The first trial was done. Bruce felt he’d earned a breather.
Sinking back onto his bed, he quietly looked on as Artemis cleaned herself. A nice view to start the morning, watching the redhead wipe her body down with a damp washcloth. And what a body it was, firm muscle and full curves and flawless skin - all cast in a mouthwatering glisten.
Spent as he was, Bruce’s cock still managed to stir as he watched Artemis draw the washcloth over her breasts, under them, between them, wiping away the seed he’d painted them with. The wobble, the way the soft flesh gave against her hands, was especially pleasing to behold.
Bruce admired as long as he could, but before long Artemis was getting dressed. She fastened her garments back into place, white silk with a gold trim, and tidied her hair back into that high ponytail. But before she took her leave, Artemis gave Bruce one last look. It wasn’t scrutinizing like before, though it was far from warm. Her gaze was ever so faintly softer now. A look of acceptance. Though there was something else in there, too. A sharper sort of glint that reminded Bruce his work was far from over.
Then Artemis was through the door and out of sight. Not a single word shared between them since sunrise. Bruce didn’t take offense. Artemis didn’t strike him as the sort for pillow talk anyway.
Bruce closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax.
First trial done. Now what?
He mulled over that thought for time, resting on his back. Was it for an hour, or two, or was it for mere minutes? When Bruce opened his eyes again, the sun was still shining through the window.
He pulled himself out of bed. Cleaned himself. Got dressed. He wanted to see Diana.
The royal palace was too enormous for his quest to be a short trip. He wound up asking a couple of guardswomen for help. They were polite enough, if a bit curt, though Bruce couldn’t really blame them. Horror stories about men were the basis of their civilization. Which made Diana’s love even more of a miracle.
He found his princess sitting alone in an open terrace. A spectacular view it was, overlooking the sun-sparkling morning sea, but Diana was a vision all on her own. Black hair falling down her shoulders in waves, clad in sensual red silk down to her knees, silver bracers gleaming in the sun. She was sitting, one full thigh crossed over the other, sandaled feet tapping against the white marble floor.
Diana caught sight of him and smiled warmly - though the knowing look in her eyes stoked some guilt in Bruce’s gut.
“Bruce.” She rose from the carved bench, meeting him with open arms. Her lips pressed into his cheek. “Good morning. Did you have a good night’s rest?”
“You know I didn’t.” Bruce cleared his throat. He expected a pointed look, but Diana’s face flickered with amusement instead.
“Hm.” She looked him up and down, wearing a faint smirk. “You look like you handled it well enough.”
Her tone was one of teasing. Far from upset. In fact, she sounded pleased.
Bruce chewed his tongue for a moment, shifting on his feet. He drew in close again, taking Diana by her hands.
“Are the Trials… are they all just sex?” He finally asked.
Diana took in a small breath. Like she’d been expecting the question.
“Many are centered on testing one’s sexual prowess, yes. But not all. Not technically. Though each Amazon judge may enact their trial however they please. You’ll find out as you go.”
Bruce absorbed Diana’s answer. He didn’t mull over it, though. There’d be time to think and overthink later.
“Right. You’re really gonna put me through the wringer, huh?”
“The trials were not designed to be easy. Is something wrong?”
“No. Just… you seem so calm about this.”
Diana gave him a quizzical look. “Why wouldn’t I be? I know you’re going to succeed.”
“I mean about me sleeping with your sisters, Diana.” Bruce put back bluntly.
A new sort of shine came to her eyes now. A wholly different sort of amusement from before. Diana stepped back, lips pressing into a line like she was trying to stifle a laugh.
“You thought I would be jealous? Bruce, I love my sisters. And I love you. I want to start a family with you.” She set a hand on his chest, patting him gently. “I’ve wanted this for years. And I knew even back then where it would lead us.”
Yet another revelation for Bruce to drink in. Not that Diana gave him the chance. She came in for a kiss, a long, deep one. Down between his legs, Bruce’s cock was stirring again. Hard and aching even as Diana pulled back.
“I should know better than to doubt you.” Bruce huffed, his voice strained.
“Yes.” Diana gave a pleased hum. She caught his lips in another kiss. Smaller and softer. “You’ll learn eventually. I will ask you one favor, though.”
“Anything.”
Her smile grew and her blue eyes flashed with a tiny bit of deviousness.
“There are some on this island who still think I’ve made a mistake choosing you. Prove them wrong for me, love.”
Diana patted his groin. No doubt to make sure he didn’t miss her meaning.
All Bruce could do was nod.
- - -
Bruce passed the time. First was grabbing some breakfast in the feast hall. It turned out Amazons could whip up some pretty good eggs and bacon. He washed it down with fresh, rejuvenating water and went on his way.
He strolled his way through the palace grounds next, ignoring the stares he got from the other Amazons. Most had gotten used to his presence by now, but he was still getting those wary looks. Every so often he’d think of sending a friendly wave their way, but always refrained.
Perhaps that was a mistake. These were Diana’s sisters, weren’t they? If the trials went smoothly, they’d be his sisters, too. What harm could there be in being approachable?
And speaking of approachable…
There were two guardswomen coming up to him then, helmed and armed. They stopped short, leaving some space between them. Not timid, Amazons were never timid. Just… cautious.
“Your presence is needed in the sparring hall.” One of the guards told him.
Bruce took in a breath. “This is about the next trial, I take it?”
“It is.” The other guard answered.
Bruce glanced towards the sky, noting it was past noon. Hours since he passed the first trial. He could only wonder what they’d been preparing for him since then.
“Thought so.” He looked around for a moment, taking in his surroundings. The courtyard was beautiful, sporting a fountain and many lovely sculptures… but no maps. “I, uh… I don’t know the way.”
“We will escort you.” The guardswomen stood straighter then. They seemed… proud? With their helmets darkening their eyes, Bruce couldn’t quite tell.
The two parted to make room between them. Bruce took his cue and started on.
It was a long and quiet walk from there. The sparring hall was on the other side of the palace from the bed chambers, it seemed. They brought him to a set of open wooden doors, large and carved oaken things. Beyond them was the hall, a grand open space with pillars holding up a high circular ceiling. Between the pillars were windows set high up on the walls, letting in the warm rays of the afternoon sun.
At the far end of the room, a large, black pot rested upon a smoldering cooking stand, steaming. It stood alone.
“There’s no one here.” Bruce noted aloud.
“Your judge will arrive soon.” Answered one of the guards. The next moment they were marching off.
So Bruce waited. For several minutes, his only company was the sound of the bubbling pot - and whatever thoughts swam through his head.
Then came footsteps from out in the hall. A single set of sandaled feet moving at brisk pace.
A woman, of course. Tall and athletic and leggy in the way Amazons were. Dark-skinned, darker than Diana’s rich tan - though not near as dark as Nubia. Gorgeous, just like the rest of her sisters. Her dress came down to her thighs, dark blue silk splendidly loose about her body. The skirt swished to and fro against the width of her hips as she walked. Long black hair flowed down past her shoulders, voluminous, shiny, and silky smooth. Sensual, pouty lips, full and kissable. But those eyes - smoky and sharp amber pools piercing straight through him as she came gliding in.
She was no stranger. Bruce knew of Yara Flor, the Brazilian Wonder Girl. But this was the first time he’d met her in the flesh. And such lovely flesh.
Yara slowed as she drew close to the steaming pot, circling around Bruce’s back. She swept her gaze over him slowly, scrutinizing much the same way Artemis had.
“I didn’t believe it when I heard Diana was dating the Batman.” She finally spoke. Her voice was high, smooth, feminine, colored in an accent that only sweetened her words. The only thing better was watching those lips of hers at work. “Then there was the news that she wanted to start a family - make some more royals. And now she’s brought you here to take the trials.”
Bruce gave a shrug.
“Life happens fast.”
Yara hummed, noncommittal. She clicked her tongue. “I didn’t think you were her type.”
“Oh?”
“Dark and serious and brooding. And mortal.” She let the last word hang for a moment. “I just thought she’d go for a more… formidable type of guy. Stronger. Less squishy. With a killer smile. Like Superman.”
“I have my strengths.” Bruce said with simple but clear surety.
Yara looked at him for a long moment. Something flickered across her face. Disappointment he didn’t take the bait? Or something else?
She gave a shrug of her own.
“I guess you can’t be that squishy. Artemis didn’t break you.”
“She tried.”
“If she really tried, you’d be broken.” Her tone became sharper. Her eyes, too. “Remember where you are, Bat. Every woman on this island can benchpress your special bat car.”
“I believe you.” Bruce relaxed. And Yara softened some in turn. “I only meant to say she didn’t go easy on me. And neither will you, I suspect.”
That earned him a sharp smile.
“You suspect correctly. I see why Diana lauds your detective skills.”
Then Yara was moving again, gliding gracefully towards the steaming pot. She leaned in some, taking a small whiff. She let out a satisfied hum, grabbed a ladle, and began to stir.
Now his curiosity was piqued. Bruce stepped closer.
“So this next trial…”
“The Trial of the Heart.” Yara cut him off. She never took her eyes off the swirling cauldron. “A test to see if your love for Diana is indeed true.”
“I’ve never loved a woman more.” Bruce answered firmly.
“So you say.”
Bruce watched Yara stir in silence for a while more. Then she reached into her garment and pulled out a small pouch tied shut with a thin white rope. She untied it, reached in, and plucked out some small green leaves. She dropped them into the frothing pot. A low hiss rose from the bubbling concoction and a moment later the steam turned a soft, pale pink.
Yara took another small whiff. This time she sighed.
“Perfect.” She muttered softly.
Now she moved with purpose, going around the pot to the wall behind, where a small shelf rested. There she grabbed a small, painted goblet. Back at the cauldron, she ladled in a helping of the steaming mixture and set the goblet aside. Together, she and Bruce watched it steam in silence.
Bruce had questions. So many questions. But he waited for Yara to speak first.
“Amazon magic is ancient and strong. As are their potions.” She began, crossing her arms. There was appeal to be found, even in her standoffish pose. Bruce tried not to get distracted by the faint pursing of her lips. Instead, he endured her piercing gaze, reading him, dissecting him. There was another sort of shine in those eyes of hers, though. Something mischievous. When she spoke next, Bruce knew why.
“This brew will make you love me, Batman. Your mortal mind will be overcome with adoration for me… and your body will be overwhelmed with lust. So strong that you will not be able to deny yourself.” It was astonishing how plainly she said it. No guilt, no aversion, as simple as doing business.
Bruce frowned.
“And how will that prove my love for Diana?” He asked rather pointedly.
The mischievousness in Yara’s eyes poured into a smirk. God, those lips…
“Relax. There is an antidote.” Yara plucked a tiny vial from the folds of her blue gown. She set it down, right beside the still-steaming goblet. “You’ll take it when we’re done.”
“Done with what?”
Yara let out a scoff. “Please. Don’t play dumb.”
Bruce’s jaw tightened. So Diana hadn’t been exaggerating. Of course she hadn’t. Truth was practically her domain. Her sisters really were going to put him through the wringer.
“Fine. How does fucking you prove my love for Diana.” He clarified.
“As I told you, the potion is strong.” Yara gestured towards the cauldron as she began to circle it. Slow, deliberate strides. Bruce wondered if the swaying of her hips was deliberate, too. “You will be compelled to love me. And as you love me, the elixir will rush through your veins. Your pounding heart will spread it all through your body. A single evening of fun is all it takes for this potion to fully claim a man’s love…”
“...Unless it doesn’t.” Bruce finished slowly.
Yara nodded, smirking faintly.
“Now you’re catching on. Only the purest, truest love can survive the strength of this potion.” The goblet was now only barely steaming. Yara picked it up gingerly and offered it. “So drink, Bat. We’ll see how loyal your heart is after you’ve bedded me.”
“There aren’t any beds, though.” Bruce eyed the otherwise empty sparring hall as he took the warm cup.
“There are sparring mats.”
“Right.” Bruce glanced down at the contents swirling in his cup. Thicker than water, yet thinner than a shake or a smoothie. It looked pulpy, like juice or cider. And it was pink. The steam was faint now, almost invisible. The scent was still strong, that sweet aroma floating into his nostrils. Just a tiny sniff made his chest buzz with warmth. “No point wasting time.”
“Eager, are we?” Yara prodded him.
“I don’t back down from a challenge.” He shot back, bringing the cup up close to his mouth. He paused. “Oh, and Yara?”
“Yes?”
“You can just call me, Bruce.”
“Then drink, Bruce.”
Bruce drank. The warm, tangy mixture went down in two gulps. There was no point in half-assing it. The effect was near-instant, a strong heat blossoming in his gut, rising through his chest. Much more potent than what the scent had done to him. It was a pleasant heat, rising up to his cheeks now. His skin was tingling, going tight with goosebumps all down his neck and back and arms. And between his legs…
“Woah.” Bruce exhaled, keeping steady on his legs despite the stirring down there. He was already hard, swollen and aching beneath the cloth prison of his pants.
The sound of the wooden doors creaking shut drew his attention. There at the far end of the hall was Yara, setting upon the doors a wooden bar. He hadn’t even noticed she’d moved.
He was noticing her now, though. And he couldn’t look away.
Yara was gorgeous. It hadn’t been a secret before. He had working eyes and Yara, like all Amazons, wasn’t afraid to show off her magnificent body. Yet Bruce was taking her in with a new appreciation. No, it was more than that. It was adoration. The potion had done its job - or perhaps Bruce was just now starting to truly see. Yara was perfect. Everything about her was perfect. Her black hair shining like pure silk. Her thighs rippling so slightly as she walked. The way her hips swayed, like she was trying to put him in a trance. And her eyes, blazing amber ready to swallow him up. She was smirking as she walked up to him, those full lips begging to be kissed. Demanding it.
Bruce’s heart was pounding. His whole body was fire. Sweet, sweet fire.
“God…”
“Strong stuff.” The dusky Amazon chuckled. Such a splendid sound. How much more splendid it would be to hear it right up against his ear. “I’ve had some experience with love spells myself.”
“I… I can imagine.” Bruce took in a slow breath. Even her faint scent was driving him wild. “There isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t want to get you into bed.”
Yara intoned her agreement. “Legions of men. And some gods, too. But it was ugly business that last time. This will be more pleasing, I think. You think you can handle me, Bruce?”
“Yes. God, yes.” Bruce’s voice had become a growl.
Another sweet titter. Then came her voice, accented honey. “You sound so sure.”
“Amazons are becoming my specialty.” His legs carried him forward. Like his whole body had rocked awake.
Bruce swept upon Yara Flor. His hands found her waist, snatching her in close. She didn’t resist. She met him with fire. They crashed together in a blistering kiss. Her fingers dug into his hair, nails raking into his scalp, but sting was nothing compared to the bliss of her tongue against his. God, she was moaning into his mouth. Bruce’s whole body shook, all the way down to his bones, shaking with deep, primal joy at getting to taste the sweetness of Yara’s perfect, bee-stung lips.
He couldn’t get enough. He needed more. Bruce took and Yara took, battling for dominance. Yet the mortal man did not yield. He yanked at the Amazon’s dress, parting the front of the blue silk garment. He couldn’t see, but he could feel. He could feel those soft, perky tits sweeping out for his groping hands. He filled his palms and squeezed. The little yelp that poured from Yara’s throat was another little victory.
Yara’s retaliation was instant. Chewing on his lower lip, ripping his shirt open. Her hands swept over his bare chest.
She cursed in her Brazilian Portuguese, breathing hotly against his mouth. Tiny little nips between each muttering. Swipes of her tongue. Bruce grunted in response. Low and primal. He thumbed her nipples, making her whine, making her shudder against him.
Yes, that’s it. You’re mine.
He would do more than handle her. He would conquer her. It didn’t matter how strong she was. Amazon or not, that cunt was his. She was made for his cock. And his cock, hard and fat and aching, was made for her.
It was the truth. It felt like the truth. His whole body was howling that truth.
Yet even through the primitive, savage thoughts swirling through his mind, Bruce remembered his goal. The light was faint, a tiny little speck, but it shined all the same.
His chest pounded, his blood ran hot, and he mouthed Yara’s perfect, perky tits.
And still he remembered Diana’s loving smile.