My Story Part 21
By Muscle Fan, covert.1@hotmail.com
A short story of a coed muscle goddess.


Mike was being a dick. "I asked you nicely not to see Barbara and Becky again,
now I'm going to break your ankle," I said, "It will leave you with a
permanent limp, but just remember, this is your choice. You really need to
lose the attitude." Grasping his foot in one hand and his shin in the other, I
twisted. The ankle snapped with a 'crunch' and Mike let out a howl followed by
quite a few expletives.

I smiled at him as tears ran down his cheeks. "You see how easy it is for me
to break you," I said, "you will stay away from Becky and Barbara and if I
ever hear of you seeing them or going near them, I will come after you and
kill you, and it won't be painless, do you understand?" "Yes," he sobbed. I
took his chin between my thumb and forefinger, and sqeezed, and said, "Yes,
who?" "Yes, mistress," he replied. I smiled down at the helpless man. I patted
his cheek, then doubling my fist, gave him a right cross to the jaw,
shattering it. He was out cold.

"OK, let's drop him some place," I said, "He's going to need some medical
attention." Jeremy picked Mike up and throwing him over his powerful shoulder,
carried him out to the car. "You know, Jane," I said, "This place may be
useful when we have someone else to break." "I think you're right, mistress,
it's quiet and undisturbed, but we could use a bit more light and maybe some
'toys' as well," Jane said. "Excellent," I told her, "we'll have to see what
we can find."

We dropped Mike in a vacant lot not far from the emergency room of the local
hospital. Someone would find him and get him there. We didn't want to be asked
a lot of questions about what happened to him. We then drove back to Becky's.
Mother and daughter were still up. Jane knocked on the door. Barbara let the
three of us in. I introduced Jeremy and we sat in the living room where a
short time ago, Barbara had had a knife held to her throat.

"Mike won't be troubling you any more," I said, "It took some convincing but I
can be very persuasive when I want to be." "I just want to thank you all for
being here," Barbara said, "and thanks for watching out for Becky. I don't
know what I would have done if he had hurt her." "We'll be sure to watch out
for Becky," Jane said, "OK, we should go, just let Becky know if that creep
comes around again and we'll take care of him."

We left and went to the apartment, Jeremy dropping us at the curb. Jane and I
showered and made love, eventually falling asleep.

The following evening, Becky didn't show up at the weightroom. Nor did she the
next evening. On the third night, Jane and I went to her house. Barbara
answered the door and let us in. Becky was sitting on the couch. "Where have
you been?" I asked. "Oh, Mistress Amanda, the police were here questioning mom
and I about what happened to Mike," Becky said, "I guess the doctor's or he
reported the beating you gave him to the police." "What did you tell them?" I
asked. "I said that I didn't really know you, that you and Jane were just a
couple that I met at a gay bar and brought home," Becky said, "I really didn't
know what else to tell them. I don't know how convincing I seemed."

Now I was beginning to worry. I didn't want the cops snooping around and Jane
and I didn't need this our senior year of college. Thoughts of getting
expelled briefly ran through my mind.

"Well," I said, "that will buy us a little time I guess. At least they'll
start looking in the gay bars." "What should we do, Mistress?," Jane asked.
"We need to take care of Mike once and for all," I replied, "we should have
done it when we had the chance."

Back at our apartment, Jane and I had some planning to do. We hatched a plan
that just might work. The next day, Jane and I went shopping. This wasn't
anything out of the ordinary, but what we were shopping for was unusual for
us. We hit a couple of 'specialty' shops and a brief stop at the campus chem
lab before heading home.

Back at the apartment, we changed into our disguises. We were about to visit
Mike in the hospital. Jane had selected a nurse's uniform complete with hat,
white nylons, white shoes and name badge. She looked every bit the helpful
nurse. I, on the other hand, opted for surgical scrubs of green. I bought a
paper hair covering, stethescope and, like Jane, a name badge. Together we
looked like anyone else on staff at the hospital. In my pocket I carried an
empty syringe.

Driving to the hospital, we went over our plan one last time. I thought the
simpler, the better. It was about 11:00PM when we arrived. We sat watching the
rear of the building for a few minutes. As luck had it, it looked like we were
in time for a shift change. We entered the rear employee entrance and made our
way to the nearest nursing station. Again, luck was with us, as lying on the
top of the floor nurses desk was a list of all the patients as well as their
room number and doctor assignment.

Mike was on the 3rd floor in the critical care unit. Both Jane and I exited
the elevator and made our way to the end of the hall. Before turning the
corner and encountering the nurse's station, we took a moment to compose
ourselves. Jane would 'run interference' for me and engage the charge nurse in
conversation as I continued to Mike's room.

As Jane stepped up to the desk at the nurse's station, I passed behind her and
slipped into Mike's room. He was hooked up to an IV. The monitor beeped its
rythmic tone. Mike was sleeping. Silently, I withdrew the syringe and drawing
in about 15cc of air, inserted it in the IV port. The bubble of air would
travel into his vein and ultimately into his heart sending him into cariac
arrest.

I withdrew the syringe and stepped back into the shadows. Within a minute,
Mike's eyes opened wide and the monitor at the head of the bed changed its
tone from a soft beep to a shrill call for the charge nurse. I slipped out of
the room before anyone arrived.

The nurse Jane had been talking to was first on the scene, with Jane a stride
behind. But rather than Jane going to Mike's aid, she continued on with me to
the stairwell. We ran down the stairs and out the back door that we had
entered.

In the safety of our car, Jane asked how it went. "It went well. I don't think
the defibrulator paddles will have much effect on the bubble that hit his
heart," I said, "I would have liked to have stayed and watch the bastard die,
but that would have been risky and raised too many questions. How'd it go with
you?" "No problem, I just mentioned that I was new in pediatrics and wanted to
take a little tour while I was on my break," Jane said. "We'll probably hear
from Becky about whether our plan was successful or not," I told Jane, "that's
the only downside, not knowing it he croaked or not."

The following night, the three of us; Jeremy, Jane and I were in the
weightroom. Becky came and said, "Guess what, Mike died. The police came by
the house earlier and told us. He had a massive heart attack." "That's too
bad," I said, "but might work in our favor. And, how's your mom taking it?"
"She's fine," Becky said, "I think she was mentally over Mike what with
holding a knife to her throat and all."

I looked at Jane and smiled. Becky looked at me quizzically. Jeremy broke the
moment when he said, "Are we going to pump some iron, or stand around
chitchatting?"