08-04-2008, 04:10 PM
Contest written by dfkl
This was inspired by some of the 'classics'
"That's pretty stupid," said Amy, looking at the poster on the dorm wall. "What?" asked her friend Gina. "This ad. This guy's selling a car he just bought. But he says he'll give it away if the prospective buyer is willing to enter this contest," said Amy. "It just doesn't say what contest." "Sounds like someone's trying to lure someone into a trap," said Gina. "You can always find something else." "But I want a Jeep so badly," said Amy. "At least I can give the owner a fake e-mail address. I'm sure he or she will understand." Later that night, Amy sent an e-mail to the address on the ad. She went about surfing, every now and then checking to see if she got a response. About an hour later, she got a new message right from the seller.
"So, you're interested? Come on over and check it out. As for the contest - well, you might not want to enter if you don't have intestinal fortitude." The e-mail had directions, etc. Amy was a little insulted. She always prided herself on being one to never give up. She was curious about what the seller meant by that and sent a reply. The response came back. "You should have a strong stomach to enter this contest." "Great!" thought Amy. She was studying to be a nurse and had been exposed to a lot of things. She had never gotten sick over anything except for the time someone told her a cockroach had just walked over her food when she was away.
The next day, Amy and Gina went to the place where the vehicle was supposed to be sold. They were a little concerned when a part of the route took them through a lightly wooded, off road area, but it was no problem for Gina's Geo Tracker. Both girls were outdoorsy explorers who's idea of dressing up was a pair of denim shorts, hiking shoes, a tank top and maybe a sweater for the mornings and evenings. Amy was a little more of a city-girl. She sported a pierced navel that she'd insist on showing off, even though she had a concave belly that protruded from just above her navel on down. Gina was another dark haired beauty who preferred flannel but tied it off at her waste today. The e-mail had mentioned intestinal fortitude, and she was sure the seller might get that impression from her, if Amy's slight potbelly didn't pull it off.
They found the location because the Jeep was in the yard in front of the house. The mailbox was the dead giveaway. "They used their real name," said Amy, remembering the name on the e-mail. "Cool." The girls went up to the door and knocked.
A few seconds later, a 30 something lady opened the door. "May I help you?" "We're here about the Jeep," said Amy, beaming. "Oh, that," said the lady. "Sure. Come on in."
The girls entered the house. It didn't look too lived in, but they figured the occupants had probably just moved in. Amy noticed a paper with "Contract" in bold letters sitting on a coffee table.
"So, why did you want to sell the Jeep?" asked Amy. The wiry lady looked up at her. "Oh, that. We need something bigger. Besides, that opened air stuff is for the young ones." Amy looked at Gina a bit puzzled. They were both thinking that the lady didn't seem to be far removed in age from their kind. "Here, let me get you some milk," said the lady. "Um...no thanks," said Gina. "Milk makes me balloon up and nauseous."
The lady stopped in her tracks. "Oh, by the way. Are you still interested in the contest?" Amy nodded. "I'm a med student. I think I can handle anything you might have been thinking about." The lady moved next to Amy. Amy noticed the lady's 6-pack abs and made a weak effort to suck in her belly. "You must work out," said Amy.
"Ahh," said the lady. "Here are the rules. It's a stomach punching contest." "What," Amy gulped. Gina stepped forward. She had done this once before as a dare and sucker punched the girl who made the dare, making her cry. "We trade punches." "How about a wrestling match?" said Amy. She knew she outweighed the lady by at least 10 lbs., thanks to the freshman 15 and her heavier bone structure. "Punches," said the lady. She pulled off her T-shirt, revealing workout attire and more of her flat 6 pack. "You can punch me anywhere my stomach is bare twice. Then, I punch you once in the place on your belly of your choosing. If you can take 4, you get the Jeep. I've got the paper right there on the desk."
Amy's stomach began to churn nervously. She also noted that the lady referred to her abdomen as a belly. Gina went up and whispered to Amy. "Just tighten your tummy. It's a little bit of pain, but it'll be worth it." Amy jabbed Gina right in her stomach, making Gina grunt slightly and reach for her own stomach.
"Okay," said Amy. She nervously pulled up her denim shorts, trying to make the target less visible. "Right here," she said, pointing to the spot right below her navel. She knew a higher punch might make her vomit instantly. Lower - she had never been punched there, but those were her intestines. She figured she couldn't puke from her intestines." "You go first," said the lady.
Amy cocked her elbow and threw a straight, girlish punch at the lady's navel. The lady jerked back slightly but stood her ground. "You get one more," she said. Amy suddenly wanted to just walk out. Anyone who acted that nonchalantly after being hit must be crazy. Amy repeated the same punch, but still not as hard as she could, hoping that the lady would return the favor. After all, the lady was must be a fitness expert and she wouldn't make someone take more than their body was designed to take. The lady drew her fist and rocketed it into Amy's lower belly. UNGHH! Cried Amy.
Whatever cushion Amy had hoped her pants might provide disappeared along with the fist that rammed through her intestines and upward, shoving her nervous stomach and its contents into her diaphragm. Amy staggered backwards and tumbled to the floor, arching her back and forcing her belly outward. She couldn't push the sensation of the fist in her gut away. Her brain told her to run, but her legs refused to go anywhere but up against her as tightly as she could, squeezing her arms against her devastated belly.
Gina started to rush at the lady in anger, but she knew she couldn't take her, and she rushed to Amy's side. Amy sobbed like a schoolgirl. She gasped for air and choked and gagged, her sides heaving in and out. Gina tried to console her, but Amy kept trying to roll and squirm. The lady sat down on the couch and lit a cigarette. "Just let me know when you two are ready to go back to your mommies." Gina glared at her. "You're a real bitch," she said. "Girlfriend," said the lady after a puff. "Your friend got herself into this mess. Speaking of mess, I think she's about to make one in your lap."
Gina looked back in horror as Amy attempted to raise herself up on one arm, the other still pressed tightly to her heaving gut. Then, she began to dribble, her cheeks puffed up, and she retched a stream of her stomach's contents onto Gina's lap. "Now, I suggest you ladies go," said the lady. "It's a good thing I don't use a carpet, or else you'd be cleaning up, now GET!
This was inspired by some of the 'classics'
"That's pretty stupid," said Amy, looking at the poster on the dorm wall. "What?" asked her friend Gina. "This ad. This guy's selling a car he just bought. But he says he'll give it away if the prospective buyer is willing to enter this contest," said Amy. "It just doesn't say what contest." "Sounds like someone's trying to lure someone into a trap," said Gina. "You can always find something else." "But I want a Jeep so badly," said Amy. "At least I can give the owner a fake e-mail address. I'm sure he or she will understand." Later that night, Amy sent an e-mail to the address on the ad. She went about surfing, every now and then checking to see if she got a response. About an hour later, she got a new message right from the seller.
"So, you're interested? Come on over and check it out. As for the contest - well, you might not want to enter if you don't have intestinal fortitude." The e-mail had directions, etc. Amy was a little insulted. She always prided herself on being one to never give up. She was curious about what the seller meant by that and sent a reply. The response came back. "You should have a strong stomach to enter this contest." "Great!" thought Amy. She was studying to be a nurse and had been exposed to a lot of things. She had never gotten sick over anything except for the time someone told her a cockroach had just walked over her food when she was away.
The next day, Amy and Gina went to the place where the vehicle was supposed to be sold. They were a little concerned when a part of the route took them through a lightly wooded, off road area, but it was no problem for Gina's Geo Tracker. Both girls were outdoorsy explorers who's idea of dressing up was a pair of denim shorts, hiking shoes, a tank top and maybe a sweater for the mornings and evenings. Amy was a little more of a city-girl. She sported a pierced navel that she'd insist on showing off, even though she had a concave belly that protruded from just above her navel on down. Gina was another dark haired beauty who preferred flannel but tied it off at her waste today. The e-mail had mentioned intestinal fortitude, and she was sure the seller might get that impression from her, if Amy's slight potbelly didn't pull it off.
They found the location because the Jeep was in the yard in front of the house. The mailbox was the dead giveaway. "They used their real name," said Amy, remembering the name on the e-mail. "Cool." The girls went up to the door and knocked.
A few seconds later, a 30 something lady opened the door. "May I help you?" "We're here about the Jeep," said Amy, beaming. "Oh, that," said the lady. "Sure. Come on in."
The girls entered the house. It didn't look too lived in, but they figured the occupants had probably just moved in. Amy noticed a paper with "Contract" in bold letters sitting on a coffee table.
"So, why did you want to sell the Jeep?" asked Amy. The wiry lady looked up at her. "Oh, that. We need something bigger. Besides, that opened air stuff is for the young ones." Amy looked at Gina a bit puzzled. They were both thinking that the lady didn't seem to be far removed in age from their kind. "Here, let me get you some milk," said the lady. "Um...no thanks," said Gina. "Milk makes me balloon up and nauseous."
The lady stopped in her tracks. "Oh, by the way. Are you still interested in the contest?" Amy nodded. "I'm a med student. I think I can handle anything you might have been thinking about." The lady moved next to Amy. Amy noticed the lady's 6-pack abs and made a weak effort to suck in her belly. "You must work out," said Amy.
"Ahh," said the lady. "Here are the rules. It's a stomach punching contest." "What," Amy gulped. Gina stepped forward. She had done this once before as a dare and sucker punched the girl who made the dare, making her cry. "We trade punches." "How about a wrestling match?" said Amy. She knew she outweighed the lady by at least 10 lbs., thanks to the freshman 15 and her heavier bone structure. "Punches," said the lady. She pulled off her T-shirt, revealing workout attire and more of her flat 6 pack. "You can punch me anywhere my stomach is bare twice. Then, I punch you once in the place on your belly of your choosing. If you can take 4, you get the Jeep. I've got the paper right there on the desk."
Amy's stomach began to churn nervously. She also noted that the lady referred to her abdomen as a belly. Gina went up and whispered to Amy. "Just tighten your tummy. It's a little bit of pain, but it'll be worth it." Amy jabbed Gina right in her stomach, making Gina grunt slightly and reach for her own stomach.
"Okay," said Amy. She nervously pulled up her denim shorts, trying to make the target less visible. "Right here," she said, pointing to the spot right below her navel. She knew a higher punch might make her vomit instantly. Lower - she had never been punched there, but those were her intestines. She figured she couldn't puke from her intestines." "You go first," said the lady.
Amy cocked her elbow and threw a straight, girlish punch at the lady's navel. The lady jerked back slightly but stood her ground. "You get one more," she said. Amy suddenly wanted to just walk out. Anyone who acted that nonchalantly after being hit must be crazy. Amy repeated the same punch, but still not as hard as she could, hoping that the lady would return the favor. After all, the lady was must be a fitness expert and she wouldn't make someone take more than their body was designed to take. The lady drew her fist and rocketed it into Amy's lower belly. UNGHH! Cried Amy.
Whatever cushion Amy had hoped her pants might provide disappeared along with the fist that rammed through her intestines and upward, shoving her nervous stomach and its contents into her diaphragm. Amy staggered backwards and tumbled to the floor, arching her back and forcing her belly outward. She couldn't push the sensation of the fist in her gut away. Her brain told her to run, but her legs refused to go anywhere but up against her as tightly as she could, squeezing her arms against her devastated belly.
Gina started to rush at the lady in anger, but she knew she couldn't take her, and she rushed to Amy's side. Amy sobbed like a schoolgirl. She gasped for air and choked and gagged, her sides heaving in and out. Gina tried to console her, but Amy kept trying to roll and squirm. The lady sat down on the couch and lit a cigarette. "Just let me know when you two are ready to go back to your mommies." Gina glared at her. "You're a real bitch," she said. "Girlfriend," said the lady after a puff. "Your friend got herself into this mess. Speaking of mess, I think she's about to make one in your lap."
Gina looked back in horror as Amy attempted to raise herself up on one arm, the other still pressed tightly to her heaving gut. Then, she began to dribble, her cheeks puffed up, and she retched a stream of her stomach's contents onto Gina's lap. "Now, I suggest you ladies go," said the lady. "It's a good thing I don't use a carpet, or else you'd be cleaning up, now GET!