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THE IOWA BUFFET
Edited by Ajax
Introduction
The following is not a story, but an attempt at a reconstruction of a remarkable event that took place over the Labor Day weekend of 1982 in the State of Iowa.
Before embarking upon this most peculiar of events, however, it would be pertinent for me to give the reader some idea of how the information came to me.
Late in 1982 or early in 1983 I received a letter from a New Zealand correspondent telling me of a letter he had received from a friend in the North West USA, who had moved north from California some time before.
My correspondent's correspondent had written telling him of a contest of female endurance that he had witnessed, and partly helped to set up, the previous September somewhere in Iowa (he was not willing to reveal exactly where). It had taken the form of a buffetting contest of considerable severity between two women, which though planned by them had been funded by a wealthy Iowan, the employer of one of them.
I was particularly interested to hear of this since one of the contestants, a resident of the City of Seattle, was familiar to me. I had seen a very private film of her in action some two years before at her own home in the city. This contestant, Kitty, had for some time been engaging in private contests of great severity, and the film I had seen of her had shown her engaging in a contest politely called `maul wrestling', which should properly been referred to as `wrestling with breast mauling'. It was Kitty's claim then (when the film was made) that she would take on any women of approximately equal size in any contest requiring endurance to breast pain, and (I am reliably informed) had done so on several occasions between 1977 and when the film I saw was made in 1980.
I requested my New Zealand friend to send me a copy of the letter he had received from Fred which gave the details of this buffetting contest, which he duly did, and which I have before me ready to use as a basis of this reconstruction.
Most interesting was the fact that a video tape was made of the buffetting contest, which Fred had used to write up the details of the contest. Naturally, I was eager to obtain a copy of this tape, but was told that Fred was unwilling to make one until at least five years had elapsed from the date of the fight. In the autumn of 1987, therefore, I wrote again to my New Zealand friend specifically to ask if a copy could now be obtained, but received no reply from him, and no reply has been forthcoming despite several letters since.
I have been somewhat hampered in my reconstruction by the fact that I only have the haziest idea of how the arrangements for the contest were made, and have done some `extrapolation' from the information that was supplied to fill in the gaps.
Nevertheless, I hope that you will enjoy what I have been able to make of the contest. If you should by any chance have seen a copy of the tape, or know where one might be obtained, please don't hesitate to contact me.
Ajax, 31 Dec 1990Letters between Seattle and Iowa had been exchanged over several months, and Kitty was waiting to be told the precise location of her forthcoming fight with the young Iowan, Karen. Marty, Karen's boss, was a wealthy mill owner who normally lived alone on his farm, and she was at least aware that it was at the farm that the contest would take place. Fred had handled all that part of the arrangements. All she had had to do was to agree terms with Marty. It was assumed by both Fred and herself that Karen had been consulted, but for a time that was by no means sure. The purpose of her most recent letters was to confirm it with the girl herself.
They now had that confirmation and were due to set out for Iowa the following day.
She and Karen now knew a great deal more about each other, and had a better idea of how the contest would be conducted than had been the case two weeks previously. Fred and Kitty were reasonably sure that Karen would be there for the contest. One of the difficulties Kitty had in setting up contests between herself and other women was that the other party either got cold feet and backed out at the last moment, or else failed to turn up for the match. She had consequently suffered several disappointments since her maul battle with Diane some five years before. She still remembered her defeat in that with some bitterness, and on this occasion intended to redress the balance.
Fred would be arriving shortly to drive her to the venue on the morrow. That would be Friday. The three of them, herself, Fred and Karen were due to stay at the farm over night on Friday. The contest itself would take place in two phases, the first on Saturday, the second on Sunday. Since it was the Labor Day holiday, they would not need to return until Monday, and Fred's involvement in the contest was threefold. First he would drive her there and back as she could not expect to be in any condition to drive herself after the contest; second he was to videotape the whole thing; third he would be the referee in the first phase. Marty was underwriting their expenses, and would referee the second phase.
The contest itself was one that Kitty had thought about before, and had set up in 1980, only to find her opponent backing out just before it was due to go ahead. That had been a big disappointment to her, but in this case, because Marty was prepared to pay them each a large fee, she had no doubt that Karen would turn up. As a mill-hand employed by him she could not very easily avoid it, and the $1500 they were promised for taking part should prove a big enough draw. Marty had promised to pay the winner a further $1000, and there was a $500 `action bonus' to be awarded as well. It seemed to Kitty that they would earn it the hard way, but it wasn't often that she had an offer of such a prize for displaying her toughness.
Kitty was very proud of that. Against Diane, in the maul wrestling, she had been sorely tried and had eventually failed, but they had both started that fight fresh, and Diane's strength had been too great for her. On Saturday things could be very different, for Marty had insisted that they begin with a buffetting contest before going on to the maul phase the following day. The conditions he had imposed were, in themselves, going to be very hard to fulfil and she knew that both she and Karen would suffer hell once the battle started. Kitty did not object to that. She felt that she could endure them. Karen, though, was a first timer in the endurance-fight field, only nineteen where she was twenty-five, and she felt that she ought to be strong-minded enough to outlast such a youngster. It had been her inexperience of such sickening pain that had allowed the older, harder Diane to beat her in '77, for although Kitty had been putting herself about as a toughie before that, and had contacted Fred as a direct result, the Diane bout had been her first direct experience of breast-mauling. It was clear enough that Karen also considered herself a toughie, but when a contest went on and on without any relief it needed a mind like a steel trap to continue to endure the pain. Kitty was betting that Karen would not have that.
It was impossible to train for these contests. There was not much in the way of skill involved, and the thing would be decided by which of them could bear the greatest degree of pain. Kitty thought that Marty's insistence that the contest should be in two phases could only work to her advantage. She didn't doubt Karen's courage, or her belief that she could come through it, but she felt sure that it was going to be far worse than the youngster expected.
The buffetting itself was a tough proposition, but the stipulation that had convinced Kitty that she could win was that although they would be allowed to take showers once the first phase was decided, no other treatment or use of pain-killers would allowed between phases, which automatically meant that Karen would have to endure many hours of constant pain. Having been through it before, Kitty knew only too well how wearing that could be, especially knowing that you were going to have to face a maul after it. In fact, this was altogether likely to produce a severe test of the endurance of both contestants - precisely what Marty had been angling for.
Also, the buffetting contest itself could prove fairly horrific for a first-timer. Marty had set the standard for this. It was to be a breasts-only buffett on a rising scale. Each woman would stand for one blow each from her opponent, then two, then three and so on. Once each had suffered ten consecutive breast-blows, a round ended, and they restarted from one, the woman who had stood first in the opening round standing second in the next. If driven to fall within a set of punches, a minute would be allowed for her to rise and stand to the mark again, though no time limit was to be imposed between sets. The process would continue until either a fighter retired or was unable to stand to receive the next blow after one minute. Initially Marty had wanted to insist that any touching of her own breasts would cause the contestant to draw a penalty blow, but as this was almost impossible for a referee to judge Fred had ruled it out. Kitty didn't think it mattered. In any case, grabbing your boobs when they were hurting bad didn't help much.
The contest would, of course, be conducted stripped to the waist, but Marty was determined to get a good look at their bruises, and to watch them develop, for he had insisted that once the contest started they should remain topless until they left the farm. She had no trouble with that, and assumed that Karen was equally willing for neither of them had raised any objection.
During the Sunday maul phase, they would merely wrestle in three minute periods until either one of them surrendered or was unable to continue after one minute. Mauling would be part of the wrestling, different from her bout with Diane in '77 where they had wrestled a round first and then mauled a round until she had finally had to give in, her breasts scratched and bleeding and in such pain she could hardly think. But Diane hadn't escaped lightly either. Kitty was still embarrassed by the film of that bout. It didn't look as though she had taken very much, but until that day she hadn't known how much agony her breasts could cause her. The pain had been like having six teeth pulled at once without anaesthetic, and it had lasted for hours and hours. She had lain in a chair and sweated in agony for two hours before it had subsided enough for her to trust herself to move. Even after that her nipples had burned for days. She hadn't even been able to bear the weight of as much as a T-shirt on them for nearly a week. If it hadn't been for Fred, who'd stayed at her apartment and nursed her through it she didn't know what she'd have done. After this she would need him again, but she had a plan in mind this time - to hurt Karen so much in the buffetting phase that she would be in no shape to stand the maul. Nevertheless, she was very concerned about the second phase. This time she would be going into it already badly bruised and swollen, probably rolling, and she didn't know whether she would be able to endure any mauling herself.
In the first phase they were both going to have to take fifty-five blows each per round, and she had no idea whether she could take more than a couple of rounds. It didn't sound as though Karen was likely to be small-breasted, and she might turn out to be less sensitive than she was herself. However Kitty looked at it it was a gamble, but she was ready to back herself, and very determined.
[NB. Editor's Note: The above is conjecture. The following is a re-write of the letter I received (of Fred's) from my New Zealand correspondent. That letter is very badly written, and whilst trying to iron out some of the gross grammatical errors it contains, I shall endeavour to keep as much of the flavour of Fred's colloquial writing as I can. I do not have the first part of his letter, or the final pages, since I was sent only the account of the contest that Fred wrote. It is written in the first person, and is a transcription of the relevant parts of the contest taken from the videotape that was made at the time. By this means Fred was able to describe every blow and its effect. It makes very harrowing reading, but is unavoidably verbose. For that, I apologize in advance.
Ajax, Walsall, 31.12.1990]Well, come Saturday morning, the girls were as determined as ever, and although I expected Kaz to have some second thoughts she seemed happy about what was going to happen.
Marty sat there on the stoop looking as droopy-eyed as ever and waited for her to show.
Kitty was in a red bikini bottom and sat on the steps flexing the bag-gloves. I'd tied her hair back for her as it was smashing hot that morning and there was no wind. Kaz has her hair shorter, but having the contest in the yard would be causing some heavy sweat without the hammering they would be dishing out.
When Kaz did show I could see better what Kitty was frightened of. This was a strong kid, and big. There wouldn't be any trouble finding the targets, and she was in great shape. It was the first time we'd seen her stripped off, but if I had thought Kitty firm breasted, this kid was firmer.
She already had her gloves on and I tossed a quarter for the start. Kitty won, and that was a blessing. I'd made a scratch in the middle of the yard for them to come up to, and Karen went an stood on it without saying anything. Not that she didn't look worried. She'd wanted first go, okay, and it showed, but she set herself well. Stood with her hands on her hips and legs apart and waited. Kitty followed her to the middle where they stood side-on to Marty. I went and stood behind Kitty. It was about a minute of ten, so I let it come to the hour and then gave Kitty the okay.
She took a right hook into the bottom of Kaz's left breast, and landed it real hard. Kaz yelled and took a step back, but she was okay and came straight back while Kitty took the scratch.
Now I moved behind Kaz, and gave her the okay as soon as I was in position. Kitty had her teeth gritted and stood real straight, hands tucked into the sides of her bikini. Kaz's first was a straight punch, a left, and went full into Kitty's right nipple. It pancaked the breast like a soup plate and my girl screwed her face up in agony, but didn't yell.
As I moved behind her again she swallowed hard and set herself again.
"Two," I said, and they both nodded, Karen coming to the scratch ready.
Kitty went with her right again, first a pancake full in and then a real good ripping uppercut. The first made Kaz wince, the second fetched a grunt, and both punches knocked her back on her heels.
Kitty was back to the scratch before I'd moved round, and was already keyed up for Kaz's effort. Kaz eased herself down before moving in and the wait was bad for Kitty. Nobody had said you couldn't take a couple of seconds to recover. This time she went in with her right and dug in an uppercut that nearly lifted Kitty off her feet. It was a real tough one to take and Kitty went back a step or two. But she came back quick enough to face the second, another pancake like she'd had before. All she did was grunt, then stood away.
Kaz stood right up to the scratch again, and I moved backed round telling them "Three". Kitty stretched her arms.
Kaz just waited, looking pretty calm.
Kitty took a left for her first, but still struck to the left breast, hitting on the inside and travelling out. Kaz flinched, but didn't yell. The second was another right hook landing to the same spot as the first, and the third was a hay-making bolo to the centre of her breast. She landed it real hard. This time Kaz yelled and was knocked off her feet. It left a mark just by the outside of her left nipple and brought the sweat out of Karen for the first time. Her eyes were full of the pain.
She was slower getting set this time and Kitty waited, pretty frightened. Her hands were clenched and pressed to her hips. She knew how bad it was getting and was trying to hold onto herself.
Kaz picked her spot carefully, and slammed a left hook deep into the meat of Kitty's right breast. She pitched back from the mark, but didn't make a sound, and was back almost as soon as she had been knocked away. Kaz sent her second blow to the left breast, another hook and equally as vicious as the first. Kitty had to yell at that, but hurried back to the scratch. Kaz finished with another pancake to the same breast, and Kitty was on her knees, moaning.
Kaz came and stood as Kitty got up and got ready to give her the next lot.
"Four," I said, and Kaz nodded, setting herself as solidly as she could.
Kitty stuck to the same breast again, the left. Kaz was beginning to look red and bruised there. Kitty pancaked her with a right, and Kaz reeled away again, pulling herself back as quick as she could.
The second was a right uppercut that crushed her badly, the third another pancake, this time with a left, and the fourth another hook, a right, and full into the left nipple. Kaz yelled again at that, but didn't end on her knees as Kitty had. My girl looked disappointed, but Kaz was sweating the more as she got ready to give Kitty the four.
Kitty stood as square as she could, but it was getting harder. It wasn't difficult to see that. Kaz seemed to have set herself a pattern of attack by now. Her hooks were hurting Kitty the most, and it was the hook she used this time. Kitty's right breast is slightly larger than her left, and I think this made Karen go more for it. She hooked to the right breast first, then to the left, then twice again to the right. All four blows were powerful, and Kitty was wild-eyed after them, but didn't go down this time.
As she took a few seconds to get her breath I saw that the last session had marked her right breast quite badly, but I felt bad for Kaz having now to stand for five blows. I was beginning to think that they wouldn't take much more of it before losing control and hitting back, and I dreaded having to impose a two-blow penalty.
Kitty seemed set to destroy Karen's left breast if she continued to hit that one only, but I thought she would concentrate against it. I was right, for as Kaz stood for the next session, Kitty was only looking at her left breast. She seemed to take for ever to swing the next punch, another slamming bolo to the outside of the breast that sent Kaz staggering to the right. I was now counting the blows as they fell, but Kaz was back to stand almost before I'd got out the first call.
Kitty then used her left twice, landing an angled hook then a mulching right-on-the-nipple cross that drummed against Karen's ribs. The fourth blow was an uppercut from the outside of the breast that twisted the flesh the other way, and she finished with a pancake right that had Kaz down and mewling with pain.
Karen had now taken fifteen full-force blows from almost unpadded leather into one breast, but she still rose from the yard looking strong and determined and quite fit to go on. So did Kitty. They were both far from ready to be beaten and Kitty stood just as tall to receive her five as she had to give Kaz hers.
Karen preferred to share her punches between the breasts again, but did not go exclusively for hooks this time. On this session she pancaked both breasts once, uppercut each once, and drove a left hook into the right with extra force.
Kitty screamed at the last blow, and again went to her knees. She was not in real trouble, but by the end of the five session they were each running with sweat that didn't have much to do with the hot weather, and were badly marked.
Kaz stood to start the next with her hair plastered to her face and her teeth hard-clenched. We all knew by now that Kitty would only be attacking her left breast, and Kaz set herself to stand six uninterrupted blows.
Kitty hit her even harder on this set. Three right hooks to the same spot started it, below and just to the left of the nipple. Kaz went down to the third, and took five or six seconds before she could rise to the fourth. When she was set again Kitty right uppercut her, then left crossed, and finished the six with a right pancake, one of her hardest blows.
Kaz went down again, writhing in pain, and for the first time clutching at her hurt breast. It seemed a long time that Kitty stood waiting for her to get up to deliver her own blows.
Neither girl had said anything since the start. They had just stood there and done what had to be done, and were still quiet. Kaz was bitterly hurt, but still strong, and Kitty was well aware of it. I saw her quiver under the pressure of making herself stand at the scratch. It was killing her, but she made herself do it.
The power in Kaz's blows was enormous, and Kitty was shuddering all through this six. Kaz took her time landing them, and was very careful to pick her spots. It was clear she meant my girl to feel every one chewing her heart out.
The first three were uppercuts which she stood very close to deliver, all right-handed but two to the left breast and one to the right. Kitty fell forward onto her at the third, and was pushed away. She didn't go down though she did shut her eyes and grit her teeth hard. Kaz then landed a pancake to each breast, left and right, and finished with a left hook that caused Kitty to spin away and take a moment or two doubled up.
Kaz was still in great pain from the left breast, and before taking her standing place again she massaged it lightly and winced.
Kitty had not been ready then, but became so before Kaz had settled, and I had to remind her to come to scratch. She did it without any delay, but it was clear that her pain was really beginning to grind her down now.
"Seven," I heard myself saying, and felt as though it was me, not Marty, who was condemning the women to this agony. It occurred to me that even after seven had been landed they would only be halfway to their first round target, and the easy half. It would get much tougher than this.
This time, Kaz did not trust herself not to lash out at Kitty, and deliberately thrust both hands into her bikini sides. The left breast was beginning to look awful. It was all red and the red was darkening quickly. She clenched her jaw and seemed set not even to breathe while Kitty was working on her with the next set of blows.
Again with slow precision Kitty began to land blows. She did not hurry. She set herself carefully, measured her distance well then unleashed a ferocious haymaker at the outside of the left breast. Kaz howled in agony and swayed, but did not fall. I guess she couldn't afford to with her hands locked into her bikini. Kitty's second was a left uppercut, coming into the breast from the inside and seeming to pile it right up to her shoulder. A right pancake followed, then another uppercut that had Kaz reeling away. Kitty used her left cross full into the nipple twice, and finished by pancaking her again.
Now Karen was really in trouble. She dropped, writhing and yelling in agony, and I was not surprised. Her left breast had taken twenty-eight punches with no respite, and all at Kitty's full force. I couldn't imagine how she was going to stand any more. I was becoming worried because there was no time limit on these inter-session breaks (a minute within a session, but they'd scrapped the time between), and I could see them taking longer and longer to recover from the onslaughts. Kitty must have hoped that Kaz was finished, but it was wishful thinking. It took her all of half a minute to bring herself back into the contest, but she did, and Kitty stood again.
I was amazed at my girl's self-control, because although Kaz laid into her with terrible weight in her turn, Kitty made no attempt to retaliate.
Kaz started to the right breast with a straight left that would have gone through a board if Kitty's breast hadn't stopped it. I saw the breast squash right up to the collar bone and Kitty shrieked in pain again. The second blow was a right to the same breast, one of the cross-over hooks to the inside that Kitty had been using against her. It seemed worse landing against Kitty with Kaz's force, but I knew that my judgement could not be trusted. She took it well, and Kaz fired another straight left at her. It was not as perfect as the first of the set, and again Kitty hung on and stayed on her feet. The fourth was another vicious uppercut, and Kitty did go down from that. All four had gone into her right breast this time and I wondered if Kaz was trying the same trick that Kitty was using against her. I was wrong, for the next was right hook to the left breast. Kitty staggered and yelped again, but did not hit the ground.
Karen's last two were a superb left uppercut to the right breast, and a pancake right to the left.
They both dropped and doubled and took nearly a minute to get up. Kaz was up first and waiting to be struck again.
"Eight," I said, and thought Kaz whispered `Oh God, no!'. I asked her if she'd had enough, but she shook her head violently so I moved behind Kitty and gave her the go-ahead.
Kitty started much as she had done before, with three to the same spot, this time just above the nipple and distorting Karen's breast downwards. All three were pancake blows and Kaz was down at the third from nothing more than sheer agony. She was down for a long time. I didn't count it but it must have been near to forty seconds (Marty had the watch). Getting up knowing there were still five punches to go must have been hell, but she did get up, and faced again.
A crashing uppercut followed then a cross-over left hook, a left pancake and a right haymaker. Kaz was staggered by every one but didn't go down again till the set was finished. She was past the point where a break was doing her any good and she rose again as soon as her breath returned.
Once Kitty was set Kaz laid into her harder than ever. She used eight hooks in this part of the contest, four left to the right breast and four right to the left. Kitty took all but one standing but had to go down to the second to her right breast that landed in a particularly dark area.
There was a very short break before Kaz was ready and I had to tell Kitty to come to scratch. "Nine," I said, and Kaz displayed her breasts to take them.
Kaz's left breast was now swelling up and looking real terrible. The nipple and areola, which had gone from pink to red was now purple and looked as though it could burst. I knew this had happened in severe fights and thought it might happen here. The flesh did not look as if it could stand nine consecutive blows without something giving, and I was sure Kitty would pile everything into it.
Kaz stuffed her hands in her bikini again, but they were both gray-faced [sic] with pain and Kaz kept shaking her head as though she needed to clear it. But she stood straight enough when I called in Kitty and moved behind her.
Straight for the left breast again went Kitty, with two right hooks, a left and right pancake, and Kaz went down, shaking her head again. she got up in around thirty second, and Kitty gave her a left uppercut that tore some skin off the underside of her breast, and she was down again, but not long enough to cry uncle. Two of the cross-over hooks followed as she got up, both of which she took, a second pancake, and a final right hook.
Kaz was down half a minute again before she was fit to get up to follow Kitty's turn. I reminded her that she was giving nine, and Kitty was waiting.
Kitty's right breast was the sorrier, but because the punishment had been spread over both she didn't look to be in as desperate a plight as Kaz. She couldn't have felt much better because her shoulders were beginning to droop and her breasts seemed lower because of it. In that position she was more vulnerable to uppercuts, and Kaz fired in two, one to each breast, before Kitty realized what she was doing and threw back her shoulders. Two hooks to the left breast followed, one after the other, the first high up on the breast, and the second into the underside.
They were both howling in agony at each blow now, and that was not surprising with the bruising that was showing. Kaz hammered a right pancake and crushed Kitty's left breast for her fifth blow, and ended it with four hooks as before, two to each breast. The second, to the right, again caused Kitty to drop for twenty-five seconds. The last one, to the left breast, she took and came straight back to the scratch to deal her ten blows to Kaz.
"Ten," I told Kaz as she faced, but she was so hurt now that she could hardly find the strength to nod. Unconsciously, she turned slightly, offering her left breast to Kitty who took it with relish, slamming in first a pancake, and almost before Karen could react to it, a left hook. She was down after that for ten seconds, but it was shock mainly, and she was up quickly to face two uppercuts, one from each hand.
Kaz was yelling in agony all the time now, and they were making so much noise that if the farm had not been so remote it couldn't have gone on.
The remaining six blows Kitty took more time with, savaging the nipple with a right and left cross, then burying both her bag-gloves into the swollen breast. Her last two were another of the cross-over left hooks and a right uppercut that removed even more skin from under Kaz's left breast.
Kitty then stood to take her medicine, and Kaz delivered it in three separate flourishes. Four pancakes started it, then three hooks against alternating breasts. two uppercuts took her to nine, and the last was a hay-making right bolo that dropped Kitty in a heap. She had been down three times during the set, but had got up again each time.
I heard myself saying "End of first round. Five minutes break," and found myself standing over an empty scratch.
Kitty had darted to the john and Kaz threw herself down on one of the two blankets I'd put on the stoop for them to lie on. Looking at my watch I was horrified to realize that the first round had lasted forty-five minutes.
Marty sat there looking very green. "Can't you stop it?" he asked me. "They are women. They'll ruin each other."
"I'm not stopping now!" Kaz bawled at him. "Not for you, you son of a bitch." I looked at him and shrugged. He did not look happy, but what could he do?
It was clearly now between she and Kitty, and Kaz was not ready to give way.
After that outburst she just lay flat on her back, gloved hands above her head and quivering with pain. I had never thought that things would get this bad, but they had agreed to buffet to a finish, and after seeing Kitty go through as bad at Diane's I couldn't say to him that they would stop. I honestly didn't believe they would.
By then, Kitty was back and lying resting on her blanket, and there were three minutes left of break time.
It seemed like nothing and when it was over I called them back to the scratch. In this round Kaz was due to start first, and when they were set I called out "One," and Kaz laid a right haymaker into Kitty.
The rest had helped them a lot, and any sign of weakening disappeared until they reached the four level. After taking eight, nine and ten at a time, two or three seemed a luxury.
Kitty was now going at Kaz's right breast and I couldn't decide which seemed worse, Kitty having to take Karen's haymakers into two breasts that were already bruised black and swollen, or Kaz having to face the destruction of her unhurt breast. What became very clear very soon, though, was Kitty's dread of having to stand first. I could sense that she felt that if she couldn't stand the rising number of blows, Kaz was going to win, and the mental pain looked even worse than the physical. Nor did they seem as strong as they had in the beginning. The sweat was dripping off them both, and Kaz was having to steady herself between every blow she slammed at Kitty.
Copying Kitty from the first round, Karen started to go for just one breast after the four level, the right, which I think was the worse of the two after the first round.
It was at this time that they started showing signs of weakening again. There had been no knockdowns in the second until Kaz put all five of her next set of punches into Kitty's right breast. She pancaked her twice, hooked twice, left and right, then uppercut. The uppercut was a poor punch because it did not sink right in, but skimmed over the surface. Her knuckles tore across Kitty's nipple, though, and dragged it upwards, She screamed and went to her knees, hands on the ground, and stayed there shuddering for five or six seconds, letting her breasts swing free. She was so heavily swollen that she looked twice her normal size.
Kaz was braced before Kitty got up, and a minute or more must have passed before I was forced to remind her to come to scratch. She later told me that that blow was the worst of the whole contest and had felt as though Karen had laid a red-hot iron across her.
Once she restarted Kitty drove five straight pistons into Kaz's right breast, and Kaz somehow took them all.
Kitty stood immediately for her six, and Kaz took almost no recovery time. I feared that she would repeat the drag-punch and have Kitty in desperate trouble, but she must have thought the hooks were doing the damage, and not the uppercut because she sent in six that time, three lefts to the right breast and three rights to the left.
Kitty took them all and laid into Kaz with a series of uppercuts, all lefts, and all into the reddening right breast. Kaz winced and yelped at each one, but didn't go down, and I could feel the worry in Kitty as she made herself stand for her seven.
And it was worrying. Kaz had seemed desperate at the end of the first round, but seemed the stronger of the two now. Kitty had to drop twice in the series, after the third and fifth, both straight punches that Kaz found extra strength for and which crushed everything hard against her ribs. By the end of the seven Kitty was whining in agony and staggering, and was again a long time coming to the scratch
She uppercut twice into Kaz's right breast for openers, paused a long time, deliberately hanging the time out. That was too tough on Kaz and I told Kitty to strike again. I had no power to stop or disqualify either girl except after a minute's inability to stand during a set - no-one had thought of the striker hanging things out like Kitty had been doing - but I felt what she was doing was unfair.
Kitty had been confident of winning this buffett phase, but it was now obvious that her confidence was fading. She carried on at once when I'd spoken to her and put three more into Kaz.
Somewhere about there, Kaz seemed to weaken rapidly. Whether Kitty had caused her so much pain that she had gone over the top of her strength to endure it I don't know, but the fifth blow had her own writhing and the sixth made her stagger away with her head thrown back. The seventh punch was the most terrible uppercut I've seen, piling up the flesh into a crushed mountain near the right collar bone, and it sent Kaz down squealing horribly. She was on her haunches, sort of hunkered, with both arms crossed across her breasts, hugging herself. Instead of the brave woman she had been till then she suddenly looked like a hurt little girl, and I was reminded of how young she was compared with Kitty.
Kitty must have had the same sort of feeling because she came to the scratch with her shoulders back, and her breasts, bad as they were, thrust right out, her head high, almost telling Kaz to do her worst with the eight blows that were to come.
It was all a bluff, as Kaz showed as soon as she had pulled herself together, and put in a series of eight blows that tore Kitty's bravado to shreds. She was down three times, each time for longer, but these were to prove Kaz's last blows of the contest.
Kitty finished it with a kind of brutal brilliance that is impossible to describe real well. The first two blows were bad, uppercuts to the right breast, both from the inside outwards, like the one that had sent her down at the end of the seven set, and they had Kaz down again. She seemed to be crumpling inside herself as they went in, and god knows what it must have cost her to get up for more, though she did it.
Marty, from the stoop, was mouthing something that I wasn't listening to. I was getting real worried by how much they were both taking, and didn't have much time for him.
Kaz looked finished at that time, but wasn't. She got up for the third, trembling and frightened, took a pancake and writhed a bit but stood straight enough. When Kitty buried a hook into her for the fourth, I thought she'd go, but she didn't. The fifth was another uppercut, angled from the left, and tore straight up through her right breast. It sent her down again, and I was sure that this time she wouldn't make it.
I was wrong. She did make it.
It was now that Kitty made the coup-de-grace. She threw in two quick, vicious punches. The sixth mulched the right breast, but for the seventh, for the first time that round, she went for the left, a right hook, and Kitty's worst punch to take.
It sank so deep into the black-bruised mass of her left breast that I felt it might never come out again, and Kaz swayed, went limp and collapsed in a heap across the scratch. To my horror I saw that she had passed out.
We waited a couple of minutes (Marty totally forgot to count) but she wouldn't come round. Then, when she did, she had had enough. She was barely able to stand, and it was obvious that she had gone right to the end of her strength. I don't think Kitty could have stood a lot more either. They were both very near the end of their rope, and were in a dreadful state.
It was 11.25 when it ended, and I felt wrung out with worry myself. I was very troubled about the amount of damage that had been inflicted on both sides, but especially for Kaz. I doubt that she had known that she would be so badly hurt by the end of it, and the pain she had gone through staggered me. In Kitty's case I was more prepared for it, but even she had taken far too much for anyone's peace of mind, and it wasn't pleasant having to watch them suffer more after the contest than during it.
Kitty swore the pain got worse, and I could see that she was in far worse trouble than after the maul with Diane. I did not believe that they would be capable of going on to the second phase the next day. The heat did not help, either. Even the `cold' water was quite warm in the tank, and though they both showered again and again during the day to try to keep the pain down, it didn't help much.
Marty couldn't stand sitting around watching them and disappeared for long intervals leaving me to do what I could. I would never let anyone do this again without first agreeing to have treatment afterwards, because having to watch them suffer like they were suffering and being unable to do anything to relieve the pain was the worst part of it.
It must have been hell for them too, but they kept to their bargain, and never took so much as a pain-killer all that day and the following night.
And they had both taken more than I'd ever seen anybody stand up to. There weren't as many blows as they might have had to withstand in a boxing bout, but because they were so concentrated and all full force the effect must have been worse. The swelling was real bad, and didn't stop increasing till supper time.
Kaz had her worst time in the early evening and went to her room and cried. Kitty suffered hers around midnight and the first part of the night, and I said to her that she ought not to let herself or Kaz go into the maul phase on the Sunday. I didn't believe that they would be able to even start that. Their breasts were so bad that I was real scared of very serious damage.
Kitty thought that I was making too much of it. She told me that as she'd said she'd do it she would do it, and if anybody called it off it wasn't going to be her. I suppose she was right. I tried to talk to Kaz about it, too, but she refused to listen. She said that she would show that son-of-a-bitch what she was made of, and would have none of my saying that I thought she had already given him his answer.
They did manage to eat some hamburgers I made in the late afternoon, but they said they felt nauseous earlier in the day. I never expected that they would have to go on to the maul phase, but it was about then I knew what a rat Marty was.
"She was all mouth before this morning, and she got beat. I'll see her eat skunk before I'll let her out of it!"
True! He was that insensitive.
If Kitty hadn't been stuck on finishing out I would have punched him in the mouth. I wondered how much he wanted to see poor Kaz take. I admit I was more worried for her than for Kitty. Kitty had done this kind of thing before, but it was new to the Iowan youngster.
[NB. Editor's note: The actual transcript of Fred's letter ends here, but my New Zealand correspondent gave me sketchy details of what happened subsequently, and this is used below to complete the account. Ajax]They came down at eight on the Sunday morning ready to continue the ordeal. It looked impossible. Both women's breasts were now hugely swollen, and practically completely black with bruise. Karen, who was the larger had swelled the most, had had to support herself just walking by placing her arm under her breasts. Kitty wasn't quite that bad. She was swollen pretty hard, and heavy, but wasn't rolling as bad as the younger woman.
This phase was to take place in three minute rounds on the lounge carpet, and mauling was to be part of the wrestling, not a special event between rounds as had Kitty's earlier tussle with Diane.
From the first they were in desperate straits, screaming when even the slightest weight was placed on their breasts.
Fred, who watched from a sofa, followed the action with his video camera, and was amazed that they were able to bring themselves to fight at all in their condition.
This first round ran its course, but they both stayed kneeling on the mat at its end, pouring with pain sweat, now almost unable to move at all. Karen was crying, and both were panting for breath, fighting excruciating pain.
They came to grips for a second round, in which Kitty got the upper hand, dug her fingers into the rolling mounds that were Kaz's breasts, and dug and twisted until the youngster passed out again. More than a minute elapsed, and Kitty was again declared the winner.
At that point, Marty, unable to stand watching any more of it, left the room to throw up, and Fred had to help Kitty away. Karen, they let lie there till she came round, and by the time Marty returned, Fred had both girls lying on blankets with towels full of ice cubes across their breasts. They were so exhausted that it was an hour before either was able to get up and collapse into a chair.
The following morning, Fred and Kitty left the farm, and Kitty stoically endured the long and agonizing drive back to Seattle. She was just able to return to work two weeks later when her vacation time expired, but suffered from recurring breast pain until Easter of 1983, after which she suffered no further ill effects.
What happened to Karen after they left the farm, Fred didn't know, but Marty paid Kitty what he owed her, and his cheque was honoured. They assumed that Karen also got her dues, including the $500 action bonus that Kitty had insisted should be paid to the other girl, taking the winner's one for herself.
No contact has been possible with any of the parties since.
END No.1111 12/1990
Word count: 8180
