The rupture in space-time consists. I just can’t close it.
Yesterday I was contacted by a Ferengi trader. He tried to sell me the thirteenth edition of the rules of aquisition. I wasn’t interested. All I’m interested in are letters from a certain Dutch Blonde naked Mailgirl.
The Ferengi said, that all Ferengi women were naked. I said I still wasn’t interested. Where is the fun if everybody is naked, that means that nobody stands out.
Then Fifteen’s next letter came through…
Letters to Nine (3)
Leiden, Tuesday 12th of August 20xx
Now, that my initial rush of emotions have subsided I am feeling even better!
As suggested I used all the week-end to uhm… “take care of myself”, you certainly know the feeling. If I’m feeling like a boiling pot of water after one day of Mailgirl-duty, I don’t want to know how you must feel after serving a whole week!
When I came into the office yesterday morning I immediately sensed that a lot had changed. First, most guys had stopped to strip me with their looks. Probably because they now know how I look under my clothes, so they don’t need to guess anymore.
I had feared that people would start treating me badly after Friday, but that wasn’t the case at all! Everybody who had been present on Friday treated me very kindly and with respect. If I’m perfectly honest, I feel I’m treated now better then I ever been treated before. I mean, nobody treated me badly before, but I had been kind of invisible to everybody… I had been just that quiet, average blonde girl who mostly sat alone.
That had changed now. Those who got a liking to my Mailgirl-performance praised me openly and those who remained neutral at least respected my courage and bravery to bare my soul and body to them as I had done.
The only ones still ogling me with open hostility and disdain were those four old crones manning our extensive archives. They couldn’t shut up telling everybody that they would never attend a Mailgirl-Friday. “That’s okay”, one of the younger female coworkers snapped eventually. “Nobody wants you there anyway.” That shut them up very quickly.
When I looked to her she said to me, “I wasn’t there on Friday… but I heard you guys had a lot of fun. I’ll coming this week, ok?” She gave me a wink.
I didn’t know what to say. The last thing she needed was my approval, of course. I’m just a bloody Mailgirl, I’m in charge of anything.
“Yes of course, I look forward to it!” I managed to respond after a brief moment of hesitation.
So you see Nine, we are starting to win them over, one by one… and those who really don’t want to be around the program… those should be easily satisfied by additional days of remote work.
Antje and I had yesterday a very long talk about the Mailgirl-program we evaluated the strong and weak points of our performance on Friday. It took us a full two hours, but I feel it was worth it.
“You did great!”, Antje said “but this Friday you NEED to eat something before you come to work! We can’t have you going unconscious, that would be devastating for the program.”
I understood of course. I mean a Mailgirl-program having it’s only Mailgirl fainting on her very first day would have been an absolute nightmare. If that actually had happened we probably would have had to abandon the program before it really had started.
“I think we need to better take care of you. You’re our most important asset”, Antje added.“ I wouldn’t argue with THAT.
“I think you should get in touch with my dietist…” she said. “On the company dime of course!”, she added when she received my concern.
“Are you insinuating that I don’t put enough effort in this?” I asked, partly offended. I hat lost about 2kg (about 4.5 pounds) in the last week. I think that I am in my best shape in years, trending still upwards.
“Oh no… I’m more concerned that you overdoing things.” That somewhat calmed me down.
“Listen, I know we put a lot of pressure on you. Looks are important as a Mailgirl, I get that. But you need to stay healthy… I need to assure that you stay healthy because I’m responsible for the Mailgirlprogram and that means I’m responsible for YOU!” She pointed at me with a look full of concern.
My heart melted a little bit. It feels so good having somebody who cares about me.
“So I need you to have an appointment with me and my dietist on Thursday after work, ok?”
About our coming Mailgirl-Friday: Antje insisted that we keep it on the light side. We still need to win more people over, ease them into the mindset of being my superiors and letting me serve and entertain them. So it seems that we both will be all smiles and cheerful again. That’s fine by me. Better slow and steady, then running the program full speed into the ground, I think.
When Antje explained that we only would introduce one additional rule I was relieved, but also a little bit disappointed. I mean on one hand, having more rules would make things obviously harder on me. But on the other hand. Having to suffer is pretty much part of the Mailgirl-experience, isn’t it?
If being a Mailgirl was easy it would also be pretty boring.
For some reason Antje understands exactly. I’ll have to ask her sometime. “Listen, I know what’s expected of me.” She said. “I promise I’ll channel my inner bitchy slave driver boss for you and crank it up to 11…”, she lowered her voice a little bit and added: “Just for you.”
And then she continued in her most sultry voice… “Make no mistake, I’ll take away every shred of control about your life, your willing to give up… and then I’ll convince you to give away some more.”
I gasped helplessly.
“You may not feel like much of a Mailgirl right now, but believe me… we will give you so many rules that it won’t be fun anymore and I’ll enforce every – one – of -them. Just some patience!”
Jesus. This woman certainly knows how to make a Mailgirl blush. Then she doubled down: “15, Present!”
The drills kicked in immediately: Within a second I found myself with my hands folded behind my back, elbows pushed wide open and my legs spread shoulder wide. I was rewarded with a bright smile which made me happier than it should have.
Then Antje became serious again: “Never forget: When your fun stops, my fun will be only beginning. I’ll control you, I’ll punish you and I’ll humiliate you again and again and again. You will hate me…” then she smirked… “You’ll just love me just a tad more.”
I needed to stifle a deep moan hearing her words. Antje sure as heck knows you to get to me.
“Apropos loving it… I’ll bet you’re leaking like a faucet down there, am I right?”
“Yes, Ma’am!”, I croaked.
“I thought as much…” she smirked. “That’s what your next rule is all about. I’ve let you sit on my chair last Friday because you nearly fainted, remember?”
I nodded embarrassed. I even tried to apologize but she didn’t let me.
“That will not happen again, am I right?!”
“No Ma’am.” I readily answered.
“You’re damn right it won’t, because of TWO reasons! First we’ll have a meeting with my dietist and you will do EVERYTHING she’ll tell you to do, right?!”
“Of course Ma’am!”, I answered.
“Good Girl!”, she said. That brought another shiver down my spine.
“But secondly from now on Mailgirls may not use the office furniture,… for sanitary reasons. Do you agree?”
A totally understood of course. Honestly, it’s about time Mailgirl-mats will make their entry into our office.
I’ll let you know how my second Mailgirl-Friday went!