Tara was stomping towards the gym and everyone was careful to move out of her way, sensing how pissed off she was. Quinn was still on an extended vacation - that coward was avoiding her, she was sure of that. What annoyed her was that it seemed to be working. She could already feel her fury fading, and in a week or two she would be reasonable again.
In the meantime she unloaded her irritation on others, usually on the mats, and most people avoided her for that reason. Maybe one of the guys would be there today. They were not as easily thrown around as the women, and one of them might be persuaded to roll with her. This was the Agency Headquarters, so anyone in the gym would likely be an agents and well trained, and that was exactly what she needed. Some controlled violence might take her mind off her problems for a while.
The gym was almost empty at this time, but there were two men there on the mats. They were both pretty average looking, almost forgettable, and that meant they were almost certainly agents. The six feet tall, barrel-chested gorilla look was good for bodyguards, but agents needed to blend in more than anything. The looks were deceiving however, as they would spend as much time training as a typical Special Forces soldier, if not more, and they were fit and lean.
She changed into her grappling clothes, a tight fitting t-shirt and shorts, and she went out on the mats. The two men seemed to have finished their training, but she hoped she might convince one of them do go a few rounds with her. As she approached them, she recognized one of them, Mark, a hand-to-hand combat trainer.
"Hi Mark, whats up?"
Both men turned to her, and Mark waved. "Tara, good to see you. Say, you wouldn't mind giving the rookie here a grappling lesson? I really need to do some other stuff."
"The rookie?" she asked giving the other man an appraising look. He was young, looked to be in his early twenties, an inch or so taller than her, with an agent-lean body.
Mark clapped the younger man on the shoulder. "This is John. John, meet Tara."
"Pleased to meet you, Tara," said John, and then turned to Mark. "Is she good enough to teach me something?"
Her eyes flashed. "I can teach you some humility, boy," she said before Mark could answer, and she noticed with some satisfaction that John straightened when she called him a boy. Showing his weak spot this easily? He definitely had some things to learn.
Mark cracked a huge grin. "You bet she can. Tara, don't damage him too badly, we need him in one piece."
With that he clapped both of them on the shoulders and left for the locker rooms, leaving Tara and John trying to stare each other down. She had to admit the kid had some attitude, and now she was curious if he had some skill to back it up. She broke the stare-down first and went to the center of the mat, and he followed.
"You know, I don't like hitting girls," he said.
"Well that's too bad for you then," she answered, and dropped into a crouch. Then she charged him without warning, slamming her shoulder into his midsection. She grabbed his knees and pulled, making him fall onto his back, knocking his breath out with a loud "oomph". Before he could recover she grabbed his foot and twisted it, making him tap on the mat immediately. She let him go and stood above him, legs wide and fists on her hips.
"Are you learning new things already, or should I turn up the heat a bit?" she asked with a smirk.
He looked at her with a furrowed brow, but instead of answering he scissored her legs with his own and with a quick twist brought her crashing to the mat. She fell face down, bet managed to break her fall somewhat. She didn't have the time to reproach herself about the slip in attention, as he immediately jumped on her, trying to wrap an arm around her neck. She barely managed to grab his arm before he locked in the choke, and she twisted his thumb, making him let go and cry out.
Tara and John returned to kneeling positions opposite each other, each waiting for the other to move first. During their short clash Tara noticed that John was stronger than her, but not as skilled. And of course, he was a man, and so she could use some additional tricks against him, but first, she needed to test how he would react to her unusual tactics.
She feinted, and when he attacked she pulled him forward, and he fell to the mat. She immediately landed on top of him, trying to hold him down, but he was to strong for that. She managed to use his own movement to rotate him onto his back, and immediately dropped on top of him again, mashing her breasts into his face. She was starting to enjoy this, and she hoped John would not turn out to be gay, as she planned some more fun with him later. She felt the wiry muscles under his training uniform, and not much fat, and she liked it.
John was obviously distracted by her maneuver, as he didn't struggle as effectively as he should, and she also noticed a bulge growing in his trouser. Oh yes, he was thinking about more than the fight, that was certain. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and used them to press her breasts even harder into his face, cutting off his air supply, and he quickly tapped out.
She let him up and they returned to their initial positions on the mats, opposite each other.
"That was not a typical submission," he said with a raised eyebrow.
Tara looked at him with a smirk. "Hey, whatever works. You tapped in the end."
"You won't catch me again with that trick."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that. And this is not the only trick up my sleeve."
They stood up and faced each other, and then John attacked without warning, tackling Tara and they both went down to the mats with a dull thud. He failed to surprise her however, and she had her legs wrapped around his torso as soon as they were down, preventing him from moving. While her upper body strength might have been lower than his, her legs were something different. She hooked her ankles behind his back and squeeze, causing him to grunt in pain. He tried to pry her legs apart, but his arms were weaker than her legs, especially in this position.
Before he could try a new tactic, she suddenly let him and immediately wrapped her legs around him again, but this time in a modified triangle choke. Modified, because instead of wrapping the legs around his neck, she wrapped them around his head, pressing his face into her crotch, again limiting his ability to breathe. This was not as effective a submission hold as a regular triangle choke would have been, but effectiveness was not her concern.
The only thing separating his mouth and nose from her pussy was now the thin fabric of her shorts, as she was not wearing anything underneath. That this fact did not escape his attention was obvious from his ineffective struggles. In the end he did simply push her legs off his head, and he sat there looking at her with a red face, trying to catch his breath. After letting him go, she remained sitting with her legs open, watching him with a smirk in the corner of her mouth.
