here is a story about how power can blur the lines between fantasy and reality.
The Voice in the Elevator
Sharon was a powerful woman and with a combination of rare confidence and some sensual feminine wiles, she had found success in career, in life and in everything she pursued. But at the center of the complete package she made herself out to be was a hunger for a far different flavor than what her outer shell made people believe.
She had a softer side, much softer than the one she showed at her 6-figure job. She was a BabyGirl and embraced it for how it made her feel. It was the opposite of what she decided to be in life and she took to the lack of power, with a hunger for submission.
But without Deklin, her fuck-buddy turned lover turned Daddy, being a BabyGirl would have no appeal to her. She needed the right counterpart and in him she found the ability to submit without question or backbone, so much so that recently they had begun to explore the power play in humiliation and being forced to do things.
On this Friday Night as she returned home from work, she got into the elevator at her ritzy apartment complex. The weekend had begun and she could think of no finer way to let her hair down than to put it up into pigtails for Deklin.
Little did she realize that, in order to get to him, she would have to be a faster learner in submission than ever before if she was going to escape the pending situation and satisfy … the voice in the elevator.
No sooner did she push the top floor button and did the elevator start rising, then it stopped, almost as if it had lost power, but the lights of the elevator didn’t flicker or go out.
Sharon looked at the floor numbers above the door. She had only risen five floors. She pushed the floor 20 button repeated, eventually sighing and pushing the call monitor button.
“Hello, this is Roger,” a computer-sounding voice said from the monitor.
“Hello, Roger. Are you a real person?” Sharon asked with a snip to her tongue.
“Yes I am,” the voice replied.
“You sound like a robot,” she said with a smile.
“Yeah. Dontcha just love cheap equipment?” the voice asked, jokingly.
“Not at the moment. I’m in an elevator and it stopped,” she said, bluntly.
“I can see that. You’re in car two in the building at 147 Callahan Drive. Is that right?” the voice asked.
“That’s right,” Sharon replied. “Any ETA on help getting here?”
“I’ve alerted the repair company. They’ll be on the way shortly,” the voice replied.
“Thanks,” Sharon said, stepping back from the monitor and leaning up against the back wall.
“So tell me about yourself,” the voice said from the monitor.
“Excuse me?” Sharon asked, shocked that he was still on the line but more so for what he just asked.
“Well, you’re not going anywhere for a while,” the voice said. “I thought I’d keep you company. So tell me about yourself.”
Sharon smiled slyly, realizing the opportunity to flirt with this computer-voiced simpleton.
“Hmm,” she said with a sexy tone. “What would you like to know about me?”
“The most important question of all, of course,” the voice said. “Do you prefer chunky or creamy peanut butter?”
Sharon laughed hysterically.
“Why is that the most important question of all?” she asked with a playful chuckle.
“Because creamy peanut butter is easier to lick off a girl’s body,” the voice answered.
Sharon raised both eyebrows at his answer.
“Well, aren’t you just an inappropriate little fella?” she asked, rhetorically.
“You have no idea,” the voice replied with a lower tone.
“And I suppose you’d like me to give you each little morsel of detail about all my wildest fantasies, huh?” she asked, teasing back at him.
“You betcha,” the voice replied with a playful tone.
“Why? So you can envision what I might look like, greased up with your favorite snacks all over my chest?” she asked, flirting openly while getting ready to lower the boom which she knew would kill his ego.
“You have no idea,” the voice replied with the lowest tone yet.
“I hate to burst your bubble,” Sharon said, getting out her phone to text Deklin that she would be late, only to remember how poor cell phone signals were in the elevator.
“Do me a favor,” the voice said suddenly.
“And what favor would that be?” she asked nonchalantly, walking around from corner to corner of the elevator in the hopes of getting enough signal to text.
“Turn around,” the voice said abruptly.
She looked up from her cell phone at the corner she was standing in and then looking around at the rest of the empty elevator.
“Why do you want me to turn around?” she asked with a smirk.
“So I can see who I’m looking at,” the voice said with a icy cold quality that brought a chill to Sharon.
The elevator was empty. What was he talking about?
“You can see me?” Sharon asked, looking up and all around for a camera, but finding none.
“Oh yes,” the voice said. “And you won’t find reception anywhere in the elevator.”
She looked down at her phone, realizing he wasn’t joking and could actually see her.
“Are the repair guys gonna be here soon?” she asked in a suddenly uncomfortable manner.
“They’re on the way, but since you’re not going anywhere for a while, how about you fulfill one of those wild fantasies for me?” he asked, waiting for her response and then continuing when she remained silent. “Take your clothes off.”
The color drained in her face as she started to wet herself in fear.
She began to panic, nervously fumbling her fingers across the buttons of her phone and trying desperately to find a signal anywhere in the elevator to call him. Deklin was waiting for him in her apartment. He was so close, yet seemed like he was miles away. She had no way of reaching him.
“Take … your … clothes … off … now …” the voice said in a slow and even tone.
“No,” she said, trying to mask her fear with a brave response.
“I wouldn’t refuse if I were you,” the voice said with an evil sound.
Tears began to well up in Sharon’s eyes. She screamed for help, banging her fists on the walls. In the process, she dropped her purse and some of its contents spilled out onto the elevator floor.
“No one can hear you,” the voice said calmly. “And no one can help you … except me.”
“What do you want from me?” she said with a trembling tone.
“I want you to show me some simple obedience,” the voice answered directly. “If you ever want to get out of this elevator, you’d better start listening.”
“You can’t keep me in here forever, you sicko,” Sharon said with the last shreds of confidence in her soul. “And when I get out my boyfriend will find you and when he does, he will tear you to pieces.”
“And why do you think your boyfriend can find me?” the voice asked with laughing delight.
“Because he works for a pretty big tech company,” she answered. “And he knows people.”
“I could make your life a living hell,” the voice replied. “With the greatest of ease, I trapped you in this elevator, cut you off from the world and I’ll get what I want from you, little girl.”
“Why did you call me that?” Sharon asked as tears began to stream down from her face.
“I know a lot about you,” the voice said as hot air began to pour in through the vents at Sharon’s feet. “Your name is Sharon Locket. You were born on October 4, 1981 in Hartford, Connecticut. Your parents’ names are Mario and Vanessa. You went to the University of Massachusetts, graduating on May 12th, 2003 with a degree in Business Marketing.”
“How do you know all these things about me?” she asked with trembling knees.
“Your boyfriend isn’t the only one who knows people,” the voice answered as her legs gave way and she collapsed to the floor. “Lying on the floor like that is only gonna get you hot.”
She tried to stand up, but couldn’t. Her hands shook as she attempted another phone call – this time to 911. But no signal was found. The hot air blew straight out at her. She turned her head and covered her face as he continued talking.
“I’ve been following you for quite some time, keeping track of the buildings you walked into and out of each day, where you live and even where your office is at,” the voice said. “You make a comfortable living, don’t you?”
“Do you want money? Is that it?” she asked.
“No,” the voice answered.
“Then what do you want from me?” she asked.
“Sick stalkers like me want the thrill, not the dough,” the voice said. “And you need to be much more polite since I control you now.”
The hot air blowing out of the vents became hotter yet, scolding almost as it blew against her. She began sobbing uncontrollably.
“Take your clothes off, Sharon,” the voice said. “Be a good girl.”
“I don’t want to,” she whimpered in a pouting tone.
“You have what you want,” the voice said. “Now it’s my turn.”
She covered her face and began wetting herself again.
“Aww,” he teased. “Look at the strong, confident woman sitting on the floor and crying like a little baby.”
The temperature in the elevator reached 90 degrees. Her hair began to show beads of sweat. She covered her hands over her ears to avoid listening to him. But his voice echoed too loudly to be ignored.
“You see, Sharon, it’s people like you who give hard-working individuals a bad name,” the voice continued. “And because of your success, you now live with a sense of entitlement. You know, all you had to do was not be an ungrateful little banshee when you called me. All of this could’ve been avoided, but thanks to your bitchy little attitude, now you’re gonna give and I’m gonna take.”
His words went straight to her heart and then to her conscience. Certainly there were people whom she trampled on a little along her way up the chain of success. But everyone did that. And she couldn’t remember anyone named Roger whom she had run-ins with in her past.
Yet still, this guy knew a lot about her and was quite unhappy with her. She racked her brain for answers, placing the side of her face on the wall of elevator, looking for any relief from the scorching heat blowing straight at her. Her legs were numb at this point and she was becoming delirious as she began to lose hope of ever getting away from him and out of this situation.
“Turn off the heat,” she whispered, weakly.
“Take off your clothes,” the voice replied as he cranked the heat up some more. “Obey, Sharon.”
Her mind was beginning to unravel. Obedience was that secret passion she was discovering with Deklin. She began to contemplate obeying this guy, just to get through this situation without losing her mind. How bad could it be really? She did what this psycho told her to do and then she would simply take the stairs from now on, no matter where she was. This would never happen again.
“Obey me, little girl,” the voice said.
Her eyes, nearly kept shut for the hot air being blown at her, began to see visions of her beloved Deklin. Perhaps if she did what this stalker wanted while pretending it was Deklin telling her to do these things, then she wouldn’t be so scared. But knowing it wasn’t Deklin, it would be humiliating to do what was being demanded of her.
“There’s no way out of here that doesn’t require my permission,” the voice said, continuing to work on her mind. “And my permission will only be granted when you do as you’re told.”
She began to believe him and began to lose hope otherwise.
“Take your clothes off, Sharon,” the voice said.
She placed one hand against the elevator wall and sat herself up while leaning her head back on the wall behind her. With slow moving hands, she reached up to her collar and began unbuttoning her blouse.
“That’s a good girl,” the voice said, pausing to take in her forthcoming naked body.
This was going to be humiliating for her and erotic for him, but little did she know that a surprising tingle was about to wash over her.
“Hmm. You’re a good-looking girl,” the voice said with a dirtiness that made her want to wash immediately. “Your boyfriend is a lucky guy … And so am I.”
Her hands began trembling as she fumbled for the final buttons.
“Take out the shirt tails and get that suit coat off. You don’t belong in such clothing,” he said as she pulled the bottom of her blouse out from the waist of her skirt, sitting forward and taking the suit coat off. “Peel that blouse off, too. Let me see what a rich chest looks like.”
She took the blouse off her shoulders, allowing it to drape down to her elbows. She felt a temporary relief from the heat, but her bra and cleavage were in now in his full view.
“Now, dump the contents of your purse out on the floor,” he said as she picked up her purse, unzipped the top and turned it upside down. “That’s a good girl.”
His words were so demeaning, but somehow were charging her with the desire and attention to listen for his next demand.
The contents of her purse spread all over the floor, with lipstick rolling to the wall, tissues, tampons, make-up, a check book, a note pad and everything else strewing on the floor.
“Get those straps off your shoulders,” the voice directed as she reached behind her back, unfastening the bra and lowering the straps to her elbows.
Her breasts came free and drooped slightly with the now-lost support of the lacey cups.
“Hands on your thighs,” he directed as she placed her forearms on the top of her skirt. “Palms up.”
She turned her hands over, closing her eyes and taking in a few short breaths. What was she feeling inside? Why was she feeling this way? Her heart began to beat just a bit faster and it seemed that excitement was beginning to well up at her center.
Could she really have been enjoying this?
“Is that a pacifier?” the voice asked as she opened her eyes quickly and widely. “Why do you have a pacifier in your purse?”
“It belongs to my nephew,” she lied hastily.
“You don’t have a niece … or a nephew,” the voice said.
She bit her lip, having forgotten he would probably know that.
“Try again,” the voice said sharply. “Why is there a pacifier in your purse?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, searching desperately for an answer he would believe.
“Wait a minute,” the voice said. “Bend your knees up and part your legs.”
She bent her knees, causing her skirt the ride up her thighs before she opened them.
“Wider,” he said, pausing from his directions to observe what she was wearing under that skirt. “Let me rephrase the question: why is there a pacifier in your purse and why are you wearing a diaper?”
She closed her eyes again, wetting her lips before confessing to him.
“It’s a fetish I have,” she admitted, embarrassed to have done so.
There was a brief moment of silence before he replied.
“This just keeps getting better,” the voice said with a delighted tone. “Take the skirt off.”
She reached behind and unzipped the skirt, struggling to slide it down her numbed legs. Returning her palms to their face-up position on her thighs, she parted her legs again. She was becoming absorbed with how good the humiliation felt.
“Tell me more about this fetish,” the voice said.
“It’s like playing baby, but I’m not pretending when I do it. I’m … regressing,” she said as tears began to fill her eyes.
She was exposing her secret and in doing so, became upset that she couldn’t shut her mouth for her own good. She went into detail, explaining it more and more.
“Pinch your nipples, roll them around in your fingers,” the voice instructed. “And, by all means, keeping telling me about this fetish. I’m intrigued.”
She reached up and took hold of her nipple with her fingers, pinching them and rolling them around as instructed. She was not only eye candy for him, but now his amusement toy.
“All my life, I’ve had to be in charge, sometimes a cruel person to be taken seriously,” she stated sadly as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. “When I’m a baby, I don’t have to be in charge and for once, I don’t have to scrape and claw to get what I deserve. It’s just given to me.”
“You sure have had to work hard, haven’t you?” the voice asked, rhetorically. “But maybe that’s because people recognize how little you care what they do for you.”
“I care!” she said, sharply. “I just …”
“You just don’t know how to show it,” the voice said, completing her thought. “How about know? Even now, you can’t admit to something as simple as having trouble saying the words thank you.”
“Thank you for what?” she asked.
“My point exactly,” the voice replied. “Pick up the pacifier. Put in your mouth. Maybe if you stop talking, you’ll do some thinking you’ve never done before.”
She picked up the pacifier and put it between her lips, nursing on it immediately.
“Now lie flat on your back,” he instructed as she pushed the contents of her purse out of the way before lying down. “And lower that diaper to her knees, Baby.”
She lowered the diaper.
“Now pick up that vibrator, turn it on and slide it inside you,” he instructed. “Then pull the diaper back up.”
She picked up the vibrator, turning it on and placing its tip at her opening before sliding it up her canal and returning the diaper to her waist.
“You’ll only get what you deserve with me,” the voice said, watching her begin to rock her hips with the vibrations from the toy. “But the difference is: I’ll play fair. And when you’ve earned it, I’ll let you enjoy it.”
She shuddered at the sensations growing between her legs. She frowned behind her pacifier, closing her eyes and beginning to pout a little. She wanted to pull the vibrator back out and slide it back in, enjoying the experience of penetrating herself.
“Open your eyes,” the voice said sharply as her eyelids flipped back up quickly. “Don’t close them again. I wanna look directly into your soul as you finally learn some manners.”
Not only did she keep her eyes open, but she kept them wide open. She didn’t know where to look for not knowing where the video camera was and it was this simple bit of not knowing which had the strongest effect on her mind.
She arched her back, slightly rocking her hips up and down as she clenched her canal around the toy and then released her muscles. When Deklin held her down and penetrated her with the toy he always gave her specific instructions of what to do, saying she wouldn’t receive the real thing until she had shown him she could follow directions.
Her mind was passing in and out of the moment, a mixture of listening for the voice’s next instruction and envisioning Deklin making her submit. The constant memory of him was the reminder she clung to for the sake of not unraveling all together on that elevator floor.
“Cup yourself,” the voice said, drawing her back to the present,
She slammed her hand on the front of her diaper, digging her nails into the plastic and grinding her palm down on her hood. She concentrated on one single spot on the tiles of the elevator ceiling, eventually working her eyesight into a blur. She kept working her hand into the front of her diaper, teasing the peach beneath and getting the toy to move a little. And she kept exploring how to grip herself until it finally felt exactly the way Deklin made her feel.
“Keep rubbing, little girl,” the voice said.
She arched her back with a deep bend and let out a string of tiny whimpers as the toy slid out of her canal and then back in.
“You know, taking a vibrator to work with you is extremely naughty,” the voice scolded, but in a syrupy tone that heightened the building of her arousal. “I bet you take frequent trips to the bathroom, just to play with yourself, don’t you?”
She nodded and mumbled behind her pacifier. Answering his questions was a bit humiliating because it seemed each question forced her to reveal yet another secret of herself, some of which she hadn’t even confessed to Deklin yet. But the fact that couldn’t stop herself from answering him was the real humiliating part. And each answer drew her closer to her orgasm.
“You’re so easy, Sharon,” the voice said. “Look at you, the big, bad career woman, laying on the floor in a diaper, with a pacifier in her mouth, getting closer and closer to cumming for a total stranger. And all of this is being spurned on by a simple little toy inside you.”
She smiled behind her pacifier, having found a way to win after all. It didn’t seem to matter what the voice said anymore. All she heard was Deklin’s voice. And she was drawing very near an orgasm which was going to be intense.
The journey to the summit had been very satisfying so far and mixed with the humiliation and fear the voice was planting within her, it felt even better.
“That’s right,” the voice said. “Just keep making yourself feel good. I bet you’re ready to cum, aren’t you?”
She nodded with a bright smile.
“Your orgasms require my permission, too,” the voice said with an unsatisfied tone.
She wrinkled her brow, hoping he wasn’t going to deny her anything, but as she found out, she hadn’t gotten the upper hand at all. And the voice in the elevator was about to level the playing field.
“You are going to keep stimulating yourself and you will not stop,” the voice said, pausing to allow her to absorb the thought. “But you won’t cum until I say you can.”
She lifted her head up with a look of horror, searching the ceiling once again for the camera. He couldn’t possibly be serious. And how could he prevent her from cumming?
“If I detect a trace of your orgasm coming out of you, I’ll crank the heat up as high as it goes, and I’ll broadcast this camera feed live to the internet,” the voice said with evilness. “I’ll send the feed link in an email to all your relatives, all your co-workers and all your friends as well as a list of a thousand perfect strangers just like me who will enjoy watching you cum.”
She shook her head no.
“Oh, yes,” the voice replied to her. “You’re orgasm will go viral on youtube and you’ll spend the rest of your life with a shame that just might eat away at that thick, unremitting pride you have used to destroy so many people in your pathway to happiness and success.”
She lowered her head back to the floor and blinked as tears began streaming out of her eyes.
“And all the way back to the beginning, each and every person you used will finally get the opportunity to find some closure with you,” the voice said. “Dick, your beloved first, will at long last be free of you. Gary, that guy you thought could pave your journey to the top, he’ll know that Karma finally caught up to you.”
She began to feel the muscles in her core tighten, the first sign of her arriving orgasm.
“Tim, the guy you toyed with for a short while: he’ll know that in the end, the toy fucked you,” the voice continued. “Brad won’t need to fly you down to see him anymore. He’ll be able to see you whenever he wants.”
She tears turned to sobbing. And she suddenly found herself forced to grow arousal she wouldn’t be able to enjoy.
“You know the really sad thing, Sharon?” the voice asked. “You’ve never once had to face the consequences of your words or your actions.”
Her thighs twitched for a split second before she tightened the muscles of her hamstrings, preventing her legs from shaking. But orgasm was still nearing.
“And I’m sure Nick would be thoroughly pleased to know that you got canned from your job because of something you didn’t cause,” the voice stated. “That’s basically the reason he got fired before you took over his position. It’s so unfortunate when people’s private lives get exposed, especially when junior partners like you snoop around in other people’s emails.”
Her canal began tightening, the last sign of an arriving orgasm. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t release the muscles. She simply tightened around the vibrator – to point of pain.
“And let’s not forget Marc, perhaps the single nicest guy you’ve ever met and ever spent time with,” the voice said. “Not even he could get you to see anything outside of your tunnel vision.”
Her orgasm hit and she seized up, clenching every muscle in her frame.
“Don’t cum, little girl. Not yet,” the voice instructed. “If you do, I start broadcasting. And I have so much to tell you yet.”
She stared at the ceiling, concentrating on breathing slowly through her nose. This was going to be excruciating.
“You’ll eventually learn, Sharon, even if it isn’t now. But you’ll never be able to erase your past or what you’ve done to people. Perhaps there was a comfort in keeping that guilt to yourself all this time. No one would know, right? But as you can see, a perfect stranger in an elevator knew every bit of your past. You’re fooling no one,” the voice said.
She placed her left hand next to her on the floor while continuing to rub the front of her diaper as per his directions. But what he was saying was striking at her heart and the physical pleasure was no longer enjoyable.
“You see, when running into your past, I bet you’ve always had to run away from it,” the voice stated. “And there’s always been a reason.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat as she continued fighting the twitches of pleasure. He just kept talking.
“How much money did you spend? Were you every appreciative?” the voice asked her.
She remained silent, save for the sniffles.
“Or was it that someone else always caused the problems in your life? Problems you had to fix, right?” he asked to her continued silence. “I’m willing to bet you’d throw your current boyfriend under the bus if it benefited you.”
The spasms were increasing and she arched her back up while lifting her hips to avoid releasing the enjoyment.
“Yeah, all you really need to do is smile pretty for the camera and everyone will love you,” the voice said. “Rest assured, Sharon, this is only the beginning of the one bit of your past you can’t deny or run away from … Karma’s a bitch. Don’t be Karma.”
Her thighs began shaking so badly and she kept clenching her thigh muscles so tightly that they cramped up on her and she collapsed onto her side, crying into her pacifier as the leg cramps increased. Her greatest defense against letting the orgasm happen was now taken away from her.
She wept in pain and in defeat. In the process of holding back her orgasm, she was forced to concentrate. In doing so, she had heard and taken to heart so many faults from her past which she had tried to forget. Now, they were all fresh in her mind once more.
“Flip over on your stomach,” the voice said in disgust. “And grind that mound of yours into the floor. Cum for me harder than you’ve ever cum before, little girl. Don’t stop until I say so or your image will become a youtube favorite with the push of one button.”
She flipped over and obediently pounded her mound repeatedly into the floor. Humiliation entered a greater depth in her mind. In a soaked diaper and riddled with the shame of her past, she was now being blackmailed into cumming for a total stranger she hadn’t even seen. She began whimpering as the orgasm she so frantically repressed now wouldn’t begin.
“Hump away, Little Miss Tunnel Vision,” the voice taunted.
She closed her eyes and saw the faces of everyone from her past whom she had somehow used to get where she was. Her whimpers became as rapid of the diapered thumps she was making.
“It’s so hard to do things on your own, isn’t it? Of course, I guess you all ready know that, huh?” the voice asked. “It’s sad that you couldn’t find your happiness on your own and that you had to pull others down so you could step on top of them to reach the next level.”
Her mind softened now, much further than it had been driven all ready. Her eyelids began twitching as the duress sunk in so deeply she could no longer fight it off. Her orgasm erupted and her tender, rapid whimpers turned into loud moans behind her pacifier that echoed off the elevator walls.
“That’s a good girl,” the voice said in a condescending tone. “You see? You can do something for yourself. Keep humping. Don’t stop.”
The orgasm just kept erupting and she collapsed to a puddle of mush several times, forcing herself to reposition her rubbery legs to continue.
“Don’t stop, Sharon. I’ll press this little broadcast button right now,” he warned.
“Noooo,” she mumbled behind her pacifier, trying not to succumb to the overwhelming feeling washing over her.
She kept erupting, one orgasm after another, now to the point beyond pleasure.
“Please?” she begged, asking him for permission to stop.
“Why should I let up on you? You never once looked back at anyone you used,” the voice replied.
Tears streamed from her eyes again and she cried uncontrollably as the orgasms began to drain all her energy. But her hysterics had no effect on him, nor did they encourage him to ease up on her. She collapsed to the floor, mumbling her apology to him. Her half-mast delirious eyes showed the extent of how completely drained she had become.
“Now, I want you to release the guilt of your past,” the voice said as the elevator began to move upward and the hot air blowing out of the vents was replaced with cool air. “You’ve paid for your entitlement.”
With the rush of air conditioning across her naked frame, her nipples hardened and goose bumps formed on her skin. She turned herself on the floor, trying desperately to get to the controls, but was too weak to lift herself up to them.
She crawled to the elevator doors, prepared to slink out as soon as they opened. She had all ready decided to abandon her purse, clothing, credit cards, car keys and all.
“But I want you to remember this: This entire time you’ve been on the elevator, you’ve been recorded. Every word, every action, every teardrop – I’ve got it all recorded now,” the voice stated. “You take a moment and think about that.”
Flooding back into her mind were all the confessions she made, how he forced her to undress, how he forced her to have orgasm after orgasm in a most humiliating fashion and all the information he had mentioned about her.
“I’m gonna be watching you very closely from now on,” the voice declared. “And you are gonna be a very good little girl.”
She whimpered, realizing that getting off the elevator wouldn’t signal the freedom from him she had hoped.
“You are going to say thank you. You are going to keep your hands off other people’s money. You are going to appreciate so much more now,” the voice said as the elevator stopped moving. “If you don’t show me that you’ve learned your lesson, I’m going to post this video of you everywhere. You’ll see it online, on TV, on electronic billboards … everywhere. And your life will then be as ruined as you tried to make the lives of those you trampled on in your past.”
She stuck her fingers between the crack in the elevator doors, trying desperately to open them – to no avail.
“Tell no one of this elevator trip or you’ll become the new thing online,” the voice said as the elevator doors finally opened to her apartment. “Goodbye, Sharon. That’s a good girl. Crawl away.”
She found the strength to get up on her hands and knees and crawl out of the elevator.
“I’ll be watching you,” she heard the voice in the elevator say.
Straight over to the living room couch she went and up onto it, collapsing on the cushions and trying to fall asleep in the hopes of later waking up from a bad dream. But sleep escaped her. Perhaps that would be the case from now on.
Deklin wasn’t there yet for some reason. She thought back to what the voice in the elevator said. Bound and determined to look at things differently, not just to avoid running into that voice again, but also to at long last not have to run away from her past when she ran into it, she took stock of the mode of operations which had been her calling card.
The Voice in the Elevator was right. She would eventually face the consequences for her actions and her words. It was unavoidable. But the choice was hers as to whether she would face them of her own free will and volition or if she’d find herself held captive by yet another Voice in the Elevator.
If you’re a fan of the darker age play, I would also recommend reading:
The Voice – A tale of horror, unavoidable consequences and possible redemption of self.