The Artiste
by GJ



Dear Readers: This is purely a work of fiction and any locations or people
living or dead mentioned herein are purely coincidental.

Marie Girard was a very famous artiste. Her paintings always sold well, and
her business acumen made her lots of money. In addition to this creative
talent, Marie was a famous bodybuilder, boxer and martial artiste who competed
and won against all takers, including the men. She stood 5'11, a shade under
six feet. She weighed a solid 184 lbs, all muscle with a bf of 6%. Her stats
were 19" guns, 24" waist, 32"quads and a 46" chest. Her lat spread was 48" as
well. So are you hard yet, dear reader, just thinking about this amazing
woman? I am, as I pen this story.

I had become a big fan of her’s ever since I saw her work in a private
showing, in a fancy gallery on W 57th St. I saved up for a year to buy a
painting of hers. It was an abstract done in warm reds, yellows, browns, etc.
It hung in my living room and I often sat there drinking a brandy and looking
at it.

In addition, I did research on this Amazon Artiste, by googling her and found
out that she had fought 75 men and won every fight by knockout. Each opponent
needed extensive reconstruction surgery after their respective matches. She
has a whole wing in the local hospital named after her as tribute to that
fact. I think it was located on the east side in the 60's, if I am not
mistaken.

I had read that Marie was having another show in a gallery in Soho that
afternoon, and I intended to be there. Dressing carefully in my best suit, I
headed downtown to the opening. I had to admit I looked good. I stand 6 feet
and weigh a very lean 165 lbs. I wanted to make a good impression. After all I
often wanked thinking about her, and gazing longingly at her picture from the
internet.

A short, but congested subway ride later, I stood outside the Gallery. I was
early and as I peered inside, OH MY..... there she was. She was wearing a no
sleeve t shirt in aqua. In addition she had on a navy blue skirt and very high
heeled shoes, also in a dark blue color. God, I had such a hard on as I saw
all that muscle. In addition, her beautiful face was framed with curled
shaggy-cut hair. I wasn’t even shocked to note that tufts of hair hung down
from her armpits, for after all she was a natural woman all the way.

Taking a deep breath, I found the nerve to go over to my vision of muscle and
beauty. As I stood there looking up into her eyes, using my own to focus on
every hard, peaked muscle group, I could feel my stiff cock begin to ooze
precum. With an amazed look she took my hand and shook it. Well, it was more
than a shake it for her grip was so strong I could feel a little tiny bone in
my hand break. I was so turned on by this that I never cared.

I managed to speak finally. "It is a pleasure Ms Girard, I have been a big fan
of yours and followed everything that you have done."She looked into my eyes,
as if judging me. "So you have? Everything!", she smirked. By now I was so
gone that her words were a mismosh to me. "Yes", I think I said, not really
sure at all. By now the sticky precum had branched out to some serious goo, as
it thickly moved down my shorts.

Adjusting a wispy curl around her eye, Marie flexed one huge arm. I could see
sweat running down in buckets. I wanted to drink it in, to taste its liquid
saltiness. That arm was so big and vascular that I HAD TO FOCUS WITH EVERY
OUNCE OF CONCENTRATION I POSSESSED. Marie noted everything, for as an artiste,
she was a keen observer of all things. This included my state of lust. She
patted my cheek softly and said, "You are very cute, how about you meet me
after the opening. I live only 4 blocks away on Broome St. I will give you a
private tour of my loft studio and let you in on my creative techniques." I
think I remember saying, "That would be a pleasure", as I walked away in a
fog.

Two hours later I found myself in Marie’s loft apartment. She was changing
into, ahem.....something more comfortable, so I advantage of the time to check
out the vast living/working quarters. It was divided into a large work area,
kitchen, gym and bedroom. Off to the side were a sauna, a lap pool, and a
master bathroom. I walked over to the gym and noted weights that totaled many
thousands of pounds. In addition there was a heavy bag and next to it, a speed
bag as well. So this was where she honed her huge, incredible body. Oh, I
forgot to mention, in a corner was a mechanical man with lights strategically
located in the facial, chest, stomach and other areas.

Suddenly I felt a wind, and as I turned there SHE was. She had on biker shorts
that hugged every curve of her hard, perfectly shaped ass. She had on another
muscle shirt, which exposed those dynamite arms, including her hair armpits.
Thankfully, the heat was turned up to ward off the very cold Canadian winds
that made the City like an iceberg. This also made Marie sweat profusely and I
smelled her underarms and saw sweat dripping from her matted hair that hung
down below her guns. She walked over to the mechanical man and punched it in
the face, half- heartily. Immediately, lights began to flash and the readout
indicated that she had exerted 150lbs of pressure per square inch. She smiled.
Satisfied.

"So, I see you like my arms. Come here and I will give you a personal tour",
but only if you are a very good boy", she teased. I sprinted there quickly and
saw Marie make a fist and slowly, agonizingly slowly, flex. Marie nodded once
and as if by some telepathy, I tried to wrap my two hands around it. It was no
go but her arm was like corded steel with rivers of veins running through it.
My mouth went to that arm and I licked and sucked on it. I ended up drinking
the salty sweat from under her arm. Soon I repeated the process with the other
mammoth arm. I was dizzy with muscle lust.

"Nice little boy, do you want momma to flex those arms around your jaw?" Did I
hear right, dear reader or am I hallucinating? I shook my head in the
affirmative as Marie slowly raised her left arm and put it around my head,
encircling my jaw line. I felt like a nut in a nutcracker as she began to flex
it UP and DOWN....UP and DOWN. Soon I could feel red liquid ooze out of my
mouth and run down her beefy arm. It was my blood, of course. I could actually
feel my jaw dislocate from its hinge as Marie switched arms and popped it back
into place with her right one. "Sleep now, my baby and with that she squeezed
harder. Then she let my head go and I crumpled to the hardwood floor, out
cold.

Ninety minutes later I awoke. I was sitting in a swivel chair. A thin ooze of
blood was running down my face."Oh hello, my sleeping beauty, time for my
secret to be revealed ...........how I create my masterpieces." I sat up
feeling the cum sticking to my pants. Apparently I had ejaculated as she reset
my jaw with that big muscle." Listen carefully wimp because you will be a big
part of the creative process."

Waiting patiently like a dog for his Mistress, I listened. Marie explained
that an artiste is only as good as her tools. With that she raised her huge
fists in front of my face and explained that these killers were her tools.
"Kiss them and I will immortalize you forever, my little man." I kissed each
big knuckle and sucked on them for good measure. Each one was as big as 4
inches across. I could taste their hardness, their saltiness and sensed now
what was coming. Have you done that yet dear reader, figured it out?

Marie continued slowly as if she were talking to a low functioning idiot. But,
she wasn’t far off, for she had reduced me to just that. "You have seen these
tools, and over there against the wall is the blank canvas. All we need now is
the artiste’s pallet and you wimp boy will be just that." "OHHH MY GODDDDDD,
this was going to hurt", I was sure of that.

Marie adjusted the chair of a maximum arc and raised my jaw. Her balled huge
fist came crashing into my mouth. Her punch was so powerful that it spun me
around. In addition a flume of blood, teeth and oral juices splashed on the
canvas in a very creative pattern. Marie had this down to a science after all.
Crackkkkkkkkkkk! Her fist hit my jaw on the right side now propelling my jaw
juice, teeth fragments, saliva and assorted other liquids into the canvas
making more of the negative space of the canvas stand out in bas relief.

Marie walked over to it, looked at her fists and checked me. I was out cold.
"Wakey, wakey, momma needs more red and yellow in the corner there."She
slapped me awake careful not to waste any of my exploding, raw body colors. I
came to and looked into her eyes. Marie smiled at me and punched me dead in
the nose, splattering deep red, mucous- yellow, and something dark as well, in
the exact spot she wanted. We could both hear the Splattttttttt, as it landed.

My face itself, now resembled a rotted pizza. Still there was more color to be
extracted, as Marie broke my jaw on the left and right side by hitting both
areas simultaneously with both fists. Jaw fragments, a milky substance and
liquified teeth fragments overlaid the canvas perfectly. Marie continued for
about an hour more until there was nothing left in me. She had broken every
bone in my body by then. She even removed my pants and as she hit me my
unconscious body twitched out gallons of cum all over the canvas in just the
right places. I finally crumpled to the floor, basically a bag of bones. Marie
got a large broom and waste pan and picked me up and , as I oozed into the
triple protected garbage bag, Marie knew that I had been a big part in
creating her finest, most precious masterpiece. After all......SHE WAS THE
ARTISTE!