[Lostchris]

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Ariel Winter vs Sydney Sweeney Part 2

The sun blazed over the country club pool just one week after their brutal clash in the field, the turquoise water glinting like a taunt under the midday sky. The deck was deserted, the club a ghost town which was odd for such a hot day. Ariel still nursing some minor wounds (mostly her bruised ego) from her battle with Sydney didn’t mind having the pool to herself, Her dark hair was tied back tightly, her white bikini hugging her voluptuous curves, she stopped dead in her tracks when she realized she wasn’t alone at the pool.  Across the pool stood Sydney Sweeney, her blonde hair loose, her black bikini accentuating her figure. Sydney’s lips curled into a smug grin, her blue eyes dripping with overconfidence. *She’s back for more already? I crushed her last week. This’ll be quick,* Sydney thought, tossing her hair. Ariel’s mind, however, was a furnace of resolve. *She’s cocky. That’s her weakness. I’ll make her pay for humiliating me.*

The field fight had left Ariel battered and shamed, Sydney’s taunts and final humiliations burned into her memory. But Ariel had spent the week channeling her rage, sharpening her instincts, and studying Sydney’s moves. Sydney, riding high on her victory and a fresh wave of social media praise, had posted another jab: “Some girls just don’t learn. #KnowYourPlace.” It was the spark Ariel needed. If she could get payback on Sydney right and here and now would be the best place to do it.

“You’re back for another beating?” Sydney sneered, strutting closer, her black bikini top straining as she puffed out her chest. “You’re still second-best, Ariel.” Her thoughts were dismissive. *She’s no match. I’ll have her crying again in minutes.*

Ariel’s smirk was cold. “Keep talking, blondie. I’m about to shut you up for good.” Her mind was razor-sharp. *She’s overconfident. I’ll use it to break her.*

Ariel charged across the deck, her bare feet gripping the tiles. Sydney met her, expecting an easy repeat, but Ariel was faster, ducking Sydney’s grab and yanking her blonde hair hard. Sydney yelped, her hands clawing at Ariel’s shoulders, but Ariel twisted, shoving Sydney toward the pool’s edge. Their bikinis strained as they grappled, nails digging into skin. Sydney tried to overpower Ariel, grabbing her white bikini top and mauling her breasts. “Still think you’ve got the better rack?” Sydney taunted, squeezing viciously. Ariel gritted her teeth, her thoughts fierce. *She’s going for the same tricks. Not today.* She retaliated, ripping Sydney’s black bikini top clean off, exposing her breasts, and slammed her shoulder into Sydney’s chest, sending her stumbling into the shallow end with a splash. Ariel hopped in after her ready to continue on the offensive.

Water churned as they thrashed, their slick bodies locked in combat. Sydney, flustered by Ariel’s ferocity, grabbed Ariel’s bikini bottom, yanking it into a wedgie. Ariel grunted but used Sydney’s momentum against her, hooking her leg and flipping her onto the pool steps. The impact dazed Sydney, and Ariel pounced, straddling her and clawing at her exposed breasts. “How’s this feel, princess?” Ariel growled, her hands relentless. Sydney screamed, her nails scratching Ariel’s thighs, her thoughts scrambling. *She’s too strong… how is this happening?*

They rolled into deeper water, their chests slamming together in a fierce titfight, wet skin slapping as they fought for control. Sydney’s bikini bottom tore, barely clinging on, while Ariel’s white bikini top slipped, revealing her curves. They traded stinging slaps, their curses echoing across the deck. Sydney’s overconfidence was crumbling. *She’s different… I underestimated her,* she thought, desperation creeping in.

Ariel sensed the shift and pressed her advantage. She maneuvered Sydney against the pool ladder, grabbing her hair and dunking her underwater briefly. Sydney gasped as she surfaced, and Ariel pinned her arms to the ladder, yanking her bikini bottom down to leave her exposed. “Not so smug now, huh?” Ariel hissed, her voice venomous. Sydney thrashed, biting Ariel’s arm to break free, and scrambled onto the deck, panting and vulnerable. *I can still turn this around… I have to,* Sydney thought, but her confidence was shattered.

Ariel was relentless, tackling Sydney onto the tiles and flipping her onto her stomach. She sat on Sydney’s back, grabbing the torn black bikini top and tying Sydney’s wrists tightly behind her. “This is for last week,” Ariel snarled, pressing Sydney’s face into the warm tiles and delivering a sharp spank to her exposed backside. Sydney yelped, her thoughts a whirlwind of humiliation. *This can’t be happening… not again…* Ariel spanked her again, harder, each slap a deliberate echo of Sydney’s past taunts. “You thought you could keep me down?” Ariel mocked, her voice icy. Ariel spanked again and again leaving red welts on Sydney’s backside.

Flipping Sydney onto her back, Ariel straddled her chest, facesitting her with her white bikini bottom, cutting off Sydney’s air. “Who’s better now?” Ariel taunted, grinding down as Sydney’s muffled protests grew weaker. Sydney’s bound hands were useless, her body spent. *I’m done… she’s won,* she thought, her spirit breaking. With a choked sob, she gasped, “You win… stop, please.”

Ariel wasn’t done. She stood, dragging Sydney by her bound wrists to the pool’s edge. “You humiliated me,” Ariel said, her voice low and dangerous. She pushed Sydney’s face into a shallow puddle on the deck, smearing her makeup, then yanked her up and dunked her into the pool one last time, holding her under just long enough to make her panic. Pulling her out, Ariel fished out Sydney’s bikini bottoms and tied it around her ankles, leaving her hogtied on the deck. “This is where you belong—under me,” said Ariel as she rubbed her foot over Sydney's face.

Ariel grabbed a towel, tossing it contemptuously over Sydney’s bound body. “Don’t ever challenge me again,” she said, her eyes cold. She walked away, her white bikini gleaming in the sun, her victory absolute. *I broke her. She’s nothing now,* Ariel thought, her heart pounding with triumph.

Sydney lay there, soaked, bound, and humiliated, her pride in tatters. *She destroyed me… but I’ll come back. This isn’t over,* she thought, her tears mixing with the pool water. The pristine deck bore the scars of their battle, a testament to Ariel’s ruthless dominance—but Sydney’s flickering defiance hinted at a rivalry that still simmered, ready to ignite again.

[Lostchris]

Ariel Winter vs Sydney Sweeney Finale

Two weeks after their brutal poolside rematch, the air was thick with tension inside the rented-out yoga studio, its polished wooden floors reflecting the soft glow of overhead lights. The space, usually serene with mats and mirrors, was now a battleground for the final showdown between Sydney Sweeney and Ariel Winter. Both women had one victory under their belts—Sydney’s dominance in the field, Ariel’s revenge at the pool—and this third fight was to settle their rivalry once and for all. The stakes were sky-high, their hatred palpable, promising their longest, most violent, and most provocative clash yet.

Ariel stood at one end of the studio, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun, her black sports bra clinging to her voluptuous curves, grey yoga pants hugging her hips, the faint outline of her black thong visible through the fabric. Her brown eyes burned with determination, her body honed from relentless training. *She humiliated me twice. This ends with her broken,* Ariel thought, her fists clenched. Across the room, Sydney radiated confidence, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, a white spaghetti strap top and matching white yoga pants accentuating her curvaceous figure. Her blue eyes gleamed with a mix of arrogance and resolve. *She got lucky last time. I’m ending this today—she’ll never challenge me again,* Sydney thought, adjusting her top with a smirk.

The studio was silent, the mirrors reflecting their poised, predatory stances. No words were needed; their history spoke volumes. Sydney’s recent X post had fanned the flames: “Third time’s the charm. #BetterWomanWins.” Ariel had replied with a simple fuck you.  Now, face-to-face, they were ready to tear each other apart.

Without warning, Ariel lunged, her hands aiming for Sydney’s hair, but Sydney sidestepped, grabbing Ariel’s sports bra and yanking it upward, nearly exposing her. Ariel gasped, retaliating with a sharp slap across Sydney’s face, the crack echoing in the studio. “You’re going down, blondie!” Ariel snarled, her nails raking Sydney’s shoulder. Sydney winced but fired back, grabbing Ariel’s grey yoga pants and pulling them down to her thighs, revealing her black thong. “Not before you, sweetheart!” Sydney shot back, her voice venomous as she landed a stinging slap to Ariel’s cheek.

The women grappled, their bodies slamming together, their outfits straining as they clawed and tugged. Ariel’s sports bra tore at the side, exposing more skin, while Sydney’s spaghetti strap top ripped at the shoulder, one strap dangling. They stumbled across the studio, crashing into yoga mats, their grunts and curses filling the air. Sydney shoved Ariel against a mirror, her hands mauling Ariel’s breasts through her bra, squeezing hard. “I think it’s about time I rip these off your chest?” Sydney taunted, her fingers digging in. Ariel’s thoughts were a storm of fury. *She’s trying to break me again—I won’t let her!* She broke free of Sydney’s grip, flipping positions Sydney and throwing Sydney up against the mirror, her hands clawing at Sydney’s chest through her torn top. “You’re just envious of how much better my tits are!” Ariel hissed, her nails leaving red marks.

Sydney squirmed her back literally against the wall,  her mind racing. *She’s strong, but I’m smarter. I’ll wear her down.* She hooked her fingers into the waistband of Ariel’s yoga pants, barely able to grasp Ariel’s thong, Sydney powered through and reached further down grabbed what she could of Ariel’s thong and delivered a brutal wedgie with the black thong. Ariel shrieked, her focus faltering, giving Sydney the chance to tackle Ariel onto her back. They rolled across the floor, their bodies entwined in a fierce titfight, their breasts slamming together through their torn tops, sweat and skin glistening in the studio lights. Ariel’s sports bra snapped completely, falling away, while Sydney’s top tore open, leaving her in just her white yoga pants.

The fight stretched on, their longest yet, each woman refusing to yield. They traded vicious slaps, their faces red and stinging, their bodies bruised and scratched. Each woman on one knee trading shots, Sydney fires a jab that grazes Ariel’s temple, Ariel counters with a wicked slap that almost knocks Sydney’s head off. Taking advabtage of the brutal blow,  Ariel pinned Sydney face-down, sitting on her back and yanking her yoga pants down, grabbing Sydney’s panties and returning the favor by yanking her panties up into a wedgie. “How’s that feel, princess?” Ariel growled, pressing Sydney’s face into a yoga mat. Ariel grabbed Sydney by the back of the head and slapped the shit out of Sydney with the other, she repeated this 3 more times. Sydney’s muffled screams fueled her desperation. *I can’t let her win again!* Ariel winded up for another devestating blow but thid time Sydney was gonna make her move,  She twisted, trapping Ariel’s wrist with a joint lock she had been practicing. Sydney was no martial arts expert but it was enough of a move to get her free.

Both women were panting, their bodies slicks with sweat, their outfits in tatters—Ariel in her black thong and torn yoga pants, Sydney in her ripped white yoga pants, her top long gone. Sydney struck first a vicious slap to Ariel’s right breast, it stung but Ariel came back with a forearm smash knocking Sydney back into the mirror wall. Sydney was hurt but fired off two jabs to Ariel’s face catching her off guard, Ariel threw a wild haymaker but Sydney ducked, Sydney smacked the taste out of Ariel’s mouth with a vicious slap, Ariel was unsteady on her feet. Sydney smelt blood in the water, Sydney faked a punch but delivered a brutal kick to the inside of Ariel’s right leg, dropping her down to her knee. Before Ariel could gameplan her nose was crushed with a brutal knee from Sydney knocking her out for a second.

Sydney’s hands pinned Ariel’s wrists above her head, her knees trapping Ariel’s arms. “You’re done, Ariel!” Sydney shouted, her voice fierce. She slapped Ariel’s face repeatedly, each smack ringing out, leaving Ariel’s cheeks burning. Ariel thrashed, her thoughts frantic. *I can’t lose… not like this!* But Sydney was relentless, shifting to facesit Ariel, her white yoga pants pressing against Ariel’s face, cutting off her air. “Who’s better now, huh?” Sydney taunted, grinding down. Ariel’s hands clawed at Sydney’s thighs, but her strength was fading, her mind reeling. *I can’t breathe… she’s too much…*

Sydney leaned back, grabbing Ariel’s black thong and yanking it into a final, agonizing wedgie. Ariel’s muffled scream vibrated against the mat, her body spent. Sydney slid off, flipping Ariel onto her stomach and tying her wrists with the torn remnants of her own sports bra. “Say it,” Sydney demanded, pressing Ariel’s face into the mat and spanking her exposed backside hard. Ariel gasped, her pride crumbling. Sydney spanked her again, each blow a deliberate humiliation. “Say I’m the better woman!”

Ariel’s body trembled, her thoughts resigned. *She’s got me… I can’t take anymore.* With a choked sob, she gasped, “You’re the better woman, Sydney… you win.” Sydney smirked, her victory absolute. *She’s mine. No doubt left,* she thought, her eyes cold. But she wasn’t done. To seal her dominance, she dragged Ariel to her knees by her hair, forcing her to crawl across the studio floor. “Look at you, pathetic,” Sydney sneered, yanking Ariel’s thong down completely, leaving her exposed. She pushed Ariel’s face into a pile of yoga mats, smearing her makeup, then tied her ankles with a piece of her torn yoga pants, leaving her hogtied.

Sydney stood, her chest heaving, her white yoga pants clinging to her sweat-soaked body, her blonde hair wild but triumphant. “Don’t ever come for me again,” she spat, kicking a yoga block at Ariel’s bound form for added shame. She grabbed her torn top, draping it over her shoulder like a trophy, and strutted out, leaving Ariel broken on the studio floor.

Ariel lay there, her body bruised, her pride shattered, her tears soaking the mat. *She destroyed me… she’s better,* she thought, the admission burning worse than any physical pain. The studio, once a place of calm, bore the scars of their savage battle, a testament to Sydney’s undeniable dominance.

[Lostchris]

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Taylor Swift vs The Kardashians PART 2 Taylor gets Jumped in the Green Room

The green room was a plush haven of velvet and soft light, but the air crackled with tension as Taylor Swift paced, her sleek black bodysuit hugging her frame, her long blonde hair in a tight ponytail. The adrenaline of her upcoming stadium show pulsed through her, but the memory of her steam room victory over Kendall Jenner weeks ago lingered, a warning of unfinished business. She’d humiliated Kendall, left her broken on the tiles, but the Kardashian-Jenner clan never let a slight go unanswered.

The door slammed open, and Kylie Jenner stormed in, her curvy figure poured into a tight red dress, her eyes blazing with malice. Kendall followed, her model’s frame clad in a black leather jacket and jeans, her smirk sharper than a blade. The sisters moved with predatory grace, their presence suffocating the room. Taylor’s hazel eyes narrowed, her long legs tensing as she faced them. “What do you want?” she snapped, her voice steady but her pulse racing.

Kylie’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. “You thought you could humiliate my sister and walk away?” she hissed, stepping closer, her heels clicking ominously. “You’re not untouchable, Taylor.”

Kendall leaned against the wall, her long legs crossed, her eyes burning with vengeance. “You got lucky last time, Swift,” she said, her voice icy. “But we’re not alone now. You’re done.”

Taylor’s fists clenched, her dancer’s legs ready to strike. “Bring it on,” she challenged, her voice a growl. “I took you down once, Kendall. I’ll do it again—and your sister too.”

The room erupted into chaos. Taylor struck first, her agility giving her an early edge. She lunged at Kylie, her long legs propelling her forward as she grabbed Kylie’s wrist and twisted, forcing her to stumble. Kendall was on her instantly, her height and reach closing the gap as she tackled Taylor to the carpet. The three women became a tangle of limbs, the green room echoing with grunts and the thud of bodies.

Taylor fought valiantly, her strength shining through. She hooked a leg behind Kendall’s knee, yanking  her crashing to the floor, and turned to block a clawing strike from Kylie. Her powerful thighs snapped around Kylie’s waist, squeezing hard as Kylie gasped, her hands clawing at Taylor’s legs. “You’re not winning this,” Taylor snarled, her muscles bulging with effort. She wrapped her arms around Kylie’s neck trying to incapacitate one of these bimbos.

But the sisters were relentless, their combined force overwhelming. Before she could get Kylie out, Kendall was back up and attacking her,  Kendall’s lean, powerful legs wrapped around Taylor’s midsection in a crushing body scissor, her thighs tightening like a vice. Taylor groaned, her hands prying at Kendall’s jeans, but Kylie recovered, her curvy frame pressing in from behind. “Let’s end this,” Kylie purred, wrapping her arms around Taylor’s shoulders and pulling her back, smothering her face against her ample chest. Taylor’s muffled cry vibrated against Kylie’s skin, her legs kicking desperately as Kendall’s thighs squeezed harder, cutting off her air and strength.

Taylor’s vision blurred, her body screaming for oxygen. She twisted with all her might, her agility freeing one leg to kick at Kendall’s head, loosening the scissor hold for a fleeting moment. She shoved Kylie back, gasping for air, and rolled to her feet, her chest heaving. “You’re gonna regret this,” Taylor spat, charging forward. She tackled Kylie to the ground, pinning her arms with her knees, but Kendall was faster this time. Before Taylor could recover, Kendall was on her, her thighs locking around Taylor’s waist again, squeezing with brutal force.

Kylie joined in, her weight pinning Taylor’s shoulders as the sisters overwhelmed her. Taylor’s legs thrashed, her hands clawing at Kendall’s thighs, but the combined assault was too much. Her strength faded, her body trembling under the relentless pressure. Kendall sneered, tightening her scissor hold. “Not so tough now, are you?” she taunted, her legs flexing as Taylor’s gasps turned to whimpers.

Kylie grinned wickedly, sliding off Taylor’s shoulders. “Time to finish her,” she said, nodding to Kendall. In a humiliating final move, the sisters maneuvered Taylor onto her knees, her body too weak to resist. Kylie turned, her curvy backside looming as she herself onto Taylor’s face, her ass engulfing the right side of Taylor’s face. X. Kendall mirrored her, shifting to position her toned ass over Taylor’s head from the opposite side, sandwiching Taylor’s face between them. Taylor’s muffled protests faded, her limbs twitching feebly as the sisters’ combined weight and curves cut off her air entirely. The green room was silent save for Taylor’s faint, desperate gasps, her strength sapped as the sisters dominated her.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally released her. Taylor collapsed, her body limp, her face flushed and hair disheveled. Kylie and Kendall stood up straight, adjusting their outfits with smug satisfaction. Kylie pulled out her phone, snapping pictures of Taylor sprawled on the carpet, defeated and humiliated. Kendall struck a pose, one long leg resting on Taylor’s back, her smirk triumphant. “This is going viral,” Kylie said, her voice dripping with glee as she snapped another photo, capturing Taylor’s broken form.

“Send it to Kim,” Kendall added, laughing as she leaned down, her face close to Taylor’s. “Don’t ever cross us again, Swift. You’re nothing now.”

The sisters strutted out, leaving Taylor crumpled on the floor, her breath ragged, her pride shattered. The green room, once her sanctuary, now felt like a cage. As the door clicked shut, Taylor’s hands clenched into fists, her eyes burning with a flicker of defiance despite the humiliation. They’d won this round, but she wasn’t done—not yet.

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Uh oh Swifties… Taylor got jumped here, I thought she gave hell as much as you can against two younger women. Will Taylor stay humiliated, or will she get her revenge on those two Jenner girls and maybe even the final boss herself Kim K. Stay Tuned!   

[Lostchris]

Taylor vs the Kardashains Finale: Taylor Swift plots her revenge


The grand ballroom of the faux gala glittered with chandeliers and gold-trimmed decor, a perfect mirage of opulence designed to lure the Kardashian-Jenner trio into Taylor Swift’s trap. Months of meticulous planning had gone into this night, every detail orchestrated with Taylor’s vast resources to ensure the event looked like a legitimate red-carpet affair. Invitations, forged with precision, had drawn Kim Kardashian, Kylie Jenner, and Kendall Jenner to the venue, each expecting a night of glamour and clout. But Taylor had other plans. The layout was her masterpiece: carefully designed to split the sisters across the sprawling venue, isolating them for one-on-one confrontations. Tonight, Taylor would reclaim her pride, starting with Kendall and ending with the bitch who’s been pulling the strings Kim Kardashian.

Taylor, dressed in a sleek silver gown that hugged her toned frame, her long blonde hair cascading in waves, moved through the crowd with predatory focus. Her eyes locked onto Kendall, who stood near a secluded VIP lounge, her model’s figure striking in a black velvet dress, her long legs accentuated by strappy heels. Kendall’s smirk was as arrogant as ever, oblivious to the trap. Taylor’s heart raced, memories of the green room humiliation fueling her resolve. She’d beaten Kendall once in the steam room, but only because Kendall had slipped. Taylor knew those long, powerful legs could crush her if she let the fight drag on. This time, she’d end it fast.

Taylor slipped into the lounge, signaling her hired staff to seal the exits discreetly. The room emptied of stragglers, leaving just her and Kendall. Kendall’s eyes flicked up, her smirk faltering as she sensed the shift. “Swift,” she drawled, setting down her champagne flute. “Didn’t expect you to crash your own funeral.”

Taylor’s lips curled into a cold smile, her long legs tensing beneath her gown. “You’re the one who’s done, Kendall,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “This ends tonight.”

Kendall laughed, stepping forward, her height and confidence towering. “You think you can take me again? You got lucky last time.” She kicked off her heels, her long legs flexing as she closed the distance, ready for a fight.

Taylor didn’t wait. She lunged, her dancer’s agility propelling her forward as she aimed low, targeting Kendall’s legs to neutralize her greatest weapon. Kendall reacted fast, her long limbs swinging to block, but Taylor was quicker. She hooked an arm around Kendall’s thigh, yanking hard and sending her stumbling onto the plush carpet. The lounge became their arena, the muffled music from the gala masking the sounds of their struggle.

Kendall scrambled to her feet, her legs lashing out in a vicious kick that grazed Taylor’s side. Taylor grunted but stayed focused, knowing she couldn’t let Kendall lock those thighs around her. She ducked under another kick, using her speed to circle behind Kendall and wrap her arms around her waist. With a surge of strength, Taylor lifted and slammed Kendall face-down onto the carpet, her knees pinning Kendall’s lower back. “Not this time,” Taylor hissed, her voice raw with determination.

Kendall thrashed, her long legs kicking wildly, but Taylor was relentless. She grabbed Kendall’s ankles, twisting them to keep her grounded, then slid into position, wrapping her own powerful thighs around Kendall’s midsection in a brutal leg scissor. Kendall gasped, her hands clawing at Taylor’s legs, but Taylor’s dancer-honed muscles were unyielding. “You’re not getting up,” Taylor growled, squeezing harder, her thighs bulging as Kendall’s face reddened, her breaths turning to choked whimpers.

Kendall’s nails scratched desperately at Taylor’s legs, but Taylor didn’t budge. She leaned forward, her voice a fierce whisper. “This is for the green room.” She tightened her scissor hold, feeling Kendall’s resistance crumble. Within moments, Kendall’s body went limp, her hands falling to the carpet as she gasped out, “Okay… stop… please…”

Taylor held the grip a second longer, ensuring Kendall was truly defeated, then released her, standing tall on steady legs. Kendall slumped to the floor, clutching her sides, her once-arrogant smirk gone. Taylor adjusted her gown, her chest heaving but her spirit soaring. “One down,” she muttered, her eyes glinting with resolve as she stepped over Kendall’s prone form and slipped out of the lounge, ready for the next phase of her plan. Taylor hired staff to “help” Kendall aka get her secured out of the picture so the remaining fights could remain 1 on 1.

The gala continued, the crowd unaware of the battle that had just unfolded. Taylor’s mind was already on Kylie, who was likely mingling near the rooftop terrace, and Kim, holding court in the main ballroom. Two more to go, and Taylor’s trap was only beginning to close.

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Taylor Swift moved through the glittering gala, her silver gown shimmering under the chandeliers, her long blonde hair flowing with purpose. The thrill of defeating Kendall in the VIP lounge still pulsed through her, but her focus now zeroed in on Kylie Jenner, who was holding court on the rooftop terrace, unaware of the trap Taylor had set. The fake gala, orchestrated with Taylor’s vast resources, had perfectly split the Kardashian-Jenner sisters, and now it was time to settle the score with Kylie. The green room humiliation burned in Taylor’s memory—Kylie’s suffocating breast smothers and that final, degrading ass smother sandwiching her head with Kendall’s. Tonight, Taylor would turn Kylie’s greatest assets into her biggest liabilities.

The rooftop terrace was a sleek oasis of fairy lights and glass railings, the city skyline sprawling below. Kylie stood near the edge, her curvy figure poured into a tight gold dress that accentuated her chest and hips, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She laughed with a small group, her confidence radiating, oblivious to Taylor’s approach. Taylor signaled her discreet staff to clear the terrace, and within moments, the crowd thinned, leaving Kylie isolated. Taylor’s hazel eyes locked onto her target, her long legs striding forward with predatory intent.

Kylie’s eyes flicked up, her smirk fading as she saw Taylor. “Back for more, Swift?” she taunted, stepping away from the railing, her heels clicking on the stone floor. “You didn’t learn your lesson in the green room?”

Taylor’s lips curled into a cold smile, her dancer’s legs tensing beneath her gown. “Oh, I learned plenty, Kylie,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “Like how to make you cry like a bitch”

Kylie laughed, tossing her hair. “You can’t handle me, pop star. Weren’t you literally face first in my ass the last time we were in a room together? Let’s see you try.” She kicked off her heels, her curvy frame poised as she closed the distance, clearly planning to overpower Taylor with her signature smothering tactics.

Taylor was ready. She knew Kylie’s strategy—relying on her chest and backside to dominate—and she’d planned to exploit it. As Kylie lunged, aiming to wrap her arms around Taylor’s shoulders for a breast smother, Taylor ducked low, her agility outmatching Kylie’s bulkier movements. She drove her fist upward, targeting Kylie’s ample chest with a precise, punishing strike. Kylie gasped, stumbling back, her hands instinctively covering her chest as pain flashed across her face. “You bitch!” she spat, but Taylor was already moving.

“You like using these?” Taylor snarled, grabbing Kylie’s shoulders and delivering another sharp jab to her chest, turning Kylie’s prized assets into targets. Kylie yelped, her arms flailing, but Taylor’s dancer-honed speed kept her one step ahead. She spun behind Kylie, wrapping her long legs around Kylie’s waist in a tight scissor hold, pinning her arms to her sides. Kylie struggled, her curves shifting as she tried to break free, but Taylor’s thighs were relentless, squeezing hard to keep her grounded.

“Not so fun when you’re the punching bag, is it?” Taylor hissed, her voice raw with triumph. She shifted her grip, hooking one arm around Kylie’s neck while her other hand targeted Kylie’s hips, delivering a sharp slap to her backside—Kylie’s other weapon—before shoving her face-down onto the terrace floor. Kylie’s muffled cry echoed as Taylor pinned her, her knees pressing into Kylie’s lower back. “This is for the green room,” Taylor said, her tone icy as she grabbed a handful of Kylie’s hair and pulled, forcing her to arch backward.

Kylie thrashed, her curves heaving as she tried to roll free, but Taylor anticipated her move. She released the scissor hold only to swing her legs around, targeting Kylie’s backside again. With a swift motion, she slammed her heel into Kylie’s hips, eliciting a sharp scream. “You thought you could humiliate me?” Taylor growled, her long legs wrapping around Kylie’s midsection again, this time higher, crushing her ribs. Kylie’s gasps turned to whimpers, her hands clawing at Taylor’s thighs, but the pop star’s strength was unyielding.

Taylor leaned forward, her voice a fierce whisper. “Beg, Kylie. Beg like I had to.” She punctuated her words with another targeted strike to Kylie’s chest, making her wince. Kylie’s face reddened, her body trembling under the relentless assault. “Okay… please… stop!” she choked out, her voice breaking as tears streaked her makeup.

Taylor held the scissor a moment longer, ensuring Kylie’s defeat, then released her, standing tall on steady legs. Kylie collapsed, clutching her chest and hips, her once-confident demeanor shattered. Taylor adjusted her gown, her chest heaving but her eyes blazing with victory. “Two down,” she muttered, stepping over Kylie’s crumpled form as she headed back into the gala, her mind already on Kim Kardashian, the final piece of her revenge.

The terrace fell silent, save for Kylie’s ragged breaths. The gala’s music pulsed faintly below, the crowd oblivious to the battle that had just unfolded. Taylor’s trap was closing, and Kim was next.

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The grand ballroom of the faux gala pulsed with music and glittering lights, the perfect stage for Taylor Swift’s final act of vengeance. Her silver gown clung to her sweat-slicked frame, her long blonde hair slightly disheveled from her victories over Kendall and Kylie. Two sisters down, but the real war loomed—Kim Kardashian, the architect of Taylor’s public humiliations, awaited. Taylor’seyes burned with years of pent-up rage as she spotted Kim holding court near the center of the ballroom, her curvy figure commanding in a crimson dress that hugged every curve, her dark hair sleek and her presence radiating power. Taylor’s meticulously planned gala had isolated Kim, and now, with a subtle signal to her staff, the crowd parted, leaving a clear path to her nemesis.

Kim’s eyes locked onto Taylor’s, a knowing smirk curling her lips. “Taylor,” she purred, stepping forward, her heels clicking with authority. “You really thought you could pull this off? A fake gala to trap us? Cute, but you’re out of your league.”

Taylor’s jaw clenched, her long legs tensing beneath her gown. “You’ve been coming for me for years, Kim,” she said, her voice low and venomous. “Tonight, it ends.” The history between them—public feuds, leaked tapes, and the green room humiliation orchestrated by Kim’s sisters—fueled Taylor’s resolve. She knew Kim was the toughest, combining Kylie’s smothering prowess with a boxer’s raw power. This would be a war.

Kim laughed, kicking off her heels and tossing her hair. “Let’s see you try, Swift.” She lunged, her fists swinging with surprising speed and force, catching Taylor off guard. A powerful punch grazed Taylor’s cheek, sending her stumbling back. The ballroom’s polished floor became their battlefield, the distant music masking the sounds of their clash as the few remaining guests were ushered out by Taylor’s team.

Taylor fought back ducking under Kim’s next punch and landing a sharp kick to Kim’s thigh. Her long legs gave her reach, but Kim was a force, absorbing the blow and charging forward, her weight and strength overwhelming. She tackled Taylor to the ground, her curvy frame pinning Taylor’s shoulders as she unleashed a flurry of punches to Taylor’s ribs. Taylor gasped, her hands clawing at Kim’s arms, but Kim’s power was relentless. “You’re nothing,” Kim snarled, her fists hammering down as Taylor’s vision blurred, her body aching under the onslaught.

Kim shifted, using her body weight to dominate. She straddled Taylor’s chest, her curves pressing down, smothering Taylor’s face against her ample chest, echoing Kylie’s tactics but with even more force. Taylor’s muffled cries vibrated against Kim’s skin, her legs kicking wildly as she struggled for air. Kim’s weight was crushing, her thighs pinning Taylor’s arms, leaving her helpless. “This is what you get for crossing me,” Kim taunted, grinding her weight down, wearing Taylor out as the pop star’s strength faded.

Taylor’s mind raced, her body screaming for oxygen. She’d planned for this, studied Kim’s tactics, but Kim’s raw power was overwhelming. Still, years of rage fueled her defiance. With a desperate surge, Taylor twisted her hips, freeing one arm to slam a fist into Kim’s side. Kim grunted, her grip loosening just enough for Taylor to slip out, gasping for air as she rolled to her feet. “Not done yet,” Taylor panted, her legs shaky but her eyes blazing. She charged, her dancer’s speed returning as she tackled Kim, sending them both crashing into a velvet-draped table.

Taylor gained the upper hand, her long legs wrapping around Kim’s waist in a punishing scissor hold. Kim groaned, her hands clawing at Taylor’s thighs, but Taylor squeezed harder, her muscles bulging with effort. “This is for everything,” Taylor hissed, slamming a fist into Kim’s stomach, then another to her chest, turning Kim’s own assets against her. Kim’s face contorted, her breaths ragged, but she wasn’t finished. With a sudden buck of her hips, she broke Taylor’s hold, sending her sprawling.

Kim pounced, her weight crashing down on Taylor again. She maneuvered Taylor onto her back, sliding her curvy backside over Taylor’s face in a suffocating ass smother, just as Taylor had feared. Kim’s crimson dress rode up, her full weight pressing down, cutting off Taylor’s air completely. Taylor’s hands slapped uselessly at Kim’s hips, her legs kicking as her vision darkened. “Say goodnight, Swift,” Kim sneered, grinding down harder, her curves an unyielding weapon. All hope seemed lost, Taylor’s strength draining as the smother overwhelmed her.

In a final, desperate act, Taylor’s survival instinct kicked in. Her lips moved against Kim’s skin, a bold, shocking move—she began to kiss and nibble, targeting Kim’s most sensitive areas. Kim froze, her composure shattering as a gasp escaped her lips, her body trembling with unexpected sensation. The distraction was all Taylor needed. She slipped out from under Kim, her agility returning as she rolled to her feet, adrenaline surging. Kim, flustered and off-balance, tried to recover, but Taylor was a whirlwind of rage.

Taylor unleashed years of pent-up fury, her fists raining down on Kim’s stomach and chest, each strike precise and punishing. She grabbed Kim’s hair, yanking her head back, and drove a knee into her midsection.  Taylor bent Kim over a railing and stood behind looking at her infamous large ass bent over, Taylor took in the view as she loaded up a brutal kick right into Kim’s backside, Kim was in so much pain but she couldn’t move, Taylor even had to shake her leg and get the blood flowing she couldn’t believe how hard that kick landed.

 Kim doubled over, gasping, as Taylor wrapped her long legs around Kim’s torso again, squeezing with every ounce of strength. “You’re done,” Taylor snarled, her thighs crushing Kim’s ribs as she slammed her to the floor. Kim’s hands flailed, her once-confident smirk gone, replaced by a look of panic.

“Stop… please…” Kim choked out, her voice weak, her body limp under Taylor’s relentless hold. Taylor tightened her scissor grip, her eyes blazing with triumph. “Say it,” she demanded. “Say you’re sorry for everything.”

“I’m sorry!” Kim gasped, tears streaking her face as she went limp, her hands falling to the floor in surrender. Taylor held the grip a moment longer, ensuring Kim’s defeat, then released her, standing tall on trembling legs. Kim slumped, clutching her sides, her crimson dress disheveled, her empire shattered.

Taylor adjusted her gown, her chest heaving as she towered over Kim. “Don’t ever come for me again,” she said coldly, her voice echoing in the empty ballroom. She turned, striding toward the exit, her long legs carrying her with the fire of a woman who’d just buried her past. The gala was over, and Taylor had won the war.

The ballroom fell silent, save for Kim’s ragged breaths. Taylor stepped into the night, her fierce smile returning. The stage of her life awaited, and she’d perform with the power of a woman reborn.

————————————————————

I had a lot of fun playing around with this one. I prefer more realistic grounded confrontations but this fantastical revenge style setup of Taylor splitting them up and then running the gauntlet was a lot of fun. 

[Lostchris]

Kirsten Dunst vs Emma Roberts

The sun beat down on the Hamptons, the salty breeze carrying the hum of summer life as Kirsten Dunst pushed through her chaotic morning. Work calls piled up, her kids were a whirlwind of energy, and the weight of it all pressed on her like a storm cloud. Desperate for a break, she called a babysitter to her sprawling beach house to watch her two boys, freeing her for a few hours of solitude. Dressed in a flowing white sundress with delicate straps, her blonde hair loosely tied back, Kirsten drove into town, craving a coffee and some quiet on the beach.

At the bustling coffee shop, the line snaked toward the counter, the air thick with the scent of roasted beans and impatience. Kirsten stood at the front, her phone buzzing with yet another call, her focus slipping as she juggled the conversation and her order. Behind her, the line grew restless, murmurs turning to grumbles. A sharp voice cut through the noise from the back. “Hurry the fuck up, lady!” it snapped, dripping with irritation. That voice belonged to Emma Roberts, clad in a sleek black maxi dress, her arms crossed and her patience razor-thin. Emma was in a rush to get back to her beach day, and this delay was testing her last nerve.

Kirsten’s jaw tightened, the day’s frustrations boiling over. That voice—shrill, entitled—was the final straw. Without turning, she fired back, her tone low and venomous. “To the bitch who told me to hurry up, I’m grabbing my drink, and then I’ll be waiting for you in the alley.” The shop fell silent, heads turning, but Kirsten didn’t care. She grabbed her iced latte, her hands trembling with rage, and stormed out through the alleyway to the parking lot.

Halfway through the narrow alley, she stopped short. Emma Roberts stood in the middle, arms folded, a smug chuckle escaping her lips. “Oh, it’s the old lady from the Spider-Man movies, didn’t those come out like 40 years ago?,” Emma taunted, her hazel eyes glinting with malice. Kirsten’s blue eyes narrowed, her voice steady but laced with fury. “You gonna move, or do I have to make you?”

Emma smirked, stepping closer, her black dress swaying. “Bring it.”

The fight was on. Kirsten, fueled by pent-up frustration, charged first, grabbing Emma’s dark hair and yanking her forward. Emma yelped, clawing at Kirsten’s arms, her nails digging into the older actress’s skin. They stumbled against the alley wall, Kirsten landing a sharp slap across Emma’s cheek, leaving a red mark. “You little brat!” Kirsten growled, her white dress fluttering as she shoved Emma back. Emma’s back hit the brick wall, but she recovered fast, her younger agility kicking in. “You’re past your prime, Kirsten!” she spat, lunging forward and tackling Kirsten to the ground.

Kirsten hit the pavement hard, her white dress smudged with dirt, but she fought back fiercely, rolling Emma over and pinning her down. She landed a flurry of slaps, her hands a blur as Emma squirmed beneath her. “I’ve been through worse than you, kid!” Kirsten snarled, her maternal grit shining through. She grabbed Emma’s dress, tearing a strap as she yanked, exposing Emma’s shoulder. *I’m dominating her,* Kirsten thought, her confidence surging. With her left hand Kirsten had control of Emma’s head and delivered a brutal slap with her right.

But Emma wasn’t done. She went to pull down tbe front of Kirsten’s dress and as Kirsten went to defend Emma, Emma powered out of the pin throwing Kirsten off and scrambling to her feet. “You’re slow and weak, old lady!” Emma taunted, her black dress now torn at the hem, revealing toned legs. She launched herself at Kirsten, landing a punch to her stomach that made Kirsten gasp. Emma seized the moment, grabbing Kirsten’s hair and slamming her against a dumpster, the metal clanging. Kirsten groaned, her thoughts racing. *If I wasn’t a mom of two, this would be a fairer fight.*

Emma took control, her younger stamina outpacing Kirsten’s. She landed a vicious knee to Kirsten’s midsection, doubling her over, then followed with a slap that echoed in the alley. Kirsten’s white dress was now streaked with grime, one strap slipping off her shoulder, but she refused to give in. “I’m not done!” Kirsten gasped, swinging wildly, her fist grazing Emma’s jaw. Emma laughed, dodging easily. “You’re pathetic,” she sneered, grabbing Kirsten’s arms and twisting them behind her back.

Emma shoved Kirsten face-first against the dumpster, pinning her there as she unleashed a barrage of hammerfists to Kirsten’s back and sides. Kirsten struggled, her breaths ragged, but Emma was relentless, her hands finding Kirsten’s hair again and yanking her head back. “Say you quit!” Emma demanded, her voice sharp. Kirsten, her face flushed with pain and defiance, spat, “Never.” Emma’s eyes flashed with cruelty. “Fine, then.” Emma grabbed Kirsten and slammed her head first into the dumpster 6 times, Kirsten was all but done after the brutal assault.

With a final surge, Emma spun Kirsten around, landing a brutal punch to her jaw. Kirsten’s vision blurred, her knees buckling as she slumped to the ground, her white dress pooling around her. Emma stood over her, panting, her black dress torn but her victory clear. She grabbed Kirsten’s limp form, dragging her to the side of the alley and tossing her down beside a pile of trash bags. “Stay down with the rest of the garbage, Spider-lady,” Emma sneered, Emma went and picked up Kirstens drink that started this whole fight, sipped and spit out on Kirsten’s defeated body “You’re drink sucks, order something else and fucking order it quicker for christ’s sake” Emma said as she poured the drink over Kirsten’s dress. With that Emma tossed the cup and walked away brushing her hands off leaving Kirsten unconscious in the dirt.

Kirsten lay there, her white dress tattered and stained, her pride battered and her day ruined.

[Lostchris]

Zoe Kravitz vs Jurnee Smollett

The conference room at Warner Brothers Discovery’s Los Angeles headquarters was a sterile battleground, its mahogany table pushed to one side, chairs scattered. The air was thick with tension as Zoe Kravitz and Jurnee Smollett faced each other, their personal animosity having brought production of their film—Zoe’s directorial passion project—to a grinding halt. The studio, crippled by recent box office flops, couldn’t afford to buy out either woman’s ironclad contract, so a desperate producer named Greg had proposed a brutal solution: a no-holds-barred fight, right here, right now. The loser would tear up their contract, effectively removing themselves from the project.

Zoe stood on one side of the room, her heart pounding with a mix of rage and determination. She wore a sheer white blouse, the sparkly bralette underneath glinting faintly, paired with a tight black skirt that reached her knees. Her layered necklaces and bracelet felt heavy, a reminder of the elegance she’d brought to this meeting, but now they seemed like liabilities. Her braids were pulled back tightly, and her mind raced. *This is my film, my vision. I’ve poured everything into this—years of dreaming, planning, fighting for this chance. I can’t let her take it from me. She’s just an actress, a replaceable piece. I’m the director. I’m the heart of this.* Her eyes locked onto Jurnee, her jaw clenching as she sized her up.

Across from her, Jurnee stood with a steely calm, her wavy hair loose around her shoulders, her white button-up shirt tucked into a shorter black skirt that gave her legs room to move. A chunky gold bracelet gleamed on her wrist, and she adjusted it absentmindedly as her thoughts churned. *She thinks she’s untouchable, doesn’t she? Thinks she can rewrite my character, control me, make me into something I’m not. I’ve worked too hard to be disrespected like this. This role—it’s my breakout, my chance to show the world what I can do. I’m not backing down, not for her, not for anyone.* Her gaze met Zoe’s, and she felt a surge of adrenaline. She was ready.

Greg, the producer, stood between them, his voice trembling as he reiterated the rules. “No holds barred. The winner stays, the loser tears up their contract. Are you both sure?” Zoe and Jurnee nodded, their eyes never leaving each other. The studio heads stepped back, and the fight began.

Zoe struck first, lunging forward with a guttural yell, her nails slashing across Jurnee’s cheek. The sharp sting made Jurnee flinch, but she retaliated instantly, grabbing Zoe’s blouse and yanking hard. The sheer fabric tore with a loud rip, buttons popping off and skittering across the floor, exposing the sparkly bralette underneath. Zoe’s mind raced as she felt the fabric give way. *Damn it, I should’ve worn something sturdier. But I’m not here to look practical—I’m here to win.* She grabbed a fistful of Jurnee’s wavy hair, pulling with all her might, dragging Jurnee down toward the floor. Jurnee’s head jerked back, pain shooting through her scalp, but she thought, *She’s fighting dirty already. Fine. Two can play that game.* She slapped Zoe hard across the face, the crack echoing in the room, and yanked at Zoe’s braids in return, the two women stumbling into the conference table.

The table rocked as they collided with it, Zoe’s tight skirt splitting at the seam with a sharp tear, restricting her movements. She shoved Jurnee back, her nails digging into Jurnee’s shoulder, tearing at her button-up shirt. Buttons flew, the shirt gaping open to reveal Jurnee’s bra, and Jurnee’s skirt rode up as she stumbled. Jurnee’s thoughts were a whirlwind of fury. *She’s trying to humiliate me, ripping my clothes like this..* Zoe was relentless trying to tear off Jurnee’s bra, Jurnee wasn’t having it grabbing Zoe’s arms and forcing her back against the window, Zoe stomp on Jurnee’s foot and managed to escape being pinned, Zoe scrambled away but as she turned around Jurnee tackled Zoe to the ground, straddling her and landing a solid punch to Zoe’s jaw. Zoe’s head snapped to the side, pain exploding in her face, but she thought, *I’m not done yet. This is my dream. I’ll fight until I can’t anymore.*

Zoe bucked beneath Jurnee, managing to roll her off, and the two scrambled to their feet, their outfits in tatters. Zoe’s bralette was barely hanging on, one strap torn, and her skirt was shredded, barely covering her thighs. Jurnee’s stood only in her bra, her skirt hiked up to her hips. They circled each other, panting, their accessories becoming hazards—Zoe’s necklaces snapped, beads scattering across the floor, and Jurnee’s bracelet caught on Zoe’s bralette, ripping it clean off. Zoe stood there, topless except for the remnants of her blouse, her chest heaving as she thought, *I don’t care if I’m half-naked. I’m not losing this. She won’t break me.*

The fight grew more vicious. Jurnee grabbed Zoe’s braids again, pulling her down and kneeing her in the stomach. Zoe gasped, the air knocked out of her, but she retaliated by clawing at Jurnee’s face, leaving red welts. Jurnee screamed, her own hands finding Zoe’s hair and yanking hard, the two of them tumbling to the floor again. They traded slaps, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths ragged. Zoe got to her feet first and charged but Jurnee was ready and made a perfect form tackle.  Jurnee managed to pin Zoe down, her knees on either side of Zoe’s torso, and she pressed her weight down, attempting a face sit, partially to  force a submission but Jurnee couldn’t there wasn’t something totally satisfying about planting her ass on the face of the woman who has made her life hell. Zoe’s face was smothered, her muffled cries barely audible as she thought, *No—no, I can’t let her do this. This is my project, my everything. I won’t let her humiliate me like this.*

With a surge of adrenaline, Zoe fought harder, her hands clawing at Jurnee’s thighs, leaving deep scratches. She managed to shove Jurnee off, rolling to the side and scrambling to her feet. . Zoe, her body aching, her outfit in ruins, charged at Jurnee with renewed fury, tackling her against the window. The glass shuddered but held as Zoe slammed Jurnee’s head against it, her hands wrapping around Jurnee’s throat. *I’ll choke her out if I have to. I’m not losing this film,* Zoe thought, her vision blurring with exhaustion and rage. Zoe pressing her body against Jurnee used one hand to choke and the other to rake Jurnee’s eyes. Jurnee shrieked in pain and that’s when Zoe flipped her around pressing her face into the window. “Won’t do a nude scene, why don’t you show the whole city what you’ve been hiding you prude bitch” Zoe said as she ripped off Jurnee’s bra and exposed her breasts. Zoe leaned in more pressing Jurnee up against the glass, Jurnee’s breasts being smushed on the window. *Clang* was the noise of Jurnee’s forehead banging off the window, Zoe turning her around again. “You think you’re hot shit with those big titties, here bitch mine are perfectly able to put you to sleep” said Zoe as she attempted a smother.

Jurnee’s hands flailed, her nails raking at Zoe’s arms, drawing blood. *She’s not giving up—she’s fighting like a cornered animal. But I’m not done, I’m not getting smothered out by this nepo baby bitch,* Jurnee thought, her own determination flaring. Jurnee decided to get dirty, Zoe was using her arms to keep Jurnee’s shoulders pinned, but doing this allowed Jurnee free use of her hands, which she used to grab at Zoe’s crotch. Zoe held firm at first, gritting her teeth and trying to keep the smother in but after some twisting and squeezing the pain became too much she pulled back on the smother and went to grab at Jurnee’s talons giving Jurnee the opening she needed. She drove her knee into Zoe’s stomach, forcing Zoe to release her grip, and followed with a sharp elbow to Zoe’s temple. Zoe staggered, her vision swimming, but she swung wildly, her fist connecting with Jurnee’s cheek. The two women collapsed to the floor again, a tangle of limbs and torn fabric, their energy nearly spent.

Zoe got up, squatted over and Jurnee and said “Now it’s for you to do what you should have been doing since you got cast in my movie and kiss my ass” Jurnee, with the last of her strength, managed to kick out  Zoe’s leg, Zoe doing an awkward split, Jurnee locked in a rear naked choke, Zoe started gagging knowing she was in serious trouble, she started thrashing her legs around, Jurnee was unable to scissor her. Zoe managed to roll but Jurnee rolled with her and pinned Zoe down once more, this time securing her arms under her knees. Zoe thrashed, her body screaming in protest, but she couldn’t break free. Jurnee, her face bruised, her hair a mess, leaned down, her voice low and triumphant. “It’s over, Zoe. You’re done.” She pressed her weight down again, smothering Zoe with her impressive breasts. Zoe’s struggles weakened, her thoughts a jumbled mess of despair. *I can’t—I can’t lose this. But I can’t… I can’t move…* Her body went limp, and she tapped the floor, signaling her surrender.

The studio heads, who had watched in horrified silence, handed Jurnee a copy of Zoe’s contract. Jurnee, stood over Zoe, who lay on the floor, her outfit destroyed, her spirit broken. Jurnee planted herself on Zoe’s face and mocked Zoe by reading the salary of this lucrative deal. Finally after having her fun Jurnee tore the contract into pieces, letting the scraps fall onto Zoe’s trembling form. “Get out,” Jurnee said, her voice cold, her own body aching but victorious.

Zoe, tears mixing with the sweat on her face, gathered the remnants of her clothing and staggered out of the room, her dream project slipping through her fingers. Jurnee, battered but unbowed, turned to the studio heads, ready to take control of the film—her film, now.

[Lostchris]

The Swiftie Squad Assembles

Since she sprung the Trap Gala things have been great for Taylor, she took a much needed vacation, healed her battle wounds and was back to doing what she loved, performing music. While things have been going good but they haven’t been back to normal. Taylor has become more private, randomly appearing at an occasional festival, popping in on a friendly singers concert to do a song for fun. Even though she handled her business she knew those Kardashians were still out there, probably wanted revenge and would anything to get it. Taylor was in bed doing some average doom scrolling she got a message that started to autoplay, it was a livefeed of herself. Freaked out Taylor sprung up searching around for either a person or the camera, she heard a creak and turned quickly before was knocked down and heard some chatter. Taylor felt someone plant a knee in her back while someone else put their foot down on her head. Before Taylor could realize it she was being handcuffed and brought up to her knees to see who else but those damn Kardashians and Jenners. This time it was the 3 Kardashian sisters and the 2 Jenner girls all together. Kim of course spoke for them, “Hi-ya Taylor, I’m gonna keep things simple. You’re either gonna accept our challenge or we’re gonna destroy you on this camera feed and sell it to TMZ… your choice.”  Taylor could only imagine what bullshit these bimbos came up with but whatever it was she’d have to swallow her pride and accept it rather than literally get the shit beat out of her and the evidence sold to the highest bidder. “Even if I do accept what stops you from beating me after I sign it” Taylor mouthed off. “Believe me we’ll want you in one piece for this, sign this and we’re all gonna make a lot of money and we’ll be able to put you down for good”. “Taylor read the contract. It was simple, Taylor’s team of 5 against the Kardashian’s team, 5 on 5 fight live on PPV. The few clips and leaks of the previous encounters have been the biggest story on the internet, it didn’t surprise Taylor the gold digging Kardashians would want to cash in on this. The financial terms were lucrative and it’s not exactly like she was given a fair choice here.  “Fine you’re on” said Taylor, she was uncuffed by Kendall who tried to intimidate Taylor who was unfazed as she signed the agreement. “See you next month,” said Kim as they left.

Now it was time to assemble the Swiftie Squad, Taylor knew people would assume she would look to her squad from her bad blood days but she’s grown apart from those girls and when facing an enemy as powerful as the Kardashian Empire, Taylor needed to get the most loyal of her friends but also ones that could fight. An obvious choice for Taylor was Selena Gomez, a true friend and as tough as they come.  Taylor also got Blake Lively who even though she’s keeping at a distance, a rumble with her nemesis is a good way to come back into the fold plus Blake brings another strong physical body like Taylor’s. Another more recent addition to Taylor’s circle, Taylor recruited Sophie Turner. Ever since divorcing Joe Jonas Sophie has gotten a ton of support from Taylor and now was the time to help pay that back. Also helps Sophie has been training for the role of Lara Croft and is in immaculate shape. Taylor had some choices for this pick. She could go an old friend like Gigi Hadid but she has some weird connections to the Jenners, Zoe Kravitz is a longtime friend but she had some sort of problem during her last movie shoot and hasn’t been in touch. Taylor decided to go with Margaret Qualley who marrying one of jer most trusted allies and friends Jack Antonoff, Margaret seemed interested in wanting to neutralize Kylie what was music to Taylor’s ears.

The sprawling mansion in the heart of Los Angeles stood as a glittering fortress of opulence, its sprawling grounds and towering glass walls a perfect stage for the night’s pay-per-view spectacle. The air crackled with tension as cameras, mounted in every corner of the lavish estate, hummed to life, ready to capture every moment of the brutal showdown between Taylor Swift’s team and the Kardashian-Jenner squad. The living room, with its polished marble floors and towering chandelier, had been cleared for the fight, the furniture shoved aside to make way for the chaos about to unfold. Outside, the city lights of LA shimmered in the distance, but inside, the atmosphere was primal, electric, and raw.

Taylor Swift and her Swiftie Squad stood in a tight semicircle, their bodies glistening under the lights in their matching black bikinis. Taylor, her long blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, exuded steely determination, her 5'11 frame lean and toned from months of training. Beside her, Selena Gomez, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, cracked her knuckles, her petite but fierce 5'5 frame ready for battle. Blake Lively, statuesque at 5'10 with her blonde waves loose, flexed her arms, her athletic build a testament to her physical strength. Sophie Turner, her red hair tied back, stood at 5'9, her body sculpted from her recent training for a Lara Croft role, her green eyes blazing with intensity. Finally, Margaret Qualley, her brunette hair in a messy bun, shifted on her feet at 5'8, her dancer’s physique coiled with energy, eager to take on Kylie Jenner as she’d promised.

Across the room, the Kardashian-Jenner team entered with a calculated swagger, their presence commanding attention. Kim Kardashian led the pack, her 5'2 frame curvaceous in a silver bikini, her dark hair sleek and straight, a smirk playing on her lips. Behind her, Kylie Jenner, 5'6 with her raven hair in a high ponytail, adjusted her red bikini top, her eyes locked on Margaret with a predatory glint. Kendall Jenner, the tallest at 5'10, strode in with a gold bikini that hugged her model physique, her long legs and sharp features radiating confidence. Taylor stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension. “Where are the other two?” she yelled, her blue eyes narrowing at Kim.

Kim laughed, tossing her hair. “Oh, they’re not coming. We sisters stick together, but we weren’t about to let you beat up poor little Kourtney, and Khloe isn’t the enforcer she used to be. So they each picked a champion to fight in their place.” She gestured to Brittany Mahomes, a late addition to the team, stood at 5'9, her blonde hair tied back, her soccer-honed body tense in a navy bikini, her betrayal of Taylor still fresh. Finally, Hailey Bieber, 5'7 with her blonde hair in a sleek bun, wore a white bikini, her gaze fixed on Selena with a burning hatred that promised violence.

 “Let’s get this started, Swift. You’re going down.”

The ten women squared up, the tension snapping like a taut wire as the cameras zoomed in. The fight erupted in an instant, a chaotic explosion of fists, screams, and tearing fabric as the two teams collided.

Taylor eyed up Kim but it was Kendall who went right after Taylor, the two tallest women locking eyes in mutual hatred. “What you didn’t get enough of me the last two times?!” Taylor snarled, grabbing Kendall’s hair and yanking her down. Kendall retaliated with a vicious slap across Taylor’s face, her nails leaving red welts. “I’ll break you, Swift!” Kendall hissed, driving her knee into Taylor’s stomach. The two stumbled, clawing at each other, their bikinis straining as they grappled. Taylor ripped at Kendall’s gold bikini top, tearing it off and exposing her, while Kendall tore Taylor’s black bikini bottom, leaving her bare. The crowd watching the live feed gasped as the two women, now naked, rolled across the marble floor, their bodies slick with sweat. In a flash, they maneuvered into a 69 position, each locking the other’s head between their thighs in a brutal headscissor. “I’ll crush you first!” Taylor growled, her thighs flexing as she squeezed Kendall’s head, her face pressed against Kendall’s core. Kendall, gasping, tightened her own hold, her long legs clamping down on Taylor’s neck. “Not if I break you first, bitch!” she spat, her voice muffled. It became a test of might, both women trembling with the effort, their faces red as they fought to outlast the other, the cameras capturing every agonizing second.

Meanwhile, Selena and Hailey collided with a ferocity that sent shockwaves through the room. “I’ve been waiting to ruin you, Gomez!” Hailey spat, her hands immediately targeting Selena’s chest. She grabbed Selena’s black bikini top, ripping it off in one brutal yank, and sank her nails into Selena’s breasts, mauling them with savage intensity. Selena screamed, her dark eyes flashing with pain and rage as Hailey twisted and clawed, drawing blood. “You’ll never look the same after I’m done with you!” Hailey taunted, slamming her knee into Selena’s stomach while continuing her assault on her chest. Selena’s breasts were a mess of red welts and scratches, blood trickling down her torso, but she fought back, landing a punch to Hailey’s jaw that sent her staggering. “You’ll pay for that, Bieber!” Selena growled, tackling Hailey to the ground and slamming her fists into her face, blood spraying from Hailey’s split lip.

Blake Lively charged at Kim, her height advantage clear as she towered over the reality star. “You’ve been a thorn in my side for too long, Kardashian!” Blake roared, grabbing Kim by the shoulders and slamming her against the wall with a thud that echoed through the room. Kim grunted, her silver bikini top slipping as she clawed at Blake’s arms, her manicured nails leaving bloody scratches. “You’re nothing without your squad, Lively!” Kim sneered, driving her heel into Blake’s shin with a sharp jab. Blake winced, her leg buckling slightly, but she didn’t let go, instead delivering a vicious uppercut to Kim’s jaw that snapped her head back, a trickle of blood running from her mouth. Kim’s eyes flashed with rage as she tore at Blake’s bikini top, ripping it off and exposing her. “I’ll make you bleed for that!” Kim screamed, sinking her nails into Blake’s chest, leaving angry red marks that welled with blood. Blake hissed in pain, her face contorting, but she shoved Kim back, pinning her against the wall and driving her knee into Kim’s stomach. “Not if I break you first, you manipulative bitch!” Blake snarled, slamming her fist into Kim’s cheek, bruising the skin instantly. Kim’s head rocked to the side, but she grabbed Blake’s hair, yanking her down and sinking her teeth into Blake’s shoulder, drawing a scream as blood seeped from the bite.

At the same time, Margaret Qualley zeroed in on Kylie, her promise to neutralize her driving her forward. “You’re mine, Jenner!” Margaret shouted, her dancer’s agility giving her an edge as she dodged Kylie’s initial swing and grabbed her by the hair. Kylie’s red bikini top was already askew as she lunged back, snarling, “I’ll make you wish you never signed that contract, Qualley!” She yanked Margaret’s head back, her nails raking across Margaret’s scalp, drawing thin lines of blood. Margaret retaliated with a swift kick to Kylie’s thigh, the impact making Kylie stumble, her face twisting in pain. Margaret didn’t let up, tearing at Kylie’s bikini top and exposing her, then driving her elbow into Kylie’s jaw with a crack. “You’re not as tough as you think!” Margaret taunted, her voice fierce as she grabbed Kylie’s arm, twisting it behind her back. Kylie screamed, her free hand clawing at Margaret’s face, leaving bloody scratches across her cheek. “I’ll ruin you!” Kylie spat, managing to break free and slamming her fist into Margaret’s stomach, doubling her over with a gasp. The two women grappled, their bodies slick with sweat and blood, their bikinis reduced to shredded scraps as they tore at each other with unrelenting fury.

The chaos escalated as the fights intersected. Blake, still grappling with Kim, shoved her hard, sending Kim stumbling backward—straight into Margaret, who was in the middle of choking Kylie with a headlock. The collision sent all three women crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs, their screams echoing as they scrambled to regain control. Kim, now free from Blake’s grip, turned her fury on Margaret, grabbing her hair and yanking her head back. “You’re in my way, Qualley!” Kim hissed, slamming her fist into Margaret’s nose, breaking it with a sickening pop. Blood gushed down Margaret’s face, her eyes watering as she gasped in pain. “Fuck you, Kardashian!” Margaret roared, swinging blindly and catching Kim in the mouth, splitting her lip and sending a spray of blood across the marble floor.

Kylie, freed from Margaret’s hold, turned on Blake, tackling her from behind and sinking her nails into Blake’s back, leaving deep, bloody furrows. “You’re next, Lively!” Kylie screamed, her voice raw with fury. Blake howled, spinning around and grabbing Kylie by the throat. “Get off me, you little snake!” Blake snarled, slamming Kylie face-first into the floor, her nose smashing against the marble with a crunch, blood pooling beneath her. Kylie moaned, her hands scrabbling weakly, but Blake wasn’t done, driving her knee into Kylie’s lower back with a force that made Kylie’s body convulse in pain. Kylie, battered and bloodied, crawled away, her breath ragged, but her eyes burned with a promise of vengeance.

Margaret, her face a mask of blood from her broken nose, refocused on Kim, tackling her to the ground. “You’ll pay for that!” Margaret growled, her hands wrapping around Kim’s throat as she squeezed, Kim’s face turning red as she clawed at Margaret’s arms, her nails drawing more blood. Kim gasped for air, her voice raspy as she choked out a desperate plea, her eyes darting to Blake, who was catching her breath nearby. “Blake… I can make… all your troubles with Baldoni go away… did you read my proposal, I have his confession all on tape. It’s yours if you leave now ” Kim’s words were strained, her voice barely above a whisper, but they hit Blake like a lightning bolt. Margaret, her grip tightening, snapped, “Shut the fuck up, Kim!” her voice dripping with rage.

But Blake’s expression shifted, a flicker of doubt crossing her blood-streaked face. Without warning, she lunged forward, her foot swinging in a brutal arc that connected with Margaret’s ribs, a sickening crack echoing as the kick sent Margaret sprawling to the side, gasping for air. Kim rolled free, coughing and clutching her throat, a sly smile curling her bloodied lips as she watched Margaret writhe in pain. Blake stood over them, her chest heaving, her voice cold. “Tell me where” . Kim still recovering daid “manilla envelope in the mailbox”. Blake turned on her heel, her blonde hair swinging as she walked away, leaving the chaos behind, her face unreadable but her actions speaking volumes.

Kim, still smiling despite the blood dripping from her lip, pushed herself to her knees, her silver bikini in tatters. She glanced across the room, catching Kylie’s eye. Kylie, who had been crawling toward the edge of the fray, her nose broken and her body bruised, perked up at the sight of Margaret on the ground. A wicked gleam sparked in her eyes as she dragged herself over, her movements slow but determined. “My turn,” Kylie rasped, her voice thick with malice as she reached Margaret, who was still clutching her ribs, her breathing shallow from Blake’s betrayal.

Kylie pounced, straddling Margaret and grabbing her hair with both hands. “You thought you could take me down, Qualley?” Kylie hissed, slamming Margaret’s head against the marble floor with a sickening thud. Margaret groaned, her vision swimming, but she tried to fight back, her hands weakly clawing at Kylie’s arms, drawing thin lines of blood. Kylie laughed darkly, her red bikini bottom long gone, her body smeared with sweat and blood. “You’re nothing!” she spat, driving her fist into Margaret’s already broken nose, eliciting a scream as fresh blood poured down Margaret’s face. Kylie’s hands moved to Margaret’s throat, squeezing with a ferocity that made Margaret’s eyes bulge, her gasps for air growing desperate. “I’m going to enjoy this,” Kylie whispered, her voice dripping with sadistic glee as she released her grip and planted her perfect ass on Margaret’s face, totally engulfing it. Kyle began rocking and grinding, really going to town on the poor actresses. Kylie's face was pure ecstasy as she sadistically humiliated the woman she just bloodied the cameras zooming in on Margaret’s struggling form.

Back in the center of the room, Taylor and Kendall’s headscissor battle reached its climax. Both women were gasping for air, their thighs trembling as they squeezed with all their might. Taylor’s face was flushed, her vision blurring, but she refused to give in. “Tap out, Jenner!” she hissed, her voice strained, every muscle in her long luscious legs tightening. Kendall, her own face red and contorted, shook her head weakly. “Never… Swift…” she choked out, but her strength was fading faster. Kendall tightening her own legs squeezing hard but jt felt like it wasn’t doing anything, she’d never admit it but Taylor’s scissors felt like a metal vice and Kendall understood now she didn’t match up. With a final, desperate squeeze, Taylor forced a scream from Kendall’s lips, and the model’s body went limp, her legs loosening as she passed out from the pressure. Taylor rolled away, panting, her body slick with sweat and blood, her victory over Kendall a small but significant win in the chaos.

Sophie Turner, her red hair tied back, faced off against Brittany Mahomes, the traitor whose betrayal stung deep. At 5'9, Sophie’s body was sculpted from her Lara Croft training, her green eyes blazing with fury. Brittany, 5'9 and clad in a navy bikini, her blonde hair tied back, relied on her soccer-honed athleticism, sneering, “You’re out of your league, Turner!”

The fight erupted with Sophie charging forward, her training evident as she landed a precise kick to Brittany’s ribs, making her grunt. Brittany retaliated, tackling Sophie to the ground, her fists slamming into Sophie’s stomach. “I’ll show you what a real athlete can do!” Brittany hissed, splitting Sophie’s lip with a sharp elbow to the jaw. Sophie’s bikini top tore off in the scuffle, but she roared back, wrapping her legs around Brittany’s waist in a crushing grip. “You picked the wrong side!” Sophie growled, slamming her fist into Brittany’s nose, breaking it with a sickening crunch. Blood poured down Brittany’s face as she screamed, clawing at Sophie’s thighs, but Sophie’s strength was relentless. She twisted Brittany’s arm behind her back, wrenching it until a snap echoed through the room, Brittany’s agonized scream signaling her defeat. Sophie shoved her down, leaving Brittany sobbing on the floor, her arm useless, as Sophie stood victorious, her chest heaving with exertion.

Selena, despite the agony in her mauled chest, gained the upper hand on Hailey, pinning her down and slamming her head against the marble floor. “You’re done, Bieber!” Selena snarled, her fists pummeling Hailey’s face. To say Selena hated Hailey  would be an understatement, Selena was so overcome with emotion beating down the woman who tried to ruin her life, she paused to really soak it in. Selena was ready to help out Taylor thinking she dispatched Hailey but Hailey, fueled by a burning hatred, wasn’t finished. With a sudden burst of energy, she bucked her hips, throwing Selena off balance and rolling them over so she was on top.

“You thought you had me, Gomez?” Hailey rasped, her voice thick with venom as she straddled Selena’s chest, pinning her arms under her knees. Selena struggled, her dark eyes wide with defiance, but Hailey was relentless. She shifted her weight, sliding backward until her hips hovered over Selena’s face, her white bikini bottom barely clinging to her body. “Let’s see how you like this!” Hailey sneered, lowering herself onto Selena’s face in a brutal ass smother, her weight pressing down hard. Selena’s muffled screams echoed as she thrashed beneath Hailey, her legs kicking wildly, but Hailey held firm, grinding down with sadistic glee. “Night-night, bitch,” Hailey taunted, her hands gripping Selena’s hair to keep her in place. Selena’s struggles weakened, her body going limp as the lack of air took its toll, her eyes rolling back as she passed out cold beneath Hailey’s smothering hold. Hailey stood up, panting, wiping the blood from her lip with a triumphant smirk, leaving Selena unconscious on the floor, her face smeared with sweat and blood.

The living room of the Los Angeles mansion, already a warzone of shattered glass and blood-streaked marble, became the final arena for the brutal showdown. The cameras, unblinking, captured every moment as the last fighters squared off: Taylor Swift and Sophie Turner against Kim Kardashian, Kylie Jenner, and Hailey Bieber. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the ragged breathing of the combatants, their bodies battered but their spirits unyielding. The city lights of LA glittered outside, a stark contrast to the primal chaos within.

Taylor, her blonde hair matted with sweat, stood at 5'11, her lean frame covered in scratches and bruises, her black bikini long gone. Beside her, Sophie, 5'9 with her red hair loose and wild, her black bikini bottom barely clinging to her, flexed her toned arms, her green eyes fierce with determination. Across from them, Kim, 5'2, her silver bikini in tatters, smirked despite her split lip, her dark hair a mess. Kylie, 5'6, her red bikini scraps barely covering her, her nose broken and bloodied, stood with a predatory glint. Hailey, 5'7, her white bikini stained with blood, her blonde bun fraying, cracked her knuckles, fresh from her victory over Selena.

Kim stepped forward, her voice a low, mocking hiss. “Last chance, Swift. Bow out, or we’ll bury you.” Taylor’s blue eyes blazed with defiance. “You’ll have to kill me first, Kardashian,” she spat, her voice raw but unyielding. Sophie nodded, her stance solid from her Lara Croft training. “We’ve taken down worse than you,” she growled, her tone icy.

Kylie laughed, a dark, guttural sound. “I’m going to break you both,” she sneered, her broken nose not slowing her down. Hailey, wiping blood from her lip, added, “I took out Gomez, and you’re next.” The tension snapped like a taut wire, and the fight erupted with feral intensity.

Taylor charged at Kim, her height advantage clear as she aimed a vicious kick at Kim’s midsection. Kim dodged, her smaller frame agile, and retaliated by grabbing Taylor’s leg, twisting it to throw her off balance. “You’re too slow, Swift!” Kim taunted, slamming her elbow into Taylor’s thigh, making her stumble. Taylor grunted, pain shooting through her leg, but she spun around, catching Kim with a backhanded slap that split her cheek open, blood spraying across the marble. “Not slow enough!” Taylor hissed, tackling Kim to the ground, their bodies rolling as they clawed at each other, nails drawing fresh blood.

Sophie targeted Kylie, her training giving her an edge as she lunged with a precise strike, aiming for Kylie’s already broken nose. “Let’s see how you like this, Jenner!” Sophie snarled, her fist connecting with a sickening crunch, making Kylie scream as more blood poured down her face. Kylie, enraged, grabbed Sophie’s hair, yanking her head back. “I’ll rip your scalp off, Turner!” she screamed, driving her knee into Sophie’s stomach, doubling her over. Sophie gasped, but her training kicked in—she wrapped her arms around Kylie’s waist, lifting her and slamming her down onto the marble floor with a bone-jarring thud, Kylie’s head bouncing as she groaned in pain.

Hailey, seeing an opportunity, went for Taylor while she was grappling with Kim. She grabbed Taylor’s hair from behind, yanking her off Kim and slamming her fist into Taylor’s jaw, splitting her lip. “You’re mine now, Swift!” Hailey growled, her voice dripping with venom. Taylor’s head rocked back, blood dripping down her chin, but she fought back, driving her elbow into Hailey’s stomach, making her gasp. “Not today, Bieber!” Taylor spat, spinning and landing a punch to Hailey’s temple that sent her staggering back, her vision blurring.

Kim, now free, scrambled to her feet and joined Kylie against Sophie, who was still pummeling Kylie on the ground. Kim grabbed Sophie’s arms, pulling her off Kylie and holding her in place. “Got you now, Turner!” Kim sneered, her grip tight as Kylie rose, her face a mask of blood and rage. “You’re done!” Kylie screamed, driving her fist into Sophie’s stomach repeatedly, each hit forcing a grunt from Sophie as her abs tensed under the assault. Sophie, her face contorted in pain, kicked out, catching Kylie in the knee, making her stumble, but Kim held firm, twisting Sophie’s arms painfully behind her back.

Taylor, seeing Sophie in trouble, broke free from Hailey with a desperate shove, sending Hailey crashing into a nearby table, the wood splintering under her weight. Taylor rushed to Sophie’s aid, tackling Kim from the side and breaking her hold on Sophie. “Get off her!” Taylor roared, slamming Kim’s head against the floor, dazing her. Sophie, freed, turned her fury on Kylie, grabbing her by the throat and squeezing, her green eyes blazing. “You’re finished, Jenner!” Sophie growled, her hands tightening as Kylie’s face turned purple, her hands clawing weakly at Sophie’s wrists.

Hailey, recovering from her crash, charged back into the fray, aiming for Taylor again. She tackled Taylor off Kim, the two women rolling across the floor, their bodies a tangle of limbs and blood. Hailey straddled Taylor, her hands wrapping around Taylor’s throat. “I’ll choke the life out of you!” Hailey screamed, her fingers digging in. Taylor gasped, her vision darkening, but she reached up, clawing at Hailey’s face, her nails raking across Hailey’s cheek, drawing blood. With a surge of adrenaline, Taylor bucked her hips, throwing Hailey off and rolling on top of her, slamming her fists into Hailey’s face, bruising her further. “Not… today!” This would be the point where Taylor would use some kind of scissor to squeeze the life out of her opponent but with the numbers disadvantage she needs to knock Hailey out quick Taylor panted, her punches relentless until Hailey’s eyes rolled back, her body going limp beneath her. “That was for Selena” said Taylor

Meanwhile, Sophie had Kylie on the ropes, her chokehold unyielding. Kylie’s struggles weakened, her hands falling to her sides as her eyes fluttered shut, passing out from the lack of air. Sophie released her, letting her slump to the floor, her body a bloodied heap. Breathing heavily, Sophie turned to help Taylor, who had just knocked out Hailey.

But Kim was back on her feet, her face a mess of blood and bruises, her eyes wild with desperation. She grabbed a shard of broken glass from the shattered table, her hands trembling as she lunged at Taylor. “You’re done, Swift!” Kim screamed, swinging the shard toward Taylor’s throat. Sophie reacted faster, tackling Kim mid-air, the glass slicing across Sophie’s arm instead, drawing a deep gash. Sophie grunted in pain, blood pouring from the wound, but she pinned Kim down. “Stay down!” Sophie roared, her voice raw as Kim struggled mightily. Kim, using every bit of strength left, rolled and was now on top of Sophie. She was out of position for any kind of tit smother so she just tried to get Sophie’s hair. Taylor grabbed Kim by the hair, yanked her off Sophie and locked in a body scissor, Sophie crawled over to Kim’s head and locked in a scissor of her own on Kim’s head. Sophie and Taylor each crushed Kim with their legs, a friendly competition as the women looked at each other to see who was squeezing harder. Finally Kim went limp and they each released their hold.

Taylor and Sophie, the last ones standing, staggered to their feet, their bodies trembling with exhaustion and pain. Taylor’s lip was split, her body covered in scratches and bruises, while Sophie’s arm bled profusely, her face pale but determined. They looked around at their fallen foes—Kim, Kylie, and Hailey unconscious, their bodies bloodied and broken. The cameras captured every moment, the live feed showing the world the brutal cost of their victory.

Taylor, her chest heaving, wiped the blood from her lip, her voice hoarse but triumphant. “We did it, Soph.” Sophie nodded, clutching her bleeding arm, her green eyes fierce despite the pain. “They’ll think twice before coming for us again,” she said, her voice steady. The Swiftie Squad had won, but the toll was heavy—Selena and Margaret were out, Blake had betrayed them, and their own wounds would take time to heal. As the cameras panned over the carnage, the world watched in stunned silence, knowing this battle would be talked about for years to come.

[Lostchris]

Sophie Bush vs Cobie Smulders


FanCons have become a normal part of a TV actor’s schedule: spending the weekend in a nice city, taking pictures with fans, signing autographs, and sometimes participating in the occasional panel. Today’s con was in Anaheim, California, and one particular panel, which may have seemed ordinary on the surface, would spark a chain of events that everyone in attendance would remember forever. It was the Badass Women in TV panel with special guests Cobie Smulders and Sophia Bush. The panel Q&A was going smoothly until someone asked who would win in a fight. Sophia quipped, “Oh yeah, her secret agent would beat up the cheerleader from North Carolina I played, but I’d take her in real life,” laughing as she spoke. Cobie gave a fake laugh before saying, “No chance,” somewhat playfully. The host of the panel let the awkward silence linger for a moment before asking for the next question. The next question would set everything off. The man asking it cracked a smile before saying, “Sophia, what kind of fight are you talking about—boxing?” Sophia, without really thinking, gave an honest answer: “Well, I wasn’t envisioning anything organized. I’m just saying if we started brawling on the spot, I think I would win.” Cobie, visibly annoyed, chimed in, “I disagree entirely,” which led to cheers from the crowd. Sophia, playing to the audience, stood up and said, “Who’s with me?” with half of the crowd cheering her on. Cobie stood up, getting eye to eye with Sophia, and said plainly, “Why don’t we settle this for everyone here?” Sophia bumped chests with Cobie. “I’m in, on one condition: no one interferes, no matter how nasty it gets. It ends here, me and you.” Cobie replied, “You’re on,” and the staff moved the tables and chairs, giving the women room to fight.

Sophia struck first, grabbing Cobie’s hair and yanking her around wildly. “Let’s see how tough you are now, princess!” she shouted, slamming Cobie against the backdrop. Cobie grunted, retaliating with a sharp elbow to Sophia’s ribs. “You hit like a child!” Cobie sneered, grabbing the neckline of Sophia’s dress and ripping it down the front. The teal fabric tore away, leaving Sophia in a black strapless bra as the crowd gasped.

Sophia laughed darkly, unfazed. “You’ll pay for that, you uptight wannabe!” She swung a fist, catching Cobie’s lip and drawing blood. Cobie stumbled, her hand flying to her mouth as blood dripped down her chin. She charged back, tackling Sophia to the ground. The two rolled across the stage, tearing at each other’s dresses. Sophia’s gown was shredded, the peplum skirt ripping apart, while Cobie’s magenta dress tore at the slit, exposing her legs. She ripped the rest of it off for mobility, leaving her in her undergarments.

“You call that a fight?” Sophia mocked, flipping Cobie onto her back and straddling her. She tore at Cobie’s bodice, the fabric giving way with a snap. “Look at you, all high and mighty—now you’re nothing!” She turned to the crowd, grinning as she held up a piece of Cobie’s torn dress like a trophy. The audience went wild, chanting Sophia’s name.

Cobie, panting, clawed at Sophia’s bra, ripping it off in a desperate move. “You’re a mess, Bush!” she spat, blood staining her teeth. But Sophia was relentless, slamming her knee into Cobie’s stomach and tearing away the last of Cobie’s undergarments. She dangled Cobie’s panties in the air, pretended to smell them, and while gagging, Sophia yelled, “Smells like rotten fish!” before flinging them into the crowd with a wicked grin. “Who wants a souvenir?” she shouted, and the fans erupted, scrambling for the fabric.

Both women were now naked, their bodies bruised and bloodied—Sophia with scratches across her chest, Cobie with a bloody nose and swollen cheek. They staggered to their feet, but Sophia’s energy was unshaken. “You’re done, Smulders!” she roared, dodging Cobie’s weak punch and grabbing her by the hair. She slammed Cobie’s face into the backdrop before dropping to the floor, dragging Cobie with her.

Cobie tried to crawl away, but Sophia wasn’t finished. Sophia fired off a jab, stunning Cobie. Both women sat on the ground, eye to eye, and Sophia knew she had her. She lay on her back and dragged Cobie by the hair, trapping her head between her thighs with her face pressed against Sophia’s pussy. “Beg for mercy, tough girl!” Sophia hissed, crushing Cobie’s head. Cobie, battered and humiliated, muttered, “I give,” her voice barely audible. Sophia smirked, announcing to the crowd that Cobie had given up. She squeezed even harder, demanding someone bring a mic so everyone could hear. A staffer rushed over with a microphone and held it close to Cobie. Cobie let out a horrific scream of pain and shouted, “Fuck you, Sophia!” Sophia continued squeezing with her thick, powerful thighs. Doing some crowd work, Sophia said, “Doesn’t bother me—I can do this all day. I’ll crush her head like a grape if she lets me!” Cobie kept letting out painful yells, trying to escape, but she was simply trapped. Some of Cobie’s biggest fans began to leave, unable to bear the sounds of their hero’s pain. Finally, after one last wail of agony, Cobie spoke again, this time caught by the mic: “I give,” she said. “That’s right—bow to the real badass!” Sophia shouted, raising her arms to the crowd. The audience exploded in cheers, chanting “Sophia! Sophia!” as she soaked in the victory.

To seal the humiliation, Sophia grabbed a marker from the panel table and scrawled “Loser” across Cobie’s back in bold letters. She stepped back, hands on her hips, as Cobie lay there, defeated and exposed. The crowd’s cheers reached a fever pitch, some fans even rushing the stage to snap pictures of Sophia’s triumph. Staff finally intervened, draping jackets over both women, but the damage was done—Sophia had not only won the fight but cemented her victory with a humiliating display that would be the talk of FanCons for years.

---

[Maizenblue]

Would you ever write a flashback story. Maybe 2003 prime Jessica alba vs prime Sarah Michelle Gellar.

[ernest31]

I enjoy your stories what AI platform do you use to write them?

[Jimi]

Amazing work, Lostchris! These are great, you do brilliantly with the AI. I hope you have as much fun writing them as we do reading them. Looove the Sophia/Cobie story. Great matchup and hot action. So good to see Sophia in a story. Thanks heaps! I look forward to reading all your stuff!

[Lostchris]

I enjoy your stories what AI platform do you use to write them?

I use the Grok AI that’s built into the twitter/X app. I have a couple of burner accounts in case I hit the limit you can use for free. It’ll randomly get really weird and refuse to write about violence but then I just switch accounts. Once you get it to write one you can just keep creating new matchups in that conversation but it’ll eventually start repeating itself. It also has weird tropes it loved like biting shoulders which I started taking out in google docs. I’ve also been editing the dialogue because Grok’s is really bad/inhuman lol

[Lostchris]

Would you ever write a flashback story. Maybe 2003 prime Jessica alba vs prime Sarah Michelle Gellar.

Flashback

2003 Teen Choice Awards After Party

Jessica Alba vs Sarah Michelle Gellar

The afterparty for the 2003 Teen Choice Awards was a glittering chaos, a sprawling Hollywood mansion packed with celebs, pulsing music, and free-flowing drinks. The air buzzed with laughter, gossip, and the occasional clink of glasses—until it didn’t. In a corner near the open bar, Sarah Michelle Gellar’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and mocking. “Rip-off Buffy shows like Dark Angel getting canceled—pathetic. Now that Buffy’s done, they’ll have to find something else to copy.” Her words, slurred slightly from one too many cocktails, landed like a grenade. Jessica Alba, standing just a few feet away with a drink in hand, froze. Her grip tightened on the glass, her jaw clenching as she processed the dig. *She’s talking about me. My show. My work.* The hurt morphed into fury, and before anyone could react, Jessica stormed over, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

Sarah turned, her smirk faltering as Jessica got in her face. “You got a problem, Gellar?” Jessica spat, her voice low but venomous. Sarah, never one to back down, straightened up, her beige top shimmering under the lights. “Yeah, I do. Your show was a cheap knockoff, and now it’s gone. Deal with it.” The crowd around them hushed, sensing the storm brewing. Jessica’s eyes flashed with rage. *She thinks she’s better than me? I’ll show her.* Without another word, she lunged.

The mansion’s lounge became a battleground, the velvet couches and glass tables shoved aside by the growing circle of onlookers. Jessica, in her black crop top and low-rise jeans, moved with raw intensity, her layered necklace swinging as she charged. Her thoughts were a wildfire. *I worked my ass off for Dark Angel. She doesn’t get to talk like that. I’ll make her eat those words.* She grabbed Sarah’s arm, yanking her forward, but Sarah was quick, her own adrenaline kicking in. *She’s really doing this? Fine. I’ve been fighting vampires on screen for years—I can handle her.* Sarah twisted free, her wavy hair bouncing as she shoved Jessica back, her beige top catching on a nearby table and tearing at the hem with a loud rip.

Jessica stumbled but recovered, her jeans riding low as she lunged again, grabbing a fistful of Sarah’s hair and pulling hard. Sarah yelped, her head jerking back, but she retaliated with a sharp slap across Jessica’s face, the crack echoing over the music. Jessica’s cheek stung, her crop top shifting to reveal more of her midriff as she thought, *She’s fighting dirty. Let’s see how she likes this.* She tackled Sarah onto a nearby couch, the impact sending cushions flying. Sarah’s jeans tore further, the fabric splitting down the side, exposing her bra as she kicked at Jessica, her heels flying off. *She’s trying to humiliate me in front of everyone,* Sarah thought, fury boiling over. She grabbed Jessica’s necklace, yanking hard—the chain snapped, beads scattering across the floor.

The fight escalated, the two women tumbling off the couch and onto the floor, their outfits shredding further in the chaos. Jessica’s crop top was barely hanging on, one strap torn, her jeans scuffed and slipping down her hips. Sarah’s outfit was in tatters, the top half hanging off her shoulders, her bra fully exposed as she scrambled to her feet. They circled each other, panting, their accessories now liabilities—Sarah’s bracelet caught on Jessica’s top, ripping it clean off. Jessica stood there, topless except for her bra, her chest heaving. *I don’t care who’s watching. She’s going down,* she thought, her determination unyielding.

Sarah smirked, sensing an opening. “What’s wrong, Alba? Can’t take the heat?” She grabbed Jessica’s hair again, pulling her down and kneeing her in the stomach. Jessica gasped, doubling over, but she clawed at Sarah’s face in return, leaving red welts across her cheek. Sarah screamed, her hands finding Jessica’s bra and tearing at it, the fabric giving way with a snap. Jessica’s bra fell to the floor, and she stood there, exposed, her face burning with humiliation but her resolve unbroken. *She wants to play like that? Fine.* Jessica tackled Sarah to the ground, straddling her and landing a solid punch to Sarah’s jaw. Sarah’s head snapped to the side, pain exploding, but she thought, *I’m not done. I’m not letting her win this.*

Sarah bucked beneath Jessica, rolling her off, and the two scrambled to their feet, their bodies slick with sweat. Jessica’s jeans were barely clinging to her hips, Sarah’s top reduced to scraps around her waist. They traded blows, slaps, and scratches, their energy waning but their fury unrelenting. Jessica charged, tackling Sarah against a glass wall overlooking the pool, the glass shuddering as she pressed Sarah’s face against it. “You think you’re better than me? Let’s see how you like this!” Jessica hissed, ripping at the remnants of Sarah’s top, exposing her fully. Sarah’s breasts pressed against the glass, her face flushed with humiliation as partygoers outside gaped. *She’s trying to break me in front of everyone,* Sarah thought, her hands flailing.

Sarah drove her elbow into Jessica’s ribs, forcing her back, and spun around, her own hands grabbing at Jessica’s jeans and yanking them down to her thighs. Jessica stumbled, her movements restricted, but she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Sarah’s waist and tackling her to the floor again. She straddled Sarah, her knees pinning Sarah’s arms, and leaned down, her voice a growl. “Say it—say Dark Angel was better than Buffy.” Sarah thrashed beneath her, her body aching, but she spat, “Never.” Jessica, enraged, pressed her weight down, attempting to smother Sarah with her chest. Sarah’s muffled cries filled the air as she thought, *I can’t let her do this. I won’t let her win.*

Sarah had been in scraps before and she used her experience to gain leverage control and with what strength she had left Sarah shoved Jessica off, rolling to the side and scrambling to her feet. Both women were battered, their outfits in ruins—Jessica in just her underwear, Sarah in nothing but the tattered remains of her dress. Jessica charged again, but Sarah was ready, sidestepping and grabbing Jessica’s arm, twisting it behind her back. Jessica grunted in pain, but she stomped on Sarah’s foot, breaking free. The two collapsed to the floor again, a tangle of limbs, their breaths ragged. Sarah managed to pin Jessica down, her knees on either side of Jessica’s torso, and she pressed her chest against Jessica’s face, smothering her. “You’re done, Alba,” Sarah hissed, her voice cold. With a sudden burst of strength, Sarah’s grip slipped, and Jessica shoved her off, rolling to the side and gasping for air… her underwear barely clinging to her hips, her body slick with sweat. Sarah scrambled to her feet, her tattered dress hanging off her like rags, her eyes burning with fury. But Jessica was faster—she charged, landing a powerful strike to Sarah’s jaw, the crack echoing through the room. Sarah’s head snapped to the side, her vision blurring, but Jessica didn’t stop. She followed with a vicious knee to Sarah’s stomach, doubling her over, and then a sharp elbow to the back of Sarah’s head, sending her crashing to the floor.

Jessica stood over Sarah, her chest heaving, her voice a snarl. “Apologize. Now.” Sarah, dazed and gasping, tried to crawl away, but Jessica grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back and straddling her. She rained down blows—punches to Sarah’s face, shoulders, anywhere she could reach—each strike punctuated with a demand. “Say you’re sorry! Say Dark Angel was better and you’re a bitchy mean girl!” Sarah’s face was a mess of bruises, her lip split, but she mumbled something incoherent through the pain. Jessica, furious, leaned in closer, her voice sharp. “Louder, Gellar! Apologize louder!”

Sarah’s eyes flashed with defiance. In a sudden move, she raked her nails across Jessica’s eyes, making her scream and recoil. Seizing the moment, Sarah pulled Jessica to the floor, her strength fueled by desperation. She hammered her fists into Jessica’s nose, a sickening crunch filling the air as blood gushed. Before Jessica could recover, Sarah mounted her in a 69 position, planting herself on Jessica’s face, her weight pressing down as Jessica’s muffled cries were smothered. Sarah’s hands went to work, her nails tearing at Jessica’s underwear, clawing viciously at her groin. The crowd gasped, some turning away in horror, others frozen as they watched the brutal display.

Jessica’s hands flailed, her body writhing beneath Sarah as she tried to fight back, her nails scratching at Sarah’s thighs, but the pain was overwhelming. Sarah, unrelenting, played to the crowd, raising her head briefly to smirk at the onlookers. “She thought she could take me!” she shouted, before returning to her assault, mixing in sharp punches to Jessica’s groin, each blow drawing a choked scream. The onlookers whispered in disbelief, wondering how much more Jessica could endure, her body trembling, her resistance fading.

Finally, Jessica’s movements slowed, her hands falling limp as the pain became too much. Her body went slack, and she passed out, her face still trapped beneath Sarah. Sarah stood, her own body bruised and battered, her tattered clothes barely covering her. She looked down at Jessica’s unconscious form, bloodied and broken, and spat, “Stick to shaking your ass, you pathetic bitch.” The crowd parted as Sarah walked away, her head high, leaving Jessica motionless on the floor, the night’s victor undisputed.

————————————————————

Had fun with this. Feels prime for a rematch, maybe after 20+ years Jessica wants revenge

[Lostchris]

Cathy Kelly vs Renee Paquette

Nestled in the heart of Toronto, Canada, on a crisp evening, the upscale Maple Leaf Wellness Spa stands as a beacon of luxury and relaxation. The spa, a modern glass-and-wood structure, overlooks the city skyline, its sleek design contrasting with the natural beauty of the nearby Lake Ontario. Inside, the air is warm and fragrant with eucalyptus, the soft hum of ambient music blending with the gentle trickle of a waterfall feature in the lobby. The sauna room, a cedar-lined sanctuary on the top floor, offers panoramic views of the city through a floor-to-ceiling window, the lights of Toronto twinkling like stars against the night sky. The wooden benches are tiered, the air thick with steam, and the heat is a comforting embrace for those seeking solace—or, in this case, a battleground.

The sauna is sparsely populated this evening, the late hour deterring all but the most dedicated spa-goers. Two women, however, find themselves here by sheer coincidence, their paths crossing in a moment of fiery serendipity. Both are in town for a major wrestling event, AEW’s Double or Nothing, which took place earlier that day at the Scotiabank Arena. The event has left the wrestling world abuzz, and social media platform X is alight with hot takes, memes, and debates. One particular post, retweeted by Renee Paquette at 3:00 PM EDT, has ignited a firestorm: “Renee Paquette is the hottest interviewer in wrestling—those large milf breasts are unmatched! ? #AEW.” The retweet, seen by thousands, including Cathy Kelley, has sparked a simmering resentment that now boils over in the steamy confines of the sauna.

---

Cathy Kelley, at 36, is a striking figure in the wrestling journalism world, her sharp wit and polished presence earning her a legion of fans. She stands at 5’5”, her lithe frame honed by years of yoga and Pilates, her dark brown hair cascading in loose waves past her shoulders. She’s wrapped in a white spa towel, but as she prepares for what she knows will be a confrontation, she lets it fall, revealing her toned body, her perky, apple-sized breasts glistening with sweat, her skin flushed from the heat..

Renee Paquette, 39, is a veteran in the industry, her confident demeanor and sultry charm making her a fan favorite. She’s 5’6”, her body softer but still fit, her curves accentuated by the heat of the sauna. Her blonde hair is swept into a messy bun, strands sticking to her sweat-slicked neck, and her large, grapefruit-sized breasts—highlighted in the viral X post—are on full display as she, too, drops her towel, her body a mix of strength and sensuality. She wears no jewelry, her hands bare but manicured, her nails painted a deep red that matches the flush of her skin.

---

The tension between the two women is palpable as they lock eyes across the sauna, the steam swirling around them like a living thing. Earlier that day, Cathy had seen Renee’s retweet while scrolling through X on her phone at the arena. The post stung—Renee’s casual acceptance of the “hottest interviewer” title felt like a direct slight to Cathy, who prides herself on her own appeal and professionalism. Now, by chance, they’re in the same city, in the same spa, in the same sauna, and the air crackles with their mutual disdain.

“You really think you’re the hottest interviewer, huh?” Cathy says, her voice low and venomous, her brown eyes narrowing as she steps closer to Renee. She adjusts her stance, her towel now discarded on the bench, her body glistening in the heat. “Retweeting that post about your ‘milf breasts’—classy, Renee. Real classy.”

Renee smirks, her blue eyes blazing with defiance as she tosses her towel aside, standing tall, her curves on full display. “Oh, Cathy, don’t act like you’re above it. Fans say what they say—I just gave them a little nod. You’re just mad because they didn’t pick you.” She steps forward, closing the distance, her voice dripping with contempt. “Maybe if you had a little more to show, they’d notice you.”

Cathy’s face twists with rage, her fists clenching at her sides. “You’re a washed-up has-been, Renee. I’m going to make you regret that retweet. I’ll beat you so bad you’ll never show your face in wrestling again.”

Renee laughs, a cold, mocking sound that echoes off the cedar walls. “Oh, honey, I’ve been in this game longer than you’ve been relevant. I’m going to wreck you—and those little tits of yours won’t save you. Let’s see if you can handle a real woman.”

The two women square off, their bodies slick with sweat, the heat of the sauna intensifying their fury. They circle each other like predators, their nipples hardening in the steamy air, their faces set with raw hatred. The sauna is empty now, the last patron having left minutes ago, leaving them alone to settle their score.

---

Cathy strikes first, lunging forward with a vicious slap that cracks across Renee’s face, the sound sharp and echoing in the enclosed space. Renee’s head snaps to the side, her blonde bun loosening, strands of hair falling across her flushed cheek. “You little bitch!” Renee snarls, her hand flying to her stinging face, but Cathy doesn’t give her a moment to recover, slamming another open-handed slap across Renee’s other cheek.

Renee staggers back, her back hitting the cedar bench, but she retaliates with a wild swing, her fist aimed at Cathy’s jaw. Cathy ducks, her agility giving her the edge, and drives her knee into Renee’s stomach, the impact forcing a grunt from the older woman. Renee doubles over, her large breasts bouncing with the motion, and Cathy grabs her by the hair, yanking her upright and slamming her face-first into the wooden wall of the sauna, the thud reverberating through the room.

“Thought you could take me, huh?” Cathy hisses, her voice dripping with venom as she keeps Renee pinned against the wall, her nails digging into Renee’s scalp. She slams Renee’s head again, the older woman’s cheek scraping against the rough cedar, a thin scratch forming on her skin. Renee groans, her hands scrabbling at the wall, but Cathy is relentless, pulling Renee back by the hair and spinning her around, delivering a brutal uppercut to Renee’s jaw that sends her sprawling onto the bench, her body bouncing against the wood.

Renee’s lip splits, a trickle of blood running down her chin, her blue eyes glassy with pain but still burning with defiance. “You’re gonna pay for that, you little slut,” she growls, pushing herself up, but Cathy is on her in an instant, straddling her on the bench, her thighs pinning Renee’s arms to her sides. Cathy grabs Renee’s large breasts, the very assets praised in the X post, and digs her nails in, twisting viciously, drawing a scream from Renee that echoes through the sauna.

“These ‘milf breasts’ everyone loves so much?” Cathy sneers, her face twisted with rage as she mauls Renee’s chest, her nails leaving bloody welts, Renee’s breasts reddening under the assault. “Let’s see how they look after I’m done with them!” Renee thrashes beneath her, her screams a mix of pain and fury, her legs kicking uselessly as Cathy continues her savage attack, her hands kneading and twisting, Renee’s breasts bruising and swelling under the relentless pressure.

Renee’s hands finally break free, and she claws at Cathy’s arms, her red nails leaving angry scratches, but Cathy is undeterred, slamming her fist into Renee’s face, the blow splitting Renee’s lip further, blood spraying onto the bench. “You’re nothing, Renee!” Cathy yells, her voice raw with emotion, her fists raining down on Renee’s face, each punch a thunderclap that reverberates through the sauna. Renee’s nose begins to bleed, her cheeks reddening under the assault, her moans of pain growing weaker as Cathy dominates her completely.

Desperate, Renee bucks her hips, trying to throw Cathy off, but Cathy shifts her weight, sliding up to sit on Renee’s chest, her knees pinning Renee’s shoulders to the bench. She grabs Renee’s hair with one hand, yanking her head back, and delivers a series of brutal slaps, each one rocking Renee’s head from side to side, her face a mess of blood and sweat, her eyes starting to swell shut. “Beg me to stop, you old hag!” Cathy snarls, her hand wrapping around Renee’s throat, squeezing just enough to make Renee’s face turn purple, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Renee’s hands claw at Cathy’s thighs, leaving bloody scratches, but her strength is fading, her body trembling beneath Cathy’s relentless assault. “Fuck… you…” Renee chokes out, her voice barely a whisper, but Cathy only tightens her grip, her other hand grabbing Renee’s breast again, twisting the nipple until Renee screams, her voice hoarse and broken.

“You’re done, Renee,” Cathy whispers, her voice cold and triumphant as she releases Renee’s throat, only to slam her fist into Renee’s stomach, the blow forcing a pained grunt from the older woman. Cathy slides back, grabbing Renee’s legs and pulling her off the bench, dragging her across the slick wooden floor of the sauna, Renee’s body too weak to resist. She positions Renee face-down, sitting on her back, and grabs Renee’s arms, twisting them behind her in a brutal hold, Renee’s screams echoing as her shoulders strain under the pressure.

“I’m going to make sure you never forget this,” Cathy hisses, her hands moving to Renee’s lower body, her nails raking across Renee’s thighs, leaving bloody streaks, her fingers digging into the soft flesh with savage intent. Renee’s cries are muffled against the floor, her body convulsing in pain, her spirit shattered as Cathy dominates her completely. Finally, Cathy grabs Renee by the hair, yanking her head back, and slams her face into the floor, the impact dazing Renee, her body going limp, her sobs the only sound in the sauna.

---

Cathy stands, her body slick with sweat, her chest heaving as she looks down at Renee’s battered form, blood and sweat pooling on the floor beneath her. Renee’s face is a mess—her lip split, her nose bleeding, her cheeks swollen, her breasts bruised and scratched, her thighs marked with bloody welts. Cathy’s own body bears the marks of the fight—scratches on her arms and thighs, her hands red from the force of her punches—but she stands tall, victorious, her brown eyes blazing with triumph.

“You’re not the hottest anything anymore,” Cathy says, her voice low and venomous as she grabs her towel, wrapping it around herself, leaving Renee a broken heap on the sauna floor. She walks out, the door closing behind her, the steam swirling around Renee’s defeated form, the city lights of Toronto glittering through the window, indifferent to the battle that has just taken place.

---

[Lostchris]

Welcome to the KJFC!! The arena was electric, a sold-out crowd buzzing with anticipation for the double main event. The lights dimmed, and the spotlight hit the ring, a caged octagon surrounded by eager fans. Kendall Jenner’s plan was in motion: restore the Jenner family’s pride through a brutal, high-profile catfight showcase. The Swiftie Squad had humiliated them, and Kendall wasn’t about to let that stand. Tonight, she’d face Hailee Steinfeld, a rising star with a fierce reputation, while Kylie took on Storm Reid, Zendaya’s close friend, in a calculated move to bait the elusive star into the ring.


Fight 1: Kendall Jenner vs. Hailee Steinfeld

The announcer’s voice boomed, introducing Kendall Jenner first. At 5’10”, Kendall strode out in a sleek black sports bra and matching shorts, her long legs glistening under the lights. Her model physique was toned, her eyes sharp with determination. The crowd roared, some chanting her name, others hurling insults from her family’s recent losses. She ignored them, climbing into the cage with a predator’s grace.

Hailee Steinfeld followed, her entrance met with equal fervor. At 5’8”, Hailee was slightly shorter but carried a wiry strength, her athletic build evident in her fitted red tank top and shorts. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, and her confident smirk suggested she was ready to make a statement. Both women were evenly matched in reach and agility, promising a clash of speed and power.

The bell rang, and the cage door locked. Kendall lunged first, using her height advantage to aim a sharp kick at Hailee’s thigh. Hailee sidestepped, grabbing Kendall’s leg and twisting, forcing her to stumble. The crowd cheered as Hailee pressed her advantage, slamming a knee into Kendall’s midsection. Kendall grunted, doubling over, but her reflexes kicked in. She grabbed Hailee’s shoulders, pulling her down into a clinch and driving her knee into Hailee’s ribs.

“Gonna make you eat that smirk, Steinfeld!” Kendall hissed, her nails digging into Hailee’s shoulders as she shoved her back against the cage.

Hailee shoved back, breaking the clinch and swinging a wild hook that caught Kendall’s cheek. A red welt bloomed instantly, and Kendall staggered, her long legs wobbling. Hailee didn’t let up, charging forward and tackling Kendall to the mat. The impact echoed through the arena, and Hailee straddled Kendall, raining down quick, sharp slaps to her face. Kendall’s head whipped side to side, her cheeks reddening as she clawed at Hailee’s arms, leaving angry red scratches.

“You think you’re the queen bitch?” Hailee taunted, grabbing Kendall’s hair and yanking her head back to slam it into the mat. Kendall groaned, her vision blurring, but she wasn’t done. She hooked her long legs around Hailee’s waist, squeezing tight in a scissor hold. Hailee gasped, her hands scrambling to pry Kendall’s thighs apart, but Kendall’s legs were relentless, her muscles flexing as she crushed Hailee’s midsection.

With a surge of strength, Kendall rolled them over, pinning Hailee beneath her. She grabbed Hailee’s tank top, yanking it up to expose her toned stomach, and drove a fist into it. Hailee coughed, the air rushing out of her, but she retaliated by grabbing Kendall’s sports bra and twisting, nearly tearing it off. The crowd roared as Kendall’s chest was partially exposed, her face flushing with rage.

“Cheap shot, slut!” Kendall snarled, ripping Hailee’s top clean off, leaving her in a black bra. The fabric fluttered to the mat as Kendall pounced, her nails raking across Hailee’s chest, leaving red streaks. Hailee screamed, bucking wildly to throw Kendall off. She succeeded, scrambling to her feet and kicking Kendall hard in the ribs as she tried to rise.

Kendall rolled away, clutching her side, but Hailee was on her again, grabbing her hair and slamming her face into the cage wall. Metal rattled as Kendall’s cheek pressed against it, blood trickling from a cut above her eye. The crowd was deafening, some cheering for Hailee’s dominance, others urging Kendall to fight back.

“You’re nothing, Jenner!” Hailee shouted, pulling Kendall’s head back for another slam. But Kendall braced her hands against the cage, shoving backward and catching Hailee off-balance. She spun, grabbing Hailee’s arm and twisting it behind her back, forcing her to her knees. Kendall’s long leg swung up, her shin cracking into Hailee’s jaw. Hailee’s head snapped back, her body slumping as she hit the mat hard.

Kendall didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Hailee’s hair, dragging her to the center of the cage, and mounted her chest. “Time to end this,” she growled, slamming her fist into Hailee’s face. Blood sprayed from Hailee’s nose, her eyes glazing over as Kendall pounded her relentlessly. Hailee’s arms flailed weakly, trying to cover her face, but Kendall was merciless, her fists a blur until Hailee’s body went limp.

The referee rushed in, pulling Kendall off as the bell rang. Hailee lay sprawled, her chest heaving, blood and bruises marring her face. Kendall stood, panting, her own face bloodied but triumphant. The crowd erupted as she raised her arms, her sports bra torn but her pride intact. She’d taken down a major star, proving the Jenners were back in the game.

---

### **Fight 2: Kylie Jenner vs. Storm Reid**

The cage was reset, the crowd still buzzing from Kendall’s brutal victory. Kylie Jenner entered next, her 5’6” frame exuding confidence in a silver bikini top and shorts that hugged her curves. Her dark hair was tied back, and her eyes gleamed with a sadistic glint. She was here to destroy Storm Reid, not just for the win, but to send a message to Zendaya.

Storm Reid stepped into the cage, her 5’7” frame lean and athletic, dressed in a navy sports bra and leggings. Her expression was defiant, her loyalty to Zendaya fueling her resolve. She wasn’t here for the fame or the drama—she was here to defend her friend’s honor. The crowd sensed the tension, their cheers mixed with jeers as the bell rang.

Kylie struck first, darting in with a low kick to Storm’s shin, trying to unbalance her. Storm absorbed the hit, grabbing Kylie’s leg and flipping her onto her back. The mat shook as Kylie landed, gasping, but she rolled away as Storm aimed a stomp at her stomach. Kylie sprang up, her nails flashing as she clawed at Storm’s face. Storm yelped, stumbling back, red lines blooming across her cheek.

“You’re gonna regret stepping in here, Reid!” Kylie spat, lunging and grabbing Storm’s hair, yanking her head down to meet her knee. Storm’s nose crunched, blood spurting as she staggered. Kylie grinned, her sadistic side unleashed, and tackled Storm to the mat, straddling her waist. She ripped at Storm’s sports bra, tearing it halfway off to expose her chest, drawing a roar from the crowd.

Storm fought back, bucking her hips and throwing Kylie off. She scrambled up, wiping blood from her face, and charged, slamming her shoulder into Kylie’s midsection. They crashed into the cage wall, the metal rattling as Storm drove her fist into Kylie’s ribs. Kylie grunted, her breath hitching, but she grabbed Storm’s arm, twisting it and forcing her to her knees.

“Think you can save Zendaya’s pride?” Kylie hissed, stomping on Storm’s thigh. Storm cried out, her leg buckling, but she swung a desperate fist into Kylie’s stomach. Kylie doubled over, gasping, and Storm seized the moment, grabbing Kylie’s hair and slamming her face into the mat. Blood trickled from Kylie’s lip as she rolled away, her eyes blazing with fury.

Kylie lunged, her nails digging into Storm’s shoulders as she tackled her back to the mat. She straddled Storm’s chest, pinning her arms with her knees, and began raining slaps across Storm’s face. Each hit echoed, Storm’s head whipping side to side, her cheeks swelling. “Beg, bitch!” Kylie screamed, grabbing Storm’s hair and smashing her head into the mat repeatedly.

Storm’s struggles weakened, her arms flailing uselessly. Kylie stood, dragging Storm by the hair to the cage wall, and slammed her face into the metal. Blood smeared across the bars as Storm’s body sagged, her eyes half-closed. Kylie wasn’t done. She grabbed Storm’s torn sports bra, ripping it off completely, and used it to bind Storm’s wrists behind her back.

“Zendaya’s gonna see what happens to her little friends,” Kylie snarled, kicking Storm’s legs out from under her. Storm fell to her knees, gasping, her chest exposed and bruised. Kylie grabbed a handful of Storm’s hair, forcing her to look into the camera at ringside. “You watching, Zendaya? This is your fault!” she shouted, then slammed Storm’s face into the mat one last time.

Storm collapsed, motionless, her face a mess of blood and bruises. The referee called the fight, and Kylie stood, smirking cruelly as the crowd went wild. She’d humiliated Storm, leaving her broken in the cage, a clear message to Zendaya: step up or watch your friends suffer.

---

### **Aftermath**

The arena was a cauldron of noise as Kendall and Kylie stood triumphant, their victories a bold statement. Kendall had taken down Hailee Steinfeld, proving her prowess against a major star, while Kylie’s sadistic destruction of Storm Reid was a calculated provocation. Backstage, the sisters shared a glance, knowing their plan was working. Zendaya couldn’t ignore this forever—not after Storm’s brutal defeat.

As the crowd chanted their names, Kendall whispered to Kylie, “She’ll come. She has to.” The Jenners had reclaimed their pride, but the real prize—Zendaya in the cage—was still out there, and they were ready to do whatever it took to get her.