Come into my Parlour...

Alicia and knockouts were old friends. Mostly, not from bodyscissors because those were tricky to manage in a ring, but kicks, headscissors, chokes of varying sorts… She’d been there, done that, got the wins to prove it.

So she knew the signs and relented at the cusp before Dmitri dropped off. She’d probably be knocking him out sooner or later. But not yet. For one, repeated knockouts were risking brain damage and… No. Just no.

That was not a part of the plan.

Taking him to the edge again and again, though; that she could do and would. Then she’d take him over once she was done and leave him to snooze.

The hands pushing at her legs weren’t helping him, really.

Notably, if Dmitri hadn’t been able to move them before, he really didn’t stand a chance now she’d wrung him out like a rag. The Amazonian redhead rode out the post-near-knockout twitchings, fending off his arms with her own and simply ignoring the futile pushes at her thighs. He probably would have slid out but, before it came to that, she was going to move anyway.

Unlocking her ankles, Alicia went to shift her position so that she was straddling the abdomen she’d just been abusing, settling her toned ass – and with it her full weight – firmly on his midriff. Because that would clearly do his breathing a world of good, not to mention the fact that she was no waif. It wasn’t going to be comfortable at all. Not to mention, those thighs would still be pressed firmly against his sides. Not squeezing, but a solid, warm reminder of what she could do to him if she chose.

Once she was seated atop her opponent, she surveyed what was left of him, that smirk curling her lips as she pondered what to do next.

”Now what do you think of my legs?” She mused, more to herself than Dmitri and not really expecting a reply. Between the wheezing and the Russian and the Japanese, she’d understood about one word in three but if he was praying already…

Well, she thought she’d got the gist of it.

It was funny, but Dmitri had never really noticed how sweet fresh air tasted until he’d been deprived of it for so long. Granted, the air in this room wasn’t exactly the freshest, still carrying the taste of past sweats - and perhaps a few tears, he was beginning to suspect - but it was a soothing balm to his aching lungs and throat, a welcomed chill across his body. Oxygen starved and aching down the middle, he was grateful for even this small reprieve.

It was a small and brief reprieve, too, because he’d scarcely had the chance to enjoy it before she was on him again. Alicia was not a fat woman, not close to that in any sense of the word, but that didn't mean she was light. Muscle weighs more than fat, and her body was a testament to that as her hardened backside pressed against his wrecked stomach, dropping on the remains of his abs.

That alone would’ve been enough to keep him pressed against the ground, but the threat above was nothing compared to the ones at his side. Her thighs tightened against him like some ancient and barbaric torture device, a hellish contraption meant to squeeze information from unwilling lips. He squirmed against them and found no give, no movement, no chance of making them bulge. She might as well have tied him up with chains.

Hell, he would've preferred that. Iron chains didn't actively squeeze you.

He didn't answer her question. Partly because it seemed rhetorical, partly because he didn't want to waste his precious energy and oxygen on talking. He had better uses for them.

Dmitri had to think. Needed to concentrate. This was still a spar, albeit one that wasn't going well for him in the least. More to the point, he desperately wanted Alicia to get off of him, and she didn't seem inclined to do that on her own. He'd have to make her. Or try.

He took a deep breath then jutted up as much as she could, throwing a couple of wild punch at Alicia’s chest, hoping to catch her off guard. It could just make her mad, but frankly, couldn't imagine this situation getting too much worse. Might as well try.

It was just as well she hadn’t expected an answer because she didn’t get one. And, she didn’t mind. Verbal domination hadn’t ever been Alicia’s style. She preferred her actions to speak for her and, as her opponents to date had found out, rarely spoke so much as a word during a match.

Seriously though, what next? Arms? Legs? Neck?

Alicia hadn’t been expecting any real resistance after that and so, while his attempt to buck her off was pretty feeble, it was still enough to shift her given how little attention she’d been paying to staying in mount. Particularly with the two punches. Again, not really thinking he’d fight back, the big redhead rocked back as his fists struck her, grunting with surprise as much as pain. And the combination of the two was enough to achieve what he’d clearly been after – to get her off him.

Although Alicia wasn’t that mad because he’d just made exactly the same mistake as he’d done before. In trying to get her off him, he’d made it almost embarrassingly easy for her to win.

As she rolled off to the side, there was the temptation to go for another bodyscissors, given he just kept offering up his ribs for her, but she didn’t. Dmitri was going to put up a fight. And that was awesome. She loved it.

Besides, the kickboxer knew she could finish him right now. And, as she rolled away to come up in a cat-like crouch, eyes bright with a dangerous light and her grin wider if anything, she knew he’d know it too.

Right now, she was contemplating getting her legs around something else but she wanted to see what he’d do now.

Dmitri hadn’t been expecting too much when he lashed out - it was more like an attack from a cornered rat than any real attempt at earnest offense. He was a passive sort by nature, but he wasn’t above fighting back, especially when any number of his ribs were on the line.

Dmitri was spry on his slowest day, but rarely did he move faster in his life than when Alicia got off his stomach. He rolled away and popped back to his feet with a sudden bounce, returning to his classic stance.

He instantly regretted it.

Dmitri’s body was nowhere near ready for the sudden strain. No sooner had he stood up than his aching midsection forced him back down to a knee, groaning as he grasped it and winced at the searing pain. It hurt. It hurt just to breath, let alone move with it. That was a real big problem for a fighter who used kicks - his best strikes relied on his whole body for the best impact. Weakening a link in that chain was going to reduce his impact by spades.

Judging from the look in Alicia’s face, she knew it. He was reminded of a lion on one of the documentaries he fancied, prowling the Savannah, closing in on some gazelle who couldn’t possible realize how short his life was about to become.

But he wouldn't just be the victim, here. He was, if nothing else, a good learner, and he’d taken this lesson well - no matter what, he could not let her get those thighs around him again. That meant he had to press the attack, because if Alicia was given that opportunity, he’d wind up in the same place again. Or worse.

Dmitri gritted his teeth and forced his way back up to his feet, fighting off the lingering pain, soldeiring through as best he could. The moment both feet were on the floor, he went back into action and closed the distance on Alicia with a quick hop. He threw out a low roundhouse kick, targeting her leg, then brought the leg back in and shot it straight out in a side kick, hoping he could push her back.

It was a gamble. His kicks didn't have quite the force he would’ve liked. But it was far better than the alternative.

Alicia watched Dmitri stand from where she was crouching with more than a little eager anticipation, particularly when it became clear how he was going to try it. He didn’t just stand, he kipped up to his feet and…

Well, what did he expect? He’d just had his… Oh never mind. She was too busy trying not to laugh as he instantly fell back to his knee, clutching at his belly like someone’d just punched him there. Smirking widely, she rose lithely to her own feet, fresh as a daisy, and spread her arms wide in a cocky, hipshot stance that was a clear invitation for him to come at her.

He was pretty quick though it was fair to say he’d have been a hell of a lot quicker before she’d pulverised his core muscles – another reason she’d worked them as hard as she had. It was almost like she knew exactly which bits to go for; odd that, you’d almost think she was a kicker herself and knew his weaknesses. As it was…

As it was, he was slowed by the pain, the breathlessness and all those brutalised muscles meaning that, while he was still fast, Alicia was always going to be that bit faster.

Unencumbered by any of his problems, the red-haired fighter got her leg up, taking his kick against the solid plank of her outer thigh with a dismissive smirk – she might as well have laughed in his face. Certainly it didn’t impede her at all a second later as she twisted at the hips to dodge the sidekick that followed. One hand went to grab his ankle, the other went to the centre of his chest and, with a sweep of his ankle, Alicia did her best to slam him down on his back again. More or less, where he’d just spent the last few minutes.

She would follow him down, looking to score that domineering mount again.

Dmitri was a patient man. He had to be. His old job required it, needed him to sit through long meeting, work late hours, toil away for the smallest gains and percentages. He was slow to anger, always, and getting on his bad side was notoriously hard to accomplish.

But he’d be damned if that smirk of Alicia’s wasn’t starting to get to him. He knew Westerners could be a bit smug, but she was just so sure of herself, so in control, so dominant that he couldn’t help but be incensed by it. She looked like she had nothing to worry about in the whole world. Him being unable to prove that wrong didn’t help.

He kept that heat in check as his first kick was effortlessly deflecting, knowing that being mad would only worsen the situation. But then his second wasn’t just avoided, but countered, and he realized the situation was going to be doing that, anyway.

“дерьмо!” A curse that would’ve reddened his mother’s cheeks came bursting out as he was taken to the ground once, and the panic in his eyes told the whole story - he knew how this could end up. He feared that fate. Deeply. ”No, God, no-”

It was a desperate time, so Dmitri tried a desperate measure. When Alicia came down on top of him, he tried to get his arms under her legs and lifted as he slid under, looking to slip out from behind her as he bridged again instead of just tossing her to the side. It wasn’t the most ideal position, but anything - anything - would be better than what he’d gone through not long ago.

Alicia didn’t speak a word of Russian. In fact, if she hadn’t known he was Russian, she wouldn’t have been able to say that was what he was speaking.

But, well, cursing was a universal language anyway and certainly in that tone.

Was she getting to him? Aww, wasn’t that a shame and pretty much blew away the credit he’d got for actively fighting back.

The big strong taekwondo fighter wasn’t doing so well. Too bad – it was going to get worse before it got better, as he was about to find out when he sent Alicia scooting forward.

Her actual plan had been to see if she could damage those legs of his a bit and she’d had a hilarious notion of just how to do that, but apparently Dmitri had other ideas. Apparently, he’d learnt his lesson about what happened when her legs wrapped around his body but she was starting to suspect he’d lost every fight he’d had in Tension.

Hadn’t he thought this through at all?

Oh well, if he insisted.

Alicia let him slide her upwards at least until her thighs were level with his neck. Then she went into action. Grabbing at his hair with one hand and using it to yank his head up between the thickest parts of her legs, the kickboxer threw her weight to the side hard. Dmitri had better think – and move – very quickly or he was going to find himself in a headscissors with those menacing thighs wrapped around his skull.

Given what she’d done to his belly, it probably didn’t take a great deal of imagination to think of what this would feel like. And, in a very short period of time, he was going to find out first hand.

Her legs kicked out, her ankles going to lace together as the pressure started to rise steadily…

There was a brief, precious moment of elation when Dmitri managed to successfully push Alicia up and got her away from his midsection. It wasn't easy - again, this was not a light woman - but he was happy with himself for at least managing to save his crushed muscles. If his abdominal a had a mouth, they’d surely thank him.

His neck, however, would probably have something more terse to say.

Dmitri’s eyes widened as he realized his dire mistake, and the familiar panic set in. Alicia’s thighs were surrounding him, quick. He tried to fight back. He slapped at her hand, hoping to pull free of her grip and slip away. He started to slip his hand in between her legs, hoping he might be able to block it somehow, lessen the force. He did everything he could think to do, but none of it mattered. Dmitri was trapped, and Alicia was going to have her way.

Her thighs slammed shut, locked and engulfed his head, covering it in a sheath of hewed muscle. He’d thought the body scissors was bad...okay, it was bad, but this was worse in every way.

More painful, as his most vital bones were compressed and stretched to an insane degree.

More distressing, since his neck was on the line, and real, permanent damage was a strong possibility.

More humiliating, since his face was close to a less than flattering position.

It all equaled up to an unflinching, pressing desire to not be trapped like this for a second longer than necessary, and he went into full fight-or-flight mode. Dmitri beat away at her thighs and tried to maneuver his body around enough to hit her in the back with a couple of kicks. It might’ve amounted to nothing much more than flailing, but since he’d probably be unconscious soon, he didn't see the harm in trying.

While Dmitri had said he didn’t know how to grapple, she hadn’t realised he meant it this literally. Honestly, Alicia almost thought he was trying to set her up for some of these holds – he certainly had a habit of sticking bits of his body into the metaphorical lion’s jaws. And while he might have had a slim excuse the first time, although not after she’d specifically told him of her fondness for bodyscissors, he really had no excuse for making it so easy for her to squeeze his head.

His face, what she could see of it, was red and rapidly going purple, his eyes bulging in their sockets again as he frantically and futilely flapped as her thighs.

All he was going to achieve was to get a good feel of her upper limbs, of the steely muscle hidden under her smooth skin as the lethal vice mounted steadily around him. Not that he’d appreciate it much now, given how clearly he was panicking.

And he was a kicker so, in a panic, he did what came naturally – he kicked.

Alicia took the first kick to her back with a displeased hiss but she met the second by tightening her scissors until she fancied she could hear his skull starting to creak under the pressure. Pushing up on her arms and arching her back to add to the compression, the redhead threw her head back as she ramped her hold up, ignoring his flutterings as she went to take him to the absolute edge of unconsciousness again.

And again, right before he was going to black out, Alicia let him go. This time, she didn’t wait or go for the pin. Instead, she spun around so that their bodies were paralleling each other, both Dmitri and her on their sides so she could look him in the eye. She wanted to see what his face looked like after this one. Certainly, she really didn’t think he’d be kicking her after this one.

Dmitri was reminded of the last time he’d been forced into slumber, when he’d needed to have an operation on his teeth, and the dentist knocked him out for it. They’d asked him to count down from fifty, and there was this slow seeping away of his consciousness, slipping into a hazy dream. He remembered it being comforting. A pleasant, warm experience.

This was a lot like that. Only in hell.

He’d thought the pain couldn't get worse, that he was at the zenith, but Alicia just kept proving him wrong on that point and so many others. When she pushed up and ramped up the pressure, it didn't even feel like he was being choked by human thighs anymore. This was a noose around his neck, slamming down with bone-cracking pressure. Ligaments were threatening to tear, muscles were screaming for release, and he heard something crack in his skull - he wasn't sure what, but he knew the doctor would tell him when he visited the emergency room later today. Assuming he could walk there.

Dmitri didn’t really do anything from that point. He didn't need to. His body acted on its own accord, going into a spastic fit, convulsing and jumping and whipping around. Maybe one of his limbs would hit her, maybe it wouldn't. He wasn't trying to hit her anymore. He was just trying to survive.

And failing. His brain was closing up shop for the second time, running down, growing darker…

”Huuuuuuh!” His lungs automatically sucked in oxygen, taking one big gulp with a bunch of smaller ones behind. ”Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh!” Dmitri laid on his side, arms and legs limply splayed, while he focused on the simple task of breathing like a normal person.

He had an audience for it, too, as Alicia laid on her side and watched him with the cold, violet eyes he was so coming to fear. ”Why-” He breathlessly muttered. ”Why are you...ohGodohGod…”