Edwardian family secrets 2

Isabella waited for 2 days for the reply from Penelope but nothing came, she had challenged her to an all out bitch fight, the type of which she had seen at school but not participated in, she wanted this fight badly but was slowly coming to the conclusion that her hated rival did not. She loved to fight and as well as fence she had taken up MMA but this was all controlled, she wanted to feel the thrill of an out of control full on catfight like her ancestor. Wanting to recall the story of Lady Anne once more she took out the diary and noticed a few pages later a small entry two months on which simply said,..

My finest triumph, I trust the reader find a copy of the Dorset chronicle in which a detailed account was written of an incredible prize fight between two hitherto unknown female pugilists who did put on such a ferocious battle that it became local folk lore, Annie of Ashbourne.

Isabella’s heart raced, she instinctively knew what was being hinted at, surely not though, could Lady Anne be the one and the same, Ashbourne Annie. All thoughts of Penelope disappeared as she set to an internet search and some 3 hours and 3 credit card purchases later she was avidly reading a website entry entitiled “A history of female fighters in the UK, the legend of Ashbourne Annie” The first item she downloaded was a copy of a manuscript from the Dorset Chronicle dated September 1727 by a Charles Hawker. The site had revealed that at this time female fights in the county were very prevalent and widely reported. This practise was outlawed in October 1727 and this was one of the last recalled reviews of such an event.

Last weeks incredible scenes at the Dog and Duck will remain as one of the best evening’s catfight entertainment ever. In total there were 4 fights, the first two seeing newcomers put on a great show, the third fight saw Emily defend her crown against local lass Beth in a wild catty brawl, red hair left all over the floor by Emily as she tore into Beth like a wild cat, but the main event surely had to be the final fight, the fervour neigh the savagery of seeing two women fight like possessed demons will live with all who witnessed it for a long time. I have witnessed and written accounts of all recent prize fights at the Dog and Duck, the incredible 1 hour slugfest of John Maynard and Bert Smythe but nothing compares to the battle between Ashbourne Annie and Buxom Babs and what a finer pair of breasts have I never seen and mindful such a fine pair of breasts have I never seen take such savagery. Both women had white silk skin, immaculate long hair and their hands were sheathed in satin gloves, before removing them to reveal their manicured talons. All eyes fell on them as they entered the pit with a servant each, comparisons with local wenches who commanded a good price for their services could not be made, there were no pox marks, no scars and each fighter held her head high as she entered. Whispers that the women were of noble stock were clearly true and this gave the atmosphere even greater tension and the hatred between them was evident as the fight exploded into such a contest never before witnessed at the Dog and Duck. Next month’s event should not be missed as Annie returns to face the undefeated Emily.

Isabelle was immersed in what she was reading, further on in the article it explained that the mysterious figure of Ashbourne Annie reportedly fought once more against Emily but since the event was banned there was no review except an account of the arrest of Emily at the local hospital following a brawl at the Dog and Duck and no sign of Annie. Her true identity whilst the subject of much gossip remained hidden. Babs was later identified as Lady Barbara of Chastleton, this much became evident in the memoirs of Countess Sara de Rochefort, a renowned French duellist who was also an accomplished and frequent catfighter in her duels. We do know that she knew the mysterious Ashbourne Annie as was uncovered in a letter from Annie to the countess but it was never proven they actually fought. Isabella’s excitement grew, on the next page there was a word for word copy of the letter written by Annie to the countess and only the countess and now herself seemed to know Annie’s true identity. Her whole body tingled, she loved fights and reading this was turning her on so much.

My dearest Countess Sara,

I trust this letter finds you well and that after reading it you are suitably impressed as to want to return with my maid to meet me as there is undoubtedly a matter we need to settle, for you see apart from yourself I am the only other noble woman to have bettered, nay battered lady Barbara and I write today with all the gory detail and ambience that I know excites you.

I apologise now if the tone offends but I consider that you will find it acceptable as you of the same stock as Lady Barbara, need I say more.

Suffice to say I did suffer a defeat at her hands some two months earlier, my maid recalled on her return from her dwelling that Lady Barbara had written to you boasting of her victory. I am also convinced she did not write to you of the horrendous ordeal she put my maid Molly through for which I executed my utmost revenge in our encounter. Molly returned a broken girl, with savage injuries and recalled one fight where Lady Barbara branded her with a hot iron after teaming up with her own servant to vanquish her.

On hearing of these deeds I wrote to lady Barbara and challenged her to meet me in Dorset, incognito at the Dog and Duck (I hear you are acquainted with it) to settle once and for all our dispute disguised as two local catfighting slattern wenches and indeed she did accept. It seems that whispers ran free as to our true origin but rest assured my identity was not revealed, although much else of me was.

I hereby make my account of the events in all their detail so you are as witness to what you should expect if you dare come to meet me. You have been both informed and warned Countess.

The mood in the dog was playful, the word had been passed wide and far that two attractive female fighters from the North had agreed to meet here to settle an old dispute and once word had reached of the attraction of the combatants a significant prize fund had been established with the winner to take all. There was no view left and the air was hot and sticky, ale was flowing and wenches were plying a fair trade, catfights broke out regularly such was the heightened atmosphere but when the side doors opened and in stepped myself and Babs the room seemed to explode with excitement and whispers.

Dressed in our riding breeches, riding boots and silk shirts we entered the room with our maids by our sides and our riding crops in our hands.

I broke the silence first, beckoning Molly to help me remove my dress as I intended to fight this slut with no garments impeding my attacks. As I stood staring at Lady B the crowd roared their approval my chest swelling with pride and desire to fight as I was exposed to the cheering crowd, now wearing nothing but my boots and breeches. Lady B spat out her mocking taunts as taken aback she realised the popularity of my move and beckoned her maid to follow suit. As she stepped out of her dress I called her a “dirty slattern” again the crowd roared, Lady B removed her corset to show off her ample bosom and without warning I struck with my crop tearing across her chest again and again, following up with a wicked repost to her face and first blood was mine.

She responded in kind and the two of us were whipping in a frenzy, neither getting close enough to grab the other, wincing with every painful blow our bodies covered in red streaks until with a savage glare lady B caught hold of my crop and we were thrust together, my hands immediately in her hair, hers in mine. I felt my feet leave the ground once or twice she pulled me so hard, clumps of hair falling from our scalps in searing pain, cries of “fuck you whore”..”you dirty fucking tramp” filling the air as we both took part in a common war of words until slowly I felt her strength push me down, my head pinned to the floor by my hair and her fist slamming my sides and my face with abundance. I thrust my fist up hard, aiming for her crotch and it was a wise move as she was about to smash a bottle over my face, given to her by her maid. The scream was blocked by the cheers as she slumped to her knees and I ripped at her head and slammed her face to the floor repeatedly, lifting her head up and slamming it down in the dirt, her face mixed with blood, sweat and dirt.

She is though a veritable dirty bitch and even as I smashed my fist in her face, her hand reached forwards and grabbed my breast and twisted with such force I feared it would be damaged forever. My nipples were in her nails and I screamed but not to be outdone the favour was returned and we locked together on the floor, sweating, mauling and clawing at each others bosom till neither could take any more and we both changed to all out blow by blow punches until our faces were swollen and bruised.

I was though countess not to be beaten, I am sure you will delight in the next move, a savage coup d’etat and my left boot swung round catching her square on the jaw and sending her sprawling. Stomp after stomp then followed as she covered up on the floor, my heels digging in to her ribs CRACK…I heard her scream and knew she was mine. Dropping onto her with my knees, landing hard on her ribs she screamed again but I mercilessly punished her chest and face with my swollen fist till she cried out her anguish and I was forced by the event organiser to stop my onslaught.

Bruised and battered but victorious I was treated to a rousing chorus chanting my name and I was led from the building by my maid to pass into the night leaving Lady B to the mercy of the crowd. I shall return soon for a challenge has been issued by a local wench and I intend to teach her the same lesson as I do you one day Countess.

Izzy was in a mess as she finished reading the letter, she so wanted to feel the same sensation as her ancestor and at that precise moment a little blue box popped up on her messenger, it was Penelope and it simply said “fuck you bitch, you wanna fight let’s go!” Izzy was delighted and much to Penelopes surprise she sent a simple message back “come on then you fucking slut, get your ass to the park right now”… “You got it tramp” came the reply and Izzy jumped up put on her pumps and ehaded off to the park dressed in her jeans and tight tank top.