Heathers Mettle (Deidre Part 5) – Bubba Wubba
After flexing her
biceps several times at the mirror, Heather challenged Deidre to an arm
wrestling match. Surprised, Deidre finished her reps with the barbell
curls and racked the bar.
“You got it!” she said.
The rest of the girls
in the gym gathered around the two women. While all of them were
physically fit and attractive, only Deidre and Heather were muscular.
Heather was built like a brick wall with large breasts and a bubble butt.
Her leg muscles were huge and round, as were her shoulders and arms.
Deidre was the more voluptuously muscled woman, with sexy muscular
contours. She had also demonstrated in the past that she was stronger
than Heather, who was 4 years younger than Deidre, at 18 years old.
“Be careful,” she lightheartedly warned Heather. “I just might break
your arm off.”
The two friends smiled
and squared off at a standing table. The rest of the girls chatted about
and wondered who was going to win this match up: Heather, with her round biceps
like two huge snowballs packed to her arms; or Deidre whose biceps were more
like footballs chiseled out of granite and wrapped in
shiny plastic. They locked their hands at the table and waited for
someone to signal the start of the match.
“3-2-1-GO!” shouted
Linda and eagerly watched the two powerful arms pump, flex and striate with
furious abandon. Their back muscles popped up and rolled over their
shoulder blades as the veins pulsed from their necks. But Deidre was just
that much bigger and unlike Heather, had no look of desperation on her
face. Smiling, Deidre slowly pressed Heather’s hand down. Her arm
shook as she worked against the momentum. Deidre paused momentarily,
looked at the crowd and slammed Heather’s hand down. Deidre won
again and flexed her bicep for the other women to admire and feel.
Heather was a good sport about it and told Deidre: “Next time.”
As the girls dispersed
to go back to their workout routines, Heather noticed Ms. Gibson on the weight
bench with a concerned look on her face.
“What’s buggin’ ya?” Heather inquired.
Pausing for words at
first, Ms. Gibson began to tell her about her friend’s daughter. Several
months ago, while leaving her Catholic high school, Penny was met outside by a
strange man. He quickly showed her a badge and identified himself as an
undercover officer. After gently taking her arm, he calmly told her that
at
“Bring Penny in,”
Heather suggested. “I’m closer in age to her. Maybe I can relate.”
“I don’t know,” said
Ms. Gibson. “She’s being pretty resistant.”
Several days later,
Ms. Gibson convinced her friend to bring Penny down to the gym for a
while. Penny agreed, albeit reluctantly. But she went to the gym
with only Heather there. Penny was immediately taken in by her, admiring
her physique and telling her she was so beautiful. Heather blushed at
first and then began talking about the different responses she gets from men.
They talked for hours
about a variety of topics dealing with their bodies and relationships.
But most importantly, Heather got Penny to open up about the incident that
happened to her and to talk about it. She told Penny that the longer she
held it in, the more serious the psychological damage will be to
her. Penny said she didn’t know the man’s name but could tell where
he lived. She also offered up her clothing for a DNA sample.
Heather was upfront and honest about letting her mother’s friend handle the
situation. The one stipulation was that the police don’t handle it.
A week later, Ms.
Gibson was able to match the DNA sample of the semen stains on her clothing to
samples taken from the trash around the man’s house, for a positive
match. After describing the man to Heather, Ms. Gibson went out and took
surveillance photos of all the men outside the school after classes.
Penny identified one of the men in the photos and Ms. Gibson followed him back
to his home one afternoon, which is the same home Penny identified. His
name was Charlie Wrangler. Ms. Gibson found that he was also a client for
a few of the escort services in the city. In interviews with some of the
escorts, she found what Charlie’s habits and sexual preferences were. She
wasn’t surprised to find that he preferred younger girls dressed in schoolgirl
outfits. Although it wasn’t an official criminal investigation, several
of the escort services agreed to notify Ms. Gibson if Charlie called
again. Several days later, he did call and requested an 18 year old,
which was the youngest legal age he could request, and wearing schoolgirl’s
clothing.
A plan was set in
motion and within a few hours, Heather was at his door, ringing the bell.
She wore sunglasses and a long leather coat. Charlie opened the door and
kindly asked her to come in. She was a bit surprised at how small and
quiet he was. He wasn’t more than 5’5” and 130 lbs. Heather weighed about
the same but was a few inches taller than him. Without looking her in the
eye, he dutifully handed her a few hundred dollars in cash, which she stashed
away in her coat pocket. He sat down in an easy chair about 10 feet away
and watched her, with his head cocked to one side. She couldn’t believe
this quiet impish man was the one who raped Penny. But then she heard him
speak.
“Take off your jacket,
ma’am,” he ordered, confidently. “Hang it on the coat hook behind the
door and do a few turns for me.”
Heather paused and
looked at him, a bit insolently. She was surprised at how his tone
contrasted with his demeanor. Holding his eyes
to hers, she quickly shrugged her shoulders and dropped the coat behind her,
catching it in her hands. Charlie gasped and raised his feet onto the
seat of the chair he was sitting on. Heather wore a white button down
shirt that was knotted above her rock hard abdomen and unbuttoned down her
cleavage. Her plaid school girl skirt ended just below her crotch line
while her white socks were pulled up to her knees and she wore saddle
shoes. The socks and short skirt made her muscular legs look even more
pronounced and rock solid.
“I’ve never seen you
before,” he said. “Are you sure you’re at the right place?”
Heather looked
seductively at him. “Is your name Charlie?”
“Yes,” he answered
nervously.
“Then I’m in the right
place,” she said. “With the right guy.”
Heather slowly
strolled over to him and, gripping his shirt in her powerful hands, hoisted him
over one foot off the ground. Intense muscles popped off her back and
arms as she steadily suspended him in the air. Once she was satisfied
with her rugged show of strength, she slowly eased him down to the floor with
total control over his body. As his feet touched, he breathed a sigh of relief
as he felt his weight come back. But before he could brace himself, she
pumped a furiously fast upper cut with her kneecap into his groin. His
body jerked a good two feet in the air this time, as he let out a scream before
crashing back down to the floor. He feverishly clutched his groin and
contorted his face in the utmost pain. She calmly stood next to his
writhing, wounded body. Heather was not done with him.
Once his agony became
a little more bearable, she managed to grab his left arm, twist it behind his
back and again, lift him off the ground. The weight of his entire body
was suddenly on the contorted limb of his left shoulder. His back to her,
she continued lifting him with both her hands on his forearm. Then she
dropped her shoulders and slapped him onto the wooden floor, back first.
Heather grabbed his left arm, now broken, and proceeded to twist it slowly in
another unnatural direction. Charlie was on his knees, at her feet,
bending to ease the enormous pain rushing through his body. But she did
not relent.
Her forearms were like
wrought iron pipes; her biceps like grapefruits. And her triceps were
rigid and cut like hot horseshoes burning through her flesh. Her ribcage
expanded slowly over her cobblestone abs as she continuously and deliberately
applied more and more pressure. He was screaming helplessly and loudly
now as they both heard his arm tendons popping and the stringed muscles
tearing. His mouth was wide open with anguish as he faced her brute
cannon-like thighs. Suddenly he heard a few snaps and an enormous CRACK
as his arm broke in another place and the bones splintered out from the
skin. He began to bleed and was frozen in shock. She let go of his
arm and it dropped limply to the side like it was no longer attached to him.
His shoulder drooped far down as the palms of his hands were faced against his
body, although his arm had been completely twisted 180 degrees at the elbow and
joint. His limb began to turn purple.
Heather grabbed one of
his feet in one of her hands and briefly lifted him off the ground again.
After she set him on his back with his leg still raised, she wrapped her leg
around his, with her kneecap facing the side of his knee. She held the
bottom part of his leg around her thick thigh. Holding his leg-wrapped
foot in her hand, she slowly squatted down. As her leg muscles bulged and
became more defined, his leg bent sideways at the knee and cracked
noisily. His bones pierced through his skin and squirted blood
everywhere. He let out a long howling cry and begged her to kill
him.
She stood up and over
him, casually looking down at his broken body. Amidst his howling, he
looked up into her icy hazel eyes. She narrowed them and slowly inhaled,
increasing her body’s mass. After exhaling, she took a deeper breath and
grew even bigger. The third time she inhaled, she raised her arms to her
side, exposing all her stomach muscles. Her fists clenched and she pumped
her arms forward, displaying the magnitude of her muscular arms. She
brought her arms back, raised them up and flexed two huge biceps. In
total fright, he stared first at her eyes, which were wide and combative.
Her white teeth snarled a threatening growl as he felt his pants wet with
urine. His eyes followed the thick veins in her neck all the way down to
her trapezoid muscles and over her breasts, which were as big as cantaloupes
and as firm as medicine balls. They were tucked snugly behind a white top
and peeked out in the middle like two freshly baked loaves of bread. Her
perfectly round breasts were framed on the edges by her sausage-like ribs,
which in turn, framed her heaving brick wall of a stomach. Powerful
thighs were ripped to the max over her veined shins. Her calf muscles
were upright and bulged toward the back and sides.
Heather assumed this
powerful pose before him for several minutes and then dared him to challenge
her. She still seemed to grow bigger with every breath. And the
bigger and more powerful she got, the smaller and meeker his twisted, broken
torso become.
She suddenly grabbed
him by the head and smacked him face down on the floor. Grabbing his right arm,
she bent it back straight behind him and dug her knee into his shoulder
blade. She wrapped her right arm around his and put her palm to the ground,
next to his face. With his arm locked in hers, she slowly bent her right
arm as if doing a push up. Her arms were twice the diameter of his and
the sight of her bicep squeezing through his arm gave him a brief
blackout. A second later, he came to and she was crushing his arm in many
places with the weight of her body leveraging her supremely muscled arms over
his. More bones jutted out and more blood squirted.
Now that both of his
arms and one of his legs was completely destroyed, Charlie was totally
harmless. But just to make sure, she picked up his one good leg and
twisted the foot around and around. He screamed as his body tried to turn
with each turn, but she was around almost a full rotation before he felt his
leg pop out. It was another rotation that cracked all the small bones in
his leg. She held it twisted a full two rotations for a few long seconds
before kicking out his knee and cleanly breaking his leg in half.
Four annihilated limbs
on a shocked torso lay bleeding on the ground before her. But Charlie was
still breathing, just barely. She felt a solitary bead of sweat roll down
her stomach, making a way through all the crevices in between the
muscles.
He barely had the
energy to speak. Tears filled his bloodshot eyes as his lips quivered.
She flipped his body
over so he lay on his back. Then she lifted his head with one hand and maneuvered his body in between her thick legs. His
upper body hung suspended while his butt barely touched the ground behind
her. She was holding him up with the pure strength of her taut thigh
squeeze. She looked down into his defeated, sad face and smiled.
She had him right where she wanted. Her hands dropped to her hips and she
began to squirm with him. His body moved limply in her legs. Then
she slowly began to squeeze, applying pressure little by little. His eyes
grew wider and wider. Her legs were more striated and bulging. His
eyes started bulging out of their sockets. She squeezed harder. He
heard some cracks. It was his ribs, giving way to the pressure of her
thighs. His face stood frozen, facing her, but the light was going out
from his eyes.
“Where are you going,
Charlie?” Heather asked politely. “Don’t leave me now. We were just
starting the foreplay.”
She squeezed her legs
tighter and his ribs cracked and cracked more. His face got redder and
redder, finally purple.
“Penny Schmidt,” she
said suddenly and noticed the light come back into his eyes. He
recognized the name, she noted, “was brutally raped by you a just over a month
ago.” She squeezed her legs even tighter. “And that’s why I’m here.
To tell you that we have your DNA and other proof that you violated her.
And if you take this to the police, we’re going to provide them with your semen
samples and other evidence we’ve gathered and have you convicted as a
rapist. And you know what happens when rapists go to prison, right
Charlie?” Her eyes glared into his terrified, bloodshot eyes. “They
become rape victims themselves.”
Heather held Charlie
there, squeezed between her thighs, for several minutes. Then she opened
her legs apart and let him drop to the floor. She walked over and grabbed
the phone to put it next to his face.
“So whaddaya say, Charlie?” she said as she held the phone
up. “I can dial the cops right now and you can tell them that you were
brutally attacked by an escort girl. She broke your arms, your legs and
your ribs and you want her to pay for her crime.” She said as she
smiled. “Then I can come down to the precinct with Penny, her mother, the
private detective who hired me and the evidence we’ve been gathering on you and
give our side of the story.”
Charlie, not able to
move and still wincing in pain, was barely able to speak. Blood was
dripping from his mouth.
“Or,” she
continued. “I can leave here, call an ambulance and have the hospital
patch you up as best they can. And when you’re good and ready, you can
leave this city and never come back.”
She smiled mockingly
as she stared at him.
“But know this,
Charlie,” she warned. “We’ve got our eye on you no matter where you
go. And if you even think of raping another girl, there isn’t a hospital
in the world that can save what’s gonna
happen to you.”
Heather put the phone
down next to him and got up again. She stood directly over him with a
foot on either side of his head. He was looking straight up her rocky,
muscular legs and at her panties. Then past her skirt
up her stony abs until he saw her face between the cleavage of her breasts.
“Have a nice day,
Charlie,” she smiled and walked away.
After gathering her
coat and sunglasses, she left his house and walked down the street. At
the nearest pay phone, she made an anonymous phone call to 911 and had the
medics show up at his house to take him away.
When Heather got back
to Ms. Gibson’s office, she changed her clothes and started telling her about
what happened. A day later, Ms. Gibson found out from the hospital about
his injuries. Two broken arms, two broken legs, 4 broken ribs and he had
to have his damaged testicles removed.
“Geez!” Ms. Gibson later told Heather. “He
would have been better off in a high-speed car crash.”
Penny was told only
that her assailant was confronted and would be leaving town shortly. She
was also told that Heather would be watching over her in the meantime and not
to worry about a thing. Ms. Gibson also noted that the police report had
said that two unidentified assailants attacked Charlie during his sleep.
So Heather convinced him not to say a word to the police and for that, Ms.
Gibson was proud of Heather.
“Nice job,” she told
her. “But geez, go easier on them next time,
will you?”
Heather smiled.
She knew the reason why she inflicted such damage was to prove herself to
Deidre. In a way, Deidre knew it as well.
“I hear you broke all
four limbs!” Deidre said with a bedeviled
smile. “Ya know, just because you can break
some poor wimp’s arms doesn’t mean that you can intimidate me in an arm
wrestling match.”
Heather laughed.
“Oh, no?”
And with that, they
rolled up their sleeves, went back to the standing table in the gym, and waited
for the crowd to gather. Their palms locked and they looked across the
table and smiled a good sport smile at one another.
“3-2-1-GO!” Linda shouted.
Immediately, their
arms tensed and their biceps rumbled like two cannonballs waiting to explode