Roundhouse kicks

The first thing to do is clearing your mind, reminding your brother's lessons. Following his advises, you bounce on your feet waiting for the next attack of your opponent, which comes quickly in the form of middle and high kicks that take aim at your upper body. The training helps you though, and you manage to either duck the kicks or hide behind your strong arms to prevent any damage. The deadly feet of the martial artist storm recklessly around you like missiles, but they don't do any real harm. Steadily, you set up a response, triyng a few low kicks very targeted at her knees and shinbones. Grace wasn't expecting that. Your **** hampers her legs, the core of her fighting strategy, and she doesn't know how to respond. After a minute of this painful treatment the girl is not able to lift her legs anymore. The tide of the match rapidly turns in your favour. Grace is getting scared. Every time that her battered legs are reached by the neck of your feet she shrieks in agony, unable to contrast your strategy. The female fighter starts to limping and, vainly trying to parry one of your kicks, she even loses her belt on the floor. As things stand, you could keep up the onslaught, crippling definitely your enemy and forcing her to fall. This is not how you want to finish the girl though.

Indeed, Grace is fleeing. But the room is small and she has no leeway; the former defiant warrior is a defenceless prey in the face of a resolute man. Aggressively, you pounce on her, clenching the arms around her shoulders and overpowering the smaller female with your superior size. She cannot resist to your arms that keep her still, pressing tightly her face onto your ripped chest. "This is gonna hurt, babe!", you say maliciously, throwing a final chain of powerful knee strikes onto her stomach. The young girl whimpers after every blow, hugging your torso impotently as you mangle her flesh and bones. The only noise around the room are her pinching notes of pain, sounding like a music while the flavoured smell of her sweat flows trough your nose. Finally, you let your opponet drop, kissing the wet top of her head as she doubles over on her knees. As a last macho touch, you pull her kimono away, leaving the little fighter half naked to humble her further. She is curling up at your feet, grimacing with pain. You stare down, hands on the hips.