For the second of my character histories I’ve chosen Miss Tee. Tee is one of my favourite characters and one I love writing about. Her story is very different from mine and much more exciting so I hope you enjoy it. As with my own story there are details of a few fights and references to a lot more. If you’d like to read stories about Tee’s early fights let me know.
Please note that some of the (non-fighting) parts of Tee’s story are based on actual events in the life of a friend of a friend. I want to make it clear that my friend's friend is not a fighter nor does she get up to Tee’s sexual antics and Tee’s story is not a reflection of that lady’s life, it just borrows a bit from it 
In my next “beginnings” story I’ll be writing about Jan. If you would like me to write a similar story about any of my other characters let me know and I’ll see what I can do.
Ellen XI was always the rebel, the wild child raging against the system, raging against the family. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother and father but I hate them as well – for the stupid name they gave me. Titania what sort of name is that for a girl? I ask you, no way to shorten it, no way to make sense of it. Intentionally or otherwise, they turned me into a right bitch.
I was never great academically and I dropped out of school quite early on. I had a succession of menial jobs and a fairly reckless lifestyle, constantly partying and hooking up wilder and wilder boyfriends, driving my parents to distraction. I wasn’t a bad girl, I didn’t commit crimes or do hard drugs or anything like that, but I certainly wasn’t an angel like my sister.
By the time I was 19 I was travelling around Europe, Inter-railing, with a boy I’d met. Our relationship fell apart in Amsterdam at the end of 1987. We were headed home but, with nothing to go home to, I changed my mind and took a night train to Munich and then on to Vienna.
It was winter and I needed a job. Fortunately, I was in Austria. Skiing season was just starting and there were jobs going for chalet girls, a euphemistic term for slaves to look after rich people while they enjoyed themselves skiing and getting drunk.
Around that time skiing was become pretty popular with the yuppies and the young wealthy kids from the UK. Because I was English I often had chalets full of these are rather arrogant rich kids. For the most part they treated me like dirt but sometimes they treated me quite well and it was fun to be around people of my own age.
Somehow, I stuck the job out. It meant I had free accommodation, somewhere warm in the winter months, and I was earning, it wasn’t all that bad. By March the season was starting to come to an end and I was wondering what to do next when one particular group, a bunch of young twentysomethings, enthusiastic boys and excitable girls arrived at my chalet. They were a pretty wild bunch, enjoying their skiing time and enjoying themselves in the evening as well. I was their maid, almost a servant but they treated me like I was one of them and involved me in their evening parties.
At the time I was calling myself Terri, anything was better than Titania, and that’s what the guys knew me as in the chalet. On one night one of the girls had a bit too much to drink and started shooting her mouth off about how she could take on any woman in the place. One of the guys challenged her to prove it:
“Come on then Sally let’s see you take someone on. How about you fight Terri?”
Wow! Hold on a moment, I didn’t agree to that. But hey, I was just a skivvy, what did I have to say about it? Drunken Sally came over and slapped me about the face:
“Okay Terri I’m gonna beat you up.” She slurred. “Now get your clothes off and let’s do this.”
Everyone was getting excited. We stripped to our bras and panties and the gang cleared some space on the living room floor. We faced off, a little unsure what to do. The gang were shouting, egging us both on. She slapped me a few times. I slapped her back. She lunged me and grabbed my hair. I grabbed hers and we shook each other’s heads violently. Then I threw her to the floor and jumped on top of her. I straddled her chest, still holding her hair and smashed her head against the floor a few times until she screamed:
“I give up! I give up! Please Terri, no more! I’m sorry!”
And that was it. Or was it?
Everyone seemed quite excited by this short dramatic encounter. One of the boys said: “Terri, you’re quite a tough bitch. We should find you someone else to fight, someone who be more in your league.”
I didn’t answer I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight anyone, but I had enjoyed it.
A few days later Chris, the alpha male of the group, came up to me and said: “Hey Terri, how would you like to earn some extra money?”
I nodded, of course I would. He continued: “We’ve found a girl for you to fight, another chalet girl, a local. She says she’s fought before. We’ll pay you…”
I asked how much, he named the price, it sounded good to me so I said yes. The next evening it was all set. The room had been cleared and the gang was all there. I was sat in a chair wearing just a lilac bra and brief set and a dressing gown, waiting for my opponent. Just before eight there was a knock on the door and in walked a young lady who I had seen around the resort. She was probably a year or two older than me and a little shorter. She had shoulder length curly brown hair that contrasted with my long chestnut locks, which I had tied back in a ponytail. She was wearing a coat which, when she slipped it off, revealed a pair of white cotton panties and a stretchy white boob tube which was a fashion at the time. The boob tube, as the name suggests, flattened her tits but did nothing to conceal her pronounced nipples.
She looked around the room for a moment before her eyes settled on me. I stood up and let my dressing gown fall to the floor. She smiled and, in halting English, said: “Hi, I’m Claudia, I’m here to fight you.”
Well, what could I say: “Hallo, ich bin Terri, ich bin auch hier, um gegen dich zu kämpfen.”
I think the gang were as surprised as she was. I hadn’t been in Austria long but, for the first time in my life, I’d realised that I had learned something at school – a basic command of German.
Chris decided he would referee and opted to do a great showman bit at the start, talking to his housemates as if they were an audience:
“Ladies and gentlemen, our fight tonight is between our chalet girl Terri who is 20, from England and Claudia who is 23 from Austria. Ladies I want a good clean fight no biting, no scratching, no gouging anything else goes. You will fight until one of you submits or is unable to continue.”
With that we faced off, much the same way that I done previously with Sally, except that it was obvious that Claudia knew what she was doing. She didn’t charge in and slap me. She struck a pose with arms wide and muscles tensed, ready to grapple. I copied her stance. We circled each other cautiously before coming together and locking up. We struggled together for a few moments before she threw me to the floor and jumped on top of me. I’ve been in a few fights before when I was at school. I figured I knew what I was doing but it was obvious this girl had real experience. I was going to struggle to beat her, despite my superior size.
We wrestled on the floor for five minutes or more neither of us really gaining advantage until I managed to get on top of her. I had my knees on her shoulders and was shoving my bum in her face. I thought I was in control but she swung her legs up and scissored my head. She crossed her ankles and her thighs started squeezing my neck. I grabbed her calves and tried to pull her legs apart but she was too strong, I was being strangled. Suddenly she rolled to her right while driving a fist between my legs and into my panties. I screamed as she rolled on top of me, her legs still around my neck. I was on my back with my legs spread and my feet on the floor. She delivered a chop to my pussy and I screamed again. She shouted at me: “Submit Terri! Give in, I have beaten you.”
“No!” I screamed, but I had no idea what to do. I was in serious trouble. She continued to squeeze my neck and punch me between the legs. My hands were still free so, in desperation, I grabbed her arms and pulled her forward. At the same time, I bought my knees up, pulling her face into them. My knees connected with her face, giving her simultaneous shiners in both eyes.
She screamed and released the hold, backing off and coming to her feet with her back to the wall. I rolled over and came to my knees, massaging my neck for a moment before the gang started chanting: “Ter-ee! Ter-ee!”
I launched myself at her and slammed her into the wall before sticking my hand between her legs and flipping her over my shoulder. She landed on her back behind me but grabbed my knees and pulled me over with her. I landed on top of her, my bum on her tits. My head hit the floor between her legs and I was momentarily stunned. Fortunately, I’d knocked the wind out of her and was pinning her to the floor. I sat up and saw her head between my legs. I grabbed her by the hair.
I was sat on her chest, my hands in her hair, banging her head on the floor. She reached up and, in a desperate move, undid the clasp on my bra. It slipped down my arms exposing my breasts and suddenly there was silence. I stopped banging her head and she stopped struggling. I stared down at the bra straps around my wrists and then at my naked, sweaty breasts. Now what?
“Nice tits Terri!” cried one of the boys. I could feel myself blushing.
“We’ll pay you double to fight topless!” Another one cried enthusiastically and the whole gang, girls included, seemed to agree. I was still shocked. Claudia looked up at me and nodded. Cautiously I let go of her hair and stood up, letting my bra fall to the floor. She sat up and quickly pulled off her boob tube – she had lovely tits, a little bigger than mine, with firm pink nipples. Then she got to her feet and we faced off again.
She offered me her open palms. We locked fingers in a trial of strength, closing on each other until we were breast to breast, nipples rubbing nipples. I had never rubbed my tits against another girl’s before and I started to feel aroused. Our lips brushed. I sensed she was experiencing the same sensations I was. Using my height advantage, I forced her back hoping to force her to the floor. Before I could she swung her legs up and scissored my waist. I tried to straighten up but I was off balance and I fell backwards, her legs still locked around my waist. I landed hard on my back with her on top of me.
Claudia has the sense to release the scissors as we hit the floor and I found myself pinned beneath her. As she shuffled her way up my body I reached up with both hands, grabbed her breasts and pulled her off me by the tits.
For the next 10 minutes we writhed around on the floor trying to dominate one another. She was good, skilled but smaller than me. I was pretty clueless but I was learning and my superior size was helping. Almost 20 minutes of wrestling, more than half of it with our tits out, came to an end when I managed to pin her to the floor and get astride her, knees on her shoulders and feet either side of her head. I planted my backside firmly on her face. My knickers were soaking and I’m embarrassed to admit it wasn’t all sweat. She must have smelt my sex as I rubbed my crotch in her face.
She tried to bridge out and tip me off. I punched her in the belly and she sank back to the floor. I wriggled my bum a bit and she tried to bridge out again. One of the girls cried out: “Now’s your chance, punch her in the pussy Terri! Like she did to you!”
Well, anything to oblige. My right fist landed squarely in her crotch with a squelch – she was also soaking wet down there. She squealed and dropped back to the floor again. After that she didn’t try another bridge. She struggled for a bit, slapping at my thighs and pulling on the waistband of my panties, but there was nothing she could do. We were both exhausted by then, sweating like pigs and panting like bitches on heat.
Starved of air by my buttocks, she slowly grew weaker and eventually lay still with her arms spread out. Chris took this as a sign that she had given up the fight and reprised his MC role: “Ladies and gentlemen after 20 minutes of fighting we have a winner. Claudia has given up and Terri is our champion!
Everyone applauded loudly. I savoured the moment raising my arms in victory before slowly kneeling up and allowing Claudia to breathe again. She lay there, red-faced, as I got to my feet, turned around and offered her a hand up. It had been a good fight and I enjoyed it. I think she had too. She gave me a brief hug as the boys divided up the money and handed it out to us, one third to Claudia, two thirds to me. Then she put her boob tube back on, picked up a coat and headed for the door. I walked with her, thanking her for the experience. At the door she turned to me and said: “Terri if you are ever in Vienna, call this number and asked for Heidrich.”
She had me a business card it just had “Catz Club” and a Vienna phone number on it. I thanked her, we hugged briefly and she slipped out the door. I didn’t see her again at the resort but at the end of the week, when I came back to the chalet after the gang had left, I found a very large tip waiting for me.
I don’t know where the word got back to resort managers about the raucous behaviour in my chalet or not but, for the rest of the season, the groups I had in my chalet were staid, middle-aged Germans who had come to ski and do nothing else. They treated me like dirt and ignored me unless they needed something. There was none fun I had with the English yuppies that week and the weeks before.
When the skiing season ended, I still wasn’t ready to go back home. I drifted back to Vienna in search of work and got a job as an au pair looking after a couple of young Austrian kids while their parents went to work. It was fun and paid well. I loved the kids but I was missing the action. I needed something else to do in my free time. Looking through my purse one day I found the card that Claudia given me. Ask for Heidrick, she’d said. I called the number and a guy answered.
“Is that Heidrick?” I asked.
“Ja, ja,” he replied “But, you are English, please call me Harry.”
“OK Harry, I got your number from a girl called Claudia. She said I should call you.”
“Claudia? Claudia?”
“Yes, a cute girl with brown hair. We were working in the ski resorts. We had a fight, I won.”
“Ah, ja Wohl. Claudia, sexy Claudia. She told you to call me? What is your name my child?”
“Terri.” I replied.
“And you like to fight, yes?” “
I’m not sure I like to fight but I’m willing to fight for money.”
“Do you do Boxen?”
“I’ve never tried boxing but if you’re willing to teach me, I could lean.”
“Excellent! Then please come to my club next Thursday evening and we can talk some more. Here is the address.”
He gave me the address over the phone and hung up. I put the phone down gently not really sure what I was letting myself in for but I had the next Thursday evening free so why not?
On Thursday evening I made my way to the address he’d given me, a small bar in a non-descript backstreet near the centre of Vienna. It looked closed. I knocked on the door and a middle-aged man opened it:
“You must be Terri.” he said “I am Harry. You come to boxen for us, yes?” I nodded. “Good, good, I pay you well – 1000AS if you lose, 2000AS if you win. Come in. We are about to start.”
He led me through the darkened bar and into a brightly lit back room where a boxing ring had been set up in the middle of the floor. A number of chairs were lined up against the walls and there were a few women and men sitting on some of them. Two doors led away from the room with restroom signs on them. I also noticed there were cameras sat on tripods.
“You film these fights?” I asked. “Yes of course, it is how I make a living. We sell the videos. Very popular in America. That’s how I can afford to pay you so much.”
I nodded slightly uncomfortable at the idea of some American dude getting off on watching me fight but, hey, what were the odds someone somewhere that I knew would pick up a topless boxing video from a company in Vienna and recognise little old me? The hell with it, I could do with the money.
“So, when do I start?” I asked him.
“Why tonight of course.”
“What about training?”
“Ah Terri, you’re a big strong girl, you don’t need training. Just watch the other girls. Watch and learn Terri, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.”
I felt uncomfortable immediately. He just smiled and handed me a pair of white sports briefs with a red stripe on the side.
“Don’t worry, they stretch.” He said, “Please join the other girls in the blue corner dressing room and put these on.” He indicated the restroom with a man’s figure on the door.
Tentatively I walked through it to find three other girls, all changed into similar briefs and topless waiting in the restroom.
“Hi I’m Terri.” I said in German, “I’m new here.”
The other girls nodded their acknowledgement but one of them, a redhead dressed in green briefs, spoke to me in English:
“Hi Terri, I’m Lesley. Welcome to the club.”
“Hi Lesley, I’m not sure I know what I’m doing here. I’ve never tried boxing before. Harry said I’d get some training but now he says just watch what you girls do and copy it.”
“Don’t worry Terri, you’ll be fine. Just watch me. I’ve done this before. There will be four fights tonight. I’ll be up first, then Laura here and then Monique – you will be fighting last. Watch and learn, Terri, watch and learn.”
“Watch and learn” seemed to be a mantra round here but there wasn’t much else I could do. I undressed and slipped on the briefs that Harry given me. I felt a little exposed in just a pair of panties. Lesley handed me a gown. The other girls picked up their gowns and slipped them on as well. There was a knock on the door and we filed out and took our seats by the side of the ring. As well as our four opponents there were about fifteen men and women who were obviously spectators. Two girls also stood by the cameras on tripods obviously ready to film the action.
Harry climbed into the ring and welcomed everybody. Lesley climbed into the ring slipped off her gown. Harry fitted her gloves. Then a large blonde girl stepped into the other corner and slipped off her gown to reveal blue briefs. Again, Harry fitted her gloves. Then he called them to the centre of the ring, got them to face the camera and briefly introduced them before sending them back to their corners.
The bell sounded for the first round and I watched intently as Lesley and the blonde girl came together and started fighting. Lesley clearly knew what she was doing but the blonde girl was much better than her. Lesley was dominated throughout the fight. She was knocked down four, maybe five, times but beat the count each time. By contrast, and in spite of Lesley’s best efforts, the blonde was never seemed to be in any serious trouble.
Amazingly, given the beating she taken. Lesley was still standing at the end of six rounds and Harry declared to the match a draw. The blonde girl was clearly furious. She had dominated the match and was clearly the superior fighter and yet this man that had the audacity to call the fight draw. A fierce verbal exchange in German took place between Harry and the blonde. She cursed him and spat at him. At one stage I thought she was going to actually hit him but he stuck by his decision. In the end she ripped off her gloves, threw them at him and stormed out of the ring. The next time I saw Gabi Marshall was 27 years later in her office as CEO of Marshall’s health clubs.
I watch the next two fights with interest. Laura. a solidly built stocky girl with short black hair and a deep tan, easily dominated her lighter, slimmer opponent and it was no surprise when she knocked her out in the fourth round. Monique struggled in her fight against a clearly more experienced girl of similar size and build but kept coming back for more. Eventually, with just seconds of the fight remaining, she was knocked out by her opponent.
With one win to each ‘team’ and one draw it fell to me, the rookie, to try and win the day for the blue corner. I climbed into the ring and looked across at my opponent, Clara, a tall blonde girl wearing black briefs with yellow stripe. She towered over me and I thought I had no chance. I was right.
I did my best to do what I learned from watching the other girls but it was a one-sided fight. Clara was experienced and big and had a hard punch. I don’t know how many times she knocked me down in the first three rounds, all I know is I didn’t knock her down once. I ended the third round on the deck but was saved by the Bell. I came out for the fourth round but I really had no fight left in me. She pummelled me with punches and pushed me into a corner where she beat me until I slowly sank to the floor. Harry stepped in, moved her away and counted me out. I couldn’t have got up if I wanted to, I was completely beaten.
After the fight Lesley came and helped me out of the ring and back to our so-called dressing room. “Don’t worry,” she said,” you’ll get better. Just think you made 1000AS tonight.”
It was little gratification for the pain and bruising I’d suffered but I realised that, despite losing. I’d actually enjoyed myself. I couldn’t wait to do it again.
Throughout the summer I looked after my charges by day and, at every opportunity, went to Catz Club to fight at night. I enjoyed fighting Lesley and the other girls and even Claudia came back for a while and I was able to both box and wrestle with her.
Lesley and I were well matched size wise but she was a much better boxer than me, at least to begin with. Her large boobs were an obvious target and in our first fight, two weeks after my fight with Clara, I went after them. They were surprisingly hard to hit as Lesley danced around and I left myself open far too often. I did manage to knock her down once but she knocked me down four times before, mid-way through round three, I was counted out.
Harry obviously liked the pairing because two weeks later we faced each other again. This time it ended in a draw but Lesley probably had the edge. It wasn’t until our fourth match that I scored a convincing win over Lesley, knocking her out in round 4, although by that time I had beaten a couple of the other girls.
I also wrestled at Harry’s – the format was submissions and ten count controlling pins, sometimes with a time limit (usually fifteen minutes) and sometimes just a single fall. Lesley was better at this than me as well and, on the few occasions we wrestled, she always came out on top.
My hair had always been shoulder length or longer but, after a year away from home, it stretched down to my bum. I experimented with different styles, ponytails, plaits, buns, you name it. One day I turned up at the club with my hair in two plaits either side of my head. Harry went crazy and started shouting “Princess Vicky, Princess Vicky”.
When he calmed down, he showed me a magazine with photos of a professional wrestler in the US called Princess Victoria. We looked very similar, same size, same build, same hair style. The only difference was that she wore a one-piece swimsuit and knee pads while I just wore my little white sports briefs. Harry explained she was one of his favourite pro-wrestlers but she had retired.
That night we were wrestling and he insisted on pairing me with a blonde girl, Petra, who he said looked like another of his pro-wrestling heroines, a girl called Joyce. We were well matched. I won that first single fall encounter but we met several times more, always with my hair in the two plaits, and we were probably about even by the time I left. Petra and I also boxed twice – I beat her both times – but I preferred a single ponytail or plait when I boxed, the long ‘bangs’ were a distraction.
After a few months I’d gained enough confidence to ask Harry for a rematch with Clara and I’m pleased to say I knocked her out in the fifth round.
I enjoyed my time in Vienna but in the autumn my employers decided they no longer needed my services. I couldn’t afford to stay just on the money that Harry was paying me from flights and I couldn’t find any more au pair work so I had to decide what to do. I could either head for the mountains and go back to the ski chalets or head for home. It was too early in the season for skiing and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back to being a chalet slave anyway so I hopped on a train back to England and moved back in with my parents.
They were pleased to see me and keen to hear of my travels. I’d been away for a year and a half so I felt they had a right to know what I’ve been up to, at least the parts and I was willing to tell them about – Harry’s was definitely never mentioned. I stayed with them for a few weeks but I was still restless and still wanted to keep my own company. I wasn’t ready to be part of society yet.
A few weeks before Christmas and my 21st birthday I decided to take to the hills and walk the backbone of England alone through winter months. Yes, I know I’m crazy but that’s what a 21-year-old girl with an attitude problem does to try and find herself.
I set out on my travels with a little money, a tent and a backpack. Heading north, vowing that if the weather turned really nasty, I would head for the nearest town and go home. All the while secretly hoping it didn’t. About a week into my travels, I came across a farm, a kind of a smallholding, high in the hills which advertised itself as hostel and B&B. It was out of season and probably closed but I knocked on the door anyway. I was greeted by a red headed woman a few years older than me (I later found it she was 26) and clearly several months pregnant.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m looking for somewhere to stay for few days. I don’t have much money but perhaps I can do some work for you in exchange for accommodation and food?”
She smiled at me and, in a broad Belfast accent, invited me into her small farmhouse.
“Come in and have some tea.” She said: “I’m afraid money is in short supply on my side as well but if you’re willing to work for a bed, you can stay as long as you like.”
I sat in the warmth of the kitchen and we fell to talking. She told me her name was Sian she had inherited the farm from an uncle and had moved here a couple of years previously. She let most of the land out but kept a few animals, chickens and sheep, around the place and ran it as a sort of hikers’ hostel to pay her way. Hikers came at all times of the year but very few in the winter. I asked her about the bump and when was the baby due.
“Oh, I’m about six months now she’ll be here before the spring, late February or maybe early March.”
She was adamant are unborn child would be a girl.
“And the father?”
“Oh, he’s long gone – I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”
I was shocked by her matter-of-fact dismissal of her unborn child’s father. In all the years I’ve known her she’s rarely mentioned him again.
I only planned to stay a night or two but the more I got to know Sian, the more I got to see into her life, the more I wanted to be part of it. One thing I liked about her was that she never asked any searching questions. A young girl wanders in off the moors in the middle of winter, admits she little money and no fixed agenda and you don’t ask questions? Sian, I love you for that.
After I’d been there a few days she said to me: “I suppose you’ll be moving on soon; I’ll miss your company.”
I hadn’t thought about it but I replied: “I have no firms plans Sian. No one’s expecting me and I have nowhere I need to be. I can’t leave you here alone throughout the winter, let me stay and help you.”
“Would you Terri? That would be most kind. It gets lonely up here, particularly at nights.”
And that was it I settled in with Sian, worked for her, helped her out that winter and into the spring and, do you know, she was right. In early March, one evening when the snow was driving in a blizzard, she went into labour. I called for an ambulance from the local hospital but the roads are all blocked they couldn’t get to us. I was 21. They talked me through delivering the baby over the phone. I was terrified but somehow through my panic and fumbling I helped Sian give birth to a beautiful baby girl, Shannon. The midwife made it through the next morning when the road was cleared and heaped nothing but praise on both me and the mother.
“She’ll grow up to be a fine young girl.” she said. I wondered how I would’ve coped in the same situation if I’ve been alone.
The local paper got wind of the story and sent out a reporter to interview us. They also sent a young lady photographer who insisted on photographing Sian, Shannon and myself. The story ran in the local press describing how a young woman ‘farm hand’ had delivered the baby. The photograph that accompanied the article was very good and the young photographer arranged to have a number of cards made up with the picture on for Sian to send to people
In the weeks that followed birth Sian sent the cards to her many family and friends announcing the new arrival and praising my part in her delivery. One by one replies came in with letters and cards of congratulation. Although I collected the post from the box by the gate every morning, I didn’t pay it much attention. If there was a letter with Austrian stamps and a Vienna post mark on it, I didn’t notice it but one evening, after supper, Sian casually said to me:
“Terri, you’re a girl of many surprises. I didn’t know you were a fighter. I understand you wrestle and box.”
I was shocked – how could she know that? Seeing my confused expression, she passed me a letter that had arrived in the post that day. The address was in Vienna, the name typed the bottom was Heidrich Stortz, above which a flamboyant signature said “Harry”. The letter said how lucky Sian was to have me as her assistant at his daughter’s birth. Harry went on to extol my fighting prowess and suggest perhaps I could fight for her club.
“Your club?” I asked Sian. She blushed and was, momentarily, a little coy, not something I’d seen in her before.
“Harry is an old friend.” She explained: “It was something I was going to tell you about a while ago. Obviously, I couldn’t fight while I was pregnant but, yes, for several years I’ve been a fighter. Recently I’ve started a club in a suburb of Manchester with a friend of mine. Unfortunately I got pregnant shortly after that so I haven’t done much myself. There are a number of girls who like to fight on a regular basis you’re welcome to join us if you like. Based on what Harry says you’ll enjoy it.”
We spent the rest of that evening watching videos of Sian and her friends in action. The oldest videos of Sian were from another location but a few were more recent, filmed at what Sian called “our club”. These showed girls fighting naked in a ring in front of other naked women fighters – there was no one else present. The fighting was physical and the girls seemed to respect each other’s bodies. The whole thing had more of an air of naturist group than a lesbian orgy.
As we watched Sian explained a bit more: “Yes, we fight naked and, sometimes, it gets pretty sexy. Let’s just say we all prefer women to men, some more so than others. We film the fights more for ourselves than to sell them but sometimes, if the girls agree, I pass one on to Harry and he sells copies for us. Everyone is anonymous so nobody knows who you are if you’re fighting for us. And, of course, you get a share of the sales of those videos your in.”
Spring turn into summer and, as young Shannon grew, I stayed on to help Sian around the farm. By May the hiking season had started on earnest. For the next few months we were always busy with guests. Then one afternoon in early September, before any potential guests arrived, Sian put out a sign in the yard saying: “Sorry, we’re closed tonight.”
“Are we having a night off?” I asked. She looked at me and said: “Get your things together Terri, we’re going fighting tonight.”
I was excited. It had been almost a year since I had last fought at Harry’s place. I was looking forward to an evening with the girls. Taking baby Shannon with us, we got in Sian’s old Land Rover and drove down into the city – in itself a daunting experience for me, I hadn’t been further than the local village since I arrived at Sian’s 8 months before. We pulled up outside a fairly bland brick building in a backstreet. It was around 9 pm and the place look deserted, just a few cars randomly parked on the street. We walked up to plain looking door. Sian unlocked it and we stepped into a well-lit corridor. Sian locked the door behind her and led the way down the corridor to the third door on the left. We entered a small room, the one with the ring that I’d seen on her videos. In the room, seated around the ring, were seven naked women waiting in anticipation, their clothes neatly folded beneath their chairs. Looking around the faces I’d say they ranged in age between about 20 and 35. They all looked pretty fit and most eyed me with curiosity but no malice.
“Good evening ladies.” Said Sian, “Let me introduce you to Terri. She’s come to join us tonight. She’s fought at Harry‘s place in Vienna and he highly recommends her.”
With that Sian peeled off her clothes and indicated that I should do the same. When we were both naked, she spoke again: “Ladies, as I have only recently given birth, I will not be fighting tonight but I will be your referee. Let me pair you up and we’ll see what happens.”
She looked around the room for a moment and then said: “Ladies we have a well-matched group here tonight and, if no one has any objections, I think we should go with the following order: first Evie will fight Angie, then Mandy will fight Debbie, Jane will fight Terri and, finally, Nicky will fight Sue. Evie and Angie if you’d like to begin this evenings event…”
With that, two blondes climbed into the ring and the first fight was on. The format was simple best-of-five falls or a 10-count knockout with no time limit. The girls were very good fighters, both fit and agile but Evie, the slightly shorter, fuller figured one, clearly had the edge and it was no surprise when she took the match by three falls to one.
Between fights the girls chatted among themselves and cooed over baby Shannon, asleep in her carry cot. Sian confided to me that Angie was more of a boxer and hinted I might like to face her with the gloves on one day.
The second match, between two larger women, blonde Mandy and brunette Debbie, was more physical with a lot of throwing, punching and kicking. Both girls took a lot of punishment and both submitted twice before, after about 23 minutes, Mandy repeatedly slammed Debbie to the mat until she was unable to beat the count.
Then it was my turn. I had never fought naked before but in this small private room, surrounded by eight other naked women, it seemed perfectly natural. Jane proved an excellent opponent for me. Perhaps 10 years my senior, slightly shorter with shoulder length brown hair and a beautiful figure. Nudity made for a very tactile experience with fingers finding their way into places they wouldn’t normally and, on occasions, dwelling there longer than they should. We wrestled for almost 30 minutes before I finally secured the deciding fall, and my first victory at Sian’s club to the applause of the other women present.
The final match of the evening, between blonde Sue and brunette Nicky, was a far more sensual affair with both keen to sexually arouse the other. I watched with a mixture of fascination and shock as they teased each other relentlessly until, with a loud scream of pleasure, Nicky orgasmed and, in her post climatic moments, was counted out. The whole evening was captivating and I couldn’t wait for the next session.
The girls got together about once a month and I got to fight regularly. As well as a core group of regular fighters we were also treated to a procession of guests. Sian told me these visitors were attracted by discrete ads that Evie ran in specialist magazines. I wrestled with Evie and boxed with Angie. I took a beating from Mandy and, later, gave her one in return. I boxed another girl called Danni (who I also wrestled) and many others whose names I’ve now forgotten.
Sian returned to fighting in the autumn. Her style was less erotic than Nicky’s but more sensual than Evie’s. I watched her in action a few times before taking her on myself and experiencing first hand her delicate fingering of my most sensitive regions. That night, when we got back to the farm, we went to bed together – the start of my first lesbian affair. I remained firmly bi-sexual but sex with Sian, who admitted her preference for women over men (the fling with Shannon’s father had been ‘a mistake’), was always a joy.
I stayed on with Sian that winter helping out on the farm and with the guests and then again through the summer and beyond. What started out as being one or two nights turned into almost four years before I decided it was time to move on and do something with my life. Looking through one of Sian’s farming magazines one day I read about the course at an agricultural college in East Anglia where I could learn about forestry and environmental husbandry. It appealed to me. It was time I grew up and did something with my life. I had always been a bit of an eco-warrior so it suited me well. I signed up for the course and, much to my surprise, I was accepted and was soon heading south again. Before I left Sian gave me one parting gift, a contact number. She said to me: “If you need money, call Gerry, he has a club in London. You can fight for him there.”
So, there I was, a 25-year-old so-called mature student learning how to plant trees and manage for woodlands, wetlands and ecosystems. Needless to say, the student lifestyle appealed to the hedonist in me and it wasn’t long before I was running low on money again. I call Gerry and said that Sian had recommended me. He quizzed me a bit about my fighting experience but when I mentioned I’d fought at Harry’s he seemed happy and invited me to come down.
Unlike Sian and Harry, Gerry didn’t seem to have a fixed venue to stage his events and used two or three different locations around the city, sometimes boxing and wrestling in a ring and sometimes just on mats in a hall. I fought for him on and off for three years and enjoyed a lot of it. It was similar to what I got used to at Harry’s except there was a larger, mostly male, live audience – some of whom were very vocal in their encouragement and advice. I had a wide range of opponents, some good and some not so good, and I probably won more fights than I lost. There was money to be made from Gerry’s events but, unlike Harry’s, there was no prize for the winner and no video royalties, just a fixed fee for each fight. As a result we often fought twice (and sometimes three times) at each event.
Most of the fighting at Gerry’s was topless but some of it was done in swimsuits and some of it was done nude, I wrestled naked once or twice. All the girls were anonymous – using pseudonyms. By this time, I’d changed my name again, at college they knew me as Tina. At Gerry’s, I called myself Tanya. I’d long since given up worrying about whether anyone would recognise me in one of these videos. As longs as my real name wasn’t known I didn’t care.
Gerry had contact with a girl called Nicole who ran a club in Munich and, when he discovered I spoke German, he invited me to go over there with him. I ended up spending two summer vacations there. Nicole herself was a beautiful blonde, about my size and build, and an excellent boxer. Fighting her was always a pleasure although I lost more than I won. A couple of the other girls at her club were also worthy opponents and I received several beatings. During my second summer with Nicole, I was pleased when another visitor arrived, my old friend and opponent from Harry’s club, Lesley. We enjoyed a few more fights together and the honours were fairly even.
Towards the end of my college days, I got into a spat with a younger girl on the course. We’d both been seeing the same guy and she got rather jealous. Things came to ahead one night in the student bar and we ended up having a brief catfight before some of the other students pulled us apart. She’d been working out at the gym, doing boxercise and stuff, and thought she was a contender – obviously she knew nothing about my activities at Gerry’s. She challenged me to a boxing match.
Although I hadn’t done grudge fight since I was at school, I agreed to take her on. We met one evening in the ring in the college gym with gloves on and dressed in bra and panties. Another girl agreed to referee for us.
Alison wasn’t much of a boxer and for the first round I chased her round the ring but we didn’t really make much contact. In the second round I tried to step things up a bit taking the fight to her, knocking her about and showing her I knew how to box. Unfortunately, I got a bit cocky and careless and I hadn’t counted on her being a dirty fighter.
I went to hit her with a right hook but she ducked under my blow and drove her fist hard into my pussy. I don’t know how it happened but as my gloved hands reached for my privates, my bra came undone. I dropped to my knees clutching myself, my bra slipping down around my wrists exposing my breasts. Just like that first time with Claudia I was staring down at the cups of my bra over my naked breasts, only this time there was no one between my legs – just a world of pain.
The referee started counting over me as tears weld up in my eyes. As the count rose, the initial shock and pain turned to anger. “Screw this”, I thought, “I’m not going to be beaten by some amateur”. I got to my feet as the count reached 7, blinking back the tears and throwing off my bra and then I set about really taking a fight to her. For the rest of the round, she was helpless against my assault. I hit her at will and she was desperately holding onto me to stop herself going down when the round ended.
In between rounds I goaded her about taking her bra off to even things up. She was a big girl in that department – probably 38D, which would have made for good targets. Rather unsportingly, I felt, she refused and we never did get to see her nipples. To be honest, given the beating I’d meted out in the closing minute of the previous round, I was surprised she even came out around three. When she did, I just continued to push her around the ring, hitting her with everything I had. After a minute or so I threw caution to the wind and hit her with a series of lefts and rights, leaving myself wide open in the process. I needn't have worried, she wasn’t fighting back any more. My blows connected with her head and boobs and put it down on her back. She never attempted to get up as the count reach 10.
We graduated a few weeks later. I never went back to Gerry’s. My new qualifications got me a few jobs and after a year or so I found myself moving to Ireland, working with a gang clearing trees from power lines and falling in love with a young Irish guy.
For some reason the bosses put me in charge of the gang. I guess it was that kind of ‘if a woman can do it, we should be able to do it better’ mentality that said with a woman in charge these guys would work harder. We were roughnecks, out on our own away from home for days at a time, living like pioneers. There was a lot of drinking, a lot of drugs and a lot of fighting and I wasn’t about to let guys, or the local girls they picked up in pubs, get away without fighting me once in a while.
On the gang they called me ‘boss’ or ‘miss T’ and that name rather stuck. I’ve been known to almost everyone as ‘Tee’ ever since. I think it suits me – mysterious but not sinister.
When I met Connor, I thought maybe I’d start to settle down a bit, but no, we carried on much the same until one day I found myself pregnant with Aidan. I was 31 years old and unmarried mother in a country where being unmarried and having a child was a sin and an abortion was out of the question. 10 years after playing midwife to Sian I got to experience the full ‘pleasure’ of childbirth myself – once was enough for me.
Connor tried his best to be a good father but he just wasn’t cut out for it. Our relationship wasn’t working. We fought a lot and often hurt each other, both physically and emotionally. I was miserable, lonely and afraid and one day, when Aidan was about three, I packed my bags and headed back to my parents for the first time in 12 years
Back in England being a strong single parent was easier than it was in Ireland. I found a place not too far from mum and dad, found some work and started raising Aidan on my own. I kept on good terms with Connor but he stayed in Ireland and accepted that things would never work out properly between us. I also got back in touch with old friends, including Sian. Many summer holidays were spent travelling up to the farm and enjoying the countryside and the quiet life that she and Shannon still shared.
My fighting days were behind me and on my visits to Sian’s fighting was never mentioned while the kids were young. Then, on one visit when Aidan was about 10 or 11, Sian revealed Shannon (by that time 20) had joined her at her club, which was still going strong. She admitted she still fought as well and suggested that if I could ever make it up on my own, I’ll be welcome to join in the action again. I wasn’t sure but a few years later, when Aidan decided he wanted to go and spend some time with his father, I took her up on that offer. Almost 30 years after I’d first knocked on the door, I found myself back at the farmhouse on a January evening that turned out to be very exciting indeed…
