Boxing Tool

Round 4

Ben fell hard into his corner, unable to truly support himself anymore. The beatings, as it was clear this was no longer a boxing match, from the previous rounds had caught up with him, and not even the recovery power of his youth could help him now. His head had been humbled from the long and steady series of attacks, leaving it a very different sight. Ben was almost sure his nose was dislocated and his eyes were swollen. His vision was compromised, blurry at best and completely off at worse. Everything around him hurt to look at.

His head was done, and the fight should have been called... but it wasn't.

Ben's chest was beaten flat, tenderized to the max, and burned like nothing he felt before. He tried to touch it with his own glove, but even that hurt. He had worked so long and hard to build up muscle there, and now it seemed like it was nothing. So many wasted hours, so many wasted sacrifices to better himself. While he was older and put more time in the gym, he was not longer able to flex the muscle there, not like Henry.

Henry was just better...

Ben's head fell back, desperately gasping for air and recovery that would never come. His corner worker did his best to clean him up, but not much else. No more water, no nice massage to ease his burning muscles, nothing. Ben sighed, this would be the round he lost, the round he went down, was counted out and would lose all the money he was promised. If only he could have lasted a few more rounds!

Ben closed his eyes, only planning for a moment, to try and rest...

"Ugggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

In the blink of an eye, everything changed. In a single breath, the scene shifted from desperately trying to recover in one's own corner, to another beating, even more vicious than the last. The blow had come quick and rather painfully, forcing Ben to double over and stumble back. Without mercy, without feeling or granting quarter, Henry had come at him screaming with power. He was no longer just the young Lord of Featherstone; he was the lord of this ring as well. Ben tried to keep up, even managing to block a few blows before leather met his core. What little ab muscle he had there protected from the hit, but could not completely block it. He felt the force vibrate up and down, making him want to throw up. One arm went around the ropes, to keep him up, and Ben quickly wondered what the hell had just happened.

Henry took to his corner, unable to sit, unable to stand still, and just shook. The fight had hit all the right buttons, and his body responded in kind. Even the gentle sexual touch of his maid could not distract him from the next round. He had tasted blood; he had touched and conquered Ben's body and he wanted more. Even beaten as he was, Henry still wanted to lick Ben's nipple, fondle his chest and feel the wonderful core that just was beginning to show a four pack. His vision was fixed on Ben, everything that mattered now, was Ben and his body. The bell rang and he burst out with power and rage, so much so even surprising his assistant, who had to rush to get out of his way.

A strong showing of hooks and jabs came from the prized fighter, focusing on keeping Ben dizzy and under Henry's control. He flexed every muscle in his body as he did so, showing off to all present, even his father, just who was in charge. Much to Henry's surprise and delight, Ben held his guard. "Good" Henry thought, "Still have some fight in you". Henry quickly explored Ben's guard with a number of jabs and hooks, all light and quick. Had Henry willed it, he could have easily broken Ben's upper guard, but why end it so quick? The round had just started! Faking a hard left, he suddenly went down and plowed a mean jab into Ben's stomach. It was a strong, clean hit, that met no resistance. "someone has a soft core" Henry thought, "time to have some fun!" As expected, Ben grunted (which sounded like heaven to Henry) and doubled over. Ben's arm went over the ropes to keep himself up, an invitation Henry could not resist. Coming in close, repeated uppercuts struck Ben's unprotected stomach, each one producing a loud and intoxicating grunt or moan of pain. Each hit shook Ben hard and nearly lifted him off his feet.