Chapter 3

The Mailgirl’s Awakening

DDE: East Wing - Natasha’s Office

Natasha tapped on her phone while Claire waited quietly across the desk. After setting her phone down, Natasha said softly, “I believe you should understand how mailgirls operate.” Just then a knock sounded at the door. Natasha called out for them to enter, and Rebecca stepped inside, adopting her poised mailgirl stance. Claire’s gaze immediately fixed on Rebecca’s composed demenour.

“You wished to see me, ma’am?” Rebecca inquired. Natasha smiled warmly as she replied, “Yes, Rebecca. Please assume your kneeling position.” Without hesitation, Rebecca answered, “Yes, ma’am,” and gracefully lowered herself onto the center of the office floor. She positioned her hands on her thighs with her knees parted, keeping her gaze respectfully downward. Aside from a delicate wristwatch, she was entirely nude.

Claire observed keenly as Natasha rose gracefully, motioning for her to stand. Natasha then knelt before Rebecca and directed Claire to join her on the floor beside them.

Claire felt her pulse quicken as Natasha explained, “Notice Rebecca’s poise, her knees spaced to shoulder width, hands resting on her thighs, spine erect, and gaze respectfully lowered. This posture embodies the essence of a mailgirl.” Claire studied Rebecca’s nude figure intently, noticing a faint glimmer of perspiration forming on her skin as she maintained the position flawlessly.

Natasha extended a hand, gently stroking Rebecca’s cheek as she murmured with quiet pride, “She’s the best and she’s all mine.” Claire observed the soft curve of Rebecca’s lips and the warm flush spreading across her face in response.

“I see a slight blush there, Rebecca?” Natasha teased playfully. “Yes, ma’am,” came the soft reply. A gentle laugh escaped Natasha’s lips before Claire ventured curiously, “Is it not possible for a mailgirl to do their duties with clothes?” Natasha paused thoughtfully. “That’s an excellent question,” she acknowledged with a nod.

Natasha paused thoughtfully. “Let’s test that theory,” she said, turning to Claire. “Would you mind kneeling beside Rebecca in the exact position she’s holding?” Claire’s eyes widened in surprise. “You want me to actually act like a mailgirl?” she asked, her voice betraying a mix of uncertainty and intrigue as Natasha gave a confirming nod.

Claire shifted uncertainly, lowering herself onto the floor next to Rebecca’s naked form. Her heels dug into the carpet behind her as she awkwardly spread her knees, the fabric of her skirt tightening around her thighs. With deliberate care, she rested her palms upon her legs, mirroring Rebecca’s poised stance despite the encumbrance of her clothing.

Natasha instructed firmly, “Straighten your back and lower your eyes, Claire.” A deep crimson flush crept across Claire’s cheeks as she complied. “How does that feel?” Natasha asked. Claire hesitated slightly before replying, “I understand now; my shoes are making this quite uncomfortable.” Natasha nodded approvingly. “Then remove them,” she directed. With a slight tremor in her hands, Claire slipped off her heels, the cool floor beneath her bare feet offering a small measure of relief.

“Better?” Natasha asked as Claire nodded. A smile spread across Natasha’s lips. “Let’s continue as we are, Claire,” she said. “From now on, I’d like you to address me as ‘ma’am,’ understood?” Claire hesitated briefly before giving a reluctant nod. Natasha tilted her head slightly, her expression shifting to one of mild irritation. “What did I just say, Claire?” she pressed. Claire swallowed visibly before responding in a subdued tone, “Yes ... ma’am.” Satisfied, Natasha nodded and replied, “Very good.”

Claire’s breathing grew ragged as her gaze darted toward Rebecca. “Eyes forward, Claire,” Natasha commanded sharply. Startled, Claire snapped her focus back to the floor, her pulse quickening at the reprimand.

Natasha leaned closer, her fingers brushing Claire’s heated cheek as she murmured, “You’re doing wonderfully.” Claire flushed deeply at the tender contact, her mind racing. She’s treating me like her mailgirl, she realized with a mix of unease and curiosity.

Natasha paused, studying Claire intently. “How do the clothes feel in this position?” she asked softly, her gaze drifting over Claire’s form. “I imagine that tight skirt must feel quite restrictive, and I believe I notice some dampness on your blouse.”

Natasha leaned closer, her voice dropping to a hushed tone. “Claire, this is important now—will you comply?” Claire lifted her gaze to meet Natasha’s steady eyes. With a subtle motion of her hand, Natasha signaled for Claire to lower her head once more. Claire obeyed silently, whispering, “Yes.” Natasha paused briefly before pressing, “Yes, what?” Her tone was measured yet insistent. Swallowing hard, Claire answered quietly, “Yes ... ma’am.”

“Excellent,” Natasha confirmed, her voice steady and controlled. “Now, Claire, stand up, take a deep breath...” She paused deliberately before adding “ ... then take off every stitch of clothing and kneel back down next to Rebecca.” A shudder visibly coursed through Claire as she automatically shook her head in defiance. “Claire?” Natasha pressed, a note of irritation creeping into her tone. “I can’t, ma’am,” Claire whispered, her words barely a murmur. “Yes you can,” Natasha stated firmly. “Do as I say.”

Claire rose on unsteady legs, her movements stiff as she shrugged off the blazer. With fumbling fingers she unfastened each button of her blouse, sliding it from her shoulders until the lace trim of her bra came into view. She turned toward her skirt, tugging at the side zipper with trembling hands before letting the garment pool at her feet. Stepping free, she stood in only her underwear, each breath ragged and uneven.

“Continue,” Natasha instructed, her voice unwavering. Claire’s fingers trembled as she struggled with the clasp of her bra. With deliberate care, she released it, letting the straps slip from her shoulders before discarding the garment entirely. Next, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, sliding them slowly down over her hips and stepping free. Now fully exposed, she instinctively shielded her breasts and pussy with crossed arms, each shallow breath betraying her mounting anxiety.

“Kneel,” Natasha commanded, her voice steady and unyielding. Claire’s response came softly, “Yes ... ma’am,” as she lowered herself to kneel beside Rebecca. Natasha observed intently as Claire settled onto the floor, her hands instinctively moving to rest on her thighs. “Knees shoulder-width apart,” Natasha instructed firmly. With a slight hesitation, Claire shifted her legs open, exposing her pussy completely. She inhaled sharply, acutely aware of how vulnerable she felt with her most intimate area now on full display before them.

“Back straight,” Natasha ordered as Claire stiffened her spine, causing her full breasts to thrust forward. She lowered her gaze, her body quivering with nervous energy.

Natasha’s fingers trailed tenderly through Claire’s hair. “You look beautiful, Claire,” she murmured softly as Claire’s lips parted to whisper, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Now Claire, do not move from this position, understand?” Natasha said as Claire nodded, “Yes, ma’am.” Natasha straightened up and moved to sit behind her desk. Her fingers clicked across the keyboard while Claire and Rebecca remained kneeling naked side by side, their bodies exposed and still.

For nearly ten minutes Natasha remained silent, her attention seemingly fixed on her work. Claire sat motionless, wondering to herself, Am I simply expected to stay kneeling here naked? As time passed, the ache in her legs grew more pronounced. Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca appeared utterly still. Claire dared to turn her head slightly toward her counterpart when Natasha’s voice cut through the quiet without even a glance in their direction. “Eyes forward, Claire,” she instructed firmly. Claire snapped her head back around instantly, lowering her gaze in compliance.

A moment later, a sharp knock echoed at the door. Claire’s eyes darted toward the sound, her body tensing as she started to rise. Before she could fully lift herself, Natasha raised a hand sharply. “Claire!” she commanded, her voice cutting through the silence. “Do not move from your position!” Flushing with embarrassment, Claire sank back onto her knees, her chest rising and falling rapidly as anxiety tightened in her throat. Her gaze remained fixed on the door despite Natasha’s order. “Eyes forward,” Natasha snapped again, demanding Claire’s focus return to her.

Natasha rose gracefully and approached the door. She opened it just enough to peer through, then raised a single finger to her lips in a silent demand for discretion. With a swift gesture, she beckoned Barbara and Sandra inside. Barbara’s eyes widened as she entered, while Sandra’s gaze immediately fell upon Claire kneeling naked on the floor. Without thinking, Sandra called out urgently, “Claire?”

Claire’s head snapped toward Sandra, her voice taut with apprehension. Her eyes flickered with a silent plea as they met Sandra’s gaze. Natasha’s sharp tone sliced through the room. “Claire! Eyes forward—I won’t warn you again.” Sandra shifted her attention between Natasha and Claire, concern clouding her features. But before she could intervene, Natasha’s command cut the air once more—a final warning that left no room for defiance. “Eyes forward!” Claire flinched, terror driving her stare to the floor. Her shoulders shook; each ragged breath betrayed the turmoil twisting inside her.

“What is happening, Natasha?” Sandra demanded, her irritation palpable. “Why is Claire exposed like this?” she pressed, as Natasha motioned for her to take a seat. Sandra settled into the chair with a simmering glare, her displeasure evident. Natasha extended a placating hand and explained firmly, “This is an evaluation, Sandra—Claire is experiencing firsthand what it means to embody the role of a mailgirl.”

Barbara interjected smoothly, “Claire is meant to recruit mailgirls, Natasha—not actually perform the role herself.” Natasha countered with cool authority, “Understanding the position firsthand ensures she can effectively guide others.” As Sandra watched Claire tremble in humiliation, she struggled to conceal her growing unease.

Claire’s chest heaved with uneven breaths, the rise and fall of her breasts betraying her distress as she remained frozen in position. A fine layer of perspiration coated her skin, glistening faintly beneath the office lights. Meanwhile, Rebecca maintained her practiced composure, every muscle disciplined and still.