Showtime

I froze, unable to move. I was being asked to take a shower and shave my most intimate area in front of my fellow DDE employees and I didn't know if I could do it. How many people were out there watching behind that mirror? A couple of dozen? A couple of hundred? I had no idea. What finally got me moving was Donna's hand on the small of my back and a shove.

I stumbled out in front of the mirror and as I walked tentatively toward my locker I could hear the muffled sound of whistles and cheering on the other side of it. I opened the locker and stared into it, then closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to calm down. This isn't real, I told myself. You're just an actress playing the role of Mailgirl Nine. This isn't really you doing this so just play the part as it's been written for you. I wish I could say this worked and that I disappeared into the role, but as I retrieved my shower items and closed the locker I knew that it hadn't. I was still me and this all still seemed very, very real.

In the shower as I adjusted the water temperature and prepared to step in, a thought occurred to me that finally did help though. It was something that Barbara told me yesterday. Someday time will erase everything that happens here today, so why live life in half measures? For the first time I think I really understood what she was saying. This was going to happen right now regardless of whether I did it full of angst and embarrassment or simply allowed myself to live for the moment and enjoy something I'd never forget. Either way time would eventually bury this place beneath the barren sands so why not surrender myself to whatever emotions flowed naturally through me without assigning guilt or shame to them? If I'm really a submissive and an exhibitionist then why not revel in that instead of constantly fighting to suppress feelings that could give me pleasure?

The moment I gave myself permission to be who I am my anxiety melted away. If they want a show then, fuck it, I'll give them a show.

I stepped beneath the shower stream and felt the warm water cascade over me. I poured shampoo into my palm and worked it into my hair, then took a step toward the mirror, closed my eyes and slowly massaged it deep into my scalp with both hands. After my hair was saturated with the shampoo I turned around, lowered my head beneath the water, placed both hands against the wall and bent forward to let the suds stream down my back and swirl down the drain beneath my feet.

Next I poured body soap into my palms and began rubbing it into my skin. I lingered for awhile on my breasts, kneading them, lifting them up beneath each hand, teasing each nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I worked the soap into every crack and crevice, turning slowly to allow my audience to view my wet, soapy body from every angle. By surrendering myself completely to the moment my shower had become a very sensual experience for me and I allowed my arousal to grow without attempting to suppress it.

Next came the part of my daily shower ritual I'd been dreading most, but I wouldn't allow even this to make me feel shame. There was no place to sit in the shower other than the floor so I squatted down, spread my legs, and leaned back against the wall. My vagina was in full view of the mirror now as I applied the shaving cream and picked up the razor. Slowly, carefully I shaved around the vulva. When I'd finished I rinsed off the remaining shaving cream, then picked up another bottle and drizzled baby oil over my pubic area.

I rubbed the oil into the skin and my body jerked as my fingers brushed over my clit. I let out a moan when it happened a second time. I allowed this to happen several more times and briefly considered masturbating to an orgasm right there in front of my audience, but I wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

When I'd finished I stood up, rinsed my body one final time and turned off the water. As I stepped out of the shower I could see Donna on the other side of the room staring at me wide-eyed and slack-jawed and I had to suppress a smile. Then I turned to look at myself in the mirror. The image looking back at me was of a stunningly beautiful nude woman radiating sexuality. It was the same image I knew the people on the other side were seeing. It's what I wanted them to see. I wanted them to see everything.

I continued my show. I toweled myself off, then blow dried and brushed my hair and applied my makeup. I did this in the sink area right in front of the mirror giving my audience an intimate and close up view. When I'd finished I looked directly into the mirror and smiled, then turned and walked away.

"Can you apply the numbers for me, ma'am?" I asked Donna.

"Um, yeah," she replied still looking dumbfounded at what she'd just seen. Before she could move, though, the door opened and Barbara entered the room.

"You can head back to the tower, Donna," she said to her. "I'll take over." Donna left the room without a word leaving Barbara and I alone together and I wondered if I was in trouble. One look into her face revealed the answer. She was ecstatic.

Barbara smiled and shook her head. "You know I was foolish to think I could ever reduce you to being just another mailgirl. No matter what number I assign you or what I say or do you'll always be a star. You're my star."

I smiled, then lowered my eyes humbly to the floor. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Follow me, Nine," Barbara ordered returning to her businesslike demeanor. She walked past me and I fell in behind her. We walked past the shower area, then through a second exit door that led directly into the large room where Gangsta was produced. As we entered the room I was able to glance into the window to the locker room confirming what I already knew. Everything in the room, including the shower area, could be easily seen from this side.

My audience had returned to their desks and cubicles after my show had ended, but as Barbara led me through the middle of the room all eyes were drawn to me once again. I'd been here before in my earlier role with the company, but never like this. I was completely naked without even numbers on my skin or an MMU strapped to my arm. This room had produced hundreds of millions of dollars for DumpsterDawg Enterprises over the years and now I was their reward.

As I followed one step behind Barbara with my eyes lowered I was reminded of what she'd told me her endgame was for me. It no longer seemed far fetched at all. She was showing me off right now to all of these people as her nude submissive, and if she could make this moment happen here was it really that crazy to believe that she couldn't also make it happen in the world out beyond these walls? And as I followed her I realized that I wanted it to happen. The months of public nudity, the whipping, the wave after wave of humiliations over the past two days, and the brief moments of kindness and honesty she'd shown me had all worked together to wear down my defenses. I knew now that I wanted the future that she was offering me. I wanted to be hers, for her to possess me.

Barbara continued to lead me through the large open room until we reached the door to an office on the other side. She opened the door and turned to me.

"There are a couple of gentlemen in here who would like to talk to you. They want to put you into the game."