This Tale is Continued Directly from a Story that I Cannot Find — Still Figured You’d All Want To Have It Up!
The beatdown would not be tolerated. No way. She had been lucky, and that was that. Avril Lavigne told herself and everyone she could entrust with the news of her defeat. It wasn’t even a real fight when Miley Cyrus had beaten her at that beach. It was an outrage for her to even feel proud of the victory!
And that was where her idea brewed into fruition. She had called together an exclusive interview and released her public announcement of what had happened. She and Miley had gotten into a belly punching contest on the beach, and feeling naturally superior and overconfident, she had managed to slip up and let Miley get the best of her. Now she wanted to prove once and for all to everyone that she was the top pop star.
She openly challenged Miley to a public match (even making the call to Miley personally in front of her interviewer), held in a stadium and selling tickets to fans who wanted to come and see her bitter rival beaten down and humiliated before their very eyes by their absolute favorite celeb singer.
…to paraphrase, naturally.
There was a sizable crowd at the arena, eager to be present when Avril came out in an old favorite from a modeling shoot. She wore black leather for her top and long pants, white lace around her cleavage and chords crossing under her chest, cutting off promptly before exposing a large portion of her belly. She paraded to the ring as her song “Hot”s chorus played over the loudspeaker, hands up over her head to urge on the loud cheering of the crowd. Some cheered just for the fight itself, but many supported the punky spunky singer. She had a bad girl persona that many thought would carry her to the top of this fight.
Seemingly the smarter and more selective fighters favored the second fighter to enter the ring. As Avril’s music faded out, Miley came in by the other side of the stadium’s entrance in a white robe. Her hit “Party In the USA” blasted overhead as she walked to the ring with a calmer, more professional air to her. She still smiled wide to her fans and gave out high fives and a brief autograph or two on the way to the ring, much like Avril had.
“Get over yourself, little girl!” Avril called from the ring before her opponent even reached it, jeering to the approval of her own fans. “Just get in here and get that ass kicked so the crowd can get some nice shots of me posing on your beaten fugly bod.”
“Fugly, huh?” Miley scoffed back at ringside, folding her arms and smirking.
“Folks, you turned off when you see this?” Cyrus threw back her shoulders and dropped her robe to the ground, baring a striking yellow bikini. The crowd lit up with approaching hoots and cheers as her young figure was almost completely exposed, jutting out her hip and resting a palm on its opposite. She stood there a minute, holding her pose and letting the crowd soak in the sight that was her body.
Avril gaped for a second, but snapped out of it and maintained a simple blush, hoping that most of the crowd wouldn’t notice at this range. “Jeez, slut it up some more, why don’t you? Getting off to all those eyes on your skanky vag hanging out of that slut suit?”
Miley scowled up at her before even touching the ring yet. “Grow up, will you? You’re just jealous. You’re nothing special, you’re just a tramped up wannabe who can never be as big as I am.”
Avril scoffed coolly. “You really think so? You’re always in my shadow, twerp. Should realize you’re outclassed and not ready to play with the big girls just yet.”
Miley folded her arms and just smiled back coolly. “You weren’t talking like that last time on the beach.”
“Oh grow up,” Avril dismissed with a scoff and a wave of her hand. “That was child’s play. You might have a tougher stomach, what with all that fat you piled on there, but this is a REAL fight. Against a grown girl like me?” She flexed one pale slender arm proudly. “You haven’t got a chance.”
“Grown up,” Miley chuckled as she climbed into the ring and the cheers escalated from the impending fight and the trash talk. “Could have fooled me.”
Taking a cheap shot at her while she entered crossed Avril’s mind, but she decided to pass on the opportunity. This was a real fight, and she was the older and stronger of the two, obviously. She wouldn’t need that much of an edge to beat her.
“Oh what? Think cuz you’re taller you’re tougher, slut?” Avril scoffed. “Cuz that won’t save you.”
“Actually I was talking about that big bullseye of a belly you have. Remember last week’s beach show? Not what you’d call your usual ‘belly dance’ now is it?”
“Lucky shot! Not like you haven’t gotten lucky with a few dozen strangers ever since you came to Hollywood, is it, whore?” Avril spat back.
“You’re nothing but weaksauce, Avril. Weak talk, weak music, weak body. And the whole world’s gonna see it, along with ALL three of your fans.”
Avril cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders. “Alright, time to shut your cock-hungry mouth, bitch.” She raised her fists, ready for Miley’s face and stomach to repay her humiliation.
There was a bell ringing overhead, not that the girls intended to wait anyway. They circled a bit, unsteadily matched since neither were especially trained at this sort of thing. Avril couldn’t restrain herself for long, though, zipping in to send a slap for Miley’s cute but smirking face. Miley still saw it coming, reaching up to grab her forearm. Right off the bat, Miley’s fist shot in under Avril’s guard and hit her bare belly with an audible smack.
Avril huffed and stumbled back, eyes wide for a moment as she held her stomach and backed up. Miley grabbed her by the fabric of her top, pulling her back towards her and giving a short-range slap across Avril’s face. She stumbled and almost lost her footing entirely, staggering to one side holding her cheek and looking shocked. The fans shouted out in approval at the start of the match in general, with Miley’s fans added to the mix.
Miley raised her hands up proudly, flexing her thin (but notably thicker than Avril’s) arms boisterously for the crowd. “What’s the matter? That little pudding gut of yours done in already? Thought you took at least TWO punches last time.”
Avril coughed but gathered herself into her angry expression again soon enough. “You wish, bitch! You’ll pay for that!” She lunges after Miley, stopping one arm midslap as she sank her claws into Miley’s hair. Miley shrieked out as the punk teen twisted at her styled hair, flailing at her wildly as she’s distracted by Avril’s dirty fighting. Miley screams out as her scalp stings, kicking at Avril’s legs and throwing her off balance briefly before she went on with her attack. She swung Miley by her hair over her hip, making her flop over and land on her butt, wincing and holding her hip where she’d landed. Avril fumed and went after her, but Miley leaned on her palms and swung a kick into Avril’s ankles, tripping her back to the mat as well.
Back on her level, Miley pounced on her and grabbed for her wrists. Avril struggled to resist her, but Miley was heavier and stronger, so her resistance futilely pressing on a few seconds before her hands were mashed flat to the mat. Avril growled and thrashed wildly, kicking at the mat like a tantrum in the face of Miley’s trapping grip.
“Gotcha now, you weak dirty bitch!” huffed Miley, face red with effort and pain from her scalp. She leaned her hips back and banged them into Avril, her body bouncing on top of her in a mocking humping motion, but also helping in knock the wind out of the loudmouth. Avril grunted and huffed with each slam, body shaking slightly beneath her foe’s.
Miley finally got up, shaking out her hair from her face as she rested on her knees. Avril coughed for air, so she was wide open when Miley sat up straight, clamped her hands together, and slammed her fists down as a double axe-handle slam down on Avril’s stomach. The Canadian singer almost doubled over while still flat on her back, legs and arms whipping up as the wind flew from her mouth, leaving her speechless for the first time in a long while.
Avril wailed out weakly and held her bashed belly, rolling miserably as Miley got up to her feet, smiling down on her whining rival. She raised her hands to her cheeks, wringing her fists in a mock-crying motion teasing the already tenderized Canadian. “Don’t mind her, folks. Baby has a tender tummy.” Avril was starting to show some signs of getting herself together when Miley walked over to her and landed an elbow drop to her belly, smashing another loud cry from the rival teen temptress.
The crowd was wound up with the beatdown, cheering on Miley’s rapid lead and some trying to back Avril into making a comeback. Miley soaked up the attention proudly, knowing she wasn’t going to let the scrawny loudmouth bitch get the best of her before a crowd. She reached down and grabbed Avril by the ankle, pulling her leg upward and locking her fingers around her foot. She twisted it as she fell backward, bending the limb out of shape away from her groin. Avril screamed out and held her thigh muscle, trying to endure the pain of the simple hold as she reached for Miley’s hands, but her own long legs damning her from reaching her assailant.
Avril too refused to lose to the younger, stuck up slut who beat her last time. She grit her teeth, biting back her screams and managing to pull herself into an upright sitting position. Her face was clearly contorted in pain to do so as Miley put on the pressure. Avril actually didn’t reach for Miley’s gripping arm, instead reaching down her blouse. She came out with a clenched fist, Miley unable to see what was going on until her fist crashed into Miley’s belly with shocking force, smashing upward under her ribs and into her guts.
Miley gagged and curled up in a fetal position, wincing and rubbing her belly in agony. The shot had been aimed perfectly by the bitter enemy, and she hadn’t caught sight of Avril putting the roll of quarters into her palm to fortify her punch. There was no ref to speak of to stop her, and they hadn’t agreed to any particular rules to begin with. It was a fight, not a match or a particular contest. “Yea, like that, bitch!?” Avril shouted down at her foe, a mix of cheers and boos sounding off. “Would’ve thought you’d see that coming. Whore like you must be used to money stuffed down her clothes.”
Avril struck a pose or two over her still agonizing foe, cameras going off like wild as Avril tried to bite back the pain in her own belly and leg to show off some more. She finally leaned in over Miley’s face, sticking out her tongue inches from her face and waving her weapon proudly, gloatingly at her. Miley barely had her eyes open enough to see this and to fume at it, but still just getting her breath back.
Avril raised her fist high and proudly, shouting a gloating “YEAAA!” to the crowd, firing them up before she gave a short jump, diving down at her and dropping her fist right at her gut. Of course, the war cry and Miley’s blurry vision gave her fair warning to roll away from the blow. Avril gave a yelp as clutched her hand, suddenly mashed between the mat and the quarters that rapidly reddened her fingers when her weapon bit back at her. Miley scowled at the cheating brawler.
“Unlike you, my gut can handle more than one punch!” she snapped, leaning on her arms and shooting a kick out to slam her heel into the stunned Avril’s chest. She grunted out in surprise, clutching her small breasts before another kick sank into her soft stomach. Avril went to her knees, falling onto her face and groaning out loudly, shaking her head weakly as if in denial about the pain.
“Yea, your little pain-sponge of a gut like that?” Miley taunted back at her foe, reaching for her foe when Avril swung blindly for her. She grabbed Avril’s wrist, and the roll fell into Miley’s hand. She saw it and pieced this together, scowling down at Avril. The bitchy Canadian who had picked a fight with her, lost, did it again, called her a whore, and then cheated during the fight before both their fans. The crowd gasped and murmured a bit at Miley taking the weapon, mulling this over.
She threw it away outside the ring. She was all those things, but she’d also be the bitch who nobody would say Miley needed any outside help to beat the shit out of. She lifted her shirt a bit to check the bruise on her belly, scowling at Avril. Her midriff looked much worse than hers, red and blue and sore from her various blows. Avril was trying to get her wits together enough to sit up, but held her aching abs as she tried and failed with the pain in her guts.
Miley wasn’t going to show any more mercy for that reason, so she threw herself on top of Avril, swinging her fists and slaps rapidly into Avril, as fast as she could whip her hands at her. Avril shrieked and cried out like a frightened child, any air of maturity and confidence draining from her as Miley went berserk on her aching body. She got her hands on Avril’s hair, not pulling but rather using it as a handle for bashing her head back into the mat over and over. She let go, shoving her face into the mats and standing over her, scowling down at Avril.
“That all you got!? Come on, get up! Dare you!” Miley ranted at her, Avril only starting to sob and shivering on the mat. Miley smacked her bare cleavage in challenge at her, daring her to get up and hit her back. She actually stood and waited almost half a minute, goading her and clapping her hands to work up the crowd at her triumphant moment. “Come on! Where’s that big mouth, smartass!? Seems like a lot of work to call people out here just so I can OFFICIALLY prove I’m better than you,” Miley pressed, stomping on her back when Avril rolled over to try and hide her shamed face. Miley laughed and waved to the crowd, pointing down at her. “Everyone want to see me finish off this pathetic, smelly slut you were cheering for me to kick the crap out of?” she boasted, the crowd roaring in approval regardless of original loyalties.
Miley bent over her, grabbing Avril’s lovely top and tearing it off in a mess of snapping strings and popping buttons. “Now that we know what a weak whore you really are, might as well dress more like one. Not like that’s hard for you, right?”
Avril was left topless, barely able to bring her hands over her chest in embarrassment but Miley grabbing her wrists and pulling them apart. “Oh knock that off! Not like everyone who’s heard you name hasn’t seen them already!” She forced Avril to stand up, her belly aching to do so as Miley shoved her top half through the middle ropes, grabbing her chin and bending her backward by it, arching her back so that her sore belly and tender tits were bared to the crowd, wide and clear with perky little nipples hard with excitement and cold open air.
“Uhhn! Let go! Stoooop!” Avril wailed out. “I’m sorry already, just stop!”
“She’s such an attention whore, I bet she’s loving this,” Miley laughed. Avril groaned in pain and coughed for air, Miley ramming forward to slam her knee in to Avril’s back, getting another scream from her.
“Tell the fans who won, bitch! Say how much your cheating helped you win!”
“I’m sorry!” Avril blurted miserably, face twisted in pain as she blushed. “You won! I’m sorry! Let me go! Please!” She was visibly broken before her foe and her fans, Miley letting her go from the humiliating pose. It was just that, she determined, not nearly as dirty a trick as Avril would excuse herself. She had the moral highground, she felt, and was going to keep it that way, even when humiliating and punishing the bitch.
Miley dragged her from between the ropes, turning her around to face the crowd again in the middle of the ring. “Louder skank! Who won?” Before she could answer, she kicked her legs out from under Avril, the Canadian songstress yelping out as she landed on her side on the mat, her head thumping against the mat and holding her skull as her head pounded. Miley went over and pressed her heel down on Avril’s head, mashing her cheek into the mat. “Say it, tramp! Don’t let my beating your ass stop you.”
“Youuuu!” Avril wailed out, thrashing and clawing at the mat to try and drag herself out from under her foe. “Oh god, you’re crushing me! Please, fucking stop!” Her head was throbbing from the beating and stomping, the shame and intense effort just adding to the headache.
“Say my name! Say who won!”
“Miley! Miley Cyrus!”
“Use some real sentences, you stupid cxnt!” Miley laughed at her. “I know you’re stupid (I mean, you DID challenge me), but I at least thought you’d have a cock out of your mouth long enough to learn how to talk.”
“Miley Cyrus kicked my ass! She fucked me up! She’s the champ!” Avril sobbed out hysterically, desperate to end the pain at this point. “Let go! Let go, I’ll say anything! I’m a slut! I’m a failure! I’m a shitty musician and you’re so much better than me!”
Miley pulled on her hair hard, raising her to her knees. She slapped Avril’s face back and forth. “Again. You know the fans love hearing you fail, and agreeing with all my praises.”
“You’re so good,” Avril sobbed out, face twisted in sorrow, pain, and shame. “You’re stronger, you’re the better singer. You can kick my ass, even if there were three of me! Me and all my friends wouldn’t have a chance, but it’s because I have so few friends!”
Miley grinned at her, then pulled her hair to shove her face into flexing arm. “Kiss it,” Miley commanded. “Praise the muscles that beat you.” Avril whimpered and kissed the bicep as commanded, licking it over in disgustingly overt sexual nature. Miley laughed loudly in her face as she did, Avril’s saliva and tears dampening her arm.
Miley tore up on her hair, ripping out a few strands and throwing it aside. Avril was left minus a handful of hair, standing awkwardly with her legs wide apart, holding her scalp and barely standing, like a half-nude scarecrow.
Miley pulled Avrils pants around her ankles, then spanked her loudly on the buttocks. She shrieked as her panties were smacked, then again louder when Miley smacked her bare buttocks. A third, harder one make her leap several inches and try to run away, tripping over her pants and falling pathetically onto her bare tits and face on the mat, much to the crowd’s laughter. She grabbed the ropes, pulling herself up to her knees as Miley came in from behind, grabbing her by her slutty black thong and pulling upward, wedging the already tight garment up deep into her ass and pussy. Avril screeching out in shamed pain at the wedgie. It seemed to be all the strength she had just to do that.
Miley leaned back, one foot on Avril’s back as she yanked the wedgie hard, finally the thong snapping off mostly in Miley’s hands, the rest lost somewhere deep inside of Miley’s various slutty holes. Miley grinned and took her handful of underwear, taking Avril’s hair to turn her around and shove the firstful of cloth into her mouth, Avril gagging meekly as she was forcefed her own panties. Miley dragged her back to her feet, back resting on the ropes and on display for all to see and laugh at Miley’s actions.
“Maybe that will shut you the fuck up for once!” Miley shouted at her, Avril recoiling pathetically as she drooled around the thong. Miley tapped on her chin thoughtfully. “In fact, why risk it?” She spun around, clocking Avril right in the cheek. Her eyes crossed goofily for a moment before she collapsed to the mat, an unconscious rag doll in the ring.
The crowd shouted loudly, a bell ringing to mark Miley’s obvious victory. Miley panted to catch her breath from her beating and adrenaline rush, but smiled wide for her fans, blowing kisses and posing for photos. She eventually moved over to pose for them with a foot on Avril’s mostly nude body, victory poses for them.
“You know what? I couldn’t have done this beatdown without my fugly co-host. Let’s bring her out for some photos, huh? I’m sure the bitch would love this being on the cover of Teen Dream.” She lifted up Avril by an arm and her hair, even with her as pure dead weight able to handle the Canadian punk. She posed her like a rag doll she was, Avril exhausted and out cold as she made her wave to the fans. She had her stick her ass out, spanking herself with a limp wrist. She went on to grope herself, loose hands rubbing over her breasts and pussy with her cheap painted nails. Miley put her through another few inappropriate poses. She moved her mouth to make her talk about what a Canadian hoebag she was like a dummy. “You know what? Let’s let her give us a lesson! Looks like Avril just donated her body for science.”
Miley grabbed Avril by the thighs, lifting her up and landing her butt on top of the turnbuckle. She held her ankles, spreading them wide out before locked on the top ropes. “This, ladies and gents, is what a whore’s cxnt looks like,” she explained, grinning widely. She ran her fingers over Avril’s koed cxnt, fingernails tracing over her anatomy. “See how her clit’s all big and her pussy’s wet, even when she was humiliated and beaten just seconds ago? She’s aroused by any attention at all, so it’s no wonder she craves all this attention. She must stay wet from the gallons and gallons of cum she took inside her over the years. With a good eye, even you can tell a whore from a real girl just by these easy signs.” The crowd laughed loudly at her erotic and shameful show, finally letting go so that Avril fell backward, held upside down only by her legs trapped on the ropes and hanging like an effigy ragdoll.
In the end, finally content, Miley left the ring unassisted, fully clothed, and the moral and literal victor. Avril was left in the ring koed, drooling, barely a scrap of clothing on, and always remembered as the aggressor to what became known as one of the biggest, worst beatdowns in celeb history, digging her own grave so to speak, even if Avril would later sometimes wish she could curl up and die instead of have to endure the ridicule she’d receive for her own big mouth