Nea Priapeia

BY : salarta
Category: DC Verse Comics > Wonder Woman
Dragon prints: 6572
Disclaimer: I do not own Wonder Woman or DC Comics/Warner Bros properties, their characters or any related ideas or concepts. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Wonder Woman glared at the floating little imp. She heard tales of this prankster from Superman many times before, but not once did she think he would do... do... this. It was vulgar. It was obscene. It grated against her pride as a warrior, a princess and a woman.

Yet... she could do nothing. Despite centuries of training, Diana could only cross her arms, tuck them beneath a pair of breasts as furious red as her cheeks and tap her foot. No response from the little man. No response at all. Not the barest shred of fear or remorse whatsoever.

She tried to keep herself calm. She tried to focus on her sisters, on her mother, on the gods who expected the best in her. She tried, very, very hard to hold back her clenched fist. As soon as the cigar-chomping creature blew a thick cloud of smoke in her face, she lost that fight. Rage guiding her hand, she swiped at him and found her arm gliding through something soft and gooey.

Cum. Male cum. Drippy white stuff oozed from hand to elbow. Eyebrows curling and full lips screwing into a sneer, Diana wiped the mess on her costume.

Her new costume.

She didn't know what to call the lower garment. Panties? Shorts? A skirt? The... thing, clung tight between her legs, using such tension along her hips and upper thighs to part her pussy lips with special strips. From this base, it loosened and puffed out toward her waist until it ended with a nice big brim. Only her ass enjoyed a reprieve from so much cheap tan cloth, cool winds blowing across her bare cheeks while a deeply wedged thong kept the rest in place. It didn't take long for Diana figure out what it was.

It was a cock head. A fat, bulbous cock head. Her whole crotch looked like the glans of an especially large penis. It matched her new balaclava, a discovery she made when careful, gentle rubbing revealed its firm corona and rounded peak. Every slight pass sent embarrassing waves of pleasure down her back, teasing as if she buried her fingers to the knuckle in her slit and stroked herself toward climax.

The shape of it. The feel of it. Even its edge around her sharp Amazonian features left a perverse tickle to her sex. It blended so well, in fact, that she could only tell where her chin, cheeks and temples ended and cloth began by sudden pangs of lust that left her legs bowed and weak. What started as confusion, then outrage, then disgust, landed on sheer horror as she finally realized - she, Princess Diana of Themyscira, now served as the literal face for a stiff dick. Resisting the urge to touch herself further, she let both parts engorge in a mix of fury and lust.

Color returned to her cheeks when she heard the invisible imp chuckle.

"Stop this! I am a warrior, not some toy for you to play with," Diana shouted.

"Oh D, how could I ever pass on a chance to make the most of a spunky, virile woman like yourself?" In a puff of smoke, Mxyzptlk appeared before Diana. He rose and fell, nodding as he assessed the Amazon in her 'updated' wardrobe. "Besides, I think you make a mighty fine pecker. You've certainly got a pair on ya, that's for sure."

She knew what the imp meant. He meant her breasts. Her raw, heavy breasts. Their massive size taxed her back, straining the limits of a body never meant to bear such weight from within. The tight, wrinkly top wrapped around them hardly counted as support. It only pooled and lifted, turning her bust into a jiggly bag of flesh. Paired with a wreath of kinky dark tresses poking out the bottom of her balaclava, her tits' role in her new theme showed clear as her nipples through her top's thin tan fabric.

They were her balls.

She hated it. She hated every goddamned strand of hair framed to look like it belonged in a patch of pubes. She hated the imitation veins throbbing up her neck and down her bare belly. She hated everything Mxyzptlk did to turn her body into a canvas of phallic shapes, the Fifth Dimension equivalent of scrawling crude graffiti along the side of a majestic train. But she had no choice. Hands moving down to rest against her hips, Diana turned her head aside, held it high and stood perfectly still in a tough Amazon pose for the imp's pleasure.

If she could just catch the bastard...

"You've come along nicely! It's almost like you were made for that get-up."

"Why are you acting like such a vulgar little man to me? You never did anything like this to Superman." She guessed this stance made her look proud and vain, because Mxyzptlk chortled at her righteous tone. He followed it up by producing a long scroll filled with gibberish letters, which he waved before her eyes in a nonsensical blur.

"It can't be helped, D. Universal Law #680 says that anything I do to a man, I gotta do much worse to a woman... and throw some sex in for flavor."

"Of all the cowardly, pathetic, weak excuses for-" She could grouse and ramble for hours, but stopped herself when she realized it would waste precious seconds. Calming her tits - literally, blanking her thoughts until her throbbing red boobs settled into a tan lull - she came at the problem from a new angle. "Mxyzptlk. My friend."

"Yes?"

"I understand the appeal you find in these changes. I am, admittedly, a very strong and imposing woman. It must be very amusing to see a woman of my standing brought low in this manner."

"Buuuuuut?"

"But isn't all of this a little too... generic? You could put this outfit on Super Girl, or Power Girl, or Catwoman. If I'm going to have a new costume, should it not reflect who I am?"

Her words seemed to give the imp some measure of concern. He rubbed his chin, viewing. Judging. Finally, he snapped his fingers. "I think you're right! Lucky for you, I've thought of the perfect final touches to bring out the best in you."

In a flash of light, the Amazon's attire changed. Tiara, choker, emblem, belt, all and more returned in gleaming silver fashion. There was just one problem: dicks.

Her emblem on the upper fringe of her top bore three glans - one to each side of her breasts, and a central shaft jutting bigger and longer as it aspired for her chin. Lower, the crest in the middle of her belt peaked with its cock tip pressed against her navel.

She wanted to believe the imp's chicanery stopped there. She wanted it so bad. Instead, she reached up and traced her fingers along the bands of metal around her neck and atop her balaclava's bulb. With a heavy, annoyed sigh, she felt their imprint of a pair of phalli spewing their seed on a lone eye caught between them. Her armbands and bracelets revealed the eyes' color, following the same motif with a blue and white orb at center. From shackles to shields to tiny trinkets, the bracelets glowed moreso than any other piece of this strange new set. With boots ending in dicks at her toes, her theme rounded out in one of the flashiest, most abundant displays of priapic obsession put to form.

To say she was pissed would fail to describe the brow-scrunching, nostril-flaring, lip-curling outrage these changes brought out of her. Diana fumed, her mood further soured as she breathed in and got a big whiff of her brand new musk. She reeked of ball sweat, hot spunk, matted pubes, all the things she might expect from the aura of some great masculine sex god. No matter how much she screwed her face in disgust and waved a hand over her nose, it lingered and shamed her with its scent.

For all of Diana's torment, Mxyzptlk had one word to giddily describe what he wrought. "Perfect!"

"You call this perfect?!" Diana said with a rising scowl. "You've insulted my gods, my sisters, my mother, and everything it means to be an Amazon."

"But not you, am I right?"

She wouldn't dignify that claim with an answer. It had no business being made. It had no business tying up her tongue with attempts to prove him wrong. As if the princess of all Amazons would enjoy being covered in cocks. She scoffed at the very idea.

How Superman managed to put up with this menace, she couldn't begin to fathom. She wanted to snatch him out of the air, bat him around like a punching bag and fling into a brick wall. She wanted to-

The urge slithered down her spine when she heard a police siren wailing in the distance. She glared at the imp. "Change me back."

"No way, toots."

"Change. Me. Back," she repeated through clenched teeth.

"Do you really wanna let those crooks get away? They might do a lot of damage while you're tryin' to work out your penis envy."

Despite the fiercest mask of fury her Amazon will could muster, Mxyzptlk simply floated there with his awful imp smirk. He wouldn't budge. With a frustrated growl, Diana jumped into the air and soared north.

Her journey was... not the most gracious. Through city block after city block, people stopped to gawk and point at her passing through Boston's skyline. She imagined shock, scandal, outrage at Themyscira's finest warrior presenting herself in the form of a giant prick. Yet as she took a tight turn around Millennium Tower...

"Look, it's Dick Girl!"

"Wooooo! I love that big fat cock!"

"Give 'em a good dicking, DG!"

Everywhere she flew, a flurry of cheers celebrating her length, girth and might followed - each more bizarre than the last. She tried not to notice, but the constant refrain of her new name hammered away at her. It just kept coming... and coming... and coming...

By the time she found the crooks' car swerving through downtown, relief washed over her. Finally, finally, some distraction from all those people fawning over her big, floppy-

"Focus, Diana. Focus."

She swooped in above a swarm of police cruisers. Lights flashed and sirens blared around her. They grated on her ears, streaked in her eyes, sights and sounds muddling her mind. For a moment, she forgot it all. She forgot about that noisome stench wafting off her skin, her boobs wildly bouncing in their ball sack top, swift gusts whipping her ass and tickling her spread cunt. She was part of the hunt again, part of the thrill of the chase, reliving those glorious days on Themyscira.

Then she shot a couple wads of glowing spunk from her bracelets.

The muck smeared across both rear hubs. It oozed through, running past the wheel bearings, past the axle, gumming up the whole shaft. Soon, the car skidded down an alley with a conveniently messy white trail. While Boston's finest halted at the street, Diana - Dick Girl - landed with a loud spurt from her boots and walked toward the crooks' bashed up wreck.

Three men. Three guns. One aimed at a hostage, who they pulled out the back seats and put on display as a warning. As ridiculous as she felt, Diana poured all her Amazonian rage into a fierce shout.

"You are under arrest! Come out with your hands up."

"Not on your life, dickhead!"

Diana scowled. "Really? I'm a woman dressed like a giant penis and 'dickhead' is your best insult? You could have used Freud's Electra complex to-"

PTANG! A white energy shield flared from her bracelet, blocking a bullet meant for her head. The next few seconds brought a hail of cheap shots, and blurring arms to keep up. Left. Right. Up. Down. Center. Shoulder. Shin. Neck. It took one slug narrowly whizzing past Diana's whirlwind defense for her to learn a new function of her suit. As soon as the bullet hit her cleavage dick, it crushed into itself and dropped harmlessly at her feet. A second shot bounced off her belt. Third, fourth, fifth, sixth, a chorus of twangs and sputters erupted across her chest balls and glans waist. All that armor served a purpose.

At a cost.

She moaned. Sweat dripped down her cheeks. Jizz splattered against her chin. Her legs quaked and pussy gushed as she came to hot pleasure coursing through her nerves. She blinked away the glaze in her eyes, shook the cobwebs from her cock-addled brain and kept up her guard. The instant the crooks' ammo ran out, she growled.

"Dickhead it is, then."

A few well-angled scummy bracelet blasts clogged the barrels of their guns. She walked toward them, biding her time and letting the trio tremble at her menace. One rushed her and fell into a coughing fit the moment he caught her scent. He was easy. One punch to the gut, and she tossed him in the nearest dumpster. The second man tried to bluff her by pressing his gun to their hostage's temple. His spirit withered with one short, stern look.

Number three wanted to make it harder. He bolted for the other end of the alley, darting past the car and keeping low.

Luckily, she had just the tool to take him down. Reaching to her side, Diana grabbed the coiled rope, twirled it over her and aimed. She judged the angle. She judged the distance. She let it fly. The line sank on approach. Right when it looked like the man might move out of range, two steel balls wrapped around his ankles and sent him tripping to the ground. She tugged on the rope, reeling him in. He thrashed. He swore. He tried to cut himself free with a flimsy knife from his belt. None of it worked. Once he lay before her, she yanked him up by his shirt.

"Looks like I got you by the bolas," she quipped... then immediately loathed herself for it. "Don't tell anyone I said that."

Before she had a chance to really stare the man down, she heard footsteps. Squeaky, heavy footsteps, joined by a fleet of lesser ones. Diana dropped the man and turned.

"Detective Rains, get a load of-" she suddenly caught herself. Where did that come from? Where did any of this come from? Buzzing for a save, she blurted out the first thing that popped in her head. "... evidence from the scene this time. I don't wanna have to catch these guys again next week."

"You can count on us for that much at least. Good work, Dick Girl."

"I am not a girl," Diana flatly insisted. "Or a dick. I am Diana Prick, Priestess of Pityussa."

It flew off her tongue so quickly. So easily. She almost didn't think anything of it until the word 'priestess' rattled around in her brain. It didn't... fit. It sounded foreign. Strange. Like... like...

She froze. White hot rage bubbled from within. Then and there, she knew the imp's playing meant more than she thought. It reached further. Much, much further. It took everything she had not to storm off.

"Dick Girl, Diana Prick, I don't care what you call yourself. You got the job done and saved lives. That's enough in my book. We'll need you to come by the station some time for questions, but other than that, we'll take it from here."

"... Thanks."

While Detective Rains walked away, busily jotting down notes in his pad, Diana stood and stewed in her new life. How many of her sisters lost favor with the gods to suit the imp's whims? What changes did her friends suffer to make them fit this farce - assuming she still had friends? Among these and other thoughts, she sensed Mxyzptlk floating beside her like a gnat and struck swiftly. She had him. She had him by the throat. Ignoring the fact he might poof out of her grip at any moment, she pulled him to her face.

"What have you done, you greasy little worm?"

"Er, ahem, what's there to be upset about?" Mxyzptlk stammered, playing the part of a lesser, more fearful man. "Aren't you satisfied after that bust? I even gave you new and improved powers. You should be thanking me."

"It's bad enough you made a mockery of me and everything I stand for, but I won't let you hurt the people I know and love. Undo it all. Now."

With a sleight of hand less magic and more cheat, Mxyzptlk slipped free and adjusted his polka dot bow tie. "You know the rules, D. You have to send me back to the Fifth Dimension to reset everything."

"Fine. Say your name backwards and save me the trouble of trying to make you say it for me." She crossed her arms. "And stop calling me-"

"Dick Girl! Hey, Dick Girl!"

"Uuuuuugh..." Diana groaned in disgust and glanced down the alley.

She could see them. All of them. Cameras and catcalls assaulted her prone ears. Flashes captured her famous dicked out form. Second by ticking second, the throng of reporters looked positively feral, warring against limits imposed by fresh police tape.

Enough. Rising off the ground, she pulled her arms back and prepared to whizz off when the imp floated in her path with a wagging finger.

"Ah-ah. Not so fast, Dicky. Y'see, you're not like Supes. You're an Amazon. You've got tests, trials, training..."

Diana didn't know what disturbed her more - the imp's constant meddling with long-cherished Amazon customs, or how swiftly she understood his latest scheme. Grumbling, she dropped with a sickening squirt from her toes. "Let me guess. You have a series of Labors I must complete before you'll leave."

"You got it! You're gonna have to prove you deserve to be called Pityussa's biggest cock lover."

"What if I don't want that 'honor'?"

"Well then, I can find a nice, new place for ya. I hear Circe would love to have a wonderful dick to call her own."

She knew idle threats... but this wasn't idle. He could do it, without batting an eye. And he wouldn't care. Glowering, she answered, "Okay, you've made your point. What do you want me to do?"

"You already passed the first Labor, now comes the next part." Sparkles flew with a wave of his hand, swirling toward their rowdy, waiting crowd. "You're on, Dicky. Gimme a good show."

She paused, braced herself for the next round of Mxyzptlk's twisted game, and stomped toward her next task.



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