JIMP#21: Harry Carter & The Calves of Fear + The Strong Armed Cleaner
By Jimp
A Businesswoman's calves & the mighty arms of a cleaner brutally destroy men


The following story contains descriptions of sex and violence. If this offends
you or if you are under the legal age of consent in your country do not read
on. Any likeness to anyone dead or alive is purely coincidental.

(c) JIM P 2010

*************

My name is Jim Priest and I'm a Private Detective. Sounds cool doesn't it?
Unfortunately getting roughed up by a Kitchen Maid who had stolen a decryption
device that could have solved a hundred year old mystery wasn't cool
[JIMP#19]. It also wasn't cool to discover that her accomplice, John, had been
present when I found the cryptographic key. Trying to trace them soon revealed
that they had used false surnames. Their friends and colleagues at work were
none the wiser. I tried to contact St.Agatha's Domestic Service College in
London who had supplied staff to Bristlingdown Manor for over 100 years.
However, they refused to speak me about their graduates. Visiting the college
in person was a waste of time as the security men on the door refused me entry
unless I had an appointment. Trying to get an appointment was fruitless.

Just when things looked bleak, I received a letter sealed with the impression
of a multi-limbed Asian goddess. Curious to be receiving something from the
mysterious Amazon organisation I only knew as The Sisterhood, I opened the
envelope. Inside was a job advert for the post of IT manager at St.Agatha's
and a reference from The Salvation Army on headed notepaper from Major Anne
[JIMP#15,16]. I also noted a small stylistic representation of an angel at the
bottom.

A few weeks after submitting my CV and application form, I received an
invitation for an interview with Gill Butcher, the director of training and
recruitment. Wearing my only suit, black shoes, white shirt & a tie, I arrived
at the college. St.Agatha's is a large spectacular neo-classical building in
the heart of London dating back to the late 18th Century. Signing in at the
security desk, the uniformed guard told me "Somebody will be down in a few
minutes to collect you, Mister Priest. Please take a seat". I waited anxiously
for several minutes occasionally glancing down the long high-ceilinged
corridor that I can see on the other side of the glass panelled security door.

Finally, I see a petite woman approaching wearing a smart white satin jacket
and trousers over a high necked black top and wearing very high heels. At
first glance I thought that she was oriental but as she neared the security
door, I realised I was mistaken. Her jet-black hair was cut in a shoulder
length bob with a full fringe that completely covered her ears. Standing
barely over 5' in her high heels, the woman was slim with a small bust.
Mature, she had a small elfin face with slim dark eyebrows framing small
slender eyes. The eyelids were lightly enhanced with a pale blue eye shadow.
Her nose was long and sleek with daintily swept back nostrils. A pleasant
thin-lipped medium-sized mouth glossed with a pale pink lipstick sat above a
small firm chin and jaw. The overall effect was of a pleasantly attractive
mature professional woman. Opening the door she looked at me and said "Mister
Priest, please come this way". Her voice was slightly low with a cold detached
tone. Her smile highlighted prominent cheeks and pearly white teeth. A fair
number of faint wrinkles on her face and neck together with faint liver spots
on her hands suggested to me that perhaps she was in her late fifties.

Gill led the way down the long corridor with a small attempt at chitchat about
the weather and the state of public transport. Rooms led off from the
corridor, the decor making little concession to modern living. "St.Agatha's is
a grade II listed building which means we have to make every effort to
maintain its historical character whilst delivering education to modern
standard" she told me. Turning off through an open double doorway, we came to
a landing for a very grand, very wide staircase that spiralled in rectilinear
lines from below then climbed to levels above. "Very impressive" I commented,
looking at an extremely long chandelier suspended down the central stairwell
and a large atrium above. "St.Agatha's has two basement levels and three
levels above ground" Gill explained as we climbed to the highest floor. After
walking along yet another corridor and stopping at a drinks machine to collect
coffees we reached Gill's office.

The room was large with a desk at the far end, several seats and various
cupboards and units with office equipment around the sides. The main central
area was empty. "Please sit down" she said indicating a chair then sat on the
opposite side of the desk. Sipping her coffee, the woman read through my CV.
From the expression on her face, she didn't seem impressed. Without looking up
she said "Jim Priest. Any relation to the private detective who keeps sticking
his nose into other people's business?". Without waiting for an answer she
continued scanning the page. "No management experience. No experience in the
education sector. Not very promising". Her expression changed however when she
read the letter of reference, her eyes opening wide with astonishment. She had
clearly seen something there that I hadn't spotted. Her whole attitude changed
from outright dismissal to one of reluctant acceptance. "Well Mister
I'm-not-a-private-eye Priest. I don't understand why and I don't like it but
it seems that you've got the job".

She started to rise, signalling that the interview was at an end.
"Confirmation of your engagement will be posted to you by the end of week" she
said extending her hand. I suspected that she worked for The Sisterhood.
Taking her small hand in mine, I looked into her small brown eyes and asked
"are you able to tell me the whereabouts of the Bristlingdown decoder?".
Slipping her hand away she snapped "I have no idea of what you are talking
about, Mister Priest". I started to explain about the device but she wasn't
interested and cut me off. "I may be obliged to give you this post but do not
look to me for assistance. That will be all. Goodbye Mister Priest". She
headed towards the door, I was clearly dismissed. As I got to the door Gill
moved close and looked up with her hard brown eyes. "I expect a high standard
of staff discipline. You keep your nose out of my business or I will break
you". Opening the door, she smiled and said loudly "Goodbye Mister Priest. I
look forward to you joining us".

I started work a few weeks later. The daily commute into London by train was a
killer until I established a pattern of starting work mid-morning to miss the
worst of the rush hour and working late to miss the return crush. Luckily the
job gave me a good excuse to snoop around as I performed an 'audit' of the
existing network. This also gave me an excuse for hanging around after most
people had left for home so that my audit would avoid impacting lessons and
administrative duties. Gill also seemed to be a late worker, although I had
the suspicion that it might have been to keep an eye on me. Although we
acknowledged each other, her cold demeanour made it clear that she didn't want
to be friendly. That all changed one night several weeks later.

********

Harry Carter prided himself as being the best safe cracker in London. When he
was approached about this job, he accepted without reservation. They had paid
handsomely for his services many times before. He got a couple of lads young
enough to tailgate students without alerting the guards to scout the layout
over a period of time.

Friday evening was when most people had left early for the weekend. Harry and
his boys entered the college using a little used basement side door that the
young men had earlier propped ajar and disabled the alarms. Stealthily they
made their way to the principal's office on the top floor. Easily unlocking
the door, Harry entered and spotted the large floor standing safe in the
corner. "Make sure I'm not disturbed" he told the boys then closed the door
behind him. Harry prided himself as a master of his craft and spent several
minutes observing the safe before even touching it, gaining the measure of his
adversary.

Outside, the boys spot a man with black curly hair wearing a suit, walking
down the corridor. He reminds them a bit of Tom Hanks, although he was about
5'8", medium built and slightly podgy. The middle-aged man kept glancing
nervously at them then entered an office a few doors down. "He clocked us.
I'll take him out" said Weasel, a tall lanky youth with a long thin pointed
face and small beady eyes. Like his companion, he wore a black hoodie and
jeans. Approaching the office Weasel can hear voices, a man speaking with a
woman. Signalling to the other boy, Skunk, he raised two fingers. Skunk, a
short messy thuggish boy gave him the V in return. Shaking his head he mouthed
'two people'. Seeing that Skunk was joining him, he drew a crowbar from the
back pocket of his jeans and entered.

With the man is a small mature woman wearing a white blouse, brown jacket with
a knee length brown leather skirt, black fishnets and high heels. He slams the
crowbar against the top of a side unit making them jump. Pointing with it to
the man he told him "You, over here in front of me". He was going to take out
the threat by coshing the bastard. The leather skirt and fishnets on the old
bird were quite hot and he fancied getting his dick in there. The woman spoke
in a firm authoritive voice "What is the meaning of this? where's your pass?".
"Shut up and start getting your knickers off. You, over here mate, I won't
tell you again". Just then Skunk arrived. "Don't chat with them, just bash
them and go" he said.

Gill stepped forwards. "Who are you and why are you here? Answer me now" she
demanded. Skunk sneered "Phoar nice skirt luv. You're going catch my dick in
those fishnets in a minute". The youths gave a dirty laugh. Gill replied, "How
dare you! You two are well out of your depth. I have you know that I'm a
champion in Ballroom and Salsa". The youths laugh outrageously, "Oooh what?
You're going to dance us to death". They laughed again.

Suddenly the woman starts to move as if dancing to some silent Latin rhythm.
Her elfin face smiling, her hips swayed as she sashayed across the room,
stepping forward and back, extending a very shapely calve as she placed a foot
out to one side then the other. All the time her upper body is kept straight
seemingly unaffected by the movements of her hips and legs. The way the petite
woman moves is quite sensuous, calling upon primitive emotions, the leather
skirt and fishnets adding to the allure. The youths and the man look on in
appreciation. Well into her dance, she throws in an occasional low kick to one
side then the other. Moving onto one toe, she swiftly brings her knee up very
high level with her chest, her skirt riding up high to reveal shapely legs in
all their glory. "Phroarwow" moans the curly haired man. The youths couldn't
agree more.

The bright fluorescent lights overhead reflects off the sexy leather skirt as
it and the fishnet covered shins dance, mesmerising the three males with their
sensual movement. Smiling, the petite bob haired woman slinks up to Skunk.
Going onto one toe, she repeats the high knee move. Three pairs of eyes watch
the leather skirt ride high up her thigh. One feels a knee hammered forcefully
between his legs lifting him to his toes. The groins of the other men contract
in sympathy. "Arggg!". With tears in his eyes and his groin ablaze with pain,
Skunk has to hold onto the sexy firm thigh for balance as the dancer keeps her
knee held high for several agonising moments. "Now are you feeling more
talkative young man?" the ball buster asks.

It takes several seconds for Weasel to snap out of his astonishment. "You
bitch" he cries raising his crowbar and stepping forward to hit her. Gill
lowers her knee and turns to face her attacker. With an expression halfway
between relief and agony, Skunk crumples cupping his balls. In a movement of
pure elegance, the mature woman steps forward raising herself onto one toe
while her other leg swings up in a beautifully delivered dancers high kick.
Weasel feels the sole of her shoe slam into his jaw driving it forcefully into
the upper jaw with a teeth-crunching thud. His head is snapped back fast by
the powerful kick, scrambling his senses. He feels the back of his skull hit
the floor heavily.

Skunk is shocked at how easily the small mature broad had dropped Weasel.
Stooped, cupping his balls, he shuffles towards the door, but the deadly Salsa
expert blocks him. Before he can react, he feels small hands grab the sides of
his head and pull it down. At the same time he sees a fishnet-covered knee
hurtling towards his face. Without time to scream, Skunk feels the knee
jackhammer solidly against his jaw in an explosion of pain before the
shockwave hits his brain.

Picking himself off the floor and feeling his aching jaw, Weasel sees the
woman in the leather skirt shove Skunk's head into the side of a photocopier
then slam the lid on it. Skunk's limp arm accidentally activates the machine,
which starts to take copies of his unconscious face in noisy blinding flashes.
"Stay where you are" the dark haired man told him. With a sneer Weasel turned
to face the soft looking middle-aged man. "I'm going to smash your wimpy face
to a bloody pulp mate then it's her turn" he sneered. The man swings Weasel's
crowbar in front of him. Weasel watches warily as the man drives him back
swinging the crowbar, looking for an opening. A hard bump against his backside
and he finds himself backed against the photocopier. "Come on then, you wimp"
he shouts to the man with the crowbar. In his peripheral vision he sees
fishnet-covered calves stretch out either side of his head in a wide V from
behind his head. He realises that the old Salsa bitch is sitting on the
photocopier lid behind him, Skunk's head squashed beneath. Before he can turn
to face this new threat he sees a rapid blur of motion and what feels like two
sharp rocks hammering into the carotid nerves either side of his neck.

********

Harry opened the safe with a smile of smug satisfaction then stared in wonder
at the contents. There was more in here than what he was asked for. Oh well,
perks of the job. He was going to need to boys to carry off this amount of
swag. Opening the office door he looks into corridor surprised to see it
empty. "Where are they ?" he mutters to himself then hears a commotion from an
office a few doors down. Annoyed Harry walked up the corridor and looked in.
He was amazed to see Weasel on the floor and Skunk stuck in the photocopier,
both out cold. Harry spotted a dark haired man in a suit and a mature
elfin-faced woman in a blouse and leather skirt. The bloke didn't look tough
but he'd obviously taken out the boys. "Excuse me? Who are you and why are you
in my building this late?" the woman demanded in a strict no-nonsense voice.
"Sorry love. My name's Harry. I was called by Principal Newman to fix his safe
which was sticking" replied Harry. Harry watched as the woman walked towards
him, smiling. "My name is Gill. It's a name you should fear, unless you tell
me the truth. What's your surname Harry?" she asks. "Hawkins. Harry Hawkins"
he lied. "I don't think so" said the black haired man. "Why did you send these
boys to attack us?" the woman asked. "I've never seen them before in my life,
luv" he replied.

Harry is astonished to feel the woman place her hands on his shoulders then
press her chest against him. Looking down into the woman's eyes, it is an
almost affectionate embrace as Gill presses her body into him. "Time's almost
up" she says softly. "What the..." Harry gasps in surprise as he feels a calve
wrap itself behind his lower legs and pull them very tight against her other
leg. "Arr" he grunted as a clamp-like grip locked his calves so hard that his
feet were forced together. Try as he might, Harry couldn't move his feet, it
felt like they were encased in a steel trap. "If you were to fall with your
legs caught like this, you would break them" she purrs looking up at him. Her
hands leave his shoulders momentarily and give him a hard shove. "No!" Harry
cries in alarm as he falls backwards, his shins still locked in her steely
grip. Just as he feels the tension build in his shins Gill releases her grip
but its too late. "Owwwww! No no Oh god you broke my legs. Oww it hurts. Oh
god get me an ambulance. Oww quick!". "Typical man. You sprain your ankles and
you think you've broken your legs" the woman says "Tell me the truth or I
really will break things". Harry winced as he tried to move his feet, the
ankles really felt broken.

"Jim will you fetch me that water melon in my shopping bag please?". Harry was
baffled as the woman took the large ball of fruit and held it towards
him."Harry. Imagine this is your skull. Watch carefully" she told him. Turning
her back to him, Harry stared in amazement at the sight before him. Rising
from her high heels, the woman's very slim ankles tapered gently at first with
a thick vertical ridge of, tendon he guessed it was, alongside. The calve
muscles themselves made Harry gape, they weren't slender and lady-like, nor
where they big and muscled like an athlete. Instead the calve heads jutted out
widely on either side resembling two flesh covered balls of muscle each
slightly bigger than a baseball with a deep cleft in between.

In fascination he watched as Gill made several awkward attempts to position
the fruit between her calves. Then standing straight, she slowly raised
herself to her toes. Harry saw the sensual movement of the muscles under her
skin as they slid, the balls of muscle becoming larger and more defined. The
jutting calves were so solid that they seemed to be digging into the
watermelon. For a while nothing seemed to be happening, then Gill lowered her
heels. Impossible Harry thought, and then she was raising herself on her toes
once more, the muscles sliding sensually like continental plates under her
skin. This time the calves seemed sharper and harder than before. It started
with a small red horizontal gash appearing on one side near the middle then it
spread into a substantial gaping tear and then the watermelon collapsed as it
lost all integrity. Harry had to swallow, breathing heavily and experiencing a
strange tingling in his groin. He noticed with disgust the black haired man's
excitement as he wiped down Gill's calves with a towel then started feeling
and kissing them.

"Time for that later Jim" Gill scolds. "So Harry. Are you ready to tell me the
truth or shall I do to your skull what I did to that innocent piece of
fruit?". Harry wasn't buying that; it was just a piece of fruit. A clever
party piece but she couldn't really hurt a man like that. "Help me first. Call
me an ambulance and I'll tell" he pleaded.

Gill's stern face and tone of voice made him like a naughty schoolboy. "Very
well. You leave me no choice". Harry frowned as the woman knelt on Skunk's
chest, her leather skirt riding up sexily around her thighs. He also
appreciated the sexy fishnets. SLAP! SLAP! The sound of the woman's hard open
palmed slaps resounding on the boy's face reverberated in the large room.
Harry was about to complain when he saw Skunk come round, rubbing his cheek.
"Ow!" Skunk exclaimed feeling his jaw. "Was my salsa too much for you too
handle young man?" Gill mocked, as she stood up over his face with her hands
on her hips. I bet he'll enjoy that view, he thought. "Harry would rather
sacrifice you then tell me the truth so you only have him to blame for this"
she told the boy.

Looking around, Skunk spotted him. "Harry, what's going on?". "Well he knows
you Harry, even though you say you don't know him. Maybe this will force you
to remember him" she said coldly. Swiftly Gill turned so that she now faced
the boy's feet. The movement made Skunk look up at the fishnet nylon clad legs
towering above him. Smart black high-heeled shoes closed in around his neck.
Bending forward, Gill grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled with both
hands drawing Skunk's neck into a standing calve scissors. Skunk gasped as it
felt like his neck was trapped between two rocks that were being slowly driven
into him. Out the corner of his eye, he is shocked at how far the woman's
calve heads stick out from her legs. Instinctively he grabs them to prise them
apart but is stunned to find that they are solid and unmovable. "Argh please
they're digging into my neck" he cries. "Stupid boy! I haven't even started
yet" Gill replied. Slowly she raised herself on her toes, lifting Skunk's neck
so that his head was now angled towards the floor allowing Harry to see the
pained expression on his face as her calves flared against his neck. "Argg No
argh please it really hurts!".

Harry again watched the sexy way the woman's muscles moved to form tight
rugged balls. There was an unmistakable air of raw power that emanated from
those tight toned muscled balls that was strangely feminine and alluring. For
some reason the sight of the young man totally helpless between the small hard
rounded calves of a petite mature woman was incredibly sexy in a way that
disturbed Harry. He wasn't a pervert; he didn't go in for weird fetishes, yet
the sight before him was turning him on. "Arggh please it hurts so much. No
more please, they're crushing into my neck". Skunk was actually in tears. He
felt the outer calve heads grow harder and sharper as they expanded under his
hands. His face was a mask of misery as the inner calves bulged just as much
in opposition, digging deeply into his neck. His face was sheer agony, his
hands held on her calves as if they were wing mirrors. Skunk was reduced to a
quietly sobbing mess. "My calves have cut the blood from his brain" the woman
said coldly. Lowering herself momentarily, Skunk's face showed little sign of
relief. The woman in the leather skirt raised herself again, the calves
seemingly solidifying into even harder, much sharper balls. The cleft between
the calves looked deeper, more defined and formidable. Harry was aghast to see
Skunk's eyes glaze over, his face relax and his hands slip limply to the
floor. Still scissoring the boy hard, Gill informs him in a detached tone "He
is out cold. If I keep cutting the blood off he'll get brain damage and I
could eventually kill him. Which is it to be Harry?".

Chills run down Harry's spine at the ruthless coldness of this woman. Yet at
the same time, he was turned on that those sexy fearsome calves had totally
knocked out a man, completely overpowering him with little struggle. "Please
he's only a boy, let him go" he pleads. The woman lowers herself momentarily
then raises herself again, the muscular balls of destruction quivering
slightly as she snaps on the pressure. Harry was disturbed to find his groin
quivering in appreciation at the horrific scene. Skunk's face is turning an
unhealthy colour. "Oh god, you're killing him. Carter...Harry Carter. Please
let him go". Gill opens her calves and the boy's head falls to floor.

"It's your turn now, unless Harry tells us why he is here" the woman says. For
a second Harry is confused until he notices that Weasel has come around with
an expression of horror from watching how she dispatched Skunk. Gill had only
taken a single step, when he was up on his feet and running out the door.
Harry had never seen anyone move so fast with fright.

********

Weasel heard footsteps in the corridor behind him as he ran. Oh my god,
visions of Skunk's unconscious face between the scary woman's legs pursued
him. He didn't want to end up like that! the fact that it was a small mature
woman made it even worse.

Missing the doors for the main staircase, he fled down a narrow set of stairs
a bit further along. At the next floor, his adrenaline fuelled flight started
to slow as he ran down the corridor.

He now felt embarrassed that he had run instead of putting up a fight. She was
only a woman, a small old one at that, he could have taken her. He could have
avoided her legs and punched her to a pulp. Feelings of impotent anger welled
up inside him. He had a good mind to go back and beat the crap out of that
bitch. Yes, he damn well will. Running through the doors of the main
stairwell, his flight was abruptly halted as he collided with a cleaning
trolley. Bottles, brushes and bags of rubbish spilled out across the landing
as Weasel tripped and fell.

********

"Urgkk" Harry croaked as hard muscle grew into his throat, compressing his
larynx, chocking off his air. Gill was sitting by his shoulder with one shin
under the back of his neck and the other calve on top of his throat. Locking
her ankles tight, she had bent her legs at the knees and slid forward forcing
Harry's head away from her at an angle. "Urgkk!" it felt like an oversized
pair of blunt scissors was trying to cut off his head. With the back of her
calve against his throat; he could feel the irresistible power of both calve
heads easily swell into his neck. Lack of air was causing him to feel faint
and black spots danced before his eyes.

A man's voice, seeming distant "He got away. I'll let security know and get
them to pick up these two". The scissoring bitch said "No, not these two. Not
until Harry here gives me some answers". "He can't do that if you choke him
out". Harry gulps in large mouthfuls of air as the pressure is released from
his throat. "I do this my way, Jim. He needs to understand clearly what I will
do to him if he doesn't tell the truth". Harry feels his head being lowered to
the floor, but before it makes contact he sees the shin before his face turn.
At the bottom of his vision a very solid looking ball of muscle rose as it
rotated in place against his throat. "No-arkk".

Now on her side, Gill relocked her calves and tensed. Harry felt an almighty
point of pressure crush hard on his throat and dig into the back of his neck.
His soft throat offered no resistance to the sharp hard calve head pushing
against his trachea. It felt like a powerful hydraulic ram was forcing a small
rock into his throat. Right in front of his face, Harry could see the massive
solid orb of muscle flex. It crushed irresistibly into his throat. 'Kkkk
kkkk", the rocky protuberances closed his airways. Their bulging bulk pressed
into his jaw forcing it hard against his upper jaw. It felt like his teeth
would break under the pressure and his jaw will explode.

Harry instinctively brought his hand to the limb across his neck. In his
oxygen deprived state he was shocked to encounter very hard, very sharp flesh
and for a moment wondered why his hand seems so far away. Frantically he tried
to prise the leg away but was unable to make an impression, the calve felt
like a jutting ball of steel covered with a thin layer of flesh and fishnets.
Harry could feel its counterpart crushing his larynx, closing his airways.
Uncontrollably his body went into spasms, thrashing about through the body's
lack of oxygen. However his neck remained solidly trapped.

"Gill, stop it, you're killing him" a man's voice. "Keep your nose out of it
Priest or you're next" the owner of the awesome calves. His detached mind
thinks that's a strange thing to call the man, he didn't look like a member of
the clergy. Harry is horrified by the disturbing rattling coming from his
mouth; sounding like his voice box has collapsed. His detached mind comments
on how he didn't want to die like this, just as everything fades to black.

********

"Oi! Watcha playing at?" a woman with a rough Cockney accent shouted. Weasel
looked around and saw a cleaner walking towards him. "Piss off!" Weasel said
untangling himself from the contents of the trolley. The cleaner reminded him
in some ways of that Salsa bitch, she was around 4'8" with a similar shoulder
length black bob complete with full fringe. The similarity ended there but it
was enough to make Weasel angry. "Stupid place to put a trolley" he snarled as
he got to his feet. "Don'tcha know anything about health and safety" he added.
"Stupid boy for running into it" she replied. "Ugly cow" Weasel spat. The
cleaner had a small face dominated by a large beakish nose. Her mouth was
small as were her soft brown eyes that were framed by thick eyelashes. Weasel
thought the eyebrows were too thick, she had dark bags beneath her eyes and
her dimpled chin was too shallow. She also had a bit of a double chin. Her
complexion was tanned, rather like a gypsy. Short and dumpy toad he thought.
She was quite heavily built, probably fat he thought.

Her arms were visible under a short-sleeved blue T-shirt, very thick and soft
looking. A dark blue sleeveless pinafore was worn on top with a light blue
panel on the right. Below this she wore black trousers with flat black
trainers."You better apologise quick mate then put that trolley right" she
told him coming face to face. "Git lost. Maria" he spat, reading her name from
her pass. "Oh Ms.Butcher, I didn't see you there" the cleaner said chirpily.
Turning around, Weasel frowned. "There's no-one Urkk Orrrr". A thick arm
wrapped itself around his neck and a hard punch landed in his kidneys. The
small woman then bulldogged him to the floor from behind.

Finding himself easily forced on his knees, Weasel is shocked by the power
flowing through the woman's thick arm crushing his neck and jaw in a brutally
strong headlock. He struggled in vain to break free, horrified to find that he
couldn't. Although the cleaner's arms are thick and soft, Weasel can feel that
they are very solid beneath the skin. "Orrgh" thick strong arms held his head
in an inescapable clamp. His fingers dug into the softness of her skin but
made no impression on the rock hard muscle beneath. Everywhere he felt was
soft skin that gave slightly then solid hard muscle. Large thick planes of
solid muscle that threatened to rip his head off. He couldn't believe his luck
being beaten up by two small women in one night. "Aorrrgkkkk" Weasel struggled
in vain as the demon cleaner stood astride him working the hold twisting his
head from side to side. Finally she jerked his face to look at the overturned
trolley. "Put that right before I twist off your head" Maria ordered. "Arghh"
a fist hammered his kidneys. "Come on, I haven't got all night". With his head
clamped tightly, Weasel reluctantly reached forward and managed to right the
trolley.

"Orrg" another hard kidney punch. "Now pick up all that stuff and put them
back on the trolley". The mighty armed cleaner bulldogged him around the floor
with such brutal twists of his head that he cried out in pain fearing she
would break his neck. At the same time, he was also shocked to find the small
woman physically moving him around the floor with ease.

********

Harry awoke, momentarily confused as to where he was. Argh his ankles, He
remembered. The cold bitch with the ball-like calves was standing with her
back to him, a pair of man's hands rubbing up and down those muscular orbs. At
first he couldn't make out what is going on. The black haired man is on his
knees in front of her with his hands reaching around the back to fondle her
calves. With sickening realisation, he knows that the pervert has his face up
inside the front of her leather skirt making the calve monster moan in
pleasure.

Finishing her exertions, Gill turns to Harry. "Well Harry Carter. Do you want
to worship my calves as well?" she says with a smile that sends shivers down
his neck. Harry tries to speak but ends up coughing. "Tell me why you are
really here" she says stepping towards him. "Mend safe" he replies hoarsely,
his throat raw after its abuse by her calves. "You haven't learnt your lesson
yet, have you Harry?" she said. Harry tried to move away as the calve monster
knelt by his head but he couldn't get far with his sprained ankles. He felt
her hands slide under his armpits then a failed attempt to lift him. "Jim.
Give me a hand. He's too heavy for me". The middle-aged man came over and
together they raised his upper torso. In alarm, Harry felt a leg slide under
his body. "Ok, let him go" she said. He felt himself lowered. A calve appeared
on top of his chest positioning itself so that one ball of flaring muscle was
against his sternum. "You'll probably better go, Jim. I don't think you'll
want to watch this" she said. "What. What are going to do?" Harry whispered in
alarm. "Teach you a very painful lesson" Gill replied. He noticed that the
other man hadn't left.

Harry felt a tightening pressure on his chest as the petite woman managed to
lock her ankles together on the other side of his body. It like a tight
constricting belt around the middle of his chest. "Please I'll tell you
everything please stop" he begged hoarsely as the pressure slowly built up.
"Torture first, questions after" her voice replied coldly. "Remember that
water melon Harry?" the leather skirted minx asked. "Unnggh" the tightness
around his chest increased dramatically. Harry could feel the sharp ball of
steel pushing his sternum into his chest as he saw the counterpart calve head
bulging skywards in front of his face. "Pleeeease" he gasped as the inward
pressure on his lungs made it difficult to breathe. Harry placed his hands on
the mighty calves compressing his chest and tried to push them away with all
his might but to no avail. The fearsome calves would not budge; their
terrifying grip was rock fast. In desperation, he moved his hands to her
ankles to try to prise them apart but also to no avail. He noticed the shiny
muscle tone of her legs but was too distracted to appreciate it. No please I
give in, he wanted to plead but the ferocious compression on his ribcage made
it impossible to speak. Temporarily the pressure eased off then was snapped on
again with terrifying strength. To Harry's horror, it looked like her inner
calve head was buried deep in the middle of his ribcage painfully bending the
ribs in towards the centre. He was very dizzy not being able to breathe with
his lungs constrained. His vision blurred and darkened. SNAP! Harry heard and
felt a gruesome crack as his sternum broke taking several ribs with it. The
shock and pain was too much.

********

"Now those last bits there. Come on faster" Maria urged. Weasel had enough, he
wasn't having a good day and being physically humiliated by another short
woman was too much to bear. Twisting and turning his body with his head locked
tight by her sturdy arm, he managed to create an opening between their bodies.
His elbow swung back hard and fast into the cleaner's soft gut. "Orpph". The
headlock didn't loosen, so Weasel slammed his elbow again and again into her
mid-riff. Her grunts of pain were music to his ears and he was able to break
free as her grip weakened.

Spinning around, Weasel was pleased with the pained expression on the woman's
face and her slumped pose as she caressed her stomach. "You look even more
ugly now, you ugly little gnome" he snarled. All the anger at the evening'
humiliation blazed red in his brain and before he knew it his fists were
pounding the woman's face over and over. She tried to raise her hands to
protect her face and Weasel drove a series of hard punches into her gut.
Weasel couldn't stop laughing as his fists buried themselves again and again
in her soft belly. "That will teach you to mess with me you ugly old bitch" he
laughed. Hunched over with her small mouth wide open like an old trout, Weasel
couldn't resist the easy target now on offer. He pounded her face blackening
her eye and breaking her nose. "Sorry you messed with me you ugly old trout?".
Leaving his battered victim, Weasel walked over to the trolley to see what
else he could use on her.

********

Harry comes around to the sound of sex. The petite rib crusher with the elvin
face and black hair is standing a short way ahead with her back to him. "Oh
Jim. You bad man" she moaned passionately. She seemed to be doing a series of
short quick calve raises with something he couldn't quite make out trapped
between those balls of steel. Feeling those dangerous calves is a pair of
hands reaching from in front of her. The black haired pervert is kneeling
before her once more with his face up her skirt servicing her again. He moans
with pleasure as she constantly flexes her steely calve heads. Suddenly he
lets out a long loud moan and a squirt of white liquid shoots from between her
calves followed by a series of weaker spurts. Oh my god, the sick bastard.
She's given him a calve-job. Harry looks away in disgust, her moans of
pleasure reaching a crescendo as the pervert licks her to a long noisy orgasm.

Breathing heavily, Gill turns and smiles at Harry. Small cold brown eyes peer
at him from atop a slim pointed nose. "With us again Harry?" she says picking
up a thick box file from her desk. "Then it's time for some more calve
exercises" she tells him as she walks towards him. "Urgh" Harry tries to move
back but the pain in his chest and his sprained ankles is too much. "Please no
more, I'll tell you everything you want to know. Just leave me alone" he
whispers. Smiling down at him, she turns with her mighty calves over his face.
"Please no" he cries in terror of those fearsome but feminine tools of
destruction.

"I came to break into the safe. Please no" but it was too late. The woman
lifts his head and places the box file underneath. Before he can move, her
calves close in. "Arggh please no". Sharp rocks are drilling into his temples
as the calves grip and lift his head; at least that is what is felt with.
"Please please" he cries with the intense pain. "Did you know that the temples
are the thinnest part of the cranium?" the woman's cold voice told him.
"PLEASE!" he shrieks. Harry wets himself with fear.

"What were you looking for?" says the man's voice. "Object, PLEASE, ancient
Indian symbol disc PLEASE". The sharp rounded calve heads of steel are
exerting a horrendous pressure concentrated on his temples. "I bet you would
like to pass out and escape the pain?" the cold-hearted woman said. "Yes, yes
please" he cried. "Too bad. Who sent you?" the woman said without mercy.
"PLEASE Bank. BANK" he wailed the sharp calves pushing in so hard, he was in
tears. "Which bank?" she asked. "Dark Bank" he wails. "Never heard of them"
says the dark haired man. "True, PLEASE, very elite very secret PLEASE" he
cries, the pain is intense; it feels like his skull is going to break. "Who is
your contact?" she asks. "SIR HUMPHREY" he wails. "Jones?" the man says. "YES
YES PLEASE" he cries. Harry sensed his head lowering and knew what that meant;
he'd seen and felt it enough times that evening. "PLEASE DEAR GOD NO" he cries
but it was too late. His head was rising again, the fearsome calves drilling
event harder into his temples within renewed strength. He screamed loudly as
he felt his skull crack.

********

CLANG! The lights went out as something metallic slammed over Weasel's head. A
waste paper bin, he guessed. As he raised his hands to try and pull it off, he
felt himself spun around. The motion trapped in the darkness of the bin
disorientated his sense of balance. "Orpph" a sledgehammer exploded in his
gut, his sharp outburst of air reverberating metallically in the confined
space. He slumped around his middle then felt another sledgehammer slam into
his deflated middle. "Mmnnnn". Weasel sank to his knees, clutching his ruined
gut unable to breathe.

He heard the cleaner's voice. "Here let me help you with that. You bastard".
Something gripped the metal bin, her arm he guessed. He could hear the thin
metal crunching and bending around his head, as her bulky arm compressed it
out of shape. In a moment of blinding pain, the bin was yanked off his head
roughly, burning his nose, lips and ears. "Arghh". He sees the cleaner throws
the badly misshapen bin to the ground. "You've ruined that with your big head,
you bastard" she said angrily. Suddenly a big rough fist is speeding towards
his face. The fist explodes, busting his nose in a spray of blood and bruising
his upper lip against his teeth.

As he clutches his bloodied face, he sees her hard brown eyes penetrate him
like radar. The small mouth set in a grimace of contempt. "I was brought up in
East End, mate" she snarled, "I know how to treat a punk like you". Weasel
throws a punch at her face, but she raises an arm and blocks it. The
vibrations travel up his arm, it's like banging your arm against a metal pole.
Stepping swiftly towards him, Weasel feels her grab him by the shoulders then
sees her leg kick between his legs. "Orrrr" he cries, as his googlies feel
like they've been hit with a hammer. "You started it mate, I'll finish it" she
tells him with a sneer.

WHUMP! There's no let up as a strong fist buries itself deep in his middle.
"Phhhhh" Weasel is shocked at the strength of the woman's punches. He is so
badly winded that he is completely incapacitated and can only watch with
horror as a large hard fist hurtles towards his face. BAM! In breathless
agony, Weasel feels the brutal contact of her fist with his left eye. The
power of her punch snaps his head back sharply bringing bright flashes of
lights to his eyes and shocking his balance. Feeling the swelling around his
eye, he would have fallen but he feels the cleaning woman grab the front of
his hoodie. Weasel feels himself pulled forward to meet an onrushing fist like
a freight train on a collision course with his face. WHAM! a mighty impact
hammers his mouth, splits his lip, loosens his front teeth and sends him to
his knees.

"I've just cleaned that floor! If you get blood all over it, I'll use your
balls as a mop" Maria says standing before him with her hands on her hips.
"Now get up and fight like a real man, you big pussy" she taunts. "Bitch" he
spits then launches himself at her. Fending off his blows, they tangle. The
petite cleaning woman manages to trap his right arm by wrapping a thick arm
around it and drives a haymaker deep into his unprotected stomach.
"Booooooffff". As his breath leaves him explosively, he has no time to bend as
another mighty punch slams into his other eye shutting it. This is followed by
a punch to his cheek so hard he was scared it would break. Punch after punch
rains on his face. The woman's blows are relentless, powerful and fast. A
punch to his mouth loosens his teeth, another shuts his other eye, one cuts
his brow, the bones in his bust nose are smashed some more and his jaw is
hammered so hard it hurts to move his mouth. Weasel totally unable to defend
himself as his body jerked and spasmed under each awesome blow.

Before he knew it, he was on the floor, on his hands and knees, blood pouring
from his mouth and nose. "I warned you about that, you prick" he heard her
tell him. "Now get up" she ordered. Weasel didn't want to do anything, he was
finished, his face and gut ached all over and he just wanted to go home.
Ashamed to say it, but he sobbed like a child.

In horror, he feels her thick arms reach down and drag him effortlessly to his
feet by the front of his hoodie. Oh god she is too strong for me. As she held
him up with her strong arms, Weasel was ashamed to feel his dick harden in
response to the power of this small woman as she exerted her superiority over
him. An almighty punch to his gut hammers his diaphragm so hard that he nearly
spews his dinner and shuts it down. Gasping uselessly for air, a terrifying
punch slams into the side his jaw, jerking it so hard to one side that it
breaks as the whiplash addles his brain. This is closely followed by a brutal
uppercut that snaps his teeth together so hard, they crunch, several breaking.
Weasel's body crashes limply to the floor.

Calmly Maria drizzled some water over the blood on the floor. Bending down,
she quietly unbuckles the boy's trousers and pulls them down. She picks up his
legs then straightens with one tucked under each mighty arm. Pressing his
balls against the floor with one foot, she manhandles the unconscious boy's
body with ease mopping up the mess.

********

With Gill watching, I opened the unlocked safe. Inside we were surprised to
find it full of small antique pieces and expensive looking jewellery. There
was no sign of the encoding device though. "Principal Newman, what have you
been up to?" Gill murmurs.

********

Sir Anthony Jones carefully opens the large packaged box that has just been
delivered to his stately home, with anticipation. Peering inside, his face
turns red. "Is this some kind of joke?" he yells. From inside the box he
removes a badly misshapen sporting trophy cup. The cup was badly dented in the
middle from opposite sides as though some kind of vice had crushed it,
although he couldn't work out why anybody would want to do that and send it to
him. Just as he was about to discard the box, he notices a piece of white card
at the bottom. Picking it up, he sees that it is blank apart from a red wax
imprint of the goddess Anahita. His face goes white.