Ariana Grande versus Mia Khalifa

The arena throbbed as "Hit or Miss" by iLOVEFRIDAY blasted through the air. All eyes fixated on the entrance ramp, where a petite but formidable figure strode towards the ring – Mia Khalifa.

Standing at just 5'2", Mia had a record of 9 wins and 3 losses. She had recent losses to Ariana Grande’s stable mate Jennifer Love Hewitt and a win over Cougar fighter Donna D'Errico.

Her loyal fans knew that her diminutive stature was deceptive, she packed quite a punch for such a small thing. As she entered the spotlight, Mia Khalifa raised her fists, poised to add another victory to her impressive track record.

The arena crackled with excitement as the opening notes of "7 Rings!" filled the air. The crowd's cheers escalated as a spotlight focused on the entrance ramp, and there she was, the one and only Ariana Grande.

At just 5'1", Ariana Grande’s presence was larger than life. She was a global music sensation and one of the sexiest young women in the world. She exchanged high fives and took selfies with her fans as she danced her way down the entrance ramp.

She finally reached the ring, Grande gracefully climbed up the steel steps pausing for a moment, soaking in the cheers and applause from the crowd before facing Mia Khalifa in the middle of the ring.

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Round 1

Ariana charged towards Mia Khalifa, throwing quick jabs at Mia's breasts. "Ow! Hey, this isn't a JMD match, Grande!"

“Oh lighten up!” The petite fighter chided in her implacable accent. “I know what the people want, Mia. I'm an expert at unwrapping presents!”

"Ariana, seriously, stop going for my boobs!" Mia dropped her arms to cover her chest.

“Your tactics could use some work.” Ariana chuckled, nailing Mia in the face with a hook punch. “But don't worry; I'm here to teach you!"

Mia winced as she was hit in the chin, "Ugh, that one hurt! Cut it out, Ariana!"

Ariana won the round wide and it was now her choice to choose Mia’s forfeit. "That’s quite a toy rack! Now I know why you’re famous, the people have waited long enough... your top!"

"Fine, just get it over with." Mia bit her lip in frustration, knowing that this would be an official loss if she did not comply. She lifted her arms and her corner crew quickly grabbed scissors, and cut the shoulder straps and seams of her top.

Ariana’s lips puckered. "Wow, Mia, those are... impressive.”

“They had better be, I paid good money for them,” Mia said, rolling her eyes.

Round 2:

"I know what your fans like…" Mia Khalifa retorted, fighting back with an aggressive volley of jabs, dead set on regaining control after the first round. Grande, though fast and nimble, had a hard time getting past Mia's two-inch reach advantage. Her punches found their mark whenever there was an opening, slamming into Ariana's gut.

”Oof!” Ariana’s big brown eyes widened. Her mouth opened briefly in a silent gasp, and her arms turned to noodles as her body absorbed the force of the blow. Her legs wobbled for a moment, but she managed to maintain her stance.

Thoughts raced through Ariana's mind as she once again found herself trapped, with her itty bitty stomach getting the worst of it. FCBA wanted the gut punches because the crowd ate it up - the grunts, the grimaces, the expressions of pain that played across the fighters' faces. The top downloads on FCBA's platform were dominated by clips of Ariana taking relentless blows to her tummy.

Mia's rear arm was pulled back, her leading arm lowered ever so slightly, creating room for the uppercut, Her body was a conduit for power, channeled through the kinetic chain from her legs and hips, all the way to her knuckles. Then her fist exploded upward, aimed at Ariana's exposed stomach.

A strained "Ugn!" broke through her clenched teeth, and her arms flailed wildly, desperately seeking respite. Ariana's feet came off the ground slightly, their delicate soles losing contact with the canvas. In that fleeting moment, as her body lifted and folded around Mia's uppercut, Ariana's world seemed to spin. Grande croaked, “Very original Khalifa…”

It was all for the ratings spike, a spectacle that FCBA had capitalized on by creating a whole division for it. Since she had returned to boxing Ariana had unwittingly become the poster child for suffering in the FCBA.

The stomachs of the more famous fighters, like Grande, Swift, and Steinfeld, were like bulls' eyes in the ring. Cash rewards that were promised to fighters who could deliver a savage belly beating made her a prime target. It wasn't just a game; it was a hunt, and Ariana and a few of her teammates, Dunne, Ponton, and Thumann, all had bounties on their stomachs.

Ariana staggered backward driven into the ropes. Mia pounced on her ensnared opponent, her hips swiveled with every punch, adding extra power as she ripped under hooks and crosses at Ariana's exposed tummy.

"Ugh... ugn," Ariana gasped and grunted, her small frame absorbing each punch. Ariana, trapped and defenseless, could do little to protect herself. As the round came to an end, there was no doubt that Mia had asserted her dominance over the heaving Ariana. Mia looked her up and down and demanded with a sharp, contemptuous tone, "The skirt."

Her corner team was quickly at her side, they worked to untangle her from the ropes. Ariana, though battered and bruised, reluctantly complied as she raised her arms. The scissors cut from hem to waistline till the skirt slid away like silk on ice, revealing the smooth curve of her hips.

Grande bit her lip, feeling the cool air across her bare thighs. The audience loved watching her take a beating, and were at a fever pitch once she had lost her skirt. How quickly they had turned on her.

Round 3:

Ariana gritted her teeth, she had endured a round of humiliation, and now, she was eager to prove she could contend with Mia. She adjusted to work on quick footwork and made her punches count. Ariana's gloves found their mark, with uppercuts and crosses directed squarely at Mia's breasts. Ariana had managed to regain some of her momentum by the end of the round. She made sure to remind the crowd that she was the more experienced fighter.

Mia's fortunes took a downturn in this round. As the round concluded, the reality of her situation sunk in — she was now clad in only her bra and skirt, stripped down from her initial Christmas outfit, and about to lose more.

"You know, Mia, I've been thinking…” Ariana contemplated her next move. She leaned in closer, playing with the straps of Mia’s bra, a mischievous glint in her eye, and whispered, “Maybe this round, maybe you should cool off a bit."

“You're unbelievable, Grande.” Mia rolled her eyes, it was against forum rules, but nothing could stop her, "But fine, If that's what you want, just remember that payback is ‘Grande’."

Ariana touched her tongue to her lips briefly and declared, "The skirt," mocking Mia’s voice. Grande was a gifted voice mimic. Mia's corner team went to task removing her skirt. Mia's exposed skin glistened with a sheen of sweat under the bright ring lights.

Round 4:

Mia Khalifa’s elf costume was gone. She was down to green lingerie and a Santa hat, couldn't escape the contrasting sensations of the autumn air's chill and the intense male gaze that seemed to follow her every movement.

Meanwhile, Ariana Grande showed clear signs of exhaustion, her once-energetic movements now hampered by the tight cramp in her belly. Perspiration clung to her skin, and strands of hair peeked out from beneath her cap.

Mia taunted her fatigued opponent. "You're going to sleep, Pixie." She leveraged her height advantage to maintain distance and control. Ariana, slower now, repeatedly walked into Mia's precise jabs.

Splat!! “Ow, hey!" Ariana protested, her gloves guarding her nose. "You may not care about how you look, Khalifa, but my face is my money maker!"

While Ariana kept her gloves up, Mia doubled her assault, landing punches in rapid succession. It started with one, then two, and soon turned into triplets, culminating in full-blown combinations.

Ariana was on the receiving end and found herself teetering on the edge of consciousness. Her legs wobbled, and her vision blurred as Mia's punches landed.Ariana desperately tried to evade being cornered or herded into the ropes, another onslaught to her belly would be unbearable.

The venue erupted with cheers and shouts as the audience came alive. The spectators were out of their seats, reaching a fever pitch as they eagerly anticipated a fourth-round knockout…

Ariana was stumbling, walking in fence post holes, not sure where she was anymore. Mia had her in her sights, the final punch loaded.

It was time to call Tractorpull home from the bar…

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Between rounds;

“You’re in for a long night Ariana, we still have six more rounds. It’s going to be Grande.” Mia gave Ariana a condescending pat on the head. She addressed the corner team. “The shirt.”

Ariana's legs trembled with a mixture of exhaustion and embarrassment. Her shirt was cut away, revealing her 32B breasts to the audience. Her ears were buzzing with the deafening cheers and catcalls that filled the arena, making her blush deeply. The audience was treated to the sight of a true sex symbol being stripped down to nothing but her bra and panties.

"Can you keep going, Ari?" Her corner crew splashed water on her face in an attempt to revive her. She nodded in response to their question, her voice firm, she replied, "Yes, I can go.”

Round 5:

both fighters stood in the center, stripped down to their bras and panties. Mia, nursing her chest, and Ariana, unsteady on her feet, faced off. When the bell chimed, they cautiously circled each other, testing the waters with a few jabs. Ariana, determined to press Mia, lunged forward, but Mia's quick footwork allowed her to sidestep and deliver a crisp blow to the side of Ariana's head.

The petite superstar stumbled dangerously close to the mat but managed to regain her balance, her fists raised. Ariana retaliated, peppering Mia's nose with a series of light taps. However, when Mia adjusted her guard, Ariana seized her opportunity. With lightning speed, she launched an uppercut that connected with Mia's chin, earning an involuntary grunt from her opponent. Mia struggled to react, her movements sluggish compared to Ariana's agility.

The smaller fighter struck again, her glove connecting with Mia's chin once more, causing her vision to explode with flashes of light. Panic surged within Khalifa as she found herself unexpectedly trailing against the diminutive Ariana. Was this really happening? Was she going to lose to Ariana Freakin’ Grande? That was more embarrassing than being in her underwear in front of an arena full of people.

She shook her head desperately, attempting to regain composure, but all she could see was Ariana's gloved hand approaching. The next thing Mia knew, she was lying on her back, staring up at the arena's bright lights.

Ten seconds later, she awoke to the sight of the mischievous Ariana tossing Mia’s bra into the adoring crowd, who celebrated her victory…