11: Ash DeLeon (New England)

I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to Ash DeLeon for graciously agreeing to appear in this story as Leo's puncher. Your willingness to share this experience has brought an authentic depth to the narrative, and I truly appreciate your collaboration. Thank you for being an integral part of this journey.

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It was a Friday night in New England. I’d been sent up north of the city for work, but now that I’d slammed my laptop shut for the weekend I figured it was time for some fun.

I’d done research ahead of time on gay bars in the area, and the one that stuck out to me was this little hole-in-the-wall called The Chute. It was a known fetishist hangout, and you know me: that’s exactly what I wanted.

As it was nice and balmy out with a gentle breeze, I donned some shorts that showed a bit of quad and a button-up short-sleeved shirt. Something flowy and comfortable (and capable of being unbuttoned while I hung out at the bar, of course).

I took a cab to The Chute and arrived with the sun still blazing. We were approaching summer months and the sunset didn’t really arrive until after 8:30 these days. I could have waited for later to hit the bars, but I had nothing better to do. So, in I went.

It was fairly quiet, but it was only barely after working hours. It was sure to liven up. Some dudes huddled over a billiard table, a few hung out at the bar near me, and I could see some loitering by the men’s room, too.

I sipped my beer — something cheap, I don’t even know what it was. I was only even drinking it so I could patronize the bar.

But I didn’t come here to drink.

I noticed a man lingering with a group across the space from me. He was wearing only booty shorts. Another guy was wearing a crop top that was cut so high it only covered his pecs. I took that as a sign that it would be perfectly acceptable for me to unbutton my own shirt without being confronted with a “no shoes, no shirt, no service” scolding from an employee. 

I worked my way down my buttons and flared my shirt out before resting my back against the bar again. Even though you could still barely see my abs with my muscle relaxed, I was inviting play. So, naturally, I kept my abs about partially flexed so my six pack was more apparent.

It was then that a man approached me.

Despite the sun still shining outside, the interior of the bar was rather dank and dark. It took me a moment to register who he was with his thick chest, muscular arms, and hot, beefy build. 

It was none other than Ash DeLeon. I hadn’t realized it, but I was on his home turf.

“Nice abs,” he said to me, his voice playful as if he were already coyly asking to play with my gut. He stared at my muscle for a moment before making eye contact.

“You want to play with them?” I cut to the chase. He may not know me, but I know him. I’ve watched his BG East videos time and time again. He’s one of the only guys in the game who actually punches his opponents in the gut with force, as far as I can tell as a mere viewer.

The change in his expression was stark and immediate. From playful to engaged — he accepted the bait by placing his hand across my navel. He rubbed the hills and valleys of my abs as I tightened them harder under his touch.

“Fuck,” he said. “Rock hard.”

“They are. They can take a lot of abuse, Ash.”

He knows I know who he is now. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he smirked.

“You think you can break through these bricks?”

He stood still for a moment, still smirking. “Why don’t we head somewhere more private?” he finally asked me. 

“I’ve got a hotel about 15 minutes—”

He cut me off, “No, I’m thinking my place. You’ll love my fun room.”

I’m sure I will, I thought. 

On the drive over, we discussed limits (I have very few) and expectations (that he’ll beat the cum out of me). Before I knew it, we’d arrived.

Ash’s fun room was about what you’d hope for. A well-stocked fetish playroom that any sub or dom would love to romp around in. But for me, I was happy to get started without toys or objects. I just wanted to see what an Ash DeLeon beatdown feels like.

“Over there,” he pointed to a bare section of wall by a window. “And strip.”

I did as I was told. Clothes now tossed aside, I stretched my body — partly because I’d been sitting at a desk all day and truly needed it, and partly because I knew Ash was watching me flex my muscular biceps as I opened up my abs, elongating them in a back-bent yawning stretch.

I took my position against the wall as Ash approached me. He placed his fist on my hard six pack.

“I’m going to blow these abs apart.”

“I want to see you try.”

He smirked in response. He began massaging my abs with his hand. It felt good. I relaxed my abs and allowed him to really churn my intestines as he pushed his fingers into my stomach, grabbing and massaging the meat of my belly while he came in for a kiss. 

I thought we were starting with foreplay, but I was wrong. 

We kissed a long kiss and I moaned as his hand continued to massage the guts inside my softened belly. With no warning, a fist drove into the maximum depth of the pit of my gut, flattening my intestines and forcing an involuntary UGH from my mouth into Ash’s as a deep pain radiated through my stomach. I nearly doubled over from the force of Ash’s first punch.

He moaned, himself. “I love punching the sub’s breath into my mouth,” he whispered in my ear directly before his next punch, an uppercut, plowed deep into the center of my gut. This one did double me over onto Ash’s shoulder.

He pushed me back up against the wall. “Flex,” he said.

I tightened my abs again, presenting my six pack to him once more. He traced them with his finger.

“Look at the golden hour light on these abs,” he said, appearing transfixed. The lighting did enhance the appearance of my six pack, I must admit. I watched him feel them for a moment before I recognized him stepping into a boxer’s stance.

He let loose a strong right hook into my gut. It slammed into my hard stomach with a stout thud. Another, a left hook this time. Then a cross. Each punch landed with deep thud against my hard muscle. 

But Ash was no lightweight. I was feeling it. 

Another thud echoed in the room as sweat began to form on my body and drip down my face from my forehead. He began earning baritone grunts from me with each impact of his fists on my abs.

He focused solely on my navel for a few minutes —

THUD

THUD

THUD

— before I felt a punch nearly wind me through my hard muscle as it made contact with my solar plexus. My abs held firm, but it was difficult. But then, another solar plexus shot. And another. 

THUD

THUD

THUD

The shots to my diaphragm were getting harder, and more difficult to protect myself from. I could feel my abs weakening under his onslaught. 

My cock was already hard, knowing what would inevitably come next. 

Finally, he stopped delivering cross shots to my diaphragm and met my upper abs with an uppercut, which blew through my muscle and into my soft organs.

Winded, I doubled over again with Ash’s fist still firmly shoved in my upper belly. A long groan of pain escaped me, and was apparently music to Ash’s ears.

“You wanted to see me break them?” he asked cheekily. 

He pushed me back up against the wall, belly heaving as I caught my breath. The light across my unflexed and red gut was quite a different sight than what I’d been looking at back when the punching began. 

He pulled my head forward as I caught my breath so he could whisper in my ear: “We’ve only just started.”

As much pain as I felt in my solar plexus, my cock couldn’t help but twitch.

His mouth connected with mine again for a long passionate kiss. I focused on keeping my abs loose, hoping he’d sucker punch me. I wanted it. But so distracted was I by his passionate kiss — he’s a fantastic kisser — that I was properly caught off guard when his beastly uppercut practically drove my innards into my chest. Just as I wanted, my loose intestines took the full force of his punch, enveloping his large fist as he drove it deep into my body. 

A hard, painful grunt was punched out of me, but I couldn’t double up with Ash in front of me. Instead, I was held in place by his body as his fist vacated my stomach before plowing in again. Another uppercut, this one ramming my navel up into the soft pit of my belly and forcing out an involuntary OOF. 

He kept this punch pressed into my gut, feeling around in my soft abs as if exploring my gut cavity by wrestling my intestines around with his fist.

I caught my breath as he pulled his fist back, but just as soon as I had, he launched an uppercut into my now pliant solar plexus, which he hadn’t punched since he broke my abs down. There was no grunt or moan, as my breath was immediately forced from my body. My knees grew weak and I felt myself slump down the wall. But Ash was prepared. 

I slumped down the wall only to be caught by Ash’s knee, which he’d strategically placed against the wall between my legs. He kneed up into my groin, impacting my balls and sending an almost unbearable pain through my belly. 

Most guys may have collapsed from taking a knee to the balls, but not me. But not because I didn’t want to, nor because I’m “so tough” or anything. No, I couldn’t collapse because he kneed my balls and immediately followed up with a cross punch straight into my lower gut, just below my navel. The pain of the ballbusting met the pain of a sucker punch into my lower intestines, making me unconsciously whip my hands up to cradle my aching stomach. 

Ash responded immediately by moving my hands out of the way and driving a punch into my stomach so percussive and crushing that I was sure my deep navel was slammed right into my spine.

Again, my knees weakened, and again a knee to the groin lifted me up just enough to catch another punch flattening my lower intestines into my body. 

UGH — “Fuuuuuck,” I started to say as Ash ground my bowels into my spine. I was cut off from the rest of my statement by a cross shot straight into my navel, blowing my loose intestines into my oblique muscles. 

By now, the modest body hair of my chest and “happy trail” were laid against my skin with sweat. 

My guts cried out for help — as did my balls. Usually not the object of abuse, my balls ached badly. But I couldn’t help but love the feeling of Ash’s shots to my loose gut right after a knee to the groin.

He brought me in for another makeout sesh as his hand wrapped around to my backside. He explored my ass with one hand while we made out, as his other fist gently pumped in and out of my soft six pack, pressing my soft muscle and totally exposed innards as deep as his fist could go.

Then, a hard punch right into my navel. Ash moaned as my breath entered his mouth. Another punch into my navel, and another moan from Ash. We kissed and moaned as again and again his fist drove deep into my tortured intestines.

BAM

BAM

BAM

Again and again. Navel, lower intestines, pit of my gut. He held me against the wall with one hand still exploring my ass. 

BAM, another punch, harder than the others in this round, deep into my solar plexus again. A hard burst of breath left my mouth and entered his as he moaned again. But in that instant, my knees gave out from the pain once more.

He caught me with his hand this time, cupping my balls and squeezing. Again the pain sent shockwaves through my belly, to be met with the hardest punch he’d delivered yet: a trained boxer’s right hook that felt as though it blew my navel apart.

A noise, perhaps a grunt, escaped my mouth as I doubled over and fell to my knees. 

Ash leaned down to me, on my knees on the ground clutching my beaten guts. “We’re still not done.”

I could tell he was smirking from the way the words fell from his lips to my ears.

He reached down and grabbed the meat of my pec muscle and pulled me to my feet. Along the wall was a standard issue punching bag and to it, Ash tied me.

He pulled my arms back and tied them behind the punching bag. Another restraint went across my chest and below my arms, and was tied to the chain at the top of the bag, this restraint meant to keep me from falling to my knees again.

And finally, he procured a ball gag, which he placed in my mouth and clasped behind my head.

I was exposed like hanging meat. 

He didn’t say a word — and I couldn’t — as he resumed his boxer’s stance. The meat of my gut, still unflexed, heaved as I breathed. Upon exhale, the definition of my six pack materialized, and dematerialized almost completely as I inhaled. 

He bided his time for just a moment. Then, he punched through the center of my gut to hit the sandbag behind me.

Okay, not literally, but that’s what it fucking felt like. 

BAM

Ash’s fist sank straight through my innards and nailed me to the bag. And again, and again. Right into my navel each time. I closed my eyes as I let him ruin my tough intestines with impact after impact, dutifully absorbed by my unprotected bowels. 

A pressure was building in my lower belly — I wanted to cum so fucking badly.

A left hook slammed my intestines to one side, then a right hook pounded my guts to the other. A cross then flattened them against the sandbag behind me. Muffled grunts, OOFs, and UGHs rang out from behind the ball gag. 

“Come here,” Ash said, pulling the release on the bondage rope, allowing my restraints to fall.

He pulled me toward him before firing a sucker punch into my liquid-soft intestines. As I attempted to recover from the punch, he turned me around and pushed me down onto my back on his fun room’s twin-sized bed. 

He dropped his shorts to reveal his throbbing cock. Mine, by the way, remained hard as stone from all the abuse he’d delivered to my abdomen. 

He climbed over me, feeling my ass with his hand to guide his dick. I nodded at him (still ball gagged, you know) to show him my consent. 

He paused only for a moment to lube himself before hinging his hips slowly, pressing his cock into my ass. 

A long, satisfying moan sounded from me as he slid in, the perfect size. He got comfortable as he pumped into me, adjusting himself as he did so that he ended up such that he could fuck me while over top of me.

As I’d hinged my hips forward to give him access to my ass, my abs were rock hard holding my hips up. 

“Fuuuuck,” Ash said as his cock slid against my prostate, his hand running along my beaten gut and solid abs. 

I continued to moan through the gag as he fucked my beaten body. 

He stopped caressing my abs and, while still fucking me, grabbed my balls with one hand, squeezing my scrotum to present my balls as they protruded from his clenched fist. This presentation of my balls did not hurt — he was squeezing my scrotum tight, not squeezing my balls themselves — but I knew what he was about to do. 

And I knew it would hurt. 

With his right hand free, he made a fist and gave my tightly-held balls a tap, triggering that now-familiar bolt of pain through me. He immediately followed with a hard shot to my abs. His punch landed with a solid THUD against my marble sick pack. 

“This won’t do,” he said, again flashing that devilish smirk. 

He adjusted me back on the bed — without once pulling his cock out of me — so that he could continue to fuck me, without me having to keep my hips up for him. 

Almost automatically, my abs were slack and my belly fell concave as I laid on my back. 

Still fucking me, with the pressure to cum still growing within me, he tapped my balls again with his fist before driving a punch deep into my lower intestines. 

I groaned uncontrollably, overtaken by the sensation. 

Again, he gave an impact to my balls followed immediately by punch straight into my bowels. All I did was hold my cock out of the way. I wasn’t even stroking. 

One final time, I yelped as his fist cracked against my balls. His fist, powered by his well-worked, muscular frame, plowed into my lower gut, brutally smashing my intestines.

With the punch, I felt the pressure release. Jet after jet of hot cum shot from my cock. The first shot struck Ash on the chin as the next several coated my own stomach. 

As each eruption of cum landed on my body, he punched in rhythm deep into the center of my stomach, painting my chest and chin with splashes of my own fluid. His fist was absolutely coated with it.

I finally stopped cumming, and Ash pulled out of me. He took his cock in his hand and didn’t even complete two strokes with it before he came, unloading his own passion onto my red gut. 

As he came down, we caught our breath. 

He collapsed on the bed next to me, holding his still-clenched fist in the air as he stared into my eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he brought his fist, covered in our cum, to my face. I kissed his knuckles. He brought his fist to his own face and licked it.

“Fuck,” he said. “When can you come back and visit again?”