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Emma Watson Boxing Kristen Stewart by Luffy316

Kristen had signed on with the new movie deal, and it was a nightmare. It was to be an adaptation of an anime series that had gotten big enough in Japan to warrant the film, and her agent assured her of a sure success with it.

She had no issues with all of that, but her costar made things far more complicated. She was set alongside Emma Watson, playing close friends who enter an amateur girl’s boxing league together. The girls met near the finale in a showdown, so the director was insistent on the two training together. The fact that Watson had kicked Kristen’s ass twice in the secretive Hollywood ring during the last few months made it especially embarrassing for Kristen to go through with, and probably explaining how Emma had gotten the lead over her.

So here she was, wearing a tank top and trunks and a pair of black boxing gloves, working on a heavy bag in some emptied out gym. There was an official ring in the middle, and assorted equipment around. They were arranged to train in real boxing as well as stage fighting, able to hit realistically while still able to fake getting the crap beat out of them. Kristen didn’t quite have the heart to tell them she was quite used to one of those…

Their coach was Chris Kobi, an athletic black guy who Kristen had no real trouble with. He was sure to divide his attention fairly between the girls, it was just how he did it… When he was with Kristen, he was always giving constructive criticism and taking the time to show her new tricks and steps.

With Emma, he mostly raved about her. Kristen could hear him now, halfway across the gym (it was empty apart from them, so it made sense, but still!), and it was starting to grate on her.

“That’s it, Emma! Atta girl! Swing that- yes! Just like that! Wow, girl, you’re a natural! Get out of acting already! The real money’s in boxing, and I can see you’d make it BIG! You’re packin’ dynamite in those gloves! You could show ME a thing or two!”

Kristen could see Emma soaking up the praise, too. Her ego showed in her winner’s smile, all puffed up and upright as her every blow was acknowledged as perfection. Kristen had to feel a little jealous, even if she hadn’t done any real training beyond her Snow White stage fighting, but fake sword fights? That was nothing like boxing.

Fortunately it came to an end sooner than expected. It was only about an hour into the training when Chris clapped his hands. “Alright, I had to run out early this morning, so I missed breakfast. I need to run down the street for something to eat, but you girls, keep up what you’re doing. Kristen, keep those hands up like I showed ya. Emma, you know what to do. Back in about a half hour, alright?”

“Sure,” Kristen conceded, concerned about being left with her previous victor alone, but glad to at least stop the wave of hailing Emma’s talent at one more thing. Emma nodded too, so Chris jogged off for his delayed meal. Kristen went back to practicing on the bags, only a minute or so before she started to feel Emma’s eyes on her. She tried to ignore it, thinking it was just some taunting at first.

“Hey,” Emma said, leaning cutely over Kristen’s shoulder and making her jolt in alarm.

“How’s it going over there?”

“Fine,” Kristen said, trying to hold the punching bag steady to set herself up again, taking some more cautious blows to it.

“Your elbows are way off on your hook,” Emma advised after a minute. “Gotta keep the angle straight. Here, lemee show you!”

Kristen stepped back a bit, sighing and accepting Emma showing her how to box. But instead of approaching the bag, Emma went towards the ring. “What are you doing?”

“Come on!” Emma called to her. “I’m gonna teach you how to box! Coach Chris said I was a natural, remember? I got lots to teach you.”

“You mean fight!?” Kristen said in disbelief.

“Nah!” Emma said waving a glove at her dismissively. “We’re gonna spar! It’s like play-fighting. It’s just gonna be fun, going half-assed on eachother. Play for fun, not for keeps and all that. I’ll go easy on ya.”

Kristen frowned and looked around the gym, as if for a way out. “I dunno… I think I’m ok with the bag for now…”

“We’re gonna have to fight in the ring for the movie anyway. It’s more like a rehearsal! Don’t be a sore loser, now.”

Kristen sighed dramatically, but stepped up to the ropes, pulling herself in. “That’s the spirit!” Emma chimed, thudding her gloves together excitedly and hopping a bit on her boots.

Kristen stepped up and raised her gloves, getting an airy chuckle out of Emma. Kristen gave her a puzzled look, and Emma waved a glove dismissively. “Forget about it,” she said. “I just figured you’d have worked out a bit more after our last fight.

Kristen looked down at her pale arms curiously. She didn’t see much wrong with it, but she looked over to Emma’s own gloves on her hips. It made her biceps bulge at that angle, and it was clear to her that while even though Emma was stronger than her in their last encounter, she’d kept working out. Her physique was even more toned than before, and her workout outfit showed some freshly updated abs on top of her gently bulging biceps. It was subtle unless you were looking for it, but now it seemed clear that Emma was bigger and stronger than her. Kristen’s own body had a softness to it all over that just couldn’t really compare.

“So I’m not obsessed with working out,” Kristen defended. “Sue me.” She brought up her gloves in a ready position, Emma snickering a bit more. Kristen gave her a weary glance.

“No, really,” Emma said with a smile, stepping forward casually (gloves down, arms slack). “Get into a real stance for this. You gotta sell it like you know what you’re doing.” She stepped up to Kristen and pushed a bit at her elbows, just guiding changes to her stance that raised her gloves and tightened up her forearms. “Here, put them like-“

Kristen pulled her arms back, blushing in a huff. “Look! They’re fine! Leave me alone and let’s just get this over with!” Emma smirked and backed away, hands raised in exaggerated innocence as she took a few paces back into her corner. She gave Kristen an expectant grin, Kristen nodding back readily. It was their imaginary bell to move in on each other.

Kristen approached warily, but Emma took quick confident steps into her reach. Kristen took a swing, but was all but flatfooted, while Emma stepped back nimbly from her reach. Kristen tried again with her other glove, but not before Emma stuck a quick shot to her ear for her trouble. The second strike missed just the same, Emma staying one step ahead of her and too quick to catch on her lean athletic legs.

Kristen took another wide, wild swing at her out of vengeance, Emma bringing up her glove to stop her and countering with a swift one-two to Kristen’s belly. She huffed and winced, doubling up a bit and trying to bring her guard down to her gut. They were still sparring, but it was still her first instinct to just stop the beating. Emma stopped another attempt to strike back, just to batter her around the sides of the head next. As soon as her guard went up, Emma wound up her right and swung in a sharp, speedy arc right into Kristen’s stomach, and much harder than she had been hitting so far.

“OOF!” Kristen blurted, air rushing from her mouth as she doubled over, holding her stomach in surprise as Emma pranced back, grinning wide and proud back at the Twilight star.

“I thought you said sparring! Pulling our punches!” Kristen objected, a betrayed and annoyed expression on her face.

“I did! We’re playing still, aren’t we?” Emma grinned. “Come on, get up. Quit your belly-achin.”

Kristen gave her a sour look. “Ok, fine. You can hit me back in the gut for that. But seriously, that was a love tap. You’re exaggerating.”

The thought did pass through Kristen’s mind, but she still wasn’t happy with it. At the best case scenario, she was even more out of shape than she thought and couldn’t take a punch for anything. She got up and couldn’t let herself pass on the chance at a little payback for all the humiliation she’d suffered at Emma’s hands before.

“Ok,” she murmured, standing up straight. Emma held out her gloves invitingly to her sides, like a frozen shrug. Kristen braced herself, determining her best approach on the free shot, but caught herself staring at Emma’s midsection. Her belly was indeed far more sculpted than her own, even starting to show signs of a six pack there. She shook it off and swung a quick hook into Emma’s abs. The tight stomach muscles soaked it up nicely, the hard abs flexing a bit at the impact but not much else.

“Ooh, feel sorry for the punching bags,” Emma said, clearly milking it a bit as she made a puckering face and backed up a pace, rubbing her glove over her stomach more like she was hungry than hurt. “See? THAT’S acting, K. Try it out some time.” She giggled impishly and pranced a bit on her boots, egging Kristen on for them to continue.

Kristen rolled her eyes at this and got her gloves back up. “I’m ready. Let’s get going before Chris gets back.” The two squared off again, this time Emma coming after her more aggressively. She blitzed the weaker actress, shooting gloves at her that kept

Kristen panicking to keep her guard up, unable to provide anything resembling offense. Again and again, Emma’s gloves sounded off in leather slaps and thuds, rattling Kristen in place and forcing her to retreat to try and get any room to move or gain momentum to her own shots.

Then it came again. Emma suddenly poured that extra bit of force into it, ducking down a bit and ramming into Kristen’s midsection. It drove her back the last foot or so into the ropes, Kristen’s back hitting the ringside as Emma tore into her, swinging her arms mightily side to side to bang into Kristen’s ribs sharply. Kristen winced and yelped from the beating, swinging her gloves desperately overhand to thump on Emma’s shoulder blades and back before managing to brace herself on the ropes and shove back with her gloves.

“What the hell is your problem!?” she blurted as Emma stood upright again in the middle fo the ring, breathing a bit heavier and grinning.

“What? An opponent’s gonna do that to you sometimes. You should be ready for that kinda thing. Gonna have to take one of those in Act 3 against Bruiser Bonnie, remember?”

“Fuck that!” Kristen threw up her arms. “You don’t have to be so rough about it!”

“Don’t be like that,” Emma said, still grinning impishly. “We still got a lot of practice to do. Here, I’ll let you in on a bit of a secret…”

She motioned Kristen over to her. Kristen stepped forward warily, but Emma surprised her with a sudden short jab to the nose.


“We’re still sparring! That’s the secret!” Emma cackled. “God, you’re gullible.” Kristen stumbled back trying to hold her nose with her glove, but Emma kept on her. She thumped her glove into Kristen’s, making her bonk herself in the sore nose. Another pair of lower shots rearranged her guts a bit, and one sent a quick nasty shock through her ribs that tossed her off balance. Emma was playing with her, Kristen realized, but it was still hurting like hell, and she knew what she was doing.

Kristen couldn’t contain herself for long, finally erupting in a shriek of anger and swinging a fist up suddenly at the toying Emma. It came in a blind spot for Emma, so she had no preparation for Kristen’s glove’s flight path. It smacked loud and hard into Emma’s cheek, making her body twist in a short spin before she tumbled over, landing flat on her ass on the mat. She looked wide-eyed and stunned, rubbing her cheek with the back of her glove.

Kristen looks to her glove, as if surprised at her own power. She looked up again to see Emma rising up, pushing herself upright and a furious fire in her eyes. Kristen raised her hands defensively, backing away. She hoped to reach the ropes before Emma got to full steam.

“Emma! Wait! It was a mistake! I’m sorry!” Emma rose menacingly, murder in her eyes as she stomped after Kristen. “Please! Emma, please! I didn’t mean it! I’m so sorry! It was really stupid of me to-” She just gulped and turned, trying to outright run from the ring at how furious Emma looked. She was stopped by a glove grabbing her by the shoulder, spinning her around to face Emma just as her other glove shot in, a combined momentum resulting in one hell of a hook. It made Kristen spin around on her toes, grabbing the top rope as she leaned over, gaping and trying to hold her face ineffectively with her own gloves.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” Emma snaps loudly. “Did you just fucking HIT me!? ME!? The star of this goddamned show!?” She used one glove to hold Kristen in place, mostly bent over the ropes as Emma starts swinging in blows under her belly, bashing her guts and sides in.

“I’m the real star, you little shit! Don’t you forget it!” Emma raged at the gasping Kristen.

“You’re a goddamned prop, you got that!? You’re no co-star, you’re not an extra! All you’re here for is to get your ass punched out and make me look better!”

Kristen started to rise a bit to defend herself, looking ready to burst into tears but Emma wouldn’t hear it. Kristen opened her mouth to argue or deny something, but Emma just shot her fist up, smacking her mouth shut with an uppercut that clacked her teeth together and rattled her skull. Kristen went up straight, trying to defend herself.

“How dare you fight back! I’m giving you tips and helping train you, and YOU goddamn hit me!” Emma was red-faced from rage more than effort, boxing Kristen’s ears with her gloves. She howled in surprised pain, going to her knees holding her head. Emma just brought a glove under her chin, lifting up her face so she could see it coming when she bashed in her face, slamming her with a half dozen hard-hitting hammer blows. “No matter how many times I kick your ass, you think you’re hot shit!”

“No!” Kristen moaned out when she took a moment to breathe. “No! I’m not saying that! I swear!”

“SHUT IT, pig!” Emma screamed at her, spraying her with spittle before winding up hard and giving a huge pound to the face, knocking Kristen over flat on her back, staring at the spotlights that moved around in her swirling vision like cartoon characters seeing stars. She breathed heavy, grabbing the ropes and dragging herself back onto loose legs.

“I… Emma, stop,” she pleaded, face contorted in shame and agony. Her face and belly were red and swollen, and she just desperately wanted to get out, shower and go home.

“I’m sorry. I’ve had enough! Just stop, I’m begging you!”

“Too late, shithead,” Emma snarled, clocking Kristen’s moaning mouth to tumble her back into the corner. There she unleashed a bombardment of blows, blasting down at her stomach like a leather hailstorm. Kristen gagged and gurgled at the beating, her soft belly being smushed around by the punches and making a tender target for Emma’s mitts.
Her belly satisfactorily bruised, Emma stopped to get her wind back. Kristen had no such luxury. She leaned back on the ropes with both arms, because it was all that was keeping her up. Her legs were like wet noodles, and where her muscles failed her, the gloves catching on the ropes kept her up like a crude (and badly beaten) puppet.

“No more,” she whimpered weakly, fearing more of Emma’s rage. She was drooling from her bad state, her movements limp and weary from the battering she’d just received. It hurt to breathe thanks to the beatdown on her belly just now. Emma stared at her in fury, Kristen briefly hoping she’d cooled down with her venting before she unleashed another expertly placed combo to Kristen’s face, bouncing her head around with a threesome of punches that sent her head flying every which way.

Kristen’s eyes were glassy after it was done, not clear if she was even conscious to the average inspection. Emma, mostly, didn’t care. She was still broiling at the emo teen starlet, and she wanted more. Whether she was out or not, Emma took her teeth to the strings of her gloves, untying one enough to shake it off and remove the other.

“Fuck this sparring,” she muttered, marching over to Kristen and grabbing her by the hair. A miserable whimper was all she got, but Emma banged her in the mouth with a bare set of knuckles. “I’m gonna kick your ass for real… again!” she snarled at her, bending her over by the hair and smashing a knee into Kristen’s stomach. She heaved and doubled up, falling to her knees. Emma stomped a boot onto her back, knocking to her belly on the mat and standing over her menacingly.

Emma straddled Kristen’s back, grabbing one arm and pulling it behind her, twisting the arm and getting a healthy scream from Kristen as the fresh pain woke her from the stupor.

“Playing possum on me, slut?” Emma sneered. “Well you’re lucky I’m such a good sport. I’m gonna fight you head on. No gloves, no rules, just me kicking the ever-loving shit out of you, alllll over again.”

She ripped Kristen’s glove off, then repeated the process (complete with another shoulder-bending twist of the arm). Kristen tried to curl up, but Emma on her back prevented this. She grabbed Kriste by the hair, pulling up on it and banging her face into the old used mat. “Come on! Can’t box, and can’t fight either!?” Emma demanded, lifting and dropping her face a few more times to the mat. Kristen clawed up at her assailant’s hands, just for Emma to slap them away and rise up, though just enough so she could drive her knee down into Kristen’s spine.

Kristen wailed out loudly, just for Emma to grab hold of the back of her shirt. She lifted her up to her knees, then grabbing her shorts and lifting up with a loud grunt. It was aided by rage, but Emma’s body flexed as she lifted Kristen up off the mats a few feet, spiking her down in a crude wrestling slam that drive Kristen’s back over her knee. Kristen’s cries of anguished pain just got sharper and louder at that, thrashing her limbs blindly.

“Who’s the star!?” Emma demanded furiously at her, spittle and sweating drizzling down over Kristen’s form. Emma had her hand at her chin and lower belly, holding her in place over her knee. “Say it!”

“No… no, Emma please…” Emma just leaned an elbow down over her throat, making her choke more until Kristen nodded, face red from lack of air as Emma released her throat but held her over her knee.

“You!” Kristen squeaked out as she shivered and choked for air.

“Louder, whore!!” Emma roared at her threateningly, driving a quick fist into Kristen’s belly.

“OOMF!” Kristen gagged and gasped for air, the blow making it all the harder to speak any louder, but she tried. “You! Emma! You’re the star!” she wheezed loud as she could.

“And who’s the hottest!?”

“You! always you!”

“And you’d be lucky to look HALF as good as me on your best day, right?!”


“You’re a fucking horrible actress who got famous for taking some vampire cock!”

“Yesssss!” wailed Kristen, just agreeing to anything as loud as she could now, just anything to get out of this agony.

“Now say you’re sorry!”

“Sorryyyyy!” Kristen sobbed miserably.



“For what?!”

“For… for hitting you!” Kristen cried, actual tears forming as everything on her felt swollen and sore, and her back was being worked over Emma’s knee.

“And for your acting?”

“YES! Yes! I can’t act for shit, Emma! I’m sorry! I should have taken your advice!” She was basically being bullied at this rate, but she didn’t care. “Anything,” she told herself. Anything to get out of this and just go home again.

So, with Kristen a weeping mess of tears, sweat and bruises, bent almost in half over Emma’s knee so her softer, weaker body was all but put on display, Emma making demands, threats, and accusations to the loser, Chris happened to return. The instructor stared at the scene, only the sound of the door closing behind him getting Emma to look up at him.

Kristen did too, eyes huge and desperate. “Coach!” she screamed in surprise at the stunned trainer. “Help! Make her stop! She’s crazy!”

Chris looked at the girls in confusion and skepticism. “She won’t stop hurting me, Chris!” Kristen begged. “Make her stop! We were sparring and she beat me, and she was fighting dirty and it got too far and I just wanna stoooop!” She didn’t care if she looked pathetic, or even if she kept this crummy role at this rate.

Emma was just quiet, glaring at Chris not out of anger at him, just lingering feelings from her rightful tormenting of the Twilight teen star. Chris looked overwhelmed, then threw up his hands, climbing into the ring. “Emma, girl, let her go,” he said, not demanding or sharp at all, but as if he were just cleaning up a mess. Emma shoved Kristen hard, letting her flop to the mat for one last shock before Chris arrived, Kristen moaning and holding her sides. Chris gave her a brief, unofficial once over before leaving the ring again. Both girls were confuse, though Kristen far more distracted with her inuries as Chris went to the far side of the gym, at his trophy case.

“How long did you have the gloves off for, girls?” he asked as he seemed to tinker with his trophies.

“Few minutes, maybe?” Emma suggested, puzzled. “Time flies when you’re having fun, right?”

Chris just nodded, distracted when he lifted up one of the larger ones, checking something on the bottom. He smiled widely.

“Got it,” he cheered casually. “The camera picked up the whole thing. The director’s gonna love this shit!”

Emma tilted her head, then grinned too. A hidden camera. Of course. Most gyms would have them installed, but a Hollywood training gym? They probably had loads of them from all angles, and with specialized lighting. Why else would a random gym have spotlights over their sparring ring.

Chris clapped his hands excitedly and walked up towards the ring. “That’s great, girls. Great stuff by what I see. We can totally use it for the flick. But you know what’s missing, right?”

Kristen was having trouble remembering her name right now with all those headshots, so she was useless to the conversation. Emma just waited for Chris to go on.

“The knockout. It’s supposed to be your characters’ big final matchup in the semifinals, meeting after those years of training, and we need a solid knockout from Emma here to put Kristen flat out!”

Kristen gaped at their trainer as Emma grinned wider still. It looked to Kristen like a hungry shark’s.

“You can’t be serious!” Kristen blurted.

“Totally. It’s how the script goes, it’s how the comic goes. Emma’s gotta knock you out.” He started helping fit Emma back into her gloves, which she graciously assisted with, and then he knelt to start tying them onto the battered Kristen. Kristen’s legs were shaking even when she wasn’t standing on them.

“No! Chris, please! I… but I can fake that knockout part, right? The beating was bad enough, but I can just take a dive.”

“You know the director,” Chris said with a careless shrug, trying to encourage Kristen to get back up. “He likes his stuff as genuine as he can get it. Give the audience something real.”

“PFFF!” Emma made a rasberry at the suggestion. “With her acting, there’s no way they’d buy it.” she marched over and lightly shoved Chris aside, taking the point to leave the ring for the shot. “We’re doing this real, and we’re doing it now, while tubby here’s bruises are still fresh. Now get your wimpy ass up, pussy!”

She got her gloves around Kristen’s head, forcing her back upright. She looked dazed and unsteady, but most of all scared. After all the beating already, she’d just been forced to agree to.

“Emma please, no,” she squeals. “I can do this. You don’t have to put me out for real, right?”

Emma rolled her shoulders, clearly getting ready as she could for one hell of a punch.

“Learn to act and we’ll talk. For now, at least make yourself useful for SOMEthing and get knocked the fuck out.”

Kristen bit her lip and looked to Chris, who remained quiet and calm by ringside. He was no help. Emma wound up her fist far enough back that it would have fit into a Popeye cartoon, especially as her muscles flexed to their max before rocketing towards her.

Kristen even chickened out, as Emma’s glove came in she tried raising her own to guard. But she was dizzy and slow, and Emma’s punch went in faster than she’d planned. The fist crashed hard into her jaw head on, Kristen having a faint taste of blood before blacking out, hitting the mat like a rag doll. Genuinely out cold.

“Said it before, and I say it again! Goddamn AMAZING!” Chris praised, claping loudly at ringside.

Emma let out a huff of air, shaking out her hair and smiling proudly at her handiwork. Once again, Kristen powerless and beaten at her feet. She looked around, noticing the camera pointed over a portrait by Chris’ boxing trophies. She placed her booted foot on Kristen’s chest, flexing one of her impressive arms for the camera and giving a (literally) winning smile. She stood up tall on top of Kristen’s belly, feet pressing in on her belly fat as she stood up tall with a double bicep flex, showing just how ready she was for this aggressive new role. Finally, she sat on Kristen’s face, lean ass resting on the lifeless, KO’d girl. Emma grabbed at her belly and lifted up her shirt, giving the camera a cheeky wink along with a tasty shot of her sweaty, toned abs.

Like I said, girl,” Chris smiled broadly like a proud father. “Fuckin’ dynamite!”

The End.

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