Wonder Woman: Trial by Ordeal
by marat
Chapter Two
Diana Prince drove slowly through the crowded streets of Georgetown, making her way home after a slow Wednesday at the naval intelligence offices at the Pentagon. Much of the day had been spent in water-cooler chatter about the burglars arrested in the Watergate. The latest news report, or the most recent rumor, quickly made its way 'round the office. But it soon became old news.
As she pulled in at her driveway, and parked behind Penelope's Datsun pickup, she noticed in the rearview mirror the late-model Chevrolet with dark tinted windows that was parked across the street. The driver's-side window was down and the man seated there stared directly at her.
As she stepped out of the car, she looked up at the windows of her first-floor apartment. She saw Penelope's back firmly pressed against the side window of the living room. Behind her, in the shadow, Diana saw the flight of stairs that went up to the loft and the bedroom. Penelope wasn't moving, and she seemed to be trying to squeeze her body through the window and into the driveway.
Someone was in the apartment, threatening her roommate! Diana's eyes flew wide open at the sight and the thought that her home had been invaded. To her right, she saw the curly-haired figure that had been seated in the dark Chevy emerge from the large vehicle and walk determinedly across the street toward the driveway.
She turned and made for the back of the building, her usual entrance to the apartment, and where she could find the opportunity to transform into her alter ego, Wonder Woman. She pushed open the door and raced down the stairs to the basement.
The underground storage area was used by tenants for suitcases, bits of furniture that didn't fit into their apartments, even the odd appliance, all closed off in caged areas off a central walkway. During the day, when much light from outside splashed through the ground-level windows along one wall, it was light enough to easily move from one end of the corridor to the other. Diana ran quickly up the passage to an alcove at the far end. There, dropping her handbag, she spun into the star-spangled form of the Champion of All Women.
The powerful Amazon emerged and walked slowly toward the door she had, only moments before, entered as Diana Prince. The three-inch heels of her boots clicked lightly along the smooth cement floor. As she approached the end of the passage, Wonder Woman turned her keen hearing in the direction of the entry, where the door was still slightly ajar, listening intently for any indication that her pursuer was waiting for her on the far side. She stopped, straining to hear any sound.
There was nothing.
Wonder Woman moved quickly to the door and opened it. The empty stairway leading up to the ground-level entrance was all that greeted her. Suddenly, she remembered. Penelope!
Racing up the stairs three at a time, she reached her first-floor apartment in mere seconds. The Amazon Princess carefully opened the door. She had seen her roommate pressed against the window above the driveway, which would be to her right. She would have to fully enter the apartment to see that area, since the opening door would shield everything in that part of their residence.
The beautiful heroine stepped quickly into the living area, flooded with sunlight in the late afternoon, pouring in through the large window at the front of the building, and closed the door behind her. Turning to her right, she saw nothing. Penelope was gone.
'Penelope! Are you here?' she called out.
Still nothing.
She moved around the large living space toward the kitchen, the only sound the muffled whisper of her boots on the carpet and the soft swish! of her satin costume. The stunning form of the Amazon Princess was pressed against the wall outside the polished, freely swinging door. As she reached toward the entrance, she suddenly heard a tiny clunk, the barely audible sound of metal hitting wood, from the bedroom upstairs.
Her great speed had the Champion of All Women standing in the doorway to the bedroom in mere seconds. To her dismay, she saw her roommate laying on the bed, unconscious, her long blonde hair obscuring her face, her arms resting along the sides of her prone figure.
'Penelope!' the Amazon whispered harshly as she leapt to help her friend.
Seating herself on the bed next to the unconscious girl, the Amazon heroine gently turned her roommate over. Placing Penelope's head in her lap, she brushed the hair from her face. As she did so, she saw a small patch of blood peeking through the golden mane from her scalp. The heroine felt her heart skip a beat as she realised that Penelope had been attacked. Long fingers tenderly stroked Penelope's cheek, as the Princess quietly considered what to do. She sighed as the helplessness of her situation crept over her. What had happened to Penelope?
Suddenly, even before she heard them, the distraught heroine felt the combined weight of two men crashing on top her, driving her to the floor. The hands of both of the powerful thugs grabbed at her, seeking to restrain the avenger and to pin her arms. Wonder Woman's left arm was pulled back until it was locked behind her back and a man's hand was firmly clamped on her wrist, just below her Amazon bracelet, painfully twisting the joint. Another burly arm wrapped around her waist, grabbing at Hippolyte's girdle and the front of the red-and-gold satin uniform. The football-style tackle dragged the heroine from the bed along with the bedclothes, which wrapped themselves around her legs, and caught on the heels of her glistening red leather boots. The arm pulled the Princess firmly against a man's muscular torso, and her bare back was sensitive to the sweaty shirt that pressed hard against her as she was hauled across the floor. Even more alarming, she recognised an erection pressing upward between her cheeks. The star-spangled satin that lay skin-tight against her ass was pressed into the crevice between the two perfect hemispheres by the engorged member. She tried to wriggle free, to tear herself from her attackers, but the melee of arms and legs and tangled bedding prevented it. Still yet another hairy arm locked itself around her throat, making her gasp for breath as her face was now driven to the floor, hard, stunning the beauty momentarily. She was secured in place by a hand, reaching around, desperately gripping her bare shoulder and upper arm, so that the arm pressed against the front of her throat. Two pairs of male legs slithered around the Princess of Paradise Island, at her waist and her knees, entangling the bed covers more completely. Further complicating her efforts to resist, her lover's body fell on top of her, encumbering the pounded heroine's free arm under the insensible form of the athletic blonde, as well as those of her male attackers. And even before the Amazon could begin to resist, she smelled the sweet fumes of chloroform penetrating her consciousness, as yet another strong hand clamped a soaked handkerchief across her face. Choked by the forearm locked around her throat, which flexed strongly, cutting off her air supply, she inhaled a long dose of the vapor with which she had by now become familiar. Her head spun as she vainly tried to reach up with her free hand to push away the fumes.
As far back as her battles with Nazis during World War II, ever since her arrival in America, Wonder Woman's susceptibility to chloroform had been known. It could be described as one thing that was genuinely surprising about Man's World to newly arrived Amazon. There was a continuing argument as to whether it was the Nazi Wonder Woman, Fausta, or some other Reich agent who had first learned of the Amazon's weakness. But once known, it became a standard weapon in the arsenals of both America's enemies and those criminals who sought to triumph over the beautiful and powerful Amazon. In the intervening years, Wonder Woman had successfully taken steps to reduce the opportunities for her adversaries to force her to succumb to this weapon. Her awareness of her weakness in this regard was her best defense against falling under its spell. But in her own apartment, and with the unconscious form of her roommate and lover unmoving on her lap, the shattered girl was taken completely by surprise. In a matter of seconds, her great Amazon strength slipped away from her, and even before she was unconscious, she experienced the depths of her own helplessness.
Her head spun as the penetrating fumes filled her nostrils with their sweet, dizzying aroma. The last thing the defenseless girl saw were the walls of the bedroom first rotating madly, and then jumping up and down in her delirium. 'N—n—n—no—ooh!' she breathed. The two men who held her watched as her eyes, already glazed, rolled back so that only white was visible and the lids reluctantly closed, first fluttering, and then softly easing shut. Her arms, at once so powerful and yet so frail, struggled to free themselves from the impediments that blocked her strength, but as the effects of the chloroform seeped through her, the Amazon Princess finally succumbed, unresisting, and fell into insensibility.
Nero and Colin pushed their way through the tangle of bodies, limbs, and bedding, and stood over the tangled forms of the two beautiful women.
Nero stared at the figure of the Champion of All Women, as she lay unconscious before her conquerors. Her raven hair was spread across the floor like an ebony flare surrounding her head. The golden tiara visible on her forehead, which was so readily recognised as a symbol of the Princess' royal line, was slightly awry following the scuffle, tracing a diagonal across the exposed brow of the Amazon. It glistened in the sunlight that filtered into the room from the hallway. The Princess' flawless face seemed peaceful as she breathed slowly and evenly, giving no evidence of the brief struggle that had ended in her defeat. Her head was turned, facing directly upward toward the ceiling, but her shoulders and torso were twisted onto her side, with Penelope's head and shoulders resting on top of the satin costume that was so justly famous. That uniform, clinging to her perfect body like a second skin, breathed with her. The eagle's wings which enveloped her ample breasts seemed to hold the mammaries firmly in their grip, as the breasts seemed to float, defying gravity and transcending the limitations of Man's World. Barely visible beneath Penelope's athletic form was the brilliant golden belt, a gift of her mother, Hippolyte, Queen of the Amazon Nation. Secured tight to Wonder Woman's waist and seated atop those matchless round hips, it accentuated the femininity of its owner as no other accessory could. The Princess' golden lasso was out of sight, lying under her hips and drawn-up leg.
Penelope's face rested against the heroine's uniform, having settled just below the line where the flawless skin of the Champion glistened with perspiration. Her arms were stretched out, seemingly trying to embrace the beautiful Amazon Maid around her waist. The top of her sweat suit had been pulled up, exposing her hard midriff and the round fullness of her breasts.
The legs of both women were covered by the bedspread, with only one of Wonder Woman's boots exposed at the base of the bed.
Nero looked up from the unconscious duo and smiled. 'Which do you prefer?'
For a second, Colin seemed not to understand. Then he bent and easily lifted Penelope's body from its position on top of the Princess. 'You better use that unbreakable rope to tie her before you do anything,' he warned. 'And I've got the bed.' He settled the inert form of his prisoner on the now-bared sheets. Even before Nero moved to take up the unconscious Amazon prisoner, Colin was beginning to remove Penelope's sweat suit.
When he had unzipped the pale blue top, Colin used the long golden mane of his captive to roughly pull the muscular blonde to an upright sitting position on the bed. Then he just yanked the soft material from her. A slight ripping sound accompanied its removal. Tossing the cotton aside, Colin dropped her onto her back. He then grabbed the loosely fitting sweat pants and fairly tore them from her, revealing Penelope's long and finely toned legs. A weak, faint groan emerged from the lips of the now-naked girl, as she slowly and painfully emerged from the darkness and silence of unconsciousness, only to discover a new torment awaiting her. 'Wha-wh-a-aa-at?' she croaked. Before she could utter another sound, a fist smashed against the side of her jaw. A spatter of blood flew against the wall next to the bed and Penelope was quiet again.
Nero had left with his own prey well before the blonde had briefly intoned her surprise. He knew nothing of that brief moment of consciousness that preceded her vicious rape at the hands of the man who had invaded her home. He had thrown Wonder Woman over his right shoulder, her long black hair hanging down past his hips. As he carried the helpless Amazon Maid along the landing above the living area, he enjoyed the glorious late afternoon sunshine streaming in through the large window that covered most of the front of the apartment; at the same time, his right forearm pressed against the crisp, shiny leather of her boots. The coolness of the leather, against which he unconsciously rubbed his arm up and down, almost feeling the soft, taut skin beneath the crisp, polished hide, was already stimulating his manhood, and he hurried to find a private spot to unleash his surging destiny and put this… Wonder Woman… in her place. His left hand had found its way to her awesome and perfect ass, covered, as with a satin skin, by the star-spangled tights that so many had wished to see removed. The material of that dark blue field with the scattering of stars clung so tightly to her hips that even as Nero pressed against that muscular enticement, his little and ring fingers had to struggle in order to find their way beneath its edge. Slowly, as if against the very resistance of the costume itself, he penetrated her most protected secret. Those two fingers made their way around the cup of her ass and into that holy of holies, the warm and damp honeypot between her legs. He could feel his erection tightening.
To forestall anything that might be considered a disaster, he reached the far end of the balcony and simply dumped his cargo onto the floor. The thin carpeting did nothing to muffle the heavy THUMP! that accompanied her delivery to that spot which was only barely secluded from anyone who might be passing outside. Quickly unslipping the golden lasso from its clasp on her right hip, he began binding her wrists, wrapping the rope around and between, above and below, the Amazon bracelets that graced Wonder Woman's lithe arms. He was surprised that even as he wrapped more and more loops around those powerful but unresisting extremities, the lasso itself seemed to grow, making ever more lengths of rope available to secure his treasure. Once he was certain that the wrists had been secured together, Nero pulled the rope around the double horizontal slats of the railing that bordered the loft. The unconscious Amazon Princess was hoisted upward, so that she reclined at an angle against the varnished wood, her bound wrists over her head, binding her firmly to the heavy oak planks.
Having secured the heroine, Nero next prepared himself for the fulfillment of this dream, a dream he shared with much of the underworld and, truth be told, with most of the men in America. He kicked off his shoes and quickly undid his pants and boxers. The size and hardness of his member surprised him, for it had been many years since he had actually been so hard as to feel pain coursing through that twelve inches of manhood he so readily wielded in the whorehouses and hotels of Washington, DC. Grabbing the front of the Amazon Champion's tights, he frantically pulled them down her long legs and past her glistening boots; he paused to again feel the cool, crisp red leather; again he imagined he could feel the soft, warm flesh beneath; then he simply dropped the satin tights on the floor next to her.
Her exposed tuft was remarkable to see. Not shaven, nor simply unkempt, the short, pitch-black hairs neatly covered the front of the smooth rounded mound. The thickness of the muff tapered evenly toward its edges, forming a perfect isosceles triangle protecting her womanhood. Even this is perfect, Nero thought.
He placed his hand on the Amazon's pubis, three fingers first gingerly brushing the entrance to her; and then they more aggressively probed that sweet cave.
She moaned. Her head rocked slowly back and forth. Even though she was still unconscious, the heroine responded to, and wished to resist, the stimulation of penetration. But her legs spread slightly and her knees drew slightly up, opening her to Nero's impending violation. There was a small involuntary quiver through her body. Then she was still.
Well, it wouldn't be the first time the bitch was unconscious, he thought. He remembered his first 'experience;' that toit never woke up. His fingers entered the unresisting woman and began to caress her interior, first gently, and then more insistently.
'Nnn—nnnggh—gggghhhuugghh!' The Champion of All Women seemed to push herself away from his defilement, even insensate as she was, but the banister and her bound wrists secured her in front of him. She wasn't going anywhere. Nero had his prize for the taking.
Now he reached up and seized her red-and-gold breastplate, the satin feeling ever so soft in his hand. As he wrapped his fingers around the fabric, he could feel the sweat between her breasts. He allowed his hand the luxury of simply resting between those two glorious orbs for a moment, feeling both their hard smoothness against the back of his hand and, simultaneously, the softness of the satin against his fingers and his palm. Once he had registered these sensations and felt the growing lust in his groin, he briefly loosened his grip on the eagle's head to permit a swelling of his power over his defeated captive. He glanced at the helpless Princess before him, the heroine whose last defense was about to be taken from her. Even though she was a Wonder Woman, she was still only a woman.
He smiled to himself. Tada! he whispered, just before tearing the last bit of protection away from the heroine. He stared at the magnificent woman who now lay before him, bound and naked, except for her golden belt, her bracelets, tiara, and boots. As Nero cast the satin bustier aside, he drew his hands up to his face and smelled the mixed aromas of Wonder Woman: her cunt on his left hand, her sweat on his right. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the bouquet and he felt the pre-cum dribble from him. He looked down at his manhood as the fluid dropped, in a long silvery line to just above her navel, swooping from the tip of his engorged prick to the smooth, taut perfection of her stomach.
Straddling the inert form of the Champion of All Women, he brought his prick upward toward her face. Nero brushed his oozing member across her cheeks, streaking his fluid from cheekbone to cheekbone. He had never felt anything so soft as that silken skin. The tip of his manhood tingled, swelled, and hardened. Truly, he thought, there is nothing as soft as this. She really is a Wonder Woman. The bright pink cone of his ramrod rested just beneath her nose. Nero enjoyed this demeaning vision of Wonder Woman, naked before him but still wearing her Princess' tiara, seemingly preparing to take him orally. He continued to sweep his prick back and forth against the unresponsive Amazon's face, particularly enjoying those moments when it pressed between her ruby lips. The crimson serpent turned those lips outward, one at a time, as it alternately penetrated and withdrew. Each time he came up against the edges of her hard, white teeth, the tip of his rod felt a stab of pleasure that penetrated all the way to his spine.
Wonder Woman's eyes began to flutter, as consciousness returned to the Amazon Maiden. The presence of his cock pressing against her lips and teeth made the Princess turn her head, even though she didn't completely grasp what was happening to her. The curly-haired villain held his ground, so that his prick remained pressed against the side of her face, and he reached down and placed his hand around the loose end of the golden lasso that bound the Amazon and secured her to the wooden slats. As soon as he gripped the magic rope, he saw the eyes of his prisoner open wide and her body's attitude become more compliant.
'O.K., slut,' he said, a genuine viciousness in his voice, 'you have to do everything I say when I'm holding this rope, don't you?'
The Princess from Paradise Island offered no resistance to the magic power of her bonds. 'When I am bound by the magic lasso,' she said, 'I am compelled to obey whoever holds it.' There had been times when she had tried to resist the lasso's influence, but she had learned that she could not. Better to save her will power and strength for the ordeal ahead.
'Then if I order you to give me the finest blowjob that a man has ever been given, you'd do it?'
'I am compelled to obey,' she repeated slowly. Dread crept over the revived Amazon as she stared at the man who held in his power.
'Have you ever given anyone a blowjob, Wonder Woman?'
The Champion felt her face flush, as she realized that she must answer this humiliating question. She tried to remain still, but the power of her greatest weapon over its owner was too great. She mumbled her response. 'Yes.'
'I'm sorry, Wonder Woman—' Nero spoke her name with intense disdain, 'but what did you say?'
'Yes, I have given men blowjobs while under the influence of the lasso.' Each word cut the helpless Amazon Champion like a knife.
'Are you good at it, Wonder Woman?'
Again the power of the golden rope, looped around her wrists, securing them above her head, forced the prisoner to answer, and the words were the most shameful she could remember. 'Yes, the men who ordered me to satisfy them have said that it was the best they had ever received.'
'And you've done this frequently?'
She resisted in vain. 'Yes.'
'Tell me what it's like, Wonder Woman. Tell me what it's like for a superheroine, an Amazon Princess, for the Champion of All Women to give a man a blowjob.'
Why was he doing this? Although the Amazon outwardly gave no sign of the shame she felt, the command—for that was what any question became when she was bound by her magic lasso—the command wrenched her insides. Without missing beat, despite the intense turmoil and anguish that preyed upon the helpless woman, the answer came.
'It is the clearest sign of my subjugation at the hands of a man. To have a man's organ pressed into my mouth, pressed all the way inside, to have that salty fluid sliding down inside of my throat, filling my mouth, is the most degrading thing that has happened to me. It is utterly repugnant.'
'Did you give Nazis a blowjob, Wonder Woman?'
'Yes. When they learned the power of the lasso, even the most depraved act was just one more way to disgrace me.'
Nero felt his prick grow ever harder as Wonder Woman was forced to give an even more detailed description of her ignominy. She described how she manipulated the organs of her captors, how she used teeth, tongue, and lips to maintain his erection, how she could delay her master's ejaculation by maneuvering those three parts, how she was forced to endure taking his seed in her face, in her mouth, down her throat. Even though her voice gave no evidence of the shame she felt at the dishonour she was being forced to recount, or of the derision she remembered so well from these moments in her career when she suffered at the hands of her enemies, moments she retained in her most secret of private places in her memory—even though her voice offered not the slightest sense of this shame, because the confessions were pried from her by the power of her magic lasso, the proud Amazon Princess felt an internal havoc ripping at her. The Champion of All Women was revealed as a plaything for master males.
'What does it taste like, Wonder Woman?'
That tone of mockery when saying her name again.
'How do you feel when your bracelets are chained?'
More humiliation.
'When you are fucked by many men, do you cum?'
Piled higher and higher.
'Take me in your mouth, Amazon slut.'
The end of the questioning came as a shock. It seemed that this criminal's enjoyment of her recounting of past humiliations was now replaced by his own degradation of the heroine.
The command shot through her, and she parted her ruby lips to receive his full twelve inches.
'Show me everything you've learned, Princess. Don't let me come for fifteen minutes.'
She obeyed. The indignity that she now suffered through was as great as any that preceded it. In her own apartment, her wrists bound over her head, her naked body hanging from the rail to the thin carpeting, straddled by this criminal underling, his dick pressed full into her mouth, which worked skillfully and adroitly across the thick member, maintaining the erection, pulling Nero closer to discharge and then allowing him release to fall back from that magic precipice.
'That's it, Wonder Bitch,' he whispered. 'That's a good cocksucker.'
It was a full fifteen minutes before Wonder Woman permitted Nero to come. When he did, it shot full into the Amazon's beautiful face with the force of a shotgun. She had been letting him slide from her mouth at that instant and, while a great deal of his manhood did find its way down the back of her throat, its salty taste causing her great discomfort, that distress paled when compared to the jettisons of sticky white fluid that rolled slowly down from her forehead into her eyes, down her cheeks, some hanging loosely away from her countenance in long strands, and off her lower lip and chin.
'Use your tongue, bitch. Clean me!' he ordered roughly.
She had to extend her tongue far out to reach his now-limp prick, the opaque dribble now only slowly oozing from the tip. Turning her head in compliance with the order that thundered through her because of the magic lasso, she took more of his jism in a humiliating display of self-abasement. She licked the tip, and then followed up by cleaning the organ itself, as if it were a limp ice-cream cone.
'Clean yourself up, Wonder Woman. Suck up all the goodies I've left.'
Using her tongue and her arms that framed her face, the heroine now suffered the further indignity of lapping up the residue of Nero's explosive discharge. Much of it had dried and some was simply smeared as she pushed the milky remains of Nero's ecstasy to where her tongue bring it into her as she did as she had been commanded.
Colin carried Penelope into the hall from the bedroom as this humiliation was ending. The large man bore the weight of the athletic girl as easily as if she were a small child. Looking to the far corner of the walkway, he quickly located Nero and his prize. 'Let's go,' he said simply.
The humbled Amazon Princess walked, naked, behind her conqueror, her wrists bound in front of her, secured by the golden lasso. She was taller than Nero by a small margin in her three-inch heels, but her bearing, usually heroic and regal as befitted a Princess of Paradise Island, was gone, so that she appeared diminished in stature. Her head was lowered and her raven-black hair covered her face, protecting her from the shame of the moment. Her slumped shoulders seemed almost quivering in the late afternoon sun. Wonder Woman's flawless form, from the perfectly formed hemispheres that were her ample breasts, tapering to an athletic waist which revealed no sign of softness, superlatively round hips that jutted outward just below, and the long desirable legs swathed in the red leather of her boots, leather so crisp that it seemed to breathe with her as a second skin lying tightly against her calves and ankles, seemed now to be that of nothing more than a defeated girl. She walked obediently behind Nero, who led her down the stairs to the large living area below. Her nakedness added to her dishonour, revealing to all her inability to preserve even the dignity of the slightest modesty. Her bound wrists covered her exposed sex from any prying eyes, but the slightest command from her captor would display even that most private of sanctums.
As her eyes rose from the floor, Wonder Woman saw Penelope lying against the wall near the door. Her face was broken and bloodied, the result of Colin's battering fists as he raped and pounded his helpless victim, seeking his own ecstatic heights. The heroine, feeling completely unlike such a designation, gazed down helplessly on her lover, roommate, and friend and saw that her torn sweat suit had been restored. She wondered at the bruising that must assuredly be covered by the pale blue cotton.
'Wonder Woman!' Nero ordered brusquely. 'Pick up your friend—' he sneered, rather than said, the word, 'and carry her out to the car.' He held the familiar uniform of the Amazon Maiden, inspecting it absently, turning it over and over in his hands. The magic lasso played out from Nero's grip as Wonder Woman moved to the senseless blonde girl. Easily lifting her, the Champion of All Women followed Nero out into the sunlight.
Colin had backed the car up to the front door, so that the distance to the waiting vehicle was only a matter of a few feet. The trunk lay open, awaiting Penelope's inert form. Once she had been deposited there, Nero led his prisoner to the back seat.
Nero and the Amazon sat together in the back seat, while Colin eased through traffic in Georgetown. The tinted windows obstructed any prying eyes, but Wonder Woman could only feel the continued humiliation of her nakedness.
Nero outlined the Amazon Maiden's pale pink aureole with the loop of the golden lasso he held. 'Do you like it when a man—a real man, Wonder Woman—plays with your tits?' he asked.
Forced to respond, Wonder Woman recounted again her feelings of degradation and humiliation at the hands of men who had bound her with the magic lasso. As she did so, Nero placed his free hand fully on her perfect breast, pressing, rubbing, and shaming the Champion. Colin chuckled as he heard the lovely Amazon Maid detail her treatment.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, the crewcut Colin saw the face of their prisoner. The heroine's face, he saw, was smeared across both cheeks with a dried grimy sediment, slightly off-white in colour. The same deposits were around her mouth and on her chin. Despite this evidence of her mistreatment at Nero's hand, she seemed tranquil as she sat in the back seat. She appeared utterly unmoved at her nakedness and at his cohort's fingering of her perfect breast. Returning his attention to the road, he turned right onto 'R' Street and headed out of downtown.
The turmoil raging inside the beautiful, powerless Amazon Maid, as she stared at the golden lasso binding her wrists, had finally led to desperation. The humiliating questions she had been forced to answer, her degraded condition, her helplessness in the face of the threat to Penelope, the depravity of her captor and his treatment of her, all combined now as Wonder Woman cast her eyes frantically about, looking for some way out. But with the lasso firmly in Nero's grip, there was no ready escape. Her Amazon strength and her marvelous speed were contained by the fact that she was the prisoner of a man. As she felt her heart drop, she realised that she had other weapons. Wise as Athena and beautiful as Aphrodite: perhaps these attributes might yet free her. If only the questioning allowed her sufficient latitude to use them.
The car turned left and made its way into the Virginia countryside. The homes in this area were widely spaced and very large. They frequently belonged the members of the Executive Branch, people with a lot of recently acquired cash and needing a comfortable place to live.
'You may as well get comfortable, Wonder Slut,' Nero said. 'We've got a pretty good drive ahead of us.
'Why don't you lean over here?'
Her stomach was revolted by the idea, but the power of the magic lasso would not be denied. While he still loosely held her breast, Wonder Woman pressed her muscular body against Nero's chest. He brought his other arm, the one holding her lasso, around her so that it rested on her left shoulder.
Taking her cue from his command and knowing it was what he wanted, the captive Amazon turned her face toward his and brought her lips up to his ear. Taking the lobe between her lips, she first kissed, then nibbled the thick tissue. Her captor sighed and settled comfortably against the heroine.
If she could just get him to drop the lasso.
Eventually she pressed her tongue into his ear, and she began to kiss and take small nips at the pinna. As she did so, Wonder Woman saw him shift his legs, indicating it was having its desired effect.
'She's decided she wants to be a little friendlier,' Nero told Colin, who slowed the car on the winding road in the darkening twilight.
'Want to share?' the driver asked.
There was a long pause as Wonder Woman realised that her ploy may have backfired.
'Why not?'
In a few moments, the car had pulled to a stop in a small grove of trees, which shielded the criminals and their prize from the road. The large crewcut Colin was the first out of the car. Hurrying around the rear of the vehicle, he opened the door next to Nero, who eased himself away from the despondent Princess. When he got out of the car, he ordered the helpless girl to follow.
Obediently, the powerless avenger arose from the vehicle. The cool evening air cut to her nakedness.
'On your knees, Wonder Bitch!'
Immediately, she dropped to her knees in front of the two men. Colin walked slowly behind her. Nero held the lasso, which still bound her wrists and commanded her will.
'My friend likes to take his women in the ass,' Nero said, laughing. 'Do you like to get it in the ass, Wonder Woman?' This time there was no mistaking the tone with which he said her name.
Before she could respond, as the lasso commanded, he went on, 'Open your mouth, bitch. You're going to get it from opposite ends this time.'
Helpless and bound before these men who intended only to diminish her, Wonder Woman's face did not change as Nero and Colin pulled down their pants and prepared to again punish the Amazon Maid. The Princess tried to distance herself from the humiliation. In her mind she went to the first such trial she had ever undergone.
It was 1942, the darkest hours of World War II. Nazi armies were on the march across the Soviet Union and were in occupation almost everywhere in Western Europe. Britain had been fighting alone since the spring of 1940. In Asia, the Imperial Empire of Japan had extended its reach from the borders of India to Manchuria, and outward to the islands of the South Pacific.
Wonder Woman had arrived only months before, and already there was evidence of rising morale on the home front. But her efforts against Nazi spies in America had not gone unnoticed in Germany, where a plot had been hatched to end her role before it began. The Amazon Princess had been captured by the Nazi Wonder Woman, Fausta Grebel, her strength lost to the links of chain which joined her bracelets. She had been carried to Germany, a prisoner, and there her interrogation had been taken over by Colonel Kesselmann, an SS officer who saw in the breaking of the Champion of All Women not only a road to personal advancement, but also the opportunity to demonstrate the feebleness of all women before men.
He had taken the prisoner from Fräulein Grebel, to her dismay, for she was certain that the magic lasso would be all that was necessary for the ensuing interrogation. Kesselmann, who recognised that the Amazon's golden rope would be useful, for he didn't disbelieve Fausta when she told him of its powers, dismissed the blonde Nazi Wonder Woman, and took his prize to the cellars beneath his castle. There he and his SS wolves would teach this Wonder Woman her proper place.
The laughter and the hooting of the SS men wearing their silver and black uniforms was a surprise to the powerless Amazon Maid. She had never seen a large number of men gathered together for sport such as this. And the chains that linked Wonder Woman's bracelets ensured that her strength would not help her in the face of this trial. Kesselmann flourished the magic lasso and announced that whoever held the rope while it encircled the prisoner's body would have his every wish fulfilled. There was a swelling of cheers at that announcement. He would demonstrate its powers shortly. Then others were invited to do so.
She stood in their midst, heavy Nazi steel links running from her Amazon bracelets to a cumbersome steel belt encircling her waist, five inches wide, covering the golden girdle that was Hippolyte's gift. The links joining her bracelets passed through several loops in this metal band, so that the Princess could not even raise her arms above her head. More links, from below, intermingled with these. Shackles had been closed around the polished red leather at her ankles and the same kind of cumbersome chains stretched up to that grey metal waistband, where they too passed through more metal eyelets. Because of these fetters, which bound the Amazon further, when the superheroine tried to walk, each pace was cut to mere inches. As she was led before her jeering audience, her tiny steps provoked great laughter among the witnesses.
'Die größe Wunderfräulein! Wo ist dein Kraft jetzt?' he taunted her. 'So wie Amerika! Die Übermenschen wird' dein Kraft erleiden!'
And with that, the 'supermen' rushed to seize the powerless Amazon girl, dragging her brutally across the floor, smashing her into the stinking stone wall behind her. A dozen hands grabbed at the Princess in the frenzy that followed. Even before she reached the dripping stones, parts of her patriotic costume had been ripped away. When she was smashed against the stones, the force of the impact dazed the hapless heroine. Only the many hands of her attackers held her up.
Some of those hands ripped away scraps of her satin costume. The tops of her breasts came visible, as did one light pink aureole. The dark blue, star-spangled hot pants that were part of her uniform upon her arrival in America were torn, gaping holes uncovering the tops of her thighs and even a small portion of the perfect, raven black muff.
'Ooohhhhhh,' the stunned girl moaned. 'Hera, help me!' As the many hands continued to grab at her, Kesselmann strode imperiously toward her.
'Seh', alles,' one SS officer shouted, holding aloft a shredded piece of the dark blue tights. 'Hier ist die amerikanische Fahne!' Then he stood at attention, waving the satin fragment slowly, back and forth above his head, singing,
'Oh, say can you see…'
The others immediately joined in the raucous rendition of the American national anthem.
'By the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we—'
And then, they all shouted, 'HEIL!' The SS wolves shouted, then screamed, the word again and again, so that it seemed the stone walls would crumble under the force of their cheers. There was more laughter when another blonde young man in the back of the crowd began mocking the helpless captive by repeating her name in a sing-song manner, which was at the same time both taunting and leering at the ravishing prisoner.
'Wonder Woman! Wonder Woman!' Others picked up the tune: 'Wonder Woman! Wonder Woman! You're a wonder, Wonder Woman!' Until finally almost everyone in the room was jeering the powerless Amazon Princess. 'Wonder Woman! Wonder Woman! In your satin tights, fighting for your rights, you're a wonder, Wonder Woman!' Finally, all of the officers burst into unrelieved laughter.
'So! Wonder Woman!' A young man with a scar stretching from beneath his uniform up to his jaw made his way to stand before the captive. 'Do you remember me?'
The avenger stared at the tall blonde man. She did recognise him. He had been a leader of a sabotage organisation working out of the Brooklyn Navy Yard. When Wonder Woman had broken up his ring, he had disappeared.
'I am Horst Jäger. You may remember me as 'Tristan', my code name.' There was silence now as he spoke to the powerless prisoner. 'I saw you a few times, fighting with my men.
'You tossed them about like so much debris. You were very strong.' He approached the chained Amazon.
'Where is your great strength now, eh? Where is the strength that allowed you to lift one of my men over your head and toss him aside, a distance great enough to shatter his bones? You killed my men, you bitch! Good men. Men who had wives here in the Fatherland.' He stopped and stared hard into the face of the beautiful heroine.
'My… brother!' he snarled as he lashed out at her.
His fist caught her flush on the cheekbone and her head smashed sickeningly against the wall behind her, dazing the powerless Amazon Maiden. Before she could recover, a second blow tore into her beautiful face, twisting her head on her neck in the other direction. A third and a fourth time he smashed her, wrenching her head viciously back and forth. His final punch carried all of his force and fury as he thrust his fist directly into her diaphragm, immediately below her rib cage and directly above the steel ring around her waist. The air rushed out of her in a noisy gush and even the Amazon doubled over and groaned from the force of his blow.
Jäger stepped away from the prisoner, but he didn't take his eyes from her as he passed back into the crowd of men. Wonder Woman gasped, trying to catch her breath.
'Do you remember me, Wonder Woman?' another uniformed man asked.
One after another, a dozen Nazi agents, SS officers all, took their turn with the Amazon girl. Colonel Kesselmann had given each the right to have his moment of triumph over the woman who had defeated him. The Amazon's beautiful face showed signs of swelling all along the jaw and her perfect high cheekbones by the time the first few had laid into the heroine. Her powerful Amazon physique was tested and then ultimately crushed under the powerful blows meted out by the savagery of a dozen of these young, strong Nazis. Her lip was cut and blood trickled down her chin. Her Amazon constitution was tested by the beating and even this magnificent organism, deprived now of its Amazon strength, was found wanting.
One after another, Nazis battered the poor woman, meting out their penalty for her intrusion into their spying or sabotage organisations. Hard fists pounded her face, her ribcage, and her breasts, eventually pulling cries of pain from the Champion of Paradise Island.
'Aaaggghhhh!' she cried as the final SS officer stepped before her and opened his litany with the now-familiar question, 'Do you remember me, Wonder Woman?'
Only the arms of the assisting officers held up her statuesque form. Weighed down by the great steel shackles, her arms hung useless at her sides, the links connecting her bracelets drooping in a long parabola toward the floor. And though pain now permeated her body, distracting her qualities of mind from overcoming the suffering inflicted on her, Wonder Woman absorbed still more punishment and tried to understand how these men could act in this way. Before each punch flew mercilessly at her, she saw each face that came before her, each handsome and proud young face that stood directly in front of her; each countenance contained a malevolent fury, vicious and hateful; every man who pummeled the helpless Princess knew exactly what he was doing and each did it for exactly the same reason: he was not driven by maintaining face before his brother officers. Each of the dozen men struck out at Wonder Woman because of hate. And not hate for what she had done, though that stoked the fires of their animus, but rather hate for what she was. Not a symbol of America; not a symbol of freedom; but a symbol for women. These Nazis believed that women were to be repressed. Women in Nazi Germany were to be either mothers or virgins; their roles were to maintain home and hearth, raising children and making Home a comfortable place for men; or else they were to inspire the fighting men by their virtue. How unlike an Amazon!
When the last beating had been levied against the heroine, she was carried through the crowd, across the room to the far wall, her red leather boots dragging against the rough rock floor. This allowed members of the crowd, who had cheered on the dozen of their fellows who had been given the right to batter the Amazon, to unleash their own barrage of fists, kicks, and spittle at the prisoner. When they reached the far side of the room and turned her to face her tormentors, Wonder Woman looked anything but heroic. Her battered head hung facing the floor, almost unconscious, and her body sagged forward, her knees buckling under her. The signs of the abuse she had suffered not only at the hands of the selected dozen, but also from the many who were within reach as she was dragged across the floor, were evident.
The chains that bound her hung to the floor and Wonder Woman now stood before the men who were her enemies, helpless and beaten, held up only by the support of two black-and-silver-clad officers.
Her head, still ringed by her golden tiara, which was now almost lost in her tousled ebony hair, hung loosely forward, below her shoulders. Her eyes were almost closed as she desperately tried to pull herself back from the brink of that abyss that would plunge the heroine into unconsciousness. A weak, dry moan emerged from her parched throat to let her audience know that, despite appearances, she was not yet unconscious. Her cracked lips showed more evidence of the beating she had absorbed, as thin patches of blood had accumulated at the corners of her mouth and rivulets now dry had flowed toward the point of her chin. Two or three droplets were evident on her chest. Unsteadily, weakly, Wonder Woman tried to raise her head to face her enemies. But she just didn't have the strength.
Her arms hung loosely at her sides, firmly in the grip of the Nazi officers. Her wrists, linked by chains connecting her Amazon bracelets ensured that her powerlessness would continue. What the SS's plans were for the Champion of All Women, remained to be seen.
Her patriotic costume was already torn after being manhandled by her enemies, exposing the avenger to their taunts. One ample breast, laid bare for the Nazis, was the target of both ridicule and wonderment. One black-uniformed officer reached out and gave rise to laughter when his hand was too small to encompass the Amazon's mammilla. His face flushed, he lashed out at Wonder Woman as the source of his discomfiture, and squeezed the nipple sadistically, drawing a pitiful moan from the captive heroine.
Likewise, the star-spangled hot pants that attracted so much attention from American males were already tattered. Leaving little to the imagination, the skintight satin had lain across her hips provocatively. The holes in the material revealed bits of deeply tanned flesh and a small sample of the neat curls that marked her highly desirable womanhood.
The Amazon's long tan legs provided no support for her body. Her sagging body hung in the grip of the officers toward the stone floor. Her thighs were pressed together, her left knee thrusting in front the right. Her red leather boots, highly polished and looking as though they were painted onto her skin, glistened in the lights placed along the walls.
Colonel Kesselmann strode majestically toward his prisoner, relishing the adulation he felt from his fellow officers. Here was the American Champion who had defeated so many Nazi plans and operations in so short a time! Here was the powerful adversary who had killed so many heroes of the Reich! Here was this… this Wonder Woman! Chained, weakened, defeated! By him! He smiled as he approached his prisoner and the applause died down. He spoke to her in English, though his accent made some of the words difficult to understand. He wanted to further impress his fellow SS officers with his intellect, to go along with his evident cunning and bravery.
'So, this is the great Wonder Woman? This is the best that America can offer to fight us? Look at her! Her costume is that of a Parisian—no, a Hollywood—whore! Perhaps that is the source of all of the legends of this Champion. Perhaps it was all—special effects.'
Horst Jäger knew that this was certainly not true. He had seen the Amazon in action. But the junior officer laughed as uproariously as the rest of those gathered in the room.
'We shall see what other talents this Hollywood whore has to offer us, thanks to this.' He held the golden lasso aloft, then quickly tied one end around the helpless Wonder Woman's waist, encircling the steel belt that contained her shackles. As soon as he had done so, the weary Amazon's beaten, tired face turned toward the SS colonel.
He had already tested the lasso on the prisoner, so he knew some of its potential. Now he would give a demonstration for his fellows. 'You will stand up tall, Wonder Woman.' She immediately obeyed the command of the man who held the lasso. The men who had held her released their grip.
Playing out the rope, Kesselmann ordered Wonder Woman to dance, to do calisthenics, and finally, humiliatingly, to wriggle and writhe in front of Jäeger and two other men whom he seated in the forefront of the crowd. She was ordered to straddle their laps, brush their thighs with hers, kiss them, and moan seductively in their ears. This she did, all the while deftly maneuvering in the chains which bound her. Kesselmann ordered her down to the floor, where she provocatively wriggled and squirmed like a snake, even raising her beautiful face into the lap of each man successively. She was ordered to kiss the small mound that had formed in their laps, to bite it, to crawl between their spread legs and to press her bosom against the thighs, stomach, chest, and face of each officer. She sat on the lap of each, brought her perfect legs up and encircled the head of the young Nazis, eventually wrapping her thighs around the neck and jaw of each, Horst Jäeger first and then each of his friends. She draped her knees over their shoulders as she allowed her body to hang down in front of them, her back resting on the lap, her three-inch heels brushing the small of each man's back, the chains that joined her ankles hanging almost to the floor.
The performance concluded, Wonder Woman was ordered back to her feet, where she stood impassively, though sweating profusely.
But the perspiration and shaking of the three SS officers was evident. To have experienced such proximity to so beautiful a woman—!
'You see what she is capable of, this… Wonder Woman! Her services will go to the highest bidders, and there will be no limit to the number of partners she will satisfy. All you have to do is meet the minimum bid of 500 Reichsmarks. The higher the bid, the shorter the line.
'Behold!' He walked to the heroine and pulled her breastplate off her body. Her gravity-defying breasts stared enticingly at the crowd of men.
The screams of the officers, each shouting higher and higher bids for the Amazon Princess, echoed off the walls of the room and pierced upward into the upper floors of the castle. The high bid of 10,000 Reichsmarks went to a lieutenant colonel of the Waffen SS. He would be the first.
Kesselmann exchanged the lasso for the money and the officer led the Amazon to the specially prepared bedroom down the hall from the chamber of her humiliation.
Wonder Woman did not understand what these men were bidding for. When her red-and-gold breastplate was torn from her body, a shudder ran through her not because of her nakedness before the large number of men. Life on Paradise Island included much such freedom and celebration of a healthy body. The fear arose from sense of danger that these men represented. Drained of her Amazon strength, and in the hands of these men, she knew that she was defenseless against the desires of her enemies. But she had no understanding of those desires. As she was led from the room, her heels click-clicking on the polished rock floor, catcalls followed her; hands reached out and patted and stroked her body. These same officers who moments before had sought to pound their fists against her perfect form now sought only contact with this helpless girl, to stroke her skin, and feel her costume. As she passed out of the room, she heard them determining the order for possession of the Wonder Woman. Possession for what purpose? she wondered.
The heavy metal door was about fifty yards from the large hall, from which the sounds of the competing officers could still be heard. It took the Amazon captive an eternity, it seemed, to traverse that distance, her usually long, powerful strides clipped to barely a third of their length by the chains that bound her ankles. Lieutenant Colonel Hessler walked behind Wonder Woman, watching her body voraciously, holding the lasso, occasionally pressing his free hand against the torn satin of her dark blue tights. 'Move along, woman,' he said occasionally, 'don't stop.'
Under the power of her lasso, Wonder Woman moved purposefully down the hall. Colonel Hessler slid the door open for her and she stepped into the dimly lit room. He followed his beautiful prisoner into the room, then stepped in front of her and led her toward a metal grating standing upright on the floor. It was in an open area of the chamber and the top of the metal grid was about three feet above the dark stone floor.
Still holding the lasso with one hand, the Waffen SS officer dexterously locked the links of chain into a mechanism that ran along the top edge of the iron mesh that was secured to the floor. When he stepped back, Wonder Woman, naked to the waist except for the steel belt that hid her golden girdle of Hippolyte, was bent at the waist with her bound wrists chained to the metal stand, and her red leather boots spread and placed about four feet in front of the gridiron. Her torn starry blue tights presented a tantalising image, clinging to her round, perfect hips like a second skin.
Hessler laid his hand along the satin that clung to the heroine, his body delighting in the sensations of the soft, tight fabric warmed by the smooth musculature beneath. He felt the satin band that circled the top of each of her thighs, marveling at the softness of her skin and the smoothness of the muscles beneath. Higher up, he felt the waistband and eventually pushed his fingers against her stomach and plied his way beneath the star-spangled breeches.
He pushed his hand further and further toward the Amazon's womanhood, until his fingertips entered the tangle of smooth hair protecting and defining her most sacred recess. 'So, Wonder Woman, your anatomy is like that of any other woman, eh?'
'Yes,' she responded, still under the power of the lasso.
'And when I enter you, you will respond as all other women?'
She stared quizzically straight forward. 'Enter me?'
His hat, belt, and tunic were dropped to the floor. Wonder Woman felt the power of the golden lasso disappear as the officer evidently dropped it to remove his boots and trousers. She heard him grunting as he struggled with the black leather boots that were so distinctive a part of the SS uniform. If only her wrists were not chained; now would be the moment to free herself. In vain, she pulled against the chains, but her strength was gone.
The Amazon Princess felt his hands caress her waist just below the steel ring that contained her manacles. As his grip became tighter, he began to move her hips in small circles, slowly widening the diameter as he moved her back and forth. Eventually, her satin-covered ass was bumping against his hips.
Hessler's breathing increased in volume and rapidity, in due course emerging as grunts and moans. He placed his face against Wonder Woman's flawless back, pressing his cheek, his lips, his face against that tanned flesh. She felt his tongue run up and down her spine. Kisses bussed against her from her shoulder blades all the way down to the top of that steel belt around her waist and back up again. In the meantime, the Amazon Maid felt her ragged hot pants begin to slide off her hips and over her ass. She brought her knees together to block that progress, but immediately, she felt the authority of her own greatest weapon, now being used against her, smash through her, as the SS officer took up her lasso. When Hessler simply said, 'You will not resist, woman!' all resistance vanished. Soon the last vestige of her uniform was pulled down to her ankles. The man did not continue to hold the lasso. He didn't need to. The chains ensured the Amazon avenger's compliance.
His hands were again on her waist, guiding her; his face again riding her back, kissing, licking, rubbing. But then one hand dropped to her entrance between her legs, and his fingers penetrated that holiest of shrines. Wonder Woman squealed in shock. Oh, dearest Aphrodite! Great goddesses, he was inside her!
She wanted to fight back, to resist, but the sensation that emerged from his dexterous appeal was somehow soothing, exciting. It was even—pleasant. Her head dropped forward toward the bar that restrained her wrists; she licked her lips, and moaned softly. She even pressed herself against his hand, raising the sensation inside her even more.
'AAAaaaaaahhhhhh!' the helpless heroine breathed. She never experienced anything like this. True, in the interaction among the Amazons on Paradise Island, they had penetrated one another, but that was usually part of the competitions that were a permanent part of life there. It weakened your opponent momentarily, or gave one a temporary advantage by distracting the adversary. It was not intended to be part of their lovemaking, which was highly ritualized. The purpose of this intrusion was very different. The circles described by his fingers were not meant to distract, but to excite. The thrills that flowed up and down her spine sent ripple effects throughout her body; her heart was racing, her breathing becoming ragged; Wonder Woman felt sweat begin to pour off her forehead; and, as Hessler removed his fingers from her, a drop of her sweet honey rolled slowly down the inside of her right thigh. What was he doing to her?
Her dry tongue passed over equally dry lips and her raspy throat issued another weak groan. 'Ooooohhhh, gods! D-dear-est A-a-aphro-dite, please… help… me!' The SS colonel continued his ministration against her back, where he kissed, rubbed, and nibbled, and her hips, fondling and searching. But now there was something new: he pushed against her ass and the powerless Amazon Princess felt something huge press between her round flawless cheeks. He removed one hand from her waist and placed it at the entrance to her womanhood. Then a warm, hard probe slipped through the widened opening and into her dripping, hot cavern. Wonder Woman's head reeled as it stretched up into her. She felt her knees weaken beneath her and she swayed in his grip. Hessler wrapped his arms around her stomach to hold her in place. The hapless heroine heard him whispering in her ear, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. All she could hear was the ocean roaring inside her head.
By all the goddesses, what was this inside her? The Amazon was on the verge of tears as she felt the probe press deeper and deeper, almost growing, in her, weakening her further. The heat given off by this SS officer's hard member was palpable to the tortured heroine, but so too was its very evident throbbing; not just as he steadily drove himself back and forth, in and out, sawing away at the Amazon, each thrust a little more, a little longer, a little stronger than the one before; but another sensation: the rhythmic pulsing of that thing inside her, a pulsing she could feel reverberate in her womanhood.
He tightened his grip around her waist, pulling himself closer to his captive, pressing that shaft even further into her. He had stopped talking to her and now the sweat rolled off of Hessler's face and spattered onto the heroine's bare back. The nibbling that had begun earlier now turned into vigorous bites, as he tried to snare bits of her naked flesh in his teeth. He grunted more harshly now, the sound that was formerly almost gentle turning increasingly brutal and aggressive. He seemed to be attacking her. His hand reached up and molested her large breasts, squeezing, scratching, and twisting the perfect hemispheres until a faint red blush appeared on their surface.
The part of him that was inside her had reached deep into her, touching something in the Amazon's interior that caused her to feel faint in his arms. Wonder Woman had never felt anything like this. The tactile sensations radiating outward from the tip of his shaft rubbing, throbbing inside her again caused the heroine to sway weakly from side to side, only held in place by her bound wrists, secured to the grating in front of her. Hessler continued to move in and out of his prisoner, his own arms seeming to grow weak as they wrapped themselves around the Amazon. He pressed his face against her back, pushing his member fully inside the American icon. As he did so he exploded in a frenzy of sexual rapture.
Wonder Woman felt the paroxysm fill her. Weakness overwhelmed her and the two, rapist and victim, dropped to their knees, he still gripping her waist and his head still settled on her naked quivering back. Wonder Woman's mouth was completely dry as she gasped for breath in the face of this entirely new experience. It came in great gulps and gasps, and she only now realised that her body was soaked with sweat, which dripped to the floor.
She blinked, trying to clear away the fog before her eyes and to do away with the ringing that still clogged her ears. What had happened?
She felt a small stream slide down the inside of both of her thighs as Hessler removed himself from her. Wonder Woman's body now shook uncontrollably as a force she had never experienced roared through her and her sweet-smelling honey burst from inside her onto the floor between her knees. She let out a sound—a cry, a scream, a moan: it was all of these and no one of them—that brought a smile to her rapist's face as he walked around her to face the tortured victim. He said nothing as he gazed down on the poor woman trapped before him, pulling his clothes on. Before he left he reached down, cupping her quaking chin in his fingers and brushing his thumb downward from her eye along the side of her nose. When he removed his hand he rubbed the tear that he took with him between thumb and forefinger. Then he walked out without a word….
Hours later. The once-proud Amazon had lost count of the dozens of men, sometimes two and three at a time, who had taken her. Pain and a humiliation such as she had never known now enclosed the hapless heroine. Her once-powerful body was slumped on the floor as she tried desperately to raise herself to her knees. The red leather boots no longer glistened in the lights. In front of those scuffed remnants of the Princess' former distinction, a puddle of fluid, her fluid, had gathered as orgasm after orgasm had erupted from the Amazon Maiden. Her tiara was slung carelessly across the room and now lay on the damp stone floor. The smooth perfection of her skin was marred by white stains everywhere—around her mouth and across her cheeks and forehead, her shoulders, breasts, and abdomen, at the entrance to her womanhood and her anus, and up and down her thighs. Bruises were visible around her face, arms and breasts, where she had been beaten by some of those who had assaulted her. Her hair was matted with sweat—hers and that of her attackers—and cum. Her golden lasso rested on the floor next to her. It had been occasionally used to further demean the Champion of All Women. Too weak to raise herself even to her knees, Wonder Woman sagged, defeated, spent, and broken, suspended by her chained wrists from the top of a rusting grate in a dungeon in Nazi Germany.
Nero pressed himself fully into Wonder Woman's mouth, enjoying the stimulation that her lips, teeth, and tongue provided. He was sure that her expertise would keep him hanging on the edge of orgasm for as long as he had ordered her. Her cheeks gave evidence of her satisfying him, but, coupled with the hard edge of her teeth against the tip of his prick, a shock tingled through him, stiffening his whole body. He shuddered, a scream emerging from deep in his throat, that lasted unimaginably long, and, finally, he drove his hips wildly back and forth into the Amazon's mouth. Cum rolled down the heroine's throat choking her with its vile aftertaste. White fluid seeped out the edges of her lips, still wrapped around the now-declining organ, rolling slowly down her firm jaw, leaving its now-familiar residue. He grabbed her hair and pressed that magnificent face against his manhood, almost smothering her in his ejaculation. But the lasso kept the heroine compliant, and not even a muffled grunt passed from her.
At exactly that same moment, Colin, feeling the Princess' tight hole pressing against all sides of his somewhat smaller manhood, came in a massive orgasm that also gave itself voice, in his case in a series of grunt. With each convulsion his huge fist crashed down on the unresisting woman in front of him. He smashed his fists two, three times into her ribs, into the prisoner kneeling before him.
Wonder Woman, Champion of All Women, Princess of Paradise Island, suffered the humiliation again, bound by her own magic lasso. Again, her flawless, powerful body was called upon to service men who sought to demean her by satisfying their base desires. Though she gave no outward sign of her shame, for the magic lasso prevented it, in her mind she wept.
End of Chapter Two
Comments, questions, suggestions welcome: contact the author at marat1793@comcast.net.Please note that this is a new address.