My Story Part 17
By Muscle Fan, covert.1@hotmail.com
A short story of a coed muscle goddess.


The semester ended and I had pre-registered for my senior year. I was going
into phsychology and abandoning my chemistry major. I was still working out
almost nightly, taking my 'nutriants' as I called it which assisted with my
muscle growth. Jeremy had gone home for the summer, but Jane remained with me.
Occasionally she would accompany me on my late night workouts in the schools
weightroom now that she didn't have homework to contend with. She was toning
her body and we were eating healthier.

As the summer progressed, I found I was becoming restless. I was looking
forward to school starting again; that would take my mind off the thoughts I
was having. I couldn't seem to get the thought of the drunk from Palm Desert
that I had killed out of my mind.

One evening, Jane and I were watching a movie on cable. The storyline dealt
with a rape and the subsequent investigation and capture of the rapist. Jane
mentioned to me that she wish the cops would have shot the guy rather than
bring him to trial, that there were too many chances of him escaping justice.
I asked Jane, "So do you feel it's all right for individuals to dole out the
punishment than have the condemed go through the courts?" Her answer surprised
me when she said, "Yes, I think our courts are overburdened and judges to
lenient. Prisons are overcrowded and that the majority of prisoner's released
are not rehabilitated but will be return offenders." 'She does make some valid
points,' I thought.

I was about to continue our conversation when the phone rang. It was John, the
young man I had met at the desert, the young man I had screwed and had warned
the father about beating his wife, John's mother. It seems that the father had
forgotten my warning, and had beaten his wife bad enough that she was now in
the local hospital. John said that his father had stormed out of the house and
he was calling from the hospital where he had taken his mom. He gave me his
address, and I told him I'd be over to their house shortly. When I hung up, I
repeated what John had told me. I told Jane, "I'm going to make that man pay
for beating up on his wife; I'll be back in a while." "I'm coming with you,"
Jane said, "I want to see justice in action."

We arrived at the house a short time later. The house was dark, but we let
ourselves in. "What do you want to do?" Jane asked. "I want to wait till that
son of a bitch comes back, and then I want to make him regret what he did to
his wife," I said. We sat in the dark, I in a chair, Jane on the couch. As it
was, we didn't have long to wait. A car pulled into the driveway and a minute
later the front door was opened by the father. He first saw Jane sitting on
the couch. Jane had on a school girl pleated skirt and a whte blouse tied just
below her breasts.

"Who are you? Are you one of John's friends?" the father asked. That's when he
took a few steps into the living room and saw me sitting in the chair. "Oh, I
see, John called you. Look, get out of my house before I call the cops," he
said and went to a table against the far wall where the phone was. Jane, who
was closer, got up and pulled the handset from the man's hand and put it back
in the phone's cradle.

I stood and walked slowly toward the man who began to back away from me. I
could almost smell the fear on him and I loved it. Now that he was here, the
thought of what I could do with him was intoxicating. I was wearing my
snakeskin catsuit that Tami had made for me and my 4-inch stilletto heels. The
suit clung to every curve and every muscle like a second skin. I know I made
an imposing sight. He unwittingly backed himself into a corner. I grabbed his
collar and lifted him against the two walls. He was grappling with my arm, but
I held him fast. "Jane, why don't you come over and take this assholes shoes,
socks and pants off him. I want to watch when the skin turns purple from the
beting I'm going to give him," I said. Jane did and soon he was only wearing
the shirt on his back. I lowered him to the floor, then gripped the shirt at
the buttons and litterally ripped it off him. Now the man was naked and both
Jane and I looked him up and down. He tried to cup his genitals but I said,
"Let go of your dick, asshole, there's nothing there I haven't seen before."

He was pitiful. I thought so before, but now he looked like a frightened
animal, and well he should. "Look, please, leave me alone. I won't hurt my
wife again. Don't hurt me, please, just go," he begged. 'What a wimp,' I
thought. I cocked my head to one side and grabbed his left hand. I took his
little finger between my forefinger and thumb and snapped it like a match
stick. The man let out a loud cry. I did the same with the next one and the
next. "Jane, come here and snap a finger, let's see if you can," I said. Jane
approached the man who has sunk to his knees and was sobbing uncontrollably.
She grasped the index finger of the left hand and bent it back snapping it at
the joint to the hand. "Well done, Jane, how'd that make you feel?" I asked.
"It felt wonderful, I had no idea I could do that," she said.

I lifted the man to his feet and held him in the corner. "Jane, give him a
shot in the ribs with everything you've got," I said. She did and I distinctly
heard a rib crack. "Well done, Jane, now watch this," I said and then hit him
near where Jane had and there was the sound of three more ribs cracking. I
brought his left arm up behind his back and pulled it upward toward the
ceiling. I had dislocated his shoulder and again he screamed.

"Watch what I can do with my legs, Jane," I said and positioned the man's rib
cage between my thighs as I lay on the floor. I began a gradual squeeze. His
ribs gave and sent him gasping for breath. "Your turn, Jane, what do your want
to do," I asked as I got to my feet. Jane walked over and lifting her skirt,
sat on the man's face. "I want to have him tongue my clit," she told me, then,
"Come on, asshole, get that tongue working or we'll hurt you some more." Truth
of the matter was we were going to hurt him more, but I thought I'd let Jane
get her clit serviced first. I could hear slurping and whimpering, moaning and
Jane's soft sighs of pleasure as she came. Jane stood and smoothed her skirt.
I must say, I was turned on by her schoolgirl attire.

I again looked down at the man who was clutching his ribs and lying on his
back. His knees were bent and feet flat on the floor. I slowly placed the heel
of my stilletto over the metatarsal of his left foot and slowly brought the
weight of my whole body to bear on it. The bone snapped and the tissue gave
way. There wasn't a lot of blood, but if this man was to live, he'd have a
noticeable limp.

"You see how easy it is to destroy someone, Jane?" I asked, "Doesn't this give
you a feeling of power?" "It does, Mistress," Jane said, "in fact, it's making
me horny." I unzipped my suit and peeled it from my body. Jane untied her
blouse and undid the buttons, removing it, then did the same with her skirt.
"Let's go in the bedroom where we'll be more comfortable," Jane said. "I'll
bring this bastard, he might want watch and jack off while he still can when
we make love," I said. I carried him to the bedroom and sat him in a chair. No
sooner had I done that than Jane shoved me to the bed and french kissed me. We
made love urgently. Destroying this man had made us both horny. I looked over
at him and he was watching us. Unable to get up and run, and having difficulty
breathing, I was surprised to see that he was stroking his penis.

When we were done, I said to Jane, "Watch this, my love," and straddled the
man in the chair. As I lowered myself and engulfed his erection, I turned to
Jane over my shoulder and said, "Just watch what I can do with my pussy." I
contracted my vaginal muscles and the man winced in pain. I then stood up and
he was lifted out of the chair. His dead weight was held aloft solely by his
straining cock. "Mistress, you must have the most well developed vagina in the
whole world," Jane said. I took one step back from the chair and relaxed my
muscles. He fell to the floor.

"I think it's time to put this poor bastard out of his misery, don't you,
Jane?" I asked. "You're probably right," she said, "how are you going to do
it?" "I'm going to crush his skull with my thighs, that should be fun, for me
anyway," I said as I sat on the edge of the bed and positioned the man's head
between my thighs and against my clit. I gradually applied pressure and
minutes later, was rewarded with the cracking of his skull. I stood and let
him slump to the floor. I felt for a pulse and found a faint one. 'It's
amazing what the human body can endure,' I thought.

Jane had gone back into the living room to dress. I used the master bathroom,
looking at my awsome body in the mirror over the sinks. I fingered my clit and
was rewarded by it becoming hard at my touch. 'Plenty of time for play, my
little flower,' I thought. I used the toilet then followed Jane to the living
room and put my catsuit on once more. "Is he dead?" Jane asked. "No, not yet,
but soon," I said, "Jane, I want you to clean up our mess. I'll get rid of the
body and come back to pick you up."

I loaded him in the car and found an alley that was deseted at this time of
the night not too far from the house. I pulled him from the trunk and laid him
against an abandoned furniture store. He was lying on his side, head resting
on the pavement. I again felt for a pulse and still finding one, put the heel
of my stilletto in his ear and pressed down. There was little resistance as my
heel penetrated his brain. 'I'll have to remember to clean these shoes once I
get home,' I thought.

I returned to pick up Jane. She had miticulously cleaned the living room and
bedroom. I looked around and noticed how tidy the woman, John's mother, had
kept the place. It would be a nicer, quieter household without the husband
there. I still felt sorry for all the pain and suffering that John and his
mother had gone through over the years, but now they could get on with their
lives.

Jane and I went back to our apartment. We discussed the situation, what we had
done and what we could have done better. We showered and made love one more
time before falling asleep in each others arms.

The next morning the local section of the newspaper ran a story about the man,
John Hansen, Sr., being found in an alley, the aparent victim of a hit and run
driver. The story went on to say that it wasn't immediately known what he was
doing in the alley, but that his wife was currently in the hospital as the
result of a prior mugging. Basically it seemed that tragedy had befallen the
Hansen household, but I knew that things would be looking up when Mrs. Hansen
was released.

Jane and I both felt that justice had been served, if only at the hands and
feet of a pair of avenging angels.