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Maybe I should come to Gotham a few nights before the event; convince you to attend. Oh, and give you your underwear back, of course.

How thoughtful of you. Any ideas on how you might convince me, Diana?

I was thinking I might do something...unsubtle. Right now there's an internal debate between lassoing you to ask if you want to go with me, or persuading you by sliding my arms around you from behind...kissing, tasting your neck...

Well, I know which one sounds more fun to me. But, mm, when I feel your lips on my skin, it tends to make me lose control, Diana, don't you know that? I'm liable just to drag you into my bed and do all kinds of wicked things.

In bed is where I do my best persuasion. What manner of wicked things did you have in mind?

You know, we may not have to go to the manor. Then again, Wayne Manor has a lot of rooms...

Oh, I know it is, princess. And I can't wait to feel you convince me. With your fingers, your mouth, your body quivering under me as you beg for more...

It certainly does, and it's tempting to fuck you in every one of them. Make sure they're well and truly broken in.

I'll be making a very thorough argument; moving my body against yours, cradling your head to my breasts, sliding my hand down that taut stomach to tease you into wetness...

I think we should give into that temptation, vigorously and frequently. I suppose I won't need underwear beneath my dress; I can't wait to sway and dance with you, only to slip off into some other room and see if you're able to muffle your moans as I set you on the nearest flat surface and bury my face between those pale, powerful legs I enjoy so much...

You're always thorough, princess, and you never leave me disappointed. Or able to argue with you much at all. I feel like I only get the better hand when I manage to tie you down.

Oh, you should never be wearing underwear around me, Diana, haven't you learned that by now? I want to be able to bend you over and finger you, taste you, fuck you at any moment I like.

To be fair, it's hard for anyone to argue when their mouth is full, and I always feel the urge to fill your mouth the moment I see you. With my tongue, my breasts, my cunt...I blame you for having such soft, perfect lips and such an addictive, lightning-bolt tongue.

Of course. I'm yours; yours to take at a moment's notice. I could be on stage in front of people and if I saw you mouth a command from the audience, I'd drop everything to join you without a single excusing word. When we go to the party (presuming I've persuaded you) I want to be dripping down my thighs before the night's halfway over...

I can't help it that you're so perfectly addicting. I just love how you taste, how you feel, and fuck, you're so damn perfect I want to worship every inch of you. Appreciate you. The muscles in your arms, and in those sculpted thighs, and your abs. Your flawless lips. Your amazing tits. Your cunt that just tastes so much better than it should.

I know you are, and it makes me the luckiest woman to ever live to have a goddess like you to enjoy. So don't you worry, Diana. I'll repay the favor by fucking you good all night long. Maybe we'll take a nice car to the party, so I can throw your legs over my shoulders in the back seat and make a mess of you before we even get there.

You have me blushing, Kate Kane. I hope you know how much I want and need you; I hope you can feel it in the rake of my nails and the tug of my lips and the depth of my moans. I hope you can taste it on my tongue and in the slick wet of my cunt. I'm the lucky one, Kate Kane, because I kissed you on a rooftop and you kissed me right back like you'd been preparing for it all night.

That sounds perfect...spread out in the backseat, my legs hooked over your shoulders, my dress pushed up...would it be from the moment we get in the car? Pull over on the way? Do it in Bruce's driveway?

I can certainly guess, since I need you just about as badly as I need oxygen, Diana. Maybe more. And maybe I had been, or at least hoping. You don't often get a chance to stand beside a goddess like you. It's even more rare you get to kiss her. I had to make sure I did it right.

We can just get a driver. Throw up the tinted glass, play some music, so you can moan to your heart's content while I eat that perfect cunt like you deserve all the way to Wayne Manor. I want your legs to feel like jelly when you're walking in, and your juices running down your thighs as you smile and make conversation.

Hera. You certainly know how to speak to a girl, Kate Kane. I'm already frustrated that I'm not standing next to you right now...or that you're not in my lap.

I'll have to be careful not to let my mouth slip and say something about how perfectly you eat me out directly to a Fox cousin or the like. I can't wait to be spread out in the back for you, Kate Kane; ready and trembling with anticipation...and then again, at the Manor. And again.

The feeling is mutual. The next time I see you, I may not come up for air for hours. Or let you do the same. I haven't decided yet.

Of course not, we have to protect that Wonder Woman image. They'll never know that you're just a desperate little mess when I get my hands on you. That you're mine to play with, however I please.

Or both at once, perhaps. If we don't end up distracting one another so we just end up moaning into each other's cunts...

Yours. To everyone else, I'm Wonder Woman. I've stopped runaway trains, saved crashing planes, prevented wars, battled Gods. But to you, I'm Diana: your eager little whore, hungry for your body and desperate for you to make a mess of me.

You are something irresistible. As much as I love riding your face, it's so hard not to return the favor sometimes.

Imagine if they could see, the great and powerful Wonder Woman nothing but a filthy, needy, eager little slut. It's adorable, you know, when you're on your knees for me, mewling like a kitten. How could I not want to own you? Or ruin you.

I would hate for you to ever resist me. I've never met someone who makes me feel so fully devoured; you eat me with such hunger, such want, sometimes I think you'd spend hours down there if the mood took you...making me cum over and over, turning me into a trembling, lust-addled mess of a woman.

There are times when I'm on my knees, begging for you, kissing your thighs, eager to feel your taste on my tongue...and in those moments, I'm not sure I'd stop pleading if the entire Justice League walked in on us. I'm not sure I'd even look in their direction when you're permitting me to please you.

Maybe I would. Because I haven't been trying to resist you since this started, Diana, and I have no intention of starting now. As long as you want to give yourself to me, you beautiful, perfect, sinful woman, I'm going to keep taking you, over and over again.

Good girl, princess. You know the most important thing is pleasing me. Serving me. Using that mouth how it was meant to be used, and offering yourself up to me on a silver platter. To please me, and be fucked by me, and most importantly to be owned by me.

[ Diana feels the urge -- the schoolgirl urge -- to ask Kate if they're girlfriends, exclusive girlfriends. It's not something she's going to say over text, but Hera, it does feel like that's where they are anyway.

It's maybe something to talk about at Wayne Manor...or the car ride over. If they can keep their hands off each other long enough to say something that isn't a moan for more. ]

I truly can't see a future where I don't want to give myself to you, where I don't want to take you, where I don't want to kiss you, touch you, be seen with you.

I love being your good girl. My mouth was made for your cunt, your cunt. Shall I wear a collar for you? Does it drive you crazy to know just how powerful I am, and just how weak you make me? Because I can barely stand the intensity of it, sometimes; the way you make me feel, how vigorously you fuck me...

[ And if she had, Kate might have laughed, simply because of how darling it would be. To her, they're already somewhere past simply being "girlfriends." There's an intensity, a passion, to their relationship that is difficult to name.

And Kate wouldn't give it up for anything. ]

Then I hope such a future never comes, Diana, because I don't want it either.

God, you know just how to make me ache, don't you? You are such a good girl, such a good little slut for me. People would be shocked if they knew half the things that came out of those perfect lips, or half the things those perfect lips had eagerly done for me. Maybe you should wear a collar for me, to show everyone that no matter how strong you are, how brave, how good, how perfect, you're such a hot, obedient little toy when I get my hands on you. When I fuck you. When I own you, every day.

Hera, I want nothing else than to be yours, Kate Kane. Your slut. Your whore. Your cunt-hungry, on-her-knees, collar-wearing pet. Not one of them would believe it, how you make me feel, how you make me beg, how you invade my dreams so I awake sweating and slick and wishing I woke to your mouth on mine, our legs interlocked.

See how wet I am?

[ Diana knows just how much it'll turn Kate on to see the contrast; her, in those (in)famous star-spangled "panties" (as they're called and which she hasn't worn in favor of a more functional skirt for some time) with her fingers gliding along the damp patch her Batwoman is responsible for. An iconic aspect of Wonder Woman, soaked through with desperate lust. ]

No, they'd never believe that the strong, beautiful, perfect Wonder Woman could ever be such a depraved and powerless little slut for me, could they? That all I have to do is look at you the right way, or grab the hair at the base of your skull, or your chin, and turn you into a mewling little kitten.

Fuck, you're a mess. I can't wait to fuck you, Diana, and feel that hot, eager mouth on me. You're going to eat me so good, and I'm going to make you come until you can't see straight. Until you can't even move.

You are mine, and I'm not letting you go anywhere.

I love how sweet and rough you can be all at once; calling me beautiful and perfect in one breath, and a depraved slut in another. And you're right; with you, I'm powerless. By now, I can just see the light in your eyes shift into something lusty, something commanding, and I feel myself weaken with want, and I almost drop to my knees with lips parted before you utter a word.

I can't wait either...my mouth, sweeping over the lengths, the curves, the bends of your body...delving deep, tasting you, savoring you, pleading for more not with words but with the desperate stretch of my tongue to reach deeper...

Good, because I'm not going anywhere.

It's nice to feel powerless, isn't it? Because you can be, with me. You can give in. Relax. Be weak. Just let me hold you, and take care of you, and use you, and fuck you until you can't even move, my princess. Until you're a complete and total mess for me. Boneless. Mindless. Satisfied.

I'll always keep you safe. Even when I hurt you, even when I make you beg and ache and whine. Always.

You just keep being my good girl.

That's all I want: to be your good girl, your princess, yours to hold, to touch, to fuck, to use. There's no one else in my entire life who I'd have even considered letting treat me in such a way, but you...you make everything perfect.

It's like I've needed this forever without quite knowing it, and I've needed it from you, and only you. Like a recipie mastered by only one person.

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