Physically

As much as you don't want to be mean, if you're going to be a warrior then you need the practice of using your body. You look over her body, lingering on her panties and incredibly wet thighs and midsection. You lick your lips. Wait, why did you do that?

...

You're not dirty.

Lips just dry.

Ready for any excuse to get out of that train of self-accusatory thought, you get back to your combat assessment. If you did this to her with just a few gentle touches, then you can't wait to see what happens when you start rubbing, and don't stop. So, you do. And, as expected, you have the champion stuck in a never-ending loop and screaming and creaming as her fluid flies out of her bucking hips once again, catching a number of audience members in the splash zone now. You can almost hear them recounting the tale of the time they saw the Bombardier felled, rubbed off so well that her ejaculate reached their very lips.

Speaking of the Bombardier, her reaction, while immense, isn't really that different from her last reaction. You guess that there's nowhere to go from the top, so you rub her a while longer -- wow, she must drink a lot of water, how can she have this much juice to spare? -- until you finally have had your fill. She's conquered, it's not like there's any reason to do anything more but play with her.

Still, with that done and the Champion of the ring strewn across the mat she just watered, you don't really want to show her up anymore by doing this to a K.O. or playing with her nice boobies. Settling to instead win the match by pinfall, you get up from your kneeling position and take a hold of her arm to drag her into the ring's centre- woah, hang on, why's she spraying everywhere again?!

You let go of her arm and let it drop to the floor so that you can use your hands to protect your face. You guess she must've been having some lewd thoughts...

Regardless, taking up her arm again, you go to drag her and- OH COME ON, AGAIN?!

Try as you might, every time you try to drag her to the ring's centre, she's cumming for you. You really don't want to knock her out! This needs some thinking. Maybe if you dragged her by the leg- AH! No, that didn't work, that just put you right in the line of fire. Hmmm....

Oh. Oh, no, wait a second....

You look over to her with shock in your eyes, as she mindlessly babbles to the ceiling too quietly for you to hear. You can't have, could you...?

Walking over to her, you test your theory by gently tapping your finger once against her neck.

"ANGHH!!" She lets out a throaty moan as her hips buck up and another spray escapes her.

Oh no. You were right. You've must have overdone it... every touch has her cumming! You ruined the Champion of the ring!

You've heard about stories like this, a person getting so cummed out that any human contact sets them off again. It normally lasts for a few months, but sometimes it can be years, and you can't think of anybody that's cummed like she just did before...

*gulp*

You... may actually have just ruined the Bombardier. You came into her ring as a novice, and might have just ended her career, and crippled her for at least the next few months. Every time she gets a hug, every time she's tapped on the shoulder, every time she's pushed or hit or bumped in the street....

Well, there's nothing you can do for her now but wish her a speedy recovery. And end this fight, you don't want it to go on any longer than it has to.

You look left and right, as if searching for witnesses, before realising that you're surrounded by a sold-out audience and being filmed by live cameras broadcasting across the city. Oh yeah. Well, sheepishly, you raise up your foot and set it down gently on her chest between her tits, holding it there as she spasms and cums, until her eyes roll up into her head and her moaning stops. You quickly retract your foot and look over your conquest as she slowly breathes deeply in her slumber. Yikes.

Well, a win is a win, and the audience sure doesn't seem displeased as they stand up and roar at the sight of their champion being completely owned by this pink-clad combatant. You smile nervously and wave out towards them, slowly turning so that you can see everybody. You do hope they enjoyed the show...

You're given your $450, an offer to return, a huge pat on the back, and you head back into Town, looking for your next course of action. The Bombardier would have a tough, and embarrassing, three months, but being a fighter her body is way more resilient than most people's and she will end up making her recovery. She'll never forget about the pink girl who completely squashed her -- in fact, she'll spend not a few nights thinking about it in very close detail.