Eve - Muscle Mistress
By Muscle Fan, covert.1@hotmail.com
Chapter 9


I had not been looking forward to my business trip to the Midwest. But it
meant meeting with a business associate and maybe a little exploring in
Indianapolis before heading home.

It was summer and unseasonably hot in Indiana. I was away on business, when I
had left southern California; we had had mild temperatures, not like Indiana,
not like now.

But the weather wasn't the only thing that had changed. I had changed, or more
accurately, I felt I was in the process of changing. The first thing I noticed
was my attitude. While I didn't tolerate insubordination, I was becoming less
tolerant with the people who worked for me and served me. This attitude
erupted one day into a physical confrontation with strangers.

I had been visiting a client at a five-star hotel, when at the end of our
meeting, I left handing the parking attendant the parking stub for my car. He
brought the car around, a rental. I was in the process of handing the young
man a folded five-dollar bill as he held the driver's door for me when I
noticed that the seat had been left all the way forward.

For some reason, that I can't explain, this upset me. "Move the seat back," I
said, withdrawing my hand with the folded five-spot. "I beg your pardon," he
said, blinking several times. "I said, move the seat back," I repeated. He
looked from me to the car's interior and then back at me. "Yes, ma'am," he
said, and sat in the seat and released the seat lever. The seat slid back all
the way. "Is that good, ma'am?" he asked, in what I thought was a
condescending manner, as he stepped out of the car.

As he stepped toward me, I pushed him up against the car, my body crushing him
against the rear door panel. I bent and whispered in his ear, "Look, little
man, the next time you want me to squeeze into a space that only a worm like
you can fit in, I'll fold you up and put you in the glove box, do you
understand?" He swallowed hard and said, "Yes, ma'am," in a hushed voice
trying to catch his breath. I stepped back and he breathed deeply, looking up
at me.

I pushed him aside, roughly enough that he almost stumbled and fell, but at
the last second, he caught himself and regained his balance. I stepped into
the car and sat on the leather seat, allowing my skirt to hike up to
mid-thigh. "What are you looking at now, little man?" I sneered as I shut the
door and put the car into drive.

As I drove away, I glanced at the young man in the rearview mirror, hoping he
would make an obscene gesture, but he didn't. Instead it looked as if he might
be ready to cry. 'What a wuss,' I thought, as I drove from the parking lot 'I
wish he would have done something that would have given me a reason to go back
and break an arm or crack a rib', and smiled at the thought.

At the traffic light, I waited, still smiling and thinking of what suffering I
could bring to the parking valet when the man in the car next to me motioned
for me to roll down my window. 'Why not,' I thought and did just that. "Excuse
me," he said, "I couldn't help but notice how striking you are, especially
with that beautiful smile, would you care to have a drink with me?" 'No
bullshit,' I thought, 'Very direct, I like that.' "Hmm," I said, "How do I
know you're not a pervert?" Now he was smiling and said, "Oh, but I am, follow
me," and when the light changed, drove two blocks and turned into a driveway
of the 'Indianapolis Inn'. 'Not exactly a five-star watering hole,' I thought,
'but it's the type of place where people mind their own business.'

The man pulled in to a parking place against the far wall and I took a space
closer to the door. He got out of his car and I was pleased to see he was
six-foot tall and athletically built wearing a Polo shirt and khaki pants. The
Polo shirt fit tight enough to show his broad shoulders.

I stepped out of the car watching the man approach. Once I was out, standing
next to my car, he slowed his approach momentarily and the smiled slipped from
his lips. But the smile came back as he stopped in front of me. "Wow," he
said, "You're gorgeous, thanks for taking me up on the drink, I'm Ken."
"Hello, Ken," I said shaking his hand, "I'm Eve. Do you come here much?" As I
said this I turned to look at the place. He laughed, "Only occasionally, and
you?" "I'm from southern California, so no, I don't come here at all," I said.
"Cali," he said, "I should have known, you didn't look like a Hoosier." We
began walking to the tavern.

"And what does a Hoosier look like," I asked. "Well, not gorgeous, athletic
and tan," he said as he held the door for me. It took a second for my eyes to
adjust to the darkness and when they did, I saw the stage at the far end of
the bar. A striper wearing a G-string and high heels was swaying with the
music, occasionally turning about the pole in the middle of the stage.

Ken steered me to a booth not too far from the front door. "So what brings you
to Indianapolis, business or pleasure?" he asked. "Originally business, but
within the last five minutes, I would say, pleasure," I told him. He smiled at
that and glanced at the dancer on stage.

"May I get you something," a leggy brunette said wearing platform heels, a
pair of satin short-shorts and a bikini bathing suit top stretched across her
large breasts. Ken looked from the waitress to me. "I'll have a Coors Light,"
I said. "Make that two," Ken added. "Bottle or tap?" the girl asked. "Bottle,"
I said. "Same," Ken replied. "Fine," the girl said and walked back to the bar.
We both watched as the girl walked away.

"Nice butt," I said, and he looked at me quickly and smiled, "Tell me you
didn't notice." "OK, guilty, I noticed and yes, very nice butt," he said. "And
what do you do, Ken?" I asked. "Attorney and you?" he quizzed. "Business
woman," I said, "what type of law?" "Criminal," he answered, "what type of
business?" "Varied," I answered, "bars to travel agencies, local attorney?"
"Indy born and bred," he answered, "and you, where are you from?" "Southern
California," I said, "I already told you that." "No, before that; no one in
southern Cal is a native, are they," he said. "Ahh, before that," I said, "is
unimportant; it was a long time ago. I might as well be a native."

The girl brought our beer and sat them on a couple of cocktail napkins.
"Thanks," Ken said. "You're welcome, sugar," she replied. "Thank you," I said,
but she only turned to me and smiled and walked away.

"Rude," I said. "Maybe she's not into women," Ken said. I laughed lightly and
said, "Don't flatter yourself, Ken, I could get her if I wanted her." His
smiled brightened and he said, "I've got a hundred dollars that says you
couldn't." "Make it two hundred and you have a bet," I replied. "You're on,"
he said, "this I've got to see." "Watch me," I said and got out of the booth
and walked slowly to where the waitress stood next to the bar watching the
dancer at the far end of the room.

I stood behind her and whispered close to her ear, "I've got a hundred dollars
for you if you come to the table for a half hour." She tilted her head and
said, "A half hour?" "Uh-huh," I said, and ran an arm around her bare midriff,
"and I can promise that you won't be disappointed." She turned slowly and,
standing on her tiptoes even in the platform heels, kissed me on the lips.

I knew women who worked in dives like this would do anything for money.

She followed me back to the table where Ken was smiling. "Ken, this is ahh,
what's your name honey?" I asked the girl. "Candie," she replied, "with an
'ie'." I smiled and said, "Yes, Candie, with an 'ie', of course." "I'm Eve,
Candie," I said. "What would you like to drink, Candie?" Ken asked. "Gin and
tonic, sweety," Candie said. "Coming right up," Ken said and left the table.

"So what's your story?" Candie asked me. "Ken just picked me up and that's
it," I said, "he bet me two-hundred dollars I couldn't get you into bed." She
raised an eyebrow and said, "But you said you'd give me a hundred for just
coming to the table for a half hour," Candie said. "Yes, and I'll honor that,"
I said, taking her hand and placing it in my lap on my semi-rigid clit, "but
you may want to stay longer, if you want to get to know me better." She smiled
as her fingers outlined my 'she-cock'. "Hmm," she said, "I have to dance in a
few minutes, but you've got me curious now, are you a guy?" Now it was my turn
to smile. "Candie, I'm every bit as much a woman as you," I said, "I'm not a
guy, but I've got a clit that's a big as most men's cocks."

Just then Ken returned with Candie's gin and tonic. He sat it in front of her
and slid into the booth. "So how are you girls doing," he asked. Candie, who
was still looking at me, slowly ran her hand under my skirt, touching my clit
with the tip of her finger. "I think we're becoming good friends," I said to
Ken although I was looking into Candie's eyes.

A server wearing a rhinestone G-string stopped by the table. "You're up next,
Candie," she said. "Thanks, Debbi," Candie said, and Debbi walked off. "I've
got to get ready," Candie said, and left the booth.

"Well, you two look like you're hitting it off," Ken said, taking out his
wallet and extracting two one-hundred dollar bills on the table, slid them
across in front of me. I put the bills in my purse and said, "I told you I
could get her, and I did." "Fair enough," Ken said, "but I have two-hundred
more that says she won't have sex with you." I pretended to think about that
for a minute and then said, "Make it five hundred and you're free to watch." A
bet I knew Ken couldn't pass up. "Deal," he said.

There was a lull in the music and then a new song came over the speakers.
Candie came from behind the curtain wearing a baggy orange jumpsuit. She
swayed to the music and grabbing hold of the stripper pole, circled it several
times. As the music changed tempo, she pulled open the front of the jumpsuit
which had Velcro strips and peeled it away revealing an orange G-string and
matching bikini top.

Candie continued to dance and sway and as she did, the bikini top seemed to
disappear. With ease, she clung to the pole and seemed to defy gravity by
lifting herself eight-feet off the stage. In a quick motion, she plunged
headlong toward the floor stopping inches above the hardwood surface.

After nearly five minutes, her body glistened under the spotlights. Men
sitting on the perimeter of the stage applauded and held up bills of all
denomination. She gratefully accepted them, putting the money under the
waistband of her G-string. One obviously intoxicated customer handed her a
bill which she put in her crotch, blowing him a kiss as she pranced off the
stage.

"Let's go," I said to Ken picking up Candie's gin and tonic. Wordlessly he
followed me through a side door to a corridor leading to where I knew the
dressing rooms would be. I pushed through the door, Ken following closely.
Candie sat at a vanity at the end of a row of six. Lockers adorned one wall
along with a rack with costumes on hangers.

One other girl was in the dressing room, a buxom black girl with skin the
color of rich chocolate. "Hey, this ain't no party, sister," she said as she
turned from the mirror, "and it's sure as hell not for any dudes," she
continued, eyeing Ken. "We're here to see Candie, sweetheart," I said, "So
don't get your G-string in a twist." "You're a big smart mouth bitch," she
said, "aren't you?" "I'm going to just ask you to leave," I said, now focusing
my attention on her, "but I'm only asking once." She stood up and put her
hands on her hips. She was a good foot shorter than me, but that didn't seem
to dissuade her. "Well look whose miss high and mighty," she said, "You're the
one who should clear out of here." I laughed at her. "Foolish bitch," I said,
and I pushed her to one side. She stumbled and nearly fell, but caught herself
on the vanity she had been sitting at.

She balled a fist and hit me in my abdominals with a sharp jab. She may have
had some street fighting experience, but she had never encountered anyone like
me. I put my hands on my hips and watched as she pounded my abs. I laughed
again and she became enraged and tried to deliver an upper cut. I bobbed my
head and caught her fist in the palm of my hand and squeezed. I could feel a
bone snap and watched as her face twisted into a grimace with pain.

I pushed her toward the wall and she fell over a stool and sat down hard on
the floor, her back to the wall. I glanced at Ken who had an unmistakable
erection in his trousers and said, "Watch her," and glanced at the black
dancer. She was massaging her broken hand as I turned my attention back to
Candie.

In two strides I was in front of her. Taking her head in both hands I tilted
her face up and kissed her full lips, exploring her mouth with my tongue. With
one hand I lifted the hem of my dress and breathed softly, "Take me, Candie;
make my clit hard." She looked at my 'she-cock' and gave a short gasp. I was
probably five or six inches at that point, but I knew I needed to feel those
warm moist lips around my shaft. "Do it," I said.

She kissed my clit along the entire length and then teased me with her tongue.
'Experienced,' I thought as I held her hair in my fists. Within five minutes,
I was completely erect and I pulled her face away and let go of her hair.

I turned to the nearest vanity and with one quick motion cleared the top of
cosmetics, make-up remover, hair spray, and other items. I lifted Candie and
lay her on the top. With no foreplay, I slid the elastic sides of the G-string
down her legs. Again, I lifted my skirt, the polyester bunching in my fist. As
I exposed myself, Ken said softly, "Oh, my God!" The black stripper sat
motionless against the wall, no longer concerned with her broken hand,
watching silently. I smiled at Ken and the dancer as I poised the head of my
clit against Candie's pussy.

I began to insert myself and then withdraw, a little at first, but then deeper
and deeper with each stroke. Soon Candie was panting heavily and I took my
hands from her hips and did a double bicep pose as I watched myself in the
mirror. My arms bulged, their veins seemingly ready to burst from my skin.

The stain at Ken's crotch told me that he was enjoying the show. "What about
you, baby," I asked the girl on the floor, "want to be next?" And I gave a
short laugh. She shook her head and I pouted. "Maybe I'll just make you my
bitch anyway," I said.

Candie was letting out a squeal with each thrust. I climaxed and began to slow
my pace. Candie was making an effort to get her breathing under control as I
withdrew my shaft.

Still holding the hem of my skirt up, I walked to where the black girl sat
watching me. "What's your name," I asked, "Ronie," she said, softly. "OK,
Ronie, service me, baby," I said, "Clean your mistress." She looked up at me
with terrified eyes. "Come on sugar, or you won't dance again," I said. She
got to her knees and began to first, lick my shaft and then my pussy. I
allowed her to continue for ten minutes until I came again. "Hmm," I said,
"Thank you baby."

I stepped away from the black dancer and stood facing Ken. I let the hem of my
dress go. "Time to pay up, Ken," I said. "Look," he said, "I thought you were
a woman, I didn't know you were a man, you tricked me." I didn't say anything
for a minute, and then I said, "I didn't trick you, you prick," and I grabbed
him around the neck and pinned him against the wall with one hand while I took
the billfold from his back pocket with my free hand. He was gagging as I let
him slide down the wall before he passed out.

I withdrew the five hundred dollars from his wallet and then another hundred
which I threw at the black dancer. "Here, this is for you," I said, "it's the
least this prick can do after watching you lick my pussy clean." That emptied
his wallet and I tossed it atop the nearest vanity.

Candie was sitting on the edge of the vanity. I handed her the five hundred
dollar and she looked at me questioningly. "He bet me the money that I
couldn't get you to have sex with me. You worked for it, for me it was a
pleasure," and I patted her cheek.

Turning my attention to Ken once more, "Now what am I going to do with you," I
said, "I hate people who don't honor their bets," and I pretended to pick some
lint from my dress. "Look, please, Eve," he said, putting his hands up,
pleading, "I didn't mean ... " I grabbed a wrist with each hand and pulled his
arms apart. "It's Mistress Eve," I said, "call me Mistress Eve." He winced
with pain as I pulled his arms apart. "M-Mistress Eve, please, you're hurting
me," he begged. I laughed and pulled a little bit more. "You're such a pussy,
Ken," I said and let go of his wrists, "lick my shoes, bitch, I want to see
them shine."

He graveled at my feet and licked the toes of my stilettos. The black leather
glistened with his saliva. "Do you like that, my little man?" I asked. "Y-Yes,
mistress," he said quickly. "Good," I said, "Now I want you to pay homage to
Ronie's feet." He looked at the dancer and then moved to where she sat and
immediately began to take each toe in his mouth.

I again turned to Candie. "Thank you, baby, you were wonderful," I said.
"Thank you, mistress," she said, "will I see you again?" "Perhaps, if I come
back to Indiana," I said, and I kissed her and explored her mouth with my
tongue.

I glanced at Ronie who smiled up at me as I pushed through the dressing room
door and out the back door into the parking lot.

The air had cooled slightly and I breathed deeply as I stood next to my car
thinking about control. Thinking about how much I loved to control not just
people, but situations as well. It was a 'rush' to be in control and to meat
out discipline to those who didn't follow my instructions. I loved to control
my muscles; to watch them perform and destroy those that needed to be
destroyed.

I was rubbing my bare upper arms, feeling the veins and the hard muscles when
a movement caught my eye. The rear door to the 'Indianapolis Inn' opened and a
large man, perhaps six and a half feet tall, came out. He was midway to a
battered pickup truck when he saw me standing in the shadows, watching him.

"Well," he exclaimed, "who have we here," he said and turned in my direction.
As he neared, I could smell the whiskey on him. "Go away," I said, "go home to
your wife or girlfriend." He laughed and said, "Now is that anyway to talk to
a gentleman?" "Gee," I said, "I don't know but I'll let you know when I find a
gentleman." "Look, bitch, I'm trying to be nice," he said, "but if you want to
play rough, you met the right man." Quickly he grabbed my wrist and pulled me
into his body. He was strong and held me against his torso, snaking his free
hand around me, squeezing my butt. "Hmm," he said, "Firm, I'm going to enjoy
this." "Not half as much as I am," I said and quickly kneed him in the groin.

He loosened his grip on my wrist and I drove a fist into his flabby
midsection. It was like hitting a bag of gelatin. He doubled over trying to
catch his breath when I hit him with a round-house to the jaw. He fell to the
pavement in a heap, curled in a fetal position.

I stood over him looking down; he resembled a beached walrus. A faint trickle
of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. I walked to where his head lay and
squatted. I felt his shallow breathing on my palm.

I picked up his shoulders and managed to lift him in a cradle fashion and
stood up. The hours at the squat rack paid off as his dead weight was about
three hundred pounds, I thought. I carried him to the rear of his pick-up
truck and raising his unconscious form above my head, in a sort of clean and
jerk movement, dropped him into the bed of the truck. The back of his head
made a sickening sound as it hit the metal bed of the truck. Then I noticed
the dark stain spreading across the truck bed where his head lay. I stood
momentarily watching the blood pool, but felt no remorse for having ended the
life of this man. 'Am I becoming callous or insensitive?' I thought.

I strolled back to my car and drove to the hotel. As I drove I thought, 'My
desire for sex and/or violence has escalated. My need to dominate and control
those I come in contact with has almost reached the point of being an
obsession, but is this a good thing or a bad thing? I guess that depends on
whether you're dominated party or the dominatrix.'

"Good evening," the man behind the reception desk said as I walked through the
front door. "Good evening," I said. The man was in his sixties, balding, with
a fringe of gray hair around his head, but he appeared to take care of himself
despite his age. 'Hal' his name tag read along with the name of the hotel.

Stopping at the desk I said, "Are there any messages for me, Hal?" I knew
there was none. Hal checked the computer and then looked under the counter.
"There doesn't appear to be, ma'am," he said smiling, "and no voice mails
either." "I see," I said, "Can you tell me how late the pool is open?" He
glanced at the clock on the side wall, "Another half hour, ma'am," he said.
"Can I swim naked, Hal?" I asked. The man blushed and said, "I'm sorry, no,
the hotel policy does not permit that." I puckered my lips slightly in a pout
and said, "Oh, that's too bad, Hal, I was hoping for a swim au natural before
I turned in for the night. You see, I didn't bring a suit on this trip." Hal
swallowed at the thought of me swimming naked and I smiled to myself.

"Well," I said, "I guess I'll just have to make do with a long soak in the
tub." Hal nodded his head. "I need to relax these muscles," I continued and
flexed my bicep. My arm swelled to its unbelievable nineteen inches. "Feel how
tense that is, Hal," I said. He tentatively reached across the counter and
felt my muscle. His touch was soft and light.

"Go on squeeze it, don't be afraid," I said. He squeezed and I watched the tip
of his fingers go white, but he barely made an indentation in my skin and I
hardly felt the pressure. "What do you think, Hal?" I asked. "You've got to be
the strongest woman in the world, maybe the strongest woman or man," Hal said.
I smiled and said, "Thank you, you're sweet, would you like to see my legs?"
He shook his head immediately but my legs were hidden by the reception desk.

"You'll need to come into the office," Hal said, now breaking a rule of the
hotel, I'm sure. I stepped to the door to the office which had a keypad
attached to it. I could have easily taken the keypad from the door, but Hal
opened it from inside. Glancing up and down the corridor, he motioned for me
to come inside.

We were in the office area and I held up the hem of my dress. "Look at my
legs, sweety, see the muscles and the veins? And I'm not even flexing them," I
said. Hal's eyes were glued to my quadriceps. I placed my stiletto on a desk
chair and flexed my thigh. The muscles jumped as I tensed them. "Feel my
thigh, Hal. Trace that large vein with your finger," I said. Hal put his index
finger on a large vein and pressed. "Hmm," I cooed, "Trace it higher," I said
and he ran his finger to mid-thigh and stopped. "A little higher, baby," I
told him. He pressed lightly on the throbbing vein and ran his finger another
three inches up my quadriceps. "Higher, honey," I said, "Don't be afraid, Eve
won't bite," and I chuckled lightly. He looked up into my eyes and then back
to his finger which was disappearing under the hem of my skirt. He slowly ran
the tip of his finger to where the large vein dove below the surface into my
pelvis.

"Touch me, baby," I said as I put a hand on his crotch, feeling his penis
respond to my touch. "Touch me and feel my wetness, honey," I said, "Put two
fingers in me and get them wet." For a moment I didn't think he would do what
I asked, but then I felt his fingers brush my labia and enter my vagina. He
jiggled his fingers and then withdrew them, glistening with my juices.

"Lick them, Hal, taste my juices," I told him. He touched the tip of a small
pink tongue to his fingers and then lapped my wetness from his fingertips.
"That's a good boy, Hal," I said, "now get on your knees and lap my pussy. Do
it now!" As he sank to his knees, I put my skirt over his head and held him
against my pussy while he tongued me.

I was so 'turned on' by dominating Hal that I climaxed within minutes, forcing
Hal to slurp my cum.

No sooner had I climaxed than the desk bell rang. Hal's head popped out from
under my skirt as he looked to the door leading to the front counter. Hal
struggled to his feet and hurried to the counter. I heard muffled voices and
then Hal in a louder voice say, "Really, that's all that I have, please put
the gun away!"

I slipped off my shoes and padded to the door frame without making a sound. A
man wearing a Halloween mask of Casper the Ghost had a gun held on Hal.
Quietly I stepped into the outer office. The robber couldn't see me because of
his obstructed view while he wore the mask.

When I was two feet from his outstretched arm, he must have sensed my presence
and swung the gun in my direction. I grabbed a wrist with one hand and pulled.
The gun went off and the bullet found a telephone/fax machine on the rear
credenza. I twisted and Casper let out a scream as his wrist snapped and the
gun clattered to the floor.

When he was halfway across the counter, I grabbed his belt and with a quarter
of a turn, through him to the floor between Hal and I. He landed face first
unable to break his fall with his broken wrist.

"What are you doing," I asked Hal when I noticed the phone in his hand.
"Calling the police," he said. "Put it down," I said, "You can call in a
minute." He looked at me not understanding, but finally placed the telephone
handset back on the base. Hal now stood there looking between me and the man
on the floor writhing in pain holding his broken wrist.

The robber was trying to get up and I put a foot in the small of his back and
pushed him back to the floor. "What are you going to do?" Hal asked. "I'm
going to teach this man a lesson," I said, "The courts will be lenient with
him so I want to give him something that he'll remember."

I sat on the small of his back and taking his arm with the broken wrist in my
hands, I broke each of his five fingers, snapping them as you would a twig.
Hal couldn't watch, I noticed and after the third finger, the man seemed to
have passed out. 'Too bad,' I thought, 'I really wanted him to remember the
pain.'

Holding his arm about mid-back, I slowly raised it toward his head until I
heard his shoulder snap. I smiled and looked up to see Hal watching me, his
eyes wide. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?" he asked. I chuckled and said,
"Absolutely, Hal, he almost shot you. Now you can call the police. But I
suggest that you not tell them what I did to this man." He looked at me
questioningly and then said, "Alright, I won't."

The paramedics and police arrived minutes after Hal placed his call. The man
was still unconscious on the floor. The gun was where it had fallen. The
paramedics transported the man to the hospital, a police cruiser following
while Hal and I gave a statement to the detective who had arrived.

I didn't get to bed till late, but it had been an exciting day. I dreamt of
what I had done to Ken, Candie, Ronie, the parking valet, and especially to
'Casper'. Indianapolis turned out to be a fun town after all.