Light Switch I: The Little Diva
By BOS  cashley216@woh.rr.com 
Seductive panther in ring vs. budding male pro wrestler, with erotic rules    


"Oh my, look at you," said Terri. "All tiny and tight. I'm going to have LOTS
of fun having my way with you, Mighty Mite."

He really wasn't any smaller that her. If she hadn't been wearing heels, he'd
have been taller. And he had a good 30 pounds on her. And it was all muscle -
endlessly and painfully honed over years -- whereas she was all girly-girl,
though with a fitness-girl bicep or two. But Terri knew he was self-conscious
about his size. They were both on the edges of professional wrestling. She had
started as eye candy more than as wrestler, but she had picked up some things
and had stretched her role. He, meanwhile, had been trying to get the biggest
federation to take him seriously despite his size and he, too, had made some
progress, though not as much as he would have liked.

But at hand tonight wasn't professional wrestling. This was real competition,
though of a new and experimental kind. It was the first live, streamed showing
of Light Switch, the new battle-of-the-sexes competition which overtly
combined eroticism and combat. The name derived from the fact that the woman
was supposed to try to turn the guy on in a way that was visibly obvious, only
to then turn him off by the application of pain. If she could do this 10 times
- manipulate him like a light switch -- she would win. The idea of such combat
- which not long earlier would have been unthinkable - gained traction as a
result of social media, wherein woman spoke of such contests with boyfriends
and others, and men fantasized. Urban folklore began to hold that such fights
really happened. Some people were skeptical. Before long, matches started
showing up on youtube. Still, people didn't know quite what to make of them,
even when there were a few witnesses. Eventually, the events became public.
With women becoming bolder and bolder in their physical prowess as a result of
various conditioning programs and sports, and what with regular depictions of
ass-kicking heroines in pop culture, people were becoming more willing to
believe.

Various reasons to compete arose. There were many possible motivations for the
guy, including money and publicity, not to mention sexual motivation.

Under the rules, the guy could win in any conventional way: knockout, pin to a
10 count, submission or - less conventionally but in line with the erotic
motif - by rape - via any orifice. And the faster he won, the more money he
would win. Under that rule, the female won a little moral victory just by
lengthening the match. The woman had no motivation to hurry.

For either fighter, stripping the opponent was entirely legal.

If the woman completed the 10 switches, she would have the option of trying to
rape the guy. If she tried and failed, however, she would forfeit her win.

Terri was present because she was eager to show what she could do. Ernie was
here for a payday and to get a wrestling reputation as a "heel" whom people
would pay to see.

The match was just officially underway when Terri made her comment about
having her way with the Ernie. She was fondling his impressive bicep, which he
was only too eager to show off. But when she moved her other hand toward his
crotch and said, "Let's see what you've got down here," he jumped back, and
she laughed.

Now they squared off. She beckoned him toward her, know that he was the one
with something to gain by forcing the action, and that he would be embarrassed
not to engage her quickly. He wouldn't want to give the impression he was
worried about her.

She was dressed in a tiny black bikini that was chosen to show off a body she
was extremely proud of. Fortyish in age and pushing that in bosom size, she
was still firm everyplace and pointing in the right directions. She also wore
black high heels and had make-up fit for a night on the town, with bright red
lipstick that matched the red on her fingernails and toenails. Her hair was
coiffed for a night out, not hanging simply. She had earrings, blue eyeshadow
and some color in her cheeks.

He had on, besides wrestler's sneakers, only the small black brief that was
approved by the authorities because it was designed to make sure everybody
could see the level of his arousal.

He came at her with an eye toward a headlock. She darted two fingers into his
neck before he got to her, and he backed off, choking. Then she took the
headlock he was going for, walking the little man around the ring in a
show-offy way. Before he could plan a strategy for dealing with that, the lady
flipped the male wrestler over her shapely hip. When he landed on his butt,
she was still holding his head from behind. She shifted her lock slightly and
pushed his face, so that it was pressed into her armpit. This humiliation
could not be accepted, and he twisted and bucked like a bronco. But Terri hung
on, smiling widely for the crowd. Indeed, far from succeeding in getting away,
the muscular little man found himself pretty much flat on his back, his mouth
and nose covered by her flesh.

He was shocked and embarrassed. Before the match, he had assumed he would be
paired with some huge amazon. And he was expecting to handle her as if she
were a child. Instead, the busty, curvy little lady was the one doing the
handling, the showing off.

Suddenly she twirled around on him so that she was straddling him. Having
released his head from her armpit, she gyrated on his body sensuously while
struggling for control of his arms. Within seconds it was obvious to her that
she had flicked his switch successfully.

Surprising him, she let him go. She rolled off him, allowing his new
elongation to be seen by the crowd. The woman bowed flamboyantly and
femininely in several directions, soliciting applause for her first point
scored.

The rules held that four judges would be around the ring, and that three would
have to certify that a guy was hard and, when the time came, soft. They now
signaled that Ernie was hard.

The embarrassed man looked around in bewilderment. But Terri knew that she had
not yet completed the light-switch idea. She had to make him soft. Nobody was
shocked to see a beautiful woman turn a man on. Entertained, maybe. Amused.
But obviously not shocked. The test was whether she could turn him off.

Now, while she was bowing to the crowd with her ass toward her opponent,
Terri's left leg came up backwards hard into his gut. Then, before he could
mount a defense, she turned and kicked him two more times. He curled up,
whether to ease his pain or hide his crotch, or both. The woman knelt beside
him, slipped an arm under one of his arms and pushed it off his crotch to the
mat on the side of his body away from her. In the process, she flattened
herself on the man in a sort of T position, with him back on the mat. Now
everybody could see everything about his anatomy. The judges certified the
obvious that he was soft.

The audience applauded, especially the women, and Terri socked the man in the
solar plexus then stood and took her flamboyant bows again. She gave the
discombobulated man time to catch his breath and get his head together.

The little beauty was having a great time, finally getting to show off what
she could do in a real fight in front of an appreciative audience. She could
hardly believe this was happening. It was a dream come true. A fantasy, and it
was turning her on. She did not take this little guy seriously as an opponent,
seeing him instead as just as a prop to toy with to entertain herself and
others.

He, on the other hand, was enveloped in a murderous rage. This was serious
business for him. She was messing with his career, not to mention is male ego
and his bruised body.

He tried to virtually bound to his feet. He was premature, not yet having
really gotten control of himself. The moment he was vertical, Terri slid into
him, like a baseball player, upending him hard before he really had his
balance. He fell on his face. He would have fallen on top of the luscious
female if she hadn't anticipated that and positioned herself out of the way.
Immediately, she rolled on top of him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a
sleeper and rolling onto her back, so that she could wrap her legs around his
waist and go to work on his crotch. As he struggled against the choke hold,
knowing that, done right, it could put his lights out in seconds, she brought
her thin high heels into delicate contact with his crotch. She leaned her
mouth into his ear, touching him slightly with her lips and whispering, "Why
struggle so hard, Mighty Mite? You know you love this."

The effect was almost immediate. The crowd could see it, and the judges made
it official.

Terri then simply scissored Ernie, and he grunted, all erotic thoughts having
been thrust from his mind, and replaced with sheer pain. After a couple more
squeezes, the judges declared him to have been switched off.

Under the rules of Light Swith, she could only get credit for five switches in
any one positon. She went for the five. She was having a great time. And she
loved showing that she could hold Ernie in this position all night and turn
him on and off at will, just as if he were, indeed, a light switch.

In the process, she whispered in Ernie's ear. "Your mine, babe. Get used to
it. I own you flat out. I can make you feel as good as it is possible for a
guy to feel, and I can make you hurt so much you want to run home to mommy.
It's all up to me. And I'm doing it all while the whole world is watching, and
a video is being made that will last forever."

At the appropriate point in every on-off cycle, she would crunch her legs
together around his slim waist in a way that amazed him. Could such lovely,
such little, such smooth and enticing legs really be causing a muscular guy
like him this pain that felt like he was being cut in half?

After softening him one final time, Terri planted a dominating big kiss on his
cheek - leaving a lipstick mark that was there for the rest of the match. Then
she effortlessly rolled him back onto his face and, in the process of standing
up, rucked his briefs down to his knees.

He grabbed quickly for the briefs, but she lifted both of his ankles off the
mat and locked them under her armpits. Now he was reduced to trying to cover
his package with his hands. Terri laughed at him and played at his crotch with
one high-heeled foot. As he thrashed ineffectively, she also ran that sexy
foot sensuously along the inside of one of his thighs, up and down, near its
most sensitive area. She was soon able to switch him on for all too see. She
laughed and dropped him and let him pull his briefs up and get to his feet.

She walked around the ring clapping her hands and bringing the crowd along.

She took hold of a microphone hanging from the ceiling and said, "Now I'm
going to do that to you again, Mighty Mite. I've going to pull your little
panties down and make you hard for me for all the world to see, and there's
not a thing in the world you can do to stop me, even though I've just told you
exactly what I'm gonna do."

She let the mike go, and she circled around the discomfited man menacingly,
bending over in front him so that he and the crowd got a great shot of her
bosom. He was clearly on the defensive. But he had no response when she
somersaulted before him and, as she completed the circle, grabbed his briefs
and pulled them to his feet even as she continued rolling into him in a second
somersault. She knocked him down and rolled all the way over his body, putting
him flat on his back, in the process showing the whole world that he was still
hard. She had his briefs.

He turned over on his knees to face her. But he was reluctant to get up. He
crouched in a way designed to maintain as much of his privacy as possible. She
waved the cloth in front of his face, and he grabbed and missed twice. The
crowd laughed at his pathetic effort.

"OK, Mighty Mite," she said. "You want your little panties so much, here. I'll
take pity on you. What the hell: I can take them away from you any time I
want, anyway." She flipped them in his face, and he put them on, while
awkwardly attempting some modesty. He was still hard. She loved that.

She waited patiently for him to dress.

"You ready, Mighty Mite?" she said. "I'm going to sexually molest you some
more now, and I wouldn't want to do it if you weren't ready."

That made him come at her, but he had lost all confidence in his game, and he
was off it, and she simply butted her right shoulder into his chest as he came
at her, stopping the man in his tracks, sending him stumbling backwards. She
loved that. Showing him her own power. With a big smile on her face, she
kicked him in his solar plexus, and he dropped to his knees.

She loved having him look up at her. Now, referring back to what she had said
about having her way with his little body, she said, "Don't get me wrong,
Might Mite: I like messing with the big dudes, too. But with them I can't do
something like this." She lifted him to his feet with her hands under his
armpits. That was easy enough, because he was trying to rise anyway. Then, as
if in one movement, she slipped one arm between his legs and lifted him to her
shoulders. He was shocked at the move, as was the crowd. He struggled in vain.
She held him in place with one hand firmly over his neck, pushing his head
down on her right side, and her other arm controlling his top leg on her other
side. She paraded around the ring, showing off her strength and her easy
dominance of the man.

Then, to the further shock of everybody, she pressed her male package all the
way overhead, with one hand on his throat and the other near his crotch. She
paraded some more, smiling broadly. The crowd could clearly see that the man
was still hard. Then, suddenly, Terri brought both her arms down fast and
slammed the man to the mat.

Still he was hard. Earlier in the match, she had been a little careful not to
hurt him TOO much, because her main goal was to turn him on sexually. She was
afraid that if he was in too much pain, that would be harder, so to speak.
Now, however, having aroused him multiple times, she was confident that she
could beat him up to her heart's content and still turn him on at will. As he
started to rise to his feet, she jumped in the air, did a somersault and came
down with all her weight on his body. That flattened him. And softened him.
The judges made that official.

Slowly, casually, showily, she walked around the downed male fighter. Her hand
patted her hair into place in a self-congratulatory manner. Terri wanted the
crowd to know beyond any possible doubt that she considered the man to be hers
now, that she had no concerns about a comeback, that she was just toying with
him. It was over. To put her against a guy his size was just simply a
mismatch.

Finally, standing above her victim and in front of him, she cupped one of her
hands around the bottom of his chin and lifted him to his feet gently. When
was standing, she kissed him full on the mouth and she wrapped her arms around
his back, then fell to her back and threw him over her halfway across the ring
over her. Slowly again she positioned herself at his head and, as he turned to
get up, she lifted under the man's chin. This time he tried to swat her hands
away. With him halfway up, she threw her one of her arms under one of his
armpits and threw her hip into his body and twisted away from him so that he
was thrown over her, ass over heels. He found himself sitting facing away from
her. She grabbed him under the chin again, this time from behind, and thrust
her own body backwards, bringing his head into the mat hard.

Terri was giving Ernie a wrestling lesson, demonstrating to him and everybody
else that she didn't need to rely on her sexual allures to dominate him. Now
that she felt that that was fully established, she got back to the work at
hand. As the man struggled slowly to get off his back, she put him back on it
with a foot on his chest. He didn't have the strength to resist much. She
demonstrated this by standing there brushing her hair into place with her
hand, the man beneath her little foot. Then she lay down beside him and simply
pulled his face into her bosom. He struggled ineffectively, weakly. She made a
face as if to say, "Oh, please!" about the possibility him successfully
resisting her. When she had him in place, she stroked his face with a dainty,
manicured finger. Her femininity had him surrounded. It didn't talk long
before the judges ruled that she had flicked his switch again. Then, without
changing her position or his much, she simply put more pressure on his head,
forcing his face into her bosom harder. His and arms were now flailing
frantically, in the way of a man who can't breathe. Terry worried that if she
put him out completely, he would not lose his erection. So she didn't use all
her strength, preferring to have him suffer and fret long enough for his blood
to flow away from his dick sufficiently. However, when the judges certified
his softness, she simply and easily put him to sleep.

She got to her feet, walked to a corner and let him come to at his own pace. A
mirror and a hairbrush materialized, and she checked herself out and tended to
her appearance at her leisure.

He came to, sat up and looked around in confusion. She ignored him for a
while, then methodically put per stuff away and turned to him. She strutted
casually toward the now kneeling man. Facing him, she wrapped her hands behind
his head and brought his face into contact with her crotch. She held it there
as she moved toward him and slowly pushed him over onto his back. Her legs
locked around his chest as she lay on top of him and kept his face where she
wanted it. And she rubbed her body against him sensuously. The result on his
anatomy was again obvious for all too see.

To turn him off, Terri put her arms under his armpits and stretched the top of
his torso upwards as she wrapped her legs around his stomach and put pressure
downward. He thought she was going to stretch him to a breaking point, and he
lost all concentration on her sexual allures. To make sure the whole audience
saw what this did to his anatomy, Terri rolled to her back and raised the man
up off her by pushing on his shoulders with her hands and his knees with her
feet.

He was now suspended above her, helpless, exposed and in great pain because of
the resulting sag in his back. Those spectators who were not looking at the
enticing view Terri provided of her legs and ass could see that the man was
flaccid. They knew that his mind was on his pain, his fear and his
humiliation, not on the enticements of the woman who seemed to be within his
grasp but who was tormenting and dominating him as she almost seemed to be
resting on her back.

She then lowered the man to her, holding him possessively to her with her arms
around his chest. With her feet, she lowered his briefs enough to expose him
fully. Soon enough he was once again obviously under the control of her sexual
allure. His feminine conqueror again elevated him so that the audience could
see exactly the difference between what he looked like in that helpless
position when she wanted him hard and what he looked like when she wanted him
soft. The crowd watched as he shrank before their eyes, because of the pain in
his back under the hot little woman's utter, easy dominance.

Terri had lost count of Ernie's erections. She just knew that nobody was
stopping her.

She lowered him again, slipped out from under him and had him on his stomach
as she rested atop him. She easily stifled his pathetic attempts to mount some
effort to escape. She swept his knees out from under him with her legs. She
wrapped each of her arms over and around one of his so that he could hardly
use them. All the while, the little woman mugged for the crowd, as if the
man's very thoughts of escape were absurd. She made clear to everybody that
she could hold him indefinitely and effortlessly.

Then she began to demonstrate that she could do a lot more than just hold him.
She moved her mid-section in a circular motion against his butt. Then she
raised her mid-section away from him and slammed it back down on him. She did
that again. And again. It dawned on the crowd that she was simulating a rape.
And that the man had no defense.

She pounded him. She rubbed him. She remained in total control, looking for
all the world as if she was finding sexual satisfaction at his expense. After
demonstrating that he was hers completely, in every sense, she stopped and
reached back and put one of her arms between his legs, then wrapped it partly
around one of his thighs and lifted that thigh up so that the judges could see
the crucial part of his anatomy. They saw that Terri was not the only one who
saw her activities atop the man as sexual. He was hard as a rock.

On that symbolic note, the judges declared the fight over.

The victorious beauty rose and stood above the beaten man, holding one of his
ankles. She put a foot on his face.

The two warriors were joined in the ring by Carly, one of the announcers. She
said, "That was quite a display there lady. What are you plans now? Are you
going to rape Ernie?"

"No, I don't think so," said Terri. "I think I've made my point about that.
I'm not mad at him or anything. I think I'll leave rape for the rematch, if he
wants one."

Said Carly, "Well, if he does want one, that would be a little hard to
understand. I have to say that this was hardly a match at all. You looked like
you didn't even taken him seriously as an opponent."

"No, I can't say I did. Ernie is adorable, but he's obviously not ready for
all this," said Terri as she patted her hair into place and checked her
appearance on the screens in the arena.

The interviewer said, "Let me see if I can get a word with the loser." She
knelt and put the mike in Ernie's face and said, "Tell us, Ernie, how did it
feel to get your ass handed to you by a gorgeous little lady in front of the
whole world? I mean, here you are, this macho, buff guy who wants to make a
living wrestling big men, and you couldn't even ... " Here Ernie said, "Get
that think outta my face, bitch."

Said Terri, "Oh, now, Ernie, baby, is that any way to talk to the nice lady
just because I turned your whole world upside once and for all?" She knelt
down beside him and put one hand on his crotch and one on his throat, holding
him securely in place with her weight. "You know, Mighty Mite, I didn't go
after your crotch at all, except in the nicest of ways. But I think we both
know it's mine any time I want it, don't we? So I suggest you talk nice to the
nice lady."

In truth, Ernie was by now a mess not only physically, but mentally and
psychologically. Besides his body being in a - to him - unprecedented,
unnerving combination of pain, exhaustion and horniness, he was, by now, not
simply afraid of little Terri but in awe of her: her sexual allure and her
uncanny instinct for using it to best effect; her all-knowing control of his
libido; her masterful wrestling ability; her strength, so unsuspected, so well
disguised by her alluring curves; her devastating, invulnerable beauty; her
uncanny ability to always look as though she had just stepped out of a photo
shoot; her grace - her ineffable grace; and then there was her utter
self-confidence, her certainty that she was in full control at all times, a
certainty that he felt growing within him - about her. He felt less like an
opponent than a prop. If they had been alone, he would have conceded defeat.
He might even have been willing to beg for mercy if she proved nasty enough.
With everybody watching, he could not bring himself to such humiliation. But
even with everybody watching, he could not see a way to fight anymore. He knew
in his gut that that would just encourage her to entertain the crowd more and
longer - at his hyper-painful expense. THEN he would be forced to beg for
mercy in public. He wanted to avoid that.

She took her hand off his neck. But with the hand that was still on his
crotch, the sexy little lady let that muscular little man know that she meant
business. So, indeed, he answered the announcer's questions passively.

Terri then stood above the once-proud little warrior and pulled him to his
feet and loaded him on one of her soft, alluring shoulders. One rope of the
ring having been removed, she carried him down some steps and through the
crowd with her hand resting possessively on his tight ass. She was thinking
about how much the audience might want to see what was to follow once she had
the little guy alone.

In the locker room, when she set him down on his fight, he was still passive.
She stood right in front of him, enjoying that moment, directing the action.

She said, "You just got humiliated within an inch of disintegrating right
there, in front of everybody. You just got your life torn limb from limb. And
you got beaten within an inch of your life. And still what's really on your
mind is the body of mine." She pushed him gently back against a wall, and he
let her. Her hands wandered all over his body, front and back, as she
demonstrated his acceptance of her dominance. She continued, "Well, I'm not
going to tell you everything. But, make no mistake: You're mine now. I own
you: mind, body and, shall we say, spirit." She locked in a standing body
stretch. One of her bare legs wrapped sensuously around one of his, locking
him in place. His torso was bent painfully to one side, under an armpit of
hers. He yelped in pain. Her hand went to his crotch. He got hard fast, as she
eased up on the stretching. And she said, "Like I said, sweetheart, I'm not
mad at you. But let's just say this whole 'light switch' doesn't need an
audience to work for me."