Lola and Randy end up trading places

There’d never been an easier target for an ARMS fighter: a guy fresh into his first fight, with his arms looped into a wire fence so he couldn’t even move. If Lola had any luck at all left in her, this would be the knockout punch that ended her embarrassing first S-A-T league bout. There wasn’t any more going easy on the rookie, but as she spun her Funchuck and gathered up momentum, she reminded herself: this could be a lesson for her too. Even in a moment like this, she shouldn’t abandon her showmanship. She had to put on a smile! Even if she did so while still covering her bottom with one of her over-sized hands.

In her mind, Randy could have kept grunting and twisting for the rest of the night and not gotten free of that fence. It wasn’t just that his oversized hand had somehow managed to get through without leaving a good exit hole. His arm was all the way wrapped up in the links of the steel. It was like when your car keys get tangled up on their keychain in your pocket, only one-hundred times worse. It was like when you pull out a string of festive lights after shoving it into some random box after the holidays. It was the kind of thing that'd take an hour to untangle. He and that fence were married for life, she thought.

The smile fell off of her face and that comforting thought out of her mind as she saw Raw Randy, somehow, miraculously, inconceivably, free not just his arm, but the whole glove from confinement as she threw her arm forward! How was it possible? It was like that part of the fence somehow stretched to let him free, like it was nothing more than a rubber band!

With him now scampering out of the way, the spot was vacant for a new occupant. Her fist flew into the hole, and just as his had snaked back out as though it was a miracle, hers wrapped through several holes it ought not to be able to fit through– the reverse of a miracle. Her balloon-style arm ended up completely tangled in the fence, but worse, it pulled her along with it, dragging her forwards so that her exposed skin pushed up against the frame. Her skin indented as her breasts squished against the surface, making it look like she was a pin-up model trying to use the fence to accent her assets. The audience on the other side enjoyed a much closer sitting distance than regular ARMS audience members would get and they were nearly close enough to reach out and touch her. The grins on their faces were pretty far from sympathetic to her predicament.

“Hooooonk," she groaned to herself in the most whimsical way she could manage. "I feel like I’m bringing slapstick back in fashion,” she joked under her breath, now finding herself in an even worse situation than Randy was in. She couldn’t even turn around to watch his incoming attacks– he’d have a great view of the very minimal coverage the back of her thong provided while she twisted her hips and wrenched her torso, trying to wiggle her arm free. The audience was having a great time, but an appreciation for the lost art of slapstick comedy probably had very little to do with it.

"This is my chance!" Randy pepped himself up, speaking out loud as he approached with both fists raised. She could hardly blame him for taking advantage of her predicament. After all, she'd tried to knock his lights out just a moment ago while he was still tangled up-- sportsmanship was kind of gone out the window. The fighter reached punching distance, which, despite his springy arms, he seemed to have decided was regular arm's length, then began throwing a barrage of randomly aimed quick jabs.

At least defending herself wasn't so hard-- Lola found catching both of his fists with just one glove a relatively easy task, deflecting random punch after random punch. The only problem was that it didn't leave her any room to protect her modesty. Holding one glove over her intimate areas would actually do a pretty good job of hiding it, but she couldn't do that while she was wound up in the fence like a bunch of taffy with one arm and blocking with the other arm. It seemed like he wasn't even going to manage any good tags on her clothes this time around, which had been a bizarre element of concern earlier.

Lola Pop smiled victoriously as she finally figured out the right way to pull her arm back. All she had to do now was pull the glove free! It didn't come as easily as Randy's ultimately had, leaving a big hole in the fence instead, but finally, she managed to get her other glove out. She twisted her body now so that she could fully face front towards him, spinning her torso and her hips so he'd no longer be looking at her back...

... Only for the furry band covering her top, as well as the garter around her waist to stay where they were, tearing off and remaining inside the fence. The garter belt around her waist wasn't hiding much in the first place, nor was it supporting any straps, but the last remnant of the babydoll top had at least been the final layer of her lingerie. With it off, the whole shape of each breast was visible, covered immodestly by two pink fur patches in an eyepatch style over each boob. The patches were tightly wrapped with very thin, string-tied straps going around the back and compressed her bosom like it was a lump of meat. "Perché io!" she gasped, gritting her teeth with red cheeks as she focused her eyes downward rather than forward. It was impossible not to notice how much her tits were bouncing around every time she blocked one of Randy's hits.

"Might as well give up now. Hff... Th-This is my hot streak! My running start! Hrk! I was... I was made for this sport!" Raw Randy boasted, sounding half out of breath just from throwing punches.

"I dunno about him, but you were, Lola!" the gray-gloved talent scout shouted, laughing and counting his money in his head. The house was going to owe him big time for this one! Luckily, these S-A-T guys seemed to have bottomless money, somehow.

Speaking of bottomless, Lola was beginning to get the feeling she was going to be in dire straits if she didn't manage to knock Randy out. She circled around to get out of the corner, bouncing on her toes while holding a defensive stance, then effortlessly managed to reverse their positions. "Okay, Randy... I know you're a rookie and I really ought to be teaching you the right way to do an ARMS fight but just this once, I think I've got to do it a different way. So don't commit this to memory! Any of this, really. Th-The fight, or this part," she encouraged him, watching over the tops of her gloves. Before he could ask what she meant, Lola threw another arm out and, instead of punching, she wrapped his neck up in it and dragged him to the ground, placing the back of her palm on his skull to make sure he went down face first. When he was down, she scrambled to get on top of him, sitting down on his back while keeping his head wrapped to make sure he didn't get back up. She then held his right arm down with her free arm, ensuring he couldn't turn his body or throw a punch. "Honk heh heh! Your luck's finally run out!"

"I-I don't think you can clinch up like this in a real ARMS fight!" he protested, still thrashing to try to get free.

"Well, I don't usually have to deal with one-hundred wardrobe malfunctions every fight!" she reminded him. Her Funchuck whacked against his face as he continued to try and reposition his head. She didn't feel any more danger. "So... don't be mad, but, I'm going to have to **** you out, since punches don't seem to be working. I'm really sorry!"

"Ch-**** me?! You can't **** your opponent in an ARMS match!"

"I did say I'm sorry," she reminded him, then began pulling back on the arm wrapping his neck, sticking her tongue up out of one side while strangling her opponent. It was the most bizarre sight imaginable: the ordinarily kid-friendly popular fighter, Lola Pop, well-over half naked and strangling her opponent on the mat like she was a heel wrestler instead of a professional boxer.

—-----

Roll 5!

Outfit durability: 10/28 (fur eyepatch style bra on top, transparent lace panties over fur thong, loose stockings)