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A Happy Princess (Wonder Woman)
🕑 Added 2020-02-07 19:26:23 +0000 UTCPrompt Poll Winner
Themes: Violence, Rough Sex, Master/Slave
Summary: Based on this picture. Shortly after her victory over Ares and the end of World War 1, Diana is captured by mysterious enemies who have every intention of finding out what makes her tick. However, when he uses her own Golden Lasso of Truth on her, the interrogator is just as surprised as Diana to find out that deep down inside, she's nothing more than a masochistic pig slut desperate to be hurt, to be fucked, and to be used and abused by a man. In the end, what starts out as imprisonment becomes completely willing submission as Wonder Woman gives in to her basest desires.
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“Hello, Princess.”
A shiver runs down Diana’s spine as the voice of the man who’s been her only company for some months now wash over her. She licks her lips and speaks up, knowing better than to disobey.
“Hello… sir.”
There’s a chuckle at that, and then a hand comes down on her already red bottom, spanking her harshly, violently even, and drawing a cry of pain followed by a moan of pure, honest arousal from the Themyscirian Princess’ throat. The smack quickly turns into a grope, which given her abused backside, is just as painful… and just as pleasurable.
“My dear… look at the state of you.”
She knows what she looks like at this point. She knows the sorry state she’s in. She just… can’t really bring herself to care anymore. No, that’s not quite right. It’s more accurate to say that the Themyscirian Princess is reveling in her humiliation, in her embarrassment, and in her degradation. She’s not even bound, at this point. They’ve left her with her skirt, her greaves, her vambraces, and even her helm. They’ve torn her undergarments asunder however, and removed her top as well, leaving her torso completely nude.
On her hands and knees, her tits hanging beneath her, Diana could have gotten up and escaped at any time she wanted. Her wrists are not shackled, nor are her ankles. And yet, she stays where she is, arching her whipped back and moaning from the touch of the man standing behind her, even as the Golden Lasso of Truth remains wrapped around her neck.
That’s the only bit of bondage that the Princess of Themyscira is currently under. Her lasso, glowing golden as ever, is currently slid around her neck like a noose, the rest of it hanging from a hook on the wall above her. If she’d wanted to, she could have stood up, taken the lasso off of herself, pulled it from the hook, and began making her escape.
She doesn’t though, because in the end, Diana is no longer trying to escape. While initially she’d been captured and locked up, things had changed… dramatically.
“Shall we go through the usual to begin with, Princess? Tell me what you are.”
She feels the lasso compelling her to honesty, and unlike the first time around, Diana doesn’t even fight it as she croaks out her answer.
“I am your slave… Master.”
She can practically hear the grin in his voice as he hums.
“And what were you, once upon a time?”
“I-I was a warrior, an Amazonian… I was the Princess of Themyscira.”
“And was that where you belonged? With a sword in your hand? Were you meant to be a warrior?”
Once upon a time, Diana had thought the answer to that question was yes. But the truth was, she’d been lying to herself all her life. Strong, proud, and powerful. That was what Diana had aspired to be, because it was all she’d thought was possible. She’d never known there was another option, never known about the World of Man.
Ignorance truly was bliss, in the end. After the end of the Great War, after her defeat of Ares and the lost of Steve Trevor, Diana had decided to stay in Man’s World. Perhaps she shouldn’t have, perhaps she should have gone home and continued to live blissfully unaware of what pain… and pleasure awaited her in the World of Man.
Instead, Diana had learned things. She’d taken to Man’s World like a fish to water, doing her level best to fit in with society. She’d learned of a woman’s place in society, of what they were thought of as, and while at first she’d rebelled at such inequality, at the thought of submitting to any man, the idea had nevertheless been planted in the back of the Princess of Themyscira’s mind.
In the end…
“N-No… I was never meant to be a warrior. No woman should have a, a-ah, sword in her hands…”
A chuckle, from her Master as he suddenly slides around in front of her, and his cock is abruptly in her face.
“Well, it depends on the kind of sword, doesn’t it my dear?”
She doesn’t need any further prompting, her hands come up and she grips her Master’s cock with both, slowly sliding her palms up and down his length as she bites her lower lip, looking up at him with ‘fuck me’ eyes. She really was a needy little thing now.
“So then, you know your proper place now, don’t you slut?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Tell me where you belong, Princess.”
Once upon a time, Diana had been proud of her title. Princess of Themyscira… what wasn’t to be proud of? But now, the way he uses it… it’s merely another source of humiliation, his tone as he labels her princess snide and irreverent, his view of her obviously lower than low. He means no respect when he calls her a princess, and they both know it. It turns Diana on immensely.
Stroking his cock up and down with her hands, the lassoed beauty continues to answer honestly.
“I belong here, Master. On my knees, groveling before you, like the masochistic pig I am. I want you to hurt me, I want you to beat me… I want you to use me as you will, Master. Please… please give it to me. Punish me for being such an ungrateful bitch who didn’t know her place.”
She means every word of it too. And that’s the point, in the end. Back on Themyscira, Diana hadn’t even known most of those words, or at the very least she hadn’t known them in this contest. Masochistic pig… it was not something that any Themyscirian would ever label themselves as. They were a proud culture of warrior women, after all.
But Diana can’t help but wonder if her sisters, if her mother… if they might deep down feel the same way she does. Is it possible that they’re all denying their true selves, just like she was? Is the entirety of Themyscira, an all women’s paradise without men, built on warrior culture… a lie? Or maybe not a lie, but at least a society born out of ignorance and the lack of men to dominate and conquer the Amazonians and put them in their place, just like Diana has been put in hers.
Her Master brings a crop down on her back from behind, and a cry of exquisite pain and pleasure erupts from Diana’s lips as she arches her spine. Her naked back is already covered with whip marks as it is, her entire body bruised and beaten and a little bloody in several places. There are tear tracks etched into her face, and her eyes are a strange paradox of watery and dry, even as she licks her parched lips.
When her Master pushes his cock forward, Diana is ready and willing to take him into her mouth, opening wide as she lets him thrust forward past her lips. A muffled moan leaves her throat, only to be choked off when he shoves his length unceremoniously right down her esophagus, choking and gagging her on his dick right from the very beginning. One hand comes down to take hold of her raven black hair, while the other continues to bring the riding crop down across her back, causing reverberating screams and squeals to flow up the length of his pistoning prick.
“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”
“That’s right, you little piggie. Fucking take it Princess, take every bit of it. God, I still can’t believe you turned out to be such a whorish pain slut. I was looking forward to breaking you either way, but to find out you’re willing? That makes it so much better.”
Yes, she remembers back before her and her Master had come to this… understanding. When she’d initially been captured, they’d held her in far more secure circumstances, shackling her wrists and ankles with such strong steel that not even she could break free. But she’d been defiant all the same, of course, fighting them in both mind and body.
It wasn’t until her Master was brought in that things changed. She still remembered that very first day, where he’d presented her with her own lasso… and then tied her up in it. He’d immediately set in, forcing her to answer question after question. Diana had fought, of course, just as Steve had back in Themyscira. She’d fought to not answer anything that might endanger her Amazonian sisters… so her Master had turned to other questions, more personal questions.
He’d broken down her defiance by bringing out her true self first. Diana had been just as shocked as he was when he’d first made her tell him the truth about her desires, about how deep down inside the moment that she’d learned what Man’s World was really like, she’d secretly desired to be a part of it… as a woman, not a warrior. And then he’d gone further and brought out the even deeper truth… that she wasn’t just a woman, she was a pig, a submissive pain slut desperate for a man to step in and grind her under the heel of his boot.
Diana chokes on her Master’s cock, eyes rolling around in her skull, even as he smacks her back with the crop again and again. Eventually, he moves onto her ass, drawing up her blue skirt and reddening her already red bottom even further. The Princess of Themyscira takes every bit of it, and happily at that. She takes her punishment, her beating, and her skull fucking like the good little masochistic bitch she is, all the way up until her Master finally cums.
When he does, he pulls out a second before and makes sure to plaster her face in his jizz, coating her from forehead to chin in his white, hot seed. Diana flinches, but with his grip on her raven black hair held fast, she’s not going anywhere any time soon, as he cums all over her beautiful features. Once he’s done with that, the man releases her hair, reaching down to grope one of her bruised tits for a moment, drawing another mixed moan of pleasure and pain from Diana’s lips.
“Face down, ass up bitch.”
She immediately obeys, though it causes the Lasso of Truth to dig into her throat a bit as the golden rope goes taut between her and the hook above her. Still, a little asphyxiation isn’t going to stop Diana from obeying like the horny little pig slut she is. Pressing her cum-coated face into the floor, the Princess of Themyscira lifts her ass into the air in turn, offering herself to her Master. Literally, as she reaches back and uses her hands to spread her thighs apart, just the way she knows he likes.
He chuckles, and then a moment later is inside of her, fucking her. His cock, which moments before had been down her throat, is now in her drooling quim. She’s absurdly wet, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting, her pussy sore from near-constant abuse. Just earlier that day, he’d paddled her ass and pussy and thighs all, smacking them with the wooden thing and telling her that if she had grown up in Man’s World, she’d have learned to take a paddling when she was younger.
Diana had thanked him for it, and she thanks him now as well, moaning throatily as he plows her from above, jackhammering into her cunt with every last inch of his cock.
“T-Thank you, Master! A-Ah, thank you for f-fucking me, thank you for b-beating me! Please, don’t stop! Please fuck me some more!”
He does just that, using and abusing her to his heart’s content, treating her like his own personal chew toy, as his own fuck pet, like he has been since the lasso had revealed her true desires that day. The first time he’d used her, Diana had been reluctant and unsure. But it’d felt too good… the second time, she’d been more willing.
Now? Now the Princess of Themyscira had wholeheartedly embraced her new life as a slave to this man, as his fuck toy. She was little more than a masochistic pig slut after all, and she was lucky he was even willing to give her the time of day. She was worthless, lower than dirt, lower than the scum on the bottom of his boot. And yet still he gave her everything she needed, he beat her, fucked her, used her, and abused her.
When her Master cums inside of her finally, filling her womb with his seed, Diana has already climaxed half a dozen times around his rough, pistoning prick. And yet, she still feels disappointment, letting out a mewling sound of despair at the thought that they’re done again, that she will once again be left alone here until the next time her Master has use of her.
Oh sure, it’s only right. Diana knows that now, she knows this is where she belongs… but even still, she doesn’t like being left behind each time. It’s the only part of the entire experience that she doesn’t truly enjoy. She wants… she wants to remain at this man’s side for the rest of her life, in whatever form that might ultimately take.
Which is why it’s a pleasant surprise when, rather than leaving her there as he has every other time, her Master takes the Golden Lasso of Truth off of its hook and gives it’s a tug, dragging her face up off of the floor and pulling her back to her hands and knees.
“Come along, little piggie. Let’s go and get you cleaned up. You’re starting to smell.”
Despite his blunt words, despite his callous demeanor, he’s almost gentle when he finally gets her into the bath, having stripped her of the rest of her armor and garments. As his hands run over her body, slowly washing away the aches and sores and the pain, while also causing a delicious stinging sensation as he soaps up her cuts and bruises, Diana relaxes… and knows that she’s finally, truly home.
