The following fictional story is being reposted by Mr Double.  If you are the author of this story and would like to receive proper recognition (an Author's Page at my website), contact me at mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.





                    Shown
                     by
             Charisse van der Lyn




     I don't know how I ever agreed to the challenge.
Arrogance, excitement, the reward?  I don't know.   And
who the hell was Steven to even suggest it, an e-mail
friend.  I had never met him, and wouldn't.  I could
have ignored his dare.  I could have lied and said I had
done it.  But I didn't.  All I had to do was to get on
an elevator with a change of clothes; then on the way up
to the top floor I had to change outfits.
     It was surprisingly simple to set it up so that I
could prove to Steven than I had met his test.  I merely
had to hand my camera, which date and time stamps each
picture, to someone  in the lobby and ask that he take
my picture in front of the elevator.  And, I would do
the same at the top floor.
     Each outfit had to be skimpy enough that there
would be no way I could wear them both and simply slip
one over the other.  I chose a red mini with a zipper
up the back and a translucent white blouse.  The
photograph would show my bare tits through the blouse,
and he would have to take my word that I was wearing
matching red panties.  My second outfit was a short
brown, woolen skirt and matching jacket with a cream
colored blouse that could never hide my black bra.  I
picked the 101 building, with 60 floors, and which has a
nice restaurant on the top, my reward.  I decided to go
during the early evening so that most of the offices
would be empty, and although someone could get on, it
wasn't likely.
     By the time I had gotten everything together, I
really didn't want to go.  I'm forty years old.  I'm
attractive, but I'm not a twenty year old girl who, if
caught could say it was a sorority prank.  What could I
say?  Nothing.  But, somehow I couldn't bring myself to
back out.
     By the time I had parked my car my heart was
racing, my hands were sweating, and I was feeling
excited.  I found the express elevators, at least I
could minimize the likelihood of someone getting on to
the top 20 floors only.  A young man in a suit was
looking at a paper.  I asked him if he would take my
picture, for a friend.  He did, but as I turned to get
on the elevator a couple got on with me.  I hit the
button for the 48th floor, got off.  My hands shook as
I waited a few minutes before going back down, and I
could feel myself oozing with excitement.  God, how I
wanted to take care of it.  But now, more than ever I
knew I had to give it another go.
     I kept thinking of my age, and how crazy this was
as I waited for someone to take my picture again.
Looking at myself in the mirrored wall opposite me, I
could easily see my nipples pointing hard and red
through the fabric of my blouse.   "Slut."  I jumped at
my own loud, strangled voice.
     Two more times I got on the elevator, each time
someone got on with me.  The second time I actually
started to unbutton my blouse anyway, but the other
passenger was an older man, gray haired, distinguished,
and something about him suggested that he'd call the
police on me, rather than enjoy seeing me strip.
     I was hot, frustrated and wondering if this weren't
a big mistake I had ever made when I heard someone
talking to me.
     "Are you waiting for the elevator?"  A woman's
voice asked.
     I turned.  "Yes," I said to the woman.  She was
younger, maybe late twenties, attractive, dressed like a
successful lawyer or executive, and she was staring at
my breasts, as she held the open elevator door for me.
I started to get in, but remembered the photograph.
"Here."  I handed her my camera.  "Take a quick picture
of me, please."
     She grinned, held the camera to her eyes, and
clicked off a shot.  Her eyes asked questions she was too
polite to voice as I took the camera back and walked into
the elevator with her.
     The door closed and I knew the moment had come, in
spite of her . . . or perhaps because of her?  As the
elevator began to move, I knelt and quickly opened my
bag.   I looked up at the other woman.  "Don't ask why,"
I said in an excited whisper, "but I've got to change
before we get to the top floor."  I could tell that she
was enjoying looking at me.
     "You'll never make it."  She grinned.
     I took a deep breath, stood, and unbuttoned my
blouse, letting it drop to the floor.  I reached behind
me, unzipped my skirt, and wiggled out of it while
trying to keep my panties from slipping down too.  I was
suddenly conscious of how my breasts jiggled as I
stepped out of the skirt.
     She reached past me and hit the button for 40th
floor.
     The elevator stopped and the doors opened, I
grabbed my blouse and held it in front of me, but no one
got on.
     "No," she whispered and hit the "Door Close"
button.  "I'll hold the elevator for you."
     I smiled as the doors closed and the elevator
remained motionless.
     "My name's Debbie."  She pulled out the red "Out of
Service" button.  "I just hate to see you rush."
     I could feel the red creep up my neck and face.
"It's a bet," I said.
     "I'm sure," Debbie said as she crouched to look
though my bag.  She pulled out my clothes, piece by
piece.  She held my second pair of panties against her
cheek.  "Black silk,"  she said.  "I'm impressed."  For
a moment, before putting them down, she held them to her
lips, closed her eyes, and kissed them.
     Her dress rode up her thighs.  I looked down at the
dark purple lacy tops of her designer stockings and the
purple straps of her garter belt.  I felt myself tingle
and ache for her.  It had been years since I had made
love to a woman, and I fought hard to not reach up under
her dress and grope her like I was some adolescent in
heat.
     "My name's Traci," I whispered.
     She nodded.  "You'll need help, Traci,"  she
said, reaching up and hooking her fingers in the elastic
of my panties.
     "God!"  I sighed.  I dropped my blouse and let her
pull my panties down.
     As I stepped out of them, I could smell the musty
odor of my sex in that tiny elevator.
     She grinned up at me.  "You're all wet," she said
looking back at my crotch.  "And such a beautiful
bush."
     "Eat me,"  I heard myself sigh.
     One of her long, delicately fingered hands slipped
behind me, pressed into my buttocks, and urged my
overheated nest into her smooth cheek.  Her other hand
smoothed my hairs away from my moist slit.  I looked at
her finely manicured carmine fingernails on my mound as
if I had never seen fingers there before. She buried her
face against my mound.  I felt her hot breath burning me,
and as she kissed me and moaned, her tongue began to
explore the cleft of my vulva through my tangle bush.
It pushed between the puffy folds of skin and flicked
against my clit.  I had been so close before, but now,
I felt my knees give out and I sank to the floor.  Debbie
guided me down, while her mouth never left my pussy.  I
began to buck uncontrollably, and she slipped two fingers
deep in my hole.  Her touch was electric, as if I were a
virgin and this were my first time.
     I pulled my knees up against my chest and held them
there, wantonly displaying myself to her.  My heart
swelled as part of me felt pride that I could be here,
like this, being loved by a beautiful woman almost half
my age.
     She slurped and licked and kissed my pussy, as she
finger fucked me.
     I writhed under her mouth and came in seconds.
     After a moment or two, I reached down and ran my
fingers through her dirty-blond hair.   "Let me do you."
I said.
     Debbie sat up, and while cupping my sex and slowly
fingering me to another climax, she began to straighten
out my clothes.  "You've got your bet to win first."
She removed her hand, leaving me humping air.  "Come
on."  She helped me to my feet and began to dress me in
my second outfit.
     I was dizzy and giddy.  And I so much wanted to
have her.  "It can wait,"  I protested as helped me on
with my jacket.
     Debbie pushed in the "Out of Service" button and
the elevator resumed its climb.  When the doors opened,
she stepped out, she aimed my camera at me and took my
picture.  "Looks like you've won."
     We had drinks and ordered dinner.  Debbie was a
lawyer, and, remarkably, she was thirty-seven.  I
explained the entire bet to her, and said that it had
worked out better than I could ever have imagined.  I
kept hinting that we should go somewhere so I could
return her favors, but she deflected my suggestions as
well as my attempts to touch her under the table.
     "I want to make love to you," I said.  "Let's get
out of here."
     She smiled at me.  "You are so naughty."  She stood
up and whispered in my ear, suggesting we go to the
ladies room.
     I wasn't sure about this, but her smile was so warm
and confident that I happily followed.
     We giggled and primped in front of the mirror while
we waited for a woman to leave.  "I've never--" I
started to say had no idea what we really could do in a
stall.  But Debbie took my hand and led me into the
large handicap stall on the end.  She locked the door
and in one motion grabbed my crotch and was French
kissing me with the abandon and strength of a man.  When
she broke the kiss I swooned back from her, breathless
and in disarray.  I could feel my lipstick was smeared
and my eyes were half closed with the warm tingling of
her soft lips kissing me so brutally.  I wanted to feel
my breasts pressing against hers again; my nipples
hardening, pushing into her yielding flesh.  And I
wanted her to hold them in her hands, her red nails like
the petals of a blossom around ripe fruit, guiding my
nipples to her mouth.
     Her eyes sparkled.  She sat down suddenly on the
lid of the toilet and pulled me down over her lap.
     "You are a naughty bitch," she said, speculatively,
as if floating the idea for someone else to comment on.
She pulled up on my skirt.  Her delicate hands pressed
and stroked my bottom.
     I moaned and closed my eyes as I gave into her
touch.  Her quick hands slid my panties down, then she
drew her finger slowly through the cleft of my wet,
hungry, sex.  She wormed her moistened finger between my
cheeks and into my tight bottom-hole until it was deep
in me.
     I squirmed on her lap as she wiggled her finger
around in me.  It was wonderful to have her in me like
that.
     "Ooo . . .  yes," I moaned as she fingered me.
     Abruptly, she pulled her hand back and slapped me
hard.  I jumped with the searing pain, and the
suddenness of her attack.  Tears welled.  I started up,
but she held me down.  I tried to speak, but my voice
choked with fear and panic.
     "Shut up," she said.  Again and again she slapped
me.  My eyes ran with tears, and my ass stung more and
more with each slap.
     When she stopped, she made me stand up and she slid
my panties completely down.  She stood up and wiped my
face dry.  Then she crumpled my panties into a ball and
tucked them into my bag.
     "Debbie?"  I whispered, unsure of where things were
going.
     "Shhh. . . . quiet, cunt."  She grabbed my ass
and began probing my tiny hole again.
     I snuffled, half in pleasure, half in fear.  My
bottom relaxed and nipped at her finger.  I wanted her
to enter me there again.
     "You're so lucky you met me."  Her breath was hot
on my face.  "I can see you're just a slut."  The tip of
her finger pushed into me again.  "You're a slutty,
bitch, cunt.  A slave cunt."  She jerked my blonde hair
in her elegant fist and she her finger jammed deeper
into me.  "For now you're my slave cunt."  She smiled.
"And I'm going to take your bet a lot farther than you
had ever expected."
     I couldn't believe how I felt, a mixture of lust
and shame, and how I wanted her.  I loved her.
     She withdrew her finger and pushed me to my feet.
Standing up, she drew out a tissue wiped her finger.
     I squeezed my bottom-hole, missing her touch.
     "Get dressed," she said, unlocking the cubicle and
stepping out.
     I was a mess.  Wet and sticky.  I wiped myself
clean.  I smoothed out my dress, patted my blouse and
jacket.  I stepped out.  The light seemed brighter,
colder.  Debbie was standing at the sink washing her
hands.  I stood next to her, straightening my hair.
     Debbie held her finger to my nose.  "Smell it."
     It was musty.  It had been in my bottom.  I blushed.
     Debbie kissed my cheek.  "You smell of sex," she
whispered.  "Slut."
     Cooly, she turned and finshed washing.  I watched
her as she moved in slow motion.  Her hands.  Her mouth.
I knew she was right, I was at her slave.
     We paid the bill and waited for the elevator with a
businessman.  When the doors closed behind us Debbie
pushed me against the wall opposite the man.  She
reached down and lifted my skirt.  The air felt cold
against my naked sex.  "Show the man how you play with
yourself."
     I couldn't.  But the man did turn to look, and
Debbie stepped out the way.  "Go on," she whispered in
my ear, "show him your twat.  Talk to him."
     Tears welled in my eyes.  I knew I had to touch
myself for him.  I reached down and slid my fingers
through the sticky damp hair of my pussy.
     "Look at my pussy," I whispered.  "See how hot I
am."
     Debbie pulled my legs apart.  Then she squeezed my
jaw.  "Don't look away."
     I stared at the man, noticed that his pants bulged
and he covered himself as he watched me masturbate.  In
spite of the tears and embarrassment, I loved knowing I
had made him hard.  I wanted him to take out his tool, I
wondered what it looked like, and felt like, and tasted
like . .  .
     "Watch me touch my cunt."  My voice choked and
cracked with humiliation.  "I'm really naughty . . . see
me play with my cunt . . . my twat . . . for you."
     The elevator slowed, and Debbie pulled my hand
away, letting my dress cover me again.
     "I'm masturbating for you."  I cried, as she pushed
me towards the door.  When it opened we walked out ahead
of the man and into the cold night air.
     It took a few minutes for me to calm down.
"Debbie?"  I said.
     "Honey,"  she kissed me on the cheek.  "You'll get
me, promise.  But first, I'm going to exhibit you like
you can't imagine." She stuck her tongue in my ear, then
whispered, "and when you cum you'll cum like you never
have before."

