The Conquerors bloodline

Chapter 260: The Duel 3

Yang clattered to the ground, skidding for a bit as her bounces came to an end leaving her almost flat on her back. Her aura was reeling and she could feel it on the verge of shattering. She hissed, set down her hands beside her body about to push herself up but was unable to as Parc's foot came down on her chest and forced her flat on her back.

"Stay down Yang." He said as he loomed over her, his back straight and head just barely turned down to meet her eyes. "You've lost." She hissed in response and gripped his ankle but failed to shift it from her chest. Instead finding his heel dig deeper into her gut beneath her ribs.

"Get off," she growled.

"Stay down. You lost. You can't win." Parc could feel the blood drain from his foot, unable to return from just how tightly she was gripping him but didn't react to it.

"Screw you."

"That is what you agreed to, yes." He calmly spat back as he kept her struggles under control. "Yang. I realize that you don't like losing, but you can't beat me."

She visibly scathed, her lips curling back revealing her teeth in a houndish snarl. "I can beat you any day of the week."

Parc could only sigh and shake his head. Leaning down, he rested his arm over his knee and dug his foot in so deep Yang's stomach was deforming around it almost strangling her of breath. "No Yang. You can't. You're a good fighter, I can't lie there. But you're not at the point you can beat me. Which seriously isn't that high of a bar to overcome." Easing off of her, Parc stepped away then moved to his workbench. Yang sat up, held her stomach till it stopped stinging then stood with a slight creak to her joints.

"You think too much with your fists. You hinge your fights on your semblance." With his back to her, Yang's eyes narrowed as they glowed an ominous fury red. She threw herself into a reckless pursuit. Coming closer, her right fist was thrown backwards like the cocking of a shotgun and once she was in range, she pulled the trigger. Her fist whistled with speed, aiming for the back of Parc's head.

Parc turned his head slightly, saw her approaching knuckles and frowned. Yang hadn't heard a single thing, doubtful she even cared about what he had to say. It was sad if not utterly pathetic. He may not have the wisest of words, but he thought he at least had some useful incite for.

Stepping to the side, Parc reached up, grabbed Yang's extended arm with his right and with his left pressed to the back of her head, slammed her against the workbench and held her there.

To Yang, it felt like she'd been hit with a hammer, a heavy mallet if anything. Her cheek ached and the way Parc was curling her arm behind her back, twisting her wrist to an almost unnatural degree, it was almost agonizingly painful.

"Bastard," growling, Parc rolled his eyes and jerked her arm even further. "Ghhh-" she couldn't let him hear her weakness, so Yang bit her lip and cast him a hateful glare from her flattened position.

"Honestly, if anyone on your team is going to get someone killed. It's you." Parc spoke coldly.

"Shut up." She growled.

"Blake's too cautious to take undue risks that might get herself killed. At least, on most days. And Weiss, well, she's Weiss. She might be cocky and bratty but she has a good head to her and is prepped to take on any life or death bullshit you might bring about. But Ruby" Parc trailed off, letting her latch onto his next words, "if you get beat down. Captured by the enemy, put in a bad position because you can't think with your head, she'll happily sacrifice herself for you Yang." He could almost hear the creak of Yang's teeth grinding. "You'd have to live knowing that it was your fault Ruby died because you are so stuck in your own selfish world of punching stuff and hair products that you can't even understand that of anyone, you are the weakest link in your team."

Yang's struggles slowed and from the part of her face he could see, her expression was faltering. "When the weak link fails, the chain falls apart. Whatever it was holding, falls away. Understand that Yang. The you as of now cannot beat me even when I'm holding back. You might not have those pretty little shotgun gauntlets you love so much right now. Even with them, you wouldn't get far Yang. Tools do not make a good mechanic. Weapons do not make a good fighter. You are mediocre at best. You can fight the little guys bully, but when it comes to their father, you get knocked down in seconds."

Gripping the back of her head tightly for a second, Parc eased his hold and turned his eyes to her sides where he could just faintly see the side of her bosom pushing flat against the cold metal. The tank top she'd been wearing unable to hide her peachy white skin.

Yang's lips squirmed like little worms before she bit them and forced a staunch expression, "you done?" she said, "cause we've got a fight to finish asshat." It was muffled slightly by her position and drew Parc's gaze back to the crimson orb he could still see.

Letting out an exasperated groan, Parc lifted Yang's head then slammed it back down once more. Knowing that at any moment her aura would shatter and leave her vulnerable and powerless.

"Gah, bastard! Is this how you treat mom as well, huh!?" she echoed and met the cold, calm expression of Parc. "Beat her until she let you have your way with her!?"

He smirked and leaned over, pressing himself tight to Yang's body before whispering close to her ear, "the only beating Summer gets. Is when I leave her twitching on our bed after screwing her insane."

Yang grit her teeth and through them hissed, "the only reason she even likes you is because you brainwashed her!"

"This again? I already said I haven't used it on her. I don't need to."

"You could have just made her forget."

"That'd be cruel of me, wouldn't you say?"

"You're slamming me into a table. You're already cruel."

"True, true. A different kind of cruel though. I'd say what I'm doing to you is more of a how do I say this, teaching, moment? It's not taking, that much I'll admit. But still, I don't like messing with memories. With actions, sure, yes. I'll happily make a girl run around naked thinking she's dressed or even making them act like a dog for a bit. But memories, that's a bit much even for me."

"Bullsh- Ghg-" Parc lifted her one more time and rammed her down another.

"I think that's enough swearing Yang."

"Screw. You."

Parc's expression soured as dark circles came to run around his eyes and his lips hung, seemingly weighed down by weights. He was about done with Yang's obstinate hate, it was tiring, draining the energy he could use elsewhere. Pulling back his left handthe one clasping her headhe lifted it and twisted his wrist. From nothing, a light rippled on his wrist and a small, serpentine chain squirmed forth. It slithered through the air and took Yang's gaze.

She gulped at the sight of it, knowing full well that the dagger tipped chain was the very thing he used to brainwash his whores. He looked from it and back to her.

"I don't think I need to explain what this is going to do to you, yes?"

"I'll never become like those whores. Never." She said with such stoicism that Parc half believed her. Though, there had been another who had been so staunch and ultimately she had ended up with a child in her belly.

"Oh, I'm sure you won't. Either way, I'm done with you." Pointing his hand down the slithering chain descended upon her, at first she felt its ominous chill against the nape of her neck that sent her struggling. She couldn't let him brainwash her, not without a fight.

As it descended around the side of her neck, it quickly wrapped once the tugged her head up before twisting once more around her throat. She groaned a few times, wheezed for breath as it strangled her and sent this spine chilling sensation into her body, almost like the feeling of an ice-cold vaccine being pumped into her arm.

"Submit." He said.

Yang's lips opened, her voice hissed as her eyes misted upon hearing her voice say. "I submit." She hated it. Hated him. In her mind where she was locked she battered against that door that wouldn't let her out.

"You will keep to the terms of our battle. I. Own. You. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." She strained, almost biting through her lip from how hard she was trying and failing to resist.

"Good. And as I'm so cruel Yang. I'll give you a chance to win back your freedom. One time every week, I will let you challenge me to another fight. It can be whatever you want. A brawl without weapons, a fight to see who can kill as many grim in an hour. I don't care. But you get it once a week and if you lose, you stay mine and I get to play with your body as much as I want. Am I understood? You can answer by your own will."

Yang pushed out a hiss, "fuck you, you sick bastard."

"I'll take that as a yes." She didn't respond, her ability to answer ending with his earlier question.

Retracting his chain, Parc lightened his grip on her arm then released it and pushed away from her. The moment he did, Yang spun around with such force he swore the air rippled around him as her fist flew for his face.

"Stop." He said and stared at the four knuckles just centimetres from his face. Yang had frozen solid, her teeth ground as her entire body trembled in a futile attempt to let her get one good hit in on him.

Looking down at her, Parc could see the tanktop had finally malfunctioned and one of her breasts had ultimately fallen free from it. It was a plump balloon, filled with so many womanly wiles that even her nipple had become these almost ungodly pink with those little bumps dotted around her areolae.

Stepping out of her line of fire, Parc slid to her side and leaned into the side of her face. "Get this now Yang. I own you. Your body moves when I want it to. You breathe when I want, you stop when I don't. Now, put. Down. Your. Arm."

She physically shook, she wanted to keep it raised just to spite him but it fell nonetheless. "Good girl. You'll make a good little bitch yet."

Yang turned to look at him with her eyes wide reminded of Kurome and her 'ears.' "Don't you dare."

"I'll dare as much as I want Yang. I turned Kurome into a bitch by accident. Which, to me, says just how easy it would be if I wanted to do it with a bit of intention. Bark."

"Woof! Motherfucker." Instantly she let one out but grumbled a cuss immediately after, warning him that if he gave her even the slightest, she'd bite his nose off. Possibly something worse depending on her mood.

"Yeah, I do that." Parc straightened his back and looked across his room. Little had changed bar that the hoverbike had finally gone silent. Glancing to an iron chair he had by the metalworking bench and began making his way towards it. "Follow me." Yang complied.

The room was cool against his skin but grew hotter the closer he came to the forge. 'Should turn that off,' it was far from a fire hazard considering the most flammable thing around it was propane, but still, it wasn't good form to be wasting gas like that.

Arriving by the chair, Parc quickly spun and dropped into it and leaned against the backrest and looked up at Yang. Scanning over her body, he inwardly praised himself for picking a set of pyjama's that did their utmost to accentuate her buxom form of wide hips and thick thighs he swore could crush watermelons. 'Wouldn't mind burying myself in those. Maybe another day though.'

Keeping his legs open he couldn't help but smirk as Yang's eyes nervously trailed to his crotch.

"I'm guessing you already know what I want?"

Yang nodded slowly, spitefully.

"Good, well, breakfast is likely almost finished, so I advise you to put those tits to work Yang. The quicker you get me off, the faster I sooner you get to meander off without any other orders."

She met his eyes, his egotistical, holier-than-thou eyes and shut her own. She wasn't unfamiliar with a titjob, though she'd never gone so far as an Mistralian kiss with a boy, she had certainly put a cucumber between there after finding a scene online. It was when she was younger and curious about why all those boys were staring at her rapidly developing body.

Yang sucked her lips to lines as a vein rose on her throat but she didn't drop.

"Ah, I guess 'advise' isn't much of an order is it?"

"It isn't. Asshole."

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