Good lord. *choke* 
I... I was just kidding.
Awww, and I hadn't even got to the part yet about Rikdo's hot pink Hello Kitty gym shorts! 
Oh, no, do continue writing it. I insist. 
[subliminal message]Add Kabapu... a female Kabapu... with stache...[/subliminal message]
Maybe further on in the story...
Today's thrilling installment!
The car skidded crazily around another cliff-side hairpin turn, the tires kicking up gravel that sailed out into space and fell out of sight.
"I wish you'd slow down," said Rikdo.
"I'm…impatient," said Nabeshin. "I thought you were, too."
"I'm fine," said Rikdo. "The car has air conditioning." He slowly peeled off his sweat-soaked shirt, toweling off his upper body with it, then lay back to enjoy the caress of the cool air on his skin. Then he screamed, "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!!!"
Nabeshin swerved just in time to avoid plowing through a bevy of cosplayers dressed as nuns.
"Jeez, what were you thinking?"
"I was distracted," said Nabeshin. "Don't worry, I'll get you there in one piece."
"Just keep your eyes on the road. How hard can that be?"
"Oh, it's hard, baby," said Nabeshin with a strange smile. "You have no idea how hard it is." He pressed a button and rolled down the window just enough to slip a grenade out. It exploded under a car that had been following them for just a bit too long. Damn Puuchuus, always trying to find his secret gym.
The car finally pulled up in front of an ornate, abandoned temple. It had a breathtaking view of the mountainside, but was overgrown with grass and shrubs. Rikdo opened the car door, and had barely stepped out before Nabeshin burst out after him, crashing into him, knocking him flat on his back, and falling on top of him.
Rikdo lay there, the tall grass tickling his neck and shoulders and the burr of cicadas filling the air. He could feel Nabeshin's weight and heat pressing down on his bare skin. He could feel the action hero's heart pounding a rhythm in syncopation with his own. Nabeshin's eyes gazed piercingly into his.
"Um…" said Rikdo, his breath coming surprisingly short. "Isn't there a door on the other side of the car, too?"
"I like this one better," breathed Nabeshin. He flexed his toned body, and Rikdo felt each and every muscle ripple.
"I….need to get my gym bag. It's under the seat."
"Of course." Nabeshin let Rikdo up, and the cartoonist hastily got his bag. He was beginning to feel there was something odd about this whole situation. And the temple looked far too old to be air conditioned, after all.
His worries were put to rest once he entered. Inside the facade of an ancient temple was a modern, fully-equipped, air-conditioned gym, with weight machines, treadmills, a sauna, and even a swimming pool.
"The locker room's through there," said Nabeshin. "Why don't you go get on something more comfortable while I set things up?"
"Okay," said Rikdo, and left.
Nabeshin pulled out his most comfortable weight bench and covered it with the padded velvet slipcover he had spent so many lonely nights sewing. He ran a hand over its fuzzy softness and smiled, anticipation sending a shudder of lust through his body. On a convenient nearby shelf he began to arrange a selection of lotions, massage oils, aromatherapy candles, and lubricants. He turned down the lights and started a selection of romantic music playing on the stereo.
A bottle of champagne had chilled to perfection in a bucket of ice on the Stairmaster. Nabeshin poured two flutes full. He drained one to steady his nerves.
He drained the second one when Rikdo reappeared. The cartoonist was naked, except for a pair of sandals and a hot pink pair of Hello Kitty boxers. The crotch of Nabeshin's pants grew uncomfortably tight as the cartoonist came nearer and lifted a glass.
"Ooh, champagne!" Rikdo said. He tossed it down and poured himself another. "Now this is the way to start a workout!" he said, and drained a third glass.
"I think we should get on with it," said Nabeshin, barely controlling his urgent need. "Are you feeling relaxed?"
"Oh, yeah," said Rikdo with a giggle.
"Then lie down here."
Rikdo obligingly lay on his back on the soft bench. Head fuzzy with champagne, he still realized there was something missing. "Hey," he said. "Shouldn't there be some weights to lift?"
"You're not ready for weights," said Nabeshin, as he gently bound the cartoonist's arms to the upper support beams of the bench with padded velcro restraints. "We'll start out with some isometric exercises."
"I've heard of those," said Rikdo. He hummed to himself as Nabeshin strapped his legs to the legs of the bench, one to each side, leaving his thighs spread out and the bulge in his gym shorts vulnerable. A faint sigh of desire forced itself from Nabeshin's throat.
"Let's make sure everything's secure," Nabeshin said. "Try to break free."
Rikdo pulled down on the manacles with all his strength. He tried to kick his feet free. He struggled against the bonds, his nearly naked body writhing, bucking and thrusting as he grunted with the effort.
Nabeshin looked away, but it was too late. There was a tearing sound at his groin, and the sudden feel of a release of pressure. Not to mention a draft. He'd torn yet another pair of trousers to ribbons. Shaking his head, Nabeshin carefully removed his magenta jacket--they were hard to find--and tore off his shirt and the remains of the trousers. Soon he was attired in nothing but a necktie and a black jeweled speedo, strained to bursting.
With a groan, Rikdo arched his body in one final effort before collapsing, panting. "Okay," he said. "I'm securely attached to this thing. Now what?"
"Now what?" said Nabeshin, pulling a scissors from the depths of his afro, a wicked smile spreading over his face. "Now we get you out of those girly pink shorts!"
Rikdo screamed.
