With Mandy finally off my bucket list it was time to turn my attention back to my rematch with Pauline and that challenge I received from her fat bottomed friend Helen. The only question was how we were going to go about it.
It was Helen who suggested we do it as a three-way tournament spread over three days. Each of us would fight both the others plus a fourth fighter we all had something in common with. The question was who is that fourth fighter would be?
When we compared notes, it wasn’t hard to conclude that a certain redheaded Irish woman from County Cork would be the obvious candidate. I knew Lesley would be itching for the opportunity to face me again with the gloves on and it seems she also had history with both Helen and Pauline. Sure enough, when Helen asked her, Lesley jumped at the chance and it was game on.
Then there were the questions of a venue and referee. Pauline was reluctant to use CLAWS because of all the cameras but she didn’t have a ring at the school. Again, Lesley came to the rescue, offering the use of her ‘fighting house’ out at her holiday park. We needed an impartial referee and I managed to persuade Suzi Lomax, the new CEO of Marshall’s, who had refereed my fight with Pauline, to do it.
We agreed the schedule of fights. Two fights every evening for three consecutive days in the middle of the week. No audience, and no seconds, just the five of us – fighters sharing the same corner would help each other if they were able. The fights would be over six three-minute rounds using CLAWS rules and, in the event both women were still standing at the end of the time, Suzi alone would decide the winner. We would fight topless in just gloves and the pants of our choice. On day one Pauline would take on Lesley while I faced lard-arse Helen, on day two Lesley would face Helen and I would face Pauline and on day three it would be Pauline against Helen and me against Lesley. With no audience, the second fight on each evening would follow immediately after the first one so, even if they both went the distance, we’d be done in an hour or so and Lesley offered spa facilities for us to wind down after the fights before heading home.
The dates were set for early August and, almost a year to the day after I’d faced her in the ring at CLAWS, I found myself heading for Lesley’s fighting house. On this evening I was travelling in style. Suzi had recently moved to a beach front property in my village and gave me a lift to Lesley’s in her new Range Rover – it seems being CEO of Marshall’s is quite a lucrative position.
We arrived shortly after six to find Pauline and Helen already there. It was a warm evening and the girls were sat on the veranda, enjoying cool drinks (“water before fighting, wine after” as Lesley put it). Our hostess welcomed us warmly and gave us a quick guided tour before settling us down on the veranda with a glass of lime and soda each.
The ‘house’ itself was as impressive as I’d been led to believe by Pauline and Jan. It was set apart from the rest of Lesley’s holiday park, high on the hillside above the family’s main house where the views were excellent and no one could see in. I’d seen these things before in the more upmarket holiday parks and retirement estates along the coast. They’re basically two static caravans bolted together with an apex roof, giving a relatively spacious 800 square feet of living space. Add a 10ft deep deck on the front and you’ve got 1000 square feet, enough for any older couple.
What made Lesley’s one rather different was when you walked inside. The whole front half of the building was a big open area, 20 feet by 20 feet, with a large panel of interlocking gym mats covering the floor and four large Velux windows in the roof to provide natural light. A line of bi-fold doors let out onto the veranda and were wide open when we arrived. In the middle of the building there were two wet rooms (“changing rooms” Lesley called them), and, between them, a galley kitchen/bar area. Beyond that, at the back of the building was an area with a hot tub and a sauna. The wet rooms had doors at both end so could be accessed from both the spa area and what Lesley described as the ‘combat zone’. I couldn’t help notice that, although there were mats there was no ring as such in the combat zone. I mentioned that to Lesley and she said: “Don’t worry, the boys will be along in a few minutes to put the ring up.”
We sat down to have our drinks and admire the view and chatted for a few minutes until two strapping lads in their early twenties, Lesley’s sons Pete and Charlie, turned up in one of those 4x4 buggies you see grounds men use on golf course and campsites with what looked like a pile of poles and ropes on the back. They jumped down, nodded to their mother, picked up the bundle and headed into the combat zone.
“Watch this, ladies,” Urged Lesley, “I think you’ll be impressed.”
We swivelled our chairs around to watch the boys at work. They laid out the bundle on one corner of the mats and began to unroll it. It quickly became obvious that the bundle consisted of four posts connected together by three ropes. They positioned the posts in a square pointing to the centre and I noticed each one had a pivoting joint near the base. As Charlie straightened the ends of the ropes near the first post, Pete set about removing a small circle of the mat by each post, revealing a hole in the floor into which he slotted the pivoting end of the post. The lads worked silently with just a nod or a grunt to each other. With all four posts planted in the holes but still lying flat on the mat Charlie took hold of the three loose rope and, with a nod from Pete, pulled on them. As if by magic a ring rose from the floor. The four posts stood up and Charlie hooked one rope after another to turnbuckles on the first post. There were a series of satisfying clicks as sprung clips locked the posts in place. Pete then went from post to post, checking it was locked and fitting and extra locking pin for safety while Charlie tightened the only set of turnbuckles, on the rope ends he’d attached earlier. Unlike the ring at CLAWS this, 15 foot square, ring had continuous ropes that passed through eyes on each post (suitably padded) and were only tensioned in the one place.
With everything set, the boys bowed to their mother and we gave them a round of applause. It truly was impressive. I wondered if Sian knew about it, it was a lot easier to set up than the ring at her barn that we’d put up a month before.
“Thank you, boys.” Said Lesley and, with that, they jumped back in their buggy and drove off. Lesley turned to Suzi and said: “If you’d like to get ready first, madam referee, we can get changed and let battle commence. Tonight, Pauline and Ellen will use the left changing room and be in the blue corner, while Helen and I will use the right changing room and the red corner. Suzi, you may change in either room.”
Suzi got up, picked up her tote and made her way to the right dressing room, emerging a few minutes later dressed in her referee’s outfit of black sports briefs and a black and white striped polo shirt. She began closing the bi-fold doors and checking the ring as the rest of us made our way to the changing rooms.
In the left changing room Pauline and I started to undress and get our fighting gear on. With my old polka-dot fighting pants consigned to history by Judy, my normal ‘uniform’ was no longer available. I had been unsure what to wear for these matches, I’d long since lost my old league outfit and it probably wouldn’t fit anyway. Initially I toyed with wearing the black thong I’d worn when I fought Lesley in our strip boxing match the year before. But then I remembered Helen wearing a similar thong when she seconded Pauline in her match with me and suspected she might wear it today as well. I opted to wear the tie side briefs from my aquamarine bikini, a descendant of the one I’d worn when I faced Jan all those years ago in my come back fight, and was pleased to see Pauline lay out the same floral briefs she’d worn fight me. At least I wouldn’t feel overdressed.
As we changed, we chatted and Pauline shared useful advice about her opponent: “She’s a bit slow but be careful because she has a punch like Mike Tyson. Use your height, reach and speed to keep out of her way and you’ll be fine but if she gets a solid punch in, you’ll know all about it.”
I thanked her. I couldn’t offer her any similar advice about Lesley – she’d fought her more times than I had and my fights with her had been special in nature. Instead, I asked her how she’d got on against the others in the past.
“Helen and I are about even. We’ve fought so many times over the years I’ve lost count but I like to think I’ve given as good as I’ve got. Lesley is another matter. Yes, I have beaten her, twice in fact, but our current record is five-two to her.”
After about five minutes Suzi stuck her head round the changing room door and asked us if we were ready. We nodded. There were no robes so we just picked up the Velcro 12oz gloves Lesley had left out (I chose the blue pair; Pauline took the red ones) and followed her into the combat zone. Our opponents were already there and I wasn’t surprised to note that they were both wearing matching gloves and thongs. Helen in black, as I’d predicted, and Lesley in emerald green. Helen was already sitting in one corner so I dutifully climbed into the opposite one and sat down on a stool that Suzi had put there. Water bottles and towels had also appeared by each corner – Suzi had been busy in the few minutes we were changing. She climbed into the ring herself and said: “Right ladies, are we ready?”
We nodded and she beckoned us to the centre of the ring.
“Okay ladies, this is a six round match being fought under CLAWS rules. A ten count secures a victory and, in the event that you go the distance, the decision is mine and mine alone. Lesley tells me that there is an automatic timer so once the first bell goes, you’ll have three minutes to the next one. Now please return to your corners and await the bell.”
We walked back to our corners and Lesley walked over to a button on the kitchen wall.
“Are you ready, ladies?” Asked Suzi. We put our gum shields in and nodded. Suzi pointed to Lesley who pressed the button. The bell rang and we were off.
I’d like to say I distinguished myself in my fight with Helen but I’d be lying. God, that woman can punch. For the first couple of rounds, I managed to keep her at bay using my height and reach. I even managed to knock her down once, for a count of eight mid-way through the second round. But she slowly wore me down and, as I tired, more and more of her powerful blows landed. Towards the end of the second round, she hit me with her first solid punch and from that moment on I knew I was done for. I only just managed to beat the count and survive the ten seconds or so left in the round.
Between rounds Pauline encouraged me: “Don’t let that knock down put you off. You’ve shown you can put her down too. Just use your height and reach and keep out of her way.”
To be honest my advantage wasn’t that great. I was only two or three inches taller than her and my reach was probably less than a couple of inches greater. She probably had 10lbs on me and she put all her weight behind her punches.
I did my best but the third round was one way traffic. She put me down five times without response. Each time I took a count of eight or nine. I was dazed and slow and what punches I did throw had been robbed of their power. Towards the end of the round I was just covering up and retreating. I took a couple of standing counts for holding on and clinching before, mercifully, the bell ended the slaughter. It was probably my worst round in a boxing match ever. If we’d been at CLAWS it would have been scored 18-0 to Helen
In the break Pauline urged me on again: “Come on Ellen, you’re better than this. You can beat her; you know you can. Just get out there and fight her.”
Suzi also came over to check on me but her words were less kind: “Much more holding on Ellen and I’ll be forced to stop the fight even if she hasn’t knocked you out.”
Those words were still ringing in my ears as the bell sounded and we came out for the fourth round. I was struggling, my arms felt like lead and I couldn’t concentrate. She’d put me down six times and I was in serious trouble. I could hear Pauline shouting words of encouragement but also Lesley screaming at Helen to “deck the fucking bitch”.
I tried my best. I hit her with a few jabs and then a right hook. She backed off but then, as I moved forward, she worked her way inside my defences again. A fist found its way to my tits and then another connected with my head, I was seeing stars and then everything went black. When I came to, I was lying on the canvas. I could hear Suzi counting. She was already at five. I rolled over, pushed myself up to my hands and knees and slowly got to my feet just beating the count.
Suzi asked me if I wanted to continue. I nodded and raised my gloves and she waved Helen back in. I tried to focus but all my movements were slow and sluggish. The big, fat bitch hove into view and fired off a couple of punches. I did my best block but they still jarred every bone in my body. Then something connected with my jaw. I felt myself falling backwards, bright lights in my face. Something slammed into my back and I lost consciousness.
When I came to this time, I found myself gazing into the worried eyes of Pauline. The fight was over and I had clearly lost. I felt like absolute shit. My head was ringing, I was struggling for breath and I ached all over. Pauline helped me to my feet and out of the ring before slipping her own gloves on and preparing to face Lesley.
I should have been there in her corner to help and advise her, as she’d done for me, but I just didn’t have the energy. I slumped on a chair and watched in horror as, over three rounds, Lesley beat the crap out of the woman I’d struggled to draw with less than a year ago. The battle was completely one-sided and Pauline never stood a chance. She went down three times in the first round, three more in the second and was KO’d less than a minute into the third having barely landed a blow on her opponent.
All I could do was commiserate with her as I helped her out of the ring and Lesley invited us to join the victors in the tub for a glass of bubbly.
Fighting over we were able to relax and, despite all my aches and pains, it was a convivial affair with the five of us naked in Lesley’s enormous hot tub. After an hour or so Lesley, in her usual controlling manner, said: “Right ladies, time to get changed and head home. I’ll leave the ring set up and see you all tomorrow at the same time.”
As we drove home Suzi said to me: “Never mind Ellen, hopefully it will go better for you tomorrow.”
I wasn’t so sure and, having seen what Lesley did to Pauline, I certainly wasn’t looking forward to day three.
**************
As we headed for Baker’s Farm on day two, I was still aching from the beating I taken from Helen the previous day. My opponent today would be Pauline and my only consolation was that on day one she’d also taken a beating at the hands of Lesley. We were now the two losers, going last, with the two winners facing off before us.
Once again, when we arrived Lesley was all sweetness and light. Ushering out to the veranda and plying us with cool drinks (“water before, wine after”) and announcing the arrangements for the evening.
“Tonight ladies, Ellen and I will be in the blue corner and Pauline and Helen will be in the red corner. Helen and I will fight first. Shall we go and get ready?”
I followed Lesley into the left changing room. She immediately removed her blouse, bra and friendly demeanour and said:
“Ellen, I really don’t know why you’re bothering with this. You clearly aren’t in our class.”
“What?” I said as I started to undress.
“You heard me. You’re a loser Ellen Shaw. You let Helen punch your lights out yesterday. Pauline’s much better than you. Your fight last year should never have been a draw, she knocked you out at least three times.”
“You’re quite the bitch in private, aren’t you?” I said as I took off my jeans and top.
“Too right I am, loser.” She replied as I unclipped my bra. She slipped out of her skirt, revealing that she was already wearing her emerald green thong, and added: “As for beating me, you really don’t stand a hope.”
I peeled off my knickers and let them drop to the floor.
“Oh no?” I said, standing naked in front of her and balling my fist.
She looked at me, and then goaded me. “Come on then Ellen, give me your best shot.”
I took a swing at her but I telegraphed it. She grabbed my wrist and drove a knee into my pussy.
“Is that it?” She asked, placing her left arm across my throat to stop me from dropping to my knees. Then she shoved three fingers of her right hand into my cxnt and scratched the sensitive skin with her talons. I would have screamed out loud but she kissed me savagely on the lips before letting me slump to the floor.
“Come on loser – get your pants on and I’ll show you how to deal with Helen.” She said, picking up her gloves and walking out to the ring.
I lay on the floor for a moment examining my nether regions. She’d scratched my labia and it was bleeding so I shoved a few sheets of toilet paper up there before putting on my bikini briefs, wiping the tears from my eyes and following her out.
As I emerged from the changing room Helen and Lesley were already in the ring, with Suzi briefing them. I moved to the blue corner as Lesley returned to it.
“I hope she beats the crap out of you.” I hissed at her.
“Dream on.” She chuckled as she put in her gumshield and turned to face her opponent.
From the opening bell Lesley was all over Helen. It was a repeat of yesterday’s fight against Pauline with Lesley using her height, reach and power to pound the more squat, slower moving and heavier Helen.
Helen went down twice in round one and three more times on round two before the inevitable knockout followed in round three. Unlike Pauline she did actually manage to land a few blows of her own and the Irish woman actually took a standing count at one point but Helen was never really in contention.
Lesley returned to the blue corner with a satisfied smirk on her face.
“You’re next, Shaw,” She said, “But first let’s see what the headmistress makes of you.”
I stepped through the ropes and met Pauline and Suzi in the centre of the ring. Thanks to Lesley I was at a disadvantage psychologically before the fight even started and it probably showed on my face as we eyed each other up.
It’s fair to say round one was a pretty even affair. She came out fast and had me in a bit of trouble early on but I avoided the knockdown and fought back. Towards the end of the round I was dominating the action, using my slight reach advantage to deliver long range jabs that kept her on the back foot.
The trouble for me started midway through the second round when a hard left caught me on the right temple and dropped me to my hands and knees. I made it up at eight but two more knockdowns followed and I was decidedly on the back foot when the round ended and I retreated to my corner.
Ever the supportive second, Lesley thrust a bottle of water at me and hissed: “Save yourself more punishment Shaw. Quit while you’re behind. You’re going to need your strength tomorrow.”
Needless to say, that got my dander up and I went on the attack from the opening bell of round three. Initially it worked. I put Pauline on the deck twice in the first minute and, for a brief moment, I thought I’d won it when a left uppercut put her on her back half way through the round. She didn’t move until the count reached five but, somehow staggered up at nine.
That was when my luck ran out. Trying to take advantage of her weakened state I pushed forward but left myself exposed. A straight right from her caught me below the left breast, a left hook connected with my jaw and a right to the temple put me face down on the mat.
The first number I heard Suzi count was “five”. I pushed myself up to my hands and knees and stood, unsteadily, as the count reached nine. I raised my guard and Suzi waved Pauline back in. Now it was me on the defensive. I held her off for about thirty seconds, retreating all the way. But my jabs were pretty ineffective and, eventually, another hard right to my left breast dropped me to one knee for a much-needed breather. I took the full count to recover but remained on the back foot for the rest of the round.
When the bell sounded, I returned to my corner looking despondent, knowing I’d probably shot my bolt. I sat in silence, breathing hard and staring across the ring at my opponent. Despite being drenched in sweat she looked in a lot better shape than I felt. My left breast in particular had taken a beating and a quick glance down confirmed my suspicion that I’d have difficulty getting my bra on when it was time to go home.
Helen seemed to have recovered from her beating and was now tending to Pauline in the red corner. As the break drew to a close Lesley made a show of giving me a shoulder massage before, as the buzzer sounded for seconds out, leaning forward and hissing “Loser!” into my right ear.
The bell rang for the start of round four and we faced off again. With us both starting to tire this round was fairly even and uneventful. We danced around the ring and traded blows. We were both landing solid blows but neither of us went down until about 30 seconds from the end of the round when another straight right from her mangled my already swollen left breast.
My guard came down and a hard straight left caught me square on the nose. Christ! That hurt. My gloved hands went to my face and I dropped to my knees, tears welling up in my eyes. Had she broken my nose? I wasn’t sure but as I got to my feet I could feel and taste blood as it trickled from my nostrils into my mouth, down my chin and onto my sweaty tits.
We squared off again and I managed to hold her off until the end of the round. The bell sounded and I stumbled back to my corner, dripping blood on Lesley’s mats as I went.
Lesley said nothing as I slumped on the stool she’d put out for me. Instead, and to her credit, she switched into corner woman mode and attended to my injuries. Cotton swabs were unceremoniously stuck up my nostrils to stem the bleeding and Lesley used a damp cloth to wipe the blood from my chin and chest, lingering a while with her hand on my left breast assessing the swelling. I couldn’t supress a yelp when the bitch gave it a squeeze. Suzi heard my cry and came over to see if I was okay.
“Ellen, are you alright to carry on?” She asked.
“Yes, I’m fine, it’s just that she squeezed my tit and it hurts.”
Suzi turned to Lesley, who stared her down and said: “She’s a stubborn bitch. I’ve told her to give up but she won’t listen.”
Suzi replied: “As her second you’re supposed to support your fighter, not destroy her confidence or squeeze her tits. If you can’t be helpful just leave her alone.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want, I’ll have no more part of it.” said Lesley and, turning to me, added: “You’re on your own now loser.”
With that she pulled out the cotton swabs and stormed off to the kitchen. Suzi picked up the damp cloth and wiped my face.
“It’s okay Ellen,” she said, “The bleeding has stopped, just take care now.”
The buzzer sounded for seconds out and, in Lesley’s absence, Suzi did the honours of pushing the stool and other paraphernalia under the bottom rope.
The bell rang and we came out for round five. Keen to protect my injured face I covered up and tried to keep clear of Pauline’s wilder blows. She backed me up into a corner and I took a standing count. I knew I was behind – by my count I’d gone down six times to her three and taken at least one more standing count. I had to fight back if I was going to win.
For the next minute or so we went toe-to-toe in the middle of the ring until we fell into a mutual clinch and Pauline whispered in my ear: “God, Ellen, I’ll be glad when this is over.”
“Me too!” I replied as Suzi separated us and gave us both a standing count of eight.
When the action resumed, we went back to ducking and diving, both looking for that elusive opening that would take our opponent out. I rocked her with a few shots to the head but failed to put her down. She caught me with a few as well and then, in the closing seconds, slammed another hard right into my poor left titty.
I screamed and dropped to my hands and knees, clutching my abuse appendage. As Suzi counted over me, I glanced to my left to see Lesley, sat outside the ring, watching me with a smug expression on her face. I had no doubt what she’d be targeting when we met the next day.
The count had reached seven and I was about to stand up when the bell rang for the end of the round. I made my way back to my deserted corner, hooked the stool back under the bottom rope with my right foot, sat down and did my best to compose myself for a final push. Round six would be all or nothing for me. If I’d been scoring the rounds so far, I’d have given me one and a half and Pauline three and a half. Even if you ignored the judges’ scores, she was leading by at least nine points. I felt I had to put her away before the final bell if I was to win and prove myself to Lesley.
When the bell went for the start of the final round, I came out fists flying and pretty soon I had her on the deck. The good news was that she was tired, slow and, relatively, easy to hit. Three more knockdowns followed as I dominated the action but, every time, she managed to beat the count and when the bell rang for the last time she was still standing.
We were both exhausted, we pretty much fell into each other’s arms and hugged. It would be down to Suzi to decide the winner. I wondered if I’d done enough in the closing round to make up for my poor performance earlier. I suspected I hadn’t. I turned to go back to my corner but Suzi grabbed my wrist – it seemed she had already made her decision.
“Ladies, both fighters were still standing at the end of six rounds so it falls to me to make the decision. It was a close match but I believe one woman had the edge throughout most of the fight. Your winner is…Pauline!”
She raised Pauline’s arm and then turned to me, apologetically saying: “Sorry Ellen.”
I felt myself deflate, two fights and two losses. I hung my head and walked back to my corner where I sat for a moment recovering before taking off my gloves. I slipped through the ropes and made my way back to the left side dressing room where I untied my sweat-soaked bikini briefs and had a much-needed pee before making my way to join the other in the tub.
Once again Lesley had transformed from queen bitch to convivial hostess and we spent a pleasant hour laughing a joking together. When it was time to leave, I didn’t even try to put my bra on. A quick glance down told me my left breast was twice the size of my right one. How to go from a C cup to an E cup in no time without surgery? Just let a frustrated school teacher punch your titties for half an hour.
On the drive home Suzi apologised again for awarding the fight to Pauline but I reassured her that she did the right thing. Pauline definitely had the better of me for most of the fight.
“That Lesley’s a bit of a bitch one the quiet.” Observed the Marshall’s CEO.
“Tell me about it.” I replied.
“She seems to have it in for you – is that because you beat her last year.”
“Oh, it’s not just me, she had it in for Sian and Terri as well.”
I then proceeded to tell Suzi about our trip to Sian’s the previous autumn, something only those who were there knew about (although I had confided in Erica). She listened intently to my account of Lesley destroying Sian in the ring, beating the crap out of me the next morning and then threatening to do the same to Terri. As she dropped me off at the cottage she said: “It sounds like you’ll have your work cut out tomorrow. Get some rest and I’ll pick you up from the shop around five-thirty.”
It was still only about 10pm but I was exhausted. I walked into the kitchen and took an ice pack out of the freezer, poured myself a glass of wine, slipped out of my clothes and settled down naked in an arm chair with the ice pack draped over my poor left breast. I woke up around 2am, still in the chair with a freezing cold, soaking wet let tit. At least the swelling seemed to have gone down – I’d be able to get my bra on in the morning.
**************
I slept badly that night, a combination of too much wine, worrying about the fight and the fact that every time I lay on my left tit I almost hit the ceiling.
I dreamed about the beatings I’d suffered at Lesley’s hands in the past. How she pulverised my pussy all those years ago, how she’d left me hanging on the ropes at CLAWS the year before and how she’d beaten my half senseless at Sian’s on that Sunday morning last September. All the while her words from the previous evening were ringing in my ears: “You clearly aren’t in our class.”
Thursday was a work day for me and I spent it in the shop with Carrie, my sister and business partner. I love my work, which is just as well because in the summer we’re open seven days a week. I’m there most days and I even like to stop by to check up on my little sis on my days off. Today I was distracted and she sensed it fairly quickly.
“Are you okay, honey?” She asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I replied.
“No, you’re not. You’ve been fighting again. Don’t think I can’t tell. I can see where you’ve used foundation to cover your bruises and your arms and boobs look a mess.”
Well, she had me sussed, it was mid-summer and hot. In the shop I wore jeans and a loose-fitting cheesecloth top that left my arms and ample cleavage on display. Although I’d used makeup on my face the bruises on my arms and tits from the past couple of days were starting to show. If she noticed others probably would as well. I confessed to her:
“I’ve been boxing. We’re fighting three times over three evenings – tonight is the last one.”
“Oh Ellen, I really wish…”
“I know, I know but it’s part of me. I can’t give it up.”
“Ellen, for fucks sake, you’ll be sixty next year. You can’t keep doing it forever. I hope the girls you’re fighting are your sort of age as well.”
“Okay, you’re right, maybe next year I’ll stop, and yes, since you ask, we’re all in our fifties.”
“How have you got on this time?”
I looked at her and felt the tears well up as I half sobbed: “I’ve lost both my fights so far and I think I’m going to lose tonight as well.”
She reached across and hugged me: “There, there Ellen. I know it means a lot to you but I think that you should take that as a sign. You’ve had your fun. Give it up before you get seriously hurt.”
I let out an involuntary yip as she pulled me closer. She let go and looked at me with concerned eyes.
“Sorry honey... Left booby… Took a bit of a beating last night… Rather tender right now…” I managed between sobs and sniffs. She smiled a sad smile and said: “Take care big sister, I love you, you know that don’t you?”
With that she hugged me again and then let me go. I sniffed back my tears and the spell was broken as a customer walked in.
************
We had a good day in the shop. Carrie left me to lock up around 5pm and at five-thirty Suzi’s Range Rover pulled up outside. I wasn’t quite ready so invited her to come in and browse while I finished up.
She wandered around the chaos that is my shop come workshop. Carrie and I hold crafting classes in the summer as well as doing our own art, selling work for other artists, art supplies and other curiosities – I love geology: rocks, crystals, fossils and sea glass jewellery is very trendy at the moment. Carrie is very into mystical stuff so there’s horoscopes and tarots and native charms and books on meditation, runes and divining as well as incense and essential oils. And dotted around the place are various paintings in progress. To the untrained eye it’s a tip but I know exactly where everything is.
“You have some beautiful stuff here Ellen, I must come back and have a proper look some time.”
“Please do, I’m here most days, ten ‘til five. Okay, I’m ready, let’s go.” I grabbed my bag and followed her out to the car, locking the shop and setting the alarm as I went.
Driving over to Lesley’s, Suzi asked me how I felt about tonight. I was honest:
“I’m really not that confident. I honestly think I’m past it. I’m exhausted. I’m not used to three fights in three days. And watching the way Lesley demolished Pauline and Helen, I can’t see me lasting more than two rounds.”
“Nonsense Ellen,” She said reassuringly, “You’ve just been unlucky. You came very close to beating Pauline and you’d have beaten Helen if you’d managed to keep out of her way a bit more. Lesley’s your age. I don’t deny she’s a powerful boxer but she must be feeling it too. You’re taller than the other two so she won’t be able to use her height and reach as much on you. I think she’s a lot less sure of herself than she appears. I honestly think you have a good chance against her, just don’t let her psyche you out.”
I thought back to all Lesley’s “positive” comments the day before. Suzi was right. The bitch was just trying to psyche me out. I hardened my resolve and told myself I could beat her. My determination lasted until we arrived at Lesley’s and the mind games began again.
Today I was in the right changing room with Helen, fighting out of the red corner. That was another bit of Lesley psyche. She knew about my preference for the ‘lucky’ blue corner, something the CLAWS girls let me have nine times out of ten, and for the first two days that’s where she’d put me. But against her? Well, why not swap corners and play a few more mind games. Maybe Suzi was right, maybe Lesley was afraid of me. After all I was still two-one up on our encounters.
As we changed, Helen and I chatted. I didn’t really know her; I’d fought her before we’d really spoken the other day and it had been years since our only league encounter at CLAWS. I remember back then she wasn’t very sociable so, again, I didn’t get the chance to know her. Chatting with the others in the tub is one thing but you only really get to know someone one-on-one. Fortunately for me Helen wasn’t like Lesley. She was charming and very supportive. She was sure I had a better chance against Lesley than she’d had.
“Ellen, you’ve got the height. Use it. You’ve got a good jab. Use that as well. She has a hard punch but she often leaves herself open. You’ve beaten her before; you can do it again.”
I didn’t like to mention that the only reason I’d won last time was because she started showboating when she thought I was finished. I also didn’t mention what had happened at Sian’s.
All too soon we were changed and back in the combat zone. Helen stepped into the ring to face Pauline and I wished her luck.
After a short briefing from Suzi the girl returned to their corners. Lesley pushed the button on the kitchen wall. The bell rang and the two girls faced off. For three rounds the action was fairly even. Both went down a couple of times but neither seemed in serious trouble. Between rounds I offered encouragement to Helen, although I was secretly rooting for Pauline, my old friend and tag team partner who had come back into my life after so many years.
The fight came to an abrupt end half way through the fourth round when a solid right hook from Helen connected with Pauline’s jaw. Pauline went down in a heap, out cold. I shouted at her to get up (perhaps a diplomatic error) but she made no attempt to move as Suzi counted her out and lay motionless for another 10 seconds or so after that before stirring and slowly sitting up, rubbing her jaw. Helen sportingly helped her to her feet and the old friends hugged as Suzi declared Helen the winner.
All of which brings us to the here and now.
*************
It’s time for the final match of our little tournament, my last chance to win something and save my honour.
Lesley and I step into the ring and she stares across at me before grabbing the sides of her thong, slipping it down her long legs and kicking it off. Then she puts on her green gloves and stands naked but for those gloves.
“Come on Ellen.” She goads me. “Let’s pick up where we left off last time. Or are you still a bit bald down below?”
I glance across at her and see that she has allowed her pubes to grow and now sports a red triangle of hair around her labia. More psychology from the queen bitch. The gauntlet’s down, no option but to accept the challenge. Reluctantly I untie the strings on my bikini and let it fall to the mat. I’m still shaved but my thatch is a bit thicker than it was last time we met.
Suzi looks at us both and beckons us to her briefing: “Ladies, I want a good clean fight. I see you’ve opted to fight naked. I would remind you that blows below the panty line are illegal and will result in you getting a penalty. As neither of you are wearing any pants it will be up to me to decide where your panty line is – is that clear.”
We both nod and she sends us back to our corners. The next 10 seconds feel like hours but eventually the bell rings and we square off.
We start circling. She throws out a few jabs and I brush them aside. She moves forward and I see an opening. Going low as a jab just misses my left ear, I fire off a right uppercut. It catches her jaw and she sits down hard. First blood to me. I walk to a neutral corner, my confidence boosted, as Suzi starts counting.
Lesley makes it up at seven and doesn’t look best pleased. When Suzi says “box on” she launches herself at me, fists flying. I do my best to cover up and ride things out until she tires but I’m taking a pounding. As predicted, she focuses her attacks on my left breast, knowing how tender it must be. I do my best to block her punches by a few get through and pretty soon my poor titty is stinging like hell. Eventually she backs me into a corner. Suzi steps in and I get a standing count of eight. At least I’m clear of her now and can regroup.
For the next minute or so we go back to dancing and jabbing until I spot another opening. I duck under her guard and a right-left-right combination to her tits and solar-plexus drops her to her knees for a count of eight. This time it looks like I might have done some damage as she’s slower when the action resumes and goes on the defensive, holding me off until the end of the round.
During the break Helen is full of praise and encouragement and I come out for round two with my confidence high.
Lesley has clearly given herself a stiff talking to because, once again, she attacks from the opening bell. Once again, I’m forced to cover up and ride out the assault. I manage to avoid the corner and break free a couple of times but I never quite manage to take the fight to her. Once again, she targets my left boob relentlessly. Then, about a minute into the round, a right uppercut parts my tits and drops me to one knee, my first knockdown of the fight. I might have won round one but right now she’s dominating round two.
I get to my feet at seven but Suzi gives me the full nine count before waving Lesley back in. Having had a chance to collect myself I use my jab to keep her at bay and the dance resumes until I finally see an opening again. A series of lefts and rights tears her guard apart and a right uppercut connects with her jaw and puts her down on her back.
For a moment it looks like I might have won but at the count of five she rolls over and pushes up to her hands and knees. From where I’m standing in the neutral corner, I get a full view of her naked arse and the gap between her legs. Damn it! She has a fine figure for a woman of her age. I feel myself getting wet just looking at her trying to get up. FFS, not now Ellen – you’re trying to fight her, not fuck her. She gets shakily to her feet as the count reaches nine. Suzi checks if she wants to continue and she nods a ‘yes’ and I do my best to compose myself as I’m waved back in. For the next thirty seconds or so I chase her round the ring until she throws her arms around my neck and pulls me into a clinch.
“Fuck you, Shaw,” She hisses in my ear, “I’m going to knock you into next week, loser.”
In response I simply lick her ear. I know she gets turned on by fighting and a little shiver from her in response to my lick suggests she’s horny as hell. I take a chance and slip my gloved left hand between her legs and give her a quick rub. She moans but before I can go any further Suzi separates us and gives Lesley a standing count of eight. She waves me back in but the bell sounds almost immediately and we retreat to our corners. I make it two-nil to me and so does an excited Helen who wipes the sweat off my face and boobs and enthuses: “Keep going Ellen, another round like this and you’ll have her beaten.”
I’m not so sure. As I look across at Lesley, eschewing Pauline’s offers of water and a towel, I can see the frustration on her face. She knows she’s the better boxer. She’s dominated the other girls but now finds herself behind for the first time in the contest – and to the woman who she described as “not in her class”.
The seconds out buzzer goes for round three. I get to my feet and steel myself for her assault. The bell sounds and, once again, she charges across the ring and attacks me before I’m even clear of my corner. She’s relentless. I cover up and retreat but there’s nothing else I can do. Suddenly I see stars and I’m on my hands and knees looking down at my gumshield on the mat.
I hear Suzi’s voice somewhere in the distance, counting “Six!... Seven!...” and Helen screaming “For fuck’s sake Ellen, get up!”. I push myself to my feet and Suzi stops counting at nine, picks up my gumshield and helps me put it back in. Over her shoulder I can see Lesley in the neutral corner, hopping from one foot to the other and pounding her gloves together. Suzi asks me if I want to continue. My head is aching and I feel woozy but I tell her ‘yes’ and resume my guard as she waves Lesley back in.
We continue our long-range dance but it’s Lesley all the way now. I’m retreating and, although I’m still throwing out punches, more and more of hers are hitting home. Eventually it all gets too much for me. She backs me into the ropes and I take a much-needed breather as Suzi gives me a standing count of nine. I glance down at my aching left boob and see a trickle of blood leaking from the swollen orb.
When the action resumes, I’ve recovered a bit, or at least I think I have, and I start taking the fight to her again. I’m forcing her back when a right jab hits my temple and stuns me. I hesitate for a second and then everything goes black.
When I open my eyes, I’m lying on the deck with Suzi crouched beside me.
“Are you okay?” She asks.
“Yes,” I reply, “Have I lost?”
“No, you were saved by the bell. She hit you with an upper cut to your jaw. You’ve been out about fifteen seconds but the bell went at six. Now get to your corner and let Helen help you get ready for the next round. Oh, and keep fighting Ellen, you can win this. Good luck!”
She gets up and walks away while I push myself to my feet and stagger back to where Helen is waiting in the corner. I can feel a trickle of something running down the right side of my face. Is it sweat or blood? I don’t know but Helen quickly confirms that, as well as the cut on my left breast, I have a cut above my right eyebrow – something else for Carrie to scold me about tomorrow.
I slump in the corner, deflated, as Helen stems the bleeding from my cut. I’m exhausted. The last round has knocked the fight out of me and my confidence is shattered. I look across the ring and see that Lesley isn’t even sitting on her stool. She’s standing up and pulling on the ropes. She looks fresh as a daisy and I remember her threat to punch me into next week. I can also see the glint of sticky love juices running down her thighs. She’s a vicious bitch and she’s highly aroused. I figure I’m done for as the buzzer sounds for seconds out and we get ready to face off for round four.
The bell sounds and she waltzes out again. For the first minute or so I do my best to keep it open but the pattern follows the that of the previous round with her landing two or three blows to my one and me retreating. I clinch for respite and she takes advantage, pressing her right fist into my poor left boobie. I wince and, again, she hisses in my ear: “You’re mine now Shaw, I’m going to make you suffer.”
Once again, I try to slide my right hand between her legs. I know she’s turned on and my only hope is to get her to cum and knock her out while she does. But she’s wise to me and clamps her legs shut saying: “Oh, no you don’t, gay girl.”
Suzi separates us and gives me a standing count of eight. She waves Lesley back in and, before I can resume my guard, she clocks me with a solid right hook to my left temple. I go down on my right side and roll onto my belly, letting Suzi’s count rise before pushing up to my hands and knees. The splashes of blood appearing on the mat confirm she’s opened up the cut again and, as I get to my feet, I can feel the blood trickling down my cheek.
I manage to hold her off for a few seconds before a left uppercut drops me to my knees again. I just manage to beat the count but go down again almost immediately to a right hook to the jaw. I stagger to my feet again but I can’t take much more of this.
As the fourth round draws to a close, she’s toying with me. I’m almost out on my feet but she’s not rushing to put me away. Instead, she just keeps hitting me with jabs to tits and face. Both my boobs are now swollen and I’ve no doubt my lips are as well. Blood from my cut is mixing with my sweat and starting to run into my eye. It stings and makes me blink. What makes it worse is I can see her pubes glistening with her juices. Just like in our fight last year she’s getting turned on by beating me up.
Filthy bitch! I try to muster the energy to knock her down like I did last year but I’m too far gone. I launch a left-right combination at her head but she blocks the first punch and the second one lacks power. She pays me back with a straight right that flattens my left tit and leaves me gasping for breath clutching it. Suzi steps in and gives me another standing count before asking: “Ellen, are you sure you want to continue?”
With tears in my eyes, I nod yes and we face off again. More torture follows as she pounds my body before going for the coup de grace. Just seconds before the end of the round she closes on me and launches a solid right uppercut aimed directly at my love box. It hits home, lifting me off the mat. I scream and pass out. When I come to, I can hear Lesley screaming at Suzi to count me out but Suzi refuses:
“CLAWS rules mean Tee’s Law.” She patiently explains to the irate Irishwoman. “You delivered a low blow so the round is over and Ellen is allowed to recover. That was blatant and you’re damned lucky I don’t disqualify you – do it again and you’re out.”
I hear Lesley mumbling “bitch” and other choice words as she walks back to her corner. I lie on the mat clutching myself and sobbing. I’m in agony. Eventually Suzi comes over and asks me if I want to continue. Through sobs I manage a “yes” and a few seconds later the bell rings. I haven’t even made it back to my corner. My face is still covered in blood and my right eye is full of it. Suzi starts counting over me as I roll over onto all fours and push myself to my feet.
Helen and Pauline are both shouting encouragement to me. I get to my feet at nine and Suzi waves Lesley back in. I do my best to keep her at bay but it’s hopeless. Less than a minute into the fifth round I’ve been knocked down twice more and only just beaten the count on both occasions. I’m tired and aching and my left tit and pussy are on fire. I’m in agony.
I decide to do something I’ve never done in a fight before – give up. As Suzi waves Lesley back in I lower my guard and spread my arms wide, presenting her with an open target.
“Just knock me out and get it over with.” I mumble as she moves within striking range. Helen and Pauline suddenly go quiet as they realise what’s happening. A straight right flattens my left breast, a left quickly follows and does the same to my right breast. A right uppercut hits my jaw and everything goes black.
When I open my eyes; I’m lying on my back. Suzi is staring down at me shaking her head. When she sees my eyes open, she says: “She’s awake” and turns away. I later discover I’d been out for almost a minute and Suzi was getting concerned.
Lesley comes into view. She stands either side of my tits and says: “Ladies, let me introduce our ultimate loser – Ellen Shaw.”
I raise my head and start to push myself up but she looks at me and says “Stay there, loser – it’s payback time.”
Then she kneels on my shoulders, her sticky, wet snatch just inches from my face. I know what she wants. I lift my head and move my mouth towards her bush.
“That’s the way, loser, kiss your mistress on the pussy.”
I go to oblige but as my lips touch her labia, she releases her bladder and a stream of piss pours into my mouth and over my face. I drop my head back to the mat coughing and spluttering as she howls with laughter and I burst into tears.
Postscript:
Bladder empty and showboating over, Lesley stood up, pulled off her gloves (which she threw at me), climbed out of the ring and headed for the hot tub. I just lay there weeping in a pool of her piss. Suzi, Helen and Pauline helped me up and back to the changing room. They cleaned me up and stuck me under the shower and then Helen and Pauline disappeared, presumably to join their host in the hot tub. Suzi sat with me a while before suggesting I get dressed so she could take me home. I was in no mood to be sociable. Certainly not with someone who’d just pissed in my face. We left without saying goodbye so not only did Ellen Shaw give up, she also ran away.
Back home I went straight to bed and lay there, weeping, for most of the night. I was ashamed, embarrassed and hurt. Carrie’s words kept ringing in my ears: “Take it as a sign. Give it up before you get seriously hurt.” Along with Lesley’s admonishments: “You’re not really in our class.” I could have beaten the bitch, I know I could, but instead she beat me and humiliated me by pissing in my face. Perhaps they were right. Maybe I just don't have it any more. Perhaps I should give up. But perhaps I should also try to get my revenge before I do.
