That woman was perfection in every sense of the word. Her body communicated strength, fertility, masculinity, and stamina in a way no other Amazon could. Many tongues were unrolled, dripping with desire, and Diane could hear the crossing of dozens, if not dozens of legs as she knew she was being coveted and admired by the hungry audience.
They too, after all, wanted a good spectacle. Nobody believed the princess would be punished, but everyone was sure she was going to do… something!… that would be well-worth their time and wait. It was well-known that Diane, aside from being a princess and a superhero, was a domineering Alpha female who collected lovers like certain species of birds collect pebbles for their nests: she was ravenous to the point of pathology! How many men and women had she consumed since she left the isles, many on the audience wondered, looking at one another and being sure that, oh, Diane had consumed them all.
They were not just mere members the Amazonian elite; those women were all of Diane’s past lovers, from summer romances to one-night flings, to routine booty-calls to side-pussies for when she was bored. Diane looked at them and smiled, remembering the fun time she had with each and every one of them, knowing they could never forget the potency of her fingers, the length and power of her tongue, the flexibility of her body, the ferociousness of her fists! No hole in those women had been unexplored by the craving Amazon, and there was an unspoken consensus that all of them wanted the princess to be set free so she could once again do to their bodies what no creature, human or god, could ever do after they met her.
Diane lifted her hands and tried to crack her knuckles, but the Lasso of Honesty, which bound her wrists, made the action very difficult. Still she flexed, making her biceps stretch the lasso to its limits, creating a loud noise that brought everyone’s attention to her and made all those warriors gulp and shiver.
The princess smiled. “That’s how you lik’a see me, huh?” She flexed again, this time making a wave of muscles rippling down from her chest to her hips. “All tied up for you?” The lasso was wrapped around her neck, her arms, her lower chest, her abs, and her legs. It was the only unbreakable object for the Amazon; no matter how much she tried, she would never free herself from her own weapon, but still she felt she could beat all those contenders in it—and with her eyes closed!
Diane looked down, feeling the pressure of the lasso on her swollen muscles. Her breasts were almost swallowing the knot over her belly; those two beautiful, bouncing orbs so big and hard they were almost tearing the woman’s costume apart.
Diane kept turning around, making sure all the beauties there could witness every inch of her over-developed body. “I’ve grown a great deal since I’d last been here.” The Amazon was all games and smiles, biting her lips as she flexed so liberally. “I’m taller, I’m thicker. Guess there ain’t one bimbo soul in these isles able to pin me down.” She flexed her guns again, and her biceps swelled to such outrageous proportions many Amazons covered their mouths, afraid she was actually going to tear the Lasso. “Oh, look! My babies are so big… and so hard!”
She flexed her biceps harder, putting the lasso under tremendous stress. Thick veins grew over the Amazon’s neck, which was also tied by the lasso, and she had to pause and struck a pose so that the energy flowed through her body uninterrupted.
Her ten-pack abs trembled, each muscle growing and bloating into an obscene, rigid mass. Every inch of the lasso was stressed and tearing up, with the loud, stretching noises only turning her on. Her thighs bloated into tree trunks of steel—legs as thick and muscular as a horse’s—and her ass hardened to such a degree many thought the swollen buttocks were going to slap against the woman’s spine! Her glutes were so hard and over-muscular that they were permanently perking up; when relaxed, they looked flexed, and when flexed like looked like growing, bloating beasts threatening to tear the fabric of whatever clothes she wore.
Gigi Potemkin 