The interview 

Sandi is interviewed by a magazine; pain for her male interviewer 


[I am a free-lance writer named Mark Rogers. I was commissioned to 
write and take pictures for an article to be named "Tough Girl" for a 
man's magazine. It was going to be an interview with a girl named Sandi 
Stone who made her living by fighting men. I had never heard of her or 
of the type of no holds barred fighting that she engaged in. So I did 
some research for the interview which consisted of watching three of her 
fights on videotape. Sandi, as I found out, was 5'6" and 165 lbs. She 
had an incredibly muscular physique, especially her arms, chest, and 
shoulders. I was astounded by her ferocity and the way she totally 
dominated the much larger men that she fought. All of the men outweighed 
her by at least fifty pounds and looked to be in great shape, at least 
before the fights started. Sandi simply slaughtered each of them, 
mercilessly, with breathtaking displays of bone shattering holds and 
viscous batterings with her fists. Not one of the men she fought seemed 
to be able to match her strength. She threw their much larger bodies all 
around the ring, seemingly with little or no effort. All the time she 
was smashing her opponents, she would keep up a non stop torrent of 
verbal abuse and humiliation. They would beg her for mercy and try to 
submit to her, but she would have none of it. She would laugh at their 
weakness and continue her assault. I learned that none of the men she 
destroyed ever fought again. After completing my background work, I 
called her and set up an appointment. I arrived at her house. She called 
out to me to come in and set up my tape recorder in her living room. I 
did so and waited. Shortly, she came into the room wearing a floor 
length robe. Her hair was wet. She explained that she was just out of 
the shower and that we could begin.]

M.R. Why do you fight men? 

S.S. I fight men for two reasons. One: I make a lot of money, more than 
I could at almost any other job. Two: I like it. I like to take a big 
macho egotistical man and completely destroy him, using nothing but my 
bare hands, in front of lots of people. 

M.R. You really like hurting your opponents? 

S.S. That's the best part. The pain. And the fear. I like inflicting 
pain, lots of it, on men. I hurt them enough in the early part of the 
fight so that they know that they can't win. A demonstration of my true 
strength demoralizes them. Then I taunt and tease them to make them 
scared. I love a man's fear of me. When he knows that he has no chance 
against me; when he knows that my big powerful female muscles are going 
to tear him apart and smash his body to pulp; that's the turn-on. When I 
see the raw fear in the eyes of a 230 lb. man for a girl who he knows 
has twice his strength; then, its time for the real pain to start. I 
like to move in slowly, flexing my arms and smiling, to make him sweat. 
Then I'll deliver a blow to his body. I watch his eyes as the pain 
registers. It's great to see his eyes roll back in agony. I keep 
inflicting the pain as long as I can. 

M.R. How long is that? 

S.S The rules state that if a contestant is knocked out, then the fight 
is over. In my early fights, I hit too hard. The fights would last only 
two or three rounds before he would pass out. I've learned to control my 
strength a lot better now. I can keep a fight going for six or seven 
rounds now. It's better this way. I can inflict a lot more total 
punishment and humiliation over the longer span of time. 

M.R. What about submissions, or if he just quits? 

S.S. That's what's great about The Society Of Unarmed Combat. 
Submissions do not have to be accepted. So I don't. If a contestant 
tries to quit, he is forced back in the ring and there are no more 
rounds. The fight goes until the loser is unconscious. 

M.R. Why do you fight barechested? 

S.S. I like the man to really know that a woman is pulverizing him. It 
humiliates him and the men in the crowd. I like to rub my big breasts 
against a man as I crush him. It's a turn-on. 

M.R. Why is the humiliation and taunting so important? Isn't just 
beating them enough?  

S.S. The humiliation is crucial. If I just wanted to win the fight, I'd 
knock him out in ten seconds. I fight men for my satisfaction. It's not 
enough to just physically destroy them. I want to crush their macho ego 
too.  When I'm done with a man, he can never look at a well built woman 
without feeling afraid for his life. He'll know that one time a busty 
muscle girl had his life in her hands, and that he was powerless to stop 
her. He'll never be the same. I want lots of men to feel that way. I 
love the feeling of power I have when I look at the bloody, beaten body 
of a man and know that my female muscles caused his torture. The more he 
hurts, the more that I want to punish him for challenging my 
superiority. 

M.R. Aren't you afraid of killing someone? 

S.S. The only way killing a man would bother me is knowing that he would 
be beyond my reach. He couldn't feel the pain or fear me anymore. My 
idea of a perfect fight is one that would go on all day with me 
inflicting ever more pain and damage with my fists and muscles until he 
was just one punch away from death. Then I would stop.....maybe. 

M.R. Why are you so cruel? Do you hate men? 

S.S. I don't hate men. I use them. If a man wants a fight, he gets one. 
If one wants to lay me, it's done on my terms. I like my sex rough. If a 
guy isn't man enough to take it. Tough shit. As far as being cruel; I 
am, to men. I like kids, animals, and old people. I never would hurt one 
of them. But, I get my pleasure in pain; giving and receiving. I like to 
give men lots of pain and I like to watch them receive the pain I'm 
giving. 

M.R. I notice that you don't use your legs much during your matches. Why 
not? 

S.S. It's mostly an ego thing. Men are all supposed to be stronger then 
women in their upper bodies. I like to pit my upper body strength 
against a mans. I've never lost yet, even though all of my opponents are 
bigger than me, some by as much as 80 lbs. I never kick or punch them in 
the balls either until they are completely beaten. Then , sometimes a 
little sexual abuse is fun if the man is awake enough to scream. 

M.R. How did you get so strong? And why? 

S.S Genetics and work. I was born with a very dense musculature. Almost 
a throwback to primeval times. My muscles are extremely strong 
naturally. Also, I work out all the time with heavy weights to get 
stronger. I'm strong enough to crush a man to death with my arms. One 
full-power punch would do the same. I love my muscles.  They are big, 
thick, defined, and as hard as steel. And I like using them on men. The 
snapping sounds of a mans ligaments tearing or the feel of his ribs 
breaking turn me on when I know that its my mighty muscles making it 
happen. I like to drive my fist into a man's gut once and watch him 
cough up blood because of my strength. You have no idea of the feeling 
of power I get when I lift a 230 lb. man over my head and throw him 
across the ring and then watch him come crawling to me begging for 
mercy. And they all do. I make them all beg. These big macho men all end 
up on their knees begging a girl to stop hurting them. They'll hold onto 
my muscle-bound thigh, tears running down their bloody faces, pleading 
for me to end their torment. I'll flex my massive 18 inch biceps in 
their face and laugh. Then I tell them that their pain has just started. 
And prove it! 

M.R. How about some pictures? 

S.S. Sure! [Sandi stood up and took off her robe. Even though I had seen 
the tapes of her fights, I was not prepared for what I saw. She was 
wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and nothing else. I was awe-struck by 
the sight of her body so close. The muscles simply exploded from her 
body, huge and defined. She smiled at me and flexed in a double biceps 
pose. Great mountains of biceps and triceps sprang forth. Her wide 
shoulders, thick chest, and muscle ridged abdomen were amazing. Her big 
and beautiful breasts rode proudly, high up on her chest. The thing that 
got me the most though, was the aura of raw, unadulterated power that 
she emitted. As huge and hard as her muscles were, I knew that they were 
much stronger than they looked. This young Amazon could squash me like a 
bug, and I would be helpless to stop her. In the back of my mind I 
wondered who could ever be so stupid to try and fight her. I was more 
scared than I had ever been in my life, just by being near her. But, I 
was strangely attracted to her as well. Her fantastic body had been 
created to destroy men and here I was with a boner!] 

S.S. Come over here and feel my arms! 

[I went to her as ordered and began to run my hands over her muscles. 
Her arms were gigantic and hard beyond description. I started shaking 
noticeably, my fear of this female man-beater growing by the second. 
Sandi laughed at my obvious discomfort] 

S.S. You're afraid of me aren't you Mark?  I told you that's the way I 
like it. A man's fear really turns me on. Now feel some of my strength! 

[Sandi grabbed the muscles next to my neck and began to squeeze. Pain 
exploded in my body and I sagged to my knees, screaming in agony. She 
positioned me so that my face was against her rock hard stomach while 
keeping up her torturous grip. I was in so much pain that I began to 
pass out. Sensing this, Sandi reduced the pressure of her grip. She held 
me this way for what seemed like an eternity. The constant, piercing 
pain was unendurable, but I could neither escape from her muscular grip, 
nor would she allow me to lapse into unconsciousness. The sadistic 
muscle girl kept up the intense pain while calmly explaining that she 
was using only about one fourth of her power. My arms flopped uselessly 
at my sides while my face lay against the concrete of her abdomen. I 
didn't have the strength to stay on my knees, but that didn't matter. 
She had more than enough muscle to keep my 180 lb. upright. I began to 
babble incoherently while tears flowed from my eyes. 

Still the torture continued. My trapezious muscles were being crushed by 
Sandi's incredible grip. My head flopped back and I was vaguely aware of 
Sandi smiling down at me. Her big, muscled chest and huge arms were 
barely flexed! Here she was, keeping me in more pain than I had ever 
felt, and she hadn't broken a sweat.] 

M.R. Please...Oh God, please stop. I hurt so much! [I managed to finally 
gasp] S.S. I told you that they all begged! I'm not quite done yet. I 
want you to hurt some more! 

[ I was becoming delirious from the agony of Sandi's hold. She saw this 
and decided to remedy the situation. Still keeping the grip, she lifted 
me to my unresponsive feet. She held me up against a wall with one hand 
and slapped me twice across the face with her other hand. The slaps felt 
like I got hit with a hammer. I came back to reality, my shoulders a 
mass of pain and my arms still useless. Sandi smiled sweetly at me and 
drove her fist into my gut. I collapsed to the floor, vomiting blood.] 

S.S. Now you can write your story from a first person perspective! In 
case you were wondering, this is as gentle as I have ever been. You 
should feel lucky! 

[ Sandi carried me to my car, where I passed out for a while. When I 
awoke, I saw my tape recorder and camera. She had attached a note: Mark, 
I took some pictures for you. Good luck with the article. Come back any 
time. Love; Sandi. I slowly drove away, wondering how long I could stay 
gone before I had to return to Sandi Stone!]