Karen's Awesome Force
by Alpesco
Six foot two inch Karen Sandwood crushes a cult.


"There's some new people moved into the cabins down at Riggs Valley," Mitch said urgently. "They've been moving in furniture, and have started shooting deer." Mitch looked anxiously up at Karen. He was a 40 year-old drifter who Karen had allowed to live in a cabin lower down this mountain in return for doing a few odd jobs.

"How many are there?" Karen Sandwood asked. Although Mitch stood five feet ten tall, the blonde twenty eight year-old looked down at him from her superior height of six feet two. She was not only tall, but overpoweringly strong. Her athletic legs and long body widened into broad shoulders and long, muscular arms.

"Ten or twelve," Mitch answered. "They look as if they mean to stay."

"Not on my territory," Karen said. She stretched out her big arms and casually flexed them, producing an awesome display of muscle. "They've no right to be here. I'm going to check them out."



Karen considered the entire five mile square area around her isolated squatter farmstead to be her territory. It was over a month since she'd forced me and my boyfriend, Vince, to remain on this isolated farmstead high in the mountains near the Canadian border. I was twenty eight years old, about the same age as her, but I stood just five feet seven inches tall, and weighed 130 pounds, to her six foot two and 175. Vince, my boyfriend, was thirty seven, and five feet ten tall. But he was no match whatsoever for the powerful Sandwood - who was not letting either of us leave until she was sure we would not inform on her to the authorities.

Karen ordered Vince to stay behind with Mitch, while I went with her to the eastern edge of the mountain. We knew better than to disobey. There was no way either Vince or I could escape this isolated spot before Sandwood caught up with us.

After a two hour downhill walk, Karen and I came to a wooded ravine where a couple of timber cabins stood. We came to a track through the trees which had recently been used by a heavy vehicle. Rounding a bend, we came upon a large bus moving towards us along the trail. Karen stood in its path.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, as the bus halted and a tall man got out.

"This is the property of the New Millennium Cabal," the man said. "You'll have to leave. We're establishing a commune here."

"You're not," Sandwood said. "This mountain and all the land around it belong to me."

"No-one owns this land! Our leader made certain of that. Everything he does is guided by the Astral Spirits. Now get out of my way. I've more equipment to pick up and bring back here."

"No more vehicles are coming back down this road," she said, reaching into the bus and picking up an axe that was stashed next to the drivers seat.

"Hey! Put that back!" The driver watched her in alarm for a moment, then ran after her as she strode to a forty foot pine that stood behind the bus, ten feet away from the track. "I think this one will do," she said. She spit on her hands, gripped the axe and swung it. The steel head buried itself three inches deep into the trunk. Karen certainly struck hard. Her long, powerful arms drew the axe back and hewed again., biting even deeper. There was already a 'V' shaped wedge cut out of the trunk, five inches deep.

Seeing what she was trying to do, the driver tried to stop her. He grabbed her right arm and tried to haul it back. Karen resisted, her arm remaining exactly where it was as her big bicep swelled. Sandwood's arms looked strong enough normally. They were big, even for her height, with dense, heavy muscles along their whole length. But when she tensed them, two solid hills of muscle gathered in her upper arms, swelling and hardening until they were like cannonballs - bigger than any biceps I'd seen up close. They easily split the tape at seventeen inches.

I knew that the six foot man was in trouble. Karen looked strong, and she was stronger than she looked. Now she simply twisted her powerful shoulders, breaking his grip at once, and producing a sharp cry of pain. Drawing her right hand back, she formed it into a fist - which she brought forward in a solid punch.

KRUMMP! The blow didn't look that hard, but the noise told a different story. The tall man crashed back as if he'd been hit by the side of a truck, spinning round through 180 degrees, to fall motionless to the ground. I expected him to move, or groan, or try to get up, but he just lay there, completely still, blood trickling from the side of his mouth where Sandwood's punch had connected. His jaw was misshapen. It looked broken in at least two places. I felt a frisson of a thrill go through me. Karen was just so strong! This six foot man had been no match at all for her! He was out cold and injured, and she had just used one casual-looking punch!

Not even bothering to look at him, Karen placed both hands on the haft of the axe once more and began to strike. There was the sharp sound of blows landing. Each blow drove inches deep into the defenceless tree. It may have stood forty feet tall, but Karen was in absolute control. She swung the axe with enormous force, sending large chips of wood flying across the open roadway. Her solid blows ate into the broad trunk as if it were styrofoam. With just eight powerful blows the trunk was chopped half through.

Angling her axe, Sandwood sent in six more heavy blows to the far side of the trunk, creating a deep V shape opposite the main cut. She took a step back and then sent a heavy sideways kick into the trunk. The whole tree shook with the force of Karen's blow, the upper branches swaying noisily. She sent in another massive kick and, with a fierce cracking and tearing noise, the huge tree began to topple. I watched, awestruck, as the mighty tree came down, landing with a fearsome crash right across the track, blocking it completely. The forest fell silent once more as Karen stretched her heavily muscled arms. It had taken her less than three minutes to chop down this forty foot tree!

"Wow!" I gasped. "You don't even look tired!"

"I'm not," she said, holding the axe in one hand as she circled her long arms. "When I made the upper clearing, I took down seven trees this size inside an hour. Chopping wood makes for a good workout, but I don't like to cut down more trees than I really have to. Anyhow, no more trucks will be coming down this track for a while."

She turned, picked up the floppy, unconscious body of the driver in her arms, and placed it in the back of the bus, binding his arms and legs in case he came round.

"Let's go," Karen said, walking out of the woods toward the main building. I followed. As we approached, a man emerged from the main long, low cabin.

"What do you want here?" he shouted. "This is private property. We want no visitors." He was about six feet tall, in a padded red plaid shirt and jeans. "I'm Jack Emory, leader and prophet of this commune."

"I'm Karen Sandwood," she responded. "You're occupying my mountain. You're shooting game, and I'm telling you and your friends to be packed up and out of here inside the hour!"

"What!," Emory said. "I have been given this land by the Astral Spirits, as a center for the New Millennium World Order. Our new world begins here. So please leave - before I have you thrown out." He turned and walked back into the building.

"Oh no!" Karen strode in after him. I followed.

The long cabin had been converted into a bunkhouse, with bunk units alon the walls. Eight men, aged between eighteen and fifty were making up the beds. They looked to be mostly city dwellers of various shapes and sizes. They seemed to be making themselves at home. They would be hard to move. I wondered what karen was going to do.

"I've told you to leave!" Emory turned back to face Karen. "I don't want to have to harm you, but this place is forbidden to the polluting touch of the unenlightened."

"Look," I said, "You'd better leave. Karen's already claimed this land - and she has friends."

"Is that a threat?" Emory grabbed my hand. "Perhaps you'd better tell me about these friends and what they're planning!" He dragged me forward across the room.

"Hey!" Karen stepped forward, but the men gathered in the room stepped between her and their leader.

"Take that woman and lock her in the storehouse," Emory ordered as he dragged me toward the door at the other end of the bunkhouse. "I'll decide what to do with her when we find out who the hell she is."

I looked back to see the eight men advancing on Sandwood as Emory dragged me through into the rear room. He shut the door. This seemed to be an office connected to a kitchen area and a private bedroom. Two women were peeling vegetables.

"Okay," the cult leader said, sitting down in a plush office chair. "Who are you and your friends, who think they can throw us out of here?"

Just then I heard the sound of a fight breaking out in the bunkhouse. There were shouts, and the sounds of heavy blows landing. There were crashes and grunts of pain.

"What's going on?" one of the two women called across.

"Just my boys taking care of a nosy trespasser," Emory said. "Get on with your work."

The crashing and thumping continued, and seemed to be growing louder. Sandwood must be putting up a really good fight, for the sound of blows landing was lasting longer than I expected. Sandwood was certainly tough, but she was only making it harder on herself. In her position, I'd give in quietly. I heard five more blows land. Surely the eight men must have restrained her by now? Were they beating her up?

"What are they doing to her?" I asked.

"They may rough her up a little," Emory said. "We don't take kindly to strangers who threaten us. But they won't hurt her too bad."

But the noise just kept on. There was a huge crash and a deep groan of pain from the other side of the door. Then another.

"What's going on?" Alarmed, I turned and pulled open the door. I gasped.

Sandwood was still on her feet. To my surprise she still hadn't been restrained. In fact she was still standing tall in the middle of the long room, striking out powerfully with her strong arms. I noticed that the bunkhouse was long and thin, so the men couldn't all get near enough to attack her all at once. This had enabled her to hold them off so far. In fact she had seemed to have done more! I saw that three of the men were lying injured on the floor. Somehow, she had managed to take three of her attackers down. Only five of them were still standing!

My eyes widened to see that Sandwood's reach was giving her a huge advantage. In the narrow room the guys couldn't get close enough to attack her together. On the other hand, she could hit the men before they got close enough to do her any damage. And she hit so hard! Each of her punches was appallingly effective.



One of the men swung a wild blow, which Karen swayed to one side to avoid. In the same smooth movement her long right arm powered forward, smashing into its target with immense force. KRRUMMPP! The punch exploded into his face. He staggered backward, blood pouring down his shirt. CRAAACCKK! another punch came out of nowhere, blindingly fast. A second man fell, coughing and vomiting.

"Ouuhhhhh! Ouuuugggghhh!!" Shocked, pain-filled cries filled the hall.

The awesome thing was that Sandwood looked almost unmarked. These guys just couldn't handle her! The men had been too confident, I realised. With eight to one - and a girl at that, they thought there was no threat. But they were ordinary untrained guys, not fighters. And even hardened fighters were generally no match for Karen's speed, precision and appalling strength. Sandwood could hit at least twice as hard as these untrained guys. Her weight training regime ensured that. And she was a lot faster, more practised, and knew exactly where to hit. She still looked full of fight.

"They haven't beaten her!" I yelled back to the leader, hardly daring to believe she could go on.

"Don't be ridiculous," Emory said.

Sandwood turned, looking ever more confident, powering two massive blows into the men to her left. One man fell, badly hurt, another clutched his broken cheekbone. Her arms were so strong, they threw the men about like dolls! I could see the cultists were shocked at the pain and damage Sandwood's huge blows could inflict. Some of them were backing off, clearly not wanting to come in contact with those fearsome fists. But the men's wariness of approaching her was giving Karen even more of an advantage.

Her punches actually seemed to be getting harder as she warmed to her task, gaining confidence from the damage she had already inflicted. Her whole powerful body swung into them. She didn't even look tired. Her power to hit and keep on hitting just wasn't giving out at all! I wondered what these guys had to do to stop her. But she couldn't defeat them all, surely? She strode forward. CRACK CRACKK CRUMMP! Three appalling blows crashed into the remaining four men. There were howls and groans of pain.

A space had cleared around her, injured people lay groaning on the floor. Now she had all the initiative, and seemed able to pick off her targets at will! I saw a grim smile cross her face. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Crackk! CRACKKK! Two more huge punches, and two more men fell bleeding. She turned, delivering another three hard, fast punches One man slumped to the floor, his jaw dislocated and his nose reduced to a pulp, another cried out in pain as Sandwood's fist impacted the side of his head, driving him back. But Sandwood continued to advance into the retreating group, scything her long arms into them with impunity.

I couldn't believe how powerful Karen was. This was turning into a rout! Men were crouching and nursing their injuries or trying to staunch the flows of blood. I was thrilled and astonished.

Suddenly Emory was behind me.. slamming the door.

"They can't stop her!" I yelled.

"Don't be ridiculous. There's eight men out there. They'll have her under control in no time."

I heard three heavy punches and a groan of pain from beyond the door.

"You're finished!" I said. "You'd better let me go!"

A big sequence of five blows and groans sounded very close to the door. Alarmed, at last, Emory turned me round. "What is going on out there?"

His words were interrupted as the door slammed open and a young man backed in. He looked shocked and frightened, blood poured down his face.

An angry Sandwood strode in. There was blood on her top, and spattered along her forearms. But I noticed that none of it seemed to come from her. The only injury I could see on the powerful six foot twoer was a small scratch on her face. She was pumped, and looked really focussed. She took a stride toward the young man and her arm moved. CRUMP The guy fell in a heap, his jaw horribly dislocated.

Emory held out his arms in panic. "You can't.. You couldn't have.."

"Did you think that those eight brainwashed wimps of yours could take me down?" Karen said, her voice husky with effort as her big arms glistened with sweat. "Most of them didn't even get a good blow in. They just gave me a real good workout,, that's all." She flexed her heavily muscled arms, producing a display of rock hard boulder-like deltoids, biceps and triceps.. "I don't think they're going to be too keen to listen to you from now on."

"You bitch!" Emory stepped forward. Sandwood's right arm moved again. I felt the breeze as it passed three feet from my face, on its way to the cult leader. The punch sent him careening backward across the room, stumbling over a stool and on to the sofa. The punch hadn't been a hard one for Sandwood. I estimated that it was only about forty percent of the full force her arm could deliver. But that was enough to damage most people. It produced a deep bruise and a trail of blood from Emory's nose. Emory's positioning was so accurate I knew Sandwood had used the punch as an "organising blow", to direct him across the room and on to the couch.

"Lie face down on the floor, and don't move," she ordered the two startled women. They obeyed.

"That was just a tap," Sandwood turned back to the moaning Emory. "Now I want to know the full details of your cult, where you come from, your leaders, your bank accounts, who finances you - and I want it now."

"I'll tell you nothing!" Emory said. "Those things are the mysteries of the Astral force."

"I think you're going to tell me," Sandwood said. "I've had enough of your mumbo-jumbo." She raised her big arms on either side of her, stretching them out to their full awesome length, and then flexed.

Sandwood's powerful array of muscles was awesome. It sent me to jelly inside, and must have had its effect on Emory - who had now felt their force.

"I can't tell you," Emory said. "The details are on this locked laptop."

"Where's the key?" Sandwood said.

"Here." He held up a small metal key in his hand, then placed it in his mouth and swallowed it. "There!" he said triumphantly.

"That was very stupid," she said. "Now stand up."

"Why?"

"You swallowed something." She reached forward and pulled him to his feet. "Now I'm going to bring it up. I'm not going to lie to you. This is going to hurt - a lot."

Karen's left hand fixed on the cult leader's shoulder, holding him in place. I saw her right hand gather into a fist. It drew back to her hip. Without warning the fist came forward into his midriff.

"Ooooouuuggh!" Emory doubled over in agony, falling onto all fours.

He continued to groan loudly in pain, and then was violently sick. I looked on in alarm as he retched and retched uncontrollably, his whole body spasming and shaking. "I hope you bring it back up this time." Karen kept her big fist clenched as the muscles on her right arm rippled. "I'd hate to have to hit you like that again."

"Please no!" He begged in between gulps and retches, staring in terror at Karen's powerful right arm. There was a huge dark bruise where Sandwood's fist had struck his stomach. He was still retching, quivering and gasping for breath. I was worried.

"What have you done to him?"

"It's not as bad as it looks," Karen said, folding her powerful arms in front of her as she observed him. "Though he's having a bad time. It's just something else that I can do if I want. If I hit someone in the right place with the right amount of force it causes their stomach and gastric tract to go into violent spasms. There's nothing they can do to stop it. It brings up everything in the stomach, but it's intensely painful for the subject - as you can see."

"Oooooouuugghh!" Emory groaned again and again, retching some more, even though there was nothing left to bring up.

All right," she said to him, "Search through that mess and find me the key."

"Wha... What?"

"You heard me. If the key isn't found, we may have to repeat the procedure."

"No. Please." He began searching frantically through the disgusting pile of vomit with his bare hands. He was still groaning in pain.

"How long will this last?" I asked.

"The intense phase of pain and vomiting shoud be over in about thirty minutes - unless I have to hit him again, of course. But the internal bruising is going to give him stomach ache for a few days."

'I've found it," he gasped with relief.

"Good, " she said. " Now give it a wash. She bent, slipped her arms beneath the body of the crouched figure, lifted him up and carried him across to the washbasin, placing him on the draining board.

"Have you got it clean?" she asked as he ran an object under the water.

"Yes."

"Then give it to me."

He handed her the key then gave another groan, bringing up a few more ounces of vomit into the washbasin.

The commune leader was now a broken figure. Karen's one punch had turned him into a cowering jelly. He cowered away from her.

Sandwood picked up the laptop as the cult women looked on.

"I want everyone who can walk to go outside now," she said.

The two women, Emory, and four of the men from the bunkhouse made their slow way out of the building, leaving four men still groaning in the bunkhouse. The tall figure of Karen followed us out.

"Kneel!" she ordered. They knelt. I did too. Karen was so pumped and powerful.

"You're all leaving here now." she announced. "Your bus is waiting a hundred yards down the track, on the other side of a chopped-down tree. When I give the order, you're going to walk down there, get on the bus and drive back to where you came from. Where is that?" she asked one of the kneeling men.

"Seattle," he answered.

"That's where you stop driving," she said. "Wait here."

She walked back into the cabin and picked up one of the men who had been too weakened to walk out of the building. She threw his body over one shoulder, then, bending again, she did the same with another. Straightening, she took them both up off the floor, and carried them out of the building. Sandwood was so incredibly strong! She dumped both men on the ground, with instructions to the others to help them back to the bus. Then she walked back into the cabin and came back out with the other two slung over her shoulders. She followed the other cultists across to their bus with a man over each shoulder, and slammed their bodies in the back. They were helpless to resist. It was like unloading sacks of feed.

The women and men watched, but knew they couldn't stop her doing whatever she wanted.

"Why don't you let us stay?" one of the women asked.

"Because you don't belong here," Karen said. "Now get in the bus and leave. You are forbidden to return. If you try to come back, there's plenty more like me who'll come and deal with you."