another view from the bottom
“AY - AY - AY - AY - AY!” Clutching her butt, Yingtai ran circles around the atrium, to the broad smiles of Tami, Huiqing, Xifeng and Ngo-kwang, standing on their platform at the south end. “AY - AY - AY - AY - AY!” Her shouts, and the slapping of her feet on the terrazzo floor, echoed in the huge space, getting fainter as she receded to perigee (or maybe “peri-platform”), louder as she approached apo-platform.
It was all in fun. Yingtai had gotten an enema from Xifeng, to prepare for anal penetration with that large-ish blue candle. It had become Yingtai’s favorite sport recently, and she had carefully carved “ribs” in the candle so as to maximize its “utility”. But Xifeng had sneaked ginger into the enema, which burned like hell. Yingtai hurriedly squirted into the toilet and then took off as if she had been stuck in the butt with a needle.
“I’ll get you!!” Upon completing her fifth circumnavigation -- a total of almost a kilometer, which even at a sprint a Mailgirl could do without breaking a sweat -- Yingtai, breasts bouncing wildly, hopped onto the platform, Xifeng in her sights. Xifeng jumped off and tried to make her escape but Yingtai with her gingerfied rectum could run faster. Xifeng was caught and wrestled to the ground. Her mouth was pinned down by Yingtai’s vagina and her ribs tickled mercilessly. Her nipples were pulled and twisted and she was violated below with two fingers. She retaliated with quick tongue flicks which, after a minute of heavy breathing, gave the result Yingtai would have gotten with the candle. She lifted her head up to the glass ceiling with a loud shriek that was boastful, like a lion(ess) who has caught her prey.
It was 7:15 a.m., after their upper-body workout with the dumbbells, and the usual breakfast of whole wheat toast, grapefruit juice and non-fat yogurt. Yingtai and Xifeng, sweating and their hair a mess, returned and another enema, this one tinged with milk, soothed Yingtai’s rectum of fire. Now the five Mailgirls settled down for the morning footstretch. After all that commotion the atrium was now suddenly quiet.
From now until 7:45 (when the maintenance crew showed up) was special. There was no sound except the creaking of the building’s metal and glass shell as it expanded in the rays of the sun, the only time of day this phenomenon could be heard. The Mailgirls, normally gregarious, were quiet during this time. One of the rare comments made was by Ngo-kwang. She was not the religious type, but said that the vast, quiet interior space, with the complex and beautiful architecture, reminded her of a cathedral.
Quiet time ended with the echoing thunk of the front door being unlocked. It was Mr. Ganbaatar, an old Mongolian man who was the chief custodian, and his young assistant Jin. Jin, as usual, got as many glances at the naked girls as he could before following into the custodians’ office, which was pretty big. During the height of the business day there were 21 custodians tending to the 26 floors, which contained 814 Hsa officers and staff, working from 536 offices and 14 conference rooms.