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(He's Mine!, continued...)

You intersperse yourself between Natalie and Kate before Natalie can retaliate further. “Let’s go somewhere quieter,” you suggest, “see if we can sort this out.” Neither of them say anything, and their attention is fixed on one another, but neither escalates. And when you move to the door, they follow — but keeping out of reach of one another.

You figure that the evening air might cool things down a bit, and maybe give you a chance to resolve this situation somehow.

You are half-right. Neither Natalie or Kate seem about to start laying into the other when you do get outside, but the situation doesn’t exactly improve. Thankfully, it’s not raining and warm enough that no one needs a coat.

“So…” you begin, although you are not exactly sure where to begin, “I like both of you a lot…”

“I’m not doing a threesome, or going ‘poly’,” says Kate, “so don’t even ask.” She takes her eyes off Natalie and looks at you. “We’re great together. We’ve awesome chemistry and have fantastic sex. And as for your cock…” She stumbles a little. “You’re like no-one else I’ve dated, and I’m not going to give you up just because some other slut has taken a fancy to you.”

Kate looks away for a moment. “If you don’t want me, that’s one thing. It’d wreck me, but I’d learn to live with it.” Then she looks at you again, proud and fierce. “But if any part of you wants me, then I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”

“Nice speech,” says Natalie, “but there’s just one small problem: I’m not going anywhere. No one has made me feel like he has. No one has made me cum like he has. Seeing him is the single brightest point of my otherwise miserable routine, and I was banking on us taking things to the next level.” You are not exactly sure what she means by that, and don’t get the chance to ask. “And yeah, I have the same issue you do: I don’t share.”

The two of them stare daggers at one another and then both look to you.

It’s an awkward moment and you are definitely on the spot, yet before you manage to say anything, another voice pipes up.

“Excuse me sir, ladies,” says a rather smartly dressed man, wandering over, “but I could not help but overhear your particular dilemma — and I believe I may be of some assistance.”

Your hackles go up. This is absolutely a private matter and not one for any eavesdropper to barge into. You are about to tell him to get lost, when you are stalled by recognition. This guy was one of the guests in the hotel restaurant and likely saw the whole altercation.

“My name is Clyde Radcliffe, and — correct me if I am wrong — but these two fine figures of women in their prime find themselves in competition for the affections of this good gentleman.” The smartly dressed man gestures at the three of you in turn. “And you collectively find yourselves in need of some manner of resolving this equation in a decisive manner.”

“Get to the point,” you say, resenting his intrusion and hoping not to draw more attention.

Radcliffe inclines his head in your direction and reaches into his jacket for a business card. “It just so happens that I am the proprietor of an establishment that arranges bouts between willing combatants of the fairer sex. Rather than run at this… half-cocked,” he says, smirking in your direction, “why not settle this matter formally?”

He raises his fingers to count off the advantages of his proposal. “Clean, hygienic, premises constructed for this purpose. Access to care and support before and after any contest. Scrupulous adjudication to ensure fairness to all parties. Plus healthy financial remuneration to enrich all involved — and compensate the… runner-up.”

You mentally translate the words and realize that Radcliffe is trying to take advantage of your awkward situation to rustle up business for some seedy fight club. You are not sure if you are shocked or impressed by his gall. Surely, neither Kate or Natalie will go for this nonsense?

Yet when you look at them, they are each sizing the other up. Clearly weighing their chances of putting the other down. “I’m in,” snaps Natalie, and Kate hastily replies, “Me too!” lest she be seen to be hesitant or afraid.

Radcliffe smiles and hands out two more business cards. “Excellent,” he says, “then I suggest we go our separate ways and I shall be in touch with details — lest anyone get carried away.”

Kate takes the card first and moves to re-enter the hotel. Before she does so, she turns to Natalie, “Huge mistake slut. I’m going to beat you down so hard it’s gonna hurt to even think about touching him again.”

Natalie regards her coolly. “Big talk,” she says, “but if you really were half the woman you think you are, he would never have looked twice at me.”

The two women depart, leaving you somewhat agog with Clyde Radcliffe. For his part, Radcliffe leans over to you and says, “I may not have been entirely forthcoming with some details. You see, I do not own one such gladiatorial establishment — but three. Each caters to a different form of combat: Mud-wrestling, oil-wrestling and straight-up MMA.

“I thought that, being as you were the reason this opportunity has crossed my path, the least I could do is let you decide which venue you would prefer.”

This evening is getting stranger and stranger. The two women in your life are about to do battle for your love, and you get to choose the time, place and method? It seems like destiny. But what to choose?

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