Level 3

Your eyes narrow with concentration as the third fall commences, prompting you both to emerge from your corners.

Her dark, flowing hair perfectly frames the look of barely concealed intensity in her emerald eyes, with her womanly curves now covered by an erotic sheen of sweat.

Your muscles flex and bulge in collective anticipation as you both engage in the traditional circular dance, remaining just out of grappling range but close enough that you could sense the hunger and slight desperation in the other’s eyes.

Someone’s going to get fucked and someone’s going to get their arms raised in victory while doing the fucking.

And you intend on being the latter.

“I gotta give it to you, John. Of all the men I’ve faced and fucked in this ring, I think you’re going to be my new favorite,” she finally tells you, sporting yet another one of her smug grins.

Keeping your guard up, you respond warily, “And why is that?”

Pausing in place, she tilts her head to the side and recalls in a cheery and nostalgic tone, “There’s just something so….satisfying about fighting a grown man, making him tap- repeatedly of course, and then letting him feel what it’s like to be the bitch for a change. It’s actually quite liberating, knowing that you’re the one wielding the big dick, literally and metaphorically speaking naturally.”

You raise an eyebrow, but she continues on with sneering arrogance, “But, there’s just something about you, John. Something so innocent, so adorably naive about how you somehow think you can do what men twice your size couldn’t. How you think you’re man enough to take me down.”

“Well, I’m man enough to try,” you think to yourself sheepishly, before smartly thinking of something much more manly to counter with aloud.

“I don’t just think Kayla; I know I’m gonna beat your cute little ass,” you tell her confidently, before deciding to really amp things up, “Just like everyone here is gonna know what a little slut you are once I’m done putting you in your place. And by the way….

Relishing the irritable wrinkle in her otherwise flawless grin, you give her a wink, “The safeword’s ‘Daddy’.”

Crossing her arms, she dismissively tosses her hair to the side in an undeniably attractive manner before stating coldly, “And how exactly do you intend on doing that, rookie?”

“Well…” From that moment on, you let your actions speak for themselves.