Bushwhacked - Chapter 1
Written by Michael and Hunter
It was a little past noon on a particularly hot summer day in an isolated little valley of the California mountains. Not a cloud in the sky interrupted the sunshine as a lone rancher worked his land. The young man was of a tall, slender build, fairly well muscled but by no means large, your average farm boy. He was dressed in fairly ordinary attire, boots, grey denim pants, leather belt that kept the loosely hanging trousers just above an indecent level and a white cotton shirt that had been left unbuttoned down the front. He'd just finished moving a wagon load of hay to the barn where it'd be stacked after lunch and being it was that time, the young man started for his little two room house to fix up something to eat.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the barn, another young man was slowly creeping
along the side. He had seen the cows that the rancher had owned many times before,
and had made up his mind a long time ago to take a few for his own. He wagered
he could get some good money off of them, maybe get out of the middle of nowhere
and back to Texas or somewhere like that. He peeked in the window, looking in
at the cows that stood in the stalls, quietly chewing cud and giving the occasional
The rancher probably had the keys. The man snuck back around the side of the barn and quickly sprinted across the yard as fast and as quietly as he could, then gently sliding in on the wall as he looked in the window of the kitchen, doing his best to keep out of sight. It would take a while to get the cows anyway, and he might finish eating by then...the best way to do it would be to knock him out for a few hours, giving him plenty of time to work. He started scooting towards the front door.
Returning to his little house, Mark took out a cloth from his pocket and wiped his brow, the day's heat starting to get to him. He was in fact a bit of a sweaty mess and looking forward to taking his usual dip in the stream on the north end of his property this evening. Still there was a hard day's work ahead and for that he needed to be fueled and ready to go, so before any more of it could be done, he set about preparing some lunch. The stove was still hot from breakfast and eggs were in good supply as was bread so his lunch would be a good one. As he worked to prepare the meal the young man had no clue that there was another on his property, the only sounds being the cows in the barn, his horse still hitched to the wagon and the sound of birds chirping. Yes it sure was looking like it was going to be a good day.
Jack finally reached the front door, smirking as he tossed a few warm-up punches. The rancher didn't look like a fighter; with luck he'd be able to take him down no problem. He reached up and gave a few rapid knocks on the door, flexing his fingers to have them ready to form into a fist at the first opportunity.
Mark was just about to crack the eggs for his meal when he heard the knock at his front door. Sighing at the interruption he put the bowl he was using down and called out. "Be right there." A cattle rustler was the last thing on his mind, indeed his riffle was in the barn and his hand hand iron was holstered in his bedroom. Besides,it was more likely one of those two sisters down the road a piece who'd taken the most unladylike of likings to him. He wasn't completely blameless there though as he'd road by their property on more then one occasion stripped to the waist, although his efforts had actually been aimed at one of their farm hands. Still, there was no sense in not keeping up appearances and so headed to the door without fastening the buttons of his shirt. Reaching the screen door, the young man pushed it open and started out onto the porch to greet whom ever his guest was.
As soon as the rancher opened the door Jack's fist was in motion, arcing forward in a beautiful, perfectly-thrown uppercut aimed directly at the rancher's exposed bellybutton, aiming to hit the poor sap as hard as he could and maybe lift him off the floor with the force of the punch, maybe sink his fist in up to his wrist. He'd done that several other times in other towns in California, beating the bellies of unfortunate drunks in bars until they threw up, clobbering the guts of deputies in towns and leaving them limply draped over hitching rails, or turning the stomachs of ranchhands into squishy mush before leaving them in a water trough. He prided himself with how dangerous his fists could be to someone's stomach, and this backwoods yutz would be no different.
Stepping out onto the porch with no inkling as to what was about to happen, Mark walked right into the his assailant's punch completely unprepared. The man's fist slugged him right in his naval with deadly, practiced aim and with far more force than he'd ever felt. Mark had been in a fight or two and taken more punches then thrown, but this, this was professional. The man's fist buried it's self good and proper as if it belonged there and his guts didn't.
"Uhhhhhhhh.... Hhhhhhhhh...." A sudden blast of air left the young man's lungs as he hunched over from the punch then a struggling gasp to replace the air while his chest rested against the other man's shoulder.
Jack didn't bother to explain himself, pulling his fist out of the man's gut and then shoving him backwards. He ducked down, sighting on the rancher's gut and beginning to toss quick but powerful punches into the area around the man's navel, each hit sinking deep into his belly, which was soft enough that it received each punch like a long-lost friend.
Straitened back up by the shove, the suffering young man stumbled back until he collided with the doorframe. It was too fast for him to react as no sooner had he stopped moving then did the other man's fist penetrate his guts again... and again... and again... "Uuuuuhhh!... Ooophh!... Huuuhhhh!" Yes, Mark had been in fights before and did know to tighten up his stomach, but this man, he'd given him no warning, no quarter, and now those impressive abdominals of the rancher were useless, too many fists had blasted through them, his guts were already being smashed and the stunned man simply couldn't react yet.
Jack smiled to himself as he continued forward, each punch in the gut shoving the rancher back into the house with each punch as he started to mix the punches up; he would jab the guy in the navel, squishing the fist in deeper with each punch, hook him in the sides of his belly to jiggle it from side to side, then uppercut him in the lower belly, below his navel. He'd plunge straight punches in to the center of his gut, between his diaphragm and his navel, and the small house was echoing with the sounds of fists slapping the rapidly softening gut of the rancher as his guts got more and more squishy.
Mark's whole body jumped with each punch that drilled into his midsection, as his attacker expertly maneuvered him, sending the young man stumbling into the house. Punch after punch destroyed the sweaty, groaning rancher, indeed the fight, if there had been any, was quickly being beaten out of him. The low punch under his navel made the man's legs shake as his body shuddered from a brief spasm, then more punches landed much higher up in the best protected part of his stomach. But the loosened muscles provided little and the spear like blows drove Mark across the room until he crashed against the far wall separating the main room from his bedroom. He didn't know why this was happening, all he knew was that he just wanted to curl up and die, never had anyone hit him this hard and this many times and each punch was destroying his very core.
Jake slapped a hand down on Mark's shoulder, grinning fiercely at him before powering an uppercut right into the rancher's lower belly. He then pulled it out roughly and then shoved it in again, beginning a cycle of spearing Mark's lower belly with uppercuts, pulling it out, then back in, and out, and in, and out, driving uppercuts over and over into the rancher's rapidly softening belly with the hope of lifting him off of his feet each time.
"Oooh!... Oooohhh!... Ooooo!... Ooooooo!... " Mark's eye's went wide after the second uppercut and stayed that way as his lower belly was blasted. A new sensation had surprised him with the repeated strikes down so low, almost like he was going to wet himself but much more visceral then that. Indeed of all the reactions he was able to muster, it wasn't to push his attacker away, no his arms where still hanging uselessly at his sides, instead the young man clenched his legs tightly together as if expecting to lose his bladder. Meanwhile each blow was driving him up and back against the wall, his body hopping in the now near crumpling position as he tried to double over.
Jack finally stopped punching, instead spinning on his heel and burying a kick dead-center in Mark's ravaged belly, pinning him to the wall. "I gotta say," he said as he looked at the crippled cowboy. "You've got quite the soft belly, partner. And I've punched some soft bellies."
"Uuugh!" Mark folded after his back got smashed against the wall one final time by the kick, his chest coming down to rest on the man's leg. His arms were still dangling, although now his hand reached the floor and his white cotton shirt was now a sweat stained, dirty mess having picked up black smudges from the kerosene residue on the walls. The young man hung there panting for a moment, finally getting a breather of sorts. True the other man's boot was firmly entrenched in his gut but at least he was being given a few seconds to think and in this few second he resolved to try and fight back in spite of having already been beaten.
"Hhhhh... Hhhh.. I'll... show you... how soft... it is..." he retorted and summon up his waning strength to grab hold of the other man's leg and shove forward, hopefully taking him off balance and tossing him on his rear end.
Jack yelped a bit as he was thrown backward, falling onto his rump as he lost his balance. Wincing and rubbing his tailbone he looked up, seeing what Mark would do.
Actually managing to topple the guy, Mark stumbled a bit, his support against the wall taken away. Still, the guy was down for the moment and he had to take advantage. Trudging forward, the you man stepped over the other male's legs and raised his left, intending to bring it crashing down into his attacker's stomach. At that point he had two options, do it again or head for the door and out into the yard where there would be more room. He of course would go for the yard, using the other man's midsection as a stepping stone should his attack work in the first place.
Jack rolled to the side as the foot came down, swinging his leg out as he rolled to knock Mark off balance. Should that work he planned to jump to his feet and switch things up a bit, slugging Mark in the face before taking the beating to his kitchen.
Missing his stomp and getting tripped in the process, the cowboy hit the floor in a heap. His attacker was faster them him in getting back to his feet and the young man was just rising when he got clocked across the face and was sent spinning into his dining table. The table of course collapsed under the impact and left the rancher laying on the floor, curling up as he wanted to do earlier, his now filthy shirt obscuring his assailant's favored target.
Jack followed Mark into the kitchen, Jack straddled the helpless rancher before he lifted his hands and started to slug Mark in the belly again and again, feeling his legs kick and spasm behind him as his fists once again started to sink deep into the cowboy's rapidly reddening gut.
Getting rolled over, Mark's arms flopped out wide as did the two sides of his shirt, leaving his whole body wide open and his weakened stomach especially vulnerable. His abs still looked impressive but they were useless now as Jack sat atop his hips and started to plunge fist after fist down into his defenseless stomach.
"Ooohhh!... god my guts... Uuuuh!... Oooooo..." Mark laid there as Jack continued to destroy him, his muscular arms not raising at all to defend himself, paralyzed once again by the other young man's stunning power.
One last punch plunged into Mark's squishy belly, Jack getting up and grabbing Mark by the throat as he pulled him upright. He then slugged Mark in the cheek again, sending him spinning across the room before Mark's cheek squashed against the window.
"Uuuhhh!..." Panting, Mark could barely stand as his attacker dragged him to his feet. He didn't have to stand for long though, as the other man sent another punch crashing across his cheek. The poor guy stumbled with the punch, crashing into the wall and the kitchen window, thankfully it didn't break. Straitening himself, the young man wiped a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth and turned back to the other. He was exhausted from all of the punches to his guts, hot from the day's heat and now finally getting angry. Before he was just confused, and indeed strangely tolerant of the beating his was taking, but now he'd been slugged in the face not once, but twice. He was going to make the other guy pay for that. Even as tired as he was, Mark resolved to fight back again, this time taking a moment to shrug off his filthy shirt and let it drop to the floor and provided his wasn't interrupted while his hands were occupied behind him, would then bring them up in clenched fists once they were free of the garment.
Jack chuckled to himself as he watched Marm take his shirt off. By now, with all of the abuse his gut had taken, Mark's belly was now limp, the shattered muscles useless. He watched the rancher get his fists up, raising an eyebrow. "Sure you don't want to just lie down and take it?"
Panting and obviously tired, Mark struggled to keep himself steady as the other man looked him over and asked him if he'd rather just lay back down and take the rest of his beating. It was a strange question, one that sparked an even stranger response. What if he did? So far this guy hadn't actually tried to kill him, he had to be armed, everyone was. No this guy had no intention of killing him, just beating the hell out of him in what was probably the manliest way possible. Mark had never felt like this, this guy he was facing was so precise with his blows, obliterating his abs in the first few punches and then just dominating him for the rest of their encounter. It was thrilling in a strange way. He also knew he had no hope of winning this fight but didn't want to look like a coward, after all at the end of the day this man did attack him. There was perhaps a way to buy some time to think and find out what this guy wanted.
"I might if my house wasn't being wrecked in the process." the young man huffed back. "But see'n as you just broke my table, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you outside. Now if you go willingly, well then, then we might have to see about that laying down and taking it."
Jake chuckled, conceding the point with a nod. "Fine, fine. Don't wanna mess up your house any more than it already is." He turned and left the house, heading out into the yard and waiting for Mark to follow him.
'Holy hell what am I doing... Am I really going to do this?' Mark thought to
himself as he lowered his fists and followed a few steps behind the man out
onto the grass in front of his house. He could have gone for his gun in the
bedroom but this didn't seem to be heading towards a lethal end so he wasn't
going to force it. Instead he stood facing his opponent, a few feet away and
held his arms out a bit.
"You said you've punched bellies before? Why don't you tell me what all this is about. Someone pay you to do this?" he asked, hoping to get some understanding of the situation before the other man took advantage of his vulnerable, open midsection.
"Nah." Jake shrugged. "I just want your cattle. You seem like you've got more than you need. I just figured I'd take a few off your hands, sell 'em, and get to Texas with the proceeds." He grinned. "Though you've been so accommodating...or rather, your gut has...either way this turns out you're not gonna be conscious when this is over, bud."
"Is that a fact?" Mark replied to the comment that he would end up knocked out. "Well if that's the case, mind if I ask a few more questions, like what's in Texas? It's hotter there them it is here. And why... No, how the hell did you take my gut apart so easily anyway? No never mind, why and how." the shirtless young man asked feeling a little braver, there was perhaps a way for both of them to get what they wanted now, Mark just needed to know a bit more.
"Well..." Jake cracked his knuckles. "The way I see it, a gut's the most vulnerable part of a person. You hit 'em enough there and they'll go down and stay down, not to mention lots of guys neglect it, make it vulnerable. Plus, it's easier on the knuckles than hitting you in the face." He chuckled. "As for how...? Simple matter of taking you by surprise. In the bit before you opened the door and this all started, I saw you had a pretty good set of abs on you. Figured if you got caught off guard, you wouldn't be able to tighten them up before I'd made your gut as soft as a sack of pudding. And I was right!" He nodded at Mark's vulnerable gut. "Evidence is right over your belt."
'Well this guy knows his stuff.' Mark thought to himself, finding it a little exhilarating as this guy talked about how vulnerable a guy's stomach tends to be and then how he was able to defeat the young man's abs before they could come into play. It was clear that this guy knew what he was doing and his confidence in his work was truly something. Now of course Mark didn't want to lose any of his cattle, especially not to someone with such naïve, socialistic ideas as 'Having more than you need', but interestingly enough neither did he want this guy to get nothing out of this encounter, not that he really could stop him. But there was a possibility. A little sheepishly now and decidedly self conscious, Mark tensed his shattered stomach back into shape and raised a hand to rub the back of his neck.
"Yeah, well you certainly did get me there..." the young man replied as he considered just what he was about to say next. "You uh... You want a job?"
Jack cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. "And what might that be for?"
Mark paused for a moment, working the courage to go on so he could try and match the other young man's confidence. "Look I'm not going to beat around the bush. We both know I'm in no shape now to take you. Maybe earlier, but not now. I figure though, you're doing this for money, well, I got money. Now I could try and fight you, take a pasting and you could take my cattle, but that's only going to get you so far. Or you could take the job and uh... Still give me that pasting..."
Jack snorted. "Would that be the job? Just beating your belly whenever you want it?"
"No, you'll work with me, but the pasting's a bonus. You get a good honest job, a place to live and a boss you can beat the hell out of when ever you can catch him off guard. "Mark replied feeling a little more bold. "What do you say, feel like you're up to the challenge?" he added and put his other hand up behind his head and grinned, leaving his body completely open.
Jack raised an eyebrow, then smiled and walked closer to Mark, extending a hand to shake...while the other impaled the rancher right on the navel, sinking in up to Jack's wrist. Jack smiled. "You got a deal."
"Uuuggggghhhhh!..." Mark's grin vanished as Jack buried his expert fist into his stomach again, tormenting the young man's innards. The shirtless cowboy hunched up and leaned into his new employee, arms dropping from behind his head as he took in the tremendous power of the punch. It took a few seconds but he did lift his hand again and weakly grasped Jack's waiting one.
"Welcome... Aboard..." he groaned. "Where would... you like to start?"
"Hm...how about I beat your belly to mush, then when you wake up you can come find me inside?" Jake asked. He shoved against Mark's shoulders, knocking him back a few steps. Two uppercuts to his lower belly followed, then a barrage of jabs to his navel aimed on driving him back across the farmyard. By now Mark's gut was making a loud SPLAT noise with each landed punch, and its pudding-like consistency felt good on Jack's knuckles.
Mark's eyes went wide again, not from the shove or from the realization that he was indeed going to get knocked out, but from the shock of another punch low under his navel. Then a second one landed and his body shook.
"Ooogh!...Oooogh!..." Drool spilled out of the shirtless cowboy's mouth as Jack started burying fists into his middle again, driving him backwards a few steps with each punch. His sweat slick body eventually thudded against the side of the barn as another of Jack's expert fists drove into his core.
Jake decided to switch it up, shooting a knee up into Mark's vulnerable gut, followed by a quick turn that ended with him losing his elbow in the same gut.
Stars exploded in Mark's eyes as Jack's knee rammed up into his stomach and lifted him clear off his feet. His breath was gone and his lungs refused to work to replace it. Then another, sharper impact that pushed in deeper as the other cowboy buried an elbow in his gut. The young man shuddered and gagged, folding over from the blow, his chest coming down on Jack's shoulder.
"Gggg.. my guts... holy... cow..." the suffering cowboy gasped.
"Cows? Oh, right!" Jake jerked his elbow out of Marks belly and turned him around towards the front of the barn, then began throwing knee after knee into his belly, aiming to drive his new belly-beaten boss towards the front of the barn, towards where the hay cart had been left.
"Uuuh!... Uuu!.. Uu!..." Mark let out a strangled gasp with each knee as his stomach was used as a target to drive him backwards down the length of the barn. His breath just a faint, gurgling whisper as more drool escaped his gaping mouth. The knees were torture and the young man wasn't sure how long he could take them, but one this was sure, it was exhilarating as hell, the evidence being that the shirtless cowboy's pants were doing their damnedest to hold down another member of his anatomy.
Jake stopped kneeing Mark in the gut and instead returned to punch, dog-walking the cowboy around to the hay wagon and grinning. "So, 'boss', I guess I'll see you when you wake up. Have a nice nap!" With that he threw his fist up in a final, mighty uppercut, this time targeted at Mark's belly button, aiming to knock him upward and into the wagon.
The shirtless cowboy was practically out on his feet when the knees stopped smashing his solar plexus into oblivion and offered no resistance as the punches resumed, each thudding into the beaten man's guts without contest. He heard Jack say something, but his mind wasn't there anymore, to say he was in a punch drunk haze would have been an understatement. Then it all went dark. Mark didn't even feel the last punch, nor his short flight nor the landing. The young cowboy was quite unconscious as his shirtless body flopped into the hay, arched backwards over the heap in the cart, his sweat covered skin glistening in the noontime sun. His chest resumed a somewhat normal rhythm of breathing after a few minutes but it was clear the man was out and would be so for a few hours.
Bushwhacked - Chapter 2
Written by Michael and Hunter
Four or five days later things had returned to normal on Mark's ranch, well as normal as they could be given the unique business arrangement he'd made with his new friend. After the first night it was clear he'd need to build an extension on his little house for a second bedroom as he couldn't have Jack sleeping in the barn, nor was he going to be so brazen as to suggest they share his bed, he was fairly certain Jack wasn't interested. So day two saw a trip to town to pick up lumber and nails and days three and four saw the start of construction. By day five though Mark needed to get some work done around the farm so with the extension still half finished he diverted his attention there. It was another hot day and the barn was like an oven when the sun was out so the young man elected to forgo his shirt and started stacking that waiting hay up in the loft. The work was hard as usual and given the heat, by the time he was even quarter of the way finished his body was covered in sweat.
Jack had also decided to get rid of his shirt, revealing his own six-pack of abs on his stomach. He could hear Mark breathing heavily and saw him sweating profusely as he stacked hay in piles in the loft. It had been long enough that the bruises and redness on his new boss's gut had faded away, leaving it unblemished. He lifted up another bale of hay, thwumping it down on the pile as he waited for Mark to get closer with a bale of his own, that would obscure his vision from what awaited him. They'd been working since noon. Jack decided that it was time for a break...and a little fun.
Retrieving another bale of hay from the cart, the blonde haired young man ambled into the barn and into the loft. By now the pile was getting quite high and in no small part do to Jack's labors. The other young man had a build as impressive as Mark's, it was no wonder he'd driven his fists with such power the day they met and it was also a reason for Mark to be thankful they were on friendlier terms now. His moment to idly stare at his friend while he worked now over, Mark got back to his own task, lifting the bale in his hand up to just about chest height so he could stack it on top of the rest.
Jack's fist shot forward like a rocket, a straight punch heading right for the area between Mark's diaphragm and his navel with all the force of a freight train.
Jack had picked his time well, with Mark's muscular arms extended out ahead of him as he placed the bale on the pile and the fact that he thought nothing of Jack approaching, likely on his way to get another for himself, the young man was totally unprepared for the other's punch. Jack's fist thudded into Mark's upper stomach and deeply pressed into the center of the first two rows of abs.
"Uuuuhhhhhhhh!...." the cowboy gasped as his lungs emptied and he sagged forward over Jack's arm. For a moment he couldn't understand what had happened, but after another moment to realize Jack had punched him in the stomach, it dawned on him that Jack had deemed it play time already.
"..oh... you... bastard..." Mark croaked with a crooked smile.
"Let's see how long you last this time, 'boss'," Jack said, before he pulled his fist out of Mark's belly, then slammed his fist into the lower belly area of Mark's gut, below his navel, in a hard uppercut. This was then followed by another, and a third.
Straitening himself, Mark tried to prepare himself for Jack's assault, tightening up, but his defenses had already be struck while completely loose and the man hit him where he was softest. Jack's fists smashed easily into Mark's lower belly, the taught flesh exposed to the attack by the young man's rather low hanged trousers. Like before the blonde's body smasmed and he went a little wide eyed, then the second punch cemented that look on his face and the third started his legs shaking.
"Oooh!... Oooo!... Ooooh!.... Fffff..." Mark stumbled back, bumping into one of the building's support columns.
"Now now, boss, don't go to pieces on me already." Jake followed Mark as he staggered across the loft, impaling Mark's navel on his knee then delivering a strong straight to his upper gut as he pushed Mark back against the support pillar. Here he ducked down, starting to throw a barrage of strong jabs at the area around Mark's navel.
"Oooohhhh.... Uuuuuhhhhhh!" The air rushed out of the young man's body against as his upper abs took the strong punch, folding under the other man's power. Mark wasn't finished though, in spite of the paralyzing power of Jack's fists he wasn't going to lay down and lake it, he'd give it his all this time and make Jack work. When the other man ducked down and plowed the first jab into the shirtless cowboy's abs, his fist found them decidedly harder then they'd felt before. The punch still hurt though, as did the ones that followed, but the cowboy was now tensing what was left of his abs in defiance. That having been said though he made no other move to defend himself as he was beaten against the column, indeed and even raised his arms out of the way, giving Jack more room to work with.
Jack raised his eyebrows at Mark hardening his abs, then shook his head and ducked down. Not wanting to waste his energy he began to jab quickly into the area around the middle of Mark's gut, his fists thumping against the hard muscles
"Uuuh!... Uuhh!... Not.. Uuuh!... Gonna... Uuung!... Make... Uuhh!... It... Ughh... Easy... Uuuhhh!... for.... Youuuuuughhhh!..." Mark gasped out between punches as Jack's fists thudded into his stomach. His muscles weren't nearly at their best so the warm flesh was pliant enough that he could tell the punches were hurting, as if the young man's verbal responses weren't enough. Mark stood there though, never budging from the pillar as the meaty thwacks of Jack's fists crashing into his stomach filled the barn and sweat flew off his body with each impact.
Jack slapped his hands down on Mike's shoulders and began throwing knees into his lower belly, aiming to batter down his boss's abs as fast as possible with powerful blows.
Still not making a move to defend himself, Mark was wide open and waiting for Jack's knee, what he didn't expect though was for it to land so low in his gut. The impact was like a bomb and the young man's whole body jerked.
"Ooooh!... Fuuu.... Oooohh!... Ooohhhhh!... my guts... Oohhhh!..." Jack had him and had to know it, Mark couldn't take those hits, not in a million years. His entire body was shivering with pain as the other young man exploited his soft lower gut and what ever that weakness was behind it. After just a few of the knees the sweaty cowboy's abs collapsed entirely and he even dropped his own hands to Jack's shoulders for support.
"That's better..." Jack then slapped Mark's hands off of his shoulders, then bent and speared Mark's navel with a hard straight punch, then another, and another, as he began to piston punches into his now-soft belly.
Cringing, Mark gagged as each punch pinned him against the pillar, smashing his stomach in almost to his backbone. Jack's power was irresistible and although suffering mightily from it, Mark wanted more. This thing was turning into a strange obsession for him, how much could he take from the skilled fighter and could he ever outlast him? But even deeper down, beyond just the manly challenge of having his guts beaten to pulp, Mark desired that defeated feeling, that utter dominance the other man had over him when his fist was buried in the blonde's guts. As weak as he was starting to feel now, he stayed up, plastered to the pillar as Jack continued to drive fists into his middle, his arms now dangling at his sides as sweat dripped down his whole body.
Jack reached out and grabbed Mark's neck, then rammed a hard uppercut into his navel, aiming to lift him off his feet before he hurled him to the floor to straddle him.
Panting between punches, Mark chocked when Jack grabbed him by the neck and then spat out a mouth full of saliva when the other young man buried an uppercut into his navel. The shirtless cowboy's body hunched up and then started to sag as his strength started to go. Jack seemed to plan on this as he used the young man's fall, tossing the blonde to the wooden floor, his arms flopping out to either side. Through all of this Mark had no idea of the full effects the beating was having on him, it was all happening at once, but as soon at Jack sat upon his hips the blonde and no doubt his attacker, realized that he was as hard as a rock.
"Oh.... Shit...." the young man gasped out, tilting his head up to look at Jack sitting atop him and then dropping it back to the floor with a pained groan.
"Eh, no big surprise." Jack shrugged. "Considering how you acted the first time I beat your stomach inside out." He then proceeded to do just that, plunging punches over and over again into Mark's soft belly meat.
Mark was relieved when Jack though nothing of his having gotten hard from the beating, it was in fact all the more thrilling when the man went right on punching him. He didn't know if Jack got off on what he was doing to the blonde's body, but for the beaten young man on the floor, things were developing into a whole new, deeper level. With each punch that sank into the shirtless cowboy's stomach, he'd moan and writhe and even protest a little now, but not actually meaning it.
"Ohh!... My guts... Ughhhh!... They hurt!... Uggggghhh!..." Yes, Mark was finally starting to have real fun with this, probably more than Jack was, maybe.
"That's what comes of punchin' em, 'boss'," Jack replied, before getting up and hauling Mark upright. He landed two knees to his navel, followed by a trio of punches to his navel before he landed a hard side-kick to Mark's gut, aiming to push him into a hay bale nearby.
Mark stood on shaky legs when Jack hauled him back to his feet and thankfully the man held on to him else he would have collapsed right back to the floor, especially after the first of two knees buried themselves into his stomach.
"Uuuuhggg!.... Uuuuuhggggggg!..." Drool dripped out of the young man's mouth as Jack fired three more punches into his stomach, each penetrating into the shirtless blonde's core. Then finally he was released, but before he could fall, his friend's boot came up and smashed into his vulnerable gut, launching him backwards. Mark crashed down onto a hay bale, his arms dropping down and out to the sides to the floor under the bale and his knees bend over the edge, letting his own boots rest on the floor as he laid there and panted.
Jack didn't give Mark a second to regain his breath, following him over to the haybale and slamming a hard punch into his lower belly. Now that it was facing him fully he didn't have to throw uppercuts anymore, and instead used Mark's lower belly as a punching bag.
Mark's whole body spasmed again as Jack started to bury brutal punches into his lower gut, letting out an actual scream with each hit. The cowboy was destroyed utterly and completely, his body jerking in concert to the fists pounding into his lower regions. He realized now what that sensation was, it had been unrecognizable before because of how strong it was and how intermittent, only occurring with each punch that sank into him.
"Oh god!... Ahhhh!... My damn guts!... Oooohhhh!... You're gonna bust 'em!..." Mark yelled as Jack lambasted his lower midsection. He of course wasn't talking about dying, no his metaphor was referring to something quite different and based on Jack's skill and knowledge, it was likely the other man knew exactly what was about to happen.
Jack then patted his elbow and dove forward, driving the point of his elbow down into Mark's lower belly, grinding it as deep as he could.
Laying there helpless as Jack wrecked him, Mark could do nothing to stop the man as he cocked his elbow and brought it down with such incredible force into his stomach, that the beaten cowboy sat half way up. At once though his destroyed abs gave out and he flopped back down on the hay and Jack's elbow jabbed deeply enough into the suffering's blonde's body to actually hit his backbone this time. That was it, his guts couldn't take this punishment silently anymore and made a distinct churning sound.
"Arrrrrrrrgggg!..... God... my.... Ooooohhh...." Mark yelled in pain and then cut himself off with a groan, his body spasming again from the deep intrusion. Beating the wave of nausea that was now building, the other urgent sensation came to a head and exploded, literally. The resulting climax sent a writhing shiver through the beaten cowboy's body, leaving him just as breathless as any punch might have.
Jack grabbed onto Mark again and hauled him upright, slamming another knee into his belly, then two uppercuts to the same spot before he started slamming punches again and again into Mark's squishy gut, driving him back across the hay loft.
Still 'suffering' the languid effects of the climax, Mark could hardly stand when Jack pulled him back to his feet, although the knee slamming up into his guts kept him from initially falling right back down. Indeed he managed to raise the young man's back, higher then his head for a moment. Spit poured out of the blonde's mouth as Jack hammered his stomach with more uppercuts and then started to guide him across the loft with strait punches into his aching guts, much like he'd done a few days before on the lawn. The cowboy's body was shaking with each punch now, sweat rolling down him in buckets as Jack had his way with the young man's stomach. Where Jack was taking him though he did not know, or at this point care, his world was narrowed now to just his aching body and Jack's relentless fists.
"Don't. Worry. Boss," Jack said, slinging hooks into the sides of Mark's belly as he continued to drive him back across the hay loft, "I. Think. We. Did. Enough. For. Today." with that he hauled back and slung an enormous hook at Mark's cheek, with all the intent of spinning him around to fall face-flat in one of the surrounding hay bales with a knockout blow.
"Uuughh!.. Ugghhhh!. uggghhh... Ggghhhh..." Mark choked and gagged with the finishing punches as Jack spoke to him. His shaking body truly couldn't take any more and the continued punches were eliciting more gurgling sounds from the young man's innards. Then, KAPOW! Mark's whole world went into a spin and he tumbled onto another hay bale. Surprisingly though, the young man wasn't out yet, indeed he was still conscious but the blow had so disoriented him and the final shots to the stomach had so upset his guts that as he laid there on the hey bale his body began to spasm again and hot gorge rose up his throat like lightning. Turning his head and hanging it over the side, the cowboy let loose, vomiting up his lunch thanks to Jack's expert fists. Groaning after the retching spree, Mark rolled onto his back, now obviously about to pass out on his own from sheer exhaustion.
"Urrrrrr... Nice one.... Partner...." he gasped and then closed his eyes and promptly faded into dream.
Jack chuckled as he rubbed his fists, giving Mark a friendly pat on the back. "Get it all out, boss. See you when you wake up." With that he headed for the ladder, sliding down it and back into the main barn before walking back to the house.