The St Ethelfrida's Wrestling Match

The St Ethelfrida's Wrestling Match The St Ethelfrida's Wrestling Match

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Genre: Humor

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Status: In Progress

Genre: Humor

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Summary

The girls meet their match

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Summary

The girls meet their match

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Submitted: May 02, 2020

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Content

Submitted: May 02, 2020

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"Bug-a-me!”

 

It was a favourite expression of Georgia O'Hara, class tomboy, and captain of the school wrestling team, as the blast of freezing cold water hit her.  She had learnt the phrase from Old McDonald, school gardener, who used it whenever he saw her going into his allotment for a pea. 

 

He had complained about it to the Rector of St Ethelfrida's Academy finishing school for the daughters of gentlefolk, otherwise known to all as St Freddie's.

 

"She sits among the cabbages and peas!" he had said, but Dr Aloysius Golightly, the Rector, had simply replied that it would help them grow big and strong.

 

"Bug-a-me," repeated Georgie, "don't you think we could have a hot shower after wrestling practice Miss Pettigrew?"

 

Miss Pettigrew, the games mistress, scowled. 

 

"Certainly not.  St Ethelfrida's girls aren't weaklings.  You need to be tough.  Anyway cold water gets the mud off best."

 

Georgie had to admit she was right.  The cold water did tone her skin up nicely.  Her skin was getting quite bronzed with taking all over sun baths on the school roof.  Georgie liked to be out in the open air and the altogether.  She got several 'Bug-a-me's' from McDonald when he saw her.  But Miss Pettigrew  would appreciate the all over tan.  She struck her favourite contrapostto pose to impress The Pet (as Miss Pettigrew was affectionately called.).

 

"Spray me with the hose again Sir," she called out,  she would show The Pet she was no wimp.

 

Dr Golightly turned the water up to full blast and pointed it at Georgie.  It had been unfortunate that the girls showers were out of commission and the only option was to hose them down in the quad with the power hose.  Still it did wonders for their busties.  Mr Golightly was a great believer in developing the girls' busties and cold water seemed to firm them up nicely.  There was no hurry to repair the girls' showers then.

 

"Me too Sir," Cynthia McCorkerdale, madcap of the remove, called out.  Her busties were covered in mud after the wrestling practice, and in view of their prodigious size were in need of firming up. "Well aimed Sir," called out Cynthia as the mud simply flew off her busties, "better hose down Lettice while your aim is so good."

 

"I think perhaps I'm clean now," whinged Lettice Leaf, class wimp and only tolerated on the wrestling team on account of her father being the Lord Leaf of that Ilk and owning half of Clackmannanshire or some such rot.  Lettice went flying backwards over the cobbled stones of the quad as Dr Golightly turned the power of the hose to maximum and aimed it directly at her.  Not for the first time Lettice wished her father was not the Lord Leaf of that Ilk and did not insist on her being on every school team.

 

"I say Miss," said Cynthia, "do we have to have Lettice on the team for the wrestling match against St Bertie's?  She is a bit of a liability."

 

St Bertie's was St Ethelberta's College for Superior Girls and the arch rivals of St Ethelfrida's.

 

"Lord Leaf has specifically requested it," said Dr Golightly, "Goodness knows I want to hammer the Sassenachs as much as you, but what Lord Leaf says goes.  He is head of the board of governors."

 

From which you will gather that the reviled St Bertie's, though a mere twenty miles away, lay south of the Bateable Lands within the precincts of the Auld Enemy.

 

"I still don't understand," whinged Lettice, picking herself up of the cobble stones, "why we have to practice in the mud in our birthday suits."

 

"Because it's Graeco-Roman wrestling," explained The Pet, patiently, "and as Dr Golightly," she simpered slightly at the mention of the name, "has told you time and again, the Ancient Greeks wrestled in the altogether... And it was very muddy in Ancient Athens," she added less convincingly.

 

"...but why do we have to do this Ancient wrestling.  What's wrong with Cumberland and Westmorland style like we always used to do?"

 

Dr Golightly blanched at the thought.

 

"Cumberland and Westmorland is in England!" he gasped, "we couldn't do English wrestling!"

 

"And we couldn't wear those awful costumes," said Georgie, horrified at showing of her contrapostto in long johns and gym knickers.

 

"But couldn't we just do Border Backhold style?"

 

"Artemesia Snodgrass," Miss Pettigrew scowled at the mention of the twenty stone moustachioed gym mistress of St Bertie's, "claimed it was too Scottish.  What rot!  So Dr Golightly suggested Graeco-Roman as a compromise."

 

"Nothing to do with watching girls wrestling naked in the mud then?" said Cynthia.

 

"Certainly not?  Artemesia Snodgrass insists the girls wear gym knickers and vests in the usual way."

 

"Oh!  That's a pity," said Cynthia, somewhat enigmatically.

 

**********

 

At the midnight feast in the dorm that night the girls were practising their holds.

 

"That's right...  Get her by the busties and squeeze hard," encouraged Cynthia.

 

"Got her!" yelled Georgie, grasping the aforementioned appurtenances of Euphemia Quaich, fourth member of the team.  Euphemia was six foot two in her stocking feet, not that she was wearing stockings, or indeed anything, and a part-time body builder but she had unfortunately built up her busties to a size that her made he rather vulnerable to the reverse busty-hold. 

 

"Girls, girls!" exclaimed The Pet doing her nightly round of the dorms, "what are you doing!  Georgie you must apply the double nipple tweak when you have her pinned down."

 

The vigorous application of the double tweak soon had Euphemia crying for mercy.

 

"Where is Lettice?" Demanded The Pet, "she needs to practice more than anything."

 

"We suspended her," explained Cynthia, "she's a liability."

 

"What!  From the team."

 

"Of course not!  Upside down from the ceiling."

 

"We'll get her down.  Her father, The Lord Leaf of that Ilk has cancelled his fact finding mission with the House of Lords studying the tourist industry in The Bahamas and is coming to watch the match.  Not only has Lettice to be in the team.  You have to make sure she wins.

 

***********

 

 

"Bug-a-me!" said Georgie.  And she had every right to.  She looked across the road, where through the pouring rain, she could see where the girls of St Ethelberta's were dismounting from their coach.  The posh English St Ethelberta's girls always arrived in a posh luxury English coach along with their posh English schoolchums come to cheer them on. They were led by their captain.  And she was huge.  Even Euphemia Quaich looked small in comparison.

 

"Right," said Cynthia, "here's the plan..."  The girls in the team gathered round.  "...we sacrifice Lettice."

 

"We what!" shrieked Lettice, "What do you mean by sacrifice!"

 

"Well look at it this way.  Girl Mountain over there is going to win anyway and, let's face it, Lettice is going to lose anyway.  So the solution is obvious..."

 

She looked round.  Lettice was already a hundred yards away and running as fast as her legs could carry her.

 

"So," continued Cynthia, "that's got rid of Lettice.  Now we can call that match a tie!"

 

She spoke however too soon as Miss Pettigrew reappeared hauling the reluctant Lettice by the ear.

 

"Come on girls," she said, "spirits up.  how about a rousing chorus of the school song!"

 

And the girls rang forth with the immortal verses penned by the immortal bard.  The greatest Scots poet of all times.

 

'When Ethelfrida strode this land

A race of warriors we

The Saxon, Norman, Dane and Pict

Were chased beyond the sea.

 

But of all those dreadful enemies

Kept from our native coast

There's not a single doubt in our minds

We hate the English most!'

 

"Immortal bard he might be, but I'm not quite sure Mr McGonagall always got his scansion quite right," said Cynthia.

 

"What do you mean girl," said Miss Pettigrew.

 

"Nothing Miss Pettigrew, but perhaps Lettice could be our mascot?  Perhaps The Leaf of that Ilk would be happy with that."

 

"The Leaf of that Ilk, may I remind you child, is Lord of the Middle March, he is not going to be satisfied with Lettice being a mascot.  Anyway he has promised a large donation to the school and Aloysius, I mean..." she blushed slightly, "...I mean Dr Golightly...  has hinted that he will use it to put in hot water showers."

 

"Indoors?" asked Cynthia hopefully.

 

"Certainly not.  He has suggested just outside his office."

 

"You mean where he is having the large picture window put in."

 

"Exactly.  Now come on girls.  Who's into the fray first?  The ground is already getting rather muddy in all this rain."

 

"Who cares about all this rain," said Cynthia, her thin airtex vest soaked through so that the contour of her prodigious busties were clearly outlined.

 

"I do," said Georgie, "the elastic on my knickers has expanded and if they get any wetter they won't stay up."

 

"You're always complaining," said Cynthia, looking towards the girls of St Berties.  They all had waterproof track suits and were receiving a last minute pep talk from Artemesia Snodgrass. 

 

"Looks like they're putting in Betsy Bull, first up."

 

Betsy Bull, the huge team captain removed her track suit.  Her pristine white silk tee shirt was emblazoned with the red rose of England and her shorts bore the red cross of St George.

 

"Bug-a-me," said Georgie, pulling up her blue serge gym knickers, which had slipped down to mid-thigh, "I think you're on Lettice."

 

The screaming Lettice was pushed into the wrestling ring which was rapidly descending into a mud bath.  The spectators cheered.

 

"Come on," said Cynthia, "let's take refuge in the tea tent.  Can't bear to see St Berties winning a bout."

 

*************

 

The girls downed large mugs of hot Bovril in the tea tent.

 

"I say," said Cynthia, "the screaming seems to have stopped."

 

"Bug-a-me, you're right," said Georgie, "better go and see what's happened."

 

In the wrestling area a small figure was being dragged round and round in the squelchy ground, she was covered in mud from head to foot.  From time to time a large girl still dressed in pristine white shirt emblazoned with a red rose and pristine white shorts emblazoned with the cross of St George picked the mud coated figure up and threw it back in the mud again.

 

"I think Lettice is losing," said Cynthia.

 

"I think she's lost," said Georgie, pointing out the brown slimy figure of Lettice running off into the distance as the cries of "Berties, Berties, Berties, , ra, ra, ra..." rang round the field.  The watching parents applauded politely as the next bout was announced.

 

"In the blue and white corner," announced Dr Golightly, "Euphemia Quaich of St Ethelfrida's, weighing in at seventeen stone, six pounds.  And in the red and white corner Cassandra Fox-Knighly of St Ethelberta's at seventeen stone, eight pounds."

 

It was a hard fought match: arm drag was matched by headlock, half Nelson was bettered by full Nelson, bite on the left ear was matched by a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.  The watching parents roared their approval until Euphemia Quaich with a cry of "Alba gu bràth" and a double back flip reverse suplex body slam pinned Cassandra Fox-Knightly to the ground and claimed victory.  The match was tied at one all.

 

"What did she say about Ali Baba?" asked Cynthia.

 

"Bug-a-me if I know," said Georgie, "she comes from Stornoway and funny people come from round there!"

 

"It's up to us now then," said Cynthia.

 

All depended on the result of the final match.  A tag pairs bout.

 

Dr Golightly announced the contestants.

 

"In the blue and white corner we have, weighing in at nine stone two pounds, Cynthia McCorkerdale and at nine stone ten pounds, Georgiana O'Hara."

 

Rapturous cheers and cries of "Freddie's, Freddie's, Freddie's!" rang out.

 

"Hurrah for Phemy!" cried Cynthia, "I say Georgie, we've just got to win now,"

 

"Bug-a-me," said Georgie, "have you seen the size of them."

 

"And in the red and white corner," announced Dr Golightly, "weighing in at thirteen stone five pounds Lavinia Plugg, and at fifteen stone exactly Clarinda Uggly."

 

"Forky Nell!" exclaimed Georgie, employing another expletive picked up from old McDonald, "do we run now or wait till we have a clear escape route."

 

"Nil Desperatedan," said Cynthia, "remember the secret weapon Georgie, "we've been practising the nipple tweak all week."

 

"Bug-a-me," said Georgie, "so we have."

 

"Your turn first," said Cynthia,

 

Lavinia Plugg stood waiting resplendent in her immaculate white strip, the Red Cross of St George like a red rag to Georgie's bull.  Georgie rushed forward and the next thing she knew she was flying ten feet in the air and had land face first in the mud.  She struggled to her feet.  Lavinia Plugg was standing there, hands on hips, still immaculate and laughing.  Georgie rushed at her again and again found herself flying through the air and landing in the mud with a loud splat.  The crows cheered.  The parents politely applauded as she crawled out of the ring to be replaced by a rather nervous looking Cynthia, Lavinia Plugg swaggered off.  Georgie struggled to her feet to see Clarinda Uggley hurling Cynthia ten feet in the air.  It was beginning to look nasty.  Cynthia went flying twice again.  Desperate measures were needed.  Two against one might just do the trick.  Georgie rushed to Cynthia's aid and soon found herself flying again.  When she looked up Lavinia and Clarinda were together, still untouched, still immaculate white.  Georgie and Cynthia were splattered from head to foot in mud.

 

"Back to the fray," said Cynthia.

 

"I can't," said Georgie.

 

"Come on," said Cynthia, "remember the school song.  We can't let the English win."

 

"It's not that," said Georgie.

 

"What is it then?"

 

"I've lost my knickers.  I knew they were too loose."

 

"What's a pair of knickers set against the honour of the school!'

 

"You wouldn't mind fighting on with no knickers."

 

"Of course not."

 

"That's all right then.  Because you've lost yours as well."

 

Cynthia looked down.  There was no sign of her knickers.

 

"Oh well," she said, "York Hunt's covered by the mud, so no worries."

 

It had been a favourite expression of old McDonald when he caught Georgie going into his garden for a pea.  "Bug-a-me.  York Hunt's covered in mud," he had said. 

 

It had become a favourite saying of the girls.  They had no idea who York Hunt was, but thought he must be a dashing sort of a chap.

 

To further appreciative applause the girls hurled themselves back at Lavinia and Clarinda.  Ten seconds later they were picking themselves out of the mud again to see their vests being waved in the air,  they were both in their birthday suits and coated from head to foot in mud.

 

"Run for it?" enquired Georgie.

 

Cynthia nodded, but before she got five yards Georgie found herself grabbed by Lavinia, and before she knew it she was bent over and her bottom was being soundly spanked.  From the nearby sound of slaps and yells she understood that Cynthia was receiving the same treatment.

 

The watching crowd showed their appreciation by counting off the spanks.  By tradition the application of fifty spanks to the posterior constituted victory

 

"Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two..." chanted the crowd

 

Georgie felt her bottom getting redder and redder, while Cynthia felt her face getting redder and redder.  The girls struggled and squirmed but the harder they squirmed the harder their bottoms were spanked.

 

"Nipple tweak, nipple tweak, nipple tweak!" chanted the girls of St Ethelberta's.  With horror Cynthia remembered that victory by this method was celebrated with a double nipple tweak of the vanquished.

 

"Forty-nine, fifty!" chanted the crowd.  Fifty spanks constituted victory.  Cynthia felt her nipples standing out rock hard, as her conqueror grabbed her from behind and pointed her impressive busties at the cheering onlookers.  She felt her nipples grasped firmly between finger and thumb and they were tweaked until they glowed.  From the squeals coming from Georgie it seemed like she was getting an even more impressive tweaking.

 

Cynthia looked round and gasped with surprise.  It wasn't Georgie shrieking because her nipples were being tweaked, it was Lavinia Plugg.

 

Suddenly she shrieked with alarm as a blast of freezing cold water hit her, and she saw standing in front, the Rector, Dr Golightly spraying her with the high pressure hose.  She ducked and the water jet hit Clarinda Uggley full in the face and the English girl fell flat on her back.  Seizing the initiative Cynthia grabbed her, hoisted up her erstwhile pristine blouse and her fingers grabbed the nipples.  She tweaked as she had never tweaked before.  Within thirty seconds Clarinda, begging for mercy, had submitted.

 

Of course Artemesia Snodgrass complained and a stewards enquiry was announced.  The steward, otherwise The Lord Leaf of that Ilk declared that the result should stand,  St Ethelfrida's was declared the winner.

 

Cynthia and Georgie stood on the podium to receive their winners medals to the wild approbation of the crowd.

 

"I say," said Georgie, "wizard wheeze of the Rector wasn't it?"

 

"I should say so," said Cynthia, "slight drawback though."

 

"What's that?" asked Georgie.

 

"That Berties lot ran off with our clothes and I think everyone can see York Hunt."

 

"And yours," said Georgie.


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