The Results are in.

The thunderous sound echoes through the arena, leaving the audience in a state of stunned silence. The dust settles around the two wrestlers, your body lying in a crumpled heap next to Lee's sprawled form. The referee sluggishly makes his way over, counting out the seconds with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

1...2...3...4...

You feel a dull throb in your skull, the room spinning like a tornado in a deserted carnival. Your eyes blink open to reveal the stark, florescent lights of Devin's office. You groan, the pain pulsating behind your eyes. You're not alone. Across the desk, you see Lee in a similar state, his cowboy hat askew and a hint of confusion in his gaze.

"Welcome back to the land of the conscious, you two," Devin says, his gruff voice sounding almost amused. You get the notion that someone carried you two to Devin's office where there were a couple of cots available.

You struggle to sit up, your body feeling like it's been tenderized by a meat mallet. The match replays in your foggy mind, the sensations of the powerbomb and Lee's thick cum filling your throat. "What the fuck just happened?"

"Looks like we had ourselves a tie, both of you landed a Super Kick at the same time" Tyson chimes in, his voice more chipper than you remember. "A double KO. That's a first for this old place."

You rub your forehead, trying to piece together the events. The last thing you remember was the roar of the crowd, the impact of the mat, and then...nothing.

Devin leans forward, his expression serious. "You both showed a lot of potential out there. But you gotta learn to keep your wits about you. The league doesn't tolerate sloppiness."

Lee nods, looking equally dazed. "Guess we both got a taste of our own medicine."

"Exactly," Devin continues. "Now, because of your... unique performance, we've decided to give you both another shot. You're both staying on."

Relief floods your veins. You made it. But the fight isn't over. You're in this to win it. You'll have to get back in the ring, face these challenges, and prove you're worth that contract.

"But," Tyson adds, a mischievous glint in his eye, "we're gonna have to up the ante. More intense training, more challenging opponents."

You look at Lee, who's already starting to recover some of his swagger. "Bring it on," you say, the competitive spirit igniting in your chest.

Devin nods. "Good. Because the next match we're planning for you...it's gonna be a real doozy. You're gonna have to push your limits."

Lee, ever the opportunist, smirks and says, "Oh, I know what you mean. He'll push his limits alright." He winks at you, and you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. " John here said I could fuck his ass if I knocked him out"

You are stunned for a moment, remembering that you said the only way he was fucking you was if he knocked you out, but you had meant if he won. Lee was banking on the technicality.

Tyson laughs. "Did you really offer up your ass boy?"

You gulp hard and nod, “But it was supposed to be if he won, not if we got a double knock out.”

But Devin's face remains stern. "According to league rules, if you make that offer, then your opponent has the right to collect. If you don't want to be in this position, either don't add anything extra or make sure you win your match fair and square."

The room goes silent, the tension thick as a jock strap after a sweaty match. You know what's on the line now, and it's not just about winning. Since you didn't take the fall, you worry that failing to honor your word now might cause tension with Lee.