A New Reality

As we stood naked in the middle of Barbara Anderson's office, any pretense that we were colleagues working together on a project was gone. "Take off all of your jewelry and place them on your folded clothes, then get into the standing position you learned in Tokyo," she ordered. After we had complied we stood before her with our feet spread, our hands at our sides, and our gaze lowered to the floor.

"This will be your required uniform as a mailgirl," Barbara said to us. "Full nudity is your uniform and you will be in uniform at all times while in the building with the exception of entering and exiting at the beginning and end of your shift." Barbara circled us now, inspecting every inch of our nude bodies.

"I'm glad to see that neither of you have tattoos," she said. "You're forbidden to get any while under contract. Fingernail and toenail polish is fine, but no more body piercings beyond what you already have." The two of us had only our ears and navels pierced. Barbara ran her fingers through my hair and then moved on to Kelly. "Your hair length is okay for now but if it gets long enough to cover your breasts you'll be required to cut it or tie it into a ponytail."

Barbara then looked down at each of our pubic areas and I had to fight the urge to cover up. "You'll also need to have all body hair below the neck shaved as part of your required grooming standards," she said. My pubic hair was neatly trimmed while Kelly had all but a single narrow strip shaved. "And try to lose the tan lines prior to Monday morning. If you don't have a place to sunbathe nude then find a tanning salon. We'll also check your body mass index regularly to make sure you're not becoming either too fat or too skinny, although I doubt weight gain will be a problem on this job. We just want to make sure you continue to display the same lovely curves as you do today."

If there was any real doubt before that Kelly and I were surrendering significant control of our lives to Barbara and the company it quickly faded away as she spoke.

"Assume the kneeling position," she ordered and we kneeled on her carpeted floor with our knees spread at shoulder width, our backs slightly arched, our hands on our thighs, and our gaze lowered to the floor. This was something else we'd learned at Hiromoto headquarters. It was the standard resting position for a mailgirl when she was waiting new orders.

Barbara tapped the inside of each of my knees with her right foot indicating she wanted them wider. "Good," she said after I'd complied. "Since we're on a tight schedule and you're already familiar with them, we're basically going to adopt all of Hiromoto's policies for now. That means assuming either the standing or kneeling position while awaiting instructions. Keep your gaze lowered and avoid eye contact. Everyone in the building will be considered your superior so address them as 'sir' or 'ma'am.' Speak only when spoken to and no covering up at any time."

As I kneeled submissively before Barbara I felt my heart thumping heavily in my chest and intense feelings of arousal began to rise. It was the same thing I'd felt that afternoon in Tokyo as a nude mailgirl among the clothed Hiromoto employees. As much as I wanted to deny it I knew now that being **** to surrender my clothes and, to a large degree, my freedom was a huge turn on for me. I wasn't sure if I liked or hated this, I just knew that it ran counter to the self-image I'd had of myself as a strong, independent woman.

"Here are the plans for the coming week," Barbara said. "Hiromoto techs will continue testing the software and equipment under the pretext of improving our wifi network. On Friday morning we'll announce the program to those working here in the tower and begin training people on using the system and how to interact with mailgirls. On Friday afternoon we'll announce it to the rest of the company and to the media via a press release. If we feel additional training and testing is required we'll do it over the weekend. Mailgirls goes live on Monday morning at eight a.m."

Since returning from Tokyo the thought of potentially becoming a mailgirl had still felt somewhat distant and abstract, but it was becoming very real now. This was really going to happen.

"As for you girls," Barbara continued, "you won't be needed for any of it. In fact, I'd rather keep you two out of the building as much as possible until Monday. I do have plenty of homework for you though." Barbara retrieved a couple of packets from a drawer and placed them on her desk. "You're each getting a pamphlet outlining the rules and responsibilities of a mailgirl. Read it, learn it, live it. There are also floor plans here for the tower with the office codes used to identify where you'll need to go for pickups and deliveries along with the locations of the Mailgirls kneeling pads on each floor. I want those memorized by Friday along with the names of the building's top executives, managers, and aides."

As Barbara gave us our marching orders I glanced over at Kelly. Her panic seemed to have subsided now and she had a look of sullen resignation on her face.

"I also want you two ready to hit the ground running next Monday morning. That means you need to get yourself physically prepared over the next week. Lots of strength and cardio training. You should work out in the nude if possible, but if that's not practical then you need to at least do it barefoot to get your feet prepared. I don't want either of you sidelined with blisters once we get started."

Barbara leaned back against her desk and looked down on us. "Since there's only two of you it would be silly to assign you numbers, but we'll revisit that if and when we expand the program. So Kelly, Danica, do you have any questions?"

"No ma'am," we each said in unison.

"Good," she said. "Get dressed and be back here at nine on Friday for another uniform inspection and a quiz on your homework. You begin your new careers Monday morning."

As I left Barbara's office to begin what would become both the shortest and longest week of my life I sensed I was stepping into a new reality. It was one that threatened to burn away any prior conceptions I had of myself leaving me with no easy path back to ever being that person again.

I was now a mailgirl.