Reality Strikes

I followed Anna out of Barbara's office. Since we had no immediate orders we began walking toward the ninth floor Mailgirls mat. "Wow Anna," I began to say. "I don't know how we're..." Anna halted and spun around to face me.

"That's not how you address me, Nine," she said sharply.

I stood there momentarily stunned. "Um, we're at work now as mailgirls, Anna. We're equals here."

"No we're not, Nine," Anna replied. "You heard Barbara. We're not pretending or playacting any more. This is real. You're beneath me now all the time. You agreed to it so I'm not going to let you break the rules and then have to lie to Barbara about it. She'll know."

I started to open my mouth to respond but I recognized the look of stubborn resolve on Anna's face. It was the same look I'd seen after we'd first met as I tried to talk her out of wanting to become a mailgirl. I'd seen that look at other times since then and I knew that once Anna made up her mind about something she was almost impossible to sway. I lowered my gaze. "Yes, ma'am," I said to her. "I'm sorry."

Anna nodded. "Okay," she replied. "But I'm going to have to punish you now when we get home."

I glanced up briefly into her face searching for a sign that she was joking but there was none. I lowered my eyes again. "Yes, ma'am."

The MMU on Anna's arm lit up with a pickup order. She glanced at it, then turned and took off for the stairwell leaving me standing alone in the middle of the ninth floor of the tower surrounded by men and women in expensive power suits and designer dresses. My nudity, the numbers inked on my skin, and now the collar attached to my neck left no doubt about my status among these people. I slowly made my way past them toward the Mailgirls mat where I assumed my subservient kneeling position, waiting for new orders.

I looked up and caught a woman at a nearby desk staring at me. She smirked and shook her head as our eyes met, then returned to her work. I lowered my head in shame wondering how I would react if our roles were reversed, if I was the well-dressed employee and she was a naked mailgirl. I'd probably have the same feelings of contempt for her as she felt for me.

As I knelt there Anna's words kept running through my head. We're not pretending or playacting any more. This is real. For the first time I think I really understood that, understood what I'd gotten myself into. This had always been something of a game to me until now, a phase in my life where I'd explore my fantasies after which I'd return to the real world. I'd still been thinking of it that way even just a few minutes ago in Barbara's office when I quickly accepted all of the new restrictions that she was imposing on me. But now I was finally beginning to understand the truth: Barbara had every intention of turning me into her slave. Permanently.

I thought about the story that Barbara had told me about her Psych study involving students acting as prison guards and prisoners. It was obvious that she was now running a real life version of that with Anna acting as the prison guard and me as the prisoner. I'm sure Barbara believed that we would both soon begin internalizing these roles and if my interaction with Anna just now was any indication she was right.

Although Barbara had initially been dishonest and deceptive in luring me into the Mailgirls program she'd been remarkably honest with me once I'd become entrapped. She had told me in vivid detail exactly what she had planned for me, how she was going to strip me of my clothes, my name, my possessions, and fit me with a slave collar that told the world that I belonged to her. At first it had seemed so implausible but now it was all coming to pass and was happening far faster than I ever could have imagined. It was no longer some abstract fantasy from a distant future, it was happening right now. Anna was merely my surrogate master for now. It was only a matter of time before Barbara took her place.

What had always sustained me before was the belief that once my two year contract was up I would be free. I could continue on with the game if I wanted or I could leave, but either way I'd no longer be under contractual constraints to prevent me from controlling my fate. But Barbara had also told me that I would sign another contract after this one expired and then after that she would need no more contracts to keep me bound to her. I don't know how she planned to do it but I knew now that if I remained on the path I was on she would make that happen. After seeing how quickly she had accomplished everything else I'd be a fool to believe otherwise. My window for escaping this fate was closing rapidly and it might shut completely later today once my ID cards and bank cards were locked up out of my reach.

What I should do, I told myself, is grab my credit cards, drivers license and passport when I get back to the condo, put on some of Anna's clothes, then get into my car and drive far, far away. But could I do that? And then what? Spend years trying to pay off the burdensome debt from having broken my contract? And what company would ever hire me now as a prospective management candidate after having spent the last six months as a naked delivery girl? There were dozens, if not hundreds, of nude photos of me as a mailgirl floating around the internet now that would never go away. The MBA I'd worked so long and hard to earn wasn't worth the paper it was printed on any more.

I felt the weight of the collar around my neck. Although it wasn't constrictive I was suddenly having trouble breathing and had to fight off the urge to try to tear it off of my neck. I remembered Kelly's panic attack in Barbara's office and wondered if that's what was happening to me now. I closed my eyes and began to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself. What finally saved me was the vibration of the MMU on my arm alerting me to a pickup order.

I had a pickup on the third floor. Express delivery, of course, which meant I had little time to get there. I leapt to my feet and began jogging toward the stairwell, then down the stairs. The movement helped me get my head back into a familiar place as I felt the stairs beneath my bare feet and my breasts bouncing with each step as my mind focused on the path ahead of me.

For the next thirty minutes or so I went from one delivery order to another, moving throughout the DDE complex from wing to wing, department to department, delivering the mail. I entered a zone where the only thing that mattered was the next step, the next deadline, the next delivery order. It was at some point during this run that I realized again that, despite everything, I actually liked the job. The excitement of being nude in such a public place and in front of so many people had not diminished over time and my body felt like a well-tuned machine. On top of that my ability to focus on the task at hand had never been better. I'd always thought before becoming a mailgirl that I was a hard worker but looking back now it struck me just how much of my work day was spent texting on my cell phone, reading Facebook, surfing the web, or gabbing and gossiping with my co-workers. As a mailgirl all of that had been stripped away and I was left with only my duties and, literally, the bare essentials required to accomplish them. I guess there's a kind of zen in that type of simplicity.

If not for everything else surrounding it I might have been quite content to continue indefinitely as a mailgirl. It was only after I finally got a break between pickup orders that all my previous worries flooded back in.

As I was walking toward the Mailgirls mat on the second floor of the south wing I saw a Japanese technician on a ladder working on one of the sensors that were used to track our movements. One of the stipulations of the contract with Hiromoto Industries was that only Hiromoto techs were allowed to work on the equipment for proprietary reasons. I had seen this particular man before but had never talked to him and didn't know his name. An idea suddenly came to me and I walked over to where he was working. "Excuse me, sir," I said to him as he turned to look down on me. "Is it possible for you to put me in touch with Mariko Isakawa?"

The man turned and returned to his work and I wasn't sure if he understood me or even spoke English. "Yes," he said finally as he continued to work on the sensor.

"When can you do it, sir?" I asked.

"Go," he replied. "I will summon you when it is time."