When I lived in a Spanish spoken country, I trained olympic wrestling in a gymnasium. I along with five other girls and six guys used to train together. One of the lads, José, was my boyfriend.
Every week, on Friday, after the training, we promoted no-rules matches, in wich, seriously or for fun, vicious holds like camelclutchs, surfboards and boston crabs were allowed and, of course, applied to humiliate the opponent in female-female, male-male and female-male fights. Then, the audience would make fun of the losers in order to create a competitive environment.
One of the female wrestlers, Fatima, was a Caribbean black girl. She was very uncouth and hated white people. She had already worked two white girls over sadisticaly, having fun in applying an excruciating hold and hear the antagonist begging for mercy several times before releasing it.
I was fascineted by applying the camelclutch: it's a painfull and beautifull hold because, when well performed, makes the loser a kind of human trophy under the control of the winner. It's a humiliating hold that demonstrates unequivocal superiority. I had already beaten two girls applying the camelclutch hold and, for that, people nicknamed me "la chica-dromedario" – or, in English, camelclutchgirl. One of my camelclutched victims was a black girl, Juana, a friend of Fatima's. Juana was friend of mine too. But Fatima only talked to black people, she was very intolerant, because she had lived in Southern United States or other place, I don't know, in a near-apartheid society.
But I have no racial prejudice, this is not an institute in my country and I relate to black, white, red, yellow – or green or blue! – people. All wrestlers in the academy were friends of mine. except Fatima, of course, always rude and unpleasent. Apart from that, she was jealous of me and José, a beautifull black guy.
After I'd beaten Juana, Fatima seemed very angry: if I had beaten a black girl, it would be necessary – in her mind – a revenge! Once upon a Friday, she challenged me: "Hey, you sour milky girl, what about a match tonight? I'll make you swallow your own medicine! I'll break your pride and, pehaps, your spine!"
I'm not a proud girl, it was an unfair remark. Only an intolerant person could tell this to me. I gulped and gave her no answer, unless accepting the challenge, although Fatima really had scared me. But she was smaller than me and I thought I could win. José didn't like the idea of a fight between me and the angry black girl and told me: "Be careful". These words frightened me too, but they didn't make me back down.
At 8 pm all the people were in the gym to watch the match. I and Fatima were wearing body building attire: top, colant shorts, stockings and sneakers. We took off the sneakers and the stockings and agreed to a 4/5-falls submission match. Oh, unfortunatelly, it wasn't properly a match, but a missmatch!
Soon, I noticed that Fatima's muscles touched like iron! And, although she was smaller than me, she was stronger and more, much more skilled! She quickly trapped me in a painful armlock. Slowly, she drove me to my knees, while I was feeling my arm on the verge to be broken and my elbow seeming to be popped. Shamefully, I screamed my submission to her in few seconds, but she, sadisticly, didn't release the hold, tantalizing me during ten minutes. I shouted my submission several times, feeling weaker and weaker, in panic, sweating copiously.
Fatima noticed my weakness and quickly shoved me to the mat and applyied me a painfull figure-four leglock. Powerless, I only groaned and moaned and begged for mercy while Fatima tortured my poor legs, laughing and mocking me. I was feeling like I had never been born when she released the hold and, in a flash and unceremoniously, ripped off my shorts, besides my vain resistance.
– Here's my first trophy, white trash! – said Fatima while I closed my eyes wondering further tortures.
It was a shame to be exposed only in lemmon green tiny panties and top, but the pain was so intense that I wasn't thinking about that: it was necessary to go to the second fall and I knew that I had no chance!
One minute after, we were fighting again, and again Fatima easily ruled over, dominating me in a full nelson hold. I was tantalized for several minutes, and after she releases the hold, I felt like a cut tree on the mat, completely limp. She laid me on the mat, puting my face against the canvas:
– And now, your own medicine, camelclutchgirl!
She lifted by my shoulders and put her thighs under my armpits, and apllied me a cruel camelclutch.
– Your favourite medicine, camelclutchgirl, do you like? Oh, why are you groaning? Does it hurt? – She asked me, laughing, while she put more and more and more pressure, arching my back like a soft rubber and making my nape touch my back! I tried to tell my submission but it was quite impossible, because your hands were violently pulling my chin and I hardly could open my mouth. My throat seemeed to be broken, and I was feeling asphyxiated. I only could groan desperately and grotesquely some words sounding like "I submit", "no more", "for God's sake", "mercy, mercy", "you're killing me", what increased my humiliantion and Fatima's glory.
The camelclutch agony is rather undescribable. The back and the neck seem to be broken under an excruciating pain. The throat closes and it makes gasping. Fatima controlled me in the camelclutch for two long minutes that seemed two years. My ears were buzzing, my hands and forearms tingling and all boby shivering! I was on the verge to pass out when Fatima released the hold, laying me limp on the mat. She brutally ripped off my top and after a minute or two I realized that my punishment would be very, very, very humiliating.
I didn't want to stand up, I want only to rest on the mat and weep, but Fatima grabbed my hair and forced me to stand up. I was very embarassed by the fact that Fatima had exposed me topless to the assistance. I instinctively covered my breasts with my hands and supplicated:
– No more, please, I submit, I'm feeling bad, you're the better woman.
But Fatima was cruel:
– No honey, no, white shit. It's a 4/5-falls match. You can draw! – And she laughed sarcastically.
She released my hair and walk back, calling me to the third fall. I was completeley dazed and, in a second, I have again been layed on the mat, under her control. This time, Fatima enjoyed torturing me in excruciating arm and leg twisting holds, making each arm and each leg look like a pretzel. How many times did I submit and begged for mercy? Meanwhile, the assistance did appreciate me being tortured and my poor toplessed body becoming totally stripped naked when Fatima ripped off my panties and stood over me in a victory pose, hanging up the last cloth trophy.
"Well", I thought, trying to cover my tits and privates with my hands, "it is the end at least, thanks God".
I couldn't face the assistence, so ashamed I was. After two minutes, I had the courage of sitting on the mat, covering the tits and keeping the legs together to hide the pussy, and talked to Fatima:
– Ok, you won, it's over. Congratulations. Give me my clothes, please.
Fatima smiled sardonically:
– Two errors, darling white rubbish, dear pale hen. First: I notify you that your clothes are being confiscated. Second: it's now a 4-falls match and we only fought three times. Let's go to the last one. You can win at least one fall, ho-ho-ho.
– No, it's over. You have humiliated me enough. And I won't fight stark naked!
– Oh, you will! It's summer, you'll feel fine! And I still wanna give you a "receurdo": a naked camelcluth. It will be unforgettable.
And immediately she lifted me up, grabbing my hair, while I cried for piety and tried vainly cover my privates. I would be beaten and humiliated completely nude in front of all colleagues! Fatima easily applyed a double hammerlock and made me walk round the gym to expose me to the assistance, holding my both wrists with one hand while the other squeezed my nape like torturing cramps.
– I'll put you to shame in front of the men, including your beautiful boyfriend!
And she made me walk slowly in front of them; I think that they really appreciated my humiliation, my tits and buttocks swinging in that macabre stroll for the glory of their libido. Several times she stopped squeezing the nape of the neck and spanked hard my buttocks, which turned red. It was the ultimate humiliation: be spanked nude and dominated in front of all, in front my boyfriend! My cheeks were wet by the tears I dropped while my great bottom "cheeks" were manhandled by the cruel spanker, getting reder and swollen. The punishment continued: she ordered me, in front of the audience, to kneel and stand up several times, alternatively, like a remote controlled dummy, just to demonstrate that in fact I had became a toy in her hands.
After fifteen minutes of obedience and shame, she applied me the expected camelclutch, just for me appreciate again my own medicine. Confortably seated on the small of my back, she bent me to the limit only chinlocking me, my arms pending limpy, like a rag doll. I drooled while murmuring incomprehensible clemency words. But my groanings sounded like bird melody to the ears of Fatima, who slowly and painfully used her feet to spread my legs further and further apart, just to expose better my ass and womanhood to everybody. The maneuver increased the pain, I soon was inable just to moan, feeling tingling all over my body. And eventualy I passed out.
When I woke up I was layed on the mat on my back, spread-eagled and exposing my now shaved pussy to all. Fatima showed me a little clear plastic bag full of my pubic hair ("a souvenir, darling!", she said), put her feet on me, pressing hard my bladder. I was on the verge to wee and so I urinated, out of control, on the mat, making a great round stain.
But the humiliation would have a final act: Fatima took a red lipstick and wrote on my belly – BEATEN, cxnt SHAVED –; she faced me down and, after scrubbing my nose on my own wee, like a dog, completed the phrase on my back – HUMILIATED AND – on the buttocks, distribuing the letters by the cheeks – SPAN-KED –, and on the posterior thighs and calves – BY A BLACK GIRL. Then, Fatima, sitting on my thighs and holding my wrists with one hand and making my legs apart with her feet, rammed the lipstick into my ass! I cryed, I shouted desesperately, trying to lock the asshole, but it was in vain. People, finally and mercifully, halted the torture. Thanks God!
After be streched like a marshmellow, I had to go out of the academy in a stretcher, to José's home, near the gym, covered by that degradating words, by shame and two towels and with a lipstick in my ass! José, obviously, was furious, thinking in five penis – apart from his own phallus, of course – getting stiffened at the view of my cute and humiliated body, including my delicate tits, my gorgeous butt and my rose and shaved pussy. And it took hours to shit that damned lipstick!
Humiliating too was to return to the gym on Monday and see Fatima wearing my confiscated outifit. In order to promote a better "recuerdo", she was wearing like a armband my lemmon green panties and exposing like a cameo the little bag full of my pubic – and now public! – hair! Looking at that, my legs trembled and the view of my tormentor, tantalizer, butcher. monster, yes, monster. filled me of fear and the urge of defecate. I had to run desperately to the bathroom and I evacuated a lot. And people mocked while I was seated in panic on the toillet, coming out in a cold sweat.
Oh! one minute after, she walked into the bathroom and while I was sat defecating all my fear she shaved my head bald using an electric razor. She told me that during my last 5 days in that country I would serve her and Juana as a slave. I had to obey, otherwise she would had beaten me again.
Oh, shame! That last week I had to expose my bald head to all my colleagues. It made me remind all the time of my vexer and was a striking mark of humiliation for me. And at every night, I had to be the black girls' shaved white slave, maid and manicurist.
On the last Friday night of my stay, while the group was having fun, I had to clean the floor of the black roommates' apartment. It was very degradating.
On the last Saturday, when I went to the airport to get my flight home, it seemed as if I was leaving Hell. It was the most humiliating page in my life's history. Fortunately, I hope, I'll never see my cruel punisher again.
