Deadlock

Mia fought to keep Roxanne’s legs locked as best she could. The bottoms of her combat boots wiggled desperately, her ankles twisting to strike her in the face.

“Oh no, that’s not going to work.” Mia stood up straight, attempting to immobilize Roxy further. “Now, let’s see…”

Mia dug her fingers into the waistband of Roxy’s leather pants, hoisted high up on her waist. The waistband offered almost no purchase, making it tough to actually get her fingers inside.

“No!” Roxanne’s voice pierced the air like a banshee’s wail. “No, no, no, no…”

She pulled at the pants as hard as she could, her nails digging into the fabric. The thought that she might break a nail in the attempt didn’t enter Mia’s mind. She was intent only on humiliating this arrogant little brat.

“Aaaaaaaah!”

Mia felt the pants yield only a fraction. Her pants seemed like they were painted onto her body. Why hadn’t she attempted to unbutton them first? Oh well, it was too late for that now. She’d gone all-in.

Roxanne’s frantic movements made it difficult to maintain her grip. Her screams and protests were like those of a stuck pig. The pants moved an inch downward as they gradually descended to her waist.

But Mia’s failure to unbutton them first would return to bite her. The wily Roxy’s flexibility let her twist her body, forcing Mia to focus more on keeping her footing and grip than depantsing her.

Roxanne flailed more and reached for the rubber baton that rested a little further away from her. Mia didn’t see what she was doing. She grabbed it in her right hand, but she could not swing it from her current position.

But it was the only thing she had to escape from the compromising position of her feet facing the ceiling.