Karen Dominates
by Alpesco
Six foot two inch Karen enforces her will.


The tall figure of Karen Sandwood drew the car to a halt and turned off the
engine. It was our car, mine and Vince's, but Sandwood had now taken control
of it. She had driven our vehicle and its heavy trailer all the way up here to
this isolated spot. Neither Vince nor I had been able to stop her. Vince still
lay behind me, on the rear seat of the car, gagged, his hands and legs tied.
Both of us were being kidnapped.

Karen unfolded her long, powerful frame as she stepped out of the car and
stood erect. She nodded to me to do the same. I obeyed at once, not wanting to
antagonize her. She looked back at our battered trailer home. It had suffered
even more damage on the journey up the bumpy track to this place than it had
done earlier. Sandwood towered above me. I stood five feet seven inches tall.
She was six feet two - a towering, good-looking woman in jeans and an
open-neck sleeveless shirt. In her late twenties, she had a serious face
beneath straggly blonde hair that fell to her shoulders.

Slim but solidly built, her tight blue jeans emphasized the shape and power of
her long legs, the flaring muscles stretching the fabric skin tight as she
moved. Compared to her powerful legs, her waist was startlingly slender,
rising from her belted jeans to a long, narrow midriff. Then her torso widened
sharply as it rose toward powerful, broad shoulders and long, densely-muscular
arms.

I glanced around, trying to see where she had brought us. It had taken nearly
an hour, driving along bumpy unmade tracks to get up here from the public
road. I could see that we were high up, deep in the mountains, with bare peaks
soaring above the trees that surrounded the clearing. A few timber buildings
made up the small homestead. There was a wooden cabin with double glazed
windows and a long porch, a barn for domestic animals, and a couple of
outhouses. Double doors set into the bare earth near the cabin, looked as if
they led down to an underground store room or shelter.

"Why are you doing this?" I demanded, trying to come to terms with the fact
that this one woman had succeeded in overpowering both of us. At twenty eight,
I was about the same age as our kidnapper. My boyfriend, Vince, was thirty
seven, and five feet ten tall, yet she'd managed to defeat us both! We'd
picked her up as a roadside hitcher, apparently in trouble. Only later had we
discovered that she had lied, and that she was really some sort of unbalanced
conspiracy theorist who was trying to live off her own resources in these
woods.

We rejected her demands to borrow our car, and to use our credit cards to pay
for new equipment she required. Vince had then told her to leave. That was
when she'd chosen to use force. The six foot two inch young woman was
shockingly powerful, and had proved able to take over our car and trailer with
comparative ease, hurting me and overpowering and tying up my boyfriend,
Vince. After that, we were helpless to stop her as she drove into town, used
our credit cards to buy supplies for herself, and then brought us up here -
wherever this was.

"Why have you brought us here?" I repeated.

"Because you tried to betray me!" Sandwood scowled. "You could have loaned me
a little of your money, let me have the use of your car for a few hours, and
gone on your way. Instead you tried to throw me out on the road with nothing!
Then you lied. You promised that you wouldn't betray me - but tried to get
away and set the police and the government agents on my back! You had your
chance to help me and go on your way. Now you've blown it. You're going to
have to stay here until I'm satisfied you won't try to stab me in the back
again. So stand exactly where you are, and don't move."

She turned to the rear of the car, opened the door, and stooped to lift the
still bound body of Vince out of the back seat. As usual, her lift looked
effortless. This 175 pound woman was carrying a five foot ten man who weighed
around the same as herself, but she was so strong! She held Vince's bound body
horizontal at just below shoulder height, supporting him in her arms with as
little effort as if he were a plastic doll! She strode with him across to the
porch and laid him out on top of a large wooden storage chest.

Turning to face me, she stretched out her sleeveless arms and flexed them. Her
biceps and shoulder muscles were huge! Her arms had seemed big even for her
height of six foot two, with dense, corded muscles running along their length.
But when she tensed them, two ballooning hills of muscle erupted from her
upper arms. Each was bigger than any bicep I'd ever seem up close. They were
like two large cannonballs rising beneath the skin.

"They're just over seventeen inches now," Sandwood said as she saw me stare.
"That makes them pretty darn powerful. But I intend to train them up to
eighteen inches before the winter."

"Seventeen inches?" I said.

"And all solid, category 'A' muscle!" Sandwood grinned, maintaining her flex
for a few moments more, before lowering her powerful arms. "Now you'd better
do as I say."

"You've no right to order us about!" I objected.

"I have all the right I need," she said. "On this mountain, I make the law.
This is my kingdom. Outside, the whole world is starting to fall apart. Soon
all of what you call civilisation is going to be gone. That's why I left the
city two years ago. I'm making sure I'm ready for when it all goes belly up."

"What makes you think that the world's going to end?"

"It won't end," Sandwood said. "It's just going to continue falling apart. The
government is a self-seeking conspiracy. Within five years there'll be no
order. The cities will be polluted hellholes, overrun with chemicals,
cellphone radiation and disease. The only place where a decent life will be
preserved is out here. And on this mountain I decide what happens." She turned
back to Vince.

He groaned as she picked him up again and turned to carry him inside the
cabin. There was a living room with a kitchen at one end, and two bedrooms.
She carried Vince into the smaller room where there were two bunks, the big
biceps of her arms swelling as she placed him on the upper bunk bed.

"Industrial mainstream Society is finished," she continued. "I intend to
survive the best way I can out here. And I do that by being strong, You saw
what that means when I took your car and trailer from you. They now belong to
me, until I decide what is going to happen to them. You'll stay here and do as
I tell you until I think it advisable to let you do otherwise."

"When will that be?"

"When you've convinced me that you can be trusted not to try to betray me to
the government and its agencies."

"We won't do that," I said.

The tall woman frowned. "You lied to me before - I don't believe anything you
say right now."

"You're the one in the wrong - not us!" I yelled. "You took our car. You took
our money, and forced us to come here!" I attempted to press past her toward
Vince.

At once her big arm stretched out across the small room to stop me. I pushed
against it. She gave a thin smile as her right arm stayed exactly where it
was, in spite of all my efforts to push past it.

Sandwood's arm was thick and dense, like a small tree trunk stretched across
my path. But I could have moved a tree trunk of that size. Sandwood's arm,
however, simply refused to move. I was alarmed to discover that that one arm
was stronger than I was! I was annoyed by the overwhelming superiority of
Sandwood's strength. What right had she to enforce her will over mine? I
fought harder to push past. But her arm seemed to have turned to stone! I
couldn't believe how little I could do against it's solid muscular power!
Sandwood seemed to be enjoying this demonstration of her strength. She gave a
thin smile. I felt the big muscles along her arm begin to harden and contract.
Then, with a sudden forward surge, her arm hurled me backward with astonishing
force. My body flew back into the rear wall, hitting hard.

'Oooough!' I cried as I felt the air being knocked out of me. My head crashed
back into the wooden wall, and my earlier bruises flared back into life.

I touched the left side of my face where she'd slapped me during our last
attempt to fight back. It was a mass of bruises that still burned like fire. I
winced and gave an involuntary cry. Sandwood had said it would take days for
the pain to ease. I was beginning to fear that she was right. She was simply
too strong. Although she was the same age as me, I couldn't do anything to
oppose her.

"You'll both sleep in this room for now," Sandwood said, closing the narrow
door behind her so that all three of us were shut in the one small room. She
turned to face the door, her right hand gathering into a solid fist. "But just
so that you don't start thinking this is a refuge that you can use to plot
against me, I'm going to make one small change - " Her big arm drew back, the
heavy muscles bunching. I still had no idea what she was thinking of doing.

Suddenly, her right arm powered forward, to send its fist crashing into the
top right hand corner of the closed door. A deafening explosion of noise
echoed around the confined space, as splinters and shards of wood flew
everywhere. As the dust settled, and the last echoes of the impact faded away,
Sandwood withdrew her arm to reveal a jagged hole, six inches across, where
the top right corner of the door had been. I gasped. My ears were still
ringing with the intense noise as I realized that Karen had just punched a
hole right through the door! I was shocked by the raw power her arm could
apply!

"That will allow me to keep an eye on you," she said, turning the handle to
open the damaged door. It swung inward at a slight angle, and with a rasping
creak that hadn't been there before. Karen swung the door to and fro for a
moment to test the hinges, then nodded. "I don't think I've done the frame too
much damage," she said. "But the hinges are weak. Don't put too much weight on
it."

Vince was still firmly tied and gagged, but he gave a louder grunt of
discomfort than before as Sandwood picked him up in her arms once more and
carried him back outside.

"Won't you untie Vince now?" I asked.

"Okay. I'll release him," She began to untie his legs. "But I want your
promise that you will both do everything I say." She rolled Vince over and
began to untie his hands. "You must swear not to try to run off or betray me."
She watched as Vince stood up unsteadily and began to loosen his gag.

"Do you both agree to that?" Sandwood asked.

"Yes," I nodded. Vince did too.

Once released, Vince stretched his limbs, limping a little. I could see that
he was still in some pain from the beating Sandwood had handed out to him six
hours before in the trailer. He moved stiffly, and with occasional winces of
pain as bruises on his body came in contact with his clothing. The worrying
thing was that Sandwood had taken no apparent damage from either of us in the
fracas. She still seemed every bit as supple and powerful as before.

"You are not to leave this clearing or go into any part of the woods," Karen
told us. "You are not to touch any vehicle or any other major piece of
equipment without my direct order. You are not to venture outdoors after dark.
You are not to attempt to leave without my permission. And you are to do
everything I say, immediately I say it. No arguments. Break any of these
rules, or any others I choose to set, and you will receive punishment. Do you
understand?"

We nodded.

"Right." She pointed to a small plot where vegetables were growing. "Your
first task will be to clean the weeds out of those vegetables." She looked at
her watch. "I expect that whole plot clear in an hour and a half. Start now.
If your work is unsatisfactory, you will forfeit your lunch."

"We've got to overpower her," Vince whispered to me as we knelt in the earth
pulling out weeds from between turnips, potatoes and cabbages. "And then get
away from here!"

"She's too strong!" I said. "She's four inches taller than you, and you saw
what she can do with her fists! She smashed right through that solid door with
one punch!"

"She can hit awful hard," Vince admitted. "But she's big and she's heavy. I've
got a spare car key in my pocket." He nodded to our car, detached from the
trailer about a hundred yards away, on the far edge of the clearing. "I'll
make a break for the car.."

"No!" I hissed, knowing what else Sandwood had told me, but it was too late.
Vince was already on his feet, and had started running.

I turned toward our tall captor. She was on the other side of the clearing,
opening a storage shed, she hadn't yet noticed Vince moving.

But a second later Sandwood looked up, alerted by the movement. Vince had
about 90 yards to get to the car. Sandwood was sixty yards the other side of
me. She gave an angry roar, dropped the oil can she was carrying, and launched
herself into a run after him.

At once I realised that Sandwood hadn't been boasting when she'd told me about
her speed. Far from slowing her down, her physical strength transferred well
into sprinting ability. Her long, muscular legs drove her forward like a
rocket. Her acceleration was amazing, already her tall, powerful body was
starting to gain on Vince.

"Run faster, Vince!" I shouted. He looked behind him and tried to speed up. He
was still seventy yards from the car, and Sandwood was storming after him. She
ran so fast! She was cutting down the gap inexorably, her long legs eating up
the ground in six foot strides. I urged Vince on. He seemed to speed up, and
had almost made it to the empty car when the tall figure crashed into him. I
saw him stagger as her shoulder drove into him, knocking him off-course into a
deep rut. Her left arm halted him, dragging him back round to face her as her
big right arm drew ominously back. I had a very bad feeling. I could see from
Sandwood's face that she had made up her mind to punish Vince, and she was
incredibly strong. Her frown deepened as her upper body twisted inward,
powering the blow home.

I saw the blur as her fist sped toward its target, crashing heavily into
Vince's skull, although it was a fraction of a second before the sound of the
blow reached me. Sandwood had clearly put a lot of power into that blow. It
was startlingly loud - a heavy crack, like a large rock hitting a coconut, and
the sound was accompanied by a desolate moan of pain. I saw Vince slump as the
blow hit him. His legs gave way. He fell to his knees and then on to all fours
on the ground. Sandwood stood over him, her fist still tight clenched,
watching as he struggled to rise. I didn't know what to do. Half of me wanted
him to get back up. The other half knew that if he did, Sandwood would just
him again, with brutal force. Her big arm was poised and ready, and easily
capable of handing out the same again, and many times over.

"Don't try to fight her, Vince!" I wailed. I don't know whether he heard me,
but she must have hit him real hard, because he couldn't manage to get back up
off the ground. It was as if could no longer control his own limbs. I watched
as he managed to rise partially to his feet, only to lose control and fall
flat on his face in the mud.

Sandwood watched dispassionately as he again struggled to get back on to his
hands and knees. The result this time was exactly the same as the first. He
toppled over and fell heavily. After this fall, however, he simply lay face
down on the ground, no longer trying to raise even his head or shoulders.
Satisfied that he wasn't going to get back up under his own power, Karen bent,
slid her arms beneath him, and stood, lifting his semi-conscious body five
feet up in the air, to hold it cradled in her arms. She turned with him, and
came striding back toward me.

She towered over me, still holding Vince stretched out in her arms. I was
shocked to see the large, weeping bruise that now marred the upper left side
of his face, way above the older, darkening bruise to his jaw that Sandwood
had given him in the trailer. I gasped. The bruise was nearly six inches
across, and it stood out a half inch above his normal skin level, discoloring
and darkening as I stared. It ran in an ugly lump beneath the hairline,
distorting the shape of his face. He groaned, shaking his head as he tried to
force himself back into full consciousness.

"What have you done to him?" I gasped.

"No more than he deserved," Sandwood said flatly, her huge biceps looking
swollen to bursting point as they supported Vince's 170 pound weight. Her
power was oppressive. There seemed to be no escaping it. "I gave him one good
hard shot. That's more than enough to teach most people the lesson they need
to learn."

"You've done this before?"

"When I've had to," she said as she laid him out on a bench. "There's not many
people I can't bring to heel with one of these babies." She clenched her hands
to form two large, rawboned fists. "Opposing me is a losing proposition."

"Will Vince be okay?" I asked.

"He'll live. But that run-away attempt was really dumb. I knew he'd probably
try something like that." She stepped back to look at him. "Can you hear me,
Vincent?" she raised her voice.

"Uuunnnngh!" He grunted, responding to the commanding tone of Karen's voice,
looking vaguely toward her, though it didn't look as though his eyes could yet
focus.

"You were incredibly stupid if you thought you could out-run me. I used to run
twelve seconds dead for the hundred meters, fifty two seconds for the four
hundred, and I ran my last marathon in two hours thirty eight minutes. I can
run a lot longer and harder than you, and I can hit a hell of a lot harder
when I catch up to you. Don't try to defy me again or you really will get
hurt."

Vince grunted as his head slumped. Blood was starting to pour from his
hairline where the swelling bruise had split the skin.

"He needs a doctor!" I went and held him.

"He'll be okay. I've hit guys harder than that before." Sandwood moved a big
arm to grip Vince's jaw, moving his head round to examine it. "He's in a
little bit of shock. He has a moderate trauma of the upper medial skull
region, that's produced a slight concussion, and he needs something to close
the headwound. Other than that, he should be okay."

"Do you know something about medicine?" I asked in surprise.

"I know enough," she said. "I did a couple of years medical training, and I
used to work as a pharmacist when I lived in the city. I can diagnose ninety
percent of medical conditions, and I can make up a remedy for just about
anything. Just because I'm stronger than most guys my size, doesn't mean I'm
stupid." She bent, lifted the semi-conscious figure back up into her arms, and
carried him back to the cabin, placing him on his bunk in the tiny room she'd
assigned to us. "Stay with him," she ordered, leaving me with him. Moments
later she returned with some gauze and a salve.

"This is to stop the bleeding. Don't let him go to sleep for three hours," she
said. "Talk to him, move him, keep him conscious. After that it should be okay
to let him sleep."

I applied the cream and used the gauze to staunch the blood flow from the torn
skin, but I couldn't get Vince to speak or respond. I sat with him as Sandwood
had instructed, finally leaving him to sleep. I felt more hopeless than ever.
It was obvious that if Sandwood could do this to Vince with one punch, she was
more than a match for both of us. I wondered just how many punches of that
power she could deliver if she got mad enough. It wasn't a pleasing thought.

The next morning I worriedly shook Vince awake. The horrible bruise Karen's
blow had raised was still as prominent as ever. In fact it seemed to have
swollen even more during the night, and was now a dark blotchy color. It made
his face look lop-sided, but at least the bleeding and weeping had stopped.

"How is he?" Sandwood walked in.

"He seems to be okay," I said.

She inspected him briefly. "Some of the scarring may be permanent," she said.
"It depends on his skin. But other than that, he's got off lightly." She
turned away.

I helped a still-dazed Vince out onto the narrow porch an hour later. Half way
across the clearing was Karen. She was dressed in jeans and a white tank top
that left her broad shoulders bare. It looked like she'd been exercising. As
we watched, she walked over to a truck rear axle that lay beside the track.
She gripped it and picked it up together with the two attached wheels, each
four feet across. I knew it had to weigh at least a hundred and fifty pounds.
But Sandwood stood perfectly straight with the weight hanging from her hands.
Then she flexed her arms, and began to curl the heavy bar to chin height and
back again.

We watched as she did twelve perfect reps, waited a moment, then did twelve
more, her big arms flexing powerfully as they hefted the heavy weight.

"I don't like this at all." Vince stood. "She's too damn strong now! This is
just making her stronger!"

"She's very powerful." I said. "We have to do as she wants for now."

At that moment I saw a man appear at the edge of the clearing. He looked about
five feet ten, like Vince, but looked heavier, at around 200 pounds. I
wondered who he was, hoping he might be able to help us. He looked nervous as
he walked toward the house. Then he noticed the two of us and began to
retreat.

"Stop!" Karen ran after him. "Don't be afraid." He halted at once as she
strode up to him.

"This is Mitch," she said, raising her voice so that it carried back to us
clearly. Without warning, she bent and swept him off his feet, lifting him up
in her arms. He didn't attempt to resist her as she picked him up and cradled
him, then walked easily back over to us. "I allow him to live lower down on
the mountain in return for a little bit of work now and then. He's a little
shy," she explained. "He's not used to strangers. Say hello, Mitch."

"Hello," Mitch said.

Bending, she set the chubby figure down in front of us. "These are my guests,
Mitch. You're to be nice to them. But tell me at once if they go beyond the
clearing, or do anything else that I haven't ordered."

He nodded. "If you say so, Ms Sandwood."

"It's a good thing you came up." Karen said. "I need to straighten out the
flue pipe on the roof. You can give me a boost. Stand over there, and hold
your arms out. I'm going to climb up on your shoulders."

Wordlessly, the new arrival obeyed. He seemed to be totally under Sandwood's
command, doing whatever she said without question. She climbed up to sit
astride his shoulders. "Stay still." she ordered as she stood up and climbed
up onto the cabin roof, inspecting the flue pipe and then descending. Mitch
winced as he supported her back down.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"That's why I came up, Miss Karen," he said, showing her his leg. "I got a
nasty cut from a sheet of metal." There was a gash five inches long along his
calf.

The six foot two woman bent to examine it. "I'm going to have to cut out a
metal shard," she said, "then put some stitches in that. And I'll give you a
tetanus shot."

"No," Mitch drew back nervously. "A bandage will do fine, then I can manage
okay by myself.."

"Stop!" Sandwood ordered. I could see he was nervous, but he obeyed. "Go and
lie on that table." She pointed.

"I can't!" he said, turning away and making as if to dash back toward the
woods.

"Okay," she said, grabbing him from behind, her long arms snaking beneath his
armpits and then back up behind his neck, where they linked in a full-nelson.

Despite his greater weight, Mitch was immediately immobilised. He struggled to
free himself, but Sandwood's powerful arms were as unyielding as granite. And
now they hardened as they began to pour on the power. Karen's face bore an
untroubled expression as her arms began to bend his body right over. Her
strength was incredible, even for someone of her height. His whole body
couldn't resist the power those big arms could apply. He was still trying to
resist, but her arms were just too powerful. His back bent and his head went
down to his knees as she doubled him completely over.

"You'll do exactly as I say," her voice was unyielding. "Right?" Now that she
had him bent double, she disengaged her right arm, her left seeming to have
the strength to hold him in position on its own. Her right hand withdrew a
couple of feet and formed into a heavy fist. The implied threat was evident.
Sandwood's arm could strike with appalling force in a fraction of a second, to
punish any defiance.

Mitch looked round and saw Sandwood's arm hanging there. "I'm sorry! I'm
sorry! I'll obey you!" he said. He was almost in tears.

"Good." Sandwood's left arm relaxed, allowing him to stand. "Don't try to defy
me. I really don't like being disobeyed. Now stay still. I'm going to knock
you out."

"No. Don't!"

"You can't stop me," Karen said. "It's better not to try." Her right hand was
already closed into a fist. "You'll hardly feel it," she said.

"Wait!" Mitch said, desperately. "Let's discuss this..."

"No discussion," Sandwood said. her arm moved. Mitch tried to dodge at the
last moment, but Sandwood's right arm homed in with deadly accuracy on the
base of Mitch's jaw. It cracked in one punch.The weight was shocking. Even now
the extent of Sandwood's strength came as a shock. The crack echoed round the
clearing as Mitch's head went back. He lost consciousness at once, and slumped
to the ground.

Karen was ready, and caught his body before it fully hit the ground. Lifting
the unconscious weight into her arms, she carried him back.

"That was hard," I said.

"I wanted him out for a while." She placed him on the outdoor table then went
indoors to fetch a box of equipment. Vince and I looked at the two hundred
pound figure. He lay still on the wooden table, breathing lightly but
regularly. He showed no sign at all of coming round.

A minute later, Karen emerged with a box of medical equipment. She put it
down, put on some rubber gloves, and produced some ampules and a syringe. She
cut away Mitch's jeans leg with scissors and cleaned the area around his
injury. She assembled the syringe, and then prepared to give him a shot.
"This'll make sure he stays under."

"Can you do that?" I asked.

"I studied medicine for two years, and I've done a lot of reading."

Sandwood took a knife from the box, cut into the wound in Mitch's leg and
prised out a twisted splke of metal. She cleaned the wound with antiseptic,
then got out some twine and a needle and began to stitch up the wound,
treating it with salve and wrapping it in a bandage. She rolled him over.

"I'll give him tetanus shot while he's out, and something against infection."
She filled two syringes and emptied them into his rear.

"Theres blood coming from his mouth!" Vince said.

"Yes," she nodded. "My anasthesia is a little crude, but it's fast and
effective."

She rolled him over again, and opened his mouth with her hand, peering inside.
"It's nothing. Just a cut." Sandwood let go of his mouth and picked Mitch's
two hundred pound weight up into her arms once more. Straightening, she
balanced the weight, and carried him into the cabin.

A few moments later Karen came back out. "I'm putting you two in the storm
shelter tonight," she said, opening up the pair of double doors close to the
house. Steps led down into darkness.

"No," I said. "We promise not to try to escape."

"I've lost trust in you," Sandwood shook her head. "And that results in
penalties."

Vince and I looked at each other. There was no way we were changing Sandwood's
mind. And we weren't yet ready to challenge her power again. We took the
stepway down toward a group of bunks as she barred the doors behind us.

We were worse off than ever.