I am a newbie wrestler in a small company that, unknown to me, specializes in erotic domination matches featuring men and women... Thinking I'm just going to be doing a small exhibition bout as a bit of cheesecake for the fans, I'm told to get ready for my bout with a "mystery opponent"...
When I get back to the locker room to change, I notice that the outfit laid out for me is less than functional, a simple cut-off tank-top in powder pink and a pair of low-rider butt-hugger bottoms in powder blue with matching boots and fingerless gloves.
I strip down to change, and although I know I'm alone in the locker room, I can't help but feel the prickly feeling of eyes on me as I pull off my street clothes. Naked, I begin to squeeze myself into the outfit they gave me, and am shocked to find that the cut-off tank-top is a lot... smaller than I had anticipated. Even with my arms down a full quarter of the bottom of my GG breasts wobble out from underneath it. The bottoms aren't much better, tiny but stretchy. It takes a good amount of tugging to finally pull them high enough on my hips so they cover everything. They cling tightly, nestling in between my round pert cheeks, and more embarrassing, clearly divide my soft lower lips in a way that makes me feel even more naked than were I wearing nothing at all. Even the seam seems to gently but insistently rub against my clitoris, since tights like this means I can't wear any panties at all. My face flushes catching myself in the mirror. however I want the opportunity they're giving me to showcase myself, so I steel myself and lace up my boots. When finished I seem less a wrestler and more a bimbo girly in soft pastel colors clinging to her curves.
I'm told to wait by the curtains while they get rready for my match. When my music hits, I lift my head and begin to strut through the curtains and down to the ring. My "theme song" is a light girly-pop tune that makes me feel like a teenager walking out to it. Without a bra to hold them, I can feel my heavy full breasts bobble and sway under the tight tank-top, and my face flushes as I hear the cat-calls, wolf-whistles and shouts that would make even a hooker blush. I try to ignore them, concentrating instead on making sure my heart doesn't beat right out of my chest. Stepping into the ring even gives me pause, since bending through the ropes threatens to make my breasts tumble out from under the skimpy top that is barely holding them in as it is. Red-faced I gather my arm around them to hold them in as I bend, seeing and hearing flashbulbs go off as the fans all try to get a few juicy shots of me bent over at the waist. At last I'm in the ring, waving to the crowd, blowing kisses and trying not to show just how embarrassed I actually am.
Then another song hits... an aggressive hard rock tune you'd expect to hear at a bike show or cage-fighting event... and then I see .... HIM....
My opponent is a man!... And not just any man, but a giant hulking mass of muscles that bulge and ripple with every move he makes... He strides to the ring, gesturing to the crowd as I just stand there like a deer caught in headlights. He wears only a simple pair of shiny black tights and matching pads and boots, his massive body glictening with oil and pulsating with power and animalistic ferocity. His eyes are locked on mine ina hungry way that makes my heart thud even harder in my ears. He leaps up to the ring in one jump and then bounds over the ropes, all without ever taking his eyes off me, roaming over my body like a lion looks over a fresh kill. It's all I can do to keep my legs from shaking. I had expected maybe a sexy girl match or something fun, not this... this powerhouse.
Then the speakers sound off with the promoters voice
"Ok fans, up next is what we here at EDW call a Climax Match!... No time limit, no discqualifications and no count outs... anything goes here tonight, folks, but this match can only be won by forcing your opponent to climax... and for you neanderthals out there that mean cum... until he.... or she *laughter* gives up. I'm hoping for a spirited match here tonight, between our own Powerhouse, and newcomer PowerPuff!"
The audience laughs at my name... NOT the one I told him to use, but at that moment all I could think of was the massive 6'2" man glowering at me from the other corner. A Climax Match??? What in the world....? Adrenaline rushes through me, and I feel an odd heat well up in my lower belly and a deep tingle settle into my stiffening nipples. Even my breasts seem to begin to ache slightly, that subtle yet potent throb that I find hard to ignore...
Without warning the bell sounds and the absolute brick of a man before me charges...
What should happen next? Should I be able to hold my own for a bit, using my smaller size and speed to keep this monster away from me? SHould I be caught so off-guard that he is able to catch me and begin his assault?
Let me know how you'd want to see me dominated, humiliated and beaten down ... I'm your busty bimbo plaything... ;)
