BEFORE:

Up next is another grudge match, a tie-breaker in a rivalry that has left both fighters battered and bruised, but hungry for more. Bojana Krsmanovic, a former VIXEN now representing the Pretty Little Punchers, takes the stage first. Her sleek black dress, cinched at the waist with a silver belt, hugs her statuesque frame. Her long dark hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail, with the scars from their previous encounters are faint but visible, a roadmap of a rivalry that has pushed both women to their limits.

Hailey Clauson, the reigning JMD champion of the BBU, follows. She exudes a playful confidence, her smile a stark contrast to the intensity in Bojana's eyes. Her outfit, a shimmering gold cocktail dress that accentuates her curves, is a statement of her glamorous reputation.

The MC steps up to the microphone, his voice a practiced calm. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another electrifying Queen of the Vixens press conference! Tonight, we're showcasing a grudge match that's been brewing for years. In the black corner, representing the Pretty Little Punchers, Bojana Krsmanovic!"

A roar erupts from the crowd, a mix of cheers and jeers that underscores the divided loyalties in the room. Bojana raises a hand in acknowledgment, her eyes never leaving Hailey's. There's no mistaking the animosity between them, a rivalry that has simmered for far too long.

"And in the gold corner," the MC continues, his voice laced with a hint of mischief, "the reigning JMDD champion, the pride of the SIRENs, Hailey Clauson!"

Another wave of cheers washes over the arena, this time accompanied by a chorus of whistles and catcalls. Hailey, her smile widening, blows a kiss to the crowd, her eyes sparkling with playful malice.

A reporter's hand shoots up, eager to ignite the verbal sparring. "Hailey, you've dominated the JMD scene for years. Are you worried about facing an opponent who knows your weaknesses so well?"

Hailey throws back her head and laughs. "Weaknesses?" she scoffs, her voice dripping with arrogance. "Bojana might know my style, but she doesn't have the power, the skill, or the stamina to beat me. This is my game, and she's just a pawn."

Bojana's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in them. "Don't underestimate me, Hailey," she retorts, her voice a low growl. "I've beaten you before, and I'll do it again. Remember those bruises you sported after our last encounter? I'll paint you an even prettier picture this time."

"You're all talk, Sparkle," Hailey retorts, her voice dripping with disdain. "Those bruises were just a warm-up. This time, I'm coming for your pretty little jugs, and I won't stop until you're begging for mercy."

A ripple of shock runs through the crowd. This level of aggression is unexpected, even for a VIX event. The air thickens with anticipation, the promise of a brutal brawl hanging heavy in the air.

"Mercy?" Bojana scoffs, her eyes flashing with a cold fire. "You're the one who'll be begging, Clauson. I'm going to dismantle you piece by piece, starting with those overinflated jugs of yours."

The MC interjects, "Ladies, ladies, let's keep it focused on the fight, shall we?" But the fighters are too far gone, their rivalry fueling a verbal exchange that's as brutal as it is captivating.

"You're nothing but a has-been, Bojana," Hailey sneers. "A washed-up Vixen who couldn't cut it with the big girls. You're lucky to even be in this tournament."

Bojana's smile widens, a grin that sends shivers down the spines of those watching. "Washed up? I'm just getting started. And tonight, I'm going to make you regret ever stepping foot in this ring. I'm coming for that pudgy stomach of yours, Hailey, and I'm not stopping until you're gasping for air."

Hailey's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in them. "Oh, you're on, Bo. But it's not just your tummy I'm after. I'm aiming for those pathetic jugs of yours, and I'm going to pummel them until you're crying."

Bojana's smile turns feral. "We'll see who's crying, Clauson. And when it's all over, I'm going to smother you with those same tits. Maybe then, you'll finally shut up."

The MC's voice takes on a ceremonial tone, "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the official weigh-in!"

A spotlight descends upon the stage, illuminating a gleaming silver scale. Bojana, with practiced poise, steps forward, shrugging off her black dress to reveal a crimson bra and matching briefs – the standard attire for weigh-ins. Every muscle on her toned form is honed for combat. Her gaze is unwavering, her eyes locked on Hailey as she steps onto the scale. The digital display flashes 154 pounds – well within the Welterweight limit.

The crowd roars its approval, a mixture of cheers and jeers that echo through the gym. Hailey emerges next, her confidence radiating outwards as she discards her golden dress. Beneath it, a white cotton bra and matching underwear hug her curves, showcasing a physique that's both lean and powerful. She steps onto the scale, and the numbers flash 152 pounds – a pound lighter than her rival, but no less formidable.

The air crackles with anticipation as the two women turn to face each other. Bojana and Hailey approach each other with confidence, their eyes locked in a silent challenge. They stop mere inches apart, their chests heaving with anticipation. Then, in a synchronized movement, they step forward, their bodies pressing against each other in a show of dominance. Bojana's forehead meets Hailey's, their noses almost touching. Their breaths mingle in the charged air, the scent of sweat and determination filling their nostrils.

"This time, Clauson," Bojana whispers, her voice a low growl that sends shivers down Hailey's spine, "it's not just about the win. It's about proving that I'm the better fighter, once and for all."

Hailey's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in them. "You're delusional," she retorts, her voice barely a whisper. "I've beaten you before, and I'll do it again. But this time, I'm not just going to win. I'm going to humiliate you."

The crowd holds its breath, every camera lens trained on the two women. Their bodies remain locked in an embrace of aggression, their breaths mingling, their heartbeats echoing in the sudden silence. The world shrinks to this single moment, this single confrontation, a prelude to the storm that is about to be unleashed.

Finally, a security guard steps forward, gently placing a hand on each fighter's back, urging them to separate. The spell is broken, and Bojana and Hailey slowly pull away, their eyes still locked in a silent battle. The crowd erupts in cheers and boos, the energy in the room electric.

The MC steps back to the microphone, his voice a welcome break from the tension. "Thank you, ladies, for that electrifying performance! We're just a few hours away from the main event. Who will walk out of this ring victorious? Only time will tell. But one thing's for sure, tonight's fight is guaranteed to be a barnburner. Stay tuned for all the action!"

Much later, the lights dim, casting a hush over the expectant crowd. The spotlight shifts to the blue corner, where Bojana Krsmanovic emerges, her eyes smoldering. Her fight attire is a stark black ensemble – a simple sports bra that reveals her sculpted back and toned abs, paired with matching shorts that accentuate her long, powerful legs. Her dark hair is pulled back in a tight braid, her face bare of makeup, showcasing the steely resolve etched onto her features.

Across the ring, the spotlight finds Hailey Clauson, her entrance a burst of shimmering gold. Her sports bra and shorts, a more elaborate design than Bojana's, are adorned with intricate gold stitching and a few strategically placed rhinestones. The outfit hugs her curves, emphasizing her athletic build and playful confidence. Her blonde hair is styled in loose waves that bounce as she shadowboxes, her eyes a steely blue as she sizes up her opponent.

The final preparations are a flurry of controlled chaos. In Bojana's corner, her team works with silent efficiency. They tape her hands, adjust the fit of her headgear, and offer a final word of encouragement. The atmosphere is tense, the unspoken message clear: this is a fight for redemption, a chance to prove that Bojana is far from a "has-been."

In Hailey's corner, the mood is lighter, but no less focused. Her team, a mix of veteran trainers and fashion-forward stylists, ensure every detail is perfect. They dab at a cut above her eye from the earlier scuffle, apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, and adjust the fit of her golden gloves.

The referee, a no-nonsense woman with a stern expression, calls both fighters to the center of the ring. Her eyes sweep over them, assessing their readiness for the battle to come. There's no need for a lengthy reminder of the rules; these two women know the stakes, the history, and the unspoken animosity that fuels this grudge match.

With a curt nod, the referee steps back, her hand hovering over the bell. HERE WE GO with ten rounds of Welterweight action! This here’s the final match in the Quarterfinals of the VIX: Queen of the Vixens boxing tournament!

ROUND 1:

The first clang of the bell unleashes a torrent of raw power. Both Bojana and Hailey, fueled by their long-simmering rivalry and a shared history of brutal brawls, charge towards the center of the ring. This isn't a dance of finesse; it's a clash of titans, a slugfest from the very first second. The crowd roars as the two women exchange blows, their bodies moving in sync under the harsh lights. Bojana throws a wild haymaker that glances off Hailey's shoulder, but Hailey retaliates with a looping right hook that Bojana ducks just in time, the wind whistling past her ear. The fight quickly devolves into a close-quarters brawl. Hailey, true to her reputation, targets Bojana's midsection, her punches aimed at the soft flesh of her stomach. But the Serbian model is prepared. Her abs, hardened by countless hours of training, absorb the impact, and she retaliates with her own series of blistering uppercuts. One catches Hailey square on the chin, the force of the blow jolting her head back with a SNAP. Dazed, the blonde stumbles back a step, her vision momentarily blurred. Bojana seizes the opportunity, lunging forward and wrapping her arms around Hailey's waist. With a powerful yank, Bojana pulls her back in, before wrestling them around and slamming her body against the ropes. Hailey lets out a grunt of surprise, the air momentarily knocked out of her lungs. "That all you got, blondie?" Bojana taunts, before sending a nasty hook straight into her tummy. But Hailey, her pride wounded, lunges forward with a renewed fury. She manages to land a few solid hooks to Bojana's ribs, but the former Vixen doesn't back down. Instead, she shifts her focus, targeting her face with a series of wild hooks and looping uppercuts. The brawl becomes a brutal display of strength and willpower, both women locked in a tight clinch against the ropes. Bojana, determined to overpower Hailey, throws a series of short, hammering blows to Hailey's midriff. Hailey grits her teeth, grunting with each impact, but she fights back with elbows digging into Bojana's ribs and short, sharp punches aimed at her face. Sweat flies, a mixture of their exertion and the blood that begins to trickle from a cut above Hailey's left eye. Bojana, determined in her assault, leans in close, headbutting Hailey with an unexpected crunch. Hailey roars in pain, her vision momentarily swimming. She retaliates with a desperate knee to Bojana's thigh, a dirty tactic that sends a jolt of pain through the former Vixen. Locked in this brutal embrace, they trade blows like warriors locked in a desperate struggle. Bojana unleashes a flurry of uppercuts to the base of Hailey's chin. The blows land with a thud, each one chipping away at Hailey's resistance. A final looping hook catches Hailey flush on the face, sending a jolt of pain through her skull. Her legs buckle, and she stumbles back, her vision swimming. Bojana, sensing victory, throws her arms around Hailey to steady her, her grip surprisingly gentle. "You done yet, Clauson?" Bojana taunts, her voice a low growl in Hailey's ear. "Or do you need the medics to come pick you up?" It’s only the first round and things aren’t looking good… Hailey sways in Bojana's grasp, the fight momentarily knocked out of her. But just as Bojana leans back to deliver another taunt, the bell rings, signaling a merciful end to the round. But Big Bo’s not done. Deliberately, she unleashes a final uppercut into Hailey's exposed tummy. Her glove sinks into the soft flesh, making a brief but visible indent and forcing the air from the Siren’s lungs. Hailey lets out a guttural gasp, her eyes widening in surprise. Bo smirks, before getting shoved off and ordered to return to her corner. Both women are battered and bruised, their chests heaving with exertion. “b*tch,” Clauson mutters as she stumbles back. The crowd erupts in a mix of cheers and jeers, the energy in the arena reaching fever pitch. Bojana raises her arms in victory, a silent message to Hailey and the rest of the VIXENs: she's not here to play games. She's here to win.

ROUND 2:

Round Two begins with a ferocious roar from the crowd, their bloodlust ignited by the previous round's brutal display. Hailey, her pride wounded by the initial loss, charges out of her corner like a woman possessed. But Bojana, unfazed, meets her head-on. This is the kind of fight she thrives in – a chaotic brawl where skill and strategy are secondary to sheer willpower and a primal need to dominate. The two women collide in the center of the ring, their punches coming in hot once more. Hailey, wanting revenge, focuses her attacks on the face. Her right hook, a compact explosion of power, connects with Bojana's cheekbone, drawing a gasp from the crowd. But Bojana retaliates with a left jab that snaps her head back, though the blonde fighter remains undeterred. They exchange blows with a ferocity that makes the ring creak beneath their feet. Hooks, uppercuts, straight punches – each one aimed at inflicting maximum damage. The crowd roars its approval, their cheers and jeers a chaotic symphony that mirrors the violence unfolding before their eyes. The fight spills onto the ropes, their bodies twisting and turning in a desperate struggle for dominance. Bojana, her dark hair whipping around her face, delivers a series of body shots that force a grunt from Hailey. The Siren, however, retaliates with a vicious uppercut that slams into one of her breasts, the impact sending a jolt through her body. Then, a primal fury takes over. Both women abandon any pretense of technique, their punches a blur of mutual aggression. Bojana repeatedly slams her gloves into Hailey's ribs, while Hailey's hammer into her thick midsection, and the air grows thick with the sound of their ragged breaths, their grunts of exertion, and the thudding leather on flesh. With each blow, they are driven further into a primal state. Faces contorted in rage, bodies slick with sweat. Hailey, changes tactics on a dime. As they clinch against the ropes, she reaches out, her gloved fingers looping around the thin straps at the back of Bojana's bikini. With a vicious yank, she pulls the fabric taut, the force of the tug nearly ripping the flimsy material free. Bojana cries out, a high-pitched squeal that cuts through the roar of the crowd. Her eyes widen in shock and a flicker of panic crosses her face. The unexpected assault leaves her momentarily vulnerable, with the thin black material straining against the pressure, revealing a sliver of pale skin beneath her breasts. Seizing the advantage, Hailey throws a series of brutal hooks to her midsection. The first blow lands just below her ribs, sending a jolt of pain that doubles Bojana over. Instinctively, she throws her arms down to protect her exposed stomach, but Hailey is relentless. Another hook connects, the impact forcing the air from Bojana's lungs. Bojana gasps, her body lurching forward as she tries to regain her composure. Her arms flail, desperately searching for a way to shield herself from the onslaught. In a move born of primal instinct, she throws herself back against Hailey, attempting to pin her arms and prevent another brutal blow. The momentum of their collision pushes them away from the ropes, but Hailey doesn't relinquish her grip on Bojana's bikini. Instead, she uses the leverage to twist and turn her body, further exposing her midsection. Bojana lets out a strangled cry, a mixture of pain and fear, as another vicious hook lands with a crack against her ribs. The bell rings, a merciful end to a round that showcased the raw brutality of their rivalry. But likewise, Hailey’s NOT done, and the fight is far from over. The animosity between the two women burns hotter than ever before, a promise of even more violence to come.

Now, it was Hailey who holds the advantage, her body a weapon as she pins Bojana against the ropes. The Serbian fighter, her earlier dominance a fading memory, struggles to break free, her arms trapped by Hailey's grip. Hailey leans in close, her breath hot against Bojana's cheek. "Remember this, Krsmanovic," she hisses, her voice a venomous whisper, "this is what happens when you try to steal my thunder." With her left arm hooked under Bojana's armpit and her body pressed against hers, Hailey unleashes a series of short, sharp uppercuts. Her right fist hammers into Bojana's midsection, each blow landing with a muffled thud, the impact reverberating through the rest of her body. Bo’s once-taut abs, ripples and contorts with each strike, her body instinctively folding over Hailey's fists, her breath escaping in a pained gasp. But Hailey wouldn't let her escape. With a rough shove of her own body into hers to keep her pinned, she pushes Bojana back against the ropes, her body a wall of muscle that denies any chance of retreat. "You're not so tough now, are you, princess?" Hailey taunts, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Where's that fire you had in the last round? Seems like it's burned out." Another uppercut, this one even deeper, drives the air from her lungs with a strangled wheeze. Bojana's head lolls forward, her eyes closed in a moment of agonizing vulnerability. Hailey presses her advantage. She has her prey exactly where she wants her. She shoves Bojana back against the ropes again, her grip tightening around her waist. Each uppercut becomes a brutal excavation, the white leather of her glove molding to the contours of her rival’s abdomen. The first blow creates a shallow depression, a fleeting indent that disappeared as quickly as it formed. The second punch sinks deeper, lingering for a horrifying moment, the taut skin yielding to the pressure, leaving a discolored mark. The third blow, however, is the most devastating. Hailey's fist burrows itself into the soft flesh just above Bojana's navel. The Serbian model’s body spasms, her abdominal muscles clenching in a futile attempt to expel the invading force. The imprint of Hailey's glove remains embedded for a split second, a grotesque tattoo of pain etched onto her skin. "This is MY ring, Bo," Hailey snarls, her breath hot against her ear. "Don't overstay your welcome." When the referee finally manages to restore order, Big Bo, her body aching and her spirit broken, slumps back against the ropes, her eyes filled with tears of frustration and defeat, while Hailey, her chest heaving with exertion, returns to her corner, ignoring the referee’s protestations.

ROUND 3:

Explosive action thus far, both in and out the ring, and round three descends into another maelstrom of raw, unbridled aggression. Both fighters abandon all pretense of technique and engage in a brutal, no-holds-barred brawl. The crowd roars as the two women trade wild haymakers in the center of the ring. Hailey, her eyes blazing with a feral intensity, charges forward. A right hook connects with Bojana's cheekbone, but the big Serb retaliates with a left uppercut that slams into the side of Hailey's ribs, taking turns forcing the other big girl back. The fight spills onto the ropes, their bodies tangling in another desperate clinch. The referee, struggling to maintain control, warns them repeatedly, but his words are lost in the din of the crowd and the fighters' own ragged breaths. In the clinch, the gloves come off, figuratively of course. Bojana, her face contorted in a mask of pain, digs her elbow into Hailey's side, drawing a sharp cry from the taller fighter, but Hailey retaliates with a knee to the inner thigh, a blatant foul that goes unnoticed by the distracted referee. Both women are unrelenting, their punches exchanged in tandem. Bojana, her dark hair whipping around her face, lands a series of vicious uppercuts to the center of Hailey's stomach, but then takes a desperate knee to her lower abdomen, a gasp of pain escaping her lips. The referee finally manages to separate them, but both women are battered and bruised, their bodies slick with sweat and trickles of red. The final minute of the round is a desperate exchange of wild swings, neither fighter willing to back down. But the earlier fouls have taken their toll, and the round ends in a chaotic flurry of missed punches and desperate clinches. The judges, their faces grim, declare the round a draw. It's a testament to the sheer brutality of the fight so far, and the crowd, though divided in their loyalties, is united in their awe.

ROUND 4:

The fourth begins with a renewed ferocity, both women desperate to break the stalemate. Hailey, her once-pristine bikini now stained and bloodied, charges forward, her fists flying at Bo’s head early. She's learned from her mistakes, abandoning the wild swings of the previous round in favor of a more targeted attack. Bojana raises her guard, ready to meet the onslaught head-on, but Hailey's punches rain down on her, each blow aimed high before the Siren pummels at her midsection and chest, looking to exploit that abominable punishment, Bo’s tummy tensing up with each impact, the muscles rippling and contorting as she absorbs. But Hailey's attack isn't just about power; it's also about humiliation. She drives her knuckles into the soft flesh beneath Bojana's ribs and then twists her fist in with extra force, with a cruel smirk on her face, determined to break Bo’s body in half. The taller fighter's body shudders with each blow, a grunt of pain escaping her lips. Bojana tries to counter, of course, the occasional swipe sent back across Clauson’s face to drive her off, but the blonde’s pressure keeps her on the defensive. The crowd roars with excitement as the two women continue to trade leather into the second minute, their bodies colliding with a force that sends sweat spraying across the ring. In the third minute, however, the tide turns. Bo manages to DUCK under a wild hook and unleashes a devastating haymaker of her own -- KAPOW! The punch connects clean with Hailey's jaw, the impact snapping her head sideways and the rest of her body backwards! OUCH! Her eyes go wide with shock and pain, and Big Bo DRIVES her back towards the corner with a flurry of blows!

Trapped against the ropes, Hailey raises her arms in a desperate attempt to shield herself. But Bojana stays on top of her, cutting off all escape routes, unleashing a barrage of low hooks and uppercuts, her fists pummeling Hailey's breasts and belly! The impact of each blow is a thud, the sound punctuated by Hailey's pained gasps and whimpers. In the waning seconds, Bo’s face contorts in a mask of fury as she leans in close, her voice a venomous hiss in Hailey's ear. "Remember what you did to me? It's payback time." With a vicious tug, she grabs the straps of Hailey's bikini top, pulling them taut. The crowd erupts in a frenzy of cheers and jeers as the fabric strains against the blonde’s skin, the edges slowly inching apart to reveal glimpses of her glistening cleavage. "You're a bully, Clauson. And your reign is coming to an end!” Krsmanovic hisses, before she rams another fist into Clauson’s stomach, doubling her over with a groan. Soon, Hailey's body sags against the ropes, her arms now hanging limply at her sides, her gloves pushing weakly at Bo's hips and shoulders. Hailey's once-braced abs, now a canvas of bruises and welts, ripple and contort under the assault. Her body folds involuntarily with each punch, her lips pressed against Bojana's neck and chest in a desperate attempt to find a safe haven from the storm. "Tired yet, Clauson?" Bojana continues to taunt, her voice a low growl in Hailey's ear. "Thought you were going to teach me a lesson?" Bojana digs her knuckles into the soft flesh beneath Hailey's ribs, twisting her fist with a cruel smirk. The blonde fighter's body shudders with each impact, a silent testament to the punishment she's enduring. Hailey, her eyes filled with tears of pain and frustration, tries to retaliate, but her punches lack their earlier power. Her arms, weakened by the onslaught, can barely lift her gloves in defense. She whimpers softly, the sound muffled against Bojana's skin. The bell rings, a merciful end to a round that showcased the raw, visceral nature of their rivalry. But with a final, defiant gesture, Big Bo pulls even harder on Hailey's bikini top, allowing the fabric to stretch to its limit, a tantalizing strip of flesh revealed on either side of Hailey's torso as she slumps into Bo's embrace. "Next time," she whispers, her voice a chilling threat, "it won't just be a tug. I'll rip that damn thing off you and expose you for the fraud you are."

ROUND 5:

The fifth opens with a primal roar from Bojana, her eyes burning with hunger. She's tasted victory, and she's hungry for more. The cheers of her PLP fans at her back, she charges towards Hailey, her punches sailing in wildly. Hailey, though battered, raises her guard, her movements still fluid despite the exhaustion. She tries to match Bojana's aggression, but the taller brunette's power is overwhelming. A left hook catching her to the ribs sends Hailey stumbling backwards, followed by a right cross that lands squarely on her jaw. Things are looking dire for the JMD champ indeed, as Hailey once again gets herded into the corner by a series of big swings from Bo, who corners her and looks to continue the punishment from the previous round. And for a moment, it seems as if Bojana might finish the fight right here and now. She pummels Hailey’s arms and lower tummy with a series of last-minute lunges, as though putting the last reserves into her back. But Hailey, a seasoned veteran, isn't going down without a fight. She grits her teeth, her arms a shield as she tries to weather the storm.

Then, in a split second, the tide turns! Bojana, overconfident from her initial success, lowers her guard, leaving a gaping hole in her defenses. Hailey, despite her exhaustion, sees the opening and seizes it -- a devastating right uppercut explodes outwards from Hailey's core, a perfectly timed blow that catches her foe flush on the chin! The impact is a loud CRACK that silences the crowd for a heartbeat! OUFF! Bojana's eyes widen in shock, sent skywards along with the rest of her head! Her chest wobbles from the accumulated momentum, and her body freezes for a moment, before her legs BUCKLE beneath her! DOWN SHE GOES! Krsmanovic COLLAPSES like a tree felled, her body landing on its side with a thud that reverberates through the arena! It’s a KNOCKDOWN for Hailey Clauson, and the referee dives in, his arm raised as he begins the count!

"One... Two... Three..." Bojana lies prone, her body momentarily still, eyes closed and staring up at the lazy lights. "Four... Five... Six..." She stirs, just slightly, but barely. But it looks like there’s little use! Her eyes are glazed over, her hands spread overhead, entirely limp! "Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten!" The referee's voice booms through the arena. It’s OVER!

Official Result: Hailey Clauson defeats Bo Krsmanovic via KO5!

AFTER:

The echoes of the knockout still hang in the air as Hailey Clauson, her chest heaving with exertion, raises her arms in victory. A primal roar rips from her throat, a triumphant sound that echoed the cheers of the crowd. Her bikini, now stained with sweat, Bojana's blood and earlier handiwork, clung barely to her body, with one of her shoulder straps in danger of coming loose entirely and revealing her championship assets.

But Hailey has other plans for her celebration. Stripping off her gloves, she swiftly returns her attention towards Bojana, who still lies crumpled on the canvas. Slowly, Hailey kneels beside her fallen opponent, her gaze raking over the damage she had inflicted. Bojana's once-toned tummy is a mess of bruises and welts, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Looks like someone couldn't handle the heat," she taunts, her voice a hoarse whisper, whilst reaching down and grabbing a fistful of Bojana's dark hair. With a sharp yank, she hauls the Serbian fighter to her feet, Bo’s ragdolled head lolling in her grasp aside from the odd groan of protest.

She uses her other hand to guide the brunette’s face upwards, forcing her lips to brush against the sweat-slick skin of Hailey's stomach. Below, Bojana whimpers, her body instinctively recoiling from the humiliating contact. Her lips have no choice but to trace a path upwards, brushing against the defined but battered muscles of Hailey's abs.

Finally on her feet, Bojana’s eyes are still glazed over with pain. She stumbles forward, her body a puppet to Hailey's will. But Hailey tightens her grip, wrapping an arm around her neck, another on her hip to steady her, forcing her former foe’s face closer to her own. Then, with a brutal yank, she pulls Bo’s head back, their faces mere inches apart. Bojana's eyes, filled with a mixture of pain and humiliation, meet Hailey's gaze. In that moment, the power dynamic was clear. Hailey, the victor, holds all the cards, and Bojana, the once-proud warrior, is left to endure the bitter taste of defeat. "Who’s the better woman now, b*tch?" Hailey hisses, her voice dripping with venom.

Her fists, now bare-knuckled and red, have free reign Bojana's breasts, each blow a punctuated thud against the remaining fabric of her bikini top. The force of the impacts cause her body to convulse, her breath coming out in ragged gasps, not to mention the straps of her top straining against the assault, the thin strings stretching and fraying under the pressure.

It’s clear to all in attendance what Hailey’s intentions here are: with a final, vicious blow, Hailey's fist slam into Bojana's left breast. There’s a whamm! as the bra strap gives way, sending the garment flying upwards briefly before the remaining fabric crumples around her exposed breast. Immediately, Bo’s left breast spills out, left entirely exposed and vulnerable under the harsh lights.

A wave of gasps and cheers erupts from the crowd. Bojana’s eyes widen briefly, but her hands are just too spent to do anything but paw and slap at Hailey’s sides, her eyes filled with tears of rage and defeat. Hailey, her chest still heaving with exertion, stands in front of her with a triumphant smirk on her face. The referee, finally realizing the severity of the situation, rushes in to intervene.

But Hailey, her eyes ablaze with triumph, isn’t satisfied with just disrobing her hated rival. She wants to humiliate, to utterly dominate, to leave an indelible mark. With a feral snarl, she lunges forward again, her hands snaking out to grab fistfuls of Bojana's hair.

The crowd gasped as Hailey yanks the taller woman's head back, the force of the tug causing Bojana to stumble, her bare breasts now glistening and swaying under the lights. Before she can regain her balance, Hailey hauls her forward, before whipping her across the ring.

Bojana hits the mat, the air momentarily knocked from her lungs. She lay stunned for a moment, her body utterly broken, her chest heaving with ragged breaths as she at least manages to turn herself over. But before she could even attempt to rise, Hailey’s back and upon her.

The JMDD champ straddles Bojana's prone form, her knees pinning the Serbian fighter's arms to the canvas. The Serb tries to struggle and twist her torso, her eyes widening with panic, but Hailey's weight isa mountain on her chest, her strength overwhelming.

Hailey's gaze was fixed on Bojana's exposed breast, the crimson fabric of her bra now hanging loosely around her waist. A cruel smile twisted her lips as she leans down and over, her breath hot against her caramel skin.

"Remember this," she hissed, her voice a venomous whisper. "This is what happens when you test me."

With a swift, deliberate movement, Hailey lowers her chest onto Bojana's face, the weight of her body pressing her head and torso into the mat. A choked scream escapes her lips, her struggles turning frantic as she realizes she’s about to be subjected to the champion’s smother. Hailey feels a warm wetness of tears mixing with the sweat on her skin, a repugnant counterpoint to her own sense of dominance.

With the jug smother locked in, Bojana can only whimper from below. Hailey’s elbows are splayed out to either side, using her entire upper body weight to pancake the equally large girl down. Her right arm, bent at the elbow, immobilizes Bo’s left arm to the mat, effectively neutralizing any attempt to fight back.

As the oxygen gets more sparse, Bojana's struggles become even more frantic. Her legs thrash against the canvas, her one free hand clawing ineffectually at Hailey's back. But Hailey is unyielding, locking her arms around the big girl’s head and neck, and the air in the ring grew thick with the stench of sweat, desperation, and a faint metallic tang of blood.

Bojana's breaths come in short, panicked gasps. The pressure on her chest is suffocating, and from the side angle of the cameras, her lips and nose are fully engulfed by the huge mounds of Hailey’s breasts, and combined with the full weight of Hailey's body stealing the air from her lungs, panic begins to cloud her vision, black spots dancing at the edges. She can feel the sharp sting of tears mixing with the sweat streaming down her face.

Through the haze of pain and humiliation, a primal instinct for survival flickered. Bojana thrusts her hips violently upwards, the sudden movement arching her back and forcing her exposed breast to grind painfully against the underside of Hailey's chest. A choked sob escaped her lips, a heartbreaking sound that was swallowed by the cacophony of the crowd.

But Hailey, anticipating the movement, only tightens her grip. Her arms snake around Bojana's head, her hands interlocking behind her neck. With a squeeze, she pulls the brunette’s face even tighter against her chest, effectively smothering any screams or gasps that might escape. The fabric of her white bikini scrapes against Bo’s lips and cheek, a further humiliation in a night overflowing with them.

Soon, from beneath, Hailey can feel Bo’s struggles weaken, her body trembling beneath the weight of her domination. Only after Krsmanovic goes completely limp will she even CONSIDER releasing her stranglehold. Whatever it took, Clauson tells herself, to make sure this girl would be broken, and never challenges her again.