Say yes to (another) dress

You leave Wonder Woman hanging (ha ha) for a few hours while you get some sleep. When you wake you check the monitors, but she’s been sleeping soundly the whole time.

You shower, get dressed, and go to visit your prisoner. Bondage not withstanding, she looks so peaceful in her sleep. But she wakes up when the chains start lowering her. She’s surprised to land on the soft mattress you **** in, rather than the hard metal floor. You remove the IV needle from her arm and slap on a quick bandage. You unhook her from the chains, untie her wrists, then back away. She looks up at you, her expression unreadable.

“You can take it from there,” you say as you exit, closing the door behind you. She wastes no time untying the rest of the ropes, tho some of your knots give the de-powered Amazon a hard time. When she’s free, she stands up stretching her back and limbs in relief.

Then her gaze falls on the white dress you’ve left hanging by the door. She walks over to examine it, mouthing something bemused to the ceiling. Then she shrugs, picks up the dress, and drops it over her head.

She manages to fasten the dress behind her back – flexible girl! – and is sitting on a stool putting on the white heels you left for her, when you open the cell door. She looks up at you, her face again inscrutable.

“I hope the shoes fit, I wasn’t 100% sure on the size.”

“They’re a little thin for my feet but they’ll do,” Diana says, standing. “The dress, however, fits like a glove. Am I supposed to be Karen Allen from Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

You let out a surprised chuckle. “I was more going for Rachel Nichols in P2; it’s a parking garage thing. But Raiders works too.” She gives no indication of having seen P2, but doesn’t feel compelled to ask about it. “Actually the store had it labeled as Themyscira-inspired fashions.”

“I see. Not too far off I suppose.”

“You look amazing,” you say as sincerely as you can without drooling. The dress hugs her figure perfectly, accentuating her breasts & hips. The top leaves her neck and shoulders bare with a generous amount of cleavage on display. The sides are slit up almost to her waist showing off her magnificent legs.

She nods, silently acknowledging the compliment. “So what happens now?”

“I was thinking dinner. You went through three IV bags, but your stomach has got to be growling.”

“Yes, it’s quite empty,” she deadpans, not bothering to point out why. “Are we dining in?”

“That kinda depends,” you reply and you hold up the Golden Lasso.

“I see.” She considers for a moment. “Very well, for now I will…permit it.”

You grin at how she avoids the word “submit.” But she still steps forward and bows her head, hair pulled off to one side. You know if she decides to fight you’ll only have a millisecond’s warning, but she doesn’t resist when you step forward and drape the lasso around her neck. She straightens, pulls her hair through the loop, and meets your gaze for the first time since she woke up. Her blue eyes are so extraordinary it’s easy to lose yourself in them, but whatever she’s thinking remains hidden. Note to self: don’t play poker with this woman.

“This way then,” you murmur as you lead her out of the cell with the lasso like a leash.