Bruce "King" Torvalds vs Shimmerlace Snuggleblossom - Best 2 out of 3 Reverse Hentai Match

[winner3]

Best 2 out of 3 Reverse Hentai Match/POW Match: Falls to be awarded via climaxing while maintaining a dominant position (as judged by an impartial ref) over the opponent. The winner will claim the loser as their prisoner for a specified about of time after the match.
Victory to be awarded to the first wrestler to earn 2 falls this way.

[Malkavia]

Here came rolling the roseate thunder of the Seelie Wilds beyond the Hedge, strolling through the pink, glittering fog of Pixie Dust and gloaming spores, twirling a glass pipe between her fingers. But where was her traditional music—her truth that was lies, her Jefferson Airplanes? A different, more somber music carried her to the ring. A mandolin shivered, lonely, as the horns rolled and a violin spoke of love, danger, romance. The music was Italy in the hot, dry summer at a lavish villa ruled by a ruthless don. Speak Softly Love.

Shimmerlace wore not quite a frown but something like a poker face. A stony mask with dull lips but shining eyes. She slunk to the ring and slithered between the ropes. She climbed the post to her third-rope spot. Her perch. Her roost over the pre-match ring. Legs crossed, leaned back with a pose more sinister than relaxed, she took another drag of faerie steam and let it billow in front of her face.

“Good evening…cunts and cuntesses of the Eastern Hemisphere.” Her voice rung out low, quiet—much quieter than her usual back-of-the-crowd bellows. The sound system had to work to carry her velvet voice to the four corners of the room.

”Tonight. My Court faces a King. Though, I hear tell he’s more than mere Royalty. He’s eh…” She leaned back, touched her fingers to her lips as her eyes spied some far-off thought. ”...connected. An earner. A good fella in better standing. A wee blood-eyed shark swimmin’ about within the dark, dank, and dangerous seas of…” She sucked a breath, wet, between her teeth before continuing with a thick Italian accent: ”...Cossssssa Nooooostra.”

You could tell quick which audience members knew their Godfather lore. It always used to give Shimmerlace a thrill when she tossed out a hook and an audience member grabbed it. Make ‘em laugh, make ‘em clap. Tonight, she kept her expression flat and mean as Don Corleone himself.

”Ayyyye. That wicked man be many things. But know ye what he’ll be when the Teatime Court has had its way with his knickers?” As ever, she left a beat for the audience to fill, but tonight their rumbling response came slow, so she added another shout: ”I said…KNOW YE, CUNTS OF THE HEMISPHERE, what…I’ll make of our criminal hooligan?”

WHAT?

Shimmerlace stood, balancing her feet on the ringpost. Her white-laced costume furled behind her, as did her veil of pink hair, her bare thighs gleaming pale in the spotlight.

The Fey Don's Attire

”We’ll make of him…”

She drew something from between her breasts. A red scarf. She let it hang, a bright highlight of color in the spotlight. Then—ACHOO! A sneeze and in an instant it unfurled, black and white, and then hung from her hand: sure as you breathe. A maid’s outfit. The feychild allowed a small, smoldering smile as she tossed the dress in the ring.

”A maid man.”

[Out_Of_Ramen]

The juxtaposition of Shimmerlace’s mafiosa aesthetic followed by the ridiculous costume-themed pun-threat combo managed to elicit quite a few laughs from the audience. But, the tone of the pre-match would shift back to a foreboding atmosphere as a new scene unfolded in the opposite entryway. Lights went dim, and white smoke poured out from the opaque passage as dark jazz noir now echoed through the stands.

Half a dozen silhouetted figures carefully emerged from the smoke as if they had just left the scene of a crime in an alleyway behind them. Sporting trench coats and pinched fedoras, the mysterious figures formed a defensive phalanx around a central figure, hidden from sight. White eyes gleamed in shadow under the brims of deep seated hats as they all systematically scanned the crowd from every angle. Audience members who dared to make eye contact received sinister glares.

Mysterious figures enter the arena

The shadowy group closed half the distance to the ring before the music halted in sync with the cessation of their heavy footsteps.

A male Brooklyn accent broke the silence. ”I don’t see no fuzz in this joint, Boss.”

A female Japanese voice concurred from the back. "Yeah, coast is clear! Time to ditch the stuffy getup?"

The central figure slowly raised his hand. Then, a sudden snap of fingers.

All exclaimed: "Roger that, King!"

An anthem to all things sinister and criminal erupted as the lights rose, green strobes that cut through the foggy air and danced over the audiences’ hundred faces. All at once, the crew ripped off their trench coats, and the once trudging patrol of shadowy figures transformed into an energetic motley crew sporting Yakuza-esque tattoos, devilish aesthetics, weapons, and, above all, a nasty attitude.

Ditch the Prohibition duds (1/4)

Ditch the Prohibition duds (2/4)

Ditch the Prohibition duds (3/4)

Ditch the Prohibition duds (4/4)

The orderly, mindful march from before was replaced by a chaotic parade of mean looks and jeers and banging of weapons against railings and concrete. And in the middle stood Bruce, tall above his loyal crew, clad in green and black, lean but muscular, his appearance highlighted by his signature tie, collar, eyepatch, and, of course, his very cool horn.

The mean and evil King Bruce

Bruce’s face beamed with a toothy grin of confidence as he walked with the gait of Gaston the Hunter straight ahead towards the ring while his crew took care to intimidate as many onlookers as they could along the way.

"Make way for the King, chumps!"

"King's Crew is making a stake for territory here at LAW!"

Bruce and his crew reached the edge of the ring. Bruce looked down at the edge of the raised platform before him and chuckled. Another finger snap.

"Roger that, Boss!"

The devilish girl and the bruiser hurried in front of Bruce and made a stepping stair out of their joined hands. One sure step followed by a powerful hoist launched Bruce in a somersault high above the third rope, perhaps absurdly high, in an arc ending with an audible boom as Bruce’s boots landed solidly onto the mat. Still crouched from the landing, some doubters in the crowd could have said that the King had wavered and almost lost his balance, but… they just needed their eyes checked! Because of course Bruce stuck that landing. He stood up straight, both hands on his hips, never losing that wide grin on his face. Bruce let out a hearty laugh and looked up into the sky.

Those idiots almost sent me to space! Way higher than we practiced. Didn’t fall on my ass at least. Still cool. Still cool.

Devil girl and bruiser gave each other a big high five, confident that the boss would praise them later.

Bruce lowered his gaze and immortal grin down to meet the mafiosa Fairy’s eyes from afar. His gaze only momentarily broke away when he noticed the maid outfit on the ground. Bruce silently raised his right arm, extended his index finger straight towards the sky, then lowered the boom down to point squarely at his opponent: “The King has come for you, Shimmerlace Snuggleblossom.”

Bruce’s crew began to jeer from the sidelines at Shimmerlace.

"You're in for a world of hurt, bub!"

”Don’t mess with King, he’s the one!”

"Dead meat!"

"I love your outfit!"

Bruce quickly raised his left hand and the crew shut up instantly. Still pointing with his right hand towards Shimmerlace, Bruce gave a final snap with his left, and the crew shuffled off to an area in the stands where they pushed their way into making a free row for themselves.

"Hahaha. Bet you're feeling pretty scared, huh, bub? Don't worry. I treat stolen goods well after me and my crew pull off a good heist. But today, I'm showing my crew how to pull off a solo job. How to Capture a Fey Creature 101.”

Bruce unfurled his green tie and threw off his black shirt. His toned pecs and abs formed contours against his dark skin, smooth except for several scars below his right collarbone and tattoos of black tendrils on his back.

Shirt is off! Serious business

“And by the way, if you think you can get off clean after stealing half my shtick and thinking that you'll ever get close to getting me in… that,” Bruce motioned toward the maid outfit in the middle of the ring, “then your brain must be mush from getting piss drunk too many times with Satyrs. Nah.”

The now half naked Bruce cracked his knuckles and smirked with anticipation. He still sported his collar, eyepatch, and, of course, his horn.

“This Cosa Nostra’s stealing you away in a bottle and bringing you home tonight for some Prime Material punishment, Ms. Fairy.”

Cocky Bruce

[Malkavia]

With her back to the ring corner, Shimmerlace tilted her chin and took a long look at her opponent, lingering on the places she enjoyed most―starting with his shoulders, sliding down his navel, resting at the space between his legs.

She took a long drag on her pipe. Bruce was the type to make an impression, it seemed. The smoke, the spotlights, the two-part honest-to-Feydwer narrative in his entrance―that shit was pure jazz. The body didn't hurt either. His skin was silky, toned to perfection without the kind of mass that would make it hard to squeeze him in your girl's arms. And...fuck. His face. His damned face, with those serrated teeth, and the black eyeliner, and that...smirk. Shimmer's lips crooked into a smile as her eyes rose back to Bruce's. She crossed her bare legs and blew a drag of pink smoke.

Then, her eyes turned to the crew at ringside. She leaned her shoulder against the rope as she addressed them. ”Oi, you lot. If Bruce here's the Devil King of Crime, I imagine that makes you all...what, the wee imps impropriety or somesuch? Fuckin' adorable. I love it. Question though!" She pursed her lips and lifted her pipe before lowering it to point at the crew. ”Does our esteeeeeeemed infernal, eh. Ever use you for practice?” The Feychild's pink eyes glittered as she shifted from one gangster to the next. They were each at least as chiseled as Bruce himself. ”You know, like. Getting that oral technique up to snuff?” With her grin growing inches by the second, she made a motion with her hand and a knob with her tongue in her cheek to signify the kinds of hellish rituals she had in mind. Then she licked her lips and gave another sensuous suck on her pipe. ”Mmmmm. Puts me of a mind...”

Her eyes slid back to Bruce. ”...You lot dig deals, right? Signatures on the dotted arse and all that?” She flicked her wrist. In an instant, her pipe disappeared. She leaned back into ropes, lifting her chest as she stared slyly out at her opponent. ”Say you and your little joystick down there actually manage to wrap me up in that...bottle. Mmhm. Do that, and tell you what ― I'll avail myself not just to you, but your whole lovely crew." She closed her eyes, licked her lips, and drew her fingers up her navel towards her chest. ”Stuff me. Front, back, and through my tits. Spank me and plow both my holes when you're done. Step on my face, then make me slobber down three of you at once. Work me 'til tears of exhaustion wet my neck. I'll take it. I'll take it all 'til this fairy's a worn out rag ― and then, wellll. Then what's to stop you lot from doing whatever the fuck pleases your wee infernal hearts?"

She let the image linger. Sucked in her breath through her mouth. Then opened her eyes and lowered her smoldering look to meet Bruce.

”But. If, tonight, I put my collar on that lovely neck of yours...Then I want command of that crew, 'cause it's your throat they're gonna be stuffing while I watch. How 'bout it pops?"

[Out_Of_Ramen]

Bruce expected this Fey creature to cower in fear at the might of his devilish crew. But what he received instead was very much the opposite. Instead of shaking knees, there were elegant legs that deftly adjusted themselves atop their perch. Those boots and thighs could be… dangerous. Instead of a quivering mouth, there was an unphased smile born from beguiling lips behind a veil of pink smoke. I wonder how that pipe of hers tastes… Instead of unsteady glances, there was a burning gaze of bedroom eyes and the most shameless full-body eye fuck that Bruce had ever experienced. Stealing shots, huh? Ha! Two can play that game. Bruce reciprocated Shimmerlace’s invasive looks as he took her in from stem to stern. Her body, her attitude… the whole package left Bruce feeling very... engrossed. He felt a twitch and pressure against the speedo hidden behind his pants. Shit! Get focused, you idiot! You’re the cool one, remember? Bruce double-checked that his puffed-out chest and steady grin were still on display, and then he noticed Shimmerlace address his crew.

Bruce: Those boots and thighs could be… dangerous

The cheeky fairy inquired to King’s crew. ”…Does our esteeeeeeemed infernal, eh. Ever use you for practice?”

The Brooklyn boy proudly stood up. “You got that right! We're in the fire pit training with the boss on the daily! We got him well on the way to being the best fuck-fightah in this town, you hear? You about to feel that iron skin and ogre strength honed from daily ROU-TINE!” Then the big bruiser barked. “Oh yeah! Marathon Monday gonna run circles around you. Tripping Thursday gonna knock you on your ass. Weights Wednesday gonna pin you tits-first on the mat. Then Thrusting Tuesday gonna finish the job!” Brooklyn groaned in exasperation. “Buddy! It's Tripping Tuesday and Thrusting Thursday! We do this training every week! Why you always mix it up, stupid?

The hilt of a katana delivered swift, painful bonks to the heads of Brooklyn and bruiser. Urusai! Never reveal King’s secret training rituals to the opponent! Especially not Freaky Friday!” The two imps recoiled and massaged the new lumps on their heads. “Shit!” “Sorry!” The horned girl foolishly decided to protest in their defense. "But, they didn't mention Freaky Fri..." Another bonk delivered upon a third insolent forehead. "Ow!" Bruce chuckled in amusement, but a snap of the fingers instantly tamed the crew and ended the sideshow.

Katana wielder: “Never reveal King’s secret training rituals to the opponent!”

Then, the scene changed. Bruce never could have predicted what manner of sinful, silver-tongued words were about to travel from Shimmerlace’s lips to his ears. "Say you and that little joystick down there manage to wrap me up… Oh, I’ll show you a little joyst- "I'll avail myself to you”

Bruce was taken aback. What's this now? Bruce’s eye betrayed him as it servilely followed Shimmerlace's finger as it journeyed from her navel to her breast. Bruce started to heat up. "Stuff me..." His sharp teeth bit his lower lip. "Spank me..." Bruce uncrossed his arms to wipe the sweat off his brow before it reached his eyepatch. "Work me... 'til this fairy's a worn out rag… Then what's to stop you lot from doing whatever the fuck pleases your wee infernal hearts?" Bruce's hidden speedo failed to hold back the obvious signs of his half-erect cock as it visibly pushed out against the inside of his pants leg.

”But. If, tonight, I put my collar on that lovely neck of yours...Then I want command of that crew, 'cause it's your throat they're gonna be stuffing while I watch. How 'bout it pops?" Bruce released an involuntary whistle. "Now that's a contract I didn't expect to cross my desk today! Damn! Mmmmm. Puts me of a mind too..." While Bruce pondered terrible thoughts of conquest, some of Bruce's crew looked evidently concerned about being forcibly inducted into the service of a sex-crazed Fey. "Yo boss! I know you love to gamble, but I think this fairy is handing ya some poisoned mead! I gots a bad feeling!" "Boss! That's too high-stakes a bet, even for you!" Another couple of bonks from the katana's hilt punished Brooklyn boy’s and bruiser’s lack of faith. "Never tell King when he should hit and when he should fold! He knows what he's doing! And he won't lose either way!" The devilish girl was glowing with excitement. "Go for it King! Best deal ever! We’ll all get a turn to fuck your hot ass! I mean, her hot ass!"

Horned girl: "Go for it King! Best deal ever! We’ll all get a turn to fuck your hot ass! I mean, her hot ass!"

Another snap of King's fingers silenced the infernal lot. Bruce's green eye fixated wildly on Shimmerlace, his grin wider than ever before. "Heh heh. So, temptress from beyond the hedge. Seems that you're not a sweet spell of nature at all. No… You’re an Unseelie menace! Weaving hidden enchanted webs about an irresistible cursed fruit that entices mortals and devils alike. But what’s more… To have the gall to even think of stealing a king’s loyal crew and commanding them to fuck the pride right out of him! And calling me old on top of it all! Pops?! That you would even dare… I fucking LOVE it!"

Bruce clapped his hands and dramatically pointed toward the sky once again. "The wager is control of the best crew in the fucking world!” The boom lowered and Bruce pointed an arrow of an index finger straight toward the audacious Fey. ”And the loser gets their ass reamed straight into another plane! King accepts!" Matching Bruce’s excitement, another crew member below Bruce’s waistline throbbed for joy at the thought of the alluring Fey’s challenge. Bruce extended his hand out for a handshake to seal the deal.

Another crew member below Bruce’s waistline throbbed for joy at the thought of the alluring Fey’s challenge

[Malkavia]

If Shimmerlace had been disposed towards feeling the gossamer wings of gut-butterflies, the icy edge of fear in her heart, or the slimy seeds of doubt in her mind, there would be plenty in our Devil to stoke those feelings.

Height. Muscle. Confidence. Bruce backed up every word he said with his posture and gestures and an expression that made something in Shimmerlace salivate. When he told her his was the best crew in the wide arc of this glittering world, not a pale gasp of doubt lingered in the Feychild's mind. Fuckin' of course they were. Precisely fuckin' so. By the time his posse got to posturing about thrusting Thursdays, she felt that thrust, clear and lovely, hot and slick between her legs. Her face prickled. Aye, here was a man whose crew adored him, supported him, would buoy him up through thick and thin.

(Well, most of them anyway. There was that one horny imp. Shimmerlace caught her eye, lip quirked in a smirk, before she'd turned back to Brucey)

Brucey lucy, Brucey juicy, the King. He knew how to flatter a young fairy, too. Temptress from beyond the hedge. Damn straight. By now, Shimmerlace could feel the bell coming like the first thunder of a storm, and the anticipation made her skin prickle with goosebumps. The King extended his hand. His crew on the line, wagered in a fairy's contract with every inch of her body, in and out, as collateral. Her toes clenched while her nipples turned hard under her gear. She threw her hair back, hopped out of her seat, and stepped forward with her gloved hand outstretched.

DING DING!

...Not that our Feychild had the slightest intention of taking that handshake. Sleight of hand was the name of the game—as in she intended to sleight that hand up and around his neck, while she slipped the hand not in the spotlight down the frontside of his pants to get a real sense of what our man was packing. Then catch his eyes, let her smile smolder, and bring him in for a kiss. Infernal down to fey lips.

[Out_Of_Ramen]

Before the bell rang, Bruce's hand remained outstretched for what he hoped appeared to be an honest handshake. But secretly, this totally mean and evil devil had concocted a dastardly plan to take this fey creature by surprise! I'm gonna show this cheeky fairy a thing or two! I've got a plan... As soon as she grabs my hand, I'm gonna yank her back, catch her backside, full body grab, then suplex her. She'll never see it coming! Hahaha

DING DING

All the imps in the crowd erupted for their boss:

“GO, KING! GO!”
“GO, KING! GO!”
“GO, KING! GO!”
“GO, KING! GO!”

Bruce was 100% ready to execute his wicked scheme. All he needed now was that gloved hand to shake his hand. Shimmerlace approached Bruce, but the handshake never came. The fairy flew past Bruce's extended hand and wrapped herself around his body like vines around a tree. Her right hand rested around his neck. Hold on! This isn't part of the plan! Her left hand slid down into his speedo and explored his half-erect cock. "Hey!“ Bruce let out an involuntary moan of pleasure when her fingers brushed past his glans. “Ah~~" Shimmerlace locked eyes with Bruce, then she pulled him in for a kiss. Oh, fuck me...

Shimmerlace locked eyes with Bruce, then she pulled him in for a kiss

The fey charm was too much. Shimmerlace had successfully cast a spell over this devil.

Bruce forgot his devious plan to grapple Shimmerlace and throw her down. Instead, Bruce's left hand grabbed her about the waist and pulled her into him, her breasts pressed up into his bare-chested body. Bruce’s naked abs brushed up against Shimmerlace's hardened nipples hidden behind her clothes. With his right hand, Bruce yanked down on her silky hair, rotating her chin up to meet his, their faces now just centimeters apart. Bruce’s emerald eye stared down wildly into Shimmerlace’s skyward pink irises while his cock got harder in her hand.

“Daring to cast your charm spells so brazenly in front of me! Such impudence! You’ll have to be punished… later.” Bruce cradled Shimmerlace’s head in his right hand as he leaned in and vigorously kissed her. Meanwhile, Bruce’s left hand slid around her white one-piece suit and into her black bottoms. Bruce massaged Shimmer’s pussy mound and traced the curious pattern of her pubic hair with his fingers. Huh. A heart shape with vines or maybe wings around it. Fuck... Bruce reached deeper and caressed her outer labia. Totally drenched! Damn. I’m not the only one rearing to go.

Bruce’s left hand slid around her white one-piece suit and into her black bottoms.

Bruce traced the curious pattern of her pubic hair…

While both fairy and devil continued investigating each other below the belt, Bruce released the kiss and gazed down at Shimmerlace. "Those lips… sweet cherry then prickly spice. Heh. I suppose I'll have to endure some thorns if I want to kiss a Rose. But, what about this heart-embroidered flower down below? It's so drenched in nectar. I wonder, after I knock you down, pin you, and lick your petals clean, would I taste sweet honeysuckle or bitter poison berry?"

Bruce grinned and continued to tease Shimmerlace's outer labia while he locked eyes with her.

After I knock you down, pin you, and lick your petals clean, would I taste sweet honeysuckle or bitter poison berry?"

[Malkavia]

It had been many a bright moon's loop around the world since Shimmerlace had last held a cock in her hands. In the books she read, authors liked to wax on and on about how they turned rock hard, until you could swear they were spears cast as weapons of war. The reality, she found, was much cuter. A good dick...and Bruce's was a solidly good dick...was squishy. Sure, he got a bit stiff. When her hand wrapped around the shaft and found the two ovals of his balls and squeezed, he perked right up. Still, the skin was soft. When she stroked him and brushed against the head, the knob squished as it slid along her palm, leaving behind a bead of moisture. Cute. Delicate. Her little fella.

Bruce interrupted her reverie when he gave her hair a yank. Sharp pain made her wince, and then she caught his look and he kissed her, slid his fingers down her navel and felt up her intimates. She purred, sliding her tongue around his. When their lips smacked and pulled apart, she wore a slightly dazed smile.

"Heart-embroidered, ey?" The Feychild smirked. Fuck if he didn't have the perfect phrase for every dewdrop on the field. She leaned into the crook of his shoulder and planted a kiss under his ear. His body was huge, and his smell made her fingers curl into his hair. "When I lift my fingers from the one set of lips to the other..." she whispered, "When I... slip 'em down my throat to the third knuckle and suckle, I find a taste hard to catch with words. Mmm. Violet dreams, perhaps, drenched in feytouched passion."

Shimmer's neck crooked, as her face pressed deeper into Bruce's shoulder. Her hand slipped from Bruce's neck down to his waist. "Mayhaps you'll find a better description, though..." As Shimmerlace spoke, her grip on Bruce's cock tightened. Her fingers clenched around the base of his sweet little man, until she swore she could hear it whimpering. "...when I'm using that horn of yours as a grip while I dunk your face in a throat-full of your own."

And here came the moment to yank the curtain ― or the dick, more accurately. Her hips sunk into a squat, her one arm locked under his armpit, and the other clenched down on his privates steel-tight as a bear trap. Her thighs flexed, core clenched, and her deadlift arced as she aimed to lift Brucey-boy up and over into a ballsplex of a toss, headfirst towards the corner turnbuckle!

[Out_Of_Ramen]

Bruce loved the way Shimmerlace teased his cock, kissed him, and grabbed his hair. "Ah! Fuck..." Bruce couldn't help but let out audible moans of pleasure. Just the right amount of gentle touches and targeted abuse. "Heh. But, you know, the only horn you'll get a chance to grab is the one you're holding right now. And he's almost ready to f-" Shimmerlace interrupted the pontificating devil with a steel grip on his cock and balls.

“AHHHH” Bruce yelled in agony as the bear trap closed. Before he could react, those dangerous thighs hoisted Bruce up into the air and sent him careening into the ring corner, headfirst towards the turnbuckle. WHAM! Direct hit. Bruce landed hard, his groin on fire and his head pounding in pain. Bruce got to his knees but struggled to stand up.

Shimmerlace ballsplexed Bruce headfirst into the turnbuckle

“Ah shit… beat me to the punch with that surprise attack… you goddamn… Venus flytrap. Ow...” Bruce winced in pain and clutched at his groin.

“You ok, boss?!”
“Get up, boss!”
“You got this!”
“You’re still the King!”

The cheers from Bruce’s crew filled him with determination! Bruce disassociated himself from the pain between his legs, and he shot straight back up, standing tall and proud. “That’s damn right!” Bruce pointed towards Shimmerlace. “And that extraplanar ass is getting dragged back to my castl-” Bruce couldn’t finish his boast before a wave of vertigo rushed over him. He stumbled around, then fell onto the ropes, his head ringing. “Hit me harder than I thought. Ugh…” Bruce became a dazed, half-naked heap struggling to stand back up before the Fey creature could take advantage of him.

Bruce became a dazed, half-naked heap struggling to stand back up

[Malkavia]

Sometimes fate hands a girl a gift, and the wise among us don't pause to question its motives. When Bruce sprawled into the corner, his legs splayed out. His head crooked back, eyes all agog, and if Shimmerlace felt a stir of intuition in her gut at nineteen hundred hours, then her feet got to galloping at nineteen hundred hours plus a rounding error.

Ribbon and lace streamed behind Shimmerlace, a pearly flag under the pink streamer of her hair. It took three long strides to cross the mat, heels clunking on the mat one, two, three. Then, she reached his corner, grabbed the top rope, and jumped.

Flight. Her heels arced from the mat towards the ceiling as she lept into a rush of wind. Her hair blew out in front of her. And what would Bruce see? Her breasts hung upside down under a face all aglow. Grinning, like a kid whose kite just caught a stellar gust of wind. Up to now, she'd been sultry, seductive, crass, mean—but this? This was pure fun.

"Hit you hard did I?" For a frozen fraction of a second, her body stood rigid over his, a straight line frozen in the moment. Her eyes glittered at his. "Ain't seen shit yet, sweet wee ember."

Then—the drop. If all went well, she'd come swinging down the way she went up, hips careening in like a wrecking ball poised to demolish an hellish captain's face between Shimmer's thighs with an early bronco buster.

Spoiler