Chapter 1: Introduction
A battle-weary Amazonian warrior princess rested on her balcony, hidden amongst the tall, gleaming buildings of modern-day man. Her balcony was adorned with the vibrant colors of exotic flowers. Green ivy clung to terracotta pots and wound its way along the railing. Somewhere, a bird trilled, delighted to have found a home amongst the chaos of the big city.
Diana watched it out of the corner of her eye, still half focused on the sweeping view of the city below, bathed in the last orange and pink tones of the sunset.
Wrapping her fingers around a heavy cut-crystal tumbler, she welcomed the sensation as the amber liquid within swirled, releasing its earthy aroma. She inhaled deeply and brought the glass to her lips. The taste of smoke and peat danced across her tongue as she savored her first sip.
The scotch was a guilty pleasure she'd developed while trying to fit in with those who made this city their home. Diana didn't need a disguise, but the human alias of Diana Prince allowed her to walk among the people she protected without raising suspicion. It also meant she could indulge in a simple pleasure like drinking scotch and smoking cigars without fear of being judged.
She leaned back in her chair, her fingers toying with the edge of the cigar box. She had discovered this passion only a few months ago, during a mission involving an arms dealer.
She'd trailed him into an exclusive cigar lounge, a dimly lit space where men in suits spoke in hushed tones while languid smoke curled around their heads. Curiosity had piqued her interest, and she had tried one, enjoying the subtly bitter taste and the smooth room-note that filled the air. It had since become part of her evening ritual.
Taking the cigar between her fingers, she rolled it gently, feeling the dense tobacco leaf with appreciation.
Satisfied, she sliced off the cap, exposing the foot. With a flick of her wrist, she ignited a match and was soon breathing in the plumes of thick smoke. Purposefully, she held the smoke in her lungs, tasting it fully before exhaling.
The sun had made its final descent, and darkness had arrived with the soothing blanket of twilight. The city lights flickered on, turning the metropolis into a bewitching sea of twinkling jewels.
Diana took a sip of her drink, savoring the warmth and the familiar sensation that tingled down her throat.
As she savored this moment of tranquility, her phone on the table began to buzz. Ever since she had started taking private missions, she couldn't seem to find a moment's peace. But she considered these missions her way to learn more about human nature, especially when it came to solving problems that did not require her Amazonian strength.
She glanced at the screen but chose to ignore the call.
It could wait until tomorrow; she deserved a break. This realization struck her as an oddly profound thought, as if it were a melody just outside her grasp.
Diana leaned further back in her chair, feeling the soft cushion against her arms, an indulgent comfort, just like the scotch warming her chest or the cigar's invigorating smoke now swirling to join the night air around her.
As Diana surveyed the city that lay before her, a patchwork of lights, glass, and steel, she pulled out the tie clip she always wore.
It was a gift from her mother, Queen Hippolyta, in the form of the ancient Amazonian symbol of protection. It held the cigar to her lips just as she took another drag.
Her thoughts wandered as they often did, considering how many people would love to see something so phallic at her lips. The amusement she felt then was quite distinct. She envisioned some of her enemies, specifically those who had fallen victim to her lasso of truth.
She recalled the faces of the powerful men brought to their knees, desperate to answer her questions, exposed and vulnerable. The irony was palpable—those who believed they held the key to power in their manhood had been undone by a simple circle of rope, while Diana found enjoyment in an object that resembled their male pride.
She exhaled with a bemused smile, her laughter carried away by the wind.
The hidden depths of her amusement and the flash of her dazzling smile never failed to make waves in the people she encountered—and temporarily forgot—her stunning looks and powerful presence.
Diana's captivating beauty was of another time—the ethereal grace of an Olympic goddess fused with the unnerving confidence of a fierce warrior. Her features were striking: piercing blue eyes, striking cheekbones, a strong jawline, and cascading, dark hair, which held a soft curl that glowed in the warm, ambient light.
Her smile had the power to render anyone momentarily incapacitated, and her eyes sparkled with a playful brilliance.
Yet, it was her Wonder Woman suit that she cherished the most—a modern adaptation of the traditional Amazonian battle attire. Adorned with the iconic symbol of justice, it protected her from bullets; the enchanted fabric made her almost invulnerable to any direct, physical threat.
Wrapped around her thighs, a gold lasso—an enchanted tool that compelled anyone ensnared to tell the truth.
But tonight, she was not Wonder Woman. She was Diana Prince, contemplating the subtle flavors and textures that satisfied her senses and fed her insatiable curiosity for human culture.
Diana took another drag of her cigar, swirled the whiskey in her glass, and leaned back in her chair. She surveyed her surroundings with genuine pleasure—her veritable sanctuary concealed amongst the city's vertical forest.
Her eyes lingered over the potted plants, palms, ferns, and orchids that softened the hard lines of her urban hideaway. The blend of nature and ambient lighting created an environment that could soothe even the most anxious minds.
She reveled in her fortress's oasis-like atmosphere, a world away from violence and the dangers that came with her role as protector of humanity. It was a space where she could explore her curiosity for human foibles, peeling back their layers to reveal their secrets and guiding them towards the light.
Diana's eyes half-closed as she savored the many pleasures available to her. The air was perfumed with the heady fragrance of her cigar, which nestled between two fingers, and the pungent aroma of single malt whiskey in her glass.
Suddenly, her isolation was interrupted by a familiar voice, cutting through the peace like a knife.
"You know, I always wondered how you would look when you think no one's watching," said Barbara Minerva, an archaeologist and friend of Diana, who'd unexpectedly joined her on her balcony.
Diana's chair scraped softly against the stone as she turned to face her friend. Barbara had a mischievous smile on her face, and the golden light from the room cast a warm glow around her. Her crimson hair glistened in the dimness, and her eyes were alive with curiosity, a captivating mirror to her fiery spirit.
Diana took a drag of the cigar and regarded Barbara, "Even a superheroine is allowed to enjoy a few vices." She exhaled the smoke and took a sip of her scotch.
Barbara raised an eyebrow and stepped closer, her attention lingering on the glass in Diana's hand. "I had no idea," she confessed, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I suppose we all have our secrets."
A slow, mysterious smile tugged at the edges of Diana's lips. "We certainly do," she agreed, taking another drag of her cigar and savoring the taste.
Diana's gaze shifted to Barbara, who was now examining her with renewed interest. It was in moments like these that the delicate layers of their relationship were unveiled.
Barbara left, realizing Diana was wanting enjoy a night to herself.
She walked back into the living room, leaving the French doors ajar and giving Diana a clear view of the interior. The warm, ambient light from the room illuminated her path as she crossed the luxurious space, still wrapped in a soft, silky robe.
As Barbara picked up her coat, her eyes met Diana's for a brief moment. Their connection, already so strong, seemed to tighten with a mysterious energy that was impossible to ignore.
Barbara left, closing the door softly behind her.
Diana sighed with relief, taking one final drag of her cigar before releasing a cloud of white smoke into the air. The moment had been interrupted, but it was still a delightful reprieve from her usual routine.
Diana savored the final tastes of her cigar, letting it rest between her fingers while she swirled the scotch once more. The silence that followed Barbara's exit was comforting, and she allowed her mind to drift back to her memories.
Being an Amazonian princess raised by a queen of unmatched wisdom meant that there were many life lessons to be learned. But it was Diana's time as an ambassador for the island of Themyscira that truly honed her desires for human connection.
Her mind wandered to when she was finally old enough to attend the Harvest Festival Orgy, a night when the Amazons let their passions out, embracing the power of their sensuality as a form of worship.
These gatherings were integral to the culture of the Amazons—an opportunity to connect with each other, celebrate their bodies, and indulge in the primal and intimate pleasures of human connection.
As a result, the young princess had developed a deep appreciation for the raw, carnal energy that courses through living beings.
Despite her stoic and regal demeanor, Diana harbored a fierce hunger for affection and intimacy.
In her heart, she revered the rite of passage the Harvest Festival Orgy offered—an uninhibited exchange of love that transcended boundaries, binding them together in the most profound ways.
Returning to the present moment, she took another sip of scotch, her thoughts rippling with desire. Memories of Themyscira resurfaced, lingering in her mind like wisps of sweet incense. Her cheeks flushed with heat, and her body stirred with a yearning that echoed through her veins.
She remembered eagerly licking at each Amazon who presented their womanhood to her—their bodies glistening with sweat, the taste of each unique and intoxicating in their own right. They were powerful, they were loving, and they were open.
As the wind picked up, Diana's breath caught in her throat as the memories consumed her.
That night ended with her in bed with four other Amazons, including her mother, the alluring Queen Hippolyta.
After the tantalizing Harvest Festival, Diana's world had been irrevocably transformed. No matter how many times she recounted the events leading to the apex of the gathering, she could never quite articulate the intensity of that night.
It had started innocently enough—sipping ambrosia, sharing stories, and celebrating the fruits of their labor. Yet, as the moon reached its zenith, the atmosphere had electrified, and her sisters' eyes shone with an intense hunger for more.
With a graceful nod from her mother, the queen, the games had begun. The group moved as one, bodies weaving in and out, their motions intertwined like an intricate dance.
As they reached a peak of passion, Diana's lips found their way to the body of one beautiful Amazon, then another, licking and savoring the taste of each.
Until she reached the most gorgeous one of all—her own mother, Queen Hippolyta. A woman whose beauty surpassed time and space, she was revered and admired by all on the island.
In this moment, Diana allowed herself to lose control and become completely immersed in the sensations that surrounded her. She tasted the divine nectar of her mother's body, an experience that transcended the ordinary and ventured into the realm of the sacred.
As mother and daughter looked into each other's eyes, their connection deepened, their love echoing with each tender stroke. Diana knew she had never felt this close to anyone, not even in her most intimate moments with Steve Trevor.
What had started as a shared glance with her mother had blossomed into a shared intimacy that crossed all boundaries.
But as they were lost in that moment, the princess and queen were then lovingly ravaged by the other three women who had surrounded them in their sacred bonding.
As if possessed by a force beyond their control, the three Amazons descended upon them, showering Diana and Hippolyta with affection and passion.
Their movements synchronized, the three worshippers explored Diana and Hippolyta with an unrestrained fervor, expertly teasing and caressing the pair's already sensitive skin.
Intrigued by the new arrivals, Diana welcomed the intensity of their desire, recognizing that she too had longed to experience this connection with all her sisters.
As the memories of that night filled her with joy, Diana took one last drag of her cigar, putting it out and finished her glass of scotch.
With a gentle stretch, she prepared her body for the release it so desperately craved. A lingering sensation of satisfaction radiated from her core—a reminder of how complete and whole she felt in that singular moment.
Her fingertips tingled with anticipation as she crossed the threshold into her luxurious bathroom, where the smell of vanilla and cedar lingered in the steam-filled air. The sound of water falling from the rainfall showerhead filled the room, soothing her mind.
A single step brought her closer to the large, marble vanity, now bathed in the soft, golden glow of vintage Edison bulbs.