The Teenage Sandi Stone - Part 2

Chapter 27 - Diana Nightingale

The next few weeks flew by as winter slowly relaxed its icy grip. Mrs
Stone started to look a lot better - I think it was the regular doses of 
chicken soup, but the doctor might have helped. Sandi trained hard, 
concentrating especially on her upper body strength. She wanted to be 
able to lift that oil drum more easily, and she wanted to improve the 
strength in her hands. She practiced her punching a lot, until when her 
fist struck the watermelon, it burst like a balloon, showering the 
audience with pips, pulp and juice. We added new routines to the act, so 
that she didn't do the same thing every night, but every time, we 
designed the feat of strength so that the men in the audience would 
imagine themselves the subject of Sandi's power. When she bent a steel 
bar double over her thigh, I was explaining that she used this exercise 
to practice bending a man's back over her thigh in the excruciating 
back-breaker that left a man as weak and helpless as a little baby. 

One day in the gym, I watched her practicing her deadlifts; she would 
crouch down gripping the bar, then using the power of her massive 
thighs, she'd stand up, lifting nine hundred pounds. I thought about 
that for a while (I thought about Sandi a lot), and then I came up with 
a new part of the act. We sat eight men on a long wooden bench, and 
Sandi would lift up one end. Because of the leverage (essentially the 
same as a wheelbarrow), it was like lifting up only four men, and if the 
men averaged 200 pounds, that was 800 in total. It looked extremely 
impressive, though, as the eight men rose into the air, lifted by just 
one pretty girl. You have to leave a safety margin for these things; 
maybe some big fat porker would turn up, and we didn't want Sandi to 
ever publicly fail at anything. We did a special once; I got hold of an 
old upright piano, and in front of the audience, Sandi spent half an 
hour smashing it up with her hard, strong hands, tearing it apart until 
there was nothing left but a pile of bits of wood and wire. Sandi said 
afterwards, she really enjoyed that. 
 
We bought a motorbike from the profits. Neither of us were old enough to 
be allowed to ride a bike, but I read the laws carefully, and discovered 
that classic bikes, more than 25 years old, and less than 250 cc, were 
exempt from this rule. So I searched the classic car and bike magazines, 
and hunted until I found a BSA Bantam 125 for sale in good condition. I 
bought it, and on the way home, learned how to ride it. It would do 50 
mph maximum, but it meant transport for us. When Sandi saw it, she went 
absolutely gaga. I'd cleaned it carefully, and polished it well, painted 
a big "SANDI" on the petrol tank. The chrome shone like silver, and the 
red and black paint work looked so dramatic. One day, the weather was a 
bit warmer than usual, and I took Sandi for a ride, out into the 
country, winding it up to full blast. As we bowled along the narrow 
country lanes, I was conscious of a pair of strong arms round my waist, 
and a pair of firm breasts pressing against my back, and I wanted it to 
last for ever. We found a good spot, I leaned the Bantam against a tree, 
and we sat on a groundsheet and took a picnic out of the bike's carrier. 
 
I thought things were going well, and Sandi agreed, munching on an 
entire chicken. One thing, I thought, Sandi had never eaten so well in 
her life, but she wasn't putting on any weight - correction, she was, 
but none of it was fat. A diet that contained a lot more meat, fish and 
poultry was letting Sandi's body develop at an amazing rate. I sat and 
watched her tear a second chicken apart with her fingers, looking at the 
thighs that could crush a can of beans as easily as you might crush a 
table tennis ball. When she'd finished eating, I took my courage in both 
hands, and crawled over to sit on her thighs, facing her. She put one 
arm round my body to help me keep my balance, and said "Bunnikins, it's 
time you had a girlfriend." 
 
Oh no, not that again. I tried to change the subject, but Sandi wouldn't 
have it. "Look at you, Bunny. You've got an erection. You need a 
girlfriend, she'd help you with things like that." Yeah, thanks, Sandi, 
I thought, I already knew I had an erection, and guess why? "You're old 
enough, and you can afford to take a girl out, we're earning enough." I 
looked at her. She was all the woman I ever wanted, big, strong and 
confident. I was small, weak and insecure, and I was perfectly happy 
sitting on Sandi's thighs, her big left arm around me, although I wanted 
to do things to her that I hardly dared to think about. "All the girls 
think you're really cool" Me? Cool? Four eleven, 85 pounds and a brace 
on my leg? Lukewarm would be more like it. "None of the other boys have 
got a motorbike, not in our grade." True. The Bantam was about a tenth 
as powerful as the big Kawasakis that the older boys had, but you 
couldn't tell that from looking at it - it looked like the real thing. 
And then Sandi put me into a state of shock. "I'm your friend, Bunny, 
you know that. I'll look after you." This was more like what I wanted to 
hear. "I've fixed up a date for you.", she said. 
 
My body stiffened, my cock softened. This was *not* what I wanted. 
"Don't you want to know who with?" Sandi said. No, I don't, I thought. 
But I couldn't work out how to explain this - Sandi obviously thought 
she was doing me a good turn. "Diana Nightingale." Oh god, Diana 
Nightingale! Unnhh. My erection came back, and Sandi noticed. "You 
see?", she said, pointing to it. "You like the idea." 
 
Diana Nightingale was in the same grade, and she was exquisite, no 
other word would do. She wore pink fluffy sweaters, tight over her small 
but adequate bust. Her back was narrow, her hips were small and neat; 
she was like a beautiful china doll. She had a tiny waist, and wore a 
belt to emphasize it. And she had the neatest ass. Her face was small 
and fine boned, her eyes were azure and huge. She wore her hair long and 
often left it down below her shoulders, blonde and curling, and best of 
all, she was five foot tall. Five foot nothing. Just one inch more than 
me, one measly inch. I could pretend to myself that she was the same 
height. And she liked being small, so she didn't wear heels, thank 
heaven. She wore soft fluffy sweaters at this time of year, and in the 
summer, she wore thin silk dresses. Diana Nightingale was a soft, sweet 
sex kitten, and she was one of the main fantasies that the boys used to 
drool over, after Sandi, of course. A date with Diana? Oh, heaven. But 
what if I made a fool of myself. 
 
"Sandi, I can't, I mean I don't know what to do, I mean I'll make an 
idiot of myself, I mean she's, I mean ..." Sandi regarded me steadily. I 
was supposed to be intelligent - come on, Bunny, get a grip, I said to 
myself. OK. Problem number one. "When is this date?" "Tomorrow. I didn't 
want to give you a chance to chicken out." "And where am I taking her?" 
"To the Rapscallion, disco dancing." That was where all the kids went, 
no surprise. "You pick her up on the bike, and by the time you've got 
her to the disco, she'll be hot to trot." "Sandi, I can't dance." "Don't 
be silly, it's easy." I pulled up my trouser leg, showing her my brace. 
"No, really, Sandi, I can't dance." "Bunny, have you ever tried?" "No, 
of course not, how far do you think I'd get with this leg? I can hardly 
walk, you can forget dancing." Sandi shook her head, her blonde hair 
flying around. "You don't need the leg. You can dance." "I don't know 
how." "I'll teach you, Bunny, what are friends for?" I nearly lost my 
temper then. Sandi, I don't want to be your friend, I want to be your 
lover, I thought. But then I looked up at her smiling at me, and I 
thought I'd rather have her for a friend than Diana Nightingale in bed, 
and I smiled back, and she gave me a kiss, YES! on the cheek (bummer), 
and we packed up our things and rode back. 
 
That evening, at her house, Sandi taught me how to dance. She was right, 
I didn't need my leg. I could keep my legs pretty much still, just move 
them a little bit, and mostly use my arms, body and head to dance. She 
said I looked a bit stilted that way, but I'd be OK, and no-one looked 
too closely anyway. I practiced dancing until I was exhausted and fell 
onto the sofa. Mrs Stone made us some lemonade, and we sat drinking it 
and talking about my date with Diana. "I want to hear everything, 
Bunnikins. Everything." There's that Bunnikins again - I wouldn't take 
that from anyone except Sandi, but coming from here. I rather liked it. 
I promised Sandi I'd tell her what happened, right from the meeting to 
the goodnight kiss. Uh. Oh. Um. Help. 
 
"Sandi, I've never kissed a girl, I don't know how. Should I kiss her on 
the first date?" The boys I knew discussed this endlessly. There were 
two schools of thought. One lot said, grab whatever you can, as soon as 
you can. The other lot argued that the long term relationship was better 
if you respected the girl. Sandi looked at me like I was being silly. 
"Yes, of course you should, unless she doesn't want to." "How will I 
know if she doesn't want to?" "Oh, Bunnikins, girls have lots of ways of 
telling boys things without actually telling them. If she doesn't want 
to be kissed, she'll offer to shake your hand, or she likes you, she'll 
offer you her cheek." "And if she does want to be kissed?" "Then she'll 
stand facing you, her head held up towards you ..." "Down", I said. "Her 
head will be held down". "You know what I mean, Bunny." 
 
One more problem. "Sandi, I've never kissed a girl. I don't know what 
you do, what you don't do." "Don't the boys talk about that?" "No. It's 
assumed that you're an expert. You can't admit your don't know." "Girls 
talk about that sort of thing all the time." Yeah, well, that doesn't 
help me much. "Come here, Bunnikins, I'll show you." 
 
There are some very big advantages to being friends with a girl. One of 
them is being taught how to kiss. Sandi started me off with simple 
stuff, pecks on the cheek, brushes of the lips. Then she showed me the 
full contact, lips to lips kiss, and the open-mouthed kiss. She showed 
me how to kiss standing up, and how to kiss sitting down. Finally, she 
gave me the advanced course in French kissing, her tongue tasting firm 
and salty inside my mouth, her body rubbing against mine, her strong 
arms round me making me feel helpless with desire. When she eventually 
stopped, she looked down at the small wet patch on my trousers and said 
"Bunnikins, you really do need a girlfriend, you know." I know, and I know 
who I've got in mind. I thought, I wonder if I can persuade her to give 
me a refresher course tomorrow. And I really, really didn't mind being 
called Bunnikins, not by Sandi. "Sandi, one thing?" "Mmm?" "Please, 
don't call me Bunnikins in front of anyone else?" So she laughed, and 
said "Of course not, that's just my little name for you, just for us."

Chapter 28 - A Date with Diana
 
Next day, I called for Diana Nightingale at her home. We had a slight 
problem; in the short skirt she was wearing, riding pillion on a 
motorbike wasn't too practical. But she eventually solved that by 
throwing modesty to the winds, pulling it up round her hips, and 
swinging her leg over. She was wearing light blue panties. At the 
Rapscallion, I parked the bike and we went in. Diana looked gorgeous in 
a silky blue dress, her hair cascading down her back. We made for the 
middle of the floor, and started dancing. I was very glad I'd practiced 
with Sandi last night, partly because I didn't look a total plonker, and 
partly because I knew how to pace myself so I didn't get exhausted too 
soon. 
 
After several minutes, the first problem arrived. The problem was a 
large meaty guy , maybe five eleven (when you're four eleven, height is 
very important) wearing an open shirt, a medallion (honestly, a big 
brass medallion round his neck, like they used to wear in the Olden 
Days) and a disdainful expression. He asked Diana to dance, even though 
I was already with her. I explained to him that she was already spoken 
for, but he ignored me, and said "How about it, chick? Dump this weed 
and groove with me." Chick? Groove? I've never heard anyone say "groove" 
before. Was this guy out of a 50s movie? Diana shook her head, and 
carried on dancing, getting a bit closer to me. I reached out my hand to 
her, and she took it. 

Then Meatloaf grabbed her hand, and bumped me sideways with his hip, 
kind of accidentally, only it wasn't. Unfortunately, when one of your 
legs has a brace on it, you aren't as agile at keeping your balance as 
you might be, and I went over with a crash. What surprised me was that 
he fell down next to me and started to groan in pain, and then a very 
strong hand got hold of my upper arm and pulled me upright, and I 
understood what had happened. By the time I collected myself, though, 
she was nowhere to be seen. I silently promised to thank my unseen 
benefactress. Meatloaf was still on the floor, kind of squirming a bit, 
still groaning, and all curled up in a foetal position. I wondered what 
Sandi had done to him; whatever it was, it hadn't taken her very long. I 
led Diana a few yards away, where we could dance without treading on 
Meatloaf. 
 
"That was Sandi", she shouted. You couldn't talk in Rapscallion, only 
shout. I nodded - I was saving my breath for jogging up and down and 
waving my arms in time to the music - dancing, we call it. We didn't 
have any more problems; I never even laid eyes on Sandi, but I knew she 
must be there somewhere, watching over me. It gave me a very warm, 
protected feeling. Maybe it wasn't so bad to have Sandi as a friend, and 
I still had Diana to look forward to. 
 
Round about eleven, Diana said I should take her home, so I helped her 
into her coat - it was a pity to hide all that good sexy stuff, and I 
kicked my trusty Bantam into life. No wimpy electric start on a BSA 
Bantam, no sir. I stopped outside her house, put the bike on its 
centre stand, and stood, wondering what signals Diana would give me. 
Would she put out her hand to be shaken? No, she did not. Somehow, she 
managed to look up at me, and I knew I was about to kiss a girl for the 
very first time, not counting Sandi, of course. I pulled her towards me, 
her arms went round my waist, and I pressed my lips against hers. A 
small, soft tongue met mine, and a small, soft body came alive in my 
arms. 
 
Diana kissed with her whole body, not just her mouth. It was an 
extraordinary feeling. I suppose I'd gotten used to the idea that a girl 
is big and hard, and very muscular, which is silly, of course. Most girls 
are nothing like Sandi. Diana was soft and yielding, and although 
intellectually I knew she had an inch on me, she felt like she was 
smaller. I kissed her mouth, then worked down to her neck, like Sandi 
had shown me. I brought my hands slowly up as my mouth moved slowly 
down; meanwhile Diana was softly rubbing herself up and down against my 
front. My erection pressed against her skirt, and I could feel her tight 
nipples against my chest. After some minutes, I don't know how many, she 
broke away. "Wow", she said. "Where'd you learn to kiss like that?" 
Sandi, I thought, but had the sense to keep silent and grin. "Do you 
want to come to a movie on Saturday?" I asked. Golly, who said that? I 
didn't even know what was on, I didn't know what Sandi had planned for 
the weekend, I hadn't thought about this at all. "Love to", she said. 
"When will you pick me up?" In for a penny, in for a pound, I though, 
let's go for a Saturday evening date. "Seven?". "OK, see you then", and 
she whirled and ran in to the house. 
 
You know what the inside of a washing machine looks like when it's in 
full operation? That's what it felt like inside my brain. One kiss with 
this dainty, gossamer sweet girl, and I was totally confused, zapped out 
of my tiny mind. It was like the world had changed, and was now an 
infinitely better place. I felt like singing. I felt like dancing. I 
felt like telling my best friend in all the world. So as it wasn't yet 
midnight, I beetled round to Sandi's house and knocked on her window. 
She came to see who it was, let me in, and we sat on her bed and talked. 
 
"Oh, Sandi, thank you, she's lovely." Sandi grinned. "What happened?" So 
I told her all about it, including the kiss, and as I described that 
kiss to her, I could see her nipples stiffening through her thin 
nightie. So I thought, here goes, and said "Sandi, I think I need more 
practice. Could you ..." and that was as far as I got before a body 
pressed against me, as different from Diana's body as rock is different 
to a pillow. A large, powerful mouth covered mine, a large, powerful 
tongue invaded my mouth, and for the second (or was it third?) time that 
evening, I had an erection like a lighthouse. After several minutes, I 
started struggling - it wasn't that I didn't want Sandi all over me, but 
I did need to breathe. She realized the problem, and let me draw back a 
few inches, and I said "Oh, and thanks for dealing with that guy in 
Rapscallion's" Sandi grinned. "That was nothing." I knew she wasn't 
exaggerating. "It was a pleasure. It only took one punch to the gut, and 
he was all washed up." Then I snuggled up to Sandi again, and told her 
how delightful Diana was, and how I'd be seeing her again on Saturday 
night. 
 
"Hang on, Bunny. Saturday's the day of my fight." What an idiot - how 
could I have forgotten. We'd gone down to the big town, St Josephs, to 
the boxing gym there. We'd hung around for ages looking for the right 
person, until eventually I'd found someone to listen to us. Apparently, 
man/woman fights were not something they'd ever done, but I told Sandi 
to strip off, and Mr Grosby had taken one look at her, and agreed to 
arrange a match. "I'll find some appropriate guy", he said. 
 
Anyway, I told Sandi that my date wasn't until seven, and her fight was 
at three, so we'd be able to get back in time, assuming she won the 
fight and I didn't have to take her to hospital or something. So she 
rolled on top of me and tickled me until I was helpless, and I 
apologized for the remark, and she let up and let me snuggle up to her 
again. I closed my eyes - could I call her Sandikins? No, not really. 
But through the grey darkness that you get with your eyes closed, a 
smoky grey cay with smoky grey eyes stalked towards me, as large as I 
was, her fur ruffed out in anger - Phoebe after her prey. She showed me 
her teeth, and I wriggled closer to Sandi. Then a picture of Sandi came 
into my mind, her blonde hair fluffed out, facing this frightening cat, 
protecting me with her powerful body, like a lioness defending her cubs, 
and I knew that Sandi was my big strong lioness, my Golden Amazon. 
 
Chapter 29 - Diana meets Sandi
 
The next thing I knew it was daylight! We'd both fallen asleep in 
Sandi's bed. Her arms were round me protectively, and I was snuggled up 
against her, my head on her breasts. Oh wow, Mom and Dad would kill me. 
I leaped out of her bed, or at least I tried to; it's hard to do that 
when you're 4-11, 85 pounds and a girl who is twice as heavy and six 
times as strong has her arms round you. Sandi woke up and hugged me, but 
I had no time for that. "Sandi - look at the time!" I leaped out of bed, 
successfully this time, ran outside, started up the Bantam, and roared 
home. I sneaked in at about seven, before anyone had realized I was 
absent. At breakfast, Dad asked me how my date had gone, and for a 
moment I thought he was talking about Sandi, but then I remembered 
Diana, and I said "Great!" with a big grin. "I kissed her goodnight!" I 
thought it would not be a good idea to mention the fact that I'd then 
spent the whole night in Sandi's bed. 
 
I was fine at school - I'd actually gotten an excellent night's sleep. I 
was a bit nervous when I saw Diana, but she came straight up to me, took 
my arm in hers, and acted like we belonged together. Well, that was all 
very well, but how would Sandi take that? Diana and I went to lunch 
together at the cafeteria, and I was a worried bunny when Sandi came in. 
She looked across at me, and my sphincter tightened, but she grinned 
when she saw me, and came over and joined us. I suppose, if I'd thought 
about it, since Sandi thought of me as a friend, and remembering that it 
was Sandi that had brought Diana and I together, maybe I needn't have 
worried. Diana wasn't sure what was going on, though; remember the whole 
school thought that Sandi and I were fucking, and I'd done nothing to 
discourage that idea. 
 
After lunch, Sandi went to the gym to build some more muscle, and I took 
Diana to the classroom to explain a few things. "Diana, maybe you 
thought that Sandi and I ... ?" "I don't know, Bunny. I heard you used 
to ..." "Well, it isn't like that, it never was. I used to let people 
think that, because it was convenient for both of us - Sandi isn't 
interested in boys, and I wanted the boys to think that it wouldn't be 
wise to mess with me. We're friends, that's all. Just friends." I 
thought about last night, yeah, friends who spend the night together. 
But it was true, Sandi didn't see me as a sex object, just as a friend. 
And although I didn't feel that way about her, I'd never even tried for 
first base, let alone made it. "But you wear her scarf, Bunny." I looked 
down - I was so used to wearing the square of blue silk round my neck, 
I'd forgotten about it. I thought about it - should I take it off, to 
prove to Diana that I didn't care about Sandi? The thought made my 
stomach clench - I *did* care about Sandi, I cared a lot, even if I was 
just a friend. And I wasn't about to betraye her by taking off her 
scarf. 
 
Then I had a stroke of genius; Sandi had given me two scarves, one for 
spare. The original cheap polyester scarf, and the lovely silk Christmas 
present, which I wasn't going to part with, no way. I was wearing the 
polyester one, so I took it off, reached round Diana, and tied it in her 
hair. Now there were two girls in school wearing a royal blue scarf in 
their hair - I'd explain it to Sandi later. Diana kissed me, somehow 
melting her body around me and making me feel that I was sinking in to 
her. God, but that little girl was soft and sexy. I made Diana swear 
that she wouldn't tell anyone else what I'd just told her, and then I 
had to rush off home to get my silk scarf, partly because I felt naked 
without Sandi's scarf on, and partly because when I explained this to 
Sandi, I didn't want her to start off by feeling betrayed. 
 
That afternoon, I went down to the gym. Sandi was laying horizontal on a 
bench pumping some huge weight up and down, the veins on her arms 
standing out like ropes. I wanted to have a brief but important chat 
with her, so I sat on her hips, and crossed my legs over her stomach. 
"Sandi, it's about Diana" "She's pretty isn't she? I knew you'd like 
her." I watched the weight going slowly up and down; I counted the 
disks. It weighed a bit more than twice what I did. "Sandi, I'm still 
your friend, aren't I? Diana doesn't change anything between us, does 
it?" "Course not, Bunny. And we're still partners." I did the commercial 
stuff, keeping the accounts on my computer, organizing the bank stuff, 
paying the bills; Sandi was the muscle. An unusual partnership, but it 
was working. 
 
"Sandi, you know that everyone thinks that you and me, well, that we, er 
..." "You mean that we sleep together?", she said. I laughed, thinking 
that that was the one thing that we actually had done. "Well, you know, 
Sandi." She sat up. "They think we fuck." Sandi wasn't one to mince 
words. "Yes. Well, I've always let them think that, it means they don't 
mess with me." "Suits me too", said Sandi. "Stops them calling me a 
lesbian." She went back to pumping the weight up and down; it didn't 
look difficult. "Um. I had to tell Diana that we didn't sleep together. 
You know?" Sandi laughed, oh, I love it when she laughs. "But we did!" 
"Oh, Sandi, you know what I mean. We don't fuck. And I swore Diana to 
silence about it." 
 
"Why? I'm not bothered" Sandi said. So I explained to Sandi that a 
general impression that we were going together, did great things to my 
status amongst the other boys, to my ego, and to the number of times I 
got bullied. "OK", said Sandi, cheerfully, "we won't disabuse the world 
about you and me. But how are you going to explain to everyone about you 
and Diana?" 
 
Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive. Was 
that Will Shakespeare, or Alexander Pope? Anyway, I was beginning to 
understand what he meant. She was right. I wanted the other boys to know 
about Diana, so they'd leave her alone (there's a code of honor that 
says you don't touch the girlfriend of someone in the group), but I also 
wanted everyone to think the Bunny-Sandi thing was still going. And just 
as I was trying to figure out how to square the triangle, Diana bounced 
in, and asked me what I was doing this evening. Same as I did every 
evening - I was the barker for Sandi's strong-woman act. 
 
That gave me a bit of a problem. Our extra-curricular activities weren't 
exactly a secret, not with posters all over town. Sandi seemed quite 
certain that we wouldn't have any problems with the Principal, Mr Dixon, 
and I believed her, since she had some kind of hold over him (I still 
wanted to know what, and Sandi still refused to tell me). But I still 
didn't want the entire world to know about the act, and if I kept it 
secret from Diana, she'd start wondering where I went every evening, and 
it wouldn't do our relationship any good. So I told her about "Sandi 
Stone - the strongest woman in the world", and her eyes got bigger and 
bigger as I explained. "Wow", she kept saying, as I explained the act to 
her. And, of course, she wanted to watch it. 
 
So, that evening, Diana was in the audience as Sandi and I did our 
stuff. Well, Sandi mostly, of course, but I like to think that my 
merchandising at the end was pretty important, since that's what brought 
the bunce in. Afterwards, the three of us went to the Moocher coffee 
bar, that was considered pretty upmarket, so we didn't expect to bump 
into any of the kids from school there. But Sandi and I could afford 
extravagances like that. This evening, we'd taken over $500 again. Diana 
couldn't take her eyes off Sandi, of course. Well, I didn't mind that, I 
couldn't either. Doing her act not only got her very pumped-up, it also 
got her sexually aroused. I could always tell when Sandi was on heat, 
her nipples got hard and stiff, and you could see her horniness, 
especially through that halter top. Everyone else in the coffee bar was 
staring at us - I expect it was Sandi's silk cloak with "Sandi Stone - 
the strongest woman in the world" on it that drew their eyes. 
 
Afterwards, I took Diana home, and as we smooched outside her house, she 
couldn't stop talking about Sandi. "I hadn't realized, she's really 
strong, isn't she?" "Mmm", I said, trying to get her entire ear into my 
mouth. "It must be wonderful to be like Sandi, I bet she isn't scared 
walking in the dark alone." Sandi wouldn't even know what you were 
talking about, I thought. "She looks so hard, so muscular. Is she really 
as hard as she looks?" "Harder", I grunted, feeling a bit harder than 
usual myself. "Golly", said Diana. "Do you think she'd let me touch 
her?" "I expect so", I said, doing my best to touch Diana, but finding 
that she seemed quite capable of keeping my hands under control. We 
wrestled for about half an hour, before Diana said it was time to go in, 
so I reluctantly gave her a final kiss and let her go. 
 
Chapter 30 - Diana in the Strong Woman Act

Before I went home, I popped in to say goodnight to Sandi. "Hi, Bunny", 
she said as she let me in. She was doing something with dumbbells, each 
of which must have been about my weight, but she put them down, and we 
sat on her bed and we talked. "Diana really fancies you", I explained. 
Sandi didn't look too concerned. "A lot of the girls do", she said, 
matter-of-factly. She explained that she often got girls rubbing up 
against her body, and she was used to girls getting a crush on her. "It 
doesn't mean anything, Bunny. They seem to get it into their heads that 
I'm like a boy only without the drawbacks. But I'm not; for a start, I'm 
not interested in sex." Didn't I know it. "Anyhow, she wants to touch 
you." Sandi laughed. I thought she was laughing a lot more than she used 
to, proper laughs, with her head thrown back and her body shaking. "I 
bet she wants a lot more than that", she said. "Yes, she can touch me." 
 
She picked up her dumbbells and knelt on the bed while she lifted her 
arms until they were parallel with the floor. Then she slowly lowered 
them again. I counted the disks, did the sums in my head, and worked out 
that each of those weights was five pounds heavier than I was. I sat 
cross-legged on the bed, facing Sandi, as she used this immense amount 
of iron just to give some resistance to her muscles. Up and down, up and 
down she worked her arms, her shoulders looking like some of the boys 
did with their football padding on. I edged closer to her. "Could I 
touch you, Sandi?" 
 
She stopped pumping for a moment, and looked at me. Then she went back 
to her exercise. "What on earth for, Bunny?" Oh god. Wasn't it obvious? 
I felt like it was sticking out a mile, although four inches was 
probably nearer the mark. Courage, Bunny. Faint heart ne'er won fair 
lady. That was Chaucer, wasn't it, or was it Walter Scott? "I've been 
kissing Diana like you taught me, and that's been great, but she kisses 
me with her whole body, you know what I mean?" "Not really, Bunny, I've 
never kissed Diana." "Well she gets up real close, and sort of melts 
into me, but not quite, you know, she sort of rubs herself a bit, and 
squirms a bit. And she's, like, so soft and melting?" Sandi smiled. "I 
don't think I could be soft and melting, Bunny. How about hard and 
solid?" She certainly was that. Well, she hadn't said no, so I moved 
closer again, and reached out to put my hands on her shoulders. 
 
"Sandi, I know Diana wants me to touch her, but I don't know where and 
how. Can I practice on you?" She held her arms straight out from her 
body, a 90 pound dumbbell in each, while she looked at me and thought 
about her answer. Didn't she find them heavy? Had she forgotten about 
them? My heart almost stopped, my breathing certainly did. "Bunny 
Rabbit, you're a wicked, wicked boy, and I know what you're up to." Oh, 
rats. Rats, rats, rats. I suppose it was pretty obvious at that, what I 
was after. What I wanted, more than anything in the world, was to touch 
Sandi, stroke her, caress her erogenous areas, get her sexually aroused 
beyond her ability to exert self-control, and the fuck her brains out. 
She said, "You want to get Diana so worked up she can't say no to you. 
Come here then, Bunnikins, you're my best friend, I'll show you what to 
do to her." 
 
It was 3 am before I left. I was a physical and emotional wreck. Sandi 
hadn't touched me, but she'd showed me exactly where and how to touch 
her, how to stroke and caress her body. And while she instructed me, she 
kept raising and lowering those weights, and as I massaged her belly and 
fondled her breasts, I was aware of two strong arms, each lifting and 
lowering a weight rather more than the whole of me. She showed me how to 
gently bring my fingers down her front, round her waist and up her 
sides, before returning to her breasts and nipples. Sandi seemed to 
enjoy the session, making lots of muffled noises through her closed 
mouth. I wondered how to apply this with Diana - she wasn't into 
dumbbells! 
 
Next day, I gave Diana the good news. "This evening, after the act, at 
Sandi's place, you can feel her muscles. You'll be surprised, she's even 
harder and stronger than she looks." Diana looked pleased, and kissed 
me. "Could I help in the act?" she said. I tried to picture little five-
nothing Diana as a strong woman, and then realized what she meant. Two 
of us selling merchandise to the customers would shift more than one. By 
now, I had more to offer than just Sandi-bent six-inch nails. I had 8 by 
10 signed photographs of Sandi with the oil drum held over her head, 
Sandi bending an iron bar, Sandi looking strong and sexy, and lots more. 
At $5 each, these were a real bargain, but it needed someone to handle 
it. I also had Sandi Stone T-shirts in mind, baseball caps, and I had 
plans for the future. How about the Sandi Stone Hip and Thigh Plan? 
Sandi Stone's Workout Video? We wouldn't actually say that you too could 
look like Sandi, but that would be what everyone would hope. 
 
After school Diana and I went shopping. Eventually, we decided to buy 
her a costume that was just like Sandi's, except maybe a bit sexier. 
Halter and short skirt, but with low heels. I told her that this was to 
emphasize Sandi's height, but actually I didn't want to have to look up 
to Diana. I must say Diana looked delightful in her outfit, a most 
bodacious babe. Diana and I stood at the corners of the stage while 
Sandi did her strong-woman stuff. I still did all the announcing and 
explanations, but Diana handed her the apples, nuts, nails and so on. 
When Diana stood next to Sandi, the contrast between the soft, kittenish 
Diana and the strong, powerful Golden Amazon that was Sandi, was 
extraordinarily effective. 
 
Afterwards, Diana sold photos while I sold the hardware that Sandi had 
bent and twisted with her strong fingers. Diana did a lot better than I 
did; I think the guys just wanted to get a closer look at her lovely 
body. That evening, we all went round to Sandi's to count the take, and 
sure enough, Diana's presence had boosted sales to well over the $1000 
mark. We were all very pleased, and Diana was now an established part of 
the act. 
 
Then Diana looked at me, in a meaningful way, you know the way women 
give you this meaningful look, and you're supposed to guess the meaning, 
and if you don't you're an insensitive brute? I guessed she meant Sandi, 
so I turned to her and said "Er, Sandi?" She looked at me. "Could Diana 
feel your muscles?", which wasn't quite what Diana had asked for, or 
what I'd told Sandi she wanted, but it was close enough. So Sandi flexed 
her arms while Diana ran her fingers over them, and then Sandi flexed 
her tree-trunk legs, and Diana stroked her thighs. Sandi seemed to enjoy 
it a lot, and closed her eyes and almost purred with pleasure, so I 
thought about what Phoebe liked, and while Diana worked on Sandi's 
thighs, I stroked Sandi's belly. It was hard, ridged with muscular 
bumps, completely unlike my own soft stomach. I could hardly believe 
that a girl could be this hard; on her arms and legs, yes, but her 
belly? 
 
After a very long time, Sandi half opened her eyes, and again I was 
reminded of a lioness enjoying the sun. She smiled lazily, and 
stretched, just like Phoebe, and yawned, only Sandi's teeth weren't like 
sharp needles, and Sandi didn't have claws. "Isn't it time you were 
home?", she said to Diana, and we looked at the time, and Diana was 
supposed to be home by eleven, and it was already ten to, so Diana 
quickly put her ordinary clothes on top of the costume, and I took her 
home. We only had time for a very quick snog before she had to go in, 
especially as I could see her parents watching from behind the curtain. 
She told me how grateful she was for the chance to touch Sandi, and how 
much she was looking forward to tomorrow, and we said good night. I, of 
course, was roiling with erotic thoughts; Sandi, Diana, Sandi, Diana, 
Sandi ... I went to bed, and had to stuff a pillow between my legs 
before I could get to sleep. 

Chapter 31 - Sandi fights Charlie Rogers
 
Saturday came round, as Saturday always eventually does. I called for 
Sandi on my Bantam at ten in the morning, and we set out for St Josephs, 
to the Iron Man gym and boxing ring. We were early, but I wanted to make 
sure that we arrived on time no matter what. Twenty-five year old 
Bantams can be a bit temperamental sometimes, and we simply couldn't 
arrive late. But nothing went wrong, so we were in St Josephs at one, 
with a couple of hours before Sandi's three o'clock fight. We visited a 
supermarket, and had a lovely picnic in the park. We fed the ducks, and 
the pigeons, and I couldn't believe how relaxed and unworried Sandi was. 
I asked her about it. "Sandi, you're just about to have your first ever 
professional fight, against an experienced boxer, aren't you nervous at 
all?" "Thanks, Bunny, for reminding me." She frowned. "Yes, of course 
I'm nervous. I don't really know what to expect, do I? I've watched 
these anything-goes matches, and they can be really nasty." "Sandi, what 
if he grabs you by the hair?" "I've thought about that, believe me. I 
thought about cutting it really short, but I know you like it long, so I 
didn't." That was true. The one part of Sandi that you could rely on to 
be soft and gentle, was her hair. Then I thought of another part of 
Sandi that wasn't as hard as the rest of her; firm, and sometimes 
fairly rigid, but not exactly hard. "Sandi, what about if he punches 
you, you know..." "Bunny, I don't know, I just don't know. I'll just 
have to stop him, that's all. I should be OK if he hits my stomach, or 
my chest, but if he punches my breasts, it'll hurt a lot." 
 
I realized that I wasn't exactly helping, so I got closed to her and 
took one of her hands, and kissed it. "Sandi, I'm sorry, I shouldn't 
have started this. Look, when he feels this on him, he'll just crumble", 
and I kissed her hand again. Sandi made a fist, and I kissed her 
knuckles, feeling the hardness and brutality of them. My hands roamed up 
her arm towards her elbow, and I felt the muscles that would drive this 
hard fist into the soft flesh of her opponent, and I felt a bit more 
confident. But still worried. 
 
We got to the gym at two, and Mr Grosby was already there. He reminded 
Sandi that she was on for $500 for a win, $100 for a loss, and got her 
to sign an injury waiver. The money was peanuts - we could get that at 
much less risk in one night at the bar. But I thought it would lead to 
bigger and better things, plus it would be great publicity for the act. 
Provided Sandi won, of course, and I was getting more and more nervous 
about that, as I saw the hulking great brutes strolling around the gym, 
so much bigger and heavier than Sandi. I watched as one of them pounded 
away at a punch bag; just one of those blows would be enough to 
pulverize me to pulp. 
 
The bouts started at three o'clock; Sandi was on first. I guess she was 
just a warm up to the main events, which would be later that afternoon. 
There wasn't much of a crowd; about fifty guys or so had turned up by 
the time the fight was due to start. The ringmaster announced the fight 
and the rules, and I was shocked. If I'd known about this, I would never 
have agreed to it. There would be eight three-minute rounds, anything 
allowed except eyes and genitals (which discriminated against Sandi). No 
gloves, no tapes, just bare hands. But the worst part was, the winner 
would be by submission, except that a submission didn't have to be 
accepted. I looked worriedly at Sandi, but she just stared impassively 
straight ahead. The ringmaster introduced Sandi Stone, five-six and 155 
pounds, the first woman they'd ever allowed to fight, and Charlie 
Rogers, five-eleven and 180 pounds. Her opponent lounged in his corner, 
flexing his muscles and grinning. He obviously thought it was going to 
be a walkover, but as I looked at him, he didn't seem too terrible to 
me. Well, I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley, but he wasn't 
that much taller or heavier than Sandi, and I thought she was probably 
the stronger of the two. The referee took over then, and made then shake 
hands before starting - some curious old custom from the days when 
boxing was a gentlemanly sport. Sandi went back to her corner, faced the 
middle, and took off her silk dressing gown. 
 
The entire hall went silent, and Sandi's opponent looked a bit less 
arrogant. Sandi and I had thought about this - what should she fight in? 
At first, I thought a one-piece and Sandi thought her halter and bikini 
bottom. But as we thought about the sort of impact we wanted to make, 
and the impression we wanted to convey, we realized that there was only 
one outfit that would be suitable. You know how boxers fight in those 
silk shorts? We tried them on Sandi, and they looked a bit silly, sort 
of baggy, but then I had an inspiration. Sandi stood in her corner, 
naked from the waist up, and with a short cream silk skirt round her 
hips that fell to about fourteen inches above her knee. She looked 
spectacular. You could see the large, hard muscles of her arms, and the 
huge terrifying muscles of her thighs stood out clearly under her skin. 
There was absolutely no doubt as to her gender, though; Sandi's breasts 
made certain of that. The skirt reinforced it - Sandi was all woman, and 
wasn't going to compromise. 
 
"Come on, limpdick. Scared of a little girl, are you?" Wow, I would be, 
in his position. But what he didn't know, was that Sandi wasn't as 
strong as she looked. She was a lot stronger, tougher and harder. You 
couldn't tell from just looking at her, how hard and dense her muscles 
were, and he'd never seen her strong-woman act. But he was about to find 
out, the hard way. I hoped. Oh, my Golden Amazon, please be careful. 
 
Charlie danced out to the middle of the ring; Sandi just walked towards 
him. He seemed to be taking her seriously, faking jabs to her head, and 
dancing back and forth. Sandi just kept on walking towards him, her 
hands held in front of her head and breasts. Suddenly he ripped two 
punches out, one to her abdomen, one to her face. She let the first get 
through, and bobbed her head aside from the head shot. The punch in her 
stomach didn't seem to affect her, and I thought of the thick layer of 
muscle I'd been stroking the other night. I couldn't understand why she 
wasn't fighting back - she just carried on walking towards him. "Is that 
the best you can do, limpdick? Can't even hurt a little girl? Have 
another go." 
 
Charlie was still dancing on his feet, little hops forward and back, 
like you saw in boxing matches. Sandi stood calmly, waiting for 
something. I couldn't see the point of all that wasted motion, either. 
Then his fists flicked out again, left-right-left. The first two were 
feints to the head that Sandi ducked, the third was a solid blow to her 
side; I heard his fist thud against her body. But Sandi didn't seem 
affected; she just tossed her hair out of her eyes, and lowered her 
hands, putting then on her hips. "Come on, hit me properly, not like 
that. Can't you throw a proper punch at me? Look, I'm waiting." And she 
smiled at him, standing there with her legs apart, her breasts thrust 
arrogantly forward, and her belly inviting his fists. 
 
At first, he danced around her; she just turned and watched, a big grin 
on her face. "This is supposed to be a fight, not a dance. I get a 
better fight on Saturday night at the disco", she said. Then he uncorked 
a roundhouse at her stomach, and I winced in anticipation of the effect. 
Sandi just stood there and let it happen - his knuckles made contact 
with her flesh, and there was a cry of pain. But not from Sandi. He 
backed away and held his fist in his other hand, and just then, the bell 
rang for the end of the round. 
 
I handed Sandi a bottle of water, she didn't want anything else. "I 
didn't realize how easy this was going to be, Bunny. He punches like you 
do!" Thanks, Sandi. I couldn't remember ever punching her, I'm not 
stupid. But I knew what she meant. "I'll finish him next round." she 
said. I thought rapidly. "Hang on, Sandi. If you do that, it'll be over 
too fast. Think of the next fight; we want a big audience and a big 
purse. Could you make it last a bit, give them something that will make 
them want to come back for more?" Sandi's big, steel- grey eyes looked 
into mine. "Sure, Bunny. What have you got in mind?" "Well, make a bit 
of a match of it. He hits you, you hit him, you know the sort of thing?" 
"First time I hit him properly, he's going down and staying down. He 
looks too soft to me, he doesn't look like he could take very much." 
"Then don't hit him properly, Sandi. Pull your punches, or whatever. 
Make a match of it." Sandi looked thoughtful. "Blood?", she said. I 
nodded. "How about making him cry?" I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. 
She could, too. The bell rang for round two. 
 
Sandi walked towards Charlie; he was still dancing to and fro, and he 
back-pedalled, but Sandi just ploughed on towards him, following him 
round the ring as he retreated. "What's the matter, big strong man 
scared of a little girl, is he? Stop running away from me, so I can hit 
you." He ducked and dived, pranced and danced, but eventually, Sandi had 
him in a corner from which the only escape was past her. She moved 
towards him. He punched at her head and missed, then at her breasts. She 
brought up an arm to take the blow, then got hold of his wrist with her 
other hand. She pulled him towards her by his wrist, then used his arm 
like a whip to snap him across the ring. I expected to see him slam into 
the ropes on the other side of the ring, but Sandi held on to his wrist 
as he flew past her, and brought him up short with another yank on his 
wrist. There was a terrible crack as something broke inside his arm, 
Sandi let go, and he sank towards the canvas, his face grey with pain, 
and his arm dangling uselessly by his side. 
 
Sandi walked towards him as he knelt, and stood over him, grinning. 
"Come on, stand up so we can get on with this. I want to hurt you, hurt 
you lots more. That was just the beginning. I've got lots of things I 
want to do to you." He whispered something I couldn't hear. Sandi shook 
her head, "No, you can't give up, I haven't finished with you yet. 
We've only just started." He looked pleadingly at the referee, but the 
ref shook his head. A submission doesn't have to be accepted. "Stand up, 
limpdick. Stand up and fight like a man." He lay there, afraid of the 
girl he couldn't hurt when he had both his arms, afraid of what she 
could do to him when he only had one good arm. Maybe if he stayed on the 
canvas she'd let him give up? Sandi squatted down so that his head was 
close to her thighs, the silk of her skirt failing to cover the huge 
muscles that bulged from her knees up as far as you could see. She 
whispered something to him, I couldn't hear what. He whimpered, and used 
his good hand to get to his feet. Sandi stood up and smiled happily. She 
took his good hand in one of hers, and I could see her arm muscles flex 
dangerously. I knew that Sandi's hand, that could crack a brazil nut and 
bend six-inch nails, was crushing the man's bones as they stood there. 
She let go of him, and as he sank moaning down to the ground, the bell 
rang. 
 
"What did you say to get him to stand up, Sandi?" She smiled at me, and 
I thought of how a mouse must feel when the cat shows her teeth. "I told 
him that my thighs are my strongest muscles, and if he wanted to feel 
how strong my thighs were, all he had to do is stay on the canvas, and 
I'd give him a demonstration." I looked down at Sandi's legs, and I 
could see how that threat might make a man face the lesser of two evils. 

Chapter 32 - Sandi fights Charlie Rogers, Round Three
 
The bell clanged for round three, and Sandi strode into the center of 
the ring, completely dominating the arena. Charlie cringed in his 
corner, not wanting to face the terrible man-smashing machine in the 
middle of the ring. I couldn't blame him - myself, I'd have legged it a 
long time ago. Sandi waited a few seconds, her arms folded under her 
breasts, then she shook her head impatiently, and marched towards 
Charlie. He raised his good arm to try to protect his head, but Sandi 
just grabbed it, and pulled him towards the middle. "OK, sweetiepie", I 
could hear her say. "You're about to become a blood donor." He tried to 
pull away, but Sandi pulled him towards her with one hand, while her 
other fist pistoned out, landing on his nose with a splat you could hear 
across the entire room. Blood poured out from his broken and flattened 
snout, all over his face, his body, his shorts and onto the canvas 
floor. I could even see a few splatters on Sandi's cream silk shorts, 
and I tried to remember how you got rid of bloodstains. Then Sandi spend 
the next couple of minutes pretending to hit him in the belly and ribs. 
I say pretending, because if she'd been doing it for real, there's no 
way he'd have stayed upright. She was mostly doing it for effect, to 
make it look like there was still a fight going on - actually, the fight 
had stopped a couple of rounds ago. The bell rang, she let him go, and 
he sank to his knees, huddled up in a small tight ball. His cornerman 
coaxed him back to his stool, and tried to repair the worst of the 
damage. 
 
When Sandi came back to her corner, I wiped the blood off her knuckles, 
gave her a drink, and then she got her hairbrush and spent the remainder 
of the rest period brushing her hair. Sandi *never* spent time brushing 
her hair, so I knew she was acting again. While she was doing that, I 
was thinking about Phoebe, and the way she tormented birds, mice, 
squirrels - Sandi was exactly the same, but on a bigger scale. "I'll 
make him start crying, next", Sandi decided. "I'll make it loud enough for 
the audience to hear. Give them a good show."
 
When the bell rang for the fourth round, Sandi wasted no time. She 
strode up to Charlie, and pulled him to center stage again. She gripped 
his good hand in hers, and went down on one knee, draping Charlie face-
up over her other knee. His back lay on her broad thigh, and she pressed 
down on his chin and his thighs, bending his back the way backs aren't 
meant to go. I heard him let out a shrill scream, "No, I give up, you're 
breaking my back ...", and Sandi chuckled "I know, that's the whole 
idea, sugarplum. I'm going to turn you into a vegetable." She leaned 
over him so that he got a good view of her naked breasts, and her hair 
brushed erotically over his body. She pressed harder until his high-
pitched screaming started again. I looked round the room, and every eye 
was on Sandi, with total concentration on what this female destroyer of 
adult males was doing. Every time his screaming stopped, Sandi bent him 
a bit further over her knee, until I couldn't believe that a human spine 
could be curved so much and not snap. Eventually, the bell ended her 
torture, but not his agony. She pushed him off her thigh, and he lay on 
the ground, writhing feebly. His corner man didn't bother to help him - 
he was past any help. 
 
"I think he's ready to start crying now", she remarked. I thought he was 
probably ready to meet his maker by now, and I wondered if Sandi 
shouldn't stop now, before she went too far. I didn't dare say it, 
though. I could see the blood lust in her eyes; she wanted to really 
hurt this unfortunate guy, just because he was unlucky enough to have 
volunteered to fight her. 
 
The fifth round started, and Sandi just walked over to the pitiful, 
bloody, twitching mess on the floor, turned him over onto his back, and 
lifted him up. She hung him on the ropes, at a convenient height, 
hooking his arms over the top rope, and went to work on his good arm. 
She took his hand in both of hers, and twisted. He tried to scream, but 
the effort was too much. "Do you give in?", she said. I heard something 
come out of his mouth, but I couldn't hear what. Sandi twisted harder, 
brutally. "Do you give up?", she repeated. I heard him say yes, but 
Sandi wanted more. "I can't hear you, speak up", and she rotated his 
wrist even more. "Please, no more, I can't take any more." Sandi smiled, 
and once again I thought of Phoebe playing with a mouse. "I think you 
can", she said, and the torque she exerted on his arm lifted him off the 
ropes. He fell onto the mat, onto his knees, but Sandi didn't let go. 
"How much more can I twist this, sweetiepie? Can you feel this?" His 
face ground against the mat as she lifted and contorted his arm. "No, 
please - I can't, you're breaking it ..." The bell rang, and Sandi 
strolled back to me. 
 
"These rounds don't last very long, do they?", she said. I rubbed her 
down with a towel; there was a thin sheen of perspiration on her body. 
The towel was soft and fluffy, Sandi was hard and her body was ridged 
with muscles and veins. I enjoyed rubbing her down, and she did too - I 
could see from the way her nipples perked up. When the bell rang for 
round six, she said "See you in a few minutes, Bunny." 
 
Charlie saw the amazon man-crusher coming, and got down on his knees, 
his face near her feet. "Please, don't hurt me any more, please, I'll do 
anything", he sobbed. Sandi reached up to her hair and took off her blue 
scarf. She crouched down next to him, and knotted it gently round his 
neck and stood up. "Charlie, that's my scarf. From now on you'll wear it 
always, understand?" Charlie, kneeling abjectly by her feet, nodded. 
Sandi took his wrist again and twisted, not too hard, just enough to 
remind him of the pain that would follow. "What did you say? Say it 
loud" "I'll wear it always." "Good. You never, ever take it off, not for 
anything. And if anyone ever asks you why you wear it, you'll tell them 
that this is Sandi Stone's symbol of total domination, you understand?" 
"Yes, Sandi, I understand." "OK, stand up" "I can't, I hurt too bad, I 
can't stand." "Charlie, you see these thighs?" "No, please, not that, 
you'll kill me." "Quite possibly, yes. Stand up, Charlie." He struggled 
to his feet; Sandi helped him quite a lot, and he stood there, swaying, 
trying to stay upright in spite of the debilitating pain in his arms and 
back. Then, with one swift pull, Sandi ripped his boxing trunks off, and 
his groin cup, leaving him naked and defenseless. But before she could 
do any more, the bell rang. "Now you wait right there Charlie, 
understand?" "Yes, Sandi." he replied, submissively, and began to cry.
 
Sandi came back to her corner. I was fingering the blue scarf round my 
own neck - maybe I was beginning to understand something. I asked her. 
"Sandi, this scarf ..." She turned to me, and her cold grey eyes 
flashed. For a moment I was scared, but then the Sandi I knew returned, 
and she smiled warmly at me, put a finger on my lips and said "We'll 
talk about it this evening, Bunny. After your date with Diana." Golly, 
I'd completely forgotten about my date with Diana - that seemed to be in 
a different world. Then the bell rang for round seven, and Sandi told me 
that this would be the last round. 
 
She smacked his face with her open hand, wanting him to be aware enough 
to suffer the pain to come, and his nose started to spurt blood again. 
She lifted him up from behind, and laid him across her back. Her 
powerful arms pulled his neck and thighs down, arching his back even 
further than before. He started screaming immediately from the 
unbearable pain, but he was totally impotent to do anything about it. 
She walked round the ring, showing the audience her helpless victim, 
shaking him from time to time to increase his agony. The blood flowed 
from his nose, and the tears from his eyes as every man in the audience 
gazed, terrified but fascinated at the incredible power of the woman who 
had totally destroyed this man. She pulled down harder as his body 
yielded to the dreadful pressure, bending his back more and more into a 
shape that only a contortionist could manage. I thought she was going to 
snap his spine and cripple him for life, but after a couple of minutes, 
she swung him round and down, so that he was standing on his feet. I say 
standing, but in fact it was only the fact that Sandi has her arms round 
him that kept him upright. "Do you submit?", she said softly, her mouth 
close to his head. "Yes", he whispered, and Sandi said "I accept", and 
dropped him, a crumpled, broken wreck onto the ground. 
 
She stood over him, her arms flexing and showing off the tremendous 
muscles that had just destroyed a fit, healthy man, 25 pounds and five 
inches bigger than she was. The men in the audience applauded in a 
restrained way, but I could see that the few women that were there were 
clapping enthusiastically. 
 
Sandi put her robe back on, and we met Mr Grosby in his office. He 
handed Sandi an envelope, which she passed to me. I counted it, $500. 
"That was a jolly good show you put on there", he said. Show, I thought? 
She's put Charlie out of action for several months, maybe even crippled 
him for life, and he calls it a jolly good show? But Sandi was grinning 
like a Cheshire Cat who'd gotten the cream, and wanted to know when she 
could fight again. "I'll be in touch", said Grosby. "I have to line up 
an opponent, book a hall, do the publicity - next time, we'll do this 
big, really big." I gave Grosby my email address, and we left. I was 
worried about this, about several things. But now was not the time to 
raise my concerns, I'd talk to Sandi later. 
 
We tried to talk on the way back, but it's hard to have a conversation 
with someone behind you on a Bantam. I dropped Sandi off at her house, 
and tried to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. She could 
see something was up, and took my small soft hands in her big hands; I 
could feel how callused they were from the iron she worked with. I 
looked up at her, and saw those warm grey eyes regarding me patiently, 
but I couldn't say what I wanted to. "Bunnikins", she said. "Yes?" "Come 
and talk to me after your date with Diana. Promise?" "OK, Sandi", and I 
got on the Bantam and roared off. 

Chapter 33 - The Saturday Night Date with Diana
 
Saturday night, and I had a date with Diana, the girl who more boys 
lusted after than any other. I shaved - not that I needed to, but it 
felt like a macho thing to do. I put on my best glad rags, including a 
pair of shoes I'd bought because I liked the size of the heels; "Cuban", 
they called them, and the extra inch and a half helped quite a lot, I 
thought. I wore pressed pants, a lime green shirt, and round my neck, 
Sandi's blue scarf. I thought about this, but I decided that the 
possibility of offending Diana was easily outweighed by the extra 
security it gave me. No-one messed with Sandi, not even once, not since 
she'd stopped bothering about covering up her body at the school gym. I 
put on my new leather biker's jacket and practiced scowling into the 
mirror; I didn't even convince myself. 
 
I picked up Diana from her home. I could see her parents watching 
disapprovingly from behind the windows. What did they think I was, some 
sort of tearaway Hell's Angel? I thought of telling them that a Bantam 
only does 50 mph, full throttle with the wind behind, but I guessed they 
wouldn't be interested. 
 
Diana looked like a teenager's wet dream; long blonde curling ringlets, 
beige satin blouse, and a skirt that must have been about fourteen 
inches above her knee. Sandi could do that and just look strong and 
hard, but Diana was much shorter, and fourteen inches above her knee was 
practically her waist. Still, Diana had long legs for her height; they 
seemed to go on and on and on, and I thought the phrase "legs up to her 
armpits" was devised with Diana in mind. She was wearing make-up, too, 
something else that Sandi didn't bother with, and some kind of perfume 
that caused my groin to stir. And low heels. I guessed that Diana would 
normally have worn high heels with an outfit like that, but she was 
staying low on account of me. I towered above her in my Cubans, I had at 
least half an inch on her, which was most excellent. 
 
First, the movie. It was something exciting, with lots of cars getting 
trashed, but I can't remember what it was about. We sat in the back row, 
and I was more into Diana than the movie. We didn't wrestle, exactly, 
but it certainly seemed like we had more than two pairs of hands between 
us. Whenever I got my hands on anything good, she'd retaliate by putting 
her hands on me, and a few times we almost ended up on the floor. 
Afterwards, I asked Diana if she'd followed the movie, and she laughed, 
and said "Hardly". Yes. I felt pretty hard, too.
 
Diana had a light, high laugh, that started on high C and went up to a 
high G, then to C above high C. She shook when she laughed, and when 
Diana shook, she jiggled deliciously. I thought of Sandi's low musical 
chuckle, about two octaves below Diana, like a bass saxophone. Diana was 
more like a piccolo. Sandi shook when she laughed, but she didn't 
jiggle. Aren't girls marvellous? 
 
I asked Diana why we'd bothered to go to a movie that neither of us 
watched, but she looked at me like I was being silly again. "We can't do 
much in my house, my Dad thinks I'm too young for boys". Too young? She 
was sixteen, how old do you have to be to snog in the front room? But 
then I thought about inviting her to my place, and the thought of my 
parents listening carefully from the kitchen made my lust shrivel 
instantly. Diana was right, if you're a young teenager, movies and 
discos are the only places you can go where it's dark and a bit private, 
although not very. Private enough, though, as I could see several other 
couples doing much the same as Diana and I. 
 
Afterwards, I was terribly terribly sophisticated, and took her to 
Moochers, where we dined on something small with too much sauce on it, 
and afterwards we drank bitter Italian coffee, and pretended we were 
enjoying it. Well, I certainly wasn't, and I guessed Diana didn't 
either. Then I took her home, and we had a goodnight cuddle sitting on 
the Bantam. They have a good, strong center-stand, and you can put the 
bike up on that (I could only just manage to hoick it up there, and I 
thought of how Sandi could probably lift the entire bike over her head 
if she wanted to) and sit facing each other on the dual-seat. Not 
ideal, but needs must. When the twitching of the curtains got too 
imperative, Diana ran inside, and I roared off on my bike. I had serious 
fish to fry. I had to see Sandi. 

Chapter 34 - Bunny tells Sandi about DIana
 
I let myself in, using the key that Sandi had given me, and went to her 
room. It was late, and by the bright moonlight I could see that she was 
asleep in bed. I thought of leaving, and then I thought that she'd given 
me very specific instructions to come by this evening. "Sandi?", I 
whispered. Her eyes opened and she smiled a big, warm smile. The 
moonlight spilled over her bed, like a torrent of silvery light, and I 
could see her soft grey eyes with the long eyelashes. She sat up in bed, 
and the sheet fell away from her body, catching on her nipples for a 
moment before falling to her waist. She was amazing, and I couldn't have 
looked away if I'd wanted to. "Hi, Bunnikins", she said, and held her 
hands out to me. 
 
I stepped towards her, and she took my hand in hers and pulled me on to 
the bed. I sat down, and turned to her. "How did your date with Diana 
go?", she asked. "It was great, Sandi, but can we talk about something 
else first?" "Sure", she said, and she got out of bed completely and 
sat, cross-legged, on the quilt. She was totally naked, and it didn't 
seem to bother her in the slightest. It bothered me, though. There were 
a lot of things that bothered me. For a start, her breasts bothered me. 
They were large and firm, and they didn't seem to know about gravity. 
Her nipples looked hard and erotic, and I ached to touch them with my 
fingers. They rose and fell fractionally as she breathed, and I watched 
the rhythmic movement for a long time. Then I looked down, at the hard 
stomach which was far from flat. My stomach was flat; Sandi's was bumpy; 
ridged with more of the muscle that covered her entire body. My eyes 
moved further south, and encountered the dark mystery of womanhood. It 
was dark no longer; illuminated by the light of the silvery moon, I 
could see that it was as blonde as the hair on her head. Still, even 
though she was naked and cross-legged, the essential mystery remained. I 
knew on a theoretical basis what was down there, but her thick thatch of 
hair concealed the enigma within. I wanted to reach down and explore 
with my fingers, but that would be an unthinkable invasion of my Golden 
Amazon's personal space. 
 
In that position, she was at the same level as I was, an unusual 
situation for me. I looked up and met her eyes; dark grey, smoldering, 
unfathomable. I'd never really gazed into her eyes before, and it felt 
as if I was being drawn into a quicksand. Gradually, everything faded 
from my vision except Sandi's eyes, like soft pools of mercury in the 
moon's rays. I couldn't move, I couldn't talk, I couldn't think. Sandi's 
eyes were my entire universe, and nothing else mattered. Sandi must have 
felt the same magic, because she kept motionless, only the gentle rise 
and fall of her proud breasts breaking the perfect stillness. 
 
Then she blinked and shook her head, her hair flying around - "Bunny, 
what's on your mind?" I'd intended to have a row with her about this 
afternoon, which I'd regarded as perfectly appalling. But as I looked at 
her, I knew that I loved her, loved the powerful animal that had torn 
her prey apart, then played with him until the final destruction. How 
can you be angry with a cat for killing a bird, for torturing a mouse? I 
lacked the strength of will to risk making her angry, and I loved her 
too much to criticize her behavior. A Golden Amazon is a Golden Amazon. 
 
So I edged closer to her on the bed, closer and closer until her breath 
tickled my hair, and she turned to me, and wrapped those long, powerful 
arms round me, and held me close against her hard body, and rocked me in 
her arms. "Bunny, Bunny, what's the matter?" 
 
"About the fight this afternoon, Sandi, four things". She licked my ear, 
and I wasn't sure if I had the willpower to continue. But we Rabbits 
don't give up easily, so I borrowed some strength from the woman who 
surrounded me with a wall of muscle and continued. "First, it was 
morally wrong". "What was?" "What you did, hurting that guy like that. 
It's wrong to hurt people." "Not always, Bunny, sometimes it's right." 
What? No way! How could it ever be right to hurt someone? "Here's an 
example, Bunny. When Charlie got into the ring with me, he knew that one 
of us was going to get hurt. He didn't have to fight, it was his 
decision, and adults can decide things for themselves." "But he wasn't 
expecting to get put through a meat-grinder, Sandi!" Sandi laughed at 
the description of her as a meat-grinder, but I'd seen the guy as they 
carried him out, and meat-grinder actually wasn't a strong enough 
expression. "Bunny, the script for that fight called for a pretty young 
girl to be smashed to a bloody pulp by a man 35 pounds heavier and five 
inches taller. It just went the other way round, that's all." I thought 
about this. I guess that when someone goes into a no-holds-barred match, 
they know there's a risk. "I'll give you two more examples, Bunny." 
 
For the next hour, I shivered and shuddered in Sandi's arms while she 
told me the gruesome, horrid story of her stepfather, of how he'd beaten 
her when she was a small child, and used the threat of more beatings of 
Sandi to force her mother into prostitution. And of how she'd finally 
hurt him enough to make him leave her and her mother alone. Then she 
told me an even worse story, of how as a thirteen-year-old girl she had 
been brutally gang-raped by six boys, and how she'd later smashed one of 
them to a broken ruin, enslaved another, and terrorised the rest. By the 
time she was finished, we were both crying; Sandi at the recollection of 
these traumatic events, and me at the thought of the pain and suffering 
that she'd been through. "And now, Bunny, whenever I'm threatened by a 
man who is either taller or heavier than I am, something snaps inside 
me, and I completely lose control. In fact, I'm not really aware of what 
is happening, it's like someone else has taken over, and I can only 
watch. And this other person wants to tear him down, humble him, destroy 
his arrogant male ego. And she's completely ruthless. It isn't that she 
doesn't care how much pain she causes, no, she wants to inflict as much 
agony as she possibly can. She keeps him conscious so that he can feel 
his body being destroyed, and she keeps telling him that he's being 
smashed up by a little girl so that he can feel the fear of her big 
muscles and the humiliation of being mangled by a female." 
 
I snuggled closer to my Golden Amazon. For the first time in my life I was 
glad I was short, glad of my slight build, almost grateful for the polio 
that had stunted my growth. "But Bunny, next time I get into a ring with 
a man, he'll know exactly what the dangers are; he'll know what happened 
to Charlie, and he'll step into a meat-grinder of his own free will." I 
couldn't argue with that - if anyone was stupid enough to take on Sandi, 
well, they say that the universe imposes the death penalty for the crime 
of stupidity. 
 
"OK, Sandi, I'm convinced on that ..." and she gave me a little hug " 
... but I'm still worried about the legality of a fight with a no-
surrender condition." Sandi frowned. "I don't know anything about the 
law, Bunny. But surely they wouldn't have such fights, and have them in 
public, unless it were legal?" I hadn't thought about that. Good point. 
Still, I intended to visit a library and look up the law on public 
fighting in this state. "What else, Bunny?" 
 
The third thing was maybe already answered. "Sandi, I was worried about 
the psychological damage to you. It must be bad for you to inflict so 
much damage on another human being." Sandi looked away from me, with a 
fixed, far-away stare, staring at a scene that was played six years ago. 
"Too late, Bunny. Much too late. If someone is male, and bigger than me, 
I want to smash him, trash him, tear him apart, make sure he can never 
look at a woman without a feeling of terror. But you know, somehow, 
while that is happening, it isn't me. It's like there's someone else 
inside me, and she does all the damage." I could see how she felt, and I 
could see why. I stroked her hair, her long, silky hair, the only soft 
part of Sandi. She turned to me, but she looked so sad, so forlorn, as 
if she knew that she could never be a normal woman; doomed to eternally 
avenge the transgressions of her step father against the ten-year-old 
Little Sandi. 
 
"Last thing, Sandi". She held my shoulders in her hands. This one was 
the most difficult for me to say. "Sandi, I'm frightened for you." "What 
do you mean?" "Sandi, I'm scared that one day you'll step into the ring 
with a man who can beat you, or you'll make a mistake, and you'll get 
hurt, badly hurt - oh, Sandi, I couldn't bear it if they carried you out 
to hospital like they did Charlie." She nodded. "I know the risk, Bunny" 
She wasn't reassuring me, though. "Sandi?" "Everyone thinks they can't 
be beaten, Bunny. But I've got good reasons to be unafraid. You know how 
strong I am. And it isn't just the muscular strength to cause pain and 
damage; my muscles protect me from harm. You saw how Charlie's best 
punches didn't even hurt me. I'm going to be very, very hard to beat, 
and it's going to be very difficult for a man to stand against me. I 
didn't punch Charlie, except on his nose, did you notice? I didn't need 
to. If I'd punched him with all my strength, the fight would have been 
over there and then. And look at my thighs..." I looked down, and 
stroked them with my hand. They were huge and hard, each one bigger than 
my body. Great columns of pure power, and I imagined how it would feel 
to be trapped between them as they closed, like being in a car crusher. 
"I don't intend to ever actually use my thighs to cause pain and damage, 
only to terrify and dominate. Any man who sees my thighs will know that 
at all costs he has to keep from being trapped between them, and that 
fear will push them into making terrible mistakes, and erode their will 
to win. But if I have to, if I get into trouble, I'll can wrap my thighs 
round a man's body, stop him from being able to breathe, crush his ribs 
to small pieces, and pulp his internal organs to mush. And that will end 
any fight. No, Bunny, the combination of the layer of muscle covering my 
body, and the power of my arms and legs, make it highly unlikely that a 
man could even hurt me, let alone beat me." 
 
I sat there with my back nestled against her body, conscious of the hard 
breasts digging into my shoulders, her long, thick legs curled around 
and surrounding me, her arms wrapped round me, and her hands gently 
stroking my rather fine, downy chest hairs. I shut my eyes; surely it 
couldn't get any better than this? Sandi held me, telling me that she 
was my best friend "And you're my best friend, Sandi, my beautiful 
Golden Amazon!" and I gradually relaxed. "So how did your date with 
Diana go?" 
 
I told her how lovely Diana was, and how soft and sweet and sexy, and 
how heads turned when she walked by, and how lucky I felt taking her out 
on a Saturday night date. I told Sandi how we'd fumbled and groped in 
the cinema, and how we'd eaten something with too much sauce in 
Moochers. Sandi laughed as I told her how we'd then drink horrid bitter 
Italian coffee and pretended to enjoy it. "And then I took her home, and 
came round here. I told my parents not to expect me until the small 
hours of the morning." Sandi grinned, and said "You're staying the night 
with a friend, right?" and I found myself lying on my side next to her, 
the quilt covering both of us. I cuddled up close. She was warm, and I 
was comfortable. Sandi didn't feel hard at all; quite the opposite, and 
I wondered why in the moments before I fell asleep. Her arms were round 
me, and I buried my face in her body, and whispered "My Golden Amazon..."
 
Chapter 35 - Valentine's Day
 
A week later, I went round to Sandi's house, and found her in the 
basement. She had an impressive array of equipment; but they were all 
essentially machines for providing resistance to her muscles, so she 
could work and develop them. The strong-woman act was doing quite well, 
and we could afford to get the things she needed. She was also eating 
better than ever before in her life - at last, Mrs Stone could afford 
red meat, fish, fresh vegetables and all the other things that build a 
strong, healthy body. Sandi was lifting some mammoth pile of iron up and 
down, up and down, and I didn't even bother to work out how much - I 
knew it was probably several times my weight. 
 
"Happy Valentines day, Sandi", and I gave her a card and a small parcel. 
"I didn't think friends gave each other Valentines", she joked. She 
opened the card, and read it to me. "Roses are red, Violets are blue, 
The world's strongest woman, My love goes to you". She looked up, smiled 
at me, and reached across and kissed me. "Come and see this, Bunny". She 
took me upstairs to her room. She'd put strings across from wall to 
wall, and there, hanging on the strings, must have been about a hundred 
Valentines. I was astounded. I knew that most of the boys at school had 
Sandi as their number one fantasy, but this? I thought, better get this 
fan club up and running as soon as possible. "Aren't you going to open 
it?", I asked, pointing to the parcel. She unwrapped it, carefully, and 
unfolded the contents, holding it up for us both to see. "Bunny, it's 
beautiful, it's lovely", she breathed. "I've never seen anything so 
lovely in all my life". Sandi didn't wear pretty-girlie clothes, but I 
had a theory that deep down she'd really love to. I'd gone to a lot of 
trouble for it; I'd enlisted Diana to help me, and we'd gone shopping 
for it together. Unfortunately, Sandi's not a standard size, and we 
wanted something really special, so eventually we'd had it made to a 
design that Diana had found. Sandi held it up against her body. It was a 
creamy satin, and went beautifully with her hair. It was appliqued with 
lace, and trimmed round the skirt with more lace. "Put it on, Sandi". 
She stripped off her training clothes, and pulled it over her head. It 
came down to just below her crotch, so the whole of her powerful thighs 
were visible, and it was sleeveless, so her big shoulders and muscular 
arms stood out. The silky satin clung to her like a second skin, 
caressing her full breasts before falling in a shower of soft silk to 
her hips. "No, Sandi, it's you who are beautiful, you're a great 
powerful Golden Amazon". 
 
She walked towards me, and said "Bunnikins". She kissed me properly, 
ducking her head to get down to my level. Then she said "This is the 
wrong way", and she put her arms under mine and lifted me up, so that I 
was a few inches higher than she was, and she lifted her face up to me 
and kissed me again. "Ugh, I hate taller men" she said, and put me down 
again, but she was smiling as she said it. She didn't let go of me, 
though, and pulled me onto her bed, into her arms. "And I've got a 
Valentines Day present for you, Bunnikins." 
 
I was helpless to resist her - Sandi Stone was about twice as strong as 
a full-grown, normal man, and about six times as strong as me. Not that 
I had any reason to want to resist. But she didn't ask me what I wanted, 
she just started undressing me. She wrapped those powerful thighs round 
my soft body, and I hoped she wouldn't use any of her strength, as there 
was no way I could survive being crushed between those man-crushers. But 
she just used them to hold me in place while her strong hands roamed 
over my body, stripping me naked. She rubbed me against her body; it 
felt soft with the silky feel of the satin she was wearing, but 
underneath I could feel the hardness of Sandi's inflexible muscles. She 
held my wrists over my head in one big hand, while her calves gently 
trapped my legs and held them immobile. She pulled my hands up and over, 
laying me down with my back on one of her broad thighs, and stretched me 
out so that I was entirely helpless in her grasp. "Now you know what it 
feels like to wrestle with me, Bunny". Not quite; I wasn't delirious 
with pain, I was moaning with anticipation. 
 
She bent me back slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make my 
genitals totally exposed to her hands. She brought my hands down behind 
my back until they were at the top of her thighs, and locked them in 
place by tensing her inner thigh muscles. This gave her both hands free 
to roam over my genitals and body. A big, hard, callused hand gently 
gripped my penis, and it was all I could do not to ejaculate there and 
then. 
 
It's hard for me to describe what happened next, because my memory is 
confused. I can't remember exactly what she did, or how she did it, but 
she kept me strung out across her thigh, stretched and bent with her 
calves gripping my legs, and her upper thighs trapping my hands. And 
while she held me gently but helplessly, she touched me, stroked me and 
caressed me, sending fire up through my nerves into my brain. My mind 
knew nothing but the extraordinary pleasures that her hands were 
delivering. I orgasmed almost immediately, or at least I would have done 
if Sandi hadn't done something to stop me. Well, she half stopped me. 
The sensations of orgasm flooded through my body, but nothing escaped. 
Somehow, Sandi was making me come, but without letting me come. I'm not 
sure exactly what it was she did, but I felt a pressure inside me that 
grew and grew, that couldn't be released, yet which pulsated my body 
into transports of delight. I felt her hard hands wandering over my 
body, hard and callused yet somehow soft and gentle. Her soft hair 
cascaded onto my chest as she leaned over me, and if I tilted my head 
back as far as I could, I could just nuzzle on two friendly breasts, 
with their nipples begging to have my tongue roughen them. 
 
Again and again she made me climax, but I could feel a firm hand 
clenching my genitals, not permitting a drop to escape, preventing the 
ultimate release. I screamed as much as it's possible to scream with a 
mouthful of breast, I twisted and squirmed in her forceful grasp, trying 
to escape from her terrible, rapturous hands. Sandi held me securely 
within her grip, allowing me to move a little, allowing me to make 
muffled noises of passion and joy. I was no longer a human being, just 
an animal. Reflex and instinct had totally replaced rational thought; 
Sandi was my universe; Sandi's body was my world, Sandi's hands were all 
that existed for me. 
 
Eventually she must have decided that I'd had enough - certainly I had 
no choice in any of this. I felt as if something erupted in my groin; 
the initial detonation was followed by a much bigger explosion, and then 
a third, even bigger, hit me like a thunderbolt. I must have screamed at 
that point, I don't remember, because something warm and soft came down 
and covered my mouth. After that, my body jerked and spasmed at the 
echoes of the initial blasts reverberated through my body, until all my 
strength was spent, and I could no longer find the energy to move. 
 
Sandi released me from her gentle bondage, and pulled me round to lie in 
her arms, my face against her satin-covered body, my body still shaking 
a little from the excessive demands she'd put onto me. She stroked my 
hair and rocked me gently, and I put my arms round her and wished the 
moment could last for ever. After a while, I stopped shaking and 
shivering, and lay quiet in her strong arms, and she leaned back to look 
at me with her calm, grey eyes, and said "Happy Valentine's, Bunnikins". 
 
I had been a virgin. I had been worried about getting laid; worried 
about whether I'd be able to find an attractive, sexy girl, about 
whether any attractive girl could want sex with a shrimp like me, and 
worried about whether I'd be able to perform when the time came. My 
Golden Amazon took all my fears away that wonderful Valentines day. 
 
I fell asleep almost at once, and didn't wake up for hours. When I did 
wake up, I found myself in Sandi's bed, but no Sandi. I yawned and 
stretched, and remembered what had happened, and a rosy glow filled the 
room. The same rosy glow filled my non-virgin body, and I thought how 
lucky I was to have a friend like Sandi. My cock felt numb from the 
overdose of sensation it had recently experienced, and when I looked 
down at it, I found that Sandi had tied her blue silk scarf around my 
genitals. I considered taking it off, but decided that obviously I was 
meant to keep it on. I went downstairs to her gym to tell her how 
wonderful she was, and what a great friend. 
 
She grinned as I came in. "Feel better?" Golly, I felt better than at 
any time in the previous sixteen years. I sat and watched as she did 
sit-ups, her hands behind her head holding some heavy dumbbell, her 
ankles hooked under another one. I once tried to see if I could do that 
even without any weights - I reached the count of eight and couldn't 
continue, and the next day, it felt like a horse had kicked me in the 
stomach. I have no idea how many Sandi did, I don't think she was 
counting either. But I was happy, just being in the same room with her 
and watching her. "About this scarf ..." I asked. She sat up and looked 
at me. "Keep it on. Wear it sometimes, and think of me." "Sandi, I'll 
wear it every day." She smiled with pleasure. "You're the only person 
I've ever given two scarves to." "Three, actually, remember the 
Christmas present?" Sandi laughed and went back to doing sit-ups. "That 
doesn't count, it was just a replacement. Now you can wear two scarves, 
one high and one low." I wondered what Diana would say when she 
discovered a woman's silk scarf at the place that Sandi had installed 
it, if we ever got to that stage in our relationship. And I thought, 
I'll just say it's Sandi's scarf, and she'll understand. 
 
Chapter 36 - Sandi fights Bull Wattis

At the beginning of March, Sandi's second fight was scheduled. Diana had 
insisted on watching, so the three of us travelled down to St Josephs in 
a taxi hired for the occasion. I'd negotiated a much better prize purse; 
instead of the $500 that Sandi won for smashing up Charlie, I'd demanded 
$5,000 for the services of the only woman around who could make 
mincemeat out of any male opponent. Mr Grosby tried to get me down, 
offering $2,000, but I pointed out that if he got an audience of 500, at 
$50 per seat, he'd make $25,000. And without Sandi, he'd get zip, just 
two more men whaling away at each other. 
 
On the way there, Diana kept trying to ask Sandi about the upcoming 
fight. Sandi didn't seem too interested, so I answered most of Diana's 
questions. Her opponent was Bull Wattis; they called him bull because of 
his appearance. I showed Diana a photograph; a big, squat man, his head 
seemed to flow directly into his body without any neck in between. He 
was six two, 265 pounds, and looked like it was all muscle. He'd never 
been beaten, and Grosby told me to tell Sandi not to hit him in the 
body, because he didn't feel pain, and not to hit his head, or she'd 
break her fist. When I relayed this to Sandi, she just laughed, and said 
"All men feel pain, you just have to hit them hard enough and often 
enough." Diana asked me how Sandi, eight inches shorter and more than 
100 pounds lighter, could hope to defeat this mountain of muscle. "He 
doesn't stand a chance", I said, hoping that it was true. "Yes, but 
how?" she asked, and I had to admit that I didn't know. Sandi just gazed 
at the scenery flying past the window. I gazed at Sandi, hoping that 
this lovely girl, my best friend, my favorite person in all the world, 
wasn't about to get her first defeat. She seemed confident, but I 
thought that Bull probably felt the same way. He'd seen what Sandi had 
done to Charlie, and he was still willing to fight her. I didn't like 
the sound of that. 
 
There would be just one round, and it would end when the fight ended. 
There were no rules, none at all. Submissions, of course, didn't have to 
be accepted. The fight could only end in an accepted submission, in 
unconsciousness, or in death. 
 
When we arrived at the hall he'd booked, I was surprised how big it was. 
I estimated that we had a crowd of 1,000 - Grosby had been doing some 
major advertising, and Sandi's treatment of Charlie had been very 
convincing. And he hadn't charged $50, the cheapest seat was $100. 
Grosby was going to make a bundle out of this, no matter what happened 
to Sandi. Another thing I noticed - whereas the previous crowd had been 
almost entirely male, there were a lot of women in the audience, nearly 
a third. I'd thought that women didn't like to watch fights, but my own 
little Diana was practically bouncing up and down in anticipation. 
 
Bull Wattis climbed into the ring first, and jumped up and down a few 
times. The whole ring shook from the impact - hell, the whole hall 
shook. He wore a one-piece outfit and wrestling boots. I thought about 
Sandi underneath those boots, and I closed my eyes. I thought, it's not 
too late, we can pull out now, run for the car, get the hell out of here 
while Sandi was still in one piece. She must have seen my worried look, 
because she smiled at me, her large grey eyes full of confidence. "Don't 
worry, Bunny. I can handle him. Help me here." I helped Sandi take off 
her silk dressing gown. She didn't need my help, of course, she was just 
trying to give me a boost. 
 
She turned and faced the audience, and as they stared at her magnificent 
body, the noise died down to a murmur. Sandi wore her short silk skirt, 
just covering her pubes, and nothing else apart from the leather 
coverings on her knuckles; her large firm breasts stuck out like erotic 
offerings, aimed at every man present. Each man must have wondered what 
it would be like to have sex with a woman of her obvious sexiness, 
strength and vitality. She turned to face Wattis, and he leered at her. 
"Nice tits", he said, "I'll have those." Sandi smiled, like a cat smiles 
at a canary, and said loudly and clearly, "After I've broken most of 
your bones and ripped your tendons, after I've spread your blood all 
over this ring, after I've made you cry like a little baby in pain and 
terror of my big strong body, then I'll rip your balls off and force you 
to swallow them." I wasn't sure if she meant it; Sandi used lines like 
that just to scare people. Fortunately, it wasn't my balls that were at 
risk - my balls were safely tied up in a bright blue scarf, under my 
trousers. 
 
"Bitch, you think you can stand up to this?", and he shook his fist, as 
large as a ham. I thought one blow from that and any man would run and 
hide - even seeing it from that distance made me scared. Sandi laughed - 
I think she was really enjoying herself. I think the bigger and heavier 
a man was, the more she liked to taunt and humiliate him. "Little baby, 
do you think you can stand up to these?" and she lifted one leg high, 
until her foot was over her head. Her thighs swelled with the tension, 
until they bulged horrifyingly. "If I get you between these, it's just a 
matter of how flat I crush you. No man has ever stood up to the crushing 
force that I can apply with my thighs, and no man ever will. You better 
try to stay away from these, or you're finished. Your bones will bend 
and shatter under the pressure, your body will soften to butter, you'll 
spend the next six months in hospital as they try to shape the hamburger 
meat back into some semblance of a human being." I thought she was going 
over the top, but Sandi's thighs spoke louder than words, and I could 
see that she was making an big impression. 
 
"Two men have died in the ring with me", he said. "I'm going to make it 
two men and a little girl". Sandi threw her head back and laughed; she 
wasn't pretending, she really did find it funny. "I've killed more men 
in bed, just fucking them to death", she said, laughing. The crowd 
laughed too, but remembering what she'd done to me, I could almost 
believe it. 
 
The bell rang for the start of the fight, and I climbed out of the ring. 
There was no referee, because there were no rules to apply. Bull Wattis 
was a big, heavy man, and he didn't dance on his toes like Charlie had, 
he lumbered. I had the impression of a Sherman tank rolling forward, 
ready to crush anything in its way. Sandi, quite deliberately, walked 
into his path, raising her hands. Bull carried on walking forward, 
pushing Sandi back against the ropes with his big muscular body, 
outweighing her by a hundred pounds. Sandi hit him, her fist hooking 
round to his side. Bull ignored her, and raised his hands, putting them 
round her throat. Sandi brought her hands up inside his, breaking his 
hold, then ducked under his arms and circled round behind him. Before he 
had a chance to turn, she drove a fist into his kidneys. He didn't seem 
to notice. 
 
I was getting a bad feeling about this. Sandi's punches were having no 
effect, and she was on the retreat. He advanced, she moved back. Her 
fist flashed out, hitting his head. He stopped, shook his head, and 
continued forward. Sandi moved back and sideways, trying to stay clear 
of the killing machine in front of her. She punched to his head twice 
more; after the second time, she shook her hand, as if her fist hurt. 
Sandi's best punches just bounced off the man-mountain. I feared for 
what he might do to her when he got hold of her. "Use your legs on him, 
Sandi", I yelled, but the crowd was making so much noise, she wouldn't 
be able to hear. Diana sat next to me, and spoke in my ear. "It isn't 
going too well, is it?" she asked. "Just wait, she'll get her thighs 
round him and he'll be finished", I said to her, but I didn't convince 
myself. 
 
Sandi got herself trapped in a corner, and the Bull waddled happily 
towards her. Then, she put one foot behind her on the corner post, and 
drove herself forward with all her strength. And I could see her fist 
moving, starting from her waist, driving forward with all the force of 
her arm, shoulder and legs behind it, until it finally buried itself in 
Bull Wattis's gut. He stopped, his mouth open in surprise, and his body 
bent forward. Sandi collected herself, and pushed herself off the corner 
post again, for another devastating punch to the stomach. Bull took a 
couple of steps back, from the force of the blow, and swung a good-night 
punch at Sandi. She stepped back out of his reach, then did her dive-
punch again. This time, she really hurt him, the man whose body didn't 
feel pain. He stepped back, away from the corner, so that she couldn't 
hit him a fourth time, and considered his options. I don't think he knew 
how to handle an opponent who could actually hurt him. 
 
Sandi didn't give him a chance to think; she just followed her instincts 
and went for the kill. The pain in his belly muscles had weakened them 
enough for her punches to cause him further pain without any forward 
body momentum, and her arms flashed like pistons as she worked over his 
lower gut. He tried to defend himself with his arms, but her punches 
went through them as if they weren't there, until finally he tripped 
over his own feet, and fell to the ground. 
 
Sandi went back to her corner, and leaned on the ropes. I bounded up 
with a bottle of water for her, which she gratefully took, watching the 
Bull out the the side of her eyes. "He's tough, Bunny. Tougher than I'd 
imagined." "Use your legs, Sandi. Crush him with your thighs." I knew 
that no man, however tough, could endure the power of Sandi's thighs. 
But she shook her head. "Remember what I said, Bunny? My legs aren't for 
damaging men's bodies, they're for terrorizing and dominating. I want 
them to be a threat that no-one has ever seen carried out, because the 
threat of the unknown is the most frightening of all. I want men to look 
at my thighs and wonder what would happen if I ever used them. No, I 
don't need my legs to beat this one." 
 
Chapter 37 - Sandi Destroys Bull Wattis

Bull got himself ponderously off the ground. "You were lucky this time, 
bitch. No more mister nice guy now. I'm gonna fuck you up bad" Sandi 
shook her ponytail back, and stretched her amazon body seductively; 
several men in the audience lost their self control. "You couldn't even 
fuck me good, how you gonna fuck me bad? You've never met a real woman 
before, all you've ever fought is soft limpdicks. Your prick is so small 
and soft, it takes you five minutes to find it when you take a leak. The 
only way you can ever get it up, is when one of your little nancy-boys 
gives you a blow job, and even then you only last ten seconds." 
 
I couldn't imagine where she was getting this information, afterwards, 
she told me she made it up. But it had the desired effect; he put his 
head down like his namesake the bull and charged across the ring, 
flailing his sledgehammer-like fists as he went. I thought that if just 
one of those caught Sandi she'd be done for, but I needn't have worried. 
She stepped to one side, grabbed his right wrist as he went by, and by 
adding a sideways vector to his forward rush, swung him into the corner 
post. He bounced off, looking dazed, and fell to the ground again. This 
time, Sandi followed him down, keeping hold of his wrist, and using it 
to make sure that he fell face down. 
 
He bounced when he landed, and before he could move, Sandi had twisted 
his right arm up behind his back in a hammerlock. She was sitting on the 
canvas, his head face down between those mighty thighs, tearing his arm 
further up his back. But she made no attempt to take advantage of Bull's 
appalling vulnerability to her thigh muscles; instead she simply used 
her big shoulder muscles to pull his arm further and further up his 
back. He couldn't move forward or do anything else to relieve the 
terrible pressure on his right shoulder, because his head was jammed 
into Sandi's crutch. I could hear his screams, muffled by Sandi's 
genitals as she savaged his shoulder, trying to tear his arm off. He 
could only reach her with his left arm, and he blindly groped with his 
hand, hoping to find something to get hold of. 
 
That was a big mistake. After tearing the muscles and tendons of one 
arm, Sandi was quite happy to release it and work on the other one. She 
released the damaged arm, and started to work on his good left arm. She 
twisted and pulled until I could see that the angle his arm was at, 
could not be possible for a normal person's range of movement. But Sandi 
kept on pulling and pulling, and when his enfeebled right arm flopped 
into range of her grip, she let go of the left and started work on the 
right again. Bull let out a high-pitched scream of despair as he 
realized that she could keep this up as long as she wanted. He flopped 
uselessly, trying to get free from the man smashing machine that he was 
trapped in. 
 
I think Sandi could have finished him there and then. But the larger and 
stronger her male opponent was, the more she wanted to weaken, humiliate 
and dominate them. She could have extracted a submission from him, she 
could have crushed his skull between her thighs. But she did neither of 
these. Instead, she released him, stood up and strolled to her corner, 
where I offered her a towel and a water bottle. 
 
Bull lay face down on the mat, groaning and trying to move his arms. 
Sandi smiled at me brightly, and said "This is fun! He can take so much 
pain, I'm having a great time. He's so big, and so helpless now, I can 
do anything I want with him. He won't be able to use his arms for hours 
and hours." She rubbed her face with the towel, and strolled back to 
Bull, who had managed to struggle on to his knees. "Party time, sweetie-
pie", she said, and bent over, putting her hands under his arms. She 
straightened up, and he rose with her, but when she stopped rising, he 
went on up, until she was holding him face up, over her head. The crowd 
gasped at the sight of this lovely teenage girl holding a 265 pound man 
over her head. She looked around the crowd. "Shall I smash him?" she 
asked. "YES!" roared the crowd, hungry for another man's pain. So, she 
didn't just drop him, she hurled him down, smashing his big body into 
the hard floor. His head struck with a sickening crack that you could 
hear above the thud that the rest of his body made. He bounced a few 
inches, then lay still, his arms and legs splayed out. 
 
Sandi brushed her hair from out of her eyes, and retied the scarf that 
kept her ponytail in place. Diana turned to me and took my hand in hers. 
"She's got him now, hasn't she?" "Yes, Diana, the rest of it is just 
Sandi hurting a big strong man so much that he can never look a woman in 
the eyes again." Sandi picked Bull up again, and lifted him straight 
over her head. Again, she threw him crashing to the canvas. He lay 
there, his limbs twitching out of control, his body spasming with the 
pain. "You're not so tough now, are you big boy? You still want to fuck 
me bad?" She turned him onto his face, and lifted his wrists, pulling 
hard in a butterfly hold. Sandi stood on the small of his back; his body 
was so weakened by pain that he couldn't do anything to stop her. Her 
arms swelled with straining muscle as she used the leverage of his arms 
to tear the connecting tendons and ligaments of his shoulders, making 
them useless for a long, long time. Some of the damage she was doing 
would stay with Bull for the rest of his life, and I thought of my own 
weakened limbs and felt sorry for the man who had fed himself into a 
meat-grinder. She pulled and relaxed, pulled and relaxed, and the crowd 
started to chant in time with her efforts. "San-di, San-di, San-di". At 
first, I could hear the whole crowd chanting, but then I could hear that 
the higher pitched voices of the women were much louder. I looked round 
at Diana - she was standing and shouting with the rest, her face flushed 
with excitement. My little, gentle Diana was enjoying the cruel 
spectacle as much as anyone else. All I could feel was relief that my 
Golden Amazon was not going to get hurt in this fight. 
 
Sandi released Bull's arms, and they flopped down to the mat like dead 
meat. But she wasn't finished with him. She pulled him up once more, and 
from behind him, she wrapped her arms like thick steel cables round his 
big body, under his useless arms, and round his middle. Then she 
tightened her grip, and I knew that his abdomen was coming under 
unendurable pressure. The pain in his body made resistance impossible, 
and his flaccid muscles simply yielded to her strong arms. He couldn't 
breathe, and after a few minutes his head flopped forward. Sandi felt him 
sag in her arms, and relaxed enough for him to suck in a little air, 
which revived him. As soon as his eyes were open again, Sandi closed 
them by crushing the air out of him. 
 
For many long minutes her iron muscles controlled his ability to 
breathe, and each moment of consciousness was an eternity of pain and 
fear. Bull knew that this pretty blonde could kill him with just her 
arms, if she wanted to. But Sandi wouldn't let a man escape her clutches 
so easily, just as Phoebe wouldn't let a mouse die until she'd had her 
fun. She'd shown him pain, lots of pain. He had met fear, faced it, and 
been conquered by it. Now it was time for humiliation. She turned him to 
face her. His arms were like dead meat, his legs needed Sandi's help to 
keep him upright, his body had known the torment of oxygen starvation, 
and couldn't face any more. All that kept his mind from snapping was his 
willpower, and Sandi knew very well how to break that. 
 
She'd explained it to me once. "Bunny, men are all cock and ego; 
actually it's the same thing. Break one and you've broken the other. 
I'll show you one day, I promise." Today, Sandi was keeping her promise 
to me, but even more she was keeping faith with the ten-year-old Little 
Sandi who had been so abused by her step father, the first big, strong 
man in her life. She turned Bull to face her, and ripped off his shorts, 
then his groin-cup. His penis was small and shrivelled. Sandi lifted it 
up and showed it to the audience. "This thing's so small, it's like a 
little pencil stub!" I felt sorry for Bull, and my own cock shrivelled 
in sympathy. I looked round the audience, the women were yelling 
themselves hoarse, but a lot of the men sat silently stunned. "Shall I 
tear it off?" she asked. Surely she wouldn't? The women screamed "YES, 
YES, YES", and someone started the chant of "San-di, San-di, San-di" 
again. I could hear Bull begging, pleading, imploring Sandi not to 
castrate him. She took a firm grip on his genitals, and started to pull. 
I knew those hard hands, but I'd only ever felt their gentleness on my 
delicate sexual organs. Bull was feeling the incredible pain that only a 
woman filled with hatred and loathing can inflict. He started crying, 
but couldn't do anything to protect himself. "Shall I rip this useless 
thing off him?" she asked the crowd? "San-DI, San-DI, San-DI" the women 
screamed. Sandi turned to Bull and sneered at him contemptuously. "You 
remember I told you I'd rip your balls off and force you to swallow 
them?" Bull wept uncontrollably. "Please, I'll do anything, I beg you." 
"Who's the strongest?" "Oh, you are Sandi, you are." Sandi smiled. "And 
who's a soft mushy pudding?" "I am, please don't hurt me any more. Oh 
please, please don't take my balls. Please, I'm begging you. I'll do 
anything you want." The tears streamed down his pitiful face; I couldn't 
watch the nauseating spectacle of this big man begging for his balls. 
But I couldn't not watch either. Sandi smiled; I couldn't believe the 
savage cruelty on her face. 
 
Sandi asked the audience again - "Shall I make his body useless for 
ever?" "SAN-DI, SAN-DI, SAN-DI" the women shouted, so loud I couldn't 
hear my pounding heart. She turned back to Bull. "Noooo!!" he wailed, 
sinking to his knees. Sandi lifted him back into her arms, mercilessly 
mangling his gonads with her hard, horny hand. "I'll do a deal with 
you." She took off the scarf from her hair, and wound it round his prick 
and balls. "From now on, these are mine, I own them." "Yes, Sandi, 
anything you say, whatever you want. Please don't hurt me any more, I 
hurt so bad.", his tears streamed freely down his face. He no longer had 
any pride, just a burning need to be free from pain, free from fear, and 
free from this dominating muscle woman who held his life in her hand. 
"You wear my scarf here, always, for ever, never take it off." "Yes 
Sandi, I'll do whatever you say, you're my owner, please don't hurt me, 
the pain, it's so bad" Sandi tied the ends together, and I thought of my 
own blue scarf, gentle enclosing and protecting my own genitals, 
acquired with extreme pleasure instead of nauseating pain. 
 
Then, she lifted him up on to her big, broad shoulders, and bent his 
back in a back-breaker hold. His big arms dangled loosely, uselessly as 
she pulled down savagely on his neck and thighs, curving his spine and 
bringing new waves of white-hot agony to his body. At first, his screams 
of suffering competed with the crowd's "SAN-DI, SAN-DI, SAN-DI". Sandi 
held him easily, like a sack of flour, her arms straining his body into 
an impossible curve. Each time he thought the pain had peaked, she 
showed him that it hadn't by bending his back a little more. Sandi's 
muscles overcame the adhesion of his spinal vertebrae, crushing the 
gristle between the bones of his spine. A few people experience the 
incapacitating agony of a slipped disc; Bull was encountering the unique 
and acute anguish of fourteen slipped and crushed discs. As the voice of 
the crowd grew louder, the pain in his spine and the fire in his lungs 
weakened Bull's cries until they were barely audible. After about 
fifteen minutes of the most horrible suffering, Bull was almost 
unconscious from the grievous, debilitating pain. Sandi had one more 
pleasure left. 
 
Sandi held Bull easily on her shoulders - all the discomfort was his. 
"Quiet", she shouted to the audience, and there was a sudden stillness 
in the auditorium. "Quiet, now" she spoke softly to an expectant crowd. 
Her powerful muscles tensed and expanded as she applied herself to the 
culmination of the fight. She pulled Bull's thighs and throat down while 
her hard shoulders bowed his back into an arc; harder and harder she 
pulled, contracting the big, hard muscles of the body I loved to touch, 
until suddenly there was a crack, a crack like a breaking plank, like a 
snapping tree branch. Bull's spine was broken. She tossed him 
contemptuously to the mat, and stood on his broken body like a lioness
on her kill, daring any man to challenge her, any fool to offer his weak 
body to be mangled and broken by the big, dominant, female man-breaker. 
 
Chapter 38 - Sandi, Bunny and Diana

That evening, there was no question of taking Diana out on a date. I 
wanted to be with Sandi, and so did Diana. And Sandi felt horny, too. I 
could tell, just looking at her nipples on the way home that the fight 
had aroused her sexually, that destroying Bull had turned her on and she 
wanted to have sex with someone. I was only worried about whether my 
strength would be enough to give her the sexual relief she so obviously 
needed. I knew that I was no match for her physically - no man was. But 
would I be able to handle her sexually? In the car on the way home, I 
became certain that I didn't stand a chance. But I could see one 
possibility, one tiny chance that maybe my Golden Amazon could be made 
happy, or at least content. And that was if Diana helped me. 
 
I knew Diana found Sandi very attractive; Sandi had told me that a lot 
of girls felt that way, and Diana had told me herself. I looked across 
the car at Sandi. If her nipples stood out any more, they'd tear through 
her shirt, and Diana was looking at Sandi like a dog looks at its 
owner. Sandi was breathing hard through her nose, Diana was bouncing up 
and down with excitement, and the atmosphere was so electric, I could 
feel the electrostatic literally sparking against my cock. 
 
Actually, that wasn't the first time. Silk is notorious for being a good 
generator of static electricity, and as the tiny sparks from Sandi's 
scarf discharged themselves through my groin, I wondered if she knew 
what she'd done to me. Probably - Sandi seemed to be so in control all 
the time, I guessed that she knew exactly the effects of tying a silk 
scarf round a man's genitals. 
 
I moved closer to her in the car, and beckoned Diana, on the other side 
of Sandi, to do the same. I started stroking Sandi's upper arms, moving 
my hands up as far as the shoulders that had just destroyed Bull Wattis. 
Diana understood, and started doing the same on her side. Sandi closed 
her eyes, arched her back, and almost purred with pleasure. I thought of 
Phoebe; Sandi was a great powerful cat, a man-eating tigress, a Golden 
Amazon who preyed on men and boys. But as long as we kept her supplied 
with victims, she would be satisfied. As the car sped back to Salt 
Mountain, I could see the driver watching us through the mirror, and I 
wondered if he realized what he was looking at, whether he knew that he 
was watching the worship of a goddess of annihilation. 
 
By the time we got to Salt Mountain, both Diana and Sandi were in a 
state of high arousal - I was pretty far gone, too. We hurried out of 
the car and into Sandi's house, raced for the bed room, where Diana and 
I almost tore Sandi's few clothes off her. We practically threw her onto 
the bed (Sandi wasn't exactly resisting) and Diana dived between her 
legs, while I lay on her belly and worked on her upper body. I touched 
her breasts, licked her nipples and stroked her shoulders. Every part of 
Sandi that I could reach was an erogenous zone, and I handled her body 
gently but firmly. She started to buck and squeal; I could see that she 
was trying to control herself, but the combination of four hands and two 
tongues was too much for even Sandi's iron will, and before long she 
began to orgasm. I could hear her climax about to arrive, and I thought 
of Diana between Sandi's legs, in a place threatening great danger. 
Without stopping my attack on Sandi's nipples, I pulled Diana up to help 
me - just in time, because when Sandi came, her legs pressed together 
and her arms squeezed us all in an uncontrolled spasm of strength. 
 
Diana and I didn't stop just because Sandi had started to come; one 
thing that Sandi had taught me is to get as much out of your partner as 
possible. Once she's started to orgasm, that's the time to make it 
faster and harder, to bring her to higher and higher levels of rapture. 
By the time Sandi stopped screaming and shaking, we were all exhausted, 
and Sandi's nipples weren't hard and stiff any more. 
 
"Wow, guys, that was something else", she said, cuddling both Diana and 
myself to her big bosom. I burrowed into Sandi's side, one of her arms 
protecting me and keeping me safe and warm, while Diana nuzzled one of 
her breasts. Sandi sat up, then looked down at Diana and me. "Bunny, 
you've still got an erection, and Diana, your nipples are stiff, you 
look like you're ready for sex. I'm taking a shower now, you two guys 
fuck each other's brains out while I'm gone." 
 
Sandi stood up and left. I looked across the bed at Diana, and she 
looked back at me. Sandi was right, putting her big hard body through 
its paces had left Diana and myself both in a state of extreme arousal. 
And, dammit, Diana was supposed to be my girlfriend, wasn't she? Sandi 
was right; it was about time we fucked. I looked at her, she looked 
modestly down, and I crawled across Sandi's bed to get to her. We 
undressed each other, not with the urgency of the encounter with Sandi, 
but slowly, gently and lovingly. Diana was small and beautiful; her 
breasts weren't big, but well shaped, and tipped by dynamite nipples. 
Diana unzipped my fly, pulled down my trousers and said in amazement 
"What's this?" I started explaining about Sandi's silk scarf, but she 
interrupted me and said "No, silly, I recognize that, what's the iron 
thing?" Oh. My brace. So I explained to Diana about the polio, and about 
how I couldn't do what other boys could do, and she said "That isn't 
what I heard". "Eh?" "Sandi told me that you could do anything that any 
other boy could do, only a lot nicer and better and sexier." Oh, I see 
what you mean. Bless you, Sandi. Well, I certainly intended to do my 
best on Diana. "But I can't run, and it's hard to walk, and I can't 
throw properly, and I have trouble lifting my arms higher than my 
shoulders. Diana, please, you won't tell anyone about the brace? You 
know what kids are like." Diana told me it would be our secret "Sandi 
already knows, of course" and helped me take it off. And when Diana 
untied the knot in Sandi's scarf and slowly pulled it away from my 
genitals, I nearly lost it right then and there. I closed my eyes, 
gritted my teeth and thought of the cold showers, and managed to hold it 
in. 
 
Then Diana lay flat on her back, her small soft breasts flattening 
against her body, and her arms held high, inviting me to join her. As I 
lay down on top of her, she spread her legs. "Bunny, you're so much less 
heavy that other boys." I wondered who else she'd had on top of her - 
Diana could pick and choose any boy she wanted. "Diana, you're so 
lovely, so pretty, so little and gorgeous, you're the loveliest girl 
..." Well, I guess I don't have to repeat this word for word, you know 
the kind of thing you say in this situation. And if you don't, then 
that's why you aren't having much luck with the opposite sex. 
 
I felt a hand between my legs; finding and then guiding, and with a 
gentle push, I was inside. Diana sort of wriggled, and then I was deep 
inside, and somehow I knew what to do. I pulled back a little, and 
Diana's hands curled round my body and pulled me in again. Again, I 
withdrew a few inches, and Diana's soft hands coaxed me back again. Then 
we found the rhythm, and in a few minutes, I understood what all the 
other boys had been talking about. I came, Diana came, the whole world 
came. It was like a Roman Candle going off.
 
I rolled off her, and she opened her eyes. "Oh, Bunny, that was 
wonderful. That was the best thing that has ever happened to me." I 
glowed inside. "Diana, you were great too, I've never felt anything like 
that before, it was just most excellent." "Was it your first time, 
Bunny?" I nodded; I thought that what Sandi had done to me was so 
different, it didn't count. "Oh, then that's so special!", she said. 
"Was it your first time, Diana?" "It was the first time I've enjoyed it, 
Bunny." Well, I suppose that was good enough. We hugged each other, and 
kissed, and then Sandi came back from her shower, her body wet and her 
hair sodden, so I helped her to dry herself while Diana rubbed a towel 
over her hair, and then brushed it and tied a royal blue scarf into it. 
 
Diana noticed the time, and so I took her home. We sat on my bike 
outside her house, holding hands and talking. "I love you, Diana" "I 
love you, Bunny". We said a lot more than that to each other, each 
making promises of undying devotion, adoration and commitment. 
 
Since it was Saturday night, I had a late pass from my parents, and I 
was so hopped up from all the incredible events of the day, I couldn't 
just go home. Where could I go? I didn't fancy going down to the 
Rapscallion at this time of night and telling all my friends that I'd 
just fucked Diana Nightingale - they wouldn't believe me anyway. But I 
knew someone who would. 
 
Sandi was asleep when I tiptoed into her room, but she woke up as I got 
into bed with her. "Hi, Bunny", she said, as she put her big strong arms 
round me. "Feeling good?" "Oh, Sandi. Oh, Sandi." She was wearing the 
satin night-dress I'd got her for Valentines, and I snuggled up close to 
her breasts. "Oh, Sandi, she's such a darling, I've never met a girl as 
marvellous as Diana. She's so sweet, so sexy, and we love each other." 
Sandi hugged me with real pleasure. "She's a smashing girl, Sandi, she's 
the prettiest girl in the school, and she's my girlfriend!" "You deserve 
her, Bunnikins. You're a lovely sweet little boy" "Not so much of the 
little boy, Sandi!" "That's right, of course, you're a man now, aren't 
you? Did she fuck you good?" "Oh yes, Sandi it was so good, it was out 
of this world" "On a scale of one to ten?" I thought about this. "Linear 
or logarithmic?" "What?" "Do you mean on a linear scale or a log scale?" 
"Bunny, you're full of this stuff. What's the difference?" 
 
Decibels are a logarithmic scale. If something is 10db louder, then it's 
ten times as loud. So, 60db is ten times as loud as 50db, 70db is 100 
times as loud as 50db, and 80db is 1000 times as loud as 50db. I 
explained this to Sandi, who didn't seem to mind laying in bed with a 
boy and getting math lessons. "Log scales are more useful for measuring 
human perceptions, because people tend to work that way." "OK, Bunny, 
then on a log scale, where 0 is nothing happening, and 10 is the Rapture 
of the Gods. How was your fuck with Diana?" 
 
I thought for a while, wondering how to answer this. "Sandi, what's the 
Rapture of the Gods?" Sandi laughed and cuddled me closer. "Nothing you 
want to know about, Bunnikins". My parents did that sort of thing to me 
all the time, but I was feeling so good about the world that I let it 
go. "I suppose I'd give Diana a five." "Only five?" said Sandi, rubbing 
my chest, her hands roaming unstoppably over my soft body. "What scores 
better than five, then?" "You did, Golden Amazon, on Valentines". "Why 
do you call me Golden Amazon, Bunny?" "Because you're golden, your hair, 
your body, your spirit is all gold. And you're the strongest girl in all 
the world, a fearless warrior, a destroyer of helpless men. "Shouldn't 
that be strongest woman, Bunnikins?" "Yes, you've got a body like a 
full-sized woman and more, you're big and beautiful, you dominate any 
group, you're a Golden Amazon." 

My body still remembered the way she'd handled my genitals on 
Valentine's Day, and would never forget the exquisite agony of the 
explosive orgasms that she extracted from me. I would never, ever forget 
that expreience. "And what did I rate as?" she asked, softly. I lay on 
top of her, and burrowed deeper into her arms. "About nine, Sandi". I 
felt her hard body soften under the silky night-dress, and I almost got 
aroused again. She stroked my bare back, I put my hands on her lower 
ribs, and she said "You're my best friend, Bunny, and I'll always look 
after you." "I love you, Golden Amazon", I whispered into her chest, too 
quietly for her to hear. I fell asleep in the strong arms that protected 
me from the cruel world outside. 
 
Chapter 39 - Spring is in the Air. 
 
The daffodils blew their trumpets excitedly in the warm spring air; the 
squirrels yawned, stretched, woke up and looked for the nuts they'd 
hidden last fall. Birds did their mating dance and chose partners, bees 
emerged blinking and buzzing from their hives, and rabbits romped in 
the fields and fucked in their warrens, like rabbits do (indeed, I 
sometimes wondered about my own parents - they must have done it at 
least once, I was proof of that, but somehow I couldn't imagine it). 
Girls at school started wearing their shortest skirts and tightest 
sweaters in the eternal sexual display of look-but-don't-touch; boys 
swaggered and boasted of imaginary conquests, and comber their hair. The 
hormone level at Salt Mountain High rose to dangerous levels as the sap 
rose in the trees, and in the teenagers of Salt Mountain. 
 
None of this affected me in the slightest. Diana and I had been bonking 
like beavers at every opportunity, and since Sandi didn't mind us using 
her place, we had plenty of opportunities. Sometimes Sandi wasn't there, 
sometimes she watched us, and sometimes she even participated. And 
sometimes, after I took Diana home (her parents still insisted that she 
get home by eleven each night, as if that somehow would preserve her 
virtue), I'd go back to Sandi's for a talk and a cup of coffee. Also, 
Sandi's idea of friendship seemed to be quite elastic and I could often 
hope for a cuddle or a lesson in how to kiss. And we got into the habit 
of me staying overnight with Sandi on Saturday nights after I'd seen 
Diana safely home; Diana knew all about this, and I think she didn't 
mind, as long as I continued to share Sandi with her. And I still hadn't 
had sex with Sandi - apparently, friendship didn't go quite that far. It 
wasn't for want of trying, mind, but Sandi fended me off without 
difficulty, and told Diana later to give me a thorough going-over. 

 
If I got really randy with her, sometimes Sandi helped Diana work me 
over; until it's happened to you, you have no idea what it's like to be 
held firmly in the arms of a very strong woman, her hard nipples digging 
into your back, while a beautiful doll-like sexy feminine girl does 
wonderful things to your front. And you can hardly move because of the 
strong hands holding you tight, but you have to move because ot the soft 
hands, lips and body gently devastating your body. The strong woman 
behind grips you and with a firm grip on your penis, stops you from 
having an orgasm, while the soft, gentle girl in front does her best to 
make you come. Until eventually, the muscle woman behind decides that 
you've had as much as you can take (long after you've reached that 
point), and her strong, hard hands relax their grip on your genitals and 
change to milking you instead, and you feel like she's turning you 
inside out. 
 
Spring fever even affected Sandi. Late one Saturday evening, as I was 
doing my best to give her the stiffest nipples in the world, she 
suddenly turned on the bed to face me, put her arms round me and said 
"Bunny, what's it like having a girlfriend like Diana?" So I explained 
to her about how wonderful it was to have someone you could rely on, how 
great it was to fuck like ferrets, how proud I was when all the boys 
lusted after my girl, how wonderful it was to screw like squirrels, how 
nice it was not to have to worry about who to ask out on a Saturday 
evening date, how terrific it was to bonk like beavers, how super it was 
to have the prettiest girl in the school to hold hands with, how 
fantastic it was to fornicate like falcons, and ... "All right, Bunny, I 
get the idea. I wish ..." and Sandi looked wistful. "What is it, Sandi?" 
"Wouldn't it be nice if ..." Oh? What does she want, and can I supply 
it, please? "What is it, Golden Amazon?" "Well, I was just thinking, 
looking at you and Diana, you're having such a great time ..." "Mmmh", I 
purred, and snuggled close to Sandi. And then she came out with it. "I 
wish I had a boyfriend." I was in like a hound on heat. "I'll be your 
boyfriend, Sandi" 
 
She looked down at me. Bless her, she didn't laugh at me, but she smiled 
ruefully, and said "I don't think so Bunny. You aren't quite what I had 
in mind." I didn't think so, somehow. Sandi knew full well that I was 
hers for the asking. "What have you got in mind, Sandi?" She lay back 
and put her hands behind her head, and closed her eyes. I kept rubbing 
and massaging her breasts as she explained. "Bunny, I think I want a 
man, a real man. He'd be big and strong, but gentle and kind. Not too 
big, maybe five-nine. but strong, very strong. Much stronger than me, 
someone who can make me feel soft and warm and loved." 
 
I slithered down to stroke the tops of Sandi's thighs. When she's lying 
with her legs stretched out, they make an impressive sight, each one 
bigger than her waist (or my chest, come to that), oval in cross-
section, ridged with muscle and tendons, bumpy with veins and arteries. 
And she loves having them stroked, she makes "Mmmm" noises and I can 
even make her wriggle a bit. "He'd be about five nine", she repeated 
dreamily, "maybe 240 pounds, and ever so strong, much stronger than I 
am. He'd be able to pick me up with one hand, he'd be able to pin me 
down so that I couldn't get back up, and when we arm wrestled, my two 
arms wouldn't be a match for one of his." She's dreaming, right? I'd 
seen her demolish a man much bigger and heavier than that without too 
much trouble. 
 
"And then he throws me down onto the bed, rips off my dress ..." I 
thought, Sandi, when was the last time you wore a dress? "... and his 
great strong body crushes me under his weight ..." Oh, Sandi, you can 
lift a hundred pounds more than that, 240 pounds isn't a lot to you "... 
his hard hands hold me helpless, his mouth finds mine and he kisses me 
gently and tenderly." She looked down at me. Her golden hair was spread 
out over the pillow, her breathing was ragged, her nipples were erect 
and she was obviously getting herself worked up into a sexual frenzy, 
which was fine by me. "And then he takes off his trousers, and his 
magnificent fifteen-inch cock springs out towards me ..." WHAT? Come on, 
Sandi, you're being a bit silly here "... I smile and open my legs ..." 
which she did, and I started stroking the soft, silky fur between her 
thighs "... and he plunges his mammoth organ into my soft, wet pussy; 
harder and harder, deeper and deeper. My orgasm begins, and my vagina 
clenches and spasms round his hard cock, squeezing it and milking it, 
until he reaches orgasm simultaneously with me; then his orgasm feeds 
mine, and mine feeds his. My powerful vagina muscles pull and suck at 
his cock; his long hard cock thrusts against my G-spot causing my vagina 
muscles to go into a frenzy, wringing out every last drop and extracting 
his juices into my soft cavern until I faint from the sensation and he 
collapses in exhaustion on top of me." 
 
Hmmph. Sandi's feeling randy. And it doesn't sound like four-foot-
eleven, 85 pounds of boy with four inches of medium-hard dick is going 
to give her what she wants. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Sandi's 
a major chunk, and she'd want something big in the masculine side of 
things. But fifteen inches? Impossible. Even Big Jim is only seven 
inches, and he always wins the contests the boys have at school. I 
reluctantly left Sandi's thighs, and crawled up to join her at the top 
of the bed. "Sandi", I said seriously. "I think you need a boyfriend" 
"Mmmmh", she said, dreamily, "Yes, I think I do" "Sandi, if you do get a 
boyfriend, say you got someone like you just described, someone, you 
know, big and hung ..." She turned those big soft grey eyes on me, and I 
faltered. "Well, Sandi, would we, I mean, can we, I mean, could we ..." 
"Still be friends? Oh, Bunny, you don't think I'd ever abandon you, do 
you? Of course we'd still be friends. We'll always be friends." "And if 
we're still friends, could I still, I mean, you know on Saturday nights 
..." "You mean after you take Diana home and you come round here and 
slip into bed with me?" I nodded. That was the high point of my 
existence, better even than fucking Diana, and don't anyone tell Diana I 
said that. Sandi put her big, strong arms round me and pulled me close. 
"Bunnikins, of course you can." "Golden Amazon" I whispered to her. I 
felt the warmth of her breasts against my body, the hardness of the 
nipples and the softness of her hair on my back, and I relaxed. 
Everything was going to be all right. Except where on earth are we going 
to find this superman for her? Stronger than the Golden Amazon and hung 
like a horse? Where do you find a guy like that? I fell asleep in her 
arms, thinking about it. 
 
Next Monday, at school, I was just telling Diana about the specification 
that Sandi had laid out, and I'd just got to the part about fifteen 
inches, and Diana shrieked "WHAT?", when Sandi walked by. I had to look 
twice to check that it was Sandi, because it was a rather different 
Sandi to what I was used to. The Sandi I knew didn't bother too much 
about her appearance, rarely wore makeup, wore her hair in a ponytail, 
and without my glasses on, I'd taken her for a rather chunky guy. This 
Sandi wore her hair spread across her back, had on lipstick and eye 
makeup, and was wearing a dress. Diana gasped at the sight and I was 
rather taken aback. This was definitely a different Sandi Stone from the 
one I knew. 
 
Or was she? No, she was the same Sandi, just acting differently. So I 
went up to her, and told her how pretty she looked today, and tried to 
kiss her, but she wouldn't let me, so I tried to hug her instead, and 
she wouldn't have that either. So I told her she looked really 
fantastic, and I liked the dress, and she said "Who are you trying to 
kid, I look stupid", and she rushed down to the gym, me running after 
her, but trailing well behind. I found her in the girls changing room, 
not a place I'd normally go into, and she was sitting on a bench looking 
very upset. I sat down next to her, and we sat silently for a while. 
Then I said "Sandi". And she turned to me, and said "Oh, Bunny, I'm so 
sorry" and threw her arms round me, and I couldn't breath for a little 
while, but that was OK, because it was Sandi. You know what I mean? 
Maybe not. Maybe you've never felt like that about someone. 
 
"Bunny, you know what we talked about yesterday?" "Yes" "I really would 
like a boyfriend, I mean you're a friend and you're a boy, and that's 
cool, but I want a boyfriend, you know? Like, well, like Diana has? I 
mean someone like you would be so wonderful ..." and I thought, she can 
have someone *just* like me any time she wants, but I knew I just wasn't 
big enough and strong enough for her, and that's without the eleven 
inches I lacked. And without the ten inches of height. "... and I know 
all the boys have fantasies about me, you told me, so I thought maybe if 
I dressed like the other girls, but it doesn't work like that, does it?" 
No Sandi, I don't think it does. "Sandi, I think the kids here are just 
too young for you, you know?" "So you think I should pick up a college 
guy? I could go to Rapscallions disco, get picked up there?" Maybe. I 
wasn't sure, but I knew that none of the guys at school would be any use 
to her. 
 
I told Diana about Sandi's feelings and needs, and she said "Let's all 
of us go down on Saturday night." Which, after a bit of work persuading 
Sandi, we did. 
 
Chapter 40 - Saturday Night Date, Sandi, Bunny and Diana

Saturday night at Rapscallions is something special. Everyone who's 
anyone goes there. Well, if you want to meet someone of the opposite sex 
you do, unless you're a complete geek. You don't get too many 
established couples - a few, maybe, who haven't yet understood that 
Rapscallions is basically a meat market. And Diana and I were there to 
give moral support to the toughest and sexiest piece of meat they'd ever 
had on offer, Sandi Stone. Diana took Sandi out shopping that afternoon, 
and I met them at the disco. They acted like they'd come together, and 
they looked like two gorgeous girls out looking for studs. One of them 
was tiny, elegant and exquisite, the other one was big, and very well 
built, especially in the bust. In fact, as I looked at Sandi, I thought 
she looked quite a lot larger than usual. What on earth had the girls 
done? I sat and watched as Diana and Sandi took the disco floor 
together, and then I thought I'd better get moving before someone else 
does. I went up to them, and I asked Diana to dance with me, leaving 
Sandi alone, and therefore more vulnerable to a pickup (I kind of wished 
I could do that, too, but the whole point of the evening was to find 
someone for Sandi). Diana looked gorgeous; she was wearing a simple 
black dress that clung to her body like any man would want to. 
 
Sandi was doing fine, dancing. She was wearing a long-sleeved, long-
skirted dress in deep royal blue velvet. The neckline was low, and there 
was rather more Sandi showing that I remembered from the last time I'd 
played with her breasts. On the way home, I asked Diana about this, and 
she said "Wonderbra", which evidently is something that women wear to 
make the most of themselves. The scarf in her hair matched her dress, 
and she seemed to have gotten the hang of her high heeled shoes. Sandi 
had a few boys round her - she seemed to be quite the center of 
attraction. Diana and I had one dance, and then I leaned across and 
shouted into her ear (you don't whisper in Rapscallions) "Why don't we 
go back to Sandi's place and fuck?" Diana nodded vigorously, so I took 
her hand and we left. 
 
I won't describe what we did; I'm sure you have the general idea. I 
won't describe it because you've probably seen far too many descriptions 
of the sexual act already, and you're bored with it. Aren't you? Well, 
what we did was fairly straight forward, and highly repetitious, it took 
a few hours, and afterwards we both felt very good about it. And while I 
was in the state of Nirvana that Diana could produce in me, she hit me 
with "Bunny, I think I'm pregnant". 
 
A feeling of horror swept over me. I felt like a small animal must when 
its leg is caught in a trap. I loved Diana, but I wasn't ready to become 
a father. "What do you mean, you think?" "I missed a period, and the 
other girls think that means I'm pregnant." Reprieve. It hasn't been 
confirmed, maybe it's a false alarm, I've heard about those. Girls do 
miss periods sometimes. We talked about it; I kept telling Diana that 
the first thing to do was get a pregnancy test, you can get them at any 
drugstore. Diana wanted to talk about getting married, but hey - I'm 
only sixteen, well, almost seventeen, anyway, I wasn't ready for 
matrimony yet, for sure. But I didn't really want to get into this 
subject unless we really had to, so we went round and round in circles, 
and then we fucked again, and then I took her home. We kissed goodnight 
(her parents watched us through the window, so make sure we didn't get 
up to anything naughty, which I thought surrealistic in the 
circumstances. And I raced back to Sandi's - I *had* to talk to her 
about Diana. 
 
Sandi, of course, wasn't there. I waited till after midnight, and then I 
thought, I'll just have a little lie down in her bed. The sheets and 
blankets smelled of Sandi; I don't know how to explain this, but there's 
a unique Sandi smell, musky and sweet, I can't describe it but I can 
recognize it. And, of course, I fell asleep, my mind full of Diana and a 
baby, my nose full of Golden Amazon. 
 
I was woken up when someone heavy landed on top of me, and I found 
myself in the middle of a fight. I fought back, but soon found myself 
landing on the floor with a bump that dazed me. The fight went on 
without me, and after I'd shaken the dizziness out of my head, I 
realized it wasn't a fight at all. Sandi had brought someone home, and 
they were humping like two camels. Well, I didn't want to spoil Sandi's 
fun, so I sat in a chair and waited. It was just as well that Diana had 
fucked me bandy-legged, otherwise I'm not sure that I could have kept my 
cool. But eventually there was a very loud scream, tailing away, 
followed eventually by silence. "Sandi?" I called. "Bunny? What on earth 
are you doing here?" "Sandi, it's Saturday.". There was another loud 
bump as a body fell to the floor, and Sandi said "Well, what are you 
waiting for, then?" I tripped over an unconscious body on the floor as I 
went towards the bed, but Sandi caught me before I could hurt myself, 
and pulled me into bed with her. She smelled wonderful, like flowers and 
sex mixed together.. 
 
"Sorry, Bunny, I didn't realize you were there. That was Tony, we met at 
Rapscallions. Are you all right?" "Hi, Tony" Tony was silent - that was 
not surprising, as he was out cold. "Sandi, I've got a problem. Can we 
talk?" I looked down at Tony, I didn't really want him to hear about 
this, if he woke up. Sandi picked him up and I followed her as she took 
him into the bathroom and dumped him in the bath. "He'll be all right 
there", she said, and took the satin night-dress I'd given her for 
Valentines, and slipped it over her head. She looked so gorgeous; she 
didn't need makeup, or a Wonderbra, or any other help at all. Just firm, 
solid, hard Sandi. She took my hand and led me back to bed, pulled me 
close to her, and said "What's the problem, Bunnikins?" I loved it when 
she called me that.
 
You know, I felt like all my problems had disappeared. When your head is 
cuddled against the large, firm breasts of a powerful, beautiful woman, 
when a pair of strong hard arms are protecting you from the cruel world, 
how can you have a problem? "Diana thinks she's pregnant" "And?" "She 
wants me to marry her." "And?" "Well, that's the problem." "What's the 
problem?" Um. Sandi didn't think this was a problem. "Look, Sandi, I'm 
not quite seventeen, that's a bit young to get married and have a 
family. I don't think I'm ready for the responsibility. And how would I 
support them - I don't want to leave school, there's so much to learn." 
 
Sandi pulled me up so that my head was next to hers, and those limpid 
grey eyes pulled me into their depths. "Well, you can wait till you're 
seventeen, that's only a few weeks away. And don't worry about 
responsibility; it's the women who take that, the men just get the fun. 
Plus, you don't have to give up school, our business is doing quite well 
enough to be able to support you and Diana." I hadn't thought of that. 
Last month, we'd made just over $23,000 after costs, partly from the 
fight against Bull Wattis, partly from sales on the video of the fight 
(my idea; Grosby got nothing out of that) but mostly with Sandi Stone 
merchandise, sold by me and Diana just after the "Strongest Woman in the 
World" act. I still felt pretty bad, though, and I told her so. "I'll 
cheer you up, Bunny. It isn't the end of the world, you'll feel a lot 
better soon." 
 
I felt a strong, hard hand between my legs, pulling off the blue scarf I 
always wore there, and taking hold of my small cock in her big fingers. 
Diana had me pretty wrung out, but it's impossible to resist Sandi's 
hand, and she found a way to arouse, and then gently orgasm me. Not a 
screaming, shuddering, ecstasy sort of orgasm, but a warn, friendly sort 
of orgasm, the sort that friends might give to one another, the sort 
that a Golden Amazon would give her Bunnikins. She was right, I felt a 
lot better afterwards, and I clung to her big hard body, her arm round 
my back, and we fell asleep like that. 
 
A few days later, Diana announced that the pregnancy test was negative, 
and then the following week, her period arrived, very late. Better late 
than never, I thought. It was a false alarm. But I can tell you, after 
that I was very careful about contraception with her, in spite of it 
being such a palaver. 
 
Chapter 41 - The Domination of Mr Grosby 
 
It was May and the trees were just getting their green lace petticoats 
on when I finally got fed up with Mr Grosby's intransigence about 
Sandi's third fight. He wanted to pay her the same $5,000 that she'd got 
for destroying Bull Wattis, but I'd calculated how much he'd made from 
that fight, plus from sales of the video of it, and I was asking for 50 
big ones. Wattis was still in hospital, and was just beginning to be 
able to hobble around; he'd never, ever fight again, not that he wanted 
to. Sandi wanted to fight again, though. Someone big, she said; big and 
heavy. Big, heavy and with an attitude problem, Sandi explained to me 
"Half the fun is in correcting their attitude." But Grosby was standing 
firm, take it or leave it was his attitude. Well, Sandi was worth a lot 
more than $5,000 in the ring. After her last two fights, the crowd could 
easily be nearer 10,000 than 1,000, and at $100 per seat, $200 for 
nearer ones, $500 for ringside, Grosby could take well over a million 
bucks. Then, on top of that, there would be sales of merchandise (if he 
had his head straight), Sandi T- shirts and so forth. And sales of the 
video of the fight, the audio tapes, and pictures from the fight. The 
on-take could easily top a million alone. So there was no way that I'd 
settle for a measly five grand, and I kept telling him so. But he 
wouldn't move, and I got fed up with it. 
 
I told Sandi, and she smiled at me and said "Well, let's go persuade him 
a bit." "I tried that, Sandi, it doesn't work." "I bet if I had a few 
words with him, he'd come round a bit." Well, I thought, I doubt it, but 
there's no harm in trying. So, one Saturday afternoon, we buzzed down to 
St Josephs on the Bantam, and visited Grosby. I knocked on his door, but 
Sandi just barged past me, straight into his office. I followed her 
through reception, where a rather pretty secretary was expostulating to 
Sandi's rapidly vanishing back, so I stopped for a minute or so to 
explain to her that it was all right, we were expected, maybe Mr Grosby 
had forgotten, we wouldn't be more than a minute or so, and not to 
worry. She looked doubtful, but I heard a commotion from inside Grosby's 
office, followed by a thud, like a sack of flour being dropped. I went 
through the door that Sandi had just entered. 
 
Inside Grosby's office was a bit of a mess. Sandi was standing there, 
hands on hips, looking a bit cross. There was a large fellow I think I 
recognized from the gym, curled up on the floor in a little ball, 
bleeding from the nose and moaning, and Grosby just standing up from his 
chair. Sandi turned and saw me. "Oh, hi Bunny. I had a bit of aggro from 
this guy, but I hit him a couple of times, and he's not a problem any 
more." I looked down at the wrecked mess on the floor, and felt slightly 
sorry for him. This wasn't his fight, but he'd gotten in the way of a 
meat grinder called Sandi. And the meat grinder was just heading for 
Grosby, who recognised his peril and tried to run for it. 
 
Not a chance. Sandi just put out one arm as he tried to run past, and 
scooped him up, slamming him down in his desk. He bounced, once, and 
then again when Sandi smashed her fist into his chest. The Sandi hit his 
belly a few times; lightly at first, but making the punch heavier until 
she'd gotten the effect she was after, which was simply agonising, 
debilitating pain suffusing his whole being. She wrenched his arms, one 
at a time, and I could hear the creaking and popping of the tendons 
inside. Then she climbed on top of him as he lay face up on the desk, 
and sitting on his belly, started to explain things to him. "Right, 
limpdick. Here's how it is. Feel these thighs?" and she put his helpless 
hands on the great, hard columns of muscle that were Sandi's thighs. I 
could see his fear as she guided his fingers over them; he knew from her 
fights, and now from personal experience, what her arms could do. And he 
knew that no man could survive being crushed by Sandi's thighs. I saw 
him tremble, I heard him whimper. "You're life is between my thighs, 
sweetiepie. I might kill you, or I might just cripple you for ever, like 
I did to the Bull. Or maybe just put you in hospital for a few weeks, 
how about that, sweetness?" Grosby moaned, in pain and fear. Sandi tore 
off his trousers, and pulled off his shoes and socks. "Here, eat this" 
she said, handing him one of his own socks. He looked at it stupidly, 
like he didn't understand. "Open your mouth, sweetcakes, and close your 
eyes." Sandi showed him her fist, the fist that felt like a sledgehammer 
when it landed. He closed his eyes, and half opened his mouth. Sandi put 
her hand between his legs, gripping his genitals gently, but enough to 
hurt. "Open wide", she trilled, like a dentist's nurse. He stretched 
his mouth in a big yawn, and Sandi stuffed his sock into it. He gagged 
and choked on the foul taste and smell, and tried to cough it out, but 
Sandi had her hand over his mouth, and he couldn't. I could see the 
tears rolling down his cheeks as he suffered the unendurable humiliation 
that Sandi was subjecting him to. She swung her leg gracefully over to 
the ground, and stood next to Grosby, one hand over his mouth, the other 
holding his other sock. She looked up at me. 
 
"Bunny, this is the Double Triangle of Domination. You've been asking 
about it for ages; now watch and learn. The first part of the Triangle 
is Pain, Fear and Humiliation. Pain from my fists, and my hands, the 
agony that a weak man feels when he encounters the hard muscles of a 
strong woman. It's very easy for me to inflict pain, lots of it, and I 
demonstrate this on their poor soft bodies. Then, after the pain is well 
established, comes the fear. Fear of more pain, from the same woman, 
from the same fists and arms. Then I show them my thighs, and make them 
understand that I can make it worse, lots worse. The fear of pain is 
joined by the fear of permanent damage. Between my thighs, a man turns 
to mush. My legs can take a man's sound body, and crush it to jelly. 
These two nutcrackers can reduce any male to a sobbing, broken wreck, 
and they imagine how terrible it would be if I were to use them. Once 
the fear has control of their minds, it's easy to humiliate them in all 
sorts of ways. Just the fact that he's crying is humiliation enough, but 
his fear of my muscles will force him to do things that destroy his 
self-respect." 
 
I felt a bit nervous myself, and I was her friend. Just watching her 
display of raw power was disconcerting, even knowing that it was all 
directed at Grosby. I nodded, and fingered the blue silk scarf round my 
neck, which comforted me a bit. "Bunny, you look scared. What's the 
matter? Weak stomach?" I couldn't take any more, and ran towards her, 
burying my face in her chest. "Please, Sandi. Please, Golden Amazon." I 
whispered. She soothed me. "Bunnikins, don't be frightened, this isn't 
for you. This is for this pathetic excuse for a man, here." She kissed 
me gently, and pushed me into a chair, to watch what followed. 
 
"I've already done the first triangle." Grosby lay face up on his desk, 
his ful sock in his mouth, weeping muffled sobs of fear and humiliation. 
"The second part of the Double Triangle of Domination, consists of 
Pleasure, Anticipation and Fulfilment." She pulled Grosby so that his 
head overhung the desk, and with the sock still in his mouth, tucked his 
head into her crotch, between her thighs. I wasn't sure if he'd be able 
to breathe in that position, I certainly didn't envy him. Sandi stood 
over him, her crutch controlling his head, and then she reached up to 
her hair and pulled off her blue silk scarf, which she wrapped carefully 
round his small, soft dick. It didn't stay soft for long, though, as she 
squeezed and teased it in her two strong hands. I knew the sensations 
that Grosby must be feeling, I'd felt Sandi's hands there once myself. I 
started to get an erection in sympathy. "Now, sweetikins, you're going 
to get the best sex you've ever had", she said, as she used her hands 
delicately on his genitals. I could imagine the orgasm building up under 
her hands, remembering how she done much the same to me. I could hear 
muffled noises from under Sandi's crotch, and I thought that Grosby was 
probably screaming, only what with the sock in his mouth and Sandi's 
thighs around his head, not much sound was coming out. Sandi continued 
to manipulate his sexual organs, and I could see that she was gripping 
the base of his penis with her left hand, while milking it with the 
other. That was exactly what she'd done to me on Valentines, and now I 
understood how come she was so skilled at it. Practice makes perfect, as 
they say. Sandi's left hand controlled Grosby's orgasm, keeping it from 
happening, which her right hand took him further and further past the 
point at which he should have come. I timed her; she spent fifteen 
minutes bringing Grosby to a frenzy of anticipation. Without her left 
hand he would have come long ago, and several times. But she was talking 
to him, all that time, telling him how wonderful it would be when she 
finally let him come, how all the women he'd ever known would be nothing 
compared to the golden minutes of orgasm at her hands. Finally, she 
decided he'd had enough, and she stepped back, pulling the scarf from 
around his cock, and releasing her grip on the base, and pulling the 
sock out of his mouth so that he could breathe freely. 
 
Grosby orgasmed, in a screaming, shuddering incoherent tribute to 
Sandi's sexual power. The Golden Amazon held me close to her hard body 
as we both watched Grosby; he looked like he was in the grip of some 
kind of seizure, like an epileptic fit. All the sexual energy that Sandi 
had poured into him was discharged like a thunderstorm, over a period of 
several minutes. Sandi explained to me "And that's the Double Triangle 
of Domination, Bunny. Now he'll do anything I want, absolutely anything. 
His brain associates me with everything awful, and everything wonderful. 
When he looks at me, he'll be hit with either fear or anticipation, 
almost at random. He'll remember how I humiliated him, how he would have 
done anything I wanted, just to stop the terrible pain and fear. And 
he'll remember the pleasure, and how after unendurable anticipation I 
fulfilled his sexual requirements in a way that no other woman ever has 
or will." I shivered and pressed myself closer to her unmercifully hard 
body, this tough, competent girl who was my goddess and my friend, my 
Golden Amazon. 
 
At last, Grosby lay limp on the desk. His eyes were half open, and when 
he saw Sandi approach, they narrowed in fear, and he whimpered. She 
reached down to his neck, and put her fingers round his throat, the 
fingers that could bend six-inch nails, crack brazil nuts, and tear a 
man's arms almost from his body. She held a blue silk scarf in those 
terrible fingers, and slipped it round his throat, knotting it loosely 
at the front. "Grosby, from now on, you wear my scarf. You wear it 
always, you never take it off, not for anyone, not for anything. You 
understand?" He lay there, petrified. Her fingers squeezed the sides of 
his throat, gently, not hurting him. With her other hand, she pressed 
his Adam's Apple down. "You understand?" she repeated. "Yes", he 
whispered. "Anything you say. Please don't hurt me any more." 
 
"Sandi, the scarf" She turned to me. "Sandi, Sandi, now I understand." 
Mr Devonshire, Mr Dixon, all the other men I'd seen walking around with 
a royal blue scarf round their necks. She'd done this to them too! And 
more - what about the ones I didn't know about, the ones where she'd 
tied her scarf round their genitals. Sandi wasn't just a meat grinder, 
she wasn't just an efficient fighting machine, and she wasn't just the 
strongest and sexiest girl in the world. She was also capable of total 
domination of anyone who was in an way likely to be able to use the 
power of their position over her, as well as wanting to control a great 
many of the men and boys around her. And how could anyone stand up to 
her power? How could any man endure the Double Triangle of Domination 
without totally subordinating themselves to her terrible strength? How 
could you experience what the Golden Amazon had to offer without an 
overwhelming feeling of submission and humility? 
 
She looked at me, and I pictured myself spread out on a table, her 
thighs round my head, her hands giving me pain and pleasure as her whim 
dictated. "Sandi?", I whispered, and she walked towards me, the big 
muscles of her thighs very visible just below her short skirt. I looked 
up and there she was, smiling down at me. "Bunnikins", she said, and 
picked me up under the arms and kissed me. 
 
Then she put me down, and said briskly, "Come one, Bunny, time to go." 
She stepped over the man still squirming and twitching on the ground 
from her treatment, and we walked through the office back into the gym. 
I thought, I'll give Grosby a couple of days to recover, and then I'll 
call him about the next fight. I anticipated total docility now, and if 
he didn't do what I wanted, I'd offer to visit him with Sandi again. I 
was right; when later I did call him, he agreed to $50,000 at once, and 
also to a few other terms I asked for. 
 
Chapter 42 - Sandi Falls in Love

As we were walking hand in hand through the gym, Sandi suddenly stopped, 
and watched one of the bodybuilders. I looked at the guy she was 
watching, he seemed to be nothing special, not heavily muscled like some 
of them. But Sandi had obviously spotted something I'd missed, because 
she stood stock still, watching his workout. I looked up at her face, 
she was watching intently, as if she was looking for something. Her 
hands went up to her hair, but Grosby had her scarf, so she turned to 
me, and said "Bunny, I'll give you another one later", and she slipped 
her hand into my trousers, pulled out the scarf I had wound round my 
genitals, and tied it into her hair. She pulled her skirt higher, 
showing her thighs off better, tucked her blouse carefully into it and 
smoothed it down so that her breasts and nipples stood out, and turned 
to me and said, "Bunny, you go home now, I've got something I want to 
do, don't worry about me getting home. Call round this evening, and I'll 
tell you how it went." I could see that she was aiming herself at some 
guy, and I thought I hope he's worthy of her, but you don't argue with a 
randy Sandi, so I hopped on my trusty Bantam and roared off home. 
 
That evening, I took Diana out on our regular Saturday Night date. She 
was wearing a cream silk skirt with a tight red silk T-shirt, and looked 
gorgeous, as usual. Her body was small, but neat; her breasts wouldn't 
set any records, but they did all the right things to me, and to her 
when I licked them. Her legs weren't long, because Diana wasn't very 
tall, but there are distinct advantages in having a girlfriend who is 
shorted than you are. Of course, there are also tremendous advantages in 
having a big, strong friend like Sandi. I felt that I had the best of 
both worlds. I worried a bit about the fact that Sandi wouldn't be 
around to bail me out of any trouble, so I wanted to take her somewhere 
upmarket. By now, Diana and I were an established item, so we didn't go 
to any of the meat market places. Instead of Rapscallions, I took her to 
Cloud Nine, and spent a few hours smoochy-dancing. My leg still wasn't 
100%, but slow dancing was all right, and holding on to Diana made me 
forget any aches and pains. I took her home, and went round to see 
Sandi, half-expecting not to find here there. 
 
I was right. So I got into her bed alone, hoping she'd be back before 
too long. But she wasn't, and I spent the night alone. I didn't see her 
on the Sunday, either - I spent the day studying, catching up in 
Integration by Parts. Maybe I'll explain that to Sandi sometime I 
thought, wondering where she was. I wasn't worried about her, if anyone 
can look after herself, the Golden Amazon can. 
 
On Monday, I was snogging with Diana under a tree in the park in front 
of the school, when I saw Sandi walking by. I grabbed Diana's hand, and 
we ran (well, almost ran, I wasn't too good at moving at speed) up to 
Sandi. She looked sort of dreamy and floaty, and she was wearing a dress 
again. "Hi Sandi", we chorused. "Hi Bunny, hi Diana". "Sandi, what 
happened ..." She smiled, and it was the nicest smile I'd ever seen on 
her; she looked, well, serene. "Not now, guys. I'll tell you later." I 
could hardly wait, but Sandi wouldn't talk about it until after we'd 
finished doing the strong woman act. And then Diana had to go home, so 
it wasn't until I'd taken Diana to her house and returned that I could 
find out, by which time I was burning with curiosity. 
 
I practically ran up to Sandi's bedroom, and she was sitting cross-
legged on her bed, hugging a pillow, and singing along with a CD. 
"Sandi?" I said. She smiled at me, and I took the pillow from her, I had 
something much better for her to hug. She was wearing her sexy nightie, 
and she'd brushed her hair, and she looked drop-dead gorgeous. I climbed 
on the bed, and she took me into her arms. "Oh, Bunnikins, I'm in love." 
I thought so. I felt a lurch inside me, like my heart had fallen six 
inches. I knew this would happen one day, but that didn't mean I had to 
like it. "Tell me about it." Sandi lay back on the bed, taking me with 
her. "Oh, Bunny, he's so, so, oh, so wonderful." Yes, well, maybe. First 
things first. "What's his name?" "Mike. Mike Newmarket. He works out at 
the gym, but he isn't a bodybuilder, or a wrestler, or a boxer, or 
anything nasty like that. He's so sweet, so gentle. Oh, Bunny, he's like 
you, only, well ..." Yeah, I know. Bigger. Stronger. For the millionth 
time, I cursed the polio that had stunted my growth, left me weak and 
almost crippled. I nestled closer to Sandi. "What does he do, then?" "He 
works out to keep himself in shape, it's really important that he says 
fit and toned. Oh, Bunny, he's so lovely, he's so handsome, so nice, and 
he likes babies, and he's got a cat, a darling cat, soft and furry." 
Phoebe was soft and furry. All cats are soft and furry. Go find a hard, 
furless cat! "What does he do for a living?" "He's a porn actor." 
 
Oh Sandi, Sandi, what the hell have you gotten yourself into. I looked 
up at her, and she must have seen the look on my face. "Bunny, there's 
nothing wrong with being a porn actor. He's over 21, 27 actually, he 
gets pretty good money, people want porno movies. And he's so sweet? He 
doesn't slobber all over me, he's gentle and kind, and I love him." With 
an implied "so there" at the end. "Did you tell him you were sixteen?" 
"Oh, Bunny, of course not. I told him I was twenty." With a body like 
hers, Sandi would pass for twenty easily. "What else did you tell him 
about yourself?" "I said I was a bodybuilder, I didn't want to scare 
him." No, I can see that explaining that you mostly worked as a meat-
grinder might be a bit of a turn-off. "Did you tell him about the 
strong-woman act?" "Uh, no." "Well what did you tell him you did for a 
living." "Uh, don't be upset, Bunnikins. I told him I was a stripper." 
"Oh, Jesus, Sandi?" She certainly had the body to be a very successful 
stripper, but ... "Well, he's a porn star ..." "star?" "well, OK, actor, 
so I thought I can't tell him I'm still at school, 'cos I'm supposed to 
be twenty, and I didn't like to tell him about the strong-woman act, so 
I thought stripper, 'cos I bet I'd be good at that ..." "You'd be a 
great stripper, Sandi", I said, and I rubbed the big full breasts that 
would be important to a good stripper. "You'd be a fantastic stripper." 
I said, kissing them. "What's going to happen when he finds out the 
truth?" Sandi looked thoughtful. "The problem is, Bunny, once you start 
making things up, you have to go on with it to be consistent. But he's 
so gorgeous, Bunny." He looked pretty ordinary to me, but who can tell 
what turns a girl on? I often wondered what a stunning girl like Diana 
saw in a runt like me. Or Sandi, for that matter. "So what happened, 
Sandi?" 
 
"He took me to dinner, and then we went out dancing. Then we went to his 
place, and necked a bit. He said my muscles were amazing!" "They are 
Sandi, everyone knows that." "Yes, but he kept on saying it, he really 
admired me." So do I, Sandi, I thought, so does every male in Salt 
Mountain. "Oh, Bunny, but he was so cool, so nice. He smelled nice, too, 
not like most boys. And he loved it so much when I unzipped his trousers 
and got his dick out. And you can see how he gets to be a porn actor, 
Bunny, he's fourteen inches long." I stopped rubbing her breasts, 
shocked. Fourteen inches? I looked up at her, was she exaggerating? "And 
when I stroked it, it kept getting bigger, and thicker. He told me he 
goes up to eighteen when he's properly aroused. And I can believe it, 
and it was so thick, and so stiff. And his balls are the size of 
oranges! He has to wear a size bigger in trousers, just to accommodate 
his genitals. I spent most of the evening playing with them, but at the 
end I let him come, and he said I was the best he'd ever had." "So you 
didn't actually fuck?" "No, Bunny, he said that he wouldn't do that on a 
first date, it was too soon." What? I've heard that line used by girls, 
but refusing someone like Sandi? That didn't make sense to me. "He 
respects me, you see Bunny. He says I'm just too nice to just leap into 
bed with. He says we should get to know each other better first." "So 
did you sleep with him?" "No, I slept in the bed, and he slept on the 
couch. And then on Sunday, he made me breakfast, and we went to an art 
museum, and he showed me all these lovely old pictures, and then we 
lunch in a little restaurant, and in the afternoon we caught a movie." 
"What did you see?" "Well, er, I'm not sure, it was all in French, and 
there were subtitles, but it didn't make sense to me. There didn't seem 
to be anything actually happening. And then we went out to dinner, and 
by that time it was midnight, so he took me home and kissed me 
goodnight. Bunny, I'm in love, I'm in love, it's never happened to me 
before, and I'm in love." 
 
Yeah. Shit. This didn't sound too good. I mean, I know I'm not really 
suitable for Sandi, being too runty and all, but I was a bit worried 
about a guy who had Sandi throwing herself all over him and didn't do 
the obvious. In his shoes, I'd have spent the entire weekend fucking 
like ferrets, shoving that huge dong into every orifice that Sandi could 
offer, and pumping the contents of those great balls all over her. Oh, 
wow. I got hard just thinking about it, and Sandi noticed, and I felt a 
strong hard hand on my cock, enveloping my four inches and turning my 
brain to jelly. Have you ever tried to work out a problem while a 
powerful woman drains your cock into her hand? Stand on me, it can't be 
done. After I struggled for a few moments, I just gave up and let Sandi 
do whatever she wanted with me. I mean, why fight her? After she'd done, 
I got my breath back, and then said "Sandi, this doesn't change 
anything, we're still friends?" "Of course we are, Bunnikins, what a thing 
to ask! You're my best friend in all the world, and you always will be." 
That sounded reassuring, and I left it at that. I guessed a Golden 
Amazon could look after herself. 
 
Sandi bought her own bike so she could visit her boyfriend in St 
Josephs. She didn't bother about the age limits, she got a driver's 
licence from some guy who wore a blue scarf, and bought a new, bright 
royal blue Honda Fireblade, big, butch and capable of 180 mph. She 
showed it to me proudly, and I must say, she made a fantastic sight on 
it. Then she took me for a ride on it. At 80mph, it was exciting; at 
100mph it was exhilarating, but at 120, I just closed my eyes, pressed 
myself against her back, and clung on to her as if my life depended on 
it. When she pulled up, she had to unclench my hands from round her 
waist and help me off the pillion. "Wow, Sandi, that was stupendous." I 
wanted to tell her to be careful, but I didn't think she'd take any 
notice, and I didn't want to sound like a granny, but I closed my eyes 
and wished. Even a Golden Amazon's tough body wouldn't have much chance 
if she crashed this beast at speed. Please be careful, Sandi. 
 
Every day after school, Sandi got on her big bike and roared off at high 
speed. I found comfort in Diana, and we both learned a great deal about 
the sexual capabilities of the human body over the next few weeks. On 
Saturdays, I'd still take her out for the big date, but it wasn't the 
same without going on to tell Sandi all about it afterwards. And Sandi 
wasn't telling me much about the love of her life, Mike the porn actor 
with the monster dick. After a few weeks of this, I started getting 
worried - it had been weeks since I'd spent a night with Sandi, and 
although Diana kept me nicely limp and drained, I missed Sandi, I missed 
her badly. I wanted to cuddle up to her big hard body, to feel her 
strong arms round me, her hard hands on my body, the big thich muscles 
unfer my hands, and the firm, springy nipples under my fingers. 
 
Then, one day, I was cuddling Diana in Sandi's bedroom (well, we had to 
snog somewhere), when Sandi came home. She looked a bit upset about 
something, and I let go of Diana, and ran over to her, and gave her the 
biggest hug I had. I was joined in a moment by Diana, hugging her from 
the other side, and between us we dragged Sandi over to the bed and 
pushed her down onto it. Sandi resisted, but not seriously, and between 
us we got her out of the silk dress she was wearing and started to 
stroke her lovely body. Sandi got aroused immediately, her nipples 
getting as stiff as your thumb and her vagina becoming sopping wet 
in no time. As I ran my hands over her familiar body, I could feel that 
she wasn't as hard as usual, I could feel a soft subcutaneous layer of 
fat under her skin; normal for a girl like Diana, but not what I'd 
expect of Sandi. I guessed she'd not had time for the weights since Mike 
entered her life, but I didn't say anything about it, as I thought Sandi 
seemed to have enough on her mind as it was. Between us, Diana and I 
brought Sandi to one beautiful orgasm after another, until it was time 
for me to take Diana home. As soon as I'd said goodnight to Diana, I 
raced back to talk to Sandi, and when I got back to her bedroom, I found 
she was lying on her bed and crying, very quietly, into her pillow. 
 
Chapter 43 - Sandi not in Love

I can't begin to explain how awful it is when Sandi cries. To me, she's 
strong and tough and invulnerable, a Golden Amazon, nothing can hurt 
Sandi Stone. She's like a rock, the foundation of my life. Watching her 
cry was like seeing the basis for my life dissolve. I sat down next to 
her, and wondered what to do. It was Mike, I knew. But what? What had he 
done to hurt her this way? "Oh, Bunny", she said, and turned to me, 
clutching me into her breasts. I put my arms round her and hugged her to 
me as hard as I could. I felt her soft hair on my face, and I reached up 
and touched her face, wet with tears. "What it is, Sandi?" "Oh, 
Bunnikins", she repeated. I didn't want to force the issue, she'd tell 
me when she was good and ready. Instead, I tried to cheer her up a bit. 
"Diana and I are going out on a picnic on Sunday, do you want to come 
too?" I knew she saw Mike on Sundays, but maybe it would help if they 
were apart for a bit. Sandi rubbed her eyes and tidied her hair a bit, 
and hr bit grey eyes glowed in the dim moonlight. "Oh, Bunny, that would 
be smashing. Can I bring Mike?" Oh. Not quite what I had in mind. "Sure, 
Sandi, we'll make a foursome, it'll be fun." "Oh, Bunnikins, I can 
always rely on you, can't I?" I nodded, and burrowed closer into her 
arms. Sometimes I feel that I'd rather just be held in Sandi's arms, 
than spend six hours fucking Diana. On the other hand, when Diana does 
that thing with her fingers, I'd rather be with Diana. Oh, well, I 
thought, enjoy what you've got, and I fell asleep. 
 
On Sunday, Diana and I were first at the picnic ground. I parked the 
Bantam, and we spread out the blanket, and started laying out the food 
and drink. Then, this enormous bright royal blue Honda Fireblade turned 
up, and Sandi and Mike unwrapped their legs from round it. Sandi was 
wearing a dress again; that seemed to be the way she was these days. I 
couldn't complain, the thin silk clung to her tremendous body leaving 
very little to the imagination, and I guess I must have been staring a 
bit too obviously, because Diana stuck a pickle into my open mouth. I 
said Hi to Mike, and proudly introduced Diana to him. Diana was dressed 
for bear. Diana was a very competitive girl in the first place, and 
knowing that she was up against Sandi always inspired her. She wore 
quite a long skirt for Diana, pleated silk, but she made sure it rode up 
when she sat down. It was a warm day, so she was wearing a halter top, 
and her small but beautifully shaped breasts shouted their presence to 
the world. Her hair was in curls, and she'd swept it forward, so that it 
led your eyes down to her neat breasts, and she sat back on her heels on 
the blanket, proudly showing off her 21-inch waist to the world. I 
thought she looked dazzling, sexy and delicious, and even Sandi was 
giving her admiring glances. Diana, of course, pretended not to notice, 
and it was all I could do not to leap on her and shag her silly. I 
watched her carefully, I didn't want Mike's fourteen inch dong to 
attract another victim, but he didn't seem interested in her at all, I 
was pleased to see. 
 
We'd eaten all the food (Sandi ate more than the rest of us put 
together) and drank all the wine (Sandi took the lion's share again), 
and we were pleasantly drowsy in the warm afternoon sun. I took Diana's 
hand, kissed it, and led her a few yards away for desert. It wasn't a 
grand passion; just a nice long slow fuck. Afterwards, we went back to 
the blanket where Sandi and Mike were necking, and I leaned up against 
Sandi's side, with Diana in my arms, and closed my eyes. I felt one of 
Sandi's arms come round me, holding me, making sure I didn't topple 
over, and with my face in Diana's hair, and her face in my chest, I 
dozed. As the warm sun caressed our bodies, Diana and I entwined with 
Sandi's arm round us I felt content. The strong hand that started 
playing with my genitals was a bonus, and I nuzzled closer to Sandi, the 
soft silk of her dress against my face. I opened my eyes to tell Sandi 
how nice it felt, and noticed that the arm leading down into my trousers 
was rather hairier than I would have expected. I screamed and leaped up, 
spilling Diana onto the grass. Sandi stood up and grabbed me, and asked 
what the matter was. 
 
I thought very quickly. I didn't want to make things worse between Sandi 
and Mike, so I said I had a bad dream. Sandi very obviously didn't 
believe me, and she took me in her arms, with her arms under mine, her 
hands linked in a fist in the small of my back. I recognized what she 
was about to do, I'd seen her do this to plenty of boys. She could 
reduce you to a vegetable with this hold; she was going to squeeze it 
out of me. I decided to resist as long as I could, surely she wouldn't 
really hurt me badly? Actually, she didn't hurt me at all. I suppose I 
should never have even thought she'd hurt me, she just cuddled me 
gently, and whispered into my ear "Come round this evening, Bunnikins, I 
want to talk to you." I nodded, and she released me. 
 
Afterwards, Diana grilled me. "What happened, Bunny? What was all that 
about?" "Diana, he put his hand in my trousers and started rubbing my 
dick. I love it when you or Sandi does that, but not someone I hardly 
know. And definitely, positively, absolutely not a guy!" "But I thought 
he was all masculine and virile? What about this eighteen inch dick 
Sandi told me about?" "I guess the size of your genitals has no bearing 
on your sexual orientation, Diana. Or maybe he was just being friendly? 
Anyway, I'm seeing Sandi tonight, maybe she'll tell me more." 
 
Sandi was already there when I entered her bedroom. She was kneeling on 
her bed, a big dumbbell in each hand at arms length, and she was raising 
them and lowering them slowly, doggedly, determinedly. I looked at the 
weight she was handling without too much strain, and counted a hundred 
pounds on each one. She looked up as I came in and stood by the door. 
"Hi, Bunny. It's all over." 
 
I felt awful. She'd been so much in love, she'd been practically 
glowing. And now she looked so down, so despondent. "He admitted it to 
me today - he's gay." I didn't know what to say, or what to do, so I 
acted instinctively. I got onto the bed with her, kneeled in font of 
her, wrapped my arms round her waist and hugged, squeezed, rubbed, 
fondled, kissed, stroked and told her that she was the most wonderful 
woman in the world, the only woman for me, light of my life, and, well, 
you know the sort of thing. At first, she didn't respond, her big arms 
pumping the weights up, down, up, down, but when I looked up, I could 
see a big tear crawling down her cheek. I kissed the tear away, and she 
dropped the dumbbells, pulled me close, and started telling me all about 
it. It was like a dam had burst. 
 
"Oh, Bunnikins, Bunnikins, it started off so well. We went everywhere, 
we had such a fabulous time, we made such a great couple, everyone 
stared at us..." Everyone stared at you, I thought. Sandi in a short 
silk sleeveless dress, the hem just brushing the tops of her thighs, her 
big firm breasts thrusting forward aggressively, her nipples creasing 
the fabric in a way that attracted the eye to the tips, was the most 
startling sight you could ever hope to see. I bet she caused traffic 
problems. "He took me to art galleries, to movies I couldn't even 
understand, to elegant restaurants. He took me to parties full of 
beautiful people having intellectual philosophical discussions. And then 
he'd take me home and kiss me goodnight, and it was like my groin was 
burning with the flame of love. But he said he respected me too much to 
take advantage of me. I tried everything, Bunny, I rubbed my body 
against him, I stroked his big, long cock with my fingers, I licked it, 
sucked it, but he wouldn't fuck me." 
 
I stroked her hair. "He took me to a porn shoot once, and I watched as 
he put that lovely great thing into a dozen different places, until the 
whole room was soaked and reeking with his spunk, and the four girls 
were dripping with it. Oh, and Bunny, you'd have liked those girls, they 
were as pretty as Diana, but taller and with such big breasts, I weren't 
sure if they were real, especially one of them, her name was Cindy, I 
asked her afterwards and she told me they were real enough, and she was 
73 inches round the bust, and looking at her I could believe it, but she 
said "You're not too bad yourself, honey, ever thought of going into 
porno", and I went all hot and wet inside. And then they started fucking 
and sucking again and I gripped the chair I was on so hard it broke and 
I had to sit on the floor, and when I got him alone I nearly raped him, 
only I know that wouldn't be any good, but he said he was tired from all 
the sex, so I left him alone and went out and bought a cucumber, and, 
oh, Bunny, Bunny". 
 
"I started to wonder what was wrong with me, maybe I wasn't attractive? 
And I ate more and more, and now I'm 20 pounds overweight, and I look 
gross." She didn't look gross. She just wasn't as clearly defined as 
usual, and I told her so. "Sandi, you look just great. You've just got a 
fine layer of fat under your skin, like most women have, that isn't 
anything. Anyway, you'll turn it into muscle in no time." "I hope so. 
And then today, after the picnic, he confessed everything to me. He said 
he'd only gone out with me because I looked so masculine, and he thought 
he'd be able to get it up with me, but he couldn't. So I told him he got 
it up fine with those porno girls, and he said, that's just a job. And I 
said, what do you mean, I look masculine. So he told me that my biceps 
were bigger than any man he'd ever met, and my thighs were hard and 
powerful, and if I wore a shirt and trousers instead of those silly 
dresses I'd look much better..." 
 
I was horrified. Sandi looked a perfect picture in a feminine dress, 
although she looked good in anything. I told her so. She hugged me 
harder, "Oh, Bunnikins, you're such a good friend, do you mean it?" Of 
course I did. Sandi in a silk dress was probably the biggest turn-on in 
town. "I'll prove it to you, Sandi. We'll go down to the square, and you 
just stand there and let people admire your body, and I'll count the 
number of accidents you cause." "Well, anyway, you can imagine how I 
felt about being told he only went out with me because I look like a man 
..." "You don't, no way, Sandi" "... and I told him he was a simpering 
nancy-boy who wouldn't recognise a real woman if she wrapped herself 
round his oversized plonker. So he said he fancied my fancy-boy more 
than he fancied me, and I asked him what he meant by that crack, and he 
said he meant you, and I said WHAT? and he said, Yeah, I touched him up 
today and he loved it, I bet he can't wait to get his hands on my 
eighteen inches of hard cock-muscle." "I don't fancy him, Sandi, really. 
I'm not into men." "I know that, Bunnikins. And I realized what that 
"bad dream" really was you said you had. Right?" 
 
I unzipped her dress and started peeling it away from her skin. "I 
didn't want to upset you, Sandi. I thought you were in love with him and 
his giant cock, and I didn't want to come between you." Typically, Sandi 
wasn't wearing anything underneath it. I pulled it down round her waist, 
and started to slide my hands over her soft, silky skin. "Well, you can 
say what you like now. I've finished with him. And he's finished with 
me. He's probably finished with women for ever, after what I did to him. 
And men too, maybe." Oh no, my pretty meat-grinder had struck again. 
"What did you do to him, Sandi?" She giggled. "Sandi?" She giggled some 
more. I took one of her nipples in each hand, and rubbed the undersides, 
just the way she loved me to. "Sandi?" "All right, all right, I'll tell 
you." 
 
She counter-attacked me, putting her hands round the side of my waist 
and squeezing gently. I couldn't take it for more than a couple of 
seconds, so I launched myself straight at her, grabbing her hands and 
landing with my full weight on her breasts and belly. I pushed her arms 
down to the bed and said "Pinned you!", and she said "I give up", and I 
let go of her and we rolled around and wrestled some more, and she was 
mine and I was hers, and it was the old Sandi, the Golden Amazon, the 
big strong girl with the hard, competent hands all over me, and she made 
me submit to her a few times before I was exhausted so we finally just 
lay there, snuggling. "I guess I'm the only man who's ever pinned you." 
"Yes, Bunnikins-sweetie." "And DON'T call me BUNNIKINS-SWEETIE!" I 
yelled. Big mistake. She simply rolled over, so that about 180 pounds of 
hard, heavy woman was on top of me, crushing me so flat I couldn't 
breathe. "Sandi, Sandi", I gasped. "Yes, Bunnikins?" she said sweetly. 
"Please Sandi, you can call me anything you want." She rolled off me 
again, and kissed me gently. "So do you want to hear what happened, or 
don't you?" I slid down the bed, so I could reach her soft furry pussy, 
I thought it needed stroking. "Tell me", I murmured into the fur. She 
turned me round, so that I could still play with her crotch, but she 
could stroke my body and legs. 
 
"So after he said that terrible thing about you, Bunny, I told him that 
he wasn't fit to touch the ground you walked on, that he was nothing 
more than a limpdick with a big ego, and that if he ever tangled with a 
real woman, she'd turn him into hamburger. So he said that I was more 
like a man dressed up as a woman, so I pulled my dress off and showed 
him my breasts, and asked him if he'd like to repeat that, so he said he 
was wrong, I was a woman trying to act like a man, and if I ever got 
into a real fight instead of one of those staged things, I'd find out 
what a real man was like. And I said they aren't staged, and he said of 
course they are, how else could a woman wind up the winner, and I said 
because there are soft limpdicks like you around who can't even get it 
up except for a pretty boy, and he slapped my face, and all the rage and 
frustration in me came out." 
 
Oh wow. I mean, like, this guy was not only offering himself to a 
meat-grinder, he was putting himself in and turning the handle. "I just 
ruined him beyond repair. You don't want to know the details, do you?" I 
could imagine. He didn't look that strong to start with, he'd no boxing 
or wrestling training, he'd be like a baby in Sandi's strong arms and 
capable hands. She'd tear him apart like a lettuce. "When I'd finished, 
his face looked like ground meat, I'd broken an arm and a leg, wrecked 
his knees, broken a few ribs and I did something terrible to his prick." 
"What was that, Sandi?" She giggled again. "Bunny, promise you won't 
tell anyone else, even Diana?" "I promise, Sandi, what did you do to 
that humungous dong?" She giggled some more, and I felt a hard, expert 
hand closing round my own, more modest, genitals. "I tied a knot in it." 
 
I couldn't help laughing. I guess it was long enough, and Sandi was 
easily strong enough. I wondered what it would feel like, extremely 
painful, I thought. Serve him right. "Then I tied the knob at the end to 
his balls with my scarf, and knotted that real tight. And then I told 
him if he ever took it off, I'd come and visit him again, and this time, 
I wouldn't be so gentle." My own dick softened in sympathy; just hearing 
about this turned my sphincter muscles to water. 
 
Remind me never to insult Sandi, especially anything to do with sex. 
"But he's *got* to take it off, Sandi, otherwise he won't be able to 
urinate." "I know. But can you imagine, the water pressure fighting 
against the fear of my big hard muscles?" I giggled. She giggled. We 
rolled around on her bed, laughing and crying, wrestling and kissing and 
she kept calling me Bunnikins-sweetiepie and I attacked each time, and 
eventually I was absolutely shagged out, and she wrapped her long, 
strong arms protectively around me, and I held on to one of her breasts 
with both hands, and we slept with my head on her belly. 
 
I told Diana the good news the next day - "Forget Mike, he's history." 
"Oh, that's a pity. I was looking forward to getting my hands on his, 
you know?" I knew. "Diana, Sandi lost her temper with him. It'll be a 
few months before he's up and about, and even then he might not be much 
use to anyone." "Oh, that's a pity", she said, but it didn't sound like 
she really meant it, so I kissed her, and told her that I loved her, and 
one thing led to another, as things often do. 
 
Chapter 44, Bunny's birthday. 
 
June 19th was my seventeenth birthday. Diana got me one great present, 
and Sandi gave me two, one from her and one from both of them, kind of. 
In the morning, I called for Diana as usual on the Bantam, but when I 
got there, she came out of her house wearing a lovely dress and a big 
grin. "Happy birthday, Bunny", and she handed me a birthday card. I 
opened it, and read "To my favorite lover in all the world, lots of love 
from his little girl." It didn't quite rhyme, but who's counting. And a 
key fell out from inside the card. I picked it up and looked at it, and 
Diana led me to the lock that it opened. 
 
Oh, wow. An MGF! Oh, wow. Oh, wow. Oh, wow. I stood there for so long, 
looking at her. She was fire-engine red, an open-top two seater, but not 
any old two seater, a real MG. I'd always hankered after an MGB, and 
this was an MGF! A real sports car, not one of the big open-top clunkers 
like GM and Ford make, but a proper rag-top, a classic, but modern, 
built for reliability. No automatic, no air conditioning, just a car for 
driving. "Sandi helped me get it", Diana said. I grabbed her and kissed 
her. I locked up the Bantam, opened the top of the MGF and we climbed 
in. It was a small car, but there was plenty of space at the front. I 
started up, and discovered the sweetness of her handling, the way she 
went round corners like she was glued to the road. The low driving 
position made any speed seem faster, and she seemed to want to 
accelerate all the time. At the lights, we simply burned up all the 
heavier, automatic-geared lumbering giants. This was THE car. YES! 
 
And, at school, all the girls wanted a ride. The MGF was a definite 
babe-mobile, although I already had all the babes I wanted. But I 
couldn't disappoint them, and I must have gone round the block dozens of 
times before the bell rang for the start of the day. I found Sandi in 
the gym, working hard to convert her twenty pounds of fat into hard 
muscle, and from the looks of it, succeeding. I told her it was the best 
present a guy could have, but she said no, Diana's present was nice, but 
she had something even better for me. No way, I thought. Nothing could 
beat an MGF. 
 
When I drove it home, Mom was horrified. "You'll kill yourself, that 
bike was bad enough, but at least it could only do 50 mph." Dad stuck up 
for me, though. "Nonsense, it's perfectly safe. Power steering and ABS 
brakes make it safer than our old wagon." I saw him looking wistfully at 
the car. "You know, son, when I was your age, I used to read the car 
magazines, and the MGB was the one for me, always. I even drove one, 
once. What an experience. What's yours like to drive?" I stuck out my 
chest proudly, and said "Here's the keys, dad, tell me if you think it's 
as good as the MGB." We drove through the town with the top down, and 
out to the freeway. At 55, the wind blew in my face, and Dad said "We 
need to wind it up to full speed - I know a place." 
 
He took me to an old airfield nearby. It wasn't used much these days, it 
was nice and quiet. There was a perimeter road, and Dad explained to me 
that once you're off the public highways and on private property, the 55 
speed limit doesn't apply. So we took turns circling the airfield at up 
to 130 mph until it started getting dark, and then we went home. Mom 
made dinner, and then as soon as I could get away, I drove round to 
Sandi. 
 
I bounced up to her bedroom, and started telling her about the car. I 
don't think overhead cam shafts are much of a turn-on for Sandi, though, 
and when I told her I'd had it up to 120, she just grinned, and I 
remembered that her bright royal blue Honda Fireblade did 180, no 
trouble. She let me ramble on though, and after I'd bored her enough 
with cubic capacities and turbo charging, she handed me a card. I opened 
it, and inside it said "To Bunny, the best friend a girl ever had." And 
a piece of paper fluttered out, falling on to the floor. I read the 
paper, it was a gift voucher, and it said "This voucher entitles the 
bearer to one fuck." I looked up at her, she was taking off her terry 
dressing gown, revealing underneath the sexiest night-dress I'd ever 
seen, or maybe that was the sexiest woman I'd ever seen. Or maybe both. 
 
The next few hours were everything I'd ever dreamed. Sandi knew exactly 
what she was doing, and how to do it. I don't think she released my 
prick at all, gripping me tightly inside her vagina, and giving me 
orgasm after orgasm until my heart almost gave out. My voice became 
hoarse from screaming out my orgasms, my brain numb from a surfeit of 
pleasure. She let me recuperate from time to time, but didn't give me 
many minutes before starting again. Her big muscular body forced my 
small helpless torso to do whatever she wanted, and what she seemed to 
want was to milk me dry, for ever. Her strong hands held me defenceless 
against her sexual assaults, not that I wanted to be defended. Nothing 
I'd ever had from Diana had prepared me for this, not even the 
Valentine's day experience with Sandi. After an eternity of bliss, she 
let me slip into unconsciousness, but just before midnight, she woke me 
up again. 
 
"No, no more please, Sandi." I murmured, hoping that she'd ignore my 
plea. We talked about life, the universe and everything. I told her that 
she'd just upped her rating to ten out of ten, and that nothing would 
ever compare with this point in my life. "Bunnikins, you're my best 
friend." "And you're mine, Sandi, and you always will be." I thought how 
everyone she'd ever known had let her down; even her mother hadn't been 
able to protect ten-year-old Little Sandi from her step father. "I'll 
never let you down, Sandi", I promised. "I'll always be your friend." 
"And what about Diana?" I thought about that. Yes, I was in love with 
Diana, and yes, we fucked like ferrets, but that didn't mean I couldn't 
be eternal friends with this big, strong muscle girl who was currently 
filling my universe. "Well, Bunny, here's what I'm going to do. Every 
year, on your birthday, you come and spend the night with me, and I'll 
see if I can beat ten out of ten." I think at that moment, I decided my 
life was perfect for ever. "Sandi, you've got yourself a date." And 
then, our bodies pressed closely together, we made a commitment to each 
other, a lifetime bond. We promised each other that no matter who we 
were going out with, who we married, whatever our other relations, Sandi 
and Bunny would be friends for ever and ever. We made a few specific 
promises too, like that we'd fuck twice each year, once on my birthday, 
and once on hers. I knew that Diana wouldn't have a problem with that. I 
told Sandi "I know that you've been let down so many times, by people 
you've trusted. But Sandi, I'll always be true to you. You can always 
rely on me." And she told me that her big strong body would always be 
there if I needed comfort, or protection, or just a shoulder to cry on. 
And I did cry on her shoulder, just a little bit, and she cried on mine, 
and I told her that no other girl in the world was like her, and she 
told me ... well, that's private, I'm not going to say. You don't need 
to know the rest.
 
She kissed me, and said "One more present, Bunny. Come with me." I 
followed her down to the gym in the basement, and she pushed me onto her 
weighing machine. She fiddled with the weights, and then showed me the 
results. I couldn't believe my eyes. "You see, Bunny, you've been 
getting a lot of exercise. That's why you don't bother with your brace 
any more, and that's why you've put on some muscle." Exercise? "No, 
Sandi, I haven't been exercising. I haven't even touched a weight!" She 
laughed, her low musical chuckle. "You don't need weights to exercise, 
Bunny. You've been exercising with Diana." 
 
I saw what she meant. Diana and I were shagging like rugs, at it like 
knives. Not a day went by without at least a quick bonk behind the bike 
sheds, and most days, we did some seriously strenuous sex in Sandi's 
bedroom, sometimes with Sandi watching, or even helping. I suppose I was 
having my end away about fifty times per week. And that's exercise, for 
sure - the sweat was pouring off us by the time we'd finished. Anyway, 
Sandi was right. I wasn't an 85 pound puny runty boy-child any more. I'd 
realized one of my dreams. I was a 97 pound weakling! 
 
The big Interstate High School weightlifting contest was in the middle 
of July, and just like Sandi had predicted, girls were going to be 
allowed to compete against boys. I felt sure that someone high up in the 
contest organisers was wearing a blue silk scarf, either round his neck 
or round his genitals (I was rather proud to have both). 
 
Sandi had insisted on competing in the "unlimited" division, arguing 
that since there were no weight restrictions, she obviously qualified. 
There weren't many 16-year olds in any of the contests, and none in the 
weightlifting events. But, interestingly, she wasn't the only girl in 
the competition; I recognised a couple of the other girls from our 
school there, in the lighter weight class competitions. I'd noticed that 
some of the girls had been copying Sandi in the gym, and trying to build 
up their muscles a bit, but I hadn't realized that any of them had 
gotten advanced enough to enter competitions. 
 
I lost Diana immediately, she was one of the cheerleaders. Being only 
five-nothing was a drawback, but she was so pretty, her body was so 
shapely, and she was so graceful, that she'd made the team. Sandi had 
gotten one of her bodybuilding friends to sit with me, a girl called 
Judy Becker. I think Sandi's idea was that I might need a bodyguard 
amongst all those big, strong strangers. Judy looked like she'd be able 
to handle any problems, and I must say I felt better having her with me, 
even if I did tower five-one in my Cubans, and weighed in at a massive 
97 pounds. Judy was about five-nine, one seventy pounds, and she made 
most of the boys look like wimps. I sat closer to her as the huge 
weightlifters stomped in, shaking the ground with the force of their 
footfalls. Sandi was right, I felt a lot better for Judy's presence, 
these big guys reminded me of my own smallness. 
 
Sandi won, of course, very convincingly. She got four hundred and fifty 
pounds over her head, and the nearest competitor could barely manage 
half that. You could see the bar bending and flexing as she held it over 
her head, waiting for the judges to give her a clean lift, and I for one 
nearly wet myself. Then Judy handed me over to Sandi, and we went and 
watched the wrestling. Sandi had wanted to enter that too, but I talked 
her out of it. I didn't think it was right to put some unlucky 18-year-
old kid through Sandi's meatgrinder, and Diana agreed with me. So we 
watched Judy win her weight class, while Diana did her stuff, with some 
kicks and moves that I thought her parents certainly wouldn't want to 
know about. 
 
I took Diana home in the MGF. A lot of people think you can't fuck in a 
little sports car like that. Well, maybe you can't if you're a six 
footer, but Diana and I managed just fine. What you have to do, is put 
the car into first gear, and release the handbrake, otherwise it gets in 
the way. And I've got this sheepskin over my seat, which I just lay 
sideways across the front seats, which makes it really snuggly and comfy 
for the girl, who tends to be underneath, but not always. And then you 
open the door on the feet side, which lets you stick them out in the 
cool air, and stops it from getting too muggy inside. And if you get the 
rhythm right, the little car rocks and bounces in sync with your 
thrusts, and helps things along famously. You don't get the right 
resonances with a big car - we'd tried it in Dad's big wagon. Oh, and 
don't do it where there are people around - they get a bit umpty about 
it. 
 
Then I went to congratulate Sandi. She had a silver cup which she'd put 
on her mantelpiece, and she was ever so proud of it. I wasn't sure why, 
though, she hadn't had any serious competition. Still, if the Golden 
Amazon's happy, that's good enough for me. And I had some good news for 
her. "Sandi, we've got a fight for you, a proper one." "Oooh goodie, 
when, who with, what's his weight?" She was like a little girl being 
told about a trip to the zoo. "It isn't one guy. There's two of them." 
The problem was, after Sandi's destruction of Bull Wattis, it had been 
impossible to find a fool willing to feed himself into the Sandi Stone 
man crusher. Grosby had offered six figure sums in an attempt to lure 
in a willing victim, but no-one was willing to risk the almost certain 
mutilation that a fight with Sandi would entail. The two-guy idea had 
been mine. I knew that Sandi was itching for a fight, especially after 
the Mike Newmarket disappointment. Sandi said she'd prefer to fight one 
really big guy, but she supposed that two would do. I wondered how we 
would find opponents for her in future - I'd have to give some thought 
to this problem. 
 
Chapter 45 - the fight with Howard and Robbins 
 
I'd done some preparation for her - I had videos of her opponents, and 
some facts and figures. They were both experienced fighters, and they'd 
teamed up many times before, but only in tag matches. For this fight, 
John Robbins weighed in at 270 pounds, six-five; Garth Howard at 280 
pounds, six-four. Both of them had won pretty much all the matches 
they'd ever fought. We watched the videos, and I made notes, but Sandi 
just made disparaging remarks about how soft they looked, how slow they 
moved, and how weak their joints looked. I looked at her - she wasn't 
just whistling in the dark, she really did think they weren't much of a 
threat. "Sandi, don't forget there's two of them. One can get behind you 
while you're dealing with the other one." She nodded. "I'll have to work 
out a plan", she said. 
 
Sandi was laying on her front, her legs spread apart, while Diana and I 
rubbed liniment into the backs of Sandi's thighs, an awesome sight. "Is 
there anything else we can help you with, Sandi?" "Well, we could do a 
bit of sparring together." I gulped. Sandi didn't usually do sparring, 
because she had this tendency to go into meat-grinder mode, which made 
sparring partners a bit hard to find, like dragon's teeth. "Sure, 
Sandi." I said, with maybe a quaver in my voice. Sandi wouldn't hurt me. 
Would she? Maybe I was the only guy in the world not scared of Sandi, or 
maybe I was just a fool. She heard the tremble as I spoke, and turned 
over, sat up and grabbed me. I wrestled with her, trying for some sort 
of hold, but she laughed as she easily controlled me. "Bunny, Bunny, 
stop it! I didn't mean like that." I stopped struggling, I wasn't 
getting anywhere anyway, and said "Well, like what?" 
 
"You fuckhead, you're a pathetic little limpdick with a soft flabby 
body, the only thing that's strong is the smell of your socks." Oh. Like 
that. "Bitch, if your cunt was as big as your mouth, you'd be able to 
get my big hard prick into it." Sandi grinned. "When I've finished with 
your chickenshit body, even your mommy won't recognize her little boy, 
and your prick will be six inches longer, but your balls will be spread 
over the floor." Gulp. Sandi was good at this. Let's see. "You big fat 
cow, only another dyke would fancy you. And after I've done with you, 
only another hamburger would be interested." Sandi smiled, wickedly, and 
flexed her arms. "See these? Sixteen inches of hard steel, just waiting 
to break your bones and tear your muscles apart. They call me the meat-
grinder, because it's suicide to get into a ring with me. I could tear 
your arms off and use them as clubs; I could put these man-crushers 
round your limpdick body and break your ribs, two by two. My fists feel 
like sledgehammers when they rip into your soft, tender body, and if you 
aren't tender, you will be when my fists have smashed you up." Sandi 
lowered her arms and raised one leg. "These are 26 inches of hard 
muscle; hell has no fury like a woman's legs, and these legs can 
pulverise your ribs or crush your skull, whichever I choose, or both. 
You get close enough for these guys to get round you, and you're 
finished. All you'll be able to do is beg me not to hurt you, and hope 
that I don't accidentally use so much power that I kill you. Now get 
down on your knees, kiss my thighs, and beg me not to damage your soft 
body between these man-crackers." 
 
Well, what would you do? I got down on my knees, and kissed her thighs, 
putting my arms round the backs of her knees. Then, I took a good grip 
with my arms round her knees, and pushed against her upper thighs as 
hard as I could with my whole body. Sandi toppled over and landed on the 
ground with a bang, I landed on top of her, and we rolled around 
wrestling and laughing for several minutes. Diana joined us, and for a 
while I wasn't sure who was doing what to who, but it didn't take Sandi 
very long to get control of the situation, and I found myself being 
kissed rather thoroughly by Sandi, while Diana did something rather 
wonderful between my legs. 
 
As far as I could tell, Sandi's plan seemed to be to spend every waking 
hour either lifting or punching. I'd never seen her so focused. In the 
evening, she did a 12 mile run, wearing 10 pound weights on each of her 
ankles, for stamina. When she'd get back, Diana and I would rub oil into 
her tired muscles, and do our best to massage her iron-hard body. I 
don't think we were any real use at massage, Sandi's muscles were just 
too hard for either of us to be able to do anything with them, but all 
of us enjoyed it, which is the main thing. Diana and I also helped to 
toughen her abdominals, by jumping up and down while she laid on the 
floor; barefoot, of course. We found that we got tired long before 
Sandi. We must have spent a month getting ready for that fight, and by 
the time the date came round, Sandi positively glowed with vitality, 
while Diana and I were just glad we could relax. Because now, it was all 
down to Sandi and her strong, iron muscles. 
 
Diana and I drove down in my MGF, Sandi burned down on her Fireblade; 
she was out of sight so fast, I have no idea what speed she was going. 
We met her at the hall where the fight was due, and I was not too 
surprised to see a whole bunch of girls from Salt Mountain High, and 
even a few of the girls. Judy Becker immediately attached herself to 
Diana and I, and I guessed that this was on Sandi's instructions. It's 
nice to have your own personal bodyguard. I craned round to give the 
hall a good look, and by golly, there were a lot of people there. I 
guessed we had a 5,000 crowd, and I estimated that about two thirds of 
them were women, come to see their heroine smash up more men. I also 
noticed that some of the men looked apprehensive, like they were there 
against their will, and didn't like what they were expecting to see. 
 
Robbins and Howard leaped into the ring. I was worried straight off, 
they were both very big men, looking very fit and confident. I don't 
know why Sandi thought they looked slow, they looked agile enough to me. 
Then Sandi climbed in. She was wearing her hair in a ponytail and her 
silk dressing gown, and she looked more like a little girl than a 
merciless and deadly fighting machine. Robbins said something to Howard 
and they both laughed, pointing to her. So Sandi took off her dressing 
gown, put her hands behind her head, and just stood there, staring them 
in the eye. 
 
She was wearing a scarf in her hair, her short skirt, wrestlers boots 
and nothing else, except I spotted a bright blue bandage round one of 
her knees. And I noticed that she wasn't actually limping, not even 
favoring that leg slightly. She stood there, her big sixteen inch arms 
bulging dangerously, her big 39C bust bulging invitingly. "Hey, 
limpdicks, I'm over here. I can put you in hospital by fighting or by 
fucking, which one do you want?" That's my Golden Amazon, always got a 
good line. Robbins and Howard were staring at those big, firm breasts, 
mouths slightly open, a flush on their faces. "What's the matter, never 
seen a girl with such big muscles? Well, I've never seen a man with such 
a small dick - do you think you could get up six inches between the two 
of you?" Sandi knew how to insult where it hurt. "Bitch, after we're 
through with you, you'll be begging for it." "Yeah, like your girlfriend 
begs for it when you can't get it up, which is most nights. Or should 
that be boyfriend? Which of you buggers the other one, or do you take 
turns?" She was quite good at this; sometimes she and I practiced 
together, hurling crude sexual insults at each other until we dissolved 
in giggles. But this was for real. 
 
The referee came on; this was a match where there were a few rules, not 
many. The usual no-submission rule was there, the match could only end 
in a knockout. But eye-gouging and hair-pulling was not allowed, nor 
anything with the genitals. I tried to watch the match, I really did. 
But I was so scared at the thought of Sandi getting hurt, I was scared 
enough for both of us. I hugged Diana close to me, and hid my face in 
Judy's breasts, and only watched the match occasionally. As a result, I 
didn't have a clear idea what had happened, so I asked Sandi. She 
described it to me, but you know there's always two points of view. 

Chapter 46 - the fight with Howard and Robbins, Round One
 
So after the match, I went and spoke to the two guys; I wanted to hear 
what the fight had been like from their point of view. Robbins spoke 
first. "When they ask me to fight a girl, I figure, some kinky outfit 
wants to see some fake wrestling, maybe a rape even. When they say I'll 
be teamed with Howard, I know that something is fishy. Two guys against 
a girl? Get real. But then they send me a tape of her fighting Bull 
Wattis, and it sure don't look fake to me." Howard agreed, "I've seen 
Bull, he's a big tough guy, you can't hurt him with just one punch. But 
in the video, she stops him with a couple of punches, then just about 
tears his arms off, then she finishes him off by breaking his back. She 
picks him up like he's a sack of flour, and just snaps his spine over 
her shoulders. I mean, can a dame do this? I can't believe it's for 
real." "Right, so we visit Bull. He's at home, but lying down, and he 
says they ain't gonna to let him sit up for a few weeks yet, he hasn't 
even thought about walking yet. I ask him how this happened, and he 
says, "Doncha know? I fought Sandi Stone, and she just tore me apart, 
broke my back." "Yeah, so then we know it's real, and we better take 
this seriously. I ask "Bull, got any advice, we're fighting her in a 
couple of weeks." "Yeah," he says, "leave the country, don't get into 
the ring with her, she's brutal, an Amazon." "Come on Bull, there's two 
of us, only one of her, she don't stand a chance." "Boys, I wouldn't get 
into the ring with Sandi Stone if I had ten men with me. That lady's 
like a Sherman tank, she'll just roll over you. I hit her my best shot, 
she didn't even notice it. But when she hit me, it was like someone 
stuck a red hot poker through my gut. And she broke my back like it was 
a rotten stick. You know she didn't just break it? She did it real slow 
and gradual, she held me on her shoulders and pulled down with those big 
strong arms, and each time I thought this is it, this is as bad as it 
gets, all I have to do is endure this, but then each time she bent my 
back some more, and in the end, she just broke it. They say I might be 
able to walk again." Howard looked serious. "Bull was crying when he was 
telling this story, he's real scared of her, even now." 
 
Robbins continued, "So we took her seriously. We made plans, we'd split 
apart, one of us would circle behind her and smack her head, her knees, 
her kidneys, make her hurt real bad. If she faced one of us, the other 
one would move in. That's how you fight, two against one." Howard 
nodded, "And she's a lot smaller than we are, less reach. I can hit her 
while I'm six inches outside her range. If she goes back, Robbie gets 
her, if she comes forward, I do. And we just keep hitting her till the 
bitch gives up. Or till we kill her." 
 
Howard: 
 
So we get into the ring, and this chick gets in on the other corner, 
wearing a red silk dressing gown. I mean she looks real foxy and cute, 
and I figure she's to help with the makeup or something, you know? And I 
nudge Robbie and says, "That one's for me, she's gonna suck my dick 
till she's all sucked out." So then she turns round and I see her face, 
and it's the chick from the video, and she's looking real mean. And 
she's a real pretty dish, you know, but scowling and all, she looks so 
funny, so I laughed out loud. 
 
And then she takes off her dressing gown, and stands facing us, and I 
stop laughing, she's a chunk, you know, but mean. She puts her hands 
behind her head, and I look at those biceps, and I look at mine, and I 
start to wonder. And her abs look like rock, and I remember that Bull 
says his best punch just bounces off. But Jesus, those tits, I'll 
remember those tits as long as I live. She's not wearing a bra, or 
anything on top, so they're naked and they stick out like grapefruit 
halves, and underneath you can see the big pecs holding them up and out. 
And on top, great thick nipples, Jesus, she looks like she sticks out a 
mile there. I nearly lost it just looking at her. This lady was just 
made for fucking, no shit. 
 
Robbins: 
 
Yeah, she's built like a brick shit-house, you know, big tits, high and 
firm, I was near to creaming. But you could see the muscle, and I 
remembered what Bull had said. He's what, 270, 280, but she just picked 
him up and broke him over her shoulders. So then she starts telling us 
what she's gonna do, like very seriously giving us a health warning. And 
she ain't kidding, neither, she looks big and strong... "Not so big," 
Howard interrupted, "maybe five-six, seven" ...OK, she's not so tall, 
but she's plenty wide, and I can see what Bull meant about the Sherman 
tank. "Yeah, and those tits." "Yeah." 
 
So I tell her what I've got planned, namely we rough her up a bit, then 
back to the dressing room for a good fuck. But she just laughs, and says 
the only ones who are gonna get fucked is us, and she's gonna be fucking 
us up. And she sounds real confident, you know, and I remember how she 
hit Bull like a fucking Mack truck, and he's maybe gonna be able to walk 
again, maybe. 
 
Howard: 
 
And then she offered to fight or fuck, our choice. And she called us 
faggots, and pencil-dicks, and little cry-babies. I called her a bitch 
and showed her my big hard fist, and told her the print of my knuckles 
would dent her face, and she laughed and said if I wanted to see a dent, 
just crawl between her legs, and see what she could do with her thighs. 
She was wearing this short little skirt, and you could see like 
everything almost, I mean the skirt comes down to the top of her thighs, 
and then there's nothing till you get to the boots. I mean, you ain't 
never seen nothing like this dame. I mean, like she is Miss Fuck, for 
sure. And then I think of Bull again, his body all fucked-up, and I'm 
not so sure, maybe Miss Fuck is also Miss Fuck-up? But oh, Jesus, those 
tits. 
 
Robbins: 
 
So I look at Howie and he's got a hard-on to beat the band, so I tell 
him "Howie, remember this bitch smashed up Bull, don't get so excited." 
And she said "That's right, asshole. He thought he was so big and 
strong, he just melted in my hands, crumbled just like you two limpdicks 
will. But you keep that thing hard, Howie, and maybe I'll fuck you 
instead of fucking you up. Just wait a couple of minutes till I put your 
friend into hospital, then you and I can get that big hard thing inside 
of me." 
 
Howard: 
 
Now by that time, the bell has gone, and we split up, kind of circling, 
Robbie trying to get behind the bitch, me staring at those big firm tits 
wondering how a girl could do all that stuff to Bull. And she sure is a 
girl, I mean there's no doubt, no doubt at all. But I can't hardly move 
on account of my prick trying to burst through my shorts, and I don't 
know whether I want to fuck or fight. She backs out from between us, and 
I turn towards her, Robbie still trying to circle round behind, but not 
getting too close, you know, we saw on the video how she punched Bull 
out, and neither of us want to taste her fists, but those tits, I'd 
taste those any time. 
 
Robbins: 
 
Howie's not much use by now, he's just staring at her tits. "Come on, 
Howie", I call. "Remember Bull." And the big cow grins like a death's 
head and says "Yeah, remember Bull. I just tore his shoulders up so he 
couldn't fight, he thought he was so big and strong, he was like jelly. 
I made him soft and weak, by ripping off his arms, and then he was all 
mine, just like you're gonna be mine. Come on, Howie. Come and get 
yours." 
 
Howard: 
 
She's so big and hard, Jesus those muscles on her, I'm scared, I 
remember the "crack!" when Bull's back broke, and I know she can do the 
same to me. But those tits, and that belly, and I know what's under that 
short silk skirt, and I feel sucked in and scared off, all at the same 
time. Robbie is still circling, staying away from her fists, but trying 
to get behind her. I'm staring at those thighs, and then she pulls her 
skirt up at the front, and says "Isn't this what you guys want? Isn't 
this soft pussy everything you've dreamed of? I can fuck you till you 
pass out, then fuck some more. I can give you the biggest come of your 
life. Take your shorts off, Howie, and I'll take you to heaven." Oh, 
Christ, and those thighs? I mean, I've seen girls legs before, but never 
nothing like those thighs. Oh, wow, what could she do with those? I 
mean, she could probably fuck a man to death for a start, and what a way 
to go. I just stand there, staring, like I'm paralysed. Any other woman 
I've ever seen looks like nothing compared to Sandi's thighs. 
 
Robbins: 
 
And then she whirls and dives at me, and she's so fast, I can't believe 
how fast it all happens. It's just like Bull said, like someone thrust 
a red hot poker through my gut, then like a hammer over my heart, and I 
don't know where I am and what's happening, and my legs turn to jelly 
and I go down. But Howie, that dumb cluck is supposed to tear in from 
behind her if she does this, and he's just standing there, his mouth 
open and his hard-on almost ripping through his shorts, wondering what 
to do. 
 
Howard: 
 
I couldn't help it, she suddenly turns on Robbie and hits him twice, 
left-right, once in the gut and once on the chest, and he goes down 
like a sack of dirt. And while she's doing that, I'm supposed to come in 
behind and smash her up, one big punch at the base of the spine would 
have finished her, or a couple in the kidneys, and she bleeds 
internally, but I can't move. I guess I had time, but I was paralysed, I 
couldn't decide what to do. Yeah, I know you're not supposed to think, 
you're supposed to act, but I had a hard-on like a pick-ax handle 
sticking out; that makes moving fast pretty difficult. Plus, I got to 
admit, she'd scared me, and I know she isn't bluffing, because we'd both 
seen what happened to Bull. So I hesitate for a few seconds, and then 
it's too late, Robbie's down and she's facing me again, only this time 
she doesn't look sexy no more, she looks like a meat grinder. I feel 
like I'm staring at the gates of hell as I look into her smile. This 
isn't no sexy smile, this is the smile like you see on a cat when she's 
cornered a mouse.
 
Robbins: 
 
I guess she can finish me here and now; I'm all curled up and putting 
all my strength into getting air into my lungs, fighting against the 
terrible pain that shoots up and down my body. And Howie's as much use 
as a cunt in a monastery. I'm all crumpled on the canvas, curled in a 
ball, and she can do anything she likes, kick, stamp, jump on me. 
 
Howard: 
 
She's facing me, those terrible fists held loosely in front of her, and 
I'm not getting close to them. And she walks slowly to where Robbie's 
lying, and he's writhing, gasping, in no shape to do anything. She looks 
down at him, and I think "Goodbye, Robbie", but she just rests one foot 
on his body, and unhhh, look at those thighs, I can't believe the size 
of those thighs, and the muscle so big and thick and hard. Oh, Jesus if 
she ever got those round a guy, he'd be crushed flat. And then the bell 
goes. 
 
Robbins: 
 
We had three minutes between rounds, and I needed all of it just to be 
able to stand up. There was blood in my mouth, I think she'd broken 
something inside of me, and the pain was so bad. I felt like killing 
Howie, this was all his fault, why didn't he go for the bitch when he 
could? What does he think this is, a Saturday Night dance? After a few 
minutes, I could breathe, but only shallow, and every breath hurt. And I 
wanted to throw in the towel, but you can't in these matches. I told 
Howie he had to keep her away from me the next round, let me get my 
breath back. 
 
And she's standing in her corner, rubbing her face with a towel, taking 
a drink, like she's just had a walk in the park. And she calls over to 
us "Hey, limpdicks! You want to fuck or fight? You want to fight, you 
won't get to fuck for a very long time. Bull, he ain't never gonna fuck 
a girl again, and I'm gonna do the same to you guys." Howie laughed, but 
Howie hadn't felt her fist on his flesh. I knew she could do exactly 
what she said. I didn't want to fight this Amazon - hell, I didn't even 
want to fuck her any more. I just wanted to crawl away and lie down 
until the pain went away. 

Chapter 47 - the fight with Howard and Robbins, Round Two
 
Howard: 
 
And then the bell goes for round two. I walked out carefully, making 
sure that Robbie wasn't too far away. I didn't have an erection no more, 
seeing what happened to Robbie fixed that. She saw it had gone, and 
started in on me. "What's the matter, big boy, where's the hard meat 
gone? Howie sucked you off, did he? Or does seeing a real woman turn you 
off?" She put both hands behind her back and twisted her arms, so that 
her biceps swelled to a frightening size, but not as big as her breasts, 
which stuck out like melons, held up by those big pecs. "Come on, 
limpdick, come and get hurt, let me punish your body, damage your 
muscles, break your bones. Come on and dance with me." She reached up 
and undid her ponytail, and shook her hair over her shoulders. Jesus, 
what a body on that girl, enough for two ordinary women. Plus, enough 
muscle for two ordinary men. 
 
Robbie stays close to me, he doesn't want another dose of her fists. 
After a while, she gets fed up with posing and taunting, and she starts 
to walk towards us. Well, I've already decided how to handle this, I'm 
going to let her have Robbie again. So I back off and leave Robbie to 
face her by himself, but she walks straight past him, and Oh, Jesus, no, 
she's still heading for me. As she goes past Robbie, he lashes out at 
her, but the damage she's done to him makes takes most of the force out 
of his arms, and she just sneers at him, doesn't even bother to hit 
back, just keeps on heading for me. 
 
Robbins: 
 
Howie just kept going back and back, and she kept going towards him, and 
I remembered what Bull said about the Sherman tank. As she went past me, 
I did my bit, like we'd agreed, as soon as she had her back to me I hit 
her. But there wasn't any real power in my arms, on account of the 
terrible pain in my body, and she just ignored me, it really was like 
hitting a tank for all the good it did. I hit her a couple more times, 
and then she caught up with Howie, and for the first time, he felt what 
I'd felt. She crowded in real close to him, and I could see her fists 
plunging into his belly; at first he had his arms up to defend himself, 
but before long, they were just dangling at his side. She kept her 
shoulder under his chest to keep him upright, and her fists must have 
travelled no more than six inches for each blow. But I could hear a 
sound like a hammer hitting meat, followed by the grunt as the air was 
driven out of his body as her fists worked their way deeper and deeper 
into Howie's stomach, ripping his guts apart. I remembered the red hot 
poker that one punch had delivered to me, and I wondered how he could 
handle the pain she was giving him. I think he was out on his feet, only 
held up by this powerful woman's shoulder. And I could hear the thud, 
thud as she systematically tore up his insides with those terrible 
fists. 
 
I could have intervened, tried to pull her off him, but what man would 
have the courage to do that? I just stood in terror, knowing that when 
she finished with Howie, she'd turn and finish me. After a very long 
time, the bell rang, and she stepped back, and let Howie sink to the 
canvas. He was finished, I knew. 
 
Howard: 
 
The first time she uppercuts to my gut, I tense my abs to protect me 
against the punch. In spite of that, it hurts more than I would have 
expected a girl to be able to hurt me. For the second punch, I bring my 
arms up to protect myself and tense my stomach muscles again, but the 
pain from her first punch robbed them of much of their strength, so her 
second punch feels like it really got through. As her third punch drives 
into me, the pain in my belly means that I can't crunch my muscles up a 
third time, and her fist feels like a sharp spike penetrating my flesh. 
 
My arms are hanging uselessly by my side. I try to move them, but they 
won't obey the commands of my brain. I'm helpless, held up by the 
heavily muscled girl pressing me against the ropes. Her fist is like 
someone stabbing a sword into my belly, again and again, over and over. 
If it isn't for her shoulder keeping me up, I'd slump to the canvas, but 
again and again her fist smashes into my stomach. She pauses for a 
moment, pushes me upright, and sneers at me. "Are we having fun yet? I 
am! How does it feel to have a pretty girl like me, turn your body into 
hamburger? You're a big strong man, can't you stop me?" She lets me rest 
for a little while, lets the pain ebb slightly, so that I can feel the 
next punch like fire in my belly. Each time her fist drives deep into 
me, a fresh wave of agony floods through my body; I no longer have any 
way to defend myself as she pounds my gut with her pile-driver fist. 
"What happened to the man who was going to fuck me till I couldn't 
move?" Her fist smashed deep into my stomach, tearing my intestines. 
"What happened to that lovely big erection you had?" The pain burns deep 
into my body, making me want to vomit, but I don't have the strength. "I 
thought you wanted to put your big hard dick into my soft little pussy?" 
Whack. Crash. How can a woman hurt me so much? I feel like crying, I 
just want her to stop, please stop. Each time I sag forward to fall, the 
force of her punch sends me back against the ropes. I can see the 
writhing muscles of her back, and the shoulder that is stopping me from 
falling. But most awfully, I can see that terrible great arm pull back 
and plunge forward, again and again into my mangled stomach. "I'm 
enjoying this, aren't you? Pain, lots of pain; can you feel the injuries 
inside you? Can you feel my fist, crushing your internal organs against 
your spine?" That's what it begins to feel like, as if her knuckles are 
disintegrating my vital parts, penetrating through the muscle and flesh 
that she's already turned to jelly. I begin to cough blood; she's 
smashed up something badly inside me. 
 
And then I'm left alone with my pain. I guess the bell must have gone, 
because she steps away from me, and I just flop to the ground onto my 
face, and lay there as wave after wave of pain and nausea sweep over me. 
I think I vomited, I'm not sure. I know I'm bleeding through my mouth, I 
can see my red blood on the white canvas. My skin isn't broken, I'm 
bleeding inside. I need to get to a hospital. 
 
Robbins: 
 
While the big-breasted muscle girl is destroying Howie with her fists, I 
watch in terror. There is no surrender in this match, I can't just give 
up, though God knows I want to. When she finishes with him, she'll turn 
on me, and I remember talking to Bull, and his advice "She's an animal, 
don't get into the ring with her." And I thought about him sitting in a 
chair, crippled from his encounter with Sandi Stone. How could I have 
been so stupid as to think I could survive her terrible muscles? I 
thought I'd better try to do something, anything, while she's busy with 
Howie, but apart from punching her as she passed me, which she didn't 
even notice, I'm just too scared. Maybe if I don't make her angry, 
she'll be satisfied by smashing up Howie? 
 
The bell goes, and she steps back from the broken wreck that used to be 
a 280 pound, six-four fit, strong, healthy man. I'm appalled at what 
Howie looks like now. There's blood spilling from his mouth down his 
chest, his belly and sides are purple and his stomach looks like it is 
caved in. Howie just slumps to the mat and lies there, unmoving, 
probably unconscious, maybe even dead. She leans on the ropes in her 
corner, drinking from a water bottle. She wipes her mouth and smiles at 
me. "Ready to dance?" I look at Howie, then back at the meat grinder who 
tore him up, and I feel real fear. She isn't going to let me off 
lightly. She's going to do me some real damage like she has Howie, and 
I'm not going to be able to stop her. I think fast - what does she want? 
What can I offer her? "Remember Bull? He told me you'd visited him, he 
warned you not to mess with me or you'd get hurt. Now it's time to 
party!" She flexes her arms and closes her fists, and I feel sick, 
thinking of what she's done to Howie with those biceps powering those 
fists. "You think you've got anything to match these, limpdick? How many 
punches do you think you can take? Howie took nineteen, that's pretty 
good. You think you can match him?" I keep my mouth shut, I don't want 
to piss her off. She looks relaxed and happy, like a kid looking forward 
to a treat. Trouble is, I think I'm the treat. 

Chapter 48 - the fight with Howard and Robbins, Round Three

Robbins:
 
The bell goes for round three, and I do the best thing I can think of. I 
fall to my knees and start begging her not to hurt me. She walks up 
close to me, and I can see those thighs, and I think of tree trunks, and 
nut crackers, and car crushers. I look up at her; she's got a pretty 
face, even at this angle. Her breasts thrust out proudly, I can see the 
big nipples standing out like strawberries, and even now I want to 
touch them. Her hands are resting lightly on her hips, and I can see the 
hard knuckles that ripped Howie apart, and the thick arms that drove her 
fists into his belly. "Please, you're so much stronger than me, please 
don't, I give, I surrender." "Pah. You're pitiful." "Pity me, have 
mercy." 
 
"I have no mercy. Once you're in this ring with me, you take whatever I 
give you. Look at Howie, that's what you're going to get. And then I'm 
going to finish him off." Oh, Christ, she hasn't finished with Howie? 
Surely she can't hurt him any more that she has? And then I think of 
Bull, and his broken back, and I know I'm in the worst trouble of my 
life. "What do you want, I'll give you anything you want." "Yes, there 
is something I want." "What is it, I'll give it to you." "What I want is 
a broken limpdick man on his knees in front of me, begging for his 
life." "Please ..." "There's just one thing wrong. You're not broken 
enough." 
 
She bends over me, her breasts brushing against my face, and pulls me 
upright against her body. I can't help myself, I have an erection, I 
know it's a bad idea. It's just that she's so sexy and so dominant, and 
I just can't help myself. She looks down and sees my prick straining 
against my shorts, and she laughs. "Lookee here, Robbie's got a hard-
on." And she reaches down and rips off my shorts. My dick rises against 
her rock-hard body, rubbing against her washboard abs, and I know I 
can't control this thing. But she can; I feel an iron clutch on my balls 
as her hand grips my groin. Then her other hand crushes round my throat, 
and in a daze of pain, I feel myself being lifted off the ground and 
held over her head. Any movement brings acute agony to either my balls 
of my throat as she shows me to the audience, and then hurls me to the 
ground in a slam that took away my breath and my strength. 
 
I'm barely aware of the audience, but I can hear them chanting her name, 
over and over. She pulls me to a sitting position, then hoists me up in 
the air again. This time she spins me round and round until the world 
whirls by, then tosses me up in the air, to land with a solid thump on 
the ring floor. 
 
Howard: 
 
I wake up in dreadful agony, the pain like fire over my whole body. I 
remember the man-eater Sandi Stone, and the appalling violence she'd 
done to my body with her smashing fists, and I thought I must be in 
hospital. I look round, and there's Sandi, her hands clenched over her 
head, shaking them at the audience. Painfully, I turn my head and saw 
Robbie, sprawled out on the floor of the ring. She turns and I half-
closed my eyes, maybe if I play dead she won't notice me. But I have to 
watch, like a terrified rabbit has to watch the predator stoat. 
 
She strides over to Robbie; his arms and legs flopped loosely in her 
hands. She gathers him up in her arms, and presses his body high over 
her head. In that position, her arms held high and her back arched, she 
looks both wonderful and terrible, and to my amazement and horror, I 
felt my prick stiffen in arousal. She drops him again and again, letting 
his big body crash to the floor. The impacts make the whole ring 
tremble, and I see his body bounce a few inches before settling back and 
lying still. I can hear the crowd chanting, no, screaming "San-di, kill, 
San-di, kill, San-di, kill". She stands and watches as his body twitches 
on the canvas, his nervous system overloaded with conflicting pain 
signals. She picks him up one more time, and then crashes his back down 
over her thigh. I heard the bell go, and closed my eyes. The ordeal was 
over at last. 
 
Robbins: 
 
She knows how to inflict pain, that's for sure. My body was so torn up, 
I couldn't think even. My whole universe was the terrible pain she put 
my body through, and yet she knew when to let up, to stop me losing 
consciousness. She was a Princess of pain, a Goddess of grief, an Amazon 
of agony. Her powerful muscles could take me to the edge of hell and 
hold me there. But in the end, her great strong muscles took away all my 
pain; as my body rolled off her thigh the agony left me and I was at 
peace again. I loved her for what she had done to me, she was my goddess 
and my mistress. I felt jealous as the bell rang for round four and she 
abandoned me for Howie. 
 
Chapter 49 - the fight with Howard and Robbins, Round Four

Howard: 
 
I hear the bell ring again, and open my eyes. She's walking toward 
me, those huge thigh muscles gathering and bunching at each step. I 
think, it's over. It must be over. I can't take any more pain. She's 
bending down, I can't stand this. She's being gentle with me, helping me 
stand up, but my belly is on fire, something's torn inside of me. She 
murmurs in my ear "It's your turn again, babycakes. Come play with me." 
I whisper, "Please don't hurt my belly any more, I think I'm dying". 
"Don't worry, lover. I'm not going to hurt your soft little belly." She 
holds me up against her body; I'm ten inches taller and 120 pounds 
heavier, but that doesn't count for beans. My head sags down onto her 
shoulder, and I start crying, partly from the pain, and partly from the 
fear of what this female man-smashed will do next. She's still being 
gentle, pulling me against her hard body. I can feel her unyielding 
breasts and nipples against my tenderized stomach. She rubs herself from 
side to side against me. My god! I'm having an erection again. She looks 
down, sees it, and smiles sexily up at me. She pulls off my shorts like 
she did Robbie, and holds my prick gently in her hand. I'm terrified she 
might crush it, or rip it off, but I hurt inside too much to be able to 
do anything. "Please", I moan. 
 
She releases my prick for a moment, pulls the scarf from her hair, and 
wraps it round my stiff, hard cock. Now I remember, this is what she did 
to Bull, just before she broke his back. "Oh, please, no, please don't, 
please..." Then she ties the scarf round my balls, and knots it in 
place. "No, please, whatever you want I'll do, please don't ...". The 
tears stream down my face as I quail before the woman who could castrate 
me with a flick of her wrist. Her voice was as soft as silk, her body as 
hard as iron. "Now, loverboy, you've got my scarf round your prick and 
your balls, now you're mine, for ever, you do whatever I want, any time, 
any place, you understand, limpdick?" I whimpered, "Yes, anything only 
please ..." "The scarf stays right here, right where I put it, always, 
you understand, fuckface?" "Oh, Sandi, I won't ever take it off, I'm 
yours ..." "Good. Now to make sure you remember ..." 
 
She puts her arms round me, caressing my back with her hands, moving 
lower and lower until she links her hands behind my back. She offers her 
face to me, asking for a kiss. I cannot refuse her, she has me in her 
power, I'm totally submissive to this all-powerful woman. She closes her 
eyes, and I lower my mouth toward her lips. As my lips brush hers, I 
feel her fist in my backbone, and then she pulls me towards her. My 
erection rises as her nipples dig into my chest, then her arms grow hard 
and strong as she begins to squeeze. My tormented belly begins to hurt 
at first, but that pain is soon eclipsed by the flash of agony from my 
lower back. Soon, great waves of suffering crash through my body as her 
iron-hard muscles crush my ribs against her chest. Those breasts, which 
I'd thought to be so big and soft, don't do anything to cushion my chest 
against her strength. Then, she increases the pressure and leans 
slightly forward, twisting her fist against my lower spine and bending 
me backwards. "Unhh, urrgh, you're killing me" I gurgle. "No I'm not, 
sugarplum, you don't escape little Sandi that easily." The pressure on 
my vertebrae causes so much pain that it makes my head swim. She looks 
up at me and smiles sweetly. "I'm really enjoying this. Aren't you? 
Don't you like it when a girl cuddles you?" "Unhh" is all I can manage. 
She increases the pressure again. I can't breathe, my belly and lungs 
are on fire. She relaxes her grip just before I pass out from lack of 
air, then slowly brings me back to the same point of suffering. "Is 
little Sandi cuddling you too hard, then?" she asks, happily. I can hear 
the pleasure in her voice, she's really getting a kick out of using 
those big hard muscles to damage my body. I'm beyond being able to 
answer. She increases the pressure again - she seems to take great 
pleasure in hurting me up to a point, and letting me get used to that 
much pain, before slowly tightening the vise. "I could break your spine, 
honeybun, make you into a basket case with just my arms." "Unhh" I'm 
so helpless compared to this powerful girl, how could I ever have been 
insane enough to get into a ring with her? "You're just another soft, 
weak man, just another limpdick, just another guy who thought he could 
stand up to a girl. I can crush you to death with my mighty female 
muscles, and you couldn't stop me. Come in, cry for me, I like a man who 
cries." 
 
I'm crying like a baby. My body sags in her arms, my tears falling 
between us into her thickly muscled chest, onto her big, firm breasts. I 
am totally impotent to stop her doing whatever she wants to me. I'm only 
glad that she has her arms round me, and not her legs. I've seen those 
thighs close up, I didn't want to even imagine the power they could 
exert. I whimper again as she increased the constriction. Now I can't 
breathe again, and I feel my ribs bending. The sharp pain in my spine 
competes with the agony from my belly, but the fire in my lungs is what 
hurts the most. Her strong arms prevent me from inhaling, and without 
air, I begin to black out. I feel one rib break, then another and 
another. It feels like an inferno inside my chest, a blaze of fiery 
pain. She could kill me as easily as this, and there isn't a thing I can 
do to stop her. Dimly, as if in the distance, I hear a bell ring, and 
then the terrible pains ease, and I slide to the floor. 
 
Robbins: 
 
I lay on the floor, watching her and Howie. Howie has his erection back, 
and she's standing up with him, kissing him, holding him in her arms. 
Her hand slides down to his shorts, feels what's there, then pulls his 
shorts off so that she can stroke his big hard cock. She pulls the scarf 
from her hair, and wraps it round his cock and balls, speaking softly to 
him all the time. Then, she takes him in her arms again, and I see her 
hands gliding over his back, stroking and caressing him. Howie's 
erection is bigger than ever now, and they kiss again. Her kiss makes 
him groan with pleasure, her arms round his body holding him close. 
Somehow, she stops him from coming, but I hear him moan, and again, and 
cry out. I wish I could be in Howie place, but she ignores me and keeps 
on loving Howie, her arms wrapped round him. Just as the bell rings, he 
faints and slides down inside her arms to the floor, out cold. What a 
woman! What an Amazon!
 
I hear the bell again, for round five. She walks towards me, and I can't 
take my eyes off her breasts, her nipples, her soft blonde hair flowing 
round her shoulders. She kneels down close to me. My body is still 
paralyzed from the terrible slams, my arms and legs are still twitching, 
I can't control them. But there's no pain, none at all. She is so 
beautiful, and I know she isn't going to hurt me any more. She takes off 
the blue scarf from round her knee, and gives it to me, tying it gently 
round my naked genitals. My cock stiffens as she gently strokes it, then 
she knots the scarf securely in place. "Promise me you'll never take it 
off." I gaze adoringly in her eyes and whisper "I promise." "Time for 
the Rapture of the Goddess, sweetikins." 
 
She tries to help me to my feet, but my legs just don't seem to work any 
more. I would put my arms round her, but I can't lift them. So she lifts 
me like a little baby, she's so strong, I feel totally subservient to 
her now. Her soft blonde hair tickles my chest as she holds me in her 
arms, then she raises me to her shoulders. She's going to carry me; her 
strong hard body is going to look after me, make sure I'm taken care of. 
I love her, adore her, worship her, and I try to tell her so, but now 
she has me on her back, her strong shoulders supporting my body, her 
arms securely wrapped round my thigh and shoulder, and she pulls me 
close. There's no pain, none at all, just pleasure, the pleasure of 
skin-to-skin contact with my goddess, my femme fatale. Closer and closer 
she pulls me, and the pleasure becomes more accentuated; I can feel the 
thrills running up and down my body. My erection stands high and proud; 
she's enhancing my ecstasy by making my hips project high into the air. 
Her strong, beautiful arms pull my thighs and shoulder closer, closer; 
my back arches under the wonderful, erotic pressure of her big muscles, 
until the final Rapture of the Goddess strikes me with a crack, like a 
wooden plank breaking and my body loses consciousness. 

Chapter 50 - In the Hospital
 
Bunny: 
 
I sat there in the hospital between their beds. Howard's entire chest 
was in plaster; the record showed five broken ribs, and one of them had 
punctured a lung. I could see that every breath he took was painful. But 
the main damage was inside his abdomen. They'd had to remove about half 
of his intestines, so badly damaged they were beyond repair. He could 
only take liquids, and was not likely to ever be able to handle solid 
food again. The surgeons had also removed much of his liver, which was 
torn and broken, and one of his kidneys, which meant that he would have 
to be very careful with his sugar intake, and couldn't ever touch 
alcohol again. 
 
But he was the lucky one. Robbins was clinically insane. His back was 
broken, his legs paralysed, perhaps for ever. But the greater damage was 
to his mind. He truly believed that Sandi loved him, that she'd taken 
away the pain and healed the damage to his body. Certainly he loved her 
with a worshipful respect, he spoke of her as "his Goddess". He babbled 
about how he and Sandi would get married and how he would adore her, 
devote his life to her every whim, and how she would repay him by giving 
him the pleasure that only Sandi Stone's big hard muscles could bestow. 
His mind had been twisted by the terrible beating that she'd given him. 
 
I sat between them, the cripple and the madman, thinking about how the 
devils inside Sandi drove her to the destruction of these hapless men, 
whose only misfortune had been to be at the wrong place at the wrong 
time, and to believe that they could stand up to the terrible fighting 
abilities of Sandi Stone, the high-school meat grinder. 
 
Diana had visited the hospital with me, but they wouldn't let her into 
the ward. Howard reacted in fear to girls with blonde hair, and the 
nurse took one look at Diana, and explained the situation. I left her 
outside with Judy; if Diana would have scared Howard, Judy would have 
terrified him. 
 
I sat talking to them for an hour. Howard cried a few times as he told 
me his tale, and I stroked the back of his hand to soothe him. Robbins 
talked proudly about Sandi and her power, boasting about his 
relationship with her, and how she'd made his aches and pains disappear 
with her soothing muscles. As I looked at the reality of his broken 
body, I could understand why his mind had refused to accept the fact of 
a life in a wheel chair, or even bedridden. I didn't do anything to 
disturb his deranged fantasies. 
 
After my visit, I was very down. I wasn't too worried about Howard and 
Robbins, they weren't my problem. But I was worried about Sandi, about 
her psychological state. On the way home, Judy held me from behind and 
comforted me with her strong arms, while I held Diana. And as soon as 
Judy had gone, I told Diana about what Sandi had done. 
 
She was also very worried, and pointed out that we wouldn't be able to 
find opponents for Sandi after they'd visited the two men. But I'd 
thought that about Bull Wattis, and I was wrong. Men have an 
overwhelming ego, and are simply unable to accept that a pretty, sexy 
girl has the strength to destroy their soft bodies. I had no trouble 
accepting this myself, but when you're four-eleven and 85 pounds (even 
at my current 97 pounds) you don't have too many illusions. 
 
I held Diana in my arms as we talked about Sandi, and we kissed and 
cuddled and tried to think what to do. But one thing was clear to me; 
the damage that had been done to Sandi as a child had gone deep, very 
deep, and if she carried on the way she was going, she was going to 
damage a large number of men, physically and psychologically. I decided 
to visit Bull Wattis, to see for myself what she'd done to him. 
 
I went to his home, and found him sitting in a wheel chair. He could use 
his legs, but only painfully. Physiotherapy was starting to help, but 
what I saw was a broken cripple. I asked him about his injuries; he was 
quite open about them. "I fought no-submissions once too often. It's a 
barbaric sport, and ought to be banned. I was too arrogant to believe 
that I could ever get hurt; they called me 'the man who felt no pain'". 
He showed me some pictures of himself, before his encounter with Sandi; 
a big, hefty bear of a man, the sort of man you wouldn't want to meet in 
a dark alley. Then he took off the blanket covering his body, and I was 
shocked at how in a few short months of enforced idleness, his big 
muscles had wasted away. "I'm 180 pounds now, and I can't stand up 
straight. I was 265 pounds of solid muscle, before I met ..."  
 
His voice choked. I waited for him to continue. "... before I met ..." 
and he trailed off again. He couldn't even say her name. "Sandi Stone", 
I prompted. He nodded, and I could see tears on his eyes. "She handled 
me like I was nothing, broke my back over Her shoulders. She's ... I ... 
Did She fight those two men?" "Yes, Bull, she did." "I told them they 
were fools. Did either of them survive?" I told him that one of them 
would be fine after a few months in hospital, apart from the damage to 
his internal organs, but that the other one was clinically insane, and 
would probably have to be kept in an institution, for his own 
protection." He nodded. "I can see that She might do that to someone." 
 
I sat and waited to see what else he might say. "Don't go near Her, 
She's pain and death. She'll destroy anyone who She wants to. Are you 
going to fight Her?" I shook my head, gesturing at my small, slender 
body. "I couldn't fight anyone, Bull. I'm her friend." "She doesn't have 
friends, young man, She has prey. She'll play with you until you break, 
like She did to me. Then, when you're worthless, She'll toss you on the 
garbage." 
 
There was a long silence. I wanted to tell Bull about the wonderful girl 
that I knew as Sandi Stone, externally hard, cruel and sadistic, but 
internally a soft, vulnerable, gentle girl who let me crawl into her bed 
for a cuddle whenever I wanted to. "I wish I could touch Her just once 
more", he said wistfully. "Such a strong, hard body She had." I thought 
of how right he was. "While we were in the ring, I couldn't take my eyes 
off Her nipples. She fights bare-breasted, you know, like the classical 
Amazons. I had an erection almost right through the match." "Was that 
why you lost?" I asked. "Oh no, I lost because She's far stronger and 
tougher than I am. I hit Her once, you know. It was like punching a tree 
trunk. I think She let me do it just so that I could see how hard She 
is. Then She almost tore my arms off, both of them. It was like being 
pulled apart with a hydraulic ram. She almost ripped them off at the 
shoulders; I still can't lift them properly." He showed me how he could 
barely raise his arms to shoulder height. "They tell me She stretched 
the tendons, and tore some of the ligaments. They tell me I should get 
most of the movement back, but I'll never have any strength in my arms." 
 
"What else did she do to you, Bull?" He looked up at me. "You're Her 
friend?" he asked. I nodded. He pushed down the blanket in his lap, and 
opened his pyjama trousers. I could see the blue silk scarf. "She gave 
me this, it's like a love token. You see, She had to hurt me, She had 
to, to win the fight. She wouldn't hurt me otherwise." I looked at the 
pitiful wreck, trying to come to terms with the destruction of his body 
and his life-style. "I wear it all the time, to prove I love Her." I 
could half-see what he meant; I fingered the scarf round my own neck, 
and his eyes followed my hand. "I see you are a friend of Hers." I 
nodded. "Tell Her I'm waiting, I'll always be waiting, I'm Hers for 
ever." I nodded, trying not to let him see me blinking back the tears. 
 
Chapter 51 - Little Sandi

The next morning, I went to see Sandi. She was downstairs in her home 
gym, working out as usual. The sweat glistened on her powerful body as 
her hard muscles lifted and lowered immense masses of iron. I stood and 
watched, and marvelled at the audacity of any man who would stand 
against her. Her muscular body would turn any opponent into mush, 
breaking his body to a shattered ruin and twisting and warping his mind 
as his brain tried to come to terms with its wrecked flesh. I stood and 
watched, contrasting in my mind the hard and deadly fighting machine 
that destroyed men, with the gentle, laughing Sandi that I loved so 
much. The paradox could only be explained by the existence of two Sandi 
Stones. One was the beautiful, strong, confident muscle woman, currently 
lifting and lowering nearly 400 pounds of iron, just to give her arms a 
workout. This Sandi could laugh and play, tickle me until I begged for 
mercy, then let me roll over her and pin her to the bed. This Sandi 
would kiss me until my head swam, and then use her strong hands to rip 
incredible orgasms from my willing body. This was the Sandi I loved. So 
who was the other Sandi? 
 
She finished pumping the heavy metal up and down, and came and sat next 
to me. I could smell the pungent sweat on her body; I turned to her and 
touched the cleft between her breasts. "Sandi, I need to talk with you, 
seriously." She shook her hair sensuously over her shoulders, and put 
her hand on my groin. My penis leaped up to greet her, and she squeezed 
it gently. "What is it, Bunnikins?" How could I concentrate when she 
handled me like this? I just moaned softly and put my hands on her 
sides, leaning forward into her body. She stood up and led me to the 
bathroom. 
 
We spent at least an hour under the hot water, taking turns to soap each 
other's bodies. I loved the feel of her soft, smooth skin covering the 
hard, ridged muscles of her powerful body. She felt to my fingers like a 
coiled spring, full of potential energy, ready to explode with power. 
She brought me to three screaming orgasms under the hot shower, I was 
completely unable to prevent her total control of my body. When you're a 
97 pound weakling, even an ordinary woman is a bit too much, and Sandi 
was too much for two strong men. It wasn't completely one-sided, though. 
I knew where Sandi's weaknesses were, and I played on them unmercifully. 
Her nipples could be used as a measure of the state of her arousal, and 
as they became harder, Sandi became softer. And if I wanted her to 
surrender to me, I knew that the most likely line of attack was her 
clitoris, which was long and thick. In fact, when Sandi was at maximum 
arousal, her clitoris was almost as big as my penis, which admittedly 
isn't saying that much. But it was so sensitive, I could make her shriek 
with delight just by stroking it with both my hands. 
 
But to really get Sandi going, I used the Triangle of Submission; this 
was nothing like the Double Triangle of Domination that she used to make 
men into docile slaves, but something I thought out for myself. To work 
the triangle, you need two hands and a tongue, and the woman has to 
provide two nipples and a clitoris. You can match these triangles any 
way you want, provided you attack all three places at once. If you do it 
carefully (and I'd practiced a lot on Diana before I tried it on Sandi) 
you can reduce even a strong woman to a quivering, sobbing, begging heap 
of soft submissive flesh. This was the first time I'd used the Triangle 
of Submission on Sandi, and although it worked extremely well on Diana, 
I wasn't sure that Sandi would even let me apply it, and even less sure 
that it would have a similar effect. I needn't have worried. Sandi 
actually co-operated with me, and after a while, I had her begging me to 
stop. I knew she didn't mean it, of course - if she had, she'd simply 
have taken my wrists in her strong hands. 
 
Eventually, she decided we'd had enough, and she carried me to her 
bedroom. We used fluffy towels to dry each other, and Sandi managed to 
give me another small orgasm while she did that. 
 
"Bunny, I do like to make your body sing with pleasure." She held me in 
two arms, each as big as my thighs, but considerably stronger. My head 
rested on one of her breasts, and I gently licked at her big nipple. 
"Sandi, I want to talk to you." "Mmmh?" "No, not you. The other Sandi, 
the one that comes out when you fight." "What do you mean, Bunny?" 
"Sandi, close your eyes" "Mmmmh?" I moved up the bed until her head was 
cradled in my arms, her breasts pressing against my hips. I cuddled her 
head close, and stroked her hair. "Sandi, little Sandi, my little lovely 
Sandi, close your eyes and listen to me." I sang a lullaby to her "Go to 
sleep my little baby" and rocked her in my arms. The orgasms I'd given 
her acted as a soporific and I felt her big hard muscles relax. "Little 
Sandi, baby Sandi, tell me what you're scared of and I'll make it go 
away." 
 
"I'm scared of the bad men", she said, in a soft voice. I kissed her, 
rocked her and stroked her head. "Little Sandi, I won't let the bad men 
hurt you." "No, I'm scared of them and they'll hurt me. I've got to hurt 
them first, smash them up so they can't hurt me any more." "Little 
Sandi, don't be scared, you don't have to be scared any more, we won't 
let the big bad men hurt you any more." 
 
I was talking to the other Sandi, Little Sandi. I had thought about 
this, long and hard. My Sandi was big, strong and confident, but the 
other Sandi was small and scared. Little Sandi was a ten-year-old girl, 
hearing her mother scream with pain, waiting for her step father to come 
into her room to give her another beating. Little Sandi had been 
beaten many times by the brute, and had been lucky enough to stop it 
eventually. Little Sandi just wanted to protect herself, just wanted the 
big horrid man to leave her alone, but knowing that he wouldn't. Little 
Sandi hated any big strong man, because he was like her step father. 
Little Sandi was the personality that took over from Big Sandi when she 
felt threatened. 
 
When Sandi was confronted with any dangerous situation, Little Sandi 
took over. Little Sandi was ruthless and dangerous, and had no empathy 
for her persecutors. Like any young child, Little Sandi was devoid of 
any feeling of compassion, and had no mercy. All that Little Sandi 
wanted to do, was reduce the threat to a battered, sobbing wreck, and 
she didn't care if she did permanent damage in the process. Little Sandi 
was just trying to protect herself, and her Mommy. 
 
"I'm scared, I'm scared, they do bad things to me and to Mommy." "Little 
Sandi, we can protect you, the bad men can't touch you." "Yes, they can, 
they hurt Mommy and then they hurt me, I'm so scared, I want to make 
them stop hurting me." 
 
I rocked her and whispered in her ear. I could see I was right about the 
problem, I just didn't know what I could do about it. The beautiful sexy 
girl I was in love with, was not the ruthless sadistic man-destroyer 
that everyone thought she was. Big Sandi was as sweet and gentle as a 
girl could be. The meat grinder was a ten-year-old girl who had the 
powerful muscles of a sixteen-year-old bodybuilder, but without the 
social responsibility and conscience of the older girl. I suppose that 
the clinical term for this situation is schizoid paranoia, with the 
second personality emerging at times of extreme stress. And I realized 
that I didn't have the knowledge or skill to do anything about it. But 
certainly the understanding helped me, helped me to sympathize and 
forgive what Big Sandi didn't have responsibility for. How could you be 
angry with a ten-year-old who thought she was defending her mother and 
herself? 
 
Little Sandi (or was it Big Sandi?) fell asleep, her head cuddled to my 
chest. And I wondered how I could help my best friend, Big Sandi, to re-
integrate her personality with Little Sandi, without the terror that 
Little Sandi obviously felt, affecting Big Sandi? I fell asleep wresting 
with the problem, my soft penis nestling between Sandi's breasts. 
 
I talked to Diana about Little Sandi and Big Sandi, and she agreed that 
it sounded right. "Bunny, she's all right with you, and with me. I've 
always wondered why she's so sweet and lovely most of the time, and then 
suddenly she turns into the Meat Grinder." "But how can we help her?" 
Diana looked at me for a while, and then said one of those things that 
makes you realize that men tinker, women understand. "Bunny, maybe she 
doesn't need help. Maybe she's got what she needs." "Diana, I can't just 
leave this. I have to talk to someone about Sandi's schizophrenia." 
Diana kissed me, and pulled her hand out of my pants to put her arms 
round me. "Then talk to Sandi." 
 
I suppose I should have thought of that myself. I always talked problems 
over with Sandi, why should it be any different when the problem was 
Sandi herself? I found her cleaning her Fireblade; a big, powerful woman 
working on a big, powerful motorbike. "Hi, Bunnikins, come for a ride?"  
Sandi on the Fireblade terrified me; she had no concept of speed limits. 
But there's something incredibly erotic about a big, strong girl on a 
huge, heavy bike, and I thought if I hold on to Sandi hard enough, I'll 
be all right. Sandi helped me get on; I could walk fine without my brace 
now, but jumping on to a motorbike as big as that is just not possible 
for me. Then Sandi got in front, I wrapped my arms round her small tight 
waist, and in about three seconds, we were illegal. 
 
I just shut my eyes and clung to Sandi, until finally the terrible wind 
died down, the roar of the bike quietened, and Sandi turned to me, and 
sitting on the bike seat, held me close to her body. Then she pulled me 
off the bike and on to the ground, in a field of wheat, with the hot sun 
overhead. 
 
"Sandi, what happens to you in the ring?" I'd never talked to her about 
this before. "I don't know, Bunny, really. I'm fine at first, and I 
trade a bit of repartee with the other guy, but then I get scared, and 
my mind goes kind of fuzzy. And then it goes clear again, and there's 
some smashed-up guy lying in front of me. I'm not really sure what 
happens in between, I think I'm operating by instinct or something." 
 
So I explained to Big Sandi my theory that there were actually two of 
her, and that at times of stress, Little Sandi took over. "But where is 
she, Bunny? I don't feel like a ten-year-old?" Her hand inside my 
trousers proved that she didn't think like a little girl, and my hands 
on her breasts proved that she certainly wasn't little. "She's inside 
you, Sandi, the child inside." Sandi looked thoughtful. "Maybe that's 
why I've always wanted to be so big and strong. I just want to keep 
getting stronger. I remember now, when I was nine, I wished I could be 
big and strong, so I could stop him raping me and Mommy." 
 
"I thought you did stop him, Sandi?" There was a long silence, and Sandi 
pulled me closer." I'd forgotten about it, Bunny. How could I have 
forgotten? He used to rape me, while Mommy was out. He said she was a 
whore, so I had to take her place. He told me that if I ever told 
anyone, he'd hurt Mommy, hurt her real bad. So I never told anyone. Oh, 
Bunny, I never told anyone, all these years." I could hear her crying, 
and I was filled with rage for the animal that had committed these 
terrible crimes against a helpless little girl, seven years ago. "And 
when he'd finished, he'd beat me with his belt, for being such a bad 
girl. He said I tempted him, that I was evil, wicked and I'd burn in 
hell. And I'd cry until I fell asleep. Mommy would come in so late I 
didn't see her, except sometimes on Sundays. And she'd look so scared of 
him, that I knew he was hurting her anyway. And I just wanted to stop 
him, to stop him hurting my Mommy, and to stop him hurting me." 
 
How could any little girl grow up normal in a situation like that? 
"You're right Bunny, you're right, it's a secret I've always had, I 
never told anyone because they'd think I'm off my head. It's like 
there's someone else inside my head, and I talk to her. She's a little 
girl, and she's always scared, especially of men." "Is she scared of 
me?" "A bit, yes. You're small, so you're not too bad, but you're still 
a man, and she's scared you might be like all the others. But what 
really makes her scared is big men, strong men, and she wants me to be 
big and strong so I can protect her. Bunny, do you think I'm insane?" 
 
What's the boundary between normal and insane? Everyone does things that 
are peculiar. Lots of people talk to themselves; it's a way of reasoning 
out a problem. So how can I answer Sandi? There's only one possible 
reply. 
 
"Sandi, I love you, you're the most wonderful girl I ever met. You've 
changed my life, it's a million times better than before I met you. The 
sex is ten out of ten, and we make a great business team. If there's two 
of you, then I love you both, I want to help you protect Little Sandi. 
Sandi, will you marry me?" 
 
Her reply didn't come in words. My trousers simply disintegrated in her 
strong hands, and her powerful thighs enveloped my body. It was about 
half an hour before either of us could speak again, and then Sandi said 
"No, Bunny. You're sweet and lovely, and you're my best friend, but I 
can't marry you." I wasn't entirely surprised. "Why not, Sandi?" "Half 
of me wants to, but the other half is so scared. What we just did, you 
know? I loved it, but Little Sandi hates it, wants to tear off that 
thing that makes you a man, turn you into a vegetable. Bunny, I'm not a 
nice person." I looked up at her; all I could see was Big Sandi, but I 
knew a terrified little girl was also in there, not willing to make the 
commitment of trust. "Bunny, I want you to be happy, I don't want you to 
settle for some ordinary girl. I want you to marry Diana." And I have to 
say, that sounded like a pretty good idea to me.
 
Chapter 52 - Bunny Proposes to Diana

That evening, I tried to work out a way to tell Diana the good news. 
"Sandi wants us to get married." That didn't sound right. "Sandi told me 
to marry you." Even worse. "Sandi said we should wed." Difficult, this 
one. So I asked Dad. "Dad, how did you propose to Mom?" He looked 
dreamily into the past. "We were at an outdoors pop concert, high on 
excitement and music. Your Mom was dancing, she looked so great, so 
sexy, so I put my mouth up close to her ear and shouted "Hey, chick, 
let's get together?", and she smiled at me and we got married the 
following week." 
 
Humph. Chick? He called Mom a chick? Outrageous. And totally sixties. 
But at least I knew what to say to Diana. I'd leave Sandi out of it 
completely, and do it like Dad did. 
 
To set the scene, I took Diana to one of our old haunts, Rapscallions. 
The music was loud, the beat was insistent and the hormones swirled 
thickly in the air. And just like Dad, I danced close to her, and yell 
at the top of my voice "Hey, chick, let's get together." Unfortunately, 
it was just at that point that the number ended, and my voice carried 
over the entire hall. I was mortified, Diana blushed bright red, and 
everyone was laughing at me. I took her hand, and rushed from the hall 
into the cool evening air. Oh wow, what a bummer. 
 
"Bunny, what did you mean?" she said, as soon as we got outside. "Diana, 
will you marry me?" "Bunny, you're only just seventeen, I'm only 
sixteen, we're too young." What could I say? "Well, Diana, we're 
screwing about fifty times a week ..." a bit of an exaggeration "... and 
I love you very much ..." but that part was true "... and I think it 
would be great if we made a commitment to each other." "Then let's get 
engaged, we can always get married later." Hmm. Neat idea. But now the 
difficult bit. "Diana, you know Sandi's my friend." "And mine too!" I 
wasn't so sure about that, I think she just let Diana tag along, for my 
sake. "I want to go on being her friend." "Sure, what's the problem?" 
"Well, you know we sleep together sometimes?" 
 
Diana already knew that, but there were some things I wanted crystal 
clear. "I'm not going to stop spending nights with her." "I didn't 
expect you to, Bunny. I expect she'll fuck you occasionally, too." Wow. 
I didn't know that Diana knew about that. I thought that was a secret, 
sort of. I mean, sort of, because everyone in the school knew about me 
and Sandi, and assumed that we were screwing, and I had certainly 
encouraged that belief, especially back when it wasn't true. It's an ego 
thing, you see. Amongst boys screwing any girl gives you kudos, but 
screwing a walking wet dream like Sandi gave you mega kudos. Diana was 
big kudos too, in her silky blouses and short skirts, her sexy walk and 
breathless manner, she was a real sex kitten. But Sandi, Sandi was 
regarded as the Ultimate Fuck by every boy in the school, and some of my 
taller tales didn't exactly discourage that idea. But Diana knew the 
truth, that I wasn't actually fucking Sandi, except that it used to be 
the truth, but wasn't the truth any more. But what not even Diana knew, 
was that most of my sexual encounters with Sandi happened between my 
cock and her hands. An actual fuck was a very special treat. Life gets 
complicated sometimes. Anyway, the important thing was that Diana 
accepted the fact of my friendship with Sandi, and she wouldn't get too 
upset if she found us in bed together now and then. 
 
We did the whole thing. The next day, we Told My Parents, and that 
wasn't easy, I can tell you. Mom started crying and Dad wondered if 
perhaps we weren't a bit too young, and we explained that after a two-
year engagement we wouldn't be, and Mom started telling Diana about how 
delicate I was, and Dad told me that Diana was a real corker, whatever a 
corker is, he does say whacko things sometimes. "And she's about your 
height, too!" Yes, Dad. I had noticed. "Much better than that chunky 
girl you used to go out with." I wanted to tell him that the chunky girl 
was still very much in the picture, but then I thought he probably 
wouldn't understand about how a boy and a girl can just be very good 
friends. And oh, wow, you'd think they'd know better, Mom got out the 
photographs, and subjected Diana to my baby pictures. And to all those 
dreadful pictures of me in a wheelchair, with braces on my legs, all the 
humiliating history of my illness. What was she doing, trying to put her 
off? Occasionally I caught Diana's eye, and made a rueful grimace at 
her, but Diana just shook her head and seemed to be really interested in 
my baby pictures. 
 
Then in the after noon, we Told Her Parents, and it was very clear from 
the attitude of her father that I wasn't good enough for his little 
Sugarplum. Sugarplum? "Sugarplum" I said to Diana, and she kicked me, 
under the table. But her mother was nice, attractive even for an old 
woman of 35, petite and I could see where Diana got her very nice 
breasts from. So while Mr Nightingale glowered at me, Mrs Nightingale 
cooed over me, and gave me fruit cake and big smiles. Mr Nightingale 
said that we were too young. "Come on, Dad, we're only getting engaged, 
we won't get married for years and years." That wasn't quite how I'd 
seen it, but let's not split hairs. Mr Nightingale wanted to know what I 
planned to do for a living, to support his Sugarplum. I grinned across 
at Diana, and she made a face at me. I decided not to tell him about 
Sandi's strong woman act, or the prize fighting matches - in fact, I 
planned to keep Sandi totally out of their hair if I possibly could. I 
had a feeling that if I was barely acceptable, Sandi would be total 
anathema. And I didn't want her getting upset at Mr Nightingale, and 
deciding to do a Double Triangle on him. So I gave him the party line, 
about how I had ambitions to become an Accountant, maybe even a Tax 
Accountant, and I hoped that this wouldn't get back to my parents, who 
were hoping that I'd become lead singer in a rock group. Well, maybe 
not, but something more romantic than an Accountant. 
 
"Were you serious about being an accountant", Diana asked afterwards, in 
the MGF, as we recovered from an excessive amount of sex. "Fate worse 
than death", I assured her. "I really want to go into Real Estate." She 
sat upright, not a wise move in the position we were in, and I yelled in 
pain. "Sorry", she said. "You know, Diana, you give me more pain in one 
night than ..." I decided not to remind her about Sandi. "I said sorry. 
You were kidding, weren't you? About real estate?" "Yes, Diana. I was 
kidding. What I really want is to be a porno star. Sandi told me that 
..." "Don't be silly, Bunny, you haven't got the equipment." "Yes I 
have," and I rubbed her with it a bit, just to show that she hadn't 
accidentally torn it off. She kissed it, and rubbed it with the blue 
silk scarf that I always wear there, and said "OK, it's still there, 
but, well, Bunny, it's very nice, but, well, ... there isn't very much 
of it, is there?" 
 
Hasn't she heard? It isn't the size that's important, it's what you do 
with it. "No, honestly, Diana, it's because I'm so small, it'll look 
bigger by comparison, it's all relative. And if they paired me up with a 
small girl, five foot nothing or so, soft blonde hair, nice tits, not 
too big, but not small either ..." and then she attacked me, and it was 
several minutes before either of us could say anything. Maybe I'll be a 
programmer, I thought. 
 
And then, having told our parents, and having gotten a reaction that was 
not nearly as bad as we'd feared, we could tell Sandi. And finally the 
whole school. 
 
First, we went shopping. I needed to get Diana a ring, an engagement 
ring to show the world that we really were engaged. I'd interrogated Mom 
carefully on this, and I knew exactly what we were looking for. 18 carat 
gold band, single diamond. We went to a jeweller's, who sold us 
something monstrously expensive, with a stone you could hardly see, but 
Diana seemed delighted, and kept twisting and turning her hand, admiring 
it. 
 
So then we went to see Sandi. I was dreading this. There were two main 
dangers. The first was that Sandi would blurt out to Diana that this had 
been Sandi's idea, and although I hadn't actually said so, I'd let Diana 
believe that it was all my notion. If that happened, I'd have a rather 
pouty Diana, but she'd get over it, she thought a lot of Sandi, and 
wouldn't mind that much if she knew that Sandi had made the suggestion. 
After all, I'd been the one to pop the question. No, I was more worried 
about the other player in this game, Little Sandi. If Little Sandi got 
the idea that she was being threatened, I didn't know what might happen. 
Imagine a ten-year-old child with the body of a man-smasher like Sandi, 
imagine what she could do if she were angry or upset. I wasn't scared of 
Big Sandi, but Little Sandi was another ball game. I decided that at the 
first sign of Little Sandi, I'd grab Diana's hand and run. 
 
We told Sandi the news, and I watched her face carefully. She looked 
surprised, except that if you knew her really well, you could see that 
she wasn't. Then she looked pleased, and picked up Diana and hugged her. 
Diana showed off her ring, and Sandi admired it. Then she said to Diana, 
"Is it all right if I kiss your fiance?" Diana said yes, and Sandi moved 
towards me, with her strong, purposeful walk that said "Get out of my 
way or get trampled." 
 
But I didn't have time to move, and she was on me like a tigress. Sandi 
was six inches taller, even in my Cuban heels; one of her arms went 
round my waist, the pressure of her body bent me backwards, her other 
arm went round my back, and she allowed her weight to lean on to me. I 
couldn't support her, of course, and I started to fall to the ground. 
This was bad; Sandi falling on top of me could easily put me in 
hospital, smashed between the hard ground below, and the harder woman 
above. 
 
But somehow, as we fell, she twisted us round so that I fell on top of 
her, her body cushioning my fall (maybe Sandi isn't as quite hard as the 
floor). As soon as we hit the ground, she rolled so that I was 
sandwiched between her hard, muscular body and the soft carpet (maybe 
Sandi is harder than the floor). My clothes put up very little 
resistance to her powerful fingers, and in a couple of moments, I had no 
more doubts about whether Little of Big Sandi was in charge. 
 
I dimly thought, maybe we shouldn't be doing this in front of Diana, but 
the thought didn't last very long, and anyway there wasn't anything I 
could do about it. I stopped struggling, I stopped even thinking about 
struggling as my beautiful Golden Amazon raped me. But was it rape? Rape 
implies that one of the parties isn't consenting, and although no-one 
had asked me, if anyone had, I would have just said "Unnhhh". 
 
Sandi did her thing, or to be more precise, she did my thing. I did her 
thing, or to be more accurate, her things, I did the Triangle of 
Submission on her, and she submitted very nicely, and then Diana wanted 
the same thing, so I did it to her, and by that time, Sandi had 
recovered, and showed me what it was like to have your head trapped 
between a pair of thighs like tree trunks and to be forced to lick a 
clitoris, and I showed her that with a bit of help from Diana, we could 
do the Pentagram of Pleasure, which is like the Triangle, but also 
involves some clever stuff with feet and toes, and I'm not telling you 
how to do that, it's a secret. 

Chapter 53 - Bunny's Stag Night
 
And then we sorted ourselves out again, and I nestled up to Sandi, and 
Diana did the same on the other side, and Sandi said "So when's the 
engagement ceremony? When's the party? And can I be a bridesmaid?" 
 
You can imagine my surprise. You don't have ceremonies for engagements, 
a party would be a great idea, but a bridesmaid? First, you don't have 
bridesmaids unless there's a bride, which implies a wedding. And 
secondly, although I tried to imagine Sandi dressed demurely as a 
bridesmaid, my imagination boggled. Sandi, in frills and satin? Sandi in 
a little-girl dress, all flounces and furbelows? Diana said "We'll have 
the ceremony as soon as we can arrange it, the party will be immediately 
afterwards, and Sandi, I'd *love* to have you as a bridesmaid, in fact 
you can be the Chief Bridesmaid." And Diana was holding on tightly to a 
part of me, a part of me that I was rather attached to, so I couldn't 
argue. In fact, I couldn't speak. In fact, all I could do was water at 
the eyes, until Sandi noticed my look of pain, looked down, and gently 
detached Diana's hand from my genitals, and replaced it with her own 
large, strong, but more gentle hand. "Are you all right, Bunny? You 
mustn't do that, Diana." "He deserved it, he was being difficult." 
"Maybe, Diana, but you mustn't hurt him so much. Be gentler." Diana gave 
me an evil grin, and I wondered who would be the dominant one in our 
relationship. Apart from Sandi, of course. 
 
The night before the engagement ceremony and party, I had a Stag Night. 
In case you've never been on one of those, a Stag Night is where the 
friends of the groom take him out on a last fling before the ball and 
chain is locked on, in a ritual attempt to get him to change his mind, 
or failing that, to get him so plastered that either he misses the 
entire ceremony next day, or else he's so hung over he isn't aware of 
what is going on. Meanwhile, the groom selects a Best Man, who's 
official job is to lose the ring when it's needed at the ceremony. But 
the Best Man's unofficial job is to pilot the groom safely through the 
ordeal of the Stag Night. The Best Man is usually the groom's best 
friend. So, naturally, I picked Sandi. 
 
When I turned up at the bar for my Stag Night with Sandi in tow, as we 
entered the bar, I could see consternation written on the faces of the 
other guys. Sandi isn't a boy, you see. Stag Nights are supposed to be 
male only. Then, as we got closer, they got a good look at what Sandi 
was wearing, and lust replaced concern. As I just mentioned, Sandi isn't 
a boy. And her attire left no doubt about that, none whatsoever. From 
the top - blue silk scarf in her hair, and I noticed that a few of the 
boys present had a matching scarf, as did the bartender. No silly 
drinking age problems tonight, I thought. Then, moving down, Sandi was 
wearing a T-shirt. But not the sloppy, grungy kind of T-shirt that 
everyone wore. Diana had helped her choose it. It was knitted silk; very 
thin and clingy. The short sleeves showed off Sandi's upper arm; she was 
16 1/2 inches now, and as hard as iron. You could see the great ball of 
muscle on her shoulder through the thin material, and it clung so close 
that you could even see the muscle ridges of her abdomen. But in between 
her abs and her shoulders, and looking like they'd never heard of either 
gravity or a bra, were Sandi's breasts. 
 
I feel sure I've described Sandi's breasts before, but a good 
description is worth retelling. They were large, high and firm, and 
tipped by the most erogenous nipples I'd ever seen. You could tell the 
state of Sandi's arousal with a quick glance at her nipples, and you 
didn't need to be an expert, either, she made it very obvious. The thin 
silk clung softly to each breast, making it strain forward to contain 
the two large hemispheres. Sandi's body was spectacularly deep; a side 
view of Sandi showed you just how far forward her breasts projected. Her 
nipples thrust it forward more than the fabric could cope with, and the 
stress lines in the silk served to accentuate the size of Sandi's bosom. 
 
After staring at Sandi's breasts for an eternity, you could be forgiven 
for thinking that life could not get better. But if you let your gaze 
travel south, you would encounter, first a small waist, relatively 
speaking, 25 inches of hard, solid muscle. But then, starting at her 
waist and going all the way down to her knees, were Sandi's thighs. And 
Sandi's thighs were worth staring at. 
 
Each thigh measured 25 inches, same as her waist, which was quite 
remarkable. She wore a short skirt; Sandi knew that she had killer 
thighs, and didn't mind if the whole world knew. But one look at those 
thighs told you that you didn't want to get between them unless you were 
invited, and it had better be the right sort of invitation. Could you 
imagine a giant pair of pliers, crushing your finger? Imagine a huge 
nutcracker, being used to crack your bones? Have you ever seen how a 
garlic press crushes the essence out of a clove, how an orange squeezer 
turns a firm, ripe, round fruit into juice and pulp? That's what Sandi's 
thighs made you think of. She was unimaginable bliss, and dreadful pain, 
all wrapped up in one stunningly beautiful package. And only I knew that 
Big Sandi was the bearer of bliss, and Little Sandi was the bringer of 
pain, and all you needed was to be sure that you had the right Sandi. 
 
We played the usual boys games. Penalty arm wrestling was the 
traditional sport at stag nights, with the loser being required to drink 
a bottle of beer. All the boys challenged me, of course, and since my 
strength is just slightly greater than a vole, I knew that I was in for 
a rough time, especially when I woke up tomorrow. If I woke up tomorrow. 
But my Best Man looked after me. "I'm his champion", she announced, and 
planted her elbow on the table. The boys couldn't back out now, of 
course, and each of them had to arm-wrestle Sandi Stone. I prayed that 
none of them would do anything sufficiently stupid that might get Little 
Sandi frightened. I put my arms round her - not to try to control her, 
of course, but I thought maybe that would help to reassure Little Sandi. 
 
I needn't have worried. She was as gentle as a lamb with them. She 
didn't crush their soft hands in her hard grip, and she just lowered 
their arms carefully to the table. I suppose it might have been a bit 
humiliating being beaten by a girl, but I couldn't imagine any of them 
being under the illusion of being able to beat Sandi. 
 
The evening was a lot of fun, even though Sandi wouldn't let me drink 
beer. Every time I tried to pick up a bottle, a powerful hand closed 
round mine, and gently detached the bottle from my grasp. Even so, I 
stayed close to Sandi, because I like being close to Sandi, I like it a 
lot. The other boys stayed close to Sandi because it gave them the 
opportunity to stare at her wonderful firm breasts with the erotically 
tantalizing nipples, and the big, muscular thighs that look like heaven 
and hell in one package . And a few of them got lucky - Sandi sat next 
to them and gave them a bit of a cuddle. That might not sound like much, 
but I can tell you, being cuddled by Sandi as better than going the 
whole way with most girls. While she was out visiting the Ladies room, 
one of the boys turned to me and said "You're crazy picking Diana 
Nightingale over a girl like Sandi", and the others all agreed. I just 
grinned like an idiot - what could I say? That I was getting engaged to 
Diana because Sandi suggested it? That Diana fucked like a drug-crazed 
ferret on heat? Or that I fully expected to continue sleeping with 
Sandi? Some things are just too difficult to explain, so I just grinned. 
 
That evening, Sandi took me home. She explained that it was part of her 
duty as Best Man to look after me, to make sure I turned up on time for 
the ceremony the next day. She certainly made sure that we didn't 
oversleep. She set the alarm for seven in the morning, and then 
explained to me that we wouldn't be needing it, because we wouldn't be 
sleeping that night. And she was right. 
 
By next morning, I barely had the strength to breathe, let alone stand 
up, and walking was out of the question. Sandi took me into the shower 
and helped me get cleaned, dressed and ready. Have you ever been helped 
to dress by a large, strong, naked girl? The main problem, I guess, 
would be the erection. In my case, this wasn't a problem, and I felt 
that I wouldn't have that particular problem for quite a long time, on 
account of what she'd done to me the previous night. Or, to be more 
precise, on account of the number of times she'd done it. It really is 
very difficult to withstand a girl who is about six times as strong as 
you are, especially when you don't really want to stop her from doing 
what she's doing in the first place. Then she put me in a chair to rest 
while she got dressed. 
 
Chapter 54 - The Engagement Party

When Sandi woke me up, she was ready. And she was a vision; I've never 
seen Sandi looking like this before. Up till now, I'd met three Sandi's, 
not counting Little Sandi. There was the tomboy in shorts and T-shirt, 
game for a hike in the woods, a burn-up on the bike or a friendly 
wrestling match on the grass. There was the sexual athlete in the short 
satin night-dress, capable of fucking all night and still giving me an 
erection in the morning. And there was the erotically overdeveloped 
amazon in the short skirt and silk blouse, which was the Sandi I saw at 
school, and when doing her strong-woman act, and when we went out 
together. But this was an entirely different Sandi, a Sandi that looked 
demure and girlish. Sandi was dressed as a bridesmaid, and if you've 
been to a few weddings, you'll know what I mean. 
 
Her dress was long, down below her calves. The skirt was very full, 
spread out with petticoats and taffeta. Her waist looked tiny, but I 
guess that's in comparison to the rest. Then, her dress flared 
dramatically to emphasize Sandi's large bosom, accentuated by the 
plunging neckline. She may even have been wearing a bra. "What do you 
think?" she asked, and twirled in front of me. "Sandi, you're the most 
beautiful girl I've ever seen." I sat there with my mouth open, and 
something happened inside my trousers that I hadn't expected to feel for 
a few days at least, after last night's session. Sandi looked down at my 
lap, and smiled. I stood up and walked toward her, but she fended me 
off, and said "Later. We've got your engagement ceremony to go to." Oh 
yes, I forgot. 
 
I drove us in my MGF to the hall; Sandi could hardly ride her bike 
dressed as she was. We got out, and everyone was waiting inside - 
everyone except Diana, that is. "Where's Diana?" I whispered to Sandi. 
"Don't worry, Buns, I'll go see", she said. Everyone stared at me as I 
waited in my suit, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me. What 
if she'd changed her mind? What an idiot I'd look. Then suddenly someone 
played the theme from Star Wars, and Diana made an entrance, with Sandi 
behind her, helping her get through the door, and carrying the tail of 
her dress. They walked up to the front of the hall. 
 
Diana looked ravishing, and when I saw her, I remembered why I wanted to 
do this. She was pink and white and gold, and Sandi's blue dress 
contrasted with her outfit perfectly. She walked slowly up to the front, 
and stood by my side. Sandi stood behind her, holding her dress; I 
looked past Diana at Sandi and she grinned at me and winked. I grinned 
back, then concentrated on Diana, and the engagement ceremony. 
 
After it was over, we all travelled to the party, which was a big one. 
All the boys I knew from school were there, as well as Sandi's crowd 
from the gym, Judy and the others, who had started calling themselves 
the "Sisters of Strength", and whose main activities seemed to be 
lifting weights, and bullying the boys. I hadn't had any problems with 
them, Sandi saw to that, but I knew more than one of the boys had been 
badly beaten up by them. The Sisters were wearing light gym clothes, 
which I thought was a bit inappropriate at a formal party like this; the 
boys were all decently dressed, either in suits of in jacket and slacks. 
 
A do like this is mostly for the parents and relatives, so the music was 
restrained. In fact, Diana and I had gone the whole hog, and the band 
played mostly classical Beatles; my mom and dad did something together 
they called dancing, which I tried not to think about, but I felt better 
when I saw the other oldies were doing the same. After a while, I 
thought "Why not?" and pulled Diana out onto the floor to do the same. 
Out of the side of my eye, I spotted Sandi hopping about, and pretty 
soon. the whole Sisters of Strength contingent followed her example, 
pulling the boys onto the floor. 
 
By round about ten, most of the oldies had left, so we could get down to 
some serious disco. I stuck to Diana like glue, and we watched with 
amusement as various Sisters checked out the boys in turn. I visited the 
gents, and found a few of them taking shelter there, looking a bit 
bruised and scared, and I suppose it was a bit wicked of me to beckon 
Judy over and tell her about them. I saw a small group of Sisters go and 
fetch them out a few minutes later, and after that, there was no refuge. 
 
Round about one a.m., I took Diana home - on this special occasion, her 
parents had let her stay out late. On the way, I parked the car, and the 
sheepskin rug was turned sideways and given a good whacking as we sealed 
our love with a bit more than a kiss and a cuddle. In the rosy afterglow 
of sex with a beautiful, enthusiastic girl, we talked about the future. 
I told her about my plans to get Sandi fighting for bigger and better 
purses, against bigger and stronger opponents, and how I intended to set 
up a Sandi Stone Fan Club, with sections for boys (Sandi's Slaves) and 
girls (Sisters of Strength). I could also see possibilities in making 
and selling, on a country-wide basis, videos of Sandi, fighting, lifting 
and doing feats of strength. Diana told me about the house she dreamed 
of, and how she'd always wanted a baby of her own "I know how to make 
those", I boasted, and she laughed. I told her that I thought maybe at 
least some of the Sisters of Strength, such as Judy, could be franchised 
to do Sandi's strong-woman act, or at least a cut-down version of it. 
Also, they'd be able to take on men in the ring like Sandi did so that 
we could expand up and down the country. And Diana snuggled up to me and 
murmured "You know, I'd quite like to be like that." "Like what, Diana?" 
"You know, Bunny, like Sandi. Well, maybe not like Sandi exactly, but at 
least like some of the Sisters. You know, at the party, I saw so much 
female muscle, and they seemed to be able to handle the boys so easily, 
and I know you like strong girls, Bunny ... well, I've signed up." 
 
I thought about this. One of Diana's big pluses was the fact that I was 
bigger (well, nearly bigger, especially in my Cubans) than her, and 
stronger. Well, maybe stronger. Well, maybe not. The polio that had 
wasted my legs, had also had a very debilitating effect on my arms and 
upper body, and I wasn't as strong as I looked. Well, OK, let's be 
honest, I was even weaker than I looked. But Diana was petite and tiny, 
with such slim arms, she always assumed that I could beat her at 
wrestling and stuff, and I was careful never to try to test that theory. 
But if she started weight training, she'd soon learn that Bunny Rabbit 
was as weak as a kitten and I'd soon be outclassed. So I tried to 
persuade her, but her mind was made up. "Oh, Bunny, they're so strong, 
so confident, that's how I want to be. I know I'll never be a muscle 
girl like Sandi, but at least I can get fit and toned. Think how much 
better sex will be, Bunny. And maybe I could develop just some small 
muscles, just little bumps, not big mountains like Sandi, but little 
hillocks. And it would be great for my figure, I could do with slightly 
more up top." I looked at her breasts, and told her that they were fine 
as they were, not too big, not too small. "No, Bunny, all the boys look 
at Caroline Barker, and you know why." Caroline Barker definitely had 
slightly more up top, quite a lot more up top, in fact an amazing amount 
up top. Caroline Barker was what you would call well-built. "I don't 
suppose I can get that big ... " I tried to imagine Caroline's breasts 
on a small girl like Diana, and something stirred down low. "... you 
see, Bunny, just talking about her gets you going. So, I'm going to 
concentrate on my upper body ..." and she started explaining about 
biceps, and triceps, deltoids and mastoids, and I could see she'd been 
looking at this very seriously, and I wasn't going to be able to talk 
her out of it. Well, a good general knows when he's beaten, and retires 
to fight another day. So I changed the subject to one that I knew she 
was even more interested in, and about fifteen minutes later, we both 
said "Whew", and kissed and cuddled some more, and then I took her home. 
 
Then I went back to my house. The lights were out, my parents were 
asleep. I sat in my MGF, thinking about the events of the last 24 hours. 
This time yesterday, I was being comprehensively fucked by Sandi, then 
taken to my engagement ceremony, then the big, formal party, then more 
sex with Diana, and finally Diana's surprise bombshell about joining the 
Sisters of Strength and taking up the weights. I tried to sort out in my 
mind the events of the day, and what it all meant. I was one confused 
Bunny, I can tell you, and I wanted to tell my Mom about the confusion 
swirling in my head, but she wouldn't understand, I wasn't her little 
baby any more. If Diana was serious about weight training, I would soon 
be outclassed, and if she absorbed the attitudes of the Sisters of 
Strength, I would be in trouble. 
 
So instead, I started up the car again, and drove round to her house. I 
let myself in using the key she'd given me, and tiptoed silently, so as 
not to wake anyone, up to her bedroom, opened the door, and slipped 
silently inside. I saw her lying on top of the bed, a vision of beauty, 
even lovelier than she'd been today. She was wearing a long cream satin 
night-dress, the sort of thing a bride might wear on her wedding night. 
The silk accentuated the pink of her skin and the gold of her hair, and 
I watched her breasts gently rising and falling as she breathed. I 
looked at her, and I knew that this was the girl I loved. I had a 
blinding flash of realization as I suddenly saw that the weakness that 
the wasting polio had left me with was of no importance, but that my 
brain had all the power that I'd ever need. Muscle and strength aren't 
the only important things in life; there's also sex, and computers, and 
love and calculus. I'd just have to get used to the fact that even girls 
were more powerful than my thin limbs could handle. And it didn't 
matter, because if she loved me a tenth as much as I loved her, she'd 
handle me gently, and it wouldn't matter how strong she was. 
 
I approached the girl in the bed, walking quietly so as not to wake up 
the house. She looked so lovely in the moonlight, so soft and sensuous, 
so delicious, her blonde hair spilling over the pillow, a slight smile 
on her face. I undressed quickly, and lay down beside her. Her warm body 
felt like soft silk against my skin; she stirred, turned towards me and 
opened her eyes. "Bunnikins, what took you so long?" said Sandi. 
 
 
 
Copyright (c) 1995, 1996 Rabbit Productions

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