Lin

I rose to my feet, turned around and looked into the face of a beautiful Asian woman in her early twenties. Lin had lovely brown eyes, manicured eyebrows, and perfectly coiffed dark brown hair that framed a very pretty oval face. Unlike many of the others I'd seen on this floor she also seemed to have something of a fashion sense. She wore a black blouse unbuttoned just far enough to provide a hint of cleavage, a pair of tight skinny jeans, and on her feet were leather dress sandals with four inch heels. Her makeup was lightly but skillfully applied and her earrings, necklace, and bracelets all fit in perfectly with her casually fashionable attire. Lin was clearly someone who put some thought into her attire each morning and I guessed she was a receptionist or secretary of some kind.

Lin looked me over for a moment then turned toward the door. "Follow me Mailgirl Nine."

For the second time that morning I found myself walking naked through the large Gangsta production room submissively following one step behind another woman. We weren't more than a few steps out of the office before Lin started talking.

"I know why those two assigned me to babysit you today," she said without turning around as we continued to walk. "Ever since the meeting they went to yesterday Stimpy has been putting a full court press on me to become a mailgirl. He's such a perv. I heard he'd get some kind of bonus for it. Is that true?"

"Yes, ma'am. Ten thousand dollars."

"Ha! And he was telling me what a great opportunity this is for me with all the money I'd make when all he wants to do is get his own grubby hands on money himself. Plus he'd get to see me naked which I know he's been fantasizing about ever since he hired me. The crazy thing is I'm actually considering it."

"You are, ma'am?"

"Sure. I could definitely use the money. It's not like this job is paying me anything."

"May I ask what you do now, ma'am?"

"Technically I'm Stimpy's assistant but really I'm just the department gopher. I run around doing errands, delivering items, and picking up sandwiches for Ren and Stimpy and their cohorts. So I've basically been a mailgirl for almost two years, I've just been doing it with my clothes on. I might as well take them off and make a lot more money doing the same thing."

"Ma'am, you know you'd have to shower and shave in front of all your co-workers, right?"

"Yeah, I saw your little show this morning. That would be weird shaving my pussy every day in front of these creeps, no doubt. That would take some getting use to. And my mom would kill me. The nudity wouldn't bother me, though. I love being naked. And it's not like most of the guys don't already spend half the day imagining what I look like naked anyway."

As we continued walking Lin kept up her monologue. "I'm just so damn sick of my job. I have my degree in computer program design and I've been writing code since I was ten, but since DDE doesn't hire programmers without experience I took a job as Stimpy's assistant to get my foot in the door. He promised me that after a year he'd consider me for a programming job and that was almost two years ago."

"Why won't he consider you, ma'am?"

"Because he's sexist just like most of the management in this building. I guess they figure having nice tits gets in the way of being able to write code. Ninety percent of the programmers and designers here are men and the women they do hire are usually dykes with purple hair, tatts, and piercings all over their bodies. A well-groomed woman who takes a shower every day doesn't fit their image."

"And you think running around naked in front of them for the next two years would make them any less sexist, ma'am?"

"No. I just want a job doing what I was trained to do. If that takes being a mailgirl for two years I'd do it as long as they guaranteed in writing that I'd get a programming job after my contract is up. Do you think they'd do that?"

"I don't know, ma'am. Maybe. But would you really want to work with people who've all seen you running around naked?"

"I don't give a shit about that. Hell, I'd work naked right now as a programmer if that's what it takes."

By the time we reached the elevator and Lin pushed the down button I'd already learned a lot about her. What I'd learned first and foremost was that she was a chatterbox with absolutely no filter between her brain and her mouth. The whole time she'd been bitching about her job, her boss, her co-workers, the company's sexism, and shaving her pussy in front of "these creeps" we'd been walking through the floor in clear earshot of many of her co-workers. She seemed to have no inhibitions about nudity and even less about expressing her opinions. The first trait would make her an ideal mailgirl while the second could get her into a lot of trouble. If Barbara got annoyed by Kelly's bitching and insolence then Lin had the potential to be Kelly times ten.

Another initial impression I had of Lin was that I liked her. She was one of the few people I'd met here lately who wasn't either leering at me or treating me condescendingly. She spoke to me like I was a real person rather than a mindless bimbo or a fuck toy. I decided I'd make sure she understood what she was getting into if she really wanted to become a mailgirl.

Lin kept talking on the elevator trip down to the second floor and all the way to the Photography department. I learned that she was of Vietnamese descent and her grandfather had been a high ranking government official who had barely escaped with his family during the fall of Saigon. She'd been born and raised in this country and was fully Americanized to the consternation of her parents who tended to be more traditional. She was also a hard core gamer who loved to smoke weed while playing an online game called Dota 2, which I'd never heard of, and was part of the modding community. In her spare time she'd helped write several popular mods for Gangsta and other games. Not being a gamer or programmer myself some of what she told me went right over my head. What little I did know about those things came from what I'd learned in helping to market DDE's games.

A wide-eyed receptionist stared at me as we entered the Photography department. "Nine here has an appointment to get some pictures taken," Lin said to her.

"Why is she nude?" the receptionist asked.

"She's a mailgirl. She's supposed to have an appointment that was made for her by Gangsta."

"And her name is Nine?" the woman asked incredulously.

"I've got this Dana," a man said as he emerged from the corridor behind the receptionist desk. "Come," he said pointing to me. "You can wait out here," he told Lin.

I followed him down the corridor and into a studio toward the end of the hall. It was a relatively small studio without any furniture and the walls were all covered in white panel. "My name's Dave," he said to me. He was a middle aged man with graying hair and a no-nonsense professional attitude. "Have you ever done any professional modeling?"

"No sir," I replied. Many people had asked me that over the years. I'd had offers to do it, and had even had photographers hand me their card out on the street, but I'd always been so focused on my degree and career that I'd never done it.

"That's surprising based on your looks, but that's probably a good thing. I don't need you striking any professional poses or sexy looks. We just need photos of your face and body. The animators will use software to manipulate your expressions in the game so try to maintain a neutral expression. I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you into some embarrassing positions but I need to get shots of everything."

"Yes sir," I replied, a little unnerved by the thought of exposing "everything" to his camera.

Dave placed me in the center of the empty studio and began taking photographs of me from every angle. Lots of people had snapped photos of me as a mailgirl with their cellphones but exposing myself like this to a professional photographer felt different. I knew these photos would capture every feature, flaw, and nuance of my body in high definition.

After taking many photos with me just standing with my arms at my sides he had me get into different mailgirls positions for more pictures. First was the standing position with my arms behind my back and my feet spread. Next came the inspection position as I put my hands behind my head and raised up on my toes. Finally came the kneeling position.

When he'd finished with these Dave said, "Okay now we're going to have to do some of the more embarrassing positions. I need you to sit down and spread your legs."

"Yes sir." Once again I was DDE's naked little puppet to be manipulated in any way the company chose. The photographer got down on his knees and began taking close up pictures of my shaved pussy and I felt a combination of shame and arousal rushing through my body. The confidence I'd managed to talk myself into during my shower had disappeared again and I felt helplessly exposed. After he was done there he ordered me onto my knees with my legs spread and my head down and began taking pictures of me from behind. Are they really going to put that into the game, I wondered, or are these most intimate and humiliating pictures just intended for this guy's personal collection? Although Dave hadn't been anything but professional so far he was starting to give me the creeps.

After finishing photographing my pussy from every possible angle Dave stood up and began placing his camera into his bag. I got back up on my feet anticipating that we were done. "Would you like a break?" he asked me.

"Um, no sir. I'm fine. Is there more?"

"Yes," he replied. "Those shots were with a digital camera. We need to do another round with a 3D camera." I groaned inwardly as I heard this. And then we repeated everything a second time.

I'd been in the studio for about an hour when I finally emerged and found Lin looking bored as she scrolled through her cellphone. "Finally," she said as she saw me and jumped to her feet. "Was that guy sketching you freehand or something? We've got to get to Organic Motion."

Once again we walked down a busy corridor past the usual leering, contemptuous, and astonished stares I'd grown used to over the past three months. "Well at least I know now what kind of reactions I'll be getting if I become a mailgirl," Lin laughed. After a quick restroom break we reached the part of the building where the company's motion capturing studios were located. When we entered the office we were greeted by yet another perturbed female receptionist. This one didn't seem surprised by my nudity, though.

"You're late," she said.

"The photographer took forever," Lin said. "It's probably the first time he's had the chance to do gyno shots of a gorgeous naked model so he wanted to make it last. We came straight here."

The receptionist didn't respond but picked up the phone and spoke a few words to someone on the other end. A couple of minutes later a woman entered. "Hi, I'm Amelia," she said in a friendly manner. "I take it you're Nine?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"How did I guess," she laughed. "Follow me."

"Can I come, too?" Lin asked.

"Why not?" Amelia replied. She led the two of us back to a control room. Inside was a good looking African-American man who broke out into a broad grin when he saw me. "This is Martin," Amelia said. "He'll be our tech for this session."

"Hey," Martin said as he reached out to shake my hand. I looked at it awkwardly.

"You're not supposed to touch the mailgirls," Lin said.

"Ah, sorry," Martin said as he withdrew his hand and held both palms up and outward in a sign of surrender. "I guess I'm not up on my Mailgirls etiquette yet."

"That's okay sir," I told him, feeling like an untouchable. Everything in the Mailgirls world was designed to separate us from others.

So far Amelia and Martin seemed personable enough and I turned my attention to a window that looked into what I assumed was the studio where the motion capturing would be taking place. It was a high ceilinged, white paneled room with a green floor and looked similar to the photography studio I'd just been in, but larger. The two side walls had multiple cameras at both floor level and approximately eye level. Up above were more cameras hanging from metal bars, and in front of the window there were several metal stands holding even more cameras. There were no cameras on the rear wall which was used as the background.

"Why don't we give Nine a demonstration of what this will look like, Martin?" Amelia said. "Fire it up." Martin punched a few keys and a black image of the white room appeared on a large monitor, kind of like a digital version of a photographic negative. Amelia entered a door into the studio and appeared on the screen as a white stick figure with white dots at all the major joints, as well as on her head, her hands, and down her spine. She turned to the camera and began waving her arms and jumping around and I could see the stick figure on the screen moving in unison to her movements.

"That's pretty cool," Lin said.

"Yeah," Martin replied. "No mo-cap suit or markers. Anyone can go in there and we can capture their movements."

"So it wouldn't matter if Nine was naked or clothed when she's in there?"

"Not a bit as far as capturing her movements," Martin said. "It might matter to the company, though. We were told she's not allowed to wear anything ever. Not while on company property anyway."

"Holy shit!" Lin laughed. "What the hell did you do to piss them off, Nine?"

"It's a long story, ma'am," I said. And getting longer all the time.

Amelia emerged from the mo-cap room. "Your turn," she said to me. "Just go in there and I'll tell you what to do."

I walked into the room, turned to face the window and could see Amelia, Martin, and Lin staring at me on the other side. "Start out by going into your standing position," Amelia said through a speaker. She had me do this a number of times from different angles. Then she had me do the same for both the inspection position and kneeling position. After that she had me walk around the room for awhile, then run around, back and forth.

"Okay, good," she said. "Now we're just going to wing it since I don't know exactly what movements they'll use in the game. Do some dancing for me."

"What kind of dancing, ma'am?" I asked.

"Various kinds. Fast, slow, sexy. Give me a variety."

I started moving to an imaginary beat, putting on a high tech peep show for my audience. The rhythmic movement felt good. After so many weeks as a mailgirl my body thrived on movement; movement and nudity had become its natural state. It suddenly struck me that if I was forced back into wearing clothes and sitting in a cubicle all day it would feel like a cage to me. For all of the restrictions that Barbara had placed on my life, in many ways it had also been liberating. She'd forced me into a simpler, more primitive state, freeing me from much of the minutiae and sensory overload that threatened to swamp modern lives like waves crashing over the bow of a tiny boat. My life was relatively simple now. I breathed, I moved, I served, I obeyed.

I danced.