The air in the training chamber was still, the only sound the soft hum of the gravity generator. You lay flat on your back, staring up at the stark white ceiling, thoroughly and beaten up. The cool, gaze of Android 18 looked down at you, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

Before you could even think to roll away, she moved with a quick movement. One moment she was standing over you... the next, she was settled on the mat, her back propped casually on her hands. And you? You were no longer on the open floor. You were in a prison of her own choice.

Her legs came down on either side of you. With a gentle movement, she crossed her ankles, trapping you in her thighs. The initial pressure was firm, a clear warning.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, her voice a low, melodic monotone that was both calm and utterly commanding.

Bracing your hands on the mat to push yourself up. It was a mistake. The moment you used a bit of force, her thighs closed. It was a rhythiminic squeeze that drove the air from your lungs in a soft whoosh. The denim of her jeans felt tough against your sides, the lean muscle beneath it against you.

"Ah-ah," she said softly, her blue eyes glinting with amusement. "The match is over when I say it's over."

You tried again, this time twisting your shoulders to try and create some wiggle room. The response was immediate and overwhelming. Her thighs squeezing down tighter, the pressure becoming genuinely immense. You could feel every curve of her leg muscles as they tightened.

A small smile finally broke through her neutral expression. "That's better," she purred, leaning forward just a little, her blonde hair cascading over one shoulder. "See? All that struggling, and for what? You're just wasting your energy."

She shifted her weight slightly, adjusting her grip, and the new angle made you acutely aware of just how thoroughly trapped you were. This was no ordinary hold. This was a statement. She had you right where she wanted you, and she was in complete control.

"You're strong," she admitted, her tone almost conversational, though her legs never once relaxed their firm embrace. "But you rely too much on brute force. Sometimes, the simplest hold, applied correctly, is all you need."

She squeezed again, not enough to cause pain, but enough to make your ribs creak a gentle protest. It was a demonstration of her power, a reminder that the calm, collected woman pinning you could shatter mountains if she wished.

"Now," Android 18 said, her voice dropping to a whisper that was both a threat and a promise. "Are you going to behave, or do I need to prove my point a little more… emphatically?"