One of Hythlodaeus' hands go to Dirk's chest and squeeze as he speaks. His tone as jovial as it usually is.

"I promised to fold him in half and penetrate him, yet he still seems a touch tense for such an activity. Perhaps you could relax him? I can't find it within myself to alter the morning's program. He will need to make do." He carries on jovially, a grin spreading on his features for Hades' benefit. Hades should know well enough what he means with it.

It hardly ends up being a very long show, and show is somewhat less adept of a description unless audience participation is an understood norm. Though, with them, they are into rather eclectic theater. Twenty-five, thirty sweaty minutes later, Hythlodaeus dismounts slowly from his spot behind Dirk and walks out towards the wash room, dressed in daring little before he comes back with warm washcloths in one hand as he combs the rest back into place with his fingers.

The yamask are surely not paid enough for this.