Boxing Tool

Thrown Out

This boxing match had become the most erotically charged moment of Henry's life. The young lord of Featherstone manor could feel a warmth emanating from the powerful erection he was now sporting inside his boxing shorts as he waited one more time in his neutral corner for Ben to be propped up again so that the fight could continue.

Henry looked at his pitiful opponent. The man across from him had been completely subdued and had even relinquished all desire to oppose his opponent. He had done it, just as his father had taught him, he had truly through sheer power and manliness turned a man into a tool. It was an extraordinary view and Henry took a moment to imagine all the different men that he would inflict the same cruel fate upon. He would rob them of their pride and manhood using his devastating fists and they would be unable to do anything about it. He would carry on until there was no one who would dare to challenge him and he would become the one and only man in the boxing world.

DING DING

The maid hit the bell to announce another round of torture.

Ben looked up as he heard the bell's ring echo throughout his skull. Even hearing hurt at this moment. Once again, he was at the mercy of his young challenger. It was a miracle that neither of his eyes had been cut or gotten swollen enough to strip him from his eyesight, but he wished it had been so. Watching Henry slowly walk towards him for another round of excruciating pain was torture by itself. The man in yellow gear had barely any damage showing on his body, and Ben could feel and see that his whole abdomen, chest, and arms were dotted by bruises and patches or reddened skin. The comparison made him feel so small. So useless. Such a disappointment to himself and his father.

"Go on son, give us another showing of Featherstone greatness," a voice boomed from the ringside.

"Not sure this piece of shit deserves such an honor, but I'll do it for you dad," Henry replied as he brought his arms up and flexed his muscles for everyone to see.

Lord Featherstone stood up in admiration and started to clap for his son, with the servants quickly following suit. The ovation filled Henry with energy and he carried on flexing for everyone to admire him.

Ben bit his lip with whatever strength he had left to stop himself from crying. Henry had made his father proud, and knowing he had never achieved that himself filled him with a sadness and envy much more painful than any hit he had taken so far.

"Please... put an end... to this..." Ben pleaded in a whisper when Henry had finally made his way to him.

Henry's upper lip twitched in anger as he heard Ben's voice. He quickly pulled his right arm back and started hammering his opponents exposed stomach with incredible speed to knock every breath of air out of him.

UGGGGGHHHHHHH!

A spray of blood drops came out of Ben's mouth as he felt the yellow leather glove dig deep and unrelentingly into his core.

"Tools like you don't get to ask me for favors," Henry declared as he took a short step backwards positioning himself at the perfect distance to throw a wide left hook that collided with Ben's face.

More blood painted the yellow leather and the white canvas at the boxers' feet. Before Ben's face even had time to go back to its original position Henry fired two more hooks. Another left and a right hit decked Ben across the face. The older boxer's body only replying with bloody grunts after each hit.

Henry eyed Ben up and down and noticed that his opponent's knees were trembling and ready to give in any second now. It did not really matter. His servants would just make Ben stand up again and again and again. If necessary, he would have them tie ben up and hang him from the ceiling so that he fully became a punching bag for him.