Wonder Woman: Trial by Ordeal
by marat
Chapter One
'Come, my little slut,' Valdez was saying quietly. 'Show me again the wonders,' he paused, 'of your talents.'
Wonder Woman flushed. Fear caused sweat to roll down her shoulders and form on her palms.
'Put your mouth again around me, fondle me with your tongue, press your delicate fingers into my balls. Do all the things you have done so—wonderfully. For you seem to be so appropriately named, Wonder Woman. Come, my little slut, come to me and display your wonders: your beautiful breasts, so firm, yet so giving; your mouth, so talented; your toit, so sweet-smelling and ever remaining tight. You are truly a wonder: a goddess by your beauty and strength; a mere girl by your innocence and fragility; and a true woman, for I have experienced you, I have known you, as only a real man can know a woman.'
Wonder Woman's breathing became shallower as Valdez humiliated her in front of the other men, recounting the smallest details of his rape, her degradation. She felt the weakness slowly spread from her chest and shoulders.
'Come, my little slut. Show me again the ecstasy you alone seem able to bring to any—to every—man. The silken skin of your belly, wet with our mixed sweat; your muscular thighs, wrapped around my waist, holding me to you as our bodies join in bliss; your lips, soft on my own or wrapped around me, engaging my prick. Come, Wonder Woman, my little slut. Show us the sluttish talents that make you every man's fantasy. Show me again the sluttish talents that make you my slut.'
Wonder Woman's throat was already dry and her voice came out of the darkness as a harsh whisper. 'I'm—not a—slut.' She was sweating heavily now.
'Oh, but you are,' Valdez continued, his voice never rising above the quiet level at which it had started. 'You have performed well for me.' And he began again, describing, in intimate detail, her disgrace. 'I remember how your hands, how your soft hands, slowly and exquisitely brushed from my balls upward and across my stomach as you sucked my cock, Wonder Woman. I remember taking one of them and guiding it to my ass, and how delicately—and expertly—you pushed your finger into me, heightening my sensual pinnacle. I remember how, your mouth filled with my cum, you fell on your back and spread your legs for my friend and me. I remember your whorish moans, how your sensuality filled your voice with a cry for pity, and you drove us to unimagined heights of rapture. I lay on top of your strong and supple body, and yet it was you who drove your mouth against mine; your tongue pressed so deeply into my mouth that you explored to entire geography of the roof of my mouth with it. You were still, almost completely still, as you lay beneath me. I felt the pressure of your mouth against mine, and I felt the circular movement of your hips. Even pressed against the floor, they moved round and round, in small circles, taking me with them. Then they moved up and down, and in and out, and then back to circles again. Truly, your abilities to tantalise a male, to drive a man to sexual fulfillment, to harden me and to keep me there, all of these talents are those of a slut. Do you remember the demand that you keep me erect for ten minutes without cumming? You did that, and so much more.'
Suddenly, she saw his right fist flash out, catching the Champion square on the jaw. She fell heavily against the wall next to the door and slid to the floor, stunned, but not unconscious. The huge Cuban pounced on the figure and wrapped his mammoth hand around her bustier, holding it between her ample breasts. He pulled her up to a sitting position. He punched her twice more, the savagery of the blows echoing in her head. She slipped to the floorboards, unmoving. When he removed his hand from her cleavage, it was covered with her sweat. Valdez paused and brought it up to his face, sniffing her odor, and, in doing so, catching his breath. He briefly stared down at her before gently lifting her to her feet.
Her entire body shone with a coating of sweat. Portions of red satin just below her breasts were stained a deeper colour. So were the upper limits of the back of the bustier, where rivulets of perspiration still ran all the way from her shoulders. The blue satin of her tights was almost completely stained a darker blue, front and rear, the white stars standing out now in sharper contrast with the richer, bluer hue. Her deep blue eyes were closed, beads of sweat surrounding them on her forehead, on her model's cheekbones, even on the straight bridge of her nose. The nostrils flared widely as her breathing came shallowly, but rapidly. Her mouth was open slightly and her white teeth glistened. The pink of her perfectly formed aureoles peeked over the top of the stained red satin. Her arms hung loosely at her sides, useless, seemingly weighed down by the Amazon bracelets at her wrists. The red leather of her boots glistened, and the leather itself complained softly as she slowly walked into the darkness, supported by the huge Cuban.
'Wha-what are you going to do with me?' Wonder Woman was barely audible as she regained consciousness. Her hands found a steel collar enclosed her throat. Without effect, her fingers tugged at the ring. Failing, they fell weakly back to the bed.
'Quiet, you bitch!' Valdez ordered firmly.
Wonder Woman watched helplessly, unmoving, as Valdez raised a leather whip. She stared as the giant brought it down with unrestrained force just below her diaphragm.
He stepped toward her and took hold of the golden belt that hung askew around her waist. He twisted it so that the clasps, which were usually against her back, faced him. He easily took them apart and pulled the glistening belt from her. He slipped the lasso from its place and set it on the night table.
'Please, no,' she whispered.
Diana awoke as Penelope's tight grip on her shoulder and frenzied shaking of her bedmate finally cut through the nightmare. Her eyes refused to open as if afraid that the images of the dream would not give way to the darkness of the bedroom.
Diana's mumbling had grown louder as she had relived, yet again for perhaps the third time on this night, the experience of her defeat and humiliation. The frantic sounds that arose from the nightmare had awakened Penelope and the struggles of the Champion of All Women against her huge Cuban tormentor had shaken the bed.
Penelope felt the clamminess of her partner's skin against the palm of her hand. As she peered toward the face of her lover, she could tell, even in the dark, that rivulets of sweat were pouring down her face and neck, and that once again Wonder Woman's most recent brush with death was exerting its influence on her efforts to refresh herself with sleep.
'Please tell me about what happened, Diana,' the blonde said. She looked over at the luminous clock face beside the bed. It was almost 3.15. 'Sometimes you can't internalise these things. I can't do anything about what happened, but if you share the burden…'
Tears welled up in the Amazon Princess' eyes, finally overflowing and pouring down her face. Her shoulders shook violently as she sobbed, recalling the humiliation. 'Oh, dear Penelope.' She embraced her roommate, pulling herself toward her friend. 'There are simply some things that I can't tell you,' she said slowly, but then she hurried on, 'I can't tell anyone these things. It's a part of my life as a representative of the Amazon culture in Man's world. Many, maybe even most, Men are coming—slowly—to recognise that my message is valid and meaningful. But there are those who are frightened by the Change that that message represents. These Men allow Evil to rule them, and they strike out at that which they can't control.'
Penelope wrapped her arms around Wonder Woman and the two bodies slowly lowered to the sheets. 'I know that you've been raped before, remember? I was a witness to what happened when you fell into the hands of Kane's troops. I even saw the result of what happened to you at the Senator's house.'
'And you offered to help me, putting yourself in jeopardy. That's why I can't tell you. You would likely place yourself in harm's way.' She pulled the blonde closer to her. 'I couldn't bear the thought that I would be responsible for anything happening to you.'
The women kissed, Diana's passion seizing her as she crushed her bedmate's body in her smooth but powerful arms. Fearful of hurting Penelope, she immediately released her grip, but then quickly embraced her again. 'Don't leave me,' Diana whispered.
'Never,' Penelope said, smiling in the darkness. She pressed her lips to Diana's. Then she kissed her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, her eyes, and her forehead. Each successive kiss was a little longer, a little more passionate, and when she had delivered the last one, Penelope wrapped her arms in an embrace around her lover's neck, pressing Diana's face into her chest.
Immediately, Penelope felt Diana's lips and tongue wrap themselves around her nipple. When the Princess nibbled at that sensitive peak, her emotions soared, and she pushed herself at the Amazon. 'Oh, Diana,' she whispered. The athletic blonde arched her back and neck; Diana's licking of the light brown node penetrated all the way to her spine. Her roommate's fingers played around her sex organs, and the long fingernails brushed sensuously across the opening, until, finally, two of them wriggled past the inviting entrance.
The Amazon's mouth clung to the ample breast of her bedmate, tongue lapping and lashing the hardening nipple, her teeth playfully nibbling the marble-like tip. When she heard Penelope begin to groan, ecstasy rushed through her and her fingers began to seek her friend's interior. She could smell the intermingling of their sweat and the odor acted as an aphrodisiac; like a pheromone it pulled the two bodies closer together until they were a tangling, intertwining mass of limbs and moans.
Diana's fingers penetrated Penelope's vagina, circling the mouth of the blonde's sex, alternately stroking the lip on her entrance and pressing into the inviting cavern. Then, once she was inside, the circles continued, pressing harder and harder against the soft tissue, moving inexorably toward the athletic blonde's G-spot. She felt when Penelope's honey began to flow, barely noticeable at first. As soon as it touched her fingertips, the heroine removed her fingers and brought the tangy digits to her face. The familiar odor of Penelope's sex wafted into Diana's nose. But the familiarity only raised her sexual tension even higher. She licked her fingertips and then moved the hand back to her bedmate's entrance.
Penelope reached her lips down toward the side of Diana's head, her lips and tongue penetrating the long black tresses that were so well known as Wonder Woman's crowning glory, searching for her ear. Eventually she reached her goal, and her tongue swept out tiny circles as the girl penetrated the canal. The two women held one another in an embrace that strained both of their remarkable physical attributes.
'Talk to me. Please, Diana,' the Princess heard her friend whisper. One of the blonde's hands found Wonder Woman's awesome buttocks and one of her fingers crept toward the hole that was concealed by those perfect and muscular semicircles. Penelope's expert tongue coupled with a delicious nibbling of her ear, and at the same time the surprising, dexterous, and equally proficient digits breached her rear's defenses; Wonder Woman's powerful body suddenly went limp in Penelope's arms.
'Talk to me. Please.'
'I… I can't… tell you about it. It's… too terrible.'
'You have to share both the good and the bad. You tell me only the good.'
Diana had long known that her relationship with Penelope would depend on what she did in the next few moments. She knew that this confrontation would eventually come. She had hoped that more than a few months would have passed since they had first moved in together. Would her friend be ready for what must follow?
'You know why I am here, why I left Paradise Island.' The Amazon heroine heaved a sigh of resignation, and her reluctance to confide in her friend melted away with the sigh.
'Yes, we've talked many times about your mission,' Penelope said softly, relaxing her embrace and allowing the two women to get more comfortable. Then they were lying side by side on the large bed. The young blonde girl kept her arm behind her friend's shoulders to provide continued assurance of her support as the Champion of All Women told her some of the unspeakable evils that been done to her since her arrival in Man's World.
She heard of rapes and attempted rapes and humiliations beyond comprehension. She heard for the first time of Dr. Psycho, the malignant dwarf from World War II-era America, who made it his personal crusade to destroy the Amazon in order to avenge himself on all the women in his past who had hurt or rejected him. She heard about what really happened when the Nazis captured Wonder Woman for the first time and she was taken to Schloss Stoessel, where she was interrogated and tortured. The truth was very much at odds with the official version that declared that the Amazon had escaped unscathed from her captors.
Penelope learned of other opponents, like Fausta, the powerful Nazi superwoman who captured her, but who, as a result of the efforts of Wonder Woman, was later turned into a reliable agent operating in Europe, until her capture and death by torture at the hands of her former Nazi comrades; and Angleman, the mysterious and wealthy supercriminal, who apparently had access to many of those secrets uncovered during the Nazi interrogation, and who sold some of them to the American underworld. His aim seemed to be to reduce the Amazon Princess to a mere whore who obeyed his slightest command.
Each of the examples included details of rape, degradation, and men's diabolical search for a means to destroy the force for Good that Wonder Woman represented. Each of time Wonder Woman fell into the hands of her enemies, whether she was sexually assaulted or no, it seemed that the ultimate goal was not the sex—for that was only a symbol of a man's domination of the ultimate Woman—but the disgrace and the visible shaming of Wonder Woman.
Penelope opened her mouth to speak, and then quickly shut it again, for she couldn't quite form the question that the tale raised. Diana turned slightly on the bed. 'What is it?' she asked.
'I know that if I were to ask, "Why, then, do you continue?" you would return to the urgency of your mission,' Penelope began, forming her words carefully. 'But… but I have to ask: If the attacks on you are _so_sexual in nature, why not defuse that element? Have you thought about making yourself less of a sexual object?'
Diana turned so that she was now resting her head on Penelope's stomach. She brought her arm around and gently brushed her blonde friend's side with her hand. For her part, Penelope brought her free arm to the one that remained around Diana's shoulders and held the Champion in a loose embrace. 'You mean my costume.
'When I first arrived in America, she was involved in a great war with the enemies of freedom. In 1942, she had suffered the greatest military disaster in her history at Pearl Harbor, a disaster from which she would not recover for many years. The costume I wore symbolised many things: of course the colours were those of the American flag and were designed to inspire that generation to rise from their defeat to take on the forces of tyranny.
'It was a different generation, a different time. When I arrived from Paradise Island, it is true that my uniform made men turn their heads, perhaps even filled them with desire. But most men, at least publicly, were restrained by their civil nature.' By this time the Amazon Princess' voice was more distant, more thoughtful. Penelope believed that she was, maybe for the first time, actually articulating her ideas about the changes she had seen in her many years in America.
'To that generation fighting in the great World War II, the symbols of America were to be honoured simply because they were symbols of America. There's something of the Romans in that kind of unquestioning reverence. I was able to move comfortably in American society and do my part without fearing for my safety here.
'The Nazis, of course, despised my uniform, not only because it seemed to emblazon American patriotism, who was their enemy, but also because the Amazon values that were symbolised in my tiara, my bracelets, my belt and my eagle breastplate were antithetical to everything they preached: My tiara was a sign of my rank as a Princess of Themiscyra, a society of equals; my bracelets symbolised their slavery at the hands of Hercules, and the freedom won at so great a price; my Girdle of Hippolyte was a gift from my mother, the Queen, freely given and was the means of sustaining my strength and youth in Man's World. They started a rumour that removing my belt would deprive me of my strength, a story that has even survived their defeat. Because others were ready to believe this, I was able to use their lack of knowledge against them. The eagle, which the Nazis and Japanese believed to be a symbol of America, is actually drawn from the Roman Republic, a society in which rich and poor sought to build a great society on the basis of equality before the law.
'So, for all of these reasons, I was accepted then, loved in America and despised by her enemies.'
'What changed?'
Wonder Woman shifted as she brought her hands together in an embrace around the middle of her lover. She pulled closer to Penelope, drawing her knees under her friend's legs. The intimate contact calmed the Amazon as she continued.
'As America became more powerful, her people—in many cases, her leaders—came to love the power more. The reminders of what she had been in this more innocent time became anathema to them. And that's why I have decided to retain the costume. As a reminder of what America once was, and what she can be again.
'As America moved further from the civility and unity of World War II, and into the turmoil and tumult of the Vietnam War and… what is it called, the—counterculture…? As America moved further away from World War II, the common goals and beliefs, the accepted way of carrying on our social interactions and the civil relationships that were so common in society, all of these things became more and more polarised. It's not like one part of America was turning its back on these values and another part was desperately clinging to them, but rather… The part of America that said they wanted to protect those values and ideals was actually trying to undermine the things that made America unique—you know, freedom of expression and freedom of association. And then there was another part that embraced these ideas and wanted to stretch them as far as they would go. So there's one group that calls everyone who disagrees with them a Communist, and the other group calls all of the members of the first group Fascists. The country's being torn apart and no one wants to take a moment to stop it and consider what is happening. So my costume has to stand for an America where both sides can live without shouting at one another.'
'You understand that you're provoking your enemies by wearing that costume?' Penelope said. 'It's so revealing, it leaves so little to the imagination. And the imaginings of many people today are pretty creative. To many of them, it smacks of bondage and sex and fetishism and…'
'I understand that my costume, more than ever, represents the America I'm fighting for. An America that was humble, pure in purpose, and true to its values. If there are people who want to make the costume I wear something more than it is, or who want to misunderstand what it represents because they don't understand me, then it seems to me that that is their problem, not mine.'
'That's why you fight for the hippies and the anti-war protesters. There are even some newspapers that think you're anti-American.'
'I defend our soldiers and policemen against those who revile them. And it's more than merely the newspapers. Senator Carlton made the same accusation on the floor of Congress.'
'I remember. He called you a "harlot" and "a strip-tease dancer masquerading as an American icon". I wondered then why you continued to use your uniform, when you allowed yourself open to accusations like that.'
'Do you think I look like a "strip-tease dancer"?'
'No,' Penelope smiled, and lightly kissed Diana's forehead. 'But you do look like a "harlot".'
In the dim light of the bedroom, Diana smiled for the first time. 'You think I'm a harlot, the Whore of Babylon?' She twisted her body toward her friend.
'Well,' the blonde whispered, 'I'm not entirely sure of the specific requirements for the title.' She tightened her embrace around the Amazon's shoulders.
'Why don't we find out?' Diana laughed and pushed Penelope to the mattress.
At about that same time, several miles away from the Georgetown apartment, in downtown Washington, three men sat around a small table and spoke to one another in hushed tones, even though there was no one around to hear. The meeting was in the Emerald Club a slightly-better-than-sleazy strip club well away from the mall and other tourist areas of the city. One of the men was telling the others of a series of arrests, made only moments ago, at the Watergate Complex.
'The cops got them all,' he was whispering agitatedly. 'The cops arrested McCord.'
There was a long moment of silence. 'Will he talk?' one of the listeners asked.
'Do the cops know about you?' the other queried quickly.
The muscular man with the shaven head stared off into space, gazing between his comrades. 'No,' he answered quietly. But inside, Gordon Liddy wasn't so sure.
Liddy had been observing the break-in at the Watergate from across the street in the Howard Johnson's, when the lights and the calls of the police entering the Democratic headquarters had ended the effort to place listening devices in strategic locations around the office. He and E. Howard Hunt, his superior at the White House, had quickly packed their bags and fled their small room. Hunt was, no doubt, already back home, but Liddy had stopped at the Emerald, a CIA cover, to let some of his former CIA friends know of these events.
If he were to be arrested, Liddy knew, he would go to jail. All of the burglars were likely to wind up there. He and Hunt were safe unless someone talked. But the communications equipment McCord and his men carried would tell even the DC police that there were others located a short distance away from the Watergate. Even they could do the simple math that added up to outside men who could probably see the arrest. That meant the Howard Johnson's. Even now, they were likely checking the registry there. But the false names they had used to sign in would protect him and Hunt for a short while.
'I won't go to jail,' he said. 'There's someone who can get me out of the country, but I'll need you men to help me convince her.'
The two men who sat with him were, like Liddy had been, CIA. They ran this club as a front for Company meetings, transactions, and, in the basement, a safe house. On a more personal note, they ran the place as an additional source of income. The elaborate system of cameras upstairs was helping to create an extensive library of Washington's fetish and kink. Both of these men were strong and well muscled, a fact that would be appreciated by seeing them in their 'Emerald Club' t-shirts.
'Her?' one of the men, a dark Mediterranean type with curly black hair called simply Nero, asked. ''You want us to squeeze a woman?' He smiled broadly and looked across the table at the third man.
That quiet figure, known as Colin, had a crew cut that was definitely out of style, even in Washington, but his handsome face, clear blue eyes, and powerful physique would make him a very desirable date even in the hippie community. He also smiled, but it was more of a courtesy to Nero. He kept his eyes focused on Liddy.
'This is not your usual female, Nero,' Liddy warned.
End of Chapter One
Comments, questions, suggestions welcome: contact the author at marat1793@earthlink.net