Your friends may be wondering why you never want to go out with them any more, and why they can never get you on the phone...and the answer, of course, is that you've got a brand new way to spend your free time.
You'll never tell them how you just can't wait to get home, lock the door, spin around three times to trigger the transformation...and then recline on the bedroom carpet before the big wall mirror, trying as hard as you can to get used to your new, superpowered secret identity in private. The fact that you could go outside as Wonder Woman at any time -- that you can parade yourself in public, dressed like this, as much as you want -- is wonderfully tempting, but somehow you keep putting it off...the view in the mirror is just so intoxicating that you don't want to leave it. There's just a particular feeling that comes over you the instant you transform that just never goes away; you can spend hours and hours posing at the mirror, waiting for that special tingle of forbidden excitement to dissipate, but, if anything, it only seems to grow more delightfully intense.
As you lie here staring at your face and body, you contemplate your guilty secret, that nobody else knows: as Wonder Woman, you're locked in a coonstant state of permanent arousal. You learned this incredible truth very fast: you can still vividly remember those first few moments after your first transformation, when a now-familiar erotic thrill charged through you...and you waited helplessly for it to pass before discovering that it
wouldn't. In the hours that followed, you felt like you were in some kind of dream: you had never even imagined what it would be like to walk around constantly on the brink of orgasm -- not just the physical sensations (like the electrifyingly pleasurable tingles on your skin), but the
emotional effects (like the surges of wild happiness that shoot drunkenly through you without warning).
At first it was incredibly difficult, but you've slowly managed to find ways to function rationally while trapped in a constant pre-orgasmic daze (such as learning to ignore the waves of euphoria prompted by any glimpse of your reflection). But some effects are impossible to fight: you found out the hard way that seeing people react to your beauty triggers an uncontrollably powerful multiplication of the effect that can leave you gasping for breath. There's just something about the staring eyes that feels so good, you can barely conceal your pleasure. In fact, you've become convinced that anyone looking at you can guess your secret and totally tell how turned-on you are by yourself -- a realization that unfortunately brings you even closer to climax. (You've started to notice a particular smirk people get when talking to you, like they know you're trying to concentrate but you're distracted by yet another oncoming orgasm caused by your prettiness.)
(Of course, most of your problem would go away if you were allowed to wear the conventional, one-piece Lynda Carter Wonder Woman costume --but you
can't. Whatever mysterious force decided that your attire just
had to be re-tailored to look like a swimsuit-issue cover had the perhaps-not-unintended effect of amping up your constant sensual excitement to nearly alarming levels...and there's nothing you can do about it. It doesn't help that spectators naturally assume
you altered your uniform...confirming suspicions that despite her austere demeanor, Wonder Woman really likes to flaunt her voluptuous body.)
The "real" Wonder Woman would
never have to face the kind of problem that you're dealing with. For Diana, this new appearance
is extreme -- she wouldn't have
chosen to become so sultry-supermodel beautiful, and she
never would have opted to turn her uniform into a bikini so she could prance around exposing her body like a Vegas showgirl --but once those things had happened, the Amazon Princess could deal with the consequences. But for
you, looking and dressing like this is like being trapped in a wet dream...no matter how long you wait, the delicious sensation just won't go away, even if you
try to ignore it.
As you feel the weight of your oversized breasts pressing into the carpet, reeling all over again from the sensation of the bikini uniform, and feeling that same near-orgasmic thrill beginning to build all over again, you realize that your arousal hasn't diminished a bit since the moment you first turned into Wonder Woman. Once you've admitted to yourself that you can't escape the guilty waves of self-pleasure, you're free to leave the mirror and go out in public, shamelessly indulging the racy feeling of being endlessly stared at. And, be honest: would any of those avid spectators not envy you
even more if they knew that Wonder Woman's sexy new look
really does feel so good that it causes orgasms--and that all of your flirty strutting and posing triggers the public surges of ecstasy that they can read in your lustful face? The life you're beginning, you realize joyously, is going to be filled with a kind of happiness you've never encountered before, now that you've accepted your fate -- you can fly into the sunset anticipating worlds of bliss to come.
