Remember: your name is not Sue. You are not Sue. Your name is Diana, and men not only know but fear you under the name Superwoman. You are a rogue Amazon from Earth-3, an evil version of Wonder Woman from a parallel dimension. You are not plain, and you don’t have a shit job. You are beautiful, perfectly fit, and your job is creating mayhem. Nothing terrible has ever happened to you. You are the terrible thing that happens to others.

This isn’t your boyfriend Kurt who’s tied up on the bed. And if it was, you could tell him that you love him, because you’re not a pussy who’d live with a guy for months without being able to speak the truth that you both already know, even though he’s spoken it to you numerous times. That’s Superman, bound harmlessly by your magic lasso which is definitely not just a normal cotton rope you dyed yellow. He’s a hero, a goody-goody who’s interfered with your plans too many times, and now you want to punish him.

“Remember,” you tell Kurt. “The safeword is ‘Mxyzptlk.’” “Right,” Kurt says. “Mixilplik.” “No,” you tell him. “Mxyzptlk.” “That’s what I said.” He can never pronounce it right.

“Fine.” You sigh. “The safeword is Mixilplik, then.”

You look down at Superman, lying helpless before you. You don’t like his attitude, his holier-than-thou nonsense, but you’ve always liked his body. You’ve wanted him like this since the first time you saw him. Now he’s yours to do with as you please.

You climb onto the bed, running your hands up the length of his red, calf-high boots, then caress his muscular thigh. He flinches.

“Give it up, Superwoman!” he says. “You may have me now, but Batman and the others are coming for me. Batman is awesome; he prepares for every situation, and outsmarts everybody!”

You roll your eyes at his words, reminding yourself that this is Superman before you, not your boyfriend who has a weird Batman fixation.

Boyfriend. You’ve barely ever called him that, even though that’s what he’s been for quite a while.

You shake it off, and give an evil laugh. “Nobody is coming for you, Superman!” You tell him. “Nobody except for me; I’ll be coming for you. I’ll be coming for you all night long.”

Superman’s eyes widen as your words sink in, and he realizes that this isn’t a normal get-captured-and-listen-to-evil-plans scenario. He realizes what this is.

Your hand continues up his blue-clad thigh, caressing the bulge underneath the red super-briefs he wears over his tights. He struggles, but your magic lasso has rendered him helpless. Your hand lingers a bit on his briefs. You can feel his cock through the fabric, and you know that any time you like, you can pull that barrier away and feel his naked flesh.

You feel something inside you relax, and little tingles of arousal start to build up in your loins. You have the power here; you’re in control....

The Safeword Is "Miksilplik!"