Hey, this is a story of mine. I did it in german before, thanks to Thomas for the translation.
Many years ago, in my youth, I started competing with other women and continued to do so for fun and ambition to explore my limits. In the beginning I only did it with women I knew, but over the years I was more and more attracted by the need to adapt to new situations and so I started to fight against women who were completely unknown to me and where I had no idea how they fought. This always had some surprises in store for me, but with time, this kind of fighting made me very self-confident and my fighting style became much harder. With this self-confidence I found myself in a small arena on my Asian trip. A circle of about 10 meters in diameter, covered with mats and surrounded by a lovingly decorated square with stone water buckets at the corners. These four buckets were about 50 cm high and served the fighters for refreshment.
Opposite me stood a Japanese woman named Minako, but the spectators, about 20 of whom were present and consisted only of other women, called her Joõ, which means queen. I didn't give much thought to such names and instead preferred to look at the task in front of me. She was 30 years old and thus 10 years younger than me, but our stature was very similar. We were both blessed with a slightly larger backside and as far as breasts were concerned, we were both well endowed. My D was in good shape despite my age thanks to good care, which could also be said about my opponent's G. All in all we were the same size, but we differed in style. While I liked to show off my long blonde hair, which almost reached my knees, Minako was unimpressed by my powerful dut, which only allowed me to make a vague estimate of whether she would outdo my hair in length. Since her black Asian hair was probably much thicker than mine, I could not come to a clear judgement. So it was clear to me that I wanted to get my hands on this hair and if it was longer than mine, I would drag her through the arena with it, at least that's how I imagined it in my head. Only dressed in a thong, we went to the middle of the ring and looked grimly and deeply into each other's eyes, if a woman in the audience would announce the rules in English. On the wall hung a digital timer with a scoreboard for guest and home fighters, which completely destroyed the more traditional touch of the room. This was set to 45 minutes. The woman left the rules: the fight lasts the whole time. Points are awarded for each task, pins, if practiced, only score a point after counting to 20. Everything is allowed except attacks between the legs and punches to the face and breasts. After we both agreed to the rules, we lined up and the fight started under the cheers of the spectators, hardly any of whom were on my side.
While I expected that we would first circle each other tactically, and would open the fight carefully, Minako took a very high risk, which was unfortunately rewarded to mine. She jumped forward and before I could react, the fast Asian girl sank her knee into my stomach and squeezed all the air out of my lungs, and I instantly collapsed completely and fell to my knees. "Shit", I thought to myself as I struggled for air and the pain went through my whole body. Another kick hit my chest and again I could not breathe. Overwhelmed by the pain I held my arms in front of the point of impact so as not to take another hit while I was kneeling and curled up, as the pain was unbearable otherwise. I was hit hard twice completely unprepared and the fight had been less than a minute old. I had got off to a bad start and hoped that this mistake in the beginning would not cost me the whole fight. Only slowly I could breathe again and it was clear that my opponent would not give me time to recover for a long time. Minako didn't waste any time either and took advantage of my situation very cleverly. She grabbed my long mane and skilfully twisted it into a ponytail and rolled it around her hand several times until it pressed directly against the back of my head, triggering a tight pull against my scalp. My head was now under her full control and despite my pain and heavy breathing she pulled me through the ring. I struggled to follow her lead on all fours, but she led me like a circus horse through the arena and presented me and my weakness to the others present, who laughed and roared mockingly. She had not yet won a point and was already humiliating me. I tried twice to catch her legs with my hands to make her stumble, but this was thwarted each time by her kicking my chest, so I gave up this attempt to avoid further pain. I felt humiliated and offended. So was so dominant and her actions were well thought out. Once more she stopped and I took advantage of the short break to catch my breath. She knelt next to me while she pressed my head into the mat by my hair and seemed to pose with me. I couldn't see it, but the reaction of the audience made me think so. Just as I was contemplating this position for a counter-attack, she pulled me backwards by my hair and my lower back hit her thigh hard. She had set one leg behind me and hung me over it, her hand still mercilessly buried in my hair. I cried out in pain. My whole body ached and I couldn't stand anything else. Her free hand on my knee she pushed me further and further into my hollow back while I groaned and endured the pain without knowing what to do against her. Then it hit.
Her fist hit my lower abdomen unprepared and with force. I cried out loud and could watch the air being pushed out of my body. My reflex to curl myself up was stopped by her. She pulled my head back hard and pressed on my knee so that I could not relieve the pain. She briefly lifted the ball of her foot, wedged my long hair under it and then let go. Now she had both hands free, so that she could manage my ordeal even better. She put her hand on my chin, squeezed me hard once more and hit my completely defenseless body once more. This time I could not scream anymore. The air stayed away from me at once. This beast had aimed at my solar plexus and landed a direct hit. I was stunned. I thought I was going to choke for a moment and hit my hand somewhere on her body with my last strength while the "Stop!" I was about to say was heard by her because of the lack of air.
Immediately she let go of me, rolled me over her knee and I rolled much hard on the floor and bent over on top of it in pain. In the corner of my eye I saw the point for my opponent being noted on the board and Minako arrogantly posed and celebrated this point. While I was still curled up on the floor and staring at the clock. Almost 10 minutes had passed and I still had a minute to get ready for the next point. I doubted if that would be enough, since my body had already taken as much in the first round as it usually takes in a whole fight. At this point of the fight I doubted if the remaining 35 minutes of the fight would be an advantage for me or rather indicate the length of my further agony and I should be less than grateful for every minute less. To the astonishment of everyone, myself included, I stood upright again at the end of the minute's break, but you could see my lesion. I had a red spot on my belly from her knee hits and my hair hung somewhat unsorted over my face. I stood upright in front of her. I was in pain and had already been deprived of most of my strength, but I was standing and with me a bit of what was left of my pride. But I did not stand very long.
Immediately after the break it was clear to everyone that I could not defend myself very well. I was slow and always reacted very late and powerless, while my opponent couldn't have been any fitter. After some timid gimmicks she caught my arms and my weak legs brought me to my knees, from where I was an easy victim against a very mobile opponent. Despite my resistance, she had quickly grabbed my hair in the back and regained control of my head. This time she had to use this position to press my face between her large breasts. I tried to turn my head by skilfully twisting and winding my head, but she always managed to cover my mouth and nose in such a way that I was sucked into her body and denied the fresh air supply my body so desperately needed. I thought I had found an opportunity for me and I hit her chest sideways with all the strength I had left. It seemed to stop Minako for a moment but the effect was not strong enough. Worse, she hit me in my side and it had a massive effect. I was paralyzed and my torturer took further precautions to break my will further and keep my resistance to a minimum. She tore me to the ground, put her knees next to my arms and while they lowered her body onto my stomach, she clamped my arms with her thighs to my body. My arms were out of play and my helplessness nibbled mercilessly at my pride and mine at my will to defeat this woman. Knowing that she could break my will, the queen went over to show me my inferiority. She began to press her Gs on my Ds, which were inferior to the sheer masses and unfortunately also to the tautness of the younger ones. While she was leaning on my breasts, which were pressed in all directions, she whispered softly into my ear that she was superior and will now show me in which points she was superior to me.
I didn't want to accept it, but deep inside there was a little thought that thought this very possibility of truth was probable. If she would succeed in feeding this thought. Would I face the defeat of my life on that day. But it was not yet that far. After she had crushed my breasts and thus planted the sat of pain into them, she lifted her breasts and let them fall on mine. With a muffled groan I tried to counteract the pain and compensate the compression of my lungs, but with each impact I struggled more. And she never tired of making me suffer. Slowly numbed by the pain she went on to the final attack. She held my head in position and slapped her big breasts around my ears. I tried to turn away, but she slapped me very effectively with her breasts until she finally saw the moment to give me the leftovers and snatch this point away from me. One last time she lowered her breasts onto my face and I had no chance. Inevitably I sucked myself in while breathing in. I heard the audience counting and I was worried that a possible surrender on my part would not be noticed by my trapped arms. I tried to hold out for a long time, but the air ran out too quickly. I had taken too much to cope well with a loss of oxygen. The audience had only counted me down to 3 when my hand tried to signal my task, while I became more and more dazed and probably feared fainting at any moment. My opponent hadn't noticed, but the woman who had read the rules at the beginning screamed that I had given up, and Minako released my face and I inhaled a deep breath, as if I had just come back from an apnea world record attempt. My face must have been bright red, just like my breasts, which, besides the cheers for Minako's second point, a couple of women in the audience looked at me with concern. It was embarrassing to take such a beating. I had won many hard fights, but with Minako everything seemed different. It had been 25 minutes of fighting and I had not yet been able to deliver a single serious action against this woman, while she had completely dominated me by all rules of art. I tried to come up with a plan of action the minute I had a break, but I didn't get very far. My recovery would have taken more time and I didn't even manage to get up on my feet for the third round and started round on your knees.
To my surprise, my opponent did the same. That was probably the respect that the Japanese have for their opponents. However, at that moment I felt it as a kind of mercy, which should not diminish my respect for this gesture. Neither of us were very mobile on our knees, and I was able to keep up with her for a short time and keep up with her for the upper hand whether she would take me to the mat again. She did it again this time by getting behind me and pushing her arm under my Axel and pressing her hand into my neck. Normally I could have escaped this grip, but due to my lack of strength and the condition of my upper body, I couldn't this time. She pushed me flat on the floor and my reaction to pull my legs up to get to my knees was again stopped by a hard hit to my body. She seemed to use this remedy at will, knowing full well that I suffered with each impact and was left paralyzed for a short time. I was no longer an opponent. I was a victim and she played with me at will, which was not good for my pride. I had never experienced what happened then. It was unconventional but effective.
She let go of my neck, turned around and also sat down the back of my head. My arms rowed beside my body while much of her body weight rested on my head and neck. She caught one of my legs at the ankle and pulled it towards her, playfully pushing me into the hollow back and making me moan again to fight my pain. It was humiliating. It was clear to me that this was probably her way of trying to make me realize that her bottom was better, but it went too far and made me angry. However, my anger did not help me in this situation. The more she pulled my leg towards her, the more body weight was on my neck and head. I groaned and puffed with rage and pain, but without success. Slowly, a massive pressure on my head started to build up and I was once again helplessly trapped, with no chance of being rescued by my own strength. My will let me endure what should have been finished long ago. I gave a picture of misery and with every second that my pride forbade me to give up, my torturer enjoyed the sweet taste of dominance and the certainty that the proud blonde was going to pieces without me being able to do anything about it. Just before the pain became unbearable and I was about to let my tears run wild with rage, I gave up and handed over the third point to the merciless adversary, who let go of me and let herself be celebrated for another demonstration of power. Slowly I lifted my tortured body while thirty seconds of the break had already passed again. The clock still showed a little more than 10 minutes and I would be glad if I had survived this, because at this point I was finished. I was defeated, devastatingly beaten and only the rest of my pride and vanity gave me the impression that I could still do something against my opponent in the last round.
When I heard the signal for the last dance with Minako, I had come no further than leaning wobbly on my arms. My long hair did me a great service, as it hung dishevelled over my face and hid my empty gaze from the other women. This time there was no respect left over. Minako grabbed me by the hair and dragged me all over the mat. My scalp was burning like fire and I was just pretending to try to get solid ground under my feet to not make a too pathetic picture. I think you need a cool down, you are a little pale. With these words Minako ushered in the final phase of my martyrdom. A cooling off would not be enough, I thought to myself, but Minako was not out to do me any good either.
We had arrived at the water bucket and it was clear what she wanted there. She grabbed me by the back of the head and dipped me into the water. The coolness of the water was a bit soothing, but as well as between her mighty breasts, I ran out of air very quickly and she seemed to feel very well how long she could delay this moment. Shortly before I could no longer, I was torn out of the water. My hair over my face and I coughed violently and spat water. This ordeal was repeated several times from then on and I could only watch as she drained my last strength from my body. Over and over again it immersed me. I was no longer in the position to resist. My arms were as heavy as lead and completely powerless, the queen threw me to the ground after what felt like an eternity, but not without telling me what the final act would be. She wanted to crumble my pride into small pieces and through my wet strands I watched as she opened her bun and those long black hairs were rolled out before me like black gold. They fell on the floor next to me and in the end there was a little more than a meter and a half of black hair on the floor next to me. The tips were perfect. No split ends and incredibly strong. She had probably realized that I was very proud of my long mane, but against hers, it was just too ridiculous. I wanted to grab it, pull it and hang it up, but I couldn't do more than push my arm a little in that direction.
Another 2 minutes on the clock and Minako decided to end my tragedy. She stood over me, turned me over on my stomach and sat on my back. Then she took her hair in her hand and twisted it together like a rope. She put it around my neck three times and found herself tightening the noose with her hand left and right. I was shocked and immediately felt how difficult it was for me to breathe. I reached for the rope of black hair, but I couldn't do anything against her.
Under the pressure of this my golden strands were pressed against my neck. In this situation tears ran down my cheeks and my pride was broken. All my pride, my body, my blonde hair, which had turned the heads of so many men and which always looked good in spite of the more violent attacks, were twisted and knotted under the pressure of the noose and its movement, while I struggled more and more for air. My tears seemed to give my opponent an incredible satisfaction while my self-confidence broke down into every single part. I whimpered for mercy and that it would finally stop, but Minako wouldn't let me go until the last second of the fight was over and so I was doomed to endure my humiliation for almost a minute and a half before she let go of me and I was left in the ring crying and sobbing. What I did not notice was that there was no cheering. No flush of victory. Minako turned around and left. The other women took care of me, but at that moment I was the loneliest person in the world. Among the women was a doctor who took care of me very kindly and later told me what happened, because at first I did not remember many parts of my ordeal. It turned out that all those present had fought Minako unsuccessfully and she had dominated every single one of them, but none of them had ever treated her as badly as me, which was rather a small comfort to me. However, when I arrived home from Japan, I realized that this woman had taught me a lesson. My pride should not stand in my way. I had to get back on the mat, even though my self-image had suffered. It had always been a hobby for me, but now I wanted to become better. Work harder for it and maybe one day get the chance for revenge. I was weak and probably also arrogant, but this would not happen to me again.
