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.