The third of my beginnings stories features another of my favourite characters Jan. like Sian and Tee, Jan is a single mother. But unlike them it’s not by choice. Jan was happily married and living in Spain when disaster struck. Her husband was killed in a motorcycle accident she returned to the UK with a one-year-old daughter.
Unlike Tee and myself she never stopped fighting. Instead, she managed to fit her passion around parenthood and building a successful catering business.
Three women are key to Jan’s story. Two are fighters, two are lovers, one is both. Over the years Jan has crossed paths with many of my other characters as well. although she didn’t fight at CLAWS until she was in her 50s she became a regular fighter in the senior tournaments for a number of years until she and Peggy announced their retirements in 2018.
It was Jan who convince me to come out of retirement in 2008 and reawaken I love a fighting for Jan that love and never gone away.
This story jumps about a bit compared to my earlier efforts as I follow the different threads of Jan’s adventures.
You can read more about Jan in my stories “The present”, “Your ring, my rules” and “Call yourself a cat fighter?” among others but her long career and varied style leaves scope for plenty of untold stories. If you have a particular fantasy you’d like to see Jan in, let me know and I’ll see what I can do.
I hope you enjoy it.
Ellen X
England in the early 1980s wasn’t a great place to be if you were a factory worker like me. Early in the summer of 1983 the factory I was working in closed down. I was just 21 and unemployed with no real prospects. I’d dropped out of school early and had no formal qualifications. With nothing to look forward to, myself and three girlfriends decided to take a holiday.
One of the girls had an old van, we packed a load of camping gear in the back of it, took a ferry across the channel and headed down through France to Spain. We ended up on in Andalusia, east of Malaga. In those days it wasn’t the tourist mecca that it is these days, it was still wild and remote. There were lots of hippies and bikers and people like us, just drifting around looking for a place to rest away from the grind and the cold and the damp of Northern Europe. We had a wonderful time. Weeks of easy living, beautiful beaches, friendly company and nice places to eat and drink. It was cheap back then as well. But eventually money started running short.
We’d been frequenting this bar, a kind of tapas bar come nightclub called La Cantina, run by a brother and sister – Carlos and Jacinda. They had good music there and great food. It was a real biker hang out, a party place, lots of live bands and sometimes erotic entertainment, strippers and girls who wrestled. It was new and exotic for us English factory girls.
Some nights they would invite girls from the audience to join in with the wrestling. They got tips from the people watching and the owners usually paid them a bit as well. It was fun to watch and we found it quite exciting. One evening when we were drinking in La Cantina watching the wrestling one of the girls suggested one of us should wrestle to raise some cash.
We drew straws for it and I lost, or perhaps I won who knows. When they ask for a volunteer from the audience to fight that evening, I put my hand up. I was soon in the little fighting pit, pitched against a local girl. She fought in a bikini, me in my bra and knickers as I didn’t have my bikini with me. Lubricated with little baby oil the fighting wasn’t really that serious, it was more sensual than anything else. I won that single submission match. Then another girl challenged me and I fought again I won again. In total that night I took on three girls and beat them all. At the end of the evening Carlos paid me and, combined with the tips that I got from the guys watching, we had enough money to see us through a week.
The next week I was back again and fighting again, but in my bikini. This time things got a little bit sexier when one of the girls ripped my bikini top off. I did the same to her and suddenly the place came alive. I won that fight so I fought another girl, again topless and again I won. The crowd were loving it. That evening Carlos paid me even more.
It looked like our future here was secure, but I was the one doing all the work. I asked the other girls if they wanted to step into the ring the following week. At first, they were all reluctant but eventually Pam, my best friend, agreed to join me for a tag team match against a couple of local girls. Pam was a bit of a prude, she didn’t want to take her top off. The rest of us said “fuck it” and fought topless. I would’ve beaten the other two easily but Pam wasn’t really a fighter and they managed to take her down, got her bra off and made her submit. That was my first loss and it wasn’t my fault. I fought both the girls separately later that evening and I beat them both.
Again, we were handsomely paid but when we got back to the van at the end of the evening Pam swore she would never fight again. A week later she took the train back to England in search of real work. The other two girls, Mary and Sue, stayed on with me for another month but with the summer drawing to a close it seemed they were also ready to get back to home. me I was happy to stay on. They left me with a tent, a bike we’d rescued along the way and all the cooking gear and drove off in Mary’s van back to Blighty.
A couple of weeks after they’d all left, I went to fight at La Cantina as usual and found myself facing a big blonde German girl. I don’t remember much about that fight. she beat me pretty badly. I guess I got complacent. I hadn’t lost a fight since that night with Pam. I thought I was invincible but it only takes one good fighter to burst your bubble. I took a real beating at the hands of this lady. Whatever happened I was unconscious and I woke up in Carlos’ arms as he carried me out to the back of La Cantina. In the kitchen area, where is Jacinda ruled the roost, they patched me up as best they could. Then they gave me a bed for the night. I was truly grateful and I saw Carlos as my hero.
I stayed on with Carlos and Jacinda, helping out around La Cantina. As the summer came to an end and things began to calm down, I still wasn’t ready to go home. I had no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I just hoped the Carlos and Jacinda would let me stay on helping them. To be honest I knew that I’d fallen for Carlos. The good news was that he’d fallen for me as well and Jacinda was happy to see her brother happy. The three of us became a team and as Carlos and I fell in love, I also fell in love with working at La Cantina.
Carlos was a great biker and over the winter months, when the roads were quiet, we had many wonderful adventures riding up into the high mountains on the twisty mountain roads, the wind in our hair. I was having the time of my life. The following spring many of those hippies and bikers came flocking back to this rough neck area of the country. La Cantina started to swing again and once again the entertainment started. When the wrestling started again, I was kind of a house champion, wrestling in the pit and beating all comers. I just loved it. Another summer came and went and then another. Our place was gaining a reputation in the underground female fight scene across Europe and many girls from the UK, Germany and elsewhere came to fight in our little pit, including a couple of girls from CLAWS, Leah Foster and Christine Bennett, the latter of whom I would meet again when I fought at CLAWS years later. I don’t recall how my fights with Leah and Christine went back then but I know they were both tough opponents who beat me more than once.
In ‘86 Carlos and I decided to get married. A while after that I fell pregnant and I had to give up fighting. I missed it but giving birth to our daughter Paige was a bonus and I could still organise what was going on in the bar.
Six months after Paige was born, I returned to fighting. I admit that I wasn’t invincible any more, a couple of good fighters were giving me a run for my money (later they became my life savers), but I still won more than I lost.
Then, one day when Paige was about a year old, Carlos went out on his bike and he never came back. the police say he swerved to avoid a truck on the twisty Mountain Road and went over a cliff. At 25 I was a single mother and the love of my life was dead. Jacinda and I were both heartbroken. She loved her brother as much as I did. Together we continued to run La Cantina through the winter but I knew eventually I would have to go back to England. I couldn’t stay here forever, not in his bar with his memory hanging over me every day.
Back in England I moved in with my mum, who doted on her new granddaughter, while I figured out what I was going to do next. I really didn’t have much of an idea. 25 years old already widow with no qualifications what could I do? I fell back on the skills I’d learnt from Jacinda in the kitchen of La Cantina and with the help of my old friends from the factory, Pam and Sue, set up a business catering for parties and weddings. It was surprisingly successful and I really enjoyed doing it, although part of me still missed fighting.
The two girls from the La Cantina fights that I stayed in touch with were Peggy and Evie. Between them they saved my sanity and helped me follow my passion for fighting.
Peggy was an American porn star who loved to fight. Back home in California she appeared in many cat fighting and wrestling videos but, unlike some of her opponents in those videos, she was really into fighting. When she wasn’t working, she toured around Europe and Asia looking for places and people to fight. It was inevitable that she would end up at La Cantina and that she and I would fight.
Over two or three visits I fought Peggy at least ten times. She also seduced me and we had a discreet lesbian relationship behind Carlos’ back. Don’t get me wrong. I loved the man, but I loved the woman as well.
When Carlos died, Peggy flew over from the States to comfort me and, ultimately, helped me move back to the UK where she visited me many times. Peggy had an exceptionally long career in her profession and, thanks to a rather over the top boob job (42F would you believe), was still appearing in Californian porn movies fighting topless against bimbos half her age when she was in her late forties. By the time she first appeared at CLAWS she was already 54 but looking like 40.
When I’d been back in England for a year or so I wrote to Peggy saying how much I missed fighting. By return of post she sent me a long letter encouraging me to get fighting again together with a list of private contacts she’d made on her travels, girls who would be willing to take me on. Over the next ten to fifteen years I enjoyed a tussle with most of them. Thanks to her I was drawn into a secret network of fighting women. Initially I made all the approaches but, as my reputation grew, I received many challenges.
On a couple of occasions I took Paige with me on trips to stay with Peggy in California. Needless to say, these trips involved sharing pleasure and pain with Peggy and her friends. I even got to star in a couple of her movies.
Peggy and I have always enjoyed an open relationship. Although I have never had another man since Carlos died both Peggy and I have had many female companions and often shared them. Although I have sometimes been surprised by her choice in girlfriends, I have never held it against her and we always have time for each other.
Evie was a buxom, bubbly blonde from Manchester who arrived at Carlos’ place in ‘87 and did pretty much what I’d done four years before. Paying her way through the summer by working the bar and fighting. I was heavily pregnant that summer and I suspect Evie satisfied Carlos’ needs as well as replacing me as the local champion (at least until Peggy paid her annual visit).
Paige was born in early September and a couple of weeks later Evie headed home. I thought I’d never get to fight her but the following year she was back and I was back up to strength. Over the course of the summer we fought nine times and it ended five-four to me. I was convinced she was shagging Carlos behind my back and I was determined to have it out with him after she left. I never got the chance because a few days later he took his fateful road trip and my world fell apart.
Back in England two years later I was itching for a fight and got in touch with Evie again. She was excited to hear from me. She told me that she had returned to Spain the year after I left and helped Jacinda out at the Cantina but had then found a permanent job in Stockport and could no longer take long summer breaks. She also told me that she had started a nude fighting club with a few of her friends, the naked bitches fighting club or NBFC. She invited me to visit her and take part in one of their sessions.
One weekend in February ‘92 I left 4-year-old Paige with her grandma and headed north for the weekend. I arrived at Evie’s on Friday evening and, after supper at a local pub, we sat up talking and drinking late into the night. I woke late the next morning but, thankfully, not hungover. In the early afternoon Evie drove us to an anonymous looking building in a back street in the east of the city. She unlocked a side door and we entered a corridor. Taking the third door on the left We entered a small room where neat piles of clothes were laid out on chairs. Evie beckoned me to take my clothes off and put them on one of the vacant chairs.
When we were both naked, Evie led me though another door into a room full of naked women. The first thing that caught my attention was that one of them, a girl with raven black hair, was only about 2 years old while the rest were in their twenties and thirties.
“Who’s the little girl?” I asked Evie.
“That’s Sian’s girl, Shannon.” She replied. “Sian believes she should grow up experiencing everything her mother does. You’ll like Sian. At least I hope you will. You’re wrestling her later.”
The whole atmosphere was very informal. The girls chatted and gossiped like they were out for a drink or a meal while little Shannon ran from one to another receiving hugs and praise, even on the one occasion when, in her excitement, she pee’d on the floor. (A towel was quickly found to mop up.)
But whenever two girls got into the ring things got more serious, with the rest of the women taking sides and shouting encouragement to one or other combatant.
I watched the fights with interest. Most were wrestling matches fought over five falls but at least one pair boxed. Some of the girls were good, some not so, and I started making a list of who I’d like to fight. The format for the afternoon was one fight, then a thirty-minute break followed by another fight. This meant it was nearly 6pm when Sian and I finally stepped into the ring together for the fifth fight of the afternoon. By that time I’d got to know both her and many of the other girls quite well.
As Evie had predicted, Sian and I hit it off like a house on fire. Paige was about a year older than Shannon so we had a lot in common. She lived up in the hills east of the city, on a small farm, and she invited me to bring Paige up and stay with them the next time I came.
In the ring we were also very compatible and our fight was very close. She was quite physical but also knew how to arouse a girl and several times I found myself quite turned on. Eventually, after nearly 30 minutes, I secured the fifth fall to win the match.
After my fight, Evie took on a powerful younger girl called Terri, who beat her 3-1 and then everyone went out for a meal together, it was very civilised. Later back at Evie’s place I told her who I’d like to fight next, with Terri being top of my list. Sadly, she said it didn’t work that way at the NBFC. Opponents were chosen by a draw with Evie and Sian pulling names from a hat. I would have to wait until Terri and I were matched up.
It turned out that Terri was living with Sian at the time. I hoped that an opportunity to fight outside the NBFC would emerge during one of our stays at the farm but it never did. Sian and Terri didn’t fight at home and after a couple visits to the farm I arrived one day to find that Terri left to go back to college. So, while I got to fight many girls at the NBFC It would be another 25 years before I finally got my wish to fight Terri, or Miss Tee as she had become known by then.
For the next few years visits to Sian and Shannon became regular events and the sight of two young girls mingling with the naked ladies at the NBFC became normal. But as Paige approached puberty, for reasons I can’t explain, I became a bit prudish - perhaps I’d seen a couple of the girls eyeing her up as her figure started filling out. We still visited Sian and Shannon regularly but I stopped going to the NBFC meetings and I wouldn’t allow Paige to take her clothes off in public again until she turned 18. When she did it was at CLAWS not the NBFC.
The NBFC only met four times a year and I could usually only make two of those. Between meetings I satisfied my urges by fighting the girls on Peggy’s list. Venues were a problem but I found a couple of places I could hire discreetly and many of my opponents had their own, some even in their own houses.
Meanwhile my catering business was taking off. Pam and Sue still helped me prepare the food but I did all the up-front stuff, talking to clients, taking booking, doing tastings and overseeing the setups on the big days themselves. I also created most of the menus. UK tastes were getting more cosmopolitan and the tapas recipes I picked up from Jacinda became very popular for wedding buffets.
I did more and more weddings and the more I did the more I ran into a young woman photographer. Jill Montrose was probably seven years younger than me and was working her way through a visual arts degree at the local university. She did wedding photography at weekends to earn pocket money.
Occasionally, because mum was busy, I had to take Paige along to some of the weddings and Jill always helped look after her. I worried that Jill never seemed to get any food at these events and after one of them I offered her a box of leftover pastries. She politely declined explaining that she was celiac and couldn’t eat wheat. I’d heard of the condition but knew little about it. I did a little research and at our next meeting I presented her with a special gluten free snack box. She thanked me and later told me it was delicious.
It was a gateway to a whole new market for me. At the time dietary issues weren’t really catered for. Today I have a chain of five restaurants and a catering company all specialising in diet intolerances and have several of my recipes licensed to a big food manufacturer.
My friendship with Jill grew and when I was able to move out of mum’s place and have a home of my own, I invited her over to dinner, saying she could stay the night if she liked. To cut a long story short we got a bit tiddly and she confessed she was a lesbian. Well, that was it for me. I hadn’t had a man or woman in over two years and I was desperate for sex. We had a passionate night together and, for better or worse, young Paige found us in each other’s arms the next morning. Although we never became an ‘item’ Jill and I have enjoyed each other on many occasions and remain close friends.
The more I got to know Jill the more I wanted to tell her about my dark side, about the fighting I enjoyed so much, but I didn’t know how she would react. By this time, I’d become a regular visitor to the NBFC as well as hosting fights with individuals closer to home. If nothing else I wanted to ask Jill to film my fights, not least so I could share them with Peggy, who bombarded me with her latest exploits.
One evening in early ‘94 Jill invited Paige and me to dinner at her place. While Jill and I chatted in the kitchen six-year-old Paige explored the small apartment and studio complex Jill was renting. Suddenly there was a squeal and she came rushing in from the studio:
“Mummy, mummy, auntie Jill has a picture of auntie Sian on her wall!”
I looked quizzically at Jill and the two of us followed Paige back to the studio. There on the wall, among many other fine photographs, was a picture I’d last seen in Sian’s kitchen six months earlier. It showed a smiling Sian holding an infant Shannon with a rather reluctant looking Terri beside her. I looked at Jill for an explanation.
“How do you know these women?” I asked.
“I don’t.” She replied. “This was my first assignment as a cub photographer on my local paper about five years ago. The story was that a farmer gave birth in a blizzard and the farm hand delivered the baby with a doctor advising her over the phone. Are they friends of yours?”
“Oh yes,” I replied, “Sian is a friend and so is her daughter. We’ve known them for a couple of years. They’re coming to visit us in a few weeks’ time. What a small world this is.”
This was my chance; I had already made a private booking at a small hall so that Sian and I could fight while she was her. Sue had agreed to referee for me but I desperately wanted Jill to film the fight.
After dinner, when Paige had settled for the night, I asked Jill if she fancied videoing something a little different to a wedding. She said yes but I don’t think she expected it to be a fight. She was shocked at first but when I explained how it would work she agreed. One thing she did say was never to ask her to fight me, a promise I kept for the next 12 years.
My fight with Sian was a great success. Jill captured the action without getting in the way and although I lost (the only time Sian ever beat me) the resulting video was beautiful. I sent a copy to Peggy and she said it was the best camera work she’d seen.
From that day on Jill filmed all my local fights and even travelled to Sian’s with me to film a few NBFC events. I think she enjoyed some of the other girls while she was there as well. She certainly enjoyed the filming. She might not have been a fighter herself but she got off on watching two women go at each other and knew just where to put her camera to capture the action.
During the 90s Peggy visited us on several occasions and I took her to a couple of NBFC events as well as arranging a few private events closer to home. She also enjoyed Jill’s company as well as that of Sian and a couple of the other NBFC girls.
By the end of the 90s email had replaced PO Boxes and communication got much easier. One day in early 2000 I got a message from a lady who said that she ran a health club in the city about 45 minutes away. She told me that she used to box and wrestle and that, at almost 44, she had accepted a topless boxing challenge from a younger woman. In preparation for the fight she wanted a practice match with someone. She had heard that I fought and that, more importantly for her, I had a friend who would video the action so she could watch it back.
She offered me good money for half an hour’s work and, although my business wasn’t struggling any more, I was very tempted by her offer. The slight problem was that I’m a wrestler and a cat fighter, I’d never boxed in my life.
That evening, over (probably) one too many glasses of wine, and accepted the offer without even consulting Jill. The next morning I regretted my decision and called Jill to explain. She said I was a daft old bint but she was happy to tag along. It turned out to be a major turning point for Jill and would also have a major effect on young Paige, who was just 13 at the time and didn’t even go with us.
I spent the next two weeks watching every boxing video I could find trying to learn the moves. Strangely, given how prolific she turned out to be, although I found a fair few topless female boxing matches, I never found one featuring my opponent. I guess the internet was still young back then and not everyone was on it.
It was 10:30pm when we pulled up outside Marshall’s Health Club, an impressive three-story building in the recently regenerated old docks area of the city. The building was in darkness save for the lobby where I could vaguely make out the figure of a woman sitting at the reception desk. As we walked towards the entrance the woman got up, walked over to the door, opened it and ushered us in. As my eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the lobby, I turned to face our host. Imagine my surprise to find myself face to face with the big German blonde who had beaten me so badly in Spain all those years before and left me in the arms of the love of my life.
“Hallo, you must be Jan, I’m Gabi Marshall.” She said by way of greeting but then paused when she saw the surprised look on my face.
“Do I know you?” She asked.
“Not really,” I replied “but you were indirectly responsible for my marriage.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll explain later.” I said before turning to my companion and introducing her.
“Jill this is Gabi, our host for this evening. She doesn’t remember but she wrestled me in Spain about 15 years ago. Gabi, this is Jill, she’ll video tonight’s action.”
Both women looked suitably confused for a moment but Gabi quickly recovered her poise and ushered us in. Jill was loaded down with equipment and we both helped her carry it up a flight of stairs behind the reception desk and through a set of double doors.
I immediately had to do a double take. We were in a large two storey high room. Visible in front of us between two sets of tiered seating (what Americans would call bleachers) was a full-size boxing ring. Gabi could tell I was impressed.
“Welcome to Marshall’s HQ, also the home of CLAWS – the civil ladies amateur wrestling society. When took over the business here a few years ago I inherited a very successful topless wrestling and boxing club. When I had this new headquarters built, I put a health club on the ground floor and built this above it for my fighting ladies.
I used to fight, as you know, but I retired a few years ago. Now one of our members has challenged me to a boxing match and I need to get back in shape. I know you’re not really a boxer, Jan, but I know you’re competitive and will do your best against me. I also know that Jill will do her best to capture the action. This must remain a secret, no one knows I’m doing this.”
With that she led us to the ring side and invited Jill to set up her cameras. Then she led me through a blue door beyond the ring and into a changing room.
“We’ll change here.” She said, unbuttoning her blouse and slipping it off. Her bra quickly followed, revealing firm breasts, after which she kicked off her shoes and dropped her skirt, encouraging me to do the same. Soon we were both naked. I took a pair of canary yellow bikini briefs out of my bag as she pulled on a pair of blue sports briefs.
“Do you mind fighting barefoot?” She asked.
“I usually do.” I replied, “I’m a cat fighter, remember?”
“Fine!” She said and tossed me a pair of boxing gloves with Velcro fasteners. “Let’s see what you can do.”
With that she led the way back to the right and indicated that I take the blue corner. Jill had already set up two cameras on tripods and was standing in the ring with a small video camera, a handycam.
“Do you mind if I film in the ring?” She asked. I was used to Jill filming me close up with the handycam. Gabi seemed unsure but then said: “Why not, you’ll be closer to the action – just keep out of the way, I don’t want to hit you accidentally.”
She went on to explain she had set the ring to ‘automatic’ mode that they used in training. Pressing a button behind the red corner post would start the fight. The bell would ring for the start of the round and again, three minutes later, to indicate the end of the round, it would ring again a minute later to start the next round and so on. Needless to say I was quite impressed, I’d never seen anything on this scale before.
When we were all ready, Gabi pressed the button and the fight was on. I did my best but she was good and I was a complete rookie. I used all the moves I’d learn from the videos I watched but she landed five blows to each of mine and my punches lacked the power of hers. Each time she knocked me down she stood over me and counted, I never had the chance to do the same to her. Early in the fourth round I went down for the umpteenth time and Gabi counted to 10. That was that, I’ve never boxed again, but Gabi seemed happy with the result any my fee for the 15-minute beating paid the bills for the month.
After we’d showered and changed, she led Jill and myself to her office on the third floor and into the apartment behind it. Again, I was amazed. This woman not only had a successful business empire but buried within her corporate headquarters was a club where women could fight and an apartment where she lived. She plied us with champagne, heaping praise on me for my ‘have a go’ nature and quizzing Jill on all aspects of video. She admitted she didn’t recall the beating she gave me in Spain seventeen years early but she was happy to hear it had worked in my favour and sad to hear of Carlos’ untimely death but, as she put it:
“Darling, I was fighting everyone back then. I travelled around Europe just to do that. It helped forge my destiny. Ultimately it helped build this.”
She went on to say she owned a number of “ladies only” health clubs (at that time she had three in the UK and three in Germany), but this was the only one with its own female fighting club.
A few days later I received a phone call from a very excited Jill. Gabi had been so impressed with her video skills she’d asked her to produce all the CLAWS videos going forward. At the time CLAWS were staging 50 or more fights a year so it was two or three days a week - and it paid well. I was pleased for Jill and equally pleased to hear that, the following month, Gabi beat her challenger (who I later discovered was one Christine Bennett) in the boxing ring. Ultimately Paige would become Jill’s apprentice, both at CLAWS and in her freelance work, and then go on to fight at the club herself. I guess that early exposure in Manchester paid off.
After my loss to Gabi I continued to fight on a regular basis and beat all comers, it would be twelve years before anyone defeated me again. I declined Gabi’s offer to join CLAWS and stopped going to NBFC events when Paige turned 13 later that year. Instead, I fought privately, usually on my home turf and on my own terms. My favoured format was a 30 minute “submissions only” cat fight on mats starting in bikinis and often ending naked but I was always conscious that my opponents might have other preferences and we often compromised on rules.
Through the offices of a friend and occasional opponent I secured the use of a high school gymnasium for some extracurricular activities (I suspect the governors would not have approved if they knew what the headmistress was up to) and that became my base. Miss P was an interesting opponent. As a student teacher she had fought at CLAWS but when she qualified, she decided that she would rather not have her exploits available for sale. She continued her hobby in private, only fighting in confidence and with the proper introductions. I was introduced to her five years later and five years after that, at just 33, she became headmistress of a local school. As such she offered me the school’s gym, not just when I fought her but for my other opponents as well.
Another local girl I fought regularly in the early 2000s was a tall, willowy Irish redhead with big tits called Lesley who I’d first met at the NBFC in the late 90s. Lesley’s elder sister had been a founder member of CLAWS but she herself never fought there. She and her husband owned a local holiday park and she had converted an old double width static caravan into a sort of private health spa with a sauna, jacuzzi and multi-gym. The living area had been cleared and cover with mats to provide a large fighting space that was just to my liking. We fought many times and, despite her superior size, she never managed to beat me.
One thing I came to realise in my fights with Lesley, miss P and others was that I was blessed with magic fingers. It was something Jill and Peggy could have told me years before if I’d asked. My fingers possessed an innate ability to seek out and stimulate my opponents’ g-spots. I didn’t always do it but if I could get a girl naked, I could knock her out or submit a match by making her orgasm. That worked well with my style of fighting but was less effective in normal wrestling which was less sensual. Jill filmed many of these fights for me and, as she moved into her teens Paige started to referee my matches.
By the time I was in my late forties I was finding it difficult to find new opponents. Much as I loved tussling with Evie, Sian, Peggy, Lesley and the others I didn’t want to keep fighting the same girls. I wanted new blood, but not so new that it would beat me hollow.
On one occasion, in desperation, I persuaded Jill to fight me. It didn’t go well. Jill is a lover not a fighter and after just a few minutes she was begging me to stop hurting her and fuck her instead. I obliged, of course, what else could I do for my best friend?
Later that year Peggy, was turning 50. Although we couldn’t be together for her birthday, I wanted to give her a memorable present. I decided to try and find a new opponent to fight, someone she’d never seen before, and give her the video of the match. Jill said she’d be happy to film it for me. I just needed a suitable opponent.
I wasn’t too particular about who I fought. I wanted to win but I didn’t mind losing. Size and fighting style didn’t matter too much (I’ve beaten plenty of big girls). I just wanted an experienced opponent close to my own age but someone I’d never fought before, which ruled out most of the NBFC girls and quite a few other people. I asked Sian about Terri but she said she had moved to Ireland and given up fighting.
Jill agreed to ask around at CLAWS. Girls like Christine, Clare, Jay and Suzi still fought occasionally and would have been ideal opponents but they all declined. Then Erica, Gabi’s cousin and, in my opinion, the real boss at CLAWS, suggested a girl called Ellen. It turned out there was a hidden agenda. Erica wanted to start a senior wrestling tournament and very much wanted Ellen to be part of it.
“She hasn’t fought in years,” I was warned, “but if she’ll fight you maybe she’ll come back and fight for us.”
Well, I enjoy a challenge so I did a bit of research on Ms. Ellen Shaw and made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.
To find out what happened when Jan approached me, read my story “The Present”.
