[whatever.]

The bell rang, and the crowd screamed as Jeri and Brooke glared at each other, their bikinis barely containing their fiery spirits. Jeri, with her teal and white attire, took a quick step back, her eyes never leaving Brooke's. Her body was taut, a coiled spring ready to pounce. Brooke, in her violet and gold bikini, towered over Jeri by a few inches, her muscles rippling under the glaring arena lights. They locked up and began their test of strength, their bodies pressed tightly together. The crowd roared as Jeri pounced on the stunned Brooke, wrenching her arm into an armbar. Brooke struggled to break free. Her bicep bulged under the strain, the fabric of her bikini stretching to its limits. Jeri leaned into the hold.  Brooke screamed, but she refused to tap out. Brooke managed to twist her body and use her height advantage to her benefit, reversing the hold. Now, it was Jeri's turn to grimace in pain as Brooke applied pressure to her elbow, pushing it to the point of hyperextension. Jeri's teal bikini top stretched as she gritted her teeth, refusing to submit. The crowd's roar grew louder.

Suddenly, Brooke leaned in and blew into Jeri's ear, sending a shiver down the smaller woman's spine. Jeri's eyes shot wide open, momentarily distracted by the unexpected sensation. Brooke took the opportunity to yank her opponent into a headlock, using the distraction to gain control of the match once more. She took Jeri to the mat with the chokehold clamped in.

"Moan for me, bitch," Brooke taunted, her voice dripping with confidence. Jeri's cheeks flushed red with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She had never been talked to like this before, not even in her most intense acting scenes. But she wasn't going to let Brooke's words get to her. She rolled over, trapping Brooke beneath her for a bridging pin attempt.

It was only one count, but long enough to get the point across to Brooke, who smirked when her gaze met Jeri's.

They locked up violently, shoving, dragging, and twisting each other around the canvas, the sound of their bodies colliding with the mat resonating with every step. The intensity of the struggle grew, and each woman was determined to gain the upper hand. Jeri shoved Brooke off of her feet and put her ass down on the mat.

Brooke sat on the mat, glaring at Jeri with a look that could cut through steel. She took a moment to catch her breath, the fabric of her gold bikini bottoms digging into her thighs. Her eyes narrowed, and she took in the sight of her opponent. Jeri looked unfazed, one hand on the rope, the other telling Brooke to "Bring it."

Brooke was more than happy to.

She stood up but never took her eyes off Jeri. Jeri walks toward her.

Their bodies were perfection, each curve a testament to their dedication to fitness and beauty.  As they circled the ring, the fabric of their swimsuits glinted under the spotlights, highlighting the sweat that glistened on their skin.
 
 They met in a powerful collision, each woman pushing the other with all her might. Their bikinis strained against their muscles as they shoved back and forth. But it was Jeri who had a surprise in store. She reached back and slapped Brooke across the face. The sound reverberated around the arena. Brooke's smirk disappeared.  She launched herself at Jeri, tackling her to the ground. Jeri's body bounced on the mat as Brooke straddled her, raining down punches. Each hit echoed through the arena, a mix of power and precision.

"Is that all you got, bitch?" Jeri spat back, her voice thick with defiance despite the pain. Her question hung in the air like a challenge, a declaration that she was not going down without a fight. She bucked her hips, throwing Brooke off balance, and rolled them over. Now it was Jeri's turn to dominate.

Her fists flew like lightning, each punch landing with a satisfying smack against Brooke's face. The crowd went wild as they watched the smaller woman gain the upper hand, her teal bikini top threatening to slip with every movement.

Brooke's gold bikini gleamed with sweat, her body jerking with the impact of each hit. Her head snapped back and forth, and her once proud posture grew weak. Her eyes began to swim, and she could feel unconsciousness starting to form in the corners of her vision. The sting of each hit grew more distant, each punch less defined, as she fought to stay aware.

Jeri's eyes never left Brooke's body, her gaze moving from the reddened cheek to the sweat-soaked midriff, the muscles in Brooke's abs standing out like a map of uncharted territory. She took a moment to appreciate the power she had over her opponent, the thrill of the fight coursing through her veins like a drug. But she knew she had to keep going, had to keep the momentum, or else Brooke would recover,  and the tide would turn again.

With a swift move, Jeri trapped Brooke's arms and rolled her onto her stomach, locking in a camel clutch. She bent Brooke backward, her spine arching painfully. She leaned back, increasing the pressure.

Jeri wrenched Brooke's head back. The camera zoomed in on her tits, displayed prominently as she gasped for air.. The jumbotron captured the moment in high definition, broadcasting it to the ravenous crowd. She leaned in and spat right into Brooke's bikini top, the saliva trickling down into the valley between her breasts. The crowd gasped in shock, some cheering for the sheer audacity, while others were disgusted by the act. Brooke's eyes flashed with humiliation as she felt the saliva drip down her stomach into her belly button and continue into her bikini bottoms into her pussy.

Jeri slammed her face into the mat, the sound of the impact muffled by the thick padding but still jarring to the onlookers. Her head bounced back up and plopped back down.

The crowd was on its feet, the roar of excitement deafening as Jeri yanked Brooke to her feet, her grip like iron bands around Brooke's wrists. She spun her around, the fabric of their bikinis fluttering in the air like battle flags. But Brooke wasn't going down without a fight. Her eyes blazed with a fury that matched the color of her bikini as she slapped Jeri across the face with a resounding crack. Jeri's head whipped to the side. Jeri's cheek stung, but the pain only fueled her rage. She bared her teeth and swung back, her hand connecting with the side of Brooke's head in a display of raw power. The slap echoed through the arena, a stark reminder of the brutal reality of their no-holds-barred battle. Brooke's eyes watered, but she didn't back down. Instead, she retaliated with a series of slaps that painted Jeri's face with a crimson  glow. The slapfight grew wilder, each woman's hand a blur as it flew through the air, striking with precision and ferocity. Their bodies were covered in sweat and spit, Each hit stung, leaving a wet, sticky trail across their faces and chests under the unforgiving arena lights.

Brooke's gold bikini top was twisted, revealing the curve of one firm tits. Jeri's teal bottoms were riding up her thighs, showing the roundness of her firm ass with every twist and turn of her body. The slaps grew more intense, each one resonating through the arena like a gunshot.
 
 The referee hovered closer, her eyes darting back and forth between the two combatants,

The slaps grew more personal as Jeri and Brooke's hands connected with the flesh of their opponent's faces. Each hit seemed to carry with it a silent declaration of dominance, a wordless assertion of power and superiority. The crowd could feel the animosity in every strike.

Then, with a final, vicious slap, Jeri sent Brooke reeling. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she crashed to her knees, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, their eyes glued to the action in the ring. Brooke's hand shot out, her fingers curling around the waistband of Jeri's teal bikini bottoms. She used the grip to keep herself upright. Jeri sneered and shoved Brooke's face into her pussy. Brooke's nose was buried in the damp fabric of Jeri's bikini bottoms, her breath coming in short, muffled gasps. She yanked Brooke's hair behind her and used it like a harness to keep her face buried deep into her pussy. The crowd's cheers grew louder.
 
 She shoved Brooke away and made her stumble backward,  Jeri took the moment to readjust her bikini top, which had slipped slightly, exposing the upper swell of her tits. She smirked, watching Brooke struggle to regain her composure, her cheeks reddened from the intimate assault.

Brooke's eyes were wild, her gold bikini top hanging precariously off one shoulder, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her tit. The fabric of her bikini bottoms was twisted around her thighs, exposing more of her shapely legs than she had probably planned. Her hand went up to push the top back into place, but Jeri was already on her again, not giving her the chance to recover.

They tangled in a mess of limbs and fabric, their bodies slipping and sliding against each other.
Their bikinis strained with each movement, threatening to give way under the pressure of their fierce grappling. As they rolled across the ring, the friction caused their skin to burn, leaving trails of red welts on their bodies. Their eyes remained locked even as their bodies collided with the steel turnbuckles and ropes. In a sudden move, Jeri managed to free her leg and aimed a powerful kick right between Brooke's spread legs, directly at her pussy. The sound of impact was muffled by the audience's gasp of shock.

Brooke stumbled back, her legs giving out. She fell ass up in the center of the ring, her gold bikini bottoms riding up to expose the smooth skin of her round cheeks. The crowd was a mix of shock and excitement, some covering their mouths while others cheered. Jeri took a moment to appreciate the view, the sight of Brooke's vulnerable position making her pulse quicken.

Jeri stepped closer and grabbed the gold fabric with both hands. With one swift, violent motion, she ripped the bikini bottoms off Brooke's body. The sound of the material tearing echoed through the arena, leaving Brooke's ass bare and exposed to the world. The camera zoomed in, capturing every inch of the intimate moment and broadcasting it on the jumbotron.

Brooke's ass was indeed amazing, a masterpiece of curves and muscle that left the audience in awe. It was clear she had put just as much effort into her physique as she had her career. Her cheeks were perfectly round and firm, begging for a spank or a squeeze. Jeri took in the view, her arousal growing as she saw the vulnerability and humiliation in Brooke's eyes. Jeri took a step back, admiring her handiwork, and the crowd cheered her on, the anticipation thick in the air. She was going to make Brooke regret ever stepping into the ring with her.

Brooke was indeed losing, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and humiliation as she lay on the mat, her gold bikini bottoms in tatters around her ankles. She had never been so exposed, so vulnerable in her entire life, and it was all happening in front of thousands of eager spectators. But she was a fighter, and she wasn't going to let this be the end of her. She pushed herself to her hands and knees, the mat sticky with their combined sweat.

Jeri stepped back, allowing her the space to rise, a smug grin playing on her lips as she watched Brooke's struggle. The crowd held their breath, waiting for the next move.

Brooke stumbled to her feet. Her golden hair was matted against her forehead, her cheeks were flushed from the exertion. Her violet and gold bikini was in shambles, leaving one tit exposed to the cool air of the arena and her pussy and ass completely out in the open. Her cheeks were flushed from the exertion, and her full lips parted as she panted heavily. Her entire demeanor was one of a wild, untamed creature.

Jeri took in the sight of Brooke, her bikini now stained with sweat and the teal fabric clinging to her bruised and scraped body like a second skin. Her eyes glinted with satisfaction and hunger as she approached her opponent. Despite the bruises blooming on her face and the pain in her limbs, Jeri moved with a predatory grace that had the audience on the edge of their seats. Her breasts bounced freely with every step, her nipples peeking out from under the shredded fabric of her top. The top had ridden so high that it was barely covering the base of her breasts, leaving the firm mounds to jiggle tantalizingly with every move she made.



They slugged it out, each throwing punches that would have knocked a man out cold. The air was filled with the sound of flesh smacking flesh, the dull thuds echoing through the arena. The crowd chanted their names. Each blow was thrown with a ferocity that seemed to defy their glamorous personas.

Brooke, fueled by a mix of anger and embarrassment, set her eyes on Jeri's chest, where her teal bikini top was barely hanging on. She lunged forward, her hand shooting out to grab a handful of Jeri's right breast. The fabric stretched tightly around her fingers as she squeezed, trying to cause as much pain and distraction as possible. Jeri's eyes widened, but she didn't let out so much as a whimper. Instead, she took the opportunity to bring her knee up, aiming it directly at Brooke's exposed crotch. But Brooke was ready for it. She blocked the knee with her forearm, the impact sending a shockwave up to her elbow. The crowd gasped, their anticipation for a painful collision between Jeri's knee and Brooke's pussy unfulfilled. Brooke took the moment to twist Jeri's nipple.

Jeri's eyes watered, and she finally let out a pained moan, her body arching back in reflex. Brooke's smirk grew wider as she felt the power shift in her favor. "That's right," she murmured, her voice low and taunting. "Beg for mercy, bitch."

But Jeri refused.

Refusing to submit, refusing to let Brooke's vicious grip on her breast bring her down. Instead, she took a deep breath and brought her knee up again, aiming it this time at Brooke's unguarded ribs. The sound of bone-on bone was like a gunshot in the enclosed space of the ring. Brooke's grip loosened, and Jeri stumbled back, her chest heaving with the effort of her escape.

Brooke's smirk faded into a grimace as she clutched her side, her breaths coming in sharp gasps. But she didn't fall, not yet. Instead, she charged at Jeri again. Jeri met her with a forearm smash to the face that sent Brooke reeling.  They punched each other again. The impact of their blows could be heard in every corner of the arena. The crowd was on their feet, screaming their support, their faces flushed with excitement and lust.

Their tits and ass cheeks jiggled with every move they made, each impact sending ripples through their toned bodies. Jeri's titties bobbed with every hit she landed. Brooke's cheeks clenched and unclenched as she stumbled backward from Jeri's onslaught, her legs threatening to give out. The arena was a sea of flashing cameras and eager faces.

Brooke shoved Jeri back into the corner. This time, the impact was like a freight train hitting a wall, the force of her body slamming Jeri into the turnbuckles with a loud thud that echoed through the arena. Jeri's head snapped back, her teeth rattling in her mouth as she felt the air leave her lungs in a painful rush. She slid down the turnbuckles, her body limp, her eyes glazed over.

Brooke collapsed on top of her, their chests heaving in unison, their sweat-slicked skin sticking together like glue. For a moment, it seemed as if the fight had gone out of them both. The crowd was out of this world.

On the jumbotron, their entangled forms played out in high definition, every bruise and drop of sweat visible to the audience. The camera zoomed in on the mouthful of tit that Brooke had stuffed down her throat, and Jeri's legs wrapped around Brooke's waist. The crowd roared in approval, their phones held high to capture the moment. But as quickly as it had come, the moment was gone. Brooke rolled out of the ring, her body sliding over the ropes like a serpent escaping a trap. She landed with a thud on the floor outside, the impact jolting her back to reality. The arena lights seemed to dim slightly.  She stumbled to her feet, her legs wobbly and unsteady, her vision swimming with stars.

Jeri took advantage of the brief respite, pushing herself upright, her bruised and scraped body protesting every movement. Jeri climbed the top rope.  The crowd watched in awe as she reached the top, the lights casting shadows across her toned abs and thighs. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, but she didn't let the pain show. Instead, she stood tall, her naked body bathed in the adoration of the crowd. The cool air of the arena kissed her skin, making her nipples tighten into hard peaks as she surveyed the battleground below.

Brooke was still on her feet, barely.

Jeri launched herself off the top rope, her legs spread wide. She aimed for Brooke's chest, her feet poised to deliver a bone-crushing blow that would end this match once and for all.

As Jeri descended upon her, Brooke's arms shot up and caught her crossbody style. The crowd had a collective heart attack as Brooke stumbled backward but was saved by the commentator table.

Jeri knew she fucked up. She felt the strength in Brooke's grip as she was hoisted over her shoulders into a fireman's carry; Jeri's arms and legs flailed. Her eyes searched the arena for an escape, for anything that could give her an advantage.  The crowd's cheers grew louder, feeding the flames.

Brooke's grip was unyielding, her muscles bulging. She took a step, then another, her bare feet slapping against the canvas. Jeri's naked body slid down Brooke's back, leaving a wet trail of sweat and desperation. The crowd's cheers grew into a crescendo as Brooke marched towards the edge of the ring, her eyes never leaving the jumbotron that broadcasted their every move.

She turned so that Jeri was between her and the outside post; She backed up and slammed Jeri into it. The impact was like a thunderclap.  The metal buckled under the force as Jeri's back audibly cracked. She smashed her into the post not once, not twice, not three times, but half a dozen. The crowd could feel it, some of them reflexively grabbing theirs.

Jeri went limp across Brook's shoulders, her head lolling to the side and eyes glazing over. But Brooke wasn't finished yet. She climbed the top rope, her long fantastic legs trembling and
 flexing as she carried Jeri across her shoulders. Jeri's arms dangled over Brooke's shoulders, and her hair hung limp over her face. She struggled to regain her senses. Her tits bounced with every step.

 The crowd's eyes were glued.  The arena lights reflected off the droplets of sweat that clung to her tits like jewels, glistening in the harsh glow. Her nipples were hard and erect, the cool air of the arena causing them to pucker in response to the sudden exposure.

Brooke leaped from the top rope. The impact was like a meteor collision. The air rushed out of Jeri's lungs as she was demolished between the canvas and Brooke's body. The crowd jumped out of their seats with timing so perfect it was as if the impact sent them flying as well. But the force of the impact inadvertently knocked Brooke out when the back of her head cracked the mat, and she crumpled face up across Jeri's limp form like a ragdoll- but not across her shoulders; It didn't count as a pin attempt.

They lay butt naked and sweaty in the middle of the ring, their bodies tangled together in a mess. The sight of these two gorgeous women, who had destroyed each other in this fight for supremacy, brought cheers and applause-- shaking the very foundation of the arena, the energy in the room electric.

Brooke found the strength to roll on top of Jeri. She wasted no time, hooking one of Jeri's legs and leaning back to arch over her. The crowd was a sea of screaming faces as the ref threw herself to the mat and started what could be the longest three seconds of Brooke's life.

"One!"

The crowd held its collective breath.  But just as Trish's hand began to come down for the final count, Jeri's leg shot up.. The sound of the kick echoed through the arena, a stark reminder that the match wasn't over yet.

Brooke's eyes went wide. She had been so close to victory, so close to claiming her prize. But Jeri had somehow found the will to fight on. The crowd could not believe it. They had witnessed a display of strength and endurance that defied all expectations. They had seen two goddesses of the screen battle it out in a way that was more raw and primal than any movie scene could ever capture. Their hearts were racing, their eyes glued to the ring, as they waited to see what would happen next. The referee, Trish, her eyes wide with disbelief, had to re-adjust her glasses to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Her heart was racing faster than the count she had been about to administer. Jeri's leg shooting up was like a bolt of lightning, breaking through the tension that had filled the arena. The sound of the kick connecting with the canvas was a declaration of war, a promise that she would not go quietly.

Brooke, still reeling from the failed pin, was quick to react. Her hand shot out like a whip, wrapping around Jeri's throat. She squeezed as hard as she could, her fingers digging into the soft flesh like a vice. Jeri's eyes bulged, her nails scrabbling at Brooke's arm in a desperate bid for air. The crowd's roar grew louder, their excitement reaching a fever pitch.

 This was a brawl, a battle of wills that had descended into something far more primal.

"If I can't pin you, I'll just have to murder you!" Brooke hissed, her voice a mix of rage and frustration. Her grip tightened, her eyes flashing with a feral intensity that was as surprising as it was terrifying. Jeri's eyes rolled back in her head, her body writhing beneath Brooke's weight. Her legs kicked out wildly, searching for any purchase she could find to break the chokehold.

But Jeri wasn't going to go quietly. She managed to grab two handfuls of Brooke's titties, her fingers digging into the soft flesh with a strength that belied her weakened state. Brooke's grip loosened slightly, the pain of Jeri's counterattack breaking through her focus. It was just enough for Jeri to suck in a desperate breath, her chest heaving. With a vicious twist, Jeri nearly pulled Brooke's tits off her chest. The scream was horrifying as she pulled both tits as far apart as she could. Brooke felt the world swimming around her.  The lights grew brighter, and the roar of the crowd sounded like a distant echo. Her vision blurred at the edges, the pain in her chest overriding everything else. She could feel herself slipping away, her body betraying her in the most crucial moment. Jeri's hands were a vice, the pain so intense it felt like her breasts were being torn from her body. She finally collapsed in the middle of the ring.

Jeri's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The feel of her naked flesh against her own is still a vivid memory. But she knew she couldn't lie here forever. She had to get up, had to finish this. The crowd was chanting her name, willing her to rise. But her body was a traitor, refusing to cooperate. Her limbs felt like lead, her muscles spasming with every attempt to move. Her eyes closed, and she felt the coolness of the mat against her skin. She was aware of her heavy breathing and the stickiness of her sweat, but the pain was slowly receding, replaced by a dull ache that seemed to envelop her entire being. The world around her grew quieter, the sounds of the arena fading away. All she could hear was the rushing of blood in her ears and the erratic beating of her heart. Her naked body was a mess of bruises and scrapes, her chest heaving. Her once-perfect makeup was now a smudged mess, a testament to the brutality of their battle. Her tits, once perky and proud, were now flattened against each other, sweat mingling and creating a slick film. Her nipples, which had once been tight with excitement, were now soft and sensitive from the constant abuse.

 Jeri pushed herself onto her hands and knees. The canvas felt like sandpaper against her bruised skin, every inch of her body screaming in protest. Her vision swam, and she had to blink a few times to clear it. She could see the corner of the ring, the top rope taunting her from just out of reach. It was her only chance, her one last hope. She had to make it there. Jeri began to crawl. Her movements were slow and painful, her body trembling with every inch gained. The crowd held its breath as they watched her struggle. Brooke lay still on the mat, unmoving  as Jeri used the last of her strength to jump- a flying headbutt from the sky aimed right at Brooke's head

Connection or not, Jeri knew this was it for her.

Her body arched with the pain of the move, her breasts bouncing with the impact as she drove her head into Brooke's skull. For a moment, the world went silent. Then, the crowd's roar returned, a deafening crescendo that seemed to shake the very foundation of the arena.

Trish, the referee, had seen enough. She didn't want to be the one to explain to their agents why two of Hollywood's most famous figures had killed each other in a wrestling ring. She dropped to the mat, her hand hovering over Brooke's chest to check for a pulse. It was there but faint. She looked up at Jeri passed out on top of her.

Brooke lifted a shoulder with a fraction of a second left before the three count. The ref was flabbergasted; she sat there staring at two women who shouldn't be alive, but here they were, barely.

But Brooke hadn't kicked out completely. With Jeri out cold and with no strength left and a severe concussion, she just couldn't hold that last bit of strength- she fell back to the mat. The ref collected herself, the crowd counted with the ref, and the third slap was emphatically slammed. Jeri lay sprawled on top of Brooke, their naked forms a tangled mess of flesh and sweat.

 But, she had done it.