Whatever you get your hands on

A paper cup got stuck under your hand. You flick it into the eyes of your predator, splashing its contents across her face. It must be a common street fighting tactic however, she seems to shut her eyes at _just _the right time to avoid being blinded. Fen grabs at your face, you try to step back but collapse into the chairs. Completely cornered.

Find something! Find something!

Your hands search the seats for something, anything, to use. The tall thug reaches over the barrier & wraps 1 hand around your face. Blind & trapped, you find... something to fight back with. Something small & metal.

Fuck it, it's something.

You swipe it at Fen like a loaded punch, which bounces off her concrete jaw. Worse, she drags you back over the wall by your face, squeezing the skull underneath. She scrapes you along the floor then straddles your waist. The thug catches your next loaded punch & crushes your wrist, causing you to drop your weapon: a cigarette lighter. Stuck beneath her superior weight, staring at the upwardly cascading mountain of muscle, flat pointy tits poking down at you. 1 downward punch is all she needs to knock you the fuck out. For a split second at least.

"Hey. Hey runt, wake up." Light slaps bring you back.

"Rrruh, not now... not... hey..." When you try to roll over, you can't. Your arms & chest & pinned down under Fen.

"Oh, is baby stuck? Struggle baby, struggle." You do, pointlessly, until she presses down on your face with her palm. "Haha, struggle!"

"Get deh vuk orf me." She slides up your body, her steel abs & damp cunt smearing your face.

Oh so now you let me between your legs?

The thug returns to her seat, but with a few toys in her hands. The paper cup & the lighter. She smiles sadistically down, crumpling the cup in her fist. You, again, try to struggle out, pointlessly, again. Holding your head steady, she orders you to 'open wide.' You purse your lips tight, which she undoes with a grip on your throat. Your mouth flies open & she stuffs it with the garbage.

"Oh geez. We're used to seeing people get a mouthful, but not like this." Announcer's voice has real revulsion in it.

Fen smothers your mouth & nose with her hands, leaving you to **** & gag & squirm. Your vision reddens, your head aches, your chest pulses painfully as the air gets trapped in it. After who-knows-how-long, your torturer releases your face. Your breath is an agonised wheeze. God-knows-what is still trickling down your throat when the thug flicks the lighter on. More frightened than you've ever been, you stop still. You swear her nipples just got harder.

Oh shit oh fuck oh crap!

All crowd noise goes silent. She brings the flame close enough to smell the butane. Your terrified gaze gives her the chuckles. Fen stands up off your chest. Fear keeps you down instead. She places a boot on your belly & stares through the flame into your eyes. Without warning, she drops it. The audience gasps & you muffle-scream as it hits your chest... cold, the fire extinguished in the fall.

"Thnk vu thnk vu..."

She repays your thanks with a stomp to the gut, hard enough to **** the cup out of your mouth like a giant spit ball. & a 2nd stomp to your balls for good measure.

Advantage, Fen.