Because bad times require bad girls...
Here's a return of a popular concept, BAD GIRLS TRIUMPHANT. Some of our favorite good girls losing decisively to sinister sirens!
Feel free to give us your wicked women winning, too!Kristen Stewart vs Emma Watson
The spectators...every last one a devoted supporter of Emma...sat in stunned silence. It was all going so terribly wrong....
It was supposed to be a crowning moment for Watson, the veritable Queen of British Catfighting. She would face her longtime nemesis, Kristen, in a lavish estate in the English countryside. Stewart had never before managed to defeat Watson on British soil, and the expectation was that Emma, who was very much at the peak of her powers, would have little trouble dispatching her rival yet again.
The American arrived alone, with not a single supporter present. But she couldn't care less if anyone was there to cheer her on. She was determined to beat Watson on her own turf, come hell or high water. What resulted was perhaps their wildest, most tumultuous brawl ever.
And for the last few minutes, control of the match had decisively been in Stewart's hands. Dazed and spent, Emma could no longer often more than token resistance as her nemesis battered her mercilessly. Now, adrenaline coursing through her veins, the American picked her English opponent up and held her horizontally in her arms, Kristen mewling in fear at what might come next.
Her fear was well-founded, as Kristen suddenly dropped to one knee and slammed Watson's back across her bent knee, the English lass's spine bent agonizingly backward from the impact. Keeping her foe draped across her knee, Kristen pushed her right hand down upon her victim's chin, while her left hand grasped and squeezed her groin, bending Watson back further still. Emma's pride refused to allow her to submit, but her moans and screams of anguish betrayed the savage pain she was enduring.
Finally her senses could take the pain no longer, and Emma passed out. Kristen roughly shoved her off of her knee and rolled her over onto her back. She then stood up and defiantly planted a foot on the chest of her beaten rival, declaring her victory and her opponent's destruction.
Ashley Tisdale vs Michelle Trachtenberg
Hooking her arms under Trachtenberg's knees, Tisdale listed the brunette up off of the carpet. Ashley then began to spin around and around, subjecting the yowling Michelle to a Whirlybird Twirl. As she was spun around, the hapless Michelle's senses were sent reeling; finally the blonde released her and her opponent sailed several feet through the air before crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.
Dizzy and dazed, Trachtenberg frantically struggled up to all fours and began to woozily crawl forward, desperate to somehow get away from her attacker. Wearing a smirk, Ashley sauntered after her, stepping up beside the retreating brunette and dropping to one knee. She then grabbed her adversary by her chestnut mane and pulled her bodily over the blonde's bent knee, Michelle draped on her belly and too weak and bewildered to pull free, she was helpless as Tisdale drew her right arm back, and then unleashed a stead stream of open-palm spanks to the brunette's swiftly reddening rear end!
Michelle yelped with every painful slap, tears streaking eye liner down her face...a face flushed with humiliation as her rival toyed with her. "You've had this coming to you for a long time, you goody two-shoes bitch!" Ashley gleefully said as her hand continued to blister the bottom of her opponent.
Finally, unable to endure the pain or the ignominy any longer, Trachtenberg blubbers,
"N-no more...stop! Please staaaaaapppp!" With a self-satisfied sneer, the blonde pushed her defeated foe to the floor, where Michelle rolled to her belly and buried her face in the plush carpeting to cry. Rising up, Tisdale planted a foot upon the bright red derriere of Michelle, drawing a whine of discomfort from the beaten girl, and raised her arms to accept the congratulatory cheers of the onlookers.
Ariel Winter vs Abigail Breslin
A chorus of alarm arose from the spectators as Abigail walked over to the fireplace and grasped hold of the cast iron poker. "Relax," she assured them, "I'm not going to use it on her. I mean, not exactly." She gave a saucy smirk, but her words silenced the concerns of the onlookers. And after all, why would the blonde even need a weapon, given how decisively she had been dominating her opponent for the past five or so minutes.
Indeed, the badly stunned Ariel was on her hands and knees, shaking her head to try and clear it. Bending down, Breslin slipped the poker underneath the back strap of the brunette's bikini halter. She then began to twist the metal rod, causing the strap to wind around it. Before she realize what was happening, Winter felt the fabric of her bra tightening; within moments, her 34D breasts were being mauled and crushed by her own halter top!
Abigail continued to twist the poker, pulling the fabric ever-tighter. Ariel's hands clutched in futility at the bra, frantic to somehow relieve the mounting pain. She moaned and gasped for breath as she found it harder to draw air into her lungs, her body drenched with sweat as her eyes began to glaze over from the torment.
Relief only came as the strain finally proved too much for the tog's construction, and the bra began to pull apart at the seams. Suddenly it fell in tatters to the floor, revealing Winter's swiftly bruising breasts. Grabbing her opponent by her dark hair, Breslin yanked her up to her feet and spun her around so that they were face to face. The blonde then voluntarily unhooked her own halter top, freeing her 34C's.
Slipping her arms underneath Ariel's own and wrapping them around her back, Abigail pulled her in tight and subjected the brunette to a bearhug, the pressure mashing their breasts together. However, the mauling she had just endured had left Winter's bosom so sore and tender, this new assault was excruciating. Winter wailed an wept, her body now as limp as a ragdoll in the clutches of her arch-rival. Breslin grinned as she felt her foe grow steadily weaker by the moment.
Lower lip quivering, Ariel finally rasps,
"Ahhh...give...uuuuuupppp...", her head lolling back and forth as she struggled to not pass out. But Abigail ignored her words and continued squeezing her, determined to knock her adversary out. That finish came soon enough, as the brunette passed out. Breslin let her drop to the floor, and then placed her foot upon Ariel's battered breasts, drawing a whimper of anguish from the conquered beauty.
