Public Service
By Muscle Fan, covert.1@hotmail.com



Prologue: Monica Randall, dominatrix, actress and my mistress, related this
story to me. I have not added to her tale, but have changed the names of her
'submissive' and clients so that their identities may remain confidential. I'm
confident that anything that Monica relates to me is true and accurate as I've
been witness to some of her muscular feats as well as brutal acts.

Monica came to make the acquaintance of Marsha Jenkins and her partner, George
Morgan, both detectives for the Los Angeles Police Department, when she was
questioned about the death of a 'street punk'. The soon became one of Mistress
Monica's submissive's.

This is a tale of how she helped Marsha's sister, Melissa, overcome a failed
marriage.

It had been several weeks since I had killed Frank, the pervert. His death was
still on-going and, I felt, would remain so. I had been careful not to leave
DNA or other evidence that I killed the bastard. The feeling of destroying
Frank was intoxicating. It was almost as if my muscles had taken control of my
mind, and I had to submit to their will. The coup de grace came when I crushed
his head between my thighs. I nearly climaxed as his skull fractured, but I
had to wait until I got home to masturbate and relieve my sexual tension.

So I was happy when I got a call from Marsha Jenkins, or I should say,
Detective Marsha Jenkins with the Los Angeles Police Department. She sounded a
bit upset, but in that line of work, I could understand it. She asked to see
me that evening. "What's wrong, baby?" I asked. "Mistress," she said, "it's my
sister, but I'll tell you all about it tonight."

Marsha showed up that evening, coming right from work. In the living room I
said, "Please, sit down; you look like you could use a glass of wine." I went
to the wet bar and poured her a glass of cabernet. "Thank you, mistress," she
said, taking a sip right away. I sat on the couch opposite her and put a leg
up, allowing my satin robe to fall open. I watched Marsha's face as she looked
at body and watched me flex my quadriceps.

"Tell me about your sister," I said. She took a long sip of wine and then sat
it on the coffee table separating us. "My sister is being abused," she said,
"Her dirt bag husband slaps her around." "Isn't this something the police
should handle," I asked. "Yes, they should, but when they show up, Melissa
refuses to press charges and denies the abuse," she said. "Can't you talk some
sense into her?" I asked. She chuckled and said, "You would think that with me
being a detective, I could, believe me, I've tried."

"And what exactly do you want me to do," I asked. "Mistress, I know what you
did to that man from the beach," she said, "George told me. I want you to take
care of Roy." I looked at Marsha for a minute; a tear ran down her cheek. "By
'taking care' of her husband, you mean you want me to kill him," I asked just
so that I wasn't mistaking the request. She nodded her head and said softly,
"Y-yes." "Have you said anything to your sister about this?" "Oh, no,
mistress," she said, "she would never agree to such a thing." "Children?"
"Yes, two, a boy and a girl," Marsha said, "and I'm sure they know what's
going on, I'm afraid that Roy will start to abuse the children if this is left
to go on." "OK," I said.

"OK?" she asked, "You mean you'll take care of it?" I chuckled, "Of course,
not a problem." "Oh, mistress," she said, getting to her feet, "How will I
ever repay you?" I stood up allowing my robe to fall to the couch. "For
starters, you can pleasure your mistress," I said, stepping towards her. I
wiped away the remnants of a tear before she sunk to her knees and toyed with
my clit with her tongue. I could feel my clit responding to her warm breath
and sucking. "Hmm," I said, "you have a marvelous mouth, baby. We'll go to my
bedroom once I climax and Mistress Monica will service her baby."

For the next thirty minutes Marsha brought me to the brink of climax, finally
I could hold off no longer an erupted with a torrent of cum. "Come on, baby,"
I said, leading the way to my bedroom.

I sat in my lounge chair and said, "Get undressed, slowly." She did, beginning
with her blazer, and then unbuttoned her blouse. She removed her shoes, socks
and her automatic from her belt clip. Next was her badge and belt. She
unsnapped her pants and pulled the zipper down allowing the slacks to fall to
the carpet. She stepped out of them. Marsha was clad only in bra, panties and
an ankle holster. She unstrapped her ankle holster and pistol as I got to my
feet.

"Let me," I said as I stepped in front of her. Holding her close, I reached
around and unsnapped her bra, and then slid it from her shoulders. Her skin
looked pale next to my deep tan. "I love the feel of your breasts against
mine," I said.

Taking her by her ribcage, I lifted her off the floor so that our breasts were
together. Her nipples were erect and I ran them around my areola. I laid her
on my bed and then knelt between her legs. I lowered myself slowly to her,
taking her wrists, pulling her arms above her head. "Hmm," she sighed.

I allowed my body to take control, enjoying the feel of Marsha beneath me, my
clit resting on her satin panties, her breasts below mine. I kissed the nap of
her neck. "I'm going to get my strap-on, baby, don't move," I said and went to
an armoire against the wall at the foot of the bed. I studied my 'toys' for a
moment before selecting a ten-inch long strap-on. I quickly stepped into the
sex toy and tightened the straps. The ten-inch long phallus stood out from my
pussy like a flagpole. When I turned around, Marsha, who was raised up on her
elbows gasped at the sight of the strap-on. I chuckled and said, "Don't be
afraid, baby, Mistress Monica will be gentle."

She looked at me and then nodded and began to move her panties down her hips.
"No," I said, "leave them," as I knelt once more between her legs. I again
lowered myself to her and poised the head of the strap-on at her labia.

Interlocking our fingers, I pushed forward gently. There was a faint tearing
sound as the head of the dildo went through Marsha's satin panties. "See
Marsha," I said as I continued to push, entering her. She held her breath as
the dildo entered her. "Nice and gentle," I said, stopping only briefly, "Are
you alright?" She nodded and I withdrew slightly until the tip was at her
labia and then entered her again. Deeper this time and then I withdrew until I
was nearly out.

I pushed deeper, until my dildo was entirely in. Again I kissed her neck and
whispered, "How do I feel, baby, how does your mistress feel in your pussy?"
"Hmm, you feel wonder-wonderful, m-mistress," she stammered. She wrapped her
legs around my waist and I proceeded to stroke her with my dildo, slowly at
first, but then a little quicker. She began to pant. I quickened the pace
until she climaxed.

We lay there still locked together until her breathing returned to normal.
Withdrawing, I unfastened the straps and removed my strap-on and Marsha's wet
panties. I lay down once more and entered her labia with my clit. My clit is
big; perhaps three-inches, when I'm aroused as I was now and I began to
thrust. It didn't take me long to reach an orgasm again.

"That was fantastic, Marsha," I said. "Thank you, mistress," she said, "I
can't tell you how good that was and how much I needed that after all the
stress with my sister." "Tell me, when do you want me to kill your
brother-in-law?" I asked. A frown crossed her face and she said, "I shouldn't
even think of such a thing given I'm a cop, but I don't know what else to do
or who else to turn to." "Did you think of asking George?" I inquired. "He's
the one who suggested you, that's when he told me about the guy from the
beach," Marsha said. "Yeah," I said, "he was big and strong, but a pervert who
deserved to die." "Don't take any unnecessary chances, mistress," she said,
"Roy is just mean."

We discussed how Marsha would get Melissa and the kids out of the house.
Tuesday was Roy's bowling night with his buddies, so Marsha would invite
Melissa over for dinner. This would leave Roy alone when he got home about
nine o'clock. "Perfect," I said, "he shouldn't take long, do you want me to
call the police when it's done, you probably don't want your sister and kids
to find his body." "That's a good idea, mistress," she said, "Here's a key to
their house. Melissa gave it to me so that I could watch it when they went
away, which never happened." "Do they have any dogs," I asked. "No, Roy won't
allow it," Marsha said, as she jotted the address on a note pad. "Alarm?" I
asked. "No," she said.

Before Marsha left, I said, "Don't worry, Marsha, I'll take care of Roy."
"Please, mistress, just make it quick," she said as she headed for her car.
'Now what would be the fun in that,' I thought as I turned to go back in the
house.

Tuesday was a moonless night. I parked a few doors from Melissa and Roy's and
using the key Marsha had given me, went in through the front door. The house
was dark, except for a single light from the kitchen at the rear of the house.
The house, a two-story with attached garage was in a modest neighborhood of
almost identical homes. I went up the stairs to the bedrooms and the first one
I entered was the little girl's room. 'Neat and orderly,' I thought as I shut
the door. Across the hall, the boy's room was also tidy. Children's pictures
and a family portrait were hung in the hall, belying the hurt the husband
inflicted on his family. I studied the family looking back at me, 'Where do
things go wrong?' I thought. At the end of the hall was the master suite. A
large king size bed an adjacent on suite, and a door led to a large walk-in
closet. 'Perfect,' I thought, 'I'll wait in here.'

I didn't have long to wait. A car pulled in the driveway and I heard the
garage door roll up. I stepped into the closet. 'I'll get Roy when he comes up
to the bedroom,' I thought. I heard the door from the garage open, footsteps
and then giggling. 'Who's that,' I thought, 'it sounded like a woman's voice.
It can't be Melissa.'

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs leading upstairs, a pair of
footsteps. "So we'll have to work on that form of yours, baby," the man said.
"Uh-huh," the woman said, "is that all you want to work on, Roy?" He laughed
and said, "You know it's not," as they came into the bedroom, "make yourself
comfortable." I looked around the door to see Roy pulling his bowling shirt
over his head. The woman, a petite brunette, had on the same bowling shirt and
was pulling hers over her head. Not Melissa. 'That bastard,' I thought, 'the
wife is away and he's screwing around on her.'

"Are you sure she won't be home?" the brunette asked. "Nah," Roy said, "she's
at her sister's place, the dike detective; she won't be home for a long time."
The woman was just stepping out of her jeans as was Roy.

Roy stopped undressing and watched the woman who now was only clad in bra and
a thong. "Do you like this baby," she asked opening her arms wide and putting
her weight on one hip. "I can see you do," she said, nodding in the direction
of his erection beneath his briefs. Roy laughed and said, "Big Roy seems to
like what he sees." "Big Roy?" she said, "Why do men have to name their
cocks?"

His penis sprung free as he dropped his underwear. He went to her and reaching
behind her, unsnapped her bra. She shrugged out of the shoulder straps and
then balancing on one foot, slipped her thong off her hips. She stepped out of
the swatch of cloth and wrapped her arms around Roy. The pair kissed, a long,
deep kiss, but when she pulled away, she looked at the closet where I stood in
the shadows. She blinked once, twice and then a third time.

"Ah, ahh, Roy," she said, bringing a hand to her mouth while covering her
pubis with her other hand. "Who's that?" she managed. Roy, whose back had been
to the closet quickly turned. I stepped out of the darkened closet. "Hello,
Roy," I said, looking down at his withering erection, "I guess 'Big Roy' isn't
feeling so big now, is he?" He opened and closed his mouth as if he was a fish
out of water. Finally he managed, "Who are you, did Melissa send you?"

The brunette looked from Roy to me and then back to Roy. "Look," she said,
"Ah, I'll be going," and stooped to pick up her clothes. Roy glanced down at
her, but didn't say anything. "You're not going anywhere," I said, "just leave
the clothes where they are." She took a sideways glance up at Roy and said,
"Roy, who is she?" "I don't know, Cindy," he said softly, and then to me, "who
are you?" I stepped forward so I was only a foot or two from Roy, "It doesn't
matter who I am, Roy, what matters is why I'm here."

Roy looked as if he were thinking about that when he hit me in my abs. It was
a short quick jab that, while it took me by surprise, didn't knock the wind
out of me or double me over. I smiled at him. "Oh," I said, "a tough guy,
huh?" and then threw a short jab into his mid-section. He doubled over
immediately.

Cindy stood up, leaving her clothes on the floor. "Look, whoever you are, I
want to leave. You apparently have some issues to work out with Roy." I
laughed. "Cindy, did you know this asshole you were about to climb into bed
with beats his wife? Did you know that?" She looked at Roy who was still
clutching his gut, and shook her head. "He told me his wife was cheating on
him," she said. "I'd say it's the other way around," I said.

"Let her go," Roy said, straightening up, wincing and clutching his stomach,
"she isn't involved." I looked from Cindy to Roy and said, "She's involved,
how long have the two of you been playing around?" The two exchanged glances
and Cindy said, "About a year." "And Melissa never suspected?" I asked. Roy
gave a short laugh and said, "That bitch hasn't a clue."

I backhanded him across the jaw and he went down. I looked at him on the
floor, and then turned to Cindy. "How did you meet this bastard?" I asked. "I
started at the shop where Roy works about two years ago," she said, "We hit it
off almost instantly." "And you both bowl on the company team," I asked. She
nodded.

I took Cindy in my arms and held her close. The top of her head barely came to
my chin. I allowed my hand to slide down to her butt and I toyed with her
anus. She put a hand on my chest, her small fingers going immediately to my
nipple. "Hmm," she crooned, "that feels good." I moved my hand up to the small
of her back feeling my way along her spine. I wrapped both arms around her,
pinning her arms against her sides, and then with slow deliberate power, I
squeezed. She began to push on my breast trying to pull away, but that was
impossible as I continued to constrict her against me.

"Pl-please," she said trying to fill her collapsing lungs with oxygen,
"please, let me go." I heard and felt the first rib fracture. "Shh, baby, save
your precious breath," I said, looking down at her. I stood up straight,
holding Cindy against me, her feet off the floor. She tried kicking but soon
her legs began to spasm as she continued to fight off death. I squeezed the
last of her breath from her lungs and felt her spine break, yet I held her
until her head lolled to one side. Only then did I put her body on the bed.

Roy was coming around. He massaged his jaw where I had hit him. He shook his
head to clear the cob webs and looked up at me. "Welcome back, bitch," I said
looking down at him. He smirked and then began to stand up. As he got to his
feet he looked at Cindy. "What did you do?" he asked. "Nothing," I told him,
"I just hugged her." "You killed her," Roy said looking at Cindy, "why did you
do that?" I shrugged, "Collateral damage I suspect," I said. He stole a quick
glimpse at the bedroom door and I chuckled. "You can try to run, but you won't
get far," I said, "You'll just die tired, but the outcome will be the same,
you'll be dead."

Terror filled his eyes. He tried not to show it, but I had seen it before. He
bolted for the door and I caught him no more than ten feet down the hall. I
grabbed an arm and he tried to spin out of my grasped. He broke free but his
momentum carried him into the adjacent wall. I gave a quick jab to his head,
but he managed to duck before I could connect. My fist went through the
plaster board sending up a plume of white dust. Pulling my fist from the hole
in the wall, I stepped towards Roy and brought my knee up, catching him in the
groin. "Aww," he whaled, bending over while he clutched his groin.

I took his head under my arm and walked, or rather, dragged him back to the
bedroom. Once there, I flexed my free arm and said, "Look you little wimp,
look at my big muscles." He looked up unable to move his head. "Do you like
them?" I asked and chuckled. When he didn't say anything, I released his head
and quickly slapped him across the cheek. A gentle slap, but his head snapped
back. "Come on, sissy-boy, where's that desire to fight back? You're such a
tough guy when it comes to beating up on weak women" I said, "Let's see what
you've got." I put my fists on my hips.

Roy looked at me and I didn't think he was going to take my verbal berating.
"Come on you pansy ass, hit me, go on, try your best," I said, "I'm just a
woman and I'm more of a 'man' than you are, you and your pathetic little
cock." 'If that doesn't set him off,' I thought, 'nothing will.' His face
reddened and then he balled his right fist and hit me in the abs, he followed
that closely with a left hook to the jaw and a right again to my midsection.
'That's more like it,' I thought and smiled at him.

His anger only intensified and he hit me three more times in my abs, but I
could tell he was beginning to tire. "Weak little man," I said softly, "I'd
love to take my time and make you suffer, but I need to finish what I came
here for." He cocked his head and said, "What's that?"

Without answering, I quickly grabbed his right arm and stepped behind him
bringing his arm up behind his back. At first, I'm sure it was painful as he
screamed, but as I lifted up, I knew his arm was numb. With my free arm, I
looped it around his neck, cutting off his oxygen. I whispered in his ear,
"I'm getting wet, Roy, all this playing around is making me hot," and laughed,
"I'm going to cut this short so I can go home and play with myself. I just
love to masturbate."

I tightened my bicep, watching it swell against the side of Roy's head. He was
slapping at my arm, but he couldn't escape or catch his breath. Within
minutes, he had passed out and I continued to constrict his neck for another
five minutes.

I laid him on top of Cindy and stepped back to look at this grisly scene. 'I
hope Melissa doesn't freak out,' I thought, 'I better stage this to look like
a home invasion or robbery.' I began emptying dresser drawers onto the floor
and turned over a lamp from the nightstand.

Before I left, I picked up the phone in the kitchen and dialed 911. I
whispered to the emergency operator, "There are a couple of dead people at,"
and I gave them Melissa's address, "send the police." I hung up, leaving the
front door open as I walked out.

From my car I called Marsha. "It's done," I said, "and I called the cops. You
might want to keep Melissa there for a while longer." "Yes, mistress," she
said softly so that she couldn't be heard, "and thank you." I chuckled, "Not a
problem, it was my pleasure, but you need to know he wasn't alone." There was
silence on the other end of the line and I had thought that we had been
disconnected when she said, "What?"

"Roy came in after bowling, but he wasn't alone, a woman, Cindy, was with him
and they were getting ready to crawl into bed together," I told her, "I
surprised them." "Oh, my," Marsha said. I was driving away from the
neighborhood as a police cruiser passed me heading for Melissa's. "What about,
ah, Cindy, did she leave before you took care of Roy," Marsha asked. "Not
exactly," I said, "they're both where they set out to be, in bed." There was a
faint gasp on Marsha's end and she said, "I better get back to Melissa and the
kids, I don't know how she's going to process all this. Thanks again,
mistress."

"Like I said, it was my pleasure, consider it a public service," I told her
before clicking off.

It was two weeks before I heard from Marsha. She called and I asked, "How is
Melissa?" "She's put the funeral behind her but is still in disbelief that
Roy, even though he was abusive, was having an affair with Cindy," she said,
"He really was more of a bastard than I thought." "Yes, he was," I said, "And
the children, how are they?" "They're coping," Marsha said, "Kids are
resilient, they'll bounce back." "Good," I said, "are you investigating?" "No,
because of Melissa being my sister," Marsha said, "another detective is
heading the investigation. He won't be contacting you." "Good to know, baby,
thanks," I said. "No, thank you, mistress," Marsha said, "If I can ever do
anything for you, let me know." "Hmm, like a 'get out of jail free card'," I
said, and laughed, "Like I told you that night, consider it a public service."
She chuckled and said, "Alright, I'll talk to you later, mistress."