Finally, amid panting and pressing - which led to the multitude of cells expanding and contracting around Blake - Sakura settled down from the continual, throbbing exercise. She held her hands to her hips, the firm sparring gloves pushing in; Blake could feel the wear and tear in the material, past pulsating layers of hardening musculature. The bulging of veins feeding his cellular mass blood went into overdrive, like a throbbing, dizzying headache.

And he still couldn't slip the ring off... Keeping all his complaints muted, as he was secured in place...

Sakura stretched out, letting her hands hit Blake's relatively low ceiling - before PLOP-ing down on his bed. She lay belly-first, compressing him entirely beneath her bodily weight for an arduous, humbling moment. The building pressure on every side of him made him want to wail out in panic, but everything came out as a simple "Mmmph!"

Sakura tapped his spot, a bizarre fleshy growth; the uncomfortable jiggling in response made her giggle. "Sooo, that's my training... But you gotta train too, Blake!"

He wasn't sure what she was talking about, and couldn't ask with the silvery tension around him.

"I'm gonna train you. You'll fight against my finger... And if you win, you can break free! Get ready!"

And without any warning, the combat began: mage versus fighter's finger.

The short-nailed surface pushed and poked at the belly-boy. He attempted to strike back, give any sort of resistance; but it kept squirming out. Her jabs were quick, agile, but direct. It was like they were pushing specifically on weak points to knock him off-balance. He was sent wobbling with each strike, the navel ring providing barely any support; each time it stopped, he was only tormented with another POKE.

Sakura laughed. "Blake, you'll need to rise up to the challenge! Come on!"

He groaned. This wasn't what he ever asked for! Why was she pushing him like this?

Eventually, after a buffet of prods and squeezes, he had gained some modicum of mobility. He could sway a little, pack his muscle in places where the blows damaged him less. If he tried hard, he could even wiggle a bit further than usual. And from the beat of her heart, the noise of other muscles moving around, he began predicting which ways she'd touch him.

It was weird to say, but he was adapting...