A brutal tale. Warning: Blood and gore.
She pushed open the nightclub door…the cold biting wind was a refreshing change. She spat. The tequila shots were like piss. And that made her angrier.
Earlier, delivery of her new workout equipment had been delayed. So she had missed out on her new fitness regime.
Helena had always been strong. In school as a gymnast, later as an athlete… Finally, to take up pole-vaulting as a sport of choice… In which her arm and shoulders had become superhumanly strong.
Cut back to present, as she moves away, she hears cries and muffled screams from the alley. She runs in… Only to see Viktor and Olga, her good friends, being mugged by three large men. The three paused to look at her. They were large men, very large.
Broad-shouldered, broken noses. The toughs from the Volgograd rugby team. Once the pride of the second division….now facing relegating to the fourth…
Let them go now, she said.
“Pryzhki Suka!” (Look, it’s the jumping bitch!) “We will get you after we
finish with them”, said one of the tough guys.
She stood there, and slipped off her trench coat. Inside, she had just a
sports bra. She was in a sports bra, her naked shoulders glistening in the pale light. Round hard globes of muscle. Made strong and large through years of exercise and a regimen which included propelling her body with force over a bar 5 metres high.
As the trench coat came down, her hard, strong biceps came to the fore. Large, curving muscles, like sculpted steel. Veins sprouting everywhere, cascading down her forearms… Revealed as the sleeves of the coat came off. Her upper body, defined by the shoulders…coming to the strongly built chest with striated pectorals
A firm bosom… leading to the wonder of her abs – glorious 8 packs of the shredded variety
And then she discarded the coat completely. She had just a pair of tights on… The short sleeves of which were stretched back, as they couldn’t quite contain the musculature of the thighs. The thighs were long, and looked like they were made of layers of metal sheets. Thick, dense. Made to propel her powerful body at great speed.
Long thighs that came to strong knees… And the calves…what calves. The legs just flared into magnificent orbs of round, dense, marble-hard muscle pulsating with controlled power.
Those stems were made to break. Break people, break boards, bricks, bones, walls, wills, minds…
When she stepped forward, the three ex-rugby stalwarts had their eyes on the calves. The mesmerising way in which they swelled, tightened, swelled, tightened, as she stepped forward.
And then she leapt in a flash – like a leopard. She leapt without a sound. And hit the first one with her knee on the jaw. KRAK! The jaw was unhinged. A few teeth flew away, as Igor went down in a heap…. “Muuugh muughhhh!”
Helena crouched like a panther stalking its injured prey.
As Vadim got over his shock, and jumped at her. Helena was too quick for him and he fell in the spot where she was placed just a second back.
She ran at Artur, the third one, and buried her fist in his not so hard gut,
felling him instantly. Quickly, she came to Viktor and Olga… The latter was just scared, but Viktor had been battered.
Helena hooked her arms under his body ad picked up the 100 kg man tenderly. She took them out of the alley. “Now Olga, take care of Viktor. I’ve some unfinished business”
She went back to the alley, where Vadim had picked up a metal rod, and came swinging menacingly at her. Helena was much too quick for the vodka dulled senses of Vadim. She let him swing once, twice, thrice… And then as he swung back, she caught the rod in her left hand. The rod would just not move from her hand. Vadim tugged, pulled, heaved, but Helena’s grip was as if the rod had been welded to her hand.
Actually, years of gripping the pole had made her palms and fingers so strong, that she barely registered a tug. Her arms and shoulders twitched, and she turned the rod around in a circle, wrenching it out of Vadim’s grasp. She threw the rod back. “Vadim, now that can be dangerous”
She advanced on him. He responded by trying to bludgeon her with his pudgy fists. She stretched her arms, and fended off his blows. As he hit her arms, he felt shocks, as if he were striking metal bars. Clutching his arms, he tried to retreat, but Helena was on him in a flash.
She kicked him on his side, a blow that made him dash against the wall.
Thwack, smack, whappp! Powerful blows propelled by honed muscles, dealing deadly blows with rock like hard legs. Her ferocious kicks were plunging into him like fingers pushing into soft dough. After twenty kicks, both his arms were fractured. His ribs were broken, and he was barely conscious.
She then got down on her knees and started pummelling him with her fists. Bam bam bam bam…went her fists like pile drivers into his upper body and face. Pieces of flesh, bone, blood splatter came flying from the zone. She got up, her arms elbow deep in blood and gore. She laughed at the quivering mass of jelly that lay at her feet.
She stomped on his chest. And again, as she heard the crack of his ribs. Her body was highlighted by the rivulets of blood running down her sexy muscles.
And then she brought her leg up… and stomped with all her might. She broke through the rib cage, bursting his heart.
Now all this Artur saw, and lost his nerve… Helena stood there…the blood from Vadim caking her hands and legs. Making a stark contrast against her white skin. Slowly tracing the shape of her veins, going around the ridges of her muscles… as she stood there over the wreck formerly known as Vadim.
Helena turned to look at Artur. She walked to him. Artur had lost control of his legs, and couldn’t move. She held him by the collar. Her sheer arm strength holding up his body weight.
She held her thumb and middle finger together…and flicked it at his groin,… like a carrom shot. That hit of her middle finger on his testicles gave him a sharp pain – he almost blacked out. She let him fall down, as his nerves reacted and he emptied his belly in one heave.
Boris, the one with the broken jaw, had painfully managed to almost drag himself out of the alley, until Helena came from behind, grabbed his ankles and pulled him back.
She dragged him right to the end of the alley, a good 15 metres away.
“Muughhh…muh muh mmuuugh!” he screamed. “I can’t understand you brother” she said. “But suffer you must, for what you did to Viktor.”
So saying, she picked him up and put him against the wall. And pummelled him with her knees. The beating was brutal. Nay, it was more of a pounding. The kind that grounds hard things to powder, or soft things to pulp. Helena’s knees were like wrecking balls. She broke his chest so that he was bleeding from his nose and mouth.
“You big rugby goof, are you ever going to do anything bad again?” Boris’s jaw was too badly broken, and he had no breath left to answer. So Helena turned him around and picked him up. She placed him on her shoulders, facing up. Her right arm was around his neck, the left around his thighs. She pulled down on him, arching his back on her shoulders. She kept pulling down….using her shoulders as the fulcrum…irreversibly damaging his back…making him scream.
She then placed him on the garbage can, with his butt over the edge. Bending, she picked up the metal rod lying there. She roughly pulled down his pants, exposing his milky white, somewhat cellulitic butt. And proceeded to spank him mercilessly with the rod.
‘Whack-whack-whack-whack-whack’ went her arm in rapid succession. So hard and fast she hit him that the ‘whack-whack-whack-whack’ went on to sound ‘splat-slat-splat-splat-splat-splotch-splotch … “
As the hard metal rod with the grooving tore the skin off his arse and made it raw, removed the upper layer of fat and exposed the inner muscle. She left the bloodied and broken Boris lying on the garbage can.
Artur was trying to run away. Helena leapt at him, managing to catch him by the belt. She dragged him back into the alley, almost removing his pants.
Helena then laughed…”See what I’ve done to your friends.”
She picked him up gently in a cradle. Led him to where Boris lay with his the bloodied arse and broken face.
Artur was now quivering in her arms. The 90 kg mass of soft muscle was weeping like a baby…
And then gently rocking him, walking over to the carcass of Vadim… To the slaughter that she had so brutally carried out.
Artur had now pissed in his pants. The stink reached Helena’s nostrils. She dropped him on the ground. Somehow his legs found the courage to move. He ran, but Helena had her hand gripping his belt. In his desperation, Artur scrambled out of his pants. He almost got away until Helena grabbed him by his sweater. She yanked that off, and then ripped his underclothes…leaving him quivering and naked…crawling on the cold hard alley.
Helena caught the big man by the neck and pulled him up. “Do you feel my power, Artur?” Artur was on his tiptoes, trying to avoid hanging from the hand at his throat. “Do you feel THE STRENGTH IN MY ARMS!?!” Her fingers were crushing his Adam’s apple, making it hard to speak or breathe.
A weak croaking whisper came out…”spare me…spare me o Helena”. With the other arm, she punched his midriff…as he dangled helplessly in her grasp.
She then threw him down, and put her foot on his face. She pressed hard, distorting his face, almost squeezing his skull flat. “Ehhh ….Eeerrrmmmmm… ” he exclaimed.
His legs and arms thrashed about helplessly As Helena’s foot continued its relentless pressure…her calf bulging as she piled on the power. She moved her foot away, to his chest…as he moaned his relief. Tears had come to his eyes… he was sobbing like a child, pleading, begging, entreating her to let him go: “Please, please …oh please…..please…pleaseeee Helenaaaaaa…”
His shaking hands went up to her bulbous calf. As if stunned, they stopped shaking…and with wonder… he began to trace out the hardness – The rock hard ridges of her calves… A hardness no man could ever get. He ran his fingers over the twin inverted muscles…with the ridge between them. In his mind, he picturised the domes of the Kremlin, only inverted…
He could feel the muscles therein move, he could feel the power inside…
pulsing, throbbing… like an immense coiled spring…ready to unleash
destruction at a mere thought.
He tried to push his hand at the calf, but met only rock like resistance. He panicked….thrashing about… as her foot moved down…slowly, inexorably crushing his chest. Helena laughed… and flexed a double bicep pose. The picture of this terrible beauty, with the white skin caked with the blood of his friends… Gave him a thrill of a different kind as well… As he struggled with his body…his mind started to give. His will was weakening fast…. And the most obvious sign was his raging erection!
His hips began to jerk upwards, almost involuntarily. Helena smiled almost like an angel. Even as her foot was on his chest, she leaned down towards him. The pressure increased more; he felt his ribs start to give away. He could barely breathe now. Her face was close, almost close enough to touch.
Her massive calf bunched and clenched, as she rubbed her foot in even more. She reached back with her right arm and caught his thrumming cock in her hand. And began to slowly, ohhh, soo slowwlyyy….stroke it. She stroked him like that, almost in slow motion. Making him mad with desire, driving him crazy with his chest almost bursting…
She squeezed his dick, and pressed his chest. Slow. So Slow.
Squeeze, Press. Squeeze, Press.
His breathing was now in irregular, painful gasps. The eyes were rolling back in pain and pleasure. As Helena smiled. And Squeezed. And Stroked. His mouth opened wide, a tremor went through him….and he shot his load. Helena directed his cock to her underthighs… laughing as his wet cum splattered and tickled the back of her muscular thigh.
Cum for me, Artur, she said in a husky voice. Come for me. Come! As if in thrall, he continued to shoot… Splattering her calves too.
Cum more….more… she said. MORE! I want more, Artur…cum more for me… She squeezed him hard….used the power of her palms…. She squeezed his dick like a sponge, so hard, that it burst.
She laughed, as his blood spurted…and splattered her glorious skin and
muscles. Red on white.
Artur had a glazed look. His ecstasy was replaced by agony. He was going into shock. Come to me now Artur, she said, and pressed with her foot even harder. His sternum began to crack, audibly… Krr.. krr… splat! The ribcage was broken now. His internal organs were ruptured
Helena pushed her foot through the crack in his chest. I want to feel your heart, Artur. I want to feel it beat. Her foot moved through the broken bones and the mess of his lungs. As they found his heart. She could feel it vibrate, as it started to go into arrhythmia…
She felt his heart with her foot…pulsing irregularly…the fibrillations of
the organ. She felt the heart in its dying moments….
And then pressed with all her power…squashing the heart completely. The aorta ruptured, sending a massive gout of blood out in a fountain. Helena was drenched completely in the still warm blood that she had explosively forced out from his heart.
She stood there, the red lady, with fair skin…laughing at her victory over her weak opponents. The blood tracing its way over her veins and muscles, as if Artur was feeling her power all over again…