The Pleasure House

The card came in the mail. It was small, bright and clear on silver, surface that would blind if caught the sun. It looked like a credit card, but without the chip and stripe. The initials YPH in a ghostly white on the font of the front of the card with a pixelated pattern next to it. No features on the back.

YPH Your Pleasure House.

Aaron shook his head at the name. He felt a familiar fear: not fear of this... house. Rather a fear of being disappointed. He was the captain of a very large company. Few things were worth his time.

This had better be one of them.

The GPS map placed it in the mountains. He liked the symmetry of that. One of his houses was in the mountains, and not far. At least it was in the same state. He would drive, although he could barely afford the time.

Hours of driving from his closest house got him a few miles from the spot. The closest feature shown on his car map was hiking head and the second closest feature was a gas station 5 miles away. The third closest feature was a town about 15 miles away.

His car found a service road that led up the mountain.

This couldn't be it, he thought. It looked like a logging trail.

He stopped. He scanned the card, so the instructions came in one of his linked emails, encrypted, of course. He followed the link, in the same manner of a QR code, only the pattern had been like no QR code he'd seen before. But why worry? But the pattern was probably new. No matter. The Link had produced coordinates - coordinates he had dutifully copied into his GPS.

His GPS had led him to this road, some godforsaken backcountry government road, probably not even used by logging trucks anymore. He imagined just forest service trucks came through here and from the looks of some brass shells he had seen on the ground when he'd stopped to take a piss at a wide spot, poachers. He laughed to himself.

He was a poacher of sorts.

He continued up the road. The pin showed he only had a quarter mile to go. He was sure he'd been scammed. If that was true he would fire his head of security this coming week. There was nothing up here.

He never got mad for long. He had a superpower. It was hard to stay angry while in possession of a superpower. He had substantial assets. He did not just have a lawyer on retainer. His company retained an entire law firm, and not just a floor. A whole building. And all of the goodies that come with that. Private investigators, people with access to the government, police even.

If this all turned out to be fake, if they'd scammed him out of 100 grand, he would find the group behind the URL wherever they were at no matter here or across the globe, and he would burn it all and bury it deep underground.

He rounded a turn. His jeeps all terrain tires bounced on the washboard ruts and crunched on the gravel.

And then the building popped into view. Like a magic trick. Like a giant hand had placed a parking garage in the middle of the forest. Like someone had cast a spell and a building had grown out of a circle of sigil stones on the mountainside.

His heart was pounding. He relished the feeling. It had been a long time since he'd been excited about anything. The girls he usually called on were beautiful but... boring.

The girl at the door was gorgeous. Long blonde hair, dark eyes, a runners body. A runners body. His hopes rose. Having a runners body was key, wasn't it? She was athletic. She was lithe. He spent a moment too long looking. She caught his eye and brightened. She said in a teasing voice, "You're a stomach guy."

His heart raced again and he tasted copper in his mouth. Nevermind the lawyer. Ancient history.

This was already the best money he'd ever spent.

She unbuttoned her satin black suit vest and pulled up her dress shirt. Her skin was honey tan and her lower abs were surrounded by beautiful v taper and she had delicate striations at the side. Her navel deep set, even so a cap of bellybutton visible, despite her being as toned as she was, or perhaps because of. she sucked her stomach in deeply, allowing her hip bone and ribs to protrude in rude detail, tightened the twin seqmented ropes of ab muscle and performed a quick pseudo nauli for him. Her abs melted in and out, side to side, undulating, striations moving in hypnotic unison. She repeated this a few times, easily, naturally, smiling at him the whole time. He was impressed. This sort of ease, this sort of control, it took years of practice. He knew all about it. She did not appear troubled for breath, thus her muscle control was incredible.

His heart was racing proper now and he could already feel a painful tension in his crotch.

"Here," she said, and reached out to grab his hand. He let her. she guided his hand to the top of her stomach and undulated her muscles again. Her skin was very smooth and very warm and very soft and yet he could feel the tight muscles working underneath, muscles sinewy enough, strong enough that he couldn't easily press them with his fingers. He tried. He could press at the skin but the muscle underneath barely budged. His hands were strong. He knew this because he had access to doctors and a personal trainer and a state of the art gym and an advanced grip testing machine. His grip strength was above average for a man of his size, and his size was above average. He could only imagine how strong she was. The tension in his crotch was building painfully. She pressed her ab muscles against his hands. Her abs were dense, un-pressable still and he tried but not too hard, but it was like her body was made of soft skin over a carved hardwood core, like someone had somehow put living skin over a living department store mannequin.

He was erect.

She watched him flush and laughed and said, "You're cute! You're going to have fun." She reached out and felt his crotch and nodded, "Yeah, you're ready."

"Are you going up there with me?" he croaked.

She laughed, putting her shirt back, buttoning her vest. "No. I'm the host. But you want floor six. Your room is 616."

He looked up and looked back at her.

She smiled, and quickly looked around. "But you know, I really have the same... fetish. like stomachs too. I'm not supposed to tell clients that but..."

"But what?" he asked keeping his voice even, moving from her but not able to look away. Her body was magnificent.

She looked down at herself. "As you can probably tell. Mine's pretty tight." She smacked herself hard at the top of her stomach with the side of her fist loud enough to make a slapping sound that echoed loudly in the lobby. "I'm weird." She hit herself again, loudly, again at the top. And dug in a bit. She shook her hand. "Its pretty bad when you hurt your own fist doing that. Some people like being hit at the bellybutton or somewhere around it. And that's okay. Being punched anywhere is fine. I love the pressure. I like mine at the top. It hurts more. For a second. I wish it lasted longer. There is an electric feeling. And I love the pressure."

His crotch was vibrating. He held it. It was hot and there was a bulge and his pants were hurting it. If she touched it again he would probably come right there, wet through his pants. He would have to go back out to his car and get a changes of clothes.

This place was worth every penny.

"There is a punching machine in here. Specially designed. I heard we are going to get a robot one of these days, but who knows. I'll take you to it sometime."

"A robot?"

"No silly, our punching machine."

"Let's go now," he said breathlessly.

"You're not here for me, your date awaits."

He looked up at the room, then back at her. "But the machine?"

"Yeah, You can control the PSI. Or I think that's what they call it. Or you can set it to slow, back yourself against a wall or not and let it dig in. Push it into your gut and sit with it. Sometimes when I'm in the mood Ill eat a grapefruit or two or something I know is going to give me a slight stomachache and press the puncher into me."

He stared at her wide eyed, mouth almost agape.

She looked up at his floor for a moment and then looked at him. She said, "I'm not supposed to do this but I don't get the chance to do this with cute guys."

"I'm cute?" he asked ruefully.

"Your not ugly."

"That's good to know."

"You're going to have so much fun up there." She shivered. "Okay, hit me. Quick. Once."

"Hit you?"

"Yeah. And hard. Or whatever you want. Guys wont hit me."

"You ask them to hit you?"

"What do you think this place is? They won't do it out there. It's boring. Conventional sex is so boring."

"I agree"

"I have to wait it out and look excited. Very tedious. In here it's different That's why the price. I like staying fit."

He found himself punching her. But not hard. He was a fetishist of all things stomach. The animal in him told him this was all some insane dream and he would never get another chance. He dreamed of punching, being punched. But punching someone who could handle it. He was no sadist. Very much the opposite. He enjoyed above all punching someone who liked being punched. Even more so punching a hot girl who liked being punched. he was a masochist and he also liked being humiliated. But the terms had to be perfect.

He bumped her abs with his fist. Warm and soft and hard. And she smiled.

She cocked her head to one side and said flatly, "Really?"

He looked at her.

She ordered, "A little harder please."

"You said once."

"Might not get to do this again."

"I don't think that's true." he said.

"Oh when you see what's waiting for you you will have so much fun you'll forget all about me"

"I doubt that."

"Punch punch punch" she hissed excitedly. "Hit me"

He gave her a good pop, punching straight forward with the force he would used on a cardboard box to break it down. Or maybe almost the way he would train on a bag at the gym.

There was actually a small hollow wet sound from the impact. She bounced back a bit from the impact and braced on her heels but otherwise she was ramrod straight. He noticed for the first time she wasn't wearing dress heels but some chic flat soled brand. She's getting some exercise from other clients, he thought. He would be one of them one of these days. Worth every penny.

She raised her eyebrows. she said, "harder."

He put some force into this one, punching hard like punching at a pillow. She didn't quite double over. She bent a little. She bowed, with his fist still buried in her gut. "Press harder she said." He pushed deeper. Her stomach was tight enough and squeezing where it was actually hurting his knuckles. She stretched out straight, closed the space between them, keeping his fist up in her stomach. She kissed him on the forehead. She touched his crotch again.

He lost it this time. His body shuddered with orgasm. The base of his penis ratcheted madly, vibrating, and pumped and the familiar electric drug seized his mind and he just stood there looking blankly at everything.

"My bad she laughed. I hope you have another one in you. Of course you do. You're virile. Plus you have all night. I'm jealous."

His mind was reeling.

Floor six. 616. The card let him in.

The room was adequate.

A woman walked in. she was pretty and skinny. She was gorgeous and skinny. dark hair wide eyes. about 30 if he had to guess. good start.

"My name is [Jenny] What's your name. "

He gave her his name.

"Marie likes you. That's kind of unusual. You've maybe cracked the code." She giggled. She went to the fridge in room and grabbed a bottle of water.

"Cracked what code?"

"Hard to find guys who will punch her in the stomach."

"Really?"

"You'd be surprised. I mean cute guys. Guys you would enjoy fucking."

"Do you like being punched in the stomach?" he asked.

"Look where you are at and ask yourself it that's a serious question. It's my job."

"What's your job?"

"To ask the questions."

"But I'm the customer. I'm always right."

She rolled her eyes. "Soooo boring!" She twisted off the cap and flicked it at him. She upended the bottle. And drained. It. All. Impressive. She couldn't weight more than 110 pounds.

She too, now, started a Nauli. Sort of. She leaned back against the fridge and undulated her ab muscles back and forth. Top to bottom. "Watch this," she said. she waved him over. "Or better. Listen"

She gently grabbed the back of his head and forced his ear against her stomach. She continued undulating her muscles. his ear pressed against her skin too. She was warm. He could sense a hollow but her heartbeat was vibrant and fast and he sat with the sound, and again there was tension starting in his crotch and he heard faint gurgling, then louder. She breathed in and out, sucked her gut in and out and there was pronounced sloshing. She kept his head pressed to her stomach moved away from the door, opened the fridge, grabbed another water and gulped that down.

He could hear the water swallowed. The liquid sloshing, finding its path down the esophagus to the pit of the stomach. He was treated to a symphony of borborygmi. Delicate upper tones and then deeper. Her body's peristalsis process pushing the water and her stomach probably having been mostly empty before having quickly drunk 32 ounces of cold water, there was now gurgling and rumbling and growling and sloshing and she sucked in again this time after two full bottle of water and his head was full of warm deep rumbling and high bubbling. and she pressed his head harder into her gut, full of water, sloshing about.

"Don't you have a stomachache?" he asked.

"I like it!" she said, stroking his hair. "do you like it?" she asked softly.

"I could sit here all night." he said.

"Should i eat an apple, banana, grapefruit? Or this?" she pulled something out of the fridge and dangled it in front of him. He could hear her stomach squirting loudly. he watched her show him a bag of raw vegetables. "He said, love it!" She opened it and started munching. He listened intently to her stomach digesting the food. She actually ate the whole bag.

"Don't make yourself sick he said."

"Would it gross you out if i threw up?" she said.

"Do you want to throw up?"

"I might. I like stomachaches. I'm sure you like listening." She tossed the bag away. "Ill top it off with raw honey and some smoked salmon."

Her stomach was going crazy. Slurping and churning and bubbling and dribbling and her heart was in the background pounding. She took his head and continued pressing it in to her stomach but now forcing circular motions. The sound was incredible. He was hard all over again.

"Here," she said. She had him get up and she took his hand and had him make a fist and guided his fist into her gut. she pushed his fist to the top of her abdomen and pressed in and told him to keep it there. "I might throw up" she said. "Feed me an apple. Keep your fist there." He grabbed an apple next to the fridge put it to her mouth. She bit into the side and chewed off a piece, all the while his bunched fist pressed deep into the top of her belly. She swallowed several bites and he pushed deeper into her warm stomach and he could hear the digestion and the soft sloshing. And there was a shift in noise and he saw her throat move and her lower jaw opened and she sat up and doubled over and she spit a stream of vomit onto the floor.