Mr. Mxyzptlk and the Wonders of Woman: Part 1 [F][Reluc][Exhib][Huml][Comic Book]

[Note: I took this from a recent writing prompt and rewrote the initial setup just a little to better fit with my story idea. The main context is still there. All credit to the originator for the idea. All text beyond the first line break is all me, errors and all. Enjoy.]

**Mr. Mxyzptlk and the Wonders of Woman: Part 1**

Diana Prince was a strong, compassionate, kind, and forgiving woman. She was an Amazon, which meant she was also a proud warrior and a fierce combatant, but things could change, and quickly.

Wonder Woman stood at the podium near the reflecting pool in Washington D.C., the Secretary of DEfense, assorted generals, and representative from the State Department and NATO nearby. She was about to be presented the Metahuman Medal of Valor. A wave of pride swept through her to be able to support her adopted home so well. HEr armored costumed gleamed in the daylight, deep red mytical leathers, the blue, the golden bronze. Cameras flashed, and she let them take her in. People need heroes, needed someone to look up to, aspire to be. Her speech played on that theme, that you need not be superpowered to do good in the world. The Secretary of Defense stepped forward to present her the medal, and the world stopped, went silent. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t move, but she was aware. Birds hung in the sky, Marine One’s helicopter blades were still in the distance as it ferried the President off to another event.

“Isn’t this wonderful? Time all to ourselves.” She heard a voice speak behind her, and as she saw the face slowly creep into view, she knew what Kal had warned them all about, though it never seemed to apply to anyone but him. “Wonder Woman is what they call you right? You *are* a wonder to behold. I do wish girls like you came in my size.” The imp grinned, and she felt her eyes go wide, so at minimum, she had some movement. “Don’t worry, I’m not offering, just thinking aloud. You may remember this conversation 1,999,999 men from now and think, hmm, maybe if I just offered myself to him then and there…but, well, that time has passed.” He grinned, stroking her hair. A mirror popped up in front of her, the small man invisible in the reflection, but as he continued to pet her, her changed color, shifting from deep brunette, to pure blonde. He plucked her tiara from her hair and placed it around her neck, and in a moment, it was a lacy choker, aa little star like that on her tiara, hanging from a small chain. He took her lasso from her hip, and she watched the golden cord shrink into an iPhone of matching color.

“I’ll just set this to record.” He said, as the phone floated in the air. “This is just for me, right now, but the makeover of Wonder Woman will go viral on its own, no doubt.” He gently poked the star dangling from her choker, and Wonder Woman felt a shock wave pulse through her. In that moment, she wanted nothing more but to grab that phone and show off her new look, but she still couldn’t move.

“You’re too vain, too vapid–double V–W! I made an accidental pun! But aren’t all bimbos vain and vapid?” He tapped her lips, and she saw them swell to bee-stung plumpness. “Go ahead, speak.”

“I will kill you, Mxyzptlk! I will…like, I totally, um, I will…” Her voice was high pitched, girlish, borderline silly, a parody of Harley Quinn.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He took the shield from her back and it transformed into a makeup compact. He made a show of doing up her face, though she couldn’t see anything until he was done. Hers lips were bubble gum pink, bigs eyes rounded by glittery grey-blue eye shadow, long lashes, a dusting of glitter blush. She barely recognized herself.

“Oh, lovely! You know what they call those lips? Broadband…DSL…Dick Sucking Lips…get it?” She heard her girlish voice giggle at the joke. “Let’s not forget the funbags.” She tried to recoil as he ran his hands over the curves of her breasts, the top of her cleavage, and when he withdrew, they were enormous, physically impossible, and her armor, which had twisted to accommodate her, didn’t even completely cover her nipples.

He floated around her and she felt him slap her ass on each side with his small hand. Another mirror appeared, and she saw her ass swell, her hips widen, and her armored skirt shrink to nothing more than a decorative thong. She shrunk in stature, barely five feet, the heels growing on her boots to dangerous heights. A parody of a living sex doll look back at her.

“All this can be yours, and more, for the low low price of your dignity! There’s more to come, more come to come.” He laughed. “You’ll see, your super team will see, the whole world will see…” He put the phone in her hand and pinched her lips until she looked like a duck. “Now when I disappear, you’ll snap a selfie and your new life will begin.” He giggled before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. The world started moving, and she found herself snapping a photo, admiring her look, her hair, her breasts, even as the press and crowd took their own photos, laughing, gasping, murmuring. She let them see her, let them admire her. It’s who she was.

—–

Wonder Woman woke with a start [Isn’t it how *all* these stories start — Ed.]. “By the gods…” she looked down at her nude form, sheet pooled at her waist, “it was just a dream.” The breasts that she saw, felt, were her normal handfuls, olive skin, tan nipples hard in the cool air of the Watchtower space station. She climbed out of bed, ready for a hot shower to wash the unnerving dream from her mind. She washed slowly, lazily. It was early, not even dawn by her clock, though the rise and fall of the sun meant little miles above the Earth in orbit. She would probably be the only one awake, but it would be nice to have a cup of coffee and watch the Earth spin below with the Flash yammering or Martian Manhunter muttering his dour review of the daily news. Superman, Batman, Aquaman, Green Lantern, they rarely stayed on the Station. She wasn’t even sure Superman actually needed to sleep. She dried off, thinking about what she would wear. She wouldn’t be going into the office today, a Saturday, but she liked wearing modern clothes, the color in particular, instead of the traditional loose togas of her home island or even the red, blue, and golden bronze of her costume. As she dried her hair, her hand came away with a white strand. “What?” She muttered. She wiped the last of steam from the mirror in her bathroom and gasped. Not white…blonde. A streak of pure blonde hair poured from the top of her her scalp, just a lock, but noticeable, obvious, as if she styled it that way. “No, no…by Athena…it was *just* a dream.” There was a popping sound behind her, and Mr. Mxyzptlk floated jauntily just above and behind her naked shoulders.

“Oh, yes, just a dream…but also a glimpse of the future, not *completely* accurate, the dream world being difficult to control, but something an Amazonian should be familiar with, I think? And like Cassandra, you are cursed to know your future, but no one will believe you. That speck of blonde is just the start, my pretty, since you went one night without a little,” he made a jerk off gesture, and Wonder Woman grimaced, whirling on him and reaching for his neck, though he gently floated just beyond her reached. “I have to say, I do enjoy seeing that body in motion.”

“Do you expect me to cower in my nakedness. I could kill you with nothing but this towel.” She growled.

“Always the same with you heroes, brawn over brains. No, you can’t catch me. My games have rules, and mine are thus.” He started counting off on his fingers. “One, you must be target of someone’s come once a day, at least…” He smirked. “And speak the words of truth, ‘All men are better than me.’” She reached for him again. “Or you will become more and more a blonde bimbo.”

“I will rend you limb from limb!” Once again he deftly drifted beyond her reach.

“Two, you must have your phone of truth with you at all times to help document your exploits.” Wonder Woman’s lasso appeared in his hand and morphed into a golden iPhone. “Three, your compact of defense,” he lifted another finger and her shield appeared, shrinking into a makeup case that clattered on the sink beside her, “to keep you well-groomed. Four, your starred tiara.” It appeared and then disappeared, but Wonder woman felt a choker around her neck, a little star dangling from it. “Five, the wristbands are now bangles and earrings.” Saw them pop into the air then felt them on her wrists, large hoops dangling from her ears. “They’re still that funny magic metal, but now tacky and fairly useless. It just makes you the girl–not the woman–I want you to be.” He snapped his fingers. “Almost forgot! The sword.” It popped into existence and he let it float into her hand. “In the spirit of fair play, I’ll let you have one good swing at me.” Wonder Woman didn’t hesitate, gripping the sword and swinging hard, cutting through neck. His head separated from his neck, bloodless, and floated a few inches above his body. “Phew! What a weight off my shoulders.” He raised a sixth finger, on just one hand. “Six, the sword you clutch so dearly is now, well, your clutch.” The sword shifted in her grip, becoming a small purse dangling from her wrist. “Keep it all close at hand, or blonder and bodacious and more bumbling you will be.”

“What do you want from me, imp?” She snarled.

“This is a game. It’s always a game. I want you to be who *I* want you to be. I want my dear friend Superman to reel at you embarrassing yourself, debasing yourself, but again, this is a game, so if he figures it out, says my name, the curse is lifted. So, seven, if you, how can I put it so a savage like you can understand, take the *seed* of two million men, say my little mantra, the curse is lifted. Of course, eight, you can’t–won’t–be able to tell anyone it was me who did this to you, no speaking, no writing, no charades. Should you try, there will be consequences, some of which you experienced in your dream.”

“I’ll figure out a way, imp tell them it was, like, y’know, like…” Wonder Woman froze, her voice higher pitched. She’d tried to say she would tell then it was Mr. Mxyzptlk, but not only couldn’t she say it, her voice had shifted to that of some vapid young American woman. “Like, oh my gods, what have you done to me…I can’t *even*!”

“I told you not try to tell anyone, so now, well, you sound like how you’ll likely eventually look. Silly, dumb, blonde, air-headed, naive, easy….however you want to put it. I have a few other surprises in store for you, but those are just for my amusement. I’ll be seeing you,” he waved with his nine-fingered hand, “well, not *exactly* you, I’m sure.” He faded out of existence.

“What manner of foul sorcery could render me like this.” Wonder Woman snapped. “My voice, it’s back!” Mr. Mxyzptlk’s severed head popped back into view.

“That’s just because there’s no one else around, sweetie, you’ll see.” He faded away again.

“There must be some way for me to fix this.” Wonder Woman said. “But I should probably get dressed first, at the very least.” She turned back to the mirror to brush out her hair and gasped. She had several pure blonde streaks sprouting from her head, no longer just the one. She stormed out of the bathroom, moving toward her closet for her armored costume. Just as she reached her closet, she felt her balance shift.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Wonder Tits?” Mxyzptlk’s head bobbed in front of her, grinning. She looked back toward the bathroom and saw the phone and compact resting on the sink. “Can’t leave you accessories behind, can we?” She plodded back to the bathroom, gathering the items and put them in the purse dangling from her wrist. She saw herself in the mirror once more, he mouth agape. Her hair was nearly all blonde and her lips looked fuller, her eyes rounder. She went back to the closet and pulled on some panties. As they reached her hips, rather than the advance material sports underwear she was expecting, she found a thin, lacy black thong. She tore them off and grabbed another pair of underwear, but found the same change occurred just as she pulled them up to her hips, though the thong was pink the second time. She frowned but pulled them all the way on, seeing they barely covered the small patch dark pubic hair between her legs.

“This is madness!” She growled, grabbing her armored skirt, not too different from a tennis skirt. She stepped into it and attached it around her waist, but even as she finished with the first clasp, she felt the covering under-layer tighten and saw the armored pleats shrink in length. She glanced at herself in the bedroom mirror as saw the lower quarter of her butt peeking out from under the skirt, and even as she twisted to see, she felt it ride up her ass. “No matter, even dressed like this, I could crush my enemies.” She took her armored top from the closet and braced herself for the change, though as she pulled it on and started to cinch it, nothing happened, though she was struggling with the leather laces. She looked down and saw that her breasts were nearly spilling out. “That was what I felt, my balance shifting…the bastard enlarged my breasts!” She tried to shift her breasts so they fit in her armor, but to no avail. “Now what?” As she said it, the armor shifted, expanding to fit her slightly larger breasts, but deeper cleavage appearing as the bustier made her breasts look even fuller. The changed armor left her navel exposed, a ridiculous failure of armor, and she felt it was backless, with crossed laces running up the entire back. She sat on the edge of her bed and pulled on her boots, which seemed normal at first, but as she stood, she realized the heels has grown by at least an inch. She was still a graceful Amazon warrior, but she wobbled in those first few steps in her room. Seeing herself in the mirror, she grimaced. The mostly blonde woman was her, but not her. Rather than fierce, proud, she looked like some college student dressed up for a Halloween party. She stepped closer to the reflection, hearing her heels clack, and seeing her cleavage bounce. She hated to admit it, but her next words were true. “I will need help.”

—-

Of course, of all the people Wonder Woman would have sought first, The Flash was not one. He happened to be awake earlier than normal, setting up a pot of coffee.

“Morning, Dub Dub,” he said, not looking away from his task. He was moving normal speed, a rule since the time he tried to make coffee by heating it with friction and exploded the pot.

“Like, um, I *totally* need your help.” She winced not only at the sound of her newly girlish voice, but what she was saying.

“Um…” Flash finally looked in her direction and dropped the coffee pot. “What?” He said, flickering an instant as he caught the falling pot and placed it in the receptacle. “Is this some sort of prank?” He looked her up and down. “Did Green Lantern put you up to this? I told him I wouldn’t look at his vintage aviation magazines again.” [See *The Mighty Shenanigans of The Flash*, Issue 7 — Ed.]

“Do they call you *Duh* Flash or *The* Flash? Like, oh my gods, it’s obvs there’s something, you know…” She paused, unclear if she could actually say there was problem, but she risked it. “Like, are you dense? This isn’t supposed to be happening to me it’s a—.” She meant to say curse. “Phase.” She took a step and wobbled, suddenly her chest armor shift like it was made of elastic.

“Whoa.” Flash said, walking over. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but just a moment ago, you had blonde highlights…and now,” he flickered as Wonder Woman felt a breeze, and then he was standing there holding a hand mirror. The woman looking back at her was all blonde lips slightly plumper, and she knew, just by the shift in her posture, that her breasts had grown slightly again. “Okay, okay…” He put down there mirror. “I’m not an idiot. The costume change, the hair color, the um,” he gestured at her cleavage, “there’s something going on here. I’ll call the guys.” He grabbed his communicator. “Why don’t you sit down, have some coffee or something. If you can’t talk about it, not without making it–whatever it is–worse, you should probably keep those lips occupied with something other than talking.” Wonder Woman glared at him, and he put up his hand, blushing. “Hmm…I didn’t mean it like *that* Dub Dub, you know me, fastest man alive, but I can’t outrun my mouth.” She nodded. Grabbing a coffee and sitting at the kitchen table. She could feel her partially exposed ass touching the bare metal of the chair. She shifted, but there wasn’t enough of her costume to make a difference.

“I can, like, talk, you know, just, um, like this…sound like this, sound, like, dumb.” She frowned at her own inability to articulate aloud. “Like, um, I’m totes thinking normal, or whatever, okay?”

“I think I understand, but let’s allow the smart ones to figure this out. This is more a Batman, Superman, Martian Manhunter thing.” While Flash tried to explain the situation, mostly out of earshot, Wonder Woman took the time to assess herself. She looked down at her chest, the top of her costume having shifted to reveal cleavage and split in a deep V all the way down to her navel. She had to use the mirror to see, since she couldn’t easily see over her lifted breasts. The term ‘wonder bra’ came to mind, and she considered that maybe it was another of the imp’s jokes. She was full blonde, eyebrows and all, her lips full and pink, and her eyes appearing much larger and rounder than her Mediterranean heritage would suggest.

“Ugh, I look like a fucking slut.” She said aloud, surprised to her the words, since she’d meant to say she looked like a priestess of Dionysus, and she certainly wouldn’t have sworn like that. The Flash must have been in earshot. She was trying to figure out the rules of this thing, and that was apparently one of them.

“So, um, Supes is unreachable, some Phantom Zone thing, Martian Manhunter’s on his way, though he’s at the far of the Station, and Batman said, I quote, he’s busy, but he’ll *think* about your problem.”

“So, I should just stand around her like an idiot, whatever!” She stood sharply, nearly knocking over her coffee in anger. Her breasts jiggled with the movement, an entirely knew and disconcerting sensation for her, and Flash was staring at her. “Uh, duh? What now?”

“One of your, um,” he glanced away, pointing at her chest. She looked down. Her right breasts had nearly slipped free of what was now her barely armored corset. Her nipple, a third larger than what it had been the night before–and pinker–was half-exposed. She lifted her corset and slipped her breast back inside.

“Grow the fuck up, dummy. It’s just a boob!” She snapped.

“I was trying to be polite.” He said, turning back, “maybe you should try it?”

“It’s totally—,” again, she tried to say curse, but it came out, “the mood I’m in, okay? If you can’t take me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best.” She shook her head, the last words just spouting out of her uncontrollably. She felt a shift in her body and knew she made a mistake again. Trying to talk about the problem only made it worse. That time she felt a shift at her hips and ass. She reached behind her and felt that the under-layer of her armor had shrunk significantly, half of her ass cheeks bare. Even her butt felt a little fuller, still toned, but more to it. She shook her head. “You totally have to stop trying to make me explain myself, dummy!”

“Crap. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Wait, there’s Martian Manhunter.” The green man phased through the wall, staring at Wonder Woman as he approached.

“Are we certain this is actually her?” He asked, without addressing either of them.

“When she first walked in her, she looked different.” Flash offered. “She still had most of her old hair, the costume was less skimpy. I think, and I have to guess, the more she tries to explain it, the more the changes happen to her.” Martian Manhunter stepped forward, looking her up and down.

“By my initial assessment, it is truly Wonder Woman.” He looked her in the eyes. “You are three centimeters shorter, though your heels are almost four centimeters higher. Your skull structure has shifted a little, which explains your larger eyes. Your lips are point-ten centimeters wider and in height. You have gain approximately two kilograms in weight, presumably from your larger breasts and hips—.”

“Hey…Marty…um…you really shouldn’t tell ladies that kind of stuff.” Flash interjected.

“Like, it’s totes fine, ‘kay?” Wonder Woman said.

“Your voice is the same, though shifted an octave or so, but I presume you didn’t truly mean to speak like a teenager?” Wonder Woman was careful not to respond. “Ah, yes, for you to explain might cause an additional change. I must think on this.” He stood still for moment. “It is likely you have been cursed. The idea appear to be to humiliate you, make you more feminine, overtly sexual in appearance, seem less intelligent.”

“When she tried to tell me more,” the Flash said, “she not only couldn’t say anything–actually, she insulted me–but then her, um, breasts got bigger, her costume shrunk, became more skimpy, that is, and fifteen minutes ago, she wasn’t a pure blonde.” He looked at Wonder Woman. “I guess what I’m saying is, try not to ask her any questions, let alone something where she might have to explain the problem.”

“Well,” Martian Manhunter said grimly, “she might have to try to explain herself–in the lab,” he added. “I’ll need to analyze the changes as they happen, otherwise we won’t be able to determine the source, or stop them. Let us go to the lab, and—.”

“Like, no, totally no, okay? I am not making myself more of a bimbo for you to measure me.” Wonder Woman stopped, a though hitting her. “No, wait. like, I totes have idea!” She giggled, unable to help herself, and not having wanted to. “Like seriously, guys, go to the lab. I’ll be there in a minute, ‘kay?”

—-

She started heading back to her room as the heroes went to the lab near the edge of the station. Back at her room, she froze, seeing herself in the full length mirror. Her top looked more like lingerie than anything else, and her armored skirt hung low on her noticeably wider hips to the point that there was a full hand’s width of bare skin around her waist. She turned to move to closet and saw that the bottom of her ass was plainly visible and the leather under-layer of her skirt was nothing more than a pair of cheeky boyshorts. She stripped naked, avoiding looking at herself in the mirror, and put on a robe. Even as she tied it, it became thin silk and just reached past her ass, though the change reassured her. She grabbed a pile of ‘civilian’ clothes and walked barefoot to the lab, her nipples were hard under the thin fabric and her large breasts bouncing more than she’d ever felt before, even when she’d used to run naked with her friends on Paradise Island. The guys were waiting in the lab, and Flash glanced away as she walked in, no doubt aware of her near-nudity.

“Wonder Woman, if you stand on the scanning platform, we can begin.” Martian Manhunter said.

“Like, don’t freak out, okay? I’m totally going to strip and get dressed. Run the scans, green man.” She added.

“Uh, I can, um, step out…” Flash said.

“Relax, red, my tit already popped out in front you, and you totes liked it!” Wonder Woman covered her mouth at the last bit. She’d been trying to reassure him, not embarrass him. He just nodded politely and moved to the far wall. “Okay, here goes…spring break!” She gritted her teeth at the exclamation as she dropped the robe. Martian Manhunter was looking at his instruments, but Flash was eying her body.

“I see you are not *fully* blonde.” Martian Manhunter said. Wonder Woman looked down at the groomed triangle of dark brown bush between her legs. “Has that changed?”

“I like people to have something to pet when they’re down there.” She said, grimacing as it came out. She’d simply meant to agree that her pubic hair was still the same. The Flash blushed almost as red as his costume. “Fuck.” She muttered, though she mostly meant it that time.

“Initial scan commencing. Stay still for a moment.” He paused. “All done. Genetic analysis indicates you are who you claim, and I’m seeing traces of old injuries that match with prior scans, so you’re not a clone, at least. I presume you brought your clothes in here for a reason?” She nodded and picked up a normal, nearly solid, pair of panties. As she pulled them on, as they reached her hips, they changed to sheer black lace thong. There was a small heart shaped cut-out at the top of the waistband where some of her pubic hair was visible. “Interesting.” Martian Manhunter Muttered. “Keep going. I will need at least a few more scans.” She started slipping on one of her bras, one that wouldn’t even fit her current size, but as she hooked it and slipped the straps over her shoulders, it not only fit, but boosted her cleavage. The bra matched her panties, sheer and lacy, with little hearts at the top of the cups. Her nipples were mostly visible, and she suddenly felt a little embarrassed, half-naked in front of her teammates. Martian Manhunter said nothing, and she took it as her cue to pull on her socks, but even as she slipped the first one over her toes, it rolled out as a matching lace black stocking. She rolled it up to her thigh and saw hearts circling her leg in the lace. The next sock did the same thing. She pulled on some pants that became a tight skirt as she buttoned it, and no matter what she tried, the straps of the thong poked above the waistband. The skirt just covered the lace tops of her stockings, but she knew if she sat down, they’d probably peek out. Finally, she pulled on a t-shirt, and as it fell over head, it became a deep v-neck, sleeveless so her bra straps were visible, and thin enough that you could see the shape of her nipples poking out in the cool air. “I might need you to start again. I need another reading.”

“Just a sec.” Flash said, and zipped out of the room. He returned with a pair of Diana’s shoes–she tried to separate that life from Wonder Woman–in his hand. The shoes were slip-on flats, something she often wore to work, but as she put one on, it became a spiky three-inch heel, the same with the other.

“I think, actually,” Martian Manhunter said, “that will complete my scans.” He looked up at her. “You may step off the platform.” It was easier said than done in the high heels, but she got down and walked over to his terminal.

“So, doc, what’s the damage, or do you need me to flash my tits again?” She asked, but glanced at the Flash. “No offense, red, I could see you getting hard across the room. Did you super-speed spank one out when you fetched my shoes? I don’t mind. This is a killer bod.” She clamped her hands over her mouth, not having meant to say anything like that other than asking Martian Manhunter for a report. Flash was staring at her, mouth hanging open. He shook his head, but said nothing.

“From what I can ascertain,” Martian Manhunter said, ignoring the tension in the air, “this not magic, not a curse in the traditional sense. I recorded a series of shifts in reality, and the final scans made it clear we are dealing with extra-dimensional energy. Magic shows up as something else entirely.”

“Great, so we’ve narrowed it down to everyone *but* magicians.” Flash said.

“Like, you’re not the one who is dressed like she’s ready for a threesome with Zatanna and Black Canary…” She rolled her eyes. Without even thinking about it, she pulled out her phone and took a selfie with the three of them.

“What are you doing?!” Flash asked. She felt compelled to ignore him and started pecking away at her phone. She stared down at her fingers moving of their own volition, posting the picture of her with Flash and Martian Manhunter. The camera had caught her cleavage perfectly, and she saw that she was smiling widely in the photo, though she hadn’t recalled doing it.

*Science-ing it up with with my best red and green friends. Makes a girl think xmas came early. #Superfriends #GoodBoobDay*

And then she posted it to her official account.

The phone trembled in her hand, and she watched as the photo went viral in moments, thousands of likes in seconds, re-shares…her feed started to blow up. She put the phone away.

“Why would you…oh my god!” The Flash looked at his own communicator, obviously seeing the result of the port. “Why would you post that? And the hashtag?” He glanced up at her. “Oh, god, don’t answer. Marty, she *had* to that. Something compelled her. This is worse than we thought. I’m contacting Batman again.” HE left the room.

“It appears we’re not just dealing with a physical issue, but rather behavioral as well. We’ll likely have to remove you from active duty.” Martian Manhunter said.

“Ugh! For reals, Green Day? All you care about is, like whether or not I can fight? I can totes throw down!” She punched a wall, leaving an imprint of her knuckles in the metal.

“Perhaps, but evil doesn’t leave time for selfies, however good a boob day you are having.” She grimaced. “You are suffering from an affliction. No one thinks it is your fault, or you truly acting like, but you must understand the liability your behavior presents? Even your armor is barely more than a costume, and based on my analysis, your weapons and wristbands are nothing more than trinkets. I’d like you leave those here for further analysis.”

“No way, they’re mine!” She said. She knew she could tell him she *had* to keep them close at hand.

“I really must insist. If you wish me to help in solving this problem, I will need more time to study items that have been affected.”

“I will punch you in your Granny Smith head if you try to take me things!” She snapped. You want something to sniff around at?” She reached up under her skirt and yanked down her thong, stepping out of it and handing it to him. “Sniff these!” She’d wanted to prevent him from taking her things, but the rest was Mr. Mxyzptlk’s work.

“I suppose that will do.” He said, placing the panties in a containment scanner. At the very least, Wonder Woman thought, it hadn’t been Flash. Martian Manhunter was entirely unruffled by her behavior. She left the lab and started back toward the kitchen. She needed more coffee and time to think, but what made her pause as she click-clacked in heels down the metal hallway was the warmth between her legs. It’s not as if the women of Paradise Island wore anything under their tunics, but walking around with no panties on was arousing her as if she was doing something unthinkable–naughty–the word came to her mind. She looked around, seeing that no one else was nearby. She reached under her skirt, and sure enough, she was slightly wet, and the very touch of her fingers made her more so.

“By the gods,” she said aloud, still in the girly voice but not stumbling over words, “it took all my effort to remove my hand.” She found that it pleased her to speak freely, not as an imbecile, and even two hours later, she found herself adjusting to the sound of her new voice. “I will need new panties if I am to get anything done today.” She said, luxuriating in her freedom of speech. “Coffee will have to wait until—,” she heard footsteps, “like, I can get a new pair of panties to cover my pussy.” Flash was walking up behind her. She wasn’t sure if he had heard her, and he didn’t look particularly embarrassed.

“Look, um, Wonder Woman, I know you’re saying–doing things–you can’t help, but I just want you know, I’m going to be professional, really. All of us want to help you as best we can…well, Batman say he’s still busy. He asked me to have Marty send over the scan data when he can. I just wanted to let you know, we’re working the problem.

“Thanks, for reals, red.” She said, and leaned in, whispering. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

“Dubs, come on…” He said, taking a step back.

“No, like really. The Jolly Green Martian wanted something to scan, so, I totes gave my thong.” She raised her skirt, giving him a glimpse of her bare pussy. “And like, I was walking down this hall, feeling the breeze between my legs, but getting,” she let out a little moan, “hot.” She smirked. “And wet.” She put a hand over her pussy and it felt like electricity shot through her–which she had actually experienced on several occasions. [See *The Less Sexy Adventure of Wonder Woman*, Issues 5, 14, 23, and 64. — Ed.]

“Dubs…Diana…really…I feel like you’re in an incapacitated state, and…”

“Has anyone ever let go as fast as you want? Like, *really* fucking go at it? You could do that with me. I won’t break. I promise.” In a breezy heartbeat, she found herself back in her room. When she went to the door, it was locked from the outside. “Hey, let me out, assholes!” She snapped, but she knew that the Flash was only trying to protect her. “At least fuck me first, before fucking me!” She yelled. She’d wanted out, and hadn’t meant to say the last bit. She was losing control over her actions around other people. Someone had to be outside the door, otherwise she could freely speak, and she still felt…horny. “Flash, baby, if you’re not going to fuck my wonder pussy, at least leave me alone, ‘kay? Just leave me alone.” She sighed. “Like, I just need time…to gather my wits and get over this damnable passion. Oh, thank the gods, he’s gone.” She slumped against the door, sliding to the floor. “Is this my life, now? Doomed to lust after any man of interest?” Her skirt was still bunched up at her hips, and she’d lost her shoes in being whisked away to her room. She ran her hand over the stockings, once plain socks, and felt her hand creeping higher up her thigh. She didn’t feel as strong an urge to touch herself, but it was still there. “Perhaps if I remove the temptation…” She said to herself.

Her fingers slid through the short curls of her bush, lower, to the waxed bit of her womanhood. Her pulse raced, and her fingers met the familiar warm and wet folds of her body. “By Athena, at least this is the same…” She teased at her opening, but she was still wet and ready, fingers sliding in and out, warmth spreading through her body, she toyed with her new, larger breasts, and found her nipples sensitive, but pleasurably so, more than before. She started reach under her shirt but thought better off it, instead, tearing off her top and and bra in two tugs. The fabric gave way like tissue paper under her strength. Her breasts fell free in the remnants of her clothes, and she moaned aloud as she teased her nipples with her free hand. She moved her other fingers up to her clit and gasped, pleasure well through her, recognizable, but more intense than ever before. A thought passed through her to raise a nipple to her tongue, but even with the new size, she couldn’t quite reach. “Oh gods, oh…gods…” She neared orgasm, feeling a torrent of wetness between her legs, nearly dripping, and as she came, she moaned and squirted, something she’d never done before, but it was a complete loss of control in the pleasure. She felt mildly spent, but invigorated. She knew this wasn’t the end of her travails, but at the very least it wasn’t all bad.

**End Part 1**

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6g8srs/mr_mxyzptlk_and_the_wonders_of_woman_part_1