Eddie Hrivnak had never been so nervous. True, he was only a 24-year-old graduate student, and he had never been in anything like real danger, but this was something very different. It was more than the darkness in the hallway, more than the usual and unusual sounds of the old laboratory building. It was even more than his imagination which, at 3:00 AM, was more active than usual. Well, this rent-a-cop gig helped to pay tuition and it usually allowed him some time to do some studying. But he knew there was always a chance that he might run into some problems.
Still, you’d think a school like the University of Delaware could afford to have more than one security officer on patrol in this building. With all that Dupont money. Especially given how things were now. Two days ago, four students at Kent State in Ohio had been shot during an anti-war demonstration. For the last 48 hours, college campuses across the country had been closing down, there had been riots and fire-bombings of buildings, and anything that was connected to war-related research on any campus was threatened. So what does ol’ U of D do? They bring in one security guard for each of their four weapons-related labs. The other three guys were probably ready to piss their pants, too, right now. That he wasn’t alone in his anxiety was some small comfort.
Just at that moment, he saw a figure run across the end of the hall, thirty yards in front of him. Well, this is why they pay me the big bucks, Eddie thought, and he took off after the intruder. Even before he got to the hallway intersection, he heard the front door of the building slam shut. The intruder had already got out, but Eddie raced into the mall anyway, where the only light came from the antiquated street lamps some yards away. He jogged up to Delaware Avenue hoping to catch a glimpse of someone running away, but no luck. It was then that the far wing of the building blew up.
It turned out there was someone in the building. A chemical engineering graduate student was working alone in the upstairs lab late that night, when he dozed off. He never woke up. The fact that he was working on a top-secret project for the Navy meant Military Intelligence would have to investigate Eddie Hrivnak’s report of an intruder fleeing the building just moments before the explosion. Steve Trevor and his assistant Diana Prince arrived at the University within hours of the explosion and began their investigation.
They made their headquarters at a motel about a mile from campus. After making Eddie repeat his story four times, going over it in excruciating detail, some individual points as many as seven times, they retired to their suite for the evening.
‘Well, it seems clear that the Security Guard saw the bomber flee the building. We don’t have much of a description-male, young, well built, long, dark hair. But we’ve started with less,’ Steve began, seated in a brightly colored motel chair.
‘Steve, let me offer an alternative view,’ Diana countered. ‘Suppose the Security Guard was supposed to see the runner. To get him out of the building. Nobody knew about the other student upstairs. Not even the Guard. He said the lab was locked and dark. Maybe the bomber-or bombers-wanted to get everyone out of the building. They wanted to destroy the lab, not kill someone.’
‘Sounds like Little Mary Sunshine is alive and well. Buildings are being attacked all over this country, with very little regard for the consequences. A dozen military projects have been hurt, one or two irreparably. These people don’t care about what happens to anyone who gets in their way.’
Diana hated it when Steve got this way. When he adopted his ‘America-Love It or Leave It’ attitude, she really began to have second thoughts about whether she had more than a physical attraction for the big, broad-shouldered, handsome, . . . . well, there was that. Just thinking about that made her shudder involuntarily.
Steve continued to berate the ‘hippies and draft dodgers who were ruining this country and dragging down everything America stood for’ for several minutes more. Diana stopped paying attention to him after only a few seconds. She had other plans to work out. Mainly, how did this underground group know about the Forbin Project? She and Steve had been briefed about it just before they came here, and, apparently, only a few very top brass and scientists knew much about it at all. Dupont had secured a developmental contract to create a new form of chemical weapon, to be used in the war, as a means to push the North Vietnamese in the negotiations. It was a hallucinogenic, combined with a barbiturate effect. The NVA and the Viet Cong would be incapacitated by exposure. Diana would have to make her own independent investigation later.
Wonder Woman entered the wrecked wing of the laboratory from the roof of the campus theatre next door. No sense attracting too much attention, she thought. Steve is asleep, and Diana’s form could be seen in her own bed, in her own room. If people knew that Wonder Woman is here, they might suspect that there’s more to this bombing than a random act of terrorism.
As her knee-high, red leather boots dropped to the floor, she bent her knees to absorb the force of the landing. She undid her golden lasso from the exposed beam and replaced it at the proper place attached to her golden belt. Her star-spangled form moved lithely through the rubble of the second floor lab. The bomb had gone off outside the door, demolishing the lab and killing Peter Golden, who was asleep at a desk about fifteen feet from the entrance. The location of the bomb indicated that the bombers could not get inside the locked door. Or maybe that they didn’t care what was inside. It was a leap, however, to assume they knew about the Forbin Project. But with several well-known projects also going on on this campus, the likelihood that this was a random act that just happened to strike a high government priority was small. Eddie (‘Cute guy, Eddie. I wonder. . . . Oh, put that out of your mind now, woman.’) said the door had been locked. As she stepped over the broken pieces of wall, lab tables, and charred bits of other lab equipment, Wonder Woman’s sharp eyes caught sight of something that had not been noticed earlier.
There on the floor was a small spot of glowing, phosphorescent substance. Now, Diana had not been told much about the project, they very definitely told her that the substance would not glow in the dark. Was it part of the explosive? No, there was a trail of the substance, leading through one of the holes in the wall, into the interior of the shattered building. She followed it like a trail of breadcrumbs.
Curiouser and curiouser. It led upstairs, toward the unused storage areas in this vintage 1950s laboratory building. Was someone trying to suck her in? She had the strength of Hercules; everyone knew that. As she moved away from the rubble of the destroyed lab and into the stairwell, the only sounds were the clicking of her three-inch heels and the soft rush of her satin costume. She slowed as she got to the fourth floor, where the green drops began to disappear and the residue traces were farther apart, like whatever had been leaking was running dry. Or, it may be the beginning of a trap. Wonder Woman brushed her long hair from her shoulders and slowly approached the door leading from the stairwell.
It was pitch black there. No windows at all, and apparently not even a crack in the walls or ceiling. Fortunately, besides being a glorious liquid shade of blue, Wonder Woman’s eyes could adjust to even this condition, though she still had to move slowly.
Feeling her way along the wall, her senses heightened by the diminished role of sight, she heard nothing, smelled nothing, felt nothing but the ancient wallpaper, in some spots peeling from the walls behind her. In this environment, it was possible for even a superheroine to be taken by surprise.
It was a well-coordinated attack, and it worked because it was so well coordinated. When she reached a point beside a doorframe, Wonder Woman stopped for a moment, and at that instant the room filled with light. Three great lamps turned on, directly into her beautiful face. Her hands flew up to her eyes as they closed in reaction to the brilliance and she turned her face away. At that very instant, a strong young man, his eyes protected by some kind of goggles, swung a four-by-four directly into Wonder Woman’s midsection, right at the top of her golden girdle, where the golden eagle of her breastplate anchored his feet. Though she wasn’t injured by the blow, its suddenness startled the Amazon Princess, and she was slammed back against the wall. Then another pair of hands grabbed the magic lasso from her belt, and before the Amazon Maid had time to respond, she was a prisoner of the lasso’s magic.
‘Be still, Wonder Woman. You will offer no resistance,’ a voice said. Wonder Woman’s eyes were still adjusting to the light, and she tingled around her bare shoulders and upper arms where the lasso secured her.
‘The magic lasso compels me to obey,’ she said automatically. Powerless, bound by her own greatest weapon, she reddened at the though of how easily she had been captured. Any time this happened to her, she knew she was in great danger. It was impossible to tell what kind of person held the lasso, and she had no idea what this man wanted of her. At the same time, the excitement of her incredible power under the control of another excited her and she felt the tinge of wetness beneath her star-spangled tights. She stood in the light, her heels together, her legs locked, her body rigid at attention. What would he do to her?
There was a shuffling on the far side of the doorway to her right, and several black-clad young men and women rushed past her. Some of them went into the stairwell, some waited just beyond the line of the light.
‘We’re going to take you with us. We anticipated that you would show up to investigate any attack on the Forbin Project. Especially when we saw that Trevor jerk and his flunky wading through the lab today. You’re becoming predictable, did you know that, Wonder Woman? Wherever he goes, you’re not far behind. You can almost smell the musk in the air. Tell me, what do you see in him?’
He’s beautiful. When we hold one another, my whole body just melts into his arms. I feel the wetness between my legs and I dream of him being there.’
Whoa, whoa! This is getting disgusting. Besides, it’s not what we’re here for,’ said the voice.
With that, a man wearing a black turtleneck and trousers emerged from the shadows. He was older than the suspect group (mainly undergrads), nearing thirty, balding, with glasses. ‘Don’t concern yourself with remembering my features, Wonder Woman. Before you’re released in the morning, I’ll give you an order to forget everything which happens tonight.’
When she heard this, Wonder Woman’s spirit dropped. Nor only would her memory of events be erased because of the power of the golden lasso, but they were planning to keep her all night. What did they have in mind?
‘So,’ the man holding the lasso went on, ‘if you don’t mind, we’re going to have to render you unconscious so we can take you somewhere else. Then we’ll begin our little inquiry.’
‘What do you mean “inquiry”?’ Wonder Woman asked. But before she could get an answer, she saw a heavy white cloth smelling heavily of chloroform approach her face. She heard another order not to resist through the haze as the familiar sickly sweet smell filled her nostrils and the back of her throat. Her liquid blue eyes rolled back in her head and in seconds she was utterly oblivious to what befell her.
Wonder Woman was carried from the building and placed in the trunk of a Pontiac LeMans, which was waiting at the curb. The other equipment was loaded into the back of a Datsun pick-up, and the two nondescript vehicles pulled away. It was barely midnight as they moved unnoticed down Delaware Avenue. Dawn for Wonder Woman was a long way away.
Wonder Woman struggled back to consciousness. Her eyes opened dazedly against the light. She was in a large room with stone and brick walls, and several doors leading elsewhere. All the doors were closed. She lay on her back on a table of some sort, and she felt the strong grip of a pair of hands on each of her arms and legs. She struggled, but it was futile. She could not throw of the strength of the young men who pinned her muscular, but chained, extremities to the flat surface.
‘It will do you no good to struggle, Wonder Woman,’ said the voice that was becoming more familiar. ‘It is well known that your great strength fails you when your bracelets are chained by a man.’ Wonder Woman was spread-eagle and utterly helpless. The fear that had struck her earlier returned, but she quickly resolved to face her opponents with all the courage she could muster. In addition, she was, after all, as beautiful as Aphrodite and as wise as Athena. She hoped those talents might save her on this night.
‘I have some questions for you. You will,’ he said, as he now placed the golden lasso around Wonder Woman’s neck and pulled it tight, ‘answer me truthfully.’
‘The magic lasso compels me to obey,’ said the helpless captive of the lasso’s power for the second time tonight. Her throat’s sensitivity, heightened by the presence of the lasso, seemed to thrill under the slight pressure.
For the next two hours, the helpless Amazon Princess answered question after question, about Paradise Island, about her mother, about the society of Amazons and their history and culture, about her abilities and limitations. Wonder Woman could not fathom what her interrogator was after. After the first fifteen minutes, the balding man dismissed the men who were holding her to the table. When Wonder Woman sat up, she saw that a woman was taking notes on what she was saying and that there was also a tape recorder on the chair between them. Powerless in the lasso’s magic, she could not resist his persistent questions.
Finally, he nodded to the secretary, who stood and left, and he reached down and switched off the recorder. ‘Now, if you will be so kind, please lay down on the table again,’ he said softly.
As the beautiful but helpless Princess of Paradise Island did so, she noticed the other young men returning to the chamber. ‘I’m actually sorry for this, but I d0on’t have much money. And my work must be completed.’ Wonder Woman did not understand the significance of this statement.
Wonder Woman’s arms and legs were secured by four of the men, and the fifth spoke quietly with the man who was obviously their boss. Without a word, the boss walked around the table and removed the golden lasso from around her neck. He sighed, and then left the room. Suddenly, it dawned on the Amazon that she was in genuine danger.
She was again spread-eagle on the table, three feet of chain running between her bracelets. This chain hung down over the edge of the table. Her raven hair also reached over the table’s edge. She felt the pressure on her extremities sharply increase, as the young men prepared for the muscular Maiden’s resistance. She breathed in quickly and began to thrash about, her efforts futile against the four powerful bodies holding her down.
The first young man stood to her right. He withdrew a hypodermic from his shirt pocket and injected the Amazon with a drug whose effect would only soon become clear. She continued to resist, but gradually weakness and disorientation overcame her and she could not focus her mind on the struggle. She did not lose consciousness-that was the insidious nature of the drug. She was to be awake and aware throughout her ordeal; she would just be utterly incapable of resistance. As her resistance diminished, her captors released her arms and legs. She could see them all smiling down on her. Wonder Woman tried to sit up on the table, but the weight of the chains now seemed so awkward that all she managed to do was to get halfway up and then pitch over the left edge of the table, falling heavily to the floor.
The smiles remained on the faces of the five men surrounding her. Lying on her stomach, she pulled her chained forearms under her shoulders and raised herself to her knees and elbows. In this position, her hips and ass were higher than her upper body, and one of the men walked over to her, placed his boot against the star-sprinkled blue of her tights and pushed her, hard. She rolled over and over across the floor, the chain rattling, her costume and boots rustling against the thin carpet. In her daze, the powerful but helpless Amazon Princess could do nothing to help herself. She could not even use what feeble strength she had in her bound condition to fight back. She laid on her back, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling. Sweat appeared on her forehead, as she nervously watched her five antagonists approach her. One walked directly past her and sat down on a stool, which stood in the corner. Two others stood next to him, one on either side.
One of the remaining men grabbed her legs, tightly holding her leather boots and her calves within. He turned her around on the flat of her back and dragged her about six feet into the center of the room. There, the last man joined him. They kneeled on the Amazon’s right and left sides and began to grope her body, her costume, and her boots.
Ooohh, no, breathed Wonder Woman. But her voice was weak and her speech slurred. Her mind was awake and aware, but she could not get her body to respond. Then, she said something she had never in her life said before: ‘Please. No. Don’t. Please.’ It seemed to bring a light to the men’s eyes.
One pair of hands ran up and down her tanned, muscular, shapely legs, seeming to take a particular relish in her round and powerful thighs. The hands alternated between handling her roughly and gently. The gentleness she found somehow stimulating, though she didn’t understand why. That too was the effect of the drug. The hands passed over her knees and down to her leather boots. Fingers reached into the boots and withdrew. The young man took the sweat he found there and rubbed it around his mouth, in order to have the smell of the Amazon’s sweat wafting up into his nose. Then, the same hands moved up the inside of her thigh and reached the crotch of her uniform, finally penetrating her. Again, he wiped the Princess’ smell around his mouth. He did this over and over.
The other pair of hands massaged her large and round breasts. As they did so, the antagonist pushed downward on the upper part of her breastplate, gradually exposing her now-firm and very sensitive breasts. Occasionally, he would bring his face down to her and suck at the nipple, even biting it gently to elicit a groaning response from the beautiful, utterly helpless woman on the floor before him. He licked her breasts, he licked her throat, he licked her ear, he licked her face.
Wonder Woman couldn’t believe that she could do nothing. Even more, she could not believe that the erotic sensations rumbling through her body. As the young men worked her body she saw colours, bands of light, lumps of form and shadow, They increased as she felt the sensations rising in her as she was stimulated by the four hands passing over her compliant body. She breathed more heavily now; the sweat on her face and between her legs flowed freely. Her heaving breasts were also soaked with rivulets of perspiration, flowing down into her bosom and off the side of her chest. The flowing streams of sweat increased the activity of her tormentors. She heard their breathing become more ragged, as was her own, and their gropes lost the occasional gentleness that had earlier marked their work. ‘This can’t be happening to me,’ he mind told her. ‘Hera, help me!’
Then there was a new sensation. At the same time, both men opened their trousers and pulled their cocks from within, still kneeling beside the helpless Princess. They now began passing their members over and across the unresisting body of the Champion of All Women. The man on her right, who’d been working her lower reaches, suddenly straddled her thighs, grabbed the captive’s crotch, and sprayed his cum all over Wonder Woman’s uniform. He came and groaned and came some more. The satin blue and white star pattern of her tights, her golden belt, and the lower part of the eagle design were covered with the runny white streams of his manhood.
Meanwhile, his partner on her left had scooted his body toward her shoulder, running his cock over her neck, against her ravishing face, and into her splayed hair. Finally, he too sprayed himself all over the prone Amazon. It shot into her cleavage, across her bare upper chest, all over her face including her mouth, nose, and eyes, and into her hair. And Wonder Woman could barely move.
‘I must fight back,’ the Amazon thought. ‘I must.’ As the two young men rose, replacing their cocks in their pants, Wonder Woman made another effort to rise. She felt the strands of cum run down her face and chest, and when she brushed her arm against the front of her costume, the stickiness remained on the inside of her forearm.
By concentrating all her phenomenal mental power, this time Wonder Woman was able to rise to her knees before her strength left her. She breathed deeply through both mouth and nose and she felt the jism there run into her body. For a brief moment she felt like retching. Now, the two men who had been standing in the corner approached her. ‘I must get to my feet. I can’t be this weak. I can’t simply lay here and allow them to have their way.’ But she could only raise one leg and plant her foot on the floor. Exhausted, her exposed breast fell against her naked thigh; her head fell forward, her hair covering her face and part of her red leather boot. Her hands were on the floor, the chain running between her wrists mocking her failed efforts even to stand up.
‘Wait.’ It was one of the men who had just finished with her. ‘We want a memento.’ They again crossed to the powerless woman, and standing on either side of her placed an arm under each of her shoulders. They roughly dragged Wonder Woman to her feet. ‘Here,’ said one, as he handed a Polaroid camera to one of the waiting men. Wonder Woman slumped between the men, her legs too weak to even support her. Her head fell to her chest and lolled to one side, her hair covering both breasts. But the two men smiled at the camera, and the one on the Princess’ left grabbed her hair and pulled her head upright. Her mouth slid open, her eyes barely focused, but still the Amazon recognised the humiliation that was being heaped upon her. After the photograph was taken, the two dragged the woman to a darkened corner of the room. As they did so, her boots scraped across the carpet. She tried to move her legs, to take even a single step, but was unable. A wall switch was flipped; a light came on in the corner revealing a full-length mirror in the wall. As the men supporting the once-mighty Wonder Woman began to laugh at the spectacle, again they drew her head up and showed her a sight she had never even dreamed possible.
Her hair was tangled and sweaty, mixed with cum that had been sprayed all over her; her face, once beautiful, was haggard, her mouth hanging open, streams of jism crossing it, her eyes half-closed; more cum was visible in the bare bulb overhead and her body shone with sweat. Her naked breasts showed over the turned out top of her bustier, and below them, the patriotic symbolism of the satin was marred by further white streams running and dripping toward her legs. The men holding her upright laughed harder as she tried to turn her head away. But they wouldn’t let her. ‘N-No,’ she said as loudly as she could, her speech still slurred. ‘No…. You… can’t… you… can’t…. Please….’ They only laughed harder. They raised her arms directly in front of the defeated woman.
‘Look at your chains, Amazon,’ one said. We can do anything we like. You’ve been tossing men around like so many stuffed toys for years now. And now, bitch, it’s time for payback. Beg all you want. We want you to beg. In that “God-Bless-America” costume and with your high-and-mighty oh-so-righteous attitude, you need to learn how to beg. Beg for your life. Beg for your honour. We want you to beg. But don’t to get anything for all your begging.’ Then they simply tossed the humiliated form of the most beautiful and powerful woman they had ever seen back to their comrades who were waiting their turn with her. ‘Bitch!’ they said as she landed in the middle of the room.
They took the camera and, admiring the developed photo, left the room.
Wonder Woman’s left leg hit the floor first. Then, as if she were an awkward runner in a race to the finish line, she pitched forward to the floor. She landed full on her exposed chest, and then rested on her stomach. Her arms were at her sides, the chain between them running under her powerful but useless thighs. She moved her head, as she tried to summon enough strength to rise. But because her weight lay on the chain, she couldn’t move her arms more than a few inches. Then she felt two pairs of hands grab her and pull her up.
The two men carried her to the table and placed her on it, on her back. ‘All right, Wondercunt, let’s take a look,’ one of them said. The voice growled and was vicious. Wonder Woman’s arms were raised over her head, and the weight of the chains ensured that she could not move them. The man who had spoken grabbed her thighs. For a moment, he enjoyed their muscularity, their roundness and their firmness. Then he pulled the supine Amazon Princess toward him. Her red leather boots now hung down toward the floor. He reached around to the small of the Amazon’s back and undid her golden belt. Taking the belt in front, he yanked it from her middle.
Wonder Woman’s head rocked from side to side. Tears welled up in her eyes and began to roll down her face. Her powerlessness, her helplessness, were total. Her humiliation was total. Her mind was screaming at her to fight back, to kick one of the men, to make any kind of show of resistance. To do something. But her body would not respond.
‘No,’ she said weakly. ‘No,’ and this time it sounded like sobbing.
Without a word, the man standing between her legs turned to the job at hand. Carefully, he pulled the edges of Wonder Woman’s blue and white-starred tights away from her. As he did so, he leaned forward. In a harsh whisper he breathed at her, ‘Well, Wondercunt, are you ready for a whole new experience?’ as the tights revealed her cunt. ‘Or have you and Trevor made it? We’re taking bets that you did it with Superman and that Trevor is still lying to the guys at the officers’ club.’
‘Stop,’ she whispered.
‘Not a chance!’
The tights, streaked with cum from the earlier masturbation, passed over the Amazon’s perfect thighs, their roundness and muscularity amplified by their tan. They then crossed her knees, and then the man stooped as he pulled them past her boots hanging over the edge of the table. He placed them carefully on the floor behind him. There, just below the perfectly flat stomach lay Wonder Woman’s cunt. He reached inside. ‘Hey, what do you know? She’s wet. And they say women don’t want this.’ He began finger-fucking her pussy, enjoying the sensations which he saw pass over her as she shuddered. She arched her back and neck as he probed deeper and deeper, first with one finger, then two. He squeezed her clitoris and the helpless Amazon softly groaned.
The other man turned his attention to what was left of her patriotic costume. As Wonder Woman squirmed on the table, he reached around to her back and pulled off her bustier and breastplate. He carefully placed this with her tights behind the man between her legs. When the Princess of Paradise was stripped of her costume, both men stopped to admire the physicality of this woman. Her head rolled from side to side. Occasionally a whispered ‘no’ was heard. Then the man below returned to his massaging and probing of Wonder Woman’s sex. With his thumb he flicked her growing pink clitoris. The man working above began to gently stimulate her aureole.
Sweat was streaming down Wonder Woman’s body now. The spasms resulting from the sexual assault had made her mouth dry, had caused her legs to jerk upward uncontrollably, and left her head rolling on the table top. She could not think straight. All she felt was the massive orgasm building in her. Her ears filled with the sound of rushing wind, her eyes rolled in her head.
Then the man standing between her legs undid his pants and jammed his erect 10-inch penis hard and deep into her. Wonder Woman screeched. That was all you could call it. She wasn’t strong enough to scream. The rapist now pulled his huge, hard cock outward and rammed it home again. He grabbed her thighs and, squeezing and rubbing them, worked over the Amazon’s cunt.
At that moment, the fourth man undid his pants. He grabbed the Princess’ ebony hair just behind the point of her tiara and turned her face toward him. His cock was erect and, lifting her head from the table, he jammed her open mouth down onto his member.
Wonder Woman did not know how long the double rape lasted. The erotic surges, the multiple orgasms, the disgust at her powerlessness, the taste of the man’s penis in her mouth, the brutality of the man driving his cock into her vagina, the dryness of her mouth as she was forced to suck one man while servicing another: All these sensations combined to make her body respond utterly instinctively. She wrapped her lower legs, still with the leather boots in place, around the middle of the man below her. This only drove his ecstasy higher as he interpreted it as a sign of her submission to his power. She turned and tried to grab the ass of the man at her head. The man watching her laughed heartily at her debasement. And, all the while, the Amazon’s mind, not having lost any of its sharpness, wished for death.
When the two men had deposited their sperm, they withdrew and the Amazon Princess coughed as she tried to eject the cum from her mouth and throat.
The man grabbed her hair again and screamed in her face, ‘You bitch! You swallow that!’ Then he slapped her, hard.
The other man, pulling his pants up, shouted a warning. Looking at the spot of the blow, he reported, ‘There’s nothing there.’
Jism rolled out of her mouth and onto her cheek and chin. As the men returned their cocks to their rightful place, they smiled down on their victim. Then, just as the pair before them had done, they pulled the helpless woman to her feet and dragged her to the mirror.
‘Look at yourself!’ one of them said. ‘Look at yourself, you cunt! This is the rightful place for women. You’re not so high-and-mighty now, are you?’
Wonder Woman tried not to see herself, but they held her head firmly, and for all her wishing her eyes would not close out the sight before them.
She was naked, except for her tiara, her bracelets and the chain running between them, and her red boots. Her body was covered with soil and debris from the carpet. Her boots were scuffed, her thighs, the curly raven hair of her bush and the lips of her sex were sopping wet, her breasts were swollen and red, and cum was running out of her mouth, down her chin and onto her chest. Dried cum was everywhere. Her hair was soaked with sweat and her tiara looked like an ironic joke.
They called to the man who had watched it all from the stool in the corner, ‘Go tell Bob we want his camera.’ The man left the room and quickly returned. Once again, Wonder Woman was the object of a humiliating photograph. Just as the two had done earlier, they stood on either side of her, one holding her head up for the camera. They smiled broadly as the photo was taken. Then, just as they had set aside her star-spangled tights and her red-and-gold breastplate, they tossed her aside as well.
Wonder Woman was beaten. She could not move. She knew there was one more man waiting his turn and she knew she couldn’t resist anything he may have in mind. ‘I want to die,’ she thought. ‘But I fear I won’t. Hera, hear my prayer. Help me.’
But the remaining man left the room with the other two. He did not approach the prone Amazon. Wonder Woman’s body relaxed, eventually. She lay on her back, looking at the bare ceiling. ‘Now, they’re going to make me forget all of this,’ she thought. ‘There must be some way, some mind-control way that I can retain this memory. I must not forget. I must not forget what they did. I must not forget who they are. I must remember.’ But she knew that she would not.
The boss returned to the room a few minutes later. Wonder Woman still lay naked in the middle of the floor. ‘Did you bruise her?’ he asked the four men who had worked over the heroine. All of them shook their heads. He looked over her body, rolling her over to inspect her back. ‘OK. Go get her cleaned up.’
A short while later Wonder Woman was tied to a chair by her magic lasso. She could feel her body coming back under her control, but her power was still checked by the chains between her bracelets. She held her head upright and the anger and fury she felt for these people was evident in her face.
‘All right, Princess,’ the boss said, ‘we’re going to send you back out on your own now. As I told you earlier, I’m going to make you forget almost everything that happened tonight. I will tell you what to remember and what to forget. You can bet your ass you won’t remember the method by which I had to pay my associates.’
Suddenly everything became clear. Her mind screamed at her, ‘Of course. That’s what’s going on. The questions. The mention of money earlier. The age of her interrogator. He’s a graduate student doing a dissertation on the Amazons and me. He captured me to get the answers to his questions, questions he knew I wouldn’t answer. And, since he can’t afford to pay the muscle he needed for the capture, he had to let them rape me.’ Her blue eyes turned dark and she shifted her weight in the chair, her now-clean uniform rustling under her.
‘One other thing I want you to know, although you won’t remember this either. I’m not through with you yet. I have some experiments that need to be undertaken.’ The captive Princess now had a new set of questions racing through her head.
‘All right, let’s get on with it,’ he concluded.
He ordered her to forget almost everything that had happened since she entered the fourth floor of the laboratory building. The only thing she was specifically ordered to remember was that there had been other people with her on the fourth floor. Then, she was given a shot of a sedative. Quickly she fell unconscious. The chains were removed from her bracelets and replaced by a set of handcuffs.
She was driven back to campus, again in the trunk of the Le Mans. Once there, as the sky was brightening in the east, she was carried up to the fourth floor, her hands were freed, and she was deposited on the dusty floor of the storage area. Before she regained consciousness, she was abandoned by her tormentors. The last thing they did was to place a miniature radio-tracking device inside her golden belt. This would allow them to be prepared to take her again when they were ready.