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PROM NIGHT part 2 by Bill

Chris Jake


A good solid week into summer vacation passed since the "lesson" John taught Jake occurred. Jake's body filled with rage whenever he saw his two best friends, but he kept things quiet. He didn't want to give away his plans.
Matt and John never talked about Jake's "lesson" around him, but they talked about it all the way home that day. The day they left Jake at the cottage in Wisconsin, alone, unconscious, and barely able to breathe…

Jake awoke very slowly. He opened his eyes, which felt very heavy, and then tried to slouch to a sitting position, but couldn't. His stomach hurt badly it felt like he had swallowed poison or something. After about a half hour of gaining enough strength, he finally sat up and searched the room for his friends. Wait, were they still his friends? They just gave him the worst experience of his life and he's still calling them his friends? Jake slowly caressed his abs. Up and down, and around in circles. They were still tough and rough and rock hard, his abs didn't hurt, it was his organs that did.
His guts took a major beating, a beating he will never forget. After forty-five minutes, Jake managed to stand erect, but the second he did, he threw up, all over the floor. He wiped his mouth and ran to the kitchen sink and gobbled down some water. It dripped down his chin as he wiped it off with the back of his hand. Then he looked down at his hands and clenched them to fists.
"They left me here!" he said to himself. "They gave me the beating of my life, and then left me here! I'll get them! They'll see! They are going to wish they never fucked my stomach over! They'll pay for what they did!"
Jake's body tightened when he said this. He was getting very angry and his pectoral and abdominal muscles flexed as he spoke to himself. He pounded on the counter with his clenched fist and knocked over a stack of books. They sprawled onto the floor. He bent over to pick them up and noticed one of them was Matt's journal. He read the entry aloud.
"We are attending Prom tonight. It's going to be awesome! I'm not talking about the dance; I'm talking about gut punching! That's right! Me and John bought supplies yesterday and we are going to rent a cabin in Wisconsin and beat the shit out of Jake's stomach. That'll teach him to sleep with John's sister! I can't wait to see the grimace on his face with every punch! It's going to be one hell of a weekend!" read Jake. He laughed and closed the book. "It was one hell of a weekend for you, going to be one hell of a week for me!"
Jake walked down the hall and into his room. He put everything back in his backpack and changed into a button up shirt, which he kept unbuttoned, revealing his sexy rock hard abs and massive chest. He threw his backpack over his shoulders and headed out the front door. It was going to be on long trip back home.

Matt opened his front door and switched on his lights. The door shut silently behind him and he walked further into his house. On the kitchen refrigerator he saw a note from his mom stating that her and his father were out with his aunt and uncle at some fancy hotel for the night. It also said, "No parties, No girls, we'll be home tomorrow morning!" Matt smiled when he read this. He took it off the fridge and crumpled it up and threw it into the garbage can. He then glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty. Time for him to work out. He ran up to his room and changed into a pair of jogging pants and no shirt and then walked downstairs to his basement. He sat down at his arm curler station and began doing reps of 18 with 120 pound weights.
Five minutes later, Jake walked inside Matt's house, through his unlocked front door. Jake had a knife in a case that was tucked on his belt loop, but you couldn't see it by looking at him. He clenched his fists and walked toward the basement door. He was ready to do this.

The hot sun beat down on Jake as he walked the long miles home from the cabin. It was so hot that his unbuttoned shirt was even off and tucked into his backpack. Cars passed him every five minutes, but none of them picked him up. He couldn't walk any longer and he pleaded for the passing car to stop, pleaded with all his might and to his luck, it did. It was a man in the driver's seat as Jake opened the door. He was very muscular. Probably more muscular than Jake, but he didn't seem older. In face he was only three years older than Jake, which would make him twenty-two.
"Thank you," said Jake as he wiped the sweat off his brow and sat down in the air conditioned mustang.
"No problem! Where are you headed?" the man asked.
"Chicago Illinois," Jake replied.
"You were going to walk all the way to Chicago!"
"Yea, well, my friends left me behind."
"Oh. Then why are they your friends?"
"You're right, they're not."
"So, you're into gut punching I see."
"I noticed how red your abs are. I just figured you were gut punching."
"Yea, more like I was the one being gut punched by force!"
"Let me guess, by your friends."
"Yea. I'm going to get them back though! I can guarantee that!"
"Well kid, you picked the right car to hitch-hike with!"
"What are you talking about?"
"The name's Chris."
"I'm Jake. But what does your name have anything to do with picking the right car?"
"Because I am an expert in gut punching!"
"And you want revenge! I can teach you how to gut punch like a pro! I can teach you how to never be winded again! I can turn those abs harder and tougher than they are now! I can give you your revenge!"
"Wow." Jake was amazed. He was more shocked. He was sitting in the front seat with a gut punch master. What else was he supposed to do, turn him down? "I'll do it! Just lemme call my mom!" Jake pulled his cell phone out from his backpack and told him mom that he was staying another week at the cabin. She said it was alright and they hung up. Just in time to. Chris pulled into a rock driveway and Jake could see a mansion and then a shack, but the shack looked like a normal house. "Man, where do you get all your money from?"
"Gut punching tournaments. We hold em every month!" and with that, they stepped out of the car and into the shack.

Matt's sweat poured out of his body. He gulped down a bottle of water after doing 700 crunches. His abs were stinging, but nothing he couldn't take.
That's when he heard the knocking on his basement door. There wasn't supposed to be any knocking. No one was home. His mom and dad were gone. Did he lock his door? Matt walked toward the stairs and stared at the door. The knocking continued. He held onto the railing as he walked up ten steps and placed his hand on the knob. He pushed the door open to see Jake standing there. Jake smiled, bent his arm back, and nailed Matt right in the jaw, knocking one of his teeth out. Matt flew backwards, down the stairs, and his back hit the wall in the basement. Blood flowed from his gum and before Matt could even look to see if Jake was still at the door, a fist slammed into his solar plexus. It was the hardest, fastest, and most powerful stomach punch he had ever felt. He looked up to see Jake an inch from his face, smiling.

"It's a good thing you have your shirt off," said Chris as they both stepped into the shack.
"And why is that?" asked Jake.
"Because I would've made you take it off anyway."
"Oh. Are we going to practice already?"
"Yea, why not? The faster we do this, the faster you can get your revenge.
You do want that soon, right?"
"Hell yea!"
"Good, then first things first. The rules. You obey me. For this whole week, I am your master and you are my trainer. Are we clear on rule one?"
"Good. Rule Two. We practice until you cannot take any more punches, no matter how long it takes, and you must never give in just to give in. The only time you quit is when you're in absolutely tremendous amounts of pain which are unbearable, got it?"
Jake gulped. "Yea."
"And rule number three. Your training ends when you can double me over!"
"Alright! Show me what you got!" said Jake.
"I like your attitude kid!" Chris lifted his shirt off his torso and threw it into the corner. Jake suddenly dropped everything in his mind and focus on how built this man was. His pecs were so puff bullets could bounce off of them. His abs were so rock hard it was like he was wearing body armor. His arms were very well built and his shoulders were broad. "What? Change your mind?"
"No! I need to do this! I want to do this!" Jake shook off his nervousness and raised his arms to his side. "Fire away!" he said as he closed his eyes.
"Here we go!" Chris pulled his arm back and uppercutted Jake in the solar plexus. Even though Jake had his abs as tight as they could flex, the air escaped his lungs with ease. His eyes popped out of his head, and drool began to form already. Without warning a second punch fired into Jake's lower abs, right below the navel. This made Jake scream. A final blow to Jakes solar plexus was all it took. Jake fell to the ground, unconscious, in three blows. "Damn. We got a lot to learn!"

"How ya doing Matt? I'm back. Miss me?" said Jake as his second fist pounded into Matt's solar plexus. Jake could've sworn he hit the hard wall behind him that time. Matt made gasping sounds and drool was hanging from his mouth. He had no energy. Two blows was all it took. Matt just wanted to fall down and die, but he knew that Jake wasn't going to let that happen, not yet at least. "So, I walked for seven miles before someone picked me up, did you know that?" Jake landed another powerful blow to Matt. Matt's head lowered and it was resting on Jake's shoulder. The only thing that was keeping him from falling to the floor was Jake.
"I would say that that's a pretty long walk, wouldn't you?" Jake threw another punch into Matt's solar plexus, this time, lifting him well off the ground. Jake stepped to the side, and let Matt fall to his back. His bare back slapped the floor as his mouth hung wide open. He rolled to his side, gagged, and threw up. "You can take a lot though buddy, I'll give you that!
For the one with the weakest abs out of all of us, you're a pretty tough one to knock out!"
"Why are you doing this?" Matt managed to spit out with a weak voice.
"Why? WHY? You shouldn't even ask me why! I am paying you back! It's called revenge!" Jake grabbed Matt's ankles and pulled him so he was lying at the bottom of the stairs, then Jake walked up three steps, leapt into the air, and landed on the middle of Matt's stomach. His legs and arms shifted upward with force as a loud "OOOMPH!" was sounded. "Like that, did you? How about we try it again?" This time Jake went up seven steps, leapt off the stair case, and landed onto Matt's midsection. An even louder "OOOMPH!" WAS SOUNDED. Matt threw up again as Jake pulled out his knife.
"Next time, you should think before your actions buddy! Because then it wouldn't leave you in situations like this!" screamed Jake as hi lifted the knife over his head and slammed into Matt's solar Plexus. Matt's mouth just dropped. What could he do? He had no breath to scream, no energy to move out of the way, he could only lay there, absorbing stab after stab to the gut.
Matt finally closed his eyes and stopped making chocking noises around the twentieth stab to his stomach. "One down, one more to go!" Jake turned around and walked up the stairs and out of Matt's house, leaving his dead friend in the basement.

Jake looked at the not his master gave him. It read 167th North Seaway Street, 16357. Then, he stared at the warehouse address, which read the same. "This is it," he said to himself. As he walked up to the door he remembered to knock four times to signal that he cam in peace. The door opened and he walked in. It was dark inside, but none-the-less, cozy. He came to a room with four men, and a man sitting in a chair.
"State your business," the man in the chair announced.
"I was told that you can mix a torture serum," asked Jake.
"Who told you that, where did you get your information?"
"Relax sir. I'm not the police, I'm not the F.B.I., and I'm just some guy, who's looking to get some serious revenge on someone."
"I see. Jason!" The man snapped as another man brought him a syringe. "This serum, when injected, causes anything to happen in the area it is injected into, to hurt up to 200 times more. What are you planning on doing to this fellow?"
"Gut punch him till he can't wake up!"
"Nice choice. What you have to do is make sure you inject the serum into the bellybutton. If you inject it anywhere else, it may kill him. You understand?"
"Good, now take off your shirt."
"Take off your shirt!"
"Do you want the serum or not you pansy!"
"I want it."
"Then take off your god damn shirt! Nothing comes for free you know!" Jake sighed and lifted his shirt off of him. He balled it up and held it in his hand. "Jason, give me the different injection!"
"What are you going to do to me?"
"After I inject you with this, every half hour it will feel like someone is throwing bowling balls at your stomach. It will feel like one thousand punches. It will feel like nothing you will ever be prepared for!"
"How do I get it out of my system?"
"The one who sent you here should no, but, if you try to get rid of it before its first attack, it will never leave your body. You will go through pain for the rest of your life, and it may kill you. Now, hold still!" The man stabbed Jake's stomach with the syringe and injected the toxin. It burned going in, but after that, Jake was free to go, the torture serum in his hand, ready for John.

To be Continued…