Oathbound

WONDER WOMAN: OATHBOUND
by
Rubicon Cross

Chapter Three

Diana almost seemed half-asleep as I undid the lariat binding her hands and holding her up in the air. Completely nude now except for the silk wrapped around her bracers, and recovering from only her second orgasm with a man -- not to mention the symbolic stripping away of her identity and defenses -- she was overwhelmed. That was a good thing -- it meant I'd worked my way through a lot of the issues she had brought to our first weekend together -- but it also meant she had to be carefully managed now. I didn't want to give her too much of a chance to get defensive.

"How do you feel?" I asked her, lifting her up in my arms as she came free from the golden rope.

"Exhausted," she said. "Euphoric. I never...."

"Hm?"

"I never really thought it would be like that," she said. "Especially not with a--" She stopped herself, flushing slightly.

"Normal man?" I asked.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But you have to understand -- most of the men in my life are... well...."

"Legends?"

"Something like that."

"You don't think it would have been like that with one of them?"

She laughed -- a surprisingly easy laugh. Maybe stripping away her identity had given her license to accept what was going on without token resistance. "Are you kidding? If Cl-- Superman were doing that, there's no chance he'd tie me up and no way he'd have stripped me down like that. It would all be ever so fair and equitable without a hint of...."

"Dominance?" I offered.

She shrugged. "I don't have the words. Not yet. Anyway -- he would be asking if I were okay every three seconds. And Batman..." she shook her head, laughing. "I've tried to figure out what it would be like with Batman -- the only thing I'm sure of is it wouldn't be like what we just did."

I smiled, still holding her. I noticed she was unusually light -- having carried her unconscious body, I knew already she was heavy for her size and proportions. No doubt, her muscles and bones were denser than normal human ones, so naturally she'd be heavier as well. Which meant that consciously or not she was using her ability to fly to lighten my load. "I'm glad you liked it."

She opened her mouth, then closed it and looked away. I felt her tense, ever so slightly. There it was. That sense of resistance. That memory of how all this began. I had extorted her into swearing an oath by the River Styx, after all. An oath she could not break regardless of circumstance. All that had led to this. Admitting she liked it -- even if intellectually she knew she would have to relax to the situation -- would be tantamount to condoning what I'd done.

Which meant it was time to get back to work. She'd had a chance to recover -- at least enough to feel conflicted again -- which meant I could peel away more layers without causing a backlash.

Or so I hoped, anyway.

I set her on the couch, then stood up straight and stepped back, looking at her. She looked up, colored slightly, and lay back a touch on the couch. Again, posing just a touch -- self-conscious, but trying. That was something right there.

I stepped over to the cabinet that held my television. It was closed, right now, but was low enough to the floor that I could set up a small bar on top of it. I began pouring Glenfiddich into two glasses -- a finger for me, and three for Diana. I had no real idea if she'd be affected by alcohol in the first place, but I had to assume that even if she wasn't much of a drinker, her divine stamina would make it hard for her to feel even a buzz. And make no mistake -- I wanted her buzzed.

"What is it?" she asked, after I gave her her glass.

"Scotch," I said. "A pretty good Scotch at that." I sipped mine, feeling the light burn on my tongue.

"I don't drink," she said.

"You're telling me you didn't drink wine back on Themiscyra?" I asked, grinning.

She flushed. "Well, yes -- but that was different."

"I'm sure." I sipped again. "I won't force you to drink it...." I said lightly....

She frowned a touch. I'd struck a nerve, it seemed. Diana was by nature proud, after all. By giving her an out -- a slightly patronizing one at that -- I'd practically dared her to drink the scotch. Arching her eyebrow, she lifted it to her lips.

And promptly drank the glass dry, swallowing as quickly as she tipped it back.

I admit it, I goggled. "Are you sure you wanted to--"

And then the burn hit Diana, turning her slight smirk into a grimace as she leaned forward. "Hera," she gasped. "What in perdition--"

"Easy, easy," I said, having quickly set my own scotch down and leaning close, running a hand over her back.

"Why do people drink that?" she asked, taking deep breaths. "It's like drinking fire!"

"Well, they don't usually gulp it down!" I said. "Sipping it lets you enjoy the flavor and the burn without it blasting your guts all at once."

"I... whoa...." she blinked, rocking back slightly, and I watched a pinkness spread over her face down her neck as far as her shoulders and the top of her breasts. "I think I'm having an adverse reaction to this."

"Describe your symptoms," I said, drawing her closer. If she really were sick -- and that didn't seem likely to me -- I would want to support her.

"Vertigo, and a wave of sensation through my body. And..." she ran her fingers over her face. "I can't feel my face! Wait -- no, I can, but it takes it a moment--"

I chuckled.

"You think this is funny? What's wrong with me?"

I slipped a finger to Diana's jaw, turning it to face me. "Congratulations," I said to her. "You're buzzed."

"Buzzed?"

"Very mildly drunk."

"On just that?"

"Diana, a first time drinker downing that much scotch in one gulp would normally be puking her guts out. If I ever needed evidence you're superhuman, it's that you're just buzzed."

She stared at me, then giggled. Which proved she was buzzed, to my mind. Diana of Themiscyra doesn't giggle. "So, the fact that I can fly or lift your car over my head didn't tip it off, but my tolerance for cheap scotch--"

"Hey -- this isn't cheap!"

She laughed again, and I'll admit I laughed too. It was infectious.

And then we were kissing.

I felt her tense for a moment, even as I could smell a hint of the more-than-triple she'd thrown down on her breath. But then she relaxed into it. I slid my arm around her, encouraging her up onto my lap, and leaned back enough on the couch that we were nestled together. I took my time, exploring her mouth, my tongue and hers dancing, before lightly kissing around her lips and along her neck.

"Oh," she murmured as she shifted on my lap, feeling my erection through my pants, pressing up against her. Though she was still flushed from the scotch, I think she turned pinker then. Still so innocent.

And maybe that was what I was doing, that first weekend. I didn't think about it at the time, but looking back....

Look, I told you before. I was an English major. I studied a lot of poetry and prose and stuff that bored me and stuff that interested me. And then I went to work in a bookstore in a college area of Keystone. I know literature. And thinking back to that first night put me in mind of William Blake. One of his best known works are the Songs of Innocence and Experience -- setting the dividing line between the innocent and those who have knowledge of worldly things.

That's what I was doing. Diana -- Wonder Woman, a Goddess of Truth, Amazon Warrior and superheroine -- was an innocent in her own sexuality. I was breaking that innocence down, and making her experienced.

Maybe that meant I was taking her innocence. Maybe that meant I was defiling her. I can see someone thinking that, certainly. But for my money, I was giving her something.

But then, I would think that, wouldn't I?

Regardless, she had stopped moving when she felt my erection. She had a little more tension in her body again, too. I smiled, just a touch, leaning to kiss her neck, then along her jaw. I moved under her, pressing up deliberately, and drawing another gasp from her. I pulled her back, causing her to lean back on me, one arm around her, pressing on her abdomen, the other sliding up to tease her breast.

She leaned back, mouth open, and breathed harder. She was looking straight up, feeling me feel her, her body responding to the stimulus. Her muscles flexed and relaxed, and her hips rocked slightly atop me, pressing rhythmically against my penis through the pants.

"Tell me something," I murmured into her ear, continuing to tease her.

"...what?" she said, almost too softly to be heard.

"Are you on any form of birth control?"

She shivered, closing her eyes. Even with the sexual contact we'd already had, nothing made what was happening quite as real as the simple, practical question. "Yes," she whispered. "It... seemed prudent when I became a public figure."

"Good," I murmured. I kissed behind her ear again. "So you know?"

"...yes?"

"I got myself tested after our first meeting, and don't have any other sexual partners. I'm disease free." It was true. I had the results if she wanted to see them -- I'd also picked up condoms, mind, in case she wasn't protected. I'll admit, the thought of impregnating Wonder Woman with her coerced cooperation was a turn-on, but some fantasies should be just that.

She breathed in sharply as I pushed up with my hips, punctuating my statement. Her muscles tensed. God, she felt good. Her skin was so smooth. Her breasts were firm, but still yielded to the touch. She even smelled good. Floral, with a hint of musk.

"I... don't know if I'm ready for this," she whispered, as I continued my massage. "I...."

"Slide down to the floor, Diana," I said, softly but firmly. "Kneel."

She shivered at my words. The terms of the oath she'd sworn were clear -- she had to indulge me in these things. Still, she was conscious of what my demand meant, and she was reluctant.

"Kneel, Diana."

Slowly, her eyes closed, she slipped off my lap to the floor, and knelt more or less between my legs, back-to me.

I watched her. Other than her nudity, she looked a lot like she did that night she was half-crazed from Poison Ivy's attack. However, this time she was composed. Eyes closed, skin flushed, but her bearing still proud. Her head wasn't bowed, though her eyes were still closed.

I stood, stepping aside, and picked up the golden lasso. Kneeling next to her, I began to wrap it around her body. As I said once before, I used to have a girlfriend into bondage, including Japanese rope binding. I knew what I was doing, as I wrapped it around her body, under her breasts and then over the top, around her neck but slack so it couldn't choke her even if she strained. Around her thighs, so she couldn't extend her legs. Around her waist. I bound her arms behind her body, and had her clasp her hands before I bound them too.

And she shivered, her flesh goosebumping again, and moaned softly the more I bound her. She'd admitted before that she liked the feeling of the ropes. And I knew from what else she said that the idea of being bound -- of having her choice tangibly stripped away -- was erotic for her. She was Wonder Woman, whether I stripped her of her identity or not, and part of her would always resist compromising that if it could. By binding her -- especially with this rope, which compelled truth from her -- I could liberate that part of her mind.

At the end, I looked at her. She seemed even more nude than before, though the gold of the lariat glittered all over her body. "Diana," I said softly, standing in front of her.

Her eyes slowly opened, and she looked up at me. She was nervous, I could tell. But I also saw something else in her eyes, and her expression. Defiance, yes -- her will wasn't broken. Nor was I trying to break it. But also desire. Lust.

Hunger.

I began to slowly undress, unbuttoning the cuffs of my deep red dress shirt, then untucking it and working on my pants. She watched me bare my legs, then slowly undo the front of my shirt. She was breathing a touch faster as I slipped it off. I don't pretend to be in the kind of shape the men in her life normally are, but I'm not unattractive, and given the situation she liked what she saw. She might have tried to hide it, but the lasso wouldn't have let her. Like I said, the one time she bound me in it, I'd just felt the concept of deception -- of holding things back -- just vanish completely. So it was for Diana, now. And the truth was, she wanted this.

She wanted me.

If you think for one moment having Wonder Woman look at you with desire isn't the biggest ego rush on the planet, you're nuts.

Finally, trying hard not to tremble myself -- I admit it, I was nervous as Hell -- I slid off my boxers and stood upright.

She looked me up and down, her eyes slightly hooded. She swallowed. "What happens now?" she asked.

I walked over to her. Leaning, I traced her hair -- our earlier play had messed it up, and it looked wild now -- like the mane of a lion. I encouraged her to shift, and felt her rise off the floor almost unconsciously. Having had some experience with bondage, I knew that no matter how intense it might be, it was often just awkward as you planned and arranged the bound partner. You have no idea how much easier it is with a woman who can fly. I moved back to the couch, and sat down, Diana between my legs again -- but this time facing me.

I could see the nervousness and fear warring with the hunger and lust in her face, more clearly now than before. Everything we'd done up until that point she'd allowed to happen to her. She'd allowed me to touch her at the door. She'd allowed me to strip her and then bring her to an intense orgasm. She'd allowed me to kiss her, to touch her, and to bind her.

But she knew what she had to do next... and it meant crossing a line for her. It meant becoming an active participant.

It meant surrendering more of her innocence.

I leaned back, and waited. Expectantly. Of course, I wanted her to take this next step without direct prompting, and I wasn't sure that would happen....

The seconds ticked by... and then slowly... ever so slowly... she leaned forward. I felt her lips brush against my penis, felt them part, and felt her tongue touch it. And then I felt her slide her mouth over the head of it, drawing it in, teasing it slightly.

It was amazing. I shivered -- I couldn't help myself -- and she looked up, meeting my eyes. I held her gaze for a long moment... until she closed her eyes again, and slowly drew more of the shaft in. Taking her time. Getting used to this new thing. Surrendering innocence to this new experience.

She gagged slightly, then adjusted. I thought I'd have to guide her, but she either had done some reading or was just naturally talented. She was, after all, superhuman. And then I felt the length of it slide in, and she sucked gently, mming softly.

I half-closed my eyes as she began to bob her head, bringing her tongue back into play. I wanted to close them all the way and relish the feeling, but I also wanted to see every moment of this. It was intense and electric. I can't tell you how long it lasted -- save that it couldn't have been that long, given how erotic it felt and how much I'd dreamed of it before that night. What surprised me most was how much Diana seemed to enjoy it -- like having taken that step had broken through her resistance and let her relish being a sexual being.

Or maybe I'm nuts -- I have to admit I wasn't being impartial. Wonder Woman was sucking me off, and it felt amazing, and if I'm getting the details wrong after the fact it's because my mind was being blown.

Finally, I moaned out a warning. There was no holding back. Diana slid herself back about halfway up the shaft and sucked, and I exploded. It felt like my legs would shatter from the intensity of it.

Slowly... ever so slowly... my breath came back. I had softened by now, at least somewhat, but Diana was still using her tongue on it. It was extra-sensitive, the way such things were after climax, so I touched my fingers to her face and leaned her back.

She looked up at me, and very slowly arched an eyebrow. Not defeated. Not docile.

Not finished.

"Do you want something to drink?" I asked, slightly horsely.

"Something else, you mean?" She said, her lips quirking into a smile.

I nodded, smiling myself. "Some water, maybe--"

"Not water," she said. Her smile grew, her eyes growing somewher between naughty and defiant. "The scotch."

I smiled at that, and leaned down to pick my almost untouched glass off the floor. I shifted next to her, and lifted it to her lips this time. "Sip," I said. "And hold it in your mouth. Feel the burn, then swallow."

She did, closing her eyes after sipping -- still more than I expected. She held and then swallowed, and then shivered.

"How do you feel?" I asked, knowing she couldn't hold anything back.

"Thrilled. Scared. Excited." She opened her eyes. "Very excited."

The words put a shiver down my spine, and I felt myself growing hard again, despite the intensity of what we'd just done. "You said you didn't feel ready, before."

"I don't feel ready," she said. "That doesn't mean I'm not excited, Tom."

"Horny," I said softly.

"Excuse me?"

"The word is 'horny.' Well, one of the words."

"That seems... crass."

"It is. It's crass, it's vulgar, and it's informal. We've sucked each other off, Diana. At the very least, we can be crass, vulgar and informal with each other. Are you horny, Diana?"

She looked up at me, smiling again. Feeling wicked, perhaps. "Yes," she said, her voice lowered a touch. "I'm horny."

"Good." I slid off the couch, encouraging Diana to slide back onto her back with a gasp.

The way she was tied up meant that she was lying on her hands, which wouldn't be incredibly comfortable for most people but given her durability I expected she wouldn't care. Certainly, she responded to me hungrily running my hands over her skin, her breath growing fast and ragged as I took her breast into my mouth again. And of course, with her legs bound so that her knees were fully bent, she had to let them fall open to permit my closeness.

Which meant she was spread wide.

I leaned up, looking her up and down. Seeing the glisten along the folds of her vulva, the neatly trimmed hair above it. Seeing her breasts, the golden ropes above and below them, pillowing to the sides as only large, natural breasts could. Seeing her hair spread back behind her and over her head, like black fire.

Seeing her eyes. Her fear. Her hunger.

I moved over her, shifting my weight onto my arms on either side of her. She felt me position, touching myself to her.

Diana's breath caught, her eyes on mine.

I pressed down. I pressed in. I slid hilt-deep in a single thrust, feeling her hot, wetness yield to and accept me, gripping me tightly as I took her. Her eyes grew wide as she accepted, and I felt her hips push up to meet me. Not just being taken -- offering. Giving.

I was a little surprised I hadn't found resistance -- I knew she was a virgin from questioning her before (assuming she hadn't taken some other lover since then, and honestly the way the rest of the night had gone I doubted that), and I'll admit I'd wondered if I'd have a problem with a nigh-unbreakable hymen. But there hadn't been anything like that.

I held for a long moment, letting her acclimate. Letting myself acclimate too -- despite having just come, I could have shot off again the moment I thrust into her if I didn't take it easy. Then, after a long moment I began to move. Slowly at first, then faster. Her hips moved to meet me, and I felt her body moving as well -- pulling at the bonds that held her tightly, reacting to the sensations that tore through her body. "...Hera..." she swore, her eyes half closed. I sped up and she swore again, and then again, until a quiet litany of greco-roman deities issued from her mouth as I thrust down into her. Faster I went -- driving down and in, meeting her -- holding on lest this super strong goddess hurl me off or crush me in her passion.

With a scream, I felt her vagina spasm around me and she came -- long and hard. I held inside her, pressing down atop her and looking at her closed eyes as she cried out with it.

Finally she began to relax again--

And I thrust in and out, causing her eyes to fly open and a new cry to escape her lips. I kissed her fiercely as I drove down, and she moaned in my mouth as her body spasmed and another orgasm built and released. I thrust through this one, leading a third to trigger before the second could end, and then a stream of orgasms as she bucked against me, her body writhing with passions and endorphins and feelings that she'd never felt, until finally I drove hard, unable to hold back a second longer, and came hard, her body receiving my seed hungrily.

I might have passed out for a moment or two. Either way, I gradually became aware of her kissing the side of my face. I turned to look at her. There were damp trails from her eyes, but she didn't look sad. She looked....

Well, she looked happy.

I kissed her, and she returned the kiss. Soft instead of frantic.

"How do you feel?" I asked, after lying with her for some time.

"...I'm not sure the words exist," she said, her voice a touch breathy. "My whole body is relaxed and it all feels... feels good."

"Good," I said. "We must have done it right."

She giggled again, and then returned the kiss I gave her. "How about you," she asked. "How do you feel?"

"Astounded. I'm not sure this isn't a dream."

"It's not," she said. "It's real. Remember, I've been bound by the Lasso of Truth. You can trust what I say."

I smiled at that. "Speaking of which -- are you okay with that? After a while, it can cut off your circulation or cramp muscles."

She chuckled softly. "I told you the last time you had me tied up like this -- I can go hours with tons of weight pressing down on me. You're not that heavy, and my muscles don't cramp."

"Ever?"

"Ever." She considered. "But you may need to release me soon anyhow. I do sort of have to pee."

I grinned. "I think we can arrange that."

"But not yet," she said. "I'd like to...."

"To what?"

"I'd like to just... savor this. I'll never be deflowered again. It seems like I shouldn't rush the moment."

"That makes sense. Though -- about being deflowered--"

Diana laughed. "Is someone disappointed he didn't get to pop Wonder Woman's cherry?"

"'Pop your cherry?' What happened to 'crass?'"

"Crass seems appropriate after what we just did. We should indulge in crass." She closed her eyes, resting her head on the floor again. "My hymen ruptured when I was an adolescent, during rather intense horseback training. It would be some years before my superhuman abilities would fully manifest. Honestly, I'm just as glad."

"Me too." I leaned down and kissed her throat.

"Tom?" she said, after a long moment.

"Yes?"

"Will it always be like this?" She sounded wistful, just then.

I leaned up, and looked at her. "No," I said. "Sometimes it'll be worse. And sometimes it'll be better."

She considered that for a moment, then nodded. "And now I need to pee."

I laughed, sliding off her and helping her sit up. It took a few minutes to untie her, before she floated into the bathroom and shut the door.

I looked at the golden rope in my hands, sitting on the couch. Still naked, mind, and I felt... well, I felt pretty amazing. But still... she wasn't the only one who'd crossed lines. I was committed now. I'd extorted Wonder Woman into swearing an unbreakable oath, and whether or not she liked it, I'd then used it to strip her, molest her, seduce her and deflower her. There was no going back from that.

She came out of the bathroom then, striding back into the living room. It struck me again, just how much of a presence Diana was. Six feet or something like it and the most powerful woman on the planet, and when she walked she looked it. Even nude as she was, she didn't look weak or defenseless. She looked like she could take on Darkseid and win.

I stood up. "So, what did you bring with you for clothing?" I asked.

She paused, and her cheeks colored slightly. "Just a couple of things," she said. "I didn't really think about it. I...."

"Hm?"

"I don't generally pack clothes when I go out in full regalia."

"Did you bring anything?" I frowned slightly. We'd need to supply Diana with clothes, it seemed to me.

"Well, yes. Hold on." She went over to the front door, and retrieved the duffel she'd brought in with her. Carrying it to the couch, she unzipped it. She pulled out a rather utilitarian white sport bra and panties, a set of grey sweatpants, a white tee shirt, and a bundle of red cloth.

I arched an eyebrow at the latter. "What's that?" I asked.

She flushed a bit more. "It's... something we wear on Themiscyra. It... seemed appropriate to the occasion."

"May I see?"

She unbundled the cloth. Inside, it had been holding what looked like red slippers with ribbons that would be tied up her legs. The cloth itself turned out to be a loose blood red toga, designed to pin at both shoulders, trimmed in gold, with gold cords that held it in place.

I smiled at that. "You're right," I said. "Still, that's not a lot of clothing for the weekend. Wouldn't you have needed more clothes than that?"

"I have my armor," she said. "At least before you put it in the safe."

"What about when that gets dirty?"

"It doesn't."

I arched an eyebrow. "It doesn't get dirty? Come on."

She rolled her eyes. "He can accept women who can fly, but the idea of a magical garment that never gets dirty? Now that's too much to swallow."

I snorted. "Fine," I said. "Well, there's nothing to be done for it. We'll have to get you some clothes tomorrow."

She blinked. "You mean... go outside?"

"Well, yeah. I don't think we can get same day delivery off of Amazon."

She flushed a touch. "I... assumed...."

"What?"

"I assumed we'd stay in."

"You assumed you wouldn't need to be seen with me," I said, maybe a touch more flatly than I meant.

She furrowed her brow. "I assumed that given the... nature of our weekends together, and the reasons for them, you wouldn't want to call unnecessary attention to them."

I looked at her for a long moment, then looked away. "Yeah, well. You assumed wrong. Anyway -- you've got enough civilian clothes that I think we can get away with it."

"Civ-- oh. Oh."

I glanced back at her. She was looking away, a touch flustered. "What?" I asked, maybe more sharply than I should.

"I... had thought you meant you wanted to go out... with me in uniform. To be seen... with Wonder Woman."

"You thought I wanted to show off?"

She looked back, eyebrow arched. "Are you telling me you don't want to show me off? It's not like I can refuse to go. Not during these weekends."

I looked at her for a long moment.

She held my gaze, not backing off.

"No," I said, quietly. "I don't intend to show you off. You're not a fucking trophy."

She held gaze for a long moment. "My apologies," she said. "I shouldn't have assumed." She didn't change her position, and certainly didn't sound apologetic.

"Yeah, well. I can see why you did." I took a deep breath. "I'm going to grab a soda. Do you want something?"

"Yes... yes please. A soda would be nice. More Sprite, if you have it."

I nodded and stepped around her, heading into the kitchen. I admit it, I was pissed off. At the same time, it's not like I could blame her. For a few minutes, I could pretend that the intense moments we'd shared had made everything good between us. I could pretend that she'd consented to all of this, not been coerced. I grabbed a couple of Sprites and diverted into my bedroom, so I could grab a bathrobe. And then I headed back into the living room--

And stopped dead in my tracks.

Diana had put on the red shift. As I thought, it fastened on her shoulders, the gold highlighting along her neck where it draped. A golden cord pulled it tight to her waist, and caused it to be closer to a dress than a poncho. The slippers were on her feet, and their ribbons had been painstakingly tied up her calves, crisscrossing several times before being tied into a bow. It was loose, naturally, but had been pulled tight enough to more than suggest the breasts it concealed, her nipples visible through the fabric. The train was low enough to preserve her modesty, but a sharp wind would change that. She'd apparently run a brush through her hair, and the silk of the wrappings over her bracers even matched the color moderately well.

And she stood, arms akimbo, hips slightly angled, legs parted. "Still," she said, her voice lower than before. "I assume that tonight we're staying... in?"

I stared at her, my eyes moving up and down, before I nodded. "That time you assume right," I said.

She had the barest of smiles on her lips as she reached over, arching slightly and bending over, plucking one of the sodas out of my hand. "That's what I thought," she said, and straightened back up.