The Store Room Floor

THE STORE ROOM FLOOR

The beautiful young woman had fought valiantly but now, bloodied and beaten, she lay motionless on the store room floor in defeat as her attacker finished the task of stripping her. Her blouse had already been torn open and spread aside, her bra shoved up around her neck, fully exposing her breasts to the ravishing eyes of her assailant who was now unzipping her tight fitting jeans and pulling them off the swell of her curvaceous hips. Her defiance shattered, she now sobbed audibly—tears streaming down her checks—as she helplessly felt her pants being tugged roughly down her legs—legs that until just moments ago had been kicking in wild protest, but which now remained still in exhaustion and resignation.

With her pants now out the way, her assailant turned his attention to the young woman’s thong panties, which covered only the barest minimum of the intimate juncture of her thighs. Feeling the man’s hands grip the strings of the panties that circled her hips, the young woman mounted a renewed protest, beating at the man’s hands with her fists. Cursing, the man slapped her face viciously, causing her head to twist violently to the side. This caused her arms to drop to the floor beside her prone body, her fingers uncurling from the fists that she had made, and again she was motionless. Nevertheless, her attacker took her chin in his hand and turned her face upward so that he could slap the other cheek, causing her head to flop to the that side. Blood now flowed from her nostrils and the corners of her mouth in more than just trickles. She offered no further resistance as her attacker, now unimpeded, impatiently ripped the silk panties from her body, tearing the flimsy thing to shreds in the process as the young woman cried out in despair.

She was totally naked now save for the ruined blouse that covered only her shoulders, and the delicate bra that adorned her neck like a scarf. She stirred only slightly on the storeroom floor as her attacker now stood above her and slowly began to remove his own clothes.

It had been closing time. Not a single customer had come into Marcela’s clothing boutique for the last hour, and she was ready to close shop and call it a night. Her boyfriend had promised to prepare dinner for her at her apartment that night, and she was looking forward to the bottle of Shiraz that he said he was bringing. She had been in the back storeroom of the small store and was about to switch off the lights where the bell on the front door jingled, indicating that someone had entered the boutique. Her first reaction was exasperation, as she really wanted to get home and relax. But then her business sense got the better of her and she approached the customer who had just come in. Might make a few bucks today after all.

The man did not look like her typical customer. Not that he was a guy—lots of guys came in to her boutique to buy for their wives or girlfriends. And it wasn’t just because this guy looked nervous—lots of guys were nervous coming into a women’s clothing store. It was just…something Marcela couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was just instinct. The man asked to see sweaters. Marcela told him to follow her and turned to lead him to the back wall of the boutique, ignoring her instinct to not turn her back to him. This was a big mistake. The man grabbed her from behind, putting her into a full nelson. Marcela cried out as the man hustled her toward the back storage room. It was not an easy maneuver for him, as the young woman grabbed a rack of clothes to halt his progress, bringing the entire rack down in a noisy crash.

Stumbling and falling against the walls, the man was finally able to shove her into the back store room after several other displays in the retail store were knocked over. There she broke free of him and spun around to face him in a fighter’s stance. The man flipped off the light switch that darkened the front of the store. A lone light bulb illuminated the small store room. The front door to the shop was unlocked, but the man figured that with the lights out, no one would come in. In any event, a customer was unlikely; he had been casing the scene for the past hour and there had been no one coming in or out. Only the beautiful straw blonde owner of the store. All by herself.

Crouching, Marcela backed slowly away from her attacker as he approached her, her arms lifted, her fists ready. Her daddy, a former Army Ranger, had taught her how to fight. When she reached the far wall and could back up no farther, the man lunged at her. She kicked him swiftly, aiming for his crotch, but missing and hitting his thigh instead. The man backed off a step, realizing that this victim was going to be a difficult one. Indeed, several months previously a would-be rapist found out just how good of a fighter pretty, petite Marcela was. He had attacked her from behind on an isolated forest preserve jogging path as she was in her fifth mile, with glistening beads of perspiration coating her smooth, well-tanned skin. She had not only beaten the man away, but followed him as he tried to run away, calling 911 from her cell phone as she gave chase. Not only could the man not outfight her, but he couldn’t outrun her, either, and he eventually gave up and fell to the ground, begging her not to call the police as she stood over him, her fists clinched.

Seeing this latest attacker back up a step gave Marcela confidence. She ordered him to get out of her store. The man shrugged and began to turn away as if to leave, but then swung around quickly and slugged the young woman in the jaw before she could react. She staggered against a tall shelf of clothing, toppling it. As the man tried to reach for her, she grabbed his arm and spun him around and threw her own arm around his neck. Struggling and staggering, they both knocked over a second shelving of clothes. Marcela, frustrated that she could not get a good angle for his genitals, settled for s viscous knee to the tail bone. Her attacker cursed and bucked his body like a rodeo horse but was unable to throw the young woman from his back. They crashed into the third and final storage rack, sending it and its contents to the floor, which by now was littered wall-to-wall with women’s shoes and clothing.

The man’s strength, however, was undeniable. When Marcela attempted to reach around from behind him to gouge his eyes, her attacker caught her wrists and twisted them hard. She cried out in pain, and in that instant the man was able to throw her over his head. She landed with a thud on her back on the clothes-strewn floor. As she quickly rolled over, her attacker kicked her solidly in the ribs and she fell back. He was on her in an instant, punching her gut, knocking the wind from her lungs, leaving her momentarily defenseless. He used that moment to rip her blouse open, sending buttons flying in all directions.

Still gasping, not fully recovered from the loss of wind, Marcela, in a prone position, kicked at her assailant as hard as she could, again striking only thigh. Infuriated, she kicked with her other leg but again could not hit him where it hurt. Frantically, she reached for his face and scratched him fiercely with four of her nails, drawing blood. The man cursed and slapped her face hard. Her kicks and scratches had stung, and that pissed him off, but, in fact, he was a man who, the more a victim fought, the more turned on he became. He now felt a quite satisfying surge of blood in his loins. He slapped the young woman’s face once again, as hard as he could. The two blows stunned her, quieting her. It also brought a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.

He was on top of her now, straddling her. His hands went to her bra and pushed it upward, off her breasts and to her neck. He reveled for a moment at the sight of her magnificent bared breasts, but the young woman had shaken off the effects of his slaps and was struggling mightily beneath his weight. Her arms swung wildly and her legs kicked in desperation, but she was able to land only a couple of significant blows. With his weight on top of her, the man seemed to be enjoying her struggle, not unlike a cat watching the throes of a wounded bird. After letting her struggle for a long while, he slapped her face yet again, quieting her, her head knocked to the side, her bruised cheek resting upon a pile of women’s party dresses. He pulled her face back up by the chin and slapped her a fourth time. Then again. And then again. She began to cry. And to condemn herself for not having had her pepper spray handy. To think she was not safe in her own store, in a popular shopping mall! It was closing time, but right now there were still people waking by her store, not knowing what was transpiring in the store room behind the darkened boutique!

We are at the beginning of our story now. The young woman, who had indeed fought valiantly, now lay naked on her store room floor, bloody and beaten, her defiance shattered. Her vision was badly blurred from tears and from swelling due to the beating she had just received, but she could see that her attacker had stood and was loosening the belt to his pants. She tried to roll to her side but the man put a bare foot on her shoulder and with it pushed her back onto her back. Her head swung listlessly from one side to the other on the floor, blood from her nose and mouth staining several of the many women’s garments that littered the floor. Her legs stirred lethargically. The man’s pants fell to his feet which were planted inside the young woman’s ankles.

His penis, invigorated by the fight shown by his victim and the vision of her now laying at his feet, was bulging from his boxers. He quickly dropped the shorts and allowed his manhood to unfurl completely. It stood at attention as he looked down upon the nude body of his conquered prey. She was smoking hot, he thought, especially with blood and snot caking her face. Her ripe, young body was magnificent in its nakedness as it squirmed beneath him on the floor: athletic and well-toned, but with all the essential feminine curves. She was indeed the complete package. He had chosen well. His patience in stalking her and waiting until the right moment to strike was about to pay big dividends in the form of the best piece of ass he had ever had, he was sure of that.

The man kicked Marcela’s legs apart and knelt between them. She moaned and cried out softly as she felt his weight come upon her again, only this time it his bare skin against her bare skin. “No,” came the soft whimper from her throat.

The man lowered his head to her face. “No, what, sweetie?” She didn’t respond. Her face tightened in a grimace and she began to cry harder. “No, what, honey?” His voice was soft. Concerned. He carefully studied her face, caked in blood, sweat, snot and tears, and ran his fingers through her long, straw blonde hair. “No, as in, ‘don’t fuck me’?”
“Please….” was the only word she could muster, and it seemed to die before leaving her lips.

“Sorry, sweetie. I haven’t beaten the crap out of you just so I can go home now and masturbate.” His voice was that of a patient parent reasoning with an uncooperative child. “Sometimes we’ve got to go things we don’t want to do…and right now you’ve got to fuck me, sweetie, you understand?”

“No,” she whimpered. “Please leave me alone…” Her voice trailed off in the helplessness she felt.

“Sorry, sweetie,” he whispered in her ear softly. “You’re getting fucked.”

With that, her attacker wasted no further time. Kicking the young woman’s legs yet wider apart, he mounted her, his hand guiding his hardened manhood between her parted thighs. When she felt the thing nose aside the lips of her vagina, she remonstrated meekly, and got her face slapped for the umpteenth time. The blow was to her face, but reverberated throughout her entire being to the extent that every part of her body was awakened, allowing her to acutely feel the penetration of her rapist’s penis as he forced it into her. Her vaginal walls were constricted in fear, a fact that only made the sensation of his entering her all the more intense.

Marcela made the whimpering sounds of an injured rabbit as her rapist began fucking her. None of her fierce fighter’s resistance remained as the man shoved his arms under her legs and lifted them high into the air as he fucked her. Her Army Ranger father had taught her well, but evidently not well enough. As result, she now found herself stripped naked on the store room floor of her clothing boutique, her pussy filled with the cock of a ravenous rapist who had been able to beat the crap out of her and was now fucking the crap out of her. His fingers ground into the flesh of her ample breasts as he did so, massaging them, making the nipples harden to attention against their will. With her legs forced upward toward the ceiling of the store room, her feet wiggled in the air with each vigorous inward thrust that she received.

While fucking her, the man took his hands off her breasts long enough to push the young woman’s ripped blouse off her shoulder, down her arms and off. Only her bra remained, but he so much liked the way it looked wrapped around her neck, together with a thin gold neckless and pendant—a tiny gold Christian cross—that he decided to leave it there. Something about it made his cock even stiffer. The little gold cross was a turn on, too.

When her rapist came, it was in buckets, and Marcela was acutely aware of it. He ceased his fucking thrusts at the first throb of ejaculation. His dick was buried so far inside her—as deep as anatomically possible—that she keenly felt his sperm bathe the deepest recesses of her womanhood in squirt after squirt after squirt. Her rage at being raped had taken her beyond crying during the several long minutes of forced intercourse. The only sounds she made while being fucked where the little rabbit noises, as well as deep grunts whenever one of her rapist’s inward thrusts was particularly deep and/or forceful. But now that he was finished with her, and his body collapsed in exhaustion on top of her, crushing her with its weight, the tears flowed anew.

“Look at this, sweetie!” he hissed.

It had been fifteen or twenty minutes since Marcela’s rapist had ejaculated inside her. Over this period of time, both their naked bodies lay motionless on the store room floor, his atop hers in sexual exhaustion, hers beneath his in beaten defeat. He lay heavily upon her. She wanted desperately to push him off her, but could not muster the necessary strength. Instead she was forced to lie there, feeling his body, his sweaty skin against her sweaty skin. Feeling him still inside her. Somehow this was more disturbing to her than when he was actively fucking her. When she felt his now limp penis slide from her pussy, and with it an amazing amount of semen flow onto her thighs, she felt like vomiting.

At last the man stirred. He lifted himself off his victim. He straddled her body, knees resting on the floor beside her prone body at breast level. “Look at this,” he repeated, his voice harsh. His limp penis now hung in the air closely above her face as she lie prone on the floor. “You’re going to lick me clean, sweetheart. Come on, open those big, beautiful eyes of yours!”

The only response that came from the beaten woman was a whimper. Her assailant grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head up, bringing her eyes open and her bloodied face against his penis. “Suck my cock, bitch!” he shouted at her. “Open you fucking mouth and lick me clean! Lick your bitch’s cunt juice off my cock!” When she did not comply, he dropped her head and took the bra that encircled her throat and used it as a tourniquet around her neck. Marcela’s fingers gripped at the bra, but she was unable to loosen it from her throat. After struggling for ten or fifteen seconds, fearing strangulation, Marcela’s trembling lips parted slightly. Her eyes bugged. She could not help but watch cross eyed as the tip of the man’s flaccid penis came to her lips. “Open wide, god damn it”. The choking of her larynx intensified. Marcela realized this man was capable of killing her. Making a gargling sound, frantic for air, she did as her attacker commanded, opening her mouth wide. The man lowered his soft penis into it. She was rewarded by feeling the pressure of her bra around her neck loosen.

“Bite and I’ll kill you, bitch, do you understand!” Marcela gave no sign of comprehension at first as she began gagging on the foreign object now in her mouth, but when her assailant tightened the bra tourniquet around her neck, she nodded her head quickly. “You gonna bite me?” the man hissed without loosening the bra tourniquet. The young woman shook her head vigorously. One of her tear swollen eyes was wide as she stared up at her attacker and seeing in his face that his death threat was likely not a bluff. Her other eye was mostly swollen shut. “Do you hear me, sweetie? Bite my cock and I’ll knock your teeth out before I kill you, do you hear?” Marcela, with his cock in her mouth, nodded obediently.

“Suck it, sweetie! Let me feel something!” He had taken his hands from the bra tourniquet and again lifted her head off the floor. Blinking back tears, Marcela began to move the muscles of her mouth, as if she were pulling liquid through a straw. And swallowing. Sucking on the staw. Pausing to swallow. Sucking. Pausing. The result of this action was a growing penis stirring in her mouth. Becoming firmer.

“Good girl,” the man said softly as he cradled the young woman’s head as she sucked his cock. “Let me feel some tongue, baby.” Scared to within an inch of her life, Marcela obeyed her rapist. As he withdrew what was now a semi-rigid phallus from her mouth, she sought it with her tongue. It glistened with her saliva in the light of the one store room bulb—saliva that was pink from her blood.

“Look me in the eyes!” the man commanded her. Not wanting to be further strangled by her own bra, the young woman complied. Though one eye was already puffed mostly shut from her beating, the other eye, shining brightly with tears, remained wide open in fear. Slowly she began licking her vanquisher’s cock. As she did so, she was shocked, and ever more fearful, as she saw the thing grow and stiffen before her eyes—or, at least, before her one good eye. “That’s a good little girl,” he said softly as his victim’s tongue moved sensuously up and down over the ever expanding penis. “A good little girl licking a lollypop, aren’t you?” He paused in his talking to admire the scene as he held the young woman’s head and ran his hands through her straw blonde hair while her head bobbed as her tongue went up and down on the length of his shaft. “But you’re really just a little slut, aren’t you? Just a cock sucking little slut”. Marcela gave no sign of hearing him, or of caring if she did hear. Her objective at this point was to get out of this situation alive.

Before too long, the man knew his cock to once again be ready for action. He pushed the young woman onto her back and once again lifted her legs. “No,” cried, “Not again…” Saliva covered her chin.

The man ignored her and once again steered a hard cock toward the juncture of the young woman’s legs. But this time he lifted those legs a little higher, as this time his target was an opening in her body an inch south of the opening he had fucked previously. When Marcela felt the tip of his cock at her anus, she squirmed and cried out in protest. As a reward she felt a finger enter her ass and began to ream her. She cried and whined for several minutes as this finger, soon joined by a second one, stretched her anal opening, preparing it, making it ready for something bigger. Marcela pounded her fists helplessly on the store room floor.

The man removed his fingers from the young woman’s ass and quickly replaced them with the tip of his cock before the puckered lips had a chance to fully close. His captured prey, flat on her back on her store room floor, squirmed in protest against what she knew he planned to do, but her efforts were not strong enough to deny the man his intentions. Squeezing his cock at the base, he pushed forward and a full inch of his manhood entered her. A sharp cry came from Marcela’s throat as she felt the sensation of her rectum being taken. The man paused, relishing the moment, excited by the feel of the lips of the young woman’s anus gripping his cock. He then leaned into her more, and again was rewarded with a sharp cry from his victim. Had anyone been inside the boutique, they would have heard her cry coming from the store room and gone to investigate.

But no one had come in the unlocked door of the store. The lights were out. No one was going to come in. The store was closed.

The ass hole of the store’s owner was open. And plugged. Her rapist had her on her back on the store room floor, with her legs lifted before him so that her upside down ass faced him as he knelt against her, leaning into her. With two inches of his cock safely inside her, he no longer needed to hold it in place, and now wrapped both arms around the young woman’s inverted legs at the knees. As he leaned into her, forcing her feet to a position above her head, his penetration of her ass increased. Marcela’s eyes were tightly shut in grimace as she felt his penis fill her. She gave out a series of sharp cries: Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Her bare breasts heaved and rolled as she took in deep, panicky breathes. Then she was silent, but with her mouth remaining wide open and her eyes tightly shut. Slowly he leaned further into her, pushing her legs ever farther backwards until her feet were well past her head. From the side, her contorted body looked like a pretzel. Leaning even more, his entire phallus became buried to the hilt inside the beautiful young woman’s rectum. The copious amount of the young woman’s saliva on her rapist’s penis, as a lubricant, had greatly assisted him in now sodomizing her.

After gaining full penetration, the man paused, and then began moving in and out of her. This action caused pretty Marcela, on her back, to again pound the store room floor with her fists. I will KILL you, she thought to herself. I will track you down and KILL you for this! His in-and-out thrusts picked up intensity. Marcela was crying like a baby as she felt her ass being ravished by something much too big to be there. In her sobs she was swearing that if she lived through this then as god was her witness she would find this man and cut off his cock and his balls and shove them down his mouth, but at this moment, unfortunately for her, his cock was still firmly attached to his body and the thrusting lower abdomen of that body was sending it in and out of her rectum in reckless abandon. She thought she would faint from the pain.

She must have fainted, because she wasn’t aware when her rapist pulled his huge cock from her ass until he shoved it in her mouth. Her eyes had been closed and her mouth wide open, so it was easy for him to do this. Her legs had been dropped to the floor, and she gagged now on the very cock that, if she could it have her way, would be stuffed in his mouth and not hers! Cut off and jammed down his fucking throat, not mine! She looked up at him bitterly, with pure hatred and fury flashing from her one good eye.

He was fucking her face, causing her to gag profusely. And she knew what he was going to do. He was going to cum in her mouth! She shook her head violently, causing his cock to push out her cheeks, until the man grasped her by the sides of her head and held her as still as he could for the short time he need to cum. He had been on the verge of dumping his wad in her bowls, but at the last minute withdrew. He wanted to finish in her mouth. The sound of his cock exiting her ass made a slurping sound that could also have been heard in the store front had someone been there. Once inside her mouth, it took only a few thrusts before his testicles stiffened and wad after wad of creamy ejaculate was pumped down the young woman’s throat. The man’s shouts of “Yes! Yes!” reverberated within the store room’s walls. Marcela gagged so profusely that her assailant quickly withdrew from her mouth. As he did so, a trailing string of cum decorated her chin. She choked violently, and more of his cum came out of her clogged nostrils. The semen had been made pink by her blood.

As her rapist eventually stood and proceeded to get dressed, Marcela continued to lie on the floor amid the myriad dresses, blouses and shoes that had been strewn about the floor in her unsuccessful struggle for her honor. Battered and raped in three orifices, she now prayed that he would not kill her. Should she beg him? Tell him that she would not go to the police. Even to a doctor? He didn’t seem like the kind who would be susceptible to begging. So she remained there on the floor where he had left her, rolling into a fetal position and sobbing gently, afraid to move a muscle or say anything.

“You were great, baby,” she heard him say. “Stay beautiful, okay.” He paused. “Oh, by the way, go ahead and go to the police on this if you want. You’ve got enough of my DNA in you to float a battleship. I don’t give a shit if you do. Doctor’s given me a year to live. I don’t care if it’s behind bars. Fucking you was worth it. And you know what? Seeing you in court at my trial would be a blast. I could hire a lawyer that could make it last weeks, and I’d get to fuck with your head every day. I’d just look at you and smile. And every time I did, you’d remember every inch of my cock!”
He laughed and left.

Marcela could hear the jingle of the front door as he left the store. She remained lying on the store room floor, crying softly. She pulled the bra off from around her neck and over her head and flung it listlessly away from her, but other than that she did not move for a very long time. Eventually she pulled herself up. She needed water. She needed to get the taste of semen out of her mouth.

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