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Sex-Fight on Snake Mountain 2

Trapjaw Vs. Kobra Kahn

He'd been waiting for this: the day he would finally get the better of his nemesis. Day in and day out he's been getting prepared.

Their previous encounter ended on a sour note. He'd cornered his elusive enemy, the dreaded Kobra Khan, after a long and exhausting chase through Snake Mountain, only to fall victim to one of his traps. He'd recovered from the strange powder to find his enemy had fled, though he knew where he'd go. There was an open passage at the back of the room, where there wasn't one when he first went in.

Down the passage was a large room, decked out in training gear. There was even a wrestling ring. It was within that very ring that Kobra Khan had decided to make his stand.

He rushed to the ring, hopping onto the edge of the canvas and then again over the ropes into the ring itself. Kobra Khan had already entered the ring, looking his enemy over from the opposing turnbuckle with a condescending sneer.

... And, were he to be completely honest, more than a little admiration. Coming in at about six foot six, Trapjaw certainly cut an impressive figure. The top of his head was covered with a crimson-colored mask that went down to the bridge of his nose, settling just inches above his similarly-colored metal jaw. His expansive chest glistened with sweat; a hold-over from his earlier pursuit of his cunning arch-nemesis. On the bridge of his left arm was a sort of armband, with rectangular metal studs encircling its black leather. Fingerless gloves, sporting the same foreboding crimson shade as his mask and jaw, finalized the accessories on his left arm.

His left arm, however, was a different story. Having lost the use of his original appendage earlier in his crime-fighting career -and against the same person, no less- he'd opted for a replacement, something that would better serve him against his sworn enemy. The first few replacements, hook arms and gun arms, didn't exactly go over as well as he'd have liked. In his searches he'd stumbled across a young genius who, after hearing about what had happened and what he needed, had promised to help him.

And help him he did: by the end of the week the tech-savvy twerp had retrofitted a new arm. This new arm was the same shape as his original one was- a testament to the young man's skill - but that's where the similarities ended. His new arm had a silver-sheen to it - a fact that had it not have been for the camouflage feature that made it look like his original one, might have caused trouble in his civilian life - and was much, much stronger. It took him a few months to get the hang of it. He'd originally wanted weapons built into it but the gadgeteer talked him out of it, owing to his reckless nature and inexperience with his new arm.

That wasn't the only thing he got. A large, bright-yellow utility belt encircled his waist, its many pockets each sporting a tool of some kind. Just below the belt was a pair of crimson wrestling trunks, with a gold emblem with a large green 'T' across its jutting crotch.

And last were the cybernetic attachments he had made to his legs, which came up to about the middle of his thighs. They, like his arm, had suffered at Kobra Khan's hands: only they weren't damaged as much as his arm was. The damage to them was more cosmetic and not nearly as through. As such, Trapjaw was able to wear things over them: like the black wrestling boots with white inlay or the black knee-pads with neon-green padding.

His enemy's wardrobe was more streamlined. Everything he wore was bronze: his fingerless gloves, the thin eye-mask he used, his satin wrestling trunks, his leather belt, his boots... all of them were bronze. The only things that weren't bronze were the diamond studs that adorned his belt. He'd acquired the belt during a heist and liked it so much that he made it part of his outfit; it helped that it went with the rest of his costume. His 'hood', and the small dark-bronze loops that went from the small of his back, up over his shoulders, and down his chest, were as much a factor in choosing his costume as was his vanity.

And true to his name, Kobra Khan had within him a multitude of venoms and toxins, each of which could be expelled from his body in a number of ways. His trademark move was spitting acid; not exactly the most original but quite the effective deterrent against overzealous heroes. 'Trapjaw' was living proof of that.

He himself was otherwise unimposing. A slim swimmer's build, while not necessarily a bad thing, didn't do much to strike fear the way Trapjaw's muscular frame did. His own reputation was usually enough to strike terror into the hearts of others.

"How nice of you to drop by," said the dastardly villain, "almosst didn't think you'd come."

"I'll follow you to the ends of the earth," roared the cerulean hero. "Ain't nothing' gonna stop me from bring you to justice!"

Kobra Khan let out a deep chuckle. "Alwayss with the dramaticss. Did you sso quickly forget our lasst encounter?"

Trapjaw glared at him from across the ring. "Things'll be different this time, scaly," he roared, "you ain't gonna get away from me this time."

The snake-man was hardly bothered, leisurely stretching his limbs in front of the irritated hero.

"That's funny, I ssseem to remember you ssaying ssomething like that lasst time. Maybe thiss time you'll put up more of a fight."

"You'd better believe it, fang-face!"

Trapjaw didn't wait for the villain to finish stretching and charged across the ring at him. A quick side-step, and even quick sweep of his leg, by Kobra Khan saw Trapjaw bouncing off the ropes and falling backwards onto the mat.

"A sssneak attack," mused the masked snake-man. "Not very effective. Next time, make sssure my back iss turned."

Trapjaw was barely in a mind to listen, the cries of his injured pride won over the opponent's ill-intentioned advice. He looked up to find Kobra Khan's hood flare up, and tumbled away on instinct. The sizzling sounds, and acrid smell, told him what had happened even before he saw the dripping hole in the canvas.

"Like that."

The slight fear that always came after seeing the acid gave Trapjaw a burst of energy, which he used to slide into Kobra Khan, whose veil had not yet retracted. He placed one arm below and between Kobra Khan's legs while his other one went towards his head, and before Kobra Khan knew what was going on, he found himself suspended across Trapjaw's massive shoulders. And once Trapjaw was confident that he was securely locked into place he started to bounce, his massive pecs bouncing with each squat.

"Might as well give up Khan," he said, as he continued pumping him, "It'll make things easier on ya."

What our prideful hero had apparently forgotten was that his enemy's name was more than just a fancy title: like the dreaded snake to which he owed his name, Khan's reptilian physiology allowed for incredible feats of flexibility. And as such, it wasn't terribly difficult to twist his body so that Trapjaw's hold didn't hurt. It was even less of a hassle to keep it from him: our dauntless hero hadn't stopped boasting about the many ways he'd hurt him. Kobra Khan had to stifle a chuckle at how ineffective his enemy was before he made his move.

"Aaaaagghhhh!!"

Trapjaw roared as Kobra Khan sank his fangs into the cleft of his shoulder. It didn't exactly hurt him, but he did feel a searing pain in his shoulder. To Trapjaw's credit he didn't immediately let go. Instead he twisted his body on the hip, sprang to the side, and slammed the villain that bit him into the canvas so hard that it shook the entire ring.

The impact knocked the wind out of the Kobra. He didn't think that the hero would be able to do that, especially after being injected with such potent venom.

"It'll take more than that to bring me down."

Though he said that, his still guzzled down some anti-toxin; he had enough sense to pack his belt full of the stuff. He finished just as Kobra Khan right himself, his wobbly stance betraying his weakness.

"Oh no you don't!"

Kobra Khan saw the silver of Trapjaw's arm before he felt the mechanized appendage clamp itself onto his throat, restricting his airways and, consequently, his ability to spit acid.

"Now let's see you get out of this, punk!"

With a lion's roar Trapjaw uplifted his enemy before slamming him onto the canvas with such force that the entire ring shook. The force had stunned Kobra Khan, whose body bounced lifelessly on the mat. He lay there, weakened and gasping for air, as Trapjaw knelled down beside him.

"That's what you get, ya walkin hand-bag. Ought to know better than ta bite me."

A long dry cough was the only reply Kobra Kahn could muster. Trapjaw, upon hearing this, bought his head towards Kobra Khan's.

"What was that," he taunted, bringing a hand to his ear in mock concern, "I couldn't hear ya."

Khan coughed a little louder, with some deep wheezing that Trapjaw took as Kobra Khan muttering insults under his breath.

Trapjaw leaned ever closer, getting directly in Kobra Khan's face. "Don't ya get smart with me," he growled, his eyes beneath his mask blazing with rage, "You got something to say ta me then SAY - aahhh!!"

Trapjaw wasn't able to finish his sentence before being blasted with powder, via Kobra Khan's rapid-fire hood action. He jumped backwards in shock, hacking and coughing like Kobra Khan used to, while the latter rose to his feet, his wobbly stance hardly surprising.

"That'ss what... you... get." That slam had taken a lot out of him. Not that he hadn't bounced back from worse. "You... never... were... too sssmart metalhead."

Although Trapjaw had indeed heard him, the entirety of his attention was directed elsewhere. The powder he'd been sprayed with wasn't poison or a sleeping powder like he expected. Instead...

"Gaahh!! When'd it get so hot?!?"

Trapjaw's trashing about helped spread whatever it was that Kobra Khan had doused him with through his system; which, incidentally, was exactly what Khan wanted. The increased heat overlapped with an increase in sensitivity. Normally, Trapjaw's skin was rock-hard - one of the quirks of having a patchwork body- but something in that powder changed all that; he could literally feel the air in the room, despite the lack of windows or wind. The strange sensations also seemed to have an impact on his robotics; the effects of the powder messed up something in the nerve-endings connecting his arm with the rest of the body, effectively rendering the blasted thing useless. His legs, only boasting cosmetic changes, weren't as badly off as his arm, though his legs did become a bit more sluggish. It took a great deal of willpower on Trapjaw's part to overcome the sensory overload.

"Do you like it," Kobra Khan said as he sauntered up to Trapjaw. "I made it jusst for you."

With a frustrated growl Trapjaw lunged at Kobra Khan, who simply dodged and blasted him again with that irritating powder of his. Trapjaw roared in shock and alarm as the powder's effects immediately took place, exasperating his already debilitating condition. That one blast doubled that infernal sensitivity boost he'd gotten from the initial discharge, which, when compounded by the heat and inoperative parts, made moving a chore.

"It'ss a new blend," the Khan hissed as he circled our hero, savoring the constipated expression on the shivering Trapjaw wore like a mask. "Thought it might sspruce thingsss up a bit."

Fear gave way to shame, which for Trapjaw might as well have been anger. Focusing as best he could he begin to swing at the smirking kobra, who proceeded to humiliate him further by dancing out of the way of each strike.

"Stand still!!"

But Kobra Khan wouldn't; he was having too much fun. Eventually, however, it got to where he didn't even have to move: each frenzied swipe saw the powder circulate throughout his body that much faster. The resultant sensory overload got so disorienting that, after a vivid punch that sent Trapjaw sprawling forward, he had to stop and take a breather.

"So...hot..."

Trapjaw's struggle for control over his own body was made obvious by the tiny tremors that seemed to course the entirety of his frame, a fact that hadn't gone unnoticed by Khan. And though Trapjaw was able open an eye to see him coming at him, he was unable to do much else

"Sstill haven't figured out the effectsss of my dusst hero? Here, let me sshow you..."

Trapjaw's eyes shot open upon feeling Kobra Khan's fingers on his crotch. Swatting Khan's hands away he jumped backwards, covering his crotch with trembling hands.

"H-Hey," he stuttered, eyeing the sinister serpent with a renewed vigor, "hands off the merchandise - aahh!!"

He was cut off by another blast of Kobra Khan's special 'dust'. Instinctively his hands flew over his face, leaving him exposed to the Khan.

"Whew," hissed the snake, "very good. But I wonder... how doess thisss," Khan laid a finger over one of Trapjaw's peninsular nips, enticing a gasp from the big lummox, "feel?"

When Trapjaw could do no more than gasp from the unwanted pleasure, Kobra Khan continued to press buttons. "Oh? Well, how about thisss?" Another moan. "Or thisss?" More moaning. "Or what about thiss?"

Trapjaw stood helpless as Kobra Khan continued his erotic assault: his moans drawing out as it dragged on. Khan kept his touches soft but brief, wanting to draw it out as much as possible. He drew a special pleasure from watching Trapjaw quiver under his touch.

This continued for a few good minutes Kobra Khan stopped with the poking and stepped back to assess the damage. To say that Trapjaw had seen better days would be an understatement. the big blue brute's body was practically covered with sweat, the soft lighting highlighting his glistening, trembling form. Teeth and fist were clinched in the effort to control himself. Through it all though, he'd never taken his eyes off Khan.

"Uuukkk... guuhhh!"

A rather dark smirk crossed KK's face.

"At a losss for wordsss, big guy," he sneered, casting an approving eye over Trapjaw's shivering form, "ssuch a worrissome ssstate. Maybe it'll be better if you were to stop moving."

Trapjaw had but a moment to worry about the sudden lapse in Kobra Khan's stuttering before he felt his body stop shivering. Or rather, before he could no longer feel his body.

Khan sauntered up to Trapjaw, his leisurely pace betraying his confidence. "Can't feel a thing can you? I told you that I made it especially for you." He stuck his tongue out and shook his head at those last few words. "Would you like to know how? That brat, the one you got your arm from? Well he made it for me. He was most agreeable, especially after I... worked over his overgrown ape of a bodyguard. A special bio-mechanical cocktail, designed to shut down whatever parts of your body I so choose. Granted, I did spice it up a bit with some pheromones. It kept me from controlling your arm but," his gaze went downward, "that's not what I'm really after."

Trapjaw could do nothing but watch while Khan went down in front of him. His breath hitched when he felt Khan pull his trunks down.

"Beautiful." Khan eyed Trapjaw's drooling cock and hefty ball-sack with barely contained lust. One hand went to the hero's low-hangers while the other held the dripping blue torpedo, scooping some of the pre-cum into his hand and bringing it back to his mouth.

"Tasty," he said, as he licked his beak, "Now let's have the rest."

Kobra Khan then began to give Trapjaw the blowjob of his life. He started slowly, first going down to the balls, back up to the crown, and then back again, gradually picking up speed. With his other hand he kneaded Trapjaw's balls, twirling the blue orbs around in his hands like marbles. Khan did his level best to draw the whole thing out, inwardly reveling in Trapjaw's powerlessness. The moans Trapjaw unwillingly muttered were like ecstasy to him.

A long moan from Trapjaw alerted Kobra Kahn to the impending orgasm. In one swift motion Khan sucked the big blue rig into his mouth, holding it there until it blew. Volley after volley of thick, salty-sweet jism shot down Kobra Khan's throat. The hand on Trapjaw's sac continued its attack, squeezing the cum out of his quivering balls. His hips bucked with each shot, instinct temporary overriding Kobra Khan's venom. Trapjaw's eyes cross in sexual bliss; He didn't want to admit it but he was really enjoying himself.

When the orgasm began to die down Khan began massaging Trapjaw's man-tool with his throat, coaxing a few more shots before it went completely flaccid.

Trapjaw swayed on unsteady feet, The orgasm having taken a lot out of him. He looked down to Kobra Kahn, who was busy licking his crotch clean. It occurred to him that while he could feel Khan's tongue on his dick, it didn't overload him like it did before. As a matter of fact, a lot of the sensitivity from earlier had gone. He tested it by flexing his arms, .

But he wasn't the only one who noticed that the toxin had worn off. Catching sight of Trapjaw flexing his arm Kobra Khan sprang into action. He flipped up his kobra hood and dusted the hapless hero with sleeping powder. Trapjaw was out before he hit the ground.

"Nighty-night."

...

Trapjaw awoke with a groan, weak and disoriented.

"Uugghh..."

He opened his eyes to find himself with his back propped up against one of the turnbuckles and held in place with ropes. His arms were bound over the top ropes while his legs were secured over the bottom ropes. A series of ropes held his mid-section in place while his legs were chained to the bottom rope by their ankles and his forearms were chained to the top rope. And though his trunks were back in place, his dark yellow tool-belt was gone.

"I see you're awake."

Trapjaw tilted his head up to see a self-satisfied Kobra Khan coming towards him from across the ring. His missing tool-belt was strapped over Kobra Khan's shoulder.

"You were out for some time. I was worried."

The weakness that Trapjaw felt earlier seemed to grown with each word Kobra Khan spoke. He tried to break out but couldn't move his body. Apparently Khan had given him another blast of that blasted powder of his while he was under. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't move his body. Just trying to talk took a lot out of energy.

"Mmmggg... uuggghhh."

"As you might have guessed I gave you another shot of venom while you slept, stronger than the first one." He snickered at Trapjaw's shocked expression. "Not to worry. It'll wear off in a manner of hours. Besides," he stopped right in front of Trapjaw and stared to kneel down, "there's only one part of your body I want to ussse..."

A sudden hardness in Trapjaw's lower region brought his own gaze downward; watching in horror as his cock took a life of its own, growing towards Kobra Khan's face like a plant in the sun.

Khan bobbed his head several times, with Trapjaw's captivated cock imitating his movements. "He likes me," he cooed, giving Trapjaw's dick a friendly pat, grinning as it shot some pre-cum in exchange. He grinned even harder at Trapjaw's anguished groan. "Let's give him some air."

Trapjaw watched helplessly as Khan pulled his trunks down and secured them just below his balls. His eyes grew wide at how his dick looked: bigger, thicker, and definitely darker than it was before. It was apparent where the bulk of Khan's new toxin had gone.

"See? All better. Now," and then he looked up at Trapjaw, "you ready for this?"

Trapjaw watched Khan rise to his feet, winching in pain as his cock followed him up. "We don't be needing this." Trapjaw watched Khan take off his belt and toss it over his shoulders. "Or these..." The dastardly snake then proceeded to do a little strip-tease, undressing himself with slow, sensuous movements. Trapjaw's traitorous cock bounced wildly as Khan pulled his trunks down, dripping large amounts of pre-cum onto the canvas. Fighting it was no good; all he could do was feel. He couldn't 'control' anything.

Once the trunks were down Khan kicked them aside and stepped towards an irritated Trapjaw, whose cock had begun to sway in time with the snake's own hips. Only when Khan had placed both feet over Trapjaw's legs did it stop moving.

Trapjaw could do nothing but grunt and groan as Kobra Khan dropped his pinched rear-end on his fat drooling cock and eased it in. The prodigious amount of pre-cum made the initial entry easier.

Khan was gentle but firm, using slow movements to draw every part of Trapjaw's dick to every part of his insides. The overwhelming sensations threatened to tear Trapjaw apart. Though he didn't want to admit it a small part of him enjoyed being worked over. Kobra Khan's pert little but was working over his blue missile like nobody's business; every little bounce luring more baby-batter.

Khan took his sweet time riding Trapjaw. He knew that the bonds holding Trapjaw couldn't handle too much. And he didn't want to hurt him. Just... maybe wound his pride a little. And evidently, Trapjaw was enjoying this as much as he was. The little bounces Trapjaw's hips gave every time Khan went down wasn't something he willed it to do. And neither were the ooing and aaing Trapjaw did.

It was then that Khan got an idea he wanted to try out. He went down on Trapjaw once more and then went back up again, with Trapjaw giving him a pitiful look as he did so.

"Oh don't worry handsome. I just got an idea I'd like to try."

Trapjaw stared up at Khan as he turned himself around, giving the captive blue hero a good look at the working over he gave his ass. Trapjaw watched as Kobra Khan went into the same position he was in before. He barely had time to wonder about the slit between Khan's legs before Khan went down and drew Trapjaw's cock inside said slit.

"Aaaahhh..."

Trapjaw's eyes crossed with pleasure as he felt the inner walls, soft like cotton and smooth like velvet, molded themselves to accommodate for his massive cock. Every part of his man-meat was massaged and pampered, making him cum even more than before. The soft bumps his hips gave his captor's ass were replaced by a series of smaller, shorter thrusts; His own body betraying him.

Above him Kobra Khan struggled against giving in. The feeling it gave him was far more than he anticipated. Trapjaw's drooling cannon acclimated to his slit as though it was made for it. Khan was almost positive that the meat-head had cum even more than before. The growing puddle beneath them attested to that.

The pressure soon became more than he could bare, and before he could stop himself Khan's dick gave out, cumming inside the slit alongside Trapjaw, who could barely make out what was going on. To him it was all the same warm and gooey feeling.

Khan's orgasm dragged out for the better part of 5 minutes, with Trapjaw still going. When his own cock had stopped coming he pulled off of Trapjaw's, whose own flow had begun to slow. On unsteady feet he opened his slit, watching with pride as their collected semen pooled on the ground. Trapjaw's cock was still squirting small botches of cum; its original coloring coming back as his orgasm died down.

Trapjaw moaned as his orgasm came to a halt, his head falling onto his chest just as his cock went flaccid and flopped to the floor. He took to wheezing so heavily that it looked as though his whole body was trying to breathe.

Khan wasn't doing all that much better. "That was good," was all Khan could muster. In lieu of any more he leaned down and gave Trapjaw a peck on the cheek, watching in amazement as his dick lurched at the sensation. He gave Trapjaw's cock a few soft pats, to which Trapjaw moaned as it was still sensitive, before gathering his trunks and Trapjaw's belt and leaving. He cast a quick glance at Trapjaw before turning off the lights and closing the door.

Inwardly, Trapjaw knew that the venom would wear off soon and that then he could escape. But that small part of him that liked what had happened to him urged him to stay; to give himself over to Khan. His last thought before exhaustion overtook him and he fell unconscious was what the others would think if he did so.