One Of Them

The digital clock just above the door of the Mailgirl locker room read "6:58" as Twenty passed through. She had arrived with plenty of time to spare before her shift started at 8 AM sharp, a cushion which was precious and valuable given the mandatory pre-shift inspection by Mistress Henckel at 7:45 AM.

The locker room itself was basically a long corridor spanning the entire width of the fourth floor. Twenty had entered from the right side, which meant Mistress Henckel's desk was on the opposite side of the room. The row of open, doorless lockers stretched all along the wall to her right; on the left hand side were showers, toilets and sitting benches. The left side wall was one long mirror, and given her morning encounter, Twenty was fairly sure that she knew what was on the opposite side.

There were forty total lockers, each numbered sequentially. Being Mailgirl Number Twenty, she naturally had the one right in the middle of the room. There weren't forty total mailgirls (Thirty-One was the highest numbered), but she had no doubt that they would be adding more in the weeks and months to come. She had simply lucked into the next available number.

Twenty did a quick scan of the half dozen other women in the room; most were naked already and the few who weren't were quickly remedying that. Five was a lithe, statuesque blonde (much like Twenty herself) who worked the night shift; she was conversing with Twelve as they both walked towards the showers. They passed by svelte brunette Twenty-Six, who was by herself on one of the long benches, her back pressed against the polished metal, long legs up in the air as she fingered herself with reckless abandon, as if she were in the privacy of her own bedroom rather than an open locker room at the heart of a busy office building.

Open and public masturbation was one of the many things that had surprised Twenty on her first day as a mailgirl, and seeing it again on her second wasn't any easier. Mistress Henckel hadn't commented on it directly, but she also hadn't explicitly prohibited it, which led Twenty to believe that it was tolerated among the small mailgirl community. And although it shocked her to her very core on first glance, Twenty had to grudgingly admit that allowing the mailgirls to sate their desires in the locker room was a blessed allowance as much as a shrewd business decision, especially now that she was aware of just how much all the other employees in the building were able to see. The mailgirls could relieve themselves after a long day of running between offices completely in the nude, and the employees who watched them got free shows of naked, attractive young women pleasuring themselves.

To her credit, Twenty-Six was playing her part perfectly. Her face and chest were flushed red, and her skin shone with sweat as she writhed and moaned, oblivious to almost everything except the frantic movement of her hand between her legs. She had ample C-cup breasts with large, perky nipples; her free hand was firmly clamped around one, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh in time with her very audible gasps. In the relative quiet of the locker room, the unmistakable sounds of her fingers entering and exiting her soaked pussy at a frenzied pace served as a complement to the throaty moans escaping her lips. No doubt the onlookers behind the one-way glass were enjoying the show almost as much as she seemed to enjoy giving it.

Twenty eyed tall, willowy Fifteen next to short and petite Seventeen, both girls disrobing at their lockers; they would be on the same shift as she was. Conspicuously empty, however, was the locker between them, the one belonging to Sixteen. She knew that Sixteen was assigned to train her for the week, so the brunette's absence coupled with what she had seen yesterday after work only caused Twenty to worry more.

She set her handbag down in her locker before taking a few steps towards Fifteen and Seventeen, her fingers already working on undoing the buttons at the front of her blouse. "Hey, have you seen Sixteen?"

Fifteen straightened up to look at Twenty, having just removed her panties from around her ankles; she stood with only her bra on. "No, she hasn't been in yet," she replied, reaching behind her back with and unclasping the last garment she wore, her D-cup sized breasts spilling into view moments later. "Haven't seen her since the end of the day yesterday."

Seventeen cast a glance at Twenty and was about to say something when an ear-splitting scream of pleasure from Twenty-Six briefly silenced the entire room. They all looked over to where the brunette lay on the bench, her entire body limp and sagging save for her left hand, which still worked back and forth between her legs diligently. "Yeah, I think she was called away when she finished her shift," Seventeen offered after a moment of relative silence. "Not sure where, but she didn't take any of her things."

Sure enough, Twenty spotted the neatly folded clothes still laying on the small shelves in Sixteen's locker. On the topmost one, a pair of diamond stud earrings and a small silver necklace sat. "Is it like her to leave like this?" she asked, folding her own blouse neatly and setting it aside before reaching for the zipper at the side of her skirt.

"It isn't the first time she's done this," Fifteen stated, pulling off her own earrings. "Last week she left her things twice during the week. Came back the day after saying she had taken sick."

This took Twenty aback slightly. "She seemed fine yesterday when she was showing me around. Didn't look like she was feeling under the weather."

"It's not like her to lie about that sort of thing either," Seventeen added, grabbing a towel from her locker. "She's been here longer than I have and I've been here almost two years. Always been punctual and rarely misses a day. Just been within the past few months that we've noticed things like this happening."

"She's supposed to be training you today, right?" Fifteen asked Twenty.

The blonde nodded, her mind already trying to process the information her fellow mailgirls had just told her. "For the rest of the week, as Mistress Henckel said," she replied, hooking her thumbs through the sides of her panties and sliding them down her legs.

"I'm sure if she doesn't show up, Mistress Henckel will assign you a new partner, so I wouldn't worry too much about it," Seventeen said.

"Yeah, I'm sure she will," Twenty agreed with a nod, though her thoughts were still preoccupied with what had happened to her partner from the previous day. "Thanks."

"I'd actually spend more time worrying about passing muster down there," Fifteen intoned with a glance down towards Twenty's groin before starting towards the showers.

Twenty caught the veiled nuance in Fifteen's voice, but had to look down before she fully understood what the other mailgirl had meant. Despite having shaven her pussy the previous day, a few stray strands of pubic hair had grown back on her mound, evident enough for a casual observer like Fifteen to notice. And if Fifteen had seen them, there was little chance that they would escape Mistress Henckel's detection. Twenty finished folding her clothes and placing them in her locker before reaching for the small two-blade shaving razor and tube of shaving gel on the top shelf, along with the white terrycloth towel folded up next to the black Lycra armband which housed her MMU.

Only when she had turned to follow the rest of her nude colleagues to the showers did Twenty realize that she would need to shave herself in front of the mirrors on the opposite side of the room. The same mirrors that were most definitely one-way windows into the mailgirl locker room. She froze in place for a few moments, her mind seemingly unwilling to commit her body to such degradation.

Twenty had always been a driven individual in all aspects of her life, especially in regards to her professional career. That commitment was being sorely tested at the moment, however. Spending one day running around an office building in the nude had been more than enough, but now she had to shave herself in front of what was likely a gaggle of horny, voyeuristic businessmen on the other side of the mirrors. And that was just the start of her day.

Part of her wanted to just drop everything, gather up her clothes and run out the door, never to return. It would be career suicide, but at least she could keep what was left of her dignity. But even as she mulled it over in her head, she felt herself take the first few tentative steps toward the showers. For all her self-doubt and shame in what she was doing, Twenty knew that her stubborn refusal to fail would get the best of her. She had willingly volunteered for the operation, knowing full well what it entailed. And once committed to something, she knew she had to see it through.

As another of Twenty-Six's lustful exultations pierced the air, Twenty was reminded that there was a part of her that found the entire experience perversely exciting. How else could she explain how wet she had been the previous day, as well as her early morning masturbation session? The former she could attribute to simply "playing the part", but it in no way accounted for the latter, which was entirely self-serving. It was this notion that worried her, but she could ill afford to focus on her own self-discovery, not with so much on the line.

She approached an empty shower stall and placed her towel and shaving items on the bench in front of it. All the showers were open, with no dividers between each stall. The showerheads themselves were suspended vertically from the ceiling, almost giving the impression that the mailgirls were showering in the rain. Twenty suspected that this was likely done for that very reason.

Twisting the silver knob on the wall, she took a step back into the cold stream of water that poured from above, her body shivering involuntarily as the liquid splashed over her skin. There was only one temperature for bathing, and that was ice cold. It served the dual purpose of cooling the mailgirls down after their runs and causing their nipples to stand at attention; Twenty's had already been hard and the water only served to make them even harder.

She was acutely aware of how she looked, thanks to the mirrored wall in front of her. Having it as a one-way window was a way to give the mailgirls an illusion of privacy, and Twenty suspected that it helped some of them rationalize their jobs. But they all knew that they were being watched; a mailgirl had no privacy while working at Mizutomo Tower. The wall was merely another way of reminding them of that.

Having showered already that morning, Twenty didn't plan on lingering for too long. She lathered up, running her hands over the curves of her body, from her full breasts, then down to her flat stomach, then lower to her long legs. She felt goosebumps underneath her fingertips from the temperature of the water as she tilted her head backwards to let the stream cascade over her naked form, rinsing the suds away. She had noted that some other mailgirls liked to play up their showers for the audience behind the glass; she knew Five was a few stalls down, ass towards the wall and bent over at the waist. The thought of emulating her colleague sent a shiver up her spine that had nothing to do with the cold water.

Fully rinsed, she shut the shower off and took a step back, reaching for the towel on the bench. The small piece of cloth was nowhere near the size of a full bath towel, so Twenty had to use every stitch of it to get herself dry; she suspected that this was likely yet another way to humiliate the mailgirls. As she rubbed the towel over her full breasts, she reflected on just how effective this particular tactic was. Grabbing the rest of her items, she made her way over to a free seat in front of the mirrored wall.

The locker room was devoid of any other mirrors, forcing the mailgirls to use the wall as their sole source of reflection. For some reason, Mistress Henckel had allowed Twenty to ready herself on her own the previous day; she had done it in the relative safety and privacy of Henckel's office. Now, she would have no such comfort or privacy. The thought caused a shiver to run up her spine.

She took a seat on the bench, her ass quivering at the touch of cold metal against her skin. Placing her things next to her, she willed herself to look forward at the mirror. In it, she saw only herself, naked and bare. Her still-damp hair framed her face, her delicate features pensive and tense. Her round breasts rose and fell in rhythm with her breathing, which was shallow and a little hurried. She had naturally assumed a traditional pose upon taking her seat, with her long legs joined together at the knees and drawn off to one side. She had the faintest of tan lines around her breasts and pelvic areas. For the briefest of moments she sat there, knowing that behind her reflection stood a gaggle of men, jostling with each other to get the closest look at her unclothed body and waiting for her to show them even more.

She closed her eyes. In her mind she could see the young businessman who had brushed past her merely half an hour earlier, his boyish face contorted into a leer, lips curled into a lascivious grin as his eyes darted back and forth, searching for her exposed flesh. She also saw the businesswoman, with that haughty and judging stare. Both faces looked upon her, eagerly drinking in as much of her body as they could.

Twenty drew a deep breath and opened her eyes again. Gone were the faces, replaced again by her own reflection. Just get through this. You still have everything to prove, and you've only been here a day. Gritting her teeth, she swung her knees forward to face the mirror, then slowly parted her legs, exposing her silky inner thighs and warm, wet pussy.

Reaching for the towel again, she rubbed it between her legs, attempting to get some sort of exfoliation going before she shaved. The cloth rubbed up against her clit, causing involuntary shivers to run through her body. Biting her lip to fight the sensations, she put the cloth aside and grabbed the gel canister. She emptied a decent amount onto her fingertips, then slid it over the faint hairs on her mound and around the sides of her outer lips. Taking the razor up, she touched it gingerly to her skin and began shaving.

It was something she'd done countless times before, given her background in collegiate swimming. But she had never done it before for an audience, and certainly not one as public as the entire third floor of a major corporate office building. A week ago, it would have been unthinkable to be doing something like this; yet here she was, shaving her pussy while dozens upon dozens of men watched her from behind a glass barrier.

Letting out an involuntary sigh as she drew the last stroke across her skin, she wiped herself down with the towel, then spread her legs a bit wider to make sure she got every bit of hair. Her pussy glistened under the harsh fluorescent light, her delicate pink folds slightly puffy from the friction and warmth. She scooted her backside forward an inch or two to examine her asshole; Mistress Henckel had insisted on bleaching it clean and she had no choice in the matter. It had burned exquisitely; she had never thought such pain would befall that particular part of her anatomy, not even the one time she had adventurously tried anal in college. However, Sixteen had told her the consequences for not following the hairless policy of the mailgirls, and Twenty had no desire to experience those firsthand.

"Giving everyone out there a show?"

The comment startled Twenty to the point she almost dropped her towel, but she recovered her senses long enough to hold on. Turning her head to look upwards at the speaker, she saw the tanned, trim form of Mailgirl Seven's naked body.

Seven was the only redhead among the Mizutomo Tower mailgirls and had been one of the original ten recruits to the program. She was on the short side at five foot three, but her body was well proportioned and suited to running. Her firm C-cup breasts fit her frame nicely and she had a pleasant face, which currently wore an amused expression.

"I don't think I have a choice," Twenty replied with a resigned sigh.

"Isn't that the truth," Seven agreed, inspecting herself in the mirror. "It's only your second day, you'll get used to it."

Twenty wasn't sure it was something she wanted to get used to, but she didn't voice that to her colleague. She ran her hand one last time over her pussy; she was pleased at the smooth touch, but slightly perturbed at the wetness some of her fingers came away with after dipping slightly between the folds of her labia. "You're on the day shift too?" she asked Seven.

Seven nodded; she was bending over to stretch out, her back now to the mirror. "Yeah. Mistress Henckel has assigned me to shadow you today."

This caused Twenty to stop short. "She has? I mean... I thought I was assigned to shadow Sixteen for the week."

The other mailgirl seemed nonplussed; she was more focused on stretching her arms above her head, defining the muscles in her back. "I don't think Sixteen will be in today. And Mistress Henckel seems to think you need guidance; guess you're training went well enough yesterday."

Twenty arched a brow, regarding the redhead with a dubious look. "I wouldn't say it went 'well', per se," she admitted. "I don't think I even know all the positions yet. And I'm not nearly as familiar with the layout of the building as I'd like to be."

"Oh don't worry, you'll still have me, I'll make sure we get to where we need to be on time," Seven assured Twenty. "You'll be taken off probationary status; just means that you're fully searchable to the company for requests, rather than being tied to one of us." She favored the blonde with a small smile, one which only seemed half-real. "Guess this means for today you're truly one of us. Welcome to the club."

"Thanks," Twenty said, unable to keep the hesitance and uncertainty from her voice over the information she'd just received. The whole thing felt off and she couldn't help feeling like there was something behind the scenes. "Is Mistress Henckel here already? I didn't see her come in."

"Yeah, she's here, just hasn't come down for morning inspections yet. Pulled me aside to let me know what was happening today." Seven finished stretching and settled her hands on her hips, her fingers lightly brushing the freshly-inscribed "7" on her skin.

"Did she happen to say why Sixteen might not be in?" Twenty inquired, her mind racing to figure out the reasons.

"No, and I didn't think to ask. Didn't really want to get the whip for being too curious, you know?" Seven tilted her head to stare at Twenty. "Why so interested?"

Twenty briefly thought about telling Seven what she'd seen the previous day with Mansfield leading Seven and what appeared to be another mailgirl into a waiting limousine. She decided against it, something about the redhead's almost cavalier attitude rubbed her the wrong way. "No, I was just wondering. It'll be good to work with you today."

Seven looked like she was about to say something in response when a chime went off; the clock on the wall displayed "7:30". Fifteen minutes until mandatory morning inspection; it would be the only warning the mailgirls would get before Mistress Henckel came down. "Well, here's to having a good day," she said with another half smile before heading off to her locker.

"Yeah, hope so," Twenty responded with more enthusiasm than she felt, watching Seven's bare backside as the redhead walked away. Despite the fact that she was completely naked in the middle of a room along with a dozen other nude women, Twenty was still a CIA-trained agent; her training as well as her instincts told her something was seriously amiss. Her encounter with Mansfield the previous day along with Sixteen's absence didn't feel above board in the slightest. And while she wanted nothing more to throw her clothes back on and start asking pointed questions, she knew to do so would likely cause a lot more problems than it would solve. So there was little else she could do except serve her shift as a naked mailgirl, keeping her eyes and ears open for any clues.