Thought I'd re-up this one, which I previous posted under a now-deleted account. Slightly modified, with a new reference pic for Erika Steel (in professional mode). And here is Samantha Jones (when she's in tactical gear).

The Faculty Lounge was underused, and Agent Erika Steel liked it that way. She set her purse on the table, grabbed her mug from the shelf and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Morning, Dr. Steel,” her colleague Samantha Jones greeted her absent-mindedly, absorbed by something on her phone. “These separatist army guys cannot be serious.”

Erika laughed, sat down and crossed her legs. “Oh I know, right? Imagine being so fucking misogynistic that you’re threatened by women who can actually kick ass. The ‘feminization’ of the secret service? Yeah, because the guys did a real bang-up job before.”

Samantha looked up from her phone and took a sip of her coffee. “I hope one of our female agents takes them down, honestly. It’d be deliciously ironic. Anyway, early class today? Don’t normally see you here in the morning.”

Erika rolled her eyes, “Speaking of misogynists. I’m filling in for Raphael Sharp. The entitlement of that guy is unreal. But I’ve gotta be a team player if I’m gonna get anywhere in this fucking college.”

Samantha grabbed her own purse and got up. “Please. You’re going to run the entire Espionage Department before you’re 30. I don’t think you owe the old guard anything. But, yeah, it won’t hurt.”

Two male students entered the lounge sheepishly, and Samantha gestured goodbye to Erika and left. Erika put her coffee down and smiled cordially. “Can I help you?” One of the guys fumbled with his schedule. “Uh, yeah, I’m looking for my classroom and just can’t find it on this map, sorry I’m new here!”

Erika got up and walked over to the doorway as the other guy got out of the way. “What class are you taking?”

“Espionage 101 with Professor Sharp.”

Erika smirked, “That’d be the class I’m teaching today.”

The student got a little red in the face. Erika thought it was flattering, if a little pathetic, that he thought she wouldn’t notice him checking her out. “I’ll take you there now.” She grabbed her purse, shot a glance at the other student who awkwardly left the room, and they headed to the classroom.

In the lecture hall, Erika Steel spoke to over 500 students in Raphael Sharp's class; Sharp, a generation older than Steel, was a legend in hand-to-hand combat training; many students took his classes hoping to get into his good graces so that they could train with him in their last year. His graduate students, three men and one woman, sat in the front row. Erika couldn’t help but notice that the woman was Sharp’s type: blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, clearly obsessed with showcasing the shape of her own body. They smiled politely at each other.

“Ok, take your seats,” Erika said to the class, adjusting the microphone on her sleek professional dress. The students shuffled around and eventually the room was quiet.

“I know you were expecting Dr. Sharp today, but he is out on personal business. I am Dr. Erika Steel, and I specialize in Psychological Manipulation, but I have specialties in physical combat and weapons in particular. It’s no secret around here that Dr. Sharp and I represent very different philosophies when it comes to the importance of the physical or the psychological in spycraft.” Erika paused to look around the room. Some condescending smirks on the faces of the male students, sure, but she couldn’t help but relish the eager expressions on the female faces. This is what she was in the business for. “So, I thought what I would do today is give you a sense of my own perspective.”

Erika then began lecturing on the differences between her and Sharp. She went into the history of failures where the state put serious muscle into a situation but they didn’t understand the minds of their opponents, didn’t get inside of their thoughts. A female student raised her hand, and Erika called on her. “So like, Dr. Sharp always says that the new emphasis on psychology is a sign of quote unquote ‘the decline of physical prowess.’ Are you saying we shouldn’t know how to fight?”

Erika smirked. Students who were in-the-know knew that Erika was famous for dominating in physical sparring, even against some of the male faculty. “Great question, and certainly not. Could I have one of the graduate students come up here?”

The female grad got up. “Excuse me, sorry—one of the gentleman graduate students, please? I’d never hit a lady.” Erika winked. There was a murmur and chuckling among the students, several of the female students grinning ear-to-ear and whispering to each other. Finally, one of the male students walked up to Erika.

“Alright, Mr…?”

“Call me John, ma’am.”

“Ok, Mr. John,” Erika said with faux-gravity. She took off her shoes. Then, she unbuttoned her jacket and revealed her white sports bra underneath. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, so her toned, feminine stomach was on display. She cracked her neck back and forth, then looked at John, who was clearly distracted.

“Attack me when you’re ready.”

John snapped out of it and looked at her with surprise, but then she just continued lecturing.

Both the male and female students were now utterly transfixed, though the male students’ eyes were a little wider, something Erika couldn’t help but enjoy. John stood awkwardly for a bit, but then regained his composure. Suddenly surging with arousal at how hot it would be to fuck the cocky Erika Steel up in front of everyone, he waited until she walked by with her back toward him to kick out at her calf and try to put her in a sleeper hold. Quicker than anyone could even understand, Erika must have shifted her leg slightly to avoid the kick, because before John knew it she spun around and landed a spinning elbow right into his nose, followed by an offensive kick into his lower stomach. Suffice it to say, the supposed tough guy doubled over and knelt to the ground.

“Oh, shit!” and “Fuck!”, more than one person gasped in the classroom. Erika rubbed her elbow per formatively and leaned back against the lectern, smirking at the reeling graduate student.

“Now,” she said calmly to the class. “Two things. First, in no way do I ‘minimize’ physical combat, or the need to be prepared for anything—I mean anything. But number two, this was not, I repeat was not, just ‘physical’ combat. I want you to look at me.”

The students looked at each other awkwardly. Erika smiled. “No, seriously, look at me. Why do you think I opened my jacket? Better mobility, sure, but I assure you I can fuck a guy up in a formal dress just fine. I took it off to redirect John’s blood flow, if you know what I mean.” John stumbled to his feet and staggered to his chair, holding his nose. Erika grabbed a tissue from her purse and walked it over to him. She brought her finger to her lips and whispered loudly so everyone would hear.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Dr. Sharp you got beat up by a girl.”

Walking back to the podium, she continued. “I’m sure young Mr. John here knows how to fight just fine and could even beat me in, you know, some arm wrestling or whatever it is the guys in here do to test important skills like, you know, well, arm wrestling.” Laughter arose in the room, noticeably higher pitched. “The point is, I fucked with his mind and his arrogance, and that made it not just possible, but easy to fuck with his body.” Picking her glasses out of her still-open jacket pocket, she shuffled through her notes on the podium. She looked back to the female student who had asked the question, “So, if anyone tells you—”

The room shook with the sound of a distant explosion, and everyone in the room froze. The campus sirens started sounding and Erika put her notes down and grabbed her phone from her purse. Putting her hand out to calm the class as she checked her messages, she read out loud. Her voice was calm and matter-of-face. “Armed men on campus, extremely dangerous, stay inside.” The class started chattering in panic.

“Quiet, quiet everybody. You’re all training for this.” A loud sound was heard in all the doorways. Students looked around scared. Erika shushed them and reached into her purse again. “That’s the sound of the automatic classroom locking mechanism. No one has access to any classroom without the keycard of—” She interrupted herself, rummaging around deeper, her eyebrows furrowing. “—without the keycard of the faculty member teaching in it. Now, I’ll just find…”

The students could barely hear the “shit” under her breath as she put the purse back on the table and looked through it more aggressively. Erika’s berated herself internally.

Unreal, I must have misplaced it—and today? Wow.

Not wanting to make the class panic as false alarms happened from time to time at the College, she just picked up her little wallet and quickly flashed it to the students in an easy bluff. “So, no one’s getting in here, ok?” Erika was proud of how calm Raphael Sharp’s graduate students were, even if the female graduate student seemed to have a thing for creepy grins in weird situations.

Erika sat up on the desk and looked out at the students, almost all of whom were now completely focused on their phones. “Well,” she said, “I suppose we can still talk about—”

Her heart skipped as the main door at the top of the lecture hall unlocked. The students went silent, looking up at the door. Erika hopped off the table and looked up quizzically, reflexively grabbing the Glock out of her purse. She slowly walked forward toward the steps, gun aimed directly at the door. Then, the two doors at the sides of down where she was lecturing unlocked as well. Erika quietly but sharply inhaled in surprise, but kept her gun trained on the main door, listening intently should one of the side doors open. Some students kept their eyes on the main door, others to the sides, and some were absorbed by watching Erika’s expert approach. All of the above had their phones out, recording in one fashion or another.

“Hey,” the female graduate student said quietly to Erika as she reached the foot of the stairs and first row of seats. Erika didn’t respond. “I loved your last lecture.”

Erika’s eyes darted quickly at her then back at the door. “You’re a fucking psycho,” she whispered. "And what are you talking about?" The girl just turned away and didn't respond.

Then, all three doors opened at once. Erika heard several heavy footsteps come through the side doors behind her as she watched none other than Raphael Sharp, completely unarmed, come through the top door, two students behind him.

“What the fuck is this?” Erika said, mostly to herself.

“Dr. Steel!” Raphael said, as he walked down the steps and slowly clapped. “I was just watching a stream of your lecture. Good stuff. Female power, love it!”

Realizing she was outgunned from behind, Erika ‘holstered’ the gun in her pants under her jacket. Then, she noticed that the two students with Raphael were the ones in the lounge earlier. Oh fuck me, she thought, realizing that one of them must have grabbed her keycard for access to the room.

“What kind of fucking stunt is this, Raphael?”

“Love your professional look, by the way,” Raphael mocked as he took her in with his eyes. He stood in front of her, about a half foot taller. “Psychological warfare indeed.”

Walking by Erika to the lectern, Raphael said, “Now, John, who was the student who asked Professor Steel about the decline of physical prowess?”

John stood up, mostly recovered though his nose was clearly broken. He pointed to the female student, “It was Ava, sir.” Two of the soldiers immediately went up the stairs and down the row where Ava was and grabbed her, bringing her down to the floor.

"Fucking let me go! Dr. Steel, do something!" Ava screeched.

“We shall now have a simple lesson!” Raphael announced. Looking to his female student, he said, “Sophie, dear, would you prepare to do the honors?” Sophie walked over and accepted the hunting knife Raphael pulled from a sheath on his pants and grabbed Ava from the soldier, yanking her toward the wall where Sophie leaned back and held the knife against Ava's throat.

“Hey! Leave her out of this.” Erika walked up to Raphael. “Ok, Raphael, what the fuck is this? You’re with the separatists? This is fucking suicide. Or is this some kind of sick prank? I get it, you can defeat a woman—with an army.”

Raphael lightly held Erika’s chin. “I can certainly get a woman’s attention with an army.”

Erika slapped his hand away as he walked to another one of his soldiers and grabbed an additional hunting knife from the soldier’s gear.

“This,” he flipped it around and held the handle toward Erika, “is for you.” Erika just looked down at it, unamused. She put one hand on her hip. “Um, what?”

Ava sharply inhaled and gasped, "fuck fuck!" as Sophie pressed the blade more firmly against her throat.

“Yeah, I suggest you take it.”

“Jesus Christ, Raphael,” Erika said in frustration and took the knife.

“Now, simple lesson! All of my men will stand by with the single instruction: do not intervene. You and I, Erika, will spar—to the death. If you win, my men have orders to retreat. And, well, I’ll be dead! If you lose, or don’t participate, then Ava here will join you in your fate.”

Is this fucking happening? Erika thought to herself as she listened to Raphael speak. While it had a dreamlike quality, it was a nightmare turning into a romp; she had literally fantasized about killing Raphael many times. The thought of having an actual excuse to do it was extremely hot. Her heart began to race with excitement for herself rather than anxiety for her students. She looked over to a frightened Ava, winked, and turned back to Raphael. “Ok dude, this is the sure sign you’re fucking crazy if that wasn’t obvious to everyone already.”

Erika walked to the chair where her purse was and put her glock back in her purse; obviously, were she to use it the soldiers would mow her and several others down. She looked out at the students, most of whom were filming, glued either to the real event or its representation on their screens. It was clear that the female students were concerned for her. She rolled her shoulders back and forth. Noticing Raphael didn’t have a weapon, she chuckled. “Goin’ solo, asshole? And at your age?”

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, palms facing up. “Physical prowess. You know, that patriarchal bullshit.” With that, he removed his shirt and adopted a fighting stance. Raphael was ripped, and he could see that Erika’s cheeks and upper chest become a bit flushed as her eyes darted around quickly at his pecs, abs, and forearms. This bitch is actually hot for this, Raphael thought to himself.

Without warning Erika leapt forward and twisted in the air with a dramatic round kick that caught Raphael off-guard, having expected a smaller opponent to lead with the knife. As he staggered back and recomposed himself she didn’t let up, landing a punch with her unarmed hand on his jaw. He defensively jabbed out with his leg as he staggered and Erika moved back. The female students beamed with shock and delight. The soldiers shuffled nervously. Erika was now surging with arousal and her own demonstrable power. Pacing, knife out, she taunted, “Thanks for the knife, Raphael, not that I need it.” Raphael charged. It was too quick and he was too large to risk getting enveloped by his arms, so instead of meeting him directly Erika ducked and moved to the side as she slashed his side. “Ahhh, fuck,” Raphael let out as he sloppily missed her and stopped himself at the lectern, leaning on it. He touched the wound in a brief panic and looked at the blood on his hand.

Erika stood up straight, barely even out of breath. “You bleed!” she said cheerily. “I’d like to see more of that.” Looking back at the class, she said, “Paying attention, ladies?” Raphael let go of the lectern and walked more slowly and defensively toward Erika. His wound wasn’t deep but it pissed him off.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

Erika smirked and pointed the knife at John. “Pretty sure you and poor John with the broken nose are the only bitches in class today.”

Raphael let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, well, you do have a way with words, I’ll give you that. It’s gonna feel good to shut you up.”

As Raphael got closer, Erika returned to her fighting stance with the knife. Taking obvious note of Raphael’s body (and his bulging pants), she had the forbidden thought of enjoying the fresh male corpse of her enemy. “Something’s gonna feel good, that’s for sure,” she said in a low, feminine tone.

When he was close enough, Raphael swung out with his right arm. Erika ducked and slashed right below his shoulder, but Raphael kept moving forward so she had to stumble back a little. He twisted back and threw a left knee at her which caught her a little in the hip but she spun away from it easily.

Then, an opening.

Oh my god this is it, Erika thought excitedly to herself as she came in close, grabbed behind the nape of Raphael’s neck with her left hand and shoved the knife toward his stomach with her right, looking at his face intently as she did so. Raphael’s right hand went on top of hers on his neck while his left hand stopped the knife about halfway in, holding her hand around the handle. They were face to face, you’d think almost embraced in passion if you didn’t see the knife—Erika looking up at him, lips lustfully open in enjoyment, as he winced in pain down at her.

"Hrrrmph," Raphael grunted, managing to gasp, “Nice..."

Erika opened her mouth further, sensually asking “Oh thanks, you like that, Raphael?” as she pushed as hard as she could—not getting it deeper exactly but causing it to shift around painfully as he pushed back.

Raphael strained to look up at the class, saying through gritted teeth, “Students, observe…” Suddenly Raphael’s right hand left Erika’s hand on the back of his neck, snaked between their two bodies and grabbed Erika’s neck firmly from the front, choking her. Her eyes went wide as she let go of his neck and put her hand around his.

“…Ms. Steel was so enthralled with the kill that she left herself in a defenseless position…” He yanked her knife hand, in turn pulling the knife out of his own body.

“…or—ouch—defenseless when you take into account the strength differential.”

Erika’s mouth was wide, more in surprise and a need for oxygen now than in pleasure. Shit shit shit, she thought to herself, he was letting me stab him? what the fuck? Now the female students were shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

As Erika attempted to kick and knee Raphael in the groin he parried with his own knees and thighs as he lifted and turned her, so his back was to the class and she was facing it. Holding her up by the neck with one hand as he gripped her knife hand with the other, he slowly walked her toward the whiteboard. Her bare stomach muscles tensed as she kept kicking. "Not to mention I took off my shirt and redirected her quote-unquote ‘bloodflow’," Raphael added, smirking.

Erika’s attempts to kick or knee him turned into frantic attempts to keep her feet and toes on the ground, or to try and shove him away with her legs, but nothing worked. Her whole body visibly strained. Being lifted by the neck was not fun.

Erika felt herself slammed backwards against the whiteboard, and she tried to heal kick Raphael from behind, but it was just impossible (for a woman) to generate any power at this close range. The little noises of her straining and trying to breathe were amplified throughout the room, as her microphone was never turned off.

“Gentlemen?” Raphael said, while still looking at Erika. His three male graduate students approached. With some difficulty, they picked either one of Erika’s legs or unarmed hand, prying them away from Raphael and pinning them down. Raphael loosened his grip on her throat and Erika coughed wildly. “Let me GO,” she screamed. "Fuck you!" Raphael just looked at her, holding onto her knife hand.

Erika frantically looked around the classroom at all the students filming her. This is not happening. This cannot be happening, she thought. It was all going south way too fast.

“Somebody… somebody fucking s-stop this!” she said with as much authority as she could muster, panic seeping through the rage in her voice. She had fucked up so badly. Several male students were all but masturbating in their seats, hand on their crotches, the female students seemingly in shock.

Raphael smiled, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding Erika’s knife hand in his own larger hand like a ball. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She shook her head at him.

"Raphael..."

Suddenly a noise was heard at the door. Samantha Jones barged in. She was wearing tactical pants with a sports bra and a utility belt around her ribs under it. Her two guns were drawn. Erika’s heart leapt in hope. The students all turned.

Oh thank God you got this, Samantha, Erika said through her eyes. His back toward Samantha, Raphael closed his eyes and exhaled in frustration.

Steely-eyed, Jones pointed the guns directly at Raphael. "Don't you dare," she said looking side by side to his minions. Her tone was unequivocal. “Raphael Sharp, you must immediately relea—”

BANG!

Samantha’s upper body jerked back, a small dark hole forming in the center of her forehead. Her cool face contorted into shock. Her arms splayed in the air to her sides for a moment, then her Glocks clattered to the ground. She stumbled forward a couple steps, letting out a bizarre almost snoring noise—“hhnnnggg…”—and fell to her knees. Wobbling for half a second, her eyes rolled up into her skull and she collapsed tumbling down several steps until she rested unceremoniously upside down on her back across the bottom two. Her body jerked once then went still. Gravity guided the blood from her wound into her hair.

Raphael never looked away from Erika. “Now, where were we?”

Erika looked for a moment longer in disbelief at Samantha's corpse, then back to Raphael, her eyes narrowing in anger. “Raphael, you won’t get—”

“—Time to shut you up,” he interrupted, pushing forward. Erika’s arm resisted but the force easily collapsed her arm at the elbow. The point of the blade was now at her sternum!

“—OK n-no n-n-no……”

Raphael deeply inhaled and watched her intently as the knife pricked through the strap of her sports bra. She felt the point of the blade on her skin and totally freaked out—the knife began to slice into her!

“Physical prowess, you see?” Raphael taunted. “It matters.”

He paused. Erika shivered and frantically looked up and down between his eyes on the blade piercing her skin.

“S-s-stop… R-Raphael…”

“Say it. Tell me you’re wrong.”

“F-fuck yes fine, f-fine. You’re right goddammit physical prowess just—”

“I don’t think you’re getting the point.”

"—physical prowess..."

He brought his other hand to the blade handle. Erika went wide-eyed and kicked wildly.

“n-no no what wait a minute n-nnuhrrnngghkkaa..!”

As he shoved the blade into her Erika’s legs shook crazily as her mouth gaped and emitted the most animalistic groan anyone in the room had ever heard. The male students holding her arm and legs grinned as they contained her thrashing. Her prolonged groan turned into little coughs like when you’ve exhaled fully and are trying to exhale still more. Raphael himself began breathing heavily as he looked back and forth between her eyes, her tongue and teeth, and the blade disappearing deeper and deeper into her. Her mouth was open so wide in a silent scream, veins popping out of her neck, it was like she was trying to swallow the world. She couldn’t believe it. The knife was halfway in, just like it was in him earlier - but in a much more consequential spot of a much smaller body. A thick dollop of blood ran down her stomach.

Holding the knife firm and pausing its intrusion, Raphael knelt down and licked the trail of blood all the way up her stomach to the knife in one motion. Coming back up to face her, blood on his lips, he leaned in pushing the blade more. “You bleed,” he mimicked. Raphael relished Erika’s speechlessness, her inability to express what he knew filled her mind: disbelief, feisty rage, probably some confused level of arousal. Her mouth open in awe.

John, the graduate student, was holding her other arm and was entranced. “You got her, you fucking got her professor!”

Suddenly a wet slice through flesh was heard from the side with a brief, cutoff half scream, “aaahrgh—!”

Ava stumbled forward holding her throat with Sophie watching her from behind, leaning up against the wall and rubbing herself with a ravenous grin. Erika’s head slowly lolled in that direction. “kuh… s-st…. k….” was the only noise she could seem to make to the dying Ava with her mouth wide open, nobody knowing what the fuck she was trying to say. Ava locked eyes with Erika as she fell to her knees, then her hands fell numb to her sides, her face blank with total demoralization as she keeled over, pale from instant blood loss. Ungh no… was all Erika could think.

Raphael then forcefully grabbed Erika’s chin, holding her bottom teeth with his thumb, turning her back to him. He said quietly and intimately, “Anything else to say, Dr. Steel?” Erika couldn't think of anything to say, and her mouth slowly began to relax. She could feel herself submitting to him and she hated it. Someone will come, I'm not going to die, she though irrationally. John took out his phone and began filming Erika's face up close.

Raphael spoke loudly. "Pay attention, ladies." With a strong, decisive motion, he then shoved the knife all the way through her, into the whiteboard, the blade crunching through flesh, bone, and wall. Erika bucked and grunted and strained, her noises muffled by Raphael who leaned in and captured them all in his mouth. Her eyes bugged and her arms and legs noticeably weakened suddenly. Raphael stepped back. Her tough, feisty body was now partially paralyzed. Erika looked down and marveled in disbelief at what she saw, a knife up to the hilt inside of her. The male students let go of her and all of Erika's limbs just dropped, as she was literally pinned to the wall of the lecture hall.

After admiring his work for a moment, Raphael then gripped her throat and pulled her off it and turned toward the class, holding her and choking her like a doll, her back to the class.

"Dayum," a male student said in the audience as he saw the bloody blade protruding out from Erika’s back. Suspended in the air, Erika’s legs kicked out and her back arched pointlessly.

Raphael then grabbed the knife handle with one hand and slammed her down on her back on top of the lectern, pinning her to it, her head hanging back over the front so she could see the students upside down. She tried to lift her hands up a little, bending at the elbows, but they just dropped back down. Her face was frozen in dumbfounded shock as she felt Raphael remove her athletic slacks, position her legs, and then he enter her all the way with his cock. Hooking his arms under her legs and his hands over her breasts and stomach to hold her steady, he fucked her, at first slowly and harshly, and then with more rhythm.

Erika had been so aroused when she was ‘winning’ the fight (I was winning, I was winning, right? she thought) that her vaginal muscles involuntarily contracted pleasurably around Raphael’s cock. Her nose and lips snarled in subtle reaction to the confused, involuntary pleasure. He had defeated her very womanhood.

"She's, she's cumming... she's having an orgasm..." Raphael explained to the class barely controlling his own excitement. He pressed down on her mound. "Right in here, she's spasming." The students looked at each with "Oh shit!" expressions of amazement.

Erika couldn't stand everyone watching her body and strangely erotic facial expressions as she died, but there was nothing she could do about it.

As Raphael came hard, Erika’s consciousness faded. She knew he had killed and fucked her. But her pain had now gone, and she suddenly felt weirdly light. She didn’t understand how her life could end or why she couldn’t feel her body, and she went from confusion to blur, from blur to darkness. Erika Steel was dead.