Biceptized
by GJ



Disclaimer: As you know this is a work of fiction, and as such ,any
resemblance to characters, names, locales and situations that may be found in
reality, is purely coincidental. GJ


I had this obsession. Every time I saw a female with huge biceps, quads, hams,
calves, pecs and glutes, I had to touch. So far I have had my nose broken
three times, my jaw wired shut four times, numerous teeth knocked out , my abs
turned to jelly requiring immediate surgery and my cheekbones and eye sockets
caved in. Yes dear reader. All this handily accomplished by strong, powerful,
sexy, women of every height, race, color and creed.

As I walked out of the Community Hospital after a four week stay, I thought
about the last woman who had worked me over. She was beautiful and I lost it
in the gym. I kept watching , you know like you dear reader...you think they
can't see but oh my they sure can. I was salivating watching this woman. She
was doing supernating hammer curls with 55lb dumbells. I could see the sweat
pooling under her arms . I imagined my tongue licking it all up, as it traced
the angry blood engorged vein that was so readily visible. Suddenly, I was
doing it! Turns out this Goddess was a nurse named Allison. The thing that was
so hard on me,( oops did I really say that), was that after this 5'9", 16lb.,
blond- haired kickboxer broke my jaw and knocked out twelve teeth, she worked
in the same hospital I was just leaving. Every time I started to heal, she
would visit me in the night and rebreak my face. Thank God she was transferred
to another hospital across town.

I had to do something fast or soon the reconstruction docs would not be able
to put me back together again. I decided to take action. I did some research
on the net and found a Dr., named Tiffany Strong, who specialized in
hypnotism. Her advert claimed she had a confirmed 100% success rate. She has
cured smoking, gambling, addiction to drugs, obesity, etc. The burning
question was could she cure my impulse to kiss, feel, fondle and adore
femuscle?

As I entered her office, I noted it cheery decor. As I browsed through the
magazine rack, I noted many bodybuilding mags, primarily devoted to the female
persuasion. How odd, don't you agree, dear reader? After gazing at the photo
shoot of a huge female with 19.5" biceps, I felt myself getting aroused big
time. What I wouldn't do or pay to lick those incredible mountains of power
and slobber over her huge fists as well. I was beginning to have this muscle
fantasy( do you ever get those in the middle of the day, the night, anytime,
dear reader? I suspect you do.) I was just going to lick her huge quads
when........................

I heard, in my mind someone say, "Good afternoon, Mr Smith...won't you step
into my office so that we might get acquainted?" Oh my God, could it be...was
I hallucinating or did my new therapist- to- be have an amazingly huge,
muscled body? As I walked inside, I could see photos of her posing and winning
numerous bb contests. She even had ones standing over hapless male opponents
in the boxing ring. They were beaten to pulps. Pinch me dear reader, do it
quickly! My dick was at attention, jism was oozing out, I had this urge...this
compulsion to touch, oh Lord, yes to run my tongue over those 18" calves, or
22" biceps, or 29" quads or those huge fists.

Soon my hand was caressing her mountainous arm. I bent down to kiss, to honor
her beauty and strength when I felt my face almost explode by the slap that
she used to bring me back to reality. I could feel tears well up inside me and
I could taste the blood that now dripped down my mouth to stain her antique
mahogany desk. "Mr Smith, I see by your file that you have muscle obsessions
about females with superior strength and power. I can cure you, but it will
not be easy. As a matter of fact, several members of the same gym have
contacted me to work on your problem."

I looked into her deep blue eyes. I was lost in them...in her full sensuous
lips, her short yet stylish hair, and her huge chest. " By the way, Mr
Smith.... you will be cleaning up your mess when and if you ever get out of
this place in one piece. You understand that....If." I shook my head in
affirmation that I did understand. My neck hurt, for her powerful slap had
dislocated some bones there, as well as the facial damage that resulted from
her open handed assault.

Once Tiffany saw me respond she began my treatment( have you guessed what it
might be yet?.) She came in front of me and did a double biceps pose as she
might have done in a recent bb comp. Then she began to flex up and down, down
and up. I longed to reach out, to stroke to taste her underarms, her tris and
those huge splits in her bis. Before I could, I heard, "Look closely, Mr Smith
...look at these pillars of power....watch them move UP and DOWN... Keep
watching DOWN and UP." Soon I was as a zombie might be, for, Dr. Strong had
biceptized me. I sat still, looking straight ahead, my bloody face pooling red
on my shirt and other parts of my attire.

Dr Strong needed to verify that I was indeed under her power. She spoke to me
in a monotone voice explaining the procedures to follow. "You appear to be a
good subject and my prognosis for your recovery is high. Let's just make sure,
shall we?" I am going to hurt you now . I am going to break you like a
wrecking ball would a house of clay. As I do you are not to move.., pass
out.........or do anything unless I give you express permission to do so.
Repeat my instructions!" I did to the letter.

Immediately, she lifted my jaw and punched me with a powerful uppercut. I
never moved, and I even kept the ten teeth she had just extracted, in my mouth
along with all that blood that was distending it outward. "Mr Smith, do not
move except to turn you face to the right 90 degrees." I complied when
CRACKKKKKKKKKK, my jaw broke right down the middle. However, I never
moved...even as the unhinged mandible flapped around like a flag in the wind.

Then I heard, "Mr Smith I am going to cave in your nose now, please face me."
I could see her huge fist turn and I could see it fly at my face. Suddenly,
that sense organ was no more. In its place was a huge hole expelling vast
quantities of gore. I never moved. Not even when she closed my eyes with one
punch to each. The bones broke like a humvee driving over a dozen eggs. Not
even when the blood from my ruined jaw, nose and eyes met, like some red
river, to pour forth all over, in a sea of crushed bone, teeth and assorted
other component parts.

As I sat there, my good Dr raised up my ruined face, examining it from all
angles. Satisfied now, she said, " Now you may expel all your fluids in the
bucket at your feet, do it now." I did opening my mouth. Soon the vessel was
filled. "Very good, Mr Smith, you may now pass out. You will do so on the
count of 3.....1.....2......3." I keeled over and landed head first in the
bucket of my own ruined face.

The rest of the time, my Muscle Doc desensitized me to every muscle in her
body. The last thing she did was to break my cheeks as I laid under her ass .
She flexed, doing butt raises and my once- structured face broke apart, like a
roof in a hurricane.

After seven long, difficult months in rebuilding my face, she came into my
room, and disrobed. She began to flex every muscle group. As she did, she
gauged my reactions. I sat there unmoving...seemingly disinterested at the
muscle show before me. Smiling, Dr Strong checked one more place......my
hospital gown was flooded with semen......my big head was betrayed by my
little one.

I cringed as I heard, "time for more therapy, Mr. Smith."In the end, I was the
one case that she could never, ever cure. It mattered not for I never made it
out of that room in one piece, now did I dear reader?"