Avril Lavigne vs Miley Syrus

continued from: http://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php/topic,16512.0.html


The beatdown would not be tolerated. No way. She had been lucky, and that was that. Avril Lavigne told herself and everyone she could entrust with the news of her defeat. It wasn’t even a real fight when Miley Cyrus had beaten her at that beach. It was an outrage for her to even feel proud of the victory!

And that was where her idea brewed into fruition. She had called together an exclusive interview and released her public announcement of what had happened. She and Miley had gotten into a belly punching contest on the beach, and feeling naturally superior and overconfident, she had managed to slip up and let Miley get the best of her. Now she wanted to prove once and for all to everyone that she was the top pop star.

She openly challenged Miley to a public match (even making the call to Miley personally in front of her interviewer), held in a stadium and selling tickets to fans who wanted to come and see her bitter rival beaten down and humiliated before their very eyes by their absolute favorite celeb singer.

…to paraphrase, naturally.

There was a sizable crowd at the arena, eager to be present when Avril came out in an old favorite from a modeling shoot. She wore black leather for her top and long pants, white lace around her cleavage and chords crossing under her chest, cutting off promptly before exposing a large portion of her belly. She paraded to the ring as her song “Hot”s chorus played over the loudspeaker, hands up over her head to urge on the loud cheering of the crowd. Some cheered just for the fight itself, but many supported the punky spunky singer. She had a bad girl persona that many thought would carry her to the top of this fight.

Seemingly the smarter and more selective fighters favored the second fighter to enter the ring. As Avril’s music faded out, Miley came in by the other side of the stadium’s entrance in a white robe. Her hit “Party In the USA” blasted overhead as she walked to the ring with a calmer, more professional air to her. She still smiled wide to her fans and gave out high fives and a brief autograph or two on the way to the ring, much like Avril had.

“Get over yourself, little girl!” Avril called from the ring before her opponent even reached it, jeering to the approval of her own fans. “Just get in here and get that ass kicked so the crowd can get some nice shots of me posing on your beaten fugly bod.”
“Fugly, huh?” Miley scoffed back at ringside, folding her arms and smirking. “Folks, you turned offwhen you see this?” Cyrus threw back her shoulders and dropped her robe to the ground, baring a striking yellow bikini. The crowd lit up with approaching hoots and cheers as her young figure was almost completely exposed, jutting out her hip and resting a palm on its opposite. She stood there a minute, holding her pose and letting the crowd soak in the sight that was her body.

Avril gaped for a second, but snapped out of it and maintained a simple blush, hoping that most of the crowd wouldn’t notice at this range. “Jeez, slut it up some more, why don’t you? Getting off to all those eyes on your skanky vag hanging out of that slut suit?”

Miley scowled up at her before even touching the ring yet. “Grow up, will you? You’re just jealous. You’re nothing special, you’re just a tramped up wannabe who can never be as big as I am.”

Avril scoffed coolly. “You really think so? You’re always in my shadow, twerp. Should realize you’re outclassed and not ready to play with the big girls just yet.”

Miley folded her arms and just smiled back coolly. “You weren’t talking like that last time on the beach.”

“Oh grow up,” Avril dismissed with a scoff and a wave of her hand. “That was child’s play. You might have a tougher stomach, what with all that fat you piled on there, but this is a REAL fight. Against a grown girl like me?” She flexed one pale slender arm proudly. “You haven’t got a chance.”

“Grown up,” Miley chuckled as she climbed into the ring and the cheers escalated from the impending fight and the trash talk. “Could have fooled me.”

Taking a cheap shot at her while she entered crossed Avril’s mind, but she decided to pass on the opportunity. This was a real fight, and she was the older and stronger of the two, obviously. She wouldn’t need that much of an edge to beat her.

“Oh what? Think cuz you’re taller you’re tougher, slut?” Avril scoffed. “Cuz that won’t save you.”

“Actually I was talking about that big bullseye of a belly you have. Remember last week’s beach show? Not what you’d call your usual ‘belly dance’ now is it?”

“Lucky shot! Not like you haven’t gotten lucky with a few dozen strangers ever since you came to Hollywood, is it, whore?” Avril spat back.

“You’re nothing but weaksauce, Avril. Weak talk, weak music, weak body. And the whole world’s gonna see it, along with ALL three of your fans.”

Avril cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders. “Alright, time to shut your cock-hungry mouth, bitch.” She raised her fists, ready for Miley’s face and stomach to repay her humiliation.

There was a bell ringing overhead, not that the girls intended to wait anyway. They circled a bit, unsteadily matched since neither were especially trained at this sort of thing. Avril couldn’t restrain herself for long, though, zipping in to send a slap for Miley’s cute but smirking face. Miley still saw it coming, reaching up to grab her forearm. Right off the bat, Miley’s fist shot in under Avril’s guard and hit her bare belly with an audible smack.

Avril huffed and stumbled back, eyes wide for a moment as she held her stomach and backed up. Miley grabbed her by the fabric of her top, pulling her back towards her and giving a short-range slap across Avril’s face. She stumbled and almost lost her footing entirely, staggering to one side holding her cheek and looking shocked. The fans shouted out in approval at the start of the match in general, with Miley’s fans added to the mix.

Miley raised her hands up proudly, flexing her thin (but notably thicker than Avril’s) arms boisterously for the crowd. “What’s the matter? That little pudding gut of yours done in already? Thought you took at least TWO punches last time.”

Avril coughed but gathered herself into her angry expression again soon enough.  “You wish, bitch! You’ll pay for that!” She lunges after Miley, stopping one arm midslap as she sank her claws into Miley’s hair. Miley shrieked out as the punk teen twisted at her styled hair, flailing at her wildly as she’s distracted by Avril’s dirty fighting. Miley screams out as her scalp stings, kicking at Avril’s legs and throwing her off balance briefly before she went on with her attack. She swung Miley by her hair over her hip, making her flop over and land on her butt, wincing and holding her hip where she’d landed. Avril fumed and went after her, but Miley leaned on her palms and swung a kick into Avril’s ankles, tripping her back to the mat as well.

Back on her level, Miley pounced on her and grabbed for her wrists. Avril struggled to resist her, but Miley was heavier and stronger, so her resistance futilely pressing on a few seconds before her hands were mashed flat to the mat. Avril growled and thrashed wildly, kicking at the mat like a tantrum in the face of Miley’s trapping grip.
“Gotcha now, you weak dirty bitch!” huffed Miley, face red with effort and pain from her scalp. She leaned her hips back and banged them into Avril, her body bouncing on top of her in a mocking humping motion, but also helping in knock the wind out of the loudmouth. Avril grunted and huffed with each slam, body shaking slightly beneath her foe’s.

Miley finally got up, shaking out her hair from her face as she rested on her knees. Avril coughed for air, so she was wide open when Miley sat up straight, clamped her hands together, and slammed her fists down as a double axe-handle slam down on Avril’s stomach. The Canadian singer almost doubled over while still flat on her back, legs and arms whipping up as the wind flew from her mouth, leaving her speechless for the first time in a long while.

Avril wailed out weakly and held her bashed belly, rolling miserably as Miley got up to her feet, smiling down on her whining rival. She raised her hands to her cheeks, wringing her fists in a mock-crying motion teasing the already tenderized Canadian. “Don’t mind her, folks. Baby has a tender tummy.” Avril was starting to show some signs of getting herself together when Miley walked over to her and landed an elbow drop to her belly, smashing another loud cry from the rival teen temptress.

The crowd was wound up with the beatdown, cheering on Miley’s rapid lead and some trying to back Avril into making a comeback. Miley soaked up the attention proudly, knowing she wasn’t going to let the scrawny loudmouth bitch get the best of her before a crowd. She reached down and grabbed Avril by the ankle, pulling her leg upward and locking her fingers around her foot. She twisted it as she fell backward, bending the limb out of shape away from her groin. Avril screamed out and held her thigh muscle, trying to endure the pain of the simple hold as she reached for Miley’s hands, but her own long legs damning her from reaching her assailant.

Avril too refused to lose to the younger, stuck up slut who beat her last time. She grit her teeth, biting back her screams and managing to pull herself into an upright sitting position. Her face was clearly contorted in pain to do so as Miley put on the pressure. Avril actually didn’t reach for Miley’s gripping arm, instead reaching down her blouse. She came out with a clenched fist, Miley unable to see what was going on until her fist crashed into Miley’s belly with shocking force, smashing upward under her ribs and into her guts.

Miley gagged and curled up in a fetal position, wincing and rubbing her belly in agony. The shot had been aimed perfectly by the bitter enemy, and she hadn’t caught sight of Avril putting the roll of quarters into her palm to fortify her punch. There was no ref to speak of to stop her, and they hadn’t agreed to any particular rules to begin with. It was a fight, not a match or a particular contest. “Yea, like that, bitch!?” Avril shouted down at her foe, a mix of cheers and boos sounding off. “Would’ve thought you’d see that coming. Whore like you must be used to money stuffed down her clothes.”

Avril struck a pose or two over her still agonizing foe, cameras going off like wild as Avril tried to bite back the pain in her own belly and leg to show off some more. She finally leaned in over Miley’s face, sticking out her tongue inches from her face and waving her weapon proudly, gloatingly at her. Miley barely had her eyes open enough to see this and to fume at it, but still just getting her breath back.

Avril raised her fist high and proudly, shouting a gloating “YEAAA!” to the crowd, firing them up before she gave a short jump, diving down at her and dropping her fist right at her gut. Of course, the war cry and Miley’s blurry vision gave her fair warning to roll away from the blow. Avril gave a yelp as clutched her hand, suddenly mashed between the mat and the quarters that rapidly reddened her fingers when her weapon bit back at her. Miley scowled at the cheating brawler.

“Unlike you, my gut can handle more than one punch!” she snapped, leaning on her arms and shooting a kick out to slam her heel into the stunned Avril’s chest. She grunted out in surprise, clutching her small breasts before another kick sank into her soft stomach. Avril went to her knees, falling onto her face and groaning out loudly, shaking her head weakly as if in denial about the pain.

“Yea, your little pain-sponge of a gut like that?”  Miley taunted back at her foe, reaching for her foe when Avril swung blindly for her. She grabbed Avril’s wrist, and the roll fell into Miley’s hand. She saw it and pieced this together, scowling down at Avril. The bitchy Canadian who had picked a fight with her, lost, did it again, called her a whore, and then cheated during the fight before both their fans. The crowd gasped and murmured a bit at Miley taking the weapon, mulling this over.

She threw it away outside the ring. She was all those things, but she’d also be the bitch who nobody would say Miley needed any outside help to beat the shit out of. She lifted her shirt a bit to check the bruise on her belly, scowling at Avril. Her midriff looked much worse than hers, red and blue and sore from her various blows. Avril was trying to get her wits together enough to sit up, but held her aching abs as she tried and failed with the pain in her guts.

Miley wasn’t going to show any more mercy for that reason, so she threw herself on top of Avril, swinging her fists and slaps rapidly into Avril, as fast as she could whip her hands at her. Avril shrieked and cried out like a frightened child, any air of maturity and confidence draining from her as Miley went berserk on her aching body. She got her hands on Avril’s hair, not pulling but rather using it as a handle for bashing her head back into the mat over and over. She let go, shoving her face into the mats and standing over her, scowling down at Avril.

“That all you got!? Come on, get up! Dare you!” Miley ranted at her, Avril only starting to sob and shivering on the mat. Miley smacked her bare cleavage in challenge at her, daring her to get up and hit her back. She actually stood and waited almost half a minute, goading her and clapping her hands to work up the crowd at her triumphant moment. “Come on! Where’s that big mouth, smartass!? Seems like a lot of work to call people out here just so I can OFFICIALLY prove I’m better than you,” Miley pressed, stomping on her back when Avril rolled over to try and hide her shamed face. Miley laughed and waved to the crowd, pointing down at her. “Everyone want to see me finish off this pathetic, smelly slut you were cheering for me to kick the crap out of?” she boasted, the crowd roaring in approval regardless of original loyalties.

Miley bent over her, grabbing Avril’s lovely top and tearing it off in a mess of snapping strings and popping buttons. “Now that we know what a weak whore you really are, might as well dress more like one. Not like that’s hard for you, right?”

Avril was left topless, barely able to bring her hands over her chest in embarrassment but Miley grabbing her wrists and pulling them apart. “Oh knock that off! Not like everyone who’s heard you name hasn’t seen them already!” She forced Avril to stand up, her belly aching to do so as Miley shoved her top half through the middle ropes, grabbing her chin and bending her backward by it, arching her back so that her sore belly and tender tits were bared to the crowd, wide and clear with perky little nipples hard with excitement and cold open air.

“Uhhn! Let go! Stoooop!” Avril wailed out. “I’m sorry already, just stop!”

“She’s such an attention whore, I bet she’s loving this,” Miley laughed.  Avril groaned in pain and coughed for air, Miley ramming forward to slam her knee in to Avril’s back, getting another scream from her.
“AHHHHHGH!”
“Tell the fans who won, bitch! Say how much your cheating helped you win!”
“I’m sorry!” Avril blurted miserably, face twisted in pain as she blushed. “You won! I’m sorry! Let me go! Please!” She was visibly broken before her foe and her fans, Miley letting her go from the humiliating pose. It was just that, she determined, not nearly as dirty a trick as Avril would excuse herself. She had the moral highground, she felt, and was going to keep it that way, even when humiliating and punishing the bitch.

Miley dragged her from between the ropes, turning her around to face the crowd again in the middle of the ring. “Louder skank! Who won?” Before she could answer, she kicked her legs out from under Avril, the Canadian songstress yelping out as she landed on her side on the mat, her head thumping against the mat and holding her skull as her head pounded. Miley went over and pressed her heel down on Avril’s head, mashing her cheek into the mat. “Say it, tramp! Don’t let my beating your ass stop you.”
“Youuuu!” Avril wailed out, thrashing and clawing at the mat to try and drag herself out from under her foe. “Oh god, you’re crushing me! Please, fucking stop!” Her head was throbbing from the beating and stomping, the shame and intense effort just adding to the headache.
“Say my name! Say who won!”
“Miley! Miley Cyrus!”
“Use some real sentences, you stupid cunt!” Miley laughed at her. “I know you’re stupid (I mean, you DID challenge me), but I at least thought you’d have a cock out of your mouth long enough to learn how to talk.”
“Miley Cyrus kicked my ass! She fucked me up! She’s the champ!” Avril sobbed out hysterically, desperate to end the pain at this point. “Let go! Let go, I’ll say anything! I’m a slut! I’m a failure! I’m a shitty musician and you’re so much better than me!”
Miley pulled on her hair hard, raising her to her knees. She slapped Avril’s face back and forth. “Again. You know the fans love hearing you fail, and agreeing with all my praises.”
“You’re so good,” Avril sobbed out, face twisted in sorrow, pain, and shame. “You’re stronger, you’re the better singer. You can kick my ass, even if there were three of me! Me and all my friends wouldn’t have a chance, but it’s because I have so few friends!”
Miley grinned at her, then pulled her hair to shove her face into flexing arm. “Kiss it,” Miley commanded. “Praise the muscles that beat you.” Avril whimpered and kissed the bicep as commanded, licking it over in disgustingly overt sexual nature. Miley laughed loudly in her face as she did, Avril’s saliva and tears dampening her arm.
Miley tore up on her hair, ripping out a few strands and throwing it aside. Avril was left minus a handful of hair, standing awkwardly with her legs wide apart, holding her scalp and barely standing, like a half-nude scarecrow.

Miley pulled Avrils pants around her ankles, then spanked her loudly on the buttocks. She shrieked as her panties were smacked, then again louder when Miley smacked her bare buttocks. A third, harder one make her leap several inches and try to run away, tripping over her pants and falling pathetically onto her bare tits and face on the mat, much to the crowd’s laughter. She grabbed the ropes, pulling herself up to her knees as Miley came in from behind, grabbing her by her slutty black thong and pulling upward, wedging the already tight garment up deep into her ass and pussy. Avril screeching out in shamed pain at the wedgie. It seemed to be all the strength she had just to do that.

Miley leaned back, one foot on Avril’s back as she yanked the wedgie hard, finally the thong snapping off mostly in Miley’s hands, the rest lost somewhere deep inside of Miley’s various slutty holes. Miley grinned and took her handful of underwear, taking Avril’s hair to turn her around and shove the firstful of cloth into her mouth, Avril gagging meekly as she was forcefed her own panties. Miley dragged her back to her feet, back resting on the ropes and on display for all to see and laugh at Miley’s actions.

“Maybe that will shut you the fuck up for once!” Miley shouted at her, Avril recoiling pathetically as she drooled around the thong. Miley tapped on her chin thoughtfully. “In fact, why risk it?” She spun around, clocking Avril right in the cheek. Her eyes crossed goofily for a moment before she collapsed to the mat, an unconscious rag doll in the ring.

The crowd shouted loudly, a bell ringing to mark Miley’s obvious victory. Miley panted to catch her breath from her beating and adrenaline rush, but smiled wide for her fans, blowing kisses and posing for photos. She eventually moved over to pose for them with a foot on Avril’s mostly nude body, victory poses for them.

“You know what? I couldn’t have done this beatdown without my fugly co-host. Let’s bring her out for some photos, huh? I’m sure the bitch would love this being on the cover of Teen Dream.” She lifted up Avril by an arm and her hair, even with her as pure dead weight able to handle the Canadian punk. She posed her like a rag doll she was, Avril exhausted and out cold as she made her wave to the fans. She had her stick her ass out, spanking herself with a limp wrist. She went on to grope herself, loose hands rubbing over her breasts and pussy with her cheap painted nails. Miley put her through another few inappropriate poses. She moved her mouth to make her talk about what a Canadian hoebag she was like a dummy. “You know what? Let’s let her give us a lesson! Looks like Avril just donated her body for science.”

Miley grabbed Avril by the thighs, lifting her up and landing her butt on top of the turnbuckle. She held her ankles, spreading them wide out before locked on the top ropes. “This, ladies and gents, is what a whore’s cunt looks like,” she explained, grinning widely. She ran her fingers over Avril’s koed cunt, fingernails tracing over her anatomy. “See how her clit’s all big and her pussy’s wet, even when she was humiliated and beaten just seconds ago? She’s aroused by any attention at all, so it’s no wonder she craves all this attention. She must stay wet from the gallons and gallons of cum she took inside her over the years. With a good eye, even you can tell a whore from a real girl just by these easy signs.” The crowd laughed loudly at her erotic and shameful show, finally letting go so that Avril fell backward, held upside down only by her legs trapped on the ropes and hanging like an effigy ragdoll.

In the end, finally content, Miley left the ring unassisted, fully clothed, and the moral and literal victor. Avril was left in the ring koed, drooling, barely a scrap of clothing on, and always remembered  as the aggressor to what became known as one of the biggest, worst beatdowns in celeb history, digging her own grave so to speak, even if Avril would later sometimes wish she could curl up and die instead of have to endure the ridicule she’d receive for her own big mouth

Demi vs Selina pt 2

((Strongbad Voice: "That was a TWO part episode))

The fight between Demi and Selina still seemed to linger in the air between the girls. Even when they were miles away from eachother, a sore muscle or even a random thought would bring on flashes of their fight. The stinging slap of their adversary, or a phantom sting in their scalp from where it was pulled would come along with it, or the memory of the smell of the other girl’s sweat intimately close to them.
It made their skin crawl, and blood boil. Their fathers could see it on them, their random expressions of rage or distaste when their minds wandered back to the fight. This in turn would stimulate Dave or Steve, reminding them of the arousing sight of the girls locked in their hateful combat. It was clear to them that the girls wouldn’t dare say anything about it, but they seemed just as eager to have a rematch as their fathers were to see it.
Demi was very eager to have another fight and get back at Selina. She had been more than willing to fight her from the beginning, but after her humiliating loss in front of their parents, she was practically dying to have a chance to get some revenge on her.
Selina had won last time, but she still wanted to have another round with her. It was a thrill, and the sense of superiority she got from their fight was amazing. She was confident in her victory if it ever came up again, and it made her edgy wanting to prove it again.
Their fathers shared this idea by private emails, agreeing to set this up without the girls aware. As such, Selina had no objection or reason to be suspicious when her father Steven asked her to come with him to a small get together in the next town over. She would have been suspicious of Demi’s house, but they had recently moved and she was none the wiser who the owner was.
“I know you’ve had a lot on your mind,” Steven told her as he locked the car and walked her to the door, knocking. “So I’m hoping this will help you clear your head a bit from all that.”
"Thank you, daddy," she smiled at him genuinely. She wore a short skirt and a red halter top, secretly skipping the bra for this alleged party.
Dave answered the door, smiling at the sight of the Gomez family. Selina's face faltered for a moment, starting to recognize the father of her rival. She didn't even get that far, as Demi trotted down the stairs in a skirt, black top, and bare feet, halting halfway down. Their eyes met, quickly turning into glares as they registered the other.

"You!?" both girls exclaimed, Demi gripping the railing angrily while Selina reflexively tried to lunge at her from the doorway, but her father stood in the way and she bumped into his arm. The men got between their girls, but not enough to block their line of sight with eachother.

"Girls," Dave said firmly, calmly. "I know what you're thinking."

Selina hissed between her teeth and nodded. "Yea, I'm sorry, dady," she said, bitter but remorseful. "I know you don't want me fighting again."

"I didn't say that," Dave added warily. Steven smirked a bit and met his gaze briefly. "Do you think I'd invite them over when I was there last time this happened?"

The girls thought this over a minute as Steven went on. "You girls have been sweating over your last fight ever since it happened. Don’t think we haven’t realized it.” He put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “So what do you think is the best solution to get this whole confrontation off your minds and out of your systems?”
The girls scowled at eachother, the glare almost unbroken between them as Demi replied. “To kick her ass and prove she’s not all that.”
Demi scoffed. “Oh like you could! The only reason I haven’t come back for seconds in kicking your ass is because I didn’t want to make daddy mad.” She looked over to David. “But if he’s saying it’s ok…”
David motioned towards the door by the stairs in an overly formal wave. “The basement’s already made ready for your rematch, girls. Shall we go?”
Selena nodded sharply. “Definitely.”
“I’m game,” Demi added, and the girls were led downstairs, though with the adults one either side of the combatants to make sure they didn’t start too soon or just jump the other. The basement was set up much like last time; the seats and couches were pushed into an elementary square shape, two of the easy chairs set aside for now to create an opening for the families to get inside. The girls went in, taking a place standing on either side of the carpeted area as their parents pulled the chairs into place behind them, sitting on opposite couches behind their girls.
Selena kicked off her shoes, leaving herself barefoot, and thus almost identically dressed to Demi, apart from the colors of their attire. Miniskirts and halter tops were their battle armor as they stretched in their corners, their fathers sharing a brief and knowing pair of smiles in that the setup of the match went so smoothly. Even if it was their scheme to arrange their second fight for their amusement, there was truth to much of what they’d said. The girls were indeed ready to take eachother on, eager for revenge or further validation of their supremacy.


“Ok, the fight’s over when one of your gives up or can’t continue.” Steven explained. “Agreed?” Both girls nodded.
“Perfect. Then let’s get to it, girls!” Dave raised his voice to cue them to start. The girls took a few testing paces at eachother, a mockery of boxers or pro fighters sizing eachother up, but clearly lacking any of the training or experience that would make it genuinely worth much beyond getting their foe’s general rhythm. Even this was quickly abandoned as Selena reached out to land a slap across Demi’s face, snapping her head back. Demi rubbed her cheek with her forearm, leaning over before swinging her other hand out to smack Selena back with a vengeance. It knocked her silly for a moment, stumbling and losing her footing a moment.
She barely managed to recover before Demi grabbed her by the hair, pulling back on it to force Selena back upright, back arching and her unprotected breasts pushing out against the inside of her shirt. She screamed out as her long dark hair was ripped backward, a handle for her head used to hold her in place as Demi unleashed slaps at her face, stinging and reddening her cheeks but hurting more than doing any genuine damage to her.
Selena snarled and swung up her leg, a quick knee in the stomach cutting off Demi’s attack. Demi let out a grunt and doubled up a bit, holding her stomach as Selena charged into her, tackling her to the rug. Demi lost her grip on her hair, but the charge made her take a few strands of hair with her, a near inaudible snap over the screaming that stung Selena’s scalp.
The girls tumbled over the ground, their fathers casting mild shadows over the girls as they rolled around on the carpet, thrashing against eachother wildly. They were clearly inexperienced as there was more flailing than there was actual hitting, but Selena got a grip on Demi’s hair, sinking her fingers deep into her locks and twisting her body to one side suddenly, ripping Demi off of her and slamming her down onto her stomach. The wind was knocked out of her briefly, sucking the air back into her lungs just before Selena mounted her back, grabbing her hair and pulling back viciously.
Her skirt rode up her hips as she straddled Demi from behind, lifting her face up to show David the pained and angry expression on his daughter’s face. Selena shook Demi’s head by her grip, extracting her revenge on her hated foe.
“Gotcha now, skank!” she laughed, stopping the shaking to let go with one hand and reach back, grabbing and forcing up Demi’s skirt, baring her pink panties to Steve before she started to smack on Demi’s ass, spanking her loudly. Demi squealed and kicked around, her cheeks wobbling under Selena’s punishment. Demi’s resistance was like a miniature tantrum, but Selena’s grip only had one hand at this point. Demi bucked up backward, shoving off the carpet and toppling Selena off onto the mat, rubbing her ass tenderly while Selena fought to figure which way was up again.
Demi scrambled wildly after Selena, crawling on all fours before she grabbed Selena’s wrists and pinned them to the ground, throwing out her legs to fully brace her body against hers, piece to piece mirroring eachothers young bodies.
“Who’s got who now, tramp!” crowed Demi, lifting her body up and slamming it back down on top of Selena, a hump-like slam that rattled Selena beneath her. It winded her long enough for Demi to crawl up and sit her ass on top of Selena’s stomach. She leaned over her, breasts hanging over her face as she rose up again and dropped her butt down on top of Selena’s belly, making her try to double up as the wind was slammed out of her. Of course Demi’s position stopped that move right away, Demi grabbing her hair and shoving her head back down to the rug and flat on her back. Her chest heaved as she tried to recover her breath and cope with her situation. Demi held her head down by the hair, sticking it to the rug by her nails as she started to slap Selena quickly as she can with her free hand.
The fathers smiled and drank in the scene of Selena’s viciously crude attack, even David having to smile as he saw his daughter being pummeled by her loudly cracking hand slaps. It largely surprised them when Demi, screaming and thrashing under Selena, started to reach up and grab her attacker by the chest, twisting her fingers to grope for and then pinch hard down on her nipples. Even with no bra on, Selena shrieked as her nipples were tweaked with her opponent’s nails, pulling and clawing at her chest. Selena grabbed Demi’s wrists, trying to stop her and wrench her grip off of her rack.
The men cheered on the turn of events, even going up a tone as Demi lost her grip on her opponent’s hard little nipples, but kept a grip on her bosom as she swung her off of her, holding her by the chest as a handle. When Selena landed on her side, Demi shifted her weight over to bash a knee into Selena’s belly, making her jump and shudder from the blow. Demi threw herself on top of her opponent, facing her feet and reaching down to grab one of her legs and pull it up towards her chest, hugging it to her chest and twisting Selena’s toes between her fingers.
The delicate appendages bent, a tormenting grip that made Selena squirm and scream beneath her, shocked by the pain in her tender feet. It was painful, but mostly humiliating, hurting in the way a noogie or an especially rough tickling would. Demi still was amused by her suffering and cackled as she rode her back like a rodeo queen for several seconds. Selena reached back and flailed for her wildly, unable to reach her at her awkward angle.
However, Demi wasn’t counting on her other leg, which swung up by chance and caught her in the chin. It sent her stumbling off awkwardly, getting a surprised “ooh!” of sympathy pain from the onlooking fathers.
Demi was dazed while Selena was sore and angry, scrambling after her in a hazy huff and lashing out at Selena and grabbing hold of her chest, Demi squealing in surprise as her claws raked over her breasts through her shirt. Selena cried out as she was paid back for her own earlier breast attack, shaking her head to bring her wits back as her hair whipped around.   She lashed out and gave a strong, stinging slap to Demi’s face. It toppled her back to the carpet, where Selena stumbled up to her knees and crawled after her on all fours, straddling her once again stunned opponent.
Selena turned and quickly dropped her pantied ass on top of Demi’s face, forcing a weakened squeak and rolled slightly underneath her opponent. Selena was panting herself and starting to sweat, but she grinned maliciously, as Demi couldn’t be in much better shape. The only difference was she was on top.
She waved with one hand to her father, winking at him in a way that acknowledged it was a show for their parents, and Demi was about to become the main attraction. She grabbed Demi’s skirt with both hands, ripping them in separate directions to tear up her skirt down the front, exposing her panties fully to the adults looking on. Demi squealed out beneath her ass, kicking and writhing but Demi got a grip on her panties’ waistband, using her thrashing to her advantage as she pulled up, effectively letting Demi wiggle out of them with her own struggling. At last Selena held the trophy up over her head, twirling Demi’s pink panties on her finger in a mock-stripper motion.
“Here you go, Daddy,” she chimed merrily, throwing them to Steve. He caught them neatly in the air, smirking at the scene as Demi tried to cross her legs awkwardly, trying to cover her shamefully bare ass and pussy from the parents.
“Oh come on,” Selena crowed proudly. “Open wide, Demi sweety. Let everyone see that sluthole of yours!” She leaned forward, grabbing at Demi’s thighs and spreading them out. Of course, she wasn’t counting on a few things. Her ego was doing most of the thinking right now, Demi utterly trapped and breathless underneath her. Of course, Demi was able to breathe, especially while Selena was leaning forward to mess with her skirt and panties. She hadn’t expected that Demi had also been looking more into wrestling since their last fight, watching kids at her school wrestling and practicing with her friends in play (but genuinely technical) fights. Selena also didn’t consider just how close she was to Demi’s legs.
This was her chance, as Demi arched her back and bucked with her whole body. She bounced Selena forward, yelping as she landed between Demi’s bared legs. She quickly clamped them around her head, sweaty and smooth thighs clenching around her head and flexing to wrap around her neck. Selena screamed out at first, stopping this quickly so that she could manage her strength and her breath easier. But Demi had caught her, and was turning the tables fast. Selena clawed at her naked legs, but Demi clenched her jaw and twisted her legs on tighter, Selena’s squirming visible growing weaker as she maintained the hold.
Selena started to beat her fists on Demi’s knees, finally getting her to release as she swung her body to one side, flopping Selena messily with them. Selena flopped onto her back, grunting as she hit her head on the ground, the carpet soft but still stunning her further. Demi, more embarrassed and tired than hurt by this point, crawled after her. Selena brought up her hands, locking fingers with Demi clumsily, but her aggressor overpowered her quickly. She brought one hand to her hair, shaking Selena’s head by her grip.
Selena screamed out shrilly in pain, her scalp screaming and finding it hard to muster the power to fight back in her current state of exhaustion. Demi shot a quick jab into her breasts, wobbling under her shirt without a bra to contain them. Content with that, Demi sat up off of her a few inches, just to bring her butt slamming down onto Selena’s stomach. She huffed as more precious air left her, trying to hold her belly but Demi repeating the move, her tight naked ass a pump that smacked into Selena’s bare midriff and worked the air awkwardly from her body.
“That all you got, princess?” Demi mocked her in a weary grunt. “Oh wait. I know one more thing you’ve got down there.” Selena had a murky, weary expression as she tried to beg Demi to stop, but she grabbed her by the legs, lifting them as she stood up. She used her bare toes to hook on Selena’s panties, pulling them up enough until she could grab and rip the off of her.
Both girls were left essentially bottomless, but Demi held all the cards as she spread her foe’s legs, baring her whole pussy, bush, lips and all to the ogling fathers who did their best to hide their powerful erections.
“Payback’s a bitch, huh?” she goaded, Selena a bright red that went down her face and over her chest. She flailed like a rag doll at her, but couldn’t do a thing to stop her as Demi grinned at her, spreading her legs painfully far apart and stepping aside so the men had a full view of her, stopping to slam her rump down on Selena’s belly again to keep her down while they enjoyed the show, still holding her feet in hand to torment her.
Selena’s eyes watered in shame and pain as she suffered before her parents, finally slapping her hand on the ground. Steven leaned forward, curiously. “What is it, Selena?” he pried, the whimpering Selena pouting briefly before calling out. “I give! I surrender!” she wailed, too shamed and pained to go on.
Steven clapped his hands sharply. “That’s enough! Demi, she’s done.”
Demi grinned and gave a quick stomp to Selena’s belly before gripping her ankles, giving one last tug in either direction to wishbone her.
“Demi,” David urged lowly, Demi smiling proud and cute even in her exhaustion and going back to her father, if not with a bit of a limp and a stagger to her step. Selena whimpered on the ground, curled up beaten and weary as her father knelt by her, helping her back up. He snuck a smile to David as he did.
“Thanks for the fight, Mr. Gomez,” Demi said with a smile.
“Yea,” David smiled to them. “See you next time…”

Demi Lovato vs Selina Gomez

David Lovato had his hand on his daughter’s shoulder, coolly hiding his smile behind his face. He guided her down the stairs to their basement, a lightly furnished and carpeted area of the house. It had a wide area of empty carpet in the middle, an area Demi remembered being essentially reserved for her playing when she was younger.

“This is a surprise?” Demi smirked back at him sarcastically, seeing nothing out of place. She wore a violet halter top and a skirt that was shorter than most fathers would appreciate, but David made no objection. He knew that his girl was growing up and would want to wear things like that, and her father had mind enough to be able to appreciate his daughter’s beauty. Especially in a scene like this…

“Not yet,” David chuckled. “They’ll be here any second.”
His daughter grinned up at him, walking over and flopping into a seat facing the basement stairs. “They? Several surprises?” she goaded, but her father just continued his small steady smile. Demi tried relaxing in the chair as best she could, but she was anxious for what her present may be.

But present was perhaps the wrong word, depending on her exact perspective on the case. Even she wasn’t certain on her outlook when they came down the stairs. She heard the door open, followed by footsteps and another father-daughter pair climbing down into view. A tall, clean shaven man she recognized as Steven Gomez, wearing an outfit matching Demi’s, but this was only noticeable in association. She immediately recognized Selina Gomez beside him, and she all but leapt out of her seat at the sight.

“YOU!” Demi snarled at her, Selina recognizing her as well (as indicated by the matching or stronger fury in her eyes). Steven readily grabbed his daughter’s arm, halting her vicious charge as she clawed and grabbed at the air trying to reach her hated rival. David similar put a heavy arm in front of his daughter’s chest, barricading her from trying to attack Demi. It was clear that she wished to, but did not try to evade her father’s arm.

“Just a minute,” Steven urged quietly but firmly. “We arranged it to be like this.”
“What!?” both girls blurted, and David motioned for them to calm.
“We know what you two have been up to with each other. The pranks, the rumors, the non-stop arguing… we’re going to put a stop to it.”

“But she put garbage in my locker!” Demi objected, throwing up her hands.
“That’s because you wrote ‘slut’ all over mine!” Selina responded.
“Sure, once you stole my clean underwear while I was changing.”
“After you tried to put gum in my hair!”
“But you spread those nasty rumors about me!”
“I told you that wasn’t me!”
“Bullshit!”

“My point,” David cut in. “Is this needs to end. There has to be a climax to all this or you’ll just keep getting more and more built up until one of you just kills the other.” The girls hadn’t seen it going that far, and even Steven thought that was a bit much. Frankly, the men were looking for an excuse to match up their girls. They both found the girls attractive and had a major fetish for catfights. This feud was just the reason they needed.

“You two aren’t leaving here until you settle this,”  Steve said calmly. “So either you both apologize and leave it at that…” The girls glared daggers at each other and started objecting loudly and immediately. Just as the fathers had hoped. “Or you two are going to stay down here and fight it out. We’ll have to watch to make sure you too don’t take it too far, and as witnesses to prove who wins and remind you two whenever it may come up. Sound fair?”

The girls glared at each other. “I’m not scared,” huffed Demi proudly.
Selena shrugged callously. “I’d be glad to put that bitch in her place.”
“I’ll crush you, skank!” Demi called back. The girls were choking at the bit, clearly about ready to tear their way from their fathers’ grasps.

“I take that as an agreement to a match,” David chuckled, raising an eyebrow to Selena’s father.
“Same here,” Steven grinned.
“YES, already!” Selena yelled angrily. “I’m going to get this twat for everything she’s done to me!”
“Bring it, skank!”
Dave and Steve exchanged a curt nod and released their girl into a charge at each other. The girls shoves out their hands at each other, shoving and swinging with them without so much as slowing their advance. It was quickly made clear as the girls clashed that hteir fighting wouldn’t be much in terms of skill. The girls were still young, and not experienced fighters, let alone having any real training. Even if it were available to them, these skills would just as likely be cast aside by their demanding tempers being left at a maximum boil by their fathers encouraging the hatred they showed for each other.

Demi and Selena’s bodies pressed into each other, both girls grunting on impact and their young chests grinding as they started to shove and slap wildly at one another, a frenzy of limbs just wishing to strike the other girl for their own gratification more than intent on long-term damage or genuine victory. It was just their mad desire to just HIT the other that made them swing and shove wildly, the girls quickly losing their footing and hitting the carpet in a tangle. Demi wound up on top by coincidence of Selena losing her balance first, so she grabbed one of Selena’s wrists, holding it to the carpet and bringing up an elbow to stop Selena’s slap short. She filled the gap in her attacks with a barrage of back and forth slaps with her free hand, pelting Selena’s face to and fro.

Selena grabbed up at her attacking rival, groping dizzily a few times (with her head flying back and forth, hair whipping around her head). She finally snagged a handful of Demi’s hair, tugging to one side. Demi shrieked quickly, staggering and losing her grip on Selena’s wrist as she stumbled off while staying in contact with Selena.

“My hair!” Demi cried out angrily, clawing at Selena’s wrist to try and untangle her digits from her dark locks. Selena shoved her other hand into her hair, just securing her grip and pulling Demi to one side. She was dragged over her knees on the carpet, taking a light rug burn as Selena swung her by her hair, banging her head into the arm of the couch. It was pretty heavily padded, but still rattled Demi’s brains, her eyes out of focus as she bounced off the couch and flat onto her back.

Selena went after her, crawling over on her hands and knees as their fathers took their places on either side of the room in comfortable armchairs. Selena took a short hop towards Demi, her skirt flipping up in the air a moment before her pantied butt slammed down on top of Demi’s belly. The lower girl huffed and tried to grab the region of her belly button in pain, but Selena’s legs and buttocks obviously kept them at bay.

Realizing this, and that Selena was laughing confidently and bouncing her butt on her sore belly, Demi winced and reached upward with her hands. She grabbed at Selena’s legs, raking her nails down them in a quick claw that got a shriek of surprised pain, kicking at Demi’s arms but only really enabling her to get some more scratches in. Selena finally scooted back on her butt, yanking herself upright and catching her breath noisily. Demi did much of the same, holding her flat tummy and breathing deep to try and recover from the initial damage of the fight so far.

“Look what you did!” Selena demanded, lifting her skirt just a bit. It was short enough to not require this to show off the scratched Demi had left on her thighs and calf regions, shallow but bold red lines over her slim sexy legs.

“You sat on my stomach with that fat ass!” Demi snapped back. “It didn’t hurt as much as it grossed me out! I could feel your gross fatty sweat, and all your butt blubber jiggle when it touched me,” she grimaced.

Selena heard the parents chuckle at this, which made her face go red with embarrassment and anger. “I’ll kill you!” she snapped angrily, charging with her with her hands outstretched. She clawed for Demi, who plowed between her hands and slammed grabbed Selena by the hair. Selena whipped her hands up and did the same, both girls yanking viciously at the other’s dark hair. They spit curses and wordless hate at each other as they tore at their lovely locks, shoving each other stumbling paces one way or another. Selena brought her hand up to start smacking at the top of Demi’s head and shoulders.

She ignored the blows, only really frustrating her to pull harder. She managed to get Selena off balance and swing her to bang her into the ball, back connecting first and rattling her opponent. Demi held her up straight by her hair as if trying to lift her off the carpet, forcing Selena to reach up and grab at her wrists to minimize the pain. With her hands up, Demi grinned at the appetizing opening and unleashed a quick punch into Selena’s belly. It hit with a slap on the flat flesh, making Selena shake and moan. It was rewarding enough for Demi to repeat it two more, Selena finally catching on and recovering enough to swing both fists down onto Demi’s shoulders. She cried out and backed away, but Selena balanced herself on the wall with her hands, growled angrily, and kicked out hard with one foot to her chest. Demi huffed loudly and fell backward, stumbling and landing back on her butt.

Selena rubbed her belly a second before rushing at her again, tackling into the downed girl. Rather than knocking her flat, she wrapped an arm around Demi’s head, grabbing her in a headlock and squeezing down on her. Demi thrashed in her grip, slapping at Selena’s arms and sides to try and wriggle free. The simple hold held strong, and Demi’s face grew redder between the pressure and the embarrassment of both of their fathers watching her struggle with the stranglehold.

She managed to shove back her elbow into Selena’s side, making her grunt and jolt. Her grip loosened enough for Demi to wriggle loose and lash out at Selena, grabbing hold of her top and shoving her down to the floor. Selena grunted as her back smacked into the carpet, stunned as Demi twisted to straddle her stomach.

“Gotcha, bitch!” she crowed, holding her steady by the shoulder strap of her halter top, steadying her while Demi unleashes a sharp slap across Selena’s face, then another and then a barrage of punishing slaps. She beat Selena’s cheeks read, her downed opponent shrieking in rage and pain as she kicked up her legs at her. Demi shifted to wrap her legs around Selena’s, trapping them down. It more notably, to the fathers, made her skirt ride up and reveal her sky blue panties hugging her tensed buttocks.

Selena took all she could stand (and then some) of the slaps. “Fucking skank! Off!” she demanded in an outrage, reaching up and clawing at Demi’s face with a vengeance. Her fingers raked at her eyes, making Demi scream in surprise and hold her eyes as they started to water.

She was wide open for Selena reaching up and grabbing her hair, pulling and shaking at her head. Demi screamed a bit before Selena pulled down on her sharply, bringing her crashing down into her as Selena rose up. There was a quick thump and an “oooh” from the fathers as Selena smacked her foe with a sharp head butt, both girls looking a bit dazed but Demi clearly taking the brunt of the attack, totally unprepared as she stumbled back and fell off of Selena.

This had mixed results, as she was still holding onto Selena’s shoulder strap. She yanked back as she fell, trying to steady herself but merely ripping the top of the garment. It bared her shoulder. Selena gasping a moment as she became more exposed, her shoulder and the top of her off-center bra visible to their fathers.

Selena still rallied herself, forgetting her exposed skin for now and went after Demi
again. She was still rattled from the shock to the head, and Selena stood over her and kicked her in the belly while she was down. Demi’s body twitched and she involuntarily coughed out a lungful of air, holding her stomach and curling up a bit more on the rug.

Selena stood over her, catching her breath a moment as Demi held her belly. “That’s for slapping me silly, tramp!” she snapped bitterly, sending another quick stomp of her slender leg onto Demi’s side. She groaned and curled up, but Selena yanked her hands and legs away from her stomach, Demi too weak at the moment to resist.

“Oh your tummy hurts? Let me rub it out for you!” Selena grabbed Demi’s shirt, yanking it up and exposing her entire midsection. She pulled it up until it tangled up on Demi’s arms, showing her pink bra and her sore stomach. Demi was left blinded and wriggling in the entrapping clothes while Selena made good on her threat, swinging her hands in a rapid rain of slaps onto Demi’s stomach. She screamed out in agony as Selena gave her a painful pinkbelly, her stomach rapidly growing a bright, sore red shade. Each slap just hurt more as her belly grew more tender. The slaps just made it all the worse when Selena swung a fist down on her beaten gut.

Demi screamed out as the hard blow hit her soft stomach, spasming around like a docked fish. It was only with this flailing that she managed to get out of the trap of her top, shedding the garment but just stuck in her bra and skirt. She panicked and tried to cover up her cleavage, She shoved and clawed at Selena, trying to get away from her long enough to buy some time and turn the fight around.

Selena just grabbed her ankle as she kicked at her, dragging her back towards the middle of the rug. She kicked at the inside of Demi’s thigh, stinging her leg muscles as Demi grunted at the blows. Her raised leg exposed her panties once more, both to Selena and the eagerly watching fathers.

“Now you’ve got her,” Steven encouraged her as Demi wailed out miserably, trapped in her opponent’s grasp. Selena grinned over her shoulder, seeming to register that the upper hand was not only hers, but she had an audience. She grabbed for Demi’s other leg, which kicked at her a few times but landed minor blunt hits to her chest before she grabbed it. Selena raised both of Demi’s legs, her panties hugging her butt cheeks as Selena started to spread her legs, almost spread eagle as she cried out from the strain of her thigh muscles. She grabbed at her inner thigh, trying to push herself free and minimize the pain but she couldn’t stop Selena’s field day of pain inflicted on her legs.

But she wasn’t stopping there. She raised her foot and stamped her sole down onto Demi’s crotch. It wasn’t a hard blow, with Selena off balance with the attack, but it still gave a shock that forced a heavy grunt out of Demi, still not having fully regained her breath from the body blows. Demi’s hands went to her pantied groin, clutching it tenderly with both hands.

“You started all this, I know it!” Selena hissed through a toothy grin. “And I’m gonna make you regret ever thinking of messing with me like that.” She grinded her heel into Demi’s crotch, an odd mix of pressure, pain, and vague arousal as her hated rival’s foot shook against her pussy. She moaned and shivered before Selena took a short hop up, then dropped her elbow onto her groin. Even with Demi’s legs released, they flew up in the air at the impact, Demi letting out a long shout of pain and misery as she clawed the carpet, unable to mount any further defense after all the grappling, slapping, and now the groin punishment.

It still wouldn’t stop her. Selena was set on punishing and shaming her further. She stepped back and watched Demi squirm on the ground, making sure she was out of the fight. Even her father saw from the other end of the room that she was no threat in her current condition.

It left her easy pickings for Selena, as she stepped over her opponent. She kicked Demi’s feet, knocking her legs apart and spreading her wide, leaving a camel toe showing to her father Steven. He had to grin in satisfaction at the way the fight was going, David couldn’t help but move around the outside of the carpet, giving the girls their space but kneeling down by Steve to share his view of the fight.

With her legs spread wide on view, Demi was even then barely conscious of it in all her soreness. Selena proudly flipped her skirt up a bit, flashing her own violet panties before planting her buttocks down on top of Selena’s face. She settled herself there comfortably, Demi’s face forced to be her throne as Demi had to breathe in her feminine musk from her groin and thighs.

Selena smiled smugly to the parents. “Dad, Mr. Lovato? You may wanna watch this one,” she teased. She hooked her thumbs under the hips of Demi’s panties, teasingly wiggling her underwear down her legs. It only hooked on her ankles a moment before Selena snapped them off her entirely, wadding them up and stuffing them into the cleavage of her bra (made easily accessible from her torn shirt).

Demi feels the soft movement of fresh air on her vag, blushing horribly as she realizes her predicament. She shoves fruitlessly at Selena’s back, her hairless pussy now on display for her own father and her rival’s. Selena held her legs open, grinning and slapping her labia lightly in a teasing way. “Thought you could air out that smelly thing. And I’m sure our papas loves the show.”

Selena patted her cleavage with the stolen panties inside. “And hope you don’t mind if I keep these as a souvenir of my win.” Demi managed to free her face from Selena’s ass, whimpering miserably. “It IS my win, isn’t it, Daddy?” Selena asked, batting her eyes at him. Even with her reddened and tired face, sweaty body, and torn clothes, he thought his girl looked as cute and sexy as ever, and his groin certainly agreed.

“Oh, definitely,” David insisted, grinning widely even as his daughter was crushed under her opponent’s butt and bottomless, skirt raised and pussy exposed to him. Demi’s eyes were watering with tears, humiliated and miserable with pain and defeat.

Selena ran her fingernails gently over Demi’s pussy. “I won. Say it!” she commanded.

She felt Demi’s face tap against her buttocks. “You win! You win! Just let me up! Give me back my panties!”
“Alright, but I’m keep these. Just be lucky I let you keep the skirt and don‘t make you take your walk of shame home in the nude!”

Selena got off Demi at last, running over and hugging her father proudly. “That’s my girl,” he encouraged, patting her back and kissing her. David got up and went to his daughter as she wiped her tears off and tended to her scratches and aching muscles.

“I’ll get you for this!” Demi grumbled, blushing and miserable looking.
“Not today,” David insisted, taking her shoulder and moving her towards the stairs leading up to the door. “Or at school, or at a photo shoot, or anything. It’s officially settled. If you want another shot, you’ll go through me and Steve and we’ll work out an official meeting for a rematch.”

Selena put her hands proudly on her hips and smiled. “As if I won’t just beat your fat ass again, loser,” she said, sticking out her tongue.

Kristen Stewart vs Emma Stone

Kristen washed her hands and did her hair as she wrapped up in the little girl’s room. The awards show was fairly small time, some teen choice award or another. She had a nomination for Twilight, naturally, and Kristen fussed with her hair again. She wondered when it would be her turn to step beyond that and make a splash on her own rather than ride the franchise. Emma Watson seemed to have taken off since she last saw her, but she had a fair notion that it was due to her decisive win over Kristen in their last match.

She shook off that memory. She was recovered, mentally over it, for the most part. She still felt a lingering insecurity over her humiliation and pain from the fight. She’d even started doing some light working out, though didn’t stick to it especially well. She adjusted her white dress, showing off a tasteful bit of cleavage.

In the time she spent fussing over herself, Emma Stone wandered in. Kristen gave a brief, dismissive glance, a hint of a sneer on her lips. Emma gave her a sarcastic look in reply, unimpressed and slightly annoyed with her. It was a dismissive look given to a noisy little dog. Maybe a harmless but offensive insect.

It was painfully clear what Emma thought of her just from that, though Emma smirked as she decided it could stand to be a bit more painful still. “How’s it going, failure face?” Emma pried. “Wash that shame off at last?”

Kristen blushed and frowned at this,  trying to ignore her and turn away. “Nothing like that,” she excused meekly. “Just waitin for my call for the Best Summer Movie award.”

Emma nodded. “Oh yea. I’d keep your ears open for that one. I heard they nominated a real turd bomb for  the winner.” Kristen got a bit redder while Emma started putting on some fresh lipstick. Emma smacked her lips and grinned at her proudly. “Oh, I’m sure it isn’t YOURS. I’ve heard how much you are against winning anything.”

Kristen sucked in a breath, angry but too meek to take any real action. “It has a chance,” she muttered.

“Yea, I guess so,” Emma conceded, grinning wider and toothier. “For how much dick you must have sucked to get to where you are with talent like that.” It was no longer hidden backhand comments, she was dedicated to her mockery now. “I mean, I can act my way out of a paper bag, so it might not be so easy to see on your perspective.”

Kristen was bright red, avoiding not only Emma’s eyes but the mirror, not wanting to have to see her own face right now. There was only so much her pride could take, and she just wanted to walk away. Emma was between her and the door, and she stepped back from the sink to ensure that she was making leaving for her all but impossible.

“What’s the matter?” Emma smirked. “Feeling a little uncomfortable? Can understand, you’re in my presence. Better, stronger, cooler, more talented, more popular… yea, I can see that making sense.”

“Shhhhut up!” Kristen hissed out at last. Emma smiled back at her, hand on her hip confidently. She feigned offense, but her smile beaming behind her lips. Kristen was playing into her hands at this point, boiling over just as she’d wanted. She wanted to prove her superiority over her, confirming what she knew and wanted to make more than clear to Kristen. There were a few girls she wanted to remind of this, but Kristen’s meek nature, awkward personality, and yet successful career and quietly irksome nature made her favorite target for to start on. “God, can’t I even go to the bathroom in peace without being bugged by the girl they called “the Mary Jane from Spider-Man reject.”

“Wow, impressive. No talent or sense of perception either.”

Emma’s heartbeat was rising fast, her face growing red and freshly painted lips dropping open at Kristen’s backtalk. “Listen, you pasty emo twat! You land one good role and you think you’re even in the same league as me?”

“Watch it, Red!” Kristen fumed back. “I’ve been stressed out these last few weeks, and smiling for the cameras all the while like it’s nothing. That’s shit’s been building up for days, so if you wanna open the floodgates now, you’re REALLY gonna be in for it!” The stress of keeping her career afloat beyond “that Twilight chick” on top of her lingering loss had her pent up, though she started to feel just a bit better from venting it out.

 “I’d watch your choice of words, little girl. I heard from a reliable source that you don’t do well against Emmas. It’s not like you’re a real actress or anything anyway.”

Kristen sneered at her. “What’s your peak movie again? The one where you played a gigantic slut? That must’ve been a real challenge. What’d you do, run out to the backalley by your house and get some method acting done?”

Emma’s temper quickly peaked, and she swung a hard slap across Kristen’s face. Her face recentered, scowling at Emma furiously. She slapped Emma back, her red hair a streaking comet’s tail behind her head. Kristen tried to swing her other hand for a second slap, but Emma caught it by the inside of her elbow and swung a hard fist up into Kristen’s belly, socking the wind out of her suddenly.

“That all you got? You fight like you act,” Emma scoffed.

Kristen coughed some air into her lungs and doubled over, wincing up at her hated foe. “Shut UP,” she fumed, suddenly rushing forward and slamming her shoulder into Emma’s abdomen, shoving her backward and slamming into a wall. Emma grunted as they clashed into wall, her back the first to connect with it. Kristen tried to swing at her, but they were too close for her to get much momentum to them, harmlessly slapping at Emma’s sides and chest.

Emma raised her knee between them, shoving her leg outward and forcing Kristen to stumble back a few paces. “You wanna go, sister?” Emma grunted angrily, grinning slightly at the thrilling fulfillment of her wish to school Kristen outright.

“I want nothing more right now than to shut your whore mouth with my bare hands,” Kristen replied.   She lunged at Emma but only got a kick to the stomach for her troubles. Kristen doubled up, holding her stomach when Emma took her by the hair and whipped her to one side, Kristen staggering until her shoulder hit a stall door. She winced and held her shoulder, only for Emma to follow up with a wide-arcing slap.

Karen ‘s heels slid on the tile of the bathroom floor, tumbling over and landing on her side. The floor wasn’t as dirty as most bathrooms, being scrubbed ready for the stars backstage, but it wasn’t much of a saving grace for the embarrassed Kristen. The Twilight star kicked at Emma’s legs when she went after her, the redhead stumbling but able to angle herself to crash down on top of Kristen, winding her again. Kristen moaned and held her stomach, but it was hard to accomplish with Emma on top of her, and only left her open for Emma’s follow up.

Emma reached down and took hold of Kristen’s chest, twisting and clawing as Kristen found enough wind to scream out in pain. She writhed and swung her arms up at Emma, but wasn’t able to inflict any real damage, only shaking her position and lightly rolling with Emma still on top, still mauling her chest between her fingernails.

Kristen managed to shove hard at last, knocking Emma onto her ass. She scrambled to regain her footing, Emma instinctively reaching down to try and tug down the hem of her dress to minimize the upskirt view. Kristen winced and cradled her chest a bit, then started to scrambled towards the stalls on all fours. She crawled under the door of one of the smaller stalls, breathing heavy and pushing her dark hair from her face. A direct fight was not going well for her so far. Her dress was disheveled and a bit torn where Emma had scratched her chest, which still ached. She had to fight smart, she thought, using her environment to her advantage. Hiding out for a few seconds to regroup and get her bearings inside the stall would help her get her edge back and turn things around.

It was what she told herself, leaning one arm against the toilet seat to stay sitting up, when Emma shoved open the door in pursuit. It swung in and banged against Kristen’s head, making her cry out and grab her forehead, leaning most of her upper back over the toilet seat. Emma looked confused at her a minute, actually not even meaning to use the door against her, just expecting her to be bright enough to be standing when she caught up with her.

“Aright, get up,” Emma goaded, actually staying a pace or two away as Kristen regained her wits a bit and stumbled upward. She actually was allowed to rise when Emma grabbed Kristen by the hair. She squealed out and staggered to her feet, suddenly kicking Emma in the knee after she’d “helped” her stand. Emma shouted and held her knee, biting her lip from the shocking pain when Kristen grabbed her red mess of hair and banged her head into the toilet paper dispenser. Emma’s head bounced off, holding her own head in reply as Kristen smile awkwardly, proud of her creative thinking.
Kristen stopped to reach back lock the door behind her, certain to not lose her advantage and let Emma slip from her grasp (not realizing it could damn herself just as easily). She lifted Kristen’s head for another slam down, but she brought her hand up to stop herself on the way down. It was a quick but awkward struggle in the confines of the bathroom stall, Kristen bumping the stall door shut again in the process before Emma elbowed her in the belly. Kristen huffed and fell backward, landing sitting on the toilet. Emma growled angrily, upset that Kristen nearly got lucky and blindsided her with her cheap shots, but she wasn’t going to let her slip away that easy. Now she’d make sure she was humiliated for trying to challenge her.

 She spread her legs wide and straddled Kristen’s lap, a position many young men would die for as it resembled something of a crude lap dance. Inversely, though, Kristen tried to pull herself out from under her, but Emma grabbed her hair to hold her steady as well as the weight of her sitting on her. She’d send several fast back and forth smacks across Kristen’s face, disorienting her.

Kristen raised both her hands in a desperate defensive guard, stopping Emma’s swings for a moment, but the redhead aggressor easily caught onto her shallow defense and reached between them, grabbing Kristen’s nose between her two knuckles and twisting it, Kristen wailing out in pain that came out as a nasal whine as Emma smiled at her bullying attack.

“Come on, pasty! Where’s that mouth on you now?” Emma goaded, well aware that she’d started the whole thing and still quite proud of the fact.

Kristen whimpered underneath her as Emma tweaked her nose painfully, grimacing in pain and humiliation at the childish move. The fight started to leave her quickly as Emma attacked her face and her morale, trapped and tormented under the redhead. Her face reddened with shame and pain, shoving desperately at Emma. Her hands only mashed into Emma’s chest, molding her breasts between her fingers but recoiling in surprised embarrassment.

Emma laughed as Kristen recoiled. “Thought you’d win this fight with a weak nerve like that? Better suck it up, pussy. Like THIS!”

Emma lashed out her hands and grabbed hold of Kristen’s tits, nails raking over them and squeezing hard on her chest. Kristen’s jugs molded out of shape under Emma’s invading fingers, milking screams out of her painted lips. Emma jerked her wrists side to side, rattling Kristen and tugging all the more painfully at her chest.

“AHHHHH! Stoooop already!” Kristen pleaded. “Enough, enough! Just stop!” Her entire body ached at this point, and she just wanted to crawl away with another defeat and as little pain as possible with her.

“I ain’t done with your slutty ass yet,  bitch,” Emma snapped back at her, yanking up on the cleavage line of Kristen’s dress. The top of her dress tore open, and her tits spilled out from her bra. Kristen gasped as her small pale jugs bounced out, arms scrambling to cover them up.
“Smart move,” Emma scoffed at her panicking foe. “If I had tits as crummy as those, I’d want to hide them from the world too. Not like I’m going to leave them looking any better, though!” Emma sunk a fist into Kristen’s left tit, mashing her nipple back into her small bosom, bashing more air from the Twilight teen’s lungs and further reddening her battered breast. She let it grind its way into the softness of her chest, then raised her other fist and whipped in a cross motion, striking her tit so that even the small lump of her breast wobbled on her chest, Kristen wincing as the tender orb bobbed around.
“Pathetic little things. Maybe if I do this a little more they’ll grow to something half-decent. Maybe then people will stop mistaking you for a boy once and for all.” Emma gloated loudly, Kristen blushing shamefully. She couldn’t be sure that someone didn’t overhear that, the only slight sign she was clear on that part being that nobody came in to help. Worse still, what if people were listening in and enjoying it all the more.
She didn’t have much time to contemplate that as Emma’s fists came shooting back down, more blows like her last where her knuckles smacked roughly across Kristen’s chest, working like high speed sculptors as they worked over Kristen’s bared tits. Kristen clawed at the tile floor screaming out in pain as Emma’s manual boob-job mashed her chest around, soon leaving them red and faintly bruising, the throbbing pain in Kristen’s chest sucking the fight from her, the air leaving her lungs only in screams of pain now. The pulsing pain promised bruising to come, and likely another weak of high-cut shirts to hide the damage done by another cruel Emma.

“AGGGH! Stop! Stop!!” she begged. “Stop it! I’m sorry!” She didn’t care who started it now, she just wanted to stop it.
“No way. You still need to be put in your place,” Emma grinned.
“I’m sorry! I’m the worse fighter! The worse actress! I’ve learned my lesson, just let me go!” she wailed out miserably.
“Not what I meant,” Emma smirked, sitting up off of her and staying on her knees in the cramped stall. “I know just where  a useless piece of shit like you belongs!”

Emma grabbed her by the hair and yanked the groaning Kristen to her own hands and knees. It looked to a casual observer that Kristen was ready to heave into the toilet and Emma was helping hold her hair back, but a far more sadistic than sisterly motion in truth. Kristen tried to clear the cobwebs and had just an instant to realize what was happening, gasping and trying to shout a protest, but Emma still dunked her face-first into the toilet’s water. Kristen flailed wildly, her muffled cries spitting up bubbles from the toilet water. It was a small blessing that it was freshly cleaned and flushed, but it was hardly any less humiliating for that. It wasn’t the top thing on Kristen’s mind as she choked on the water and flailed her arms at the toilet’s sides, barely slapping at Emma’s arms and doing little to nothing.

Emma laughed aloud at the scene. “There. Feels just like home, don’t it? Oh wait.” She pulled Kristen up, her hair soaking wet and eyes and mouth wide, gasping for air and coughing up water pathetically. “Feels like home, huh? From one shithole to another, right?” she spat at her, shoving Kristen’s face back down into the tainted waters. She choked and gurgled some more, but Emma was careful to leave the act humiliating and shocking, not fatal or truly brutal in terms of violence. It was all a game of shame afterall, not real rage or violence. It would feel pointless if she didn’t let Kristen live to remember this humiliation in the end.

After a few more dunks and permitted moments to breathe, she pulled Kristen out and tossed her back, Kristen’s wet hair and back hitting the stall door, leaving her on her ass up against it and coughing miserably, too weak to fight back or even talk back and beg properly. All she could manage was to raise her hands and wave one weakly at her, a muted plea for mercy.

“Nice try,” Emma grinned. “Not done just yet.” She laughed and patted Kristen’s cheek, or mimicked the motion but hard enough to let out several wet slaps that stung her cheek. “You’re just so damn fun to play with,” she said in a mock cutesy tone. She yanked Kristen up enough to turn her around to face the door, on her knees and her cheek pressed against the door and letting out a meek squeaking noise of wet flesh over smooth metal. “You dress enough like a whore, so let’s see you go all out on that!” Emma taunted the beaten and humiliated Kristen, barely even able to squirm at this point as Emma grabbed her dress and yanked down, tearing it in places and ripping her underwear and shoes off with it.

Kristen was nude and pressed up against the doorway when Emma reached back, yanking a long strand of toilet paper from the dispenser. She made some minor effort to crush it up in her hand at parts, making it somewhat thicker and denser before using it to bind Kristen’s wrists. The first layers stuck to her skin with the wetness of the toilet water, but the rest layered on normally as crude and frail ropes. Emma hoped it would work well enough, and sure enough, Kristen was too shamed, scared, and weak to break out of the layered on paper towels, leaving her wrists bound behind her back.

The wet Twilight gal was nude and roughly bound when Emma stood back up, admiring her handiwork and laughing. “Wow, such an impressive display. Never seen anything so weak and pathetic before. Have you?” Kristen groaned, shaking her head.
“Just… just let me gooooo,” she pleaded roughly, her voice scratchy from choking up water from her prior swirly. Not even in her school days had she ever experienced one, and suffering one now was just so much worse. Her words were cut off again when Emma grabbed her panties and shoved them into her mouth.
“That’s enough outta you. Your begging’s nice and all, but I wanna savor this moment.” Kristen heard a clicking noise, turning suddenly to see Emma had taken out her cel phone, snapping off pictures as Kristen gasped out through a mouthful of her own underwear. She wriggled in her bindings, but remained too weak and unfocused to put up much of a fight. Emma leaned this way and that, a huge shit-eating grin (ironic, given Kristen’s latest visit to the toilet) as she got Kristen’s shame from every angle. She even kicked her legs out from under her, leaving her face-down on the bathroom floor as Emma took a picture of her with her pale ass up in the air, legs apart to let Emma take a less-than tasteful shot of her pussy spread out.
“One more. One more with me… can you take this one for me?” she asked Kristen, laughing loudly at her own joke. “Oh never mind. I got it.” She held it up high, smiling proudly at her camera and making a mock “tough” face, lips pursed and flexing as she had her foot resting on Kristen’s ass like a proud huntress.

Kristen let out muffled objections, but Emma stuck her phone back into her pocket. “Relax. Nobody’ll see these. Not unless you start shit with me, Stewart. In fact, I’ll even leave you alone now. I’ve made my point, after all.”
She leaned down and took the panties out of Kristen’s mouth. “Didn’t I?” Emma said pointedly. Kristen jerked away a moment, then gulped.
“You’re stronger. You’re cooler. You’re the better actress. I’m just…” Emma smiled as Kristen fought with the words. “I’m just shit to you.”
Emma patted her wet head. “Good girl. For being so mature about it, I’ll even leave your gag out. That way you can call and beg for help for someone to let you out. Of course, that’ll mean they see your ugly naked ass out, so good luck with that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I had a little splash of water on me.” She stepped over the soaked, naked Kristen, unlocked the stall door, and shut it behind her, calmly washing her hands, fixing her hair, and winking to the mirror playfully before stepping back outside.

Kristen considered calling for help, but the beating alone was bad enough. She didn’t need a crowd or word to spread, assuming Emma would keep her word. She instead took a few minutes to rest, letting the occasional person come and go from the ladies’ room. She finally broke out of her bonds, salvaged her ruined dress as best she could, and slipped out of the bathroom quickly, if not clumsy and uneasy from her beatdown and exhaustion. Kristen had time to run back to her dressing room, getting a few odd stares for her odd dress but no one seeming quite the wiser as to what had happened behind closed doors. She ducked into her room and managed to call for a new dress, change, and fix up her hair in a hurry. When Twilight received its aware, no one was quite aware, as she wore a dress so cover her bruised chest and scratched up thighs and neck. However, she was meek, brief, and embarrassed. She was known to sometimes appear lax or awkward in public, but no one who saw her live or on tv could shake the idea that she looked ashamed somehow, embarrassed to even be seen and eager to hurry back off.

Emma Watson vs. Kristen Stewart

((got a string of comissions lately that suggest that suggest people are way into celebrity fights, especially the late teens variety))
http://i.imgur.com/dpBMS.jpg

The club had been going for some time now, though the majority of the world was not aware of it. Only the wealthiest and most powerful of Hollywood knew of the Actress Arena. It was a source of major entertainment, naturally,  and a practical bargaining tool of its own in the movie business. The best roles went to the winners, and when there were disputes, social or business-like in nature, they were easily settled here.

Tonight was more about a personal feud. Kristen Stewart and Emma Watson had been at each others’ throats, the teen celebs constantly vying to be the top cat of their realm. The huge successes of Harry Potter and Twilight held teen audiences, and from prospective roles to Nick choice awards, having gotten into several arguments of assorted degrees of publicity. Their fight was decided shortly after their MTV music awards fiasco that nearly got physical on stage. The girls weren’t about to protest, and it was in their contracts, and they knew that the league was the way to the top. The winner would get a significant boost in her career, “coincidentally” based on her largely secretive victories.

The Actress Arena was a studio, posing as a fully functional member of Hollywood on the outside. Once they got inside and past security, it was a miniaturized wrestling arena. A full sized wrestling ring, bleachers for the spectators (though with fewer and finer seating), and a smallish kitchen/food court for the spectators.

Emma stretched out in her corner of the ring, waiting for her opponent in her thick white robe. She had insisted her agent hire her a trainer, so she’d been spending the last week of preparation practicing boxing and wrestling with her coach, as well as just plain jogging. It wasn’t a massive change, since she still ate what she felt like, as per usual, and she refused to let the trainer do more than the most basic of demonstrations of holds and jabs on her. She wouldn’t have her image ruined or put in much pain, despite the coach’s assurances that she wouldn’t actually hurt her. She was confident in the win over the talentless American and claim and retain the title as top teenager actress.

She had arrived early, readying herself and doing a bit of playing to the crowd as the last of them filtered in. Kristen Stewart  started to enter the runway just before the match was supposed to start up. She had the same robe, and clearly Kristen was less enthused about it, but she was going to do her best all the same. She had been either too stressed or apathetic to work out nearly as much. She was still eager to win, though more of a matter of she didn’t wish to be beaten before the crowd of mixed fans. She’d heard of the things some of the girls here did to their opponents, and it was nothing her (or MOST) girls would like to go through. She hadn’t done much but a bit of walking and jogging lately to stay in shape.

Emma smiled at her once Kristen was in the ring and in position to see her do so. “It was nice of you. Couldn’t have hosted this beating without you, afterall.”
Kristen frowned back at her. “Dream on, Brit bitch. I know the crowd’ll just love it when I  spank your ass like the spoiled princess you are.”
Emma laughed back at her. “Aww, the emo baby has a mouth on her. Well I’m not scared of some werewolf-fucking slut. And here’s why.” Emma untied her robe and threw it aside, showing off her yellow bikini.

“You going to hide that flabby ass under that robe all night?” Emma taunted, Kristen blushing a bit and frowning back at her. This whole thing felt like it was more trouble than it would be worth, but she wanted to get this over with and kick Emma’s ass quickly. She took off her robe, the black form-fitting bikini that earned her share of catcalls and whistles.
“There. Enough skin for you, you little lesbo?” Kristen hissed back, the ref signaling the girls to get ready. Kristen steeled herself, but Emma kept her casual leaning on the ropes.
“Not enough until you’re begging and naked on the mat,” the Potter girl grinned at her. The bell sounded and they were off.

While Emma approached with her hands up high, eager to try out some of her wrestling, but Kristen threw a kick at her legs. One struck at her calf, making Emma wince just slightly and cut off her momentum. Kristen frowned seriously and sent out more kicks, keeping Watson’s hand’s at bay with her longer legs. It worked well the third time, but at the fourth Emma was clear on her approach and caught Kristen by the ankle, pulling it sharply upward.
“Waaah!” Kristen yelped, falling onto her back. She was left rattled while Emma pounced on her, tangling her legs up in her hers as the French girl swung a sharp slap across Kristen’s face. It swung the Twilight star’s head aside, eyes wide in surprise and pain as she scowled back up and slapped Emma back. The air between the girls became a blizzard of swinging arms, both slapping, grabbing and flailing at each other. Neither was especially skilled, but they were vicious in their hateful rivalry. Both started connecting with slaps, though Emma’s swung Kristen’s head a bit further with each swing, at the very least since leverage was on her side in the higher ground.

Kristen managed to shove up the butt of her palm into Emma’s chin. What would have been a move along the lines of a devastating uppercut was tangled up in the flurry of limbs, instead merely a hard shove at Emma’s face to shove her slowly backward. As Emma was bent back, Kristen loosened her legs and swung them up, grabbing her around the upper body and yanking her back off of her to the mat. The crowd started to cheer as the girls got past their preliminary cat fighting, seeming to get into a more tactical but no less vicious style.

Emma clawed at Kristen’s legs, but she slid to one side of her and clamped her legs down on her foe’s bare belly. Kristen cursed and gagged a bit, trying to shove and wriggle free but Kristen grabbed her one arm, pulling it plainly away from her body to let her scissors do their magic. Emma’s squirming was getting nowhere fast, so she quickly decided to switch tactics. She reached down with her free hand to grab Kristen’s toes, twisting them sharply in one direction.

Kristen screamed as the delicate appendages were mangled, scrambling wildly to break the scissors and put some distance between them. Emma scrambled onto her haunches, actually taking a moment to brush her hair back and make sure that it was relatively in place before considering a renewed offense. Kristen was still balancing her footing, favoring one leg while she tried to minimize the pressure on her delicate toes. It gives Emma an opening to rush her and ram her back into the ropes, pressing her back until Kristen started to groan in pain. Emma whipped her opponent by the arm, sending her flying towards the opposite side of the ring. She impacted, rebounded riding the elastic to speed back at Emma. The French actress was already rushing at her,  smashing her across the upper chest with a clothesline. It wasn’t exactly a practiced move, just something she was mimicking from pro wrestling on tv. It was still rather effective, and floored Kristen to the mat. She clutched at her neck, moaning briefly before Emma turned and stomped into her belly, Kristen coughing air out of her lungs and spasming beneath her opponent’s foot.


The curly-haired blond circled the weakened Kristen, throwing up her arms and beckoning the crowd for praise. The Twilight star rolled to her knees, wincing. She refused to go down this easily, not in front of all these people. She was cut off again, Emma resuming her attack as she straddled Kristen’s back and wrapped her hands under her chin. Emma pulled back and slammed her butt down onto her opponent’s back, dropping her onto her belly and mounting her as she pulled up her neck in a camel clutch, working Kristen’s back again. She yowled out in pain, slapping a hand at the mat as she grabbed for some manner of vent for her sudden shock of pain. Emma laughed, proud and gleeful as she bent her opponent backward.

“Like that, you little emo tramp?” she taunted. “Who’s the princess of the ring? Who!?”
“Nnngh! Get bent, bitch!” Kristen grunted out, grabbing for the ropes but they remained out of her grasp. She wasn’t even sure if Emma would even let her go if she reached them. There wasn’t any apparent referee to make her, and she hadn’t read the rulebook to the league. Was there even a rulebook? Website? Pamflet, maybe?

She eventually gave up on that approach anyway, reaching up and beating her fists clumsily back against Emma’s chest and face. A lucky blow clunked into her nose, making her let go of the hold. Emma’s hands left her foe’s face, holding her nose as Kristen rolled onto her shoulder and shoved hard at the French-born actress. Emma tumbled onto her back, thrown off kilter while Kristen scrambled on all fours towards ringside.

Emma gave chase just as Kristen reached the edge of the ring, ducking under the bottom rope. “No running from me, you talentless slut. Fighting as bad as your acting?!” she goaded.
Kristen leaned out of the ring, grabbing one of the discarded robes. She’d turn back and quickly throw it into Emma’s face, turning the world white from her point of view as she let out a muffled cry of surprise under the heavy robe. Kristen grabbed the ropes and scrambled to her feet as Emma tried figuring out which way was out of the robe.
“You  going to hide under that robe all night?” Kristen laughed, paraphrasing Emma from earlier. She rushed at Emma to delivery a heavy clothesline, but the taunt turned out to be her downfall. Emma now had a sense of where her opponent was, and quickly raised a foot and shot it out, meeting the speeding Kristen in the gut.
Her eyes bugged and she doubled over Emma’s foot, spittle splashing from her mouth as her face twisted in pain, struggling to recover her breath. Emma threw the robe off of her and raised her hands, linking fingers and crashing them down over Kristen’s back. She let out a short cry before she smacked into the mat once again.

Emma laughed down at her as she stood over the groggy brunette. “You’ve sure been spending a lot of time down there. Need me to build you a summer home on the mat, pussy?” Kristen didn’t so much retort as she held her back and moaned, rolling slightly and pathetically over the mat. Emma grabbed her by the hair, easily dragging the weaker, less-prepared girl to her feet. She swung Kristen by her fistfuls of her locks, slamming her already sore back into the nearest ringpost. Kristen’s back arched and eyes bulged as she screamed out, cut off once again when Emma pressed her attack. She rushed after her foe and rammed her knee into her flat belly, doubling up the  young actress with the hard shot. Emma just grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her back upright, forcing Kristen to face her before before smacking her with a hard backhand across the breast.

“Owww!” Kristen yowled out and felt her knees start to give out, grabbing onto the ropes just to stay standing.  The bare skin above her modest rack was turning a bright red from the punishment. “Emma… Emma, time out,” she panted weakly, managing to wave one hand between them. “Just a second…”

Emma slapped her hand away, grinning confidently and swinging her fist into Kriten’s belly. The air was blasted out of her lungs by her invading fist, Emma hammering her repeatedly and making her weak body quiver with each reddening strike to her belly. Kristen was all but a rag doll this point, whimpering in pain even when Emma stopped and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

“Had enough yet, slut?” the French girl snapped at her opponent. Kristen’s face twisted painfully, considering her position a moment. She was aching and sore all over by now, her shaking arms wrapped around the ropes all that kept her up now.
She nodded and held out her hands. “I give. I’m serious. I surrender!” she insisted.
“Who’s the teen queen?” Emma demanded, stepping up to her and shoved at her chest.
“You!” Kristen blurted urgently. “You are, Emma!”
“And you are?” Emma urged, running a hand up her chest and pressing it against Kristen’s throat. Not choking her, wanting her to speak on, but a tight enough grip to hold her in place and make her point clear. She was in charge, and she was the stronger.
“I’m…” Kristen wondered what it was she wanted to hear. At this point though, she wanted this over with and just to go home and soak and massage her soreness away. “I’m a slut. And a pig. And you’re so much tougher and more talented than I am. Now pleeeease let me go.”

Emma tapped her bottom lip in exaggerated thought. “Hmmm… I guess you HAVE had enough.” Emma let go of her neck slowly, running it over her shoulder intimately. Kristen sighed in relief, but Emma grabbed her by the neck and  sticking out her leg, hurling Kristen over her thigh and tumbling onto the mat. “But I haven’t!” she crowed.

Kristen held her head and groaned on the mat, dizzy and aching as Emma stood over her. It seemed to fit the trend, as of late. What was new, however, was the feeling of Emma pulling at her top. She just started to roll over and take noticed when Emma untied her bikini top and ripped it clean off of her. Kristen scrambled to grab at her pale breasts to cover them, trying to hide her sudden nudity from the crowd and her hated rival. Her hands flying up to shield her bosom left her lower body wide open, so Kristen took full advantage by grabbing bikini bottoms. “H-hey! Stop! I quit already!” Kristen shouted and kicked, but Emma’s grip stayed stuck on her swimsuit until it was ripped down her legs.

Kristen gasped as she was left curled up naked in the center of the ring, the crowd exploding in cheers to see the famous teen star stripped like a cheap whore. She scrambled towards a corner to try and protect herself in the slightest. Emma waved her clothing over her head. “Who wants a souvenir!? Fresh from the slut!” She sniffed at her bikini briefs before grinning. “Still warm, too!” She threw them out to random nearby fans in the crowd, chanting her name as she paraded and posed for them. She soaked in their adoration and attention like an emotional vampiress, shaking off her minor strains and injuries in return for the love of the crowd. All for nothing more than beating down a prudish bitch who thought she was a match for her.

Kristen was the opposite. She was trying to curl up into a ball until she became invisible, cowering in the corner from the victorious Emma. Her pride was broken, she was miserable, and every part of her was sore. She started to try and slide from the ring, but Emma turned and saw her. Kristen froze in a panic as the Harry Potter girl marched after her.

“No! No, please, Emma!” she groveled, getting on her knees and folding her hands to beg. “Mercy! Please! Princess!” The pain and misery in her voice was clear.

It just made Emma smile. She grabbed Kristen by the legs, dragging her out of the corner by both feet. Kristen didn’t even have the strength to kick or resist much at all, pulled away from her turnbuckle like a sack of potatoes. She knew that Emma had pulled some pro style moves already, dreading the  thought that the rival actress had picked up some leg-breaking maneuvers. She recalled some other girls talking about how their opponents in the league here had gotten them trapped in sharpshooters, or lion tamers, or crabs or dragon locks. She didn’t know what those were, mind you, but they sounded awful anyway. She’d just nodded along with the conversation and feigned sympathy pains.

It turned out that Emma couldn’t have recognized any of those moves by name, let alone perform them. She instead started to spin, dragging Kristen’s head, hair, and drooping arms over the mat. She quickly gained speed, whirling enough that Kristen’s upper body was lifted off the mat by centrifugal force. She screamed, the air whipping her dark hair along behind her as she spin. The ceiling flew by overhead and she could hear the echo of her own screams as she was whipped around back to where she was a half second ago.

Emma released her at last, letting her fly and crash across the mat like a hammer throw. She only stopped when her shoulder hit the ropes, a crude and uncomfortable stop for her. She felt the ground moving beneath her, dizzier than the time she rode the big nasty roller coaster at 6 Flags. She grunted and held her head, but still couldn’t get enough balance to get so much as onto her knees, barely held up by her elbows. Emma was staggering a bit too from the whirling move, but at least still standing, so in far better shape than Kristen was right now.

She got her head on straight before approaching Kristen, leaning down and slapping at her face, as if waking her up. “Come on, Krissi,” she taunted dotingly. “Come on. Get up and fight like you’re a real girl now. Not some Beat-Me-Up Emo Barbie punching bag.” Kristen raised a hand for a defiant slap, no matter how pointless, but even her swing was off target from the dizziness. Emma had expected as much, laughing aloud in her face.

“Pathetic as ever,” Emma gloated. “Maybe the dizziness actually improved your aim.” She grabbed Kristen by the hair, yanking her upright and standing her in front of her. Emma pressed her bikini’d breasts into her Kristen’s back, forcing her semi-upright. It made Kristen’s head spin all the more to do so, enough to distract her from the fact that Emma was making a show of her.

“What do you think, my lovely audience? Does she even compare to your princess?” The crowd jeered and taunted the poor, pale, dazed girl, even a few thrown food wrappers and emptied cups bouncing off of her. “Of course not!” Emma agreed loudly. “Look at her. Pasty and sickly. A body like a washed up hooker. No muscle, blobs of useless fat… and these.” She reached around and grabbed Kristen’s bare breasts, squeezing and kneading them ruthlessly like a sadistic baker. “You call these tits? They’re pathetic little half-baked pancakes compared to your princess!”

Emma pinched at Kristen’s nipples with her finger tips, nails scraping just slightly against them in a cruel warning. It stung Kristen all the more for the spared punishment of a tit claw. Emma had beat her fair and square. Kristen had pulled out all the stops with her robe trick, and STILL the Potter girl had beat her soundly, apart from a few early shots on her. She moaned out in pain at her pinched nips, on top of the shame it brought her.

“Now these…” Emma stepped away from her, reaching back and sexily starting to untie her top. The crowd’s volume rose a level as they caught her implication. “THESE are what REAL tits look like.” She removed her top, whirling it over her head like a victory flag. The cheers and catcalls grew louder and she paradaed around, cupping her teen tits and bouncing them a bit for the crowd. She finally turned over to the still dazed and groggy Kristen, pulling her face abruptly into her cleavage and shaking her face into them like a malicious lap dance. Kristen was shaken into her bosom a bit before Emma let go, Kristen falling groggily to her knees and groaning miserably. She didn’t have the strength to keep her own leg muscles working now.

But Emma had still more in mind for her. She took Emma by the hair again, this time advancing towards the ropes at ringside. She hurled Kristen straight into the ropes until she pitched over the top rope, dangling precariously over the outside of the ring. The naked Kristen hung almost exactly half in and half out of the ring, her belly resting on the top rope. She was a bare and miserable spectacle, which the crowd shouted and cheered in appreciation at. Emma walked up behind her, grinning and parading along the way. She stood right behind her, gripping Kristen’s hair and gyrating as if humping Kristen from behind to play up her win to the crowd. They ate it up completely.

Their approval continued when Emma leaned over beside Kristen and raised her hand, whipping it into the Twilight girl’s bare butt. There was a resounding crack as she was spanked, shrieking and flailing a bit but the spank sounding even louder than her shout. She also couldn’t dare to thrash too much, her balance of her stomach on the rope a precarious one that would send her falling face first onto the barely padded  ground outside the ring.

Emma slapped her ass rapidly, switching cheeks now and then to surprise her and keep the pain fresh. Soon her entire ass was red as a ripe apple, and Emma barely had to tap or squeeze it to shook bolts of pain up through her ass cheeks, making Kristen reduced to tears after the long minutes of spanking she endured.

Emma reached over the rope and grabbed her hair, twisting a handful of Kristen’s dark locks. “Tell the people you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry,” Kristen sobbed miserably, obeying out of survival instinct by now. Disobeying would only mean more pain and punishment.
“Tell them what a pathetic emo slut you are!”
“I’m such a stupid slut for challenging my princess!”
“Stupid vampire-fucking skank!”
“Such a skank!” Kristen agreed in a mess of tears.
“And tell them you submit to me one more time.”
“I submit! I give! Please, god please, Emma! Let me go!”

Emma released her hair and stepped away from her. “I accept,” she said primly, the bell ringing to cue the end of the fight. Kristen sobbed a bit more before trying to right herself, but as she did Emma came rushing at her from behind. She swung with all her might, one more enormous spank hitting her on the ass. This last blow sent her toppling over the ropes, flailing a split second before her shoulder hit the mats by ringside, bounced, and then lay utterly still, eyes glazed over before closing into unconsciousness. Her body had reached its limit, and the fans cheered Emma and booed her fallen victim. More litter and curses and insults were rained on Kristen as the topless Emma pranced and posed a bit more for the crowd, further sealing her future in the movie business from the many powerful onlookers.

Emma Watson would exit the ring to a promise of future contracts, leading roles, and possibly even a musical career. Kristen would be left where she was, or worse off after her Twilight contract expired, and had to be loaded up onto a stretcher by the staff’s nurses just to leave the battleground.