Wonder Woman:
Trial by Ordeal by marat
Chapter Six
From her
position on her knees, Wonder Woman looked around her cell. It was small,
barely ten feet on a side, its nine-foot high walls windowless. The cold stones
seeped water through the small gaps in the discoloured mortar where melting ice
was visible inside the bitter-cold chamber. Where the trickling water covered
the stones, dark green moss could be seen covering small portions of the hard,
smooth rock wall, lending the only colour to the otherwise somber room. Lamps
in two corners dimly lighted the chamber, and their flickering glow revealed
only the sparsest of furnishings: A metal cot with a thin mattress and a single
threadbare blanket; no pillow; and a dented metal bucket rudely tossed into a corner,
lying on its side, whose purpose was only too obvious.
Her gaze shifted
to the links that joined her Amazon bracelets. Even though she knew it would be
a vain attempt, the heroine wrapped her right hand around the half link that
had been welded to her left bracelet and, with what she was sure was all of the
strength she could muster, desperately pulled at the steel semicircle, trying
to separate it from the Amazonium symbol of her race’s ancient degradation. She
twisted and pulled at the steel, wriggling it in the hopes that some flaw in
the weld would allow it to pop free of her wristlet that had become a manacle.
Even though she had little hope for success in the endeavour, the beautiful
Amazon Maiden felt her heart sink at the failure.
The stones in
the floor formed a mostly flat surface, and the cell was clean, despite its
spartan décor and frigid temperature. The Princess of Paradise Island placed
her hands flat against the stones as if willing them to separate, allowing her
to escape this latest betrayal. But the metallic scraping of links against the
cold, hard rock told her what she already knew. She was a prisoner of men.
As she rose to
her feet, a wave of dizziness swept over her, causing her to stumble. The
Champion of All Women rested a moment against the icy stone of the wall and she
realised that this room must be deep beneath the base at which she had arrived
only a short while ago. It took her a moment to recover her senses; then she
walked slowly around the room, inspecting her prison, her three-inch heels
echoing their click-click across the tiny chamber. She looked intently
for any sign of weakness in the walls, which she might use to her advantage, or
even a rocky hook where she could gain leverage against her chains. It quickly
became clear there were none.
As she paced her
way along the perimeter of her prison, her body was reminded of the beating she
had suffered mere minutes ago. Her solar plexus was still sore from the blows
delivered against it and her face, though not bruised, was badly bloodied and
she still felt the pain of the battering delivered by the Chilean officers.
Wonder Woman
felt a genuine fear. She was powerless, her Amazon strength stolen by the
chains that linked her bracelets. She was helpless, imprisoned by a group of
men commanded by an inveterate enemy, bent on revenge against and domination of
this particular heroine, who at this moment had no hope of escape. An
involuntary shiver passed through her body as the lovely heroine recognised the
depth of her dilemma.
The harsh sound
of metal grating against metal, a key turning in the lock, shocked the heroine
back to the moment. She turned to face the door as it opened. In stepped one of
the Chilean officers who had battered her just moments before, accompanied by
three enlisted men, all wearing dark green fatigues. One of the
non-commissioned officers carried a rifle with bayonet fixed.
The
tough-looking enlisted man leveled his weapon at Wonder Woman while the other
two took up positions flanking the Amazon prisoner. The officer stood directly
in front of her, next to the man with the rifle.
‘I have been
ungracious, Wonder Woman,’ he said quietly, his English carrying only the
faintest trace of an accent. ‘I have not welcomed you to Chile. Please do not
think that we are unaware of how to properly treat so beautiful and famous a
woman as yourself.’
Wonder Woman
glared at the officer.
‘You are to
provide entertainment and enjoyment for the officers and men under Señor
Kesselmann’s command. If you resist, the results will be the same. It would be
best if you simply submit now.’
The Amazon
Maiden shifted to a defensive stance, prepared to engage these men.
But as she did
so, the two soldiers seized her from behind, each grabbing an arm just below
the elbow with one powerful hand and her bare shoulder with the other. She
squealed and kicked her legs at the officer but missed his head by a good two
feet. With her feet off the floor, the enlisted men easily rushed the Princess
backwards, smashing her against the stone wall with a heavy thud. A
millisecond later there was a sickening crack! as the heroine’s head
smashed against the vertical, icy stones.
The force of the
blow dazed Wonder Woman and she hung limp in the grip of the men, who simply
dropped her to the floor. The helpless Amazon Maid’s eyes were open but she
could not focus on her attackers; slowly her head lolled from side to side.
‘Corporal
Cuellar,’ the officer ordered the man wielding the rifle. ‘Prepare her.’
Wonder Woman lay
on the rock floor, trying to regain control over her body. Her eyes fluttered,
her head rocked slowly from side to side, but she had been so stunned by the
sharp blow to the back of her head that her body lay as if paralysed by the
numbing impact against the unforgiving stones. Corporal Cuellar approached her
body and, with the butt of his M-14, he spread her legs apart. Dimly aware of
her exposure, the benumbed heroine tried to voice her resistance. ‘N-n-nno,
nnnoo,’ she whispered. The star-spangled costume that clung tightly to her
curved around the tops of her thighs and spread from the narrow channel between
her legs outward to both front and rear, protecting her from the prying eyes of
men. The dark blue satin, bedecked with the scattering of white stars, lay flat
and taut against the surface of her hips, ever so inviting to all who saw her.
The armed corporal’s eyes fastened on the heroine’s famed uniform.
Reversing his
rifle, he poised the bayonet at her entrance and, delicately, professionally,
used the razor-sharp point to cut through the satin, while doing no harm to the
sensitive tissue beneath. When Cuellar had cut open a four-inch breach in the
satin, he stepped back, smiling.
‘Bueno!’ the officer complimented him, staring at
the masterful surgery. ‘Bravo!’
Then he looked
at the helpless Wonder Woman. ‘You are ready?’ he asked, smiling broadly.
‘uuuuuuuggggghhhhhhh,’ Wonder Woman groaned weakly, her head
still rocking back and forth. She was aware that her body was threatened by
these men, but not that her last line of defense had already been breached by
the bayonet’s point. Desperately trying to resist, her body began to writhe
sensuously. Corporal Cuellar’s manhood responded and his fatigues took on the
aspect of a tent pole in his groin. The hapless Amazon girl lay open to the
sexual desires of any who wished to do her harm.
The officer
undid his trousers and quickly pulled them clear of his well-muscled legs. He
moved closer and stepped between the spread legs of the dazed heroine. He laid
a hand on her lower leg, letting it rest partly on the silken-smooth calf and
partly on the shimmering red leather of her boot. Where he connected directly
with her skin, the heroine’s skin felt clammy. As he let it lay there, his
prick seemed to come to life, the head bobbing slightly in response to the
touch. Then he placed both hands on the insides of her thighs, pressing them
still further outward, opening her exposed sex to him. The Princess, moaning in
her daze, swallowed hard and tried to fight her way through the haze that
surrounded her. Her body tried to go rigid, but Corporal Cuellar intervened and
smashed the butt of his M-14 against the side of her head. The act took barely
a second or two, and once again, Wonder Woman’s vision narrowed to a pinpoint,
the faded colours surrounded by deep blackness.
The Chilean
officer traced a line up over her knee and her thigh all the way up to the edge
of her dark blue tights. He slipped his fingers between the clean edges of the
slit, pulling the torn material apart, revealing her bush. The hair was as
dark, if not darker than that on her head. The instinct of the Champion of All
Women was to try to cover herself again, but the pain and confusion she felt
allowed her only to flail her hands helplessly, the chains rattling like Marley’s
ghost. The officer took his own hand away from her and sat for a moment
studying the beautiful prisoner. In her blind helplessness, the lovely Amazon
Maid felt sick and utterly vulnerable. But the battering she had received
spared her the sight, if not the sensation, of what followed. The officer
dipped his hands downward and picked up his penis, letting it sit limply in the
palm of his hand. He clasped his fist
around himself and started pulling and stroking, running his hand up and down
the stem with a regular, almost rhythmic movement. His other hand lay inert on
the perfectly round thigh of the powerless Amazon.
Her attacker
seemed to go into a trance. He stared at her, but no longer seemed to see her.
Instead he seemed to be watching an interior movie of himself, his eyes
half-closed and his mouth half-open, and there were small grunting noises
coming out of him. After a while, his free hand gripped her thigh more tightly,
the squeezing of that hand keeping up a cadence with the stroking actions of
the other. Wonder Woman sensed the tightening grip on her thigh and struggled
to pull herself back to fuller awareness. Each successive grasp was tighter and
more painful than the last. His gaze fell on the still-helpless woman before
him, but his eyes remained glazed. His smile, if that’s what it was, left his
teeth bared, more like a grimace.
He was working
harder now, and under his fingers and his imaginings his prick swelled slowly.
‘Ha… ha… ha….’ He took a half-laughing series of breaths and looked down at his
swollen prick.
His voice was
softer and unsteady. ‘Im-pressed?’ he asked the captive girl, his sounds mere
mutterings as he was taking air in bigger gulps now.
He removed his
hand from her thigh and reached his arm out toward the trapped Amazon. The
officer grabbed her hip in his large hand, pulling himself toward her still
form, all the while seeming to enjoy the caress of his fingers on his stiff
member. He immediately began to caress the satin tights, squeezing and
releasing their smoothness, enjoying the tactile softness of the
universally-famous costume. The officer’s cock now stood at the entrance to the
torn opening. Slowly he pulled her toward his thick probe. Her chains rattled
on the stone floor and echoed hollowly in the cell. Then he easily lifted her
hips from the ground; her head dragged along the stone floor, her long raven
hair showing the path of her dishonour. As the officer did so, his manhood
finally rose to its fullness. He started to slide two fingers inside his captive.
And just before he did so a shiver crossed his face, carrying with it clear
evidence of distaste. Then he pushed into her. Wonder Woman, helpless, moaned
loudly. He pushed again and once more she yelped, more quietly this time.
As if speaking
to a small pet, he said, ‘Good girl.’ He withdrew his hand and inserted himself
fully into the Champion of All Women. The dry interior was not welcoming and
Wonder Woman, even in her bewilderment, could tell he was already beginning to
droop.
‘Damn it,’ he
said, and he withdrew slightly and began to pull at his prick again. ‘Damn it!’
He seemed almost angry now.
He was able to
coax it back to life and he climbed on top of the woman. Again, it began to
soften, but he stiffened it with his fingers and finally managed to push them
and it in together.
‘oooooohhhhhhhhhhhgggghhhhhhnnnnn,’ the Amazon moaned weakly.
He pushed
farther. Wonder Woman closed her eyes, like a child waiting for the danger to
pass, and she felt a flush of shame grip her. How could she, the Champion of
the Amazons, be degraded in this way? To be taken without resistance by this…
male. Although this officer had indeed won the bidding, his victory had been
arranged in advance by Kesselmann, who wished to humiliate his prisoner by
having her raped first by this officer, well known for his sexual
preferences.
‘No, no,’ she
whispered again. Her resistance came to a sudden end when a guard’s hand
grasped her hair and smashed the back of her head against the floor of the
cell. Once more, pain and dizziness gripped the poor heroine.
But the officer
was too busy to notice the soldier’s action. He was hard at work, grunting and
thrusting and swearing under his breath. ‘God damn it, God damn it….’
He swelled
inside her. He removed his finger and then he thrust some more, his breath
coming now in large pants, like a horse snorting his way back to the stable
with a full load. His face was a death’s head, eyes screwed up, a grimace
formed around his mouth, every muscle straining and pushing as if it would snap.
Then, suddenly,
there came a great grabbed snort and yell and he fell, limp, on top of the
hapless beauty. A hot stream of sticky fluid rolled out of her and flowed down
her thigh as the officer pushed himself up and withdrew his withered member. He
rolled off her, gasping for breath, like someone rescued from drowning.
He lay for a
moment on his back, half-laughing, half-gasping.
‘The Great
Wonder Woman! I fucked the Great Wonder Woman.’
It was over for
him.
For Wonder
Woman, it was just beginning.
*****
The officer
quickly dressed and, with his retinue, left the cell, leaving the hapless
heroine lying on the floor.
Shortly, she
began to stir, the hot stickiness now dried and the pain of her rape only
slightly diminished. As she rose to her knees, the cell door slammed open
again. Another major, this time bringing six men, a lieutenant and a squad of
solders, trooped into the room. Without a word, two of the enlisted men seized
the Amazon and, firmly gripping her, pulled her roughly to her feet. She
twisted her torso in an effort to resist, but the smiling group of men watched
her failure with something approaching glee.
‘So you choose
to still resist us, Wonder Woman?’ the major said softly. ‘By the time my men
have done their duty, that defiance will be well over.’ He took a step back.
Another enlisted
man entered the prisoner’s cell, carrying a small canvas-backed chair. The
major settled into the chair, loosening his belt as he did so. When he seemed
comfortable, he waved his left hand in the direction of his squad, keeping his
right buried in his trousers.
The two who held
the Amazon prisoner dragged her to the small bed against the wall. Her chains
scraped metallically across the stone floor of the cell, the sound mixing with
the sharp clicking of the Amazon’s boots. When she had been pressed against the
mattress, a third man reached down and tore away the last vestige of her
protection, shredding her star-spangled tights, and tossing them into the
corner near the dented bucket. All this was done under the eyes of the
lieutenant, standing nearby, who oversaw their actions.
The revelation
of her most intimate region caused the major’s eyes to open wide and his right
hand began to shift aggressively. The enlisted man who provided the chair was
the first to approach the restrained Wonder Woman. The weakened prisoner kicked
her legs wildly, hoping to incapacitate the sergeant with a hard blow to his
shin, his groin, even his chest. But the laughter of all of the men emphasised
her failure.
The powerless
Amazon Maiden was held by two of the men, their grunting confirming Wonder
Woman’s resistance, while two more of the soldiers, including the man who had
provided the major with his seat, grabbed the foot of the bed and turned it, so
that now, instead of resting along the wall, it stood outward at an angle,
head-in to the cold stones. Then, those same two men grabbed her legs, one of
them positively caressing the supple, yielding, red leather of her boot.
‘Raoul!’ the lieutenant snapped at him. Shocked
back to the moment, he turned his rapt gaze to the prisoner, all the while
ensuring that her boot did not escape his grip.
The two who held
her legs spread her extremities, opening the hapless heroine to the junior
officer’s assault.
The major merely
watched. His right hand was moving slowly under his trousers; his upper body
was slowly rocking back and forth in the canvas-backed chair; but his eyes were
clear and focused on what the men were doing. ‘Take your time with her,’ he
ordered.
*****
It took almost
an hour and a half for all seven men to rape Wonder Woman. At first, her
resistance was intense, as she struggled against the four men who held her arms
and legs. She twisted and pulled, tried to kick and strike, groaned, shouted
and even attempted to bite the strong young soldiers who restrained her. The
rattling of the infernal links that had taken her strength sounded coldly
across the small cubicle, echoing off the sounding board provided by the stone
walls. But her efforts were all in a lost cause. First the lieutenant, and then
the sergeant, pressed himself painfully into her. Their hands stroked her
thighs, her hips, and what remained of her satin uniform with its golden belt.
In a fit of ecstasy, the younger officer, the first man into her, tore away
part of the golden eagle’s wing that covered and supported her left breast.
When the ample mammary fell into view, there was a collective intake of breath
by all present—even the major, whose rocking quickened and the movement of
whose right hand, still mostly out of sight inside his trousers, became ever
more agitated. The lieutenant’s hand moved to the firm teat and, at first
almost gently, brushed along its side. In short order, however, his fingers
pinched the pale pink nipple and his hips plunged into her harder and harder
and faster and faster until he seemed almost cartoonish in his sexual frenzy.
By the time the
lieutenant and sergeant had finished the heroine’s second and third rapes,
Wonder Woman’s resistance had noticeably diminished. The violence of her
contortions was substantially less; her kicks and tugs on the grips of the men
who held her were less frequent and less vigourous; her screams and cries had
softened to sobs. Tears rolled down the side of her face and disappeared into her
ebony mane, which surrounded her still-beautiful face like a black aura. The
Champion’s breathing was more a whimpering, as she realised that no amount of
resistance could undo the effects of the chains, whose rattling had also been
almost completely stilled.
The
non-commissioned officer’s hot seed still dripped from her, smoothing the entry
of the next soldier, a corporal. But that didn’t mean that his rape was
painless. In fact, the size of his prick meant that he would press deeper still
into the heroine, stretching her internally, until the tip of his manhood
probed the inmost reaches of the Amazon Maiden. She thrashed anew, briefly, at
the intrusion, but her resistance was quickly quelled, both by the strength of
the men who restrained her and her own growing exhaustion. Her resistance would
only rarely flare up sporadically during the remainder of her ordeal. Wonder
Woman had been broken.
‘aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh,’ Wonder Woman sighed in anguish. When
would this end? How can the gods allow this to happen? That she had no answer
for these questions caused her body to finally slump in the grip of the
soldiers. It seemed to offer a visual signal of the end of her resistance.
One after
another then, they raped the helpless Champion of All Women. By the time the
seventh and last of them, a young-looking private, slid between her legs and
pushed his prick into her, it was no longer necessary to restrain her, though
two soldiers stood by to prevent any final resistance from the beaten beauty.
Her eyes had closed and her head was thrown back, revealing the soft and lovely
throat that the young man covered in kisses and bites. Her body was dripping
with sweat despite the cold temperature in the room. Those who had preceded him
stared as he rocked back and forth on top of the prisoner. Her red satin
breastplate was by now torn in several places and the golden eagle’s head,
wing, and talons were ripped away from the soft fabric. As the youth pressed
again and again into his victim, the golden eagle’s head rose and fell as the
remains of her costume were squeezed upward against her now naked breasts,
almost obscenely mirroring his violation.
Powerless and
pitiful, Wonder Woman lay on the low bed, trying to muster enough strength to
simply lift her arms in her own defense. By the time it was over, she failed
even to do this. ‘Hera, help me,’ she thought to herself. ‘Why do you allow
this?’
But there could
be no help for the hapless Amazon Maid. Nor would this squad of rapists be the
end of the savage attacks.
The seventh of
the troops dressed himself, then followed his squad from the cell, leaving the
major still sitting in his canvas-back seat, still fondling himself beneath his
open trousers. His breathing was quick and loud as he now rose unsteadily and
quickly covered the few feet to where the heroine lay. Holding his fully
extended penis and rubbing it to maintain his erection, he leaned over the
unmoving prisoner, and placed himself against her ample breasts, so that his
prick could now explode into her beautiful face.
‘Ugh! Ugh!
Ugh! UUUUUuuuullllggggghhhhhhhhhhh!! UUUuuugggghhh!!’ the major grunted as he came. Each
squeal coincided with a thrust of his hips downward and toward the Princess’
angelic countenace. Each thrust deposited more of his manhood across the captive.
The last two moans were accompanied by numerous ejaculations, so that, as he
finished, he swayed, exhausted and dizzy, as he stood over her.
He regained his
composure and zipped himself. He brushed still-viscous streams of fluid toward
her lips, pushing his fluid between them and into her mouth. ‘You seem,’ he
said, ‘to have ceased your foolish resistance, Wonder Woman.
‘Here,’ he
whispered as he pressed her cheeks to open her ruby lips, ‘take it all. I’m
feeling generous.’ He fairly scooped his cum into her unresisting maw. As it
slid down her throat, the barely conscious Amazon hacked, choking on the briny
seed. She rolled her body over onto her stomach and tried to expel the foul
fluid.
She barely heard
his chuckling as he exited, slamming the door shut loudly behind him.
‘Dear gods and
goddesses, why must I be so treated,’ she prayed. ‘Is this to be the only
result of my mission?’ The humiliation and sense of failure sat on her mind as
she lay with her eyes closed, trying to gather her strength. The salty taste of
her latest conqueror clung to her tongue as she tried to find the strength to
push herself upright.
But the
ratcheting of the key and the crashing open of the heavy door to her cell told
her that she would not have time even for this.
*****
A new squad of
soldiers entered her cell, once more under the command of yet another of the
officers who had witnessed her arrival. The order for their ‘visits’ had been
determined by the bids that they had submitted to Kesselmann and Liddy. This
third officer was not known so much for his sexual prowess as for his enjoyment
of brutality. He carried a tripod and movie camera, along with a small satchel,
which he placed on the floor while he set up his equipment.
The major placed
two powerful lights on opposite sides of the bed, framing the battered Amazon
girl in their brilliant glare. Then he placed the first roll of film in the
camera. He sighted through the eyepiece, framing his shot so that he covered
almost all of the space that was illuminated without having to swivel the
camera.
He then turned
toward the squad leader and gave him a quick nod. Three of his troopers fairly
ran forward and, lining themselves along the side of the bed nearest the wall,
they bent and quickly lifted, heaving the Amazon, along with the mattress and
the bedclothes, to the floor.
Throwing the
metal bed stand out of the camera’s range, two of them grabbed the prisoner and
wrenched the unresisting form of Wonder Woman to her feet. She was unable to
stand after the treatment she had endured. The two enlisted men roughly
supported the Princess, their hands finding their way to her intimate and
secluded places.
When one
private’s fingers penetrated her sex, the Champion responded weakly, her eyes
fluttering open and a weak groan passing her lips. Those same fingers next
found their way between those same ruby lips, to the raucous laughter of all
concerned.
The officer
turned the knob for a tight close-up of her degradation. But he quickly pulled
back for the physical beating the men administered to the unresisting beauty.
Each man took
his turn pounding her famous, flawless face and her powerful torso. Minute
after minute, hard fists crashed into her jaw and cheekbones, her ribs and
breasts, one after another, until it seemed that no mortal could survive the
terrible punishment meted out to the Champion of All Women. Her groans ceased
even before the first of her attackers had finished with her. The soldiers
paused every ten minutes to allow the major to change rolls of film. However,
these intervals were anything but respites for the helpless heroine.
‘Señorita
Wonder Woman. Por favor, don’t hurt us,’ one enlisted man said with mock
sadness, as he pressed his face directly into the Amazon’s. ‘Don’t use your
great strength against we poor men.’
‘Señorita
Wonder Woman. Take pity,’ another said, approaching the prisoner. Reaching out
and taking a firm grip on her jaw, he lifted her face to theirs. ‘Don’t kill
us.’
‘Is this,’ the
first said, his fingers seeking her golden tiara under the tousled ebony mane,
‘a symbol of royalty?’
Wonder Woman
could only cough weakly in reply.
‘So? You are a
Princess?’ he asked. ‘Should a Princess not be able to defend herself? The
movies we see of you here show your great prowess.’
The major
completed his replacing of the roll of film and he quickly signaled his troops
to resume their attack. The whirr of the camera’s gears was loud in the small
cell.
‘Do you not have
great prowess, Señorita Wonder Woman? We have seen you defeat many men in
your history. Is it possible, you are getting to old to be such a great
heroine?’
Once again hard
fists crashed against the beautiful Amazon’s body. Her luscious red lips were
cracked by their force and a trickle of blood poured afresh across her chin,
mixing with the ugly red-brown smear already there, brightening its hue.
Dazed, barely
conscious, barely able to stand, supported upright only by the men who held
her, the Champion felt the sharp pain of each blow as it landed. Each blow
dragged her closer to redeeming unconsciousness.
Suddenly she
felt a large hand firmly grip her thick ebony hair at the back of her head, and
her head was thrust downward, to what end she had no idea. Her face broke
through the thin coating of ice on the surface of water in the bucket. The
sharp coldness of the water, reviving her, snapping her eyes open, also made
her aware of her intense weakness. Too weak to lift her arms in her own
defense, her legs like butter left too long on the table, the muscles of her
upper body even too weak to support her head upright to allow her to face her
attackers. But the cold water shocked her mind back to a sensibility of her
circumstances. A sharp intake of breath, a short shriek of shock before she was
plunged a second time into the frigid liquid. All of this was conscientiously
filmed by the major.
The water flowed
down the sides of her head, coating and streaking the tattered remains of her
costume. It clung to the ends of her long curly locks. Her face had been swept
clear of the bloodstains on her jaw, and now showed only the discolouration of
the bruising inflicted on her by the enlisted men. She hung helpless in their
grip, both her breasts by now exposed; the red satin of her uniform was in
tatters; and the golden eagle ripped and separated from the legendary costume.
Her golden belt, the gift of her mother, hung loosely to her, resting on top of
her finely round hips. With her tights gone, her neatly shaped bush was exposed
and plainly visible to the camera, and her perfectly round thighs still showed
the great power of the superheroine, but this was power which she could no
longer call upon. Her knees were both bent and her calves offered no support to
her dangling body. The red leather of her boots, formerly shiny and glinting the
dim light of the cell, were now scuffed and water-stained. One foot lay on its
side on the floor, while the other seemed to independently seek traction,
though all Wonder Woman could obtain was to appear to stand on tip-toe as she
sought to gain purchase and place her foot under her.
Although the
Champion of All Women was conscious as a result of the freezing water that now
formed a puddle beneath her, when the door slammed open again she barely
responded. It was only when she heard the familiar voice that she struggled to
raise her head.
‘The great
Wonder Woman has nothing to say to the man who has captured her?’ Kesselmann
laughed.
End of Chapter Six
Comments, questions, suggestions welcome: contact
the author at marat1793@comcast.net.