Col. Steve Trevor was in a bad humor even although he had good news for his commanding officer. He had broken up a group that threatened a major National Monument. He learned of a plot to plant explosives in George Washington's image on Mt. Rushmore that would have turned the face of the Father of Our Country into that of an international terrorist. Steve had foiled the attempt, but only with Wonder Woman's help. And that was the source of his frustration -- Wonder Woman. Working with the sexy bitch was frustrating as hell. The way she swung her hips in those Lycra tights, flaunting those DD boobs gave him a perpetual hard-on. He had tried everything to get into those star-spangled pants without success. She always brushed him off with that condescending I'm-an-Amazonian-Princess-and-I-don't-need-sex attitude.

Steve was pretty sure Wonder Woman was no virgin; not in a physical sense, anyway, having been raped countless times by various androids, the tentacles, tendrils, and pseudopods of assorted trans- genetic life forms, and by machines especially constructed to orgasm the superheroine into sexual submission. He suspected she really got off on it, too, although she always pretended to be horrified at having been made to come. But for all the pleasure she had taken from substitutes and who know what kind of toys she uses in private, Steve suspected she had never been properly done by a real live human male penis.

How Steve longed to be the first, although he actually saw little hope of achieving it. Wonder Woman was far too strong for him to force her, and she was determined not to be seduced, because giving herself willingly to a man would destroy her super powers. As a loyal American, Steve did not, of course, wish to deprive his country of the services of the strongest, fastest, and sexiest superheroine in the universe. As a man however, he had the urge to fuck her silly and to hell with the damned super powers!

So it was a scowling Col. Trevor who walked into General Stillworth's office that morning. The General met him with a beatific smile. Steve brightened. The General must have heard about his (and Wonder Woman's) success and wanted to congratulate him. Wrong! The General had other things on his mind that morning. "Ah marriage!" the older man expanded. "You really don't know what you're missing, Steve, my boy. You ought to find yourself a good woman and settle down! There are plenty of little NCOs around and some of them are pretty frisky young animals, if you know what I mean." The General winked.

Where did that come from, Steve wondered. "I'm sure you're right sir. I guess I just haven't had much luck with the woman I've got my eye on."

"Luck has nothing do with it, son."

"What do you mean, sir?"

The General looked around conspiratorially "Check the lock on that door, my boy, and have a seat." Steve hurried to carry out the General's order.

"You may know that a while back Maggie and I were having some problems." Steve did know, and that had contributed to his puzzlement at the General's encomium to married bliss. In fact, the last time he had run into Margaret Stillworth, she had a big dopey grin on her face. Steve assumed she had found herself a strapping staff sergeant and was getting her lights fucked out.

"Oh it was the usual thing, really. Over the years old Maggie had just gotten less enthusiastic about sex. A shame! Why you should have seen her at University of Alabama -- hottest cheerleader on the squad and that was saying a lot. We won the Sugar Bowl the year I was senior quarterback, thanks to her. Every time the Notre Dame passer cocked his arm, Maggie lifted her skirt and flashed him her bare pussy. We got three interceptions that way. Trounced the Yankee bastards!" the general chuckled.

"When we were first married, all the little minx wanted to do was fuck. Damned near too much for me. But after Charles and Amanda came along Maggie started to slow down. Then last year when Amanda went into high school, Maggie decided she'd had enough of pills and jellies and she didn't trust me with a rubber. If I wanted sex, she said, I'd have to wait until near the end of her month when she was sure to be safe."

"No!" Steve exclaimed in mock horror, never missing an opportunity to butter up his superior. "A man like you, only having sex a few times a month? Impossible, General!"

"'Fraid so, my boy. Well, of course I couldn't go without my nooky, so I found myself a little corporal over in Quartermasters Corps. Build like a brick shithouse. Started screwing the daylights out of her. Wasn't a bad fuck," the General mused. 'But she has a face that would stop a clock, ' Steve was too intelligent to add aloud.

"I might have continued like that, but the bitch got airs. Wanted me to divorce Maggie and marry her. Imagine! And when I told her she was crazy, all I wanted to do was keep fucking her, maybe give her a little bundle of joy to remember me by, she got mad and sent Maggie an anonymous letter. Well, then Maggie got mad and cut me off completely, started threatening to divorce me herself. Fortunately, that's when the boys over in Military Intelligence came to my rescue."

"Military intelligence?" Steve asked.

"Don't make me repeat myself, boy. You think military intelligence is an oxymoron? If you didn't spend all your time with that crazy woman in the funny hot pants, you might learn something from your colleagues."

"Yes, sir," Steve replied, trying to placate the General. "So how did the staff of Military Intelligence help you?"

"Well, the boys had seen those stories in the Post about the raft of professional women who suddenly quit work and start making babies like there is no tomorrow. Struck them as a lit-tle funny. They looked into it and found all the women were patients of a certain Dr. Bock. The doctor has a clinic and after a husband or boyfriend sends his sweetie there, she comes back real nice. We made contact with him and appealed to his patriotic instincts. Sent him a couple of enemy agents to turn. Worked fine except he also knocked them up and ruined everything, although I believe the marriages of several men working on the case improved significantly, judging by the size of their wives' tummies," the General grinned.

"Well, when I heard about that Dr. Bock, you can bet I had Maggie hightail it over there. When she came back that evening, she hardly said anything; looked real out of it. I was worried and was ready to go beat the hell out of the bastard. I changed my mind, though, the next morning. I woke up with Maggie riding my dick and screaming out my name in the middle of one hell of an orgasm. I had to put my hand over her mouth to keep her from waking the kids. Well, when she came a few more times and I got her calmed down, she started bawling and saying that she was sorry she hadn't been fucking me more. I was a hell of a stud who deserved more sack time than she had been giving me and she understood why I had needed to take a mistress. She sobbed that she couldn't understand how she could have been so frigid, and that if I'd stop screwing that girl, she would to make sure I got all the sex I wanted at home."

"And damned if she hasn't tried. I'll tell you the woman's got hot! She begs me to bang her a couple of times every night and it's hard as hell to get her out of bed on weekend mornings. In addition, she's started dressing more like a woman. She started back to wearing high heels and those big loop earrings that she knows gives me a hard on. She's been working out to lose a few pounds and looks damned fine in her new mini- skirts and a lot finer out of them," the general ginned. "She threw away all those goddamned pantyhose and got herself some proper stockings. She's costing me a fortune in lingerie, but it's worth it!"

"Amazing," Steve said, sincerely this time.

"Damned right! I thought I had it as good as it gets until a couple of weeks ago when she topped everything. I came home one Friday to an empty house. Maggie had sent the kids to her mother's. She met me at the door in a little I- don't-know-what that showed off her tits and barely covered her pussy. Made me forget all about dinner. Said I could eat her. Amazing! I had been trying for years to get that woman to open her legs to my mouth. Well we barely made it upstairs and soon I was slurping away. She started making so much noise I thought the neighbors would complain. I got her off so many times I was partly drunk on pussy juice. Finally, she stopped me and said she wanted to ask me something. I was a little suspicious from all this buttering up, but told her to go ahead and ask. She blew my mind. "Honey, please. I think this is the right time. Would you make me pregnant tonight? I think a man like you deserves to have more babies."

"Well, I fucked her so hard that night and all the next day and all day Sunday that I damned near broke it off in her. I think Amanda was suspicious when she got back on Sunday night and saw the big silly grin on her mother's face. And hell if Maggie wasn't a good calendar watcher. Last night she met me at the door with a big smile and showed me one of those home pregnancy tests with a big pink plus sign on it. The woman is out of her mind, she's so happy. Made me fuck her doggie style last night 'to practice' for when she gets too big for me to 'go in the front door.'"

If he had not been a member of the Joint Chiefs, the expression on General Albert Stillworth's face would have to be called a shit- eating grin. Steve was so envious he couldn't speak. He wanted to kill the General. He had seen Margaret Stillworth wiggling her ass across the base the other day. What a babe she had become! The thought of this old bastard getting it on with such a sexy woman every night, much less her letting him make her pregnant again was almost too much. And he couldn't even get to first base with ... Wait! If Dr. Bock could turn Margaret Stillworth into a fucking machine, what couldn't he do with Wonder Woman?

Steve practically raced out of the General's office. He spent several hours planning all the details. Then he sent for Diana Prince. Now there was a sorry excuse for a woman! Her face wasn't bad, he had to admit, but those baggy clothes! That bun. Those shoes! Steve realized not everyone could look like Wonder Woman, but Diana hardly looked like a woman at all! Still, she was Wonder Woman's friend and could always get in touch with her somehow. Steve tried to smile when Diana entered.

"Thanks for coming Corporal Prince. I need to get a message to Wonder Woman."

"I'll try sir," the mousy woman replied.

"There's a new regulation that Wonder Woman must know about. From now on, all our agents, even informal ones like Wonder Woman, have to get annual physical checkups."

"You're saying Wonder Woman must be examined by a doctor?" Diana asked.

"Not me, Corporal, Reg. 12735, sec. 13 b)," Steve replied, trying to keep a straight face.

"I don't think she'll go for it, sir. It seems pretty foolish. There is obviously nothing wrong with Wonder Woman."

'You can say that again, ' Steve almost blurted out, but, trying not to roll his eyes, he replied, "It's an official regulation, Corporal. If she doesn't comply, it will be illegal for us to let her work for the government. I'm sure she doesn't want that."

"I guess not. But surely you can't expect Wonder Woman to just walk into a doctor's office and ask for an exam."

"Good thinking, Corporal Prince! No. I know Wonder Woman has some kind of secret identity. She can use it to go in disguise. Just give her this envelope. It has the name of a doctor and a code word. She can call him, tell him the code word, and he will give her the appointment without asking who she is. We've arranged everything."

Shaking her head, Diana left Steve's office. "Military Intelligence! What an oxymoron. Now maybe if they had women running the place..."

Three afternoons later, Wonder Woman, in the guise of Diana Prince, was sitting in the waiting room of the Bock Gynecological Clinic. She was surprised at the paucity of good reading material there, just silly magazines about sex and babies. She looked away in disgust. Several of the other women that were waiting seemed to feel the same way. One by one they were all called, each going in with a scowl. And one by one each emerged, utterly changed. They looked ecstatic, hardly coherent. Diana wondered if it was safe for them to drive.

At last Diana, too, was called. She was surprised by the nurse who introduced herself as Amaka and asked her to sit down. Amaka was a tall black woman, very beautiful, and very friendly. Soon Diana felt totally at ease. Amaka was asking her funny questions and Diana was answering them, but in a distracted way, hardly paying attention to what was going on. She didn't understand why the pretty woman wanted to know about how often she masturbated and how. She didn't like to admit to doing it, feeling it was a kind of weakness, not becoming an Amazonian Princess. But the nurse was so friendly; Diana felt she must tell her everything she wanted to know.

After the nurse heard that Diana usually had to get herself off three or four times a night before being able to get to sleep, she asked Diana to tell her about her masturbatory fantasies. Diana giggled. She hardly needed fantasies! Wonder Woman had enough memories of forced orgasms to last a lifetime. She shared a few of them with the nice nurse. This was turning out to be fun.

Amaka wanted to hear more about that big green plantamal. Diana enjoyed remembering it even though the creature had nearly done her in. The plantamal had not attacked her physically, just dropped around her let her smell its flowers. Apparently the fragrance was a kind of aphrodisiac because it made her so horny! She had just stopped fighting and let the creature hold her in its leaves because they were so soft and it had a tongue-like tendril in her mouth and another licking her ear. Something else was stroking her breasts and between her legs and just everywhere at once.

Amaka thought she would understand better if Diana showed her how the tendrils were rubbing her and making her feel so good. Diana liked that idea. Obligingly, she cupped one of her titties with her left hand and wormed the right hand under her tights. It felt just like when the plantamal slid a tentacle into her pussy and started moving it in and out, trying to make her come so it could plant its seed in her. Diana orgasmed as she told Amaka how she had been too smart for the tentacle and had squeezed it so hard with her cunt muscles when she came that it withdraw in pain.

Amaka laughed at Diana's story and said some more things. What? Really, it was hard to pay attention to the words of a woman who had such large beautiful breasts. Or was it the locket that was between her breasts. It kept flashing in her eyes. She was getting so drowsy.

"Go right ahead, dear. Close your eyes. A good come always makes a girl very sleepy. You can have a little nap before we continue." Amaka was standing in from of her now.

Just a little too late Wonder Woman realized what was happening to her. The woman was trying to hypnotize her. Her orgasmed mind felt foggy already. She had to fight back. "Hey, no," the sluggish superheroine started to protest as the mind-deadening words droned on.

Amaka couldn't understand why this Ms Prince, so easy to arouse, was succumbing so slowly. She had never seen a woman put up such stiff, if unconscious, resistance to hypnotic induction. Even getting her to masturbate hadn't quite done the trick. Amaka suspected Ms. Prince had received training in fighting off attempts at mind control, so she proceeded cautiously. With naive women or girls, hypnotism was like dropping a penny in a basin of water. The professional women she dealt with were tougher nuts; putting them to sleep was like soaking a piece of cardboard; Amaka had to press for a few minutes, but eventually they sank, too. Putting Ms. Prince under, however, was like trying to submerge an inflatable toy. Amaka had to bear down firmly over a long time until the woman's consciousness slowly seeped away. Apparently Amaka had just pressed a little too hard and tipped her subject to what was going on. Still, Ms Prince was probably too far gone to mount an effective resistance now. When a woman was in this state, Amaka knew how to take her farther.

"It's alright, honey. Don't fight me," Amaka cooed and herself cupped one of Diana's huge breasts. Even through layers of clothing it quickly firmed again. Stroking Diana's tits, Amaka continued to whisper endearments, telling her to relax and let herself go. Diana's "No, No" turned to soft sighs as she became more aroused.

Diana could have fought off the soporific words. She could have fended off the delicious way the pretty woman was feeling up her titties. But she could not combat both at the same time. If she concentrated on blocking out the words, Amaka's hands did wickedly wonderful things to her body. When she summoned the will power not to give in to those deft hands, the words insinuated themselves into her mind.

Fear only added to her excitement when she felt a small tingle start between her legs. It didn't remain small. It grew and spread into her belly and her thighs, to her breasts and back. It felt like liquid fire as it raced out to all of her extremities and re-converged on her brain. Diana's breath came in gulps. She heard a wail begin before she knew it was her own. The fire was everywhere. She felt all her muscles tense; her body arched. Then it hit. Massive! Irresistible! Mind-numbing! Nothing existed outside the fiery orgasm that convulsed her. It seemed to go on and on and when it released her, she was limp. The brightness cooled to red-orange ... then to embers that barely glowed ... then blackness.

Amaka looked with satisfaction and considerable relief at the entranced woman. When her own breathing returned to normal, she lay Diana down on the low examining table and began methodically to remove her clothes. Even under the bulky sweater and thick calf-length tweed skirt, Amaka could tell Diana was a well-built woman. Why did she hide it? The blouse followed the sweater to the floor and still there was some kind of body stocking under that. Gently, Amaka began to tug it loose.

Bloody hell! Under the body stocking was an outlandish red and white Lycra top covering a truly mammoth set of jugs. As Amaka pulled away more and more of the body stocking, the pattern became recognizable. Damn weird! Under her clothes, this Ms. Prince was dressed like...