A Story From the Piney Woods by Damian V
They were four friends, Chuck, Charlie, Mo, and Vern, and they had been pals since their time in the army. They especially looked forward to spending the weekend in their cabin at the lake, fishing and drinking beer and doing a whole lot of nothing. It was a Friday evening in June and they were heading there now. They started drinking as soon as they left the highway and they were already into their third six-pack, laughing and carrying on as they wound their way through the woods, when they abruptly fell silent. A wisp of smoke was visible above the trees. Somebody was in their cabin.
They knew that whoever was there could hear their vehicle by now so Chuck drove faster, and as they cleared the trees they could see that someone was running away, and they blinked in amazement. It was a young gal wearing hiking boots, blue jean shorts cut off so high you could see the pockets, and a shirt that was mostly gone, knotted up just below her *****. She was long-legged and long-waisted and could have stepped out of the kind of calendars you can’t find anymore.
She was still in the clearing so Chuck floored it and they were almost on top of her when she ducked into the forest. The guys tumbled out, Mo going left and Vern going right to cut her off while Charlie, by far the strongest runner, pounded after her. He got a hand on her wrist but she spun around slammed her foot right into his crotch and brought him to his knees. Chuck had caught up enough to reach out for her, but she stepped back just enough to draw him off balance and tugged on his sleeve, sending him crashing into the bushes.
Vern and Mo came in from the sides and Chuck picked himself up quickly. Her eyes darted between them as she dropped to a fighter’s crouch and held up her hands like some sort of kung fu grip. Charlie’s balls felt like they were behind his navel, but he had played sports in school and he tried to tackle her from behind. She sensed him and stepped up but he got his arms wrapped around one of her legs and held on tight. Her hands flashed through the air in chops that would have hurt, but the men were able to avoid or deflect them and soon Vern and Mo each had a firm grip on one of her hands. Chuck stepped up and THWUMP planted a solid slug right in the center of her taut, ripped belly.
She tried to double over but the men stretching her arms out to the sides pulled her upright and back, opening her stomach up for more abuse, and as Chuck wound up for another punch they did too. She had well-defined abdominal oblique muscles, and Vern and Mo targeted them while Chuck stayed with the plate-like center of her dreamy, creamy belly.
Charlie was on the ground behind her legs, and as the flurry of punches landed she was driven back over him, arching her back, and when he grabbed a handful of her hair and hauled her head back, she found herself even more vulnerable and exposed.
BAM, THUMP, SPLAT, SPLOK, the blows landed on top of each other, driving the breath out of her and breaking down her abdominal muscles, which were well-toned but not very heavy, so that her guts were soon taking the brunt of the impacts.
Chuck delivered piston-like punches with his right while his left unzipped her shorts and tried to pull both pants and ******* down violently. She spread her legs to prevent this, but Charlie gathered them together and in an instant, she was wearing nothing but her top. Chuck took advantage of the new view to punch his way down her belly and finally put one right on her *****, and when he pulled his fist back he saw it was wet with girl-***.
“Hey, check it out,” he exclaimed, “She’s getting turned on.”
Charlie suggested that they could have more fun at the cabin, so they all stopped punching. They decided that everyone would take one hand or foot to carry her, but the feisty blond became a whirlwind of chops and kicks, striking out in every direction. She didn’t realize how badly hurt she was, however, and the smashed muscles of her body core failed to respond properly.
Mo got the first lick in from behind her. He was half-expecting trouble and was positioned to kick her in the right kidney, causing immense pain and driving her belly-first into a solid gut slug from Chuck, who grabbed her neck to straighten her out and quickly gave her two more.
Vern felt left out, spun her around by her shoulder, and put everything she had into a right uppercut to her solar plexus, lifting her off her feet and knocking her right back to Mo, who was ready with a hard right to her bellybutton. She tried to fight back but didn’t stand a chance as she was punched back and forth a**** the group.
Charlie’s balls still hurt but he had struggled to his feet and was waiting for her to be punched his way. He was the biggest and strongest of them all and when his chance came he gave her the hardest punch he could, right between her navel and her wishbone, lifting her six inches off the ground and sending her flying six feet through the trees. She landed with a thud that seemed almost permanent. Charlie was taking no chances though, and he jumped on top of her, sitting on her hips to slam his heavy fists into her stomach and sides, driving up under her ribs and sinking deep into her guts.
She seemed to be drifting away but when he opened his fairly large and very sharp pocketknife and started tracing the contours of her abdomen with the blade, she came alive, kicking, screaming, and trying to push his hand away. The others swarmed around, holding her feet down and restraining both hands above her head.
Charlie ran the blade up the centerline of her torso and deftly sliced through the knot holding her shirt closed, and as it fell away her firm, pert breasts came into view. He used the knife to tease her ****, gently pricking her ******* with the point and making her squeal.
Charlie finally put the knife away and assigned places for the four to carry their captive back to the cabin. Vern and Mo each took one foot leaving Chuck and Charlie their hands. They carried her feet first so Charlie and Chuck, at the top, could use their free hand to twist her ******* or punch her in the **** or stomach. Her little shirt, hanging loose, looked like a way-too-small vest.
Entering the cabin, they commented on what a mess she had made of it and Mo floated the idea of having her clean it up, but Charlie had too much respect for her fighting abilities. Besides, every **** in the room was as hard as it had been in a long time so she was taken straight to the nearest bedroom and lashed to the bed.
A quick check of her body confirmed that she had three fuckable holes, so by assigning one person to stomach-punching duties to keep her passionate, everyone would be able to participate in what promised to be the most memorable ******** any of them had ever enjoyed. Pillows were brought from elsewhere and her ropes and restraints adjusted until there was room for everyone, and soon the great **** was underway.
Straws had been drawn to determine places and rotations; the action opened with Mo delivering steady closed-fist abdominal stimulation, Vern’s **** in her mouth, Chuck doing backdoor service, and Charlie in the conventional role. After a certain amount of time, everyone moved one click clockwise when viewed from her left, so the ******* recipient became the puncher, whose **** entered her *****, and the fucker took over **** duties from the one who started getting head.
It was a good system. The guys had often talked about bringing an ****** or two along, and as the evening went on they started to realize what they had been missing. From her perspective, it was just business as usual, although the stomach punching was becoming quite tiring, especially on Charlie’s shift. His huge muscles made their presence known, and his balls still remembered her kick.
Vern also had a devilish technique. He would leave his fist sunk into her belly for just an instant and twist it, and there was definitely a unique and unpleasant effect. She was thankful that kidney punches had not figured in the action too much, since they were her least favorite form of punishment. But on toward midnight, someone had the bright idea of rearranging the scene so that she was face-down with her **** in the air, and the kidney punch became everyone’s default method. Her sides were still accessible, and once in a while, someone reached around to land a proper stomach punch. She almost said something, but it was hard to talk with a **** in her mouth, so she just closed her eyes and toughed it out.
The party went on most of the night and she was the last one to fall asleep. Charlie got up early and made coffee and also breakfast for five. Mo thoughtfully retrieved her shorts and underwear from the woods, and her shirt was so ruined she discarded it. They asked her several times what her name was but she said nothing. Just as everyone was finishing they heard the sound of a vehicle approaching, and she said, “That will be Abner”.
‘Abner’, thought Charlie. ‘This must be some yahoo with a shotgun’. Everyone watched as a beat-up old pickup truck came into sight. There was a Confederate flag in the back window, making Mo especially anxious, as he happened to be Black. The man that got out was very fit, about 180 fat-free lbs., and he looked like he could take care of himself.
He nevertheless approached meekly and even knocked on the door, which was standing open. Charlie bid him come in, offered him a seat, and got him a cup of coffee. He sat for a moment, his sad eyes beholding her nakedness and her bruised stomach, and said: “Well, Daisy Mae, are you ready to come home?”
She said nothing so he continued: “I don’t hold nothing against you fellas. Fact is, I got a little rough with Daisy Mae the other night trying to get her warmed up, and I knew she would come here, but I didn’t expect you to be here too. I’ll replenish any supplies she used. I guess you already figured out Daisy Mae’s secret. She proves the truth of the old saying, ‘The way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach’.”