Nothing... we are interrupted again!

You’re shifting around getting into another position so you can find a kind of pleasure that would allow you to have an orgasm, too. However, just like your night on the cliff, there’s someone coming around to investigate. Luckily, you think with your head, not your “other” head.

There’s a hectic dash towards your clothes to get dressed when you hear someone outside the tent say, “It didn’t look like it was coming from inside here.”

Only a second after slipping into your shirt, someone walks in. Arabella is tucked away in the corner, still trying to get dressed. You can deter the curious circus hand away from diving any deeper into the supply tent you used for your dirty desires and leave with Arabella closely behind.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “You couldn’t get to finish with me, master.”

Suddenly, the built-up tension from your blue-balls struck you. A lesser man might’ve ducked into a bathroom stall to crank out a load or maybe risk your neck a THIRD somewhere in public, but after looking at the time you had left before meeting Half-Gob, you thought this was a matter to plan out another time. You could use either of the twins or Arabella again anyway. Besides that, you still had to find out where your self-assumed “mat” was. Probably the hotel.

Once you’re inside the hotel, you ask one of the staff members inside if there’s a gym. The clerks behind the front counter stop chatting and help you locate it.

You expected a more extensive gym since the hotel was so big but relatively modest. Judging by the room size, you were confident they removed a wall and made this room less than 20 years ago. A small mat was probably added so guilds and other mercenaries could practice “hands-on” techniques without leaving the premises. There’s a treadmill, seemingly unused—a leather weight bench with a set of dumbbells on the side. There’s also a punching bag hanging from the wall in the deepest right corner of the room. It’s taped and looks like it was extensively used at one point in history.

On either flank are large, clean mirrors. You see yourself and scratch off some Earth-y blemishes from your face before looking around, but there isn’t anything to get excited about. That said, you’re happy to see how clean it is. The detail you notice is that the door has a lock on it, telling you that this probably was a different room before at one point or another.

It’s almost another after twelve, so you think it’s best to get dressed before Half-Gob arrives to begin the rematch. For some reason, you can’t help but feel a little anxious about the idea. Half-Gob’s close-quarters training might’ve been extensive. You wonder what a fight between her and Scarlet would look like…?

You go to your room to change out of your clothes, only ignoring the shower because you know you’re going to get sweaty again. Adorned by shorts and a white T-shirt, you return to the “gym,” finding that Half-Gob is there. She’s changed out of her clothes, too. She’s now wearing a red, backless crop top and black leggings. The fabric highlights the details of her physique as it hugs onto her. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail, but the length of her hair doesn’t allow it to be any longer than your typical pigtail. She sees you and lifts an eyebrow.

“You’re late,” she says.

You regard your watch. “By barely 2 minutes,” you say.

“I guess I shouldn’t have expected you to have the same standards,” she looks away, crossing her arms as she looks at the mirror. “So, you’re ready to get your ass headed to you again, or did you want to talk at all?”

“You’d be willing to talk?”

She smiles slightly. “Just to lower your guard. I never pull back my punches when I’m in an entanglement.”

You think she sucks in her tummy slightly, giving her muscled, well-toned body an almost unworldly picture of peak performance. She’s a snake in a human’s body but almost twice as lethal, even without the venom.

“We could place a little wager on this,” you begin, kicking off your shoes as you approach the mat. Half-Gob shrugs, inquiring what your wager might be…