Spoiler alert, this is another of my magnum opuses so it you don’t like a lot of descriptive narrative and scene setting around your fights this one may not be for you.
It’s in three parts and features seven fights held at Sian’s farmhouse on the weekend of 13th/14th November 2021. Part one has three straight, nude, submissions only wrestling matches. Part two is more of a melange with a mother/daughter fight that turns into a sex fight, a mother/daughter tag match and a boxing match featuring CLAWS senior boxing champion Terri. Finally, part 3 is much more background but features a tag match aimed at restoring the confidence of a fighter who took a beating in an earlier match.
Three months after our last trip to the farm, Terri and I prepared to head north again. This time for what Sian had promised us would be a ‘proper’ NBFC meeting – something I had never experienced before.
Terri was on something of a high. Just three weeks before she had retained her senior boxing title by knocking out Shaz, a woman more than 10 years her junior, in the third round of the final. We had planned to travel together and just stay a couple of nights but then Terri decided the call of the Pennines and her surrogate family were too strong and she headed north a week early.
Fortunately, I wasn’t going to be travelling alone. I’m not sure my old van would have made the journey and I was looking at train times when, the day after Terri headed north, Sian called me. Terri had told her I was now training four new recruits and she wondered if any of them would join us.
I asked her if it mattered what age the person was? Sian laughed and reminded me that, at the NBFC, age doesn’t matter – you fight who you’re drawn against. I said I’d ask them. I secretly hoped Lynne would do it as I thought facing someone like Sian or Evie would be good experience for her.
I contacted the girls starting with Lynne, who immediately said yes and offered to drive. Sue was tempted but had plans for the weekend and Rylie was on a college field trip but Nat was happy to join us. Neither Lynne nor Nat had yet fought a proper bout and both would be fighting at CLAWS in the new year so this would be a good experience for them. I just hoped that they drew suitable opponents.
So it was that on the morning of Friday, November 12th, I found myself in the company of the two blonde women I’d met on the beach ten weeks earlier, travelling north in Lynne’s Golf GTi. Both of them seemed to be excited by the prospect of finally getting to grips with other women in a ring but Nat was particularly keen and couldn’t stop talking about it.
It seemed to be a case of Nat by name and natterer by nature. Lynne and I couldn’t get a word in edge ways as our young companion chatted excitedly about everything that was happening in her life. How she was looking forward to joining the CLAWS boxing league in the New Year, and more importantly, starting her new job at Marshall’s as Jay’s assistant. There was little doubt in my mind that it wouldn’t be too many years before the young paralegal found herself sitting on the Marshall’s UK board, along with Suzi, Emily and Stacey, while Jay and Gabi took a deserved backseat in their twilight years.
Despite Brexit and the fact that she was now spending increasing amounts of time with her elderly mother back in Hanover, Gabi still seemed very committed to her UK business interests. Marshall’s health clubs were reopening as we eased out of lockdown. CLAWS continued to provide a steady source of revenue, with the infant CLAWS start up in Germany already starting to gain some attention as well and, of course, there was Gabi’s business venture with the now Doctor Paige Rodriguez-Somerville PhD.
The video image processing technology that Paige had developed for her PhD work was probably the biggest cash cow going. Gabi had been very smart to bankroll Paige and support her ideas and innovations. The Cat’s Whiskers consultancy (basically Paige) and Thunder Cat Video, the company Gabi had licensed the technology to in exchange for a substantial shareholding, a seat on the board and 10% of their net profits, were making money hand over fist.
Nat continued to regale us with almost endless chatter as we made our way north and I think Lynne and I were both extremely grateful when she fell asleep in the backseat as we pulled onto the M6 toll road. The rest of our journey was conducted in relative silence with just the occasional comment between us, and the knowing, satisfied smiles that women of a certain age tend to have. There was no denying we were both excited by the prospect of the next couple of days.
For Lynne, it would be the opportunity to prove herself in the ring for the first time. For me, it would be my first, and probably last, chance to see how Sian’s NBFC actually worked. Neither of us had any idea who would be facing and that element of mystery made it more exciting than if we had known who our opponents were going to be.
At one point, Lynne asked me about the sleeping arrangements at the farm. Remembering the cosy room with a double and a single bed that I had shared, on different occasions, with both Erica and Stacey and Jan and Jill, I suspected that the three of us may well find ourselves in the same room. I asked Lynne if she minded sharing a bed and, if so, whether her preference would be to share it with me or Nat. She said she was happy enough to share, but was concerned that Nat may be a little excitable and would prefer to cuddle up with a comfortable old bird like me. I worried that might put Nat’s nose out of joint, but I didn’t say anything.
We turned off the motorway at Congleton and I directed Lynne along the picturesque route Terri had introduced me to on our way back from the farm last year. Although autumn had settled on the landscape, making it somewhat more barren than it had been the last time I’d travelled this route, the countryside was still stunning and the last hour or so of the journey the farmhouse was quite magical.
When we arrived at the farm our hosts, and the guests that had arrive before us, came out to greet us. Sian, looking rustically radiant as ever. Shannon, her usual wild, mysterious beauty. Terri in her natural habitat, back with her lifelong friend and surrogate daughter. Jan and Jill, friends and colleagues for so long, standing hand-in-hand and Paige holding her baby daughter, Rose, a giggling mass of blonde curls, all waving to us as we drove up the track to the farmhouse.
The sense of homecoming caused me to well up and I was in tears as I jumped out of the car and hugged each one of them in turn. Jill, Paige and Jan had travelled up the day before to help Terri, Sian and Shannon set up the ring. Paige and Jill would also have set up the video equipment that Jill would use to capture the action and Jan and Sian would have been preparing a feast of Jan’s wonderful recipes for the evening party that would follow the next day’s combat.
Blinking back my tears I quickly introduced Lynne and Nat to everyone. Other than Terri, who they had met at CLAWS a few weeks earlier, they didn’t know any of them.
The sleeping arrangements turned out to be just as I expected, we were in that cosy little room again. But my concerns about Nat proved unfounded. As we walked in, she threw her bag onto the single bed exclaiming:
“That one is mine. You two can put on another lesbian show for me, like you did down on the beach.”
We all chuckled at that.
That evening over dinner, Shannon informed me that she had made good on the promise she’d made to take me pony trekking the next time I was here. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be until Monday morning and she asked me if I was willing to stay another day. Nat was working on Monday and Lynne had agreed to take her home on Sunday afternoon but Terri, who would be riding with us, was staying until Monday afternoon and would be happy to give me a lift home if I could stay.
I called Carrie and asked her if she’d mind looking after the shop on her own for an extra day. She knew I’d come away for a fighting weekend, I wasn’t keeping that secret from her anymore, so she was obviously a bit cagey when she asked why I needed an extra day. I replied:
“I’m going pony trekking.”
She snorted down the phone at me:
“You? On a horse? That I would love to see. It’s a shame I can’t be there with you. Please get your friends to take some photos. I’d love to see your fat arse on horseback. The one thing I haven’t managed to persuade my big sister to do and you’re doing it with your friends! I should feel offended but I don’t. Promise me you’ll do your best not to get yourself hurt in your fighting and enjoy yourself. I’ll see you back here on Tuesday.”
I promised and echoed her comment: “See you on Tuesday, honey.”
She replied: “oh, and Ellen, try not to fall off the horse please.”
With that she hung up, still chuckling at the prospect of me on horseback.
“I love you too.” I said to the silent phone and renewed my vow to myself that I wouldn’t do anything that would upset her.
After dinner, Paige took young Rose off to bed. I had no doubt that she would’ve bought her laptop with her and would be busy working as soon as the child was asleep in her room. The rest of us sat around in the snug chatting. The conversation quickly turned to fighting and the other women who will be joining us tomorrow.
“Most of you know Evie,” said Sian, “Jan probably knows her better than I do as she’s known her longer, but, for the benefit of our newcomers, Evie is a 54-year-old platinum blonde who has been wrestling both professionally and in topless combat for most of her life. She founded the NBFC with me. She also runs a successful business and has twin daughters, Carole and Helen, who will also be joining us tomorrow. Shannon has grown up with Carole and Helen so I’ll let her tell you about them.”
Shannon picked up from her mother:
“Yes, the twins are a lovable pair. Helen is the larger, more powerful fighter but Carole is also a force to be reckoned with. I’ve known them both since they were babies and we’ve grown up together. They’re about five years younger than me and joined the NBFC when they were 18. I’ve fought them both many times over the years. Someone else who will be joining us tomorrow is Helen’s friend and colleague, Beth. Beth started fighting with us at the NBFC about 18 months ago but has only fought at our meetings in the city, this will be her first visit to the farm. She’s a big girl in the right senses of the word and a very competent and powerful fighter. She’ll be coming over the border from Wales and bringing her daughter, Angharad, to keep Rose company.”
Sian took up the story again: “Angie is a biker chick. She’s also been with us from the early days. She’s a shapely 51-year-old blonde, with a preference of boxing over wrestling. Terri’s faced her many times with the gloves on and I suspect she’ll be looking for a boxing opponent tomorrow as well. I’d be interested to see how are you fared against her, Ellen, or maybe even how she tackles a relative youngster like Nat.”
Nat blushed and mumbled: “Well, I’ve only just started boxing so I’m not sure I’d be ready yet.”
I brushed off her comments with a complimentary: “Don’t be daft Nat. There’s nothing to it. You’re a natural. I’m sure you could take her on.”
For the first time since I’d met her, Nat momentarily looked a little unsure of herself as Sian continued:
“Last, but by no means least, our final guest tomorrow is Kathy. She’s 55 and has been fighting on and off for years. Like Angie and Terri, she was with the NBFC from the early days and also fought on the local underground and pro circuits, which is where Evie met her. She took time out to raise a family but returned to the ring about ten years ago. She’s a shapely woman with mousy blonde hair, and she’s a force to be reckoned with. She’s proved herself for more than one occasion against very worthy opponents. I think she could be quite a challenge for any of you and would definitely make a good pairing with Lynne.”
The conversation continued around fighting exploits, tales of past victories, hopes for tomorrow, and general chitchat about how people got into the fighting scene in the first place. Around 10pm, by seemingly unspoken mutual consent, we all decided to turn in. Tomorrow would be an exciting day and I’m sure we’re all looking forward to getting some rest.
And if you’re wondering whether Nat got her show or not, I can promise you she did, albeit a brief one.
*************************************
The sun rises late up north in November and it was still twilight when I woke, as I usually do this time of year, at 7am. Both of my room mates were still sound asleep. I gently moved Lynne’s hand off my left breast, climbed out of the bed we’d shared and went to the loo. Bladder relieved, I pulled on my jeans and sweater and slipped silently out of the room and down the stairs, following the scent of coffee and fresh baked bread coming from the kitchen. I found our host dress, as usual, in her farming clothes and nursing a cup of coffee. We smiled our good mornings and she nodded towards the pot of fresh coffee on the stove. I helped myself and sat down next to her.
“Looking forward to today?” She asked.
“Yes,” I replied, “Excited but nervous about who I’ll be facing.”
“So you should be,” she said, “I’ve wanted you to experience this for a long time, Ellen. Way back when we first started, I asked Christine to invite you here but I guess she never did.”
“No, she didn’t. I’ve only recently discovered that she was fighting all over the place while I had no idea there was anything beyond CLAWS.”
“She always was a bit of a selfish bitch; she probably didn’t want you getting in her way. Still, you’re here now and you can finally see how it works. Who knows, maybe we can tempt you back again?”
I looked a bit despondent as I replied: “I’d love to but I’ve promised Carrie I’ll stop fighting when I’m 60. That’s only a few months away, so I probably won’t have another chance.”
“That’s a shame. Never mind the one thing I can promise you is that whoever you draw today you will have a worthy opponent.”
She patted me affectionately on the knee and then went to tend to the stove and start cooking breakfast.
One by one the other guests started surfacing and drifting down the kitchen which, as in every farmhouse, formed the hub of the place. Soon it was buzzing with the chatter of excited women and the clatter of plates and cutlery as everyone enjoyed a hearty breakfast.
As usual at the farm, the fights would take place in the afternoon and would be followed by a social evening. With nine of us already assembled it was just a matter of waiting for the other six to arrive. Of the fourteen women fighting that afternoon there were five I’d not met before and I was looking forward to getting to know them.
Around one in the afternoon the guests began to arrive. First were Beth and Helen with Beth’s daughter, Angharad. Angharad was a few months older than Rose and, with an Afro-Caribbean father, had a coffee-coloured complexion and a mass of black curls – as, indeed, did her mother.
Beth was a buxom brunette from Llangollen, a pretty town in Wales, about an hour’s drive from the farm. She was solidly built and in her early thirties. Although she probably outweighed Nat by 20lbs, I felt they would be well matched and hoped they’d be paired. She stepped out of her impressive Volvo hybrid SUV (a company car, she admitted later) and cast her eye over the view from the farm:
“Beautiful,” she said in a soft Welsh accent, “almost as nice as home.”
As she said that, Evie drove up to the farm in her BMW X5 with her other daughter, Carole. Helen and Carole were both very much like their mother. Helen was the stronger, larger and more successful of Evie’s 27-year-old twin wrestling daughters. She was smart, sassy and instantly likeable. She worked in the PR department at an aircraft factory and that’s where she’d met Beth. Carole was perhaps 10lbs lighter than her sibling, an inch or two shorter and more of a wallflower. None the less she was attractive and, by all accounts, as competent a fighter as her mother and sister.
Kathy arrived a few minutes later in her Mini Cooper, followed soon after by Angie, riding an impressive chopper style motorcycle.
Angie was blonde and in her early fifties who favoured boxing over wrestling. She had been fighting at the NBFC since it first started and knew both Jan and Terri well. I’d seen her once before but my only vague memory was of her lying on the canvas having been knocked out by Lesley just before I climbed into the ring to face Mitzi over five years ago.
Kathy, who described herself as a ‘semi-retired housewife’, was (as Sian had described her) a fit, shapely 55-year-old with a shaggy mop of shoulder length hair and, for her age, pert breasts. She was a couple of inches shorter than me and probably 10lbs or so lighter. I guessed her measurements at 36C-28-38 and I secretly hoped that I would draw her in the afternoon’s contest.
With the guests all assembled we entered the barn, keen to get down to business. As on my previous visits to the farm, the girls had constructed a sort of ante-room inside the barn out of hay bales, a place where the fighters could take their clothes off before entering the ring room.
While meetings the barn are always quite informal and sociable, Sian has strict rules about a few things, one of which is that everyone must be naked in the ring room whenever fighting is in progress. I recalled how, even when they were rushing to my aid as Lesley was beating me up last year, Terri and Sian both stopped in this ante-room to strip off before coming to see what was going on.
On this occasion those of us who had stayed the previous night were already ready for action, dressed just in robes that Sian and Shannon had provided us, with nothing on underneath. When we entered the ante-room, the six new arrivals quickly disrobed and we got a chance to see their splendid figures. I think everyone’s jaw dropped when Angie unzipped her one-piece motorcycle leathers to reveal that she was completely naked underneath, and a very fine specimen of a woman for her age too.
With the new arrivals naked, the rest of us slipped off our robes, made our way into the ring room and settled on the hay bales that formed the seating around two sides of the ring. One of the quirks of the NBFC is that although the fights are always nude, the fighters are allowed to retain non-invasive jewellery. Looking around the room I saw that several women had studs in their piercings and Sian herself still had a small piece of turquoise stone braided into her hair above her right ear. At CLAWS any form of hard decoration of this kind has to be removed for fear it might snag and cause injury. It was another example of how the NBFC was more casual than CLAWS.
I have to admit that after the strict rules of CLAWS I was finding my visits to the NBFC increasing liberating. Not only was Sian a wonderful host but the whole situation was more relaxed. Yes, the rules for the fights were more relaxed as well, but that didn’t necessarily mean the fights were more brutal, just different.
Sian climbed up into the ring to address the assembled group. Anyone entering the room now would wonder what kind of strange ritual was taking place with fourteen women and two toddlers, all butt naked, sitting on hay bales around the boxing ring, while naked woman stood in the middle of it, addressed them.
“Ladies,” said Sian, “Welcome to this gathering of the NBFC. We are honoured on this occasion to have a number of new fighters with us, several of whom have not fought at this venue before and two who are about to make their ring debuts.”
She paused briefly and nodded in the direction of Terri and Shannon who were sitting side by side. They got to their feet and joined Sian in the ring, pausing only to pick something up from the table where Jill’s video equipment had been set up. When they were stood either side of her, Sian continued:
“Okay ladies, it’s time to decide who will fight who. Terri and Shannon have seven cards each and will read out the names as we go. Terri?”
Terri held up a card and said: “Shannon”
“Shannon?”
“Paige” replied Shannon
“Well,” Said Sian,” that should be a good match, it’s high time you two got it on in the ring. Terri?”
“Sian” said Terri
“Jan” Responded Shannon
“Oh, Miss Sommerville, it’s been a while since I had the pleasure.”
It always fascinated me that Jan had reverted to her maiden name after her husband died while Paige proudly used the name of the father she never knew. So, while Jan was always Ms. Somerville the production credits on CLAWS videos were always listed as “Montrose-Rodriguez”.
Without thinking, I spoke out loud the thought that had just entered my mind:
“With the mothers draw against each other and the daughters drawn against each other how about a mother/daughter tag match?”
There was a murmur of approval from everyone and Sian said: “Excellent idea Ellen, would you do the honours and referee for us?”
Well, I couldn’t say no, could I? The selection process continued with Sian adding a little colour commentary after each pairing was announced:
“Helen” said Terri
“Evie” Responded Shannon
“Oooh – mother vs, daughter, that should get feisty.”
“Angie”
“Terri”
Before Sian could say anything, Terri spoke to her blonde opponent: “Wrestling or boxing, Angie?
“You know me Terri, boxing every time – even if it is with the CLAWS senior champion!”
Terri nodded and read out her next card: “Nat”
“Beth” said Shannon.
“That should be a good one.”
“Lynne”
I held my breath, there were just three names left, Carole, Kathy and me. I crossed my fingers and hoped Lynne would be drawn against…
“Carole”
I was breathing again and happy to know my wish had come true as Sian said:
“Ooh, a baptism of fire for Mrs. Newell. And I think that just leaves us with Ellen and Kathy. Ladies, I think we can congratulate ourselves on having a fine selection of matches lined up and, the mother and daughter battle aside, a great north-south contest – I don’t think it could have worked out better. If no one has any objections I suggest we start with our virgin fighters, Lynne and Carole, then Beth and Nat followed by Ellen and Kathy. Then we’ll take a break before we have mother verses daughter and our tag match and we’ll finish the afternoon with a bit of boxing.”
Everyone nodded and murmured in agreement so Sian continued:
“Well, let’s get started. Lynne? Carole? If you could step into the ring, please.”
As Lynne climbed into the ring, I suddenly felt guilty for hoping that I would draw Kathy, and not her or Carole. This was Lynne’s first proper fight, and she was fighting naked against a very attractive woman 20 years her junior. Knowing how easily Lynne got turned on when she was fighting, I was worried she would orgasm quite quickly and the fight would be over in no time. I knew that she was worried about her inability to control herself, and I felt that if that happened it would be a severe setback to her.
Once again it turned out I was worrying unnecessarily. While Lynne was undoubtedly turned on by the encounter, she controlled herself well and used her size and weight advantage to full effect. She had been training hard and having Sue to spar with at home as well as in training sessions with me at Marshall’s meant she was in peak condition for her first proper fight and was determined to do well. Being drawn against someone young enough to be her daughter didn’t seem to daunt her.
From the opening bell the pair circled for about 30 seconds before locking up and Lynne quickly took Carole to the mat, applying a side headlock and twisting the younger woman’s neck. What followed impressed even me, and I’d been training Lynne.
For the next three or four minutes they wrestled on the mat, Carole constantly attempting to break free but Lynne controlling her and wearing her down. Lynne used her weight to pin the younger woman to the mat, repeatedly smothering Carole with her big boobs.
Carole writhed and wriggled, escaping one of Lynne’s holds just to find herself trapped in another one as the canny MILF kept her pinned down. Eventually Lynne was able to wrap her powerful thighs around the younger woman’s waist while, at the same time, applying a chin lock and twisting poor Carole’s neck.
Carole struggled for a moment but there was no escape. Lynne cranked her neck again and Carole slapped the mat, signalling her submission. First blood to the old lady, well done Lynne!
At the sound of the bell Lynne released her hold and returned to her corner, breathing hard. There was no denying that controlling the younger woman had been hard work. I went over to the corner to congratulate my protégé while at the same time warning her not to wear herself out. Lynne grinned at me and, between pants, said:
“Don’t…worry…boss…I’ve…got…this.”
I admired her confidence but I still had my doubts. She’d got the jump on Carole at the start of the fall and used her weight to good advantage but the youngster would have more stamina and would be determined to equalise.
Over in the red corner I could see Helen giving her sister advice. Carole was also red faced from exertion and looking worried as the bell rang for the start of the second fall.
Once again Lynne was quick out of the blocks and keen to make her mark but this time the younger, more experienced fighter was ready for her. They locked up elbow and shoulder but Carole swiftly hooked her right leg behind Lynne’s left ankle and took her to the mat.
Carole did her best to control the larger woman on the mat but Lynne bucked and twisted and she was unable to lock on a securing hold. Eventually, Lynne managed to roll her off, and the two of them began writhing around on the mat, both seeking to lock the other one up but without success.
I could see that both women were getting turned on but the physical struggle for dominance. What was most worrying for me was seeing Carole’s hands squeezing Lynne’s big breasts and, on more than one occasion, darting between her thighs. I feared it would only a matter of time before Lynne gave in to her sexual urges. At one point I heard her whimper and squeak and I thought ‘This is it…’
But then she managed to break free, rolled over to the ropes and pulled herself to one knee while Carole also took a much-needed breather on the other side of the ring. Glancing across at Carole’s glistening thatch I realised it wasn’t just Lynne who was at risk of boiling over.
They both took a few seconds with Sian counting over them before coming to their feet and locking up again. This time it was Lynne who got the advantage, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman in a bear hug, hoisting her in the air and then dropping to one knee, delivering an atomic drop to her opponent.
Carole screamed and clutched her injured sex. Lynne delivered a forearm smash to her breasts and Carole fell backwards. Lynne leaned forward and grabbed the smaller women’s thighs before getting to her feet and sliding her hands down to Carole’s ankles.
As Lynne moved her legs apart and prepared to stomp on her pussy, Carole looked up in shock, raised her hands, waving them and screaming: “No! Please! Don’t!”
Lynne raised her right foot and then at the last moment, changed her mind. Keeping hold of Carole’s legs, she rolled her over onto her belly, stepping over her and bringing her full weight down the small of the younger woman’s back to apply a perfect Boston Crab.
A frantic slapping of the mat by Carole signalled a second submission from the younger woman. The bell rang and Lynne quickly released the hold, standing up with a satisfied smile on her face before looking down to check on her opponent.
‘Careful Lynne,’ I thought to myself as I applauded her, ‘You haven’t quite got the cream yet.’
While that was true, Lynne was firmly in control now. After a few seconds rest, Carole made it back to her corner where she was alternately berated and advised by her frustrated mother:
“For fuck’s sake,” I heard Evie shout at her daughter, “She’s an old woman. You can’t let her beat you this easily. At least try and fight her.”
And then, more quietly:
“She’s getting tired. Keep moving. You’ve got the stamina. Wear her out. You can do it honey; I know you can. Win this one for your mum.”
But it was pretty clear Carole was tired as well. She wasn’t used to this. She’d run circles around most of the older women she’d faced. On this occasion she had been on the defensive almost from the moment the opening bell rang – and things didn’t seem to improve at the start the third fall.
Lynne stalked her around the ring for a minute or so but eventually tired of playing cat and mouse and simply charged the younger woman, aiming to bodycheck her to the mat.
It was a rookie mistake as Carole simply raised her leg, twisted slightly and rammed her knee into Lynne’s belly. As Lynne doubled over, Carole drove another knee lift into her chin, straightening her up, before slamming a series of forearm smashes into her breasts and belly, pushing her back onto the ropes.
The tide had turned and, for the first time in the fight, Lynne was in real trouble. Carole wasn’t about to miss an opportunity and waded in with guns blazing. I’d been there myself so I knew what Lynne was going through. One moment dominating the action, the next moment int a world of pain. And, if you don’t find a way out quickly, on the receiving end of that ten count.
Taking advantage of her dazed state, Carole grabbed Lynne by the shoulders and ran her front first into the blue corner turnbuckles. Lynne hit home hard and Carole followed up with a body check, slamming into the MILFs back. Had Carole been a larger girl it would’ve been a devastating move. As it was, it was still bad news for Lynne.
As the buxom blonde slumped in the corner, Carole locked on a full Nelson and pulled Lynne back from the corner post before swinging her legs up and lock them around Lynne’s waist in a body scissors. What happened next almost certainly decided the outcome of the fight.
As Carole squeezed Lynne’s belly and pressed painfully on the back of her neck, I’m sure everyone was expecting a submission. Instead, Lynne resisted the urge and opted to just throw herself backwards to the mat, crushing the smaller woman between her and the canvas with an almighty crash.
Carole screamed and her scissors and Nelson fell apart. Lynne rolled off her and scrambled to her knees as Sian moved in and started counting over both of them. Lynne got to feet first, and waited as Carole lay on the mat regaining her wits, sat up and got slowly to her feet just as the count reached nine.
Now it was Lynne’s turn to show off her power moves. Grabbing the younger woman by the arm and shoulder, she threw her across the ring. Carole hit the ropes with such force that she went between them and fell out of the ring, landing heavily on the mat in front of us.
The ring in the Barn is only a couple of feet above the floor but it’s still quite a drop onto relatively unforgiving mats and Carole took a moment to gather herself before slowly, rolling over and clambering back into the ring. Once again, Sian’s count was at nine before Carole was back on her feet.
Lynne was waiting for her and took full advantage of her weakened state. She grabbed Carole’s arm and spun her back first into the red corner. Carole staggered forward, and Lynne hit her with two forearm smashes before grabbing her arm and spinning her again, this time into a neutral corner, where she again hit hard back first.
This time she’s slumped in the corner, groaning. Lynne moved forward, grabbed her by the middle and carried her clear of the corner post before dropping to one knee and subjecting Carole to over the knee back breaker. Carole screamed out in agony. Lynne rolled her off her knee and left her lying on her back in the middle of the ring.
Carole beat the count and Lynne continued practicing her power moves on the unfortunate blonde, particularly those body slams she’d used so effectively on me in our first encounter in the dunes. For the next minute or so Carole found herself repeatedly hoisted in the air and slammed to the canvas on what developed into a total beat down.
As she struggled to her feet for probably the tenth time, Lynne grabbed Carole by the hair, led her to the blue corner and slammed her head against the turnbuckles before throwing her down on her back. Carole just managed to beat the count but it was pretty clear she was done for as she staggered straight into Lynne’s grasp. Another ring rattling body slam, and that was that.
I could see Lynne trembling with excitement as Sian guided her to a neutral corner. Her inner thighs and pubic thatch glistened with her love juices. The physicality and sexual excitement of the battle had pushed her to the brink of orgasm.
Although she didn’t know it, Carole was probably no more than a gentle stroke of Lynne’s pussy from victory. Evie and Helen were screaming at her to: “get up and teach the old bitch lesson” but Carole had had enough. She lay on her back, sucking in air and feebly waving her arm as Sian slowly counted to ten. As the bell rang, Lynne let out squeal of ecstasy and dropped her knees, her eyes glazing over, as she raised her arms in the air. In her moment of triumph, the voluptuous MILF had finally orgasmed.
Well, I don’t know about anyone else but I was impressed. She may have outweighed her opponent by 25lbs or so but Lynne, in her debut match, had also totally outclassed a seasoned wrestler 20 years her junior. More importantly she managed to keep her sexual urges under control.
She was clearly turned on by fighting Carole, the glistening thatch between her legs gave that away, but she’d managed to avoid orgasming, at least until she’d put the younger woman out for the count. Poor Carole, if only she’d realised. A couple of well-placed fingers in the pussy earlier in the match might have resulted in a very different outcome.
After a few moments, both women got wearily to their feet and Sian announced: “Ladies, your winner by a knockout, Lynne!”
The girls all applauded as Sian continued: “And commiserations to our loser, Carole.”
I climbed into the ring to congratulate Lynne, guiding her to the blue corner and helping her out of the ring in her post-orgasm daze. Evie and Helen comforted Carole in the other corner and, as soon as the ring was empty, Sian said:
“Thank you, ladies. Now for our next pairing. Nat? Beth? Could you make your way into the ring please?”
Lynne and I wished Nat luck as she stood up and made her way to the blue corner. She still seemed confident and excited, but when I looked across at the larger, more experienced woman in the red corner, I started worrying again. I just hoped she wasn’t going to be overconfident and underestimate her opponent.
In this contest the size and weight advantage were all with Beth. The buxom brunette was an inch or two taller than Nat and could best be described as curvaceous (although if she’d been Afro-Caribbean the term ‘bootilicious’ might have been appropriate). She was also about to demonstrate that she wasn’t just a big girl, she was a tough one as well.
Sian is always economical with her introduction and on this occasion, she simply nodded to Shannon, who rang the bell, and then said: “Ladies, begin fighting!”
Nat charged excitably out of the corner and collided with a larger brunette, who quickly caught her in a side headlock, twisting her around and bending her over. Five seconds in and Nat was already trapped and in trouble. Beth knew exactly what she was doing as she backed up, running Nat’s backside into a corner post, the metal pole parting her bum cheeks and striking her pubic bone. Nat groaned and her hands went from trying to prise Beth’s arms from around the neck to clutching at her own nether regions. Beth took two steps forward and then backed up, running Nat’s backside into the post again. Again, our girl squealed and the brunette repeated the process once more before releasing the headlock and allowing Nat to drop to her knees clutching herself.
Those opening second set the tone of the whole match. Beth retreated to the neutral corner and watched as Sian started counting over the fallen blonde.
Nat took her time before slowly getting to her feet as Sian’s count reached eight. Beth moved in, grabbing Nat’s right arm and quickly applying a hammerlock before running the smaller blonde front first into the opposite corner. Nat’s tits were squashed against the turnbuckles as the full weight of Beth slammed into her back and she yelled out in pain. As with her previous move, Beth repeated the process twice before releasing the hold and allowing Nat to collapse to her knees, clutching the corner post and staring tearfully out at the assembled audience. For the second time in less than a minute Sian moved in and began counting.
Again, Nat used most of the count to recover before pulling herself up on the corner ropes before turning to face the big brunette. Al least she’d learned that trick. This time she took a step away from the corner with her arms outstretched, ready to lock up, but Beth was having none of it. She swiftly crossed the ring, grabbed the smaller woman and hip tossed her to the mat.
I was beginning to wonder if Beth did everything in triplicate and was half expecting her to hoist Nat back up and throw her twice more, but no. As Nat landed heavily on the canvas Beth dropped across her, pinning the blonde with her weight and grabbing hold of her leg as she did so.
In a CLAWS match this would’ve been a simple three count pin, but there are no pins in NBFC matches. Instead, Beth lifted Nat left leg and pulled it back. Then, swivelling round, she straddled the blonde and planted her backside in Nat’s face before starting twist Nat’s left ankle viciously.
My girl didn’t have a chance. She frantically slapped the mat to indicate her submission. The bell rang and Beth quickly released the hold feet and walked casually back to her corner, leaving poor Nat flat on her back.
Nat lay there for several seconds before rolling over and crawling on all fours to the blue corner, where she stared out at me, tears running down her cheeks. I got up from my seat on the bales and walked over to her.
“Easy Nat. You were unlucky that’s all.” I said, reassuringly, “You’re one fall down, but there’s plenty of time left. Remember all your training just get out there and fight her.”
Nat sniffed back her tears and pulled herself up on the ropes, turning to face her opponent across the ring. Sian came over to check if she was okay and a few seconds later the bell rang for the second fall.
I had hoped that Nat’s swift concession of the first fall was simply down to nerves and over excitement. Certainly, she tried to take the fight to Beth after the break but it quickly became clear that she was not just outweighed by the buxom brunette, she was completely outclassed as well.
For the next few minutes Beth dominated the action, applying hold after hold to the hapless Nat. My girl simply wasn’t in the same league as this buxom brunette. I did my best to encourage her.
“Come on Nat,” I cried, “You’re better than this. Don’t let her beat you.”
But my shouts of encouragement fell on deaf ears. The relentless beating she was being subjected to had my girl questioning her ability and, indeed, what the hell she was doing in the ring with this woman in the first place.
Eventually she found herself trapped in grapevine with the full weight of the larger woman pressing down on her, crushing her body and spreading her legs at the same time. She tried to fight it but there’s no escape from a well applied grapevine and after about 30 seconds of torture she screamed out her submission.
Poor Nat, it was me who suggested she slim down a bit ready for the 2022 league season. She certainly was slimmer and more agile than she’d been two months ago but she was also giving away about 20lbs to Beth and the bigger woman was making it count.
The second fall had taken so much out of my girl that the third fall was little more than a formality. Nat had spent the entire break lying in the middle of the ring trying to recover from the grapevine. When the bell rang for the third fall Beth walked across the ring, grabbed hold of Nat’s scalp and literally peeled her off the canvas, pulling her to her feet before subjected her to a barrage of power moves.
Poor Nat found herself repeatedly thrown, posted and clotheslined; all moves aimed at wearing her down ahead of a final killer submission move.
The end came, by my reckoning, after about 10 minutes of largely one-sided action. Without a clock or a time keeper it’s hard to know but Nat was two falls down and fading fast as the big girl continued to throw her mercilessly around the ring.
As Nat struggled to her feet, just beating the count, for the umpteenth time, Beth moved in and hit her with a series of forearm smashes to her tits. Nat stagged backwards and slumped against the ropes. Her arms, draped over the top one, holding her up as her legs turned to jelly.
Seeing her opponent was virtually out of it, Beth bent down, grabbed Nat’s ankles, stood up and pulled the unfortunate blonde off the ropes. Nat’s back hit the canvas with an almighty crash and she cried out in pain. Beth held on to her ankles, deftly cross them and rolled Nat onto her front, stepping over her and bending her spine into a Boston crab. With her back already smarting from the recent impact, Nat now had to contend with about 165lbs of busty Beth compressing it. Nat wailed and slapped frantically at the canvas to indicate her submission.
The bell sounded and Beth released the hold and returned to her corner where she stood impassively surveying the wreckage of her opponent. God, this girl was cool. No fist-pumping victory celebration for Beth. In fact, barely a smile of satisfaction on her lips.
I climbed into the ring and went to comfort Nat, who was lying face down on the canvas, sobbing fit to burst. After a minute or so she seemed to calm down a bit and I looked across at Sian, still standing in the centre of the ring with Beth at her side. Never one for formalities and protocol, Sian glanced down at poor Nat, still on the canvas, and announced:
“Ladies, your winner by three falls to nil, Beth!”
Next it was my turn.
Whether Sian just wanted a break or whether she was keen to watch this encounter from a spectator’s viewpoint I can’t say but, as Kathy entered the ring, she suddenly invited her daughter to take over refereeing duties and, instead, helped the tearful Nat out of the ring.
I stayed in the blue corner and watched as Kathy slipped through the ropes in the opposite corner and began limbering up. Once again NBFC informality dictated things. We both knew the rules (didn’t we?) so there was no briefing from the referee, just a simple question:
“Ladies, are you ready to fight?”
We both said yes, Sian sounded the bell and we were off.
We quickly locked up and began feeling each other out. It didn’t take me long to realise this girl was going to be a bit of a handful but I did manage to identify a couple of weak spots. In particular she seemed quite sensitive about having her tits squeezed so they immediately became a target for me – at least when I could get near them.
Knowing she was close to my age I had been hoping for an easy ride, but Kathy turned out to be a formidable opponent. She was very experienced and a superbly tactile fighter. She had a great skill with pressure holds and crippling locks that put parts of your body under extreme strain.
Nonetheless, I gave as good as I got and was rewarded. I took the first submission after just three minutes of the fight, when I managed to apply a fairly crude bow and arrow hold that had Kathy tapping out. Sadly, for me it would be my only success in the fight.
Annoyed for allowing herself to be caught in that early submission, Kathy turned up the pressure in the second fall and equalised fairly quickly. Having subjected me to a number of her muscle deadening pressure holds, she left me tapping out in an extremely vicious single leg Boston crab. I stayed on the mat throughout the break, trying to massage some life into my back and leg, but I was still limping around the ring when we started the third fall.
Kathy was quick to capitalise on my obvious weaknesses, and I soon found myself trapped in a figure four leglock which she quickly converted, with the addition of a camel clutch, into a painful STF, putting huge pressure on my back and forcing me to tap out for a second time. We were only about 8 minutes into the match and I was in serious trouble. Once again, I failed to make it back to my corner during the break.
Kathy was astonishingly powerful for a woman for her age and size, and I later found out that she was used to fighting much younger women. In her most recent fight, she has fought back from almost certain defeat to score a single fall victory over a woman of just 23 years of age. An impressive achievement for 55-year-old. I had to admit I simply wasn’t in her class and it didn’t take her long to prove it.
In the fourth fall she switched to power moves, treating me to a series of postings and clotheslines before whipping me into a corner. As I slumped against the turnbuckles she jumped up on the middle rope, put her hands behind my head and fell backwards, taking me with her and bulldogging me to the mat.
We lay there for a moment, her on her back and me face down, before she made her next move. In my dazed state, I failed to anticipate it. I was lying face down on the mat between her legs. She grabbed hold of the back of my head and pulled my face into her crotch before clamping her firm thighs around my head. The scent and moistness of her hot, sweaty minge was overpowering and I quickly grew short of breath. I flailed around, trying to break the hold by grabbing at her thighs, but unable to find a suitable pressure point.
In desperation I ran my hands further up her body and tried to grab those sensitive tits of hers, but she was wise to me. I managed to get my right hand onto the side of her left boob, but I couldn’t get a grip properly.
I began to fade, my ears were ringing, my lungs were burning and I was struggling to breathe. I couldn’t see, but I sensed that things were going black around me. Gradually I began to lose feeling in my fingers and arms. The last thing I remember is thinking to myself ‘tap out you stupid bitch, tap out’.
The sound of a bell roused me. I was face down on the mat, the ringing in my ears was slowly easing, and I began desperately sucking in air to fill my burning lungs. I looked up to see Kathy standing just in front of me. She bent down with a concerned look on her face.
“Are you okay, honey?” She asked. I nodded and smiled in response before pushing myself to my hands and knees, and sitting back on my haunches. Glancing around me as I continued to suck in vast quantities of air. Kathy looked at me with some concern.
I imagined my face was rather red (on the video it looks almost purple). Shannon hove into view, also with a concerned look on her face. I couldn’t speak so I smiled at them both to indicate that I was okay. As I recovered, I looked around at my comrades on the southern team, sat on the hay bales outside ring. As I caught their eyes, I silently mouthed: “Sorry”
The Southerners had started well with Lynne putting us one nil up, but now we were two-one down we would be relying on the mother and daughter tag team of Jan and Paige and the boxing skills of Terri to win the day for the south.
Satisfied that I was okay, Shannon moved to the centre of the ring and announced: “Ladies, your winner, by a knockout, Kathy!”
Everyone applauded but, glancing across at them, I could see that Nat and Lynne were clearly shocked at the way Kathy had destroyed me. Sian climbed back into the ring and said:
“And commiserations to Ellen, you fought well Ellen – maybe next time.”
Then, turning to the audience she said:
“Ladies, at this time I suggest we take a half hour comfort break. There are some drinks in the ante-room and, for those who need it, the loo is that door in the corner.”
She indicated a door in the opposite corner of the barn to the one we came in from.
I was still dazed and breathless as I knelt in the ring with Kathy fussing around me while the assembled women got up and starting moving around. After what seemed like an age, I felt strong enough to stand up. Kathy helped me to my feet, hugged me and helped me out of the ring, all the time apologising for having beaten me.
Lynne and Nat were waiting outside the ring and helped me to the bales where I sat, somewhat despondently, sipping on a bottle of water Nat had handed me. I had expected an easy ride but I’d been outclassed. After my beatings at the hands of Judy and Lesley a few months before and my narrow victory over Mandy I was beginning to think I’d lost it.
Yes, I’d love a rematch with Kathy, but I suspect it would be as one side as this one was. I had a few fights planned in the months before I finally retired and, in my post-match depression, I imagined myself losing one after another. The once mighty Ellen Shaw was going out with a whimper.
