4: Jace & Reggie (Amtrak)

I first DM’d with Jace a good decade ago. We were both 18, and both in deep with regard to gutpunching. For both of us, it was our biggest fetish by far. As it always happens, he lived across the country from me in Seattle at the time, so there was no possibility of meeting in person. So, occasionally we would video chat, complete with him taking off his shirt and pressing objects into his unflexed six pack for me, and me doing the same for him, all the while hoping my roommate wouldn’t come back to the dorm early.

We’d stay in touch over the following years, but never had the chance to meet. Wasn’t a priority, and time just… passed.

That was until he messaged me to let me know that he was working as a sleeper car attendant on Amtrak now (he called himself a “first class attendant”, which I thought was cute), and was wondering if I’d like to book passage on a train he’d be assigned to. I could board in New York and spend four days with him traveling to Los Angeles.

He had a connection who could even book me heavily discounted sleeper accommodations – a private room on board just for gut work.

How could I say no? Not only had I been wanting to meet him in person for a decade, but he was a rare breed – in my experience, anyway: He was toned with decently muscular arms and a nice set of pecs, and a perfectly well-defined six pack, too. As far as I’d ever seen, if you find a guy with a six pack, he usually doesn’t want his guts punched. Maybe he’ll want you to punch his abs – to show you how solid they are – but rarely do you find a guy with abs like that who prefers to take it unflexed.

But let me be clear: I have no preference for abs vs. slim vs. husky or fat – I love pounding guts of any shape and composition, and love getting my own guts pounded by guys of all body types – but the sheer novelty of a guy who wants his six pack punched unflexed was, well, just that: a novelty that I wanted to try. So I set up my out-of-office email and agreed to the trip.

DAY 1

New York City, New York

I arrived at Moynihan Train Hall in New York City at about 3:20PM that Saturday. My train was scheduled to depart at 3:40. I walked on over to the escalator that would take me down to the track. No sign of Jace.

About five minutes later, I headed down to the 49 Lake Shore Limited, which would take us on the first leg of our journey from New York City to Chicago. There, we will transfer trains to the Southwest Chief, which will take us from Chicago all the way to Los Angeles. But for now, the Lake Shore Limited was to be my home – and gut bashing studio – for the night.

I walked along the platform to the first class entrance, where my sleeper accommodations were. There, finally, was Jace.

“Good to see you again, Mrs. Cussler,” he said to the woman ahead of me. She was pushing 90 if I had to guess, but among her luggage was a tote bag with Jamie Gillis’ face on it. She was a freak (in the best way) – I was sure of it.

Mrs. Cussler indicated to Jace that she needed no help finding her room. He turned his scruffy face to me, next.

“Glad you made it. Need assistance finding your room?” he asked me. He was being coy. I could see the flirt in his eye.

“Please,” I said.

“Right this way.”

He smirked as he turned his back to me, leading me inside the train and toward my room. We passed a few other bedrooms before coming to the room at the end. I let us both into the room, chunking my luggage onto the bed and sliding the door shut behind us.

This was the first time I’d ever had a good look at him in person.

You could tell he’d tailored his Amtrak uniform. This seemed so unnecessary and vain, but damn did it pay off for him. I’d already seen his six pack in photos, so I knew it was under there somewhere. Though he kept his abs in great shape and kept his arms good and pumped, his body was still rather narrow and slim. He was missing the whole wide-lats-and-traps build, but with abs, arms, and pecs like his, why would I care about that? I took in the view for just a moment, imagining him without the uniform before reaching out to touch his gut. He moaned with the simple pressing of my fist on the spot where I assumed his navel to be.

“You take off the shirt,” he said. Fair request of me, I thought, since he’s the one wearing a whole uniform and I’ve only got Wranglers and a tee shirt.

I whipped the shirt over my head. “Fuuuuck,” he said, maneuvering me against the wall. He slowly pressed his fist into my belly a few times before dropping to his knees and licking my navel, darting his tongue into my innie a few times before grabbing my gut with both hands, pressing his thumbs together into my navel, as deep as he could.

I kept my abs loose, feeling his thumbs squish into the center of my intestines, earning a light moan from me.

He made eye contact, then threw a playful punch softly into my belly, pressing his fist into my guts just a bit before he said, “Back to work.” He winked.

What a fucking tease.

I can’t say my first day on the rails was very eventful. We pulled out of Moynihan Train Hall without issue and made our way toward Chicago by way of Rochester. I had a reasonably satisfying dinner in the dining car, though I wasn’t hungry – all I could think about was Jace and me playing with each other’s stomachs. Each time I left my room, I would inevitably pass Jace in the hall, eager to feel his loose belly. I kept my Spotify playing on a portable speaker in my room all day; not loud enough to bother Mrs. Cussler one door down, but just loud enough that if Jace were to come in to punch guts, our stifled grunts and moans wouldn’t be heard.

Finally, it was a little after 10PM and the train had gone quiet. The lights in the hall of the sleeping car had dimmed. By now, Jace was off for the evening. He gave a quiet knock on my door. When I answered, his eyes were already lasered in. I knew he’d taken beatings to the guts before, and knew he’d given them, too. We both preferred one-sided beatdowns, which are essentially all I engage with anyway.

“Whose guts are first?” I asked as he removed his uniform. I’d only undressed to my jeans; he was taking everything off. I followed suit and dropped my Wranglers and Calvins. He finished removing his uniform to reveal an average cock with an ultra-groomed bush as he turned back toward me. His abs and pecs were just as marvelous as his photos. His pecs hung out over his stomach with respectable heft. The deep creases in his six pack made me start to drool – literally. He was clearly flexing his abs – for now – to show them off to me.

“Fuck, man,” he said. “Those cum gutters are perfect.” He traced the V-taper of my obliques and abs down to my dick. “Beat my gut first, man. I gotta have it. No limits.”

As he finished the sentence, he backed up to the wall that led to my ensuite bathroom, careful not to use a wall that directly separated me from Mrs. Cussler.

“So, no limits on any of it?” I asked.

“No blood, no broken bones, no permanent marks. But that’s it. Just pound into me.”

“Yeah?”

“No limits otherwise. I just want these guts to hurt,” His head had lowered as he gestured to his belly. He looked back up to me with only his eyes, which begged.

I remembered what had once been told to me, and said it to Jace as I gently pressed my fist on his rock-solid navel: “I don’t want to feel any muscle here. No muscle at all. I don’t want to feel a single muscle fiber engage. I want to punch intestines only.”

I watched his cock immediately achieve a rubbery hardness with only the command. His marble six pack relaxed into just a soft, spongey outline of the abs that were so on display only a moment ago.

With his six pack relaxed, his belly was actually softer than I thought. I played with his navel for a second, tracing it with my finger. God, his guts are soft, I thought. I pressed my index finger into his loose belly, feeling his vulnerable intestines inside squish under my pressing.

I launched a hard navel shot into Jace’s soft belly, flattening those six ab muscles — still barely visible! — into his spine. The breath forced out of his body was so honest and deep. He was sincerely keeping those abs soft for me while my fist stayed buried in that slack six pack.

His mouth hung open from the forced exhale of my fist slamming his intestines into his diaphragm. He just looked at me, breathing through his mouth. I finally pulled my fist back from his navel, watching his spongy six pack rematerialize before me, still totally soft.

“Get in there,” he pleaded.

I launched another punch into his doughy six pack, again earning a solid breath out of him. I would normally start with soft punches, as a way to work a guy’s guts into the beating. But he was a no-limits kind of guy, so I pushed the envelope a little bit with a hard strike into the pit of Jace’s stomach, above his deep navel and just below his diaphragm. His breath silently forced from his mouth without even a whimper from the man. My fist plowed straight into his soft organs, the impact into Jace’s upper guts briefly causing his lower abs to bulge out with the displacement of his intestines.

I pulled my fist back and slammed it into the same spot once again, this time an uppercut, punching those soft guts into his diaphragm. Again, the breath was punched out of him; but this time I earned a soft moan. I still hadn’t felt his abs tighten at all. I really dug my fist into his diaphragm this time before pulling back. I noticed if I really dug deep, his eyes began to roll back.

I peeked down. His cock was as hard as it gets, already beginning to leak precum. But then again, so was mine.

That was all the inspiration I needed to keep going. I sent upward of five, 10(?) more punches into his loose belly… twenty, maybe? I wasn’t counting; I only knew that each right hook into Jace’s gut was met with complete surrender – every fucking punch felt like I was slamming my fist into a sack of liquid.

“Alright, c’mere,” I said, pulling him into me by his shoulder. He doubled over with the force of my pull, landing his head on my shoulder, with him bent at the waist. He stood there against the wall with me holding him up on my shoulder, his still-defined – but red – belly had begun to hang out, loose as it was, after such a beating. That beaten, bulged out, slack lower gut was the target I’d been waiting for.

I mean, he did say “no limits”.

I launched into a slow, powerful round of uppercuts into that protruding sack of guts, beneath his navel, compressing the full bulk of his completely wrecked intestines into his upper belly.

“Fuck – oh, fuck,” is all he could say as every punch brutalized his useless guts.

“Here – fuck – right here,” he said, gesturing to the center of his V-lines, just below his navel. “I’m gonna cum.”

I forced him back up against the wall, sinking my fist straight-on hard into his spot. And again. And again. Each punch rippled a shockwave through his body, plowing his intestines into his back.

Finally, a first for me: He came – unassisted – purely from my fists. As my fist disappeared deep into his lower guts, thick lines of cum burst from his cock. For good measure, I sank a few more punches into that same spot, to which his cock replied with a few more releases, before he was finished.

Jace took a moment to feel his red, swollen gut before he laid me on the floor of my room. I laid down, unsure what he was going to do. As I laid, he joined me on the floor as if we were about to 69 each other. He put his mouth on my cock and I happily went to do the same to him, but he stopped me with his hand, which then maneuvered up to my own hand, which he led to his belly.

“Play with it,” he took my cock from his mouth to say, before turning to suck it again.

We were both laying on our sides. I looked at his belly, totally mush from the long beating he’d taken. As he laid on his side, his guts melted to the side of his body, as his whole core was too beaten, tired, and swollen to behave like normal. Despite it all, I could still make out the outline of his unflexed six pack. I pressed my fingers into his loose guts, I pressed my fist into his navel, and I even sank a couple more soft (but deep) punches into him.

The feeling of his elastic guts felt so good under my fists and fingertips that with him sucking my cock, I came.

We laid on the floor a while before he finally stood up to dress. I flung my tee and jeans back on.

He stepped out into the narrow hallway of the sleeper car as Mrs. Cussler passed by, seemingly returning from the observation car, to whom Jace nodded. “Hope the turndown service is to your liking, Mr. Driskill,” Jace said to me, with Mrs. Cussler still within earshot.

“All good in here,” I responded.

Good save, I thought. As Jace passed beyond Mrs. Cussler’s now-closed door, he turned back to me, rubbing his gut with his hand while making a cartoonishly exaggerated grimace before he shot me a smile.

I silently slid shut the door to my room, turning then to my berth. I opened the curtains to reveal the moonlight layering the expanse of land between Rochester and Buffalo. I layed in my berth with one thing on my mind: what I’d do next with Jace’s guts – or what he might have planned for mine. Turning to my side, I surrendered to the gentle rocking of the train and drifted to sleep.

DAY 2

Chicago, Illinois

I awoke with the sunlight at about 6:30, but felt no need to get up. Eventually, I showered. I passed Jace a few times in the hall, but he was working so we had to make due with one of us giving the other’s stomach a modest love-tap punch as we passed each other, assuming no one was around to see it.

We pulled into Chicago at 10:15AM, where we were to have a four-and-a-half-hour layover before we’d board the train that would take us all the way to Los Angeles. I collected my luggage and made my way off the train. Jace waited for me on the platform.

“Guess what?” he asked.

“What,” I hadn’t a clue.

“I got approval that I don’t need to be back here at the station until 2:00,” he said. “That means we’re free to do whatever we want between now and then.”

My cock began to harden already. “But we don’t have anywhere to go,” I said. “Unless maybe we book a room or some–” Jace cut me off.

“I have a place,” he said slyly. “There’s a guy. Big BDSM dude from Vermont. We’d been chatting and realized we’d be in Chicago at the same time. So he booked a room at the Canopy Hotel. Right across the river; 10 minute walk from here, tops.”

He explained that this guy, Reggie, was about 50, roided out, and although he’s not specifically a gut puncher, nothing makes him cum harder than inflicting pain on a consenting, willing sub – the more intense (read: painful) the session, and the more the sub loves it, the better. Needless to say, this Reggie dude is thrilled to meet us, Jace explains.

He showed me a pic of the dude on his phone. He had a short haircut, hair was white, and huge, veiny arms and pecs. Yeah, the roids were apparent. This guy was gonna destroy us.

Jace was right about the walk. It really did take less than ten mins. Right away, Reggie picked us out of the crowd in the lobby, greeted us, and walked us to the elevator. He wore jeans and a polo; I couldn’t help but stare as the polo hugged his roided frame in all the right areas.

In his room, Jace and I left our luggage by the door. Reggie was a man of few words – he was already undressing.

“I don’t take punches,” Reggie began. “All this muscle is here to beat up subs like you two.”

He looked at us as we finished getting naked. Reggie’s own nine-incher was already getting hard.

“Looks like my lucky day,” Reggie began. “Look at this six pack–” he rubbed Jace’s belly, “And this beefy muscle sub here–” he grabbed my bicep and pulled me over, and rubbed my belly, too.

He stood us side by side. “I’ve got a three-day load I want to blow,” he said. “Whose gut gets beaten first?”

“His,” Jace said. I would have said the same thing, since I beat Jace’s guts last night. But the quick response from Jace told me he was pretty thrilled to get going.

“Alright,” Reggie said. “Then we’ll do yours.”

He grabbed Jace – not me – and pushed him against the wall.

“Oh, ho, ho,” Jace said. “Playing dirty.”

He had Jace against the wall. “You like it deep, huh?” He asked Jace.

“I do. I do, sir–” Jace began.

Without warning, Reggie launched into a sucker punch, completely taking Jace by surprise. The southpaw’s left hook obliterated Jace’s guts, striking dead-on with Jace’s navel. The force of the blow sent his guts totally concave, doubling him over onto Reggie’s muscular shoulders. Reggie’s fist lay pressed firmly into Jace’s midsection, still. The punch earned a hearty grunt of pain out of Jace as it immediately winded the poor jock, whose cock became hard almost instantly as his diaphragm struggled to get air back in.

A devilish smile appeared on Reggie’s face as he noticed Jace’s cock. His fist was still sunk deep into Jace’s relaxed abs; Reggie began churning, grinding his fist in Jace’s lax guts. The young stud’s eye’s rolled back and he began to moan, audibly giving in to the crushing of his intestines between his spine and this muscle beast’s huge fist.

Reggie removed his fist from inside Jace’s stomach. Again, that relaxed six pack rematerialized and hung over Jace’s waist. Reggie took a moment to appreciate it by using his fingers to outline the faint definition in Jace’s abs.

“Look at this gut,” Reggie said, manhandling Jace’s midsection. “All this muscle, for what? Can’t protect you from these–”

There was a noticeable ripple in Reggie’s pecs and he launched an exceedingly hard uppercut into the dead center of Jace’s stomach. The force of the impact crumpled Jace to the floor with an excruciating UGH. The young stud collapsed, lying on his side for a moment before rolling onto his back, cradling his belly.

I clocked in Reggie’s expression that for a moment, he was concerned he’d gone too far. After all, there was no warm up; no buildup of intensity. But Jace did say he prefers no-limits…

After just a few moments, Jace stood up under his own power and reached for Reggie’s massive pecs. He worshiped the man’s muscle. “Yessir,” he finally managed to say, “I just want to be a muscle sub. Please, sir.”

I was still just kinda standing there, but the view was incredibly hot.

Reggie, seemingly more measured, placed the palm of his large hand on Jace’s soft belly and pushed in, pushing the guy against the wall again. He brought his fists up to his face, posing like a boxer.

Methodically, Reggie began delivering solid, hard shots to Jace’s belly again, this time at a slow, methodical pace. The stud moaned deeply through the breath being punched out of him with each impact, clearly loving the feeling in his guts. Reggie was in full boxer mode: Right hook, left hook, uppercut – slowly, deeply, and controlled – but every impact had the strength of Reggie’s wildly muscular body behind it, plowing in until Reggie’s fist simply couldn’t go any deeper into Jace’s gut.

Each right hook into the jock’s lax abs slammed into the left side of his navel, causing his soft gut to distend out on the right; and vice versa of the left hooks into the right side of his navel. Each uppercut to his lower belly appeared to bulge out his upper belly – my cock was solid and I hadn’t even been given a taste yet. Jace was clearly enjoying it – his cock was at full attention as he had his guts racked around his toned build from each angle.

Reggie stopped for a moment, looking at me. He launched one more straight shot into Jace’s navel, pinning the stud to the wall with a pained OOF. “Get in here. Stand in front of him,” Reggie told me.

Yessir, I thought.

I stood in front of Jace, who assumed the position by holding me in a full nelson. The excitement of the moment had already caused me to sweat; the full nelson revealed the scent of my pits. Jace audibly smelled my scent when he noticed.

“Oh, fuck you smell good,” he said.

“Show me,” Reggie said. He approached me, placing his massive bear paw on my belly as he leaned in to sniff my right pit. “That’s real good shit. Let’s get you sweatier.”

“Work it out of me,” I replied. “It’s my turn.”

Reggie grinned. “Oh, no,” he said. “It’s still his turn. I’m going to sink this fist –” he brought his fist up to my face “–into his gut through yours.”

My cock jumped a little. Reggie just smiled. I felt Jace exhale into the nape of my neck.

Reggie’s fist rested on my relaxed belly for a moment before he pushed it into me.

“Yeah,” he said. “Fuck yeah that’s good. That’s soft. Cover his eyes.”

Jace, still holding me in a full nelson, moved his hands over my eyes. My cock was only getting harder.

No sooner than my vision had gone black with Jace’s hands did I feel Reggie’s fist plunge hard into my navel. The force of the punch winded me hard, slamming my guts into my back – with such force that felt Jace’s breath forced out against my neck.

I fought to keep my abs relaxed, but as Reggie’s fist pulled out of my gut I heard Jace whisper in my ear, “Keep it soft, Leo; keep it soft.”

I felt a sense of calm come over me – I’m in my element right now, among like minded fetishists free to explore this thing we share. The wall can fall. It’s alright.

I exhaled while Reggie pressed his fist in my guts, until he started punching again. Like with Jace before, he threw in left hooks and right, sloshing my soft intestines from side to side with violent force. I felt surrendered and out-of-body; just taking and accepting the beating, wanting more, euphoric from the pain in my guts.

Finally, Reggie’s assault on my intestines stopped. I know my face reflected yearning for more – mouth open and eyes begging – and as I stood with my ass against Jace’s hard cock, panting and moaning, Reggie delivered one last powerful blow to my guts, hard enough that Jace let out a grunt from the weight of my beefy self being punched into his taut frame as he held me.

Reggie’s fist remained in my guts, pressed in as deep as he’d punched it. I moaned from the pain as he ground his fist around, rearranging my loose innards. As he ground his fist around, he maneuvered it downward, parting my guts along the way until his fist had moved locations from the pit of my gut to my lower gut, where he spent just a few seconds pumping his fist against my bladder and prostate.

My eyes were tightly shut as I groaned. “Fuck!” is all I could manage. My legs – not just my knees – went weak and threatened to give way, but Reggie removed his fist from my gut before they did.

Reggie’s dick was hard, too. “Y’all want to finish me off?” he asked.

“Fuck yeah, I do,” Jace said, approaching Reggie and cupping his hand over the man’s crotch. “How do we do that?”

Reggie grinned again, looking right at me. “Suck my cock while I work Leo’s guts a little longer.”

Fuck yeah, I thought. I can do this all fucking day.

I stood against the wall and Reggie approached me. He began feeling my gut. “Show me how hard these abs can be,” he told me. I flexed my abs, and my pecs, too. Reggie’s hands caressed my marble-hard belly and firm pecs while Jace, perfectly squeezed between us on his knees, began to blow Reggie’s hard cock.

“Oh fuck, kid,” he said to me. Then there was a change in the tone of Reggie’s voice. “Now relax it. Get rid of all this.”

I let my abs go slack and felt my belly drop. With Jace still sucking Reggie’s cock, Reggie wiped his right hand down my gut before pumping his fist into my lower intestines with a powerful uppercut. And another. His fist plowed in deep, driving my guts into the pit of my stomach just as he slammed a hook right above my navel.

The combo felt extreme, as though his uppercut, following the hook, had managed to drive into the entirety of my intestines at once.

“Fuck, oh fuck–” Reggie said, hammering an uppercut into my lower guts again as he came, launching jets of warm cum down Jace’s throat, who promptly reached up and grabbed Reggie’s ass, locking Reggie’s cock in his mouth until the man’s climax was complete. As he came, his fist remained pressed into my guts in uppercut position, idly pressing on my soft innards – not that I minded the sensation. As Reggie came down from his orgasm, he took a surprisingly gentle tone as he refocused his attention on Jace and me. He had Jace stand, and for just a moment, he carefully fingered our (still soft) abs before thanking us for meeting up with him.

It was unexpectedly sweet, actually.

It was less than ten minutes back to Union Station, but I didn’t want to take any chances. When Jace was ready, we thanked Reggie and split. Neither of us had the chance to cum, but I wasn’t worried about that – I was still wildly horny, wanted more gut punishment, and had literally days left of this Amtrak voyage with Jace remaining.

Back at Union Station, I waited around with my bags while Jace did his “first class attendant” things. It was pretty hot to watch him navigate the day-to-day of his career as he prepared the train to board its passengers. He was mostly on board the train and out of sight, but occasionally he’d head back into the station where inevitably some passenger would approach him for help with something. None of the passengers or Amtrak employees speaking to him had any idea that behind the put-together, professional exterior and tailored, respectable uniform, he was dealing with a horribly aching jumble of guts in that trim belly. They probably would have never guessed he had abs like that under there, either.

Before too long, we were called to board. I made my way onto the platform and down to the front of the train where my new quarters would be. As he did before, Jace met me at the door to ask if I needed help finding my room.

I’d appreciate the assistance, I smiled.

I was surprised that this train was much larger – two stories tall, in fact. He walked me up the staircase to the upper deck, where “bedroom A” could be found at the end of the hall. He slid the door shut behind us.

No sooner than my luggage had hit the floor did he grab my head and bring me in for a kiss. I’d changed into a zip-up hoodie with no shirt beneath, which gave Jace the opportunity to unzip it with a single fluid motion to reveal my body. He walked backward, leading us to a chair where he sat, our lips still passionately kissing all the while. I leaned over him as we continued to make out.

He reached up to place his hands on my gut. I’d been unwittingly tensed, his hands meeting my solid abs rather than relaxed guts. He moaned a little as he explored my hard, muscular core until his hands stopped at my navel.

“Soften up, let me in here,” he spoke into my mouth. I obliged.

He began deeply fingering my navel before he gave me seven (or 10?) decent, deep uppercuts to the center of my belly – perfectly painful, earning moans from me as my breath was punched into his mouth.

He stood up.

“Just a preview, Leo. I’ve got to get back to work.” He smiled slyly.

I sat in the chair he’d just stood from, letting my belly rest relaxed as I leaned back.

“I’ll be here,” I said. He left to complete his duties.

I took off the unzipped hoodie and slipped on my old cotton gym shorts from when I played intramural sports in university – my favorites; they’re old and a little ratty, loose, and sit low on my hips – and an oversized white tee. I knew Jace would be tied up working with other passengers, so I set up a little station at my table by the window and cracked open my copy of A Gentleman in Moscow to see how many chapters I could get through before Jace had a break, or better, was off for the night.

I pressed my attendant call button, to which Jace replied by knocking at my door a moment later.

“I’m just ordering a tea,” I chuckled.

He let out a laugh, both of us forgetting he was more than a punching bag for just a moment. He returned with my tea and I dove into my book, window shades open, watching the scenery glide by.

Before long, the sun began to set. I hit the dining car for dinner, where I was sat at a table with three other strangers – two women and a man – who all knew each other. I still wore only the tee and shorts I’d put on (without even showering), but most everyone else dressed like they were out to eat at a nice restaurant.

Oops. I should have known better.

After swapping pleasantries about where we work and what we’re doing in LA (I made some shit up; I’m really just here so Jace and I can ruin each other’s guts for a few days), the women began speaking to each other about a hefty lawsuit one of them is going to argue at the Supreme Court in a few months. I took the opportunity to eat, now that I was no longer the focus of the questioning.

The man, who was named Quintin, was about my age (all three of them were), and had a hot doughy belly, as far as I could tell from the way it sat under his shirt. He couldn’t take his eyes off me. I smiled at him. He seemed nice and was definitely gay. If I weren’t reserving my time for Jace, I’d have invited him to my room. Alas. I settled for some time with all three of them in the observation car after dinner.

Chatting and laughing over beers as we went slinking through the American West was the perfect way to pass the time as I waited for Jace to free up. Though I’ll note that Quintin’s foot brushed my leg under the table upward of ten times. When I went downstairs to the cafe to grab one final round of beers, I borrowed the cashier’s pen to scribble my phone number down. When we eventually parted ways, I slipped it to Quintin. We’ll see what happens.

With the sunset long behind us, I returned to my room as the lights of the train dimmed to quiet hours. With that, it was only a few minutes more until, at long last, Jace slipped into my room; I'd left the door unlocked for him.

I wanted to punch Jace’s guts so badly, but I knew he would be way too sore from Reggie’s beating earlier. And truthfully, I kind of was, too.

“Let me massage that belly,” I said. “Or play with it. Something light.”

He glanced at his crotch briefly before smiling – even the thought of light gut play was making him hard.

I helped him remove his uniform. I unbuttoned his tailored shirt, gently. Slowly. Once his belly was revealed, I slipped the shirt off his shoulders and got on my knees in front of him, putting my hands on his ass and pulling him to my face. His navel lined up with my mouth.

I licked and kissed his warm navel, tonguing his deep belly button hole. He began to moan. His insane six pack was relaxed and soft for me, so I pressed my face into his warm belly. He put his hands on the back of my head, pressing my face deeper into his guts. I could feel his heartbeat on my face.

I stood up, whipping off my shirt and shorts; Jace took the time to remove his pants, too. Nude, I maneuvered him over to the bed, where we laid down next to each other in the cramped space. The bed was so narrow, there was no option but to be pressed against each other. But that’s how I wanted it.

He was looking into my eyes, but my eyes were on his gut. I was alternating pressing fingers and my fist into his super-soft stomach. In his navel, near his diaphragm – anywhere I could find the chance to squish a loop of intestines under my power without overdoing it.

“I want back in here,” he said, gesturing to my armpit.

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I adjusted my position so I could pull him forward and lock his face in my pit while I used the other hand to gently pump my fist in and out on his navel. His moaning intensified. I hadn’t showered for a reason.

He sat back abruptly, spooking me for a second. “Let me get on top of you,” he said.

He got on all-fours over me, so naturally I flexed my biceps with my hands behind my head. He dropped his head down to put his face back into my left pit, leaving my right arm free.

With him on all fours above me, his beautiful loose gut hanged out of his body, immaculately soft. With my right fist, I shot him some super gentle punches – uppercuts at this angle, really – into his free-hanging gut above me.

He moaned more, and reached over to direct my fist to keep going.

If he insists.

I began launching slightly harder shots into his guts, really sloshing those intestines around as they hung above me with no protection from that visible, totally loose six pack. I mostly aimed for his lower belly, but surprised him with a few harder punches into his navel. He moaned into my armpit for more as I continued to flatten his loose bag of guts against his spine.

Because that’s all his belly is to me right now – just a bag of guts.

“Here, right here –” he frantically directed me, placing my fist directly above his navel. “Please, right here.”

He put his face back into my armpit – smelling it, licking it – as I obliged. As he went to town on my pits, I gave him what he wanted: deep shots right into that spot above his navel. Each one harder than the last, working my way up and trying to be mindful of the beating he took from Reggie earlier.

Harder and harder, each punch slammed into the young jock’s loose belly, eliciting a Fuck yeah or a serious moan from him until, without stroking, he shot his cum all over my hairy pecs and muscle gut.

As he came, every rope of hot cum shot out of his hard cock timed perfectly with my fist brutalizing the central pit of that soft six pack, as if every impact inside that jock’s loose sack of guts was earning the individual shots of cum from him.

“That was so fucking hot, bro,” was all I could say as he climbed off of me to lay down on the floor. I stood and walked to him. He was laying there with his hand cradling his undeniably aching belly, moaning.

“God, I have fucking loved every minute of this,” he said, then began laughing.

I took a finger swipe of his cum from my own belly and licked it off. I took another, squatted, and gave it to him. He sat up to kiss me. His lips were dry from all the mouth breathing it takes to endure multiple meetups of gut punching. I pulled away after the kiss.

“Get some sleep, man.” I told him.

“You’re not gonna cum?” he asked.

I smiled. “We don’t arrive in L.A. until Tuesday morning. There’s time to work a multi-day load out of me.”

I popped into the ensuite bathroom to wipe Jace’s cum off me and heard him make a comment about how thrilled he was that this trip worked out just before the door closed behind him. Made me smile.

DAY 3

Across Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona

It’s Monday. I’d fallen asleep with my curtains open, so the sunlight had me up at about 6:00. I had a slow start to my day; nothing to do but wait for Jace to have some free time. I travel with a small bag of resistance bands in my luggage, just to get a little workout in when I’m on the road without access to a gym. I spent most of the morning pumping my arms and chest, with some leg work, too.

Lunch had me back in the dining car again, but no tablemates this time. I moseyed around to the observation car once more. Wearing the same oversized tee and short university athletics gym shorts from the day before, I sat in a chair facing out the window. On the window ledge ahead of me, I placed my water bottle and propped my feet up in my adidas Forum 84s. I once again cracked open my worn copy of A Gentleman in Moscow and got some reading in.

Every so often, I’d see Jace. No matter what he was doing or who he was helping, if we were in the same carriage, he’d slip in a few glances. I knew he wanted more, that was a given. But what did he have in store for me? He appeared to be pretty excited about something – every glance was more than a look, it was giddy.

The hours passed – I finally finished my book – and the earth continued its rotation. Dinnertime sat me at the same table with the same group. Once again, Quintin wanted something, but hadn’t the balls to ask for it. He settled for continued under-the-table action. I tried to signal to him that I was down for fun, at some point, even if not during this trip, by not stopping his foot play, and by smiling at him when he did it. But he never made another move, and never texted me, either.

We all had another round of beers in the observation car as before, but when the time came I was ready to get back to my room. On prior days, Jace and I had been able to playfully rendezvous throughout the day, quick gut play here and there, saving our big hookups for the evening. But this day, those smaller opportunities just never came. By the time quiet hours were approaching, I was fiending for more brutalization of our innards.

Finally, Jace appeared in my doorway, locking the door behind him. I stood from my chair.

“I thought of something fun,” he said. “I want to try it on you.”

My cock had been pretty rubbery all day just at the thought of getting to play with the jock again, but now it really started to harden up. He stripped his shirt and I followed suit.

“Whatever it is, man,” I said. “Whatever you want me to do to this belly…” I put my hands on his waist and felt his soft abs.

“Oh, no,” he said with a hint of devilish glee. “I thought of something I want to do to you.”

He stepped back from me and whipped off his leather belt in one go, snapping it as he did.

“I like how low these shorts sit on your waist,” he said. “All that lower belly visible. Only barely covering your cock.”

He took his belt and wrapped it around my waist, buckling it. The black leather belt just sat on my hips as he began to finger my navel again. I wasn’t sure what the point of the belt was – a leather fetish, maybe? But with only a belt? That’s not very erotic, but who am I to judge? My shorts didn’t even have belt loops. Whatever. His fingers felt sublime in my navel, though, and that’s what I chose to focus on.

I let him prod my intestines a little, pressing his index finger into my navel, and then two fingers into it, and then three, before he was pumping his fist in my guts. He pumped it into my navel, and then into my lower belly, before placing me against the wall to my ensuite bathroom so he could pump his fist into the center of my stomach. I tried to let him do it all without doubling up; the effort it took was worth it for the feeling in my guts, though.

I moaned as he pumped my gut; he hadn’t even punched me yet. His face was so intently focused on my belly. He was in the zone.

“Now, let’s try something,” he said.

Jace reached for the belt. He unbuckled it, raised it up my body so that it was around my waist at navel level, and cinched it in.

Oh fuck – I thought. I hadn’t done this before. The pressure on my guts got more extreme as he tightened it down. He ratcheted the belt tighter and tighter, only stopping occasionally to ensure my skin wasn’t being pinched. Tighter and tighter he went until we couldn’t go any tighter. I could barely breathe and I certainly could not flex any muscles in my core.

My cock was hard, though.

Jace noticed and pulled my shorts off, revealing just how hard it was.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he said. “If you liked that, you’re gonna like what I have planned.”

I thought this was what he had planned?

The tightened belt had split my guts in two. My lower gut bulged out, as did my upper belly, under my diaphragm. Jace rubbed them, pressed on them. The feeling was even more extreme than normal, considering the stress my innards were already under.

He started with some light punches to my bulged-out lower gut. Oh – this – is what he wanted. I’m game.

I couldn’t flex my abs anyway, so he pounded into my lower gut as deep as he could. I could already feel myself about to cum as my belly endured each punch – that was until I could actually feel my intestines, as he punched them, begin to move from below the belt line to above it, bulging out my upper belly while the bulge of my lower gut began to noticeably shrink.

My mouth was agape and eyes rolled back – cock rock hard – as I felt Jace’s fists literally rearrange my guts across the tightened belt.

“Yeah?” he asked, still smiling with a sinister glint.

“Don’t stop,” I gasped out, “Don’t you fucking stop.”

He laid into my gut from the topside now, plowing a fist into my solar plexus. Deep.

Did my eyes fucking bulge out of my head? Probably not in all reality, but it damn sure felt like it. Mouth still agape, his fist punched every last bit of air from my lungs in a single blow. Without a moment to catch my breath, he shot another punch to the pit of my gut, just below the solar plexus. With no breath in my lungs to release a grunt or moan, the brutal punch landed with a sick thud, noticeably forcing some of my intestines into my lower gut across the belt.

I caught my breath, but not long enough to say anything (though not that it would have mattered, because I was only going to ask for more, anyway).

He continued to focus on hard punches to the pit of my stomach, every impact blowing through my absolutely useless muscle and fully impacting my intestines with literally zero resistance, thanks to the belt. All straight-in shots; no uppercuts. He was trying to punch my soft guts across the line – and back again, if I have it my way. I continued to resist the urge to interrupt him at all – a genius at work – and instead just allowed his fist to punch the breath out of me, repeatedly. His pecs flexing and jumping as he punched were merely a visual highlight for me. I did not want this to end.

Before long, my gut above the belt had shrunk down, while my gut below the belt was bulged out more than when we started. Everything ached, I was panting and out of breath, and my cock remained rock hard and at full attention. Although the thought of permanent damage had definitely crossed my mind… I believed that was a problem for Future Leo, not the Leo I was now, experiencing one of the most unique gut beatings I’d ever had.

Jace dropped to his knees to inspect my lower gut. He felt it, squeezed it, and kissed it. He was like a proud scientist inspecting a new creation.

He stood. “You want more?”

“Beat the cum out of me exactly like this,” I begged.

The young jock’s expression deepend. He smirked.

Because of the belt, the punishment he dished out to my lower gut was isolated to that area, meaning I wasn’t winded by shots to the lower belly because my gut had been bisected.

He rubbed my lower gut a little more before delivering deliberate uppercuts below my navel. Every impact was extreme; somewhere in my lower gut was my prostate, being pulverized by my own guts as they made way for Jace’s fist. Every impact simultaneously ripped through my guts and made me feel like I was on the verge of blowing a load across the room.

Punch after punch plowed into my lower intestines, forcing guts through the belt line back into my upper belly. I could feel every intestinal loop that slipped through the belt individually, alongside the pain of the punches themselves. The radiating pain and pleasure was beyond anything my gut had endured before.

There was hardly anything left in my gut below the belt, with everything having been beaten across the line when Jace took a step back.

“That was so fucking hot,” he said, panting. He was just as tired from punching me as I was from taking it. “How do I get you to cum?”Beaten and exhausted, I simply gestured to my lower belly. “Beat it out of me, bro.”

Jace had vacated so much of my innards from where they normally were to above the belt. My lower gut wasn’t empty – I don’t even know if that’s possible? – but the feeling of taking punches to the lower belly was definitely different: way more painful, better access to my prostate, sent shockwaves through my whole body. Like I was taking punches in a vacuum pose.

Jace got to work. He stopped with the uppercuts he’d done earlier, and instead delivered some direct shots. His fist slammed straight through to my spine, I swear, when it connected with my navel. What a fucking feeling, man. Immediate pain through my entire gut, an intense urge to double over – which I resisted – and a rush of precum from my already wet dick.

He delivered another, straight into my lower intestines, well below my navel.

This one lit me the fuck up, more than the navel shot. Jace earned an involuntary shout from me as my prostate, bladder, and lower intestines took the full force of his punch. He kept that meaty fist as deep as it went before pulling back and targeting my vulnerable guts again.

Oh, here we fucking go, I thought.

I couldn’t help the pained grunt of this jock’s fist directly brutalizing my individual lower guts.

I was just about to grab my cock and begin jacking off, when Jace dropped to his knees and wrapped his mouth around my cock once again. He sucked while expertly continuing to punch my deflated lower belly. It didn’t take long – I was in such euphoria already that the second punch to my prostate after he began to blow me earned the reaction he wanted.

I was panting, sweaty, and practically had my eyes rolled to the back of my head when that final punch slammed into my body. I’ve never climaxed this hard – I spread my arms out against the wall behind me to keep standing, as my legs almost gave out. What felt like endless jets of cum were being shot out of my cock as I moaned in the most intense pleasure I’ve had. All the while, Jace swallowed and swallowed… and swallowed… his fist still pressed into my lower gut.

Still on his knees, he took his mouth off my cock and fell backward onto his ass.

“You enjoyed that?” He smiled. “That was so much cum.”

I couldn’t even reply. I – slowly – took off the belt. Jace stood and massaged my belly. I laid down on my bed. I was so fucking tired. Physically exhausted. Jace followed me to the bed and continued gently massaging my guts.

“I’ve never experienced anything like that,” I finally said.

“I’ve been wanting to do that a long time,” he began putting his uniform back on. “Wanted you to feel what it’s like to be ‘just a sack of guts’ for once.” He winked.

Had I accidentally said that out loud earlier?

DAY 4

Los Angeles, California

Tuesday morning, I awoke to realize I’d passed out the night before. I was nude from the meetup with Jace still, unshowered, and didn’t recall Jace leaving my room.

I stood and went to shower. Afterward, I dressed in a different oversized tee and short gym shorts. It was about 7:00 and we were to arrive in Los Angeles in about an hour. I made sure I was all packed up, unsure if I’d see Jace again.

But then there was a knock at the door.

I let Jace in and he shut the door behind him. It was now about 7:50, with our arrival scheduled for 8:00.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said. “I really wasn’t sure you’d want to when I invited you.”

I smiled. “I had an incredible time.”

“I came in here to see if we could each get one last punch.”

I smiled. I took Jace and walked him over to the wall. He took a breath and appeared to prepare himself. He was still wearing his uniform, but no matter. I sized him up one last time before delivering a solid uppercut to his navel.

He let out an OOH! as my fist dug deep into that jelly-soft navel and crammed his intestines into his diaphragm. After a sec, I removed my fist from his gut and traded spaces. He didn’t ask to remove my shirt, but he did feel my gut through the shirt for a moment before striking with a direct, deep shot to the center of my belly, earning a solid UGH! out of me. He dug around inside before removing his fist.

We both rubbed our bellies for a moment before he brought me in for a kiss.

I could see Los Angeles out the window.

“Catch you later, Leo.”