Chapter 6

A couple of weeks had slipped by since I’d started my new position as a naked mailgirl. After spending the initial days shadowing Sarah, I was eventually assigned my own watch and forced to find my way alone through the maze of offices. The sensation of exposure was even more acute without Sarah at my side, the sting of shame remained fresh, yet that vulnerability was exactly what made the job so distinctive. One could never truly become accustomed to such raw openness.

My wristwatch buzzed softly, signaling another delivery assignment. With a deep breath, I pushed open the heavy door leading into the stairwell—the only means of travel permitted for us mailgirls—and began ascending to the third floor. Each step brought a renewed awareness of my bareness, cool air caressing every inch of my skin. By now, I’d grown used to the curious glances and occasional leers from passing coworkers, though their attention still sent prickles across my flesh.

Emerging onto the third floor, I moved briskly down the corridor past the busy workstations. Despite becoming a familiar sight, I still drew lingering stares that sent shivers of arousal across my skin. At Priya’s office, I rapped lightly on the door. Her voice called out from within—a thick Indian accent coloring her words—inviting me inside.

Stepping into her office, I found myself face-to-face with Priya Desai, whose sharp business attire and commanding presence filled the room. Her warm brown eyes met mine with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper, something that set my pulse racing.

I assumed the proper stance, arms clasped behind my back and posture perfectly upright, before asking, “Do you have a package for me, ma’am?”

Priya’s eyes traveled slowly across my body. “Yes, I do,” she replied coolly. Reaching into her desk drawer, she retrieved a small box and held it out to me. As I stepped forward to take it from her manicured fingers, I noticed how her gaze lingered on certain parts of my exposed skin. The encounter felt charged with unspoken tension as we exchanged the parcel.

Priya: “I admire you Amanda,” her rich Indian accent coloring every word. I tilted my head slightly, uncertainty flickering across my face.

Amanda: “Ma’am?”

Priya: “It takes a great deal of bravery to do what you’re doing, presenting yourself so openly like that.”

Amanda: “Thank you ma’am”

Priya: “Thank heavens we live in a country where we can make unconventional practices commonplace. In India such actions might lead to severe consequences for women.”

Amanda: “So, you’re not against the mailgirl initiative ma’am?”

Priya shook her head, gratitude warming her expression as she reflected on the rich cultural contrasts America provided. Here, freedom of expression carried no penalties. Here, women could truly be free.

Priya: “I left India because of the oppressive nature of my class. I was born into a lower caste and considered inferior to other castes.”

Amanda: “Do you mean between the rich and poor, ma’am?”

Priya gave a slow shake of her head.

Priya: “No, I was born into the lowest caste system called the Dalits meaning ‘broken’. We were treated like vermin, not allowed into temples, schools and many other areas. We were not even considered human. And the legal system was always against us.”

My eyes widened as disbelief washed over me. What kind of place would still permit such cruelty in today’s world?

Amanda: “I’m so sorry to hear that ma’am. I think you’re an amazing person.”

Priya: “Thank you Amanda, you’re too kind.”

Amanda: “I hope you’re treated with the respect you deserve here ma’am.” Priya’s lips curved into a grateful smile—a radiant expression that softened her features. It seemed unimaginable that someone with such inner light could ever have been subjected to such harsh treatment.

Priya: “Here in America, I’ve found far greater acceptance. I’m grateful for the opportunity to start anew, though I must admit that certain Indian communities remind me of the oppression I fled.”

Amanda: “Where would you like me to deliver this ma’am?” Priya took out her phone opening the mailgirl app and set the delivery location.

Priya: “Sorry Amanda, I just got caught up in my past.”

Amanda: “That’s quite alright ma’am, I hope to see you again soon ma’am.” As I spoke those words, a soft chime sounded from my wristwatch. I glanced down instinctively, turning my arm to better read the display. The screen clearly indicated that my next delivery was destined for Caroline on the fourteenth floor—my mentor and guiding light within this unconventional corporate environment. With a polite nod of farewell, I exited Priya’s office and proceeded directly toward the stairwell entrance. The climb upward began with deliberate steps, carrying me closer to my awaited meeting with Caroline.

Upon reaching Caroline’s door, I rapped lightly and waited. Her muffled voice called out permission to enter. Pushing the door open, I stepped inside and saw her engaged in a telephone conversation. With a subtle gesture toward the carpeted floor, she silently commanded me to kneel. I carefully placed the delivery package beside me before settling onto my knees in the center of her spacious office, patiently awaiting her attention as she concluded the call.

Caroline: “Everything is fine here, I have Amanda here in my office kneeling as we speak.”

My cheeks warmed instantly at the sound of my name, I wondered silently who was on the other end of that call.

Caroline: “Interesting!!”

Her gaze locked onto me with an eager intensity while she continued speaking. I couldn’t help but wonder what had sparked such interest.

Caroline set the phone aside, her voice steady as she asked, “What brings you here Amanda?”

Amanda: “I have a package for you ma’am.”

Caroline extended her hand. I lifted the parcel and placed it in her palm. With a slight motion of her chin, she indicated that I should return to my knees on the plush carpet.

Amanda: “Yes, ma’am.”

Caroline rose gracefully from her chair and approached me, her presence imposing as she stood over my kneeling form. I kept my eyes respectfully lowered, focusing on the plush carpet beneath me. When she spoke, her voice held a probing edge.

Caroline: “Are you enjoying being a mailgirl Amanda?”

The question caught me off guard, it was so direct, so unexpected. My pulse quickened—yes, I did find pleasure in this role, more than I’d ever admit aloud. Yet confessing that truth carried risks, would Caroline judge me harshly for it? After a moment’s hesitation, I replied softly.

Amanda: “It’s okay, ma’am. It has its ups and downs.”

Caroline’s eyes roamed slowly over my exposed flesh, her gaze lingering on every curve and plane of my naked body. I remained perfectly still, my heart racing as she assessed me in silence. After several moments, she finally broke the quiet with a measured tone.

Caroline: “Go take a shower, leave your watch in your locker and meet me in the lobby in 30 minutes.”

The directive struck me as peculiar, never before had Caroline requested my presence in the lobby. Yet unquestioning obedience was ingrained in my duties, and I complied without delay.

Amanda: “Yes ma’am”

I rose from the plush carpet, my limbs trembling slightly as I exited Caroline’s office. Descending the stairs, I listened intently to the echo of my own bare footsteps. Halfway down, the soft patter of another naked woman’s feet approached from below. As Sarah came into view, her face broke into a warm, playful smile.

Sarah: “Hey sexy.”

My cheeks burned at her bold greeting, she didn’t pause as she continued swiftly up the stairwell and gave my buttocks a teasing smack before disappearing around the bend. I instinctively reached back to rub the slight sting on my skin, a mix of surprise and amusement fluttering in my chest.

Amanda: “I’ll get you for that Sarah,” I called out playfully to her retreating form.

From farther up the staircase, her voice floated back down to me.

Sarah: “I’m counting on it.”

Our camaraderie always excited me, and Sarah would sometimes play little pranks on me—like the time she snuck up behind me in the stairwell and ran her fingertips lightly over my pussy before darting away giggling.

Each time Sarah’s pranks grew bolder, escalating into something far more personal. One afternoon stands out vividly in my memory—I was rushing to make a delivery when she suddenly appeared and pinned me firmly against the wall of the stairwell. With hardly any time left before I’d be late, she taunted me with a mischievous grin, whispering that she intended to make me miss my deadline. Our faces were inches apart as her eyes locked intensely onto mine, I could feel the heat of her breath mingling with my own. In that charged moment, the familiar ache began deep within my pussy—the same raw hunger that only Mark ever truly satisfies.

As I climbed toward the fourth-floor shower, the memory of Sarah’s audacious behavior stirred a fresh wave of arousal between my legs. My steps were quiet as I moved through the marketing department where I used to work, each familiar face triggering pangs of humiliation. Jeremy’s lecherous stares sent unpleasant chills down my spine, even though he had yet to act on his vile impulses.

I arrived at the mailgirl locker room and removed my watch, placing it carefully in my assigned locker. I then walked to the shower area and stepped directly under the steady stream of water, letting it wash away the sweat accumulated during that morning’s deliveries. The presence of the two-way mirror no longer bothered me much; though at times I felt a longing to touch myself intimately, I knew such actions were inappropriate in this setting.

As I rinsed off under the warm spray, my thoughts drifted back to Sarah’s playful antics earlier that morning. Her daring prank on the stairwell had left me both surprised and secretly thrilled by her boldness.

I arrived in the bustling lobby and paused near the elevator bank, keeping my arms at my sides with my head bowed low as I waited for Caroline. The space teemed with clients and couriers, and I soon felt their curious glances fall upon me—a naked mailgirl standing conspicuously in the open area. Being seen this way in the busy lobby was markedly different from being observed in our own departments; it was more unnerving here, leaving me exposed under so many unfamiliar eyes.

Moments later the elevator chimed and Caroline emerged, her jacket draped over one arm while a leather bag hung securely from her shoulder. She carried herself with purpose, clearly preparing to exit the building. Her gaze swept through the crowded space before settling on me.

Caroline: “Follow me Amanda!”

I stood paralyzed, the question clawing its way out before I could stop it—was she really intending to take me outside like this? Fully exposed? My ribcage heaved as if it had been struck by a sudden blow, every frantic thump of my heart reverberating through my bones. Trembling, I lifted my gaze to meet hers, managing only a strained, “Ma’am?”

Caroline did not respond, instead, she pivoted sharply on her heel and strode decisively toward the revolving doors. With a swift, commanding gesture of her index finger, she beckoned me to follow without breaking her stride.

I hesitantly followed her as we approached the exit, each barefoot step on the cold marble sending tremors through my body. With every movement, the pounding of my heart grew louder in my ears as complete strangers’ gazes fixated on my nude form.

Caroline didn’t break stride, not even sparing a backward glance to see if I was following. With every step onto the cold marble floor, my heart hammered wildly against my ribs. As we reached the exit, the brisk noon air enveloped my naked skin, raising goosebumps across my arms and chest. I trailed behind her in silence as she marched determinedly toward the car park, each step echoing in my ears amid the distant hum of traffic.

FUCK, I’M NAKED OUTSIDE!!! The thought tore through my mind as panic seized me. I glanced frantically around and noticed several people on the sidewalk staring directly at me. Humiliation scorched every inch of my exposed flesh, leaving me feeling utterly vulnerable beneath their judgmental gazes.

Caroline’s fingers deftly tapped the key fob and the car chirped softly. Her piercing blue eyes locked onto mine as she commanded coolly, “Get in the back seat and fasten your seatbelt.”

Amanda: “Yes, ma’am.”

The city blurred outside the tinted windows as Caroline navigated the streets, her movements precise and calculated. I sat in the back, completely exposed yet strapped into place by the seatbelt cutting across my bare skin. Every time we stopped at an intersection or slowed behind another vehicle, a fresh wave of anxiety washed over me—any curious glance could easily spot my nudity through the glass. My mind raced with each turn she made, wondering where this journey would end and what awaited me upon arrival.

Caroline steered into a parking garage and I recognized the DDE building looming ahead. After she shifted into park and released her seatbelt, she issued a curt “Let’s go” before exiting the vehicle. I opened my door and stepped onto the rough asphalt, its unforgiving surface biting sharply into the soles of my bare feet.

Caroline: “Amanda! Your professionalism today will have a significant impact on our image with DDE. I intend to demonstrate to Barbara that our mailgirls meet the highest standards. Do not disappoint me.”

Caroline’s demeanor had shifted into her strict mode. While she was often more attentive toward me, when she took on this particular mindset, failure was not an option.

Amanda: “I understand ma’am”

Caroline: “Maintain a distance of two steps behind me, keep your arms at your sides and direct your gaze downward without deviation.”

Amanda: “Yes, ma’am.”

Caroline strode purposefully toward the entrance of the main DDE tower, and I followed two steps behind as instructed, my arms held rigidly at my sides while keeping my gaze fixed downward. As we approached the receptionist stationed in the center of the expansive lobby, I couldn’t help but compare its opulence to GlobalCom’s; though equally busy and grand, being there completely naked felt surreal compared to my previous visit dressed in professional business attire.