Britney Spears Vs. Mike Tyson

[jiminy]

Great story from "the valkyrie" website, not written by me but by BC242 who also wrote some other great stories. If Hendrix, Reiber and other Britney aficionados haven't read this one, I highly recommend it!

BRITNEY SPEARS VS. MIKE TYSON
by BC242
Sexy Young Superstar Taunts, Challenges and Fights Former Heavyweight Champ


Note: Britney Spears and Mike Tyson are both real people, whose careers as
well as their antics in their private lives have been well-documented and
are part of the public record. This story uses some of this factual
information. However, this story is set in the future, and events described
are fantasy and have not, at least at the time of this writing, actually
occurred. Readers should approach this story as if it were several months
into the future, but it must be noted that this story was written
contemporaneously in 2004. The story also assumes that Britney has had a
lifelong disdain for Tyson, which is only an assumption, but hardly an
implausible one, considering that this disdain is shared by many people.


BRITNEY SPEARS VS. MIKE TYSON
BY BC242


Britney Spears looked radiant as she entered the casino at the Las Vegas
hotel where she was in the middle of a week-long series of sold-out
performances. As usual, the paparazzi were there, but also many "regular
people", on vacation in Vegas, who squealed in surprised delight at being in
the presence of a major celebrity. Of course, this was nothing new for
Britney. She had been in the spotlight since her teens, and now, at age 22,
she was more popular than ever.

Suddenly, there was a bit of excited noise that came from the other end of
the casino. The professional photographers ran towards the commotion. The
first to get there called to the others: "Hey, it's Mike Tyson!"

Britney kept a frozen smile on her face, but inside she seethed. Brittney
HATED Mike Tyson, and always had.

Tyson was the first heavyweight boxing champion that Britney ever knew of.
She was 5 years old in 1986 when Iron Mike Tyson, the undefeated brawler
from Brooklyn via the State Penitentiary, became the champ.

Two years later, Britney saw Tyson's soon to be ex-wife tearfully talking
about Tyson slapping her around, as well as drooling on her as he slept in
her arms. A wave of anger came over 7 year-old Britney. "I wish I could beat
him up!" she thought to herself repeatedly as she watched the scandal unfold
on TV for the next few months. But along with her anger, Britney also
laughed at Tyson. He may have been 15 years older than Britney, but he
drooled like a baby! So from that age, the anger and the disrespect she felt
for him went hand in hand.

In 1991, Britney's feelings of contempt for Tyson were confirmed, when he
was convicted of rape. Britney was then almost 10, and though she was
thrilled when he was found guilty and had to go to prison, she felt a new
surge of anger at him when he showed off his handcuffs, which were in front
of him, to the TV cameras as he left the courtroom for jail, as if the rape
and everything else was a joke. Again, she wished that she could beat him
up, but in reality, it of course couldn't happen.

Britney and her retinue made their way towards the hotel's theatre, where
she was performing that week. Her path led her to Tyson and his group.

Apparently, from what she could gather, and then read later, Tyson had just
held a news conference at the Hotel, which had a full-sized, world-class
sports arena in addition to the theatre and the casino. A new phony "Boxing
Association" had just formed, and despite Tyson's recent loss in the ring,
had declared him to be "Heavyweight Champion of the World". In the
unregulated domain of boxing, there are often multiple champions these days.

As Britney approached Tyson and his "gofers", she almost laughed at the
silver plated belt that he was wearing, a gift from the same Association
that had just bestowed the "Heavyweight Championship" on him. The smile
never left her face, but all of her past despising of the man who she was
now seeing for the first time in person grew into a silent rage.

But this time, there was a difference.

This time, as she glared at Tyson and sized him up, an epiphany came over
Britney.

She could take Tyson! She could challenge him to a fight, and win!

No longer was this the impetuous anger of a 7 or a 10 year-old child.
Britney was now a wealthy and famous superstar. Her dance routines kept her
in top athletic shape, while Tyson looked flabbier than she had expected.
She could tell from his slow reactions to people talking to him, and his own
recognition of her was proof that her reflexes were much faster than his. He
might have been bright once, but he had done a lot of stupid things, and had
taken too many punches to his head. So, Britney figured, she was probably
smarter than he was! And although the stats show Tyson to be 5'11", up
close, he looked to be no more than 5'9" the most! Maybe Mike's people had
exaggerated, or maybe gravity had caught up to him and he was starting to
shrink. Either way, Britney could see that in her high heels, she looked
taller than Tyson!

The bottom line, Britney felt, was that she was at the top of her game while
Tyson was a has-been who was almost washed up.

As Britney's group passed Tyson's on the way to the theatre, a plan
formulated in her mind. She kept that frozen smile on her face, but her
brain was working at overdrive. "Let them think that I'm just a blonde
airhead!" Britney thought to herself, as she often did. She knew better than
that. There are lots of teenaged blonde airheads, but she was Britney
Spears! SHE was the girl of her generation to have enormous success, as
opposed to the REAL airheads. And she was smart enough to keep her career
going, far longer than many other teen stars in the past. So she kept up her
"dumb blonde" image, while using it to help her to continue to climb the
ladder of show-business success.

And not only was Britney rich and famous, but she was smart enough to
realize how powerful she was. She was a hot commodity and knew it. She could
make demands of her promoters, including the hotel that she was working at
this week, and get whatever she wanted. She got her shows choreographed the
way SHE wanted them, sang the music that SHE wanted, both on stage and in
the studio, and in general could always get her way, because everyone
connected with Britney knew that their jobs could be eliminated at her
slightest whim.

All of this had given Britney supreme self-confidence. She was happy to
portray the image of a Louisiana bimbo, but her previous year, in which she
lived in and was based out of New York City, had made her anything but that.
New York, she realized, was the last piece of the puzzle. Living there gave
her the toughness, the brazenness and the savvy that complimented the
success and celebrity that she had already attained. She realized, when she
was looking at Tyson, that she wasn't the least bit afraid of him
physically.

She knew that she could beat him in a fight. She knew that she could play
with his mind. She knew that she could end his boxing career for good. And
she knew that if she played her cards right, she could make it happen. She
had the power to make it happen. She just had to figure out how to make this
come about.

The opportunity presented itself that evening.

Towards the end of her show, Britney noticed a group of people talking to
each other at a table. It was Tyson and his cronies! She had the spotlight
turned on the table.

"Ladies and gentlemen, apparently we have a special guest in the audience -
the former heavyweight champion of the world, Mike Tyson!"

The introduction took Tyson by surprise, and he unsteadily got up and waved
as he was greeted by a mixed chorus of cheers and boos. Britney motioned for
Tyson to approach the stage, and had the stage manager give him a
microphone. He stopped at the bottom of the stage, a spotlight still on him,
and another one on Britney.

"Well, Mikey," purred Britney, "You were once a champ, but now you're a
CHUMP!"

A chorus of "OOOOOOOOOOH" came from the crowd in response to Britney's
audacious comment. Tyson, who had been smiling, suddenly had hate in his
eyes and was unsteady on his feet.

"I-I'm still the champ!" he said in his trademark high-pitched voice.

Britney laughed. "You mean that bullshit organization that was just set up
so that they can make you champ?" More hoots and hollers came from the
crowd.

"I'll tell you what, Mikey," said Britney, now seizing the offensive. "Even
though that "championship belt" that I saw you with is a phony, I think that
it would look better on ME!"

The crowd started to murmur. Did Britney mean what she seemed to mean? What
she said next confirmed that she did.

"Mike Tyson, I challenge you to a fight for that 'championship' that you
claim that you had. A 10 round fight!"

Cheers went up from the crowd, which anxiously looked at Tyson for his
reaction.

"I-I'm not going to fight you, b-bitch!" stammered Tyson. "I beat up real
men!"

Britney looked at Tyson with a mocking smile, then said to the crowd, "I
think we're seeing a new meaning for the term 'Tyson's Chicken!'" she said
in her Louisiana drawl. Her joke might have been corny, but her fans loved
it, and cheered her on.

"And not only that, Mikey, but I year you're in a load of debt! You beat me,
and you'll have lots of money to pay off your debts, and plenty more!"

Tyson looked at Brittney. "H-How much money?" he asked, before realizing his
blunder.

Brittney had trapped Tyson! In just a few seconds she had challenged him and
baited him. Now, suddenly, it wasn't a question of IF there would be a
fight. Tyson's question to Britney hand answered that. Now all that needed
to be settled was the terms of the fight.

"Tell you what, Chump!" said Britney, maintaining the offensive. "Let's make
the stakes REAL. Winner take all. That means the entire purse, all the
pay-per-view money, and everything else.

As the crowd buzzed with excitement, Brittney continued. "But let's make it
more than that, Mikey. Whoever loses the fight belongs to the winner!"

Tyson looked puzzled. W-What do you mean? he asked, his already high voice
trembling.

Britney took a couple of steps towards the front of the stage and looked
down at Tyson, the spotlights still on both of them. "What I, mean, chump,
is that whoever loses has to give up their career, and their personal lives,
to the other. It means that if you win, I'll be your 'bitch', your 'ho',
your plaything to do anything you want to me. If you want, you can make me
put on shows, and you get all of the money.

"But if I win," continued Britney, you become MY 'bitch'! MY 'ho'! MY
plaything to do whatever I want to YOU! And even if I end your boxing
career, I'm sure that I can find other ways for you to make money for me!"
More cheers from the audience as Tyson nervously looked around, not knowing
what to do.

Maintaining the offensive, Britney continued. "It'll be SOOOOOOO much fun to
kick you around the ring for 10 rounds!"

Anger welled up in Tyson's throat. He wasn't used to anyone talking to him
like that, especially a young blonde girl like Britney. "W-What kicking?" he
asked. "I'm a boxer, not a kicker!"

Again, Britney had manipulated Tyson into saying exactly what she wanted him
to say. "Ok, Chump you're afraid of my kicking legs?" she asked. "Well,
this is what we'll do: "We'll box like in a regular boxing match. BUT- if
you start using your feet and legs, then I get to use mine, and we'll start
kickboxing!"

Tyson looked befuddled. Why would she want that? It seemed to favor him. All
he had to do was to keep himself from kicking Britney, and she wouldn't be
able to kick him. Not that he should be afraid of that, but in any case he
shrugged in silent agreement to the terms.

"Ok, then it's settled!" Britney declared. "The fight will take place in the
arena of this very hotel, 4 weeks from this Saturday night!"

The theatre exploded with cheers. There was nothing Tyson could do. He
couldn't back out, and besides, he wouldn't have any problem with this
cracker girl. She had a big mouth, but she was a singer and dancer, not a
fighter.

"My lawyers will work out all the arrangements with your lawyers and the
hotel!" announced Britney. See ya then, Chump!"

There was so much excitement and confusion that the show ended at that
point. No point in doing their final dance routine. What the audience had
just witnessed was a grand finale that nothing could top.

By the following morning, word had spread all over the world of Britney's
challenge, and Tyson's apparent acceptance. And by the end of the day, both
Britney Spears and Mike Tyson had made the deal with the hotel, agreeing to
all the terms that Britney had dictated from the stage the previous evening.
Britney knew that she had the power to call the shots. If the hotel, or the
satellite transmission people, or for that matter the City of Las Vegas or
the State of Nevada didn't accede to every demand she made, or piss her off
in any way, she could move her challenge of Tyson to another venue and other
vendors with no problem. So Britney got all the terms she wanted put into
the fight agreement.

Although the tabloid and other media had a field day with this story, few
gave Britney a chance of actually defeating Tyson in a fight. Sportscasters
and sports radio talk show hosts dismissed any chance of her actually
winning to be absurd. Las Vegas sportsbooks made Britney a 1000-1 underdog.
Britney had her people make a series of small bets anonymously, so it
wouldn't attract attention. She bet a total of $100,000 on herself. As if
Britney needed any more of an incentive to win, she now had one. At those
odds, in addition to her other winnings, Britney would take home an
additional one hundred million dollars!

Britney cancelled her regular entertainment tour and for the next month, she
trained in a secret location. She did weight training and took boxing and
kickboxing lessons, sparring with pros in both. The pros were sworn to
secrecy, which was made easier by the large amounts of cash given to them to
remain silent - and also by the embarrassment it would have caused them to
talk about it. By the end of the month, Britney, the ultimate consummate
professional in ways that she never had gotten much credit for, had done
significant damage to the pros with which she had trained.

In addition to sparring with live opponents, Britney commissioned a
life-sized dummy of Tyson! She had it made to the height of 5'9", because
having seen him up close, she knew that this had to be closer to his alleged
height of 2 inches taller. Britney had the "Tyson Doll" dressed the way he
would be at the match, with his sneakers, boxing gloves, and trunks covering
his athletic supporter and protective cup.

Britney made sure that the dummy was made with dense but semi-soft material,
so that she could practice boxing on it in a more realistic manner. She
especially enjoyed slamming the tattoo! But an epiphany came to her when she
started practicing her kicking. She had knocked the dummy onto its stomach,
and was practicing kicking his ass, when she realized - if she was able to
get him in this position while in the ring, she would be able to get to his
balls, and the protective cup wouldn't be able to protect him!

Tyson, for his part, did some sparring, but when he was spotted over the
following month he was doing more partying than anything else. He didn't
look worried, and in fact he wasn't too worried - she might be a
smart-mouthed bitch, but he was a fighter, and Britney was a singer. The
only thing that bothered him a little was Britney's apparent supreme
self-confidence, but he couldn't see how she could stand a realistic chance
with her. And he didn't practice kickboxing at all, since he was in total
control of that - Britney couldn't kick unless Tyson kicked first, and Tyson
simply would not kick, so he felt that there was nothing to worry about.

Despite the fact that few doubted the outcome, the Pay-Per-View orders
shattered all previous records. The arena was sold out minutes after the
tickets went on sale. Whoever won this fight would be guaranteed at least
half a billion dollars!

Excitement built with increasing intensity as the final days to the fight
approached. Most of the talk in the press centered around how foolish
Britney was to have challenged Tyson, and how quickly it would take Tyson to
beat her. A weekly tabloid had the headline "Britney's Brainless Blunder"
splashed over covers in supermarkets everywhere. No one dared predict that
Britney would last even until the end of the first round. Legal experts were
interviewed on 24 hour news channels, confirming incredulously that the
terms that Britney had insisted on were binding on the loser.

On the day before the fight, the "weigh-in" was held. This was the first
time that Britney and Tyson had seen each other since the confrontation in
the theatre. Britney wore a white terry cloth robe, belted in the front and
offering a slight peek of her firm breasts, which were otherwise covered by
the robe down to her solid calves. The firm, athletic calves were the only
exposed part of her body, before they were tucked into a pair of white
socks, encased in white leather sneakers.

Tyson, for his part, was wearing only a pair of boxing trunks, with a roll
of flab drooping over the top of them, as well as his sneakers and socks. He
looked hung-over from partying the night before. He seemed confident, and
sneered as he and Britney made their way to the podium from different
directions, each with their retinue, as well as a full compliment of
security guards between the two camps.

Britney and Tyson approached the microphone, along with the promoters and
the "commissioner" of the phony new boxing association. Tyson tried to stare
Britney down, but she kept her stare locked on his. Few people saw it, but
Britney noticed a slight flinch of nervousness in Tyson's eyes Britney
quickly stuck her tongue out at Tyson, and returned to her smiling stare.
This infuriated Tyson, and broke his stare. Britney chuckled She was already
winning the fight!.

"We will now have the weigh in!" announced the commissioner. "First, the
challenger, Britney Spears!"

Apparently there were fans mixed in with the media, since youthful cheers
and screams erupted from the room as Britney strode towards the scale. She
smiled brilliantly and bowed, allowing an extremely brief peek at her
cleavage. She stepped on to the scale, still wearing her robe.

The commissioner conferred with other judges. They looked confused, and
asked Britney to remove her robe. Britney refused. And they knew that
Britney was the hottest commodity, and that she was calling all the shots.
After further conferring, another scale was brought in the room.

"After double-checking with a second scale," the commissioner announced with
puzzlement, "It appears the scales are both correct and Britney Spears
weighs in at 150 pounds!"

The media and others gasped. Britney is generally listed at 125 lbs, and
this was a significant change! Did she so something stupid like gain weight?
It didn't look it, but then again Britney's white robe covered all of her
body below her neck until the middle of her calves, so people weren't able
to tell for sure. But she certainly didn't look unfit!

It was Tyson's turn to get weighed. "The champion," the announcer intoned,
"Iron Mike Tyson, weighs in at 245 pounds!

The knowledgeable sports fans gasped. They realized that Tyson would be
fighting at one of the heaviest weights of his career. Tyson stepped back to
the podium.

"IRON MIKE? HA!" Brittney suddenly exclaimed. She reached over and pinched
Tyson's paunch, rolling it in her fingers for a second before letting go.
"It feels more to me that he should be called MARSHMALLOW MIKE!"

"OOOOOOOOHHHH!" gasped the crowd at Britney's brazen comment. Tyson was
trying to exert self-control, but his face contorted in anger.

As the crowd quieted down, Britney pointed at the front of Tyson's shorts.
"And I bet if you look under there, you would probably call him "MINI MIKE!"

"OOOOOOOOHHHH"! went the crowd again, continuing to be what seemed to be
calculated provocation.

And Tyson was indeed provoked. Britney's last taunt caused him to lunge at
her, but six burly security guards quickly blocked him, and calmed him down
"That silly tattoo on your eye will be a fun target!" was Britney's parting
shot.

Britney led her retinue from the podium, effectively ending the event. As
she made her way out of the room, she heard one network sports talking-head
tell another "That Spears chick shouldn't have pissed of Tyson like that,
before the fight even starts!" His colleague laughed in agreement.

Britney wore her affected, airhead smile, but inside she was laughing at
those two idiots. They didn't realize how clever she was - and that the
fight had ALREADY started. It started the night of the challenge that
Britney made on stage at the theatre. It had continued for weeks.

Britney had been fucking with Tyson's mind from the very beginning. But at
the weigh-in, she decided, as a fellow Louisianan of hers would say, "turn
it up a notch". With little more than 24 hours until the fight, Britney and
her inexplicable brash confidence was psyching him out! "Yes," Britney told
herself underneath the frozen smile, "I'm already winning!"

Over a billion people were watching as Britney entered the arena and walked
towards the ring. She was wearing a pink robe with "Britney Spears"
emblazoned in black. Around her neck was a pink feather boa. She was wearing
hot pink boxing gloves. Her long blonde hair bounced as she danced towards
the ring and climbed in. Lots of cheering female screams, and male ones,
too, accompanied her arrival. There were more female "teeny bopper" types
than usually attend boxing matches.

Britney's assistants removed the feather boa, which was about eight feet
long. When they stretched it taut, they saw that, in darker pink lettering,
were the words "PROPERTY OF BRITNEY SPEARS".

Next, the assistants removed Britney's pink robe. To say that the crowd
gasped is an understatement, as they looked at Britney in her hot pink
leather bikini bottom and sports bra, which matched the color of her boxing
gloves.

Now it was obvious why Britney now weighed 25 pounds more than before. It
was muscle, not an ounce of fat. Not muscle-bound, but with clearly more
muscular arms legs, and even firmer torso than before. She had always made
sure to remain athletic, but she was serious about her new exercise and
nutritional regimen, and it had worked. Britney was just as shapely and
curvy as always. Just more solid than ever.


The next thing that the crowd noticed was Britney's footwear. She was
wearing high-heeled sneakers! They were made of the same hot pink leather as
the rest of her ensemble. They had thick soles, but narrow, tapering, hard
rubber heels.

Britney shadow-boxed for a few seconds, the pink gloves becoming as much of
a blur as were the tassels of her socks. Britney had danced for years in
high heels that were much less athletically-friendly than these, and her
rendition of the "Ali Shuffle" impressed "The Greatest" himself, who
happened to be in the audience. Britney danced around the ring, bouncing
gracefully on her heels as effortlessly as if she was wearing regular
athletic shoes. And no one was going to question whether the sneakers were
legal for the ring, because Britney, as previously noted, was at the top of
her showbiz game and therefore called all the shots.

Tyson walked in towards his corner of the ring to a smattering of applause,
embarrassing for someone who once ruled the boxing world but now was
fighting a girl who had been in kindergarten when he first won his
heavyweight championship. Most of the crowd felt that despite his fall from
the top, and despite the secret wishes of many that Britney would win, Tyson
would nevertheless be the victor, and those that bet put their money heavily
on him.

As Tyson climbed into his corner of the ring, Britney smiled towards him in
disdain. His assistants removed his robe. Britney's smile widened when she
saw the metal "title belt" on him and she laughed out loud when the belt was
removed, and the newly freed fat jiggled around his torso.

The referee climbed into the ring, and Britney called him over. He seemed
puzzled at what she was saying to him. He said a few words, and Britney
could be seen responding angrily, with a threatening look in her eyes.
Whatever was being said, the referee was not stupid. He shrugged an "ok" to
Britney, who beamed with delight at the outcome of what had just happened.

The referee went to an official at ringside. The official was surprised at
the request, but went into the locker room to get a tape-measure, returned,
and gave it to the referee.

The microphone was lowered to the center of the ring. The lights were dimmed
in the crowd, with the lights shining on the ring. The crowd got quiet, with
some murmuring as the referee did something they had never seen before. He
was measuring Britney's height, from head to the sole of her spiked-heel
sneakers!

The referee then went to the center of the ring and spoke into the
microphone. "LADIES AND GENTLEMAN," he announced, "TO MY LEFT, WEIGHING 150
POUNDS, 5 FEET, 9 INCHES, WEARING A PINK BIKINI AND SPORTS BRA, FROM
KENTWOOD, LOUISIANA, THE CHALLENGER, BRITNEY SPEARS!"

Britney jumped out of her corner, danced around the ring, and then let out a
flurry of phantom punches at Tyson. She then stuck out her foot, the sole
and the heel pointing at her opponent before she stepped into the center of
the ring and bowed to the audience several times, turning to the different
directions of the arena, blowing kisses to the crowd through her boxing
gloves. The people went wild!

Britney nodded at the referee, who nodded back and walked towards Tyson.
Suddenly, he knew what was happening and jumped up, trying to resist. But
some of his more level-headed handlers restrained him, and the ref got a
measurement.

"TO MY RIGHT", proclaimed the announcer, "WEIGHING 245 POUNDS AND STANDING
FIVE FEET, EIGHT AND A HALF INCHES IN SNEAKERED FEET, WEARING BLUE TRUNKS,
FROM BROOKLYN, NEW YORK, THE ASSOCIATION CHAMPION, MIKE TYSON!"

Tyson was too angry to even come out of his corner and showboat a little.
His cover had been blown. All of his career he had been billed as being
5"11". But there had always been people who had met Tyson and knew their own
height, and claimed that Tyson couldn't possibly be that tall. Now, Britney
had proven this to the world. Also, Tyson was angry. He always demanded
being introduced as "Iron Mike", but Britney made sure that they left out
the "Iron" this time. And of course, this thought reminded Tyson of
Britney's "Marshmallow Mike" taunt at the weigh-in. Before the first bell
rang, Britney had already cluttered Tyson's head with confusion and anger.

Smarter than anyone has even given her credit for, Britney congratulated
herself on her pre-fight mindfucking of her opponent, but she wanted to see
one more ingredient in his eyes that she hadn't seen yet - fear. She had
seen uncertainty in his eyes at moments, but never genuine fear. She knew
that to achieve that she would have to give him a decisive beating, and make
it hurt enough, and humiliating enough, for him to have so much fear of her
that he would rather give up than fight him. And she knew that though she
had won the preliminary psychological wars, what she needed now was to give
him a decisive physical beating.

Aides in both corners put mouthpieces into their fighters' mouths, and then
the referee called the fighters to the center of the ring. As he read the
instructions to them, Tyson again glared at Britney. Britney tried to get as
close to Tyson as she matched his glare - embarrassing Tyson even more,
since Britney was stood taller than him in her sneakered heels.

The fighters went back into their corners, and the bell rang, starting round
one. Britney did not tie her hair back in a ponytail, like some thought she
would. Instead, she let her long, thick blonde hair flow freely behind her,
as she does when performing on stage.

As Tyson came towards her, Britney spat out her mouthpiece and flashed a
bright, white smile at Tyson, sending the message that she wasn't worried
about getting injured, or losing any of her teeth. In anger, Tyson spat out
his own mouthpiece and moved towards Britney.

Britney took a step towards Tyson and then stopped, putting her hands on her
hips and shaking them sexily. Tyson lunged at Britney, throwing a right
hook at her smiling face. But Britney was easily able to sway out of the
reach of Tyson's swinging arm. Tyson spun around after missing Britney, who
stood still, laughing at her opponent.

Furious, Tyson pursued Britney around the ring, but she spun away from his
attempted punches. His next two hook attempts were futile as she would
triple-axle her body away from his fists. Tyson looked bad, missing clumsily
as Britney effortlessly danced away from him, her long blonde hair bouncing
around her arms and shoulders. Even a boxing expert was now able to see how
out of shape Tyson was.

Tyson had noticed Britney's moves in reaction to his punches, and figured
that it was her strategy to try to wear him out. He decided to trick her by
faking a left hook slightly to the right side of Britney's body, but
actually lunging further to his right, where he figured that Britney would
be after spinning her body to that location.

Unfortunately for Tyson, Britney is not as predictable or as dumb as he
thought. She had no intention of spinning away for a third time, but figured
that Tyson would think that she would. As Tyson lunged, Britney stepped
towards him and drove a left uppercut that landed just below his chin. His
head snapped up and then back down, where it was met by Britney's right jab,
landing on his forehead, right on part of the tattoo that partially
surrounds Tyson's left eye.

The crowd gasped at Britney's sudden, quick attack. Tyson was stunned, never
expecting the audacious girl to attack him so boldly. For most of his life,
he never had to worry about anyone punching him back, especially a girl
fifteen years his junior. He took a couple of steps back before his head
cleared and he realized how foolish he must look, backing away from Britney
Spears, of all people, in the first round!

Tyson was confused at how to pursue her. He dared not leave himself open the
way he had with his earlier hooks, and try to hurt her with his once
legendary jabs. He didn't realize it, of course, but Britney had no
intention of hitting Tyson again in the first round. At first she continued
to dance and spin away from his jabs. But by the end of the round, she was
standing right in front of him, smiling mockingly, clearly unafraid, and
easily block his blows with her own pink boxing gloves!

The crowd buzzed between rounds. The hotel had put up four huge plasma
screens in the arena, and they now showed Britney and Tyson, split-screen,
in each of their corners. Britney hadn't worked up a sweat. Tyson looked
tired - and worried. Tyson's trainer told him not to think of Britney as a
bratty girl, but as an ordinary opponent.

Just before the start of the 2nd round, Britney spoke to one of her corner
people, who signaled to the control booth of the arena, and suddenly the
stadium was filled with the loud, pulsing beat of Britney Spears music.

The bell rang, and Britney danced to the music, moving to the center of the
ring and motioning for Tyson to meet her there. Tyson was a bit disoriented
by the music, but started moving towards her, at first with a little
confidence. But again, Britney was able to deflect his blows with her fists.

Suddenly, Britney unleashed a series of blows to Tyson's face. A left to the
nose, a right to the eye, a left underneath the eye, a right to the side of
his face. Tyson tried to fight back, but Britney, feigning annoyance, batted
his gloved hands away with hers, and continued for another five seconds of
rapid-fire punches. She then stood proudly, inches away from Tyson. When he
looked up, she stuck her tongue out of her smiling face! This caused more
rage in Tyson, but Britney, now in the ring with him for him for almost two
rounds, could see his moves coming from a mile away, and she swatted his
punches as if they were bothersome flies.

The bell rang to end the second round. Tyson still hadn't landed a clean
punch. Britney's onslaught lasted only 15 seconds of the 3 minute round, but
it seemed much longer than that to the fans, not only because Britney threw
so many punches in that time, none of which Tyson could stop, but because
Tyson was as ineffective on offense as he was on defense.

Britney's smile flashed brilliantly as she watched the scene in Tyson's
corner. His trainer and other corner men seemed to be arguing among
themselves as to how to handle Britney, who they never imagined would be a
problem for "Iron Mike". Tyson looked stunned, and the disagreement among
his handlers just confused him even more. Britney decided to add to Tyson's
confusion in the 3rd round.

As the third round started, a different Britney song came on (which one
isn't really important. Her vocals weren't being played anyhow, it was just
the beat and the rhythm to which she usually dances). Britney started
dancing around the ring, actually leaping around, landing on her high-heeled
sneakers and bouncing up, covering nearly half the ring with each jump.
Tyson was predictably confused, and Britney took advantage of this with a
series of punch combinations. They were usually four to twelve punches at a
time, after which she would sexily dance away for a few seconds, then
leaping back at Tyson for another punishing combination.

Britney noticed, as she continued to easily block Tyson's attempted punches,
that his blows were not as hard as they had been earlier in the fight. And
then she saw him wince after a punch! Though she wasn't a trained boxer, she
could tell that his forearms were weakening. So she decided to abruptly
stand in place, her arms and legs in a classic boxing stance, and wait for
Tyson to attack.

[jiminy]

But this time, instead of merely deflecting or Blocking Tyson's blows with
her fists, Britney met his punches head-on with punches of her own to
Tyson's gloves! She hit his hands back harder, and could sense the pain
shooting up through his arms. Britney took advantage of this by starting to
concentrate on his upper arms. As his arms moved slower than before, Britney
was able to duck and start punching the inside of his arms. By the end of
the round, Tyson could barely lift them.

In her corner, Britney whispered to an aide, who signaled to the control
booth. The rhythm of Britney's music boomed louder as she bounded off of her
bench at the start of the 4th round.

Tyson moved slowly towards her, but without hesitation, Britney rushed right
at him and unleashed a vicious attack all over his face arms and torso.
Tyson backed away, but Britney pursued him relentlessly. Both of his eyes
were swelling up, as was much of the area that was covered by the tattoo
around his left eye. Brittney had made good on her promise to use the tattoo
as a target!

Tyson shook his head, trying to clear it, and came back at Britney. But he
was met with another combination of blinding smashes to his body, arms and
head. She was now punching him to the beat of her music, much to the delight
of her screaming fans. Britney opened a cut on Tyson's mouth, and more blood
was dripping.

Despite the onslaught, Tyson managed to remain on his feet, though by the
end of the fourth round Britney had Tyson against the ropes and was savagely
attacking him, while he was not able to put up any kind of a defense.
Britney could see the look of impending doom in Tyson's increasingly swollen
eyes. In her childhood fantasies, when she imagined beating up Mike Tyson,
there was something specific that she always imagined. Now, she could see
that in his weakened and confused physical and emotional state, she could
fulfill that fantasy.

Between rounds, Britney said something to one of her aides. While her white
smile beamed wider than ever, the aid tied one end of a pink ribbon to her
left wrist, and the other end to the rear clasp of her sports bra. The
crowd's screaming was deafening as they realized Britney's intention. She
was - literally - going to fight Tyson with one hand behind her back!

This infuriated Tyson, and this is what probably gave him enough strength to
make it to the center of the ring. "Remember what Muhammad Ali once said,
Mikey?" she asked Tyson in a chiding voice. "When you fight a fat man, hit
him in the belly!"

And for the first minute of the 5th round, that's exactly what Britney did
to Tyson's tummy. She had told him what she was going to do, she had only
one hand with which to do it, but despite those apparent disadvantages,
Tyson, with both of his arms free, could do nothing to stop Britney from
repeatedly ramming her right fist into various parts of his stomach. She
started concentrating on his solar plexus, and didn't stop until she heard
repeated grunting from Tyson in reaction to her punches.

Tyson weakly tried to dive at her with both arms flailing away, and this is
when Britney started slamming her right fist, her only free one into other
parts of the body, mixing the blows to the belly with ones to his arms, head
and torso. Tyson slumped against the ropes, and Britney, with incredible
ease and power, batted Tyson's face from one side to the other, first a
forehand punch, then a backhand, over and over again, and Tyson could do
nothing to stop her. He struggled to put his arms up to protect his face,
allowing Britney to finish the round with a blow to his unprotected belly,
as well as a final powerful blow to each of his fists, again sending waves
of pain up his arm from his wrists to his shoulders.

The crowd, and the worldwide audience, wondered if Britney would continue to
fight Tyson with one arm behind her back. in the next round. At first, when
they saw her aide step up behind her back, they thought that he was going to
cut her wrist free from the ribbon. But instead, he tied another ribbon -
this one to her right wrist, and brought it up behind her, tying it next to
the other knot bound to her bra.

The crowd let out a collective gasp, then the Britney fans, Teeny-boppers
and all, screamed as they realized Britney's intent was now to fight Tyson
with BOTH hands tied behind her back!

Britney whispered to her trainer, who shrugged, but passed along the
instruction to one of her aides who took out a cigarette, put it in
Britney's mouth, and lit it! (another habit she had developed in New York.)
Britney casually puffed on the cigarette, flicking the ashes off by snapping
her tongue against the filter.

Tyson couldn't believe what he was seeing, but he didn't have much time to
think before the bell sounded, starting the 6th round.


The music that now boomed throughout the arena was the introduction to Pat
Benatar's "Hit Me With Your Best Shot". Britney had been thinking of
performing and recording this song (maybe she has done so by the time that
you are reading this), and she couldn't resist the symbolism of the title of
the song in the context of a boxing ring. Besides, she knew that Tyson knew
that she was using the song to further taunt him. The mindfucking that she
had begun with her challenge to Tyson did not stop with the fight itself.
Britney knew the effect that it would have on him.

With her cigarette dangling from her lips, Britney came to the center of the
ring and stopped. Although her wrists were tied behind her, they were done
so in a way that caused her elbows to point out from her sides, as though
her hands were on her hips, giving her a look of incongruous brashness,
considering that her arms were imprisoned. She started doing some stationary
dancing - the kind she does on stage when she's not prancing around. She
just stands, usually with dancers all around her, and simply moves first her
right hip forward, then the left, not moving from her standing position
while letting her hips do most of the work.

The anger that welled up inside Tyson gave him what little remaining
strength he had. He labored over to Britney and swung his fist at her face,
trying to knock the cigarette out of her mouth. Britney easily leaned away
from the punch, took a long drag and blew a stream of smoke into Tyson's
eyes.

Tyson could barely see through his swollen eyes, but now he decided to go
after Britney's seemingly unprotected body. He swung his right arm, as hard
as he was now able, into Britney's abdomen, as Britney had done to him in
the previous round. But while Britney's punches to Tyson's flabby belly
weakened and hurt him, Tyson's punches bounced feebly off of Britney's firm,
hard abs. Britney responded by blowing a smoke ring, acting bored. The crowd
ate it up. They were now almost entirely for Britney, and this got Tyson
pissed. He threw both right and lefts into Britney's mid-section, and her
only response was to blow another smoke ring for each punch that Tyson
threw.

Then, Tyson decided, since the rules did not prohibit hitting Britney in the
breasts, that they would be his next target. His punches weakly bounced off
of her sports bra. She giggled, and then, making sure that it was loud
enough for the microphone to pick up, chirped "OOOOHHH THAT TICKLES!", which
generated loud hoots from the audience. This caused Tyson more despair, and
made his attack even more ineffective.

After six punches, it was clear that Tyson was hurting himself, not Britney.
His punch attempts became even more ponderous, and the crowd shouted their
approval as his heavy arms could no longer stand the force of gravity, and
despite his continued attempts to hit Britney's huge orbs, his arms fell
weakly to his side.

All of a sudden, Tyson, in obvious desperation, tried to head-butt Britney,
attempting to slam his forehead into her eye. But Britney could sense what
he he was trying to do, and simply bent her upper body, including her
tied-up arms, to her left. In this position, Britney's bent right elbow was
positioned upright, and Tyson's head slammed into it. Instead of Tyson
giving Britney a black eye, he instead slammed a welt under his own eye into
her elbow, causing the welt to explode with blood.

Tyson's head sagged, right into Britney's range. In a quick move, she
straightened upright while pivoting to her right, causing her left shoulder
to smash into Tyson's lower right jaw. This time, Tyson couldn't maintain
his balance, and crumpled to the floor.

There were about two palpable seconds of total silence as the crowed
experienced disbelief over what they had just seen. Then they roared in
surprise and, in the case of most of them, in delight. Britney Spears had
knocked down Mike Tyson with both of her hands tied behind her back!

Britney stood proudly, cigarette still in her mouth, and puffed casually as
the referee started the count. Tyson crawled to his corner and by the count
of six had climbed up the rope, off of the floor. Britney strolled over to
Tyson's corner. As he was heaving for air, Britney took one long last drag
of her cigarette, and then dropped it from her lips into Tyson's open,
gasping mouth!

Tyson gagged in pain and surprise, and Britney's cigarette butt burned the
inside of his mouth before he managed to spit it out. Britney turned away
from Tyson and blew a long stream of smoke into the air. The noise in the
arena was so loud that it felt as if the building was shaking.

Tyson was bracing himself against the ropes and the post in his corner.
Britney stood with his back to him, just a couple of feet away. The former
champ was seething. Not only was the blonde brat beating him up, she was
showing him up too, in the most humiliating way.

But now, Tyson saw his chance. Britney, hands still tied behind her back of
course, was soaking in the cheers of the crowd, proud of her achievements so
far. To Tyson, it looked as if she wasn't even paying attention to him. He
knew that if he used the ropes in his corner for support, he could bring his
foot forward hard, right in her back, and it would flatten her. Tyson
gathered up his strength one more time. He was going to show this girl not
to mess with Iron Mike!

Tyson coiled back and struck his leg out at Britney's back.

Although she had been looking straight ahead of her and Tyson was behind
her, Britney was watching all of Tyson's moves on one of the large screens
in the arena. She knew what he was going to do. In fact this was exactly
what Britney had been waiting for. And she had successfully coaxed Tyson
into doing it.

Britney bent slightly to her right, so instead of Tyson's foot slamming into
her back, went through the triangle formed by Britney's bent elbow and her
back. Quickly, she snapped her elbow back, her strong forearm trapping
Tyson's foot!

Tyson realized what had happened, but it was too late. He had been tricked
into kicking Britney! He was caught, and it hadn't even worked! Tyson knew
that in order to keep this fight strictly a boxing match, and not have to
worry about Britney's kicks, all he had to do was refrain from kicking her
first. But Britney had outsmarted him, and goaded him into the kicks! And
now his foot was trapped between Britney's forearm and her torso.

In this position, Britney strolled towards the center of the ring, dragging
Tyson with him. He tried in vain to grab on to the ropes, but Britney had
his ankle secured tightly against her body, and he slumped down. It seemed
effortless for Britney to move and carry all of Tyson's extra weight. She
was, literally, "wiping the floor" with him! One would think that having her
hands tied behind her would restrict her movements, and it did, but it also
provided her support so that she could drag him along. Britney motioned for
the referee to come to her.

As the referee approached Britney, the bell rang, ending the round. But
Britney still held on to Tyson, who was dangling at an awkward angle, nearly
upside down. Britney said a few words into the referee's ear. He looked down
at Tyson, then at Tyson's foot as it was being held by Britney, looked at
Britney again, and nodded. He briefly conferred with the judges, and they
also nodded. He then motioned for the microphone to be lowered so that he
could make an announcement.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, BY THE RULES GOVERNING THIS FIGHT, AND BY VIRTUE OF
THE OBVIOUS FACT THAT MR. TYSON HAS ATTEMPTED TO KICK MS. SPEARS, I HEREBY
DECLARE THIS FIGHT TO NOW BE A KICKBOXING MATCH!"

Britney smilingly nodded her approval at the referee's words. She moved her
elbow, relaxing her grip on Tyson's leg, causing him to crash to the floor
with a thud. Britney Shook her long hair as she cockily strode back to her
corner. She had an athletic sheen of perspiration on her by this point,
which only accentuated her sensuality, but it could be accurately said that
she was barely working up a sweat. Tyson crawled to his corner and pulled
himself up to his feet.

In most cases, a fight in which one of the boxers had been beaten so badly
would have been stopped by this point. But the referee and the judges knew
what side their bread was buttered on. And they didn't even want to think of
the price that they would have to pay for doing anything that displeased
Britney. At a whim, Britney could do harm to their city and state, not to
mention their own personal careers. And Britney clearly wanted the fight to
continue, and to continue as a kickboxing match, so it did.

Britney fought the 7th round, the first kickboxing round, as it turned out,
with her arms still tied behind her. The round began with Britney dancing,
her legs swinging wildly, around the ring. Tyson struggled to get up from
his chair. As he finally got to his feet, Britney, now back in her corner,
ran across the ring at Tyson, leaping in the air from the middle of the
ring, flying at blinding speed, feet first, towards her opponent. Nearly
simultaneously, her left foot banged his chest, and her right foot connected
with his chin, snapping his head back. Britney quickly bent her legs,
landing cleanly in a crouch right in front of where Tyson was crumpling to
the floor.

Britney stood and smiled down at Tyson as he struggled to pick himself up.
But as soon as he did, Britney swept her leg around, banging into Tyson's
lower calves, sending him back to the ground. The arena was rocking as
loudly as ever.

Three more times, Britney let Tyson get to his feet, only to swing one of
her legs around, effortlessly, to put him back on the ground. Getting bored
with this, Britney wanted to get on with the next part of the public
punishment that she had dreamed of for years, way before the thought of an
opportunity was a realistic notion. She kicked his barely conscious body to
his stomach.

Britney stepped between Tyson's prone legs, nudging them apart as she bent
down to whisper in his ear: "This one is for the way you treated your first
wife Robin!" She then straightened up, took a few steps back, and with a
running start kicked Tyson just above the rear of his protective cup, the
tip of her sneaker banging into the top of the underside of Tyson's
testicles. Tyson screamed in agony, his body jumping forward about a foot,
more out of reflex than strength.

This was the result of the epiphany that Britney had the first time she
practiced with the "Tyson Dummy" lying in the same position that the real
Tyson was in now. It was that although wearing a protective cup will protect
a man's groin from frontal attacks the area,it would still leave him
vulnerable from the rear. And she had heard that the underside of a man's
balls were even more sensitive back there than from in the front! The only
obstacle to Britney was that he had to kick first in order make it legal for
her to kick as well. But of course, that obstacle was now removed.

Britney again stepped between Tyson's legs. They were still flailing, so
Britney pivoted on her heels and placed the soles of her sneakers on his
calves, pinning them to the ground as she bent over to whisper to him again.
"And this is for the girl that you raped and went to jail for!"

The State of Indiana had incarcerated Tyson for this crime years before, but
Britney now imposed her own punishment on him for that horrible act. Her
next leaping kick landed in precisely the same spot as the first. Tyson
again involuntarily moved forward as he groaned in pain.

"And this," Tyson heard Britney say through the fog in his brain, "is for
the woman that you beat up when you were a kid, and robbed of her money when
pretending to help her with her groceries! I read that was why you were sent
to jail the first time!" A third, excruciating kick followed. Tyson moved
only a few inches this time, though the pain was worse than ever.

"And now", cooed Britney into Tyson's ear, "I'm going to punish you for all
those other women that I'm sure that you have abused in the past but that
has never become public knowledge!"

Britney moved further back this time than with her previous kicks. Instead
of kicking him she flew through the air, landing with the long, narrow, hard
rubber stiletto heels landing in the exact same spot as the kicks. The
scream that Tyson let out could only be described as "bloodcurdling".

The thought went through the minds of the referee and the judges that
Britney was breaking what are generally accepted rules of kickboxing. But
all of them knew the reality: "Britney rules, therefore Britney MAKES the
rules". Therefore, none of them took any action to stop Britney from bashing
Tyson's balls, and no one would take any action afterwards.

There was still 30 seconds left in the round, but Britney simply strolled
over to her corner and leant casually on the ropes, watching as Tyson rolled
on the floor in agony, barely, but nonetheless, conscious. He made his way
back to his corner as Britney stretched her legs, rocking back and forth as
she watched Tyson struggle with a proud smile on her face. She made no more
attempts to attack him. There was no question that she had clearly won the
round!

With her arms still trussed behind her, Britney got up to fight the 8th
round. But Tyson's doctor was still hovering over him. She strode
purposefully over to the doctor. "BACK OFF, DOC"! she snapped. The doctor,
who like many of his profession had come to consider himself as powerful as
the deity, wasn't accustomed to being talked to like that. He was especially
taken aback by this blonde youngster . "I'm not gonna kill him or anything,
Doc." Britney said, a little conciliatory but still firm. Remember, I'm
gonna OWN him after this fight. It's in the contract. It's what - what were
those big words my lawyer used? Oh yeah - an 'irrevocable, ironclad binding
provision of compulsory indentured servitude'. I want to have fun with him,
and make some money off of him too, for a long time to come, so I'm not
going to hurt him so badly that he won't be able to function for my pleasure
and profit." The doctor shrugged his shoulders. He, too, knew that he was
powerless to stop Britney from doing whatever she wanted.

Tyson was still sitting on his bench, with Britney facing him. Planting her
right leg firmly on the canvass floor, she slowly put the toe of her left
sneaker under his chin, and firmly pushed it upwards. In order for the rest
of his body to follow the head, Tyson struggled mightily to hoist himself up
to his feet.

Once Tyson was standing up, Britney motioned for the volume of the music,
with the heavy rythmatic beat. Keeping in time with the music, Britney
anchored the stiletto heel of her left sneaker at the top of Tyson's breast
bone, and moving it from side to side, softly batted Tyson's face, first in
one direction and then the other, with both sides of her foot. These weren't
hard kicks, and though they hurt Tyson because they banged into his earlier
wounds, they weren't particularly hard kicks, and weren't that physically
painful. But the humiliation that she was dishing out on him was devastating
to his ego, pride and masculinity. She was "bitch-slapping" him with her
foot, with her hands tied behind her, in front of the entire world! Britney
continued the slapping until the end of the round. When the bell rang,
Britney abruptly stopped, spun around on her right heel and skipped back to
her corner, leaving Tyson to slump down. His corner people barely had time
to put his stool down under him, unless he would have fallen to the floor.

At the start of the 9th round, Britney, her hands yet still tied behind her,
skipped back to Tyson, smiling at him as she stood a foot in front of him,
waiting for him to stand up. She had deprived him of nearly all of his
strength, but his humiliation gave him enough energy to get back on his
feet.

Britney lifted her right leg up. She placed her foot on Tyson's neck, the
long heel of her sneaker against the left side of Tyson's neck, and the sole
of the shoe curving around the other side of his neck, holding him securely
in place despite his trembling legs.

Without warning, and while keeping her hold on Tyson's throat with her right
foot, Britney whipped her left foot into Tyson's gut. Her legs were so
athletic that she was able to easily land back on her left foot while
maintaining her hold with her right. As the audience roared, the beaming
Britney, even from her position, was able to bow gracefully. Then, she
flashed her left foot back up, this time smashing Tyson's already battered
nose.

In a rapid move that would be the envy of any athlete, Britney brought her
right leg down, and her left leg up, taking the right foot's place in
holding Tyson in place. She then repeatedly battered the entirety of Tyson's
swollen tattoo area around his left eye. Everyone watching was amazed that
she could maintain such balance and control and be so accurate with her
kicks, and to be able to repeatedly land so easily back on the floor after
each one of them.

Britney knew that she had now completely depleted Tyson of spirit as well as
strength. If she released her hold on his neck now, he would fall right down
and not be able to get up. She would win by a knockout. But it was too early
for Britney's taste. It was only the 9th round of a 10 round fight, and
Britney wanted to prolong her fun. Besides, she had plans for a Grand
Finale. So she continued to bang away at Tyson's tattoo until the round
ended.

The split screen that everyone was watching between rounds told the whole
story. On one side was a man with a battered, bloody, defeated head, his
eyes showing both defeat and embarrassment. On the other side of the screen
showed a supremely confident, woman, with a look of pride in her smile that
bordered on haughtiness. Unlike Tyson, Britney didn't have a scratch or a
cut or a bump on her. Every strand of her lush, long blonde hair was
bouncing perfectly in place.

This time, after fighting one round with one hand behind her back and the
next four with both hands secured, she told her trainer to cut her bonds
loose. To the delight of the crowd, Britney spent the rest of the time
before the 10th round shadow boxing with her now freed hands. For the first
time in the fight, she would be using both her arms AND her legs!

Tyson didn't want to come out for round ten, but when the bell rang, his
corner people pushed him out into the ring. They had their own careers to
think about. They were working for Tyson, and knew that they were on the
losing side. If Britney wanted to ruin their careers and make sure that they
never worked in boxing again, they knew that she had the power to do it. So
now, even Tyson's own people attempted to curry favor with Britney!

Britney used her newly liberated fists to pound Tyson backwards, until he
was back up against the ropes. She draped each of his arms over the top of
the rope so that he wouldn't fall to the canvass until she was good and
ready for him to do so.

After taking a few steps back, Britney ran up to where Tyson was hanging,
and delivered a blinding fusillade of punches and kicks, all over his body,
from his head to his shins. The onslaught was so fast and powerful that it
can only be compared to the end of a fireworks show, when instead of sending
up a few missiles at a time, they shoot the works, causing explosions and
colorful lights in the sky. Indeed, Britney was "shooting the works" on
Tyson's body.

Looking at the clock, Britney saw that she had less than two minutes left in
the final round. She banged her fist into Tyson's left arm, and kicked his
right, dislodging them from the ropes. She stepped to the side and stuck her
leg out, controlling his fall, making sure that he ended up on his hands and
knees.

As the crowd gasped, Britney bent down, whispered something into Tyson's
ear, and then sat on his back. She kicked his flanks with the backs of her
shoes, and he started moving, on her hands and knees, all around the ring,
with Britney astride him, providing encouraging kicks whenever he slowed
down. None of this was allowed in any rule book, but once again, no one was
going to stop Britney from doing whatever she pleased.

It was almost miraculous that Tyson was able to stay on his hands and knees,
but he did, until Britney had gotten him positioned in the ring exactly
where she wanted him. She then dismounted his back, walked in front of him
and bent down.

Smiling at Tyson, she leaning on her feet and he on his hands and knees,
Britney then put her fists together. She swung them down between her legs,
and then moved them forward as she stood up, her pink gloves delivering a
devastating double-uppercut to the bottom of Tyson's chin.

The sheer power of Britney's Blow brought Tyson to his feet as well. The
difference was that while Britney was able to stop, and stand in an upright
position, Tyson's backward momentum continued until he fell on to his back,
his head thudding onto the canvass. He landed in the middle of the ring.
Britney had knocked Tyson out cold, exactly when she wanted to, and not a
moment before.

As the referee counted from "One to Ten" with the crowd howling louder than
ever, Brittney did a little backwards strutting dance, similar to what she
had seen Drew Barrymore do in the first "Charlie's Angels" movie. Britney
looked at the clock. There were fifteen seconds left. With five seconds to
spare, Britney had won in a knockout!

When the referee got to "Ten", Britney stepped between Tyson's legs, and in
a conquering pose more fitting on a field of battle than a boxing ring, put
her right foot on Tyson while raising her arms in victory, as her fans
roared. The referee reached to hold her hand up, preparing to declare her
the winner.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN", the referee started to announce, before Britney
stopped him.

"Wait a moment, Ref!" she said. "I want him to be awake to hear you say it!"

Britney lifted her leg off of Tyson's chest and positioned it so that the
hard rubber stiletto heel of her shoe was positioned directly over his belly
button. She slowly raised her leg till her knee pointed upwards. Everyone in
the world watching via satellite, everyone watching in the arena, knew what
Britney was about to do. Everyone, that is, except Tyson, who remained
unconscious at Britney's feet.

Tyson quickly regained consciousness as Britney pounded her heel into his
navel. He squealed like a stuck pig and reflexively raised his arms and his
legs before crashing back down and rejoining his back on the canvass floor.
He couldn't move, but he was awake enough to understand what was happening.

(Of all the photographs taken of the fight, this one got the most play.
There are two daily tabloid newspapers in New York, and they always try to
outdo each other in coming up with the most clever headline. In this case,
both papers ran the same photo, and the exact same headline on the following
day: "BRITNEY SPEARS TYSON". If there was anyone that was humiliated nearly
as much as Tyson, it was these two headline writers, whose colleagues
sarcastically congratulated them them on their creativity and originality.
Clearly, neither of them would win a Pulitzer Journalism Prize for this
headline.)

While Britney kept her foot on Tyson's belly button and the sole of her shoe
rested on his protective cup, she nodded to the referee, giving him
permission to, as she put it "start from the top". The referee cleared his
throat. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WINNER BY A KNOCKOUT IN THE TENTH ROUND, THE
NEW ASSOCIATION CHAMPION, BRITNEEEEEEEEY SPEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAARS!"

The crowd was now at its noisiest. Most prominently heard were the thousands
of teenaged girls who were screaming at the victory of their idol over the
former world champ.

The officials brought in the silver-plated championship belt. But Britney
told them to stop. She spoke into the microphone. "I think that it's only
fitting that the former champ put the belt on me!" more roars of approval
came from the crowd.

Britney removed the foot that was pinning Tyson down, and told him to get to
his knees. She then turned to Tyson's corner men and told them to remove
Tyson's boxing gloves. Eager by this point to please Britney, they rushed to
do what she had commanded. She told them to put the gloves on the floor.
When they did, Britney kicked first one glove, and then the other, into the
audience. Two lucky and happy people in the crowd had just received a
souvenir of the event!

Prancing back to Tyson, Britney placed herself with her back to his kneeling
form. She spoke a few words to him, and, looking more ashamed than ever,
buckled the championship belt around Britney.

Britney told Tyson to stay on his hands and knees in the center of the ring
while she walked around its inside perimeter, fists in the air, bright smile
beaming, accepting the wild cheers from the crowd, who alternated between
watching her directly or looking at the huge close-up of her victory walk on
the giant television screens. She then returned to where Tyson was kneeling
and stood in front of him.

Tyson's head slumped in further shame when Britney gave him his next
instructions. But all she had to do was to put her fists right in front of
his face. First, he kissed Britney's pink boxing gloves, the gloves that had
caused him so much pain, the gloves that were splattered with his own blood.
Then he removed each glove and handed them to Britney. She then threw each
one, in different directions, into the crowd. Another two fortunate people
got a valuable collector's item!

Britney then asked one of her aides to bring her the long, pink, feathered
boa that she had worn into the ring. Once she had it, she suddenly kneed
Tyson under his chin, sending him to his back. Britney quickly spun around
and jumped, landing knees first on Tyson's belly, nearly knocking the wind
out of him. Her legs straddled the length of his torso, and all he could see
was Britney's beautiful butt directly in front of him. But he could feel
Britney reaching under his shorts and protective cup, and tying one end of
the boa around his balls. The crowd could see that Britney was doing
something with the boa underneath Tyson's trunks, but they weren't sure
exactly what.

Using Tyson's heaving chest for leverage, Britney vaulted herself off of his
body and back into a standing position in front of him. She bent down and
pulled off his right sneaker. Britney stood back up, twirled the shoe around
by its laces for a few seconds before flinging it into the crowd. She
repeated this process with his left shoe.

As the crowd gasped with anticipation, Britney reached down and with a deft
move, grabbed Tyson's black boxing trunks by the crotch area and stood back
up, taking the trunks with her. The audience screamed for her to throw it to
them, but instead, she tucked Tyson's shorts inside the strings of her pink
bikini bottom. Britney was keeping it as a souvenir for herself!

Bending down again, Britney pulled off Tyson's only remaining garments, his
athletic supporter and protective cup. All he was now "wearing" was
Britney's boa, which the audience could now see was bound in a series of
pink knots tied around his penis and balls. Britney stood back up, Tyson's
cup and supporter in one hand, and the boa in the other.

Instead of verbally instructing Tyson on what to do next, she simply pulled
up on the boa. With great effort, Tyson got to his knees. When Britney kept
on pulling, Tyson painfully struggled to his feet. Without his shoes, and
with Britney still wearing hers, she looked even taller than Tyson than she
had before!

Since he was a kid, Mike Tyson had been a bully. And as Heavyweight Champ,
it could be said that he was at one time the biggest bully in the world. But
now, a girl, a bratty blonde youngster just three years out of her teens,
banged her chest against his, causing him to stumble backwards. She was
showing how superior her firm, athletic body was to his as she continued to
push his body back with her own, and he could do nothing to stop her. She
kept pushing until his back hit against the ropes.

Britney whispered in Tyson's ear for him to lift his head as high as he
could. Tyson had been bowing his head to hide his humiliation, and he
hesitated when Britney gave her command. Britney was hoping that the shame
of it all would cause him to hesitate, and he did. This gave her the
opportunity to realize another one of her long-held fantasies: With a swift
move of her right leg upward, she kneed Tyson in the balls. The feather boa
that was tied around them offered little protection, and Tyson groaned.
Britney cocked her leg as if she was about to strike again, and this time,
Tyson frantically held his battered head up high.

Britney dropped the boa and used the now free hand to push Tyson's head even
higher. She then took the protective cup, which she held in her other hand,
and secured it underneath his head by pushing the bottom of the cup into
the base of his throat, just on top of his sternum bone. She then pushed the
top of the cup so that the sides and top wedged tightly underneath his chin.
She then tightly tied the cup in place with Tyson's athletic supporter, the
hard knot behind his head.

Britney took a moment to step back and proudly inspect her work. She had
immobilized Tyson's head in a position where he had to look straight ahead,
with his defeated face involuntarily held upwards for all to see. The hard
rubber cup kept his head from moving down, and the top and sides of the cup
bit into the very sensitive hollows below his jaw bones and his throat,
making any attempt by him to move his head to the side excruciatingly,
painfully impossible. Once Tyson realized this, tears ran down his face,
despite his efforts to stop them On the giant screens, the tears looked like
Niagara Falls. This gave Britney an added bonus: With the whole world
watching, she was making Tyson cry!

Britney held the boa in her left hand. She tugged at it a couple of times
while intently watching Tyson's groin area, to see how well her knots were
working. She couldn't have been more pleased. When she pulled, the knots
would tighten around his balls, causing immense pain. But when she eased her
grip, the soft, flexible feathers of which the boa was made caused the knots
to slightly loosen. But as soon as she pulled again, the knots tightened
back up, his balls painfully pressed against each other, knots biting into
them from all directions.

Once she was satisfied with what she saw, Britney spun around on her heels
until Tyson faced her back. Tyson was now of course completely barefoot and
naked, save for the pink boa tied around his groin. Britney sexily draped
the boa over her shoulder and turned her head to look back at Tyson. She
wrapped her end of the boa around her left hand, measuring it so that she
would be holding it at the point where he would be three feet behind her
when the boa was held tightly between them, an inch or two more than that
when Britney would slacken her hold.

The music that now started to play was one of Britney's greatest hits: "Oops
I Did It Again". Britney put up her hand towards the control room, telling
them to stop. She then spoke into the microphone. "That song would be more
appropriate if we ever had a rematch! Next time, maybe we'll do what we call
in Louisiana "old fashioned rasslin!" This thrilled the crowd to no end, who
were excited at the prospect.

Britney was excited at the prospect of a rematch, too. When all was said and
done, after the gate, the pay-per-view money, and owning the rights to what
became the biggest selling video ever, and getting a piece of the action
every time it was downloaded online, along with the money she made on the
side by betting on herself and taking the bookies to the cleaners, Britney
would make nearly a BILLION dollars on the fight! And with her awesome legs,
Britney knew that this would be one of her greatest assets if she were to
face Tyson if she were to face him in a Southern style "old fashioned
rasslin" match!

The ropes on one side of the ring had been disconnected so that that Britney
and Tyson could exit more easily. Britney looked forward and strutted off of
the ring and down the aisle of the arena that led to her dressing room,
security guards clearing her path through the cheering audience. Britney was
enjoying this and took her time, though she enjoyed stepping up the pace
every now and then, causing the knots to tighten. She turned around and
laughed as she watched the surprised Tyson realize that she was walking
faster, and that he had to quicken his pace as well or the knots would once
again do their damage.

But even when she slowed down her strut, Britney still made it as painful as
she could for Tyson. Every few seconds, she flicked her wrist with her left
hand, tightening the knots as she waved with her right hand to her adoring,
screaming fans.

The flicking of Britney's wrist was barely perceptible, but its effects were
not. Every time she pulled the boa tighter, it stretched out in a straight
line, which was followed a second later by a whimpering moan emanating from
Tyson as the knots created repeated agony.

But what suddenly seemed the most poignant summation of what had happened in
the course of the previous hour were the words emblazoned on Britney's pink
boa. The words were clearly visible whenever Britney tightened her grip,
causing the boa to straighten out.

When she had first come into the ring wearing the boa, no one had thought
much about the words. But now, they realized Britney's true intended purpose
of the words. The crowd in the arena and viewers around the world knew that,
as much as to the boa itself, the words pertained to the penis and balls to
which it were trussed, and to the man attached to the bound groin, Mike
Tyson.

The words read: "PROPERTY OF BRITNEY SPEARS".

[Hendrix]

I don't like so much this story, too fictitious

My favorite Britney's story from this site used to be Britney vs Justin Timberlake. Way more realistic. Britney vs Kevin Federline was awsome too, Britney still fought against Federline new girlfriend and dominated both of them. I would love to read stories like those again.

[Sirius]

I would love to read a followup with a wrestling match!

[iceman75]

I personally enjoyed the story, mostly because it is unrealistic, I do love to read stories of small girls beating up much bigger, more muscular, supposedly stronger men. Especially if the girls are really confident and rubs it into the guys, like Britney did to Mike Tyson did, she showed him up really well, and dominated him throughout, even at times letting him punch her when she had both arms tied behind her back, knowing that she had beaten him down to the point where his arms would be weak and his punches would be ineffective. I love that kind of mental and physical domination, and I agree with Sirius, a wrestling match would be cool to see.

[Rockwave]

Originally Posted by Hendrix [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]

I don't like so much this story, too fictitious

My favorite Britney's story from this site used to be Britney vs Justin Timberlake. Way more realistic. Britney vs Kevin Federline was awsome too, Britney still fought against Federline new girlfriend and dominated both of them. I would love to read stories like those again.

Links?

[Hendrix]

Originally Posted by Rockwave [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]

Links?

These stories were written by madcat I think. Unfortunately all his stories "can't be found"

[paul0415]

[Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]

[Rockwave]

thanks.. i love reading britney beat up stories

[Hendrix]

Originally Posted by Rockwave [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]

thanks.. i love reading britney beat up stories

another good one

Flora vs. Brintey Spears by Penthouse Suite Catfight

A typical Saturday night would consist of dinner, perhaps a movie or on a rare occasion, a few drinks with her husband at a quiet, local watering hole. Seldom did she strive for more excitement out of life and as such, all aspects of it, from her personality to her wardrobe, had become dull and predictable. The one exception was wrestling. Flora came alive once she returned to wrestling just a few months ago. Through wrestling she felt vibrant, sexy and stimulated and donning her signature black bikini, she also looked the part. But up to this point, that sensual beast had kept herself hidden in all other aspects of Flora’s life, and she had no idea how to change that.

But then one night her husband, grateful to his wife for resuming her wrestling and discovering that she had done it just for him, decided to surprise her. Over dinner, he suggested that they go out dancing next weekend, and Flora seemed to come alive. Elated by his invitation she immediately sprung into action.

At work the next day, she confided to one of her younger co-workers about the invitation, explaining how important the night would be. Flora told her how she wanted to break out of her rut, but needed some help. It had been awhile since she had gone out dancing, so she had no idea where to go or how to dress. Her 24-year-old co-worker seemed delighted at he opportunity to “hippen Flora up”, so during lunch, she took Flora to a trendy shop and began to do just that.

As Flora was escorted by her friend to a bench outside of the changing rooms, the young woman set about scooping up different outfits for Flora to try on. Clad in a navy blue business suit, Flora sat there as her friend began to toss clothes to her. As she checked each one out, Flora was a bit surprised at the outfits her friend was choosing.

The younger woman grabbed several pairs of low-rise jeans and skimpy halter-tops for her to try on, Flora obediently following her lead, wanting to look both sexy and youthful for her husband. But as she began to try on the trendy garments, her young co-worker set out to find the finishing touch; sexy underwear. As Flora emerged from the dressing room in a pair of revealingly low-cut jeans and a tight tank top that ended about an inch above her navel, her friend looked on, critiquing her appearance.

“Hmmmm ….. looks good ….. but it’s missing something.”

She then handed Flora a black thong.

“Here, put this on underneath ….. and take off your bra!”, her friend told her as she handed her the thong.

Flora took the miniscule panty, her eyes fixed on the skimpy garment.

“Are you kidding?” she said in disbelief.

“Listen Flora, if you want to look sexy and go to the hottest clubs, you’ve got to dress the part. If you don’t dress like you fit in, you won’t even get past the front door! Besides, you’ve got the body for it!”

She continued to stare at the meager panty before finally shaking her head and walking back into the dressing room. She slipped the pants off and pulled the thong on before wriggling back into the tight jeans. She then pulled the tank top off, undid her bra and tossed it aside before pulling the tank top back over her head. Just as she did, her friend slid a pair of strappy, black shoes with three-inch heels under the dressing room’s door.

“Put these on too Flora!”

Typically a strong-minded woman with a penchant for giving orders rather than taking them, Flora uncharacteristically followed her friend’s instructions and slid the shoes onto her bare feet. With no mirror in the small changing room, she finally walked back out, her friend escorting her over to the mirror.

“Okay, we’re almost there. Let me just …..”

With that the young woman reached down into the back of Flora’s waistband, grabbing the back of her thong and pulling it up just enough so that it peaked out from the back of her jeans. Flora then turned and stared at herself in the mirror, giggling nervously as her friend gave her own assessment.

“There, now you can go out dancing and you’ll fit right in. Besides, you’re husband will probably be horny as hell once he sees you in this outfit!”

Turning as she checked herself out in the mirror, Flora couldn’t believe that she was going to wear the outfit out in public. Her nipples protruded from beneath the tank top and her hip bones were completely exposed from the dangerously low hip-huggers.

“But”, she thought to herself, “If this is what the kids are wearing to the clubs, than damn it I’m going to wear it too!” So after a few more glimpses in the mirror, she slipped out of the trendy outfit, put her business suit back on and paid for her new clothes before going back to work.

The rest of the week passed before finally Saturday night arrived. Flora knew that she needed help with her hair and make-up, so she asked her friend to assist, and she agreed. As a result, Flora asked her husband to meet her at the entrance to the club at 11:00 PM. It took awhile for Flora to get ready, her friend fixing her black hair so that it was parted on the side, with a wisp of it falling over her eyes. She then put Flora’s make-up on, much more than Flora would have done herself. Finally, once the make over was done, Flora spritzed herself with the perfume she saved only for special occasions. Her friend then called her a cab, wished her luck and sent her off.

Getting out of the taxi outside of the club, Flora stood off to the side of the line, a bit embarrassed by the way she was dressed as she glanced around, looking for him. Despite her discomfort, Flora quickly realized that her friend had been right. Lots of other girls were dressed similarly, and though older, Flora did not feel at all out of place. Suddenly she spotted her husband walking toward her, but surprisingly, he passed right by her, not noticing his wife. She called him over and he when he turned around, he was stunned at what his wife was wearing.

“WOW! Flora you look hot!” he told her.

She smiled, content with his reaction as they walked to the back of the line. The bouncer abruptly signaled for her and her husband to come to the front of the line however, waving them inside while giving Flora a quick look up and down as she passed him by. As he opened the front door for them, the pulsating beat of the thunderous music filled her ears and Flora was itching to dance. Her husband was much less comfortable in the surroundings however and suggested that they have a few drinks first, to which Flora agreed.

As they stood at the crowded bar, Flora sucked down her first drink before her husband bought a second. As she sipped it, the music too loud for the couple to carry on any form of intelligible conversation, she began to look around. Though her husband had begun to check out some of the younger women in the club, Flora took great satisfaction in the fact that some of the younger guys in the club were actually checking her out!

After finishing her second drink, Flora began to feel good, but then noticed her husband ordering a third. She leaned over and whispered to him as he reached toward the bartender to pay.

“That’s the last one for me sweetheart. I want to go dance.”

He smirked back at her, not excited about the prospect of dancing, but nodding his head in agreement. Flora drank the third drink quickly, her husband finishing his shortly after her. As he set his glass down on the bar, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the dance floor.

The large, open area was crowded, but Flora found an open spot just in front of the stage. By now the drinks had begun to take their affect and Flora gradually felt her inhibitions slipping away. She shimmied up close to her husband, grinding herself against him, but although he was dancing, it was obvious he was not thrilled in doing so and was much less animated in his movements than his wife was. But Flora wasn’t discouraged, spinning around, her arms over her head as she bopped to the beat.

A couple of songs later, Flora noticed a set of cages elevated on either side of the stage with steps leading up to them from the dance floor. There were a couple of people dancing in each one, but there was still room for more, so Flora leaned in toward her husband and asked him to come and dance with her in the cage.

He looked up at the cage and then shook his head, not interested at all. But he told her to go ahead and have fun as he leaned back against the side of the stage to take a break. Flora didn’t hesitate, climbing up the stairs and picking a spot at the front of the cage before moving freely and sensuously, savoring the feeling of being on display as she danced. She was feeling exactly as she hoped she would, vibrant, sexy AND STIMULATED, and glanced down at her husband, hoping that he was enjoying the show she was putting on for him. Much to her dismay however, he wasn’t even watching her. Though initially annoyed, she lost herself in the blaring music, shaking and shimmying before suddenly the DJ lowered the music and began to speak over it, making an announcement to the crowd.

“Wassup!” The crowd cheered back at him, Flora joining the cheers as he continued. “This is your lucky night! We have a special guest here tonight who has agreed to get up and perform one of the songs off of her new album. So let’s give it up for ….. BRITNEY SPEARS!”

The crowd erupted as seemingly everyone in it began to charge toward the stage. Flora’s husband was right in front, his idea to take a break from dancing putting him in the perfect location. But as the music stopped, Flora tried to make her way down to him, but was blocked by a huge bodyguard.

“No one near the stage! You’ve got to stay in there until Britney’s done.” he barked at Flora, ensuring that she stayed in the cage.

Looking down at her husband, she wanted to let him know that she couldn’t get down there, but he was much too interested in staring up at the stage as Britney made her entrance. Dressed in tight leather pants and a leather bustier, the stunning pop star skipped out from behind a back door and started to prance sexily around the stage as the music began again. Flora’s husband eyes became fixed on the gorgeous Ms. Spears and, shockingly to his wife, he began to dance as she started to sing.

The song went on for a few minutes, Flora glaring down at her husband as he boogied to and stared up at the pop star. As the music continued to play, Britney ended a verse of the lyrics before hopping to the edge of the stage and addressing the crowd.

“HEY Y’ALL!!!! HOW YOU DOIN’?”

The crowd roared back, Flora’s husband pumping his fist in the air. She couldn’t believe the way he seemed to be enamored with Britney, especially since he was barely willing to dance at all just a few minutes earlier. But now he was bopping around, thoroughly enjoying the show as Britney continued.

“YOU KNOW, I USUALLY TRAVEL WITH MY DANCERS, BUT SINCE THIS WAS A SURPRISE APPEARANCE, I NEED A VOLUNTEER TO DANCE WITH ME?”

To Flora’s utter dismay, her husband shot his arms up and caught Britney’s eye, prompting her to signal to her bodyguards to let him up on stage. As he got there, he began to swivel his hips as Britney ground her magnificent body up against him, the two of them putting on an erotic display. Flora stopped dancing altogether by this point, staring in disbelief as her husband bopped with Britney Spears. As the song wound down, Britney stepped up to the edge of the stage once again as he continued to dance alongside of her.

“WELL THAT’S IT FOR TONIGHT. Y’ALL BE SURE TO COME OUT AND SEE MY CONCERT!”

With that, the song ended and Britney took a bow, grabbing Flora’s husbands hand and having him bow with her. She then skipped to the back of the stage as the door opened up, pulling Flora’s husband along. They walked through the doorway before it closed behind them, Flora stunned that he had left her there in the cage. She rushed over to the bodyguard who was blocking her exit and told him that the guy with Britney was her husband. He refused to listen to her please, but with the stage now clear, allowed her out of the cage. Flora rushed to the back of the stage, but was met abruptly by another burly, bodyguard.

“THIS SECTION IS CLOSED!” he told her curtly.

“But that was my husband!”, Flora pleaded.

“Yeah right. And Britney is my wife!”, he replied sarcastically.

As the argument ensued, Flora’s husband stood backstage with Britney, the two of them catching their breath.

“You’re a good dancer.”, she told him between breaths, the sweat glistening off of her magnificent, bare body.

“Not really. You just made me look good!”, he replied flirtingly.

Britney smiled, a glow in her eyes as she began to flirt back with him.

“You know, I’m having a small, intimate party back in my suite. Why don’t you come join me?”

Flora’s husband nodded as if he was hypnotized, forgetting about his wife altogether. But he was quickly reminded as a bodyguard walked over and stepped between him and Britney.

“There’s this crazy chick out there who says she’s this guy’s wife and demands to come backstage. Should I toss her?” he said to Britney, who leaned across him to look at Flora’s husband quizzically.

“Yeah, that’s my wife.” he informed her almost dejectedly.

“You’re wife eh?, Well let’s see what she looks like.” Britney commented slyly before turning to the bouncer. “You can let her in.” she told him, and within seconds, Flora was huffing backstage and standing alongside her husband.

“Flora, this is Britney. Britney, Flora.”, he said, introducing the two.

“Nice to meet you Flora. Your husband is a great dancer.”

Flora glared back at her, obviously jealous.

“Yeah, so I’ve seen. Now if only I could get him to dance like that with me!”

Britney smiled, sensing the tension between the two and deciding to entertain herself by helping to escalate it.

“Well, maybe you’re not giving him a good enough reason to!” she replied bitingly, the snide remark not lost on Flora who sneered back at her.

But before she could reply, Britney decided to invite Flora to the party as well.

“I just invited your husband to come join me for a little party back at my suite. Why don’t you come too. Maybe he’ll dance with you there!”, Britney said in her cutesy, Southern accent.

“I’d love to.”, Flora replied dryly.

“Good. I’ll meet you both there in about 20 minutes. I’m in the Deluxe Hotel, the Penthouse Suite. You can head over and I’ll meet you there. My bodyguards will make sure you have no trouble getting up.”

With that Britney turned and pranced away, but not before sliding her hand sexily beneath Flora’s husband chin, a sly smile on her face as she shook her hips before ducking into her dressing room. One of her bodyguards then walked up and escorted Flora and her husband outside where a limousine waited to take them to the hotel. Once inside the limo, Flora took the opportunity to chastise her husband.

“Well you certainly looked like you were having fun.”, Flora droned sarcastically.

He smirked back at her, almost annoyed by the accusation.

“Come on Flora. I got caught up in the moment, just like you did when you were dancing up in that cage.”

Flora turned away as he spoke, wanting him to know that she was annoyed. But once he made reference to her dancing in the cage, she jumped at the chance to retaliate.

“How would you know what I looked like dancing in the cage. You weren’t even watching.”

He turned and stared in her eye, his annoyed expression gone and replaced with one much more understanding.

“I WAS watching you Flora, and you looked great. But come on, I got the chance to dance on stage with Britney Spears. If I just stood there, I would’ve looked like an idiot.”

He seemed sincere, so Flora quickly forgave him as she slid onto his lap and kissed and made up before they discussed how exciting it was to enjoy a private party in the most luxurious suite of the nicest hotel in the city. The limousine pulled up the hotel and they were escorted inside and up to the suite. Flora was still suspicious of Britney’s motives, but was determined to “mark her territory”, and not let Britney near her man .

There were a few other people present so Flora and her husband made the rounds, Flora clenching tightly onto his hand as they chatted with the other guests. A few minutes later however, Britney arrived and everyone rushed over to greet her. Flora’s husband began to walk over, but Flora, still clutching his hand, pulled him back. He stopped, turning to look at her and seeing jealousy stretched across her face. He stayed by her side, but a few minutes later Britney walked over and greeted the couple, thanking them for coming. They began to exchange small talk before Britney asked Flora what she did for a living. Flora began to describe her real job, her husband allowing her to go on for a few seconds before interjecting.

“She’s also a professional wrestler!”, he blurted over his wife, unable to hide his excitement.

Britney seemed surprised by the revelation, and curious to find out more.

“A professional wrestler eh? I would’ve never guessed!” Britney proclaimed as she mockingly glanced up and down Flora’s body .

Flora nodded her head, trying to hide her smirk.

“It keeps me in shape.” Flora replied proudly.

Britney seemed intent on irritating Flora further however as she continued to give Flora’s body the once over.

“Well I guess you are in decent shape for a woman your age.”

Flora smiled back at her, but was yelling inside of her head. “A WOMAN MY AGE?!?! WHY YOU LITTLE BITCH!”

Britney smirked at the brunette, but then began to delve deeper.

“You know part of my workout routine has always involved martial arts training, kick boxing and other forms of fighting. But I’ve never tried wrestling. In fact, between the three of us ….”

The pop tart paused, leaning closer to whisper to them.

“I’ve always fantasized about having a sort of…. you know … catfight. The thought of it just seems so sexual and erotic. I wonder how it would feel if I ever had one!”

It was if a light went on above Flora’s husband’s head as his eyes grew wider and a smile stretched across his face. The possibility of seeing his wife engaged in a catfight against Britney Spears was too good to pass up, so without hesitation, he offered up her services.

“It’s funny you should say that, because Flora loves to catfight. So maybe tonight we can make your fantasy become reality!”

Instantly Flora turned and glared menacingly at her husband. How dare he make such an offer without consulting with her first! But before she could intervene, Britney seemed intrigued by the idea.

“Hmmm. Now that’s an interesting proposal. What do you think about that Flora?” Britney asked, turning to stare at Flora as she waited for a response.

Flora was now on the spot. If she refused, Britney would surely relish the opportunity to make her look silly, and that seemed to be exactly what the pop tart was trying to do. But if she agreed … well … first off there was no way Britney was serious. But if she was ….. Flora began to think what the downside was to a catfight. Sure, Britney was a 23-year-old kid and in great shape, but there was no way she knew how to fight. And once Flora beat Britney Spears in a catfight, in front of her husband ….. well surely there would be nothing he wouldn’t do for her after that. Finding very little downside, and still feeling the effects of the drinks she had gulped down earlier, Flora decided that she would call Britney’s bluff.

“I’m game if you are Britney.”, she replied arrogantly.

Britney paused, rubbing her chin with her hand as she thought about the possibility. But then she sat up, a smile on her face.

“You know what, I’ve always wanted to do this, so why not? Let’s do it!”

Flora was stunned, never thinking Britney was serious. But the pop star quickly got up and whispered to her bodyguard, who rolled his eyes, almost as if to indicate “here we go again”. He then proceeded to clear the room, telling all of the other guests that the party was over and escorting them out of the suite. After they were gone he began to move all of the furniture from the large living room up against the walls, clearing the middle of the room to make way for the fight.

Britney meanwhile excused herself, stepping into the other room to change for the fight, leaving Flora and her husband while a bodyguard stood by the door. The couple couldn’t believe what was happening, but both seemed anxious for the fight to get underway. Flora’s husband was aroused by the prospect of what was to come, while Flora cherished the opportunity to put on a show for her husband, pummeling the pop tart in the process. Her husband took a seat on one of the sofas as Flora stood in front of him, kicking her shoes off, each one landing in his lap.

“I guess I’d better get ready.”, she purred in her sexiest voice before sliding her jeans down her legs to reveal her black thong.

As she put the spike-heeled shoes back on her feet, her husband stared at her with an evil smile on his face. He said nothing, but his expression said it all as his wife turned in front of him wearing only her tank top, thing and shoes. But as Flora enjoyed displaying her body for her husband’s benefit, Britney walked out of the other room, and his eyes quickly darted toward her.

Dressed in a black, leather bra and matching thong, Britney also wore a pair of high-heeled, thigh high, black leather boots. Her 23-year old-body was flawless, toned by daily sessions with a personal trainer, and Flora’s husband was paralyzed by her as she strutted across the room.

Flora sneered back at her as Britney approached, the two women now standing face to face. Flora said nothing, the jealous sneer on her face saying it all. Finally breaking the silence, Flora addressed her foe.

“So, anything goes?”, she asked, referring to the rules for the fight.

“That’s the way I live my life!”, Britney purred back in her sexy, arrogant southern accent.

Flora then turned and stared at the bodyguard who was guarding the door, before turning back to Britney. She didn’t need to say anything, as Britney nodded her head to him, signaling for him to leave. He shook his head to indicate that he wouldn’t leave, but sternly, she ordered him to do so.

“Just stand outside and guard the door”, she commanded, and he reluctantly did so.

“Okay, are you ready?”, Britney asked.

Flora nodded her head, and within seconds, the two faced each other and the fight was underway. Assuming that the pop tart had no fighting experience, Flora decided to make the first move, screaming angrily as she charged at the startled Britney, hastily grabbing hold of her hair with both hands and yanking on it.

Caught off guard, Britney’s head was jarred violently from side-to-side as Flora ripped at her hair, the youngster helpless. Flora tossed her head around angrily for several more seconds before finally tossing her aside, Britney falling to the floor, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

Taking advantage of the youngster’s flustered state, Flora rushed her again, screaming angrily for effect. She again grabbed Britney by the hair, ripping her onto her feet and again jostling her head around. Britney tried to raise her hands, but her arms flailed form side to side as Flora continued to pull her head about, shredding her brown, wavy locks in the process. Finally, after several more seconds, Flora again tossed her aside, this time Britney landing in a chair on the side of the room.

As the singer grabbed her aching head, slowly getting back onto her feet, Flora stood on the opposite side of the room, her hands placed arrogantly on her hips, her foot tapping the floor in an obnoxious gesture. Britney’s expression slowly began to change however, from one of startled concern to one of anger and determination. As Flora prepared to rush her once more, Britney crouched down, her hands pulled out in front of her as she danced on her toes in a sort of martial arts pose.

Unfazed, Flora again rushed at her, but as she approached, Britney quickly turned to the side, cocked her leg, and fired a fearsome, side kick square into the charging Flora’s throat. Instantly Flora let out a loud gurgle as her husband blurted out a loud “OH!”

Doubling over, her hands wrapping around her throat, Flora coughed and gagged, trying to catch her breath. Britney’s kick had caught her square in her windpipe, and she was having trouble breathing. But as Flora suffered, the youngster strutted over to her, wrapping Flora’s bowed head between her legs and squeezing them together, placing her in a head scissors.

Britney squeezed her thighs tightly together, the taut skin of her inner thighs clamping around Flora’s head before she dropped to the floor, sitting erect as she continued to clench her thighs around Flora’s head. Laying on her side with her head trapped, Flora began to thrash her legs while slap at Britney’s thighs. But the athletic singer showed no signs of letting up until finally Flora dug her nails into Britney’s leg, prompting the beauty to release the hold.

Flora quickly rolled away as Britney massaged her thigh, four little gashes now noticeable from the digging of Flora’s fingernails. Flora got to her feet and Britney did the same, but before she could get completely erect, a screaming Flora again rushed her, this time reaching for and grabbing her breasts.

Immediately Britney began to squeal as Flora burrowed her nails into the fleshy mounds of skin. She dug them in as deeply as she could, Britney’s eyes tearing up as her squeals grew louder. Finally, in an angry and desperate attack, Britney wailed her arm violently around, striking her fist against the side of Flora’s head. The blow landed on Flora’s ear and caused her head to be filled with a loud, ringing noise as she stumbled backward, releasing her grip in the process.

As Britney gasped for air, her high-pitched moans evidence of her pain, Flora stumbled backward, holding her head. Britney recovered quickly, angered by the attack on her chest as she rushed Flora and grabbed hold of the front of her tank top. She began to tug at it, causing Flora’s body to flutter back and forth before finally, the shirt began to rip. With a final, angry tug, Britney ripped the shirt right off of Flora’s body, leaving her foe topless.

Flora stood up, her modest but pert breasts now on display as her small, dark brown nipples stood erect. Britney tossed the shirt aside, snickering at the now topless Flora whose scowl turned the room cold. The two faced each other silently for a few seconds, each breathing heavily as the exchanged angry stares. Britney then began to condescendingly peruse Flora’s small breasts before glancing down at her. She then looked back at Flora, smiling widely to insinuate that she had clearly won the battle of “who had the bigger chest”.

The inference infuriated Flora, who again rushed at Britney, grabbing her by the hair. But this time Britney fought back, grabbing hold of Flora’s hair with both hands as the two women began to rip at each other’s locks. Though about the same height, Britney was obviously the stronger of the two, her well-toned body the result of daily rigorous sessions with her personal trainer. So despite Flora’s fury, Britney soon overpowered her, pushing her back up against a bar in the corner of the room.

With Flora’s back pressed up against the bar, Britney began to push on her head, causing Flora’s body to arch backward and over the top of the bar. Moving closer so that she pushed her own body forward onto Flora in order to pin her to the bar, Britney then quickly unclenched her fingers from Flora’s hair while quickly snatching hold of her wrists. Once she had them under control, Britney pinned Flora’s arms down onto the bar, holding them in place as she wedged herself tightly up against the petite brunette.

Flora tried desperately to wriggle free, but Britney was too strong and held her in place, Flora’s arms pinned down and stretched out on either side of her. Britney then lowered her leather-clad chest onto Flora’s face, burying it in her cleavage. Flora began to kick and squirm in a frantic struggle to break free, but Britney wasn’t about to let go. So with her face mashed between the pop tart’s ample breasts, Flora struggled to breathe.

Britney delighted in her foe’s laboring, knowing that she was trapped and had little escape. Flora continued to kick and struggle, but gradually her efforts lost their zeal, her thin body slowly being depleted of oxygen. Within another minute or so, Flora’s body grew limp and hung from the bar as Britney kept her pinned tightly against it, continuing to immerse Flora’s face in her bosom. Finally, with Flora showing no signs of resistance, Britney released the hold of her wrists and backed away, Flora’s body oozing to the floor before she collapsed in a heap at the foot of the bar.

Britney smirked as she stood over Flora, rolling her onto her back before placing the spiked heel of her boot down between Flora’s exposed breasts. She then lifted her arms and flexed her muscles, engaging in the ultimate victory pose while turning to face Flora’s husband.

“Is that all she’s got?” Britney asked quizzically, surprised at how easily Flora had been conquered.

With his wife out cold, her lifeless body flat against the floor as Britney posed over it, Flora’s husband was stunned at the result. His wife was usually a warrior, despite her small size. But Britney had overwhelmed her, a sight he had rarely seen before. He shrugged his shoulders at Britney, prompting her to lift her foot off of Flora’s chest and walk behind the bar. The pop star had expected more of a fight, especially from a pro wrestler, and seemed disappointed that the fight had ended so quickly. So bending down, she opened the door to a small refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of ice-cold spring water, twisting it open as she walked back toward where Flora lay. Standing over her, Britney then began to pour the cold water down onto Flora’s face.

“Come on, wake up.”

Flora slowly revived, shaking her head as the water poured down onto her face. She rolled onto her side, coughing from the water pouring into her mouth and nose. Slowly she began to get up into a seated position, looking puzzled and not aware of what had happened.

“Let’s go, get up!” Britney demanded.

Flora gradually began to get to her feet, but as she did, Britney strutted over to her and grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her toward the center of the room. Once there, she pulled Flora’s head up so that the two were face to face as she stared into Flora’s still hazy eyes.

“Professional wrestler my ass!” she murmured.

With that, Britney reached forward and pinched her fingers around Flora’s nipples, squeezing them tightly as the petite brunette’s face cringed in pain. Still in a daze from being knocked out, Flora struggled to regain her composure as Britney ripped her nipples away from her chest.

The cloudiness which filled her head quickly dissipated as Flora wailed loudly from the pain. Britney continued to yank on her nipples, Flora’s small, rubbery breasts stretched forward from the excruciating plucking they were subjected to. Though his wife had been out cold, Flora’s husband still knew that his wife would never quit. She was a tiger when it came to fighting, so he waited for her to retaliate. But much to his surprise, Flora did not fight back, as if she was allowing Britney to rip her nipples from her chest.

With Flora’s body thrashing around, Britney released her grip on one of the nipples, but then wound her arm around and delivered a roundhouse bitch slap to the side of Flora’s face. The loud SMACK filled the room as the force of the blow knocked Flora to the side and down to her knees. She immediately raised one hand to her auburn red cheek, while covering her aching breasts with her other arm.

Britney was in complete control, and she knew it. She strutted around the room like a proud peacock, her thigh high boots hugging her magnificent legs while she set herself behind Flora before placing her boot into Flora’s back. With a stiff push, she knocked Flora down onto her stomach before taking a seat on her back. Britney positioned her taut butt down onto the back of Flora’s shoulders as she faced Flora’s legs. With the dominated brunette’s bare butt protruding from beneath her thong, Britney leaned forward and began to slap at it.

“SMACK ….. SMACK ….. SMACK!”

Each slap sent a loud clap through the air as the pale skin on Flora’s ass jiggled wildly from the spanking. Britney delighted in the sight of her foe’s fluttering skin, prompting to increase the intensity of each slap. With Flora trapped below her, defenseless against the humiliating spanking, Britney smiled at her victim’s husband, flirting with him as his wife was subjected to the humiliation.

Gradually Flora’s round, fleshy bottom grew bright red, her skin raw as it continued to tremble from each slap. Satisfied, Britney then pushed herself up onto her feet as Flora remained flat on her back, whimpering below her. The pop tart glared down at Flora, her hand on her hip in a sexy pose, until finally Flora began to push herself up onto all fours. With her head bowed in front of her, Flora shook it back and forth in a desperate attempt to clear her cobwebs.

Britney walked up behind the beleaguered Flora and cocking her leg, fired a swift kick into Flora’s red ass. The blow knocked Flora flat on her face as Britney giggled, enjoying her dominance of the older woman. Slowly Flora got onto all fours once more, but again Britney kicked her in the butt, knocking her down a second time with an even more potent punt. She then turned to Flora’s husband, and with a sinister smile said,

”I just love the way her flabby little butt jiggles around like that when I kick it, don’t you?”

Flora’s husband was speechless. His once ornery and ferocious wife was being shown up by the young pop star, an outcome he could never have envisioned at the start. But as Flora wriggled on her stomach, trying to scoot away from yet another of Britney’s kicks, he had to admit that Britney had thoroughly; and literally; kicked her ass!

But despite the beating she had taken, Britney’s insulting comment had angered Flora. Getting up onto all fours once more, the familiar, irate scowl crossed her pretty face and finally her husband anticipated the return of his wife’s nasty side. She pushed herself up onto her knees, but as she did, Britney charged up in front of her and shoved the sole of her boot into Flora’ chest. Flora raised her hands to push it off of her, but before she could, Britney drove her foot forward, knocking Flora flat on her back.

As Flora fell, Britney raced alongside her and placed her foot down onto Flora’s throat, which fit neatly into the space between Britney’s spiked heel and the sole of the boot. Britney then began to put her weight down onto it and immediately Flora’s body began to thrash violently below her.

The choke turned Flora’s face bright red as a look of panic stretched across it. With her legs flailing in all directions and her hands desperately trying to force Britney’s foot off of her, Flora gradually began to lose the fight as she once again, drifted toward unconsciousness. It took a short while more before finally Flora’s limbs collapsed to the floor, her eyes closed as she passed out. Britney kept her foot perched sexily on Flora for a few more moments as she flexed her muscles at Flora’s husband.

“Well, I guess that’s it!”, Britney proclaimed before finally removing her foot form Flora’s throat and sauntering over toward her husband.

“I hope you’re not too upset with me.”, she purred to him, leaning down so that he had an excellent view of her cleavage.

Flora’s husband was dumbfounded as his eyes stared into Britney’s cleavage. She snickered before finally walking away, heading toward the front door of the suite. Opening it, she called her bodyguard back in.

“I think we’re done here!”

He walked inside and stared down at the unconscious Flora, her topless body sprawled on the floor, her small chest now red and swollen.

“Another one bites the dust. So what’s that, 8 in a row?”, he asked the pop star.

“I think it’s 9, isn’t it?” she giggled back at him.

Flora’s husband watched the exchange, amazed at what he was hearing. It was apparent that Britney was not the innocent, inexperienced little girl she had claimed to be. She appeared to be a skilled catfighter who apparently had just claimed her ninth victim; this one being his wife. Britney then walked toward the bedroom door and opened it, but then turned to Flora’s husband.

“Tiny here will show you out. Y’all take care now!”

With that she closed the door behind her as Flora’s husband walked over to try and revive his wife.