The First Weekend, Friday Night

It had been a couple of weeks since the day I had both saved Wonder Woman's life and bound her to me sexually in the same day. I have to admit, they were two of the longest weeks of my life. On the one hand, there was anticipation. By the terms of the oath I had Wonder Woman swear -- an oath she literally could not break -- for two days a month she had to be my lover, surrendering herself and her desires to me completely. You had better believe I was anxious to get started.

On the other hand, however, there was fear. I had built into the oath certain safeguards to make certain Wonder Woman couldn't either cause me harm -- directly or indirectly -- or allow harm to come to me. However, she was surrounded by some of the most powerful legends the world had ever known. Superman. Batman. Zatanna... if one of them found out that I had extorted the oath from her -- by threatening the Justice League with worldwide exposure of their innermost secrets -- it would go very, very badly for me.

Still, Batman didn't show up in the middle of the night to terrorize me, and Superman didn't vaporize me from orbit with his eyes, so when I got up Friday morning, I knew I had gotten away with it. At least for now. At least for this first weekend.

And that meant tonight was the night.

There were preparations to do, of course, and I did them over the course of the previous couple of weeks. I'd seen a doctor, for one. I'd picked up various supplies, for others. I was ready for a number of different ways for the weekend to play itself out. I'd stocked the fridge and I'd stocked the bar.

Does that surprise you? Do you not see Diana of Themyscira as a drinker? Well, honestly, neither did I -- and that was part of the point. I hadn't gotten as much information out of her as probably I should have, but I got a good impression of what Diana wanted from an encounter like this. On the one hand, she'd admitted to some bondage fetish. On the other, she'd admitted that because she was supposed to be... well, Wonder Woman, some of the appeal was being to do things she might want to do... but couldn't allow herself to do.

And that's the key to everything. It wasn't enough to nail Wonder Woman. I wanted her to enjoy this. For the rest of our lives, she was going to be my lover. I wanted her yearning for our weekends. And that meant both playing to her hidden desires... and breaking through her sense of who she was supposed to be.

The day seemed to crawl. I went to work at the bookstore, and tried not to stare at the clock. It was agonizing.

But finally, five o'clock came. I drove home, to my basement apartment. It was a decent size -- inexpensive enough for my budget, but not bad. And even better, the floors above me were well insulated, which meant it was very nearly soundproof. There were no neighbors on my floor, either -- on one side there was another well insulated wall seperating my apartment from the furnace room, and on the other side was an unfinished basement that no one had been in for fifteen years, not counting me storing some of my stuff in there. The windows were all high up on my walls and small, letting light in, but thanks to light curtains and the angle, it was nigh impossible for someone to see into my place.

I'd never thought of it this way before, but my apartment was nearly perfect for clandestine trysts. Or to slowly break down a superheroine's defenses and .

I'd showered and gotten ready -- I was wearing a dark red silk shirt and black dress pants. I think I looked pretty good, though in one sense it didn't matter how I looked. And then I waited.

At 7:55, almost on the dot, there was a knock at my door. It was a strong knock.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

And there she was. Diana of Themyscira. Bigger than life.

She wasn't wearing her tiara, and she had on a closed grey trenchcoat. Her legs were bare underneath it, save for her distinctive boots. Clearly, she was wearing her costume underneath the coat, but didn't want people to know Wonder Woman was entering the building. She carried a duffel bag -- no doubt with the sundries she'd need over the weekend.

"Hey there," I said, as lightly as I could.

"Hello, Thomas," she said, smoothly. Her eyes held some defiance. It was hard to tell if she was angry, nervous, or excited. Maybe she was all three.

"Come on in," I said. "You're early."

"I didn't want to be late," she said lightly. "After all, I wouldn't want to run the risk of breaking my word."

"Your word?" I asked. "Or your oath?"

She flushed slightly as she stepped inside. "My word. I can't break my oath."

I nodded at this. "Regardless, it's nice to see. How have you been? Are you fully recovered from Poison Ivy's attack?"

"Yes," she said. "It took a few days and some help from... an associate."

"And everything worked out?"

"I rescued my captured allies," she said. "And we stopped the Injustice Alliance."

"Good." I closed the door. And very slowly, and very deliberately I locked it -- three locks, all told. A chain, a bolt and the doorknob. It was symbolic. I was locking the world out, and Diana in.

She breathed in sharply as I did so: the symbolism wasn't lost on her. Of course, a locked door wouldn't slow her down for a second, but she knew what it really meant. The world was locked out. For the next forty-eight hours, it was just the two of us... and she had at all as to what would happen.

I turned to look at her. "You wear trenchcoats well," I said.

She took a deep breath. "I wanted to... conceal my identity, at least somewhat."

"Good. Though you realize, if anyone saw you coming here dressed like that, they'd assume you were a prostitute."

Her cheeks colored. "I hadn't... thought of that," she said.

"How does it make you feel?" I began to circle her.

"I... don't have an opinion." She reached to undo the coat.

"No," I said, half-whispering. "Leave it on for now. But give me your lasso."

She swallowed, but slipped a hand into the coat and down to her hip. She withdrew it, the golden Lariat of Truth in her hand, and she handed it to me.

"Thank you," I said softly, still circling her. She grew somewhat self-conscious as I watched her, appraising. "Have you been thinking about tonight?" I asked her.

"I... could hardly be expected not to," she said -- defensive, perhaps. Or defiant. Definitely evasive.

"And how did you feel about it."

"I am to surrender myself... to surrender my very virginity to you," she said, dropping her voice slightly. "Naturally I am furious."

"Naturally," I said, playing with the golden strands in my hand. Just as I stepped out of her view, still circling her, I pulled them tight, snapping them together with an audible, metallic crack. She jumped slightly, breath caught by the sound. "Did you look forward to tonight?"

There was a pause.

"Diana?"

"I wasn't aware it was a requirement," she said, coolly.

I half smiled. Another evasion. Another bit of defiance. That was good. That would make this all the sweeter. "Of course," I said. "Lift your arms over your head."

"Excuse me?"

I stepped back in front of her, looking her in the eye. "Lift your arms over your head. Cradle them behind your head. Pose for me."

Her face colored more, but she slowly did so. She had to. She had to 'indulge my desires,' by her oath.

I watched her move, and watched her pose, letting my eyes linger on her... before I stepped closer, and very deliberately wound the lasso around her waist, just above her hips. I pulled it tight enough so the trenchcoat was pulled in, showing a hint of the curves the coat otherwise concealed.

Her breath escaped her as I did so -- as I bound her into the lasso's truth, and as I invoked another aspect of the oath she swore by the River Styx: I swear that I will allow him to use the Golden Lariat of Truth on me at his discretion, and when bound I will act as though I am his captive, unable to escape.

I moved slowly behind her, my fingertips still on the lasso, which meant they were still touching her waist. I made a simple knot there -- this was just a temporary arrangement. I'd get more involved with the lasso when she wasn't wearing quite so much. Then I slid my hands around her body, cupping her abdomen... and drew her back, so that she leaned against me, her hands still cradling her head. "You're my captive," I said, softly.

"Yes," she whispered in return, unable to lie or hold back.

"You've been thinking about tonight."

"Yes," she said again, shivering.

"You were angry."

"Yes."

"But you were also looking forward to it. Weren't you?"

She shivered. "Yes," she answered.

"You wanted this."

"Yes," she practically hissed.

"Did you think about it before falling asleep at night."

"Yes."

"Did you touch yourself?"

She moaned, ever so softly. She had . She couldn't hold back. She couldn't evade. She could only answer. "Yes," she said, soft as a breeze.

"What did you touch?" I asked, leaning closer, whispering in her ear.

"I... myself... I touched myself..." she answered. I could feel the warmth from her face, burning with embarrassment.

"Describe it. In detail."

She shivered -- I knew her shiver could throw a horse off her, but this time she didn't disturb our position. "I... I did it more than once... which.... time should I...."

"The first time... tell me about the first time, when you were thinking about tonight, and you touched yourself."

"I was mad," she whispered. "But... it also... warmed me. I was stewing about it as I tried to sleep... until I realized my fingers were on my breast... on my nipple. It felt good. I stopped... but then started again...."

"Go on..."

"And I ran my other hand over my stomach," she said, breathless now, eyes half-shut. "I... I was feeling warmer, imagining what you would do to me...."

"And then?"

"I... imagined you spreading my legs, and... they opened... and I slipped my hand between them, into my underwear. I... I...."

"Shh. That's enough." I was massaging her through the coat now, feeling her stomach muscles move under my fingers. Her legs shifted, causing her backside to slide over me, pressing slightly.

"When you came here... wearing that trenchcoat... anyone who saw you would think you're a prostitute," I said again, softly.

"Yes...."

"They would know you were coming to service me."

"Oh... Hera... yes...."

"And that thrills you, doesn't it?"

She moaned softly. Another agreement escaped her lips.

"You like the thought... a woman come to please a man. A courtesan..." my voice dropped to a whisper. "A whore...."

"I'm not a whore," she said, very quietly.

"But anyone who saw you would think you were," I answered.

"Yesssss..."

"And you like that."

She swallowed. "...yes...."

I slid my right hand down... down to her outer leg, over the coat... then found its hem... and slid it up along her mid-thigh, under the coat. She shivered at the intimacy. "You masturbated, thinking about me... thinking about tonight... thinking about acting as my whore...."

"...oh yes...."

"You came."

"...y-yes...."

"And then you did it again."

She didn't answer that time, but pressed back against me as my hand found her upper inner thigh. Her legs were apart just enough to let me touch her -- and I knew just from how she reacted that no man had ever touched her like this before. As she shivered again, I slid my other hand higher, cupping her breast through her coat. My own heart was racing now. Wonder Woman was mine, and the thought excited her.

"Turn your face towards me," I whispered.

She did so, her eyes close. Her lips slightly parted.

My lips found hers. She froze for half a second... and then I felt her returning the kiss. Felt her nipple harden so much I could feel it through her bustier and trenchcoat alike... I guess that's super-strong too, I thought, but resisted the urge to chuckle as I drank in our first kiss... and drank in her surrender to it.

I moved my lower hand then... cupping her... feeling her through the thin band over her crotch. The band was pliant and warm -- it felt like some kind of metal, almost, but a metal that still transmitted any touch as though it were the thinnest satin. She froze again, breaking the kiss as I held her, touching her as intimately as I could while she was still clothed... and then as I began to massage, she moaned, low and throaty.

"You like this," I said.

"...yes...."

"You're helpless."

"Zeus... yes...."

"And you like that," I said, moving my fingers more quickly.

"...yeeeeessss...."

"You're close," I said. "Close to the edge, already...."

"I... yes....."

"It's been so long, you've wanted something like this to happen for so long now... you've been anticipating this moment for so long..."

"Yuh... yuh... yeeeesss...."

I clenched my upper hand, squeezing her breast hard -- I couldn't possibly hurt her, but the sensation was still shocking to her, even as I found my target through her uniform's crotch and stimulated it as much as I could. An old hand at these things might see this as foreplay or see it all as too much, too fast, but the woman in my arms -- a virginal woman who yearned to be sexual, but felt locked into a role -- responded sharply and intensely... right up to the edge....

"...surrender..." I whispered.

"What?"

"Surrender to it... to me..."

"I...I...."

"Now."

And she cried out, full voice, and was consumed in what had to be the most intense orgasm of her life. Her body shuddered and shook, and I held on tightly lest she accidentally hurl me to the ground with the strength of it. I held her as she came, long and hard... and continue to hold her as she practically fell back, tension released from her body as she became almost liquid in my arms.

I kissed behind her ear. "Welcome, Diana," I murmured. "Welcome to your new life. To our new life."