AGW 1st RD match 3/8: Isabela Merced vs Jessica McNamee

[oddities]

ISABELA MERCED (5'2)



vs

Jessica McNamee (5'6)




The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as Isabela adjusted the strap of her gold bikini. Across the ring, Jessica cracked her knuckles, the silver sheen of her outfit catching the glare of the arena spotlights. They both felt looked over.

The winner of this match would face either Taylor Swift or Hayden Panettiere--and they were already being declared the winner.

Jessica leaned against the turnbuckle, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist. The crowd's roar faded into a dull hum as she locked eyes with Isabela across the ring. "You know," she said, voice carrying just enough to be heard over the noise, "I've got bigger things waiting after this." The words weren't a taunt, just a fact, delivered with the casual certainty of someone who'd already mapped out the next five years.

Isabela didn't bother hiding her smirk. "Funny," she said, stepping forward, "I was about to say the same thing. Except--" Her foot slammed into the mat for emphasis. "*I'll* be the one walking out of here with a ticket to the next round." The audience erupted, some booing, some cheering, all of them leaning in closer.

Isabela lunged first, her fingers wrapping around Jessica's wrist. Jessica countered instantly, twisting her arm to break the hold before driving her shoulder into Isabela's midsection--but Isabela anticipated it, pivoting so Jessica's momentum carried her past, stumbling just enough for Isabela to lock her in a headlock. The crowd gasped as Jessica's face flushed, her hands clawing at Isabela's thighs, but Isabela held firm.

Jessica's fingers dug into Isabela's forearm as she arched her back--just enough to shift her weight and flip Isabela over her shoulder. The crowd roared as Isabela hit the mat with a thud, but she rolled sideways before Jessica could pin her, springing back up with a grin that said *nice try*. They circled each other again.

They locked again--this time with Isabela's forearm pressed against Jessica's throat, her other hand gripping the back of Jessica's head like a vise. The crowd's noise swelled into a wall of sound, but all Jessica could hear was the rush of blood in her ears and Isabela's breath against her cheek.

Isabela's knee shot up. It wasn't a full-force strike, more of a warning shot, but the way Jessica's legs momentarily buckled told the crowd everything they needed to know. A scattered mix of gasps and cheers rippled through the arena as Jessica staggered back, her olive bikini shifting with the sudden movement as she grabbed her pussy.

Isabela followed it up with a  body blow, but somehow managed to hook her fingers into Isabela's waistband, yanking her down and exposing a brief glimpse of Isabela's pussy hair.

Jessica's knee jerked up with enough force to send Isabela tumbling backward over the top rope.  Isabela's body twisted mid-air, her hands grabbing for the ropes but finding only air. She hit the  floor with a thud. Isabela's bare ass hit the arena floor with a slap that echoed through the first few rows--the kind of impact that made the crowd collectively wince before erupting into laughter. Her gold bikini bottom barely clung to one hip as her cheeks jiggled, the bounce exaggerated by the unforgiving concrete beneath her. A few drunk guys in the front row hollered something obscene, but Isabela was already rolling onto her knees, her dark eyes flashing with something between embarrassment and fury. Jessica smirked down at her from the ring apron, one hand lazily gripping the top rope like she had all the time in the world.

"Get your ass down here and fight me like you mean it!" Isabela snarled, scrambling to her feet and slapping a palm against the ring apron hard enough to sting. The crowd roared at the challenge, their laughter dissolving into anticipation.

Jessica hesitated for a fraction of a second--long enough for Isabela to see the calculation flicker behind her eyes--before she swung one leg over the top rope, then the other, descending to the floor with the deliberate grace of someone who knew exactly how to make an exit look like a threat. Isabela backed up another step, arms spread in mock invitation, her bare feet scuffing against the concrete. The crowd's noise swelled, a tidal wave of anticipation crashing over them both.

Jessica hit the floor running--literally. Her bare feet slapped against the concrete as she charged Isabela with a reckless momentum that made the crowd gasp. Isabela barely had time to brace before Jessica's shoulder plowed into her stomach, lifting her clean off her feet. They crashed into the barricade together, Isabela's back taking the brunt of the impact as the metal rattled behind her. The crowd surged forward, fingers clawing at the air like they could somehow touch the frenzy unfolding inches away.

Isabela's fingers tangled in Jessica's hair. She could've kneed her--should've--but Jessica was already twisting, her fist driving upward into Isabela's abs. The air left Isabela's lungs, but she didn't let go, her other hand clawing at Jessica's bikini top until one strap snapped. Jessica retaliated by hooking two fingers into Isabela's waistband and yanking--hard. The gold fabric tore at the seam, leaving Isabela's left cheek bare under the arena lights. The crowd howled.

Jessica's left tit bounced free as the torn strap of her olive bikini top dangled uselessly against her ribs. The crowd's roar hit a fever pitch--some whistling, some jeering, all of them leaning in closer like vultures circling roadkill. Isabela didn't even glance down at her own predicament, the torn gold fabric of her bikini bottom barely clinging to her right hip, her left cheek fully exposed to the arena's unforgiving lights.

Isabela shoved her away, but Jessica grabbed her by the arm and threw her into the ring apron. Her ribs connected with the steel edge of the ring apron, the impact rattling her teeth."Still think you're walking out of here on your own?" Jessica hissed, voice low enough that only Isabela could hear.

She threw Isabella back into the ring,  leaned in--her teeth catching the fabric with a sharp, deliberate tug. The sound of tearing fabric cut through the noise, followed by a collective gasp as the bikini bottom gave way entirely, leaving Isabela bare from the waist down under the blinding arena lights.

Jessica didn't hesitate. With one sharp motion, she shoved the torn scrap of Isabela's gold bikini bottom into her mouth, muffling whatever retort was about to come. The fabric tasted like sweat and cheap polyester, and Isabela gagged around it instinctively, her hands flying up to claw at Jessica's wrists. The crowd's reaction was immediate--a mix of shocked laughter and scandalized gasps that rippled through the arena like a current. Jessica leaned in, her breath hot against Isabela's ear. "Chew on that, bitch." she muttered.

Isabela's fingers twitched toward the mat--an involuntary spasm of muscle memory, the ghost of surrender flickering through her nerves--but she clenched her fist instead, knuckles pressing into the unforgiving canvas. The taste of synthetic fabric clung to her tongue, bitter and suffocating, but she refused to gag again, refused to give Jessica the satisfaction. She could feel the crowd's eyes like brands against her bare skin, the fluorescent lights amplifying every tremor of her thighs, every desperate breath.

Isabela's teeth sank into Jessica's hand with a ferocity that made the crowd gasp. Jessica's scream was raw and unfiltered. Isabela held on, her jaw locked tight, until Jessica wrenched her hand free. She staggered back, cradling her hand. The imprint of Isabela's teeth stood out. She hissed through clenched teeth, shaking her wrist as if that could somehow fling away the pain. The crowd's jeers blurred into white noise as she blinked hard, willing her vision to clear.

Isabela rolled onto her side, coughing into the crook of her elbow. Each spasm sent a fresh ripple of agony through her, but she refused to stay down. The torn scrap of her bikini bottom still dangled from her mouth like some grotesque trophy, and she spat it onto the mat with a wet, disgusted sound. Her throat burned where Jessica's forearm had crushed her windpipe, every breath scraping like sandpaper.

Isabela's fingers closed around the torn remains of her gold bikini bottom--still damp with sweat and clinging to her palm like a second skin--and with a whip-fast motion, she hurled it square into Jessica's smirking face. The fabric slapped against her nose and mouth with a wet smack, momentarily obscuring her vision. The crowd exploded into laughter, some half-drunk guy in the front row howling, Jessica reeled back, hands flailing to peel the fabric off her face, her olive bikini top hanging by a thread and doing nothing to hide the furious flush creeping down her chest.

As Jessica was trying to rip the bikini bottoms from her face and tend to her hand, Isabel was climbing to the top rope-- and she jumped, her bare legs pistoning forward mid-flight, knees driving toward Jessica's tits. Time dilated in that suspended moment--the way Jessica's head snapped up, the torn bikini top finally giving way entirely as she raised her arms too late, Isabel drove her knees deep into the now exposed titties of Jessica and crushed her.

The impact sent Jessica sprawling backward, her bare back hitting the mat with a dull thud that reverberated through the ring. Isabela didn't waste a second--she lunged forward, her knees straddling Jessica's waist, her palms slamming Jessica's wrists into the canvas with enough force to make the ropes tremble. The crowd's noise swelled into a deafening crescendo as Isabela arched her back, pressing her full weight down, her bare thighs squeezing Jessica's ribs like a vise.

Jessica's shoulders twitched off the mat at the last possible second--just as the ref's hand came down for the third time. Two. Only a two-count. The collective groan from the crowd was louder than the initial cheers. Isabela's grip tightened on Jessica's wrists, her bare thighs trembling with the effort of holding her down. "Stay," she hissed through clenched teeth, but Jessica's hips bucked violently beneath her, sending Isabela lurching forward. Their foreheads collided with a sickening crack that echoed through the arena.

They were both out.

The impact of their skulls colliding sent a shockwave of white-hot pain through both women, their bodies going slack simultaneously. Isabela slumped forward, her forehead pressed against Jessica's, their sweat mingling as they teetered on the edge of consciousness. The crowd's roar faded into a distant murmur, the arena lights blurring into a hazy halo above them.

Isabela collapsed on top of Jessica, putting her in a pinning position.

The referee's hand slapped the mat twice--sharp, decisive--before Jessica's shoulder twitched up at the last possible second. The crowd groaned in unison, their collective disappointment palpable as Isabela exhaled sharply through her nose, her thighs still locked around Jessica's waist. "You're like a goddamn cockroach," Isabela muttered, her voice ragged. Jessica's only response was a wheeze of laughter, her chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid bursts beneath Isabela's weight.

Isabela's fingers dug into Jessica's exposed nipple like a vice grip, twisting it sharply between her thumb and forefinger. Jessica's whole body jerked as if electrocuted, her back arching off the mat in a spasm of pain--her olive bikini top now completely shredded, her breasts swaying freely with every ragged breath. The crowd's laughter erupted into a deafening mix of cheers and gasps, some fans clutching their own chests reflexively.

She kept squeezing--not just the nipple, but everything. The air between them crackled with something beyond pain or competition, something raw and electric that made the crowd's noise fade into a distant hum. Isabela's fingers didn't let up, her knuckles whitening as Jessica's skin flushed an angry red beneath her grip. Jessica's  teeth bared in a snarl that wasn't quite a smile, but close. "You--*fuck*--" she managed, her voice strangled, but Isabela leaned in, her sweat-slicked forehead pressing against Jessica's.

Jessica's fingers tangled in Isabela's sweat-damp hair like roots snaking through wet earth--unyielding, relentless. She didn't just pull; she *wrenched*, twisting the dark strands around her fist until Isabela's scalp burned white-hot. She growled and yanked harder.

Jessica's grip on Isabela's hair tightened like a noose, the strands pulling taut against her scalp with a vicious, searing pain that made Isabela's vision blur. She arched backward instinctively, her spine bending under the force, but her hands didn't relent--her fingers twisted Jessica's nipple harder, nails digging into the flushed skin. Jessica didn't let go. Instead, she yanked again, harder, dragging Isabela's head down until their foreheads collided with a dull crack that echoed through the arena. The crowd roared, a tidal wave of noise crashing over them as they clung to each other, locked in a brutal stalemate. Their bodies trembled against each other, not from exhaustion but from the sheer intensity of it, muscles locking and twitching like live wires. Every breath was a struggle, every movement a negotiation between agony and defiance. The crowd's noise blurred into static, distant and irrelevant, as if the world had narrowed to just the two of them--their sweat-slicked skin, their clenched teeth, the way their limbs shook with the effort of not letting go.

Jessica's fingers twitched against the mat once--twice--before her palm slapped the canvas in rapid, desperate succession. The crowd's roar surged like a storm as the referee dove between them, wrenching Isabela's grip from Jessica's nipple with a sharp whistle. Isabela barely registered the sound, her body still coiled tight with adrenaline, her thighs locked around Jessica's waist like steel bands. It wasn't until the ref pried her fingers open--peeling them back one by one with surprising strength--that she realized Jessica's chest was heaving, her lips parted in silent, shuddering gasps.

The bell clanged overhead, but Isabela didn't move. Not yet.  The arena lights haloed around them, casting long shadows across Jessica's flushed face, her chest still rising and falling. Isabela's thumb traced the angry red mark she'd left on Jessica's nipple--a slow, deliberate drag of skin against skin that made Jessica wince.. "That," Isabela murmured, voice thick with satisfaction, "is how you lose."

She shoved Isabela's hand away with more force than necessary, her palm slapping against Isabela's wrist with a sharp crack. "Fuck off," she spat, voice hoarse but venomous.

Isabela rolled off Jessica's limp body, her bare thighs leaving slick streaks of sweat on the mat as she dragged herself upright. The crowd's noise hit her like a wall--some cheering, some booing, all of them hungry for more.  "This tournament?" she said, loud enough for the mic to catch it. Her voice was raw, but the grin was all teeth. "I'm taking it."

[tr0tz]

Both are cuuuuuute!

[tr0tz]