Warning: Adult content, BDSM, torture and other weird shit. (Warning is mainly for the humor attempts)

Note: I appreciate any feedback, haven't written a fanfic in years, I don't mind if you hate it. More characters will appear.

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Purple lights illuminated two female forms in a otherwise empty stripper club. Widowmaker sat frozen her seat, Tracer swayed seductively in front of her, following the rhythm of the erotic beats pumped out by the club's speakers. Hot messy chestnut hair flowing with her motion, her pilot jacket unzipped revealing large and nude perky breasts, a cheeky smirk on her face.

"You want me don't you?" she said, running a finger down Widowmaker's cheek ending on her lips, pressing it softly against them. The French woman would have bit her finger if she could, but she had no power to move. Tracer swayed in closer, her breasts so close to her face, all too close. Widowmaker could feel herself heating up, blood rushing in her veins. (As much of a rush as you'd expect of a cold person anyway).

"You little tramp! You don't fool me, I will never succumb to your vile schemes!" Widowmaker snarled, and found she could move her head, but by doing so she rubbed her face in the smooth warm skin of Tracers breasts, - who by now had pushed all the way up into her face.

"Not very convincing, love" Tracer giggled straddling her, she wore a shamelessly short skirt and sitting down revealed a neatly trimmed patch of hair. Widowmaker was trying to ignore the waterfall that was taking place between her own legs as Tracer proceeded to grind her body on hers, in rolling soft horny motions. "This is what you want, isn't it... Amiéle" She purred. Widowmaker closed her eyes shut pleading in a heavy French accent "mission first, you feel nothing, remember the mission, do not let her distract you from the-"

She felt Tracer lick her neck, following up with hot pants of breath along her neckline. "You are going to taste sooo good" her voice sultry. She had cupped Widowmakers cheeks, and was about to drive her tongue into Widowmaker's mouth when she bolted up in a sitting position, gasping for breath.

Again, that NIGHTMARE! She clenched the sheets to her blue tanned chest. Widowmaker had been having these nightmares for weeks, ever since that Tracer began showing up and foiling her regular missions. That happy, enthusiastic, cheery, stupid FACE irked her to no end. She eased her grip on the sheets as her hands where going white.

She slid off the bed hurling the clammy sheets on the floor, "BUTLER!" a head peeked in through the door, a short nod, and off it went. Her mansion could only have a few servants on standby at night, no matter how much she loathed waiting. New sheets swiftly covered her bed, but her nether regions still had an issue she had to address.

After a long and relaxing shower she again laid in bed, exhausted and yet still frustrated. Nothing she did could get rid of the frustration. She hardly ever feels strain on her body, her body is perfectly engineered after-all. But her mind, - her mind could be corrupted! All this frustration was that little vixens doing!

Widowmaker was a great deducer, her mind never failed her, surely her dreams were telling her the truth, even as strange as they were. Now she knew what Tracer was doing on her spare time, she was a stripper! An impure harlot, strutting around showing all her... Body... To strangers! Even to her, while in her sights. This was clearly Tracers plot to make her lose focus and become vulnerable.

"I need to make that Tracer pay, I should kill her in her sleep." Twisting around in her fresh sheets. "No, she needs to suffer, I need to make that vixen pay dearly for distracting me from completing my missions... Death is too simple and painless" She reasoned, nodding to herself. "Being all cheery and incredibly fit in those tight track-pants... Yes, I will show her!"

Widowmaker stood up and walked gracefully to her closet, opening it and taking out a black rope, pulling at it to test it's tensile strength. The closet held quite a few other rather curious objects. However, she seemed pleased with her choice and a evil grin filled her otherwise emotionless face.

"Now, how does a spider catch a teeny fly?"