The Hit Lady
by GJ



Dear Readers: Any characters in my story bearing any resemblance to anyone
living or dead is purely coincidental.

Franki Strong had always been blessed with amazing muscularity. She remembered
the first time she picked up a weight. She was 14 years old and was waiting
for her boy friend, Rick, in his basement, while he changed from baseball
practice. Rick was 3 years older than Franki and as she waited, she noticed
some weights carelessly thrown on the floor. Going over she picked up a 20
pounder and easily began curling it up and down. She loved the feel of it
hardness in her hand, much like the feel of Rick’s hard dick in it as well. So
as she waited, she curled. Soon her biceps were swollen with blood and she
could feel them push and stretch out her cotton muscle t that she had on.

After several minutes, Rick came down into his lair to find his beautiful girl
friend admiring her pumped up muscles. Incredulous, he yelled, "Put those
down, now! No girl friend of mine will ever lift weights." He walked over to
her and tried to force them from her hands but couldn’t budge them. Now
Franki, never a timid one, looked him in the eye and said, "You have offended
me a lot, honey. I want you to look at these." With that, the muscle maiden
did a double biceps pose for him. Rick looked into her beautiful face,
bordered by luxurious red tresses. He was speechless. What he saw was a young
girl , whose arms were bigger, harder and more peaked then his. This bothered
him greatly, being a teenage boy."Fuck off", he yelled angrily. Girls are
meant to give good head, hand jobs and not to have big goddam muscles."

Now Franki was really pissed because no one had every spoke to her this way,
let alone a boy who was supposed to care about her. "Look Rick, she said, "you
can make it up to me right now. I want you to come over and feel how hard they
are, much harder than yours I bet. After you do that I want you to cool them
off with your tongue. Lick all the sweat from them especially under my arms.
They are really smelling funky now. If you do all that I have said I won’t
have to mess up your cute face." Ok dear readers, those of you who were once
teenage boys, can you predict if Rick acceded to Franki’s demands or not.

Rick looked into her beautiful dark eyes and saw something there, something he
had never seen before. It was as if they had flint or reflected steel in them.
A tingle of fear ran up and down his back, something he didn’t know how to
handle. "Come here, he brazenly said. I want to get my hands on those
beautiful creamy 38 D tits of yours." Well Franki, always good at math counted
his third affront in almost as many minutes. Looking at him with a menacing
eye, this incredible muscle specimen of beauty and youthful sexuality calming
retorted , "Get over here now and crawl on your knees or I am going to break
your face." Rick looked at her. Now the tingle was much more. He could almost
feel himself shake with the advent of possible physical harm. Despite what he
liked to project, Rick was indeed a big pussy, a bully, a boy frightened even
by his girlfriend.

Acting in that mode, he shook his head defiantly. "You come here and suck my
cock, Franki, how about that instead." Rick was livid now. She slowly walked
over to him and smiled. Now Rick, thinking she had come to her senses relaxed.
He never saw her first punch coming. But he heard it and sure felt it. Franki
had hit him with a right cross to his mouth. Rick’s head flew back and then
steadied itself on his neck again. He also spit out 3 teeth, that Franki had
expertly extracted with that one punch. He was dazed and moaning as dark blood
shot out of his ruined mouth, spraying his favorite poster of The New York
Yankees with gore. Franki lifted his head up and whispered, "All you had to do
was respect me, do what I asked and I would have given you the best head in
the world. Now look at you, blood all over, teeth knocked out and I haven’t
even begun. You stupid bastard."

Rick was in so much pain as air now rushed into his mouth, aggravating the
area where his teeth had formerly been. He moaned so loudly that Franki needed
to shut him up. She lifted his jaw with her fist and told him not to move one
bit. He was too dazed to argue and he just stayed in that position, never
knowing what was about to happen. Franki laughed and patted his swollen face
as she praised him with a "Good Boy". Then she pulled back her fist and they
both could see the swelling in her bicep as she blasted his jaw with a
powerful uppercut. Her punch was so powerful that it shattered his already
abused jaw. He flew across the basement landing head first into the bathroom
door, shattering it. He was unconscious, dripping blood in buckets now, being
held in place by the door fragments around his head. Franki lifted it up by
pulling on his hair. She noted the jaw was hanging by a thread and she could
see that the gaps in his mouth had widened with that last punch. Feeling
particularly vicious now, she used her long pointed nail( which was
incidentally painted a frosted pink), to severe his jaw with one wicked slice.
It landed on the floor under the unsuspecting ex-boyfriend, adding rivers of
gore to the floor. Feeling for Rick’s mother, she got a bucket and placed it
under the battered boy. "Now that will help with the cleanup," she thought as
she left his house.

Well after that it was as if Franki had been born again.....oh not into any
religion...although she did feel as powerful as any deity. Soon after her
beating Rick to a pulp, she began lifting in earnest and taking all sorts of
martial arts training. Her doting parents gladly paid for everything. At age
19, Franki stood 6 feet tall, weighing at very muscular 185'bs. Her biceps
were now 18 inches and growing. She was blessed with incredible genetics. She
later found out that her grandmother was a very powerful woman, who came to
this country as a laborer, lifting heavy sacks down by the Navy Yard. Franki
now regularly fought for big money in those special clubs in New York, where
big bets were made and physical violence was expected.

Her first fight was a bare knuckle affair against a big burly guy who weighed
in at 250 pounds. He was a street fighter and lacked any finesse but he never
lost a contest. As Franki entered into the deserted warehouse she could make
out a group of men with large amounts of cash in their hands. Her opponent,
Brutus the Masher was already there. As she took off her sweatshirt, she
limbered up doing some karate kicks, some deep knee bends and a very brief
kata. Her t shirt caught the eye of the bettors who looked on and began
placing bets furiously. It said Eat My Fists. When the spectators saw how
muscular she was, they soon placed higher wages on her, after all she was the
underdog and they could clean up if things worked out right.

Now I could go into how Brutus finally ended up in intensive care, hanging on
to his life by a thread. But do you really want me to bore you with all that,
Dear readers? Well, do ya? Sure you do so here goes. As the fighters
approached each other, they were given instructions. Basically there were none
expect the winner is the one who knocks out his/her opponent, no ifs ands or
butts. How it is done is not important. Brutus, having the unfair weight
advantage, came in swinging his huge hands. Franki merely sidestepped him and
let him swing away. She reasoned he was not a conditioned athlete like she
was. Still she wanted to test him out so as he passed, she clocked him on the
jaw with a tremendous left hook. Normally the fight would be over, but then
Brutus was no normal man. He shook off her punch and spit out one front tooth,
roaring with anger as he did. He came at his very beautiful female opponent
and hit her in the solar plexis with a powerful uppercut. To his amazement, he
pulled his arm back in pain because her abs were like steel. He couldn’t know
that Ricki regularly trained by having her handler hit her in the stomach with
a baseball bat. Those big heavy bats would now shatter upon impact with her
incredible stomach muscles.

Ricki took the opportunity to punch him with one overhand punch which
connected with his pug ugly nose. As expected, it broke under her mallet fist.
It also drenched every person standing within a ten foot radius. Seizing the
moment, Ricki hit him in the mouth with a right cross that actually knocked
his head back. He spit out 4 teeth this time. He had a semi glazed look now.
Ricki, always one to play, upon seeing his condition yelled,"Hey be happy
those teeth were disgusting yellow anyway. " This brought a frenzy of noise
from the people forming a circle around these two unlikely boxers.

The Masher, devoid of brain power in a good day, realized he had never been
hit so hard in his life, especially by a fucking bitch with muscles. He
decided to charge her and knock her down and beat her face in. This was a
great plan expect that Ricki was capable of handling any situation. As he
charged to grab her Ricki kicked him in the face with a front strike, sending
him to the ground. He was now a bloody mess because that kick had fractured
his jaw on the left side. Yet, he wasn’t done by any means. He tried getting
up and fell down on the ground again causing the wooden floor to break. In the
mean time Ricki taunted him with, "Come on get up you fat piece of shit I want
to work you over some more." Then she began flexing her now sweaty, funky arms
for the crowd. They loved it and responded accordingly.

Using super will power, Brutus did manage to stand up and ran right into a
left hook from his female nemesis. The effect of this punch broke his
cheekbone on the right side with an audible Crunchhhhhhhhh. She decided to
work on the other side of his face so she hit him with the exact same punch
with the other hand. The effect was exactly the same, same force, same result.
Now Brutus was in bad shape but Ricki wanted to showboat for those people who
had bet on her, so she continued to hit him over and over concentrating on
closing his eyes, breaking his jaw repeatedly on both sides, caving in his
nose, knocking out every tooth he had left, causing him to lose pints of blood
in the process. Speaking of which he was covered in the red sticky gore as was
she. One could no longer read the cute slogan on her shirt as his blood
covered it up and its wetness made her incredible boobs stand out. We have all
heard of a wet t shirt contest where water was the agent of choice, but never
an opponent’s blood.

Franki kept this assault up for ten more minutes. Soon his face looked like
raw hamburger ,

rare and very bloody. That’s just the way she liked her opponents to look.
Well this one was about done. She wanted to end the match in a spectacular way
so she stopped punching him. He was bobbing and weaving drunkenly in front of
her. Remembering her first punch out, she wanted it to end in the same way. Do
you remember dear readers? Sure you do! Franki lifted his face up and looked
into that yucky goo that she had created."Now don’t move handsome....Momma is
gonna make it all better right now." She pulled back her blood-caked fist for
the last time and turned to wink at the assembled high rollers. As she turned
back she noted that her beaten opponent’s head had fallen back onto his chest,
so she had to adjust it again. When she was satisfied, she pulled back and
waited....drawing out the maximum suspense that she could. The onlookers could
see the sweat under her arms and those close enough could even smell them.
Finally she hit him with the most powerful punch she had ever thrown. It
started at her shoes and ended up with a DETONATION on his broken jaw. The
deafening noise was followed soon after by the dramatic effect......Brutus’s
jaw disconnected from his face and flew out into the crowd. Brutus fell face
down, forever permanently damaging his already punched in nose.

Franki posed for the crowd by lifting Brutus up by his hair. She allowed those
with cameras to take candid shots of what she had inflicted on him. As a final
tease, she lifted him up overhead in a clean and jerk movement and brought him
back down on her 30" quad, shattering his back in 5 places. So that dear
readers is how he ended up fighting for his life in intensive care. If any of
you are interested, he lost that final fight and was buried in a huge coffin.
The funeral home people wondered what had happened to his jaw, for it was
clearly gone. But we know, don’t we?

It was not long after that fight that one onlooker propositioned Franki to
come work for him. It was then that she embarked on a new career....as The Hit
Lady.