Hello old friend,

Becky was my first arranged match, but not my first loss. I had talked several of my girlfriends into wrestling before we were married. I lost sort'a fun matches to Lisa, Joyce, and Libby. I won against Pam and Darlene.

I told you several times about my second arranged match. Beth, remember – Midwest brunette, 36, 5-6, 125 lbs., muscular, well practiced, and very experienced – the one Otter found through her ad in a magazine? It was the one where I was suckered into a 10-count pins-only, no time limit catfight. That sadistic bitch put me through about an hour of nothing but pain and humiliation. The woman gave me my first “taste” of the smotherdown facesit – several times. She could have pinned me anytime after the first three minutes but refused to do so. It also was my first match filmed in 8mm. I don't remember much of anything after about 20 minutes. Otter should have pulled me out of there. Men! That's all I'm going to say about Beth. I only use those rules now when it's personal and the risk is worth the reward.

After the matches with Becky and Beth, we transferred to another base. Enlisted men didn't make much money and base housing was full. While we waited, we lived in a trailer park for a few months. It was nice as trailer parks go, with a swimming pool and small, lightly padded workout/party room. By this time, my breasts were getting larger – from an AA to an A. Woo Hoo! (LOL) Otter claimed his “love” made them grow. Men can be so silly about these things.

Meanwhile, Otter was “training” me to wrestle and fight. We sparred and watched a lot of TV wrestling shows. I also began lifting light freeweights and taking gymnastics classes at the base gym. My muscles were showing signs of definition – especially my thighs and calves. Wow! I had curves! (Giggle) But, I still weighed less than 100 pounds.

About a week after we moved into base housing, Otter announced that I was going to wrestle a woman from the trailer court in the workout room. The rules were one fall, submission only. I was still 17 years old. Otter bought a leopard print leotard for me to wear. After losing so badly against Becky and Beth, I was nervous about it. What I wanted was an opponent more my size, and age, and stuff.

My opponent was Toni, the park manager. Her husband, Terry, was retired military. She was Irish, around 40, about 5-3 and 140-150 lbs., with decent muscle tone. Toni had short permed dark red hair, broad shoulders, thick legs, and a pooch belly. She was lightly tanned, with millions of freckles, and was several cup sizes larger than me. The older woman was wearing a flimsy green bikini.

The redhead was fired up and eager to get at me. I was intimidated and she knew it. The men asked if we were ready. Terry said, “Go!” Toni charged me. I backpedaled, grabbed her wrists, sidestepped, and slung her past me. The woman didn't stumble, but turned back on me. I dodged the bitch, but couldn't avoid the third rush. We stood up to each other for a few moments – the redhead trying to get past my guard and me trying to keep her away. The woman drove me back, slipped past my guard, and pushed me to the floor. Toni landed on top, squashing me. I was gasping for air, but able to push her away with my legs. We got to our feet.

The older woman came right back at me with no thought to defense. I moved to meet her. Using my height advantage, I secured the bitch in a right side headlock. Her right hand pulled at my arm. The redhead put her shoulder against my back, wrapped her left arm around my waist, and tripped me. We fell on the floor and jockeyed for position. I kept my headlock and kept trying to prevent my rival from snaring me with her thick legs. Twisting and turning toward my opponent, my arm slipped down around her neck. It wasn't a choke. I was cranking on Toni's neck and jaw, keeping her head against my upper body. The woman's left arm was trapped under me. About a minute later, her right hand hooked under my chin and yanked my head back. The redhead curled her body toward me. I was on my back in moments, head and shoulders flat on the mat. Her neck was still in my grasp. I could see her legs working, her belly threatening to roll on top of my face. My arms were stretched out, her right arm pulling them apart. I released her neck and rolled away.

Toni was on me in an instant. She was angry and calling me everything except my mother's favorite child. On my back and feeling overwhelmed, the redhead was all over me. Her weight was controlling. Her strength was overpowering. I exploded in a flurry of pushing and kicking limbs – escaping long enough to grab a freckled hand and twist it as hard as I could. The older woman cried out. I smiled with hope and delight. It was short lived. Moments later, the bitch pulled my head back, scissored it between her thighs and cranked down hard. OUCH! I was facing her feet. The redhead's muscles crushed and shook my head with incredible force. My arms pushed futilely against her thighs. I was miserable – in pain and whining, trapped between those murderous thighs.

I was badly fatigued when she released me. But, I still had enough fight left to roll out. The slut didn't let up for a moment. She dominated me on the floor. I was being outmuscled and outwrestled. Toni bearhugged me from behind. Desperate to get back in the match, I flailed, bucked, and tried to scramble. She stayed there – riding me, maneuvering me at will – flexing, pumping and crushing. I noticed her top had come off. My ribs began to hurt and my breathing was restricted. The older woman was using me up. I tried to break her grip and failed. Nothing seemed to work. I knew it was just a matter of time, but wasn't about to give up easily.

The end came when Toni threw me onto my back and pounced on me for a reverse pin. The redhead mounted me in a modified pushup position. The bitch covered my face with her hot, sweaty belly, legs stretch out behind her. Her hands were on either side of my pelvis, holding my hips to the floor. I tried to voice my submission several times, but only she and I knew I'd done it. Another woman was smothering me. I feebly pushed against her belly, then wrapped my arms around her. That's where they were when I passed out. Our husbands took a dozen photos of that finish. I vaguely heard the older woman laughing and boasting proudly. She pulled the leotard off my semiconscious body for her trophy.

I made Otter fly me home shortly after the match. Three arranged matches and three painfully one-sided beatings were not what I had in mind when we started this. I needed to reconsider the marriage. Hell, my ego and self-esteem were in the cellar. He called and we talked every day. I still loved him and wanted everything to work out. But, I said it had to be different. He'd have to let me arrange my own matches. He apologized and agreed.