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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, 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. The first two parts start off rather slowly
so please bare with the story.



Wonder Woman: The Domination Of Wonder Woman Part 2
by Anonymous

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 waist 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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