Part 2 of 2 of the Brie Boxing Gauntlet

(Results: Lookout / Words: Queens)


BEFORE:

The atmosphere was electric as Madelaine Petsch, clad in a black sports bra and black panties, prepared to engage in a brutal boxing match with Brie Larson. Madelaine's abs were sculpted to perfection, a testament to her rigorous training regime. Her thighs, toned and strong, were the embodiment of sheer power.

On the opposite side, Brie Larson stepped into the ring, her purple sports bra and black panties accentuating her own well-honed physique. Her abs rippled with muscular definition, a silent threat to her opponent. Brie was the embodiment of cold, calculated strength, her every movement seeming to whisper promises of a brutal match.

Their eyes locked across the boxing ring, a fierce battle of wills taking place well before the physical fight. Brie couldn't help but taunt Madelaine, a sly grin on her face as she declared, "I'm going to squeeze the breath out of you and deadlift you out of this ring."

Madelaine, undeterred by Brie's words, retorted with a confidence that echoed throughout the ring. Flexing her powerful thighs, she shot back, "I'll wrap these thighs around you and squeeze the breath out of you like a python."

The crowd, witnessing this battle of words, roared with anticipation. This was more than just a boxing match; it was a clash of titans, a contest of grit and determination. The tension was palpable, the suspense almost tangible.

The pre-fight photo op threatened to turn into a brawl when Madelaine, in a display of aggression, smacked Brie's abs. Brie flinched, but quickly regained her composure. A spark in her eyes, the hint of a smile on her lips, there was no mistaking the challenge in her gaze.

Officials quickly separated the two, ensuring that the match would remain a regulated fight and not devolve into a chaotic brawl. The crowd's anticipation surged, their cheers growing louder. The match was at the cusp of beginning.

Madelaine and Brie, now separated, continued to taunt each other, their words echoing across the ring. Their eyes met once more, a clear message being conveyed: they were ready to fight, ready to box, ready to settle "March to War."

The crowd fell into a hush as the ring announcer began to speak. The moment had arrived. The anticipation was at its peak. The night was about to witness a brutal match, a clash of forces unlike any before.

Brie, her abs flexed in readiness, looked across the ring at Madelaine. She saw in her eyes the same determination, the same readiness to fight. There was mutual respect, but also a promise of an unforgiving fight.

Madelaine, her thighs flexed, returned Brie's gaze. She admired Brie's strength but was not intimidated. She was ready to give her all, ready to fight till the end. The match was about to begin.

And thus, the stage was set for a brutal fight. Two opponents, both equally strong, both equally determined. A match that was all set to be one for the ages. The bell was about to ring, the fight about to commence.

Round 01:

Just as the bell sounded to mark the commencement of the first round, Madelaine Petsch sprang into action. Her every move was a testament to the power her sculpted abs and toned thighs held as she swiftly launched a series of brutal jabs and hooks targeted at Brie Larson's midsection.

Brie, although taken aback by Madelaine's aggressive onslaught, retaliated with her own series of swift blows. The crowd watched in awe as the two powerhouses came to blows, their every punch reverberating through the ring.

The fight quickly turned brutal as both fighters found themselves pushed to the ropes. Madelaine's punches became more aggressive and Brie responded in kind. The boxing match had devolved into an all-out brawl, each fighter determined not to back down.

Their bodies clashed in a fierce clinch, an attempt to impose dominance and to give their opponent a taste of what losing would feel like. The crowd roared with anticipation as they watched the raw display of strength and determination.

In an unexpected turn of events, Brie slipped on the canvas, an error Madelaine was quick to capitalize on. With Brie off balance, Madelaine lunged, wrapping her thighs around Brie in a body scissor. A gasp echoed through the crowd as Brie struggled in Madelaine's grip.

Madelaine's thighs, strong and unyielding, squeezed Brie's midsection with a force akin to a constrictor's grip. Brie gasped for breath, her face starting to turn a shade of blue as she was held captive in Madelaine's thighs.

As Madelaine held Brie in her vice-like grip, she taunted her. Her words, a blend of mockery and challenge, echoed throughout the ring. Brie, straining for breath, could only respond with a defiant glare.

The boxing match had seemingly transformed into a wrestling match, much to the excitement of the crowd. Their roars of anticipation and cheers of encouragement filled the air as they watched the two fighters grapple.

Seeing Brie's struggle, the officials intervened. It took more than one of them to pry Madelaine's strong thighs away from Brie. The crowd erupted in a chorus of boos and cheers as Madelaine was finally separated from Brie.

The officials scolded Madelaine, warning her of the consequences if such an incident were to recur. Madelaine simply responded with a smirk, her confidence unshaken. Brie, now free from Madelaine's grip, took a moment to catch her breath.

With the match back on track, the girls kept their distance, circling each other. Their eyes locked, their bodies poised for attack. They would swoop in for occasional shots, targeting each other's ribs in a calculated display of aggression.

Madelaine was the first to strike, her punch swift and powerful. Brie winced in pain but recovered quickly enough to dodge Madelaine's subsequent blows. The fight was brutal, each punch a testament to the fighters' strength and determination.

Brie retaliated, her own punches landing successfully on Madelaine. However, Madelaine seemed unfazed, her abs absorbing the blows with little impact. The crowd watched in awe as Madelaine kept her ground, her confidence unshaken.

Madelaine retaliated with a series of powerful blows to Brie's ribs. Brie hissed in pain but refused to back down. She was determined to hold her own, her eyes burning with determination.

The bell sounded, marking the end of the first round. Both fighters were breathing heavily, their bodies glistening with sweat. The crowd erupted in cheers as Madelaine was declared the winner of the round.

Despite the brutal first round, the fighters' spirits were undeterred. Their eyes still held the same determination, the same will to win. They knew the fight was far from over; there were more rounds to conquer, more challenges to face.

As they returned to their respective corners, their bodies bruised but their spirits unbroken, one thing was clear: the match was far from over, and round two promised to be even more brutal than the first.

Round 02:

As the bell rang signaling the start of round two, Brie Larson, her body a testament to sheer resilience after the brutal match against Natasha Calis and Madelaine's body scissor, sprung at Madelaine Petsch with a renewed vigor. Fire blazed in her eyes, a tangible testament to her determination to take this round.

The round was a whirlwind of swift moves and punches, each fighter matching the other blow for blow. However, Brie, her focus honed sharply on Madelaine's abs, managed to land a series of powerful punches that seemed to shake Madelaine to her core.

Madelaine, strong and unyielding as she was, found it increasingly difficult to absorb the targeted blows to her midsection. Despite her general focus and attempts to land successful blows on Brie, she found herself reeling under the onslaught.

The crowd watched, their breath held in anticipation as Brie relentlessly pursued her strategy. Each punch Brie landed on Madelaine's abs echoed through the ring, the impact evident in the grimace of pain that flashed across Madelaine's face.

Despite the pain, Madelaine fought back with all her might, her own punches landing with brutal force. But Brie proved to be an immovable force, her body language radiating unyielding determination.

As the round progressed, it was clear that Brie was gaining an upper hand. Her targeted attacks were wearing Madelaine down, her normally steel-like abs visibly straining under the onslaught. The round was indeed close, but it was clear that Brie's strategy was paying off.

With each passing second, Brie's punches seemed to grow in intensity. Her focus never wavered from Madelaine's abs, and with every successful punch, the crowd roared in approval. Madelaine, for all her strength and determination, was clearly under strain.

As the bell sounded to mark the end of the round, the fighters broke apart, their bodies heaving with exertion. Brie, despite her own exhaustion, had a spark of victory in her eyes. The round had been brutal, but she had managed to tip the scales in her favor.

Madelaine, her abs aching from the relentless attack, swallowed her pain. She knew she had lost the round. Brie had been the better fighter this time. But she was not ready to back down yet. This was just round two. There were more rounds to go, and she was ready to fight till the end.

The crowd erupted in cheers as the announcer declared Brie as the winner of round two. The match was far from over, but this round had proven that both fighters were equally strong and capable. The anticipation for the following rounds was palpable. The crowd knew they were in for a fight unlike any other.

Round 03:

Round three began with the ring of the bell. Madelaine Petsch, her abs still aching from the previous round, stepped towards Brie Larson with a fiery determination in her eyes. She knew Brie was fatiguing, with the strain of fighting Natasha Calis earlier now taking its toll. It was time to turn the tide.

The round was a brutal dance of well-placed blows and agile dodging, but it was clear from the outset that Madelaine was the one dictating the rhythm. Shaking off the pain in her abs, she landed a series of guttural punches deep into Brie's midsection, each blow resonating with a sickening thud. The taller Brie, already struggling with fatigue, winced with each impact, her breath hitching.

Madelaine's attack was relentless. She went after Brie's face next, her fists packing a bone-crushing force that would have taken a lesser person's head off. The crowd gasped as Madelaine's blows landed on Brie's face, one after another, the sheer intensity of her attack leaving everyone on the edge of their seats.

Brie, reeling under the brutal onslaught, tried to defend herself against Madelaine's punches. But Madelaine, in her element now, was practically unstoppable. Every blow she threw was a calculated act of aggression, pinpointed and precise, landing exactly where she intended them to.

As the round progressed, it was apparent that Madelaine was in the lead. Brie was visibly tiring, her defenses crumbling under Madelaine's relentless attack. Each punch that landed on Brie's abs or face seemed to drain her of energy, her fatigue clearly showing.

By the time the bell rang to mark the end of round three, Brie was visibly staggering, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. In stark contrast, Madelaine stood strong, only mildly winded. The crowd erupted into a deafening roar as she raised her fists in victory. Round three clearly belonged to Madelaine Petsch, her strategy and strength winning her a wide lead on points. The match was far from over, but Madelaine had clearly won this round, her brutal attack having tipped the scales in her favor.

Round 04:

The bell sounded, marking the beginning of the fourth round. Brie Larson, her breaths still ragged from the punishing round three, looked across the ring. Her eyes met Madelaine Petsch's and there was a spark – an ignited determination. Brie knew she had to reclaim the momentum, and she prepared herself for a frenzied onslaught.

As the fighters closed in, Brie launched an attack with a series of quick jabs, her fists a blur in the air. Madelaine, expecting to continue her lead, was taken aback by the sudden increase in pace. Brie's jab met Madelaine's midsection again and again, each blow sinking deep into her abs.

Madelaine tried to respond, but Brie was relentless. Her furry was a whirlwind, her fists pounding Madelaine's body like a hammer on steel. Each punch echoed through the ring, the brutal force of her attack evident in every grimace that came across Madelaine's face.

Brie's focus was unyielding, each hit a calculated assault on Madelaine's abs and solar plexus. Madelaine's defense began to crumble under the onslaught, her moves turning more and more desperate. Her face twisted in pain with each punishing blow, her attempts to retaliate growing increasingly futile.

Brie was a force of nature, her fists landing with the fury of a tempest. Her blows were unrelenting – a calculated assault aimed at wearing Madelaine down, and she was succeeding. Every punch drained more energy from Madelaine, her body beginning to succumb to the relentless onslaught.

As the round progressed, the balance of power tilted unmistakably in Brie's favor. She was everywhere, her punches landing from every angle. Madelaine was on the ropes, her face a mask of pain as she tried to withstand the storm that was Brie Larson.

Brie, sensing her victory, continued her assault. Her fists seemed to move of their own accord, landing blow after blow on Madelaine's battered body. The crowd could only watch, silent in their awe as they witnessed the devastating display of raw power.

With each passing second, Brie's punches seemed to grow in intensity. Madelaine's body was under a siege, her midsection bearing the brunt of Brie's wrath. The crowd roared in approval as Brie's fists continued to find their mark, the brutality of her attack leaving everyone breathless.

As the bell neared, Madelaine was backed up against the ropes, her body screaming in agony with each powerful punch. Brie was a woman possessed, her determination and raw power an unbeatable combination. It was clear to everyone watching: round four was Brie's.

Just before the bell sounded, Brie leaned in, her breath ghosting over Madelaine's ear. "Wait until my biceps are around you again," she whispered, her words a promise of more pain to come. Madelaine could only brace herself for what was to come.

The bell rang, marking the end of the brutal round. The fighters broke apart, their bodies gleaming with sweat. Brie, her breaths heavy but victorious, had a spark in her eyes. Round four was indisputably hers. The crowd erupted in cheers, but all Brie cared about was the panting figure before her: Madelaine, beaten but not broken, preparing for the next round.

Madelaine knew she had lost the round. Brie had been the better fighter this time, her brutal onslaught an unforgettable testament to her determination. But, as the crowd's cheers died down, Madelaine steeled herself. She knew the fight was far from over.

Despite the painful reckoning, Madelaine’s spirit was unbroken. The match was far from over, and though this round had been a brutal reminder of Brie’s strength, she was ready to fight until the end.

Round 05:

As the bell rang for the fifth round, the atmosphere was electric. Madelaine Petsch, her body still reverberating from the brutal onslaught of the last round, stood tall. Brie Larson, her face bloodied but determined, matched her gaze. The crowd held its collective breath as the fighters closed in, ready for the next battle.

Madelaine, her body coiled like a spring, launched her counterattack. Her fists were a blur, each punch aimed with lethal precision at Brie’s face. Brie, still dazed from her last round’s victory, barely had time to react. The punches landed, one after another, and the crowd watched in awe as Madelaine’s fury was unleashed.

Brie staggered backward, caught off guard by the sudden ferocity of Madelaine’s attack. But Madelaine showed no mercy. Like a predator closing in on her prey, she went in for the kill, her fists relentless. The pain was evident on Brie’s face, her body contorting with each brutal hit.

Madelaine was unyielding, her assault brutal and relentless. With each punch, Brie’s defenses crumbled further, allowing Madelaine to hit her mark. A brutally delivered uppercut to Brie's solar plexus sent her doubling over, gasping for breath. The crowd roared in approval, sensing the shift in balance.

Madelaine, building on her momentum, landed a final, bone-crushing haymaker on Brie’s face. The impact echoed around the arena, and Brie was sent sprawling on the canvas, blood spewing from her nose. The crowd erupted, the noise deafening.

For a moment, everything stood still. Brie was on the ground, her body battered and bruised. Madelaine stood over her, victorious. But then, something incredible happened. With a grimace of pain and sheer determination, Brie started to rise.

The crowd watched in disbelief as Brie pushed herself off the canvas, her body trembling with the effort. It was a testament to her strength and resilience that she managed to get up in time. Madelaine, watching her adversary rise, prepared for the next onslaught.

Brie, back on her feet, tried to steady herself. But Madelaine was unrelenting. She continued to target Brie’s face, her punches coming from all angles. Brie, her body aching with every hit, could only try to defend herself.

The round was drawing to a close, and Brie was visibly weary. Her movements were sluggish, her defenses weak. The exhaustion was clear in her eyes, but she refused to give up. Madelaine, sensing her rival’s weakness, pushed harder.

Just before the bell rang, Madelaine leaned into Brie. "Still think you can bearhug the breath out of me?" she taunted, a malicious glint in her eyes. The crowd erupted into cheers, feeding off the electric tension between the two fighters.

With the sound of the bell, the round came to a close. Brie, staggering back to her corner, was a sight of defeat. Her body was battered, her energy depleted. But her spirit was unbroken, a testament to her resilience.

Madelaine, on the other hand, was the picture of victory. Her body was hardly winded, her eyes filled with confidence. She knew she had won the round, her brutal assault a clear message to her opponent.

As the cheers of the crowd died down, one thing was clear. The match was far from over, and the sixth round awaited. Despite the brutal defeat, Brie was not broken. And Madelaine, with her brutal victory, was ready for the next round. The anticipation was palpable, and the crowd waited with bated breath for what was to come next.

Round 06:

The bell rang out again, signaling the start of the sixth round. The air was thick with anticipation. Brie Larson, her body bruised but her spirit unbroken, emerged from her corner, her eyes locked on her opponent, Madelaine Petsch. Madelaine stood tall, her body coiled and ready, her confidence clear. But Brie was not deterred.

Brie launched herself at Madelaine, her fists flying with a fury that hadn't been seen before. Each punch was a testament to her determination, her resolve to return the favor to Madelaine for the brutal attack from the previous round. Madelaine, caught off guard, tried to mount a defense, but Brie was relentless.

Brie’s fists were a frenzy, each punch aimed at Madelaine’s stomach. Madelaine gasped, her body convulsing with each brutal hit. The crowd was on its feet, roaring in approval as Brie’s onslaught continued. Madelaine’s body jerked with each blow, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Madelaine tried to fight back, but Brie’s assault was too much. Each punch to Madelaine’s stomach felt like a freight train, the brutal force behind them knocking the wind out of her. Madelaine’s face contorted in pain, her mouthpiece threatening to come out with each brutal hit.

But then, something incredible happened. Brie landed a solid punch to Madelaine’s face, sending her sprawling on the canvas. The crowd roared, the noise deafening. Brie stood tall, her fists still clenched, watching as Madelaine struggled to get up.

Madelaine, dazed but not defeated, pushed herself off the canvas. Her body was screaming in agony, but she refused to stay down. As the referee counted, her trembling hand gripped the ropes, pulling herself back to her feet. The crowd watched in disbelief as Madelaine, battered and bruised, managed to rise before the ten counts.

Brie, seeing Madelaine back on her feet, launched another brutal attack. Her fists were a blur, each punch aimed to cause maximum damage. Madelaine, fighting through the pain, managed to deflect some of the blows. But Brie was relentless, her attack unyielding.

Madelaine, her body on autopilot, weathered the onslaught. Her vision blurred from the pain, but she refused to give up. Her body moved on instinct, her training kicking in as she blocked and deflected Brie’s punches. But Brie wasn't finished. She closed in, landing another brutal combination to Madelaine’s stomach.

The crowd watched in anticipation, their cheers filling the arena. Brie, her body aching but victorious, stood tall. She had promised to return the favor to Madelaine, and she had delivered. Each punch she threw was a clear message to her opponent, a brutal reminder of her resolve.

As the bell rung, signaling the end of the round, Brie leaned into Madelaine. "Still think you can squeeze the breath out of me?" she taunted, a malicious smirk on her face. The crowd erupted into cheers, feeding off the electric tension between the two fighters.

Madelaine, panting heavily, glared at Brie. Her body was battered, her energy depleted. But she was far from defeated. As Brie moved back to her corner, Madelaine stood tall, her eyes promising a brutal comeback in the next round.

Brie, on the other hand, was the picture of victory. Her body, though bruised, radiated confidence. She had won the round, and she knew it. Her brutal assault on Madelaine had been a clear message, a challenge she hoped Madelaine would rise to.

As the crowd’s cheers died down, the anticipation for the next round was palpable. The match was far from over, and both fighters knew it. Despite the brutal sixth round, both Madelaine and Brie were ready for the fight that awaited them.

Round 07:

The seventh round began with a blast of the bell, the anticipation in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. Madelaine Petsch, fresh and full of life, emerged from her corner, ready to deliver another round of punishment. Brie Larson, on the other hand, looked like she’d been through the wringer, her body bearing the brutal evidence of the previous rounds. But there was a fire in her eyes, signaling she wasn't ready to give up just yet.

The round started with Madelaine on the offensive, delivering a fast and powerful punch straight to Brie's battered face. The impact sent Brie tumbling to the canvas, her resilience following the brutal hits of the previous round doing nothing to dampen the power of Madelaine's blow. The crowd roared, the noise deafening, as Brie hit the canvas with a thud.

Brie laid sprawled on the canvas, her body writhing in pain. Madelaine, standing triumphantly over her, watched with cold calculation. She had delivered a blow so brutal, it could have sent anyone packing. But Brie was made of tougher stuff.

Barely conscious, Brie managed to stagger back onto her feet, her body swaying dangerously. The crowd held its collective breath, watching in nervous anticipation. But Brie was determined; she wasn't going down without a fight. The bell hadn't rung yet, and she was still standing.

Sensing Brie's weakened state, Madelaine closed in. Her fists were a blur, each punch finding its mark on Brie's already battered abs. Brie gasped with each hit, her body jerking violently with each brutal blow. The sound of fists hitting flesh echoed in the arena, adding to the frenzied atmosphere.

Madelaine's onslaught was relentless. With Brie backed against the ropes, she unleashed a barrage of power punches that had Brie gasping for breath. Each punch was a testament to Madelaine's raw power, her fists moving like a well-oiled machine, landing with brutal precision on Brie's battered abs.

Brie's body convulsed with each hit, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening as Madelaine's brutal assault continued. The force behind each punch was bone-crunching, and Brie was barely able to stay on her feet.

Madelaine, seeing Brie on the ropes, knew the victory was hers. She continued to punch, each hit harder than the last, her fists pushing against Brie's abs. Brie gasped, her body convulsing with each brutal hit, her belly button taking the brunt of Madelaine's assault.

Brie's body was shaking, her legs barely able to support her. Desperately, she tried to block Madelaine's punches, but it was no use. Madelaine's power was just too much. With one final jab to Brie's belly button, Brie collapsed onto the ropes, her body screaming in agony.

The referee, seeing Brie's condition, moved in quickly. He stepped between the two fighters, shielding Brie from further punishment. He took one look at Brie, her body sagging against the ropes, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, and made his decision. The match was over.

The bell rang out, signaling the end of the round and the match. The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer, their applause echoing throughout the arena. Madelaine stood tall, her body flexing with pure strength as she raised her fists in victory, a triumphant smile on her face.

Madelaine, victorious and unscathed, circled the ring, her body radiating confidence. She flexed her toned thighs, a clear message to her defeated opponent. She had won, and she was ready to celebrate her victory. Brie, on the other hand, was barely conscious, her body slumped against the ropes, the brutal beating she had received evident on her battered body.

Madelaine turned her attention to Brie, her eyes glinting with malicious delight. She leaned in close, her lips curling into a cruel smirk. "What happened to all that talk about bear-hugging the breath out of me?" she taunted, her voice echoing in the silent arena.

Brie, barely conscious, could only groan in response. The brutal assault had taken its toll, and she was barely hanging on. But she was not broken. Her spirit remained unbroken, and she would live to fight another day.

Madelaine, still taunting Brie, flexed her thighs again in a show of victory. The crowd erupted in cheers, their applause echoing throughout the arena. Despite the brutal nature of the match, they knew they had witnessed something special. Madelaine vs Brie had been a battle of strength and skill, and they had both come out with their heads held high. That was something to celebrate.

Official Decision: Madelaine Petsch defeats Brie Larson via TKO 7!

AFTER:

Post-match, the brutal spectacle was far from over. Madelaine Petsch, her body still radiating raw power, grabbed a barely conscious Brie Larson by the hair. With a look of pure malice, she began to drag her across the ring to the Lookout Boxing corner. The crowd watched in stunned silence, their cheers dying down as the spectacle unfolded.

Arriving at the corner, Madelaine slowly lowered herself onto the canvas, never once releasing her grip on Brie. Her thighs, toned and formidable, flexed in anticipation of what was to come next. The crowd held their breath, sensing the brutal humiliation that was about to unfold.

With a final, vicious smirk, Madelaine wrapped her powerful thighs around Brie's midsection. The crowd gasped collectively, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Brie, trapped in Madelaine's inescapable hold, could only whimper in fear and pain.

Then, with a strength that was almost inhuman, Madelaine began to squeeze. Each exhale from Brie was met with an even harder compression from Madelaine's thighs. Every attempt by Brie to wriggle free was met with a cruel chuckle and an even tighter squeeze.

Brie struggled in vain, her body convulsing in a futile attempt to escape the vice-like grip. It was as if Saraya Bevis herself had locked in the hold. The once vibrant fighter was quickly turning a dangerous shade of blue, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

The corner crew of Lookout Boxing, watching the cruel display with growing alarm, started yelling for an intervention. But their pleas fell on deaf ears. Madelaine, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight, refused to release her hold.

Brie's struggles began to weaken, her body starting to go limp. Each breath was a struggle, her air being slowly squeezed out of her by Madelaine's relentless thighs. The crowd watched in horrified silence, the brutality of the scene leaving them speechless.

Madelaine, sensing her victory nearing, squeezed even harder. Brie's body jerked violently, her eyes rolling back in her head. The final vestiges of her consciousness were quickly slipping away, her body succumbing to the brutal hold.

Finally, with a last gasp, Brie went limp. Her body, once filled with life and vitality, was now unmoving. The hold had done its job, Brie was unconscious. But Madelaine, her face a mask of cruel satisfaction, held on for a few seconds longer, making sure her victory was undeniable.

Releasing her hold, Madelaine pushed Brie's lifeless body off her and stood up. She flexed her victorious thighs once more, smirking at the Lookout Boxing crew. Their pleas for intervention had been ignored, their fighter humiliated in the most brutal manner possible.

Victorious and unscathed, Madelaine flexed her thighs one last time, her smirk growing even wider. She had not only beaten Brie Larson, she had humiliated her. The crowd, still in shock, watched as she confidently strutted around the ring, their cheers ringing out once more.

Without a backward glance at her defeated opponent, Madelaine walked around the ring, absorbing the adulation of the crowd. The brutal nature of the match did nothing to dampen their enthusiasm, their applause echoing throughout the arena.

Brie, still unconscious, lay sprawled in the corner. The brutal hold had left her body battered and bruised, a stark contrast to the victorious Madelaine. The crowd watched in stunned silence, the brutal reality of the match setting in.

After her victory lap, Madelaine left the ring. Her body, still radiating raw power, disappeared, leaving the crowd in stunned silence. The brutal spectacle they had witnessed was over, leaving them with the harsh reality of what had transpired.

Back in the ring, Brie slowly began to stir, her body twitching in pain. The brutal hold had taken its toll, her body aching from the relentless squeeze. Her breaths were ragged and shallow, the aftermath of the brutal hold evident in her pained gasps.

Despite the brutal defeat, Brie remained unbroken. Her spirit, though battered, remained undeterred. She would recover, she would fight again. But for now, the ring belonged to the victorious Madelaine Petsch.