And I'm not just talking about a few biffs to the stomach in the course of a back-and-forth fight. I'm imagining the legendary bellybeating. The ultimate male humiliation. The thing a weak boy like me dreaded. A string of punches in my belly that went on so long, so sadistically, that the point was made in the minds of everyone watching, that here was this man being helplessly fucked by this other man, by the fist that vioilates his belly over and over and which he is too weak and soft to refuse. That makes him bleat like a sheep.
And god forbid SHE should see you like that. See that happen to you. See you get a bellybeating. She'll never forget it. You'll be zero to her. "A boy who can't even protect his own belly; how's he ever going to protect me?"
"I don't think I'll ever look at your bare belly again and not see his fist stuffed into it. I'm sorry, that's just set for life. You and that belly. You going OOF! OOF! OOF! Over and over. How can any woman take you seriously
"So I got beat up. Lots of guys ..."
"It wasn't what he did to you, dear. It's how he did it. Pow, pow, pow, five, six in a row. Punches. Right in your belly. And obviously you were winded and gone from the first one, but he kept punching you, driving home his point like a battering ram into your already soft and beaten belly. A point made not to you, but to the world, to his real rivals, to anyone watching, as testimony of his brute power and merciless cruelty."