Odessa Brock vs. Emily Nelson

England vs. Scotland: The Battle of Nations

To win, one wrestler must strip her opponent naked and elicit a verbal submission. The loser must then pay her respects to the winnerâ€s flag.

Tonight, Odessaâ€s normal music would not play as she entered. Instead, when it was time for the ebony beauty to appear at the top of the entrance ramp, the audience would be treated to a loud, spirited rendition of “Jerusalem” as she marched down towards the ring. She had briefly considered using “God Save the Queen” as her entrance music tonight, but, since her Scottish foe was a fellow citizen under the crown—for a few days more, at the very least—she had chosen instead a song that stood for English pride alone. Around her shoulders was draped an English flag, the St. Georgeâ€s Cross standing out in bright red on the white field.

Odessa was wearing her usual costume, a tight-fitting leotard, long gloves, and thigh-high boots that highlighted her height and her impressive figure. As she climbed into the ring, she would slide the flag from her shoulders and hold it in front of her, waving it and getting the few English citizens in the audience pumped for the match to come. The idea for it had been born in a bar, as something of a drunken bet, based on misplaced anger and nationalistic stubbornness. Odessa hoped that she could make amends with Emily…after the match. Right now, her focus would be on humiliating the Scotswoman, stripping her naked, and forcing her to pay her respects to the English flag.

For a few moments, there was silence as Odessa stood up on the ring, the crowd hushing and whispering to one another as they wondered when Emily would show up. For a few seconds, there were even a few whispers that Emily had bailed out on this match. They were quickly proven wrong when, out of nowhere, a shrill, shrieking sound flooded the arena.



Instead of her usual music, Emily's arrival was heralded by the sound of bagpipes playing "Battle on the Tyne" on the sound system. The fans cheered as Emily strode resolutely into arena. She was wearing her usual tight-fitting fuschia attire that clung to her powerful figure, but around her shoulders was draped a flag in the blue and white of the Saint Andrew's Cross. More noticeably, for the first time ever, the Scotswoman wore a kilt as she made her entrance, a [url=http://www.tartanregister.gov.uk/tartanImagePrototype.aspx?ref=3951&width=750&height=750&resize=no&shadows=yes&threadsize=4:1lv4y1ze]red and black tartan[/url:1lv4y1ze] in the colours of the Neilson clan.

As her fans cheered, Emily paid them no heed as she made her way to the ring. A part of her deeply regretted agreeing to this match-- not because she was afraid of Odessa at all, but because a strip match was far, far beneath her dignity. But she had accepted the challenge all the same. There was no way she could not-- not with her nation's honour on the line.

Sliding into the ring, Emily stood up to her full height, before staring across the ring at Odessa. The cheering began to slowly die down as the two women glared coldly and silently at one another...

Odessa winced as the bagpipes began to sound throughout the arena. She considered herself someone with quite an open mind, especially when it came to music. She had listened to the bagpipes before and had even found a number of the songs rather pleasant. But right now, this particular piece sounded like a whole flock of geese simultaneously being drowned by a thousand shrieking cats. Odessa would do her best to tune it out as she focused on Emily. Her Scottish opponent made her way quickly and silently down to the ring, glaring at Odessa all the while. Odessa would glare back, but would allow the corner of her mouth to turn upwards in a small smirk as the two of them stared each other down from across the ring, each with her own countryâ€s flag around her shoulders.

The match was the ultimate battle for national pride and honor, and it was going to be a good one, as one woman would be, for the moment, anyway, completely stripped of her pride, losing her clothes and being forced to grovel at the other womanâ€s feet. Odessa had no intention of losing this fight, but the thought of being forced into submission like that rubbed a proud, dominant woman like Odessa the wrong way.

The referee girl climbed into the ring shortly thereafter, and began reading off the rules into a microphone, for the benefit of both the wrestlers and the audience. Odessa would keep her eyes on Emily, waiting to see what the Scotswoman would do.

Emily remained silent as the ref girl read the rules, more or less repeating what Emily already knew. She winced a little at the mention of the stripping-- she had no wish to be reminded of that unfortunate clause-- but otherwise, she knew that this was going to be a rough match. Neither of them were going to be walking away until one woman had been stretched, twisted or cranked beyond her limits of endurance, and Emily was determined that it wasn't going to be her.

Slowly, she slid the Scottish flag off her shoulders, revealing her tight fuschia one-piece fully to the audience. "Last chance tae back away, Brock," she said as she stared he ebony opponent down. "Because this won't be ending until I've made ye give."

Odessa was definitely more comfortable with the stripping than her opponent was, but, regardless of that one little stipulation, this was not going to be a hentai match. Even if they were both naked, Odessa was not going to let up and was going to do her best to grind Emily down, stretch her out, and force her to admit defeat and pay some reparations for her attitude that night earlier in the week.

Odessa would slide the English flag off of her shoulders and would hand it carefully to one of the AFW staff members behind her. It would be kept in sight in her corner of the ring during the match. Once she had won, Odessa would bring it out again and utilize it in Emilyâ€s punishment. Once she had broken the Scottish woman down and forced her to grovel, Odessa was confident that she could wring an apology out of her paler-skinned fellow Briton. The ebony beauty put her hands on her hips as she watched Emily remove the kilt and the Scottish flag to show off her fuchsia leotard.

“You can try,” Odessa would retort, smirking at her opponent, “but youâ€ll never hear even a syllable of a surrender from me. Iâ€ll make you be a good girl and admit your defeat, though, nice and loudly for all to hear. So long as you arenâ€t scared, what say we get this started, hmm, darling?”