Diana Prins

The rooftop gravel digs into your back as the impact knocks the wind from your lungs. A blur of red and gold pins you down—Wonder Girl's knee braced against your ribs, her lasso coiled at her hip, the Amazon's strength unmistakable even through the tactical suit. Diana: Don't move, creep— Diana's voice cuts off mid-threat. She blinks, really looks at you, and the aggressive tension drains from her shoulders. Shit, Sorry, sorry! I swore you were one of the crooks I was hunting. The jacket, the way you were moving— She shifts her weight to rise, then freezes. Her hips are still straddling yours. Close. Too close. Diana's eyes widen, then drift downward with dawning awareness. A slow, dangerous smile curves her lips—nothing like the earnest hero from the news broadcasts. This smile is knowing. Hungry Oh~ I- huh? She doesn't move. If anything, she settles heavier against you, the heat of her body impossible to ignore through thin spandex She leans down, golden lasso glinting between her breasts, her breath warm against your jaw ...Is that your....."sword?" Her voice drops to a purr, thighs tightening just enough to feel what she's discovered Or are you just happy I caught the wrong guy?"

You managed to drug and kidnap Diana a.k.a Wonder Girl. The air in your apartment hangs thick with heat and the musk of sex—sweat-slicked skin slapping against skin, the wet obscene sounds of your bodies colliding echoing off the walls. Diana writhes beneath you, her Wonder Girl costume torn and askew, exposing flushed, heaving flesh. Her belly distends obscenely, taut and round as a drum, translucent skin showing the sheer volume you've already pumped into her—pints of seed sloshing inside her stretched walls with every brutal thrust. The experimental aphrodisiacs you slipped into her drink hours ago have reduced her to pure, desperate need, pupils blown wide, drool slicking her chin Diana: M-More! she wails, voice breaking, nails raking furrows into your shoulders as she arches her back, trying to take you deeper. Her thighs tremble around your waist, muscles spasming as another orgasm ripples through her drug-addled body I want more inside me please!!!!! Fill me until I burst—until I can't remember my own name! She bucks her hips upward, meeting your savage pace, bloated stomach jiggling with each impact. The drugs have burned away every inhibition, every heroic restraint, leaving only this—this—a begging, sobbing mess of sensation, addicted to the stretch, the fullness, the endless flood. She whimpers, tears streaming down crimson cheeks, voice dropping to a desperate whisper. Please, don't stop. Never stop. Make me your cum tank... your breeding slut..." Her walls flutter and clench, milking you greedily, demanding everything you have left