Punching Bag Book Novels & Stories

Author’s Pov The harsh sound of fists slamming against the punching bag echoed violently through the room. Again. And again. And again. Sweat rolled down Lax’s body in thick drops, his breathing uneven as rage burned through him like wildfire. The chain holding the heavy bag rattled loudly each time he struck it, but it still wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. With a furious growl, he threw one last punch before shoving the bag away violently. The table beside him crashed over a second later.

*punch* *punch* His death should be the cruellest death in this history. I want to give him that. *punch* *punch* *punch* I will give him the most painful death. I WILL! *hard punch* *bag torn and sand fell with a 'whoof' sound* Yes! Just like this bag, you will fall on my mother's feet, lifeless! I promised that faceless monster in my imagination. I sighed and removed the layer hanging and replaced it with a new bag and continued to work out my anger. While I was at the verge of breaking the fifth bag, The door to my small gym slammed opened and my mom sighed in relief.

But you don't make things that have already taken place disappear just by wishing them away. During our fighting lessons, we used the punching bag in his personal gym. I recalled the first time he asked me to use it. I had punched the bag with ally strength but he had not been impressed "Are you patting the bag or punching it?" he asked. "You have to punch your attacker or enemy as the case may be with everything you have. Now punch the bag with all your strength as though your life depends on it". After then, my punches improved greatly and even I felt it. It made me happy that I was received Ng this training .

Music thudded faintly from overhead speakers, but his rhythm drowned it out. Thud, thud, thud. Each punch landed with a smack that made heads turn. His knuckles, wrapped tight in tape, blurred as he battered the bag. Shoulders heaved, lungs burned, but he kept his stance sharp; jab, cross, hook, reset. The veins in his forearms bulged with effort.

Taking a deep breath, I faced the stuffed leather bag, putting on the gloves and fisting my hands at my sides as I assumed a position to strike. He nodded in approval at my perfect form. Locking my gaze on the bag, an image came to my head. The one man I want to beat up the way Andre had just finished beating up the punching bag. With the image locked in my head, I threw the first punch, not too weak, but not exerting either and another and another, each punch gaining with speed, momentum and intensity until I was flat out beating and kicking the shit out of the punching bag like it had personally aggravated me.

*PUNCH* Sweat ran down my face as my fist continued to make contact with the punching bag. It continued like this for another 30 minutes before I yelled out in frustration and the roundhouse kicked the bag harder than necessary, causing it to break the chain connecting it to the ceiling and spilt in half on the gym floor. One freaking month. Thirty goddamned days!!! That’s how long it’s been since the little excursion with Ace in the basement. My fists clenched at the memory:

It does move here let me show you," she moved out of the way and without using all my strength, I punched the bag and it moved. "See," I said looking at her as she looked at the bag with her mouth wide open. "But why didn't it move when I punched it? does this bag just hate me?" she asked and I chuckled lightly saying "no it doesn't hate you, you are just a newbie. You don't know how to do it but once I teach you and you get a hung of it then you will be punching bags like this and moving them in no time. "

She was too determined…too stubborn; he’d told her to start from level one…even if it would hurt her pride. Her first punch was weak…but why f*cking not? The punching bags here are more that five hundred pounds. She could hurt her wrist if she punched it any harde~ Zayd’s train of thought broke when she punched the bag again, harder this time…with too much power, and she kept the punches coming, not stopping even as sweat drained down her face in gallons.

From the heavy panting me and my gang did compared to the other trainees made me realize how out of shape we were and how much we really needed this. Dominic then pressed a button on the wall and punching bags were lowered in front of us. From how it felt in my hands I guessed it was around 100 lb. "We're going to get to 300 punches alright?" She said which made my eyes look at the punching bag in dread, my arms were aching in pain already but I shook my head and got in position along with everyone else, including Dominic, "One!" --- "My legs are shaking, I can hardly stand!" the lads and I slowly made our way down to the basement following behind Dominic who seemed as normal as when the cla

To go beyond enemy lines like she was going to a store to pick up groceries. I wrapped my hands a little too tightly, punching the hell out of the punching bag. It swayed violently from the impact of my punches, and I folded my hands so tightly as if my grip would cut off blood flow. I didn’t feel it. I sent another series of punches at the punching bag. It swayed again, and the chain creaked. My knuckles were burning from impact, and I relished in the pain. It made so much sense. Teresa’s idea didn’t.