“Good evening, sir,” Steve Trevor says briskly into the handset of his desk phone as he gives Etta Candy an exasperated look. The need to follow up possibly time-consuming leads that won’t pan out is good and proper police work but nerve-wracking none-the-less when lives hang in the balance. “My name is Major Steve Trevor of the IADC. Is this the Wallace Reardon who is the CEO of Reardon Pharmaceuticals?”
“Yes it is. What’s this about, Major?”
“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you on a Sunday evening but I am tracking down leads in an investigation into the deaths of three superheroines in the DC area and the name of your company has come up in the...”
“My company?” The startled man interrupts Steve from the other end of the line. “In what way, Major?”
“Your company uses both Elimanol and a specialized nerve agent available only in Europe.”
“Which one? We use several.”
“It’s called...uh, I’m not sure how to pronounce this: Quin..you...clyde......”
“Quinuclidinyl benzilate,” Reardon cuts Trevor off. “Called BZ by Nato. Very tricky stuff.”
“That’s the one, sir. May I ask what you use it for, Mr. Reardon?”
“We have a government contract to use that nerve agent in our research for military applications and unless I have your clearance checked out, Major, that’s all I can say about what we do with it. As for the Elimanol, that’s available at any chemical supply house, as I’m sure you know.”
“Have there been any thefts of BZ from your facilities recently or going back a year or more?”
“Absolutely not, Major Trevor. BZ or Buzz as its called, well, it’s nasty stuff. We have the highest level security safeguards in place.” The executive takes a breath and in less hostile tone, continues on. “It can produce incoherence, wide behavior swings including combativeness, memory loss, shared hallucinations with others infected by Buzz, bladder issues and much more. The stuff actually gets worse the longer its in you; well, unless it’s counteracted by other chemicals. But Elimanol wouldn’t be used with it. That would be used as a cleaning agent in areas where the drug is produced I’d say. Were those heroines subjected to Buzz, Major?”
“I’d rather not say, Mr. Reardon.”
“You just did, Major. I pity those women. It would have been a most unpleasant experience. It wouldn’t have been lethal in and of itself. But it certainly would have slowed their reaction times and frankly, made them incapable of decent judgement at all. They’d be confused, disoriented, even crying irrepressibly: certainly off their game, to say the least. I wish you well in stopping whoever is playing around with that stuff. It’s highly irresponsible.”
“Thank you, Mr. Reardon. If you do detect any discrepancies in your security please alert me as soon as possible, sir, here at IADC.”
“Of course, Major. Good luck.”
“Thank you, sir.” Hanging up, Trevor looks at Etta and shakes his head. “Not him. I get no vibe there at all. What was that next name again?”
“It’s Neural Science Laboratories in Rosslyn,” Etta Candy replies. “Right near the Pentagon.”
“Probably another government contract. Give me the number of their CEO.”
“Not really a CEO. His title is President. Just a six-person company.”
“That sounds more suspect to me,” Steve says as he reaches for the phone to dial the next number. Its loud ring on a Sunday night surprises Steve into jerking his hand away instinctively. He looks at Etta with a bit of a sheepish look and picks up the handset.
“Steve Trevor here. Who is this?”
“Major Trevor, this is Sergeant David Miller downstairs in Global Screening. Something’s come up on the Internet that’s....disturbing, sir.”
“I’m in the middle of something vital right now, Sergeant. It will just have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Yes sir, normally I wouldn’t bother you except for your directive, sir.”
“Be more specific and more concise, Miller,” commands the anxious Trevor who wants to get back to tracking his possible leads on Diana and Wonder Woman. “Which directive?”
“The one about Wonder Woman. You wanted to be notified if there was significant chatter on her on the web. There is, sir. Trending red hot. She’s on a website.”
“On a website? What, now?”
“Right now, sir. It appears to be a live feed. And it’s our opinion down here at Screening, Major, that she is severely compromised.”
“What’s the website address, Miller. I’ll bring it up on my unit here.”
“It’s WW Screwed! That’s two capital W’s then an underline and then the word ‘Screwed’ capitalized with an exclamation point at the end, sir.”
“Man, that doesn’t sound good,” Trevor says, typing the address onto his laptop.
“Oh dear,” exclaims Etta as she watches the site come up showing a scene of Wonder Woman getting down onto her knees. There is no sound to the sequence. The heroine is holding one end of her famous golden lasso while a tall man in a suit jacket and pants wearing a white shirt holds the other end. His face is pixilated while Wonder Woman’s is clear. The confusion and anxiety on her face is clear. Her costume is a tattered mess with her crotch exposed and those ample breasts naked and shaking in the open air. The mighty Amazon goes from one knee down to both, her head looking up at the man as if desperate to hear what he has to say. And then the loop begins again, with the man walking forward, coiling the lasso as he does.
“What’s that, a menu?” Steve is staring at the screen, transfixed by the sight of Wonder Woman’s famous costume in tatters, the huge breasts swaying free, the exposed black bush of this incredible beauty. He has to tear himself away from the visual looping above the pricing information below to focus on the options listed.
“Yes sir,” comes the thin voice over the phone handset that a stunned Steve Trevor now holds at his side. He brings the receiver to his ear and listens as the Sergeant describes the situation and the cutoff about to happen to those who don’t pay in the next 85 seconds according to the timer at the bottom of the screen.
“My wallet! Where’s my wallet?” Steve frantically hangs up the phone on a surprised Sergeant Miller and looks around for his uniform jacket. He remembers he left it in the lounge area while getting something from the vending machines. “Etta, we’ll have to use your charge card,” he says, snapping up her purse sitting on the edge of his desk and opening the catch.
“Steve!” Etta barks, angry at his forwardness and stunned at his desperation. “Give me my purse,” she commands as he rummages through the large leather bag. He quickly hands it over and she pulls out the wallet from a zippered side pocket in a quick, practiced motion. “I’ll read out the number, you type it in. I expect to put in for this on my expense report.”
“For a porn site?! That’ll raise eyebrows,” he whines.
Etta just glares at him. He grimaces back but and nods briskly at her. “Fine, fine! Give me the number, we’ve only got 52 seconds left.”
Etta reads it off and then gives him the three-digit code required on the back. With 26 seconds to spare, Trevor gets a ‘Thank You’ screen on his monitor that says: Please wait. The live feed will begin shortly.
Steve goes back to watching the screen intently as Etta’s face bounces from her wide-eyed Major to the wide-eyed Wonder Woman on the screen. She is dismayed and a bit jealous of Steve’s slack-jawed ogling of the famous beauty’s exposed tits and pussy, and concerned for the heroine’s safety. But as for what she can actually do about either situation, she hasn’t a clue.
Wonder Woman is leaning face forward against the wall with her arms stretched out in front of her, elbows locked, legs spread apart, and her palms pressed flat against the white surface. Her head is turned toward Pascal and she’s giving him a pained look regarding the suggestion he’d just made about her giving him a blow job. She had expected some sort of filthy request but still it disgusts her that she’s going to have to get down on her knees and put his cock in her mouth for the second time that day.
But then Pascal breaks into a smile and tells her, “Sit down on the floor. I am just messing with your head” and she lets out the breath she’d been holding. The heroine removes her hands from the wall, turns and pulls the hem of her skirt out of its own waistband and proceeds to sit down with her legs drawn up tight against her body, her knees touching the floor and tightly clamped together, ankles crossed, blocking any view up her skirt. It’s as lady-like a position she can manage wearing nothing more than a short skirt, no panties and a bald pussy. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at the Frenchman.
“No, I do not want you to give me a bj, my dear. Well, I do, but sadly there is no time before we start up again. I just want you to be very clear about what I am about to do with you. I want no surprises and no pitiful escape attempts that interrupt my pleasure so I am informing you ahead of time. Any effort to resist or compromise me will have me calling out your name and switching to the scene of you flashing change from Agent Prince to Wonder Woman in my study. Do we understand each other, mon ami?”
“I understand: No escapes. And you are hardly my friend, you pathetic loser, since you are about to fuck me,” Wonder Woman says coldly.
“But of course. Why would I not fuck you, cherie. I have yet to fully sample your pussy to my natural conclusion....”
“And you are going to cum inside me.” More deadpan reaction from the Amazon
Pascal’s left eyebrow lifts at this but continues on with a wink right after that. “How would I be able to resist your many charms, cherie. Yes, I will ejaculate inside your tight cunt as it is a pleasure I have saved until now to make it extra special,”the bearded villain says, stroking her cheek with the tips of his fingers.
“How nice for you,” the Amazon pulls her head back with a jerk. You could take an ice pick to the sarcasm and it wouldn’t chip the block of hate that is Wonder Woman at the moment.
“Yes, well, I shall endeavor to make it nice for you as well, cherie.”
“Don’t bother. Just get it done with. And after that, what’s your plan? Turn me over to some slaver. Earn a million or two from some potentate willing to pony up for my unwilling body?”
“Perhaps. Let us play it be ear, shall we?”
“Ahh, no,” Diana says, the truth dawning on her with a cold uncomfortable light. “No slavery for me. You’re going to kill me like the others. Strangulation. That’s your M.O., isn’t it? I’m to end up dumped at some prominent public place.” Diana is strangely calm about all this. She realizes its been leading up to this all along. You don’t kill superheroines without wearing them down. And he’s very good at wearing down. She feels exhausted and spent. Maybe that’s why she can’t gather up the energy to be enraged. He’s pulled so much out of her today. But when she thinks of the other heroines he’s killed and all the college girls he’s played with, tested and then thrown away, then her rage builds. She trembles some now and Pascal simply takes it for fear. Until she speaks, that is.
“I don’t know how it will happen, Pascal,” she growls through bared teeth, “but I will see you in a cage before all this is done. That’s a promise, maggot!”
The Frenchman is unconcerned. “I do not see how you can continue to make such foolish threats when you have not been able to carry through on a single one of them all day, you moronic twat. And you try my patience, whore!” Pascal stands up again. “Now get up, I am looking forward to shoving my cock up your willing and open snatch, yes?”
Wonder Woman says nothing at this but merely puts out her hand so Pascal can help her rise. He does so and she uncurls without showing anything vital below the bright orange skirt. Still, her naked breasts shimmy slightly as she stands and she proudly holds up her head.
“Assume the position, slut.”
Wonder Woman puts her palms flat to the wall again.
“A little wider on the feet, my dear. I want the world to see how easily you are penetrated.”
The long beautiful legs, calves tight with toes pointed stretch out a bit more. The silky orange skirt drapes closely against the generous curves of Wonder Woman’s butt cheeks, showing off her ass with erotic perfection. Looking down at one of the most beautiful rear ends that God ever handed out, Pascal sucks in a deep breath and leans in, savoring the moment he is about to enjoy.
“Showtime, champ,” he declares and then backs up quickly. “Let us give the people a memorable show, my dear. That is what this is all about after all, n’est ce pas?”
“So the revenge for your sister’s death? That’s all bullcrap now I gather?”
“Thanks to your lasso bringing everything out in the open between us. It must be so.”
“I thought so, you lying toad. You never cared about her. It was always about you and your glory and your fame.” The Amazon tries to goad her captor into a frenzy so he finishes with her faster and possibly makes some sort of mistake.
“Keep talking, Wonder Woman. It will do you no good. I will still be the one fucking you on a world-wide broadcast. Tell me, do they get good broadband on Themyscira? I do so hope your mother saves it to a memory stick as my own stick drives up into your twat.”
Wonder Woman knows that there’s no Internet on Paradise Island. One of the few things she can be thankful for on this horrific day. But she also knows that word of what’s happening to her will get back to her mother eventually. She hopes to be able to explain things beforehand, but....she sighs heavily just as Pascal speaks.
“...And welcome back people,” Pascal says after pushing the app on his phone to pick up the live feed from the ceiling camera, on the phone’s split screen he sees the results of his auction and beams at the results: well over three-quarters of a million dollars. “I have just seen the totals and I am so pleased that over 26,000 of you have taken me up on my $29.99 offer. Plus another 10,000 of you purchased my photo sets. Oh, by the way, they make wonderful gifts for your sweethearts, guys. Sacre bleu! It will make them tres hot! The photo sets can still be purchased at the site but those of you watching right now have exclusive rights to the live content. You snooze you lose, as you Americans like to say. ”
Pascal’s back is to the ceiling camera now which is set on automatic mode. It captures his body pressed close behind the raven-haired Amazon in just her short skirt. His hands have been slowly caressing up and down her athletic, muscular body while he’s been speaking. For now she continues to mutely press against the wall with her outstretched arms and her head bowed.
“In any case,” Pascal continues, as his hands slide all over the unresisting beauty’s skin, fondling her breasts, caressing her neck, squeezing her ass, “it warms my heart and my bank account to have so many of you out there take me into your hearts. And for the compliant and beautiful Champion of All Women here to take me into her shaved and slippery snatch. Shall we get to it then?”
He takes one of his hands out from Wonder Woman’s barely damp pussy that he’s been rubbing briskly to get her excited. He puts his hand to his ear, his face still pointed away from the camera but the audio clearly picking up his voice. “What’s that? Is that the cheering of 26,000 fans I am hearing? Why, I believe it is!”
“Just get on with it, you disgusting maggot,” the furious Amazon growls.
“Maggot?” Pascal replies, sliding both hands under her thin skirt and grasping the insides of her thighs.
“Is that any way to address such a tender...”
Pascal pulls Wonder Woman’s thighs apart with a harsh yank, spreading her legs even further and causing the heroine to shift her palms quickly to keep her balance against the wall.
He quickly pulls down his fly and takes out his rock hard penis, shoving it roughly into her barely lubricated vagina.
The beautiful heroine grunts and bucks under the assault, her neck arching at the brutal act of the man’s stiff muscle being thrust deep within her once most sacred treasure .
He pumps his hips and his dick withdraws and then drives hard into her pussy once again. The silky skirt sways and flutters over the pronounced curves of Wonder Woman’s ass, defining it clearly as her cheeks jerk and wobble heavily under his thrust.
“ ...dedicated....attentive lover,” he says with a throaty rumble.
Hera! He’s up inside me already! I can’t believe it. Thought he’d work up to it more than just some fast caresses and pawing at my pussy! The man’s no better than a rutting dog!
Lifting her head, the Amazon princess utters her own rasping reply, “Love? You don’t know the meaning of the word, you swine.”
“I would not be so sure. I ‘love’ what I’m doing to you, hero. Now arch your back more and thrust out that fat ass of yours like a proper slut so I can get deeper into that tight snatch of yours, Wonder Woman,” he says for all the world to hear.
Grimacing, Wonder Woman reluctantly complies and gets yet another fierce, driving thrust of Pascal’s hot hard penis against her cervix for her troubles.
“Oh my goodness,” Etta Candy says with a rush of hot breath as she watches the computer monitor, “he’s relentless, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Steve says, sitting down suddenly in his rolling chair and sliding his lower half under the desk to hide the bulge in his pants. “I’m...I’m trying to see if there’s anything...uhmm.. ..identifiable in the surroundings to get a clue as to who this man is,” he stutters, staring hard at the monitor.
“Steve,” Candy says, putting her hand on his shoulder and pulling him back several inches with a firm grip, “you’re in the way!”
Gary Kramplitz sits on the high stool at the checkout table in the Heavenly Desires Adult Emporium. His eyes are glued to the newly-installed 54-inch television hung on the side wall beside the “Shoplifters will definitely be prosecuted” sign. Gary’s pupils are wide as saucers, as are the three pairs of eyes standing near him. Jamal, Jake and Roger Stephens, a businessman who is a regular customer, all now stand with their hands flat on the tops of magazines boxed on tables before them, their mouths agape.
The instant his friend had alerted him to a website supposedly rich with live Wonder Woman sex content, Gary had logged on and checked it out. When he saw scenes of a woman in a costume that was a dead ringer for the heroine who’d visited his store, he’d paid the subscription fee without hesitation. Now he was looking at that body and trying to confirm that it was the same babe. It sure looked like her. She had the same height and build. The tits were facing the wall right now so it was hard to be sure but they certainly appeared to be of equal size. You didn’t come across casaba melons of that quality everyday, even in a porno bookstore! What’s more, the earlier scenes showing her face looked like a perfect match, too. The real Wonder Woman had been captured somehow. And now she was actually having those magnificent hooters squeezed and that world-class snatch severely boned by some uptown executive, a decent-enough looking guy from what he could tell but no superhero type.
“Uuuh, did she just stick her ass out when he told her to,” Jake murmurs dully.
“Too right,” Jamal answers.
“Fuck!” Roger adds.
“I just can’t fucking believe what I’m seeing here,” Gary states flatly, transfixed by the sight of Wonder Woman being fucked by some tall guy right before his very eyes. “What makes this guy so fuckin’ special that he gets a slice of heaven on earth? Why ain’t that me,” he whines. “Maybe it’s not really her? Hey, Jamal, does that look like the exact same booty that sashayed out of here a few days ago?”
“The lord don’t hand out ass like that twice in my lifetime. That be her.”
The three customers stand in place, licking their lips, fingers twitching over the top edges of the boxed magazines, staring at the big-screen tv on the wall.
“Well, Mr. Rockleigh had me put up this tv to help DVD sales with free previews and shit,” Gary declares. “I’m gonna have to go to his apartment and kiss his ass when this is over. But I don’t care.”
“I’ll be there, too,” says Jake.
“You would,” snickers Jamal.
“Shut up, you two, he’s speaking, the guy doing Wonder Woman and my new hero...” Roger declares.
Back in the upper hallway of Pascal’s lovely brick townhouse in Chevy Chase, the tall distinguished owner of the residence, a well-known and respected member of the scientific community, continues to grind himself against Wonder Woman’s tired body. His suit jacket now lies on the floor off to the side. The back of his damp white custom-tailored dress shirt sticks to his sweaty back as he rubs his pelvis in a wide circle against the woman’s backside before he begins humping away once more at his beautiful prize. An overhead camera offers a close up of the man’s hips pumping back and forth. The orange skirt flaps up and down over the shapely curves of the tall beauty’s ass with every motion, blocking the view but clearly implying what is going on underneath.
And then the scene switches to a medium side view from down the hallway. It is an unforgettable moment: the tall man, obviously in command, so roughly forces himself against Wonder Woman’s body from behind that the black-haired heroine’s forearms, thighs and both knees press flat against the wall.
“Guuhnnn!...OHH!...Hunghh!” The audio is excellent. With each thrust comes a grunt from the heroine as her head rocks on her arched neck.
“...you sure...know how....to...romance...a lady...” Putting up a brave front, the Amazon warrior tries for blithe sarcasm.
“There’s no lady, here,” Pascal replies, a bit winded, “just some dumb slut in a skanky skirt having her field plowed...” He gives her a particularly jarring thrust of his cock at that moment “....and loving it.”
“..r...really...?...I...i...unnhh...can’t tell...if you ARE loving it, Frenchy,” Wonder Woman says with as bored a tone as she can muster. “Is..is there...something going...on back...there..?..”
Etta blurts out a barking laugh while the men watching in the book store all shout “The dude is soooo dissed” at the same time, grinning and loving the action.
Pascal has had both hands pressing on Wonder Woman’s hips while he’s been humping away at her. Now he takes his right hand and slides it up under the orange skirt. Hidden beneath the tiny swatch of clingy silk, his sweaty palm glides through the smooth valley between her warm cheeks, pausing on its way through the cleft to squeeze and caress the left buttock before pressing on through the tight space to reach the tiny clutched anus. His fingertip circles it once before Pascal buries his forefinger deep into her rectum, far past the second knuckle.
“HUNNGHH!” Wonder Woman’s eyes widen and her body jerks forward.
“Damn! Which hole was that?” Jake peers at the screen, his face scrunched up.
“I’m guessing her ass since he’s presently occupying her other one,” Roger the businessman answers, “but he could have gone for her clit. A lot of guys go for the clit since it gets the ladies wet and makes the ride smoother, if you get my drift.”
“Yeah, yeah, Romeo. Just shut up so I can hear that Amazon grunt,” Gary says, maxing out the tv’s volume control with his thumb.
“THERE IS A LOT GOING ON BACK HERE NOW, CHERIE. IS THERE NOT?”
“THAT’S TOO LOUD!” Jamal shouts.
“Sorry,” Gary says, adjusting the volume lower.
“...ih...if...you...s..say so...” Wonder Woman counters. But the long circling forefinger jammed as far as possible into her ass is adding a level of excitement to the moment that gives a huskiness to her voice that betrays her to Pascal and everyone watching her defilement.
“Oh, she DID enjoy that,” Etta says arching her own back subconsciously and looking at Steve.
“Yes, I’d say so,” Steve responds, not even looking at Etta. He is stunned by what he’s watching. It’s inconceivable. Wonder Woman didn’t get humiliated like this. He’d never seen her body looking so slack and defenseless. It hurt him to see it, as mesmerizing as it was to watch. “Uhhh...do you think they’re trying to locate this signal downstairs in Screening,” he adds, his eyes riveted to the screen.
“Do you want me to call them?” Candy’s tone is reluctant at best. She doesn’t want to miss a moment.
“No, no I’ll call Miller. And get him on it.” Steve reaches for his phone and misses it by more than six inches until he peels his eyes away from the screen and dials the extension.
“Global screening. Sergeant Miller here.”
“Are you getting a lock on this transmission of that website you told me about?”
“It’s bouncing all over the planet, Major. We haven’t been able to.”
“I’m sure it’s from the DC area.”
“Based on its strength that’s a probable, sir, but we can’t confirm it.”
“Get back to me the moment you do.”
“Jeez, did you see his wrist rotate?” Miller is talking to one of his nearby coworkers downstairs. “It looked like he fingered her a full 360 degree twist on that one,” he exclaims.
“Less watching and more spying sergeant,” Trevor counsels.
“I spy with my little eye....a heroine in trouble,” Miller says cavalierly.
“This is funny to you, sergeant?” Steve is incensed even though he understands the man’s fascination and his disconnect with reality. But that is a real person being subjected to this abuse and he makes his displeasure at the Sergeant’s attitude known
“OH! Sorry sir. No sir, I...uh..I’m on it, sir, Major... sir.” Miller hangs up quickly.
Steve replaces the handset on his end just as he hears Wonder Woman’s brief helpless squeal. Apparently the combined twisting finger buried in her rear end and the pleasurable friction of the tall man’s rapid humping is stimulating the Amazon considerably.
Indeed, having Pascal’s cock filling her pussy over and over and over and his finger circling round and round as well as pulling in and out of her rear has Wonder Woman inundated with pleasure. Her eyes are beginning to glaze over as she is continually filled and refilled by Pascal’s steely shaft.
“...ah...are... you..ughh...ha..having...a guh...good time...?...i...uh...c..can’t...tell...” Wonder Woman is trying to keep up her bravado but her breathy gasps give her away.
“That is complete nonsense, cherie. We both know you are warm and wet and slippery as a water slide at high summer. The only resistance I feel now is your wonderfully tight Amazon snatch gripping my dick as I take you like the whore you are.”
The Frenchman’s rear end is a blur as he pulls the nearly naked figure to him. His left hand holds her left breast in his palm as he continues to cornhole her balloon knot with his finger. He luxuriates in the feel of Wonder Woman arching her back before him and moaning helplessly as she is forcibly impaled by his pistoning dick.
“Ohhhhhh....okay...f...fi...fine.... you’re good. Okay? You’re vuh...v..very good... Now are you going to be a m..man and fuh...f..finish me...?” Wonder Woman wants it to be all over now. And if he has to spill his seed in her, he might as well do it and get it done with. She can’t do anything about it anyway. She doesn’t want her own excitement to crest and she’s having some difficulty now fighting against the incessant pleasure of his hot wide cock creating a world of friction between her thighs. The man does have game despite what she’s tried to imply. Much more of this and she will climax in front of the world, a shame she refuses to allow.
“Oh no, Wonder Woman. You do not get off that easily. And I mean that literally, cherie.”
The Amazon frowns at this news. As has been the case all day, Pascal has a plan that counteracts her own. She whines a bit over the fact that he’s thwarted her once again. It’s just a humming little squeak that she’s not getting her way but Pascal and everyone watching believes she’s upset and sexually frustrated that he won’t let her cum. She’s even implied as much.
“No, mon ami, there is more humiliation to follow. In fact, I think it is almost the time to lose this skirt, eh?” Pulling his finger out of her ass and taking it out from under her skirt, Pascal lifts up the silky orange garment’s back hem and once again he tucks the hem into the waistband. This reveals the view of himself impaled deeply within the famous Champion of All Women, his suit pants pressed up against her naked tush, an inch or two of his shaft that’s not buried in slippery cooze. He squeezes her bare tit slowly and says for the camera, “But perhaps a few more thrusts into you to show the world the fun things that have been going on under this skimpy little garment of yours, yes?”
Pascal starts up his thrusting again and smoothly slides his left hand around to the front of Wonder Woman’s pelvis and grips her inner thigh from there. His other hand fondles and caresses and mauls the Amazon’s huge tit meat in his wide palm. The overhead camera view now clearly shows the tall man’s penis sliding rapidly back and forth into and out of the fluttering labia fronting Wonder Woman’s vagina. For a full 40 seconds the screen is filled with this view, this repeating sequence of dick sliding home past quivering lips and into a passage rimmed by a tight gripping circle of pink. Over and over the sexual conquest replays to the sound of heavy breathing and both male and female grunting.
“Tight, wet....and....uughnnn....willing. N...nuh....nice....”
Then, like earlier, that view is replaced by the side view camera going live. With her body flattened against the wall, the famous raven-haired heroine is methodically and brazenly fucked in view of a huge international audience. At last, she offers no sarcastic jibes, no haughty attitude, no defense. The only sounds heard are of her fleshy unheld breast thumping against the wallboard; the repetitive squishy noise of flesh on flesh as Pascal’s cock saws in and out of her wet and open orifice; and the quiet repetitive slaps of his swinging balls knocking against Wonder Woman’s sweaty crotch.
And, of course, there are also the moans and sighs and whimpers of the Champion of All Women as she allows herself to be abused by a man who has so clearly and thoroughly outmaneuvered her and out-fought her all day. She merely rests her forehead against the wall now and lets him enjoy his stunning victory. And she prays to Hera not to give in to this growing sensation of unrestrained pleasure she feels building in her; not to climax. She cannot succumb in helpless irrational ecstacy to a man she hates. She will not.
More than 26,000 pairs of eyes that have paid for this privilege now watch with rapt attention at the incredible phenomenon on their screens. Wonder Woman is being totally and undeniably screwed. Exactly as they had been promised. And at only $29.99, she was dirt cheap.
End of Part 31