Make Cala admit defeat

“Do you surrender?” Thyra asked as she pressed the beautiful elf into the ground.
“Yes!” Cala answered, and Thyra got off her.
“Good fight.” Cala said as she got up and adjusted her loincloth, covering up her vagina, which Thyra could swear was moistened.
As for herself, she was gushing by now, but no one mentioned it, even though most of the other gladiators eyed her with a certain degree of lust.
Now, Thyra was issued a loincloth herself, a leather jerkin, which pushed her tits upwards, making them stand almost straight out into the air, and a pair of sandals.
She was allowed to pick her weapon herself, and felt that a sturdy battle-axe was a proper weapon.
As the training continued, Thyra showed great proficiency with the axe, swinging it with ease.
When it was over, Thyra was taken by the others to a building a few hundred yards from the Arena, where they were quartered, and showed to a room that she could use.
It was far from luxurious, the furniture being a leg-less bed and a chest by the bed, a table stood against one of the walls, with two chairs.
It was late in the afternoon by now, and Thyra felt her hunger rise.
She could always stay here and get some food made by the others, but she was curious about Gordor.
Either way, Thyra was still aroused from the fighting, and she could do with some release.
Maybe she should go down to the stables attached to the house and have a little fun with the centaur? She smiled wickedly at the idea.