The transformation part 10
By Muscle Fan, covert.1@hotmail.com
The continuing saga of muscle transformation of a brother and sister.


The next day was Hanks day off. Joanna and Hank woke at approximately the same
time. After a half hour of muscle worship for Hank and stretching and flexing
for Joanna, they dressed in shorts and T-shirt for Hank and shorts and halter
top for Joanna and headed out on their run. They clicked off six-miles and
then headed into the weight room. After an hour and a half of steady lifting,
their muscles were sore.

Joanna summoned Anthony and Maria to give her and Hank a massage. Anthony
massaged Hank and Maria did Joanna. The massage was wonderful for their tired
muscles.

Hank was beginning to show more and more definition to his muscular frame. A
combination of eating right, daily runs and strenuous weight traning brought
out the best in his muscles. Joanna was more muscular than Hank and he knew
it. She didn't have to flex to have her muscles stand out. They were
constantly pumped.

They sat down to go over Hanks case files that Joanna had picked up at his
apartment. Hank started going through the box that contained the rapes that
had been happening in the neighborhood for over the last several weeks. Joanna
was going through the second box which contained open unsolved cases.

The first case file she picked up was for Eddy Roberts who was the burglar
that robbed Zoe and was found dead inside his apartment with his balls and
cock stuffed in his mouth. He had, according to the file, been savagely
beaten. A .22 registered to Eddy was fond near the body, its barrel bent in
half. 'Fortunately,' Joanna thought, 'I had the presence of mind to wipe the
fingerprints from it.' She had enjoyed working Eddy over. He was such a pussy
that it gave her satisfaction to break him.

The second case file was for one Joe Cahill. He was a handyman and part-time
carpet installer. He, like Eddy Roberts had met a brutal end with his cock and
scrotum missing. They both had a cut along their sternum from some sort of a
blade or knife, 'or fingernail' thought Joanna.

There didn't appear to be any connection between the two men, but they had
similar markings on the body and had met violent deaths. They were still
on-going homicide investigations.

The other case file was for one Irene Martin. Mrs. Martin apparently lost
control of her car on a mountain road and ran over the edge of the roadway.
There was no guard rail at the site of the wreck. This was not listed in the
police report as a homicide, but rather an accidental death. Joanna was
relieved to read this bit of information.

Mrs. Martin's husband, however, was at a loss to explain why his wife would
have been on that particular hillside road. He was campaigning for the police
to rule her death a homicide, but had no hard evidence to substantiate it.

Naturally there was no mention or file on Miguel, Eva's brother, because she
was the only relative that he had and she had not reported him missing. Miguel
was not a well liked individual and his disappearance upset no one.

She could have easily killed that peeping tom, Tim, but Hank was here that
evening. Killing a young man in front of a policeman, even if the cop was her
live in lover, would have been foolhearty and reckless, and Joanna was neither
foolhearty or reckless.

"There aren't a lot of unsolved murders here in Napa," Joanna said to Hank.
"No, thank goodness. We're not as big as Oakland or San Francisco," Hank
replied, "and I like it that way, but I would like to clear the open cases I
do have."

"What do you make of the rapes that I've been hearing about on the news?"
Joanna asked. "It's the department's belief that someone from outside the area
is commiting them," Hank said, "but we really have little to go on. The rapist
always wears a mask and latex gloves and his DNA isn't in the data base. He
brutally assaults his victims before and after raping them. We need to get
that guy off the street."

"Is there a common thread that links all the victims?" Joanna asked. "Well,
there are two things that sort of link the victims. First, all the victims are
blonde, but that's not surprising, rapists usually target similar types of
victims. The second common thread, if it is a common thread, is that all the
victims were downtown on Main Street the day of the attacks. Not in any one
shop or location, but on Main," Hank answered.

"That's interesting. I wonder if that's significant. I suppose you've thought
about a stakeout, right?" Joanna asked. "We have, and we're waiting to hear if
we can enlist the help of a female officer from the Bay Area. We don't have
any female officers on staff here." Hank said.

Joanna was already formulating a plan, but didn't want to let Hank in on it.
She needed to talk to Zoe to see if she could get her help in trying to lure
this creep into a trap. Zoe was blonde, attractive and her shop was near Main
Street.

She told Hank, "Let me know if there's anything I can do. Maybe I could be
your decoy." "Joanna," Hank laughed and said, "That rapist would take one look
at you and run the other way. You'd tear him apart, wouldn't you?" "You bet I
would," Joanna said, "you bet I would."

That evening, she went to Zoe's apartment and let her in on the plan. She
asked if Zoe would be up for being the bait. "If you think I can help,
Mistress, I'm more than happy to please you," Zoe said. "You wouldn't' be just
pleasing me, you'd be helping the community, so here's all you have to do.
Just walk a few blocks on Main Street. Dress nicely, which you always do and
put a little sway into your step, then just walk home," Joanna said. 'She
certainly made it sound simple', Zoe thought. "I'll be waiting here and I'll
spend the night. We'll have a little slumber party, Zoe," Joanna said.

How could Zoe refuse, "Alright," she said, "as long as you don't leave me.
I'll feel safe with you here, Mistress."

So the next day, Wednesday, Zoe went for a walk up one side of Main and down
the other. She walked four blocks up and four blocks back, turning off and
entering her apartment. Joanna was already inside, sitting in the dark. She
was dressed in a one-piece body clinging jumpsuit. The material clung to the
curves of her muscles, and was made of a substance that breathed allowing her
to wear it without sweating or discomfort, sort of like a second skin.

This scenario was repeated two other times. Finally, on Friday, as Joanna was
just about to call it a night, when she heard the scrape of a window being
slid open in the living room. A figure dressed entirely in black stepped
through the open window and slid the window closed behind them. He wasn't a
particularly big guy, maybe 5'-9" with a rather slender build. He had on a ski
mask, long sleeve sweater and latex gloves. This was undoubtedly the serial
rapist and she was thrilled that her trap had worked.

Joanna saw a glint of light bounce off the blade of a knife. She quietly got
to her feet. Zoe was asleep in her bedroom. Staying perfectly still, Joanna
waited for the intruder to walk by. He needed to pass her in order to get to
the bedroom.

As the figure was about to pass the alcove to the dining room where Joanna was
concealed, she stepped out and drove a punch into the intruders abdoman. He
doubled over trying to catch his breath. He was making a wheezing sound that
woke Zoe. Zoe came out of the bedroom with one hand to her mouth. "Mistress,
what is it, are you all right?" Zoe asked. "I'm fine, Zoe, it seems our friend
here took the bait and followed you home. I'll take it from here, dear. You
can go back to bed and rest easy that this fucker is off the street, thanks to
you." Joanna said. Zoe, who was naked, stared at her Mistress and the black
clad figure on all fours trying to catch his breath.

The man started to raise his right hand, the one in which he had the knife.
Zoe, let out a little scream, but Joanna was quick and batted the man on the
side of the head. He went back down on hands and knees, but still had the
knife in his hand. Joanna put her left foot on top of the man's hand. She was
wearing short black boots with her customary 3-inch heels. She shifted her
weight slightly and the man gasped.

She bent and picked up the knife that the man realeased, and took her boot off
his hand. He looked up at her from his position and she was tall, very tall,
and wide. She filled the doorway they were in. Joanna looked at the knife as
if studying a rare artifact. With just her thumb and forefinger, she snapped
the blade off at the handle. "You won't need this anymore, stud," Joanna said.
She held the two pieces of the knife out for Zoe to take. "Here, mouse, get
rid of this."

She reached down and grabbed the man by the collar of his sweater, holding him
with her left hand. With her right, she put it around Zoe, grasping her butt
and hugged the girl. She bent and kissed her full on the mouth, slipping her
tongue in and touching Zoe's tongue. When she pulled apart, she whispered to
Zoe, "You did well, mouse, go back to bed, I'll call you in a couple of days."
"Yes, Mistress," is all Zoe said, and turned and padded back to the bedroom.

"OK, stud, let's get out of here. We're going for a little ride," Joanna said
and hit the man square on the jaw. He was out in an instant. Joanna bent and
hoisted the man over her shoulder and let herself out of Zoe's apartment and
walked down the stairs. She tied the man up with ropes from the bed of the
truck and lashed him down so he wouldn't fall out.

She drove quickly but carefully home and pulled up next to the cave where wine
had once been stored and aged. She opened the steel door and entered with her
captive still unconcious. 'Gee, I hope I didn't damage him already,' Joanna
thought, 'I want to make this last. I want to enjoy this.' She retraced her
steps, locked the door and drove the truck back to the main house, then walked
back to the cave.

Once inside again, she noticed the man was starting to wake up. She fastened
his wrists with manacles to eye bolts in the ceiling of the cave. He came
fully awake and found himself staring at a 6'-6" Amazon. She was dressed as
he, all in black, but the material was glossy in appearance hugging the curves
and muscles of her body. She had on short black boots and stood with her hands
on her hips studying him. She looked self-confident to say the least. She had
short cropped blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Her lips were full and red
and he couldn't really read if it were a sneer or a smile.

"So, let's see who we have here," Joanna said and stepped forward and removed
his mask and tossed it aside. Joanna didn't recognize him at all. Perhaps Hank
was right, he wasn't from Napa. "What's your name, big boy?" she asked.

"My name is Paul, who are you?" he asked. "I'm Joanna, and you may call me
'Mistress Joanna' or 'goddess'. You've been bad, Paul, very bad, and I'm going
to have to punish you for ruining some womens lives. Do you understand?"
Joanna said. "I understand. Are you going to hand me over to the cops?" Paul
asked. 'Such a curious question' Joanna thought, 'why would I do that?' "Look,
Paul," Joanna said, "do you want me to hand you over to the cops?" "No, I want
you to let me go. I was just there to rob the place, but I wouldn't harm your
friend." Paul said.

"You know, Paul, I don't believe you, you had a knife. You were there to rape
my girlfriend and now you're going to pay for that. I'm not going to give you
to the police, because they would be too soft on you. And," Joanna said, "you
haven't shown the respect I demand by calling me 'Mistress', so you'll pay for
that."

Joanna punched him with a left cross to the ribs, breaking at least one. He
yelled, but didn't pass out. "That was for breaking in to my friends place.
This is for not showing me the respect I deserve," Joanna said and grabbed his
little finger on his left hand and snapped it like a twig. Again, Paul yelled.

"Where are you from, Paul?" Joanna asked. "I'm from San Francisco, why?" She
grabbed the ring finger of the left hand and snapped it. Paul let out a
scream. "You didn't address me properly, Paul, you are slow on the uptake,
aren't you?" Joanna asked. "Yes, Mistress," Paul said. Joanna smiled, "That's
much better. Now Paul, tell me why you raped those women." "Because I could,"
he said. "Just that simple, Paul? Because you could," Joanna asked. "Yeah,
pretty much," he said.

Joanna took Paul's middle finger on the left hand, but did nothing. The terror
in the man's eyes gave her a rush. He was beginning to sweat. She finally
snapped it and smiled broadly. "I love doing this. I love the fact that you
disrespect me and give me cause to punish you." "Why are you doing this to me,
Mistress, why?" Paul asked. Joanna continued to smile, "Because I can. Because
you are a weak, poor excuse for a man." Joanna said.

Joanna reached down and stroked Paul's cock through his black chinos. She
could tell he was getting an erection. "So you like that Paul? Do you like
big, strong, muscular women, Paul? Do I turn you on? Do you want to rape me?"
Joanna said, "You can't you know. You're not man enough," she taunted. "Look
at this, little man," Joanna said and did a bicep flex. Her bicep grew, the
material of her sleeve taut, flexed with the muscle. She held her bicep about
six-inches in front of him. "Kiss it, Paul, make love to my muscles." Joanna
said. He leaned forward and kissed her bicep. "That's a good boy. Do you want
more?" she asked. Joanna felt herself becoming aroused. Not by Paul, but by
the thought of her own muscles and the power she had over this worm.

She did a few poses for her captive audience. Double bicep pose, flexing her
thigh muscles, turning to show him her muscular back and a wide lat spread.
When she turned back to face him, she pulled the zipper down on the jumpsuit.
"I bet you want to see more, don't you, Paul?" Joanna asked. "Yes, Mistress,"
Paul said. Joanna smiled, she only broke 3 fingers and a couple of ribs and
he's picked up on his submissive role.

She kicked off her boots and unzipped her jumpsuit entirely. She peeled the
fabric from her body like peeling a second skin. She now stood before him
naked. She continued to hit a few poses and turned back to him and asked, "Do
you like what you see?" "Very much so, yes, Mistress" Paul said. "Let's see
what you have," Joanna said and stepped forward and ripped the sweater from
his torso. She undid his belt and worked his pants down and off. He was now
standing there with his arms still shackled to the ceiling with only his
boxers on. Joanna simpley ripped those off his hips revealing a fully erect
6-inch penis.

"Not much to work with," she said, taking his member between her thumb and
index finger and giving it a couple of strokes. "I think I could get a hard on
that big," she commented. Joanna went to the cabinet against the wall and got
the jar of enlargement cream. She gently massaged some of the cream into her
labia. Soon her female member was a good 6-inch of firmness. "Well, look at
that, Paul, what do you think, ever been fucked by a woman?" she asked.

Joanna went behind the man and with one hand guided her member to his ass. She
thrust a few times and finally penetrated him. Paul let out one gasp with each
thrust. "Are you enjoying this? I am," Joanna said, "now you know what those
women you raped felt like, being violated." She continued to thrust and
finally climaxed, filling his anus with her juices.

"I'm going to unshackle you, Paul, because you need to tongue me, do you
undersatnd?" Joanna said. Paul looked like he was in a daze. Joanna unlocked
the manacles and he almost fell to the floor. "While you're on your knees
there, get busy sucking me off. I want to come in that shit-hole of a mouth of
yours." Joanna said.

Paul did as instructed. He set about nibbling and sucking her womanhood.
Joanna watched him all the while stroking her muscles and running her hands
over her rock hard abs. She climaxed with a fury. To his credit, Paul drank it
all. "That's good, sissy boy, now I want you to lick my feet." "Yes,
Mistress," he responded. Joanna half sat, half leaned against a desk while
Paul sucked and licked her toes.

"You know, little man, I want to show you something. I want to show you just
how strong I am. Would you like to see that?" Joanna asked. "Yes, mistress,"
answered Paul. She retrieved a metal bar from the corner and stood over him
and with little effort, bent it in half. She then bent it in such a way as
that there was a full loop in the middle of the bar. She dropped it on the
floor in front of her slave. She then went to the wall and put her big arms
around a 4-drawer file cabinet. She lifted it and hugged it. There was the
crying sound of metal being crushed and she litterally compacted it into about
an 8-inch round piece of scrap metal. Drawers, frame and sheet metal, all
crumpled. "Ahh, that feels so good to bend or destroy somethig" Joanna
commented.

"Stand up, Paul" she commanded. Reluctantly he got to his feet. "Come here,"
she said, and as if in slow motion, the man walked toward her. Joanna had a
wicked smile on her face. "Lay on the floor, Paul, on your back. You're going
to enjoy this little show," she said. He lay at her feet. She straddled him
and squatted. She lowered herself over his cock. As she did, she said, "Don't
you dare come, you piss-ant." She then stood up with the man held between her
massive legs only by his cock. Paul was painfully suspended there, but then he
noticed that she had amazing muscle control because she was 'milking' his
dick. He couldn't contain himself and eventually came.

"You son of a bitch," Joanna said, "I told you not to come." And she relaxed
her vaginal muscles letting Paul to fall to the floor on his back. She had a
foot on either side of his head and said, "Now you're going to have to clean
my pussy and get all that cum out of there. I want you to swallow it all too,
do you understand?" She squatted above his face and he got busy with his
tongue. Her vagina pushed the cum out and he lapped greedily.

"I thought you were becoming a good slave, but you just had to fuck it up and
have an orgasm." Joanna said. "I'm sorry, Mistress, please forgive me," Paul
said. Joanna lifted him off the floor and pinned him to her chest with one
arm. With her free hand she reached around and grabbed his scrotum and cock.
"Please, Mistress," he was begging, "don't hurt me." Joanna didn't respond
except to gently squeeze his manhood. It was as if he had it locked in a vise.
As she squeezed, he eventually cried out. Tears ran down his cheek. With the
arm that encircled him, she squeezed and was pleased to hear anoth couple of
ribs give way. "You pathetic piece of shit," Joanna whispered in his ear, "I
don't know why I've wasted my time with the likes of you."

She threw him on the floor. She grabbed his, as yet, uninjured right hand,
holding it by the wrist. She put one barefoot on his right lat and pulled,
dislocating the right shoulder. Paul thought he'd pass out from the pain.
Joanna got on the floor and slipped one beefy leg under the man and crossed
her legs at the ankles and began to squeeze. Several more ribs snapped and it
was now becoming hard for Paul to breathe without pain.

She next slipped her leg from under him and sat straddling his face. "Time for
a little sleep, asshole," Joanna said and lowered her pussy over his nose and
mouth. He began to thrash around, but was held tight by the Amazon. Soon, his
movement slowed and he passed out from the oxygen deprivation. Joanna couldn't
resist grinding her cunt into the man's jaw and mouth. Bones and teeth
shattered, but the feeling to her was pure extacy.

'He's not a 'pretty boy' any more,' thought Joanna as she put her skin-tight
jumpsuit back on and slipped her feet into her boots. 'Looks like I've got to
take the garbage out once again.' Joanna went to the computer in the cave and
booted up the Word progam. She typed the note and pinned it to Paul's sweater.
She put the shreded sweater back on the body and threw the unconcious or dead
man over her shoulder. It was now quite late and she carried him back to where
she had parked the truck. She tossed him into the bed of the truck, and
proceeded to get in and drive to a freeway overpass that she knew didn't have
a chain link fence along its handrail.

She parked the truck and got the body from the bed and threw it over the
handrail. It hit with a sickening thud on the pavement below. At this time of
night, traffic was pretty light, but it wasn t too long before she saw what
she had hoped to see, a big rig with trailer in tow. The truck didn't slow as
it neared the body. The driver didn't see the lump on the pavement until it
was too late.

What was that he hit, the driver wondered and pulled to the side of the
freeway. Meanwhile, Joanna got back in the truck and drove home. She was
content. That had gone pretty much to plan. She quickly undressed and climbed
into bed next to Hank. He stirred as she cuddled next to him in a 'spoon'
position and he slid a hand over her ribs and rested it on her abs.

The next day, Joanna was still asleep when Hank left for the office. Being a
detective he didn't work a normal 8 to 5 job and the fact that this was the
weekend didn't really matter. When he got to the police station, he was
informed that there was a homicide or suicide the night before. The night
medical examiner had responded to it as it looked pretty routine. He went to
the ME's office which was in the same building as the police.

The badly battered body was that of Paul Gibson, 27, from San Francisco. He
had been hit and run over by a big rig out on the interstate. He had multiple
contussions and broken bones consistant with getting hit by a truck and was
pretty messed up to put it in layman's terms. What was unusual, however, was
the suicide note that the ME had found pinned to the dead man's sweater. Hank
held the note which was now in a plastic evidence envelope and read it:

'I'm sorry I raped so many women. I've had a miserable life and just can't
live like this anymore. Please forgive me,' and it was signed 'Paul'. It was
typed without a penned signature, but Hank figured this was the rapist they've
been looking for. DNA would confirm it, he suspected, so he would have to wait
to close the case.

'How often did this happen?' Hank wondered. He and Joanna had just gone over
the case files a few nights ago. 'I'm happy with the outcome,' Hank thought,
'but I know Joanna will be disappointed. She wanted to see the guy suffer.
Well, we can't always get what we wish for.'

That night at dinner, Hank told Joanna, Maria and Anthony the good news. The
serial rapist was dead. DNA would confirm it, but he was reasonably certain
that this was their man. "Thank God," Maria said, "now I can sleep better."
"I'm glad it's finally over, Master Hank, I never understood why some people
prey upon others," Anthony said. "I'm glad it's over too," Joanna said, "now
maybe life will get back to normal around here."

Later that night as Hank and Joanna lay in bed, Hank said, "I know you were
serious about catching that rapist yourself, but I'm glad it turned out the
way it did. Saved us all some grief and the courts some money." Joanna smiled
inwardly and said, "Oh, I think he got all that was coming to him. What goes
around comes around."

Joanna rested easy knowing that she rid the community of a sexual preditor,
after all, there was only room for one sexual preditor in this jungle and it
was the muscle goddess, Joanna!