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Nadiya bint Mariam crashes against the arena floor. The researcher and explorer-turned fighter groans as she pushes herself up, spitting and then rubbing her chin as she turns to face her opponent.

The person standing on the other side of their arena is a strange, but scrumptious, sight. He’s a twink of a man, but with a toned body explicitly sculpted for this battle, for he is a creation of confectionery goodness—a master of whipping up fluffy peaks and whupping ass; Baker the candy construct.

And the sight of their fight is a place of wonder as well—the front garden of an impressive house on a bright and sunny day, with just the hint of a breeze brushing through the two combatants.

Nadiya stands up, dressed naked to the waist with her fists raised for another round of fisticuffs. “I can take you on still,” she says, furrowing her brow, grunting in exertion as she steps forward, stumbling.

“No, darling. I don’t think you can,” says the battle-bodied Baker, who rushes forward, his glove-clad fist flying furiously and digging itself into the adventurer’s stomach, sending her flying off her toes, her eyes bulging, spitting out flecks of blood and spit onto the tasty treat of a man.

Nadiya collapses onto her knees, groaning, and falls forward, her face hitting the grass.

On the edge of the arena behind Baker stands a well-dressed older man. He shakes his head and says, “It would appear as if neither of you,” he pauses, a sneer rising on the corner of his lip, “distinguished ladies, are interested in speaking with the lady of the house, if you cannot take on this paltry excuse of hired muscle.”

Baker rolls his shoulders, turning toward the butler and pouting. “Oh, please. Just because boxing is a hobby of mine doesn’t mean that I’m not good at it.”

Behind Nadiya stands the cloaked figure of her manager, a scowl on her face turning to a toothy grin. “Oh, you think I don’t want to talk to your mistress? You’re mistaken, mister.” She grabs her cloak and throws it aside.

Stepping forward is a bandaged figure, her skin gray but her body full and bouncy. She steps up beside Nadiya and points to the Baker. It is the Mummy Thi’Icc—undead champion of erotic combat who boasts before the delicious duelist.

“I was just giving my fighter here a chance to prove herself. But she never went up against another Tournament Participant… well, other than me, that is.”

“We at this estate are well aware of your involvement in the Tournament of Pleasure,” says the butler. “Your reputation precedes you, Miss Iccran.”

“Not too many people call me that nowadays,” says the mummy, cracking her neck. “But let’s not waste too much time. There’s no audience here to rile up. It’s just you and me.”

Baker nods and bites the wrist of his gloves, pulling them off. He then unravels the bindings around his hands, letting them fall to the ground, much to the butler’s annoyed glare.

“You require a much more intimate touch,” says Baker.

“Glad you know how to fight on my level,” says the mummy, getting into her grappler’s pose.

Nadiya pushes herself up, remaining on her knees, whispering her apologies to her manager.

“You did your best. That’s all we can say in life,” says the mummy. “But you definitely need to rematch this guy after we’re done with our business in town.”

Baker titters softly. “All bouts I’m a part of are for the pleasure of someone else—whether my client be a participant or a viewer.”

“So,” the mummy says, taking slow steps around the baked boy. “They’re watching us right now, huh? Well, then let’s make this a show, then!”

With that roaring attitude, she rushes forward, but Baker dodges out of her grapple, spinning and then falling with his elbow going for her head. That’s when Thi’Icc whips her arm forward, her tassel of a bandage wrapping around Baker’s leg and sending him falling face-first to the ground.

Baker rolls around onto his back just in time for Thi’Icc to leap onto him, her wrapped-up tits falling onto his face. She grabs his arms, pinning him down above his head, chuckling through gritted teeth.

“Sorry, babe,” she says, “But we’re making this fight sexy off the bat.”

Baker lifts his hips, grinding against the girl above him, but directs most of his defense toward kissing the bandage-covered tits currently covering his face.

“Oh, I know this doesn’t bother you like it would a breathing man,” says the mummy, “But you and I are special, aren’t we? We don’t have the stamina to worry about. The two of us can probably go at it until one of us is destroyed!”

Baker bites through the bandages, making the mummy yelp and hop up from him. “Oh, you’re playing dirty? I like that,” she says, wrapping her bandage around his arm. She yanks him, forcing him up to his feet and clotheslining him across the neck, sending him falling back down.

Baker takes all of this, falling to the grass without showing a wince of pain, only for the immense beauty to leap down, her butt right in his face! The baker reaches up to block her, only to deflect her just enough so that she lands on his chocolate-coated chest, her legs clamping around his head, and her hand pressed against his skull.

“You can take a hit real good,” she taunts, tussling his cotton candy hair, “But can you eat a girl out with the best of them?” She asks this, a hand moving down along his tummy, hooking under his shorts, and tugging them down, letting his cock spring free and rise. “'Cause it looks like to me you’re ready for a real erotiwarrior beatdown!”

Nadiya bint Mariam crashes against the arena floor. The researcher and explorer-turned fighter groans as she pushes herself up, spitting and then rubbing her chin as she turns to face her opponent.

The person standing on the other side of their arena is a strange, but scrumptious, sight. He’s a twink of a man, but with a toned body explicitly sculpted for this battle, for he is a creation of confectionery goodness—a master of whipping up fluffy peaks and whupping ass; Baker the candy construct.

And the sight of their fight is a place of wonder as well—the front garden of an impressive house on a bright and sunny day, with just the hint of a breeze brushing through the two combatants.

Nadiya stands up, dressed naked to the waist with her fists raised for another round of fisticuffs. “I can take you on still,” she says, furrowing her brow, grunting in exertion as she steps forward, stumbling.

“No, darling. I don’t think you can,” says the battle-bodied Baker, who rushes forward, his glove-clad fist flying furiously and digging itself into the adventurer’s stomach, sending her flying off her toes, her eyes bulging, spitting out flecks of blood and spit onto the tasty treat of a man.

Nadiya collapses onto her knees, groaning, and falls forward, her face hitting the grass.

On the edge of the arena behind Baker stands a well-dressed older man. He shakes his head and says, “It would appear as if neither of you,” he pauses, a sneer rising on the corner of his lip, “distinguished ladies, are interested in speaking with the lady of the house, if you cannot take on this paltry excuse of hired muscle.”

Baker rolls his shoulders, turning toward the butler and pouting. “Oh, please. Just because boxing is a hobby of mine doesn’t mean that I’m not good at it.”

Behind Nadiya stands the cloaked figure of her manager, a scowl on her face turning to a toothy grin. “Oh, you think I don’t want to talk to your mistress? You’re mistaken, mister.” She grabs her cloak and throws it aside.

Stepping forward is a bandaged figure, her skin gray but her body full and bouncy. She steps up beside Nadiya and points to the Baker. It is the Mummy Thi’Icc—undead champion of erotic combat who boasts before the delicious duelist.

“I was just giving my fighter here a chance to prove herself. But she never went up against another Tournament Participant… well, other than me, that is.”

“We at this estate are well aware of your involvement in the Tournament of Pleasure,” says the butler. “Your reputation precedes you, Miss Iccran.”

“Not too many people call me that nowadays,” says the mummy, cracking her neck. “But let’s not waste too much time. There’s no audience here to rile up. It’s just you and me.”

Baker nods and bites the wrist of his gloves, pulling them off. He then unravels the bindings around his hands, letting them fall to the ground, much to the butler’s annoyed glare.

“You require a much more intimate touch,” says Baker.

“Glad you know how to fight on my level,” says the mummy, getting into her grappler’s pose.

Nadiya pushes herself up, remaining on her knees, whispering her apologies to her manager.

“You did your best. That’s all we can say in life,” says the mummy. “But you definitely need to rematch this guy after we’re done with our business in town.”

Baker titters softly. “All bouts I’m a part of are for the pleasure of someone else—whether my client be a participant or a viewer.”

“So,” the mummy says, taking slow steps around the baked boy. “They’re watching us right now, huh? Well, then let’s make this a show, then!”

With that roaring attitude, she rushes forward, but Baker dodges out of her grapple, spinning and then falling with his elbow going for her head. That’s when Thi’Icc whips her arm forward, her tassel of a bandage wrapping around Baker’s leg and sending him falling face-first to the ground.

Baker rolls around onto his back just in time for Thi’Icc to leap onto him, her wrapped-up tits falling onto his face. She grabs his arms, pinning him down above his head, chuckling through gritted teeth.

“Sorry, babe,” she says, “But we’re making this fight sexy off the bat.”

Baker lifts his hips, grinding against the girl above him, but directs most of his defense toward kissing the bandage-covered tits currently covering his face.

“Oh, I know this doesn’t bother you like it would a breathing man,” says the mummy, “But you and I are special, aren’t we? We don’t have the stamina to worry about. The two of us can probably go at it until one of us is destroyed!”

Baker bites through the bandages, making the mummy yelp and hop up from him. “Oh, you’re playing dirty? I like that,” she says, wrapping her bandage around his arm. She yanks him, forcing him up to his feet and clotheslining him across the neck, sending him falling back down.

Baker takes all of this, falling to the grass without showing a wince of pain, only for the immense beauty to leap down, her butt right in his face! The baker reaches up to block her, only to deflect her just enough so that she lands on his chocolate-coated chest, her legs clamping around his head, and her hand pressed against his skull.

“You can take a hit real good,” she taunts, tussling his cotton candy hair, “But can you eat a girl out with the best of them?” She asks this, a hand moving down along his tummy, hooking under his shorts, and tugging them down, letting his cock spring free and rise. “'Cause it looks like to me you’re ready for a real erotiwarrior beatdown!”

Baker lies underneath the large and imposing mummy Thi’Icc; the confectionary combatant has a face full of her mummy muff. Despite being undead, her body is as warm and supple as anyone alive, and that makes it all the easier for the pastry chef and fighter to please her in ways that he knows how.

His tongue slides up and down her labia, teasing her by spelling out the recipe for one of his secret treats. This makes the champion shudder, but she isn’t done with him herself. Instead, she has his cock exposed to the air, the gentle breeze of the Anteronian afternoon making him twitch slightly. Her hand wraps around it. With the bandages wrapped around her, the touch is somewhat rough, adding texture to her sliding up and down along his cock. She plays with him with supple speed, rolling the chocolate skin up over his head and back down over and over again, her chest heaving as she feels the pangs of delight glisten through her form, the delicate tonguing she receives.

The two of them go at it with the same energy without doing anything too differently. She squeezes her thighs against his head, and he grips those thick chunks in his hands, but neither of them relents in their giving of pleasure to the other.

“Why, this isn’t very showy at all,” says the butler, pulling off his monocle and producing a handkerchief with which to wipe it.

“That’s the nature of sexfight sometimes,” says Nadiya, her hands over her chest. The slight amount of self-consciousness rises about her now that she isn’t properly fighting. Where did she put her shirt and jacket?

After a while of this unceasing exchange, Baker grunts and shifts about, pushing his face closer to Thi’Icc’s thighs and sucking on her lips, his nose rubbing against her clit. Thi’Icc responds by placing her thumb right under the hood and swirling around the most sensitive area of the cock head.

This makes the baker gasp, and it allows the first production of pre to ooze out from him, leaving the poor man defenseless against the final assault of hand-based ejaculation.

That is, of course, unless he played a little unfairly.

And that’s precisely what he did as his sugary teeth found their way around her sensitive nub and bit down.

“Gah!”

The mummy squeezes his head tighter, gritting her teeth and grunting, speeding up her fapping. “Hey there, I like it rough, but warn a girl next time!”

He does not do such a thing, biting down harder.

Sharp pain etches through her dead-but-living form, making her arch her back and her pussy to juice up with the delight that battle gives her.

“Hey, that’s gotta be unfair!” Nadiya says, rushing up to the butler.

“There are no rules in this match other than what the two present to themselves,” the butler shrugs. “Besides, my lady does enjoy seeing some roughness in her fights here and there. It’s why she hired Baker in the first place, after all.”

The mummy hears this and smirks, her squeezing getting harder against his head. She grunts and shifts and strains against the skull, until finally there is a crack that sends his mouth flopping off of her cunt.

When the mummy lifts herself, her thighs are covered in chocolate, oozing down between her legs much like the pussy juice dripping from her sex.

Baker falls back, his head squished slightly, indented by the powerful legs. But he pushes himself up, only for the mummy to stomp a foot against his chest, making him groan as he lies there.

“No, you don’t!” says Thi’Icc. “You’re staying down there—right where I want you.”

That’s when she squats down, her sex lined up right on that still hard cock when she plops herself onto it, the thing entering into her, spreading her out, making her throw her head back in delight. “Oooh fuck, that’s good!”

Blinks and stares up, placing a hand to his bleeding head. His skull is cracked, but the shape should be fine. He huffs as he glances down, seeing her rocking and bouncing against his cock. He pants and rocks his hips against her, the fight now on its last legs. Will she tire him out and make him cum, or will she finally release herself and make him the winner? She could have very well continued to jerk him off, but this is the warrior’s way—the way to the final climax.

Thi’Icc grips the femboy’s shoulders, slamming onto him over and over again, letting out lewd grunts as she fucks him, while Baker reaches up and grabs her arms, huffing and puffing, his eyes rolling back. “Gah.. Ahh.. Haaaah!”

That was all that was left of his endurance as Thi’Icc lifts herself, revealing to the world the ejaculating mess that Baker became, shooting off his cream into the air and collapsing onto the ground, panting and huffing, even though he didn’t need to breathe.

The mummy stands up over him, planting a foot upon his stomach and lifting an arm in the air in triumph.

“Yeah! That’s how you do it!” she bellows.

Nadiya, having found her shirt, buttons the thing up and approaches her mentor. “Great job! Now we can get the answers you seek.”

“Very well,” says the butler, shaking his head. “You’ve proven yourself worthy, and the mistress is quite intrigued by your performance. You may come in and speak with her about the man that you seek.”

“He’s not a man,” says Thi’Icc, dropping her arm and stomping off over toward the manor. “He’s a monster.”

And Baker lies there, his elemental spirit leaving his confection body, returning from whence it came to his mannequin form, for the champion of erotic combat well and truly beats him.