15: Amir & Capt. Dixon (MS Astoria)

Seven days on the Atlantic with two days on an island sandwiched in the middle. That’s what we had to look forward to when my friend from college, Scott, and I booked a cruise on the MS Astoria. Scott and I had also been roommates for a whirlwind lease in a former tenement apartment briefly after college, too. Throughout our university days playing intramural sports and our young professional days smoking clove cigarettes on our fire escape, we learned a lot about each other, including our mutual interests in intimate escapades that leaned into the more extreme.

He is, unfortunately, straight. A beautiful man with a chiseled jaw and slutty little hoop earrings, I always found him hot. Not because I wanted to simp for him, but because he’d told me that he’s a sub. There’s just something about trampy straight submissive men with good hearts who treat people well that gives me hope for straight men at large.

More sluts like Scott, please.

On these hot summer days at sea, I’d really enjoyed our time at the pools on the upper decks, the arcade on deck 3, and on the Atlantic Cruise Line’s private island. All-in-all, it had been a great vacation, sex at sea or not!

Being that Scott and I know each other as well as we do, we also understood that as grown men we were likely to have a little extra fun on board the ship after dark. Needless to say, we didn’t opt to share a room. Instead, Scott booked a cheaper interior cabin while I ponied up for a cabin across the hall from him with a balcony overlooking the ocean. Not a big room, but a nice one.

I’m sorry, Scott, but I need a window, at least!

I was aware that Scott had already brought a woman back to his room on the first night. I wasn’t feeling left out by any means, though – I just hadn’t found a guy out and about who I’d clicked with. And honestly, it’s not what the vacation was even about, so I did still enjoy my daytimes with Scott and late nights alone getting stoned on my balcony overlooking the black ocean, the only things visible off my balcony being the white waves casting out from the hull of the ship as we ventured through the Atlantic, and the occasional lights of another ship twinkling in the distance.

That is until I received a message from Amir.

He messaged me on Grindr, just barely catching me while I was online for only a minute or so. He was a gorgeous, beefy man who was intrigued by my profile that promised fun times for brutal fetishists, in not so many words. When I mentioned that I was primarily into gutpunching, the tenor of his DMs shifted as though I’d begun chatting with another man entirely. Suddenly, responses from Amir were practically immediate upon the delivery of my own messages to him.

Yo, really? I never meet guys into gutpunching when I’m looking for guys into it. I always find them when I’m not looking. What are the odds man?

I was surprised too, actually. I replied, Yeah, bro. Love it. Giving or taking. Let’s meet up?

He replied, Major pain pig here. Bust me up bad, man.

Then, another message: I have a friend who wants to join. I haven’t had time to meet up with him yet, but I really want it. He’ll be free tomorrow during the day. I can hit you up.

Word. I just had to let Scott know I’d need to disappear for a bit during the day, but I knew it wouldn't be a problem. After all, it gave Scott more time to find a woman to help him get his rocks off by busting his balls and choking him out. And judging by his connection to a brunette he’d been consistently hanging around with who seemed equally interested in him, he’d probably found her.

The following day, I donned another pair of trunks and a tank. Typical cruise attire, I guess. It was at about noon when I heard from Amir – it was time.

I bid Scott goodbye from the arcade we’d just entered, to which he replied with a hammy salute and a wink. He then turned on his heel and followed me out, in fact, saying that if I was leaving, then he was heading back out to find the brunette woman for a “round three” with her – ah, clever bastard had been getting his balls tortured more than I’d even been aware of!

And there I was with a belly full of guts that hadn’t been plowed into with a fist in weeks.

Amir wanted to meet up in the Captain’s Club. I had never heard of it and certainly didn’t know where it was… I thought maybe it was a first class thing? An upgrade? Something extra?

I asked around and was directed to the bow of this ship and up two staircases, though I’d already been on what I thought was the top deck. Finally, somewhere near the ship’s bridge, I found the Captain's Club.

In it were about seven people. Most of them appeared wealthy, from what I could glean from their muted clothing that, while plain, was clearly made of fine material. Wealth whispers, and all that. Finally, I spotted Amir. In contrast to the older passengers in the club, he had disheveled “vacation hair” and casual blue shorts on, as he said he would. He appeared to be as good-looking as in his pics, too.

“Ah, Leo,” he said. His face lit up with a smile and he drew me in for a polite hug. “Thanks for meeting me up here. You want a drink, or you wanna head over?”

I declined a drink and we exited the club through a nondescript door into a narrow hallway. Along the hall were what appeared to be more cabins. Then, at the end of the hall as we inched closer toward the direction of the ship’s bow, we entered the last room on the right.

We found ourselves in a gorgeous stateroom. It was huge, probably the size of four cabins the size of mine. I watched Amir gingerly remove his shirt to show off his thick, well-worked, and beautifully hairy build. I followed suit, showing off the abs that he’d get to plow through later, if he wanted the chance to.

But I realized there was no one else there.

“Where’s your friend?” I asked.

“Must be late,” he replied. “Busy guy, but sounded like he wouldn't want to miss a good gutpunching session.”

“Does he know where to find us?”

“Oh, yeah. This is his cabin.”

Oh shit, I thought. Yeah, I was curious how Amir scored this deluxe room that I hadn’t even seen on the booking site… but I guess his buddy must have given him access to his room instead.

Amir crossed over to me and placed his hand on my gut. “You really like it all unflexed?”

“Love it,” I said.

“Damn. Me, too. It’s so hard to find. My bud should be here any minu–”

On cue, the door opened and in came a handsome guy of about middle-age, with a seemingly built physique. He was dressed casually, himself wearing swim trunks and a tee shirt.

“Sorry, boys,” he began. “I’m taking a break, but still had to go check in with my guys on the bridge before stepping away.”

He held out his hand to me, “Captain Vincent Dixon, nice to meet you.”

Oh, shit, I thought. The fucking captain?

“I see you two wasted no time,” Dixon said as he removed his shirt. “Didn’t start without me, did you?”

“Absolutely not,” Amir said, approaching Dixon, who took him in for a long kiss that left both men moaning softly.

“Let’s not forget our friend,” Dixon gestured for me to join them. I went in, kissing the captain as Amir worked his own kisses down my neck while his curious hand cupped my left pec muscle. My own hands found Dixon’s relaxed abs and bulky pecs, while Dixon’s palm was massaging Amir’s relaxed guts with some deep pressing into the sub’s innards.

A quick feel down lower revealed that all three of our generously-sized and untrimmed cocks were growing steadily harder, and Dixon’s was even beginning to precum already.

“Enough pussyfooting,” Dixon said with a grin as he backed away from us. Before he could ask who was being punched first or how we were to arrange this, Amir pleaded to be punched first, and to be punched by Dixon.

“Please, Captain,” he said. “I need to feel these arms in my stomach.”

Amir fondled and squeezed Dixon’s large biceps as Dixon played along by flexing them in a quick double-bicep pose. This earned another Please from Amir before Dixon palmed the back of Amir’s head with his huge paws and brought the man in for a kiss.

I followed them as they began to carefully stumble toward a wall while making out. Dixon took Amir’s hands and held them behind the man’s back with one hand while he felt the sub’s stomach with his other fist.

As their lips parted, Amir looked into Dixon’s eyes with a pleading expression, but no words. Just a face that begged and a core that was entirely lax, allowing Amir’s intestines to push the meat of his relaxed abs out from his body, presenting those loose guts to the captain with nothing to protect them.

Dixon’s mouth curled into a smirk as he went in to kiss Amir once again. As they began to makeout, I inched closer, to watch as he drove a fist into Amir’s body. The shot hit his hard abs with a loud THUD, as Amir had flexed at the last minute.

“Oh, ho-ho, no sir,” Dixon said as Amir relaxed his abs again.

“Sorry, sir,” Amir whimpered out. “I have to build up.”

“Then let’s get you built up, kid,” Dixon answered, at which point he drove another fist into Amir’s belly, softer than before, but landing just above Amir’s navel and still delivering quite an impact, as exemplified by Amir’s youthful UH! into Dixon’s mouth and the way his belly absorbed the blow. Dixon’s huge fist easily plowed deep into Amir’s guts, landing and driving in as though Dixon had punched a sack of soft, juicy meat.

With Amir’s thick, beefy build, there was a lot of gut to beat. Still holding Amir’s hands behind the sub’s back with his left hand Dixon began launching his right-handed punches into Amir’s belly, working the stud’s navel area as they continued to makeout, each impact forcing Amir’s breath into Dixon’s mouth as Dixon would occasionally break the makeout session to ask Amir, Yeah?

I could see the thick muscles of Dixon’s back flex and articulate as he punched Amir’s soft guts harder and harder. The harder the punch impacted Amir’s belly, the deeper he moaned and the sicker the THUD I would hear. I approached Dixon from behind, reached around, and took his now fully erect cock in my hand. As Dixon’s hard body launched punches into Amir’s belly, I loosely stroked the captain.

“Oh, fuck,” Amir whimpered as his soft guts were sloshed around his spongy belly as Dixon began ramming his fist into the right of Amir’s navel, then the left, and right, and so on back and forth. “Don’t stop,” the sub pleaded as he pulled his face from Dixon, no longer making out with the captain, but finding ecstasy in the pain in his relaxed core.

“Don’t stop?” Dixon asked, slyly. The sub’s head was back and eyes closed in punch-drunk euphoria as his intestines got worked over. Dixon let go of Amir’s hands and pushed him against the wall. Amir’s hands fell lax at his sides. Dixon put some torque into his next punch, the power of which I felt in the rock-solid tensing of the captain’s core and back as he launched his fist into Amir’s bowels.

The captain’s large fist hit Amir square in the pit of his gut, immediately driving into the muscle sub’s intestines, pinning his guts to the wall behind him, flattened under the large dom’s brutal fist. Amir’s muscle gut absorbed the fist; through the relaxed muscle and loose intestines, Amir’s obliques briefly widened to accommodate the displacement of the man’s innards.

A tight UGH! was forced out of Amir’s body as he doubled over slightly, stopping himself by coming to rest on Dixon’s shoulder, the dom’s fist still plowed into his guts.

“Oh, fuck,” Amir moaned. “Oooooh, fuuuuuck.”

Dixon chuckled as he began to grind his fist in Amir’s gut, presumably right up against his spine. I could see Dixon’s arm clearly flexing hard, pressing his fist in as deep as it would go. Amir was in another dimension of pleasure altogether, practically drooling on the captain’s shoulder as he groaned while Dixon’s fist ground up his flattened abs and intestines.

“I need a turn,” Dixon finally said, pulling his fist back from Amir, who immediately took his gut in his hands to cradle it.

“My pleasure,” I answered. I wasn’t sure if Amir wanted a shot at the Captain, but I definitely did.

Dixon smiled as he put his back to the wall next to Amir, who stood there as he held his belly and caught his breath, watching us expectantly. The tip of Amir’s cock was noticeably wet already, much like Dixon’s. The muscle-bound captain put his hands behind his head, flexing those mountainous biceps that I’d just witnessed wreck Amir’s bowels.

“Pound me,” he said, “except you don’t have to work me into it.”

I wanted so badly to get some muscle worship in on him, but that would have to wait. Instead, I led with an uppercut that caught the man’s navel and drove his intestines into his diaphragm. His soft innards gave way to my fist immediately, just like he knew it would. My knuckles felt the gut of a man who knew he loved to be punched in the intestines, his warm skin and soft guts conforming to the power of my fist. He doubled over a little and let out a deeply arousing OOH!, but I pinned him back up against the wall and followed with a cross shot straight into his navel, blowing out his relaxed muscular obliques like he’d just done to Amir. From my own fist, I felt in the captain’s stomach that both punches sloshed his intestines around his gut and earned erotic moans from the man.

Amir slinked away from us to a chair and began to jackoff as he watched us, settling his brow and focusing an intense gaze upon us as he stroked his cock fervently with his right hand and left his left to rest on his hairy, aching muscle gut.

I focused most on Dixon’s navel, having found that I greatly enjoyed the feeling of his warm bowels under my fist and the way he moaned when a powerful punch was driven into his navel. This appeared to be his sweet spot, as each time I rammed an oblique-blowing punch into the dead center of Dixon’s navel, his groans were hotter, and more precum dripped from his dick. By this point, the captain was certifiably leaking.

I decided to switch it up, giving him an uppercut to the solar plexus.

His upper guts gave way to my fist, immediately winding Dixon with a baritone HUH! as his breath was forced from his body and a distinct grimace appeared on his face. Intending to give him a small break, I slapped my hand on his gut and was just about to begin to rub or massage it.

Instead, Dixon took a hand from behind his head, grabbed my fist, and placed it on his solar plexus, nodding his head. The movements were incredibly quick, and the man had not regained his breath. He put his hand back behind his head, flexing both biceps again as his eyes begged – a submissive side to Dixon I never would have guessed existed based on his interactions with Amir just before.

I wanted nothing more than to oblige his desire.

THUD

THUD

THUD

THUD

I pounded uppercut after uppercut into Dixon’s diaphragm, the impacts only returning the deathly thud of fist on meat, with no breath left for Dixon to expel. Still, his abs remained slack and my fist continued to drive his beaten intestines into his diaphragm.

After the tenth uppercut, I stopped – and finally Dixon crumpled to the floor. On his knees, he doubled over and began to moan.

“Fuuuuuuck yeah, bro,” Amir said, cheering us on. “That was fucking hot.”

Dixon recovered, breathing deliberately as he stood. I helped the man to his feet and he took me in an embrace, moving his hands about my body. We took each other in a kiss and began to makeout as Amir approached. We folded him into our passion, running curious hands around each others’ bodies, muscles, cocks, pecs, asses – anything we could get our hands on.

I cupped Dixon’s pecs and squeezed Amir’s biceps; likewise, someone’s hand was running up and down my abs while another hand palmed my biceps and a mouth wandered through my chest hair and down to my right nipple.

It was Amir. Amir made his way down even further and began to tongue my navel. With Amir worshipping the deep recess of my belly button, I lifted one of Dixon’s huge arms and planted my face in his armpit. With the two sets of hands admiring Dixon’s own muscles – and one of those hands on Dixon’s cock – the three of us moaned while we exchanged body contact, spit, and sweat.

Dixon leaned his head toward mine, “You’re up, son.”

Amir heard Dixon, too. He stood as I moved myself back against the wall and relaxed my abs, my belly pushing out over my erect cock as my muscle gut softened.

“Hold his arm,” Dixon said. With my back to the wall, Amir held one of my arms while Dixon held the other. “Help me work him over.”

“Fuck yeah,” Amir answered.

Neither of them delivered any solar plexus shots, but both of them seemed to be really fuckin’ into my navel and lower belly, the areas that pushed out most when my abs were relaxed. Both men had huge fists, and both mens’ impacts felt as though they were slamming into the entirety of my intestines as one big paw would impact just to the left of my navel, and before that fist was even pulled out from my intestines, another shot from the other puncher would plow into the other side of my navel. As my innards accepted the beating without the protection of my six pack, I began to feel that same euphoric mindspace that Amir had felt, and that I’d felt myself over the course of a million beatings to the gut.

Amir’s fist slammed into my gut just above my navel, right into the center of my guts, forcing a deep OOH! out of me. As my intestines were crushed under his fist and displaced into my lower gut, he held his fist in, pressing deep into the pit of my belly, prolonging the pain – and intense pleasure. He dug his fist in as Dixon had done to him, grinding my loose abs and soft intestines into my spine as I groaned with masochistic pleasure.

With Amir’s fist still in my belly, Dixon drove his own fist into my protruding lower gut, where my innards displaced by Amir’s fist had pressed my belly out further than it previously had been. A deep noise came from my mouth as an intense pain erupted through me as all of my bowels were brutally crushed deep into my body by two muscular fists at once.

“Oh, that hurt, huh,” Dixon replied with a grin as my guts ached.

Amir pulled his fist back and I felt my intestines make way beneath the pressure of Dixon’s fist. He pulled me toward him, effectively doubling me over and making my lower belly hang out even more, and began launching uppercuts into my lower intestines.

THUD

THUD

THUD

THUD

I fought to keep my abs relaxed, allowing Dixon’s fist to lay into my loose organs. Amir’s hand slipped down to my side, and with a vicious uppercut to my lower bowels, he felt my obliques flare out from the displacement of my guts. Amir said nothing, but feeling my intestines get brutally sloshed within my gut as they were punched by Dixon definitely made his cock twitch.

“I hate – I really hate – to break this up, but I gotta get over to the bridge,” Dixon said. “Let’s wrap this up.”

“Let me back in,” Amir said. He walked over to us and began to stroke. “It won’t take me long.”

With Amir stroking, I kissed his neck, ran my tongue down his pecs and abs, and crouched next to him. I slid my hand up his leg and around his ass. I began to finger around his hole.

“Is this alright?” I asked.

“Fuck yeah,” Amir answered. “That, and someone punch me in the gut. Please.”

Dixon, still next to us, placed his fist on Amir’s stomach as I slid a finger into the muscle sub’s ass, kneeling next to him. He moaned as I played with his prostate while Dixon flexed his huge left bicep. Amir kissed and licked Dixon’s Herculean left arm as the dom’s right fist prepared to brutalize the set of relaxed abs in front of him.

Dixon’s right fist slammed deep into Amir’s navel, doubling him over and earning a hot involuntary grunt. Dixon pulled his fist back and straightened his muscle sub back up before focusing instead on Amir’s lower guts. On my [now two fingers] in Amir’s ass fondling his prostate, I felt the pressure of Dixon’s punches landing in the sub’s lower intestines, jostling the organs of his lower belly as he groaned in pleasure.

Dixon plowed another punch into the center of Amir’s lower guts and with me playing with his prostate, he came – and he came hard. With a series of “Fuck yeah!”s, Dixon kept punching Amir’s lower intestines as cum erupted from the man’s cock. Thanks to the edging he’d done earlier, streams and streams of cum shot from his dick, straight onto Dixon’s own abs.

Amir pushed off from the wall and pushed Dixon, who knew he was next, up against it.

With Dixon against the wall and now stroking his cock, I wasted no time plowing a fist straight into his lower intestines, still painted with Amir’s cum. The captain's warm, soft abs allowed my fist to drive right through them and into his bowels, forcing a low OOH! from the man.

As Amir and I took turns ramming our fists into Dixon’s spongy lower abs, he came, shooting onto the floor of his stateroom as he caught his breath.

All eyes settled on me. Amir turned to me and having noticed that I enjoyed his pits earlier, he threw me in a headlock, locking my face in his pits with my back bent slightly, opening my belly up to Dixon, who knew what he wanted to feel under his fist.

Despite the slight backbend, I kept my abs soft, feeling that Amir was holding onto me (and effectively holding me up) so I wouldn’t lose balance.

I inhaled his musk through his sweaty pits and bulging, muscular arms – like nature’s poppers. Dixon swooped in and fortified my lower back with his strong left arm while his right fist plowed into my lower intestines. I moaned into Amir’s pit as a violent, deep pain erupted in my lower gut under Dixon’s paw.

Again, Dixon’s fist found my lower guts, and again. The deepest tangles of my bowels were his targets, again and again. Each impact was followed through with Dixon apparently seeing how deep he could press his knuckles into my intestines. 

With a final blow that devastated the organs of my lower gut, my groin tightened as my own thick ropes of cum shot from my cock onto Dixon’s belly, which was still covered with Amir’s half dried and punch-splattered cum. As the final jets left my dick, Dixon pumped his fist in my lower intestines, only stopping when the cum did.

After a moment to catch my breath, Dixon straightened me back up from my partially doubled-over position and slapped my shoulder like I was his bro. Amir, hand still cradling his undeniably aching guts, knelt and licked a stripe of my cum from Dixon’s gut.

“When I boarded this ship, I thought the most fun I’d have would be cruising a shirtless jock in the sauna,” Amir joked. We laughed at the absurdity of our situation, having essentially committed some form of felony by assaulting the captain of a ship – but all rules fall by the wayside when he’s allowed to assault you right back and everyone’s cocks are hard in the process.

That’s the beauty and necessity of consent in a nutshell, I guess.

We laughed, smiling heartily with aching, red, beaten guts.

Shortly after Dixon had cleaned himself up, donned his uniform, and left us for the bridge, I gave Amir’s chest and arms the parting gift of a little further worship, earning a slight moan from him as my amorous mouth parted from the heft of his pectoral muscle for the last time. He brought me in for a long kiss.

Finally parting ways, I exited Dixon’s stateroom to the confused glance of an off-duty steward passing by. If he only knew. (Or… maybe he did.)

About two hours after – once the redness of my belly had subsided – I was relaxing in a hot tub when, from the connected pool, up came Scott and the woman he’d been seeing. She was a beautiful brunette, our age, and was hitting it off with my buddy as though they’d known each other for years.

There on Scott’s neck was a sizeable hickey, such that he hadn’t even attempted to hide it with a bandana, a popped collar, or, hell, foundation. (Or was it a… bruise? Hell yeah, Scott.)

With a knowing nod between two friends and former roommates, we confirmed to each other that we were each having the time of our lives.