Wonder Woman - Twisted Dominion Ch. 01

I figured I'd get my Literotica account up to speed with all of my lewd stories. Might as well start with my most popular work, Wonder Woman: Twisted Dominion.

All characters involved are 18+. Wonder Woman is owned by DC Comics.

- - -

Prologue

Breaking into Lex Luthor's private archives had become laughably easy. Mark had done it enough times that it had become routine at this point. He even knew the guard's name. Jeff Stokely, a third-stringer football player in high school who never had a chance at an athletics scholarship. So he worked night shift security at Luthor's off-site archive warehouse to pay his way through college. A nice-enough guy that Mark took steps so that he wouldn't get fired.

Mark Messner may have been a thief but he wasn't an asshole.

"Sir, this area is for employees only." As always, Security Guard Jeff didn't recognize him. And with the way Mark's powers worked, the poor sap never would.

"No need to worry, Jeff. I'm not here to cause any trouble." Mark kept his smile warm and friendly as he approached the front desk. He drew one hand from his coat pocket and held it up, gesturing for Jeff to stay seated.

As always, Jeff stood up anyway, his eyes narrowing at the intruder.

"How do you know my name?"

"We've met a few times. But don't worry about not remembering. It happens to everyone."

"Uh-huh." Jeff didn't buy it. As always. "I'm gonna need to see some ID."

Mark kept smiling, his posture relaxed and his eyes friendly. Jeff really was a good worker. Mark made a mental note to come back sometime to talk with the Security Head and get his buddy a raise or some extra vacation days.

"No, you don't." Mark said, stuffing his hand back into his pocket. "In fact, in about ten seconds you're not going to remember me. You're not going to remember having this conversation."

Jeff frowned, his brow furrowing as a look of uncertainty fell across his face. "Who the hell..."

"Sit back down, Jeff." Mark told him firmly but not unkindly. "Enjoy a peaceful night shift. Listen to some podcasts, Joe Rogan or whatever you like, order yourself some pizza. And once I'm gone an hour from now, you're going to scrub all the security footage from the lobby and the archive room. Alright?"

"Right..." Jeff's eyes, a minute ago being sharp and observant, had now glazed over. The security guard slowly sat back down in his chair, staring off into space as if Mark wasn't five feet away. Hell, it was as if Mark hadn't been there at all. "Listen to... Joe Rogan... Call... Domino's..."

Mark continued on past the front desk, smirking.

"Atta boy."

From there, it was cake. A warehouse full of secrets and files and secret files, all ripe for the taking. Mark strolled down the wide valleys, flanked on both sides by crates, cabinets, shelves, and the odd scrapped power suit - likely created to fight Superman.

Most thieves would think twice before crossing Lex Luthor, but that was the true beauty of the situation: the risk was at an absolute minimum. Mark was no idiot. He knew that most thieves got caught because they got greedy. They would try and go after the white whale, the big diamond, the ivory tusk. And, because they went for a high-profile target, they got stuck with high-profile attention.

Mark took steps to avoid that very scenario. Thus, he didn't rob Luthor of his money. He didn't rob Luthor of his shiny new toys from his R&D department. No, that would be the fastest way to get himself "disappeared". Instead, Mark was here at Luthor's Archives. The failed and rejected projects that were too expensive - or too much of a hassle - to scrap altogether.

There was the familiar saying, "one man's trash is another man's treasure". In this case, a rich man's trash would feed a thief for a year. Or five. Not that Mark was hurting for cash. Quite the opposite. But still, he got a kick out of rooting through Luthor's warehouse-sized wastebasket.

The friendly thief finally came to a stop beside a familiar cabinet. Intel files, dirt on government officials, pesky superheroes, even fellow supervillains. Mark had been coming to this warehouse for months now and he still hadn't taken the time to browse those particular juicy reads. But as the saying went, there was a first time for everything.

"What shocking discoveries have you got in store for me in there, Luthor?" Mark jokingly asked as he opened the file cabinet. "I wonder if there are any other supervillains who used to be gorillas. Wild stuff."

He scanned through the tabs on the files and his eyes fell on the letter "W".

W... Mark pursed his lips, thinkin. Wonder what's in there... Wonder... Wonder Woman...

Mark felt a rush of excitement, his spine going ramrod straight as if being struck by lightning. Luthor might have some dirt on Wonder Woman. The possibility was... tantalizing. Images filled the thief's head, images of the Amazonian herself. Tall, legs for miles, great swaths of bare skin, her "battle-dress" that was more like a blue miniskirt and a red and gold corset - A very tight red and gold corset. And she somehow made it look regal and elegant instead of skimpy.

The thief quickly flipped through the files, hoping he'd find his white whale. To his silent jubilation, his eyes eventually fell upon a folder titled "Wonder Woman".

Not "Weather Wizard".

Not "Wotan".

Not "Wildcat".

Wonder Woman.

"Wonder Woman, huh?" Mark murmured as he softly slipped the file out of the cabinet, taking a seat on a nearby crate. "Been coming to this joint for months and I just now got the idea to check for something like this. Unbelievable."

Smirking like a kid who successfully stole from the cookie jar, Mark flipped the file open and started to read. Minutes passed. He read... and he re-read... and he re-read again. Slowly, his smile faded and his eyes went from glowing with excitement to burning with realization.

"Oh." He said quietly as the words printed on the pages began to fully settle into his mind. "Oh, wow. Oh, shit."

He stood up from the crate so quickly that the papers in his hands nearly went spilling into the air. He clutched them in his fingers, accidentally pressing too hard and having the tan folder buckle and bend under his thumb.

Mark's heart was beating, not because of anxiety or danger, but because of the possibilities that were racing through his head. The file in his hands was a goddamn gold mine.

"Damn, Luthor..." Mark almost laughed. He quickly pulled out his phone and opened the camera app. He knew he couldn't just take the file and run. Pictures would have to suffice for personal reading back home. He started snapping photos, taking each page in methodical sequence. "You've been sitting on something like this for five years? Gold like this never stays buried..."

- - -

The Messner Estate was a much safer - and more comfortable - place for focused reading. Mark had retreated to his personal study where he now sat quietly at his desk. The photos he had taken were easy enough to upload to his desktop computer, now displayed on his large monitor.

One o' clock in the morning was the time displayed at the lower right hand of the screen. Mark had been reading and re-reading the material for over an hour and he still could hardly believe it.

Years ago, Wonder Woman had been enthralled by a villainess, put under a mystic spell that bound the Amazon to another woman's twisted will. For a brief period, anyway, if the contents of Luthor's file were to be believed. The villainess barely had time to enjoy her victory before being assassinated on Luthor's orders.

And the real kicker: the enchantment that put Wonder Woman under thrall was never removed. At least, there's no mention of such happening in the file. And Mark knew from his previous forays into the billionaire's archives that the brilliant baldy was very, very thorough in his research.

It was a big reason why Mark had been so excited: There was a very real chance that the Amazing Amazon was walking around with the back door to her mind wide open. And as far as Luthor's spies could tell, she and the rest of the Justice League had no idea.

Of course, being a red-blooded man with a red-blooded man's needs and desires, this juicy information sent Mark's mind racing. Hell, on the way back home the young thief couldn't help but think about the possibilities.

Wonder Woman. He could see her when he closed his eyes. Long, luxurious hair, raven black with an impossible sheen. The powerful beauty of her face, her striking cheekbones and elegant jawline making her look as if she were chiseled from stone. The full lips, naturally plump and flushed pink. The dazzling blue eyes. The dominant swell of her bosom flaring out against the red and gold bustier. On a mortal woman, those breasts would have looked comically large, but not on her. Not on Wonder Woman.

And lower still were her legs. Covered only partially by wedge-heeled amazonian boots and her deep blue "battle-skirt", the Amazon's legs provided an abundance for many a man to fawn over. It was near-impossible for Mark himself to describe, the lovely curve of her calves flowing beautifully into the lushness of her thighs. Mark had more sense than to break into wolf-whistles, but damn did Wonder Woman get his heart pumping.

The thought of a woman like that being at his beck and call, completely beholden to his whims and desires...

It was too good to be true. It had to be.

"Wonder Woman gets mind-controlled..." Mark murmured, as if saying it out loud would make it any more believable. He leaned back in his chair, idly stroking his chin. "Luthor has her slavemaster removed from play... But he never makes a move himself?"

Mark frowned, thinking about the absurdity of it... As well as the implications if it were true.

The "intelligence" files were dated five years ago. Did that mean that it happened five years ago or that Luthor learned about it five years ago? A lot could happen in five years, too. Maybe this info was obsolete. Maybe Luthor did try his hand at taming the Amazing Amazon and he failed.

But wouldn't the public have heard about it, then?

Mark thought about it for a moment. Lex Luthor taking Wonder Woman as his mighty mistress would have made waves. Waves that even Mark himself would have felt. A master thief keeps a low profile as a rule, but Mark still made sure to know about comings and goings of the underground. It helped him make sure who to hit and who not to hit.

"Luthor knew and he never made a move..." Mark linked his fingers together, resting his elbows on his desk. "Too high profile for him? Or maybe the man had bigger fish to fry. Hmm. Too big a fish for me, anyhow..."

Mark Messner, Master Thief clicked his tongue, his eyes settling on an image sitting on his computer screen. The image was of Wonder Woman, taken a couple years back. She was standing among her fellow Justice Leaguers after they had just neutralized the alien threat, Starro. The Amazon was simply standing there, tall and proud amongst the tallest and proudest of the human race. And even from that simple image, Mark could feel her beauty and grace radiating from his computer screen. And with them came other sensations.

Attraction. Desire. Lust. Need.

The back door is wide open... And she has no idea...

His heart beating, pounding inside of his chest, Mark swallowed the saliva that had built up in his mouth. The Thief had made a decision. For the first time in a long time, Mark Messner was going to take a gamble.

"That's one hell of a big fish, Mark." He said quietly to himself. He leaned back into his chair again, smiling. "But damn if she ain't the most beautiful in the sea..."

- - -

1.1

Social gatherings were different in Man's World than they were in Themyscira. For one, there was a certain air of competition. It was markedly different from the friendly competition among Diana's amazonian sisters, instead coming with a flavor of contention. Even after several decades of operating as a superhero in Man's World, Diana Prince still felt like a stranger in a strange land.

There was rivalry among the gala attendees, but it was a silent rivalry. Who had brought a more esteemed guest? Who had made the greater archeological discovery? Or perhaps it was as petty as who wore the most expensive jewelry.

At the very least, Mrs. Greenburg, the curator of Fawcett City's Natural History Museum, seemed to be above the subtle feuding that was going on. The only thing Diana could mark against the older woman was that she seemed a bit too excited to have Diana as a guest.

"Once again, I can't overstate how much of an honor it is to host someone of your standing, Ms. Prince." Mrs. Greenburg - or "Debbie", as the woman insisted - smiled brightly, adjusting her thick-framed glasses for the umpteenth time that evening. She wore a simple pant suit, black blazer over a white cotton blouse. Her graying brown hair was done up in a neat bun and around her neck rested a humble necklace of birthstones, blue topaz to be exact.

Diana herself was wearing a lovely silk gown, silver-blue and flowing. It was tailor-made to evoke the Amazonian style, but it also had some Man's World influences such as being backless and sporting a thigh-high split that exposed one of her legs. In truth, Diana would have felt underdressed if not for the "plus-ones" some of the male attendees had invited.

"I'm flattered to be held in such high esteem." Diana smiled graciously, taking slow, short steps so Debbie could keep pace with her. "But truthfully, I don't wish to stand above anyone."

"No, of course not. From a staunch advocate for equality such as yourself, I would expect nothing else." Debbie leaned over slightly, dropping her voice to almost a whisper. "But it's not everyday a Justice Leaguer mingles among mortals down here on Earth. You know, because of your space station. I'd heard you had one from news reports, but I couldn't believe it."

Diana gave a polite smile and a half-hearted chuckle. "You're correct that the Justice League doesn't often interact with the citizens it has pledged to protect. But that's something I'm trying to change."

"Is that why you accepted my invitation?"

"Partially, yes." Diana admitted, but quickly noted the slight disappointment in Debbie's eyes. "You could say that I'm something of a 'history buff'. I'll always be in support of our local museums. Especially when they're curated by someone of the sisterhood."

Debbie halted in her tracks, her eyes lighting up as Diana's words struck deep in her mind. Her look of shock quickly turned to one of muted glee as the distinguished curator made a valiant effort to keep her composure. It still made Diana smile, seeing first hand the pride she could inspire in other women.

"Oh!" Debbie Greenburg brought a hand to her lips, stifling a happy giggle. She looked away for a moment, composing herself, before turning back to face Wonder Woman. "I'm flattered but I don't think I have the spirit to be an Amazon."

"Nonsense!" Diana smirked, ignoring the woman's self-deprecation with a dismissive wave. "In my opinion, Debbie, every woman is a wonder woman."

- - -

Mark watched his target from afar, sticking to the edges of the main hall. Wonder Woman was radiant, even more enthralling in the flesh than she was in the pictures on his computer. She wasn't wearing the iconic blue, red, and gold, but instead wore a gown of silk. Backless and with exposed leg, the dress gave more than enough for admirers to salivate over.

Getting an invite to the Gala at Fawcett City's Museum of Natural History hadn't been easy - or cheap, for that matter. Since he wasn't integrated into any historian circles, Mark's only option that wouldn't complicate his plan was to simply spend enough money to get in.

He couldn't just use his power willy-nilly. Using it on too many people at once would stretch his abilities thin... and eventually the fabric of his influence would rip to pieces. Using it on a particularly strong-willed individual wouldn't work at all. Thus, Mark's wallet had to take a hit.

Normally, the monetary loss would have bothered him. But with his vision filled with Wonder Woman dolled up in that gorgeous dress, gracefully moving through the museum main hall to mingle with this stuffed suit and that stuffed suit, Mark knew in his heart that the price he had paid so far would ultimately be worth it.

All he had to do was talk to her.

- - -

Diana had been enjoying a rare moment of respite from the gaggle of prodding journalists and over-eager historians when a young man approached her. He was white but with a swarthy complexion, perhaps denoting a southern european heritage. He had short, dark brown hair, combed and styled into a neat crew cut. He wore a friendly smile, carrying two flutes of champagne, sparkling.

"Can I offer a fine lady a drink?" He offered one of the glasses to her. Diana took a quick moment to look the man over, reading his face, his posture. He was handsome enough, roguish green eyes over a warm smile. She could tell he kept himself in shape even through his suit. And the way he carried himself all but shouted supreme confidence. It was a novelty to Diana, this boldness of mortal men. Especially from those who didn't wear capes.

"You can." Diana accepted the man's offer graciously, taking the glass and offering her other hand expectantly. To her inner delight, he accepted her hand in turn, leaning down to plant a soft, warm kiss across her knuckles.

He is bold.

"Wow," He said, moving to stand beside her. Together they faced the exhibit Diana had been observing: tools and weapons from ancient Greece. They seemed genuine, to Diana's surprise. Most museums had replicas or fakes. "I didn't think it would be that easy."

"I'm sorry?" Diana gave the man a sidelong glance.

"Coming up and talking to you." He explained. "I thought you'd be swarmed by admirers."

"I was swarmed just before you showed up." Diana chuckled softly. Then she sighed. "It's been an issue in the past. Fortunately, historian circles are much better behaved than other high society affairs. That, and a carefully vetted guest list."

The young man shifted slightly. Diana caught a curious expression on his face.

"How vetted are we talking?"

"Historians, curators, benefactors, the occasional archeologist..." Diana gave a soft shrug. "Those people get treated like rockstars. I have no idea why. And of course, there are the invited guests."

"That'd be you." The young man observed.

"I had no reason to decline. Debbie - Mrs. Greenburg's goals are noble. This is an opportunity to connect with the locals. Plus, I love history."

"It's better than any novel, my dad used to say." The young man turned his back on the Greek exhibit, now facing Diana. She caught his eyes quickly giving her a once-over, stalling perhaps a little too long on her legs and breasts. She only gave a sly grin. It wasn't as if she hadn't done the same to him. And she found herself... appreciating his nerve and daring. "You could be the best storyteller in the world and still not be able to think up half of what actually happened.

Diana took another moment to appraise the man before her. He was good-looking, indeed, even by the ridiculous standards she had gained by working with superheroes on a daily basis. Even now she could tell that the youthful fullness of his face would dissipate over the years, giving way to a refined, sculpted handsomeness. In a decade or two, the young man might even give Bruce Wayne a run for his money. Diana took a sip from her glass, taking in the small details of her admirer's face, eyes, lips.