Blue Thunder Mask vs. Devine - Freak Like Me

Match Type: Hardstyle Hentai
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, Submission, or KO can only be obtained after forcing opponent to reach orgasm.

There were days when Chidori Asato loved her job, and days when she really loved her job. This day would definitely have to qualify as the latter.

Being a referee in Tension was many things, but rarely boring, especially if you were a woman like her. Someone  who loved female domination. Someone who enjoyed the sight of a man on his knees, being humbled by a strong woman. For her, she got to watch each match at the best seat in the house. Every scream sounded so crisp and clear, and she swore she would never get tired of seeing a man’s face as a girl squeezed the life out of him.  She could be impartial, she could be fair, and she’d never cheated a guy out of a match he was supposed to win - not that she needed to, most of the time. But that didn’t mean she was without her preferences.

Today, she’d certainly drawn a lucky number, because she was sent to one of the private rooms for an untelevised match. So, when Devine and Makio opened the door and strolled on in, she was already there. Waiting in the middle of the ring. A knowing smile on her face, well-aware of the privilege.

”Oh, look at that!” Devine was practically glowing as she made her way in, pointing off towards the ring. ”We’re expected. Proactive, I like it.” She skipped in and motioned for Blue Thunder Mask to close the door behind them. ”So!” She walked backwards and slipped her jacket off, tossing it to the far side of the room. ”I’m guessing a nice, sweet little Paragon of moral decency like yourself doesn’t watch too many hentai matches. Do you know how a hardstyle is supposed to go?”

Blue Thunder Mask glanced back into the corridor as he slowly shut the door behind them as he was asked to. A last look at the outside world before confining himself in a large cage with the woman that wanted to end him tonight in more wants that one along with a witness. As the door clicked shut, it was far more audible than it should have been in the still room.

What happened here tonight would in theory stay between the three of them. Nothing more than unsubstantiated word of mouth. If he lost the world would know though. Makoto would shout it to the furthest reaches of Japan and beyond. If he won? Eventually people would forget this was anything but a stepping stone on his path to victory.

“I haven't watched any in fact” He followed along behind slowly, reaching back to work off his mask. He wouldn't be doing a match of this nature in it out of simple respect for the legacy associated with it. Makio broke off the path to set it down on a seat along the ringside. He shook out his hair, rubbing his face with his palm.

“I’d appreciate a rundown of the rules. Preferably before we start, no examples needed.” He eyed Devine, it was clear he was trying to loosen up a bit, but the context and type of match seemed to have him on edge. Far more than he had been any other time the two of them had been face to face.

Devine pouted as Makio took off the mask, setting it off to the side with delicate care. The thing was precious to him, she got that and didn’t begrudge it, but truth told, she’d been looking forward to fucking him with the mask on. Not that he wasn’t handsome without it - great form that wouldn’t have been out of place in a muscle magazine, smooth skin, hair that was just long enough for a good grip, sparkling eyes, a real heartthrob. But she was a woman who liked her kinks.

”If I win, I’ll have to talk to Makoto about borrowing that.” She threw him a sly wink, before she hopped over to the ring and slipped out of her shoes near the steel steps. She wasn’t exactly dressed for a match, with her tight jeans, but she didn’t have a problem fighting barefoot. Somewhat preferred it, actually.

”No example. Cute.” She waved one of her well-manicured, blood red fingernails his way, before nodding towards the referee, as she daintily made her way up the stairs. ”Do you mind, sweetie?”

The referee nodded and eagerly turned Makio’s way. ”A hardstyle hentai match is similar to a regular hentai match. The only addition is that, in order to win, you must also pin, submit, or knockout your opponent after making him or her orgasm. Simple.”

”Simple.” Devine chirped and started sashay her way over to the corner, only to stop halfway there when a question occurred to her. ”Wait, this isn’t your first time, is it? I mean, your first time?”

Oh please, oh please, oh please…

Makio made his way down to the ring, eyes wandering the empty room quietly as Devine chatted away. "You don't need to worry about that. You won't be winning, neither will she. I'll give you a hard no on borrowing my mask, since you'll be reporting to me after tonight anyway." The first real step to victory was envisioning it. Living it. He wasn't going to get very far if he kept second guessing himself every step of the way. He had plenty of reason to be skeptical of his chances, but worrying about it wouldn't do him any good.

He grabbed hold of the middle rope, pulling himself up onto the apron as Devine made for the stairs instead. He placed a boot on the middle rope, pushing it down to give the woman plenty of room to get into the ring. A gentleman to the end. How sweet. He glanced towards the referee, nodding along with her match description. He could work with that. He didn't really have a choice. It certainly gave him better odds than whatever a non-hardstyle match would be. Still, he had to be careful. This was Devine's match of choice. He had to imagine she must be good at it.

He quirked a brow, eyeing Devine at the question. Did he really strike her that way? Wow. Okay Devine. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell." He stated simply, perfectly fine giving her a non-answer. He didn't much care what she thought either way. He certainly wasn't going to discuss what he did behind closed doors with her, or the referee, right before they did a match like this. Come on now, a little bit of tact ladies.

Devine could be silly at times, a flirt by nature, but even she wasn’t outlandish enough to think that Makio would actually divulge his sexual history to her so easily, if ever. That was fine. She liked the tease, regardless of the results, and it served the purpose of keeping him off guard. Strategy. Yeah. That was it.

”A gentleman, hm? Just asking, just asking.” She ran her toes along the canvas and drew an invisible line in the sand between them. ”I have a way of taking the ‘gentle’ out of the ‘men’ who come across me. Let’s see how long you last, shall we?”

She took a moment to stretch and lifted her long, lithe leg up, holding it high into a perfect split. Showing off her flexibility, getting into a good headspace. She wasn’t cocky enough to not know what she was up against - Makio was a real wrestler. Skilled. Tested. Enough to beat Makoto, despite her protests. Even with the match type suiting her so well, this would be a challenge.

Not that she minded. Sex and fighting were both better with a bit of sweat.

”Wrestlers, ready!” The referee held up her hand looked between the two of them, then brought it down hard to slice the air. ”Begin!”

The second the referee moved out of the way, Devine closed the distance and swung her leg up fast, attempting to strike Makio in the head with a high kick, wanting to ring his bell fast.

He stood opposite Devine, still dressed in his usual ring gear. He wasn't about to strip himself down willingly, not without their being a rule in place. He tapped the toes of his boots to the canvas, making sure everything was firm and snug. She had the build some someone fast… flexible too as his eyes followed the full extent on of her leg.

He gave his head a small shake, he had been staring a bit unintentionally. Part of him wanted him to relax and enjoy this new experience. How bad would it really be? The other half was dead set on keeping things serious, professional. The private nature of the encounter was making it hard to keep things grounded in the reality of the situation

“I’ll last…” Makio folded his arms, peering upwards as he stroked his chin. He hummed thoughtful, considering for a moment. “...however long it takes me to put you down I think.” His eyes settled back on Devine flashing her a boyish grin.

Makio rolled his shoulders as he slowly settled back into his normal stance, shaking his hair out one last time. He watched the referee’s hand, though it was a mild presence in his focus on Devine. He couldn't afford to draw this match out to learn her style as he would normally. He had two more matches after this one.

He had been so ready to charge, when when given the go to fight, it didn't register right away. For all his life his bouts started with a bell, one that wasn't here he had been so focused on that. When Devine charged it caught him by surprise, the chop, the referee’s words all snapping into place. MOVE!

Instinctively he leaned away, arching his back as the kick swept right past his face, clipping the tips his hair. He jaw clenched, clearly anticipating being hit by the kick, though he had lucky gotten free from its path. It did however leave in in a bad place. He hadn't even stepped back when dodging, he didn't have time. This left him off balanced. Once the leg had soared past, he would only then be able to step away in a stumbled step to try and correct this.

”I think this is a bad idea.” Stone spoke through a huff, looking down at Makoto. Always looking down, with her. ”Just letting you know.”

Makoto and Stone waited outside the private room, leaning against opposite walls on both sides of a long corridor. Makoto stood near the door, wanting to be close enough to hear if anything went seriously screwy inside. Stone stood on the other side for the corridor, staring at Makoto with those annoying, judgmental eyes that so reminded her of her mother. Which was weird, since her mother was half Stone’s size, not blonde, and, well, Japanese.

Makoto groaned. The third time she’d had such a groan in the past three minutes. With her arms folded, she leaned her head back and sighed. ”Have a little faith. Devine can handle the boy scout.”

So far, Devine was handling this well enough. Granted, she’d only launched one, single attack, and it hadn’t even connected, but she was less than ten seconds in and she had a talented wrestler staggering away. Not bad. She could keep rolling with it.

Devine didn’t even need to bring her leg back down - she merely dropped it down, spun about and swung her leg again as she leaped forward, swinging the tip of her heel towards his chest.

Even managing to plant a foot back behind him, he didn’t have nearly enough time to slip out of the way as Devine pressed the attack. Of course she had to be a kicker. Brawlers like Makoto weren’t uncommon. Especially in the more western leagues he had participated in. He was use to that. He was accustomed to traditional professional wrestling in general. Still, many of the newer strong style trends and things that leaned more into the fields of martial arts were not his thing and it showed.

Makio brought his arms together , wrists and hands blocking his face while his forearms covered a section of his chest. Devine’s heel sunk into his meaty arms, finding solid resistance on first impact. Another staggered step, more lost ground. This time however he had ended up in a better place, one that enabled him to press back.

He knew he needed to get in on Devine. If he could grab hold of her, he was almost certain he could control the match from there. She likely knew that much as well and would be waiting. He could risk a lunge, the distance wasn’t too great. He doubted she could managed to catch him with another kick. The issue was if she moved and maged to get behind him before he got his footing back. No, he needed to work his way in while maintaining his footing.

Makio dipped to the same side Devine’s current kick had come from, using her natural recovery to provide him an easier entry on her. While there was no need for flash without a crowd, he needed momentum. He pivoted on his heel, spinning his back briefly to Devine as he whirled around, stepping in at her as he finished his rotation to bring down a thunderous knife edge chop down at her chest.

Stone had a gruff grunt at Makoto’s reply. So, they were going to be difficult about this, play this the hard way? Great. ”That’s not what I mean and you know that’s not what I mean.”

”Oh?” Makoto cocked his head to the side and took a step forward, almost like she was about to lunge, a move that made Stone shift in preparation. She didn’t attack. She didn’t move further than that. But she could have. ”Because you know what I think is a bad idea? Someone putting ideas in Makio’s head behind my back.”

She took another step forward. Almost a stomp. ”Or am I supposed to believe he got that little idea out of thin air?”

An interesting question. One that Devine wasn’t pondering, as she had more fun things to do. Things like kicking Makio around the ring. Which wasn’t going so bad, all things considered.

”Oh!” She giggled as the kick found some impact on his chest and and sent him reeling away. ”Nice hit. Did I-”

Whatever taunt she was working on got interrupted as a knife-edge chop struck her hard in the chest. She yelped, hissed, and went flailing away, nearly hitting the referee as she stumbled. She hit the ropes and that was where she stayed for the moment, hissing as she grasped her chest. Nice shot.

Aggression was the name of the game tonight, and with Devine's momentum coming to a screeching halt it was time to push on. As the woman stumbled back, he was right after her. He took a small detoured, jerking off to the side to avoid the referee who was scrambling back from almost being bowled over by his opponent. "Look out now, coming through!"

His boots thumped against the mat as he charged the remaining distance. When Devine hit the ropes he was there already, slightly off to her side. Makio brought his leg up, outstretched nearly horizontal to drive his knee and thigh across her midsection, throwing some extra force behind it.

Makio was trying to bend her forward, wanted to set her up. If she was folded inward, her brought his arms around, trying to hook Devine’s arms behind her back. He’d give them a quick pull, a stretch meant to kill resistance as his palms pressed to her back to hold her bent over.

Stepping from the ropes, he would drag her if needed before throwing his weight back trying to launch her over his head in a release underhook suplex. While Devine might be messing around and having fun, it was pretty clear this was just as serious to him as any other match. The stipulations didn't matter, yet. He didn't need to actually make use of any of that until it was time to win.