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Hi, all. This is the first story I am posting on Curvage. It is not brand new, having been on DA for a while. I promise I will put new stories here when I have time to finish them! Secondly, apologies if this does not display properly. As I said, first time here. I am not yet sure how much text is allowed in a post or if the formatting will mess up. I will try to edit it if possible. This is the story of Karen Karenson, the beautiful, powerful and strong willed senior financial administrator at Moloch industries. It begins when she decides to recruit a very special assistant... Here we go, enjoy: The Administrator Chapter 1 of 16 Karen leaned forwards in her expensive, luxurious, black leather swivel chair to more closely regard the candidate, sitting on a much smaller chair at the far side of her intimidatingly massive oak desk. She liked it this way - to have an elevated position of superiority over the occasional minion she felt the need to take to task in her expansive and elegantly furnished office. Or, as in this case, an interview candidate for what she intended to be a very special job. As she leaned, her thick thighs and buttocks slid smoothly against the chair armrests, which although spaced apart to their maximum settings now could not fully accommodate her girth. Her large belly moved over her lap, constrained in her tightly buttoned and overstressed shirt and short skirt, until it squashed up against the edge of the desk, flowing just slightly above and below the wooden surface, only stopping when it reached the limits of her taut shirt fabric. Her breasts, slightly too large for her bra already, bounced upwards just a little as her change in posture increased their support from her belly, adding to the strain on her shirt which creaked slightly. These changing pressures elicited an almost inaudible gasp of pleasure from her thick, redly painted lips, which she covered by launching into her next question. "So, Mr. Dereckson, I see from your file that you are a little lacking in secretarial experience. In fact, your previous job was in a" and the distaste, even contempt, in Karen's next words was palpable - "gymnasium. Would you care to tell me more about your role there?". Karen's quarry was tall and well built, bald with pale skin. He was not what she would normally consider "her type" - especially with a background in the fitness industry, which she despised. But she had paid a lot of money (she could afford it - she was very well remunerated in her job, and had anyway charged it to company expenses) to some very good cyber-stalkers to have the candidate list for the post vetted. There were things in his internet history - secret things - that had made Karen put him at the top of the list despite his lack of qualification. "Well, I was a fitness instructor, for a few years, personal training, that kind of thing" - his voice was accented and quite plain, which had already convinced Karen that he was pleasingly less intelligent than her, so would be easier to control -"only I packed it in last year; didn't like what they'd started asking me to do" - this second statement was more hasty; perhaps he had seen the sneering downturn of Karen's lips as he stated his former profession. "Explain" snapped Karen. "Well, I didn't like - I was supposed to help people lose weight, and I just didn't like doing it. It wasn't making them happy, and besides, just ... watching people wither away. Not good. It's just ... curves look good on a woman, if you know what I mean". His stumbling answer seemed to appease Karen. "I see, I see. Quite understandable" she smiled indulgently. "So, you find curves look good on a woman" - Dereck looked worried by this, plainly fearful he has caused offence, but before he could offer an apology Karen continued: "Do you think my curves "look good" for example?". Karen leaned forwards on the desk, resting her elbows to support her face with her steepled fingers, long black and red lacquered nails framing her large round cheeks. Her breasts surged forwards, bulging between her plump forearms, wobbling slightly with the movement before settling into a gentle pulsing rhythm with her breathing. Her jewelled necklace of diamond and topaz rode upon the swells, glinting as it caught the lights of her office. "Yes!" Dereck blurted out, his nervousness plain. "I mean, you look great, I mean ... " Karen shushed him with one chubby ringer finger to her plump red lips. "Good, very good. I shall let you into a little secret, Dereck. It is not your relevant vocational experience I am judging you on for this post. The qualities that I am looking for in a candidate are loyalty and obedience. I want a man who will obey my commands without question. ANY commands. The pay will, I believe, be more than adequate compensation for your loyalty. Do you think you could be that man, Dereck?". As Karen had been speaking, she had been observing Derek’s response. The nervousness seemed to leave him as she talked, gradually being replaced with a growing realisation regarding what she was saying. In tacit acknowledgment, her voice dropped lower as she spoke, became slightly more husky, the lust not quite concealed. "Ms. Karenson, if you give me this job, I promise you I will do anything you say. Anything whatsoever. You won't regret it. I will be your most loyal person - would you be offended if I say servant? Or ..." he seemed to mouth the word "slave" as though afraid to say it out loud. "Hmmm..." Karen regarded him as she might a piece of food she was considering eating. "That sounds passable, but I think I will need to test your skills in greater detail before I can make a firm offer. Lunchtime is approaching ... and I find myself lacking in refreshment. Let us call this an initiative test. Go forth Dereck, and fetch me a worthy meal. If you can do this for me it will be a very large positive in your application ... hurry now, you wouldn't want me to be hungry, would you?" "Yes, mistress, at once!" Dereck stood up, heading for the door with a sudden burst of energy. "Do you have..." he started, turning from the door for a moment "Initiative Dereck. Use your initiative. You will be judged on your performance however...on your ability to ... satisfy me. Go, now!" With a nodded bow, he was gone. Karen grinned to herself, her belly and legs pulsing with a gluttonous, anticipatory pleasure. "Oh yes ... he will be mine ... my little plaything" she said to herself quietly, stroking her stomach through her tight shirt. She turned to the sophisticated control panel in her desk. When it came to her luxurious office, no expense was spared in equipping it with every possible electronic gadget to serve her. Fat fingers, surmounted by long, heavily lacquered nails that faded from red at the tips to black at the base, operated switches, first to seal the door Dereck had left through (to the corridor - she hated letting people in that way, to her inner sanctuary, without passing through her outer secretaries and her fierce guardian), and then to bring up camera footage on an attendant screen. The whole floor of the building, her personal empire within the company, had extensive camera surveillance. They were not all visible. They were not all legal. Within the finance department however, Karen considered that she was God, all powerful, all seeing, all knowing. The screen was split between monitoring the corridor for Dereck’s return, and a hidden feed above the desk of her personal assistant, Miss Strictham, who was stationed in the adjacent room, next to her door, guarding it. Her PA was a large woman, almost as fat as Karen herself, with jet black hair worn in austere bun, huge breasts, stubby fingers and a pronounced double chin. She was lazy, clumsy, and a merciless bully of the staff under her. It was this trait that Karen delighted in the most, knowing that even a mild comment from herself about the performance of one of her minions would inevitably lead to deliciously harsh treatment from Miss Strictham. Karen liked to watch her tirades through the cameras, storing the best ones (where she caused some secretaries to break down crying, flee the room, and in one memorable case do both of the above while also wetting herself). This camera, of which Miss. Strictham was not aware, had a good view of her protruding cleavage, which Karen zoomed in on. Strictham was eating a whole twelve pack of chocolate bars, one after another, consuming each one in two swallows. Just watching her turned Karen on. She waited until Strictham has finished her gluttonous feast before buzzing the intercom. "Yes, Miss Karenson?" - her voice was subservient, fawning. Such a contrast with the way she spoke with those below her in Karens complex hierarchies. "Ah, Miss Strictham! I shall be in an important meeting all afternoon and am not to be disturbed under any circumstances, do you understand!" "Yes, Miss Karenson" "I am depending on you, Miss Strictham, Guard my portal against irksome intruders - and keep my team in line. Make sure they keep working hard, and do not tolerate any dissent. You are in charge for the rest of today." "Yes Miss Karenson, you can depend on me" Karen released the switch. She could sense the pleasure in Ms. Stricthams voice as she was freed to be even more of a bully than usual today - not that she needed much encouragement. Karen considered following her on camera for a moment, to see if she got up to any real shouting and harassment, but she had other matters to attend to, and the camera records would be stored for weeks anyway. She opened a small cupboard set into the right-hand side of her desk. It was refrigerated, and contained several boxes of eclairs as well as many wine bottles. Dereck was out on a mission to feed her, but what would make today even more perfectly delicious would be a little indulgence while waiting for him to return. She took one of the eclair boxes, and poured herself a large glass of wine. More food, more drink, more pleasure ... that was what she desired. Just a little more now, and then, a little more later, and so on, never ever stopping. First though, she needed to prepare for further enjoyment. She drained the wineglass in one mighty gulp, putting it down and taking her office remote control in that hand. She loved automation - having electric motors do the work at the push of a button was so elegant, so pampering. She activated her pedestal, raising it to the level of her chair. Karen knew, of course, of the expression "Placing someone on a pedestal". She thought it sounded a deliciously decadent activity and so had one installed. Technically it was a heavy-duty slimline floor retractable display cabinet. She had needed to close down offices below her own to have it fitted, but the effect was worth it. With a dainty push of her foot she sent her top-quality wheeled chair gliding across the floor to her pedestal. Placing a plush cushion atop it from her seat, she transferred her ample posterior before pressing several more buttons on her control. The pedestal rose higher with a grinding of heavily loaded motors, lifting Karen several feet into the air, while the cabinets on the nearby wall opened up of their own accord, revealing an array of mirrors. Karen continued to munch on the eclairs from her box while gazing lovingly at her reflection and thinking of her own beloved body. She was so utterly, heartbreakingly beautiful, she thought to herself. Her breasts were deliciously large and heavy, her skin smooth and free from any blemish. Her buttocks were well rounded and soft, padded with thick layers of fat that made even the act of sitting down pleasurable as she felt them press against each other and against her broad hips. Her arms and legs were of great circumference where they joined her body, tapering pleasingly down to her chubby hands and feet. All of her magnificent fatness was very nicely plumped up and firm, avoiding any hint of sagginess, and of the unsightliness of cellulite. She invested a great amount of time and expense into maintaining herself in perfect condition with many beauty treatments, massages, waxes, oils and lotions, as well as spending a great number of hours lovingly obsessing over herself, as she was doing now. Her belly, she was certain, was her best feature of all, being large and rotund, the smooth soft flesh straining at her white shirt, discreetly pushing the seam open in between her buttons to reveal a sequence of crescents of her perfection bulging outwards slightly beyond the pure white fabric. As with all of her body she doted on it, ensuring that it remained soft, plump and perfect at all times. Any hint of stretch-marks as it grew (and it was growing - Karen could not abide abstinence or any disruption to her pleasure, so was constantly eating and drinking) were rigorously treated cosmetically. Her mind, she was perfectly aware, was amazing in proportion to her magnificent body. The youngest person ever to achieve the position of senior finance administrator at just 25, her cunning and ambition knew no limits. Using sex, blackmail, sabotage of her rivals and an utter disregard for honesty and principle, she found the corporate ladder at Moloch Industries to be most simple to slither her way up. The other senior executives behaved in the same manner, of course, but she went further than they were prepared to, and she won, over and over and over again. Now as head of the finance department she was custodian of the companies substantial reserves of wealth, and could allocate or refuse funding at her own whim, giving her much leverage over her "equals". Only the CEO was above her, and he was old and complacent, letting the department heads each run rampant with schemes and plots. It was a delicious environment for Karen, but she knew she was destined for greater things ultimately - her ambition would never stop driving her to new heights of power, luxury and excess. She finished the last thick, chocolatey eclair and let the box fall to the floor - she had people to take care of such mundanities as cleaning up her mess. Freed of its burden, her right hand moved to caress the bulging tops of her breasts. "Mmmm - mmmm --oh yes. I am SO beautiful! SO delicious! SO ... mmm ... perfect! I love ... me ... SO much!" - as she preened in front of the mirror, her fat hand slid down the large curve of her belly as it bulked out her taut shirt. It crossed her belt and traced the shape of her plump leg down her short skirt. When her hand reached her stockinged knee, it reversed its path but more slowly, travelling up her broad upper leg, this time slipping beneath her skirt, riding up past her stocking tops, following the smooth soft curve of her upper, inner thigh. Karen felt her slick hard nails and many rings sliding over her sensitive skin, as well as the warm softness of her fingers. She shifted position on her pedestal, opening her legs wider to allow her chubby hand to slide further into her centre, finding her warm, moist opening covered by the thin, tightly stretched fabric of her skimpy undergarments. Her fingers rubbed gently back and forth, massaging the perfectly waxed, fat-swollen orifice beneath. As growing waves of pleasure spread out from the intimate contact, she crooned softly to herself. "Oh yes ... he will be mine ... he will worship me ... he will feed me ... I will own him ... I will control him ... I will make him crawl ... mmmm yes ... mmmm ... soon ... soon ..." She began to doubly drool in anticipation - a thin trickle of saliva from the corner of her fat, lipstick glossed lips, and another thicker, more pungent fluid from between her legs, saturating her underwear and coating her chubby fingers. With a giggle that set her breasts to wobbling within their tight bra, she realised that there was yet more pleasure that she could add to her glut. With her left hand she operated another button on her remote control, opening a further hatch next to the central mirror in the nearby wall-mounted unit. A shelf extended towards her, holding a large box of liqueur chocolates in a special tray. Placing the remote on the shelf, she used her left hand to feed herself the unusually large confectionaries, crunching through chocolate and the sugar-glass liner that you could only get on the most expensive liqueurs these days, as her right hand continued to stroke her most intimate centre. All the while she continued to moan self-affirmation to herself, revelling in the sweet sound of her own voice, the incestuous words of her own self-love. It seemed like only minutes until all of the liqueurs were consumed. Karen's stomach felt deliciously full of chocolate, cream and alcohol now, her shirt and belt just subtly tighter around her girth, her breasts pushed up just a little more by the pressure of her belly below. No longer tasked with feeding her, her left hand began to explore every inch of her enhanced anatomy. "Oh me! Oh perrrrfect me! I am ... so, so good!" she simpered to herself, close to a gentle climax. Her intercom chimed. "Excuse me, Miss Karenson" - it was Strictham. Karen has purchased a system of directional microphones and speakers in her office, allowing communication from wherever she happened to be in the room, to maximise her convenience. "What! How dare you! I said I was not to be disturbed! I thought I could trust you of all people, Miss Strictham, to obey my will! This had better be ... huff ... exceptionally important!" - Karen was beginning to exhaust her fat, thoroughly unfit body from the efforts of balancing her large form on her pedestal, and the growing intensity of her masturbation. Her orgasm faded and died at the sudden disruption, making her even more irritated. "My apologies, Miss Karenson, but security claim that they have a man called Dereck Dereckson at the front desk, and he insists that he urgently needs to see you." Karen yelped involuntarily as a sudden unexpected orgasmic pulse throbbed through her body, in defiance of the ostensible death of her arousal. He was back! She was going to have so much fun! "I'm sorry, what was that?" - Strictham. " ... Uff ... uff ... ah ... wait ... wait precisely one minute, my dear Miss Strictham, and then have him sent up to my office. He can use my outer door - I shall open it for him" "Yes, Miss Karenson" - Strictham signed off. Karen grabbed her remote controller and hastily lowered herself down, closing the mirrored cabinet as she went. With a groan of effort she transferred her weight back to her luxurious leather chair and pushed herself back to her desk. She hated having to move herself like this, like a peasant having to physically exert herself to reposition her beautiful body. She must look into getting a technological solution to make her life easier. Nonetheless, when she reached her desk she felt empowered anew. Behind its rich, thick solid wood, with its concealed controls and cabinets full of food and drink, she wielded her greatest powers. Flicking through her monitors, she could see Dereck waiting at the reception desk. He was carrying many bulging bags. It would take him at least another minute to get up to her office, high in the corporate building. There was a little time still before he arrived, so she grabbed another bottle of wine from her desk, guzzling it all without the use of a glass as she watched Dereck eventually be waved on by security and make his way up to her lair. She could, of course, see him on cameras as he approached the outer door to her office (the one which led off the main corridor, and the one that she normally kept locked, preferring to channel visitors through her under-secretaries and Miss Strictham before allowing them into her august presence). Nonetheless she made him knock and wait before she unlocked the door with the push of a button. Best to make him know his place after all. Dereck approached her desk and bowed low before placing a large number of bags on its clean polished surface. "Mistress, I have brought you a lunchtime snack. I hope it doesn't disappoint" - Dereck stated as he stood before her desk, which was now heaped with various bags and boxes. "I shall be the judge of that, Dereck" she said smoothly, concealing the desperate lusts that were rising up within her, although her musk was strong, and beginning to overpower the pungent perfumes she habitually wore. With another flick of her fingers the door was locked electronically behind Dereck, sealing him in her office with her. "Now, show me what you have brought". Wordlessly Dereck opened the various bags and boxes that he had placed on her desk. My, but she could see that he had been both busy and organised. Three extra-large pizza boxes revealed pizzas covered with many layers of toppings, meats, chilli peppers, onions, extra cheese and cheese-stuffed crusts. There were also three separate curry boxes, with naan breads and poppadoms (no rice, she was pleased to note - that was peasant food), a huge assortment box of Chinese food, a large paper bag full of sausage rolls and various meaty pastries, no less than three whole large cakes for desert, and a half dozen bottles of wine, port and strong liquors. Karen felt waves of pleasure pulse through her body just from looking at the excessive tribute laid out before her. Surely she was worshipped like no other before her. "Mmmm ... adequate, I suppose, perhaps" she teased. "I shall give you the opportunity to make up for the shortfall in quality and quantity with the presentation. Feed me, Dereck. Feed me now, in accordance with my commands. Let us start with the pizzas. Bring them to me.". Karen reclined in her chair, taking her ease, as Dereck brought the first pizza box and selected a slice of massively meat-laden cheesy pizza, offering it up gently to her mouth. Karen waited until the edges of the triangular slice made contact with the plush corners of her lips before biting off, chewing and swallowing the end of the slice. She ruminated upon the mouthful for a few moments, enjoying the tase of many greasy meats seasoned with spices, tomatoes and rich cheese, before coming to the conclusion: "More". Dereck enthusiastically presented more of the pizza slice for Karen to bite off. In three gulps she had consumed it entirely, cheese-stuffed crust and all. She gave a small belch of satisfaction before demanding the next slice. Dereck complied without hesitation. The influx of heavy, cholesterol-laden food seemed to spark Karen's appetite to new heights of decadence, and her rate of consumption increased with each delicious slice. More and more pizza was shoved down Karen’s eager gullet as her hands, free of any need to participate in the gluttonous orgy since Dereck was happily complying with every instruction, moved around her body caressing her breasts, thighs, buttocks and belly as they groaned, creaked and expanded under the weight of her feast. After the second pizza was completely consumed, Karen demanded a pause for lubrication as her swollen stomach was beginning to feel dry. Dereck presented a large glass of fine port, which Karen drained completely in one massive gulp, before ** calling for the third pizza. It was at this time that the first and lowest button burst from Karen's shirt with a sharp ping. Her swelling belly flowed out from the breach, forming a thicker and higher dome of fat which Karen massaged intently with her hands. "Mmm.. yes, I am getting ... bigger. My beautiful body ... feels so good. Dereck, mmmph - chomp - chew ..." Karen guzzled down another pizza slice. Dereck had picked up the knack now of moving the slice further into her mouth as she chewed, so she could consume it in a single go. "Dereck, it is not enough to simply feed me .. urrrrp! ... now. Tell me .. tell me how beautiful I am" "Yes, Ka - er - Miss Karenson. Well..." Dereck lacked the vocabulary of Karen, and his clumsy tongue struggled to find the right words. "Well, you're really, really beautiful. Like awesomely amazing" - another slice was fed into Karens increasingly greasy mouth to much chewing and several small belches. "Your breasts are, like, absolutely massive, and your arse is amazing, totally off the scale of amazingness. And you're really awesomely sexy, and..." "Enough, Dereck! ... arrrp! ...I will teach you fair speech to praise and worship me in the future. For now let us use your body, rather than your tongue. More Pizza, Dereck, I must .. brrp! ... engorge myself. I must become even more beautiful". "Yes, Miss Karenson!" - Dereck redoubled his efforts, feeding the heavily meat-laden slices one after another as Karen gobbled them down with increasing speed. Soon, the final pizza was consumed, all aside from the very last section of crust which Karen grabbed, gesturing with it like a tiny baton. Her stomach felt very bloated and overstuffed now, almost but not quite painful with its internal pressure. The sheer mass of her belly pushed down on her crotch and thighs; the feeling of her beloved flesh pressing in on itself was intoxicatingly arousing to her. She needed more, but there were many pleasures competing for her attention this afternoon. "More porter!" she decreed. Her glass was refilled and handed to her. She reclined her chair to its furthest setting, halfway between sitting and lying down, and again drained her large goblet, although this time it took noticeably longer to get the thick red fluid down into her throat, and the process was further slowed by several loud belches mid-swallow. Her eyes bulged, and ** swam in and out of focus for a few seconds. "Mmmm .. delishious ... urrrp ... Now, Mr. Dereckshon, you have proven yourshelf passably apt in the firsht trial. The next shtage is a physhical examination. Take ... no, wait. More porter, then ... take off your shirt, shlowly". This next refill fully drained the bottle, and Karen sipped the bulbous glass more slowly now, thoughtfully rubbing the end of her pizza crust baton over her breasts, leaving a trail of grease and sauces, as she watched Dereck strip. The buttons came off his pale yellow shirt one at a time, from the top to the bottom, revealing a hairless, heavily muscled chest with prominent pectorals and firm, well defined abdominal musculature. His arms also spoke of significant physical strength, muscles moving over muscles as he changed pose. There was something of a proud grin on his face as he saw the drunken desire in Karen's expression. "Closher - hic!" she beckoned with a fat greasy finger, temporarily parking the pizza crust in between her huge breasts. As Dereck strode over, she rubbed her hand over his powerful muscles, purring with delight, her fingers trembling at their hardness and size. "Not bad! They could be bigger, but a good shtart. I need my pershonal shervant to be very big and shtrong to satishfy by physhical needs. Ah! .. oh! .. urrp! Ah... now, let us shee what ish down below. Slowly, deliberately, Dereck undid his belt and unzipped his flies, gently lowering his trousers, revealing dark grey underpants sporting a very obvious, very large erection beneath the fabric. Further down came the trousers, showing thick muscular legs, again all perfectly hairless. Eventually Dereck kicked away his shoes and socks to stand next to her clad only in his underwear. Karen gave a yelp of pampered, girlish delight. Her fat fingers came forth again to feel the swell of the muscles of his thigh, and then to stroke up and down the tumescence in his pants, making sure to assess the large swollen globes of his testicles nestled beneath. She sipped deeply at her port. "Ah! Ooh, yes! Adequate, I shuppose. We can alwaysh find ways of making you ... ohhh .. bigger in the futshure. But how shtrong is your obedienshe to my ... urp ... will? Let ush test how complete my control ish! Dereck, get down on all foursh on the floor below me!" Dereck did not hesitate to go down on his hands and knees on the floor below her chair, looking up expectantly at her. With a series of moans, gasps, belches and farts Karen squirmed her massive body sideways in her chair so that she could look down upon him. "Good ... now, bark like a dog". "Woof! Woof! Bark!" - Dereck complied. Karen giggled with glee at the power she held over him, the ease with which she could bend him to her will. As her great belly, swollen breasts and plump buttocks quivered and jiggled with her mirth, a second button popped on her shirt, ending her laughter in a yip of sensation as her belly once again surged forth to push against the armrest of her chair. "Yes, yes! Oh!" trembling with pleasure at Dereck’s compliance, Karen slowly pulled out the pizza crust from between the twin spheres of her bosom. She tossed it down to the floor where it landed in front of Dereck. "Eh .. eh ... eat it like a dog!" Shifting her glass to her other hand, Karen's fat fingers pleasured herself once more, with greater speed and enthusiasm, as she watched Dereck pick up and consume the pizza crust from the floor using only his mouth. "Yes, oh yes! My animal, my pet, my powerful mushcular beast, all mine!" she murmured to herself as pleasure pulsed through her swollen form. All too soon, Dereck’s bestial meal was completed, and Karen, panting and sweating from the effort of her masturbation, gave one final deep moan and was still. " uff ... huff ... wheeze ... Mr. .. uhhh ... Mr. Dereckson. Your performanshe has been ... huff ...huff ... adequate during thish .. whuff ... stage. However, I need to know that you ... huff ... that you can truly shatisfy my pershonal requirements. I require re-invigourashun Dereck. Rotate my shoft delicate body." - Karen held up her hands for Dereck, who arose and with surprising gentleness leaned over Karen and part-lifted, part-hugged her until her body was once more reclining on her well padded back. "Good ... huff .verry good. Now ... more food! More drink! I musht have more power Dereck! Fill me with fine thingsh, make me ... huff ... better!" "Yes, Miss Karenson" Dereck replied, but with a lusty tone to his voice suggesting that he would enjoy complying with this order. The port was now depleted, so he moved on to a strong creamy liqueur, in a clean glass to avoid curdling. While Karen began to sip and slurp at this, he prepared the Indian takeaway feast. Large strips of chicken, beef and lamb in tubs of various hot, spicy sauces were arranged, along with naan breads and poppadoms. Karen was not inclined to make any effort herself now that she had a willing slave, and at her gesture Dereck picked out chunks of meat and lifted them to her lustfully waiting mouth with his fingers. The process was far from efficient, and drips of rich curry sauces fell on her face, breasts and shirt as he worked and Karen gorged. Her belly was already stuffed full from the Pizza, and now her increasing gluttony was putting more and more pressure on it. A third button popped off her shirt - now the remaining few at the top were creaking, the fabric beginning to tear. The pressure on her immense breasts was forcing them further up now. Karen could feel her erect nipples moving against the inner surface of her bra as they rode higher, ever closer to the top of their confinement. Karen made it clear with her gestures as she pigged out, that she had no longer any interest in the naan breads or poppadoms. She wanted only the finest of foods now that her belly was stuffed to the limit. The meat, not the bread. The filling not the crust. Each mouthful of delicious food was now a struggle to swallow down against the pressures within, but Karen found it oh so satisfying to do so. While one hand poured finest cream liqueur down her throat from her large glass, to lubricate it, her other hand stroked and caressed her belly, feeling for the slight increase in size with each swallow, giggling with delight when she sensed it. As she indulged herself to an ever greater degree, Karen's sexual appetites began to recover, once again feeling the stimulation of the weight and pressure of her huge belly on her vagina and clitoris. She also became aware of a slight discomfort growing around her waist. She could not see over the huge and growing dome of her girth, but she could feel the bite of her skirt, and the thin black leather belt she wore around it. They had long ago reached their limit and now were increasingly digging into her lower belly, forcing her growing fat to bulge around the barrier. "Mmmpph! Dreckk! I am ... dishcontent! My belt! Looshen my belt! ... uuurp!" "Yes, Miss Karenson". Dereck risked one light kiss of her huge swollen belly as he felt for the clasp of her belt, almost buried beneath the overflowing pink flesh of her abdomen. It turned out that the belt had already been on its widest setting. As soon as Dereck de-coupled it, it flew apart with a crack of leather, drawing an involuntary gasp from Karen as the sudden release caused waves of pulsing fat to ripple back and forth across her stomach. Her tight black skirt had split instantaneously when the belt was removed, having no hope of holding back Karen's compressed, straining layers of blubber on its own. "Oh ... ohhh ...oooooh!" Karen moaned at the extreme sensations as her wobbling gut settled down. It seemed, if possible, even larger now, but the release of pressure has eased her engorged stomach slightly. "Look ... look what you have done, you clumshy oaf!" Karen scolded, the torn ruin of her skirt draped around her thighs. "I shall punish you for thish, Dereck ... urrp ...but first ... I want ... uff ... hufff ..oh yesss ...I want more. More food Dereck. I am shtill not shatishfied. I want more ... alwaysh more ... never shtop" - her head wobbled **, and her hands seemed a little less coordinated as they gloatingly rubbed her fat body. All of the meats in the Indian selection had been eaten now, and so Dereck quickly cleared them away and produced the Chinese. He knew Karen would want only the richest, fattiest foods he had brought at this point (in fact, he had not expected her to eat all of the different options, and was in awe of her incredible appetites. He had always lusted after fat, dominant women, but he never felt he would have the chance to get so close to such a supreme example of one. This had all happened so fast, he was emotionally spinning, but determined not to lose this chance. Being consumed by lust helped, of course). He started with a container of deep-fried chicken in thick, lemony sauce. Karen gleefully stuffed her mouth absolutely full of the greasy food before - with some difficulty - forcing it down in a series of huge gulping swallows. Her enormous gut groaned and grumbled with the strain as it expanded further and Karen giggled with delight. Dereck moved on to other containers - prawn wontons, sesame prawn toast (deeply fried), crispy fried beef, duck with hoisin sauce. This last almost seemed to choke Karen, refusing to go down her throat as she grunted and squirmed, eventually pushing it down with her fingers while swallowing over and over again to force it in. As it eventually inched it's way down, Karen gave an overstuffed whimper. "E - enough! Dereck, my beautiful stomach, it ish ... urp ... oohhh! Full!" "Yes, Miss Karenson" Dereck responded. "If I can say so, your body is looking really, really great. I've never seen anyone eat that much in one go! Can I kiss your gorgeous belly?" "You may ... urp - sqlcch - firsht remove my dresh." - Dereck had little difficulty removing the torn, damaged dress from Karen's thighs - due to a combination of tearing and unzipping there was only a scrap of material holding it together, which he quickly ripped through. Dereck kissed her first about the navel, at the peak of the huge expansive curve of her flesh. Her hands eagerly grasped the bald dome of his head and guided him down lower with subsequent kisses. Karen moaned with anticipation as his mouth worked its way slowly down her curve, towards the line of her black skimpy underwear. Then she spied the three large cakes still on her desk. "Squeeee!" - Karens eyes bulged. Her large fat tongue lolled out from between her plump red lips to squirm and lick around her greasy mouth. "Musst have ... mmm ... errp! C .. Cake!" "Miss Karenson - Mistress - are you sure? You have ... " "Yess! More! I ... hic! ... I command it! Obey me, shlave! Obey my ... pfft ... will! I control you! I .. oh! Ohhhh!" - Karen panted and gasped for some moments, her hugely overstuffed body trembling with the amount of food she had consumed, discomfort veering to actual pain as skin, fat and stomach walls were stretched beyond their natural capacity. "Lube ... lubricash ... drink! Now!" - Karen cried, fat hand waving unsteadily towards the half full bottle of cream liqueur nearby on the edge of her desk, plump greasy fingers opening and clenching as though she expected to be able to grab it by sheer force of pampered, malevolent will. "Yes, mistress" - Dereck passed the bottle, Karen's ostensible urgency precluding any opportunity to pour it into a glass. Her fat hands were shaking as she grabbed it two-handed and forced the neck between her lips. Dereck could hear her moan as she tried to chug the strong creamy alcohol. The level in the bottle was only falling slowly and intermittently, with some of the sticky fluid splashing from her fat lips to trickle down her chin. Acting on instinct, he used a little of the spillage to coat his fingers, and began to gently massage Karen's enormous swollen belly. Her moans turned to surprised squeals, but she did not let go of the bottle. The immense fat and pudge of her girth emitted more load groans and gurgles as a result of his ministrations, but it appeared to be having some effect - bubbles rose in Karen's bottle and the fluid level dropped more rapidly as it eased down her throat, finding new space in the vastness of her stomach. Eventually the bottle was drained, and Dereck moved quickly to catch it as Karens girthsome arms flopped down and her hands released it. "Mmmph ... Nnnnggg ... Cuh ...ckkkh ... Cake!" she moaned, her arms rallying and reaching out towards the delicious icing and marzipan covered luxury cakes on her desk. Dereck smoothly went over to them and cut very large slices of each one. One cake was dome-shaped and made of cream and confectioners’ custard, coated with green marzipan. Another was vermillion icing over red velvet cake stuffed with layers of cherry jam. The third was lower in height, but almost entirely made of solid chocolate, dark, dense and heavy. Obeying Karen's wobbly gestures to the best of his ability, Dereck placed all three slices atop her vast, heaving cleavage. Karen smiled and made cooing noises, hands caressing both her breasts and the cakes. "Yes, oh yesh. I am going to make you mine, oh yes! Dereck, mashage my beautiful enourmoushness - no, wait! My legsh Dereck. On the desk. Gently --- very gently. One at a time, with an effort that taxed his strong physique, Dereck raised each of Karen's legs to rest her feet atop her large desk, using surplus cushions (of which there were many in the office) to pad her delicate heels on the hard wood. Her position meant that they ended up being splayed out at quite a wide angle, making the arms of her great chair creak with the strain, while the change to her posture caused seismic shifts in the arrangement of her vast bulges of fat, causing belching, farting, and several moans and yelps of pleasure from Karen. As he completed the work, the change in pressures caused her last two shirt buttons to tear open completely, making her huge breasts swell and surge even more, now only barely constrained by the very tips of Karen's erect nipples just below the edges of the cups of her bra. Fortunately, her large arms cradled and held her cakes in position in front of her mouth even as the terrain beneath them shifted from fabric to flesh. Dereck stood between Karen's akimbo legs, working gently to massage her vast and swollen belly, judging his performance by her moans and the gurgles from within. There was by now enough grease from her gluttony to lubricate the sensuous passage of his hands without need for any specialist oils. As soon as Karen sensed the contents of her stomach begin to settle even a little bit, she started the first cake, the green one. Delicious creams and marzipan filled her mouth in an explosion of sweet flavours, causing her to emit pleased mooing noises. The soft dessert slid smoothly down her throat, accompanied by a belch of pleasure. Dereck could feel her belly expand slightly more at the creamy loading, a sensation that made him incredibly hard. "Kish me, Dereck --- my beautiful belly, my gorgeoush girth, kiss ... mmmph!" - as Dereck complied, adding sensuous kisses to his massaging of her prodigious gut, Karen's left hand seemed to shove the red cake at her mouth before she had even finished speaking, complying with some inner lusts stronger than her conscious mind. This cake was a little dryer than the previous one, but still delicious and velvety as Karen took some time to chew and swallow it, forcing down each marvellously calorific bite. Meanwhile, Dereck gradually worked his kisses down the curve of her belly, going as low as he dared, kissing around the line of her over-stretched underwear and the insides of her thighs. Her musk was overpowering down there, and Dereck felt his erection become yet harder. "Oohhh yesh! I mush -- I ... I ... eeeek!" - Karen's huge stomach groaned and strained, trembling at the load. Both her hands now held the final, very rich and chocolatey slice of cake. Her selfish desires were those of a spoiled child who refused to stop in their indulgence despite any warnings. She would eat it. Nothing would stop her. She must have it. She was momentarily distracted in her gluttony by the growing ripples of pleasure spreading out from Dereck's kisses, closer and closer to her intimate regions. He was her willing slave now. She could do anything she liked with him. It would further perfect her pleasure if he ... yes ..."Dereck, my thong - bite through it. Chew it - I ... ooohhh! I command you! Be ... be gentle tho - if you harm even the tiniesht part of my divine body you will ... you will ... urrp! You will be shacked!" "Yes, my Mistress" - the pleasure in this order was evident in Dereck’s voice. Kneeling down between her legs, he maintained the gentle massage of her huge belly with his hands, not missing a beat as he ran his tongue up and down the seam between her thighs and her crotch. Everything there was already slick with Karen's fluids, which aided him as his strong, agile tongue wormed its way beneath the centre of her lacy, skimpy knickers. It pulled the fabric away from her bulging fat flesh, just far enough for him to get a grip with his teeth. Karen gasped and moaned at the complex dance of sensations between her legs, and began to advance the large cake slice further into her mouth slowly as Dereck worked. The panty material proved deceptively tough for its seeming flimsiness, but Dereck chewed with increasing passion, grinding his lower front teeth left and right against his upper set to create a scissoring, cutting motion which caused the thread-work in the band of fabric to fail one strand at a time. Eventually, with a snap, the whole structure came apart. Layers of fat around her labia rearranged themselves as the constraining pressures were removed, eliciting another sharp yip of pleasure from Karen, which was muffled somewhat by the chocolate cake pushed deeply into her mouth. "Ikkk ee ... I ommand u oo ikk ee" - Karen's voice, high pitched with excitement, quivered as the cake slid deeper and she began to chew. Dereck did not need to precisely understand her words to know her desires however. Pressing his face firmly in between her legs, he set about pleasuring her as she ate, lips and tongue stroking her labia, caressing her clitoris, sliding deep within her slick centre. He felt as much as heard her rising moans of pleasure, the sound travelling through her swollen, stuffed flesh to resonate in ears surrounded by the softness of her broad thighs. Karen forced the thick chocolate cake down her throat with a series of greedy peristaltic contractions that exactly matched those from within her vagina as her throbbing arousal grew - a perfect foodgasm. As she forced the last of the thick chocolate cake into herself, the incredible pressure of her swollen belly not only forced her breasts from her bra, but caused the bra itself to snap apart as the front fastenings finally gave up under the strain. With a whelp of pleasure and surprise, she moved her hands to grab her greasy breasts, holding the erect nipples and firm aureoli within the pudge of her digits. The sensations only served to arouse her further, and she realised that instead of reaching a climax her orgasms were greedily accelerating. She wanted ... no, needed ... even more. "Dereck! Take me! Now! I musht haff more!" she moaned. Dereck did not hesitate. With a flick of his hands and his hips, his underpants were gone. He rose before her, completely naked, his huge swollen penis straining towards her. He leaned in. Karen's fatty bulk occupied all of her large leather chair and then some, but reaching around her hips, Dereck could feel a region just above the curves of her sumptuous buttocks and below her fat back, where the pressure of flesh was lower. He reached around into this space with his hands, grabbing her plump behind and pushing himself into her. His strong muscular body pressed deep into her layers of fat, his huge cock sliding up to the hilt into her slick vagina. Karen's moans of pleasure increased in volume as he pushed deep into her over and over again, the grip of his hands on her rear keeping her in place as they both came to an exquisite final orgasm, his hot fluids filling her entirely as they both moaned and gasped at the waves of pleasure. After what seemed like an eternity floating within each other, consumed by hot ecstasy, Dereck finally staggered back, spent, and they both subsided into an exhausted blissful sleep. Sometime later Karen came around. She felt warm, fuzzy, tired, very full and satisfied. Dereck was already awake, dressed, and busy cleaning up the detritus of their excesses. Although the room had been largely tidied, Karen herself was no longer the same as she had been at the start of the interview. Her torn skirt was on the floor, her pants ripped at the crotch, her chest exposed by her burst shirt and bra. Her surviving clothes were stained by curry, Chinese food, chocolate and grease, and her body was puffed up, bloated and swollen to an obscene degree by her indulgences. "Dereck, come to me" she commanded in a soft voice. "Yes, mistress, I obey" he responded, kneeling close to her reclined head. "Dereck, your interview has gone rather well today. I feel that you have earned a place in Moloch Industries as my Special Assistant. However, I can see the job description ... urppp! ... expanding slightly. I require you to also act as my pershonal cheuffuer and live-in valet. Convey me home Dereck. I need to ... aaahhh! ... rest now, and recover my strength. I will achieve great things, Dereck, and my loyal followers will be rewarded for their efforts. You must obey me though. Obey my every whim, my every deshire. Convey me home, Dereck. I command it. I order it. Do so now." - as Karen spoke, she moved Dereck’s unresisting head closer to her belly, where he repeatedly kissed her soft swollen flesh. Dereck needed but a moment to consider his mistresses proposal. He had lived alone for some time now, and had never in his life known a greater pleasure than he had experienced from obeying her desires this day. He was ready to be fully consumed by her, to become her minion, her slave. He would do this. He immediately sought around for ways in which he could obey her command, filled with that strength known only to fanatic followers of any cause. Her clothes were a mess, but Karen kept a luxurious, thick coat of genuine animal fur close to the door. That would cover up for the trip. Hugely bloated from her feasting, Dereck would not expect Karen to wish to rise from her chair, but he was able to get the coat over her enormous, beautiful body, gently working it down between her back and the chair. A few smaller slices of cake and some whiskey as a pick-me-up restored some of her energy, and Dereck was able to make use of her network of cameras to plot a moment when the corridor outside the office was empty. Then, locking up after they had both left, he wheeled her groaning and gurgling bulk to the executive elevator and they rode it to the parking garage in the basement. "Oooh ... ohhh... " moaned Karen. "Fear not, my loyal shervant ... ooooh ... I will arishe stronger shan ever, bigger, better, more beautifu .. errp! .. more beautiful. Necsht time I will eat the shtakes and the pashtries and the Naans, and ALL of the cakesh" - Karen's stomach rumbled loudly, as if already regaining appetite just from the thought of repeating the banquet with even greater gluttony. At Karen's direction, Dereck wheeled her over the concrete (prompting further groans and gasps - her chair's wheels were not built for such roughness and it shook and juddered as they went) to her large SUV in the nearby executive parking area. Giving him the keys, she permitted Dereck to raise her from the seat as gently as he could manage, her fat body and the chair both creaking greatly has her expanded flesh squeezed and strained, blubberous hips moving up only with difficulty from between the widely spaced armrests. Eventually victory was achieved however. Karen rose up to stand unsteadily and with Dereck’s help pivot her huge girth to place her buttocks down again in her own passenger seat, where she slumped, panting from the effort. "Home, Dereck!" she commanded, and Dereck obediently took charge of the vehicle, driving her back to her large, luxurious house - practically a mansion - some miles away in a very exclusive area of town. There he helped her to stagger to bed, while he worked to retrieve his possessions from his own humble apartment and move in as her full time servant.

The Final Mission by Jack Knowles Colonel Steve Trevor was America's mostly intensively trained and finely honed operative. He'd started his career fresh out of college as a fighter pilot, eventually becoming the premier test pilot for cutting edge jets. But he used his status to pull out of the program and transfer to start out at the bottom in Special Forces, beginning with boot camp, a training regime so rigorous that more than half the twenty year olds washed out. At thirty, then Capt. Trevor thrived on the hardship, receiving the highest commendations in his company. It was in Special Forces that he rose to the rank of Colonel. At the age of thirty-six, anxious to see more action than a combat position afforded since the relative peace after the fall of the Soviet Union, he transferred to intelligence. His unique skills soon secured him the reputation as America's top international intelligence agent. Then came the mission down to South America to interdict drug trafficking, when somebody sabotaged his personal jet. His plane crashed on an island that his craft's hopelessly compromised navigational system couldn't even identify. It was then that he'd been rescued by the mysterious Wonder Woman. She'd followed him back to America and had joined him in almost all of his missions. Often dropping in at the last minute of carefully crafted operations to "save the day." There was no doubt that sometimes she'd been invaluable. Although it seemed to him that there were at least as many times where her assistance was unnecessary, that he had the situation well in hand. What Col. Trevor was certain of was that Wonder Woman, along with destroying many of America's enemies, had no less destroyed his career. He'd become the joke of the intelligence community. America's greatest operative reduced to the role of damsel in distress. Wonder Woman has ravaged his personal life as well. He felt sure that she was attracted to him, but in all their years together they'd never progressed beyond sly innuendo and sexual tension. She'd might have received some kind of Amazon training that helped her maintain her chastity. But he was a red-blooded American male and it was driving him to distraction. With his dashing looks and muscled physique, he had no shortage of encounters with the fairer sex. But when it came to having a long term relationship, who could compete with Wonder Woman? Women would leave rather than have her as a third wheel in their relationship. She was a true wonder. From her lustrous jet black curly mane to her piercing blue eyes and electric smile, she had a face that was literally hauntingly beautiful. Steve found that he couldn't hardly look at another woman without her countenance coming to mind. And her body was even more extraordinary. She defined the physical perfection of a lean, mean fighting machine with the muscularity of a cat rather than the bulkiness of a body builder. She had the long, graceful legs of a dancer that flared into full womanly hips. Her derriere was tight, round and very, very firm. The star-spangled panty girdle and belt of power barely concealed abs that rippled with muscle. Finally, cupped in her shining, gold falcon breastplate and wrapped in her bright red strapless top were those perfect, gravity-defying breasts. Really, those gorgeous, plump orbs were the only spot on her body where she had an ounce of fat. Next to Wonder Woman, other women seemed dull and ordinary. Deep down, Steve realized that that amazing body and the supernatural powers it possessed was also a stumbling block to their relationship. He was, of course, a little scared of what she might do to him in a physical encounter, even a romantic one. But he was about as physically perfect a specimen as it was possible for a normal human male to be. He was sure he could handle the situation. Actually, it was more a matter of preference. He wanted a woman with the beautiful face Wonder Woman possessed but with a softer, more lush body, preferably even a little plump. He thought of his last long-term relationship, the one he'd had with his previous assistant, Etta Candy. She had a cute face, blonde and blue-eyed. But what he really loved was her body. She'd taken after her name and had a compulsive sweet tooth. It gave her a gorgeous, deliciously chubby physique. Her breasts where full and soft like pillows in sensuous satin sheets. She had a cute ** belly that bulged over the band of her panties. And he loved her beautiful, round bottom and the plump thighs she would envelope him in. She worked out just enough to maintain the minimum fitness requirements of the military. But the best thing of all was how much she loved sex, her body and all the erotic possibilities of her full-bodied physique. When Steve made love with her, he was the physical master tending to her luscious body. Every square inch of her flesh seemed to be an erogenous zone. It seemed that the only thing Etta found sweeter than Candy to take into her mouth was Steve's hard cock. But then along came Wonder Woman. She became such a large part of Steve's life that Etta couldn't help but feel jealous. She started to diet and exercise in a vain attempt to compete with Wonder Woman. It only succeeded in making her shrill and miserable. As she lost her generous curves, Steve found her less attractive. She became more self-conscious and less enthusiastic in her love-making. Eventually, she gave up. She quit her assignment and left Steve's life entirely. That was more or less the pattern of all his relationships since Wonder Woman entered his life. There wasn't a woman secure enough to tolerate Wonder Woman's place in Steve's life. This was especially true if they had the fuller figure Steve preferred instead of the popular notion of physical perfection that Wonder Woman had come to define. So Steve was left with only two women in his life, Wonder Woman and his new assistant, Diana Prince. And they seemed to share all the same traits, their total devotion to Col. Trevor, their svelte physiques and their complete disinterest in sex. So, as Col. Trevor approached his twentieth year of military service, his career and personal life in shambles, he was seriously considering retirement. What the hell, he thought, I'll take my twenty year pension and start a new career. Maybe take a little time off, lie around on a tropical island and get fat. But above all, Steve Trevor was a man of action. It was then that he conceived his plan. He'd always met every challenge head-on and in complete command. It was time for him to take charge of this situation. And when he was through, it was very likely that it would be Wonder Woman who would consider retirement. The most daring part of his plan was the very first step, to secretly lift Wonder Woman's magic golden lasso. Getting his hands on it would be no problem. She would often use it to subdue a suspect. Then she would hand it off to Steve and go off in pursuit of other villians. Steve was often found at the scene of a crime with several thugs roped on the end of the lasso, a predicament no more dangerous than having a poodle at the end of a leash. He'd seen her use the magic effects of the lasso to compel them to obey any command or answer any question. He'd even seen her use it to place something like a post hypnotic suggestion, including forgetting that the lasso had been used. Still, if he possessed the lasso, he was unsure that he would be able to use it on Wonder Woman. He'd have one shot or he'd have a lot of hard questions to answer. Then, if he was successful in binding her in her own lasso, he was unsure if it would have the same effect on Wonder Woman. Perhaps she was resistant to its post-hypnotic effects or they would wear off. But he was so fed up, he had to take the risk. It was his career or hers. He secured an exact duplicate of her golden lasso that Wonder Woman herself had supplied to the National Museum for an exhibit they'd run about her. The next time he was left alone to tend to a criminal with the magic lasso, he cold-cocked the guy and secured him with the fake lasso, concealing the real lasso inside his jacket. When Wonder Woman returned, he explained that he thought he saw signs of others from the drug trafficking ring. He knocked out the guy, so he could go over and investigate. As Wonder Woman turned her back to Col. Trevor and bent over the drug dealer to revive and question him, Col. Trevor pulled out the magic lasso and looped it around her shoulders. Wonder Woman shot up with a start. "What are you doing, Steve?" she cried. "Don't resist!" Steve commanded. Instantly, Wonder Woman's tensed body went slack and her hands fell limply from the rope. "I'm not sure what effect this will have. But one thing's for sure. There are going to be some changes around here." Wonder Woman sat listening passively. It could be a trick, but it seemed that the lasso had the same results with Wonder Woman that it had on ordinary people. "Here's what's going to happen," Col. Trevor continued, "First of all, I think I'm going to keep this lasso. You are to forget that I have it. You will think that the lasso around this scum lying on the ground is the real lasso. To make sure that you don't discover the difference, I command you will be compelled not to even try to use the magic properties of your lasso, no matter what. "Now, down to the heart of the matter. After I remove the lasso, you will have an insatiable appetite for the richest, most fattening food. The compulsion will be subconscious. You will have no idea that your desires are being controlled, no memory or even suspicion that I possess your magic lasso or have given you these instructions. Now, turn back to that drug dealing scum." Wonder Woman turned and bent back down over the suspect. Col. Trevor let out a nervous sigh and slipped the lasso off her. "You did a good job," Wonder Woman said. Col. Trevor's heart skipped a beat. "He's out cold," she continued. Col. Trevor breathed a little easier. "We should revive him and question him." Col. Trevor decided to test the power of his commands. "Maybe you should use your magic lasso to get the truth out of him." "No, we'll take him into custody and get the answers when he comes to." Wonder Woman said, lifting the dealer like a rag doll and tossing him over her shoulder. " To be honest, right now, I've worked up quite an appetite. I'm famished, I don't remember the last time I was this hungry," she said, rather shyly. They returned to headquarters, where Col. Trevor had dinner brought into the office. Wonder Woman polished off the entire roast chicken and all the sides that had been brought in from the commissary so quickly, she didn't noticed that Steve had hardly had a bite. As she licked a stray bit of mashed potatoes and gravy from her lips, she looked at him and asked brightly, "What about dessert?" Steve could barely believe his good luck. "Oh, you know the commissary makes every dish taste like chipped beef on toast. I know a bakery that makes the most incredible desserts--cheesecakes, tortes, pastries, the works. I'll call them and have them deliver something." He had them deliver several types of cheesecakes, several different pies and at least four different cakes along with a tray of pastries. He had them set up in the conference room, then led Wonder Woman in. "I apologize," he demurred, "I wasn't sure what you would like, so I got an assortment." Her eyes were shining with anticipation. "Why don't you get yourself a little something while I look in on our suspect." When he returned little less than a hour later all the desserts were polished off. Wonder Woman was sprawled on a conference chair. Her bloated belly bulged out on all sides of the belt of power, her star-spangled panty-girdle was rounded with contents of her feast. Steve Trevor was ecstatic, at this rate the Amazon would soon reach the plump perfection he desired. He held back the impulse to go and pat her full tummy. "Ugh," Wonder Woman groaned, "I don't know what came over me. I was just ravenous! You won't believe this, but I still feel a little hungry." Steve was about to pick up the phone to order more food for her superhuman appetite when the phone rang with an emergency alert. Instantly, Steve and Wonder Woman sprang into action. As they went to do battle with the smugglers and then over the next few days, Steve learned to his sorrow that Wonder Woman's conditioning wasn't having the desired effect. The extra calories where like putting top fuel in a race car, Wonder Woman went into overdrive. She was taking the spotlight with amazing feats like she never had before. Col. Trevor cursed himself. It made perfect sense. Her superhuman strength required lots of energy. And lots of energy required lots of fuel. For all he knew, she probably always ate like a horse. He'd only changed her diet from what he was sure was a very balanced sensible diet to one loaded with fat, carbs and calories. In the odd way that the women in his life seemed to gang up on him, at the same time his assistant, Diana, was becoming positively hyperactive in the performance of her duties. He realized that he was going to have to find some way to stop her crime fighting activity and settle down, take it easy for a while. The case they were currently working on dropped what seemed to be the perfect solution into his lap. The head of the drug syndicate they were pursuing was killed in a Coast Guard raid on his private yacht. Steve found millions in secret Grand Cayman accounts in the drug lord's encrypted computer files He also found a private island estate in the Pacific. It was meant to be the drug lord's retreat for when he left the business. He'd wisely set it up so that it was self-sufficient for years and completely unknown to any of his associates. Not too many retire peacefully from organized crime, but this guy thought he'd found a way. Until the Coast Guard gave him an alternate retirement plan. Col. Trevor slipped the accounts and the island into his own possession undetected. He made the arrangements with the right kind of people to keep the island stocked in a manner which would assure no questions asked and no questions raised. Then it was only a matter of getting Wonder Woman to stand still long enough so he could slip the lasso around her and "convince" her to take a well-deserved vacation. He was able to do in a moment of relative peace and privacy in his office. While she was at the computer looking at some satellite recon images, Steve stole up behind her and slipped the lasso around her again. "You will not resist!" he commanded before she had time to react. "You will agree with what I have to say. You've been working too hard lately, we both have. We will take a long vacation together. I will tell you where. You will take us in your invisible jet. You will tell no one of our plans. You will trust me with all the details. You are still compelled to eat that lovely, fattening diet and you will not remember that I used the lasso on you. " Col. Trevor went from his office to the director of their agency. He resigned his post citing overwork and a need to get away and get a fresh perspective. He stopped on his way out only to say good-bye to his assistant, Diana. But he couldn't find her. Within hours, before anyone could react to his sudden departure, he and Wonder Woman were winging their way to the hidden island retreat undetectable in her invisible jet. Whoever said, crime doesn't pay, hadn't seen this set up. The estate was ultra-modern, state of the art. Power was supplied by a geo-thermal system. There was a back-up hydro-electric system fed from the waterfalls on the island as well. The estate was built into the side of one of the mountains, even the swimming pool was built to mimic a natural grotto, so all was undetectable from the air. Within the house was every conceivable luxury. The island had been planted all over with fruit-bearing trees, edible plants and wild game. and the villa had been stocked so that the inhabitants could drop out of sight of all civilization for years, long enough for old scores and vendettas to be forgotten. As soon as they'd landed and settled in, Steve suggested a swim. He put on a Speedo-style bikini and walked into Wonder Woman's suite with a gift-wrapped package. "What's this?" she squealed with delight. "Consider it an official Wonder Woman uniform, tropical issue." Steve joked. Wonder Woman pulled out a tiny bikini, royal blue thong panties embroidered with stars to mimic her spangled panty-girdle and a red bandeau bra with the cups held together with a golden falcon clip to take the place of her breastplate. "You wish," she smirked, "my uniform now is practically a swimsuit. One-piece, however, I'm sorry to disappoint you. And I have a uniform for swimming, as well." She spun around and with a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, she was clothed in a star-spangled, navy blue body stocking that covered her head to toe like a deep water wet suit. "The other outfit will be fine for sunning and exercise." Steve was disappointed. He'd hoped to see every inch of her transformation. If he could have his way, she'd have been naked. But he'd hoped that the bikini would be an acceptable alternative. No matter, he thought, eventually she'll outgrow all of the outfits. But Steve was bound for more disappointment. To Wonder Woman, a vacation seemed to consist entirely of feeding her irresistible appetite coupled with nearly constant exercise. Steve was working himself to a frazzle constantly preparing her food. She ran endlessly on the beach, did countless laps in the pool and worked out in the villa's gymnasium with all the machines on maximum weight. Sometimes she'd workout alone. But, if Steve wasn't in the kitchen, she'd invite him along, giggling as she lapped him in the pool or on the beach. He tried to workout in the gym alone because she had the annoying habit of asking, "is that all the weight you're going to use?" He knew it was time to use the lasso again. As she sat at the dinner table, bellowing for Steve to bring her food, he slipped the magic bonds around her once again. "You will not resist!" he started as he always did, "and we are going to get a few things straight. First of all, I am NOT your servant. I know you're hungry and you're still going to be. But you are going to be a little more patient. And you are going to cut out all this exercise crap. You will want only to laze in the sun and eat rich, fattening food. You will pay no attention to the passing of time, I will arrange your schedule for you. Have you got that?" "Yes," Wonder Woman whispered. "Now," Steve finished, "as always you will have no recollection that I have your lasso or that I have used it on you." Steve took the lasso off her and Wonder Woman proceeded to polish off an entire Hawaiian-style luau. He waited with anticipation over the next few weeks and began to give up hope of ever realizing his dream. His first ray of hope came as he was standing by the pool. Wonder Woman ran over and playfully pushed him into the water. Ordinarily, she would have tossed him effortlessly halfway across the pool. Instead, it seemed to take all her strength to knock him off balance and into the pool. Once again, he had an insight into the extraordinary physique he was dealing with. Even without activity, her fantastic Amazon muscles went right on burning calories. But without exercise, the muscles were turning to flab. They were losing their tone and power. Soon her supercharged metabolism would slow down to adapt to her new sedentary lifestyle. Steve watched hawk-like for signs of change. The first came within a week. As Wonder Woman got up from her chaise to go in for lunch one morning, Steve followed behind watching a very noticeable jiggling in her former buns of steel. He couldn't contain himself from brushing a hand inadvertently over her bottom as he passed her heading towards the kitchen. Even with the brief, stolen feel he could tell that the muscles in that flabby fanny had grown soft. Soon other changes became apparent. A round little ** belly took the place of her washboard abs. And her proud bosom became even fuller and started to sag down pressing the breastplate onto her newly rounding tummy. In the morning a few days later, Steve heard grunting and groaning as he passed Wonder Woman's suite. He knocked on the door and went right in. Wonder Woman was standing in front of the mirror desperately trying to fasten the belt of power around her thickening waist. "It's the damnedest thing, but I don't seem to be able to fasten my belt of power." Exasperated, she gave up. Even as she vainly tried to suck in her tummy in front of Steve, she probed her fat belly with a finger. She found she could pinch more than an inch. Then, turning her back to the mirror, she cupped her hands under her butt cheeks where the bottom of her panty-girdle disappeared into a fleshy fold. She hefted up her sagging derriere with a moan. "No doubt about it." She sighed, "easy living is making this girl soft as a marshmallow. I have got to get myself back on a diet and exercise regime. I have got to lose these pounds I've gained." " I think you look just fine," Steve comforted her, "and don't worry about the belt. I don't think we're going to run into anything more challenging at the pool than a few chocolate eclairs." Steve was worried that her old discipline might return. But within minutes of jumping into the pool to do laps, Wonder Woman was on a pool float and inquiring about the eclairs, her vow forgotten. Without the belt to energize her physique, her transformation accelerated. Under her proud chin, you could begin to see its double. The silky thighs that used to ascend to a gap at her crotch without touching, now rubbed together with new chubbiness. A couple of weeks later, as Steve passed her room on the way to their morning pool time, he heard muffled sobbing. He knocked and started to enter when Wonder Woman let out a panicked, "don't come in!" "What's the matter?" he inquried. "This is so embarrassing," Wonder Woman panted, "but I can't seem to get my outfit up over my thighs. I said I was going to get my hardbody back and I only seem to have gotten softer and fatter!" "Well," Steve said hopefully, "why not put on your tropical-issue uniform." "That tiny bikini!" Wonder Woman shrieked, "with this body!" "Well," Steve countered, "you could go naked." "Oh," Wonder Woman smirked, "you'd like that." "What other option do you have?" Steve stated flatly. "One other," Wonder Woman called through the door confidently. A moment late Steve heard a clap of thunder, followed by the sounds of ripping fabric and then something that sounded like the crack of a whip and a double crash of glass. Unable to restrain his curiosity, he stuck his head inside the door. In the middle of the room. Wonder Woman was in shocked disbelief. She was standing with the tattered remains of her swim outfit draped over body, split at virtually every seem. Steve couldn't resist. "Okay, I understand the sound of thunder and the ripping sound. But I could swear I heard something like the crack of a whip and the sound of glass breaking. What was that?" "It was the belt of power. As I transformed it tried to magically appear around my waist. Then it just snapped off. I don't know about the breaking glass" Then they both turned and looked to see where the belt had flown off, obliterating a lamp on its trajectory out one of the room's picture windows. Steve ran to the empty window frame and leaned out to see the belt of power lying in a pile of broken glass. Wonder Woman's humiliation filled him with a new sense of confidence. "I'll see to that later, he said. And as he swaggered from the room, he called over his shoulder, "the bikini or naked, suit yourself." Then he chuckled. Moments later, Wonder Woman appeared at the pool in the bikini, padding stiffly over to the chaises. Steve laughed, "you're going to pass out if you keep trying to hold in your breath and your tummy." Wonder Woman let out a dejected sigh. As she did, her ribcage fell causing love handles to form at the top of her bikini bottom. In front, the band of the thong panties strained against their fleshy cargo. But the bikini bottoms were nowhere near as overworked as the red bra and golden falcon as they struggled to support her overflowing breasts. "Look at me," Wonder Woman moaned, grabbing the roll of chub around her middle, "I've let myself go to **." She tried to suck in her breath again and ran a probing hand over the still noticeable bulge where once rock hard abs had been. "I've gotten so fat, I can't even suck in my gut anymore!" Steve was feeling cocky in more ways than one. He decided to finally give in to an impulse he'd had for a long time, to give Wonder Woman a little taste of the humiliation he'd suffered. It was time to make obvious the new state of affairs. An extra fifty pounds and less muscle tone meant that physically Wonder Woman was no longer a lean, lethal tigress, she was a chubby, cuddly kitten. He got up from his chaise and walked around Wonder Woman in a mock inspection. When he was behind her, he gave her a sharp smack on the bottom. The impact caused tremors through the flab of her once firm gluts. Wonder Woman gasped in shock and embarrassment. "Maybe a little training is called for," he remarked with feigned thoughtfulness, "how about a little hand-to-hand?" "Oh, come on, Steve," Wonder Woman cried, "I am still an Amazon princess, after all. You're a good little fighter and athlete, but you've never been my equal." "Well," Steve drawled, "it might not be much of a workout for you. But I'll try to make it some challenge. Let's go." "Okay," Wonder Woman said skeptically, "but remember you asked for it." She launched her attack. But instead of her usual graceful pounce, she managed only a clumsy lunge. At first, she tried to grab Steve in a bear hug and lift him up. Steve could sense her surprise when her flabby Amazonian muscles couldn't respond with the necessary strength to pick him up and throw him down. Steve toyed with her, holding his power and expertise in check. Wonder Woman was left to believe that she was more in command than she was. Actually, Steve was surprised at how much of her strength and skill remained. She was still very healthy. Steve let the struggle go on. He let her wear herself out while he enjoyed grappling with her new, lush physique. Under the pretense of their match, he groped every inch of her body--her soft, ripe breasts, her delicious, full tummy and her gorgeous, round bottom. Eventually, Wonder Woman grew exhausted. Her attempts became more and more feeble. Steve began to take the offensive. To tease her, he reached out and snapped the band of her bikini bottom. "You'll pay for that," Wonder Woman gasped out as she fought for breath. She delivered what she thought would be a crushing blow, but it bounced ineffectually off Steve's abs. "Naughty, naughty," Steve smirked, "I think I'm going to have to punish you." Steve grasped her by one of her bracelets and led her over to one of the loungers. He sat down and drew her across his lap. It was a struggle, but he managed it. Putting her across his knee, he spanked her soft derriere until it was a bright crimson. Wonder Woman struggled and squirmed to free herself with her remaining strength. Steve wanted his domination to be complete. Holding both her wrists in a vise-like grip in one hand, he turned her over on his lap so her soft belly was exposed. He patted her ** gut. "Stop it," Wonder Woman whined, "it's embarrassing." Steve gave her a look of commanding disdain. Wonder Woman began to sob with frustration unable to resist as he stroked the soft blubber around her midsection. Finally, he drew his free hand up to the falcon clasp that held her bandeau top together. He unsnapped it easily, exposing her exquisite breasts. He fondled them assertively. Finally, as he pinched each of her firm, pink nipples, Wonder Woman ceased struggling and tearfully supplicated. Steve laid her on the chaise. "I'm not an Amazon princess," she half panted and half moaned, "I'm a plump, plump princess." "Well, I promised you I'd make it a challenge," Steve remarked with a casual air. "You didn't have to humiliate me like that," Wonder Woman complained. Then she paused thoughtfully, "but I guess with what I said and my attitude, I asked for it." She smiled and reached up to shake Steve's hand. "Good match, you really showed me something." "Anytime you want a rematch, Princess," Steve replied. "I'll go into training immediately," Wonder Woman stated, then she added, "right after lunch." Occasionally, Wonder Woman would make a half-hearted attempt at regaining her fighting trim. Once Steve found her back in the gym and quietly spied on her. She was surveying her new physique with disappointment. She took off her bikini top and surveyed her sagging tits. She cradled them in her hands, lifting them up to the gravity-defying positions they'd had before she'd grown soft. Then with a dejected moan, she let them fall, slapping against her bulging tummy. She ran her hand over her out of shape abs and gluts,then smacked them angrily. Striking a flexing pose, for a moment, the remnants of her once proud physique stood there quivering. Then they fell in a flabby avalanche. She put her top on with resignation and got down on the floor to do crunches. As she strained to lift herself up, rolls of plumpness formed around her middle. After only a few minutes, she fell back, panting and exhausted. Steve ignoring the hard-on that was starting in his own bikini briefs, he walked over to Wonder Woman. He patted the plump, rounded dome of her belly. "You're filling out nicely there," he said with a laugh, "have you been sneaking in a few brews to sprout this beer gut?" "Well," Wonder Woman huffed indignantly as she got up," if that isn't the ** calling the kettle black." With that, she prodded a finger into Steve's belly. He looked down and realized that in his total obsession to transform Wonder Woman, he ignored his own physique. He spent most of his days lying on the chaise next to her, getting up only occasionally to tend to their needs. And, even in the course of snacking lightly along with her for the sake of companionship, he'd consumed a lot of empty calories. He was nowhere near a far gone as Wonder Woman, but he'd had an obvious roll around the middle and had lost a lot of definition in his upper body. "Look at us," Wonder Woman cried, "if we had to run from here to the beach, we couldn't catch our breaths, much less catch any criminals." "Yes," the former hardbody, former colonel replied, "but there's no one else here to worry about besides ourselves, much less criminals. You've never looked more lovely. And to be honest, I've never felt better. After working as hard as I have all my life, it's damn nice to relax and let go a little." "I hate to say it," Wonder Woman admitted, "but I'm feeling very much the same way." She looked down at the bulge in Steve's bikini. "And I can see you don't have any complaints." They celebrated with their largest feast yet and a two hour long orgy of desserts. Steve had only the final phase of his plan to realize, quite literally, the consummation. But other than her sly comment the first day they had been by the pool in their bikinis, he'd seen no sign of awakening sexual passions in the Amazon. And he'd sworn an oath to himself that this final step would be completely her idea. He wasn't going to broach the subject. And he refused to employ the lasso. He wouldn't be satisfied unless she gave herself up, not only willingly, but enthusiastically. He used the lasso a final time. Wonder Woman was at the state of pleasant plumpness he desired. And she was quite content where she was at physically and geographically, even without magic compulsion. So he released her from the previous suggestions. Other than the addition of a little bit of playful exercise, the only other change in their routine was that Wonder Woman's appetite fell to a more normal level and Steve was freed from many of his kitchen duties. Wonder Woman, swathed in comfortable flesh, was transformed into a contented plumper. She leveled off at a condition of healthful chubbiness. But she still had the greatest change left, her dormant sexual urges needed to be brought to full glorious flower. Steve decided to gently nudge her progress along when one day she polished off an entire cheesecake by the pool before it could completely thaw, even in the warm, tropical sun. Afterwards, he laughed at the voracious spectacle and asked her if her light snack had given her the energy for a little swim. Wonder Woman moaned and rubbed her distended abdomen. "Ohhh," she cried, "after that I can hardly move." Then she giggled lightly and joked, "I thought my only weakness was to have my bracelets shackled together by man. I guess cheesecake is another of my weaknesses." "Here," Steve said, "let me help you." Then rubbing suntan lotion into both palms he laid his hands on her tummy and began to massage her sumptuous flesh. Wonder Woman closed her eyes and threw her head back in delight and purred with ecstasy. Steve knew that only one step remained, a true awakening of Wonder Woman's full sexual passions. And, as difficult as it may be, he had to be patient. Wonder Woman had been alone on an island inhabited by only women for over two millenium. Even the concept of sex was only a recent addition to her thinking, and Steve wanted to stimulate desire. Right now, Steve was glad that she'd closed her eyes as he ran his hands all over her fantastic body. That way she wouldn't see the raging hard-on causing an obvious bulge in his briefs. She wasn't ready to deal with it. The first true signs occurred as Wonder Woman napped on the chaise in the warm afternoon sun. Steve could see that she was agitated by the dream she was having. Then she started to moan, unconsciously her fingers wandered down and explored between her legs. He could see that her bikini bottoms were becoming wet with excitement. For a brief time, Wonder Woman stayed to herself. As Steve passed the door to her suite, he would hear almost wanton moaning. Occasionally, he would glance out one of the windows of the estate to see Wonder Woman on the chaise by the pool with the crotch of her bikini bottoms pushed aside exploring her mons with her fingers. Within the next week, he spied her by the pool completely naked, the bikini in a little pile beside her as she masturbated herself to a wild, unrestrained climax. But it was still a side of herself she believed she was keeping private. A day later, Steve went out to the pool to see a naked Wonder Woman snoozing in the chaise. It was the first time he'd seen her entirely bare that close. The sight made his heart rush. Her gorgeous, full breasts bobbed slightly with her breathing. Without the bikini band cutting into it, her belly had a rich roundness. All her exquisite curves were exposed, turned to a deep golden tan by the tropical sun. And between her thighs was the soft silky whisper of her pussy. Steve slid quietly into the cool water of the pool to try to relieve that desire that was pouring over him in waves. He was nearly at the end of his endurance. A wicked thought occurred to him. He shucked off his bikini and threw it in a went pile on to the empty chaise beside the sleeping Wonder Woman. Then he paddled around in the pool waiting for her to wake. Finally, she stirred. She stretch languidly, a move that shifted her beautiful breasts in the most inviting way. Equally inviting was the lustful glance she shot at Steve. He rose up out of the pool, completely naked. As the sight of Wonder Woman fell upon his gaze and the warmth of the sun fell on his cock, it sprung to full erection. Wonder Woman licked her licks in a subconscious sign of desire. "I assumed this was the uniform of the day," Steve commented casually. He walked over to the chaises and picked up the sun tan oil. "Do you need a little more?" he asked. Wonder Woman swallowed hard and gasped out, "no, I'm fine. " But," she continued, "you could use a nice application." Then after a pause she added a timid, "all over." Steve laid back in the chaise as Wonder Woman began to massage the oil starting at his chest. She patted a little on to his arms and then continued down rubbing it on to his stomach. She was very quiet and seemed to be in deep concentration. She passed down under to his legs, but as she applied the lotion in long strokes occasionally a stray finger would brush against his balls or his cock that was throbbing in anticipation. Now Steve closed his eyes and threw his head back. To be this close and not there was agony after all his waiting. When suddenly one of Wonder Woman's hand wrapped itself firmly around his shaft, he lost concentration for a second and nearly came right in her face. He regained his control. He looked at her and their eyes met. "Certain areas of your body look like the haven't seen much sun. They could be very sensitive," she said sheepishly. "Well, you've got that right," Steve drawled, "certain areas of my body are real sensitive." "I'll be sure to do a thorough job," Wonder Woman said brightly. "Yeah, you do a real good, um, job," Steve gasped as she began to run both hands enthusiastically along his cock. It had been so long and his resolve was at an end. He laid back and relaxed into the sensuous pleasure of the moment. Eventually, he erupted with a ferocious orgasm. "Oh, my," Wonder Woman gasped, a few drops of cum dripping from her hair. She'd barely avoided the shot. Steve handed her one towel and began to clean himself with another. "Well," he said, "it's liable to do that." The next day when he arrived at the pool, Wonder Woman was already there, naked and rubbing oil into her hands in eager anticipation. Although he'd sworn that their union was to be her choice, he knew how long she'd taken exploring herself. She might be dealing with new desires. But his were full blown and long-standing. He was in no mood to fool around with possibly weeks of simple hand jobs. He decided to press the issue. Wonder Woman began to work the oil into his flesh, moving quickly to his cock, coaxing it into erection. She worked on it with rapt attention. "You know," Steve stated flatly, "you can do more with that." "What?" she anxiously queried. "Kiss it," he commanded. Wonder Woman brushed the tip of his shaft with a tender kiss. Then she began to kiss more passionately all along its length. "Now," Steve whispered intently, "take it into your mouth." She wrapped her lips around his member, gingerly at first. But soon she was working at it with a vengeance. She was curious, exploring all the things she could do with her lips, her teeth and her tongue. She experimented with innumerable variations of speed and depth. It was the most extraordinary blow job of Steve's life. She might have been inexperience and unschooled, but she was turning out to be a natural. When he climaxed she took his load with ease, then laid back with a sweet sigh of satisfaction. She accepted his mentoring so gracefully and enthusiastically, that Steve decided that he should take more of a leading role. That night as she began an encore oral performance. He deftly shifted their positions around so they could perform a "sixty-nine." He restrained himself to a gentle massage of her pussy, delicately protecting her maidenhead. Still it was the first time she'd felt a man's touch down there. She shivered with delight and moaned with desire. The next morning, Steve woke up alone. He decided to go for his usual morning swim. He started towards his own quarters to put on his speedo. But then he figured that as things stood, it was probably unnecessary. Wonder Woman was already out by the pool, for some reason she was wearing her bikini. Well, it was hard enough to figure out any woman, much less a Wonder Woman. "Hi, lover!" she cooed, then she picked up a pastry from the yable beside her laden with a huge breakfast. Well, sort of, but not completely, he thought to himself. Technically, she was still a virgin. But that was a two-thousand year wait that would be over before the end of this day, if he had anything to do with it. He walked over to her and kissed her deeply. "I'm going for a little dip, care to join me?" he asked. "No, actually I'm in the middle of breakfast. I've just been insatiable lately, or hadn't you noticed?" she said slyly. "I'll join you in a moment," he replied with a wink. He dove into the pool and swam laps until he could see that Wonder Woman had finished her voluminous morning feast. As he rose out of the water, Wonder Woman moaned and rubbed the bulge in her tummy that her huge meal had caused. "I think I need your magic hands, stud!" she called out to him. He went to her and began to fondle and kiss her delicious belly. He moved up to her breasts. "I don't think we need this," Wonder Woman said, unhooking the falcon clasp and casually tossing her top aside. Steve started to stroke her breasts. He ran his tongue around her nipples until they were hard. He was becoming pretty hard himself. Finally, he was up to her exquisite face and their lips met. They kissed passionately and hungrily as if they were trying to devour each other. It seemed to go on for an eternity. But finally, Steve began to work his way back down her body, peppering her with baby kisses along every inch until he was down to the band of her bikini. "That must go," Wonder Woman said in a matter of fact manner. "It will only get in the way of what is about to happen," she said flashing her electric smile with a new erotic twist. Steve slid off the panties that he could see were wet with desire. Then he lifted up her pelvis and entered her as firmly as possible without being rough. In an instant, Wonder Woman's virginity was gone. Steve continued on, attending to her ripe, full body like a queen. Over the next few days they continued on in a marathon session trying to discover all the carnal pleasures they could. But still, it was as though the centuries of pent-up desire in Wonder Woman were inexhaustible. Once again, Steve was hard pressed to keep up with her. He didn't mind at all, this time. Eventually, they came to the realization that they couldn't make love all the time. Other appetites began to insist on getting a little attention. Although their lives began to settle into a more ordinary routine, their love making remained frequent and passionate. Months passed. One day, coming back from a jog down to the beach, a very winded Wonder Woman collapsed on to one of the chaises. Steve began to tickle her until she was literally gasping for air between peals of laughter. She tried to squirm away, but he g rabbed her by the magic bracelets that she still wore around her wrists. He suddenly stopped, staring transfixed at the sight of the bracelets. "Why do you still wear these? I mean, let's face it, hon, you're reflexes aren't what they were. Your bullet deflecting days are over, you can't even block me in a game of slap and tickle." For emphasis, he shot a hand down and goosed her. Wonder Woman let out an excited shriek, then tried to compose herself and be serious. "There are a couple of reasons. They've been secrets, but I don't think we should have anymore of those between us. "First of all, the bracelets imbue me with a special aura. Because of that aura, ordinary mortals are unable to discern the difference between me and my everyday secret identity." She slipped off the bracelets and suddenly Steve Trevor was stunned to see that she was Diana Prince, his former assistant. Now that he realized the connection, he was amazed he'd never seen it. "I don't believe it, Diana Prince! I was always thought you might show up here. But I was worried that you were the one person in the world who had the ability to find us here. Now I understand why you and Wonder Woman always seemed to be in cahoots. You were the same person. I was being ganged up on by a gang of one. That was why I could never conduct an operation without you knowing." He was getting a little confused about who he was talking to and about who he was talking. He was also thinking about his own secret. "You aren't disappointed, are you?" she asked anxiously. "Not in the least," Steve replied slowly. "Then why are you so hesitant, lover?" she queried. "Well," he said, "I also have something to reveal." Then he laid out the details of his use of the lasso. Wonder Woman listened calmly and patiently. When he was through, she took his hand. "Well, that was pretty devious of you. But I can't really be angry with you. You just intuitively found a way for us to act on the feelings we both had. And as far as the post-hypnotic suggestions go, they would eventually wear off if they weren't in accordance with that person's will or desires. I guess I always wanted to be fat and happy. I'm glad to be the woman I am, the woman that fell in love with you on this island," she said. "And I'm glad you're the woman I fell in love with on this island," he said ashe kissed her, "and I couldn't be happier about that." "The other thing that you should know is that while I wear the bracelets, my aging process is halted. They're what give Amazons' their virtual immortality. If I continue to where them, I'll remain the same as you age." It didn't matter to Steve. He was too happy and in love to withhold such a gift from his lover. As for Steve, he didn't live forever, but he lived well and he lived fully. The Final Mission.pdf