All-American Debut! Becky Brooke vs. Miss USA!

Becky was feeling it, as she started to clutch onto Miss USA's boots, ready to twist the masked woman into what she was sure would be a lethal camel clutch. Grinning from ear to ear, the blonde still couldn't believe she'd landed the dropkick! Maybe wrestling really was as easy professionally, as it had been back in all those bars and night clubs!

Lost in thought, Becky was snapped back to reality as she felt Miss USA's feet pull back, out of her fumbling grip. Becky leaned down, stumbling as her top-heavy figure began losing its balance. "Hey," she whined, "hold stillll~!"

Which didn't happen, of course. The Japanese-American woman's boots sank right into Becky's hard belly, meeting no resistance from the blonde. "HHOOOFFF!" Becky grunted, leaning into Miss USA's kick as she stumbled forward, all the air getting driven out of her lungs as Marilyn kicked her off.

"Guh!" Becky Brooke grunted, hitting the mat and ending up flat on her ass. Taking a moment to rub her sore bum, Becky was startled out of focusing on it with Miss USA's proclamation. "Hell, yeah!" she shouted, raising a fist in solidarity for their mutual flag-love, it not quite dawning on her that she was basically cheering on her opponent, by this point.

After driving Becky onto her back with her double booted kick, Marilyn tucked her legs up her chest and then thrust them out while pushing off the mat with her hands, executing a kip-up to return to a standing position quickly. The crowd would let out an impressed cheer at the sight of near six foot tall woman executing such a nimble move.

However, she didn't expect the other star spangled woman to call out support for her little taunt. Despite herself, Marilyn couldn't help but smile. Becky had a love for America that matched her own. In a way, the Iowan resembled the popular image those from outside the US had of American women: blond, exuberant, and full of spirit. Even though the half-Japanese girl took on the Miss USA persona to remind everyone of her country's many cultures coming together as one, to be a symbol of unity, Marilyn had to admit that Becky fit the 'classic' look of of the All-American woman.

She would let Becky have the time she needed to get back to a standing position.
"Back on your feet, Brooke...." she'd call out to the blonde using her last name. "You don't want to slack off while wearing those colors, do you?"

Once the other woman was back up, Marilyn put her hands out while advancing, offering Becky a chance to lock up with her in a test of strength....

Becky's ego (and her bottom) were both feeling a little bit bruised, as she sat back. All of that was forgotten, however, the moment Miss USA kipped up to her feet! Becky's jaw nearly hit the floor, watching the tall, athletic woman spring right back up to her feet, with seemingly no effort. Okay, she thought to herself, maybe there is a pretty big difference between the wrestlers here and the ones at the bars back home ...

When Miss USA challenged her back to her feet, though, Becky shook her head and started scrambling to get up. She was right, after all, those colors didn't belong on the mat, right? Damn, she thought, this lady would be super good at speeches! Biting her lip, Becky almost felt a twinge of guilt over what she was certain was going to be her inevitable dominating victory over this woman.

Becky saw the offered test of strength, and saw it as an opportunity to do her country proud! Her country, her parents, eagles, and anyone else watching back home! She was going to take it to this woman, and show her and all these fans what an All-American could do.

Becky rushed into the lock-up without hesitation. Throwing her entire body weight into it, Becky locked up and pushed hard. Her chest pressed flush against Marilyn's body, Becky gave it everything. The effort caused her body to quiver, and even if it became readily apparent to anyone with eyes that Miss USA had the clear advantage in strength and conditioning, none of that was going to make Becky back down. She was in this for the long haul, and she was far, far too convinced that sheer pluck and patriotism were going to see her through.

Miss USA grunted as Becky locked up with her, pushing back against the blonde. Their chests pressed together as she braced herself, muscles in her arms and legs flexing as she stood strong. The Iowan was strong, probably as strong as Marilyn was before she started training at the AFW development program. But the results of harsh training regiments and grueling workouts began to make themselves apparent as Marilyn displayed that she held the strength advantage.

Soon, she would begin forcing Becky down, slowly and surely towards a kneeling position on the mat. If she could force her opponent all the way down to her knees, Marilyn would give a "Yeah!" of triumph before raising her foot and put it against the blond's chest to try and push Becky onto her back. Then Marilyn would jump, looking to land in a sitting position on Becky's buxom chest, a move that would knock some wind out of her foe as well as start a pin!

Becky couldn't help but let out a long, low moan, as she strained herself against Miss USA in the test of strength. Left quivering, a thin shine of sweat beginning to show across her entire body, young Brooke could hardly believe what was happening. Without a doubt, the powerful masked woman was far stronger than any of the women the Iowan had faced down in the ring, over the years. Somehow, though, sheer American pluck just didn't seem to be giving her the win, here! How was this possible?

Trembling, Becky's legs started to buckle, and inevitable gave way. "No!" Becky whimpered, as things went more and more against her. Finally, Marily had Brooke on her knees, quivering as she tried and failed to power her way out of her humiliating position, on her knees, dominated. Becky's head slumped forward, resting against Miss USA's strong, lower abdomen. The Iowan had expended too much strength trying to fight back, leaving her momentarily drained and exhausted. The usually perky blonde was so spent, she simply sat there as Miss USA's boot planted itself hard into her soft chest. "Aaaooww!" she wailed, coming back to life a bit as the masked woman shoved off, knocking Becky flat on her back. Arms and legs spread eagle, Becky was easy picking as Miss USA jumped into the air, and came down hard onto her, landing square on her chest!

"Uuughhhnn!" Becky wailed, tears bursting from her eyes as her considerable bust was squashed under Miss USA's lean, well-muscled body. "Oww," she whimpered, "not fair!" The blonde just couldn't process it; how could someone so strong, be so agile and fast? It wasn't fair, she thought to herself. The ref came down to start a pin count, Becky trapped against the mat by Miss USA's seated drop.

"ONE!"

Becky's feet pounded against the mat, as her soft body squirmed and writhed beneath Miss USA. All of her instincts were to try and kick out, to escape the humiliation of being finished off so easily. But after failing the test of strength, and getting the wind knocked out of her by Marilyn's drop, Becky Brooke wasn't even sure if she had the strength left, to go on, no matter how hard she tried to kick out.

Marilyn grinned down at Becky as she sat down on the other girl's chest. She watched as the Iowan squirmed and thrashed beneath her so far to no avail to free herself from the pin attempt. Her confidence surged as she felt Becky's chest heave under her, but not enough for her shoulders to leave the mat.

"Two!" came the ref's shout as the count continued.

"Come on, Becky, you're not done yet, are you!?" she called down to the blonde teasingly. "Or are you all blonde and bluster?"

"Nuh-no!" Becky protested, still pumping her thick legs as she kicked an bucked her hips against Miss USA. The buxom blonde Iowan was having a hard time processing what was happening. Miss USA was seated on her dominantly, in position for what could be a very sudden and highly humiliating pinfall. But still, Becky fought back, not ready to completely give the match to the masked woman quite yet! She might be wearing a flag over her face, but Becky was American, dammit. American as balls. And she wasn't about to go down this easily.

With one final thrust of her hips against Marilyn's athletic figure, Becky thrust upward, and kicked out of the pin. Rolling her body upward, Becky got her shoulder off the mat before the referee could give the third count, and put the match to an end. "Tuh-totally," Becky gasped, chest heaving as she breathed deeply, from the effort, "totally not done! You are so, so totally in for it, you! Just as soon as I catch my breath ..."

Becky's sudden motion forced Miss USA to topple off of the blonde. She scrambled to her feet heading quickly over to Iowan.

"Sorry Brooke, but you're going to have to take a breather on your own time." she'd say as she reached down, grabbing Becky by her arm and using it to haul her to her feet.

Whipping Becky towards the ropes, Marilyn stood, readying herself. When the blonde came rebounding back towards her, the athletic Asian-American would squat down and then suddenly spring up in a standing high jump! The leap carried Miss USA way up, and when she lashed out with both feet in standing dropkick that would be at a height that would catch Brooke in the face before the purple haired woman landed on the mat!

Becky breathed a sigh of relief, as she managed to finally buck Miss USA's powerful body off of herself, and escape the pinfall. The ditzy Iowan's head was spinning, as she tried to recover as best she could, laid out on her shoulder. The flag-masked wrestler had been taking it to Becky like nothing she'd ever seen in the ring, before! "H-how can she even move like that?" Becky asked herself, as she struggled to get back to her boots, and get back to the match.

Pushing up onto her palms, Becky did a push up to get herself off the mat. Spreading her legs wide to get a good (though still wobbly, on spaghetti legs) base, Becky pushed herself up. Bum first, giving the audience a cheer-inducing view as she wiggled the rest of herself upright. "Okay, Becky," she told herself, through gritted teeth, "you've got this! For America!"

Becky spun around just in time to catch a face full of Miss USA's flying boots! "OH!" Becky gasped, in the second before contact. The Iowan was rocked by the blow stumbling back gracelessly, before tumbling into the ropes. Becky's body was hung up on the ropes, arms draped over the top while the rest of her dangled there limply. "Owwwiee ..." Becky whined, her entire face aching massively, red from the force of the impact. Brooke shook out her blonde locks, trying to push back the pain, before Miss USA could do something truly punishing to her.

The crowd gave a collective 'Oooohh!' of wonder at the sight of Miss USA's leap before she drop kicked Becky full in the face.

Landing on her side, the purple haired wrestler watched as the force drove her opponent into the ropes, draping her over them. Miss USA got back to her feet quickly wanting to stay on the attack. This is where she felt the most comfortable in a match, delivering a fast paced offensive.

Heading over to Becky, she double checked to make sure the blonde's arms weren't tangled in the ropes before applying a front face lock. Deciding to switch gears a bit, Marilyn would walk backwards a few steps, pulling the Iowan with her out of the ropes. Then she would seize a hold of Brooke's bikini at her hip, using it as a steadying hand hold. With a loud yell she would lift the blonde up and over in a snap suplex that would drive Becky's back against the mat, as well as having the side effect of making Becky ample bust bounce from the impact for a moment....