Meg Ryan's eyes locked onto Alicia Silverstone's. No blinking. Just pure hate."
Alicia's fists clenched tighter. Her knuckles went white. She didn't look away either. The crowd noise faded to a dull buzz in Meg's ears. All she saw was Alicia's stupid perfect nose and that smug little smirk. Meg's stomach twisted into knots. She hated how calm Alicia looked standing there in her sparkly blue bikini. Like she already knew she'd win. Like Meg didn't even matter.
The referee stepped between them. "Break it up!" She yelled. Meg shoved her arm away hard. Alicia lunged forward, but Meg ducked back just in time. A strand of Alicia's blonde hair whipped Meg's chemade the ring ropes glow red hot.
ek. It stung. Meg tasted salt from her own sweat dripping into her mouth. The bright lights overhead Alicia bounced on her toes like a boxer. "Scared?" she hissed. Meg snorted. "Of you? Please." The crowd roared louder now. Someone threw popcorn. It rained down near Meg's bare feet. She smelled stale beer and cheap perfume from the front row.
The bell clanged loud and sharp. Meg charged. Alicia met her halfway. Their shoulders crashed together with a thump. Meg gasped. Pain shot down her arm. Alicia grabbed Meg's bikini top strap. Yanked hard. The crowd screamed. Meg stumbled sideways. Her foot slipped on a sweaty spot on the canvas. She caught herself on the ropes just before falling. The elastic cord dug into her palms. Alicia laughed. A high, mean sound. Meg wiped sweat from her eyes. It burned. She tasted it again. Salty and bitter. Like tears. But she wasn't crying. Not for Alicia Silverstone.
Never.
Alicia bounced closer. Her blue bikini sparkled under the lights. Meg lunged without thinking. Her shoulder slammed into Alicia's stomach. Hard. " Alicia gasped. Meg shoved her against the ropes. The crowd screamed louder. Meg felt the vibrations in her chest. " Alicia shoved back. Her elbow caught Meg's ribs. Sharp pain shot through Meg's side. She gasped. The air smelled like popcorn and sweat. Alicia whispered. "You're scared." Meg's vision blurred. Red spots danced before her eyes. She pushed Alicia away. Hard. Her face twisted into a snarl. "You'll pay for that!" she screamed. The crowd roared like thunder. Meg smiled. Finally. A real fight. No more talking. No more staring. Just fists and fury. She raised her hands. Ready. Alicia charged. Her blonde hair streamed behind her. Meg braced herself. The impact knocked the wind out of her. But she didn't fall. Not yet. Not ever. She wrapped her arms around Alicia's waist. They crashed to the mat together. Bones jarred. Breath whooshed out. Above them, the lights burned like tiny suns. Meg tasted canvas. Gritty and sour. Alicia scratched at Meg's back. Nails like claws. Meg rolled them over. Now she was on top. She pinned Alicia's shoulders down. The crowd counted along with the referee. "One!" Alicia bucked wildly. Her knee came up. Hard. Right between Meg's legs. Meg gasped. Her grip loosened. Alicia scrambled free. She scrambled to her feet. Meg curled on her side. Agony ripped through her. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Above her, Alicia laughed. That high, mean laugh again. "Told you," she said."
Meg squeezed her eyes shut. Tears mixed with sweat. Not from pain. From rage. Pure, burning rage. She'd make Alicia pay. She'd make her scream. She'd make her cry. Meg forced herself up. Her legs shook. But she stood.
Meg's eyes burned holes through Alicia's face. That stupid smirk hadn't budged an inch, even after Meg had slammed into her gut. Sweat stung Meg's vision, turning Alicia's sparkly blue bikini into a shimmering blob of arrogance. The roar of the crowd sounded miles away, muffled by the furious drumbeat pounding in Meg's own ears. Every muscle in her body coiled tighter than the ring ropes behind her, ready to spring.
She didn't think. Didn't plan. Just exploded forward. Both hands shot out, fingers hooked like claws, aiming straight for Alicia's perfect nose and that infuriatingly calm expression. Her palms slammed against Alicia's cheekbones, thumbs digging hard into the corners of her mouth. Meg shoved upwards with every ounce of rage-fueled strength she had, grinding Alicia's face sideways, twisting the skin. A sharp fingernail scraped Alicia's eyebrow. "Wipe that look off!" Meg snarled, her voice raw. She felt the slick sweat on Alicia's skin, smelled the sharp tang of panic mixed with cheap hairspray as blonde strands tangled around her knuckles.
The force drove Alicia stumbling backwards, her bare feet scrambling for purchase on the slippery canvas. Her eyes widened, the smirk finally vanishing, replaced by pure shock. Meg kept pushing, driving her relentlessly towards the corner turnbuckle. Alicia's shoulder blades slammed into the thick blue padding. Dust puffed from the padding. The impact jolted Alicia's head back, snapping her teeth shut with an audible click. Her blonde hair stuck to the sweaty vinyl pad behind her.
Meg leaned in, her forearm pressed hard across Alicia's collarbone, pinning her against the unforgiving corner. The crowd's roar hit Meg like a physical wave. She saw Alicia's chest heaving, rising and falling rapidly beneath the sparkly blue fabric. The violent shove had made Alicia's body shudder violently. Her breasts bounced sharply against the constraint of the bikini top, straining against the thin straps. Meg could see the rapid pulse pounding in Alicia's throat, just above the fabric's edge. Sweat dripped from Alicia's chin onto Meg's forearm, hot and slick.
"Not so smug now, huh?" Meg hissed, her face inches from Alicia's. She saw the panic flicker in those wide eyes. Meg pressed harder, grinding her forearm bone into Alicia's windpipe. Alicia gagged, her mouth opening in a silent gasp. Her hands scrabbled uselessly against Meg's sweaty shoulders, nails scratching but finding no purchase. The sharp scent of fear, sharp and sour, cut through the stale arena air. Meg felt a surge of savage satisfaction. *Good. Suffer.* She shifted her weight, driving her knee hard into Alicia's inner thigh. A choked cry escaped Alicia's lips. Her leg buckled, but the corner held her up.
Meg's gaze snapped to the tangled mess of blonde hair plastered to Alicia's sweaty temple and the vinyl padding. *Perfect.* Her left hand shot up, fingers curling like steel talons. She didn't grab a fistful; she seized a thick clump right at the roots, near the crown of Alicia's head. Her knuckles dug into the scalp. Meg felt the coarse strands, sticky with sweat and hairspray, wrap tightly around her fingers. She gave a brutal, testing yank upwards. Alicia's head jerked back violently, slamming against the padding with a sickening *thud*. A strangled scream tore from Alicia's throat, raw and desperate. Tears welled instantly in her wide, terrified eyes.
She let Alicia go and watched her slump onto her ass. She spit repeatedly into Alicia's face. Alicia gasped, wiping her eyes with trembling hands. Her perfect nose was red and swollen.
Meg raised her fist. She brought it down hard. Alicia's head snapped back. The crowd gasped. Meg did it again. Alicia's eyes rolled back. Her legs kicked weakly. Meg grabbed Alicia's hair again. She pulled her head up. Alicia's mouth hung open sweat mixed with the spit on her chin. Meg drew her fist back once more. She aimed right for the nose. "This is for laughing!" Meg screamed. Her knuckles smashed into bone and cartilage. Her body went limp. She slid down the corner padding. She landed in a heap on the mat. Her legs were tangled. Her chest barely moved.
Meg dragged Alicia by her hair and dropped her face down ass up in the middle of the ring. She spit on the back of Alicia's head and stripped her naked. She stomped Alicia's ass cheeks. Hard. Alicia moaned. Meg stomped her again. And again as the jumbotron zoomed in the cute white and creamy ass cheeks of Alicia, clapping together. She finally kicked the naked and beaten woman onto her back and stomped her foot on her chest for the three count--but alicia somehow kicked out before three.
Meg was bewildered. She had stomped Alicia flat. How did she kick out? The crowd was on its feet, screaming like mad. Meg looked down at the naked woman beneath her boot. Alicia's chest rose and fell in shallow gasps. Sweat and spit glistened on her swollen face. Her blue bikini lay torn near the turnbuckle. Meg ground her heel into Alicia's ribs. Hard. A pained groan escaped Alicia's lips. Her eyes fluttered open. They were unfocused.
Then, suddenly, Alicia moved. Fast. Her hand shot out, grabbing Meg's ankle still planted on her chest. With a desperate twist and a surge of strength Meg didn't think she had left, Alicia yanked *hard*. Meg's leg buckled. She crashed face-first onto the canvas beside Alicia. Stars exploded behind her eyes. The gritty taste of mat filled her mouth again. Before Meg could push herself up, Alicia was on her. Not standing – scrambling. Knees digging into Meg's back. Fingers tangled in Meg's hair, pulling her head back sharply. Meg cried out as her scalp burned. Alicia's other hand pressed down hard between Meg's shoulder blades, pinning her flat. Meg's cheek mashed against the sweaty canvas. She couldn't breathe.
Someone threw a cane into the ring. Alicia saw it skitter across the canvas near her hand. Her fingers closed around the smooth wood. Meg felt the pressure on her back shift. She tried to buck Alicia off, but it was too late. The cane whistled through the air. It cracked against meg's bare back. . Meg's vision swam. Her arms went limp. The crowd gasped, then roared louder than ever.
Alicia swung again. The cane landed with a sickening *thwack* across Meg's shoulder blades. Pain exploded, white-hot and blinding. Meg gasped, the air punched from her lungs. She tasted canvas dust. The cane rose a third time. Meg braced, muscles rigid, but the blow didn’t land. Instead, Alicia pushed herself off Meg’s back, staggering to her feet.
She took one wobbling step towards the center of the ring. Her legs trembled violently. The cane slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the canvas. She stared at it, dazed, her chest heaving. The bright lights swam above her. The roar of the crowd sounded like rushing water in her ears. Her vision blurred, the sparkle of her ruined bikini top swimming in and out of focus. She swayed, her arms hanging limp at her sides. The adrenaline that had fueled her desperate counterattack was gone, leaving only a crushing wave of exhaustion. Every bruise, every scratch, every place Meg had stomped her screamed in protest. Her knees buckled. She didn't fall gracefully; she crumpled, landing hard on her side beside the discarded cane. Dust puffed up around her. She lay there, naked and battered, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Her eyes fluttered shut.
Meg lay face down only a few feet away. The cane blows had stolen her breath and her will. Her back felt like raw meat, each throb echoing the sickening *thwack* of the wood. Sweat stung the fresh welts. She tried to push herself up, but her arms refused to obey. Her muscles felt like water. Her vision swam, the red ropes blurring into a haze. The crowd's noise was a distant, meaningless hum. All she could hear was the frantic drumming of her own heartbeat and the harsh rasp of her breathing. The rage that had burned so hotly moments ago was extinguished, replaced by a hollow, aching numbness. She had been so close. So close to finally shutting Alicia up for good. Now she was just a broken body on the mat. Her cheek pressed harder into the canvas. A single tear, hot and unwanted, mixed with the sweat and grime. She didn't even have the strength to wipe it away.
Alicia didn't move. She lay curled on her side near the center of the ring, naked except for the tattered remains of her blue bikini bottom. Her skin was a patchwork of angry red stomp marks, blooming bruises, and scratches. Her blonde hair was a tangled mess, plastered to her face and the canvas with sweat and spit. Her breath hitched in her throat, shallow and uneven. Every tiny movement seemed to cost her dearly. Her eyes were slits, unfocused, staring at nothing. The pain was a crushing weight, pinning her down as effectively as Meg's boot had moments before. She felt cold despite the arena heat, a shiver running through her battered frame. The fight had drained everything. The smug confidence, the sharp retorts, the desperate fury – all gone. Only the broken shell remained. The jumbotron showed her in stark detail: the tear tracks cutting through the dirt on her cheeks. Her perfect image was shattered, just like her body.
Meg watched her from inches away, her own face pressed into the gritty canvas. The cane blows had turned her back into a landscape of fire. Each breath sent fresh waves of agony rippling through her. Her legs felt numb, useless. Her arms were lead weights. The hollow numbness inside her warred with the physical torment. She saw Alicia's stillness, the utter defeat in her posture. A flicker of something cold and sharp pierced the fog in Meg's mind. *Not like this.* She hadn't fought this hard, endured this much, just to lose because she couldn't lift her own head. The image of Alicia laughing, that high, mean sound, flashed behind her eyelids. *Never.* The thought was a spark in the darkness. It wasn't about winning anymore. It was about not letting *her* win. Not letting Alicia have the satisfaction of seeing Meg broken on the mat. Meg gritted her teeth. She *had* to move. She *had* to get up. If only to spit in Alicia's face one more time.
With a guttural groan that scraped her throat raw, Meg began to crawl. It wasn't graceful. It was pure, agonizing willpower. Her elbows dug into the canvas, dragging her broken body forward inch by excruciating inch. Sweat dripped from her nose and chin, mixing with the dust. The crowd noise surged back, a tidal wave of disbelief and rising excitement. They saw her moving. They saw the sheer bloody-minded refusal to stay down. Every scrape of her skin on the mat sent jolts through her, the friction burning the welts on her back. Her vision blurred, tunneling down to the patch of canvas directly in front of her, leading to the crumpled form of her enemy. She ignored the screaming pain. She ignored the trembling weakness. She focused only on the distance shrinking between them.
Her hand landed on Alicia's bare, bruised hip. The skin was slick with sweat, hot to the touch. Alicia flinched weakly, a low whimper escaping her cracked lips. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused, registering Meg's approach with slow horror. Meg dragged her torso forward, collapsing her upper body heavily across Alicia's tits. The impact forced a choked gasp from Alicia. Meg felt the frantic flutter of Alicia's heart against her own ribs. She was a dead weight, pinning Alicia down with sheer exhaustion and hatred.
The referee dropped to her knees beside them, slapping the mat hard. *One!* The sound echoed in the sudden hush. Meg pressed her forehead into Alicia's collarbone, her breath ragged. *Two!* Alicia's legs thrashed weakly beneath Meg's hips, a final, desperate spasm. Her heels drummed a frantic, silent beat on the canvas. Her hand scrabbled blindly at Meg's sweat-slicked back, fingers brushing a raw welt from the cane. Meg hissed at the fresh jolt of pain but held firm, grinding her weight down. *THR--!* Alicia's shoulder surged upwards with a guttural roar ripped from her very core. Not much, just an inch. Just enough to lift Meg's torso slightly off the mat. The referee's hand froze, hovering above the third slap. The crowd's roar exploded like a bomb. *She kicked out! At two!*
Meg recoiled as if burned, scrambling backwards on her elbows. Disbelief warred with fury. *How?* She stared at the naked, broken woman beneath her. Alicia's chest heaved, her eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking into her matted hair. Her body was a canvas of purple and red – stomp marks on her ass, deep bruises blooming across her ribs, scratches raking her back. But she was breathing. Fighting. *Still fighting.* The kick-out wasn't just a move; it was a slap in Meg's face. She hadn't broken her enough. Not nearly enough.
Alicia rolled onto her stomach with a groan that sounded ripped from her guts. Her limbs trembled violently as she pushed herself onto her hands and knees. Sweat dripped from her chin, forming dark spots on the canvas. Her head hung low, blonde hair a tangled curtain hiding her face. Every muscle quivered with the effort of simply holding herself off the mat. The crowd's roar was a physical thing, vibrating the ring floor beneath her raw knees. She didn't look at Meg. She focused only on the canvas inches in front of her hands, the grit digging into her palms. *Get up. Get up. Get UP.*
Meg saw Alicia move. The sight stabbed through her exhaustion like a knife. *No.* She planted her own hands flat, knuckles white. Her back screamed in protest, the cane welts burning as if freshly struck. She sucked in a ragged breath that tasted of sweat. Her arms shook, threatening to buckle. She locked her elbows, refusing to collapse. Inch by agonizing inch, she dragged one knee forward, then the other. Her vision swam, the bright lights overhead blurring into painful halos. The referee hovered nearby, her face a mask of disbelief. Meg ignored her. Her entire world narrowed to the trembling form of Alicia Silverstone, also rising from the dead like a nightmare.
They met in the center of the ring. Not standing. Kneeling. Face to face, barely a foot apart. Sweat dripped from their chins onto the canvas between them. Alicia’s eyes were slits of pure hatred The crowd noise was a distant, roaring ocean. Neither woman heard it. They only saw each other. it all condensed into this single, brutal moment on their knees. Alicia swung first. A clumsy, exhausted haymaker. Meg didn’t duck. She took it square on the jaw. Her head snapped sideways. Pain exploded, bright and hot. But she didn’t fall. She swung back. Her fist connected with Alicia’s already bruised ribs. A sickening *thud*. Alicia gasped, folding forward. Meg grabbed a fistful of tangled blonde hair and yanked Alicia’s head back up. Spit flew from Meg’s mouth. "Still. Not. Enough!" she rasped, punctuating each word with a short, vicious punch to Alicia’s exposed stomach. Alicia gagged, her body convulsing.
Meg shoved Alicia backwards onto the mat. Alicia landed hard on her back, naked and gasping. Meg crawled forward, straddling Alicia’s waist. Her knees dug into Alicia’s bruised hips. Alicia’s hands came up, weak and trembling, trying to push Meg off. Meg slapped them away easily. She raised her own fist, trembling with exhaustion, and brought it down. Not hard. But relentless. Thump. Thump. Thump. Each blow landed on Alicia’s bare tits, her shoulders, and her collarbone. Alicia’s head lolled. Her arms dropped limply to her sides. Her eyes rolled back, showing the whites. The crowd counted each dull impact like a drumbeat. Meg’s knuckles were Alicia’s skin was a mess of red marks blooming purple beneath the surface. Sweat dripped from Meg’s nose onto Alicia’s swollen face.
Meg collapsed on top of her and the referee dropped beside them. Her hand slapped the mat. *One!* Meg leaned her full weight onto Alicia’s chest, pinning her flat. She felt Alicia’s ribs creak beneath her. Alicia’s breath hitched, a wet, ragged sound. *Two!* Meg pressed her forehead against Alicia’s, grinding her skull down. She tasted the salt of Alicia’s sweat, smelled the "Stay... down..." Meg rasped, her voice a broken whisper. Alicia’s body shuddered violently beneath her. Her legs kicked out in one last, feeble spasm. Her heels scraped the canvas uselessly. *THR—!
Alicia kicked out. Again. Her shoulder surged off the mat just before the referee’s hand slapped for the third time. The roar of the crowd shook the arena. Meg screamed, a raw sound of pure frustration, and scrambled off Alicia’s chest. Her muscles screamed in protest, the cane welts on her back burning like fire. She stumbled backward, tripping over Alicia’s limp leg, and crashed hard onto her ass. Dust puffed up around her. She pounded the canvas with her fist. "Why won’t you stay down?" she shrieked, her voice cracking.
Alicia didn’t move at first. She lay sprawled on her back, naked and broken, her chest heaving. Sweat and spit smeared her face. Her eyes were unfocused slits. But slowly, painfully, a crooked smile twisted her swollen lips. It wasn’t smug. It was raw, ugly, and full of hate. "Scared... Meg?" Alicia gasped, the words barely audible over the crowd. Her voice was a wrecked whisper, but it cut through the noise like a knife. "Scared... of little... old me?" She coughed, a wet, rattling sound. "You hit like... a weak bitch." A weak, rasping laugh escaped her, ending in a wince of pain. "That all... you got?"
Meg yanked her by her to her feet. She swung, Alicia ducked. Meg's fist whistled past Alicia's ear. Alicia lunged, tackling Meg around the waist. They crashed to the mat in a tangle of limbs. Alicia scrambled on top, pinning Meg's shoulders with her knees. Her hands flew to Meg's bikini top straps. The crowd roared. Alicia grinned down, sweat dripping onto Meg's titties. "Look at you," she hissed. "Pathetic." Meg bucked wildly, throwing Alicia off balance. Alicia's hand shot out, grabbing Meg's hair again. She slammed Meg's head into the canvas. Once. Twice. Meg saw stars. Her vision swam. Alicia leaned close, her breath hot on Meg's ear. "Say it," she whispered. "Say you're scared." Meg spat in her face. Alicia recoiled, wiping her eye. Meg used the moment. She drove her knee up hard into Alicia's pussy. Alicia yelped, her grip loosening. Meg shoved her off, rolling away. Both women lay gasping, inches apart, too exhausted to stand. The crowd chanted. "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Meg turned her head. Alicia turned hers. Their eyes met. Pure, burning hate. Meg spat again. It landed on Alicia's cheek. Alicia didn't wipe it away. She just smiled that ugly, broken smile. "Weak," she mouthed. Meg screamed and launched herself at Alicia. They rolled, punching, scratching, biting. No technique. Just raw, naked fury. This was personal. Meg's knuckles were raw. They rolled towards the ropes. Meg ended up on top, straddling Alicia's waist. She raised her fist. Alicia grabbed her wrist. They strained, trembling. Muscles screamed. Sweat dripped. Neither gave an inch. The crowd held its breath. The arena lights glared down. The jumbotron showed their locked hands, shaking with effort. Meg leaned close. "You... first," she gasped. Alicia's eyes blazed. "Never," she choked out. Their faces were inches apart. Spit and sweat.
The jumbotron watched their tits and ass cheeks jiggling. Meg's knuckles were white where Alicia gripped her wrist. Alicia's teeth were gritted, her eyes narrowed to slits. "Meg leaned closer, her breath on Alicia's face. "You're... done," she rasped. Alicia's grip tightened. "Not... yet," she choked back. Their arms trembled.
It looked like the roughest fucking you ever saw. Alicia's hips bucked wildly under Meg, trying to throw her off. Their slick skin slapped together with each violent twist. Meg's thighs clamped tighter around Alicia's waist, grinding her bare ass into the canvas. Her grip on Meg's wrist slipped. Just an inch. But it was enough. Meg wrenched her fist free and slammed it down. Not at Alicia's face. Lower. Hard into her ribs. Alicia's body arched off the mat, a silent scream tearing from her throat. Her eyes bulged. Her mouth gaped open, sucking air that wouldn't come.
The crowd noise vanished for Meg. All she saw was Alicia's open mouth, gasping like a fish. Rage, hot and blinding, surged through her exhausted limbs. She didn't think. She shoved her hand down, Her fingers weren't gentle. They plunged into Alicia's mouth, deep, scraping against teeth, gagging her. Alicia's eyes snapped wide, pure terror replacing the hate. She tried to bite down, but Meg shoved harder, forcing her jaw wider, her knuckles grinding against Alicia's gums. With her other hand, Meg grabbed a fistful of Alicia's hair, pinning her head to the mat. "Suck it, bitch!" Meg snarled, driving her fingers deeper down Alicia's throat. Alicia choked, her body convulsing, legs kicking uselessly. Tears streamed from her bulging eyes, mixing with the sweat and spit on her cheeks. The jumbotron zoomed in, showing Meg's fist buried to the wrist. Alicia was in agony.
It wasn't sex. It was punishment. Raw, degrading, and brutal.
Alicia gagged violently, her stomach heaving. She couldn't breathe. Her vision started to tunnel, darkness creeping in at the edges. Her hands, trembling wildly, shot down between Meg's legs. Not to fight. To survive. Her fingers, slick with sweat and her own, shoved two fingers deep into Meg. Hard. Upward. Twisting. Meg screamed, a high, animal sound. Her body arched violently. Her fingers ripped out of Alicia's mouth as she instinctively recoiled. Alicia gasped, rolling sideways, coughing and retching. Strings of spit hung from her swollen lips. She curled into a ball, naked body shuddering. Her ribs screamed where Meg had punched her. Her throat burned. But she was breathing. Barely.
Meg collapsed onto her back beside Alicia. Her legs trembled, thighs clamping together instinctively. The pain was immediate and shocking. A deep, sickening throb radiated from her core. It wasn't just the sudden, brutal intrusion; it felt like Alicia had clawed something raw inside her. Every nerve ending screamed. She pressed her hands hard between her legs, curling into a fetal position. Her teeth chattered. Sweat poured down her face, mixing with tears she couldn't stop. The arena lights blurred overhead. The crowd's roar sounded muffled, distant. All she felt was the relentless, pulsing agony radiating from her pussy. It stole her breath, her thoughts, everything but the raw sensation of violation and pain. Her knuckles were white against her skin. She rocked slightly, a low whine escaping her lips.
Alicia lay curled nearby, coughing violently. Each hack rattled her bruised ribs, sending fresh jolts of agony through her chest. Strings of thick spit hung from her swollen lips onto the canvas. Her throat burned where Meg's fingers had scraped raw. Her stomach clenched, threatening to heave again. Her eyes watered, blurring the harsh glare of the overhead lights. She felt hollowed out, scraped clean. Every inch of her skin screamed – the stomp marks on her ass throbbed, the welts on her back burned, her ribs felt like cracked glass shifting with each ragged breath. She pressed her forehead to the gritty mat, trying to anchor herself against the spinning dizziness. *Move. Get up. Before she does.* The thought was faint, drowned out by the sheer weight of her broken body. But the image of Meg's triumphant sneer flickered behind her eyelids. Hatred, colder and sharper than any pain, cut through the fog. *Not yet.* With a groan that tore from her ruined throat, Alicia planted one shaking hand flat. Then the other. She pushed, muscles screaming in protest. Her arms trembled violently, threatening to buckle. She lifted her torso off the mat, inch by agonizing inch, her head hanging low, blonde hair dragging through the sweat and spit pooled beneath her.
Meg saw the movement through the haze of her own pain. The pulsing agony radiating from her core was a white-hot brand, stealing her breath and twisting her insides. She clutched herself tighter, rocking slightly, tears mixing with the sweat dripping onto the canvas. *Get up. Get UP!* But her body refused. Her legs felt numb, disconnected. The cane welts across her back throbbed in time with the deeper, sickening ache between her thighs. She saw Alicia rising, slowly, painfully, like some broken puppet being pulled upright by hateful strings. Panic, sharp and acidic, cut through Meg's agony. *No. Not after what she did. Not like this.* Gritting her teeth until her jaw ached, Meg forced her trembling arms to push. Her elbows dug into the mat. She dragged her hips forward, ignoring the fresh wave of torment that lanced through her. Every movement was fire. Her vision swam. She focused only on Alicia's trembling form, now kneeling, head still bowed, shoulders heaving.
Alicia saw Meg move. The sight ignited a furnace inside her battered chest. *No.* She couldn't let Meg recover. Not after the fingers down her throat, the violation. Using the ropes for leverage, Alicia hauled herself upright. Her legs buckled instantly, but she locked her knees, swaying violently. The world tilted. She gasped, sucking air into her bruised lungs. Her ribs screamed. Her throat burned. But she was standing. Naked, bruised, bleeding from scratches, her blonde hair plastered obscenely to her face and shoulders, she stood. She raised her fists, knuckles raw and split. The roar of the crowd hit her like a physical blow, but she didn't hear words, only noise. Her eyes, swollen slits, fixed on Meg, still struggling on her hands and knees near the center of the ring.
Meg saw Alicia rise. The panic solidified into pure, volcanic rage. *Her? Standing? After what she did?* The agony radiating from her core became fuel. With a guttural scream ripped from her very soul, Meg shoved herself up. Her legs trembled like saplings in a storm. She staggered, almost fell, but caught herself. She stood, hunched over, one hand instinctively pressed low against the throbbing pain between her legs. Sweat poured down her face, stinging her eyes. But she was up. Facing Alicia. The hatred between them crackled in the air, thicker than the arena heat.
Their naked bodies collided in the center of the ring like two wrecking balls. No grace. No strategy. Just raw, desperate fury unleashed. Alicia swung first, a wild haymaker aimed at Meg's jaw. Meg ducked clumsily, the punch whistling over her head. She drove her shoulder into Alicia's bruised midsection. A wet *thump* echoed as Alicia folded, gasping. Meg grabbed a handful of tangled blonde hair, yanking Alicia's head back. She drove her fist into Alicia's exposed throat. Once. Twice. Alicia gagged, eyes bulging, clawing at Meg's forearm. Meg slammed her knee up into Alicia's pussy. Hard. Alicia crumpled, collapsing to her knees, retching.
Meg staggered back, breathing hard. Her own core throbbed viciously. She spat on the canvas near Alicia's heaving form. "Stay... down..." she rasped, her voice shredded. Alicia coughed violently, strings of spit hanging from her lips. She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and full of venom. Slowly, painfully, she pushed herself back onto her feet. She swayed, but stayed
upright. Without a word, she lunged. Not at Meg's body. At her legs. She tackled Meg low, driving her shoulder into Meg's thighs. Meg cried out as her legs buckled. They crashed to the mat in a heap. Alicia scrambled on top, pinning Meg's hips with her knees. Her fists rained down – short, brutal punches to Meg's ribs, her stomach, her tits. Meg bucked wildly, trying to throw her off. Alicia grabbed Meg's hair, slamming her head into the canvas. Meg saw stars. Her vision blurred. "Scared... now?" she hissed. Meg spat onto Alicia's cheek. Alicia reared back, wiping her face. Meg seized the moment. She hooked her leg around Alicia's neck, pulling her down into a clumsy leglock. She squeezed with every ounce of strength left in her trembling legs. Alicia thrashed, her face pressed against Meg's sweaty thighs. Her hands scrabbled frantically, legs kicked wildly. A choked gurgle escaped her lips. Meg tightened the hold, grinding her thighs into Alicia's temple. "Give... up..." Meg gasped. Alicia's thrashing grew weaker. Her eyes rolled back. The referee dropped beside them, watching Alicia's free hand. It slapped the mat weakly. Once. Twice.
Suddenly, Alicia surged upward. Not tapping. Exploding. With a roar ripped from her gut, she shoved Meg's legs away violently. Meg gasped, the sudden release leaving her vulnerable. Alicia scrambled backwards, her chest heaving. She grabbed the top rope, hauling herself up. Her eyes locked onto Meg, who was struggling to sit up. Pure, unholy fury burned in Alicia's gaze. She stumbled forward, her movements fueled by hate. Meg saw her coming. She tried to scramble away on her elbows. Too slow. Alicia dove onto Meg's back, wrapping her arms around Meg's waist and locking her hands together. She hauled Meg upright with a strength born of desperation. Meg screamed, her bare feet kicking inches above the mat. Alicia stumbled backwards, dragging Meg with her. The crowd roared, sensing the end. Alicia reached the center of the ring. She paused, straining under Meg's weight. Her muscles trembled violently. Sweat poured down her face. She took one staggering step forward, then planted her feet. With a guttural scream that echoed through the Garden, Alicia hoisted Meg higher, bending her body backward over her shoulder. Meg's arms flailed uselessly. Her eyes widened in terror. Alicia paused for a split second, the entire arena holding its breath. Then she threw Meg backward with every ounce of rage left in her broken body. She nearly slammed her through the mat.
Meg crashed down onto her back with a sickening thud that shook the ring. Her head snapped back, bouncing off the canvas. Her arms flew out wide. Her legs kicked once, spasmodically. Her eyes rolled back, showing only white. She didn't move. She didn't make a sound. She lay utterly still, naked and broken. Alicia collapsed forward like a puppet with its strings cut. She landed heavily on top of Meg's motionless chest, her head lolling onto Meg's shoulder. Her own eyes fluttered shut. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. Her limbs felt like lead weights. She couldn't lift her head. She couldn't move. The exhaustion was total, absolute. The referee scrambled over, her face grim. She dropped beside the tangled heap of battered flesh. Her hand slapped the mat. *One!* Alicia felt the vibration through Meg's chest beneath her. *Two!* The referee's hand hovered. Alicia couldn't lift her own shoulder. She couldn't kick out. She couldn't even twitch. She lay draped over Meg, utterly spent. The referee's hand slammed down a third time. *THREE!* The bell clanged wildly. The roar of the crowd was deafening, shaking the very foundations of Madison Square Garden. Alicia didn't hear it. She felt only the naked tits on her cheeks and the stillness of the woman beneath her.
Alicia Silverstone had won. The words echoed dully in her shattered mind as she lay draped over Meg Ryan's motionless body. The referee's hand slapping the mat for the third time. The deafening roar of the crowd shaking the ring beneath her. She'd done it. She'd beaten Meg Ryan in Madison Square Garden. Through the blinding haze of pain – her throat raw from Meg's fingers, her ribs screaming, her entire body a map of bruises and welts – a jagged sliver of triumph pierced the fog. It wasn't joy. It was savage satisfaction. *She stayed down. Finally.* Alicia tried to lift her head from Meg's sweaty shoulder, but her neck muscles screamed in protest. All she could see was the blurry glare of the arena lights reflecting off Meg's vacant, rolled-back eyes.
Slowly, agonizingly, Alicia rolled off Meg's chest. She landed heavily on her back beside her fallen rival, staring up at the blinding jumbotron. It showed her own battered face, swollen and bleeding, then zoomed out to capture the scene: two naked, broken women glistening under the harsh lights, Alicia struggling to breathe, Meg utterly still. The ring mat felt gritty against her raw skin. Distantly, she heard the ring announcer's booming voice cutting through the crowd's frenzy: "...YOUR WINNER... AND ADVANCING TO THE SEMI-FINALS... ALICIA SILVERSTONE!" The roar intensified. They tried to lift her arm in victory. She couldn't hold it up. It flopped limply back to the canvas. *Cameron Diaz.* The name surfaced through the pain like a shark fin. Cameron Diaz was next. Taller. Stronger. Faster. Fresh. The thought sent a fresh wave of exhaustion crashing over her. How? How could she possibly face *her* after this?
