D.Va Draws First Blood

Hana was led into a cell, the entrance covered by bars. Two of the guards stood out front, while the third and Roadhog went in with her. Roadhod nodded to him and the guard took Hana firmly by the wrist and brought her over to the back wall, where she saw with some apprehension there was a set of manacles attached to it by a short chain. "Kinky, I know," Roadhog said, "But we need you staying put for a while, instead of rumning around crying and looking for that outfit of yours."

Hana scowled at him in response as the guard **** her hands up over her head and placed them into a manacle each, clinking them shut and locking them. Hana was now **** into a standing position, her arms kept up as they were chained to the wall above her, she hardly dared to look down, knowing that her pink-tipped Boobies were probably jutting forward in scandalous fashion.

"Be grateful you kept the knickers," Roadhog added, "Would have been easy for me to tear those right off with everything else,"

Hana reddened slightly at the thought of those hands on her waist, ripping her last remaining bit of coverage harshly off of her. She looked away, and Roadhog chuckled again in that croaky, booming way of his. "Alright, sit tight for now, sweetheart. Be back in a few hours," and with that he turned round and left her there, taking the guard who had chained her with him and leaving the other two to guard her. They stood sentinel in front of the bars, their backs turned to her, and while they did, Hana began to formulate the beginnings of a plan.

She wasn't going to sit here and let something else happen to her, there'd been enough passiveness, enough humiliation to last her a lifetime. Now things had reached a critical juncture, her carefully cultivated public image torpedoed by these men, these...bastards, in minutes. Hana Song was not a girl who suffered indignity upon indignity with nothing to show for it; she'd tossed out Jun Dei when his interminable joking about her 'dumplings' finally made her snap, she'd dispensed with Adam Hargreaves when he'd gotten a little too used to the smoothness caused by her putting talc on her nethers, and started demanding she shave every inch of her body before they so much as felt each other up on the sofa. That was who she was; she'd picked the handle 'D.Va' for a reason, she didn't like to compromise, never had. She didn't accept unfair or ridiculous situations like the one she was currently in lying down. As she thought all of this, she felt the rage returning, burning within her like that fire on her posterior, and as she grew more furious and worked up, she felt a shift within herself.

Hana Song was growing weary, perhaps it was time for her to take a different tack; perhaps it was time...for D.Va to take centre stage. When at public engagements or at fan events, she went to his headspace where she thought of herself more as D.Va than Hana. A little bit of psychological trickery Zenyatta had inspired her to pursue, during one of her dark periods. She went to that place now, and as she hung there, acid green panties shining like a beacon in the dim light of the dungeon, D.Va finally arrived.

"Ok..." She whispered to herself, "Mama's ready."

She started by calling out to her guards. "Hey! Hey you!"

The guards turned to face her, one after the other. "She talkin' to us?" One asked the other, "I believe she is, Orville."

The one called Orville went to unlock the door, then poked his head through it. "What do you suppose the little princess has to say to us, Martin?"

"Probably a **** plea for us to let her go," Martin sighed, "Sad, really."

"That's not it!" D.Va blurted out, "I just...I'm cold, and I-I'm lonely here. I just want some company, maybe...oh, it sounds silly, but someone to hold me a little? Tell me it'll be okay? Maybe..." She bit her lip seductively, "A little more?"

Both men snorted loudly and went back to their posts, the one called Orville swinging the door shut, but not locking it. D.Va rattled her chains slightly, putting a bit more whininess into her voice:

"Aww, come on, Mr. Guard..."

The guards tried their best to ignore her, but Orville? Orville was beginning to crack. He looked at her surreptitiously over his own shoulder, and as he locked eyes with her she batted her eyelashes coquettishly and tried again. "It's so awfully cold in here, and so...mmm...lonely."

He turned a little, and she saw she was starting to get to him. Laying it on a little thicker, she twisted slowly on the spot, gyrating her hips a little. "I just want a little...company. Just for a little while, it's not like I'll be able to escape. I'm all..." She made a show of looking up at her manacled wrists, then back down at the guard, biting her lip again softly, "...Tied up. Safe and sound. I mean, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to do anything. Even if someone wanted to do something to me, anything at all...well, I'd be defenceless. I'd have to just hang here while they..." She pouted, "Had their way with me."

The guard visibly gulped, and Hana sealed the deal by pushing her chest out, as if offering her boobies to him. They hung there, achingly plump and so very difficult to resist, her nipples a little puffy from the drop in temperature, "C'mon," she murmured, sweetly. "They're all yours," He stared lustfully at her chest, one head clearly getting the better of the other, then took a few clumsy steps toward her. As he approached, his tongue out like that of a hungry dog, D.Va opened her legs to receive him, and he pressed into her, his stiffening member struggling against his trousers. "Yes..." She moaned, while he planted ravenous kisses on the side of her neck, but her eyes were open all the while, burning with cunning. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and as he started grinding up against her, his crotch slamming lightly into her own panty-covered groin again and again, she reached up with dextrous toes and plucked his set of keys right off his belt. She jerked her foot up and they clinked to the floor, right behind Orville, and both Orville and Martin turned to look at them.

"Jesus, will you be careful with those, man? You think Rutledge is gonna be impressed if those go missing because you were busy molesting our prisoner?"

Orville waved him dismissively off, "I'll get 'em when I'm done here," then Martin turned back around, shaking his head. D.Va saw another opening and pushed down on him with her legs. "Please...on your knees?"

Orville was all too happy to oblige, and he knelt before her, face level with those green, green panties of hers. She smiled, quickly reached up with her feet, hooked them round the back of his head and pulled it forwards, his head conking against the stone wall, sending him right to dreamland. D.Va exhaled slowly, then looked up, seeing Martin was still looking away, not having heard her attack. She stretched out her leg and, with some difficulty, managed to pick the keys back up with her big toe — it worked beneath the slightly-translucent cotton of the sock that covered it, stretching the material up a little — and bring them toward her. Finally, she bent her leg upwards, placing the keys into her own grasping hands.

D.Va quickly shifted them, working them into the lock and undoing the manacles. She dropped, cat-like, to the floor, rubbing her wrists a little before turning her attention to Martin. She searched Orville and took a small pistol from his gunbelt, and a set of keys from his pocket marked, 'Jessica', placing them down the back of her panties for safe-keeping, then crept forward, placing a hand on the doorway. "Hey, Martin," She whispered, and Martin turned suddenly. Right as he saw her, realising too late her hands were free, he went to raise his gun. D.Va smirked, her hand already coming up to meet it, and she slapped the barrel aside, then went in and jabbed his throat with a sparkly pink nail. Martin started wheezing, and his hands went to his windpipe as he struggled for air, but D.Va gave him no quarter. Her left leg kicked out at his, and his own leg went out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. Not wanting him to get back up anytime soon, she jumped onto him — her boobies bouncing wildly all the while — and sat on top of his chest, repeatedly pummeling him with her petite fists. Eventually, he stopped moving, and she ceased her onslaught, breathing heavily and brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. Standing up, she noticed her panties had shifted during the fight, and she adjusted them, frowning at the discomfort and soon resorting to pulling the front of them out and away from her body and sticking a hand down inside them, stretching the cotton fabric round the inside of the gusset out with her fingers before withdrawing them and letting the waistband snap back into place. "Yay!" she said to herself. "Escape time!"

D.Va scurried through the halls, her knee-socked feet contacting softly against the bare stone floor, and her boobies slapping against her bare chest. She held the gun firmly in both hands, brandishing it sideways as she made her way through the dank dungeon. Up ahead of her, a guard strolled out from around a corner, lazily looking to his right, and barely had time to register her presence as she slammed into him with her shoulder, knocking his rifle out of his hand and sending him staggering back. He opened his mouth to say something, but she pistol whipped him on the jaw before he could. His hand went to the spot where she'd struck him and he growled, reaching out to push her away, but accidentally copping a feel of her right tit instead. The entire fight ground to a halt as they both took in what he'd just done, D.Va's expression was one of astonishment as she slowly looked down at his hand, the palm of which was still touching her breast.

The guard blushed, then started stammering, "I...I was just trying to push you, I swear!"

She slapped his hand away, "Dude! Not. Fucking. Cool!" He raised his hands in a gesture of contrition, and she took the opportunity to knee him in the face, knocking him spark out. She rubbed the breast he'd pawed at gently, paused, then licked her finger and rubbed it again on the affected area, trying to remove a spot of dirt he'd managed to displace onto it. She looked up, "Perverts..." She said, shaking her head, then continued on her way, picking up his rifle and slinging it over her shoulder as she went.

In a small anteroom separating the stairs to the upper levels and the entrance to the dungeon, three guards sat playing cards. "Hit me," one of them said.

A second man looked up, puzzled. "You keep saying 'hit me' like that, but then your plays don't even make any sense! Do you even know how to play this game?"

The first man shrugged, "My grandma used to play Uno with me all the time."

The third turned to him, "Uno?" He repeated, "Greg, this is Texas Hold 'Em!"

Their dispute would have escalated, if at that exact moment, a one-hundred ten pound girl wearing nothing but a pair of bright green Brazilian panties and a pair of white knee-socks (which somehow made her seem more lewd and provocative in her near-nudity than she otherwise would have been) hadn't strode through the door with a pistol in one hand and a rifle in the other and started firing indiscriminately, screaming loudly as she sprayed bullets across the room.

The table went over, one of the guards was shot in the chest and went down instantly, the other two fell out of their chairs and dove behind the now-upturned table, completely bewildered by the suddenness of this turn of events. D.Va meanwhile, was struggling a little with the combined recoil of both guns, as they sent shockwaves up her arms and made her entire body vibrate intensely. If they hadn't been too preoccupied trying to avoid a hail of bullets, the guards might have appreciated the sight of her unsupported b-cups juddering around to the rhythm of machine gun fire. She was able to sustain it for a couple more seconds, before her clip ran dry.

Quick as a flash, she took off the rifle strap, tossed the gun aside and dashed forward, flipping over the table to land frontways on one of the guards' shoulders before they could even register that the bullets had stopped flying. She wrapped her legs tightly around his neck and started punching his head, simultaneously clenching her thighs to cut off his air supply. The poor guard could hardly see a thing, as his entire field of view was obscured by her crotch and belly button, the front of her panties flush with his nose, all the while killer legs that were simultaneously almost comforting owing to the smooth, slightly fluffy fabric of the socks choked the life out of him; was like being savaged by an angry stripper. He stood and wheeled around wildly, trying to dislodge her, reaching up and attempting to get his hands around her waist so he could pry her off, but D.Va wasn't one to skip leg day, and so as he tried harder, her grip just got tighter.

His comrade yelled incoherently, rushing forward to help the guard she was busy assaulting. He wasn't able to get a good hold on anything from the angle he was approaching from, so he futilely tugged at the waistband of her panties, more of an annoyance than a real threat. When the guard she was **** out began to flag, his air supply too hindered for him to keep upright, D.Va sprung backwards off of him, did a flip in mid-air and landed behind the guard who'd been pulling at her underwear. Before he could turn around, she brought a leg up in a lightning-fast kick, and got him right between his legs. His eyes bulged sickeningly as his hands went to his privates, and he fell sideways, gasping like a beached fish.

D.Va stood there for a few moments, then nodded, pleased with herself, and continued on upstairs, her bum cheeks wiggling and shifting beneath the material of her knickers as she hurried up the stairs.