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19 June 2024 Alexis Ren vs Olivia Ponton

Page history last edited by neon 1 day, 23 hours ago

SI TOURNAMENT ROUND 1, LOSER'S REDEMPTION BRACKET

Posted by countrymouse on 18 June 2024 at 11:11 pm

1. (Results: Lookout!, Words: Caspian)

Alexis Ren vs. Olivia Ponton - Gutcheck Contest

BEFORE:

A makeshift stage, hastily constructed from wooden crates and draped with a Sports Illustrated banner, awaits the two fighters. The lingering scent of coconut sunscreen and salty air mingles with the buzz of anticipation. Two spotlights illuminate the podium as the press gathers, eager for a taste of the drama that will unfold in this unique contest.

Alexis Ren enters first, her confident stride radiating her status as the veteran fighter. Her lean figure, honed by countless hours in the gym, is showcased in a simple black sports bra and white shorts. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail, highlighting the fierce determination in her eyes.

Olivia Ponton follows, a youthful energy buzzing around her. Her blonde hair flows freely over her shoulders, contrasting with her dark, focused gaze. Despite her relative inexperience in the FCBA, her physique is undeniable, a testament to her dedication to honing her fitness.

The moderator, a seasoned sports journalist with a voice that commands attention, begins the conference. "Ladies, welcome. This Gutcheck Contest is a unique challenge, even within the realm of the SI Swimsuit Boxing Tournament. Alexis, you've participated in these before, officially and unofficially. How does your experience give you an advantage?"

Alexis leans into the microphone, a confident smile on her lips. "Experience is everything in this game. I take more punches to the gut than Olivia has hot dinners. My abs are like steel, thanks to years of training and thrashing girls who think they’re better. I’ve broken girls twice Ponton’s size, I’ve sent Alyssa crashing to the canvas, and left Cohen begging for mercy after three rounds of gut-wrenching pain. Olivia might be young and hungry, but she doesn't know what she's in for."

Olivia, unfazed, counters, "Experience doesn't matter in this contest. It's about heart, guts, and the will to win. And let me tell you, my abs are just as tough, maybe even tougher than Alexis’. I'm younger, faster, and hungrier. I'm here to make a name for myself, and that starts by taking her down, and then winning this tournament.”

The moderator shifts her attention. "Olivia, you're a newcomer to the FCBA, and this is your first Gutcheck Contest. What are your thoughts on the unique rules?"

Olivia's eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. "I love it. It's a pure test of strength and resilience. No fancy footwork, no dodging. Just two women, face-to-face, pushing each other to the limit. I'm ready for the challenge."

Alexis interjects, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "She's ready for a challenge, alright. The challenge of standing back up after I'm done with her."

The moderator addresses both fighters. "This contest is a way for you to get back into the running for the top prize of the tournament. What are your thoughts on that?"

Alexis's eyes harden with determination. "I won't let one loss define me. I'm a champ, and I'm here to prove it. I'm in my prime, juggling two tournaments, simultaneously, and I'm still standing after kicking Nina’s butt. This Gutcheck Contest is just another step towards reclaiming my rightful place at the top."

Slowly, the sun dips towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the white sands of Paradise Cove. The makeshift Gutcheck Contest arena is a stark contrast to the picturesque backdrop – a simple metal shower stall, stark against the azure sky, its cold steel promising a brutal test of wills.

A throbbing bassline pulses through the air, setting the scene for a gladiatorial showdown. The crowd, a mix of swimsuit enthusiasts and fight fans, roars with anticipation, the energy a heady mix of sun-kissed excitement and raw bloodlust.

Alexis emerges from a makeshift backstage area first, her bikini shimmering under the stage lights. The turquoise fabric clings to her sculpted torso, revealing a washboard stomach honed by countless hours of crunches and sit-ups. Each individual muscle ripples beneath the taut and oiled skin, and a faint sheen of sweat glistens on her toned abs, catching the light as she flexes and poses for the crowds, in a silent challenge to her opponent.

Olivia, meanwhile, slinks down the beach from the opposite direction, her fiery red bikini a stark contrast to the cool turquoise. The fabric strains against her well-developed core, each muscle a perfect oval, separated by deep striations that speak of rigorous training. Her youthful exuberance is evident in the way she carries herself, a confident swagger that belies her relative inexperience. As she approaches the arena, she tenses her core muscles, the movement sending a ripple down her taut stomach, in a display of youthful defiance.

The two women stop a few feet apart, their eyes locked in a silent battle. Alexis, her voice dripping with disdain, breaks the silence. "Don't get too comfortable, newbie. This stage isn't a runway."

Olivia smirks, her eyes gleaming with challenge. "Don't you worry. I'll show you how real abs work." With a flick of her wrist, Olivia tosses her hair back, a gesture of defiance that sends a ripple of excitement through the crowd. Alexis responds with a dismissive snort and a flex of her biceps and tummy, a silent declaration of her physical superiority.

The verbal sparring continues as they circle each other, their words as sharp as the blows they are about to exchange. "You're just a pretty face, Olivia. Let's see what you've got under the hood."

"Experience doesn't matter, not in this contest. Once I break you in half, you’ll know what I mean…"

As they near the shower stall, their taunts grow more personal, fueled by the simmering resentment that has brought them to this point.

"Heard Emily knocked you the f*ck out. Pathetic, but this'll be worse, b*tch."

"You're a washed-up has-been, Alexis. I enjoyed watching Camille kick your ass. Your time is over."

Then, the two women, their bodies taut with tension, step into the small, open-air arena. The excited buzz of the crowd is momentarily hushed as the commentator's voice booms over the speakers.

"Welcome, fight fans, to the Gutcheck Contest, a special event for the losers' bracket of our SI Swimsuit Boxing Tournament! This ain't your typical boxing match, folks. Both fighters will be wearing specially designed boxing gloves, with minimal padding to maximize the impact of their punches. But that's all the protection they'll get. Three minute rounds, with three minute breaks in between."

He pauses, his eyes scanning the arena as Alexis and Olivia position themselves in the cramped shower stall, their bodies mere inches apart. The contrast between their taut muscles and the flimsy plastic backdrop is striking, a visual reminder of the brutal simplicity of the contest.

"The rules are simple," the commentator continues, his voice taking on a theatrical edge. "Each fighter takes turns bracing themselves against the stall, hands above or behind their head. The other fighter will then deliver a single, powerful punch to the abdomen. The goal? To force your opponent to their knees. If they drop, they have a count of ten to get back on their feet. Fail, and you're out! The last woman standing wins it all!"

The camera zooms in on Alexis and Olivia, their faces a mask of concentration. Alexis, the veteran, stands with her back to the stall, her legs slightly apart for balance. Her eyes are narrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. She's been here before, knows the pain that's about to come, and the fact that she lost the coin toss to start this contest earlier only intensifies her focus. She steels herself, determined to weather the blow and return the favor with double the force.

Olivia, the newcomer, mirrors Alexis's stance, her youthful features betraying a hint of nervousness. But her eyes burn with a fierce determination, a refusal to back down from the challenge. She knows this is her chance to prove herself, to show the world that she's not just another pretty face.

The commentator's voice rises in excitement. "Ladies, are you ready?"

A collective gasp sweeps through the crowd as both fighters nod in unison. The air crackles with anticipation. The Gutcheck Contest is about to begin, and the question hangs heavy in the air: who has the guts to endure the pain and emerge victorious?

ROUND 1:

First up, Alexis exhales slowly, her gaze locked onto Olivia. Her feet are shoulder-width apart, a solid base planted firmly on the tiles of the shower stall. With practiced ease, she twists her hips, coiling her body like a spring. Then, she raises her hands high above her head, as though daring her opponent to do her worst. Olivia, the young upstart, mirrors Alexis's stance. She shifts her weight onto her back foot, her front leg extended slightly, a stance that allows for maximum power transfer. Her left fist, clenched tight, trembles slightly with adrenaline. She’s a young lioness, eager to prove her worth. Then, with a swift pivot of her hips, she unleashes a powerful right hook aimed squarely at Alexis's solar plexus. The punch connects, the sound amplified by the metal walls of the shower stall, like bone slamming into a piece of tough meat. It seems like Olivia’s gonna try to break down the Vixen’s core muscles just above her navel. But Alexis, though momentarily stunned, does not falter. Years of training has ingrained in her a deep-seated resilience, and she takes the first blow like a champ, looking undeterred.

“That all you got?” Ren smirks and laughs, before walking forward and gesturing for Ponton to take her own place. Ponton reluctantly does so, and after bracing her own back against the shower stall, barely lifts her hands above her head when Ren decides to surprise her with a sudden WHUDD of a left hook, her fist arcing in from the side towards Olivia's navel, or the toned flesh surrounding it. This area, while protected by muscle, was a vulnerable spot, a direct line to the gut. Alexis, with her years of experience in the gut-wrenching world of the Vixens, knew exactly where to aim for maximum impact, and is strategically targeting the least developed portions of her foe’s abdominal core. Nonetheless, the impact sends a jolt through her body, a reminder that this veteran was not to be underestimated.

Back and forth they go, with neither girl succeeding in breaching the other’s ab walls, at least not in the first three minutes. Towards the end of the first round, Ponton, semi-frustrated, suddenly shoves Ren back against the shower wall, determined to sneak in a final shot to her gut before the buzzer. Ren’s caught off guard and doesn’t have time to brace her body before a devastating right hook slams directly into the soft flesh of her stomach. The unexpected blow, coupled with Olivia's surprising power, sends a shockwave through the Vixen’s body. Her breath whooshes out in a pained gasp, her legs wobbling like a newborn fawn's. Satisfied with her performance, Olivia smirks, standing inches away from her. "What's wrong, Ren?" the FFC starlet taunts, her voice dripping with venom. "Did that one tickle?" The crowd's cheers turn into a collective gasp as Alexis's knees BUCKLE. Time seems to slow as she fights to maintain her balance, her arms flailing for something to hold onto. But there is nothing but slick metal and the unforgiving gaze of her opponent.

With a final, agonizing groan, she FALLS to her knees, her head bowed in defeat. A triumphant grin spreads across Olivia's face as she looms over the fallen fighter. "Not so tough now, are you, baby girl?" she sneers, grabbing a fistful of Alexis's hair and yanking her head back. The sudden pain jolts Ren back to awareness. Fury mixes with the dull ache in her stomach, but with a triumphant cry, Olivia uses her grip on Alexis's hair to yank her back to her feet, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “One bonus shot for me, that means…” Ponton coos.

This time, Alexis barely has time to brace herself before the follow-up blow comes again. Olivia's up-turned fist connects with a sickening whudd, Ren’s trembling tummy ripples beneath the impact, her specially designed boxing glove crumpling inwards as Olivia's blow crunches into the exposed flesh just above her navel. Another gasp escapes her lips, her eyes widening in a mixture of pain and defiance. She grits her teeth, the pain radiating through her core, but this time, she stays upright. This is a gutcheck contest, after all, and Ren is determined to outlast this upstart… Finally the bell rings, and Olivia, with a satisfied smirk, lets go of Alexis's hair and steps back. The two women lock eyes for a tense moment, both gasping for breath. "You’ll pay for that," Alexis rasps, her voice a low growl. The Gutcheck Contest had just become a whole lot more interesting.

ROUND 2:

The referee signals for the fighters to switch positions. And it’s Olivia who takes her place against the stall, her back pressed against the cold tiles, her hands laced behind her head, exposing her toned abdomen. A flicker of apprehension crosses her face, a momentary acknowledgment of the pain that awaits after her humiliation of Ren in the previous round. Alexis, still smarting from the previous blow, steps forward. She’s taking her time, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and determination. To the Vixen, this is her chance to turn the tables, to prove that experience still counts for something in this raw contest. She inhales sharply, tensing her own core, before unleashing a powerful hook aimed directly at Olivia's midsection, the glove landing to the side of her navel.

The impact explodes through Olivia's midsection, a jolt of white-hot pain erupting just below her ribcage, to the side of her navel. The force of the blow buckles her knees, sending a ripple of dizziness through her head. The roar of the crowd fades into a distant hum as her vision momentarily blacks out at the edges.

But Olivia is not one to yield so easily. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she fights back the urge to double over, forcing her body to straighten. A sheen of sweat breaks out on her forehead, her eyes narrowed in a grimace of both pain and defiance. "That all you got?" she taunts, her voice breathless but unwavering. The referee signals for them to switch positions once more, with Ren gritting her teeth and muttering how she shouldn’t be in this position in the first place.

Olivia gleefully steps forward, her movements both anticipatory and eager to score her next blow. She remembers the way Alexis targeted her solar plexus earlier, and decides to return the favor. With a deep breath and a glint in her eye, she pivots her hips and throws a vicious uppercut that slams directly into her upper belly. The blow lands with a sickening WHUMF!, the air whooshing out of Alexis's lungs in a strangled OOF!" The impact visibly caves in Alexis's stomach, the white of her midriff uniform momentarily replaced by a shocking flush of red. A gasp, sharp and choked, escapes her lips, the sound swallowed by the roar of the crowd but no less audible. Her gloved fist clenched around the offending area, knuckles turning white with the intensity of the effort to hold herself together.

The older fighter's eyes widen with surprise as the air is violently expelled from her lungs. She doubles over involuntarily, her back arching against the ropes in a desperate attempt to create space. Another grunt, a mix of pain and surprise, erupts from her lips, momentarily cracked and dry. Her arms instinctively tighten across her abdomen, trying to absorb the blow and shield her already bruised and tender tummy. A wave of nausea washes over her, threatening to erupt. Her legs wobble precariously, momentarily unsure of their ability to hold her weight. Olivia's fist recoils, leaving a stark red imprint on her torso.The younger fighter's momentum carries her forward slightly, her eyes alight with the thrill of the strike, and the damage she’s inflicted. For the first time, she’s watching her victory draw closer, and the crowd seems to agree, cheers swelling at her back. But Ren doesn’t go down. Though momentarily stunned, she’s far from finished. Years of experience and ingrained resilience kick in. She uses the shower stall to steady herself, clutching at her midriff. Her eyes, though filled with pain, still smolder with determination. She grits her teeth, knows she can't give Olivia the satisfaction of seeing her fall.

The exchanges continue, a furious flurry of one punch after another to each other’s gut. Alexis, drawing upon her veteran experience, varies her targets, aiming for the solar plexus, the obliques, and the floating ribs. Olivia is even more precise, targeting Ren’s ab muscles just above and below her navel, intending to break her at her very core. Then, at the end of three minutes, the referee calls for a break. The two women stagger back, each clutching their stomachs, their breath coming in ragged gasps.

ROUND 3:

Both women are visibly winded, their movements slower, their punches less precise. But the fire in their eyes burns brighter than ever. Olivia adopts a more focused approach when it’s her turn at the bat this time. She expends a few rounds targeting specific areas of Alexis's midsection, her punches doing damage in the sense that spots of Ren’s tummy are turning a bright shade of pink from the targeted abuse. Alexis, her body battered but her spirit unbroken, digs deep, finding a reserve of strength within herself. She grits her teeth and absorbs each blow, her abs clenching and bracing just as Olivia's punches land with a sickening "thud, thud, thud." The sound of impact reverberates through the shower stall, a rhythmic percussion of pain. "Ugh!" Alexis grunts after another blow crunches in, her voice a guttural testament to the punishment she's enduring.

But Olivia is also feeling the strain. Her punches, while still powerful, lack the initial snap they had in earlier rounds. Her breathing becomes more labored, each exhale a ragged "harrumph" as she throws herself into each strike. Then, towards the end of the round, she deliberately takes her time, knowing that the seconds are about to tick down. Ren has her arms overhead and is trying to brace for impact, but gets impatient at the other blonde’s deliberate dillydallying. She shrieks out all of a sudden, “Get your punch in, loser! Or I’m gonna---HAAAUGHH!” That was exactly what Ponton was waiting for, for Ren to waste her breath and allow her belly to unbrace itself, before throwing a brutal uppercut into the pit of her navel. The blow connects with a sickening "wumph" as the force travels up the rest of her torso.

Ren's eyes widen in shock, her body tensing up as pain blossoms outwards from her navel. The breath is violently expelled from her lungs, her mouth opening in a silent gasp as she arches backwards, her back almost forming a perfect 'C' shape.

Her abdominal muscles, momentarily relaxed, offer little resistance to the blow. The force travels upwards, jolting her internal organs and sending a wave of nausea through her. Her legs buckle, but somehow, miraculously, she manages to stay upright. Her gloved hands fly to her stomach, fingers digging into the flesh as if trying to physically push the pain away. A groan escapes her lips, a low, guttural sound of pure agony. Sweat beads on her forehead, her skin turning a shade paler. Her eyes, filled with a mix of pain and disbelief, meet Ponton's across the ring. The crowd is in an uproar, their cheers momentarily replaced by gasps and murmurs. The impact of the blow leaves a stark reminder – a bright red mark blooming on Ren's midriff, a testament to the raw power behind Ponton's strategic punch. The younger fighter takes a step back, her chest heaving as she assesses the damage. Her eyes gleam with a mixture of satisfaction and determination, her lips curled into a triumphant smirk. "Feeling the pain, Ren?" Olivia taunts, knowing that by the time she recovers, the round would have ended, and that means she’d have more time again to recover for the next.

But Ren has other ideas. With a primal roar, she pushes off from the stall wall and lunges for Olivia’s hair, physically hauling her forward and wrestle Olivia around, her still-aching belly means she’s using her own body weight to force her back against the cold metal wall of the shower stall and pin her there. For a snap second, Alexis snarls into face, her voice a feral growl. "You wish, b*tch!” Then, just as Olivia is also about to catch her breath, she drives a hook into the exposed side of her stomach. Immobilized, the blow connects with a sickening "wretch" as Alexis's full weight lands behind the punch. Immediately, Olivia's eyes widen in pain, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. Her body convulses as the force of the blow travels through her core, and visibly folds Olivia's stomach inwards as the glove compresses the taut flesh. A ripple of pain shoots across her face, her features contorting in agony. And for a horrifying moment, it seems like she might fold in half, crumple to the floor tiles. But the referee, his eyes glued to the fighters, watches intently. But the two women stand there for the remaining moments, locked in a tight embrace, both gasping for air, and the bell rings, signaling the end of the round.

ROUND 4:

With a feint to the left, Olivia throws Ren off balance, both psychologically and physically, when her follow-up fist lands solidly to the veteran's upper abdomen, just above the navel. Having braced the wrong side of her torso, the impact forces the air from Alexis's lungs with a whoosh, a guttural gasp escaping her lips as a jolt of pain shoots through her torso, doubling Alexis over with a HNNGGHHH, her back hunching as if someone had punched the wind out of her sails. The Vixen’s arms instinctively fly up to cradle her midsection, fingers digging into the taut muscles of her stomach in a futile attempt to ease the burning ache, which radiated outwards, a searing fire that threatened to consume her entire core. But by this point, Ponton is not doing much better, having collapsed into half of Ren’s form right after throwing her punch, the exhaustion adding up and threatening to lose her balance as well.

This allows Ren to grab onto her shoulders and neck for support, and using her hips and chest (the parts that did not throb with pain), she twists both their bodies around and pins her foe against the cold metal wall of the shower stall instead. Olivia, caught off guard by this sudden shift in momentum, lets out a startled yelp, the impact sending a shiver down her spine, the chill of the tiles biting into her bare skin.

Ren snarls in her face, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination. The younger fighter's breath comes out in ragged gasps, her muscles straining with the effort. Her grip on Olivia’s shoulders tightens, her fingers digging into the flesh as she deliberately grabs hold of her wrists and hoists them high above her head. The water from the showerhead continues to rain down on them, the warm droplets mixing with the sweat on their bodies, creating a slick, steamy atmosphere. Olivia's face contorts in a mixture of pain and frustration - she’s not used to being manhandled this way, and shudders at the thought of Ren’s next punch landing. Beneath both girls, the pulsing of her abdomen is a frantic counterpoint to the rain of the shower. Each strained breath of Olivia’s sends a fresh wave of pain radiating from the spot where Ren's uppercuts have landed prior. The ache is a dull throb that spreads outwards, making even the slightest movement feel like an effort.

With a primal roar, Ren unleashes a powerful punch, her fist drilled into Ponton’s exposed navel, the impact reverberating through Olivia's body, an explosive eruption of pain that drowns out the sound of the shower and Ren's own roar. Olivia's eyes widen, her breath hitching in her throat as a strangled cry escapes her lips. Her legs buckle beneath her, the strength momentarily drained from her limbs. Her head snaps back against the tile, the sharp contact momentarily disorienting her. Ren's punch is the most devastating blow yet, the force of it seemingly penetrating deep into Olivia's core, the throbbing ache in her stomach intensifying into a searing agony. A wave of nausea washes over her, threatening to overcome her. The slickness of the shower stall becomes a treacherous hazard, with her footing slipping as she struggles to remain upright. She claws at Ren's arms and shoulders, her fingernails digging into the flesh in a desperate attempt to break free. But Ren's grip is unwavering, her eyes locked onto Olivia's with a fierce intensity.

Olivia's body sags against the wall, her head lolling to the side. The fight seems to have drained out of her, replaced by a raw, visceral pain that consumes her every thought. Her breaths come in short, shallow gasps, her entire body trembling with the effort of staying upright. Meanwhile, the shower continues its relentless downpour, the water now running cold against their heated skin, a stark contrast to the burning sensation in Olivia's gut. The scene is a chaotic mix of steam, sweat, and desperation, the air thick with the scent of soap and the metallic tang of blood. And that’s it! Her knees BUCKLE under the onslaught of pain, her body folding into itself to begin its slow, agonizing descent. Ren, anticipating the collapse, continues to hold onto her, a firm and rough embrace gliding her arms slowly up the back of her torso, keeping her too close in this dire moment of need!

Olivia's face, contorted in shock, glides down Ren's body, her parted lips leaving a trail of wet kisses across Ren's chest, then sweat-slicked abdomen. The close proximity intensifies the shared experience, the heat radiating from their bodies mingling with the gasps of the crowd. Finally, the FFC starlet’s parted lips come to rest against Ren's pulsing stomach, just beneath her navel, and even after all the abuse, Ren's abs flex beneath her touch, a subtle reminder of the power that had brought Olivia to her knees in the first place. The shower continues its relentless cascade, the water drumming against their intertwined forms, as Ren's hand finds its way to the top of Olivia's hair, her fingers tangling in the wet strands. A gentle tug elicits a soft moan from the fallen girl, her body still trembling against Ren's. With a smirk, Ren pulls Olivia closer, pressing those stunned lips into the warmth of her lower abdomen. Olivia's breath hitches as she tries to suck in air but has Ren’s hot, trembling tummy in the way, the sensitive skin around the flesh still throbbing from the impacts that preceded her own downfall. A wave of shame washes over Ponton, the intimacy of the position amplifying her sense of defeat. But of course, she still has the ten-count to recover… if she can manage it…

The referee's voice cuts through the haze of pain and humiliation, a rhythmic pronouncement echoing off the tiled walls of the shower stall. "Four… Five…" The referee's voice seems to come from far away, distorted by the pounding in Olivia's ears. Her vision swims, the harsh white tiles of the shower blurring at the edges. Her body feels like lead, every muscle screaming in protest. “Tick tock, Ponton..." Ren's grip on Olivia's hair tightens momentarily, a silent question, a challenge. But then, as quickly as it came, the grip loosens. Is it a sign of mercy? A momentary hesitation? Olivia doesn't have the energy to ponder it. All her focus is on the raw, primal need to get air into her lungs, to get back on her feet. "Seven… Eight…" The water continues its relentless cascade overhead, the drumming a counterpoint to the frantic thrumming of Olivia's heart. Her vision flickers, dark spots dancing at the edges. She can taste blood, metallic and sharp, on her lips. Defeat feels inevitable, a bitter pill on the back of her tongue.

Then, just as the referee is prepared to shout out his final count and end this nightmare, Alexis Ren apparently has other plans…

With a sudden surge of energy, the blonde Vixen yanks Olivia back upright, the abrupt movement forcing a pained gasp from the blonde's lips. Ren's eyes flash with a mix of determination and a cruel glint of amusement. "Not yet, princess," she purrs, her voice low and husky in Olivia's ear. "We're not done."

Olivia stumbles back to her feet, her legs wobbling precariously. Her vision blurs, her ears ringing with the aftershocks of the blows. She barely registers Ren's words, her mind focused solely on the searing pain in her abdomen and the desperate need to catch her breath. Her lips trace the same path as before, only in reverse, her head rolling forward to rest her chin upon Ren’s shoulder and upper chest. "Forgot about the bonus punch," Ren whispers, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "just for being a good girl."

With a triumphant smirk, Alexis pulls back her right fist, her eyes locking onto Olivia's trembling navel. A wave of nausea washes over her as she anticipates the impending blow. Her abs tighten instinctively, but even doing so here brings agony to her entire torso. The short-ranged uppercut bangs into the center of Olivia's ablinel with a squelch of bone on tenderized meat. A pained groan escapes Olivia's lips as her body folds in on itself, her breath expelled in a ragged gasp. Her legs buckle, and she immediately collapses back down to her haunches, her arms wrapped protectively around her midsection, her entire body not even bothering to stay upright at this point, wanting nothing more than to just curl into a ball.

Alexis, her chest heaving, stands over her, her chest heaving, hands on hips, deciding if enough’s enough, or the other blonde needs further reminder of her dominance. By the side, the poor referee has little choice but to start the count all over again, shrugging his shoulders and starting from zero.

"Eight... Nine..." The referee's voice echoes through the beach. But AGAIN, just as the final count teeters on the edge of defeat, a blur of turquoise streaks forth. Alexis reaches down and snags another fistful of Olivia's hair, yanking her head up with a strength that belies her exhaustion. Up the poor, tortured blonde goes yet one more time, her lips now gagging and body lacking the strength to even stay upright on her knees, and Ren has to haul her slowly but surely up again by her hair and prop her up against the shower stall using her own body. "Guess I get another bonus punch, huh?" she whispers into Ponton’s ear, her lips spread in a smirk. Before Olivia can react, another fist explodes into her core, a perfectly aimed uppercut that slams into the center of her solar plexus. Once more, Olivia's body sags, and then crumples, her legs giving way beneath her, her arms clutching her midsection in a futile attempt to quell the agonizing pain.

AND THIS KEEPS ON HAPPENING. Some cheer for Alexis's dominance, others wince at the brutal display of force, and the referee, his eyes darting between the two fighters, hovers nearby, helpless, as he watches Ren continually pick the battered Olivia up and then rock a punch into her body, only for her to collapse again, rinse repeat. By the end, Ponton’s face is pale and streaked with sweat and tears, each time she’s forced upwards again, her legs wobbling like a newborn foal's. Her breaths come in ragged gasps, each inhale a painful reminder of the punishment she's endured.

Finally, only after the FFC corner is up in arms do the ring officials step in! The referee stops Ren just as she’s about to go for another hair pull, tugging her away by the shoulders, sending an equally exhausted Vixen stumbling off into the nearby sand dunes, and more importantly, pulling her away from her helpless opponent. "Enough!" he bellows, his voice cutting through the din of the crowd. "The fight is over!"

Official Result: Alexis Ren defeats Olivia Ponton via TKO4!

AFTER:

In the aftermath of this brutal contest, a hush falls over the beach. The once raucous cheers are replaced by the murmur of concerned voices and the rustling of medical personnel rushing towards the fallen Olivia.

Alexis, her chest still heaving with exertion, watches as Olivia is carried away on a stretcher. A wave of conflicting emotions washes over her: triumph, exhaustion, but barely a flicker of remorse.

Her own body aches with a dull throb, a testament to the punishment she endured. Her abs are tender to the touch and swiftly covered up by her own VIX fight team. Her legs feel like lead, her arms heavy with fatigue. Yet, beneath the physical exhaustion, a surge of adrenaline still courses through her veins, a reminder of the fierce determination that had propelled her to victory.

The Gutcheck Contest may be over, but the battle for supremacy in the SI Swimsuit Boxing Tournament is far from finished. But if this fight was anything to go by, it showed how far each girl's willing to fight to win it!