Wonder Woman and the Superheroine Serial Killer - Part 36  

Besides taking the shotgun out of the car’s trunk, Jimmy also reaches in for a set of long-handled bolt cutters which he hands to Sal. Together they walk quickly across the street, keeping an eye on the windows of the block-long warehouse for any movement, any watching sets of eyes. All seems very quiet as the evening turns from dusk to darker night. The streetlights are already on.

At the side door there is no chain, simply a locked door with a steel plate. Sal frowns and motions to Jimmy.

“Well, it would have been too easy if we just had to snap a bolt. Go that way and search for any way to get in. I’ll head around this way and we’ll meet on the other side.”

Jimmy nods as Sal walks off with the bolt cutters, feeling along the bottom edges of the first floor windows for gaps. The building is large enough that it takes eight minutes before the two detectives meet up on the opposite side of the warehouse.

“I got nothing,” Sal says.

“I got luckier. There’s a broken basement window. Follow me.”

Five minutes later, the slightly-mussed pair of cops have their guns drawn and are searching the warren of storage rooms in the huge basement. It’s just their bad luck that it’s not a huge open area with columns but a maze of steel storage bins. Fortunately they are chain linked fencing material and not solid steel so they can clear the huge basement in about eight minutes. But with five floors to go, this could take some time. And Sal is not liking the vibe he’s getting from the building at all. Everything seems too quiet. But if the website’s broadcast signal is coming from this location, they have to keep going.

“Basement’s clear,” he nods at his partner. I’m going to call Trevor.” Sal takes out his phone and frowns.“Great,” he scowls, “no fucking cell phone signal down here. Let’s check the first floor, maybe we’ll get luckier.”

“Maybe. The stairs are back there,” Jimmy shrugs his shoulders in the general direction.

Neither man is happy.


Wonder Woman’s body flattens hard against the mirror mounted to the study door as Pascal’s clothed body presses against her nearly naked form. Only her damaged belt remains along with a pair of cheap Wonder Woman costume panties clinging to her smooth round thighs. With slow, deliberate motions, his hard cock presses deep into her ass and then gradually withdraws, the patient Frenchman savoring every moment of his domination of the unresisting beauty.

“I am so pleased you are finally seeing the futility of trying to resist me, cherie. Is not this so much better, accepting your inevitable defeat?”

“...guess so...” the numb heroine mumbles, uncaring even as Pascal’s arms circle her waist and hug her. His hips thrust up hard as he hilts his prick deeply into her once again...and then twice more.

“...uugghhnn...hnnff....uuhh....”

“Certainly it feels better to me. To be able to ravish your body, to possess it so completely, to smell your scent and take you so completely while the world watches. This is heaven, no?”

“...for you...i...suppose...” Her body jerks upward yet again as the cock rams home, filling her ass with heat. Wonder Woman’s head turns to the side. She won’t look in the mirror. She can’t.

“Man, that dude’s filling Wonder Woman’s ass sumthin’ fierce,” Jamal says with envy, his wide eyes feasting at the incessant impalement of the six-foot beauty’s virtually naked body as her hips are slowly and continuously rocked against the mirror.

“Just look at those mashed titties bumping and wobbling,” Jake ogles. “I feel like a milkshake. Anyone else feel like they could use a milkshake?”

“A martini maybe. Shaken not stirred,” quips Roger.

“Good lord,” Steve blurts, “this is...he’s...he’s really doing this...” Steve pushes his chair closer under the desk. He is hard as a rock.

“I should say so...” Etta replies, feeling dewey down there. Again.

“I hope you remember this gift for the rest of your life, my dear,” Pascal says, gripping a smooth section of Wonder Woman’s mangled belt and rubbing it against her waist.

Dazed and confused, her tortured mind centering on the smooth motion of the hands against her belt, the Amazon is taken back in time. She finds herself reliving the moment when her mother wrapped the magic girdle around her waist during the presentation ceremony on Theymiscira. Diana had just won all the tournaments and was named the champion who would venture into Man’s World and fight for justice and the equality of women. It was one of the proudest moments of her life.

Diana’s face glows with the warmth of the tropical sun as her mother, Hippolyta, steps back and smiles at her daughter. The smile doesn’t quite reach the eyes, Diana notices. Then she realizes her mother never really wanted this for her. She wanted to protect her child and keep her close. And Diana, having craftily disguised herself and bested every one of her Amazon sisters, had won the right to become the emissary that she’d yearned to be. But the willful daughter was still the pride of her mother’s heart. And the two women share a touching moment, meeting each others gaze, both sets of eyes filled with all the promise, hope and faith that Diana would prove a beacon of hope for the Amazons and for females everywhere...

And now females everywhere were being shown the unbearable painful cost that comes with angering powerful, willful men. Wonder Woman is snapped harshly back into the here and now as her nose bangs against the mirror and she feels Pascal’s hot, hard penis drive hard to the core of her back channel.

“Aaugghhh!” She yelps, yanked into the harsh reality of a relentless assfucking. “Oww! ..st...stop....please...stop...” She sees nothing but her wild blue eyes wide with pain reflected back at her from the mirror shoved into her mashed face.

“Stop? Not likely, mon ami. I am just getting started.” Holding her belt in both hands, Pascal turns his head to the side, winks at a side camera in the room and thrusts his hips against the naked Amazon’s backside with a flurry of short hard jerks. “I mean, how often does one get to fill Wonder Woman’s ass with cock?”

“..Uuunggh!...Uuunggh!...Uuunggh!...Uuunggh!...”

Now the grunting heroine’s forehead bumps and slides along the mirror on a film of spent cum as she is roughly taken from behind. The man’s hard rod jams into her rear end over and over, making her tits shudder and her buttocks shimmy as her body is repeatedly jolted.

Wonder Woman closes her eyes, wishing herself away as Pascal’s grip slides up from her belt across her smooth belly and up to her breasts. The hands encircle them, palming them with warmth, gliding across their wide smooth spheres. Just as Artemis had once done. Her sister in combat, and her friend in the night, those secret lusty nights.....

“Oh, Diana, these are so marvelous, I can’t keep my hands off them,” Artemis smiles with a gleam of desire in her eyes and that’s matched by the shine on her quickly-licked lips. Her hands envelope the soft round globes as much their size will permit and she squeezes them with fingers made powerfully strong with hours of practice with bow and arrow. The firm delightful mauling continues for a spell before the clever fingers find the nipples at each breast point and slowly rub them until a gasp and moan flutter from Diana’s pursed lips.

“Mmmmhhh....” the Amazon princess coos, “you’re as deft with those fingers in the bedroom as you are on the archery field. “...mmm....more...” she pleads and her red-haired friend offers her gentle nips to her princess’ brown nipples with her teeth, then rubbing them with her lips and finally circling them with her tongue to bring a squeal of delight from Diana.

Bringing playful combat to the sheets, Diana’s hands dive for Artemis’ patch of red fluff between her legs and combs her fingers roughly through it, tugging to tease then holding firm while diving in with tongue and teeth at the furrowed prize below.

“Oh, you she-devil. That’s not fair!” The redhead yelps with glee as her crotch is savaged by that same devilish tongue and eager teeth. The princess of the Amazons is relentless and lovingly cruel, battering at Artemis’ defenseless pussy for blissful minutes until the red pony-tail jerks hard, her green eyes roll back and the young warrior shudders in a helpless wet rush of glory. Diana is in mid-laugh when her powerful friend’s grip on her nipples tightens down hard, unexpectedly brutal for such an accomplished lover.

“Aaarrghh! That hurts!” Diana cries out loudly.

“Oh, does it, Wonder Woman?” Pascal’s mocking sarcasm and warm breath in her ear jolts the heroine back to the awful present with a shock of pain. Her nipples sting with the compression of them between uncaring fingers even as the Frenchman’s cock drives deep into her ass.

“Uuunggghhh!”

“Tell me, should I be more tender, hero?” He gradually pulls his dick out of her rear, so slowly that the Amazon warrior can’t help feeling every backsliding inch of his hard warmth. “Like that perhaps? Should I play the lover you yearn to feel between these rubbery cheeks?”

This isn’t lovemaking in any sense but rather pure hatred in the form of a slow furious dick making its anger felt. And then the return thrust comes. Hard, fierce, demanding. It is followed by three more. The searing hot shaft plows deep into her rear so it draws a cry from Wonder Woman as she is pounded into submission.

“Aiee! Ow...ohhhhh...”

“What, no clever comebacks, hotshot? Is the piercing fire of the foe who has bested you like a raping Mongol with his trophy peasant girl too much for you?” A final driving thrust to her ass brings a jolt and a grunt to the beauty shoved hard against her own reflection. “Well, sorry, bitch but no compassion for you today. Today you reap the whirlwind.”

Pascal’s hands, balled into fists, suddenly push against the inner edges of her ass cheeks. He pushes them wide apart as he returns to the almost slow-motion withdrawal of his penis from her cavity, drawing it out of her in centimeter increments as her palms and her face press hard against the slippery glass and she sighs with the breath of total abandonment, of lost hope. He is too strong for her. She can fight him no more than she could fight the Minotaur of Crete whose hooves felt so much like the fists now shoving her ass apart. The helpless desire to simply let him have his way feels so familiar, so tempting to merely submit her body to the hard, heaving physique behind her...

The Minotaur bellows in victory as his huge phallus drives home into Diana’s ass. She had fought the man-beast bravely and fiercely across the rocky terrain of that dark maze. Giving no measure, showing no pity. Nor he with her and in the end, her sword was knocked into the dirt and she as well, driven to her knees by his endless strength and canny fighting skill. The man part and the beast part had combined to overwhelm her with brains and brute strength.

After that it was a savage, frenzied coupling in which she had no say. She remembers it vaguely, dazed at the time. But the repetition of that scene in her mind in the intervening years has burned its path from mind to heart.

He is pulling off her briefs. The blue fabric and white stars shred like tissue paper in his hands. Her feminine treasures are revealed in the flickering light of the nearby torch set in the iron ring embedded in the stone wall. Bleary from his smacking hoof to her head during the fight, she lies on the cavern floor, incapable of resistance. He yanks down her top, rending it to ribbons as well and then falls upon her with bright animal eyes tinged with cunning humanity.

He is enormous and undeniable, a force of nature beyond all she has ever known. He kneels before her and pushes her limp legs over her head so both holes are spread like a tasty buffet before him. Her unfocused fluttering eyes show his form leaning forward and he chooses the rear hole: the cavity of shame, the one chosen by heartless victors needing undeniable proof of their dominance. There is a sloppy spread of wetness on her exposed rectum that can only be the beast’s thick drool.

His girth fills her to capacity and beyond. The fluttering eyelids spring wide and her mouth gapes in a squeal of agony. A shaft no smaller than Zeus’ lightning staff has struck her to the core. And it begins to move within her. Back and forth it plunges while his huge arms pin her ankles to the dirt beside her ears. Here at least the maze’s floor is not rock but soft loam where water once pooled. Now it is a bed of softness that cradles Diana’s body as she is jolted over and over by the lowing beast on top of her.

He owns her completely and the friction of his tool and the savage pleasure it spreads cannot be refused. The pain of his girth eases greatly now and the glistening drool is joined with the steady flow of delight from Diana’s loins. His muscles press down on her body, an impossible weight she cannot budge at this awkward position. Soon, she is nearly a mindless thing, centered only on the sensation of her rear channel being pummeled to a quaking tunnel of fleshy paradise. Ecstacy wells from within her as his hefty swinging sack slaps against her rear. There is no fighting this feeling. Her ass blooms with heat, a rushing now in her ears. The beast’s heavy panting as he pushes into her sounds like the huge bellows used to keep Hera’s son, Hephaestus’ hearth blazing hot enough to forge weapons for the gods. The rawness of the sound coming from his throat matches her own as she rises to the height of the hill before that endless plunge into pleasure.

All the pressure on her, the weight, the bulk of him, his mighty phallus, it would all be devastating, possibly even fatal to her if not for the girdle he’d left around her waist. She feels it tugging into the sandy floor of the cavern even as her breath catches and she freezes in absolute joy of the finest sexual peak she’s ever reached.

“...you...sound....like you’re...enjoying this....Wonder Woman...” Pascal’s hoarse rasping taunt drags the Princess of Themyscira back to her own private hell as he yanks on her mangled belt and pulls himself into her ass – over and over now with a demonic frenzy.

“...what....i....whuh....ohhhhh..... no...no....whuuuh....?.....”

Wonder Woman stares into the mirror a foot away as Pascal holds a hunk of her hair in one hand and her ruined belt in the other. Her cum-smeared face is accented by a incredibly stupid smile and blue dreamy eyes filled with absolute lust.

The befuddled and frantic heroine tries to pull away in a final desperate attempt to escape but with each pull forward or to the side, Pascal counters it with a responding yank of her belt. This tug of war just causes his dick to plunge into her once, twice and then several times more and the incredibly arousing friction coupled with the fresh memory of the Minotaur’s prowess brings the final swell of inescapable sweet release. Wonder Woman’s eyes flutter and her vision blurs with a rush of ecstacy she can’t escape. Her orgasm is thunderous and wet.

“HUUUUUUNNNGGGGHHHHHH!”

Her crotch sprays silvery with her pleasure, the very juice of her orgasm spritzing across her legs, spraying Pascal’s thighs and her own, running down her calves and dripping onto the floor. All the while showing the world how Wonder Woman cums.

Pascal gives a show of his own, his face tightening to rigid, the muscles in his lean neck straining like tent cords, his fists shaking as he holds on for dear life to the Amazon’s hair and belt as his cock erupts like Vesuvius inside her.

“OHHH! MANNNNNNN!” Pascal shouts. His pulsing dick sends hot jets of semen deep into Wonder Woman’s ass, causing several shivering after-shocks of pleasure within the heroine. A generous new gush of silvery delight runs down her trembling legs.

“OH. OH. OH.” The Frenchman yells out his unending pleasure as he jerks in place, continuing to flood the Amazon’s rear cavity with his seed. Mindless, he yanks on the dark mass of hair and pushes it forward in his excitement, slamming the moaning beauty’s forehead into the mirror.

CRACK! Tinkle! Crash!

The mirror shatters, breaking into wide shards that fall to the floor in a cascade of flashing silver that mimics the cum draining down the heroine’s leg. And Wonder Woman’s world crashes to pieces as well. She had come to a huge raging orgasm in the grasp of this evil monster, her very belt, the supposed symbol of her mighty power and a gift of the gods themselves, had helped to cause her ultimate humiliation.

She has no reason to live. Everything she is, everything she had worn in her fight for justice and equality had been used against her, toys to degrade her, obscene objects to mock her dignity. Nothing can be saved from this ash heap of her soul. She is shattered beyond measure and her brain gives her release by shutting down completely. Wonder Woman falls off Pascal’s shrinking cock in a tumbled heap on the floor of the study, her eyes white, her face worn and soiled, her ass dripping with the thick fluids of her conqueror. Pascal zips up, looking down at the Champion of All Women with a leer.

“Mon dieu, that went well.”


The first, second and third floors of the warehouse proved no more fruitful to Sal and Jimmy than the basement. Plenty of time is lost searching a combination of open spaces of floors with nothing but empty columns and stacked pallets as well as locked offices, boarded up storage containers and utility rooms. It’s Sunday evening now, around 8:25 and not a peep to be heard. With every floor searched, Sal feels that this whole endeavor is nothing but a wild goose chase. In fact, the entire day felt like that. Frustrated, Sal stops his search of the fourth floor and calls Steve Trevor.

“Major, it’s Sal Abato. What’s happening with Wonder Woman and this Pascal guy?”

“It’s not good Detective,” Steve replies, his voice filled with concern. “She seems disoriented and frankly she’s now being sodomized by this guy. Are you at that warehouse searching everywhere?”

“We are, Trevor, but it doesn’t feel right to me or my partner. You’re convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that the website signal is coming from this location?”

“I am and so are my men.”

“I can’t see the website, obviously, Major. Does it look like warehouse surroundings?”

“No. I wouldn’t say that, Abato. More like a home. A nice upper class residence.”

“Fuck! Damn it to hell, we were on the way to Pascal’s residence when you sent us here, Major.”

“That is precisely where the signal is coming from. Have you searched the whole building?”

“No, but it’s not...”

“Maybe he retrofitted the warehouse to look like a residence. I don’t know, Abato, but I wouldn’t leave there until the whole place is searched.”

“That could cost us even more time, Trevor! What about Wonder Woman?”

“She can take care of herself. Despite how things look. She always seems to get away. Take the extra time to be sure about that building, detective.”

“I’ll do it, Trevor but if you think getting fucked in the ass is taking care of herself, maybe you should try it sometime!” Sal snaps his old model flip phone shut with an angry click. “Come on, Jimbo. We’ve got two more floors to waste our time with.”

“Whatever you say, partner,” Jimmy says, shaking his head.


Rene Pascal stands over Wonder Woman’s motionless fallen figure after returning from washing his face and hands in the bathroom off his office. Her breasts rise and fall in slow even breaths so she is not physically distressed. Mentally, he’s not sure what the story is. She seemed to be very disassociated at times while he was plugging away at her ass. And that final few moments after she came, she seemed nearly catatonic. He didn’t think he’d given her a concussion by knocking her head against the mirror but he squats down beside her to check her forehead that’s tilted to the side on a Persian area rug where she fell. At least her whole body didn’t collapse on the rug. The cum dripping out of her butthole at least was only dripping on the wood parquet flooring, not ruining it like the carpet where Flare burned it. Heroines: what were you supposed to do with them? They never seemed to care about other people’s property. The bitches!

There’s only the slightest bump and patch of red on Wonder Woman’s forehead. Pascal slaps her cheeks with some energy behind it.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Wake up. It is time to go downstairs. Wakey, wakey!” He pinches her nipple for good measure.

“....ohhhhhh......” The once mighty champion rubs a dangling sliver of drool from the corner of her mouth and her eyelids open with almost creaking slowness. “...whut...whuh...?...” Her head stays pinned to the carpet, her brow furrowed.

“Get up, Princess. I am taking you back down to the lab.”

“..whut...where..?..”

“My lab. Where all the fun happens. Come on, lard ass,” Pascal says, taking her elbow and trying to pull her to her feet. “Rise and shine.”

“...whuzza point...?...” The Amazon is a dead weight on the floor of the study, unwilling to make any effort.

“The point is I said so, your highness. And I am the king of this castle. Move it!” He leans over and clocks Wonder Woman with a hard bitch slap to her left cheek.

“OWW! Alright...okay...I’m...i’m...getting ....up...” she says, weighted down by all that’s happened to her today. She awkwardly struggles to get to her hands and knees, obstructed somewhat by the tight blue and white panties gripping her thighs. Wonder Woman’s mental discipline is ruined. She can’t focus and doesn’t care about anything. Driven only by pain and her need to avoid it, she tries once again to get to her feet but topples over onto her side. Pascal looks down at her and shakes his head.

“You are pathetic,” he says to her dazed and drifting pale blue pupils. They don’t show any light behind them and the once world-renowned beauty lies there in a funk trying to figure out what this man wants from her.

“Look at that cow-faced moron,” Gary declares, his elbows on the counter with his palms cupping his face. “She couldn’t put two and two together with a calculator.”

“The light’s definitely out in that attic,” Roger agrees.

“Bitch be toast,” Jamal adds.

“Fucked in the ass and fucked in the head. It ain’t her day,” Jake sums up.

“Serves her right, the arrogant cunt,” Gary says, now waving at the tv screen. “Always thinking she’s better than everybody. Now she’s no better than the town slut. Dumb as shit and an easy lay. That’s your super hero now, fellas. A pretty face suited for sucking cock, a blazing hot bod fit for fuckin’ and nothing more to say about her.”

Wonder Woman tries to get to her feet again but Pascal put his hand on her shoulder and pins her on her hands and knees before she can rise any further.

“No, cherie. That ship has sailed. If you do not want to stand then you can crawl. Do it or I will beat you with this strap until you bleed. Understand?”

“...yes...” murmurs the withdrawn, severely depressed heroine.

“Yes sir, you mean.” He snaps the leash’s circled handhold against the bridge of Wonder Woman’s nose and she yelps in pain then lowers her head.

“...yessir...” she answers.

“Good, now follow me, bitch. We are going for a walk.” Pascal takes the red patent leather leash in hand, wraps it around his fist as is his style and he yanks hard on the strap. Wonder Woman topples to her forearms, her ass high in the air. Quickly seizing the opportunity, Pascal touches a key on the cell phone now in his hand and one of the cameras zooms in for a close up of the Champion of All Women’s semen-dripping ass.

“Is that his...I mean..is her ...uh..rear end...leaking his...you know...?...” Etta’s face is pink.

“Well...um...yes...Etta...I’m afraid so.” Steve looks at the IADC Sergeant and frowns but he can’t help notice the perspiration gathered at her temples. For himself, he’s ready to fuck a watermelon if it came to that.

Surreptitiously, he gives Etta a good hard appraising look. Hmmm, I wonder.

“Come on, get up you dumb bitch,”Pascal commands. “Time for walkies!” Holding the leash high and pulling Wonder Woman’s head up with a snap, Pascal moves forward and the choking, bewildered beauty is forced to follow him, scrambling on her hands and knees.

“Watch the broken glass, girl. Don’t want to hurt those paws of yours.”

On all fours, the mighty Amazon warrior scurries along, circumventing the broken mirror as best she can while being pulled along by her “owner.”

He opens the door to his study and heads into the carpeted hallway, pulling on her leash with urgent tug and a “come along, my pet” every now and then as they make their way along the hall. The hallway camera picks up the view of Wonder Woman rear end from behind. Her wide cheeks sway and shift, wobble and bump as she crawls quickly along the carpet. With the phony costume panties gripping her thighs, her speed is impeded but the sashay of her rump is accentuated. The camera following her progress doesn’t miss a trick, capturing every side to side wiggle, every fold of her pussy, every oozing droplet of cum pushing out of her balloon knot with HD clarity as she travels the 30 feet between Pascal’s office and the upstairs bedroom.

From around her waist, the shine off of the famous belt’s twisted, scored and badly damaged edges glimmers occasionally as the Champion of All Women is walked like a pet bitch to her doom. The camera focusing on her face is fed to the site as Pascal slows his pace near the end of the walkway. The heroine’s head nods dully, her lidded eyes, flat and spiritless, focus simply on the carpet as the obedient beauty just waddles along, trying to keep her balance and wondering if she was going to have to eat out of a dog food dish. She realizes she may have to.

The man and his new pet walk through the sparse bedroom until they reach the elevator.

“Okay, bitch. Let’s lose the panties. Sit on your rear and take them off nice and slow. Give the folks at home a show.”

Curling around to sit on her haunches, Wonder Woman brings her knees to her chest and pushes the tight blue undies up her thighs and then over and down past her knees. She lets them go and they fall past her calves into a puddle around her feet. But when she lifts her right leg and leans forward to pull the silky garment off her foot, the dazed and distracted heroine overbalances badly. She goes toppling over to her right, her arms collapsing to the sides. Her right knee bangs against the hardwood floor with her left knee still fixed high in the air. Pascal takes an immediate step around, touches a button on his app and uses his cell phone camera as the main feed for the website. He shoots the view of Wonder Woman’s pussy gleaming pink and wide as she lies immobile on the floor, distressed at her clumsiness. The sudden movement has forced a final thick dollop of cum to spurt out of her ass and glimmer white and damning in the shot. In the background, the view and sound of heavy tits slapping and jiggling completes the humiliating view.

Looking up at Pascal with worried eyes for perhaps doing something deserving of another nasty snap of the leash to her face, Wonder Woman is relieved to see him smiling from behind his cell phone. He gives her a very pronounced wink and says in a clear and masterly tone, “That’ll do, pig.”


Jimmy Glendennan presses his back up against the sheet rock wall and holds his gun up with one hand, muzzle at the ceiling. He holds his small penlight against his leg, aiming it at the floor as he prepares himself to launch his body around the corner at the loud bang he’s just heard. He’s sweating with a combination of fear and tension and the steady physical exertion of clearing a huge 130,000 square-foot building floor by floor. His partner Sal is off in another part of the huge fourth floor of this apparently abandoned warehouse continuing to search for Wonder Woman or this sadistic French prick Rene Pascal. Jimmy doesn’t think anyone’s in this dump but he can’t be absolutely certain. And that crash he’s just heard could be important. Gearing up his nerve, the Irish detective takes a breath and mutters to himself.

“It’s probably nothing. The wind through a broken window...”

Swinging around the corner, Jimmy sets his feet and brings his right arm up in a crouched shooting stance and faces a corner of the building crowded with shadows. The thickly- grimed windows allow very little illumination from the streetlights outside. But the penlight cuts a small hole through the dark and Jimmy sees the sudden movement of a small form dashing to the left. He swings the beam after it but it’s gone. And then before he can swing the light back toward the corner, two more small figures rush out of the dark right at him, screaming at the top of their lungs. Splitting up and flashing past him, the feral cats speed away, yeowling behind him now as Jimmy shouts out a loud exasperated, “FUCK!”

“Trouble, detective?”

Jimmy spins around and almost puts a bullet into his partner who is standing there shining his own penlight right into Jimmy’s eyes.

“Fuck, Sal!!!” Jimmy squawks, turning his head away. He starts taking deep calming breaths, between curses and complaints. “....creeping up on me like that...” “...stupid damn cats should have their guts turned into tennis rackets...” “...waste of our damn time....”

“You’re right about that, partner. But this floor’s clear and just one more to go. Let’s get it done as fast as possible. No matter what those clowns at IADC say, there’s nothing here. They’ve screwed this up and Wonder Woman may end up paying for it with her life.”

“And I just lost a year of mine with those fuckin’ cats scaring the piss out of me.”

Sal shines the light at Jimmy’s crotch and smiles as he says, “That may be but your adult diapers are doing their job.”

“Moron,” Jimmy scowls, turns and heads toward the stairs with the sounds of Sal’s chuckling following behind him.


“Stand up, Wonder Woman.”

Pascal stands over the virtually naked Amazon and looks down on her with smug satisfaction. He’s beaten her absolutely in body and spirit. A thick clot of his cum marks the floor between her thighs in a messy white clump as she sits there shaking. Her demeanor is one of a frightened cur.

After toppling over in such an ungainly way, flashing her pussy to his hand-held phone camera, the befuddled beauty has just stayed in place, looking up at her captor with worried eyes. Pascal jerks the leash and this snaps her chin up with a click of her teeth. “Get up and get in the elevator. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

The beautiful heroine unfurls her amazing body and awkwardly gets to her feet, steadying herself with a hand on Pascal’s shoulder as she sways in place. Only minutes ago she’d been roughly ass-fucked and been harshly head-butted into a mirror hard enough to crack it into pieces. And then she’d been walked like a dog, made to crawl down a 30-foot hallway on her hands and knees.

Wonder Woman had been vaguely aware at the time that she’d been recorded doing this but she didn’t know that the feed hadn’t just gone to the subscribers who’d paid the $29.99 fee. Instead, Pascal had fed that humiliating view of her making that forced crawl to the entire set of visitors to the site to help build an audience. Over 3.7 million visitors had watched that walk of shame.

Now she wavers in docile confusion before Pascal and a massive world-wide audience, her tits and pussy on display, her eyes heavily lidded and her posture that of a thoroughly vanquished opponent. The useless belt around her waist, her only apparel, is giving her no strength, no energy, no hope whatsoever. The mangled gold girdle has let her down completely this day. It only offered enough strength at times it seemed to keep the punishment from causing critical injury yet not enough to let her fight back. Diana’s hand drifts down to it, rubbing it surface as if trying to coax life from it like Aladdin rubbing his lamp. The magic is gone though and Pascal jerks the leash once again as the elevator door slides open.

“Get in,” he commands and she does as he releases the leash. Wonder Woman walks slowly and unsteadily to the rear of the cab, turns around and stands there with her hands hanging at her sides, simply looking at the floor, mute and obedient. He reaches around and pulls out the red “Stop” key to keep the elevator doors open and in hold mode. Turning, he looks up at a nearby ceiling-mounted camera and smiles widely.

“Okay, madames and monsieurs, ladies and gentlemen, we will be taking a short break while I transport our lovely companion downstairs to a very special location for some more very enticing sex play. In fact, the famous Wonder Woman will be donning a clear rubber catsuit, she will be hung from the ceiling in a PVC strap harness, and she will be stimulated to at least two rousing orgasms for your viewing pleasure. And after that I will introduce some very erotic asphyxiation stimulation for your entertainment.”

His eyebrows arch and wiggle at this and then he takes out his handheld camera, pointing it at the famous heroine standing in the elevator. She is listing slightly, her eyes vacant and her mouth slack. The bright red leather leash dangles between her bare breasts with the looped handle lightly brushing against her left inner thigh and then the right.

“Why is she just standing there, Steve, doing nothing?” Etta’s voice is high pitched, her plump face drawn tight with worry. “Doesn’t she realize she’s naked, exposed to the world like this?”

“She looks totally out of it. Almost catatonic. I’ve never seen her look so beaten.”

A tiny drop of blood from a cut sustained by Wonder Woman’s forehead smashing against the mirror in Pascal’s study drips down the side of her face and she doesn’t even lift a hand to tend to it. Pascal beams that image to the world and then turns off the handheld, shifting the scene to the nearby overhead camera which he addresses with a gleam of delight in his eyes. But then he gives the camera a well-practiced frown. He’s planned this moment well in advance.

“Sadly, my friends, I have neglected to install a camera feed in this elevator,” he says. Neglect has nothing to do with it. Greed is the driving force here. “This means that there will be five minutes of down time before the show resumes. But let us use that time constructively, shall we? You will have five minutes to decide if you want to spend an additional fee required to access that very arousing presentation. The extra non-refundable fee comes to a mere $69.95. Those who pay it will be very glad they did. Those who cannot afford it will be able to purchase high-quality captioned screen captures after the fact for the reasonable amount of $14.95 for two 20-picture sets.” Pascal smiles at the camera at this juncture.

“Why does it cost five dollars more than the earlier photo sets? The erotic content will be greater. More full-body views will be seen. More exotic positions will be offered. And, because I say so. It is a seller’s market, my dear friends, and I am holding the goods.”

Pascal points to elevator and the scene merely shows the side view with Wonder Woman hidden inside the cab. “And now that Wonder Woman is out of the picture for the next five minutes, that should help you realize just how much you’ll miss our lovely companion if you don’t continue with us for the next incredible installment. But enough marketing hype, the site will shift to the option screen during this five minute period. The clock will show the countdown. When it is over, those who pay the fee will continue to enjoy the show, those who don’t pay can continue to review all the other purchase options. Choose well, my friends. I assure you, you will not be disappointed.”

Pascal flashes a thumbs up sign and is about to walk in to the elevator when he pauses and turns to the camera once more.

“Oh, one more thing, my friends. You may or may not have noticed that there is a small link to a comments area at the very bottom of the home page. It is kind of easy to miss with all the distracting photos of the naked Wonder Woman looming above it, but if you click on it, I would love to hear from you all and how you are enjoying the experience. I will even share some of the better ones perhaps in a slow moment later on. Try to be clever and creative. Anyway, see you in five minutes. The clock starts now. Au revoir.”

With a wave to the camera, Pascal walks into the elevator, resets the elevator to Go mode and pushes the button for the basement. He stands side by side with the naked Amazon beauty as the doors slowly slide shut. Everything about the elevator was slow: the doors, the rate of descent, the slow hum of machinery working at its own pace.

Wonder Woman is now looking up at the numbers above the door. 3-2-1-B. Right now the 2 was lit. They were going down. Very slowly.

“Ah, at last, some precious alone time, cherie.” He takes the leash in his hand as he turns to face her. She doesn’t take her eyes off the overhead numbers and he shrugs and speaks.

“Not in the mood for conversation?”

Nothing but silence from the heroine whose gaze remains fixed over the door. Pascal turns back to face the front of the cab and smirks to himself.

“Etta, watch the screen clock. I’ll get my wallet for this fee.”

“You’re going to fund this bastard’s evil plan?”

“Hell no. The IADC will. Have to. We need to stay abreast of what happens.” Steve dashes out to retrieve his uniform jacket from the break room.

“Abreast, huh? More like two breasts,” scoffs Etta. But she’s excited and uneasy to see what will happen next.

“Okay, you clowns, pony it up,” says Gary as the clock ticks under the four minute mark. “You’re not buying any magazines. You’re all just standing here drooling and itching to pull your puds! I ain’t going to finance your sex dreams!”

“You fuckin’ cheapskate,” Jamal barks. “This is like a national holiday. You ought’a be funding this for customer goodwill and shit.”

“You know, Jamal, my man, you’re right,” Roger chimes in. “It does feel like a holiday. And I’m feeling flush right now.....”

“Not in my store you don’t,” snaps Gary. “Go whack off in the alley!”

“You misunderstand me, you dumb hick,” Roger replies calmly. “I’ve had a good week of sales and am feeling flush with funds. I will pay the full fee for all of us. My treat.”

“Hey, thanks, Rog,” Jake says, pumping Roger’s hand enthusiastically. “That’s mighty white of you.”

“What he said,” Jamal grins.

“Give me your credit card, dickwad, time’s only got two minutes left.”

“Your welcome, Gary,” sighs Roger, handing his card over for processing. Gary runs the card through the site’s payment screen with only half a minute to spare.

“I hear that they are expecting some rain later tonight,” Pascal comments like they’re just two strangers in mall elevator passing a quiet moment before rushing to sale on home furnishings at Ikea. “Going to be a real drenching. We could get a inch or so.”

The naked swaying heroine says nothing. She just watches the numbers. Her brain has gone into neutral. She’s just waiting for the 1 to light up next.

“How about some music?” Pascal pushes a blue button marked M on the very bottom of the steel plate and the cab is suddenly filled with soft urgency.

“Help! I need somebody. Help! Not just anybody. Help. You know I need someone....”

The Beatles offer mocking commentary to Wonder Woman’s plight while Pascal hums along. His eyes flicker brightly over the delicious curves of the bare-assed Champion of All Women even as the irony escapes her dulled faculties.

Pascal hadn’t programmed the song in. It was pure happenstance it’s come up on the tape loop at this moment. Still, the Frenchman now knows with absolute certainty that the universe approves of what he’s doing here. The moment is too good not to savor it. He looks to the side at the tall, wavering Amazon beside him. Her shoulders are slumped forward, her tits hang quietly still, their nipples slightly stiff from the cool air circulating around them. The lethargic beauty is gazing up at the numbers without a thought in her pretty head it seemed. Pascal begins to softly sing along with the music being piped into the elevator.

“And now my life has changed in oh so many ways. My independence seems to vanish in the haze...” He nudges the befuddled beauty and lifts his eyebrows. “Sound like anybody you know, cherie? Maybe a little lost heroine on a leash perhaps?” He gives the leash a sharp tug and Wonder Woman stumbles to the side into Pascal. He gives her breast a good squeezing before setting her up straight again. The heroine straightens her back a bit, standing taller now as she returns her gaze to the numbers. The number 1 is finally lit.

“But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,” the Frenchman croons. “Now I find I've changed my mind...and now I’m just a whore.”

Wonder Woman’s head swivels slowly to the side and a spark of life glistens there.

“Don’t! Do not....mock me,” she says with a quiet defiance, her eyes bearing down on his.

“But you are so mockable, cherie,” Pascal answers, completely unintimidated by her. “Standing there naked with your useless power belt. Your ass dripping with my cum. Tell me you are not!”

“I...I am an Amazon princess.” Wonder Woman’s chin juts forward. The dullness in her expression is dissipating at last.

“You were. I am not sure what you are now. Sloppy seconds? Throw-away thirds? Flabby forgotten fourths? You are certainly not the Champion of All Women anymore. Your days as a role model for young girls around the world is over, cherie. Everyone has seen you suck my dick; they’ve watched you take my cock in your tight cunt and scream with the pleasure of it; they’ve heard you admit to loving the feel of being fucked in the ass and swearing I am your best.”

“Second best,” Wonder Woman answers sullenly, intently watching the numbers until the B is lit. The destination of the basement and Pascal’s laboratory doesn’t even fill her with dread at this stage. The Amazon warrior has accepted her defeat at this man’s hands. Every step of the way he has bested her. Again and again without fail she has proven the lesser of them in her tactics and her will. From his power to overwhelm her with her own lasso to the ultimate disgrace of him turning every other item of her uniform against her to his own advantage and her everlasting shame, he has proven himself her superior. Were she to fight or resist anymore it would merely bring additional dishonor to every living Amazon. She won’t do that again. She will go to her death with dignity from here out, no matter how cruel or painful or protracted the experience.

“I stand corrected. Bettered by a steer. However will I live it down?”

“You could practice on cows.” The Amazon hopes to goad him into killing her in a frenzy but he just chuckles and tugs her leash gently.

“You vixen.”

At last the B above their heads lights up and the doors slowly part revealing the storeroom of the basement.

“We have arrived. March forward, my pet. I believe you know the way to the laboratory.”

Wordlessly, Wonder Woman strides toward his domain and her certain doom with a calmness that is a quiet center to her world now. She is to die here today. Were Detectives Abato and Glendennan to even arrive at this point, the Frenchman would have a way to deal with them. He was that prepared. That good. The relentlessness of the man might be admired if she didn’t hate him with every fiber of her being.

Wonder Woman and the Superheroine Serial Killer part 36