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21 June 2017 Demi Lovato vs Demi Rose Mawby

Page history last edited by anonononononononon 5 years, 6 months ago

 

Before: The self-proclaimed “World’s Sexiest DJ” has little respect for her opponent: "I'm a natural, the perfect punching machine. I know Jessica Simpson used to say that, but that was all talk in her case: I'm the real deal. I hit so hard for my size, girls can't believe it - and nobody’s going to be able to handle my power. I'll destroy her, then show her what a world-class booty feels like!"

Lovato knows she’s vulnerable coming off a bad-looking loss to smaller Megan Fox on Saturday. “Yes, it’ll look terrible if I get beaten by a rookie. That’s why it’s not going to happen!”

Lovato stripped down to black leather bikini top, jean shorts and black fishnet thigh-highs, black gloves, chin length hair loose. Black fur bikini for Rose, black gloves, raven hair in a long battle braid that reaches down to her butt. 


R1: Rose crouching and weaving her way in, crossing her arms and ripping away to ribs in close. Lovato driven back butt-in-ropes and this thing gets brutal in a hurry. Grueling give and take as Rose stands right in Lovato’s kitchen and hammers away at her flanks, snatches mittfuls of tummy out of the crouch. Lovato rattled, but unbowed--she’s trying to hook her left shoulder under Rose’s armpit, pick her up with little right uppercuts, pack home tight left hooks to ear and in behind the elbow. Grinding first round for Rose, hair in her face, big smile as she bounces away with points.

R2: Rose storming the front gate again, Lovato giving ground behind the jab, turning at the ropes, keeping her back clear of the strands. Early Rose pressure fizzles when Lovato walks her girl into a jarring right uppercut, Brit brought to a halt, covered up, Lovato takes the initiative. Jab-jab-jab to Rose’s face, stepping to the right and ANOTHER jagged little right uppercut pop between the mitts, Lovato poking and stepping, fitting her Brit for hard rights, walking away. Rose bloody nosed, ragged at the bell as Lovato gets off spanking.

R3: Rose working out of the bob, pressing the pace. Lovato twisting into swinging rights and lefts, but Rose consistently able to time them with her torso weave, get underneath and sink a beefy blast to paunch or ribs. Lovato backing up once again, getting lit up in her breadbasket, and after the midway point, she’s pretty much fighting off the ropes. Lovato covering up earmuff now, bending down to take away her tummy, Rose adjusting, looping the hook to carom off the hip, or sink in behind that right elbow, rolling her shoulders, picking up American’s chest with clubbing combo’s underneath, trying to arch into clipping uppercuts as singer stoops forward. 

R4: Lovato baring her teeth and taking midring strong, guard at her cheeks, elbows in, tightening up the strokes, sprucing Rose up with uppercuts—skidding lefts and rights off Brit’s face as she bobs down. Lovato a much different fighter coming forward, now blasting amidships with loud spank, working Rose’s ribs after straightening her out with uppies. Rose’s turn to slide along the ropes, crossing her arms and trying to stay low, Lovato loading up and WELTING those bronzed flanks—big beefy 2 and 3 left hands in succession, then pushing Brit to her right to wallop multiple rights to the flank. Crowd roaring at the shellacking display, Lovato very muscular as she sets and rips thumping punches. Bell sounds Rose is humming from punishment and LOVATO CLOUTS HER LATE! Cheap right hand swivels Rose’s head, sitting her dazed in the ropes—ref has to tackle malicious ‘Merican away before things get ugly.

R5: Rose seething at late hit, up off her stool well before the bell, damn-the-torpedoes charge into the teeth of Lovato’s fire. FIERCE punching at midring, compact bodies bending into tight overhand rights, then uncoiling vicious lefts—whistling punches smash back and forth and LOVATO SCOOTS TO HER BUTT! Lovato frozen by a Rose right, caught clean by the come-back hook and American’s dusting herself off for 8. Rose barging in to finish, but Lovato’s dug in—BLISTERING two-way action at the ropes. Rose pushing and swinging at the midsection, clouting about the head—Lovato rocketing off the ropes with looping right hands on the jaw, turning into tight hooks to the chin and rib. Savage trade spills on past the bell—both beauties want to land the last shot as the ref jumps in.

R6: Lovato gets the jump, jams Rose into her turnbuckles, her turn to hunker down, fight for her life. Hammer and TONGS as these girls go at it—gloves bouncing off taut sides and hips, thumping off firm midriffs, then seeking chin with opportunistic hooks or uppercuts in close. Too many punches to follow as the girls ladle it out, Rose twisting into a series of hooks to the rightside ribcage—Lovato hooking back to the jaw, swiveling Rose’s head in a shower of sweat, giving HERSELF a pony-lash with that long braid. This is spiteful, bitter leather. More punching after the bell—ref earning his money tonight as seething fighters are pulled apart, both jazzed on adrenaline and hate.

R7: Both girls badly worn down, achy and hurt during the breaks, but focused on total victory. Slamming together midring behind simultaneous right hands, girls continue the murderous trade of the previous 6 heats. Lovato clinching and clutching, stepping out to walk Rose into trouble, shooting a nice, loose limbed right hand to the body has Brit groaning, doubling up slightly, and unable to punch. Down the stretch, Lovato fitting in a right hand behind Rose’s elbow, rookie unraveling slightly and Lovato steps into a tight left hook behind the ear and ROSE GOES DOWN! Rookie bluffed and suckered, hops sideways and falls to all fours as Lovato glares triumphantly. Rose beats the count, but she is dazed, on comes Lovato with 45 seconds to work. Horrific beating up against the ropes as Lovato puts punches together, ripping into belly, shouldering up then pumping right uppercuts close. Rose all busted up, sagging on the ropes at the bell.

R8: Brawlers wade in crazy, quickly embrace as punches wrap around: this thing falls to canvas all thrashing legs and squealing vixens. Useless slapping as the girls roll one atop the other - eventually resolving into more useful play when fighters establish on their knees. Left arms ride around opposition shoulders; right hands plug and plow underneath - tummies, trunks, jug all roundly thumped until ref can pull 'em up, shake 'em out. Right back at it - girls shrieking, pinwheeling at each other, embracing, falling to the deck, writhing to get on top and jam away. At one point, Lovato finds herself bent over the bottom rope - torso out of the ring as Rose rises up on her knees to plow repeat right hands feverishly to raised denim-clad buttocks. At another, Lovato actually mounts Rose, sitting in the girl's stomach and wailing away lefts and rights as a panicked Brit covers up, bucks her hips and screams for the ref. Simply wild in there as the girls shriek and cuss, pulling or tackling each other down to canvas, then squirming to be the girl on top. Lovato on all fours; Rose up on her knees, with her left looped round American's ribs as she slams away mindless rights to left hip, thigh, buttock and flank. Rose seated with legs outstretched; Lovato on her knees in behind, left arm roped around Brit's face while right hand hammers over Rose's right shoulder to slam against heaving fur-covered-jug. Ref standing little hellions up: they ram together and tumble down again - legs stamping, backsides jiggling.


R9: Stumbling action from exhausted beauties. Rose will grab a handful of Lovato’s breasts and walk into her, driving her to ropes. Lovato will wrap up Rose's head and twist her into ropes, then plow a sleepy right hand into trembling British guts. Rose's hands reach under Lovato's armpits, shoving her ragdoll into ropes Rose badly jostled, open for drifting rights to mouth and jug. Lovato's actually able to target chin with shorter, straight blows, catching Rose hard and shunting her head off to either side. Rose's legs ragged, loose - she's stamping around, eyelashes fluttering, lips parted - swinging wide, slow blows as Lovato senses collapse. Lovato takes Rose down with a left to the waist, uppercut followup, slamming her to her back hard: Rose's head hits canvas, arms fly out to either side. Lovato bent over gloves-on-knees in neutral corner, chest heaving like a bellows, steaming in the cold air, eyes locked on little Brit as she pulls herself up the ropes. Gasping, breathy whimpers replace the eager shrieks of the early rounds - both girls sloppy, stumbling about, but still mindlessly trying to get at the other. Both girls work out of the wrap - riding the left round her foe's shoulders, slumping her forward for pumping rights jug and tummy. Suffering in the wrap, both girls just sob out, eyelashes fluttering as resistance is beaten down all around. FOUL! Lovato crams her right hand to Rose's crotch in close, crowding in with her body on follow through: Brit cries out, shudders, drowsily clinches. Lovato pushing Rose's arms away, stays on that body: more right hands plow to tummy as American snakes her left arm 'round Rose's back. Rose trying to close up her clinch with her left arm - but Lovato keeps pushing it away with her right, then plowing back in with rights tummy and jug. Rose can't stop it - she's seated in ropes, head lolling, body loose and being held up by Lovato's cruel wrap: she;s just plugging right hands tummy and jug, tummy and jug and THE REF STEPS IN! Rose swooning, drowsy - she mumbles a protest into the man's chest as she's cradled to safety while Demi Lovato stumbles away with the TKONasty in this battle of the Demis!

After: Lovato grabs Rose by the braid and by her bottoms, frog-walks her outside, where a crowd whipped into a frenzy by the trashy bout they just saw on the Jumbotron is waiting. Pitching the beaten Brit to the ground, she peels down her shorts to reveal a black leather thong! Straddling Rose, with her feet below either armpit, she starts to twerk her way down for the facesit…

AND GETS CLOCKED FROM BEHIND BY A ….snowboard? A ski-suited Megan Fox scoots out of the crowd as Lovato falls forward, sprawling across Rose. Megan grabs the fallen Lovato by the arm, pulling her over to her back. “No Emily to save you this time!” she cackles as she prepares to mount Lovato for the facesit she was denied on Saturday AND SHE GETS TACKLED OFF BY ROSE! Megan’s head bounces off the ground with an audible THUNK, leaving all three beauties woozily grabbing, shoving, and slithering over each other in a punch-drunk pile until security pulls them apart. 

 

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