His cell phone rang with that tone he already knew so well.

-Oh no, not now, not here.

He raised his head lazily on the massage table and reached for the mobile on the table opposite. He clicked on the app dotted with the red notification and first entered in his profile, "Roland". Yep, he had forgotten to put his status as "unavailable" after coming home last night. Then he went to his inbox where there were two pending notifications, the first from half an hour ago "Ferragut is close to you. Do you want to send him an invitation?" and the second one a few seconds ago "Ferragut has sent you an invitation! Do you want to accept it?" He was not so surprised to have found another user in that secluded mountain spa as pissed with the universe for disturbing his day of peace and solitude that he had been planning for weeks, even more so when the night before he had been touring the city looking for another user and he came home frustrated. He locked the phone and went back to the massage with the firm intention of forgetting the matter. Although significantly he did not decline the invitation either.

Not even three minutes had passed when Roland picked up his cell phone again this time to look at the profile of "Ferragut", telling himself that it was just out of curiosity. As expected, there was neither photo nor gender, only physical characteristics and user statistics. Ferragut was a little taller than him and a few kilos heavier. He/she had an interesting amount of wins, no losses in recent months and a "very reliable" rating from other users. "Damm big boy, where were you last night?" With a sigh he put the phone back on the table, closed his eyes tightly and tried to think of the sound of the waves.

The Fight.me application was your typical dating application where complete strangers contacted each other to fight instead of fucking, although the latter was not excluded. Like in the Brad Pitt movie club, but monetized by a big tech rather than the anti-materialist message of the original novel. The application alerted users to the presence of others in their area, allowing them to challenge each other and, once accepted, revealing their location so that they would fight wherever they were (Roland got to fight in places as atypical as an elevator, the backstage of a theater or the House of Horror of a theme park. That had been a weird day). The app's algorithm was fairly balanced, categorizing users based on their stats to avoid uneven fights, and including a user "reputation" to penalize those who didn't take it seriously, pervs, and, well, people willing paid homeless people to let themselves get beaten up.

Roland had known about the app for a long time but didn't start using it until a year ago under the "why not" principle. His first contact was what is called a cathartic experience. He fought a girl in a public park at midnight, and got his ass severely kicked. He was a sportman and had some martial arts background, but he discovered that none of this works in a street brawl. The girl herself turned out to be quite nice, a common trait in the rest of the users he encountered, she even accompanied him to a pharmacy. Roland went to bed thinking that the next day he would wake up hurt and humiliated, but surprisingly he found himself in a special mood, a clear mind and, in short, happy. Since then he became a regular user of the application. He had fought, he had lost, he had won (lately plus the latter) and he felt more complete than he had ever felt. Someone could say that this was a form of escapism from a shitty life full of commitments and expectations returning to a primitive and physical nature, but nobody likes people who talk like that.

-Bad news, sir? All of your muscles have suddenly become tense.
-Erh ... no no, all good, you can go on, thanks.

Until the masseur's intervention, Roland hadn't realized that he was looking at the phone again. Who was he kidding? His heart was pumping with excitement and anticipation and his body preparing for the fight sweating adrenaline. "Oh fuck it." He picked up the phone for the last time and clicked "Accept" the invitation. "You have accepted Ferragut's invitation! Your location is now visible to both of you on the map." He apologized to the masseuse and left the massage room, phone in hand. "I have to quit this shit, I'm getting addicted." But the truth is that he felt that he had lifted a weight from his shoulders.

Roland consulted the application's GPS map where, obviously, the interior layout of the complex was not detailed, only a large box was visible, but he was able to verify that Ferragut was indeed there, about 50 meters to the east. Wherever the east was. Roland started down the complex hall by hall, looking to see if he was getting closer or further from the red dot that marked Ferragut's location. Would he/she be in the pool surrounded by people? Or alone in a less crowded part of the complex? He was getting closer to his destination when for the first time he became aware of the fact that he was practically naked. And that Ferragut would also be practically naked. Street clothing and footwear were forbidden inside the spa and the official outfit of the center was a loincloth that, although it covered his crotch, did nothing to protect or support his content. It was definitely going to be an interesting fight.

At last he found his destination, the corridor of the saunas, third door. Ferragut was on the other side of the door. There was no way to catch a glimpse of him before approaching him, nor to know if he was alone or with company, and peeping from the door would make a lousy first impression. "Oh look at you, nervous like in a first prom." Roland lifted his chin and puffed out his chest in his best tough-guy impression and opened the door with decision.

Watch here (hi-res): https://files.catbox.moe/jvykxj.mp4

Or here (low-res): https://files.catbox.moe/gpbrf2.mp4

Models by  Petruz Petruz.

Here an alternative MvsF versión: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/44271152/