The penthouse is modern, and far too lavish for the brutality about to unfold. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the city skyline, but neither Madison Beer nor Dove Cameron spare it a glance. The only thing that matters is the lucrative recording contract on the line—and the humiliation of the other woman.
Madison stands 5'5" in her bare feet. She is thin woman with a big rack and nice hips. Dove is 3” shorter. She has small boobs, incredible abs and noticeably toned arms. At 29, she is 3 years older than her rival.
“You sure you wanna do this, Dove?” Madison jeers, tilting her head. “That contract’s got my name stamped all over it. You’re just delaying the inevitable.”
Dove cracked her knuckles, the sound sharp in the silent room. “Wrong. You’re just a pretty face with a high note and zero stamina. I own this stage, Maddy. I’m walking out of here with that deal, even if I have to dismantle you limb by limb to get it.”
The start signal sounds.
Madison strikes first. She drives a trio of sharp kicks into Dove’s ribs. Dove grunts, stumbling back three paces, surprised more than hurt. Before Madison can press the advantage, Dove roars and lunges low, a blur of muscle, tackling Madison’s midsection and driving them to the carpet. They grapple on the rug for a few moments, but the shorter woman is faster and a bit stronger. She pins Madison down, pressing her wrists tight to the carpet as she hops up to settle heavily on the brunette’s waist, knocking the air from Madison’s lungs. Clamping her thighs tight on either side of Beer’s torso, Cameron has effectively neutralizing her foe’s lower body.
"Nngh—get off me, you maniac!" Madison writhes, sweat beading instantly on her forehead.
"Already struggling?” Dove smirkes, her breathing steady. “This is gonna be a long night for you, Maddy. Start practicing your surrender.”
Dove shifts her position, ignoring Madison’s attempts to bridge. She rockets forward, planting herself strategically on top of Madison’s flattened chest, then bounces her butt up and down for emphasis.
Madison groans, her diaphragm, like her boobs, momentarily compressed. Desperation fuels her counter. She plants her feet, grunts and executes a furious, arching bridge. Beer bucks her hips high enough to launch Dove off her perch.
Side by side on the floor now, Dove still holds tight to Madison’s right wrist, intent on securing the ride again. But Madison seizes an opening. Her knee lashes out, connecting hard with Dove’s gut. Cameron grunts, but her abs hold strong. Beer knees her again, just a bit lower this time. Cameron works to climb back on top as Beer’s third knee strike sinks in hard. Cameron reflexively loosens her grip. Madison capitalizes immediately, yanking her arm free and shoving her forearm against Cameron’s throat as she twists around.
In a surge of pure adrenaline, Madison flips completely over, reversing their position. She lands heavily, straddling Dove’s waist. Madison face tenses – her forearm bears down on Camron’s throat. Beer clamps her legs tight around Dove’s hips, locking the smaller woman onto her back.
Dove thrashes instantly, her toned arms fighting to dislodge the weight pressing down on her. Madison leans in with a triumphant, vicious glint in her eyes. She presses her forearm across Dove’s collarbone to keep her pinned, then shifts her weight. With a self-satisfied smirk, Madison leans her full upper body forward, crushing her abundant chest down onto Dove’s face.
“Here’s something you could never do with your tiny tits,” Beer jeers, as she rubs her boobs back and forth across Cameron’s sputtering face.
Madison leans in hard. Soft, warm flesh presses against Dove’s nose and mouth, cutting off her air supply and trapping her head firmly against the carpet.
"How’s your breath control, darling? Maybe you need to practice more,” Madison purrs. Dove continues, “It’s hard to sing when you can barely breathe, isn’t it?”
Cameron twists her body, flails her legs, trying to shift Beer off, but Madison quickly wraps both arms around her head, pulling Cameron’s face tighter into the smother. Madison keeps her arms locked tight, delighted as Cameron’s body shutters and shakes.
“You’re finished, little bird. You’re no match for me!” Beer declares.
Madison revels in the weight of her victory, or at least in the weight of her boobs. She slows her own breathing to maintain consistent pressure. Dove’s muffled cries turn into desperate, shaking growls. The shorter woman twists her body violently, flailing her legs, trying with all her core strength to shift the bulk of Madison off her, but Madison is too too well-positioned. Beer, ensuring every last molecule of air is cut off. This is it. Madison is in complete control, savoring the panic she feels must be radiating from the woman trapped beneath her.
Dove emits a muffled growl. Cameron digs deep inside herself. She doesn’t panic. She is determined, resilient. Though trapped and breathless, she is focused. Her hands, free to move beneath Madison’s grip, shoot up. They don’t claw at Madison’s face or arms; they go straight for the source of Madison’s power—her chest. Dove grips sides of Madison's breasts, digging her fingers deep into the sensitive flesh before twisting and squeezing with everything she has.
She grabs at all the flesh she can. Squeezing, pinching and digging her fingers in. Madison howls. Beer tries to ride out the pain. She leans further into her smother. For long moments, it’s a test of will and pain tolerance. Growing desperate, lacking air, Cameron works her fingers across her own face, searching, until she finds her prize. She latches on to one of Madison’s nipples and twists.
“Bitch,” Madison shrieks lifting her chest up and pulling at her tormentor’s wrists.
"Nice try—but you’ll need to work harder than this,” Cameron spits as she twists herself free, shoves Beer over and buries a knee into Beer’s lower back.
A high-pitched, agonizing shriek tears from Madison’s throat.
“Bitch!” Madison howled, her focus shattering instantly as the white-hot pain raced through her most sensitive flesh.
Beer lifts her body up, desperately, trying to pull away from the tormentor's grip, breaking the smother to save herself. That fraction of a second was all Dove needs. She bucks her hips with explosive force, gulping in air as she throws Madison off her. Cameron drives her left knee straight up into the Madison’s ribcage.
"Nice try—but you’ll need to work harder than that," Dove spits as she kicks Beer away.
The momentum sends Madison flying sideways. Dove rolls swiftly to her knees, breathing raggedly but already on the offensive. As Madison scrambles to get to her feet, clutching her bruised chest, Dove is already up and beside her. She delivers a devastating knee strike directly into Madison’s gut. The brunette doubles over, gasping, her brief moment of victory erased by punishing pain.
Dove is quick and brutal now. Before Madison can fully straighten up, Cameron locks a headlock around her neck. Her toned arms work, her biceps bulge as she secures her grip with the strength of a python. She drags the taller woman up, ignoring Madison’s desperate counter-attempts to wrap her arms around Dove’s body. Madison’s legs tangled with Dove’s as they fight for leverage, but Dove braces herself, her feet rooted. With a primal yell, she yanks down hard on the headlock and slams Madison up against the nearest wall.
The sound reverberates through the penthouse. Dove releases the headlock just long enough to punctuate the move with a jarring shoulder slam into Madison’s already softened ribs.
Madison slides a bit down wall, a soundless cry tearing at her throat. She is hurt, struggling to stay upright, but snaps into survival mode. Dove takes one measured step back, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with focused intensity. Cameron slams a fist into Madison’s gut.
“How does that feel? Do you want more?” Dove threatens.
Madison eyes go wide. She drives an uppercut into her opponent’s belly. Camreon returns fire, pinning her again to the wall. But Beer is all in. Again, she slams her fist up into Dove’s belly. Cameron doesn’t flinch. She smiles. Putting her hand on her hips, she taps her abs and invites Beer to hit her again. Beer puts all the strength she can muster into her next strike. Cameron takes a step back, then attacks shoving Beer back up against the wall. Dove begins a systematic, controlled beatdown. Her fists are blunt instruments, pounding into the softer flesh of Madison’s body—hard, fast, and relentlessly. Midsection, ribs, solar plexus, sternum. Thump. Thump. Thwak. Thwak. Belly, boob, boob, belly, and one to the chin. Repeat…
Madison is utterly defenseless, trapped against the wall. Tears stream down her cheeks. Dove is a machine, gauging the impact of each strike, ensuring maximum suffering. She lands four brutal strikes across Madison's once so lovely, now so bruised breasts—those full pillows that Beer had used for leverage and dominance, now thoroughly owned. This is physical retribution that leaves Madison white-faced and whimpering.
Finally, Dove punctuates the assault with a hard, quick knee to Madison’s inner thigh/groin area. Cameron stops standing back to admire her work, then goes back to work on her foe’s diaphragm and chest. The audience in the penthouse grow uneasy murmuring. It’s too much.
A self-appointed referee steps up, her voice cutting through the stunned room “First fall! Dove Cameron!”
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Dove steps back, breathing heavily but steadily. She throws a forearm across Madison’s tender, rising chest one last time—a gesture of ownership—as she turns to the assembled organizers with a triumphant, sweat-slicked smile, and casually walks a few steps away. Madison, shattered and defeated, slides completely down the wall, collapsing onto her backside.
Dove stops, glancing back at the whimpering woman behind her, and shakes her head. She smiles as she studies her foe, as a predator eyes her wounded prey. There will be no reprieve, no chance to catch a breath.
She walks back to her opponent, seizing the sobbing Madison by the hair, and yanking her away from the wall and onto her knees. Disregarding the crowd’s protests about the break, Dove drags poor Madison across the rug, throwing her flat onto her back like discarded refuse.
“Let’s cut the ‘break’ bullshit,” Dove hisses, leaning over the prone form, her eyes hard. “
Maddy here is no match for me. This is no contest. I’m going to prove it right now, permanently,” Cameron spits.
Madison is on her back, her body flushed and quivering, her bruised chest rising and falling violently in exhausted agony. Dove straddles her waist, pinning both wrists above her head with one hand, her grip absolute.
"Say it," Dove demands, sweat dripping from her toned arms onto Madison’s heaving cleavage. "Say you quit. Say you are beneath me."
Madison is trashed. Dove’s dominance is apparent in every muscle fiber and every breath she takes, yet the residual ambition flares one last, desperate time.
"N-never! I won't give in to you!" she chokes out.
Dove’s smirk is cold. She delivers a sharp, calculating slap to Madison’s left breast, the sound echoing sickeningly off the high ceiling. Madison crys out, arching her back, desperate but trapped..
"You think they want a star with no stamina, who can’t fight, who can’t even admit defeat? You're a liability," Dove pressed, her voice low and venomous. Another slap, harder, leaving a stark red handprint. "Say. It. Say you’re just my warm-up act."
Tears flowed freely now, blurring the lights of the city skyline. The pain throbbing through Madison’s body is overwhelming, eclipsing the promise of stardom. She had fought hard, had her moments, and then been brutally dominated and punished for it.
"...I—I quit!" Madison finally sobs, the words ripped from her soul. "I yield! Just—stop!"
Dove leans in close, bringing her lips perilously near Madison’s ear. "Good girl," she whispered, her voice laced with triumph. "You can be one of my backup singers. You’re good enough for that much."
She stands swiftly, leaving Madison limp, defeated, and utterly broken on the floor. Dove adjusts her top, smooths her hair, and turns to the waiting organizers with hearty grin.
"Looks like I’m your new headliner," she declares, stepping easily over the defeated body of Madison Beer. "Send the contract to my manager."
Recent Posts
