letter of the phonetic alphabet, tango.

Eighteen turned and followed Six out of the boardroom. Just like that, she walked away from her clothes, her phone the keys to her flat. Her life.

Struggling to keep her arms at her sides and not cover up she walked naked past leering men and women. Everyone keen to see the new girl.

Entering the stairwell Six turned to her, "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

"Good, we've all been through it. We understand. We'll talk more tonight. But we need to hurry now."

"Uh, Six, I need to tell you things."

"Quickly then, while we move, but only in the stairwell."

"They are changing the rules."

"They are always changing the rules. That's not news."

"Mailgirls are going to have to give oral."

Six stopped dead on the stairs, "You are certain?"

"We'll have to swallow too," she did not add that had been her idea.

"Will, you sly fucker." She turned to Eighteen, "It was only a matter of time. Anything else?"

"They're allowing tattoos, they're going to cut our hair short and pierce us."

"It's an arms race, Eighteen, and we're the weapons. Eventually, they'll work out how to circumvent the law and fuck us properly. Then it'll be indefinite contracts and we will be slaves for life."

"Oh, I forgot, if we get too many demerits in a week that week will not count against the contract."

"See, they always fuck us. Come on Eighteen, the last thing we need now is a demerit."

Petulia Simmons, now simply Eighteen, followed Six down the stairs. Was Six correct? Was this for two years? Could it be this was for life?