Village Games part 1
This is Megan, the local midwife again. When I told you about the battle between the womenfolk of two adjoining hamlets, I thought it would be the last tale I had to tell. It took quite a while before the two 'ladies' got fully over their battle, and equally long before all the village lasses were totally recovered. Life in the two hamlets however improved, as both worked together for the greater good of everyone.
Their lordships had missed all that had happened, coming home to find to find bloodied wives and serving girls. Outwardly they scolded their wives for their behaviour but secretly they regretted not having actually seen it. It had been agreed that not a word would be said, but tongues have a habit of wagging anyway, especially after alcohol.
One of their lordships must have said too much in his club on a trip to London, and then when the other Lord was at the same club some time later he was approached by Lord C to see about setting up something similar. Lord A refused, but being a gentleman he couldn't refuse Lord C's offer to play cards for it and, of course, he lost, and so here I am again, ready to relate further unladylike events; for your greater pleasure I dare say, be you man or woman.
Now Lord C lived some distance away, and so a veritable retinue of women folk, including Ladies A and B made their way, rather laboriously to where Lord C lived. The distance was such that all were to stay at Lord C's house the night before the event.
Their three Lordships were keen on certain aspects of the first fight (notably the shedding of garments), but not the chance that some of the contestants be maimed or even killed. They had heard of the blacksmith's wise words and spent some time talking around the matter so as to arrange an event to their liking, a way to make the womenfolk lose their clothes and violently assault each other – especially those parts usually kept away from the men but, given that their wives (and mistresses) were taking part, they didn't wish for their official and unofficial love lives to be unduly affected. Quite a dilemma.
The combined-hamlet's team arrived safely ahead of nightfall, on a lovely balmy day. As they slept off the fatigue caused by the journey the heavens opened and all woke to find a very different scene. The meadow where events were to take place was virtually under water!
Mid morning was the time chosen for the showdown, which gave the captains of both teams a chance to explain the rules that had been decided on. Quite simply two lines were drawn on the ground, quite some distance apart. Members of each team had simply to try to cross their opposing line to score a point. Obviously the other team would do all they could to avoid this happening. The game was divided into two halves, with a respite in the middle.
Ladies A & B announced that there should be some ultimate prize for winning and proposed that, when they won, their husbands have their way in public with Lady C and her second in command (who was a most comely lass). Lord C could hardly refuse, but announced that given his age and the fact that the second in command's husband was away in the army, two of the younger men in his village would be delighted to ravish two such 'charming' ladies – until they begged them to stop.
The fact that the Ladies were putting their bodies on the line caused quite a stir in the village; enough to cover the sinful nature of the wager. To counter his comments the local priest was sent off to the furthest outpost possible to avoid him interfering in any way!
The meadow was long, but not terribly wide. Bordered on one side by a brook, and on the other by a hawthorn hedge, which would need keeping well away from. It was agreed that contestants couldn't use the brook to get past the other team's defence and, should they fall into it, they had to climb back out level with where they fell in.
Ladies A & B organised their team into attackers and defenders, with a third group who would roam depending on where the action was. Roles would be changed at the break and tactics reviewed if required. A large marquee was set up on the opposite bank of the brook and, given the change in the weather, this would afford protection for the watchers.
The two teams lined up – 25 women in each team, with quite a variety of ages and sizes. Both teams had come up with the idea of attack and defence and so when the signal was given to start a group from each side advanced faster towards the middle of the field.
Logically they could have ignored each other, as their principle function was to cross the scoring line, but the temptation to exchange early blows was greater than any game plan. Clothes were grabbed hold of, and virtually all of the advance groups fell to the ground. It thus became apparent just how wet the ground was, as falling bodies caused significant splashes of water to mark their grounding. This meant that clothes were soon soaking wet.
Dumping an adversary in puddles of water seemed initially more fun than thumping them (though I dare say various discrete blows were exchanged). Rubbing faces in muddy water seemed the ultimate goal.
Now the team from the combined hamlets was using a third of their members as a flexible force to go where the action warranted. The village team was divided into two which meant that briefly their attackers outnumbered the hamlet's attackers but, when the second third reached the already sodden attackers, it was the village team who were outnumbered and the hamlet girls took advantage to begin divesting the villagers of some soaked garments.
Lady C had to decide what to do and she thus advanced her defenders. Seeing them coming the hamlet did likewise and so all 50 players found themselves in the centre of the meadow in a ripping, dunking free for all.
Unlike the hamlets' battle, the violent element was relatively subdued. It was much more fun pitching players into the wet ground, making them as wet as possible, and pulling at sodden clothing until it ripped. All thoughts of scoring had gone as all 50 women threw each other around. Even when one took up top position on a felled adversary she was nearly always pulled off by other hands.
Hair did occasionally get pulled, but all were sufficiently clothed for the sodden garments to be grabbed and used to manoeuvre the body within. Faces were rubbed in the wet ground from time to time and tempers were sometimes lost but, before any damage could be done, other women generally intervened and battle recommenced with someone else.
This mayhem lasted for several minutes and as time passed, so garments became increasingly damaged, losing their initial strength when wet through. Lady C's second in command was one of the first to have her boobs exposed. She and another exposed-boobed fighter set too pulling each other's nipples, but only fleetingly as they were soon fighting off other attacks.
Quite how long this general melee would have lasted is a moot point, but God was presumably interested in the result, rather than watching 50 sodden maids splashing around. The sky had been darkening for some time, but now a loud clap of thunder rent the air and heavy rain began.
After the second clap of thunder which was preceded, but not by much, by a bright flash of lightning, the Lords and their helpers splashed through the stream and managed to persuade the fighters to call a halt. All were aware of the dangers of lightning in the country and so all quickly moved to shelter beneath the marquee.
The rain poured down and hostilities forgotten, all of the fighters huddled together. The marquee wasn't that big and, as all the males and much of the village were also sheltering there, bodies were tightly packed together. This, in itself, created an explosive situation. The women were still full of the fighting spirit, and also partially denuded in some cases. They were pressed up against other women but also men and from time to time one would claim to have had indiscretions taken with her body and one man in particular crumpled to the floor having had his testicles realigned.
But women also accused other women of having taken liberties and the players who had been mixed up began moving to either side of an imaginary line. This caused much jostling given the lack of space available. Non fighters found themselves pushed out into the rain and so they pushed to get back in. The movements of the mass threatened to collapse the marquee and their Lordships had to intervene to bring about a semblance of calm.
Buckets of water fell from the sky. Lightning snaked across the countryside and thunder deafened everyone. It really did seem like the apocalyptic storm.
The ground was already very wet, and unable to soak up the rain. Puddles soon appeared and grew and the part of the meadow nearest the brook was requisitioned as the brook deserted its usual path.
Tensions were building within the marquee. The teams wanted action but common sense left them under the shelter, but frustrated at the lack of action. The Ladies managed to arrange it so that eight from each team were face to face, their teammates just behind. They were told that they were allowed to target the boobs in front of them, but nothing else, and only briefly before places would be exchanged. They didn't need telling twice!
Some had their boobs covered only by torn clothes that they had gathered around them. Others were still relatively protected. Finding that attacking boobs through clothes was less effective, the clothes themselves became the target of the pent-up frustration. Those boobs that were defenceless were merrily mangled.
Very quickly the Ladies called for a change and rows were reversed, leading to a new round of cloth abusing. Having seen the disadvantage of having non-covered boobs, those from the second row had quickly tried to rearrange what clothes they had to cover their tender chests. Such efforts provided but short-lived protection, but then it was the turn for the third row.
There was no escaping clawing hands, as the rows behind stopped anyone retreating out of range. The only answer was to claw back!
The former first row had mixed itself up, so that when back to the front again they were not up against the same girl, giving new impetus to target fresh boobs.
The Ladies kept ringing the changes, which meant that the clawing was short lived. It didn't take long before no-one had any cloth covering their orbs and realising that confrontational times were limited the screaming harpies could give full range to their imaginations and their savagery. Very reddened boobs were soon in evidence. A break gave them time to hurt a little less before they were being once again mangled by new assailants.
To keep control the Ladies were inventive. Forcing the girls in the front row to put their arms around each other, breast to breast, to form a wall, the girls from the second row were invited to reach around the wall to target each other. One or two stymied the game by pushing their breasts up against the wall, thus rendering it difficult for them to be targeted, but most were more interested in attack than defence and so boobs continued to be abused, but with more difficulty.
The storm hadn't yet gone far enough away for anyone to dare venture out. The boob game had run its course and the danger increased of things getting out of hand. Chance determined the course of events. One woman took a dislike to the fact that her wall-partner was apparently pushing her leg into her crotch. The two erstwhile members of the wall started a 'dance' trying to knee the other in the crotch. Almost instantly the whole wall broke up into dancing couples. Quickly stopped the second row took over, targeting the crotch area through the covering clothes.
The dancing method produced few direct hits, even when it was the third row's turn and the first rows came back determined to do better. This time it was hands that sought out cloth-covered targets trying to induce pain by clawing sensitive parts. Much more contact occurred, probably breaking a taboo rather more than causing real pain. Normally women didn't target such areas.
But target them they now did, with much brio and many obscene cries. Thank goodness no pussies were actually exposed and that all the clawing was softened by layers of material. It was all most unladylike, but it did seem to meet with the approval of all the unladies.
Fortunately the storm had passed, even if the rain had not entirely stopped. Before anyone had managed to rip off clothes to take pudenda in hand, it was possible to stop the entertainment, with a view to restarting the match. Just what effect the interval in the marquee would have waited to be seen.
The other thing to see was the state of the meadow. The brook had tripled in size and spilled out across a fair amount of the grass. Other areas were also covered in puddles. Only close to the hawthorn hedge was dry and no-one was going to risk getting too close to that, especially if they were to lose more clothing!