Electra - A Short Story
By Muscle Fan
covert.1@hotmail.com


I'll call myself Electra, although that is not my real name. I'm posting this
on the web to share a bit of my life, a bit of myself, and a bit of what turns
me on. I'm what some would call 'hot', at least for those who are into women
with muscles, and I certainly have an abundance of those.

My days are consumed with working out and pleasing the men and women who are
willing to pay for a session with me. When I work out, I lift heavy and train
hard. I spend hours in my gym, working each body part, pushing them to their
max. I rotate my workouts so that I give my individual body parts a rest
before hitting it again several days later. 'This has paid off', I think as I
look in the mirror at my physique, 'a testament to my hard work.'

I stand six-foot four-inches in my bare feet, a height that attracts both
attention and intimidation. My blonde hair is short and my eyes are emerald
green. I have broad shoulders that taper to a narrow waist and slender hips.
My thighs are large, their well-defined muscles being crisscrossed with veins.
My calves are as large as my biceps, which measures nearly twenty inches when
flexed. My breasts are natural and firm, with small areola capped by hard,
round, nipples. I place a hand under each and marvel at the weight and density
of them. 'What is it about breasts that men find so attractive,' I ask myself.

After a workout I routinely spend twenty to thirty minutes in front of a
mirror analyzing each body part, flexing and massaging my muscles and tracing
my veins with a well-manicured fingertip. This examination sometimes leads to
masturbating, but perhaps I'll get to that later. You see, I'm not just
well-defined, but I'm strong, very strong.

All work and no play makes Electra a dull girl, so when I am not working out
in my gym or entertaining clients, I can be found lying around the pool,
working on my all over tan. I think it's important to have a healthy tan, one
that I don't want marred by tan lines. The pool is not just for lying beside,
however; I swim a mile or more every day to work on stamina and endurance.
Stamina and endurance are essential when you do what I do.

One of my clients, a woman who I will call Anne, is a corporate executive for
a Fortune 500 company in downtown Los Angeles. She's single, having been twice
divorced and is one of my 'regulars'. Her salary is $200,000 before benefits.
Anne stands five-foot seven-inches tall, has long auburn hair and takes
exceptional care of herself; retaining a personal trainer, yoga and jogging.
Her house is off of Mulholland Drive, high above the city. I pull up to her
front gate promptly at eight o'clock, our usual appointment time.

"I'm here," I say into the speaker box after pressing the call button. Without
a response, the gate swings open and I drive to the front door, the gate
closing in my wake.

By the time I get out of the car and carry my bag up the flagstone steps, Anne
stands at the open door, dressed only in bra and panties, a matching set that
probably cost in excess of five-hundred dollars.

"Good evening, mistress," she says, glancing down as I enter. I do not
acknowledge her but rather drop my bag at my feet. Anne steps behind me and
grasping the neckline of the trench coat I'm wearing, takes it from my
shoulders. Tonight, I'm wearing a Spandex brief, which rides high on my hips
with four-inch stiletto ankle boots and nothing else. I turn quickly taking
Anne's jaw in my hand and tilt her face to mine and kiss her luscious lips,
exploring her mouth with my tongue. I send my long tongue deep into her throat
and she nearly gags. I break the kiss but still holding her chin, laugh.

"What's the problem, baby, not happy to see Mistress Electra?" I ask. "No,"
she replies in a soft voice, "I'm very happy to see you, mistress." I release
her chin. I grunt and say, "Get my bag," and head for the stairway to the
second floor. She picks up my bag and although it's heavy for Anne, she
follows me upstairs. I know she's watching my butt and I tighten my gluteus
maximus and accentuate the sway of my hips as I head up.

In her bedroom, I stop and study the room. Although I have been here many
times, I can't help but wonder once again why Anne chose to decorate in gold
and red. I turn to her and take my bag, its weight being light as a feather to
me, and sit it on a low dresser, knocking a porcelain figurine to the floor.

We both look at the fallen figurine and Anne begins to stoop to pick it up.
"Leave it," I say and she stares at me momentarily but knows better than to
retrieve the small statue. I put my foot on the delicate figure and crush is
beneath my boot. I chuckle as I twist the sole of my boot. I glance at Anne
and it looks as if she will cry.

I step in front of her and say softly, "Hit me, baby, you know you want to, I
broke your figurine." She looks from the floor to my eyes. "Do it, bitch, it
will make you feel better," I say, and then a little more forcefully, "Hit
me!" She doubles her fist and hits me just below my navel. "Again," I said.
She hits me harder this time, but I barely feel it. "Again," I say once more
and she hits me with a right and then a left, neither blow enough to rock me,
take my breath away or even leave a bruise. I chuckle and say softly, "You're
such a little girl."

I embrace her and unsnap her bra and slide the straps from her shoulders. I
toss the bra onto a chaise not far away. Because of our height difference, my
breasts are face level with Anne. "Suck me," I command and she eagerly takes
my nipple in her mouth. I allow her to suck greedily while I fondle her
breasts, lightly squeezing them and rolling her nipples between my thumb and
forefinger. Her breasts are larger than mine, but they don't sag.

Pulling away, I said, "Get on the bed." She walked on her hands and knees onto
her king size bed. I find my strap-on dildo in my bag on the dresser and
fastened the nylon straps securing it to my pelvis. Before turning to Anne, I
study myself in the mirror above the dresser turning first one way and then
the other, admiring my twelve-inch 'cock'. My 'shaft' is realistic looking,
approximately twelve-inches in length and perhaps two-inches in diameter. I
stroked myself slowly admiring the phallus in the mirror.

I turned to Anne, who is propped up on her elbows watching me. As I approach
the bed, she raised her hips and was about to slide her panties down. "Leave
them," I said as I kneel on the bed. I stopped, standing on my knees between
Anne's legs. It was time to instill a little fear in Anne.

"Make love to my cock," I told her, "Kiss me." She bent forward and kissed the
head of my dildo and then ran her tongue around its head, finally she took it
in her mouth. There was something exciting about watching Anne perform
cunnilingus on my 'cock'.

I pushed her back onto the bed and with my hand guided the head of the dildo
to her labia encased in satin. With her panties still on, I thrust forward,
tearing a hole through the sheer material. Anne's breath catches as the head
penetrates her vagina. "All right, my little bitch," I said, "You're going to
take all twelve-inches of my 'she cock' and when I'm done, you're going to
lick your cum from my shaft, do you understand?" She didn't say anything but
merely nodded.

For the next half hour, I thrust slowly driving my dildo deeper and deeper
until it was totally in, and then I began to rhythmically thrust until she
climaxes.

Withdrawing the shaft from her, I unsnapped my strap-on and pressed the head
to her lips. "Clean this," I said, indicating that she should take the
strap-on from me. I stepped off the end of the bed and stretched. I flexed my
muscles and then brought my arms across my front, causing my trapezius muscles
to explode. She stops, her tongue still on the dildo's shaft, watching me. I
know she's turned on watching me fleck my muscles. "Lick it!" I say sternly,
"Use that miserable tongue of yours."

Lifting my right breast slightly, I stick out my tongue and run the tip around
my nipple. I repeat this with my left breast and then kneeling on the bed once
more, I take my dildo from her and say, "Time for you to pleasure your
mistress." I shuffle forward until my clit is over her face and then lower
myself. She immediately began lapping at my clit and labia, teasing with her
tongue and lips. My clit is about two-inches long and perhaps as thick as a
small penis. When it's sucked or stroked as Anne was doing, it becomes hard. I
call it my 'female erection.'

"Hmm," I hummed giving in to my own ecstasy, "that's it, baby, Mistress
Electra loves to have her clit sucked." It's fair to say Anne is a good lover
and knows how to please me. She's had plenty of practice as we fulfill each
other's need for sex and sexual release. My orgasm is intense. I hadn't
masturbated for hours so I was horny. Anne captures my ejaculate in her mouth,
lapping every drop. A shudder streaks through my body. "Hmm," I say once more,
"Thank you, baby, Mistress Electra needed to climax."

I get off the bed and put the strap-on in my bag and bring out a small vial of
scented oil. Handing the bottle to Anne, I say, "Here, massage this into my
muscles." She scoots to the end of the bed and I put a booted foot between her
legs. She rubs and massages the oil into my calves and quads. I replace one
leg with the other and she repeats her efforts. When she is done with that leg
I stand in front of her and say, "Remove my shorts." She slowly peels the
Spandex briefs down my legs and I step out of them.

I don't have to tell her to continue. Anne knows the routine and what she is
to do. She fills her palm with oil and rubs her hands together before
massaging my pubis and abdomen. She works her way up my torso, lingering as
she rubs my abdominals. I turn and she rubs my butt and lower back. As she
slid her hand between my butt cheeks, I tense them holding her hand in place.
She tugs, but is unable to pull her hand free. "I wonder if I could snap a
finger or two with my butt, Anne," I ask, and chuckle before releasing her
hand.

She stands and continues to oil my back and I turn and she finishes with my
front, massaging my breasts. "Hmm," I hum, "that feels good." I slide my
fingers into the waistband of her panties and pull, tearing them from her
hips. Like myself, Anne waxes her pubis, and I finger her, inserting my index
finger between her labia. She closes her eyes and enjoys the euphoria. She
pants as I stroke her, bringing her to a climax moments later. Anne sits on
the end of the bed catching her breath.

I glance at the bedside clock and see that our time is almost up. I pull my
Spandex briefs on, bend and kiss Anne on the lips once more driving my tongue
deep into her throat. She gags softly and I withdraw my tongue, breaking our
kiss.

"Bring my bag and the money," I say heading for the door and the stairs down.
She follows once again struggling with the bag. In the foyer, she sits the bag
on the floor and retrieves my trench coat. She holds it while I slip it on my
shoulders. Anne picks up an envelope from a credenza and hands it to me. My
fee for my services; there's no need to count it; I know it's all there. I
slip the envelope into my pocket and pick up my bag.

Anne opens the door. "Thank you, mistress," she says. I smile at her, but say
nothing as I walk down the steps to my car. She stands at the door, naked, as
I take the circular drive to the front gate.

'I wonder what her fellow corporate executives would think if they could see
Anne and I having sex.' I muse, 'They'd probably drum her out of the board
room.'

A male client of mine enjoys humiliation. Hal is a well-respected superior
court judge. He's married, so we meet at a hotel for our 'session'. When I'm
dominating a client, I have to be careful not to injure them, or at least
injure them severely. I've come close to breaking a finger on more than one
occasion or leaving tell-tale bruises, injuries that would be hard to explain
to wives as well as coworkers.

I met Hal at 7 o'clock. He answered the door to his suite dressed in the hotel
bathrobe. "Hello, Hal, were you expecting me?" Of course he was and he was
paying handsomely for my services. "Ye-yes," he said, "Come in mistress." I
strode into the suite wearing the same trench coat I wore for Anne, belted at
the waist. Tonight, under my coat I wore black nylon shorts and a black nylon
sports bra with cross trainers instead of my preferred stilettos.

I tossed my bag on a chaise lounge and unbuckled the trench coat. Facing Hal,
I opened my coat revealing my muscles. "Hal," I said, "You're a wimp. I'm
going to beat you up just for fun, would you like that?" He nodded slowly. I
smiled and took a step towards him. He involuntarily stepped back. I smiled
and took another step in his direction. The back of his legs hit a couch and
he sat down.

Standing in front of him I flexed my biceps and pumped my trapezius. "You're
no match for me, baby," I said, "Look at my muscles, I could kill you with one
arm; can you imagine having your neck in the crook of my arm." His eyes were
riveted on my biceps. I ran a hand over the bulging muscle and then licked it
with my tongue.

"And look at these quads," I said, tensing the muscles and then relaxing them,
shaking them, and tensing them once more. Hal reached out to touch them and I
swatted his hand away. "Don't touch me you pathetic looser," I said.

I stretched, lifting my arms high over my head. "Hmm," I cooed, "I feel so
horny, I need to masturbate. If you're a good little boy, I'll let you watch.
Will you be good?" He nodded quickly. I smiled and peeled my sports bra over
my head, tossing it on the chaise. I slowly ran a hand across my breasts,
toying with my nipples, pinching them. Once they were hard, I ran a hand down
my abs and slipped my fingers under the waistband of my shorts, peeling them
from my quads. I stepped out of the shorts and tossed them on the chaise as
well.

Hal licked his lips and I said, "Do you like what you see, bitch? Do you want
to touch me?" He nodded and I laughed. "You can't touch me, Hal, you're not
man enough to touch me," I said, "Open your robe, and let me see that puny
cock of yours." He hesitated but then opened the front of his robe. Hal is not
well-endowed. His penis is perhaps five-inches when fully erect, as it was
now. I laughed and his cheeks reddened. "What a little man," I said, "that
will never do. I think my clit is bigger than your cock." I put my index
finger under my clit and lifted it. My clit was firm and several inches in
length. Hal's eyes were riveted to my clit. "I need a bigger cock to satisfy
my needs."

I turned to my bag and withdrew my vibrator. The vibrator is hot pink,
thirteen inches in length and three-inches in diameter with three speeds. "Now
this is a cock," I said, pressing the on/off button at the base of the dildo.
The vibrator purred to life.

Hal sat on the couch, his hand automatically reaching for his penis. "Uh-huh,
sissy boy, don't even think of playing with yourself until I tell you it's
OK," I said as I brought the head of the dildo in contact with my labia.
Slowly I worked the shaft into me, relishing the pulsations. When the dildo
was perhaps four or five inches into my pussy, I withdrew it and held it out
to Hal. "Taste me, bitch, taste your mistress' juices," I said. He licked the
tip of the vibrator. I chuckled and slowly inserted the shaft once more; four,
five and then six inches.

"Hmm," I said, the vibration of the machine coming through my voice, "Watch,
baby, watch what Mistress Electra can do," and taking my hand from the base of
the dildo, I inched the shaft into my pussy seven, eight and then nine inches.

"I'm so wet, baby," I said, "I can feel my juices running down my toy. Get on
the floor." He quickly got down on the floor, lying on his back. I knelt
straddling his head, facing him. Now the base of the vibrator was inches from
his face. I let my fingers roam over my body as I drew the shaft deeper and
deeper inside me. I could feel the wetness as it dropped first on his face and
then into his mouth.

The entire thirteen inches were inside of me, humming softly, bringing me to
an epic orgasm. I patted and stroked my clit bringing a flood of ejaculate.
Hal closed his eyes tightly but kept his mouth open as I exploded. I was
panting, "Hmm," I said, beginning to expel the dildo from my pussy, "Hmm," I
repeated, "That felt wonderful."

I looked at Hal and the puddle of semen at the base of his flaccid penis.
"You've been a bad boy, Hal," I said, grabbing the base of the vibrator and
withdrawing it totally, "lick this clean." I turned off the vibrator and put
it between Hal's lips. He took it from me licking the pink shaft. I stood up
and stretched, looking down at Hal.

Time was nearly up, our session drawing to a close. I had no malice toward
Hal, but wanted him to have something to remember me by. I bent down and
snatched my vibrator from his grasp. He looked up at me as I put the pink
dildo back into my bag.

"Get up, pansy ass," I said sternly. He glanced at me with fear in his eyes. I
had seen the look a hundred times before and it was intoxicating. The hotel's
robe hung open and I quickly hit him in the midsection, doubling him over. I
hadn't hit him hard, but enough to make him lose his breath. "Did you like
that, bitch?" I asked. He nodded trying to catch his breath. I grabbed my
nylon shorts from the chaise and, wadding them up, stuffed them in Hal's mouth
as a gag. I then stepped behind him, drawing his arms in back of him. As I
did, I lifted him off the ground. He struggled to free himself, but it was
futile.

Whispering in his ear, I said, "I'm going to dislocate your shoulder. It will
hurt like hell, but it you can have it reset at a hospital." With a quick
jerk, I popped his shoulder out of the socket. His scream was muffled by my
shorts stuffed in his mouth. Tears ran down his cheeks as I released him. He
slumped to the floor cradling his injured arm with his good arm.

I pulled my shorts from his mouth and he moaned looking up at me from the
floor. I smiled at him while I stepped into my shorts and pulled my sports bra
over my head.

"Where's the money, Hal?" I asked. "On the dresser in the bedroom," he said,
quietly. I walked into the bedroom. Hal and I always met in a five star hotel,
and this was no exception. He paid for the room just as he paid for my
services, only I cost more. I took the envelope on the dresser and felt the
money inside. Mine was a cash only business.

Back in the living room, I put my coat on slipping the money in an inside
pocket, tying the belt around my waist. Taking my bag from the chaise, I
headed for the door. "Thank you mistress," Hal said watching me go. "You
better have that shoulder attended to, baby," I said, "See you next time." He
nodded and was leveraging himself into a sitting position as the door closed
behind me.

I enjoy sex, domination and working out. Not necessarily in that order, but
the working out is a necessity of my lifestyle, the domination because I
always want to be in control and the sex, simply because it pleases me.

When I'm not with a man or a woman that I want to have sex with, I masturbate.
I can pleasure myself for an hour or more, bringing myself to the brink of an
orgasm, then pulling back. Multiple orgasms are not uncommon. I use various
techniques; dildos, vibrators, ben wa balls, manual stimulation, and other
items. Am I oversexed? 'Probably,' I think, and laugh, 'but with this body and
my over active psyche, who's to say what oversexed is?' but I usually
masturbate or have sex two or three times a day.

You may be wondering about my clientele. They are all professional from
various walks of life. I keep the number manageable since I'm a staff of one.
As I may have mentioned, it's a cash only business and I've only had one
client 'stiff' me.

I keep a cell phone dedicated for business purposes and I don't allow my
clients to come to my house. My business is strictly word of mouth. While many
of my current clients know each other, I never speak about one client to
another.

'What about the client who 'stiffed' you, you ask? Well, he was new. I'll call
him Martin and he got my number from a regular. I spoke to Martin on the
phone, asked who referred him, what service he was interested in and gave him
a price. In Martin's case it was purely muscle worship and we agreed to meet
at his house. He was single, no girlfriend, I didn't have to worry about a
spouse or 'significant other', not that I ever did.

I showed up at his house at the prearranged time and the session went well.
Martin was well behaved. I posed for him and he applied oil and felt my
muscles. Martin was good looking and well endowed, however, he was not paying
for sex even though I thought I would throw that in as a treat to myself after
I got his payment.

"Martin," I said, "I should have gotten the finances out of the way first, do
you have my money?" There was a pause and he looked at the floor and said
quietly, "No." I stood starring at the man. At first I wasn't sure I had heard
him correctly. "What?" I asked. "Ah, I'm sorry I don't have the money, I can
get it tomorrow," he said, his voice wavering.

The first slap caught him off guard and he quickly put a hand to his cheek. "I
told you to have the money, Martin," I hissed, "Now you're going to have to
suffer the consequences." That's when the fear crept into his eyes. "Look,
Electra, I can have the money tomorrow afternoon," he said quickly. "Tomorrow
afternoon is not now, asshole," I said, "and I told you to call me Mistress
Electra." I drove my fist into his stomach and he fell to the floor in a fetal
position, trying to get air in his lungs.

I grabbed his flaccid penis between my big toe and the next one and squeezed.
"Ow," he said, "please don't." I chuckled and said, "I could crush your cock
with my toes, bitch," and I gave it one more squeeze before releasing him.
While he was on the floor, I straddled his face and spread my labia so that
his nose was in my pussy, his head held between my thighs so that he couldn't
turn.

Grinding my pussy into his nose and face I reached forward and took his penis
in my palm. I could feel him stiffen. 'Funny,' I thought, 'even though he
could suffocate, he still manages to get a hard on.' I stroked him slowly and
rose up allowing him some air before continuing to grind myself into his face.
I repeated this twice more and he climaxed sending a small geyser of semen
arcing from his cock, some of it landing on my hand.

He was satisfied, but I wasn't, not by a long shot. I grabbed his scrotum and
fading erection in my palm and squeezed, destroying his testes. He screamed
and I sat on his face, muffling the sound, until it stopped. Martin had passed
out. I wiped my hand across his belly leaving a smear of his semen.

I stood up and looked around the house. I walked down the hallway and found
the master bedroom. I immediately went to the night stand and opened the
bottom drawer. A half dozen men's magazines were there, all showing muscular
women in various stages of undress. I looked at several of the pictures,
unimpressed since I was much larger than any of them. I tossed the magazines
back in the drawer and shut it.

The walk-in closet held rows of pants, shirts and T-shirts. There was several
pair of women's pants and tops. I took these from the rod and tossed them on
the bed. I then went to the dresser and opened drawers. In the bottom right I
found women's underwear and bathing suits. Pulling the drawer from the chest,
I dumped it on the bed as well, and then threw the empty drawer against the
wall, it landed on the floor with a thud. 'Apparently Martin does have a
girlfriend,' I thought picking up a pair of satin panties.

I held them up, the light blue material shiny in the bedroom light. 'His
girlfriend must be a size two,' I thought, 'pretty small.' I put them on
although they didn't fit; I managed to pull them up, my huge quads ripping the
elastic and material. I chuckled to myself, and pulled them off and tossed
them towards the drawer that they had come from.

A bathing suit bottom caught my eye, a bikini bottom with a blue leopard
print. Again I held the suit up examining it. 'I destroyed Martin's balls,' I
thought, 'I need to work him over a little more for lying to me.' I was
excited at the thought. I wadded the flimsy material into a small ball and
stuffed it in my pussy. I was getting wet.

I turned quickly when I heard a key in the front door. "Martin!" a female
voice exclaimed, "Oh, baby, what happened?" There was the sound of feet and
then the female said, "Yes, I need to get an ambulance ... " I ran down the
hallway and grabbed the phone from her hand and slammed the receiver down on
the cradle. The woman was stunned.

"Wha, Who, Who are you," the petite woman asked. 'Martin's girlfriend,' I
thought, 'Miss Size two.' "What did you do to Martin?" she asked. "I'm
Mistress Electra, who are you," I said. She didn't answer right away, but
finally said, "I'm Brooke, what did you do to Martin," she repeated.

Brooke was about five foot two-inches tall with what I call a 'little girl'
voice. 'She is the polar opposite of me', I thought, 'maybe that's why Martin
has a muscle fetish.'

"Brooke, Martin hired me tonight," I told her, "But he didn't have the money
to pay me so I had to hurt him." She shook her head as if trying to clear it.
"He hired you," she asked, "Are you a prostitute?" I laughed and said, "No,
I'm a dominatrix. Martin hired me for muscle worship." She looked at me from
head to foot as if seeing me for the first time. I was still naked. "Muscle
worship?" she asked. "Yes, Martin wanted to explore female muscle," I said.
"That's ridiculous," Brooke said, "Martin isn't into girls with muscles," and
she indicated me. I smiled. "He has a nightstand full of female muscle
magazines," I said, "He probably masturbates while looking at the pictures.
How long have you known Martin?" She thought about that a minute. "About four
weeks," she said, "But I'd know, Martin would have told me. We've gotten very
close." "Obviously you didn't know him and he didn't tell you," I said, "and
as far as being close, having sex doesn't mean you're close."

There was a long pause and I said, "Come with me," and walked to the bedroom.
Brooke followed, watching my butt and legs no doubt. I opened the drawer with
the magazines and tossed them onto the bed on top of her things. "Wh-what did
you do to my clothes?" she asked, ignoring the magazines. I glanced at them
and said, "I was surprised Martin had a girlfriend," I said, not really
explaining why I had tossed her clothes onto the bed.

Brooke picked up the top magazine and opened it. A beautiful woman, clad only
in a bikini bottom was posing, her muscles glistening. "I can't believe this,"
Brooke said, "Martin never told me, I didn't know." She was flipping through
pages when she stopped. I looked over her shoulder. A muscular woman was doing
squats at a squat rack while a man with an erection was on a bench below her.
Both were naked. Brooke looked from the magazine to me. "Is that what you
muscle women do?" she asked. I laughed out loud and then said, "I can't speak
for all muscle women, but I have sex as often as I can." "With Martin?" she
asked. "No, not with Martin, our arrangement wasn't for sex, just muscle
worship," I said. I didn't tell her that I was ready to have sex with her
boyfriend.

Brooke tossed the magazine on top of the others. I put my arm around her
shoulders and said, "Look, all men lie and fantasize about their fetishes.
Martin is no different." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I thought he was Mr.
Right," she sobbed, "he seemed the perfect man." I drew her to my chest and
said, "The perfect man is like a unicorn; a myth, believe me." She looked up
at me, and asked, "What are you going to do?" I chuckled and said, "I was
going to break a leg, an arm or a few fingers before you came, but the
question is, what are you going to do?"

She put a hand on my chest. It looked pale against my brown skin. "I'm going
to get my things and leave. Martin can go to hell!" I took her shoulders and
kissed her. When I broke the kiss, I said, "Good for you, Brooke."

"Mistress Electra," she said, softly in that little girl voice, "Will you
still break an arm or leg?" Brooke idly touched my nipple. "Do you want me
to?" I asked. She nodded, "I want him to suffer." 'As if the crushed balls
weren't enough,' I thought. "Of course, baby," I said.

I took the pillowcases off the pillows and handed her one and began putting
her clothes in mine. She began filling hers. Once all the clothes were
collected, I asked, "Do you have anything in the bathroom?" She did and put
her make-up and toiletries in her pillowcase. "That's it," she said, "Now
what?" "Now I punish your boyfriend," I said. "Ex-boyfriend," she corrected.
We smiled at each other and I led her to the living room.

Martin was still laying on the floor, his scrotum a bluish-purple. "You may
not want to watch this," I said turning to Brooke. She shook her head and I
smiled and shrugged.

I straddled his chest and hit Martin on the jaw. I knew I had broken it with
my first hit, but I drove my other fist into his mouth. Blood seeped from his
mouth. I looked up at Brook who stood staring wide-eyed, a small hand covering
her mouth. "Good?" I asked. She nodded and I stood up.

"Wow," she said softly still looking down at the man she thought was 'Mr.
Right', "you could have easily have killed him." "Yes, I could have. Do you
want that?" I asked. She shook her head, "No, he's suffered enough." I smiled
and said, "He'll have plenty of time in the hospital to think about lying to a
woman again." She nodded.

She picked up her pillowcase with her clothes and toiletries. I put a hand on
her forearm and with my free hand plucked her bikini from my pussy. It was
soaked. I dropped it into her bag. Her eyes widened and she looked up at me.
"Sorry," I said, "I was getting horny at the thought of beating him," and
motioned toward the man on the floor. She stared at me for a long time and I
began to get dressed. Shrugging into my coat, she said, "You amaze me. Thank
you." I hadn't expected a 'thank you.' "For what?" I asked. "For opening my
eyes and for doing something that I couldn't do," Brooke said. "You're
welcome," I said, picking up the second pillowcase with her clothes, "I'll
help you out."

We put the bags in the trunk of her car. She retrieved a business card from
her purse, handing it to me. 'Brooke Allen, Esq. Attorney at Law' it read. "If
you ever need my services," she said. I smiled put her card in my pocket and
handed her one of my business cards which simply read, 'Mistress Electra,
Dominatrix' and gave my phone number. "In case you ever need my services," I
said and we laughed.

I put a hand behind her head and kissed her on the lips once more, allowing my
tongue to explore her mouth. When we separated, I said, "Take care, Brooke,
and good luck in finding 'Mr. Right'." "Thank you, mistress," she said;
"perhaps we'll meet again," holding my card to her lips.

In the years since that meeting, Brooke and I have become friends as well as
business partners. She has become an assistant district attorney. When we meet
for lunch or drinks, we draw the stares of those around us. Petite Brooke at
five-foot two-inches and I at six-foot four-inches look every bit the polar
opposites, but we carry a dark secret. Brooke has used my services and my
muscles, but not in the traditional sense. I have become Brooke's 'enforcer',
a roll that I love.

Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it.

Muscle Fan

covert.1@hotmail.com