Hanioc: The Muddy Mistress is an excellent venue for a battle in the Tournament of Pleasure. After all, one of our combatants is a regular here.
Tik Tik: Tik Tik know Baze. She big and strong kobold. Scary when can be, but great lover. Much fun, indeed, hehe, but who is opponent?
Han: Ah, yes, the mysterious “Mistress” of the Muddy Mistress. Most people assume this establishment is nothing more than a place for bets on battles of mud wrestling. However, it is actually the home of an alien intelligence far beyond the comprehension of mortals. She doesn’t even have a form that you like can comprehend.
Tik: Then, how Baze fight? How Baze sexy time?
Han: With all that she has,.


Baze steps into the shallow pool of dark liquid. The kobold’s naked and muscular frame stands tall. She scans over the seemingly empty backroom where the Mistress of the Muddy Mistress resides. “So,” she says, cracking her knuckles, “it takes the gods to get VIP access. None of my fights were good enough, were they? Figures. Well, if you got such bad taste, ‘Mistress,’ I’m gonna look forward to giving you a beating. So, show yourself, Ms. mysterious.”
A laugh echoes throughout the room, and in the shallow, starry pool, various forms emerge. The shapes of naked bodies, heaving and crying out in silent moans surround Baze. The kobold holds her ground, though she does tremble at the sight.
“Kobolds are such bothersome creatures,” a voice rose out of the mire, and the writhing, naked forms of dark star matter rise up, with one supported by the fawning shapes of the others. It might have once been a mature woman, but now it is just another silhouette. “My servant was supposed to feed one of your kind to me. Instead, she became a part of my collection as well. I shall have you, and any of these other foolish ‘Champions,’ so that all of you will have eternal pleasure within my being!”
“Well, now. Here I was expecting a good, exciting battle, but it looks like I’m dealing with a monster I need to put down for the good of everyone!” Baze cracks her neck. “Eldritch abomination or not, I’m gonna beat you! I’m gonna have fun, either way.”
The shadow figure opens its mouth wide, letting droplets of ooze fall to the pool. Hands grab the kobold’s ankles, and the Mistress rushes forward, unshackled by the supporting figures, who all sit back and watch.
Baze twists, swinging her tail at the figure. The thick appendage cuts through the Mistress’s form, and it breaks apart, splashing uselessly against Baze’s body. “Come on, you wanna make me wet, you gotta be a little less literal.”
The kobold then grabs at the wrists, tearing them apart with sheer strength. Baze turns to rush back out of the pool, but a coil of dark liquid whips out, wrapping around her neck and throwing her down into the pool.
She splashes down deep, feeling the liquid envelop her. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to close her nose, her mouth, everything. The Mistress finds a way to seep inside of her. She seeks her sex, sinking inside, brushing in and out of her.
Baze gasps, and the liquid fills inside of her, going into her throat, into her mind, her soul.
Tik Tik watches with a frown. “Baze have no chance against scary thing like this! How this fair fight?”
“The gods believe that she has what it takes. She is a monster hunter, after all. What is an unknowable force, but a stronger monster?”
Baze cannot breathe, but this isn’t new to her. She recalls the many times she’s been like this before and remembers friends lost to the corruptive power of evil. Baze cannot die, not in a tournament setting. She flexes. She plants her feet against the ground, and she pushes, she screams, she roars, lifting herself out of the mire that clings to her body. The starry muck breaks apart with flecks of slime shooting out of her throat, a roar escaping her throat. Baze’s claws break free, the mud snapping away from her, and she digs into the stuff at her chest, ripping it apart and stepping free from it and onto the platform outside of the Mistress.
The kobold collapses onto the platform, coughing up more of the stuff. The slime coats Baze’s lower body, but she is still free from its influence.
That’s when the stuff is still inside her coalesces into something long, hard, full, and thrust forward. She gasps at that, scratching at the floor, gritting her teeth.
Behind her, the Mistress reforms into that humanoid shape. “So, you were able to escape? How cute. But don’t think I’m done playing with you. This is a sexfight, after all. You’ll be begging to become a part of me once I make you come more than any mortal should.”
Baze’s eyes burn with a determination, and she stumbles up, her legs wobbling, even as the slime inside her buzzes and thrusts in there. “N… no… I won’t… I won’t give in… to you!”
The feminine figure in the pit giggles. “Well, then, you’ll be much more fun than I thought. It’s only a matter of time. I can taste your desire, and I so desire to have you be a part of me.
Baze stops, then she smirks, and she runs, leaping off into the pool once more, crashing into the figure, getting herself coated in the muck once more.
“W… what she doing!?” Tik Tik gasps. “She just got out of there!”
“Hm… an intriguing proposition, it seems,” responds Hanioc. “We’ll have to see where this goes, as she could have doomed herself or found a way to win.”
“W… what? What Baze do?”
“The Mistress is a composite being of all she has absorbed. She is the domination of mind and body into the soul of the slime. But, if a stronger will can take control of the rest… then that will should come out the victor.”
“Or… or she could be lost!” Tik Tik whines.
“That,” Hanioc agrees, “is also a possibility.”


---
Baze’s mind spins. Memories flash through her of all the partners she’s had in the past. Friends long gone, killed in the line of duty, or even by her own hands, crash into her consciousness. Monsters like the Muddy Mistress caused their end, and now, the starry pool threatens to end her as well.
The kobold breaks through the surface, taking in a large gulp of air. Baze’s eyes widen, and the breath is deep, but ropes of slime coil up her body, clinging to her mouth, forcing her jaws open as she’s dragged straight back down into that unknown abyss.
The kobold disappears underneath with a splash. Bubbles pop at the surface, leaving the two commentators with nothing to see.
“So, her will wasn’t strong enough, after all,” Hanioc says. “That is certainly a shame.”
Tik Tik grabs onto the angel’s arm, tugging at it. “Please, can’t let Tik Tik friend get hurt! Hanioc, can save Baze?”
“Fear not,” the angel says. “Recall that the Champions in the Tournament are all safe. All physical scarring will be healed after each match as if no damage has been dealt. However, this will surely be an experience Baze will not soon forget.”
Tik Tik’s eyes widen. “Wait… that mean… what about mind!?”
“What do you mean…?”
“Mortal mind! Is sensitive! Can hurt!”
“A peculiarity of the mortal’s constraints. To forget is as if it never happened. That I am not permitted to allow.”
Tik Tik turns to the still pool, clutching her chest. “Baze…”
Deep down in the darkness, Baze twitches and groans. The Mistress fills her—her sex, her mouth, her lungs. The threat that the Mistress gave to her—to be a part of her—it’s coming true. The kobold feels the pleasure and the invasiveness throughout her, but she experiences so much more. She is no longer alone. She is no longer her. Around her, many others join in the chorus of delight and terror--those who were thrown in to satisfy the Mistress’s cravings, and those who joined willingly to be a part of something greater. Comfort and distress, fear and passion: all of these feelings coalesce into a homogenized experience that can only be felt as a singular sensation: “Mistress”
Baze’s form presses against the glass, looking out into the establishment beyond. There, hedonists rut and rave, watching the battle that had been lost with masked faces and drunken swagger. Other naked forms press against the wall along the sides, showing off no individuality, but exposing themselves nonetheless. The gamut of the thoughts wracks her mind—the embarrassment of those uncertain with their bodies, the thrill of those exhibitionists, the sheer terror of those who had joined the Mistress, not of their volition.
A splash breaks through the dark and muddy perception. Arms, not of the collective, wrap around Baze, pulling her free from the sticky edge of the glass. Two forms coated in the all-encompassing embrace of the Mistress flop out to the edge of her pool, coughing and choking, spitting up the delight and the desperation that fills the pool.
Baze shakes the mud from her face to see the pink flecks that poke out from the muddy figure next to her. “Tik Tik!?” She gasps, rolling her over.
She presses her hands against the smaller kobold’s chest, performing rhythmic compressions. The little kobold coughs, spitting up the bits of mud before glaring around her surroundings.
“Tik Tik!? What are you doing? I had her right where I wanted her!”
Tik Tik brings herself up with shaky resolve. “Tik Tik… friend,” she coughs. “Didn’t want lose Baze.”
“It is a futile effort,” Hanioc responds, waving a hand and freeing the two kobolds of all mud. Tik Tik’s throbbing chest mends with no issue. “A waste of your time, and the removal of the rightful victory that the Muddy Mistress deserves.”
Tik Tik shakes her head. “Tik Tik no let friends be hurt bad. Want this be fun.”
Baze pats Tik Tik on the head. “Hey, now. I fight for fun in competitions with greater stakes than this. I knew what I was getting myself into. You need to relax.”
“Maybe,” Tik Tik says, looking away. “Tik Tik no know.”
From the pool emerges an elfish form, arms draping over the edge. She rests her cheek upon her arm. “That’s right, little Herald. This is all a matter of fun. I must admit that Baze’s attempt to overpower my will was quite fascinating, if a bit foolish.”
Baze smirks and stands up now. “Anyway, now that I faced the slime queen here, I know exactly how to deal with her after the Tournament is over.”
The mistress coos. “Oh, you flatter me. I look forward to assimilating you for real very soon, Baze.”
Baze doesn’t look to the form as she exits the chamber. Once out of sight from Tik Tik and her opponent, the ranger lets out a long, stressful breath, and she leans herself against the wall. 
The clicking of high heels gets her to stand back to her confident self. An elf with green hair and fiery orange eyes, dressed in a clingy dress, stops and pulls a smoking stick from her lips. “Well, well,” the elf says. “That was quite the show you put on there. Most spectacular, indeed.”
Baze narrows her eyes. “I recognize you… from… from the visions in the pool.”
“Ah, yes, I suppose at least one of the bodies in the Mistress’s collective might recognize me.”
“You’re a monster,” Baze responds.
The elf coos, walking past her. “Not the variety that you hunt, I’m afraid.” She says this, tapping the ash of her smoke stick right by the kobold. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to speak to my Champion and prepare her for her next match.”