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I spent a long time away from Themyscira. Long enough that when I got back, I was so happy to return that I almost could forget how angry my mother would be for abandoning her. For defying her. For taking the sacred artifacts of the Amazons to use on my quest. But I didn’t quite forget. I knew, no matter how happy Hippolyta was to see me, that I would have to be punished.

Despite all my years and victories in Man’s World, I was quaking when Hippolyta swung me over her lap, as if I were a naughty child and not a seasoned warrior. As the pteryges that formed my skirt were drawn away from my bare thighs and blue panties, I closed my eyes and braced myself for the pain. I had endured much worse, after all—I should be able to shut out the meager hurt of being spanked.

But there was just no way I could ignore the snickers and giggles and titters and smirks of my sisters in attendance. I had been in the assembly when my mother, the queen, disciplined other Amazons for their wrongdoings. But the crowd was twice that to watch the princess take her medicine. They were all just dying to see me proven to be no better—or perhaps just to see my bare bottom and how my face would look in chastised pain.

Then came the complete indignity of having my panties slowly stripped down my thighs. There is no way for me to adequately describe the humiliation of being completely bared before an audience, knowing that my punishment hadn’t even properly started yet. I wanted to sink into the earth. I wanted Hippolyta to just get it over with. Anything but bending over her knee with my buttocks sticking up obscenely, as if meant for my comrades’ inspection more than my own punishment. I tried as hard as I could to hold still, but I found myself clenching my cheeks shamefully in anticipation of that punishment.

And then it happened. My perfect body—which no man would dare touch, which only the greatest of enemies could even lay a finger on—was slapped on its tender, bare bottom. 

My mother’s hand felt as if it had been fired from a cannon as it whistled through the air and crashed against my precious backside, completely flattening my buttocks with a deafening strike! I cried out, and had to stop myself before I kicked my boots off in my flailing. Though I got myself under control, there was a long, humiliating interval of yanking and jerking my burning bottom frantically around on Hippolyta’s lap. I knew the other girls ate up seeing my ass flushed and squirming about.

Only when I had recovered what I could of my dignity did Hippolyta resume. My full, womanly buttocks received a girl’s treatment, burning and prickling and smoldering with a blistered heat that made each fresh smack a bracing pain. I cried salty tears that ran all the way down to drip off my chin. And through it all, the Amazon nation smirked and giggled and enjoyed themselves like a gaggle of schoolgirls.

When it was over, my poor ass was a bed of hot coals. I was breathless, sobbing hard with pitchings of my throat and quiet tears streaming down my face. Hippolyta did not even return my panties to me, but kept them.

“Let this be a reminder to you,” she said, “that you must always obey your queen.”

And the wind on my bare bottom, even through my skirt, added a burning note to my disgrace. 

I had come seven times. It was good to be home.

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When Jubilee stepped into the shower with him, Tim was so nervous he just about couldn’t find it sexy at all. He wasn’t Dick; showers were a private, private affair with him. He doubted Jubilee watching him soap his balls would strike her as sexy. So he mostly just tried to steer clear of her, soaping his arms over and over again while she stood under the showerhead and looked like a goddess with the water rippling down her lean body. She was only a little shorter than him, so with her face upturned to let the water run over it, she looked like she was craning her neck for a kiss.

“Soap my back, huh jailbait?” Jubilee asked, wiggling her hips at him.

“Sure,” Tim said, stiffly lathering up his hands.

He rubbed the suds into Jubilee’s silky soft skin. Despite the dangerous occupation, she didn’t seem to have a scar on her whole gorgeous body. And despite his reservations, Tim remembered how much he loved to touch her. He didn’t just wash her back, but moved down to her cute round ass, then moved his arms around her to lather her ripe tits. He was careful to keep his arms abreast of her, not wrapping around Jubilee, but she leaned back against him as if he were spooning her.

“Mmmmmm, that feels good,” she sighed.

Tim’s limp cock was pressed against her bare ass, almost saddled between the cheeks of it, a mischievous tickling sensation that darted up forbiddenly into her. Impulsively Jubilee bent over, thrusting her slippery ass into him. She could feel the slightest rise of his dick as it got harder and harder.

Tim’s hands moved much more eagerly as he soaped and squeezed her breasts, leaving frothy bubbles dotting her cleavage like strands of pearls before moving down to her flat belly, then the sparse undergrowth of her bush.

“You like ‘em nice and clean, don’t ya?” Jubilee murmured.

“I just try to do thorough work,” Tim said, slipping his hand down to the juncture of her thighs.

Jubilee was hotly excited as his soap-slick hand rubbed at her pussy, halfway between groping her and actually washing her, reserved and professional in the kind of teasing foreplay that she loved. Through the pretense of the slippery suds, she could feel his callused fingers tickling her cunt, her plump labia, the mouth of her passage with delicious mischief. He greased one fingertip into her snug little tunnel, twisting and pumping into her.

“You’re even a nerd about fucking me!” Jubilee gasped.

“I would never slack off on the job,” Tim said solemnly.

That wicked finger felt so good in her tight little pussy that Jubilee was already clenching around it, moaning musically in the acoustic shower, daring Tim to do something wild and crazy like fuck her against the glass door, squashing her boobs flat against it like she was visiting someone in prison.

But after just a few tantalizing strokes of his finger, he stopped. He took the showerhead down from its mount and hosed her off as Jubilee pouted, hands on her hips, barely noticing as he rinsed her face off too.

“C’mon,” Tim said, switching the dial off. “We’re wasting water. I’ll dry you off.”

An idea struck Jubilee. “And how thorough do you intend to be?”

Before she knew it, Tim had thrown a fluffy white towel around her midriff. Its softness touching her mound, even without Tim’s hand behind it, sent a jagged spur of lust into her.

“You didn’t let me wash you,” Jubilee said, only half disappointed.

“I’m not done sweating,” Tim told her.