Verbally

"Dumb, dumb, stupid idiot." You need practice. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Between ragged breaths, the (now, presumably former) Champion stutters out and answer. "no... no, nonono... I was- oh, I was supposed to- to.... WINNN!! AGH!" Her hips buck up violently as another splash spreads across the room. Wow, she's such a good actress. She's not... really getting turned on by being degraded, is she?

You grab her by the chin, trying to make it look rough and mean but failing completely and ending up with it looking as gentle as it really is. "Thought I'd be an easy target, huh? Is that why you tried using your pathetically minute bosom to- what, knock me out? Thought you could just block up my face and down me, just like that? Take me out with nothing but your tiny piles of flesh?" You hope you aren't being too mean, body image is important. After the fight you'll tell her you didn't mean it and compliment her a bunch.

"N-no, I'm sorry... should've never.. tried to.... smother you........" The last words come out as a whisper as her head rolls to the side and her eyes shut, your grip on your jaw the only thing preventing it from falling open. Eep! You just knocked out the champion! She's really out cold! And in such an embarrassing way... this is terrible! Still, the show must go on.

"Aw, is the widdle baby all cummed out? Nothing left to give, huh?" You stand up, and mime dusting yourself off. Inside, half of you is jumping for joy, and the other half is actually really concerned for this girl. The audience is more on the jumping for joy side.

As you deliver your final embarrassment and stand, the audience erupts into cheers and whistles and applause. They all seem really in awe of the way you showed their champion up! It's a weird feeling....

Once all of the celebrations are done, and the audience has left, you're given your $450, and wait for Bombardier to wake up. After twenty minutes, she still hasn't, so you decide to just write her a apology note. Standing above her, you eye up her sleeping, weary features. You're responsible for this. You really did this to her. She is brought to such lows because of you.

In a brief moment of mischief, a smile crosses your face, and you ever-so-slowly bend over. You plant a gentle kiss on the sleeping giant's forehead, and gently press the letter in between her breasts, the slipped-in apology held tight to her chest by her bikini top, which you give a playful pull to let it snap back against her, earning you an **** moan from your toppled opponent. You don't even care that it's mean, you earned it!