Summary
This is a fan-made story based on the unfilmed episode "The Velvet Touch". I don't have a copy of the original script, so this is my version based on the scant details I have available.
Other than the episode title, the story may or may not coincide with the originally planned episode of the same title. 😁
This is structured as a 2-Part "Episode":
Part 1 - Chapters 1 to 5
Part 2 - Chapters 6 to 12 \
Updated as of 26 March 2025:
Added a few paragraphs to "rectify" the seeming deus ex machina in my original story, so it now becomes a more deliberate act rather than a lucky break for our heroine.
Enjoy!
The auditorium is abuzz with excitement as the beauty pageant reaches its climax. The air is filled with the scent of expensive perfumes and the rustling of elegant gowns. Diana Prince, seated in the audience, watches the contestants with a keen eye. Her gaze is not that of admiration alone, but of vigilance. Recent disappearances of beauty queens have put her on high alert.
As the final contestant takes her bow, Diana notices a subtle commotion backstage. She slips out of her seat and makes her way towards the backstage area, her heart pounding with anticipation. The corridor is dimly lit, the sounds of the pageant fading as she moves deeper into the labyrinth of dressing rooms and props.
Suddenly, she hears a muffled cry. Rounding a corner, she sees two burly men dragging a struggling contestant towards a side exit. The girl's tiara is askew, her mascara smeared with tears. Diana's instincts kick in; she needs to act fast.
She ducks into a nearby dressing room, quickly scanning for a clear spot. With a swift spin, she transforms into Wonder Woman, her iconic red, white, and blue outfit shimmering under the harsh fluorescent lights. The low-cut red bustier hugs her curves, the golden eagle emblem gleaming across her chest. Her high-cut blue shorts, adorned with white stars, accentuate her long, toned legs. The gold belt around her waist grants her super strength, and her knee-high red boots, with their white stripes, complete the powerful ensemble. Her golden tiara sits firmly on her head, a symbol of her Amazonian heritage.
Wonder Woman bursts out of the dressing room, her lasso of truth coiled at her side. The kidnappers, caught off guard, release the contestant and turn to face her. The first man lunges at her, but Wonder Woman deftly sidesteps, sending him crashing into a rack of costumes. The second man pulls out a knife, its blade glinting menacingly.
Wonder Woman's lasso snakes out, wrapping around the man's wrist. With a swift tug, she disarms him, the knife clattering to the floor. The man grunts in pain, but his partner has recovered and charges at her. Wonder Woman meets him head-on. She lands a powerful punch, sending him reeling backwards.
The first man, now weaponless, tries to grapple with her. Wonder Woman's combat skills are unmatched; she flips him over her shoulder, slamming him into the ground. The second man, seeing his partner down, decides to flee. Wonder Woman gives chase, but the man disappears into the crowded auditorium, leaving her with the shaken contestant.
Wonder Woman turns her attention to the girl, her voice gentle yet firm. "You're safe now," she assures her, helping the contestant to her feet. The girl clings to her, sobbing in relief. Wonder Woman's eyes narrow as she looks in the direction the kidnappers fled. This is far from over, she knows. The night has only just begun.
Diana and Steve make their way to the IADC's high-tech control room, where the hum of advanced machinery fills the air. At the center of the room stands IRAC, a near-sentient supercomputer affectionately known as Ira. Its panels blink with an array of lights, processing vast amounts of data at lightning speed.
Steve approaches the main console. "Ira, we need your help," he says, his voice echoing slightly in the sterile environment. "We're looking for any possible pattern in the recent beauty queen abductions."
Ira's mechanical voice responds, calm and efficient. "Processing request. Please stand by."
Diana watches the screens intently, her eyes reflecting the scrolling data. After a moment, Ira speaks again. "Pattern detected. All four pageants where the women were abducted had a common sponsor: Velvet Touch Cosmetics."
Steve's eyebrows shoot up. "Velvet Touch? They're one of the biggest names in the industry."
Diana nods, her expression thoughtful. "It could be a coincidence, but we can't ignore the possibility that they're involved. Ira, can you produce a list of possible next targets based on the upcoming pageants sponsored by Velvet Touch and the profiles of the women who have been abducted?"
"Affirmative," Ira replies. "Compiling data now."
The printer whirs to life, spitting out a list of names and locations. Steve picks up the printout, scanning the information quickly. "These are the next pageants sponsored by Velvet Touch. We need to protect these women."
Diana takes the list from him, her eyes narrowing as she reads the names. "We can't be sure if Velvet Touch is really involved in this, but we can't take any chances. Let's split the list. You take half, and I'll take the other. We'll cover more ground that way."
Steve agrees, his expression determined. "Right. We'll keep in touch and update each other on any developments. Let's move out."
As they prepare to leave, the control room is filled with a sense of purpose. The mission is clear: protect the potential targets and uncover the truth behind the abductions. The stakes are high, and time is of the essence.
Diana pulls up to the suburban home of the next potential target, a beauty queen named Rachel Thompson. The house is quiet, the neighborhood peaceful, but Diana's senses are on high alert. She approaches the front door, knocking sharply. No answer. She tries the doorknob; it's unlocked. Pushing the door open, she steps inside, her eyes scanning the dimly lit interior.
Suddenly, she hears a muffled scream from upstairs. She kicks off her heels and races up the staircase, her heart pounding. As she reaches the landing, she sees two men, dressed in black, struggling with Rachel in her bedroom.
Diana quickly assesses the situation, spotting a nearby walk-in closet. She slips inside, finding just enough space to spin into her iconic Wonder Woman outfit. The transformation is swift, her civilian clothes replaced by the vibrant red, white, and blue of her heroic attire.
Wonder Woman bursts out of the closet, her presence commanding and powerful. The kidnappers pause, momentarily awestruck by the sexy heroine before them. Her golden tiara glints in the soft bedroom light, her high-cut blue shorts and low-cut red bustier leaving little to the imagination. The golden eagle emblem across her chest gleams, a symbol of her Amazonian strength and courage.
The first kidnapper recovers from his surprise, lunging at Wonder Woman with a brutal punch. She deftly blocks the blow, countering with a swift kick that sends him crashing into the wall. The second kidnapper, wielding a knife, slashes at her. Wonder Woman dodges, the blade missing her by inches. She grabs his wrist, twisting it until he drops the knife with a cry of pain.
Rachel, still struggling, tries to warn Wonder Woman about a hidden thug, but her words are muffled and incoherent. Wonder Woman, focused on the fight, doesn't notice the third man stepping out from the shadows behind her. He moves silently, a chloroform-soaked rag in his hand.
As Wonder Woman lands another powerful punch on the second kidnapper, the hidden thug strikes. He clamps the rag over her face, the sickly sweet scent of chloroform filling her nostrils. She struggles briefly, her eyes widening in shock, but the chemical quickly takes effect. Her vision blurs, her limbs grow heavy, and she collapses to the floor, unconscious.
The kidnappers stand over her, admiring her helpless form. "Well, well, well," one of them murmurs, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "This is going to be fun." They exchange gleeful looks, their sinister plans for the heroine already forming in their minds. Rachel, now subdued, watches in horror as Wonder Woman lies vulnerable at their feet.
The kidnappers circle Wonder Woman's unconscious form, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent. Rachel, though a beauty herself, pales in comparison to the Amazonian heroine lying vulnerable before them. The men exchange glances, their breaths quickening with anticipation.
One of the kidnappers, unable to resist the temptation, reaches down and pulls Wonder Woman's low-cut red bustier down to her waist, exposing her breasts. His hands roam over her smooth skin, groping and squeezing with rough, calloused fingers. The other kidnappers watch, their eyes filled with lust as they take in the sight of the helpless heroine.
Another man kneels beside her, his hands sliding down to her high-cut blue shorts. He runs his fingers along the crotch, feeling the heat and moisture beneath the thin fabric. With a cruel smirk, he begins to finger her, sliding his fingers in and out with deliberate, invasive movements. Wonder Woman's body responds involuntarily, her hips shifting slightly under his touch.
The third kidnapper, growing impatient, unzips his pants, his arousal evident. He positions himself between her legs, ready to take advantage of her vulnerability. However, the first man stops him, a stern look on his face. "We don't have time for that. We need to get out of here."
Reluctantly, the third man zips up his pants, his frustration palpable. They quickly discuss their next move, their voices low and urgent. "Too bad we have to kill her," one of them mutters, a hint of regret in his voice. "But we can't leave her alive."
With a final, lingering look at Wonder Woman's exposed form, they lift her and carry her to the bathroom. They place her in the bathtub, her arms and legs bound with rope. One of the kidnappers turns on the faucet, filling the tub with cold water. They watch as the water level rises, knowing that it will eventually reach her face, drowning her in her sleep.
Satisfied with their deadly trap, they turn their attention back to Rachel. The beauty queen, now subdued and terrified, is dragged out of the room, her cries for help muffled by a gag. The kidnappers leave the house, their mission partially complete, leaving Wonder Woman to her watery grave.
Chapter 2
The cold water laps at Wonder Woman's face, shocking her back to consciousness. Her eyes flutter open, her vision blurry and disoriented. It takes a moment for her to realize her predicament. She is bound in the bathtub, her wrists and ankles secured with rope, her arms pinned to her sides. The water level is dangerously high, threatening to engulf her completely.
She struggles against her bonds, but the lingering effects of the chloroform have left her temporarily weak. Her usually formidable strength is diminished, making it a struggle to break free. The ropes dig into her skin as she tugs and pulls, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
The water continues to rise, now covering her nose and mouth. She holds her breath, her lungs burning with the need for air. Panic begins to set in as she realizes the gravity of her situation. The kidnappers had not thought to bind her with her own lasso, but the simple ropes are proving to be a formidable obstacle in her weakened state.
She thrashes in the water, her movements growing more frantic as the seconds tick by. The water pressure against her face is relentless, pushing her closer to the brink of unconsciousness. Her mind races, searching for a solution, a way out of this deadly trap.
As the water completely engulfs her, Wonder Woman's struggles become more desperate. Her lungs scream for air, her vision darkening at the edges. She knows she has mere seconds before she succumbs to the watery grave.
With a final, Herculean effort, she tenses every muscle in her body, straining against the ropes with all her might. The fibers creak and stretch, but hold firm. Her strength is waning, her consciousness fading.
The water engulfs Wonder Woman completely, the cold liquid filling her nostrils and ears, muffling all sound. Her lungs burn with the desperate need for air, and her vision begins to darken. The ropes binding her wrists and ankles, as well as her arms to her sides, seem unyielding, but she refuses to give in to the panic that threatens to overwhelm her.
With a surge of adrenaline, she summons every ounce of her remaining strength. Her muscles strain against the ropes, the fibers creaking under the immense pressure. She twists and pulls, her body writhing in the water as she fights for her life. The seconds stretch into an eternity, each one bringing her closer to the brink of unconsciousness.
Just as her vision begins to fade to black, she feels a slight give in the ropes around her wrists. With a final, desperate tug, she manages to free one hand. The sudden release of tension allows her to quickly unravel the rest of her bonds, her movements fueled by pure instinct and the primal need to survive.
She bursts out of the water, gasping for air, her lungs filling with sweet, life-giving oxygen. She coughs and sputters, her body shaking with the aftermath of her near-death experience. The water sloshes around her as she struggles to her feet, her limbs still weak from the lingering effects of the chloroform.
As she stands, dripping and breathless, she takes a moment to assess her surroundings. The bathroom is quiet, the only sound the steady drip of the faucet. She leans against the wall, her chest heaving as she fights to regain her composure. Her mind races, piecing together the events that led to her current predicament.
It is then that she notices the telltale signs of violation. Her high-cut blue shorts are slightly askew, and she can feel the lingering sensation of where she has been fingered. A wave of anger and disgust washes over her, but she pushes it aside, focusing on the task at hand. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what lies ahead.
Wonder Woman takes a moment to recover, her body slowly regaining its strength. The effects of the chloroform begin to wear off, her mind clearing and her senses sharpening. She knows she cannot afford to waste any more time. The kidnappers have a head start, and she must act quickly to save Rachel and uncover the truth behind these abductions.
With renewed determination, she steps out of the bathtub, her wet boots squeaking against the tile floor. She straightens her costume, her golden tiara glinting in the harsh bathroom light. Her eyes narrow with resolve as she prepares to continue her mission, more determined than ever to bring the perpetrators to justice.
Later, back at the IADC: Steve, his face etched with frustration and concern, paces back and forth in the briefing room. Diana enters, her professional demeanor masking the turmoil within.
Steve looks up as she enters, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of relief and urgency. "Diana, I arrived too late," he says, his voice tinged with regret. "The girl I was supposed to protect, Amanda Larson, was already missing from her apartment. There were signs of a struggle—furniture overturned, a broken vase, and a smear of blood on the carpet."
Diana's expression remains composed, but her mind races with the implications. "I had a similar experience," she begins, her voice steady. "I arrived at Rachel Thompson's home just in time to see her being attacked by the kidnappers. I managed to intervene, but they were too well-prepared. Wonder Woman showed up and fought them off, but they had a hidden thug who managed to knock her out with chloroform."
Steve runs a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "This confirms it. Velvet Touch Cosmetics is involved somehow. We need to find out how and why."
Diana nods in agreement. "I'll pay them a visit. See if I can get any information out of them. Maybe they'll slip up and give us something to work with."
Steve looks at her, his eyes filled with concern. "Be careful, Diana. These guys are dangerous, and they're not afraid to use force. We can't afford to lose you too."
Diana offers him a reassuring smile, her determination unwavering. "I'll be careful, Steve. We need to find these girls and put an end to this. I won't let them get away with it."
Chapter 3
The Velvet Touch Cosmetics headquarters is a sleek, modern building with gleaming glass walls and a bustling lobby. Diana, dressed in a professional yet stylish suit that hugs her curves, steps inside, her heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor. She approaches the reception desk, her expression confident and composed.
The receptionist, a young woman with perfectly coiffed hair and immaculate makeup, looks up and smiles brightly. "Welcome to Velvet Touch Cosmetics. How can I assist you today?"
Diana returns the smile, her voice smooth and professional. "I'm Diana Prince from the IADC. I'd like to speak with someone in charge regarding a sensitive matter."
The receptionist's eyes widen slightly, but she maintains her composure. "Of course, Ms. Prince. Please have a seat, and I'll let Mr. Harper know you're here. He's our CEO."
Diana takes a seat in the plush waiting area, her eyes scanning the opulent surroundings. Moments later, a tall, handsome man in an expensive suit approaches her, his smile charming and his eyes appreciative as they take in her appearance.
"Ms. Prince, I'm Charles Harper, the CEO of Velvet Touch Cosmetics. It's a pleasure to meet you," he says, extending his hand.
Diana stands and takes his hand, her grip firm. "Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Harper."
Charles gestures towards his office. "Please, call me Charles. Let's discuss this in my office."
As they walk, Charles openly admires Diana's figure, his eyes lingering on her curves. "You know, Ms. Prince, have you ever considered a career in modeling? You have the perfect look for it."
Diana maintains her professional demeanor, though she feels a slight discomfort at his blatant flirtation. "Thank you, but I'm quite happy with my current career."
They enter Charles's office, a spacious room with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city. He gestures for her to take a seat on the plush leather sofa, sitting close beside her.
"Now, what brings the IADC to Velvet Touch Cosmetics?" he asks, his voice smooth and inviting.
Diana crosses her legs, her skirt riding up slightly to reveal more of her toned thighs. Charles's eyes flicker down briefly before returning to her face. "We've noticed a pattern in the recent abductions of beauty queens. All the pageants they were taken from had a common sponsor: Velvet Touch Cosmetics."
Charles leans back, his expression thoughtful. "That's troubling to hear. We take our sponsorships very seriously, and the safety of the contestants is of utmost importance to us."
Diana nods, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deception. "We were hoping you could provide us with any information that might help us in our investigation. Anything unusual or out of the ordinary that you've noticed."
Charles leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'll do everything in my power to assist you, Ms. Prince. But I must admit, I find you quite distracting."
Diana maintains her composure, her voice steady. "I appreciate your cooperation, Charles. Let's focus on finding these missing women and bringing those responsible to justice."
Charles Harper stands up from the sofa, a charming smile playing on his lips. "Why don't I give you a tour of our facilities, Ms. Prince? You can see firsthand the innovative work we do here at Velvet Touch."
Diana agrees, standing up and smoothing her skirt. "That would be very informative, thank you."
As they walk through the bustling corridors, Charles places a hand on the small of her back, guiding her gently. His touch is firm yet gentle, and Diana can feel the warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of her suit. They enter a large, state-of-the-art laboratory where scientists in white coats are busy at work.
"This is where the magic happens," Charles explains, his voice filled with pride. "Our research and development team is always pushing the boundaries of cosmetic science."
As they move deeper into the facility, Charles's hand slides around her waist, his arm wrapping around her body. His fingers rest lightly under her breast, the touch subtle yet intimate. Diana feels a mix of discomfort and professional obligation, maintaining her composure despite the inappropriate contact.
They pass through various departments—marketing, packaging, and quality control—each area a hive of activity. Diana takes mental notes, her eyes scanning every detail, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
As they approach a heavily guarded area, Diana's curiosity piques. The doors are reinforced, and two burly security guards stand sentry. "What's behind those doors, Charles?" she asks, her voice casual but her eyes sharp.
Charles's smile falters for a moment, his evasiveness clear. "Oh, that's just our restricted research area. Highly sensitive projects, you understand. Trade secrets and all that."
Diana presses further, her instincts telling her there's more to it. "I see. It seems quite heavily guarded for a cosmetics company. Are you sure there's nothing more going on behind those doors?"
Charles laughs, but the sound is forced. "Just our top-secret formulas, Ms. Prince. Nothing to concern yourself with."
Diana nods, her mind racing. They're hiding something, she thinks. She resolves to come back as Wonder Woman to investigate further.
As they continue the tour, Charles's hand remains on her waist, his fingers occasionally brushing against the underside of her breast. Diana endures the contact, her focus on gathering as much information as possible.
Finally, they return to Charles's office. He turns to face her, his eyes lingering on her lips. "I hope the tour was enlightening, Ms. Prince. If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask."
Diana offers him a polite smile, her voice steady. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate your cooperation. I'll be in touch if I have any further questions."
As she leaves the building, Diana's resolve is unshakable. She knows she must return as Wonder Woman to uncover the truth behind the heavily guarded area and the missing beauty queens. The stakes are high, and time is running out.
Charles Harper watches as Diana Prince walks away, her hips swaying gently with each step. His eyes linger on her figure, the memory of her body against his hands fresh in his mind. A smirk plays on his lips as he thinks, She'll make a fine addition to our collection.
Turning away from the window, he strides down the corridor, his footsteps echoing with purpose. He approaches the heavily guarded doors of the company's secret research lab, nodding to the security guards who step aside to let him pass.
Inside, the lab is a sterile, bustling environment filled with scientists in white coats, their faces obscured by safety glasses and masks. Charles approaches the lead scientist, Dr. Maria Klein, who looks up from her microscope as he enters.
"Dr. Klein, what's the status of our latest tests?" Charles asks, his voice authoritative.
Dr. Klein straightens up, her expression professional but tinged with concern. "The women are compliant, Mr. Harper. They follow commands and are eager to please. However, as in previous tests, they've become increasingly... horny. Their libidos are heightened to the point where they're eager to please just about anyone."
Charles nods, aware of the unintended side effect. "I see. And have you made any progress in addressing this issue?"
Dr. Klein shakes her head. "Not yet, sir. We're still working on perfecting the formula. The current side effects are proving difficult to isolate and eliminate."
Charles considers this for a moment, his mind racing with the implications. "Very well. In the meantime, have the women taken to the brothel, just like the previous girls. Our clients will be more than happy with their current state."
Dr. Klein nods in understanding. "Of course, Mr. Harper. We'll arrange for their transport immediately."
Charles turns to leave, then pauses, remembering something. "And prepare to 'acquire' more women for testing. We need to keep our supply fresh."
Dr. Klein's eyes widen slightly, but she maintains her composure. "Understood, sir. We'll begin preparations right away."
As Charles walks back to his office, his mind lingers on the report from his men about their encounter with Wonder Woman. They had described her in vivid detail—her powerful, sexy form, her fierce determination. They had left out the part where they groped and fondled her, but the image of the heroine helpless and at their mercy sends a thrill through him.
He sits down at his desk, a satisfied smile on his face. The thought of adding Wonder Woman to their collection, of seeing her compliant and eager to please, fills him with anticipation. He knows the risks, but the rewards are too tempting to resist.
Chapter 4
Under the cover of night, Wonder Woman approaches the Velvet Touch Cosmetics headquarters. Her iconic red, white, and blue outfit shimmers under the dim streetlights, her golden tiara glinting in the moonlight.
The building is quiet, the usual bustle of activity replaced by an eerie stillness. Wonder Woman scales the side of the building, her powerful legs propelling her upward with ease. She reaches a balcony on the upper floor, her boots landing silently on the polished stone.
Slipping through an open window, she enters the darkened corridor. Her eyes adjust quickly to the low light, her enhanced vision allowing her to navigate the shadowy hallways with confidence. She moves silently, her every step deliberate and precise.
As she makes her way deeper into the building, she remains unaware that her arrival has been anticipated. Charles Harper, ever the calculating strategist, has prepared for her inevitable return. He had assumed that the formidable heroine would manage to escape the death trap set by his men after they kidnapped Rachel, and he was right.
Wonder Woman's destination is clear: the heavily guarded restricted area she had noticed during her tour with Diana. She remembers the reinforced doors, the burly security guards, and the evasive answers from Charles Harper. Something sinister is happening behind those doors, and she is determined to find out what.
She rounds a corner, her heart pounding with anticipation. The restricted area is just ahead, the reinforced doors looming in the dim light. She pauses, her eyes scanning the area for any signs of security. The guards are nowhere to be seen, an unusual absence that sets her senses tingling.
Undeterred, Wonder Woman approaches the doors, her hand reaching out to test the handle. To her surprise, it turns easily, the door swinging open silently. She steps inside, her eyes widening as she takes in the sight before her.
The restricted area is a sprawling, state-of-the-art laboratory, filled with advanced equipment and bustling with activity. Scientists in white coats move between workstations, their faces obscured by safety glasses and masks. The air is filled with the hum of machinery and the faint scent of chemicals.
Wonder Woman's eyes narrow as she takes in the scene, her mind racing with questions. What are they doing here? What secrets are they hiding? She knows she must find answers, and she is prepared to do whatever it takes to uncover the truth.
Little does she know, her every move is being watched, her presence anticipated and accounted for. Charles Harper stands in the shadows, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he observes the heroine from his hidden vantage point. The game is far from over, and he is ready to make his move.
Wonder Woman steps further into the restricted area, her eyes scanning the lab with a mix of curiosity and caution. Suddenly, the lights flicker on, bathing the room in a harsh, clinical glow.
From the shadows, Charles Harper steps forward, a smug smile curling his lips. Flanking him, company security guards stand at the ready, their hands hovering near their weapons. His gaze locks onto her.
"Welcome, Wonder Woman," he drawls, voice smooth, confident. "I must admit, I was expecting you."
Behind her, a massive security guard emerges, blocking any retreat.
Wonder Woman's eyes narrow, her stance shifting to a defensive posture. "You were expecting me?" she asks, her voice steady but laced with suspicion.
Harper nods, his smile widening. "Indeed. After your little encounter with my men, I knew it was only a matter of time before you showed up here. And I must say, you're even more stunning in person."
Wonder Woman ignores the compliment, her focus on the task at hand. "What are you doing to the girls, Harper? What's going on in this lab?"
Harper spreads his arms wide, gesturing to the equipment and scientists around them. "This, my dear, is the future of cosmetics. We're designing products that make people vulnerable to suggestion, allowing us to control their minds. Imagine the possibilities—politicians, business leaders, even entire populations, all under our control."
Wonder Woman's expression darkens. "That's sick. You're playing with people's lives."
Harper shrugs, unapologetic. "Progress always comes at a cost. Unfortunately, our formula isn't perfect yet. The women become compliant, yes, but they also become... hyper-aroused. Eager to please sexually. It's an unintended side effect, but one that has its benefits."
Wonder Woman's eyes widen in horror. "You're turning them into sex slaves."
Harper chuckles. "Such a harsh term. Let's just say they're serving a higher purpose. Most of them have ended up in our high-end brothels, catering to the desires of our VIP clients. It's a win-win situation, really."
Wonder Woman's fists clench, her anger palpable. "You're disgusting."
Harper takes a step closer, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Perhaps you'd like to join them, Wonder Woman? I'm sure our clients would pay top dollar for a night with the world's most famous heroine."
Wonder Woman's eyes flash with defiance. "Never."
Harper laughs, the sound cold and calculating. "We'll see about that. You see, I have a special plan for you, Wonder Woman. One that will ensure your compliance, one way or another."
Wonder Woman knows she's walked into a trap, but she's determined to fight her way out and put an end to Harper's sinister plans. The battle for her freedom and the lives of the captive women is about to begin.
The air in the restricted area crackles with tension as Wonder Woman stands defiantly before Charles Harper. Her eyes blaze with determination, her body poised for battle. Harper, with a smug smile, knows he has the upper hand.
Without a word, Wonder Woman lunges forward, her fist aimed at Harper's jaw. But Harper is ready; he steps back, and two burly guards flank him, their movements coordinated and precise. They are trained fighters, prepared for this moment.
Wonder Woman's punch connects with one of the guards, sending him crashing into a nearby workstation. The other guard counters with a swift kick, which she blocks with her forearm. The impact reverberates through her, but she doesn't falter. She spins, her leg sweeping out to trip the guard, who stumbles but quickly regains his footing.
More guards rush in, surrounding her. Wonder Woman fights with the ferocity of an Amazon, her movements fluid and powerful. She lands punch after punch, kick after kick, but the guards are relentless. They are well-trained and equipped to handle her strength and speed.
As she fights, she notices something amiss. The guards are not just fighting her; they are herding her towards a specific spot in the lab. Before she can react, an electrified net drops from the ceiling, ensnaring her. The net crackles with energy, sending jolts of electricity coursing through her body. She struggles, her muscles convulsing from the shock, but the net holds firm.
Harper watches with satisfaction as Wonder Woman's struggles grow weaker. "You put up a good fight, Wonder Woman," he says, his voice dripping with mock admiration. "But we were ready for you."
Wonder Woman grits her teeth, fighting against the pain and the overwhelming electrical current. Her vision blurs, and her limbs grow heavy. With a final, desperate effort, she tries to break free, but the net is too strong. The electricity surges one last time, and darkness claims her.
As Wonder Woman collapses, unconscious, the guards move in, securing her with restraints. Harper approaches, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "Take her to the holding cell," he orders. "We have much to discuss when she wakes up."
The guards nod, lifting Wonder Woman's limp form and carrying her away. Harper watches them go, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
Chapter 5
Wonder Woman stirs, her consciousness slowly returning. Her body aches from the electrical shocks, and her limbs feel heavy and unresponsive. As her vision clears, she finds herself in a dimly lit holding cell, her wrists and ankles bound with unbreakable restraints. She looks down and notices her magic belt is missing, her strength significantly diminished without it.
Charles Harper stands before her, a cruel smile on his face. "Ah, welcome back, Wonder Woman," he taunts, his voice dripping with malice. "I must say, you look quite helpless without your precious belt."
Wonder Woman's eyes flash with defiance, but she remains silent, assessing her situation. The cell is sparse, the walls reinforced with thick metal bars. There is no escape in sight.
Harper snaps his fingers, and the door to the cell opens. Rachel and several other newly abducted girls are brought in, their eyes wide with fear and confusion. They are dressed in revealing outfits, their bodies on display for Harper's amusement.
"I thought it would be fitting for our newest acquisitions to see their would-be savior in all her glory," Harper says, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Or rather, her lack thereof."
Wonder Woman's heart aches as she sees the terror in the girls' eyes. She knows she must stay strong, if not for herself, then for them.
Harper approaches her, his eyes gleaming with lust and power. He reaches out, his hand sliding down her body, lingering on her curves. Wonder Woman tenses, her breath hitching as his fingers trace the outline of her star-spangled panties. He gropes her roughly, his fingers pressing against the thin fabric, invading her most intimate area.
The girls watch in horror as Harper's thugs join in, their hands roaming over Wonder Woman's body, fingering her through the crotch of her panties. She struggles against her bonds, her voice pleading. "Stop... please, stop..."
But her pleas fall on deaf ears. Harper and his thugs are relentless, their actions fueled by a sickening sense of power and control. They take turns violating her, their laughter echoing through the cell as they humiliate and degrade the once-mighty heroine.
Rachel and the other girls watch in disbelief, their hopes shattered as they see their savior reduced to a helpless victim. Tears stream down their faces, their bodies trembling with fear and despair.
Wonder Woman's voice grows weaker, her pleas for mercy ignored. She knows she must endure, must find a way to fight back, but for now, she is at their mercy, a pawn in their twisted game.
Wonder Woman lies on the cold floor of the holding cell, her body bruised and violated, her spirit crushed but not broken. Harper stands over her, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he looks down at his helpless captive. The girls watch in horror, their faces streaked with tears, their hopes shattered.
"You know, Wonder Woman, you're quite the prize," Harper says, his voice dripping with malice. "I think you'll make an excellent addition to our brothel. High-paying customers will line up for a chance to have you. Imagine it—the world's most famous heroine, reduced to a sex slave forever."
Wonder Woman's eyes flash with defiance, even as her body trembles with exhaustion and pain. "Never," she whispers, her voice hoarse but determined.
Harper laughs, the sound cold and calculating. "You don't have a choice, my dear. You're bound and helpless, and soon, you'll be compliant too."
He turns to one of his thugs, who hands him a small, innocuous-looking tube of lipstick. Harper approaches Wonder Woman, kneeling down beside her. He uncaps the lipstick, revealing a vibrant red color.
"This is our latest creation," he explains, his voice smooth and confident. "It looks like ordinary lipstick, but it's so much more. It's designed to make you compliant, eager to please. You'll be the perfect sex slave, Wonder Woman."
Wonder Woman struggles against her bonds, her eyes wide with fear and desperation. "No... don't do this," she pleads, her voice barely a whisper.
Harper ignores her pleas, applying the lipstick to her lips with slow, deliberate strokes. The cosmetic is quickly absorbed, its effects almost immediate. Wonder Woman's eyes widen in shock as she feels a strange warmth spreading through her body, her resistance melting away.
"No... fight it," she murmurs to herself, her voice growing weaker. But the effects of the lipstick are too strong. Her eyes begin to glaze over, her breath coming in shallow gasps. A soft moan escapes her lips, her body responding to the overwhelming desire coursing through her veins.
<
Harper watches with satisfaction as Wonder Woman's struggles grow weaker, her body succumbing to the effects of the mind-control cosmetic. He stands up, turning to his thugs with a smug smile.
"Now, get me Agent Diana Prince next," he orders, unaware that Wonder Woman and Diana Prince are one and the same. "I have a feeling she'll be just as much fun to break."
To be continued.
Notes:
And so part 1 of our special 2-part episode ends here. What would happen to our heroine next? Will she be a sex-slave forever at the hands of The Velvet Touch company?
Tune in for the 2nd part of this thrilling story.
Coming soon!