Time to move on

"Thanks, but I guess I need to save my energy," you say with an apologetic grin, as you stand, grab your clothes, and begin to get dressed.

"Your loss, sugar," she says, shrugging, and strolls over to the door where the redhead is waiting impatiently, "Good luck! You show those stuck up bitches what for, tiger!"

You smile and say thanks as they leave and you finish getting dressed, your hard on thankfully subsiding. As you finish tying your laces, the room is suddenly plunged into darkness, apart from a red emergency light glowing above one door. You fumble around in the dark until you find the handle, open it, and step through to find yourself in another of the labyrinthine corridors that seem to riddle this place. How big is the Battle Fuck building, exactly? you wonder as you wander down the dimly lit hall. Eventually, you find yourself at a small white room with a thick red carpet, a potted rubber plant, a thinly padded bench, and several mismatched doors in it. Tinny elevator music plays over an unseen intercom. Well, unless you want to sit down for a while, it's time to choose your next battle!