Tomás Ferreira Vs Cleo Hulbury - Hit And Run

[GoingBananas]

***
Match Type

Accepted Verbal Submission

Victory Conditions

Victory is achieved when the loser verbally admits surrender and the winner accepts it.

Rules

• Fight shall occur in a ring without corners or ropes.

• Striking only, no submissions (apart from anything stated below) or slams.

• If opponent is knocked off outside, they must return to the ring and allow their opponent to perform any move they want on them (submissions, throws and slams are allowed in this stage) before resuming the match properly.

• If an opponent gets knocked out, they must suffer a forced orgasm penalty.

***

Tomás has all but gotten used to the word “hentai” written on the match card.

On one hand, more matches weren't bad. Gets him paid (even if he hasn't managed to use up all of the money used from the last time he was offered) and gets him active. Long has he heard of stories of others who would wish to be in his shoes right now. Not given a second thought, left in the wayside, completely abandoned after their debut. Sometimes not getting a debut at all. LAW can be a nasty business sometimes and you have to count your blessings whenever you get called up.

Plus, the hentai matches he's been in haven't been all too bad either. The likes of Dalia and Asp could attest to that. Once you get rid of the fear and allow someone to guide you through, it turns out to be a pleasant experience. However, he pines for more matches that are like with Eliza Harenwood and Blair Dame. Matches where there's nothing added onto it, no gimmicks, no additional rules. Just pure fighting. Sure, his lack of wrestling had been the reason why he has lost, thus far, but the Portuguese Pugilist would wish for yet another match like the first two.

And in this match, he would get it…sort of.

The bad news is that he's still saddled with having hentai elements to the mix. Among many other things that are added to the ruleset. But the good news is that management seems to cater the rules more to his strengths. Striking only. At least, for the majority of it. Now this is something he can get behind. He knows nothing about his opponent, but he prays that he gets the challenge of Blair, with the care and professionalism of Asp and Dalia. He's had good luck in those categories so far, but will it continue here?

Apparently, one of the added details that management was willing to give was for Tomás to have a special locker room. However they want to call it. Tomás didn't have any issues with changing in the usual locker room, but management said that they wanted to make up for that fiasco of putting him in a match at the last minute. He still has his beef with Henderson…but considering they paid as they said they would and the match with Dalia turned out alright, he'd allow management to make amends.

Granted, the special room turned out to be one of the rooms that is mostly used for bedroom matches, but Tomás could see the difference of quality. Compared to the rather rudimentary mens locker room, this was like stepping in a five star locker room. But even that is more upscale than that.

Spoiler

The man entered a luxurious room with a polished mahogany door, a room filled with lavender and eucalyptus, high ceilings, ornate chandelier, dark walnut floors, and soft ambient lighting, creating a tranquil and opulent atmosphere. The space features a grand king-sized bed, Egyptian cotton sheets, a tailored duvet, four oversized pillows, a velvet bench, and a minimalist painting. The room's refined color scheme is echoed by the soft blues and grays of the room's soft blues and grays.

The room features a floor-to-ceiling window with a picturesque view of the city skyline, slate-colored curtains, and sheer linen drapes. A touchpad controls curtains, lighting, and temperature. A leather armchair and ottoman provide comfort while enjoying the view. In the en suite bathroom, the luxury continued. Gleaming marble counters stretched across one wall, set with twin porcelain sinks and an array of plush, monogrammed towels. A glass shower enclosure took up one corner, with rainfall showerheads and wall jets promising a lavish bathing experience. The bathtub, a deep, freestanding masterpiece, was placed near a smaller window, allowing for a serene view of the stars once evening settled. Every detail—from the subtle ambient music emanating from hidden speakers to the basket of premium toiletries—whispered of extravagance, making it abundantly clear that this room was crafted for pure, unadulterated comfort.

[HotWheels]

And here Brigitte Hargrove had believed maneuvering this dangerous game by her set of rules would be frowned upon in LAW. The tricks and traps in this place ran so deeply that even the people on their administrative payroll would employ Brigitte for her particular brand of roguery. She couldn't have imagined a better arrangement, and she, though typically all grace, had to find her composure as she heard the door to the room open.

From among all the other finery, a figure twirled from where she had been silently rearranging a few oils on a dressing table, just out of view of the doorway. She fully revealed herself with quiet steps, wearing nothing but a robe and a suitably comfortable set of lingerie beneath it, leaving everything below the thighs bare. After a brief look of surprise, she clasped her hands against her stomach and gently nodded to the guest. She had employed enough maids to know what one looked like, one sounded like - not a powerful force, but meek, mild, and eager. And she had taken her fair share of acting classes in her wealth of spare time strictly for the benefits of self-improvement... or if a moment like this one arose.

Spoiler

"Mr. Ferreira," she greeted, even her voice lacking its typical deep, posh tones. "Welcome to your accomodations. I was asked to attend to you before your match begins and offer any needed services. Can I- oop!" She had never had to pretend to slip before, but she believed she did a fine job of doing so, letting her foot slide out from under her before she caught herself on her palms. Feigning embarrassment, she sheepishly lifted herself back to her feet - all part of her act. All part of the information she had been fed about this amusingly hopeless man.

Soon to be, anyway.

"Excuse me... I had dropped a bit of the oil, and I think that oil found my foot." She lifted it and massaged it as if rubbing the oil off, lingering for several seconds before returning to her more dignified pose. "Can I take anything off of your hands? Fetch you anything from the bathroom? Offer you a massage?" She let the eagerness drip heavily into her voice with the last question, and she looked him over with no small amount of feminine interest. "They mentioned you may have been feeling... tense after your last encounter, and I see it myself in your muscles and posture." She gestured to herself to indicate what she meant. Her neck, her side. She bent down to rub her calves, her feet.

"I would be happy to help soothe you."