Tracer's trapped.

Her arms are quickly pinned to the roof by the assassin's, and a thigh is slid between her legs. He sensation of Widowmaker's leg between hers brings a flush to her face, especially given the tightness of her pants. This is also the most attractive female she's ever seen, and now she's lurking over top of her, trapping her down.

"What are you going to do now, little fly?" Widowmaker whispers as she lowers her body to press against her prey's. Their lips hover only a few inches apart.

"H-How did you turn off my--," but she's cut off.

"A little device of my own. Truthfully, I do not know where it came from."

You made sure she received it. Now, you have some entertainment to watch.

Tracer struggles as she flushes more, but Widowmaker shows no mercy in releasing the girl. Her lips press against Tracer's neck, and this causes her to whimper a moan as much as she tries to hide it. He bites her lip and breathes for heavily--looking up at the assassin as she raises herself back. Her eyes wander down her deep cut shirt, and then to her hips tightly concealed.

"No, no. This isn't right. Let me go!" Tracer demands.

"I don't think so," she replies as her one hand lowers from her wrist to softly pet Tracer's inner thigh.

Her leg muscles tense up, but it feels so great. She starts to want nothing more than for her fingers to wander closer. But, just like before, she snaps back out of it.

This is humiliating. I need to get out of here.