The Muscle Punishment ﹠ Humiliation Society

-vs-

I did do a little reading up on you... You have a pretty good reputation in my books.

Good reputation..? Do elaborate..

What can I say? I have a lot of respect for a man who knows the value of body conditioning.

A good friend a long time ago, told me that any fight you can walk away from is a good one. There's wisdom in that. Body conditioning is a part of that. Keeps the steel firm.

Some wise words indeed. Body and ab conditioning is key!

Waddya say?

Wearing a tight tank that exposed more ginger furred muscle than it hid, Duke walked into the gym like he owned the damn place. A swaggering 240 lbs of blue collar muscle with green eyes, he stopped to overhear some people talking about the new guy, and when he turns to look, he flashes a smirk and starts to walk right up to you before leering with his arms folded. "...Folks are sayin you can take a punch..."

I step in close, smirking, chest brushing yours. “Yeah, they say I can take a punch” inside I tell myself but they never mention these abs can break fists. Slow, cocky, I lift my tank, letting you get a good look at the cut, hard muscle, daring you to test them.

There's a gleam in those chipped jade green eyes as Duke slowly sucks his tongue over his teeth and then he grips the base of his tank whips it off, exposing the dark red snarls of chest hair, his boulderslab pecs flexing and striating as he balls the tank up in his hands, his biceps swelling and shifting like living canonballs that roll beneath his skin as he eyes your sculpted body like a piece of meat, that hungry predatory look in his eyes slowly shifting back up to lock with yours as he smirks and then tosses his tank at your face, the cotton soaked in in the spicy woodsy scent of his musk. "...I think we oughtta take this to the ring then.."

 I catch the tank out of the air with one hand, smirking as I spit on it, letting him know I’m not impressed with his action. Without breaking eye contact, I ball it up tight, drop it at my feet, and slowly peel off my own tank, abs rippling, chest broad and hard under the lights. “You got no idea what you’re up against.” I give my shoulders a slow roll, flexing just enough to let every cut and line stand out then jerk my chin toward the direction of the ring. “Lead the way, big guy.”

The tension in the air is thick as they glare at eachother a bit but then there's a guttural chuckle as Duke starts to grind his calloused gnarled knuckles in against his palm. "...Go ahead.. Keep on underestimatin me, see what it gets ya Dave.." The bear drawls, that toothy grin sneering wider before turning to walk towards the ring, his hands reaching up to grab the ropes as he props a foot against the edge of the ring, shoulders splayed and carving thick welts of dense hairy muscle before hefting his redwood treetrunk thigh up and vaulting into the ring, hitting the mat with a thunderous boom as he plants and turns, walking backwards, eagerly awaiting your entrance.

I let out a low laugh, shaking my head as I roll my shoulders, muscles flexing sharp and hard under the lights. “Underestimate you? Nah, big guy I’m just giving you a head start.” I stride toward the ring, lowly with my sixpack abs tight, arms loose but carved, confident I go this. Reaching the ropes, I plant a hand and clean over, landing smooth and solid no boom, just precision. I don’t want to make a scene like you concious the are other guys around too. I square up, smirking, eyes locked on you. “Let’s see if you can keep up, big guy.”

The bear's eyes rake over you once more, noticing that landing and then raising his fists, taking on a sort of boxer's crouch, those eyes glaring over the top of his knuckles as they start to circle for a couple of moments before letting out a snarl as he shunts off his back foot his right fist raised back and slams a punch into your guard, the sound of bone one bone making a loud satisfying smack as he suddenly swivels hard, torquing a violent undercut into those abs with his left fist with a sudden jerk that sends reverberations up through his arm, feeling that wall trying to bite back into his knuckles... and feeling a spike of adrenaline flicker, once he realizes there's some real steel there, that grin flicking back over his lips through clenched teeth.

I take the first hit high, feeling the smack against my guard. Then that undercut to the abs came, where I hold firm, and flexed and tensed, the punch landing solid but not folding me. I grin wide, eyes lighting up, chest puffed as I breathe out slow. “That all you got?” Without waiting, I snap forward driving a shoulder bump into your chest to shove you back, then twist and slam a clean right hook toward your ribs, feeling the thrill as muscle meets muscle. Let’s see how that bear likes getting hit by steel!

Seeing that look in your eyes, its like liquid adrenaline, knowing he's matching up against the real deal, already shifting his body to rock a hook into your side when your sudden shoulder bump forces him back. Still mid turn, that hook has clear shot to his ribs and the heavy satisfying WHACK that slams out has fire surging through his nerves as bone meets bone, his ribs shuddering behind the bruising impact and letting out a pained snarl, only to stay in close, firing back a nasty undercut to the kidney before all too suddenly hiking a knee up aimed at those abs once more, that stoneplate rocketing up in a vicious snap.

The undercut to my kidney lands hard. Ouff a flash pain lancing up my side, catching a sharp breath from my chest. Before I can fully recover, your knee slams into my abs with a brutal snap, the impact driving deep through the muscle wall, making me grunt as I stagger back a half step. But I snarl through the pain, and twist sharply, catching his raised leg under my arm. “Heh… you hit hard, Duke…” I growl, breath rough. “…but I hit back harder.” With a surge, I drive my shoulder into your chest, using the pain as fuel, shoving him back toward the ropes, readying a vicious uppercut aimed right into your thick, hairy torso.

There's many a man who would've dropped to his knees, gasping like a fish after an assault like that... but there's fire burning in your eyes, reflecting back in the primordial battlelust smouldering in Duke's as you still manage to catch his leg and then charge him into the ropes, bulldozing him back with the force of a freight train, the fact that he's even able to manage the footwork to stay standing now betraying him as his back hits the ropes and rebounds him. Even in what feels like slow motion, he knows there's too much momentum to avoid the punch and the moment he starts to pitch forward, he does the only thing he can do, and snarls out a sharp blast of breath, forcing the air out of his lungs and tightening his own core up, those knuckles spearing in through that tight paunch only to find the brick of the bear's abs hard, firm, and tight, your knuckles already leaving a red mark from the blood flushing to the skin as Duke has no choice but to ride the lightning of that pulverizing blow, feeling it in his spine, his spasming guts, and then forcing air back into his lungs as he spits in your eyes, fighting dirty just to raise a foot to try and stomp on yours before hammering at your abs, that spikeknuckled chisel relentlessly battering at the gates of your core.

That knee still throbs deep in my abs, breath a bit shaky as I push through the pain. I’ve taken this kind of punishment before where the guys at the gym love testing me, punching and clawing at my core just to see if they can break it. But Duke’s hits are on a whole different level. His shot rattles my ribs, slams through muscle, makes me grunt and stagger. His stomp crushes down on my foot, his fists hammering my abs like chisels, and I gasp. My arms instinctively tightening around his ankle just to stay upright. “D-Damn… y..you don’t let up, do you…” I manage, biting back the burning in my core. Desperate, half on instinct, I surge forward with a shaky elbow toward your jaw, an attempt to break his rhythm, to push back, even if just for a second...

The elbow clocks Duke dead on target, the bear's head flying back with a muffled, clenchtoothed "FUCK" as he almost reflexively shoves his palm into your face, mashing your nose flat against your face, shoving you back and using that leverage to wrench his knee back out of your grip as they both separate, Duke's jaw feeling like its taken a bottle in a bar brawl. Blood spit is still misting towards the ground as he finally wrenches his head back behind the thick barricade of his defensive boxer stance, but blood slowly drools away from a split lip as his eyes spark with sadomasochistic pleasure. "..Get yer ass back here.." The bear's growl oozing from his lips like dark rich molasses before shunting forward with a heavy lunging kick aimed right back at the center of those cherry red abs.

The elbow connects and I feel the crack, hear Duke’s snarled but before I knew it, his palm slams into my face, flattening my nose, shoving me backward hard. I stumble, gasping. For a second, I straighten up too fast, chest pumped, abs tight but fully exposed, my focus flickering. Too caught up in the moment, too confident of landing that hit. That’s when I hear his growl. Eyes wide, I barely register the heavy THUD before his boot slams into the center of my already bruised, reddened sixpack abs, right where I’ve left myself open.

There's a moment where that boot smashes in, the tread biting into your flesh and he can actually feel the muscle wall spasm, the first inevitable sign that those abs are meat after all, and the sheer force of it condenses those guts up against your spine before momentum sends you back, clutching your gut, gasping.. and ripe for the clothesline that knocks your ass to the ground, laying you out beneath him.. the bear panting and snarling before dropping to his knees over your kicking legs, that violently toothy grin flaring out as he wrenches an arm away from your gut to raise his fist high, that bearded berserker grin looking crazed for a moment before thundering that fist down from the heavens, aiming it straight back down into that gut like the fist of an angry god.

The boot slams into my abs, and I feel it. It landed hard, and drove the muscle wall back, forcing a sharp, choked gasp out of me as my abs spasms under the crush. I stagger, arms instinctively wrapping around my core, hunched over, breath caught, completely exposed. Before I can even reset, your arm slams across my chest, with your clothesline that sends me crashing to the mat, back hitting hard as I hit the floor, dazed, legs kicking weakly. I barely manage a shaky breath before I see you drop over me, that wild, toothy grin flashing above. Your fist rising high, the whole world narrowing to the image of that huge arm, held back like the hammer, ready to come slamming down right into my battered sixpac. I can’t even get my arms up in time. I just brace, trembling, wide-eyed, waiting for the impact... it lands as I grunt deep and loud. I hear some of the guys in the background gasp.

It's like punching concrete, even now, the way that the bear's knuckles bash into your abs and actually recoil from the strength that still holds them together, his knuckles splitting despite their callouses and dribbling blood as he snarls in pain, feeling it shock up through his arm and into his socket, his wrist screaming as his whiteknuckled fist shakes... but punching these abs.. these fucking stalwart steel plates.. its addictive, and his other arm raises up, only to hammer back down, catching the side of those abs half biting into that soft beneath the ribs, accuracy going out in the window in the wild abandon of just needing to pummel these abs into mush, craving the give, lusting for that moment when they let him in... his chest pouring with sweat that drips more of that adrenaline spiked musk onto your body as he twists his knuckles in on that blow, driving in his weight even after the impact.

Your fist crashes down into my abs, and even though I’m gasping, shaking under you, I feel your strike rebound slightly. The hard ab muscle wall still holding. Your fist splits, blood smearing across my skin, and I hear your snarl. Your other fist slams down, hammering into the side of my abs, slipping just under the ribs where it’s softer. UGHH I gasp out loud, body arching under you as the pain flashes sharp through my core. Your sweat drips onto my skin, has you lean in, twisting your fist deeper even after the punch lands. You grind down to break throughmy ab wall that I’m barely holding together. I’m trembling now, panting, abs still flexed hard, but the burn is spreading deep, my body straining to stay locked.

There's nothing like the memory of your cocky grin as he looks down at the trembling, heatflushed face of a warrior trying to hold himself together. He drinks it in like the nectar of the gods as his bearded muzzle slowly leers over you. "..Truly impressive.." The bear growls, those eyes burning through your skull as his tongue faintly snakes out to lick over his split lip for just a moment before doing the unthinkable and wrenching his left arm back around your head, cradling it up to force his mouth up against yours, that tongue a tempest of harrowing lashes, brutalizing and pinning your tongue, sharing his taste, drinking in yours... and sadistically catching you offguard as his grin cricks a little wider, his left arm tensing up, only for his right fist to smash into the smack dab center of your gut like a force of nature, that battering ram crashing in deep as his kiss devours your scream.

I can feel my face burning, chest panting as I tremble beneath you, struggling to keep my abs tight. My breath shallow and shaky. Then your face looms in, that low growl wrapping around me as you foce my head up, your mouth crashing onto mine. His tongue dominates, ruthless and overwhelming, distracting me, drowning me in his taste and heat. A shaky moan escapes my throat, muffled into his mouth, my body arching slightly under you. I close my mouth and turn my head away and then WHAM! your fist smashes into the dead center of my upper abs. A brutal, crushing blow that punches through my flexed wall, making me gasp and cough as i groan URGHHH. My whole body to spasm under you. I start to get shaky and involuntary, as I am pinned. I try to desperately to hold myself together even as my core burns and begins to buckle.

When the bear relents, he kneels upright and smirks before putting his fingers to his mouth and whistling, the sharp sound calling his buddies over to the boxing ring where they look on in awe at the way you're twitching on the ground. "Damn Duke.. Did a fuckin number on him huh?" And Duke smirks before rocking back onto his feet and standing. "..Pick him up for me... I ain't done with this meatbag yet..." The blonde boxer wastes no time in hooking his arms up under yours and lifting you up to your shaking feet and then the brown haired gym rat takes hold of an arm, both of them holding you up, spread out and open as Duke rears back a fist only to practically charge in and ram that skyscraping uppercut straight up beneath your ribcage, lifting your feet off the floor only to wrench his fist back out of the small crater its left behind, and then grabbing you by the back of your neck and slamming a knee once, earning coughs and gasps, then a couple seconds later twice, this one slamming in just above your dick, those lowest abs taking the worst of it, and then a few seconds later a third time straight into that gut as he starts to laugh, surveying the damage at those brutalized abs... "...Yeah... Naw, you guys were right.. He can take a punch... But the harder they are.. The more delicious they are to break..." He growls as he suddenly slaps that gut before clawing his fingers into that wall, crushing and squeezing that tortured muscle.

Boxer 1: 

@juliantitanium

#bodybuilding #ripped #gainmuscle #power #stronger #pecs #chestday #arms #biceps #hairyman #hairymodel #hairybeast #beastmode #beast #beard

♬ BILLIE EILISH. - Armani White

Boxer 2:  

I hang between them, chest panting, legs barely holding myself up. My abs are raw, trembling, every breath shaky. You surge forward and your uppercut WHAM crashes under my ribs, blasting the air out of me. “ARGHHH!” I choke out, feet lifting off the ground, a broken moan as my body folds over, sagging limp in the boxers’ grip. You grab the back of my neck, jerking me upright. “Urghhh!” I grunt, barely able to brace before your knee slams up once “ARGH!” I cough sharply, body shaking. The second knee drives just above my crotch “UMPFF!” a raw, strained moan escapes as my lowest abs crumple. The third smashes deep into my gut “Urrghhh!” I sag fully now, arms dangling, body quivering. Then your hand slaps across my battered six-pack, a sharp smack that stings, before you dig your fingers in, squeezing the sore, trembling muscle. “ARGH… nnghh…” I let out faint, helpless whimpers, body shaking, the last of my strength slipping away as I fight to stay conscious.

I hear the two other boxers laugh, their rough hands with callus running over my bruised abs, poking and prodding the battered sixpack ab wall. “Damn, man,” one of them sneers, fingers tracing the deep cuts of my abs, “for a guy who’s always showing these off, you sure look good when they’re wrecked.” “Bet you didn’t think we’d enjoy testing that cocky six-pack of yours, huh?” I moan softly, trembling as their hands press and squeeze, taunting, their voices a blur as I fight to keep my head up, every breath burning through the wreckage of my once-proud ab wall.

To be continued...