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Going old-school for a story that you probably won't see for a while
🕑 Added 2015-07-27 21:05:28 +0000 UTC Dick couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t believe it. He’d known Donna was an Amazon, and even heard what the Amazons were like from reliable sources. Donna had actually warned him what becoming an Amazon, even an honorary Amazon, would be like. But actually experiencing it—seeing what sweet, innocent, sisterly Donna was capable of… He was more aroused than he could ever remember.Thank God for the toga—or Zeus, he supposed. Maybe even Hera. If he moved fast enough, the sway of the native clothing he’d worn in deference to Themyscira’s skilled seamstresses more than hid his erection. From the ceremonial standing stones, he hurried back to Paradise Island’s embassy—an intimidatingly beautiful building built for visitors from Man’s World, its interior almost mockingly insular. The exterior was much the same classical architecture as the rest of the island, not at all spoiling the skyline or view, but inside it was a cloistered, modern environment.
Dick felt as if he were traveling through time, stepping out from the balmy tropical weather to the air conditioned interior of carpeting, paneled walls, and office furniture. Even though the Amazons had spared no expense in recreating the environs of a plush hotel, it was still a bit idiosyncratic, gathering elements from glimpses of the outside world that the little-traveled Amazons had studied. A seating arrangement could’ve come from a McDonald’s, or windows done in the stained glass style of a Greek Orthodox church. It was all woven with a careful eye, though, even if it couldn’t compare to the neoclassical medium that the Amazons preferred their work in.
Though the embassy was spacious, it was sparsely populated. The Amazons had little contact with the outside world, usually on their terms, and the people who most used the embassy were invited guests who were there to learn the Amazons’ history and culture respectfully. When Dick came through the lobby, it was deserted but for a reformed foe of Wonder Woman’s—a Baroness of some sort—who was penitently manning the front desk. She buzzed him through without word, and he quickly preceded to his room on the first floor.
He threw open the door, intending a cold shower for himself. Somehow, it didn’t feel right masturbating on Paradise Island. Instead, he caught Barbara Gordon at the room’s desk, going over a scroll the Amazons must’ve lent her.
“Dick, hey!” She turned to look at him. “Donna called, said you might need some support after the trials. Think Batman can get by without either of us for a few days?” Then she saw his toga settle over his erection. It took her a moment to recover her voice. “So do you? Need support?”
“Desperately,” Dick said. He picked up the chair Barbara was sitting in and tipped it over so she was dropped onto the bed.
“Mmm, Boy Wonder!” Barbara growled, already wiggling out of her jeans. “Show me what an Amazon does with a redhead…”
