The Storeroom

Posted by Barbanne on November 19, 2001 at 22:13:22:


I grabbed his hand and giggled.
I pulled him along behind after me as the lift doors opened and we stepped out into the dim lights of the basement.
"This way," I said.
He looked puzzled but interested as I pushed open the half glass door that led into the records storeroom where I ruled. Me, Barb, the fileroom girl. The one they all rang if they wanted something from the past found and delivered up to them. Then, file in hand I would emerge from my den and make the journey into the upper levels of the building, walking the corridors in my ridiculously short skirts and sluttish high heels to drop the file on the desk of the person who had asked for it and with a "Let me know when you're finished and I'll come and collect it," off I would go back to the basement while eyes followed my every move, my tilting hips and twitching ass, my clumpy shoes and naked legs.
Today I was returning with young Mister Smith from planning in hand.
Young Mister Smith had chatted me up and to his amazement I had fluttered my silky lashes and invited him down to see the files.
My invitations were the stuff of tea room legend.
"If she invites you down you're in."
"Barb bangs like a barn door. If she gets you in that back room watch out."
"She fucks like a ferret."
"She gives fantastic head!"
"Roots like a rabbit."

I dragged Mister Smith along behind me.
Through the narrow, dusty walkways between the towering file racks, past the wheeled ladders I used to access the topmost files, past my little tea alcove to the locked back door to my inner sanctum right beside the boiler room. I used my key to undo it and pushed the door open.
Young Mister Smith was breathing heavily.
Panting in anticipation.
When we were inside he grabbed me and kissed me, slobbering across my mouth, smearing my cherry pink lipstick everywhere. I pushed him back.
"Take your time buster," I said, unbuttoning his shirt, pulling off his silly necktie.
"Oh Barb, Oh Barb," he moaned.
I unzipped his fly and reached inside, cupping his balls in my hand. His cock was rigid and upright, leaking clear drops from its little winking eye.
"Oh my," I said as he pushed my shirt and bra up and fingered my springy, rubbery nipples.
I went down on him sucking his cock into my mouth.
He sighed.
I sucked and pulled with mouth and tongue.
He sighed again, groaned and moaned and his cock spasmed and fired and his hips pumped.
The arms emerged from the walls and gripped him around the chest.
I rocked back on my heels and sucked down his cum.
The arms wrapped around him and the powerful muscles contracted.
He looked at me from eyes widened in amazement and growing terror.
I smiled back sweetly.
The arms crushed and I heard his ribs cracking one after the other snap, snap, snappity snap. The broken ribs caved into his organs, puncturing lungs and rending gall and liver and heart. Young Mister Smith looked at me in horror and blood poured from his nose and glooped from his mouth. The arms contracted again and his chest crunched and collapsed and the blood splattered everywhere.
I stood up and fiddled my top down over my tits and left the room.

Outside I made a cup of tea and drank it with two shortbread biscuits.
When I went back into the room Young Mister Smith's clothes were neatly piled on the floor together with his watch and the contents of his pockets.
I bundled his clothes into a plastic shopping bag and pocketed his valuables.
Of Young Mister Smith there was no sign.
The room was as clean as always.
On my way home for the evening I dumped the bag with Young Mister Smith's clothes in the incinerator.

Janice was excited when I took her down into my file rooms.
I knew from the way she had looked at me which way she swung. I could also see that she craved the illicit thrill of it being me, the file room girl with the wicked reputation.
Janice was a clerk in accounting.
It was lunch time and I led her through the maze to the back room.
"Do you know where everything is in here Barb?"
"Sure do Janice."
I unlocked the room and took her inside. After a few seconds hesitation we came together and I tasted the sweetness of her lips. I helped her undress. I was surprised, little Miss Prim Janice wore a wicked red thong. When that was the only thing she wore I admired her gorgeous girl's body, her pretty face, her soft drooping breasts and slight tummy bulge and then taking her blonde hair in my hands brought my lips to hers. We kissed and I kissed my way down to her pussy. She was excited and wet and when I slipped her thong down and nuzzled her moist femininity she moaned and closed her eyes in ecstasy.
The arms wrapped themselves around her throat.
She looked at me from wide open, frightened eyes.
The arms crushed her larynx and then started dragging her body backward.
She hung limp and dead in their grasp and then the cracking started.
Blood gushed from her nose and mouth and coursed over her breasts.
I gathered my clothes and went outside.
After ten minutes I went back inside.
Janice was gone.
Her clothes and things were in a neat pile.
I kept her things and dumped her clothes in the incinerator.

He's hungry, my friend is.

I met him when I first started this job.
I was shown down into the basement storeroom by Old Miss Jackson who had ruled down here for thirty five years. She took me for a tour that included all of the file racks and their labyrinth of corridors. I wandered around after her gazing dumbstruck and wondering how I would ever learn it all. We stopped at the little tea room and I made tea for both of us and as we stood there drinking it I noticed the door just down from where we were.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Ah, just a door into an old space near the boiler room. No-one ever goes in there and nor should you dear, its quite unused and hasn't been opened in forever."
"Aaah," I said.
Old Miss Jackson spent a week teaching me everything about the filing system and then I was on my own.
She and her old, old, brother had set off for a long delayed trip to Europe and I was the new file girl.
I worked hard to get on top of the system and finally felt I knew enough to be able to help most of the people I had to deal with. With more time to myself I noticed the door again. I tried it but it was locked and felt like it had been for a hundred years. I sort of forgot about it until one day, after about six months, when I was cleaning the place up and found an old key for which I had no use. I was looking at it and turning it in my hands and then it struck me! Try it in the door.
I did.
It worked.
I went inside.
There was a light but the bulb was long dead. I replaced it and flipped the switch. Yellow light filled the room and I found myself in a small space, little bigger than a decent cupboard with bare concrete floor, walls and ceiling and lots of dust. I walked around staring at the walls and the door slammed shut behind me.
Damn!, but I knew I hadn't locked it so turned to reopen it.
The light went out.
I groped for the door and someone grabbed me.
"OK, OK smartass," I said, thinking it was one of the boys from despatch, "just let me go and turn the light back on."
Whoever had me laughed, a high musical laugh.
"Let me GO!", I shouted, angry now.
It was a man and he was aroused, I could feel his erection against my bare leg and started imagining rape and stuff and figured how I felt about that.
Then he spun me around to face him and, in the dim light filtering in from outside, I saw a naked torso that could have belonged to Superman, so perfect was it as an example of masculine musculature. I caught my breath and then he leaned forward and in the gloom I saw..........................
A face, sort of, but like no face I had seen before and while I looked it dissolved and I saw the history of evil, the very heart of darkness itself. It was as if every one of my most awful nightmares was here in this room with me.
Evil. Pure evil!
And then I smelt the smell.
The smoke of pitch and brimstone, the very fires of hell.
Then my eyes crossed and rolled up and I felt terribly cold and then I pitched forward, passed out cold.

When I came to I was lying on the cold concrete floor and I was naked and I didn't need telling to know that I had been sexually violated. The room was freezing cold and pitch black dark. A voice, a beautiful voice, deep and soft and melodic, spoke.
"Barbara, now we are one. Flesh melded to flesh, lips to lips, mind and heart to mind and heart."
"What do you want," I said, sobs catching in my breath, "let me go, please. Don't hurt me anymore."
"Go my beloved. But if you wish to live bring me food."
Then the light was on again and the door was open and my clothes were folded in a neat pile outside. I staggered outside and dressed quickly.
The next day I bought Alice from the packing line down to have tea with me and it took her.
I have never seen more than the arms since then and I have learnt that it requires one warm meal a month. I do my best to provide that. This is a big place with a very high staff turnover so the disappearances go largely unremarked.
I am its feeder.
I have to be.
Otherwise I will be its next meal.