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Initiation by jackxjk




Ken slowly woke up from a small nap he had taken at the park. He had just finished his usual abs workout. Crunches, stretches, everything that would make his abs stronger. He didn't do it just for people to admire his body though (that was just a bonus). He did it hoping for one special day to come. A day where he would finally find someone to let out a beating on his stomach, to feel his breath taken out of him with every punch. If you ever got punched in the stomach, you would probably want the pain to go away as quick as possible. Ken was different. One night after a run, Ken encountered three guys. Two of them took his arms and the other ripped off his shirt and started pounding his gut. The surprise of meeting them caused him to lose focus on the problem at hand: him getting punched in the stomach. He didn't flex for one punch. They left him with one final knee to the solar plexus. He feel to the ground clutching his stomach. The pain he was in engulfed him, and he loved it. Ever since that event, he had started to get interested in the subject of gut punching. He posted his body on youtube and posted pics of him shirtless on flickr, asking for people to punch his gut. For years, he posted video after video and pic after pic and waited for someone to accept his offer to beat him. No one ever commented on his videos or pics with an acceptance to his offer. But he didn't need an acceptance to his offer any more. Finally, at the age of 17, he got what he wanted, but he didn't find his puncher. The puncher found him.
When Ken woke up, he was in a small room. Wood floor, white walls, just another peaceful looking room. Once he really started to look around, he began to get excited. There were bats in a corner of the room, boxing gloves in another. "This must be a gut punching room." he thought. It took him a couple of minutes to notice that he was suspended in the air spread eagle style with cuffs on his hands and feet. His adrenaline began to increase knowing his dream of getting beaten was about to come true. The door in the room opened, and in walked a shirtless muscular teen. "Well, look who's finally awake," he said. Ken gawked at his body. His abs were so defined, his arm muscles were so well constructed.
"Hey, I'm Stan. What's your name, dude?" "I'm Ken."Ken replied. "How old are you?" "17." "Ha, great! Now I don't have to feel like I'm wailing on a little guy. I'm 17 too. So, let's get down to business. You ever heard of gut punching?" Ken nodded his head. "I'm actually really interested in it." "Oh, is that so. Do you like being the puncher or the punchee?" "Either." "Dude, I'm sure I'm gonna make your day, and you're gonna make mine." Stan ran up to Ken, and then threw an uppercut straight into his unflexed, defenseless stomach. Spittle and oxygen flew out of Ken's mouth. He felt like a battering ram was just launched out of a cannon into his stomach, and he liked it. "You see, I'm from a club called the Gut Beaters. We've been watching you at the park doing your exercises, and we have high hopes for you to join our club. So they sent me to see if you were worthy enough to join. I'm gonnna have to punch you in the gut for a full two hours. If you pass out, I'm still gonna punch you. As long as you're alive by the end of the two hours, you're in. If you decide you want to quit during the session, I'll oblige, but you better know you would be missing out on tons of stuff. So, we got a deal partner?" Ken nodded his head. "Okay, and by the way, don't take anything of what I'm about to do to you personally. It's all just business."
Ken tensed his abs in order to prepare for a beating he would never forget. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, we're not ready just yet."Stan announced. He reached for the collar of Ken's t-shirt and ripped it off his body like it was simply paper. Ken's abs were now completely exposed. Ken then pulled a timer out of his pocket, started it, and set it to beep in 2 hours. "Now let's begin."
Ken tensed his abs again as Stan through a heavy jab into Ken's stomach. THUD! His fist bounced of Ken's rock hard abs. Stan then cocked his arm back and threw another punch into Ken's gut, right below the belly button. THUD! That punch stung Ken a little, but he thought he was doing good so far. That's not what he wanted to think. He wanted to be tortured. He wanted to be beaten. Ken saw Stan's next punch coming, so he took in a deep breath and unflexed his stomach. SMACK! "Oooomph!" Ken yelped out as the wind got knocked out of him. Stan's punch sunk deep into Ken's gut, Ken's body engulfing his fist. Stan then jumped into a fighter's stance and started throwing one-twos into Ken's lower abs, Ken never flexing for one moment. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! Ken ooomphed with every punch. His body was aching and his body had lost a good amount of its oxygen. Now Ken was feeling it.
Stan grabbed Ken's shoulders and started smashing knee after knee into Ken's defenseless stomach. Stan's knees sunk deep into Ken's gut, rearranging his innards with every one. Ken grunted, moaned, and ooomphed with every knee. Drool started to pool in the bottom of his mouth. Stan then walked to the opposite side of the room, sprinted as fast as his legs could take him, and delivered a power jab right to Ken's solar plexus. "Ugggggh!" Ken let out. That punch hurt the most out of all the punches that had been delivered to Ken so far, and it wasn't the last. Stan did the same thing to Ken five times. "Oooomph…uggghhhh…bleghhhh…" Ken then walked to the opposite side of the room, sprinted again, and this time, he launched the heel of his foot straight into Ken's lower abs. Ken let out a long moan. Stan then did his sprinting kick five more times, every time he hit another part of Ken's stomach. "Ooomph!" Right below the navel. Ken grunted. Straight to his left oblique. "Uggghhh!" Right between his crotch and his last row of abs.
The drool that had been earlier been pooling in his mouth was now slowly dropping down his chin. Ken was in so much pain. He must've had the wind knocked out of him twenty times. But he loved it. The sound of his OWN oomphs and grunts made him feel good. For every punch Stan had given him so far, he had never flexed. He even took in breaths to increase the damage to himself with some punches. And that wasn't going to change any time soon.
"Okay dude, take a two minute break," Stan told Ken. "Wait…I…" Ken said between long rests and breaths. Ken never knew that it was so hard to talk after you've just been through a gut beating. "Take it easy Ken, your beatings not over yet, don't you worry." Stan stated. Ken obliged and slowly lowered his head and closed his eyes. The drool on his chin made him remember nights where he had drool fests while he was sleeping. The thought actually made him drift of a little. Stan took his chance. He tip-toed all the way to the corner where the bats were. He took one and slowly and quietly made his way back to Ken. He walked over to the side of him and stared at the side of his body. His stomach and chest slowly rose and sunk with every breath. Stan noticed he was actually asleep! This was perfect. He got into a batter's stance, bat in hand. Stan actually got a hard one on. Not because he was gay though. Because he was excited. He was gonna beat Ken to a pulp. Stan watched Ken's stomach. It rose, then fell, rose, fell, rose, fell. He waited till his stomach fell, knowing that was when he was taking a breath.
Stan saw his moment as Ken took in a deep breath. Stan swung his bat as hard as he could straight into Ken's, unflexed, defenseless, solar plexus. THUD! Ken immediately woke up on impact. His head shot up as his eyes almost popped out of his head. The drool he had in his mouth exploded out in various directions. There was probably two ounces of drool that shot out of Ken's mouth. And with the spit that came out of Ken, there was also all of his air. "OOOOMPH!" Ken screamed. Ken looked down seeing the bat. Stan was still trying to swing it deeper into Ken's gut, and Ken let him. Ken moaned as the bat went deeper and deeper. Stan then took the bat out of Ken's body. "Look what you did to the floor!" Stan yelled at Ken. Ken looked down at the floor. He never knew how much spit he could spit out at one time, and now he knew. Stan saw he was distracted and swung the bat at full power straight into Ken's lower abs. "UGGGGH!" Ken yelped. More drool came out amazingly, but only enough for it to leak out of Ken's mouth and on to his chin. He couldn't do anything to stop the beating, so he simply closed his eyes and expected the worse. Stan swung the bat into Ken 20 more times. Ken OOOMPHED and UGGHHED and grunted with every swing. He started to feel some barf come up his throat a couple of times, but he just brought it back down.
BEEP! Ken and Stan heard the saddening news that the beating was over and Ken opened his eyes. Stan pulled the timer out of his pocket. "Nope, wait. We still got an hour. Must've been a checkpoint beep." Stan stated. Ken was so relieved. Stan walked up to Ken and unlatched his cuffs. Ken fell straight on his stomach landing in his pool of drool.. He moaned a little bit then rolled over on his back. "What…are…y…gonna…do…now?" Stan said through gulps of breaths. "Come over here." Stan said. Ken slowly rose to his feet when all of a sudden Stan came running towards him and threw and uppercut straight into Ken's solar plexus. "OOOMPH!" Ken yelled. Ken fell to his knees, amazingly able to still keep his body straight. "I'll say it again. Come over here. Do it faster this time." Ken pushed himself back up again and limped to where Stan was standing. Stan grabbed Ken's shoulders and launched a knee straight into the pit of his gut. "UGGGHH!" Ken screamed. Ken fell backwards straight onto his back, launching even more air out of his body. Stan then unlatched the latches that were on the floor. Ken didn't even notice the latches were even there! Stan grabbed Ken's legs and put them into an upside down V and told Ken to spread his own arms out. With Ken's arms and legs in place, Stan latched the latches onto them.
There was Ken, lying stretched out, exposed in the middle of the room. "Okay, so what…" Ken was painfully interrupted as Stan jumped up into the air and rocketed his knees down straight into Ken's unsuspecting stomach. SMACK! "UGGGH!" He did this another 15 times. "UGGGH, OOOMPH, ARGGHHH, UHHHHH…" Stan ended the knee beating with a drop kick straight into the pit of Ken's abs. Ken grunted, coughed, and launched a little spit on to Stan's foot. "Why you little spit machine!" He jumped up into the air and launched an elbow down into Ken's stomach, right below the navel. "OOMPH!" Ken let out. He coughed again, and like before sprayed some spit on Stan, only this time it was on his elbow. "I'm gonna…" Stan stopped his sentence, thought for a second, and left the room, leaving Ken there to soak in his pain. The thought then came to him, "Can I even flex my abs anymore?" Ken tried to, only to feel a shock of pain go through him as he did. All of a sudden, Stan came back in with two sort U shaped objects made out of the material used for workout mats. Oddly enough, one side of the U shaped object was thin, about one inch thick, while the other side was super thick, about three and a half inches thick. Not only did Stan have those U shaped objects, but he also had a sledgehammer. "Oh my gosh, I'm really gonna have it now," Ken thought.
Stan walked over and put the U's around him with the thin sides under him and the thick sides right over his solar plexus. It looked like he was wrapped in a weird workout mat. Then, Stan took out some duck tape form his pocket and taped the where the two U's met together. "It's padding for your stomach, so I don't bust any organs." Stan clarified. "But don't think that padding is gonna protect you dude. It's gonna feel worse than just any old punch when I bring this hammer down on you." Stan lifted up the sledgehammer, and brought down like a meteor from space down onto Ken's padded solar plexus. "OOOOOOO!" The pain was immense! The sledgehammer brought the padding down deep into Ken's solars, knocking all the wind out of him. "Did you like that dude? Well, here comes more." He raised the sledgehammer again and swung down straight into where he had swung it before. Ken made a sort of pre-barf noise. Like a mix of a gargle and a "Bleh!" Ken was on the verge of throwing up. Stan lifted the sledgehammer again, and amazingly enough, brought it down with more speed than before. Ken for the first time in a long time tried to flex his abs. "OOOMPH!" Drool started to flow over his mouth and onto his chin again. His abs had been so beaten that they were completely useless. Though he liked the feeling of getting gut punched, he didn't all that much like the feeling of throwing up. There was nothing Ken really could've done, so he slowly closed his eyes like earlier and endured the beating. Stan mercilessly brought the sledgehammer down onto Ken's solar plexus over and over. Every time, his drool flowed over his mouth, down the side of his chin, and into a little pool right beside him. The next thing Stan did was astounding. He took the sledgehammer, bent his back backwards all the way until the sledgehammer's head was touching the floor, and used all his might to bring it back up and smack Ken's straight and deep into Ken's solar plexus. Ken's eyes popped open. Never had Ken felt a blow go that deep into his gut. Like before, the oxygen that came out of his mouth rocketed the spit everywhere, onto Stan, onto the floor, onto the padding, and onto himself. "Oooooooohhh…my…stomach" Ken managed to get out. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP! "Well, dude. You did it! You're in the Gut Beaters!" Stan said as he wiped Ken's spit of him. Ken slowly broke into a smile.
Stan unlatched Ken from his latches and got the pads of him. Then he left and came back with a couple of towels for them both. "Dude, I got to admit, you got a really good set of abs right there. Though you do, why was I able to sink my fist or bat or whatever so deep into your gut?" They both chuckled, causing immense pain for Ken since his abs hadn't fully recuperated. "Well, let's just say that I love to get gut punched." They chuckled again. "You know what else? I've never gut punched anyone who gathers up as much drool as you do and then spits it up on everything." For the next couple of minutes, they just sat in the middle of the room talking about what they had just experienced. "Here dude." Stan said to Ken. He handed him a small piece of laminated paper. It had his name: Ken Yamanashi, a bar code, the address to where the Gut Beaters meet up, and a sentence: Official member of the Gut Beaters Club. "Thanks, I'm honored." Ken stated. "You did good dude. Never in my life had I beaten an Asian so bad." Stan gently patted his Ken's stomach, wincing with every one, though he knew that it was all in good friendship. "See ya around dude," Stan launched an uppercut into Ken's unsuspecting gut. "OOOOMPH!" Ken yelled as Stan left the room. "See…ya…" Ken said as he kneeled there holding his stomach.