L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Bruce was unaware of Shimmerlace’s fast-approaching charge as he languished in recovery on the ropes. The pain in Bruce’s groin had started to ease up, but his head was still ringing like a bell tower. Suddenly, a white and pink flash flew above Bruce's head. A half-dazed Bruce looked up in awe at Shimmerlace perched upside down on the ring post, her face aglow with excitement. Shimmerlace's tits jiggled from the acrobatics and her pink hair drooped down onto Bruce's face. "Hey, that tickles!" Then, Shimmer's whole body tensed up like a viper, preparing for a devastating strike. Bruce was totally unprepared for the hammer of the Bronco Buster that was about to come down on him, until…

Bruce looked up at Shimmerlace perched upside down above him

Brooklyn boy: "Boss! Those thighs are gonna Thunderclap you!"
Bruiser: “Ironhide, King! ARMOR UP!”

The imps' warning came just in time! Bruce snapped out of his daze. Shit! She’s coming down—no time to dodge. But... Bruce roared: "I can take it!" The pink mallet dropped, and Shimmerlace's thighs arced down toward Bruce's face. Bruce braced himself as he took the Bronco Buster head-on!

"OOF!"

A tough hit to swallow, but Bruce's fiendish resilience tanked the blow! And now... Bruce had Shimmerlace right where he wanted her. As Shimmerlace's lower body made contact with Bruce's face, Bruce's arms raised up and latched down onto Shimmerlace's quadriceps, locking her thighs down on top of his shoulders. "This wee ember's caught fuel... now it's time for a bonfire." Summoning his inner fiendish strength, Bruce stood up and hoisted Shimmerlace high on his shoulders. Bruce greedily buried his face in Shimmerlace's crotch as he carried her away from the ring corner.

Bruce stood up and hoisted Shimmerlace high on his shoulders

Bruce unburied his face from Shimmer's pussy and snickered up towards the trapped fairy. "What's the Cheshire grin all about? Having fun, huh? Well, me too. I haven’t been manhandled like that in a while. But, a devil knows how to take lots of punishment... and give it!” Bruce kissed Shimmerlace below the belt before he slammed her down back-first towards the mat with a Powerbomb!

Bruce kissed Shimmerlace below the belt before he slammed her down back-first towards the mat with a Powerbomb!

It never got old—the dreamlike stillness of the sky. Slingshots, Moonsaults, Shooting stars. Who looks at the stubby-fingered, awkward bipedal little fleshbag that is the human bean and says Ah yeah, that there, that animal can fly! Yet here was Shimmerlace, hair all agog for the half second she was frozen midair.

And it hit, too. With a crunch and a bang. You couldn't always count on that. She sighed, hand around his horn, as a feeling so lovely it almost ached fluttered up her tummy. That feeling dissipated quick when the powerhouse below began to rumble.

"Eh...

Fuck sake, is he even fazed?

The mood in the wind shifted. When Bruce stood her up, it was a good few feet higher than that bronco buster had lifted her. She was the peak of a tower overlooking the ring, the crew, and the cruel blue mat below. A leaning tower at that, one what shifted on sand in a way that made her insides pucker. The sky was a fickle and cold expanse and more than once had slammed its sorry knee into her gut.

"Sure, suuure. Now listen here, ya saw-billed fuckface of the Nine Hellsssssss..."

The thing of it was—there were ways out of a powerbomb position, right? And Bruce held that tower a mighty long time while he whispered his devilish wiles to her. She should have been able to slip something through—except. She looked down. She caught his gaze. The smolder behind his eyes, the embers in his grin. When those deep irises locked onto her own, something in her gut froze. Cold. Hot. Both. And when he pressed his lips between her legs and she spied his tongue pressed into the thin fabric over her nethers, she melted again. Trembly-like.

That was, until he tore it all down and slammed her back into the mat, and spittle erupted from her lips and splattered her face and the breath went WHOOSH out of her throat and the whole wide world started to ring as your Feychild curled up in a pink puffy cotton-ball of shocked ow. Legs crossed over the tender place he'd just violated with his tongue.

Bruce stood tall over his stunned quarry as she writhed from the shock of the powerbomb. Bruce looked down at Shimmer's pale thighs as they delicately shifted and squeezed together, covering the tender area underneath her black bottoms where he had just kissed her.

Kissing Shimmer on the lips was a wild ride for the taste buds, and her lower lips were no different. The taste and smell of that brief sampling of Shimmer's covered pussy still flooded his senses. Bruce wished he had held Shimmerlace high up and in his face even longer.

"Damn, I can't wait to taste her some more..."

Bruce quickly realized he was blurting out his inner thoughts like an idiot.

"I mean, how'd you like the taste of that? Ready for some more? Ha ha ha!"

I caught myself slipping again. That damn Fey charm is distracting.

Bruce massaged his sore cock, aching in more ways than one. Earlier, Bruce's pre-match boner got killed when Shimmerlace hoisted him by the balls and suplexed his ass. But now, lascivious thoughts were giving Bruce his Second Wind. Bruce could feel his hidden speedo hidden behind his pants start to strech out again, his cock getting hard at the thought of all the parts of Shimmerlace's body he had yet to explore.

"You grabbed a devil's precious jewels and sheathed his sword prematurely. That's... an infernal high crime. You are due for some serious punishment."

Bruce's wide grin showed off his serrated teeth as his lustful eyes traced the path from Shimmerlaces boots, up her exposed thighs, and on to her spankable ass, held tight within her black bottoms.

"Heh. But, an untamed Fey like you won't come quietly. What to do..."

Bruce's crew called out: Mace! Mace! Mace!

"Yeah! Good call!"

Bruce flexed his right arm and slapped his elbow.

"Time to bring the hammer down and beat this wild Fey into submission. Here it comes, Shimmerlace!"

Bruce ran towards the stunned Fairy, leaped high above her, and fell down with an elbow drop aimed right at her covered navel.

Incoming elbow drop!

Aimed right at Shimmer's covered navel

For a beat there, she heard the ocean—or was it an airline jet? The sound crashed over her eardrums, same as the static scrolling in front of her eyeballs. She swam a loop-de-loop, pleasantly weightless but for the long needle of pain down the back of her neck.

Then her soul got sucked back down to the mat, where the air was heavy, and she could hear Bruce's voice piped in over the rush of waves.

"You grabbed a devil's precious jewels and sheathed his sword prematurely. That's... an infernal high crime. You are due for some serious punishment."

One of her eyelids hung lower than the other. There was a funny something swimming around in her chest—a pink, slithery, happy something that jumped when she heard a devil's precious jewels. He's pretty serious about this devil business, isn't he?

...By the green beard, though, he certainly gave her time to recoup. The real challenge was just holding still for such a stretch. Not a popping a grin at the crew, not heaving a laugh at untamed fey. Fuck. Part of her wanted to just sit right up and join the commentariat. But no—possum was the name of the game. And soon enough, Bruce gave her the opportunity to flip.

It wasn't so much that Shimmerlace predicted the elbow drop as that it was announced to her. She rolled out of the way and kipped to her feet as he slammed an empty bit of mat.

If she avoided his missile, she'd stretch one of her arms, pop a slanted sort of grin, and then wait for him to catch his feet.

Bruce landed with a solid THUD against the mat. Damn! His emerald eyes followed his prey as she deftly rolled away in a mass of pink and white. The Fey had avoided his stiff, massive blow. From his prone position, Bruce looked up and over towards the fairy as she stood up, stretched, and popped a grin. So damn cheeky. But he loved it. Bruce rose to his feet, produced a teeth-baring grin, and stretched his hamstrings.

“Feigning Death, I see. Clever.”

Bruce took in the sight of his prey once more. From bottom to top, the exotic creature was clad in attire truly fit for a seductive, tricksy Fey. Those white boots that fooled the eyes and made her legs magically longer… those black bottoms that guarded that delicious heart-engraved pussy… that perfectly fitted one-piece that mocked a devil with its heavenly white glow… that collar with pink petals that was begging to be yanked… Bruce’s heart beat faster, but not from physical exertion.

Bruce took in the sight of his prey once more

“I’ll be honest with ya, Fey. You got my infernal engine burning something fierce. When I catch your wings - And I will catch ya – my fire’s gonna singe off that immaculate get-up. And it would be a damn shame for such fine clothes to get damaged before I tie you up and take you home.”

Bruce struck his signature posture: left hand on hip and right arm pointing confidently at his target.

“I want those garments unblemished and delivered to my trove!”

The devilish girl in Bruce’s crew jolted up like a popping ember, and her voice cracked a loud “YES!!”. Quickly noticing that she was out of line, the devilish girl blushed and quickly sat back down.

“So, as a favor in service to Hunter and Fey alike, tell me: How does a fairy remove such intricate finery untarnished?”

​​“Huh.” The Feychild’s voice was too low a hum to reach the audience. She folded her arms, cocked her head, and leaned into the ropes. Considering her eminently polite opponent.

Then she turned her head to peer out at the crowd. ​​“You lot hear that?” A grin spread across her face. ​​“This virginal fuck requires assistance in the dainty task of disrobing a lady. Oh me, oh my. Shall we assist him in his knightly endeavors?”

The pause in the match was beginning to drag, and the audience were keen on their toes to see the match continue. That just made Shimmerlace laugh. ​​“Welllll? What say ye, cuntesses of the court? Shall I slip my finger into my bra strap here and…” As she spoke, Shimmerlace shifted her right thumb under the left shoulder of her outfit, lowering it to reveal her bare skin. ​​“liberate the old girls? Give ‘em a peep at the ol’ nips?”

That got their attention. Whistles and catcalls aplenty peppered the air. Horny fucks. If she’d really wanted, she could have whipped them into a chant. SHOW HIM HOW, perhaps. But nah. She slipped her shoulder piece back up and gave one more belly-full of a laugh as her eyes turned on Bruce.

“Listen Brucey. I’m certain down in the black abyss, that kinda flattery is real clever. But for me, you’ll have to try harder. There are exactly…” She lifted her hands up with a British fuck-you, back-hand to Bruce, two fingers up. “Two ways my panties are slidin’ off tonight. One is if you get that delicious, muscled body of yours over here and figure it out your own damn self. And two is if you get down on the mat and grovel, and I decide I wanna finish by riding your face without a saddle.”

Shimmer’s hands rested on the ropes, palms up as her grin dimmed into a smile. “How do those terms suit, my dear infernal compatriot?”

So impertinent. So cocky. So fucking horny. Bruce loved every minute of Shimmerlace.

"A ha ha ha ha! Very well. I'll just have to beat you down twice as hard so I can delicately investigate every inch of that bejeweled body at my leisure."

I'll just have to beat you down twice as hard

The skin where Shimmerlace's inner thighs squeezed against her black bottoms was wet and glistened in the arena light. Bruce tasted what was left of the Fey's pussy juice on his lips from when he power-bombed her. You're dripping more than just sweat from those bottoms, aren't you? heh Bruce felt the head of his stiffening cock slip out from his speedo and brush against the inside of his leg, concealed only by his pants.

"There's no sense in keeping multiple eager parties waiting. It's time to rev up the engine!"

Bruce reached into his pants pocket and pulled out what seemed to be a red coin.

Brooklyn Boy: "Oh man! Boss brought out a Soul Coin!”
Katana Woman: "Torch her up, King!”

Bruce flipped the coin up into the air and caught it in his mouth. CRUNCH

Bruce's eyes lit up, and he shook his head violently. "OHHH! DAMN!" Bruce bobbed up and down on his feet. "Breathing fire now, Fey lass! Be careful not to get burned!"

Bruce threw himself against the ropes with renewed vigor and propelled himself towards Shimmerlace with a clothesline!

Bruce propelled himself towards Shimmerlace with a clothesline!

It was hard keeping her face smug. The more Bruce talked, the more her face wanted to melt into something...dopier. Gleaming lovebird eyes. A giggle, perhaps. Disssssgusting shit, she thought, biting the inside of her lip, drumming her fingers over the ropes. While the devil spoke, her eyes kept locked on his, but when he started getting revved up, they slid to more interesting subjects.

His Neck.
His Shoulders.
His Navel.
(God's bearded green fuck his navel—happy lil v, it was, descending all muscled and tight towards his not-so-little fella...)

Then he flipped the red coin, and it was just like a magic trick. The performer presents the mark with something colorful and quick. It catches the audience's eye so their brain can't process what's happening anywhere else. Shimmerlace's gut did a flip when his mouth closed around it.

The fuck did that do? Did he have capsaicinoid in his mouth now—a dragon's breath ready to spew? Or was just...pure showmanship?
Did it matter, if she believed it was flame?

The crowd stomped, hollered, and churned. Whatever flames that coin put in Bruce's blood, it was catching. Shimmerlace nodded, then stomped herself. "Fire breathing it is, then! Bring it hot as you can Brucey, so I can suck it up and blow rrrrright back down your gullet!"

When he charged She charged. She saw his arm and ducked. She flew across the ring, bounced her back off the rope, and sped back towards the fray.

Faster girl, come on—

Shimmerlace was quick. So was Bruce, and before she could blink they were about to slam face to pecs, but she had a plan. A plan where she grabbed his hair in two tight fits. Then she'd pull—him down, her up. Her feet would pop off the ground, her face would press into his hair, and she'd get a whiff of her sulphurous opponent's hair routine (and perhaps cologne? If she was lucky).

Then there'd be the Snap. She pictured it: Her knees curl to her chest, press against his face, and down they both go. The mat catches the Feychild's back, and her knees slam the poor devil's jaw. They called it a facebreaker.

Spoiler

Red hot cinnamon dollars. Ferrara candy. Discontinued. Hard to get. Sweet and spicy. Bruce's favorite flavor combination from childhood. Not because he enjoyed the hotness. Nah. Bruce couldn't stand spicy food. His mother would never let her tasty Filipino cooking be sullied by hot spices. No way. After school, Bruce's savory-accustomed tongue needed to be set on fire for one reason only: to wake him the fuck up, and get him hyped for a serious fight on the blacktop. No matter whether the next punch was in his favor or not, the fire would get him back up and keep him going.

Bruce's tongue and throat were ablaze as he charged at Shimmerlace. But the Fey slipped just beneath his clothesline and out of sight behind him.

Bruce barked with a grin: "There's more than one shell in my barrel!" Bruce bounced off the ropes and charged back towards Shimmerlace. But the Seele scion was already charging straight towards Bruce at full speed! "Fuckin' longstrider..."

In a pink flash, faster than Bruce could react, Shimmerlace grappled onto Bruce. She quickly kissed and sniffed Bruce's cap before she dragged his face down onto her knee. The smell of burning wood and chestnut from By the Fireplace cologne filled Shimmerlace's nostrils as Bruce reeled from the face breaker.

For a moment, Bruce stood. But then he stumbled. "Oh..."

Bruce put his hand on his hand. "heh. Comet's icy tail got me good." Bruce crumpled to the mat in a heap of ebony and muscle.

Bruce crumpled to the mat in a heap of ebony and muscle

Dazed and confused, head throbbing. Bruce rolled onto his back. The outline of his toned abs and pecs stretched out against his skin as his body arched in pain. Bruce gazed up at Shimmerlace with eyes upside down, half-open: "Hey, miss winter eladrin. Good hit. Just gimme a minute... I'll show you a hot summer... a summ.." Bruce's words trailed off as the head trauma set in. Hands on his head. His muscles relaxed. Bruce's body became exposed and vulnerable as he lay dazed on the mat. But, unlike the rest of his untensed muscles, the bulge in his pants continued to show plenty of vigor.

The bulge in his pants continued to show plenty of vigor

Prior matches had taught Shimmerlace to be skeptical of a sure thing—you could get the business end of a loaded wand shoved deep inside your enemy's throat, and the fuckstick still would find a way to backfire straight down your own Seelie throat.

But such was not her fate this time. There were no spikes on the mat, no botches in her form leading to agony in her hips or spine or head. Just the feeling of breeze in her cherryblossom hair as it unfurled around her and Brucey, the magic of weightlessness for that half-second fall, and then a crack that felt like a gunshot from her knees to the devil's jaw.

...There were pinkettes in the crowd. Her people. Sweet college kids with dorky lil fairy wings and glittering paint on their face. When Shimmerlace kipped to her feet, all grins as she caught her balance and brushed the dust off her skirt, the Coterist Crew a gave a holler. A whoop, one might even say. Before she knew enough to guard herself, the sound was inside Shimmerlace, spreading out warm and glittering in her chest. Which gave this...Goofy-ass smile. She glanced at Bruce, and he seemed indisposed enough for her to take a moment, so—fuck it. She shot the idiots in the crowd a wink, and then a little curtsy, too, for good measure.

(And when that made the pissants and shitheads roar all the louder, her heart melted just slightly out of shape)

But she couldn't be distracted long!
There was Man underfoot.
A beautiful, devilish Man, with loot to plunder.

Shimmerlace sidled beside Bruce, slipped one leg over his head, and stood with his face directly between her heels. He'd be getting a nice view indeed if he were conscious—and it was about to get nicer. Facing his body, she lowered herself, eyes lidded as his face settled between her legs. The stubble from his shave clung to her bare thighs, and when her pussy pressed against his face, she could feel the shape of his lips, chin, and nose against her. His breathing was warm on the exhale, cool on the inhale—a sensation that made her lips droop.

"Well, my fine feathered devil. What fine pickings we have today..." Her hips lifted, then thrust, raking her nylon-covered groin firmly across his face. Her hands trailed down his chest, over his abs, down his navel. She was crawling down his body while her legs trapped his head and locked at the ankles. She could still picture the way his face had smoldered when he smirked at her—and now when she flexed her legs, she could bury that face. Suffocate it in her smell. Her eyebrows pinched, cheeks flushed, and her hands gripped hungrily his hips. Her thumbs slid under the hem of his shorts.

Spoiler

"Bruuuucey. Brucey-butter-dee-loo..." His head shook, left, then right, as her hips swayed. "How's about you wake on up and...Gimme a lil nibble huh?"