Moving on

Minutes later two other girls enter - a short, sourfaced freckled girl, wearing glasses and her hair set in dreadlocks, and a equally taller black girl, plump and incredibly, full figured, each breast as large as her head. They're wearing plain t-shirts and dark pants and shoes, clearly low lever or trainee Battle Fuckers, girls not yet good or experienced enough to get their own arenas who have to do the menial tasks.

They stay silent as they unlock the cuffs from you. When you’re finally freed, the girls make their way to the exit, and just when the black girl was about to leave she turns back to you

“Good luck! You show those stuck up bitches what for, tiger!" She says.

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!