Emergency Stop

A sexy coming of age story where our heroine Heather Coswel (picture Beth from Queen's Gambit) finds her stride in a real life game of chess, but can she turn the tables on a world where men have all the moves?

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CH1: DAMN HIM

She didn't know why, it was just a simple red button, on a panel, in the elevator. Emergency Stop. Why did it have such an affect on her? Every time she boarded an elevator now. She would have to reach for the panel without looking. Do you know how difficult it is getting to a 20th floor apartment without looking at the panel? Damn them. DAMN HIM.

It had first happened when she was nineteen, in college, on top of her game and now she was thirty-two, and she couldn't control it. That little red button had her number, and it knew it, and so would everyone else in the elevator. They could smell it.

That first time was in New York. Her mom and her on another, 'girls trip away'. Staying in the Mansfield Hotel on Madison Avenue. As usual, her mother wanted a nap before they hit the show. She was bored, so she headed for the lobby to flirt/tease the door man. She was good at this. She could spot the men who would play along. Her "targets".

She'd go to the bathroom in the lobby and take off her panties. She was proud to be a redhead. Then she'd hang in the lobby pretending to read her mother's Fear of Flying while she phished for attention. She was cute. She knew it. He would look....unless he was gay. They always look. She didn't trim her bold muff of red hair so that it would be more visible. A big red pennant. Like a matador, taunting the bull.

The trick was dropping the book just at the right time, then, bend and smash, giving him just the right view, pick up the book and strut, like a cat, to the elevator. This had been her game all week. She could imagine the doorman groaning with embarrassment as he struggled to cover his inflamed member. His bright red cheeks matching his red coat, dead giveaway. He was hot, and she was bored, and....he loved it anyway.

But this time, when she entered the elevator, there was somebody there. Actually there were two somebodies there. A man and a woman.... and 'that' smell. The woman, tall and sophisticated, was straightening her skirt as she departed the elevator, looking over her shoulder to the man. She winked and blew him a kiss as she passed. She watched the women's eyes as they traveled from his face to his crotch where they lingered for a second. What was that smell? The doors slid closed. She, and the man, were alone.

Her eyes had followed those of the other woman's and were now fixed on his crotch. His pants, like a circus tent. Her attention snapped back to reality when he asked her, "going down?"

She looked at him for the first time. Handsome, short dark hair, grey at the temples, dressed smart, but casual for this time of day in New York, slacks and a pullover, thin, wool, v-neck, black sweater. She said, "huh?"

He returned, slowly and with the slightest lilt of bemusement ... "Going down?" Straight faced, no embarrassment, standing there in full glory, reversing her game, the elevator door closed and they were going nowhere.

She could feel her cheeks flush as her nipples pointed north, the moist excitement of her playtime scenting the compartment. "N..N..N..Nine" was all she could stammer. He slowly slid his hands over the panel and finally pushed the button for her floor as she watched. He only pushed one, and never broke eye contact. The elevator started its assent, but then he hit the button. The little red button that said...emergency stop.

CH2: DEADLY BUSINESS

The elevator lurched to a stop. Bounding on its cable. Bringing moisture escaping her in a long sinuous thread, where it snap and the drop fell to the floor with a small pop, barely audible over the soft jazz music piped in through tinny speakers.

His eyes lowered to the wet spot on the floor, he smiled as his eyes returned to hers. "Looks like pussy's got herself all worked up..... has she been playing with her food again?", smiling at her in an inappropriate way.

She was immediately on guard. Her self-defense classes had prepared her for this. She dropped the paperback with her panties tucked into the pages to the floor and assumed a readiness stance to show she meant business. Deadly business. She was no push over.

With a wry smile that signaled an unfazed, lack of concern, he dropped his arm from the panel and his eyes to the book with the panties hanging out and started forward. She crouched lower, readied to strike and barked at him to 'STOP!'

He only hesitated a moment with that bemused look again, his handsome hazel eyes sparkling, and said.... "you dropped your panties", and moved closer.

"I SAID STOP. or. . .Or. . .I'LL HURT YOU" she bellowed. Hoping to gain control of the situation, but he kept moving toward her. Her training took over. She lowered and stepped toward him, struck quickly with the butt of her right hand, up and to the nose, like her sansei had taught her. He had been watching her. Saw the strike coming, but she was fast. He moved his head right and back to soften the blow. Taking it in the cheek rather that in the sensitive, and deadly nose bridge.

She knew she couldn't let down, needed to push her advantage. She dropped her weight back on her left leg and swept her right leg up and around. A roundhouse kick intended to bring her foot in contact with his temple and close the deal. Her cheer leading sneakers were perfect for this. Heavy, little, metal, regional runner-up, medallions woven into her laces would smash him hard, but this time he was ready.

A slight stoop, and tilt of his head let her leg and deadly foot sail by missing her target. Her momentum brought her around with her back to him. He gracefully moved behind her, snatched her right hand in his, twisting the arm behind her, moving her against the elevator wall. Deftly, he pressured her wrist to a painful angle that torqued her shoulder to an unnatural angle and controlled her thoroughly. This wasn't supposed to happen.

CH3: Curiosity and the Cat

Pressed to the reflective wall of the elevator interior she could see him rubbing his cheek with his left hand while he held her fast with his right. She lifted her right foot to stomp the bridge of his foot, but he raised her wrist to a pitch that let her know that was not a good idea. Easing her foot back down, she whimpered. She could feel his tent pole pressed to her ass.

"Misterrrr.... Are you going to hurtttt me????" The stranger looked at her in the reflection as if surprised.

"Hurt you?? Oh, not now. Not here kitten. I think we should start this over. "I", as he bent at the knees and retrieved her book, " was merely assisting the lady to retrieve her book." He remained squatting with his eyes at the level of her skirt and a view of her untamed muff. She moved to turn herself from his view, but his grip tightened on her wrist just enough to let her know moving was not an option. He was looking down at her book.

"Fear of Flying. So this is what's got you so worked up. This manifesto of women's equality". Then standing slowly, he paused with his nose level with her crotch and breathed in deeply. Rising to full height, he bent close and sucked in another deep inhale from the crook of her neck slowly running his nose lightly along the arc of her neck and whispered.

"Creepy crawly.... little mousey....from the barn....up to the housey. Into the kitchen.....under the shelf.....found some cheese and he helped himself." Pausing, she swore he hooked her mini-dress with his erect cock, the tip pressing into her naked ass. "I smell pussy... do you smell pussy? I think we have a mouse in the house. Do you know where I could find a good pussy?"

Pausing, he inhaled deeply again, as if enjoying the smell of rain, after a long drought. He stepped back, he let go of her wrist and handed the book over her shoulder at the same time. She turned, snatching the book from him, she backed to the wall throwing daggers with her eyes. He had his back to the control panel again and a confused expression on his face.

"Kitten, this just won't do. It was you who attacked me, if you recall. I was only helping to retrieve....your book. I would think you would want to make amends for jumping to conclusions. Whatever was it that you found so threatening?"

"YYYour cockkkkk" She stammered, pointing to his now flaccid member.

"My penis?" he questioned. How did my penis threaten you? I could say the same thing about your breast and that lovely scent you have spread through our compartment here. Surely someone who is worldly enough to read Erica Jong isn't afraid of the male genitalia?

"I'm not!, I can handle any cock. I'm not threatened by your little dick. Start this damn elevator, and NOW!" She tried hard to sound confident.

"I am so very glad to hear that, but I am afraid I cannot. You see, I think you owe me something....something special, something very special."

"Oh no, no, no, no, no....if you think I'm going to suck your cock, your wrong."

"Kitten, who said anything about sex??? I don't want anything as trivial as that. What I want, is for you to read me your favorite passage from your book. You are reading the book. No?"

"So, if I read to you.... You will let me go???"

"Kitten, it sounds so crass when you put it that way. I merely want you to read to me as a token of apology for the black eye I will have to endure tomorrow. I think it the least you could do?"

"If that's what it takes, here.... here's my favorite. She opened the book to a well worn page and read...

"Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more."

"Really? You believe in true love....how sweet....and how naive. Here, give me that thing and let me read something to you." He snatched the book away from her before she could act and thumbed through the pages zeroing in on something. Finally located, he started to read.

"The zipless fuck is absolutely pure. It is free of ulterior motives. There is no power game. The man is not "taking" and the woman is not "giving." No one is attempting to cuckold a husband or humiliate a wife. No one is trying to prove anything or get anything out of anyone. The zipless fuck is the purest thing there is. And it is rarer than a unicorn. And I have never had one."

He slipped a card from his breast pocket and tucked it in the page he had just read. Handing the book back to her and said , "I think we should start over without all the pretense. Donavan James and you are?"

She swiped the book from his well manicured hand, leaving it hanging in the space between them. "Heather. Heather Coswel. Now please, let me go."

"Miss Coswel you are free to go, but I would like you to come to my office on the sixth floor tomorrow at 2:00 p.m. sharp, for your lesson." At that, and without looking, Donavan released the elevator, the doors opened and he stepped out on the sixth floor, leaving Heather staring at the little red button.

That is where it all began, thirteen years ago. Damn him. She could have had a normal sex life, she could have torn up his card and forgotten about him, she could have.... but she didn't, her curiosity getting the better of her. DAMN HIM!

CH4: Cheeks Bearing Gifts

At two o'clock sharp, she knocked on the door of suite 622, curious to see what this Donovan had in mind. Lesson, he said. You can't teach me anything old man, she said confidently to herself as the lock turned and door opened. Heather found herself face to face with the woman who had departed the elevator the day before. Professionally dressed, in a stylish knee length gray dress, fitted at the waist a cream blouse with full sleeves and a lace ruffle collar drawing the eye to a hint of cleavage. She wore a black velvet choker mounted with a cameo relief, white on black, her dark hair in a tight bun. "Miss Coswel, please have a seat." She motioned and closed the door behind them. "Donovan will see you in a moment." The woman turned and left the small foyer down a dark hall, turned and disappeared, leaving Heather feeling girlish and unsophisticated in the sundress she had chosen for the encounter. Blushing slightly she mentally kicked herself for being naïve. She had expected a bachelor pad, not an office. Some place where this playboy, Donovan character took his conquest. She had chosen the dress to make him want her. Then she would turn the tables and leave. Lesson indeed, but now, here she was, waiting for her lesson, and feeling out of her league. She took a seat in a wing back chair, crossing her legs and sitting forward, she smoothed the yellow dress down over her thighs to make sure the pink panties she wore for the occasion would not show. Looking around, she wondered what kind of office this was. The magazines were boring, The Economist, Psychology Today, National Geographic. Who reads this stuff? She picked up Psychology Today and leafed through the pages till something caught her eye. Page 43 had a diagram of an erect penis and the title: Human Penis Morphology Exposes a Sinister Past. Bad pun....but this could be interesting. She started to read. She had only got to the methodology section where two nerdy guys had used a dildo and fake semen on paid female subjects, when she felt she was being watched.

"Interesting article, no?" Donovan asked. "They claim that the shape of the male glands has evolved to act as a pump to purge the vaginal canal of rival male semen. If true, that means...either women in the past participated in group sex on a regular basis or were not very committed to their spouses. What is your opinion?"

Dumb struck that he would speak so frankly about group sex and the nature of the male tool, she didn't answer at first, mouth agape. "Come now Heather, this certainly won't do for someone who...what did you say... I believe it was..... 'I can handle any cock. I'm not threatened by your little dick'. Surely you are more worldly than to be tongue tied by a discussion of female infidelity."

"I'm not tongue tied and I can."

"Can what? Discuss female infidelity?"

"No....handle your little dick". She said smartly, with a sarcastic tilt in her voice.

"Oh, I am sure you can....but that is not what your lesson is today. Now Heather, you need to stop teasing the help. I want you to take a gift down to the doorman Jonathan and apologize for your behavior."

"I have no idea what you are talking about and I will not apologize to that oaf."

"That oaf's name.. is Jonathan, or big Jon, as I like to call him, and you will." "I will not, and you can't make me!" Said Heather more than a little agitated.

"No, I can't 'make' you, but I think it in your best interest. And I think you might even enjoy yourself, if you can change your attitude, otherwise I may have to share this video with your mother. I believe you are in room 921, no?" At that Donovan pushed a button on the controller atop his desk and a video of the lobby sprung to life. Heather recognized Jonathan at the main doors and the elevator where she and Donovan had their encounter. Within a few seconds, she strutted into view, carrying a book and looking bored. She watched herself, knowing what happens next. She didn't realize that she was being monitored. She squirmed with embarrassment at how childish she looked. The girl in the video dropped the book and yes indeed, there she was in all her glory, mooning Jonathan and then making for the elevator. Donovan clicked off the TV and turned with a smile. "So...are we feeling apologetic? It is in such bad taste to tease the help. I don't think you want to explain that scene to your mother, now do you?"

"NO....no, I don't....so...what do I have to do?" Said Heather feeling defeated, looking at Donovan with apprehension.

"Oh now my dear, no need for dread, I think you might actually enjoy this, if you have the right attitude. You seem to enjoy strutting your stuff." With that Donovan opened a drawer and retrieved a small box with a lovely bow and placed it on the desk between them. Heather eyed the package. The box was black with a bronze overlay and a Silver ribbon tied in a bow at top. "I would like you to take this to Jonathan to express your apology." Donovan said with a smile and a gentle nudge of the box.

"What's in it?" Heather asked as she picked up the box. She noted it was not very heavy.

"Oh, just a parting gift and some instructions to Jonathan. You are to present it to him, let him read the instructions and assist him with what every he requires. Am I clear?"

"Yeah, I suppose." "YES?... you mean. And, no need to looks so glum my dear." Donovan had a quirky, cute smile and really seemed to be enjoying himself as he rose to let Heather from the room.

Yes, curiosity got the best of her. Big Jon? What was that all about, she wondered as she exited the office with the wrapped gift box? Pandora's box...a box she should have never opened. A box that would change the course of her life.

CH5: Ding Ding

She walked the length of the hall to the elevator staring at the box. She noted that it had been wrapped in a way that allowed her to slip the bow off, and open the lid without tearing the package open. She could put it back easily. Once inside the elevator, her curiosity got the best of her. Rather than hitting the lobby button, she pushed the little red emergency stop to hold the elevator while she explored the content of the present. Placing it on the floor, she stooped and used both hands to carefully remove the bow and then the lid. She didn't want it to be apparent that it had been opened. Inside were items with a note on top. The note simple said...'Jonathan, I think you know what to do. Twelfth floor please.'

You know what to do?? That's strange. What did that mean? What was on the Twelfth floor? Her thoughts were quickly consumed unpacking the items. The first appeared to be black fur pelt or something. She gingerly lifted a long black, fur tail..??.. from the box and stared at it. It was a tail! It looked like a cat's tail with a handle like weight at the bottom of the box. She draped the tail over her leg as her attention turned to the remaining items in the box. Lifting out a series of silver rings, like heavy gauge, hoop earrings but more like chains, they separated in her hands to two separate chains, four links each. Each link about 2-inches in diameter, the metal on each loop end overlapped so that, with great effort, it could be pulled apart. They almost looked like bangles for your wrist.

You know what to do....Heather thought to herself? What in the world would "Big Jon" do with a cat's tail and some bangles? She was started from her musing when gravity pulled the handle end of the cat tail dangling over her leg into motion. The tail slithered across her thigh and back into the box, as if it had a will of its own. She liked the sensation of luxurious fur between her legs. She could feel it as a swelling in her clit and nipples.

Confused and embarrassed she repacked the box, replaced the lid, rose and straightened her dress. Was someone watching her? She looked around for cameras. Not seeing anything suspicious, she pulled the emergency stop out and pushed the button for the lobby. "Let's get this over with." She remembered saying to herself as the elevator started to descend.

DING...The elevator chimed as she arrived at her destination. A sound that would forever change for her with pavlovian overtones, she was nervous and excited, and embarrassed that she wasn't portraying the cool sophisticate she felt she was. This whole event reminded her that she was still a girl, sheltered from the world by daddy's money and a slave to the impression of others.