brett hand

“The match is over! Stop this right now, or you will be disqualified!”

“Just so we're perfectly clear, Brianna,” she purred wickedly, extending her long, sinuous tongue and seductively licking a glob of cum from where it had landed on my cheek. “I have video cameras all over this little playroom of mine. I'm going to let you go tonight, but you're going to come back to me, once a week. You should be thankful for that—that's hardly anything, compared to how often you and your friends made me take care of you! But I know you have a wife now, and coming here any more than that would risk her finding out, and ruining it all. So, you're going to come back once a week, and you're going to let me do anything I want to you, and you're going to do everything I say. Because if you don't, I will send the video to your wife, and your boss, and your co-workers... everyone you know, Brianna! And rest assured, it will be a slightly edited version, showing only how eager you were for everything I just did to you, none of the parts explaining how I coerced you into doing it!

He attacked Ingram, and the two went at it again, exchanging kicks and punches while the audience cheered them on. The winged fighters were throwing everything they had at each other, with adrenaline flooding their veins and the blood steaming as it flowed from their wounds. Every lesson they had ever learned, every technique they had acquired, every spark of experience they had, they directed into their moves, punching and kicking as hard as they could, with mana roaring around their limbs.