Victory Conditions: Pinfall, Submission or Knockout after scoring an orgasm.
Victory Stipulations: The loser will become the winners property for an undisclosed amount of time.
Bad Brad was not a happy man.
Granted, you didn’t get a nickname like ‘Bad Brad’ from being a perpetually happy customer, but today, he was below even his low standards. When he first came to LAW, he hadn't just been looking to make a living. He’d wanted to get into real matches with the best in the world. He’d wanted to show everyone what real wrestling was. Everyone had this pussy idea of it these days, nothing but skinny ass runway models with no talent flailing in the ring. In LAW, he wanted to change the game, to do what he’d been doing back home on the grandest stage. Real wrestling. Authentic. Pure.
And yet, here he was, marching down to the ring while his played, staring straight at the cage enclosing it all. A cage match. A fuckng hentai cage match.
Jesus Christ.
The thought of it made him want to throw up. How many great matches had happened inside cages? It was the essence of hardcore. No rules, no interference, just two men going at in between the metal, how it was supposed to be. He’d craved that sort of thing, hoping he could have a real fight in front of the world. But no, he was instead going to make his heavy metal debut against a woman. And not just any woman, either - Sydney Sykes.
He rubbed his head as he came around the cage, his skull still aching from where she’d smacked him with the weights. Her and other Red Nation bitches had jumped him in the gym, starting shit just because he didn't bow down and kiss their asses like they expected most of the men around here to do. He’d stood up and they ganged up on him, beating him around, then beating him off on the turnbuckle. From what he’d found out on Google, that was the groups MO back in the USA, and they were importing it over to Japan.
Fuck. That. Not at his expense. If Sydney wanted to play those game, he’d show her exactly why it was a stupid idea. She’d challenged him to a match, and while he did hate the thought of doing one of these stupid hentai matches, he owed her for that farce in the gym. He couldn't think of a better way than making her pop her top in front of millions.
Brad hopped up the stairs, stepped over the top rope and promptly made his way over to the far corner. He leaned against the pads and slumped, still seething beneath the shadow of his headband as his music died down.
Get out here. Come on…