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

Becky shook her little blonde head around a bit more, trying to work out the rest of the cobwebs. Before she could get herself back to being anywhere near ready to wrestle again, however, Miss USA was on top of her, hooking her with the front face lock and pulling her still-limp body off the ropes.

"Ah," grunted Becky, weakly trying to pull herself out of the hold. Before the buxom bikini-clad blonde knew what was happening, however, Marilyn had a firm grip on her bottoms, and used them to help lift the dizzied Brooke straight up into the air. "Ah, no!" Becky exclaimed, the realization dawning on her as to what was coming next."NO!"

Her protests did the self-styled all-American no favors, however, as Miss USA hoisted her up and over with ease. Becky could feel the rush of air over her body, the bikini bottoms digging into an uncomfortable wedgie as she was swung swiftly over her opponent and crashing down back-first to the mat!

"Aaaooww!" Becky wailed, arching her back in pain after her landing. She looked more than a bit pathetic, hands pressed hard into her lower back while her ample bust threatened to bounce right out of her top as she flopped around the mat in agony. Rolling over to her side, tears were forming at the edges of Becky's eyes. Desperately, she knew she needed a chance to get the coursing pain in her body- as well as her generous curves- back under control, and get back on the offensive!

And....wham!

Marilyn stood up with a grin after delivering the suplex.
"Oh yeah Becks, that just happened!" she called in response to the blonde's earlier yells as Miss USA had lifted her up.

Miss USA watched as Brooke rolled onto her side. As pleasant as it was for Marilyn to watch the Iowan's curvy body press against the restraints of that colorful outfit, she knew she had to take care of business. Striding over to where Becky lay, she would push her foot against her opponent's back, looking to roll her over onto her front. Then she would take a seat on the small of Becky's back, while lacing her hands under the blonde's chin and pulling up. Her basic version of the camel clutch was one of the few submission holds Miss USA had in her arsenal, and her choice about where to do it wasn't the greatest, for Becky wasn't in the center of the ring and within struggling distance to the ropes. However, the crowd did give a cheer at the sight of Becky's buxom chest straining against the front of her bikini as the hold made her arch her back...

"Owww," Becky whimpered, as Miss USA put the boot to her, rolling her over onto her front. Becky was easy enough to roll over, her body in overwhelming pain. Still, the American made her best go at crawling away, dragging her body along the mat on her belly, but was caught quickly by her masked opponent.

"ACK!" Becky exclaimed, as Marilyn pulled her head upright, and began to twist her into a punishing camel clutch! "Aaahh," the young Brooke moaned, as her spine and neck were twisted back on herself. Twisted and pulled, Becky's body was in total agony- her boots pounded hard against the mat in protest, causing her bum- half-exposed by the earlier wedgie that had led into the suplex- to jiggle vigorously. Becky's arms flailing about at her sides, while chest heaved in her top, as she struggled and pulled to get herself out of the submission hold. Miss USA's technique might have been basic, but it was certainly proving effective in its application!

"Aaaauuhnnnn," she groaned, looking through tear-strained eyes at the nearby ropes. Stretching her hand as far as she could, Becky reached for the ropes, knowing that a rope break was her only hope of escape. If she could, the Iowan would try to lean her entire body in that direction, giving absolutely everything she had to saving herself, to making it to those ropes before her spirit broke, before she had no choice but to utter a submission to her masked opponent.

Marilyn watched as Becky flailed wildly when the came clutch was first applied. The crawl forward that the Iowan had made before the masked wrestler took her seat on her back bought her precious inches that Miss USA in her own inexperience, didn't make up for by trying to drag her back towards the center of the ring. Still when Becky stretched out a hand, her fingers were just shy of the ropes.

When she heard Becky's pained groan, she looked down, seeing the other woman's eyes tearing up as she desperately looked at the ropes. "If it's too much, give up, and it'll be over.." she advised softly, leaning down to speak into Becky's ear.

She paused, shocked to her the words of Mikoto Kusanagi come from her own mouth. So this is what it felt like to be on other side of the equation. To have someone trapped in a hold that you know they should give in to, but they won't. To be forced to continued to basically torture someone simply because they didn't have the knowledge, or sense, to give up and save their self from serious injury. It felt horrible, and frustrating. Marilyn began to think perhaps the time had come to examine her 'don't ever submit' vow. Courage was good....but wrongful stubbornness not only put herself at risk, but also unfairly burdened the other person, who only wants to win...but maybe not feel like a monster afterwards.

However, Marilyn's assessment of Becky's chances turned out to be off. The blonde leaned forward, straining and reaching, and got her fingers up on the bottom rope. Miss USA broke the hold as soon as the ref yelled "Rope break!" and stood up. She would back off, leaving Becky on the mat to collect herself, until she was ready to come out of the ropes again. However, she was uncharacteristically quiet, thinking about the revelation that brief moment had given her...

While Becky squirmed and struggled, she could just barely make out Marilyn's taunting words. The thought of tapping out seemed incomprehensible to the blonde, but for some reason her masked opponent's taunt cut deep. Becky didn't want to lose, right? No! She just wanted the hurting to stop! And to maybe get her trunks pulled back down over her bare ass, before she looked like even more of a fool in front of this crowd! But submit? Not in her vocabulary!

Marilyn's pause gave Becky the opening that she so desperately needed, to squirm out to the ropes and earn herself a reprieve! Becky's fingers clasped hard at the bottom rope, making the referee force a break. Which Miss USA gave, of course, because she was wearing an American flag and therefore was a good person.

But, with the rope break, it seemed Miss USA was momentarily distracted. Becky realized she could have done the sensible thing, and taken that opportunity to recover. However, the blonde Iowan shook her head; the "sensible" thing to do and the "American" thing to do weren't often the same thing, of course! And there was no way that Becky Brooke was going to just lie back and rest, while her opponent was wasting time "thinking!"

"Hii-yah!" Beckly exclaimed, as she used her hands to brace her body against the ropes and thrust backward with her right leg. With all the strength she could muster, despite her exhausted body and her aching neck, Becky kicked back to deliver the strongest mule kick she could, right to Miss USA's toned, powerful belly!

The first lesson that was ever taught to Marilyn in the AFW's training camp was when you were in the ring, your mind was in the ring. Not daydreaming, and certainly not thinking about the moral implications of past behavior. She paid the price for not heeding that lesson.

Becky's boot slammed into her stomach. Unprepared for the blow, Miss USA was sent flying off her feet, landing on her back a short distance away from where she was. The wind knocked out of her, she coughed weakly a few times before taking deep breaths, rolling onto her side and curling up.

"Unngh....the fuck.?" she gasped out.

Becky grinned, as she felt her boot make contact with Miss USA's powerful figure. "YES!" she called out, pumping a fist into the air. Turning, the blonde was a bit dizzy, still, her body aching from the punishment that Marilyn had been inflicting on her the entire match. However, even the slightest opportunity for the Iowan to turn things around was enough to give her a surge of adrenaline, a burst of energy. She knew she had to make this opening count.

Patting her hip to "prep" herself, Becky sized up her downed opponent. Grinning, she waited for Miss USA to start getting back upright, even just to a knee. Overcome with excitement, Becky started tapping her foot on the mat, making her entire body jiggle and quiver with the excess energy that was positively radiating off of her.

As soon as Miss USA was in position, Becky would unload on her with a sharp thrust kick, looking to plant her boot right upside the flag-masked woman's head! Becky knew there was no way it would finish Miss USA- she was wearing a flag, for God's sake!- but it would certainly be a huge coup for the buxom blonde, and maybe the start of a comeback! That could totally happen, Becky assured herself. Right? Right?

Marilyn was finally getting her breath back after being blindsided by that donkey kick.

*Alright, that sucked. That'll teach me to take my mind off of business. But I need to get up! Up, girl!* she thought at herself.

She started to rise to her feet, looking around for Becky. And she found her.

Right before the blonde's foot caught her in the side of the head! The blow sent Miss USA back down to the mats with a brief cry of pain. She lay face up, looking at the arena lights as the world seemed to spin about. Inwardly, she began to despair. It was happening again. She was having a good match, possibly on her way to winning it, only to have things fall apart just when things seemed the brightest!

No, she needed to focus. Becky had dug down and turned this around, she could do the same. Marilyn reached up, putting a hand to her masked head, shaking it in an attempt to clear it as continued to lay on the mat....

Becky's felt a chill run through her entire body, as her boot planted hard against the side of Miss USA's head. The fans gave out a surprised cheer, as the flag-masked woman dropped to the mat. Becky alone was left standing, to even her own surprise. Jaw slacked, staring with wide blue eyes down at her felled opponent, Becky could hardly believe she'd managed to take the athletic, powerful Miss USA down.

A chill ran through her spine, causing Becky's soft figure to give a sharp jiggle. "Y-you're in for it, now!" she declared, her high-pitched voice quivering. Reaching down, Becky scooped up both of Marilyn's feet, pulling her powerful legs upright. Then, she slid a leg between them, and delivered a sharp stomp to the toned abs of Miss USA, trying to drive all the air she could out of the purple-haired woman's body, hoping to set her up for her next, punishing move!

With that, Becky would jump up, dropping Marilyn's legs as she sailed over her body. Legs kicked up, the young Brooke would sail over her opponent's prone form, trying to land a leg drop, right across Miss USA's face. Becky would make the hit with her thick, curvy thigh, dropping a good deal of her body weight onto her opponent. If that landed, Becky would shimmy her hips, settling down her soft leg onto her opponent's face, trying to settle onto Marilyn for a pinfall attempt!

When Becky stomped down on her stomach, Marilyn would let out a sharp yell of pain, clutching her abdomen with her hands.

And it turned out the blonde wasn't done with her yet. Becky vaulted over her, slamming her leg down over Miss USA's face with a legdrop! The hit drew another yell of pain from her, even if this one was muffled by Becky's thick thigh.

The ref slid into position, seeing Marilyn's shoulders on the mat.

"One!"