When he was good and ready, Wonder Woman's assailant slapped her on her ass one more time, and casually strolled from the bathroom. "Thanks for the Shag, Wonder Whoppers", he gleefully called back to the thoroughly defeated heroine.The devastated heroine struggled again to climb to her feet, her whole body quivering with the effort of hauling her humongous breasts upwards. She wanted nothing more than to summon her powers, leap after him, and punish him for his abominable treatment of her weakened form. But she had to try to scrub his filth off her first - THEN he'd pay. Again she proceeded to lather up her near-planet-sized, oblivious to her changed form...And then she heard his voice from nearby, one-sided conversation from just outside the room;"...Yes, that's right I'm Wonder Woman's new manager...""...No, we'll have to switch the interview to here I'm afraid...""...She's not really fit to travel...""...Well to be honest, she's now doubly incontinent, I wouldn't want her to mess up your sofa...""...Yes, we can do it here, but she's not really bright enough to maintain a proper conversation...""...No, she'll make it up to you, if you like that sort of thing...""...The whole crew - yes we can film her sucking them all off if you like - just don't forget she'll be submitting herself to permanent custody later..."WHAT was he saying!? How DARE he!? She must act - right now!She awkwardly managed to step out of the shower cubicle, every inch of her soft flesh dripping with fluid she still believed would refresh her but would hinder her still further. But as she flung her enfeebled arms out to either side of her, she again failed to move with the grace and fluidity to which she was accustomed. Her feet slipped from under her as she commenced her her spin of transformation - not able to cope with such insecure footing and her ridiculously top-heavy frame.She fell over backwards into the cubicle, her corrupted reflexes denying her even the slightest possibility of breaking her fall. Little more than a glancing blow on the back of her skull knocked her clean out, and unfortunately for her she fell with her mouth open still under the pouring faucet, her open mouth still subconsciously lapping up the lactation-inducing hormone.What might once have been good news for Wonder Woman was that she completed enough of her spin that a new version of her once-illustrious costume had indeed appeared. But it appeared on a body that would serve a centrefold perfectly, but a warrior princess not remotely. Further transformations removed and vestige of visible muscle, her whole body as nubile as a slender gymnast, albeit one that now appeared to have completed a succession of ludicrous breast enhancements that rendered the mass of her ever-expanding bosom far more than than the rest of her body. Where once she stood 6' plus, an imposing presence against even the most muscular opponent, now she was around 4'10'', towered over and overpowered by even the feeblest featherweight.The shock of her transformation meant that she had again wet her panties, but so saturated was her body in tittie enhancer that she would remain unaware of this until far too late.And the costume itself, which once provided her with authority and security, now left her even more vulnerable than if she were fully nude. Her red stillettoes would leave needing a very different physical form than she currently possessed to prevent her from being blown over in a stiff breeze. Once she wore secure star-spangled shorts, asserting her allegiance while concealing her femininity; now a single tiny starlet fore and aft was all she possessed to conceal herself, linked by blue gossamer so slender, she could utilise them as dental floss. Her belt once filled her mighty muscles with power, it now only had the capacity to offer the most meagre support to her ravaged loins, a device upon which she was utterly reliant to protect her from messy disgrace. Clasped to it was still her lariat, but she would soon find that the person least able to control it was herself. No bodice on earth could hope to contain her giant gajungas, and it had shrunk to nothing more than a slender piece of red ribbon. And above her huge orbs her lariat was again AWOL, replaced by a comical slave collar. Her outfit was completed by bracelets, that came with solid steel loops attached, making sure she came equipped with her own bondage equipment, and alloyed with a super-heavy isotope of lead to make even raising her hands triply difficult
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