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Wonder Woman, Wonder Girl. Part Two
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Wonder Woman, Wonder Girl and any other characters from
the Wonder Woman story line are copyrighted by DC comics.
Any similarity between names, characters and places in this
story are purely coincidental. This story is written solely
for entertainment purposes and cannot be used or redistributed
for the purposes of making money or profit.
WARNING - WARNING - WARNING - WARNING - WARNING
This story contains very descriptive scenes of sex, excessive
bondage and rape. If you do not like to read such material
DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!!!!
This story and its material are based on the Wonder Woman TV
series that aired in the '80s. It is simply one of my fantasy
episodes. Again, this story contains material of a dark nature.
If you are offended, do not flame me, just simply ignore
this posting.
From part 1...
Pamela changed into the black shorts, tennis shoes and
shirt. The shorts were basically men's cotton pants cut off
just where the legs met the waste. They were rather snug but
comfortable and showed off all of her long white legs.
She put on the shirt and tightly tied the bottom halves
together in a knot around her lower chest to support her
breasts. This left her stomach exposed along with a good
deal of cleavage. It was hot and she felt the more
ventilation the better. Besides, getting sand out of a bra
was a pain and she always hated that feeling. Anyway who was
going to see her. This was probably a wild goose chase
anyway.
The Domination of Wonder Woman - Part 2.
Pamela slowly started to make her way down the cliff's
winding trail toward the obscured beach below. As she got
lower and lower she could hear the surf pounding on the
rocks. Seagulls soared upward on pillars of air toward the
mid afternoon sky and then took dive after dive into the
ocean water to catch fish.
After about 10 minutes of slow decent, Pamela reached
the narrow beach that lined the base of the cliffs. From
this point not only could she not see the road but she
couldn't see her car as well. The cliffs rose vertically for
40 or 50 feet forming an ominous wall before her. Without
the trail to take her back up, she would probably be trapped
on the beach and be washed out to sea when the tide came in.
Picking up a piece of driftwood and using it as a cane,
she climbed over the rocks and plodded through the sand
toward the northern end of the beach. There, looming in
front of her were tons of boulders blocking her progress
north. "Oh well, nothing down here except a bunch of dead,
smelly fish anyway." Pamela huffed as she turned and started
back over the boulders toward the south.
As she turned, her foot slipped out from under her and
her rear end came down hard on the boulder she was just
standing on. Sitting there for a moment contemplating what
kind of inept clod she was, she grabbed a nearby boulder and
proceeded to get up. Her hand suddenly slipped out from
under her weight and again her rear pounded into the rock.
"What the?..." she said in frustration as she held her
hand up. Dripping from her hand was a clump of dark, black
ooze which slowly rolled down her upper arm. Wiping her hand
back and forth several times she shook the ooze onto a
nearby rock. She rubbed the remnants between her fingers and
then took a quick sniff.
"Lubricating oil? Its almost fresh. How can...." and
looking out at the shore she saw the seagulls diving in and
scooping out dead fish after dead fish from the water. "The fish!".
Pamela got up, walked to the shore and dipped her fingers in
the churning water. Her fingers came out covered in a thick
rainbowish film of oil. Looking out across the water along the
shore to the north, she could see the same rainbow effect in the
water beyond the wall of boulders that blocked her path.
With her walking stick in hand she proceeded to climb
the boulders to see what was on the other side of this wall.
After climbing 10 feet with ease, her progress was suddenly
met with an impassable wall of rocks. There was no way to
get a foot hold nor any way to skirt around it short of
jumping in the water and swimming around. The though of
jumping in that slimy, oily, rotting, fish infested water
and swimming against the current quickly changed her mind
about that idea.
"Oh well, I'll just have to come back with some rope in
the morning. Its probably nothing anyway. Just some
fishermen dumping oil or something." but as Pamela turned to
leave she could faintly hear a very soft 'ting' from behind
the wall of rocks.
Out on the beach the surf's roar was so loud she could
barely hear herself think but up against the rocks, the surf
was deadened and the 'ting' continued to repeat. Now
curiosity drove her to get past the rocks. Looking for a
moment she suddenly noticed a white, hard substance between
some of the rocks. "Mortar? On a beach?" and she began to
feel along the mortared seam, tracing it around the rocks.
Then, at mid level, she noticed one rock protruding
outward. It seemed very
unnatural as it jutted straight out of a solid block of
rock. What's more, there was a gap all the way around where
the stone met the rock wall. It was as though the stone was
floating sideways in a hole in the wall.
After examining it a bit, she put her hands on it and
gave it a slight shove. Surprisingly it moved inward making
a slight grinding sound. She then pushed on it again,
leaning completely into it and forcing the stone to flatten
against the surrounding rocks. At that moment she could hear
a grinding noise to her left as a section of the rock face
swung open to reveal a door.
Slowly and cautiously Pamela picked up her walking
stick and, holding it like a club, proceeded to enter the
dark and mysterious doorway. As she went from daylight to
pitch dark it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust.
After a few moments, she could see she was on the other side
of the rock wall. On this side however things looked a lot
different.
Apparently the outside wall was built up to wall off
the entrance to a cave that ran through the cliff from one
side to the other. On the inside she could see the wall was
built up of various rocks into a vertical wall with various
metal Ibeams and struts supporting it. The weight mechanisms
for the door were clearly visible from this side of the
wall.
Along the roof was strung a thick electrical cable with
a string of light bulbs hanging from it. This probably
explained the odd lights people reported seeing from the
beach. As the door opened at night, the light from the bulbs
would escape onto the pitch dark beach.
Pamela stealthily moved through the tunnel, keeping to
one side so as not to be seen easily. The 'ting' sound she
heard earlier grew noticeably louder as she approached the
other end of the tunnel. As she reached the other end she
quickly ducked behind a small pile of rocks.
The tunnel opened onto the side of a large, underground
grotto which was apparently formed by tidal actions over
several thousand years. The deep, almost cylindrical tunnel
ran from the ocean, through the side of the mountain and
into its depths for several hundred feet.
The mouth of the tunnel was covered with a huge
camouflage net with what appeared to be various large brown
sponges attached to it. From far away, the sponges and
netting would probably look exactly like the surrounding
rock.
At the other end of the tunnel was the source of the 'ting'
sound. Anchored, and almost dry docked, was a German
Type IV U-boat. It sat on several large I-Beams that ran underneath
it and which acted like a giant cradle holding the boat right side
up in the low tidal water. The water level was extremely low, low
enough for several men to walk chest deep in the water and
work on the sides of the hull. The 'ting' sound came from
the upper deck of the U-Boat as a man, with a huge sledge
hammer, pounded away at something or other.
Pamela sat for a minute in awe of this spectacle. She
hated the Nazis and what they stood for but sometimes, like
in this case, they pulled off some pretty impressive feats.
This secret dry-dock was no exception and it had to be
shutdown immediately. If that sub could maneuver into the
shipping lanes, it could torpedo freighters and warships and
return here to rearm and refuel. It could harass shipping
for years.
Suddenly Pamela noticed some activity on a wooden dock that
ran along the front of the U-Boat at the far end of the grotto.
She spied the mingling of people intensely and froze in shock. There,
wearing a black raincoat and hat, was one of Nazi Germany's
most ruthless spies, Countess Gretta Orlaph.
This woman could be considered her Nazi counterpart
except for the fact Pamela would never conceive of doing a
tenth of the horrid atrocities this woman was credited with.
Not only was this woman a murderer, she was a cold blooded
psychopath who took great enjoyment in torturing her
victims. Being at the hands of the Countess meant certain
slow and painful death.
The Countess stood with two gentlemen and several Nazi
workers. The two gentlemen also wore black raincoats and
were unrecognizable to Pamela. They had to be top operative
though since the great Countess never worked with "amateurs
and thugs".
"Boy I can't wait to turn in this base's location. Not
only will we nail a secret U-Boat base, we'll also nail the
Countess herself and her gang of goons." Pamela softly
whispered to herself. But as she sat watching the spies on
the dock, she felt a small, cylindrical object press into
the middle of her back.
"Get up frauline and keep ze hands vhere I can zee
them." said a deep German voice behind her. Pamela's eyes
lit up as she slowly rose to her feet with her back to the
gunman.
"Hey... Hey Franz." shouted the gunman, "Comin z here.
I have caught a little spy." And with that shout several
workers began racing down the gangway toward the side tunnel
entrance. They were several hundred feet away but, at a good
jog, they would be on her in only a few minutes.
"Turn around slowly frauline." ordered the gunman, "let
me have a look at you." Pamela slowly turned to face the
mysterious man behind her. The man was one of the workers,
apparently using the tunnel to travel to and from the
highway. He was a stocky, rather disgusting gentleman
wearing large, blue overalls, a ragged, oil soaked T-shirt
and tattered work boots.
As she turned to face him his face lit up with a small,
perverse smile as his eyes shifted downward toward Pamela's
bare legs and tight shirt. "You American girls are most
attractive. I do so much enjoy being in America." the pot-
bellied worker slurred as he gaped at her shapely body.
Thinking quickly Pamela realized she had an edge. Her
arms were held up at her sides with her hands about level
with her head. Swinging her elbows inward, she slowly
squeezed her large breasts together, creating a rather
impressive canyon of cleavage. At the same time she cocked
her hips to one side, bring her legs and thighs together and
bending one leg slightly at the knee. She then bent slighlty
forward toward the worker and her full red lips sprouted a
small, dreamy smile. With this stance she could probably
pose for any cheesecake, war calendar and probably be the
most popular month.
"Oh please don't hurt me." Pamela said softly and
slowly as she batted her long eyelashes innocently, "I
wasn't doing anything wrong, I promise. I'll do anything you
want if just don't hurt me." She looked deep into his eyes
with her best 'who me' school girl look. Her eyes blossomed
into two, big, blue pools of pure helplessness.
"Don't worry my dear." said the worker as he approached
her, reaching out to grab her upper arm with his free hand.
"We won't hurt you. We just want to ask you a few
questions." he continued staring intensely at her large,
round breasts.
"Oh I'm not worried," Pamela replied.
Suddenly, with blinding agility, she let out a powerful
front kick that landed between the workers legs. At first
she thought he was going to scream like a wild animal and
maneuvered herself so she could knock him out with a karate
blow.
The worker didn't scream, however. Instead, he froze
in a prone, hunched over position and slowly tilted over,
falling with a low, dull thump to the dirt floor like a thick
oak tree crashing to the ground.
"Gets em every time." she beamed as she picked up the
gun and shook the sand off of it. As she did so she could
hear the other workers climbing up the catwalk that
connected the side tunnel entrance to the grotto. "Oh boy.
I'd better beat it, but quick, or I'm going to end up the
guest of honor at a Nazi gang bang party."
She bolted for the entrance door and, as she reached
it, she could here the workers at the other end picking up their
stunned friend. "Damned American bitch!" she could hear
"We'll fix her good!"
Getting outside was a lot easier than getting in but
she had to do something to slow them down. There was no way
she was going to make it up the cliff without them taking a
shot at her. Maybe Wonder Woman could handle these thugs but
not her. One lone girl with a Lugar wasn't going to hold off
20 or 30 men.
As the door shut, she noticed the stone switch
extending itself back out from the rock. "If I could jam that switch..."
she thought. Quickly using the only hard thing she had, Pamela
wedged the barrel of the Lugar into the crack between the switch
stone and the surround rock.
After securing the pistol, she headed back for the
path, bolting and bounding from rock to rock like some
adrenaline pumped mountain goat. Stopping for just a moment,
she looked down the cliff to see if she was being chased or,
worse yet, being fired upon. The pounding surf was so loud
the workers could have been firing cannon shells at her and
she wouldn't have heard them.
At first she thought the wedged gun didn't work as she
could see the door opening. But it quickly stopped after
only a few inches and she could see it opening and closing
as though the men were trying to force it open. "Good thing
he was carrying a Lugar instead of a 45," she thought as she
continued up the rocks "I never would have gotten the barrel
jammed in the rock if it was a 45."
Reaching her Desoto, she whipped open the door and fired up
the engine, slamming it into reverse and flattening the gas pedal in one
swift, fluid motion. The car's tires spun in the soft dirt
spraying up a large shower of dirt and gravel as the she
maneuvered the car at high speed in reverse back up the dirt
rode to the highway.
"Oh NO!" she gasped as she looked through the back
window of the car. Between her and the highway, two men
stood with machine guns. Instantly, they opened fire on the
car. Instinctively, Pamela ducked her head behind the seat,
hoping she could keep the car on course.
An array of 'plunking' sounds rang through the car as the
spray of bullets punched through the thin steel of the
body. Glass showered all over Pamela and the front
seat as the bullets went through the rear and front
windshields. Amazingly enough, none of them went through the
seats, as she had hoped, and she continued to barrel the car
like a small, black juggernaut up the dirt road.
Bthump, Bthump.
She could hear the bodies of the two men role over the
top of the car as she rear ended them. "What idiots." she
thought as she backed the car out onto the highway. "I would
have at least gotten the hell out of the way."
Sitting back up she slammed the car into first and
headed south down the highway toward Bricksburg. This was
the closest town, and the closest phone, and she had to let
someone know what was going on. Since it was a Saturday and
the defense department would be closed, her only hope was to
contact Diana at home, that's of course, if she was home.
As the car sped off, three figures walked onto the rode.
Bending down one of the men wiped his fingers on a wet spot
on the highway. "Petrol, her car is leaking." the man in the
raincoat said in a deep German accent.
"Good" said the countess in a deviously, pleasant
voice. "Our little spy won't get far. Tell our agents in
Bricksburg to expect a visitor. I want her brought to me
ALIVE!"
- - -
Drucella sat at the drugstore counter, her hands
cupped in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankles and her
head bent over a huge chocolate malt. She didn't move a
muscle except for her mouth which slowly sucked and slurped
away at the ice cream desert in front of her. Around the
drugstore various businessmen, housewives, the shop owner
and several teenagers stared in awe.
Surrounding Drucella was a plethora of 10 or 12 empty
malt, sundae and ice cream dishes. Never in their lives had
they seen such anyone eat so much ice cream in such a short
amount of time, at least no one that didn't head for the
rest room holding there mouth.
"Uh, Hi. My name is Daniel." at first the feasting amazon
didn't even notice the young man who sat down next to her.
"Uh hello... yoo hoo.."
Drucella shifted her head to one side to see the person
talking to her. Raising her head she turned slowly around to
look the other way thinking he was addressing someone to her
other side. "Are you talking to me?" shyly asked Dru as she
pulled the straw from the half empty glass and licked the
ice cream remnants from it.
"Yeah um.. my name is Daniel but everyone calls me
Danny" stuttered the boy as he held out his hand to Dru.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do they call you Danny?"
"Cause that's my name, Danny."
"I thought your name was Daniel."
"It is." Danny said sheepishly retracting his hand.
"How strange. You have two names?" Dru remarked as she
returned to slurping up her ice cream treat.
"Well at least I can't eat a dairy's worth of ice
cream." replied Danny, "how can you eat so much?"
Dru quickly stopped and stared in embarrassment at Danny.
She then looked about the store at the gaping customers.
Then she leaned toward Danny and whispered.
"You mean this is a lot?"
"Maybe where you come from it isn't but around here
that's a kids allotment of ice cream for a whole year."
replied Danny.
Dru daintily plopped the straw on the counter and
pushed the glass away in a quick, non-chalant manner. "Oh,
well, I was done anyway. Besides, where I come from we don't
have anything like ice cream sundaes or chocolate malts or
rootbeer floats ...." and as she listed off all the desert
treats in the store she stared hungrily at the half empty
cup with her big brown eyes in an almost hypnotic trance.
"Well... uh... I was wondering if you'd like to go for
a ride with me in my car?" sheepishly asked Danny as he
slowly waved his hand in her face in a vain attempt to disrupt
her craving stare.
"Ride? What ride?" asked Drucella as the spell was
suddenly broken.
"My car. I have a car. Would you like to go for a ride in
it?" asked Danny again impatiently.
Remembering what Diana said, Drucella thought that
running around town with a strange boy could be construded
as 'getting into trouble' though the idea sent a slight
tingle down her spine.
"Oh, I better not. My sister's expecting me to come
home soon. In fact, I think I hear her now." Dru said as she
perked her ear toward the door in a kind of pretend
listening motion.
"Uh, I don't hear anything. Are you sure you can't go
for a ride? I know you'd love it." the boy pleaded.
"Oh believe me, when my sister wants your attention, you
can't refuse it." said Dru as she walked out the door of the
drugstore and headed for Diana's apartment.
"And I bet it would have been fun too." Dru thought in
disgust, "Oh, Diana, why do you have to be so boring!"
After several minutes of figuring out how the key
worked in the lock, Drucella plodded into Diana's apartment
and plopped down on the couch. Immediately she sprang up and
headed for the icebox. After perusing the contents for
several minutes, she slammed the door in disgust.
"Diana you eat like a rabbit. No ice cream at all just
vegetables, vegetables and more vegetables!" Drucella
blurted out.
As the door slammed shut, however, Dru noticed a note
stuck to the handle. "Its a note from Diana." Reading it
semi-out loud in a bored, droning way, Dru tossed it down on
the kitchen table and stomped angrily back into the living
room. "Got to work late... Got to work late" she mockingly
repeated the note's message. "I guess I'll just have to sit
here and read..."
At that moment the phone rang. At first Dru had no idea
what was going on. The bell sound rang out like a crying
baby wanting attention. Dru sat up and in a panic twirling
about the room in a frenzy.
"OK, Diana told me about these things. A phone... yeah
she said its a black thing..." and Drucella began to hunt
for the source of the ringing sound. Seeing what she thought
was it, Dru picked up the handset and brought it to her
face.
"Diana... is that you?" Dru said as she closed one eye
and stared into the receiver. The voice on the other end
appeared to be blurting out tons of indiscernible information
and rambled on frantically.
"Uh, hello.." said Dru again slowly as she put the
handset to her mouth. "Diana... Diana... You've got to
send help quickly." blurted the frantic voice.
"Um... uh... this isn't Diana, I'm her sis...." Drucella
started to say.
"I'm in grave danger. There's a secret Nazi base here
at Bricksburg, off Goose Island road on the beach. A U-Boat
base and everything. And you're not going to believe this
but the Countess is also here." rambled Pamela, "Oh my
God... I've got to go. Come to Bricksburg..." click.
Dru held the phone away from her face and stared at it
again in complete confusion. "What was that all about?" she
thought. "Hey, wait a minute. That woman said Nazis. Those
are Diana's enemies." "If I could catch them that will prove
to Diana I can take care of myself!" exclaimed Drucella.
"But how do I get to this Bricksburg?" she wondered.
Suddenly, a childishly, devilish gleam came to her eye and
picking up a pen and paper she quickly jotted down a note:
Dear Diana:
Gone to catch some Nazi named the Countess in Bricksburg.
Will be back for dinner (or at least desert).
Love and Kisses
Drucella
Propping the note on the phone, she bolted for the door
and headed for the drugstore. "I hope that Danny Daniel boy
still wants to give me a ride." she said to herself.
- - -
Pamela quickly hung up the dime store phone and darted
around the back of the phone booth. The two men who walked
in the front door looked awfully suspicious but her paranoia
was confirmed when the courteous store owner happily pointed
toward booth and the two men started back toward her.
Looking about frantically she noticed the backdoor and
made a bee line for it. The two men would have to zig zag
past several aisles of canned and grocery goods to reach the
phone booth and she was sure they didn't see her duck down
the little hallway that led to the rear exit.
Watching behind her she quickly opened the door and
bolted out. Halfway out the door into the alley, she felt a
strong arm grab her from one side of the exit. The arm
wrapped around her waste and pulled her off to one side,
throwing her off balance.
As she was pulled over to the side, another man wearing
a black raincoat rushed her from the front and wrapped both
his arms around her bare legs, lifting them off the ground
and firmly holding them at bay. Her hips and thighs twisted
and gyrated against the man's superior grip as she fought to
get away.
At the same time, the man behind her reached up and
place a folded handkerchief over her nose and mouth. The
overpowering waves of chloroform fumes blasted into her
lungs and she struggled in vain to escape their
anesthetizing effects.
The three combatants formed a wriggling mass of arms
and legs as Pamela thrusted and twisted to free herself. Her
bare legs and round, full hips surged up and around in
massive arcs as the two men held their prey from escaping.
Like a snake pinned from both ends, her shapely body could
only twist and wiggle in futile defiance as she continued to
breathe in the anesthetic.
As the three continued their gyrating dance, a black
sedan quickly pulled up with the rear door flying open to
scoop up the helpless blonde. The man holding Pamela's legs
backed into the rear, pulling in the struggling girl while
the other man forced her upper body into the back seat,
making sure the chloroform stayed over her mouth. He then
climbed in himself and sat down, laying Pamela's upper body
on his lap. The other man, with his right arm clapped around
her thighs, pulled her hips onto his lap and held her
thrusting body down with his other arm. At the same time the
rear door slammed shut and the car took off toward the
north.
After about 20 seconds, Pamela's darting, frantic eyes
began to grow heavy from sleep. Like a sponge, the
handkerchief slowly soaked away her consciousness until her
fiery struggles were stilled. Pamela sank into the back
seat, letting out a low, dull, muffled moan as she
surrendered to the chloroform.
As soon as the blonde agent was unconscious, the man
holding the handkerchief, continued to hold it in place. He
then removed another handkerchief from his coat pocket and
proceeded to tie it around her mouth. This kept the drug
soaked handkerchief in place while also gagging the sleeping
girl.
At the same time the second man rolled Pamela over,
pulling both her hands behind her back. He then produced a
length of thin, white rope and, while crossing her hands
behind her back, he wrapped it several times horizontally
and then vertically around her wrists, tying it just tight
enough as to not cut off her circulation but tight enough to
keep her securely bound.
He then brought the long end of the rope down the back
of her legs and wrapped it several times around her ankles,
securing her bundled legs with several tight knots. The two
men then rolled the bound and gagged Pamela over on her back
and slid her down their legs onto the floor of the car,
laying her on her back between
the front and rear seats.
Both men stared down at Pamela and their gaze moved
slowly over her helpless body. "These American women are so
beautiful eh Fritz." said the one man as he put his hand on
her bare knee and began sliding it slowly up and down the
inside of her firm, soft thigh. "Ya, I will enjoy, ehem,
interrogating her." the other said as a deviantly wicked
smile came across his face.
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