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Old 03-Oct-21, 19:22
curioussparky curioussparky is offline
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Default X vs Y

PART 1

Agent Y saw the kick coming just a nanosecond too late. A long, pale leg flashed into view, the stilettoed heel on the end of it clipping his gun hand. He’d been holding the weapon out in front of him as he approached the corner of the wall leading into the underground parking lot, and the other agent had clearly been waiting for him. Y bit down on his lip to suppress a yelp and took two rapid steps back, just as the other agent cartwheeled into view in front of him. Blonde hair tied back, little black dress cut seductively short, exposing her legs. Holster strapped to her thigh.

“Agent X.” Y said matter of factly as his gun clattered to the floor somewhere behind the female agent.

“The same.” Said X, similarly deadpan. She’d unholstered the pistol from her leg and pointed it at Y. “Checkmate, it would seem.”

Agent Y’s heart hammered in his chest. He wasn’t wearing a bullet proof vest under his tuxedo: if she pulled that trigger, he was done for. He had to stall for time. “Your reputation proceeds you, X. But from what I’ve heard, you usually prefer your victims up close and personal.”

X’s finely trimmed pale eyebrows rose a fraction. He could tell he’d hit a nerve. Agent X was known in the intelligence community for her ever so slightly sadistic nature. She liked to kill her marks up close and personal. For now, though, she just shrugged. “Why would I waste the energy on you? You’re barely out of the academy, rookie!”

Y forced a smirk to appear on his face, suppressing the fear. “I wouldn't underestimate me, X. I’m top of the class in all my hand to hand combat modules. I think I could give you a run for your money.”

For a moment, X stood there, her blue eyes narrowed at Y, sizing him up. He was about her height, muscular in a wiry sort of way under his tux, seven years younger than her at just 20. His life hung in the balance as the more experienced agent decided if he was worth the tussle. Finally, she lowered her weapon, and let it fall to the floor. Without taking those blue eyes off of him, she reached down and undid the straps on her stilettos, kicking them off.

Grinning, Y honoured the unspoken rule by kicking off his polished black shoes and socks, then slid out of his dinner jacket so that he was just wearing his shirt and trousers. “So it's to the death, then?”

X smirked, looking the very picture of pretty-perfect-arrogance. “To your death. And I don’t think it will take long.”

Y started to close the gap between them, and X backed away slightly, not to get away, but to move the arena of this encounter into the car park proper. Y quickly took in his surroundings as he assumed his combat stance, arms crossed out in front, feet shoulder width apart. The car park was completely abandoned, only a large Audi saloon sat parked. There were pillars holding up the structure but other than that no obstructions. This should be...well, he wasn’t sure about fun, but he’d given himself a chance.

For a moment the two agents circled, each waiting for the other to make the first move.
“Come on, rookie. Are you scared? Why don’t you show me some of those martial arts skills?” goaded the blonde, circling Y in her tight little sleeveless blackdress like some sort of kinky cheetah toying with its prey.

“What, so you can use my momentum against me? I’m not that stupid.” said Y, grinning now. He was starting to enjoy this banter.

“Well, I don’t have all night…” said X.

“Better come to me then…” said Y.

For a moment it looked like neither of them would make a move, and they would spend the whole evening just prowling around each other. Y though this may not be such a bad idea, maybe X would get tired eventually and get caught off guard. But then she struck.

X lunged forward, and Y instantly froze his legs in a secure stance, bringing his arms up to block any attack. X then did something odd. She dove forward, flipping onto her hands in a handstand maneuver, and split her athletic looking legs apart. Y was of course momentarily distracted by the view caused by this unconventional move, so wasn’t quite prepared when the other agent started to pivot round on her hands, spinning her opened legs like a helicopter. One foot then the other slammed into Y’s guard, knocking him sideways. He just about managed to stay on his feet but was forced to the left by the strength in each of these unconventional kicks. In retaliation, he tried to kick out at X’s inverted chest, but didn’t time his balance right, and took another kick to his guard just as his foot was leaving the ground. He stumbled to the back and landed on his ass, just as X did one last acrobatic spin then cartwheeled to her feet again, looking smug.

“Still no evidence of those skills.” She said, placing a cocky hand on her hip and staring down at Y. Going a little red from embarrassment, Y rolled to his feet, and crouched warily, legs slightly bent.

“Maybe I’m just getting warmed up.”

“How long is it going to take you? You promised this would be a challenge. Maybe I should have just shot you…”

Y lunged, pushing off his bent legs. X was clearly a little unprepared for once, busy as she was goading over Y with her hand on her hip, and she was a fraction late in establishing her guard. Y ploughed into her, his shoulder knocking into her chest and she staggered back a few paces. Not relenting, Y faked a right hook to her face, and when she threw her arms up to block, nailed his left knee into her abs. They felt good and firm on impact, but so was his thigh, and she buckled with a light deflating sound. Y neatly sidestepped as she dropped to her knees, and then drove his right elbow down between her shoulder blades, knocking the more experienced agent flat onto her stomach.

“How’s that for a challenge?” said Y, and before she could respond, soccer kicked her with his barefoot in the side, flipping X onto her back. The blonde fighter looked like she was trying to work out what the hell was happening. Better end this while she’s still dazed, thought Y, but he hesitated. Part of him wanted to toy with her a little like she had done to him. Still, the more rational part of him won out, and he jumped, extending his right leg and knee, planning a crushing drop onto her exposed throat.

He had hesitated just a fraction too long, though.

Just as he came down, X’s eyes suddenly widened, and in a lightning quick move that would make a cat look slow, rolled hard to the side. Y winced as his outreached leg hit nothing but concrete.

Meanwhile, X rolled to her feet, looking flushed but threatening. Ignoring the pain in his leg, Y attempted to do the same, but wasn’t quite quick enough. X’s right leg shot out at brutal speed, and clocked Y in his jaw with her shin. A terrific THWACK echoed around the parking lot, and Y felt like he had stuck his head into the path of an oncoming train. Life seemed to slow down to half speed as he watched a long arc of blood, and possibly a tooth, go spraying from his mouth, then he crashed onto his side.

The world was spinning. His vision was blurry. He was desperately trying to stay conscious, and though he may have bitten the end of his tongue off. Slowly, he propped himself onto his elbow, trying to blink the cobwebs out of his vision. X was crouched down next to him, hands on her knees, looking vaguely pitying. “Nice try, Y-boy. Really, for a few seconds there I was impressed. For that, I’ll make this quick.”

Y threw a limp punch with his right arm in her general direction, but X was already moving. As he sat up she scooted behind him, and suddenly Y found himself yelping as the other agent grabbed a fistful of his short hair, and dragged him backwards. He felt the back of his head fall into her lap, felt her hard abs through her dress on the back of his head. Watched in a daze as those perfect, pale, toned thighs dropped onto his shoulders, and her ankles and calves crossed. He didn’t really come to his senses until the squeezing started.

Y’s hands flew to X’s thighs in panic as her adductors flexed, cutting into the side of his neck. It was impossible to breathe pretty much instantly. Through the sudden sensation of suffocation, Y dimly remembered from the intelligence files that this was one of X’s favourite kill holds. If she kept him in this for long enough - or, by the feel of it, not very long at all - he was done for. Y scrabbled for a grip on her thighs, and, finding none, settled for her knees, and pulled as hard as he could. It made no difference whatsoever.

“This will be a lot quicker if you don’t struggle.” Said X smoothly from somewhere behind him. She sounded elated, almost breathless herself, but not from the effort. She’s enjoying this, though Y, even as he realised he needed another tactic. Desperately, he kicked his own legs around on the car park floor trying to find some purchase, perhaps to flip them over so he could better pull himself free. Finding none, he bent his legs and tried to pry at her locked ankles with his own bare feet. When then quickly sprang apart he took a gasp of air, feeling elated himself. And that’s when things went from bad to worse.

Quick as a flash, X drew her right leg back to her knee, locking her right calf against Y’s throat before he could get his arms in the way to block it. Gagging, Y suddenly found himself in a figure four choke, which was, unbelievably, worse than the leg choke he had just been in. Grabbing at her shin uselessly, Y felt his trachea bending inwards under the awesome pressure. This was hell.

“I did say it would be worse if you struggled…” said X, and then, in a final humiliation, grabbed his wrists with her hands and pulled them back. He now could not even put up a token resistance.

Y jerked on the floor between the other agent’s deadly legs, trying not to think about words like crush and squeeze and windpipe. His white tux shirt had ridden up in his struggles, and his own six pack was now on display, heaving in and out like a set of bellows as his lungs desperately tried to find air that just wouldn’t come. Is this it? He thought. Am I finished before my career has even begun?

In a final, desperate, frustrated move, he planted his feet flat against the concrete in front of them, and bridged his hips into the air. X must have been relishing her imminent victory a bit too much, because the sudden movement caused her calf to relax just slightly before clamping back down. It wasn’t much, but Y - who was in full on survival mode - was able to tuck his chin in just slightly, so when X tightened the hold it was on his jaw, not his neck. Y screamed internally as his jaw - which still felt wobbly after X’s brutal earlier kick - was crushed, but at least he could now breathe slightly, panting through his nose and clenched teeth onto X’s calf. X seemed to notice this, and, grunting in frustration, released his arms as she attempted to grab his head and rectify the situation. “You really should keep still…” she started to say, but Y was ready. His hand free, he grabbed hold of X’s big toe on her right foot where it was laced over her left thigh, and twisted brutally till he heard a “pop”.

X screamed. The pressure of the figure four fell away as she finally released him. Realising he should break away while he could, Y released her toe and started to roll away. X howled in frustration and kicked him in the head with her rather red right foot, but at this stage Y was running on pure adrenaline. He lurched out of the way, avoiding the full force of the kick, and scrambled away towards the Audi saloon. Only when he reached the hood of the car did he scramble up, using the front of the vehicle support, breathing heavily, tux shirt torn and dirty, but glad to be alive. He looked back.

X was on her feet, slowly approaching him, death in a little black dress. Her blue eyes looked like death too. Her pretty face was narrowed into an I will kill you slowly glare. Her right toe was twice the size of the others. Y grinned despite himself, leaning on the back of the Audi’s hood. “Wow, looks like someone’s due a pedicure. Good job I don’t have a foot fetish. That is going to be uuuuugly.”

X snarled, advancing on him steadily. “I’ll ram it down your throat before we’re done here.”

“Try it!”

And she did. A meter out from the car, X twisted her perfect hips and sent another high kick towards Y’s face. Her anger must have clouded her judgement, as the move was easily telegraphed to even someone as rookie as Y. Rather than leap out the way though, he threw his legs up and flipped backwards, getting to his feet on the hood of the Audi even as X’s leg swooshed over it, narrowly avoiding his legs. Before she could reestablish her base, he stepped forward, and sent a brutal muay thai style kick to her head from his position of advantage. His shin cracked into the side of her unprotected head. Revenge he thought as X went flying to the side and landed with a vulnerable sounding yelp on all fours near the Audi’s front wheel.

“Looks like you haven’t managed to put your foot in my mouth. Maybe you should put it in yours, sucker.” Said Y, triumphant, feeling like the king of the castle. X started to stagger halfway to her feet, looking wobbly and dazed. Y didn’t waste any time. He jumped, and before X could turn around, pounced onto her back.

He locked onto her like a limpet. Cinching her slim waist with his thighs, he threw his arms around her exposed neck in a sleeper choke, like a cobra going for its prey. X buckled under his weight, and they fell to the tarmac together. Y winced as his left side took the brunt of the impact, but he wasn’t letting go. No way. Once on the floor, he locked his ankles together in front of her and cinched his legs tight, crushing her waist in his thighs. How do you like it, bitch. He was rewarded with a shallow wheeze as X’s air left her lungs, and he pulsed his legs harder, let her hands go to his knees in panic. Which was ideal, as it allowed him to lock the sleeper in even tighter. Grabbing hold of his left bicep with him right hand, he grinned as his tricep bulged against her throat. “Nighty night, X.” He hissed in her ear, and squeezed the double hold hard.

X seemed to spring to uncoordinated life. Clearly panicking, her hands scrambled first at his legs, then his arms, then his legs again, clearly unsure which hold she had a better chance of breaking. Scratches began to appear on his right arm and rips in his black trousers as his captive desperately tried to get free, but Y ignored them., focusing instead on slowly ramping up the pressure. X, to her credit, was bucking really fucking hard, her own legs picking up a fair few scratched and bruises as they kicked against the carpark floor. But Y held fast. Not wanting to risk cramp, he would squeeze really hard first with his legs, feeling X’s lower ribs creak against his thighs. Then he would let off just slightly and power down with his arms, enjoying the helpless gagging sounds. Alternating like this, he felt like a snake slowly breaking an alligator in a deathgrip.

As her struggles started to slow, Y rolled onto his back, dragging X with him. Still alternating with his double grip, he whispered in her ear “I can see why you enjoy killing the way you do, X.” And he was, too, he felt himself stiffen, his hardness against the small of her back. In the process of goading her, he’d moved his head to the right of hers.

He was in the process of summoning his energies for one last, Goodnight squeeze, when X’s free hand flew back. It could have been an instinctive reaction, or her training, or the simple mistake that Y had made by moving his face from behind her, where it was protected, to next to her ear, where it was not. In any case, X through a perfect two fingered strike backwards into Y’s eyes.

Y screamed, his face suddenly on fire, his vision momentarily a blackness punctuated by flashing lights. He was vaguely aware of X scrambling out from between his limbs as he rolled onto his knees, rubbing his face. “My eyes! You BITCH, my eyes!” He yelled, sounding pathetic even to his own ears. X didn’t respond, he only heard her heavy breathing somewhere to his right, clearly trying to recover from his squeeze. I almost had her! He thought, bitterly, as he crawled away.

Slowly, he regained his vision. He found himself leaning against the driver's door of the Audi, and caught his own face in the side mirror. HIs eyes were bloodshot and raw, his jaw was swollen. He looked a state. Frantically, he looked for his opponent.

She wasn’t there.

Pushing away from the Audi, he looked around in panic. The deserted car park looked back in silence. There was blood on the ground - a mix of both of theres, but no X. Did she run away? He thought. Had he bested her? There was only one place he hadn’t looked. Slowly, he turned around looked over the roof of the car at the carpark entrance.

X was standing there in her cute dress, with her half swollen face and swollen toe, holding two guns outstretched before her. His and hers. “PLAYTIME IS OVER!” she yelled.

Y just managed to drop to his knees behind the Audi as the air exploded with gunfire. The car’s windows shattered, its alarm went off, then was silenced as yet more bullets slammed into it. Tucking himself as small as he could against the side of the car, praying that the bullets wouldn;t find him. A faint smell of petrol filled the air. Finally, the sound of the guns was replaced by a light clicking as X frantically squeezed the triggers. She was empty. He heard the sound of her breathing. He risked a quick look under the car and saw her bare feet approaching the vehicle, saw the empty weapons clatter to the ground. Presumably she was coming to check he was dead...or finish the job.

Thinking quickly, Y reached up to where the bullet shattered side window obscured her view of him. He ripped the shattered safety glass away, then pulled the lock up, opening the door. He scrambled into the driver's seat, still lying low. The windscreen was mostly undamaged. Using the skills he’s learned while training, he quickly reached under the steering column and pulled out the ignition wires. Finding the correct pair, he looked up to see X creeping slowly in front o the vehicle, hunting for him. Perfect. Scooting himself round in the drivers chair but still leaning low, he placed his foot on the accelerator, put the car in gear, popped the clutch, waited until she was dead square in between the car and one of the concrete pillars….and touched the wires together.

The engine sprang to life. The car lurched forward with a squeal, the headlights briefly illuminating X’s alarmed blue eyes. He wanted to watch the impact, but he was thrown to the left by the acceleration, and to keep his foot on the pedal he had to lean further down. “Daaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!” he screamed as the Audi ploughed forward, and then there was a terrific crunch as it collided with the pillar. The airbags filled the cabin, pressing Y back into the seats.

For a minute, he just lied there. Then he was suddenly aware of the smell of burning. The car was on fire! Desperately, he wrestled with the airbags, trying to ignore the black smoke slowly starting to roil around the car. Between a gap in the deployed balloons, he could see flames licking the crushed front of the vehicle. Desperate, he crawled towards the still open driver door, finally reaching it, and crawling out, gasping in fresh air. He scrambled to his feet, and ran towards the opposite end of the car park. Behind him, the Audi exploded.

Y was knocked onto his face by the blast impact. More blood spurted from his mouth. Groaning, he pushed himself over, looking to where the flaming wreck of the car was wrapped around the pillar. Suddenly, it was raining. The emergency sprinkler system had come on, and somewhere alarms were sounding. Y staggered to his feet, and tore off the remains of his white shirt. He stood, bloody and topless, the water sleuthing over him. Slowly, he turned around to head for the bariered exit.

And walked straight into a roundhouse kick so powerful it damn near took his head off.

As he went flying off his feet, Y was treated to a spectacular sight. X was drenched in the sprinkler system’s downpour, her little black dress clinging to her fit physique. Her leg was suspended upright, slowly arching back down after delivering the awesome kick, water sleuthing off her incredible thigh and calf. He just caught a wince on her mouth as she completed the maneuver, she had opted to kick him with her hurt foot, likely relying on her good foot to plant her. It was likely the right choice, Y mused as he crashed onto his side like a rag doll. That kick had been perfect. He reckoned it was only the freezing rush of the sprinkler water on his face keeping him awake.

X prowled around him as he rolled onto his back, bringing his hands to his face, watching as they were coated with blood which was washed away by the artificial rain. He started to say something, even though he wasn't sure what, when she nailed another kick - this time a stomp with her good foot - into his abs, which buckled under the impact. He lurched, coughed blood, and rolled back onto his side, turning fetal. He felt half dead already.

“I believe I said playtime was over!” yelled X above the noise of the alarms and the sprinklers. Y became aware of her positioning herself above him, straddling his side. He tried to throw his left arm up in a punch, which proved to be a mistake. X caught his wrist, twisted it brutally to the right, and at the same time dropped her knee onto the side of his head. Y screamed as a popping sensation was felt in his shoulder, followed by a flood of pain. She fucking disloated my arm! He thought helplessly, although he had a feeling this could soon be the least of his problems. X meanwhile threw his now rubbery arm to the side and instead grabbed his other one, dragging it between her wet legs even as she dropped to his side. Holy fuck she’s going to break me one limb at a time! Y thought as his right arm started to torque at an unnatural angle. When it reached breaking point, X - while using her left leg to keep him secured down - brought her right leg up and angled her right foot with its swollen toe at Y’s mouth. “Suck it.”

Y couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. This agent really was a sadist! But perhaps this could be used to his advantage….

“Oh, and if you're thinking about biting, I’ll rip your arm off.” Said X. Y nodded submissively. He had no choice for now, and - absurdly - found himself opening his mouth to allow X to shove her dirty foot with its swollen toe in. “Suck it, loser.” She said, and suddenly rammed her foot in. Y gagged. Her toes were pressing against his tonsils, he was suffocating on her foot! What a way to go… he thought, panicking. His teeth grazed against her ankles. His instinct was to bite, and bite hard. He coughed, his body spasming on the floor. If I bite she’d break my other arm, he thought. But if I don’t, I’m going to die like this! His eyes darted as far as they could to his right. X was torging his arm while looking down at him sadistically. “Yeah, that’s it rookie. Choke on it. You thought you could break my toe? My foot is breaking you. Eat it! EAT IT!”

Y gagged around her leg. Her foot was in his throat all the way up to the bottom of her calf now. He tried to cry out in surrender, but just gagged. Bile tried to come up his throat, but was quickly forced back down by her foot.

“Yeah.” continued X. “It’s like being fucked in the mouth, isn’t it? I’m foot fucking you in the mouth, rookie!”

Y’s vision was starting to fade. He was going to die like this. He had to bite. It was a cost, his arm for a life. He’d seen a film once about a man who had to cut off his arm to survive after getting trapped by a falling boulder. This was just like that. An arm for a life. He looked again at X, who had tilted her head back, laughing with crazy pleasure. He shut his eyes and braced his aching jaw to bite down.

The sound of roaring engines filled the carpark. Y opened his eyes. Three matte black SUVs drove through the barrier and entered the car park, window wipers clearing the sprinkler rain. All three pulled in front of X & Y, momentarily blinding them. X slapped the wet ground in frustration and withdrew her foot from Y’s mouth. He coughed, gasping for breath as half a dozen figures poured out of the vehicles.

Who were they? Were they X’s people, or his?

The new arrivals drew weapons. “Hands up!” They yelled. X had gotten to her feet and was holding her hands aloft. Y held his one good arm up, trying to work out if the other was properly broken or just dislocated.

Both X and Y squinted, the newcomers still in silhouette against the bright headlights.

“You're both coming with us.” said a gruff voice.

To be continued….
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Old 17-Oct-21, 16:55
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Default Re: X vs Y

PART 2


Agent Y sat on the floor of the cell where the mysterious armed men had put him. He rubbed his arm as he thought about his - and Agent X’s - predicament. It was still a little sore from where X had dislocated it, but a medic from their captors team had kindly popped it back into place. The question remained though - who were they? What did they want?


Through the bars, in the cell across from his, he could see Agent X restlessly prowling the small space like a tigress in a cage. She was dressed in the same plain grey jumpsuit that he’d been given, but she still managed to look stunning, her blonde hair tied back, piercing blue eyes visible even in the low light. “We should work together!” He called out for the tenth time. “If they ever come back with the key, we should team up, help eachother out…”


Agent X snarled back. “If they ever let me anywhere near you, I’m going to finish what I started and ram my foot back down your throat, rookie!”


Agent Y sighed. “Still angry about me breaking your toe, huh?”


“Just a scratch, loser. It’s pretty much healed up now anyway.”


“Maybe next time it’ll be your neck.” Muttered Y.


“I heard that! I’m going to…”


X was interrupted as the sound of hissing came through the vents in their cells. “What is this...gas??” said X, and then Y saw her topple to the floor in her cell.


“Gas…” croaked Y as his vision went blurry, then he blacked out too.


***

When Y came too, he was on the cold concrete floor of another room. He slowly opened his eyes. It was a cube about 15 foot square with no windows. Faulty strip lighting on the ceiling cast everything in a flickering yellow hew. There was just one steel door, and it was closed with no handle on the inside. He’d been stripped to just a tight pair of black boxer shorts. As he started to get up, he froze. Agent X was in the room with him, also just starting to get up.


The other Agent had been stripped to just a super tight pair of hotpants, cut extra short, which showed off her long legs. She had been left topless, and her pert, no-nonsense breasts glowed in the strange light. On seeing him she sprung into her combat stance, legs a shoulder width apart and arms up and ready. She seemed completely unselfconscious about being almost naked.


Y mimicked her, throwing his arms into a cross shape and getting his legs planted. Still, he tried to negotiate. “You should reconsider my offer of a truce.”


“Why should I? I can kick your ass just as easily here.”


“I wouldn’t be so sure, X. I almost had you in the parking lot. Anyway, we don’t know why we’re here, what they want us to do…”


“Isn’t it obvious? They don’t want to waste resources on keeping both of us! They want us to fight to the death.” X’s eyes flashed with eager anticipation.


“We don’t know that…” said Y, still circling her warily. “We should inquire as to their loyalties…”


“Enquire about THIS!” And with that X jumped forward and fired a brutal front snap kick at Y’s block. Agent Y gritted his teeth and stood his ground, holding up his crossed arms as a shield. However the force from the kick was so strong that it punched clean through his block and snagged his shoulder. His stinging arms seemed to vibrate from the impact as he staggered back into the wall, gasping.


X didn’t stop. Seeing him on the defensive, she darted forwards, firing off a series of machine-gun rapid kicks. He tried to block his face - if any of these caught his head, he was done for - but she countered by dropping low and kicking his legs out from under him. As he buckled to his knees Y realised this situation was very bad, he was backed against the wall, off his feet and at the mercy of X’s legs. She might well just kick him to death. He palmed the wall behind him and tried to scale back to his feet, but X’s foot lashed out again, and caught him by the throat. He gagged as she slowly bent her planted knee, pinning his windpipe to the wall with the sole of her right foot.


At this moment, Y truely believed that X was some sort of unconquerable goddess. As she loomed over him, blue eyes boring down, with her legs parted in a perfect upside down V as she foot choked him, she seemed to realise it too, even placing her hand on her hot-panted hip and thrusting out her breasts in triumph. “Yeah, that’s it rookie. Choke on my foot. You feel that? That’s your throat collapsing under my foot, under the power of my leg, under myyyyyyyyiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” X’s monologue was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream.


In a flash of inspiration, Y had found a second wind: he grabbed hold of X’s ankle with both hands, dropped from his knees to his ass, and threw his legs up around her right thigh. He then twisted, pulled her off balance, and dragged her to the floor in a legbar, gasping as her foot slipped off his throat. Once he had her down, he pulled hard whilst squeezing with his legs. The scream which came out of X’s mouth was music to his ears. “What’s….that….tough….bitch?” Growled Y, still breathless from the choke.


X frantically tried to pull her leg free, but Y held firm. It was like wrestling with a snake though. To get a better grip, Y rolled onto his left side, away from the wall, pulling X’s hot leg harder into the hold. He watched as her knee started to bend at an unnatural angle. “HOLY FUCK MY LEG! MY LEEGGG!” screamed the blonde, and then started frantically kicking out with her free left foot, slamming it into Y’s side. It hurt like fuck but there was no way he was letting go.


“Wahhhh, my leg!” Said Y, mockingly, trying not to wince at the side kicks as he pulled her leg harder. “What were you saying about the “power of your leg?” You dislocated my arm last time we did this, bitch, now it's payback! I’m going to break your precious leg!”



“WAIT...DON’T…” yelled X, but Y wasn’t having any of it. He continued to roll, almost onto his front, turning his back to her, while clovering his legs tighter round hers. He felt the limb start to buckle in his grip…


A stray kick from X’s other foot caught him in the small of his back, sending a jangle up his spine. He loosened his grip just slightly, and it was enough for the desperate X to pull free. Y swore as the slippery blonde scrambled away, but as he got to his feet he noticed with satisfaction that she was in a bad way, limping as she staggered upright. He grinned.


“Let’s see how you fight with a dead leg, EX!” He said, smirking and putting himself in a kickboxers stance.


X snarled and lunged forward for some kind of punch, but she tottered slightly, and Y was easily able to sidestep and let off a punishment snap kick - to her bad leg. X squealed and dropped to one knee, and Y fell on her like a hungry predator. Without thinking, he grabbed her blonde ponytail and dragged her backwards. “I think it's time for your favourite assassination move, X.” He said, barely able to contain his excitement as he dropped to his back, dragging the back of X’s neck into his hard crotch.


“W….wait…” stammered the other fighter, but Y was already locking his legs, one over the other, imprisoning X’s neck between his muscular thighs. He snapped his ankles together with authority.


“It’s a lot easier if you don’t struggle…” he said, mockingly, then thrust his hips up, palmed the floor in a reverse push up, and clenched his thighs together in a brutal scissorhold. He was rewarded with a spasmic jerk of X’s body, her good leg frantically kicking around, then her fingers grabbing hold of his knees. Her surprisingly firm biceps swelled as she tried to pull his legs apart. “...then again, maybe it makes no difference.” He crooned, laughing. “SUFFER!”


On that last word, Y jerked his thighs and tightened the hold even harder. A strangled gurgle came from somewhere near his crotch. He looked down and saw X’s blonde head imprisoned like a trophy, saw her fingers frantically trying to get purchase on his thighs. He tossed his head back and howled. Now he saw why she killed like this. The feeling of having this powerful fighter at his mercy between his legs, her neck against his crotch, was orgasmic. It was like riding a powerful motorbike, albeit one which was rapidly running out of fuel.


X’s hands stopped pawing at his thighs and tried to reach behind her head to locate his genitals. She wasn’t going to have a hard time, his cock was huge against the boxers, so he grabbed her wrists and pulled them back, completely immobilising her. “You’re mine…” he snarled, and rolled to his side, flexing his thighs again for a final death squeeze.


He hesitated. The only problem with this hold was that he couldn’t see her face. He wanted to mock her, to show her it was he who had defeated her. I’m turning into her he thought.


But it was too much to pass off. He pulsed his thighs again and then opened them, kicking her away. She was barely conscious, rolling onto her back like a rag doll. Her face had gone a sickly purple colour, although it started to go merely red as her breasts heaved in the flickering light, air rushing into her lungs again. He would have to act fast.


Standing over her, he looked her straight in her bulging eyes, then dropped his knee onto her throat. She gagged, hands trying to push it away, but he had sapped her strength with the scissor. “Yes…” he said. “Feel your throat collapsing under my knee, under the power of my leg, under….”


Her left foot smacked into the back of his head. It wasn’t the hardest of kicks, but it put him off balance, and he fell forward. Snarling, he rolled back to his feet. “You’ll pay for…” X lunged.


He’d been expecting her to be too out of it to mount a counter attack. He’d been wrong. Launching off of her good leg, X fired a perfect uppercut to her chin with what must have been all of her remaining energy. To Y’s shock he found his feet briefly leaving the floor before he dropped onto his ass, dazed. Wasting no time, X snapped her left knee into his face.

Y heard a sickening crunch and watched in slow motion as an arc of blood sailed from his ruined nose behind his head. He dropped back to the floor even as X fell on him. He started to try and sit up but her thighs slammed into his shoulders. Then she started to punch his head. Again. And again. And again.


She looked completely crazed as she did this, blonde hair now out of the pony tail and flying everywhere, her sweat spray mingling with the blood particles that were flying from his mouth. “HOW…” Smack. “DARE…” Smash. “YOU…” Try…” she screamed as she rained punches down on him in a nightmare ground-and-pound.


At some point, she stopped. To Y, the world was a red blur of pain. He was dimly aware of her standing, still limping slightly. He rolled to his side and coughed blood. He saw her circling him, watched helplessly as she lowered herself to one knee, slipped his neck under the calf of her left (good) leg, and dropped down to crush his throat between her thigh and shin. “Night night, rookie…” she said.


Darkness came quickly.

***

Y was surprised when he awoke back in his cell. Getting up, he brought his hand to his ruined face and found that someone had applied a lot of stitches. Slowly, he looked to the cell opposite.


X was sitting upright on her bunk, watching him. Her right leg was in a support bandage but she otherwise looked unharmed.


“You...you didn’t kill me…” He stammered.


“No…” she said. “I’ve been thinking about this place, our captives. Why are they hunting us?” And I’ve reconsidered our truce.”


He could tell she didn’t like this conclusion by the way she hissed when she said it: “I need your help to break us free. Then we’ll settle this for good.”


To be continued...
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Old 29-May-22, 08:24
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Default Re: X vs Y

PART 3

“Help! We need some help here!”

Y banged on the bars of his cell and yelled as loud as he could. Across from him, X was hanging by the neck from a bunch of rolled up bedsheets. I really hope this plan works, he thought. His nemesis’ face was starting to turn blue. “Help!” He banged harder, worried for a moment that the guards wouldn’t hear.

Finally, the sound of urgent footsteps echoed down the hall Like most of their captors, the female guard that arrived was dressed in unmarked, police style body armor. She had a muscular physique and an attitude that came with thinking she was completely in control. On seeing X dangling from her noose, she muttered “Shit…” under her breath and fumbled her keys, unlocking the cell. Y later wondered if she'd have chosen her word more carefully if she knew it would be her last.

The guard entered the cell and approached X, clearly intending to grab her legs and prevent the suicide. Their mysterious captors clearly wanted them alive, but feelings weren’t mutual. As soon as she was in range, X struck. Her legs suddenly opened, then snapped shut around the guards neck. Y watched as the material of X’s prisoner jumpsuit sealed shut around the poor woman’s throat like an orange snake. She didn’t even have time to scream. X violently twisted her hips, and a terrible SNAP echoed round the cells. The guard's body dropped to the floor like a sack of bones.

X gingerly lowered herself to the floor, the fake noose discarded, and picked up the keys. As she approached Y’s cell, she toyed with them, swiveling the keyring round her index finger.

“You know, you didn’t have to kill her. You could have just choked her out” said Y.

“You know, I could just leave you in here.” teased X, tossing her blonde ponytail behind her.

Y’s heart sped up a few beats. “And fight your way out of here on your own?”


“You doubt I could?”

Y tried to stay calm. X was a formidable fighter, it was true. “I’m surprised the plan worked, after I nearly broke your leg.”

“That was over a week ago. It’s completely healed,” said X, finally unlocking Y’s cell. He stretched and they both headed down the corridor. As they reached the exit, X put her finger to her lips. Another guard was waiting around the corner. Y nodded, then ran up behind the man, twisting his arm behind his back, grabbing his sidearm and ramming the barrel up against his neck.

“One word, and I shoot, are we clear?” The man nodded. “Who are you working for?” Y asked as they pushed their captive through the corridors. With its pristine white walls, the facility had more of the feel of a hospital or research facility than a prison.

“Classified,” mumbled the man.

“Wrong answer” said X, and punched him in the kidney. The man squealed.

“Shouldn’t we get out of here before we integrate him?” said Y. X was just opening her mouth to reply when an alarm went off and the corridor was bathed in red light. The door at the end opened and four guards appeared, brandishing a mixture of truncheons and weapons. Y grabbed their captive around the neck and pointed his weapon at his head. “Drop your weapons or…” The man’s body jerked as the lead guard pumped three rounds into him. Damn thought Y as the hostage slumped to the floor. He looked at X desperately. “Now what?”

***

The guards took the newly recaptured X and Y to an open courtyard area with a dusty pit in the center. On a large seat which could only be described as a throne, a hooded figure sat. It looks like some sort of cult thought X. A cult with a fight fetish?

Both agents were roughly pushed into the pit.

Y turned to face the hooded figure. “We’re not just going to fight to the death for your amusement. Are we?” He added, turning to X. She grunted something that he hoped was an affirmation. The hooded figure stood and raised a pointed finger behind them. Slowly, Y turned around and his mouth dropped open in shock.

A large cinema screen had been set up behind the pit. On the screen were five hooded hostages and a balaclava’d man with a silenced pistol. As Y watched in shock, the figure pointed the gun at the back of the first hostage’s head.

The hooded figure spoke, a feminine purr coming from within the cowl. “You will fight. Every minute that both of you is alive, we shoot a hostage.” And with that she removed an ornate looking stopwatch and pressed the timer.

X and Y turned to look at eachother.

“Maybe we should…” Y started to say, but X was already in the air. Before Y could even draw breath she leaped, her right leg pistoning up to collide with Y’s solar plexus. Y felt like a bus had just hit him as he went flying back, the wind knocked completely from his lungs, his chest feeling like there were things rattling around in there. Scrabbling around on the floor of the pit, he’d barely gotten to his knees when X slipped behind him.

“Sorry Y. Its for the best..” She said, lacing her arms around his neck and chin and tensing. Y’s eyes went wide as he stared into the dark cowl of the hooded woman. Maybe it would be best just to let X snap his neck and thus save the hostages…but what did all the training say? Never negotiate with terrorists. And in any case, he could see the stopclock, only 15 seconds had passed.

Snarling, Y made a V for victory sign with his right hand and fired it back over his shoulder into X’s blue eyes just as she tried to complete the snap. X let out a squeal and released her hold, and Y quickly powered to his feet. Without even turning round, he fired his right leg behind him in a brutal back kick, his prison plimsole burying itself in Xs abs. Grinning, he turned around to see her bent double, clutching her stomach.

“Sorry X. It’s for the best” he responded, mockingly, then moved forward to grab her head in both his hands as she was bent over. Just a quick twist….

The bottom of X’s plimsole smacked into his nose with a dull crunch. Staggering back, Y just had time to see X’s orange jumpsuit clad leg arch back down from where it had arched over her shoulder. A scorpion kick, thought Y. Guess her leg really is healed!

For her part X didn’t immediately follow up, she was blinking hard and wiping her eyes which looked quite bloodshot from his strike. He was tempted to close in and finish her then, but he knew she was still very dangerous. The two combatants were circling each other wearily, when in his peripherals Y noticed the hooded woman press the stop of her stopwatch and nod at the screen.

“Wait! NO….” yelled Y but it was too late. On the screen, the man with the pistol pulled the trigger, sending a thin line of red spray through the first hostages hood, who then slumped forward.

“You bit….” Y started to say, but then X’s knee crashed into his jaw. Y staggered sideways from the flying knee strike as a thick line of blood drool came from his mouth.

“Uh….X….wait….” he started to say, but X wasn’t waiting. A brutal shin kick collided with his left lower rib with an alarming “pop”. Then another to his left thigh. His right shoulder. His arms, which were now cradling his head. Now on the floor, the whole world was an orange blur as X rained kick after brutal kick down.

“It’s….for….the…..best!” Said X as she delivered death-from-above. Y realized he wasn’t going to get out of this conventionally. When the next kick came in for his head, he jerked once and went limp. To be honest, it wasn’t too much of an act. His mouth tasted metallic with blood.

“He’s done,” said X to the hooded woman.

“Make sure…” she said, but X heard the click of the stopwatch being reset. A whole other 60 seconds… he thought. Could he finish X in that time?

He heard X approach and crouch next to him, then her fingers coming to his right wrist to check for a pulse. His eyes snapped open and he grabbed her hand. The look of surprise in her pretty blue eyes was priceless, but he had no time to enjoy it. A click came from behind them as the stopwatch restarted.

In a flash, Y swiveled his hips around and threw his legs up, encircling X’s head and neck in a triangle as she crouched next to him. She tried to power up to her feet, but he pulled on her wrist, dragging her deeper into the hold. Using his other hand to grab his own instep he flexed his legs, and was rewarded with a gasp from the trapped blonde, whose mouth was just inches from the crotch of his jumpsuit. It would have been a hell of a turn-on if the situation wasn’t literally life or death.

“It’s for the best…” he panted almost apologetically as he worked the hold. X was struggling mightily but his adductors had her carotids in a blood choke and she was starting to go purple. “This won’t take long…” said Y to the hooded woman. “Stop the watch. I’ll….aiiiiiii!”

With her free hand, X had grabbed onto Y’s crotch through the prisoner jumpsuit material. Y screamed in shock, his triangle loosening, his fighter instinct momentarily abandoning him as nature overrode it with a single imperative: protect the crown jewels! Releasing her hand he grabbed at her wrist with both hands, somehow breaking her grip and kicking her away. She rolled to her feet, face still red but clearly back in the game. He did the same, trying not to wince as he stood up.

“Fifteen seconds…” said the hooded woman, and suddenly they both rushed each other. Y threw a left hook. X blocked it and tried to drive her knee into Y’s aching crotch. Y clenched his thighs at the last minute, trapping her leg, and tried to palm her face to push her off balance. X instead grabbed his wrist and bent it back so hard he thought it might break, so he released her and pushed her away.

“Five seconds….”

Y somehow got behind X and made a grab for her neck, but she quickly hip checked him, grabbed his wrist and hip tossed him hard to the floor. “Three…” Before he knew what was happening she dropped next to him and lock her calves around his neck. “Two….” He squealed as he heard her ankles lock, her eyes narrowed as she tossed her head back almost orgasmically and violently jerked her hips. “One…”

SNAP. Y’s world went dark.

***

Y gasped awake, instinctively grabbing for his neck. Where am I? He was on a mattress made of some kind of gel in a room of low blue light. Some sort of helmet with wires was on his head. Next to the bed was a man in a doctor’s white coat and a woman in full military dress.

“Welcome back, Lieutenant Oakley.”

“Who….” Y started to say and then remembered. That was his name. Jim Oakley.

“Your simulation score is improving,” continued the female major. “But one hostage still was executed.” And you lost to Agent Anna “X” Bridgehouse. Three times.”

“I almost had her…” Jim said, still rubbing his neck.

“Almost isn’t good enough, soldier. But she clearly enjoyed herself. In fact, she’s challenged you to another simulation fight. A night fight, in a city under fire, both of you in skintight combat gear. Do you accept?”

Jim could barely contain his excitement. “YES!”

The doctor made some adjustments to his head set. “Good hunting, Agent Y. Immersion in 3,2,1….”

To be continued!
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