Wet Wonder Woman

(Based on my very first watersports fantasy)
Though she’d never convince anyone else of it, it was often difficult being the most powerful woman in the world. Certainly, being a superheroine had its moments. You got to stomp on the occasional arch–criminal, you never aged so you always looked stunning, you were adored by millions of fans, especially undersexed boys, and you could always stride around confident in the knowledge that you could do things that no one else in the world could do. But there were drawbacks, things you couldn’t let the public know about or they might tarnish your heroic image. Keeping a secret identity was always the worst, because leading a double life can sap anyone’s strength, but there was also the hassle of finding parts for your supervehicle without leaving a paper trail, or finding just the right material for your costume. And now some criminals were suing their captors for “superhero brutality”—and winning! But for Wonder Woman, the tall, sexy, superpowered Amazon, the biggest drawback to being a superheroine was the way her body was designed. Though it was superhuman in strength and proportion, it was still human, which meant she had normal human needs, wants, and weaknesses. Mainly, every muscle in her body worked like every muscle in a normal woman’s body, only in an enhanced fashion. That meant her heart worked harder, her arms lifted more, her legs carried her farther, faster. It also meant that other, less thought about muscles worked harder as well. Thus the problem. One of those lesser known muscles was her bladder. Like her heart, it worked harder at it’s job, in the case that it could hold much more urine than the average woman’s. The problem was it couldn’t hold it for much longer than the average woman, and Wonder Woman tended to forget that when she drank, always assuming that her bladder would hold until she got to a toilet, or found someplace to relieve herself. She didn’t consider how high stress her main occupation was, nor that it often called her to duty when she needed to pee the most. And while her bladder worked twice as hard to hold her pee, it also worked twice as hard to expel it when it could last no longer. Once, after battling a giant ape to a standstill, she’d had to pee so bad that she flew into the window of a nearby car and flooded the floor with a puddle of urine an inch deep. She begged the nearby reporters and police not to let it go public, but the blue fabric that covered her crotch dripped with piss, and the fact that the white stars had turned a shiny yellow made it pretty clear what her problem was to any observant person. She’d seen nothing of it in the papers though, and was glad it hadn’t turned into an event, but from that moment on, she tried to be more careful about her liquid intake, and visited any available rest room in her civilian identity as often as she could. Sometime later, she was invited to a special event in the city. The most prominent women in the state were there, honoring those women who had made a positive impact on city life. Wonder Woman was the most famous honoree, and upon arriving was set upon by the crowd. They peppered her with questions and compliments as they plied her with wine. Wonder Woman took the drinks to be polite, making the usual assumptions about her body’s stamina. It takes a lot of drinks to make me drunk, she thought, and they’re only small glasses. I think my bladder will make it. It’s been so quiet in the city lately. I’ll be able to just go home and pee. She wouldn’t think of visiting the Ladies’ room in the convention center. Too many people to see such a weakness. If she had to pee, she would simply have to wait until she got home. It was an easy decision to make at the beginning of the event, and after only two drinks. It was a different story hours later. There were preliminary speeches to be made, then a toast for each honoree, followed by a plaque presentation and a speech. Wonder Woman knew she would be last, and there were so many others before her, and as each was introduced, then toasted, then given the plaque, then spoke, the Amazon felt her bladder fill, more and more. She looked out in the audience from the dais, watching as many of the women excused themselves to the bathroom. She wished she could bring herself to join them, but she was so concerned with her image she merely crossed her legs and prayed to Poseiden to keep the waters that filled her inside her until she could let them go in private. When there were three women to go before her, Wonder Woman’s bladder had reached its capacity. Her legs were crossed hard around her star–spangled crotch, and while her face was pleasant and passive, her body was in turmoil. Her hands gripped her seat hard enough to leave dents. Two to go, and the superheroine couldn’t help but fidget in her chair, wiggling her beautiful bottom as inconspicuously as possible. One to go, and she pressed her ass into the chair as hard as she could without breaking it, squeezing her pussy between the cushion and her thighs. Finally she was introduced, and she was struck by a sudden panic. What if she peed herself as she stood? Or as she made her speech? What could she do? Suddenly it was too late to consider such things as she had to stand and receive her plaque. Standing upright was the hardest movement she had ever made, so desperate was she not to pee in her costume. She stood like a model, one leg crossed in front of the other, surreptitiously squeezing her thighs around her cunt as she smiled and held up the plaque for pictures, then for the amount of time it took to make her speech. Though the event was over, she was in agony as she was crowded on the way out as much as she was on the way in. Finally she made it outside, but reporters and fans made it impossible for her to fly off immediately, and Gods did she need to fly off! Her beautiful legs jiggled uncontrollably when standing cross–legged no longer worked, and her answers to the questions shouted at her from the crowd were short and terse. Ultimately she had to hold the plaque in front of her crotch, allowing her to squeeze her bladder with her free hand. Finally she made an excuse to go and leaped into the night sky. Flying is harder to do than it looks to an average person, and with a full bladder it was nearly impossible. The speed and drag made the fluid weigh all the more, and she found that she had to cross her legs and hold her crotch in mid–air, making it impossible to fly a straight path. Soon she gave up and descended onto the nearest high–rise roof. Once grounded, Wonder Woman was totally immobilized. The plaque was thrown to the roof as she clasped both hands around her pussy and twisted her legs together, squeezing and crunching them all together. Her ass jiggled and bounced, shaking her fabulous tits as they rose and fell with her heavy breaths. She whimpered and sobbed as she wondered what the hell she was going to do. It seemed she had no choice but to urinate on the roof. Her costume was slight, but its style made it difficult to remove. It was centered on the belt, which was made of gold and didn’t stretch. Molded to her waist, it had to be removed before anything else could be taken off. She tried, but she couldn’t unclasp it with one hand, and the other was busy grinding her peehole. The fabric of the star–spangled crotch was too tight for her to just move it aside, and she’d still wet it with as much as she was holding. It looked as if she would have to just rip it apart and repair it later. Wonder Woman’s predicament was not as secret as she’d hoped. She was being watched from far away. The evil witch–goddess Circe was watching her wiggle and squirm through a crystal ball, and decided to add to the hero’s problems. With a spell and a gesture, Wonder Woman disappeared from the roof. The Amazon found herself trapped in a small, bare room, lit from above. Before she could get her bearings, two of the walls started closing in on her. She looked on in horror as they got closer and closer. She could probably hold them back, but not while she was locked in this struggle with her bladder. Soon she had no choice and, keeping her legs crossed tight, stretched out her powerful arms to hold back the walls. As she struggled with the walls her ass bounced and shook more erratically, and soon she could feel urine escape into her urethra. It was coming out, and for Wonder Woman it wouldn’t start with just a couple of spurts. Her bladder would push it all out in a huge rush. At last, her bladder could take no more. She felt her piss gush through her like water through a high–pressure hose, then her crotch and ass were surrounded by a liquid heat as she flooded her pants in a split second. The rush continued out, sliding down her legs like a storm tide. Her piss cascaded to the floor, sounding like a hard rain shower on impact. The puddle she was causing grew wider and wider, some of it seeping under the moving walls. Wonder Woman wiggled in vain until she was about half empty, then sighed with relief as she opened her legs and just finished. The piss ran out of her like wine from an upturned jug, and it was long minutes before she finally dried up. She took stock of herself. Her legs and ass glistened with the sheen of pee, while the crotch of her costumed was immediately riding up between her cheeks. She could feel wet fabric up to her waist, and the puddle had taken up all the floor that was left in the still shrinking room. A sudden anger gave her an extra spurt of strength, and with a growl she broke the walls apart and leaped through the ceiling. She found herself in Circe’s antechamber. The witch was laying on cushions in one corner of the opulently decorated hall. Wonder Woman began to stride purposefully toward her, but the woman jumped up and ran toward the hero, shouting, “I surrender! I surrender!” Wonder Woman crossed her arms and glared at Circe. “Oh, really?” Circe stopped right in front of the Amazon and looked her up and down, beaming. “I saw everything!” She exclaimed. “Oh, by Zeus it was beautiful! You’re beautiful!” Every now and then Circe’s gaze drifted to the dripping star–studded blue field of Wonder Woman’s crotch, and she sucked in breath through her grin. “So, I surrender, if only you’ll grant me one request!” Wonder Woman pondered the strange, eager look on Circe’s face. “What would that be?” Moments later, Wonder Woman was out of her soaked costume, laying on Circe’s cushions as the witch ate her pussy, the powerful muscles of which grabbed and grabbed at Circe’s tongue. The Amazon’s legs scissored around Circe’s head as she came closer and closer to orgasm. As she felt it coming, she also felt her bladder filling again, and just as she was lost in the spasms of ecstasy, she thought: This may turn out to be an even closer trap than that room. I’ll never make it home if she doesn’t have a bathroom…!
Fox
Remark from Ger: “Very nice written and I hope there’s a comic strip draughtsman among us who can draw this into a real comic strip ! We would post it without further thinking”