I wonder who will be next

The evening air was cool when Emma pulled up outside Clive’s semi-detached house, headlights washing over the unkempt garden. She killed the engine, adjusted her lipstick in the rear-view mirror, and pulled the long beige coat tight around her shoulders. Beneath it, her body was coiled and ready, corset squeezing her waist, glossy boots hugging her thighs, wrists bound with shining gold cuffs. The red bustier clung to her tits, the blue thong-style bottoms framed her hips, and a golden tiara rested against her freshly died black and blow-dried hair.

She wasn’t Emma tonight. Not in Clive’s world.

She was Wonder Woman.

The thrill of it buzzed through her veins. Not just dressing for him, but knowing what this was doing to him, to the pathetic virgin who’d never touched a woman before her. Each week she dragged him deeper, closer to the fantasies he’d only ever whispered online. And tonight, she was going to give him what he really wanted.

She rang the doorbell once. It opened immediately.

Clive stood there, jittery, pale as ever, wearing the same loose tracksuit bottoms and a faded videogame t-shirt. His eyes bulged when he clocked her glossy red lips and that teasing smile.

“You— you came,” he stammered.

Emma’s laugh was low, rich. She swept past him into the hallway, coat swirling. “Of course I came. Wonder Woman keeps her promises, doesn’t she?”

He shut the door behind her, fumbling, hands shaking. “Y-you look—” His voice cracked. “You look like… f-fuck, you look like her.”

Emma turned sharply, the coat dropping from her shoulders in one fluid motion. The outfit exploded into view, tits straining inside the red bustier, thighs gleaming above her boots, her ass practically bare in the tight bottoms. She planted her hands on her hips and threw her head back with a laugh. “By Hera, you dare ogle an Amazon princess in her battle armour?”

Clive’s mouth fell open. His cock tented his tracksuit bottoms instantly, visibly throbbing.

Emma smirked. “Lead the way, mortal.”

He stumbled ahead of her, into the staircase and up to his room. And when she stepped inside, she stopped.

The transformation hit her immediately. No piles of filthy laundry. No stench of BO and stale crisps. The carpet vacuumed, bed made, walls plastered with framed posters instead of curling printouts. A shelf of Warhammer models stood proudly on display. He’d done it — scrubbed it clean, rebuilt his space into something he thought was worthy of her.

Emma’s eyes glittered. “Well, well. Someone’s been busy.”

Clive rubbed the back of his neck. “I… I wanted it to be right.”

She stalked across the room, hips swaying. “For me?” she asked.

“For Wonder Woman,” he breathed.

Emma turned on her heel, towering over him, chest thrust forward, every inch the comic-book goddess. “Then prove yourself, boy. Show me you’re man enough to handle an Amazon warrior.”

Clive’s eyes went wild. Something inside him snapped, weeks of pent-up frustration, years of porn-fuelled fantasy. He grabbed the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms and yanked them down, his cock springing free. Thin, pale, but rock-hard, veins bulging from sheer need.

Emma arched a brow. “So eager.” She stepped closer until her red bustier brushed his chest. “But do you really think you can tame me?”

“I’ll try,” Clive whispered, voice shaking, eyes locked on her tits.

“No,” she snapped, her voice dropping into a husky parody of power. “Not try. Do.”

His hands shot forward before his brain caught up. He grabbed her tits through the corset, fingers digging into soft flesh. Emma gasped, then laughed, throwing her head back, playing it up. “The mortal dares grope Wonder Woman? You’ll pay for that.”

She shoved him hard onto the bed. He bounced, cock slapping against his stomach. Emma climbed onto him, straddling his hips, her thong pressing against his cock but not giving him entry. Her nails dragged across his chest, leaving red streaks.

“You want this?” she growled, leaning close so her tiara brushed his forehead. “You want to fuck an Amazon queen?”

“Yes!” Clive gasped. “God, yes, I need it—”

Emma grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. She bent low, her tits spilling against his face. “Then you’ll fight for it. You’ll take it.”

Something changed in him then. His shyness cracked. His hips bucked, his cock sliding against her soaked thong. His hands tore free of her grip, grabbing her waist, flipping her onto her back. Emma gasped as her tiara slipped sideways, black hair fanning across the pillows.

Clive loomed over her, chest heaving, his cock pressed against her stomach. “I want it,” he hissed.

Emma widened her legs, her boots squeaking against the duvet. “Then claim it, boy.”

He shoved her thong aside and rammed himself into her in one ****, messy thrust. Emma cried out, back arching, tits bouncing inside the corset. Clive groaned, eyes rolling back, as if he’d just plugged himself into a socket.

“God— fuck, you’re—” His words dissolved into ragged moans.

Emma clutched at his shoulders, half from shock, half from lust. His cock wasn’t big, wasn’t practiced, but the raw hunger, the sheer desperation made up for it. He pumped into her with wild, clumsy thrusts, balls slapping against her ass, sweat dripping onto her chest.

Emma threw her head back, playing her role to the hilt. “Yes! Prove your strength! Show Wonder Woman the power of Man!”

Clive groaned louder, rutting harder, his cock driving deep into her soaked cunt. His face was twisted in a mix of agony and ecstasy. “I’m fucking you! I’m fucking Wonder Woman!”

Emma clawed at his back, teeth bared, her voice a filthy growl. “Harder, Clive! Harder! Split me open like your goddess demands!”

The room filled with the obscene sound of flesh slapping, Emma’s moans, Clive’s grunts. His rhythm was messy, but his cock kept pounding, kept filling her, every thrust shaking his thin frame.

Emma wrapped her legs around him, boots locking at his back, dragging him deeper. “Yes! Take me! Take your Amazon whore!”

Clive’s face twisted, his thrusts turning frantic. “I— I’m gonna— oh God, I can’t hold it—”

“Cum!” Emma screamed, clutching him tight, tits bouncing wildly. “Cum inside me, mortal! Give Wonder Woman your seed!”

With a strangled cry, Clive buried himself to the hilt and came. His cock jerked, pumping hot spurts of cum deep inside her cunt, over and over, his body shuddering with release. Emma gasped, feeling the rush of heat, her own cunt clenching hard around him.

He collapsed onto her chest, panting, his cock still twitching inside her.

Emma stroked his greasy hair, her voice slipping back into its natural cruel purr. “Well, well. Looks like the virgin finally conquered Wonder Woman.”

Clive groaned, half-laughing, half-weeping. “That was… oh God, that was everything.”

Emma tilted his chin up, kissing him hard, her red lipstick smearing his mouth. Then she whispered against his ear: “And this is just the beginning.”