A Naked (and Very Hung) Wonder Woman With A Fully Feminized Superman

Lois Lane turned—and stared. She knew that face, that regal profile. The golden tiara that held back the wavy black hair, the strong jaw, the piercing blue eyes that marked the Princess of the Amazons. She stood six feet tall, half a head over the Daily Planet's greatest reporter...and she was naked.

The reporter was taken aback at Wonder Woman's nudity. The heroine's broad shoulders were rounded with muscle, her biceps, abs, and thighs wonderfully sculpted and developed, waist narrow. Metal bracelets graced her wrists, but what caught the reporter's attention was the monster between her legs.

There was no pubic hair. The carefully-sculpted abs flowed down to a hairless crotch, and where Lois Lane expected to see labia, the skin instead extended into the familiar sight of a penis—no, not even that. The beast that descended from Wonder Woman's pelvis was at least eight inches long when flaccid, the bulbous purple head like the tip of some strange phallus, a vivid purple, a great blue vein running down the length of it. Behind it, and so large that it grazed the Amazon's thighs, was a hairless sack bigger than anything Lois had seen on a human.

"What...how..." Questions blurred through Lois Lane's mind too fast for her mouth to speak them clearly.

Then the reporter saw the golden lasso that descended from Wonder Woman's left hand. Which formed a glittery arc into the darkness of the graveyard behind the ruined church. And the figure that stepped out of that darkness, the golden thread wrapped around their neck like the leash of a dog.

Most of the uniform had been torn off to reveal the the slim nude form. A yellow belt hung limp around the flaring hips, a red cape was tied around a slim neck, dainty feet tramped the grass in over-sized red books. An inch or two shorter than Wonder Woman. Powerfully muscled, without a single spare ounce of fat, yet somehow somehow softer and shrunken compared to the bold Amazon. The black hair was in a mannish cut, a single S-shaped curl fallen across their forehead. The eyes were the soft blue of the endless summer sky over Kansas...and it was the eyes that Lois seemed to recognize. Certainly not the small breasts that stood out on the muscled chest, or the dark thatch of hair that didn't quite hide a vulva...streams of cum dried into the pubic hair, and on the pale muscled legs.

"Superman?" Lois said, her eyes wide...and the once-Man of Steel hung his head in shame.

"We were investigating a potential demonic incursion," Wonder Woman said, with her odd Greek accent. "Undercover. They showed us their ritual of confession...and that was where I learned. How to suck his masculinity away. To make it my own. To make her my own."

The Amazon's smile sent a chill down Lois Lane's spine.

"The...transgender folk...they're women, who have been sucking the manhood from men. Yet that's not all of it. They're in the service of something else. They have some more important goal. I never expected it to go this far, for Superman to become...such a bitch."

Superwoman had come level with Wonder Woman now, and the Amazon placed a protective arm around her.

"The real question is: where is all that masculinity going? Who is making dickgirls of women, and women of men...and why?" Wonder Woman said. "You want to know, don't you?"