Three days before the Killing Marathon, Tidam locked themselves in the old dojo on the east side of the Ville. No distractions. Just drills, sweat, and survival practice.
For Tim, it was hell. Not just the training — but the rule he had carved into his own skull:
No sex. No release. Not until after the mission.
He told himself it was discipline. A leader had to stay sharp, focused. But inside Tidam, where temptation was everywhere, that vow felt like torture.
—
Lacey trained in a sports-bra cut top, sweat dripping down her cleavage like a gym influencer's workout reel. Every punch made her chest bounce, every grunt sharp. Tim's eyes betrayed him, flicking down before he snapped them back up. Focus. She's your fighter, not your fantasy.
Yuko spun in her short skirt, kicks flashing thigh like an idol fancam. She caught his glance, smirked, and held it a second too long. Tim's pulse spiked. She knows exactly what she's doing. Don't give her the satisfaction.
Amy skipped rope in the corner, hoodie sliding low on her shoulder. Her chest bounced in rhythm, cheeks pink, giggling. "Are you watching, Tim?" she teased. He clenched his jaw. She's just a kid playing at being grown. Don't let her get in your head.
Jenny wiped her blade with her robe, fabric sheer against her chest. For a second, it looked like those wet-shirt contest clips he'd seen online. His stomach knotted. She's your ex. And she's dangerous. Don't let the past undo you now.
Nina drifted close, sliding her hands along his back to "fix" his stance, breath hot on his ear. She whispered, "Relax, Leader. Your body's too tense." His cock throbbed, his hands shook. This is exactly what she wants. She feeds on weakness. Don't be her toy.
—
Nights weren't better.
The girls lounged in towels, steam clinging to skin, joking about who'd "get Tim first" after they survived. Yuko sucked her straw slow like an OnlyFans clip, Amy draped across his lap pouting, Lacey stretched with her top riding high, Jenny brushed past with her robe sliding low, and Nina massaged his shoulders like she was offering "special service."
Tim's body screamed. Every nerve, every muscle wanted to give in. But he clenched his fists, breathing hard, forcing himself to remember the Marathon.
If I give in now, I lose focus. If I lose focus, they die. If they die, Tidam ends.
He repeated it like a mantra, even as his cock throbbed painfully.
"Three more days," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Just three more."
But with Tidam teasing him nonstop, three days felt like a lifetime sentence.