Wonder Woman:
Trial by Ordeal by marat
Chapter Seven
Dazed, battered
and helpless the Amazon Princess struggled to lift her head to face her chief
tormentor. She hung limp in the grip of men bent on inflicting pain, cold water
still rolling down her face but already forming shimmering ice droplets at the
ends of her long, curly black hair. Wonder Woman struggled to get her legs
under her, to stand before the Nazi officer, rather than hang in the grasp of
these men. Her uniform was already in tatters, her bruised body naked to
her enemies; her breaths came in gulps now, but she was, even so, aware that
something even more important was at stake: She must not be defeated by this
man.
Even before she
could get her legs, however unsteadily, under her, the sharp blow of a combat
boot crashing into the back of her knee drove the helpless girl downward. One
of the enlisted men who held her firmly in his grip had brought his foot,
bearing a heavy, steel-toed boot, crashing downward, with all the force he was
able to muster, into the crook behind Wonder Woman’s knee. As he did so, all of
his force and weight came smashing down on the back of her calf as well,
driving the Champion of All Women to her knees before Kesselmann. A yelp of
pain escaped from the Amazon’s lips, and a wave of red passed across her
vision.
‘That’s much
better, Wonder Woman. Much more appropriate that you should grovel before your
master.’ He spoke slowly, almost seeming to struggle for the words.
Wonder Woman
rested on her knees, her head bowed, her body bruised. Too beaten and exhausted
to try to rise, she felt the grip of the soldiers relax and her arms, weighted
down by the heavy steel links that joined her bracelets, slipped downward in
front of her body. Her hands seemed to modestly cover her exposed femininity.
A kick squarely
between her shoulder blades, at the same instant that her arms were released,
sent the heroine face first into the cold stone floor. The sharp crack of
her head hitting the floor echoed in the small cell.
Pain. She
struggled to see through the pain. Only vague forms moved dimly through her
sight. The Amazon Champion blinked her eyes vigourously, trying to clear her
vision, trying to remove the demons moving about in a fog and change them into
men. The ringing in her ears obliterated all other sounds.
‘n…
n…n-n-nnoo,’ the heroine
mumbled, barely above a whisper. She would not allow Kesselmann his victory,
and her hands felt for the floor under her, so that she could push herself
upwards. Chains clinked against stone.
But she had
barely lifted her face from the smooth, hard rock, when yet another sharp kick,
this one to the jaw, almost lifted her bodily from the floor of the cell. The
metallic clanking of her chains mixed with the scuffling of her now almost
naked body as the powerless woman came to rest against the wall. Tattered
pieces of red and gold satin littered the path her body took as the battered
girl careened across the compartment. When she raised her head to find her
enemy, still another kick sent her head crashing backwards against the hard
cold stone.
Then three of
the enlisted men were upon her, kicking and punching her, laughing and swearing
at the same time. Hard fists crashed into her jaw and temple and her ribs and
breasts, and kicks thudded against her stomach and hips and even directly into
her sex. ‘Ah! Ah!’ cmoaned the helpless heroine, each time her cry of
pain was weaker than the last. Fresh rivulets of her blood rolled down her
face, matted her hair, and even splattered the wall above her. And all the
while the officer filmed the event, his professional sensibilities capturing
the full degradation of Wonder Woman’s defeat.
Kesselmann
slowly walked toward where she lay, his limp clearly evident, but his air that
of a conqueror. He stood over his victim, smiling down at the battered, beaten
Champion. ‘This is the price of pride,’ he said hoarsely. He raised his walking
stick and brought the heavy wooden handgrip smashing down on the unresisting
head of his prisoner.
Her small, cold
world went black.
*****
When she awoke,
her companion, pain, had not abandoned her. The remains of her costume had been
taken from her, and all that remained of Wonder Woman’s renowned uniform was
her tiara, her boots, and her bracelets, still linked by…
Not by chains,
but by a single link. The chains had been replaced by one large steel circle,
less than three inches in diameter. A single link attached to this circle of
steel from each of her Amazon bracelets and from anklets clapped over her
leather boots ensured that the Amazon’s strength would not return; the
arrangement would also prevent any freedom of movement. The superheroine had
been propped upright in a wood-and-metal contraption. The full weight of her
body was on her knees, which were settled on a 4x4 piece of hardwood about
three feet long. The unsmoothed surface of the wood ground into the Amazon’s
joints. Arising behind the piece of wood, and attached to it, was a thick,
round metal post, which held the wood about two feet above the floor, and which
itself rose all the way to just below the heroine’s neck. About a foot in
diameter, Wonder Woman could feel its stark coldness against her back, which
was pressed against the steel, against her upper arms, which had been pulled
back behind her painfully, and against her knees and calves. Her wrists and
ankles had been secured together, but only by that single circle of steel, so
that not more than three inches separated the Amazon bracelets from the similar
anklets that encircled the scuffed leather of her boots. Her arms were
painfully stretched downward behind her. Her legs were bent at the knee and her
calves angled upward from being parallel with the floor, two feet below. In
this position her chest was thrust out, the perfectly round globes of her breasts
evident to the coterie of military officers who watched her resuscitation with
evident pleasure and amusement. Her hips were also thrust forward, her thighs
spread. The steel pillar passed between her knees, behind her.
Kesselmann was
directly in front of his prisoner. He shifted his weight slowly, rhythmically,
from his sound right foot to the weakened left, as he seemed to enjoy the
evident agony of his captive. When he spoke to her, it was in a quiet, almost
confidential voice. Even the officers standing close by could barely hear the
exchange. ‘Dear Diana. The mighty
Wonder Woman. Once more you are my prisoner, and this time you will not escape.
We will not underestimate you, as we did last time.’
‘And, once
again,…’ the Amazon gasped, ‘you are taking credit… for something others have
done,… Kesselmann. I… surrendered to… Liddy only… in order to save a friend.’
The difficulty of speaking pained the Princess from Paradise Island.
Kesselmann
brightened at the Amazon’s struggle. ‘Liddy was working for me,’ retorted the
Nazi officer. ‘Surely you understand the responsibility and accountability of
command, working all those years in military intelligence.’
The heroine was
stunned that Kesselmann would know of her work. Her eyes widened, but she
remained silent.
Kesselmann
shuffled a few paces away from his captive. Then, turning, he said, more
loudly, ‘And your friend? Miss… Penelope, was it?’ He evidently wanted his
guests to hear this part of the exchange.
Wonder Woman
felt a cold shiver of fear race through her body. What had happened to
Penelope? Liddy had promised…
‘By this time,
she should have savoured the same experience you have enjoyed here.’ Kesselmann
smiled, revealing the steel replacement dentures on the left side of his jaw.
The shattered left half of his face had never offered any kind of expression,
either of pleasure or approval, or of anger. But as he spoke now, his whole
body seemed to be enveloped in a joy that was unprecedented. ‘You, because of
your Amazon heritage, no doubt have fared better than she has.’
‘But…’ Wonder
Woman gasped harshly, angrily, and in pain, ‘Liddy said…’
‘Yes, I know
what Liddy said. And what he told you was a necessary lie.’ His triumph was
complete; it was evident in his entire demeanor. ‘As I said earlier’ and here
Kesselmann turned to face the prisoner, ‘Liddy serves me. As a good soldier, he
was bound to obey orders.’ He smiled, the metal teeth gleaming in the harsh
lighting. ‘As one of your leaders in the late war, Winston Churchill, said, “In
war, the truth is so valuable that it is necessary to protect it with a
bodyguard of lies.” For thirty years, Wonder Woman, I have been at war. With you!’
Tears welled up
in Wonder Woman’s eyes and burst forth, running down her face. The dried blood
deepened to a more reddish colour around her mouth and jaw. ‘Gods, no.
Penelope.’ Her body shook in anguish as she realised that her actions had been
in vain. Immediately pain shot up her arms to her shoulders, but she continued
to weep at the fate of her friend.
‘Yes, Wonder
Woman.’ The Nazi general’s voice rose now, as the Princess was reduced to tears
before the crowded assembly. ‘You took from me the support of the Führer. Because
of your escape, I was sent to Russia. My enemies expected me to die, my friends
merely hoped for my survival. But it was there that I displayed my true heroism
and I regained his’ –Kesselmann spoke the pronoun with an adoration that
was evident to all— ‘his trust in me. I was promoted to general, for my
leadership ands skill.
‘It was around
that time that some friends notified me of the capture of your friend Fausta.
They were very… comprehensive… in their description of her… interrogation.’ The
Nazi officer chose his words very carefully and Wonder Woman felt increased
agony as he poured his bile. Another strong woman had died because of her
association with the Amazon Princess and her principles. Thirty years ago,
Fausta; now, Penelope.
‘She was in much
the same position, in a similar device, as you find yourself now, when she
finally surrendered to our SS interrogators. She confessed to acts of sabotage
in the Reich, to organising resistance groups, and that it was, in fact,
me who had captured Wonder Woman, an act for which she had tried to
claim the glory.’ Kesselmann was speaking faster now, caught up in the story of
his rehabilitation. ‘The Führer heard the reports of what she had done,
how she had disgraced herself. He learned of how she attempted to undermine my
authority during our investigation of Wonder Woman’s powers; how she tried to
mislead me with the fantastic stories of a magic lasso and how your powers
disappeared when your golden belt was removed. In fact, I was the one who
learned the truth about linking your bracelets: I was the one who put you in
chains.
‘Do you deny that
she was the one who released you from them?’
Wonder Woman
glared at the old man through the pain. How could he say such things about so
brave a woman as Fausta Grebel? Fausta had captured her. She had been
the first to use chloroform against the strength of the Amazon. Fausta
had brought her back to Germany for questioning; brought her back in chains. Fausta
had understood the secrets of the golden lasso and had learned, too late, of
Kesselmann’s desire for power. Fausta had been the one who freed her from the
chains. She spat out the single word, ‘Liar!’ and was again seized by
sharp pain in her arms and legs.
‘Fausta Grebel
told a different story,’ he said smugly, ‘before she died.
‘But now we must
give ourselves over to some more enjoyment. If you are to be the incubator for
our new Führer, it will be necessary to keep you alive long enough to
serve our needs. But precisely what kind of life it will be… well, that will de
a matter for some discussion.’ He laughed.
*****
Wonder Woman
suffered in the position that had been forced upon her for what could only have
been hours, all the while listening to the mocking laughter of the officers who
came and went. Gods, why? she thought to herself. Why have you sent me to Man’s
world and allowed this? Why have good women—good people—died when they
have embraced the Princess’s message of the power of Love? Is the evil of Men
so great that even the gods cannot prevail against it? What level of virtue
must the Amazons marshal in order to be successful against such power of evil?
Her breasts had
become red from the fondling that every visitor inflicted upon her. Many of the Chilean officers had roughly
manhandled the ample mammaries, and then burtalised the heroine because she did
not respond to their ministrations as they wished. Occasionally a fierce blow
was struck at her head or torso at such moments, or a sharp twist applied to
the reddened nipple sent spasms of pain right to her spine. Her ruby lips had
been split by such blows and the smear of blood across her cheeks and jaw
became increasingly ugly as her torment went on.
But it was the
two or three officers who had caressed the globes delicately, playfully
flicking the nipple or, using a long fingernail, barely brushed the surface of
the pale pink, perfectly round aureole, who aroused the helpless Amazon. The
casual lovingness of a young man’s touch, coupled with the hours of pain, and,
now, feelings of the beginning of hunger, a lack of sleep, and, not least of
all, the presence of the links that secured her Amazon bracelets—all these
things combined at those moments to raise what would be recognised as passion
at other times. One young captain was particularly adept at securing a response
from the prisoner. He manipulated the breasts both separately and together. The
highly sensitive peaks were alternately brushed lovingly by his agile fingers
and pinched, just painfully enough, by the almost feminine nails. Her pressed
the majestic round orbs together, rubbing them tenderly, lighting a fire inside
the Amazon’s chest. As she twisted even slightly in the sensuality of those
moments, new pain raced up her arms to her shoulders and she cried out.
Laughing, the captain repeated the procedure, three, four times, each with the
same result. Later he returned with friends, who seemed to enjoy the spectacle
of the Amazon Princess’ agony.
Other officers
seemed to enjoy sucking at her glorious tits, licking them, making an effort to
wrap their mouths around the peaks of those enticing mounds, and failing to do
so, pressing their faces against the firm flesh. Dried saliva discoloured her
chest.
But the men with
oral fixations were not the only ones who left a deposit on the marvelous body
of the Champion of All Women. Usually these soldiers arrived alone, carefully checking
the hallway beyond the door for any others who might be seeking a little
recreation. Her posture prevented any possibility of entering the Amazon, but
her helplessness appealed to a large segment of these officers. Crusty white
patches were evident on Wonder Woman’s thighs, her stomach and back and hips,
and even small residues, where the masturbating soldiers had spurted their
seed, on her shoulders and around her breasts. As the evidence of this semen
became noticeable to those who preferred to suck at her mammaries, the
incidence of that form of satisfaction had diminished.
Some had tried
to place their jaws between her thighs and get a taste of her womanhood. Only
one had succeeded. This particularly tall young lieutenant had dropped to his
knees and pushed his mouth directly into the heroine’s toit. At first, he made
odd sucking noises, but soon his tongue pressed inside the Amazon. He gripped
her hips with both hands as he tried to push deeper into her vulnerable sex,
feeling his way past the sheath and around the sex organs themselves. He seemed
familiar with a woman’s internal geography, and Wonder Woman, desperately
trying to retain some measure of the final shreds of her dignity, even in her
dreadfully weakened state, finally felt herself succumb to his oral exercise.
He lightly bit at her interior, sending shivers of sexual excitement throughout
her body. Each time she felt her muscles convulse in response to the stimulus
of the officer, a simultaneous stab of pain reminded the helpless girl of her
helplessness and prevented any gratification of her natural desire. But he left
a large deposit of his own seed before her, as if at a pagan altar, where it
mingled with a small deposit of her own.
Throughout this
trial, she was rarely alone. No sooner had one of her tormentors left than
another would arrive. In those exceptional minutes of solitude, the Champion
sought refuge in sleep. But even her dreams mocked her, as visions of Penelope
and Fausta pleaded with the superheroine to rescue them.
Each time she
failed.
*****
Finally, Wonder
Woman was roused from her fitful sleep and the attendant nightmares of bungling
when Kesselmann re-entered the cell where she was displayed for the officers.
Accompanying the maimed Nazi general was a gaggle of strutting military men,
smiling and expectant. They gathered around the poised Princess, watching
breathlessly the shrunken figure who stood, as always listing slightly to his
left, before the exhausted heroine.
‘You must be
prepared to receive the Führer’s seed,’ he said slowly, almost
reverently. There was some giggling among a small group of the officers behind
him, but they were quickly silenced by others. ‘Your womb will be receptive
only months from now, but once that moment arrives, the egg cannot fail to be
implanted. Therefore,’ here he turned to the Chilean officer standing nearest
to him, ‘you must be made more receptive to the sacred embryo you will carry.’
When he turned
back to the hapless prisoner, Wonder Woman was first startled to see the size
of the object he held. Its purpose was only too obvious, but it was the sheer
enormity of the shiny black phallus that caused the Amazon Maiden to stare. It
must have been twenty inches high and almost two inches in diameter at the base
of the probe itself. Surely he couldn’t intend…!?!
All of the
officers watching with Kesselmann were smiling broadly, leering, at the plight
of the helpless heroine. The Nazi himself, his features broken in that war so
long ago, looked more like a skull as he gazed at her. ‘And this object has one
additional feature which I’m sure,’ he said slowly, savouring every word, ‘you
will find most engaging.’ Flicking a switch near the base of the shiny black
probe, a small whirring sounded across the space between them. Barely
audible at first, as he approached Wonder Woman the noise became more distinct.
The tip was
vibrating madly, its back-and-forth motion a blur of action across a small
space at the head of the object.
‘The smoothness
of the material will ensure that no part of your reproductive region is
harmed,’ Kesselmann said, as he handed it to a subordinate who would place it
in a small recess in the pedastal on which the Amazon was poised. ‘But its
action will stimulate you sexually in such a way as to ensure the seating of
the egg when it is deposited. Repeated applications of this stimulus will
ensure your receptivity to implantation in the spring.
‘There will be
no failure in this experiment. The Führer’s DNA will be placed in the
egg. The egg will be implanted in your womb. The embryo of the next Adolf
Hitler will be born. I will resurrect him, and with him, his movement. I will
be his John the Baptist.’
‘Sieg Heil!!
Sieg Heil!! ’
The words
cracked off the stone walls of the room, and the bound Champion wondered
whether she had somehow been transported back to Berlin in 1942.
*****
‘Uugggghh—AAAAAHHHH!!!’
Wonder Woman
felt the tip of the object pass through the entrance of her sex, its slow,
inexorable upward movement as tormenting to the captive as it was tantalising
to the military observers. The phallus’ cold hardness only added to a
stimulation which was at first merely unsettling. Kesselmann flicked the toggle
switch at the base of the object only after it had just passed the lips of the
entrance to the bound Amazon. The vibrating tip almost immediately played
itself against the full circumference of her vagina. As it whipped and rubbed
against the sensitive tissue, moving so rapidly that it seemed to be
stimulating the entire circumference of her organ simultaneously, the bound
Amazon Princess felt her powerlessness serving to excite her.
The beautiful
Amazon Maid had long understood that her strength as an Amazon was one of her
chief defenses against Man’s world and its terrors. When she was weakened,
bound by chains, that very weakness sometimes became sexually exhilarating. In
her current condition, with her weakness made manifest and constantly foremost
in her awareness, she now felt jabs of sensuality plunge deep into her. It was
the same sensuality she had felt on Paradise Island, as a young girl, when she
had given herself over to one of her Amazon sisters, when she had allowed
herself to adopt the subordinate position in the act of love. As Princess
Diana, she was always expected to be the dominant partner, and many of her
consorts feared the wrath of Hippolyte if the Queen were to learn of the
Princess becoming the slave.
But, secretly,
Princess Diana enjoyed the occasional opportunity to cast off the
responsibility of always being in charge, to cease being royalty. And in those
moments of submission, the woman whom the outside world only knew as Wonder
Woman could give herself over totally in the act of love to its accompanying
sensations.
Penelope had
understood this need as well as her Amazon sisters, and allowed the heroine to
adopt this passive role whenever she wished. The athletic blonde was a perfect
companion at those moments, stimulating, directing, leading the Champion of All
Women not to the derogation of a slave but to the fulfillment of her fantasies.
Penelope.
The reminder of
her partner and friend also stabbed into the prisoner’s heart and soul. Her
current helplessness was reinforced as she realised that her lover had been
murdered by the order of the man who stood in front of her. The vision of
Penelope’s long, straight blonde hair; the softness of her peaches-and-cream
skin laying across those hard muscles of her arms and legs; her small perky
breasts that fit so conveniently into Diana’s mouth; the taut abdomen; her
smell: as memories flooded through the captive’s senses, the humiliation of the
loss of her friend joined together with her current weakness and her emotions
exploded. Tears welled up in her eyes as the combination of passion and shame
overwhelmed her.
At the same time,
the vibrator was vigourously beating against her interior, and the physical
stimulation quickly became more than the powerless heroine could endure.
Already weakened by the links that joined her bracelets and the hours of
torment at the hands of the officers, the lovely Amazon Maiden surrendered to
the device and to her memories.
‘OOOOOOOHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhllllllllggggg!!’
‘Behold,
gentlemen! The great Wonder Woman of America! The most powerful female on
earth! Quivering and crying like a silly girl! The Champion of All Women!
Debased before us and reduced to her proper status!
The combination
of physical and mental pain, on the one hand, and the manufactured sexual
pleasure, on the other, was unendurable. The once powerful Amazon Champion felt
the sharp spasms of agony rip along her arms to her shoulders and then back
again, the painful torture never giving her respite. At the same time, the
vibrator tip that was now mere centimeters inside her sent paroxysms of an
entirely different sensation erupting from her sensitive entrance across her
hips and deep into her, all the way to the base of her spine. Shaking as she
wept openly, mourning the loss of her lover and the hallowed memories of the
now-dead girl, she tried to draw her knees together, to pull the hard, black
lover closer into her. But the position in which her bondage placed her sent a
sharp prick of new pain through her body, from her feet to the small of her
back.
‘AAAIIIIIIIYYYYYYYyyyyyyyyyyygggggggggghhhhhhh!’
Wearing only her
golden tiara, her red leather boots, and the linked Amazon bracelets, the naked
woman’s muscular body visibly quaked as grief and pain overtook her at last.
‘OOOOoooooooooooohhhh—hhhooooo—mmmmmnnnnnnnnnn!’
Supporting her
body on the points of her knees, Wonder Woman felt the combination of pain and
pleasure sear through her. The black probe whose tip had now totally
disappeared into her sat almost majestically between her perfect, round thighs,
rising slowly into the helpless girl, carrying its pleasure closer and closer
to fruition. As it was raised with mechanical slowness by the altar on which
the Champion was pinioned, it sent rapture to the girl’s interior. The tip was
searching out the beautiful Amazon Princess’ g-spot, but in doing so, it
invariably forced passionate responses from the victim as a result of its
contact with other sensitive zones.
The pricking was
even deeper inside Wonder Woman now. Its depth would be measured in inches, and
the remorseless, inexorable lover pressed deeper and deeper. Its constantly
twisting, gyrating tip aroused the helpless heroine. And the reminiscences of
her lover’s gentle touch, smell, and technique magnified the heights she
reached.
‘Pennnnelll—oooooohhhhhhhhh!
AH! AH! AAAAAaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’
She came for the
first time.
As she did, her
body spasmed, and pain, the sister to her pleasure, shot through all of her
physical being. Her head fell back, her long black hair, defiled by spit and
semen, cascading all the way to her bound wrists, drawn nearly to her booted
ankles and locked behind the metal post. In the room’s bright ceiling lights,
the gold of her tiara glinted brightly, and the helplessness on her face was
evident for all to see. Her mouth hung open and a combination of tears and sweat
rolled down the sides of her face, falling off in droplets onto her arms and
the bare floor below. Soon the spatters formed small pools.
The beauty of
the woman stunned those who watched. Laughter had filled the room from the
moment of her first cry of agony, but as she had risen to such heights of
ecstasy as few had ever scaled, the sheer physical allure of the Champion of
All Women overwhelmed all who saw her. The laughter faded. Many of the officers
cupped their hands in front of them, masking the massaging their groins.
‘OOOOOOHHHHHHH!
OOOOHHHH!! OOOHHH!!! OOHH!!!!’
The heaving
chest and the sweating form of the mightiest of earth’s women captivated the
Chilean officers. Even in her pain, her body shook, pulled at its bonds,
strained against the links which stole its strength. Overwhelmed by the vision
of her lover, recalling the sensuality of their last embrace, mere days ago,
the powerless Amazon girl gave herself over to the power of her love.
The posture in
which she knelt on her altar brought the black object penetrating her to her
most sensitive point. There, for a moment, the object would press not deeper
into the prisoner, though that course would eventually be resumed, but rather
it would push harder against the tissue wall as if attempting to burst through
her mons veneris from inside her. Her body quaked at the stimulation, tears
streaked down the side of her face, sweat flowed from her pores and rolled in
huge droplets down her face, neck, shoulders and breasts. Her taut abdomen glistened
with perspiration in the harsh light of her prison. The muscles in her thighs
visibly quivered and she pressed her knees against the board on which they
rested in an effort to relieve the pain that accompanied the pleasure she now
sought to amplify. Her cries of bliss were mixed with the sobs of a woman in
agony. She threw her head about, the black hair forming a billowing cloud
around her head, as she seemed to be willing herself to absorb the punishment
as a price for the exultation she felt.
She came again,
her honey this time running freely down the shaft of the probe. And then she
came once more, the sweet-smelling substance seeming to jet from her to the
base of the object and then to the floor.
‘Look,
gentlemen,’ Kesselmann said, laughing, ‘see the indecent slut, how she gives
herself over to sensual pleasure for your entertainment.’
But Wonder Woman
didn’t hear him. For the poor Amazon, the ringing in her ears and the rushing
wind that filled her head both overwhelmed anything that could be heard in the
room. But Kesselmann’s remark evoked no laughter. For the men observing their
prisoner, the tension was sharp enough to be cut with a knife.
End of Chapter Seven
Comments, questions, suggestions welcome: contact
the author at marat1793@comcast.net.