The Princess of Themyscira

Copyright 2017 Matt Nicholson. All rights reserved.

Disclaimer - This story's chock full of hard breast punishment. As a result of red kryptonite exposure, Superman's inhibitions are gone and Wonder Woman and her lovely breasts become his targets - not that she really minds. In any case, it's a tale of cutting loose and wish-fulfillment that plays fast and loose with the whole "safe, sane, and consensual" thing. So, if tit torment's not your thing, then please have fun with someone else's stories. Otherwise, enjoy and let me know what you think. Best! ~Matt~

*

It was supposed to have been a celebration.

The President of the United States had given each of them gifts -- ruby encrusted rings of yellow gold, each engraved with their respective emblems. Diana thought the gaudy rings looked rather like the professional sporting championship jewelry she had seen being worn at high-level social events by the sports heroes of man's world. However, instead of sports symbols, hers bore an eagle. Bruce's bore his bat, and Kal's bore the universally recognizable inverted triangle surrounding a stylized "S".

Almost everyone believed the symbol was simply the first initial of a name given to him by his deceased wife decades earlier, back when she had been a crusading reporter for The Daily Planet and Kal had been a mystery for Lois to solve.

The triangled "S" was actually the patriarchal crest of a family long dead, killed forty-three years earlier along with a planet thousands of light-years distant. The planet had been called "Krypton." His family name was "El." The crest was actually a symbol of hope. The world knew Kal-El as "Superman."

The "Freedom Rings", as the President had so tritely dubbed them, were their reward for the mostly peaceful elimination of a terrorist organization called "The Islamic State." They had managed to elude the highly trained and technologically superior armed forces of the empirical United States and other countries for almost two decades after the world's largest terror event on September 11, 2001.

Diana knew the ceremony was just another excuse for the politicians to grandstand with the three most well-known heroes their Earth had known. Bruce thought the same. But then Bruce suspected everyone's motives. The surprise reaction had come from Kal.

Superman seldom said anything bad about anyone, even during his and her private conversations in the calm of space outside the Justice League's orbiting satellite. But, during a chat only the day before, his tone -- and the impatient way he'd flicked his wrist while flinging space rocks like marbles to explode against passing asteroids -- told her he was more than a little frustrated. Having to participate in yet another ceremony designed to make this particular President more popular in the American polls was irritating even to The Man of Steel.

Yet, despite his inner distaste, Kal insisted they participate. Adopted as an infant and raised by salt-of- the-Earth farmers after his space ship's fiery crash into the heart of the young country, "Truth, Justice, and The American Way" had been his slogan for decades. Even though the Amazons had all but adopted the United States of America as a project, she always blanched at "The American Way" part.

"The Justice League of America" had long since dropped the "of America" descriptor, wisely choosing to be heroes of the world as "The Justice League." Yet, Kal always remained true to the land he called home, regardless of the obvious fact that the U.S.A. wasn't always representative of a global perspective. Diana feared that, eventually, Kal's naïve disregard of his gut in favor of being politically correct might well cost them their lives.

As far as the current crisis was concerned, she highly doubted the President had known the stone in Kal's ring wasn't ruby. As unscrupulous as she thought the man, deliberately turning the planet's most powerful being into a drunken juggernaut served no purpose. In all likelihood, someone the President considered an ally had offered the rings as a gift. The President had gladly accepted, with dreams of a public relations coup dancing in his eyes. Whomever the ring's original holder, he or she had likely planned for exactly what was happening, having easily played the U.S. President for a pawn. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time.

They called the radioactive rock "red kryptonite." It was a fragment of Kal-El's obliterated planet. Unlike its green-colored cousin, this variety didn't make him weak or kill him; it just made him very ill-mannered and deadly. The moment Superman slipped the ring onto his finger and the brief tell-tale red pulse bulged though the veins in his hands, she regretted not having checked the ring as she'd planned. Thoughts of Cassandra's failure to act on her suspicions over the Trojan horse came to mind. Diana hoped the results of her own inaction wouldn't be similar. They'd blamed the fall of Troy on the women, too.

Once the gift's alcohol-like effects radiated through Kal's veins, and his unrestrained opinion of the President became known, she and Bruce had no choice but to join battle against the Kryptonian. Even though Diana's opinion secretly mirrored Superman's newfound candor, it wouldn't have been seemly to let him kill the most prominent leader of the free world on public television.

Almost always at Kal's side, especially since the death of his wife several years past, she'd been the first to react. While Batman took aggressive glee in knocking Secret Service agents out of harm's way, Wonder Woman tried talking Superman down. In response, he'd simply grabbed the stylized golden eagle's wing that covered her left breast and swung her around by it like a dervish. Then, with a twist of his wrist that tore a quarter of her supposedly impervious uniform free, he'd sent her careening backward through the air for almost a mile.

By the time she'd done her meager best to cover her freshly bared breast, straightened her tiara, and returned, Bruce had managed to dodge out of Kal's reach long enough to activate the Justice League's emergency transmitter and was tugging the second of two glowing green gloves into place. Diana frowned at the need for kryptonite, but she couldn't argue the point.

In the distance, flying, running, or otherwise moving in low and fast, she saw their super-powered reinforcements coming. Bruce made it back to the Man of Steel just moments before her, throwing a spinning back fist that was technically perfect. The green kryptonite reinforced glove smashed Kal's nose, drawing blood rarely seen since the days of the monster Doomsday. Superman dropped the President long enough to turn on his black-cowled friend. Kal wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand and grinned like a drunken bar fighter. The delay gave Diana just enough time to get in and let her fist fly.

He stopped a blow that could have shattered titanium dead, three inches from his face. Then, while leering at the bare breast she couldn't keep from bouncing, he grabbed the remaining golden eagle wing. He'd always been scrupulously careful when doing battle with women, and, to the best of her flawless memory, had never even torn a leotard.

In the next instant, he twisted his wrist hard and down, laying her other breast bare and ripping most of the rest of her bodice away. After a knowing look and a throaty laugh, both as unlike him as his actions, he missiled off in the direction of the incoming heroes, leaving her hovering in shock like some topless mortal trollop.

For a second, she could only blink. It was so unlike him, and so like some of the fantasies she'd never have admitted to, that it left her stunned. Shaking it off, she left most of her shock with the tattered shreds of her uniform top and sped after him, saving just enough irritation to help her focus.

She watched as Green Lantern and Supergirl split right while Power Woman split left. Captain Marvel, colloquially known as "The World's Mightiest Mortal" -- and most likely the nearest thing to an even match for Superman that existed -- continued down the center. It was a basic flanking maneuver, one they'd all practiced together many times, and since one flank was weaker, she moved that way to reinforce the left.

Unfortunately -- and contrary to popular belief -- none of them were truly invulnerable. Superman was well aware of each of their limits. Regardless of alien physiology, magical enhancement, telekinetic skill, enhanced technology, paranormal gifts, or superior training, even the strongest among them could be hurt, though some less easily than others. She knew they were in trouble when he blurred forward and all but disappeared, moving into a speed zone beyond them all. He slowed only long enough to punch though Lantern's glowing green shield and body slam him into senselessness.

After indulging in nearly every Earth male's longstanding dream of tearing Power Woman's controversial cleavage window apart and baring the largest pair of super-human breasts known, he snatched both Power Woman and Supergirl by their capes and cratered Central Park with their careening bodies. Diana supposed she should have been grateful he hadn't decided to tear his younger cousin's uniform apart, too.

Then, to everyone's surprise, he turned and shot away from Captain Marvel, past Diana, and straight at the President. She should have guessed what he planned as soon as she realized he'd let them all see him turn.

The United States' leader was dangling from his suit collar five stories from the park turf before either she or Captain Marvel could act. Kal ignored her and smiled cruelly at Marvel.

"You know what to say, Billy."

Captain Marvel hovered forward and Kal-El relaxed his fingers. As the President started to free fall, Superman moved to block both the Amazon Princess and the World's Mightiest Mortal.

"The word's 'Shazam,' Billy."

Despite having Solomon's wisdom, Hercules' strength, Atlas' stamina, Zeus' power, Achilles' courage, and Mercury's speed, Captain Marvel was still only Billy Batson, an adolescent teenager given a super man's powers by an even wider variety of gods than Diana was familiar with.

The burly hero hesitated for only a second, and then spoke his magic word, "Shazam!"

A deafening thunderbolt split the air, bathing Captain Marvel in its magical glare, turning a super man nearly Kal's equal into a child. At that same instance, Superman blurred. Billy Batson was unconscious before his eyes cleared, felled by a light thump on the head from the Kryptonian fist. A second later, the President was safely on the ground, with only bruised buttocks and grass-stained slacks as evidence of his indignity. A second after that, Batson's body hit the grass. The President, still stunned but thankful that Superman had opted against assassination for the moment, stood and brushed his rear.

The Man of Steel looked from the humiliated world leader at the topless Amazon. His leer came with a dose of heat vision that followed his eyes as quickly as they moved. The red beams rakes across her breasts, sizzling over one nipple and then hovering over the second before she could block the beams with her bracelets and move from their path. Though the pain wasn't intolerable, it still hurt, though it wasn't anything she wouldn't have gladly enjoyed under other circumstances if that had been his desire. Still, it was all she could do not to massage her breasts in front of a hundred rolling cameras.

While Kal laughed for those same cameras, Batman moved. Despite all his humanity, Bruce was still able to prove that even Superman was no exception to the vulnerability rule.

Arguably the most tactically savvy of them all, Bruce had stayed smartly out of Kal's way for most of the fight, using everything from supersonics to high voltage to soften the Man of Steel up from a distance. He did more of the same while Wonder Woman dove and shoulder slammed the drunken Kryptonian away from the populated park.

When finally forced into two-on-one combat at the base of the Statue of Liberty, The Caped Crusader used the Kryptonite gloves he'd hoped never to need with more skill and finesse than the other heroes combined. Unfortunately, Kal's alien blood only flowed for moments after each blow before his solar-charged cells regenerated.

Finally, Superman tired of the rare sensations of pain delivered to him by his friend. After a split second's retreat, he rendered Gotham City's Finest senseless at the New York Harbor's edge by distracting him with a gust of freezing breath and leveling him with a sheared telephone pole.

With The Batman down, Kal-El turned his attention to his one remaining foe.

~~~

Her name was Diana. She was the Princess of the hidden Amazon Island of Themyscira, daughter of Queen Hippolyte and the king of the Greek Gods, Zeus. The world of men called her Wonder Woman. It was not a name she preferred, but it was simple, and most humans needed things to be simple. Kal never called her Wonder Woman, at least not in private, but then Kal-El wasn't human.

And he was anything but simple.

The demi-goddess shook the remaining stars from her vision and tried to take stock before he caught up with her. His last blow, a clawed swipe across her bare chest, had knocked her backward a city block or more. The good part was, she had actually enjoyed the feeling of the blow across her breasts. The bad part was, she rather hoped he'd try it without pulling his punches. In any case, she hoped she might be able to use his now open affinity for them to her advantage.

Struggling to stand, she glanced down at her bright red, white, blue and gold uniform -- colored so like his -- now hanging in tatters beneath her clawed breasts. Under other circumstances she would have been concerned about her exposed flesh, particularly as she knew that the raging battle -- highly-visible bouncing Amazonian breasts and all -- was being broadcast live to ever television, computer, and smart phone across the world, and likely into others throughout the galaxy. Though vanity wasn't typically an issue with the Amazon, there were many among the millions who watched the battles of the Justice League who would use such exposure against them.

That was why most of the female heroes generally glued the tops of their suits into place. It was a lesson she'd learned after nearly nude photographs of her, fresh from her first battle in Man's World, had decorated tabloids for months. Door posters of the nearly topless Amazon had come out just weeks after Farrah Fawcett's famous red swimsuit began decorating walls in the '70's.

For the moment, vanity was the least of her worries. She managed to push herself back to one foot, thanking Hera that her vision was clearing, when his body blocked the sun and he slowed into place above her like a god.

She looked up at the being hovering over her with his arms crossed. He looked down his nose at her as if she were a recalcitrant child. His red cape fluttered in the wind along with his spit curl. Despite all the carnage, he looked as if he'd simply been out for a springtime walk.

She thought about how the brief battle had made her feel, the looks, the brutal blows. He was the only male that had ever really made her feel desirous, but there had always been something that got in the way. Duty, Lois Lane, Lois' death, more duty... She'd once briefly considered Captain Marvel, but she'd caught him peering at her breasts several times. She'd also seen one of the old posters behind the door to his quarters.

Kal was the only being on the planet truly worthy of her.

"You know, Diana, they look even nicer without benefit of x-ray vision."

She tried to hide her body's response by crossing her arms over her hardened nipples. There was something markedly different about the adolescent drooling of Billy Batson and this man's gaze -- something that stirred her despite the circumstances. But this wasn't the way she wanted him.

"Kal, this isn't you. It's the Kryptonite. You know that. Give me the rin..."

One hand found her wrists, yanking them together effortlessly above her head. The other grabbed her right breast. Both closed like vices, snuffing out the rest of her words.

"Maybe this is me, Diana. Maybe the rock just lets it all out. We spend our lives helping them, and they hate us for what we are -- me because I'm alien, you because you're a goddess on a planet that doesn't believe in gods. Maybe I'm just tired of the façade."

He let go of her wrists, but she left them where they were. Kryptonian fingertips brushed an Amazonian nipple and then he drifted back away from her. "And, I do look, Diana. You are the Princess of the Amazons, after all."

For the briefest of moments, his eyes became focused and sincere. Just as quickly, the leer returned. "I just hide it better than Billy."

She wondered, for a moment, if he read minds, too, then she carefully started to stand. If sheer power couldn't win this battle, perhaps feminine wiles could. If he secretly harbored super-sadistic sexual desires, she could be a super-masochist -- if only for him.

"You know you don't have to sneak, Kal. If there was ever a couple fated by the gods to be together..."

Unfortunately, she'd never been good with feminine wiles.

She saw the air ripple in front of his eyes, not the pinpoint beams of before, but a nearly invisible wave. A split second later, the heat washed around her in a hellish eddy, knocking her back to her knees. By the time the air stopped shimmering, steam rose from her body. The powdered ash remains of what had been a nearly impervious uniform fell like gray snow to grass newly brown and withered.

Her body had protected her boots, and his gaze had only traveled from breast to crotch, leaving her golden tiara untouched. Aside from those two articles and the metallic magic lasso made from Gaea's girdle that she'd somehow managed to pull free from her belt, only air brushed her naked flesh.

She blinked, trying to control the shock of what had just happened. She hadn't realized his vision was that powerful. Before she could regain her composure, he blurred.

For the briefest of moments his lips brushed her ear, "Much better."

He blurred again.

Touching her like no one had, he closed his fingers around her left breast, compressing it in a grip that had pressed coal to diamond. A surprising pain wracked the crushed flesh as he bound it at the base with her lasso. He yanked each loop with a strength that had splintered tree trunks, each tighter than the one before. In seconds, her left breast ballooned. In the moments that it took him to do the same to her right, the first had darkened to lavender-red.

By the time he'd finished and hovered over her again, both mounds were crushed at the base by a half-dozen golden loops each. They felt as if they were going to explode, and they'd taken on a plum-purple shade. By Diana's estimate, it had been less than thirty seconds since he'd incinerated her uniform when he shot toward the clouds, the tail of her lasso held firmly in his grasp.

Before she was able to recognize the stirring in her loins, the golden rope coils snapped tight. He all but tore her breasts from her chest as he yanked her by them bodily into the air. She recovered as quickly as she could, flying in a desperate attempt to match his speed and relieve the pressure of faster than sound flight on her chest. She'd never been as fast as he, and he slung her around by her blue breasts like a wild child dragging a pull toy.

Kal never gave her enough time to regroup. Instead of flying with any predictability, he changed course on a whim just as she'd get her bearings. Tugging ruthlessly on the rope, he'd send her twisting and spinning in one direction or the other. Twice, he teased her by slowing in mid-flight so her momentum carried her past him. His hands came around from behind her, closing on her breasts, squeezing them so that the tight flesh of her stretched nipples loosened, letting him tweak while his lips brushed her neck. He would spank her bare rear with enough power to sting and leave a mark, and then he'd veer off and yank again.