Elevator Act

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“Hold that elevator!” Jackson McKaai yelled while running across the massive and magnifically lit entrance hall.

The whole thing was built in with glass and iron, decorated in a mix of Japanese and western styles; plants scattered all around, the morning sunlight seeping through the large windows and the plants, giving it a somewhat ethereal feeling.

I like this! The openness, the space, the light. Jackson thought to himself as he dodge some annoyed looking business men that stood in his path to the elevator.

He was late as usual, Miyoshi-san was already waiting for him, as the young lady in the front desk had firmly stressed There must’ve been something in the Tokyo spring air that made him especially drowsy, or maybe it was still the jet-lag, but in these last few days he hadn’t been able to arrive on time to any of his many appointments.

If his boss knew he would have been pissed, he was so very strict with being on time and that kind of stuff, well like any good ol’ Englishman. Then again Jack was signing all the contracts and establishing new contacts, so he shouldn’t have much to worry about. And anyway he didn’t want to think about his boss right now; too many bitter memories. He shook his head sweeping the bad memories to a far corner. Oh well, nothing he could do now but hurry to this meeting.

Jackson reached the elevator breathing heavily after the sprint. Someone had held it open. Heh! So screaming your lungs out in the lobby of an office building means the same all over the world. He smirked inwardly.

“Domo Arigatou!” Jackson thanked whoever had been so nice and then leaned against the steel wall recovering from the excess exercise. Eyeing the other occupants of the small compartment; four businessmen, unpleased by the delay; two women, one of them not Japanese, who looked at him with a reassuring smile, probably the person that had stopped the elevator from leaving without him; and three messenger boys in the back.

He looked at the console searching 72nd floor button and finding it already pressed, stood up straight, trying to find a more comfortable and composed position. His gaze caught his own reflection at the mirror on the back of the elevator. It was supposed to give an idea of space to the narrow place but reflecting all the ten occupants it only made it look more crowded.

Jackson closed his eyes and took a deep breath, going back to leaning against the moving wall, forcing himself to remember that this trip to the upper floor would only take a few minutes, maybe just seconds if it was nonstop. He soon discarded that thought as gravity pressed its fingers on his head announcing a halt in the ascend.

He open his eyes, as two of the businessmen left, again staring at the mirror, it seemed less crammed now, but the reflection had little resemblance to his usual self; where he normally presented a healthy rosy tone to the skin, now appeared as white as death, his big bright eyes where now sunken under dark circles as dark as rainclouds; his light brown hair, all messed, clinging to his forehead, even his tall, lean body seemed to have shrunken. Of course he could blame his terrible looks on the lack of sleep but there was something more to it.

The elevator continued its journey through the floors and as the occupants left and the cramped place got more and more space, Jack started to feel less uncomfortable and color began to return to his face. He dared open his eyes and realized he and one of the messenger boys were the sole occupants of the elevator. Now that he took notice the boy was quite good looking, actually he was gorgeous, even under the baseball cap that covered half his face. Jackson stared until the Japanese boy look directly in his eyes; he looked away to the number console.

All the buttons were now unlit save the one for floor 72; the elevator was now on the 68th floor. Close, only a few more and I’m safe. Jack cheered himself as he started to compose his figure, straighten the tie knot, smooth some cresses in his suit, combing his hair with his fingers; trying look more presentable and less zombie like. Again gravity pressed itself upon his head as the elevator came to a full stop.

“That was quick!” Jackson smiled and uttered relieved but a silent curse from the other occupant and the sudden darkness, as the lights in the compartment flickered and failed, made him realize, in horror, that the elevator had not stopped at its final destination.
His breathing got heavy and irregular, sweat broke down on every pore of his skin, and the feeling of darkness closing in around him was getting unbearable. He tried to calm himself, to bring reasoning to his mind, saying this wouldn’t last much longer, that soon the problem would be solved, but his brain wasn’t processing reasonable thoughts anymore. He wanted only to scream, to tear down the walls…

The lights flickered back on Jack let out a long audible groan and realized he had been banging on the door, pressing the console. The other man looked somewhat frighten and puzzled with Jack’s actions as he stepped forward, pressing the help button and then going to the back wall sitting himself on the floor and waiting.
Jackson again tried to reason with his brain, but even with the lights on the terror of being trapped inside this incredibly small, enclosed, claustrophobic, with so little air cubicle was unbearable. He HAD to get out! He could no longer be inside. There had to be a way out. THERE HAD TO BE!

“LET ME OUT!” he screamed in panic resuming the battering of the sealed door. “OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!” he wasn’t going to last much more time. “I need to breath, I CAN’T BREATH! HELP!!!”

The darkness started creeping around, the walls closing in about him, the air go thicker, harder to inhale, his strength began to fail. He stopped trying to break the door open with his bare fists and sunk heavily to the floor, his forehead against the cold metal. Conscience fleeing him. Time was of no consequence.

He felt a tug on his trousers, something cold pressed to the brim of his boxers; Jackson opened his eyes, startled to see the Japanese leaning over him, a hand gently stroking the soft skin below the navel, the other supporting his weight on the banged elevator door; he looked older and stronger than Jack had thought initially. Somehow the oriental boy had turned and sated Jackson against the door and was now slowly introducing his left hand to Jack, calmly awakening him from his panicked stupor.

He didn’t knew what to think, his clouded, shocked mind was threatening a breakdown from all the new input. Jack no longer felt overwhelmed with fear; his body was now responding, in a very embarrassing way to the Japanese man ministrations. The man was skilled, that he could tell. He was slowly starting to stroke him to awareness with long cold fingers; they felt strangely soothing.

This is crazy! He began an attempt to stop the calming fingers but the man just stared at him with deep dark eyes, Jack cheeks gained a few shades of color and he stopped all the squirming, easing his anxiety.

When he became fully erected the man’s cool, skilled hand tighten his grip on Jack, who gasped in anticipation; then started gently and slowly moving the hand up and down, up and down… Jackson let out a small moan, biting his upper lip; the man chuckled bringing in his other hand up Jack’s shirt, pinching his nipples.

Jackson’s far gone by now, his head leaned back against the door, eyes closed, mouth partially open, a small trail of saliva trailing down his chin, as the end drew near. The dark eyed Japanese picked up the pace sensing Jack’s body tensing near conclusion, his hand wet and slick; then as he was right about to cum, he bent down, taking Jack in his mouth and swallowing it all in. Jack’s eyes flew open with surprise as he arched, his hands clenched on the other man’s hair with the ecstasy of orgasm, letting out a scream of pleasure, slanting forward on top of the man, panting in recovery.

The man sat up straight smiling, raising his hand to Jackson’s face tracing his lips, his jaw and resting at the base of the neck, grazing lightly; his other hand slid down Jack’s chest, stopping at his pubes petting soothingly.

The western men still too overwhelmed and confuse just stared back at the boy and let a soft sob escape his lips. He closed his eyes once more just to have them jerk open when he felt the hand that had lingered in his neck travel down to his crotch joining with the other stray hand.

The Japanese messenger boy chuckled and grinned openly at Jack’s reaction but simply pulled his boxers and pants back on, buttoning them. Then calmly stood up, soothing the cress on his clothes, and moved back to his initial position on the elevator back wall.

Jackson didn’t knew what to do, how to react, nothing as strange as this had ever happened to him; he looked at the man, only to have his eyes drop with embarrassment when finding the other man starring back at him with lustful eyes. The strange thing about it all was that he didn’t feel ashamed or used or any other likely emotion that indicated he had been forced into this. Nope. He felt calmed, relaxed and safe. That’s it. He felt safe; safe inside a small, cramped elevator cubicle. Only now it dawned on him they were still inside the elevator.

The familiar claustrophobic sensation began creeping back in and the cold sweat threaten to break out once more. He raised his eyes searching for the other man, who still watched him and the safeness involved and filled him again as the man softly smiled.
Then suddenly the elevator resumed its functioning and began working. Jackson jumped up and stumble out as soon as the doors flung open releasing a sigh of relieve s he found himself on open space once again.

A small crowd had gathered near the elevator, a few firefighters, to make sure none of the occupants was hurt; technicians, finalizing their repairs to the equipment; the usual onlookers, trying the ascertain the amount of casualties, looking disappointed when none; and a couple of directors from the firm making sure no money had been lost in the turmoil and ushering everyone back to their own affairs.

“Are you alright, McKaai-san?” one of the stern looking directors asked, in heavily accented English.

“Oh… hmm… I’m fine now. Thank you for asking.” Jackson replied.

“I’m so sorry this happen to you.” He continued “It is the first time something like this has happen. Ever since the building started working”

Lucky me, heh! Jack thought sarcastically. “All is fine now, thank you for your concern” he added looking around the lobby for the other victim of the malfunction; the messenger boy was nowhere to be seen, he had vanished, probably back to his business. Jackson felt a pang in his stomach he could not quite comprehend.

“Shall we go to your meeting, McKaai-san?” the director pressed, as he opened a discrete door.

“Uhm… oh, yes, of course!” Jackson answered still a bit distracted, his mind lingering to the unbelievable events that had taken place in the elevator. He then turned to follow the older man into the stairwell that led to the upper floors.