Relaxed for him, my gut hangs out of my body just slightly, my slack abs doing nothing to hold back the weight of my settled guts.

He slammed another punch below my navel. The impact sent shockwaves through my intestines.

I smirked at him. “Get in the ring, pretty boy,” he commanded.

Oliver whistled. “You don’t know how badly I need to kick the shit out of a jock.”

The men around us Oooohhh’d at the sight of his fist sinking up to the wrist in my bowels. 

He kneed up into my groin, impacting my balls and sending an almost unbearable pain through my belly.

The steel toe of his work boot plunged through my bowels, only coming to a stop on account of the cement wall behind me.

“You’ve got a tough set of guts in there, I’ll tell ya that much.”

His fist was still in my belly. He pumped his fist into my intestines a few times. “We’re not done here,” he said.

His big fist was lined up with my bladder, prostate, and lower intestines, just on the other side of my unflexed and jelly-soft muscle.

He rubbed his fist up and down my belly for a moment. “Relax your abs.”