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Oathbound	By : rubicon541 Category: DC Verse Comics > Wonder Woman Views: 145722 -:- Recommendations : 7 -:- Currently Reading : 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Wonder Woman or any aspect of DC comics. I am making no money from this. I neither own nor control the fandom surrounding Wonder Woman. This is a work of fantasy. Real life does not and should not work like this.

Chapter List
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WONDER WOMAN

OATHBOUND

by

Rubicon Cross
Chapter Two

It had been a couple of weeks since the day I had both saved Wonder Woman's life and bound her to me sexually in the same day. I have to admit, they were two of the longest weeks of my life. On the one hand, there was anticipation. By the terms of the oath I had Wonder Woman swear -- an oath she literally could not break -- for two days a month she had to be my lover, surrendering herself and her desires to me completely. You had better believe I was anxious to get started.
On the other hand, however, there was fear. I had built into the oath certain safeguards to make certain Wonder Woman couldn't either cause me harm -- directly or indirectly -- or allow harm to come to me. However, she was surrounded by some of the most powerful legends the world had ever known. Superman. Batman. Zatanna... if one of them found out that I had extorted the oath from her -- by threatening the Justice League with worldwide exposure of their innermost secrets -- it would go very, very badly for me.
Still, Batman didn't show up in the middle of the night to terrorize me, and Superman didn't vaporize me from orbit with his eyes, so when I got up Friday morning, I knew I had gotten away with it. At least for now. At least for this first weekend.
And that meant tonight was the night.
There were preparations to do, of course, and I did them over the course of the previous couple of weeks. I'd seen a doctor, for one. I'd picked up various supplies, for others. I was ready for a number of different ways for the weekend to play itself out. I'd stocked the fridge and I'd stocked the bar.
Does that surprise you? Do you not see Diana of Themyscira as a drinker? Well, honestly, neither did I -- and that was part of the point. I hadn't gotten as much information out of her as probably I should have, but I got a good impression of what Diana wanted from an encounter like this. On the one hand, she'd admitted to some bondage fetish. On the other, she'd admitted that because she was supposed to be... well, Wonder Woman, some of the appeal was being forced to do things she might want to do... but couldn't allow herself to do.
And that's the key to everything. It wasn't enough to nail Wonder Woman. I wanted her to enjoy this. For the rest of our lives, she was going to be my lover. I wanted her yearning for our weekends. And that meant both playing to her hidden desires... and breaking through her sense of who she was supposed to be.
The day seemed to crawl. I went to work at the bookstore, and tried not to stare at the clock. It was agonizing.
But finally, five o'clock came. I drove home, to my basement apartment. It was a decent size -- inexpensive enough for my budget, but not bad. And even better, the floors above me were well insulated, which meant it was very nearly soundproof. There were no neighbors on my floor, either -- on one side there was another well insulated wall seperating my apartment from the furnace room, and on the other side was an unfinished basement that no one had been in for fifteen years, not counting me storing some of my stuff in there. The windows were all high up on my walls and small, letting light in, but thanks to light curtains and the angle, it was nigh impossible for someone to see into my place.
I'd never thought of it this way before, but my apartment was nearly perfect for clandestine trysts. Or to slowly break down a superheroine's defenses and reluctance.
I'd showered and gotten ready -- I was wearing a dark red silk shirt and black dress pants. I think I looked pretty good, though in one sense it didn't matter how I looked. And then I waited.
At 7:55, almost on the dot, there was a knock at my door. It was a strong knock.
I took a deep breath and opened the door.
And there she was. Diana of Themyscira. Bigger than life.
She wasn't wearing her tiara, and she had on a closed grey trenchcoat. Her legs were bare underneath it, save for her distinctive boots. Clearly, she was wearing her costume underneath the coat, but didn't want people to know Wonder Woman was entering the building. She carried a duffel bag -- no doubt with the sundries she'd need over the weekend.
"Hey there," I said, as lightly as I could.
"Hello, Thomas," she said, smoothly. Her eyes held some defiance. It was hard to tell if she was angry, nervous, or excited. Maybe she was all three.
"Come on in," I said. "You're early."
"I didn't want to be late," she said lightly. "After all, I wouldn't want to run the risk of breaking my word."
"Your word?" I asked. "Or your oath?"
She flushed slightly as she stepped inside. "My word. I can't break my oath."
I nodded at this. "Regardless, it's nice to see. How have you been? Are you fully recovered from Poison Ivy's attack?"
"Yes," she said. "It took a few days and some help from... an associate."
"And everything worked out?"
"I rescued my captured allies," she said. "And we stopped the Injustice Alliance."
"Good." I closed the door. And very slowly, and very deliberately I locked it -- three locks, all told. A chain, a bolt and the doorknob. It was symbolic. I was locking the world out, and Diana in.
She breathed in sharply as I did so: the symbolism wasn't lost on her. Of course, a locked door wouldn't slow her down for a second, but she knew what it really meant. The world was locked out. For the next forty-eight hours, it was just the two of us... and she had no choice at all as to what would happen.
I turned to look at her. "You wear trenchcoats well," I said.
She took a deep breath. "I wanted to... conceal my identity, at least somewhat."
"Good. Though you realize, if anyone saw you coming here dressed like that, they'd assume you were a prostitute."
Her cheeks colored. "I hadn't... thought of that," she said.
"How does it make you feel?" I began to circle her.
"I... don't have an opinion." She reached to undo the coat.
"No," I said, half-whispering. "Leave it on for now. But give me your lasso."
She swallowed, but slipped a hand into the coat and down to her hip. She withdrew it, the golden Lariat of Truth in her hand, and she handed it to me.
"Thank you," I said softly, still circling her. She grew somewhat self-conscious as I watched her, appraising. "Have you been thinking about tonight?" I asked her.
"I... could hardly be expected not to," she said -- defensive, perhaps. Or defiant. Definitely evasive.
"And how did you feel about it."
"I am coerced to surrender myself... to surrender my very virginity to you," she said, dropping her voice slightly. "Naturally I am furious."
"Naturally," I said, playing with the golden strands in my hand. Just as I stepped out of her view, still circling her, I pulled them tight, snapping them together with an audible, metallic crack. She jumped slightly, breath caught by the sound. "Did you look forward to tonight?"
There was a pause.
"Diana?"
"I wasn't aware it was a requirement," she said, coolly.
I half smiled. Another evasion. Another bit of defiance. That was good. That would make this all the sweeter. "Of course," I said. "Lift your arms over your head."
"Excuse me?"
I stepped back in front of her, looking her in the eye. "Lift your arms over your head. Cradle them behind your head. Pose for me."
Her face colored more, but she slowly did so. She had to. She had to 'indulge my desires,' by her oath.
I watched her move, and watched her pose, letting my eyes linger on her... before I stepped closer, and very deliberately wound the lasso around her waist, just above her hips. I pulled it tight enough so the trenchcoat was pulled in, showing a hint of the curves the coat otherwise concealed.
Her breath escaped her as I did so -- as I bound her into the lasso's truth, and as I invoked another aspect of the oath she swore by the River Styx: I swear that I will allow him to use the Golden Lariat of Truth on me at his discretion, and when bound I will act as though I am his captive, unable to escape.
I moved slowly behind her, my fingertips still on the lasso, which meant they were still touching her waist. I made a simple knot there -- this was just a temporary arrangement. I'd get more involved with the lasso when she wasn't wearing quite so much. Then I slid my hands around her body, cupping her abdomen... and drew her back, so that she leaned against me, her hands still cradling her head. "You're my captive," I said, softly.
"Yes," she whispered in return, unable to lie or hold back.
"You've been thinking about tonight."
"Yes," she said again, shivering.
"You were angry."
"Yes."
"But you were also looking forward to it. Weren't you?"
She shivered. "Yes," she answered.
"You wanted this."
"Yes," she practically hissed.
"Did you think about it before falling asleep at night."
"Yes."
"Did you touch yourself?"
She moaned, ever so softly. She had no choice. She couldn't hold back. She couldn't evade. She could only answer. "Yes," she said, soft as a breeze.
"What did you touch?" I asked, leaning closer, whispering in her ear.
"I... myself... I touched myself..." she answered. I could feel the warmth from her face, burning with embarrassment.
"Describe it. In detail."
She shivered -- I knew her shiver could throw a horse off her, but this time she didn't disturb our position. "I... I did it more than once... which.... time should I...."
"The first time... tell me about the first time, when you were thinking about tonight, and you touched yourself."
"I was mad," she whispered. "But... it also... warmed me. I was stewing about it as I tried to sleep... until I realized my fingers were on my breast... on my nipple. It felt good. I stopped... but then started again...."
"Go on..."
"And I ran my other hand over my stomach," she said, breathless now, eyes half-shut. "I... I was feeling warmer, imagining what you would do to me...."
"And then?"
"I... imagined you spreading my legs, and... they opened... and I slipped my hand between them, into my underwear. I... I...."
"Shh. That's enough." I was massaging her through the coat now, feeling her stomach muscles move under my fingers. Her legs shifted, causing her backside to slide over me, pressing slightly.
"When you came here... wearing that trenchcoat... anyone who saw you would think you're a prostitute," I said again, softly.
"Yes...."
"They would know you were coming to service me."
"Oh... Hera... yes...."
"And that thrills you, doesn't it?"
She moaned softly. Another agreement escaped her lips.
"You like the thought... a woman come to please a man. A courtesan..." my voice dropped to a whisper. "A whore...."
"I'm not a whore," she said, very quietly.
"But anyone who saw you would think you were," I answered.
"Yesssss..."
"And you like that."
She swallowed. "...yes...."
I slid my right hand down... down to her outer leg, over the coat... then found its hem... and slid it up along her mid-thigh, under the coat. She shivered at the intimacy. "You masturbated, thinking about me... thinking about tonight... thinking about acting as my whore...."
"...oh yes...."
"You came."
"...y-yes...."
"And then you did it again."
She didn't answer that time, but pressed back against me as my hand found her upper inner thigh. Her legs were apart just enough to let me touch her -- and I knew just from how she reacted that no man had ever touched her like this before. As she shivered again, I slid my other hand higher, cupping her breast through her coat. My own heart was racing now. Wonder Woman was mine, and the thought excited her.
"Turn your face towards me," I whispered.
She did so, her eyes close. Her lips slightly parted.
My lips found hers. She froze for half a second... and then I felt her returning the kiss. Felt her nipple harden so much I could feel it through her bustier and trenchcoat alike... I guess that's super-strong too, I thought, but resisted the urge to chuckle as I drank in our first kiss... and drank in her surrender to it.
I moved my lower hand then... cupping her... feeling her through the thin band over her crotch. The band was pliant and warm -- it felt like some kind of metal, almost, but a metal that still transmitted any touch as though it were the thinnest satin. She froze again, breaking the kiss as I held her, touching her as intimately as I could while she was still clothed... and then as I began to massage, she moaned, low and throaty.
"You like this," I said.
"...yes...."
"You're helpless."
"Zeus... yes...."
"And you like that," I said, moving my fingers more quickly.
"...yeeeeessss...."
"You're close," I said. "Close to the edge, already...."
"I... yes....."
"It's been so long, you've wanted something like this to happen for so long now... you've been anticipating this moment for so long..."
"Yuh... yuh... yeeeesss...."
I clenched my upper hand, squeezing her breast hard -- I couldn't possibly hurt her, but the sensation was still shocking to her, even as I found my target through her uniform's crotch and stimulated it as much as I could. An old hand at these things might see this as foreplay or see it all as too much, too fast, but the woman in my arms -- a virginal woman who yearned to be sexual, but felt locked into a role -- responded sharply and intensely... right up to the edge....
"...surrender..." I whispered.
"What?"
"Surrender to it... to me..."
"I...I...."
"Now."
And she cried out, full voice, and was consumed in what had to be the most intense orgasm of her life. Her body shuddered and shook, and I held on tightly lest she accidentally hurl me to the ground with the strength of it. I held her as she came, long and hard... and continue to hold her as she practically fell back, tension released from her body as she became almost liquid in my arms.
I kissed behind her ear. "Welcome, Diana," I murmured. "Welcome to your new life. To our new life."
A few minutes later, she was drinking a large glass of Sprite. She was still wearing the trenchcoat, and she looked disheveled, but I had untied the lasso and she had regained a little bit of her composure. This was going to take time -- no matter how much she helped me, I was still going to be retraining her in these meetings -- making her into my lover first, a goddess or superheroine second. That meant invading those parts of her she tried to hide, and doing too much of that too quickly meant she would resist or resent. "That... wasn't what I expected," she said, finally.
"What do you mean?"
"I... thought you'd strip me naked and take me," she said. "No prelude, just force."
"Did you hope for that?"
She glanced at the lasso in my hand, though she wasn't currently bound by it. "I don't know," she said. "Somewhat."
"We'll play with that some. You've never climaxed in front of someone before, have you?"
"No, I haven't," she said, looking away. "Much less while being touched. No one's ever..." she shivered.
"You all right?" I asked, smiling slightly.
"Who can tell?" she asked, almost laughing. "I feel...."
I arched an eyebrow.
"I feel... female."
"Don't you always?"
"I don't know. I'm so busy being Wonder Woman... I don't always let myself feel like womanly." She looked at me. "Is that... Hera help me, I can't believe I'm even going to ask this..."
"Go on," I said, smiling.
"Is that what it's like... what a woman's supposed to be? Captive to a man? Submissive?"
I chuckled. "I don't think any given woman's supposed to be anything, Diana. I think you like a certain amount of submission. I've known other women who hate it."
"You called me a whore," she said, looking away.
"I said people would think you're a whore," I countered. "And so what?"
"Excuse me?"
"Diana, you of all people know that for years, temple prostitutes and women like them saw the transaction as sacred. You know there are plenty of working girls out there who aren't ashamed of what they do -- who embrace it, and do what they love because they love it."
"I'm... supposed to live up to a higher standard. I'm supposed to be...."
"Wonder Woman?"
"I am Wonder Woman. I'm supposed to epitomize women."
I half smiled. "In here, you're Diana. And Wonder Woman. But you don't epitomize anyone but yourself, do you understand me? In here, you're you." I slowly smiled. "Which is nice. If all womankind were in here, my landlord would throw a fit. I'm not supposed to have parties."
She laughed. Then paused, almost startled.
"It's okay to laugh," I said.
"I'm not sure it is," she said, softly. "Remember, this is all coerced."
"I remember," I said. I smiled a bit. "Diana?"
"Yes?"
"Go into the bathroom, straighten yourself out a bit... and when you come out... leave the trenchcoat behind. I want Wonder Woman to come out."
She paused, then nodded, finishing her Sprite and setting the glass down. "I'll be right out," she said.
I watched her go in, and I slowly smiled.
It took perhaps longer than one might expect. I suppose even a goddess and superheroine has to build up her nerve sometimes, but the bathroom door finally opened. I turned to watch, and froze, tranfixed.
Wonder Woman was standing in the doorway, framed by the bathroom light. She stood tall, and proud, her tiara on her head, her arms adorned by her bracers, her leather boots polished to a gleam, and her uniform clinging to her like it was painted on. She looked indomitable. She looked powerful.
She looked magnificent.
"Wow," I said softly.
She arched an eyebrow. "You usually have more to say."
"Confronted with... perfection... who could speak, Wonder Woman?"
"I'm not perfect," she said. "If I were...."
"Yes?"
"We wouldn't be here, would we?" She quirked a smile.
I half-smiled as well. "Perhaps not." I nodded towards the living room. "After you."
"So you can watch me walk?"
"Yes."
She smiled at this. "Good to know." She turned and began walking... her hips moving slightly more than I had seen before. She knew how to draw attention to her hips, to her butt, to those remarkable legs...
The living room's lights were subdued. I had lit some candles, and there was soft music playing. It's not that it was romantic -- romance wasn't the evening's agenda -- but it was a softening. Wonder Woman was stepping into a different world, one with a softer focus. And there was no need to be crass.
My living room had one other advantage. There was a thick pipe that ran along the ceiling. A drainpipe that passed through from one of the upper floors into the furnace room.
And Wonder Woman's lasso had already been draped over it, leading to two separate coils underneath. And right across from it was a safe -- a brand new one. It was open, and empty.
She looked at it, then looked back at me with her eyebrows arched.
I smiled a touch, and nodded her over to it. I noticed she was turning red again as she stepped over, then turned to face me. Still defiant.
I walked over to her, looking her up and down. "Put your hands behind your head again," I whispered.
She looked at me for a long moment, then lifted her hands over her head. I took one of the ends of the lasso, and began to bind those hands. Once again, the breath left her body as the Lariat of Truth took effect... along with the terms of her oath.
Once I finished binding her wrists together, I pulled the slack end of the rope, drawing her arms higher towards the pipe. Within a couple of moments, her arms were pulled taut over her head, and I moved to secure the rope to the bottom of one of the support beams in the room.
Despite all her strength and power -- she could easily snap the pipe, rip out the support beam, or just fly straight up away from me -- she was now my captive. Her oath meant that no matter how she flexed her muscles -- and I saw them tensing and releasing along that powerful body -- she was helpless to free herself.
I looked her up and down once more, her skin pink from embarrassment, and goosebumps having raised on her arms... I looked up into her eyes, which were still strong... but vulnerable, now. And slowly... deliberately I looked down, to her breasts...
And even through the bustier, I could see her nipples showing through.
"You find this exciting, don't you?" I said, my voice soft again.
"Yes...."
"Why?"
She shivered. "I'm helpless," she said, softly. "Until you let me go, I'm completely in your power. I can't fight you. I can't argue with you. My body is yours to touch. And the ropes feel good, though I wish...."
"Wish?"
"I wish more than my wrists were bound."
I smiled at that. "We'll get there," I said. "There's an advantage to doing it this way."
"An... advantage?"
I nodded, and slowly smiled. "Your uniform is sleeveless and strapless, Wonder Woman. This is the one way I can have you bound... and strip you naked if I want."
She shivered at the words, swallowing. "Is that how it's to be?" she asked.
I stepped closer, and slowly reached up with a hand. I ran my fingernails along her cheek, to her neck. She closed her eyes, her breath coming faster.
"You're mine," I whispered. "You can't stop me, Wonder Woman."
"No... I can't stop you," she answered, eyes still closed. Breath still fast.
I slowly traced back up, behind her ear, and felt the red pearl shaped earring she wore. She shivered at that. "Your tiara is a weapon, right?"
"Yes..."
"What does it symbolize?"
"My crown. My legacy. The Kingdom I serve and will one day rule."
I slid my fingers to her temple, reaching up with my other hand, and took hold of the tiara with both. Her eyes opened, wide with surprise. "You're not a princess with me," I whispered, and slid the metal off her.
She shivered as I stepped back, her tiara in my hands. Without it, her hair seemed more primal. I set it inside the safe, then turned back to her.
"You're...." she started, but her breath caught.
"What is it, Wonder Woman?" I smiled a bit more.
"You're not just stripping my clothing off me," she said, softly. "You're stripping me of my identity."
I smiled a bit more, and kneeled. I began to undo the zipper on one of her boots.
"You... you don't need to do this," she said, a touch more breathless now. "I'm here... I'm willing... you can have me any way you...."
"A superheroine wears boots like this," I said softly. "To stand tall and look imposing." I pulled, and the boot came free, her shapely calf tense and her toe pointing almost against her will as I removed it. "But you aren't a superhero with me."
"Thomas," she said, quieter. "Thomas... we...."
"Shhhh..." I said, removing her other boot. I put them in the safe.
When I turned back to her, she was breathing more quickly. I'm sure she didn't expect the depth of her reaction to this. I'm not even sure why I knew this was the right path to take with her. It just felt right. I knelt again, and began to trace her calves with my fingers, slowly moving up those magnificent legs. I teased along her sides, through that pliant metal uniform. She jumped and shifted slightly -- ticklish, it seemed. At least in these situations. That was good to know.
"You said the uniform adheres to your skin?" I asked softly.
"Yes," she said, her eyes closed. "And stretches with me...."
"How do you remove it?" I half-smiled. "Does it just come free?"
"The bond becomes weak when you take the girdle off," she murmured. Ahh, of course. She was famous for protecting her belt, but she had already told me that she didn't lose her powers when it was removed, which was the prevalent rumor. Instead, it was the difference between preserving her modesty in perhaps the least modest costume a superhero could wear and falling out of her suit.
"That's good to know," I said, just as softly, tracing her hips and waist with my fingertips. She was warm through the uniform. I let my eyes slide over her as I touched her, deliberately looking down to her breasts. They were still contained by the bustier, of course -- and I now knew they would be, barring the removal of that belt or the destruction of the costume -- but her arousal could clearly be seen through the material, even though it was thicker up there.
I slid my eyes higher, to find hers... and moved my fingers around to the small of her back, feeling along the belt. Ahhh -- there. A hidden clasp. I worked it, and felt the belt almost shimmer in my fingers... and then it slid open, forming an arc not unlike her tiara, now of rigid metal. She breathed in sharply, even as the uniform seemed to ripple... and glancing down I could see her breasts were now being held by it, deforming slightly. 'Muffin tops,' as they said. She was vulnerable now, and she knew it.
I carefully removed the belt. It was rigid, but could be pushed into new shapes, it seemed. I took a moment to methodically roll it up, and was delighted to see it held the roll automatically. I turned and put the belt in the safe, then took a moment to take out a small pouch before turning back to face my captive.
She was shifting, tensing against the rope, still, but with slightly less force. I could see why -- now when she moved, her breasts slid against the fabric of her suit, instead of it remaining painted to her skin. Too robust a movement and she would at the least burst free of her bustier. Even though she knew where all this was going, she wasn't about to do that.
I walked over to her, and gently slid a fingernail along her collarbone, to her neck. She shivered, rolling her head opposite me, giving me access to that neck. I smiled again, sliding my hand up along her jawline and pushing her hair aside, giving me access to her ear. She was wearing her earrings -- silver five point stars with a red pearl-like stone in the center. "You wear these to be more feminine, to draw allure and mystique to you," I murmured, as I unhooked the earring and slid it free. She moaned as I shifted to take her other earring. "But you have no mysteries from me."
Her breath was coming faster now, her eyes half-closed. She was nervous -- maybe even scared. But more than that she was excited. I smiled, seeing that, and put the earrings in the safe. I then took out two red silk scarves, and turned back to her, considering.
"What are those for?" she asked, softly.
I walked over to the side, getting a chair. I then set it behind her, and stood on it. "Your bracers keep you from losing control, right?"
"Yes," she said. "It is the curse of the Amazons."
"Then we can't remove them. We have to change their context." I began to wind the first scarf around her left bracer, carefully covering the silver metal.
Diana shivered, goosebumps forming on her skin. I arched an eyebrow -- this was having more of an effect than I expected. "What's happening to you?" I asked quietly.
"I... don't know. I feel... something run through me as you do that. I've never felt anything quite like it."
I nodded. "We'll have to explore that." I finished winding the first scarf, then began winding the second, prompting Diana to shiver again.
I dropped back to the floor, and moved the chair back to the side. I looked at Diana from behind. Her body wasn't quite limp, but much of her proud bearing had shifted. And of course, the suit, though still tight on her body, looked like it was barely containing her.
I walked over to her, and slid a hand down her back. She shuddered as she felt my fingers touch her bare shoulderblades, then shivered again as it moved down along the back of her bustier, to the gleaming blue and white of her bottoms. She shivered again as I slid my hand over the curve of her posterior, to the skin of her hip, and then traced the finger underneath the metallic fabric -- just barely, tracing her hip, but reminding her that without the belt, the suit could be invaded.
She breathed out, almost cooing. I leaned closer, whispering into her ear. "Your bracers are your symbol and armor -- the power of a warrior. But you are not armored form me and you are not a warrior with me, Diana."
Her eyes opened, and she looked at me as I moved in front of her. I traced my fingers along her sides, up to the skin, prompting her to shift. So ticklish, it seemed. "Your uniform," I said softly.
"Yes?" she asked, just as softly. Barely breathing, right at the moment. Her muscles were tensing again -- reminding herself she couldn't escape.
"It identifies you as a super heroine. As Wonder Woman."
"Yes."
I looked in her eyes, my fingers moving to the front, playing over her breasts, feeling those nipples through her bustier again... sliding higher, to touch the top of those breasts, the edge where the metal met skin.
"But you are not a super heroine in here... you are not a heroine with me... are you?"
She shivered, unable to look away from my eyes. "No," she whispered. "I'm not."
I pulled my hands down... the straining metallic cloth resisting a second, before coming free, pliant as any swimsuit now. And her breasts -- those magnificent breasts -- burst free of their confinement, exposed to my gaze. They were large, as everyone knew, but they had no sag whatsoever. Invulnerable skin didn't stretch, and immortal breasts didn't lose firmness, it seemed.
She was breathing again -- fast, and hard. Her eyes were wide as I slid her suit to her hips, and then traced my fingers back up her exposed ribs, teasing the underside of her breasts. My eyes were drawn back to hers as I slid my hands up, claiming the nipples and teasing them. Her eyes closed as she drank the sensation in, as I teased and massaged her.
I smiled a bit, and leaned forward. Her breath caught as she felt my lips on her nipple -- teasing, kissing, nipping lightly, and then drawing it into my mouth. My hands shifted behind her back even as I felt her lean back, arching. Offering. She was shivering now, these sensations entirely new to her as I claimed what was mine.
And then I kissed down her stomach, kneeling in front of her, gazing at her hips, still covered by the bunched up cloth.
She kept her eyes closed, her breath still hard. It came faster still when she felt me pull on her suit -- felt it slide off those hips, and down her legs, down to the floor, where I lifted one foot and then the other to have her step out of it.
I stood, picking up the suit. It was heavier than it looked -- like I said, almost like metal -- but it folded easily enough as I put it in the safe. I then closed and locked it. Oh, Diana could rip it open trivially, but this was symbolic. That part of her life was locked away, leaving her nude but for her silk-covered bracers and the lasso binding her hands over her head.
I turned and looked at her. Gazed at her beautiful form. There was a well trimmed strip of pubic hair just over her mons -- I suppose one needed a well attended bikini line when they wore a swimsuit into battle. Otherwise, her legs were shaven clean.
I knelt again, running my fingers on her outer thighs. I felt her shiver as I slid my hands behind her legs... and encouraged her to stand with them apart. I kissed an inner thigh, prompting a moan. Then I kissed the other side.
And then I kissed higher... and she almost choked out a soft "Hera."
I smiled, and began to tease, to kiss, to lick... I hardly needed to coax her clitoris out -- it was fully hard, and new to being stimulated. Her hygiene was impeccable, as you could imagine, which just made what I was doing all the sweeter. Her legs left the floor, and I realized she was floating now, muscles tensing and relaxing. I smiled at this, standing, pulling her to me, feeling her shudder as I brought her closer... closer... and over....
She cried out, her body twisting. I felt her strength, but for whatever reason it didn't threaten to injure me this time -- which was fortunate, since she was barely capable of thought as the orgasm ripped through her body -- more intense by far than the one I'd coaxed out of her at the door.
Finally, she went limp -- though her body still had no weight to speak of. Flight had its advantages, it seemed. I let her slide back down, kissing between her breasts up to her neck, then kissing her lips. She returned the kiss, her tongue willingly finding mine. I knew she could taste herself on my lips, and I felt her shiver with that too.
It was a promising beginning. But it was far from the end.
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Oathbound