Well, finally here it is, about 18 months later than originally planned, Ellen’s final fight in the ring at CLAWS, almost 35 years after she first stepped through the ropes to face Lesley O’Dowd. But who will be her final opponent? All will be revealed if you read on.
Friday, April 1st, 2022 and it’s fight night at CLAWS. Tonight, it’s the turn of the senior lady wrestlers but there’s also an added attraction on this special, ladies only, evening. The ring room at Marshall’s gym is packed with female fight enthusiasts, many of whom have fought in this ring themselves, who have come to watch me, Ellen Shaw, celebrate my 60th birthday by taking on a mystery opponent in my last ever fight.
Before I step into the ring for that fight, I will be second to the senior wrestlers fighting out of the blue corner. My charges tonight are my two 48-year-old protégés, Sue Barton and Lynne Newell, and the 44-year-old feline blonde from North Wales, Mair Evans. Sue will be taking on 43-year-old Stacey Williams, the CLAWS secretary, Mair will face 40-year-old Kelly Wilson and Lynne will be getting to grips with the 54-year-old former senior champion, Terri Brooks.
But first let’s rewind to the day after my shock three-nil defeat at the hands of Auntie Terri, three weeks earlier. It was Saturday morning and Carrie and I were in the shop together. Being mid-March things were quiet; it would be another month before things picked up as the tourists returned for the Easter break. With no customers to speak of we were stock taking, checking our suppliers for new product lines and generally chatting about what we planned for our customers over the summer. Suddenly Carrie changed the subject:
“Ellen, were you fighting again last night?”
“Yes, Carrie, I was.”
“Oh Ellen, I thought you’d promised to give it up.”
“I have and I’ll stick to that promise. My next fight will be my last – I promise you.”
“And when will that be?”
“In three weeks, on my birthday.”
“Okay, but you promise this will be the last time?”
“Yes, I promise.”
Carrie was silent for a minute and then asked:
“Who were you fighting last night?”
“An old friend. I promised her that we’d fight one last time before I stopped. And, before you ask, I lost – badly.”
I felt a tear forming in the corner of my eye. Carrie must have seen it too because she reached over and placed her hand on my arm.
“Oh Ellen, I’m sorry. Are you okay? If you’re in pain you can go home, I’ll look after the shop.”
“No, no, I’m fine. It’s just my confidence that’s taken a beating.”
We lapsed into silence for a few minutes and then Carrie asked a question I hadn’t expected:
“Ellen, can I come and watch you fight on your birthday? I know you’re giving up fighting for me but I also know it means a lot to you. I want to try and understand why you do it.”
I could have kissed her. All these years and all I’d ever wanted to do was share my passion with my baby sister. Finally, she was asking if she could come and see what it was all about.
“Of course you can honey. You can even be my second if you like. Just promise me you won’t get upset, even if I lose or get hurt.”
“Okay, I promise and, yes, I’d love to be your second, just tell me what I have to do.”
Well, that was a turn up. I spent the next hour or so explaining what a second had to do and that evening, over a glass of prosecco, I showed her a couple of videos of my fights – taking care to show the ones where I was victorious and things weren’t too violent, no sense in scaring her off now. I was excited; my baby sister was finally going to see me in action at CLAWS.
**********************
Okay, let’s get back to the events of April 1st. The first round of the senior tournament had produced a surprising result. Rookie Lynne was currently leading the field after knocking out Stacey in her first ever match while a simple mistake had cost veteran Terri a win over Kelly and left both of them in joint third place. Tonight, the pair would face each other and I had no doubt that both would be looking for a win. Before that there were two other battles to be fought.
The referee for tonight’s tournament matches would again be Clare Forbes, the petite busty blonde who had won the league title some 23 times. Clare should have, by rights, been a senior champion herself but never managed to finish higher than 3rd place. Now in her sixties, Clare had given up fighting several years ago and had now taken up the referee’s role.
First in the ring tonight from my team was Sue. Although I had only known her a few months I was impressed by Mrs. Barton. Like me fifteen years ago, she was an older woman returning to her passion after many years away. Like me she was a large lady and a powerful fighter. But there the similarity ended. While I had been recruited to CLAWS (stalked?) by Jay Marchant and never knew anything else, Sue had stumbled upon a fight between Jan Somerville and Pauline Grainger which led to her joining the underground scene, fighting in a variety of places with differing rules and styles.
Sue was the heaviest of the senior fighters and had made that weight advantage tell in her first-round fight against Mair, who, at five inches taller, towered over the buxom redhead. Stacey, her opponent tonight, was heavier than Mair but the same height as Sue and still giving away 15lbs to the big redhead. I had expected Sue to make short work of the CLAWS secretary so I was somewhat surprized when Stacey took the first fall after Sue made a relatively amateur mistake and allowed the younger blonde to pin her.
It was to be Stacey’s only success in the match. Sue returned to our corner extremely pissed off and determined to make ‘the little slut’, as she called her opponent at that moment, pay. Poor Stacey, experienced fighter as she was, she stood no chance against the angry redhead. A blizzard of power moves and painful holds, punctuated by two brutal submissions, followed before the former CLAWS champion decided she’d had enough and threw in the towel after less than 10 minutes of action. The win took Sue’s tournament points total to 7 and put her in first place for this round, a position she would hold onto unless Lynne managed to knock Terri out.
Next into the blue corner was Mair, the tall, feline blonde from North Wales. Like me, Mair had spent her entire fighting career at CLAWS. Between 2005 and 2017 she won 11 title fights and retired as an undefeated champion. This was her second senior wrestling tournament. Last time she had finished the year a creditable 3rd. After one round of this year’s tournament, she was in joint 3rd place with Terri Brooks and her opponent tonight, Kelly Wilson.
Like Mair, Kelly had had a long and illustrious career in the CLAWS league and the pair had met six times with the honours being even. Unlike Mair, it was a case of ‘never the bride’ for Kelly who, after some early title wins in the 2010 and 2011 season, never managed to regain the title despite fighting another 50 matches on the CLAWS league. She also took part in fights at the NBFC both on her own and in a tag team with her aunt and mentor, Mitzi McLean.
With such a history between them this was likely to be a close and exciting match. And so it proved to be. Kelly took the lead in the fourth minute after trapping Mair in a small package pin. Mair returned the compliment three minutes later and went ahead with an arm bar submission after 10 minutes. A titanic struggle then ensued until, in the 14th minute, Kelly succeeded in pinning the big blonde a second time to even score.
Like Kelly’s previous match with Terri, the encounter seemed to be heading towards a draw as the clock ticked towards the 20-minute time limit. But then, with just seconds remaining on the clock, Mair manage to trap Kelly in a grapevine from which there was no escape. Struggle she may, Kelly could not dislodge the bigger woman on top of her and Clare counted out the pin to give Mair her first win of the tournament. When she came to announce the result, Clare revealed just how close things had been:
“Ladies, after 19 minutes and 20 seconds, the fifth and final fall, by a pin, goes to Mair. Mair wins by three falls two.”
The win briefly put the Welsh girl in second place, two points behind Sue and one point ahead of Lynne. But now it was time for Lynne and Terri to get in the ring together. When it came to these two my loyalties were definitely divided. On the one hand, my big busty blonde protégé for whom I had such high hopes. On the other hand my former nemesis and the woman who in recent times had become one of my closest friends, a woman who in my opinion had been unfairly denied a title in the final of the previous tournament by the cheating Judy Parsons.
We are, as I always like to remind you, women of a certain age. We are not young, nubile starlets. We are mature, voluptuous and sexy MILFs. And none of us is more voluptuous or sexier than Lynne Newell, a 48-year-old woman with a body to die for. Every curve of her body screams sex. I still can’t believe that the reason she tracked me down and challenged me to a fight was because her husband preferred watching this old battle-axe being beaten up to grappling with the sexpot he was married to. Of course, that changed the moment Lynne stepped into the ring and, as I had assured her, fulfilled his every fantasy. I knew he would be watching the live stream of this match on his big screen TV with his pants around his ankles and his todger in his hand.
The two fighters made a striking contrast as they stood in the centre of the ring while Clare introduced them. To her right Clare had the buxom, shapely 48-year-old blonde Lynne, clad in royal blue sports briefs, and to her left the tall, toned 54-year-old brunette Terri, wearing the white cotton panties with the red heart motif which had become her signature outfit recently.
My loyalties had never been so divided. I wanted Terri to win her title back but I also wanted Lynne to do well. Both women had a weakness and, because Terri had been joining my training sessions with Lynne and Sue and the pair had gone head-to-head on more than one occasion, both women knew the other woman’s Achilles heel was. For Terri it was an irrational fear of big busty women and breast smothers – and they didn’t come much bigger than Lynne. For Lynne it was inability to control the sexual urges that invariably resulted in her orgasming during her fights. If she could control that, as she had barely managed to do in her two previous fights (one at the NBFC and one in this tournament), she stood a good chance of defeating the older, more experienced fighter. But Terri was an expert getting women excited and I had no doubt she would use every trick in the book to try and force Lynne to cum and score a knockout of victory.
Sure enough, from the opening bell, both women seem to focus on their opponents’ weaknesses, Terri looking to getting close and stimulate the busty blonde, Lynne taking full advantage of Terri’s proximity and pulling her face into her cleavage every time the opportunity presented itself.
The action was fast and furious; they fought on their feet, then on the mat and then back on their feet. Both showed off a few power moves and both took blows to the boobs and knees to the pussy. Neither was giving an inch but, eventually, one of them was going to get the upper hand and take the first fall.
Much to my surprise it was my blonde protégé who scored first. After about four minutes of action Lynne managed to trap Terri in a side headlock and pushed the brunette’s face into the tit meat of her left boob, cutting off her air supply. That was enough for the older woman and she frantically waved her submission.
The bell sounded and Lynne released the hold and Terri dropped to one knee, gasping for breath. My heart went out to Terri but my praise was all for Lynne as she made her way back to our corner, glistening with sweat and grinning from ear to ear. When she reached me, she could hardly contain herself:
“Ellen, I did it, I did it, I made her submit with my tits!”
“I know, honey. You did great, just do it twice more and you’ll have her licked.”
“I’d quite like her to lick me.” She said, her expression taking on a faraway look.
“Easy Lynne, you’re fighting her, not fucking her. You can win this; just don’t let her get you turned on. I’m sure if you ask her she’ll give you a good seeing to in private some time.”
As she sat on the stool and wiped Lynne’s body with the towel and praised her on her performance so far. I couldn’t help but notice that her nipples were already hard; fighting the big brunette was definitely getting her hot.
Clare announced the fall to the crowd: “Ladies, after four minutes and 20 seconds the first fall, by a submission, goes to Lynne.”
Lynne punched the air and I looked across at Terri in the red corner, being ministered to by Emily. She looked tired and I wondered if she’d been indulging in more ‘extra-curricular’ activities between her tournament matches. The beating she’d taken at the hands of Rose Dawson should have taught her a lesson but Terri is insatiable, both when it comes to sex and fighting, and I wouldn’t put it past her to have been in the ring, or in bed, with some worthy opponent.
When Sallie, the timekeeper, called seconds out for the second fall Terri seemed to have recovered her composure and moved swiftly to lock up with Lynne and take her to the mat, clearly looking for a quick equalising pin. But Lynne was wise to the move and managed to buck the brunette off.
For the next three minutes or so they wrestled for advantage on the mat. Time and again Lynne tried to use her bulk to pin the brunette to the mat but each time Terri managed to wriggle free and reverse the hold. I lost track of the number of times Clare counted to two only for one or other woman to lift their shoulder from the mat at the last moment. All that wriggling and rubbing together was undoubtedly getting Lynne excited and I suspected that was part of Terri’s strategy, get the blonde hot and then deliver some power move with a well-placed grope to push her over the edge.
Eventually Terri broke free and got to her feet. Lynne remained on the mat for a moment, taking a five count before rolling over, coming to one knee and, eventually, getting to her feet and offering her hands, palm first, to the tall brunette.
They locked fingers in a trial of strength and fought for dominance. Initially Terri’s height advantage seemed to give her the edge but as she pushed forward their bodies came together. Nipples rubbed nipples and pussies rubbed pussies through the fabric of their panties. Slowly but surely, Lynne forced the taller woman back and then suddenly, deploying a trick I’d taught her, hooked a foot behind Terri’s ankle sending them both crashing to the mat with the blonde on top.
Lynne could have gone for a grapevine pin but instead she eased forward until she was sitting on Terri’s belly and then lowered her huge orbs onto the older woman’s face with the inevitable outcome. For the second time Terri’s frantic slapping of Lynne’s shoulder signalled her submission, and the match wasn’t even at the mid-way point yet.
Lynne returned to our corner looking as pleased as Punch and extremely aroused. I could barely believe it myself. Here was a woman who had only set foot in a ring for the first time six months earlier completely dominating one of the best wrestlers I’d ever known.
Clare confirmed what we all knew as she announced: “Ladies, after seven minutes and 30 seconds, Terri has submitted for a second time. Lynne leads by two falls to nil.”
Lynne sat in the corner grinning like a Cheshire cat as I wiped the sweat from her body. Her nipples were now fully erect and she shuddered as I brushed the towel against them. The crotch of her navy-blue sports briefs was dark with moisture and I knew it wasn’t just sweat. Lynne was excited as hell and it wouldn’t take too much to push her over the edge.
I know Terri and I knew that, while she would be demoralised by being two falls down and desperate to keep away from Lynne’s big bazookas, she was far from finished. When I’m two falls down I usually lose heart and, inevitably, the match. But Terri is a fighter. When she’s two falls down (something that happens very rarely) she goes all out and usually wins by a knockout.
I didn’t need to remind Lynne of that, she’d seen enough footage of Terri in action and sparred with her often enough, but I did so anyway. Not that it made any difference. Lynne was fighting the best match of her short career against the most experienced opponent she’d ever faced and she too was going all out for the win.
I glanced across at the red corner. Terri did not look happy. In fact, she looked extremely pissed off. Despite her seemingly easy-going demeanour, Terri has a tendency to beat herself up if things aren’t going well. I had no doubt she was giving herself a good talking to and was determined to get back into the fight. I warned Lynne and wished her luck as Sallie called seconds out for the third fall, Could Lynne really pull off a whitewash against someone as experienced as Terri?
Sadly, for Lynne the short answer was and emphatic “no”. From the opening bell of the third fall Terri changed up a gear and gave Lynne a master class in why she was one of the best topless fighters still in the ring. Throws and slams were punctuated with repeated attacks on Lynne’s pussy and tits. No erogenous zone went untouched as Terri did her utmost to turn Lynne on and beat her up at the same time. For her part Lynne seemed completely helpless, fighting her own urges was draining her and she didn’t have the strength to fight off the marauding brunette’s attacks as well.
After about three minutes of relentless assault, Terri whipped Lynne into a neutral corner where the dazed blonde slumped against the turn buckles, her arms over the top rope barely holding her up. Terri walked up to the barely conscious and highly aroused Lynne, kissed her and slipped her right hand down the front of the blonde’s sports briefs. Lynne let out a low moan.
Terri grabbed hold of Lynne’s neck and crotch, hoisted her in the air, turned around, dropped to one knee and brought the blonde down heavily on her raised knee in an over the knee back breaker. Lynne screamed in pain.
Terri held her in place, her hand down the front of the blonde’s pants. Lynne’s cried turned from pain to ecstasy as the inevitable orgasm coursed through her. Terri rolled the blonde off her knee and stood up, stepping back into the neutral corner as Clare moved in to deliver a count to the fallen MILF.
And that, as they say, was that, Lynne’s moment of glory was over. She lay on the canvas, moaning and writhing with pleasure as Clare counted to 10 and the bell sounded to signal the end of the fight. Terri raised her hands in victory as Lynne spasms slowly subsided. After about a minute she staggered to her feet, looking drunk and dazed. Clare took her by the hand and waved Terri to join them in the centre of the ring before announcing:
“Ladies, after ten minutes and 40 seconds, Lynne having failed to beat my count, your winner, by a knockout, is Terri Brooks.”
There was a lot of applause and cheering for Terri before Clare continued:
“And your gallant loser, Lynne Newell.”
Again, applause and cheering and, in my mind, I pictured Ricky at home, in front of his huge TV, trousers around his ankles and his own jism all over his belly and, quite possibly, the settee. I had no doubt Lynne would be desperate for a screw when she got home, I just hoped that Ricky boy had held something in reserve for her.
Clare continued her announcement: “After two rounds of our senior tournament Sue is leading with 7 points, Lynne and Terri are in joint second place with 6 points, Mair is fourth on 5 points, Kelly has 4 points and Stacey has 2 points. Ladies, that concludes our senior tournament round for this evening. There will now be a short pause, please take a moment to empty your bladders and recharge your glasses before the main event of the evening.”
I helped the still euphoric Lynne out of the ring and down to her seat next to Sue, where she settled, seemingly unembarrassed by the sticky wet patch clearly showing on her blue briefs. I then headed to the blue corner dressing room for one of the fastest changes of outfit in history.
Just a couple of minutes later I was back on the ring apron by the blue corner, dressed in a long blue robe and accompanied by Carrie. Clare had left the ring and her place had been taken by the CLAWS president, Jay Marchant, who now addressed the audience:
“As I’m sure you all know, we have one remaining fight for you this evening and I am honoured to say that I have been asked to referee it. Let me introduce you to one of our combatants in this match, our former league and senior wrestling champion Ellen Shaw, who would like to say a few words to everyone.”
I slipped through the ropes, carefully pulling my robe about me and walked to the centre of the ring, where I turned to address the crowd of women, many of whom had become friends of mine over the years. Carrie watched me from the corner.
“Ladies,” I began, “today is my 60th birthday. The lady over there in my corner is my baby sister, Carrie, and I have promised her that today will be my last ever fight. She has agreed to be my second for this match. I thought long and hard about the person who should be my opponent in my final fight, but in the end, there was only one choice. A woman who has become a dear friend of mine over the last few years. A woman who has helped me fulfil my dreams of rematches with some of the women who took my title from me in years gone by, and never gave me the chance to fight them again. The woman who has invited me to fight at her club to settle scores with people I didn’t feel I could fight here at CLAWS. Ladies, please welcome to the ring former CLAWS league champion and president of the NBFC, Sian Ryan!”
(If you’re a fan of my stories and you didn’t see that coming, shame on you.)
With that the door to the red corner dressing room open, and Sian and Shannon walked out to the applause of the audience. They crossed to the red corner and climbed up onto the ring apron. Sian discreetly pulled her long red robe around her as she stepped through the ropes and joined me and Jay in the middle of the ring. I looked at Jay and nodded, she continued:
“Ladies, Ellen and Sian have not fought at CLAWS since Ellen won the title from Sian, 35 years ago. Tonight, they have agreed to fight using the same rules they fought in their last match under. This will be a best of five falls contest for over eight 3-minute rounds. Both women will fight completely naked.”
With that Sian and I simultaneously slipped off our robes, revealing our naked bodies, and passed them to Jay who continued:
“Ellen is 60 years old, happy birthday Ellen, is 5 feet 7 inches tall, weighs 165lbs and measures 38D-30-42.”
I raised my arms and the audience applauded as Jay went on to say:
“Sian is 57 years old, 5 feet 5 inches tall, weighs 155lbs and measures 38C-28-40.”
Sian did a little curtsey to the crowd and, possibly for the first time since I entered the ring all those years ago, I felt a little self-conscious. My boobs were sagging, my belly was bigger than it should have been (30 inches was a very generous measurement for my waist, my muffin top was probably more like 32) and, although I couldn’t see it, I was aware of the cellulite on my bum and thighs.
By comparison, while the out-door life had done little for her complexion, Sian’s body was still toned from her farm work. Her breasts were firm and her belly tight while her legs and arms were muscular, not flabby like mine. I had trimmed my bush for the fight but Sian had clearly gone further and waxed her nether regions. Her pussy looked as smooth as a baby’s bum and I felt positively hairy by comparison.
There was no need for a briefing. We knew the rules. We’d been here before. Jay glanced at us in turn and said:
“Ladies, are you ready?”
We nodded and returned to our corners for a final word with our seconds. A minute later Sallie pressed the plunger to start the counter and the bell for the opening round rang. Carrie leaned over the top rope, whispered ‘good luck’ in my ear and kissed me on the cheek and I advanced towards Sian across the ring. She closed on me, a smile on her face, eyes twinkling hands raised ready to lock up. I offered her my palms, and we came together in the centre of the ring in a trial of strength.
I knew what Sian would want to do here, and I wasn’t about to deny her. We pushed against each other. Our bodies coming together; our breasts and pussies rubbing against each other’s. The sensuality was unmistakable. If it wasn’t for the three-minute time limits on the rounds, I had no doubt this fight would be over very quickly with one or other of us experiencing a violent orgasm
For the next 90 seconds or so we struggled for supremacy, our naked bodies press together each seeking to dominate the other. Sweat began to flow and we started breathing hard. Then our lips met and Sian gave me a long French kiss. I felt myself starting to blush, and the juices beginning to flow between my legs. Cheeky cow! I didn’t know how she was feeling, but if it carried on much longer like this, it was going to be me who had a violent orgasm and lost the fight.
While she was distracted with the kiss I twisted my body, breaking her hold and taking us both to the mat, me on top and her underneath. Our hands broke apart but, before I could react, I felt her fingers in my snatch. Less than two minutes into the fight and, while I may have been on top, I was being sexually dominated.
There was nothing for it but to relinquish my dominant position before things got out of control. I quickly rolled clear and scramble to my feet. Sian lay on her back for a moment, catching her breath. Jay began counting over her as I moved to the neutral corner. At four, Sian sat up, got to her feet and we faced off again. This time we circled arms hanging loose and wide by all sides before coming together in a classic shoulder and elbow lock up.
This was more like it. Classic wrestling. The sort of thing we used to do back in the day. Being a couple of inches taller than Sian and 10lb heavier I was able to use that weight advantage to twist her and throw her to the mat. I dropped across her boobs and used my right arm to hook her right leg up in the air as Jay dropped the mat and counted:
“One… two…”
Sian managed to raise her left shoulder. I adjusted my position and Jay counted again as she did so. I stuck the fingers of my right hand into Sian’s pussy to confirm my suspicion that she was as wet as I was. What I didn’t realise was how ready she was. Jay counted the pin again:
“One…Two…”
As she went to count to three Sian squealed as a small orgasm coursed through her, not the violent eruption I’d expected but, quite clearly, she came as the bell sounded. I released the hold and got to my feet walking back to my corner leaving Sian there on the mat recovering. After a few seconds she got to her feet and staggered over to the red corner. I sat on my stool in the blue corner watching her. Carrie leaned over the ropes whispered in my ear:
“Oh my God, Ellen, did she just cum?”
I nodded my response as I watched Shannon tended to her mother who was clearly still in a state of euphoria. Jay walked in the centre of the ring and announced:
“Ladies, after two minutes and 30 seconds of round one, the first fall, by a pin, goes to Ellen.”
Carrie wiped me over with a towel and we got ready for round two. When the bell sounded Sian seemed to be fully recovered. I was expecting an easy ride after the first round but Sian had other ideas. With her initial urges satisfied she was back in wrestler mode and, for the next three minutes, we traded holds and throws in equal measure.
I’d like to say that we were evenly matched, but the truth of the matter was that I was taking a bit of a beating. Whether it was simply because she was in better shape than me or whether the psychological effect of two consecutive losses had damaged my confidence I can’t say but things weren’t going well for me.
I ended the round sat on my arse in the middle of the ring with my left arm pinned to my back, Sian’s left hand gripping my left wrist. Her right arm was wrapped around my throat in a chokehold and her right knee was pressed hard into my spine. I was in a position which, had it gone on for much longer, would almost certainly have resulted in my submission. Fortunately, the bell saved me.
I did my best to recover during the break but things didn’t go much better round three. In fact, they went the heck of a lot worse. After an initial exchange of holds Sian took control again and began to hurl me around the ring. As I got to my feet after one particularly vicious throw, she grabbed me by the back of the head and ran me headlong into the turnbuckles of the red corner. My head hit hard and I was dazed. I turned around trying to gather my wits and staggered forward. Her leg came up and her foot caught me square in the love box.
I clutched my womanhood in agony and she moved forward, head butting me and dropping me to my hands and knees. A double axe blow to my back dropped me flat to the mat and she straddled me, grabbing my calves and pulling me into a painful Boston crab.
The video shows me struggling as she plants her arse firmly on the small of my back and pulls back. I’m fighting to break free of the crab when suddenly the expression on my face changes, my mouth forms the perfect O as she inserts three fingers into my already moist pussy.
Knowing that any fight with Sian could easily be lost by an orgasm I quickly slapped the mat indicating my submission. The bell sounded. Sian released the hold, got to her feet and walked back to the corner as I lay on the mat, staring at the blue corner and the horrified expression on my sister’s face. After a few seconds I got to my feet and staggered back to the corner where Carrie was waiting.
“Jesus Ellen, are you okay?” She asked as I stood in front of her, rubbing my abused back.
I grunted my response. She stepped between the ropes, steered me to the stool and sat me down. She could see the tears welling up in my eyes.
“Easy Ellen, easy.” she said, “It’s only one fall, you’re still in a fight. Are you hurt badly?
“I’ve had worse.” I replied, struggling to prevent myself from sobbing.
“There, there, take it easy,” She said, “I’m sure you’ll do better in the next round,”
I was impressed at the confidence she had in me. I really wished I had the same. I needed every second of the break to recover my composure. I looked across the ring to see Shannon fussing around her mother, sat on her stool and smiling – obviously feeling more confident than I did – as Jay announced:
“Ladies, after two minutes and 10 seconds of round three, the second and equalising fall goes to Sian by a submission.”
All too soon the bell sounded for the start of the next round and we walked out to meet each other. Sian confident, me more hesitant, still smarting from the previous fall. We locked up elbow and shoulder but the fourth round was a relatively short affair.
Sian quickly worked her way behind me, applying a full Nelson. Being taller than her I should’ve been able to break it easily, but I struggled. Then she hooked her legs up around my middle, clinging to my back and trapping me in a powerful body scissors. I’d forgotten how strong Sian’s legs were and it seemed age hadn’t weakened them too much.
Only one thing to do in this situation. With Sian clinging to me like a limpet I let gravity take its course, falling backwards on top of her to break the hold. It had always worked in the past but, this time, my strategy failed. Despite hitting hard and having my full weight slam into her groin, she kept hold on.
I sat up and she sat up behind me, tightening her scissors. That just made things worse. I was really struggling now, trying to find a way out. She rolled back, lifting me in the air, and slammed my arse into the canvas.
Boy, that hurt! Despite the padding of my fat backside. She repeated the move and I cried out in pain. As she went for a third attempt, I braced myself, pushing my feet flat on the canvas and arching my back. I was still trapped but at least I’d stopped slamming my arse into the canvas.
I was on top but stretched out. She was underneath, her legs wrapped tightly around my middle crushing my belly. I was powerless to do anything. That’s when she slipped her right hand down from the back of my neck and grabbed hold of my right breast, viciously squeezing and twisting it until I screamed out my submission:
“Jesus, Sian. I give! I give! Stop, please stop, you’re twisting my tit off.”
When the bell sounded, she rolled us sideways, releasing her scissors and allowing me to flop out. Once again, I was faced down on the mat in agony, tears rolling down my cheeks as I stared across the ring at my darling sister, watching with concerned expression from our corner. This really wasn’t the performance that had intended to give her.
I got to my feet and pretty much stumbled toward her clutching my abused mammary.
“Oh God, Ellen, what has she done to you?” She cried. I couldn’t control myself:
“My boobie! My poor boobie!” I cried, in floods of tears, “She almost ripped it off.”
Carrie gave me a hug, taking care not to crush my batter breast, and sat me down on my stool. She grabbed a towel, wiped away my tears and set about getting me ready for the next round.
“Is it always like this?” She asked.
“No,” I said, despite myself, “sometimes I hurt the other girl instead.”
Carrie chuckled and said: “Come on sis, you’re a big girl and you’re not beaten yet. Get out there and win it. Win it for me.”
I forced a smile as Jay announced:
“Ladies, after one minute and 20 seconds of round four, the third fall, by a submission, goes to Sian. Sian leads by two falls to one.”
The sixty seconds of the break passed way too quickly and I really wasn’t ready when Sallie called: “Seconds out, round five!”
The bell rang and I walked out to face the Ulster woman for the fifth round. I had to get back into this fight but I was tired and hurt and I wasn’t sure I could. I did my best and for the first minute of the round we grappled with neither gaining an advantage until we locked hands in a trail of strength. Slowly she forced my arms down and then, suddenly, her right knee crashed into my pussy, dropping me to my knees.
I tried to break free but she forced my hands, arms and shoulders back to the mat, lowering herself on me as she did so. I was seconds away from being pinned. She bounced her backside on my belly and shuffled forward, attempting to get her knees onto my shoulders. I bucked furiously and threw her off. She finally let go of my hands as she rolled away and got to her feet. That was close!
I rolled over and started to get up. As I came to my feet, she charged me and clotheslined me to the mat. I rolled over and came to my hands and knees as Jay started to count. I paused for a moment to gather my wits and looked up at my tormentor staring down at me.
Seeing me getting to my feet she advanced on me, ready to knock me back to the mat. But I was faster. I drove my head into her stomach and grabbed her by the calves, tipping her onto her back as I came to my feet clutching her by the ankles. This was more like it. It was my turn to trap Sian in a Boston crab and remind her that I was both bigger than and heavier than her.
Ladies, if you’ve never had your naked nipples rubbed against the canvas while someone lowered their full weight on your back and tried to bend you in half, I can assure you it’s not a pleasant sensation.
Not only was Sian getting a stark reminder of that but it also gave me an opportunity to fiddle with her lady bits for a change. She struggled for a moment, moaning and groaning. Her pussy was extremely wet and I sensed it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge. Clearly conscious of that fact herself it wasn’t long before she cried out her submission.
The bell sounded and I released the hold and stood up before sauntering back to the blue corner with a satisfied expression on my face. Carrie was full of praise:
“Way to go sis! You’re back in the fight now.”
I turned and noticed that Sian was still lying on the mat; I’d clearly done some damage. I watch as she slowly got to her hands and knees and crawled over to the red corner where Shannon helped her to her feet.
While Carrie wiped me down and, on the other side of the ring, Shannon ministered to her mother, Jay dutifully announced the fall:
““Ladies, after two minutes and 20 seconds of round five, the fourth and equalising fall, by a submission, goes to Ellen.”
Sian was still stretching her abused back when Sallie called seconds out and Carrie whispered in my ear:
“Of you go, sis, time to finish the Irish bitch off.”
Well, that proved easier said than done. We were both tired and the next round saw us back to grappling. At least this time it wasn’t as uneven as it had been in the earlier rounds, I was giving as I got and better. We were two experienced fighters and we were both determined to win. We took the fight to the mat, both searching for the elusive pin or submission hold that would give us the deciding fall.
Coming from the NBFC, Sian was more used to submissions only matches. It had been a long time since she’d gone for a three-count pin and I wondered if she really remembered how. Her attempts at cross presses and small packages showed that she hadn’t lost the knack and I was lucky to escape on more than one occasion.
Making no headway on the canvas, by unspoken agreement, we broke apart and got to our feet. We locked up again, an elbow and shoulder hold which quickly degenerated into pussy and shoulder as our fingers found their way into each other vaginas. We were both extremely wet and I could feel myself coming to the boil. I was just hoping that I could hold off long enough and she would come first. As it turned out we were both saved by the bell. Round six was over. We quickly disengaged and retreated to our corners; the minute break would give us some time to regain a degree of composure.
Round seven of eight and, after 20 minutes or so of sexually charged combat, these two old ladies were feeling the strain. It was definitely time to wrap things up.
At the bell I charged out of the blue corner and clotheslined Sian to the mat. For the next minute or so I threw her around the ring. I was tired but so was she. I was running on adrenaline but she was really struggling. Every time she got to her feet; I was ready to throw her to the mat again. Satisfied that she was disoriented and dazed I went for the kill. I grabbed her by the neck and crotch, lifted her from the mat, turned her over and slammed her to the mat before dropping my knees to her shoulders. I leant forward and grabbed her ankles, pulling her legs up as I settled back on her face.
I’d got her! There was no escape. I wiggled my arse in her face. She was beaten, I knew it and so did she. As Jay dropped to the mat to count the pin my thoughts returned to my recent humiliating defeat at the hands of Auntie and, determined as I was to go out on a high, decided to subject my final opponent to the same treatment the penultimate one had subjected me to. I spread Sian’s legs wider and pushed my pussy into her face. I knew what she was experiencing; I’d been there myself just a few weeks before.
Jay counted the pin and signalled for the bell.
“Yesss!” I cried as the bell rang. Sian echoed my cry but for a different reason as she finally reached a shuddering climax. I looked down to see the cum oozing from her exposed pussy. Mission accomplished I lowered Sian’s feet gently to the mat and bent down to kiss her sex. As I did so I felt her tongue in my slit and I exploded with pleasure, my own cum pouring onto her upturned face.
I rolled off Sian and we lay on our backs in post-orgasm euphoria for a minute or so before sitting up and embracing each other. As we got to our feet Jay walked over and took us both by the wrist before announcing to the crowd:
“Ladies, after one minute and fifty seconds of round seven, the fifth and deciding fall goes to Ellen by a pin. Your winner by three falls to two is Ellen Shaw!”
I returned to the blue corner where Carrie gave me a huge hug, saying:
“Well done sis, I think I understand now. Go and get changed and I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Still high as a kite in my post orgasm euphoria I stepped between the ropes and into the arms of Lynne, who helped me back to the blue corner dressing room while Mair and Sue fussed around me. The next few minutes are still something of a blur but, one by one, the girls finished changing and filed out of the dressing room into the Chill Out Zone.
I was last to shower and stood drying myself alone for a moment in quiet reflection. In some ways I felt guilty about beating Sian tonight but I was also elated to go out on a high. I heard the ring room door open and in walked Carrie with a smile on her face. She came over to me, gave me a big hug and said:
“Well done, big sister, well done!”
Then she sat down next to me and said:
“Ellen, I think I’ve finally got it. I understand why you do this. You live for it. It’s a part of you. There in that ring you’re you. It was crazy of me to tell you to stop. Stopping will just cut off a part of your life – you won’t be the same. I’m sorry. Please, I now know how much this means to you. Keep fighting as long as you enjoy it. Don’t mind your baby sister. She worries about you. She wants to see you safe but she also wants to see you happy.”
For a moment I didn’t know what to do or say. Then I just burst into tears. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me like her life depended on it. I realised she was weeping as well. After a few minutes of emotional release, we pulled ourselves together.
“Come on Carrie,” I said, “let’s go and have a drink.”
“Don’t you think you better get dressed first?” she asked. I was, of course, still completely naked.
“Just give me a moment…”
I quickly put my clothes on and headed towards the door to the chillout zone but Carrie grabbed my hand and led me back towards the ring room, pushing the door open and dragging me through it.
I guess, naïvely, I hadn’t expected it, but the place was packed and, as I came out, there was a rousing cheer from the girls and a chorus of “happy birthday to Ellen” rang out.
I looked around. There were all of tonight’s fighters, Terri and Kelly, Mair and Stacey, and of course, Lynne and Sue, as well as Sian, Shannon, Nat, Gabi, Jay, Cassie Langford and many more including, much to my joy, Erica Strauss, I rushed over to Erica and gave her an enormous hug, then turned to the assembled crowd and said:
“Thank you, ladies, let me present my sister – Carrie.”
Carrie, still stood in the doorway, waved a “Hi” to everybody, and took a step or two forward as Jay handed us both a glass of champagne.
Terri came over to me and said:
“Well done Ellen the best woman won.”
I did my best look indignant for a moment, put my hands on my hips and said:
“I’m not even sure I should be talking to you after what you did to my girl.”
“What I did to your girl? What about what you did to my wife?”
I glanced across at Sian, who was smiling happily and standing next to Lynne – neither seemed the worse for wear from their beatings. Then Terri grabbed hold of me and gave me an enormous hug before releasing me and heading back to Sian. I looked around the room in wonder as the girls went back to chatting among themselves. Carrie came over to me and asked:
“Ellen are all these girls gay?”
“No, not all of them.” I replied, “Sian, Shannon, Nat and Stacey are gay and, I guess I should be honest, so is your big sister.”
“No shit Sherlock, you think I hadn’t figured that out? You’ve been gay ever since Chris left you.”
“He didn’t leave me; I threw him out.”
“Whatever.”
I ignored her comment and continued:
“Jay, Sue, Lynne and Suzi are all housewives. Terri is very bisexual; she has a husband and wife. I think Mair is bisexual as well and Gabi is just Gabi – she’s in love with her aunt.”
“Don’t think I hadn’t noticed that blonde German girl coming and going from your cottage over the years. She’s here tonight but I’ve not seen her in a while, where has she been?”
“She moved back to Germany for work. This is the first time I’ve seen her in almost a year.”
“I’m sorry, I can see you’re very fond of her. I’ll give you a moment to catch up with her.”
With that Carrie started to mingle, and it was my turn to be surprised (yet again) at what a small world it is. In her numerous jobs as a secretary, barmaid and general help, Carrie had known several of my CLAWS companions over the years. She’d been a secretary at the law firm where Jay had worked before she’d joined Marshall’s. She’d also been a secretary at the graphics firm where Sue had worked as an artist before she got married. She’d pulled pints with Lynne behind a bar in the city when they were barely out of their teens. And she briefly been in the accounts department of the firm where Suzi first worked when she came south, some 30 years ago.
Seeing that my baby sister was surprisingly well connected with so many people, I took the opportunity to leave her to it and reacquaint myself with my German lover. I found Erica happily chatting with her cousin and the CLAWS president.
As I walked up to them, Jay and Gabi turned their attention elsewhere, clearly realising Erica and I needed some time alone. It was then I noticed two things; while everyone else was drinking champagne, she was drinking orange juice and there was a noticeable bump in her belly. She saw me glancing at the bump and said:
“Oh Ellen, I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to have a baby. But mutti said it’s good that we are continuing the next generation. She’s a girl, by the way. I’m going to call her Ellen.”
I was shocked. Erica was 40. Motherhood at such an age, particularly if, as she seemed to imply, she would be a single parent, was going to be an interesting experience for her. I congratulated her hugged her and thanked her for naming her baby after me.
“How long?” I asked her
“She is due on the 8th of July, Gabi’s birthday. I hope she comes on time. It would just be so lovely.”
She was clearly excited at the prospect of becoming a mother. Never having been pregnant myself I have no idea how it affects you emotionally but even Terri the tomboy admitted that having a baby was one of her proudest moments.
I asked her how she was getting on back home and how the new German CLAWS was developing. She said the business was going well, they already had some very good fighters and hoped to bring a couple of them over to the UK during the summer, as well as visiting the French club.
She said she was living back with her mother in Hanover, along with her ageing aunt, Gabi’s mother, who is now well into her 90s. She asked me about my decision to stop fighting. Was it really the end of Ellen Shaw?
I told her the truth. I had agreed to stop fighting because Carrie had asked me to. I’d promised her I’d stop when I was sixty. Tonight, she’d seen what it meant to me and she had given me her blessing to carry on, and I planned to do just that. But I would not be getting back into the ring at CLAWS with anybody. I decided that, from here on in, I would only fight women I knew and I would only fight them in that wonderful place, the fighting barn at Sian Ryan’s farm. Then Erica asked me the one thing I’d been hoping she’d ask since I laid eyes on her earlier:
“Ellen, would you mind if I stayed with you tonight?”
“Not at all,” I assured her.
“And Ellen is welcome to stay as well.” I said, patting her bump. She laughed.
“I do have Sian and Shannon staying with me at the moment but they’re in the guest room, so if you don’t mind sharing a bed with me, you’re welcome.”
“Thank you, Ellen. I just think that Gabi and mutti would like to have some time alone. As far as sharing a bed with you is concerned – it won’t be the first time and, I promise you, it won’t be the last.”
As if on cue, Erica’s mother, Lena, descended the spiral staircase from the control room, accompanied by Jill Montrose, Paige Rodriguez and Janet Somerville. They had all been working on the video of tonight’s fights, shutting down the live stream and doing the initial rushes. Jill and Paige were obviously the experts. Lena had a keen eye for good angles, and Jan was keen to involve herself in her daughter’s work. She’d developed quite an aptitude for video editing, a second string should her catering business ever get into difficulty – as if that was likely to happen.
We partied for an hour or so and then, one by one, the guests started to drift away. Eventually there were just six of us left Sian, Shannon, Carrie, Erica, myself and Jay. Jay seemed to be in a very happy positive mood. It was lovely to see her that way, but I could also see that she was tired. Age was catching up with her, as it was with all of us.
“Well ladies,” she said to us, “I hope you’ve enjoyed this evening. Whether you won or lost. It’s lovely to see you back here Sian. Please, don’t be a stranger and that goes for you too, Erica, I’ve missed you just as much as a lot of other people have around here. Now ladies, if you wouldn’t mind making your way home, I’d like to get up to my apartment and have a quiet night in, at least what’s left of it.”
That was Jay all over. Firm but polite. You couldn’t refuse her requests, even when, as on more than one occasion, she’s been a little devious. We made to leave but, as we reached the main doors, she called me back for one final word:
“Ellen, your sister tells me that you’re going to carry on fighting. Will we be seeing you in the ring again any time soon?”
Again, I had to be honest:
“I don’t know Jay I really don’t. I’ll carry on training the girls obviously but, if I do fight again, it will probably be at Sian’s place not here.”
“Oh, that’s a shame, but I will come up to Sian’s and watch you fight, I promise. It’s something I should’ve done year
