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RQT A-Lister Qualifying Match 3/4: H. Panetierre vs C. Underwood

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The crowd is roaring as the two celebrities stride into the ring, barefoot and in bikinis, each one eyeing the other warily. The sun glints off the sweat on their toned bodies as they circle each other, sizing up their opponent.
Carrie Underwood, a country music star with a fighter's spirit, moves with confidence and determination. Hayden Panettiere, a petite actress with a mean right hook, looks like she's ready to take on anyone.

The crowd is roaring as Hayden and Carrie shit talk each other while stepping closer and closer.
The tension is palpable as Hayden and Carrie stand face to face, their bodies barely an inch apart. The roar of the crowd swells around them, but the only thing on their minds is the battle that's about to unfold.

Ding! The bell sounds, and Carrie and Hayden launch into the fight, meeting in the center of the ring. Their bare feet dig into the canvas as they strain against each other, each one trying to gain the upper hand.

Muscles tense and sweat beads on their skin as they push back and forth, neither one giving an inch. The crowd roars as they watch the fierce struggle between these two determined women.
Carrie grunts, her teeth clenched as she leans her weight into Hayden. "You're not getting past me," she snarls.
"You little cxnt!" Hayden hisses.

In response, Carrie's expression hardens. With a lightning-fast move, she drives her knee into Hayden's groin; she collapses to the canvas.
The crowd goes wild, cheering and whistling as Carrie stands over her opponent,. Hayden clutches her crotch, whimpering as the pain radiates through her body.

Carrie growls as she leans down and hawks a massive spit onto Hayden's head.
 The crowd erupts in a frenzy, some booing Carrie's dirty move, but most cheering for the ruthless aggression that's already becoming her trademark.

Carrie takes a step back, a twisted smile on her face as she watches Hayden writhe in humiliation on the canvas.

Hayden is slow to rise, her body still recovering from the vicious knee to her groin. But she's not about to back down, and she glares at Carrie through narrowed eyes as she slowly climbs to her feet.

Carrie meets her stare with a smirk, her fists raised in a fighting stance. "Come on, princess," she taunts. "Let's see what you've got."
Hayden's lips curl into a sneer as she lunges forward, her small but powerful body colliding with Carrie's.

Carrie's body crashes into the ropes, the impact sending shockwaves through her bones. But she's not about to let Hayden get the upper hand. she grabs onto her opponent's body. She heaves Hayden over her shoulder and sends her flying through the middle of the ropes, the smaller woman's body hitting the hard floor outside the ring with a sickening thud.

The crowd gasps in shock, some rising to their feet to get a better view of the carnage. But Carrie doesn't have time to savor her victory.

Carrie launches herself over the ropes, her body arcing through the air like a missile. She crashes down onto Hayden's prone form with a bone-shaking impact, her weight driving the smaller woman into the hard ground. The force of Carrie's impact leaves her gasping for breath. She tries to roll away, but Carrie is already on top of her, raining down a flurry of punches on her unprotected face.

Carrie straddles Hayden's chest, her powerful thighs pinning the smaller woman to the ground. Her fists are a blur of motion as she pummels Hayden's face with savage blows, the sound of flesh on flesh punctuated by Hayden's grunts. But Carrie shows no mercy, her fists continuing to rain down with a brutal ferocity that would make a heavyweight boxer proud.

"What's the matter, cheerleader?" Carrie growls. "Can't regenerate from these punches like you did on Heroes?"

Hayden sobs, her body writhing beneath Carrie's punishing blows.

But Carrie isn't done yet. With one final, thunderous blow, she knocks Hayden's head to the side, leaving her dazed and barely conscious. She smirks triumphantly as she grabs a nearby fan's phone and holds it up for a selfie, her fist raised in a victory sign.

"Hey, can you get a shot of this for me?" she asks, her voice dripping with dark humor. "I want to remember how pathetic Hayden looked when I destroyed her."
The fan snaps a picture of Hayden's battered body lying motionless on the floor, her face destroyed.

Carrie snatches the phone and laughs. She towers over Hayden's prone form, a cruel smile twisting her lips. She snaps a few more pictures, making sure to capture every detail of Hayden's destroyed face.

"Man, she really let herself get trashed," she says with mock sympathy, shaking her head as she examines the pictures. "I guess not even superpowers can save you from a good old-fashioned ass-kicking."

She hands the phone back to the fan.

Carrie pulls Hayden's limp body into a sitting position. She leans in close, her lips hovering inches away from Hayden's swollen lips.

"Let's give the fans something they'll really remember," she whispers, her voice low and dangerous. With that, she presses her lips against Hayden's, forcing her tongue into the smaller woman's mouth. Hayden doesn't resist, her body too weak and battered to fight back. .

With a sadistic smile, Carrie backhands Hayden across the face, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing through the arena. Hayden's head snaps to the side.

Carrie doesn't even glance back as she turns and starts rooting under the ring, searching for something. The crowd buzzes with anticipation, wondering what she's planning next. Finally, Carrie emergess and she reveals her prize: a steel chair, its metal gleaming in the arena lights.

She  wedges the steel chair between the bottom rope, the metal groaning as she strains to position it just right.

"This is gonna hurt you.”

She turns back to Hayden, grabbing her by the hair and hauling her to her feet.  She Irish whips Hayden towards the chair, her muscles rippling with the force of the move.
Hayden reverses the Irish whip. Carrie's eyes go wide with shock as she realizes she's about to hit the chair, but it's too late.

Her head collides with the steel chair with a sickening crack, the impact sending her spinning like a top. She staggers, dazed and disoriented, her hands grasping at empty air.
Hayden seizes the moment, slamming her body into Carrie, propelling them both into the guard rail. Her eyes roll back in her head as every last ounce of air is driven from her lungs, her body limp and unresponsive.

The jumbotron captures the moment in glorious slow-motion, panning in on the bounce and jiggle of Hayden's bikini-clad ass cheeks as she collapses onto Carrie's lap.

Carrie's body is slumped against the guardrail, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow.
Hayden's face is buried in Carrie's lap, the fabric of her bikini bottoms soaked with sweat. The image is both tantalizing and disturbing, a perverse display of dominance that leaves the audience unsure whether to cheer or look away.
But the match isn't over yet.

Hayden stirs, her body shaking as she fights to regain her senses. She tries to push herself up, but her body is still weak and unsteady. She looks down at Carrie,

"Not done with you yet," she mutters, reaching down to grab the unconscious woman.

But Carrie's body reacts instinctively, her arms weakly slapping at Hayden's grasp. She's still out cold, but her body won't give in so easily.

Hayden stomps on Carrie's hand, the bones crunching audibly as they're crushed against the guardrail. Carrie's body twitches, but she doesn't wake up.
Undeterred, Hayden grabs Carrie's limp body and drags her towards the chair.  She positions the unconscious woman head against  the seat, propping her up like a ragdoll. For the next five minutes, Hayden unleashes a brutal assault on Carrie's body.

Hayden's fists are a blur of motion as she rains down blow after blow on Carrie's ripped body.
Each punch lands with a sickening thud, the sound of flesh hitting metal echoing through the arena. Carrie's head snaps back with every blow, her skull bouncing off the back of the chair. Her knuckles are red and raw, but she doesn't stop. She targets Carrie's abs, her tits, her ribs, landing punches with ruthless precision.

"Take this, bitch!" Hayden snarls  as she brings her fists down on Carrie's tits.

Over and over again, Hayden punches Carrie's breasts, her knuckles digging into the soft flesh. With each hit, Carrie's body jerks, her tits bouncing and swaying with the impact.
"One! Two! Three! Four!" Hayden counts out to herself each punch, her voice growing more manic as the blows land. "Fifty-seven! Fifty-eight! Fifty-nine! Sixty! Sixty-one!"

Hayden's fists are relentless as she brings them down on Carrie's tits over and over again.

"Sixty-seven! Sixty-eight! Sixty-nine! Seventy! Seventy-one!"

"Seventy-two! Seventy-three!"

With a final, savage blow, she stops, her chest heaving as she admires her handiwork

Carrie's body is a mess, her skin bruised, her tits swollen and disfigured from the brutal assault. Her eyes are open, but there's no life in them.
Her bikini top is little more than tatters now, the fabric ripped and shredded, leaving her breasts exposed for the world to see. But Hayden doesn't seem to care.

She grabs Carrie's limp body in a fireman's carry, hauling her up the steel steps like a hunter with her trophy. The crowd watches in awe as Hayden ascends to the top rope, Carrie's battered body slung over her shoulder. She  hurls Carrie's corpse into the ring, her body tumbling end over end before coming to a rest in the center of the ring. Without a moment's hesitation, Hayden leaps off the top rope and drives her knee into Carrie's face, the impact echoing through the arena; She goes for the pin

 But before the refs  hand can hit the mat a third time, Carrie's body bucks and kicks out, her foot slamming into the canvas with a thud.
The crowd explodes, their screams of shock and disbelief filling the arena. Hayden can't believe what she's just seen, her jaw dropping open in amazement as she stares down at Carrie's battered form. The match isn't over yet, and Carrie is still fighting.

The referee, her eyes wide with shock, approaches Hayden cautiously, as if she might be on the verge of collapse.
"You okay, Hayden?" She asks.

 She's completely frozen, unable to process what she's just seen.

"Hayden!" The referee snaps her fingers in front of her face.

Carrie staggers to her feet, every muscle in her body screaming with agony. She glares at the referee, and shoves her out of the way.She turns to Hayden, who is still frozen in shock.

Carrie wraps her arms around Hayden's waist, grunting as she tries to lift the limp body. With every step, Carrie's knees buckle, but she grits her teeth and continues, dragging Hayden towards the corner.

"Come on, you stupid bitch," Carrie growls through gritted teeth. "You're not getting out of this that easy."

Carrie's vision blurs as she pulls Hayden up the turnbuckle, her head spinning from exhaustion and pain. She clings to the ropes for dear life, her body swaying precariously as she teeters on the brink of consciousness.

"Don't...fall...now," she mutters to herself, her words slurring as she hoists Hayden onto the top rope. She pauses for a moment, her arms trembling with the effort of keeping herself upright, and gazes down at the ring below.

It seems so far away, the distance between the top rope and the canvas almost unfathomable.

Hayden's eyes snap open, her shock replaced by  rage. She launches herself at Carrie, her fists flying in a flurry of blows that rain down on the blonde's already battered body. Carrie returns the attack with equal ferocity, her own fists connecting with Hayden's face and ribs in a desperate bid to stay upright.
The crowd is a frenzy of cheers and shouts, their excitement reaching fever pitch as the two women trade blow for blow.

The two women fight on, their bodies moving with a reckless abandon as they claw and scratch at each other's bodies. Their bikini tops are torn away, leaving their tits exposed and jostling.

Hayden's knees buckle, but Carrie catches her before she can fall. The two women teeter on the edge of the turnbuckle, their bodies slick with sweat.

With every breath, their chests rise and fall against each other, their sweat-soaked skin sliding together. Their hands grapple for purchase on each other's bodies, fingers clawing at hair, skin, and muscle.

Carrie's eyes are glassy, her vision blurred. But she digs dee; she shoves Hayden back, sending her staggering to the side.

In a split-second, Carrie reacts, her hand shooting out to grab Hayden's arm as she tumbles over the edge of the turnbuckle. For a moment, it seems like they're both going to fall, their bodies teetering on the brink of disaster.
But then, in a move that defies physics and human limitations, Carrie digs her feet into the turnbuckle and yanks Hayden back onto the top rope.

With Hayden's body draped over her shoulders, Carrie summons every last ounce of strength she has. Her muscles strain and her teeth grit as she hoists Hayden up, the blonde's body hanging limply over her shoulders. For a moment, they stand like that, locked in a grim embrace. She hurls Hayden into the air, sending her plummeting towards the ring below.

Hayden's body slams into the canvas, her back arching as she crashes into the mat. Carrie pounces on Hayden's prone form, her hands snaking around the blonde's ankles and rolling her over onto her back. Hayden's legs are bent over her head, her body folded like a human pretzel

The referee drops to her knees beside them, hee hand poised to start the three-count.
"One!" She bellows, his voice echoing through the arena.

The crowd gasps, their eyes glued to the spectacle unfolding in the ring. Just when it seems like Carrie has secured the victory, Hayden's leg kicks out with a surge of strength.
"TWO!" the referee shouts, but Carrie's not finished yet.

 "You're not getting away that easy," she hisses, grabbing Hayden by the hair and hauling her up.
The blonde is limp in her grasp, her body a dead weight. But Carrie doesn't care.

 Hayden rolls her into a tight small package pin.
"TWO!" the referee cries, her hand slamming against the mat, but Carrie manages to kick out at the very last moment.

From there, the match devolves into an all-out brawl. The women tumble out of the ring, fighting in the crowd, using everything from chairs to tables as weapons. They slam each other's bodies into the steel steps, sending reverberations through the arena.

Sweat drips from their faces. They're barely recognizable as the two beautiful women who stepped into the ring.

They circle each other on the entrance ramp, their hands white-knuckled around the steel chairs. Carrie swings the chair, the metal connecting with Hayden's skull with a sickening thud.

Hayden staggers back, but she doesn't go down. Instead, she lunges forward, her own chair cracking against the side of Carrie's head.

Carrie kicks the chair into Hayden's face and she staggers backward, her body swaying like a drunkard's. But she doesn't fall.

Instead, she swings the chair wildly, catching Carrie on the side of the head. The blonde's head snaps back, but she stays on her feet, the chair falling from her hands.

They slam into each other, grappling for control of the chair. Carrie swings the chair like a battleaxe, raining blow after blow down on Hayden's back as they stumble back towards the ring. Hayden's screams of pain are drowned out by the deafening roar of the crowd.

Finally, they reach the ring, and Carrie propels Hayden between the ropes, shoving her back-first onto the apron.
With a maniacal grin, Carrie lifts the chair high above her head, bringing it down in a powerful arc that crushes Hayden's spine.

Hayden's body convulses, her legs kicking out spasmodically. Hayden's body goes limp, her eyes rolling back into her head as she sinks into the canvas. But Carrie is not faring much better, her own body shaking with exhaustion as she slumps over Hayden's battered form.

The referee drops to her knees, counting out the pinfall.
"One!"

The crowd holds its breath.
"Two!"
Hayden's body doesn't stir.
"THREE!"

The bell rings, signaling the end of the match. Carrie has won.

In the center of the ring, the referee raises Carrie's hand in victory, but the champion doesn't even respond. She's passed out, her body battered and broken, but victorious.

The crowd erupts in a deafening roar, their voices mingling together in a cacophony. It's a cheer of respect, of awe,  satisfaction at having witnessed such a brutal, epic match.


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Re: RQT A-Lister Qualifying Match 3/4: H. Panetierre vs C. Underwood
« Reply #1 on: October 25, 2024, 10:28:31 PM »
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