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

[Out_Of_Ramen]

The crowd was eating this shit up! And nobody in the audience had more kick than Bruce's incorrigible entourage of imps. Whether their hoots and hollers were in support of their fiendish boss or the fortitudinous fairy, maybe only an Infernal translator could really say.

"Yoooo did you see her tank that hit?" Brooklyn wrapped his tatted arm around devil girl and pointed excitedly at the ring as if his friend might've just missed something cool. Hannya blushed and bit her thumb out of frustration and something else. "S-she really fucking did, huh."

Bruiser was impressed and had to readjust his big body for the chair as he sat back down. "Incredible vigor!"

"Hey Hannya, how long were you out for when King hit you with that same move last sparring session? Two hours? Three?" Brooklyn's cheeky grin didn't last long as the devil girl grabbed his arm and tossed the mouthy fucker onto the feet of the shocked fairy fans in the row below. "S-SHUT UP, BROOKLYN!" Kiyomi bonked the devil girl on the back of her head with her katana and wrangled the fighting imps.

Bruce held up Shimmerlace's boot and appraised the spoils of war one last time before tossing the ivory treasure all the way up towards his gang with a wordless smirk. Kiyomi had her hands full with Brooklyn and Hannya, so Bruiser caught the fey footwear out of the air.

Bruiser analyzed Shimmerlace's stance and recognized immediately what a newcomer to wrestling, like King, might not. "Boss! She's setting you up for a strike exchange! She wants ya to lay one into her fair and square!"

"Ha! Is that right?" Bruce cracked his knuckles and marched over to Shimmerlace, his devilish cock bouncing in rhythm with each step of his infernal march until it came to rest near Shimmerlace's navel. Would the Fey fighter flinch when Bruce towered over her, grinning with fangs out? Or would she still be pointing at her jaw patiently like a resolute pink statue of pure chutzpah?

Bruce placed his left hand on Shimmerlace's bare shoulder to brace her and himself. "I got half a mind to think this is one of your Fey tricks. But I figure, either way, we'll both be along for a ride." Bruce's thumb betrayed him for a moment as it absent-mindedly brushed against her bare collarbone before he raised his right hand and clenched his fist.

"Get ready, bub! This one's gonna smart!" Bruce gripped her left shoulder as he swung a right hook right at the fairy's face!

Bruce's thumb brushed against her bare collarbone... before he swung a right hook right at the fairy's face!

[Malkavia]

And there's his claw clenching her collar. It was an unexpected obstacle, but in the end, it just meant she had to roll her shoulder when she ducked. His fist sailed clean over her soft pink scalp.

"Whoopsie daisy!" It was nice looking up at a man for a change. She smiled and lidded her eyes, mouth just a touch agape. Fuck if it didn't feel like middle school again, and Shimmerlace with a crush—which was to say, prey. "I think ya miiiight've been a touch slow there, Brucie~"

There was something positively magnetic about that man's cock, and Shimmerlace had iron in her blood. Her knee specifically. While she rested one hand on the boy's chest, her leg raised in salute, bare thigh squishing into his ball sack. Not hard enough to hurt (yet), but—enough to bounce his cute little manhood. Boing, boing, boing.

...Though, actually. It was not so little, she noticed.

"Why don'tcha...give us a second take, ey, flopsy-cock?"

[Out_Of_Ramen]

The fairy flew down and away from his fist so fast that it took Bruce a full second to register how much of a fucking dumbass he was, thinking that he could trust a Fey to a fair exchange of blows.

The devil leered down at her and mumbled under his breath. "You flittering, fraudulent motherfu—Nngh!"

An alabaster thigh suddenly threatened to both cradle and crush his nuts, his cock getting harder with every bounce on her pale thigh.

Why don'tcha...give us a second take, ey, flopsy-cock?

Bruce's smooth chest became rough with goosebumps as the fairy's fingertips grazed him. Precum dripped on her thigh as she dribbled his hard little third leg on her knee. Bruce swallowed audibly and struggled to hold back a moan. The devil needed to watch himself, or this Fey was gonna put him in a trance again.

Bruce grabbed her bodice with his right hand and pulled her by the tits until she was flush with his practically naked body. Faces nearly touching, lips inches apart, and a smoldering gaze that betrayed how fucking turned on he was. "Flopsy cock? That ain't no soft little rabbit down there. It's a weapon with proficiency. And so is this!"

Bruce gripped the chest of her outfit tightly so she couldn't get away this time, and then he launched a much faster punch from below: a left uppercut to her cheeky cheek!

[Malkavia]

Rrrrrrip!

God bless the quick-change tailor, unsung hero of stage magic. Shimmerlace spun—nah, scratch that, pirouetted down the mat while Bruce's fist caught nothing but air, and all she lost was the front of her outfit.

The ropes caught her back. Momentum wanted to send her traipsing back Bruce's way, but nah, not yet. She looped her arms over the second rope to catch all that speed, then leeeeaned back with her grin near as cock-sure as the tilt in her head and the flop of her bare tits.

"I sure fuckin' hope your sword's got better aim than that lil cock-up Brucie. Otherwise...Well, there's gonna be some unsatisfied Hell maidens. Though~" She glanced, sly as a dragon, at her favorite madame crewmate, "I s'pose desperate girls perhaps don't hold the highest standards."

But enough lollygagging. Shimmerlace pushed off the ropes and swayed Bruce's way. This was fun. And it served a purpose—namely getting Bruce steamed enough he'd finally pop once her needle hit true. She watched him, careful despite the fun in her eyes, ready to duck and weave and fuckin' fly if necessary to slip under the next blows one, two, and three.

[Out_Of_Ramen]

“W-what did that topless tinsel-winged tramp say? T-that fairy wants a fight more than Brooklyn does!” Hannya, Ms. Devil Girl with her face as red as her spade tail after Brooklyn’s quip about how better Shimmerlace takes crotch punches than her, was aiming to knock the shit-eating grin off Brooklyn’s face with a knock-out dick stomp of her own just before the latest round of Seelie shade was thrown her way. Kiyomi had to quickly put down her katana and zip behind the misbehaving imp, her blonde hair a momentary flash of gold. Bruce’s #2 in command locked the raging devil in a full nelson. “Hannya! Stomp on Brooklyn’s balls later! And do not interfere with King’s match unless he says so!”

Meanwhile, back in the ring below, Bruce was as cool as Hell’s frozen layer of Stygia, nonplussed by the fey’s quips. But a discerning eye with high Perception would notice a definite blush in the devil’s brown cheeks as the beautiful fairy’s chest lay bare for the first time in front of him.

The beautiful fairy’s chest lay bare for the first time

Bruce proudly held her detached bodice aloft as if it were - nay, indeed it was - another treasure. “Ha! A fey’s bag of tricks truly goes deep. But eventually you’ll run out of both magic spells and attire, my seductive Seelie. Now-“ Bruce tossed the detached chest piece aside and readied himself. “Let’s see if you can handle this: Flurry of Blows!” Bruce rushed at her, hardened cock bouncing and iron fists firing off! An elbow whisked through her pink hair, a punch grazed her tits, then-

GRAPPLE!

Bruce caught the fey and slammed her against the ropes. “Gotcha!” Bruce’s heart was hammering, and he was on the verge of laughing as if he had just won a silly game of tag. But Bruce somehow knew that there was a much bigger game going on here, and even if he didn’t know exactly what it was yet, he knew for certain that he wanted to win it more than anything. Bruce drew back one fist, coiled up his muscles, and launched a body shot straight for Shimmerlace’s stomach!

[Malkavia]

"Oh shall I indeed Brucie~?"

Whoop, there went a fist right through where her head once had been. Pity she wasn't there no more. Shimmerlace held her hands behind her back and gripped one wrist in the other hand—like a tap-dancer crick-cracking out a straight-backed jig while she ducked and jumped and spun around her man.

And of course, she might dance, she might grin, but she listened too, with wiiiide open ears, so she heard the crewmaters in the stands. Each man! Each woman. Falling over themselves to the beat of her drum and the kick of her whims. Mary Joseph and Holy Fucking Menace. She grinned like the devil himself was working the fiddle to which she jived.

"Shall my spells run dry, my tricks wear thin, my enchantment curdle and sour? Oooor is SHIMMERLACE!" She even threw a little hop into her weaving. Just for the balletic grace of it all. "Just glamor ALLLL the way dow—"

And then he got her arm in his grip. His rather strong grip.

"Er—"

She had a move for that, a quick spin and shift of the leverage—

Except he slammed her against the ropes while she was mid-twist, and then it was him and her and no room what so fucking ever for the Holy Ghost. "...Fuck—"

When the bomb dropped, it hit her square in the solar plexus, and hard. Hard enough to make her wish she'd executed a few hundred more sit-ups in the past month. The force rocked through her body and made her crumpled into Bruce, since knees are cowards and break first when the body starts to rout. The only thing holding her up then was her grip on the ropes and Bruce's body pressed to hers.

Her voice, when it came, was a choked kind of whisper, like it was scraped across some sandpaper before it got through her throat. "You God damned shit-head..."

She was not going to be sick. Nope. Not if she could help it. She looked up at Bruce, and found her mouth was still stuck in that cheshire grin, despite the roiling pain.

Well, Mom always did say it'd get stuck that way if she weren't careful...

[Out_Of_Ramen]

Bruce had rushed to catch Shimmerlace in his arms as soon as he saw her legs give out. Not a great idea, since this fairy was tough as an Emerald Forest tree and could return the favor any moment, but damn if he didn't like the feeling of Shim's face on his chest as half her bodyweight leaned on him. Her body was nearly flush with his. He felt the tickle of her smiling lips buried in his naked chest and the rush of her hot breath blowing down his abs. He looked down at her head nestled against his collarbone as he dipped his nose into her sea of pink hair, letting himself be suffocated on the smell of the sweetest fucking strawberries. Just... fuck.

Bruce wished he could just stay like that with Shimmerlace for just a minute longer. Maybe even two. Fuck it, you could give the man two hundred! But when she looked up at him with that big Cheshire smile etched on her face, a spit stringing from his collarbone to her chin, that's when he knew. Yeah, probably right then, he knew for fucking sure as he leaned his forehead against hers, chests heaving in tandem: "As long as there's a fire burning in the Nine Hells, I'm gonna catch these wings. Fuckin' count on it."

Bruce held Shim up with one arm while the other retreated from around her back and coiled back into a fist again: time to take the message to heart with two more punches to the gut!

WHAM! WHAM!

And let's seal the infernal deal with an uppercut to the kisser to knock her down and out for damn sure!

POW!

Gonna catch these wings with two more punches to the gut!

[Malkavia]

Absolutely merciless, the devilish old fuck.

The first punch had knocked the wind out of her sails. The second and third splintered her hull. Her feet lifted off the ground, then fell back to the mat pigeon-toed and trembling.

Did she scream, wail, moan? No—but only because she was choking on her own yapper. Even breathing betrayed her. When she finally found her breath, it wheezed into her like the death drags of a spent crone. Spit ran down the left side of her jaw, thick and sticky, and a cool sheen of sweat beaded on Shimmerlace's face. Morning dew in the fey bedroom was a thought that slunk crazily through her head.

Her grin had subsided into a more pained expression. Grit teeth, wide nostrils, wider eyes—which were still locked on Bruce's. The corner of her lip trembled and her cheeks burned bright pink.

It would have been hot as a Hell if she weren't shaking. Fuuuuck but she hated the trembling.

"...F-fair pla—"

CRACK!

Right across the ol' jaw. The last thing Shimmerlace knew was a firecracker of pain sparking into her cranium like she hadn't experienced since Angelina frankensteinered her brain against the deck of a cruise liner, almost six months prior. Then all that was left was a high pitched ring, the god damn radio tuned to the wrong station.

What the crowd saw was Shimmerlace collapse into Bruce's arms, fingers limps, the toes of her boot dragging on the mat, as graceful as a blow-up sex doll. And they roared their stygian approval.

[Out_Of_Ramen]

Bruce held the dazed fairy in his arms, gingerly holding her aloft as if he wasn't the hellish fiend who had just knocked her noggin out. Finally, the cheeky fairy had shut the fuck up. But when Bruce looked down at the sleeping pair of wings in his claws, he felt a pang of nostalgia for that smiling, shit-talking pink cunt that she was just a moment ago.

Bruce steeled himself from whatever crazy feelings were building up in that foolish mortal heart of his. Now's the time to take the W while this dangerous fey is Incapacitated, right? But when he looked down and saw that smile return to Shimmerlace's face as she daydreamed about some silly shit, no doubt, he couldn't hold back anymore.

Bruce dipped Shimmerlace low like he was in a Hollywood movie and kissed her hard on the lips like the smitten devil that he was. Bruce's crew stopped whatever shenanigans they were up to and went more wild than the crowd.

"LET'S FUCKING GO, KING!"

But one of the imps was out of sync with the others:

"W-WHAT THE FUCK, BOSS!?"

Hannya's draw dropped along with Shimmerlace's body as Bruce dipped her down into the biggest smooch she'd never seen him give anyone ever before. Devil Girl felt the deadly sin of envy douse her hellion heart in ice. "I-I've... we've been helping Boss train for weeks for this fuck fighting shit. And his lips ain't ever... with any of us! So, like, what the fuck is going on??" Hannya bit the tip of her thumb until it bled while her friends howled their hearts out for King's first honest kiss in a damn hot minute.

Bruce dipped Shimmerlace low and kissed her hard on the lips like the smitten devil that he was

[Malkavia]

What Bruce interpreted as a smile on Shimmerlace's face was, in reality, a complete evacuation of her senses—or perhaps Bruce was correct, and the sweet numbness of unconsciousness was something that elicited a smile from the Feychild. Shimmerlace wouldn't know; once she started to wake up, she had forgotten was it was like to be under.

Waking up, though—that was a mixed experience at best. She was at first, like an animal, aware only of her most basic drives. Pain, fear, arousal, all swimming in the dark. After a few seconds, these feelings began to roost in different, more specific places. She had a body. Its jaw blared with pain while the gut churned like the inside of a paper shredder. Her head was spinning and prickly, a pincushion of sensation.

After that? More sophisticated ideas burst onto the scene in a flood. Humiliation, anger, a concept of herself and where she was and what was happening, and a whole load of nausea just boiling in her much-abused gut. In basic bitch terms—a whole load of shit piled onto her plate all at once.

"Nnnnnggfff." Her brow creased into what felt like about a million wrinkles, like crumpled up paper. Felt like a fuckin' steel wedge had been hammered into the ol' pate up there. Shit.

But—no, said fate. No self-pity for you Shimmerlace, because just as her eyes were bleerily adjusting to being sense-organs once more, Bruce wrapped her up in a kiss.

"Mmm...!" It was a bit like an unexpected static shock. She jumped, whimpered, tight as a spring. And then went...loose. "Mmmf~"

She was dimly aware of the crowd. Their catcalls, the way they shouted her opponent's name—but that was background noise. The arms cradling her shoulders were much more present. When Bruce's lips pressed into hers, Shimmerlace kissed him back, as her eyes focused and found Bruce's.

She'd go for a second kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them at the ankles, and took his shoulders in her arms. Through the haze of half-awakening, his smell was overwhelming, thick and masculine. The way he held her felt protective. Safe—like the secure walls of a home someone precious had built for her. If Bruce accepted Shimmerlace's second kiss, she would take him deep, pressing her lips once, then twice against his, her tongue soft and tentative as it pressed between his lips.