The Nightmare of a Schmoe




An imaginary account of how vulnerable some actual men are to their very
addiction. This tale makes no pretensions that these men are potentially in
danger of the worst exploitation by the women they idolize.

Address all comments regarding any of my stories to harlequin2943@hotmail.com

Wilson Mckee was laughed at secretly by a particular set of female athletes.
Female bodybuilders referred to him, derisively, as a "Schmoe".

Women bodybuilders had observed that there were certain men in this crazy
world that were beyond fans and absolutely enslaved to this particular sport.
These men worshipped the women that were involved in bodybuilding to such a
degree that monetary gifts, tribute web sites, marriage proposals, and an
overall groupie fascination was typical of these men. Female bodybuilders,
growing accustomed to this phenomenon and increasingly becoming disgusted with
it, coined a backhanded insult in referring to these men. They gave these men
the derogatory title of "Schmoe".

Wilson Mckee was in the camp of the "Schmoes". He had the reputation of
spending many hours adoring photos and videos of pro women bodybuilders on the
internet. Wilson had once been daring enough to pay one of them for a
wrestling session. It had been an expensive endeavor since you pay for the
session, plane ticket, room and board, and incidental expenses.

Wilson's lifestyle had caused some heartaches along the way as well. Twice,
marriage engagements were broken off because the girl felt she couldn't
measure up to the muscular standards Wilson had desired for any future wife.

Wilson's strong preoccupation to the sport also concerned his friends and
family who sensed it was overall unhealthy. Even his car had bumper stickers
plastered all over with phrases like "Female bodybuilders rule", "Strong women
are real women"," I love FBB's", "Follower of female biceps", and "Ms. Olympia
rocks" . If Wilson was only looking at the pictures there wouldn't have be
such a cause for alarm, but his fantasies often slipped out in everyday talk
and made even casual conversations with him awkward. Some people would even
make the comment that he had a one-track-female-bicep-mind.

This caused Wilson to more and more isolate himself from friends and family
and naturally increase his time on the internet. His only outings were to work
and back, the store and if a bodybuilding competition or expo was scheduled
within a hundred miles. All of this eating, breathing and sleeping female
bodybuilding was about to take an interesting turn

It was late Saturday night and Wilson had been at his computer since 6:30 .
His eyes were stinging from long hours gazing at internet photos. Wilson
grabbed a cold burrito, wolfed it down and slumped into bed. His darkest
fantasies continued to run wild as he slowly faded in to a deep sleep. A good
two hours passed and suddenly Wilson groggily awoke to a rattling noise on the
bedroom window. The next sound he heard was the window sill sliding open
obviously from the exterior of the little house he rented. Quickly he rolled
over to turn on the lamp on the nightstand and watched in horror as a single
leg covered by cargo pants stepped in to the room. "Hey, Hey, Hey" !!! shouted
Wilson thinking that might be enough to scare the would be burglar.
Breathlessly he watched the rest of the body slightly struggle through the
window and reveal a woman of unreal beauty and physique. The room filled with
the scent of cocoa butter and a tanned Amazon stood at the foot of his bed.
Her hair especially stood out as a landmark feature; It was milk chocolate
brown and the length draped all the way to the small of her back. She wore a
well worn, faded red sports bra and military green cargo pants that, despite
their style, fit quite snug. She had the piercing eyes of Courtney Shiflet,
the impish grin of Sherry Smith, the sensuality of Angie Salvagno, and the
build of Yaxeni Orequen. His knowledge of professional female bodybuilders
quickly led him to these kind of conclusions often when he first saw new
photos on the internet.

"Lights out asshole!" she shouted and moved quickly to the lamp and knocked it
from the nightstand to the sound of glass crashing against the closet door.
"Who...who...are...you'? Wilson said in a voice register of fear knowing he
probably sounded like a wimp. "Shut up" she demanded and grabbed him by his
throat and pushed his head further in to his pillow. "Just keep your stupid
mouth shut , YOU CUNT !" she further shouted. Wilson didn't know how to
evaluate this situation or especially why she called him a cunt. She released
her hold on his neck and briefly allowed him to recover his breath. She didn't
give him more than fifteen seconds though and then slapped him in a
left-cheek-right-cheek two handed fashion. As Wilson moaned the painful blows
the mysterious woman again clutched his neck and in a terrorizing voice said
"I said keep you stinkin mouth shut"!. He motioned that he would and she
slowly took her hand away from his hurting neck.

Without warning, the woman began to pull her pants down in a deliberate
fashion and mounted Wilson's body. She yanked his briefs off violently and
began the act of sexual intercourse. The feeling felt incredibly strange for
Wilson though. As her brutal manner intensified it became evident that,
physically speaking, something was horribly wrong. Wilson guessed that she had
been using a large dildo but how did she penetrate him from the front? When
she groaned he felt a warming sensation flow in to his lower region. She
slowly put her muscular arms on the bed and pushed her self up and pulled out
as quickly as she penetrated. She laughed a sinister laugh to herself and
reached down to retrieve her cargo pants and sandals. Wilson was petrified in
fear and slowly reached down to feel his penis. To his utter shock no penis
could be felt but rather the familiar "Fur burger" and slit of the opening of
a vagina. "I've been raped" Wilson thought to himself as the woman continued
her devilish laugh. "This is just a bad dream" he then consoled himself with.
"It was probably that lousy burrito" he continued to reflect. The woman on the
other hand did seem incredibly real. "But women with penis's and men with
vaginas are only the stuff of nightmares", he thought as he laid back, closed
his eyes and tried to nod off from the whole experience.

Again the woman brought a stinging slap to his right temple and said "Now give
me your wallet!".

"It's over on that dresser" Wilson said with a big smile on his face. He knew
this nightmare was going to be something he'd talk about for days. "I also
want your bank pin number, your checkbook, and your social security card" she
said with a matter of fact tone. "9541,and the check book is in the second
drawer with the social security card tucked in the sleeve. She scooped up all
3 items and then reached in to one of the large cargo pant pockets to grab a
pair of handcuffs. She clasped his wrists in to the handcuffs and braced them
to the bedpost. Finally she pulled the telephone cord out of the wall and
without as much as an acknowledgment of his presence began her window escape.
"It's all good lady" Wilson said as she curled her body to fit the window
opening. "I'll be waking up from all this in a couple hours" he said with a
small guffaw. Exhausted and exhilarated Wilson fell back to sleep

The next morning he woke up to an overcast Sunday morning. The vividness of
the dream was still in his mind but he had no desire to get out of bed. There
were no signs of handcuffs and of course his penis was in tact. He didn't know
why but he didn't want to get out of bed and his genital area was very sore.
He fell back asleep and didn't wake up again until 12:30 pm. Even then he
wanted to stay in bed and relive the delicious nightmare at least in his
memory. For a second time he fell asleep and came to an hour later. His penis
and scrotum were throbbing in pain and he couldn't understand why. Nor could
he give an account for the raw dull ache on his face. He also felt nauseous in
a way he never had experienced.

Wilson figured a tall latte was just the medicine he needed and looked for his
wallet so he could drive to the local Starbucks. One hour later he was still
in search mode for the wallet he was never without. Thinking of the dream he
began to wonder if the checkbook was gone as well. Opening the second drawer
he discovered the checkbook was indeed gone. He ran to the computer to look at
his online bank account and his blood turned cold when he saw that his savings
had almost been cleaned out by withdrawals from different ATMs. The
withdrawals had all taken place within the last 5 hours. The phone then rang
and it was VISA asking about some recent purchases. "About 10:00 am there was
a large charge of $2000.00 made at Stereo City, and then about $450.00 charged
at some bodybuilding supplement store and then another $300.00 at a beauty
supply store." the woman said on the other end. "Are these your purchases"?
She said with concern. "I...I...I...don't think so...."Wilson stuttered
through a feeling of total violation and helplessness. His cell phone then
rang and another credit card company was calling to verify a different string
of mega charges within the span of 2 hours. If checks were written as well, he
knew they'd all bounce but that wouldn't become apparent until Monday night at
least. As for his Social security card, he realized she'd be able to get a
credit line and who knows what she'd purchase with that. All this at the hands
of some one whose body he idolized. Wilson never could have imagined such a
plundering of his personal finances by the kind of woman he put on a pedestal.
This was the painful sting of what they nowadays call IDENTITY THEFT. With a
lose of coherency to his speech he begged the women representing the credit
cards an hour to emotionally recover.

In vain he looked for clues around the house to what exactly happened but all
to no avail. 90 minutes later while Wilson sat at his kitchen table in a
depressive funk, the phone rang again. It was a detective from the local
police that had been contacted by the Wilson's bank. Sergeant Greenlaw would
be coming over for a full investigation of the matter. Wilson agreed but his
heart sank as he struggled to fabricate a believable story the officer might
accept.

15 minutes later Sergeant Greenlaw arrived to interview Wilson. The phrasing
of questions to Wilson were so embarrassingly scrutinizing that his whole body
shook in fear. Greenlaw told him everything this muscular thief had
accomplished in the span of 8 hours and Wilson fully realized just how deadly
this woman was. On top of all the credit charges there was another $2000.00
from forged checks. To top it off she used the social security card to get a
line of credit to purchase a Dodge Viper. "Obviously she was able to secure a
fake ID" Greenlaw said in a casual manner. ( In an erotic moment, Wilson
thought to himself that she'd look hot driving around town in a Viper.) Still
the officer was relentless in his examination and more than not questions were
asked that Wilson couldn't answer. "Why did you wait so long to report your
wallet and checkbook were missing?......How did the ATM pin number get
found?....Why are you insisting this happened in a dream?....etc" The grilling
was leading Greenlaw to a conclusion that Wilson had voluntarily given these
items to a woman he had an infatuation with. Still Greenlaw assured Wilson he
would do all he could to bring this woman to justice.

An arrest was never made of the mysterious female bodybuilder. A crude pencil
sketch was made and printed on a wanted list but no one came forth to identify
her.

"In a real sense this really wasn't theft at all" The sergeant would later
write in his report. The bank and credit card companies accepted this
conclusion and by Tuesday morning Wilson's credit was utterly ruined.

EPILOGUE:

At his family's insistence Wilson submitted to a one year session with a
clinical psychiatrist to help him deal with his female bodybuilder addiction;
the proverbial "Schmoe" tendency.

During the time spent with Wilson the psychiatrist performed some regressive
hypnotherapy to discover what exactly happened the night of the theft. The
following was revealed and given to the family, police and Bank.......

On the night of the theft Wilson fell victim to his female bodybuilder
addiction and his life long physical handicap of sleepwalking. On that fateful
Saturday night he fell asleep at the computer and then walked to the local
Taco Time. While there he noticed a muscular woman sitting at a booth opposite
him. He struck up a conversation with her and learned she was in the midst of
a long trip. She was on her way to Seattle to compete in the Emerald Cup and
had stopped just long enough to get some coffee to stay awake. As the
conversation increased she came to the hidden realization that this guy was a
classic schmoe. In a devilishly inspired moment she ordered him to tell her
where he lived, go home and wait for her in the bedroom. Wilson, still under
his sleepwalking condition, dutifully responded to this command with
robot-like precision.

The intercourse portion of the nightmare storyline never really happened but
the experience was so intense his brain reconfigured gender functions to a
high degree. Her violence against him was real enough and he had willingly
given her all his valuables to carry out the most extreme crime of identity
theft.

A year later Wilson browsed the photos of the Emerald Cup winners at the web
site. There was the mysterious woman he had met at Taco Time. Overall winner
of the 2006 competition. "Champion bodybuilder and master criminal" Wilson
muttered to himself.