Wonder Woman stood proudly at the head of a mighty army of Avenging Amazons. Now was the time that the vile Ares would pay for his countless crimes against her sisters. Now he and vile hordes would experience the full wrath of warriors, they would be turn asunder. She strode forward in complete confidence, confidence both in their numbers, power, skill and authority. She hoisted her battle shield high, and her sword higher, and prepared to strike with vengeance and fury...
The dreamscape changed, Wonder Woman oblivious to the passage of time in a twisted world of her own desire but far beyond her own influence. Still the Amazons advanced, but their situation had changed. Now their armour had disappeared, and they prepared to fight as the Amazons of old, bare-breasted, and clad in short leather skirts. Their helmets had disappeared also, and now warrior braids were in evidence rather than protective steel. But still they bore their swords and shields with purpose and capability, their skills still demanding a quick resolution...
Still they advanced, but the situation had changed again. No longer did they move with the fluid grace of capable warriors, or the drive of purposeful soldiers knowing they were going about their business. And now their clothing had become ever scantier - still bare-breasted, their skirts far shorter and flimsier, riding upwards with each uncertain step to better demonstrate they wore no underwear. Their hair now hung loose, bouncing around mischievously in time with breasts that seemed to have gained a couple of cup sizes. Their shields had disappeared, but still they brandished their swords, but in awkward manners that suggested their skill at arms was drastically reduced...
Now they were stationary, steely eyes and purposeful gait replaced by confusion and uncertainty. Their bodies had clearly changed now; muscles replaced by softer feminine curves. Ever-more-swollen breasts wobbled continually, despite their bodies standing still. But their arms quivered constantly, straining to hold aloft swords that were far too much for them. And those swords had changed too - now cheap plastic replicas that no child would accept as the real thing. And Wonder Woman still urged them forward, with a body even more ludicrous than her charges, clad only in tiny star-spangled bikini briefs that concealed precisely nothing...
And now their opponents hoved into view - muscular demons armed to the teeth with a variety of cruel weopons strapped to their torsos. The amazons craned their necks upwards lo look at their faces, shocked to see laughter at the feeble challenge the Amazon army posed. They stepped back uncertainly, for the first time realising how overpowered they were, gasping in shock as they wondered how on earth they could win this battle. Toy 'swords' had now been replaced with huge dildos. Wonder Woman looked round at her sisters, pitiable bimbos struggling to stand under the weight of their own inflated breasts, clad only in comedy skirts that rested uselessly high on their hips, brandishing only sex toys. And she looked at herself, with the largest udders of them all, her own vibrating dildo grasped firmly in hand. Her courage failed her, and her tiny briefs grew dark as she wet herself in terror. And the Amazons saw the courage of their captain and followed her example, the battlefield sodden with amazon shame...
They tried to run, terrified little girls outclassed by far stronger opponents. But they moved far too slowly and clumsily, easily grabbed by their opponents who snatched their dildos from their hands and rammed them into their unprotected pussies. They whimpered pathetically as they were easily shoved to the ground, and they proceeded to be ass-raped. And Wonder Woman whimpered louder than anyone as she faced up to the mighty Ares, her head barely reaching his navel - and he grabbed the back of her head and forced her shocked mouth onto his 15'' swollen cock...
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Wonder Woman was back in school, she and her Amazon sisters obediently sitting in class attentively listening to the wisdom their beloved teacher Ares. They sat at school desks, hair in ribboned pig tails, less-than-opaque blouses straining impossibly over swollen titties, skirts gathered around their tiny waists, and tiny panties absent-mindedly dropped around their ankles. But he was displeased with her! She needed to be punished! She wobbled forward obediently, dropping herself over his knee. With one hand he tore open her straining blouse, freely fondling her nubile teats, while with the other he proceeded to give her a well-deserved spanking. And she creamed herself in simultaneous joy and shame...
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Wonder Woman was giving a gymnastics display, an athletic floor display designed to demonstrate her agility and poise. She wore a star-spangled leotard that bisected her perfect ass like cheesewire and showed off her swollen nipples like braille. She started off with a handspring, hurling herself forward onto outstretched arms. But her costume tore herself apart as her huge breasts tore themselves free, dropped like stones onto herself and knocked herself clean out.
She came round to find herself flat on her back on a mattress in a side room, her coach Ares berating her for her shameful display, telling her she had humiliated him and she was going to make it up to him. And his hand slid inside the tattered remnants of her costume, brutally toying with her flower before driving his powerful fist deep into her pussy...
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Wonder Woman was addressing a crowd of impressionable girls about what it meant to be a Superheroine, proudly telling them about her authority and virtue. She would never let any man get the better of her! They should follow her example and focus on their careers and protecting their virtue. But they were laughing at her! Why...
She was 9 months pregnant! Her shorts were round her knees, unable to strain over her swollen hips, her bustier unclasped underneath her freely lactating breasts...
She jumped upwards in shame, and her waters broke...
And Ares her helpful 'midwife' was all too happy to resist...
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Wonder Woman was having her costume remodelled, to better demonstrate her true purpose. Her tiara was replaced was a choke collar with the emblem 'Slut' at her throat. Her 'boots' were still red, but now stilletto heels in which she could barely hold herself upright. Her shorts were now the skimpiest of g-strings, smaller than her venus mound and supported by straps so slender she could floss with them. Her bustier was shrunk down from half-cup to 1/16th cup, enhanced breasts neatly resting on top in full display. Her belt had been replaced with one without any advantages, but a narrower and longer version that left a handy tail ready to whip her naked derriere. Her connection with her lariat had been removed, instead adjusted so that the only human who could no longer control it was herself. It was wrapped tightly around her arms, pinning them behind her back and thrusting her chest forward ludicrously. And its two ends disappeared into her anus and vagina, swelled, and vibrated furiously...
And Ares arrived to see exactly what sort of fight she would now offer...
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Sordid dream after dream shot through her mind as she sank deeper into helpless despair. She found herself nude, rising up a tunnel of light to an uncertain but glorious future...
But it changed. Suddenly she was falling into an impossibly long and dark pit, into a place from which she knew there was no escape. And Ares waited for her, catching her neatly and holding her completely helpless in his arms. She struck him, agonisingly shattering her wrist while he remained completely unfazed. She whimpered in terror, unable to loosen his grasp one iota. And he casually adjusted her onto his mighty spear, and forced her so deep onto it that she feared it would reach her tonsils...
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And deep within herself, she knew her future...
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