[Note – Part 1 is titled, oddly enough, “Mr. Mxyzptlk and the Wonders of Woman: Part 1” and can found on this very subreddit. Sorry, links are not allowed.]
**Part 2: The Unmaking of Wonder Woman, Well, Her Clothes, At Least**
Wonder Woman was locked in her room. Neither the Flash nor Martian Manhunter would answer her calls, and she assumed they were working on her problem, but it had apparently been decided to avoid contact with her. She didn’t bother putting on more clothes, knowing they’d only shrink on her anyway. She opted to put on her already morphed silk robe, lounging on her bed and watching reality TV for several hours. She found it fascinating, the yelling, the in-fighting, they way the people dressed and talked. She recognized her speech pattern from many of the women, the outfit choices too. Mortals were strange.
At six, Martian Manhunter phased through a wall with a tray of food and drink, wine, which was nice, as Amazon’s didn’t consider food a meal without wine. He set the food at her side table and waited.
“Like, so, am I a prisoner now? We go from, um, teammates, to like, um, scientist and experiment in one day?” Wonder Woman stood up. “You’re the scientist, in case you’re, like, wondering.”
“I deduced as much. The Flash said you attempted to have intercourse with him.”
“I, like, offered to have sex. I totes didn’t even touch him! Like, OMG! Most men wouldn’t wait a heartbeat to take this,” she grabbed her boobs, “and he could totally go *faster* than that!”
“Wonder Woman, prior to your, well, transformation, would you have desired to have intercourse with the Flash?”
“He’s cute.” She said, pouting.
“And yet, it has been years, and neither of you has made any effort to pursue it. We are worried you are not entirely in control of yourself.” He looked to the shredded clothes on the floor. “Am I incorrect that you are finding yourself unusually aroused?” She said nothing, couldn’t say anything. “I’ll take your silence as an answer. As for my research, I’ve made progress.” He withdrew a pair of her underwear from his belt pouch. “These were the pair you gave me. As you can see, I’ve managed to revert them to their original form. I’d like you to put them on.” She stepped forward, taking the panties from him. She pulled on the tan panties, nearly matching her skin tone, and they stay their same color, shape, and size.
“Oh my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods!” She leapt forward, hugging Martian Manhunter. She didn’t even care that her robe was undone, and her bare breasts were pressed to his chest. “Like, you can fix me, you can do it!”
“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he said, taking a step back, “but my hypothesis indicates this will be more problematic. I would like you to accompany me to the lab again. Bring a few pieces of clothes, but you need not dress completely, if you wish. Have dinner first, though. I will need to prepare the lab for at least an hour.”
“I get it, Green Mile. You’ll come get me in an hour, though, right?” She asked. He nodded. He phased back through the wall, leaving her to her meal. She saw herself in the mirror again, this time wearing fairly conservative panties. She could see the shadow of her pubic hair, the shape of her pussy, but it was normal, everyday underwear, with just a hint of lace at the waistband. She closed her robe ad sat at her table, opening the wine, and pouring herself a glass. The bottle of red was her favorite, a robust Cabernet that would go great with the lamb chops that waited for her on her plate. Someone on the station new what she like, at least. She took a sip of the wine, and while it didn’t make her gag, she just didn’t find it appealing. “Like, an Appletini or Cosmo would be sooo good right now.” She cooed. Something sweet, she thought, but then she realized what she’d said. “Like,” she looked up at the ceiling, “you guys are totes monitoring me right now! Not cool, guys, come on!” She took a long drink of the wine, and found it was slightly more palatable after half a glass. “By the gods, how am I supposed to eat with feeling—.” She looked up. “They must have stopped, then.”
She reached for the knife and form, but was overtaken by an urge to pull out her phone again. She took a series of photos of her food, and watched as her hands moved once more of their own will. She posted a couple photos.
*Dinner on the Watch Tower. Wine, lamb, and me-time. #AllMyFaves*
After the post went live, she could focus, and saw that not only had she take pictures of her food, but managed to include her bare legs in frame in one and a lot of her cleavage in the other. While nothing was outright exposed, it was obvious she was wearing nothing under the robe. Once again, the numbers quickly shot up on the posts, and she was furious with herself, the bulk of the comments sexual or condemning in nature. She tried to delete the posts, but her hands wouldn’t obey her. She gave up, putting the phone away and eating her meal. In her haze of anger, she hadn’t even noticed she finished a whole bottle of wine. It wasn’t a problem, really, as her metabolism wouldn’t let her stay drunk for long, but she was feeling surprisingly good when she got up from the table. She gathered a few items of un-altered clothing and went to the wall comm.
“So, like, I’m ready, or whatever.” She said.
“I will unlock the door. Proceed directly to the lab. In case you are tempted, be aware, all other routes through the station will be closed off to you.” Martian Manhunter was being careful, and probably with good reason from his perspective, but she knew she was strong enough to tear through the walls if she needed to. Yes, there was the vacuum of space outside, but she was fairly confident she could survive re-entry into the Earth’s atmosphere if she managed to get her hands on a spacesuit. Hitting the ground would hurt, but it wouldn’t kill her. She burped, and then laughed.
“Gods, but I *am* drunk!” She laughed again, hearing her normal speech patterns, but the silly, girlish voice making the sounds. A thought crossed her mind, and in her current state of inebriation, she didn’t really care if it was the wine or Mr. Mxyzptlk’s doing. She took off her robe and panties and proceeded naked into the hallway, naked except for her purse, bangles, and choker, that is. It wasn’t the first time she’d been without clothes in the halls of the Watch Tower, but the last time had been because of a shower being interrupted by an attack. [See *The Mildly Exploitative Tales of Wonder Woman*, Issue 34 — Ed.] She walked down the halls, feeling the air conditioning on her bare skin, getting goosebumps, her nipples hard. When she got to the lab, Martian Manhunter was the only one there. She was slightly disappointed. He didn’t even react to her nudity.
“Excellent.” He said. “Come over to this machine,” he pointed to a large pod-like structure, and remove everything your are wearing.” Her eyes got wide. “It is my assessment that you need to near the items in your possession, but they need not be physically touching you at all times. They will be within one meter of you, and I swear, I will not remove them from your possession. Given the nature of this *disruption* of your reality,” he had stopped using the word *curse*, “the rules have some flexibility, but I have no wish to make you change more than you have.”
“It’s okay, Mean Green Machine, I trust you.” She took off her choker, the bangles, and her purse, setting them in a tray next to the machine. She blushed, clutching the small collection of clothes she’d brought in front of her bare chest. “Like, ugh! I’m soooo embarrassed right now!” She felt flushed, her breath short, as if Martian Manhunter was staring at her, which he wasn’t, but the sensation completer exposure was nearly overwhelming. A desperate urge to grab her purse, her bangles, her choker, was filling her mind. “Like, you totes need to hurry your ass up, Greenie.” She got inm the machine.
“Very well. Begin dressing. Allow the changes to occur. When you are finished, the pod door will close, and I will attempt my experiment.” She nodded, pulling on a pair of black boyshorts. As the moved over her hips, tight in her slightly fuller size, the re-shaped themselves into a similar style, but cut much high up her ass, and all black mesh. Her original bra wouldn’t even fit over her breasts anymore, but as it re-shaped itself, it matched her panties, becoming sheer mesh with small diamond windows where her nipples poked through. She followed that with a knee-length skirt that shrunk down to midway up her thigh and slit up the side, almost exposing part of her panties. The blouse she buttoned up turned from red to white, so her black bra was clearly visible underneath, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t button the top two buttons, leaving generous cleavage.
“All done, doc.” She said.
“Commencing test.” She felt nervous, still embarrassed, even with clothes on, though she was fairly certain in the right light you’d be able to see her nipples, and even beyond her drunkenness, she was hopeful this would work. The pod door slid shut, and the machine hissed. A moment later a blue, then green, light washed over her. She felt tingly all over, and then the light flashed again, this time longer, then once more. Finally, the door to the pod opened. “Step out of the pod please.” He said.
“So, like, um, did it work, or what?” She asked.
“Your clothes.” She looked down. “They’ve somewhat reverted.” It was true. The blouse was red, and she could button it, the skirt back to being a deep navy knee-length skirt with no slit. She unbuttoned her shirt a bit, then unzipped her skirt. Her underwear was all back to normal. “Though, as you may have noticed, *you* are still the same as you were, and even your clothes, while normal-looking, have only reverted in style, not to their original sizes. The brassiere fits you perfectly, the blouse and skirt, fit to your slightly larger proportions. “I’d like to run one more test on your possessions.” He nodded to the tray. “You may, of course, stay close.” Wonder Woman frowned. She’d hoped that would have been the end of it, but she was still blonde, still a C-cup, when before she’d barely been a B, and she realized she’d known that as soon as she stepped out of the pod. Her voice was still different, and she was still unable to speak clearly about her situation. Martian Manhunter placed the tray of her belonging in the pod, then initiated the experiment again.
“What is, um, like, what is this supposed to do?”
“I determined the signature of the energies that change you and, ostensibly, created a reverse energy signature.” He tapped at his control panel and the lights in the pod grew brighter and stayed that way longer. “Unfortunately,” he tapped the panel and machine shut down, the door re-opening, “the amount of energy necessary to revert matter, yourself included, grows significantly as time passes after the change. The more something remains in existence in this reality, the more it wants to stay that way. Your clothes, for example, were relatively easy, though it still took 28% of the Station’s energy capacity to revert them. Bases on the test I just did with your possessions, it would require the power of a star, the sun itself, to revert them to their normal structure.”
“So, like, that’s it?! I’m stuck like this?!”
“I am sorry, Wonder Woman. Given the nature of your situation, I must assume there are conditions for it to stop or be undone, but I also assume you are unable to tell me.” She said nothing. “So, at this point, it seems as if you should stay on the Station for however long it takes to correct the situation.”
“I, like, want to leave.” She said.
“The path back to your room is still open.” He said.
“No, like, I want to leave the Station.”
“Wonder Woman, I strongly advise—.”
“You can’t, you know, stop me, Swamp Thing, but I’m saying, like, that’s what I’m *totally* going to do, ‘ kay?” She caught his eye. “You can, you know, be a hater, or not.”
“What do you need?” He sighed.
—-
Late into the evening, Wonder Woman worked with Martian Manhunter. The goal was to build her a somewhat reasonable wardrobe, so she collected some tops, bottoms, shoes, and other items, putting them on the pod, letting them transform, and then reverting then back. After the first round, Martian Manhunter explained it would take days just to build enough energy in the Station reserves to change her whole collection.
“I apologize, but if you wish to leave the Station soon, I would recommend forgoing anything but out layers, and perhaps one or two pairs of shoes.” He said.
“Like, if it were anyone but you, String Bean, I totes think it was a ploy to make me go commando, but I understand.” Even the naughtiest underwear would still be covered by normal clothes. Part of her felt that she didn’t even mind the prospect of wearing the skimpy thongs or see-thru bras. Nearing midnight, Station time, she had four tops, two skirts and two pairs of pants, and three pairs of shoes. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing…literally in this case. She was naked, and had been for much of the time in the lab, though she was back to wearing her accessories. Seeing the time on the wall, she walked over to Martian Manhunter. “Like you need to trust me, ‘kay?” She couldn’t explain herself, but she could warn him, at least. She got on her knees and massaged the front of his shorts. He looked down at her, his expression not changing. “Like, try to enjoy it, at least.” She didn’t know what to expect when she pulled down his shorts, but it wasn’t too surprising. His member was the same green color as the rest of him, though much smoother than a normal man, and hairless, like the rest of him. She stroked him, and he started getting hard, though there was no other reaction on his part. “Does it, like, all work the same?”
“Martian and human physiology are distant, but still related.”
“You could hate totes just said yes, Elisabeth Moss.” He looked down at her. “Moss is green, dummy.” Once he was hard, and surprisingly hot, in her hand, she brought her mouth down on him. He stood still as statue, and while he wasn’t reacting, her mind was filling with fantasies of him fucking her, his cock so hard and hot, hotter than a human, harder, smooth, like a sex toy. She didn’t even have a vibrator, but now she wanted one. She imagined herself using it. She felt herself getting wet, grabbing one of her bare breasts with a free hand, she let herself enjoy the fantasies. Even as a Martian she could taste him nearing the point of coming. He was salty, much more than any come she’d tasted before, though it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. She slipped her mouth from his cock, and started pumping him. He came, spurting hard on her chest, his come hot like a shower spray, and a light violet color. She gritted her teeth, but still spoke. “Like, all men are better than me.” After she said it, two-foot high glowing blue message appeared above their heads: 1 of 2,000,000!!!
Martian Manhunter dashed to the control panel in the lab, cock still hanging out, attempting to get readings on the slowly fading display. After ten seconds, it was gone, and Wonder Woman walked over to him, still spattered in violet come.
“It is all the same energy, and thus, I assume, all part of the same…disruption. I am truly sorry, Wonder Woman. I see now what you face. It may well be a long road ahead of you. If I could, I would help you more, but I am only capable of ejaculating once a month.” She looked at him quizzically. “My home was dry place. Evolution derived alternate ways for us to retain fluids. Perhaps if I could synthesize an artificial ejaculate, we could spray you with it as you repeat your trigger phrase, and—.” Wonder Woman started laughing, high, pealing, girlish giggles.
“Oh my gods, no!” She choked back laughter. “No, like, just, no…I can’t *even*! You want to shoot me with a come gun! Really! Like, how do we explain this to, like, anyone? No. I’d rather take one million nine hundred thousand and whatever loads to the face. Like, you guys will figure something out before then, hopefully. You come up with something better, give me buzz. I’ll be on Earth. Right now, I, like, need to get this purple rain off of me, ‘kay? Send my fixed clothes to me room by morning, and get a shuttle prepped to take me down to Earth.” She kissed him on the cheek. “And, like, you might want to put your pea pod away before Flash or someone walks in. She stroked his soft member, and that time, she thought she saw a shift in his expression.
As Wonder Woman walked back to her room, her hand went to her phone once more. She stopped in the hallway and posed for selfie from high above. She twitched, trying to fight her movements, especially as she was still completely nude and covered in Martian Manhunter’s come, but it wasn’t even a contest.
*Late night snack, guys. I got grape jelly *all* over me. #ILoveGrapeJelly #MessyButFun*
As her fingers posted the message, she breathed a sigh of relief. No one but Martian Manhunter would recognize the substance on her neck and chest, and while the photo strongly hinted she was topless, her nipples weren’t visible. She made it back to her room without additional interruptions and went straight to the shower. She was nervous about leaving her purse outside the shower, but there wasn’t much else she could do. She washed off all the traces of Martian Manhunter but found her hand with the showerhead drifting down between her legs. When the spray hit her pussy, she hissed with pleasure. She was no virgin, but she wasn’t raised with the same experiences as normal humans…discovering pleasure in the shower was new to her. She rode the spray, and nearly crushed the showerhead as she started to come, moaning, almost squealing in her high voice, but enjoying it all the same.
Out of the shower, she knew what she wanted to do, where she wanted to go, had planned for such contingencies–maybe not the exact one of being a nymphomaniac–but she had a fallback plan, a place to stay, something to do, if she wanted to. She got on her phone and switched identities, not to Diana Prince, but someone else, a lesser known employee of her company, one who was almost always on the road–Jennifer Casey, Junior VP of Design and Acquisitions. Jenny existed on paper, paid her bills online–via a trust–and conveniently enough, was blonde, something she’d normally accomplish with a wig. The first real thing Jenny did was order a really expensive vibrator from Amazon. [Amazon is not affiliated with Wonder Woman — Ed.] It would probably be waiting at her apartment when she arrived on Earth. She went to bed satisfied, though Martian Manhunter was right, there was a long road ahead of her, regardless of who she’d be the next day.
**End Part 2**
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6hlk5q/mr_mxyzptlk_and_the_wonders_of_woman_part_2