"Right in his Belly!"


Sunday, August 21, 2022

PROFESSOR BELLYPUNCH





The lust inhabited her, paced like a puma in a cage. Waking. sleeping, it glowed under her smooth surface like a hot nerve. It throbbed and hummed as her life followed a bland course. She skimmed over that life, but that was not where her soul lived. It dwelt alone in the opera in her head until once, in a lifetime, a dream came true. Or, you may say, a will and a lust as strong as hers forces the stars from their orbits to align in front of her astonished eyes.

***

He stood in shadow by the window and watched the hip-swing of her walk, down the straight paved way across the commons, from the offices to the dorms. "No one cares if I stare," he thought.

The college no longer denied its bad reputation for shameless wicca-ism and open pagan rituals. It had shed its "women only" status, but the staff and students were overpoweringly women. For a male professor such as himself, there were some advantages. And many perils.

She was coming up the stairs. He could hear the tap of her heels. To the few men on the faculty, privately, in hushed tones, they were "the belly-button girls." The students who came on campus dressed in the then-fashionable street outfit of a belly-baring top and low-waist jeans or a hip-skirt. The name applied especially to any one of what the male profs had recognized as an alluring elite among the students: Angelique and Lin, and Laura and a few others. Always tasteful, elegant, aloof, and -- whatever outfit they chose -- they always went stylishly bare-bellied.

He'd known it was Laura a long way off, by her stride. Laura was the only one among the belly-button girls who worried him; she was the only belly-girl who took advanced courses in his discipline, and who thus, just maybe, might end up in one of his classes.

And here she was, not only in his class but right across his desk from him, in his faculty office, at the end of an autumn Tuesday afternoon.

He had known this job had a great risk of temptation. He told himself he could handle it. He never expected something this precise, this rapid.

She's wearing a short, tight, long-sleeved dark purple top and hip-slung low-waist jeans. She's saying she wants to do an independent study under him. The top stops just above her navel. He feels like he's hearing her voice from under water.

Somehow he gets through the discussion of her idea (he remembers to be non-committal) without babbling. He fears he has blushed. He forces his eyes on her eyes, to keep them off her center.

At last Laura rose to leave his office. He hurried to his feet. His hands fidgeted in front of him. She watched him with a smile.

She half turned for the door and he resumed his seat. Then she swung a hip around and faced him again. "Oh, Professor Douglass," she said.

She leaned her hips forward against his desk, a staring belly-button. Laura's navel bored a gaze straight into him. Professor Douglass seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. He shook himself into awareness and broke the stare. "Yes?" he gasped.

"I can't thank you enough, professor, for taking my poem with you to the editors' meeting. I meant to submit it, but I've been so ... distracted ...."

His soul has been sucked and he knows it. He is lost. Captivated. Integrity drowned, personality smashed; all the walls he built to shield himself from punishment swept away in the flood.  He found his voice, if not his breath, and there was just enough wind left in him to say: "No, Laura, I'd be happy to take it for you."

***

Only a couple of hours later, in the twilight, Professor Douglass catches sight of Laura across the south commons, going up the steps and into the mock-Greek temple that disguised the common gymnasium.

On a whim, as he told himself, he followed her in. But he saw no sign of Laura in his first sweep of the room, so he had no choice but to act like he belonged there.

The old panic began to tighten in him: What if someone should ask him what he was doing in the gym. He couldn't admit he had casually stalked one of his students.

So he stripped off his top, threw it in an open locker, draped a towel over one shoulder, and strode into the gym, trying to walk like the other men.

He saw Laura, and he veered toward her, but then pulls up short. She is on the floor at the edge of a fighting ring. Inside its painted circle, fit male students were sparring and jabbing. The professor realizes he's wearing just his jeans. He looks down. His pot-belly is clearly visible. Just as he's about to turn and slink away, she hurries up to him. The boys' eyes follow her as she runs. "Hi, Professor Douglass!"

"Oh, Laura! I didn't expect to see ..., that is ..." Her eyes sweep over him and he can almost feel the intensity. There's no point in sucking it in now. He starts to apologize: "My belly ..."

"... is so beautiful!" she finishes, her eyes aglow, and then she laughs and runs back to the ring, calling, "come with me!"

The shortest, tightest, most weasel-faced college boy in the ring turns to greet her. The others back away, respectful.

Professor Douglass approaches, shyly. The college boy leans down to Laura and hisses, "Who's that?"

Professor Douglass joins them. "Professor Douglass, this is Jeff," she says, formally. He bows slightly toward the younger, fitter man. "And, Jeff, this is ..."

But Jeff interrupts: "Yeah, I know what this is." Then, to the older man, "Hey, prof. Care to go a few rounds?"

The professor felt his stomach sink. He didn't dare say no. Not in front of that boy and his crew. Not in front of those angelic girls.

Laura intervened on his behalf -- catastrophically. She stepped between the men and told Jeff, "It's not fair; he never fought bare-knuckled. You'll ruin his face and he has to teach classes."

But Jeff's grin never flickered. He didn't even look at her; his eye was fixed on the professor's pot-belly. "Don't worry: We'll make it a no-face-punches fight. Right, prof?"

Professor Douglass pushed out his chest and replied, "Of course! I accept."

The trap was sprung. Without thinking, without understanding what Jeff was trapping him into by this challenge, he had run right into it.

The professor's eyes dropped and he stared down at his pampered belly. "I'm not quite in shape, of course, but I can still teach you a thing or two!" And he held up two equally unimpressive forearms and fists.

College boy says: "Great! Let's do it. Laura, you can ref. Best view in the house."

Angelique and Lin, along with Laura and a few others. Whatever outfit they chose, stylishly bare-bellied. Constantly commenting on and complimenting each other's fashion choices.

That half of the gym drifted over to watch. Some faces curious, some excited. Oh, it goes without saying that the professor is going to get his pot-belly beat up. They all know that. But they crowd close to see just how Jeff is going to give it to him.

The professor, who fancies himself the intellectual superior of any of the people around him, is perhaps the only person in the room who doesn't know what's going to happen to him next.

In the ring, the males stare at each other, faces grim, fists clenched. The poor professor's attempts to be chesty only make his belly stick out more.

Laura signals the start of the fight. Jeff lunges and pounds four precisely placed punches into the professor's tender, wide-open belly.

To be more precise, since it happened so quick, and to give you the finer points only: Jeff ducked his shoulder and planted a left straight in the professor's pot-belly.

The hollow "thud" of the punch in his gut was a sound sweet as passion to Laura. So was the sound of the "OOF!" from his mouth right after his belly got socked.

Rude boy followed that cruel assault with an uppercut right in the belly! It took what wind his belly still had, And forced poor professor upright, and exposed his stomach to a cannonball punch straight into his helpless pot-belly. Followed by a right-fist stomach-punch slug to the same spot -- the pit of the belly.

Each one rocked him and winded him, and at the end of the stomach-barrage, he staggered, fell back, flailed, rolled, thrashed, clutched his belly, gasped, and groaned.

Laura looked down at him, at her feet, lost in his own little bellypunch world, this weak man who had never known pain and humiliation, and who just got hit with an overdose of both, all at once.

And she froze and melted all at the same time. Her muscles clenched and she couldn't look away from him.

She knew Jeff was doing this -- beating this helpless man's soft belly -- to show off for her. It pleased her in ways he could never knew. And the poor professor was just going to have to get his stomach punched mercilessly, for her sake.

College boy wades through the girls and hauls the bellypunched professor up to his feet. "Come on, I'm not done with you, wimp!" he snarls.

The Professor keeps his feet, but wobbles. Jeff is just toying with his suffering rival now. He raises a fist and menaces the professor's face, as if forgetting the rule. The professor's hands reflexively fly up to shield his face. That leaves his belly wide open and Jeff just swings the other arm around and plunks him in the stomach.

The most basic mistake. Jeff is making a fool of him, unmanning him. Doubled over and gasping and moaning again, all the professor's smarts can't help him draw a breath. Jeff shakes him back upright, Jeff raises his fists and says, "The trouble with you, prof, is you've got a big head ..."

Jeff pops a jab that hit him on the chin. Professor Douglass looks straight up.

"... and a SOFT BELLY!"

And his punch socks Professor Douglass straight in the stomach. The shock wave shudders his whole body, and he blurts out:

"OOUFF!"

The professor bends and hunches over, gripping his stomach. College boy Jeff stands over him, hands on hips. The others group close around. Everyone is looking down at the belly-punch victim. Lin says, in mock sympathy, "Ooooh, right in the belly!"

No one moves to help him.

"Wow, he's aching!" Lin said.

"She'll never look twice at him again," Angelique said. "Not after seeing him get belly-whomped like that."

Lin laughed. "Every time he calls her name, that's what she'll see. Him like this."

With his belly skewered by another man's fist. Or bent over and crying because he got winded.

Angelique sneered, "What a belly-wimp," and everyone laughed.

***

It was a favorite topic of the dorms for the rest of the semester. The female staff kept me updated.  The writing prof told me she had assigned as her topic one day "Punching Professor Bellywimp" and the girls handed in stacks of stories, poems, plays, and even songs, all in some way celebrating or mourning, or describing, his belly-beating at Jeff's hands. She assured him the details of the punch-out were well and correctly known to nearly all the girls. And to prove her own fitness to judge, she recited them herself, correctly, with a great deal of descriptive force.

The arts professor told him separately that she lately had assigned, as the day's inspiration, the same scene. And she showed him various drawings and illustrations her students had produced. The women seemed to find the whole situation amusing and tempting.

The talk faded in time, but one thing didn't: The nickname he'd gotten that night: Bellywimp. Professor Bellywimp. That's what many students called him. The new ones heard it and were told the details. So it became his name.

5 comments:

  1. Nothing like luring a horny fat man to a humiliating defeat in the ring.

    If I was Laura, I probably would have baked him some shortbread cookies before bringing him to the gym. That way I could watch as he spews them out all over the ring after getting punched in the gut.

    But then again I probably also would have given him a blowjob after to soothe his injured pride

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    1. Anonymous . your a female that loves to see a guy get his belly punched .my kind of woman ...got beat up in front of my girlfriend ,all punches in the belly .she told me she got wet watching the guys fist sink into my belly - .she did give me a sympathy blowjob after but she said it was to smooth my bellyache from all the punches

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  2. That Was Fantastic ....The Girls Loved To See His Belly Get It .He Even Fell At Laura's Feet ..Aching Belly And All

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  3. Great Story .Love To Red More From You ...Your Comments Are Great

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