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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.

And it's the greatest honor you can imagine, to be able to touch you like this, talk to you like this, fuck you like this. You're perfect, Diana, and you're mine.

Fuck, I'm so wet just thinking about it right now. I just want to fuck you for hours, until neither of us can move. Until you forget how to speak.

I'm not perfect, Kate Kane, but I am yours.

It feels like to keep my sanity, I'm going to need to feel your mouth on me before the day is out.

You are to me. In every way.

I think I need that, too. And you can have my mouth, my hands, my strap, anything your wanton little heart desires, Diana. I never tire of using you, and pleasing you, in all ways.

And you please me, in all ways. Honestly, you're like all of Themyscira at once.

I think that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, Diana. You really are too wonderful, my Wonder Woman.

[ Diana wants to say "I love you" with the same ease with which the thought arose, but it's not something to say over text.

Instead, she sends a short video, only a few seconds without any audio. In it, Diana is spread out, and entirely naked save for her tiara and bracelets. She presses two fingers to her lips to blow Kate a kiss, then directs those same two fingers downward, gliding between her slick folds, her eyes fluttering shut and lips parting to release a silent moan. ]

[ The words had lingered in Kate's mind, too, for more than a moment, but they're not quite there yet. Or are they? She isn't sure. Isn't sure what to call this.

But she needs more. So much more. She aches at the sight of Diana's body, naked and glorious, as she always does, parts of her clenching, throbbing. And so she returns fire, a video sent herself, shot over her shoulder at first to show the pale expanse of her back, scarred, muscular, totally bare, before she turns to slide a hand across her bared tits, down her stomach, down to sink beneath the hem of her black pants. That still hidden.

She winks, smirks, and cuts the video there. ]

[ Diana's tongue wets her lips as her eyes rake down every pixel of pale, bared skin. She does love to trace those scars with her fingertips, or her tongue. Then comes the sight of those perfect, perky breasts and the slip-south of her hand, and Diana can't help but sink both fingers into her clenching heat. ]

Call me. I want to hear your voice.

[ It's hard to turn down an offer like that. The only response Diana will get is the notification that Kate is calling her, and then the low, throaty sound of her voice on the other line. ]

Are you getting all kinds of desperate for me, princess?

[ Hera, that voice. It trembles all the way through Diana and causes something to tighten within her. There's something high and needy in Diana's whispered voice, markedly different from the usual broad, confident tone she uses in day-to-day life. ]

I'm always desperate for you, my Bat. Desperate...wet...wanting...

[ No, few would recognize the voice on the other line as Diana, and certainly not as the Wonder Woman. Gone is the strength, the confidence, the easy command that comes from honesty and power and royal blood. This is just a woman, aching with desire, aching to serve, and to be pleased.

And Kate loves it. Every whimper. ]

I can see that. Are you fucking yourself for me, Diana? Are your fingers stroking over that sopping wet cunt?

[ Diana's voice has drowned into something husky and heavy with pleading desperation; Hera, the things Kate Kane does to her... ]

I am...

[ Her fingers travel over the heat of her mound, becoming coated with thick wetness on each glide over. ] I'm rubbing myself...thinking of you, talking to you, looking at your pictures and wishing you were here, sitting atop my face or nipping at my breasts...devouring me...

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