Wonder Woman vs the Joker:  A Tribute

- By Violator

Author's Note – I first happened upon Mr. X’s site in the late 90s.  There was a particular sequence of colored drawings that strongly affected me – images of a certain heroine struggling and being tormented by a certain villain while he sat on giant alphabet blocks.  Those images, more than any other single sequence, are what initially got me hooked on this fetish genre.  Said images, along with many others, long since got scrubbed from Mr. X’s site due to various mostly legal reasons.  But due to their role in my personal history with this place I decided to write a tribute story based on them.

That said, this one grew in the telling so I’m releasing it in several parts; and it will take a couple of chapters before we get to the above-mentioned sequence.  However, regardless of whether you have any idea what I am talking about I hope you enjoy reading.  Please send any feedback to violatoremail@protonmail.com.

Hit END for a short summary. 

PART ONE - FOREPLAY

Wonder Woman soared through the night in her invisible jet.  The star-lit sky glittered all around her, while the shining skyscrapers of sinister Gotham began to slowly grow upwards from the horizon.  Though the blackness whistled by all around her, her star-spangled bottom raced through the sky in perfect luxury, seated upon soft invisible leather.

Then, interrupting her cosmic serenity, an annoying beep suddenly began to come from her communication screen.  She glanced down at it, and raised a regal eyebrow.

“Well, well, well…” Diana said, seeing the caller name flashing on her screen.

She was not all that surprised he had gotten her number.  Though he was but a mere mortal wimp, his talent for chaos, for worming his way into places he shouldn’t be, was by this point legendary.  But neither was she the slightest bit concerned.  No matter his tricks, she was quite confident her goddess-like power would be more than a match for his merely mortal prowess.

Reaching out, she accepted the call.  

“Hello, Joker,” she cooed.  

A moment later the twisted villain’s face appeared upon a glowing screen just to the left of her translucent steering column.  

“Hello, Wonder Slut,” he cackled.  His warped lips stretched into a grin upon his bony white face.  “Do you know what I just heard?  Why, a little birdy told me your big bad ass is coming to see little old me," he cooed.

Wonder Woman lifted her head high, her sable hair immaculate within the sealed cockpit, and glared down at him as if her mere goddess-like gaze could kill.  

“You brought it upon yourself,” she told him, frostily.  “You should have known that releasing those filthy images would bring down my wrath, sooner or later!”

The Joker plus social media had turned out to be a match made in hell.  Some time ago the Joker had used some of his ill-gotten criminal gains to hire starving artists in various impoverished overseas countries, and set them to work producing images for him.  Vile, filthy, perverse images of himself, standing in highly sexualized triumph over various heroines… usually with a gorily dispatched hero or two lying ignominiously in the background for good measure.  He had begun to barrage these onto various media accounts, usually accompanied by a little of his trademark mocking commentary.  Only when Wonder Woman had stormed into the offices of one tech company and personally forced them to shut down his account had they finally done so– but ten had promptly sprung up in its place. 

Naturally enough, being male, the Joker had been unable to resist having himself depicted with an impossibly and inhumanly exaggerated phallus.  One memorable image had shown him standing with the shredded corpses of nearly the entire Justice League around him.  At his feet Supergirl had knelt to one side, Power Girl to the other.  Halfway through the process of peeling out of their costumes, both blonde beauties had been caught lapping their tongues delicately up and down the eighteen-inch pure-white monster extending down out of Joker’s fly – as if demonstrating how it was they had avoided the same fate as their men.

Such excessive images were easy enough to dismiss.  But over time his artists seemed to gain skill, as some others were more disturbingly plausible.  One shot, near-perfect in its photo-realism, had depicted the wrecked ruin of Lady Blackhawk sprawled across a pile of garbage.  Stripped naked save for her boots and her trademark cap, she wore a blitzed expression upon her face, and had a waterfall of pearly slime pouring out of her gaping pussy.  So flawless was the image, when she had first seen it, only the impossibly giant bone-white penis posed before Lady Blackhawk in the frame, a few tendrils of triumphant cum still connecting its tip to her lips, had finally allowed Diana Prince, squirming and staring down at her tablet in shock, to assure herself it could not possibly be real.  Something Lady Blackhawk herself had confirmed several days later, when they had finally managed to meet up for lunch.  Although the emotional exhaustion of the whole ordeal had affected her so deeply that she had seemed quite flush and flustered the entire time, and had ended up taking a leave of absence from her super-heroinely duties, lasting just a little over nine months, shortly thereafter.

But other images of other heroines had followed.  Disturbingly, Joker’s artists seemed to learn to depict each target quite quickly, for almost like clockwork a crudely crafted and bombastically overdone image of a certain heroine in the aftermath of his conquest would be followed only a week or two later by a much more low-key and stomach-churningly realistic image of the same heroine naked and in chains, invariably with streamers of pearly cum pouring from her lips and her pussy.  Often the supposed conquest was posed with Joker on one side and his twisted girlfriend Harley Quinn on the other, he with the giant member that had purportedly done the deed still dangling down between his legs, she holding up the skimpy remnants of the heroine’s costume beside her voluptuous naked form – and both looking at the viewer with huge leering grins upon their triumphant lips, like big-game hunters posing with their top-heavy super-feminine trophies.

But of course, of all heroines, Wonder Woman had been his favorite target.  She had lost track of the number of filthy crude images of herself his accounts had vomited forth – images of herself kneeling bound and kissing at his feet, or kissing him on the lips as his supposed giant member plunged into her pussy, or with Batman framed obliviously in the background as she hid behind a dumpster and adoringly sucked his arch-nemesis’s dick.  And she had also lost track of the number of times she had had to tell some smirking reporter, while standing furious before him with her hands on her hips, that the latest one was not real – only for his filthy tabloid to ‘print the controversy’ anyways.

So at last, seeing no choice, Wonder Woman had decided to shut the filthy stream off at the source - once and for all.  With her fists.

Narrowing her pure blue eyes, the stirred-up memories flowing through her mind slowly receding, Wonder Woman glared into the maddeningly smug face of the twisted villain responsible for the digital humiliation of herself and her fellow heroines.  “Smile while you still can,” she said into his Cheshire grin.  “None of your fakery or cunning lies will help you when my boot meets your face.”

But, infuriatingly, her threat simply made the wicked villain’s unnatural smirk grow broader.

“Awww,” he purred, giving her a mocking sneer.  “Did I strike a nerve?”

As he spoke, Wonder Woman gradually became aware of a faint ‘Slurp!  Slurp!  Slurp!’ sound echoing from his screen, just barely perceptible over the whine of her engines.  As she watched, her blue eyes going slightly wide, the camera slowly drew back… and she started to see the back of a sleek jester-hooded head bobbing rhythmically up and down in front of the villain’s chest.  The Joker grinned and, reaching up, lightly stroked the back of Harley Quinn's head, as it continued to eagerly bob and slurp.

“Are my little images really the greatest threat the mightiest of all heroines can imagine?” he teased.  Then he squirmed slightly, and let out a little gasp of pleasure, as if Harley had done something particularly sweet for him with her tongue.

Her buxom star-spangled bottom squirming furiously against her leather seat, Wonder Woman lifted her head high and glared.  Her slender fingers stroked delicately along her steering column, as she seethed.

But as she glared, Wonder Woman could not help but note the dedication they were putting into their scam.  As the camera drew back far enough for her to see Harley’s wide eyes blinking down in awe as she ‘sucked’ and the way the pretty villainess’s cheeks seemed to distend around his supposed girth, she realized that her head was perched up so high upon the Joker’s chest that the only way she could actually be giving him what was being implied was if he really did possess the heroine-dominating monster that had been depicted in all his filthy porn.  But unfortunately for them, she knew better.  Possessing a body that would shame most bikini models and spending most of her time near men who wore their tiny speedos outside their tights, she was all too familiar with the male erection.  And if the greatest of all men struggled to get above four inches, she had not the slightest doubt in her mind that the Joker’s mind-dizzying weapon was but the purest fantasy.

“You know exactly why I am coming,” she said to him, doing her best to ignore his trickery as she sat forward and primly adjusted her trim.  Conveniently, the camera stopped zooming out just before she would have seen proof of the charade.  She smirked, and continued.

“You,” she said, “are giving hope to the worst kind of men.  Filling their filthy souls with the notion that if they just treat us roughly and rudely enough, that the bodies of superheroines – of even the greatest of all women – might be theirs.”

She was not lying.  In the time since Joker’s filthy bile started to stream across the internet, no less than three men had had the courage to sneak up beside her and slam their filthy palms down on her jutting goddess-like backside.  And though she had immediately shown them the consequences of such behavior, the indignity of it still caused her immaculate backside to squirm back and forth upon her invisible leather seat in outrage as she glared at him.  

Worse, the number of men who’d felt confident enough to strut up and spit game at her, as if they thought that if they just negged her hard enough they would get to see her star-spangled panties sliding down to land on the floor of their bedrooms, had gone up eight-fold.  The number who were doing so online had become immeasurable - and Wonder Woman had been more or less forced off her own official social media accounts by the constant barrage of men trying to 'score' her.  Before the Joker, her immaculate glory had kept that to a respectable minimum.

If she continued to let Joker taunt and taint her public image, she feared all the work she had done to educate the men of Man’s World into proper obedience towards the morally superior sex might well be undone.

“So I’m afraid I have no choice,” Diana continued, smirking smugly into the screen.  “I must come and beat you within an inch of your life – for the good of women everywhere!”

Joker, however, didn’t seem perturbed by her threat.  He giggled.  “We’ll see,” he said.  He glanced down, and his inhumanly gigantic grin somehow became broader.  “Isn’t that right Harley?” he asked.

Putting his hand on her head, he grabbed one of the floppy horns of her jester's crown which had swayed to either side of her as she bobbed and slurped, and used it to tug her up.  Harley rose up until her head was just beside her beau’s and turning, grinned into the screen alongside him.  Thick streamers of drool ran down from her full and wickedly flawless dick-sucking lips, to coat and hang in tendrils from her sharp white chin.  

“Hey, girlfriend,” Harley Quinn cooed.  Putting one arm around her boyfriend’s shoulders, Harley moved the other up and down at the bottom of the screen – as if her fingers were stroking up and down the veiny object she had until recently been stroking with her tongue.  “Nice’ta see ya!” she giggled – her eyes taking a brief tour to glance down, suggestively, towards the Amazon’s jaw-droppingly impressive cleavage.

Wonder Woman squirmed.  She could not help but note, in the back of her head, that the motion of Harley’s stroking hand was long enough to imply that the object she was stroking could not be less than sixteen inches in length.  This continued devotion to tricking her caused a yet more pure and intense outrage to rise within Wonder Woman’s buxom hips.  Her eyes narrowed, and she glared with a ferocity that outstripped even her anger at the Joker himself.

“You… you are not my ‘girlfriend’” she hissed.  Detaching a hand from her steering column she shook her finger furiously in the villainess’s wickedly smirking face.  “You… you are the worst kind of woman imaginable!  The kind that worships, assists and enables vile men and their evil!  When I have you in my custody Harley I assure you, it… it will take every ounce of my willpower not to hand you over to my Amazon sisters for a thorough re-education!”

Harley’s eyes lit up.  “Ooh!” she said.  Just below the screen her hand began to stroke faster and faster up and down the Joker’s supposed beast with her apparent enthusiasm – and the Joker dutifully tilted his bony chin back and gasped with pleasure.  “Sounds kinky!” Harley giggled, her eyes sparkling.

“Oh!” Wonder Woman hissed.  She shivered with fury, her buxom star-spangled ass grinding furiously into her invisible seat – such that a camera positioned just below her would have had quite a startling view of her huge satin-straining buns deforming against the unseen cushions.  “You… you perverted harlot!” Wonder Woman snarled, her blue eyes flashing with fury.

Harley giggled.  “I know you are but what am I?” she purred – her hand slowing to give one long tender caress up and down her boyfriend’s unseen schlong.

Wonder Woman quivered, and her eyes narrowed.  “What do you mean?” she hissed.

Harley’s teeth glittered.  Withdrawing her hand from below the screen and lifting both hands up, she put one hand to either side of her boyfriend’s bony grinning head, covering up his ears.

“You can say what you want around the boys,” Harley cooed.  “But don’t pretend you don’t know the score when it’s just us girls.”  She nodded towards her deafened leering beaue, and her evil grin grew darker and more fierce.  “All girls want bad boys, and the goodie-goodies who insist they don't want it the most of all.  And there's no badder boy than mine.  Admit it.  Deep down, you need some of my boyfriend and you need it bad – doncha, Wonder Slut?” she asked.

Wonder Woman’s jaw dropped.  “I… I would never… how could you… he…” she started to sputter, a sudden flurry of swirling disbelief exploding inside her flat broad belly.

Harley shook her head, and leered.  “Don’t worry – I completely understand,” she said.  Turning her bobble-hatted head, Harley used her saliva-coated lips to press a brief kiss to the bony peak of Joker’s twisted, leering cheek.  Then she turned back and smiled, her eyes flashing naughtily.  “I don’t mind,” she said.  “Truth is…” she purred – removing her saliva-dripping hand from his far ear to stroke tenderly down her boyfriend’s cheek, “it turns me on to watch my puddin’ rail away on one of you uptight bitches – to watch him put your high and mighty pussies in their place!  It let's me know I made the right choice - serving a real man rather than ruling some zero!”

Wonder Woman’s jaw hung open for a second.  Then it lifted, and her face twisted into a righteous snarl.  “Well, that’s unfortunate,” she hissed.  Squirming slightly in her unseen seat, she busied herself by taking her right hand off the steering column and adjusting a few dials upon her translucent control panel.  “Be-because the only place either of you are going is straight and hard into… into jail!  Now if you don’t mind, I need to focus on landing.  You’ll see me up close and personal soon – and will regret that you ever chose to grab the tiger’s tail that is an Amazon Princess’s fury!”

“We’ll see, bitch!” the Joker said.  And at that both he and Harley began to laugh.  Their laughter poured out of the screen, into her face.  With a growl, Wonder Woman shot her hand forward.  Stabbing her finger below the screen she turned it off, and it went as dark as the night outside.  Their laughter cut off in mid-cackle, the last echoes of it swirling around her in the cockpit before vanishing beneath the whine of her mystic engines.  Her fingers still shivering slightly with seething passion, she took a firm hold on her steering column once more, and glared up and out of the windscreen.

Outside the pitch darkness that had once enveloped her was rapidly giving way to the glowing lights of Gotham City.  Peering down into the filthy shining streets beneath her, Wonder Woman mentally oriented herself, and picked out the abandoned industrial district in which her intel said Joker was currently operating.  Coming in low amidst the shattered buildings and abandoner warehouses, she identified a trash-strewn vacant lot in which to set down her jet.  With a rush of wind and a whine of unseen engines, her wheels touched down, leaving the sitting Amazon suspended elegantly a few feet above the beer cans and overgrown weeds that littered the lot.  Climbing out of her jet, Wonder Woman hopped down, used a vocal command to lock and seal the jet, and then strutted at last out into the grimy streets of Gotham City.  Set against its filth and decay, she looked like an immaculate goddess who had suddenly manifested herself in the realm of demons.

It was late – just past midnight.  The only sign of other residents was a gang of low-life toughs who stood several yards away.  At the sight of the scantily-clad goddess who had suddenly appeared in their territory, the lowlifes gaped for several seconds, and then rapidly vanished back into a narrow alleyway.   Standing tall and proud, Wonder Woman watched them, and smirked.

She briefly considered trying to run them down and extract some intel with the glowing lasso hanging down against her curvy, scantily-clad hip.  But then she thought better of it.

'They just look like low-level dealers,' she thought.  'If I try to shake down every uncouth man in Gotham I will be here for months.  Better to go trolling for a bigger fish to fry.'

So thinking, the Amazon turned and, selecting the direction that took her deeper into the district, began sauntering forward.  She strutted confidently down the dark and grimy streets of Gotham, a serene smile upon her lips.  As she sauntered past, occasionally another low-life thug or trashy-looking ne'er-do-well would round the corner and spy her.  Every time it went the same way.  Their jaws dropping, they looked the approaching Amazon up and down in awe.  Then, their wills failing them, they turned around and ran away as fast as their grubby trainers would carry them.  Pushing the trash of Gotham before her effortlessly, as if driving them forward with invisible waves emanating from her giant bustier-clad breasts, Wonder Woman merely smirked… and kept right on walking, her buxom and mighty hips swaying haughtily as she put one gleaming boot in front of the other across the cracked and filthy pavement.

'Guess I'm a little more woman than they're used to dealing with...' she thought to herself, hands riding upon her buxom star-spangled hips as they swayed.  'Once I’m done taking down the Clown Prince, maybe I should spend some time patrolling around teaching the lesser beasts a lesson too,’ Wonder Woman thought, her regal face looking to one side and then the other with the calm demeanor of a wealthy heiress strutting through a high-end clothing store.

Turning a corner after another block, Wonder Woman came upon a police cruiser idling by the side of the road.  A portly police officer, with a huge belly and heavy jowls, lounged against the side of the cruiser, seemingly unconcerned about the crime-ridden hive all around him.  As Wonder Woman approached his eyes traced up and down her with leering relish.  As he did so in addition to his substantial paunch a second improbably large bulge grew up the front of his slacks.  Keeping her chin lifted high, Wonder Woman did her best to ignore it as she came to stand before the officer of the law, spreading her long and muscular legs wide and planting her hands upon her star-spangled hips.

"Good evening," she purred, gazing down at him – for the Amazonian proportions of her physique meant her eyes were a few inches higher than his.  Her eyes found a nameplate on his uniform, then lifted back to his jowly face.  “Officer Cullach,” she cooed, hoping to win him over quickly by looking into his eyes and using his name.  Men were simplistic creatures, and in the past such simple tricks had often been enough to have the most hardened and suspicious of cops eating out of the palm of her hand.

But her plan was disrupted as the officer’s eyes also dipped low… and stayed there.  "Evenin' Wonder Boobies," he answered back, openly leering into the tremendous cleavage jiggling back and forth before him, in the swooping space between the enormous cups of her bustier.  "To what do we enjoy the pleasure?" the officer asked - his gaze slowly dropping still further across her flat hourglass-shaped waist, to the sleekly swooping front of her satin panties, before rising back to her breasts.

Wonder Woman's fingers tightened over the thin hip-straps of her skimpy world-famous bottoms.  “It’s Wonder Woman,” she said, frostily.  “Don’t forget again.  I will ignore your insult, just this once – but only because I have more important business than educating fat piggish men like you.”  Running a hand through her hair, she lifted her chin and glared.  "Now…”

She took a step closer, until the tips of her huge breasts were nearly brushing his portly chest, and glared down into his fat-jowled face.  “Give me any information you have as to the Joker’s location… or I will report your sexist and obstructive behavior to your superiors and demand your immediate suspension!”

The cop didn’t appear to be very bothered by the threat.  His eyes glanced idly down into her deep jiggling cleavage, then back up into her furious face.  “If that’s what you want then I suppose I can play match-maker – I mean dispatcher."  Drawing forth a finger, he pointed down a dark alley just a few feet away.  "Report just came in, Joker's gang knocked over a bank, and made off with all the cash – plus the two prettiest tellers to keep it company.  Word on th’ Gotham grapevine is, they hiding out in the old Zerboni Brothers warehouse, just down the way there.”  He pointed to a looming dark structure, poised down a shadowy alley from where he stood.  The Amazon’s gorgeous head followed his gaze, then turned back to him.

“I see,” she hissed.  Her eyes flashed.  “And what were you doing with this information?  Have you no duty to protect and serve, instead of lounging about… letting your gaze wander where it shouldn’t?” she growled. 

The portly cop shrugged.  “I was waitin' on backup before checkin’ it out.  Preferably backup of the Bat and MAN variety, if you catch my drift, sweet cheeks.  But if your star-spangled ass thinks it can deal with what the Joker’s serving, feel free to sway it right on up in there, Ms. Wonder Bottom."

Wonder Woman's chin lifted high.  His insolence briefly made her shiver.  But then, pushing through it, she let a huge smirk slowly spread across her lips.  "Thanks, Officer Coward," she purred.  Turning, she began to strut away up the alley.  When she was about to vanish within, she paused, and turned her head to look at him over her shoulder.

"By the way," she hissed, her blue eyes flashing with fury.  "Just a word of advice.  If we should ever meet again, make sure you get my name right.  Otherwise, I might have to teach you a lesson in respect… and a new meaning of the word ‘police brutality’!"  Lifting her hand, she showed him a fist.

The cop grinned, admiring her magnificent star-spangled ass, which jutted forth from the darkness into the light, the patterns of glare and shadow making magnificent art of its staggering contours.  "Sure thing, Ms. Wonder Lips," he purred.

Wonder Woman sniffed.  In profile to him her gorgeous face briefly quivered with fury, her full red lips trembling.  For a moment she considered going right back and giving him a piece of her fist.  But, knowing her true hated foe still waited, she just glared.

“You’re just lucky I have the Joker to deal with,” she hissed back at him.  Whirling her ravishing head - her lustrous sable hair flashing in the light as she did so – she promptly marched away into the pitch blackness of the alley.  The cop watched her go, her hourglass-shaped curves soon visible only in silhouette before vanishing, with a last parting pneumatic jiggle, into the gloom.

Then, he turned his head, and waited.

For a moment, all was quiet.  Only a few pieces of trash billowing their way along the filthy gutter, the distant howl of sirens, and the glow of the Bat Signal upon the clouds, broke the stillness of the scene.  Then, from the darkness on the other side of the street, another hourglass-shaped silhouette sauntered into view.  Two long bobbing horns dangled from the curvy silhouette's head.  The shape swiftly resolved itself into the form of Harley Quinn, her voluptuous curves practically poured into her skin-tight jester's outfit.  She came to stand before the cop, in almost the exact same position Wonder Woman had occupied - though she kept her thighs together and her shapely hips cocked, in a coquettish counterpoint to Diana's wide-legged and defiant stance.

"Thanks, sugar," Harley Quinn purred.  Reaching around into her belt, just above her jutting skintight-spandex-clad ass, she pulled out a huge wad of bills and began counting out hundreds.  Concluding at a cool five grand, she grinned broadly and handed it over.

"Don't mind if I do, sweetheart," the dirty cop purred, as he took the wad of bills.

"Bye-bye!" Harley said.  Turning, she sauntered back the way she came.  The cop kept his fat ass parked on his purring squad car, and watched her round ass every swaying strut of the way, until it vanished back into the darkness.  Then, running his fingers through his bills, he grinned.  "Good luck, Wonder Buns," he purred.  “Against the Joker, your ass will need it…”

SUMMARY - after a barrage of taunting images to her and other heroines on social media, Wonder Woman has decided to come and take care of Joker once and for all.  While flying in she gets a call from the man himself and they exchange threatening banter.  During most of the call Harley’s head can be seen bobbing at the bottom of the frame as if sucking Joker’s dick, but given the implied length of Joker’s penis from how high up on his chest Harley is Diana refuses to believe it and assumes she is being taunted.  After ending the call and landing she struts through the streets of Gotham until she encounters a police officer.  Despite the fact he behaves in a very sexist and leering fashion towards her, she is able to extract from him intelligence on the Joker’s current whereabouts.  Delivering an ultimatum that if they ever meet again head better watch his tongue, she sets out down the dark alley he indicated.  Moments later a smirking Harley arrives, and hands the corrupt officer a wad of bills for his services.