I tried the story with the addition of Emily Deschanel, but I didn't like it; it didn't make any sense. So it's just one vs one like the others With the bell's ding still echoing through the arena, Zoey and Ella lunge at each other like animals, hands tangling in a vicious tug-of-war with each other's hair. They stumble and weave around the ring, pulling, pushing, and yanking with all their might, their toned bodies twisting and contorting in the struggle. Ella manages to wrench a handful of her hair free, but Zooey retaliates by kneeing her in the stomach, driving the air from her lungs.
Zoey, seizing the moment, entwines her fingers in Ella's blonde locks, using them as a handle to launch the younger woman clear across the ring. Ella crashes into the turnbuckle, the impact reverberating through the arena. She clutches her head, dazed and reeling from the sudden assault, as Zoey stalks towards her, her expression now a twisted mask of concentration.
Zoey unleashes a punishing front kick to Ella's abdomen, sending her staggering back into the turnbuckle with a sickening thud. Ella groans, her body crumpling under the force of the blow as she slumps against the corner. Zoey doesn't give her a chance to recover, charging forward and unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks to Ella's midsection, her knuckles, and feet connecting with flesh and bone.
Each brutal impact jars Ella's body, her small breasts jostling and jiggling beneath the flimsy fabric of her bikini top. Zoey's mocking laughter rings out across the arena as she mocks Ella's chest. "What's wrong, princess? Can't take a punch?" she taunts, punctuating each word with a vicious strike to Ella's stomach. "Maybe if you had some real tits, you'd have some padding to absorb the blows." Ella grits her teeth, her cheeks burning with humiliation as she suffers the brutal assault and the cruel jeers.
Ella latches onto Zoey's foot.
She glares at Ella, her eyes blazing with rage as she nurses her injured foot. "You little bitch!" she snarls, launching herself at Ella with renewed vigor. But Ella isn't done fighting yet.
Ella, still on the ground, swings her leg with a surprising burst of speed and accuracy, her foot colliding with Zoey's jaw in a thunderous blow that sends the older woman sprawling backward onto the mat. Zoey clutches her face, her eyes watering as she struggles to get back to her feet. But Ella isn't about to let her off the hook so easily.
As Zoey staggers upright, her senses still reeling from the brutal kick, Ella launches herself from the top turnbuckle like a missile. She collides with Zoey's midsection in a devastating spear, driving her to the mat. The crowd gasps in awe, the air thick with tension and anticipation as Ella straddles Zoey's prone form, her hands wrapped around the older woman's throat.
Ella's hands tighten around Zoey's neck, her fingers digging into the delicate flesh. Zoey's face turns red, then purple, her eyes bugging out of her head as she struggles for air. Her feet kick against the mat as she searches for a way to free herself from the stranglehold. But every kick only serves to make her little white ass cheeks jiggle and clap together, a cruel mockery of her predicament.
Ella shifts her weight to trap one of Zoey's legs beneath her. She hooks the other over her knee, applying even more pressure to the pin. But before the third count can be made, Zoey breaks the pin, bridging her back and thrusting her hips skyward. The referee's hand hovers in the air, inches from the mat. Zoey, still wheezing and coughing, tries to roll away, but her limbs refuse to obey.
Ella retrieves a steel chair from beneath the ring, raising it high above her head.
"Say goodnight, bitch," she hisses.
Zoey's quick thinking saves her as she snatches the chair from Ella's grasp, her foot driving into Ella's shin. Ella screams as her leg gives out. Her chin smashes into the edge of the chair, and she collapses in a heap, the chair clattering to the mat beside her.
Zoey, seeing her chance, scrambles to her feet, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she hooks Ella's leg. The referee's hand slaps the mat once, then again, but Ella's shoulder pops up before the third count can be made.
Zoey shoves the chair into the corner of the ring, propping it against the turnbuckle like a weapon. She grabs Ella by the hair, wrenching her to her feet. Ella staggers, her head lolling from side to side, her body weakened by the brutal assault. With a vicious Irish Whip, Ella's body slams against the chair.
Zoey wastes no time, racing across the ring, she leaps into the air, her foot rocketing toward Ella's exposed face. The impact is devastating, Ella's head snapping backward against the chair. She collapses; eyes rolling back in her head. The crowd roars in approval, their bloodlust reaching a fever pitch as Zoey circles her fallen opponent like a vulture.
Another pin attempt; Zoey's eyes widen in disbelief as the referee's hand hovers mere inches from the mat, Ella's slender leg shooting up at the last second. Zoey seethes; She drags Ella's limp body to the center of the ring, positioning herself behind her prone form.
Zoey flips Ella over, her hands tugging at the waistband of her bikini bottoms. She yanks them down, exposing Ella's ass to the jeering crowd. She hurls the scrap of fabric into the air. Without hesitation, she places one foot on each of Ella's ass cheeks bouncing and grinding her heels into the soft flesh. Ella's body twitches and writhes with each impact, her ass quivering beneath Zoey's feet. She yanks Ella's hair, her fingers digging deep into the tangled strands. Ella's body arches in response, her back bowing off the mat as Zoey continues to trample her rear end. The muffled sound of flesh smacking against flesh echoes through the arena, punctuated by Ella's stifled groans.
She tries another pin.
The referee slides in for the count, but before the third slap of his hand, Ella kicks out, bucking and twisting her body to break the pin.
Zooey can’t believe it, her mind reeling at the realization that Ella refuses to stay down. She drops to her knees, her fingers digging into the mat as she struggles to process what's happening.
Ella and Zoey lie motionless, their sweat-slicked bodies heaving with each ragged breath. Their hair, damp with perspiration, falls across their faces, obscuring their expressions of pain and exhaustion. The referee stands over them.
It's a miracle, or perhaps a testament to their fierce determination, as both women begin to stir. They push against the mat, grunting and groaning as they struggle to their feet. Zoey's bikini bottoms have shifted during the struggle, the fabric wedged in her ass crack; One of her bikini cups has twisted to the side, exposing a tit. Ella's own bikini is in disarray, her toned body covered in sweat and bruises.
Ella's reflexes kick in just in time, her body ducking and weaving beneath Zoey's grasp. As Zoey charges past her, Ella pounces, her arms wrapping around Zoey's waist in a vice-like grip. She hoists Zoey into the air, slamming her spine-first onto the steel chair. She grabs hold of the bikini top with both hands, her biceps flexing as she wrenches the fabric tight. Zoey cries out, her body arching as she's lifted clear off the mat, suspended by the tortured bikini. Ella grins as she pulls and twists, stretching the bikini top to its breaking point. She presses her foot against Zoey's face, her heel digging into Zoey's cheek as she yanks on the bikini top with renewed force. The fabric finally gives way with a loud snap, the tattered remains fluttering to the mat. Zoey collapses to the ground, her tits bouncing free.
Ella's hand disappears between her thighs, the tattered bikini top gliding against her pussy; she flings them into Zooey’s face. Her hands clamped around Zoey's ankles, and her thighs and calves tensed with exertion as she pulled, stretching Zoey's legs skyward. She sinks down onto Zoey's chest, the older woman's heaving breasts pressed against her own. The referee drops to the mat, his hand slapping the canvas once, twice, but just before the third count, Zoey forces a shoulder off the mat. Ella's eyes widen in disbelief. She grabs hold of a table, dragging it out from beneath the ring, and sets it upright against the corner turnbuckle,
She grabs a handful of Zoey's hair, yanking her toward the far corner. She drives Zoey's back against the turnbuckle, her knee ramming into the older woman's stomach. She pulls back, ready to unleash Zoey into the unforgiving table, but Zoey counters with surprising speed, her arms lashing out to grab Ella's wrist. The momentum shifts as Zoey twists and hurls her toward the table. The sound of splintering wood echoes through the arena as Ella's body slams into the table, the structure collapsing beneath her weight. She hits the mat with a heavy thud, the debris of the shattered table scattering around her.
Zooey retrieves another table, dragging it into the ring. She snaps the table open, placing it in the center of the ring. And hoisting her onto the table. She leans over Ella's prone form, yanking the bikini top off her chest.
Zoey shoves the fabric into Ella's mouth, the material muffling any sound she might make. She follows it up with Ella's bikini bottoms, packing them into Ella's cheeks until her mouth is bulging.
She scales the turnbuckle, her muscles coiled like a spring as she perches at the peak. She launches herself from the turnbuckle, The crowd roars in anticipation, the sound rising to a deafening crescendo as Zoey lands on Ella's chest with a violent crash. The table shatters into a million pieces,
Zooey doesn’t move; she has knocked herself out on top of Ella.
One. Two. Three. The bell rings, signifying the end of the match, but there's no celebration, no triumph. Zoey lies motionless, her body draped across Ella's.
