08-05-2008, 01:52 PM
Danny written by Jaster
If I knew what kind of story was going to follow I would have said something much more profound but then again, now that I think about it, if I knew what was going to follow I wouldn't have been able to speak at all.
"I'm lucky to be alive really, in more ways than one." Just as she was beginning her story our food arrived, my grease plate and her salad. As soon as the waitress left, she continued.
"I was working in Vegas as a showgirl about 4 years ago when this happened. Actually I wasn't working as a showgirl anymore and that is why this happened. I had a bit of a coke problem back then. One day the choreographer for the show I was working on found out about it he told the director and I was fired. I didn't have a lot of money and had to find a job fast. I interviewed at one of the casinos and was hired on as a hostess. It was a pretty big step down in stature not to mention pay from my previous job, but it was work. My uniform was high-heels with black fishnet stockings, very short tight black leather shorts, a white tuxedo shirt with a black cumber bun and a bow tie. I was a little thinner then than I am now because of the coke and my legs were a bit fitter from all the dancing, so I looked pretty hot in that outfit. Anyway, like I said, the job didn't pay too well and coke is pretty expensive. What I thought to be a nice opportunity to supplement my income presented itself one day. I was walking a very drunk gambler to the door one evening when I noticed his wallet was enticingly easy to steal, so that's just what I did. He didn't notice it and left the casino. I stashed it in my locker and thought I was safe. I would just take it home with me when my shift was over. That was a huge mistake.
About 4 hours later I see the gambler talking to the pit boss. Then I see both of them go up stairs to the managers office. About 5 minutes later one of the casino security guys grabs my elbow and says the manager wants to se me. There was no sense in denying it because the wallet was in my locker but I tried to anyway. VERY STUPID. As it turns out that gambler was Louis Carpachi, who as I later learned was third in command of the largest mob outfit in Nevada. After denying what I did, they produced the wallet and said they found it in my locker. I knew I was in big trouble. Pissed off is a phrase that does not do justice to Louis's state of being. He was absolutely irate. The way only an immensely powerful and very short, fat man can be. Louis told the manager that I was fired and I was going with him. The manager then relayed the message to me, and I very quickly found myself jobless in the back of a very expensive automobile seated between two very threatening looking people. One was a particularly striking looking woman and the other was a particularly frightening looking gorilla. They are of course both bodyguards for Louis. The woman, as it turns out, is a Bando expert. She takes great pleasure in telling me all about her qualifications later on but I don't remember much of it except its some kind of martial art that specializes in breaking bones. The gorilla is just that. There is nothing special about him except that he had huge hands and he didn't speak at all that I remember. Very soon we are pulling into a warehouse.
Very soon we are pulling into a warehouse. This is not a good sign I'm thinking. And I was right. At the ware house were two more people. One looked a bit like Bruce lee and the other like Sylvester Stalone's ugly little brother. We get out of the car, Why Louis was driving his own car Ill never know. The warehouse is not exactly that on the inside. Its pretty well furnished. I bit like seeing a beat up old house boat from the outside and finding a fairly luxurious living space on the inside. We go over and sit on some couches and Louis offers me a drink. I decline but he insists, saying "your gonna want it." So I take it. We do some blow too which I had not expected at all. It was top-notch stuff, nothing I could have afforded. Apparently in Louis's line of work it was customary to be as hospitable as possible in any business situation, no matter how ugly the business was. And this was considered business. Not exactly the business of revenge but the business of reputation.
You see, I didn't know it, but I had damaged his reputation by stealing his wallet. Now it was his business to protect his reputation. After a couple more drinks we got down to business. Louis said to me, "since you stole my wallet and have damaged my reputation at that particular casino, you must pay the price. My wallet was returned so that part is square but the part of the reputation needs to be addressed, and it will most assuredly hurt. After saying this, he produces what resembled a twister spinner. He said since he was a gambling man and the incident occurred in a casino he would let chance choose my punishment. On the improvised roulette board was written various anatomy parts and one space labeled players choice. It read something like this. Toes, ankles, knees, legs, players choice, guts, ribs, arms, elbows, fingers, face. They asked me if I needed any explanation. I did not. It was very clear something of mine was about to get broken. That was the usual mob punishment for something like this. The mood in the room changed dramatically at this point. I was terrified and everyone else was alive with anticipation. I was commanded to spin the wheel.
Reluctantly I did so, fearing worse things would happen if I refused. Around and around it went. I was praying it didn't land on toes, ankles, knees, or legs since I was a dancer and hoped to be one again. It began to slow down, creeping along over fingers and face, even slower over toes and ankles. O god not my legs I was pleading. Slowly it crawled over knees, I was sure it would stop on legs as it began to loose all momentum. It began to stop near the far side of legs and tears welled up in my eyes. It slowed to a near halt a few centimeters from the edge of legs when gravity rescued my dancing career. By mere design of the board and the weight of the needle, gravity was able to pull it just a hairs width over the line to players choice. The Bando expert was not happy about it and argued the point, but eventually it was decided it was players choice. Apparently she liked breaking legs, it was good practice for her. I was relieved only momentarily until I actually began tumbling over the options in my head. It is a really hard decision picking something to get broken. I knew guts was on the board but never gave it much attention till now. After weighing my options I realized, all of my choices were breakable bones except guts. I debated this in my mind for as long as they would allow until they demanded a choice. I had pretty much decided on arms, figuring that wasn't a joint and a few months in a cast would heal me up pretty well. I had broken an arm falling out of a tree as a child and figured it was the lesser of the evils. However in the back of my mind I was still debating guts. When I was pressed for an answer I wanted to say arms but for some reason unknown to my conscious mind I said guts.
Her story had me absolutely captivated. I hadn't touched my grease plate and she hadn't touched her salad the whole time. I was completely horrified by her tale but for obvious reasons I was also mesmerized. She seemed completely entranced in the telling of the story as well. For you see it was the first time she had told anyone about it since it happened. It was her 'deep dark secrete' and she was finally liberating herself of it. I could tell she was glad to finally be telling someone about her misadventure. I wanted to say something helpful or reassuring but couldn't think of anything more comforting or intelligent than "hold that thought, I gotta go to the bathroom." So off I went. When I returned, less all my deionized, heat pasteurized, liver filterized cervesas, she was gone! No where to be seen. The bill was on the table, her coat and purse and gloves were gone. I was astonished. I asked the waitress where she went, and the reply was "she left!"
I'm just kidding I wouldn't do that to you
There she was just where I left her. She was deep in thought with her hand under her sweater absently rubbing her fabulously tanned belly. I slid into the seat next to her and placed my hand on top of hers under her sweater. She gave a cute little giggle and said "that feels good" then she placed my hand on the warm flesh just below her navel and placed her hand on top of mine. She pressed in gently and closed her eyes with a sigh. She then took a deep breath, pressing her lower belly firmly into my palm. That moment was fabulous, the sensuousness of her was intoxicating. Just then she looked into my eyes and said, "I don't know why but I chose guts" Just then I felt a tremor run through her body and she instinctively flexed as she remembered the incident. I removed my hand and took a sip of my cold coffee indicating for her to continue the story.
After I gave my answer, several things happened at once. Miss Bando swore out loud, Sly jr. cracked his knuckles, Bruce lee started shadow boxing and Gorilla grabbed me and jerked me out of the couch. He grabbed both of my wrists in one of his huge hands and then held them above my head. Bando ripped my shirt and cumber bun off of me, exposing my black lace bra, and tied my ankles together with it. I lifted my knees and jerked in desperation. Gorilla had no difficulty supporting my weight with his one arm. After a few moments of struggling I realized it was useless. I put my feet back on the floor. Gorilla then stepped on one of the dangling shirt sleeves to prevent me from raising my knees again. Louis took a seat in one of the couches to watch. He was of course not going to do any of the dirty work himself.
Gorilla had no difficulty supporting my weight with his one arm. After a few moments of struggling I realized it was useless. I put my feet back on the floor. Gorilla then stepped on one of the dangling shirt sleeves to prevent me from raising my knees again. Louis took a seat in one of the couches to watch. He was of course not going to do any of the dirty work himself.
It was Bruce who hit me first. He was not a really big guy but he was strong as hell and really fast. He was a trained fighter obviously. "An interesting choice he said, I would have chosen arms if I were you. It hurts less and doesn't last as long. "I was going to " I started to reply "but for some reashhhhoooouu. I never got to finish my sentence because he drilled me hard in the belly. I wasn't tensed up and his fist buried into my belly button. The punch made me jerk and pushed me back a bit. I felt my butt slam into Gorillas thigh. He didn't budge. Reflexively I tried to lift my knees but couldn't, they were trapped. In doing so I only tightened the knot around my ankles. Now Bruce was dancing in front of me, he landed a number of quick jabs into my exposed belly button. I tensed as well as I could but it didn't really help at all. His punches were sharp and quick. They all sank in deep. Huuunnngh, uuulllghh, huuuufff. My belly erupted in searing pain. His jabs hurt bad, on the surface and on the inside. When I did manage to flex a bit, it just made it hurt more on the surface and less on the inside. When I didn't flex at all it hurt less on the surface and more on the inside. Bruce peppered me with jabs. He was huffing with each punch and I was making some indescribable noises with each punch. I had been punched in the stomach a couple times in high school, but it didn't compare to this. Bruce seemed to really be enjoying this. He told me he was going to be careful not to knock the air out of me because he wanted it to last longer. I was terrified by that. How long would this last.
I had about half a second to consider it before his fist melted into my bellybutton. "HUUUNOFUUUUU" He was small, but this bastard felt like he could punch through a brick wall. And maybe he could for all I know. I had never been in this kind of pain before, and the terror of my helplessness intensified it. I closed my eyes tight. If I couldn't see him, maybe he would go away. No luck. He started punching me hard and fast right in the belly button. Maybe 10 or 20 or 50 times. It all felt like one long punch to me. Almost before he removed one fist, the other was half way inside me. His fists were small and bony and hurt like shit. He stopped after a while. I was dazed and found breathing rather difficult. Tears rolled down my cheeks. My belly was churning and I felt more than a little nauseous.
Miss Bando slapped me to make sure she had my full attention. This is where she told me all about her training history and expertise. I don't remember much of it. She was punctuation every couple of sentences with a gut crushing punch. And she was quite deliberate in going for my "guts." The tight leather shorts I was wearing tapered to a V in the front, and the bottom of the V rested just at my pubic bone. The V in my shorts was her target and she never missed. I remember her telling me that between punches one time. I was just starting to breath normally again when she punctuated me with her first punch. I remember screaming something like "OMYGODTHATHURTS" And it did, it hurt like crap. Different than Bruce's punches which all landed a bit higher. This was a deeper, duller more profound kind of pain. It felt like a volcano erupting inside me. She punched me again, harder this time. I heard the sound of her bony fist slapping against my bare flesh just before I felt the explosion inside me.
UUGGGHOLYSHT. I couldn't believe how bad this woman was hurting me. She had only punched me twice so far and the memory of Bruce's punches was like a G-rated movie in comparison. I thought for sure I couldn't survive anymore of this. She punched me again, even harder. My muscles were not responding to the nerve impulses I was sending trying to get them to tighten up. Her fist drove deep inside me, slamming me into Gorilla again. She dislodged her fist just long enough to replace it with her other. My body turned to ice. The pain was coursing hot through my insides, but the rest of me was icy cold. My guts were churning. I heard some not to reassuring sounds coming from my intestines as she gave me another devastating left right combination. My mouth dropped open and noise came out. After the second combination, my body no longer felt like ice, maybe because I was starting to sweat. I could not clearly distinguish between the sharp pain on the skin of my lower belly and the horrible searing pain inside me. Now my belly was damp with perspiration and the sounds of her fists making contact with my flesh grew louder. She came in close to me and said something that I don't remember and drove an uppercut into me that felt like it came out the other side. I could feel my intestines being rearranged by her invading fist. The waves of pain teased me with unconsciousness. She whispered something else to me then devastated me with a huge punch angled downward at about 45 degrees. It began an inch above the bottom of the V and ended somewhere behind my pelvic bone. I imagine that last punch felt something akin to lying on top of a live grenade. I was destroyed by that punch, I lost all muscle control. It literally knocked the piss out of me. The following punch was similar but harder and very unsportsmanlike. The fact that it tore into me like a freight train and hurt worse than all the rest combined should also be mentioned. I also recall hearing something about it hurting her wrist.
I was in a hazy state between somewhere over the rainbow and lala land. But after my cold shower, I was most assuredly in a warehouse with the most horrible pain in my belly and a fear there was more to come. I screamed when the water hit me because it brought the pain into focus. Wave after wave of indescribable pain washed over me. I started to sob, then I started to throw up. That only made my belly hurt worse. After I was finished, they hosed me off again.
Gorilla picked me up again, but this time I was facing him. He stuck out his middle finger, it was as thick as a roll of quarters. He poked me hard in the belly button. My navel caved around his finger as it proceeded further into me. I swear he touched my spine. I screamed. I didn't think anything could hurt worse that Miss Bando's last couple of punches but this did. My feet were still tied but he wasn't standing on the sleeve anymore and my knees reflexively came up catching him square in the groin. I was horrified at what I had just done. How could I explain it was an accident. Even through the pain, my mind registered that was a big mistake. Gorilla didn't drop me, he was very briefly stunned but not like I had expected. He was however really pissed. He looked at me, stepped on the shirt sleeve and stabbed his finger into my belly button again. He was looking in my eyes when he did it this time, and I assume he was pleased by my reaction. I didn't scream this time, it was more of a huffing grunt. I didn't scream only because that took too much energy and I couldn't spare any right now. My insides flared up in a blaze of fire again. I felt like puking peeing and dying all at the same time.
Fortunately none of the above happened. Gorilla looked deep into my eyes again and drove his middle and fore finger really hard into the taper of my shorts. My guts sloshed as his fingers powered deep into my core. He did this several times, each harder and deeper than the last. My mind reeled and my body jerked in time with his thrusts. My eyes bulged and my mouth hung open but no sound could be heard, except that of my insides sloshing around. He moved up to my navel again and skewered me several more time there. Then he started prodding me in the solar plexus. All of my breath rushed out of my lungs with the very first poke. There were maybe half a dozen to follow that. I thought I was in the worst possible pain imaginable but then I had the air knocked out of me and I was corrected in my thinking. I couldn't breathe, my guts felt like they were boiling and now there was a sharp gripping pain in my chest and under my rib cage. I was like a rag doll in Gorillas grip. I was more or less conscious but I was completely limp. I tried to suck in small amounts of air but each progressive jab in the solar plexus made it an impossible task. Tears welled up in my eyes. Gorilla stopped momentarily to look at his handiwork. I thought he was finished, but he quickly palmed almost the entirety of my belly with his one huge hand and began to squeeze. I don't know how long that lasted because I passed out promptly.
I thought he was finished, but he quickly palmed almost the entirety of my belly with his one huge hand and began to squeeze. I don't know how long that lasted because I passed out promptly.
I was revived by another cold shower. I was breathing again which was a good thing, but my whole torso felt like a brick wall fell on it, which was a bad thing. I didn't want to think about what kind of damage had already been done, or even worse, what damage was still to come. I looked down at my belly. Strangely enough, it didn't look that bad. It didn't look nearly as bad as it felt. My lower belly was pretty red as was my belly button, it all seemed maybe a little swollen. Thinking about it made it hurt worse. Breathing hurt for that matter. Gorilla grabbed me again and held me up, he remembered to step on the shirt sleeve this time. I felt like crying but didn't have the energy.
Sly Jr. walked up to me and kissed me. Then he said something about it not being personal and how he usually doesn't hit women. Then he began to use my belly like a heavy bag. He was obviously a boxer. It was like an everyday workout for him but today he was pounding my belly and not a punching bag. I was winded in about the first minute of his routine. He slammed his fists into me with a methodical effort. Left right uppercut, jab jab hook, left left cross, left right left right. Most of the punches were between my belly button and my solar plexus. For about 2 minutes. The punches were all hard with fast. Some had more follow through than others and those really hurt. Its impossible to describe what its like to be as a punching bag for a competitive boxer, and to not be able to breath for most of it. the pain in my chest and under my ribs redoubled in intensity.
He let up and gave me time to catch my breath. That was thoughtful of him. Then he kissed me again and said its was just business. Yah, the business of disorganizing my insides. He proceeded to my belly button with the same pattern, but the intensity seemed be increased a little. He was beginning to work up a good sweat and was breathing hard. My navel and the surrounding area were completely devastated. Breathing was difficult, but not impossible. The volcano inside me had erupted again and I felt like the blood in my belly was free flowing lava. I suppose I was in shock. I could feel the pain very acutely and the sound of every punch landing on my wet flesh echoed in my ears. He stopped again for very brief time. My entire existence was a ball full of belly pain now. Sly Jr. Kissed me one more time and started in on my lower belly. Aiming for the V in my shorts. He was really working over that area. More so than the upper or middle. He wasn't as systematic, he was just throwing full power haymakers into my body. Each time he punched, his fist would get swallowed by the flesh of my belly. Almost to the wrist, each punch sank into my guts. The pain was beyond that now. His hammer like fists crashed through the pain barrier and I was experiencing something else, something much worse. I felt my intestines being crushed against my spine as he drove his fists into my innermost being. I began to sob uncontrollably. Where I found the energy or muscle control for such a feat I'll never know. I wish I hadn't though because It only made it hurt worse. He finally stopped tenderizing my insides and gave me one last kiss. My jaw was hanging open so he had to push my chin up with his fingers to manage it.
They hosed me down again, but this time let me lie on a heap on the floor. Gorilla didn't pick me up. Louis, whom I thought wasn't going to do any of his own dirty work, walked up to me. He said the only thing he hated worse than someone stealing from him was someone lying to him. And since I lied to him about not stealing his wallet, he was going to personally make me pay for that. He started to kick me in the belly. I was lying on my side when the toe of his wing tip introduced itself to my guts. He kicked me hard and low. The kicks exploded into me with tremendous force. At this point I started to understand the phrase "I'm going to kick the shit out of you." Although I didn't actually have the shit kicked out of me, I think that was just a matter of luck. The placement and force were defiantly sufficient if that was the desired result. I thought Miss Bando's low blows were bad but these kicks made them seem amateurish. I gagged and tried to puke but only dry heaved. I was flipped over on my back. I lay there rocking and sobbing curled up in the tightest ball I could manage for the brief time it took me to pass out.
News got around pretty fast about what had happened to me so everyone knew not to steal from Louis. I left Vegas for good'
If I knew what kind of story was going to follow I would have said something much more profound but then again, now that I think about it, if I knew what was going to follow I wouldn't have been able to speak at all.
"I'm lucky to be alive really, in more ways than one." Just as she was beginning her story our food arrived, my grease plate and her salad. As soon as the waitress left, she continued.
"I was working in Vegas as a showgirl about 4 years ago when this happened. Actually I wasn't working as a showgirl anymore and that is why this happened. I had a bit of a coke problem back then. One day the choreographer for the show I was working on found out about it he told the director and I was fired. I didn't have a lot of money and had to find a job fast. I interviewed at one of the casinos and was hired on as a hostess. It was a pretty big step down in stature not to mention pay from my previous job, but it was work. My uniform was high-heels with black fishnet stockings, very short tight black leather shorts, a white tuxedo shirt with a black cumber bun and a bow tie. I was a little thinner then than I am now because of the coke and my legs were a bit fitter from all the dancing, so I looked pretty hot in that outfit. Anyway, like I said, the job didn't pay too well and coke is pretty expensive. What I thought to be a nice opportunity to supplement my income presented itself one day. I was walking a very drunk gambler to the door one evening when I noticed his wallet was enticingly easy to steal, so that's just what I did. He didn't notice it and left the casino. I stashed it in my locker and thought I was safe. I would just take it home with me when my shift was over. That was a huge mistake.
About 4 hours later I see the gambler talking to the pit boss. Then I see both of them go up stairs to the managers office. About 5 minutes later one of the casino security guys grabs my elbow and says the manager wants to se me. There was no sense in denying it because the wallet was in my locker but I tried to anyway. VERY STUPID. As it turns out that gambler was Louis Carpachi, who as I later learned was third in command of the largest mob outfit in Nevada. After denying what I did, they produced the wallet and said they found it in my locker. I knew I was in big trouble. Pissed off is a phrase that does not do justice to Louis's state of being. He was absolutely irate. The way only an immensely powerful and very short, fat man can be. Louis told the manager that I was fired and I was going with him. The manager then relayed the message to me, and I very quickly found myself jobless in the back of a very expensive automobile seated between two very threatening looking people. One was a particularly striking looking woman and the other was a particularly frightening looking gorilla. They are of course both bodyguards for Louis. The woman, as it turns out, is a Bando expert. She takes great pleasure in telling me all about her qualifications later on but I don't remember much of it except its some kind of martial art that specializes in breaking bones. The gorilla is just that. There is nothing special about him except that he had huge hands and he didn't speak at all that I remember. Very soon we are pulling into a warehouse.
Very soon we are pulling into a warehouse. This is not a good sign I'm thinking. And I was right. At the ware house were two more people. One looked a bit like Bruce lee and the other like Sylvester Stalone's ugly little brother. We get out of the car, Why Louis was driving his own car Ill never know. The warehouse is not exactly that on the inside. Its pretty well furnished. I bit like seeing a beat up old house boat from the outside and finding a fairly luxurious living space on the inside. We go over and sit on some couches and Louis offers me a drink. I decline but he insists, saying "your gonna want it." So I take it. We do some blow too which I had not expected at all. It was top-notch stuff, nothing I could have afforded. Apparently in Louis's line of work it was customary to be as hospitable as possible in any business situation, no matter how ugly the business was. And this was considered business. Not exactly the business of revenge but the business of reputation.
You see, I didn't know it, but I had damaged his reputation by stealing his wallet. Now it was his business to protect his reputation. After a couple more drinks we got down to business. Louis said to me, "since you stole my wallet and have damaged my reputation at that particular casino, you must pay the price. My wallet was returned so that part is square but the part of the reputation needs to be addressed, and it will most assuredly hurt. After saying this, he produces what resembled a twister spinner. He said since he was a gambling man and the incident occurred in a casino he would let chance choose my punishment. On the improvised roulette board was written various anatomy parts and one space labeled players choice. It read something like this. Toes, ankles, knees, legs, players choice, guts, ribs, arms, elbows, fingers, face. They asked me if I needed any explanation. I did not. It was very clear something of mine was about to get broken. That was the usual mob punishment for something like this. The mood in the room changed dramatically at this point. I was terrified and everyone else was alive with anticipation. I was commanded to spin the wheel.
Reluctantly I did so, fearing worse things would happen if I refused. Around and around it went. I was praying it didn't land on toes, ankles, knees, or legs since I was a dancer and hoped to be one again. It began to slow down, creeping along over fingers and face, even slower over toes and ankles. O god not my legs I was pleading. Slowly it crawled over knees, I was sure it would stop on legs as it began to loose all momentum. It began to stop near the far side of legs and tears welled up in my eyes. It slowed to a near halt a few centimeters from the edge of legs when gravity rescued my dancing career. By mere design of the board and the weight of the needle, gravity was able to pull it just a hairs width over the line to players choice. The Bando expert was not happy about it and argued the point, but eventually it was decided it was players choice. Apparently she liked breaking legs, it was good practice for her. I was relieved only momentarily until I actually began tumbling over the options in my head. It is a really hard decision picking something to get broken. I knew guts was on the board but never gave it much attention till now. After weighing my options I realized, all of my choices were breakable bones except guts. I debated this in my mind for as long as they would allow until they demanded a choice. I had pretty much decided on arms, figuring that wasn't a joint and a few months in a cast would heal me up pretty well. I had broken an arm falling out of a tree as a child and figured it was the lesser of the evils. However in the back of my mind I was still debating guts. When I was pressed for an answer I wanted to say arms but for some reason unknown to my conscious mind I said guts.
Her story had me absolutely captivated. I hadn't touched my grease plate and she hadn't touched her salad the whole time. I was completely horrified by her tale but for obvious reasons I was also mesmerized. She seemed completely entranced in the telling of the story as well. For you see it was the first time she had told anyone about it since it happened. It was her 'deep dark secrete' and she was finally liberating herself of it. I could tell she was glad to finally be telling someone about her misadventure. I wanted to say something helpful or reassuring but couldn't think of anything more comforting or intelligent than "hold that thought, I gotta go to the bathroom." So off I went. When I returned, less all my deionized, heat pasteurized, liver filterized cervesas, she was gone! No where to be seen. The bill was on the table, her coat and purse and gloves were gone. I was astonished. I asked the waitress where she went, and the reply was "she left!"
I'm just kidding I wouldn't do that to you
There she was just where I left her. She was deep in thought with her hand under her sweater absently rubbing her fabulously tanned belly. I slid into the seat next to her and placed my hand on top of hers under her sweater. She gave a cute little giggle and said "that feels good" then she placed my hand on the warm flesh just below her navel and placed her hand on top of mine. She pressed in gently and closed her eyes with a sigh. She then took a deep breath, pressing her lower belly firmly into my palm. That moment was fabulous, the sensuousness of her was intoxicating. Just then she looked into my eyes and said, "I don't know why but I chose guts" Just then I felt a tremor run through her body and she instinctively flexed as she remembered the incident. I removed my hand and took a sip of my cold coffee indicating for her to continue the story.
After I gave my answer, several things happened at once. Miss Bando swore out loud, Sly jr. cracked his knuckles, Bruce lee started shadow boxing and Gorilla grabbed me and jerked me out of the couch. He grabbed both of my wrists in one of his huge hands and then held them above my head. Bando ripped my shirt and cumber bun off of me, exposing my black lace bra, and tied my ankles together with it. I lifted my knees and jerked in desperation. Gorilla had no difficulty supporting my weight with his one arm. After a few moments of struggling I realized it was useless. I put my feet back on the floor. Gorilla then stepped on one of the dangling shirt sleeves to prevent me from raising my knees again. Louis took a seat in one of the couches to watch. He was of course not going to do any of the dirty work himself.
Gorilla had no difficulty supporting my weight with his one arm. After a few moments of struggling I realized it was useless. I put my feet back on the floor. Gorilla then stepped on one of the dangling shirt sleeves to prevent me from raising my knees again. Louis took a seat in one of the couches to watch. He was of course not going to do any of the dirty work himself.
It was Bruce who hit me first. He was not a really big guy but he was strong as hell and really fast. He was a trained fighter obviously. "An interesting choice he said, I would have chosen arms if I were you. It hurts less and doesn't last as long. "I was going to " I started to reply "but for some reashhhhoooouu. I never got to finish my sentence because he drilled me hard in the belly. I wasn't tensed up and his fist buried into my belly button. The punch made me jerk and pushed me back a bit. I felt my butt slam into Gorillas thigh. He didn't budge. Reflexively I tried to lift my knees but couldn't, they were trapped. In doing so I only tightened the knot around my ankles. Now Bruce was dancing in front of me, he landed a number of quick jabs into my exposed belly button. I tensed as well as I could but it didn't really help at all. His punches were sharp and quick. They all sank in deep. Huuunnngh, uuulllghh, huuuufff. My belly erupted in searing pain. His jabs hurt bad, on the surface and on the inside. When I did manage to flex a bit, it just made it hurt more on the surface and less on the inside. When I didn't flex at all it hurt less on the surface and more on the inside. Bruce peppered me with jabs. He was huffing with each punch and I was making some indescribable noises with each punch. I had been punched in the stomach a couple times in high school, but it didn't compare to this. Bruce seemed to really be enjoying this. He told me he was going to be careful not to knock the air out of me because he wanted it to last longer. I was terrified by that. How long would this last.
I had about half a second to consider it before his fist melted into my bellybutton. "HUUUNOFUUUUU" He was small, but this bastard felt like he could punch through a brick wall. And maybe he could for all I know. I had never been in this kind of pain before, and the terror of my helplessness intensified it. I closed my eyes tight. If I couldn't see him, maybe he would go away. No luck. He started punching me hard and fast right in the belly button. Maybe 10 or 20 or 50 times. It all felt like one long punch to me. Almost before he removed one fist, the other was half way inside me. His fists were small and bony and hurt like shit. He stopped after a while. I was dazed and found breathing rather difficult. Tears rolled down my cheeks. My belly was churning and I felt more than a little nauseous.
Miss Bando slapped me to make sure she had my full attention. This is where she told me all about her training history and expertise. I don't remember much of it. She was punctuation every couple of sentences with a gut crushing punch. And she was quite deliberate in going for my "guts." The tight leather shorts I was wearing tapered to a V in the front, and the bottom of the V rested just at my pubic bone. The V in my shorts was her target and she never missed. I remember her telling me that between punches one time. I was just starting to breath normally again when she punctuated me with her first punch. I remember screaming something like "OMYGODTHATHURTS" And it did, it hurt like crap. Different than Bruce's punches which all landed a bit higher. This was a deeper, duller more profound kind of pain. It felt like a volcano erupting inside me. She punched me again, harder this time. I heard the sound of her bony fist slapping against my bare flesh just before I felt the explosion inside me.
UUGGGHOLYSHT. I couldn't believe how bad this woman was hurting me. She had only punched me twice so far and the memory of Bruce's punches was like a G-rated movie in comparison. I thought for sure I couldn't survive anymore of this. She punched me again, even harder. My muscles were not responding to the nerve impulses I was sending trying to get them to tighten up. Her fist drove deep inside me, slamming me into Gorilla again. She dislodged her fist just long enough to replace it with her other. My body turned to ice. The pain was coursing hot through my insides, but the rest of me was icy cold. My guts were churning. I heard some not to reassuring sounds coming from my intestines as she gave me another devastating left right combination. My mouth dropped open and noise came out. After the second combination, my body no longer felt like ice, maybe because I was starting to sweat. I could not clearly distinguish between the sharp pain on the skin of my lower belly and the horrible searing pain inside me. Now my belly was damp with perspiration and the sounds of her fists making contact with my flesh grew louder. She came in close to me and said something that I don't remember and drove an uppercut into me that felt like it came out the other side. I could feel my intestines being rearranged by her invading fist. The waves of pain teased me with unconsciousness. She whispered something else to me then devastated me with a huge punch angled downward at about 45 degrees. It began an inch above the bottom of the V and ended somewhere behind my pelvic bone. I imagine that last punch felt something akin to lying on top of a live grenade. I was destroyed by that punch, I lost all muscle control. It literally knocked the piss out of me. The following punch was similar but harder and very unsportsmanlike. The fact that it tore into me like a freight train and hurt worse than all the rest combined should also be mentioned. I also recall hearing something about it hurting her wrist.
I was in a hazy state between somewhere over the rainbow and lala land. But after my cold shower, I was most assuredly in a warehouse with the most horrible pain in my belly and a fear there was more to come. I screamed when the water hit me because it brought the pain into focus. Wave after wave of indescribable pain washed over me. I started to sob, then I started to throw up. That only made my belly hurt worse. After I was finished, they hosed me off again.
Gorilla picked me up again, but this time I was facing him. He stuck out his middle finger, it was as thick as a roll of quarters. He poked me hard in the belly button. My navel caved around his finger as it proceeded further into me. I swear he touched my spine. I screamed. I didn't think anything could hurt worse that Miss Bando's last couple of punches but this did. My feet were still tied but he wasn't standing on the sleeve anymore and my knees reflexively came up catching him square in the groin. I was horrified at what I had just done. How could I explain it was an accident. Even through the pain, my mind registered that was a big mistake. Gorilla didn't drop me, he was very briefly stunned but not like I had expected. He was however really pissed. He looked at me, stepped on the shirt sleeve and stabbed his finger into my belly button again. He was looking in my eyes when he did it this time, and I assume he was pleased by my reaction. I didn't scream this time, it was more of a huffing grunt. I didn't scream only because that took too much energy and I couldn't spare any right now. My insides flared up in a blaze of fire again. I felt like puking peeing and dying all at the same time.
Fortunately none of the above happened. Gorilla looked deep into my eyes again and drove his middle and fore finger really hard into the taper of my shorts. My guts sloshed as his fingers powered deep into my core. He did this several times, each harder and deeper than the last. My mind reeled and my body jerked in time with his thrusts. My eyes bulged and my mouth hung open but no sound could be heard, except that of my insides sloshing around. He moved up to my navel again and skewered me several more time there. Then he started prodding me in the solar plexus. All of my breath rushed out of my lungs with the very first poke. There were maybe half a dozen to follow that. I thought I was in the worst possible pain imaginable but then I had the air knocked out of me and I was corrected in my thinking. I couldn't breathe, my guts felt like they were boiling and now there was a sharp gripping pain in my chest and under my rib cage. I was like a rag doll in Gorillas grip. I was more or less conscious but I was completely limp. I tried to suck in small amounts of air but each progressive jab in the solar plexus made it an impossible task. Tears welled up in my eyes. Gorilla stopped momentarily to look at his handiwork. I thought he was finished, but he quickly palmed almost the entirety of my belly with his one huge hand and began to squeeze. I don't know how long that lasted because I passed out promptly.
I thought he was finished, but he quickly palmed almost the entirety of my belly with his one huge hand and began to squeeze. I don't know how long that lasted because I passed out promptly.
I was revived by another cold shower. I was breathing again which was a good thing, but my whole torso felt like a brick wall fell on it, which was a bad thing. I didn't want to think about what kind of damage had already been done, or even worse, what damage was still to come. I looked down at my belly. Strangely enough, it didn't look that bad. It didn't look nearly as bad as it felt. My lower belly was pretty red as was my belly button, it all seemed maybe a little swollen. Thinking about it made it hurt worse. Breathing hurt for that matter. Gorilla grabbed me again and held me up, he remembered to step on the shirt sleeve this time. I felt like crying but didn't have the energy.
Sly Jr. walked up to me and kissed me. Then he said something about it not being personal and how he usually doesn't hit women. Then he began to use my belly like a heavy bag. He was obviously a boxer. It was like an everyday workout for him but today he was pounding my belly and not a punching bag. I was winded in about the first minute of his routine. He slammed his fists into me with a methodical effort. Left right uppercut, jab jab hook, left left cross, left right left right. Most of the punches were between my belly button and my solar plexus. For about 2 minutes. The punches were all hard with fast. Some had more follow through than others and those really hurt. Its impossible to describe what its like to be as a punching bag for a competitive boxer, and to not be able to breath for most of it. the pain in my chest and under my ribs redoubled in intensity.
He let up and gave me time to catch my breath. That was thoughtful of him. Then he kissed me again and said its was just business. Yah, the business of disorganizing my insides. He proceeded to my belly button with the same pattern, but the intensity seemed be increased a little. He was beginning to work up a good sweat and was breathing hard. My navel and the surrounding area were completely devastated. Breathing was difficult, but not impossible. The volcano inside me had erupted again and I felt like the blood in my belly was free flowing lava. I suppose I was in shock. I could feel the pain very acutely and the sound of every punch landing on my wet flesh echoed in my ears. He stopped again for very brief time. My entire existence was a ball full of belly pain now. Sly Jr. Kissed me one more time and started in on my lower belly. Aiming for the V in my shorts. He was really working over that area. More so than the upper or middle. He wasn't as systematic, he was just throwing full power haymakers into my body. Each time he punched, his fist would get swallowed by the flesh of my belly. Almost to the wrist, each punch sank into my guts. The pain was beyond that now. His hammer like fists crashed through the pain barrier and I was experiencing something else, something much worse. I felt my intestines being crushed against my spine as he drove his fists into my innermost being. I began to sob uncontrollably. Where I found the energy or muscle control for such a feat I'll never know. I wish I hadn't though because It only made it hurt worse. He finally stopped tenderizing my insides and gave me one last kiss. My jaw was hanging open so he had to push my chin up with his fingers to manage it.
They hosed me down again, but this time let me lie on a heap on the floor. Gorilla didn't pick me up. Louis, whom I thought wasn't going to do any of his own dirty work, walked up to me. He said the only thing he hated worse than someone stealing from him was someone lying to him. And since I lied to him about not stealing his wallet, he was going to personally make me pay for that. He started to kick me in the belly. I was lying on my side when the toe of his wing tip introduced itself to my guts. He kicked me hard and low. The kicks exploded into me with tremendous force. At this point I started to understand the phrase "I'm going to kick the shit out of you." Although I didn't actually have the shit kicked out of me, I think that was just a matter of luck. The placement and force were defiantly sufficient if that was the desired result. I thought Miss Bando's low blows were bad but these kicks made them seem amateurish. I gagged and tried to puke but only dry heaved. I was flipped over on my back. I lay there rocking and sobbing curled up in the tightest ball I could manage for the brief time it took me to pass out.
News got around pretty fast about what had happened to me so everyone knew not to steal from Louis. I left Vegas for good'