The following is fiction. It contains themes that some might find disturbing. Please check the tags and read at your own discretion. All characters are over the age of 18.
Enter the Gauntlet
Hello again, dear reader,
We've been through a bit now, you, and you, and you, and I. You've seen some highs, you've seen some lows, some real lows, like some deep, deep lows. Well, I hope you've got a taste for going down, because I can promise the lows are only going to get lower. We're slowly approaching the reason, at least I think, why I started writing these entries and by the end of it we're probably going to have burrowed past hell. But we're not quite there yet, no, there's plenty of dropping left to do.
My match with Grunt was not much of a big earner to begin with, $5550 was downright pathetic. Now imagine how I felt when I learned I was only getting half of it, with the other half going to the guy who had raped both Gym and I for a viewing audience. Yeah, you could say I was down in the dumps, if you were born in like 1970 I guess. I was fucking depressed. I was staring at my million dollar debt and wondering if I would ever be free. And I'd won! Just imagine how Gym was doing.
Well, actually, he was doing fine. Ok, no, he wasn't fine, he had a black eye that took up half of his face and he had to be checked out for a concussion after his match. But aside from a developing grudge against Hillbilly it seemed like he wasn't even bothered by the match. At the time I was of two minds about it, one part of me hoped that Frosh's influence was keeping his spirits up. Seriously, that dude was a ray of light in a world without a sun. The other part of me worried what Alpha had done to Gym made his match with Hillbilly seem like nothing. Man, if only it was that, but we're going to have to circle back to that much later.
In the present, all of us rookies were more or less acclimatized to the Ring at this point. The rhythms we had been finding in our first week began to settle into routines. In as much as it could be in a underground sex fighting pseudo-prison things were becoming quotidian. We had our morning routines, our regular seats at breakfast (Frosh and Haulie in the middle to keep the peace), our exercise regimens. Honestly it would have been less stressful than college had been if it weren't for the, y'know, weekly sexual violence. Though even that soon became, for lack of a better word, boring.
The Rookie Showcase went on for the next couple weeks as most of us got a taste of each other. If you're disappointed that I'm glossing over my first matches with Beach Bum, C-Suite, and Octagon, you don't need to be, there wasn't a lot of fire there. It turns out, when I'm not burning with rage I'm actually not that bad a guy. Now I didn't go easy on any of them, obviously. I didn't know I was a switch yet, you see. But I was all business about it. BB went down easy, in every sense of the term, it only took a running tackle to get him down. C-Suite was more of a challenge but I had him sucking me off after a couple of minutes. Octagon I had been worried about the most when he was the easiest of them all. I just had to get his pants down and he spent the rest of the match more worried about hiding his junk than about winning.
If this had been UFC... I'd have been arrested. Ok, if this were a(n even more) fucked up UFC, I'd be golden. Aside from one barely official fuck-up I had an unbeaten record. But the Ring isn't just about fighting, nor is it just about sex, it's about entertainment. You can follow all the rules like a good little boy and win all your matches, but if you don't keep rule 0, you're fucked. And I didn't yet, but I should have been lubing myself up. In my defense, it was hard to find motivation to perform when half of my earnings got sucked off by a psychopath.
I wasn't the only one struggling. At the time, the one everyone was worried about was Frosh. Management seemed keen on breaking him in but he kept managing to slip by. First they had him up against Octagon, maybe hoping some easy prey would cure his cockshyness. It ended in another double emission, though we did get definitive proof that Oc was into dudes, so that's a kind of win. Then they tried Beach Bum, maybe going in the opposite direction and hoping BB could actually win in a fight. Frosh caught him while he was doing a gloating surf on his back and took him out with a quick jack off into his mouth. They almost left him out the week after that, but the clamor of the patrons (who wanted to see him broken in even more than management) forced them to throw him into an improvised triple-threat match with Long Haul and Harley. That one didn't go easy for Frosh by any means, he got the shit kicked out of him, but it was Haulie who ended up getting the shit pushed into him while Frosh lay knocked out outside the Ring.
Gym was the only one who was actually experiencing a degree of success. He got his first win against Grunt and a loss against Octagon that was pretty closely fought. His real breakthrough was in a match against one of the more established rookies, a guy called Gram. His gimmick was that he was an influencer, funny enough an actually pretty good skill-set for the Ring. Dude was sculpted as hell and had a face you just wanted to punch until it was concave. And Gym did just that. See it all started, as you might expect, with a fight in the weight room. I think it was over the squat rack? Either way, before he even knew what the word meant Gym was building heat and soon enough he got thrown in the Ring with a guy we all thought was going to kick and take his ass. Boy were we surprised. By the end of it Gym went from using Gram as a dumbbell to fucking him flat into the mat. Frosh and I were jumping and shouting in the green room. Even Rod was smiling as he called us a pair of knuckleheads.
For the whole week after Gym's big win I was riding a vicarious high. I was able to forget for the moment the dream of freedom and just bask in the fun of getting drunk with my buddies. But all good things come to an end, and they do so especially quickly in the Ring.
I was in the rec hall when the descent finally started. It was night and most of the guys had gone off to bed. Hill and Grunt had claimed the common room in Gen Pop and I didn't feel like dealing with the bullshit that would ensue. Plus Gym and Frosh were asleep and I definitely didn't want to be outnumbered by those assholes. So I grabbed a couple beers and settled in to watch some TV in the otherwise empty rec hall common instead. I settled in and was ready to relax to whatever HBO was showing tonight. Then a shadow crossed over me and before I knew it the couch was creaking as a massive weight plopped down next to me. Alpha God wrapped an arm around my shoulder and asked. "What are watching tonight?"
I'm not too proud to admit that I froze up. Well, more accurately I was burning up, the man was built like a furnace. Alpha was wearing a black tank top and gym shorts, point being it left a lot of bare skin that felt like fire wherever it touched me. "Hm?" He nudged me as I sat there saying nothing. My embarrassment grew as the next show came on, one of those historical dramas with a bunch of women fighting over who gets to sit next to who at dinner and everyone wants to fuck everyone else. Alpha snorted.
"This what you're into, huh?"
Now my cheeks were burning. I fumbled for the remote as if I should give a shit what this douchebag thought. Before I could change the channel Alpha grabbed the remote from me.
"Here. I've got something we can watch."
In addition to all the good channels we also had free access to all the previous tapings of the Ring. Alpha pulled up one of his matches, it was a 2-vs-1 handicap match where Alpha was the one against Bruiser and his tag partner Brawler. Those guys were tough and Alpha was throwing them around like sacks of shit. While we watched the destruction Alpha's hand snuck under my shirt, rubbing the crook of my neck. My whole body was screaming for me to run, evade, flinch away, but I would be damned if I would show any weakness. We weren't in the Ring, this wasn't a match, he couldn't do shit to me. I assumed.
"You like what you see?" He asked as on-screen we watched him force-feed Bruiser with Brawler's cock.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"I want you to answer my question." Alpha said back as he grabbed my neck, keeping me from getting up. I hated it, I wanted to flinch away, but the pain his touch caused me hurt so good. "Do you like what you see?"
"No."
"You're a bad liar."
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked with false courage.
"I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with my cash cow." Alpha said. He loosened his grip again, his finger tracing burning circles in my skin. "You looked so promising at first but now I'm wondering if I've milked you dry."
"Four wins in a row not good enough for you?"
Alpha answered the question with another question, pointing to the screen. "How much do you think I earned in that match?"
"How the fuck should I know?"
"God, you're so cute when you try to act tough." He gripped me again, but gently, or as gentle as his hands could be. "$30,000. And this is just an average match for me. Now, granted, I've got my devoted fans paying the big bucks to see me just absolutely destroy a motherfucker. But you get what I mean." He nudged me like this was some sort of banter. "What did you make in your last match? Hm? What's that?"
"$5,000." I repeated louder, trying not to shout. "Before you took your cut."
"So $2,500. That'll be, what, 400 some matches before you're out? If you keep winning of course."
"I guess so." I said. I tried to stand up but he pulled me back down onto the couch, wrapping his arm around my neck to keep me in place.
"I didn't say you could leave." He said harshly in my ear. His grip loosened but remained on my shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles in the back of my neck that made me want to cringe. I held it in. "Besides, you'd miss the best part." He motioned to the scream where he had Brawler on display in the ropes with Bruiser behind him. He was fucking Bruiser which made Bruiser fuck Brawler. Say what you will about the guy, he's inventive.
"They joined the throne after this match. Now nobody fucks with them but me."
"Lucky them."
"Hey, I get that you're not my biggest fan." Alpha said in the largest case of understatement this century. "But I want you to go far, kid. Seriously, I do. You're my cash cow. Well, you and Hillbilly. Now that guy knows how to rake it in."
"Yeah, he's a psycho just like you."
"Hah, he is." Alpha said approvingly. "He doesn't need my help."
"I don't need your help either."
"You sure about that?" When I didn't budge he feigned conceding the point. "Alright then. No help. How about a challenge instead?"
"Didn't give me much choice in your last challenge."
"I didn't, did I? Well we're not in the Ring, so you feel free to say no and I promise, I won't make things any harder for you than Management already plans to."
That made my heart skip a beat. "What are you talking about?"
"They're not any happier about you than I am. If you don't learn the rules of the Ring, the real rules of the Ring, fast? They'll toss you to the pros and make a jobber out of you. So how about this. Prove to me that you can be an earner, prove to Management that you can be an earner, and I'll drop my cut to 25%. I'll set up three matches for you and all you have to do is $15,000 across all three of them."
"What, so I just have to win them all?"
Alpha smiled. "If you can." There's a catch, there was obviously catch. But if it was a chance to lower his power over me...
"10%." I said.
"25"
"15"
"25"
See I was in trouble here because I desperately wanted to take that deal but my pride could not stand the idea of just giving in to Alpha's offer. I needed to get something out of it.
"I'll only do your challenge if Hillbilly does too." It made a sort of sense in my mind. I didn't care if Alpha or Hillbilly ended up winning as long as one of them was sure to lose. Either Alpha would lose another cash cow or Hillbilly would spend three weeks in a row getting humiliated. I tried not to think about the fact that I really, really wanted to see the latter.
Alpha's smile widened. "Y'know, that's not a half bad idea. You've got a deal."
"Only if he does it too."
I'll cut to the chase, and the real reason you're reading, and tell you that Hillbilly did indeed agree to Alpha's challenge. Which was why I was now standing in the middle of the Ring with Frosh, Gym, and Rod in the green room watching me while the announcer and Alpha were commentating.
"So why don't you explain for our audience what we should expect tonight?"
"All my loyal worshippers are in for a treat tonight! Our little guy Varsity's had some success in the Ring, but he doesn't understand it yet. So I've set up three matches for him to learn the three virtues of the Ring. Humility, sensuality, and ruthlessness."
"My, my, my, I think we all know which one we want to see!"
"All of them." Alpha said. "Tonight's lesson is humility. In the Ring there's always someone bigger, someone stronger, usually that guy's me. If you go into a fight worried you're going to embarrass yourself, you're already fucked. You don't need shame here, you need the will to do what it takes. You listening Varsity?"
I raised a middle finger into the air.
"Yeah, he's listening. I think it's time to send in his opponent."
On cue, an electric guitar started playing and the far doors opened.
"Representing the Old School, standing 6' 2" and weighing 306 pounds, he's too hot for Goldilocks! It's Papa Beaaaaaaaaar!"
'Welcome to the Jungle' blared through the arena as my opponent sauntered his way to the ring. Out of everyone I'd faced in the Ring so far, this guy's name was the most apt. Under a mess of body hair he had an almost smooth gut underneath two meaty pecs. He had thinning shoulder length blond hair and a bushy beard. He was definitely going for the dilf look with his unbuttoned plaid shirt, khaki shorts, and sneakers. I'd hoped most of that 300 pounds was fat but those hopes were quickly dashed as I got a closer look at him. Aside from his pecs he had bulging biceps and his belly proved to be that of a powerlifter's more than a drinker's. I say that, but he did come in swigging from a beer can with five more dangling from his hand.
"Hey there bucko!" He said with a deep, cheerful voice. "I hear you've been a bad boy! Looks like daddy's gotta teach you a lesson."
"You sure they shouldn't call you Santa, old man?" I shot back.
PB (Bear would describe too many guys in the Ring and there's no way in hell I'm calling him Papa, so PB it is) laughed at that. "Well if I'm Santa then you've been very naughty!"
"Let's just get this over with." I rolled my shoulders and got myself ready to fight.
"Ah, c'mon kiddo," PB said as he raised his dukes, "let's have some fun!"
The bell rung and we went to lock up. Dude was strong, stronger than anyone I'd faced in the Ring before. I managed to maneuver him into a side headlock but when I tried to do a takedown PB held firm. I tried to soften him up by throwing a couple punches to his midsection but I would have had better luck punching a brick wall. Just as I tried to move to get a grip behind him he shoved me in the chest with a big meaty hand. I flew off him and bounced off the ropes right into his open arms. A bearhug, of course. At first I worried he was going to squeeze my guts out like a toothpaste tube, his embrace was hard enough to crush my bones. But it was worse than that.
"Up and-!" He said as he lifted me up in the bearhug, up and over until with a "down you go!" he turned over, the two of us coming crashing down as his 300 pounds flattened me into the mat, all the air in me getting knocked right out like I almost was. While I lay there dazed and confused Papa Bear sat on his knees and flexed, bouncing one of his biceps. "Hah, this old man's still got it. Wuh-oh!" He said as he looked over me. He leaned down and slapped me across the face in a bit-too-hard wake up slap that knocked my head to the side.
"You still with me bud? Here."
He grabbed by my hair and started to pull me up. I saw my opportunity as I saw his untensed gut. Looks like I wasn't the only one who need a lesson in humility. I launched a fist into his stomach as hard as I could, eliciting a satisfying 'oof!' His hand dropped my hair and I punched him again, doubling him over. I grabbed him in a headlock and jumped up to get the leverage I needed to drive him headfirst into the mat. Once I had him down I kept the hold on. If I could roll him into a guillotine choke I could have him out and winning would be as simple as getting my dick in his mouth.
Now, rolling a 300 pound man over while holding on a headlock was no mean feat but with a roar of exertion I managed it. I pulled up until PB was in a sitting position and I wrapped my legs around his torso. I pulled down on his head as hard as I could until I was sweating. PB's labored breathing was a good omen. He punched me in the side hard enough to shake me but not loosen my grip. He punched again and my hold slipped slightly but I was able to keep a grasp on him. That was when I realized he had managed to get to one knee, the momentary slip had been all he needed. I cranked the hold harder but he still managed to get to his feet. Before I knew what was happening he ran pell-mell into the turnbuckle. The shock of the impact completely broke my grip on him. From there he got a hand between my legs and another over my shoulder and lifted me across his chest.
He walked me around the ring like I was made of feathers. Every few steps he dropped down, driving my ribs into my knees and rattling me up so hard it was hard to fight back. By the third blow I was almost relieved when he lifted me up and dropped me back first over his knee. Now let me be clear, this backbreaker hurt like hell, I could feel it all across my spine and I was sure I'd break in half, but it was miles better than the intermittent sudden pain. With one hand on my throat and another on my leg PB pushed down and threatened to, as the announcer was shouting, 'break him in half!"
From my position bending over PB's knee I could see the wall of Patron requests through bleary eyes. At this point I was fairly sure I was going to lose this match and I had not even thought to attempt to earn any money that way. At this rate I'd need to earn $5,000 just in requests next match and beat whoever Alpha had set up for me. While my hands fought to release PB's grip around my neck my eyes desperately sought any request that might be accomplished while also getting wiped across the mat by a sexed up muscle bear.
Facesit, armpits, take off your boots, all the usuals there and no luck. Then there were some move requests, camel clutch, torture rack, and gutbuster being the biggest on the board. Yeah, good luck with lifting this guy over my shoulders, I could maybe pull of a camel clutch if I could manage any fucking leverage on this asshole. And then there were the requests that looked like they were aimed at PB, things like spanking and whatever the fuck 'beer can' meant. Another one flashed up on the wall that I struggled to read upside down. 'Elbow to the- urk!'
PB rammed his elbow into my midsection three or four more times, I lost count through the pain, before shoving me off his knee and onto my stomach on the mat. I tried to crawl my way to the ropes but before I could move even an inch he dropped down on me with his ass landing firmly on my back. He draped my arms over his knees and meaty hands gripped under my chin and pulled my head up. I struggled to draw in breath as I could only watch as camel clutch flashed on the screen and disappeared. $300 gone.
"'atta boy! You're doing great, bud!" Papa Bear said like he was watching me run the bases instead of trying to rip my head off. "Keep holding on there!" He said as he cranked back further.
"Nnng!" I groaned impotently. My muscles strained as I tried to break his hold but I was only tiring myself out.
He let my head drop. As it hung limply he pulled off his unbuttoned shirt and tossed it out of the ring. "Alright, take in a big breath!" Before I could process what he'd said he pulled me back again, bending my back in like a bow as he shoved my face in his sweaty pit. "This is that move you like, yeah bud? Am I doing it right?" I tried to hold my breath but with my lungs already burning up when PB slammed my chest with his forearm it became too much. I breathed in a lungful of his sweaty, musky pit. I cannot stress enough how ripe his pit was and there was a shameful part of me that smelled that manly scent and wanted to drink it in. I was starting to grow hard as I breathed in Papa Bear's scent and my ears were filled with his giddy laughter.
"Keep working at it and you'll smell like a real man too one day." He said. After that he let me go again, this time face first on the mat. I lay there sucking in as much fresh air as I could before on of his hands gripped my hair and the other between my legs. With a grunt of exertion he deadlifted me off the mat and then up over his head. I could briefly see his sweat drenched body before he dropped me down over his shoulder. Oh, right, the torture rack. All my muscles were screaming at me as well as my ribs as Papa Bear pulled me apart.
"I give! I give!" I shouted. I knew it wouldn't help me at all but I shouted it anyways in the vain hope he would listen and show mercy.
"Not a fan of this one, bud? Yeah, me neither. But you have to make the Patrons happy, you remember that kiddo." He walked me over to the corner and hung me from the top turnbuckle in a tree of woe, my legs wrapped over the top and my whole body exposed. He turned around and posed with his hands on his hips, wiping away some sweat from his brow like he'd finished a hard day's work. "Whew!"
Weakly I tried to reach up and untangle my trapped legs. While I did that Papa Bear unbuckled his belt and unzipped his shorts. I'd gotten myself close to half way up when PB dropped his pants and revealed two big, round, juicy buttcheeks right over me. He sat down on my face, forcing me back down and slamming my head into the mat. He rubbed is bare ass into my face, shoving me back and forth until my nose and mouth were trapped between his cheeks. His pits might have been ripe but his sweaty ass was rank. I don't know what happens when a man's sweat meets his asshole but whatever it was it made me harder than iron. While I was breathing in more of his musk Papa Bear was sitting on me and moaning in relief.
"Ah yeah, that's nice... Hang on, wait a- that's not a toilet, that's your face!" Papa Bear was laughing like he'd just said discovered a new level of humor. He grabbed one of my hands while, through laughter, he said. "Hey! Hey! Pull my finger!" He broke into more, deep laughter that shook his body and forced his ass deeper and deeper onto my face.
"Ah! Ah man! This is too good. Hey, I'll make a deal." His voice somehow got lower, huskier. "Lick my asshole and I'll get off."
Maybe it was all the deals I'd been making already, maybe it was my last shred of pride, hell, maybe I was still just an idiot, but that was too far. I was happy enough huffing his musk when it felt like I didn't have an option but this? I guess it reminded me that I was a man, or at least I was trying to be one. I didn't have much strength left, but with what I had I turned me head to the side.
"Oh, is that how it's gonna be?" PB said as he stood up. "Looks like I've still got to teach you a lesson."
Papa Bear looked me over and grabbed at my singlet. I don't know what it was made of exactly, some sort of latex, whatever it was it tore easily as Papa Bear ripped at it with his paws. Pretty soon only shreds were left hanging from my body. Papa Bear inspected my nude body more closely. "Damn." He muttered. PB released me from the tree of woe and dropped me on the mat. I was only down for a second before he lifted me up and dropped me down guy first again over his knee.
"When I tell you to do something you better do it bud." Papa Bear said as he reached down. "Now I hate doing this," he very clearly lied, "this is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you, but you gotta learn."
I should've realized what was coming before his belt hit my backside, but the shock of it all took me by such surprise that I let out a yelp. He spanked me again and again. I was ready to give into it until I heard the announcer and Alpha.
"You think he's had enough?" The announcer asked.
"Enough? Hah, Varsity's a little slut for this kinda punishment."
That got the last ember of a fight in me to burn that much hotter. I struggled to push off PB's knee and got a forearm to the back in response that knocked the air out of me.
"Have you not been paying attention boy?!" Papa Bear shouted down at me. His belt hit my ass again, hard enough I was sure it would break the skin. He wasn't just spanking me now, he was quite literally whipping my ass.
"Papa Bear better watch out or he might break rule 2!" The announcer said in awe.
"Oh he knows what he's doing."
Papa Bear kept on whipping my ass with his belt until there were tears in my eyes. I grit my teeth and did all I could to bear out the pain. Hah, bear. Hey gotta find the humor somewhere right? With one particularly sharp strike from the belt I let out an honest to god sob. That seemed to snap Papa Bear out of it. Not for some pity, that I was sure, but he knew at that moment he'd broken me.
"Shhh, shh, shh, shh it's alright. You've learned your lesson, right bud?" He said. "Have you learned your lesson?" He asked again when I didn't respond.
"...yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes... sir."
"Good boy." He said as he gently pat my ass, which stung like hell. "Here. It's not all bad."
Still draped over his knee Papa Bear grabbed my hard dick. His fingers were rough and forceful but he held my cock tenderly. He stroked me off while rubbing my aching back. I was panting at this point from the pain and now the sudden pleasure. Part of me wanted to struggle, to try and keep fighting but my soul knew it was over.
"Let it boy. Just let it out." Papa Bear said soothingly and the bass of his voice rumbled through my body straight to my dick. I burst, my cum splattering all across the mat. "Good boy."
And that was it, it was over for me. Now it was just up to Papa Bear how he would end it. I hadn't earned a single cent.
Papa Bear dropped me on my back and sat down on my chest, his legs splayed out on either side of my head. He looked down at me and ran a hand through my hair. It almost felt loving until he harshly gripped it. "Heh, know what I was called before I was Papa Bear?" With his other hand he unzipped his shorts and pulled out the hardest, fattest dick I ever did see. "Beer Can." He pulled my head up until my lips were rubbing the tip of his massive cock. "Now I hear you've been biting guys." He said with a warning tone. "You better behave, heh," his voice dropped low and lost all of its warmth, "or this is going straight up your ass."
Papa Bear's dick isn't actually as bad as it looks but I sure as hell didn't know that at the time. So I opened up my mouth like a good boy and Papa Bear pulled my head onto his cock, letting out a low moan as he did. I barely had anything to do as Papa Bear pushed and pulled me on his cock. My mouth was his fleshlight. He'd give me guidance as he fucked my face. "Yeah, that's it, use your tongue, yeah, like that." My tongue ran across his sweat slick cock, lapping up his salty dick like a horse at a salt lick. His dick was so fat I had to spread my mouth wide to take it all. At one point he got so excited as he fucked me that my teeth grazed his skin. In an instant he pulled me all the way down, gagging me as he buried my face in his wet pubes.
"Gngh!" I choked out, trying to beg him for mercy. 'It's not my fault!' I tried to say with wide eyes. He grinned down at me over his sweaty chest. "Careful, bud. Don't want any accidents." He chided.
He found his rhythm again, fucking my face with his saliva coated cock, sometimes thrusting with his hips, sometimes forcing my head across his dick, sometimes both, bringing me to the edge of fully choking on his dick before he relented. A moaning low in his throat rose higher and higher, louder and louder as I felt his pace pick up, his dick slamming the back of my throat as his excitement rose. "Fuck!" He whispered low. "Yeah!"
With a shudder he came. It felt like a firehose of cum was shooting into my mouth, filling it up with his seed until it was all I could taste. I gagged and tried to pull of his dick but he only pulled me in tighter, forcing my face into his musky pubes.
"Uh, uh, uh." He said. "Eat your protein. It'll make you-nh, make you strong."
Papa Bear held me trapped on his dick until I did as I was told and swallowed all of his cum. Somewhere in all of that the bell had rung, not that there had been any doubt for the past few minutes. He let my head drop, some his cum still dripping from the side of my mouth, and rolled off of me. I was crawling, looking for any sort of support to myself up, and he guided me until my head was laying his lap not far from his still leaking cock. He gave me a soft few pats on the cheek. The one on my face this time.
"I really put you through it bud, but you took it like a man. I'm proud of you." He snapped his fingers and an attendant handed him the six pack of beer he'd brought in. PB twisted one free and popped the tab. "Here." He pulled me up into a sitting position with an arm around my shoulders and pushed the beer into my hands. When I just sat there staring down blankly he grabbed my hand and guided the beer up to my lips, pouring some into my mouth.
"There. It'll get rid of the taste. If that isn't your thing, heh." He grabbed another beer for himself and the two of sat there, drinking like he hadn't just been fucking my face for the world to see. He held me close and chatted with me while I numbly drank. After I finished one can I grabbed another, and a third. It wasn't enough to get me drunk but god had I wished it had.
The attendants started cleaning the ring around us for the next match and PB helped me up and walked me out of the Ring. All the while he was yapping away, telling me about how well I'd done, about his past matches, giving me tips for what to do in the future, complimenting how good I did at blowing him.
Reader, I knew I should hate this man, you don't need to remind me. In the balance between his nice words and his fucked up actions, the scales were heavy on the asshole side. But the Ring is a world to itself with its own (entirely wrong but entirely all encompassing) morality, and despite it all, my judgement, my soul, my pride, I could feel I was starting to like this guy.
Fuck me, right?
