stomachache's blog

(This is the second-to-last installment of Break-In. Some characters might be re-occuring, but I think it's time to give Hector and Jonas a break from their no-doubt life-changing trauma. Might get into some darker elements in future stories, but for now, it's about time to wrap it up. Contains similar things as Part 3.)

The door opened to let in the woman from before, minus her attendee. Hector tried to run past her to no avail, only to earn two fingers in the gut near his belly button, touching the intestines under his abs. He screamed and gasped before collapsing, then being kicked a few feet back into the center of the room. The woman took off her trenchcoat, revealing some sort of skin-tight exosuit. Compared to him, she was tall, muscular, and commanding.

"It's play time. Put your arms and legs in the cuffs at the back wall over there."

Hector, already favoring his gut, looked up at her standing before him. "Make me."

"I am." She kicked him in the gut, then pressed down with her boot still embedded in him, pushing his intestines into his pelvis.

"AGH! Shit!" He knew it would be best to comply with her directions for the moment, but had too much pride to let her order him around. He thought of Jonas, how distraught he must've been without him, then swallowed his pride, and probably the contents of his stomach, and tapped her leg to let up so he could do as she asked. He backed up and stretched painfully into position before the cuffs closed around him. The door shut, leaving them both alone in the room.

She approached him, face to face, then started running her hands all over his stomach. "Let me guess. You don't know how you keep your figure, you just eat lots of greens, avoid fast food, and do the occasional sit-up, don't you?"

He was silent, trying not to enjoy her hands on his shirtless torso. Another quick prod into one of his organs changed his tune. "Yes."

"Figures." She began punching his abs, rhythmically and with moderate strength, forcing him to consistently flex. He wasn't an athlete by any means, but he had abdominal definition, certainly more than Jonas, and could hold out for a short while under her assault. He struggled to breathe while he was flexing, especially when he had to inhale and his belly inflated, pushing in a bit each time she punched him, much to her enjoyment.

She let up only in short intervals, only to continue right away, for the same amount of time, waiting until he was almost out of breath, then giving him just too little time to catch it before resuming. As well as eroding his slight abs, she was slowly suffocating him, leaving him unable to continue flexing for much longer without passing out. He was forced to choose between air and his only defense against her right hand.

By the time she was done, he was sweating, gasping for air, his whole belly raw from the gradual onslaught, filling and emptying for air. He was completely at her mercy, and right when it would be time to begin another barrage, she punched him hard directly in the belly button, pushing effortless past his abdomen.

"OUGH!" Spit shot out of his mouth, spraying her in the chest, resulting in a deeper, anger-fueled push into his abdominal cavity. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Of course, he had been in fights throughout his childhood, usually defending himself, and had taken more than his fair share of hits, but this was another league, falling somewhere between punching and stabbing. The literal bowels of his soul were within range of her grasp, his insides either making way for her, or crushed by her wrath.

She didn't remove the fist until his eyes started to roll back into his head, at which point she withdrew it immediately, snapping him awake as his guts returned to their original positions with an audible squelch. He was breathing in and out massive waves of air, trying to fill back up the compressed spaces of his gullet, which hurt tremendously.

He felt something climbing up his throat, and knew his stomach couldn't take the close contact it had received, but didn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him spew. He closed his mouth and his cheeks filled up, spraying a little bit out of his puckered lips, and two gulps later, it was going back down. His stomach continued to convulsed and contract, and he had to repeat the process a few times before it finally conceded. She watched with bewilderment.

"That's a lesson you learned a long time ago, isn't it? That real strength has nothing to do with the body, but the soul."

"Fuck... you." Hector's speech was slurred, and the oxygen deprivation and bodily trauma were taking their toll. If she did this every day, then he wouldn't be able to escape at all.

"Poor thing." She touched his stomach, earning a wince, and brought her tongue to his belly button. He squirmed to try to throw off her position, but opted not to bother with what little energy he had. As she licked, they both heard a far-off explosion. Her eyebrow twitched. "Don't go anywhere."

The door wouldn't open automatically, so she pulled a cell phone out of her trenchcoat pocket on the floor. A few button presses did the job, and she left, leaving it open behind her. With what little strength he had, Hector strained against the cuffs, to no avail. He hoped, almost prayed, that the door wouldn't close, and that whatever the source of the explosion was, that it was there to rescue him.

A few relatively loud gunshots seemed to come from the outside, which looked like a prison, but wearing and tearing in various places. All of the doors he could see in the block looked rusted and ajar, nothing like the door in his own cell. After a minute, someone in full-body military gear appeared at the door, briefly pointing a high-powered rifle at Hector's shirtless body before quickly lowering it. He yelled something to the side, and a few others joined him. His accent was difficult to make out, but he spoke English.

"It will be okay. We are hear to save you."

Hector sighed and smiled before letting himself pass out, bruised and sweaty in front of the fully-clad soldiers.