Worship Me Part 33
By Muscle Fan, covert.1@hotmail.com



Chapter 119

I told Margo about joining 'Sheila's Gym' and how I loved the muscle I was
adding on to my frame. I told her about Sheila's supplements and even went on
to tell her about Roger being the nephew of the deceased Sheila.

Margo had set aside her pad and pens in lieu of a small tape recorder. I
probably rambled, but I told Margo everything, although I spared her the gory
details about my 'kills'. "I feel a sense of control, power, dominance," I
said, "when I'm destroying a weak individual. It's a rush, a high, and like
you said, a form of sexual release." "Go on," Margo said. "The more I punish
these people the more heightened my desire is. I have multiple orgasms,
usually with my victims, but I feel like they enjoy being controlled, even as
I snuff out their life."

"And do you feel this is wrong, Jane," Margo asked. "What, wrong to feel
sexually aroused or to take their life?" I asked. "Both," she said. I
considered what she asked for a moment, then replied, "No to both, I guess;
when I'm breaking the person, they are no longer an individual but only a tool
that I can use to get myself 'off'. As to taking their life, they're worthless
scum for the most part or part of the collateral damage to get to the person
that needs killing."

I felt nearly drained when I finished talking. "And what about sex, Jane, when
you're not breaking a person," Margo asked, "You haven't really told me about
that." "I love sex," I said, "men or women; however, my men have to be well
endowed. I can't seem to be satisfied with an ordinary man and I want them to
be free of all that hair that men come with, but that's the same for my women.
But what really turns me on is to have my partner or partners worship my
muscles as I flex for them and make my muscles dance."

"Hmm," Margo said, "I see," and she jotted more notes. Then switching off the
tape recorder, checked her watch and said, "We've been at this for several
hours. Jane, I want you to come back. We still have a ways to go, will you do
that?" "Yes, I'll give your receptionist a call in a few days," I said, and I
left.

The outer office was dimly lit, the receptionist having gone home for the day.
I felt drained as I walked to my car, but my mind was racing going back over
what I had told her.

Chapter 120

I had parked in a small lot behind Margo's office building. The sun had gone
down and as I left the street and entered the alley leading to the parking
lot, I became aware that I was not alone.

"Hey, lady, don't make a sound and you won't get hurt," the man said as he
snaked his arm around my waist while holding a knife to my neck. "Just drop
your purse and car keys and I'll be on my way."

I froze. He certainly had the 'drop' on me, but he had no idea who I was, but
would find out shortly. "Please, don't hurt me," I said, "Here take my purse,"
and held it at arm's length out from my body. I knew he had to take the knife
away from my neck to reach for the handbag. As soon as he did that, I pivoted
and drove my right knee into his groin.

The man doubled over, dropping the knife and clutching his crotch. I stood
with feet apart and my hands on my hips looking down at him as he tried to
stand upright. "Oh, poor baby, did Jane hurt the little man," I taunted. I
grabbed a handful of thick black hair and pulled his head up and slapped him
open handed across the left cheek, then backhanded him with my right. "Lady,
stop," he said, and I slapped him one more time in the same manner.

Still holding a handful of his hair in my left, I gave the man a short, but
powerful jab in the midsection. This drove the air from him and as I let go of
his hair, he doubled over once more. Unable to speak, I grabbed him by the
throat and lifted and pinned him to the wall of the building. His feet were
off the ground by four or five inches. He kicked his legs trying to find some
ground beneath him, but I held him effortlessly.

He had nearly passed out and it would have been easy for me just to hold him
there, but I wanted him to feel a little more pain. I allowed him to drop to
the ground and while he had one hand massaging his throat, I took my boot and
with the stiletto heel, impaled his left hand, pinning him to the asphalt. If
his throat had been in good working order, I'm sure he would have yelled, but
as it was, he let out a loud croaking noise.

Removing my boot from his hand, I knelt beside him and said, "You picked the
wrong woman to mess with, you wimp," and I gave him a right to the jaw,
shattering it and knocking him out. I then lifted the unconscious man up and
with his back to my front, wrapped my arms around him and began to squeeze,
cracking his ribs and doing unknown damage to his internal organs.

Chapter 121

"So, this is how you do it," a voice said from the shadows. I dropped the man
and turned in the direction from which the voice had come from. As she stepped
from the shadows, I saw it was Margo. "Yes," I said, "however I vary it each
time. He attacked me, you know." "I know," she said, "I was here, watching."

"So are you going to call the cops," I asked. "No," she said, "you were
defending yourself, although that man," and she motioned to the prone figure,
"didn't stand a chance." "They never do," I said. "So what now," Margo asked.
"Now I'd just throw him in the dumpster with the rest of the garbage," I told
her.

Margo walked over and raised the lid on the dumpster as I picked the body up
and tossed him in as anyone would toss in a bag of trash.

"You really are amazing," Margo said. "In what way," I asked. "In the way you
move, almost cat-like, and strong, so strong," she said, "and totally detached
with the emotional baggage of remorse."

I put a hand around her and pulled her close and gave her a long, passionate
kiss on the lips, allowing my tongue to wander about her mouth. When we broke
the kiss, I said, "I'm sorry, that probably violated our doctor/patient pact,
but I think you understand me." "Perhaps I do, Jane," Margo said, "and admire
you too. In a sense, you're the opposite of me, making your own rules as you
see fit. Call me when you have time to talk again." She pressed the alarm
button on her key ring, unlocked her car and drove off.

I drove home and not yet tired, worked out for a couple hours teasing and
working my muscles.

Chapter 122

The following day I accompanied John to a meeting downtown. It was in a high
rise office building and he said once we were in the lobby that I needn't
stick around, that he'd call me on my cell when he was done.

Now with perhaps several hours to kill, I wasn't sure what to do. As I was
turning to exit the building, a familiar face exited one of the elevators.
"Todd," I said, "Todd Johnson." The man looked at me, then a sense of
recognition crossed his face and he said, "Jane is that you, my God, I didn't
recognize you."

'Indeed,' I thought, 'when Todd and I dated years ago, I had been the 'plain
Jane', certainly not the muscle goddess he was looking at now.' "Yup," I said,
"it's me, and how have you been Todd?" "I've been fine," he said, "I just work
upstairs, but on my way out to visit a client. What about you, you look, well,
different," and he blushed, "that didn't come out right, I meant you look
great."

We stepped out of the mainstream foot traffic into a small alcove.

"Thanks," I said, "I feel great and I know I'm different than when we were
dating. I'm no longer the plain Jane I was back then." "I'll say," Todd said.
Todd was about 5'-9" with a medium build. As I remember he had a medium size
cock as well. "Are you married," I asked. "No, I was engaged for a time, but
that didn't work out. I'm not married," he said, "what about you?" I chuckled,
"No, still single, although I am seeing someone." "Lucky guy," Todd said, and
I glanced down and saw a bulge in his pants.

I smiled and said, "Yes, he is lucky. He's in to muscles and I love showing
mine off." I thought I'd tease Todd a bit. "You look like you've been lifting
for a while," Todd said. "I can out lift any woman and I'm pretty sure most
men, Todd," I said, "it's a pity you don't have any time, I'd love to show you
my muscles." Todd inadvertently licked his lips and began shifting his weight
from one foot to the other.

"I'd love to see your muscles, Jane," he said, glancing at his watch, "I guess
I have a few minutes." "I'm afraid I'd need more than a few minutes, Todd," I
said, "Once these babies get started," and I put one leg in front of me and
jiggled my quad, then tensed it and the muscles swelled, "they want to put on
a show of their own." I thought Todd's eyes would fall out as he looked at my
bare leg, the striations of my quads and the thick veins. "Feel it, Todd," I
said softly, "Run your hand over my rock hard thigh." He hadn't taken his eyes
off my leg and reached out and traced a large vein with a fingertip.

"Can you imagine what I could do to you with my legs alone, Todd?" I asked,
and he gulped. "I could squeeze you to death. I could crush you. I'm getting
hot just thinking about it, Todd." Still he had not taken his eyes off my leg.
"Come for me Todd, show Jane that you want her muscles," I said, "let me see
you cream your pants," "Wh-what?" he croaked, as he looked into my eyes.
"Worship me, Todd, Mistress Jane wants you to come," and as I said this, a wet
spot slowly emerged across his crotch. "That's a good boy," I said, and
relaxed my muscular thigh.

Todd, now looked around embarrassed, and I said, "I hope you have a change of
trousers for your meeting, Todd, it looks like you had an accident." "Uh, err,
I have to be going, Jane," he said and made a dash for the elevators, the
front of his pants soaked with his cum. He held his attach' case in front of
his pants. I could hardly contain myself from laughing out loud. 'Poor Todd,'
I thought, 'he always was a little quick on the trigger.' And as he waited for
the elevator, I called out, "Thanks for coming, Todd," and gave a little wave.

As I turned to leave, I thought, 'I wonder what Dr. Turner would think of
this.'

Chapter 123

I exited the office building and rather than driving anywhere, I walked down
the street. With my short leather skirt and fitted jacket, broad shoulders and
muscular calves, people parted as I strode down the sidewalk. It helps when
you're 6'-5" and wearing 3-inch heels. Passing men and some women turned to
give me a second look. I could feel their stares and I reveled in it.

I entered a small antique shop that was tucked away between a boutique and
caf'. "Good morning," a tall blonde woman said as the bell above the door rang
announcing my entrance. "Good morning," I said in reply. "Are you looking for
anything special," she asked. "No," I said, "just browsing." "Well, let me
know if I can be of help," she said.

The shop contained many odds and ends; an old time sewing machine, a Tiffany
lamp, a child's rocking chair, and various old bottles, books and license
plates. An oak display case held smaller objects; pocket watches, several
straight razors, a handful of old comic books and several photographs. One
photo in particular caught my attention.

"Excuse me," I said to the sales girl who was busy folding some lace napkins,
"may I see this photo." "Certainly," she said and opened the display case and
took out the plastic sleeve that contained the photograph. "That's Charles
Lindberg, I believe, but I'm not sure who the woman is," she said. "That's
Sheila Parker," I said, recognizing her instantly. She looked the same as in
the photo that Roger had shown me; however, Lindberg looked a lot younger.

"Did you know her," the sales girl asked. "Yes, I did. She's gone now, but I
know her nephew quite well," I said, "I must have it." "Certainly," she said,
"I can let you have it for twenty dollars, is that all right." "Well," I said,
looking her straight in the eye, "if that's the best you can do." She smiled
and I reached behind her and brought her body close to mine.