Sorry it's been a while but this has taken me a lot longer than I originally expected.
This is the first of three stories I’m writing about the first matches at CLAWS for my ‘novice’ fighters. In part two the MILFs, Lynne and Sue, will make their debuts in the first round of the 9th senior wrestling tournament and in part three Nat will start her boxing career.
This first story sets the scene for post-pandemic CLAWS and tells the tale of Rylie’s first wresting match and its unexpected outcome.
Another year and another phase in what was laughably being called ‘pandemic management’. Frankly, after a constant display of incompetence and a myriad scandals, I was astonished blonde buffoon was still in charge. Mind you, the Americans had had Trump. He told his citizens to drink bleach and some of them had actually done it. It is amazing how stupid people can be.
Over the previous year and a half, we’d gone from “stay in your house and don’t go near anyone” to “go outside and exercise but don’t go near anyone” to “wear a mask if you have to go near anyone” to “get jabbed and wear a mask if you have to go near anyone” to “get jabbed again and wear a mask if you have to go near anyone” to “forget the mask, just keep away from people if you can”.
And now everything was about testing. Test, test, test. I’m no scientist but from what I understood of it, the testing procedure it made no sense. You test yourself to find out if you’ve got the virus but by the time the test shows anything you’ve already had it several days and shared it with your nearest and dearest. Talk about bolting the stable door…
At this stage we were clearly just one step away from “fuck it, do what you like, we’re all going to die anyway”, which is pretty much the view that I’d taken about the thing from the very beginning.
In the shop Carrie and I respected our customers wishes and the guidance the law was giving us. We wore masks. We had screens. We had signs to say keep socially distanced. We had hand sanitiser. We had the works. I don’t think either of us believed a single thing about what we were told to do, but we did it anyway. If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t still be in business.
The situation at CLAWS was even more farcical. The audience had to sit socially distanced wearing masks while half naked women grunted and groaned, breathing heavily and showering everyone with sweat just a few feet away. Really? Where was the sense in that?
With constant testing came more freedom and, finally, at the start of 2022, we were able to resume the CLAWS fighting leagues after almost two years. Those two years had taken a heavy toll on the leagues. The combination of the pandemic, Brexit, and simply people getting older had meant that many of the fighters who had been contesting the leagues at the start of 2020 would not be returning for the 2022 season.
Late January saw the first meeting of the wrestling league since March 2020, and the women contesting it were a very different group to the ones who had been in the ring two years earlier.
Of the 20 girls who started in the leagues at the beginning of 2020 only 11 remained. Chloe and Francesca had married and moved to Spain. Zehra, Kelly and Katya had all had their 40th birthdays and were longer eligible to fight in the league. Ellie had left to have a baby. Erica has gone back to Germany to start the new German version of CLAWS, Marie had gone back to France and Barbara, who had a vulnerable elderly relative to care for, had simply decided to sit things out for a year.
There was new blood coming in but not enough of it to maintain the system we’d had before and it was decided that the two wrestling leagues would be merged into a single one, at least for the foreseeable future The boxing league would continue as before and the senior tournaments, which had continued throughout the pandemic, albeit in very controlled form, would also continue as they always had.
The remaining fighters from the two wrestling leagues (Cerys, Jodie, Amber, Zoe and Jane) would be joined by Paige and Bex, both returning after giving birth, and two newcomers: Rylie Emerson, the young American exchange student that I was coaching, and Sarah Holcombe, the 32-year-old daughter of former UK topless wrestling champion Maggie Martin.
Before the event an announcement on the CLAWS website introduced the nine women who would form the new wresting league, giving their ages but not their stats. In order of age, they were Rylie Emerson (21), Zoe Barton (23), Cerys Jones (24), Jane Langford (27), Bex Dunn (28), Sarah Holcombe (32), Amber Preston (33), Paige Rodríguez (35) and Jodie Carmichael (38). The website also informed members that, after some debate among the committee, the wrestlers had been ranked as follows: Bex (9), Sarah (8 ), Rylie (7), Jodie (6), Zoe (5), Amber (4), Jane (3), Cerys (2) and Paige (1).
So it was that I found myself leading young Rylie into the ring room to face the woman with the longest hair I had ever seen, Sarah. As we climbed into the ring (in the blue corner as usual – the club was kind to pander to my superstitious nature) I looked across at our opponent and was struck by two things.
The first thing that struck me was that Sarah had opted to wear her long locks loose – I had expected a ponytail at least but she stood there, in a gown so short that her hair reached below the hem, with just a sweat band to keep the hair out of her eyes. My initial though was she’ll regret that but it would prove the other way around.
The second surprise was that her corner woman was her mother, Maggie Martin. I had assumed that Sarah was being coached by Emily and Suzi but I was clearly wrong about that. I had only met platinum blonde Maggie briefly, a couple of months previously, but Terri had fought her on several occasions when they were in their twenties. She told me that, in her prime, Maggie had been a formidable opponent – a sometime pro wrestler and a national topless champion with a habit of bending the rules.
Before the match Rylie seemed bullish and confident about her chances against Sarah. In the changing room she explained to me the significance of the outfit that she was wearing tonight, a thong, white at the front and purple at the back, that had once belonged to the British wrestler Lena Davey. Rylie’s mentor, Erin, had won it from her in a match they had had in the States in the mid-90s and Rylie clearly considered to be a lucky charm. I hoped it would be enough to see her through but I worried about her lack of training.
Before she introduced the two fighters, referee Jay Marchant announced the first change to the league wrestling rules since the change from unlimited falls to a ‘best of five’ format four years previously. Until now a league fighter was only ‘deselected’ if they suffered four consecutive defeats. To be fairer to the ‘fighter in waiting’, the rule was now changing. Whoever lost the match between the two lowest ranked fighters would immediately be dropped from the league and become the ‘fighter in waiting’. This meant that, unless the fight ended in a draw, Bex would replace either Sarah or Rylie in March.
Introductions were made and the two women slipped off their robes and joined Jay in the centre of the ring for the pre-match briefing. Sarah cut an imposing figure. 5‘10“ tall and weighing 150lbs with broad shoulders, pert 38C breasts and 38” hips, a toned waist and long, powerful looking legs. She wore black Lycra hipster briefs with a yellow waistband emblazoned with the Lonsdale logo. Every ounce of her cried power.
Rylie, by contrast, was a good four inches shorter and a few pounds lighter than her opponent and, while her 38DDs meant she was not lacking in the breast department, looked far less toned and muscular – almost chubby by comparison, as she stood in her white and purple tanga thong.
I didn’t know too much about Sarah and her mother, Maggie, or indeed much about the London fighting scene at all, but Terri done her best to fill me in on some of the details from back in the day. Terri and Maggie had fought together for an outfit that was officially called “Benjy’s Brawling Babes” but that everyone I know always refers to as Gerry’s club. Gerry himself passed away at the age of 62 in 2013, but his legacy was kept alive by a group of women who called themselves the London Ladies Combat Circle (the LLCC), and they continue to stage topless matches at the various venues that Gerry used.
Maggie and Terri had both won the title of “topless female wrestler of the year” in an annual tournament staged by Gerry in the 90s and although the LLCC no longer held that tournament I had no doubt that if they did, Sarah would be a top contender for winning it.
Sarah herself had moved to CLAWS this year because, like many companies in the financial services sector, her employers had relocated from the city to one of the many steel and glass temples of Mammon that had sprung up in towns on the south coast in recent years.
Briefing over the girls returned to their corners and a few seconds later the time keeper called “seconds out”. I wished Rylie luck and stepped between the ropes and out of the ring.
The bell rang for the start of the first fall and the pair advanced on each other and locked up in classic elbow and shoulder style. They struggled for a moment before Sarah used her height advantage to twist Rylie over her hip and take her to the mat. Sarah dropped on top of her and a curtain of ginger hair covered them. What happened next was difficult to tell as the redhead’s hair obscured the view but the screams and groans coming from Rylie suggested Sarah was working her over, probably with illegal moves of one kind or another.
Sarah kept Rylie pinned to the mat for two or three minutes until she finally got a hand free and started yanking on the redhead’s tresses. Sarah broke off her attack and scrambled to her feet, protesting to the referee about hair pulling.
Rylie lay on her back for a few moments catching her breath while Jay listened to Sarah’s protests and then steered her to a neutral corner before starting to count over my girl. Rylie reluctantly got to her feet as the count reached eight. Jay stopped counting and cautioned Rylie about hair pulling before signalling the girls to ‘fight on’.
This time hands were offered palm first and they locked up in a trial of strength. Initially, despite her smaller stature, Rylie seemed to have the upper hand as Sarah strained against her but, after a minute or so, she started to fade. Sarah forced her back and, using her height advantage, twisted to convert the hold into a scarf hold. Now behind Rylie, Sarah pulled her arms around her neck and placed a knee in her back, forcing Ryle to her knees.
But my girl was far from done. Slowly she forced herself back to her feet and slipped her hands over her head, hoping to reverse the hold. As she did so, Sarah released her left hand, stepped to the side and whipped the smaller woman into the blue corner.
Rylie’s back slammed into the turnbuckles and Sarah charged in, delivering a series of forearms to Rylie’s tits. Rylie was pinned in our corner and I watched in horror as Sarah attacked my girl’s boobs, belly and nether regions, mercilessly. The curtain of hair masked her actions, but I have no doubt in my mind that she was punching and pinching, and generally abusing Rylie, who’s squeals and screams echoed around the ring room.
I shouted at Jay: “Ref, she’s punching her pussy!”
Jay ignored me. I screamed again: “Ref! For fuck’s sake, stop it!”
Jay turned to me and said: “I can’t see any punching.”
Sarah continued her assault. I was convinced that I was catching glimpses of closed fists battering, my poor baby. I appealed again. Eventually Jay separated the pair and cautioned Sarah about punching. Sarah, of course, denied it and, after a short ticking off, simply shrugged her shoulders.
Meanwhile a tearful Rylie was slumped in our corner looking completely exhausted. Sarah moved on her, grabbed her by the neck and crotch and lifted her into the air before turning around, taking two steps forward and dropping to one knee, bringing Rylie down across it in an over the knee backbreaker. Rylie screamed in agony.
Sarah rolled her off her knee and then quickly scrambled round to straddle the prone brunette and pin her shoulders before grabbing Rylie’s calves and talking her legs up under her arms. Satisfied she had Rylie where she wanted her, Sarah pressed her Lycra clad backside into Rylie’s face and Jay dropped to the mat to count the pin.
With Jay, distracted, watching Rylie’s attempts to unseat her opponent and lift her shoulders, I watched Sarah lean forward, pull Rylie’s thong aside, and shove two fingers into her rosebud. Muffled screams from Rylie coincided with Jays count of three and the ringing of the bell.
Sarah quickly withdrew her hand before Jay could see anything and released Rylie’s legs, letting them drop back to the mat. She got to her feet and walked back to her corner where she high-fived her mother. Rylie lay on her back in the middle of the ring sobbing to herself, and clutching her abused nether regions. After about 20 seconds, she rolled over, pushed herself to her feet, and staggered tearfully back to me in the blue corner.
Clearly distraught she looked at me and wailed: “She stuck her fingers in my bum!”
“I know,” I replied, “I saw it. She’s a cheating bitch but you can beat her. I know you can.”
Rylie seemed less certain as I dried her tears, wiped the sweat from her body and did my best to reassure her before the start of the second fall. Meanwhile Jay announced what we already knew:
“Ladies and gentlemen, after four minutes and 10 seconds the first fall, by a pin, goes to Sarah.”
By the time Sallie called “seconds out” for the start of the second fall Rylie seemed to have regained her composure and I was hopefully that she would put up more of a fight.
The bell sounded and they quickly locked up in the centre of the ring. For the first minute or two they traded moves with Rylie getting a few impressive throws in before Sarah used her height and weight advantage to take them to the mat again.
Once again Sarah was on top with her Rapunzel tresses obscuring the action and making it impossible for the referee to see what was going on. That hair was covering a multitude of crimes. Poor Rylie was screaming her head off as Sarah set about smothering her. Occasionally I would catch a glimpse of Rylie’s writhing form. It was clear that Sarah had her hand down the front of her pants and she was doing all sorts of things to the poor girl’s pussy.
Once again, I shouted out to Jay: “For fuck’s sake, Ref, can you not see what’s going on here? She’s punching her in the cxnt!”
Jay, on the other side of the action, ignored me. Rylie’s screams grew worse and worse and eventually she just shouted.
“I give! I give! I give! Please stop!”
The bell rang and Sarah got to feet, leaving Rylie lying in the middle of the ring clutching herself. After a few seconds she slowly got to her feet and walked across to our corner, tears streaming down her face. She looked at me pitifully and said:
“I’m sorry, Ellen, I’m sorry but I can’t take this. I came here to fight this girl and she’s just trying to rape me. I didn’t come here for this. I’m giving up.”
I didn’t try to stop her as she took the towel from my hand, walked to the centre of the ring and threw it down. It was clear she’s had enough the brutalisation that was going on. Sarah’s cheating tactics had knocked the fight out of her. Giving up now meant it would be at least another four months before she would be back in the ring. I just hoped I could convince her that it wasn’t always going to be like this. In the meantime, I was absolutely livid. The bell rang to signal the fight was over and I marched across the ring and slapped Sarah in the face, shouting at her:
“You fucking bitch! This isn’t some brawling match. We have rules here. We have rules stop you abusing your opponents. Just because you’ve got that hair to hide what you’re doing doesn’t mean we can’t tell. The ref may be blind but I’m not.”
Sarah looked stunned, but then I received a slap in the face and found myself nose to nose with her mother, Maggie.
“What the fuck are you accusing my daughter of, Shaw?”
“She’s a fucking cheat. She’s been pulling my girl’s pubes out underneath that hair of hers, and punching her pussy. She’s an evil bitch, she should be disqualified. Just because the ref can’t see it doesn’t mean she’s not doing it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my daughter. She’s a fine girl and she’s a great fighter. Just because your girl wasn’t up to it, don’t blame her. Don’t come here with your fucking excuses, Shaw.”
“Don’t accuse me of making excuses. You know as well as I do what Sarah was doing to poor Rylie there. Just because we’ve got a fucking blind referee…”
I went to take a swing at Maggie and found my right arm locked. Then, suddenly, my left arm was also grabbed. Looking left and right, I saw Lynne and Sue gripping me and restraining me. at the same moment Suzi had snuck up behind Maggie and locked her in a full Nelson.
Jay moved over to calm things down:
“Ladies please no brawling. This is the Civilised Ladies’ Amateur Wrestling Society.” (She emphasised the word ‘civilised’.) “We wrestle, we don’t brawl and catfight. Please, if you have differences to settle, let’s do it here in this ring. We have three more matches on our card today. Let’s add another one – Maggie versus Ellen.”
Fuck me, suddenly I was in a fight I hadn’t intended to be in. Jay can be a devious bitch sometimes and I began to suspect this was what she had planned all along. To get me in the ring facing Maggie.
“What do you say bitch? You and me? Thirty minutes, unlimited falls – we fight until we run out of time or one of us is counted out.” asked Maggie.
Well, what could I say? I’d been well and truly stitched up. I could hardly back down at this point.
“Okay Maggie, you’re on.” I spat at her, “I’ll teach you a thing or two and pay you back for the behaviour of your cheating daughter.”
I struggled against the grip of Lynne and Sue as they pulled me back towards the blue corner. Slowly I begin to calm down.
Jay, calm and collected as ever, simply signalled for Rylie and Sarah to join her in the centre of the ring. Rylie had stopped crying, but was still sniffling and clutching her nether regions. Sarah was looking smugly satisfied. Jay announced:
“Ladies and gentlemen after six minutes and 25 seconds, after submitting the second fall, Rylie Emerson has thrown in the towel and conceded the match, your winner by technical knockout is Sarah Holcombe!”
The audience response was muted with quite a few cat calls from people who, like me, thought that Sarah should have been disqualified. Jay wasn’t about to change her mind so Rylie and I slipped out of the ring and made our way back to the blue corner dressing room.
Back in the dressing room the still tearful Rylie turned to me and said:
“Ellen, are you crazy? Why did you agree to that?”
“It was a challenge and she’s pissed me off. Her daughter’s a cheat and she’s hurt you. I’m responsible for you so I’m going to get even with her.”
“But Ellen, she’s almost ten years younger than you. Do you really stand a chance?”
“I don’t know. And I won’t know if I don’t try.”
“Oh Ellen, you don’t need stand up for me. I don’t want to see you get hurt as well.”
A clearly traumatised Rylie wasn’t going to hang around and wait to watch me suffer at the hands of Maggie in the same way that she had suffered with Sarah. She showered quickly, dried herself and dressed in silence while I sat contemplating events, and then came over and gave me a tearful hug. She wished me luck and then she was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I sat in the changing room, wondering to myself how I got into this mess. I hadn’t come out tonight intending to fight. Heck, I didn’t even have a fighting costume with me. I was going to have to fight in my knickers and I couldn’t even remember what knickers I was wearing. I quickly unzipped my jeans and peered down. Black cotton midi briefs. Well, that would have to do. What the fuck was I doing taking this bitch on anyway? I’d been set up. I had no doubt about it.
Why Jay was so keen to put me in the ring with Maggie Martin I had no idea, but clearly that was what she’d planned all along. The door to the ring room, opened and Lynne walked in with a concerned look on her face.
“Ellen are you okay?” she asked and then, looking around herself, “Where is Rylie?”
“She’s gone home,” I replied, “she was too upset to stay.”
“Oh, poor love. Those were pretty mean tactics that Sarah was using. I just don’t know why Jay didn’t call it out.”
“I do,” I replied, “Jay wants me to fight Maggie. She set this whole thing up just to get us in the ring.”
“Why?” asked Lynne.
“I have no idea, but I will find out after I beat the Martin bitch.”
Lynne said nothing, but her expression suggested she had concerns over my ability to overcome the younger Londoner. For a while, we sat in silence, watching the other league matches on the monitor above the ring room door.
They unfolded pretty much the way that I had expected them to. Twenty-two-year-old Zoe Barton easily overcame her opponent, thirty-eight-year-old Jodie Carmichael. Jane Langford made short work of her opponent, Amber Preston, winning the match by three falls to nil.
Then it was time for the showdown everyone had been waiting for, former champion Paige Rodriguez against the young Welsh star Cerys Jones. Despite what I’d seen of Paige in action at Sian’s a few months earlier my money was still on Cerys to take this match. She was 13 years Paige’s Junior and had yet to be defeated. With the match under way, it was time for me to prepare for my showdown with Maggie.
“I’ll be your second,” said Lynne, reassuringly, as I began stripping off my clothes.
Of course, I had no robe or anything else with me. Fortunately, CLAWS is always prepared for this sort of eventuality and there are spare robes and towels in one of the lockers. Soon I was down to my knickers and began limbering up, half an eye on the video screen above the ring room door as I watched Cerys repeatedly take the fight to an outclassed Paige.
Although I had never faced her myself, I knew how tough a fighter Paige could be and seeing the young Welsh woman running rings around her came as something of a shock. And then suddenly it was all over. One miss timed to move by Paige and Cerys had the older woman wrapped up in a small package pin. Jay counted to three, the bell rang, and that was that. Cerys was the new champion winning the match by three falls to one.
As Jay stood in the ring, announcing the result, I slipped on my robe and walked up to the changing room door. Lynne grabbed a towel, a bucket and a bottle of water and joined me as we waited for our signal. The light above the door came on and the buzzer sounded. I pushed the door and we entered the ring room and made our way towards the blue corner, passing a deflated looking Paige as she slowly made her way back to the changing room accompanied by her mother.
Then I climbed into the blue corner in time to see Maggie and Sarah emerge from the red corner changing room. It was no surprise to me to see Maggie wearing a robe with her name emblazoned on the back. I had no doubt that she was wearing her finest wrestling pants underneath. The pair climbed into the ring, and Jay announced:
“Ladies and gentlemen. Our final match of the evening is a grudge match between two senior wrestlers. You all saw the spat that led to this earlier his evening so I’ll say no more other than to introduce the combatants.
In the red corner is Maggie Martin. Maggie is 51 years old and has an extensive fighting history, although she has never fought here at CLAWS before. She was the UK topless women’s wrestling champion in 1999…”
Maggie slipped off her robe, and sure enough there were her signature blue and gold satin French knickers, which contrasted sharply with my cheap and cheerful black cotton M&S specials. Jay continued:
“…and in the blue corner is our former senior boxing and wrestling champion, Ellen Shaw.”
I slipped off my equally cheap and cheerful towelling robe, and handed it to Lynne before joining Jay and Maggie in the centre of the ring. As I crossed the ring, I took a moment to size Maggie up. She looked impressive. Slim and athletic with pert self-supporting breasts and a toned physique. She was slightly shorter than me and probably 15-20lbs lighter but almost 9 years younger and a damned sight fitter.
I had no doubt that Maggie was going to be a tough opponent, she had a fearsome reputation, including a tendency to bend the rules, and, as Jay had just announced, she had been national champion.
I still wasn’t sure I wanted to do this, my outrage at the way in which Sarah had abused young Rylie had abated somewhat in the 90 minutes since I left the tearful young wrestler back to the dressing room, but I guess I was as ready as I’d ever be.
Yes, I’d been stitched up. Yes, Jay wanted this fight but did she want me to win or lose? I wasn’t about to go lying down. I was going to give it my best shot but it was going to be interesting to see which way the clearly partisan referee leaned with her decisions.
Jay assured us she wanted a “fair fight” and reminded us of the CLAWS rules. Maggie just wore a smug grin that suggested she didn’t give a shit about the rules.
We returned to our corners. The timekeeper called “seconds out”. Lynne wished me luck and slipped through the ropes. I turned to face Maggie. The bell rang. It was time to find out how good Ms. Martin was.
We circled cautiously for a few seconds before closing on each other and locking up. She got the upper hand and quickly took me into a side headlock. I immediately discovered it was a case of “like mother, like daughter” as she twisted to put herself between me and the referee and then drove a closed fist into my belly, knocking the air out of me and dropping me to my knees.
I groaned and yelled “punch!” in protest but the ref ignored me. Maggie simply hauled me back to my feet, marched me to a neutral corner and smashed my head against the top turnbuckle before slamming me down on my back and dropping across me to straddle my tits and pin my shoulders with her knees.
I may have been dazed but it was a bit early to go for a simple pin like that. I bridged and toppled her forward. As I did so I raised my head and effectively headbutted her pussy. She landed face down and I quickly rolled over and came to all fours hoping to climb on her back but she was too quick for me. She also rolled over and drew back her legs. As I launched myself forward, she planted both feet on my breasts and kicked, lifting me back to my feet and pushing me back first to the corner post. Then she leapt to her feet and punched me in the pussy three times. I don’t know if the ref saw it but if she did, she ignored it.
I slumped in the corner, arms over the top rope as Maggie grabbed hold of my breasts and started squeezing and twisting them. I screamed in agony before headbutting her and driving a knee between her legs. She dropped to her knees in front of me and I quickly pushed her down onto her back and straddled her, just as she’d done to me.
Being bigger and heavier I had more success pinning her. She did her best to bridge out but I raised my ample arse and planted firmly back on her chest, knocking the wind out of her, as Jay counted to three and the bell rang. First fall to the old lady!
I got to my feet and walked back to my corner. My tits were on fire but I was one fall up after little more than a minute. The problem was that this was an unlimited falls match. I still had 29 minutes to go and, glancing over my shoulder, I could see Maggie wasn’t happy about going behind so early in the match.
As I settled on my stool and Lynne began tending to me Jay announced:
“Ladies and gentlemen, after one minute and fifteen seconds the first fall, by a pin, goes to Ellen Shaw! Ellen leads by one fall to nil.”
When the bell sounded for the second fall, she flew out of her corner but I was ready for her. We locked up and went to the mat and for the next few minutes we struggled to secure a pin or a submission, me using my weight to try and control her and her using her strength and agility to wriggle free and reverse my holds. Eventually we accepted it was stalemate and broke apart. We both lay on our backs for a moment, catching our breath, as Jay counted over us, rising when the count reached eight.
Coming to our feet we locked hands in a trial of strength and gritted our teeth. Slowly, using my height and weight advantage, I began to push her back when suddenly she rammed her knee between my legs and into my pussy.
As the pain shot through me, I collapsed to my knees. Keeping hold of my right hand with her left she stepped behind me and, before I could recover, hooked my legs around her left one and,
reaching forward, wrapped her left arm around my throat in a sort of crude standing STF. Then she fell backwards, hoisting me into the air on top of her, her arm still wrapped around my throat in a choke, my legs locked by hers and my tits pointed skyward. I was in serious trouble, but my hands were still free, and I tried to get the choke off of my throat. As I did so she slipped her right hand down the front of my panties, and begin tugging viciously at my pubes.
I screamed: “hair!” but the ref ignored me.
I screamed: “Choke!” but it fell on deaf ears.
I frantically slapped the mat, shouting “Get her off my pubes!” and the bell sounded.
Maggie rolled over, releasing the hold and leaving me face down on the mat as she got up and returned to her corner. I pushed myself up and confronted Jay as she went to announce to the audience:
“Ladies and gentlemen, after five minutes and twenty seconds, Ellen has submitted. The second fall goes to Maggie. The score is now one fall each.”
“Fucking hell Jay what kind of refereeing was that? I never submitted.”
“You did, Ellen, you tapped out.”
“She had a choke on me and she was ripping my pubes out. She’s a cheating cow. What the fuck are you doing, Jay? What the fuck are you doing?”
“Calm down Ellen. You submitted that’s all there is to it. Now get back to you corner and get ready for the next fall. And, by the way, don’t argue with the fucking referee again.”
With that she announced to the audience: “Ladies and gentlemen, for arguing with the referee I am giving Ellen Shaw a public warning.”
What the fuck? She’s the one bending the rules and yet, somehow, I’m the one getting the public warning. What a shit show. I guess I know who’s side the referee is on now.
Back in my corner I was still fuming as Lynne did her best to calm me down but it had little effect. When the bell sounded for the third fall, I charged across the ring straight into Maggie’s closed fist. It was a rookie error, particularly against a woman with a reputation for fighting dirty. Maggie punched me in the gut and pussy and then turned me against to ropes and began beating out a tattoo on my belly and boobs with her fits. Jay stepped in and pushed Maggie back, cautioning her about punching, as I slumped against the ropes. Maggie’s response to Jay’s admonishments was to clock me on the jaw with a solid right hook. Everything went black for a second and I found myself on the deck against the ropes. As I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, I heard Jay announce:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am issuing a public warning to Maggie for closed fist punching. Both fighters now have one fall and one public warning each. Keep it clean ladies. Now fight on.”
With that she began counting over me and I got slowly to my feet. As my knees left the mat Maggie grabbed me by the shoulders, ran me across the ring and threw me through the ropes. I landed heavily outside the ring at the feet of Lynne and Sue who were watching with horrified expressions.
Fuck! That hurt but I put a brave face on it, hauled myself up on the ring apron and slipped under the bottom rope, coming to my feet as Jay’s count reached eight. Maggie was, of course, waiting for me. She quickly grabbed my arm, whipped me into the ropes and clotheslined me on the rebound.
The next couple of minutes was one way traffic and I was facing the wrong way. Time and again I got up just to be knocked back down again. But, although she was dominating, she wasn’t really getting anywhere. Every time she knocked me down, I bled another 9 seconds off the clock.
I can’t pretend it wasn’t hurting but I knew that hurling me around the ring would be taking it out of her and she did enjoy the dramatic, pro-style moves that look good but ultimately don’t do much damage.
I was biding my time, hoping to wear her down. Eventually she realised she wasn’t getting anywhere and, as I got to my feet for the umpteenth time, she grabbed me by the neck and crotch, hoisted me into the air and body slammed me to the mat.
Oh god, my back! Suddenly I was in agony. She dropped on top of me, straddling my prone form. Now it was her chance to pin me. She positioned herself well. Arse on my tits, knees on my shoulders, pinning me to the mat. My back was aching and I was winded but I wasn’t going to give up without a fight. Jay dropped to the mat and began counting: “1… 2…”
I bridged and managed to get my left shoulder up. Jay stop counting. Maggie swung her right arm behind her back and punched me hard in the belly. I groaned and flopped back to the mat.
Jay counted again: “1… 2…”
I bridged again, managing to get my right shoulder up this time. Once again, Jay stopped counting and once again I was rewarded with a short punch to my pussy. Fuck! That hurt! I cried out:
“For fucks sake ref, she’s punching me in the pussy.”
Jay ignored me and counted again: “1… 2…”
This time, I felt Maggie’s hands around my throat. I screamed: “Choke!”
She started squeezing my windpipe. What the fuck was wrong with the ref? Couldn’t she see it? She was still there counting next to me. I panicked and frantically tapped the mat, indicating my submission. At the same moment Jay counted to 3 and the bell rang. But Maggie was still gripping my windpipe with both her hands, I couldn’t speak, I was turning blue.
The bell rang but she kept the hold on. I couldn’t breathe. I could feel myself starting to black out. Jay shouted at her to break the hold, counted to five and then, as I was on the brink of passing out, physically pulled her off me. I lay on the mat sobbing. I was breathing again but I just lay on my back, eyes closed. I could hear shouting and the sounds of a scuffle. They slowly receded across the ring. I opened my eyes as Jay raised her hands and announce:
“Ladies and gentlemen, after eight minutes and ten seconds Maggie has successfully pinned Ellen and leads by two falls to one. I am also issuing a second public warning to Maggie for choking. One more warning and she will be disqualified.”
That was a small consolation for me. She was now a fall up and I was suffering badly from her dubious fighting style. If I was going stand a chance, I was going to have to match her tactics but I also already had a warning so I couldn’t push my luck too far.
Slowly I rolled over, pushed myself up and staggered back to my corner where Lynne did her best in the remaining seconds of the break to get me ready for the fourth fall.
The break was over far too quickly for me and I was still in a bad way when the bell sounded for the start of the next fall. Fortunately for me Maggie didn’t immediately charge in and I was able to circle away from her, gaining myself some valuable time to consider my next move.
With less than a third of the fight gone it was tempting to play a tactical game and concede another fall to give myself time to recover. Alternatively, I could try to get her riled up and disqualified but a) if I got it wrong it could be me that got the DQ and b) the way Jay was behaving tonight I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d have to do to get Maggie DQ’d.
After a few seconds of stalking me around the ring Maggie lost patience and simply ran at me and punched me in the gut. I dropped to my knees clutching my belly and her knee hit my jaw putting me on my back. Jay quickly intervened and warned Maggie again about closed fist punching. I rolled over, shook my head to clear the cobwebs and got slowly to my feet.
We came to our feet facing each other. Without even a pretence at doing something legal she took two steps towards me and buried her fist deep in my belly. The air rushed out of me and I collapsed to the deck.
I was on the deck on my knees, clutching my belly with tears welling up in my eyes. Jesus, ref, what the fuck does she have to do before you call her out?
That was when she made a big mistake. Instead of going to a neutral corner so Jay could count over me (and probably count me out) she started show boating, raising her hands in victory and playing the audience.
Stupid cow! Don’t you know where you are? These people are my friends. Do you think they’re going to let you get away with punching me in the gut? The ref may be blind but they’re not. A chorus of boos greeted her and, for a moment, she hesitated. I didn’t need a second invitation. I launched myself from the mat and tackled her to the canvas.
This was one ex-pro wrestler who got a pro finisher as I threw myself across her and hooked her left leg in the air. Jay dropped to the mat and obliged with the formalities. A count of three and there’s the bell. This old lady ain’t finished yet. I released her, came to my knees and punched the air in victory. As we made our way back to our corners, Jay announced:
“Ladies and gentlemen, after eleven minutes and twenty seconds, an equalising fall by a pin, goes to Ellen. It’s now two falls each.”
At least we were even again but this fight was far from over and I was beginning to feel the strain. The break seemed to be over far too quickly and, as we came out for the fifth fall, it was pretty clear that she was in better shape than I was.
For a while we circled cautiously, I’d clearly gained some respect in her eyes for that last pin, but eventually we locked up and, inevitably, she got the upper hand, taking me to the mat in another side headlock.
We were both getting tired now but she had more stamina and strength than me. I wasn’t running on empty but the fuel gauge was getting dangerously low as we struggled to dominate each other. The only thing in my favour was that while she was becoming less agile, my weight advantage wasn’t going anywhere fast. I was finding it easier to turn her and get her into potential pin situations.
Perhaps realising that the power to weight ratio was changing she broke off and got to her feet, moving to a neutral corner. I took a five count to catch my breath before standing up and facing her. At that moment she lunged at me and grabbed my crotch with her right hand. She pushed her finger deep into the fabric of my M&S specials and tried to finger fuck me through the thin fabric.
At that point I completely lost it. I screamed at her, grabbed her shoulders, shoved her back into the corner and punched her hard in the belly five or six times before Jay dragged me away. Maggie slid down the corner post and sat the mat, clutching her abused belly as Jay confronted me:
“Ellen, will you stop it with the closed fist punching?”
“No! I’ve had it with this dubious refereeing. Fuck you, Jay. She punched me I’m gonna punch her back, you see if I don’t.”
“Well, fuck you too, Ellen Shaw. That’s another public warning to you.” said Jay, waving her hand to signal to the timekeeper and then calling out to the audience:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am issuing a second public warning to Ellen Shaw. One more warning and she will be disqualified.”
Two falls and two public warning each. This really was an intense fight. And we hadn’t reached the half way point yet. I’d never had two public warnings in a match in my life. I pride myself on the fact I fight by the rules but she was fighting dirty and I was starting to respond in kind.
I’m not used to spontaneous fights like this. Normally I have a week or two to prepare and I’m generally calm and collected and fight fair. But today this woman had upset me and the red mist had descended.
My altercation with Jay had given Maggie time to recover and when I turned back to her, she was waiting. A series of forearm smashes to my poor abused titties had me stumbling backwards into the red corner where Sarah was shouting encouragement to her mother.
As I slumped against the turnbuckles, Maggie jumped up onto the bottom rope, put her hands round the back of my head, and then jumped back off again, bulldogging me to the mat. My head hit hard, and I was dazed. She was in front of me with her legs spread wide. She swiftly grabbed my head again, pulled my face into her crotch and snapped on the head scissors.
I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t breathe. She squeezed her thighs tighter around my head. My hands were free and I tried to grab her tits but then I felt her hands around the waistband of my knickers.
She pulled on them sharply, giving me a painful wedgie as the cheap cotton fabric cut through my pussy and bum. I slapped on the mat to indicate my submission. The pressure on my pussy eased and then she opened her legs and I could breathe again.
She quickly got to her feet and headed back to the red corner, as I lay face down on the mat, gasping for breath, my hands going instinctively to my abused crotch. To my surprise, my fingers touched my sweaty pubes rather than the cotton fabric I’d expected. It seemed my cheap and cheerful knickers weren’t quite as strong as my pubic bone and the gusseted had ripped. What had been a pair of black knickers was now a black loincloth. Well, unless I could borrow a pair, I guessed I’d be going home commando.
As the pain in my pussy eased. I push myself up to my hands and knees before standing up and wandering back to my corner where I slipped off the remains of my knickers while Lynne fussed around me and Jay announced:
“Ladies and gentlemen. After fourteen minutes and ten seconds Ellen has submitted the fifth fall. Maggie now leads by three falls to two.”
Halfway through the match, trailing by a fall and feeling exhausted I was in trouble from the start of the sixth fall. Sensing that I was tiring, Maggie decided to subject me to her arsenal of power moves. Over the three or four minutes I was repeatedly posted, clotheslined, body slammed, suplexed and snapmared until I had no idea which way was up.
Maggie was younger and fitter than me. I was no match for her despite my anger. She tossed me around the ring like a rag doll and I had no answer. I must have taken a dozen counts before I ended up slumped in the blue corner being repeatedly kneed in the pussy as Maggie encouraged me to:
“Get down and stay down you stupid old cow.”
Over her shoulder I could see Lynne wincing every time Maggie drove her knee between my legs. I was in agony; it was all I could do to stop myself throwing up.
In every fight somebody has to win and somebody has to lose and I was beaten. Eventually she hauled me out of the corner and I collapsed in a heap on the canvas. I could take no more. As a wise woman once said to me:
“If you know you’re beaten, stay down.”
I lay on the mat, every part of me aching. I was still conscious but I’d had enough. I was just listening for the ten count and the merciful release from this torture…
But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt and excruciating pain between my legs as Maggie stomped on my pussy. I screamed in agony and then she started kicking me all over. Legs, back, belly, tits, cxnt – anywhere she could hit me. I could hear Jay screaming at her and sensed a struggle going on above me but my eyes were full of tears and I couldn’t see anything. I closed my eyes and did my best to curl up into a ball and ride out the assault.
The kicking and stomping ceased and, a short while later, I felt hands…helping hands, cradling me, hugging me. I opened my eyes and looked up into Lynne’s face. I was sobbing.
“There, there,” she said in a comforting way, “I think things got a bit out of hand there. Are you okay?”
I must have nodded because she smiled as she helped me to sit up. I stared across the ring and saw Maggie being restrained by Stacey and Sue while Jay read the riot act to her before slapping her in the face and walking to the centre of the ring where she announced:
“Ladies and gentlemen, after 17 minutes and 10 seconds I have disqualified Maggie Martin for repeated infringements of the rules. Your winner is Ellen Shaw.”
The audience erupted and I heard howls of approval and calls of “cheating bitch” and “what a dirty fighter”. Part of me felt a bit guilty about the vitriol being levelled at Maggie. After all, I had probably fought my dirtiest fight ever, but Maggie had been worse. I could hardly call it a victory; I’d given up, but Maggie had definitely lost the fight.
As Lynne helped me to my feet I looked across to the red corner where Maggie was still arguing with Jay, although less aggressively now. Sue saw us move, came around to the blue corner and helped me out of the ring. Supported by both Lynne and Sue, I made my way slowly to the blue corner dressing room, Maggie’s cries of protest still ringing in my ears.
By contrast to the empty room that I’d left less than 30 minutes earlier, the changing room was now a hive of activity. After a few minutes on her own, Paige had returned to the ring room to watch me fight Maggie. Now all three remaining blue corner fighters, Paige, Zoe and Jane were showering and changing accompanied by their seconds who, I noted absently, also happened to be their mothers. There was much praise for the victorious Zoe and Jane and commiserations for the unfortunate Paige, who would now face Zoe in her next league encounter.
While their daughters changed Jan and Sue talked animatedly about their past encounters. Back then Sue had never beaten Jan but now, at 48 to Jan’s 60 and a good 30-40lbs heavier I felt she’d have a pretty good chance. I wondered if Jan would be willing to take her on but I didn’t say anything.
Lynne handed me the remains of my cotton panties. Surely someone would have a spare pair with them? Hopefully I asked them:
“I don’t suppose anyone has a spare pair of knickers they could lend me? Size 16?”
Jan called out “fat arse” but the rest of the girls just shook their heads and mumbled apologies, I’d definitely be going home commando.
One by one the girls got ready and said their goodbyes. Soon it was just the four of us; Lynne, Sue, Zoe and me. We picked up our belongings and headed for the door. As we walked out into the chill out zone, Jay was waiting for us – or, more specifically, for me. She had changed back into her business clothes, a crisp, white blouse, a short black A-line skirt and black patent leather shoes. She looked at me and said:
“Ellen, I’m sorry…”
I lost it before she could stay another word. I stormed across to her and said:
“What the fuck do you mean you’re sorry? You let that redheaded bully rape my poor Rylie and beat the crap out of her and then you let her mother rip my pubes out and nearly choke me to death. What the fuck do you mean you’re sorry?”
With that I slapped her hard on the left cheek, I heard Lynne behind me gasp and Sue say: “Steady on, Ellen.”
Then I realised Jay was still wearing her glasses. I’ve never hit anyone with glasses on before and it made me hesitate for a moment. A red mark from my slap was beginning to show on Jay’s left cheek. She took off her glasses and put them into the breast pocket of her blouse. She looked at me again, a hint of a tear in her eye, and repeated her statement:
“Ellen. I’m sorry, but I can explain.”
I was still raging:
“You can explain? I don’t want your fucking explanation I want you; you screwed me over. there’s a ring just out there, let’s get in it and settle this woman to woman. I want justice for me and Rylie. I want to beat the crap out of you.”
Jay looked through me and addressed the women stood behind me:
“Ladies. I think you should leave us now. This is between me and Ellen. Thank you for an enjoyable evening. We’ll see you again soon.”
Sue ushered Zoe through the door that leads to the treatment rooms. Lynne hesitated for a moment. Sue grabbed her wrist, and with a sharp: “come on Lindy Lou”, pulled the busty blonde through the door behind her and closed it.
Jay and I were alone. I was ready to strip off and take her on there and then She looked worried and sad and, as so often with Jay, spoke in a conciliatory tone
“Ellen it’s true. There’s a ring out there. We could go out there and settle this woman to woman. I’ve done you wrong, you deserve your justice and I’m sure you’d enjoy the opportunity of beating the crap out of this old lady. But there is an alternative, more civilised way. Why don’t you come up to my apartment for a drink and I’ll explain everything? We don’t have to fight, Ellen, we can still be friends. Just give me that moment to explain.”
I hesitated, in my mind already had visions of me hurling her around the ring. But she was right, beating her up tonight would release my anger but it wouldn’t solve anything in the long run. Jay and I have been through 35 years together. We’ve been friends, we’ve been opponents in the ring. We’ve never been enemies. Whatever happened tonight had happen for a reason. I owed it to her to give her the chance to explain herself. I looked at her, she seemed on the brink of tears. I nodded and said: “Okay, lead on.”
I followed her up the spiral staircase, catching a fleeting glimpse of her white cotton panties as her legs rose and fell. Was it my imagination, or was there a damp patch there?
Although I knew that Jay had an apartment behind her office on the top floor of one of the turrets of the Marshalls HQ, or Gabi’s Castle as it was affectionately known to the staff, I had never been in there before.
We walked into her office, and she led me to the door for her inner sanctum, opened it, and ushered me in. The apartment could best be described as ‘cosy’. There was a small living room, comfortably appointed with a two-seater couch, a coffee table and two armchairs. A large picture window with offered a spectacular view over the old docks and the estuary down to the sea. Even in a dark of a winter’s evening it looked impressive. I could imagine watching wonderful sunsets from here. To one side there was a doorway to a small kitchenette and the other side a door which, presumably, led on to the bedroom and bathroom.
She closed the door behind us, bid me sit on the couch and walked into the kitchenette, calling over her shoulder: “Red or white?”
“White,” I replied, “Pinot Grigio if you have it”
“Of course.” she said, returning moments later with two glasses of chilled Italian white wine. She sat down beside me, placed the glasses on the coffee table and poured the wine. I turned to her and said:
“Okay, madam, explain yourself.”
“I’m sorry, Ellen. I owed Maggie. She wanted to fight you and I didn’t think you’d agree…”
“You could have asked.”
“Would you have said yes?”
“Probably not,” I sniffed, “I barely know the woman, she’s not on my bucket list, why the hell should I fight her?”
“That’s what I thought. I knew my best bet was to get you mad at her. I told her that and she said ‘leave it to me’. Then she turned up for Sarah’s match with Rylie and just said to me ‘turn a blind eye ref, turn a blind eye.’ – oh Ellen, I’m mortified, I’ve never done anything like that in my life and the last person I’d do it to is an old friend like you.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s poor Rylie. She was traumatised and abused by that cow Sarah; you should ban her from your league. God knows how I’ll convince Rylie to fight again.”
“Sarah’s not like that. That was her mother’s doing. I’ve watched Sarah train. She’s …almost… all sweetness and light. Emily confirmed it. She’s a damned good fighter but she’s certainly no cheat. Her mother put her up to it.”
“Okay, so you’re in Maggie’s debt and you agreed to help her in her quest to beat me up. You haven’t given me a reason not to take you down stairs and knock seven bells out of you in your ring yet. So come on, what is this hold that Maggie has on you?”
She took a sip of her wine and gulped; it was confession time.
“Do you remember when I re-joined the league back in 1992?”
I nodded and she continued:
“Well, before I got into the ring against you lot…” (I was fighting in the league then; in fact, I think I was champion.) “…Maggie helped me train and sparred with me. I was 34, she was 21, a single parent and a rising star at Gerry’s club – at least until Terri turned up a couple of years later. We fought many times. Without her help I would never have won the league title again. When she came to visit last year and told me she was getting back into the ring I made a rash offer. I said she could fight anyone she wanted at CLAWS. I expected her to chose me or Terri, instead she chose you.”
“Oh Jay, for fuck’s sake,” I said, putting my arm around her and giving her a squeeze, “if you’d told me that before of course I would have agreed to fight her, that’s what friends are for.”
That didn’t explain her behaviour in my fight with Maggie so I pressed the point.
“Why did you let her cheat so much? Why did you let her hurt me? Why did you give me two public warnings? I’ve never had two public warnings in my life.”
“Are you saying you didn’t deserve them?”
“No, I was out of order but she had me wound up, you should have disqualified her far earlier.”
“I wanted to see how you’d react. Your fight with Clara was so exciting, I wanted to see what would happen when you lost your rag against a younger woman. I’ve told you that before. I’ve always wanted to see the wild side of Ellen Shaw. I cut her some slack but I stepped in when I felt she was going too far.”
“So, for your pleasure, I had to take a beating from that cow? Choking me and abusing my poor pussy. I’m all swollen down there. It hurts like hell and it’s all your fault.”
She turned to face me and said: “That’s something I can help you with. You’ve told me what friends are for, let me show you what lovers are for.”
With that she kissed me, unzipped the fly of my jeans and began to softly stroke and massage my aching pussy. At the same time, she hitched up her skirt and guided my hand to the damp patch on the crotch of her knickers.
What followed is between the two of us but suffice to say she has crisp white sheets, a lot of energy for a woman of 65 and makes a mean cup of coffee for breakfast. Oh, and by the way, you get a brilliant view of the sunrise through the bedroom window.
